The National tribune., 1883-06-28
AN OLD POCKET BOOK,
And Little Hope Hunters Blue Paper
Wind Mills.
by Julia K. Hadrcth.I

by Julia K. HidretF.I
One warm day in June, when the sky was
all covered with flying black clouds, and the
distant hills half hidden by thick veil of gray
mist Hope Hunter scampered along wide
country road that ran between the school
house in the village of Burbank and her home,
which was about mile distant.
Hope was in desperate hurry to reach home
before the rain fell, for she wore her new blue
dress, and her mother had said, as she fastened
the last button,
Now, Hope, this dress looks very nicely,
and it took me long while to make it. So
try not to spoil it in one day, as you did your
last"
Hope looked anxiously at the frowning sky
as she flew along, her school-bag swinging on
her arm and her hat pushed far back on her
head. She had almost reached the garden gate,
when her foot caught in a projecting root of an
oak tree in the road, and she fell full length
upon the ground, strewing the contents of her
bag in all directions.
The tears stood in Hopes eyes rs she collect
ed the scattered articles and crammed them
hastily back in the bag. They were all safe,
but the beautiful pearl penknife her father
had given her as birthday gift, and that she
could find nowhere. A steep bank covered
with long grass and weeds sloped away from
the road near the tree over whose roots Hope
upon the road, it must have slipped over this
bank. So Hope scrambled upon the gnarled
roots and peeped down.
Yes, there it was, shining brightly among
the grass aud leaves. She jumped down,
snatched it up, and was about TO spring back
to the road, when her eye fell upon an old
leather poclKet-book lying close TO where she
had found her knife and half hidden under
large stone. Hope picked it up, and, climbing
back TO the road untouched the broad strap
with which it was fastened, and looked in. 1t
was filed with papers neatly folded and crowd
ed together so closely that the poclIet-book
bulged IN all directions.
81 thought it couldn't have any money in
it." said Hope; 1T looked too old and greasy.
Some one must have thrown it away. OH, how
nice and thick!" she exclaimed, as the paper
rustled between her fngers-"just the thing to
make pin wheels Of"
At this moment a large drop of rain fell from
cloud and splashed down upon Hopes nose.
She flung the pocket-book hastily on the
ground, thrust the papers into her bag, and
ran hurriedly down the path to the house.
The rain fell briskly as she flung open the hall
door and ran painting into the front room,
where her mother sat reading letter.
odd the rain catch my little girl?" said
mamma, as Hope lifted up her mouth for a
kiss
"Oh no, I ran too fast" answered Hope,
h
the scrubby root of that old tree on the road"
did you hurt yourself?" inquired her
mother, anxiously.
Not much"
9Those roots must be cut off" said mamma,
going to the window and looking out. Only
yesterday | saw old Mr.. Grubby stumble head
long across the road. He might have killed
himself"
Mamma, there's that nice sailor man who
gave me the little ship" said Hope, suddenly,
pointing out of the window to a young man
who was just then crossing the road" Mrs.
Barns son, you know"
Dear! dear! the root has tripped him up
too cried Mrs. Hunter.
Hes not hurt, mamma See! he jumped
up as lightly as bird. 1 wonder what he is
looking at in his hand? Oh l see now-it's
the old pocket book"
What pocket-book, Hope?" inquired her
mother
q found an old pocket-book on the bank,
but it was so greasy that threw it away"
Hope, the postman brought letter for you
this morning from your Cousin Amy" said
Mrs. Hunter, turning away from the window,
and forgetting all about the pocket-book
Did Amy write it all herself?" inquired
Hope, wonderingly.
" | think so,' answered her mother with
smile.
Please read it to me- mamma; can't read
writing very we'll"
This is what Amy writes" said Mrs Hun
ter, holding the letter so that Hope could see
it distinctly, and pointing to each word with a
needle:
DEAR COUSIN HoPE,-I am coming home Satur-
day. l have new doll and new doll carriage
Don't forget to make the pin wheels you promised
Your eyer-loying cousin, AMY"
AZ think that's very nice letter." said
Hope, as her mother finished reading. "PH
go right away and make the pin-wheels If you
will let me have your sharp scissors, mamma
''Yes, dear. you may have them. And will
go and tell Sam to cut off those roots in the
road before they do any serious damage"
As her mother left the room Hope took the
scissors from the work-basket, and the paper
she had found in the old pocket-book from her
bag, and skipped upstairs to her little play
room in the garnet.
The rain was pattering over the roof and
dashing against the window-panes as Hope
seated herself upon the floor and began her
work. The paper she had found was of light
blue color, with narrow dark blue line close
to the edge. Hope spread these strips of paper
out upon her knee and counted them over
There were twelve in all, and just twice as long
as they were broad and as pin-wheel must
be square, Hope cut them in two, and had soon
made twenty-four pale blue pin-wheels. The
few words written on each did not mar their
beauty at al, for Hope had hidden these SO
closely, would have discovered that the paper
was not perfectly clean.
When they were finished and pinned to their
handles Hope stacked them in one corner Of
the room, and looked proudly at her handi-
work.
"There!" said she, aloud. "Amy can write
letter, but she can't make pin-wheels like those
I'll leave them up here until next Saturday, SO
that they will not be spoiled This is Tuesday,
| and Wednesday, Thursday and Friday are
three more" said Hope, counting on her fingers.
That's long time" Then she closed the
door and went downstairs.
The next day as Hope came home from school
she saw large crowd collected around William
Barns house, and heard loud voices within.
She hurried home with the news to her mothex.
L am afraid theya are going to arrest William
Barns for stealing" said her mamma, sadly.
What has William Barns stolen?" cried
Hope, in establishment
"Old Mr.. Grubby accuses him of stealing
great many hundred dollars"
"Oh, mamma l don't believe he ever stole
anything he has such nice brown face and
/ always smiles at me-"
am afraid that is no proof of his inno-
cence," said her mother, patting her on the
head But am very sorry for poor Mrs.
| Barns"
| Hope thought frequently of William Barns
| during the week, and missed his kind face in
| the village 1t made her feel nnite sorrovvf,l