A handsome panel may be made of plaster of Paris. On a sheet of wrapping paper, exactly the size of the panel, draw the design to be worked in plaster.
In mixing the plaster a solution of glue and water is used; the glue is for the purpose of delaying the setting of the plaster, in order to gain time to trim up the plaster when necessary. To the glue and water is added the coloring material. A small quantity of plaster is mixed with the glue water at a time, to the consistency of a thick paste. The plaster is urged from the point of the spoon with which it is applied with a pointed stick that has been thoroughly oiled to prevent the plaster from adhering to it. Some practice is required to guide the plaster so as to keep it within the outlines of the drawing. Another way is to make a coil or cornucopia of stout, well-glazed, and thoroughly greased writing-paper, made small at the point. A quantity of the plaster is placed in the coil, and by gently squeezing the top of the horn a continuous stream is forced out; this may, by moving the horn in straight or curved lines, be made to fill in any pattern drawn. After the plaster patterns have thoroughly dried they are glued in position in the window box and well varnished.
When I was in Palatka, Florida, last winter, my mamma wrote a letter for me, which was published in YOUNG PEOPLE. I have always been very much pleased and interested by the children's letters, and have begged mamma to write again for me.
So many have written of their little pets, I want to tell of our little pet robin. It fell from the nest when very small, and we thought it would die; but my auntie made a nest for it in a basket, and fed it often with meal and water, and it grew to be quite tame, and when big enough would eat worms, taking them down whole, until it could hold no more. It would fly across the room, and alight on my auntie's thumb, and stand quietly if she was paring fruit. We were all very much attached to it, and were hoping to be able to have it when a full-grown pet; but one day it flew over a kettle on the stove, and the steam scalded it, though how badly we did not know until it died a week later. We buried it in a little box, and really felt very lonely without it. I now have a pretty Maltese kitten, which, like several other readers of YOUNG PEOPLE, I have named Toby.