The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1880-03-05
THE TEA.KETTLE LIGHT.

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Hamps ire. One winter he earnestly
wished to attend school; but this seemed
impossible for his spare time would all be
taken up IN splitting shingles. He tried,
but in vain, to do the splitting by freight.
Lamp he had none; candles we're too dear;
he must have something else.
Weeks before he had been surprised at
strange light flaming high above charring
heap of birch wood. He found that this
was caused by burning of gas which
came from the birch-bark. Why could he
not get more of the same light split his
shingles by it. and so save time for the
winter schooling? He resolved to try;
mysteriously told his brothers and sisters
that he was going to stop the cracks in
certain old tea-kettle, and disappeared into
the wood-shed.]
Lois called after him that if he didn't
"grease his tea-kettle well, it would
stick"
"He's going to make a tea-kettle
dumpling" shouted Deborah.
"But Joe. out in the cold wood shed,
kept plastering dough over the cracks in
the tea-kettle. This we'll done, he be-
gan cutting into small pieces the birch
bark he had saved, so that it could be
crowded closely into the tea-kettle. BY
the time he had filled it, supper was
called, and Joe, going in. set his patched
contrivance close by the fire.
"Well, joe" laughed his mother,
"what now? Are you going to- turn
blacksmith or bakerT'
"Joe, joe" piped Moses, twill you be
blacksmith or blacksmith, mother
saysf'
20, am shingle-splitter," said Joe,
smiling back. "And I'd like to be a
lightsmith, too, pretty well, If could" "
After supper was cleared away, and
the big kettle was taken off the crane,
Joe hung on his tea-kettle, bread dough,
birch bark, and all, swung it over the
fire, and sat down to watch the result of
his operations.
"What is it, anyhow, Joew asked
Moses.
"Why, don't you see?' It's an old tea
kettle"
"What you dot in it7' piped little Ju-
dith.
"Birch bark, Sis" responded Joe, la
conically.
"Maple bark is best to make ink of,
isn't it, mother?" queried Debby.
eyes, indeed, Joe, and you don't have
to to burn it; only steep it, and put in a
81 am not trying to make ink, moth
er," Joe answered, "though must make
some before long"
Then turning to his father, he said:
"You remember how the coal-pit we
burned last week got 'bewitched,' don't
you? Well, l think it must have been
the green birch bark, which | don't sup
pose ever before got piled into coal-pit,
that caused the light somehow, though l
don't know exactly how; and am try
ing to see if birch bark wont make light
here as well as there"
Joe spoke with deprecating tone, for
he knew his fathers violent antipathy
toward all "new-fangled notions"
"Well, you are Ounce, to be sure.
Don't you suppose that if birch bark had
been good for anything but torch some
body would have found it out before
this? Young folks nowadays think they
know more than their.fathers. 1t wasn't
so when was boy. You'd better just
put that tea-kettle out of the way and
go to work."
The keynote had been struck by his
father, and every voice in the household
joined in making fun of him and his
cracked kettle. Joe was irritated, of
course, but was so full of his new idea
that he hadn't time to get angry, and he
comforted himself with the belief that
it might be his turn to laugh before
long. Yet he knew he never would hear
the last of it if his experiment failed.
He watched it very anxiously. At last
his father imperatively ordered him to
take his kettle away; but ne was SO earn
est in his pleading for time to give his
idea fair trial that his mother inter-
posed out of pity, and his father con-
sented to let him alone, thinking he
would thus be more convinced that he
was following up crazy notion.
So Joe, thankful for the respite, kept
intently watching the flames reach up
toward the queer, patched object on the
crane, baking the dough cement harder,
and concealing it with deposit of SCOT.
Soon trace of steam issued from the
spout, and became a new center of in
terest. to him, and new object for chat
fing by the merry circle of sisters.
"When the steam passes off the gas
will begin to come," exclaimed Joe,
quietly. Then there was new cause of
alarm. Jane became more and more
-"fgedty," as her mother said
because company was coming, and her
brother and his old tea-kettle "would be
town talk"
This nearly stopped his proceedings,
but he managed to save his machine
little longer, James ''young man" still
delaying his expected coming; and as the
clouds of steam began to grow less and
less, with strange earnestness, that even
the thoughtless little ones respected, Joe
begged for only ten minutes longer and
warned Jane and her tongs away from
interfering, in tone SO quietly stern
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