The Dalles times-mountaineer. (The Dalles, Or.) 1882-1904, May 17, 1898, WOMAN'S EDITION, Page 10, Image 10

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WOMAN'S EDITION THE DALLES TIMES-MO U1JTAINEER
CHILDREN'S PAGE
EDITED BY MISS CAROLYN W. KETCHUJ1.
WILLIE'S TEA PARTY.
'Tis Willie's birthday and you nee
Three little boys come in to tea;
But oh ! how very sad to tell,
They have not been behaving well.
The little boy whose name was Ned,
He wanted jelly on his bread.
The little boy whose name was Sam,
He vowed he would have damson jam.
The little bov whose name was Phil,
Said, "I'll have honey! Yes, I will!"
But '
The little boy whose name was Paul,
While they were quarrelling, ate it all.
Old Aunt Susan's May-Basket.
Margaret, and Mildred were sitting on
the floor of the sewing-roonij in the
midst of heaps of fluffy tarletan, with
berry boxes and paste-board boxes of all
sizes and sorts scattered about in hope
less confusion.
"Mamma, let's hang a May-basket
for old Aunt Susan," said Mildred.
"Oh, yes, Milly, a green one with cow
slips in it," eagerly cried Meg, ever
ready to help and always thinking up
some one's 'preferences. Now, Aunt
Susan was a poor old women who lived
at the edge of Oldtown and quite alone.
She had lost her husband and sons long
ago and had lived by herself ever since.
She sewed, nursed, and in fact did most
anything one wanted done, and thus
kept the wolf from the door. She could
tell the most wonderful stories about
the little fairies that live everywhere
in the woods and in the green grass
right at one's door, and everywhere one
looks good or bad, just as we feel.
All the children, far and near, loved
her; and Milly and Meg loved her very
, dearly for they knew her very well.
"I think it would be nice," said Mrs.
Lott, "to hang a basket for Aunt Susan,
and a very pretty idea to fill it with cow
slips, as she is so fond of them. Shall
you-oh, Harry, we were speaking of
May-baskets; the giris will make, one
for Aunt Susan." Said the son of the
house, barely eleven, "Why, mamma,
jt's so silly ! Why don't you have the
girls do something worth while. Bob
A ram said toaay, ne aicurt jcnow 01 a
more silly thing than hanging May
baskets." And this small man who
had lately begun to affect a great . scorn
for all old home customs, because Bob
Train, his chum, and whose mother
found little time to bestow upon him,
thought it "silly for boys to do such
girl-baby things."
But Harry's mother found a great
deal of time to spend with her children,
so understood them well, and she knew
that Harry, in spite of his fine scorn for
such "silly" things as May-baskets,
thoroughly enjoyed hanging them. So
she wisely ignored the allusion to Bob
Train's idea of the matter and contin
ued helping the little girls plan their
work. , Meantime, our friend Harry
stayed in the sewing-room, probably
wondering if Bob Train was right after
all, for Harry had always helped with
the baskets, too, and it had been such
jolly fun to think up some good joke for
somebody's basket. ,
"I think we might place a May "box"
as well as hang a basket. We could put
in a package of tea and some coffee, and
wrap them in tissue paper, and wrap
them lots, so it will be such : a surprise
when she opens each one, "mamma.",
"Yes, Meg, and we can put in some
of the black walnuts we gathered last
fall, too," said. Milly. "And," contin
ued mamma, "potatoes, and some rhu
barb, rice and a little of several things
that she can use." -
"Oh, mamma, can't we give her the
little shawl she wants so much? It's
only a dollar, and it's such a pretty
little brown and white one." ."Well,
Milly, how much money have you in
your bank? and you, Meg?" . Out they
flew, upsetting work-baskets and what
not in their eager haste. "Twenty
eight cents is all I have," ruefully ex
claimed Meg. VAnd I have only thirty
six," said Mildred. "Mamma, 1 will
have 50 cents in mine after I pay for my
foot'ball, "'and we can just take , that, 1
don't want it anyhow," -added Harry
carelessly. "Then that's settled," said
mamma, accepting Harry's aid without
a word of surprise. Then they all talked
about Aunt Susan's box, every minute
thinking of something to add to it,
when sudden ly mamma said, "but it
will be so heavy, do you suppose Bob
Train will help you carry it, Harry?"
'Yes'm I will, Mrs. Lott, and I'd like
to put in a spool of thread, or or
something too, for Susan sewed me all
up nice one time when I was afraid ma
would scold me 'cause I tore my coat,"
said Bob, who had come in search of
Harry, and had stood at the door a few
moments unobserved.
The next night being May-day night
and time for all May-day fairies to be at
work, the four, Milly, Meg, Hrry and
Bob. started gaily out with a pretty
basket in each hand; some full of flow
ers, others with popped corn and candy,
and some with candy dolls and all sorts
of funny jokes. Oh, such fun as it waa,
hanging a basket on a door-knob, ring
ing the bell and then scurrying away.
Of course each door was quickly opened
for what boy or girl doesn't watch the
bell on May-night and the pursuit be
gan. But our boys and girls were swift
runners and were not once caught; so
they were soon through, all but hanging
Aunt Susan's. And, of course they must
go home for those.
How excited they grew as they neared
her house ! Would she be away from
home? No; there was a light in the
window. Softly, softly they tip-toed up
the gravelled walk to the step, then
when the basket was carefully hung and
the box placed on the top step, all but
Harry hid behind the large elm trees in
the yard so they could see Susan when
she should discover the things. Harry
rapped loudly, then he, too, hurried be
hind a tree.
In another moment the door opened
and there stood Susan, expecting to see
some one, for Susan had not thought of
May-baskets.
After peering about and seeing no one
she glanced down and was more amazed
than before.
"Lawsy me! Dew tell! The fairies
have been around for certain sure. A
rale big May-barsket for old Susan !
Well, well; humph my, but it's heavy !
Dear me, what am I a breshin agin?
Lawsy, another! a rale barsket this
time and cowslips! Bless the child's
heart, that's Meg's doin's. I told her
oncet about little Sam's a likin' of 'em
so. Well, I'm that proud, now !
And then she closed the door and
they couldn't hear another wortl, but
they could see her through tke window,
and she looked quite "that proud" as
she took package after package out of
the box and unfolded its many wrap
pings ; for Meg had insisted they must
be done up very much.
As they came to Bob Train's gate, he
said, "say, let's hang 'em every year."
C. W. K. "
WHAT HE SAW.
One little star came out to see
How fair the night was going to be.
He smiled at the church and at the
steeple,
He peeped at the homes and at the
: people.
He saw and heard somebody cry,
And back he popped into the sky.
"Oh, donrt come out !" cried the little
star,
It's much more pleasant where we
are.
Selected.
"Tree Top" and "SeamyBark."
"Oh, how joyful it is to, feel that I'm
still of some use in the world,' - squeaked
Edna's doll-cradle, as she rocked it to
and fro. '
"Well, it's all very well to feel so
about the matter, but I'd far rather be
growing in my old place on 'Castle
Oak, in the woods where little Mabel
used to play under its shade," grumbled
Lois' cradle.
"That sounds very interesting, tell us
about your Miss Mabel, old grumbler."
"Well, Mr. Scoffer, then I will, since
you're so kindly interested. I grew
near the base of 'Castle Oak' for full
three feet upwards, and was always
broad and strong and dressed in the
lovliest rough bark, so thick, and draped
in so many folds, that little blue-eyed
Mabel chose me as the best one of all
for the walls of her own castle room ;
for she found the style of my cloak just
;ght for her tapestries.
She iet :tn her china in one place,
hung her pit tine- in another and made
of Boots and me just as cos-y a little
home as you'd see in many a day's
journey. Every sunshiny day she came
to p ay beneath old 'Castle's' shade and
told us about her plans, and made us
everyone, Roots, Branch, Trunk and
even Leaves feel that we. were doing a
-noble thing to grow, that we might thus
give pleasure to so fair a queen.
"Old Tree Top whimpered down to
Roots and me one night, that the wind
had told him sad news : That 'Castle
Oak,' as sweet little Mabel had called
us all, was to be cut down the next
morning, for we had been ."old to a man
who wanted fine oak for cabinet making.
" 'Twas a great blow to us all ; we had
grown there for so many years, a pet
for more than one ; the king of the for
est, and now to be hewn down and sent
adrift, after being.pierced by nails, torn
by many saws and scraped and polished
until we wouldn't recognize each other.
To leave the birds that had nested for
generations in our Branches, and our
old friend the Wind, whom we loved in
spite of his many moods his tempests
and his whispered confidences equally
dear, our coats to be stripped off, our
selves dismembered and at a cabinet
makers mercy!
"The men appeared before us early in
the morning of that fresh June day, and
began their torturesome work. I will
spare you the details of all that has
come to me since then, but must tell
you that little Mabel cried out her child
ish grief on poor old Stumo and said she
would never, never love another tree as
she did old 'Castle Oak.' "
"Well, well, my friend," said Mr.
Scoffer in a husky voice, "your story is
very sad ; but can't you be satisfied with
the joy you afford little Miss Lois, and
be glad you have met so happy a fate
instead of being used for stove-wood as
if fit for nothing better?" Oh, don't
preach," snapped Grumbler, "no doubt
I 'could have been more badly used."
"I see, old chap, you're a little under
the serf today, but come, listen to this
little mother's happy chatter and be
thankful."
It is the story hour.
"Come, bring your dollies' cradles,
now, sweeties, and mamma will tell you
about the queer bye-lo cradles she had
when she was a little girl," said the
mother of these little friends of ours,
Edna and Lois.
"When I was a wee child like you,
little girls, my mamma took me to visit
grandpa, who still lived in the country
on the farm where she had lived as a
child. I had so many dollies, just as
you girlies have, but unlike you, I had
no cradle. Grandpa was going to make
me one, but one day when I was picking
wild flowers in the grove down in the
hill-pasture, I sat down to rest under a
great oak tree, with great big roots that
grew partly out of the ground and made
such cosy looking nooks Detween each
other and the tree.
"The tree on the shady side had such
nice seamy bark, too, that I could stick
my flowers in it, and I idly poked them
here and there until as high as I could
reach, the bark was stuck full of them.
It was such a cosy little place that I
made it my play house. I put my bits
of china and glass and my cut-out pic
tures in that pretty piece of bark, laid
my doll-babies in those root cradles and
had the cosiest little house that ever
was seen. There were no little children
at grandpa's for me to play with, so the
oak and I became very fond friends. I
told it all my secrets, and gave it a name,
and told it to be my castle for I was a
princess fair ; and its bows must be my
many rooms, its leaves my servants, its
twigs my gallant knights.
"I was very happy with my dear old
friend, the King Oak; ("Oh," said
Scoffer sadly to Grumbler, "I had be
gun to think I was listening to your lit
tle Mabel's story of 'Castle Oak'
"S-s-sh, listen, murmered grumbler in
bated breath.") and felt very snre he
thought as much of me, and never once
dreamed that our good times were to be
ended soon. But one morning 'twas
almost half noon when I started to my
play-house under dear old 'Castle Oak'
Lois, how your cradle does squeak ! :
Stop rocking it for a bit, Sear ; ("Con
trol yourself, old boy," anxiously cau
tioned Scoffer.) and little girlies! my
dear old friend lay on the ground, my
airy castle cast down ; my knights, many
of them crushed, my rooms topsy-turvy,
my servants sadly agitated,' my ' old
friend Roots forlorn ; my castle-turret
Tree top (so high it took brave knights
a lifetime to reach it,) lying as low as
Stump itself ; and dear old Seamy Bark,
my tapestry, sawned off. For, chidren
dear, the tree was sold to a man who
uses fine wood for making beautiful fur
niture a cabinet maker; and only
Stump and Roots were left."
"Oh. mamma, do you think Castle
Oak grieved, too, like you did."
"I don't know, dearie, we'll talk about
it another time, for I've told you a long
story and it's far and away past girlies'
bed time now, so no more tonight.
Soon silence reigned in the nursery.
But what was that, a mouse squeak
ing? No ; but Grumbler's tearful, happy
voice. "Dear old Solomon, for I cannot
call you Scoffer now. it is more than I
deserve ; at last, after lying at the old
cabinet-maker's so many years unused,
neglected, to be thus brought to this
glorious use a cradle for little Mabel's
own blue-eyed child! But you have
taught me a lesson, and I think my un
merited happiness has made me humble
at last "
"Well, o'd chap, I guess it would seem
more homey if you were to call me Tree
Top instead of the fond names you've
given me, for claim identity with old
'Castle Oak Turret.' "
C. W. K.
HOW TO DO IT.
Jack Spride
Liked nothing fried.
Which made his faithful wife decide
To boil the doughnuts quick and hard.
In a pot of hot and hissing lard.
He found them on the pantry shelf,
And ate them, holes and all, himself.
VI can't abide a thing that's fried,
But these are boiled,"
Quoth Mr. Spride.
Axna M. Pbatt.
Auntie Maud's Story.
. 'Twas such a dark and stormy after
noon, and though it was only three
o'clock, the children were tired of their
play and were longing for something to
do, when Dorothy happened to think of
Auntie Maude. Away she ran to find
her and to beg her to to tell them a
story. At last she found her in the
library and exclaimed, "a story, a story
about a girl, Auntie Maude !"
"No, about a boy," said Roll.
"A story of 'venture," teased Rob.
"But why not one of a girl and a boy
and a ' 'venture,' too," asked Auntie
Maude.
And this is the story she told ; a true
story, too.
"When Joe and Sue Watson Were 9
and 6 years old, their parents moved to
Kansas to live out on. a ranch. This
was a very great change for them all,
for they went to western Kansas, where
there were no trees, just sand-bills,
grass, thistles and cactus ; and no pretty
little runs or brooks like they used to
wade in on grandpa's farm. But Joe
and Sue found a great deal to interest
them in their new home, and so did not
miss companions as they had expected
to, for there were no boys or girls for
them to play with as their nearest neigh
bor lived five miles away.
"The sod corral and sod stables were
being built when , they arrived, and it
was such fun to watch Jim Crow plow
ing up the sod and to ride behind, his
oxen when they hauled the big pieces of
turf to the spot. One ox was "Cherry"
and the other he called "Buck ;" it
amused the children very much to hear
him call out "Gee, Cherry" and "Haw,
Buck" and to see them turn to the right
or left as he had said. .
"Other men were at work digging a
great big well, and when it was finished
they put in a wind-mill and built long
troughs for the sheep to drink from
when the wind-mill pumped the water.
All over the prairies were hollows, long
and broad, which were called "buffalo
wallows," because they had been made
by the herds of buffalo, wallowing to
brush away the flies and mosquitoes and
to shed their coats ; for you must re
member, there were no trees or such
things for them tp rub against. Those
wallows were made when millions of
buffalo roamed over the plains.
"Joe and Sue often pretended the buf
falo were stampeding straight toward
their well and would hide in the "dug
out," that wasn't far away, and would
imagine a!l sorts of fanciful things; and
sometimes they would seem so very reat
that. Sue would et a bit nervous and
suggest they play something else.
"The great flocks of sheep and the
bands of wild horses, and the many
herds of cattle and antelope appeared
very wonderful to these eastern children
and afforded them a few adventures,,
too. Would you like to hear about their
two small carriage horses? They were
such pretty little bays, Baby and Ray.
They were used for nothing but driving
and for the children to ride, and were
given the best of care. The children
petted them a great deal and were very
fond of them indeed. When summer
came. Joe and Sue went most every
evening with their father to picket the
horses out on some hill-side for the night.
One morning they were nowhere to be
seen and could not be found even after
a dilligent search ; and every one sup
posed the band of wild horses had coaxed
them to run away from their kind little
friends.
"The children were very lonesome for
a long time no Baby or Ray to feed,
no nice pet horse to ride or drive.
"But sometime the next winter after
Joe and Sue had gone back east to stay,
a man found both of the horses with a
a band of wild horses he had captured ;
and he first recognized them by the old
tattered halter on Ray, and when he
saw the other bay horse so very like,
which kept so near the "halter-horse,"
he knew for certain who they were.
The children never saw them again, but
were very glad to hear of their being
such good friends still.
"Once Mr. Watson took a trip to-Colorado,-
and when he returned he
brought each of the children a young
magpie. Their chatter, chatter, chatter
was very amusing to the children, and
when a ranch neighbor told them the
magpies would learn to talk if their
tongues were slit, they thought them
the most wonderful pets they had ever
had- But their tongues were never
slit ; and not very long after the birds
were brought to them, Jen fell into the
rain-barrel and was drowned. 1 Poor
Mag grieved for her companion and re
fused to be comforted. She would sit
on the peak of the wood-house roof and
wouldn't even come down to eat or
drink. But after a time she seemed
more cheerful and came down to eat
and would let the children pet her as
before But there came a sad day when
Mag flew away with a flock of magpies.
"One afternoon when Mr. and Mrs.
Watson had driven to the town, and
the herders were all out with the sheep,
Joe said. 'I'm tired of staying in the
house, let's go out and slide off of the
hay-stack." And so Sue hurried into
her little red coat and hood, and off
they ran to the stock, which stood near
the sod corral. You know what , fun it
is sliding off the hay, and what warm
cozy play it is for a cold, windy day, so
you can understand how they failed to
realize that the sun was sinking low and
that they should be in the house. Just
as they were ready for another slide
they heard thud, thud, thud on the
ground and looking up saw a cow come
pelting across the prairie almost by the
house. They soon found that she was
after water and was running straight to
the troughs But when she saw the
children on the stack, she was startled
and alarmed almost as wild animals are
at the sight of a man, and stopped with
head in air and giving an angry snort
seemed to demand of them their busi
ness there. Joe loved to tease, and
knowing how afraid Sue was of cows,
thought he would tease her. So he
waved and waved her red hood on the
pitch-fork to attract the cow's attention
and succeeded in a way he did not an
ticipate ; for the cow came tearing over
to the stack and with angry bellowings
pawed and hooked the hay. Joe wished
he hadn't been so mischievous: but he
saw a way out of the danger if they
were very quick. They jumped from
the opposite side of the stack into the
corral and scooted across into the stable,
where they stayed until their father
came home. . By that time the cow had
gone away and only the trampled stack,
showed in what danger they had been.
But you may guess that Sue was ever