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The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, October 12, 1913, FINANCIAL SECTION, Image 44

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The King and the Woodcutter’s Son
CHIS is the story of a brave lit
tle boy who faced hie King
without fear and dared to stand
up for what his parents had
taught him was right and honest. It
also tells of a King who turns out,
after all, to be a good, kind ruler.
It seems a pity—almost — that it Is
Just a make-believe story, doesn’t It?
But then, you know, there was noth
ing "make-believe” about the honesty
and manliness of the lad or the no
bility of the King, as you shall see
for yourself, presently, If you read on.
Sfowadays. many a little boy and
girl finds himself )n a situation quite
similar to that of the small hero of
this tale—for honesty and loyalty are
vjwo qualities as old aa—no, okler than
the hills.
Oqeo upon a time In the long, long
ago, there lived a mighty King. His
name was Bountiful but, alas, he was
bountiful only toward himself and his
favorite courtiers. His palaces and
his Jewels wore the envy of every
monarch within leagues and leagues
of him; and his fine raiment outshone
the flowers In radiance of color.
He showered presents upon his fa
vorites and scattered money so lavish
ly that his extravagance was the won
der of all who heard of It. And in
order to satisfy his cravings for this
.display and prodigality he taxed and
ground down the poor people of his
kingdom until they had scarcely
enough food to keep soul and body
together.
But King Bountiful was not a hap
man. He listened to and feasted
upon the flattery of his courtiers who
were always telling him what a great
and good king he was and how all
the people of Ills domain loved him
; honestly and rejoiced to do hla bid
ding.
But, every now and then, he would
detect first this courtier, then another,
In a deception or—all too frequently
for his peace of mind—actually plot
ting to overthrow him and seize the
throne. Finally, King Bountiful be
came so suspicious that he knew not
whom to trust or whom to believe
was really a loyal subject.
On the outskirts of the Immense
forest which the King set apart as
his game preserve lived a poor wood
cutter, his old, shrunken wife and
their young son Felix. Now the
woodcutter was as poor as anyone In
the whole of the vast kingdom. Hlf
home was a crude hut. built of rough
hewn logs, and his only way of earn
ing a living was to carry bundles ol
wood into the nearby town and seli
them for a mere pittance.
You would Imagine, wouldn’t you,
that he would have had no trouble
in gathering sticks of wood? And
he would not have, either, had he
been able to cross the field and enter
the vast wood reserved for the King.
But the penalty for gathering wood
In that forest or, for even trespassing
there, was immediate death. So the
woodcutter and the other poor people
kept away from the King’s forest and
gathered what few sticks and
branches they could find elsewhere.
It did seem to them, Just as It does
to you, unfair and tyrannical for the
King to forbid them to enter his
forest—especially since he himself
came there not more than a dozen
times a year and the poor peasants
would have been, oh, so careful not
to cut down any trees or break cfl
branches. But King Bountiful, of
course, could not see the matter In
such a light
One cold, dreary winter afternoon,
after a heavy rain, little Felix was In
the broad field, along the edge of the
wood, gathering what few sticks he
could And. Every now and then he
would look longingly toward the
King** forest Where wood lay so plen
tifully all over the ground.
Many times had he thought how
The Best Medicine ^
IF you suppose when I am sick
My mother gives me bitter
drugs.
You're wrong: she has a better trick
Of giving me eleven hugs.
And kisses and my sweater hood
, And rubber boots if it is damp,
And out I scamper through the wood '
1 o have a jolly fresh air tramp.
hor air and light make flowers grow
And leed the grass and shrubs and
trees.
So it will make me well you know
For I am brother to all these. I
fine It would be to gather great, heaj
ing bundles of wood there and the
sell them In the town, where woo
was scarce and people were eager t
buy. But no, that could not be. Th
woods was the King's.
Presently Felix looked up fror
i fwusmi ■■ ■" ,l 1
- King will never know. Hasten!”
n Hut Felix was obdurate. “I would
d that I could, sir,” he persisted, "but
0 the King has forbidden It—and
e whether anyone saw me or not, I
should still be breaking the law. I
1 fear, alas, that you must go without
... B
m Ai.
Olive*
CVuoore
“Lad,” ho said, “I am drenched to the skin.”
gathering the sticks and saw a man
coming toward him across the field.
The stranger waved at him In friend
ly fashion and. walking slowly along
and evidently with great difficulty, he
came up to him.
"Lad,” he said In a weak voice and
through chattering teeth, "I am
drenched to the skin. Is yonder hut
your home? I fain would enter and
dry myself."
“Prithee come within,” replied Fe
lix, gatherlhg up the few scant sticks
he had collected. "My father and my
mother are both out In another direc
tion looking for wood—but when they
return they will bid you welcome to
a part of the crust of bread we have
for dinner. 'Twas a heavy fall of
rain indeed, and your garments are
wet through.”
As they entered the hut the
stranger breathed a sigh of relief and
began to divest himself of his
drenched attire.
"Come, lad,” he said, "build me a
fire by the chimney so I may the bet
ter warm myself and dry my clothes.”
So Felix selected the best of the
sticks from his scant bundle and
sought to set fire to them. Over and
over he tried; but they were all too
damp from the morning's rain. Sc
he told the stranger that he could
not make them burn.
"Zounds!” exclaimed the guest. "Is
that the only wood you have! Go
across the field and Into the forest;
there, among the thick undergrowth,
you will find many sticks that are but
slightly wet. Be quick, lad, be quick!
I am fairly numb with the cold!"
Felix regarded him a moment sor
rowfully. "I fain would do as you
say,” he made answer, "but the wood
Is the King’s and all are forbidden to
enter there and gather or cut wood.”
"The King’s! Humph! What If it
| Is!" exclaimed the stranger irritably,
i "Shall I be cold because King Bounti
: ful commands! Listen, lad, do as I
, tell you. None will see you—and the
fire—as we ourselves do so often.”
The stranger, apparently in a great
rage, seized Felix by the shoulder.
"Come, lad, no more of this nonsense.
I am—-I—I am a friend of the King’s
—and I know he will not punish you
for building me a fire. Hurryl Do
1 you not see how I shiver?”
But still Felix refused. "If that be
so," he said, “then do you go and
I fetch the wood yourself. Only, you
My Horsey
IVE got the nicest horsey at ever you did see.
He carries me so easy up an’ down;
I jes’ get on a-straddle of my big papa’s knee
An’ make believe I’m ridin’ round the town.
cannot bring it into this hut, for then
I and my parents would be sharing
In the heat from it. No, sir, the
King's command .must be obeyed!”
At that, the stranger smiled to htm
self quietly and gazed steadily at the
wall for a moment.' Then he Walked
over to Felix and placed his . hand
gently upon his shoulder.
"Hearken, lad," he said In kindly
tone, "you need have no fear—X am
the King! And surely I can do what
I will with my ownl Go! I command
you—gol”
But still Felix shook his head.
“No," he replied slowly, "no. The
King you may be—but if so, I know
you not. You certainly come not
dressed as King Bountiful. I fear j
you are but decelTing me In order j
that I may—
Just then the door of the hut was
flung open and In came the wood
cutter and his wife. Their arms were
full of faggots which they had been .
fortunate enough to find lying within j
a cave at a great distance from the :
hut.
So, since they were dry, a fire was
soon blazing away on the hearth arql ,
the stranger’s teeth ceased to chatter.
A while later, his clothes thoroughly
dry, he pressed a coin upon the poor ;
woodcutter and bade them adieu.
Two days later, Felix was scouring j
the field for sticks when a gay caval- I
cade swung into view through the
arched aisles of the King’s woods. At
its head rode a richly attired man
seated upon a magnificent charger.
It was King Bountiful. Straightway,
Felix fell upon his knees, as became
a poof peasant. But eagerly his
searching eye sought the King, for It
was considered a rare bit of good for
tune to gaze upop him.
On and on came the cavalcade; and
presently, to Felix’ amazement, they
emerged from the wood and came
across the field. Even though kneel
ing, he felt cold all over. His eyes
he kept steadfastly downcast.
Nearer and nearer came the riders
unttb it seemed, they must surely ride
right over him. Then, suddenly, the
leader stopped.
"Ho, lad,” said he In a voice that
was both kindly and familiar, "I am
not drenched this time, but I desire
that you onter yonder wood and re
turn with an armful of faggots. I
bid you build me a fire within your
hut.” i
Felix looked up, all a-tremble, and
behold—It was the stranger! Also,
It was—the King!
"Sire! Sire!" gasped the poor boy.
"I—I—sire!"
The King laughed. He reached
down from his horse, caught Felix
under the arm and lifted him up be
side him.
"Better than that, lad,” he laughed,
"we will both go and gather wood
from King Bountiful's forest for our
Are—that all may know that here
after the King no longer forbids his
people gathering faggots and sticks
there; provided they break not the
branches nor injure the trees.” And
then turning to his courtiers, “This is
the lad of whom I told you. I would
that I could be as certain of the loy
alty of every one as I am of his. 'Tls
well I wander about my kingdom in
disguise now and then, for I learn
things you are afraid to tell me!
Hereafter, the King's wood is free and
open to all. I so decree it!”
And then, smiling at the embar
rassed Felix, he added:
“Lad, X like you much. On the
morrow I shall send my servants and
you and your worthy father and
mother shall come to the palace and
be my woodcutters. Such loyalty
merits a reward and—” turning again
to his courtiers with a laugh, “wood
cutter to the King!—what think you
of the new honor?"
NO MORE LICKIN’St
TATHER was sitting by the living
room table reading the evening
paper and, now and then, read
ing an item or so aloud so that Moth
er, who sat sewing across from him,
might also hear the news of the day.
“Well, well, Ma!” he said presently.
“I see that the fishermen along the
Maine coast have gone out of the
whaling business entirely."
"Gee!" put in little Johnny, who was
sitting at one end of the table making
a pretense of studying his lessons.
"Gee, Pop, but I wish you was a fish
erman!”
A CHILD MARKET.
CHE children of the poor are year
ly sold at auction to the highest
bidder, at Ravensburg, in the Ty
rol, in the child market held there,
the boys and girls bringing only a few
shillings in most cases. These chil
dren are taken away by those who
buy them, to do hard work, the boys
being used for agricultural purposes
and the girls for domestic work. If,
as sometimes happens, a buyer can
not decide between two boys, he
makes the two fight and gives his
money for the winner.
| Ourpuzzle Corner g
PC JO K J»USSY PUZZLE.
I * • ' • ’ " ‘ ' ‘ ’ 1 I
» Ding, dong bell, Pussy’s in the well.
Who put her In? Little Tommy Qreen.
Who pulled her out? Little Tommy Trout.
What a naughty hoy was that.
Thus to drown poor Pussy Cat.
Eee if you can find the pussy cat by cutting out the black spots and fitting
fVinm ♦nffothfir.
NUMERICAL ENIGMA.
I am composed of fourteen letters.
My 6. 7, 12. 14 Is what you smell
with.
My 2, 1 Is a conjunction.
My 9, IS, 8 is the core of an ear ol
com.
My 4. C Is to exist.
My 10, 11. 8 Is to go quickly.
My whole Is the name of a famous
book of adventures.
RIDDIiE.
1 have the largest vocabulary ever
known but I can’t speak a word. Per
sons turn to me for knowledge of
words and though 1 never answer
them they always get what they want
from me. In me are “eyes,” “^ose,"
/‘ears,’’ ’’tongue’’ and ’'Angers" and
yet I can’t see, smell, hear, taste or
{eel.
ANSWERS.
Numerical Enigma: Nose, or, cob,
is, run; Robinson Crusoe.
Riddle: Dictionary.
The Little Girl Who Lo§t Her Temper
T WON'T put it on. I won’t. I
won’t!” screamed Little Girl,
stamping her foot angrily. “I
Just hate that horrid old dress.”
All the dolls in the nursery looked
very much shocked at this display of
temper and the Teddy bear said right
“but I didn’t know Temper was a
person; I thought it was something
inside of you.”
“You’ll be the death of me yet,”
J continued Temper. “The others give(
I me a little peace—but not you.”
' “Why Temper,” said Little Olrl
“Why how can you say that? I never saw you before In all my life.”
out lou,d:
"She ought to be spanked.”
"Who said that?” demanded Little
Girl, turning sharply around and, see
ing the look of guilt on Teddy Bear’s
face, pounced upon him and beat him
unmercifully.
"For shame!” cried her nurse. "I’ll
just tell your ma and see what she
has to say about such conduct.”
"I don’t care; tell her,” answered
Little Girl tossing her head saucily.
“I know what I’ll do—I’ll Just run
away; that’s what I’ll do,” said Little
Girl after nurse had left the room.
. "Wpuld any. of you children like to
come with me?” This last remark
was addressed to her little toy friends,
bbt as not one volunteered she Jerred,
“Cowards, cowards,” and ran out of
the room.
She Just stopped long enough to
put on her vgry best hat, then pat
tered down the street as fast as her
little legs would carry her.
After she had walked quite a dis
tance she felt so tired that she sat
down on a stone for a rest.
While she was sitting there an old
man, his face deeply lined with wrin
Ijleo, took a seat beside her.
"Who are you?” asked Little Girl
pertly. “Why I should think you
ought to know me pretty well,” an
swered the old man in a quavering
voice. "You give me more trouble
than any other little girl in this town.
Qetting me out of my bed in all kinds
of weather. 'Ybu ought to be ashamed
of yourself,” he finished severely.
"Why how can you say that?” said
Little Girl indignantly, “I never saw
you before in all my life. I don’t
even know your name.”
"My name’s Temper,” said the old
man. "And only* this afternoon I was
sitting by the fire havihg a little nap
when a message came for me that
I was wanted at your house lmmedi
' ately. If was something about a
[dress. Po you remember now?”
i "Yes I do,” said Little Girl slowly,
softly (she really wasn't such a bad
little girl after all) "I'm so sorry.'.'
"Will try not to send for mo so of
ten?" asked Temper eagerly. "Es
pecially rainy days, because the damp
gets In my joints and gives me rheu
matism.”
Little Girl readily gave the prom
ise. and they parted good friends.
When she arrived home nurse was
waiting at the door for her and at
once proceeded to give her a sound
scolding for running away.
Instead of flying Into a rage as she
usually did. Little Girl said meekly:
"I’m sorry, nurse,” and went up
stairs, leaving that person looking
' Per came to her like a Hash, anti she
threw herself on the bed, sobbing bit
1 terly:
"There, I promised I’d be especially
careful on rainy days and—and I’ve
j brought him out this morning and
i bis rheumatism will be worse."
Later on in the day Little Girl slip
ped out of the house and went In
, search of Temper.
She asked everybody she met. but
nobody could tell her where he lived.
At last she came to an old hut
where she stopped and knocked tim
idly on the door: "Come In,” said a
weak voice which Little airl recog
nised as Temper's.
She found him lying on the bed
gasping for breath.
“Ah, Little Girl, you very nearly
did for me that time,” he said feebly.
I “Dear, dear Temper,” said Little
Girl, throwing herself beside the bed.
! 'please get better and I’ll try to re
member."
''Lid you forget so soon?” asked
; Temper sadly, then as she hung her
: head in shame he said. "Bring me
| that rose, my dear.” As she handed It
to him he said:
“I picked this off the Tree of Mom
! ory, and the person who wears it never
; forgets. Taka It dear," he said, hand
| ing it to Little Girl. “It will help you
to remember but you must not keep
J it very long, as I have a number of
| other children watting for it.”
So Little Girl went home with the
' cose, and It helped her so much that
j In a few days she returned It to Tern
! per.
"Ha! Ha!” chuckled he genially
as she handed it to him. '“You didn’t
give me much trouble last week. Little
Girl. Why I am positively getting
fat with so little exercise.”
“Yes, you are fatter,” said Little ,
Girl, eyeing him critically, "and
you're ever so much younger look
ing."
“I feel younger,” answered Temper.
"I feel so glad I could dance with
Joy. There Is one little boy, however,
causing me a little trouble. When
ever it’s time to go to bed he at once
flies Into a rage, but once I get hold
of him and explain matters Just as I
did to you, my dear, I think he will
be better.”
“Oh I’m sure he will," answered
Little Girl. "Well, I must go home
1 now. Goodbye, Temper, goodbye."
I "Goodbye Little Girl,” said Temper,
; shaking her hand heartily, and as a
i last word of parting he said "Remem
I The Young' Photog'rapHer
HE mounts a piece of stovepipe on a soap box turned on <od»
And then to take a picture he will seriously pretend;
His coat’s the cloth for focussing which covers up his head.
And where he lacks a shutter there’s an old tin plate instead.
»
He sets his little sister in a broken wicker chair.
And chooses her position with the most excessive care; •
“Look pleasant, please,” he orders, then he fools with his “machine’’
And tells her that the picture will be the best yet seen.
He photographs each blessed thing that he can get to sit,
And plays at taking pictures till you think he’ll never quit;
Each dog and cat within a mile has many times been done,
And though he shows no pictures, still it doesn't spoil his fun.
But since he seems determined to become a photo-man.
We will help his young ambition in whatever way we can.
And so on his next birthday we will purchase for his sake
A proper kind of camera that will real pictures take.
very much astonished.
The first thing she did was to rush
to the nursery and ask Teddy Bear’s
pardon for the way ehe treated him.
Of course Teddy Bear was only too
glad to forgive his little mistress. Then
all the toys shouted: "We’re so glad
you came back Little Girl, because we
missed you terribly,” which Little
Girl thought was very sweet of them
after the horrid way she had acted.
The next morning the rain was com
ing down in torrents and it made Lit
tle Girl cross because her mother had
promised to . take her visiting that
day. and of course now that it was
raining they wouldn’t be able to go.
So when nurse arrived to comb her
charge's hair she found a very pout
ing little girl Indeed.
"Come-! Gome missy. It’s time you
were dressed,” she said sharply. And
—well, I think nurse was feeling a lit
tle cross herself that morning, be
cause Bhc pulled hold of Little Girl's
arm in a way which that young per
son resented very much, for she
shouted angrily: “Go away. Go away.
You won’t comb my hair. I—1—hate
you.”
A few minutes later, when her rage
had passed away. the ihemory of Tom
«
ber the rainy days."
And Little Girl remembered so well
that from that day everybody caned
her "The Little Girl Without a Tem
per."
WONDERFUL ROSE GARDENS.
Ty.N the outskirts of the olty . of
Lyons, In sunny France, are the
most wonderful rose gardens In
the world. There a great flat stretch
of land Is set out In countless rows
of the queen of flowers, all a-bloom.
variegated In color and perfume.
These rows, In a single garden, are
often a hundred feet In length, with
not more than eighteen Inches of
space between rows and each plant In
j a row is not more than a foot from ■
! Its neighbor.
There, In this floral paradise, the
{gardeners strive to propagate new
kinds of roses by the process of graft
■ ing one species upon another. Only
i the other year one gardener produced
j a new rose of a rare coral tint and
! luxurious perfume. One cannot g
| upon this wondrous scene withe
breathing a fervent thanksgiving
! there aye In the world such beaut
| things Jas roses.
f

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