The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1918-02-28

long, lean little legs in smart white
leggings.
On the top of her head, RIGHT in
the midst of her glossy black curls,
a round patch of skull cap, with
saucy tassle bobbing about one ear
Prim and sedate, she stands on a
big SNOWFALL, and forms about all
the tableau which could be put IN SO
small space.
Only an instant of that wonderful
pose, then there's a flash of yellow
through the air, and she's racing up
the avenue after a diminutive boy in
red military pants, his toy gun IN
one hand and her doll in the other
There are tiny blobs of darting
color in all the shades of pink and
blue; there are violets and grays and
glorious greens.
And there's little girl in scarlet!
There's another one, No, there are
, three of them, all exactly the same
size, all dressed exaxctly alike. all
with absurdly long lean legs stretch
ing far down from absurdly short
skirts, all pink checked, red-lipped,
sparkling eyed, and each with
smar. dog led by scarlet strap.
Deep in the delights of "Follow
my leader" are these three; but it's
a slow game, because each of the
dogs, in his turn, must get up on
/ the bench and circle twice and get
| down again, without exactly under
standing why. Sometimes dogs are
| more or less dumb.
! There's another youngster with a
wooden gun. Oh yes, rather cheap
wooden gun, for even the Riddles are
doing without things on behalf of the
| big war; but they're not being de-
prived; they're making sacrifices.
! end know that they're doing it, and
are proud of it!
Guns are especially popular these
| past few years with small boys. This
| one has on the velvet tam" of a
| pcllu, and he walks with quite an
| air or responsibility for a person
| future men of France, and seems to
know it, somehow or other.
1t gives rise to rather sober re-
Election to note that his mother is
| In deep mourning. One might think
| that the cause of that mourning
would make her object to q gun as a
| toy for her baby, and that there
might be pain to her in the martial
| stride with which he carries it. but
nothing of the sort is apparent. for
as he says something to her he looks
up with a laugh, and she answers
with a smile.
| Skating in the ois de Boulogne !
| There, with gay knitted caps and
warm mittens and skates over their
shoulders, marches a group of kiddies
the biggest ones in the lead and the
| littlest ones stretching their legs al
most straight out to keep up with
| the procession. Strange, here are no
sleds. 1t scarcely SHOWS often enough
| for that, however.
| Here are a couple of gamins! No
| change in them anywhere in the
| world Battered shoes, and tattered
/ knitted caps like Ounce caps TANNED
down over their ears, the tassle half
off of one cap and entirely off the
other, and the invariably knitted
muffler wrapped around the neck,
and streaming over shoulder or be
meath an arm or somewhere, but
| Haunting with French iauntiness
wherever the ends may be.
Fire red cheeks, they have. and
wide grins, and a dancing devil III
each eye; and they are indulging in
/ the perhaps unrefined but universally
known joy of humping each other off
the sidewalk.
The poor as we'll as the rich have
right to the Champs Elvsees, and
while there may be difference in
the quality of their clothes and a
difference in the making, there is