This pretty purse will make a nice gift for some of our young people. It is worked with red saddler"s silk in open-work double crochet, and consists of an oblong bag pointed toward the bottom, and furnished with small slits at the top on both sides. The purse is closed with two metal bars, finished with k.n.o.bs, and joined with a chain and ring. An ordinary steel slide may be subst.i.tuted. A metal acorn finishes the bottom. Make a foundation of 96 st. (st.i.tch), close these in a ring with 1 sl. (slip st.i.tch), and crochet the 1st round.--4 ch. (chain st.i.tch), the first 3 of which count as first dc. (double crochet), then always alternately 1 dc. on the second following st., 1 ch.; finally, 1 sl. on the third of the first 3 ch. in this round. 2d round.--1 sl. on the next st., 4 ch., the first 3 of which count as first dc., then always alternately 1 dc.
on the next ch. in the preceding round, 1 ch.; finally, 1 sl. on the third of the first 3 ch. in this round. Next work 24 rounds like the preceding round, but in the last 10 rounds narrow at intervals, and instead of 1 dc. pa.s.s over 2 dc., so that in the last round only 8 dc.
are worked. Run the working thread through the st. of the last round, draw it tight, and set on the acorn. Then finish the purse in two parts, working on the upper side of the foundation st. 3 rounds in the preceding design, going back and forth, and in the last round fasten in the bars as follows: * 7 ch., pa.s.s over 2 dc., lay on the bar from the wrong side, carry the ch. across the bar to the wrong side, 1 sc. on the next ch., 7 ch., carry these over the bar to the front, pa.s.s over 2 dc., 1 sc. on the next ch., and repeat from *.
"ONT DAYk.u.mBOA."
In the parlor of a dear old-fashioned country house two elderly ladies are seated, one knitting, the other reading the report of yesterday"s sermons, giving bits aloud now and then; on the carpet a little boy about three years of age is sprawling, apparently trying to swim on dry land.
The lady knitting is Miss Helena Oakstead, the lady reading is Miss Judith Oakstead, and the small boy is Master Ralph Oakstead, the eldest son of the youngest brother. If you go to the other side of the hall you will find the eldest brother (Master Ralph"s uncle) in his study, writing an essay full of great big words. He is Professor Oakstead.
Master Ralph is spending the day with his relatives, and has gotten on with them very well so far, as his sister Daisy, two years his senior, whom he rules right royally, has acted as court interpreter; but she has just departed for a drive with a neighboring friend, and the aunts are left in sole charge of his Highness.
He is very gracious at first, looks over a picture-book with Miss Helena, and makes eager but unintelligible remarks respecting the "bow-wows" and "moos," to which Miss Helena answers, "Um, dear," as being the safest thing to say. But now he is silent, and has been so for at least ten minutes.
"How good Ralph is!" half whispers Miss Helena.
His Highness p.r.i.c.ks up his ears.
"Yes, dear little fellow; and he has no one to play with, either."
His Highness sits up--he speaks.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "ONT DAYk.u.mBOA."]
"Ont dayk.u.mboa."
"What is it, dear?" says Miss Judith.
"Ont dayk.u.mboa," repeats Master Ralph.
"What does the child mean?" asks Miss Helena.
"I don"t know. What do you want, Ralphie?"
Ralph, with a look of mingled contempt and pity at his stupid relatives, says, slowly but emphatically, "Ont dayk.u.mboa."
"Perhaps he is hungry. I"ll go and get him a piece of cake," says Miss Helena.
The cake is brought, and promptly accepted; but it is evidently not the thing for which his soul longs, for after devouring half the slice he plaintively murmurs, "Ont dayk.u.mboa."
"Well, isn"t that dayk.u.mboa?" says Miss Judith.
Ralph gives her a scornful look as sole answer, and finishes his cake in awful silence. As the last crumb disappears he sighs, "Ont dayk.u.mboa."
"What on earth and under the sun does the child want!" is the combined exclamation of the aunts.
"Perhaps Elijah can help us."
"Oh yes, he knows everything pretty nearly; but he may not like being disturbed now--he"s writing, you know."
"Well, perhaps Victoria might be able to tell; she used to take care of children."
So Victoria is summoned from the kitchen. She is a tall majestic negress, who looks as if she had just stepped out of history. Her speech does not quite come up to her stately mien.
"Why, what"s de matter wi" de chile?" she queries.
All of Ralph"s reply is lost except "dayk.u.mboa."
"Well, come "long wi" Victoria--she git you k.u.mboa. What, ain"t gwine to come? Oh laws! dat ain"t bein" good bo"."
For Master Ralph has seated himself flatly on a footstool, and with his back against the wall, refuses in the dumbest of dumb-show to be entrapped into "gwine" anywhere.
Miss Helena suggests that they bring to him whatever they find that is at all likely to be "dayk.u.mboa."
So at the feet of his Royal Highness is laid such a queer collection of articles as never before appeared in that trim sitting-room: a _Child"s History of England_, a bottle of mucilage, a pair of scissors, a coal shovel, a comb and brush, a bunch of flowers, a photograph alb.u.m, a bottle of ink, and goodness knows what besides. Miss Helena ransacks her brains and her bureau, Miss Judith brings every portable in the room, and Victoria literally squanders the contents of her larder, but all to no purpose, and what is worse, his Highness, becoming alarmed at such unusual behavior, begins to moan "Ont dayk.u.mboa" in a way that draws tears to the eyes of his aunts.
"Judith," exclaims Miss Helena, "the case is getting desperate. We _must_ send for Elijah, no matter if he does get angry.--Victoria, just go to the study, and tell the Professor that he _must_ come here for a few minutes. Do you hear--_must_!"
Victoria, looking as scared as only a solemn-natured darky _can_ look, departs, and returns speedily with the Professor.
"Is anything the matter with Alcibiades?" he asks. Alcibiades, be it known, is what the Professor always calls Ralph--"for short," he says.
"He is in a most peculiar condition, Elijah--persists in calling for _dayk.u.mboa_, and we can not understand what he means."
"What is it that you want, my boy?" inquires the Professor, bending his dignified back and knees, so as to bring his gray head on a level with Ralph"s "curly pow."
Ralph turns to him with an expression of relief, as much as to say, "Well, here"s a reasonable being at last," and explains, "Ont dayk.u.mboa."
"And what is dayk.u.mboa?" says the Professor.
"Dayk.u.mboa," repeats Ralph, with a lingering hope that perhaps he is going to get some satisfaction; but this creature is just as dull as the rest, and his Highness, with great want of dignity, begins to whimper.
"The child seems to be in pain," says the Professor, standing up, and regarding his nephew with concern. "Perhaps he has hurt himself."
"I never thought of that," cries Miss Judith.--"Have you hurt yourself, Ralphie?"
"Ont dayk.u.mboa," is the only response.
"Looks like he gwine to hab a fit. I gib de chile a good warm bath, if I"s you," suggests Victoria.
Miss Helena eagerly catches at the straw.
"That"s a good idea, Victoria. Just fill the little foot-tub with hot water, and bring it right in here."