Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1878-08-07
YOUTHS COLUMN.

Who'd Hare Thought H.-Mollie
Bentley, with a paper and pencil in her
hand, and disconsOlate face, wan
dered through the rooms asking mann
ma, Laura and Uncle Dick, what she
should write about for her essay
ut has got to be ready tomorrow
morning" she said; "and ! have writ
ten about spring time" flowers and
everything. IdOn't know what l shall
dO,n
.Poor child,r said Laura, laughing.
"You have used up all the subjects
there are in the world, and all the
ideas in your head, and here you are,
only ten years old. What pity.
Mamma laughed too, and Mollie
thought they were not very helpful.
Uncle Dick looked up from his news
paper.
''I'll tell yon what TO do. Mollie,
Go out on the side piazza and sit for tif-
teen minutes and put down on your
paper every single thing that you see
or think about, and write an essay that
shall be about them all.n
why. Uncle Dick exclaimed
Mollie, with wide open eyes, a" there
isn't single thing to see on the side
piazza. I've sat there for hours and
hours and haven't seen a thing"
''Never mind. I'll give you just
fifteen minutes; at the end of that
time I'll call you. Be honest now,
and see if You will have nothing
written on your paper when you come
in."
So feeling half provoked and half
amused MOllie took herself to the side
piazza. There's nothing here" she
muttered; nothing in the world, but
the old gatepOst that needs painting"
Then she stopped and began to laugh
little. Now she would have to write
about the gate-pCst; she had certain
ly seen it and thought about it; so she
put II down on her paper. Then she
bird" she exclaimed; ''red breast and
yellow wings, and a brown rutfie
around his throat. Then she laughed
again and wrote down, "a red-breast-
yellow winged bird, trimmed with
brown. smelling of the flowers
"What a mass of flowers, vines and
moSses that arbOr was, to be sure.
One, two, three, five kind of flowers"
she said in dismay. 81 can never write
about them ALL" she exclaimed; but
she wrote their names. "Oh, there's a
| butterfly queer one; his wings are
made of three different cOlOrs."
Down went his name, "How funny to
think that he was once a hOrrid cater
pillar" she said; and then there, now
I've got to write about caterpillars.
That's pretty bit of lichen on that
tree, gray and green and yellowish.
Oh, dear me; my essay will be about
everything, / must stop seeing,
What queer things eyes are, to see
SO many things all at once. Now
shall have to write about eyes; I'll
look right straight up in the air SO |
can't see anything. Why, what a
funny cloud; never saw such a queer
shaped one. Ii is black and gold
cOlors, aud all fringed around the
edges with red,
Just then she stopped, and with a
81 can't look anywhere without seeing
things" she said. gravely. 81 suppose
it wouldn't be right To shut my eyes;
wonder if it isn't almost fifteen min
utesf Why there's drop of rain on
| my nose; | thought that queer cloud
| had rain in it. There now, | must put
rain down. | am glad it can't snow.
! oh, dear me, now | shall have to put
| that down. | never saw such queer
things as thoughts. Silence for a
minute, and then not knowing wheth-
er to laugh or cry, she put down
thoughts on her paper.
Times up called Uncle Dick.
"I'm glad of it." she said hurrying in.
"Uncle Dick, I've seen and thought
about everything in the world most. L
can never write about them all in one
essay
"You will have tO,- said Uncle Dick;
"and make good sense of it too. That