Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 59, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 March 1910 — YOUNG FOLKS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

YOUNG FOLKS

The Way to Sckool. Five minutes chasing butterflies Way over, oft the road; Five minutes watching Willie Price Do tricks with his pet toad; Five minutes helping Gibbsie get His pig back in the pen— I wonder if it’s school-time yet? I guess I’m late again. I think I lost a little time Because I walked so Slow Where Johnny Watkins lost a dime A day or two ago. It’s underneath -the leaves somewhere, And Johnny feels so blue That I Just stopped a minute there Because he asked me ta And then it rained a little bit, And Dominick McPhee Had his straw hat, and had to sit Under a good thick tre6, Or else he’d get it spoiled and get The top all swelled. You see, A straw hat lq not safe to wet— His kind, especially. • And after* we had saved his hat From getting spoiled for him A big woodpecker came and sat Up on a rotten limb; And J.ohnny .said when they’re about, Somebody told the boys, You se« a lot of worms coma out To see what makes the noise. So then we boys all stayed about A couple minutes more, In hopes to see the worms come out Which he was rapping for; But after he went b-r-r-r and b-r-r-r A while, he flew away, And Johnny said he guessed there were No worms at hojne that day. So then we hurried up, and ran As fast as we could run. To get there just as school began. And Just when it's begun I had to run back to the tree To get my slate and rule; And yet the teacher cannot see Why boys are late for school! —Youth’s Companion.

A Home in an Old Fence Post. There was once a little mother, with a large family only her own hands to do for them all. They lived in an old fence post that had stood for so many years in the corner of an old field that everybody else had forgotten its existence. At the bottom of the post a colony of brown ants kept carrying grains of sand to the surface until a little mound was formed around their hole. But the little mother paid no more attention to the ants than if they had been a thousand miles away. I doubt if she knew of their existence. She was the busiest of busy people when she first found the post in early summer and decided to make her home there. She was all alone then, but she knew what she was about. She first bit a tiny scrap off the surface of the post. Then another and another. Finding it was just soft enough for her stout little jaws to work upon she tolled hour after hour until she had bored a tunnel down into the post. It was a smooth little tunnel, bigger than a lead pencil and not quite as long as a new one. Just think how long it must have taken her. Think how many weeks it would take you to dig a tunnel twelve times your own length and plenty wide enough for you to creep into! And you would have a shovel and a pick-axe and a cart to carry away the dirt. This little mother had only her own jaws to work with. I never heard that she complained a bit. She always worked as if she liked it. Do you think she sat down to rest when the tunnel was done and every scrap carried to the entrance and dropped to the ground? (I wonder If the brown ants ever thought It was raining sawdust). No rest Jor the little mother yet. She flew (for she had four wings) straight to the nearest garden, and found without delay a fine rose bush with thin leaves. Before you could wink twice she had snipped out an oval piece and was gone. At the very bottom of the tunnel In the old post she placed the bit of rose leaf, whirled away again to the very same bush, cut another oval to go with the first. So she continued until she had made of the pieces of rose leaves a little .thimble-shaped cup at the bottom of the tunnel. Without stopping to admire her work she hurried to the nearby flowers and collected honey and pollen enough to make a,little cake, which she packed away in the rose leaf cup. The first room of the little new home is now ready for its occupant. The walls are thick and smoothly lined. The little bee-mother now lays her first egg upon the cake of honey and pollen; When the bee-baby hatches out it finds enough food to last until it. is a grown-up bee. Away the little mother flies. Back to the robe bush now. But the piece shd cuts this time from the rdih leaf, is not oval but circular. Quick as lightning her little sclssors-like Jaws do their work. The round piece lp just the Bize to cover the top of the eup in the tunnel and she tucks the edges in tidily, often makln gthree or four trips for circular pieces hefdre the work Is finished to her liking. Another rose leaf cup Is fitted in the tunnel just touching the top of the first one. It is stocked with food, an egg placed in It and all covered with green circles. Another cell, then

another and another is made, until the tunnel is full. Sometimes several tunnels are made by the same bee. To line them all Bhe must make hundreds of trips to the rose garden. Examine your rose bushes and see if the leaf-cutter bee has paid them a visit. How lucky you would be if you should be watching some day and should really see a grey bee not so large as a honey bee come and cut out a piece and bear It away. A boy I once knew had a habit of always seeing things happen. One day he actually followed one of these bees from rose bush straight across the pasture to the old fence post in the corner, and saw her carry the bit of rose leaf Into her nest. —Mary Morgan Miller, in Boys and Girlß. Waiting tor a Game.

x Two Mexican Games. While children play pretty much the same games the world over, here are two the Mexicans play which are not used anywhere else: - "Hanging Judas” Is a popular one with the boys. They dress a big rag doll in funny clothes (much like a scarecrow) and stuff It with Btraw. They then put a firecracker in the toes and hang the figure on a line stretched across the narrow street. Then the fuse is lighted and “Judas” is pushed out oil the line. Bang, go the firecrackers. Judas is all ablaze, and the children laugh—and dane© about as he burns. This game is commonly played around Easter time. "The Flying Game” is another sport popular in Mexico, and their records show it was played before the time of Columbus. A tree Is cut, Its branches removed and steps are made out of ropes. Others affixed to the corners of the frame are then wound around the pole. Four boys, dressed as eagles or hawks, climb up the steps, and each of them, takftig a rope, Bwings off, while another boy whirls the square' frame around. This unwinds the ropes and makes the boys fly round and round in larger circles until they reach the ground. While the birds are tying down one boy stands on top of the pole, waving a flag and beating a drum, until a looker-on feels much as if he had been to a circus.