A BAD PLACE TO BE BORN IN.
There are a great many advantages in being born an American citizen. One can hope to become President of the United States and various other high and mighty things; but, after all, the greatest privilege is in being born among a people who are free from foolish superstitions. Suppose you had been born on the Congo River, for instance. How would you like that when you consider some of their beliefs? It is told by persons supposed to be well informed that the people inhabiting the district round the Congo River share with the Ashantees, of whom we have recently heard such a lot, the belief that if their high priest, the Chitome, were to die a natural death the whole world would follow suit at once, and would dissolve into air, for it is, according to them, only held together by his personal will.
Accordingly, when the pontiff falls ill, and the illness is serious enough to make a fatal termination probable, a successor is nominated, and he, so soon as he is consecrated, enters the high priest's hut and clubs him or strangles him to death. A somewhat similar custom obtains in Unyore when the King falls seriously ill, and seems likely to die, for his wives to kill him. The same rule is followed if he gets beyond a certain age, for an old Unyore prophecy states that the throne will pass away from the family in the event of the King dying a natural death.
[A DELFT PARTY.]
BY EMMA J. GRAY.
"Look here! look here!" and mischievous Penelope rustled a handful of bank-bills before her mother, and the next second raised them above her head and waltzed around the room.
"What ails you, child, and where did you get that money?" was the ready inquiry, while Mrs. Thayer's admiring eyes followed her daughter's graceful, swift-moving figure.
All of a sudden Penelope's rosy face, flushed with exercise and radiant with happiness, burst into a merry laugh—one of the laughs that ripple all through the atmosphere, and prove so contagious that everybody within hearing of it laughs also.
Then stopping just before her mother, and again rustling the crisp bills, for they were bran-new, she this time teasingly said, "Guess."
"But I cannot."
"Well, then," and dragging a chair so as to be opposite both her mother and Cousin Blanche—this cousin has been a young lady for over ten years, and makes her home with them—Penelope sat herself down, and with the tantalizing manner that she could assume on occasions, slowly counted, "One—two—three—four—five," and so on, laying one five-dollar bill over the other while doing so, until they numbered ten. Then satisfactorily surveying the pile before her, she raised her eyes, and looking full into the earnest faces of her listeners, exclaimed, with a wave of her hand in the money direction, "All mine!"
"You tantalizing, tormenting—" and Penelope's mother, trying to look severe, rose, and threw on the blazing log fire a paper which, until her daughter's entrance, she had been reading, and then with a swift backward turn of her head she concluded, "mischievous girl."
Mrs. Thayer was rarely known to have administered anything but caresses on any of her children, much less to her only daughter and youngest child. "Mother's pet," the boys called her, but people called her everybody's pet, for from her youngest brother to her eldest, and she had five of them, their first question was, "Where's Penelope?"
Therefore Mrs. Thayer was not at all surprised when her daughter finally told her that the money was a present from Uncle Dan. Uncle Dan was Mrs. Thayer's bachelor brother, and lived with them off and on, and Penelope farther explained, while delight streamed from every feature of her mobile face, "that uncle had given her the money to spend on a party"; and having told her story, she raised her gray-blue honest eyes to her mother, and asked,
"I could give a party for fifty dollars, couldn't I?"
"Of course you can! the loveliest sort of a party, too," was the assuring answer. Then, as that matter was arranged, Mrs. Thayer turned towards Blanche, who was quietly watching the interview but saying not a word. "Have you any scheme to suggest?" But before Blanche had an opportunity to reply Mrs. Thayer interjected, suddenly rising to give her dress a fresh smooth out, "Penelope, how would you like to give the party on your birthday?"
"I'd love to, mother," and very rapidly her little hands were clasped together while she added, "May I?"
"I don't see why not; your birthday is—let me count—just three weeks hence;" and with the most satisfied air Mrs. Thayer exclaimed, "Plenty of time. But run away now, dear, for we want to plan your party when you're not around."
And after a slight demur, for Penelope was thirteen years old and thought she should be taken into the consultation, she rose and gayly tripped out of the room.
"Now, Blanche," and Mrs. Thayer wheeled about to face her.
"You amuse me. What should I know about children's entertainments?"
"You're the very one that does know. Haven't you been all over the world nearly? Of course you know."
"Well, how do you think Penelope would enjoy a Delft party?"
Shaking her head slowly, Mrs. Thayer replied, "I never heard of one."
"Nor have I, and I am astonished that it has not been introduced long ago. As New York was settled by the Dutch, a Delft party could partake of the real Knickerbocker flavor—none of the sham kind;" and with this last word Cousin Blanche rose and walked nearer to the fire, adding, with a slight shiver, that she was cold.
Mrs. Thayer thereupon rang for the maid, who received orders to bring more wood, and as the fire crackled and blazed, Cousin Blanche talked steadily.
"Of course the word Delft suggests Holland, and we right away think of the large windmills everywhere visible. Some of these are built of stone, others of brick, and still others of wood. Many of them are thatched. Now my idea would be for the boys—Penelope's brothers, I mean—to form a tableau in which they would build windmills. The windmills could be cut out of card-board and pasted together. They could be painted to represent stone or brick. Ordinary straw could be used for thatching, and two or more of the boys might be putting the straw on. These windmills should be stood back of that large screen at the north end of the parlor before the children arrive."
"Then you wouldn't use a curtain?"
"No; we could arrange all the tableaux back of the screen, and so save a great deal of annoyance."
"How many tableaux do you think would be nice?"
"Three or four." And Cousin Blanche thoughtfully continued: "I would show only those that are thoroughly indicative of our Holland Dutch ancestors." And Blanche scrutinized Mrs. Thayer's face while she concluded, "Entertainment is always better when it is instructive."
"But I'm afraid"—and Mrs. Thayer acted fearful while she explained—"that the tableaux would be a terrible trouble."
"On the contrary, nothing could be easier;" and with a good-natured smile rippling over her face, Blanche continued, "Why not let me help you?"
"Help me? I expected you would. Why, Blanche!" and the forlorn tone of Mrs. Thayer's voice decided matters.
"I am thinking"—and Cousin Blanche's face was very bright, showing that her thought was satisfactory—"that it would be a good idea to show the tulip craze. This tableau would require girls and boys. Penelope could be one of the girls, and Fannie and Julia Mobray the others."
"They are quite getatable."
"That was my reason in selecting them. Living across the street as they do, they could easily run over for rehearsals."
"I did not know that the Hollanders were interested in tulips especially," Mrs. Thayer responded, slowly, and lifting her eyes so that they met the astonished ones of Cousin Blanche.
"Why," and without waiting for an explanation Cousin Blanche continued, "you've forgotten about it. The Hollanders spent immense sums of money in ornamenting their gardens with tulips; every new variety of the flower was sought for. They were produced in various shapes and unexpected colors. Indeed, a new color meant a fortune."
"Oh!" and Mrs. Thayer seemed greatly surprised. "But how would you show it?"
"I would group the children so that they looked pretty. They could wear green clothes to represent stalk and leaves, and have large colored-paper petals fastened to their waists, and with wire shaped and bent upward they would look like veritable tulips. Then a few others could, in a previous tableau, show the act of planting tulip bulbs and watering some growing tulips."
"Suppose that you cannot get the tulips?"
"I can get tulips of some sort," was the assured response. "If I cannot buy natural ones, I can make paper ones."
Mrs. Thayer looked pleased, and then a pink flush suffused her face, while she replied, "I cannot frighten you, can I?"
"Not this time. Indeed, no one can afford to quietly accept things when arranging entertainments;" and Blanche rose and paced several times up and down the room. While she walked she added: "As for the other tableaux, one should certainly show a group of girls knitting and crocheting, and others painting pottery, tiles, etc. And then there should be a representation of storks and their nests."
"How would you get a stork?"
"Borrow one from a museum, if there is no other way. But I have friends who have fine specimens of storks, and stork nests also."
"Well, but what about the rest of the party?" And with a swift glance at her watch, Mrs. Thayer added, "I have an engagement."
"Delft games should be played. For example: