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Show - . "I J LETTEB-WRITHSTG DIRECTIONS. viite or. one side, of paper only. J nut have letters too long. Ad Ire.-s all letters to "Aunt iiusy," In- ici lU'-ui.tiiiii Catholic. IHE EVENING, TRAINS. . T :':it train leaves at 6 p. in. !' r 1 1 ; - land whore the poppy blows, I A- mother dear i the. engineer, j V .l the passenger laughs and crows. Th-- iil.ii f car is the mother's arms; l ii'' whistle, a low, sweet strain; Th' passenger wink? and nous and Minks, Ar.rl B'tes t slrp vn the train. Vi f M v p. ni. the next train starts I K.ir the poppy-land alar, i '" i;e Minininns Hear falls on the onr; I All iihuanl lor the (deeping earl" I " '.;,t what is the fare t.i poppy-land? . I hope It is not too dear; f The !.ire is this a hutf and a kiss i .1 it's paid to the engineer. ; So I ask of him who children took - j i in in'.- knee in kindness great. A "Take eharge, I pray, of the trains each day. That leave at C and ." K ep watch of the passengers," thus I pray. F"r to me they are clear; Ai d a special ward. O gracious Lord, Kr the gentle .engineer."' AUNT BUST HAS HER SAT. Pear Xieces ami Nephews: ; Aunt Busy would really like to "say" in entire column to the naughty, care-4 care-4 h s5 children who are neglecting her so shamefully. For over a month she has hern asking her girls and boy? what they would do with J1.(mm. Of ' cou.se she has already received some bright letters from ninny dear, clever I children, but there are yet hundreds f who have not written at all. Among those hundreds are some of her real old chums, too. F.y the way. has any little niece heard ni Nellie Ma her, M ho used to write 1 sui-li splendid letters from Kvanston? j Aunt Busy has not heard from her for months. And, then, what about the Hcd-n lads! ThoFo dear (diaps who have to he coaxed so Jong. Aunt Busy ! revived a letter from a. nephew in ,: Putte laM week, who wrote "that the I "Sden boys did not write about Jl.onfl, s becatiT- they expected to have $1,000." He wrote some other mean things, hut t Aunt Husy would not permit the letter j i t" h" published. She will scold the j Og'len lads herself, but "woe betide" ; Hny.ine else who attempts to talk any I way hut nice about them. 'Weil, goodby, dear children. Aunt Husy hopes that you are all well and haj';y. and please, please dont I forc-i AUNT IIL'SY. LETTERS AND ANSWERS. PncatcUo, Ida., April 13. I Ic,"j- Aunt I'.usy I read your letters in the Intermountain Catholic every i v.-e.-k, but I see very few from l'oca- j te!!o. ! 1 co to St. .loseph'f school, and am in the sixth grade. My teacher's name is Sister Providence, and she is very good p, Us. I am 10 years old, but will s'H'.m he 11. I take music lessons from sister Lenus, and she is very nice to me. Well, Aunt Busy, I will close, hoping to seo my letter in print. Goodby. I am your loving niece, Ml'KA H. KANE. - right royal welcome, little niece lyra: Aunt Husy is always wishing i ; 1 find new nices and nephews, and Mt- doeS think that the dear Idaho hi; h n neglect her. You have set mi. h a good example by writing, per-' i;.; s i.v some more nieces will write, '"'it; you not exert some influence with i tr.im? There are surely many more f t'iclit boys and girls at St. Joseph's. T '1 them to write, and write soon ;-c.ii:i yourself to Aunt Busy. biamondville. "Wyo.. April 14. j'-ar Aunt Busy I thought I would v and tell you what I would do v.:;h Sl.Ooil if I had it. 1 ou!d give some to my father and Mother and grandma. Then I would i '-' v.- about J!C. to your children, and ' ;i'd keep the rest for myself. Xow, A t Husy, hoping to see my letter, I ! close with love to you and your is. From your nephew. ARTHUR A. KAVAXAUGH. At; tit Husy sends her love to the dear i !.ev who would think of his good .ttts and the dear old grandma lirst ' '1'1. She thinks yutt deserve to have J ' thousands. And you would not t the noor, either. Write soon Arthur. Eureka, Utah. April 13. "or Aunt Busy: As this is letter-'' letter-'' ' .'i .g day in school I thought I would 'J the opportunity to write you my h-Uer. I am 12 years old and go t. .Ii.sejih school. The town is very ';' : ti.e old-timers say this is the ''"' season that has ever been here. W' ::. if I h.iri that SI .000. T u-nnl.l irn to ' priests' order and become a priest ' ' i lve the rest to the poor. I have nothing more of interest to :'n I will close. I remain vour loving ' : 'w. UYKIL McPHEE. N ;i;i Husy took off her spectacles '' reading your letter, Cyril, and she !"'''. "Well, a letter from Eureka at ,s':" And such a nice letter, too: You the lirst of Aunt Busy's dear lads iitess such a grand desire. How V;;i!t r.uwv hojies that you will be a '"'M some day! If it will be your 1 oi -a ti. ii you will succeed without S: Aunt Busy hopes at some day o he.-,r about '"Father Cyril MePhee." . rite sonn again, Cyril. Brooksicle. Colo., April -14. 'ar Aunt Husy: I am going to "r;te you a few lines to let you know that 1 read in your paper that you Wanted to know what one would xJo i wit'i Ji.ooo. Xow I will tell you. I Wnu!d buy many things for the poor 'hiMren who are in need. -My rapa is 'ud or I Avould speDd most for him. 1 have- nothing more to write this time o good-bve. Your loving niece. JENNIE DALFIOR. "--ar little girl, vou must pray for 4r d-sar, oaj and be a real good girl for his sake. It will be worth more to him than' any amount of money. Write soon again to Aunt Busy, who regards you as one of her very dearest little friends. Legend of the Infant Jesus Serving Mass. Come, children nil whose jov it is To serve at llolv Mass. And hear what once, in davs of Faith, In England came to pass. It chanced a nriest wasjotirnev( Through wild'ring ways of wol-.i '"' And there, "where lew came passing bv, A lonely chapel stood. He stayed his feet, that pilgrim Priest, ' His morning Mass to say; And put the sucred vetments on. That near the Altar lay. But who shall serve the Holv Mass, For all is silent there? He kneels him down. and. patient, waits The peasants' hour of prayer. When, lo! a Child of wond'rous grace. Before the Altar steals. And down beside the lowly Priest In infant beauty kneels. lie serves the Mass His voice is sweet. Hike distant music low. j With downcast ' eye. and reverend hand. And footfall hushed and slow. Et Verbum caro factum est. He lingers till He hears: Then, turning to the Virgin s shrine. In glory disappears. Xow round the Altar, children dear. Press gladly, in God's nam: For once, to serve at Holy Mass, The Infant Jesus came. Mary E. S. Lcathlcy. The Truth That Never Fades. "Man- " said Oeorere. "next summer . I will not have a garden. Our pretty-tree pretty-tree is dying, and I won't love another tree as long as I live. I will have a bird next summer, and that will stay-all stay-all winter." "George, don't you remember my beautiful canary bird, and it died in the middle of the summer, and we planted bright flowers in the ground v here we buried it? My bird did not live so long as the tree." "Well, I don't see as we can love anything. Little brother died before the bird, and 1 loved him better than any bird, or tree, or flower. Oh, I wish we could havct something to love that wouldn't die." "George, let's go into the house. I don't want to look at our tree any longer." The day passed. During the school hours George and Mary had almost forgotten that their tree was dying; but at evening, as they drew their chairs to the table where their mother yas sitting, and began to arrange the seeds they had been from day to day gathering, the remembrance of their j tree came upon them. j "Mother," said Mary, "you may give t'.ese seeds to Cousin John; I never j want another garden." "Yes." added George, pushing the I papers in which he had carefully fold- j ed them towards his mother, "you' mav c-ive them all awav. If I could find j some seeds of a tree that would never ! fade, I should love to have a garden. ! I wonder if there ever was such a gar-, gar-, den, mother?" "Yes. George. I have read of a garden gar-den where the trees never die." "A real garden, mother?" I "Yes, my son. In the middle of the garden, I have been told, there runs a pure river of water, clear as crystal, and on each side of the river is the tree of life a tree that never fades. I That garden is heaven. There you may love and love forever. There will be no death no fading there. Let your treasure be the tree of life, and you will have something to which your young hearts can cling, without fear, ; without disappointment. Be loving, truthful, obedient, and the Lord will j prepare you to dwell in those green pastures and beside those still waters. Young Folks Catholic Weekly. Crabs and' Their Toilets. It is not generally known that there are some crabs that actually dress themselves. Some species array themselves them-selves elaborately by gathering bits of seaweed, chewing the ends and sticking stick-ing them on the shell, so as to look like a stone covered with weed. They spend houxs ,with the utmost perseverance, perse-verance, in making these species ad- j here by trying the same piece over and ! over again till they succeed. They- have a fine sense of symmety, and always put a red piece on one limb to match the red piece they have put on the other, and a green piece to match a green piece, though how they know red from green in the dark pools where they live is hard to say, unless it is by taste or smell. When once their dress is completed, it improves the older it becomes, for the weed actually grows on them. |
