Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-03-12
THE TRA.KRTTLE LIGHT.


THE TRA-KETTLE LIGHT.
We extract from the March 81. Mich
OJds part Of a story Of a country boy who
started a gas factory by himself
His name was Joe and he lived in
New Hampshire. One winter, he earn
estly wished to attend schools 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 fire-light. Lamp, he
had none; candles were too dear; he
must have something else.
Weeks before, he had been surprised
at a strange light flaming high above a
charring heap of birch wood. He found
that this was caused by the 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 schoOling2 He
resolved to try; mysteriOusly told his
brothers and sisters that he was going
to stop the cracks in a certain old tea
kettle, and disappeared into the wood
shed. The story continues as follows:
Lois called after him that if he didn't
grease his tea-kettle well, it would
stick"
Hes going to make a tea-kettle
dumpling!n shouted Deborah.
But Joe, out in the cold wood shed,
kept plastering dough over the cracks
in the tea-kettle. This well done, he
began cutting into small pieces the
birch-bark he had saved, so thatit could
be crowded closely into the tea-kettle.
By the time he had filed it. supper was
called, and Joe, going in, set his
patched contrivance close by the fire.
"Well, Joe," laughed his mother,
''what nowP Are you going to turn
blacksmith or bakerp'
"Joe, Joe," piped Moses, "win you
be blacksmith or blacksmith, mother
saysp'' .... ........
20, am a shingle-splitter," said
Joe, smiling back. "And I'd like to
be Hghtsmith, too, pretty well, if
could.n 4
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, JoeP" asked
Moses.
"Why, don't you seeP It's an old
tea-kettle."
"what you dot in itP" piped little
Judith.
Birch-bark, sis" responded Joe,
laconically. .
'Maple-bark is best to make ink of
isn't it, mOtherP" queried Debby.
"Yes, indeed, Joe, and you don't
have to burn it-only steep it, and put
in little copperas.
"I am not trying to make ink,
mother" 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 'bewitehed.
don't youP Well, l think it must have
been green birch-bark, which l don't
suppose ever before got piled into a
coaf-pit, that caused the light some
how, though / don't know exactly how
and am trying to see if birch-barB
won't make a light here as well 8;
there u.rr .....
Joe spoke with a deprecating tone
for he knew his fathers violent an
tipathy toward all "new-fangled no
tions." , .H .at 0I #G
"Wen. you are a Ounce, to be sure
Don't you suppose that If birch-barl
had been good for anything but {
torch, somebody would have found i
out before thisP Young folks, nova
DAYS, think they know more than thei
fathers. 1t wasn't so when / was
boy. You'd better just put that tea
kettle out of the way and 90 to work.
The keynote had been struck by hi
father, and every voice in the house
household Joined in making fun of hin
and his cracked kettle. Joe was irri
tated of course, but was so full of his neN
idea that he hadn't time TO get angry
and he conferred himself with the be
lief that it might be his turn to laugl
|. before long. Yet he knew he neYe
would hear the last of It if his expert
ment failed. He watched it very anX
iOusly. AT last, his father imperative
, ly ordered him TO take his kettle away
but he was so earnest in his pleadin
for time to give his idea a fair iris
that his mother interposed out OF pity
!, and his father consented to let hiI
Z alone, thinking he would thus be NOR
] convinced. that he was following up
} crazy notion.
Z SO Joe. thankful for the respite. keI
! intently watching the flames reach u
! toward the queer, patched object o
the crane. baking the dOugh-cemeI
harder, and eonoealing it with dePOs
1 of SCOT. Soon a trace of steam issue
r from the spout, and became new Gel
g terof interest 20 him, and a new subjel
e for chatting by the merry circle of 81
o ters.
"When the steam passes of the g