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About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (March 20, 1904)
Chat Aboat Birds. IOlJL,D you name the very warm I C I 61,1 l,vlnK tblnr lr the world If " ' n weir nuuuri ii j wnnj lu uv so? It Is also one of the pre t Lieut thing In the world a bird. Phobably you know that the ordinary temperature of the human body In 98 de grees. Tills may rise to ! nnd even to a fraction above It. but 100 degrees means that we have fever nnd If we get up to 101 we. are very uncomfortable. A tem perature! of 104 means almost certain death. The other night on retiring to bed I softly rained my window and brushed heavy mow off tho sill. Instantly I heard a commotion, a beating of Utile wings; ' and from the slats of the outside shutter where It had been hiding for shelter flew a sparrow. Vgh! It makes me shudder to think of that tiny thing exposed to tho bitter wind and the snow. We look at the saucy little birds in winter, and we wonder how It Is that they do not freeze, to death, how it Is they can survive the droadful storms. , It Is because they carry around with thein such a very high temperature, ran Klrm. according to species, from 106 to 109. They do not feel cold any more than you feel It when you have a fever; or If they feel It. they don't mind it. The swullow, whlrh is the most active of all birds pecu liar to this climate, so active that the Creeks used to say it hud no feet, maln Ing that it never alighted nnywhere but was always on tlie wing, has a normal temperature, while that of a duck, taken under Its wing while It was In a state of repose, was found to be 107. Birds have very short lives, but they enjoy them more than we do; they llvo faster, so to speak, Hnd know more of ex uberance, the pure Joy of living, than we Cud Imagine. lUd you ever think, too. how wamly they are clothed? Feathers are warmer than fur. When we humun lielngs want to pro tect ourselves from the cold of winter we send hunters up into the frozen north to bring down from the breasts of the elder duck. Think of that down! One aide of It Itaa lain against that warm breast and the other against the Ice floes' and when we have made It up Into quilts or gar ments, we find that It keeps us warmer than anything else possibly could. It Is wonderful to think how light in weight these feathers are which give such warmth. You see, they have to be. A bird eeuld not carry much weight as It eloavea the air, any more than you could when swimming. How exactly the need of the little creature wua met when It was' Clothed In feathers. Roses aad Kisses. I'm Papa's little darling As dulttly as a flower, I live union the roses. Rlpplrg sweetness every hour I'm Just as full of kieaes As the rose lu niled with dew I keep them all for I'upu, Hut I might give one to you. C Ufrlradl by Brain. Puke lrfwipold of I-orralns was very ford Of animals and especially of a huge, fierce bear whom he called Marco and kept In a but In the corner of his park. Sometimes, till fast to a heavy chain. Marco would consent to dance or perform tricks for thi aiiiuM-n.Dt of the duke's friends, but If at any time Ins swung his shaggy held cut of laa door of his hut and showed his long, harp teeth no one dared to go near him, for fee had killed several attendants. Hut one night, after he had paaaed a particularly Ill-tempered snd surly clay and had swullowed most of his supper with a few savage gulp, a small barefoot boy. who had lost Ms way In the duke's foies's and was crying with cold, stopped at tba door of the hut. He had once seen the bear performing In one of his pleatant moods, and did not know how ferocious a beast it could be. So Into the but he walked, and cuddled close to the groat animal's shaggy coat. Thus the two slept the night through, and In the morning Marco cheerfully shared his breakfast with, his new-found friend. For days the boy lived comfortably with the bear, fearing to show himself until the storm was over, lest some of the- duke's men should send him away. One of these, however, who lingered a moment after depositing Bruin's meal, noticed that tba bear only sniffed at the food, and kept looking back into the hut, as if waiting for something. Then he tried to draw the food away again, but an ugly snarl from the bear warned him off. Curious to know the meaning of all this, he secreted him self and watched. To his amasement and horror he saw a child crawl out from the darkness and sit beside the bear, with his arm about Its neck, while the two at peaceably. The duke was brought to the hut to see this wonderful pair, and soon the story of the boy and the bear spread through the country. At his new friend's command Marco would perform as never before under the proddlngs of underlings, and though the boy made many friends In his new home, for the duke Insisted he should live with Mm. none were truer nor more loyal than the fierce old bear. A Mlsanderstandlac. The little doll from China and the little Oil nit doll Sat looking at each other In surprise. "That you were made In China," said the lirst, "I can't believe, For, you see, you have such funny round blue eyes." "Hut I nm made of china, said the haughty little blonde; "I don't know why my word you choose to doubt; And lis for eyes. If mine were slanted water melon seeds, I really think I'd rather do without." The little doll from China and the little China doll Bat looking at each other In despair. "Why, all the dolls In China are brunettes like me." said one. "Oh, no; a China doll is always fair!" "But nil the dolls In China have black hair . that's smooth und straight!" "You're wrong a China doily's hair Is curie." And both were right, yet both were wrong; because, you see, there are So many kinds of china in the world! Eunice Ward, In St. Nicholas. Collie Carries the Mall. A Scotch collie belonging to Joseph Thompson, four miles south of Milton, Ind., has become mall carrier for the fam ily. He began the practice of watching for John Dutlrunrut, rural currier on the r.:ute out of here, a week ago, and since then has been regular In going to meet the mall wagon each day when it came in sight, says the Chicago Inter Ocean. Nothing tempts him from the task when on this er rand, and after receiving the mail he Aa Oraaaje lerrrt. If you look at the stem-end of an orange you will see that the scar where It pulled away from the stem Is like a little wheel, with spokes going out from the center. If you count the spaces between these spokes you will find that there are Just as many of them as there will be sections In the orange when you open it, and so you coo tell how many "pieces" your orange has. Perliaps you think all oranges have the same number. Just as every apple has five cells which hold its seeds; but you will find It is not so. Why not? Perhaps away back wA'A " in the history of the orange, when It Is a flower, or perhaps when it is only a bud, something may happen which hurts some of the cells or makes some of them outgrow the rest. Then the number of cells hi fixed; and, no matter how big and plump nnd Juicy the orange becomes, it has no more sections than It hud when It was a little green button Just beginning to be an orange. The next time you ent an orange try to find out its Bee ret before you open It. Once upon a time, In the backwoods of Canada, there was a woodsman's hut. Mr. and Mrs. Riley and their two children lived here, and a happier little family you could not find. Johnny was a bright lnd of about 9 years old and Baby Meg was 8 months old. Father was usually out all day hewing trees, and was always accompanied by Jup and Nero, his two splendid dogs. It was on a Monday and Mrs. Riley had left little Johnny in charge of baby while she went out to hang up the week's wash ing; in the garden. ' Suddenly there was a great commotion in the house and a terrific barking from a little house dog that hud been sleeping on the baby's cradle. Mrs. Riley's heart seemed to stand still and she dropped her clothes and rushed Into the house, seizing as she went an axe from a pile of wood. She cnjne Into the house, and to her Intense horror she saw a big black bear near the cradle nnd Johnny crouching In a corner terror stricken. She screamed out: "Up tho ladder, Johnny, quick. Into the loft." And up Johnny sprang, out of harm's way. Then began a desperate struggle between' his mother and the bear. The hungry ani mal, which Mrs. Riley saw was bleeding from a wound In the right shoulder, (where it hud no doubt been shot by some hunter, rose on Its hind legs and tried to hug her. Mrs. Riley dashed her axe right and left and each time managed to give the brute some severe wounds, but unfortunately none of them killed It. Suddenly the bear made a lurch for her, and the cradle was upset and the baby thrown on the ground almost under the bear's feet. He looked aU the child, and then made a swoop for It. In an Instant Johnny, who had Feen this from the loft, slid down the ladder, and, at the risk of his brave little life, snatched Baby Meg from the floor and rushed up the ladder again to the loft with his burden. Mm, Riley now found her strength was failing her, an.l gave one long scream for help. Almost at ouee she was answered by the loud baying of hounds close by. At this moment bruin, with a blow from one of his great paws, knocked the axe from her hand and wounded her pain fully, though not severely, with his sharp claws. Her strength now went entirely, and she ank to the floor; but before the bear could seise her two huge black hounds, which she knew to be Jup and Nero, ruahed In at the door and pulled the bear down. A moment luter Mr. Riley came In and shot the bear. He had heard his wife's and Johnny's creams, und had followed the dogs, who had scented the bear, and, as you see, bad arrived Just In time to suve his wife's life. Johnny never forgot that day, and little Meg, who Is a grown-up girl now, shows tho marks in her arm where the bear scratched her Just as her brave little brother saved her life. The Barefoot Boy. Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy with cheek of tan; With thy turned-up pantaloons. And thy merry whistled tune; With thy red lip, redder still. Kissed by strawberries on the hill; With the sunshine on thy face Through thy torn brim's Jaunty grace! From my heart I give thee Joy; I was once a barefoot boy. I'rince thou art; the grown-up man Only Is republican. Let the mtllton-dollared ride; Barefoot, trudging at his side, Thou hast more than he can buy, In the reach of ear and eye Outward sunshine. Inward Joy, Blessings on thee, barefoot boy! Oh, for boyhood's time of June, Crowding years In one brief moon When all things I heard or saw. Me. their master, waited for! I was rich In flowers and trees, Hummingbirds and honey been; For my sport the squirrel played, I'lled the snouted mole his spade; For my taste, the blackberry cone Purpled over hedge and stone; laughed the brook for my delight. Through the day and through the night. Whispering at the garden wall. Talked with me from fall to fall; Mine the s:ind-rlmmed pickerel pond; Mine the walnut slopes beyond; Mine, on bending orchard trees. Apples of IlesperideB! Still aa my horizon grew, ljirger grew my riches, too; All the world I saw or knew Seemed n complex Chinese toy, Fashioned for a barefoot boy! Oh, for festal dainties spread Like my bowl of mirk ami bread! (I'ewter spoon and howl of woodl On, the doorstep, gray and rude! O'er me like a regal tent. Cloudy ribbed the sunset bent. Purple curtained, fringed with gold. 1 ooted In many a wind-swung fold. While, for music, came the play Of the pled frogs' orchestra. And to llsrht the noisy choir I. It the fly his lamp of fire. I was monarch; pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy. Cheerily then, my little man. Live and laugh as boyhood can; Though the lllnty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared tho new-mown sward, Kvery morn shall lead the through Fresh baptisms of the dew; Kvery evening from thy feet Shall the cool winds kiss the hent; All too soon those feet must bide In the prison cells of pride: Iose the freedom of the sod. I.Ike a colt's, for work be shod; Made to trend the mills of toll, 1'p and down In ceaaelcss moil, Happy If their trucks be found Never on forbidden ground! Happy If they sink not In Quick and treacherous sands of sin! Ah. that thou couldst know thy joy 10 re it passes, barefoot boy! JOHN G. WIIITTIEB, General l.ee In Battle. During the battle of Antietum, one of the bloodiest in the civil war, there bad be.n a sharp engagement of artillery and the con federate battery from Rockbridge, Va wtl standing waiting orders when General Leo rode by and stopped a moment. A dirty faced driver about 17 said to him: "General, are you going to put us In again?" Thtnk of such a question from such a source to the general of the army, espe cially when that general's name was l.ee. "Yes, my boy," the stately officer kindly answered. "I have put you In again. Hut what Lb your name? Your face seems fa miliar, somehow " "I don't wonder you don't know me, sir," laughed the lad. "I'm so dirty. But I'm Bob." It was the general's youngest son, whom he had thought safe in the Virginia Mill tary institute. "God bless you, my eon; d your duty," and the general rode on. J