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26
How Thomasina
Earned the Turkey
When Bob Failed the Cat Furnished the Thanks
giving Dinner.
Bob had picked out the turkey he
■wanted. It hung big and white and fat
fcn Mrs. Bowles’ window, and M,r.
Bowles had promised to keep him for
Bob until the very last minute.
“I haven’t got but seventy cents. Mr.
Bowles,” Bob had explained, "but may
be I can make the rest to-night.”
But he made only thirty cents on his
papers that evening, and the turkey
was a dollar and a half. So it was a
sad Bob who greeted his family on the
top floor of the tall tenement.
There were four in Bob's family—lit
tle lame Betty, Thomasina, the big
gray cat, and Thomaeina’s kitten, Tod
dlekins.
Thomasina and Toddlekins met Bob
at the door, and gave him a cordial
welcome with waving tails and soft
*‘purr-r-r-ups,'’ while little lame Betty
called to him from her chair by the
window.
■’Dear brother Tom, did you get the
turkey?”
"Not yet,” he said, trying to speak
cheerfully, "but it looks like snow, and
if it does, I’ll clear off pavements in the
morning, and tbtet will help.”
■‘l've asked poor Mrs. McDougall and
all the little McDougalls to Thanks
giving dinner,” said Betty, eagerly.
"They’re dreadfully poor, and never
have anything good to eat.”
“But if we shouldn’t get the turkey,
Betty,” said Bob, dismayed.
"Oh, you’ll get it,” said Betty, who !
had wonderful faith in Bob.
But Bob was only twelve, and it
wasn’t easy to make both ends meet.
That night when Betty was asleep
in her tiny room, Bob sat in front of
the fire and thought it all out, while
Thomasina purred a lullaby to Toddle
kins under the little stove.
Presently she jumped on the win
dow sill, and looked into the night.
"You’re a good old thing,” said Bob,
mu in wm i————————— m .
She crept with stealthy tread toward the shadows of a dark corner.
"but you haven’t an Idea In your
head.”
But just at this moment an old gen- !
tleman across the street glanced out
of the window of his handsome house
and saw Thomasina, who looked very
large and dark against the background
of glowing light.
For a moment he gazed at her; then
he rang a bell, which was answered
by a boy with a great many brass but
tons.
"Go over and borrow that cat,” said
the old gentleman, pointing to Thom
asina. 4
“Wh-a-at?” stammered the boy.
“Go and borrow that cait,” com
manded the old gentleman. “The
house is full of mice. I’ve tried traps
—no good. Tried poison—they thrive
on it. Nothing left but to get a cat—
get that cat ”
“But. sir.” began the brass-button
ed boy, “if vou will eat crackers and
cheese at night, sir ”
“Hold your tongue," raged the old
gentleman, “I shall eat what I please;”
and he thumped his cane hard on the
floor and glared at the frightened boy,
•who fled downstairs and across the
street.
“I want to borrow your cat," he ex
plained. breathlessly, to Bob.
"What—a—at?” faltered Bob.
“Old gentleman across the way can't
sleep; mice, you know; he asked me
to get her."
“Oh,” said Bob. “why, of course, he
tan have her, that Is, if she will go.”
But Thomasina would not go with
the brass-buttoned boy, so Bob cradled
her carefully in his arms and carried
her over.
It was a magnificent house. Bob’s
OLD GOBBLER
EASY TO DRAW.
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dou can make a picture of him Itcrc without being an artist.
T l.***, f< f ‘his picture I* a lead pencil ss aoft aa you can get It.
for n*ure 1 snd begin to draw, going from 1 t 2. fioni 2 to J.
If . atrmn. y, *\ “>• numbers carefully you wIU have a line picture
w * atruttlng gobbler.
old shoes had never stepped on such
soft carpets, he had never seen such
glass and silver as shone in the din
ing room, or imagined such soft, easy
chairs as he found in the old gentle
man’s room when at last he entered
it.
"Oh.” said the old gentleman peer
] ing around at Bob from his seat in
I front of the fire. "So that’s the cat,
| is it?”
“Yes, sir,” said Bob, "and she’s a
fine mouser.”
He set Thomasina down on the floor,
and she crouched half frightened on
the rug. Then, suddenly, she began
to sniff, her tail lashed back and forth,
and she crept with stealthy tread to
wards the shadows of a dark corner.
The old gentleman watched her with
delight. "She smells ’em,” he said.
“Now. what will you sell her for?”
"Sell Thomasina?” quavered Bob.
"Oh, I couldn't.
"Why not?” fumed the old man, who
could not bear to be crossed.
"She belongs to Betty,” said Bob,
"and Betty loves her.”
"Who’s Betty?” demanded the old
gentleman, with great irritation.
“My sister,” said Bob, softly, "and
she is lame.”
Then he told about his little sister,
and about Thomasina, and Toddlekins
and how the four lived happily in the
attic of the tenement across the way.
And when Bob finished, the old gen
tleman held out his hand.
"Of course you couldn't sell Thom
asina,” he said. “I’ll send hex over
to-morrow morning, right side up,
with care.”
The next morning Betty listened
with round eyes, while Bod told his
tale. It seemed so funny to have
Thomasina carried off on such an er
rand. Meanwhile, Toddlekins mourn
ed for his mother, and mewed plain
tively.
"Well, she can have some of the
turkey when she comes back," said
Betty, comfortably.
“I’m awfully afraid we can’t have
the turkey, Betty, dear.” said Bob, as
he picked up his shabby cap. “It
didn’t snow after all, and so there are
no pavements to clean."
“All right," said little Betty, trying
to be brave, though there were tears
In her patient eyes.
Just then the door opened and the
brass-buttoned boy dropped Thomasina
over the threshold.
The old cat came in with her head
in the air, her tail waving. Around
her neck was a red ribbon, and tied
in the ribbon was something green.
"It’s a five dollar bill,” said Bob,
wonderlngly. as he unfolded the note.
Scribbled on a bit of paper was this
message:
“Thomasina caught five mice, and
they were worth a dollar apiece, for
I slept like a king. Please bring lit
tle Betty to see me sometime, and
Thomasina and Toddlekins, for I am a
lonely old man.”
“Oh," said Betty, breathlessly, her
little face aglow with delight; “and
now we can have the turkey, and the
MeDougadls, Bob. and a real Thanks
giving.”
“Yes,” said Bob. with an affection
ate glance at the old cat, who had
gone straight to Toddlekins and was
fussing over him after her long ab
sence; "and it was Thomasina who
earned It.”
Correct Sentences Hidden In Last
Sunday's Concealed Sentences.
The right and wrong ways of say
ing things are vastly different.
If at flrßt you don’t succeed, try,
try again.
The sun. that brief December day,
rose cheerless over hills of gray.
Everything that is worth doing, is
worth doing well.
Go to the ant, thou sluggard. Con
sider its ways and be wise.
Fear makes cowards of us all.
Solution of Lost . Snuday’e Word
Pnsslo,
The two words hidden In lost Sun
day's numerical word puzzle were
"Thanksgiving Day.”
SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY. NOVEMBER 20. 1904.
THE TURKEY GOBBLER’S ESCAPE.
How can he make It?
Three days before Thanksgiving Mr. Turkey Gobbler was sitting at the
lower edge of this picture. He looked abroad and saw himself confronted
by enemies, human and animal. But he saw' that he could escape them, if
he could only manage to make the three days’ journey to the upper edge
of the picture.
To make his first day's jurney successfully, he had to start from the lower
edge of the picture and reach one of th points marked "A” on the left hand.
These "A” points represent apple trees and on one of them poor old Tur
key Gobbler had to roost over night. He had to find some way to go to
the correct one of these points “A” in a perfectly straight line, without
touching the fox or the knife or axe or the ponds, etc.
The second daV’s problem was to make his way in another perfectly
straight line to the right-hand side of the picture to a certain balsam tree.
The points “B" denote various balsam trees. On one of these Mr. Turkey
roosted.
The third day’s voyage was for the upper edge, where he reached safety.
See if you could have escaped, had you been a turkey.
Grandmother and the Gobbler
Did She Save Him or Did He Save Her?
By TEMPLE BAILEY.
Illustrated by Noble Ives.
"I stfall kill him for Thanksgiving,”
said Grandmother regretfully, as she :
and Billee and Baby stood watching
the great turkey spread his wings and
strut around the little poultry yard. |
The gobbler perched his head on one I
side and looked at her out of his bead- i
like eyes. Then he puffed himself out j
grandly.
“Gobble, gobble, gobble,” he uttered
hoarsely.
“He’s company for me,” she said,
“and I hate to lose him, but it would
be foolish for me to keep him—and you 1
children coming here to Thanksgiving
dinner, too,"
But the children didn’t go to Grand
mother; for the day before Thanksgiv- |
ing, Mother was taken sick, and Fath
er wrote to Grandmother to come to
the big farm.
“I’m afraid we won’t celebrate
much,” he said, “for our turkeys all |
died in the spring, and Mary won't be ;
'able to get up big dinner, now that
she is sick.”
So when Grandmother got the note,
she baked twelve pumpkin pies and a
great pot of beans, and when she
climbed that evening into the sleigh,
there was the gobbler in a great ham
per, with a quilt tied over him to keep
him from freezing.
“X might have killed and carried him
easier,” she said to Seth Mills, who
drove, "but somehow I couldn't do it,
he’s so tame, and Tom won’t mind do
ing it, and those children are going to
have a Thanksgiving dinner, if they
couldn’t come to my house,” and she
tucked a hot soapstone down under
her feet, pulled her hood around her
apple-red cheeks, and snuggled down
under the robes.
How it snowed! The wind blew
and the horses waded through deep
drifts, and it grew darker and darker,
and all the while little grandmother
“I shall have to kill hint for Thanksgiving,” said Grandmother.
sat up straight and stiff while Seth
grumbled at the horses.
"We can't get through," he sntd at
last, when they reached a road-side
inn, where the lights shone red
through the windows, and where sav
ory odors were wafted through the
door as it opened to revive other half
frozen travelers.
"Now you go right In and get warm,
Seth,” said little grandmother flrmly,
“you ain’t well, and It stands to rea
son that you ought not to get chilled.
But I'm going to drive right on to
Mary's and It won't hurt me a mite,”
and without much more urging, Seth
climbed out and plunged through the
snow towards the Inn. while little
grandmother picked up the reins In
her mlttened hands, clucked to the
horses and disappeared into the dark
ness.
"I wonder why grandmother doesn't
come,” said Billie, two hours later.
"Danmother,” piped baby, and
scrambled up Into the window seat,
and tried to peer through the dark
nes.
"Oh, I guess she thought It wns
beat not to start In u storm,” said
father, soothingly, but presently he
went out and looked down the road
and listened for the sound of sleigh
bells.
All night It snowed, and the next
I morning father and Hulls and baby
looked over white drifts. The road
was blotted out. and only the tips of
the fence rails showed. A thin crust
had formed on top of the snow, how
ever. and the sun was shining.
“Grandmother won’t come,” said
Billee forlornly.
“Danmother lost,” piped Baby, and
tucked her small hand into father's.
“No, she won’t come to-day,” said
Tathecr. She wouldn’t start fin the
storm.”
But baby cocked her head on one
side.
“I hears something,” she announced
gravely.
“Don’t be silly, Baby,” said Billee,
loftily, "what could you hear?”
“I hears a turkey, and he’s says
'gobble, gabble, ” said Baby. "Doesn’t
I, Father?”
They all heard It now. loud, and
beating the air like gurgling waters
in the spring.
“By George,” said Father, “It is a
turkey.”
“Whose turkey?” asked Billee.
"Oh, It’s Danmother dobbler.” cried
Baby, jumping up and down and clap
ping her hands. “Look, look!”
Sure enough, across the thin crust
of snow came the great bird, shining
purple and green and gold in the sun
light, his crest flaming redly, and his
cry sounding forth triumphantly to
all the world.
“Gobble, gobble,” he said, uncon
scious that this was to be his last day
of life.
"But where Is Grandmother?” asked
Billee, puzzled.
Father’s face was white with trou
ble.
“Grandmother must have started,”
he said, "with the turkey. We must
find her at once.”
It was weary work to dig a path, but
with horse and shovel Billee and his
Father broke their way through the
drifts, while all the while the white
world echoed with the cry of the great
| gobbler.
i At last they came upon a heaped up
mound.
"Grandmother, Grandmother, are you
under there?” cried Billee, and then,
oh joy, come back the answer in a
thin, old voice;
"Come around to the other side.”
And there she was—half-burled un
der the snow covered with blankets,
and still nugi g the soapstone, which
had kept her from freexlng during the
bitter night.
"The horses couldn’t go another
step," she said, as they helped her out,
“so I Just let them loose, and they
turned back towards home. This
morning 1 was so stiff I couldn't move,
but I had kept the gobbler under the
blankets with me all night, and when
I lei him out, and heard him on top
the snow calling so loud, 1 knew you'd
find tne. But It seemed pretty long
before you got here.”
Father picked her up In her arms.
"You’d better come hack for the
pies,” she said anxiously. "They ain’t
hurt a bit. und the beans only need
heating to bs ns good as ever.”
When at Inst they came to the house,
the gobbler was sunning himself on
th< doorstep, while Ha by stuffed him
wlih corn.
Grandmother looked at him affection
ately.
“It don't seem as If I could have
1 him killed.” she sold. “Us was a
heap of company last night when I
was all alone in the storm.”
"Oh, of course, we won't kill him,”
said Father, heartily. "He shall live
to a good old age, and never be eaten
up by greedy little children.”
"Nice old dobbler,” said Baby ca
ressingly, and gave him another hand
ful at corn.
But when Grandmother was warm
and cozv in a big chair by the fire,
she looked at the children anxiously.
“You’re sure you don’t want that
turkey for dinner?” she asked.
“Not a bit.” said Billee. staunchly.
"We'll have the beans.”
“And the pies,” said Baby. "They’re
the nicest pies. Danmother. Me and
Billee hs.d a taste.”
“You see, he save-d me,” said Grand
mother apologetically.
But Billee shook his head. "I think
you saved the gobbler. Grandmother,”
he said.
THE PUMPKIN WITH
THE GOLDEN SEEDS
A General, a Captain, a Pair of Twins
and Thanksgiving. -
The little Captain was very poor. But
that did not make him unhappy. No,
indeed. Every morning he went whist
ling to his work, and every evening,
after he had eaten his supper of soup
and bread, he sat in the door of his
cottage and smiled at the people who
went down the long white road.
Even the great General who rode by
on his great war-horse would come out
of his stern medications when the Cap
tain called "A pleasant ride, General,”
and would reply: "Thank you, com
rade,” so that after a time the poor peo
ple of the village began to grow proud
of the little Captain who was greeted
every (?ay by the General, for surely
that was a great honor.
Thus the little man lived peacefully
until one day there came down the road
two little children. They were twins,
very srrtoll and very pretty, and nobody
knew whence they came; but when
they reached the Captain’s doorstep,
they sat down and began to cry.
The little Captain rushed out from
his tiny kitchen where he was heating
his soup, and knelt beside them and
wiped the dirty, heated faces.
“What is the matter, my children?”
he asked.
But the twins cried on, and at last
“UHftT 15 THE TTATTEfi, IT/
,CHILDE>£Nr HE, A3KE.D-
the little Captain ran back Into the
house and poured some of the hot soup
into a bowl and brought It out, and
the tears fled as the twins tasted and
ate hungrily; and when they had fin
ished, they held up their rosy faces for
a kiss; and then the little Caotain
laughed, and the twins laughed, and
after that, every evening, the Captain
and the twins sat together on the step
and nodded to the people, and when
the General passed now, he said:
"Good day, little people,” and once
he gave each of the twins a ride, while
the village people stared and won
dered at his condescension.
Soon it came about, however, that
the captain did not whistle when he
went to work, and he smoked his pipe
no more in the evening, for now he
had three mouths to feed instead of
one, and the twins were growing and
their appetites were growing with
them.
All of his spare time he worked In
his little garden, where he raised a
few vegetables, but the pride of his
life was his pumkin vine.
"Wait until Thanksgiving,” he
would say to the twins. “Such pies
as we shall have!”
And the twins smacked their lips
and grew impatient.
But when the fall came, there was
only one pumpkin on the vine, and
that was not round and yellow like
an ordinary pumpkin, but oval and
'
THE GREAT YELLOW HALVES
FELL OPEN. DI6GLO&IN6 A' PILE
or glcttexing gold pieces.
orange-colored and as big as a wheel
barrow.
The captain was very proud of It.
"I must give it a name,” he said, as
he stood one morning In the frosty
field, and surveyed his prise. ”1 will
call it the Pomeranian Pumpkin.”
“Where Is Pomerania?” asked the
twins, who always talked together.
"I don't know,” said the little cap
tain, "but It doesn't make any differ
ence, and It’s a nice name.”
"Yea," *ald_ the twins, "It is.”
Every day they came out to look at
It, and after a while people came from
far and near to see It, and even the
great general stopped to look over
the fence to praise it.
"Is It not a beauty. General?” aaksd
the little captain.
"Yes," said the general. He looked
thoughtfully at the shabby captain,
and at the rosy, rollicking twins.
"There are many mouths to feed,
little captain,” he aaid.
Hut the little captain am!led.
“They are good children," he cried,
"and do not complain when ws have
dry bread for supper, aud that la
Impromptu Moving Pictures
A Thanksgiving Entertainment
By ADELIA B. BEARD.
Illustrated b y the Author. ’ ~
This will be great fun. fun for the
audience and fun for the actors, and
a good hearty laugh after the Thanks- ]
giving dinner is better than pepper- :
mint to aid digestion.
The entertainment is one that girls !
can get up and carry out themselves,
though boys may take part of course.
First make the poster to be hung In
a conspicuous place in hall or parlor.
Print it in large black letters on a
good-sized sheet of wrapping paper:
There Will Be To-night
An Exhibition of
The World-Renowned
! Moving Pictures.
Taken by Madam Moselle at
Creat Risk of Life and
Property. No Ex
pense or Effort
Being Spared to Obtain the Real
Characters and Settings
of a
Puritan Thanksgiving
And Other Scenes from the Life
of Our Forefathers.
Stretch a large sheet on the back 1
wall of the room where the perform
ance is to be held, as you would for
a magic lantern exhibition. Then get
your costumes ready. These may be
made up very quickly from materials
at hand.
The woman’s dress consists of a skirt
reaching to her ankles, and a waist of
the same color. A tightly-fitting black
cap (made of a black silk handker- .
chief with a turned over edge of white)
wide white collar and cuffs (cut from
old muslin) and low shoes complete
the costume.
The man’s costume consists of short
full trousers, long coat with wide white
collar and cuffs (Figs. 1 and 2), a 1
high-crowned, broad brimmed hat 1
something to be thankful for, to have
bread. Think, if they had no bread
at all!”
The general went away more
thoughtful than ever, and that night
when he sat at dinner, where there
was enough and to spare, he thought
of the three people In the little cot
tage, who ate only dry (bread and
were happy.
So after dinner he mounted his
horse and rode back to the captain's
field. It was very dark, but he went
softly over the stubble, and when he
had found the pumpkin he worked
busily for several minutes, and some
thing sounded softly, “Clink, clink.”
And presently he went back to his
horse, smiling to himself in the dark
as very few people had ever seen him
smile in the day time.
The next morning, which was the
day before Thanksgiving, the captain
said to the twins, “To-day we will
bring In the pumpkin, and to-morrow
you shall have a pie to celebrate
Thanksgiving. I should like to make
more, but I have only one egg and
no milk, and it is better to have only
one pie than none at all, so we will
be thankful for that."
“Oh, yes," said the twins, “that will
be fine, and we will cut it in three
pieces, one for you and one for each
of us,” and taking the captain's hands,
they hurried out to the field, where
the great pumpkin lay basking in the
sunlight.
“It seems almost a pity to cut It,”
said the captain, regretfully, but the
twins cried:
"Think of our pie, dear captain!”
The captain rolled the pumpkin over
and whisked out his knife to cut the
stem, when, all at once, the great yel
low halves fell open, disclosing a pile
of glittering gold pieces.
For a moment the captain stared,
speechless, then he touched the money
to see If it was real, and then he gave
a great shout of joy.
“I told you it was a wonderful
pumpkin.” he said, “and now you see
that it has golden seeds!”
“Oh. oh.” cried the happy twins,
“and now we can have all the pies we
want
“Yes,” said the simple-hearted cap
tain, "and we can make others happy,
which Is the best of all. I am very
thankful. Let us go, at once, and tell
our friend the general, of our won
derful fortune.
“It Is Indeed wonderful," said the
general, as the three happy ones stood
before him. But never a word did
he say of his ride In the dark, and of
his visit to the field of the little cap
tain. _
HOW TO LIVE RIGHT.
The Advice of a reat Physician.
Recently Sir Herman Weber, the
famous English physician, prepared
an article on long life. It was written
for scientists, but there were many
passages In It that are ■clear and use
ful to the youngest person*.
“Fresh air,” said he, "at all times
and In all places In the chief necessity
for maintaining good health and life.
A person is only as old as his arteries.
Fresh air and sensible exercises make
fresh blood, and fresh blood keeps the
arteries and veins clean and healthy.
But great muscular power does not
mean long life. Athletes do not grow
old, as a rule. The most natural form
of exercise Is walking. Every per
son should have a 'hobby,' even early
In life. It will pull the brain and boty
through the strain of monotonous
work. Envy, malice and avarice are
three faults that are not conducive to
a healthful old age. A firm will Is
as necessaty to llvs long sa a strong
body."
(made over an ordinary one. Figs. 3,
4 and 5) and low shoes.
Tne properties for the Thanksgiving
dinner scene are a long rarrow table
spread for dinner, aid chairs enough
for the actors, six or eight taking part.
Before showing her picture Madam
Moselle should stand before the scene
and say a words extolling the
scene she is about to present.
The girl who represents Madam Mo
selle can make a hit by presenting a
foreigner's idea of our first Thanksgiv
ing night. It can be made very funny
with ludicrous misfakes.
At the close of her address the lights
must be put out and the scene quick
ly arranged close to the screen, all the
actors except two being seated ait the
table. Thus remain two empty chairs.
As quickly as possible the light should
be turned on and at the same tinm the
actors must begin a pantomime of eat
ing. drinking and talking.
They should express anxiety for the
safety of the tardy guests, some of
them leaving the table to appear to
look out of a door or window.
All the while (this is the great point)
the actors must shake and quiver in
imitation of the queer trembling and
quivering always seen in the moving
1 pictures, and their movements must
be very rapid.
Soon the missing couple should ap
pear, coming in hurriedly and by ges
tures telling of an encounter with the
Indians.
Their clothes should be pierced with
arrows, and the Puritan’s hat must be
bristling with them.
All this may be made very funny if
the acting is good, and absurd little
by-plays introduced; but remember the
whole thing will be spoiled unless the
constant quivering and shaking is kept
up by all of the actors.
The picture can be “flashed off” the
screen by simply turning out the light,
and others may be shown giving vari
ous Incidents In Puritan life or the
early history of our country.
The Working Children
of the World
v.
Russian Pastooks and Pashtooshkas.
In every large estate In Russia the
raising of poultry Is a leading Indus
try. Children do much of the work,
especially in the summer months.
The poultry house is a large wooden
building, divided Into separate com
partments for the different breeds of
birds. Chickens, geese, ducks and tur
keys are bred In large numbers, and
great care is necessary to keep them
In good hdalth as they are kept In
doors In the cold months when only
the ducks and geese are hardly enough
to be permitted to spend a few min
utes in the open air on sunny days.
The poultry house is heated by
large brick stoves. Next to the house
is the kitchen of the woman who has
charge of them. Her children, or
some of the children on the estate, as
sist her in feeding and oaring for her
feathere flocks.
In the summer the jfastooks and
pastooshkas, as the boys and girls are
called who look after the poultry,
pigs and cattle In the fields, relieve
their elders of the care of the poultry.
These children drive the flocks out
to the fields In the early morning, each
with a loaf of black rye bread.
The fields abound In brooks and
rivulets as a rule In which the geese
and ducks disport themselves.
The pastooks and pastooshkas hang
their scanty clothing on the ever
present willow trees, and mud-lark to
their hearts’ content, leaving the wa
ter only when their flocks show an In
clination to winder too far.
Toward nlghtfull the bird* are
driven home and fed while the boys
and girls repair to their straw-thatch
ed and lime-washed izbas, where they
climb into narrow bunks to sleep af
ter a meal of cabbage soup and rye
bread, washed down with kvas, a fer
mented drink made from meal and
•honey.
This time Is the happiest time of
their lives. The harder labors of the
farm soon succeed It.
Farming in Russia means constant
•toil from the thawing of the ground
until It la frosen again. The pastooks
and the pastooshkas suffer the least
of all engaged in agriculture.
Poultry raising is lucrative. The
export of eggs and fowls of 'all kinds
la very large. Thus the little poultry
tenders perform an important eco
nomic part In farm life In Russia.
BOLIVIA’S TEEMING FORESTS.
"Bolivia's forests," says a traveler
who has Just returned from a trig
Into the rubber country there, "differ
ent from many other South African
forests, are full of life. Birds abound
In wonderful numbers. Thick swarms
of the HttW green parrots flew around
me almost continually. A beautiful
bird, the arara, hovered over us every
where. some bright blue and others
perfectly red like fire. Nearly every
tree had a woodpecker In bright plum
age working away at It. Every camp
that was made was visited at once by
dosens of humming birds. All this
wonderful color Is added te by Im
mense clouds of greet butterflies of ail
kinds, oae mere gorgeous than Iks