K. UNIACKE.

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    Two Rivers, Wis.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS:  I am not quite ten years old, but I am one of your oldest subscribers.  We have every number from the very first.  I have a brother Fred, two years older than I. We have always lived on the shores of Lake Michigan.

During the summer months, the steamer comes in from Chicago every morning.  Fred and I like to get up early in the morning, and go down to the beach, before breakfast, to see the steamer go out; and, afterward, the morning train, for the station is near the beach.  It is lovely down there early in the morning; we dig wells, sail boats, and wade out after the waves that chase us back again.

We love the lake, and spend many happy hours down there.  But sometimes it’s a very wicked lake.  Three weeks ago it blew very hard all night, and in the morning the waves were rolling up like mountains, and near the harbor pier there lay a wreck.  Although they were so close to the town, and several other vessels were lying at anchor near, no one had heard, or seen, or knew anything about how it happened.  It proved to be the “Magellan,” of St. Catherine’s, Ont.  Since then nine bodies have washed ashore, among them the captain and his brother, the mate, both of them fine-looking young men, and not like ordinary rough sailors.  The captain was a Knight Templar, and the Masons took charge of the body and sent it home, and some ladies made a beautiful cross of natural flowers, which they laid on his breast.  But I will leave this sad subject, and tell you how we appreciate ST. NICHOLAS.

Last week we had a concert.  There were several recitations from ST. NICHOLAS, besides the “Mother Goose Operetta” in the January number (1877).  It was very pretty.  There were fifteen children, all in handsome peasant costumes.  I was Marie.

Last summer, when we came from the Centennial, in our Pullman car were two boys just Fred’s age; one was from San Francisco and one from Chicago.  Of course, the three were soon well acquainted, and had lots of fun together.  And what do you think?  They soon found out that each was a subscriber to ST. NICHOLAS!  And how they enjoyed talking over the stories together!  “Fast Friends” seemed to be the favorite; but I like “Eight Cousins” better.—­Respectfully yours,

    NETTIE CONINE.

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    Paulsboro, N.J., 1877.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS:  I had pigeons at the Woodbury Fair both this year and last, and took the first premiums for best display:  another little fellow, about my age, had four when I had six, and had eight when I had nine; how many had I better take next year?  You are interested in this question, for the two dollars premium helps pay for my ST. NICHOLAS, and I don’t want to be without that.  I take the “Scattered Seeds,” but like ST. NICHOLAS better.  Please stop sending my magazine to Wm. E. Grant.  I am no relation to General Grant, but am a Democrat, and for General McClellan.  I am nine years of age.—­Your constant reader,

    WILLIE E. GAUNT.