Part 6 (1/2)

CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON.

Moses was a camel that traveled o'er the sand.

Of the desert, fiercely hot, way down in Egypt-land; But they brought him to the Fair, Now upon his hump, Every child can take a ride, Who can stand the b.u.mpity-b.u.mp.

PROPHECIES.

Little blue egg, in the nest snug and warm, Covered so close from the wind and the storm, Guarded so carefully day after day, What is your use in this world now, pray?

”Bend your head closer; my secret I'll tell: There's a baby-bird hid in my tiny blue sh.e.l.l.”

Little green bud, all covered with dew, Answer my question and answer it true; What were you made for, and why do you stay Clinging so close to the twig all the day?

”Hid in my green sheath, some day to unclose, Nestles the warm, glowing heart of a rose.”

Dear, little baby-girl, dainty and fair, Sweetest of flowers, of jewels most rare, Surely there's no other use for you here Than just to be petted and played with, you dear!

”Oh, a wonderful secret I'm coming to know, Just a baby like me, to a woman shall grow.”

Ah, swiftly the bird from the nest flies away, And the bud to a blossom unfolds day by day, While the woman looks forth in my baby-girl's eyes, Through her joys and her sorrows, her tears and surprise-- Too soon shall the years bring this gift to her cup, G.o.d keep her, my woman who's now growing up!

BY KATHRINE LENTE STEVENSON.

Who said that I was a naughty dog, And could not behave if I tried?

I only chewed up Katrina's French doll, And shook her rag one until it cried.

WHY HE WAS WHIPPED.

He was seven years old, lived in Cheyenne, and his name was Tommy.

Moreover he was going to school for the first time in his life. Out here little people are not allowed to attend school when they are five or six, for the Law says: ”Children under seven must not go to school.”

But now Tommy was seven and had been to school two weeks, and such delightful weeks! Every day mamma listened to long accounts of how ”me and d.i.c.k Ray played marbles,” and ”us fellers cracked the whip.” There was another thing that he used to tell mamma about, something that in those first days he always spoke of in the most subdued tones, and that--I am sorry to record it of any school, much more a Cheyenne school--was the numerous whippings that were administered to various little boys and girls. There was something painfully fascinating about those whippings to restless, mischievous little Tommy who had never learned the art of sitting still. He knew his turn might come at any moment and one night he cried out in his sleep: ”Oh, dear, what will become of me if I get whipped!” But as the days pa.s.sed on and this possible retribution overtook him not, his fears gradually forsook him, and instead of speaking pitifully of ”those poor little children who were whipped,” he mentioned them in a causal off-hand manner as, ”those cry-babies, you know?” One afternoon mamma saw him sitting on the porch, slapping his little fat hand with a strap. ”Tommy, child, what in the world are you doing?” she asked.

Into his pocket he thrust the strap, and the pink cheeks grew pinker still as their owner answered:

”I--I--was just seeing--how hard I could hit my hand--without crying;”

and he disappeared around the side of the house before mamma could ask any more questions.

The next day Tommy's seatmate, d.i.c.ky Ray, was naughty in school, and Miss Linnet called him up, opened her desk, took out a little riding whip--it was a bright blue one--and then and there administered punishment. And because he cried, when recess came, Tommy said: ”Isn't d.i.c.k Ray just a reg'lar girl cry-baby?” (He had learned that word from some of the big boys, but, mind you! he never dared to say it before his mother.)

d.i.c.k's face flushed with anger. ”Never you mind, Tommy Brown,” said he, ”Just wait till you get whipped and we'll see a truly girl-cry-baby then, won't we, Daisy?”

And blue-eyed Daisy, who was the idol of their hearts, nodded her curly little head in the most emphatic manner, and said she ”wouldn't be one bit s'prised if he'd holler so loud that hey would hear him way down in Colorado.”

Tommy stood aghast! for, really and truly, he wasn't quite so stony-hearted a little mortal as he appeared to be; he had been secretly rather sorry for d.i.c.k, but--he wanted Daisy to think that he himself was big and manly, and he had the opinion that this was just the way to win her admiration. But all this time HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT DAISY DID--that d.i.c.k's pockets were full of sugar-plums; tiptop ones too, for Daisy had tasted them, and knew that little packets of them would from time to time find their way into her chubby hand.

All the rest of the morning Tommy kept thinking, thinking, thinking.

One thing was certain: the present situation was not to be endured one moment longer than was absolutely necessary. But what could he do?