The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 22, 1898, Page 31

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, MAY 22, 1898. 31 88 P r g NRRUURUIIRIUILIERR8 FOUNTAINS. R"RNRE SRR R LR R AL RT R L AR R AR R RR R R R R R R HE Lob-Lolly poked Sinbadinthe ribs and Sinbad laughed—laughed so that his spectacles fell from his nose upon the Market street pave- ment and broke both len out. But that did not seem to make any dif- ference with Sinbad's sight. Katy and Charlie picked up the pieces of lens and looked through them and found that they did not magnify one bit. But that is neither here nor there, except that it sho that Sinbad only pretended s were POOT. y well,” said Sinbad, when he i “that will do Well, v well they will think it out of The Lob-Lolly led the wa Sinbad Kat Lotta we came to i aid that he was thirsty about to go over for a drink when the Lob-Lolly said that he knew a trick worth two of and he wa that. He would call the fountain over. So he did, and the fountain actually came te us. It hoisted itself slowly and painfully from its pedestal and clumped heavily over the paving stones, and its - ing cups clinked against its sid it wobbled. a landlubber,” said the Lob- and it hasn't got its sea legs on Sinbad. “I have lived two thousand ars in Bagdad and I never have seen thing like that.” “Bagdad is slow,” remarked the Lob- Lolly. “You have to come to San Francisco to learn; but you'll do, after a while. 3ah! What is this? Plain water? I would not call a fountain off Ho, there! Soda- if you please, and nothing less young friends.” ¢ the fountaln gurgled! it'was! There was a hiss- n the fountain like ctly there leaped from best ice-cold soda sted. Where the e fountain telling how thirsty city there mentioning that chocolate and rose, lower, orgeat and and banana, , and I don’t know syrups, were to be its base for that! water, Did Hameline played? Not more children followed him than there now came forth when the Lob-Lolly, making a trumpet of his hands, signaled them to leave candy stores and doll shops and toy counters, and come to him. “Children,” said the Lob-Lolly, put- ting his sailor hat upon one side of his head and looking very comical, “last week I gave the boys of San Francisco —an even 500 of them—a great swing. To-day is for the girls, and they are going to have all the icecream soda hey can drink. Step up, little girls, ay what you will have.” at a mob of little girls, with Katy 1is time in the front rank! There were ns and scores and hundreds, and all shouted out the name of the liked, and all wanted to be For the first time the Lob- bed first. _olly looked unhappy. “There will not be around.” He covered his face with his hands as if ashamed. The Lotta fountain saw the trouble. Bl s heart of iron! There must be place In it after all. Clump, ip! Out Market street it a until it came opposite the Na- monument. The fountains bowed and bowed and drew neares. We could see then that the Natiye Sons’ monument was also full of soda water, and, luckily, had a full assort- ment of syrups. How the little girls chattered and ed and drank icecream soda out until they were enough to go laug of the drinking cups, sfied and happy; and they gave ir dolli plenty also. got never a drop! ‘come on, boys. I know where there is_another fountain on Market street. Let's g and perhaps we will have th But the boy ‘Huh!” ejaculated Charli e thousand wild young Arabs tore down Market street, velling, to where the fountain had stood so long. Charlie was the master of ceremonies, and he was a great success in that ca- pacity. The fountain fizzed, and from it came soda-of all flavors; and all the boys had their treat, and they rollicked and jibed at the girls. Down came the Lob-Lolly and Sin- bad. “Good boys,” said Lob-Lolly. “Do you like medicine?” “Nens, 'y said Sinbad. “Do you really like castor ile?” A fearful picion came to each and every boy, which rapidly ripened into a sickening certainty. They had been fooled, one and all, and had drunk a large quantity of that oil which chil- dren dislike more than anything on earth—the New England dose of brim- stone and molasses not excepted! In- stantly they all rushed for the water front and gazed upon the sea for awhile painfully. “My watch needs winding,” said the Lob-Lolly. “I think I will use Uncle Collis’ turntable to fix it!” The queer Lob-Lolly—while Sinbad chuckled at his cleverness—drew forth a fine wire, one end of which he fast- ened to the turntable upon which the cable-cars revolve. The other end he fastened to the key of his old watch. One revolution of the turntable turned the key many times, completely wound up the Lob-Lolly’s watch and Sinbad's and stirred up a milk-shake machine. The Lob-Lolly drank milk-shake, and, when he w: not drawing in his breath, whistled shrilly through his teeth. DLW THE LOST CHILD. BY JULIETTE DRISCOLL, SAN FRANCISCO. HE following notice appeared in every morning paper in the town of X, and the people of the town were very much excited over the announcement, which read thus: “A large reward offered for the re- covery of a child, aged 5, has fair hair and blue eyes. Anyone knowing the whereabouts of the child will please re- port to station C Yes, it was true, pretty little Ruby g‘ Gray had been either stolen or lost; but it was supposed by the majority of the people that she had been stolen, as no one had seen her and she had been missing two days. Her father was one of the principal business men of the town and he kept a large tin store. The father and mother were nearly frantic with grief, as no trace of the missing child had been found. Time went on until a whole year had passed, and still no trace had been found. Mr. and Mrs. Gray have changed com- pletely and both are careworn and sad. No wonder, for this was their only child, beloved not only by them but by everybody who had the pleasure to know her. During all this time the above notice IHAVE LIVED Two THOUSAND| YEARS NEVER s = JAVE S < >, ANYTHING LIKE-Z THAT ' 7 appeared every day in all the papers. At last the father had an idea that if he would disguise himself as a man with tins®to mend and go through the surrounding towns he would perhaps find his child. So he went and into every small town, traveling day after day, but it seemed of no avail and he began to think that his search was fruitless. One day he happened to go to some little far away town. He had almost given up all hope and this seemed to be the only town he had not visited. He went around all the morning until he came to an old cottage where an old beggar woman lived. He knocked at the door and waited a while, but no- body came. At last he heard somebody coming up a path which led to the house. He turned, thinking it was some women, when, to his surprise and joy, he saw his own child. He knew her, although she was dressed in rags and differed much from the bright happy child of fifteen months ago. At first she did not recognizé her father in his disguise, but as soon as she heard his volce she uttered a cry of delight and rushed into his arms. They were then interrupted by the ap- pearance of an old woman, who came to see whom “her child,” as sh: termed her, was talking to. As scon as she saw Mr. Gray she knew it must be the father and she confessed her aying she had stolen the child while she was walking in the because she wanted hei to sing while she begged, as she made much more in that way than she would otherwise. 2 The old woman asked for mercy and Mr. Gray was so happy at the recovery of his child that he almost forgot all about the old woman and sai¢ ‘‘yes,” for he was thinking of the good news he would carry home to his wife—not only news, but his child. - SOME JUDGES ARE SLOW. Some of the judges of the boys’ and girls’ storles are slow. The opinions up to date are as follows: For the girls, 4; boys, 3; doubtful, 2; yet to hear from, 6. R 245 % " ?a?ssssms38ssssse32uuaususmuusnumussssssassfi& STORY OF A BURGLAR. & E] I oo B4 su8BN R RN RSN RRRRENRNNRNERRRRRRRRRS T was a cold, stormy night. We sat close by a blazing fire trying to drive away the homesick feeling which would creep into our hearts. My maiden grandaunt, Sister Kate and myself were on a short visit to my uncle and his wife in San Francisco, but they . were necessarily called away for the evening, so we were left to the tender mercies of our own thoughts and society. We were aroused by the ringing of the bell and I reluctantly left my com- fortable seat to answer it. Aunt Ho- nora and Kate stood a little way back in the hallway in view of the door, to come tc my rescue in case some des- perate character should make his en- trance, knowing the absence of the male element of the household. All things were possible in a large city, and, besides, we had heard that large numbers of tramps visited San Fran- cisco during the winter months. “‘Please, N id a very humble voice, whick ght Uriah Heep to my mind, “K do a little somethin® for a poor man? Here my aunt and sister appeared. He told us he was subject to rheuma- tism, and showed us his fingers, which looked remarkably stiff. One of his lower limbs was affected in like man- ner, which made him use it with a pe- culiar swin Poor fellow! He was VI anxious to do a little work so as to help some in the support of his wife and numerous children. He had lost his situation through illness. Kate asked if he wouldn't like to go into the country. She knew further needed some one to do the little odds about the farm. But the man thought the climate wouldn't agree with him; and then he couldn’t bring himself to part with his family, the only thing left him in the world. We all sympa- thized with him, and Kate felt asham- ed for having asked him such a thing. Aunt Honora invited Mr. Poor Man in. She left us to entertain him while she went to the Kitchen tc prepare something hot. * Dear, sweet Aunt Ho- brou nora! Alwa ready with sympathy and a helping hand. Kate and f took our visitor upstairs to try on a pair of uncle’s shoes, his own were so worn out. He admired various costly articles which were the room. Nothing scattered about seemed to escape him. Kate and I felt that there must be something appre- ciative in his nature which made him feel the value of what he saw. I thought I heard him say “Oh, Solomon, that's a corker!” to a handsome pen- knife that lay on the table, but Kate did not hear any such comment, and she thought, when we talked it over afterward, that I must have been mis- taken, because he seemed such a gen- tlemanly fellow, and such an expres- sion was beneath him. Having found a palr of shces which fitted him, we went downstairs to the dining-room, where my aunt had a nice warm supper spread. He just ate and ate and ate, and how he did enjoy everything! He was very confidential and told us all his trou- bles—and how many he did have! Aunt Honora gave him some money. He was very, very thankful, and in his humble way said, as he took his de- parture: - “May God keep yer well an’ happy, ladies, and bless yer with good hus- band ‘We were all very much affected, but Aunt Honora was particularly touched, and told him to call again whenever he was in trouble, and gave him an extra doll . Everything was quiet and peaceful, apparently, and after a time we slept soundly, as healthy people are wont to do. Suddenly it seemed as if a great earthquake shook the house. The shrill screams of my Aunt Susan— which were very shrill indeed—mingled with the loud, deep voices of men awoke us from our slumbers. Kate STARTLING EFFECT UPON THE BUMPKINS AND THE GRANGER OF A NIG end I jumped up very much fright- ened. A knock on the door, and the gentle voice of Aunt Honora, very much agitated, bade us hasten and un- lock it. “What is the matter?” cried Kate. “A burglar!” gasped my aunt, com- ing in quickly and then making sure of all locks. Locks! Why, they were mere playthings for such men. Noth- ing would do until we pushed the bed up against the door and then sat on it to give it additional weight. That would surely keep him out. An intense stillness came over the house. Not+a breath or morement could be heard. We did not move a muscle, but sat looking in a wild way at one another, thinking possibly the burglar having subdued my aunt and uncle, was making his way toward us. We sat numbed by awful suspense. A hand was on the doorknob and gave it a quick turn. Oh, the horror and dread of that moment. We did not leave our seats, but remained cold and still, with glaring eyes fixed on the door, or on as much as we could see of it. Another turn, and yet another, and then Aunt Susan’s volce called, “Open, quick!” The relief was so great that for a moment we were all helpless. We gradually recovered, and moying the bed to one side, let my aunt in. “Where is he?” I whispered, opening the door about two inches for fear Mr. Burglar might attempt following her in, but, dear me, I miscalculated Aunt Susan’s size. Before she was wholly in the room, the door was opened to a considerable extent.. “Safe, thank goodness”—in reply to my question. Then, locking around in a bewildered way at the general hap- hazard fashion in which the furniture stood—"“Why, what's the matter? Afraid of the burglar?” Then, breaking into a very hearty laugh, she said: “Oh, children, the burglar is nobody but your own mis- chievous brother, who thought to play a joke on you. He was also the tramp whe came to the door with such a tale of woe, and whom you so generously wasted your sympathy upon. He says the supper Aunt Honora prepared for him tasted awfully good and he in- tends buying each of you girls a me- mento with the money donated to the wants of his seventeen children.” Aunt Honora, dear soul, looked em- barrassed, and I for one was speech- less. Clara Malter. Our young friends must not expect “Brer Uncle Sam” to have an unbroken series of victories over “Brer Spain.” Indeed, the Spanish rabbits have come upon the scene to-day with a “moni- tor” which looks very dangerous to “Brer Uncle Sam.” HT ALARM OF A SPANISH SP R RRRRRRRRRURURNBRRNRRRIRRARBRIRIBRIRRSS E : THE YARD OF COTTON. § P NN NRERENNENNNRRRRRNNNNNNNRR NE day not long ago a groan was heard proceeding from a lunch basket hanging in the cloakroom of room No. 12, Bryant School, Tacoma, Wash. A voice from another basket hanging near asked what was disturbing its neigh- bor that he uttered such mournful sounds. Conversation continuing close attention was given and this story was heard: “I am bemoaning my fate. To- morrow I will be burned and I fear will reach the end of my existence. “Away down in Louisiana, several years ago, a cotton planter gave me, with several more of my kind, to his little girl, to plant a cotton garden for herself. I was an ordinary cotton seed of irregular oval form and measuring a fraction of an inch. My little mis- tress planted me and when I grew to be a white tuft of cotton I was picked and sent to the gin to be separated from the seeds which grew with me. I was then packed into a bale and sent to a town where there are several cotton factories and was there put through a carder, which combs and straightens the fibers, and then the spinner made me into threads, which were afterward woven into one yard of white cloth. “Some of my comrades were sent to the dye house and transformed into pretty colors. I was sold later to a flour bag manufactory and then to a flouring mill, whence in course of time I came forth bearing fifty pounds of white flour. A lady bought me, and great was my joy to find I had again entered the home of my little mistress. “By-and-by the little maid wanted an apron, and as I was fine and white and she was economical, I was made into the apron. I loved my little maid so much that I stayed by her five days in the week, the other two days being spent in the laundry. “My new position pleased me so much that I resolved to last as long as I could, but the harsh treatment given me in the laundry wore me out, and I was deposited in the rag bag. One day the little maid wanted a slate cloth for school, and her mother wanted a nice, soft face cloth. I was taken from the rag bag and divided to fill these wants. You can imagine how pleased I was, as I feared I would never see my little maid again. I did not last long in my new place, and was again thrown into the rag bag, this time to be sold to a peddler, who turned me over to a fac- tory where I was made into wrapping paper. “I was sold by the factory to a store in Tacoma and a few days ago I was wrapped around a parcel of cloth and delivered to a house in the west end. Some things inside of the house looked familiar to mg, and when the children came home from school I was overjoyed to find among them my little maid, who had emigrated to Tacoma during my absence. I was afraid she would not know me, but she must have done so, for she used me this -aorning to wrap up her luncheon. Now I am sorrowful, for I will no doubt be used in the morning to start the breakfast fire. My last wish is that the flames may turn me into a cottonseed again, and that I may become the property of another little maid.” Grace T. Scott, Tacoma. LITTLE BOYS AND LITTLE GIRLS. BY ELLA COSTELLO BENNETT. Little Bessie strolled along, looking trim and neat, From her broad, beribboned hat, to her dainty feet. Dress of dimity so fresh, lace be-trim- med and white, Broidered _skirts, smoothly ironed lalthough out of sight). Golden hair curled gracefully, floating all around, 3 Bessle seemed a fairy vision trippingo’er the ground. Then strolled Tommy Jones along, with his coat askew, to the side, dirt from Necktie twisted ents and tears newly S0 cap to shoe, Mud bespattere made that day; Bessie spied him coming, so she looked the other way. Little girls were ever haughty, Little boys were ever naughty! “Bess,” said Tommy, coming nearer, don’t you want to play?” e looked askance at Tommy; “Bes- please do, say— Tet's play school, you be the teacher, I will be the scholar, You can whip me, if you want, Bess, I won't even holler.” Tommy coaxed and Bessie listened, long- ing to consent, For she was a bit coquettish, and she only meant, Just to let him beg and coax her; then to answer yes. “You look awful nice,” saild Tommy, ‘won’t you play? Please, Bess.” “Tommy Jones, you look too dirty.” Tom- my hung his head; Bessie scolded all the longer, seeing Tom turn red. Tommy then was getting angry, still he didn’t show it, *Til a little impy whispered, “Take some mud and throw it.” Tommy heeded, quick he gathered mud and let it fly Right on Besste's neat belongings; Bes- sie could but cry! Little girls were ever haughty, Little boys were ever naughty! “Tommy Jones, how could—how could You ever be so mean?” “Just because,” said Tommy Jones, “you looked so nice and clean, I thought I'd make you look like me and fix your dress with dirt; I dian’t mean to hit your face, though, Bessie; did it hurt? T'm sorry if it did, I only meant te hit your dress; Say, won't you please forgive me— please,” and Bessie answered ‘yves.’ “Now, let me kiss you once,” said Tom- my, “that will make it well. And I promise if you'll let me, sure—T'll never tell.” And Tofnmy, waiting not an answer, gave a hearty smack; Then, fearing Bessie would be angry— Tommy took it back! Little girls were ever haughty, Little boys were ever naughtyl THE FORGETFUL MERCHANT. BY J. G. LYLE, SAN FRANCISCO. In the office of a large wholesale house in the City of C—, sat the owner, Mr. Logan, who was looking over some of the firm’s books, when he was interrupted by the appearance of the elevator boy, Joe Barris. “Mr. Logan,” he said, “the elevator gate has been broken nearly a week and I am afraid some one will be hurt.” “I'll have it attended to at once, Joe,” was the merchant’s reply. And he turned to his work once more. Just then a man entered the office and held a short conversation with Mr. Logan. Then they left the store. On Mr. Logan’s return Joe again re- minded him about the broken elevator gate. “T’ll send right out and have it fixed,” was the merchant’s answer, and then he turned to converse with a friend. Still Joe felt uneasy about the broken gate. He knew if any one was to lean against it the gate would open and the , RO o N e - \\ |\ 4 Y IN. CAMP HARD TACK, person would fall to the basement and would most likely be seriously hurt, The elevator was used a great deal without Joe being in it and so he could not caution everybody. Two more days passed and the ele- “vator gate still remained in the same broken condition. Joe resolved to speak to his employer once more. ‘When Joe spoke to Mr. Logan for the third time about the gate, he exclaimed, “It slipped my mind, Pll send Harris (the janitor) to have it fixed at once.” And then he went out on some im-= portant business. On the following day Mr. Logan went up in the elevator while Joe was absent to select some certain goods. He had evidently forgotten about the elevator gate being broken, for on his way down he leaned against it. The gate gave way and Mr. Logan fell to the floor below. The noise brought several of his em- ployes to the scene. He was removed to his home and a doctor summoned, who found his injuries were not very serious. The next day Mr. Logan sent word to the store to have the elevator gate fixed at once. Mr. Logan said, “It is one of the best lessons I ever learned in my life. Never put off until to-morrow what can be done to-day.” e CUR little friends, the Bumpkins, are preparing to conduct war upon land, and it will be ob- served that they are having a lively time trying to find a Spanish spy who has been reported to be in Camp Hardtack, hunting for their plan of campaign. LITTLE GRETCHEN. BY FLORENCE E. TILLEY. SAN FRANCISCO. One morning, one ,of those exquisite mornings that are to be had only in Hol- land, known as the home of the windmills, little Gretchen was enjoying her usual morning walk. In this place nearly everybody raises one’s own vegetables, and Gretchen’s family is one of the many who do. So this is how she manages to get her usual stroll. She is waked up every morning an hour or two before breakfast, and with her willow basket on her arm she goes out to gather up the vegetables for the day. Innocent little Gretchen never dreams of the cuaint little picture she would make for some artist. At last Gretchen has gathered up all she needs. So she starts for home on a new route, This leads through pleasant lanes axllid through fields ‘with brooklets by their sides. In the house breakfast has been pre~ realy like, | Gaster He? pared by her father, for her mother 18 unable to be about. She often wishes her walks were lonier, for she loves to drink in the pure alr, but She being the oldest is obliged to_ help, and yet she brings in a great deal of sun- Shine with her quiet ways to her poor invalid mother.