The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 4, 1897, Page 24

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JULY 4, Y @af\-»\f "’/;fi& OWENS = JULY & o STONE < RuUBY FLOWER < by doy in CaliSernia. Sails the snowy cloud so lightly, Over skies of blue; Smiles the summer sun so brightly, Gently falls the dew. Every breeze with fragrance freighted, Lilies rich and rare, All the trees with warblers weighted ; Sweet notes fill the air. M. W. R. I call your attention to-day to the ex- cellent original puzzles contributed by Taa Wightman. I wish more of the mem- bers would take an interest in this depart- ment. 1 am afraid getting all about that *‘roll of honor.” It is gratifying to feel that you are ail so pleased with the badge, but how could you help liking it, especially when you jeel that by your own efforts you have earned the right to wear the pretty pins of our club, ana by giving pleasure to others besides, for that’s what you do when you contribute any article worthy of publication on the children’s page. Ghe F('Yj't Naval éalotf to Oor Flag. The ship Ranger, bearing the Stars and Stripes and commanded by Captain Paul Jones, arrived at a French port about De- cember 1, 177 On Febraary 14,1778, her flag received the first salute ever paid to the American flag by foreign naval vessels. L Little §ine 5 of Joby. “Now, S8ine Wi’'ams, ef you so much as voke yo’ nose ober dat top-ricer till I git back f'um ole Mammy Peterses, I'll hone yo' good. Yo’ jess min’ do tater ratch, an’ ef dat brack imp of laziness, Gin Peters, comes aroun’ yere, don’'t yo’ take no notice ob him. Now, min’, ef you don’t want ter feel de switch!” “But, mammy, can’'t 1 go ter see de Fo'th ob July an’ d» pinwheels?’ queried little Sine, anxiously, twirling a very tat- tered straw hat and digging his bare, black toes into the dirt. *‘Fo’th ob July !"” snorted mammy. “Fo’ de lan’ sakes! Wot’s hatched dat ideah under yo' woolly pate, Sine Wi'ams? Iv's | Gin Peters, I'!l be boun’. Fo'th ob July Who tole you’bout pinwbeels? Ef you Jebe dese primysez dis day ’thout axin’ me, y0'll see pinwheels fo' a momi!”’ And Mammy Williams went off, shak- ing ber head at Sinai, or Sine, as he was called for short—over the long fence, in- closing a garden patch planted to “mil- lions” and ‘“‘taters.” “Don’t see why mammy’s so ’gin’ me gwine 1o a Fo’th of July. Never seed one in my bo'n days, nor & pinwheel nudder. some of you are for” | | I’spicion dey’s all shiny an’ turn sumfin’ | like & grin’stun, wid a crank, an’ sparks |an’ fire somehow flyin’ off’n’um. Dey | must’ be de mos gloriousest t'ings! KII | could on'y jess go to a F’oth ob July now! I'm mos’ min’ ter sneak ‘out er dis ole gar- | den. Et's jess work fum sunup ter sun- | down. Mammy, she t'inks I kin—" | “Hiyi, Sme! Wot you rootin’ round’ |in de dirt dar fo'? Atter wums fo' fish | bait?” | And Genero Peters’ woolly head ap- | peared above the ‘‘top-rider” of the log { fence, his wide mouth grinning, and his | biack eyes shining and snapping with | pure mischief beneath his ragged hat- | brim. { “Kem, now! Kem out er dat ole garden, | Sine, an’ le’s haba stompin’ ole celebra- | | i 1 not ter poke my nose ober de top-rider | once,” replied little Sine, with longing | 1ooks toward the tields. ‘Nebber yo' min’ mammy. She's tuk {fo' dis day, shore. Granny’s bad. Got | rumyticks in ebery jimt. Golly! I | shouldn’ wonder ef granny diedl Ye yaller dawg howled las’ night!’ “Will de howlin’ make yo' granny die?’ asked little Sine, with wide-eyed astonish- | ment. | “Wot a innercent chile you is, Sine! No, de yaller dawg don’ make it, but it’s | a shore sign somebody’s got ter die in de | fambly, an’ granny says she’s plum wore | out. Itink de howls war fo’ her. Draps dat hoe, now, an’ kem out yere in dis | blackjack., I's got sumfin’ters’priseyou. | Be libely, now! Can’t be foolin’ roun’ a | hull Fo’th ob July o’ a bit ob a bob-shirer like you is.” “Ef mammy ketches me off de primysez, | she’ll make me see pinwheels fo’ a momf. She say so,”” faltered Sine, his foot on the bottom log of the fence. “‘Hi-hi-ye!” laughed Genero. ‘*You'd git fireworks, you would. I knows Mam- my Wi'ams. But you needn’t go ober de top-rider. Jess skip froo de gate. Dat won’t be dis’beyin’ yo’ mammy. She only | say don’ go ober de top-rider.” | Little Sine was scarcely convinced, yet his longings accorded so entirely with Genero’s logic that he was easily per-| snaded to “skip froo de gate,” and ina shert time the two little darkies were in i the edge of the “‘blackjack,” at the back of Mammy Williams' shanty. “Wot you tink ob dis, eh, Sine?” said Genero, producing something from out his | baggy shirt. Wot is it?”” queried Sine. “Why, don’t you see?” It’sa gun!” re- | Sine’s big eyes rolled in astonishment. | “Whar did it kem fum?” | “Made it!” exclaimed Genero, trium- phantly. “Its jess aseasy! White Sam | tole me how. You sze, you takes a wood- | en spin’le, jess as long as you want yo' gun; den you twines a string roun’ it | wid a piece ob paper, den cerange anoder | piece ob paper 2 little ways out f'um de oder piece ob paper, an’ run de hole full | | ob lead. Pull out do spin’le, an’ dar you bab a gun bar'l. Den one end is plug. ed | up, an’ it has ter be put inter dis wooden bar’l ter make it look bumptious like, wid a breeches pin—dat’s wot Sam called it. Dis little hole is whar de match teches de ; powder. Hil I'll make you one some | day—ef you won’t teil yo’ mammy.” | Sine promised. The not very lucid explanation of the | manufacture of the wonderful gun only | added awe and admiration for Generc in | the mind of little Sine, and he was ready | 10 follow his mischievous companion and | tha: gun at all hazaras. In fact Mammy Williams was forgotten. | The old gun hanging over the door, with which his brother, Andrew Jackson, hunted 'possums, had always been an ob- | ject of great admiration. To have one ev:n like Genero's seemed | to be almost too great good luck. | In some way Genero had obtained a small quantity of powder, but for bullets dried peas were substituted. For some time the ‘blackjacks” re- | sounded to the pops of the gun and the nilarious shouts of the delighted boys. Nothing escaped their sharp eyes, and at last, seeing Mammy Williams' old brood hen scratching around in the yard, “ Wot’s de matter in yere?’’ cried Mammy Wiiliams, waddling into the kitchen, | Biady, a good deal dazed, yet clucking to with her big family of chickens, Genero proposed trying his hand on her. Sine protested, but feebly. “Law, 1t will on’y skeer hera little; mebbe pick out a fedder or two. Hil! Won’t it be fun ter see her flop?”’ “Now, you min’, Gin Peters, an’ don’ put in but a pinch ob powder. Dem peas is powerful hard.” Almost at the outset Sine had received acharge of peas, through Genero's heed- lessness—but luckily from some distance— and‘he had good reason to know. *Ob coa’se! You don't s'pose I want ter kill the brood hen?” But Genero turned in more powder than he bad promised, and taking careful aim at the clucking fowl, bia Sine to apply the mateh. F-i-s-s-sh—bang! Then a terrible squall and a flying glimpse of feathers, outspread wings and feet turning over and over toward the henhouse—and the victim lay still. One chicken dropped, while the others hid themselves in the tall weeds. For a moment Sine stood aghast at the 1897. MOTTe ofF " C.R.C “ACT WELL THY PART; THERE ALLTHE HONOR LIES. tense heat, and the little kitchen was like an oven. But Genero and Sine were too eager and busy to mind that. Again and again the mold was filled. At length it got too hot to hold, and at Genero’s bidding Sine plunged it into a bucket of water. Another spoonful of pewter was ready. Sine bent over and held the dripping mold. In went the last of mammy's cover, A sharp, spluttering report, a splash, and the molten pewter flew into the air. The mold was dashed to the floor and clapping his hands to his face Sine began stamping blindly about the kitchen, over- turning stools and buckets ana shrieking: “I'm killed—ob, Gin, I'm killea! Run 1o’ mammy! 1I's shot!” “Wot's de matter in yere?’ cried Mammy Williams, waddling into the kitchen. “Oh, mammy, mammy! I's shot wid de bullet mol’,”” wailed Sine. “I’sgwine ter die, shore. De pewter kibber it’s done meited, an’ de ole brood hen’s turned up- side down wid de peas Gin—" “Gin Peters! I knowed it! Iknowed dat miser’ble rapscallion war ter de bot- tom ob dis!'’ shouted mammy, interrupt- ing Sine’s venitent confession, which he decmed his last,. “Ef de gallus don’ ketch | dat bird Mammy Wi'ams am no proffick. Oh, ef Ton’y once git han’s onter de vil- pletely peeled, his cheeks burned and cne eyelid blisterea and swollen he was an ob- ject of commiseration. But his injuries were not so serious as Mammy Williams predicted, for within a month Sine had grown a new skin to his nose, and, except that it looked a little tender and off-color, it was as good as the old one. However, Sine has learned two things— that it is safer to keep within the top rider, when bidden to, and never to run hot pewter or lead in a wet mold.—Golden Days. ROSEVILLE. Dear Editress: Ishall be 10 years old the 3d of December. The little children’s letters are very nice. I read Childhood’s Realm every Sunday. 1 have two rabbits. One is white and the other is black and white. Iam going to San Francisco or to the moun- tains this summer. Donot throw my letter in the wastebasket. From your little writer, SYLVIA THEILE. CALISTOGA. Dear Editress: 1was very much pleased to see my first letter in print and thought I would write again. Our school closed the 3d of June, my sister was promoted to the third grade andIwas promoted to the sixth—both honorary. I think the piece of poetry that Eva Navone wrote was very nice. We live in a canyon two and & half miles north of Calistoga. We have a lovely view of the town from our place, and can see the trains come and go. Our place is mostly vine- yard and fruit trees. To-morrow is my birthday. years oid. We went to our Sunday-school pienic. It was held at Tucker’s Grove, four miles south of Calistoga. It is a most lovely place. We enjoyed ourselves very much. Your little friend, EDITH A. MARTIN. * MENLO PARK. Dear Editress: This is my first letter to THE CALL. 1 wrote a letter to the Examiner and they did not publish it. My papa has taken I shall be 12 JUVENILE CHAPTERS OF INDEPENDENCE DAY. On the Mock Battlefield. In the Park. calamitous result, then darted toward the hen, crying: **Ob, Gin, vou’s killed her! You’s killed de brood hen! Wot will mammy say? Now dis chile’ll kotch a peelin’, shore : 'nough!” And Sine sat on the ground with the | ben on his knee, and rocked back and forth, and howled piteously. “Stop dat yowiin’, Sine Wi’ams!"’ com- manded Genero. “Yo' 'll raise de hull place. Deole hen am on’y foolin’. See? She’s open one eye. Bho, dar, you con- sateful ole 'possum!” And, sure enough, away staggered recall her scattered brood, her wings dragging, tail eons and her feathers all rumpled and turned 1oward her comb. Indead, her little family approached her with distrust, despite the familiar call, failing to recognize in this forlorn and | rumpled fowl their own sleek and impor- tant mother of a few moments before. “Yo’ mammy’ll tink a coon’s been after 'er,” consoled Genero. He had deftly tossed the dead chicken into a hole. “Yo’ b'liebe dat, Gin?” asked Sine, anx- iously. “Sartain!” said Genero, confidently. *Wot ef she axes, ‘Sine, wot’s de matter wid de brood hen?'” ‘‘Sine, you is foolish! Why, dat sheam gwine ter shed her fedders, ob coa'se.” “I’s gittin’ pow’ful hungry,” remarked Genero after a iong pause, in which Sine had been seriously considering his chances of a*“koning’,” and Genero plotting new mischief. ‘“Hain’ yo’ mammy got a bit ob cawn pone she don’t want no mo’?"’ Bine’s spirit of hospitality at once re- sponded to his companion’s appeal, and bringing out ‘“‘pone” and bacon from mammy’s cupboard the two boys pro- ceeded to make a meal. “Ef we on’y had some real bullets now,” said Genero, wiping off the crumbs from his mouth with his sieeve, “like 'nough we could kill a 'possum. Yo’ mammy’d jump fo’ joy when she seed a fat 'possum lyin’ on de table, I &' picion.” This immediately kindled Sine's zeal afresh. * To kill a fat ’possum for mammy wouid in part conciliate the wrath which he feared would overtake him. Mammy was partial to 'possum. “I reckon, ef dey won’t kill an ole brood hen, dey’il be no ’count wid de 'possum. But, Sine, I seed Ander Jack- son’s bullet mol’ up on de beam side ob his gun. I kin run bullets—I kin. White Sam, he show me. Ef we on’y had sum- fin’ dat would melt easy.” “Dar’s mammy’s pewter teapot,” said reckless little Sine. ‘*‘She melted de kib- ber off herself, one day, when old Mirandy Smiff kem ober yere, an’ dey got ter argy- in ’bout’ligion. Don’t b'liebe de kibber 'mounts ter much to de teapot, anyway.” And he produced tte cover, that Mammy Williams had carefully hid away, as she “reckoned” she could get it soldered on for a “fippeny bit.”” | A fire was soon roaring, and with a big iron spoon, the cover and bullet mold, the boys began operations. Shrewd Ge- nero worked rapidly. He was feartul that Mammy Williams might appear on the scene, and he was desirous of adding as much to his stock of ammunition as pos- sible. Without, the sun was pouring down in- 1 At the Seashore. yun he'll t'ink an’arthquake am struck him1!” RBut Genero, having hidden behind the door on the instant of hearing mammy’s voice, had prudently taken himself off at the first oportuaity. “Yo’ pore sinner!” said mammy, ten- derly peeling the hardened pewter, to which the blistered skin adhered, off Sine’s nose. Yo’ pors sinner! Yo’ neb- ber was noways harmsome; but now—oh, Lordy—yo’ is a sight. Dat nose1s sp'ilt fo' sart’in!” Poor Sine, indeed! With his nose com- Act of Gongress. “ Resolved, That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the Union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.” The number of stripes was changed once to filteen, and remained so for twenty-three years, when it was changed back to the origi- nal number—thirteen—by an act oi Congress in 1818. No act has since been passed altering this feature, and the flag is as originally adopted, with this exception: one star has Q’ffi" added on the admission of every new ate. THE CALL for the last twenty-five years and I love to read it; so do my paps and mamma. 1go to school and was promoted to the fourth grade. My playmate, Fanny Casey, and my brother Jimmie are in the eighth grade. Yours lovingly, BESSIE FITZGERALD, 8 years old. SAN FRANCISCO. Dear Editress: 1 hope you will print my letter this time, because my mamma and papa have taken THE CALL since 1876. I have a canary bird and & linnet. Mamma put thelinnet into the cage with the canary, but they commenced to fight, so we had to part them again. My canary is very cute. When mamma speaks to her she always answers back very sweetly. I go to the Laguna Honda School, and my teachey, Miss Casey, promoted me to the sixth grade.” Yours truly, ‘WILLIE GILLIGAN, EAN FRANCISCO. Dear Editress: I wait for THE CALL every Sunday morning, for I love the little girls’ and boys’ page. Ishall be 7 on the 16h of July and am going to be in the second grade at school next term. Ishall try and send you a little story. CARRIE HIGGINS, EUNOLs Cal. Dear Editress: It has been a long time since I nave been able to write to you, as T have been veryill. I am now in the country trying to get well aud strong again. I haven’t attended school since April, butl was promoted into the ninth grade. I am on a very large fruit ranch, and am huving a lovely time, as I have a host of cousins up here. The house is a mile from any other, and I shouid think that the folks wouid get lone- some so far away from neighbors. My cousin,Alice Chamberlain,is going to write you, too, and we should be very much pleased if you would please publish our letters. The hay-balers are here now, and it is very interesting to watch them. I wish to belong to ihe C. R. C. very much, and hope that I may. Good-by. Yours truly, JENNIE K. HILLs, GLEN ELLEN. Dear Editress: This is the first letter I have ever written (0 you., I have written a story for the children’s page which I hope you will accept. Itis my first atterapt at story-writing and nobody helped me with it. Ialso send a few puzzles. Please excuse my writing with a leadpencil, as we live in an out-of-the-way place in the country and have no fnk I should like to become a member of the C.R.C. Your truefriend, ETHEL WILLIAMS, Amy at the Seashore. BY MINNIE A. VELLADAO (C. R. C.). Playing on the seashore, On! butitis fun, Where the litfle laughing waves Chase me as I run. Catch my feet, kiss my feet, Murmur soft and low, “Dear little maiden, How can we let you go?” Playing on the seashore, ’Mid the mosses brown; Climbing, climbiag up the rocks, Slipping, slipping down: Slivping here, skipping there, Digging in the sand, Building now a cortage fair, Now a castle grand. Playing on the seashore, How the hours fi+! Bwifter than the swiftest bird, Flitting, flitting by. Come again, go again, Happy, happy day. Morning, noon, or eventide, It's always time to play, MISS MADALENA LAGOMARISINO, C. R. C. NEW PBZZLES. I Conundrum. Why s a troublesome chicken like a horse ? 0. ZELLA GossETa (C. R. C.). IL An adage. HATTIE M. WILLIAMS 8. (C. R. C.). III. Word squares. 2 1. A flower. 2. A thought. 3. An arch Lo0k. 4. Astory. Ep. IV. (@) 1. A girl’s name. 2. Actof lending. 3. To continue. 4. Small insects. o. M. A. VeLLADOES (C. R. C.). (b) 1. An ensign or colors. 2. Affection. 3. A city in New York. 4. A fine young fellow. V. Addition. A vehicle4-*'to decay”—a vegetable. “To languish” +a fruit—a tropical fruit. Destitute of light+a piece of thin, broad timber—something of great use in schools. 3 ETaEL WILLIAMS (C. R. C.). VI. Discoveries. 1. Find a period of time in" ‘desirous.”” 2. Find an organ of the head in an organ of the chest. 8. Find “not 01d” in “‘muscul 4. Find a boy’s nickname in “raised.” 5. Find a card in “put.”” 0. IDA WIGHTMAN (C. R, C.). DIAMONDS, VIL 1—A letter in harp. 2—A beverage. 3—A fruit. 4—A deed. 5—A letter in harp. 0. MADELENA LaGoMaRrsiNo (C. R. C.). (b) 1—A letter in beautiful. 2—The cry of a sheep. 3—A mark of distinction. 4—Any period of time. 5—A letter in beautiful. Ep. VIII. What State is high in the middle and round at each end? En. . AvLICE HORN (C. R. C.). Patriotic days of July. X. (a) What took place July 4, 17767 (b) What great event occurred in France in 1789 ? On what date? (¢) Who was Simon Bolivar? Where was he born? Answers for June 27. 1. Milwaukee—(Mill—walk—key). 1L (Enigma on vacation.) 1L W REN R AGE E G 68 NEST IV. Helens. Portland. Detroit. V. Education. VI. (a) Soa king and smoking. (5) The footman. VIL Jerusalem—city. Ural—mountains. Niger—river. Erie—lake. June—month. VIIL Diamond puz. A >ak Has @k CEEd IX. (a) (Error.) (b) Shut—but, (c) Draw—raw. X. Tree puzzle. 1—Beech. 2—Palm. 3—Spruce, 4—Fir. 5—Pine. 6—Pear. 7—Avple. 8—Plum. 9—Olive. 10—Hickory. 11—Rosewood. 12—Aspen, 13—Bay. 14—Gum. 15—Fig. 16—Willow. Answers to Puzzles Received. Answers to puzzles of June 27 have been re- ceived from the followingmembers of C. R. C.: Elsa Lange.. 4/Alice Bell... 10 M. Eva Navone 6| Beckie Hefno........ 2 Juliette Driscol! 1|Retha Waldau. &7 Emily Housto 9/Edgar Randali...... 9 Ethel McClure 9| From non-members for June 27: Alvina Ketz, 1{Birdie Smith... 1 James Reid. . 1| Leonard Clark.. 1 Elizabeth Lankiree. 1|Frank Hall. i5E Arthur Esterberg... 1|W. R. EllL bt Ethel Williams 4 Harry Van Saut..... 1 Henlen Bowie. 1|Bessio A. Sullivan.. 2 Ray B. Stedman..... 1/ For June 20 (delayed): Nellie Kiernan...... 2/Jennie HIlls......... 7 Alice Chamberiain.. 7| Letters Received. Besides letters published, pleasant come munications have been received from the fole lowing members of C. R. C.: Ethel Ferguson, Minnie A. Velladoes, Elsa Lange. Fred Anthes, M. k.va Navone, Alice Bell, Bec le Heino, Juliette Driscoll, Emily_Houston, Marie J. Parish. ¥thel McClure, > And from non-members: Wilite McCaughen, Alvina Getz, Charles 1. Schaner, B. Fitzzeraid, Kiizabeth Lanktree, Maude Wilson, Myrie Fishback, Arthur Esterberg, Frank Hall, Nettie A. Frame, krnestine ~erveau, Viola Furth, * Agnes Demps>y, Mabel s:oddard, Floyd Smith, George M. W alker, Bessis A. Sullivan, Gu.tave Frost, Grace Stoddard, Kay B. Stedman. Answers to Gorrespondents. Ethel Ferguson—Write often eaough to show other members that you are interested in the success of the page. Try the puzzles. Do not expect all your contributions to be printed. Ernestine Serveau—Try again. The puzzle you contributed has aiready appeared in Childhood’s Realm. Members—Send your photographs as soon as possible for C. R. C.gailery. M. Eva Navone—Anything from your pen is N. extends her thanks to Max S. for his pretty little poem. Exchanges Received. Weeklies: 1—Harper’s Round Table, 2—Youth’s Companion. 3—Golden Days. Monthlies: 1—8t. Nicholas. 2—Donahoe’s Magazine, with Juvenile De- partment. = AMY AT THE SEASHORE.