my cousin Will and my cousin Almy."

[Illustration: "I'S LEARNING TO SWIM, MAMMA."]

[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]

We wish to express to our young correspondents our sincere regret that
our limited space compels us to simply acknowledge so large a number of
the pretty letters which reach us daily from every part of the United
States. Do not think, because your letters are not printed, that we do
not consider them as well written or as interesting as those that are.
We are very sorry not to print all your little histories of your pet
dogs, and kittens, and birds, and other little domestic creatures, or
the excellent descriptions many of you write of the beautiful natural
scenery surrounding your homes; but if there is no more room in Our
Post-office Box, your letters can not be printed. We thank you heartily
for the pleasure you express in "Across the Ocean," "The Moral Pirates,"
"Miss Van Winkle's Nap," and other stories and poems; and the eagerness
with which you "run to meet papa when he brings home YOUNG PEOPLE" is
very gratifying. We trust you will continue your pretty favors to us,
and we, in return, will print all of your letters that we can possibly
make room for, and will promise to give you more and more pleasure with
every new number of YOUNG PEOPLE.

* * * * *

CAMP CARLING, WYOMING TERRITORY.

I have wanted to write to the Post-office Box for a long time, but
mamma said there were so many children writing that my letter
would not be printed.

We live in a camp, and see many curious things. When we look out
of our windows, we see the _aparejos_, which are the saddles put
on the mules when they are loaded. The saddles are arranged in
long rows, with pieces of tent cloth thrown over them. Every day
we see a great many mules going out and coming in. Then there is
another queer thing. It is the "condemned heap." Almost every day
my two little brothers go down to the pile and find a great many
treasures. Every month lots of things from the warehouses are
condemned, and brought to the heap to be burned. There are sixteen
warehouses here, filled with government stores.

A great many of the men who were in the first Ute fight under
Major Thornburgh went from this camp, and we know some of those
that were wounded.

Every night and morning we hear the bugle-call that tel