Chatterbox, 1905 - Part 57
Library

Part 57

One morning, during the siege of Hamburg, a weary merchant was slowly returning to his house. With other business men, he had been aiding in the defence of the walls. So severe had been the fighting that he had not taken off his clothes for a week.

He reflected bitterly that all his labour was in vain, for by the following day famine would have compelled a surrender. Pa.s.sing through his garden, he found himself admiring his cherry-trees, which were loaded with fruit. The mere sight was refreshing, and a thought occurred to the merchant. He was aware that the enemy were suffering from thirst.

How glad they would be of that juicy fruit! Could he not by its means purchase safety for his city?

There was no time to lose, and he speedily made up his mind. He collected three hundred small children belonging to the city, had them all dressed in white, and loaded them with cherry-branches from his orchard. Then the gates were opened, and they were sent forth in the direction of the enemy.

When the commander of the besieging force saw the white-robed procession pa.s.sing through the gates he suspected some trick, and prepared for battle; but when the children came nearer, and he saw how pale and thin they were from want of food, tears filled his eyes, for he thought of his own little ones at home.

As the thirsty--and, in some cases, wounded--soldiers received the juicy fruit from the children's hands, a cheer arose from the camp. Love and pity had conquered. The little ones returned accompanied by waggons of food for the famished citizens, and an honourable treaty of peace was signed the next day.

For many years, the anniversary of the day on which this deed was done was kept as a holiday, its name being 'The Feast of Cherries.' The streets were thronged with children, each one carrying a cherry-branch.

Then they ate the cherries themselves, in honour of their brave little forerunners, the saviours of their city of Hamburg.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "He loaded the children with cherry branches."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "One pig went squealing down the road."]

TOO CLEVER.

Jim Brown stood at the farmer's door-- 'I want a job,' he said.

'Well, lad, have you done aught before?'

But Jim just shook his head; An idler boy he'd always been Than any in the village seen.

'Well, tell me now, what can you do?'

'Oh, anything,' said Jim.

'Oh, anything!' said Farmer Grey; Then looking hard at him-- 'Well, drive these pigs to neighbour Pratt-- 'Tis time they went, they're prime and fat.'

Jim drove the pigs from out the yard, But, ere they'd gone a mile, One pig went squealing down the road, And one towards a stile; And while Jim pondered what to do, The naughty pig just wriggled through.

Just then the farmer chanced to pa.s.s; 'Hullo!' said he, 'what's wrong?'

And when he saw Jim's downcast face, He laughed both loud and long.

'My lad,' said he, with knowing wink, 'You're not as clever as you think.'

C. D. BOGLE.

TORN TO RAGS.

The curious and interesting 'little ways' of Ferdinand de Lesseps, the designer of the Suez Ca.n.a.l, gained for him the favour of many prominent Egyptian officials, when he was in Egypt, and he was often able to get over a difficulty and do a kind act by unusual means. Among his duties was the inspection of a large number of convicts in the Egyptian galleys. Some of these were political prisoners--rather more than four hundred unfortunate Syrians, who had been brought from Syria by Ibrahim Pasha, son of Mehemet Ali, the famous Viceroy.

The Syrian prisoners begged the French count to help them to freedom. De Lesseps had no real power to do this, but he had a kind heart, and did his best to procure the release of the prisoners.

When, however, he mentioned the subject to Mehemet Ali, the Viceroy shook his head.

'These men,' said he, 'are my son's captives, and in such a matter I could no more handle him than I could handle the lightning.'

De Lesseps would not be put off. Mehemet, impressed by his persistence, and wishing to stand well with the French, at last told De Lesseps that he would manage to get five prisoners released quietly every week, until all were free.

He kept his word, and this piecemeal business of freeing the prisoners began. But very soon De Lesseps' house was besieged by the relatives and friends of the Syrians still imprisoned, all begging him to use his influence to get their own special friends included in the next batch to be set free.

The anxious folk thronged round the Frenchman, and in their eagerness plucked at his sleeve and tore it. He resolved to turn this fact to account with the Viceroy. He had an old suit of clothes torn into actual tatters, and wore it upon his next occasion of seeing Mehemet.

Mehemet was naturally greatly astonished at his friend's strange appearance.

'What on earth has happened to you?' said the Viceroy.

'In arranging that five of those prisoners should be freed each week,'

replied De Lesseps, 'you have made me the prey of the relatives of those who yet remain in the galleys. The number of the Syrians was four hundred and twelve; therefore your Highness can easily reckon up and tell how long I must go in rags.'

The Viceroy was highly amused with the serious and pitiful look which De Lesseps put on as he said these words. After indulging in a hearty laugh, he gave orders for the immediate release of the remaining prisoners. Thus, by his ready wit, De Lesseps persuaded the Viceroy into an action which he would never have done if asked plainly at first.

E. D.

WHITE NEGROES.

Have you ever heard of a white negro? Perhaps you will laugh at me for asking the question, but there really are such people in the world, and travellers and missionaries have met with them. I do not mean to say that there are whole tribes of white negroes in some far-off countries, which are not often visited by travellers, but that, scattered among all or nearly all the black races, there are individuals who are white.

These persons are like the rest of the tribe in size and shape; they have the same features, and the same kind of hair; but their complexion is white, their hair is either quite white or straw-coloured, and their eyes are lighter in shade than those of their companions.

Dr. Livingstone met with several of these white natives in some parts of Africa, while in other parts he never saw any. One of these strange people was a young boy, a very fine, intelligent fellow, of whom his mother was very fond. His features were exactly like those of his parents, who were both black. His woolly hair was yellow, and the pupils of his eyes were pink. His father looked upon him with horror, very much as an English father might be expected to look upon a black child, and he treated him always as an outcast. The great traveller knew others, both men and women, who were quite white. Their skins were always very sensitive, and the heat of the sun blistered them very much. One of the white women, perhaps through a sort of shame for her colour, was most anxious for Dr. Livingstone to make her black, which was more than he could do.

A missionary who had spent many years in Fiji had met with five Fijians who were white. Three of these were grown-up persons, and one was quite a little baby, being only two or three weeks old. This baby's skin was much whiter than that of an English baby, although both its parents were young and healthy, and as black as any Fijian could be. The grown-up persons were as white as, if not whiter than, a weather-beaten Englishman, and their hair was flaxen. Their skin was very smooth, and looked like a kind of horn, and it was cracked and blistered with the heat of the sun, like the skin of the white negroes whom Livingstone saw. The white Fijians had pale blue or sandy-coloured eyes, which could not bear the heat of the sun, and the poor men went about with their eyes half closed. Similar men with white skins and white hair are found among the other black races which inhabit the islands of the South Sea.

Among the red men of North America there are a few who have no colour in their skins, and there are a great many who have light-coloured hair. In one tribe a traveller found a great many men and women who had had grey or white hair all their lives. He thought this was a very strange thing, but had he known as much about other countries, he would have been aware that this peculiarity is found among the dark races in nearly every part of the world. White men are found not only in the countries already named, but also in India, where they are looked upon with some amount of dislike by their fellow-countrymen. In some parts of Africa, on the other hand, these white men are regarded as magicians, and held in honour by the rest of the tribe.

Strange to say, not only are there negroes who are white, but there are some who are patched or spotted black and white all over. I have a picture of such a negro before me as I write. He is a native of Loango, on the west coast of Africa. From head to foot he is spotted in black and white patches like a piebald horse, though in all other respects he seems a large, well-made, healthy man. I have also before me the picture of a spotted negro boy; who was exhibited as a curiosity in one of the London fairs nearly a hundred years ago.

When a negro is white or piebald, it is because he has been born without the black colouring matter which other negroes have in their skin. He suffers from a defect, and deserves to be pitied. The black colour of a negro's skin enables him to bear the heat of a fierce sun, and, as we have seen, the negro whose skin is white suffers much pain and inconvenience. A similar colouring matter in the eyes helps to shield them from the bright glare of the sunlight, and the poor man whose eyes are without this protection is compelled to go about with half-closed eyes.

A BOY'S HEROISM.

A True Anecdote.

A couple of boys were once climbing about some disused scaffolding in a lonely place, when a beam on which they were standing gave way under their feet. Both fell, the elder a little before the younger. But just in time the elder managed to clutch another beam and hold fast to it. By a providential coincidence, his brother, catching wildly at anything within his reach, seized his legs, and the two hung suspended thus, with all the weight on the elder boy's arms. Before long, the strain became too great, and he called out to the other that they were lost, for he could hold on no longer. No one was near, and there was little hope that their cries would attract attention.