PPO A . _. SE Deworaiic atcha Bellefonte, Pa. May 4, 1906, What They Call It Grandma says we're right in style A-sittin’ 1n our automo-bi'e, Grandpa says we're fit to kill, A-ridin’ in our automo-bill, Ma, she says we ought to feel Grateful fer our automo-beel, Pa says there ain't no other man Kin run an auto like he can. Auntie preaches near and far 'Bout our lovely touring ear. Uncle Bill says he ain't seen Nowhere such a good machine. Brother Jim, he keeps a braggin’ ‘Bout the speed of our new wagon. But, oh, it sounds so grand and noble When sister Sue says automoble, —=—The world at best ix but a hash of pleasure and of pain, Some days are bright and sunny and some all slashed with rain, And that's just how it ought to be, for when the clouds roll by We'l Iknow just how to 'preciate the bright | i and smilin’ sky. So learn to take it as it comes and don't sweat at the pores, Because the Lord's opinion doesn't coin- cide with yours, But always keep rememberin’ wher cares your path enshroud, That God has lots of sunshine to spill be- hind the cloud, ————— HOW ELLEN CAME TO STEAL THE INDIAN BABY, Never was a day brighter, or a sky bluer, or life jollier, than on the morning when little Ellen’s papa and mama took her to visit the Indians,—real, live Indians thas did nothing but weave baskets and sell baskets and sing strange songs all the day through. Never was a little girl happier, broad, low step of the carriage ment, and then lifting it with all ber might and main, she first kneeled and then stood this to love, coddle, sing to, and play with | Crack in Crust of Earth Caused Quake, up at the big, lonely house that was her | home. Just then a bright thought flashed through ber mind : the doll wasn’t with the other things—it was out under a tree ; and this Sudiud wae was Surely too dg lay with dolls. Perbaps, ob, perhaps, the didn’s carefor it! She ran back to question Ulla-Ulla. **Does you love your dolly ?''she ventur- ed, very timidly, indeed. Ulla-Ulla was uncertain what to say, and then, remembering she bad said ‘Yes’ to everything so far, she concluded it was time to vary the conversation a little, and answered, ‘Nah !”’ Ellen's heart gave a great bound, and she stood with ciasped hands before the Indian woman, a great hope showing in her eyes. “Oh !”’ she exclaimed, with a deep breath, “‘if you don’t care for it one teen- ty-taunty bit, would yov—won’s you please give it to me ?"’ Ulla-Ulla thought a moment. The little girl’s eager manner, her raised voice and flashed cheeks, all told the Indian woman she was asking for some unusual privilege. Now, every one that saw her Sparkling- Eyes always wanted to do one thing—to kiss ber,—she was so pretty and dark and clean for an Indian baby. Ulla-Ulla re- membered this, and decided it must be what the little papoose desired. ‘‘Yah,” she laughed, and nodded ; and she turned back to her weaving and sing- ng. Ellen danced out of the tent to the tree, and laboriously picking up her present, staggered away with it. Fortunately, the carriage wae not far distant, and the baby was very small and light, so that by a great effort she managed to carry it across the open space to the carriage. The In. dians were all in their tents, busy with their customers ; #0 it came about that no one saw Ellen as she carried her heavy load to the carriage steps. Big Jim was down by the brook, whittling a stick and whist- ling ; so not even he observed Ellen’s un- usual actions. And she, laughing to ber- sell, thought, ‘It's a wery big dolly, an’ is just awful heavy ; but won’t papa and mama be s’prised when they see it !’’ And Ellen was right ; they were. The little girl rested her load on the for a mo- for that matter, than was Ellen's own on the step and placed it on the bottom of sweet little self, all spick-and-span and dainty in ber little frock, from the crown of her carly head to the tips of her little lack shoes. Aud never was a ride over 1 the carriage. straightened herself, panting from the el- fort she had made, and then pushed the This accomplished, she ittle sleeper far back under the seas, the sunlit hills and between the meadows among the extra blankets. of gold butter-cups and white daisies more beautiful. At last the white tents of the Indians came in sight, and Big Jim got down to hold the horses’ heads ; papa got down to lifts his girlie out, and mama stood by to kiss her when she was lifted down ; and Ellen's little feet kicked with impatience to be set upon the ground, while Big Jim smiled and smiled, and showed all his shining rows of ivory teeth. Then some folks came up to talk with her papa and mama ; Big Jim unhitched the horses and led them to a neighboring brook to drink 3 and Ellen was left alone, with the caution not to wander far, for papa and mama would be back in a minute and show their baby everything. Bat Ellen waited and waited—oh, ever and ever so long ! as ske thought—until she couldn’s wait any longer, and scampered away to the first big tent just to peep in. Oh, it was a regalar fairyland for Ellen in the big tent ! ole there were long, clean boards covered with dingy shawls and set on barrels. On the boards were baskets—heaps of baskets, of every size and shape and color that El len had ever dreamed of in all her life. Now, Ellen was partial to baskets—why, even then, as she peeped in the door, El- len held a basket clutched tightly in her little dimpled bands, and in shat basket there were big, sqnare soda-crackers, of course. So, being interested in baskets, Ellen timidly entered to look about. There were more baskets on the ground under the counter, and more still in the back of the tent ! There were carved In- dian boy dollies and girl dollies, and oa- noes, and bows and arrows, and—oh, every- thing ! Bot back of the counter her nyes caught sight of something still more inter- esting. There were great heaps of sweer- grass of every color of the rainbow, and 1 the midst of it Ulla-Ulla, the Squaw, sat and sang Indian ballads, ‘and wove the baskets for her husband to sell. Ellen looked up into the dusky face of the In- dian who was selling a bow and arrow to a tall gentleman for bis little hoy, but the Indian did not see her, and, within, Ulla Ulla sat and wove on and on. Ellen could not resist the temptation any longer ; she darted under the counter, and in an instant was beside Ulla-Ulla, the sweet-grass, and the unfinished baskets. Ulla-Ulla smiled and then laughed, and Ellen smiled and laughed, too. Ulla. Ulla was a happy Indian, and contented with her lot ; but she knew no English except yes” and “‘no”’—the only two Eoglish words the could even try to say. Her lord and master did the relling, and ‘‘yes”’ and “vo” go a great way when wisely used. Soshe stayed at the back of the tent, squatting there for honre, and wove sweet-scented grasses into gorgeous has- kets, and watched little Sparkling-Eyes, her only child and the pride of her heart, dozing away the hours, snugly wiapped up and fastened to a board that either leaned Ngaingt A tree or swung airily fiom its ches “Do you make all those baskets?’ El. len began, the awe her little heart felt at speaking to a real, *‘truly’’ Indian creep- ing into her voice, “Yes,” granted Ulla-Ulla—only she pro- nounced it *‘yah.”’ “Do you always live in a hig tens?” Ellen ventured again. Arranged in a great cir- Just then Ellen’s folks came back, and she told them how she had seen the In- dians, and bad had ‘‘just a splendid time" (but never a word of the Indian dolly—of course not !) So they all bundled back into the carriage, and Jim brought back the horses and had them harnessed up in a trice. Then be climbed to his box, crack- ed his whip, and they wheeled gaily away homeward. Yet all this time Ulla-Ulla worked on, laughing to herself, between ber songs, at the little white papoose, and chanting a few notes from pure joy and pride at owning such a baby as Sparkling- Eyes. “Cp by the four cross-roads, where the wild woodbine twines about the old fence- rails, the prancing span drew up and stop- ped ; and Ellen and her mama got out to pick the violets that hid their blue heads among the grasses. But while Ellen aud her mother were gathering flowers as the cross-roads, there was wailing fu the camp. Ulla-Ulla went out to get her baby, and found her gone! Dismay was in her heart and sorrow in the village, and the braves rushed here and there in search for the lost one, while the mother wept, beat her breast, and tore her hair. At the cross roads the flowers were thick, and Eilen and her mother gathered them to their hearts’ content. A vew joy filled Ellen's heart. fur she owned a very hig dolly now. Little did she dream, how- ever, of the sorrow «he had cansed to the Indian mother in tie tent she bad visited ! Ellen's mother approached the back of the cariioge to place her Jowers there, where they woun'!d keep fresher than in her hands. “No, mama, not there! Let me carry ‘em, —uh, please, do!" exclaimed Ellen. She didn't care to bave her mother know her secret yet. The surprise would he ureater, she thought, if she waited until they reached howe. But jast then, from the extra robes under the seat, there came a merry chuckle, and from ont the depths two little brown fists were thrust opward and grabbed for the bunch of flowers, “Oh, my soul !"’ gasped Ellen's mother, fairly struck dumb with amazement, “Where—What—!"" She conld say uo more in her rurprise, and the expression on her face was ludicrous to sex, She lean- ed over and lifted the listle Indian baby out. “Why—why—!'" she gasped again ;and Ellen’s papa and Big Jim sat in their seats and laughed. so comical was the sight. “It’s my dolly I" Ellen exclaimed indig- nantly, almost ready to ory. They were all laughing—langhing at the dolly—when they all ought to he as surprised as they could be ! “On my word,” gasped her father at last, in such amazement as to satisfy even Ellen—*‘on my word —your dolly 1" But when Ellen had finally told them the whole story, little hy little, Jim, papa, and even mama laughed and laughed and then suddenly began to look very serious, until Ellen was beginning to cry. Before long there drove into the midst of the sorrowing village a carriage containing a big, hiack coachman, a smiling father and mother, a very penitent Ellen, and a little brown Indian papoose. Ellen's mama had told her how sad and sorry Sparkling. Eyes’s mama must feel to lose her haby, and had explained how she came to con- sent to its being taken away, and, last of Ulla-Ulla watched her face sharply toa) had promised to buy Ellen the very see whether a “yes or a ‘no’ was requir- nicest doll her papa could find in all the ed in answer, and fioally said *-Yab,"— | jre0y city of Boston when he returned to which was not true at all, as Ulla-Ulla would have known could she have under- stood better what Ellen had said to her. Just then Ellen canght sight of little Sparkling-Eves ont under the tree in the sunlight. his husiness there the following Monday. So Ellen was partly satisfied at last, The Indians clustered about the carriage, Suite J surprised at the grand return so hy Sparkling. Eves as Ellen's parents The flaps at the hack of the tent oo when they discovered her in the ear- that served for doors were fastened back riage with wooden thongs, so that the afternoon Ulla-Ulla received her lost one to her sunlight might stream into the Indian | 4rpng again, and langhed quietly in her home ; and thiongh this opening Ellen saw the hahy, so still and quiet there. In truth, listle Sparkling-Eyes wae, at that moment, far away in dreamiand. “Oh, oh, oh!’ exclaimed Ellen, ina transport of joy and surprise at her discoy- ery, “ia thay heantifal dolly sonrs—thar g'ear. hig, heaunfa! dolly 2 “Yah,” sais! Ulla-Ulla, smiling happily at the praise she supposed the Ingle white prose was giving her haby, ol Pe Elie stoned still in wonder and admira- tion at such a lovely ‘‘doll.”” She had never heen near a bahy in all her short lit- tle life—indeed, she had never even seen ong ! — 80 how was she to know this was strange Indian fashion when she was told the tale of how «he gave her baby away. Bat Ulla Ulla’ hushand ha