"Then you don't intend to do much shooting?"
"Well, two spring-buck are as much as I can carry."
"Suppose you miss?"
"Nobody misses when a cartridge costs sixpence."
The sequel was that the Boer got his two deer, one for each cartridge,
while the General fired five shots and got one.
* * * * *
Anachronisms In Art.
Tintoretto's painting representing the children of Israel gathering
manna in the desert shows the Hebrews armed with guns; while
Brenghall, a Dutch artist, in a picture of the Wise Men of the
East, placed in the hand of an Indian prince, as an offering to the
Holy Child, _the model of a seventy-four_.
JOHN COBBE.
* * * * *
A Day at an Arapahoe School.
Perhaps the Round Table would like to hear of a visit I made to an
Arapahoe Indian school here. My sister and I started with our host
from his home, in El Reno, about nine o'clock. We rode until two
that afternoon. There was a river to ford, and some steep hills to
climb. In about fifteen minutes after our arrival the exercises
began. It was the time of breaking up for the summer. A chorus of
Indian children sang a queer little song, of which I could not
understand a word. Then followed recitations, addresses by the
directors of the school, and songs by the children. All the Indian
girls wore purple calico dresses, with white cotton stockings and
heavy shoes, and the boys wore dark jackets and trousers, with
white shirts, and the same kind of foot-wear. They speak and recite
in a very singsong, monotonous manner.
After the exercises were over, the guests were asked to go through
the school. The school-rooms were large and airy, and there were
some good specimens of sewing, clay-modelling, etc. Some of the
Indian children have curious names. Hilda Two Babies, Myra Long
Neck, and Charlie Good Bear were some I heard. After a while we
went out into the grounds. All around on the grass chairs were set,
and these were occupied by "braves." One brave was standing in the
centre of a large circle, talking and gesticulating most
energetically. On the grass the squaws had ensconced themselves.
Not one of them would sit on a chair. They thought it was too
civilized.
The children had scattered, and were sitting with their parents, or
hanging round the white people, watching. In about an hour men came
around and distributed boiled rice, potatoes, and meat. Each family
was provided with a tin dish or old coffee-pot, and each held the
receptacle out for a share of the repast. The Indian babies, I
think, are very cunning little brown things. The braves of the
Arapahoe tribe have long tassels of leather, and sometimes
fox-tails, fastened to the ends of their moccasins, at the back.
They scarcely lift their heels in walking, and so they have a
shuffling gait.
RUTH S. BROOKE, R.T.L.
THE BISHOP'S HOUSE, GUTHRIE, OKLAHOMA.
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* * * * *
BEAUTIFUL.
"It must be lovely up here in winter," said Pollie to the farmer's wife.
"Why do you think that?" asked the good old lady.
"Oh, because--you have so many cows, I should think you'd have all the
ice-cream you want."
* * * * *
A FATIGUING DAY.
"I'm very tired to-night," said Howard.
"What have you been doing?"
"Oh, I've been helping mow the hay," said Howard. "Why, I sat on Mr.
Hayseed's lap and drove the horses that pulled the mower for two hours."
* * * * *
A LITTLE GIRL'S TRIBUTE.
"Mollie," said Mr. Hicks to his little daughter, as he sat down in the
farm-house, "whom do you love best in all the world?"
"Mrs. Farmer," said Mollie. "Because, you know, at home, papa, I love
mamma very much and cook very much, and here Mrs. Farmer is sort of
both."
* * * * *
A WINDY-DAY THOUGHT.
"The wind's a fast reader,"
Said Tommy; "just look
How the breeze turns over
The leaves of my book!"
* * * * *
BOBBIE MAKES A SUGGESTION.
"I say, Poppy, why do they call mucilage mucilage?"
"What would you have them call it?"
"Gluecilage."
* * * * *
A CHANGE OF VIEW.
"Want to go home, Charlie? Why, my dear little boy, I thought you told
me yesterday that you thought the farm was the only place to live?"
"W-well, I dud-did," sobbed Charlie. "But to-to-day I--"
"Well, go on, little man. What did you do?"
"To-to-to-day I sus-sat dud-d-d-down on a pup-pitchfork!"
* * * * *
A GREAT GAME.
"Why, Jacky, open the door and let Katie in. Don't you see it's
raining?" cried Jacky's mother.
"I can't, mamma," said Jacky. "We are playing Noah's Ark. I'm Noah, and
Katie is the sinners, and she must stay out in the wet."
* * * * *
A NATURAL REQUEST.
Jimmie had been told that his father went to town every day to make
bread for the family. One day he was allowed to go to his father's
office for him.
"Now, Poppie," he said, as soon, as they arrived, "bring out the dough."
* * * * *
JUST LIKE ME.
"You ought to come up and see our new baby," said Mattie. "He's
perfectly beautiful."
"What does he look like?" asked Harry.
"Just like me," said Mattie.
* * * * *
One of our American line steamers landed its passengers in New York the
other day after dusk. Among them was a son of Ireland, who, after hearty
greetings from his friends, started to walk up one of the thoroughfares
to see the great city of New York. His friends lost no opportunity to
point out the wonders of the metropolitan city, and in a short time they
had the poor fellow simply dazed with admiration and wonder, and willing
to believe anything they told him. Suddenly he caught sight of a street
arc light on its pole, and pulling up short, he grasped the arms of his
friends nearest him, and exclaimed, "Faith, it's wonders and wonders,
shure; if my eyes don't decave me yez have the moon stuck on a stick
beyant there."
* * * * *
PERCY AT CAPE COD.
"This bluefish yawning on the beach,
And jumping round head first,
Is either very sleepy, or
He's dying of his thirst."
* * * * *
THE RECEIPT.
"My Papa makes lots of money," said Wallie.
"What out of?" asked Johnnie.
"Soap," said Wallie.
"Pooh!" said Johnnie. "You can't make money out o' soap. Money's made o'
gold and paper and silver."
* * * * *
THE LUMPS.
Helen had the mumps, of which she seemed very proud, but she didn't
quite get the name right.
"I can't come over and play with you," she called out of the window to
Jimmieboy, "because I've got the lumps."
And it seemed all right, because she really had lumps on her cheeks.
End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, August 25, 1896, by Various