The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 9, 1898, Page 31

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, OCTOBER 9, 1898. 31 9FA) ) TRAVELS OF MARTIN THARE BY ALMA S. BEMENDERFER ANGELS CAMP ARTIN THARE longed to travel and see the world, and, above all, to have the adv tures bound to be encounte He had read books by travelers and lay and ¢ me when fortune wou Oakwood was a village far he told him not to ¢ got the better. te you have Being a ma- the duty of »u, and not till 1any adventures ill it be re- touched Ma In an in- tin with stant, fror into a comr p the side of a hrough an open the ading. The ut. whereupon, “Stop that; a rule it sal in a shrill don’t kill he jumped back Could it be a r ake? No; that mouse could certainly talk. e thoughts flashed thr h his mind. Yes, some one had taugt d it, and there It was. W a grand and astounding discovery. He would capture the ro- dent. Having no trap, he was forced to make a pape rnucopia and place it in a corner But the mc v departed by the same entrs crawling along a narrow 1l ked in at another window 1 and slipped into a boc udent noticed him. Once had ample time to think came over enly a mous understand ought to be d made! Quickly gna ary he hid th search was made, the mouse was in he w alk and What to t. e in a diction- when a cted that Y, car- ried out by Earl Brown , on open- ing it, was surprised to see one jump nimbly out and climb down to the street below. But here Martin was chased by a dog, and to save his life squeezed into a pipe, and running along through it some distance came to the railroad and got into a baggage car. Here another difficulty confronted him. He wished to travel first cla: So he managed to slip into a passenger car and was surprised at the people there. They were all bound on a long journey. L tening he learned they were a par bound for the Klondike. A mighty a came to him. Why not go, too? ng a mouse, was that a practical son why he should not travel and w 1? To pay no fare; just mself and see the beauties of He resolved to go and at once began to look at the people, trying to select gome honest, shrewd looking .person with a satche finding this difficult. He finally decided to travel in the car and take his chances. He managed to get enough to eat, and while hunting ot \ P ot into satchels. pretty close esti- At last, after - reached San Fran- aska, being carried in a pack by a ho, though complain- never dreamed his around someti Thereby he ma mate of the season in the eturned home as o the same pa 3 »d the task the ma- had put upon him, and suddenly old us bo shape of a teasing, WHAT ELSIE WAS TAUGHT varm autumn afternoon ite had gone away, lesson! s mother knew her little girl sliked very much to study, and this evening, when she had been called away to see a sick friend, her last words to Elsie had been for her to study her lessons well in her absence. Elsle had promised she would, but she was not quite old enough to know what a wrong thing it was to break one's word, and no sooner had her mother gotten out of sight than she called King, the large ghepherd dog, and hurried down to the orchard, where the rosy-cheeked apples grew Eilsie had lived in the country every summer of her life, and was well ac- quainted with climbing trees. She now went to the top of a large apple tree, and pick the best of the luscious fruit there. e spied a bright-winged but- terfly, and as soon her tiny feet reached the ground she began chas it, but, failing to catch it, she King, and they had a race to the mill- pond and back ain to the orchard; then s at down to rest. She had not meant to sper 1 the evening in play, but thought she could en, herself, then have time for her le her mothe arrival; but soon her curly head began to bob, and Elsie for- got her untouched books. At first there appeared a small fairy, with a huge book open before her, from which she was studying diligently; then another and another, until there seemed to Elsie to be a thousand of these small creatures, each with her book open, and all seemed to be sa “Work first, then comes play,” ov over again, until Elsle thought she would never forget the words. Then she heard a tinkling of a bell. The fairies seemed to hear it also, for in an instant all the books were laid carefully aside and each fairy stood in line, with arms folded behind her. Then a lovely fairy queen appeared, with a diamond crown upon her head. She raised her wand and touched each fairy, and her plain clothes fell off, and each stood there arrayed in a lovely white dress and bright star on her head. Then came sounds of soft, sweet music, and they all began danc- ing and singing, ‘‘Work first, then play.” Then the fairy queen arose to make a speech, but Elsie never heard what she said, for she felt some one shaking her arm, and on opening her ves she saw her mother, scared and nervous, bending over her. “I am so glad to find you, Elsle. I thought sure you had got lost.” Elsie then told her mother of her dream and untouched books. Her mother kissed her and said, I am glad vou had that dream. It has taught you always to work first, then play.” y said Elsie, “but, mamma, I h 1 had not woke me until I heard what the fairy queen said.” S WHERE THEY FOUND PUSS BY ETHEL H. WYSHAM. to the ¢ 'l was plainly in no hearing distance of Mary's voice. “Oh, Jane! Have you seen Snowball? My de.r little pussy,” sald Mary. “Not 1, miss,” sald Jane. “The last I saw of her you were feeding her your- self in the kitchen. After you left her puss went out of the door and has neither been seen nor heard of since.” “She might have strayed away from home and rot b-en able to find her way RIDE A GREE2ED WHIRL Vi W THE FILIPINOS BRING OUT THE BIGGEST BIRDS THEY‘HA'\’I”E\T IN 'FHE!R"QOUB?}'RY AND THE BUMPKINS GIVE ‘i‘“ EXHIBITION OF BAREBACK ‘‘WHIRLWIND" RIDING. / P /{/ . N\ 77\',\15. EOITED z back,” said Mary. “I must go look for her.” And taking her hat from the peg she went out of the door. She searched through the barn, the stable, the orchards and the cowhouse. She even peeped into th: brook, to see if Snow- ball cpuld possibly have fallen in and been drowned, but all her search was fruitless—no Snowball could she find. Mary was very sorry to lose her pet cat. Snowball was a present from her aunt, and Mary had had her ever since she was a kitten. Mary called her Snowball because she was so white, and Snowball was very fond of her little mistress and would follow her every- where she went. Almost a week had passed and Mary had given up all hopes DAVID K- WAL BY” well; and the lady got the cat and showed it to Mary. “Oh, Snowball! Snowball! Have I really found you w#gain?” sald Mary, in delight. For, sure enough, it was Snow- ball. Snowball seemed just as glad to be found as Mary was to find her, for she rubbed her head against Mary and purred the sweetest song she knew, Mary was very glad to have found her pet cat again and she went home a very happy little girl i LITTLE JOKERS. Fannie, aged 5, was visiting in the country, and, seeing a lot of sheep and LITTLE A HER RNA AND SELFISHNESS BY ESTELLE BAKER. RNA never believed in fairies. She thought it was a silly bellef— that fairies lived and ate, drank, slept, danced, spoke and sang, as 1 the pictures in the story books showed them to be doing. Arna was 10 years old last March, and was in the fifth grade, although she Is now promoted into the sixth. She is a very pretty little girl, with dark eyes and brown curls that glistened like gold under the rays of the sun; long golden eyelashes and cream-and- peaches ccmplexion. Mamma's only child, she had been spoiled and in- dulged, until, as one of her little school- mates remarked, ‘“Arna Whitley would be awfully nice if she wasn't 80 stuck up and selfish.” That was just the trouble with Arna—she was so selfish that she made about as many enemies as she did friends. Arna always learned her lessons well. There was not another girl in the class like Arna ‘Whitley that could get a ‘‘perfect” paper in the arithmetic examination. And no one could beat her in grammar and spell- ing. She always carried home a report card with “excellent” or ‘perfect” in scholarship and ‘“perfect” in deport- ment. She would not whisper or turn around, and one time when the teacher stepped out into the hall for a few minutes and the boys and girls took advantage of her absence to have a ““good time’ Arna was a model pupil, never turning around or even raising her eyes from her book. I am inclined, however, to believe that she did this not for the principle of the thing but for the name and honor and praise forthcoming. Of course she naturally became the teacher’s pet. For all this Arna was, selfish and proud. Although she shared her candy and gum with the rest of the girls and lent them a pencil or her slate sponge, she never puts herself out for them, and made no effort to assist others or to make others really happy. One - hot summer day at noontime, when Arma was eating her lunch out in the shadiest part of the school yard, a little girl came up crying, with two others leading her. She was a mite of a thing, with big misty blue eyes, filled with tears. The larger girls The little child’s lips trembled and she cried still harder. ‘I want some- thing to eat,” and she glanced at Arna’s basket and its tempting con- tents. Arna felt an inclination to give her something, but the evil voice whis- ered again into her ear: “You are tired from your school work and you need it more than she does. Don't you give her any. She can go to her home and get all she wants.” “No,” repeated Arna, “some one else must take her,” and she hugged her lunch basket tighter than ever. That night a fairy came to see Arna, who was at first sound asleep, but, be- ing a light sleeper, the sound of the steps of the fairy awoke her, and she instantly rose on her elbow to see who it was. To her surprise it seemed to be morning. The sun vainly tried to pierce through the shutters, and through the open door she heard the sizzling of meat frying and the singing of the teakettle in the kitchen. It was plaih that she was late for breakfast that morning. She jumped out of bed to dress herself. Suddenly a beautiful fairy stood before her. She was quite tall and slender. Her eyes were black and pier-ing. She wore a long, loose dress with short sleeves and high neck, made of some brown and silk stuff, caught at the waist with a girdle—but had no wings on her shoulders. ‘“Who are you?"’ asked the surprised Arna, as she curiously, half-admiring- 1y, half-fearfully scanned her visitor. “I am Selfishness,” replied the fairy, “gnd I am to be your companion for the present.” Her voice was low, but clear and convincing. “I am told you are much like me, and so I am going to stay with you; go with you wherever you go and see and hear, feel and know all that you do.” “Why, how funny,” cried Arna, “and what is mamma going to do?” “I am going to take your mother’s place while she is away. She will be back in a week or so.” Arna said noth- ing, but continued to dress herself in great haste. “Is it late?” she asked. “Yes, about a quarter to nine,” re- plied Selfishness. “Oh, my!” cried Arna, “isn’t it late!” [ Three =S. Wigp,: E%len fio, Gl a0 el €0 Sofr KOey g0 * lalo, ot Elean o Kl 5 Qngs O PEARL LULLABY. EB of silver. web of gold. Lulla-by mists of the sea. Rest thou. in each shining fold: Sunlight come. O come. And rock in this cradle with me. S Sway gently winds of the lea; N ZIh 4;",3}%;« of silyer. strands of gold. = Heart of mist thy glory unfold, And dreamily. dreamily. Rock in this cradle with me. Web of silver. web of gold. + A wondrous pearl I see, Of sun and mist 2 gift wntold, So fair. so fair, It rocks in this cradle with me. Strands of silver. strands of gold. For_the gods alone. shall be; Only And silently this gleaming pear} I hold, silently. Bear into dreamland with me. e € Wi o ke To Childhood. prayes s MO e o ot e ot FolLanie 82 [\ ower LA ‘:\\\\ s 10 "Op Pe 55 ever Sing, " iy win lioy, i fasy they, il g0 ‘I:JL Laching it lec?- | e 1087 “{rom WOE (L ings ‘\‘m‘(fl"“w e would w© o of ever finding Snowball again, when one day her mother took her to see a lady named Mrs. Hopewell. Mrs. Hope- well lived some miles distant and Mary and her mother went in the little spring carriage. The horses who drew the carriage were called Bess and Dick, and as they were very gentle Mary was allowed to drive them, which was a thing she liked very much to do. In the course of the conversation with Mrs. Hopewell the subject of cats came up. Mrs. Hopewell said that about a week ago a forlorn, muddy little white cat had come to her house and she had taken it in and kept it ever since. “Oh,” said Mary, quickly, “it must be my Snowball! Will you please show it to me, Mrs. Hopewell?” “Certainly, my dear,” said Mrs. Hope- At o \‘.\ v -«, Bl oY DF Deu) PP T IRY 47, v';;“ GuIWED omy THRE lambs for the first time, she exclaimed: “Oh, mamma, just look at the cute lit- tle lambs, and they're such good imi- tations, too. They squeak just like my toy lamb and have the same kind of hair on.” “Oh, papa!” exclaimed little four- year-old Ned, “look what a bright star!” “Yes,” replied the father, “‘and it is several times as large as our earth.” “Oh, no, it isn’t,” said Ned, “because if it was, it would keep the rain off.” “I want to ask a question, papa,” re- marked Sammy Snaggs. “Very well, Sammy. remember.” “When the Americans shell a Spanish army do they eat the colonels?” f8) But only one, tql ‘0‘ N e e asked Arna if she would take the little one home. The little one lived a few blocks away from Arna and Arna lived a block from school. Now, Arna had a most delicious lunch, which her mam- ma had put up for her in a cute little basket, shaped like a tin pail. “Give her some of your lunch,” whis- pered some one in her ear. “Don’t you do it. She had no busi- ness to lose her lunch,” whispered an- other voice. “Do you think you can take her?” asked Maggie, the largest of the girls, “Don't you do any such thing. Let some one else do it” persisted the last volice., “Indeed, I will not,” snapped Arna, tossing her curls away from her fore- head. “I cannot be bothered with her. Let son.e one else take her.” i g {/ and she buttoned her shoes in great haste. “You will find your breakfast there cooked for you,” said the visitor, “your father cooked it for you.” “My father cooked it for me!” cried Arna. ““Yes, your father, of course,” replied the visitor, pettishly. “You surely don’t expect me to do your work for you.” “You said you would take mamma’s place,” said Arna, “and papa shall not do our work.” “Then why don’t you?" asked Selfish- ness, with a curious sweetness in her voice. “'Tisn’t my work,” snapped Arna. Instantly the light flashed in the eyes of Selfishness and her voice grew hoarse and harsh. “I shall not do it, either,” she replied. . HAVE VEW SE R R T > out’ Arna was now eating her breakfast, or rather, gobbling it down as fast ns she could, for she was in vanger of be- ing late, “‘Selfishness, get my hat,” she said. But Selfishness wouldn’t stir. “Selfishness, are you not mean?” and the face of the visitor grew angry. “I will not get your hat; you can get it yourself.” And Arna had to run into the nall and get her hat herself. “I wish you would tie up my shoe- lacing and fix the back of my dress. It's all thready.” Selfishness merely turned up her nose and refused to do any of these things. “Won't you get my lunch basker, then?” she asked? “And my spellar and mental arithmetic there on the sitting room table. Please get them, too.” “I won't, either. Do it yourself. I'm not your servant,” replied Selfishness with peculiar hauteur. So Arna had to get them herself, and went into the sitting room for them. When she came back she found Selfishness already dressed. “Where are you going?”’ Arna asked. “With you to school,” replied Selfishs ness. Then they started for school, both on the run. Arna reached school just in time to get in her line, without her teacher knowing of her tardiness. Her line was just marching in. Selfishness pushed her aside and went ahead of her. Arna's wrath was kindled. “You mean old Selfishness,” she cried, “you had no business to do that. My place is before you.” But Selushne: was fighting for another girl’s pls and while they were talking in a loud tone about it Arna was surprised to hear her teacher’s voice: “Arna Whitely, please step out of the line.” Arna was much surpri but she obeyed her teacher’s order and stepped over to a bench and sat down. The girls looked back and giggled at her discomfort. When the unes had all marched in the teacher came to Arna and said: “Arna, what made you be- have so naughtily?"” “It wasn’t I; it was Se replied Arna, hotly. “Yes, my dear, it was your own sel- fishness, and I am glad to see you ac- knowledge you're wrong.” When Arna came in her room she found the scholars all whispering, and talking about and pointing at Selfish- ness, who Lid ome in and sat down in a vacant seat, the owner of which would soon cow.e. She had taken an- other girl's book and, crossing her feet, was humming to herself. Arna went up to her and corrected her, but Sel- fishness replied that she “wasn’t doing things to suit everybody e When the teacher came in Selfishness was busy with her lesson and the teacher did not notice her. When the time came to recite Selfishness had her hand up for every question. The teach-r called Selfisl.ness Arna and did not seem to notice Arna he , al- though Arna frantically waved her hand back and fort.. trying to attract Miss Brown's attention. Even when the other girls knew their lessons Selfishness was always angry if she wasn’t calle. on to answer every single question, and when the other girls tried to dsper to her she would proudly turn away her head and say to Arna, “See what a good girl I am.” At recess the girls didn't appear to notice Arna, althour™ she passed in front of them time after time. She saw her old “toadies” were very nice to Sel- fishness' face, but, oh, how they talk- ed behind her back! When it was time to go in and all were in the schoolroom again Selfish- ness was w.rse than ever. It was gram- mar examination. Mildred Adams’ pa- per wasn’'t ruled, and the teacher, in a preat hurry, gave her a minute to rule it nicely. Now, Selfishness didn’t have hers ruled and she had taken 1 ldred’s ruler to rule it with. She had the ne- cessary ruling on, and Mildred was in despair at her blank paper. But Sel- fishness, desiring extra credits to the loss of Mildred, kept the ruler for her own use, and the teacher would not wait for the other girl, who thus lost the entire examination. At noontime, when Arna looked for her lunch that she told Selfishness to put up, she found that Selfishness had taken it. After quite a hunt she found her in a corner of the yard surrounded by all her f iends, eating her lunch. fishness,” “Where’'s my lunch?” demanded Arna. “Humph! I guess I'm not going to give you any lunch, and especially any of this, when you live only a bl Kk from school,” said Selfishness. Afternoon passed. Selfishness was as bad as ever. She wanted to read all the lessons and write down all the home work on the board, and ~lked when Miss Brown ~ave it to Lucy Forbes to When Arna reached home she found her father there. He was ill and had come home earlier than usual. He did not seem to see Arna. He called to Sel- fishness: ‘““Arna, please make me some strong coffee and toast.” Selfishness was getting ready to practice on the piano, and she scowled. “My teacher told me to learn my lesson,” she an- swered, impatiently. Arna was shocked She rushed up to her father and said “Papa, papa, I'm Arna. She's = elfishness, not Arna. I am Arna.” But her father did not seem to hear h.. and Arna cried. In a ver- un- ~racious and sulky ood Selfishness made the coffee and toast. She knew Mr. Whitley didn’t like anything but the best coffee, and that was kept on the top shelf and she felt too lazv to get up after it so she made the drink out of the family coffee. She burned the toast and then scraped the black- ened part off very poorly. She sulked all the more 1en Mr. Whitley pushed it aside and said he didn’t care to eat. Then Arna tried different tactics. She spoke gently and kindly to Selfish- ness. About sunset Selfishness came and, kneeling at Arna’s feet, begged her pardon and told her to profit by her (Selfishness’) experieace, and then—she faded like a specter, and Arna never saw her again. And Arna is now a generous little girl, and although people wonder why she is so.changed in disposition, they love her much, and she has no ene- mies, for her selfishness is --ne. NE oWER £2- DEY iz orogps X SKoor, ‘rEL‘(IlERs