The San Francisco Call and Post from San Francisco, California • Page 25

A PAGE FOR THE CHILDREN Warmly and broadly the south winds are blowing Over the sky, one after another the white clouds are fleeting; Every heart this May morning in joyance is bleating, full merrily. Tennyson. Good-by, fairest month of spring, with all thy fragrance and tby bloom Thy carnivals gay And Queens of May! Naught of woe to us Thou'st brought With peace and love The warp and woof Of each bright day Thou'st wrought. From the morn we gave to thee a gladsome welcome to the sweet sad day when thy fragrant blossoms were strewn by gentle hands over the graves of our Nation's heroes nothing but peace hast thou bestowed on the children of California, Queen of the West. So we bow our heads with gratitude today as we bid to thee a fond farewell.

tire Ancl cl j- Rose) in Pittsburg Press. There has come to my mind a legend, a thing I havo half forgot, And whether I read it or dreamed it. ah, well ii matters not; It la said that in heaven, at twilight, a great bell softly swings. And men may listen and hearken to the wonderful music that rings. If he puts from his heart's inner chamber all the passion, pain and strife, Heartache and weary longing that throbs in pulses of If be thrust from his soul all hatred, all thought? of wicked things, He can hear In the holy twilight, how the cell ol the angel rings.

And 1 think there lies in this legend, if weopenoui eyes to see. Somewhat of an inner meaning, my cousins, to you and to me: Let us look in our hearts and question, can port thoughts enter in To a soul if it be already the dwelling of thought: of BinT so, then. let us ponder a let us look In oui hearts and see If the twilight bell of the angels could ring foi you and me THE LETTER BOX all the delightful letters from young friends which appear in print to-day, youi editor has also received a pleasant letter original story and drawing from Eveline Beaudet; letter and drawings from Annie T. Bells; also interesting chatty letters froir Charlie R. McNeil, Eva M.

Bolger, Josle Dcs mond. Dora Goding and Henry THE RIVER. Gentle, gentle river. Gliding swiftly past; Ever on your journey Ever will It last. Over stones and pebble, Through hill and lonely dell.

Yon will travel, travel, But you will never tell How you spend your time Or what you do or see; But ripple, ripple onward- Onward to the sea. Oft I sit in the shadow Of the liveoak'g deep green And watch your eddying motion, And the curious forms it weaves; Trying to count your diamonds In the glint of your bubble's bead, Waltzing to endless music. What a lolly life you lead Minnie Culver. San Rafael, May 25, 1896. Dear Editor: My papa and my grandpapa take The Call, and auntie reads the children'! THE ELEPHANT AND THE GIRAFFE Charlotte Osgood Carter in St.

Nicholas. tljC fUJVnt to tfjf "Yooy (j too fcalf." He vcf Vet yooi Reader to yoa yoo't ietUY not page to us every Sunday. My mamma Is deed and I miss her bo much. lam 6 years old, but am not going to school for one more year. I have three pet Muggins, Flnnette and Munille.

Muggins has a bobtail. I have four brothers, but they are all mean to me and i sometimes they hit me, but I tell them. when I 1 am a woman I will have the same rights as I they have, and that makes them mad. Your i little friend, Gertie Butterworth. Telegraph Hill, San Francisco, May 27, 1896.

Dear Editor: The Sunday Call has become a great favorite among the "kids" of Telegraph Hill since up-to-date Joe B.s name appeared in that paper. Some of the boys think there ought to be at least two Sunday Calls every week. I send you the answers I tried bard to rind for puzzles of May 24. Walter Duank. Ocean View, May 24, 1896.

Dear Editor: My papa has taken The Call for four years. I enjoy the "Childhood's Realm" very much. Igo to Sheridan School, and lam in the fifth grade. I have stood at the head of my class until last month, when I was number two. This is my first letter, and hoping to see it in next Sunday's Call, I close, sending the answers to the puzzles.

Your friend, John Morrison, 9 years. San Francisco, May 21, 1896. Dear Editor: I have been reading the children's letters in "Childhood's Realm" and thought I would try to write one myself. I go to Bernal Heights School and am in the third grade. My teacher's name is Miss Neppert.

I hope to be promoted to the fourth grade next promotion, which will be my birthday- June the when I hhall be eight years old. I have a sister the same age; her name is Bella. We have a parrot; she can talk, whistle and sing. We have a brown curly dog whose name is Traynor. He can do tricks; he plays soldier.

One day I went up on the hill to pick mushrooms with Raymond Shuman. As I was coming down the hill I fell into a quarry and landed in the softest place in the quarry, rieht beside a big rock. Raymond came and asked me if I was dead. I fell between thirty and forty feet, and 1 have the marks yet. We think The Call is the best paper.

Your friend, Willie Park, 149 McClellan street Wash. May 21, 1896. Dear Editor: This is my first letter to The Call. My papa takes the Daily Call and I am giad when Sunday comes, so I can read the children's page. I enjoy it very much.

Before we moved up here I lived in Santa Clara, Cal. We are having nice weather up here, but I would rather be in California. I have been going to school for about two months. I hare good times, but I miss my playmates down In Santa Clara. I guess I have said enough so I will close.

Your little friend, Alice Meyers. Cosumne, Sacramento May 23. Dear Editor: lam going to write you a letter, and hope you will publish it in The Sunday Call, that comes to our house every week. I think some of the pictures in The Call are awful funny, and I like to read the boys' and girl 6' My papa is the Methodist minister here. AYe have a school and a good teacher, and I like to study.

The doctor has brought me a new brother, he is one month old, his name, is Victor Edward. I would rather play than mind him, but I am trying to be a good boy so I will become a good man. lour friend, Robert C. Swithenbank. Oakland, Cal.

Dear Editor: I have a cat that catches rats, mice and gophers. He goes out into the vacant lot by our to catch the We play with him a great part of our spare time. 1 made a toboggan glide on the hill, and then I made a car in which to ride. My little sister Ethel, James Silby and I slide down and have lots of fun. I live close by Lake Merritt and we have a very fine view from our house.

We can see all over the hills, the boats on the lake, the teams passing on the road and the cars with their great loads of people. I hope to see my letter in The Sunday Call, and remain your little friend, George Davis. Tn-ARE, May 23, 189 G. Dear Editor There are so many little boys and girls writing for The Call that 1 thought I would write, too, and see if you would publish it, for this is my first letter to you. My papa takes The Call, and I always read the children's page.

We like The Call better than any other paper we take. I like the stories about naughty Max, and I think I shall to write one, too. Very truly yours, Ruoeki, 13 years old. Pan Francisco, May, 1890. Dear Editor: This is my first letter to The Call, and I hope it will please you.

I love to read the Childhood's Realm every Sunday. Sometimes I can't hardly wait for The Sunday Call to come, the letters are so nice. lam 10 years old, and I go to Bernal School. Miss M. Keating is my principal.

My teacher's name is Miss Simpson. She is a very kind teacher to me ami also to the other pupils. Well, I think my letter is getting long, so I will close, hoping to see it in next Sunday's Call. Good-by, your little friend, Nellie McKeon. Nf.wvitj.e, May 19.

Dear Editor: My papa takes The Call. I like to read Childhood's Realm. I can ride the bicycle. lam 11 years old. My school is just out Friday.

I like to go to school. lam in the THE SAN FRAXCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, MAY 31, 1896. seventh grade. My papa runs the tin shop. I uake little ships.

I tnink it is lots of fun to sail the ships. I like to throw rocks at them. hope to sco my letter in The Call. Yours Gussie Wheeler. South San Francisco, May 11, 1896.

Dear Editor: lama little girl 10 years old, Igo to South Pan Francisco School. My teacher's name is Miss Richards. I like to go school. I enjoy reading the Childhood's Realm very much. I bave one little kitten, md every morning before I am up it is crying ior its breakfast.

He is fed on bread and milk. I have no more to say I must close my letter. Hoping to see my letter published in next Sunday's paper. Your new friend, May Desmond. PUZZLES i.

What country does everybody eat on Thanksgiving day? 11. What city do you find on the toilet table? 111. Where are the ears of grasshoppers to be found? IV. What is the origin of the word news? V. Add the name ol a part of the head to the name of a cozy place ana get sincere.

VI. Arrange the following letters in such a way as to form a proverb containing eight words: 0 c's, 2 a's, 5 i's, 5 d's, 5 n's, 2 r's, 2 Vs and 1 s. M. W. R.

VII. Why is an author a queer animal? Beatrice Kii.i.ii.f.a. Correct to Fuzzles of May 24. I. (a) Well (wel) (6) come (c) Welcome.

11. Decoration day. 111. California, San Francisco. IV.

Hose ores roes. V. limes. Correct answers to all or a majority of the puzzles for May 17 have been received from Pauline Winner, Alice Bell, Annie Branagan, Cemille Valentine and May Gwendoline Rogers; for May 24, from John Morrison, Bra M. Bolger, Alice Bell, Walter Duane, Jeanie Cohen, G.

E. Moore and Beatrice Kiliilea. THE CUBAN FLAG. (Ground of Triangle Is Red, Star Is Silver. Three Shaded Stripes Illue, Two Unshaded Stripes White.) To an i.

It must be a task, sir A-hunting for gold, Up in Alaska, Where it's so very cold. ii. Now don't you wish, sir, You'd stayed safe at home, Even though you have a tent Ana cabin all your own ill. Yon think you'll strike a fortune, I think you'll change your mind; For when the snow has melted Little gold, I fear, you'll find. IV.

Digging In the' mountains While you're growing lean, You might as well be looking For strawberries and cream. v. Fo you'd better come right back (Please take my advice), With your empty, empty sack To where Its warm and nice. VI. I'm sure we'll all forgive you For telling such a yarn, And if your wife should turn you out You may roost up in our barn, by Mrs.

Oakland. A Stork A remarkable story comes from Berlin, the New York Kecorder. Two storks built a nest upon the chimney of a mansion, the owner of which, finding an egg in the nest, took it and put a goose's egg in its place. The female stork hatched iue egg, much to the anger of her companion, which circled three or four times round the nest and then flew away. For some days the female stork fed the young goose, and all went well until the morning of the fourth day, when the inmates of the house were disturbed by a loud clamoring.

The noise proceeded from nearly 400 birds, which were standing in a compact apparently listening to the harangue of a solitary stork standing some twenty yards off. After a short timo he retired and another took his place and addressed the court, and in this way the proceedings continued until about 11 in the forenoon. Then the whole court rose simultaneously in toe air and gave forth dismal shouts. All this time the female stork was sitting in the nest, trembling with fear, which perhaps was not altogether unwarranted, for suddenly the whole company of storks flew toward her, beadeii by one, presumably the injured He struck her violently three or four times, knocked her out of the nest and then killed He next turned his attention to the unhappy gosling, which he hkewiae killed, after which the nest was destroyed and the storks flew away. Why They Quarreled.

Housekeeper (in pursuit of a Why did you leave your last place couldn't stand the dreadful way the master and mienus used to quarrel, mum. What did they use to quarrel about? The way the dinner was cooked, mum. To Escape the Hole. "See what you are doing," says mamma. You are putting your stockings on the wrong way." "I do It on purpose, mamma.

I've got a hole on the other side." Spoke for Himelf. "l'm thinking of going into business; is there any money in clothes?" "Not a cent in mine." BROWNIE PAT 'Mid floral floats, And maidens fair; 'Mid soldiers bold, With martial air; 'Mid horses prancing, And children dancing, On that great day Of the carnival gay In San Jose, A Brownie band In quaint array Rode down the street With elfish forms and faces sweet. Poor Pat was in hock Till the Brownie "dude" To his rescue ran And whacked with his cane The policeman With such a shock That it laid him out. Hurrah, hurrah, the people shout, Hurrah for the dude Who took the part Of Pat in the fight, He's "English, ye know," But "He's all right." Back to his place Climbed Brownie Pat With a grin on his face And a tip to his hat, With a wink so witty And smile so sweet As they rode away Down the crowded street, In the carnival gay At the Garden City Of San Jose. M.

W. R. In and out is twined about the blossoming trees: "How do you do? Good luck to you We are merry messengers the long day through, For the elfin weavers, weaving colors gay, Spreading cloth of gold in the King's highway." "Be constant in endeavor" see the darlings wait Round the poor man's cottage, by the rich man's gate, Girdling all the hill-slopes goldenly and strong. Rhyming to the chiming of the wind's low song: "Oh! how do you do? Good luck to you!" Bellmen of the beautiful in robes of green. Ring the coronation of the glad field queen, Liftinc helmets to the King, they stand and say: "Go ye forth to greet him lo! he comes this way! How do you do? Good luck to you We are merry messengers the long day through For the elfin weavers, weaving colors gay.

Spreading cloth of gold in the King's 1 Give to me the gold dust from your sunny cells, Teach me all the notes you know, your fairy spells, I will guard them closely, give them as I may Unto all that labor in the King's highway. With, "how do you do? Good luck to you! Now I learn your secret, chiming bells of God, Now I read your brave lines, poets of the sod, your name in good deeds, sowing seed to-day; He that runs may it in the Kinp's highway, How do you do? Good luck to you We are merry messengers the long day through. For the elfin weavers, weaving colors gay, Spreading cloth of gold in the King's highway. Annie Herbert Barker, San Rafael, Author of the MtsM Have Cleared Away," which Frances Willard culls "the lovely aong songs." She is a niuive of New York. by rcquest.J Listen to me And I'll tell to thee A story new, A story true.

On the back of the cart Was Brownie Pat; So proud and smart In his tall green hat; He bowed to the left, He bowed to the right, And winked at the girls With eyes so bright; But alack alack 1 As the floats came back In the countermarch, Right under the arch, The Brownie "cop" (Who was jealous of Pat And wanted to stop The fun he was at) Arrested Paddy And pulled him down From his lofty seat And dragged him along The crowded street With many a frown. Pat punched the "cop" With all his might While the urchins cheered At the funny sight And every one thought There would be a fight. GREETING iiDE resolute to do," so the poppies say, Ringing merry music down the King': highway, Clustering together, good neighbors all, Swinging round the bowlders in a crowd they call: Oh, how do you do? Good luck to you Leaping into laughter runs the niello? note Of a fairy folden in each yellow throat, While a vagrant chorus, linnets, larks ant 1 Instantly the tramp jumped into the air, and then fell, groaning, on the ground." ROGUE By Georgia list is in Frank Leslie's Pleasant Hours. $1000 The above reward will be paid Dy the Postoffice Department for the arrest or conviction (or for information leading thereto), of George Lewis, alias George Cox, alias Anderson Lewis; and of Charles Haley, alias Keuben Holt, postoffice thieves who escaped from the Los Pasos County Jail, where they were awaiting trial, on July thirteenth Then followed a description of the two thieves and their portraits. It was the woodcuts which caught the eye of a slim young girl in a riding habit, who was awaiting the arrival of the one daily mail in the postoffice of a West- crn town.

She cocked her small head on one side and closed one eye as she loosed critically at these rude efforts of por- traiture. "Very bad work!" she thought, "and what dreadful faces! especially the big man with the drooping eyelid." And then, because the postoffice was quite devoid of other objects of interest, she read the notice more carefully, unconsciously noting the details of the descrip- tion of the two men. "A thousand dollars!" she said to herself, thoughtfully. "Just the amount which would take me to Paris for a year or two of work and study under one of the great painters. Oh! if I had but the chance I know Her soliloquizing was interrupted by i the noisy entrance of the postmaster with the mail bag.

It was a matter of but a few moments to distribute its contents, and Rita Allison was soon galloping across i the prairie on her pretty bronco. She had two months before graduated from an i Eastern boarding-school and had come Oat to keep house for her only brother on his lonely cattle ranch. Ben Allison real- ized quite fully that for a lively and ambitious girl, just from trie freshness and activity of a boarding-school, life amid these rough surroundings was hardly an ideal existence. He was as anxious as Rita that she should paint and study, and ona of the letters which she brought to i him this very morning seemed to open a i way for this. It came from a possible pur- Chuer of some ot.

Ben's unused grazing land, and it contained a request that he would meet the writer on the arrival of the I afternoon train. "If I sell this land," said Ben, "you shall go to Paris. But it is rather bad to be obliged to meet the man to-day, as I shall have to leave you all alone in the house. Of course, you don't want to ride thirty miles again to-day, and Peter and Willis are out with the stock." "Nonsense," interrupted Rita. "Do you think I would be the one to prevent this meetinz, which is entirely for my benefit? Moreover, what should I fear? Not tigers or rattlesnakes, and certainly not human beings, for it is days since a specimen of the genus homo has approached voluntarily within our borders.

And then I have Ben Bolt," laying her hand on the massive head of a'young mastiff. "And this, I too," she added, examining the charges of a handsome revolver, which Ben had taught her to use with considerable skill, So Ben was persuaded that Rita was not afraid to be left alone until late in the evening on a lonely ranch ten miles from a human habitation, and was soon galloping away. Rita watched his retreating figure until it disappeared, and then she set about the accomplishment of various household tasks, which kept her fingers busy, while i in spirit she was free to wander across the continent, across the ocean, into the illim- i itable realms of art. After a little she stepped out on the porch to cool her hot cheeks in the prairie breeze. She glanced down the road in the direction taken by Ben, and then she turned her eyes toward I the great expanse of rippling green which stretched for miles without a break.

As she gazed, quite suddenly two strange figures seemed to spring, as it were, from i the ground but a few hundred feet from the house. Rita's astonishment was so great that she stood quietly awaiting their approach. As they came nearer she perceived that they were very ragged and altogether disreputable in appearance; that one man was tall and gaunt, with long gray hair and beard, and that the other was younger and small, and that they both limped painfully as they slowly approached the house. Rita was not a timid or hysterical girl, but she knew that in this land of open doors and generous hospitality two strangers would not be hiding thus in the long prairie grass, making their appearance only when they knew her to be quite alone, without some sinister motive, and instinctively she laid her hand on the head of Ben Bolt, who was taking his afternoon nap on the sunny porch. The men seemed to observe him as they drew nearer, for they stopped for a moment and seemed to consult; then they came on with more determined strides and Rita noticed, not without a slight sinking of the heart, that the older man carried in his band a stout stick with a thick-knotted end.

By this time the dog had discovered them and but for Rita's hold on his collar and her quick "Down, Ben he would have flown at the newcomers. "What do you want?" said Rita in a clear voice. "We want food and we want money, every red cent you have in the house, and we want it pretty quick, too," said the younger man, and he advanced up the path. "Oh, you needn't go to get it, thank you, we can help ourselves," he added. Rita let go her hold on Ben's collar, and in an instant he had flown at the intruder and seized him by the sleeve of his ragged coat.

But his companion, with a tremendous oath, raised his mighty and struck the dog a swinging blow between the eyes. Rita saw him release his hold and roll on the ground howling with pain. Quickly she stepped back into the room and seized the pistol which was iying on the table. The hand which grasped it was cold as ice, but it did not tremble as she held up the glittering weapon for the men to ace. "Comeone step nearer," she said quietly, "and I fire." In a moment both men hesitated and the smaller one even drew back, but his companion, with another vile oath, came on up the path.

Rita shuddered as she realized that she must fire. She aimed a little below the man's knees and pulled the trigger. Instantly the tramp jumped into the air and then fell, groaning and swearing on the ground, while his companion ran limping and stumbling down the road, followed by Ben Bolt, who had, however, but half recovered from the blow and soon gave up the chase. As soon as she realized that the man was wounded, Rita's fear of him was changed to a far worse fear of herself, and of wnat she had done. Overcome by remorse, she knelt beside her victim tilled with the tenderest pity for his sufferings.

"Oh, oh, lam so sorry!" she said. "I must bind up the wound at once." And with some difficulty she assisted the wounded man into the house. Her strange guest said not a word until he caught sight of food. "For God's sake give me something to eat," he said, ''I'm starving." And Rita did not doubt it as he seized and ravenously devoured the bread and meat which she brought him. He looked up gratefully as a dog might do when he finished, although he said nothing, and he was very docile and patient while Rita washed and bandaged the wound and made a neat tourniquet above it to stop the flow of blooa, as she had fortunately learned to do at school.

Nor did her ministry of mercy stop there, for she discovered that the poor wretch's feet were in a pitiabl? condition, swollen and cut and bruised from what must have been a long journey over stones and stubble. They were tied up in old bits of rag in lieu of shoes, and these Rita removed and bathed the poor bleeding members in warm water. It was not pleasant nor an easy task, but she looked now and then at the little silver cross on her watch chain and worked bravely on in His name. When she had made her patient quite clean and comfortable he fell asleep, evidently from sheer exhaustion. As Rita moved softly about the room she stopped now and then to glance at the sieepiug man, and she remembered almost i with a smile how a short time before she had regarded him as her mortal enemy I Poor fellow Softened by sleep, his face was still hard and weather-beaten but not so altogether bad and cruel as Rita had thought it when she had first seen it inflamed by evil passions.

And then, as she glanced at him, she was conscious having seen just such a face somewhere before. Like a flash she remembered the notice in the postoffice, the pictures of the two thieves and the description of their appearance. With a beating heart she softly approached a little closer. The sleeper's right arm was thrown above his head, and on the back of his hand were tattooed the letters George Lewis was the name of the older thief. Yes, it must be be, and the small, dark man, who had made his escape when his companion was shot, must be his federate, the other thief.

Rita was so frightened by thi9 discovery that she trembled violently. To be alone, perhaps until late at night, with an escaped convict, with another desperate character hiding somewhere near the I house, was enough to have alarmed a much braver girl than Rita Allison. But ji little thought soon made her see that there was but little danger of the return of the second thief, who had evidently been badly frightened by the attack of Ben Bolt and by Rita's pistol. As to her guest, looked fearfully at him as he lay ieep, and then she realized that this rong man was completely in her power. La soon as her brother returned, or early next morning, he could ride into town I and inform the Sheriff of the identity of i their strange guest.

And Rita remem! bered the reward! next Sunday.) Estelle's Astronomy. Our little Estelle Was perplexed when she found That this wonderful world That we live on la round. How 'tis held in Us place In its orbit so true Was a puzzle to her, With no answer in view. "It must be," said Estelle, "Like a ball in the air That is hung by a But the string isn't there!" i St. Nicholas, Chasing Knowledge.

what makes you late? James I was pursuing knowledge. Pursuing knowledge? What do you mean? Why, my dog ran off with my spelii and I ran after him. 25.