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The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, September 17, 1904, The Journal Junior, Image 29

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045366/1904-09-17/ed-1/seq-29/

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"WHAT'n
PresHent
and
Dogfish.
A Royal
Road to
Learning.
Ghe JOURNAL JUNIOR.
Mae Harris Anson Editor
The Journal Junior Is published by The Minneapolis Journal for
the public school children ot the Northwest, In and aboye the fifth
trade, and la deroted principally to their own writings. There la
no expense attached and all are welcomed as competitors. The
editor wishes to encourage correspondence and suggestions from
teachers. All correspondence should be addressed to the Editor
Journal Junior.
COLLEGE MEN IN BUSINESS.
S the use of a college education?" said
Joh to George. "Business men all say they
have no use for college men that they never want to
"begin at the bottom of the ladder and they do not know
enough of the ways of the business world to start any
where else. Business men prefer to take young men who
go from high school into business and work their way
up."
That is the way it used to be, but the business man
of today looks at the matter in a very different light.
In fact, he is seeking the college man even before he
leaves college. Many a college president has been con
sulted during the past few years by employers, asking the
names ot students giving promise along the lines useful in
their work.
The college man is still more or less ignorant of
business methods when he graduates, but the business
man has found that a college education is a great ad
vantage to the right kind of a man. He has decided that
what he needs in his employees is brains, and he is will
ing now to overlook temporary awkwardness for the sake
of gaining employees so educated and disciplined by their
years of study that they can rise quickly to any emer
gency. Don't give up your college education.
STUDYING THE WEATHER.
UST think of it. Every Junior may be able by and by
to tell what the weather will be twenty-four hours in
advance at least. That is, if the weather department has
its way. The weather man is tired of being the comic
opera department of the government" and blamed or
laughed at for the wrong kind of weather, and he be
lieves a department which every year saves thousands of
lives and millions of dollars' worth of property, is
worthy of being taken seriously and put into the schools.
If the idea is adopted, just think of all it will mean.
Never a Junior will be disappointed on a picnic day, for
he will know twenty-four hours in advance what kind of
weather is coming. He will know when it is going to
snow, or rain or blow or blizzard. He will know when
there is going to be a frost or thaw or drought. Even
more than this, the clouds will come to be something
better than trimmings to the sky. They will talk to him
in volumes and he will find manifold pleasures in them
once he becomes weatherwise."
Some time this summer, the story was told of
the assistance given by President Roosevelt
to two boys who were unable to land a big
fish they had caught. When the fish came to
the surface, the president exclaimed, "It's a
Shoot him, Locb!" Many people wondered dogfish! why a dogfish should have such a peculiar end for a fish.
In the first place, dogfish belong to the shark family and
have dangerous teeth second, they are not good for
food, and last of all, the scientists have just discovered
that they are responsible for the rapid disappearance of
the luscious lobster. Well, the president always does
seem to know what he is about.
If there is one thing more than another that
It id a favorite saying that there is no royal
road to learning, that knowledge of any kind
exacts hard work from the would-be wise.
But there is a ship, the Pennsylvania, which
offers almost a royal road, so far as making
learning as easy as drawing the breath of life. Just
think of learning history, geography and languages by
taking a trip lasting eight months and including stops
at all the great ports of Europe and the Mediterranean.
Anybody would like to have a chance to study that way,
tlw* would be no excuse for poor lessons, eithei.
A Gigantic Elm.
Kanabec Journal.
One of the largest trees in New England is an elm on
the farm of Fred Stanley, in Berwick. A foot from the
ground this tree, which was measured a few days ago by
William Harper Peering of Saco, aged 91, is 35 feet and
11 inches in circumference. If this tree were manufac
tured into cord wood, it is estimated it would make a pile
four feet wide, four feet high and eighty feet long. There
is a lady now living who says that her mother set the
tree out and as near as can be ascertained it tp& done in.
1800.
Grown-Up makes the editor feel that "the world do
Juniors. move," it is to run across something now
and then that shows the Juniors are actually
growing up. Early in the week a list was printed in
The Journal of new students at the university who were
eligible for membership in the various Greek letter fra
ternities. Fully half of the new names were those or an
one-time well known Junior writers. And it seems only ran to mama and said, "Oh, mama, is my cough
yesterday that they were bobbing about the Junior office,
bringing in stories or asking for Honor buttons.-
800
THE JOURNAL JUNIOR, MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, SATURDAY, SEPT. 17, 1904.
THE STORYTELLER
AT THE TOUGHERS* SCHOOL.
NNA, my cousin, was staying at our house at the
time of this adventure. She, my sister and my
self had Bevere colds and we coughed so much
that we were called "the coughers." One
Tuesday night we all went to bed early. Just
after I had gone to sleep the doorbell rang and mama
went down to answer the call. In a little while, she came
upstairs and who do you suppose came up with her? Dr.
B. Yes, there he was.
"Here! Wake up, you 'coughers,' "he called in his
jolly voice. At this my sister and Anna woke up, too.
We all dressed as quickly as we could, and then he said,
"Get your hats and come with me."
We "coughers" were never in our lives more surprised
than we were at this, and still greater was our aston
ishment when he invited us to step into his new auto
mobile that was waiting for us at the door. Then away
we sped.
All this had come so suddenly that we did not even
say "goodbye" to mama or ask a single question. At
length Dr. B. said: "Which one of you coughs the
most?"
"We are all about the same," I replied.
"Then you are in the same class," said he.
"What do you mean?" Anna said.
I have a school for coughers," replied the doctor.
Every cougher is cured who goes there. I have three
classes, first, second and third. The first class is for those
who cough the most, the second for those who do not
UNIMAGINATIVE.
AuntieDo you see the hair in this old brooch, i
Cyril? It was your great-grandfather's.
CyrilI say, auntie, he didn't have much.
Punch.
I
cough as much, and the third class is for those who
cough the least. I think I shall put you all in the first
class. I heard you were troubled with colds, so I saw
your mother about it, and she said I could take you. So
I dropped in tonight and got you."
By this time we had reached our destination. Dr. B.
said, "Get off here." Then he took us to a large build
ing with a sign over the door, "Coughers' School." He
took us to a room where a great crowd of people were
sitting at their desks writing the word "cough" over and
over again. When they saw us coming they all rose,
made low bows and coughed. Dr. B. gave us seats and
then went downstairs. Soon he came up with a book in
his hand. He said, "Rest!" We all coughed, laid down
our pencils and took rest position,
"Spell cat," he said.
The school only coughed.
"What is 2x22?" he asked. Again we all coughed.
"Now, once more, 'where is Asia?' Answer that,"
he said. For the third time we coughed.
"You are all well now, every one," said he. "You
may go home."
Of course, we did not know the way home, so he had
to take us again in the automobile. When we reached
home the house was dark and we went quietly up to bed,
feu asleep. In the morning, when I woke up, I
gone? Dr. B. said the 'coughers' school' would make
it all right. It seemed so funny last night.'*
"What are you talking about, child? You have been
coughing all night," mama told me.
"Didn't Dr. B. come and take me to school last
night?"
I should say not. Why, child, you have been dream-
ing." Athena M. Martin,
A 8eventh Grade, 3515 Tenth Avern^ P.
Horace Mann School.
mama is my cough all
OUR NEIGHBORHOOD CIRCUS.
|r was just after we had seen the dog and pony
circus that we decided to have one in our barn.
We all felt so good, and when the day came at
last, large, fleeey clouds skimmed over the sky.
Charlotte said she knew it was going to rain
and spoil everything. Girls are so queer always borrow
ing trouble. I thought it would clear off, and it did. We
boys fixed things up a heap things that girls eouldn't
do. By 12 o'clock, all was ready. Nothing had hap
pened so far that was very bad, except that Sophie
bumped her nose on a barrel that I was lifting. She
made a big fuss over it, but after mama had put some
yellow salve on it, it was all right I mean it didn't hurt.
Once I got stung by a bee and when the/ put that salw
on it, it felt fine.
The people began to come at o'elock. I was door
tender, and when some of the boys came, I lot Hon In
and told 'em "never to teH." The program began at
3, and I was in the first thing, an Tndian danee. We
like everything. We had all colore ef powder
wouldn't let us use paintand colored feathers. Ho**
we yelled!
The next was a parade of the ponies and horses. W
each rode one and had trained them to step Tip quit*
high. OUT dog went thru a good many tricks. How the
people dappednearly raised the roof off the barn. Once
again Johnnie went thru a lot of tricks on the trapeze.
He learned those up to a gymnasium he belongs to, and
I'm going there some day. The people thought that was
elegant, and everybody was saying "Oh!" and "Ah!"
My, but wasn't Johnny tired, and his face was fearful red.
But the best of all was the cakewalk. We were dressed
up BO funny, and the people just" laughed and laughed.
The couple that danced the best was to get a cakea
real one. Our cook had made it in the morning. The
judgesAlderman Coleman and the policeman-deeided
that Charlotte and Charlie had won it, and so Sophie, all
dressed up in white, brought it in on a server. When
Teddy had pulled the curtain, I told Charlie he had te
give me and Hattie a piece. He said, Well, I don't
know.''
Then Hattie stuck her chin up and said, "Well, I
know. I'll tell mama on you, if you don't. That cake's
for us as well as you. Ain't it Henry?" I agreed, be
cause Hilda didn't put that special kind of frosting on
her everyday cakes, and I wanted some. I guess Hattie
was mad, tho. Her face was as red as the blanket our
puppy sleeps on.
But all the time we were scrapping, there were the
people waiting, so I went out, but the last thing I saw
of Hattie than was her a peeking at Charlie to see
where he hid the cake. I told her to tell me. We had
some fine pigs on the stage by that time. Big ones, little,
teeny ones, naughty ones, and a few good ones. All went
well until Mr. Sloeumhe sat in the front row on a soap
boxtook out his big red handkerchief to blow his nose.
He kind of waved it and Peter, our best pig, got so scared
that he jumped right toward Miss Sloeum from college.
I never heard such a scream. She jumped up and shook
her dressjust as if our little Billy wasn't nice and pink
and clean, and run out of the door screaming like mad.
The rest of the audience got seared too, because Charlie
was running after the pig. Miss Sloeum made a sight of
herself. Girls always do someway.
Pat, the policeman, got the audience quieted down so
that one by one they filed out. Some stopped to congrat
ulate me, but my mind was on poor Billy. The other
children chased him until all of a sudden he fell down.
Sophie said he had probably got a burr in his foot, but
I know it was heart trouble, for he was' dead. Poor
Billy! I saw the girls crying andwell I didn't cry
but my eyes got jnst'full and running over.
Of course we got a scolding. The girls cried but we
boys didn't. When the girls went to bed, Charlie and L
sneaked out to the barn and Charlie got the cake from
under the boards on the floor and we ate it almost all.
I told Charlie not to remind Charlotte, so I don't believe
she remembers to this dayand it's almost a month
whatever became of that cake.
A Tenth Grade, Mary Aurelia Cone,
East Side High School. 706 Sixth St. SE.
THE OLD WOMAN UNDER THE HILL.
By James Ball Naylor.
A jolly old Woman lives under the hill
Hoity-toi-tee! What a busy old dame!
Daylight or dark it is always the same
She's knitting away to the clack of the mill
And her needles flash in and her needles flash out,
And her ball rolls around and her needles flash out,
Working away with a royal good will,
Knitting a sock for the foot of the hill!
ft
In the summer she broiders
The heel and the toe,
With the sweetest and prettiest
Posies that grow
And in winter the whole
Is of fleeciest snow.
And her needles that frolie
And flicker and shine,
Are the needles that drop
From the boughs of the pine.
This clever old woman down under the hill
Fiddle-dee-dee! What a busy old thing'
Summer and winter,-and autumn and spring,
When the night-time is wild, when the day-time is still,
She's crooning and working with music and might
In sunshine and shadow, and misty moonlight
Piecing and quilting, by hook and by crook,
A spread for the bed of the bothersome brook.
In autumn her pieces
Of yellow and red
Are petals of posies,
And forest leaves dead-*
And the sycamore balls
Are the knots in her thread
And the cotton she uses
To fashion and wad
Her quilt, is the down
From the wood-thistle's pod!
This funny old woman down under the hill
Foldy-rol-rol! Ill not whisper her name
A buxom and bustling and busy old dame,
Keeps knitting and quilting her fate to fulfill,
And whenever she's resting'tis really absurd
In connection with her but to mention the word
She is stitching away at the coat of the earth,
Repairing that garment of wonderful girth!
That coat is a marvelous
Mantle today
A patchwork of yellow
And scarlet and gray,
Of Klae and crimson,
Of green, brown and blue
A rival to Joseph's
Odd raiment in hue.
And that fussy old woman
Down under the hUl
la knitting and stitching
AB day and night still!
National Magazine.
Long-Lired Cypress Trees.
Cypress trees fa parts of America are very long
lived By counting the concentric rings where they have
been tawed thru it has been estimated that 1,600 years |s
period" of growth with them. ^&gpj2Bfct

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