The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 5, 1898, Page 32

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JUNE 5, 1898. said the Lob Lolly, “it will come out all right.” doubtingly, and sharks all went to the Gol Katy and Charie, Si 1y brought up the the park witt e will notice him. t loose and he back to his old home in the through with his ill 's another poem.” “Where did you war poems, tty bad, ever off the iron Great-Big-Bear in the th said that they stealing a bear, with them that at would happen oppose what the Haight-street s: Xo policeman but there were and a raft of women ana t was all right, but the go. He anchored him- , evidently meaning he could eat up all candies, bananas One of his first He ate all the pea- nuts and opened his mouth for more: lugged the whole stand , with the help of Sinbad, to cars and threw Then the bear ambled in and began to gorge himself. one of the conductor?” in the Most of these persons were willing to neighborhood had run away. watch of in proceedings from the windows upper stories in the near-by build- “Let’s you'n me run the car, Sinbad.” “‘All right let’s, but let me say that I have lived 2000 years in Bagdad and I have never seen anything like this.” Katy and Charlie and 1 were on the front seats of the dummy. Sinbad told us all to get off and push and so we did. My, but it was hard work getting the car up the hill from the turntable, but when we were on top of the grade it was all that we could do to get on the car before it could run away from us. By this time the grizzly had finished eating and was satisfied to go into the place usually occupied by the cable gripman. What an intelligent bear. He seized the bell cord over head and rang like a good fellow. “Clang, clang, clang! Get out of the way,” said the bell, as plainly as ever bell has said anything since there were bears or bells. An old lady at the corner waved an umbrella at us and shrieked out that she would report us to the superintend- ent because we failed to stop. A fat man tried to get upon the plat- form as we flew past, slipped, turned a complete somersault in the air, and landed squarely on top of his bald head and he kicked so that he seemed to have as many legs as an ottopus has arms. A dog tried to cross the tracks in front of us and his tail was amputated as cleverly as it could have been done by an expert. Going down the grade toward Market street we got up such speed that the telegraph poles looked to be as near together as toothpicks in a bunch. We whizzed around the Market street curve. Just then Sinbad and the Lob Lolly both came to the front of the car and looked a little anxious. They were sail- ors, indeed, and even the jarring of the car and its wild swaying to and fro were not enough to make: them walk unsteadily. Not so with the griz- zly. All the whoops of all the Indians since Columbus discovered America, if rolled into one, would have been less striking than the growls and whines of the bear. He was scared and crawled over upon the dummy seat, edged his way along between Katy and Charlie and sat there, snugly, with his two arms around the two children, smiling in the funniest bear way possible. “We've got to throw out a drag or go to Davy Jonmes' locker this time, sure,” sald the Lob-Lolly, with a little chuckle. “Drag it is,” said Sinbad. There was crash at the back end of the car. The two sailors had broken off the back dasher and were fasten- ing it to the bell cord, which they had pulled down. The bear was every minute squeez- ing the children harder and harder and something cracked. “What is that, Katy?” I asked. “One of your ribs?” ‘““Worse than that. of striped red and broken.” “Heave,” commanded the Lob Lolly. “Heave it is,” responded Sinbad, and they together threw overboard ' the dasher. We stopped just before we reached the ferry. All the ferry-boats were out, all except a little one, with a walking beam, that runs over to Berkeley. - We all hurried onto that and pushed off. The bear took hold My long stick white candy is Any ol’ thing o’ theirs Th of one side of the walking beam and the Lob Lolly and Sinbad were on the other side. Katy and Charlie and I steered all together. It was fun to see the walking beam carry the bear in the air; and then carry the Lob Lolly and Sinbad. The bear worked as if he thought the whole performance some sort of a game. We laughed and laughed and cheered, and the bear growled as the boat steadily forged ahead. When we reached the Berkeley shore we all sat on the wharf until we were rested and there we feasted on the pieces of Katy’s stick of striped candy, the bear enjoying it more than any of us. If you are asked where the bear has gone do not tell, for this is all a secret. He is off in the mountains somewhere. D. H. W. “IN THE WAY. ROUN’ BY ELLA M. SEXTON. it's hard to be a little boy, hat's what I've always found), Big fellers have dead loads o' fun An’ make us stan’ around Or chase the ball—but when it comes Our “licks” they up an’ say, “Clear out, you little kids, we don't Want you roun’ in the way.” THe Lo loLLYS SOTRATEQY. An’ the big boys think it's jest our fault We did't come to town ‘When they did—an’ they call us names s up an’ down! got such secrets, oin’ off to play An’ keep Where we can’t go along—they don't ‘Want us roun’ in the way! An’ brothers is the worst of all! They’'re always 'fraid you'll touch as if y'd got so drefful much! So they lock their drawers an’ hide the rest An’ then they growl an’ say, “Mommer, here’s that kid, T don't Want him roun’ in the way.” So I jest wish I was Number One (Instead ‘o Number Three), I'd give the littie boys a chance To live then, don’ u see? “Don’t mind, you'll be A big boy too, some day,” But they make me tired jest saying they Mommer sa. Want me roun’ in the way! o | OK, 1F -JJE WHEELER Co0D opLysee 15" [ 5 2 TWO BOY ‘8:‘!333!2!3!88883!282&8 ATRIOTIC little Douglas W. Dodge is 9 years old only. He is a live, wi eawake San Francisco boy, who lives at 26 Pleasant street. Into his young head came an idea that he wou i go forth to serve his country and to honor the beautiful flag which is a visible sign of freedom. That he is not on his way to Manila with the First Regiment of California Volunteers is due only to an accident of whick. he is not respon- sible. Little Douglas has a brotk-r who is an artist well known to_thousands of readers of The Ca’ Douglass may have artistic instincts. Certainly the great outpouring of _hildren when the first troops, the arti’ ry men from the Presidio, passec ao Van Nessavenue and ‘Golden ‘G: ‘e venue on their way to the cars, touch 1 a responsive chord in his breast.. “ank upon rank, thou- sands and tl.ousands of our fan Fran- cisco boys and gir't lined Van Ness and Gold n Gate avenue as the grim can- non rumbled by, ma ned by Americans whose gallantry can..ot be called into question. 3 Little Douglass carried an American flag that proud day His shrill little voice was raised in chorus with thon- sands of other shrill little voices and his flag kissed the breeze with thou- sands of other flags, while the pleased artillery: men boweX and manifested their pleasure, and he thought that they bowed to him. Proud, exultant, hearing still ir his ardent i- agination the dull rumble of the cannon wheels and the . footfalls of the artillery horses, he awaited with impatience the march pf the First United States In- fantry. Once more the sidewalks burgeoned with myriads upon myriads of Amer- ican flags, upheld by childish patriots, boy and girls. Looking down upon them it seemed as if Freedom’s flower garden was there in its full bloom. Onward came the magnificent First Infantrr. swarthy, keen of eye, alert as greyhounds, sinewy, lordly, every inch heroes: each.swinging along at a natural gait. There Wwere their shel- ter tents, their uniforms, their rifles, swift to sing a miserere, their flags; their baad—and the were real sol- diers who had seen service fizhting In- dians—real, live, ferocious redskins! “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah” shouted little Douglas, shouting until he was hoarse, shouting and waving his flag until the soldiers were away down the street and off 1 the war. ‘Wzs there ever a live American boy who has failed to elieve that Amer- ican soldlers are the best so “fers on earth? Not one. Nor was taere ever an American boy who d'l not firmly believe that victory must » ways go with the American “~~ Imagine now a boy's idea of a battlefield. Guns go off with a stunning noise; men on horses hold up long shining swords and yell “forward” to daring cavalry men, who sweep forward with the speed of the wind vith bared sabers flashing; or lead the men who carry the guns upon which are fixed sharp glist-ning bayone!s and who advance on the run, cheering all the time, un- der the folds of the Star Spangled Banner. Hither and yon are brave drummer boys beating lustily on their drum head.. while fifes shrill and * bugles sound the loud ala.um of war. The foe flees. . Victory, victory, oh victory! for the beautiful red, white and blue. The red, white and blue for- ever! Nor was there ever a curly headed little dreamer of a boy who has not pictured how ne it would be to sail over summer seas by day and by night, listening to the wav foaming as they are parted by the cieaving, sharp bow of the trnsty ship. Then, too, suKuNuREIWLLs 81 SRRUNNRNRY SOLDIERS think the ‘reamers, there are coral islands in the Pacific, each inclosing a silvery lagoon, each surrounded by a ring of white, hoarse breakers, the foam from which rises like smoke and blows far inland, to beilew slender palm trees and pineapple trees and be- salt the faces of fie island men and women, who live in grass huts and carry about awful wa clubs, but who would scamper away at the sight of real soldiers! Sinbad, Robinson Crusoe, shipwrecks, sharks, how de- lightful! When little Douglas Dodge talked to a friendly grocery man—for all the world. just as little Lord Fau .tleroy used to talk to his grocery man—he found a stimulus for his imagination and into his head c: :e the idea which grew into fixed determinatior that he would go to war a=d fight for the United States and b. a real nine-year- old soldier. He “eard tha there was a lady who wanted him to go to Cuba with her and he thcught it would be well to have her with him, but this lady was a fiction, invented by some one who did not know the child. Very well, then; he could not go to Cuba—he would go to Manila with the First California Volunteers. H- ‘kept his secret. The day came when the Californians made their ever famous march from the cam- ground to the Pacific Mail cock. Douglas looked at th- with beating heart and eager eyes. He heard the band, saw the marching, and thought i’ all simply glorious. He had secretly planaed to stow himsel away on the 1 king and g0 with the Californians. He was not able to get upon the ship. But his purpose was indomi* _ble. Another march took place and the First Oregon Regiment caused huzzas to smite the sk~ - _hey gallantly pro- ceeded to embark ujon the Australia City of S--dnev for the far off s, to t. the assistance of the brave Admiral ™ -vey. The troops marchec un the gang planks and were aboard. Cowering.in the half dusk of the“between decks” of the Sydn v, in among the bunks erected for ‘he use of th: soldiers boys, was the form of a boy—a. very little boy. No one noticed him for.a long ti..e. He trembled but felt happy. He was a stowaway and he was little Douglas Dodre. How he came there _.cannot pretend to ex- plain. The great steamer swung ldly at the dock while .tores were going on board. Crowds watch-* and-admired the sol- diers, but no one knew about the little stowaway; at least .he thought so. But now the time for departure drew near. The bow line: of the vessel had been loosened. Dow to where Doug- las Dodge was hiding came an inquis- itive soldier ar * la- ° hards upon the boy and led him forcibly up to the deck, where he stood revedled before the soldiers and their officers. bAL / AKLAVER JSMaRe ov DR YMpKin RUFF 0338 N TRNRRRNNRG The soldi -s knew bet er than did little Douglzs what chances war may bring; of fevers; of deadly bullets that g0 right through one's body; f shriek- ing bombs tha spread death and de- struction over the bloody field of bat- tle; of sharp swords that crashthrough flesh and bone; of the cruel trampling of horses over the wounded and dying; of all the dreadful happenings of real battles, and they would not have this child go with them. Before the colonel he ‘was brought for gquestioning. He said that he wanted to go with- the troops a d tkat he hought he could be of service by - ning errands upon the battle fields From stem to stern and from deck to rigging rose a cheer as the story spread. . Soldiers eyes, which were dim at the thoug® of hc ues and friends o be left behind, brightened. The ch -r was taken up on all sides. For the time the lad was a hero. He was: the youngest recruit offered to Uncle Sam—but he was too young. Re- luctantly he was forced to leave the ship. N w that ‘e knows that war is terrible he will remain at home. He thinks that a newspaper man told that he was on board. —_— MANUEL DOSTE, 11 years old, livel with his paria‘s at Hast Tampa. He burned with patric ism and would not rest wutil he had been fitted out with a minia- ture suit of canvas, such as the Cu- bans about him wore. - His parents are Cubans and patriots. The lad begged to be allowed to go to Cuba upon a (United States transport with a party of Cubans who ‘were about to make a night vovage.. W. J. Taylor tells the story in the Kansas City World: “As he stood on the Port Tampa dock in line with his larger and older com- rades, his little black eyes sparkled with pride and excitement. He had his haversack on just as the big sol- diers had, and he was able to carry the Sp)ringfield rifle that he held at his side. Sturdy and strong in cour- age, he waited patiently until the com- pany to which he belonged got orders to march on the boat. Not a moment did he waver when the order came, but with military mien he shouldered his gun and swung with the line as it mounted the gangplank. “Doste was a stopping place for many glances and looks of admiration, and he felt proud of the attention he attracted. - I, with several other ne paper correspondents, edged my ay through the crowd that surrounded him while he was on the deck. The lod talks Spanish fluently, of course, and can get along fairly well with English. To a question he said: “Yes, sir, 1 am going to fight.’ “But aren’t you afraid you will be killed 7" “No, % “But you cannot hold that 2un up to shoot.” “No,but I can lay it onsomething and pull the trigger. Yes, it might kick. but if it does I don't care. ~When I get over there I will get a little .gun, such as the men on horses carry. I can shoot that standing up.” BY MARGARET VAN CLEVE, SACRAMENTO. The sun was shining bright and clear, And pleasant voices sounded near; Hard by the little cottage wall Towered a willow, graceful, tall. Once I sat by the clear brook's side And listened to the murmuring tide; 1 heard sweet voices loud and clear, Full of glad life and merry cheer. And once again, when all was still, T heard those voices on the hill; But shall I hear those voices more? Far, far is childhood’s happy shore. g e e Nellie, aged three, was out walking with her father one evening, but she soon became tired and he was obliged to carry her. ‘Is I vewy heavy, papa?”’ she asked, as he set her down a mo- ment to rest. ‘“Indeed, you are,” he re- plied. ‘‘Say, papa,” continued the little miss, “isn’'t you dest awful tickled at I ain’t twin BRI LITTLE. GOLD SEEKERS. BY MAGGIE R. KOTTINGER, SAN JOSE. Let's play be miners, sister, And go and search for gold, Away up north in Klondike, ‘Where all is white and cold. ‘We must safl the big blue ocea In a steamer called the ‘‘Brave;” And then we'll have a ship-wreck But all the lives we'll save. T'll be the captain, sister, And you the first mate true; And this field of wild flag-lilies Will be the waters blue. Oyer yonder, where those clovers - That little knoll have hidden, Will be a dang'rous island On whose rocky shores we've ridden. After days and days of sailing We'll reach Alaska’s land, Andwe'll leave our storm-tossed vessel On Alaska's shore to stand. This patch of wlhite forget-me-nots Will be great fields of snow, Where slowly, with our sled and dogs, Over narrow trails we'll go. At last we'll reach the river, Near where the gold is found; And, when we go to mining, Snowless will oe the ground. Then see, here are the gold fields! . _These_yellow poppies bright! When the snow was on the ground This gold was out of sight. Now we'll pick golden nuggets, All that our arms can carry, And travel home with treasure For mama and boy Harry, N \ \\ ‘.‘\\&E iy ) ) NELLIE'S IDEAS ABOUT THE WAR. SAW the girls march on Memorial day in San Francisco. They kept time to the music of the band and looked cute. My sister May says she would be afraid to march that way for fear a horse would step on her, but she is a little thing, and that is why she scares so. But she has a doll she calls Cclumbia, and it wears a red, white and blue dress that mamma made for it. May says it would be the most fun to be a general and ride on a horse. Are all the men who were on the horses generals? I saw one whole company of men who were riding and they all had sharp swords. Were they all gen- erals? I thought soldiers were always firing guns, but I must be mistaken, because mamma says they have to stop to eat and of course they don’t fire guns when they are asleep, because they might wake themselves up if they did, and then they would be tired all the time. I am 12 years old. I read all about the war in the papers, but don’t under- stand much what is happening. But I'll tell you what I'd do: If the Span- ish are really bottled up, as the news- papers say they are, I'd open up the bottles and give them some fresh air, for it must be dreadful to live in bot- tles where the weather is as hot as it is in Cuba. But how did the Spaniards get in he bottles? They must be big bottles I wish you would tell me whether the soldiers really eat hardtack that is s0 hard they have to break it up with 25 AND THe BEAR | SokeD HAPPY’ a pickax, ag the Bumpkins in Camp Hardtack do? Perhaps it is soft when they soak it. If it isn't it would make good bullets. My papa used to be a soldier, and what I ask him makes him laugh. Now, are my questions funny, or what is the matter? He told me to write and ask, and sc I have, NELLIE HARGOOD. et e Little Mabel was visiting in the coun- try and saw some. little pigs for the first time. What attracted her atten- tion most was the twist in their tails, and after looking at them in wonder for quite a while she asked: “Say, grandpa, does the piggies’ mamma put their tails up in curl papers every night?” LITTLE SOLDIER AND THE GEESE I've got a brand new uniform, e got a flag and drum; I'm looking up and down the road For Spaniard men to come. I've got a sword and pistol, too; T've got & horse to ride; And when those Spaniard men see me T bet they'll run and hide. But I will chase and capture them Wherever they may go, And T will bravely march them home, All marching in a row. And I'll take every sword they've got, And T'll take every gun, And after that I'll send them home, And then the war'll be done. Hello! What's that? T hear a nolse And see a dreadful sight— About a thousand Spaniard men, In uniforms of white! Oh, dear! they're coming right this way, I'don’t know what to do! I'm going right stralght home to ma! Oh, dear! Oh! Oh! Boo-hoo! ew York Herald. AR SPIRIT OF THE YOUTH. HERE is a company of small boys who parade near the water front in this city whenever they get a chance, out of school. They carry wooden guns and have something around them like cartridge belts. Haif a dozen drummers furnish the music for them to march by. Crowds near the foot of Market street, who are wait- ing for incoming regiments to march out to Camp Richmond, are frequent- ly aroused by these boys, who “rall round the flag” with ®spirit. l‘hfi Clancey is the captain and Martin Nu- nan is the standard bearer. When the Civil War between the North and the South was in progress there were thousands of boy soldier companies in the United States. Some of the uniforms w very pretty, There were suits such as the old Con- tinental troops, the soidiers of the Rev- olutionary War, were dressed in—three cornered hats, knee breeches, etc. Then there were Zouaves, with blue jackets, red, baggy trousers and turban-like caps. Small boys reveled in joint pro- cession of brass cannons, which made considerable noise. Boy soldier. com- panies may once more become as pop- ular as they were in the early sixties. Y