The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 25, 1897, Page 24

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JULY 25, 1897. “ACT WELL_THY PART; 5 THERE ALL THE HONOR LIES Only one week more of vacation in the | City, while in the country towns and vil- lages many of the schools have already opened. The little ones of Childhood’s | Realm are back from their vacation, with rosv cheeks, bright eyes and buoyant | spirits, ready not only for the work of the | school year, but for the pleasures of| Childhood’s Realm. Such a batch of let- ters this week from the boys and girls of | California your editress has never received before, and all of them brimming over with enthusiasm for the work and play of Childhood’s Realm. What an increase, too, in the demand for badges, and of good resolves on the part of those who are not now members of C. R. C. to become so as soon as possible by writing something worthy of publication upon the chiidren’s pege. The idea of scrapbooks has evi- dently caught on, as well as the plan of printing weekly the pictures of members of C. R. C. Let every member of the club secure a badge &s soon as possible. The names of the puzzle-solvers and letter- writers of the past week will appear next Sunday. Tessy ) IDveam. FOR TINY FOLKS. “Come, Teddy, it 1s time to go to bed,” exclaimed Mrs. Wayman, as she piciied up the lamp and started toward the door. Teddy wished tosay, **On, mamma, please let me finish this story,” but he thought of the little boy of who:a he had been read- ing—a young lad who had been ve hizhly rewarded and honored for h prompt obedience to his mother’s wishes; <0 Teddy closed the interesting book and followed his mamma to hisroom. He was soon safely tucked in his little white bed | and well on the way to dreamland. Sud- | denly he found himself sitting on a grassy kno!l, under a hpge butternut tree, while all about him lay the fine nuts. As he| reached out to take one he heard a souna ike the whirring of wings, and upon look- around saw standing by the most | ttie Jady he bad ever beheld. She was very tiny, just about a foot high. She nad biue, blue eves, and hair of gold. | Her graceful little figure was clad in a | dress of ga , hung with dewdrops that | »arkled like diamonds in the sun. On her wee feet were dainty slippers, while on her pretty shoulders were snowy olno!” she exclatimed. *You must | beautifully in the bright sunhight. A not eat those nuts. If you do, you’ll turn into a fairy, sure.”’ “Umph. That's just exactly what I should like,” criea Teddy, fascinated by the dazzling little beauty. “Well,” she replied, with oh, such an entrancing smile, “‘perhaps you’d better eat a piece of my cake; then youll be a fairy on trial, and if you don’t like being one you may resume you: natural size by simply wishing to do so."” She then took from her pocket a very small bit of cake and handed it to the waiting boy. Strange to say, the moment he touched it the piece of delicate cake grew larger, until it looked justlike one of his mamma’'s generous slices. As heslowly ate it he becalne smaller until he was only a very little taller and stouter than the fairy at his side. “Now,” said she, “my name is Dew- drops. Would vou like to visit the Queen aim? She is my sister ana gives te to-day.” s like his beautiful companion. She gently touched him with her wand and immediately from his shoulders sprang wings like her own; then taking his hand and giving a little spring they were away, sailing lightly through the ir balmy air. “Ab, there is the castle—see?” cried Dewdrops. Teddy looked, and there, e enough, in a little glade below them, was a castle about tbree feet high. It was white as snow and looked as if it had led ound it were walls, also of white, and Teddy criea out with rapture as he saw great crowds of fairies assembled at the large gate, which was completely covered with fragrant white rose leaves. fair companion and he alighted and joined the rest. “They were waiting,” she explained, “for a bell to ring; that would let them £now when the Queen was ready to re- ceive them.” At last 1t sounded and the gate swung been frosted, for it shone and sp: gently wide open, mitting them to a lovely | garden fragrant with blossoms and dotted with sparkling fountains. Of course things were tiny, but as our boy was a fairy for the time beinz they appeered to him to be on a very grand scale and of vast proportions. Princess Dewdrops in- troduced Teday as “Sir Ted,” and as he was & very handsome lad many a fairy princess fell madiy in loye with him at ," answered Teddy, delighted | at the thought of seeing more lovely be- | Vi r, first sight. They played jolly games until the little bell tinkled out again, then the beautiful Queen announced the dance. The fairy gallantscnose thelr fair com- panions and merrily waltzed away. Many | noble lords and princes sued for the plea- sure of dancing with Dewdrops, but she refused them all and took Teddy’s arm. He never had danced in his whole life, but, of course, everything is easy to do in fairy- land, and he glided away as gracefully as if he had always aanced. Then supper was announced. Teddy was given the place of honor at the Queen’s right, opposite to the sweet sprite who by this time had completely bewitched him. The table fairly groaned, there were so many good things upon it; the kind of things fairies best like, yon know—nectar from the rose, candied vio- lets, and all the rest. Teddy was having a perfect feast, when some one said: “’Tis time to get up; I'm afraid you'll | be late for school, my pracious boy 1” He quickly rubbed his eyes, and there was his mamma bending over him. “Why, mamma,” he exclaimed, “I thought I was in fairyland, and here 1 am at home!”’ Don’t you think, my little readers, that maybe that sweet dream was sent to Teddy because he had obeyed his mother il e Phw | Ly 111, ‘Write a story about the little folks represented in these two piclures. The best stories will appear in *‘Childhood’s Bealm.” s0 promptly the night before? Good boys always have pleasant dreams, you know. . R. Maup MarLory (C. R. C.). For Childhood’s Realm. Po('j'o—lkfg Avyow Iz A venerable Indian arrow-maker ex- plained how his arrows were poisoned in the following words: “'First we take a bloated yellow rattle- snake in August, when he is most poisonous, and tie him with a forked stick to a stake; then we tease him until be is in a great rage. This is done by passing a switch over his body from his head to his tail. When he thrashes the | ground with his tail and his eyes glow bright and sparkle like diamonds, we kill a deer, antelope or some other small animal, and, tearing out the liver, throw it {o the snake while itis warm and the blood still coursing through of any affection they might have felt for her. Her benefactors, especially Mr. Dodge, did not believe in “making a fuss over anybody,’” and she stood constantly in awe of the old man, whom the neigh- bors spoke of as “‘gruff, but just.” One day while dusting her guardian’s study she saw a paper lying on the floor. She stooped to pick it up to throw it into the _Wastebasket, but looked at it first to see if it were of any value. She saw upon it the following figures, written appa- rently in great haste: $2865 $2865 .06 171.90 $171.90 $2696.90 Clara was naturally very fond of mathe- matics, and she quickly saw that a mis- take had been made in the account before her. 8he found the interest again, saying to herself, ““That’s all right,” but when she added the principal to the interest'she ex- claimed, ‘*And that’s all wrong.” “Could Mr. Dodge have made a mis- take?” she thought. Over and over again she obtained the same result, becoming ereatly agitated. “The correct answer is $3036 90, instead of $2696 90, and that is over $300 difference,’” she murmured. She then remembered that an evil- looking man had been in the study with Mr. Dodge about half an hour before, and R vth?a.w e HOW INDIANS POISON THEIR ARROWS. [From Bedford Annual.] it. The reptile will strike it and again, and pretty soon it will begin to turn black. When he tires, the snake is teased again, and he is induced to sink his fangs into the soft flesh until all the poison has been ex- tracted from him and the liver is reeking with it. He is then killed and the liver lifted with a sharp pole, for so danczerous is it no one dares touch it. The liveris let lie for abont an hour, when 1t will be almost jet black and emita sour smell Arrows are then brought and their iron heads pushed into the liver up to the shaft. They are left sticking there for about one hour and a half, when they are withdrawn and dried in the sun. A thin, glistening yellow scum adheres to the ar- row, and if it but so much as touches raw flesh it is certain to poison it to death.”” I asked if Indians still used poisoned ar- rows. ‘“No,” he replied; “no man, In- dian or white man, for years past has been shot with these arrows, and they are no longer made.” again R To the Members of G. R. G. There’s a beautiful realm in this world of ours Whose years are builded of sunny hours— Whosé waters unruffied flow deep and cirar, ‘With never & marsh, nor far, nor near; Whose flowers talk volu: tothosewr ‘well In that beautiful pla sweet Childhood’s Realm. There all the people are free from care; There is hardiy one Jittle unanswered prayer, For the dear, kind Father of every child Rules over that country with laws so mild That every subject from trouble is free In that beautiful land where we bide “a wee.” Al of its people are rosy and fair; I know they are happy, for I was there A few ShoTt Summers or 5o ago; But the years rolled on, and then such woe! In prayer my hands I did uplift, But out in the world I was cast adrift. What pity that we must leave that place To wander forth and the wide world face, With all 1ts foily, sin and care— With all the suffering we have to bear. Why is it we cannot always dwell In the beautiful land of Childhood’s Realm? NITA. A Mattey of ]-‘)omld : Clara Cntler was a poor orphan girl. One day Mr. Dodge, a wealthy man, called at the asylum and took her to his home to live with himself and wife. They zave her a good home, dressing her neatly and sending her to school. After and betore school hours she was employed in dust- ing, “setting things to rights,” and also bad to run on errands. Mr. and Mrs. Dodge had no children of their own, and that may have been the reason they had taken aiancy to Clara; or, perhaps, her sweet ways and her repu- tation for truthiulness and honesty had won for her a place in their hearts, But timid, bashful Clara did not know when he left the house acted as if he ware greatly excited; also that she had heard the sound of high-pitched angry voices during his visit. ‘“What could it mean? It’s about money that the man paid Mr. Dodge, I do believe,” said Clara. ‘“‘He was speaking this morning of money he hoped to receive to-day. Oh dear, Mr. Dodge must have figured it up very quickly and made this mistake! Now, I see, he has added part and subtracted part] Whata very strange thing to do! What shall I do,” she continued. “If Mr. Dodge were not so stern I should not hesitate a moment.” The girl nad little confidence in herself, and was trying hard to decide what was best to be done, when Mrs. Dodge called to her that she wished her to go on an errand. On her way home she saw Mr. Dodge’s visitor of the morning going into the vil- lage hotel. The sight of him recalled the mistake in the account. “He doesn’t look a bit honest,”” she thought. “I certainly must tell Mr. Dodge that he is being cheated before that man has a chance to get away.” By the time she had reached the house she had determined to tell Mrs. Dodge so she might inform her husband, but’ the lady said she was too busy when Clara asked to speak with her a few moments, and sent the little girl out to cut flowers for the parior vases. Just as Clara was placing some beautiful pink roses in her basket, she happened to glance up and there saw Mr. Dodge walking peacefully down the path toward her. “Now or never,” she thought, and so, trembling in every Iimb, she timidly asked: ‘“Oh. Mr. Dodge, may I speak with you a minute?”’ “Well, well,” he answered gruffly, “‘out with it! What is it?” “I—I think—think, oh, sir, you've made a mistake!” “Tut, tut! Nonsense! Nonsense, child! There is no mistake!"” “But, Mr. Dodge,” cried the little girl, excitedly, “come, quick, with me to the study and I'll show you what I mean.”’ He looked puzzled at her eageérness as she darted away, but he slowiy followed her in, wondering much what it was all about. ' Clara met him at the door with the paper in her hand. “See, sir, here’s the mistake: your amount is wrong.” Mr. Dodge carefully adjusted his spec- tacles, glanced at the paper a moment and then gave a low whistle, “You are right, my child; I have made & mistake,” 8o saying he grabbed his hat and rushed out, still holaing the paper in his hand. Clara followed him, crying: “Please, 8ir, 1 saw the man who was here this morning enter the ‘Bravo Hotel’ about twenty minutes ago.” ‘‘Are you sure?’’ came from Mr. Dodge. “Yes, sir, I am,” was her decisive answer. “Ha, ha!” laughed Mr. Dodge that night. He had found the dishonest man and obtained the money which was right- fully his, but not without considerable trouble. “My old trick, you see,’’ said he to his wife; “‘adding balf and subtracting half, just as I used to do at school.” Turning to Clara he continued: *‘Glad it turned out so well, thanks to your brightness, my girl. To-morrow I'm going to place that $300 in the local bank in your name as a reward. How'll you like that, eh ?" Clara could only say, 1 didn’t think of any was right to tell you—that’s all. M. Eva Navoxe (C. R. C.). Written for Chitdhood’s Realm. Lasydivs, Leadydiva. A tiny ladybird (Coccinella) alights upon the curtain and suus herself on the white lawn. How many charmingrhymes and pretty pet names have gathered about this favorite of the beetle family! Little Bird of the Sun, Little Lady of the Sun, Mary’s Chafer, St. Michael’s Chicken, the Little Bird of Mary, St. Lucia’s Chicken, St. Nicholas’ Little Dove, Lady’s Calf, Our Lady Fowl, Cush Cow Lady (this is Yorkshire), Bishop Barnaby, the Little Horse of God. These and many more, in all tongues. Surely poetry still lingers in the common speech that can invent so many caressing terms for this little fellow wiih his spotted coat of ye!- low, red and black. Il luck follows him who destroys the children’s friend. “Kill one and you’ll break your leg before the snow falls,” says the proverb. We all know the chant of the English children: Ladybird, ladybird, iy away home, Your house is afire, your children’s at home, Allbut one that lies under a stone, Fly thee home, ladybird, ere it be gone. The Scotch voices take up the rhyme to other words: Lady, Lady Landers, Lady, Lady Landers, Tuke up your coats about your head And fly away to Flanders. In Germany the song runs thus: Flieg nach Osten, Flieg nach Westen, Flieg dahin wo mein Liebster wohnt, And Yankee children say: Fly o the East And fly to the West, And fly 1 theone that 1love best. B “There was a strange man here to see you to-day, papa,” said little Ethel, who met her father in the hall as he came home on Wednesday night. *“Did he have a bijl?”’ “No, papa. He had just a plain nese.”’ A little girl, busy in making a pair of worsted slippers, said to a companion near her: *You are lucky, you are. Your papa has only got one leg.”” “Oh, Mr. Dodge! ward. I knew it An English peer Shakespeare.—Golden without & peer— Farnie Crry, Or. Dear Editress: 1 have never seen any let- ters irom Oregon on the Children’s Page oi THE UALL, so I think I'll write to yeu. Iam alitile girl 10 years old, and am in the fourth grade at school. We are hav- ing vacation now after a nine months’ term. Iam in Miss Hopkins’ room, and Ilike her very much. She has been teach- ing here for five years. We have a hand- some large schoolhouse, and over it waves our Nation’s beautiful flag. Oh, Ilove the “Red, White and Bluel” I never get tired of hearing my grandpa, who is an old soldier, tell of his experiences in the war. Iam visiting him now at his home, about a mile above Falls City, and like it here immensely. Grandpa nas a great deal of fruit, and I am going to help him make currant jelly this week. My little sister is writing to you too, and I hope one of our letiers will be published. I remain your little reader, GRACE STODDARD. Lemoore, Cal. Dear Editress: This is the second time I have written to you. I hsve just returned from a visit to the mountains, where I had a splendid time. I met with quite a severe accident one day. My cousins and Iwent over in the hills after some cattle, Our way led along the Stanislaus River. One crossing-place was very bad indeed, for the trail led up over a mountain side, which was very steep; it seemed to me to | be straightup and down from the river to the mountair top. The path was cut out of the bedrock and the spray from the river dashed over it and made it very slippery. We had to get off our horses ana lead them across. We got along all right as we were going, but coming back we had some trouble. After dismounting I took hold of my mare’s bridle and let her take the trail while I walked along a little bench above her, but that didn't please her and she climbed up and fol- lowed me. Pretty soon the bench got so narrow that she slipped and fell, dragging me to the trail below, bumping my head and cracking my shins on the hard rocks. It hurt a good deal. and I carry the scars to this day. No more at present, so adios amigo. Your friend, VEssie UNDERWOOD. WINTERS, Cal., July 12, 1897. Dear Editress: There appear in THE SUNDAY CALL so mavy letters from girls ana boys all over the State, 50 I thought I would write one also, It is very hot here now. Every day it is above 100 degrees in the shade. We have a narvester. I have three brothers who work on it. I like to ride on 1t myself. We have two ranches and they are harvesting on the other ranch now. My sister cooks for the men and I have to stay at home and help my mother. Qur school closed the 3d of June, but I did not go to the close of the term, for I had the measles. We are going to have a young lady teacher this term who is our neighbor, She graduated from the State Normal School last spring. School begins again in Septem- ber. Hoping to see my letter in printIremain your constant reader. ELMINE F. SCHMEISER. IGERNA, Cal., July 14, 1897. Mrs. Mary W. Richards—DEAR EDITRESS: I re- ceived the badge you sent me last Thursday, and Iam delighted with it. I am going to have my picture taken soon; then I shall send youone. I am in the highest class in our school. There isonly one other family here that takes THE CALL. I wonder why A. Craw- ford does not write any more. Iliked the arti- cle about the little Grecian boys very much. Iwenton apicnic on the Fourth. There were eighteen of us. We went fishing, gathered flowers and swung in the hammocks. We re- turned to our homes at 6 o’clock, and after THE G. R. G. GALLERY. MISS JULIETTE DRISCOLL. supper we had firecrackers, skyrockets and bombs. Your little friend, Mamie KELLOGG (C. R. C.). GIANT, Cal. Dear Editress: 1have not written to vou for along time. I have a friend visiting me, Annie Parker, from San Francisco. The other day we went cown to the beach, went in wad- ing and had a fine time. Yesterday we went in swimming. 1 have lately received a. horse and phaeton. My horse’s name is Kitty. She is very gentle, and I go to church every Sun- day to San Pablo. We are going to have a new teacher this term. When she comes I'll tell you her name. I wish I could belong to the C. R. C. The next time. I write I shall write a story. School opens next Monday. Yours truly, MARGUERITE HOWARD. NEW PBZZLES. L The name of a celebratea English play- Wright is represenetd by this picture. 0.—FRANCES LAPLACE (C. R. C.). Diamonds. 1—A letter in fancy. 2—A domestic animal. 3—A fabled spirit. 4—To attempt. 5—A letter in fancy. 0.—M. LAGOMARSINO (C. R. C.). 1—A letter in candy. 2—A cart. 3—Worries or troubles (noun). 4—Abody of traveling traders. 5—To carouse. 6—A girl’s nickname. 7—A letter in candy. Hidden names of girls, 1—No rain to-morrow. 2—Letme take the dog. 3—1I dare say it will wash. 4—1Is this the best her father keeps? 5—The disagreeable oder and smoke en- tered the room. 6—Where did you get that tie? V. Word squares. 1—An amphibious animal. 2—To wander. 3—A cavity used in baking, 4—A fine young fellow. 0.—LoTTIE DENMIRE (C. R. C.). VL 1—To move toward. 2—A stone of changeable colors. 3—A coat of steel. 4—A girl’s name. 0.—M. A. VELLADOES (C. R. C.). 1—A valley. 2—A boy’s name. 3—Soil. 4—Stop. IL L. Ep. VIL VIIL 1am composed of sixteen letters. My 14, 15, 16, & welght. My 13, 11, 12, a strong drink. My 7, 8,9, 10, to clean. My 5, 8, 4, 1, 6, & narrow passage. My 2, 8, 14, to partake of food. IX. My whole is the neme of & great hero. Place four nines in such a way as to make 100. EpNa M. Rouxer (C. R. C.). EviM1Ng F. Scumeiser (C. R. C.). . Cross-word enigma. My 1st is in dime, but not in cent. My 2d in coin, but not in rent: My 3d In eagle, slso in franc. My 4th in money, but not in bank. My 5th in gold. but not in bill. My 6th in penny, but not in mill My 7th in dollar large and round. While my whole, & jewel, may be found. 1. Wellington. IL (a) Wales. (b) Greece. (c) Turkey. (d) Lyons in France. (¢) Rome in Italy. (f) Berne in Switzerland. (@) Happiness—pin. (b) Inconstant—con. (¢) Villager—ill-age. (d) Vibrate—rat. (¢) Flannel—Ann. 1I . Pees are wise. . (a) Tulips. Are you wise? (3) Johnny Jump-up. () Ladies’ Slippers. (d) Wandering Jew. (e) Sweet William. () Maiden’s Hair. (9) Pink or Rose. VI. Indian shot. | VIL Please-lease-ease. Shall-hall-all. Blear-Lenr-ear. | VIIL. Pie—spies. Ham—:hams. He—whew. Eve—level. Tore—itores. 18 AR 8O0 F A A F AR R ARE R A H A RHINE ANT E There was once a dear baby from Juvenile Town Jumped out of a cabbage leaf His ears were like shells, and his hair was brown, The former of pink, the latter of down; But when he arrived he had nary a gown— This imp from a cabbage leaf. Now I’'m sorry to say that in Juvenile Land The babies wear only skin ; But when they arrive on our shores of sand They must look about for a dress or a band That will hide them all over the head and the hand— These imps with nothing but skin. And this is why Baby just hid in a petal (He told me the other day), For cabbages oftener are safer than nettle, Or dahiias, or squash leaves, or things of such mettle, For babies to hide in till we folks can settle On clothes that are built the right way. MABEL PUTNAM. S EB. Answers for duly 18, 1897. -