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Show 7 j ...oar Sop and ffirls... - ED. . ED CY AUNT BUSY. ' This department Is cor.)tictl solely tn the lnir- tt of our E'rl and toy readers. " Aunt Busy s Rlad to har ny llrho Troro th nieces nni nephews who read th!s page, and to glr I j.fm all the ndvlce anrl help In her power. c ' Write on one Fide of trx paper only. Do rot have tetters too long-, i I Orlrfial stories and verses will be gladly recelve-J !; end cmeful'y edited. The manuscripts of contributions not accepted wlJ . te returned. ! Address all letters to Aunt Busy. Intermourtta'a i CtthoUc. Salt Lnke City. - THE LOST ROSARY. ;M !.- limn one person turned to look at Joseph llili-ry iis he trampled over the snow, which lay v.hi'e :utJ glistening under the wintry sun. They f ,..,!.. I jit him first because of his splendid physique, Jt,:,i. ( (ondIy. because he was a stranger, and was J ,ir '"' :1S a colonial. He was. in fact., just arrived "V; I i K'.iland. on the Empress of Ireland, after many j ytjir in the Canadian-Northwest, vhere he had I iei't ii well-stocked farm in charge of a hired man. I II had come to England for two reasons. One v;i- that a great longing had come over him to look 1 ova-i- mf,ro on the vine-clad cottage in Lordship 1 . Lane vhere he had passed his childhood dear, careless days before a tragedy had deprived him of J boili parents and rendered it necessary that he should gM out into the world and stand on his own Tli.' otlK-r reason that had brought him to the ' Old ( "iintry was that he hoped to tind a wife an Kndi-h girl who should transform his farm into n 1h!1!'. How he, should go about this last enter; , j.rw- ho had but the vaguest idea. A he tramped up Lordship Lane his eyes fell I 0,! "1I"'1'n? sr"aU that glittered on the snow. fuming nearer and stooping to look at the object, In- saw that it was a rosary of bright anient hyst- r cnlmvd b"ads, bound together with a silver chain. u.. lie took it up and examined it. On the same n'r.g which held the- crucifix was an oval silver incJal f f the "Children of lary." and engraved 1.,-oii it wjw tlie name, Nora Mulligan, and a djic. j ilili. ry placed the rosary in his pocket, wonder- I what was the best way to go to worl: to restore I it to the owner. A feeling of humiliation -arao f ever him at the rinding of this rosary, lie was a Catholic, but prairie life had made it difficult for him to perform the duties of his religion. Tha lit 5 , tie Cathelic Church, ten miles from his farm, was I only m rved once a month by an old priest, who bid '"-I to travel far. Often llillery had h.cu obliged to mi this occasional mass in winter because of the i" blizzards, and in summer because the intense worn j found him spent when Sunday came round. On Sunday, too, there was always he bread to i , 1-e made and the washing to be done.. llillery had ' T slipped almost unconsciously into neglecting even I his prayers. Somehow ihc sight of ibis rosary j made him feel sick at heart. J He walked on tni lu came to the cottage of his f I n'i.c.'hood a pretty college despite its wintry jrsrli. j ll struck him '.hat in the prairie he had always-I always-I pictured it in iti summer dross. 1 Ko stuol by the garden hedge, looking with sad- : j di -net! eyes at each innnlia detail. Then he noted ;' I : d at once a wriltea m'tico in the window, and read . r f 1 ; i ' Lost, betwven Lordship Lane and Eai l)ul Jv.-'M. a rosary. The finder, on bringing it tc Vine Cottage, will be rewarded."' 1 I llillery s heart gave a bound. Here was an ex- ' I eue to set foot once more in the old home. 1 Strong man though he was, his hand trembled as he lifted the latch of the gate, f He knock(d upon the door, which he noted was -liil painted green, and waited. The door was opened, and 1 he big Canadian was so taken aback by the apparition that met his gaze that for a moment he found no words. A pair of wonderful, laughing Irish eyes were looking into his in inquiry. ' T have brought your rosary," llillery blurted c ut at last. "At least it may be yours." he added. '"I didn't figure on doing a little service to some one living in my old home." -N'ora .Mulligan smiled enchant ingly. '"Why, you must be Joseph llillery,"' she said. " We have heard 'that the Iiillerys built this dear iiitle house, and that their only son went to Canada Can-ada at sixteen. Come in. 3Iy mother will bid you welcome." llillery entered the narrow passage, noted the "-tail's Cup which he had so often run when he had come in later than his father approved), and entered en-tered the front sitting room, the room in which he hud "done his lessons." Something rose in his tin "oat There were the two little cupboards on enher side of the fireplace", just as he remembered iliem. !ut his mother's work box no longer stood on top of the one nearest the window, and on the top of the oilier no longer stood the little statue 'i Sr. Joseph under a shade. Xora took down the "Notice" from between the snowy muslin curtains and turned and faced him. (1 1 i- great bulk seemed 'to fill the room. "Sit down," she said, gaily. "Oh, I never ilumkod you for bringing'back my rosary! .1 was c,i taken aback to find you were Joseph llillery. I have often wondered how you got on. You see, w- Lejird all about how you had to go away and s i k your fortune, and 1 have often said a little leaver for you a poor boy so unhappy and alone."' Hill-Tv locked at her. a trim little figure in a M MTg frock, her pretty round face revealing '"'" alluring dimples as she smiled up at him, her - hnnddhg. violet eyes meeting bis with the sweet, - I l'-e eiiresvio!i of girlhood. I "Do si; down,' siie said. "I am going to fetch mother, iind you must stay and have dinner with -: in yeur old home, and thru go .over the house. i. i I km 'v you would like to do that.". If ih'cry was quite overcome. J "T thought." he said brokenly, "that I should ' iv m-,. ihc cottage and go away. I didn't know 1 I 1.1! uot no further, but -at down on the little ' -'arim;- in front of him. Nora no i out to the kiteh-r-n. returning with her i a kindly, pleasant-faced woman. "I .iii gh:d to see you. .Mr. llillery."' she said. '"Miikf yourself at home. We have often talked " .V 'U lu re. The dinner will soon be ready- a bit ! j '"' . .!"d mulion, not much for visitors, but you v''"' 1 a""iw that. We are only poor folk, but-you .. " ;'r" 'Al -'iiie to the best we have." !; 11 la ry. who had pondered on the fact that there n,K '" one no. not one left of the friends of his ' 'I''"'1 1 i" give him a welcome lo the old country 'j v'::" M'-u'e overcome. Tlie only thing he found to . i s',y V;," "t thought f was right up against it . i '''-'''' ejune to Lordship Lane, and there was no j ''1' !l 'I of ti,(, friends I had known; and now I 1 ' " J '"-"s I'm hi luck. I tell you right here, -I - '! (.' . i11' j?'1' baiqiy this many a year. It was p. ."" ' u "' 1:,f'k my finding that roeary." i roij, '1 " "!"11'-nn stirred the fire into a blaze. The i! l M '"'H' d uncommonly homolike. c:;.,),. ii-it .n from Liverpool," went on llil- I ' lory l thought I should just look at the outside ot the eottage and go." Now, which room did you sleep in when you Tvere & boy P asked Airs. Mulligan, as she spread a white cloth on the table. "We sleep together, -Nora and I, and there are two rooms not occupied. lmt if you will take us friendly like and have the room you used to have, we will do our best to make .vou comfortable. 1 have often thought I would Jike to mother that poor little chap who had to SO away all alone." It was during dinner that Ilillerv learnt that Mrs. Mulligan's husband had been kiiled in a runaway run-away accident, and that the home was kept together by Nora, who was a typist. After dinner llillery -jsho wed his new friends thereon: the-reon: he had occupied as a boy, and mother and daughter set to work to prepare it for his occupation. occu-pation. That llillery should accept the hospitality of strangers after this fashion was not odd. lie was a Canadian and Canadians give hospitality quite freely to strangers and take it as freely m their turn. The days passed ind llillery was happier than he had becm for years. To be made much of by tender-hearted women folk, after "batching" it so long in the prairie, was to llillery heaven upon earth. He owned to himself quite freely, in the solitude of his chamber under the eaves, that the pair of roguish Irish eyes which looked out from Nora's pretty face had no small part in the making mak-ing of the enchanted land in which he found himself. him-self. There was no servant in the modest home, so llillery helped the gentle mother while Nora was at the office where she did typing, which was situated situ-ated at Peckham live. Mrs. Mulligan was not a little astonished at Ilillery's knowledge of housework house-work and the expedition with which he accomplished accom-plished household tasks. llillery, for reasons best known to himself, talked a great deal to Mrs. Mulligan Mul-ligan about the ideal farm he had built, and about his general prosperity, and about the delights which a free life in the Canadian prairie could yield. "It is all perfect out there at my place, except for one thing," he said one morning, when he had just finished chopping up some boxes for firewood. "And what is that f ' sh'e inquired, looking with keen interest into his kindly weather-tanned face. "I want a mother and a wife at the farm," he told her. Then she understood. It was when llillery and Nora were returning from Benediction on the Sunday evening following that llillery said: "You promised a reward to the finder of your rosary, Nora. I want my reward." She laughed shyly. Perhaps she guessed what was coming. "I want a very big reward," llillery went on. ''I want you. Do you think you could trust yourself your-self to a rough westerner C "To you I could," she answered, almost in a whisper. So do small events sometimes lead to great ones. That llillery took a sweet wife and tender mother back to his farm in Canada was all due to the lost rosary. !Mrs. Coulson Kernahan in the Universe and Catholic Weekly. London. October. The fruits of the earth are garnered, Fast ilies the waning year, The fairest month of autumn Is pledged to Mary dear; . . . A rich embroidered carpet In green and gold and red Elecked here and there with russet Over the world is spread. Before the shrine of Mary Each bright October day, Her favored children gather The rosary to say; L'uto the pleading voices She bends a list'ning ear, Of all the prayers we offer That prayer she holds most dear. We bring bright autumn flowers And weave a chaplet fair, While nature's purest incense Lingers in the air. But sweeter e'eii than perfume. Is the prayer of Mary's own ; She bears each heart's petition Unto her dear Son's throne. 0, Queen of the highest heaven, O radiant Lady blest, Show thyself a Mother, List to our fond request. Lead thy faltering children Thro' life's gloomy night, Into the glowing splendor ' Of heaven's eternal light. Medical Advice. The doctor looked serious. "You should be very careful for at least a month." he said. "Is it as bad as all thatf asked the patient, anxiously. "If the result is to be as satisfactory as I would like to have it, you cannot follow the rules that I lay down too carefully." "I will do exactly as you say," said the now thoroughly alarmed patient. "A am I eating too heartily?" . . "Much too heartily. You should eat simpler food and not too much of it. If you follow my advice ad-vice you'll cut your butcher's and grocer's bills just about in half." "I'll do it, doctor." "You ought to take more exercise, too." continued con-tinued the physician. "How do you go to your office now?" "I ride." . "Stop it at once. You niut walk to and from your office every day, rain or shine. Do you ever go to the theatre?'' "Quite often." "You mustn't do it while you're under my care. How about smoking?" "I smoke, of course, but only in moderation." "Don't smoke at all," instructed the physician. "Throw away all cigars, and don't buy another for thirty days at least, or T'll give up the case." "I'll do it, doctor; but but " "Do you drink?" "Occasionally, but I" "Slop it entirely." "A little claret on the table now and then oughf not to"' ' "Not a drop at any time.' "All right, doctor. What next? "Nothing. Follow these instructions closely for thirty davs, and by that time '' . "YesC said the patient, eagerly. "By tha't time, what?" "Bv that time," repeated the doctor, "you ought to have saved enough to pay me tlie balance due on that little bill you have owed me for a matter of about eighteen months. Good-day " THE PRIEST CONVERT. Whether the vision dawned In pausing on the oar some summer's day Between the banks of Cam; or in some Town's Mysterious solitude of teeming life Fraught with men's destinies; or striding swift Along the pilgrim way of gentle downs While bees hummed in the thyme some breezy noon Or with the turning page, some single word, Or in the stillness of one hallowed hour Beneath the brooding dome where holy hands Uplift the Christ we know not, but we know That vision came the City on a Ilill ! To you from then the whole world hung in space So great, so small, so held within the will And great design of God, that your life's cup Surged to its utmost tide. The least impulse It must o'erflow to impart. The least offense Must still o'erflow, for that could not be held Was not of God. And swift in sudden light You saw illum'd the awful course of man Across the centuries, saw nothing stay The perfect plan of God, saw Truth one whole, One flawless sphere, and all the dark world sown With the red rose of Sacramental Life. And here are hundred faces turned to catch Reflection of your vision in the Mount! While through the dusty chambers of the soul Blows the good wind of God, and the sap stirs And wakes to second spring our land of Joss. But since your eyes, fixed on celestial heights, Might miss some pitfall, children's hands are held In prayer for you, and holy nuns have told The chaplet for your good, and blessed saints Are all astir with joyous agencies. And still we think your busy angel goes Apace and ardent with your eager heart! A. K. M., in Irish Catholic. Hard-Hearted Boys. If there is one thing God does not like, it is the reckless neglect of a mother's advice. A boy may have his passions and weakness, but when he laughs his mother's counsel into scorn, he may not expect much of a return from heaven. The hardest heart for the priest to reach is the heart that is wilfully unmindful of a mother's love and that willingly does without her care. Such a heart must not be a very agreeable field for God's mercy. Young People. Cradles in Other Lands. In Lapland a new-born baby is cradled in its mother's shoe, a big affair, covered with skin and stuffed with soft moss. This the mother can hang to a tree or cover with snow while she is busy. In India the baby rides in a basket which hangs from its mother's head, or from her hips in a hammock. Sometimes the baby's nose is adorned with nose ring; and in some parts its face is -wrapped in a veil like its mother's. The Chinese baby is tied to the back of an older child; while the Mongolian infants travel about in bags slung on a camel. Strangest of all, the mother in Guinea buries her baby up to its waist in sand, and that is the only cradle the baby ever knows. Rare Indeed. "Let me sell you a rare photograph," began the versatile agent. "Nothing rare about that," said the business man. "It's a picture of Speaker Cannon, and there are thousands in different parts of the country." "Not like, this." .''.. 'iWhat's the distinction?"- "Why, in this picture the speaker isn't smoking a cigar. You'll take one? I thought so." |