|Rights||No Copyright - United States (NoC-US)|
|Publisher||Digitized by J. Willard Marriott Library, University of Utah|
|Article Title||Our Boys and Girls|
I DIRECTIONS FOB, LETTER WRITING. WRIT-ING. Write on one side of paper only. Do rot have letters too long. Address all letters to '"Aunt Busy," Intel-mountain Catholic. Dear N,erhevs and Nieces: , The month of May will soon lve here, and Aunt I?usy has a little plan to Missvst to her boys and Kills, to honor (ur Blessed Mother during the month of flowers which is particularly devoted de-voted to her. St. Stanislaus Kostka always offered a spiritual lx-uquot of flowers to Mary; that is to say. a bouquet composed of the different acts of virtue which he practiced in her honor. Now, hero is Aunt Busy's plan: First, let us all offer Her a crown of flowers, flow-ers, by trying: to be like Her; to do this we must imitate her chastity, humility, hu-mility, silence and charity. Then, let us kewp a. picture or slatue a small or.f will do of Our Blessed Mother in our homes, and every day place a few flowers before it; wild flowers, garden flowers, or even a few green leaves if ve can get nothing else. Suppose some of my boys and pirls live where there is no church? How they can show their love for Our P.lestv-d Mother by this sweet, simple act of devotion! My 1 dear children, Aunt Busy hopes that you will all unite with her in this, and she hopes to hear, at least, from some of you, that you like her plan. We should not let a single day pass without with-out we implore the intercession of Our tender Mother, in thi: month of Her glorification. Our love for Her will prove a blessing which will extend through our future lives, and let triis following prayer be often on ur lips: "O Virgin Mother of Good Counsel," Sweetest picture artist ever drew. In all our doubts, we fly to Thee for guidance. Mother, tell us what to do. Eureka. New, April 9, 1000. Dear Aunt Busy: 1 have been reading your letters in ; . The Inteirnountain Catholic, and thought I would write you one. I am J years old and go to .school every day. I am in the second grade, and there are twenty in my class. I have five studies, reading, and spelling, and numbers, and drawing, and writing. I have a kittc-n and her name is Schley. I have three sisters and one brother, but I am the baby of the family. My sister brought me a pretty doll from San Francisco, and I like to play with her. Mamma made a pretty dress for it. Hoping to sec my letter in. print, 1 am, your loving niece. PEAKL M. MULLOY. Aunt Busy gladly welcomes her niece from Eureka. Your kitten has a fine name. What did you name your dolly? Write soon again. Colorado Springs, Colo., April 13. ! Pear Aunt Busy: j We take The Intermountain Catho lic, and as I see you have not many neiihews in Colorado Sprinsrs. I thought I would writ?. I am 13 years old and hope to make my first communion the iast of this month. I so to St. Mary's c hurch. I will tell you of my Vets in my next letter. Now, good-bye. I am your loving nephew, WILLIAM CUNNINGHAM. Aunt Busy is very happy to hear from a nephew in Colorado. You write a nice lnter. Aunt Busy hopes you will make your first holy communion. Write soon again and tell us about the iets. Pueblo, Colo.. April 8, 1900. pnr Aur.t Busy: As I have never written to you, I will write for the first time. I was j in years old on the 27th of March. I Mamma was aick and I helped her j with the work. I go to the L-uetto academy. I am in the fifth grade. My teacher's name is Sister Mary Kostka, I think I will close so as not to make it too long. Your loving niece. FLORENCE BERGIN. Another little niece from Colorado! You are a d.-ar child to help your mamma. Write soon again. Ogden. Utah, April 9, 1900. Dear Aunt Busy: The Ogden boys were real sorry to see in Saturday's Intermountam Cath--lie that your building caught on fire. Thank God, our dear, lovely Aunt Busy was not Jiurt. . I don't believe ur dear Lord would allow anything to happen to you. you are so lovely to u? boys. May G-.id' bless ail our friends. We would iove to see you run some races with us boys. Father Curihna-han Curihna-han can run fine. We often try to catch him. but have never succeeded. Best wishes for a holy and happy Easter from all your Ogdc-n nephews, and your dear little niece. Lovingly, GEORGE GUNN1P. Dear Ogden nephaw. your letter Is very lovely. Thank you for your kind words. May God bless my Ogden boys. Aunt Busy is -juitcat to run races. Aspen. Colo., April 13, 1900. Dear Aunt Busy: An many of your nephews and nieces in Colorado are writing to you. I will be one of them. I am 10 years old, and nm in the low fifth. I have a very nice teacher. 1 have no jrets. only my baby sister, and she is nice enough. Her name is Ethel, and I have a brother whoe age is 3 years, and his name is Bryan. I have another sifter whose name is Alleen, her age is 7 years. If I see this in print, I will write again. I am your wvx niece, KATHLEEN FARRKLL. Aunt Busy is very happy to see that her Colorado boys and girls are paying pay-ing more attention to hr lately. Kiss that dear little baby for Aunt Busy. Write 'ion again. Denver. Colo., April 7, 1900. Dear Aunt Busy: I have seen many Jetters in The Intermountain In-termountain Catholic, but not many from Denver boys or girls, and I don't want you to think we have forgotten you altogethr. I am 12 years old and go to school every day, and am in the fifth grade. I have twin sisters 8 years old: they are the youngest. I have a brother two years older than me. Well, my letter is getting pretty long, and 1 mut close. From your loving niece, FLORENCE HICKET. Aunt Busy is delighted to know that you have not forgotten to write to her. M ril- iiw ! iwtjiiiiiiwwmiw wiM piiwii 'ir" ra She would love to see those sweet twin sisters. Write soon again. IF WISHING- WERE HAVING. (Ida Goldsmith Morris in the Ladies' Home Journal.) Hey. little lassies, with eves of blue. And brave little laddies, with eyes of I . brown! What if a. fairy should come to vnu And show you the wav to Grown-up-Town? Now, tell me truly if I have guessed That this is the gift that your heart holds best?' Would you drop your dolly and leave your ball. And quit your frolics in field and glen, For the sake of feeling yourselves grow tall. For the bliss of being real women and men? Say, little lassies, and laddies, too. Now, isn't this just what you would do? Tell me. oh women with wistful eyes. And men who olod on life's toilsome way. What if kind fate, in some fairv guise. Should grant the wish of vour heart today! to-day! Weighed In the balance of time's true test. Which, of all gifts, would you count best? Would you leave the crowded city mart, The glitter of prold, the crown of fame. To sport as a child with care-free heart, i And eyes unclouded by grief or shame? , Tell me, oil world-tried women and men. Would you be, if you could, a child again? THE BAD BOY. His hair is red and tangled, and he has a lurned-up nose. His voice is loud and strident, and It never gets repose: His lace is full of freckles, and his ears are shaped like fins. And a large front tooth is missing, as you'll notice when he grins. He is like a comic picture, from his toes up to his head But his mother calls him "darling" when she tucks him into bed. It Is he who marks the carpet with the print of muddy boots: I And rejoices in a door-bell that is pulled out by the roots. Who whistles on his fingers till he almost splits your ears. And shocks the various callers with the slang he chanced to hear. He fills the house with tumult and the neighborhood with dread But his mother calls him "darling" when she tucks him into bed. THE GOOD OF LAUGHTER. Oh! who can estimate the worth Of sunny-eyed and dimpled mirth? How desolate would be the earth If it were not lor laughter! Of all the cures by man possessed. To cheer the heart by grief oppressed. There's none hath power, it is confessed, That can compare to laughter. So. for each sorrow ye endure, Unless ye nourish it be sure Ye have at hand an easy cure.: That can compare to laughter. 'Tis good for young, 'tis good for old; It is more precious for than gold; Then laugh as long as you can hold; Hurrah for jolly laughter! BEAUTIFUL WORDS. Mid the losses and the gains; Mid the pleasures and the pains, Mid the hopings and the fears, And restlessness of years, YVe repeat this pasage o'er Wo believe it more and more Bread upon the waters cast Shall be gathered at the last. Gold and silver, like the sands. Will keep slipping tnrough our hands; Jewels, gleaming like a spark. Will be hidden in the dark: Sun and moon and stars will pale But these words will never lai4; Bread upon the waters cast Shall be returned at the last. Soon like dust, to you and me ; Will our earthly treasure be; ! Bui the loving word and deed To the soul in bitter need, They will not forgotten be. They will live eternally Bread upon the waters cast Will be gathered at the last. Fast the moments slip away. Soon our mortal powers decay, Low and lower sinks the sun. What we do must soon be done; Then what rapture, if we hear Thousand voices ringing clear-Bread clear-Bread upon the waters cast Will be gathered at the last. PROMPTED FROM THE GALLERY. On the "third floor back" of a dismal-looking dismal-looking lodging house in a street near Waterloo bridge, a man was standing pinging. Ir a dilapidated armchair by the window, his audiences one wee, pre't'ty lat'.-ve was curie J up. wrapped about w'ith an overcoat, for there was no fire in the cheerio.!; grate. --ihall I light the lamp, daddy?" she j asked, as he ceased to sing 'and began to execute a grotesque dance, still whistling the rafrain of Oiis i-ung: "It has grown so dark that I can't see to give you your cuo?." and f-'he held up some.tat'Ured manuscript aa S'he epoke. "No. Babsiie; t'hait will do for tonight. Don't try your eyes. Shall we have our usual chat in the dark, pe't? There is no rehearsal tonight. Ugh, how cold it is. Have we no coal or wood, dearie?" "No, c'ad; but it isnt . very much odder without fire, because the silly smoke won't go up ithe chimney, eome-h.nv. eome-h.nv. ?r 1 have to keep the window open when we do have a fire." "My poor Jittle frozen baby," he said sadly, taking her in hit? arm.s. "We will find lodgings where the smloke does exit the proper way after boxing nigiht." J Babsie was eoon fast asleep. He lifted her up and placed her on the bed. "Heaven help her," he murmured, Fadly, as he gazed upon the sweet white face. "If I had only been a laborer, you would not have gone hungry, my pet. I wonder how many poor mum-meifl mum-meifl are waiting eagerly far boxing night? I have looked for work without ceasing. I wonder if the ruable army of ! bogus managers with whom I've been so closely acquainted of late are dining din-ing well tonight while she is starving. I'll spend every penny I earn this pantomime pan-tomime upon 'her comfort. Oh, if I can only make a hit now, my chance has ocme! Oh, my Babsie, my brave little Babsie!" "Daddy, it's the glorious boxing day at last!" cried Babsie, dancing round him in her excitement, as he was preparing pre-paring to co to the theatre. "i-s"j'-bAus;. wasii't quite saiLKJth at dress, rtf.iear.val," he had explained to her; "so I chall be at the theatre all day." The latter part of this sta'tement was not true; buit he saw that there was barely foodfer one in the cupboard, and his pocket Wi3 quite empty. As ho ran down the i-ttairs a little rhoe came clattering after him, and a saucy, s'aiiling face peeped over the balusters. "That's for luck, dad," she called out. He noticed the little shoe had a hole right through the sole, and he sighed. When he reached the theatre he found only a few tshivering nobodies assembled assem-bled on the stage. They all waited for about two houu for the u.ars, wno had never intended to appear, ar.'d then the Utage manager dismissed them. Halli-day Halli-day mot his manag'er as he turned out of the stage doer with the -intention of strolling about the streets until evening. even-ing. "Hallo!" paid that individual, genially. genial-ly. "Hope all 'the plum pudding you had yesterday won't affect your top nnteis. I think your song will fetch 'em upstairs. up-stairs. There's money in it" HalMday uttered an exclamation, and, stooping down, picked up a quarter. "There, what did I tell you?" laughed the manager, a9 he snapped him on the bac. k'and went on h:s way. Halliday hugged the little coin in Ws palm. It meant a very much, and it had entirely changed his plans for the day. He hurried homeward with a lighter heart than he had carried for months, only chopping ait a coflter's barrow bar-row on the way to invest same of his treasure in rcisy-cheeked apples. He sprang lightly up the stairs to his home, calling "Babsie!" as he ran, so anxious was he to ?ee her astonishment and delight. But no answer came; no painter of li't'tle feet. The dreary room wfli.i eimpty. He fat down chilled and uneasy, and the apples rolled unheeded to the door. But one hour two hours three hours patted, and still no Babsie. The fog way growing denser and denser. The anxious father paced up and down the little room. At every footfall on the staira he rushevi out and called her name. The callboy at the Regal theatre was calling out "Overtures and beginners" as he made hli way along tlhe passages I when a. man rushed paat him and disappeared dis-appeared into one of the dressing rooms. It was Nigel Halliday, white and trembling, and with huge beads1 ot perspiration, on his brow. "He'll never be on!" ?aid the performers per-formers in chorus. But he was at the side dress ed and made up, fully fiVJ minutes before his entrance. The other performeis were looking at him curiously, cur-iously, for h'la face was twitching and he spoke to no one. "Nervousness or drunkenness," they ail agreed. There was a ripple of laughter a he made his first entrance. It acted like an electric shock upon him. He knew what was expectoi of him. and he worked desperately. "He'll do," said the anxious manager, sagely, as he watched his grotesque exit and listened lis-tened to the applause that followed it. As soon as Halliday f;as off the stage after the fourth scene, he caught the assistant manager by the arm. "I'm not on until the palace scene," he said, eagerly. "How long is my wait?" "Oh, about one hour tonight," was the reply. Halliday rushed down the passage to his dreading room, removing his kingly robes as he ran. "What the deuce are you doing?" cried one of the men, as he watched him struggling into his overcoat. "Are you drunk tonight, or what?" "Don't stop me!" panted Halliday. "Hands off, I say. It's my long wait. I'll be back in time. My child is lost missing since morning. I'm crazy With anxiety; she's my only one." Through the streets he ran, threading thread-ing in and out of the traffic, heedless of the shouts of the drivers. The fog had cleared away, and the night was starry. "Babsie! Babsie!" he panted, as he tore along. "Babsie! Babsie!" as he vaulted up the dark staircase to his home. All was silent in the desolate room. He stood there one moment and threw up his hands in voiceless prayer, and then he hastened back to the theatre. Just before his entrance in the palace pal-ace scene the doorkeeper made his way through the crowd and said something some-thing in a low tone to the stage manager. man-ager. He saw them glance toward him, and in a moment he was beside them. "In heaven's name, tell me. Gra-hame! Gra-hame! Is it news for me? Don't lie; I know it is!" "When you come off, Halliday after your song. There's your music playing now. Go on, old man." , "Tell me first," Halliday replied, hoasely, "and I give you my word I'll go on!" "A little girl run over taken to Faith hospital. Don't know who she belongs to. Died unconscious," Gra-hanie Gra-hanie replied, hastily. "Thank you," was all the wretched man said as he staggered past them onto the stage. A child in the gallery laughed glee- fully at his grotesque entrance. It sounded just like Babsie's laugh. Babsie Bab-sie now, perhaps, lying a little mangled man-gled corpse in the Faith hospital. Why was he there, he asked himself, if his darling lay dead? What did he' care for money now?" But Babsie had been so fond of his "drinking . song." . "He's breaking down," was the terrified whisper. "Won't some one step in to fill the gap?" And some one did. Bight from the very back of the gallery it came a child's voice that caught up the refrain just as the wretched singer was about to ruah from the stage and the astonished aston-ished artists, looking up to the "gods," beheld the Singer, a little girl, perched upon the shoulders of a stalwart coster. It was Babsie Babsie, alive and well. By the time the little girl had got through the chorus and the gallery had shown their appreciation by aplauise and whittling, Halliday had regained his self possession and he sang the remainder re-mainder of his ditty with such joyous vigor that he carried hia audience along, and the infection of gayety from al the smiling faces on the stage made itself felt all over the house. "That kid in the gallery is an old music hall dodge," said one petite to another. "Yes, but this was jolly well worked. I thought the chap had really broken down," replied his friend. Behind the scenes the "kid in the gallery" was being clasped1 in her father's arms amid a group of sympathetic sympa-thetic people in, motley attire. Babsie's tory was soon told. She had been offered a quarter by a neighbor neigh-bor to mind her babies while she wenit out. The temptation to see her "dad" perform had been too strong, and the litle girl with her precious coin in her hand, had patiently waited outs'de the gallery door for many hours. As she had not expected her father home all day she had not been ; in the least uneasy. un-easy. , :. ,' " Then Manager Vaughan and Stage Manager Grahame claimed her attention atten-tion and the former slipped a brand-new brand-new dollar bill into her hand. "It's what I owe you for that unrehearsed unre-hearsed effect," he said laughing.