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Show was once a tall child? a beard. It had been but all at once it had become homesick and wanted to go back to Yungland, where it had been born. All of the children of Yungland are enchanted, sooner or later. The mightiest wizard and sorcerer that ever was lives there; and the terrible part about it is that all the science and prayers and rival sorcery of the whole world have been used quite without avail to discover some way to destroy him. He is a most wonderful sorcerer, for he does not look alike to any two Nothing is too big or too little for persons. To one he appears in beauty the old sorcerer lie sat down once and gentleness; and to the very next upon a time and slowly changed the door neighbor he will appear in so Mesopotamian valley from a wilder ness into a garden. Then he built frightful a form that the poor vic-ti- Babylon in the midst of the garden cowers and weeps. and made it all golden, so that it Although his palace is in Yung- shone like a sunset in the heart of land, he really pervades the whole the hills. And after it was splendid and filled with armed men and neighearth. There is not a hill or a lake ing horses and beautiful women and or a house or a tree, no, not even a the treasures from the north and east blade of grass, in which he does not and south and west, he piled the sands of the deserts all around it piled live. piled them, patiently, till lie rides on the back of the ele- them, andsank away. lie piled the Babylon phant and also on the back of the cat- sand over every little blade of grass, so small that even the sharp-eye- d erpillar; and as for human beings rasshonners had not been able to one of them, every single beginning nd it. He piled the sand with his unwith the aquallingest baby that ever hurried hands over the mighty cedars, squalled and ending with the noblest so tall that one single tree made a white-headed of patriarchs, must carry warship to hold four hundred men. him till he rides them to So patient was he that he laid each down separately and frain itof sand death at last so. just So great is he that all the human And with those same hands he beings in the world Christian, Mo- would loose flondxat other times that hammedan and Buddhist and the piti- would burst through a mountain wall wash away in an hour all that able but cheerful Heathen all keep and had been built in a thousand years. queer little charms to show their re- Sometimes he would huild an island spect for him. The civilized nations, out of the deep sea by laying tiny which are ours and nobody eUes, as creatures no bigger than flies, one by on each other; and then impatient of course you well know, keep a one, all at once, he would stir the bottom wooden charm. It has an expressionof the sea somewhere rise till it boiled less, flat, white face, and always keeps and spouted, aud lo! au island would its two thin metal hands in front of be born in an hour. Of course a very experienced it as if it were ashamed or frightened. sorcerer with only an inborn talent for the This wooden creature is a fluent business could do sfl this. And the conversationalist though it makes worst of it is that nothing ever seems only one remark, which is Tick I to become too much for him. Even if you toss an old trnprnny Tack! Tickl Tackl is not what might be nail,' log instance, into the ash barrel, railed an entertaining story; but the he bejriua 'to .change it before it leaves wooden creature aims not so much at your hand; yet at the same time, if entertainment as at reminding the you were to clasp a lid over the barworld forever of its master, the great rel and say to yourself "Ha!' thinksorcerer. The great power of any ing you had trapped him, you would one, however humble, who has one be quite wrong; for while lie is single idea and preaches it steadfastly, crouching in the ashes, changing the is shown in this case; for the wooden nail and the ashes and even the barcreature has said "Tickl Tackl" so rel, he i also building a city somelong that now the whole big world where and tearing a big slice off a marches day after day in a military continent , and cutting an iceberg up goose-stekeeping exact time with into shredded ire somewhere else, and those two words. making a new and splendid berg still If a man falls out of step, all the elsewhere. But the worst part of it all is his rest cry aloud at him. If he still remains out of step they put him info work in Yungland. All the changes a lunatic asylum, or else they shrug that he makes in tenpenny nails and their shoulders and say he is a genius. elephants and cities and caterpillars That is a sad lot, indeed; for while are nothing compared with what he the inmates of the lunatic asylum are docs to the children of Yungland. fed regularly, the genius is not. And Our minute they are lying in their after he starves, which happens with cradles, with their little mouths poutunfailing regularity, some one prints ing and their faces Hushed just the all his letters, especially the foolish tiniest hit, like the fluli that you ran ones and the ones asking for a loan. see ovri a silky apple blossom hud if Even the great mogul locomotives, you creep on it through the dew just that shear through a whole herd of as the first sunbeam settles on it. And cows and merely mutter Seems to the next minute thry are long and lean and lanky, with har-- h voices and me I struck something just then even they are so afraid of the sorcerer loose fret that scratch the hard-woo- d that they are forever squinting back- floors, and, ill sonic mysterious manwards over their own shoulders with ner, even the top of the mahogany a little frightened puff and scream piano. to make sure that they are keeping Then their mothers and fathers, who time with the Tick! Tack!" of the old are al-- n enchanted, wish that their sorcerer's little familiar spirit. And rhildrrn were little pouting, blossomas for the ships! The biggest and faced babies once more. But later bravest steamship that ever was wtould on, when they are changed again, and rather dive headfirst into the green are tall and beginning t suspect aud smoke grandfather of all the waves than to that thry ought to shave a- reach port one Tick! Tack!" behind. cigars, those foolish enchanted -- THERE a. ni pick-a-ba- rents would give anything if they would only cratch the hard-woo- a floor yes, and the piano, with those loose feet. The queer thing, however, is that the children don't know that thry are enchanted. This is one of the unique lie talents of the old sorcerer, changea and changes them and they never notice it themselves, although they can see very clearly how all others are changing around them. Now and then there are some unlucky onrs who notice that they are being enchanted. These make a great how d'ye do, and rare off to some rival enchanter, who sells them a black potion, that they rub on their hair and beards. But this is not really a spell at all, and only makes everybody eNe laugh at them. Blit there is one way to fool even this mighty sorcerer, lie can and will, make the swiftest and thinnest child big and fat, and pluck its hair out until nothing is left exre;t thiny bald head, end take the diamond' dust out of its ryes till they grt so dim that the enchanted child has to wear spectacles, and make its stomach an different that it simply cannot eat candy or pie blit he cannot make it really old; no, not a single year or even a day older than it was in the beginning, if the child will only remember Yung . ck . to-da- y, land and all about it; its castles that ere in the air on every hand; its swans that never become geese; its fairies that live in every dew drop and ride on the dream hores to and fro through the still air; its stories in which little Hns always loves little Gretel and never forgets her, and its dreamy, peaceful afternoons. Alast Onljr very few persons succeed in doing this. The world Calls them poets ind does not bother its head much about them, except to cry out over its shoulder at them that thry really mfst try to keep step with Tickl Tacld Otherwise the poets sre left verf much to themselves. They are mistly poor and do not amount to Ouch in the world; for they could tot manages bank for a single day vithout mixing the accounts all up; they could not cut a steak right cr cobble a shoe or command an arny. They really are not worth noticing. But such a poet is a curious creature. He cannot get money for his writing, as the world has to spend the money in accordance with "Tickl Tack!" and pretry does not rhyme with that at al. Therefore the poet writes for the mere pleasure of being read. And as he is rarely read, he writes anyway. So now that we get down to it, he writes for the same stupid reason that makes the birds sing because they look at the sky and kiss the wind, and then they can't help it; so they will sing even though tneir song attracts boys with stones who will soon end the throbbing in the little throats. Ihe tall child with a beard that we started to tell about do you remember? It was away and away long ago in the very beginning was not a poet. Indeed, he was anything but a poet. He had been enchained into a merchant prince, who could buy all the ports in the world and never know that he had spent the money. He was so rich that he had absolutely no time for himself; he had to devote it all to making more money ho that his other money- - would make more money so that the new money he made would make hut no! AVhy should we take his troubles on ourselves? Even repeating them gives a healthy person a headachr- Still. one day he had to fall out of This boththat military goose-steered him dreadfully, for he was a corporal, and there was none whd was fiercer than hr about making the rank and file go Right foot! Left foot! in exact time with Tick! Tack! Tick! Tack!" The old sorcerer had made a little alteration in his stomach over night, and where he could eat bread and milk the day before with comparative comfort, now he could eat only milk. He did not discover this until the bread began to kick the walls of his stomach, crying angrily: "Wheat! Wheat! Let me out! So the tall child with the beard lay on its enrhanted back, grieving about its enchanted stomach and wondering why all its gold and silver and copper and ships and railroads and banks were not sufficient to buy a stomach that would digest a bit of dough no bigger than a lemon. To pais iwiy the time, the poor thing picktd up a book a foolish, foolish hook, written by one of those poets. He bad starved to death some time before and had been buried in Potters Field, which, however, made quite as comfortable a grave as the finest marble cemetery in the country. The grass is just the same kind here," said the poet'i corpse, "and the p. p, "Say, boys." Arctic Ocean. All the boys of the village were ardent fishermen, and the news sent them scurrying home for their tackle. Stealthily as Indians they crepj to the high bank over the pool and peered branches through the overhanging into the clear, black water. Sure enough, there he lay. the grandfather of all the trout, with a mighty honked jaw that seemed to be in a perpetual savage grin, and a tail that was so big that it seemed to make a whirlpool every time he fanned it. That was the beginning of a month of hard thought, harder work and diskept appointment for the boys. Theythemthe secret of the big trout to selves. and every day they tried hnn with some new kind of bait. t Ed Burbridge borrowed his father s the in feathers the all tried and fly rod tackle book, but without success. and grassJim Baldwin tried worms Bill Andrews hoppers and moths. spent hours in his father's andlibrary as a reading up about big trout, result the boys thought that he was one pvl crazy, for he arrived atofthe fox hair morning with a bunch it unredand down on a hook. He trailed told the boys through the pool, and the Canadian that this was how Indians caught big trout that would .quiet." So company is every bit he lay in his grave and kept right on making poetry. Only instead of being written with pen and 'ink, which are not obtainable in - graveyards, his verges were embroidered with white and .yellow daisies and purp)e and pink corn flowers on the green breast of the world above. What rubbish! said the enchanted child. Rut he kept right on reading just the same. And, wonderful! All at onre he thought of Yungland, where he had been born. He had not thought of it before in ages and ages; indeed, lie had not remembered that there ever was such a place. When across the queer little he tioi-- y creatures who still lived there, wilh their mouths all sticky' with candy and tho-- e Imst feet scratching away at hardwood floors, he used to stick his fingers into his ears and scream: Take em away! Take em away!" But now it was different lie chuckled and sighed. He remembered all at onre that he used to catch minnows with a bent pin in Yungland. And, though the bit of bread kept crying "Wheat! Wheat! You let me out! he paid no attention whatever to it, but smacked his lips over the memory of taffy and licorice that he had quite forgotten years ago; which shows what a forgettery he had. He sent his servants out for more foolish books and he read: "The boy stood on the burning deck." So Why, of course!" he cried. he did, bless his soul I Don't I remember how we used to wave our hands all around in a circle when we recited: 'l ne flames that lit the battle's wreck Shone 'round him oer the dead! And then he read what was said by the poet who, folk think, died in an island in the South Pacific Ocean; although he really, only moved hack to Yungland where he belonged all the time. And when he got to the lines: So you may see, if you will look Trough the windows of this book, Another child, far, far away And in another garden, play," the enchanted child jumped up and said: That settles it. Im going back to Yungland! But how? Ah, there was the rub. This tall child was in the habit of merely saying a thing when it wanted it, such as: That settles it. I'm going to build a railroad! and presto! it was done. But you cant get back to Yungland just by making up your mind that way. Still, he tried and tried. Yet he would hardly make a step before he found himself pulled backward, head over heels, just like a rubber Sail at the end of an elastic. So at last, ashamed though he was for fear that the world would make remarks, he had to hunt up one of those useless poets and ask him for advice. Hum!" said the old poet, whose eyes were so dear that you could look into and into them ana yet never see anything except still more bright places behind them, Hum! I suppose you have been trying to drag your railroad trains and your other toys along with you. Certainly!" .aid the enchanted tall child. Wliat do you suppose I'd live on in Yungland if 1 didn't take them along?" 'Tin Mire I don't know, said the I fear, however, that I old poet. know no way for a person to reach Yungland unless lie goes without anything. To tell you the truth, I rather suspret that my advice is only useful to vrry simple and fwilish peoplel 1 am not armslnnied to counselling wise persons like you. I imagine, sir. that you are right, said the tall child stiffly. The idea of expecting me to give up the railroads and banks that I have accusiu- -- How Grandpa Trout Was Caught said Jim Baldwin to the not take bait. rest one day, you ought to see the trout in the pool below the dam. Say, hes the grandfather of all the fish. 1 bet that Captain Mat never saw a bigger whale than that in the lated at the expense of so much intellect! So he went to the greatest doctor in the world. My dear sir," said that per what you want is some of our lat.or . elixir It is made of nitro-gly- c and rhinoceros blood and will 6 you to Yungland in no time But, a!asl The elixir made the tall child hop around and act so frivoVu. that everybody sniggered behind' hi! back; but it did not take him 1,,-- v to ungland, not even within of the goose pond that lies out-id- e cf it All sorts of people hurried to when they heard where he wantrj'I.:, pi go. One man sold him a ticke n membership to a golf club, which h, said, lay just on the road. Bu didnt Another sold him a yacht which had been there once would go again, according to him. But it wouldn t. So at last the tall child thm-ulof his old mother. Up to that time hr had not thought of her sny more than he had thought of Yungland. He hS(i her name and address carefully in to his ledger so that his men put im -- , send her lots of money; and thence had sort of forgotten her. The poor old woman used to ai the money away in the bank soputtht she could leave it for him when lie died. And. every time the door hdi rang she would smile happily and trot downstaira in a vast hurry, berau-- e every time, no matter how often it happened, she was sure that the tall child had come at lat. But every time it waa only a man bringing more money; ao she would sigh and settle down to wait for the next time. But now the tall child really went to his mother, and she nearly d:ed with joy. And when he asked her the wav to Yungland, she made him sit at her knee as he had done long ago, and she smoothed the hair on his forehead and told him stories. There were all kinds of stories, and every one made him remember Yungland better and better. But the best story she kept to the end: it was about a little girl that used to live next door to him in Yungland. And when ihe mentioned her name, "Nora," at once the tall child sprang up and kissed his old mother and cried: Little Noral Little Norat Where is she now? The old mother told him; and he hurried away, forgetting all abort hu banks and things, until he came to a beautiful cottage overgrown with vines and flowers. In among the green he saw the gleam of pale, yellow gold. But he had never raced for gold before as he raced toward this. For this gold was the gold on Noras head. And Nora knew him! Knew him the moment she laid eyes on hrtn! And more than that. Nora still had little blue and gold book of fairy tales that he bad given to herl It was by a person named Hans Christian Andersen. Dear old Christian Andersen! said the tall child, with yes, with a tear in his eye. Now that was queer. For Hans Christian Andersen was just another of those useless poets who wouldn't or couldnt walk in time with Tick! and who couldnt have struck Tack a daily petty cash balance to save his poetical neck. So they sat down together and read the foolish, foolish things about the ugly duckling and the traveling companion, the tinder box, the gallant tin soldier and the little match girl. Somehow, while they were reading, their arms went around earh other's shoulders, ju.- -t as they used before the old sorcerer had changed them. (Although, for the matter of that, the tall child would have laughed at you if you had said that Nora wa changed.) And at last, when it became t"0 dark to read, they sat. looking, looking into the sunset. And all at onerin they knew that they were both Yungland again. And what is more, to they arc there yet and are going and stay there and be. happy forever forever. JULIUS MULLER. st--i- -- I. When Father Makes the Garden When Father makes the garden be makes a awful row, He says, Well, goodness gracious! It seems like anyhow You might of left the rake an' spade an shovel an the hoe In the place where I jus left em, a day or to ago. Then Mother says, Why, Papa, where did you leave em, dear?" An1 Father says, I guess,! know; I left 'em jus right here Behine the stove jus where I want to find Tern when, by gosh! I want to go an rake the beds for cucumbers an squash,. An turnips, an tomatoes, an radushes, an corn;An I tell you, if you've lost 'em, as sure as you are bora You wont have any veggytubblrs any time this fall, Exceptun that you buy em they wont be none at all. Unless you hustle 'round an' find the rake an' spade an' hoe I left right here behine the stove a little spell ago. But this particular trout was not Canadian, and he witld not even look at the honk. Then Bill hoked through the hooks again and found that thc.--r big fish sometimes take a mouse; so he caught a mouse, chloroformed it and tied it to a hook which was dropped almost in front of the trout. But he wouldn't touch it. Yet all through that month the trout not only remained in the pool, as if to drive the boys frantic, but he also added insult by rising at j midges and worms ami caterpillars! as fast as they dropped into the watcrj always providing there wa no hook in them. At last Jim Baldwin got an idea. He sneaked to the pool one cloudy morning with the finest line he could get. Tile hook was attached to it wilh a horsehair snood. He bailed it careBut he fully with a grasshopper. didn't drop the bait into the water as usual. Instead, he tossed it carefully so that it fell on top of a leaf that hung over the water. d Keeping out of sight, he the line until the leaf broke off mid fluttered slowly to the water, hearing the grasshopper with it. A soon as it alighted Jim softly tugged his line and the grasshopper, with the hook concealed m him, rolled off the floating leaf and slipped gently into the water. The next moment (here was a tremendous splash and the great Iron I was honked! He wa landed, too; and he pound.-o- n weighed three and the grocer's scales. Then Mother she jus rocks her chair an looks around at me, An says, Why, Papa, dont you think why, gracious! let me see! Twas sometime las1 September that you put away the hoe An Father says, That's' sol Away out in the stable! I guess it was; sn come to think, the hoe an rake an spade la out there in the closet, the one that Billy made An then Mother, she jus begins to sing For the harness! About a bug or somethin that happens every spring. ; Then Father he goes out an finds the shovel an the spade. Right out there in the stable, in the closet Eilly made, Air he goes out in the garden an fusses round a while. An Mother she jus watches then she begins to smile, An says, Now, .Walter, darling, I wisht youd go an see Whats the matter with your Father; it kind of seems to me That he'a feelin' sort of tired like. So 1 wait around a spell An watch my Father hoein, an' then he says, Oh, well! This here garden ain't whrt it's said to be, I guess 111 send for Hildreth. An then he calls for .me. At? sends me off for Hildreth, an Hildreth sayi, Oh, hum! I always make his garden, to I guess I got to cornel An when 1 tell my Mother, she jus begins to sing About a bug or somethin that happens every spring. sec-ave- one-quart- er s t I,m, untie Kim- - rlvra from the manner in wlikh the 1 greenish blue. |