The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-04-03
THE YEA.KEPTLE LIGHT.

We extract from the March ST.
Nicholas part of a story of country
boy who started a gas factory by him
self. His name was Joe, and he lived
in New Hampshire. 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 fire light. Lamp, he
had none; candles were too dear; he
must have something else. Weeks be-
fore he had been surprised at a strange
light flaming high above a charming
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 schoollngP He re-
solved 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 tea-kettle
dumplingn 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 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 continuance close by the
fire.
"Well, Joe," laughed his mother,
"what nowP Are you going to turn
blacksmith or bakerp''
"Joe, Joe." piped Moses, twill
you be blacksmith or blacksmith.
mother saysP"
90. l am shingle-splitter," said
Joe, smiling back. "And I'd like to
be lightsmith, too, pretty we'll, if l
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, Joe?" asked
Moses.
"Why, don't you seeP It's an old
tea kettle"
What you dot in it?" piped little
Judith.
Birch-bark, SIS" responded Joe,
laconically.
maple bark is best to make ink of;
isn't it, mother?'' queried Debby.
Eyes, indeed, Joe, and you don't
have to burn it-only steep it, and put
in little copperas." 81
"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 bewitched,'
don't youP Well, think it must have
been the green birch-bark, which |
don't suppose ever before got piled
into coal-pit, that caused the light
somehow, though l don't know exact
ly how; and | am trying to see ii birch
bark won't make light here as well
as there"
Joe spoke with deprecating tone,
for he knew his fathers violent an
tipathy toward all new-fangled no.
tons"
"Well, you are Ounce, to be sure
Don't you suppose that if birch bark
had beeng good for anything but torch,
somebody would have found it out be-
fore this? Young folks, nowadays,
think they know more than their faith
T
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 house
hold joined in making fun of him and
his cracked kettle. Joe was irritated,
of course, bat was so full of his new
idea that he hadn't time to get angry,
and he comforted himself with the be-
lief that it might be his turn to laugh
before long. Yet he knew he never
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 pleading
for time to give his idea a fair trial
that his mother interposed out of pity,
and his father consented to let him
alone, thinking he would thus be more
convinced that he was following up a
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 enlightenment
harder. AMI concealing it with deposit
OF SCOT. Soon trace of steam issued
from the spout, and became a new cen
ter of interest to him, and a new SUBJ
ject for chatting by the merry circle of
sisters.
when the steam passes off the gas
will begin to come" explained Joe,
quietly. Then there was a new cause
of alarm. Jane became more and more
nervous" fidgety," 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 man.
aged 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 xua 4 L -