In like manner did my brother treat each of the pins in succession.  Then it appeared that each had a different voice, and was capable of producing but one sound.  Moreover, they had been so arranged that, as they uttered each one his peculiar note, the sounds followed each other in such a manner as to produce the lively and patriotic air of “Yankee Doodle.”  This was very wonderful and pleasing.

“Well, Johnny,” said I, as soon as I could stop laughing, “that’s pretty good.  Where did you pick that up?”

“Oh, a feller told me,” said he. “’T aint nothing to do.  All there is of it is to get a tune in your head, and then drive a pin down in a board, and keep a-driving, and trying it till it sounds like the first note in the tune.  Then stick up another for the second note, and so on.”

“How can you raise a pin to a higher note?” said I.

“Hammer her down farther,” said he.

“And to make a lower note?” I asked.

“Pull her up a little,” said he.

“How do you manage the time?”

“Oh, when you want to go slow, you put the pins a good ways apart; and when you want to go fast, you plant ’em thicker.”

The next day I found that this ridiculous brother of mine had set up a pin-organ in a circular form.  He had made one of those little whirligigs which spin around when they are held over the register or by a stove-pipe, and then had connected it by a string with a wheel.  This wheel, as it turned, set an upright shaft in motion, and from this there projected a stick armed at the end with a pin.  This was arranged, as is shown in the cut, so that when it revolved, the pin in the stick played upon the pins in the circle, and rattled off the “Mulligan Guards” at a tremendous pace.

[Illustration:  THE PIN-ORGAN.]

Johnny says that he invented the circular arrangement, and that all the boys he knows are making these pin-organs for themselves, which I am not at all surprised to hear.

ABOUT THE PORPOISES.

BY J. D.

The porpoise is a long, sleek fish without scales, black on the back, and white and gray beneath.  He is from four to ten feet in length, and his sociability and good-nature are proverbial among seamen of all nations.

A porpoise is rarely seen alone, and if he by chance wanders from his friends, he acts in a very bewildered and foolish manner, and will gladly follow a steamer at full speed rather than be left alone.  He is a very inquisitive fish, and is always thrusting his funny-looking snout into every nook that promises diversion or sport.

[Illustration:  A SCHOOL OF PORPOISES.]