MLADINSKI UST
Mesečnik za Slovensko Mladin r ^j.'‘ meriki Monthly Magazine For Young Sloven. ^ 'hica
LETO-VOL. II.
CHICAGO, ILL., FEBRUARY 1923
°r
3J3/3JSIBEI3JSJSI3IHI3J3I Izdaja
SLOVENSKA NARODNA PODPORNA JEDNOTA
Izhaja mesečno. — Naročnina:
Za Za
£lane nečlane
Zdr. Države za celo leto.30c	60c
" za pol leta.......]6c	30c
Druge države: za leto....... 75c
“JUVENILE"
Published Monthly by the
SLOVENIAN NATIONAL BENEFIT SOCIETY
Subscription Rates:
Non-
Members Mem.
United Stages per year...30c	60c
half year......15c	30c
Other Countries per year 	75c
Entered as second-class matter August 2, 1922, at the office at Chicago, Illinois, under the Act of August 24, 1912. ceptance for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in tion 1103, Act of October 3, 1917, authorized August 2, 1922.
/
.rVx) (
j) J&REDNIšW)	LAVNIŠTVO:
/— )	jcoFVj
^2657 s6. LAWNDALE AVENU —CHICAGO, ILL.
E,
T
VSEBINA—CONTENTS
stran—page
Vse prav! Andrej Rape.................................36
Zima. Borisov.........................................36
Uspavanka. Albin Čebular..............................36
Sam. Andrej Rape......................................37
Kurenti. F. Palnak ...................................40
Ah, to je šlo! Ivo Trošt..............................42
Zanimivosti iz kraljestva števil. (Konec.)............14
Elektrika. (Nadaljevanje.) ...........................45
Naš kotiček...........................................46
*	* *
Remember Rover. E Iti s Parker Butler....................... 53
Abraham Lincoln. Song....................................... 53
What Charles Darwin Saw..................................... 57
The Earth a Sun. M. E. Marcg................................ 61
Why Alexander Wept.......................................... 61
“Juvenile” Puzzlers, Letter-Box, Etc........................ 62
Practical Slovenian Grammar................................. 64
Slike—Pictures:
Ali ga poznaš?................................35
Na viharnem morju.............................37
Industrija....................................41
Ah, to je šlo! ...............................43
Alkimist......................................51
*	* *
Abraham Lincoln.................................... 52
Miner Crouching.................................... 55
The Foundryman..................................... 59
Winter Sport ...................................... 63
. \
MLADINSKI LIST
MESEČNIK ZA SLOVENSKO MLADINO V AMERIKI
LETO II.	CHICAGO,	ILL.,	FEBRUAR	1923	ŠTEV.	2.
» -v  -...............................   ..	..
Ali ga poznaš?
(Jackie Coogan, v glavni ulogi filmske igre “Oliver Twist”, je ljubljenec obiskovalcev kinogledališč.)
Andrej Rape:
Vse
prav
I
“Vse prav!” glasi se iz višav, kot prišlo bi z neba: mornar z višine jambora ta kliče vsem pozdrav.
V kabini stoji kapetan računi smer, ko gasne dan; k počitku lega jjotnik vsak, saj sredi morskih je planjav: vse prav.
Kot ladji kapetan, mornar, razum in vest sta tvoj brodar.
V njih varstvu človek sladko spi, kadar se njih pozdrav glasi:
“Vse prav!”
Borisov :
Zima.
Stara teta, zima -hi, hi, hi! — s hitrimi koraki proč beži.
Gorki južni vetri jo pode iz dežele naše prelep'e.
S hitrimi koraki proč beži, mi se ji smejimo: hi, hi, hi!
Vrani, črni vrani sred gozdov noč in dan podijo jo domov.
Vrani zakričijo: krah, krah, krah . . Zimo izpreleta v gozdu strah.
Albin Čebular:
Reja, rij a, raja, plaho sen prihaja, skozi okenca, iz gaja.
Ziblje se po slaku, po razstlanem maku na zibelki izrezljani.
Uspavanka.
Z nežnimi peresci pade lahno, varno, na utrujeni očesci.
Rij a, reja, raja, dete mirno aja, polumrak ga tih obdaja.
Andrej Rape:
Sam.
i.
DIJO, Ana! Ne jokaj in ne žalosti se! Danes ne grem prvič z doma. Upam, da tudi zadnjič ne. Seveda! Pot je dalj ša kot navadno, tudi dalje izostanem kot sicer, a tako mora biti. Ne skrbi kakor običajno, ako le malo zabuči vihar okoli hiše. Ladja je trdna; najboljša jadralka je. Tako sem varen na nji ka-
tilo, in usta so mu nagajivi škrateljčki raztegnili podkvici podobno. Ko mu je oče podal roko in ga poljubil na čelo, takrat pa so pognali ti nepridipravi cele potoke solz iz velikih Vladkovih oči in polno globokih vzdihov iz ljubečega srčeca. No, tudi materi so se ulile solze , . .
“Pojdita, pojdita,” je zamrmral oče ter potegnil z roko preko oči, kjer se je tudi ne-
Na viharnem morju.
kor na suhem. Ne skrbi tedaj! Adijo! Na otroka pazi! -— Vladko, priden bodi! Mamo slušaj; v šoli se pridno uči, da čujem samo hvalo o tebi, ko se vrnem.”
Vladkov oče je bil trgovec. Poslavljal se Je danes od svojcev. Odriniti je hotel na daljno pot.
Ločitev je bila pač vsem trem težka. Mati Je imela solzne oči. Vladku, ki se mu je sicer vedno skrivala v jamicah na licu prava y°jska nagajivih, smehljajočih se škratelj-^lcov, je ta vesela vojska iz jamic izginila. Ondi v kotičkih pri očeh in na metlastih trepalnicah pa se je tako čudno mokro sve-
kaj posvetilo. “Da bi še človeka samega kmalu spravila v solze! Pojdita, pojdita!” In odštel je hitrih korakov.
Za njim je zrla četvorica solznih oči, za njim je hrepenelo dvoje ljubečih, močno utripajočih src.
Izginil jima je izpred oči. Mati in sin sta ostala sama.
II.
Na krovu ladje je stal zamišljen Vladkov oče — sam. Na obrežje je zrl v prerivajočo se množico ljudi.
Koliko prerivanja, vpitja, ihtenja, stiskanja rok! Koliko solznih oči, kakor jih je
imel on ob slovesu! Še en gorak pogled v smer, kjer je ostavil ženo in otroka, še en tih pozdrav — in zazibala se je ladja. Pred njim so se razprostrle brezdanje vode. Nikjer ni bilo več obrežja. Samo voda, morje, veličastno se zibajoče morje!
Kakor brzokrila ptica beži ladja dalje in dalje; kakor ona naprej, tako beže njegove misli nazaj k ženi, k otroku. Med njima in njim pa je vedno večja razdalja — globoko morje s svojimi skrivnostmi . . .
Med šumenje valov, ki jih reže ladja, se meša šum potnikov, ki radovedno zro čez neizmerno morsko ravan tu sede, tam stoje, se meša šum strojev, ki sopihajo iz širokih prsi, šum lopat, ki mečejo premog v peči, premog pomešan z znojem napol nagih kurjačev, ki v osrčju ladje služijo svoj težki vsakdanji kruh.
*	* *
“Potniki s krova, nevihta bo!” ta klic je drugi dan predramil našega znanca iz zamišljenosti. Pogledal je na morje. Kako valovanje! Tu odpira široko žrelo — mrzli grob, pa se zopet zagrne in pljuskne kot gora visoko.
“Zopet le grob,” je pomislil. “Kaj se še niso odpirali dovolj brezštevilni grobovi baš v dneh grozovite svetovne vojne! Kaj je zato pogumno gledal smrti v obraz v boju, sc izpostavljal kroglam, da koristi zatirani domovini, da služi njenemu osvoboje-nju, da sedaj, ko je videl tako težko pričakovano svobodo domovine, da sedaj, ko se je izpolnilo tisočletno hrepenenje njegovega naroda po ujedinjenju, da sedaj brez odpora in moči pade v hladni grob morja?” Povsod vpitje, rjovenje viharja, bučanje valov! Iluje in huje! Komaj so čuti v tem divjem šumu odločni, rezki ukazi kapitanovi. “K sesalkam!” zadoni z,opet potnikom na uho s poveljniškega mostu. Nevihta raste, vije huje in huje. Ladja pleše po grebenastih, razpenjenih valovih kot lupina. Povelja, jok in stok! . . .
“Čolne v vodo!” doni rezek ukaz. Vse skače in se preriva z mrzličnim trepetom. “Umiramo!”
Vladkov oče stoji nem in bled, zroč iz čolna v to divjanje besnega morja. Ladjo gleda, ki se počasi pogreza v široko žrelo razljučenega morja niže in niže. Ni ga
strah smrti. Žal mu je le žene in otroka, težko mu je umreti sedaj, ko je gledal uje-dinjcnje ljubljenega naroda, ko je okusil svobodo v svobodni domovini.
“Zbogom, ljubi otrok, draga žena, pozdravljena ljuba moja domovina!”
Vihar divja, divja! . . .
III.
Minevali so tedni, izginjali meseci. Vladku in materi je umiral up, da še kdaj vidita dragega očeta. Časopisi so že bili prinesli žalostno vest, da se je ona ladja, ki je bil na njej tudi Vladkov oče, potopila. Moštvo in potniki so se sicer rešili v čolne, a
o	njih ni ne duha ne sluha. “Najbrž so se tudi v čolnih vsi ponesrečili.” To je bil konec v vseh časopisih. Nič upa ni ostalo Vladku in mamici . . .
Očeta izgubiti, očeta ki nas je ljubil, ki je skrbel za nas ponoči in podnevi, ki nas je branil v vseh nezgodah življenja to je hudo.
Materine oči so bile malokedaj suhe. Po ure in ure je strmela predse, gledala v svojega ljubega otroka, a zalile so jo vedno solze ob pogledu nanj, zakaj kakor se je zazrla v njegovo prej tako sveže, vedno veselo lice, ki je bilo sedaj tako otožnohrepe-neče, pa jo je neka zla roba zagrabila v grlu, v srcu ji je postalo tako neizrazno hudo, da si ni mogla kaj, da ne bi jokala. Utripala je takrat z vekami, hoteč zatreti solze in potisniti jih nazaj, globoko dol v srce, da bi vsaj sama trpela to silno bol in je ne kazala otroku, ki je takoj zajokal, kadar je ugledal solzno njeno oko. Toda pomagati si ni mogla. Objemala je svojega otroka in često se je morala zasolziti, Vladko pa jo je posnemal.
“Oče, pridi nazaj, da mi mamica žalosti ne umrje, da me ne umori hrepenenje po tebi,” tako je klicalo v Vladkovem srcu ob takih trenutkih.
Pa so prišli dolgi, pusti večeri, in sedela sta Vladko in mati pri mizi. In je zapihala burja okolo oken, zgenila se je mati in plašno je pogledal Vladko. Mati je šepetala: “Vihar, vihar, zakaj si vzel in pogubil očeta otroku in ženi moža? In sedaj se nama še rogaš, divjaje okolo hiše! Sedaj tožeč,
sedaj udarjajoč po šipah pripoveduješ čudne, strašne dogodke.”
Premagala je večkrat z nadčloveško močjo svojo veliko bolest, zatrla solze, spravila sina v postelj ter sama legla k počitku, da pozabi, pozabi ... Pozabi? Da! Toda večkrat jo je ponesel sen v čudne kraje. Morje je divjalo in se penilo okolo nje. Vihar je rjul in potapljal ladjo, ki je bil na nji Vladkov oče. Klice njegove je čula: “Pozdravljen Vladko, pozdravljena ženka!” Kaj čuda. da ji je to duševno trpljenje izsesavalo tudi telesne moči! Z grozo je mislila na čas, ko bi morala še ona ostavili edino dete samo, tako samo na svetu . . .
IV.
Počitnice so bile. Vladko je bil v šoli dobil znano “Pripovedko o vetru” v šolarski knjižnici. Sam je bil danes doma. Mati je odišla iz hiše po opravkih. Zamišljen je sedel h knjigi in bral. Zatopil se je bil v či-tanje tako, da je pozabil na vse okolo sebe. Tam daleč v čudno lepi deželi je bil s svojimi mislimi, tam, kjer ima veter svoj grad. Nagajivi škrateljčki, so pričeli plesati oko-1° njega. Pa ga je eden pobožal z nežno ročico po očeh in zopet drugi. Neznansko prijetno mu je bilo. V obraz je pordel, oči so jele gledati sanjavo. Veke so se počasi zaprle. Škrateljčki so ga odvedli v deželo sanj. V velikem, svetlem gradu je. Pod gradom se širi silno morje. Pa čimdalje gleda, tem večje, tem silnejše je morje. Srčece mu trepeče. V brezdanje globočine Pohiti njegov duh ter objema morja brezkončne meje. Sinjo plan morja gleda, ki se spaja na obzorju z nebom v dolg, neminljiv objem. Ladje zagleda na morju, ki bite dalje po valovih pozlačenih od jutranje zarje, dalje po neizmernem hrbtu morja. * a nastane noč. Tiha in zvezdnata visi nad skrivnostnim morjem ter se smej a. Vladku
sc topi srce ob tem pogledu. Škrateljčki ga božajo, mehko, nežno . . .
★	* *
Izginilo je morje. V sobi doma je Vladko sam, sam . . . Očeta nima, mamice ni. Težka bolest mu sede v srce, bolest, ki kljuje kot kragulj! Pa potrka nekdo na okno. Veter je, veter na svojih velikih krilili, ki plove z njimi kot ptič povsod; odnaša vse vesti, vsak klic obupa in ga z divjo hitrostjo nese dalje.
“Kaj delaš, Vladko?” ječi žalostno veter. “Bil sem zraven, daleč tam na morju sem bil. O, jaz vse vidim, vse vem! Ponosna ladja se je zibala po silnem hrbtu morja. Na nji je stal tvoj oče. A morje je skrivnostno, morje je strašno. Zvezalo se je z mano. Hi-hi-hi! ... In zagugal sem njegove valove in odprl njih brezdna. Pa je plesala ladja po njih, prej ponosna, sedaj kot orehova lupina. In igrala sva se z njo, jaz in morje, moj zaveznik. Čuješ li, Vladko?! Takole so klicali ljudje na ladji: “Na pomoč, umiramo!” In strele sem čul na ladji, ki so naznanjali silo. In čul sem glas tvojega očeta. Klical je: “Pozdravljen, Vladko!” Hahahalia! . . . Vladko, jaz vem vse, vidim vse! In grozen sem in šaljiv sem. Eno mi je: raztrgati na silnem morju ladji jadra, odnesti na suhem klobuk kakemu gizdalinčku, upihniti svečo in zanetiti iz majhne iskre silen požar. Čuješ li moje glasove, Vladko? Čudni so, kaj ne, različni so, ker je v njih toliko izpremen! . . . Jaz vidim vse! In videl sem čoln, in v njem je bil tvoj oče. Vladko, oče ni umrl, ni ga požrl mrzli grob, rešil se je, vrne se . . .”
Vrata se odpro. Škrateljčki odbeže od Vladka. Zbudi se. Pred njim stoji mati z očetom, ki se je vrnil.
Zunaj pa piha veter in bobna z dolgimi prsti po steklu pa raznaša Vladkovo srečo
—	da ni več sam —- po širokem svetu.
Kurenti.*)
Spisal F. Palnak.
Martinkova mati se je hudovala: “Oj, li presneti pust!” Pa mislite, da se je jezila zaman? Ravno je pripravila testo za krape, kar se pripodi cela procesija kurentov, ki puste vrata odprta.
Zdaj pa pomislite: testo za krape, pa odprta vrata — saj ne more vzhajati testo. Posebno pa še tako testo, ki je tako natančno. Najmanjša sapica, pa se testo prehladi—in namesto slastnih pustnih krapov imate pražene cmoke. Tako natančno je to testo, le povprašajte doma o tem svoje mamice !
Zato se je tudi Martinkova mamica (ako jezila: “Oj, ti presneti pust, ti!”
Pa to še ni bilo vse. Okolo matere se je sukal samosrajčnik Hanzek. Samosrajčnik je bil navadno. Danes pa mu je mati oblekla lepo obleko, ker je bil tak praznik, da je delala celo krape. Če je praznično nekaj, mora biti vse, če ne, je vse preveč polovičarsko. In Ilanzek je bil v svoji lepi obleki okolo matere, ji pomagal, nagajal in ji bil na poti. Ko pa pridejo kurenli . . .
Aha! Tako! Debelo me gledate in ne veste, kaj so kurenti!
Kurenti, kurenti — hm, kako bi povedal? Če bi vprašali'Martinkovo maler, bi vam rekla, da so kurenti — nebodigatreba. Če bi vprašali Manzka, bi rekel, da so kurenti
—	kurenti; če bi kaj več zvedeli od njega, bi bilo to, da bi jih imenoval pošasti . . .
No, pa vse to ni res!
Kurenti so kurenti, ali da vam bolje povem, to so ljudje, ki so se napravili za kurente. — Zdaj torej veste, kdo in kaj so kurenti? Še ne?
A tako! Pozabil sem povedati, kakšni so kurenti! Tudi to je težko povedati. Mali Martinkova bi vam rekla, da so taki, da nikdar tega; Hanzek bi celo trdil, da so grdi; kdo drugi bi zopet pravil, da to vse ni
') NTa Štajerskem na Dravskem polju, z.lasli v Ptujski okolici, je navada, da se opravljajo na pustni dan v kurente. Ta običaj je še ostanek starega slovanskega bogočastja na čast bogu Kurentu, seveda v drugih oblikah.
res, da niso tako grdi, da niso taki, ampak taki, mi pa bi nazadnje le ne vedeli, pri čem smo. To je težko povedati, res. Najbolje bi bilo, če bi vam poslal kar njihovo fotografijo — pa šmeiita, mislite, da sem mogel katerega dobiti, da bi ga fotografiral!? Ne, pa ne, za nič.
Kakšni so torej kurenti?
Narobe obrnjen kožuh, visoki črevlji, okrog pasu veriga in na nji kravji zvonci — lo je kurent.
Kaj ne, nič posebnega? Narobe obrnjene kožuhe imajo nekateri narodi poleti, da kožuha ni treba spravljati ali pa tudi, ker nimajo drugih sukenj za leto. Visoke črev-Ije nosijo kmetiški ljudje navadno. Tudi veriga okolo života ni nič novega; to si napravi vsak kmet, ki je prodal vole ali kravo na semnju. Kravji zvonec pa si priveže časih kakšen burkež, da leta vaška deca za njim. — Pa zaradi vsega tega še nobeden ni kurent.
Kaj pa je torej kurent? Nobeden ne ve povedati. Jaz pa sem dobil na srečo starega deda, ki je bil sam dostikrat kurent, pa mi je vse po malem razložil, v čem tiči ta kurentova posebnost, tudi pokazal mi jo je. Sapa turška, kaj si devljejo kurenti na glavo! Saj sem tudi že videl kakšno maškaro, lepo in grdo, ampak tega še nikdar! Kar ima kurent na glavi, je najbolj podobno visoki kapi, ki ima na vrhu — roge, ali-pa si vržejo tudi kar cel govedji oglavek z rogmi na glavo. Obraza jim ne vidite, pač pa pod rogmi grd, spačen obraz — naslikan seveda — da je res videti strašen.
Zdaj torej veste, kakšen je kurent. Pa poglejmo zopet k Martinkovi materi in k Hanzku.
Da, res, k Hanzku.
Ko pridejo kurenti, se Hanzek ustraši in zleti kar po rakovo nazaj tako, da siromak ni gledal, kam leti . . . Čof! — že je ležal v škafu, kjer sc je ravno hladila jed za pujske . . .
Oj, Hanzek, Hanzek, kaj bo iz tebe in i/. tvoje lepe obleke? Kaj si se tako ustrašil
teh kurentov? Saj vendar veš, da so to le preoblečeni ljudje . . .
No, pa sem zopet pozabil povedati, da so kurenti res strašni. Vsak kurent ima namreč s seboj palico. Sicer tudi to ne bi bilo nič posebnega, ker ima še marsikdo drugi palico, pa vendar zato ni prav nič strašen. Toda, prosim — kurenti imajo na koncu palice — ježevo kožo . . . Aha, mladi prija-
bilo moči že pokriti in dati vzhajati — in Martinkova mati ni v resnici vedela, kaj bi počela. Ali naj pobira Hanzka iz svinjskega škafa ali naj mu osnaži obleko, ga takoi preobleče in da to obleko sušit, da se Han zek ne prehladi? . . . Ali naj gre zapiral vrata ali prej pogrne testo, da se še bolj n,* prehladi in da da vsaj nekaj krapov? . . Oj, pustni krapi — praženi cmoki ste! —
Industrija.
C. Meunier.
Chicago Art Institute.
telji! Ali se vam že tresejo hlačice? Sedaj pač vidite, kako opravičen je bil Hanzkov strah — palica z ježevo kožo na koncu, to ni karsibodi. Če te kurent s to palico poboža samo na rahlo, pa si že tak, kakor če bi te mucika pobožala s svojimi krempelj-čki . . .
Oj, kurenti, kurenti, koliko ste učinili zla . . .
Hanzek je sedel v škafu in namakal svojo obleko, testo še ni pripravljeno, da bi ga
Ali naj se jezi nad temi kurenti, ki so krivi vseh teh nezgod? . . .
Ej, kurenti bi tudi dosti marali za to jezo — neusmiljenci! Mati jih ne more ošteti, ker bi se ji kurenti smejali; še celo rešiti se jih mora. Dati jim mora jajec ali kaj drugega — tudi denarja se ne branijo . . . Mati, dajte, dajte, da se jih prej rešite!
Oj, kurenti, kurenti! Oj, ti presneti pust,
til
Ah, to je šlo! . . .
Spisal Ivo Trošt.
Tildi Božič je minil tisto leto brez snega. Nekoliko dolgčas je bilo po njem, zlasti otrokom, ki so ga gledali samo na vrhovih daljnih gora. Mrzlo je pa bilo, in led je ostal, kamorkoli je kanila kaplja vode. Ob Novem letu se je pa vreme nekam zjužilo, in sneg je padal izpod neba, kakor bi pospravljali obleko vsi berači hkrati na svetu. Tako se je navadno izražal, kadar je hudo snežilo, Beličev ded, ki je bil vnukoma Izidorju in Elici že začetkoma zime napravil lične sanke, da se bosta drsala na njih, ko pokrije zemljo bela odeja. Pri Beličevih so bili imoviti, pa so dali sanke lepo pisano pobarvati — zeleno in rdeče. ( Prostora na njih je bilo pa samo za dva, tako je še pri nepobarvanih saneh preudaril sosedov Ivan, ki so mu bile sicer sani jako všeč. Ivan — Strgulčev so mu rekli — je imel ubožne starše in nikakih sani. Tisti večer potem, ko je vide.l lepe pisane sani pri Beličevih, je sanjal, da ima tudi 011 sani, pa drči za Beličevima po gladkem snegu. A prebudivši se, je zajokal, ker se je zbal trenutka, ko bo gledal samo oddaleč, kako se Beličeva drsata na pisanih saneh. Bil je priden učenec, in Beličeva sta se učila le tedaj najlažje, ko se je učil Strgulčev z njima. Zato je bila pa tudi splošna žalost zaradi premajhnih sani in splošna skrb, kako bi odpravili to neljubo napako.
“Dorče,” se pošali neki dan Izidorjev oče, ‘‘boš pa gledal, dočim se bosta drsala na naših saneh Elica in Ivan?”
“Pa ne bom, očka!” se nakremži sinko, in lice se mu nategne tako na jok, kakor se je nakremžilo nebo tisti večer pred snegom.
“Sam praviš, da si raztresene glave. Ali hočeš z njo padati s sani v sneg, da raztreseš še tisto malo, kar šiloma stlačiš vanjo?”
Temu se Dorče ni upal ugovarjati, a šc man j se je maral odpovedati težko pričako vani zabavi na saneh v snegu. No, konec vseh koncev je bil, da je imel nekega jutra Strgulčev tudi nove sani. Niso bile sicer pisane in tudi barvane niso bile, a dovolj
trdne in kovane z železom kakor Beličeve. Saj so mu jih tudi tam dali napraviti, ker ni bilo drugače miru.
Tako so z združenimi sankami težko pričakovali že davno zaželenega snega, da bi se veseli drsali na njem. Izidorja je skrbela samo glava, ker so ga še vedno dražili doma, da raztrese v sneg še tislo malo znanja, kar ga je doslej s težavo spravil pod streho.
Snežiti je pa začelo starega leta večer, snežilo pozneje vso noč brez ozira, da staro leto nima v novem nobene pravice več, in tudi še novega leta dan, kakor bi ne mislilo prav nič več nehati. A kdo je mogel čakati s pripravljenimi sankami, da se zvedri vreme? Kdor je junak, se ne zmeni za pest snega — med prijatelji. Mraza smo pa že navajeni. “Pojdimo, le pojdimo!” je donelo po hiši takoj popoldne kakor v panju pred rojem. Tudi Strgulčev je silil s sankami v sneg in zatrjal: “Mene ne zebe nič, prav nič, še vroče mi je!” Branili so mu seveda, a kdo naj ubrani tej živi sitnobi? Oblekel se je nekoliko topleje, zavil črevlje v stare krpe in v dve gubi stisnjen odrinil s sankami k sosedu. Tedaj je bil tudi pri Beličevih pravde konec: sitna že doslej kakor muhe v pasjih dneh, se poslej nista dala več krotiti. Elico so skrbno zavili v topel kožušček, in v lični čepici je bila prav krasna igračka. Tudi Izidor se je okomo-tal z rokavicami, gorko suknjico in novo kučmo, ki jo je skrbno potiskal na glavo, češ: ako padem, se vsaj tako ne pretrese glava v kučmi, ki je mehka pot pub. Če se pretrese glava samo nekoliko, ne bo morda škodovalo:	potem	pojde lažje in še več
noter.
Srečno so prigomazili na hribček pod Beličeve hraste. Tam bi se moralo začeti največje veselje, pa je bilo že vsem tako jako vroče. Toda vztrajnost velja! Po zmrzlih tleh je škripal sneg, in burja je novega nasipala v lice. A kdo se boji? Sedli so na sani: Beličeva dva naprej, zadaj Strgulčev. Ah, to je šlo! . . .
“Hi-hi-hi! Hop-hop-hop!” je zadaj vpil Ivan, ki je imel glavo zavezano v materino temno ruto kakor dimnicah. “Hi-hi! Hop-hop!” so drčali v dolino, pa kako?
Prvi je zletel s sani Dorče. Slabo je krmaril z nogami, pa ga je vrglo, ker je šlo tako bliskoma. Elica je ostala sama na sankah, in še je šlo .. . “Hi-hi-hi! Hop-hop!” Strgulčev Ivan se je zadaj komaj lovil na saneh. Lenka je zaradi jadrne vožnje izgubila čepico, in še je šlo v dolino, toda veseli: “Hi-hi! Hop-hop!” se je izpreme-nil v “0 joj, joj-joj! Pomagajte! Očka, mama, ma-ma-a!”
večkratnih klicih vsi trije skupaj in se — smejali.
“Ali se poj demo še ?” vpraša Strgulčev junaško.
Dorče ga pa zavrne: “Danes ne več. Pretresel sem si glavo in ne vem —” <
“Samo mojo čepico še poiščimo v snegu!” poprosi Elica, “potem pa domov, oh, samo domov!”
Ne lahko, vendar so našli čepico napol mokro v snegu in hiteli domov s ponesrečene vožnje, ponavljaje moško in samozadovoljno: “Ah, to je šlo, pa kako!”
Tudi Belič in ded sta se smejala, ko sta
Ah, to je šlo!
V	dolini se je Ivan vendar ustavil — čisto sam. Tako naglo ga je neslo mimo Elice, da ni videl, kdaj so jo njegove sani vrgle v stran, da se je milo jokaje pobirala v snegu. Na ves glas začne klicati:
“Dorče! Elica!”
Kakor odmev iz daljave mu je donelo nekaj slabotnega glasu izpod Beličevih hrastov gori sredi hriba. “Ivan, Ivan!” Potolažen, da so se doklicali, pobere sani in gre iskat ona dva. Bdeči v lica, razkriti, v lase se jim je mešal sneg, mokre roke so si hu-kali, in ušesa so jim gorela, ko so bili po
videla, kako junaško so se držali in kako skrbno zbirali “raztresene ude” po snegu.
Ko se je Dorče nekoliko osušil« je že prišel Strgulčev — tudi preoblečen, a s knjigo pod pazduho. Dorče ga pogleda, in umela sta se: tudi 011 vzame knjigo, da skupno poizkušata, če bo sploh še kaj držala danes tako nemilo pretresena glava in koliko je še ostalo v nji. Elica se jima je smejala.
Ah, to je šlo, in nič Dorčetovega znanja ni ostalo v snegu. Še drugi dan v šoli je šlo gladko, po šoli pa zopet na sani — mlada kri.
44	MLADINSKI	LIST
Zanimivosti iz kraljestva števil.
(Konec.)
In še v višje sfere sega znani primer, če bi se ob Kristusovem rojstvu naložil po 4% eden sam cent. Do leta 1880. bi znašala končna vsota z obrestnimi obresti tega neznatnega bakrenega novca več kot eden kvintiljon dolarjev. Če bi se pa omenjeni novec naložil po 5%, potem bi 1,200 miljo-nov krogel, iz čistega zlata in vsaka v velikosti naše zemlje ne zadostovalo, da bi se dandanašnji izplačala končna obrestno-obrest-na glavnica enega samega centa, naloženega ob času Kristusovega rojstva. In kaj je eden kvintiljon? Mislimo si okrog naše zemlje okrogel in votel kovinast obroč, ki bi imel debelost 63 kilometrov. Kubik tega ogromnega obroča z zunanjim polumerom 6.083 km bi dal 35.000 kvadriljonov kubičnih milimetrov. In ker ima vsak teh kubičnih milimetrov prostora za 1 miljon bacilov, potem bi imelo v praznini tega velikanskega obroča 35.300 kvintiljonov bakterij prostora.
Prišedši do sem bi morda kdo vzkliknil, da je dovolj tega premišljevanja, ker vse preveč obtežuje našo domišljijo. Ali v neskončnem morju števil pravzaprav še nismo prišli tako silno daleč, zato potrpljenja in korajžno naprej.
Poslovimo se od ravnokar obiskanega kvintiljona t. j. števila s številko 1 in 30imi ničlami, ter pohitimo z naglostjo kometa ali zvezde proti sosednim velikanom, ki se zovejo sekstiljon, septiljon, oktiljon, noni-Ijon ter mimo deciljona še daleč in daleč ter obstojmo pri centeziljonu t. j. pri ogromnem številu, ki ima 601 številko. Pri drvenju mimo ravnokar omenjenih številčnih gigantov smo izgubili vid in sluh za vsaj približno pojmovanje teh preogromnih števil ter se le komaj še zavedamo, da je vsaka teh skupin miljonski večkratnik prejšnjega števila. Ali smo z označenim cen-teziljonom že na koncu? Oh, še dolgo nei Kajti matematična oblika 9" sama nam daje miljonkratno večje število kot je 601 številčni centeziljon, kajti izračunano je, da ima ta več kot 369 miljonov številk, za katero neskončno število napisati bi bilo tre-
ba 18.490 km dolgega papirja in še to pod pogojem, da napišemo 20 številk na razdalji enega decimetra.
In vsi dosedaj omenjeni številčni velikani se nam zde kot pritlikavci nasproti številu, ki ga je izračunil grški matematik Arhimed. Ta je namreč preračunil množino drobnega peska, kateri bi imel prostora v krogli s polumerom 10.000 miljonov razdalj med našo zemljo in solncem. Ta znanstveno obdelani Arhimedov račun je pokazal število, kj bi imelo noniljon številk. Ali astronom Aristarh je povečal s peskom napolnjeno Arhimedovo oblo do zvezd stalnic ter preračunil, da bi imela ta njegova krog-lja eden biljonkrat večjo vsebino nego Arhimedova, in tu je prišel Aristarh do števila peska v dotični njegovi obli, ki je nadvse pričakovanje ogromno, namreč: Ako bi hoteli to število peska zapisati, morali bi vsled varčnosti s prostorom napisati na vsak centimeter po 8 številk in bi moral biti papir dolg navzlic temu še 1 deciljon kilometrov.
In če sedaj ta vrtoglava premišljevanja prekinemo, še s tem ni rečeno, da smo do-šli na rob največjih številk. Človeškemu umu je pač dosega zadnje meje popolnoma nemogoča. Da bi človek zadnjo mejo oziroma konca teh števil niti potem ne našel, če bi Arhimedova ali še celo Aristarhova peščena zrnca spravil v ravno črto in jih potem razdaljil med seboj t. j. eno peščeno zrnce od drugega za miljone kilometrov in bi tako dobil polumer za napolnitev še mnogo, mnogo večje oble z novim peskom; in še potem mora biti mogoče število, ki bi označilo množino peščenih zrn v tej zadnje opisani brezmejni krogli.
Dovolj! Pustimo našemu umu zopet časa, da se odpočije od napornega premišljevanja brezkončnih števil. In ko prihajamo iz daljav Jega brezmejnega kraljestva števil zopet nazaj v vsakdanje razmere, pridemo do spoznanja, da je nam bilo mogoče zajadrati tako silno daleč edino-le na podlagi našega praktičnega in enostavnega de-setičnega sistema, kateremu je dala narava sama podlago z desetimi prsti na obeh človeških rokah.
Elektrika.
(Nadaljevanje.)
Stalnost členov.
Členi za hišne telefone in brzojave zelo trpe vsled tega, ker tekočina v njih naglo izhlapeva. Slaba posledica izhlapevanja je, da se na elektrodah — oglju in cinku — nabirajo kristali raztopljenih soli, kar oslabuje člen. Taki kristali se nabirajo ludi na stenah posod.
Vsem raznim slabim posledicam izhlapevanja se izognemo, ako členu večkrat dolijemo sveže vode.
Po leti, zlasti kadar je vetrovno, voda zelo hitro izhlapeva. Včasih je težko vedno paziti na člene, da je vedno dovolj vode.
Podoba 9.	Podoba	10.
Iznašli pa so napravo, ki poskrbi, da je v členu vedno enaka količina vode. Vzame se lahko navadno steklenico z ozkim grlom. To steklenico se napolni z vodo in z žico se jo pričvrsti nad člen, tako da sega ozko grlo v člen do tiste višine, do katere hočemo, da bo stala raztopina. Kljub temu, da je ta steklenica obrnjena z odprtino navzdol, voda vendar ne izteče dokler je odprtina v raztopini člena. Kakor hitro pa voda toliko izhlapi, da je površina raztopine pod odprtino steklenice, začne takoj voda iz steklenice teči in teče toliko časa, da pride gladina v členu zopet na isto mesto kod je bila prej. Na ta način imamo v členu vedno enako množino raztopine.
Da se prepreči izhlapevanje in nabiranje kristalov na stenah steklene posode, se namažejo te stene lahko s kako mastjo. Najboljše je v to svrho parafino-vo olje. S tem se izhlapevanje skoro popolnoma ustavi.
Bunsenov in Grenetov člen.
Ogledati si hočemo še dva druga člena. Podoba 9 nam kaže takozvani Busenov člen, a podoba 10 pa Grenetov člen. Ta dva člena ni mogoče uporabiti pri domači telegrafiji in pri električnih zvoncih. Pač pa sta zelo uporabna, kjer rabimo močan električen tok za kratko dobo. Tako na primer za pogon malih strojev, polnjenje akumolatorjev, za ponikljanje in pozla-čevanje itd.
Bunsenov člen je takole zložen: V stekleni posodi stoji cinkov plašč, na katerem je pritrjena medena žica, ki sega v loku iz posode. V sredini stoji podolgovasta, okrogla posoda iz gline. V tej posodi se nahaja ogelj. Ta glinasta posoda z ogljem se imenuje diafragma. Za polnjenje Bun-senovega člena rabimo dve različni kislini. Stekleno posodo napolnimo z razredčeno žvepleno kislino; na en del kisline vzamemo deset delov vode. Pri tem moramo paziti, da ne prilivamo vode h kislini, temveč kislino k vodi. Diafragmo napolnimo z dušično kislino. V obeh posodah morajo segati kisline do iste višine.
Bunsenov člen ima napetost približno pet voltov. Daje stalen električen tok, to se pravi, da ne opeša vsled daljše rabe, kakor členi, ki smo jih že prej opisali.
Paziti moramo tudi, da takoj ko nehamo rabiti Bunsenov člen, razderemo celo pripravo. Nikdar ne smemo pustiti tega člena stati, kadar ne rabimo njegovega toka. V tem se posebno razlikuje ta člen od salmijakovih členov, katere lahko pustimo stati kakor dolgo hočemo. Kisline spravimo v posebne zaprte posode, a diafragmo postavimo v kako posodo napolnjeno z vodo.
(Dalje prihodnjič.)
Naš kotiček.
No, toliko pisem pa še nisem nikdar dobil kot zadnje dneve. Par ur treba, da človek vse natančno prebere. Ampak jaz sem vseeno vesel, četudi včasih študiram pol ure, predno pogruntam kako pisemce. Iz vseh pisem se vidi, kako radi imate vsi Mladinski list. To je najlepše spričevalo, da je Ml. 1. res dober list.
Pa v kakih skrbeh ste bili vsi skupaj, ko zadnje številke ni bilo toliko časa! Eden je mislil, da je ostal kje v snežnih metežih, drugi zopet, da ga je pismonoša kam drugam zanesel. Res je januarska številka precej pozno izšla, toda ne po krivdi uredništva ali upravništva.
Stvar je bila ta-le:	Proti	koncu	meseca
je bila letna seja glavnega odbora Slovenske Narodne Podporne Jednote. Do zaključka te seje ni bilo mogoče izdati Mladinskega lista, ker je imela ta seja odločiti ali se naj ugodi vašim zahtevam po povečanem listu ali ne. Kakor ste videli, se je sklenilo tiskati Mladinski list na 32 straneh namesto 16 strani. Radi priročnosti se je sklenilo obenem obliko nekoliko pomanjšati tako, da si da lahko vsak koncem leta vezati vse številke v lepo knjigo.
Ko je bila letna seja končana, se je zače-
lo	takoj delo v tiskarni. Toda sedaj je bilo seveda skoro enkrat več dela, ker izhaja na 32 straneh, a vrhutega ima tiskarna zadnje dneve v mesecu vedno ogromno posla. Začetkom februarja je bil list tiskan in takoj razposlan. A kakor se vidi iz vaših pisem, ste nekateri dobili list šele okrog 20. februarja. V tem oziru pa ne zadene nikogar drugega krivda kakor kvečjemu pošto; pomisliti pa treba, da so bili baš takrat v raznih krajih veliki snežni meteži, kar je zelo oviralo redno poslovanje pošte. Za enkrat bodete torej morali že potrpeti. Sicer pa ste dobro odškodovani s tem, da je list povečan. Ta številka bi lahko prej izšla, toda zaradi vas samih je malo zadržana. Če bi namreč prej izšla, bi večina dopisov in rešitev ugank ne prišla v njo, ker je baš teden pred izdajo prišlo največ vaših pisem. Gotovo bi ne bili veseli, ko bi dobili februarsko številko, pa ne bi našli svojih imen v njej. Sedaj pa se požurite in takoj po-
šljite vaše rešitve in dopise, da bo lahko prihodnja številka izšla ob navadnem času.
Pišite kolikor mogoče razločno. Nič ne dene, če so tudi kake napake vmes — saj ste predaleč, da bi vas potegnil malo za ušesa, kakor da mamica enega izmed naših prijateljev, kadar naredi kako veliko napako v slovenščini. Torej radi tega ne rabite skrbeti. Jaz bom že popravil napake, toda pišite razločno, da ne rabim do polnoči študirati kakih kljuk. Pa pišite vedno s črnilom in samo po eni strani papirja.
Dopise in rešitve ugank pošiljajte na u-redništvo, a naročnino pa na upravništvo Mladinskega lista.
Kdor želi dobiti kuverte z natisnjenim naslovom uredništva, naj piše uredništvu in priloži 3 cente za poštnino.
Pozdrav!	Urednik.
Uganke.
3) Katere bolezni ne more človek liho prenašati?
1 1	2	3
4	5	6
7	8	9
(4) Premesti številke 1 do 9 v gornji razpredelnici tako, da bo vsota vsake vrste, bodisi vodoravno, navpično ali dijagonalno, znašala 15.
Rešitve ugank.
1) Sneg.
2) Jakec je imel 5, Mate pa 7 ovac.
Rešilci.
Obe uganke so rešili: Rozalija Vogrich, Chicago, 111. Jennie Bohinc, Export, Pa. Angela Bučar, East Moline, 111 James Kuzhnik, Chicago, 111. Tony Ausich, Woodward, Pa. Frank Virant, Imperial, la.
Frances Dolanc, La Salle, 111. Florence Jeraj, Collinwood, O.
Lena Gratchner, Clinton, Ind.
Ethel Turk, Nokomis, 111.
Frank Yavornik, Johnson City, 111. Leo Bregar, Maynard, O.
Anton Malinicli, La Salle, 111.
Frank Pike, Forest City, Pa.
John Debelak, Avella, Pa.
Frank Kreffel, Indianapolis, Ind. Daniel Obed, Avella, Pa.
Mary Dobro vole, Waukegan, 111.
Karl Crnc, Johnstown, Pa.
Mary Oblack, Clinton, Ind.
Isabelle Junko, Pittsburg, Kansas.
Po eno uganko so rešili: Tessie Kerže, Cleveland, Ohio. Edward Oblak, West Allis, Wis. Savina Glescic, Cleveland, Ohio. Rudie Raspet, Delmont, Pa.
Frances Vracher, Niles, Ohio.
Anna Sivec, Aliquippa, Pa.
Gusta Alich, Wilburlon, Okla. Rudolph Grošel, Cleveland, Ohio. Mary Blumel, Cleveland, Ohio.
John Steban, Herminie, Pa. Josephine Lokar, Cleveland, Ohio. Sylvia Homez, Auburn, 111 .
Anna Kramarsic, Chicago, 111.
Frank Zevnik, Cleveland, Ohio. Angela Eisenhardt, Lorain, Ohio. Wilka Kuznik, Grayslake, 111. Frances Kochevar, Red Lodge, Mont. Christina Ziegler, Masontown, Pa. Mike Krulc, Willard, Wis.
Fannie Pozun, Buena Vista, Pa. Jacob Istinich, East Palestine, Ohio. Edward Omahne, Clinton, Ind.
Mary Baraga, Chisholm, Minn.
Frank Yuzna, Biwabik, Minn.
Annie Tursic, Parkhill, Pa.
Elsie Stushek, Ladysmith, Wis. Annie Dimitz, Johnstown, Pa.
Jacob Trobec, East Palestine, Ohio. Frank Bayt, Coverdale, Pa.
Darinka Kuhel, Eveleth, Minn.
Mary Polantz, Johnstown, Pa. Robert Tekauc, Cleveland, Ohio. Anna Erste, Cleveland, Ohio.
Mary Shular, Gross, Kansas.
Mary Nagode, Midway, Pa. Valentine Bezek, Pineville, Minn.
Dopisi.
Cenjeni urednik! Odločila sem se napisati par vrstic, četudi pravi mama, da se bodete smejali, kadar bodete brali. Res je malo nerodno pisano, toda jaz upam, da bodete imeli z menoj nekoliko potrpljenja. Slovensko se učim od novega leta dalje. Mama mi je pri tem za učiteljico, samo je preveč sitna; veliko mi črta in popravlja, kadar kaj napišem. Stara sem štirinajst let. Cez eno leto, upam, bom že dobro pisala in brala slovensko. Samo da bi Mladinski list pogosteje prihajal, ker iz njega se največ naučim. Prihodnji mesec mislim bo moj dopis že malo boljši kakor je ta. . Pozdrav mladim prijateljem in prijateljicam!
Elsie Stushek, Ladysmith, Wis.
*	* *
Cenjeni urednik! Zadnji mesec sem bil že precej v skrbeh, ko le ni bilo in ni bilo od nikoder Mladinskega lista. Vsak dan sem čakal pri vratih v hišni ograji, kedaj prinese pismonoša januarsko številko. Pismonoša pride k nam vsak dan opoldne, to je ravno takrat ko pridem jaz iz šole k obedu. In slednjič je le prišel težko pričakovani Ml. 1. Od samega veselja bi skoraj na obed pozabil.
Jaz hodim v ljudsko šolo «t. 52. Vseh učencev v tej šoli nas je 1150. Imamo tudi svojo šolsko tiskarno in svoj mesečnik za učence. Pri mesečniku sem jaz za pomožnega urednika. Za dečke je poseben oddelek, kjer se učimo raznih rokodelstev, kakor mizarstva itd. Tudi šolsko godbo imamo, pri kateri sem tudi jaz zraven.
Kmalu se zopet oglasim, za sedaj pa ostajam z udanim pozdravom
Frank Kreffel, Indianapolis, Ind.
it	★	★
Dovolite mi malo prostora v Mladinskem listu, ker bi tudi jaz rad malo opisal, kako je v tej mrzli Minnesoti. Tako je bilo mrzlo, da so moje smuči cel teden počivale, ker je bilo premrzlo iti iz hiše. Imel sem tudi en teden sitnosti z influenco. Ampak ko je moj brat pritekel s pošte in mi prinesel Mladinski list, sem kar takoj ozdravil. Jaz ga strašno rad prebiram in ugibljem uganke. Želim le, da bi imel naš list veliko uspe-
ha in da bi izhajal dvakrat na mesec, ker to je moja šola in učitelj za slovenščino.
Frank Yiizna, Biwabilc, Minn.
★	* *
Cenjeni urednik! Po težkem čakanju je slednjič vendar prišel Mladinski list. Kako sem se razveselil, ko sem videl, da dobim nagrado! Mislil sem, da ne bom dobil nobene nagrade. Mojega veselja si ne morete predstavljati, ko sem prejel knjigo. Ne znam še prav dobro citati slovensko, pa prepričan sem, da bom vse razumel, ko bom parkrat prečital celo knjigo. Želim si, da bi prihodnjič dobil prvo nagrado. No. poskusil bom. Bratski pozdrav!
Daniel Obed, Avela, Pa.
★	*	*
Danes, to je 20. februarja, sem šele prejel januarsko številko Mladinskega lista. Radoveden sem, ali je tako pozno izšla ta številka ali pa je bila zadržana v sneženih zametih. — O zobku bom v kratkem poročal.
Mike Krnic, Willard, Wis.
Na drugem mestu najdeš pojasnilo, zakaj je januarska številka tako pozno izšla. —-Poročaj kmalu o zobku in miški.—Ur.
★	*	*
Že v naprej Vas prosim, da mi oprostite, če naredim kake pomote. Nisem še zmožna dobro pisati v slovenščini. Učim se pridno in upam, da bom kmalu znala dobro brati in pisati. Druge slovenske šole nimam, kol Mladinski list, katerega vsaki mesec komaj pričakujem.	Najrajši	bi	videla,	da	bi	prišel
kar vsak	dan.	Učim	se	z velikim	veseljem
in imam vedno dovolj zabave z našim ljubim Mladinskim listom. Pozdrav!
Wilka Kužnik, Grayslake, 111.
★	★
Cenjeni urednik! Komaj sem pričakovala z mojim mlajšim bratom in sestricami januarske številke Mladinskega lista. Naposled smo ga vendar pričakali. Kar cukali smo se, ko je slednjič prišel Mladinski list, kdo ga bo v rokah držal. Strinjam se z vsemi, ki žele, da bi naš Ml. 1. izhajal dvakrat na mesec.
Mi otroci tu v Illinoisu smo prav žalostni, posebno kateri imamo sani. Kaj nam pomagajo sani, ko pa se nimamo kod sankati. Včasih pade nekoliko snega, pa komaj toliko, da zemljo pobeli, a drugi dan ga pa nikjer več ni. Rada bi vedela kako se kaj
drugod pohvalijo bratci in sestrice s sneženim možem. V Minnesoti mora biti jako prijetno. Živela sem že tam, pa se mi je po zimi zelo dopadlo.
Sestrski pozdrav!
Theresa Mahnich, Granville, 111.
*	* *
Četudi ne znam še dobro pisat ne slovensko ne angleško, ker sem šele v drugem razredu, se hočem vendar oglasiti s par besedami. Za naš Ml. 1. se zelo zanimam, ter soglašam z drugimi, ki žele, da bi izhajal pogosteje. Zadnja številka me je posebno razveselila, ko sem videla med rešilci tudi svoje ime. Srčen pozdrav vsem sobratom in sosestram ter Vam, dragi urednik!
Angela Bucher, East Moline, 111.
*	★	*
Cenjeni urednik! Oglasiti se hočem tudi jaz tu iz severne Minnesote. Tu pri nas je prav hud mraz in burja; pretečeni teden smo imeli 45 stopinj pod ničlo. Zato pa je tudi resnično, ko pravijo: Deklica iz severne strani — mora biti rudeča kot kri. Mladinski list vedno prav nestrpno pričakujem. Ko bi vsaj dvakrat na mesec prihajal! Uganke me zelo zanimajo, pa jih bom redno reševala in tudi večkrat kaj pisala.
Pozdrav vsem bralcem!
Darinka Kuhel, Eveletli, Minn.
★	*	★
Cenjeni urednik! Prav lepo se zahvaljujem za krasni knjigi. Kakor hitro ju je pismonoša prinesel, sem začela brati in sem zelo vesela ter zadovoljna z njimi. Seveda bolj počasi berem, a se bom že privadila.
Mladinski list se mi je zelo priljubil. Stara sem petnajst let in hodim v tretji letnik High School. Poleg drugega se učim tudi glasovir tako, da mi ostaja prav malo prostega časa. Ampak za naš Mladinski list pa imam vedno dovolj časa.
Prejmite iskrene pozdrave od
Tessie Kerže, Cleveland, Ohio.
★	★ ★
Cenjeni urednik! Z velikim veseljem sem sprejel Ml. 1. za januar. Priloženo Vam pošiljam rešitve ugank. Želel bi tudi, da bi se še kakšen drugi oglasil v Mladinskem listu iz naše naselbine. Saj nas je veliko slovenskih dečkov in deklic tu. Pri društvu Združenje št. 104 nas je v Mladinskem od-
delku približno štirideset. Naše mesto je oddaljeno pet milj od Michiganskega jezera, oziroma štiri milje od Milwaukee. Tu imamo več šol, in sicer dve navadni in eno višjo, v katero liodi moj starejši brat. Zraven Washington šole, v katero hodim jaz, imamo veliko drsališče, kjer imamo vedno dovolj razvedrila in zabave. Ob večerih in drugem prostem času pa se učimo doma godbe. Smo trije bratje in vsi prav pridno prebiramo Mladinski list.
Pozdrav vsem sobratom in sosestram!
Edward Oblak, West Allis, Wis.
★	* *
Cenjeni urednik! V zadnjih šestih mesecih sem bil pri ugankah vedno zadnji, toda v prihodnjih šestih pa hočem na vsak način prilesti med prve. Vi ne veste, kako me je imelo zadnji mesec, ko le ni bilo januarske številke. Napotil sem se celo k tajniku našega društva št. 2, da poizvem kaj je z Mladinskim listom. Skrbelo me je namreč, da bi list ne prenehal izhajati. Toda ravno tistega dne, ko sem bil pri našem tajniku, se je oglasil pri nas pismonoša — in mojih skrbi je bilo konec.
List je res izboren. Toda prej ne smemo odnehati, dragi bratci in sestrice, dokler ne bo izhajal dvakrat na mesec. Nič ne dene, če se naročnina nekoliko poviša. List je namenjen nam v izobrazbo. Tej svrhi pa list ne more popolnoma zadostovati, ako prihaja samo enkrat na mesec. Mladinski list je naša šola. In če bi šli v ljudsko šolo samo enkrat na mesec, bi gotovo sproti vse pozabili.
Pri nas razsaja nalezljiva bolezen osep-nice; skoro na vsakih drugih vratih je nabit svarilni oklic. Zabave se nam seveda ne manjka. Snega nimamo posebno veliko, niti toliko ne, da bi se mogli sankati.
Drugi mesec se zopet oglasim. Pozdrav!
Anton Mahnich, La Salle, 111.
★	★ *
V	naši družini nas je več otrok in kadar pride Mladinski list, se kar stepemo kdo ga bo prvi čital. Za uganke nimam posebno dobre glave, vendar pa bom vedno poskusila svojo srečo. — Tu se največ zabavamo v S. N. domu. Imamo slovenske Sokole in Sokolice, pri katerih sem tudi jaz. Slovenskih otrok nas je tu prav veliko. Zima je mrzla, četudi ni posebno veliko snega. Sa-
mo da bi prišla kaj kmalu lepa in gorka pomlad! Na zdar!
Mary Dobrovolc, Waukegan, 111.
*	* *
Spoštovani urednik! Jaz sem prišel šele pred letom in pol v Ameriko. Postal sem član največje slovenske podporne jednote S. N. P. J. in sem zelo vesel, da dobivam Ml. 1., ki ga izdaja Jednota v prid svoje mladine. Z največjim veseljem prebiram povesti, rešujem uganke in gledam krasne slike, ki jih priobčuje Ml. 1. Včasih sem že kakšno uganko prav rešil, vendar doslej nisem imel poguma poslati Vam mojih rešitev, ker nisem bil gotov ali so prav ali ne. Od sedaj naprej pa Vam hočem Doslati vse svoje rešitve, ter včasih tudi napisati kak dopis. Jaz vem, da Vas s tem nadlegujemo, toda iz Vaših besed v Mladinskem listu vidim, da se zanimate za nas in da potrpite, če je naše nadlegovanje včasih malo prehudo. Danes Vam pošljem rešitev na uganke v zadnji številki. Ne vem, ali sem prav rešil ali ne. — Rad bi Vas prosil, da bi mi dovolili nekoliko prostora v Mladinskem listu, da bi na kratko opisal svoje mlado življenje v starem kraju in prihod v Ameriko. Imel bi mnogo za povedati, toda ne vem, ali bi to bralce zanimalo.
Srčen pozdrav!
Rudolph Grošel, Cleveland, Ohio.
Kar popiši svoje življenje v starem kraju in svoje potovanje. Vem, da se bo vsak naših mladih prijateljev zanimal-za tvojo povest, ker imaš gotovo marsikaj zanimivega povedati, kar nekaterim ni znano, ki so tu rojeni. — Ur.
*	* ★
Cenjeni urednik! Težko sem pričakovala januarske številke Mladinskega lista. Radovedna sem bila, kdo bo dobil nagrade pri rešitvah ugank. Nekoliko sem zaostala, tako da za sedaj sploh nisem upala na nagrado. V tej polovici leta se bom pa bolj potrudila. List se mi zelo dopade, posebno sedaj, ko je povečan. Kar nas je otrok v 5., 6., 7. in 8. razredu, hodino v šolo v Export, ki je eno miljo daleč od tu. Slovenskih otrok nas je 26. Šola tu v White Valley je premajhna za toliko otrok, kot nas je tu.
Pozdrav vsem mladim čitateljem!
Jennie Bohinc, White Valley, Pa.
grado se naj požuri. Še vedno je mogoče, da dobi prvo nagrado!—Urednik.
*	* ★
Cenjeni urednik! Kako nam je Mladinski list pribljubljen je razvidno iz dopisov. — Moja januarska številka je prišla šele 15. februarja. Že sem se spravil na pismonoša, da je moj list zanesel v kako drugo hišo. Tako večkrat pomotoma naredi z očetovo Prosveto. Slovensko pisati in brati sem se že precej naučil, ker me mama uči. Seveda pri tem ne trpijo samo možgani, temveč večkrat tudi ušesa zraven.
Pozdrav vsem čitateljem!
Frank Zevnik, Cleveland, Ohio.
Cenjeni urednik! Dolgo, dolgo smo morali čakati na januarsko številko- Mladinskega lista. Bali smo se že, da ga je burja vzela, ki je pred kratkim razsajala preko Chicage. Tudi tukaj smo jo imeli, tako da nismo imeli nobenega veselja igrati se zunaj. Včasih smo se pa le malo okorajžili in šli ven na sneg, če tudi ga ni več kot za par palcev. Samo mrzlo je bilo na prostem, da je joj. Kar kapo sem si potlačil še nižje na ušesa. Hujše je seveda, kadar človek nima kape, kar se včasih tudi rado pripeti; kadar se nas nabere pet ali šest dečkov in si začnemo metati snežene hruške v glavo, nima nobeden časa pobirati kape. Ampak za res se ne skavsamo no-benkrat. Samo da se malo utrudimo in razgrejemo, pa smo zopet dobri. Tukaj nas je samo par Slovencev. Drugi so Hrvati in nekaj Italijanov; večina pa je Angležev. Do šole imamo kake pol milje za hodit. Zraven šole imamo veliko igrišče, kjer nam nikdar ne zmanjka zabave. Večji dečki se igrajo z žogo, in ker sem povsod zraven, jo dobim včasih po nosu. Ker sem bolj majhen in mlad, me drugi večji dečki iz višjih razredov kar pohodjo. Dvakrat se preobrnem, z nosom malo porijem po pesku, potočim par solz, ki si jih pa hitro in skrivaj obrišem z rokavom, pa sem zopet za njih hrbtom, še predno sc je njih smeh polegel. No, če naredi veliki deček pred menoj korak nazaj, sem zopet na tleh. Takrat pa zazvoni zvon in vsi zdirjamo po stopnicah v šolo. — Med rešilci se je zgodila naj-brže mala pomota. Nikjer namreč ne najdem Rose Kutin, ki je rešila približno toliko ugank, kakor jaz. — List se dopade meni in vsem drugim otrokom. Kar iz rok v roko potuje tako, da je nazadnje že čisto raztrgan.
Pozdrav!
Toni/ Ausieh, Woodward, Iowa.
To je lepo, da si se pobrigal za Roziko, .laz sem takoj pregledal vsa pisma, kar jih je prišlo za zadnjo številko, toda njenega pisma ni bilo nikjer. V šesti številki lahko vidiš, da je imela vsega skupaj že rešenih 13 ugank. Toda njenih rešitev za uganke v šesti številki nisem prejel. Mogoče sploh ni poslala, ali pa se je pismo zgubilo. Tudi za to številko ni prišlo nobeno pismo od nje. Le reci ji, da se naj zopet oglasi. Pa za na-
*	* *
Cenjeni urednik!
Prav lepo se zahvalim za tri knjige, ki sem jih dobil kot prvo nagrado. Silno vesel sem teh knjig, ker so tako mične pravljice v njih; in tako lepe slike so v vseh treh! Vi ne veste, kako sem se razveselil, ko sem videl v zadnji številki, da sem dobil prvo nagrado. Toda moje veselje je bilo še mnogo večje, ko sem prejel tako lepe knjige. In še nekaj me je razveselilo: da ste namreč Mladinski list razširili. Sedaj je mnogo več branja notri in tudi več prostora za naše dopise.
Iskren pozdrav!
Frank Virant, Imperial, Pa.
★	★ ★
Cenjeni urednik! Tudi jaz rada berem Ml. 1., samo preveč poredkoma prihaja; ko bi prišel vsaj vsaki teden, potem bi že še šlo. Stara sem dvanajst let, pa znam slovensko pisati in brati. Prav rada pojem lepe slovenske pesmice. Tista se mi posebno dopade:
Vprašaš me, čemu sem Slovenka, čemu Slovenec mi vsak je brat; čemu mi ljub Tolminc, Dolenjka,
Staj ere, Primor in Hrvat.
Ker slovenski oče, mati me učila dom moj znati . . . itd.
Ali se Vam ne zdi lepa ta pesem? — Pošiljam Vam tudi rešitve ugank. Rada bi bila med prvimi, ker bi rada dobila kako knjigo za nagrado, no poskusila bom, če bo kaj sreče. — Zdaj vam pa še jaz povem
eno uganko; bom videla, če jo boste uganili. Kaplan ima odspred, župnik odzad, kanonik pa odspred in odzad. Kaj je to?
Prihodnjič se zopet oglasim. Za sedaj lep pozdrav!
Angela Eisenhardt, Lorain, Ohio.
Pesmica je res lepa. Zdi se mi, da je nova, ker jaz je še nisem nikdar čul, četudi
Cenjeni urednik! Prejela sem Mladinski list, četudi bolj pozno. Tudi letos bom ugibala uganke; mogoče mi bo sreča bolj mila kot lansko leto. Zahvaliti se moram, da ste priobčili ‘Miška, na zobek!’ Prepričala sem se, da je res tako kot pravite. Prinesla mi je čisto nov ‘dime’. Škoda da nisem tega prej vedela, kajti dva zoba sem že prej
Alkimist.
so mi znane po večini vse slovenske pesmi.
—	Tvoja uganka je precej zasukana, ampak jaz sem jo takoj pogruntal. Rešitve pa nočem povedati —- naj si tudi drugi malo glavo belijo! — Urednik.
*	* ¥
spulila. Atek pravi, da ima miška še dosti desetic, mamica se pa pri tem od strani smeje; ne vem kaj ta smeh pomeni. — Strinjam se z drugimi dopisniki, da bi naj Ml. 1. izhajal dvakrat na mesec.
Frances Kochevar, Red Lodge, Mont.
JUVENIL
MONTHLY MAGAZINE FOR YOUNG SLOVENIANS IN AMERICA
VOLUME II.
FEBRUARY, 1923
NUMBER 2.
fUtVL
MLADINSKI LIST
Remember Rover.
By Ellis Parker Butler.
Well, the way it happened was like this: my sister May was going to be married to Mr. Edwin Skreever, of Derlingport, Iowa, on September eleventh, in the evening. They were going to be married at our house down in town—in Riverbank—and from the way May and Mother talked about it you would think it was going to be grand and lovely and everything. So May said to Mother:
“Well, I suppose George and Wampus will have to be at the wedding but I tremble to think of it. I know they will do some awful thing and spoil everything, but I suppose they will have to be there.”
her, “Do keep your hands off that, George!” and “Please don’t touch that, George!”
We had been up there on Birch Island all summer—our family and Wampus Smale’s family and a dozen other families —living in the cottages on stilts and having a good time on the island and on the good old Mississippi. So, about the first of September, most of the families went back down to town but our family and the Smales did not. They waited a few days longer.
Just about then—about the first of September—Mr. Edwin Skreever came down from Derlingport in his motor boat to visit
Abraham Lincoln.
Born in a lowly cabine among the woods,
He worked, he aimed, he won his fame,
Our sixteenth president beloved by young and old the same,
His face was homely but his beautiful soul Shone through his eyes as bright as a jewel;
He tore asunder the bonds which kept our country with a stain, The slavery that gave his heart its greatest pain.
His glorious sacrificing life was ended by an enemy’s hand, And people mourned for him all over the land.
Wampus Smale is my chum, you understand, and lives handy to our house down in town. May knew mighty well I wouldn’t go to her wedding or to anybody’s wedding unless Wampus went too. We always go together.
“Wel’ll just have to hope for the best,” Mother said.
“Well, there is one thing certain,” May said. “I’m not going to have those boys down there until the last possible moment. When we go down to make the preparations I want them left up here on the island where they will be out of mischief.”
That suited me, all right! I did not want to go down and have May nagging me with
with us until the wedding. I don’t say I liked him much; neither did Wampus. Maybe he was all right but he was no fun. He thought he was wonderful, I guess, and May thought so, but he was too haughty to suit me. I gues he didn’t like boys much and he thought he had to be severe and solemn with them. He acted as if he thought he might die if the creases got out of his trousers. He had no use for my dog, either. He was always saying: “Down! Lie down! Get down! Get out!” to Rover. He did not like him.
You see, Rover is a pretty big dog and affectionate. He would rush up to Mr. Edwin Skreever and jump up on him and
try to kiss him on the face. Sometimes he would get one paw on Mr. Edwin Skreever’s necktie and one paw on his collar, and sometimes he would get one paw 011 Mr. Edwin Skreever’s vest and the other sort of tangled in his watch chain. Then Mr. Edwin Skreever would whack at him and say: “Get down, you beast!” But not when May was handy.
Rover was my dog, because May had given him to me, but lie was May’s dog, too, because Mr. Jack Betts had given him to May. I never knew when Rover was my dog and when he was May’s dog, because girls are mostly Indian givers. When she wanted to pet Rover and take him walking he was May’s dog—so she claimed —but when Rover howled or needed to be fed May would say:	“For goodness’ sake,
Geoi'ge, attend to that dog of yours!”
I gues one reason Mr. Edwin Skreever did not care much for Rover was because Mr. Jack Betts had given him to May. I guess Mr. Edwin Skreever was jealous, because when Mr. Jack Betts gave Rover to May everybody thought Mr. Jack Betts was the one she was going to be married to.
Well, no matter! I only want to tell you the awful fix Wampus and I got into on account of being left up there 011 the island where we would be out of mischief.
On the ninth of September Parceli came up in his big motor launch and took May and Mother and the Smales all down to town to get ready for May’s wedding. So they left Mr. Edwin Skreever 011 the island with me and Wampus, because we could go down in Mr. Edwin Skreever’s motor boat
011	the eleventh, which was the wedding day. I guess they were almost as glad to have Mr. Edwin Skreever out of the way as they were to have me and Wampus out of the way.
That left nobody 011 the island but us three and Orpheus Cadwallader, who is the caretaker and stays on the island all winter. He was to close up our cottage when we left.
So that was all right. The last thing May said before she got aboard Parcell’s launch was:
“Now, George, you be sure don’t let Rover wander off somewhere so you can’t bring
him down when you come. You had better lie him up.”
That was because Rover was a wandering dog. lie liked to explore. What he liked to explore for was dead fish, mostly. That was one of the only two bad habits Rover had. If you didn’t tie him up at night lie would wander off until he found a dead fisli and then he would roll in it. The deader the fish was the better he liked it; he thought it was perfumery, I guess. He would wander for miles around the island, and even swim across to Oak Island and wander there, hunting a dead fish to perfume himself with.
The only way to keep him from wandering after dead fish was to tie him up, and then he howled all night. That was his second bad habit, and it was almost worse than dead fish. He was the loudest and saddest howler I ever heard. When you tied him up he would sit down 011 his haunches and put his nose up and open his mouth and just let loose all the agony of all the dogs that ever suffered pain or sorrow from the days of Adam right 011 to today. And loudly, too. When Rover really got interested in howling you could hear him five miles.
The only thing in Riverbank 01* anywhere near it that made as much noise os Rover’s howl was Mr. Jack Betts’s motor boat. His motor boat was a speed boat and was called the Skittery III, because Mr. Jack Betts had run the Skittery I and the Skittery 11 onto snags and mashed them to splinters. I guess that was one reason why May did not want to marry Mr. Jack Betts—she was afraid he would mash himself to splinters some day. A husband that is mashed to splinters is not much use around the house.
Mr. Edwin Skreever used to say:
“That’s Jack Betts all over! He uses a barrel of gasoline every time he takes out that boat of his—fourteen dollars to risk his life for ten miles of idiotic speed, and he hasn’t a dollar in the bank! Twenty-seven years old and not a dollar to his name!”
Even Father would not ride in the Skittery HI. It was much faster boat than the others and could make thirty-five miles an hour upstream on our old Mississippi, and
that is some speed! When it was going full tilt the Slcittery 111 stood up on about three inches of the stern end of its keel and simply skittered on the water, and all twelve cylinders screamed. It made more noise than forty airplanes. It made more noise than ten planing mills. I never knew anything that made such a noise.
only there wouldn’t be any Jack Betts to go to China.
Well, about four o’clock on September tenth we heard a noise down the river that sounded like forty-seven sawmills and we knew Mr. Jack Betts was starting the Kitten/ III. Town is four miles down river and in about a minute the Skittery 111 came
Chicago Art Institute.
Miner Crouching.
C. Meunier.
And go? Mr. Jack Betts and his chauffeur had to wear leather helmets to keep the wind from blowing the hair right off their heads. Father said that if the boat ever took a nose dive it would ram itself so deep into the bottom of the water that Jack Betts would have to go around to China and pull it the rest of the way through—
roaring up into our chute and Mr. Jack Betts shut off the power and taxied in to the shore of our island. He had a note for Mr. Edwin Skreever, and it was from May. Mr. Jack Betts stood around and asked if there was any answer. Mr. Edwin Skreever said there was not—that May only wanted him to go down a little earlier the next day
than she had told him before. He was rather stiff about it, and Mr. Jack Betts was just as stiff, and after a minute or two Mr. Jack Betts went down and got into the Skittery III and skittered back to town.
Wampus and I sat on the rocks of the ripraps in front of our cottage and watched the Skittery 111 skitter. Old Rover was there, piling all over us, and we kept pushing him away and telling him to sit down. Every now and then he would tangle us in the rope that was tied to his collar.
“You had better tie up that dog,” Mr. Edwin Skreever said. “If he wanders off to-night you may not have him to-morrow.”
Now, just notice how things happen in this world sometimes. Mr. Edwin Skreever was on the porch of our cottage, behind the wire screens where the mosquitoes could not get at him, and he was not very quiet. I guess he was thinking of how he would have to be married the next day. Anyway he was walking up and down the porch, putting his hands into his pockets and taking them out again. Every minute or so he would say something to us, as a man does when he is nervous. First he would tell us to tie up the dog, then he would say he hoped the dog did wander away and that he would be glad if he never saw the dog again.
“And just you let me tell you one thing!” he said. “I’m not going to have that dog jumping all over me at my wedding. I’m not going to have that dog clawing all over me and clawing all over May and making a general nuisance of himself. And I won’t have him tied up and howling. I’m not going to let that dog spoil my wedding. You understand that!”
I just said “Aw!” and went on talking with Wampus and wrestling with Rover. So, in a little while, the Bright Star came along down the river with a couple of government barges loaded with willows. There are not many boats on the river now, so Wampus and I looked at the Bright Star as she went by, and when she reached the lower end of our island she veered in and laid the two barges alongside the ripraps. The men ran a couple of cables ashore and
made the two barges fast by hitching the cables to a couple of trees and then the Bright Star sheered off and crossed the chute and went out of sight behind Buffalo Island, across the chute. It was no fun sitting where we were listening to Mr. Edwin Skreever scold, so Wampus and I got up and went down the path to take a look at the two barges.
They were like plenty of other government barges we had seen. These two had their numbers painted on them—“U. S. 420” and “U. S. 426”—and they were seventeen feet wide and eighty-two feet long. Wampus and I had been in and over those very two barges more than once. We knew just how they were made and all about them.
The two barges, as they lay along the shore there, were piled high with cut willows. The government men cut the willows where they grow at the lower-ends of islands and take them on the barges to places where they are repairing dams or ripraps. They throw the willows on the dams, butt end upstream, and dump rocks on them. Ripraps along the banks are made that same way. It is not often you see two barges alone; the steamer usually tows four or six at a time. All these barges are decked over. The decks are made of four inch planks, and at each end of this flooring are two hatches, with lids. When nobody is around to order a fellow off the barges he can pull up these hatch covers and get inside the barges.
The inside of one of those barges is not much of a place to be in. When you go down through the hatch you see that the inside is damp, with maybe three or four inches of water in it, and smell of tar or oakum. It is about five feet from the bottom boards to the floorboards, so a fellow can stand up there, but he can’t run much because there are criss-cross braces. Neither is the inside of a barge one big room. Two great, thick bulkheads, or wooden walls, run lengthwise of the barge and cut it into three narrow halls—as you might call them —eighty feet long and about five feet wide.
(To be continued.)
What Charles Darwin Saw
in his voyage around the world in the ship Beagle.
Preface.
Everybody has eyes, but, as you know, some people arc blind; and many of those who are not blind wear glasses, and cannot see without them. But even those whose eyes are good and strong do not all see alike. In a roomful of people, you would be sure to see your father and mother; and if all the rest were strangers to you, you would probably not notice a good many of them. Or if you were just learning to read, and were Shown a printed page, you would see the words you know how to spell, and would pay very little attention to most of the others. If we should go searching for spring flowers, I, who know what anemones and hepaticas are like, should find more than you who had never seem them before. And if our walk was among woods, some would come home remembering only that they had seen pines and oaks; and I alone, perhaps, that I had seen birches and ash-trees too. And again, if our excursion was by roads you had never travelled before, some of you could next time go the same way without my showing you, while others would feel lost at the first turn.
So those see best who know the most, or who naturally take notice of new things. Now Charles Darwin was one of the best seers that ever lived, partly because he had learned so well what to look for, and partly because nothing escaped his eyes. Before he himself travelled, he read a great many books of travel, and he seemed to remember at the right time just what it was useful for him to remember. But before that, he had trained himself, with the aid of the microscope, to observe little things; and people were astonished at learning how many important things he thus saw which they had never seen, or had seen without thinking them of any consequence. And now all the world looks at things differently from what it used to before he showed it how. How he saw things you will partly see by reading some excerpts in this
and in following numbers, taken from liis account of the voyage of the ship Beagle.
Charles Darwin (whose full name was Charles Bobert Darwin) was born at Shrewsbury, a famous town in Shropshire, England, February 12, 1809. His father was Dr. Bobert Waring Darwin; his grandfather Dr. Erasmus Darwin, also a distinguished naturalist. Darwin was educated, first at Shrewsbury, then at the University of Edinburgh, and finally at Cambridge. The end of his schooling was in 1831. Then Captain Fitzroy invited him to join the Beagle as naturalist, and he sailed from Devonport, England, December 27, 1831, not to return till October 22, 183(5. The object of the expedition was principally “to complete the survey of Patagonia and Tier-ra de Fuego, commenced under Captain King in 1826 to 1830, and to survey the shores of Chili, Peru, and of some islands in the Pacific,” besides sailing round the world.
Darwin died April 19, 1882.
The Savage.
EBHAPS nothing is more certain to create astonishment than the first sight, in his native haunt, of a barbarian — of man in his lowest and most savage state. One’s mind hurries back over past centuries, and then ask, Could our forefathers have been men like these?
—	men whose very signs and expressions are less intelligible to us than those of the domesticated animals; men who do not possess the instinct of those animals, nor yet appear to boast of human reason, or at least of arts which result from that reason. I do not believe it is possible to describe or paint the difference between savage and civilized man. It is the difference between a wild and a tame animal (only greater, because in man there is a greater power of improvement); and part of the interest in beholding a savage is the same which would make every one desire to see the lion in
his desert, the tiger tearing his prey in the jungle, or the rhinoceros wandering over the wild plains of Africa.
The Fuegian.
The Fuegians of Good Success Uay are a very different race from the stunted, miserable wretches farther westward; and they seem closely related to the famous Patagonians of the Strait of Magellan. Their only garment consists of a mantle made of guanaco skin, with the wool outside. This they wear just thrown over their shoulders, leaving their persons as often exposed as covered. Their skin is of a dirty coppery-red color. Their chief spokesman, an old man, had a fillet of white feathers tied round his head, which partly confined his black, coarse, and entangled hair. His face was crossed by two broad bars: one, painted bright red, reached from ear to ear, and included the upper lip; the other, white like chalk, streched above the first so that even his eyelids were thus colored. His two companions, younger and powerful men, about six feet high, were ornamented by streaks of black powder, made of charcoal. The parly altogether closely resembled the devils which come on the stage in plays like “Der Freisehuetz.”
Their very attitudes were abject, and the expression of their countenances distrustful, surprised, and startled. After we had presented them with some scarlet cloth, which they immediately tied round their necks, they became good friends. This was shown by the old man patting our breasts and making a chuckling kind of noise, as people do when feeding chickens. I walked with the old man, and this demonstration of friendship was i-epeated several times, ending in three hard slaps, which were given me on the breast and back at the same time. He then bared his bosom for me to return the compliment, which being done, lie seemed highly pleased.
The language of these people, according to our notions, scarcely deserves to be called articulate. Captain Cook has compared it to a man clearing his throat; but certainly no European ever cleared his throat with
so many hoarse, guttural and clicking sounds! They are excellent mimics:	as
often as we coughed, or yawned, or made any odd notion, they immediately imitated us. Some of our party began to squint and look awry; but one of the young Fuegians (whose whole face was painted black, excepting a white band across his eyes) suc-ceded in making far more hideous grimaces. They could repeat with perfect correctness each word in any sentence we addressed them, and they remembered such words for some time. Yet we all know how difficult it is to distinguish apart the sounds in a foreign language. Which of us, for instance, could follow an Indian through a sentence of more than three words? All savages seem to have, to an uncommon degree, this power of mimicry. I was told, almost in the same words, of the some laughable habit among the South African Kaffirs; the Australians, likewise, have long been notorious for being able to imitate and describe the gait of any man so that he may be recognized. How can this faculty be explained? Does it come from the more practised habits of perception and keener senses common to all men in a savage state, as compared with those long civilized?
The inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego, living chiefly upon shellfish, are obliged constantly to change their place of residence; but they return at intervals to the same spots, as is evident from the piles of old shells, which must often amount to many tons in weight. These heaps can be recognized at a long distance by the bright green color of certain plants which always grow on them. Among these are the wild celery and scurvey-grass, two very serviceable plants, the use of which has not been discovered by the natives. The Fuegian wigwan resembles, in size and dimensions, a hay-cock. It consists merely of a few broken branches stuck in the ground, and very rudely attached on one side with a few tufts of grass and rushes. The whole cannot be the work of an hour, and it is only used for a fewr days. On the west coast, however, the wigwans are rather better, for they are covered with seal-skins.
While going one day on shore near Wollaston Island, we pulled alongside a canoe with six Fuegians. These were the most abject and miserable creatures I anywhere beheld. On the east coast the natives, as we have seen, have guanaco cloaks, and on the west they possess seal skins. Among these central tribes the men generally have
was absolutely so. It was raining heavily, and the fresh water, together with the spray, trickled down her body. In another harbor, not far distant, a woman who was suckling a newly born child came one day alongside the vessel; and remained there, out of mere curiosity, while the sleet fell and thawed on her naked bosom and on
Chicago Art Institute.
The Foundryman.
C. Meunier.
an otter-skin, or some small scrap, about as large as a pocket-handkerchief, which is barely sufficient to cover their backs as low down as their loins. It is laced across the breast by strings, and, according as the wind blows, it is shifted from side to side. But these Fuegians in the canoe were quite naked, and even one, full-grown woman
the skin of her naked baby! These poor wretches were stunted in their growth, their hideous faces bedaubed with white paint, their skins filthy and greasy, their hair entangled, their voices discordant, and their gestures violent. Viewing such men, one can hardly make one’s self believe that they are fellow-creatures, and inhabitants
of the same world. We often try to imagine what pleasure in life some of the lower animals can enjoy: how much more reasonable the same question may be asked concerning these barbarians! At night five or six human beings, naked, and scarcely protected from the wind and rain of this tempestuous climate, sleep on the wet ground, coiled up like animals. Whenever it is low water — winter or summer, night or day — they must rise to pick shell-fish from the rocks; and the women either dive to collect sea-eggs or sit patiently in their canoes, and with a baited hair-line, without any hook, jerk out little fish. If a seal is killed, or the floating carcass of a putrid whale discovered, it is a feast; and such miserable food is assisted by a few tasteless berries and fungi.
They often suffer from famine. I heard Mr. Low, a sealing-master very well acquainted with the natives of this country, give a curious account of the state of a party of one hundred and fifty natives on the west coasts, who were very thin, and in great distress. A succesion of gales prevented the women from getting shell-fish on the rocks, and they could not go out in their canoes to catch seal. A small party of these men one morning set out on a four day’s journey for food; on their return Low went to meet them, and found them excessively tired—each man carrying a great square piece of putrid whale’s blubber, with a hole in the middle, through which he put his head, as the Gauchos do through their ponchos or cloaks. As soon as the blubber was brought into a wigwan an old man cut off the slices, and muttering over them, broiled them for a minute, and distributed them to the famished party, who, during this time, preserved a profound silence. Mr. Low believes that whenever a whale is cast on shore the natives bury large pieces of it in the sand as a resource in time of famine. The different tribes, when at war, are cannibals; and it is certainly true, that, when pressed in winter by hunger, they kill and devour their old women before they kill their dogs. A boy, being asked by Mr. Low why they did this, answered: “Doggies catch otters, old women no.”
Few, if any, of the natives in the Beagle Channel could ever have seen a white man; certainly nothing could exceed their astonishment at the sight of our four boats. Fires were lighted on every point (hence the name of Tierra del Fuego, or the land of fire), both to attract our attention and to spread far and wide the news. Some of the men ran for miles along the shore. I shall never forget how wild and savage one group appeared; suddenly four or five men came to the edge of an overhanging cliff; they were absolutely naked, and their long hair streamed about their faces. They held rough staves in their hands, and, springing from the ground, waved their arms round their heads, and set forth the most hideous yells. At dinner-time we landed among a party of Fuegians. At first they were not inclined to be friendly, for, until Captain Fitz Roy pulled in ahead of the other boats, they kept their slings in their hands. We soon, however, delighted them by trifling presents, such as tying red tape round their heads. They liked our biscuit; but one of the savages touched witli his finger some of the meat, preserved in tin cases which I was eating,, and feeling it soft and cold, he showed as much disgust at it as I should have done at putrid blubber. It was as easy to please as it was hard to satisfy these savages. Young and old, men and children, never ceased repeating the word “Yammerschooner”, which means “give me” and pointing to almost every object, one after the other even to the buttons on our coats. At night we slept close to the junction of Ponsonby Sound with the Heagle Channel. A small family of Fuegians, who were living in the cove, were quiet and inoffensive, and soon they joined our party round a blazing fire. We were well clothed, and, though, sitting close to the fire, were far from too warm; yet these naked savages, though farther off, were observed to our great surprise, to be streaming with perspiration from such a roasting. They seemed, however well pleased and all joined in the chorus of the seamen’s songs; but the way in which they were always behindhand was very ludicrous.
I believe that man, in this extreme part of South America, exists in a lower state of
improvement than in any other part o the world. The South Sea Islanders, of the two races inhabiting the Pacific, are compera-tively civilized. The Eskimo, in his underground hut, enjoys some of the comforts of life, and in his canoe, when fully equipped, shows much skill. Some of the tribes of Southern Africa, prowling about in search of roots, and living hid on the wild and parched plains, are wretched enough. The Australians, in the simplicity of the arts of
life, comes nearest the Fuegian; he can, however, boast of his boomerang, his spear and thro wings tick; his mode of climbing trees, of tracking animals, and of hunting. But although Australians may be superior in acquirements it by no means follows that he is likewise superior in mental capacity. Indeed, from what I saw of the Fuegians, and from what I have read of the Australians, I should think the opposite was true.
The Earth a Sun.
One time our planet was a sun,	And when the rains began	to fall,
That burned within the sky;	They covered it with ocean,
Perhaps folks watched from other worlds That tossed and foamed from pole to pole, To see it whirling by.	In manifest commotion.
And then its blazing surface cooled	A great and mighty water	world!
As every surface must,	A blazing mass inside.
And covered all the fire with	Which bent the crust and	lifted it
A hard and rocky crust.	Above the water tide.
So came the first and rocky shore,
The prehistoric land,
Where now we live and love and learn,
And try to understand.
M. E. Marcy.
Why Alexander Wept.
The teacher was telling the class about the conquests of Alexander the Great, who was in the end moved to tears because there were 110 more worlds to conquer. He made the tale a stirring one, and at last reached the conquest of India. Wishing to impress the children, he said:
“When Alexander had conquered India, what do you think he did? Do you think he gave a great feast to celebrate the triumph? No, he sat down and wept.”
The children seemed to be a little dis-
appointed at this childish exhibition on the part of the hero, so the teacher continued: “Now, why do you think Alexander wept ?” he asked.
Up went a little hand; but when its owner saw it was the only one in view he hurriedly withdrew it.
“Come on now, Tommy,” said the teacher in his most persuasive voice, “why do you think Alexander wept?”
“Please sir,” said Tommy, hesitatingly. “Perhaps he didn’t know the way home.”
62	MLADINSKI	LIST
“Juvenile” Puzzlers, Letter-Box, Etc.
Puzzle No. 2.
In the bottom of a well, 45 feet deep, there was a frog which commenced traveling toward the top. In his journey he ascended 3 feet every day, but fell back 2 feet every night. In how many days did he get out?
Answer to Puzzle No. 1.
Stone.
Honorable Mention to Puzzle No. 1. Louis Cainkar, Chicago, 111.
Elliel Turk, Nokomis, 111.
Tony Ocepek, Library, Pa.
Jennie Bohinc, Export, Pa.
Rudie Raspet, Delmond, Pa.
Paul Videgar, Nokomis, 111.
Justine Vessel, Gilbert, Minn.
John Kopach, Johnston, 111.
Gusta Alich, Wilburton, Okla.
Mary Volk, Springfield, 111 .
Mary Kuznik,Grayslake, 111.
Frank Bogatay, Mulberry, Kansas. Christine Ziegler, Masontown, Pa. Josephine Vidic, Roundup, Mont. Louis Zgonc, Chisholm, Minn.
John Debelak, Avella, Pa.
Mary Mesnaricli, Rritt, Iowa.
Daniel Obed, Avella, Pa.
Frank Kreffel, Indianapolis, Ind. Wilka Kuznik, Grayslake, 111.
Mary Kerhlikar, Auburn, 111.
Mary Oblack, Clinton, Ind.
Anna Erste, Cleveland, Ohio.
Mary Shular, Gross, Kansas.
Isabelle, Junko, Pittsburg, Kansas. Mary Nagode, Midway, Pa.
Letters from Our Young Readers.
Dear Editor:—I like the Mladinski list very much. I receive it every month. I can read Slovenian, but I can’t write in Slovenian yet. When the Ml. L. comes I leave my work or play and read it through without leaving it. My two sisters enjoy it as much as I do. We always wish it would come once a week.
Frances Vracher, Niles, Ohio.
Dear Editor:—I wish our Ml. L. would come every day instead of once a month. These winter days 1 have lots of time to read. I am always anxiously waiting for the next issue. It is indeed very interesting.
I am sure all Slovenian girls and boys are as much interested in our Mladinski List as I am.
Your friend,
Frank Lukan, Midway, Pa.
*	* *
Dear Editor:—I am very much pleased to read the Ml. L. I only wish it would come at least once a week. I am a pianist so 1 don’t get very much time to read, but the stories are so interesting that I always read them all as soon as I receive it. I can also read a little in Slovenian. But I have help from my mother sometimes to get the right meaning. I am thirteen years old and in the eigh grade.
Justine Vessel,	Gilbert,	Minn.
*	* ★	.
Dear Editor:—I’m kind of late	with	this
letter because I just received the January issue. I am much interested in learning the Slovenian grammar and I hope that I will soon be able to write in Slovenian. I am very glad that we get a larger issue.
Our	city	is	not	very	large,	but	we	have
three school	buildings,	two	public	and	one
high school, which I attend.
Jacob Istinic.h, East Palestine, Pa.
*	*	*
Dear Editor:—I enjoy reading the Ml. L. very much and I wish it would come once a week. I cannot read Slovenian very good but I read all of the other stories. This is the first time I am writing to you. My brothers read the Ml. L. also. They are nine, respectively, eleven years old. I am fourteen. My mother and father read me some of the children’s letters that art written in Slovenian.
Mari/ Mesnaricli, Britt, Iowa.
*	*	*
Dear Editor:—I am very proud to be a reader of our Mladinski List. I read the jokes in school to the class for public speak-
ing. All the boys and girls would be very much pleased if the Ml. L. would come twice a month. Everyone enjoys the stories, jokes and puzzles of this good magazine.
Annie Dimitz, Johnstown, Pa.
SIMPLE TRICK WITH PAPER STRIPS.
Cut from tissue paper of any color two strips about 20 inches long by half an inch wide. Fold or pleat one of the strips fan-fasliion, making the folds about two inches long. Crumple this strip into a compact ball and place it so that it can be grasped and held firmly between the bases of the thumb and forefinger of your left hand. You are now ready for the performance.
audience you insert the fingers of your right, take hold of an end of the folded strip and slowly draw it out to its full length. It will appear that the torn strip has been perfectly restored. With your right hand you finally pass the whole strip out for someone to examine it and as you do so you casually drop your left hand into your pocket and get rid of the torn pieces.
Very Irritating.
Paul—“Mamma, please make Ted stop teasing me.”
Mamma—“Didn’t he give you your choice of the two apples?”
Paul—“Yes, but he’s got two that are just the same size!”
Winter Sport.
Yai make a pretense of showing both hand quite empty but of course are careful Mtn the left hand holding the crumpled wad. The unfolded strip is exhibited and then(with everyone looking on) torn into shorilengths which you hold with your left and as one holds a hand of cards. Whil gently waving your hands you manage t release the crumpled strip and hold it teruorarily between two other fingers of the sue hand. Next the torn pieces are pressi and twisted into a tight wad and deftb slipped into the position formerly occujed by the whole strip.
Wii both wads still in the left hand, the ten pieces “palmed” between thumb and irefinger, you gaze intently into that handnd then with a knowing look at your
She Bore Up.
Aunt Ethel—“Well, Beatrice, were you very brave at the dentist’s?”
Beatrice—“Yes, auntie, I was.”
Aunt Ethel—“Then there’s the half-crown
I	promised you. And now tell me what he did to you.”
Beatrice—“He pulled out two of Willie’s teeth!”
Johnie didn’t do it.
Johnie and Willie were playing upstairs. Willie was the younger. Mother (who was sitting in the dining room) heard a noise and called out: “Johnie, you leave Willie alone!”
Johnie answered: “Mother, I didn’t hurt Willie. He bit his ear.”
/v. Y I \ ) fv/\ [
Practical Slovenian Grammar. I/
/ \
\
IV.
NOUNS.
(Continued.)
First Declension.
Pure Slovenian nouns of the First Declension regul4rly end, in the Nominative
Singularis, in		a, and are of the Feminine Gender. They are			declined as	follows:
		Singular		Dual	Plural	/
	N.	lipa a linden		lipi	lipe	V A /
	G.	lipe of a	linden	lip	lip	IV ' /
	D.	lipi to a	linden	lipama	lipam	m/
	A.	lipo a linden		lipi	lipe	1r-
	L.	pri lipi by a	linden	pri lipah	pri lipah« x	
	I.	z lipo with	a linden	z lipama	z lipami \ v	
	(Note: Slovenian has no article, and lipa may mean				' • ^ v \ either a linden oK Jhe	
linden; and in the Plural lindens or the lindens.)						Y
			Second Declension.			•
	The Second Declension includes two distinct classes,					
			1) Masculine Nouns.			
		Hard Stem		Weak Stem		
	S.	D.	PI.	S.	D.	Pl.
N.	rak	raka	raki	kraj	kraja	kraji
G.	raka	rakov	rakov	kraja	krajev	krajev
D.	raku	rakoma	rakom	kraju	krajema	krajen
A.	raka	raka	rake	kraj	kraj a	kraje
L.	pri raku	pri rakih	pri rakih	pri kraju	pri krajih	pri krajih
I.	z rakom	z rakoma	z raki	s krajem	s krajema	s kraj
			2) Neuter Nouns.			
N.	mesto	mesti	mesta	polje	polji	polja
G.	mesta	mest	mest	polja	polj	polj
D.	mestu	mestoma	mestom	polju	poljema	poljem
A.	mesto	mesti	mesta	polje	polji	polja
L.	pri mestu	pri mestih	pri mestih	pri polju	pri poljih	pri poih
I.	z mestom	z mestoma	z mesti	s poljem	s poljema	s polji
			Third Declension.			
N.	nit	niti	niti	kost	kosti	kosti
G.	niti	niti	niti	kosti	kosti	kosti
D.	niti	nitima	nitim	kosti	kostema	koster
A.	nit	niti	niti	kost	kosti	kosti
L.	pri niti	pri nitih	pri nitih	pri kosti	pri kosteh	pri kcteh
I.	z nitjo	z nitima	z nitimi	s kostjo	s kostema	s kostii
(To be continued.)
Š1
k