The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1878-02-07


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An Old Story Retold.
I don't know just what to do In the
first place, such dreadful things happen
to people who steal stories. To be sure,
I have not stolen any, although the one
I am going to tell you is very much like
that splendid one "The Giant in the
Bottle" that I read in an old fairy-book
years ago. Now, that was only story,
and [ read it, while this has just hap
pened and SO must be true; and yet the
two are so much alike that I can't under
stand it at all, unless-who knows Pun
less the "story folks" are real people
shut away in books, and once in while,
say every hundred years, they come out
from beneath the covers of their prison,
and live the self-same stories over again.
Though I cannot quite understand why
the two should be so much alike, yet this
much do know when the old giant, or
his double, reappeared upon the scenes
for the second time, it was at the begin
ming of our famous Centennial year,
1875.
At first 10 one had any idea that it was
a giant.
For months and months something had
been the matter with one of the wheels
in the great printing press. Now this
little wheel had great deal of hard work
to do. and it's shaft, instead of being
single one, was double, the two pieces
being securely fastened together. AS [
said before, something was the matter
with this wheel, but just what no one
seemed able to tell. The more it was
oiled the louder it creaked; the bands
were loosened and frightened, but with
the same result.
-" Creak, creak, creak," it went from
morning till night, making it's shrill
voice heard above all the din of the
surrounding machinery.
There were those who could have told,
had they been asked, but no one thought
the bits of black type knew anything
about it and they were lazy fellows
these little black types SO they said to
themselves, "We have enough to do
now-from night till morning, and from
morning till night, we are kept shaving
away upon the pages Of this great news
paper; now if little 'creak' gets out
therell be columns and columns more of
work to do, and we'll never get mo-
ment to rest ;" and they clattered away
the louder, hoping with their noise to
drown the sound of his pleadings.
And so it went on until one day wise
man came into the great room where the
little wheel was, and passed up and down
about the machinery, looking to see if
everything was all right.
"Ah, what is this-what have we
here ?" he exclaimed, as he stopped be-
fore the little wheel, and bent down to
listen.
''Iet me out let me out let me
out p cried shrill voice from within.
"Well well !" said the wise man /;
and reaching down in his pocket he drew
out steel bar, and began to undo the
fastenings of the wheels shaft.
When the bits of black type saw this,
they fairly shook in their cases, for they
knew what was coming.
After one or two turns of the steel, the
shaft of the wheel fell apart, and out
dropped tiny black roll of something,
just what the wise man could not tell,
so ne put on his glasses and bent down
to examine. AS he looked, it began to
unroll, growing larger and larger. First,
out came a queer little bunch that
looked like a foot, and presently it was
followed by another. Then on either
side of the roll appeared tiny hands
that stretched themselves out to make
room for pair of arms and. last of
all, with a "ke-choo P'-that, large as
he was, fairly made the wise man Jump
up popped a tiny head.
" W-h-y-really p said the astonished
wise man-and he took off his glasses
and gave them vigorous polishing, to
make sure he had not been mistaken.
But no, there it stood, the oddest-look-
ing little creature he had ever seen.
"Whc are you?" he at last found
voice to ask.
"I'm the Prince of Story Tellers, your
Honor" was the shrill reply.
"And did you really come out OF
that ?" pointing to the wheels shaft.
"To be sure, answered the elf, bob
bling his little head up and down to give
emphasis "to be sure did,"
"Well-well-well," was all the as
tonished wise man could say.
Perhaps you won't believe me, !" con-
tinued the elf, /" but Tn regular giant,
only give me the chance to grow. IknoW
I look rather small now; but who
wouldn't, after being crowded into that
tiny hole for nobody knows how long.
But now that I'm safely out thanks tx
you) won't I give it to them, though 7
and his black eyes fairly twinkled with
delight.
"Give it to them-who?"