Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-05-18
0ND MEN ORE

The other day, In the window Of q now
city stores. said the rotund man with the
grayish hair, 81 saw new-fangled con-
traption for the making Of soap bubbles.
wouldn't have known what the apparatus
was Ii It hadn't been labeled. It was an
involved. rather cut-and-dried affair. that
little machine for making soap bubbles.
But was surprised and glad to And that
soap bubbles are even thought of in the
world of today, even IL we've got to o point
where they have to be made by machine.
I'D hate to say how long It's been since
I've seen any soap bubbles-gee, the ve-.
locity Of these hurting years! Haven't
seen any. In fact. since made 'em my
self, back yonder In the little western
town, when was about knee-high to q
sand gnat. Didn't have any machine to
make 'em with, either. Just an old clay
pipe and tin wash basin and piece Of
yellow Kitchen soap, and some water out
OF the rain-barrel-but. gentlemen. what
soap bubbles We used to make with that
us young 'uns nd be fooling around
without any particular devilment In view
some day, when one of us would catch sight
OF an old clay pipe belonging to dad lying
on window sill or on the little shelf over
the stove in the Kitchen, or somewhere or
other, and that would start It. Merely
catching sight of that old clay pipe would
mean soap bubbles. The assembling OF
the rest of the tools would be quick and
easy enough. First the old tin wash basin
with the tiny rust marks in the bottom, that
always sat on the bench out in the back
yard close up against the kitchen during
the summer weather, and then some water
out of the old rain-barrel that stood d.
rectly under the spout of the kitchen caves,
and then the worn little hunk OF yaller
Kitchen soap swiped out Of the secured and
up-ended dfshpan-and all was set.
a TO vxyhf1 a 70 oh frn
water In the basin into foamy lather with
the piece of bar soap, but we were long on
time and didn't bother about that. Expert
ments would be made by the impatient ones
was sufficiently soapy, but the bubbles
thus manufactured were puny, colorless,
wholly unsatisfactory little things that died
almost before leaving the bowl of the pipe.
coey-soapy taste that I can feel on the sur
face of my palate right now when think
about 1t. but incessant immersion In the
basin finally rinsed most OF the tobacco
taste of of It. SO that in the end it tasted
only like yaller soap and nothing else.
The bubbie-making operations would
usually begin In the kitchen, but eventually
we'd be making 'efh all over the place. II
wasn't until the pipe got thoroughly soapy
and the water in the basin tuned to Just
the right degree of latheriness that sue
cess began to reward US. But after
while greenish bubble of fairish size
would blow out and detach Itself from the
pipe. and then we knew that we could go
ahead and take a chance on trying to make
the big ones. But, even at that these first
successful ones would only float in the air
for very little while before exploding.
leaving their little wicks of mist hanging
TREMENDOUSLY in the air for an instant before
falling to the floor.
After while, though. all of<the colors
OF the prism began to appear In the Dub
bles. and then we knew that they Jrere
tOuRhenlnQ fhQu ha
danced We'd dance EN- In the dining
room on the old rag earpet-biow huge big
ones. and just rock 'em gently frems.the
bowl of the pipe on to the rag carpet, and
they'd skim swayingly across it's surface for
q bit. the colors boiling into different chang
Ing hues all the time, and then they'd set
tie down on the rag carpet and wag around
for little spell. while we imagined that
they were sure enough heaven-soaring bal
looms just brought down to our sise-aTid
then. pin! they'd break, and I can remenn-
Der even now the curious wonder and un-
rest 1t aroused within my kid mind to think
that such curious beauty should SO COM
pletely vanish from the world ali in an in
slant.
Presently the little mother would come
In and catch US littering up her dining room
with masked severity, what in the wide
world we meant by wetting up her new rag
carpet that way, and chase us out into the
yard with our bubble-making gear. and SO
Wed skim the bubbles over the
grass. the little puffs Of breeze swinging
them along their rieocheting paths until
they ran into some unkind blade. that
them asunder. After while the water in
the basin I'D get SO finely tuned up that we
could blow three or four whoppers from the
one dip of the bowl, and then we'd send
quick succession-and can see 'em now.
the fine, big, purplish-blue ones sailing
ma jestically up under the branches of the
blossoming apple and cherry trees, catching
den clouds overhead, and changing hues so
rapidly that 1t puzzled and bemazed our
youthful minds to watch 'em.
Wonder what makes EN- change color
that wayT We used to ask each other.
standing sort of rapt. watching 'em-and,
come to think of it, don't know the an
swer to that question yet--do you? But
there they'd float and culver in the bright,
bang against the trellis Of the old we'll
house-the well-house that used to be all
covered over with the shower Of peach
blossoms In the spring-and others dashing
themselves recklessly against the blackened
shingles on the top Of the kitchen, and still
others, the hardy. tough ones, lodging all
of these evils and soaring truly and beauti-
fully right smack up against the blue of the
sky and the gold Of the clouds. while we
watched EN-. shading our eyes with our
hands, till they suddenly popped and drop
ped their little misty tendrils through the
air.
"well. we'd blow and blow 'em for hours,
vying with each other as to which could
make the biggest, and then dad 'ud come
home the front way. and he'd begin to scout
around Tor his pipe and OF course couldn't
find 1t, and then he'd appear at the back
door and see US using his pipe to make
soap bubbles with. and he'd bIatter out and
call us q bunch Of nuisances, and then he'd
catch sight OF one of the big purple bubbles
floating out against the sky, and he'd look
some wistful and reflective at that, and sit
down on the edge of the well-house plat
form and tell us to go ahead and make some
more, and he'd do without his smoke while
he watched us, and become pretty nigh as
enthusiastic as we were over the whoppers.
Then, after bit we'd tire, as young uns-
and grown-ups, for that matter-tire of
everything and dad would take his pipe and
blow through 1t and then put It on the back
of the kitchen stove to dry out-and one of
those glorious little seances of soap bubble
making would be over.
"All of the tykes in those days used to
make soap-say, look a-here, man, what
time 1t Is, and here I'm sitting around talk
ing about the making of soap bubbles. and
I haven't even opened my mail yeti Dye
know, sometimes believe I'm getting old.
wonder II I amf
A Record Rainfall.