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Show I 4our Boys and I I t Edited by Aunt Busy. , I AUNT BUSY HAS HER SAY. I T)car .Xiocos and Nephews: i J he h'rst warm June lays have arrived and the ! .. J "okl Miminer lime'' is really here, so Iho - thoughts of all iho dear young people are on the I ).jlV vacation days. , mv oomo the visions of green fields, shady I j,,v.k. swaying trees, singing birds and all that is J lirautiful in nature. To the children the summer I jinn' should he the happiest of the year, and every J v,,uvnl should he spent out of doors. J Aunt Busy cherishes many memories of- the I happy "1"" fg time,'-when she ran wild during I 1 ii- balmy summer days. She remembers the rae- I I ins over ihc hills after butterflies, the picking of J p roily wild flowers, the long walks in - the I w-uod. ihe lovely summer evenings when, tired but I v ry happy, she wr s tucked iuto bed to dream of I hini.-. Ik-cs and butterflies, and all the creatures of I jur aixl field. Aunt Busy wishes so many times J that sh- could 1 funny, fat little girl again, i juid have ihe oiu hay--: days all over; but it oaiu j ic t bo. so she v il t .ke much pleasure in read- jus and hearing o! hen her dear little friends arre I enjoying ihemsolvo. , so do not forget, dears, to I I v-riie during the hiipp vacation days to your lov- II uj .Li . AUNT BUSY. J J LETTERS AND ANSWERS. 1 1 Moscow, Ida., May 21, 1004. If T't.Tr Aunt Busy 1 thought I would write vou ( If 8 ii'ii,' letter. : J am !J years old and go to school all the time. ;mi in the third grade, and my teacher's name is Jliss Showalter. Rev. Father Mooney is our pastor, pas-tor, and wp like him very much. .My papa is in British Columbia now, and my j inai'ia and I and my two brothers are going there M-i-n. Your friend, j WARNER CARITHERS. I Aunt Busy hopes t hear very often from her new Idaho nephew. Father Mooney has many i frit nds.' particularly among the children, and he will surely like you, because Aunt Busy knows u-u must be very good. j Moscow, Ida., May 22, 1904. 1 Boar Aunt Busy I am writing to you for the first lime, as 1 never heard of you before our new I pastor, Father Mooney, came. I like him very I inii' li, and 1 think 1 shall make my first eommu- ( liioii in August. I I am going to the public schools, in the seventh ! grade. I Father Mooney has offered medals and other j rewards for good catechism and regular attend- 1 nine. I am going to try and win one of them. I 1 must close now. From vour niece, MADELINE SHIELDS. . I A glad welcome, dear little Idaho niece! Aunt I Bu-y appreciates hearing" from you, and also the i fart of dear Father Mooney telling the dear little .! people about her. Work hard for a medal, dear, i and lie very glad that you have such a good, zcal- I oiis pastor as Rev. Father Mooney. I 1 I Ogden, Utah. May 21, 1004. I Bear Aunt Busy For the longest time I have ? wanted 1o write to you, but I was not able to write i so you could read it, and now at last 1 can be one i of your niece;, too. Are you glad, Aunt Busy I !' I have two sisters. 1 go to St. Joseph's school, t find 1 like school ever so muclu I will say good-by for this time, dear Aunt Busy. Your fond niece, 1 GEORGIA O'NEILL. Aunt Busy extends a warm welcome to the i dear niece who can write to her at last, and a very i . ' p.,l letter, loo. Aunt Busy hopes to hear from jou very often, little niece. h Hugo, Colo., May 25, 1004. . j Boar Aunt Busy As I saw my other letter in n pr;nt. I thought 1 would write to you again. I liavp two little puppies, and their names are Niger and Nero. They are 24 days old today, and they j "'an tark. Fearing my letter is' getting too long, J will close. Your loving nephew. I LLOYD EWING. I Aunt Busy would like to hear from you. very j often. Lloyd. She would like vvery well to see the ? n't'le doppies. Niger and Nero. Aunt Busy loves animals of all kinds, but she is afraid of cows. A PASTOR'S STORY. ? Lvery clear day it is my fashion to say my h' -ary, walking up and down a shady path in our , plea-ant little garden, he children and I are great r friend.-, and to my miniature Eden they flock, wait- . inir patiently until they see me kiss the crucifix and M' myself; then the crushupon me unawarers as t!n v suppose, escort me to a seat and beg for sto;-e. One day my youthful visitors numbered four small girls, and after telling them -a wonder ful tale in which angels and brownies and good children figured largely, I told them it was now their inn) to toll me a story. The sweet little faces eii-hed and four wrinkled foreheads betokened pro-'diiotis pro-'diiotis thinking; but one of them, the possessor : of earnest gray eyes, looked at me gravely and ' Father, I'll tell you about something I did." j "lo. Edith.' 1 said, encouragingly. "1 don't suppose. Father, you know a little girl i ramod Clare Vincent? She lives near us and is j ju-t the nicest girl, but she didn't know anything j u little while ago. Father." "How was that?' I asked. t "Oh. she could read and wriic and do all those I thitio; but 1 mean about God and the Blessed I Mother and iho League and the First Friday I ilnn-s ihaf, wo know and talk about, Father." I "I- she a Catholic f I asked. "Yes, Father, she's a Catholic, and her papa 1 snd mamma are Catholics, but they don't care v p :!. ut Clare that way. She gets everything she V ; vanK ii m I they live in a lovely big house, but they j d-.n't jro 1i church and Clare goes to a Protestant ; - houJAvliv. Father, she didn't oven know how to : : -s hersoif!" " I hat's dreadful; And did you teach herf I a-ke.l. "Well. I'll just tell you what I did, Father. I 'nt ever to their doorstep every afternoon and ';:yod jaekstones with her. It wasn't just to have -in. you know. I'd talk to her about ehureh and God. 'mid after awhile 1 taught her to bless herself. her-self. And then she learnt to say the Our Father,' i.nd Hail Mary,' and finally 1 got her to ask her iimma if she could go 1o Sunday school with me, Mid her mamma said she didn't mind, and there she h ;.nii. her catechism. Sometimes she would go to Ma-s on week days with me. Clare is a real smart jiirl. Father, and learns things fast, you know, and -It- was' allowed to make her first Communion at 1iio end of the year. Her mamma is a very kind Li ly and plad lhat Clare is getting along so nicely. Mio poes 1o mass mi Sundays now with her." "And all these good things came because you played jaekstones with her," I said, smiling, and looking into her earnest face" and wide-open, lus-tious lus-tious and innocent eyes. "Oh. no, Father! It just happened that way. Clare didn't know and she was glad to have someone some-one tcdl her things; besides she really learnt all in Sunday school," answered the child, who, from the ! admiration that appeared in my face, was growing the least bit conscious of the good done and daht-f. daht-f. ened at once to tdisclaim any credit in tho good S vork. ... . -A-.i . H - ' ' ' ...'.,1- ; V t 'God reward you, dear little heart!" I eaid fcr- j vently; and, giving my blessing, to each of the four,. I -sent: them away jxappr;; none more' so than my littlc'jackstone player. Exchange. ?W ' THEIR TRIP TO TOWN. When Tottie and Jimmie-boy came ' to visit grandpa and grandma at the valley farm, in October, Oc-tober, grandpa' promised them a trip to town. Now Tottie and Jimmie-boy had never seen a town, so the ywerc much excited. Tottie was 10: Jimmie-boy Jimmie-boy was 10 also, because, as Tottie would have told you. "twinses can't help being the same age." One fine 'crisp morning everybody at the valley farm was up before sunrise for town was twenty miles away, and a journey thereto must be begun ' betimes. Just before they started in the,. market wagon, with the two big red Iwrses, grandma gave Tottie and Jimmie-boy 10 'cents each. "Get just exactly what you like for yourselves," she said. . Grandpa let them fake turns driving all the way to town. This was best of all. When they had driven ten miles the world was getting pretty well wakened up. and they met lots of people. But how Tottie and Jimmie-boy pitied those people who were not going to town with a grandpa! It was such good fun to rattle through the little evillages where the children came out to look at them. Tottie Tot-tie and Jimmie-boy felt so important. Everybody must know that they wore going to town with grandpa, and it was a wonderful thing. Half way to town grandpa stopped the horses in a .little woodsy place where ihere was a brook, and lliey at ihe lunch grandma had provided, and drank the clear, cold wafer of the brook. It was such fun just as good as a picnic, you know; and grandpa told them stories and made them laugh. Grandpa was so jolly. When they got to town Tottio and Jimmie-boy slareiK until their eyes ached. It was a wonderful, wonder-ful, wonderful day all through. They saw enough to talk about all winter. Between times they each thought deeply on what they should buy with their 10 cents. They had never had so much money to spend before. But presently Tottie brightened up and looked knowing. She had decided what she would buy. A little later Jimmie-boy also brightened bright-ened up and looked knowing; he had thought of the very thing. When going-home time came they were glad and tired and happy. The road seemed pretty long going back, and they got sleepier and sleepier. When Totfie began to nod violently grandpa thought it was time to do something. He stopped the horses, spread a big rug on the floor of the wagon behind the seat, fixed up a pillow out of parcels, put iho drowsy twins in and covered thorn over with another rug. Tottie and Jimmie-boy slept as soundly, for the last twelve miles, as if they were at home in bed. It was bright moonlight when the big bay horses stopped in the valley farm yard and Tottie and Jimmie-boy woke up. After supper Tottie gravely untied a small parcel. 'I got this for you, grandpa," she said, proudly. It was a most gorgeous heart of pink candy, adorned with gilt paper, and a motto, and the picture pic-ture of a rose. "Well, well," said grandpa, "isn't that a splendid splen-did present 'C ' " T got something for grandma," said Jimmie-boy, Jimmie-boy, proudly. Then he undid his parcel, and lo! there was a yard of the very brightest bright yellow and bright blue plaid satin ribbon that 10 cents could boy. Grandma held up her hands. . "Dear me!" she said, "isn't that a most elegant thing, now?" When Tottie and Jimmie boy had gone to bed grandma and grandpa laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks. 4 "The dear little things1" said grandma. '"To think of their buying'something for us instead of spending it on themselves!" Grandpa never ate the pink heart, and grandma never wore the pink ribbon. They kept them wrapped up in tissue paper in a box on the parlor mantel shelf, but thev showed them to everybody. There was nothing Tottie and Jimmie-boy could have bought for them that would have pleased them more. L. M. Montgomery in S. S. Times. |