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PRESERVING TIME.
Said Mrs. Baldwin Apple
To Mrs. Bartlett Pear:
"You're growing very plump, madam,
And also very fair.
"And there is Mrs. Clingstone Peach
So mellowed by the heat,
Upon my word she really looks
Quite good enough to eat.
"And all the Misses Crabapple
Have blushed so rosy red
That very soon the farmer's wife
To pluck them will be led.
"Just Bee the Isabellas;
They're growing so apace
That they are really 'beginning
To get purple in the face.
"Our happy time is over,
For Mrs. Green Gage Plum
Says she knows unto her sorrow
Preserving time has come."
"Yes," said Mrs. Bartlett Pear,
"Our day is almost o'er,
And soon we shall be smothering
In syrup by the score."
And before the month was ended
The fruits that looked so fair
Had vanished from among the leaves,
And the trees were stripped and bare.
They were all of them in pickle.
"I'm cider," cried the apple;
"I'm jelly," cried the grape.
They were all in jars and bottles
Upon the shelf arrayed;
And in their midst poor Mrs. Quince
Was turned to marmalade.
HOW EI SIE SAW THE CIRCUS.
BV FRED MYRON COLBY.
Every boy and girl dearly loves to go to a circus,
and so when little Elsie Clark, on her way
home from school saw the flaming bills of the
"Greatest Show on Earth" pasted on neighbor
Brown's big barn, the girl naturally expressed
nerseit as desirous or Deing present at that delectable
exhibition. She ran home with flying
feet, her head full of the sense of the vivid pictures
of the dashing horses, the trained elephants.
the caged lions and hears, and the whole
glittering paraphernalia of the "Greatest Conglomeration
of Eccentricities."
"Oh, ma!" she exclaimed, as she rushed into
the house, "there's going to be a circus here next
week, and mayn't I go?"
Good Mr?\ Clark looked up from her ironing
tit was Wednesday afternoon), and her flushed,
tired face lighted at her daughter's voice, but
her answer was not reassuring.
"I don't know what your father will think
about it," she said. "It is a very busy season
and money is scarce, and you know our mortgage
is not paid yet. But you can ask him."
And Elsie did ask him when he came in to
supper, tired and hungry, telling him all about
the big colored posters with their great display
of marvels.
"What day is it?" he asked.
"One week from tomorrow," replied Elsie,
and, oh, mayn't T go?" "We'll see, child, we'll
see. Quarters are pretty scarce, 'but we'll see."
.ElAie was not exactly sure what that meant,
but she had confidence in her father, and she
knew that if it was possible he would give his
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SC
and Girls
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consent when the time came, for he was a kind
y
and devoted parent.
The Olarks lived about a mile out of a small
New Hampshire village, on a large farm which
was not wholly paid for, and Elsie, a girl of
twelve, helped a great deal about the place, for
this was back in the "fifties" and girls and boys
were not afraid of work in those days. She
made the beds and fed the chickens and harnessed
the horses, and often helped spread and rake
hay in the field, for there were no boys in the
Clark family, and Elsie was as brown and
healthy as a young Arab.
She did not say anything more about the
circus for several days, but every night she
dreamed of the great show, and every day the
desire grew greater and greater to go and see
its splendid realities. A circus and menagerie
was not of every day occurrence, and she felt
that if she could only go and see all that aggregation
of wonders it would be the day of her
life. To stir Elsie's desire all the more, nearly
all of her friends and schoolmates had proudly
announced that they were going, and Jim Crane,
ner next aoor neignoor naa Doastingly shown
a brand-new silver quarter that his father had
eriven him for admission to the show. Elsie felt
that if she only had a quarter she would give
anything in the world.
The days hurried by, and before she hardly
realized it a week had passed. The morning of
the circus arrived and sunny?an ideal day for
merry-making. Elsie's heart was all in a flutter
as her father came in and sat down at the breakfast
table.
"Well, Honey," he said, "I am afraid we
cant quite afford the quarter this year, but
your mother and I have been talking it over, and
if you will harness old Dan, after the chores are
done, you and she can ride over to town and see
the parade. That will be better than nothing,
won't it, Elsie?" and he leaned over and patted
her blonde curls.
"Oh, yes, father," fflie answered, though there
was a lump in her throat, "that will be real
niee. T wish you could go, too."
"T have all the fences to look after down in
the lower meadow lot," declared the farmer,
"and I have got to hustle. I am awfully sorry,
little girl, that you can't go to the circus, but
have as good a time as you can, and don't worry
about my dinner."
"You arc a dear, good father," cried Elsie,
kissing him, and somehow or other it didn't seem
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nuuil it l ViVLlUIl aner an.
After her father's departure Elsie helped do
the dishes and make the beds, and then she went
to the barn to brush off Dan, and harness and
have him ready before she dressed. The parade
was set at eleven o'clock, and it was a mile and
a half to the village; and they wanted to be there
in good season to see it ail.
It was a warm, sultry June morning with a
good deal of moisture in the air, and as Elsie was
throwing tbo harness on lean's back she heard
the mutter of thunder. Sure enough there was
an angry cloud coming up in the west, and
standing in the doorway of the barn she could
see the sky gradually become overcast with the
dark, threatening clouds. A shower was surely
eoming on and likely as not it would prevent
them from seeing the parade.
She hitched Dan to the carriage and leaving
him standing on the barn floor, Elsie was about
to go to the house when she was startled by a
disturbance behind the barn. The hens were
IUTH [May 29, 1912 I
cackling, the pigs were squealing, the cows were
lowing and there was a general commotion. Such I
an uproar betokened some dire calamity, the
nature of which she had no idea. But she was
not long in finding out.
Back of the barn stood a pig-shed, a small,
wooden building, with a stout rail fence on one I
side of it and connected with it by a sliding
wooden door. Within this shed and enclousure
were kept half a dozen young porkers which I
were being fed for the winter market, and with
which Mr. Clark contemplated paying off the
last of the mortgage on his farm. It was toward
this spot that Elsie's feet were directed by the
increasing turmoil. What she saw for a moment
almost paralyzed her.
In the midst of the enclosure was a long, lithe,
tawny-colored creature, with eyes like burning
coals, engaged in the somewhat arduous task of
carrying off one of the young swine who was
wriggling desperately and making the mast vociferous
squeals. Elsie had no idea what the
animal was or how dangerous it might he, but
she was not dispased to see one of her father's
cherished porkers carried away without at least
interposing a protest. Seizing a hoe, the only
weapon at hand, she sallied to the pig's defense.
Mounting the rail fence she struck vigorously at
the animal, but this only made the creature
growl more fiercely while he showed no disposition
to relinquish his attack upon the pig. Elsie
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whs nut tu ue uuupiiLs.sc(i, riowever. springing
over the fence into the enclosure the plucky girl
attacked the animal in the rear. Just at that
moment there came a severe clap of thunder,
almost deafening in its detonation. The discharge
of a celestial artillery together with the
girl's amazing and unexpected attack seemed
to have the effect of confounding the animal,
and to Elsie's surprise, the beast relinquished
its hold of the frenzied pig and rushed into the
piggery. Quick as a flash Elsie closed the sliding
door and made it fast. Whatever the animal
might be she had it safely imprisoned, with no
danger of its getting free.
The rain was now falling in torrents, and Elsie
ran into the barn and stood by the side of Dan
until it was over. Her father also came up from
the field, '' wei as a drowned rat," as he expressed
it, and you can imagine his surprise and
amazement as Elsie related her adventure.
"It was as big as a calf, father," she said.
"What kind of a creature can it be?"
"It must he a panther, child, but how did you
dare to attack it? It might have torn you to
pieces."
"I thought only of saving the pig, father,
and the animal never showed a disposition to
turn upon me."
"More than likely the beast has escaped from
the circus," declared Mr. Clark; "a wild panther
would have been more ferocious. Anyway you
were lucky not to get hurt."
Mr. Clark's suggestion proved to be a fact, for
before the shower was over a carriage drove up
with two men in it who, upon alighting immediately
made known their errand.
"One of our cougars escaped from its cage
last night. The animal was seen to make its way
in this direction. Have you seen or heard anyii.
*. e i i a t i _U *V???
Tiling 01 sucn a creaturp?" inquired one 01
men.
"Do you think you would know the beast if
you should see it?" returned Mr. Clark, in the
usual Yankee manner.
"Certainly we would,?a huge ferocious creature.
I would know it among a hundred."
"Well, I guess Elsie can show you the animal.
She has it caged."
"What do you mean? This girl?how did
she secfire it?"
"The brute was trying to make away
one of my pigs, and she drove him into the pi?'
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