The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 20, 1897, Page 24

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JUNE 20, 1897. All members of C. R. C. should wear the club badge. By sending 50 cents to | editress, with 2-cent stamp for postage, | you will become the proud possessor of | tnis pretty silver pin. \ [Mase-Gvey (J:°m)’\éfl)m. | Childhood’s Realm is not exempt from | the mistakes of the compositor. For the Puzzle Department of last Sun- day the following conundrum was con- iributed by Miss C. Edson, one of the | members of the C. B. C.: “Why isa school- | yard larger at recess than at any other time?” the answer being, *Because there | are more feet in it then.” Imagine the consternation of the edit- | ress of Childhood’s Realm upon finding | this conundrum published in the follow- ing form on last Sunday morning: “Why | “isn’t- Mio with you? I bad hardly risen to my feet when Juiia, the eldest, came rounding round the corner of the bouse. £ “Mark!” she exclaimed, breathlessly, I've just missed her.! “From the sound,” I replied, placidly, hould say she was 1n the hen-coop!” But Jjulia could not smile. She had been anxiously looking for her little sister for a few minutes past. She and I and the little one were all that had been left at home through the whole day. In another moment we had assured our- selves that Mib was not with the hens, and now began a thorough search, which ended in failure. Not in the yard, or bouse, or garden! “What shall I do?"” cried Julia, clasping her hands; “and father and mother not coming home until to-morrow! Mib may be a thousand miles away by this time!” I did not reply to this exaggérated speech. I was standing by the brick smokehouse, near which was a dog-ken- nel. Suddenly my eyes became fixed on the kennel. Nezzar is gone, too!"” I said, OH! HOW JOLLY. is a school girl larer. at recess that any other time ?’* Imagine also, if you cen, her thoughts as to what possible answer the members | of the C. R. C. would find to such a conundrum and her doubts as to their be- ing able at all to answer so weighty a | question. It is pretty hard, however, to | find any kind of a puzzle which the C. R. | C. boys and girls cannot solve, and so it has proved in this case, for during the | week there came in the mail of the editress | the made-over conundrum and its answer, | aud here it is: *“Why isa school girl larger at recess than at any other time?’ An- swer: “Because sheis let out then.” Now, who do you suppose the bright member of C. R. C. was who furnished so good an answer to the made-over conuu- drum? Why, I think I hear a dozen of | you exclaim, “Max Selig, of course!” The Ghls - Hont on K{wk-@lfloo’@a‘{ i BY LIEUTENANT CHARLES L, BELCHER. It was at the very last of my vacation. | I had had a long leave of three months, | Nezzar was a Newfoundland dog, a year old. He had been named Nebuchadnez- zar, but the formidable appellation had | been clipped to its present proportions. ‘We soon found that the dog’s rope had been cut—cut, very jaggedly, too, as if little | fingers kad found it hard work. “Nezzar will take care of her,’” Isaid, confidently. The sun was gettinglow in the sky. The nearest house was nearly half a mile away. Of course Mib had gone down to Farmer Bray’s. She had run away there more than once since I had been 2t uncle’s. I offered to go down and see if she were not there, while Julia began her secona search over the home premises. The end of both searches was that Mib was not found, and nothing was heard of her. No wonder that Julia’'s face was pallid and anxious. I felt an ugly pulling at my own heart-strings. I went to the stable and saddled the old | | farm-horse. There was go in the beast yet, } and 1 knew he could take me much faster than my own legs could do it. When I had gone a dozen yards I pulled up and turned back. There was Julia standing looking at me. as if her gaze could outstrip me and find the child. “Do you -think she would try to go to Knuck-up Mountain?’ I asked. and now the end of August bad come and in two more days I must be off. This was the thought in my mind as I lay on the grass in the yard before my uncle’s bouse in Sanford. I had thrown down the book I had baen reading and was looking listlessly about me and feeling sorry that I must so soon “mount and go”—literally mount and go, for I was in a cavalry regiment of the reg- ular army. There was & real swarm of boys and girls at my uncle’s—eight of them, rang- g from the oldest, a girl of 20, down to *Mib,” who was not yet 4. Mib, a black-eyed little midget, into every sort of mischief and always coming out triumphant, was my pet. I had car- ried bher miles—in front of me on my gray horse—and we had had ‘such good times,” as she herself confessed. Ishould miss Miband her winsome, teasing ways. I was barely 22 myself that summer, though, of course, I felt old and very wise. Thinking of the little girl, and hearing a shrill shrieking of hens and chickens in the hen-yard, I bethought me I would go and see what new trick she had invented “Impossible,’’ was the answer. do you speak of that?’ “Because yesterday she confided to me her desire to go there and look for ame- thysts—‘’thys’ she called them,” I re- plied, recalling the words which made no impression on me at the time, notwith- standing the earnestness with which they had been spoken. *‘Ob, Icannot think she has gone there!” said Julia. Irodeon. I decided to go straight to the mountain, which rose picturesquely before me a mile away. 1 had been there many times during my visit in Sanford. It was a place lovely in itself, but particularly noted for the beauty of the quariz crystals found there, and once in a while somebody had been Iucky enough to find small amethysts, I bad been thus fortunate, and the find had been discussed with animation before Mib a few days previousiy. Down the road I went slowly, examin- ing every inch of the way for the sign that little feet had gone in thac direction. Poor luck I had, for the road was deep with dust and I could gain no hintof the small wanderer. “Why to perform for the benefit of the fowls. With a curious constriction 1 the i throat I recalled just how her chubby, fat arms had felt when she had thrown them around my neck in one of her *hug- ging fits,” as she termed them. The sun was setting in a blaze of gold when I reached the foot of the moantain. had met two men, but they had seen nothing of the child. They immediately turned and offered to help, and each started to ascend the mountain in differ- ent directions. Very soon the way became too rough for the horse, and 1 dismounted and tiea bim to a tree. By this time it was ausk, and I found mysel! fancying every dark object was the child for whom I was looking. It was the night of a full moon. In a few minutes it wounld be lighter; but I could not stand still and wait. 1 kept groving abour, falling over sticks and run- ning my head against branches. Then I|go4r iy the back entry of the house I haa would stop and shout Mib's name, giving it its full sound, until the woods rang with “Mabel Grew.”” I called Nezzar, but no answering bark came back to me. You may believe it was weary work. bear had been seen on the mountain, and he had not been Eilled. now? Save my pocket-knife, I had not brought | bear had disabled him, no doubt. 1 I remembered that, two vears ago, a | Waere was he | | black mass was a bear, lying over on his sidein & comfortable way and evidently sleeping, Not yet could I see Mib, but I could see Nezzar, who was Iying within a few inches of the bear, and who now saw me, I knew, for I could distinguish his glittering eyes— 1 saw a slight movement of his tail And now he moaned again. He could not 2et up; he was helpless. Iknew in- stantly that be had fought the animal that he might protect the child. The Wherse was Mib? I was sure the dog had gone away with her. I dared not speak, I hardly dared to breathe, for fear of rousing the bear be- fore I had decided upon some action. Had I absolutely no weapon? With what almost insane longing I thought of the rifle which was standing behind the left a few hours before. I had in my pocket a stout jackknife. The next moment the knife was in my hand, and I had begun noiselessly to climb up on the flat rock. By the time I was standing upright, my eager gaze saw a sight which almost un- nerved me. There, close to the bear—so close that the fluffy light hair mingled with the Poor lit-tle Carlo! poor lit-tle boy! Far from his home in bright Sa-voy. Far from his home, so dear and sweet, Lone-ly and sad in our crowd-ed street. any kind of a weapon with me. 1 tried to smile at the bear story, as I had smiled when I had heard it; but I could not. At last 1 leaned against a tree-trunk and waited patiently as possible until the moonlight made the place less dark. It was not a thick wood, and there were many clearings. On, on I went, shouting often, and hear- ing only an echo in response. I could not get rid of the convic:ion that the little girl had come after amethysts, but when I had been toiling until midnight I began to feel how hopeless was the ta:k of explor- ing the mountain, but I could not give it up. I had long since passed the spot where the crystals were found most frequently; but what would such & baby know about | looking in & certain place Spent with my rapid climbing in the sultry air I threw myseif down in an open space. I was nearly on top of the moun- tain. Below me at the right were a couple of deserted huts of charcoal-burn- ers. Icould just discern them now as the moonlight glimmered among the trees, Near me there dashed along over its stony bed a shallow stream. I was just telling myself that it was 100 shallow for even a baby to be drowhed in it when I heard a sound that did not seem the murmur of the water or the rustling of the leaves. I was on my feet In an in- stant and listening with strained senses. Was it a sob or a moan? I flung up my hand with boyish im- patience at the forest sounds which came between me and what I was tryine to hear. I shouted the dog’s name again, thinking if he were near he would be more likely to make some sign than would Mib. Burely that was a moan that came to me on the wings of that sorrowful August wind! I bent forward breathlessly, eager to near again, that I might know more surely which way to go. But only the wind and the night sounds were now au- dible. I did pot hesitate longer, but turned and hurried up towara the top. On the very summit I knew was an open spot, almost completely covered by a huge flat rock. In a few moments I was in a position to look across that open space, which was illuminated by the bright moonlight until small objects were visible. At the farthest edge of the flat rock lay a dark heap of something, which at first glance presented only a confusea mass tc me. Then my pulses seemed all accumulated with choking power in my throat, for, as the outlines became plainer, I could not doubt that the largest dark, coarse hair of the animal—lay little Mib, and I saw the streaks of blood on her face and that her linen frock was dab- bled with it. No light beneath those closed eyelids; they were shut fast. One little hand, doubled into a tiny fist, lay on the big, ugly paw. From the moment I had begun to come nearer, Nezzar bad made no sound; he lay with his bright eyes fixed upon me. I bad gained my breath now, and I did not hesitate. In an instant I had leaped forward and was at the bear’s throat, and my knife was stuck deep into his side. He made no movement. My foot slipped in a hollow of the rock, and I went down on my hands and knees. I had not been where I cou:d see the animal’s head, or I could have teen in that light the stark look that was upon the face, though the vosition had been so very natural. The bear was already desd. Iturned imme- diately to the child, but befora I could reach her she was sitling uprightand star- ing at me wonderingly. 1 could not speak nor move, the reaction Was 8o great; butshe had nosuch zigantic emotions 1o contend against. “Awful time!’ she said, with a conse- quential air. “Nezzar fight horrid.” And now [ saw that the blood had run from the bear'sthroat where the dog’s teeth had severed the life vein, 1 caught up Mib with trembling hands, and was soon assured that she was only scratched by brambles. Then, all of a sud- | den, I felt furiously angry with her. Why had the mite made us all suffer so? And that dog—:he noble fellow! Iset Mib rather forcibly down on the WHAT WE HOPE OuR LETTERS WILL ESCAPE rock, and gave my whole thought to Nez- zar. He was badly hart. I had very lit- tle hope of hs life then. I did whatI could to make him comfortable, then I ook Mibin my arms and dashed down the mountain toward where the horse was tied. It was not long before I was riding in‘o Uncle Grew’s yard. Mib shrisked with terror at the pace with which she went; but, satisfied of her safety, I could think only of the dog lying up there on the mountain, The whole family, save the father and mother, were summoned by the sound of the rifle which I fired. They were look- ingin a frantic way in different direc- tions, Julia was the first to come, and I deliv- ered over Mib to her, and then hurriedly began putting the horse into the wagon which was under the shed. Before be was harnessed, the eldest boy, Frank. came, and we rode up the mount- ain. We went as far as we could with the cart. Never was any human form carried more tenderly than we carried Nezzar down to the cart. Yes, he lived. I think there were tears in my eyes as I met his large, bright, pathetic glance when we lifted him up. 1t hurt him to be moved, but be bore it. He was laid on a little cot in the kitchen, a surgeon was sent for and for six weeks the dog was cared for with unremitting tenderness and vig:lance. A month or more after I rejoined my regiment Julia wrote to me: Nezzar is out again. One of his front legs will aiways be stiff; but you may belleve we have cried for joy to see him run across the piazza. Mib doesn’t much care, however. There's nothing so heartless as- childhood. Did you know she found an amethyst that time? Itwas in her little pocket when you brought her home. Iam going to have it cut and potisked to put in a ring for you.—Golden Days. Shoe-Btring Candy. Carol is a sweet little girl. Sheis my friend. We are camping with our folks in the mountains. One day last week Carol's auntie gave Her a nickel. We thought we'd like some shoe-string candy. There are no stores near our camping-place, so we bad to goto the little town. Carol went into the country store and said: “Please give me a nickel's worth of shoe strings.”” Then the man brought out a great bunch of cotton shoe strings, say- ing: '“All these for a nickel.” Carol laughed and cried: “Oh, how funny! I meant shoe-string candy!” The man looked as if he thought she was a funny little girl, as he handed her a bunch of licorice strings. ArMa M. SyTH. A Plea for the Little Ones. Give the littie children flowers! Fill their dimpled hands! Who knows What dreams of heaven may come to them With every glowing ros Dreams of the land they leit for us j sign, *“Do not pluck the flowers.” Perchance the blossoms bring, That lie Jike fallen stars on the breast Of Mother Eartn in spring. Give the little children flowers! ’Tis their birthright thus to share With butterfly and bee the wealth Of blossoms everywhere. Theirs the cherished garden treasure, Theirs the wild flowers beckoning gay In the sunny fields or ou the hills Where little footsteps stray. There are roses rare and stately, Lilies children may not touch; Many choice and curious blossoms, Tempting little fingers much; But where's the child who doesn’t learn That at his joyous tread The gay aud golden poppy smiles And daisy nods her head ? Free and blithe our hillside poppies Aud tne garden daisies call, Pink and white and gold they beckon, “Welcome, children, one and all”—; But, oh, the little reaching hands And feet that may not stray From the crowded city’s courts and streets To gather flowers to-day! Give these little enildren flowers, For from Paradise the twain Came 10 gladden human hearts, we know, To lighten toil and pain. Fill their dimpled hands uplifted For tne blossoms, fair as they! In this land of flowers and sunshine Let them think 'tis always May. ELLA M. SEXTON. [The above lines were suggested by the long- ing looks children cast at flowers in the park, and the disappointment they show when their poor mothers tell them *No,” and point to the Surely, in this land of summer there might be flowers planted for them. Flowers free for these chil- dren of the courts and narrow streets; daisics, geraniums, marguerites and poppies, that the dear little ones so fondly love. E. M. SEXTON.] GERTRUDE. Dear Editress: We are? harvesting now and will be through in a few days. Igo in swimning almost every day and have a good deal of fun. 1havea little baby brother 4 months old, and he is ascute as he can be. 1am 11 years oid and am in the sixth grad We have school only in winter here so I have long vacation. We are going to have & large crop of fruit this year; the apple trees are loaded with fruit. 1 was up in the mountains the other day and saw a great many snow plants. All around our house are beautiful flowers of all kinds. Ithink Sowers are very nice, My father has three ranches—one where we live, another five miles away and another about six miles away. 1remain your constant reader, \ WILLTE CROOKS (C. R. C.). BAY FARM ISLAND. Dear Editress: This 1s my first letter to THE CALL. As I have not seen any letters from here I thought I would write one. Iam 10 years old and in the fourth grade in school. I ride to school in a wagon. 1o to the Witson School in Alameda. Ilike to read the Sunday CALL very much, and my mother has taken your paper from the time she was a little giri and wouldn’t have any otner in the house. Your consiant reader, NELLIE BURNS. SANTA CRUZ.- Dear Editress: This is my firstletter to THE CALL. Ihope tosee itin print. My father has taken THE CALL for many yearsand we all enjoy it. Ilove to read the children’s page very much. First1lived in Stanislaus County. It is a year now that [ have lived in Santa Cruz. I iike Santa Cruz better, because it has a nice beach and beautiful gardens with flowers all summer and winter. My mother is going to take me to Europs next month and we are goiug to have THE CaLLsent tous. Your constant reader, GILDA E. CANALE. PATENT BRICK YARD, June 13, 1897. Dear Editress: I.um a little boy 9 years old. I have two dogs and three ducks for my pets. 1go to the ixio School and am in tne fourth FHE: BAD Mrs. Solomon Ant Each day goes by, Leading her son, A tear in her eye For if sent'to school, He .runs away — This small bad ant So full of play! EIFPEEE ANT. grade. My father bas taken THE CALL for twenty years. - As this is my first letter I hope it will escape the wastebasket. Your litile reader, ALFRED ANDERSON. MILL VALLEY, June 15, 1897. Dear Editress: 1 have always wished to write to THE CALL and at last I am doing it. 1goto the Mill Valley school. Ithink it is one of the best schools in California. I like my teacher very much. Iam 8 vearsold and will be promoted to the fourth grade. I havea little kitty which I taught to jump the second | Your affectionate friend, IRENE COFFIN. 8AN FRANCISCO. Dear Editress: T hope you will think my letter worthy of your kind consideration. I take great pleasure in reading Childhood's Realm and hope soon to becvme a mem ber of your club. - During vacation I think Ishail be in the country. I have two dear little puppies. day I had her. One named Alvin, after the gentleman who gave him to | us, and the other i3 still without a name. We also have for pets Tabby, the cat, and thre birds, Alabama, Susie and Emily." 1remain your interested reader, 1 CAMPBELL. SEDAN. Dear Editress: My paps takes THE CALL and I read the letters from oth, children. Itrap ¢quirrels for papa and he gives me one cent apiece. It is vacation now and Iam having lotsof fun. I hope I shall see this in THE CaLL. Your little friend. ETHER XELLEY, —What shall I have to do to join the C. R, C. ana get a badge? ETHER KELLEY. COLUMBIA. Dear Editress: We thought we would write another letter letting you know that we are staying with our auntie. time this week. We wish all the little readers of THE CALL were up here to have a fine ti with us. The town of Sonora was beautitully decorated for the convention of the Native Daughters. They had two arches. One looked very much lixe marble. Your friends, MARY ALVES, MARY RODGERS. GREAT WEST Dear Editress: aletter. eighth grade. I have a large white rabbit named Scrub, and a doz, Jack. 1salso havea hen with ten little enickens. W pleasant weather up here now LAKE COUNTY. I thought I would write you My brother and I went fishing the other day, put we oaly | caught & very small fish. Yours truly, JENNIE MCCAT Dear Editress: 1 received my badge safe and am delighted with it. I wear it 10 school. My ciassmates all admire it very much and anxious to join our ciub so they can wear one also. I atlena the Mission Grammar School and expect to be honorary. My | teacher’s name is Miss Horn and I love her dearly. Iam very grateful to you for pub! ing my puzz e and shall soon send in another one. Your friend, EvA M. BOLGER (C.R.C.). LEMOORE. Deer Editress: 1have not written to you for along time. I have just coms home from & trip up in the Sierra Nevada Mountaius at Angels Camp, Calaveras County, near which place we have relatives living. We weie gone amonth. There were thirteen in the party. Ihad a fine time,ns there were other girls about my own age in the company. Your faithful reader, FLOY HaYs. .- L My 11s in seetne, but not in boil; My 2 is in dirt, but not in soil; My 3 is in withe, but not in reed; My 4 is in striog, but ot in bead; My 5 is in toy, but not in girl; My 6 is n bang, but not in curl, My whole is a greet electrician. HARTLEY JACKSON (C. R. C.). 1L Diamonds. A letter in alert, A short poem, A boy's name. An organ of the body. . A letter in alert. Original. EDGAR RANDALL (C. R. C.). TIL 1. A letter in late. 2. The whole. 8. Agirl's nsme. 4. Frozen water. 5. A letter in late. Original. OL6A MEYER (C. R. C.). popr ) We have had a nice | I am 13 years old aad am in the | have very | IV. Place three sixes together so as to make seven, | Seleated. Lizzie M. WIENKE (C. R C) v | "BeD i | setectea. IpA WIGHTMAN (C. R. C.) VL - Hidden Birds. | (a) Ruth rushed to the rescue. | (b) I Was at the show last week. () The brook was very deep. Original. R. 0. LixcoLw (C. R. C.). VIL (a) Behead an iuteresting game, and nave a boy’s name. | () Benead a pet name, and have an orgen | of the body. | () Behead a:luminous heaven! body, and | have a restnous bod | Original RETHA WALDAU (C. R. C.). )} VIIL Aa, ee, gg, b, i, 1i, m, nm, 0000, rr, ssss, tt. The above letters when properiy arranged words. HAMBERGER (C. R. C.), form & maxim of s RUE Adaition. (a) A animal + to dine equals a sauce. | (») Precise + a flower equals a flower. | A mother + to make request equals & | figured cloth. | (d) An animal + relatives equals & kind of | flower. | (¢) Relatives + a short sleep equals to steal. Original GRACE Lo (C.R. C). | X. Ansgrams and definitions. | (a) Sirong lion’s share almost gone—A | maxim. Selected. FRED ANTHES (C. R. C.) | (@) “Won half the new world’s glory’—A \;n-u‘. poet. IX, (c) “Flit onm, cheering angel’ —A noble | " (@) “Govern a nice quiet land”—A great | ruler. Selected. | L (a) Twesk—weak, (b) Twine—wine. (¢) Cape—ape. (d) Node—ode, © n—even—eve. (@) (Mistake in question). (b Estelle. (¢) Edgar. (d) Theodore. te) Vera. 1L Hare, pony, cat and dog. 1V. () Washington. | (b) Franklin, () Lincoln. e R O 8 E o V.ER 1L | i 1 VL M | viL IL. Cevennes. @) Tonsured, { | | | | (7es) roundest, unsorted and | unstore (0) Max Selig. (a) Mistake. (b) To Pekin (Peek in). (c) Because the bed don’t come to you. (d) Because she speaks often (10) of them, Answers to puzzies of Jane 13 have been re« ceived from the following members of C. R. C.: 9 7 ightman 8| Theo Joos . 1 €6, from Beckie Heino. For June 6, irom Jennie Tuily, 1. Gorrespondents’ Golumn. Jennie McC.—All communications should be written only on one side of the paper. Charles 0.—Glad to have another drawing | any time. | Minnie V.—Are your drawing and rhyme | original? Besides letters published pleasant commu- have buen received from the fol- |Mary J. Marcum Edith Martin > D. parrish I Watking Herbert Campbeil e Heino (C. R. €.) | Jenn e Rasmussen Annie Jones (C. R. C.) McDermott L S H (C R €Y Thiele Ruth is ary Lambert Willie Gilligan slamie Kellozg (C.R.C.)| M. Velladoes (C. R. C.) | Mary Macay | Alice Thompson(C. &.C.) | Viole: Callahan May Be h I'heo 4oos (C. B. C.) Mae teynolds (C. . C.) | GEX(}guLgT Regeives. Weeklies: 5 1—Harper's Rouad Table. —Youth’s Companion. 3—Golden Days. Monthlies: 1—Kindergarten New —Donahoe's Magazine. 3—“Qur Little Ones and the Nursery.'® CHERRIES RIPE, Gorrect Answers for dJune 13. | | | X