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Show '6Y r fill Pi w Dear Nephews and Xieoes: Next Sunday we celebrate the feast of our lilessed Savior's resurrection. The feast of Easter is the image of heaven, dear boys and. girls. The alleluias sung on this day are hut the faint notes of the songs of niadness we hope to one day sins forever. for-ever. Let us all try to be found worthy to celebrate this glorious day; not only this Kaster, but all the Easter tides that may come in our lives. Let us do j aJl the g-ood that we can; not stand waiting- for some great thing To do, but some little thing, particularly some little kindness. Life will be very serious seri-ous for you pome day, dear young people: our words and deeds will be remembered long after we are gone. You who are only beginning your lives must think of what your own way of living will oring to you, if your lives are to be happy. Happiness, dear children, chil-dren, only comes from doing your duty. Disobedience at home, and "in school will not make you happy; idleness, un- Kinciness. Dad manners, no kind of wrong doing can make you happy. Think of this every day and see how true it is. I-Jut this is enough of a lecture. lec-ture. How serious old Aunt Busy is getting: A bright, happy Easter, dear boys and girls, is the loving wish of vour AUNT BUST. Salt Lake City, March 26, 1900. Dear Aunt Busy: I have not written you a letter for so long that I thought it was time now. I was 10 years old the Sth of this month, and I had a party. Tt was not a large one, but I enjoyed it just as much. I g.t a book for a present, and a cup and saucer, a salt and pepper set and another cud and saucer. I was sick The Sunday before la?t and could not gn to cnurcn nor to school that week till Thursday. I will close my letter now. for it is getting late. From your loving niece, ORA MeDKRMOTT. Aunt Busy is delighted to hear from her little niece Ora once more. She thought she was forgotten. Aunt Busy is sorry to know you were ill. So you had a birthday party! Poor Aunt Busy is too old to have birthday parties any more. Is that not a pity? Tark City. Utah, March 30. 1900. Dear Aunt Busy: We take the Intermountain Catholic, and as so many little boy? and girls are writing to you, I thought I would do so, too. I am 12 years old and go to St. Mary's School. I made my first communion on last All Saints' Day. The little boys and girls in Park City have lots of fun in the winter, when there is so much snow, the coasting is just splendid. I do not think Park City would be a very good place for bicycles, as there are so many hills here, but we manage to have a good time even if we do not enjoy the fun of bicycle riding. rid-ing. Promising you that you will hear from me again some time, I remain, your loving niece, LULTJ KELLY. You are welcome, little niece from Park City. Aunt Busy was thinking of writing a letter to her boys and cirls in Park soon. You write a nice hand. Write soon again. Park City, Utah, March 31. 1P00. Dear Aunt I Susy: I read The Intermountain Catholic rvery week, and. I like especially to read the letters from all my cousins who write to you. I do not see many from the Park, so I thought perhaps you would like to hear from time to time how your little nie-ces here are gttine: along. I attend St. Mary's F'hool and I have been attending the lv-nten devotions) nearly every Wednesday Wednes-day and Friday evenings during Lent. We have lovely weather up here, but there if a great amount of snow yet on the mountains. As this i? my first letter to you, I will rot make it too long. Your loving niece, FLORA CROSSMAN. You are also a welcome little niece from Park City. Aunt Bufv has often wondered if she had many nephews and nieces up there. For the future M-ite often. You write a good hand. Park City. Utah, March 26th, 1900. Dear Aunt Busv: We take the Intermoutain Catholic and I like to read the boys and girls page. I read the letter to Aunt Busy I go to St. Mary's school here. I love mv teacher verv much; her name is Sifter Gabriel. I am well, hoping my tier will find you well also, write soon. Your loving nephew. A LB K I IT KELLY, aged 10 years. Aunt Hue- is delighted to hear from vou Albeit. Thanks for your kirdly in"r.tion of the paper. Aunt Buy is pleased to hear that you love your teacher. Write soon again. Sail Iake City, AH Hallow's March 31, 1S00. Dear Aunt Busy: 1 thought I would write you a few lines to let you know I am well, hoping you are well. too. J go to All Hallow ; college and 1 am at the head of 'my class. I like very much to go to school, . our teacher i going to give a prize to j the best boy in our clais-j at the end of school. 1 am going to try hard to get it. 1 uvjrt make this letter short as I have my leesons to study, to good bye, , vour Joving nephew, j DONALD MORRISON, j Aunt Busy is very well thank you. "Write to Aunt Busy and tell her about that vv'izc She hopes- you will win J it. Try to keep at the head of the claep, Donald. You have a nice name, and : you are a good boy to like your school. Salt Lake City, Utah, April 3, 1900. j Dear Aunt Busy: ; I thought I would write to you. I ere : by the paper you have so many nieces. I thought maybe you would wan't ' another. I am a pretty good girl. My dear playmate Ora was telling me ail : about you. I was 11 years old April Fool's day and I had a little birthday party arid 1 wish you were there. If you don't know me I will refer you to j dear Father Morritsey. Good bye, your loving niece. I MARY L. HALLORAN. Indeed, Auut Busy does want an other niece. She wants all the nieces in the country. Aunt Busy was more than pleased to hear that vou know dear Father Morrisey. whom all the children chil-dren loved. And you know Ora McDer-mott? McDer-mott? She is one of Aunt Busy's first ! dear little nieces and now you are another. an-other. Aunt Busy ia sure you are a good girl. .T- All Hallow's College, Salt Lake City. March SI, 300. Dear Aunt Busy: As I eaw come letters from Ogden boys in the Intermountain Catholic, I ! thought I would write to you. aleo I am ' at the head of my class and intend to ; stay there. I am working hard for the medal. I like to go to school here very much. I would tell you about the games I me play but my letter would be too 1 long. Hoping to see this in print I remain, your loving nephew. WILLIAM CARR. You must write again and tell abnut your games. Aunt Busy hopes to hear that you won the medal. So you like All Hallows! Well all the boys should. Aunt Busy often wishes she were a boy, ao she could go to your school. Ogden, Utah, March 30, ivw. Dear Aunt Busy: Robert Dorsey asked about a month ago for my address. I live on Twenty-eighth Twenty-eighth street. No. 370. I would love to get a letter from Robert Dorsey. We have the same teacher we had when Robert Dorsey was here and she often speaku of him. I wish Nellie Dorsey would write a letter in your paper. We always love to hear from our old Og- j den friends. I am glad the Dorsey boys remember Father Cushnahan and Mr. Jennings. That is right, boys, we must never forget our old friends. I would ! like to know if Nellie Dorsey remem- bers her old friends at St. Joseph's ' school. I remember when she moved j away from svhool she got so lonesome j that she had to come back and we had ! a great laugh at her. I would like I Robert Dorsey' address as 1 know many of his old friends would love to write him. Aunt Busy, I hope we boys do not tire you. Love to all. Your everlasting ever-lasting nephew, CORNELUS DEAN. 370, 2Sth Street. Dear everlasting nephew. Aunt Busy heard a short time ago that you would write her soon and .-he has been expecting expect-ing your letter. Perhaps Nellie Dorsey Dor-sey will write when, she sees this letter. let-ter. Aunt Busy never will tire hearing from boys and girls, and you know she particularly loves her Ogden boys, because be-cause they were the first nephews to think about her. THE HOLIDAY OF A JAPANESE GIEL. Rosebud was a little Japanese girl. Her parents had "named her that because be-cause they had thought her such a sweet baby, and she really was, for never once was she known to cry as nurse carried her about on her back. Rather a queer place for this baby Rosebud, but she enjoyed it greatly and would laugh and coo while carried about in this" fashion. As Rosebud grew up she was- even more than ever a household pet. Every kind of a toy wa given her to play with, while her father and mother never tired telling her pretty storiea about the time when they were young. But the happiest day that ever came to Rosebud was the 3d of March. This Is a holiday for little girls in Japan which has been kept for hundreds of years. On this day the young daughters of the household place upon something that looks like a table two dolls to represent rep-resent the Emperor and Empress. Rosebud's mother had helped to dresg these dolls, and when their garments-were garments-were all done, the little girl said, "How strange these dolls look. Do our em- j peror and his wife reaily wear such clothes?" "Not now," answered the mother, "but this is the manner in which the Emperor and Empress used- to live long, long ago. We would not know how they did dress if it were not for this holiday, that, by means of the dolls, show us the costumes of old times." "Did j'ou have a holiday like this when you were .a little girl?" aswer Rosebud, looking up from the floor where she was sitting. "I did, so did my mother before me, and her mother before her. The dolls which you are dressing now are the very ones I played with, and my mother moth-er played with them also. Her mother gave them to her for being a good girl." "I am glad to know that." said Rose-jbud; Rose-jbud; "now I shall like these dolls all the better." I Rosebud now put the dolls in their ' proper places upon, what, as I said be-j be-j fore, looked' like a table. This had j many steps, and the child climbed them i very carefully. Upon (his was a very ) small table, and on this Rosebud had put pretty Japanese dishes the very daintiest of plates and cups. Then her mother brought in some food and Rosebud put this in the dishes and had one of the nicest of feasts. That night when she went to bed ahe paid to her mother, "I never knew it was so nice playing with a doll emperor and empress. I would 7-ather do that than be Empress myself, and the missionary, mis-sionary, that you let me go to hear last Week, said that when we do our best we are just as good as anybody in the land, so I shall try to be just as nice as if I were Empress." Rosebud kept her word, and from that day to this she has been one of the most unselfish, lovable little girls in all Japan. DONT'S FOB, GIRLS. Don't tattle: don't act as if you thought the dress made the lady; don't ( how that you think yourself the prettiest girl in the world; don't imagine im-agine yourself to be superior to other girls because you happen to be dreaded better than they or because your, parents par-ents are richer than theirs; don't find fault with everybody and everything; don't allow boys to make "too free" with you; don't act or talk merely to attract attention; don't be loud or boisterous or given, to silly giggling; don't sit round and play little lady when you ought to be taking healthful recreation, and, above all, don't have any secrets which you dare not share with your mother. , A ROY OF HIS SIZE. There is no better or truer instinct than that which makes it impossible for a boy to stand by in silence and see a small mate abused by an older one. It invariably indicates a cowardly spirit on the part of the one who always "picks on" a boy smaller than himself, and the big fellow never gets or deserves de-serves any sympathy when he comes to grief through his failure to choose "one of his size" when he wants to fight. Ten or twenty schoolboys were on their way to school in an Eastern city, one day recently, when a boy of 16 among them began to tease a little fellow of perhaps 12 years. Suddenly the annoyed smaller boy threw an apple core at his tormentor, whereupon the big boy assailed the little fellow brutally, saying: "I'll let you know that you can't throw apple cores at me! You take that!" The little fellow shrieked with pain, but he could contend but feebly against his far larger and stronger assailant, and none of his schoolmates offered to go to his relief. Leaning against a lamppost up the street was a. typical street gamin, ragged rag-ged and unkempt, and far removed from the tidy, well fed and well dressed schoolboys. Their life-ways were far apart. A bundle of newspapers he had been unable to sell was under his arm, and he seemed to be looking about for a customer. Suddenly he let the unsold papers drop to the snowy ground and came running lightly and swiftly down the street, his blue eyes aflame and his grimy fists clenched. The next instant the big. well dressed assailant of the I small boy found himself seized by the j collar and jerked violently to the I ground by a boy of about his own size, who said, boldly: "Take a kid o yer size when ye want ter fight, ye big coward! Take a kid V yer size! Touch that little kid again, if ye dare!" The big fellow struggled to his feet, and said, blusteringly. "Who's going to ; keep me from touching him if I want to?" "I am!" said the gamin, standing as erect as a West Point cadet; and. whipping whip-ping off his ragged jacket, he gave his head a toss and said asm in: "I am goin to see that you don't touch him agin! If you want to fight, take a kid o' yer size, I tell ye! Try-yes Try-yes hand on me!" "Mumph!" said the big fellow, without, with-out, however, offering to. touch the "kid of his size." "Yer a coward, that's what you are!" said the gamin. "Ye don't dare touch a kid o' yer size!" Nor did he. Mumblin and theaten-ing, theaten-ing, he walked off, with the jeers of his schoolmates ringing in his ears. The street gamin went on his way also, unconscious, perhaps, of the fact that, in his bold defence of the weak against the strong, he had manfested a kind of heroism all too rare among the the boys of the world. J. L. Harbour. EASTER. MORN-. On silent wines has flown the gloom of nisrht. And lo! in yon gray Orient sky there eleams A radiant Star, the glory of whose beams Falls on the slumbering earth in shafts of litrlit. Far up to cloud-worlds soar the birds in fleht. While downward rapturous liquid music streams From feathered throats, like carols heard in dreams As in the depth of blue they fade from sieht. 'Tis Easter morn; the chiming of sweet bells On zephyr-wines floats over bill and dale. And o er world-weary hearts a glad- - ness throws ' As of that dawn, in ages past, it tells When on the tomb, the Star of morn j shone pale, And Christ, the Lord, the Prince of Peace, arose! 4 ANNA O'BRIEN. J St. Mary's Academy, Class '00. J J THE REASON WHY. (By Montrose -J. Moses.) The bis: boys wouldn't play with me; " Thev said I was too small That thev would have to wait and see If I trrew stronsr and tall And when thev had their club at school, Thev all began to crin. 4 And said that they had made a rule To let no small boys in. " But when the holidays brought Jim From colleee for a wek. The bifc- boys came to call on him And listen to him speak. He told them of the football game j I Where. In an awful cruh. J He slipped, and for ten days was lame 4 He played at center rush; 4 He told them of the record jump j He beat a Yale man in; He let them feel the dreadful lump 4 The ball made on his shin, - He showed his muscles all in play, He raised a heavy weight. " 4 And looked to see what they would say 4 I know they thought it great. . Thev saw his college pins and flags, 4 Thev saw his football suit; 4 They opened wide his traveling bag, , And thought his cap a "beaut." " They saw his yellow sweater there, 4 A picture of the "syra."; . They liked the way he wore his hair, 4 And every one liked him. So now the bis: boys notice me. And, in some way or other. They let me join their club, you see, Because I'm Jim's own brother. St. Nicholas. TAKE UP THE CROSS. Take up the Cross, take up the Cross, It leadeth to a Crown: . It is the path that Saints have trod. It is the Saviour's own. Take ud the Cross, take up the Cross, Nor heed its weight or length. For He who hied and died thereon Will give you grace and strength. Take up the Cross,- take up the Cross, Embrace the Thorny Crown, These are the badges Jesus gives To those He calls "His own." PUT-OFF TOWN". Did you ever go to Put-Off Town, Where ihe houses are old and tumbledown, tumble-down, And everything tarries, and everything drags. With its dirty streets and people In rags? On the street of Slow lives Old Man Wait, And his two little boys, named Linger. and Late; With unclean hands and tousled hair. And a naughty little sister, named Don't Care. Grandmother Growl lives in this town With her two little daughters, called Fret and Frown; And Old Man Lazy lives all alone Around the corner on Street Postpone. Did you ever go to Put-Olt Town To play with the little girls Fret and Frown, Or. go to the home of O'd Man Wait And whistle for his boys, to come to' the gate; To play all day in Tarrv Street, Leaving your errands for other feet' To stop, or shirk, or linger, or frown Is the nearest way to this old town.' THE CHILD OF WARY. Long, long ago, when the faith was pure and strong throughout England, a little Kirl tended her nheep In the green meadows mead-ows and amoncst. the shadows of a wood. She was poor and ignorant, but God had taught her to pray, and had given her a vearniner. tender love for His Blessed Mother. Her great longing was to visit some of the shrines of Mary. She had heard of these from people who had talked to her, and once a pilgrim passing through the villaere had told the orphan girl of the litle house in which the Holy Family had lived on earth of its bands of pilgrims and the costly jdfts they made, of the waxen lights and brilliant jewels round the e-olden shrine. Then the little girl confided con-fided her trouble to the Pilgrim that she could not see that Holy Mother; that she could not even linger in the old church in the valley, because it was so far away; and the old man. as he listened, smiled upon her and pave her an image of the Blessed Virgin and Child. "See, my daughter." he said, "I will fix this for you in the trunk of this old tree. This must be your shrine and here you can prav to vour Holy Mother." The little maiden was delighted, and it became her daily care to deck the image eavlv. True, she had no offering of gold 1 and gems; but she found the fairest tlow-! tlow-! ers of the meadows, and briar-roses of Pure pale tint from the hedgerows to twine round the humble shrine of her Queen: and even in winter she could make it wreaths of evergreen and hollv. This girl had neither parents nor friends and so she made a humble cot under the spreading branches of the old oak. and here she dwelt in poverty and want, un-thoueht un-thoueht of. uncared for, hut by God. At length the priest, lrom the distant village vil-lage was summoned to the dwelling of the shepherd maiden, for the people found her ill and near to death. But when he reached the door he paused in silent won- 1 der, for a lady stood by the lonely bedside, bed-side, fair, majestic, with a band of costly urema round her forehead and a blue mantle man-tle covering her figure. With the gentle care of a mother she bent over the girl, wiping the clew of death from her forehead; fore-head; pressing her lips on the cold, thin cheek, speaking to her in words whose sweet tone the priest had never heard or imagined before. "See. mv child." said this lovely visitor, "the Driest is here, bringing thy Jesus to the. He will bear thee safely home." Then the priest entered the hut. Trembling Tremb-ling and on his knees he heard the last confession of the dying girl, and the lady raised her in her arms while sweet strains of angel music filled the humble dwelling, because the Lord of Heaven had entered there. He has come to His suffering f child. He rests in her heart, and the angel music sinks into taint, sighing whispers. One glance of unspeakable love, of unimaginable unim-aginable longing, and the spirit of the shepherd girl has fled. The gooil priest is kneeling there all alone now. the radiant, queenly form is no longer by the bedside, and yet the angel an-gel voices are singing, and yet a sweet fragrance lingers round the straw pallet. Then a soft voice whispered: "Tell this vision which you have seen. Tell it. that ' men's hearts mav be moved to love. Say I that none who call upon Mary shall die ' unaided. Say she is a mother who will be ! alwavs with her children in their need." 1 So the good father told his story for many a mile around, and the faith and love of the people caused them to build a little chapel (in the consecrated spot, within which for many a year an oak tree might be seen with an image of Our Lady in its hollow trunk wreathed with flowers and green leaves. |