Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 46, Number 217, 23 July 1921 — Page 13
THE RICHMOND PALLADIUM, SATURDAY, JULY 23, 1921
PAGE THREB
THE JUNIOR.PALLA.DIUM
' , Tho Junior Palladium la the children's section of the Richmond Palladium, founded May G, 1916, and Issued each Saturday afternoon. All boys and girls are Invited to be reporters and contributors. News Items, social events, "want" advertisements, stories, local jokes and original poems are acceptable and will be published. Articles should be written plainly and on one side of the paper, with the author's name and age signed. Aunt Polly is always glad to meet tho children personally aa they bring their articles to The Palladium office, or to receive letters addressed to the Junior Editor. This Is your little newspaper, and we hope each boy and girl will use It thoroughly.
AUNT POLLY'S LETTER
Dear Junior Friends Do we like stories? Eut that Is about as foolish a question as "Do we like cream puffs?" Isn't it? It is very hard to find something we like better than good stories and we like all kinds stories about other boys and girls and grownups and animals, especially the animals and birds that we know real well and fairy stories. Is there, do you suppose, any' kind of story that, we do not like? I scarcely think so. But where do all the stories come from? Mostly from the lives of people.' Do you know that most people can tell wonderful stories Just from their own lives, because even if they do not "act" stories they can dream them, and often the dream kind is more Interesting than the real kind. But very wonderful things happen in people's lives things that make most splendid stories. Talk to people, watch the rabbits, squirrels and birls; read about what is happening In the world and see how full of stories life really is. Just last Thursday evening a real Treasure Island story was published in the paper about a treasure found on a little Island In the South Seas named Pinakl. By the way, you who like to write stories of hidden treasures will find inspiration for a splendid story In this account. The world Is full of stories, stories that are told and written and of suggestions for stories that may be told and may be written. I wonder It you know a little poem Robert Louis Stevenson wrote about the stars in which he says: "And high overhead and all moving about There were thousands of millions of stars." There are that many stories yet to be written thousands of millions of them. All we have to do is to choose the kind we like best and then Bpin our story and what fun we can have spinning stories! There are news stories, telling what you are doing or your friends, and "make-up" stories about what boys and girls MIGHT be doing, and stories of the little rabbit that skips around in your yard, or the meadowlark that fearlessly makes its nest under your chestnut tree or stories of ghosts and pirates and soldiers and travelers, besides all
the things you can imagine fairies are doing in Fairyland and that Includes about everything, doesn't it, for what in the world Is there that we cannot Imagine a fairy doing? And telling stories. That is a much, much older pleasure than writing them. In the early days of any race and country that Is the only kind of stories people knew. There were minstrels and trouba
dours ana many wanaenng story tellers anu tuey were pruimuiy always welcomed with delight. In Richmond now, children have a great privilege. People who like stories are spending much of their time telling them to children, any children who wish to come and hear .them. On the playgrounds during the week and in the library on Saturday stories are being told. The only Idea in the minds of these storytellers is the joy of the work, the joy of those who listen and their own Joy in the telling. Children here in Richmond should feel very grateful to Mrs. Girty, Mrs. Griffis, Mrs. Bernhardt and Miss Foulke and others who have planned and assisted in arranging these story hours for them. Dramatization of stories make us understand the stories better and get more fun from them. On rainy days, what fun you can have using your soldiers or dolls or perhaps the buttons from the button bag (you can do all sorts of things with buttons) or some empty spools, acting out Little Red Riding Hood or The Blue Bird or The Battle of Bunker Hill or The Sleeping Beauly or any story that you hear or read. Knowing many, many stories gives our thoughts freedom to fly around in beautiful broad 'places and this makes life more wonderful. The more beautiful things we think about and know the happier we are. It Is something like the difference a lovely brown butterfly must feel when it finds a great big garden full of grass and flowers and sunlight after it has escaped from a dark, narrow alley Into which it happened to fly when out traveling one day. But you'll think I'm writing a book or something If I do not end this letter right now. So I will. Goodbye until next Saturday. i
AUNT POLLY. P. S. The best way to end anything Is to begin again. I just wanted to add that when you write stories, send them to the Junior Palladium.
HARD KNOTS 1. My first is in chair but not in 6ttlC My second in pot, but not In kettle, My third in it but not in grin, And three's all the letters this word within. It describes the weather just to a dot, And rhymes with this verso as like as not. 2. ' Men follow me where e're I'm found, And women like to have me 'round. When hidden deep or in pirate hold, I make as good story as ever Is told. 3. My first is In some, but not in few My second ckip3 did and appears in do. My tnira is m uuuie-uee, uuuic-ucc-dee, My fourth is in Alice but not in me. My whole is something that's very nice; It's sweet to taste and it's cold as ice. Answers to these Hardknots m this week's Junior. Shower Baths for Horses Purine these-hot days. In Home parts of Now York city, people have arranged shower hatha for horses alons the side of the streets.
From a Recitation by Humpty Dumpty
I sent a message to the fish; I told them. "This is what I wish." The little fishes of the sea, They sent an answer back to me. The little fishes' answer was, "We cannot do it, sir, because " I sent to them again to say, "It will be better to obey." The fishes answered, with a grin, "Why, what a temper you are in!" I told them once, I told them twice: They would not listen to advice. I took a kettle large and new, Fit for the deed I had to do. My heart went hop, my heart went thump; I filled the kettle at the pump. Then some one came to me and said, "The little fishes are in bed." Lewis Carrol. Children of California Plan Future Independence School children in San Francisco have 1,600.000 in savings bank deposits and in small government securities, proudly announced that city's board of education recently.
Noted Explorer
Be Santa To Eskimo Tots Explorer Donald McMillan with some of the dolls he'll take to the Arctic. Donald B. McMillan, arctic, ex plorer, who is ready to make his ninth trip to the frozen north, plans to play Santa Claus to the children of the far north next Christmas. He is taking with him a box of dolls and small toys.
TRUE WAR STORIES of SOLDIERS in FRANCE
By SAMMIE -The French Respect for Their Dead "Attention! The division will salute the memory of those of its comrades who have fallen while fighting for their country!" The voice of General M , one of the young French commanders, who, by sheer merit, had made his way to the front rank during the war, rang out clearly over a stubble field not far from the fighting lines. The troops of his division, drawn up in deep formation, facing towards the point whence Ihe sound of the German guns could be heard plainly, presented arms and the drums tapped out a general salute, while the colors of the various regiments were lowered, out of respect for those who had died. The long rows of bayonets remained perfectly still for several minutes, while the roll of the drums continued, and, even after this had ceased and absolute silence reigned, the men stood motionless for a further period, their thoughts with their former comrades. Respect for the dead is deeply ingrained in the French character and the soldiers appreciate greatly such an opportunity to honor those who have Hied a warrior's death. Were In Many Battles. The division concerned had seen much fighting all along the front. It had served in Alsace, at Verdun, at Chateau-Thierry, on the Somme and on the Aisne, where attacks from one side or the other had been of daily occurrence for nearly four months. One of its units was a battalion of the famous chas seurs, who are to be found" wherever fighting is heavy. Regimental Flag of Chasseurs Honored. Before the memorial service, another ceremony had taken place, for it was this battalion's turn to be intrusted with the charge of the regimental flag of the chasseurs for a period of three months. Each battalion in rotation is accorded this honor, and every man in the battalion guarding the colors
SKEETS LANDS A JOB
'.V, . ': Chapter V. ' , - Old Baumberg, Mad, Chases Skeets Outof Grocery Store -" Old Baumberg's grocery store had been open not more than five minutes that morning before Skeets Munson, face cleaned and bright, shoes shined, necktie straight, and looking, In general, very business like, marched in. He carried a neat, flat package. Baumberg, behind the partition, came shuffling out when he heard the screen door slam. "Good morning, Mr. Baumberg," greeted Skeets, pleasantly. "Nice "No, no, no, no, no, my. boy. I ain't got no job. Don't ask -" Skeets Talks Business. "Mr. Baumberg," interrupted Skeets, laying his package on the counter and looking the old grocer straight in the eye. "I've got some thing I want to tell you. Now The screen door opened and closed again. Both Skeets and Baumberg looked. It was Mr. Carroll, presi dent of the Carson baHk, who had entered. Disregarding Skeets altogether, old Baumberg hurried around his counter and, smiling and bowing in his best style, asked in his ac cent, "What can I do for you this morning, Mr. Carroll?" Finish up with this young man first, Mr. Baumberg: he was hero before I came in." Tells of His Observations. Unwilling, but anxious to please this important customer, Baumberg went back to Skeets. Skeets started again. "Day before yesterday," he said, "you asked me what a little feller like me could do around a store like this.. I'm going to show you.. "I spent nearly all day yesterday watching your store and Rayj mond's, across the street. RayI mond's seemed to be getting the j most customers. I believe this is j because Mr. Raymond and his son 1 Bud take good care of their store. seems to feel a personal pride in the emblem beneath which he marches. The flag bears at the head of its staff the three highest military decorations the Legion of honor, the military medal and the war cross, bestowed as a reward for the constant and conspicuous bravery of the soldiers who have fought under it. Chasseurs An Old Regiment These chosen troops, the chasseurs, had made history long before the World War. The first Napoleon had a battalion of chasseurs in the Guards Corps of the Grand Army. Afterwards they disappeared from the army list for a time, but were reconstructed by the Duke of Oleans under Louis Philippe. Solferino, during the Italian war of Liberation, and Sebastopol, In the Crimean war, added to the fame of the chasseurs, and, during the war of 1870, against the Prussians, they distinguished themselves on many occasions. (Next Week Two Tales of Daring.) HARDKNOTS UNTIED 1. Hot. 2. Gold. 3. Soda. A Timely Suggestion -A FE.tf BWQNft PECUi PLACED NGWl. HOME BASE fllLL IN'suib ; esmft mo quicker SLIDING FOP-THE RUNNfcK.
1 ' -qtovaomHa
Now, If you'll let me; help yplt this summer I'll bet younre can I build up a list of steady customer thai will be more than Raymond's ever thought of getting.".; Old Baumberg glowered more fiercely over his spectacles. This smart young cub! "Last night I lettered some price cards for some of your goods and made a few posters for your windows. I also drew up a plan of how I think we could arrange your store handier.", Skeets untied his flat package and spread his work on the counter. "Here they are." With one huge, fierce sweep of his arm old Baumberg brushed all Skeets' drawings to the floor. "Got out of here, you little scamp!" lio shouted angrily. "I ain't got no time to bother with such a nuis' ance!" Skeets started for the door. Chapter VI.
Skeets Lands a Job at Last And it is an Unexpected One Skeets had gone half way to the door of Baumberg's store, about to make a hasty exit, when Mr. Carroll, president of the Carson bank, who had heard most of Skeets' conversation with Baumberg, called him back. Skeets turned 'round. "What is your name, son?" asked Mr. Carroll. , "Skee er er Ivan Munson, sir," replied Skeets. Mr. Carroll Questions Skeets "What were you going to say?" Mr. Carroll's ryes twinkled when he put U113 question. In his younger days he had had a nickname, too. "Skeets." Skeets grinned and looked down at his shoes basliTully when he said this. "Well, Skeets, if I'm not mistak en you are looking for a Job. You go to school, don't, you?" Yes, sir, when there Is school, but It's vacation now. I want a job for summer. All the other fellers are working." "I see. And you tried to per suade Mr. Baumberg here to give you a position?" "I tried, sir. But he don't seem to think he needs anybody." Well, Skeets, you know James Hardman, who worked down in the bank, doing errand3 and such?" Skeets said he did. And Then "Jim has been advanced and has a better job. So now we're needing some one to take his place. How would you like the job?" Skeets was astounded. A job in the bank! Who would ever had thought it! Old Baumberg, behind his counter, listened to the conversation. At Mr. Carroll's offer he grumbled something unintelligible. "When should I start work;' asked Skeets. This was as good as an acceptance. "We can use you today," replied Mr. Carroll, smiling at Skeets' readiness to work. And then, turning to Baumberg, who was still waiting for Mr. Carroll's order, he said, "I think, Mr. Baumberg, Skeets and I will go across the street to Raymond's to order mv wife's groceries if you don't mind." ' Skeets chuckled. (The End.) The Brook I know a merry little brook, That sparkles on its way, And flows In every little nook, Until the dawn of day. The brook that through tho meadow flows, Steals silently along; It chatters, chatters, as it goes, And sings its little song. It babbles over stony ways, And makes small water-falls; It plays with violets so gay Beneath the trees so tall. Near flower's and trees It passes by; To it they bow their heads, And on the banks It dashes high Upon the gravel beds. It steals by lawns and grassy plots. It slides by acorn covers, It touches the sweet forgetmenots That grow for happy lovers. There is a lovely little brook That through the woodland flows; It makes me think of story books As it flows on so slow. Elizabeth McKelligan, grade 6, Eaton, Ohio, public school.
