The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 19, 1896, Page 27

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JULY 19, 1896 Hours of July, Oh, how you fly. With sunshine you beam, With joy and life teem. Hours of July, Why must you die? Won’t you have fun to-day reading all these nice little stories written by hoys and girls just your own age. All of the stories which were sent in were good, but twelve or thirteen for various reasons were better than the rest and these will appear as there is room. Don’t be discouraged if yours is not published, just be brave and write me a fine Jetter about how you spent the very happiest day of your vacation. Ever so many boys and girls wrote on both sides of their paper this week. Oh, dear, why won’t you remember not to do that? Will Arthur Sugaen please send his ad- dress and very much oblige the editor of this page? Names of young story writers: Miles K. Lewis €. Fopplauo Vera Chisholm Edwin B. Eshleman Cora Bohn Viola Truman Jessie Fredericks Annle Cleir Vicior Richit Alice Johnson Ada Dora Anthony Jessie C. Turner Alma M. Smith Grace Peterson Alla McGovern Dora Crawford Lilian £. A. Fisk Fiora Cartmill Alice Leo Kate Walbrath Mabel Ivey Mary Dunne Ashley Pettis Edward Pettls Ivy Johnson Carrie Govsalves Rose Den Etbel M. Ferguson Marie Chesworth Ray Stuarg Hazel Brock Laura Green Arihur Sugden Eva Navone Constance Keohan ‘Winnte Woodbury J. Gerona Herbert Leettee’ £y Laoltady. If your dolly’s sleepy and she begins to cry, Let her nestle in your lap, then her tears il dry, Then her pretty eyes 'ill shut with a bit of & sigh, Lay her, lightly, in her bed, a-lulla-lul-la-by, Smooth the tiny pillow, kiss the little sweet; Tuck the scarlet blankelets about her wee, wee feet; Pull the purple curtain down, tell ev’ry one you meet, “My dolly-baby’s fast asleep, your drums you mustn’'t beat.” Sweep your dolly’s parlor, bake an angel cake, Get all your washing done before she is awake, Mend her torn petticost, a little apron make, And a yellow pat of buster—all for dolly’s sake. When the'dinner’s cookin’and the table’s set, And the c¢hina vase filled with mignonette, Then you'll hear a little cry—she's begun 'to iret— Rock her gently in your arms, s-mamma’s little pet. CroRvs: Lul-la-lul-le-lul-la-by, I’'m your own mam-ma, Little dolly, quiet lie. La. la, ls, le, 1a. A.D.C. BAlogt &oeey (Dozky. Bread, we think, is the most curious material out of which a clock has ever been constructed. There was, and may still be, in Milan a clock made of bread. The maker was a native of Milan, quotes Harper's Round Table, who devoted three years of his time to the task. He was very poor, 2nd being withodt means to purchase the pecessary metal for the making of a clock, he set apart regularly & portion of his bread each day, eating the crust and saving the soft part. To solidify this he made use oi a certain salt, and when the various pieces were dry they became perfectly hard and insoluble in water. The clock was of good size and kept fair time. Another strange clock was exhibited some years ago in Liverpool. It was con- structed of pins, buttons, and all sorts of odds and ends by a pauper named Mer- cer. The maker of this. extraordinary timepiece thus describes it himself: “The back and front of the clock were made from iron bed-laths, while the barrel was part of a large brass ferrule, the ends being brass-buttons hammered out.” The harrel arbor had originally been the blade of a shoemaker’s awl, the main and several other wheels were nothing more nor less than suspender buttons from the maker’s own trousers, while the cog-teeth were portions of bygone knitting-needles. The teeth of the center wheels had been boot rivets. In the dial there were 100 separate pieces. Fon W(’th—a_]?dmfk('n. Not all of the fun of a pumpkin is made into pies. The New York Mercury tells how a pumpkin may entertain a whole | birthday party affer the pies are all taken out. It ought to be a prize pumpkin and a big one. Bcoop out all the inside. Then stuff it full of toys tied up in mysterious- looking bundles. To each package tie a bright ribbon, let- ting the loose ends fall out over the sides of the pumpkin. Then carefully replace the cap or the stem part, which you cut off, so that it will look as if it were still whole end place it on your teatable. Sur- rounded by ferns and colored autumn ieaves, and decorated with tne drooping ends of the ribbons, it will make a very pretty centerpiece. 3 When the feast is over set thé children to guessing how many seeds are in the pumpkin. When all have guessed, tell each to take hold of one of the ribbons, and when you say “Three!” they must pull on the ribbons, and in that way they will see how many seeds are in the pumpkin, Of course each little guest se- cures a pretty gift. Little Olga was a new scholar in Sunday- school and listenea with wide, blue eyes as the teacher read the story of Elijah be- ing fed by the ravens. BSeeing her eager little face the teacher said: “Now can Olga tell us how Elijah was fed ?” “He was fed with raisins,”’ was the earnest reply, A Strnge Play. One beautiful day in midsummer Miss Elizabeth Mabel Gray, Who had reached the wise age of seven, Invented a very odd play. She didn’t intend to be naughty (She afterward said), not at all, But mamma just had to go shopping And leave her alone with the doll. And dolly was cranky and sulky, So Bess had to put her to bed, And then she had no one to talk to, ‘When the thought came into her head— What fun it would be to play postman And deliver letters awhile; In Brother Dick’s drawer in the corner She knew there was such a pile. She only took out about twenty (Just enough to go round, you see), Then out on the sidewalk she hurried, Her merty eyes dancing with glee. Up each stairway her nimble feet pattered, Her fingers rang quickly each bell, Then under each door went a letter (More fun than you ever could tell). But how her mamma was puzzled ‘When the neighbors came, one by one, Each bringing a sweet-scented letter, Each wondering how it was done. And poor Brother Dick, when that evening He heard with the deepest surprise How his sweetheart’s notes had an airing At the mercy of other folks’ eyes. She didn’t intend to be naughty, Not at all, she contritely said, But mamma saw no other way open i Than to put her, like dolly, to bed. Dear Editor: 1have started a number of let- ters to THE CALL, but have never sentany. I am 10 years old and in the fourth grade. My papa keeps THE CALL, and Iam always looking forward to Sunday, because I like to read the children’s page so much. 8o seeing your picture of the little girl in Sunday’s paper, I thought I would write a story about it. In the picture I think that the little girl has been told to shell peas, and she wentoutin the back yard to do it. ‘When the ducklings saw what she was doing they came around her, she commenced to play with them, and spilled some of the peas on the ground, and now they are eating them up before she has a chance to pick them up again. I think ‘that she is afraid her mamma will | call her careless, 5o she is tryiug to chase them away, but they are not afraid of her, and stay waiting for her-to drop more. ALya M. SMITH, 21 Hill street, San Francisco. SAN FRANCISCO, Cal., July 6, 1896. Dear Editor: Tam a_little girl, 8 years old, and my papa has taken THE CALL for & long time. and I am 80 glad that he does take THE CaLL, because 1 love to read the children’s page. Igo to the Starr King School on Bryant street and my teacher's name is Miss Goggins. 1 was promoted from the second grade into the third grade and my mamma got me a nice gold ring for being promoted. Ihave one brother | and he is also promoted. 1 have one little canary bird and his name is ick. 1spent a very happy Fourth of July with my little cousins. _ 1 think I shall close now, hoping to see my fetter in print next Sunday. Yours truly, CARRIE STEVENS. CALISTOGA, Cal., July 6, 1896. Dear Editor: This time 1 want to teil you about the pets which my brother Johnn, and | Ihave. Johnny hasalittle black dog that he calls Sport, and he is a smart little fellow, too. | I have a cat that is about five yenrs old; she is | gray and white, and 1 call her Kitty Gray. I | | also have a pretty little kitten, which I call | Susan B. Anthony—a pretty big name for a litde cat, isn’t it? Besides the dog and cats | we have four eanary birds. Ihad four little | birds hatched this spring, but I gave two | | away, so now we have the mamma and papa | C | birds and two young ones. Of these I claim two, | Jobnny one and mamma one. | Ihaveanswered four puzzles this time, and hope they are right. Your {riend, | EVA Navose. | | i | { OAKLAND, Cal., July 5,1896. | ‘ Dear Editor: This is the first letter I have | ever written 10 you, and as I have not written | | before I hope it wiil be published. | | Tam10 yearsoldand am in the high fifth | | grade. | | Mamma likes THE CALL very much and would | | not change for anothier paper. ! 1 have a little sister and she is 4 years old. | She is always talking about school and wishes | to go. Her name is Helen. | | Iam going to send my story about the little girl and her ducks that was in last Sunday’s | paper. 7 | 1zuess I will stop now. I remain your little reader, BETH JOHNSTONE. | SAN FRANCISCO, Cal, July 5,1896. | Dear Editor: This is the first letter I have | written to you. Iam 10 years old and am go- | ing into the sixth grade. I go to the Everett Grammaf School. 1 hope my letter will be published 1n next | Sunday’s CALL. Ienjoy reading the children’s poge in THE CALL. My school closed 19th of June. I have not | triod to answer any puzzles, but I think I will | soon. I will close as your friend, MAUD TWITTENBACH. 1 | 1 OAKLAND, July 5, 1896. | Lear Editor: This is my first letter to Tne | CALL. Iwas reading over the children’s page and saw the letters, so I thought I would | write one, too. My papa has been taking THE | CaLL foralong time. I hope thatl will see my letter in next Sunday's paper. I am 9 yearsofage. Igo o the Lafayette School. I am promoted to the third. Yours truly, ZENA BROWN. SAN FRANCISco, July 5, 1806, Dear Sir: Tam 12 vears of age and was pro- moted from the primary schooi and will bea pupil of the grammar school. Iam very interested in the children's page and have been reading the letters, soI thought | I would write one, and hope to see it in next Sunday’s CALL. 1will soon try to answer some of the puz- zles. The stories and letters are very nice. This is my first letter to THE CALL and I hope it will escape the wastebasket. We have been taking THE CALL and it is superior to any other newspaper. Yours truly, AGNES L. FiLipiLe. ‘WATEONVILLE, Cal. July 6, 1896. Dear Editor: 1saw my first letter in yester- day’s CALL. Isuppose it was not in THE CaLy & week ago Sunday, because it did not reach you in time. We had a fine time on the Fourth here. There was & parade and in the evening they bad an illuminated drill by the Watsonville Drill Corps. I am going to try the puzzles now and I hope Iwill get them right. Your interested reader, JENNIE C. MORGAN, HOUTH SAN FrANCISco, July 2, 1896, Dear Editor: 1 am s littie 9.year-old. My papa takes THB CALL. I go to the South San Francisco school. My teacher’s name is Miss Stolz. I am in the third grade. Thisismy first letter 10 THE CALL, the paper I like, for it has a children’s page in it. I have threesis. ters and one brother. 1 guess I'll close my let- ter. Your little friend, ANNIE CARRERE. ComsToCK, Cal., July 8, 1896. Dear Editor: This is the first time 1 have writ- ten to THECALL. I live on & ranch sixteen miles from Hollister. Papa takes THE CALL. 1like to read the “Childhood’s Realm.” Iam 10 years 0ld, and I was promoted to the sixth grade. Irige to school on horseback, as it is a long way. It is vacation here now. Iwill send a story about the picture. I will close now, hoping to see my letter printed. From your little friend, LAURA GREEN, BAN FraNCISCO, July 12, 1896. Dear Editor: 1see 80 many letters from all the boys and girls I thought I would write one too. T am 10% years old. My mamma has been taking THE CALL for ten years. Ilike the chii- dren's page very much and I read it every Sun- day. Hoping to see my letter printed in THE SUNDAY CALL, I remein your lMttie reader, 3y HEINO. ‘COPPEROPOLIS, Cal., July 6. 1896. Dear Editor: This is my first letter. | because it hasa children’s page. Iems 1ittle girl and live on a ranch near Copperopo- lis, Ishallbe9 years old the 27th of this | and Madelena Lagomarsino, month. My papa has taken THE WEEKLY CALL for two years and thinks it is the best paper he ever read. 1send you the answers to the first, second and fifth puzzles. I am your little reader, MAUDIE WICKLIFFE. YOSEMITE, July 10, 1896. Dear Editor: 1have read the stories in the realm and thought I would like to write one also. Iam a little girl, 10 years old, and go to school in the summer. 1 have four sisters and one of them is a baby, and three brothers. One of them has a little black pony and I have a little pet dog. My father has a great many horses, so I ride every Saturday. My teacher’s name here is Miss White, and in Maders, where I live in the winter, it is Miss Elliot. Ihave not tried any of the puzzles, but my sister has. My papa takes THE CALL and we all like it very much, and I hope you will publish my letter. Yourstruly, MY E. KENNEDY. BLOOMFIELD, July 12, 1896. Dear Editor: AsIsaw my last letter in print I thought I would write again. [ am very much interested in the children's page and wish there were two pages of it. Asl saw my last piece of poetry in print I thought I would write another. Your constant reader, NoxA E. HERBERT. ME. SUN AND HIS WIFE 0ld Mr. Sun had been mad all dsy, OB, in such a blazing heat, He never could get 1o e his wite, Not even as much as her feet. His children, 100, were 50 shy of him, They pulied the black curtain down, ‘Whenever she saw his glowing face With her red-cloua nightcap on. He sald his wife was made of green cheese, 80 s0ft she'd melt &0 & Fay That he'd chanced to send her one time When her boys and girls were at play. His children? You couldn’s count them all— His wife Mrs. Moon never can. There were Jupiter, Mars, oh, such besutiful stars, Such boys never owned by man, But he never could see why his children would run, With a twinkle In one little eye, For Dear Mama moon, with one-half face in gloom, And the other 50 cross looking, my! For whenever her face has its jolly round look And she sees his red fuce going hy, She covers it up with a big back veil Til you only can see her eye. Then she covers her children all snug and neat With a great black comfor. warm, Then with lightning flashing from her eyes, Ehe thunders, *You be gone!” That's why Mr. Sun bid his jolly, round face And we miss his accustomed smile, And the tears falling fast from his watery eyes Making deluges ior over a mile. NoxA HERBERT. BLUE CANYON, Cal. July 9, 1896. Dear Editor: 1 have never written to you be- fore. Iam 12 years old. I have four sisters and three brothers. 1 think I will try a puzzle this time. Iknow the fourth one; it is, “Be just before you're generous.” I hope it i3 right. Please print this letter. 1go to school and am in the sixth grade. 1will close. Your friend, ‘WINNIE WOODBURY, SAN PaBLo, July 8, 1896. Dear Fditor: My papa takes THE CaLL and we like it very much. Ilike to read the chil- dren’s Page every Sunday, so I thought I would write you a letter and soe if you would publish it. Iamalittle girl 10 years old. I have two sisters and one brother. I just got promoted to the fiith grade. I have a little canary bird named Goldie. It hasa black top- knot. Besides I have a little pet kitten which I call | Minnie. This is the first letter I have written to you, nd I hope to see it published in next Sunday's paper. Your little friend, EL8iB A. DAvVIS. GOLDEN GATE, July 12. Dear Editor: This is our first letter to THE ike it better thau any other paper, Our papa: have been taking it for many years. We are cousins and we have many pets. Your new friends, JORNNIE FURCATE snd MARIE CARRERE. P. 8.—We hope you will not put this letter in the wastebasket, for we should be very glad to see it in print. I ! Some very useful gates: I 1. A gate given to traveling by water. 2. A gate which increases tn length. 3. Agate which purifies. 4. A gate which conquers and reduces to servitude. II. 1. Add a'smail ball to a preposition and make a brief statement. 2. Add “toslide’ and “to cover the fee.” and make very careless. 11i. Why is the city of Athens like the wick of a candle? IV. Dropped vowels: Gd gv t mn 0 tug nd twe s moy 1, n rdr ¢ TPt nhiff wht b hra V. My 1 is & bag; my 2 is a line of light; my 8, humsn. beings; my 4, part of the foot; whole is the mame of scity in the United States. VL My 1is in donkey, but not in mule. My 2 is in rod, but not in ruie. v 315 in night, butnot in day. My 4 isin measure, but not in weigh, My 5 is in laugh, but not in ery. My 6 is in bird, but not in fly. Find these letters If you can You'll have the name 'Ol o dear little man. VIL. What was the Bastile? IX. Gofor a word hunt in “Bastile.” Use the letters in each word only as often as they oceur in the given word. Use noabbreviations. X. Outof the letters of these words make the names of two flowers. (») Rise, romp. (b) Slower, fun. XI. What odd number when beheaded will become even? XII. What is that which belongs to you, but 1s most used by othors? ANSWERS, Correct answers to questions and puzzles of ,T’Blugcinle they're going to sea (see). 11. Because the editor makes puffs, while the printers make jumbles and pi. ¥ 111, A manager of & theater does not like s lighthouse, but a sailor does. IV. Heliotrope. V. As poor as a church mouse, As thin as a rail, As fat as a porpoise, As rough 83 & gale. As brown as s linnet, VI. A step farther (stepiather). VII Silence. VIII. In for & penny in for a pound. 1X. Too many cooks spoil the broth. Names of those who have sent in correct answers: For June 28, Maudie Wickliffe; for July 5, Albertina Habermacher, Edna Riecker, Grace Peterson and May E. Peters; July li Maggie Woodbury, Eva Navone, Lou Parsons THE FIVE DUCKLINGS. One fine morning the Reed family decided to take their junch and spend the day at Golden Gate Park, so that their four children— Irene, Jesste, Toddy snd Theodore—might enjoy themselves. Now we must leave Mrs. Reed to prepare lunch and hear something about Violet Brook, who lives next door to the Reeds. Violet had smelled the cakes and cookies all yesterday as they came out of the oven in Mrs. Reed’s kitchen, and could imagine seeing them put in the large basket ready to eat. Now you mwust not think Violet never got these things, for her elder sister, Fanuy, often made them. But I dare say they were not quiie as nice. Violet's father was dead and, as her mother was poor, she could not enjoy as many good things as her neighboring playmates. She watched with & longing eye as Jessie Reed went in and ou of her house on errands and listened to her—""Oh, we are going to have & spl d time. Don't you wish you could go?’ - This was very wrong in Jessie, and I really think a girl of 8 years ought to know better, though we will excuse her as she was very ex- cited. Nevertheless Violet caught every word of it and thought it over again and again and at last decided to consult with her sister Fanny. ButIam sorry to say that Fanny, who was not noted either for kindness or gentle- ness, and did not feel like consulting over any- thing, ssid: “Oh, ruu away, Vi, and do net bother me. Vera will be here in any moment togoout with me and I haven’t got my hair curled yet.” Violet said nothing, knowing it would not do any good, and ran out in the garden to speak with her best friends, the | flowers. She was out there but a very short time when a loud *good-by" was heard, and Violet looked up just in time to see the last wave of Jessie’s hand. But she did not pay much attention to it, for she was realiy hurt: no, not as much as to have even waved her hand back. Turning to the flowers again she went on Chattering. Violet stood in the center of the flower-bed, and presently the wind blew the tops of the rose-bushes about her face, as if to enable them 10 hear her woras. At a very interesting point, and where Violet expres-ed her feelings most, there came another *good-by.”” On looking up she saw Fanny and Veva go strutting off with | their curls and crimps. Now our poor little | friend was all alone. What should she do? So | tired of everything All of & sudden she heard a gruff volce saying: ‘‘Ducks! Ducks! Ducks! Ducks! Five cents aplece!”’ Violet went nearer to the fence, and, sure enough, she was quite right. Putting her finger to her forehead for a mo- ment to think how many ducks her own twenty-five pennies—which had taken her a whole year to save up—wouid buy, she soon found out that with thissum she could pur- | chase five—yes, five—dear little ducks all for hersel. Telling the man to wait a moment, away she ran to the house and returned quickly with 25 cents. “Five if you please, mister,” she said. Violet was so delighted she could hardly wait till her ducklings were out of the basket and into her own yard, It wes nearly supper time, so she got the corn and turniug the large ¢iothesbasket up- side down Violet sat upon it and soon found herself shelling corn and also scolding at her “dear children,” who gathered around and fought iz a clumsy way over one little grain, as you see in the picture. 80 happy. Assoon as supper was over the wee duck- lings were fed and tucked in a cozy nest. Violet retired early ana dreamed of all kinds and colors of ducks, big and little, but | not once of having missed golug out witu sis- ter Fanny or Mrs. Reed’s little girls. The ducks were n rreat source of comfort, and soon beeame favorite petsof every child in the neighborhood. MABEL C. SMITH (age 12). 1001 Downey avenue, Los Angeles, Cal. THE DUCKS GOT THE PEAS. «Merms,"” said Alice Emersoa, rushing in | from school and throwing her Lat on the sofa, “Florence Woods has the sweetest little ducks, and her fathe: says I may have six it I want them. May [ get them, mamma?” | “Well, dear, I suppose you can take them 1t you like,” answered Mrs. Emerson. #Oh, mamma, I sm so giad! May I go for | been sitting and ran away to put on her hat It was not very long before Mrs. Brook came | home and was very glad to see her daughter | them right away?”’ And when her mother told her she might her joy knew no bounds. “Take & basket fo bring them 1n,” said her mother; d ‘be home soon, Alice.” And Alice ran off. . Very soon she returned with her ducks. She took such good care of them that they grew very fast. 7 One day when she came home from school she found her mother sitting on the porch shelling peas. “Oh, let me shell them, mamma,” said she.. “Well, you may if you ‘want to,” replied her mother. “I am going out in the yard with my duckies, mamma, for I haven’t seen them to-day.” So she took & basket to sit on and then she came back for the peas. She sat down and began to shell her work than her pets began to gather around her. “You can’t have any of my peas,” she said to the ducks. “You can only have thé pods.” Just then seven or eight peas fell fo the ground; she stooped to pick them up, but the ducks had eaten them. Then they lifted their heads &s much as to say, “We did get some after all.” JEAN JOHNSTONE. Oekland, Cal. KILLED BY CROSSNESS. Ruth Brown was the oldest of four children; her father was s machinist on Mare Island, There being much to do at home she was obliged to help her mother about the house. One very sunshiny Saturday Ruth’'s mother gave her some peas to shell, telling her she could take them outside, it being cooler than in the kitchen. Ruth took the peas, but was not pleased with her work. She was thinking of & book she wanted to read, and forgot every- thing until she felt something nibbling at the toe of her shoe. Looking down shesaw some fluffy, downy, yellow balls of ducks, with their black eyes and broad bills asking ber in duck 1anguage to give them something to eaf, Ruth really loved them, but to-day she wascross At first she threw them the shells; these were too hard and smooth for tne tender bills of little duekies, and they began to quack, quack for something better. Ruth felt little pity, but did throw them a few of the peas. These were not much better thau the shells. A duck would get one of these litt}p green balls at the end of his bill and would roll it around several times, nearly always dropping it and going back to look for something softer. By this time Ruth wes tired, it seemed the pile of peasnever would be smaller, and in & temper she kicked at oveof the little ducks with more force than she really meant to use. Poor litde ducky rolled over a few times, turned on its back, waved its little fan-shaped feet, gave a faint quack and died. Then Ruth realized how naughty she had been. She vicked up the poor little duck and cried, but all her tears and sorrow could not give back the poor little lifs she had taken. She brought the little dead tbing to her mother, told her how sorry she was, and promised ever after to do her share of the work in a more pleasant way, and never never would she ailow her un- happiness to bring trouble to others. Vallejo, June 29. RUTH HASCAL. WHAT BECAME OF THE PEAS. One day Nannie, who isalittle girl 9 years old, was skelling some peas for dinner. Now Nannie is very fond of peas, and these were the first they had had that year, so she worked busily away, for she wauted them to be cooked for dinner. She had shelled nearly all of them when her mother called her to come and run to the store for some things. So she set the peas down ou the basket on which she had and stacted for the store, which was several blocks away. Now, although Nannte lives in the city, they nave a few chickens and ducks, and at this time Nannie had some very cun- ning little ducks, of which she was very proud, and which she had brouglt up herself, their mother having been killed by a cat when they were very small. ‘While she was at the store the little ducks came waddling along, and being very hungry after & swim in the pond they thought the peas would make a good dinmer. Sointo the pan they jumped, eating some peas and scat- tering others sround. After a while they jumped down and began eating those on the gronnd. When Naunie returned she fourd a great many of the peas gone, while there stood the ducks eating away. She did not no- tice it at first, but when she did she was very angry; but her mother consoled her by prom- ising that she would buy some morein a few days. So she gave the few that were left to tre chickens, and went into the house to help with dinner. ELSIE AKELAN (12 years old), Gualala, Mendocino County, Cal. WHAT BECAME OF THE DUCKS? The Curtis family lived on a small farm in Indiana. There was only one child in the family and her name was Mamie. Besides keeplug the farm, Mrs. Curtis sold ilk. Mamie always carried the milk to their few customers. There was one lady who took a great interest in Mamie. She noticed how much she loved pets. One day she gave her twelve large duck eggs. When Mamie reached home she ranin to her , but no sooner had she gone to | mother and said, “Mamma, Mrs. Kent gave me some duck eggs; please may Igoand put them under the setting heén by and by.” . “You may go now,” said her mother. & y Bo she.get the hen, and in four weeks they were hatched out. After awhile they werg very fat and cunning and Mamie loved them deerly. One morning she tound that there were only eleven ducklings left. The next day there were ten, then nine, until at Iast there re- mained only one. Poor Mamie could not think what had be« €ome of her Gucks. -She searclied everywhere, but found no trace of them. One day. she was hunting hen’s nests when she saw pussy purt- ing softly over & downy yellow duckling. Ms- mie screamed when she’ saw it, for it was the ast of her ducks. 4 “ “You naughty kitty,” said she, “yoq shall go to the gallows?” : The gallows was.a-rope tied in the old apple tree and iat rats and mice had +often huag there,and kitty hung there too. When kitty was dead Mamie took. her down and said a little prayer over her and then buried her. Over her grave were these words: ““This is Kitty Curtis, who killed 'and ate my dueks.” JEssiE EDWARDS. 142 San Joaquin strebt, Stockton, Cal. MARJORY'S PETS. Marjory Dayton was a poor little girl who lived in the soutbern part of Oslifornia. She had no pets except-her ducklings, of which she was very fond. She said that she would not hurt them for the world. Their mother hed died when they were but two days old. They would follow her around just as dogs do their masters and mistresses, and the only thing which kept themt from following her to school was the high fence which: they could not fly over. When she came home from school they would all rush to meet her. They even slept under and .on her bed, but she thonght.so much.of: them thet she would not drive, them away. Her father did not object to .themi, “‘as’ it was about the only pleasure the poor girl ever has,” he said, and 28 her mother was dead there was no one else t0 object to her having them around her. Inour picture we sée her shelling peas for dinner with her pets all abont her, ialking to | them all the time and pow and then scolding them in play for some misdemeanor; they all look as if they were very attentive, except one greedy little duckling who seems to be bound 10 have all the peas she had spilt, no matter what happens. She was very glad when each one laid their first eggs, because then she could earn some money of her own by selling them, Whem she had several dozen eggs she took them to San Jose to sell. She received over $10, as duck eggs were very high ana sold for 75 cents a dozen. She took the money home and put it awayin a little bank which her mother had given her, and as it was the very first money she had ever earned or had had of her own she was very proud of it. When the ducks grew older they began to sit. It was a& very droll sight to see all those ducks sitiing in a row. When the eggs hatched Marjory was very glad, because she could earn some more money then, as she was planning to build & cottage for her fatner and herself a little nearer San Jose. But one thing was remarkable, the children of that greedy duck were just like their mother, but the other ducklings were just as their mothers used to be. AGNES MAY FULTON. LITTLE NELLIE'S PEAS. Nelliehad just finished shelling the peas for dinner, when Josie Irving called to her from the gate, “Oh, Nell, come with me down to the river after sand for my bird.” “All right,” said Nellie, and so without waiting to take the peas in the house she put them down on the floor and ran off, leaving the gate open. Her mother had often scolded her for leav- ing the gate open, because Nellie had some lit- tle pet geese that would slways come into the yard if they saw the gate open. There was & bed of pansies in the yard that Nellie’s mother was very proud of. The geese were proud of it, too, as one of the best kind of places for them to scratch in, and Nellie re- membered it, when twenty minutes later she came up the walk and saw half of the pansy- bed scratched out. ‘When she reached the porch she found the geese there eating the peas up; and besides they had spilled about half of them out of the pan. “You miserable old geese,” she said, as she drove them out of the yard ard shut the gate, “you've spoiled mamma’s nice pansies and eaten a lot of my peas up, and mamma will scold me for it. “Weil,”” she thought, “I s’pose Iwas t0 blame for leaving the gate open. I guess L had better tell mamma just how it was.” “Well,” said her mother, when she had fin- ished,“there will be hardly enough peas for din- ner if we all have some, so you can go without yours, and it will help you remember to keep the gate shut after this.” Nellie was very fond of green peas, and she wisied her mother had given her a scolding instead, but it was better for her as it was, for she seldom leaves the gate open now. % CLARA KENNEDY (14 years). Goodyears Bar, Sierra County, Cal. % [1EAD In many of the papers recently there have been big black pictures of hands with the bones showing through. Some of them looked like skeleton hands with gloves on. And there were cuts of fast- closed vocketbooks revealing the money inside, and of pencils with the leads show- ing through. The insides of heads have not been photographed yet, but the great inventor, Edison, is at work on the prob- lem and he hopes before long to make a fine picture of 2 human brain. It is possi- ble that some day boys and girls may pre- sent their friends with portraits of the in- sides of their heads as well as of the out- sides. Think of that! Perhaps some of you—even though you read the papers carefully—do not under- stand how these wonderful pictures ara made. Indeed, no one in the world ex- cept a clever German experimenter named Professor Roentgen knew arything about them a few weeks ago. And when Pro- fessor Roentgen told of his discovery everybody grew interested at once and other experimenters began to work on it. One doctor in Chicago succeeded in pho- tographing a bullet on the inside ofa man's hand so that hecould tell just where to cut to get it out. It isasimple process after all. You know how ordinary photographs are made—by drawing the reflected rays of the sun from a certain object through a glass lens and allowing them to reproduce the object on a sensitive plate. Sunlight does not go through opaque objects—it is reflected from them—and so no one has ever been able to photograph the insidesof tnings. But this fact did not discourage Professor Roentgen—he thoughtit might be doneand the shape of a bologna sausage (C in the cut) and pumped the air all out of it, leav- ing it a vacuum. Into each end of this tube a wire led, and these wires were connected, as shown in the cut with a battery (E) and with an induc- tion of Rohmkoff coil (D) which in- terrupts the current many times and gives it the power of passing through the vacuum tube. When the connections are made and the current begins to flow ia very bright and beautiful blue light blazes from the end of the tube known as the cathode. This is the wonderful light that has the power of shining straight through almost any substance. Conse- quently when a man holds up his hand be- tween the tube and the sensitive plate (A) of the photographic device the light shines through it and produces a photograph in which the flesh shows light-colored, be- cause it is less hard and dense than the bones, which show dark. And if the experimenters can thus pho- toeraph the inside of things perhaps they will some day be able to photograph the inside of Tommy’s head when his mother is going away and he knows there is jam on the top shelf of the pantryl Such a picture would rather embarrass Tommy, wouldn’t it? And there is Polly. What if they could photograph her head when little Susie Perkins has & new hat? Maybe if Tommy’s head and Polly’s head could be photographed they would look something like the heads in the pic- tures,—Chicago Record. 80 he went to work to find some kind of a light that would shine throush sub- stances. He took a glass tube something i Porry's !-!:;m.