The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 25, 1896, Page 24

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, OCIOBER 25, 1396. said Dorothy D. can be. I"m sick of “m Sick of “mustn’ts” &8 morning til! close of day stn’t” and never a “may.” stn't ie there likea sleepy head,” | mustn’t sit up whén it’s time lnri From ear! sin’t ery when I comb your eurl ith those noisy girls”; hen spoken to”; 't chatter a¥ parrots do”; “You mustn’'t be pert and you mustn’t be | “You mu: “Your gle or laugh aloud”; 't rumple you nice clean dress”; tnod in place of a yes.” y long the “mustn’ts” go, night of an endiess row * with great big eyes in shocked surprise— I shall live to see the day e one will say to me, “Dear, you | ick of “mustn’ts,” said Dorothy I; For I'm Sick of “mustn’ts” as I can be. R WILCOX, in The Sunny Hour. ELLA WHE R H1§ NAME WAS HAYSEED The Outside Was Rough, but Within Was Pure Gold JENNIE C. HOLMES, IN OUR BOYS AND GIRLS *What is your name?"”’ eed.” ur name, my boy”; there was a ich of sternness in Miss Armstead’s nner. She was the new teacher and taking tbe names of the scholars. “Hayseed,” again said tha boy. There were no signs of intentional disre- spect in the freckled face uplifted to an- swer her question, but surely he was not giving his name correctly. Miss Armstead thought. She glanced around the room, but there were no smiles on the faces of the other scholars. “Your full name,” she said once more. “Hayseed, ma’am,” he replied. “Have you brothers and sisters?’ “Yes'm."’, “How many?” “Sixteen.” What stories was this boy telling her, she wondered. “Are they all named ‘Hayseed?' ' “Oh, no, ma'am; I'm the only one named Hayseed.” Evidently no disrespect was intended and she must seek an explanation eise- where. At recess she called one of the older boys to her. “Please tell me the name of the boy who calls himself *Hayseed.’'” vy, that's it; just ‘Hayseed.! You this way; his folks live down in the city. They’re very poor, and there's sixteen more of ’em besides ‘Hayseed.” He was born onc Presidential election time, when Hayes and Tilden were the candi- dates. His mother wanted to’ call him Tilden and his father would call him Hayes; so they named him Tilden Hayes, and as his surname is Ead and they called him Hayes, why, you see, it just makes him ‘Hayseed.”” Miss Armstead laughed. It was a very queer combination of names, but “Hay- seed””it was, or something as near that as possible in sound. “Mr. Forsythe took him to live with him last fall. 1 guess he doesn’t fare any too well, but Mr. Forsythe is-going to let him go to school this summer; only this summer, I guess, for Mr Korsythe is a pretty hard man to work for.” “That isall, thank you,” said Miss Arm- stead. Gossip was not to be encouraged in the slightest degree by ber. She had obtained the desired information and the informant was dismissed, but there was a look of pity in her eye when “*Hayseed'’ came in after recess. He was a forlorn, paihetic little object to look upon. Hayes had told her he was 10 years of age, but he did not look more than eight. The face would not have been unattractive If clean, but evidently soap aud water had not come in contact with it that day. His hair was light, but the eyes were bright, and though freckles and dirt struggled with each other for supremacy, the forehead was fair, show- ing what the complexion would be if cared for. He wore a shirt that had once been white, but it had not visited the washtub forsome time, evidently. His other gar- ment was a pair of trousers that some man had once worn. The legs had been cut off—no other changes had been made. One suspender heid them 1n place; it was attached by a single button at the back and crossed the left shoulder to a single button in front. But Hayes was quite indifferent to the peculiarities of his apparel. He could read; was fairly well advanced in arith- metic; had studied *“‘jography” one term, but his spelling was a dead failure. It seemed impossible for him to master the art. Miss Armstead was in the habit of drill- ing the more advanced pupils in mental wa multiplied by 4 minus 6 multiplied by 14 divided by 8—what do you get as the an- swer?” Much to her surprise, up went Hayes’ hand, to signify that he had it. “Well, Hayes, what is1t?"’ she said, “Seven,’’ said the boy. “Did you work the example?” “No, ma'am, I gubssed it,’” was the self- satisfied reply. But one thing that Hayes was notorious for among the other boys was what they termed his cowardice, and “Coward” was the name frequently hurled at him ina contemptuous tone when Miss Armstead was not within hearing. He never resented it; if struck by another boy he never re- turned the blow. He was a timid boy, owing more to unkind treatment than to natural cowardice, The schoolbouse stood in a very lonely place, having but one thing in its favor as a location—it stood exactly in the center of the district on a back road setdom traveled, with white birches, aldersand a heavier growth of timber all about. Most of the scholars came “‘cross lots’’ from dif- ferent directions. - Miss Armstead herself came and went across the fields to shorten her walk, and a number of ber flock kept her company. There was a brook which they crossed on stepping-stones, but Hayes, whose route home lay that way, would almostin- variably spring up the nearest tree, swing himseli hand over hand from branch to branch and drop to the ground on the opposite side of the stream before half the children were over, and then he would help the smallest across. He was always kind to dumb animals. A mouse had visited the schoolroom fre- quently, coming through a crack in the floor, and bare feet would be quickly drawn up whenever it appeared. With some shingles and a bit of twine Hayes fashioned a trap, baited it witha scrap of cheese from somebody’s dinner- basket and the next morning the mouse was a prisoner. Some of the boys thought there would be some sport now in killing the trembling little thing, but Hayes thought differently. He kept the little creature safe all day and on the way home opened the trap near a barn and the mouse scampered away unhtrt. Tim Adams cried, **Coward!” Bessie, Tim’s sister, slipped her little hard into Hayes’, and with an indig- nant look at her brother, said, “Youain’t a coward; be you, ‘Hayseed’?” “Yes, 1 s'pose so,” said Hayes; *“the boys all say 1am."” Not long after this a sad thing happened. Farmer Adams, the father of Bessie and Tim, was gored to death by a bull that at- tacked him in his barnyard. Mr. Adams had been district committeeman and the school was closed the day of his burial. Most of the scholars attended the fu- neral, and every night since then, on their way home with Miss Armstead, they had talked of him as they passed his old home. The bull was kept in the barn yet, they knew, aithough he was scon to be sold. Several pairs of eyes, with looks of fear in them, gazed at the thick oaken door of the barn and crowded more closely around Miss Armstead as they passed it. Tim and Bessie had come back to school ; very sad and quiet they were, too. A week after the terrible occurrence they were on their way home; Hayes and several more were with them and Miss Armstead. For a quarter of a mile before you reached the Adams home a rocky precipice bordered one side of the road; there wasa | board fence ten feet in height on the other | side, which inclosed a plot of ground used as a racecourse and also as a baseball | ground. It was only two miles from a large town, and in summertime the grounds were frequently in use. One evening Miss Armstead and the scholars had gone about half the length of the fence, when down the road they saw a cloud of dust moving toward them. Miss Armstead divined the cause. The children, with the exception of Hayes, had not noticed it, but soon a- faint, ominous roar came to their ears. “The bull has got loose, Miss Armstead, and is coming for us!”’ It was Hayes that said this, but in a very quiet manner. in a moment the children were in a panic, clutching Miss Armstead’s dress and screaming. What should she do? For an eighth of a mile in each airection was that high board fence which no one could scale and on the other side that rocky precipice! There seemed to be no way of escape. She might have escaped herself, but she could not leave those little onzs! In the meantime the bellowing grew louder. The bull was coming on at full speed. “‘Miss Armstead, come on quick!” cried Hayes; “this way; follow me!” She did not understand, out she obeyed as if he had been the master and she the pupil. Taking the smallest—one by each hand—and telling the rest to come, she turned to follow Hayes. Back a few yards, up to what seemed solid plank, he led them, and in the twinkling of an eve one of the heavy planks slid back, leaving an ovening large enough to admit one per- son. In the meantime the brute had gained upon them; they could not hope to get out of his reach in time. “‘Miss Armstead, give me your cape,” and Hayes had snatched it from her shoulders and sprung out to what seemed cer:uin death, directly in front of the ani- mal. Miss Armstead believed that her time to die had come, but she determned to save her little pupils if possible. Calling them, one after another, she tumbled them through the opening in the fence. She glanced up as the last one went through, and saw Hayes waving her cape with its red lining almost in the face of the bull, and eluding its attack with the agility of a trained matador. Then she crept through the opening herself, pray- arithmetic, and one day she gave them this example: “Take 6 multiplied by 9 divided by 2 muitiplied by 3 plus 9 divided by. 10 my*inlied by 12 divided by 24 minus2 ing that he might have a chance to run the distance and follow her, but the boy bad other intentions. When all the others were safe, he gave the cape a final toss in the face of the bull, and sprang to one side just in time to elude the lowered that grew on the edge of the declivity, he was quickly out of reach. The infuriated animal now made a charge directly at the fence. As itdid so one of its horns passed through a knot- hole in a board, which, for a moment, held it fast. Then it jerked its head back and the board gaye way, remaining factened to the animal’s horns, In striving to tree itself from this awk- ward incumbrance, the bull went back against the railing at the edge of the pre- cipice. This would not stand the pressure, and the next moment the animal went over the brink. It was found later, dead; the fall had kilied it. Hayes’ face soon appeared at the open- ing. “Come on, Miss Armstead,” he cried; “it's all right; he’s a goner!” Thanks to the courage and the presen ce of mind of the boy ghey had called coward, the teacher and her little scholars were safe. As for Hayes, he subsided at once into the same timid little fellow and made his appearance at school the next morning as if nothing unusual had happened. “How did you know about that loose board in the fence?” Miss Armstead asked. *I and another boy crept through there once to see a baseball game.” The hero was a very human boy, after all. *‘Well, Hayes, nail that board on, and I will give you a ticket to attend every ball game that is played there this season.”’ Miss Armstead is dow Mrs. Morgan, and she lives in the city of B——. Some repairs were needed in the cellar of her house this summer and Mr. Morgan senta young man to do the'work. When she went out to give him some directions, he said: *You do not know me, Mrs. Morgan?’ *Noj; I think I have never seen you be- fore.” 5 *‘My name is Tilden H. Ead. ‘Hayseed’ they used to call me.”” “You arenot Hayes Ead!* Why, Hayes, I never should have known you,” and she took the fine-looking young man by both hands. ‘“‘You saved my life once and the lives of the scbolars, besides. Do you live here in the city 2" “Yes, Mrs. Morgan, [ learned the car- peater's trade after leaving Mr. For- sythe’s. Ilived with him two years after you left. 1 believe I always had an in- clination toward that trade. . The mouse- trap I made at school was my first piece of work in that line. Do you remember it “Indeed I do, and that you were too kindhearted to kill the mouse. Are you doing well?” i *‘Very we!l, thank .you. I have all the work I can.do und earn good wages. I have just taken a contract to build two new houses and I’'m not quite 21 yet.” Had Mrs. Morgan been inclined to doubt “‘Hayseed’s’” identity, one 1tem in the bill would have convinced her. It read, ‘‘One sullar door, $2.”" Butit was a well-made door and was hung in a workmanlike manner. horns; then, seizing the limb of a tree | P (TP PYPPY TALESY NO. 5 PUPPY TRIMS A HAT. By Olive Heyden As puppy grew.larger he needed more things to_play with and so he began turn- ing boxes upside down in the basement. In a barrel of old clothes he found an_old white straw hat. He admired that hat, but he thought it needed retrimming, so he took:it up on the porch one day, and looking at it for some time with his head down between his front paws and_one ear turned back, he came to the conclusion that the hat must have something done to it. I beard him barking and dancing, I went out and the hat was trimmed. ¥rom the slopbucket he nad picked out some big, curly leaves of lettuce and some old These were piled all withered flowers, WAITING FOR PAPA. over the hat and puppy was anxiously calling for some one to come and admire his taste. He kept the hat a longtime, trimming it over every day or two. Puappy knew how to carry kindling, too, and once in a while when he wanted an excuse for coming into the house he would bring a pile of wood up cn the poreh and then scratch on the door. Of course we'd open it and the wise fellow would put Lis kindling in the bex, feeling that he would be allowed to stay and visit us a while. Sometimes we wanted him to carry kind- ling to show him off, but he'd alwiys act silly, drop the wood on the steps or chase up and down with one piece in his mouth. I'd scold him for being so naughty and then he’d look at me so sorry with tearsin his lovely brown eyes that I would forgive and pet him. His coat was the color of a brown cigar box and as glossy as satin. The hair on his ears and tail was long and cutly and the dear littie fellow never kept still. It was not long before he was big enough to step over the little fence between his quar- ters and my garden. Don’t you think it strange that he never did? Many times he sits and cries when Iam on the other side, but he seems to understand that he must not jump over. Earth’s Most Valuable Product. “Now, Freddy,” said the teacher, who had just read a chapter about minerals, “‘what are the most valuable things that we get out of the earth?'’ “L know,” replied Freddy, who was —————— | The ordinary speed of s house-fly 1s l thinking about a fishing expedition that twenty-five feet a second; but when chased it often attains a speed 0160 feet a second. be had planned for tae mnext day. “Worms!”"—Youth. CHE HABNCED CASCTLE. PART IV. By L. M. Robbins. . [PHIL BARKER'S VERSION OF THE MYSTERY.] In ‘this very house, many years ago, lived a man and his beautiful young wife. One morning in the bright summer time of the year the husband departed on a hunting trip. “Ishall be home early,” were the words he gayly shouted to his bride as she stood with tears in her eyes watching his de- parture. During the long hours of the day she strolled through the spacious grounds, and it so happened that she accidentally fell into an old weil and was drowned. ‘When the hunter returned he looked in vain for his sweet wife, but nowhere conld she be found, For days and days he searched, and finally found her body floating on the top of the old well. ‘The poor fellow rusked screaming in and out of the house to the well until at last, frenzied with grief, he jumped into the well and was drowned. At 12 o’clock each night a rumbling noise is here heard, and ‘“water spirits’”’ are seen marching from the old well. ‘I'hey go the castle, moaning and scream- ing on their way, but always disappear at the first gleam of light from the dear old sun, Just at the conclusion of this thrilling tale, ‘‘tap, tap, tap,” sounded against the window-panes; then a low moan swept through the room. Of course this startled the merry group, and it took quite a while forsthem to be convinced that only a harmless bat wasghe cause of all the dis- turbance. Now, for ‘the grounds! Of course we must peep into the well! Ugh! it makes me shiver to think of it.. But they did, all the same. Through the grounds into the old stable, and beside the moss-grown well.did these happy young folks linger: Tnen for home. The sun’s rays were slanting low, shadows deep were every- where as this joyous band homeward took its way through pleasant lanes and mead- ows green, full of happy thoughtd about the wonderful old haunted castle and its mysteries, (g Forsox, Oct. 15, 1896. This is the first letter I have written to THE CALL. Iam a Republican, but my papa is & Democrat, so we don’t agree. I hove he will get beaten. 'WILLIE CORN, 7 years old. Dear Mflor." OAKLAND, Cal, Oct. 16, 1896. Dear Editor: Iam 4 little boy seven years old. Iamin the second grade at the Tomp- kins School. Iwas born in Sacramento in the year 1889. Iam going to ask you a question now: Are you for McKinley or Bryan ? Your reader, COLUMBUS RAFFETTS. CrrY, Oct. 16, 1896, Dear Editor: This is my first letter to THR CaLL. Iread the page for children. 1 tried to solve all the puzazies this week. I could not get all of them, but did the best I could. Iam 14 years oid and am in the eighth grade at the Hamilton Grammar School. I get the gold medal for scholarship when 1 reach the high- est per cent. Ilike my teacher very much, for she is kind to the pupils. Ihave time this week to try to get your puzzles, because we have vacation. We have had none since July. Iwish we would have Do houseywork Sundav Ch?v Orfhan, Cx)fkdj‘- A TRUE STORY. Twenty-two little turkeys Were hatched by two hens, And, one by one, some of them Came to bad ends; Till only six turkeys Were shivering with cold. The old hens had weaned them When scarce a month old. And now, when the raln comes, - Qh, where can they go— Each disconsolate turkey, The picture of woe? It was time for a venture, So the poor little things Crept up for a shelter ’Neath the old rooster’s wings. That old Brahma rooster Didn’t say, “What a fix1” But with his broad wings He sheltered all six. And not only then, But the next rainy day, * He sheltered them all In the same friendly way. night, and then I could try and write every week, Iride a bike, and had an accident last week. A buggy on Marketstreet collided with my wheel, but I did not receive serious in- juries—only a scalp wound. My little brother will write next week. Hoping tosee my letter in Childhood’s Reaim, 1 am your little friend, MAurice REIcH, 1436 O’Farrell street. PRUNEDALE, Sept. 31, 1896. Editor of the Call: Ihave read some of the letters which the hittle children have written to you, and so I think I will also write a letter. Iama girl of 13 years. I go to the Lake Dis- trict School. Ilive near Salinas, in the coun- try. Ihave very pleasant times riding horse- back. We have a library which belongs to our school, and it contains some real good books. There are thirty-four children who attend sckool in our district. I have a sister 15 years old, and a dear little brother who is just6. I remain, your friend, MAMIE HARRIS, OAKLAND, Oct. 7, 1896. Dear Editor: I am a little girl 8 yearsold. I g0 to the Grove-street School. My teacher’s name is Mrs. Scanlan. She is a kind teacher and I love her very much. I have iwo littie birds, one named Dick, the other Pete. Dur- ing vacation wmamma, Brother Frankie and myself went to Truckee to visit mamma’s friend, Mrs. Long. We had a lovely time, run- ping up the mountains, gathering grass and wild flowers. . We also went to Donner Lake fishing and had lots of sport. Ihad my doll with me, and Mrs. Loug made her a dress with big sleeves, and it is very becoming to her. Ikeep it for her Sunday dress. My brotner Frankie wrote a letter to you, so 1 thougnt I would write too. - I enjoy reading “Childhood’s Realm,” so ase.do hot throw my letter into the waste-basket. Your new friend, CARRIE KITTIE GRAHAM. CALISTOGA, Cal., Oct. 18, 1896, Dear Editor: It has been quite a while since I have had anything in THE CALL, the paper which my father has taken off and on for about fifteen years. Ilike the pretty pictures of scenery, etc., which sometimes appear in THE SUNDAY CALL. When I see a picture I like it is sure to be cut out and deposited in a box until I am ready to draw it. I havedrawn lots of nice pictures from newspapers durlng the last two months. Ilike the story of “The Haunted Castle,”” now being published in THE CALL. I think the ‘*Childhood’s Realm” is the best children’s page I have seen. You asked us to try making up puzzles this week, and I have done as you requested. Your con- stant reader, M. EvVA NAVONE. SAN Fraxcisco, Oct. 18, 1896. Dear Editor: We have been taking THE CaLL for four months, and intend to take it right along. 1 am very much interested in the children’s page. I go toschool, and am in the third grade. I am 9 years old. Iattend the Marshall Primary School. I remain your loving friend, ISABELLE REID. 8AN FRANCISCO, October 12, 1896. Dear Editor: Tam a little boy 7 years old. My papa is & poiiceman and his beat is on Stockton street. We have been taking THE CALL for eight years and we like it very much. My mamma reads me the chiidren’s page and all the little letters every Sunday. I have a little pug dog; he will situp and his name is Toby. 1sm & McKinley man. Ihope he will be our next President. I hope you will pub- lish my letter in your paper, From your friend, HARRY PESHON, 27 Hartford street. SELBY, Cal., Sep'ember 30, 1896, Dear Editor: This is my first letter to THE CALL. Iam alittle girl 10 years old. I have been going to school two years, and I am in the fourth grade. My teacher’s name is Miss George. 1 have a little baby sister 8 weeks old. Sheissocunning. I think I must close now, as my letter is growing long. Good-by. Your new friend. Lizzie WINDALL. Dear Editor: 1take great pleasure in read- ing “Chilahood’s'Realm,” which is published in Sunday’s CALL. Ilivein Humboldt County, and 1n the summer I live atour country resi- dence, called ““The Laurels.” We live near the Van Duzen River, and have a boat on it. 1 enjoy rowing very much. Perhaps you have seen & picture of our home in the Overland Montnly. My mother and sister are very fond of fishing. I enjoy it exceedingly myself. Your true friend, CARLOTTA MAE VANCE, 12 years old. “The Laurels,” Oct. 16, 1896. SAN FRANCISCO, Oct. 18, 1896. Dear Editor: 1 am a little girl, 7 years old. I nave two sisters and two brothers. This week we had a vacation, and we had a picnic on Strawberry Hill last Monday. On Wednes- day my sister and I'spent the day at the Mis- sfon, with friends of mamma’s, and we had a tea party,and had alovely time. This jsmy first letter to THE CALL, and I hope you will put it in next Sunday’s paper. Yours trgly, g ETHEL CHASE. LiNcoLN, Placer County, Cal., Oct. 15, 1896, Dear Editor: This is my first letter to THE CaLL. I have read other letters in THE The farmer’s wife saw it, And said, “I declare, Kind-hearted old fellow! Your life I will spare, 1 fully intended To take off your head ; But those two old hens Shall lose theirs instead,” aaen My dear little children, You always will find, With folks or with fowls, It pays to be kind. Mgs. H. E. JENKINS in Our Little Ones and the Nursery, CALL on the Children’s Page. I am but 10 lyenrs old and in the high sixth grade of the Pacific Heights Grammar School. Ilive in San Francisco, but am taking a vacation on my grandpa’s ranch, six miles from Lincoln. My father and grandfather both take THE CALL tand like it very much. Now we will talk politics. Of course you are for McKiniey and so am I Won't it make “Billy” Bryan feel hot when William McKinley gets elected? I hope he will make times better and have the gold standard and protection. Remaining your friend, RoY FULLER. LES IR < NE) , il i P L If Rider Haggard had been Lew Wallace what would “She” have been?—Hazel O’Neil, 1I. Why was the first day of Adam’s life the longest ever known?—E. K. 1L Dropped vowels from old sayings: s cin s pnny. s drk s plL 8 hrd s mll sto, s bur s gll s fn s fddl s clr s blL 8 dry s hrrng. s dp s wiL IV. My first is one hundred and four; my second, one hundred and fiity more; my whole, each one must be and seem 10 gain re- spect and true esteem.—Alice Bell. V. Pi. 111, ice, bea. Name of a prominent puzzle solver. , Max SELIG. VI Easy word square. A vehicle. A plane surfnce, that which 1s true and a story. VIL From the following words form a well. known proverb: Glove, my, mole, dove. VIIL Transpose these letters: Nngrirvbo—a t. IX. Niodse—a scientist. X. Aentdslog—a statesman. XL Elsatyn—a traveler. XII. Iigvrn—an actor. XIIL. What is that which, if a man has, he wishes to gain, but if he gains it, he has it no longer? CORRECT ANSWERS. 1. Bangle, angle. II. Orations, rations. 11I. Narrow, arrow. 1V. Atlas. V. Ulster. VI Shanghal. VIL. Bristol. VIIL Cod. IX. Spare the rod an X. Goat, oat, at, t. XL a spoil the child, PROHER oE9OHR Hp=go Wk HE b ERa> rEEA STEELS As pure as an angel, As neat asa pin, As smart as a steel trap, As ugly as sin; As dead as & door neil, As white as a sheet, As flat os a panceke, As red as a beet. XIII Canton. Puzzlgoh)ers. Oct. 18.—Alice Bell, Max Selig, Maurice Reich, Beulah Masterson. Oct. 18.—Ida C. Wightman, Willie Carries, Rica Littan, Ella B. Hartnell, Ethel Holmes, Allce Beli and Beulah Masterson. Pleasant Letters Received. For pleasant letters received from the fol- lowing we bestow heartielt thanis: Mrs. Henry Morzis, San Diego; Mrs. E.J. Cefferty, Sunnyside; Ruth Bentley, Gilroy; Henrietta Johnson, Oakland; Aurelia Thomas Musante, Eisie Cahill, Marie Lingelser, James Pricleany, E.K., Anna Mullen, Hazel U'.\'PH.V Alice Me- Govern, Willie Lyons and Anna Bell Bailey. TIRED OUT. —Our Little Ones and the Nursery. [ )