The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 14, 1896, Page 29

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JUNE 14, 1896. WIUDHQ0DS By /‘.\ar)/ W. [@cbard s ‘Whei Lizzie had eaten the skin of one pie, she peeled the skin off the next one, ‘. to make mates,” she said. She gave me he bubbles in the peeling to eat. T'hen | she made “mates” of the next two pies on | the shelf, and of the next two, and the uext one. We wished mother had baked a mate to that last one. Once mother had punished our fingers | for picking off the crust-crinkles to a cus- | tard nie. She told us neverto pick off pie- | erinkles again. Lizzie remembered what | she said and did not pick one crust-crinkle | off those seven pumpkin pies. All we ate | was just their skins. | Then we came out and shut the buttery | door very softly and went behind the stable to play in the watering-troughs. By and by we heard mother call *‘Lizzie!” We didn't answer. Mother called again, “Liz-zie! Ad-die!” | We peeped around the corner and she | was standing in the shed-door. She saw Roses. Lucent, clear dewdrops On mist-looms spun, Among the red roses Ablow in the sun; June’s crimson roses, Flowers of the sun! In a waste garden, Through :he night's noon, Pale roses dreamily Swing 'neath the ; 2 Gold x4.5,nfl,;,‘.{,_,2’_‘°°n' our pmk. sunbonnets and cal_led .agn}n, Flowers of the moon. “Girls, did you peel my pumpkin pies? R e Aaiogt | “I—1 skinned hali a pie, mamma’; ‘Ilyvlqb‘l'l Biled ‘4?:‘1*,‘ ‘]n fl‘“’ ag's: Lizzie answered so low that nobody but s 119 years old to-day! g | mother could have heard her. One hundred and nineteen years since | “Did you peel more than half a pie?” the *'stars and stripes” was adopted as the | .1 “skinned one whole pie,” Lizzie's National symbol of the spirit of the Ameri- | o o C0 L4 o stable’s corner. can people. : | “Did you peel more than one whole Then just thirteen pie?? l‘_"’“‘ : “I—I did skin three pies, mamma.” nchanged through all these years has | po 2o o, 1t o B e didnet the dear old flag remained, with the ex- | oo “wit» gho said “L* though I had ception that on the Fourth of July follow- | Vo4 ent the pie-skins. ing the admission of a new State an- “Did you peel more than three pies, other white star is placed in its field of | 1,09 Mother’s voice was just as blue. 2 | patient as ever. nd now to-day it proudly floats from | © [ pesjed mates, mamma: all the mates every public building and schoolhouse all | 1} .o were and one mate over.” over our broad land, saluted by millions |~ wphen my little girls will come into the of loyal hearts as the standard of the most | juse” And we went in with mother: honorable and the most glorious Govern- |+ pefore she shut the shed door shé m»l*mv in v!helwormf broke off a tiny switch from the lilac bush na rnem»mr.lctte. from am"f’r“’!‘d' growing near it—a bit of a lilac twig that ent who has ml:ven an 1nlere§t in Child- | oou1dn’t hurt a fly’s wing, but small as it hood’s Realm,” the suggestion is made was, in mother's hand it helped us to re- that THE CALL offer prizes to its young | nomber never again to peel the skins read ers and contributors. from the pumpkin pies, Thanking you for your kindness, we beg leave to state that when the present management sssumed control of THE Cavrr the broad stand was at once taken that in no department of the paper should any form of inducement to insure sub- scriptions be offered besides the excellent | character of its make-up and reading ma- terial, and that in no sense of the word should it be a “hawker.” | Therefore, the boys and girls who have | encouraged the editor of ‘Childhood’s Realm” so very much by their dear little | letters and their efforts to unravel the puzzles have done so, not in the hope of receiving any teward save that which comes irom *‘work done for work’s sake.” What has become of Alice Beli? For two weeks no letter has been received from her! We miss yo Alice, because »a were the most faithful of all the little puzzle-workers. Let us hear from you s00n again. Won’t my dear little boys and girls, whom I think of almost every moment of my time, be just a mite more careful about their writing, their spelling, and please, please, PLEASE write only on one side of the pap States formed our | Once upon a time there was a little girl | whose name was Alice Day. One day, | after having read until she was tired, she asked her mother’s permission to go down to the meadow to pick *‘ladyslippers,” as they grew in great n@mbers there. SEVED PLIRPKIN PIES keep a sharp lookout for snakes. You know papa killed one there yesterday.” Alice promised to be watchful, and snatching up her bonnet she ran gayly to | the meadow, where she was soon seated in the midst of the dainty blossoms, her hands busily forming a beautiful bouquet, while her thoughts were busy about the snakes. ‘When she had gathered quitea large | bunch she started for home. As she was | walking leisurely along she spied off to one side a large patch of bluebells, her moth- er's favorite flower. *'Oh, I must take her | some of these beauties,” she exclaimed asshe wenton a run through the tall grass, forgetting all about snakes. No | sooner had she begun to pluck the blue- bells, however, when she saw the grass moving beside her as if something were | slipping through it. *‘Of course itis a | snake!” she cried, running away as fast as she could, but holding her bouquets very , firmly. When the frightened little girl reached home she told her mamma all about it, and then Mrs. Day sent Alice's brother with the little girl back to the place where she had seen the grass move, she said, “What if old Peter should get | and what do you suppose he found? Not 0ld Peter was 8 snake at all, but a little young rabbit? Alice took the tiny thing up in her arms | and carried it home, where she gave it sorae nice warm milk and a box in which BY CLARISSA POTTER, IN WIDE AWAKE. They sat in a row on the buttery shelf— seven crinkly edged, spicy, steaming pumpkin pies. & They were on blue earthen plates and they had little sugary bubbles all over their hot faces. They smelled good, they tasted gao.d,‘ they were good. Mother had shut the buttery door, for in here and eat my pies!”’ our biggest cat and he always would steal as hungry. When mother had put the last pieon the shelf and shut the buttery door, she | to sleep. At first the rabbit would not | did not see Lizzie and I hiding behind | drink the milk, but soon learned to like it, the flour barrel. . but he enjoyed from the first the fresh When we heard mother hang up the pie- | clover waich the little girl gathered for fork in the cookroom we crawled out and | him every day. stood before the seven pies. How good | Then a name had to bechosen. Mrs. they did smell! | Day suggested “Max,” bat Alice said Lizzie reached up and picked a tiny bit | “No, that wasthe name of a naughty dog.” of sweet, crisp, golden-brown skin from | 8be finally decided to call it “Bunny,” the top of one pie and ate it. Then she | and she often laughs when she remembers picked off a bigger piece and ate that. how very frightened she had once been of Lizzie was older and taller than I. 1| her dear little long-eared pet, and says couldn’t reach the pies though I stood on | “He could never make me run so fast tiptoe and tried to. | away from him again.’ ’IRENE MOORE. | of wind, purely local, which had played Her mother answered, *‘Yes, dear, but | Yes, that’s the title of my story. *“Oh, we won’t like that story at all,” I think I hear you exclaim, but please begin it, and I think you will enjoy it. It’s true, every word, and happened nineteen years ago in a country district about thirty-five miles north of the city of San Diego. | THE STORY. “Why, Miss Kate, Idon’t see the school- | house!” “I think perhaps we’re not near enough vet,” answered Miss Kate, rather doubt- fully. “Oh, yes we are! Don't you remember we could always see it when we reached this tree?”” said the little boy again. “Well, Willie, I do believe you are right and that our own little schoolhouse has been either swallowed up or blown away!"’ exclaimed the young teacher, as she stopped suddenly in the path, gazing with astonishment at the place where the build- 1ng should have been. “We weft it all wight yes'day af'noon, didn’t we, Mith Kate?" “Yes, Daisy dear, but it's gone now; let's go up to where it stood and see if we can discover what has become of it.” So up the steep kill they climbed; when they arrived at the spot, which was really a very barren, unsheltered place, they found that some mischief-worker had been i very busy during their absence. P I I would be in about a week, she was to hold her classes in his front room, Again thanking him for his kindness and bidding him “‘good night,”’ she went to bed with a very bappy heart. The next day the children met with their teacher in Mr. Case’s front room, and every day after that until the school build- ing was ready. Mr. Case’s house, by the way, consisted of two tiny rooms, the one in which the | thrown wide open to admit the sweet lessons were recited being the family sit- ting and bedroom. And worst of all, there was a teething baby in the house, whose peevish cries often drowned the voices of teacher and pupils. My! how glad a day it was when the little unpainted schoolhouse was ready (* for its occupants once more, even though it had no floor save the one furnished by Mother Earth—even though its stove and clock were warped and rusty and its books and maps tattered and torn. Then the kind trustees had placed it 1n such a pretty spot. = All during the days of the spring term the one little window and the door were sceats and the sounds of the season. Mocking-birds sang in the canyons clése by. The little squirrels were wont to come and sit on the wood Eile by the open door. Humming-birds, oh, so brlliant, darted hither and thither, and the flowers were so abundant and so gorgeous that the dell seemed to have been del uged with vari- colored paint from the great pots of the giants on the mountain-tops above. So you see, my dears, it was not such an ill wind, after all, that one night blew down the little country schoolhouse. M. W.R. ——— The Wise Bees. A bee is a busy little creature, and as wise as he is busy. It can gather about a grain of honey a day, which seems very small, but as there are 10,000 bees in a hive the aggregate is very large. Years ago a speculator sent swarms of bees to the West Indies, hoping to have honey in plenty, but he was disappointed. The wise little insects soon learned that there was no use piling up honey for winter, because the flowers were in blossom all the year rcund, 80 they only made as much as they could eat, and the experiment failed. 29 Nine baby owls swinging on a gate. One fell off, and then there were eight = | One of the walls of the building lay at | quite a distance, while the other three | | were piled on top of each other near at | | hand. | The hills and knolls around were strewn with a medley of papers, clock, stoves, | pencils, chalk, desks and books. Whno or what had done the mischief How could it have happenea? After talking it over quite a while they decided it must have been a sudden squall | { | | 2| havoc with their little temple of learning while they had been soundly sleeping the night before. Dispatching one of the boys for the trustee who lived in the neighborhood, Miss Kate and the rest of the children | went to work to gather up those of the | furnishings which had not been ruined. The schoolma’am felt- pretty blue; the hot tears filled her eyes as she bent over | her task. What was she todo? Here she | was far away from home. Ab, the thought of her mother, brothers and sisters in that | home, whom she was trying so hard to help, and now she had no schoolhouse in | | which to teach! Was it not disheaten- | ing? | | It was a very lonely place; thinly set- | tled. The trustees had been paying her a. high salary, and had even given her an extra amount for teaching on Saturdays, because she was the very first instructor who had been willing to remain during a whole term. Thus her thoughts ran, her face grow- 1ng more serious all the time. “It was a good thing it happened at night, Miss Kate,” said one of the boys, trying to cheer her. “Yes, Benny."” “Jush shink, Mith Kate, if it bad hap- p'n’d the day you forgotted to bwing the key, and we all had to cwimb in and out of the windo'! We'd been all hurted badwy wen, wouldn’t we?” chimed in dear little Daisy Browne. “Oh, here comes Mr. Case!” they shouted, running to meet the easy-going, good-natured man. “Wall, I declar’, Miss Kate,” said he, puffing and blowing after his climb, “this is too bad reely ! “What are you a-going to do?’ “Mr. Case, I think- I’ll pack my trunk and start for home to-morrow; I believe a steamer sails from San Diego for the north to-morrow, does it not?"’ said she, with trembling lip and flashing eye. “Thar, thar, not so fast. Of course I can’t say just what the other trustees of the deestrict will want to do, but I swan, we’d all hate to have you go. “I guess I'd better hitch up the old roan and jes’ drive over and let Mr. Jones and Mr. Bykes know 'bout this a-happenin’, and come and tell you this evenin’ what . we decide to do. “Now you go home, like a good girl, and jest make up your mind that we’ll not let you get off for such a little thing as the schoolhus’s blowin’ down! Will we, young uns?’ *Yon bet your boots we won’t,” shouted the boys. Thanking him for his encouraging words Miss Kate and her faitbful little flock started for home—a long walk of a mile and a half before her. It was in the lovely springtime of the year and the air was so full of the songs of bird¢ and the sweet fragrance of flowers that they soon recovered their good spirits and had not gone very far when they had to stop and have a good hearty laugh over the funny misfortune. One by one the boys and girls bade their teacher good-by as they reached their homes, rushing with eagerness to tell the exciting news to their parents, who were filled with wonder when they saw their children returning from school so eatly in the day. During the evening Miss Kate received the promised call from Mr. Case, who brought the welcome news that the school- house was to be immediately rebuilt, that the trustees had determined to build it much nearer her boarding-place, in a s Seven baby owls all in a mix. One got out of it, and then there were SiX. Five baby owls “sliding down our cellar door.” One got mad, and then there were but four. Four baby owls up in a tree. Bang! went a big gun, and then there were three. Three baby owls a-winkin’ at ydu. One winked too hard, = ;/477“.\\\\ S RS ! o Eight baby owls a good time h;;m’. - One burst his little self, and then there were seven. 8ax FraNcisco, June 8, 1896. Dear Editor: 1am a little boy, seven years | old. My papa takes The CALL every Sunday morning, and 1 enjoy reading the *“Child- | hood's Realm.” Igo tothe Washington Gram- mar School. I am in the second grade. My | teacher’s name is Miss J.Scott. This is my first letter to THE CALL. Your new friend, | GASCKEL JAAOLS, _— N bRl [ Find 8AN FraNcisco, June 8, 1896. Dear Editor: 1ama little girl. 1goto the Douglass School. The principal’s name is Miss Tarpy, and'my teacher's name is Miss Clausen. I like them very much. I live upon a hill; there is a fine view, and I can see all over the City and bay. Iam 11 yearsold. I can write | poetry. I bave many poems written in my | blank-book. We take THE CALL, and I enjoy reading the “Childhoed’s Realm” very much. | I have written a piece of poetry about the pansy, and I hope to see it published in next Sunday’s CALL. Yours truly, VERA CHISHOLM. MELROSE, June 4, 1896, Dear Editor: Thisis my first letter to THE CALL. My mamma reads the children’s page | to me and my sister every Sunday. Igo to the Melrose school. Iam in the third grade, I| like to go to school very much. I havea pet | dog named Sport and he plays with me every | day. Ihave a little white puppy. I would like | to see this in next Sunday’s CALL. Your little | new friend, SOoPHIE PRETORIOUS (8 years old). i LINCOLN, Cal., June 3, 1896. | Dear Editor: Thisis my first letter to THE | CALL, and I hope it will please you. My papa takes THE CaLL and he likes it better than the Chronicle. 1 like to read the little boys' and girls’ letters on the children’s page every Sun- day, Our school let outon the 23d of May. My letter is getting long so I will close. Good- by. Your little friend, MINNIE WYATT (age 9). BAN FrANCISCO, June 7. Dear Editor: My papa takes THE CALL, and Iam very much interested in the children’s column. As nextSunday is flag day, will THE CALL devote some space in briefly telling how proudly Old Glory has floated through sun- shine and rain from June 14,1777, down to June 14, 1896, and explain what the red, white and blue stands for in the formation of our flag? Iknow it would please all the children who like me read our column; and hurrah for Old Glory and THE CALL, that speaks for all. Good-by. Schoolboy, age 11. Leox. 2266 CHATTANO0GA STREET, June 7, 1896. Dear Editor: 1like the children’s page very mugch, and my mamma reads the stories to me, Some of them are very funny. I have a great many pets—three dogs, two canary birdsand apolly. Ithink she is the smartest polly in the world; she cries, sings, whistles, calls “Potatoes all in sacks"” and “Oranges 15 cents adozen”; crows like a rooster, cackles as if she had laid some eggs, and she says she is an A.P.A. This is my first letter,'so I hope it will be published in THE CALL next Sunday. I am 11 years old. Good-by. Your little friend, DORABELLE GRATTO. ToMALES, June 8, 1896. | Dear Editor: 1 thought I would write to | THE CALL. This 15 the first ime I have writ- ven. Ilike the Child’s Realm. I am 9 years old and T am in the fifth grade at school. We have vacation now. I have two sisters and three brothers. Papa has been taking THE CALL for fifteen years, Inclosed find answers to puzzles of June 7. I hope this will skip the wastebasket. Your new friend, MAGGIE CURRY. KEKAHA, KAUAT, May 22, 1896, Dear Editor: My papa takes THE CALL. I like toread the children’s page. I did live in Oakland, but now I live in Kekaha onaplanta- tion. My papa is chief engineer on the pump- | s P2 and then there were two. Two baby owls starting for a run. One got left behind, and then there was one. One baby owl crooning all alone. pretty, little sheltered dell. Until it was ready, which he thought An old hawk gobbled him, and then there was none. ing plant that supplies water for the cane fields. ‘When I lived in Oakland I used to go out on the hills and pick poppies, and papa is going to see if he can get me some poppy seeds to plant here, and if they grow I will send you some pressed. ¥ This is the first letter I have ever written for apaper. Ihope you will publish it. I am 9 | years old. Yours truly, i CHARLES ENSIGN JR. TrAcY, Cal, June 9, 1896, Dear Editor: I am a little girl 12 years old and my uncle takes THE CALL: Every Sund: after Bunday-school I read the Childhood's Realm. I read the letters and other pretty stories. ' We are having vacation now and we are having & fine time out in the fields. Hoping to see my letter printed in THE CALL, your little friend, Louise Jost. " EpNa, June 5, 1896. Dear Editor: 1enjoyed the stories and letters in THE SUNDAY CALL s0 much that I wanted to write and tell you so. This is my first letter I have ever written for a newspaper. Ihope to see my letter published in next Sunday’s CALL. Iam only 8 years old. My home is in S8anta Maria, but at present I am visiting on a ranch. I love to gather tha eggs and feed the chickens and ducks, My cousin has a hammock and a tent under the trees in the yard which we like very much. One day we went down to the beach and went in wading. Iliked it so much that I was sorry when it was time to start for home. Yours truly, CLARA CTOW. TRACY, Cal., June 9, 1896. Dear Editor: T am a little girl 11 years old. My papa takes THE CALL. I like to read the “Childhood’s Realm” very much. I have never written to you before, so 1 thought [ would write. Iliveout in the country. Qur house is two and a half miles to town. I have three brothers—Willie, Henry and Eddie. I have no sisters, but my cousin stays here. Hopirg to see my letter printed in THE SUNDAY Cavy, I remain your friena, NELLTE SCHIMDT. ROSEVILLE, Cal,, June 8, 1896. Dear Editor: My papa takes I'HE DAILY CALL. Ilike to read the children’s page. I am a little girl 8 years old. This is my first letter to you. My school closed & week ago last Friday. [ was promoted from the second to the third grade. My teacher’s name was Miss Phillippi. 1liked her very much. Ihope you will print this in next Sunday’s CALLif you have room. SYLVIA A. THEILE. MADERA, Cal., June 9, 1896. Iam a boy of 11 years. Thisis 1like to read the Dear Editor: { my first letter to THE CALL. “Childhood’s Realm.” 1 haven't tried any of your puzzles yet, but will soon try. I'd like to see my letter published in TR CALL. My brother has been taking it for two years. I am a brother of a natural artist, an account of whom appeared in the columns of your v uable paper about a year ago. My brother Ben broke his ankle the other day. When you receive my letter please don’t put itin the wastebasket, for I hope to see it in THE CALL by next Sunday, because THE CALL is the best paper on the Pacific Coast. Good-by, Yours truly, ABEAHAM PRECIADO. PUZ ZLES ) RN Sy S Correct answers to questionsand puzzles of June 7: 1. The stars and stripes adoptea as American flag on June 14, 1777, II. Granting of “Magna Charta” in Enge land on June 15, 1215. III, June 17, 1775. Battle of Bunker Hill. 1V. The giit of corn. On June 23, 1621, the Indian chief Massasoit presented to the whites corn for food and planting. V. (1) Showers. ~(2) Flowers. V1. Pole (of a carriage). Pole (North). (native of Poland). VII. One-to: tone—Gladstone. VIIL Because its bound to occur (a cur). IX. The group—Gladstone, his wife and their granddaughter “*Dorothy.’” (8) Bowers. Pole Puzzles for June 14: L When is a door not a door? ENIGMA. In mountain not In hill, In meadow not in field, In me not in you, Inman and woman too. OSCAR ANGELLREY. L Fali-peach takes-rolls. Out of the above words create the motto of agreat San Francisco newspaper. V. Take a giris’ name of four letters, change its head eight timesand have words meaning respectively: A fruit, a way or pas. sage, behind time. a value, a companion, dis- like, an inevitable necessity, and the head. Lucy MOELLER. V. I am composed of 8 letters, My 3—1—2—5 name of & toy. My 4—6—7—8 means bloody. M. 8EL1G. My 3—1—4 name of an anfmal, M{ whole is a title bestowed on our flag. Vi. Dropped vowels, A proverb: Tm nd td wt frn mn. VIL. What berry is found in the workbasket? In the manger? In the poultry-yard? 1II. (a) Behead a word ~meaning “to stretch”’ and get “‘todraw along”; ba‘heul again and get “moisture falling in drops.” (b) Behead ‘‘ease of manner’’and get run. ning; again and get ‘‘he one of cards or dice.” (c) behead “cereal ” and get * great warmth” ; behead again and get ““to take food.™ Names of those who sent in answers toall or a majority of the questions and puzzles for May 31: Irene Moore, John Morrison, Frank Arjoand Oscar Angelley. For June 7 from Marion Hamilton, Maggie Curry, M. Selig and one unsigned set of answers. Besides letters published to-day pleasant communications have been received irom R. . 8., Oscar Angelley, Bessie McMahon, An- toinette Crawford, Mrs. T. H. Cowell, Mrs. Caf- ferty, and a little rhyme from Vera Chisholm. | My 7—6—8 name of a boy.