The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 10, 1897, Page 26

26 THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1897. THE STORIES OF OUR OWN STATE. HE children should not lose sight of the date for the close of the story-telling Competition relating to and having Cali- fornia for its theme. The last day upon which copy will be received will be Octo- ber 25. Consequently there is no time to lose. The best five stories about California will be printed side by side in one issue of THE Carr, and the boys' and girls’ page will be called for the occasion *‘The Young Authors’ Page.” This will call for a special heading for the page. Aninvitation is extended to all young artists who are pupils in the public schools to compete for the honor of baving a heading desizned by them placed at the head of the “Young Authors’ ” page. Full credit will be given for all designs re- ceived, and those that have particular merit will be reproduced. It may not be vossible to use many de- signs upon the same day that the authors have the pace, but if there are enough de- signs of merit offered tnere will be a day set apart especially for the young arti All competitors must send their photo- graphs. These must be carefully in- scribed with the name and postoffice ad- dress of the young aspirant for honors in every case, that the photograph may be returned at the close of the competition and that there may be no mistake when the time comes to publish the pictures. This morning the picture of A. Mar- guerite Weeks is presented. This young author is 11 years old. She is given a place of honor now for promptness and may have a chance of being declared later one of the five best young authors on the Pacific Coast. She was the first to patri- otically respond to tne call for stories to do honor to our own Californi: She re- sides in Pescadero and is a pupil in the Pescadero public schools. The beti story will be illustrated by the art department of Tre Cir. The por- traits of the five leading young suthors will be published on the “Young Au- thors’ ”” page. These stories will un- doubtedly be commented on throughout the United States, so that voung writers will have a chance that can seldom come in a lifetime to address a great audience at the very beginning of a literary career. | The competition is wide open to all the Pacific Coast, The rivalry. betwcen the schools will, undoubtediy, lead to the pro- duction of some line stories. There may be a necessity for giving up the page to the young authors and also to the young artists more than once. done, the desire being to encourage our young people as much as possible. Com- petent judges will pass upon the stories and also upon the work of the young artists. All who compete will receive full credit. Now is the time, boys and girls, to display your ability. No better oppor- tunity could be ‘ound. Come one, come all. The latchstring is out. Right here let it be understood that the quality of the stories about California that bavs come in is good. Vera Chisholm, aged 12, of the James Lick School, has a story in that has much merit. A. Law- rence Lee has taken a practical view and has furnished much information in a very small space. All of it is good. attends tne Hamilton Grammar School. TREASURE-HOUSE OF THE GENIE. HE treasure-house of the Genie of the | mountainis heaped full with piles of gold and silver and diamonds and rubies and many precious stones. Goldilocks saw all of these. “Let us go now to the treasure-house, for it is far,” the Genie said early in the morning. 8o Goldilocks walked with the Genie to the river. They came to the spot where one end of the Bridge of the Elves had been. There the Genie struck the river bank with his wand and Goldilocks saw betore her a long flight of steps which went down to the water's edge. These steps were not there when Goldi- locks went down a few days before to re- cover the silver arrow, but Goldilocks was not much surprised now to see the steps, for she was getting used to queer happen- ings in the heart of the mountains. She walked down the steps with the Genie until they were close to the water which roared louder than it ever had. “Where 1s the treasure-house?”’ asked Goldilocks. “The gate is through the whirlpool,” the Genie answered. Just beyond them the water whirled ronnd and round and in the middle of a ring of feaming waves was a hole sodeep that it locked as if it might lead into the middle of the world. “We will go down Genie. Goldilocks trembled and drew back. “Oh no,” she said, *‘I am afraid.” “There is no danger; we will have a boat,”” tie Genie told her. A big, yellow leaf was on the river. The Genie pointed his wand at it and it turned into a boat, which came, of itself, to the foot of the stairs and Goldilocks and the Genie stepped into it. There were no oars in the boat. only a boathook. With the hook the Genie pushed off from theshore, ‘‘Have you the Talisman, Goldilocks?'’ the Genie asked. *‘Yes,” the little girl answered. “Then keep a strong hold upon it, for when we are in the whirlpool we will meet my enemy, who had me chained. He will iry to get the Talisman onc: more. Donot speak, whatever he says, or you may lose the Talisman.” Now the boat began to rock and plunge and to rear like a wild horse. Over big waves it went and came to the whirling ring of foaming water, and round and the boat turned and the black water piled up above it on all sides, like a high and there,” s=aid the If 80, this will be | Lawrence | smooth wall. Then down and down and down the boa: sank, lower and lower, until nothing could be seen by Goldilocks | and the Genie but the whiripool's dizzy awful roaring, which grew louder all the time, | after the boat. who had fallen from He was the black giant, the Bridge of the es, and he had been forced to live in the whirlpool, swimming, ever since his fall. He caught up with the boat and held it with one hand and tried to tip it | over. | “Quick! | Genie. Goldilocks held up the arrow and the | black enemy let go his hold of the boat. | “I will see you once more,’’ ne said, scowling ferociously. At the bottom of the whirlpool the Genle raised his wand and the water parted and then arched over ina roof, ke a tunnel of glass, and the boat went under it, on small waves, without being wet one drop from the water over it. Now there was a loud, grating noise, as the outer floodgates of the Genie's | treasure-house were pushed back by the water fairies, and the boat, swift as a race- horse, darted into a little cove which was bordered on both sides by fountains of bright colors—red and purple and blue | and snowy white. Then the treasure-house came into | sight—a large building, which had be:n { carvel from one solid mountain ot marble | by the Geniein one night. | “Open!” said the Genie in a lcud | voice. | Doors of bronze were swung back with | @ crash, and the boat came to a landing. “Go. dear Goldilocks,” said | “Take the ivory box with the Talisman and place it in the hands of the first per- The silver arrow!” said the treasure-house, where it will slways be safe for me. Take from her what she gives you. Then, do notlook back, but run to me, holding the silver arrow. You may not see me again, but L will be near. Get, then, into the boat and sail away, and the | home, where your papa and mamma will be waiting for you.” So Goldilocks went into the treasure- house and saw great rooms filled with gold and silver and diamonds and rubies and | other precious things, Near the middie of a great marble hall was a flowing foun- tain. From this fountain, where she had bidden in the spray until Goldilocksdrew near, stepped a Fairy Queen, who was dressed in cloth of silver and who had on her head a crown of sweet flowers. She held out her hand, saying gently, “Welcome, Goldilocks.” Goldilocks gave the Fairy Queen the | ivory box and took a small heavy roll. Then she turned back toward the boat | bolding the silver arrow 1n her right hand. “Run, Goldilocks, said the Fairy Queen as she sank back into her fountain. Goldilocks ran, bearing heavy steps be- | hind her, but she never looked back. In | | Great Biork will guide you back to your | enemy was chasing her. Then she saw and heard the doors of the treasure-hcuse shut behind her, and she knew that the | Genie had made his black enemy a prisoner in the treasure-house. She was glad because the Genie would never be troublea again by his enemy. The boat 1n which Goldilocks had come gone. In its place was another, in which there were oars. Goldilocks stepped into | the boat, just as the Genie had told her to | do. and paddled with one oar, keeping the | roll that the Fairy Queen had given her very close to her. Soon a soft breeze blew, and this carried the boat on between high banks, which were all laid out in flower-beds. All around her were singing voices—little fairies whom she could not see. *‘Good-by, dear Goldilocks,” they sang; “come again some time."’ The river grew wide and roiled between broad, green fields to a gate. At the gate was the Great Stork, waiting for Goldi- locks. From the heart of the mountain came the voice of the Genie: +Thank you, Goldilocks, come again,” “Good-by; you are welcome,” Goldi- locks answered. The gate of the mountain opened ana | Goldilocks and the Great Stork passed out and were alone on the mountains. DAYS OF CHILDHOOD. When I was a beggarly boy Ana lived in a cellar damp, 1 had not a iriend or & toy, But1 had Aladdin’s lamp! Since then I have toiled day and night, 1 have money and power—good store, But I'd give all my lemps of silver bright, | For the one that is mine no more. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 0 playmate of the golden time!l | Our mossy seat in green, | Its fringing violets blossom yet, | The old trees o’er it lean. The winds so sweet with birch and fern, A sweeter memory blow, And there in spring the veeries sing The song of long a; JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. | circle, and nothing could be heard but its | | The Genie's enemy came—swimming the Genie. | the water she saw that the Genie’'s black | to the treasure-house with the Genie was | | | | | <o WORK. OF OUR YOUNG WRITERS. FARMER HAYSEED. | R | [TARMER HAYSEED had just finished ing the cows, when there came a knock at the door. | *“Come in,” cried Farmer Hayseed, and | added, “well, I'll swow,” for who could it | be but his neighbor, Mr. Wayback, dressed in his Sunday clothes. *‘Great haystack and st ors, what er yer got on yer Sun- day clothes fer?” | *“Well, ver =ee, Bill, me and my Sal is | zoin’ ter New York to see ther sights, and | I've come ter ask yer if yer mind going with us ter New York?”’ “Why, darn my stockings, man, I've | been ter New York oncst, and it’s the | worst place I ever saw, by gosh. No, siree; I've bin ter New York oncst, and | 'l swan I’ll never go there agin.” “Why, bow’s that, Jake?" | *Wal, ver see, Bill, I bad been a-read- ing the papers about New York and what W | a fine place New York was. by gosh. Wal, I told 1 Abram ter look after the farm till we'd | kom back. I packed up our luggage and off we went ter New | York. ““When we got ter | New York I took | mother round to see ther sights. By and | by mother gets kind o’ tired like, so 1 asked & policeman if he could tell me | where I could find a place to rest, as | mother was kind o’ | tired. ‘Well,' said the policeman, ‘lem- | me see. Yes, there's | aplace on tother side | of the street.’ So we went to the tother | side of the street | and to make sure he [ had told me right I | asked a small boy, | who was 'tother side of the side of the | street, and by gosh, | Bill, if the young scamp didn't laugh ana call me a fule, by gosh. He said tother side of the street was on tother ide, by golly, if he idn’t. | “Isaid, ‘Look here, yunster, I've bin on that side oncst, and they told me ’twas | over on this side.’ | *Anyhow, we went up tother side of ther street, and what do you think, Bill? the first place we komter was a rest-your-ant, f | but nary a place could I find to rest| | mother, by gosh. Yes, sirce, there was | plenty of piaces torest-your-ant, but darn | my stockings if there’s a place ter rest yer | poor old mother, by gosh. No, siree. No | New York ferme. I've bin there oncst |and know what ’tis, and I swan, I'll | never go there agin.” WiLLiay Brapy, U. 8. 8. Yorktown, Yokohama, Japan. IN THE ROSE GARDEN. Every rose sighed, for little Tiny was sobbing. Her doll was broken. “Adopt ue, Tiny,” said a yellow rose. “We will be gold to you.” *Take us, Tiny,’’ said the red roses. *'We will be fire.”’ “And us, Tiny,"” said the white roses. “We are purity.”” Then the pansies showed her their vel- vet and the violets their sky-blue dresses, | and the hollyhocks their red and pink vases, and all the flowers asked Tiny to play with them. Such a romp they had. When it was all over Tiny found that a | fairy had mended her doll. Then they sat down to tea. and the bees brought them their honey, and they were very happy. NELLIE LEWis. his cider and was thinking about milk- | | THE LITTLE BROTHERS. WO little brothers played together oft In the giad summertime, among flowers; As yet no grief had ever come to them— All goiden gleamed the swiftly passing hours— Until a morning when one did not wake. The sun's rays peeped across the window- sill, The littie birds sang out for him to come; He did not hear, but lay there, cold and stll the And all day long the little brother sat Apart in silent grief, and marve 'ed much At the blue eyes that were forever closed— The hands that could not feel nis lingering touch, And in the night, when all seemed wrapped in sleep, The child crept from his bed and crossed the floor Like a small, fleeing ghost, and did not stop Until he reached the children’s playroom door. al, mother | rhe mother heard the sound of little feet, | bad been sick o late, so I thought I'a | | son you meet. She will place it in the | teck mother ter New York fer her health, | And then beyond, to where the dead child lay, Ana saw a form pass down the oaken stair “He might get lonesome where he’s go- ingto!” MINNIE M. Bobpe. MY BOY OF THREE. Ican’tsay you're a model Of perfection, for you know *Tis your little way to toddle Just where’er you should not go; You are always in commotion Over something strange and new, And you’ve got a foolish notion That the wo:ld was made for you. You disclose so much invention In a mischief-making way That my nerves are kept on tension Every moment of the day. You are always coming crying, With your features black and blue, And there’s little use in trying To make pretty frocks for you, Your impressions are so fickle, So restless is your mood That you're mostly in a pickle When you're trying to be good, Ican’t describe you truly As an unexsmpled joy; You're & prattling, sweet, unruly, Happy, loving, litile boy. A MARGUERITE WEEKS, THE YOUNG PESGADERO AUTHOR. With folded hands—so quiet and so fair. She saw him lay some battered toys down, While unshed tears aimmed his pure eyes of biue, And heard him murmur in & childish voice, | find him. | took their dogs and found a cougar, which STORY OF A COUGAR. N the spring of 1891 we lived in a little valley surrounded by mountains cov" eied with thick timber. There' was a small creek back of the house. The place was known as “The Divide.” There was no other housa within haifa mile. There was a hill across the creek. An old bache- lor had a place through the timber over | the hill His name was Kendall. He lived a!l alone. We bad a garden and wanted a hoe. So | | he told us tbat we could have his if we would go and get it. One morning we started out for our destination. There | were five of us. We got there and stopped | to rest and alter resting we started back | | home again. ‘We were all right until we got to a pair of bars, through which we passed. As we were climbing through the bars a larze cougar jumped out of a tree and started after us. brother in her arms and we ran with all our might. We screamed all the while. Suddenly we stopped and looked around and saw the cougar leaping toward us. So Wwe gathered up cour- age and pressed on, not aaring to look around, Mr. Cougar followed us nearly to the foot of the hill. When we got home my sister sat down and wept, she was so frightened. No wonder that she cried. We all knew that the cougar could have easily torn us to pieces, and the way it chased us showed that it had a very bad temper. After he disappeared in the timber we thought that we could hear him snarling as he broke through the underbrush. Why the did not brate fol- low us? Perhaps he that was not far away, for the cougar is a knowing beast and is difficult as a weasel is to catch napping. Of course we gave the alarm as soon as possible. 1f the cou- gar had the courage to chase five of us h was an unsafe ani: mal to have 1n the vicinity, and we all wanted to make sure that he was out of the way. The story we told was listened to with wonder. Soon atter some men took their guns and went to kill him, but they could not A few months after some men they treed and shot, which measured 9 feet long. Has any one in California had a more exciting experience with a wild animal? It is possible, but that was enough for me, IrENE CoNDON. THE DOVE’'S NEST. SPENT three pleasant weeks of my va- cation at Dixon. The place where 1 was staying was sur- rounded by tall locust trees, and in the one at the corner of the fence I saw, at 6 o'clock tbe first morning I was there, a dove’s nest. Day by day 1 watchea it, | waiting for a chance to take a peep inside. I kept watching the dove so closely that she left the nest after she had laid one egg. It is well when you know where a bird’s nest is, or where one is being built, not to watch the nest too closely or go near the nest when the birdsare around, or disturb them in any way. Just before I came home I climbed the tree and got the egg in the nest. Froyp Sy, HER E AR RS PI 0 ¥ E THE BUMPKINS CROSSING THE FER Mamma picked up my | scented the danger | It was supposed to be the same | one thai followed us. This is a true story. BILLY KILLS A GRIZZLY BEAR. B ILLY OF OAKLAND was separated from Sam of Los Angeles, with whom he left ““CampCall,”” by following a blind | trail in search of a grizzly bear. | It was the highest ambition of the sturdy California boys, one and all, to | kill a grizzly. Weeks had passed and the | | vacation at “Camp Call” was drawing to | an end, and the boys’ rivalry grew sharper j every day. Ob, for a shot at a bhear! | After Billy and fam bad drifted apart | Billy called onceor twice to S8am, and even fired his rifle as a signal; but he received no answer. The report of the rifle, how- ever, started up the game he was hunting for—a real grizzly. Hardly had the sound of the rifle died away when it was answered,in a way. Then the head of a grizzly that had been | asleep not very far Irom the trail raiced | itself. A half sleepy grunt was the next manifestation. Then the grizzly was fally | ready for action. | Probably this grizzly had never heard a gun before. At any rate, it was full of | curiosity, which was not strange for a cub, | It came along toward Billy on a keen trot and did not stop until it was full in his | | view. Billy heard it coming and waited | | coolly to see what it could be. | “Well,” said Billy, rather humorously, to the bear, *‘good-morning. You thought that you’d come down and make me a call, did you? Weil, I take that as rather nice of you and I will try to aee that you are not lonely while you are here. Hope you'll enjoy my society.” There was & vein of rollicking fun in Billy that he could not control wholly, and he was amused to see the bear stop short at his voice and stand up on its hind legs. | “That is right,” he said, *‘always rise to welcome a guest.” But all this time Billy, while jocular, | was not idle. He had his gun ready, and | he had hardly said the last of the forego- ing words when he blazed away at the bear. | His aim was very good. The bullet | | struck the bear just hard enough to sting, | | missing his head but clipping a piece from | | oneof itsears. It wasenough to anger the bear, whose curiosity about a gun seemed | now to be satisfied, and it made a bee line | for Billy with all the speed it had, which | was much. | Bily stood his ground and tried another | shot, but by some accident the rifls would not go off. The bear was within fifty paces of him when he found out that he had ne help to count on from the aun. Wouid you have thought that you could outrun a bear? That was just what Billy began to do. He had won prizes as a sprinter at the spring games on the oval at Berkeley and he was still in fine condi- tion, bavine kept up to his training very well. If any one in California could out- run a bear for a short distance he could. Of course, he knew at the start that the | bear could run for hours. His only chance | was to run and trust to luck. He had noticed that morning that there was a drove of horses grezing in the open, per- haps two miles back from the place where b2 found the grizzly. Among these were several“cayuses, as | tough as leather, as all boys know. Billy headed straight as he could go for the open. He reasoned as he ran that ven if he could not throw himself on the uck of one of these horses he might at least make scme diversion to bring the bear to a halt and so get time to see what | was the matter with the rifle and fix it up for business. For, although the gun might tbrow him down by catching upon | the trees and bushes beside the trailas he | ran he piuckily determined to keep the gun. But at a bend in the trail he lost the gun, which was brushed from his hands | and tumbled in among the bushes, That turned out to be a piece of good | iuck, for the bear when he came along | stooped and smelled of the gun, and while be was doing this Billy gained some dis- tance that he saw, with anxiety, he had been losing. The bear, do the best that Billy could with his speedy legs, was drawing nearer, and Billy noticed that the brute was not hurrying, but was just tak- ing an easy gait with the idea of tiring him out. Now, there was a chance to increase the distance between himself and the bear, if ever so little. Billy sprinted in such style that if he had made a similar effort at any time on the Berkeley oval when the Oak- land High and the Lowell High were op- posed he would have won fame at once | and his name would have been enrolled among the record-breakers of the Pacific Coast without doubt. That proved 1o be his only chance, for the bear suddenly awoke to the idea that Billy was getting away from him and put on fresh speed. Billy had about a fair start for a handicap. He ran at top speed until he came near where he had seen the horses. He saw them again now, and as the wind was in the other direction they had not yet smelled the bear and they I were quietly grazing. I'T | bay to enter San Francisco. But they are There was a loud sniffing among the trees, | 8 Party to forage. Billy was astride one before it could fairly make un its mind what to do to shake him off. The next minute the cayuse dashed down the trail directy toward the bear, with Billy hanging on desperately and getting scratches from the overhead limbs that threatened to brush him otf and leave him to fight the bear as best Le coula. 3 But just as soon as the cayuse caught sight of the bear he turned about and made the race of his life, with the bear at no time more than a few paces behind. Billy was a born rider, and now he was so much at home that he began, as soon as the cayuse had once more reached the open, and there was no more canger of being swept to the ground by the tree limbs, to examine bis revolver, To his delight he found it to be all right. A lucky shot struck the bear on one fore foot. After that the brute limped ana was evidently burt. Four more shois served to bring the bear to his knees, and be did not rise again. Rilly saw the situa- tion. He threw himself from the horse, which was absolutely beyond control owing to its fear. He got a tew bruises, but was saved irom real harm by the grass and underbrush upon which he fell. He ran nimbly back along the trail, re- loaded his revolver and pui a speedy end to Bruin. The sound of the shots speed- | ily brought Sam upon the scene, and he was just in time to view Billy’s final triumph. BUMPKINS AND LIONS. HE Bumpkinsare undoubtedly having a hard time this week getting across the a lively crew and no little thing is enough to hold them back. First, after they de- | cided to visit San Francisco they sent oug They were at once hunted by a granger, wiio has beaq follow= ing them ever since to get back his fruit, | eggs and other produce; but the Bumpkins | are s> lively that he isstill in the rear. Next week the Bumpkins will be seen in the act of having a ‘“‘tug-of-war'’ contest, for the possession of a “‘bobcar,” in which toride up Market sireet in proper St’fl* The sea lions are seen to-day enjoying a family picnic. There is the mischievous urchin who will not wait for lunch time, but helps himself; the mnusical (?) party who insists upon furnishing music of a vocal sort, such as the children have often heard at the Chiff and so can fully appre- ciate; the lovers, who want nothing but to be left to talk soft nonsense; the mother of the party, and the great swell. R el LETTERS FROM THE CHILDREN. LYNDALL MILLER JR. writes: “I was | very much pleased 10 see my last letter pub- lished. I always look out for THE SUNDAY CALL and I am now getiing so that I can read the stories pretty well. I send you s yictureof a dog that went down the avenue with a tin can fastened to his tail.” MADGE BROWN writes from Pluto, Mendo- cino County: *Qur school stood the highest of any school in the county and we have the prettiest school in the county. 1 am ac- quainted with Caroline Gonsalves and I think she writes pretty letters.” JACK RE OLDS is a live boy. His first letter to THE CALL, which has been crowded out by lack of space, shows this. Here is anex- tract: “The other evening I went to the cir- cus and had & lovely time aud I saw a lion jump over a horse and riding a horse and he jumped through a ring of fire and there was & lion thatl thought wouid kill the man, he roared at him so,and there was a great many other nice 1hings.” GLADYS BELL, C. R. C., of Pacific Grove, hasa love of nature. Here is a pleasing ex- tract from a letter written by her: “Almost every SBunday papa, mamma, my little sister and myself walk into Monierey tp see grandme. Itisalovely walk. We go through the woods, where the pretty pine trees are swaying back and forth, casting cool shadows on the path, with its thick brown carpet of pine needles. Then, l-aving the pretty paih behind, we come to New Monterey, lying be- tween Pacific Grove and Monterey. Climbing a short but steep pitch we stop to rest. A few steps more and we see through an opening in the woods Monterey Bay, on whose blue waters, like white-winged birds, the fishing- boats are sailing.” Gladys will probably write oae of the best stories about California. It must be in by Oce tober 25 to gei a place in the competition. Sm L TO CORRESPONDENTS, ORA F. MARTIN, Pasadena—You should enter the competition pending, for the honor of writing the best story about California. CHARLES LUMMIS—Glad you like boy stories. A serialstory will soon begin, which wiil take all the boys from ‘‘Camp Cali” on a long voyage to New Guines, where they will meet many adventures, with the spirit that becomes California boys, among the cannibals of that great island. The first installment will be published in about two weeks. ELINOR LEE—Your suggestion is good, Probably all the pictures of the young peop e who write the stories about California will be published. Under each picture will be the name and residence of the aspiring young autbor. All the stories cannot be published, others. J 1 but the five best will appear, and also several ‘ LEON M. HYSLOP of Salt Lake City has write ten a story about “The Little Boy Who Played With Matches.” The story will be considered. MARY MORRIS LLOYD—Story good. It will be published. SABRINA MURPHY—Write something about Calitornia in competition. Yes, tne editor of the Boys' and Girls’ page pleads guilty to writing the ““Goldilocks’ story. ANNIE CLEIR, Oakland—That s right. Send the California siory in. You may be one of the successful five. Members of the C. R. C. are requested to send in thelr pictures. Wherg is yours? CHARLES WILLIAM UBHOFF has written a verse on “‘Christmas Month.”” Itisa little early, but if Charles is in haste the verse may sppear a little before the stocking-filling season of the jolly saint. Who wrote the story “Jock, a True Story” ? The address has been mislaid. Walter W. Case’s portrait was printed in the C. R. C. gallery on the first Sunday in Seps tember. RY TO SAN FRANCISCO.