Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1880-11-05
HOW CELIA WROTE A COMPOST
TION.


CELIA was twelve years old; bright
little girl at her lessons, anxious to be
at the head of her classes, and general
favorite in school. No matter how long
or hard the lesson, the first little face
to brighten as the teacher marked it off
to the class was sure to be Celia
Browns; hers the first voice to exclaim:
"Oh, reckon we can get it if we try
right hard; and | certainly will do
that n'
Accordingly. Miss Nelson was pre-
pared to receive bright look of acqui-
escence from Celia, at least, when she
one morning announced to the little
class that composition would be ex-
pected from each one on the Friday of
the following week, but she was disap-
pointed. To her surprise, Celia's face
said as plainly as words could have
spoken, d" can't possibly do it, Miss
Nelson, and it's of no sort of use to
try"
"What are we to write compost
tion about, Miss NelsonP" asked one
girl, whose face matched Celias in ex-
preston. 81 don't know enough to
tell of any one single thing in this whole
worldr'
Miss Nelson smiled.
"Oh, yes. you do, my DEAR" she re-
piled, pleasantly. a think YOU will
find you know something worth telling
about salt when you put on your think
ing-cap and make up your mind to try.
At any rate, that is what l expect you
to do try! And | will let you know
afterward how nearly you have sue
ceeded to my satisfaction"
Celia Brown never said a word She
just closed her lips tightly and shook
her head in utter despair. 1t was of no
use to talk to her; composition she
could not write. Pages of spelling,
half the grammar or geography, miles
of arithmetic, would not have daunted
her anything like the mere word COM
position. She could not think of any
thing else that afternoon, and at the
tea table she looked so distracted and
was so unusually silent, that her big
brother Tom, Just home from college,
desired to be told if her tongue had
gone out to spend the evening.
go sister, how you did practice your
music lesson this afternoon" added
little Willie "you just banged and
bOIC L ICChOH SIG OllOlIl cDullb uCT
one, two, three's much, mammal"
" mamma, Miss Nelson has told all
the girls in my class to write a compo-
sition for next Friday" said Celia, dis
regarding her brothers personal re-
marks, and looking anxiously at her
mother; land l know | can't do it.
just couldn't do it if it would save my
life; / would rather undertake to recite
seventeen chapters of historym
Nonsense" said her father, laugh
ing; sit is quite time you learned to
use you mind in composition. Seven
teen or twenty-seven chapters of history
will not do you half the good that six
lines of carefuny-writte composition
will do. And you will not find it diff
cult, Celia, if you do not make up your
mind against it. Did Miss Nelson give
you subject"
eyes, papa-salt," was the reply, in
a disgusted tone. "The idea of such a
subject! | can't think how ANYTHING
interesting could be written upon salt!"
"Oh, write about the cat exclaimed
Willie. 81 wouldn't write about salt,
either; nasty stuff! just write on the
cat I'll tell you exactly what to say:
/ can write composition. Pooh! it $
easy. Wait till mamma sends me to
school. Now you just write this, The
cat is n real nice animal. It's got three
white feet and one black one. It's got
a spot on its breast, too. 1t has four
dear little kittens; and it washes her
face every morning with her paws. She
ticks her face-this amt nice; but what
can you expect from poor silly catP
1t don't know any better. And ours is
named Thomas Matilda, after nurse s
brother and sister,
bravo, Williev' exclaimed his ia
ther, joining in the hearty laughter of
the others at the little boy. $50 you
can write composition. I'd advise
sister to call on you for help. by all
means"
THAT composition might do for you,
Willie, dear, said Celia, still laughing;
"but think itwould sound rather queer
to Miss Nelson"
"Why, you needn't care hotO it
sounds. Need she, papaP She just
tells every single bit she knows. That
is the way I'm going to do when write
compositions. +"
That is tolerably sound advice, :"
said her mother, looking at her, with a
smile. "Just put the thought of how
it will sound quite out of your mind,
and write down all you know about
SAT-"
The next day was Saturday. About
ten o'clock Celia sat down at the little
table in her bedroom, and made up her
mind to try.
"Saltr' She wrote at the top of her
paper, and then there came an awful
pause. "Oh. dear, l0hqt shall say about
itP Salt! Salt Well, Pm sure
don't know DItat it is exactly, unless
it's salt! and here Celia's thoughts were
interrupted by II laugh. "pll get old
Webster, she continued, thinking
aloud. Lets see now," and she
whirled the leaves rapidly to the SIS.
"Um! here it is: 'Salt-chloride of
sodium-a substance used for seasoning
certain kinds of food, and tor the
preservation of meat, etc. 1t is found
native in the earth, or it is produced by
evaporation and crystallization from
waterimpregnated with saline particles
Well, do declared If that's all Mr..
Webster has TO say about salt, how
should l be expected to know any more9
The idea! Why, don't know any more,
and don't knOW that! Well, do say
Miss Nelson is unreasonable" Celia
wriggled herself nearly OFF her chair,
sighed, groaned famed herself, bit
her pen-handle, and finally, at Willie's
call, jumped up and ran from the room,