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Show DIRECTIONS FOR LETTER WRITING. WRIT-ING. Write on one side of paper only. Do not have letters too long. Address all letters to "Aunt Busy, Intermoun'tain Catholic. Desr Nephews and Xeices. On next' Sunday many of the boys and girls at St. Mary's will have the great and wonderful happiness of re-eivinsr re-eivinsr for the first time, our dear Lord, in First H0I5- Communion. Among them will be many of Aunt Busy's nephews and nieces, and Aunt Busy-hopes Busy-hopes that vou will always look back to that day as being the happiest ef vuur entire lives. The great Napoleon was on re asked by one of his generals what was the happiest day of his life; instead of mentioning some great victory, vic-tory, as was expected, he replied "My First Communion Day." Dear bovs and giiA?, may next Sun-dav Sun-dav be a holy and happy day for you, and some time (in the dim distant future, fu-ture, we trust) when you pass through, death's portals to your 'rnal home, the "house of many mansions" may the memory of a worthy First Holy Communion Com-munion be with you. when, after earth life comes the Vision of His Face. AUNT BUSY. Gunn:son, Colo. May 2V, 1900. Dar Aunt Busy: 1 I have seen many letters in the Inter-mountain Inter-mountain Catholic, but none from Gun- I nison, so I thought I would write one. I am 10 years old, and I go to Catechism Cate-chism every Sunday. I read the letters in the Intermountain Catholic, and I Jike them very much. As my letter is getting long, I will close. From your loving niece, MARY HOG AN. Aunt Busy is glad to hear from you. Mary. She wants to hear from you .oon asain. Aunt Busy is always pleased to hear that her little boys and girls study their catechism: she knows then that they are very good. Salt Lake City, May 27. 2900. Dear Aunt Busy: My .school is closed now, and I will have lots of time to write to you. I like vacation. Did you use to like vacation when vou was a little girl? I have a Shetland pony. His name is Sam. I , an drive him fine. Are you going on a vacation. Aunt Busy? Good by. Your Win -:onENCE MATTJ,ws. Aunt Busy hopes you will write to her verv often. Yes, indeed. Aunt Busy ued to" like vacation: she used to play tichool with her littlf playmates. A lice way to spend your time would be io j.lav kindergarten. Teach .your little brothers and sisters, or 5-our little friends. No. Aunt Busy will not have any vacation. Who would look after her boys and girls? Love to Sam. Denver, May 24, 1900. Dear Aunt Busy: You are now hearing from a long lost nephew. 1 have not written to you for a long time. I passed all my examinations, exam-inations, and I will go to the Sacred Heart college in September. Have you ever seen the Sacred Heart College? 1 am going to spend my vacation in the mountains. Goodby. I will write to you foon again. Your affectionate nephew, HOWAIID IMTvDEE. Aunt Busy rejoices that her stray nephew has returned to her. She was wondering what was wrong. Aunt Busy congratulates you on your success suc-cess in school. Yes, he has seen the. Sacred Heart College. It is a very line institution. So you will spend your vacation va-cation in the beautiful Colorado mountains! moun-tains! Aunt Busy wishes you tt pleas-suit pleas-suit time. Don't forget her while you are away. "Write about your good times. How Children Should Receive Holy Communion. Many children cause much distraction to older people when kneeling at the iltar rails waiting to receive Holy Communion. Com-munion. As soon as they kneel down they look to see who is their neighbor, where the priest is, or sometimes they actually look down the aisle to see how many are coming. This is a great distraction for others, besides showing little respect for the Blessed Sacrament. Sacra-ment. As soon as you reach the rail, do not look one way or the other, but kneel down quietly and take the altar cloth in your hands, form "the shape of a table by placing both thumbs and the first fingers together and stretching , them out a little. Keep your eyes cast down, but do not close them or you will not see the priest when he reaches you. When it is your turn to receive, have the altar cloth well below your chin, raise your head, throwing it back a little, put out your tongue, and rest it on your under lip. Open your mouth bo that your teeth will not touch the prieRt's finders. As soon as the priest places the Blessed Sacrament on your tongue, withdraw it gently, and do not allow the Host to touch the roof of the mouth, but allow it to rest on the tongue for a second, then swallow gently. ' If the Sacred Host happens to stay in the roof the mouth, dislodge it with your tongue, and never on any account put your finger in your mouth. Do not ! look around when going to your seat, 1 but go quietly and modestly, with your hands joined and your eyes cast down. Left-handed Party. 'A hostess often finds difficulty in entertaining en-tertaining her young friends. Here is a novel way to spnd an evening which will afford amusement to old and young. In sending out invitations request each iruest to come with the right hand securely bound up. Let no one be excepted. When the hostess greets them she extends her left hand and begs them to write their names in a blank book on her desk. The page will soon have the appearance of a 3-year-old's first attempt to write. Some soloist may play her own left-handed accompaniments, and an elocutionist recite, making all her gestures with the left hand. The men must include something that will demand the use of a spoon to add to the awkwardness of the left-hand community. Drooping1 Lilies. The fairest little' maiden, whose eyes of heaven's own blue that ever smiled on earth, had that day. some two thousand thou-sand years ago, been presented in the temple. Three bright summers had left their golden radiance on the queenly head of Mary, regal David's daughter. At that tender age she was consecrated to the service of God in the temple, and to the act of consecration she consented with all the love of her pure young heart. Joachim and Anna had bidden their treasure farewell and returned sorrowing sorrow-ing to their home in Nazareth, now dark and lonely in the absence of its sunshine infant Mary's bright smile. To cheer the little maiden she was sent-forth sent-forth in the temple garden to see and admire the birds and flowers, of which she was very fond. As the lovely child in her vesture of spotless white, her bright golden tresses caressed by the fragrant evening breeze, strolled through the luxuriant garden she observed ob-served a bed of snow-white lilies. "Oh, beautiful lilies!" she exclaimed, in her soft, infantile accents. "Dost love them, my pretty one?" asked the matron, who led her by the hand. "Come nearer, inhale their fragrance, fra-grance, and mayhap, if thou promise to be very docile, I shall pluck thee one." "Oh!" answered the dear child, with sweet humility, "I shall try to be very good," and a soft blush, as the breath of the rose, suffused her cheek. Matron and little maiden approached the lilies, their fair heads and golden hearts were raised heavenward, but as Mary stretched out her dimpled hand to caress them they bowed reverently their shining heads. From that day to this the beautiful lily bows earthward as if in shame that the fair child of earth so far surpasses them in spotless purity.St. Anthony's Messenger. Deceiving Mother. "I'm hungry," announced Charlie for the fourth time that afternoon. We children were playing store out behind the house. "Let's have some crackers," he continued. con-tinued. "Allie, it's your turn to go in after" them." Father always kept a barrel of crackers crack-ers in a corner of the pantry, to aid in meeting the brisk demands our appetites appe-tites made upon motor's baking. ' "Go in careful now, so mother won't hear you," admonished Charlie, "cause when I went in last time she said it seemed as 'o we'd eat her out o' house and home. She's in tlie sitting room sewing and she won't know anything about it if you don't rattle the door-latch. door-latch. Hurry up. now, slow poke." Little Allie hesitated, a troubled look creeping over her sweet, serious face. She loved to do things for people, and have everybody happy, but still "I'd rather ask mother first," she faltered. fal-tered. "Yes. and have her say, 'No, you've had crackers enough.' I s'pose," retorted re-torted Charlie, impatiently. "But." insisted little Allie, faintlj-, "if mother don't want us to have 'em, 'twould be wrong to take 'em." "Huh!" cried Charlie, contemptuously: contemptuous-ly: "I'll go myself, 'fraid cat!" And off he ran, his curls shaking and. shining shin-ing in the sunny air. He lifted the doorlatch lightly, and stole into the kitchen. Mother was singing softly to herself, at her sewing in the next room. Charlie tiptoed to the open door and looked in. Pretty, bright, busy little mother. There were the trousers he had torn so dreadfully the other day when Smith's dog had run at him and he had climbed the fence. How; neatly she had mended them, and the stockings, too! And now she was cutting cut-ting out the girls' new dresses. Mother had lots to do, he reflected, and ought . not to be plagued. Just then her singing sing-ing took words. "Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber," she sang tenderly. Charlie had often known the comfort, of. that hymn, with those arms close about him. and those lips brushing the curls of his weary little head. He marched boldly into the other room, and stood, smiling but anxious, before his mother. "We want something to eat, mother," he ventured. "Can't we have a cracker?" ' Mother laughed. ' "What, hungry again? Don't seem possible! Well, you may get a couple of crackers apiece; and there's a jar of new cookies on the broad shelf you may each have one of those. But, remember, no more till supper sup-per time." A moment later Charlie joined us children behind the house. "Two crackers crack-ers and a cookie apiece!" he proclaimed, pro-claimed, jubilantly. But little Allie drew back in deep distress. "I don't want any," she said, sadly. Her lips quivered, and tears shone in her eyes. Charlie could not bear that. "Take 'em, goosie," he said, tolerantly. "Mother said we could have 'em. S'pose I'm afraid to ask mother?" So little Allie took her share with the rest. "Charlie, you nice boy you!" she exclaimed, contentedly. Adelaide D. Reynolds. . Keep Your Ideal Before You. What do you want to be, asks Katharine Kath-arine E. Conway, a successful author or artist? A musician holding great audiences by your singing voice or singing lingers? The principal of a school with a large salary, and the love and confidence of all who know you? Or the head of your department, and eventually the head of a large business, a rich woman, able to uplift your kindred and do great things for religion and charity? Or a leader in society, so-ciety, using your influence for good? Or, with any of these things, or independent inde-pendent of them, justa sweet, virtuous, gracious -woman, the mistress of a happy home; the loved and trusted of some good man's heart? Whatever you' want to be, keep before you as you kept the model in your copybook in child- ; hood, the image of the beautiful, completely com-pletely attained ideal. A Girl's Room. There is no place in which a girl's character and individuality may be more clearly displayed than in her own room. If she is orderly and neat, careful care-ful of her belongings or careless, destructive de-structive and extravagant in their use, her bedroom reflects these traits and peculiarities. If she loves books and pictures, one will find them in her room; if her tastes are trivial and uncultivated, un-cultivated, her surroundings will show her need of culture. If she regards her room merely as a transient spot in which to sleep and dress, and not a place ,to read and think in, or where she may sometimes enjoy the companionship compan-ionship of her girl friends, she does not know the pleasure of having a room of her own. I know a girl who said: "I have tried to make my room a sort of cast to mould me in; to make it, in other words, represent the ideal girl I wish to make myself. In that way I have a room to grow up to, as well as to grow up in. I used to be very spasmodic about keeping my room in order, going at the task with such energy at rare intervals that I quite exhausted my orderly powers. But in nay experience of trying to improve myself I find that one is helped infinitely by the simple habit of putting one's room in order and by the harder task of keeping it so. I think one is sooner able to rule one's self ,to sort out one's good thoughts and hurtful thoughts and keep the character in order if one has proved able to manage all the little trifling, external belongings." ' This girl's room, then, reflects her determination de-termination to conquer carelessness in habit and thought. AVith unconscious force she is training hers3lf in method, accuracy and thoroughness, and these qualities are invaluable in life. Her room also shows the refinement of her tastes. A book rack on a table contains volumes by some of her favorite favor-ite authors. WHICH WAS COLONEL BROOKS P In a big, sunny barn chamber stood a basket filled with hay. In this soft nest a proud mother cat was purring her four babies off to sleep. One was maliese, with sky-blue eyes. Two were black and white. But one was black all over not a white sock to his foot nor even a white necktie under the dear little chin. He was the one I chose. . I named him Colonel Brooks. A pretty big name for a kitty baby, wasn't it?.. Well, he was a darling from the very start. He loved and trusted everybody. every-body. You should have seen him step up to our big dog Rufus, without one sign of fear, coaxing him to be friendly friend-ly with 'the sweetest of love-making. And old Rufus. who up to that time had hated the very sight of a cat, fell in love with the little colonel on the spot. Colonel Brooks had never slept by himself, so he would have been very homesick, if Iiufus had not shared his bed with him. Uncle Will made it his business to see that they went to bed early. But one night, when Uncle Will was very late in coming home, he found a black kitty on the front doorstep, crying to be let in. He supposed, of course, it was Colonel Brooks. So he picked him up, put him on the cellar stairs, and told him to go straight I down to bed. , Then Uncle Will seated himself to read the evening paper. But no sooner was he settled in the easy chair than a black kitty, for all the world like the colonel, jumped into his lap, purring like a small steam engine. "Is this you. Colonel Brooks?" cried Uncle Will. "Didn't I just put you down cellar? How did you get up here?" Uncle Will hardly could believe his own eyes. So he took the cat under his arm, and went down the cellar stairs to have this strange matter explained. ex-plained. But when Uncle Will reached the foot of the stairs, the queerest thing happened. Another black cat came out to meet him. - And what was the most puzzling of all, the cat on the cellar floor was just like the cat in Uncle Will's arms, and the cat in Uncle Will's arms was just like the cat on the cellar floor. Not a white, hair on either of them, and just the same size! Oh, dear me! How was Uncle Will ever to know which was his own dear kitty? , Just then a snore came from the box where Rufus lay asleep. "Oh!" cried Uncle Will, "I'll take both cats over to Rufus. Ple'll know which is Colonel Brooks inside of two minutes." j Inside of two minutes! I should say so! In just one tail wag Rufus knew J what to do. He gave a growl that sounded like a small clap of thunder. And, lo and behold! the kitty under ! Uncle Will's right arm leaped to the top of the woodpile, hissing with anger and fright. I But the little black kitty under Uncle I Will's other arm gave a spring straight j into the heart of Rufus' warm bed, ' and began to rub noses with his big friend. Then Uncle Will knew that this one was Colonel Brooks. But, if it hadn't been for that wise, old Rufus, he might never have found out to tthis very day. Emily J. Langley, in Youth's Companion. |