Newspaper Page Text
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
UTTCLE OLLAPOD’S STORY.
Jack Billingslea and the Water-Melon.
E ELL, boys and girls, I
am afraid } t ou thought
I had forgotten my
promise, because my
story was not forth
tst week. The truth is,
time to prepare it until
for the paper of that
4$ week, and so concluded to give it
to you in the present number.
When I was a little boy I went to school
in the pretty little village of W , in
Middle Georgia. The teacher was a fa-
mous one, and his school numbered
more than a hundred scholars. —
There were large boys and girls,
seventeen and eighteen years of
age, and little ones of five and six,
and I can tell you that we had a
merry time, after school hours du
ring the week, and on Saturdays.
One of our favorite plays was Town
Ball, which we played sometimes
with the boys belonging to the town
on the Court House square. That
was a famous place. The street in
front of the Court House was about
one hundred and fifty yards wide,
with a dwelling house and a hotel
on the opposite side, and the office
of the Clerk of the Court a little
lower down on the same side. It
was a quiet little town, and there
was no danger of frightening horses
or interfering with pedestrians, and
on Saturday afternoon we alwavs
had a royal game of Town Ball or
this square.
Jack Billingslea was one of the largest
boys in the school. His father was very
wealthy, and lived, I think, in Florida.
Jack was a good, easy sort of hoy, not
overly smart, but a great favorite, espe
cially with the younger boys, whose
champion he was on all necessary occa
sions. He was passionately fond of Town
nail, snd always took a leading part in
the game. One sultry Saturday after
noon, in the latter part of July, we had a
long and sharply contested game on our
old ball ground, and when we stopped
playing, shortly after sundown, we were
nd nearly worn out. Jack’s face was as
1C( 1 ils a blood beet, and ho complained of
a head ache, but none of us thought any
thing of it until next morning, when we
heard that Jack Billingslea was in bed
with a raging fever.
loor Jack! everybody was sorry for
him, and the Doctor was besieged day
a fter day to know how his patient was
U RIXE ’ S WEE IX LY .
getting on. We were told that Jack had
typhoid fever, and that he was danger
ously ill. For weeks, in the middle of a
hot summer, he lay in a close room at the
hotel, where he boarded, and his school
mates were told that they need not be
surprised, any day, to hear that he was
dead.
Jack's hither had been sent for soon af
ter he was digr-ove v ed to be so sick, but
there were no .auroaus in # hose days, and
letters traveled jwly; so that it was ten
days before old Mr. Billingslea received
the one which good old Dr. Harden had
written him. People traveled then in
their own carriages, and it was quite ten
days more before the old gentleman’s car-
riage, drawn by four horses, rolled into
the quiet little town, one evening shortly
before sunset. Jack was very ill, but be
knew hm father and mother, although he
could scarcely speak above a whisper.
The.doctor’s had held a consultation that
day and decided that all the chances were
against him, and the poor old people weie
nearly heart-broken, for Jack was their
only child.
Now, little reader, I am coming to the
water-melon. I know you have been
wondering what all this had to do with a
water-melon. Well, you must know that
in those days fevers were treated very
differently from what they are now. Doc
tors then seemed to think that fresh aii
and cold water were certain death to a
fever patient, and so the rooms were kept
close and hot,and the patient’s thirst was
quenched with nothing but a little luke
warm water, with a toasted bread-crust
soaked in it. You may laugh, but I am
telling you the simple truth —ask your
fathers and mothers if I am not. Poor
Jack Biiiingslea was dying of fever and
thirst. The town was full of water-mel
ons glorious ones with red meat and
black seeds, —and Jack had begged the
old Doctor, day after day, for a piece of a
water-melon, but of course it was refused.
W ell, when his father came the water
melon was the first thing he begged for.
r I lie doctors had told Jack that he was
going to die, and so he said to his father,
the morning after he came:
“Father, I’m going to die anyhow, so
do let me eat a piece of water-melon. I
am burning up with thirst, and if I am to
die, the melon cannot hurt me.”
The old gentleman loved Jack
better than everything in the world,
and he determined to gratify him.
The Doctor protested, but a large,
ripe water-melon was procured.—
Jack’s eyes watered when it was
cut open, and it would have done
any one of you boys good to see how
ravenously he swallowed spoonful
after spoonful of the delicious juice,
as his father fed it to him. I believe
he would have eaten every bit of it
if the old gentleman had not stop
ped when he thought Jack had had
enough.
Well, boys, that water-melon
cured Jack Biliinglea. He fell asleep
after eating it, the perspiration
started from bis hitherto parched
skin, and when he woke, four or five
hours afterwards, he was pronoun
ced out of danger, and soon got well.
I believe that case opened some of
the doctor's eyes. At all events,
cases of fever now-a-days are treat-
ed in a more humane manner.
— -
THE BLx\CK SQUIRREL.
h YEHY boy and girl docs
not know that the Black
Sciurus Caroliniensis , or common
Grev Squirrel, which is found all
over the United States, cast ot the
% iSk Missouri river. It is from nine to
' 9 eleven inches long from the head
to the beginning of the tail, and the tail
is about an inch longer than the head and
body. The Southern and Northern grey
squirrel have been considered distinct
species, but later naturalists consider them
as varieties of one species. The Southern
variety is smaller than the Northern, and,
according to Audubon, of different habits.
They are found of every shade of color
from gray to jet black, and are easily
tamed, making very pretty pets.
189