OUR YOUNG FOLKS

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXVII, Issue 3502, 28 March 1905, Page 4

OUR YOUNG FOLKS

THE CONCEITED MOUSE. A Lively Tale From Rt. Nicholas, In Which a Moral May IJo Found, if Wanted. Once upon ntimu there u;. : a very small mouse with a very, very largo opinion of himself. What ho didn’t know his grandmother couldn't tell him. “You’d better keep a bright eyo in your head these days,” said sho one chilly afternoon. “Your gran’ther has smelled a trap.” “Scat!” answered tho small mouse, ** *s If I don’t know a trap when I sea Itl” And that was all tho thanks she got for her good advice. “Go your own way, for you will go no Other," tho wise old mouse said to herself,

“TOUR QBAN’THEB HAS SMELLED A TRAP.” and she scratched her nose slowly and sadly as she watched her grandson scamper up the cellar stairs. “Ah,” sniffed ho, poking his whiskers Into a crack of tho dining room cupboard, “cheese, as I’m nllvel" Scuttle, scuttle. “I’ll bo squizzled if it isn’t that cunning little housol I know what that Is a oheesohouso, of course! What a very snug hall! That’s the way with cheesehouses. I know, ’cause I’ve hoard the dairymaid talk nhout 'em. It must be rather Inconvenient, though, to carry milk up that step and through an iron door. I know why It’s so open—to let in fresh air. I toll you that cheese Is good! Kind of a reception room In there. I guess I know a reception room from a hole in the wall. No trouble at all about getting In either. Wouldn’t grandmother open her eyes to gee me here! Guess I’ll take another nibble at that cheese and go out. What’s that noise? What in squeaks is the matter with the door? This Is a cheesehouse, 1 know It is, but what if it should turn out to be a— O-o-o-eeee!” And that’s Just what It did turn out to bo. Interesting Autographs. To scratch one’s name on a window pane Is a pastime familiar to most young folks and one in which it seems that the dignitaries of tho earth can find amusement too. On one of the windows of a railway carriage devoted to the exclusive use of the king of Denmark and his guests Is perhaps as curious a collection of these autographs as can anywhere be found. Every one of royal blood who travels In this oar Is expected to scratch his name with a diamond, and In consequence the glass Is scored with the sign manuals, most of them nearly undecipherable, of the majority of the princes and princesses of Europe as well as many crowned beads. Oeremony is entirely laid aside In this stately fooling, and the great ones are bound to sign their pet or family nickname. Consequently here may be seen the signatures: “Nicky,” tho present emperof of Russia} “Sacha,” the lata emperor; “Wlnny,” princess of Germany; “Bertie— Alls,” Prince and Princess of Wales; “Misha,”-grand Duke Michael of Russia; “Eddy,” late duke of Clarence; “Baby,” youngest sister of the czar; “Willy," Prince of Coburg; “Toria,” Duchess of York, and others quite as Informal. Aren’t We Heavy? Aren’t we heavy, Gyp and I? ; Don’t wo weigh a lot? i Mother let U 3 i Come and try One penny In the slot!

_ 1 should think 1 That we must weigh 'BE Seven hundred tons 1 They can’t get folks Like us each day. We’re very heavy ones I Foretelling the Weather. A Spanish journal tells of an interesting experiment to bo tried with a cup of clear coffee and a lump of sugar. The sugar should bo dropped into the coffee Without stirring. In n moment the air Contained in the sugar will rise to the surface in the shape of bubbles, and these bubbles are excellent weather indications. If they collect in the middle of the cup, A fair day follows; if, adversely, they adhere to the sides, forming a ring of bubbles with a clear space in the center, take your umbrella, for rain is at hand, while }f they do-neither one thing nor the other, bat scatter irregularly, variable weather !U Indicated. Just what Is the scientific explanation of the action of the atmosphere on the bubbles is not stated, bat that their indications curiously agree with those of a barometer has been tested.

HER WEDDING OUTFIf; What Olfl Man Boggs Thought ShaOngttl to Have. I was standing in front of the Pin® Mountain Lumber company’s store, situato on the upper waters of. the Cumberland, when old man Bo£gs ; came up from the sawmill on the bank of the 1 rtiver and approached me with some cfegreeof doubt, I thought, from his manner;. Seeing no one else around, he became eaeunrand greeted mo pleasantly. “How are you, Mr. Boggs? I said in return for his salutation. “Fine day. Any news up the mountain?” , "I’m tolllblo like, I reckon,” ho responded. “Nothin happenln our ' waymuch. But that ain’t what I wont to talk to you about, colonel,” ho added, i*-elQps-lag into the manner of doubt I thought I had observed at first. , “Well, what Is it? Any shooting goftng on or liable to?” "Reckon not. Most ttv the boys ha« gone to Loolsville fcr witr:—'"" * • moonshiners, and things is restin some.’ “Then what troubles you?” He up quite close to me and looked over his shoulder to be sure there was no one in hearing distance, except myself. “ Air you a married man, colonel!” he asked In a whisper, “I am not so fortunate, I admitted, with as much gallantry of manner and as pretty a candor as if a dozen women had boon there. “Then I reckon you ain’t much know m on slch things as bavin yer gala gettia married?” , _ “Hardly,” I confessed, with a smile. “Anyhow,” ho said resignedly, “you air old enough to be, and I want you to gimme a lift.” . ~ “How do you mean?” I inquired in surprise. “Don’t git skeert,” ho grinned. “It’s only my gal Susan.” "Oh,” I said in a tone of relief. “She s going to get married, Is she?” “Kinder that away. Lwant to git some wedding flxin’s and don’t want to git ’em frum the young feller In the store. Won’t you fix ’em up fer me?” “Certainly,” and we went in. “By the wav.” I inquired, “is Susan your oldest daughter?” “No; she is the youngest.” “Isn’t that rather cutting the others out?”

"I reckon not, ”he laughed. “ ?ou see, they take attor mo, and I didn’t git spliced till I was past 40. Susan takes atter her mammy. She got me afore she was SO. ’ He laughed again, and I laughed with him and threw out several pieces of dresa goods on the counter. “I suppose you want something white,” Isold, spreading the goods out so he could see the effect, ‘ ‘ That will be very nice for a bride." “What's the tax on it?” he asked, without touching it, showing that he was not versed in dry goods. “Two bits a yard.” “Gesmently gosh, colonel!” he exclaimed, starting back, “I can’t afford no such goods as that. SUka and eatings ain’t fer we uns. Hain’t you got some calico?” “Plenty of it,” I said, and I dumped! an armful down on the counter. “What’s this wuth?” he asked, picking out a bright yellow piece with a red vine trailing through it. “That’s 10 cents a yard, and it will orjy take ten yards for the pattern.” "That's|l, ain’t it?" he inquired, altera moment’s mental calculation. “Exactly.” 1 < Gimme that, colonel. Susan alius had a weakness fer yaller. It kinder matches her freckles, she says." I out off the amount called for and laid It aside.

"Now,” he said, “show me some shoes.” "What kind?" I asked, not caring to hazard my judgment again. “How do they run in price?"

“From |1.60 up.” “That’s pretty steep fer a gal that's been useter goln bar’footed, I reckon,” he mused, “but a gal don’t git hitched every day, and I s’poso I kin stand It. Jim’ll have to buy ’em fer her anyhow atter this. Lemme have one uvthem pa’r at a dollar fifty." “What size?”

“About sevens, I reckon,” he said. “Six Is her size In summer time, but gittin married Is makln her kinder proud and she says she’s goln to wear stookin’s, so you see, colonel, we’d better git ’em a size bigger to ’low fer the extry. ” 1 picked out a pair of No. 7’s, neat, but not gaudy, and laid them beside the calico. “Now,” I said, getting ready to show him a few other articles for a trousseau, “what else?" “What else is thar to git?” he asked In guileless astonishment. “Ain’t that enough weddln fizin’s fer any gal? Them cost fS.6O, didn’t they?" “Yes, but I thought she might want sometlhng else perhaps.” That remark didn’t begin to express all that was in my mind, but It was the beat I could do under the circumstances. “Likely she does," ha replied, “but it’s Jim’s turn to do the buyln now. I've done my sheer.” “When is the wedding?” I inquired as 3 wrapped up the trousseau I bad sold him. “It’s done tuck, ” he answered as though surprised at my question. 1 was puzzled to the full extent. “1 don’t understand what you mean,” 1 ■aid. “The weddln’s over,” he explained. “It tuck place yistlddy.” “But what are you getting these things for now?” 1 asked, more astonished than ever. “Caze, now’s the time,” he said, with a short laugh. “You don’t reckon I was goln to git all these yer weddln flxin’s aforeband and run the resk uv bavin the whole shootin match fiash in the pan, do you? Jim’s stiddy and shore footed, but Susan gits to steppln mighty high and actln frisky when she’s got good clo’s on to her back. She takes atter her mother, Susan does.” I hadn’t a word to say, of course, but as Mr. Boggs started out I handed him a holt of blue ribbon and told him to give it to the bride, with my compliments, without knowing exactly whether blue ribbon matched yellow calico with a red vine trolling through it or not. *4 '""•ok