Golden Moments
Page 17
listening, and then Ferdy turned very red and did notsay anything for some minutes.
"Look here, Alf," he said at last; "I'll give you my share of the boat,and then you shall call it what you like."
"Oh, no!" I said, "you must have half--and so you shall, for if you giveme your share I'll give you mine."
So we settled it very nicely in that way, and called the boat "IsabelAmy;" and all the afternoon Amy Stevens played that she was the captainand we were the sailors.
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"BLIND TOMMY."
What a funny name for a dog! But I will tell you how he happened to getit. Blind Charlie was his master, and he was the happiest old man I everknew.
Charlie used to sit reading the blind people's Bible, beside asheltering wall, at the Royal Academy in Edinburgh, Blind Tommy, withhis little pitcher in his mouth, begging for pennies. I got to know themso well that, every time I passed, Charlie allowed the dog to put hispitcher down, while I fed him with a biscuit or bun. I made him a nicewarm coat, too, for the cold days.
One day I missed them both, and I went at once to Charlie's lodgings.Here I found that on his way home one dark night, Charlie had beenknocked down by a carriage, and had his leg broken. He had been carriedhome, and the neighbors had been very kind and had got him a doctor."But, oh, ma'am," he said, "there's no nurse like Tommy! He sits closebeside me, and seems to know everything I want. If I am thirsty, I say,'Tommy, some water,' and off he goes with his little pitcher to thebucket, fills it, and carries it so carefully back to me."
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THE GHOST IN THE GARDEN.
Harry Peters had to cross the common one evening in the dark, and,though his father had sent him to post a letter, he could not get on,for he saw a ghost, as he fancied, in the garden near the lane, and hishair stood almost on end. There it was, rising white and spectral beforehim with outstretched, slowly moving arms. Harry uttered a piercingshriek, for the boys at school had told him some dreadful ghost stories,and he quite expected to be carried off by those ghostly beckoning arms.His father was very vexed that he had lost the post, and would notbelieve he had seen a ghost.
"There are no such things," he said; "light the lantern and we'll driveyour ghost away. Some silly boy has been frightening you."
Harry's big brother declared he would pay the boy out for shammingghosthood, and so the three went together, followed by the dog, barkingloudly.
And what do you think Harry's ghost turned out to be? The white shirtbelonging to the cobbler, which his wife had hung up to dry in theirback garden.
Harry has left off believing in ghosts now; and if ever he sees oneagain, he intends to go right up to it, and find out all about it,instead of running away.
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THE ARTLESS ANGLERS.
I
Three little trots made up their minds That they would fishing go,For there were fish within the brook, Their brothers told them so.Some pins and thread and withes they took, Likewise a lump of dough.
II
The eldest of these little trots Was seven if a day,And deem'd herself a trusty guide Because she knew the wayThat led down to the waterside, Where fish for catching lay!
III
Each quickly into proper shape Bent up the fatal pin,And tied it carefully with thread Upon a withy thin.Then little Bell the eldest said: "We're ready to begin!"
IV
They cast their lines into the brook, And watch'd with careful eyesIn case some finny feeder might Be taken by surprise,And tempted be to have a bite, Not being overwise!
V
For hours they sat, but sport had none, Yet ceas'd not watch to keep;Then little Bell remark'd I think They must be all asleep!Their hopes at last began to sink, The eldest wish'd to weep!
VI
Still on they sat most patiently, Scarce murm'ring at their fate,When all at once cried little Bell, "Stupidity I hate!I see the reason very well, We quite forgot the bait!"
VII
Too true! the dough lay there untouch'd Among the grass and mould;And now 'twas time they home should go, As chimes distinctly told;Moreover rain came on, and so They only caught a cold!
E. Oxenford.
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A WALK IN COLOMBO.
Colombo, as most of my readers will remember, is in Ceylon, thatbeautiful island lying to the south of India.
You would think the people very funny, seeing them for the first time.The man in the picture, who is walking with the little English girl, isa Hindu, and probably you have often seen pictures like him. Nearly allthe servants and laborers in Colombo are Hindus from Madras, but thenatives of the island are called Cingalese, and are very different inevery way.
The men wear their hair in a big knob at the back like a woman, and onthe top of that is fastened a comb, shaped like a half-circle, with theends pointed to the face. The whole costume is a mixture of native andEnglish fashions. The usual hat is a little round felt one, such as youmay see any day on boys at home, and which you have perhaps yourself.The next garment is also what you might expect to see on a man; that is,a cloth coat, or rather shooting-jacket; but after that comes a longflowing skirt, which you certainly would not see on any man or boy athome. The Cingalese men bestow a good deal of attention on this skirt.Poorer people have it made in white or blue calico, but others use veryhandsome India stuffs, which must have cost a lot of money.
The heat in Colombo is very great, and the roads are very dusty. Nowonder the people often feel hot and tired, and are very glad to liedown and take a little sleep when they can. They also cool themselves bystanding in some pools near the town. The cattle do the same, and youcan just see the heads of the buffaloes and of the men above the levelof the water. They stand that way for an hour or two, perfectly still;but the little children who go in keep jumping about and splashing eachother.
You may see in this picture the fruit shops in the native quarter of thetown, and bunches of bananas or plantains hanging up. Other shops sellgrain, which the people chiefly live upon. It is nothing unusual to seethe grain merchant lying fast asleep on the top of his store of rice orother grain. Outside many houses stands a wooden bedstead, and the oldpeople lie there asleep a great part of the day. The Cingalese are saidto be very kind to old people, which is a very good trait in theircharacter. I wish they were a little kinder to their animals, but theynever seem to think that poor bullocks have any feeling at all. Thecarts in Colombo are drawn by bullocks, and they have a very hard timeof it. The rope used as reins is passed through a hole bored throughtheir nostrils, and a heavy beam of wood rests on their backs. Worsestill, they are branded all over, not only with the owner's initials,but with all sorts of fanciful ornamental figures; the cruel people whodo this never caring what the unfortunate animals suffer while it isbeing done. The houses are often painted outside with animals and birdsin the brightest colors; and some of these wall pictures are so absurdthat strangers always stop to look and laugh at them.
"Ho! 'Hamed! _dear_ 'Hamed, you _will_ let me ride Prince Albert Victor,won't you?"
The speaker was a little, brown, black-eyed boy, with dark tangled locksunder his old red fez, and clad in a dirty white cotton garment, who wascoaxing a tall Egyptian lad in a very irresistible way. Children coaxmuch the same all the world over, to get their way, be they white orblack or brown. In this case little Hassan got his. And what was it hewanted?
'Hamed, an Egyptian donkey-boy, was leaving home early in the morning asusual, leaving his dim, dirty quarters in the native part of Cairo forthe European part of the city. And with him, as usual, was going PrinceAlbert Victor.
Prince Albert Victor was only a donkey, a very nice, strong, well-fedEgyptian donkey, but nothing more, in spite of his gra
nd name. But allthe Cairo donkeys which stand about the streets for hire have very grandnames given to them by their owners to attract the European tourists.For instance, some boy will call his donkey by an American name--such asWashington, or Yankee-doodle--that the American travellers may fancyhim. Another, with a view to a Frenchman or an Englishman, will christenhis animal President Carnot or Lord Salisbury. 'Hamed had called hisPrince Albert Victor; for he found a royal name very popular, not onlywith English travellers, but with the red-coated British soldiers whopervade the streets of Cairo.
Now, little Hassan wanted, as usual, to ride Albert Victor down from hishome to his habitual waiting-place in front of one of the big hotels. Itwas such a delight to him to thrust his bare brown feet into thestirrup-leathers (his legs were too short to reach the stirrups), and,clutching Albert Victor's bridle, and sitting very erect, to fancyhimself very grand indeed as