Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

150 To the Katydid. Where are you, little Katydid ? I hear your funny song; So safe among the bushes hid, Do you sing all night long ? I wonder if you’re ever tired Os chirping nothing new : If I were you, I’d try for once To change a note or two. They say you are a prophet-bird; Your voice must not be lost, Since your first note tells the fact, In six weeks we’ll have frost. But, Katy, it does seem to me You rather loudly sing ; Y 7 ou surely make too great a noise For such a little thing ; For don’t you know big people say, And we must mind their word, That young folks should, like you and me, Be seen, not often heard ? Now “ Katy did,” then “Katy didn’t” — ’Tis very sad to see That children of one family Will sometimes disagree. Don’t quarrel, Katy, try to sing A little gentle song, For mother tells me, Katy dear, To contradict is wrong. But then I don’t suppose you mean To be unkind a bit; I know you’re never rude or cross, It only sounds like it. God made you, Katy, thus to sing ; He knows the reason why ; The little while He lets yon live You work, then humbly die. So ought I to fulfill my part, What I am made to do ; Through all the life God gives mo bo An earnest worker, too. Written for Burke’s Weekly. JACK DOBELL; Or, A Boy’s Adventures in Texas. A STORY FOR BOYS. CHAPTER XII. A HURRIED PROPOSAL ESCAPE FROM CAP TIVITY B RECAPTURED —HIDING FROM THE MEXICANS A DISMAL NIGHT AND A BRIGHT MORNING —ON THE BACK TRACK —A DESERTED CAMP —NO SIGNS OF B — AND II —. COMFORTABLE QUARTERS. UR Mexican captor pro cam P> keeping however at a respectful distance OCT from us, for; although fwfog he could see that we were totally unarmed, he was evidently suspi eious that we might take him, some way or other, at an advantage. As we walked along I hurriedly proposed to B that when we got to a point of timber to which I perceived the Mexican was leading us, we should suddenly make a break into the bottom, and endeavor to effect our escape under cover of the tim ber and the obscurity of the night, which was now fast approaching. B made no reply to this proposal, but I took it for granted that he had consented to it, as it was obviously the only possible mode of effecting our escape. BURKE’S WEEKLY. When we were nearly abreast of this point of timber, we suddenly darted into the woods, but the Mexican was too quick for B , whom he pursued and over took, at the same time calling out to his comrades u to come there quickly and bring their guns.” 1 heard him also tell ing them the direction I had gone. I had learned to speak Spanish among the Mex icans at Goliad, and of course I under stood all that he said. Several of the Mexicans who followed me passed within a few yards of where I was secreted, but owing to the thick undergrowth, and the increasing darkness —for the sun by this time had set —they did not notice me. Very soon afterwards, the sky became overcast with clouds, and a drizzling rain began to fall, but I traveled on until it grew so dark I could scarcely see my hand before me, and finding it impossible any longer to keep in a particular course, I laid down at the root of a tree, upon which there was a thick growth of Span ish moss, which served in a measure to protect me from the rain. I did not dare, however, to build a fire, as I was afraid the light from it might betray me to the Mexicans, if they were still in pursuit of me. I never felt so desponding, since I had made my escape from Goliad, as I did that night. My separation from my com panions—my uncertainty as to their fate —the thought of my helpless situation, without anything in the shape of a weap on wherewith to protect myself against the attacks of wild beasts or of the more merciless Indians and Mexicans, and the mournful howling of a number of wolves, together with the cravings of hunger, all conspired to fill my mind with gloomy forebodings and anticipations. However, notwithstanding such unpleasant thoughts and surroundings, fatigue at length overcame me, and I fell into a sound sleep. When I awoke, daylight was already visible in the east. The birds were sing ing and the squirrels chattering in the tiees overhead. The storm had blown o\ ci, and after brushing off the damp leaves that adhered to my clothes, my toilette was made, and I started back in the direction I had come from the eve ning before, determined that I would re tui n to the place where I had separated from my companions, in the hope that I might rejoin one or perhaps both of them. I came out of the bottom just at the point where I had entered it the evening before, but no living thing was visible, as far as my eye could extend upon the prairie, except some herds of deer and a flock of wild turkeys. I proceeded cau tiously along the edge of the timber, un til I came to where we had seen the Mex ican horses staked out. They were gone and hearing no sounds from the place near by in the woods, where the Mexi cans had been encamped, I ventured in to reconoitre. Their fires were still smoking, but they too had gone, and no thing was left to indicate what had been the probable fate of my companions. I then returned to the prairie and traveled up and down the edge of the timber for four or five miles both ways. All day long I wandered up and down the timber bordering on the La Vaca, in search of my comrades, when, having abandoned all hopes of finding them, I struck out across the prairie in the di rection I intended traveling. After going a half a mile or so, I accidentally looked back towards the river, and discovered a house that had been previously hid from me by a projecting point of timber. As I was suffering greatly from hunger, I concluded to return and examine the premises for something to eat. I ap proached cautiously, for fear it might be occcupied by a marauding party of Mex icans, but seeing nothing to excite my suspicions, I ventured in. Every thing about the house—furniture broken and strewed in fragments over the floor—beds ripped open and their contents scattered around, —showed plainly that it had not escaped a visitation from some of the plundering bands of “ Rancheros ” that infested the country. However, in an out-house adjoining the main building, I found a small piece of bacon, and a bushel or two of corn. Some of this corn I ground upon a steel mill that I also found upon the premises. I then made up a small fire in the chimney, and filling a kettle with water, I put into it a pound or so of the bacon, and about a quart of meal, which, when well cooked, afforded me a sumptuous banquet. By this time it was dark, and spreading some bed clothes that were left in the house, upon the floor of one of the rooms, I laid down up on them and slept soudly till morning. ♦♦♦ J[k§M Lilly and Fred were playing at house-keeping with a family of dolls. One of the dollies behav.ed very badly, and Lilly shut her up by herself, saying : “How you must stay in your room hah an hour.” “ You better’pank her, Lilly,” suggested little Fred, “ ’cause she can’t fink about it, and she won’t never get sorry it 3 011 do shut her up.” Pretty good reasoning for a three-yea 1 • old.