The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 15 June 1916, Page 53

The Family Circle

NO PLACE TO GO. The happiest nights ' I ever know t . Are those when I’ve No place to go. When the missus says When the day is through, ‘ To-night we haven’t A thing to do.’ O the joy of it, And the peace untold, Of sitting round In my slippers old, With my pipe and book In my easy chair, And the thought I Needn’t go anywhere, _ Needn’t hurry My evening meal Nor force the smiles That I do not feel. But can grab a book From a nearby shelf, And drop all sham And be myself. O, the charm of it And the comfort rare Nothing' on earth .With it can compare; And I’m sorry for him Who doesn’t know The joy of having No place to go.

PATCHES. The sun shone brightly and the fleecy white clouds sailed tranquilly through the blue heavens. The light breeze waved the tall corn gently to and fro and stopped to kiss the sweet faces of the blushing roses. It paused on its frivolous career to lift the curls of a little girl as she lay prone upon the grass under a tall old maple tree. But the child cared naught for the cool caress she only hid her face deeper in her slight arms while her little frame shook with sobs. A very pathetic and heart-touching picture she made as she lay there alone in her childish grief. A small, ragged dog nosed his way anxiously through the tall grass. Tired and discouraged, he sat down, his little red tongue lolling as he wagged his tail thoughtfully. After a moment of rest he continued his search, sniffing the air wistfully. Suddenly he gave a yelp of joy, and a moment later his eager tongue licked the hand of the little girl. ~ She sat up and hugged the dog tightly against her heaving breast. The dog’s eyes looked sorrowfully into the eyes of the little maid, for he knew she was unhappy, and then he barked as if to say, ‘ What makes you so sad, little mistress?’ The little girl did not answer; she only hugged him tighter. Then the voice of her father called gaily, ‘ Alice, O Alice !’ Wearily the child put the dog from her lap, then she took her crutches in her thin, baby hands. Little Alice was lame. ; Slowly she walked to the . house; her crutches tapped lightly on the gravel walk, up the steps of the porch. Her father lifted her tenderly in his strong arms and placed , her in a large, comfortable chair. Tell me again, daddy, dear,’ she whispered in her clear treble.

Mr. Martyn lifted her to his knee and said: You see, Alice, the big railroad company wants to make a new track. They have to cut through: our field, so they offered to buy the whole place. ■ So daddy went to the city and found a nice little house where we can board right by a pretty school, where his little girl is going to learn to read and write. You are six now, Alice,

—irfniiiiani ~'' and daddy wants his little girl to of things. But, interrupted Alice, why can’t Patches go, too,, daddy?’ Weil, girlie, the landlady doesn’t Ike dogs, just hates the sight of them. Patches will goto Mr. bmiths farm, and he’ll like it there.’ ■ es ’’ said Alice, ‘ but Oh, daddy, I don’t mind going to the city, -but Oh, .1 shall miss Patches T •-n , . re * there, Alice, you must not cry so hard: I will bring you out to see Patches every week. Now drink this milk and I will tell you a nice, long story.’ A/r A few days i later an auto came to the door to take Mr Martyn and Alice to their new home. Alice had made a tearful journey in her father’s strong arms to see for the last-time every familiar thing on the dear, httle a g“i 6 did not complain, for she, was a brave , ~ * Shad 1 ick y° u a bouquet of these V asked her father, when they paused beside the roses. ‘Oh no’ said Alice, gravely do not take them off, they will get homesick for their sisters and then they will die.’ bo at last Alice and her father came empty-handed to the auto. Mr. Smith spoke gaily to the little girl and Said ’ . D ° nt you fret, Miss Alice; I will pet Patches so that he will be the stuck-upest critter in all the land Alice smiled sorrowfully and hugged Patches into her arms for the last time. Then they were whirled away Patches looked in a bewildered way after the cloud of dust and then howled long and dismally, while a big, doggy tear splashed down his nose.

Alice and her father had been in their new home for almost a week. It was a dear little home, and there was a tiny little garden with only one tree. They ate their meals with Miss Martyn, a distant relative of Alice’s father. She was an elderly lady and the housekeeper. She was very kind to little Alice, for no one could look into the child’s, lovely eyes and not love her. Her very affliction made hearts yearn over her, for the little limbs were useless, caused by a fall when she was a tiny baby. . . ice bad gone to the pretty school for the first time with her father. She was timid, and the curious gazes of her little classmates tortured her. But that same night, when ‘ dear teacher ’ dismissed the others with a cheery good-night, she put her arm around Alice and kissed her. Then the tears that the lonely child had been fighting back came in a tempest. She sobbed out the story of Patches, and dear teacher, choking back a sob, held the little girl tight. She talked with her for a long time, stroking back the curls from her hot forehead, and stooping often to kiss the sweet, little face. She walked home with Alice and bade her a loving good-night. How the child loved her! And the aching void did not hurt nearly so much that night. It was Saturday hot, sultry morning. There was no school, and daddy would not be home until dark. He liad promised Alice to see Patches, but he had some very urgent business on hand. So Alice sat alone, crying with disappointment. Suddenly she lifted her head. Why, she would go to the country herself! It was not so far, and daddy had told her to take a little walk. Miss. Martyn, busy making pifes in the kitchen, did not hear, the little crutches go softly out of the front door and down the walk out of the gate. Alice walked on very briskly and was happy with eagerness. Oh, but the way was long and the little arms ached, but still she did not pave up. It was almost dark and Alice was filled with terror. She was in the heart of the city, one of the worst neighborhoods. Several bad boys had jeered at her and an evil looking man had leered at the white little face. * Please God,’ she whispered, * let daddy find me soon/ and then she crouched in the doorway of the little stone chapel at the end of the dark street. . The words had been spoken aloud and a little mud-covered dog, limping on three legs, gave a bark of joy, and—andwell, a moment later Alice lay there asleep with Patches in her arms. , ”- : . Mr. Martyn sprang up the stairs, whistling gaily, and held carefully 2 a lovely dolly he had brought for his little girl. v But he was met at the door-by- a wild'*

eyed housekeeper, who told him in a terror-stricken whisper that Alice was lost. Mr. Martyn staggered for a moment, and then hurried to the nearest station house with the housekeeper. All that night they searched, and at last, when they were sick with despair, they found her. There, under the arch of the church door, she still lay asleep, with Patches on guard at her feet. The faint light of the morning was just tinging the eastern sky when a strange procession filed up the walk to the door of Miss Martyn’s, home. First came Mr. Martyn, carrying the crutches and a bonnet; then the burly policeman, with the happily smiling Alice in his .arms and last of all came Miss Martyn, holding something in her arms with great care, and even reverence. It —Patches ! THE DIET OF OTHER NATIONS. The daily diet of millions of people in foreign countries, day in' and day out, contains in some cases not any meat at all, and in other cases a bare semblance of it. By the way of comparison, it is interesting to note what the principal foodstuffs of the persons of some foreign countries consist of. The Japanese people, robust, active, well-made, long-lived, and possessed of high intellect and abilities, eat vegetable foods almost entirely. Rice, pulse, sweet potatoes, turnips, carrots, squashes, egg plants, peas, beans, radishes, oranges, peaches, pears, apricots, plums, persimmons, raspberries, mulberries, currants, and herbs form their chief articles of diet. The Greek eats mainly a diet of black bread made of rye or wheat meal with a bunch of grapes or a handful of raisins or figs. The people of Turkey and Malta eat black bread and coarse macaroni, supplemented with garden stuff, Sicilian wine, goat’s milk, cheese, fish, raisins, ripe olives, and other fruits, thistle broth, dandelions, and vegetables. The diet of the Chinese is practically, of rice, with hardly any meat at all included in the daily menu. Millions of Russian laborers eat black bread with a bunch of garlic, and, in addition, mushrooms, cabbages, vegetables, and milk. For the better class or those who can afford it, there is boiled millet pudding, goat’s cheese, onions, vegetable soup, black broth,’ and weak tea. -

The Norwegians eat rice, bread, milk, cheese, hasty pudding, porridge of oatmeal or rice meal, seasoned with herrings or mackerel, while rice, brown bread, grapes, raw onions, and sips of light wine furnish the average Spanish peasant with foodstuffs. The French peasant, too, prefers a menu consisting mostly of vegetables. The meal consists of dried beans, and peas, potatoes, boiled rice, milk, greens, pancakes made of - wheat meal and eggs, salads, curded milk, or a little wine and meat consumed during the harvest time.

Meat, as a rule, is refused by the Swiss workman. His food principally is brown bread, cheese, potatoes, vegetables, and fruit, with, large quantities of milk. DOTTIE AND THE PRINCESS. ‘ Dottie, will you go to the store for me ?’ * Yes, mamma, just as soon as I finish this story. It is -all about a princess who had a great deal of money and a kind heart and went around doing good and helping every one she saw in trouble.’ ‘Dottie,’ said mamma again presently, you didn’t bring me those chips, and it is almost time to start dinner.’ * I will, mamma, by and by ; but how I should love to be a princess like this one and be able to help make every one round me happy !’ Mamma finished peeling her pan of potatoes and brought the basket of chips herself, while Dottie scarcely looked up from her book. ‘ Oh, Dottie, please tie ’is ’tring on my. waggon; the old one ’bwokened.’ This from Baby Bertie. Dottie threw, down her book impatiently. ‘ You are a little nuisance!’ . she exclaimed, as she grabbed

the string from her brother’s hand so hastily that she broke it. ‘ I wish you’d go ’way and let me alone. I never can have a good time all by myself.’ \ Mamma was coming out of the pantry with a jar of preserved pears just in time to hear her little daughter’s last words. But there was only a little Wj wonder in her voice as she inquired : ‘ Did the princess '■ in your book try to have a good time all by herself?’ No no, mamma, I guess not,’ said Dottie very slowly. ‘ Well,’ continued mamma, ‘ if you really want to be like her, you can’t begin a minute too soon.’ SCHILLER KNEW THEM. The following story, which is going the rounds of the Continental papers, including even those of Austria, must make the Germans, gnash their teeth. A German and a Dane met recently in Schiller’s house in Weimar. As they stood gazing reverently on the scene the German, swelling with pride, remarked to his fellowvisitor : ‘ So this is where our national poet, Schiller, lived.’ Pardon me,’ said the other; ‘not national, but international.’ ‘ How so ? ’ asked the German, with surprise. ‘ Why, consider his works,’ the Dane replied. ‘He wrote Mary Stuart for the English, The Maid of Orleans for the French, Egmont for the Dutch, William Tell for the Swiss ’ - ‘ And what did he write for the Germans, pray?’ broke in the other. Pat came the Dane’s answer; ‘ For the Germans he wrote The Robbers.’ THE BARRISTER’S RETORT. A judge and barrister in London were upon indifferent terms; a client of counsel made his appearance at the bar with his jaw terribly swelled, and the judge remarked : Mr. , this client of.yours would make an excellent barrister; he’s all jaw,’ which set the court in a roar of laughter against the barrister. On silence being restored, the counsel then remarked :

‘ My lord, I think he would make a better judge, for his jaw’s all on one side.’ The retort turned the laugh against he judge, and from that day they were on the best terms of friendship. THE REASON WHY. * Herbert,’ said a school teacher, turning to a bright youngster, ‘can you tell me what lightning is?’ ‘Yes, ma’am,’ was the ready reply of the boy. ‘ Lightning is streaks of electricity.’ ‘Well, that may pass!’ said the teacher, encouragingly. * Now, tell me why it is that lightning never strikes twice in the same place.’ w ‘ Because,’ answered Herbert, ‘ after it hits once the same place ain’t there any more.’ TOLD OF THE WAR OFFICE. A certain officer of the Royal Horse Artillery, having his battery divided into half-batteries, which were garrisoned over forty miles apart by road, applied that he might have an allowance granted for an extra charger, it being his duty to frequently visit both portions. The War Office ruled that this allowance was inadmissible, saying: Measured by the ordnance map, as the crow flies, the distance is found to be only thirtythree miles and a-half.’ For a time the officer was nonplussed, but an idea struck him, and he seized his pen and wrote: . * There, would appear to be some misunderstanding regarding my application. lam asking for allowance for an additional charger, not an additional crow. I do not ride a crow I ride a horse "He got it; ; ■ ■/, . .