Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 August 1893 — OUR BOYS AND GIRLS. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

OUR BOYS AND GIRLS.

•■HIS IS THEIR DEPARTMENT OF THE PAPER. Quaint Sayings and Cate Doings of the little Folks Everywhere, Gathered and Printed Here for AU Other little Ones to Bead. Old-Fashioned Cradle at the Fair. Now, girls and boys, when you see all the toys That are shown at the great World’s Fair, Pray hunt up a cradle, a dear little cradle. An old-fashioned cradle that's them And look at it well, so that you may tell The people who do not know

How cradles were made in which babies were laid A long, long time ago. This one Is of wood, all strong and good: It has lasted for many a day, And will always be treasured, while time Is measured, For in It a President lay. Can you tell me his name? It Is linked with fame— His father was President, too; And the Old Bay State had the honor great Of giving these statesmen two Won’t I tell It? Why, yes, if you’re sure you can’t guess; It was John Quincy Adams, good man. Who was rocked In this cradle, this oldfashioned cradle. When Its history began. And his children, too. and all babies new, That into that family came, With their laughter and and tears, for a hundred years. Were rocked In it just the same. —Julia Wolcott In Little Men and Women. After tlie Circus. Well, what do you think our little girl dreamed One night when she got Into bed? She had been to the circus, and all that She saw was bobbing ab iut In her head. The tall giraffes and kangaroo. The elephant, and the monkey-*, too. The horrible ape and the mooly cow,

The stupid turtles that didn’t kuow liow To crawl from under the ostrlchVfeet And nearly got crushed Into fine mincemeat Oh! these are tho things that one and all Politely came to return her call, And say good-night to the little girl Who calmly slumbered amid the whirl Of all she s iv at the circus that day When sho watched the “menageile folks” at play. —Little Men and Women. Dandy's Comfortable House. Of course most of you have seen dogs that had houses of their own, warm, comfortable kennels, but it is not likely that many of you have ever heard of a dog with a home with windows and doors, colored glass, and a sign—in fact, a complete cottage, with all modern improvements—for dogs. There is such a dog, though, and such a house up in Somerville, Mass., anti not long ago the Boston Globe sent an artist up there to get a picture of Dandy and his property. Dandy is a fat little pug,-7 years old, and his master and mistress are very fond of him. He has many other friends, too, among them a carriage builder, who has of late been spending his spare time putting Dandy’s house together. It is a perfect model of a full-sized dwelling, and stands between 3 and 4 feet in

height. Everything about the house is perfect Kn its way. The clap-boards and shingles are all of the right size, and fit into place exactly. There are over 3,000 shingles on the roof. One pair of window blinds contain more than 60 tiny slats, and have brass hinges and fastenings. The window panes are of glass, about IJx2s inches, and each window has a tty screen to keep the breeze away from Dandy when he sleeps in the afternoon. On the edges of the roof are little rain gutters, and there are spouts to carry off the water. Dundy's master is thinking of running a small steampipe to heat the house when cold weather comes, and he has started to put in an electric alarm to call the pug when he is wanted. Up in - the front of the gable is a round piece of colored glass, and across the front is the sign, “Dandy Cottage,” in ebony letters inlaid in tulip wood. The house is painted yellow, with white trimmings and a brown roof. The front door—of course Dandy doesn’t use it, as nearly half of one side of the house is removed to let him in and out —is fitted with brass knob, colored glass and a brass-handled bell. You may imagine that Dandy is proud of bis home and that he has lifted his short nose high above all other dogs that have no real estate. Naming the Babies. “Whatever shall I call them?” said little adoptive Mother Marguerite, fondly. Real Mother Ca + » looked a bit anxious. “I’ll ask tt» ladies,”

•aid Marguerite. “The ladies" were the four summer boarders. Off from the vine-hung piazza and into the parlor went the two mothers with the babies. Those grown-up ladies tossed aside their fancy work and were down on the rug in a minute, stroking the wee kittens. “Let's each name one. This shall be Buttercup.” Buttercup had blotches of yellow. “This is Thelma,” said the next lady, who was rather romantic and had just read a book with that title. Marguerite thought they were nice names, Buttercup especially. Her heart stood quite still, though, when the other two were named “Moses" . and “Nebuchadnezzar.” “I’ll n£ter; call them so,” she thought. The kit- i tens throve as if no big names! weighted them. They became Neb and Mose “for short.” The four were such frisky, rollicking things. Every day they had a frolic in the parlor, because it amused the summer boarders. This is a true story. While I tell It, says Helen Hawley, in the St. Louis Republic, the little adopted mother’s lap is empty, and the real Mother Cat is lonely, because her

children have done that sad thing which children persist in doing—they have grown up. Mabel’s Grandpa. Mr. Bennett is a bright and wellpreserved old gentleman, but to his little granddaughter, Mabel, he seems very old indeed. She had been sitting on his knee and looking at him seriously for some moments one day, when she said, “Grandpa, were you in the ark?” “Why, no, my dear!” gasped the astonished grandparent. Mabel’s eyes grew large and round with astonishment. “Then why weren’t you drowned?” she asked.

THE CRADLE IN WHICH JOHN QUINCE ADAMS WAS ROCKED.

DANDY AND HIS HOUSE.