play-fellows cautiously. All at once two of them stopped their game, and
came running up.
"Go out! go out!" cried Dreamer, eagerly, "or they'll hurt you."
But already the rude boys were upon them.
"Turn them out! turn them out!" they shouted, and one of them caught
Bill by the shoulder, while the others began roughly to hustle Nellie
and poor, wondering Bab. This our little gentleman could not stand.
Wildly he hit out right and left, keeping between Nellie with Bab in her
arms and her two cowardly assailants, until they and Bill were safe
outside the gate. Then he shut it, and stood with his back against it.
The other boys were very indignant, and many a buffet poor Dreamer got.
The last the three children saw of him, as they turned out of the
square, he was lying on the grass, crying bitterly, his little sister
standing beside him, crying too.
"You baby!" sneered one of the boys, "blubbering because you got hit!"
"I'm not crying because I got hit," shouted Dreamer, springing up, his
face all burning. "I'm crying to think that boys calling themselves
gentlemen should have behaved in such a way to those poor children."
"Cads have no right in the garden."
"Then the sooner you get out the better," retorted the little champion,
for which observation the enemy was upon him again.
Poor Bill and his sisters felt very sorrowful at the trouble they had
brought their dear little friend into.
"Oh, mother!" they cried; "to think it was all for us!"
"Depend upon it, my darlings," said the wise mother, "that is his
greatest comfort. He is all the happier for it now."
Something was very wrong indeed with little Bab next morning. When her
mother bent over her to give her the parting kiss, she opened her eyes,
stared wildly upward, and uttered a scream of terror.
"Go away! go away! You hit the little boy!"
Poor little Bab was very ill. Fever had broken out in the close court.
Her mother sent Bill for the dispensary doctor, and Nellie to tell her
employers that she could not work for them that day. When the doctor
came, he confirmed her fears. Bab had the fever. Oh, the agony of the
next few days! The once merry voice rang out full of trouble. Constantly
one weary cry came from the dark, cracked lips:
"Why won't you let Bab in to gaver f'owers? Why are the great gates
always shut? My daisies! my daisies!"
"Nellie," said Bill, one evening, "wouldn't it make Bab better if we
should go to the square and ask him and the little lady to gather some
daisies, and kiss them, and give them to us for Bab?"
Nellie thought it would. Early the next morning, which was Saturday,
they set off without saying a word to their mother. They were so early
that they had to wait a long time in the square before the boy appeared.
At last the door of the house flew open, a hoop came bounding down the
steps, and after it shot a boy, the baby behind him, in a new dress,
with a doll clasped in her arms.
It was the baby who first noticed the waiting children.
"Dere's de children we gived de daisies to," she said, going up to the
railing. "Does you want some flowers, now?" she asked, throwing down her
doll and dropping on her knees to pick them.
"Where's de baby?" she demanded presently, pausing in her diligent
task.
"She's very ill. That's why we came for flowers," said Nellie, sadly.
"Has her a sore froat?"
"No, it's the fever."
"Brozer, brozer, come quick and gazzer flowers. De ittle baby has dot de
fever!"
Brozer came.
"Is she very ill?" he asked.
"Yes," said poor Bill, "she's near dead, and we thought perhaps if you
would gather some flowers and kiss them, and wish Bab better, perhaps
she would get better. For she does love you so!"
Suddenly Baby dropped the daisies on the grass, clasped her hands, and
said, in a loud clear voice,
"O Dod! dear Dod! make Bab better, p'ease." And then with a satisfied
nod, as if to say. "That's settled," she set to work again.
Dreamer gathered busily, and said never a word.
"Will that be enough?" he inquired, after a while, holding out a great
ball of white stars.
"Oh, quite, quite. Now would you mind kissing it?" said Nell, eagerly.
"That will do no good."
"Oh yes, it will!" Nellie insisted, and so, blushing scarlet, he kissed
the flowers, saying gravely, "May she soon be better!"
Baby did the same, crowding into Bill's hand the daisy heads she had
plucked. Then, before he knew what she was about, she thrust her sunny
face through the bars and kissed him on the lips.
"Take 'at to de baby," was all she had time to say, when her brother
caught her in his arms and drew her back.
"Oh, Baby! Baby! you silly, silly girl," he cried. "You may have caught
the fever," he exclaimed, his eyes full of fear. And then, moved by a
strange wild hope that he might be able to take the infection from her,
he kissed her slowly.
"Please, sir," said Nellie, "the doctor says it isn't infectious."
His face cleared.
"Thank you," he said. "Come again when little Bab is better." And so
they parted.
When again they crept softly up the rickety stair, their sister lay upon
the bed, her tiny hands folded, her eyes closed, her lips parted in a
smile. By her side sat the worn-out mother, her head on Bab's pillow.
Both were fast asleep.
They laid the flowers on the bed, and very gently Bill just touched
Bab's face and gave her the baby's kiss.
They seated themselves on the window-sill beside the pigeon, which had
been a little bit neglected in their anxiety, and waited a long, long
time. An hour must have passed, and Nellie was the only watcher, for
Bill too fell asleep. At last Bab stirred a little. Slowly her wee hands
moved until they touched the daisies.
"Who sent 'em?" she whispered.
"The little master," said Nellie, "and the baby, and they asked God to
let you stay and get well, and He said yes."
"'Es," said Bab, "Dod said 'es."
From that hour she began to grow stronger. Every day Nellie and Bill
went to the garden again, and Dreamer and his sister gathered daisies
and sent them to Bab.
* * * * *
"It was us!" suddenly shouted Baby. "Us was werry nice!" remarked the
little lady, with great satisfaction.
But Donald was crying.
Auntie laid her hand on his head.
"You were right, dear, when you said you were sure the pigeon came for
something. He came to you with a message from the God of little
children, who says, 'Whatsoever ye have done unto one of the least of
these, ye have done it unto Me.'"
SAVED BY AN ALBATROSS.
The following story is another example of the truth that is stranger
than fiction:
During a voyage made by the bark _Gladstone_ from London to Sydney, in
Australia, on the 22d of October, while the vessel was in latitude
forty-two degrees south, and longitude ninety degrees east, a seaman
fell overboard from the starboard gangway. The bark was scudding along
with a rough sea and moderate wind, but on the alarm of "Man overboard"
being given, she was rounded to, and the starboard life-boat was
lowered, manned by the chief officer and four men.
A search for the unfortunate man was made, but owing to the roughness of
the sea he could not be discovered, but the boat steered to the spot
where he was last seen. Here they found him floating, but exhausted,
clinging for bare life to the legs and wings of a huge albatross.
The bird had swooped down on the man while the latter was struggling
with the waves, and attempted to peck him with his powerful beak. Twice
the bird attacked his prey unsuccessfully, being beaten off by the
desperate sailor battling with two enemies--the water and the
albatross--both greedy and insatiable. For the third time the huge white
form of the bird hovered over the seaman preparatory to a final swoop.
The bird, eager for its meal, fanned its victim with its wide-spread
wings. Suddenly it occurred to him that the huge form so close to his
face might become his involuntary rescuer. Quick as thought he reached
up and seized the bird, which he proceeded to strangle with all his
might. The huge creature struggled with wings and paddles to free
itself.
In the contest the sailor was beaten black and blue, and cruelly
lacerated, but he held his own, and slowly the bird quivered and died.
The carcass floated lightly on the waves, its feathers forming a support
for the exhausted man, who had so narrowly escaped a lingering death.
But another danger awaited him. He was not much of a swimmer, and the
excitement of the extraordinary conflict began to tell upon him. He was
faint and grew giddy. But with one arm around the albatross's body under
the wings, and a hand clutching the bird's feet, the sailor awaited his
chance of rescue. Presently he heard his comrades shout from the boat,
and in a few minutes more was safe on board the bark, though a good deal
shaken and exhausted.
PREPARING FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY.
BY A. W. ROBERTS.
Fourth of July is coming, boys, and we must do something to celebrate
the anniversary of the glorious Declaration of Independence.
Let us see if we can not plan something that will be better and
pleasanter than setting off fire-crackers, firing pistols, guns, and toy
cannons. All these things make a hideous racket, which annoys sick and
delicate persons, to say nothing of the serious accidents that have so
often turned the great national holiday into a day of pain and sorrow
for many a boy who started out in the morning to have a good time, and
ended before night with bandaged hands and aching heads. It will be much
better for you to be content with seeing the public display of
fire-works which will take place in almost every village, managed by men
who are used to handling these dangerous articles, than to run the risk
of losing an eye or a hand in the reckless use of explosive toys.
There are many pleasant ways in which you can celebrate the Fourth
without any danger. There is no reason why you shouldn't have a supply
of lanterns for one thing, and make the woods and lawns and the inside
and outside of your houses just as bright as possible. I am going to
have a great illumination. My lanterns were all finished up a week ago,
and now I am going to tell you just how I made them, so that if you like
you can have as many and as great a variety as are now piled up in one
corner of my room all ready for the evening of the glorious Fourth.
[Illustration: Fig. 1.]
My first lantern (Fig. 1) is made out of a Chicago corned-beef can, of
which I procured a number from our grocery man. Having thoroughly washed
them out with hot water and soda, I took them to a friendly tinsmith,
who cut out from the sides the squares, circles, and ellipses. Over
these I pasted red, white, and blue tissue-paper, while, to make the
lantern still more luminous, holes were punched through the tin sides in
various designs. This lantern can be either suspended with wires, or
stood on window-sills, balconies, etc.
[Illustration: Fig. 2.]
My next lantern (Fig. 2) is an imitation of the Chinese "bucket"
lantern. The top consists of a strip of pasteboard one inch in breadth,
the ends of which are sewed together, thus forming a circle, with a
diameter of about seven inches. The bottom consists of a circular piece
of pasteboard. The body of the lantern is composed of one piece of
tissue-paper, either red, white, or blue in color, which is pasted to
the top band and to the circular bottom piece. The lantern is suspended
by means of three pieces of stout thread or fine wire as shown in the
illustration.
[Illustration: Fig. 3.]
Fig. 3 is a folding lantern made of three pieces of pasteboard of
uniform size, on which designs in stars, shields, squares, and circles
are drawn previous to cutting them out with a chisel and scissors. The
small circles or holes shown in the illustration are burned through the
pasteboard with a red-hot wire or poker. Red, white, and blue
tissue-paper is pasted on the inside to produce the colored effects. The
sides of pasteboard are fastened together on the inside with strips of
silk, muslin, or calico by means of glue. The bottom of the lantern
consists of a triangular piece of pasteboard, A, which is fastened to
the bottom of the middle square, B, also by means of a strip of silk. At
the corners, C, C, C, C, C, small holes are made with a very coarse
darning-needle. The three square sides of pasteboard when brought
together form a triangle equal to that of the bottom piece, B. Fine wire
or coarse thread is then passed through the holes, C, C, C, C, C, and
tied. The result is a very light and showy lantern of triangular form,
which can be suspended by fine wire or thread. The advantage of this
lantern over others is that after using it it can be untied, folded
together, and packed away until the next Fourth arrives. The can lantern
can also be used for many years by re-covering it with tissue-paper when
necessary, thus saving expense and trouble.
In making designs for lanterns always have them bold and strong. The
effects will then be satisfactory, whereas fine and finicky work on a
lantern is all lost when viewed from a short distance.
[Illustration: Fig. 4.]
What bothered me most in my lantern venture was to obtain holders for
the candles that would not take fire when the candles burned down, and
thus endanger the wood-work round about. At last I hit upon three styles
of home-made fire-proof candle-holders. The first is shown in Fig. 4. It
consists of a raw potato cut into square slices three-quarters of an
inch thick. These are bevelled at the sides as shown in the figure.
Half-way through the centre of the slice a hole is bored, into which the
candle is inserted. This holder is fastened to the bottom of the lantern
by means of pins, which are driven through the sides of the potato and
into the pasteboard.
[Illustration: Fig. 5.]
Fig. 5 consists of three thicknesses of tin-foil, formed on a piece of
wood of the same diameter as that of the candle. To form the end of the
holder the tin-foil is solidly twisted together to the extent of an
inch. When using this holder a hole is bored into the bottom of the
lantern, through which the twisted end of the holder is passed and
clinched on the under side.
[Illustration: Fig. 6.]
Fig. 6 is made of a strip of thin tin or sheet-lead, the ends of which,
when brought together, form a circle. The two square projections on the
bottom of the strip are passed into two slots in the bottom of the
lantern, and bent back so as to fasten the holder securely. The price of
adamantine candles in New York city that will burn three hours is three
dollars per hundred. All the illuminating material above described is
very inexpensive, and more effective than the imported Chinese lanterns.
The fun of making them, the lessons learned in utilizing and putting
together various materials, the combining of colors in various designs,
more than repay one for all the trouble.
[Illustration: Fig. 7.]
In a previous number of YOUNG PEOPLE something was told you about gas
balloons. They involve the use of chemicals. To my mind, the hot-air
balloon is a great deal better and less expensive to manage. Make your
balloons after the manner described in the article in No. 136. Now comes
the business of inflating them. There are some difficulties to contend
with, but with a little care you will be successful. The following is
the best method according to my experience. Secure a short piece of old
stove-pipe, and place the lower end on two bricks (Fig. 7), a space
being left between them which is to answer as a draught-hole. The back
and sides are then built up with bricks to prevent its falling. A fire
is kindled in the stove-pipe, which is then filled with charcoal to
one-third of its depth. As soon as the bottom of the pipe becomes
red-hot, the mouth of the balloon is held over the top of the pipe so as
to allow the hot air and gas to pass into and inflate it.
[Illustration: Fig. 8.]
In balloons bought at stores the fire-ball is fastened where the fine
wires intersect one another at the mouth of the balloon (Fig. 8). When
inflating the balloon by means of the stove-pipe, the fire-ball will
have to be removed, as otherwise it would be destroyed when holding the
mouth of the balloon over the top of the pipe. After removing the ball,
fasten it on a thin wire hook so that the instant the balloon is
inflated the fire-ball can be lit and hooked on to its position in the
centre of the mouth of the balloon (Fig. 8). By this means the balloon
will remain inflated at least one half-hour longer, and will travel many
miles further than when relying entirely for a supply of hot air from
the fire-ball alone.
When sending off a fire-balloon at night, the hook must be shortened up
close to the mouth of the balloon, so that the entire body of the
balloon is illuminated; for daylight effect the hook is made longer, as
shown in the picture. The best material for making the fire-ball is
cotton batting saturated with a solution of two-thirds alcohol and
one-third turpentine. It is a good plan to attach a postal card on which
your address is written, and a request to the finder of the balloon that
he will mail the card back to you with a memorandum on it where and at
what time the balloon arrived. In this way you will know exactly how
many miles and at what rate of speed your balloon has travelled.
GRANDFATHER KNITTING.
BY S. S. CONANT.
Lie quietly, baby grandson, while mother dear is away;
Out in the beautiful meadow she's raking the new-mown hay.
It's long since I went with the mowers, because I am growing old,
And they leave me at home with my knitting, and give me baby to hold.
It seems but yesterday, baby, that I was strong and hale,
And not a comrade could lead me at swinging the scythe or flail;
To wrestle or dance I was always the first upon the ground,
And there was not a swifter runner in all the country round.
But now I am hardly able to totter across the floor:
And instead of mowing the meadow, I sun myself at the door.
When I remember my manhood, it's hard to be reconciled
To sit at home with my knitting, and tending a little child.
And yet we are comrades, baby: at the door of this life you lie,
And I at the door am waiting of life beyond the sky.
To a brave and hearty manhood your infant frame will grow,
And young again I shall waken in the Land to which I go!
[Illustration]
[Illustration: A GREENWOOD SCENE.]
Who so light of heart as we,
Dancing in the greenwood free,
Tripping, skipping, to and fro,
Laughing, gliding, heel and toe?
Mag and Robin, Jack and Nell,
Don't you think we polka well?
Merry Roger blows a horn,
And upon the breezes borne
Sounds the summons, "Come and share
Fun within the greenwood fair."
All the family are here:
Father, mother, baby dear.
Who so light of heart as we
Dancing 'neath the greenwood tree?
OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.
"Green gravel, green gravel, how green the grass grows!"
A ring of little boys and girls were singing this the other evening,
their hands joined, and their faces flushed with the merry exercise. A
lady who was looking at them said to the Postmistress:
"Dear me, that sight takes me a long way back into the past. Fifty years
ago I used to sing that song with my little brothers and sisters, and we
played just as those children do. It seems like yesterday."
Green gravel! The Postmistress understands why the grass is said to be
green. It has been just as bright and soft as it now is every summer
that she can remember, but she never saw green gravel. Did you?
* * * * *
SEARGEANT BLUFFS, IOWA.
My papa made me a present of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. I enjoy the
stories very much, and especially the letters. My mamma taught me
to sew my papers before reading them. I am a little girl eight
years old. I go to school, and have four studies--arithmetic,
geography, reading, and spelling. I have taken one term in music
lessons. I am learning how to do fancy-work. The first work I did
was a motto, and now I am making a toilet set for my room. It is
made of white honeycomb canvas, and worked with blue worsted. I
also do many little things to help my mamma. My pets are a
canary-bird named Fritz, who sings very sweetly, a tabby cat, and a
little baby brother, the sweetest of all. His name is Arthur. He
has learned lots of cunning things. I will tell you some of them.
He can tell all the animals on his blocks, and pat-i-cake, and
knock at the door, and lift up the latch. He is a year and a half
old.
CLARA A. H.
Kiss Arthur for me, please. Tell mamma the Postmistress thinks little
Clara must be a clever little helper.
* * * * *
COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO.
We came here from Vermont because papa was sick, and we have been
in Colorado about two years. We can see a good many mountains from
this place. Pike's Peak is the highest, and Cameron's Cone is a
mountain next to Pike's Peak. There is also a mountain called Mount
Garfield, which was named for President Garfield soon after he was
shot.
I have three little boats, and I sail them in the irrigating
ditches. I haven't any pets, but am trying to tame some gophers
which live under a little store-house on our grounds. They are
something like chipmunks, but not so pretty. Sometimes we see and
hear a robin, and it makes us very happy, because it seems like
home; and when I am gathering flowers I now and then find a
dandelion, and we are all glad to see it, for the same reason. We
find beautiful flowers here; lupins are the most common just now,
and there are some flowers much like the buttercups we used to see
at home.
My birthday was the 5th of May. I was eight years old. I had some
nice presents--_Tom Brown's School-Days_, and a scrap-book made by
the directions in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE No. 122, a beautiful
two-bladed knife, and a birthday cake with nine candles on it--one
for each year, and one to grow on. Mamma took me to Manitou for a
birthday treat; and if I did not think it would make my letter too
long, I would like to tell you about Manitou. It is right at the
foot of Pike's Peak, and there are mineral springs there bubbling
up out of stone basins, and wonderful cañons leading into the
mountains in every direction, in which beautiful flowers grow, and
there is a large cave with more than seventy rooms in it. We pass
the famous "Garden of the Gods" in going there.
I made a cross-word enigma, which I send you. Please print my
letter.
EDWARD DANA S.
I hope you will succeed in taming the gophers. What a delightful
birthday you had! It will help you to be happy all the year. Perhaps
some little reader may be puzzled to know what an irrigating ditch
means. It is a ditch dug for the purpose of holding water which is
brought to it from some river or lake. By means of little sluice-gates
this water is turned over the meadows or pastures, which would otherwise
be dry and parched. In parts of our country where the climate is dry,
and rain seldom falls, or falls only in what is called the rainy season,
farmers have to irrigate their ground in this way.
* * * * *
PLAINFIELD, NEW JERSEY.
I thought I would write you about our little chickens without a
mother; she died when the chickens were ten days old. We put them
in a big box with a feather duster, and brought them in by the
fire; they all cuddled under the duster, and are doing beautifully,
and are growing big and fat. If any boys or girls have young
chickens that have lost their mother, they should put them in a
warm place with a feather duster. I think YOUNG PEOPLE is lovely.
JOSIE L. M.
* * * * *
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA.
I have a pony whose name is Dixie. He eats molasses candy, and
follows me around the yard to get it. When a gate is shut tight, he
can open it with his teeth. I am eight years old, and mamma is
writing this for me, because I am just learning to write.
ALBERT R.
* * * * *
MORRISON, ILLINOIS.
I have just been reading some of the letters in Our Post-office
Box, and it came into my head to write one myself, though I am not
at all sure it will ever be published. I have always attended a
private school until lately, when my dear teacher went to Wisconsin
to live, so now I study at home. I enjoy the paper very much,
especially the Jimmy Brown stories. Even papa likes to look at the
pictures in it. I have no brothers or sisters, but I have a cousin,
only a little older than I am, who lives next door to me, and we
are almost like sisters. I do want some kind of pet so much, and
none of us can think of any except papa, who says I might have a
monkey, but I don't know about that. Can you think of some pet
suitable for a little girl ten years old?
KATE E.
Some little girl of Kate's age may answer this question.
* * * * *
INLAND, OHIO.