OCR Text |
Show ; ...Oar floy$ and, Girls... ED: ED Sr AUNT B'JSV. TMs department Is corif5uct(l eoleiy in ths Interne Inter-ne of our pirl and boy readers. Aunt Busy t clad to har any ttmo from th piper" r.nd nephews who read this pane. and to firs irem nil the advice and help In her power. ' Write on one aide of the paper only. S Do not have letters too lone 5 Orijrlnal ftor!e and verses will bo gladly recslvl ar. r.nfullv edited. The manuscript of contributions not accepted wl3 te returned. duress aM ;etters to Aunt Busy. IntermountVa I rtthnilf Palt Lake fltv. f The Governor's Story. A Jt-ff Gardner came down the academy steps I twirl v;is Tioundintr with ri1fn?iiT Tt n-aa tha liJ1IJ,ist inuiiient of Ins life. It had just been an-jjnuno-d iu chapel that he was the winner of first jjuii'irs of the senior class. ;ut he had not walked two blocks until the chill-j,. chill-j,. recollection came that they did not cheer when liii name was read. There was a little perfunctory Jjim'l-clapjmig, but nothing fine and spontaneous like last year, when Cyrus Field won. Jiircetly the pleasure was all gone, and, a3 often before, he was moodily wondering why he had no fellowship with the other students, why he was al-v.iiys al-v.iiys left out, why none seenied to care at either his failure or success. Like most moody, sensitive, over-self conscious people, he failed to see that he fcbut himself out by shutting himself up. He gave j jir.no of himself to them, and, of course, they had little interest in him. But Jeff thought resentfully I that it was because of his poverty and humble 1 Two men sat in front of a store, talking, over-I over-I carelessly, as men often do, and the boy overheard. I "They say that boy of old Gardner's learns like 1 everything." 1 ' It won't do him any good," remarked the other. I "He's got too much of the old man in him. Old Jim I Gardner has always failed at everything he tried; ir.nd Jeff is just like him. He will never be anything any-thing hut old man Gardners boy." The bell rang, and he tried to make himself go back to his class. But what was the use? lie was itmly r -Id Jim Gardner's boy. An hour later a seventeen-year-old boy, dinner pail on arm. his shoulders bent like an old man's, trudged down the road toward home. The Gardners lived on a small rocky farm, three mile? south of town. It was nearly noon when Jeff reached home. His father was in the yard hammering hammer-ing at the wheele of the market wagon. The vegetables vege-tables intended for the early morning market were frill in the wagon box. wiltp onH n-;n ,,;i v.,. C3 "'"vu uuu II U.C1ICU Ulll.il UJCy would be scarcely be salable at all. They were second-rate vegetables, anyway, reflected Jeff, bitterly. The Gardners never had anything that wast first- class. ; Just as the wheel seemed almost mended the father fa-ther struck a little too hard with his hammer, and ; l'rkc a felly. The work had to be done over again. 't Jeff turned into the house sick. ; In the desolate ltitle sitting room he noticed his father's glasses among the litter of papers and old magazines on the table. Besides the shelf of worn I bocks sat the one rocking chair where his father r Lad left it, for old man Gardner loved his books. Jeff felt for the first time angry at his father sngry because of the poverty and failure which had :f branded him merely, "Old Jim Gardner's son." ' Why away from school?" asked Mr. Gardner, timidly, at dinner. He was a mild, apologetic little 1 man. "I am not going any more," Jeff's tone was sharp. -Who not, son ?" The father spoke in ineffectual surprise. 'Oh, what's the use?" said Jeff, angrily. "It tfon't do any good. The Gardners always fail none ci u over amount to anything." The father looked at him wistfully a moment, tried to speak, but his lips trembled, and he pushed t;:ck Lis chair and left the table. Jeff's aunt his cither had been dead many years expostulated ith him in a querulous way. She was a hopeless Pattern, with a pitiful little whine tacked to the end 'i her words. I Jeff paid no attention to her, not even considering consider-ing it worth while to reply. He got up, took his hat, find struck out upon the open road in the opposite emotion to town. Occasionally he got work. At times he centered Jil Ins energies on his task and did remarkably well, Iit lie was both strong and deft. But always, when iar success, the thought came, "Oh, well, I'm only Jim Gardner's son what's the use?" His courage j'ould shp away; he would grow listless and care-Jess, care-Jess, and directly lose his job. For two years he tried nearly everything. He forked on a farm a few months, then at a sawmill, clerked in a store, was a newsboy on a tram, canvassed for a book, and did dozens of odd jobs. Nometimes he would fiercely declare, "I will suc-P-a, but always when at the point of success came "at haunting obsession, "I can't I'm only Jim aroi.er's boy none of us ever succeed." The u-nor lie failed the less grew his energy and self-ci self-ci iKnco. He had shifted around until his clothes I- TTer(j sllalll'.v and he wore a cringing, hangdog look. Ue had never written to his father, for his heart as buter, and he blamed him for all his failures. , At last he reached bottom, and was tramping the Clt-T sri-ching for work anything to pay for a meal a bed. "Old Jim Gardner's boy," sounded mock-"-jy irom the clanging noises of the street. ''Old ""'i Gardners boy," was written in his crino-inrr 1 Uniting attitude, as he asked vainly for work, tfl, r a .cc'k 1C vec on one mea a ay an f'cPt . ,:'"' vcr the police would let him on vacant lots, lnf' ''hnrds, in boxes. J hen one day a man met him, and looked him Pvrr sympathetically. 1 he city is no place for a boy like you," he said, t will be winter soon and you'll freeze and starve. "I to tho country. There is plenty of work gath-tri'g gath-tri'g corn thore now. "I can't," he answered dully; "I've nothing to Po on." it, ero'" And the man gave him three dollars; ' ivA- will take you a hundred miles into the coun-J?- Go down there to that depot and catch the t train." Tt ff cat by the window as that car sped along k wondered if he really could get a job gathering l"ni it was November now if he only could it iould mean plenty to eat and some place to sleep. -I be train slowed down for a station. There was he music, of a band and the sound of much cheer-'r-P. As the. tram stopped the passengers put their f!ins from the window to see. ?t is ihe new governor," some one said; "there be comes." A fine, warm-hearted looking man, entered the I . car, and took the first vacant chair by the aisle. It happened to be beside Jeff. Something of the forlorn, pathetically bittle look about the boy must have stirred his sympathy, for he began to talk directly that the train was in motion. mo-tion. ''In hard luck, my boy ?" He laid a strong, firm hand on Jeff's knee. "Yes." "Well, keep up hope and work on. You will pull through after a while." Something in his sympathy touched the boy, and almost unconsciously he told his story of failure only he did not mention his father. "I know what it is," said the governor, and his eyes grew reminiscent. "I came to America from Ireland when I was fifteen. I was a country boy and knew nothing of the way of a city and I was not strong. I could not work on the streets or the railroads. I walked the hot pavements many days, trying for work. "At last I got a place in the kitchen of a cheap resturant. The heat was terrible. The horrid smell of the steaming, spoiled food was worse; and the curses of the cooks and waiters nearly drove me mad. "I was sensitive, and afraid I would not please. They worked me almost to death, and abused me fearfully for my ignorance and awkwardness. "I slept in a little airless hall over the restaurant, restaur-ant, where the heat mde tahe nights more hideous than the days. "One day I slipped on the greasy floor and dropped a large bowl of hot tomato soup. The proprietor pro-prietor heard the crash and rushed in, snarling like a mad dog. He grabbed me by the neck and rubbed my face in the soup on the floor, and he rubbed the stuff into my hair and clothes, and down my neck, and then kicked me out into the street. "I was in a horrible plight, and as I walked the street, rage and despondency fought within me. I determined that I would kill the proprietor and then go and jump into the river. "When it grew dark I stole a knife and started back to the restaurant. Under a corner light I came face to face with a young man who stopped and spoke to me. " 'In hard luck, partner ?' he asked. He had the ! gentlest eyes and the sweetest smile of any man I ever saw. " 'Yes,' I said, 'I'm out of a job.' I did not tell him what I had started to do. He talked with me a few minutes. 'Come with me,' he said, 'and I'll try to get you a job.' "He taught in a night school, and I waited at the foot of the stairs for two hours while he gave his lessons. Then he took me to his room. I guess it was not much of a room, but it seemed like Heaven to me then, for it had a window that opened to the outside air. 4WYt rrmmiiifr ho rrava mn ahq tf liio cnito -.f clothes he had only two. He was a small man, so his clothes just fit me I was only sixteen. He walked and walked with me all day hunting job, and finally found one. After I started to work he got me interested in the night school." The Governor paused a minute. "And I was the only one he saved. There were dozens of others." He ran his hand across his forehead and his lips trembled slightly, as he added : "You know, lad, I'd rather see that man than any one in the world. For twenty years I have inquired in-quired in every city or town in which I stop, but I cannot find him anywhere." "What was his name?" asked Jeff, stirred by the story. "James Gardner we used to call him Jimmy." As the train slowed up at the next station Jeff was waiting at the door, and got off hurriedly. It was a hundred miles across country to his home. He walked every mile of the way, and the evening of the third day came into town with his head held high and his step firm, as though ready for a race. Unmindful of his worn and shabby appearance, he greeted several acquaintances heartily as he passed down the main street. But his greetings were brief; he was started for the little farm three miles south of town. It was daylight when he reached the house. His father was walking disconsoltaely up and down the yard, his head drooped forward, an absent, weary look on his face. With a rush Jeff cleared the fence and crossed I the yard. With a terrible grip his arms went about the little man and held him tight. "And you have really come back to me, my son V said the father tremulously. "Yes" and Jeff's voice rang "I have come back to you and victory." Catholic Telegraph. Two Little Maids. Little Miss Nothing-to-do, Is fretful and cross and so blue; And the light in her eyes Is all dim when 6he cries, And her friends, they are few, oh, so few; And her dolls, they are nothing but saw'dust and clothes, Whenever she wants to go skating it snows, And her friends, they are few, oh, world askew, I wouldn't be Little Miss Nothing-to-do, Now true, I wouldn't be Little Miss Nothing-to-do, Would you? Little Miss Busy-all-day Is cheerful and happy and gay; She isn't a shirk, For she smiles at her work, And romps at her work. And romps when it comes time to play. Her dolls they are princesses blue-eyed and fair, She makes them a throne from a rickety chair, And everything happens the jolliest way, I'd sooner be Little Miss Busy-all-day, And stay As happy as she is at work or at play, I say. SUCCESS IN LIFE. Some boys will pick up a good education in the odds and ends of time, which others carelessly throw away, as one man saves a fortune by small economies, which others disdain to practice. What young man is too busy to get an hour a day for eelf -improvement ? You will never "find" time for anything. If you want time, you must take it. If a genius like Gladstone carried through life a little book in his pocket lest an unexpected moment mo-ment should slip his grsap, what should we, of common abilities, resort to save the precious moments mo-ments from oblivion ? "Nothing is worse for those who have business than the visits of those who have none," was the motto of a Scottish editor. Drive the minutes or they will drive you. Success Suc-cess in life is what Garfield called a question of "margins." Tell me how a young man uses the little ragged edges of time while waiting for meals of tardy appointments, after his day's work is done, or evenings what opportunity and I will tell you what the man's success will be. One can usually tell by his manner, the direction of the wrinkles in his forehead or the expressoin of his eyes, whether he has been in the habit of using his time in good advantage or not. The most valuable of all possessions is time; life itself is measured by it." The man who loses no time doubles his life. Wasting time is wasting life. Some squander time, some invest it, some kill it. That precious half-hour a day which many of us throw away, rightly used, would save us from the ignorance which mortifies us, the narrowness and pettiness which always attend exclusive application applica-tion to our callings. Four things come not back the spoken word, the sped arrow, the past life, and the neglected opportunities. op-portunities. Success. AS YOU GO ALONG. Will do your soul o world of good To life a fallen brother From troubles towering mountain-high, Through one cause or another. Perhaps the very thing he needs Is but a cordial greetings. To turn his darkened sky to blue. With all its storm-clouds fleeting. WET AND DRY MOONS. There is an old superstition which dies hard, and that is that the position of the horns of the new moon tells what the weather will be. If the horns of the crescent are on the same level it will hold water, and hence it is a dry moon, but if it is tipped up then the water will run out, and it is a wet moon. One thing has helped keep this belief alive. Tli6 moon is "dry" in the part of the spring that is usually fair, while it is "wet" during the season of autumn rains. If this were a sure sign of the weather we could have our predictions published many years in advance, ad-vance, for an astronomer can predict the exact position of the moon at any time in the future. The cause for the different positions of the crescent is simple. The moon is south of the sun in the autumn and north of it is spring. The crescent cres-cent is found by the light of the sun falling on the moon, and the horns are naturally in a line perpendicular perpen-dicular to the direction of the sun from the moon. That is all there is to this old superstition. Manifested the Makings. Alderman Smith's baby was being christened, and everybody present was complimenting the happy praf-nts. "I believe," said the proud mother, "that he is going to be a great politician some day." "Why?" asked the ruddy-faced father. "Well, because he crawls out of everything so easily," said the wife, smiling up into her husband's face. Lippincott's. FRANCISCAN TERTIARIES In Belgium there are upwards of 100,000 Fran-ciscian Fran-ciscian Tertiaries, in the proportion of 30,000 men to 70,000 women. These are representatives of all classes of Belgian society, members of the government, govern-ment, civil servants and other functionaries, merchants, mer-chants, mechanics and working men. |