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Show ...Our Boys and Sirls... ED'TED BY AUNT BUSY. This department is conducted solely in the interests inter-ests of our eirl and boy readers. Aunt Bnsy is glad to hear any time from the nieces and nephews who read this page, and to give them all the advice and help in her power. Write on one side of the paper only. Do not have letters too lone. Original stories and verses will bo gladly received and carefully edited. The manuscripts of contributions not accepted will be returned. Address ell letters to Aunt Busy, Intermountain Catholic, Salt Lake City. . Salt Lake, July 2. Dear Aunt Buey: I have lots of fireworks for the Fourth of July? Have you any? I expect to have a good time. Your loving nephew, WILLIE O'BRIEN. Aunt Busy likes to see the little folks have a good time on the Fourth, dear . and she hopes you will have a happy day and not have any accidents. FLOSSIE'S REPENTANCE, "Oh, Flossie, come home with me and play till rapper time. Your mother'll let you, won't she ?" "I g-uess she -will. Wait till I ask her." Kathie dropped down with her ba of books on the doorstep, while Flossie ran upstairs to the nursery, where her mother sat holding baby Harold. Har-old. The baby put out his arms and smiled at sight of Flossie, but she paid no attention to him. "Oh, mamma," she cried, eagerly, "Kathie wants me to come over to her house to piay. I can, can't I? She has a lovely new swing." "Xo, dear, you can not po this afternoon," her mother answered. "Poor little brother's teeth are 1 rouMing him so that he has been fretting all day, and Ellen has been busy in the kitchen, so I have had to care for him. Now, I want you to amuse him -while I write some letters that must go in the next mail." "Oh, dear," said Flossie, with a scowl, "I always al-ways have to tend baby when I want to go anywhere, any-where, I must tell Kathie that I can't go, then." She ran to the door. "Isn't it mean, Kathie?" she said; "I've got to stay home and 'muse that cross baby." She looked so cross herself that Kathie did not feel eo very sorry. "Good-bye, then," she answered, picking up her bag; "maybe you can come tomorrow." tomor-row." Flossie stood looking after her until the blue dress and sailor nat disappeared around the corner. cor-ner. Then she went slowly upstairs. Her mother, f-et Harold on the floor, and Flossie flung herseif gloomily down beside him. He was a loving little fellow, and now he laid his pretty golden head against his sister's arm in his cunning, coaxing way, trying to make her smile. She began to build a block house, and Harold watched her gravely. As she put on the last block, he suddenly knocked it all over with a gurgle of baby laughter. Generally, Flossie laughed too when he did this, and began to rebuild it, but today she exclaimed sharply: "You naughty boy! Don't do that again." and then she slapped the chubby little hand. She dapped it very softly, but it hurt the baby's feel-5ngs, feel-5ngs, an dhe began to cry. Then Flossie, afraid that her mother would come, and ask what was the matter, hushed the baby and cuddled him, and in two minutes he had forgotten his grievance and was laughing at the big leaps Flossie had made the flannel rabbit take over the tumble-down block house. But neither of them really enjoyed the play, and when mother came into the room Harold turned quickly away from his sister and laid his head on his mother's shoulder with a contented little laugh that was half a sob. "He's awful cross," Flossie said, as she gathered up the blocks and the flannel rabbit. "Poor little man!" replied mamma. "Maybe f-ister would be cross, too, if her teeth were aching as his are. Now, Flossie, I want you to take these letters to the postoffice; but first go to the kitchen r.nd tell Ellen that if she has finished the baby's ironing I want her to take him out in his carriage. He has not been out today." It was quite a distance to the postoffice, and Flossie did not hurry. As she came back, half an hour later, ehe saw a crowd in front of the house. She began to hurry then. "What's the matter?" she asked of a girl about her own age who was standing there. "It's a baby got run over," the girl answered. "The carriage was all smashed up. See, there's rne nf the wheels." Flossie's heart began to best heavily. She could hardly breathe. "Was the baby killed ?" f-he gasped. The girl looked curiously at Flossie's while face. "I guess so." she replied. "It didn't open it rves. They carried it in there," and she pointed to Flossie's own room. Flossie felt rs if she were in a dreadful dream as she went up the steps and into the house. At the foot of the stairs she stopped a moment, then she went slowly up. As she passed the nursery, door she saw half a dozen strange people gathered about Harold's little bed. A woman came out, and Flossie whispered : "Is he dad?" "Xo, but the doctor says he can t live, the woman wo-man answered hastily, as she passed on; and Flossie Flos-sie crept away to her own room, shut the door and flung herself on the bed. "Oh," she sobbed, "if I had only been good to him this afternoon! If I only had!" A long time she lay there. She heard people go up and down stairs, heard the front door open and shut many times, but she did not move. She felt as if she could never speak to any one again. It was quite dark when her mother opened the door and called softly: "Flossie, are you here? The child sprang up. then threw her arms around her omther's neck. "Oh, mamma, mamma, is Harold dead?" she sobbed. "Harold? Why, my poor little girl, did you think it was our baby? It was not Harold It was the little Gilmore baby, whose mother died last week. . He is with her now. They brought him in here because the accident happened right in frcnt of our house." . What a weight rolled away from Flossie s heart then, and how she ran down and hugged her baby brother, and kissed again and again the little hand lhat she had slapped that afternoon !-Ida T. Thurston in Xew York Observer. to cultivate some pursuit, or art, or study congenial to his taste, but having nothing to do with his daily occupation. Let him divert his attention to this regularly, even if for very short periods. It is surprising sur-prising to see how much real progress can be made iu anything by even fifteen minutes a day of steady effort. But a much more important result is that the continuity of thought which held one. in bondage is t"s broken, and the mind strengthened strength-ened to work freely in other directions. |
