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St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, May 1878
Johnny's Lost Ball
by Lloyd Wyman
Johnny had a silver dollar.
Johnny also had a good friend in the schoolmaster who, in various ways, had so interested the boy in natural philosophy that he desired of all things to possess a book on the subject, that he might study for himself.
Therefore, on the very first spare afternoon Johnny had, he rolled up his silver dollar in many folds of paper, tucked it snugly away in a lonesome corner of an old castaway pocket-book, and started for the village book-store; but, when he found the many nicely bound volumes too dear for his pocket, he choked, and nearly cried for disappointment.
"Hold on!" said the book-seller, as he slipped his lead-pencil behind his ear, and stepped briskly to a little shelf of rusty-looking books.
"Here are some second-hand copies of Comstock, Parker and Steele, any of which you can have for seventy-five cents,—have your pick for six shillings. Comstock and Parker are in the best repair, and are finer print; but for me, give me Steele! In buying second-hand books, always choose the banged-up fellows. Comstock and Parker tell everything that everybody knows or guesses. Steele biles his'n down. But do just as you've a mind to: it wont make a bit o' difference to me one way or the other."
Johnny took Steele, handed over his dollar, and received twenty-five cents in change.
Before the money was fairly stowed away in his wallet his eye fell upon a beautiful rubber ball, painted in various brilliant colors, which lay in the show case. The book-seller tossed it upon the clean-swept floor, and up it bounded to the ceiling.
"The last of the lot," said he; "filled with air; that's why it bounces so; been selling at thirty cents; will close this out at twenty-five; every boy ought to have one; children cry for 'em; just the thing for 'hand-ball,'—what d' y' say?"
"I'll take it," said Johnny; and he took his book and ball and hurried home, "dead broke" financially, but happy, nevertheless.
Being open-hearted, he told his folks about his purchase, and they were inclined to find fault with him, though I do not know why. He seemed never to tire of his book and ball, but would change from one to the other, and for some days was as happy as a king is supposed to be.
Then came his bad luck.
He was tossing his ball upon the roof of the house, and catching it as it came down; but by and by it did not come down—it bounded into the tin eave-trough and rolled slowly along till it came to the big pipe that led to the cistern, and into this it dropped, and went whirring down, and stopped somewhere with a faint plash.
For once in his life, Johnny felt as if the world had slipped from under him.
For a few minutes he was bewildered; then came the joyful assurance that his Steele would help him out of his trouble, and if Steele couldn't, there was the schoolmaster.
The first thing he did was to lift the cover off the cistern, though he knew well enough the ball was in the pipe, as he well remembered that it ran nearly to the bottom of the cistern and then made a sharp bend upward, "so that the water mightn't wear the cement," the mason told him.
He found the water quite low, but not low enough to show the mouth of the pipe. Of course, there was no ball in sight. He closed the cistern with a groan, and got out his new book on natural philosophy. First he glanced at optics; but that did not help him to see his way; then at hydrostatics and hydraulics.
It was of no use; nothing seemed to hit the case. Then he gave it up, put his book away, and went to consult the school-master. Johnny found him among his books, and told him all about it.
"Have you tried to fish it out with a hook and line?"
Johnny's face brightened. "No, sir, I never thought of that."
"All right; you couldn't do it. Besides, if you could, it wouldn't be scientific," said the school-master. "Now, go home, take a ten-foot pole, and measure the distance from the eaves to the water in the cistern, then find the diameter of the pipe, and on my way to school to-morrow morning I will tell you the three things necessary for recovering your ball."
Johnny fairly flew home, got a pole, measured the distance from eaves to water and found it to be twelve feet; measured the pipe and found it to be two inches and one-half. Then he put away the pole, did his chores, ate a hearty supper, and went to bed.
He was up bright and early next morning, and got quickly through his chores, so that when the school-master stopped, on his way to school, he was ready to see about the ball.
"Good morning, Johnny! Glad to see you on hand. How long's the pipe?"
"Twelve feet, sir."
"Diameter?"
"Two inches and a half, sir."
"Ah! 2-1/2 square multiplied by .0034, and that product by twelve feet, which is—"
"144 inches," Johnny quickly suggested.
"Will give the contents of the pipe in gallons," added the schoolmaster. "You're quick at figures, tell me the answer."
Johnny groped among the odds and ends of his jacket pocket for a minute, and then fished out a stubby lead-pencil, much chewed at one end, and picking up a piece of smooth board, ciphered away swiftly and carefully a few moments.
"3.06 is what I make it, sir."
"Very well; we'll call that right; that would be a little over a pailful—say a pailful and a half. Now get a ladder to go up to the roof with."
Johnny brought one in a jiffy.
"All right. Now, the three things necessary to get back your ball are, a pailful and a half of water, a plug, and pluck."
Johnny looked as if he didn't quite understand.
"What sort of a plug, sir?" he asked.
"Oh, this will do," answered the school-master, picking up a pine stick and beginning to whittle away vigorously. The plug was soon made. The school-master lifted the plank cover from the cistern put the ladder down, and said to Johnny: "Have you any pluck?"
"Lots of it," Johnny told him.
"Well, then, take this plug and stick it into the mouth of the pipe, snug."
Johnny took the plug, went down the ladder into the cistern till he reached the water, and then began feeling around for the pipe. By and by he found it, and, inserting the plug in the opening, pushed it down and screwed it firmly in place.
"All right!" he called out, and presently he came up the ladder.
"Now let's have the water—in two pails," the schoolmaster said, and he saw by Johnny's face that he at last understood how the ball was to be got out. Johnny ran to the barn, and soon came back with two pails of water and a funnel.
"But what's the funnel for?" asked the schoolmaster as he drew the ladder from the cistern and leaned it against the eaves.
"To pour the water into the pipe," answered Johnny, in a tone that showed that he thought he had, for once, caught the school-master napping.
"Ah, indeed! so you always put the funnel in when it rains?"
Johnny blushed, and did not attempt any answer.
"Now mount the ladder, and I'll hand you the water," said the school-master.
Johnny ran up the ladder, and, when the school-master handed him the pails, he said nothing about the funnel, but boldly dashed the water upon the roof. When the flood began pouring into the cave-trough and gurgling down the pipe, Johnny fixed his eyes upon the hole through which his ball had taken its unlucky leap, and stared with anxious expectation. The gurgle in the pipe crept steadily upward, the tone all the while growing higher and clearer, till whish! came a dash of water over the trough, nearly drenching the schoolmaster while the ball bounded airily upon the eaves for an instant, before Johnny caught it and cried out:
"Here she is!"
"Put things in shape, Johnny; I must hurry to the school-house," said the school-master, going.
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