It was one of the coldest days of winter. Benny came home from
school, intending to brave the cold and go coasting till dark;
but, when he found mama had a sick headache, he said nothing
about coasting, but volunteered to amuse four-year-old Lulu
while mama lay down for a nap. That’s the kind of a boy Benny
was!
“Let’s blow soap-bubbles,” he said, taking Lulu into the
kitchen, where he made a cup of beautiful soap-suds. Each had a
pipe, and they blew bubbles for a long time. The sun shone in at
the window, making them all the colors of the rainbow.
“Oh, I wish I could keep ’em!” sighed Lulu. “They are so pretty!”
An idea came into Benny’s wise young head. He took a piece of
an old, soft, woolen blanket, and carrying it out into the
shed, spread it very smoothly on the floor in an out-of-the-way
corner. Then, going back into the kitchen, he said:
“Now, Lulu, I’m going out into the shed to work a few minutes.
It’s too cold for you out there, but, if my plans work well,
I’ll wrap you up warm and take you out to see what I have done.
You keep on blowing bubbles here.”
“All right,” said Lulu cheerfully.
Benny carried out part of the soap-suds, and as rapidly as
possible blew about a dozen bubbles, floating them on to the
soft blanket. The cold was so intense that they froze instantly
before they could burst; and there they stood, looking like so
many delicate glass balls.
When the blanket was well filled, Benny went in and, putting
on Lulu’s warm wraps, took her out to see the bubbles. How
surprized she was!
“Can’t I roll ’em round?” she asked.
“No indeed!” said Benny. “The least touch would break them all
to smash!”
When mama got up with her headache relieved, she had to go out
and see the bubbles, and so did papa when he came home.
The night was so cold, and the shed door and windows being
closed, so that there was no draught of air, the bubbles were
as good as ever in the morning. But before noon they began to
crack open and dry away, and, when Benny came home at night, the
weather was milder and each bright bubble had vanished, leaving
only a bit of soap-suds in its place.
This is a true story, and some sharp day this winter
you bright boys and girls can try the experiment for
yourselves.--MATTIE A. BAKER, _Youth’s Companion_.
(2492)
See RESUSCITATION.