Newspaper Page Text
ammunition used by the Mexicans had
been better. The Mexicans, as they after
wards admitted themselves, lost upwards
of four hundred in killed and wounded.
The enemy retired to the timber on
our right, leaving squads of cavalry at
various points to watch our movements.
After night had set in, a long line of fires
upon the edge of the forest denoted the
position of their encampment. The night
was dark and drizzly, which, together
with the cries of our wounded, who were
suffering greatly for water, produced a
dispiriting effect upon the men. If we
had had the means of transportation for
our wounded, we would have continued
our march after night to the timber on
the Coletto, but all of our oxen had either
been killed during the fight or had es
caped to the prairie, where I suppose they
were captured by the Mexicans; and as I
have stated before, our small party of
horse, under Capt. Horton, had been cut
off from us in the beginning of the fight,
and were unable to regain our lines.
Under these circumstances, we had either
to abandon our wounded or remain with
them and take the chances, and we unani
mously chose the latter alternative.
«.«■*.
Written for Burke's Weekly.
THE FAIRY’S SHELL;
A Story for Little Boys.
BY UNCLE JOE.
VERY long time ago —
many years before you
rJlfT or werc born, little
Bm reader, there lived in a
JjjL/V f ai >..off country a little
wteyjboy named Arthur, who was never
satisfied, but who was always com
plaining about something or other.
He had good, kind parents, and
. though the3 r werc poor, and had to
work, they gave him plenty to cat and
good clothes to wear, and tried to make
him good and happy, but for all that he
was never content. If his good mother
wanted him to bring her some water
horn the spring, or fetch her some chips,
or kindle the fire for her to cook his din
ner, ho would begin to fret, and some
times cry, and say lie had more to do
than any other little boy in the world.
If he went to play with other little
boys, he would get mad, and would not
play with them unless they would play
just as he wanted. And then when his
good, kind parents wanted him to go to
school, he would and beg them to let
him stay at home and play with his little
( log Rover, or make little houses in the
sand, or chase the butterflies in the
woods.
TT It IX E’s \V EEIX L Y .
I expect some of my readers will think
Arthur was a very naughty boy, and so
he was; but 1 am afraid there are many
Arthurs in the world yet.
Well, one bright day Arthur’s mother
told him to take his little basket and go
into the forest close by and pick her some
berries. How, Arthur was very fond of
berries and pies, but just then he was
making a little boat to sail in the brook
that ran by the house, so he told his
mother that it was too far, and that the
sun was too hot, and the briars scratched
his hands, and had a great many excuses
to keep from doing as his mother bid him,
for he wanted to play with his little boat.
But when lie found that his mother
would make him go whether he wanted
to or not, he took his basket and went
off crying and complaining that his
mother made him do everything. lie
soon came to the bushes, which were
loaded with berries, but instead of making
haste to fill his basket, he went from one
bush to another, thinking the best ones
were always further on.
After a while a large butterfly, with
wings like gold, sailed by, and he put
down his basket.and ran after the gaudy
insect. Sometimes the pretty thing
would stop on a flower, but just as he
was going to catch it, away it would go,
and then ho would run again, thinking
he would be sure to get it the next time.
He was so eager to capture it that he
did not notice how far he was going, nor
did ho look which way ho w r ent. After a
while he came to a large stream, and the
butterfly sailed across without so much
as bidding the little boy good-bye. Ar
thur watched it till it was quite across
the river, and then he shook his little fist
at it, and said:
“Go! you old ugly thing! I wish I
was a bird, so I could fly 1 ' after you and
eat you up in a minute !”
But, as he wa§ not a bird, his cruel
wish did not do him any good, so he be
gan to think about going back ; but when
he looked around, he did not know which
way to go, and discovered that he was
lost.
Arthur was not a bravo boy, and in
stead of trying to find his way out of the
forest, as some of my little readers would
have done, he lay down on the grass and
began to cry, and wish he was back at
home. Then he saw how bad it was to
disobey his mother, for if he had filled
his basket quickly, and gone back, he
would not have been lost.
While he was lying on the ground,
pulling up the grass, and crying about
his home, he saw the water in the rivor
begin to bubble, aiuL presently a little
woman rose up out of the water close to
him. She had on a pretty green dress,
with green leaves bound around her head,
and on her arm she had a little basket
full of beautiful shells.
Arthur was so surprised that he forgot
to cry, and sat staring at the little woman,
with his eyes wide open with wonder.
“Little boy,” said she, “what is the
matter ?”
“I’m hungry and tired, and lost, and
don’t know how to go home,” said he,
and then he began to blubber again.
“Well, little boy,” said the tiny wo
man, “hush crying, and you shall see.
your home again. Take this shell and
keep it in your pocket, and go the way
the wind is blowing, and it will take you
to your basket again. But you must
never let anybody see the shell, and if
you ever lose it, you can never get another
one.” *
Then she gave him a bright rosy shell
out of her basket, and while he was star
ing at her she sank down in the water
again, and was soon out of sight.
Arthur did not know what to think of
all this, but the wind began to blow, and
he ran as hard as he could, with the shell
in his pocket. But it seemed to him that
the sun shone brighter, and the birds
sang sweeter, and the flowers looked
brighter, than ever before. In a little
while he found his basket, and then he
commenced picking berries as fast as he
could, and whistling as gaily as the birds
over his head. He soon had his basket
full, after which he ran home to his
mother, but he did not tell her about the
little woman, and the shell, for he was
afraid she would take the shell away
from him.
But a great change came over Arthur,
for he left off crying and fretting, and
became the happiest little boy in all the
country. When his mother told him to
do anything, he would run as fast as he
could, whistling and singing all the way
as happy as a lark. Then, when it was
time to go to school, he would take his
little tin bucket and his books, and run
away to the school-house with a bright
face, and when the boys went out to
play, he was as gay and cheerful as any
of them, so that in a little while there
was not a better boy in all the country.
He always kept the shell hid, and I sup
pose he must have kept it. all his life, for
I have heard that he Was never ill and
fretful any more, and that he lived to be
a very, very old man.
Little boys, would you not like to have
such a shell? There are no fairies now
to givo you one, but you can have one if
you wish. It is called Good Nature.
91