OCR Text |
Show ...Our Boys and Qirl$...: EDITED BY AUNT BUSY. This department, is ' conducted solely in the iru-r-, c-5ts of our girl and boy readers. Aunt Busy is glad to hear any rime from th ;in,i ncpnows who read this najro, and to ive novo all lh advice and help in her r,over Write on one Eide of the paner only. Do not have letters" too long-. n,?!510 lnd ver'es wiu gladly received and carefully edited. The rhanuscrlpts of contribution not accertd vril' be returned. ' r,wSS!5il1TUrrs0 Aunt 5V-Intc mountain I, atnoho, Salt Lake City. . LETTERS AND ANSWERS. Salt. Lake City. April 20,1007. Dear Aunt Busy: You were so good to answer my etter that I .am writing again. Johnnie, my brother, who wrote to you last summer, has made all -arrangements to so to 'Frisco, and no matter how much we coax him to stay home he says he wiH not upseHiis plans. 1 am going to Ogden on a visit when the peaches and plums aro ripe. Your loving niece. SADIE CAHXOPEX. Aunt Busy is always pleased to reply to her little lit-tle friends. Aunt Busv thinks that Brother John will he glad to return home so let him go and lie will appreciate home when he returns. AUNT BUSY HAS HER SAY. Dear Xieees and Xephews: Aunt Busy is grateful grate-ful to some dear niece or nephew for the pretty wild violets she received yesterday. Why the dear frirl or hoy did not inclose a name with the kind remembrance Aunt Busy docs not know, but in any case tdie enjoyed receiving them. The flowers came from the Utah canyons, sure. Aunt Busy hopes that the sender will sign his or her name next time so that Aunt Busy can personally extend ex-tend her gratitude for being remembered. Yours I ir rlowerdom. AUNT. BUSY. j AWFUL. There is a little maiden Who has an awful time; She lias to hurry awfully To get to school at nine. j Sh has an awful teacher; ' j Her tasks are awful hard; j j ller playmates all are awful rough l When playing in the yard. j She has an awful kitty y Who often shows her claws; A dog who jumps upon her drcs-With drcs-With awful muddy paws. She has a baby sister With an awful little nose. Willi awful cunning dimples And such awful little toes. She has two little brothers. And they are awful boys ; With their awful drums and trumpets They make an awful noise. Do come, I pray thee, common sene. Come and this maid defend, i Or else I fear her awful life I Will have an awful end. Boy Character. The way in which a boy finds amusement tells :t once to any observer the kind of a hoy he is. Because, Be-cause, you see. amusement is not like study nr work. Study or work may be ordered for a boy by other people. In finding amusement he usually follows his own inclinations and in this way he cannot can-not help betraying his character. Some boys find amusement in torturing other people and making them unhappy. Such boys usually select victims who are meeker and smaller than themselves, and are careful not to let their doings do-ings be noticed by a bigger or better principled boy. And so the boy who finds his pleasure that way shows himself as not only cruel, but a coward and a sneak. Some boys find amusement in overeating. This is a rather short-sighted way, because the pleasure is very brief, and is generally followed by a discomfort dis-comfort that cannot be ignored by the boy who has amused himself. A glutton usually punishes himself. him-self. Some boys find amusement in quiet ways with books and in the house, and some care only for lively live-ly outdoor sports with many companions. So a boy reveals his character and disposition in his play more openly than in any other way. THE DAFFODIL. A little daffodil came out. While chilly winds were blowing. With some dismay she looked about. For few green things were growing. "Dear me!"' said she, "'tis sad to see How very backward spring must be." The rude wind smote her in the face. And nearly bent her double. She gasped, "This world's a dreadful place For fuss and noise and trouble. This rough wind now makes such a row But I'll keep blooming anyhow." A little maiden passed by chance, That chilly, windy weather. She spied the flower at a glance. And clapped her hands together. What splendid cheer!" she cried; "Oh, dear! Jt's springtime, for the daffy's here." The Lonely Child. Here in the lovely house of Paradise With its golden roof and its rafter. 1 am warmed -with the million lights of God. And share celestial mirth and laughter. But oft I grieve apart in lonely pain Mother, I want my little room again! With shining cherub and with angel bright, I play around God's throne of glory. But mother mine I want to sit with you. And hear you tell a fairy story. And oh, I want to hear you laugh and sing Mother, I want my toys and everything! I fyar the awful burning of God's stars; I j I fear the great winds and the spheres; 1 rnt nen the angel Sprinc comes back to earth, ' I I too shall come in riolet faces l Mother, come out to the grass and the dew, j And I'll smile from my little grave at you I i Edward Wilbur Mason in National Magazine. I lt is absolutely needful for one to be humbled I 1 ar-d prostrated and thrown among the pots from 1 time to time. Life is a school: we are perverse j I scholars to the last, fend require the rod. WE GAIN STRENGTH BY PRAYER I. do not undertake to say That literal answers come from heaven, But I know this that when I pray A comfort, a support is given That helps me rise o'er earthly things As larks soar up on airy wings. In vain the wise philosopher Points out to me my fabric's flaw; In vain the scientists aver Tli8t "all things are controlled by law."' -My life has taught me day by day That it availeth much. to pray. . I do not stop to reason out The why and how. I do not care. Since 1 know this that when in doubt Life seems a darkness of despair. The world a tomb; and when I trust. Sweet blossoms spring up in the dust. Since I know in the darkest hour. If I lift up my soul in prayer, Some sympathetic Loving Power Gives hope and comfort to me there. Since balm is sent to ease my pain. What need to argue or explain I Trayer is a sweet, refining grace; It educates the soul and heart , It lends a lustre to the face, And by its elevating art It gives the mind an inner sight 1 That brings it near the Infinite. From our gross selves it helps us rise To something which we yet may be. And so I ask not to be wise, If thus my faith is lost to me Faith that with angel's voice and touch ' Says : "Pray, for prayer availeth much !" ! . Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Altar Boys. The position of an altar boy is one of honor and of special priileges,- which are not fully appreciated appre-ciated by some. The altar boy should understand that he is in the august presence of the Unseen God. and should at nil times comport himself accordingly, ac-cordingly, and not giggle and laugh, turn around and run a race up and down the altar' 3 top? to eo who can take hold of the dalmatic first or ring the bell. Think a little, boys not alone God sees you, but the congregation, which is apt to speak of it. Western Watch. ' The Beautiful Women. One woman went out on the way of shame, And the wide world marveled and read her name And praised her beauty and gaped and cheered When, light and fluttering, she appeared. But one little woman in hodden gray Went out to the suffering night and day j And never for her was the trump of fame j And never a cheer as she went or came. One woman went out on the path of lies, And the whole wide world praised her lustrous eyea And paused and listened when she would speak And marked the roses that graced her check. But ose little woman in dingy black Went down where the weary were on the rack And carried the woes of the sad and lone And comforted many and was unknown. One woman set foot on the road of wrong. They blazoned her deeds in a joyous song That told of her daring, her charm and wit. And the world went humming and singing it. But one little woman in homely gown Went seeking for sorrow about the town. And smiles came to gladden where she found tears, But never for her were the thrilling cheers. But somewhere the record is fairly kept. Unless at his task has the angel slept, And doubtless there, when the warder reads The beautiful tale of the golden deeds, In shining letters will stand each name Of these -little women who had no fame. But who went patiently day by day To do their work in the Master's war. I And further than all of the outmost suns Will ring the. names of the Beautiful Ones. Chicago Tribune. Elderly people look back upon the friends, relatives rela-tives and acquaintances of thirty, forty or fifty years ago and say, "There are no friends like old friends." It is natural for them to think this way, particularly when most of the old friends are buried; bur-ied; but the fact is that there are friends as true now as ever. The world is progressing in every way, and men and women are truer and better now than ever before. This is a good thought to consider con-sider during the declining years of life. |