The National tribune., 1882-11-09
OUR YOUNG FOLKS.
Charles First DOughnut.---HOW He
Gained a Great Victory.
fRr irnrnnrct Rerthn Wrirhf-l

He had heard his mamma talk OF them all
his life, and always as of something sur
passingly delicious, and more tempting than
had ever been, would ever be, or ever could be
seen on any table or in any confectioners win
dow in all Italy.
She often described to him their brown crisp
ness and savOry odOr, as they passed hot, piled
high in huge pan, from an American cook
stove to an American pantry, and he fancied
he knew as well as if he had tasted it a thou
sand times, their sweet tenderness as they
melted cold on appreciative tongues at Ameri-
can supper-tablGs.
Nevertheless. as many times as his mamma
had told Charlie of their flavor, their looks
and their ingredients and so sure as he was
that he knew as much about them as though
he had grown up in Massachusetts instead of in
Italy, his idea was as l have said, a very queer
| one. For instance, he could never believes
often as he was told to the cOntrary-that these
crisp, tender, toOthsome doughnuts were not
dotted thick with raisins. For being particu-
larly fond Of rasins, he always associated them
in his mind with every unknown dainty de-
scribed to him as being speciality Of his dear,
| but unknown native land. Squash pies, apple
puddings, buckwheat cakes, moasses candy,
johnny cake, and even sweet pOtatOes-he
never thought of any of these strange untastcd
deliCiOusness upon which his mammals Amcri-
can visitors often waXed eloquent, that he did
not see them in his minds eye genmed blackly
with his favorite fruit. Likewise could he
never quite disassOciate them with chocolate, it
having been his lifelong experience in Italy
that few dainties ever came upon the table
without at least dash or suspicion of chocO-
late about them-oftener complete covering,
thick, brown and shining, in substance much
like the frOsting one sees on fine cakes in
America.
Thus you see how curious and foreign to one
who has never lived in our country are some of
the commonest things ofour daily life. Tomany,
many people of this world, candy pulls, coast
ing frolics, sleigh rides baked beans, fish balls,
mince pies and doughnuts, are as remotely
foreign and almost incOmprehensible as sleeping
in banyan tree, hunting crOcodiles, peiting
masqueraders with confetti from Roman baIco-
MES, tramping bare-legged in the wine-press or
gathering and eating dinner of snails, would
be to you.
Charlie had lived in Italy ever since he was
two years old. Now that he was eight, and
could read the most interesting tales in his
mothers American newspapers and magazines
quite as well as he could his Italian school
books, and had received for his birthday pres
ents a good many story books of American
child life he was fully convinced that America
was the most glorious country fer boys that the
sun shines on. This was why he asked so
many questions about America talked so in
cessantly of it, and Dragged so tremendously of
being an American to his italian playmates,
that sometimes his mamma almost wished he
had been born HOttentot or a heather Chi
nese.
America was upon his tongue in doors and
out.
He could never see one of those melancholy
professions of black blue, or red-petticoated
school boys marshaled by priest in robes for
their daily walk-Or rather crawl-to the
Pincio, that he did not almost prance him
self off his little fat legs with joy that he
wasn't Roman schOolbOy, and that he be-
longed to a blessed country where boys
don't wear petticOats, or scholars pass their
recreation hours walking in company with
q grave, broad-hatted priest, but leap-frog
over each other, turn summer-saults, shout like
wild Indians, or shake with a ST. Vitus' dance
of enjoyment if so it pleases them, without re-
bulle from anybody!
"Cracky! Ge-np-say-lum Hello! Pm multo
contentO to be an AmericanO!" he would cry,
quite unconscious Of any foreign admixture in
his words.
why, Charlie Norton what language is
that?" his mamma would ask.
And then the young American, swelling
like pouter pigeon would answer: THE
'Merican language, mamma That's always the
way we 'Merican fellers talk when we go on
an old spree into the woods after chestnuts or
down on the river to skate I've read about it in
some Of nay story books"
But it was at the dinner-table, in their stone
foored studio in the fifth story of their cold.
grim, Roman palace that Charlie Oftenest lost
his breath with questions about the good
things American boys have to eat when they
como home hungry from play or school. And it
was there, too, that Mrs. Norton, seeing the
dinner already half cold from its journey in a
tin box up from Karlin's restaurant growing
still colder, would bid him eat his cheese
covered maccaroni. his oil-fried cucumbers and
III lleF eat ltIS
in peace, or she never would have strength
enough to go home to America before he was
too big to slide squat a-bumbO downhill, to
walk on his hands and head, to go huckelber-
rying, or to scare her out of her wits some
dark night with pumpkin Jack-o'-lantern.
And then Charlie would become specchless-
till the chocolate sweets came on, when he |
would almost invariably forget himself again:
4" | say, mamma, how many doughnuts could |
fellow eat at a time?"
One forenoon Mrs. Norton sat in her studio |
before pile of dark wet clay. She wore a |
close cap like a very old woman, ard long |
pinafore like very young girl. She was busy |
shaping something that remotely suggested |
Charles head as it might look after it had /
been kicked about for an hour or two in a brisk .
game of baseball
Charlie sat before her, evidently bursting
with some question of "'Merica," but not
daring to move his lips while his mother mod
elled from them.
Mrs. Norton herself spoke at last
"You are tired, dearie. You need not pose
any longer Go and take this package of
American newspapers to Mrs. MILAN; the ex-
ercise will do you good"
Mrs MILAN was an old schOolmate of Mrs
Norton's who was spending the winter in
Rome. Charlie left the package of DiT0n Iele-
graphs at her door, and had just turned away
when Mrs. MILAN called him to wait a mo-