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About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 24, 1904)
ID you ever atop to think how pussy feels when you no away and phut her up In th hnu.'e? D v-M Here Is the experience of a very cute cat, tokl by herself In tht Ixindon Telegraph: There's the doir shut now. I supprss they're all away. Vim, that's the cab now. Oh, I'm In a rune. Mamma said: "Thut's the worst of spending holidays with rela tives; you can't take your live stork." "Uf stock," Indeed! I'll Just have a good old liowl. Mawawow-ow-ow! Don't tin Hilly. What's the Rood of howl Inn when It don't annoy anybody? I'd like to know who's going to feed me. The per son from next door, I suppose. Well, I don't like her. I'll terrify her when she comes In. Now, what on earth can I do? Oh, here's a Jiisr of cream. What a nuisance! The neck's too narrow. I wonder If I cou'd put my hand Inside; I'll try. Oh, now I've broken It. Well, It serves them right for leaving me. lUially, they seem to have a peculiar ld-a of my value. Fancy leaving a prise Per slan unprotected to the mercy of a neigh bor! I could howl again. Mawawow-ow-ow. Oh, here she's coming In. I'll sit on the dresser and glare at her. Good morning, Mrs. Hmlth. Oh, you may well look scared. I can scratch. What's she saying? "I don't like the look of that beast. He has nnstv yellow eyes. I wish he wouldn't look at me. I think I'll run In for Tommy." If she fetches Tommy Bmlth Inside this door I'll go for him. That's rnther a nice little green leaf In the vase. I'll hsve a bit. My! It's tough. There, I've broken It. Well. It serves them right for leaving me Alia! here's Tommy. I'ht, pht! Bssgrrrrr! "Oh, the fiend, the tiger! He's scratched Tommy. I'll wire to Mrs. Jones to come for him. He's not safe." Hurrah! That's done the trick. Now mamma will come, home nnd take me with the rest of the family. I must do some thing mud. Here's the durnlng bug. I love wool. I'll wind a few bu!ln round the table. Now, where did Mrs. Hmlth put the milk? In Ihe blue tureen? Bhe might have known I could lift tlio lid. Mother. I've pulled It all over. It does look a bit messy, but It serves them right for leaving me. Thut's the key In the door. Has Mrs. Bmlth ventured back? No, It's mamma. ITrrrr! "My sweetest wee possum. Was It left by Itself, then, with a nasty old neighbor! Pld It miss it's mammy, then?" Quito delighted, quite delighted, mamma. Do go into the dining room. No, not ths kitchen, It's so cold. Gracious! If she sees ths mess I'll get spanked. "Poor wee lovie, then, could It drink some cream?" Prrrrrrrr! She Ksrw How. He was a curly headed hoy with life be fore him. Bhe was a little girl with a saucy pug nose, but wise. It would seem, beyond her years. The fact that she was nursing a doll with eyes that opened and hut with a click may have bven his in spiration. "Bay, sister, I t'ink I'd get married If I knew how." "Oh, that easy," replied the owner of the pug none. Klrst. you buy a diamond ring and give It to her; then you buy a gold ring, liko mamma's got, and give that to her. And than you must buy her a watch for her birthday." An what she give me?" expectantly asked tho lit lie chap. 12m. "Pw W W "Why, ntithln", of course," smartly re plied his little companion. "Bay, sister," he added, "I guess I won't marry." 81. Halertlay. Oh, Friday night's the queen of nights, be cause it ushers in The Feast of good Bt. Saturday, when studying la a sin; When ptudylng la a sin, boys, and we may go to play Not only in the afternoon, but all the live long day. St, B.itnrdny so legends say lived in the ages when The use of li isure still was known and cur rent among men; Full seldom and full slow he tolled, and even as he wrought He'd sit him down and rest awhile. Im mersed In pious thought. He loved to fold his good old arras, to cross III good old knees, And In u famous elbow-chair for hours he'd take his ease; He had a word for old and young, and when the village boys Came out to play, he'o smile on them and never mind the noise. Bo when his time came, honest man, the neigh bors all declared That one of keener Intellect could better have been spared; Hy young and old his loss was mourned In cottage and In hall. For if he'd done them little good, he'd done no harm at all. In time they made a saint of him, and Issued a decree Since he had loved bis ease so well, and lieon so glad to see The children frolic round him and to smile upon their play That school boys for his sake should have a weekly holiday. They gave his name unto the day, that as the years roll by HIh memory might still be green; and that's the reason why We speak his name with gratitude, ami oftener by far Than that cf any other saint In all the calendar. Then, lads and lassies, great and small, give ear to what 1 say Itefraln from work on Saturdays as strictly as you may; Bo shall the saint your patron be and prof iler an you un Ana when examination ins come he'll see you safely through. St. Nicholas. Where the Fireflies Come From. Once iipon a time, many centuries ago, a woodchoppcr. returning nt dusk from his long day's labor, saw, ua he passed through the forest, a soft-shining light on a bam boo branch. Surprised, he hastened toward it and found thero a tiny baby girl surrounded by a radiance like moonlight. Now the woodchoppcr and his wife were often sad because they had no little one of their own, nnd the baby was carried to their humble home, where you may be eure she had the most loving attention. She grew rapidly and the light that the woodchoppcr had seen around her when he found her In the forest grew brighter and brlghte- until at night the whole cottage w.is flllea with Its glow. It even shone through the paper screens that formed three of the outside walls of the cottage for all this happened In Japan, where the houses are made of bamboo and paper screens. People called the little girl by the pretty name of Princess Moonlight, for, as they aw the light about her Increase, they knew that she must be a moon-child. The woodchoppcr and his wife felt very sad. They knew It was not often a moon child came to the earth, and, when It did, it was obliged to go back to Mother Moon when 20 years old. Years passed, and Princess Moonlight, now a lovely young woman, sat on the veranda one dark night, shedding a soft light all about her. It happened that that very night the em peror and his courtiers were returning from a clay's sport In the forest. Afar off they saw what seemed like moonlight, and, filled with wonder, they went to see what It could 1, for the moon would not be up for several hour3. When the emperor beheld the beautiful maiden In the midst of the light he fell in love with her at once, nnd begged her to be his wife. Hut alas! though the princess loved him dearly she knew that she could never be bis queen, and that In three days ihe must leave the earth forever. The emperor was filled with grief when she explained to him that she was a moon child, and he sent his courtiers home; but he himself stayed with the princess, dread ing to leave her for even a single hour, knowing how soon he must part from her forever. The last night came all too quickly, and Mother Moon sent down her moonbeams that were to carry the princess away. The emperor clasped his arms about her, and, though he held her firmly, the moonbeims drew her nway from him. Vp she floated, her tears falling back to earth all the way, until she was folded close to the heart of Mother Moon. But from every tear that fell bnck to earth wings sprang, nnd the shining tears flew here and there, looking for the em peror: end still are they searching for him, though he died, an old. old man, long ago. And people call those tears fireflies. Ohio State Journal. The Little Old l.ady. Once a little old lady lived near a wood. She loved the birds and the squirrels. Kvery morning she threw out crumbs for the birds to eat. She also gave com and nuts to the squirrels. One day she saw two of the birds building a nest. Then she put bits of wool and cotton on a branch of a tree. She even put some of her own Boft, white hair upon the tree How glad the birds were! They put the hair Into the very best place In tho nest. "There Is no other nest so dear as ours In all the woods," they said to each other. Ono day the little old lady put some corn on the doorstep. Then she sat down to wait. It was very still. She sat there for a long time. AH this time Frisk, the squirrel, rat on the stone wall and looked at her. He saw the corn, but nt first he did not dare to go upon the doorstep.' "She Is a. kind old lady," thought he. "I am sure she will not hurt me. I think she wants me to come." So Frisk came slowly up to the doorstep. At last he came up close to her. Soon his little cheeks were full of com. Then he ran away, but he soon came back. After this Frisk and the little old lady were the very best of friends. Height of the ( loads. Some observations recently made In India answer partially questions often asked about the height of clouds. At Simla ob servatory. In India, a scries of photogram metric measurements have been made dur ing a period of twenty months, and the results are reported In "The Indian Me teorological Memoirs." Simla has an ele vated situation on a mountain ridge, and the observatory Is placed at an altitude of 7,224 feet, which Is above the ordinary lower clouds. Hence the observations made relate to the lofty cirrus clouds, the mean height of which above Simla, in forty-seven measurements, was found to be 30,440 feet,, or nearly six miles. The maximum was 28.440 feet. Of the thicker cumulus clouds the mean waa 7,304 feet over a mile and a third and the maximum was 14,318 feet. In the warmer climate of Simla these figures are naturally larger than would be given by average measurement of the altitude of American clouds. Plenty of Born. "Grandpa," said the children, "tell ua another story about: the time when yoa wsre a young man and traveled with the Bhow." "Well," said Grandpa Putton. "when I wis with Nixon & Kemp's circus forty or fifty years ago, one of my great acta was to get a boy to put an apple on top of his head, and then I would stand ten pac?s away and shoot a ride ball through it." "But didn't you sometimes miss the apple and shoot the boy?" "Not often, but It happened once in a while, of course." "What did you do then?" they asked breathk-ssly. "Do?" said Grandfather Putton, shrug ging bis shoulders. "Why, sometimes I ba3 to wait two or three minutes before I could find another boy, but not often. There was always plenty cf boys." A Heap of Penalea. Purtng the past riv years tne mint In Philadelphia has ground out S.OOO.OOO.SM pennies. Between July 1, 1902, and June 1, 1901, fa.fiO0.0fX pennies were coined. If all these pennies were collected In a heap it would make quite a mountain. It would take a good many Eiffel towers to reach as high, for It would not be lesa than 2,400 miles from the bottom penny to tho top penny. . From his present stock of pennies Uncle Sam would be able to give each child In the world 10 copper keepsakes and have enough left over to fill a good-sized sav Ings bank besides. An Unsentimental Fence Representative Joseph Sibley of Pennsyl vania, the millionaire oil man and horse man, who came to congress once as a dem ocrat and returned the next session as a republican, has a beautiful summer home on the shore of Lake Champlaln, not far from Plattsburg, N. Y. It is Sibley's delight to take a party of congressional friends up to Luke Cham plain with him and keep them as long a they will stay. John Sharpe Williams, the Mississippi statesman, was one of Sibley's guests and never ceased to talk of the t,eauties of the place. On a dull day In the latest session cf congress Williams wrote busily ut his desk for an hour and then walked over to Sib ley. "Joe," he said, "here's some poetry I't written about that place of yours." "Let's see it," demanded Sibley. "It's about a pair of lovers sitting on the fence in your park, repeating their vows while the moon rises over the lake." Sibley laughed immoderately. "It can't be done," he gasped. Why not?" asked Williams Indignantly. "Are the residents of that region so lost to sentiment that such an episode Is Im possible?" "It Isn't thit," Sibley replied, between laughs, "but, you see, all my fence, is made of barbed wire." Saturday Evening Post. Wasn't that Kind? "Oh, John!" exclaimed the better half of the combine, as her husband staggered up the front steps, "I do hope you will swear off at the beginning of the new year." "Not on your (hie) tintype m'dear," re plied the jovial John. "I got my (hlc) faults, all rt but betcher life I ain't ne (hie) quitter." Chicago News. Hi mm