After that trouble with Aunt Eliza--the time she staid up on the roof
and was rained on--I had no misfortunes for nearly a week. Aunt Eliza
went home as soon as she was well dried, and father said that he was
glad she was gone, for she talked so much all the time that he couldn't
hear himself think, though I don't believe he ever did hear himself
think. I tried it once. I sat down where it was real still, and thought
just as regular and steady as I could; but I couldn't hear the least
sound. I suppose our brains are so well oiled that they don't creak at
all when we use them. However, Mr. Travers told me of a boy he knew when
he was a boy. His name was Ananias G. Smith, and he would run round all
day without any hat on, and his hair cut very short, and the sun kept
beating on his head all day, and gradually his brains dried so that
whenever he tried to think, they would rattle and creak like a
wheelbarrow wheel when it hasn't any grease on it. Of course his parents
felt dreadfully, for he couldn't go to school without disturbing
everybody as soon as he began to think about his lessons, and he
couldn't stay home and think without keeping the baby awake.
As I was saying, there was pretty nearly a whole week that I kept out of
trouble; but it didn't last. Boys are born to fly upward like the sparks
that trouble, and yesterday I was "up to mischief again," as Sue said,
though I never had the least idea of doing any mischief. How should an
innocent boy, who might easily have been an orphan had things happened
in that way, know all about cooking and chemistry and such, I should
like to know.
It was really Sue's fault. Nothing would do but she must give a party,
and of course she must have ice-cream. Now the ice-cream that our
cake-shop man makes isn't good enough for her, so she got father to buy
an ice-cream freezer, and said she would make the ice-cream herself. I
was to help her, and she sent me to the store to order some salt. I
asked her what she wanted of salt, and she said that you couldn't freeze
ice-cream without plenty of salt, and that it was almost as necessary as
ice.
I went to the store and ordered the salt, and then had a game or two of
ball with the boys, and didn't get home till late in the afternoon.
There was Sue freezing the ice-cream, and suffering dreadfully, so she
said. She had to go and dress right away, and told me to keep turning
the ice-cream freezer, till it froze and don't run off and leave me to
do everything again you good-for-nothing boy I wonder how you can do it.
I turned that freezer for ever so long, but nothing would freeze; so I
made up my mind that it wanted more salt. I didn't want to disturb
anybody, so I quietly went into the kitchen and got the salt-cellar, and
emptied it into the ice-cream. It began to freeze right away; but I
tasted it, and it was awfully salt, so I got the jug of golden syrup and
poured about a pint into the ice-cream, and when it was done it was a
beautiful straw-color.
[Illustration: SUE'S ICE-CREAM PARTY--DRAWN BY A. B. FROST.]
But there was an awful scene when the party tried to eat that ice-cream.
Sue handed it round, and said to everybody, "This is my ice-cream, and
you must be sure to like it." The first one she gave it to was Dr.
Porter. He is dreadfully fond of ice-cream, and he smiled such a big
smile, and said he was sure it was delightful, and took a whole
spoonful. Then he jumped up as if something had bit him, and went out of
the door in two jumps, and we didn't see him again. Then three more men
tasted their ice-cream, and jumped up, and ran after the doctor, and two
girls said, "Oh my!" and held their handkerchiefs over their faces, and
turned just as pale. And then everybody else put their ice-cream down on
the table, and said thank you they guessed they wouldn't take any. The
party was regularly spoiled, and when I tasted the ice-cream I didn't
wonder. It was worse than the best kind of strong medicine.
Sue was in a dreadful state of mind, and when the party had gone
home--all but one man, who lay under the apple-tree all night and
groaned like he was dying, only we thought it was cats--she made me tell
her all about the salt and the golden syrup. She wouldn't believe that I
had tried to do my best, and didn't mean any harm. Father took her part,
and said I ought to eat some of the ice-cream, since I made it; but I
said I'd rather go up stairs with him. So I went.
Some of these days people will begin to understand that they are just
wasting and throwing away a boy who always tries to do his best, and
perhaps they'll be sorry when it is too late.
[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]
At the end of its second volume, HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE counts its little
friends in every quarter of the globe. The promises made by its
conductors a year ago have been amply fulfilled. The paper has grown
steadily better, fuller, brighter, and stronger, and its weekly arrival
is hailed by thousands of children and youth with eager delight.
Our Post-office Box numbers among its contributors correspondents from
all parts of the United States and Canada, and from Europe, Asia,
Australia, and the islands of the Pacific. Wherever there is an
English-speaking community or colony, there our paper finds a welcome,
and from thence come evidences of interest in Our Post-office Box. The
pictures of child-life drawn by little fingers are very refreshing to
older eyes. We see that there is a great deal of youthful happiness in
the world, as the children write freely about their studies, their pets,
and their pastimes. We aim to make the Post-office Box educational, and
stimulating to intelligent inquiry, and we try to answer questions,
impart useful information, and enter into the children's plans for
improvement and recreation. We shall hereafter give enlarged space to
the letters, and in the new column C. Y. P. R. U. the Postmistress will
endeavor to be in entire sympathy with the older as well as the younger
readers of YOUNG PEOPLE. She intends in this department to include
extracts from favorite authors, and stories from English classics, told
briefly, from time to time, in her own way. Not only the little folks,
but the older sisters and brothers, will have their cozy niche, whenever
they wish it, in this informal column.
The exchange department will be conducted, as heretofore, as fairly,
attentively, and promptly as possible. Its primary object is to afford
young people an opportunity to exchange instructive and interesting
articles with each other. It ought to be an adjunct to their studying of
geography, history, and natural science. We request that exchangers will
write their names and addresses as plainly as they can in every case,
that they will always correspond with each other by postal cards before
sending their valuable stamps or other treasures, and that in writing to
us they will condense their offers and consult brevity, so that we may
be able to print a great many of their letters in each issue.
We intend to make the puzzle department more attractive than ever.
Now, little readers and larger ones, since you write to us so warmly in
our praise, since you enjoy the stories, the sketches, the poems, and
the whole weekly feast the beautiful paper brings to you, will you not
recommend it to others? Tell all your friends how much pleasure and
benefit you derive from it, and see whether you can not increase its
circulation. The more subscribers YOUNG PEOPLE shall have, the better
will the publishers be able to make it, and the more tempting will be
the attractions it will offer through autumn days, winter evenings,
spring sunshine, and summer leisure, for busy young people, all the year
round.
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