Part 1 (1/2)
Sure Pop and the Safety Scouts.
by Roy Rutherford Bailey.
INTRODUCTION
SAFETY FIRST--THE PREVENTION OF ACCIDENTS
AMERICANS are realizing the need for preventing accidents. The general conservation and efficiency movements and the Workmen's Compensation Laws first directed the attention of employers to the needless waste of human life. The discovery that by the safeguarding of machinery and the education of workmen ninety per cent of the industrial accidents could be prevented, has proved the value of educational methods in Public Safety work, and the Safety activities of public officials, trade organizations, public schools, churches, and other agencies have been directed toward the prevention of accidents on the street, in public places, and in homes. Every phase of human life is affected by accidents, and their elimination means saving human life and the avoidance of dest.i.tution and misery.
The National Safety Council realizes the importance of educating school children in the principles of Safety; for they will be the future industrial workers and the representatives of public opinion; their interest must be aroused to practice and preach ”Safety First”
everywhere. Children can be taught to become alert to their own safety, and can influence their parents to a deeper realization of their responsibilities.
The National Safety Council has directed the preparation of this book and hopes that through its pages children will be brought to realize the manliness of caution, the importance of courtesy and consideration; that, in short, the Safety way is simply the right way of doing things; and that the efficiency, comfort, and happiness of many individuals will be increased by the practicing day in and day out of ”Safety First.”
R. W. CAMPBELL _President National Safety Council_
_You have no right to take a chance; some one else may have to take the consequences._ --COLONEL SURE POP
SURE POP AND THE SAFETY SCOUTS
ADVENTURE NUMBER ONE
BOB THIRSTS FOR ADVENTURE AND GETS IT
”Bully for Uncle Jack!” cried Bob, a stalwart lad just on the edge of twelve, excitedly waving a letter with a South American postmark. ”What wouldn't I give to be with him on his exploring trips! Here, Betty, listen to this part about their fight with the natives!”
”Oh, don't, please!” said his twin, clapping both hands over her ears, but listening just the same. ”I'm always so afraid Uncle Jack will get killed.”
”Uncle Jack get killed? Hardly! Just listen to what he says:
”'This last scrimmage was one of the liveliest I've ever been up against. The warlike up-river tribes, it seems, mistook our native scouts for a war party and lay in ambush for us. Might have been worse, though. Our losses were two men killed and seven wounded--but of course that's only a fraction of what you wound and kill every day back there in the States.'”
”Why, what does he mean by that?” wondered Betty. ”There's no war going on in this country, is there?”
”Not that I know of.” Even Brother Bob looked puzzled for a moment. ”No Indians left to fight! But say, Betty, Uncle Jack's life is just fairly dripping with adventure! Think of it--every day chock-full of thrills and narrow escapes--and adventures every time he turns around! Well, it won't be many years now before I can be a scout and explorer myself.”
A yell from their playmates outside brought the twins to the street in a hurry. Bob's legs were longer, but Betty, quick as a cat, got there first.
”You're it, Bob!” ”Bob's last, so he's it!” Like a band of savages the screeching boys and girls scuttled across the car tracks and around the corners, while Bob counted up to five hundred ”by fives.”
”Four hundr' nine' five, FIVE HUNDRED!” yelled Bob, and started to dash across the tracks, for he had caught a glimpse of Jimmy West's new red boots disappearing under his grandmother's porch across the street. The sound of the wind in his ears as he ran drowned out the roar of the coming street car, and of course he had eyes only for those tell-tale red boots.
Another jump and Bob would have been under the wheels--but a strong little hand on his shoulder stopped him. The street car roared by with a startled clang of its gong, for the motorman had seen Bob too late to throw off the power.
Bob gasped in relief--then whirled around to see what had stopped him.