The Nursery, No. 107, November, 1875, Vol. XVIII. | Page 3

for the mother; but the Chinese women have to
endure more hardships than that, as I shall show you in future numbers
of "The Nursery."
In cold weather, these people must suffer very much, they are so poorly
clad. They put all the clothing they have on the upper part of their body;
and their legs and feet are hardly covered at all. Fortunately for them, it
is not very cold in this part of China.
[Illustration]
In Canton, there are many more boats than here; for the floating
population there is the largest in the world. I have seen as many as ten
children in one boat. The small ones have ropes tied around them: so, if
they fall into the water, they can be picked up easily.
A little fire in a small earthen vessel is all that these strange people
have to cook their food by. The poorer ones have nothing but rice to eat,
and consider themselves very fortunate if they get plenty of that. Those
better off have a great variety of food; and some of it looks quite
tempting; but the greater part is horrible to look at, and much worse to
smell.
All the men and boys have their hair braided in long cues. The women
have theirs done up in various styles; each province in China having its
own fashion. Neither women nor men can dress their own hair. The
poorest beggars in the street have their hair done up by a barber.
For the men there are street barbers, who shave heads on low seats by
the roadside; but, for the higher classes and the women, a barber goes
to their houses. The women's hair is made very stiff and shiny by a
paste prepared from a wood which resembles the slippery-elm. It takes
at least an hour to do up a Chinese woman's hair.
C.E.C.
HONG KONG, CHINA.

MINOS.
I read, the other day, an account, taken from an English paper, of a
wonderful little dog, called Minos. He knows more arithmetic than
many children. At an exhibition given of him by his mistress, he picked
out from a set of numbered cards any figure which the company chose
to call for. When six was called, for instance, he would bring it; and
then, if some one said, "Tell him to add twelve to it."--"Add twelve,
Minos," said his mistress. Minos looked at her, trotted over to the cards,
and brought the one with eighteen on it.
Only once was he puzzled. A gentleman in the audience called out,
"Tell him to give the half of twenty-seven." Poor Minos looked quite
bewildered for a moment; but he was not to be baffled so. He ran off,
and brought back the card with the figure on it. Was not that clever?
He has photographs of famous persons, all of which he knows by name,
and will bring any one of them when told to. He can spell too; for when
a French lady in the company wrote the word "esprit," and handed it to
him, he first looked at it very hard, and then brought the letters, one by
one, and placed them in the right order.
When Minos was born, he was very sickly and feeble; and his mother
would not take care of him, and even tried to kill him. But little Marie
Slager, daughter of the lady who has him now, took him and brought
him up herself.
[Illustration]
From that time he was her doll, her playfellow, her baby. She treated
him so much like a child, that he really seemed to understand all that
was said to him. She even taught him to play a little tune on the piano.
Almost all performing animals are treated so cruelly while they are
being trained, and go through with their tricks in so much fear, that it is
quite sad to see them. But the best thing about Minos's wonderful
performances is, that they were all taught him by love and gentleness.

Remember this, boys, when you are trying to teach Dash or Carlo to
fetch and carry, or draw your wagon: there is no teacher so good as
love.
ELIZABETH SILL.

[Illustration]
GRANDMA'S GARDEN.
This is the way; here is the gate, This little creaking wicket; Here robin
calls his truant mate From out the lilac-thicket. The walks are bordered
all with box,-- Oh! come this way a minute; The snowball-bush,
beyond the phlox, Has chippy's nest hid in it. Look at this mound of
blooming pinks, This balm, these mountain daisies; And can you guess
what grandma thinks The sweetest thing she raises? You're wrong, it's
not the violet, Nor yet this pure white lily: It is this straggling
mignonette,-- I know you think it silly,-- But