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Show i3SlKio.TEo by-Aunt Bu" , Dear Nephews and Nieces: Who can romplain that Aunt TSusy ls neglected nowadays? Why, Aunt Busy has all that Fhe can do to make room for thi? new nihevs and niece?, and hardly has a chance to get a word tn at .all. But she is pi ad and happy to welcome ell the newcomers, and wants them to write often. Come along:, nephews and nieces, old and new, and tell us everything- you can think of some curious thing- you have seen, eome story you have heard, your progress in school, your hopes for the future-; in fact, everything that you know and feel is interesting. Aunt Busy has some great news, to tell you this week. The building in which the Intermourrtain is published nearly burned down last Sunday afternoon. after-noon. When Aunt Busy saw the fire, she just ran as hard a she could to the olliee and rescued all the letters from her nephews and nieces, otherwise other-wise there would have been no letters in this week. Now, just imagine poor oil Aunt Buay running! She would not have lost your letters for any i,ind of a tire. Good-bye, dear nephews and uiaees; write soon to Aunt Busy. Salt Lake City Utah. March 24, 1900. Dear Aunt Buey I intended to write to you long ago, nut I forgot to write you before, tfo 1 am writing to you now. I go to the Wasatch echool; my teacher's name is Mis Seholes. I think she is lovely. I am in room four. I am-10 am-10 vtrs old. I go to choir practice every SaUvday. I have a big sister, her name is, Genevieve, Gene-vieve, and a brother; his name is Harry. Har-ry. I have a little baby sieter; her name Is Orielia. She i 3 years old, and a little brother Charlie; he is S years old. vroni your loving neice. It EG IN A BROOKS. Aunt Busy is very pleased to hear fro?n you. You write a beautiful hand and you have a beautiful name. Aunt Busy loves to have you write so nicely of your teachers. You are a good child, Kegina, , -r Colorado Springs, Colo., March 13, lwO. Dear Aunt Busy: . I am seven yeare old and go to school. I am in the high first. 1 like my teacher very much. ' have two little filters. My papa d;ed and my mamma said I can have a dog when I am big en ugh to build a dog house, and I help my mamma mam-ma to work. Live to Aunt f'.uy. CHARLES D. BROWN. Aunt Busy is delighted to find another an-other Colorado nephew. She has some line nephews in that beautiful Plate. Bevery good to your mamma, Charles. No a- that papa has gone to heaven, you must be a man and take care of her. Cripple Creek. March 18, 1900. Dear Aunt Busy: J. do not see any letters from Cripple Creek, so 1 will write you one. I run down to meet the postman the day our paper ir? due. 1 read all the letters ard enjoy them very much. I am 10 years old and in the fifth grade. I hf.ve a sweet little magpie, who can say good morning and bellow. As this is "my first letter, I will not write too much. Good-bye, from your loving niece, MARY PEARL, COLLINS. You are welcome, dear little niece from Cripple Creek. Aunt Busy thanks you for writing so nicely about the pa-ier. pa-ier. Write soon again. Ogden. Utah, March 27, 1?00. Dear Aunt Buey: T , A e 4,1,-1 T rrn tn t Vl n ?1 prpd Heart Academy, and am in the third grade. My studies are cathechif--m, geography, spelling, grammar, arithmetic arith-metic and dictation. 1 like cathechiem and arithmetic best. I make a vkU to the blessed sacrament every evening. I like to rfad the children'.0 page in the Intermountain Catholic. As it is getting get-ting late. I will close for the present. From your loving nephew, JOHN P. M ' LAUGH LI N. A new nephew from Ogden! And, of course, he is a good one or he would not be an Ogden boy. Don't forget a prayer for Aunt P.usy-.metimes. She hopes more nephews do as you do about your visit Salt Lake City, Utah, March 26, 1P00. Dear aunt Busy: I am a little girl nine years old. i rro to the Sifters school in Salt Lake citv, -I belong to the Holy Angels So'ialitv. I have wanted to write to v.,,i fur a long time, you are such a d,;:r aunt Busy. I have a brother 7 je:;rs old. Good-bv. Your loving niece NORA CRAWFORD. You are as welcome little Nora, as the May (lowers that will soon be here. Aura :ut-y hopes you will write often ?nd many more of the Holy Angels Sodality. Love from your Aunt Busy. Ogdon,- iUtah, Mar. 21, 1900. Dear Aunt Busy: I have been chosen by the boys of St. Joseph's' school to write you a letter, and thank you in their name for the -harming compliments you gave the Osden boys you certainly are the loveliest of Aunts. The boys think you are grand and wish you would I'um? and live in Ogden. We would build a house near St. Joseph school for you and Uncle Busy. I am .pure you both would enjoy some of our wild pranks. You asked what was the matter with the Ogden nieces. I guess thc-y are jealous but we don't are and you don't need to care either. The love of your Ogden Nephews is , lots warmer and more lasting than that of the Ogden nieces. I don't believe be-lieve those nieces have a bit of love for anybody. Love from all your Ogden Nephews your loving Nephew, STEPHEN KEOGH, P. S. Cornelius Dean will write you next week. Aunt But-y was very touched and grateful to read the lovely letter containing con-taining such kindly words from her dear Ogden boys. Her Ogden gentlemen, gentle-men, she always calls you. Always pay kind sweet things boys all your lives, and you will help to make this world bright and lovely. You write a beautiful letter. Stephen. Don't you know Aunt Busy docs feel slighted over the way her Ogden nieces treat her. t-h buss one 43vaj- litllo, -nior-a Jn.ich up there. Don't you think you bovs could induce them to do better. Don't forget Aunt Busy dear Ogden boys. Aunt Busy thanks you for your love, and sends hers in return. Manitou. Colo., March 24, 1900. Dear Aunt Busy: I have read your letters in the Intermountain Inter-mountain Catholic, but have never seen any from your Manitou nieces or nephews. neph-ews. 1 am 9 years old and go to fchool. I have a brother IS years old in the Phillippine Islands. His name i Albert Baratte. I have a pet cat. He is a maltose and his name is Dew-I Dew-I ey. I have two sisters they are older than I am. 1 have got the mumps and my sister has- also. Well this letter is long so I will close. Your loving nephew LAURENCE BARATTE. Aunt Rusy is, glad to welcome a nephew from Manitou. Write ofte.-and ofte.-and tell us some news of that brave young soldier in the Philippines. Aunt Busy will send him a copy of this paper pa-per if you send his address soon to her. Hurrah for Dewey! Hope your mumps will be better soon. "Welcome the Coming, Speed the Parting Guest." Boy is building a castle tall. Bronze curls are bobbing and blue eyes shine: Tat hands steady the tottering wall; Busy, so busy, this boy of mine. Presently comes a ring at the -door. Boy jumps Up from his play at the sound; Down ko the blocks with a crash to the floor; Boy's in the hall with a shout and a bound. Brightly he welcomes the coming guest; Says with a manner all hearts to win, Smiling his broadest and bowing his best, "Please walk right in, Mrs. Smif, walk in. ' Then back to his blocks and his castle tall, BroP7 curls bobbing and blue eyes ashine. Fat han.i.s oiiilding the mighty wall; ""iJ Busy, to busy, this boy of mine. Soon as the visitor rises to go, Play is forgotten and Boy is at hand; Rushes ahead to the door below. Opens it wide and takes his stand, Smiling as radiantly as before. Waving his hand "with a merrv shout, s the visitor passes through the door, "Please go right out, Mrs. Smif, go out." Let Us Gather Up the Sunbeams. (Old Favorite Series.) Let us gather up the sunbeams Lying nil around our path; Let us keep the wheat and roses, Casting out the thorns and chaif; Let us rind our sweetest comfort Jn the blessings of todav. With a patient hand removing Ail the briars from the way. Strange, we never prize the music Tiil the sweet-voiced bird has flown; Strange, that we should slight the violets Tiil the lovely flowers are gone. Strange, that summer skies and sunshine Never seem one-half so fair As when winter's snowy pinions Shake the white clown in the air. Jf we knew the baby fingers Press'd against he window pane, U ould be cold and stiff tomorrow, Never trouble us again; Would the bright eyes of our darling Catch the frown upon our brow? Would the print of rosy fingers Vex us then as they "do now? Ah. those little ice cold fingers, Itow they point our memories back To the hasty words and actions Strewn along our backward track. How those little hands remind us, As in snowy grace they lie. Not to .scatter thorns but roses For our reaping bye and bye. "Why Cats Wash After Eating. You may have noticed, .little friends, That cats don't wash their faces Before they eat, as children do, In all good Christian places. Well, years ago, a famous cat, The pangs of hunger iceling. Had chanced to catch a line young mouse Who said as he ceased squealing: "All genteel folks their faces wash "Before they think of eating." And, wishing to be thought well bred. Puss heeded his entreating. But when she raised her paw to wash. Chance for escape affording, The sly young mouse said his goodby Without respect to wording. A feline council met that day And passed in solemn meeting A law forbidding: any cat To wash till alter eating. A Wise little Mouse. A wise litle mouse Came out of his house Through a small round hole for a door; Jlis little eyes blinked, And he winked and winked. And he winked and he blinked some more, "There's milk and there's bread," He to himself said, "And honey that's made by the bees; There's coffee and tea, . But, better for me, There's plenty of crackers and cheese. "I ll nibble at both." i And then, nothing loath, To nibble at both he began, When he cried. "What's that? My stars, 'tis a cat!" And away like a flash he ran. ,A nd this litle mouse Ran into his house Through the wee small hole for a door, Then said to the cat, "I know here you're at. And I shan't come out any more." Lullaby. O, Mary Mother! if the day we trod In converse sweet, the lily fields of God, From earth afar arose a cry of pain Should we not met again? S)Tush, hush, O baby mine, Mothers twain are surely thine, One of earth and one divine. O Mary Mother of the day, the air Was sweet with songs celestial, cams prayer From earth afar, and mingled with the strain Would we not pray again? (Sings) Sleep, sleep, my baby dear. Mothers twain are surely near, One to pray and one to hear. O, Mary Mother, if as yesternight A bird sought shelter at my casement light, A wounded soul should flutter to Thy breast, Wouldst Thou refuse it rest? . (Sings) Sleep, darling, peacefully, Mary. Mother, comforts me, "hrir. Her Son, hath died for thee. -.rlluip Shorhnrna Hardy. THE VISITING BEAR, Willy James came home from Sunday Sun-day school that crisp winter afternoon after-noon in the best of spirits; not only had he been invited to a party the neoct Saturday, but he had also received an invitation to pend the afternoon with his Sunday school teacher, a rare treat. So, as Willy went to his room he sang and threw his hat upon the bed j with a shout. ! The next minute a cry rang through the house: "Mamma, mamma, help! Mercy!" There, at the front window of his room, was the strangest sight Willy ever saw. A big black bear siood upon its him! letrs tugging at the window shade, pulling with all its might and growling furiously. As Willy shouted, the bear turned around, bowed low, and came walking toward him with outstretched paw. "Oh, mamma, mamma, come quick!" shouted Willy, half dead with fright. "It's a bear!" Mrs. James came flying through the hall just in time to meet the bear face to face in the room, and together she and Willy crouched into the corner, while the bear advanced closer and closer. "Isn't it awful?" whispered Wiliy. tremblingly. "Will he eat us, mamma?" But the bear had no intention of eating eat-ing anybody. With a deep bow he saluted! sa-luted! Willy and his mother, and then, turning away from them, he danced gaily around the room, coming back and bowing low. In spite of their fright, Mra James and Willy laughed. "TMn't it funny?" said Willy, softly. "But, mamma, I am so afraid of him. Look at his teeth!" Gradually they crept to the door, but the bear was there as soon as they. He walked on ail fours now and looked up as much as to say. "You can't go without me." Downstairs all three went, Mra James and Willy keening their eves fixei on the bear, while His Bearship trotted after them like a great contented con-tented dog. At the foot of the stairs the bear stopped, lifted himself to his hind legs and. between the Ptairs and the front door, executed another dance. Was the like of it ever seen before? He twirled himself around on one hind leg, placed hia feet together, and made deep courtesies; and then wound up by nim- t bly waltzing in the little hallway. Fi- ! nauy. when he had finished, he seized a hat off the hat rack and passed it to Willy and hia mother. Of course, they had nothing to put in It. and the bear waited. "What does her want, mamma?" asked Willy. "Ho wants a penny, I think," said Mrs. James. At this the bear began to growl and Wiliy turned vae. "Oh, mamma, he will get angry if he doesi not get a penny," aaid he, feeling in all his pockets. pock-ets. "Here ia a candy, mamma; shall I give it to him?" Laughing in spite of their fears, Willy dropped the candy in the hat and the bear walked away contented. After thin he danced again, and after he had dvinced he turned a somersault and. lay down quite dead. I guess he has gone to sleep," said Willy. "Get up, Mr. Bear; get up." At this the bear leaped into the air and came down upon his feet, fright- j ening Willy and his mother to death for the. thousandth time Hlnce they had first found this strange gueft in their room upstairs. Finally, tired out. the bear walked away, and they could hear him in the dining room as he overturned the chairs. "Now, Willy,-run quick next door for Mr. Green." said Mrs. James. "Tell him to bring a, gun." Ih a few minutest Neighbor Green was in the house: and the three were watching the antic.i of the bear, who had begun to perform. "Seems a pity to shoot him," said Neighbor Green: "I gue.s we better shut him up in the wood house and see if anybody comes after him." So Bruno, as Willy called him, was led away and shut up in the wood-house. wood-house. Willy wanted to see him dance again, but Neighbor Green said it was better not to disturb him. An hour later, when Willy's father came home from his Sunday afternoon walk, he had to hoar all about the strange visitor, and, of course, he had to be taken out to the woodhouse to see Bruno dance. That evening Bruno dined on bread and butter and hickory nuta because neither Willy nor his papa knew what bears liked to eat; and the next morning morn-ing they gave him a basin of milk, which he drank as though he were a Puppy. About 12 o'clock the next day there came a wagon driving hastily down the road and a slender little man hopped out. "Heard you had His Majesty here," said he: "I mean the bear. He got away yesterday and we lost track of him. We hunted all night in the opposite direction, lou see, nes part of a big traveling show. Performs every night on the stage with my little boy." And then Willy knew why it was that Brtino had been so fond of him at first sight. They were sorry to let "His Majesty" go, but the menagerie man owned him and had a right to him; and after "His Majesty" had gone through with all his tricks again, they said good-bye to him, and away he went, peacefully sitting sit-ting in the back of the wagon. LITTLE DAN. You see the people at the postoffice soon recognize faces and names, and after a man or woman has appeared at the general delivery window several times, they are pretty well known. It is a real pleasure to hand out letters to some, while the clerks care little for the calls of others to get hold of their epistle-si. One day, a year or two ago, a funny looking little woman, wearing faded garments, but having a tidy look, and a motherly face, appeared at the window win-dow and asked for a letter. There was one for her, sent from a distant city, and anybody could have told that an unlearned hand directed the envelope. There was a little "d" in Detroit, with a big "T" to end the word, and it seemed wonderful that the letter ever reached its destination. The old lady felt so good that tears started, to her eyes, and yet, trying to smile, she put her head to the window and said: "Thanks. It's from my boy, Dan, and you don't know how much .good it doey me." The lady delivery clerk rose up to look after the old woman, and when a second letter came she was looking and watching for "mother" a whole day before the letter was passed out. "It's from my Dan again," cried the old woman, as she noted the superscription. super-scription. "He's only a bit of a boy, and there was not a show for him in Detroit, and besides he was running out of nights and going to the bad. I sent him away and he's working hard and trying to be good. God bless my Dan! I'm a lone widow, with only him to love, and I hope he'll be good." "I hope so, too," added the clerk, and after that the two were friends. Sometimes the letters were far between, be-tween, and when the old woman would worry over the delay and the big tears would fall, the clerlcat the office would almost shed tears with her. "Mother" would open her letters at. the window, and if Dan was feeling brave-hearted and getting along well, both would be still anxious if he complained and wag discouraged. Almost every week for a year and .a just as regularly she came to post an answer. She wrote in a quaint, old hand, but the boy could make out every word, and once when he wrote that her writing was improving, she felt all the pride which a school girl could have shown. He improved as well. By and by he wrote "Detroit" plain and fair, and he took extra pains to commence his "Dear mother" with a grand flourish, and to add something extra after the words "Your son, Dan." These letters were food and drink to the old lady, and she seemed to actually actual-ly grow younger. Little Dan had many friends in the postoffice, and had the mother been ill and carrier would have hunted till midnight to find her and hand her the looked for letter. Three or four weeks ago, when, she opened the letter, she wept and smiled as over the first. Dan wrote he was coining home for a week and her heart was full. She said she'd have the cottage cot-tage looking like nmv for him, and she'd be at the depot to welcome him, best of all. Everybody felt glad with hor, and the lady clerk was to go up some evening and have tea with her and see her little Dan, that was getting ready to come home. That was early in February and; he was to come early In March. The next Tuesday there waa a letter, but the handwriting was not little Dan's. It wag a strange business hand, and the clerk felt a chill go over her as she turned it over. It might be good news, but she feared not. "Mother" "Moth-er" canif) iin at the usual hour, and ahe turned pale as she took the envelope. Her fingers trembled as she opened- it. and she had to wipe the mist off of her eyes before she could decipher a wort!. She had not read over four or five lines when she uttered a moan and sank down like one crushed by some-awful some-awful weight. Dan was dead! The letter said he had been taken suddenly ill, and that nothing could save him. The blow was too heavy for one with her gray hair and childless heart, and her little house is without a tenant. No more letters commencing "Dear Mother." came for the dead, and the trembling hands, which used to linger so fondly over the words. "My Dear Boy. Dan." are folded over a lifeless breast, there to rest till the angels unclasp them. ! Hints on Conduct. As you enter upon life choose your friends as you would choose guides on ths borders of a wilderness. Friends mora ' than anything else determine the paths j which most of us follow. |