The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 10, 1898, Page 31

THE SAN. FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JULY 10, 1898. . 31 EDITED - ‘BY DAVID AWALKER oH qur',qG“] DAY WE hAp . T THE VERY GOOD BOY WITH VERY BAD FIT By- MRS. H. HAT a lovely boy Tommy £f Stiles is!” "That is what his uncle and aunt said, and he was—sometimes. His sister Sadie hit the mark squarely when she said “Tom would be the best boy in the world If he didn’t have fits”—not that kind when the doctor, and hot water and nasty medicine are neces- BAr the kind almost as bad for h'- family to bear; fits of bad temper. Sometimes he got out the wrong side of the bed, and then his fit lasted all F sometimes he couldn’t have just what he wanted the very minute he wanted it and then his fit came on suddenl like a flash of lightning. Slam-bang! went the doors; over went t s, and the first thing near at apt to fly through the air at laughed. I never her even when she ed. 1 consider it mean 1 to laugh at a boy in a fit. e time Tommy was and merry. ards in front of his was river, the waters of h were forever hurrying on and 4 they seemed to say when Tom, are feet and trousers rolled up to es, would wade and splash How I would like to stop and th you, littl oy, but you can’t how much work I have to do nor what a I lies before me.” river there grew a Im tree which “kept its feet ater all the time,” so Tommy which meant that some of the stretched into the river, quite ¢, 0f #oll, a source of endless won: and pleasure to the little s. Here, in the long bright sumn rff;:({% when the water was warm and shop S. J. BRECK. Tom was beside himself. He kicked and plunged about in a way dreadful to see. “I wish I was dead. I do. I do. I hate everybody,” he cried. ‘“Me, too, Tommy Littlemouse?” laughed Sadie, who unfortunately came into the room that instant. Most of all!” screamed the y as he rushed out of doors. Five, ten, fifteen minutes—a whole half-hour passed and Tom did not come in. They called and called, but there was no answer. It grew dark. They searched the house, the barn, the grounds. The other boys came back from the dug-road. He had not gone there. No neighbor had seen him, and all the time the water was rising higher and higher; the o. inous roar filled the whole valley; lanterns went bobbing about in all directions, people who lived very near the river were removing their household goods to upper stories, driving their livestock upon the hills and even going themselves. Poor Nellie and Sadie, with the old nurse and Jim, the hired man, were afraid of the coming flood, too, and did what they could to prepare for it; but they dared not leave the house, lest the lost boy should come back and find a deserted home. I think their grief and anxiety for Tom was far greater than their fear of the flood. What a terrib.c night it was! And, to make matters worse, the river d>m broke and all those pent-up waters came rushing, surging, tearing down the valley as if they meant to sweep everything away. All the poorly built houses and barns tumbled down and floated off. The Stiles house had a foundation in the rock and didn’t budge an inch, but the water came almost to the second story. little ba ©©0000000000000000000000000000000OO0 HE The Not Her eyes of blue, like lofty lake: it is her figure as a nymph adder seem the sunlit The water now she enters in The love But, hark! She shri Oh, wicked crab! little maid of Santa Cruz waves ' s 000000000000060O0 0000000000000 0O0O0000000000O000000000O0 low, the children loved to play; and when tired of sailing boats or catching minnows, th climbed up the steps cut in its hollow trunk to a wonderful nest they had built among the branches and listened to the hum-hum of the saw- mill on the opposite side of the river, or watched the men up abové the dam guide the logs into the mill race. One time, early in spring, Mr. and Mrs. Stiles were called away from home. Tommy had a bad cold. “Nellie,” said the mother when she kissed the children good by, take good care of Tom, don’t let him.get sick, and, Tommy, boy, see that you mind sister.” Of course they both promised. shall see what happened. The very night the father and mother We left a warm rain set in. The snow melted rapidly, and in four days the river was booming... All sorts of things went floating down the stream. A few more dnches of ri and the banks would be overflowed—the flood would be upon them. Toward night Tom came rushing into the house. “Nellig,” he cried, “I am going down to the dug-road. They say the mill dam has broken and all the logs are going pell-mell. It's great.” “But you can’t go, Tom. It's late and cold. It's almost dark.” That very minute Tom had a fit. “I will go; I will go. Mother would let me. It's mean to make me stay. I will go,” he shrieked “Then I shall tell your father.” SOME OF THE STRANGE HE Bumpkins have gone to the ar Philippines, ’Mid the dusky natives you'll find ‘em. Their crazy skyrocket Broke off at the sprocket, And left their poor old cow behind ’em; But the old cow will get to them, later or soon, For a cow once, you know, jumped over the moon. too LITTLE SANTA CRUZ MAID. sky is fair; the water smooth; the air is soft and bland. ten years old, this little elf, yet she my heart has won, She dances like a fay; : her laugh rings far and wide; est one she is of all who frolic with the tide. Her little heart will burst with sudden woe! How could you dare to bite her wee pink toe? is dancing on the sand. reflecting only sun! than she, in artless play. 00000000000 000O0 o Can you imagine what anguish Nellie and Sadie felt? And how it seemed to them that the morning would never, never come? But come it did, and dreadful the desolation it showed. Where was Tom? No, indeed, he was not drowned! Do you remember the nest in the elm tree? There was where he went when he ran out of the house. He meant to stay until he thoroughly frightened his sisters and made them sorry for boing so mean to him. He didn’t intend to stay quite so long as he did. Poor lit- tle Tom! He will never forget that night if he lives fifty years. THE GIANT AND THE PIGS. BY CARL R. JOHNSTON, Visalia. Once there was an old mother pig and she lived in a farmyard, and there were only three little pigs in the farm- PERSONS AND PLEASUREé HEY'LL hunt neath the shade of the bulli-boo tree With the natives—who have bows and arrows, Where reigns King Tow- Loo-Gum, In whose funny king-dom Mosquitoes are larger than sparrows! And they’ll shoot at the funniest things there alive That have tails, so they tell me, as many as five. was yard. They lived there, and one little pig was a bad one. He was named Browney. He wanted to roll in the mud all the time, and his mother told him he’d be sorry some day that he did not mind her. But he’d find the biggest mud puddle in the farmyard and roll in it and get as dirty as the puddle itself. He'd get some water in his eyes and come squealing to his mother, and his mother would just let him alone. Then he’'d to the dairymaid and she’d wash im off.. Then he came back to his mother and was happy again. But his mother used to scold him. One day the mother pig sald: have to go to town to-day and leave you about a month.” She asked them what kind of a house they’'d like. Browney said he'd like a log house. So his mother built him a log house with a chimney in it and a table and a box of cabbage and a mud puddle to roll in and a chair. Then she asked Whitey what kind of a house he wanted. He said a board house. So he got a house with an iron stove in it and a table, two chairs and a big box of cabbage. Both of these pigs liked cabbage. There was a win- dow and a door, of course. The name of the last pig was Black- ey. He said he wanted a three-story brick house to keep boarders in. There were seven rooms in it. There was a table in the dining room and seven chairs. He had knives. forks and spoons, a stove and a fireplace. His mother had left seven little pigs when she went to town, and he had to stay and take care of them; they were to be his boarders. He was to take care of them till his mother came back. There was a table, a chair and a bed in every room. He had a table and a stove and everything that a Kkitchen needs. He had a great big box full of meat and things to eat, and he cooked eggs and things for his boarders. His mother goes to market now. She ‘was sold to another farmer. Now there was a glant near that town who lived way up in the moun- tains. And he had his cave there. When the giant heard about those three pigs he came down and got Browney's house, with Browney in it. He teok the house with FErowney in it and threw it down into his cave. Then he came and got Whitey. Then he came down to get Blackey's house, but the giant was not as tall as the house. He knocked at the door and Blackey said: “I know who you are. You're the ugly giant who stole my brothers. This made the giant mad. He sz a window and thought he could =et into it. He went home and came back, but Blackey had a big pot of boiling hot water. The giant was sure to get Blackey, too. So he climbed in the window and tumbled into the pot of boiling water and scalded himself. Piggy put him on the stove to cook. Then piggy took & long rope and pulled up the houses of his two brothers from the giant’s cave, put them on wheels and rolled them back to where they were before. Then he invited them to dinner to eat the giant up. There were the ten all together, and they lived happily till their mother came back. - LITTLE PETE'S TROUBLE. BY B. EVELYN STOUT. Pete was a little negro boy, about 11 years old. He lived with his “mam- my.” But he had neither brother nor sister to play with, so he did not have as nice a time as some other boys of his age. Some of the boys shunned his company. One day there was to be a picnic and Pete wished to go very much. Mammy had just one nickel to spare, and Pete was delighted. While THE BUMPKINS EXPECT H, fun it will be, ere the mon- goose awake To catch snakes a half mile long— truly! And carve them with sabers, As part of their labors— And the Bumpkins will do that act coolly. Those droll monster serpents who live in the wood, Who, until they are shortened, will never be good! he was standing by a candy stand he saw some peppermint sticks and he bought some at once. Pete was a good hearted little fellow, so he of- fered to divide it with two or three boys who were standing against a tree, but they refused to touch it. Pete walked away. “Say,” sald Sam Jones, ‘I've got some money and I'll treat.” He reached in his pocket for the money, but it was gone. “I'll bet it was that rete who stole it,” said Sam, angrily, and the other boys agreed. After that the boys would not look at Pete, and when Pete learned the rea- son he was very much insulted and declared that his ‘“mammy nebber ’lowed him to steal.” One day Sam was standing under the very tree that had sheltered him the day of the pienic. He saw something shining at ‘his feet. He stooped and picked it up and found it to be a two- bit plece. He knew at once that it was the one he had supposed Pete had stolen. Sam was very much ashamed of himself, and told the other boys about it. And by and by Pete found a place among his schoolmates again. . THE VERY BAD BOY WHO ONCE RAN AWAY By MRS. W. F. PERRY. LLEN TALCOT was a bad boy, or if he was not, circumstances were a; ainst him. ‘While playing in the street his ball flew straight into Deacon Tucker's window, breaking it pieces, His father said “if he did that trick again, he'd tan him well!” into chased with stolen money, but he had launched in Tommy’s boat, and there seemed no other way. “We've got enough left for supper,” said Tommy, as they hurried on. As evening approached they trudging out up the beach. ‘“Jerusalem!” said Tommy, “but I'm tired, and hungry agin, too. I believe I came “O-ouch! Git out! Kick! Stamp! Yell, Allen, an’ help me drive ‘em back. “Tommy,” said ~ Allen, we must pray!” “I'm; too bad,” said Tommy. “It wouldn’t do no good.” “You must ask the Lord to forgive you.” “I'm agreeable. this! Scat! Scat!” “Well, ask him then,” sald Allen. “Lord won't you forgive a feller fur Drat ye—git out uv feel proud and to talk about how nice and white he was and how untidy the other potatoes were. The cook put the potato into a pot and poured witer over it. The potato now thought that it was a very rainy climate. Soon the water began to boil and poor Mr. Potato cried out: “Let me out!" Oh, please let me out! But it was too late now, and the wa- ter boiled on. So you see that was what he got for being proud and vain. Again the waron stopped. Again the 0000000000 0COLOO0000D0O000000D0D0000D0D0000O0DO 1 couldn’t change her name. But, oh! “She helped blow up the Maine,” 000000000000 00O0O0O0 A TRAGEDY OF THE FOURTH T was a dreadful tragedy, dated Fourth of July; If I can now hold back my tears, to tell of it I'll try. I had a lovely Spanish doll; Mercedes was her name. You see she had that when she came. My dreadful brother said she was a Spanish spy; And when I wasn’t looking he poked powder in her eye: And then he lit an awful fuse—the other boy: And, with a bang, off came her head. O Her up and with the, Stars and Stripes she’s buried in the ground. He says he'll buy a 'Merican' doll; Why wasn’t Mercedes 'Merican born? Boo hoo! boo hoo! boo hoo! were there— I must cry, so there! he said. But with a flag he wound and that T know he’il do. 0000000000000 0000O0 000000000000000000000000000000000OO00 stealin'—jist this onct—Shoo! Shoo! Sl.oo! “That's not the way,” corrected Al- len. “You must say—" " “Git out of that! Bah! Scat!” cried Tommy, pounding his heels against the side of the box. “Say, Allen, yer hed better do the prayin’ an’ let me keep off the rats, elst we won't never git to tell the Lord what we wants of him.” “Folks must have faith when they pray. Do you believe, Tommy, that we shall be saved?” “Y-e-s, 'specially if I ken keep off these rats, am’ the water don’'t come up an’ drownd us afore it gits light. Scat! Shoo! Rub-a-dub-dub! How- de-dow-dow! Git out of this, blast el ‘When morning came the water had touched the box and soon would have covered it. The boys clamberéd out on the top and saw how near they had been to death. AN We MA KuM BACK 1w 2tile, ALL DOE HERE IS A QUEER LETTER FROM THE SKYROCKETED BUMPKINS. AN PFIN2RY. — dinep —ALL pe BoMPKing. He had steppred on his sister’s thim- ble, crushing it flat, and she said “he never came within a r ile of anything without destroying it.” He fell down on a ston: pavement, striking upon his knees and cutting a big rent in a brand-new pair of pants. It hurt him, too, but his mother sald TO ENCOUNTER IN PHIE- ND each Bumpkin will learn there the boomerang to throw, The boomerang surprising and stinging, While®King Tow-Loo slum- bers To musical numbers Of the Bumpkins' gay donkey a-sing- ing, “Ooh-aak! Ooo-aak!” What a beauti- ful tune; Liked best by the funny old man in the moon! [ | | | “that served him right, for being such a careless boy and causing her so much trouble in merding up his clothes.” Evidently he was of no account to any one. He could not carry so much trouble alone. 9 he cc.fided it to Tommy Haleren, the drayman’s son. He found a sympathetic listener, for Tommy had his woes as well. “No, sir!” Temmy said, “they don't want' nothin’ more to do with yer, no mor'n d, my folks with me. My old man, he walloped me like blazes be- cause he said I'd lost the spade, 'nd then he found it where he'd throw’d it down his self.” “Who's your old man?” asked Allen. “Well, Softy! Don’'t yer know? It's dad.” “Oh!” said Allen. “Thur's only one thing fur us to do,” asserted Tommy. “What is that?” “Let us run away!"” “Where ‘'shall we go?” asked Allen. “0 any wher’s!. Et’s bétter'n stayin’ around where we ain’t wanted.” A few days later two - boys were traced to the Oakland ferry; there their anxious friends could gain no further clew to them. Tommy and Allen hurried through the crowded streets of San Francisco, wi no idea of where they were going. 3 “Let’s eat,” suggested Tommy, draw- ing a silver dollar from his pocket. “What a lot of money! Where did you get 1t?"” asked Allen. “Oh, 1 nibbed it from my old man!” “You mean that you stole it from your father?” asked Allen, looking grave. “0, g’long—that an’t stealn'!—any- how, you an't got no cause ter growl. You'd git mighty hungry, well ez me, ef T hadn’t took it.” . So Tommy bought a bag of crackers. Allen shrank from eating food pur- could eat a whale,” He' spread out a solled and crumpled pocket handkerchief and placed the cakes upon it. Just then a tramp came crawling up out of the sand. “Aha—dining on cake!” he said. “It's been many a day since I've dined on cake.” Snatching up the handker- chief and its contents he crammed them into his pocket. “Such fine young men, with so much cake, ought to have a nickel left to go with it.” He caught Allen by the arm, but Tommy dealt him such vigorous kicks and blows that he dropped Allen and ran for Tom. Allen started for the nearest ‘house,” shouting for help, but the tramp having the longest legs, soon caught Tommy, took his money from him and ran away. “What are we going to do now?” asked Allen. “We've got ter find a place ter sleep IPPINE LAND, REACHED HEN Dewey has conquered the country for sure, The natives will be Yankee voters. There'll be “push” and be “pull” In that country of wool, Turkish baths and e-lec-tri-cal motors! Old Tow-Loo-Ggum's wives will each have a long dress, And Tow-Loo himself will then run for Congress! in,” answered Tommy. The place they found was in an old discarded sewer box. The bed was not soft, nor the odors sweet, but Tommy said: “It was better'n nothing’ " Tommy was soon asleep, but Allen could not rest. He felt that he was do- ing wrong, and was haunted by the distress he knew he was giving his friends at home. As the hours passed he heard such startling, creepy sounds—then—O, hor- rors! something jumped Into his face! At the same instant Tommy shrieked, “0, I'm bit! I'm bit!” Then there was a skurrying of many feet. “It's rats!” cried Tommy. “They'll eat us!” The rind of the old moon gave light enough for them to see the water all about them. “The tide’s riz,” said Tommy, “and the Lord’s goin’ ter let us be eat and drownded, 'cause I stole dad’s money.” ‘““And because we did wrong to run away,” said Allen. Then the feet came scampering up again—a whole army of them. Looking back into the dark box, they could see¢ hundreds of little gleaming eyes g “Don’t yer think.” said Tommy, “that home is the best place after all?” and Allen agreed that it was. They were obliged to beg their way back, but Allen was received with such Joy that his old sensitiveness banished, and even Tommy was surprised that he never received the ‘“lambastin” which his parents assured him he de- served. LITTLE MARY'S QUEER DREAM. BY BEATRICE PHILLIPS, San Rafael. ITTLE MARY lay fast asleep in her own little room. She dreamed there was once a potato, who met with his friend the cabbage on a vegetable wagon. “Why, how do you do, Mrs. Cab- bage!” said he. ‘“How are your hus- band and the children?” “Oh, they are well, thank you,” an- swered the Cabbage. *“How are your wife and children?” “Fine, thank you. “Have you seen Mrs. Corn to-day?” asked the cabbage. “No, 1 have not seen her since last week,” said the potato. “Oh,” said Mrs. Cabbage, “I suppose she is celebrating her birthday.” Suddenly the wagon gave a great thump. “Ha! ha! ha!” laughed both Mrs. Cabbage and Mr. Potato, as some vege- tables came rollirg down. The vegeta- ble man now v :nt to a door. He asked BY THE ROCKET EXPRESS ND the Granger may sit on a tikki-wood throne, And the Bumpkins be dooks all around him! Be dooks and be princes, And grin when he winces At flea bites that fairly astound him. They will eat with their fingers and sit on the floor, And live in a house that has never a door! the lady who came to it what she wanted this day. _ She said that she would like a sack of potatoes. And so this potato who had fallen out was put back into the sack. Now the cabbage was alone and the potato sang: “Good-by, good-by, I send my love to all.” The potatoes were taken into the house and the wagon rode on. By and by the housekeeper was told to cook one potato. She just happened to take this very one and put it in a pan. Then she took a knife and began to peel it. The potato now began to man went to a door. The lady said she would like a nice cabbc e. So Mrs. Cabbage wgs sold to the lady, who was very rich. " The cook was told to cook the cabbage, and _he at once did as she was told. The Cabbage began to feel vain, as the Potato did. For she was really very handsome; her lcaves were large and very beautiful, her stalk was strong and sweet. When she was put under the faucet and into the pot she also thought it very rainy. She enjoyed it well enough ‘n the water was cool, but when it began to boil she thought: “Alas, if I had not been so vain I would not have come to this dreadful pain.” But no one cared now, and the water boiled and boiled. And poor Mrs. Cab- bage died. {0 you see it docsn’t do to be proud and ain. Little Mary felt very sorry for Mr. Potato and Mrs. Cabbage, although she knew it was wrong to be proud and vain. But when she ~-7oke she found it was a dream, and then she was very happy Sitgelre THE WHINY CAT. BY ELLA M. SEXTON. Oh, at our home a dreadful thing Has lately come to tease us, It whines and pines, it growls and howls ‘And seldom ‘tries to please us. It snarls at Tom, it snaps at Dick, The house and folks upsetting, We're tired and nervous all the time This Whiny-cat is fretting. *Tis true we have some peace at nights But oh, the early morning! It cries and sighs, it groans and moanr Both pells and coaxing scorning; Its clothes go on with tears, a drop At every button spilling, For strange to say this Whiny-cat A sailor-suit is filling. Two legs it has, a “football-bang” Of curly hair and vellow But work it shirks with squeals, and feels Abused, the lazy fellow! Just play it nts, this Whi cat— Its other me? Don’t guess it, For I promised sure and honest nof To whisper or confess it. Dear grandma says he isn’t well. “Perhaps my slipper’d cure him,” Says papa stern, while mamma tries With patience to endure him. For, don’t you know—this Whiny-cat This creature, cross and snarling, ‘Who_whines and pines, who growls ana howls, Is still his mamma’s darling. - THE SOLDIER HAT. BY JUDITH GUSLEAN, HERE is my hat? Oh, you never know whera anything is; find it at once. I don’t know where it is. ‘Well, put on your old hat. The members of a family were going to see the soldiers arrive. 'The speak- ers were Bell Nelson and her mother. 8o off they went to the depot. When they reached the depot, Bell stood in a corner to mourn the loss of her hat. But she was aroused by cheering, and then she saw the “boys in blue.” Bell walked up and down and talked to the soldiers about war. They all spoke about “licking the old Span- jards” and “sweeping them off the earth.” Some gave her buttons, but her most precious gift was a soldier hat. She did not wear it, but put it away with her treasures. She found her other hat and now is very happy. b S THE LETTER BABY WROTE BY R. W. RIGGS, Fresno. The letter my baby wrote to me Is enough to make an angel smile. It's creased and crossed, Some words are lost; It keeps me guessing all the while The letter my baby wrote to me I have to spell out half the words, And the other half Make me laugh, For they look tracks of giant birds. The letter my baby wrote to me Is very precious, sweet and dear; I read it through, Then read anew, And ev'ry time it is more queer. The letter my baby wrote to me 1 gently kissed and put away Next to my heart, i1 With Cupid’'s dart, I shall keep forever and a day. st bl Little four-year-old Harry was not feeling well and his father suggested that he might be taking the chicken- pox, then prevalent. Harry went to bed laughing at the idea, but early next morning he came downstairs looking very serious, and sald: “You're right, papa; it is the chickenpox; I found a feather in the bed.” IN THEIR SKY VOYAGE. UT, if Congressman Tow-Loo should put them in pot, And stew them all up for his din- ner! The cowboy and dude; The rest—in a flood L Of soup cooked for an ebony sinner! No more their proceedings your hours would vary; They'd be picked just as clean as the last mis-sion-a-ry!