that he must yield. He proposed a compromise. "Let us work then for
this spring and summer--you in the silk mill and I in my onion patch,"
he said, "and marry in the fall. I can wait no longer than that."
Agatha could find no fault with this. It won her approval of both
heart and her reason. Slipping her hand in his, she nestled closer and
they began their hopeful planning, while the train sped on, bearing
them to the peaceful valley of their future labors.
All the plans--sensible and practical--they made that wonderful first
day, were marvelously realized, not by mere happy chance, but through
a great steadfastness of purpose and unfaltering toil. By thrift and
frugality, by self-denial and sacrifice, they accomplished the
miracle. And they were happy in the doing of it, because they worked
together. Neither Stefan nor Agatha had ever labored so willingly.
The radiance of a united future lighted the way--always just ahead
they saw the hearth-fire gleaming.
The spring and summer passed swiftly. Stefan and Agatha learned of
America's entry into the world war with anxious hearts. They dreaded the
quenching of that hearth-fire. But their fears were groundless. Instead
of depreciation and loss the war brought added prosperity. The wages in
the silk mill were raised. Stefan's onion sets sold at double prices. At
the end of the season they found that they had exceeded their hopes, in
spite of paying off the debt and the increased cost of living.
At last, as Stefan had said, the way was clear. The crown of their
hopes, the wedding day, was set and their friends invited. A stone house
with a little ground had been secured. The furniture was installed.
Everything was ready for the marriage feast on the next day.
As they left the cozy little house in the long shadows of the
September sunset, Stefan turned at the gate to look back. His dream
was realized. Destiny had not taken up his challenge so far, and he
determined to make the future sure. Unconsciously his hand stole to
the inner pocket where a modest roll of notes--the remains of their
combined savings lay warm and safe. In all their anxious discussions,
he and Agatha had not been able to find a place safe enough to satisfy
their fears. Bankers and trunks had betrayed their trust. Stefan
sighed. He had hoped to have this matter off his mind before the happy
morrow. He wished Agatha would offer some solution and he turned to
her with the old question on his lips. But he did not ask it. Another
voice took up the story.
It was old Shelton, the farmer for whom Stefan had worked the first
summer in the valley. His small eyes were twinkling and his long chin
beard wagged importantly. "Hello, Steve, how'r ye? Settin' up in fine
style, I see. Must be gittin' rich these days."
Stefan thought at first that the shrewd old fellow's chuckle of
delight was a tribute to his and Agatha's achievement. But he was soon
enlightened as to its real source. Old Shelton bestowed hearty praise
on the little house and neat garden, he congratulated him in advance
for the morrow, but his small eyes fairly snapped as he added, tapping
his own pocket.
"Ye'v spent a pile of money on all this there, and I s'pose you ain't
got much left--I got somepin here that 'ud interest ye."
It was the answer to Stefan's unuttered question. He started as old
Shelton pulled out from his pocket two yellowish, stiff folders with
much black lettering upon them, which, when opened by Shelton's
toil-worn fingers, disclosed a number of large square stamps pasted on
the printed squares. Agatha, woman-like, was quick to inquire. Old
Shelton explained with zest.
He showed them first the Thrift card with its green twenty-five cent
stamps. "I got them at odd times, at the post office," he told them
with his exultant chuckle. "These here," showing the Savings
Certificates with blue five-dollar stamps, "I bought right out when I
saw what a sure thing it was. Safe as Uncle Sam's Capitol at
Washington. Can't never bust up, these can't. No, siree! Long as this
here country holds out, these here stamps are worth the coin! And look
at the money ye make on 'em."
And he explained the process by which today's purchaser of a blue
stamp would be the possessor of a five-dollar note when the stamps
matured at the end of five years. "Only four-nineteen, ye see," he
pointed with a horny finger. "Only four-nineteen today, but five good
round dollars in five years. Ye can't beat that, I tell ye. Not to be
safe and sound, ye understand."
Stefan and Agatha looked at each other. They knew old Shelton to be
the shrewdest, most cautious man in the community. In a moment they
knew what they should do with the modest roll of bills. The safe place
had been found. The United States Treasury was the only spot.
"As safe as Vavel!" murmured Stefan as the old farmer after repeated
congratulations and chuckled approval of the young people's eager
acceptance of his gospel of thrift, disappeared down the long road.
"As safe as Vavel," he repeated, and a great surge of joyful relief
flooded his very soul.
He put his arm about Agatha and they turned their faces toward the
sunset glow. In the dim glory of the skies they saw the steadfast
gleam of their own dear hearth-fire.
"The good God has shown us the way," they said.
--_Casimir A. Sienkiewicz.
Courtesy Federal Reserve Bank of Philadelphia._
This story can be easily divided into a definite series of shorter
stories. The titles of these shorter stories will serve as an
outline. Look over the selection quickly, and write the outline.
QUESTIONS
Even government bonds and thrift stamps have to be guarded so that
they will not be lost, burned, or stolen.
Where is the safest place to keep such valuable things as liberty
bonds and thrift stamps? How much does it cost to rent a safe
place for your savings? Where can you rent one in your town?
UNPATRIOTIC CARELESSNESS
Are you careless? That makes you stop and think a bit, doesn't it? If
you are honest with yourself, the answer probably will be "_Yes_," for
almost everybody in this country is careless. That is the principal
reason why we have so many fires.
Here are some figures that should open our eyes. In 1913, the year
before the outbreak of the war, the average fire-loss for each man,
woman and child in France was 49 cents; in England it was 33 cents; in
Germany, 28 cents; in Austria, 25 cents; in Italy, 25 cents; in
Switzerland, 15 cents; and in Holland, only 11 cents. In the United
States for the same year the direct loss was $2.10--and the indirect
loss was far higher. Our record was, therefore, more than four times
as bad as that of France, and nearly twenty times as bad as that of
Holland.
Vienna and Chicago are cities of about the same size. Vienna had fire
losses for the year 1913 of $303,200; Chicago's were $5,513,237, or
more than eighteen times as great. New York City's fire losses were
about four and one-half times as large as those of London. A similar
comparison might be made with many other cities. Can we be proud of
such figures?
Of course there are more wooden buildings in America than in Europe.
This is a condition which will take many years to change. But the most
serious cause of fires could be removed at once, if all the people
would assist; this cause is found in one word--_carelessness_.
It must be admitted that the United States, with all its advantages,
is a nation of careless people. Carelessness is not a thing to be
proud of; it is a great national sin. It shows itself in many habits
of recklessness, wastefulness, and untidiness. It burns our towns; it
leads people to risk their lives at railroad crossings and other
places of danger; it takes chances with health; it is shown in all
dirty streets, littered back yards, and untidy homes. It has been well
described by Roy K. Moulton, a writer in the "_News_" of Grand Rapids,
Michigan, as follows:
_WHO AM I?_
I am more powerful than the combined armies of the world.
I am more deadly than bullets, and I have wrecked more homes than the
mightiest of siege guns.
I steal in the United States alone over $300,000,000 each year.
I spare no one, and find my victims among the rich and poor alike, the
young and old, the strong and the weak; widows and orphans know me.
I massacre thousands upon thousands of wage-earners in a year.
I lurk in unseen places, and do most of my work silently. You are
warned against me, but you heed not.
I am relentless. I am everywhere; in the home, on the street, in the
factory, at railroad crossings, and on the sea.
I bring sickness, degradation and death, and yet few seek to avoid me.
I destroy, crush and maim; I give nothing, but take all.
I am your worst enemy.
I AM CARELESSNESS.
If a foreign army should land upon our shores, it could not wreak more
destruction than this. If such an army should come and any American
were found to be giving it aid, he would be called a traitor to his
country. Every patriot would rise against such a foe.
The spirit of carelessness in the United States is really a greater
enemy than any foreign invader, and it is found in millions of little
unconscious acts of carelessness. Whenever you, yourself, commit such
an act, therefore, you really range yourself as an enemy of your
country, but if you begin earnestly to watch your actions and to form
new habits of carefulness, you will be helping our great nation to
become safer, healthier, happier, and more useful to humanity. This is
the spirit of true patriotism.
If, then, you are determined to try with all your might to form these
new habits of carefulness, the first great step toward preventing fire
will have been taken.
--_National Board of Fire Underwriters._
QUESTIONS
When you have finished reading, write the answers to these
questions. If you can not answer immediately, find the answer
somewhere in the story, but do not read it all again; read only
enough to get the correct answer.
1. What two reasons can you find to account for the greater loss
by fire in the United States than in Europe?
2. Which of these two reasons can be the more quickly removed?
Which one can you help to remove?
3. What other bad results besides fires come from our great
national sin?
4. Do you think it is fair to call a careless person unpatriotic?
Why?
A MEMORY TEST
Can you memorize by one careful reading these five lines which tell of
the great result of a small piece of carelessness?
For want of a nail the shoe was lost;
For want of a shoe the horse was lost;
For want of the horse the rider was lost;
For want of the rider the battle was lost;
For want of the battle a kingdom was lost.
CALIPH FOR ONE DAY
This story, "Caliph for One Day," is a tale from "The Arabian
Nights". If you have never read this story, you will find it very
interesting. Of course you have heard of Ali Baba, and of Aladdin
with his wonderful lamp, and of the Old Man of the Sea.
Your teacher would like to know which of you have read any of the
"Arabian Nights" tales and which of these tales you have read.
You ought to try to read such stories as this rapidly. To some
extent the rapidity with which you read is a habit. Every one
forms his own habits; and if you will try hard you can form habits
that will be useful to you as long as you live. One of these
habits is that of reading rapidly.
The sun was just setting, and its last rays gilded the roofs and
towers of the City of Bagdad, on the river Tigris; and far away, also,
on the ripples of the river fell the evening light, and the numerous
boats and ships which moved about on the surface of the water seemed
to plough through melted gold. On the railing of a high bridge which
led over the Tigris leaned a young man, who now turned his face
towards the sparkling water, now towards the people passing over the
bridge. His attention, however, appeared to be given less to the
inhabitants of the city than to those who might be taken for strangers
through their appearance and behavior. The eyes of many a passer-by
were turned also upon him, and it seemed many times as if one or
another of them wished to approach him. But a stern, repelling glance
from the young man had the effect, each time of making them go on
their way after a slight hesitation, shaking the head.
Suddenly two men drew near. The first of them seemed, judging from his
clothing, to be a rich business man from the city of Mussal; the
second, who followed him at some distance, was apparently his servant.
When the man waiting upon the bridge saw them come up to him, he
straightened up and went to meet them. Greeting respectfully the man
who was apparently a merchant, he said: "Sir, if, as I assume, you are
a stranger in this city, I beg you to come home with me and sleep in
my house."
As the stranger seemed rather taken by surprise, he continued: "I am
called 'Queer Abu Hassan', and live in my own house. I have made it my
duty for some time to take a stranger home with me every evening as my
guest, and entertain him there as well as I can until the following
morning. You would do me a great honor if you would accept my
invitation."
The stranger was no one else than the Caliph Harun Alrashid, who was
thus caught on one of his favorite wanderings through the city
accompanied by one of his slaves.
After a few kindly words he agreed, called his servant to him, and both
joined Abu Hassan, who soon brought them to his house not far away. Here
he bade them lie down and make themselves at home. Soon a servant
appeared and brought their supper. It consisted of several well prepared
dishes, and seemed to please both strangers very well. All kinds of
fruit were placed upon the table for dessert, and after the meal was
finished they had a lively conversation, in which Abu Hassan's mother
took part when she came in to greet the guests. Although neither she nor
her son had any idea of the lofty position of their guest, they bustled
around him so pleasantly and kindly that Harun stretched himself out
comfortably on a divan and took his share in the talk with real
enjoyment. At last the Caliph requested Abu Hassan to tell him his
history. And so the host of the evening began as follows:
"I am the son of a very rich merchant, who died only too young, and I
had a good education as a boy. But if my father made any mistake at
that time, it was that he gave me very little money, and so prevented
my learning how to spend more wisely, which must really be learned in
order to be done properly. So, after his death, I devoted myself to
this occupation with a number of other young fellows, and enjoyed
myself at such a rate that I soon had got rid of a great part of my
property. Fortunately I saw soon enough the abyss into which my way of
living must lead me. For this reason I drew back, but first decided to
test my friends and see whether they were true or not. I told them
that I had gone through all my money, and asked them to help me. Not
one of them gave me a reassuring answer. Furthermore, they avoided me,
and acted on the street as if they had never known me. This
contemptible behavior hurt me so deeply, that I came near to hating
the whole human race. But after I had lived a long time in melancholy
loneliness, I pulled myself together again, and decided to go out
among people once more. I promised myself, however, never again to
invite a friend, but only strangers, and never to keep one longer than
one night in my house, and if I ever saw them again to act as if I had
never seen them. So this evening, just before I saw you, I turned away
from several persons who had been my guests before, and who were about
to speak to me."
The Caliph laughed, and said: "No one can blame you under such
circumstances, and because of your extraordinary experience."
After Abu Hassan's mother had retired the young man brought out a bottle
of his best wine, and presented a glass of it to the Caliph, after first
politely tasting it. The Caliph drank to him, and asked Abu if he could
not do him a favor in return for his kind hospitality. But Abu answered
with a smile: "You understand, sir, that I do not count upon
recognition, and to-morrow morning will not know you any more."
"That's so," laughed Harun; "but I had forgotten it. You can, however,
pay no further attention to me if you wish, and yet if it is
distasteful to you to ask a favor for yourself, request a helping hand
to be given to somebody else."
"Sir," cried Abu Hassan, "my friends were not of the quality that I
would want to do anything for them, nor will I harm them, either. So I
would not know what wish I could make. But wait!" he broke out
suddenly. "There is one wish which I have often thought of and will
tell you of, although you cannot fulfil it, and perhaps will find it
extremely ridiculous. But you will at least understand why people call
me 'Queer Abu Hassan'."
"Let's hear it," said the Caliph.
Abu Hassan sighed, and announced: "Just for one day I would like to be
Caliph."
"And what influences you to this wish?" asked Harun. "Would you carry
out some important law in the State? Or look out for yourself
immediately?"
"Neither one nor the other," answered Queer Abu Hassan. "I would just
like to have some scamps among my neighbors thoroughly beaten."
"And you would like to be caliph merely for this purpose?" laughed
Harun Alrashid.
"Certainly, sir," replied Abu Hassan, "because I cannot get a suitable
punishment measured out to them in any other way. Since they are
rascals, they would easily get away from the judge to whom I might
denounce them."
"Do you think so?" asked the Caliph.
"They would the more surely avoid punishment," said Abu Hassan,
"because their ringleader is a holy Imam of respected appearance, whom
the judge would never believe capable of any wrong action, and yet
they slander all the respectable people in this quarter of the city,
and try by using every means to gain an influence over the consciences
of the Faithful, while they themselves pay but scant attention to the
laws of the Koran."
"Well," said the Caliph, as he tried to calm Abu Hassan, who had
worked himself up to a rage, "perhaps your wish to see these
scoundrels properly punished will come true in some way, even if you
are not the Commander of the Faithful. Let us drink to the realization
of your wish."
The Caliph seized the bottle and filled the glasses full, at the same
time dropping a pinch of white powder into Abu Hassan's glass without
his noticing it.
Hardly had they drank it off before Abu Hassan nodded his head and
fell into a deep sleep. The Caliph immediately called his slave, and
ordered him to take the sleeping man on his shoulders and bear him to
the palace. Then he left Abu Hassan's house, pulling the door to, but
not shutting it.
Once arrived at his palace, Harun Alrashid ordered Abu Hassan to be
clothed in a splendid night robe and laid in the Caliph's own costly
bed. Then the officers, servants, slaves, and slave women received the
strictest orders to carry out Abu Hassan's commissions faithfully next
morning, and, above all, to treat him as if he were the Commander of
the Faithful.
You can imagine Abu Hassan's astonishment when he woke up next morning
in the splendid bed and looked around at the room so beautifully
decorated with gold and expensive wall hangings. At first he thought
he was dreaming. He kept opening and closing his eyes, trying to find
out for sure if he were asleep or awake. Still greater was his
amazement when he caught sight of a garment of woven gold near his
bed, and a caliph's cap on a silken cushion. But yet he could not
believe that these were all real things, and he had to convince
himself by feeling them that he was not in a world of dreams.
[Illustration: "PLEASE BITE MY FINGER"]
"Where am I, then?" he cried. "What has happened to me? Everything
looks as if I were in the Caliph's palace. Or have I become Caliph
myself over night?"
While scolding himself for his foolish thoughts, he was trying all the
time to go to sleep again. But suddenly the lofty double doors of his
chamber opened, and a troop of wonderfully beautiful women and black
slaves stepped in. One band of women began to sing and play charming
music on different instruments. The others threw themselves down
before him, and one of the black slaves stepped to the bedside and
said: "Commander of the Faithful, it is time for early prayers. May it
please you to get up?"
"Whether I'm Caliph or not, I will get up at least just to see how
this adventure turns out!"
Hardly did he show his intention of raising himself when the slaves
jumped in a hurry to help him, and to dress him in the golden morning
gown. At the same time all those present shouted: "Commander of the
Faithful, God give you a blessed day!"
Now, this was too much for poor Abu Hassan. He called one of the women
to him, and said: "Please bite my finger, so I can see if I am
dreaming or not."
The slave that he called knew that Harun Alrashid was watching
everything from the next room, and wished to amuse the real Commander
of the Faithful. So she bit Abu Hassan's finger sharply. The
quickness with which Abu Hassan pulled back his finger made the hidden
Caliph almost split his sides with laughing, and he congratulated
himself that he had found such an enjoyable diversion by carrying his
plan through. He said to himself: "Abu Hassan could hardly be more
curious than I am to know how the story will end."
But Abu Hassan was thinking: "I cannot understand this surprising
change, but it seems to me that the queer Hassan of yesterday has
become the real Caliph of today." So he let them put his clothes on
him without resistance, and with a certain dignified manner which the
Caliph noticed with great pleasure. Then they washed his head, face
and hands with deliciously scented water. Finally the Grand Vizier
announced, with many a bow of respect, that the great people of the
court and of the realm were assembled and expecting the appearance of
the Commander of the Faithful. So Abu Hassan drew himself up to his
full height, and, preceded by armed soldiers and a number of
chamberlains resplendent in gold, walked to the great throne room,
where he was led to the throne by the chamberlains.
The doors of the hall opened, and the Commanders-in-Chief of the Army,
the Governors of the Provinces and the nobles of the country marched
in in a wonderful parade and greeted Abu Hassan as Caliph. They
stepped forward to the throne, dropped on their knees, and touched the
carpet before him with their foreheads. Abu Hassan took all of this as
quietly as if he had been Caliph since youth. He listened to the Grand
Vizier's address, took part in the consultations over matters of
state, and decided difficult points with such a sound understanding of
human nature that the real Caliph, who stood disguised among the
officers, was greatly pleased. Suddenly Abu Hassan made a sign to the
Grand Vizier to interrupt his address.
"Where is the Chief of Police of our capital city?" he cried. "Let him
be brought here immediately."
When the man called for had appeared and announced himself, "at the
command of his mighty master," Abu said: "In the mosque of the new
quarter you will find an Imam and four other old men. I wish you to
arrest them and give each one hundred stripes with the bastinado. Then
let them be mounted backwards on camels and led through the city
accompanied by a herald, who shall call out these words: 'In this way
the Commander of the Faithful punishes those who meddle in matters that
do not concern them, and who know nothing better to do than bring
trouble and pain to their neighbors.' After this sentence is completed,
however, you are then to tell them that they must leave that quarter of
the city, and not set foot in it again under penalty of death."
While the magistrate hurried away to carry out Abu Hassan's command,
the Grand Vizier went on with his address. An hour later the Chief of
Police came back with the news that the Caliph's orders had been
conscientiously fulfilled, at which Abu Hassan felt the greatest
satisfaction, while Harun Alrashid thoroughly enjoyed seeing his
substitute arrive so quickly at the realization of his long cherished
wish.
After the business matters were finished, there took place another
stately reception of numerous foreign ambassadors, and finally the new
Caliph betook himself with his whole court to dinner. It consisted of
a selection of the most delicate food and wine, and lasted late into
the evening, with music and all kinds of dancing.