Reading Memorial High School - Pioneer Yearbook (Reading, MA)

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14 THE PIONEER. lcre l along, looking in the shop windows and enjoying himself generally. Suddenly his eye fell upon a strange looking wagon which was passing along the street. Its body, which looked like a great barrel, rested on four stout wheels, while from the rear there was a wide protuberance which was bored with numerous round holes. Artemus felt very curious to examine this queer arrangement, so when it had passed by, he stepped up behind and stood looking at it with his hands in his pockets. lie had just bent over and was trying to poke his fingers in the holes, when all of a sudden there spurted out from all the openings at once, a heavy shower of cold water which completely drenched poor Artemus to the skin. He set up aloud outcry which brought from the crowd a gentleman carrying a carpet-bag and blue umbrella, who cried excitedly, “At last I have found my son,” and catching him by the hand, he drew the boy on to the sidewalk. Artemus presented a pitiable appearance indeed. Over his woeful face, little red rivulets were making their way from the red cotton streamers of his hatband. The once stiffly starched gingham waist was now limp and life¬ less, and the colors of his green plaid necktie, the pride of his heart, were blended in a wonderful manner. Master Butterfield was still wailing loudly and looking regretfully at his ruined splendor. They stopped at a clothier’s and Mr. Butter¬ field ordered a new suit for Artemus, afterward inquiring the price. “Ten-dollars,” answered the clerk carelessly, and proceeded to do up the parcel. Mr. Butterfield rose on his tiptoes, saying under his breath, “Fifteen-cents left to get home with.” But pride ruled his purse, so he paid the price and commanded Artemus to stop making a noise. He gained permission to change Artemus’ clothes in a little back room of the store, and soon that young man was arrayed in such a fine new suit that he would have been glad that lie had met with the disaster, if it had not been for the reprimand which he expected from his father, when he should leave the store. But his fears were dispelled when his father commenced on an entirely different subject. “How are we to get home with fifteen cents?” “Ef I hed anythin’ valu’ble, 1 might sell it,” lie said, “I don’t ’spose anybody’d want ter buy th’ luncheon Almirer Jane put up fer us, though there be a nice slice o’ joint an’ a ras’b’ry turn¬ over.” All at once, Mr. Butterfield thought of his blue umbrella, and though he was loth to part with the ancient article, he asked several people if they would like to buy it. He could not find anyone who wanted it, but one old lady suggested, “Why don’t you take it to the pawnbroker’s? There’s one right down the street here.” Thanking her for the suggestion, he acted upon it at once. He found the shop without any trouble, but the shrewd old pawnbroker shook his head and said, “Zat ees of no use to me, not von beet.” “Waal now,” exclaimed Mr. Butterfield some¬ what taken aback, “Yer don’ know what a chance yer losin’. There aint a person in Beantown that wouldn’t jump at th’ chance o’ buyin’ thet umbreller,” and he was plunging into its history when the man interrupted, “I haf no use for zat, but ze bag, I vill see ze bag.” For a moment, Mr. Butterfield was speechless with rage at the thought of the proposed desecration, but the stern realities of his position came back to him, together with the soothing remembrance that he could return immediately and redeem it, so he answered, “Mebhe I’ll sell it. But it ought ter bring a good lump o’ money.” “I gif you no more’n sefenty-fife cent,” ans¬ wered the man, with a hideous grin. “Seventy-five cents!” cried Mr. Butterfield indignantly, “Why thet bag’s worth more’n ten dollars, Gran’ther Butterfield paid fifteen dollars fer thet there carpet-bag.” “Veil, veil, as you pices,” and the pawn¬ broker turned away as if the transaction were ended.

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TlIE PIONEER. ia edthe young hopeful. “Do you s’pose, pa, thet you could buy me one out er thet ten-dollars- an’-fifteen-cents ?” “I dunno but I could, I reckon tliey wouldn’t come higher ’n live dollars.” So the spirits of young Artemus rose high, and he had plenty to think of from that time on. Suddenly the conductor opened the door and called out, “Paterson, Paterson—change cars for New York. Do not leave any articles in the car.” Obeying this last command of the conductor, Mr. Butterfield grasped his carpet-bag and blue umbrella, a family heirloom, used by Mr. Butterfield ordy on special occasions. As soon as the cars stopped, he rose stiffly and passed with a dignified air out of the car, with Arte- mus close at his heels. He stepped up to a fashionably dressed young man who was leaning against a pillar, smoking a cigarette, and said. “Kinyeou tell me which car’ll take me ter Ne’ York?” The young man answered shortly, “New York trains on main track,” and turned away. “Well, I mayn’t know so much about it, but I do know as I wont git ter N’ York on a Maine track,” soliloquized Mr. Butterfield as he started off again. 11 is next victim was a woman with three- children in her wake, and one on each side, while she clasped several bundles in her arms. Mr. 1 hitterfield put to her the same inquiry. “O dear me, sir,” replied the woman, so startled that she dropped several bundles. “Tom¬ my, pick up those bundles — no, I’m sure I don’t know — stop pulling the gentleman’s coat, Peter I’m looking for it myself — Annabel, take your hands from the gentleman’s umbrella, this instant— ), I’m so confused, and such trouble¬ some children — I — ” and she darted off leaving Mr. Butterfield to separate one of the children from Artemus, with whom he was having an encounter in hair pulling. When he had disentangled the youthful pu¬ gilists, he lai l hold of a newspaper lad who was making free use of his lungs near by, and asked him the usual question, receiving the audacious reply, “Hey, old hayseed, three tracks t’ yer right, four t’ yer left, down th’ centre an’ th’ rest o’ th’ way on yer face, ef yer umbreller won’t take yer,” and off went the lad, crying “New York Journals an’ Heralds, all about th’ robbery.” It now occurred to Mr. Butterfield that it would be somewhat wiser to ask an official, and finally, with the aid of one, he found himself on the New York train. To be perfectly sure, after he was seated, he inquired of the people in front and in back of him if that was the train for New York. Artemus had seen so many strange things that when the train drew up in the great depot of New York, his mind was in a perfect whirl and his father had fairly to pull him by the hand. Mr. Butterfield, with his carpet-bag clutched tightly in one hand, and his large blue family umbrella under his arm, said pompously, “I reckon yer can’t lose me in Ne’ York. I wuss down here once afore, thirty years ago. We’ll go right across the street to Peter Jones’ green grocery. IIow glad Peter will be ter see me!” It was with great difficulty that Butterfield and son found their way through the station, which was so crowded that Mr. Butterfield decided there must be a cattle fair, round some¬ where. At last, finding themselves in a great thorough¬ fare, crowded with people and vehicles, Mr. Butterfield was startled to find in place of the old green grocery, a great stone building of a dozen stories. He was so thunderstruck that he relaxed his hold on Master Artemus, and that young gentleman, making the most of the opportunity, slipped away to hear the music of an old hand organ, whose crank was being turned by an Italian woman. Artemus had always been accustomed to wan¬ dering about by himself, so it did not disconcert him at all to be alone. After he had tired of the sing-song music of the organ, lie wan-

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TIIE PIONEER. 15 With great reluctance, as it was a case of necessity, Mr. Butterfield subdued his ancestral pride and fixed a dollar and a quarter as his price. After a good deal of arguing, a dollar was agreed upon. When the man had counted out this sum in pennies and five cent pieces, and recounted it several times, he dropped it slowly with the check into Mr. Butterfield’s hand, while he placed one hand on the bag. Mr. B utterfield now removed the contents of the bag into his own and Artemus’ pockets, to the bewilderment of the pawnbroker. After he had finished, he laid it reverently on the counter, only to see the pawnbroker take it and toss it into a corner between some rusty garden tools and a broken chair. Mr. Butterfield quivered with indignation, but controlling his anger, he grasped Artemus by the hand and left the store. “1 feel condemned, Artemus Butterfield, to think I’ve gone and spent ten dollars for clothes an’ let your gran’ther’s bag go fer one dollar. Almirer Jane’ll never fergive me. But, really, 1 couldn’t ha’ dried your clothes an’ you might er caught cold, and I spose we’ve got ter git home.” “But won’t you ketch it when mother finds it out?” answered Artemus. At length they reached the station and suc¬ ceeded in finding the train. Artemus did not raise any objection when they got on, but took a seat and sat very still. Mr. Butterfield did not speak until after the train had started, and then he said, “I dew wish Almira Jane could ’a seen tliet new kind ’er tricycle what runs up hill.” “Well, I aint got the candy,” grumbled Artemus, whose temper had been spoiled with his clothes. “Shet up, yeow ungrateful leetle scamp,” said Mr. B utterfield sternly. Hattie E. Gleason. Class of 1901. THE BOER WAR. The present trouble between the English and the Dutch is nothing more than a continuance of a long series of quarrels in the past. Their relations were never really friendly when they first became neighbors on the shore of the Ger¬ man Ocean, as it was called. As explorers and adventurers they were very naturally rivals, and this rivalry again showed itself when the took up commerce. Their very first difficulty was about herrings. In the fourteenth century, they came to a dispute on this subject, although both colonies had pur¬ sued the industry for very many years. The Dutch fishermen dragged their nets upon Eng¬ land’s very shores and then caused the English to buy their own fish. Naturally enough, this created a disturbance, and although no very serious difficulty arose, yet this trifling matter started the feeling of enmity which still exists. The troubles in South Africa commenced in the early part of the present century, and they have gradually increased until now. Great Britain, with the largest army that she ever put upon the field, has practically ended the war with the Boers. Many writers call England’s part in the war a mistake. When she first took possesion of the Dutch colony in South Africa, she made a good start. Everything seemed peaceful and the colonists were perfectly satisfied. The Eng¬ lish rule was much easier than the Dutch, to which they had been accustomed, and they were glad to enjoy it. In a few years, however, they received their first disappointment when the emancipation of their slaves was declared by England. The step in itself was all right, but the methods and the suddenness occasioned the trouble. As a re¬ sult of this action, many wealthy men lost not. only their slaves, but also the amount of money due them for their loss. The feeling of enmity once started could not be wholly subdued, and ever since it has from time to time come to the surface. In fact, this action was the real cause for the great immigration of many of the colonists to the land near the Orange and Vaal Rivers, where in the wilderness they formed their own country, free from the rule of England. The history of this colony up to the year