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Page 50 text:
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K N saaga-so-zo-s-s-Eo-zo-QQXGI EEC F: ?Kwe-cz-cz-e-cz-ca-ae-cz-G-ca-c HWell, thatls lucky, said the old man, tth going that way myself and will carry your tur- key if you will allow me. UAllow you? Certainly I will. come alongfl When the two reached the Everette home the old man handed back the turkey and turned to go. itHere, what shall I pay you? asked the gentleman. Here it is; HOh, nothing; it was no trouble at all, said the old man as he started homeward. Mr. Everette looked and wondered. Then, turning around, he hurried back to the meat mar- ket. ttSay, who was that old man who carried my turkey? he asked the meat man. HThe man who carried your turkey? that was Federal Judge Edward Roberts. --ROMAN KOTLOWSKI. Why, Olhain n, Eakw nf maupam AUPACA is a little central Wisconsin town of Wabout two thousand inhabitants. If you board the trolley car there, which is of the'ttTooner- ville type, you can ride to the first of a chain of nineteen lakes. This lake is about four miles from Waupaca. There you could board a small launch, but that would only take you to a few of the lakes, so we will take you in our small motor boat. You see, these nineteen lakes are all connected by channels, some of which are fairly deep and wide, others shallow and narrow. But, here is our boat, so hop into it. Look down into that water; isntt it clear? And it Is just right for swimming in the summer, too. Just look around the lake; isnlt the scen- ery beautiful? Observe those stately pines; they surround nearly every lake here. These lakes are a fine place for a vacation. We are going into Rainbow Lake now. This is one of the largest. There is quite a clearing on the hill to the left; those buildings behind my illirat NE evening, as I was passing the Hotel, I met a friend who worked in the hotel. ttZuki, he said, Hwe will be very busy to- night, so you may come in and help us. Seeing my opportunity to earn a little spending money, I went With him into the hotel. The clock struck seven. My friend led me down to the cellar. As I entered it I almost fell over from the terrible smell, and from thinking that I was to work there. As I was walking through the cellar, something squashed under my foot. .My friend, hearing the noise, said, Oh, tone might almost call them a villagel are a part of the Wisconsin Veteranst Home. See what a pretty color the water is; at sunset it appears to have various hues, hence its name. Thus we go from one lake to another; every- where you see many phenomena of nature, besides much natural beauty. When passing through the channels you see the pine needles a foot deep on the ground. We cannot visit all the lakes, as we cannot navigate all the narrows with our boat. We need a skiff if we wish to see them all. As we have none with us, we return to the first lake by a different route. You marvel at the beauty and primitiveness of these lakes and wonder that they are so sparsely settled. It is strange that, except at two or three of the lakes, you will scarcely find a cot- tage. This is probably due to the many islands and lack of roads. However, I think that these clear lakes and the beautiful scenery will soon lure men on to overcome all difficulties. eFRANK H. KEHLNHOFER. $mmtahnp that is only a cockroach. There are thousands of them down here. Soon we came to the place where I was to work. In the corner was a large sink. Piled up against the wall were seven eases full of soiled dishes, which I had to wash and wipe. I thought that this was all I had to do, but every five min- utes someone would bring down another case. This kept me busy until five oiclock in the morning. During my work I fell asleep twice, only to be awakened by a cockroach whose hairy legs would tickle my ears. tugg-re-E- eeae-a-a-sasmggamf .927 33.33333: . . Page Forty-six
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Page 49 text:
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W A N a:an-zo-zo-zc-g-s-Ea-smszocjxg 1 ERC E ?:bme-cacae-cz-cz-aes-cz-e-ca-c I gamut Ollmm Embarraamh HRISTMAS was coming for the tenth time in my young life. Several days before, while playing near the house, I had seen a delivery man carry three large packages in the back door. This at once aroused my curiosity. I entered the house in order to see what these paekages contained, and began untying the one that looked most promising. I succeeded in open- ing only one knot, when my mother stopped me. I was ordered to take the bundles into the attic and come down immediately. I did as I was told; however, my curiosity was not satisfied. It was the eve of Christmas. For the past two days I had been trying to fathom the mystery of those packages upstairs, but to no avail. As soon as I attempted to enter the attic, I was told to perform some task not at all to my liking. On this particular evening we were gathered in the parloreall except my fathereawaiting the com- ing of Santa Claus. On asking where my father was, I was told he had gone to church to make his Christmas confession. I doubted this very much, for the last time I saw him that evening was when he entered the attic. I went to the kitchen, using the excuse that I wanted a drink of water, and locked the upstairs door. Then I returned to the parlor to wait for Santa Claus. About fifteen minutes later there was a ter- rifie knocking and pounding on the attic door, accompanied by a gruff voice, Which I knew at once to be that of my father, demanding a release from his temporary captivity. My mother opened the door, and Santa Claus, in the person of my father, walked majestically through the kitchen into the parlor. eALPHONSE KOHLER. Hahn mas 7E2? N A little city, on the evening before Thanks- giving Day, an old man went into a meat mar- ket to purchase a turkey. He was dressed plainly, his coat was worn, and his hat was old. NI wish to get a turkey for tomorrowts dinner, said he. The butcher showed him a fat turkey, just ready for roasting. , ' Ah, that is just what I want, said the old man; tlmy wife will be delighted with it. He asked the price and paid for it. The butcher wrapped a paper around the turkey and put it in a basket. Just then a young man entered the store. He was dressed in fine clothes and had an air of superiority about him. HItll take a turkey, said the young man. UShall I wrap it up? asked the butcher. HYes, wrap it up and send it to my home. UIt is not our custom to deliver packages after six otcloek, replied the butcher. HThen how will I get the turkey homer asked the young man. Why, carry it; it ,s not heavy. Carry it? What do you think I am to carry a turkey on such a cold night as this? Just then the old man, who was standing near the door, looked up. Excuse me, sir, said he, Hbut may I ask where you live? HI live at Number 111 Edgewood Avenue, and my name is Everette, answered the young man. s-ra-Eoioaa-Eaa-Eogf .x Page Forty-five
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Page 51 text:
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f L ean-so-g-zo-a-s-Eo-g-g-ggxgl ERCE ?KQe-ca-cz-c-z-cz-cz-ca-ez-cz-eocz-c About six o,clock my friend brought me a big dish of ice cream. It looked delicious to me, for I had had nothing to eat for twelve hours. Just as I was taking my second spoonful, a cock- roach fell from the ceiling right into my ice cream. I almost ate up the poor thing. This spoiled my appetite for another twelve hours. At seven otclock my shift was relieved. As I was leaving, I received my salary. I shall never work there again, because for those twelve hours of hard work I received only one dollar. eANTHONY ZUKAITIS. Nature? QDnm WHEN I was about six years old I used to go into the woods and pick some of nature's own strawberries. They became ripe in the middle of July. Every morning I arose at seven olcloek and took a walk into the woods. I ate delicious straw- berries first, then I went home to eat breakfast. While I was sitting on the green moss with a handful of bloodrred berries, I listened to the sweet songs of the birds. I loved to observe the birds who perched in the trees about the place where I sat. They would watch me eat the ber- ries which they otherwise would have eaten. Often as I watched them some other little visitors would come to see what was going on. As I was sitting there one morning, two young squirrels came and visited me. I sat still. mizrnnain TANDING in front of the Boston Store, I QSwatched with great pleasure the hustle and bustle 011 Wisconsin Avenue: people going into and coming out of stores in an interminable throng; automobiles blowing their horns, all in a hurry to be on their way; each one ever alert to pass any- one who should lag. Everywhere there was an evidence of great haste and excitement. A holi- day atmosphere was in the air. Windows were gorgeously decorated; crowds constantly stood before them; the places vacated by those who left were immediately taken by those who came up. Children pushed and squirmed their way to the front of the crowd, where they stood, some pointing at toys in the window, some 'with noses flattened against the glass, some gay with assurance of the fulfillment of their expec- They came within four feet of me, and they played like little kittens. All of a sudden a rab- bit came running toward me. I looked up and saw a fox chasing him. The rabbit ran to my side and crawled under the edge of my coat for protection. When the fox saw me, he ran away. I took the rabbit out from under my coat and let him run. Then I picked some more berries to bring home for my youngest sister. I plucked some violets on my way home. I had a little handful when a big black snake began to chase me. I dropped everything I had in my hands and ran for life. The strawberry season was over soon, and I did not go to the woods alone after that. -CHARLEs MIHM. anh Iliuurth tations, some wistfully gazing at what they dearly longed for, but hopelessly felt that Santa. would never bring. To some, Christmas in the past had always meant the fulfillment of their every wish; to others--th0se who gazed wistfullyeit had meant, perhaps, a single tiny toy, a vision of a mother and dad who felt rather a sadness lugging at their hearts than a spirit of joy. Such was the story brought home to my mind as I stood and watched. After a time spent in thus watching the crowds, I turned from a bystander to one of the throng itself. But, as I wended my way through the crowded street, there lingered in my mind the picture of a child wistfully gazing at a brightly tinted horn. eFRED ZAUNER. 3- 3-53-3339 33 -sng l 9 2 7 ng: mcz-ci-a-cae-a-G-G w - - . 3339-3399 Page Forty-seve;
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