Southern States -- Juvenile fiction; Southern States -- Juvenile literature
Now, while 20,000 second-feet could be spared from such a tremendous
river, that amount of water makes a considerable stream of itself. Many
very celebrated rivers never had so much water in their lives. Hence
there was great amazement when the discrepancy was discovered. But of
late years Dakota farmers away to the south and east of those points on
the Missouri, sinking artesian wells, found immense volumes of water
where the geologists said there would n't be any. So it is believed that
the farmers have tapped the water leaking from that big hole in the
Missouri River away up in Montana; and from these wells they irrigate
large tracts of land, and, naturally, they don't want the river-bed
mended. Fancy what a blessing it is, when the weather is dry, to have a
river boiling out of your well, ready to flow where you want it over the
wheat-fields! For of all manner of work that a river can be put to,
irrigation is, I think, the most useful. But isn't that a queer way for
the Missouri to wander about underneath the ground?
THE WATERMELON STOCKINGS
BY ALICE CALDWELL HEGAN
(Author of "Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch")
"Jes' look at dat ornery little nigger!" exclaimed Aunt Melvy, as she
deposited a basket of clothes on the cabin floor. "I lef her to clean
up, an' to put de 'taters on to bile, an' to shoo de flies offen de
twinses, an' I wisht you 'd look at her!"
Nell Tracy, who had come down with Aunt Melvy from the big house on the
hill, viewed the culprit ruefully. 'Mazin' Grace was Aunt Melvy's eighth
daughter, and had been named for her mother's favorite hymn, which began
"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound." She was very short and very fat,
and her kinky hair was plaited into ten tight pigtails, each of which
was bound with a piece of leather shoe-string. At present she sat with
her back propped against the door, her mouth wide open, and slept
peacefully while the flood of her mother's wrath passed over her.
[Illustration: "'MAZIN' GRACE SLEPT PEACEFULLY."]
"Oh, but, Aunt Melvy, won't you please let her come?" begged Nell,
throwing off her sun-bonnet and letting down a tangle of yellow curls.
"I have n't got anybody to play with me. Mother drove to town with
father, and she said I was to get 'Mazin' Grace to stay with me."
"Why, I'se gwine to let her come, honey," said Aunt Melvy, "co'se I is.
I wouldn't mek you cry fer nothin'! Only, I'se gwine to whup her fust.
She ain't 'sponsible on her word, dat's what's de matter wid her. She
done 'low to me she would n't wink her eyeball while I was gone. What
you think I ketch her doin' one time?" Aunt Melvy's voice sank to a
whisper. "She sewed, on a Sunday! She knowed as well as me dat w'en she
gits to heben she'll hab to pick out ebery one ob dem stitches wid her
nose."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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