Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 40, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 October 1895 — FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS. [ARTICLE]

FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS.

miss fkxt and miss laugh. Cries little Miss Fret, Id a very great pet: “I hate this warm weather; it’s horrid to tan. It scorches my nose. And it blisters my toes. And wherever I go I must carry a fan." Chirps little Miss Laugh: “Why, 1 couldn’t tell half The fun I am having this bright summer day. I sing through the hours, And cull pretty flowers. And ride like a queen in the sweet-smell-ing hay." —[Margaret E. Sangster. BRIGHT SPOTS. Once upon a time, so the story goes, *wo sailors were shipwrecked upon an unknown coast, and waudered around for many hours without finding any truce, of huinun habitation. Finally, when upon the verge of despair, one of them caught sight of a gallows erected by the roadside. "Tlmnk goodness, Jim," he cried, in rapture, “here is u gallows! We are in a civilized country!" Tile melancholy point to this story is the fact that a gallows, like a jail, does mark civilization. Savages have uo use for either; they visit condign punishment on their enemies and malefactors or they do not punish them at all. It is a mournful subject for reflection that a portion of the community must, be imprisoned like wild beasts to protect houest people, but there is h bright side, after all. “There are many Americans," says Edward Everett Hale, “who forget, or perhaps never knew, that there are in this countryirfiWffirand villages where, practically spettkiug, there is uo criminal class, and no class of paupers. The house of correction In many a county in America is empty half the time. There is many a poorhouse in New England where they take glimmer boarders because they have no one else to take.” A HOY ON THE KAIi.M. It is quite likely that no country boy needs to be told about the life of a boy on a furm, but he limy more truly realize his own importance by reading what Charles Dudley Warner says about him. "It is iny Impression,'’ says Mr. Warner, "that a farm without a hoy would soon come to grief. What a boy does is the life of the furm lie is the factotum, always iu demand, and always expected to do the thousand and one things that nobody else will do. Upon him fall the odds iiud ends, the most difficult things. After everybody else Is through he is to finish up. llis work is like a woman’s—perpetually waiting on others. Everybody knows how much easier it is to cook a good dinner than to wash the dishes afterward. "Consider what a l>oy on a farm is required to do—things that must he done, or life would actually stop. It is understood, in the first place, that ho is to do all the errands, to go to the store, to the postolfice, and to carry all sorts of messages. If he had as many legs as the centipod they would tire before night. “lie is the one who spreads the grass as the men out it; he stows it away iu the burn; he rides the horse to cultivate the corn up and down the hot. weary rows; he brings wood and water and splits kindling; lie gets up the horse and turns out the horse. Whether lie is in the house or out of the house there is always something to do. Just before school in the winter lie shovels paths; ami In the summer he turns the grindstone. And yet, witli his mind full of schemes of what he would like to do, and his hands full of occupation, lie is an idle boy who has nothing to busy himself with but schools and chores. He would gladly do all tho work if somebody else would do all the chores, he thinks: and yet 1 doubt if any hoy ever amounted to anything in the world, or was of much use as a niun, who did not enjoy the advantages of a llbcrul education in the way of chores." now WOLVES HUNT IN INDIA. One strongly-marked characteristic common to dogs and wolves is their skill iu trailing and running down game, iu couples or packs. Such a wolf hunt In India Is described by an English traveler, who, while with his telescope watching u herd of antelope feeding in a large field, observed six wolves evidently concerting how best to secure their own breukfast. Having decided on their plan of campaign. they separated, leaving one stationary. Four crept stealthily round the outer edge of the field, and one lay in ambush in each corner, while the sixth crept through a furrow to the middle of the field and there lay down unobserved. When all were thus posted, the first wolf suddenly showed himself, ami, charging the antelopes, drove them right across the greut field, when they were headed by another wolf, who chased them in a fresh direction, while the first hunter lay down to rest. No sooner had the frightened herd reached the further corner of the plain than lip sprang a fresh wolf, who again turned them and took up the pursuit, leaving His panting accomplice to take breath, preparatory to another chase. Tims the luckless, terrified antelopes were driven from corner to corner of the great plain, till, stupefied and exhausted, they crowded together, galloping In ever lessening circles round the center of the field, where the sixth wolf lay hidden, evidently waiting till they should be so effectually tired out as to fall an easy prey. His calculations, however, were at fault, not having reckoned on the human presence, and just as he was preparing for the final spring, a well-directed shot proved fatal to the nearest wolf, whereupon all the confederates took the hint and scurried off with all possible speed.

A LITTLE PBINCESB. The exiled King of France, Charles X, was then resident in Holyrood Palace with his two grandchildren—the Due de Bordeaux, afterward known as the Comte de Chambord; and his sister, Louise, who was never designated otherwise than as Mademoiselle. Their governess, the Duchesse de Gontaut, was a friend of my mother’s, and, as it was thought desirable that the royal children should have some young companions, we were selected to associate with them, and frequently went to them at Holyrood, while they were often also in viterl to our house. Mademoiselle especially enjoyed coming to us, away from all the stiffness of court etiquette, and also ibecause she had a quite romantic attachment to one of my sisters, Sir Walter’s Curlinda. On one occasion, when she cnme> ut without her brother, we got leave to make' our escajH! from the solemnity of the drawing-room, where Mine, de Gontaut was seated with my mother, and we all ran off together to amuse ourselves in some other room. We chose my father’s study as the scene of our exploits, know-

tog that he had gone ouL Arriving there, mv sister suggested that as Mademoiselle was sure to be a queen some day we had better erect a throne for her on the top of tbe writing-table and duly install her in it The youug princess was a very clever, thoughtful child, and tier words were characteristic: “Ah, friend! who can say whether hi tbe future I shall be a poor little queen or a magnificent beggar!” As a matter of fact, she became Duchess of Parma. But we carried out our design of treating her as a future monarch; by means of a pile of cushions on the study table, we raised a very satisfactory throne and placed her upon it Then I believe one of us acted as principal lady-in-wuit-ing. and formally presented the others, who made profound courtesies, and were received by the princess with becoming, dignity. In the midst of this little court drama the door opeued, and my father walked in. not being even aware that there were any visitors in the house, and lie stopped in some surprise to contemplate the scene.