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Show ...Our Soys ana girls... EDITED BY AUNT BUSY. This department Is conducted solely In the Interests Inter-ests of our trirl and boy readers. Aunt Busy is pia.i to hear any time from the nirros inrl nephews who read this page, and to irlve thorn nil the ndvice and help in her power "Writo on one side of the paper only. Do rot have letters too long- n!ll?rcarefulff0erdiLdand The manuscripts of contributions not accepted will hp returned. r!tcuy.AUnt Intountaln LETTERS AND ANSWERS. IVar Aunt Busy: I am just home from my va-, va-, r ioii arid J want to piveyou my love. I lmd a fine 'inio. lour loving niece, NELLIE MAIIER. Aunt Busy is plad that you remembered hor U-nr. She is a very tired, cross, fat old lady these warm days. j TIMMIE. j ITo hurst upon the street one July morning in i .'u.brcviated trousers and pink shirt the two par- j -iionts held toother indifferently hy a single sus- I i cruder ihat was Tiinmie's pride. It was no toy uf- . f.nr. un-'iided to flutter an infant, but a genuine 1 j -v'ii-np suspemkr that had seen service pr.b- : 1 !.v a cusi-ull from his father's wardrobe. Be thot it may, it conferred distinction on Timmie, and I per hi-.n quite apart from the other infants' who i vrr? held together by waists. Nothing could be finer than the boy's offhand, friendly manner. In club parlance, he was a "good, rr.ixrr " and In all his four vears he had never boon krown to meet with defeat in developing his infan-: infan-: tile schemes. There were other children in the : ::righWhood whose moral, character outranked Timniic's. but they hadn't his hair, or eyes, or smile a:id when you looked on thee physical charms you Mionimhed at once, particularly to the smile." It j v" irresistible, rippling back from eyes and mouth ' to the roots of his yellow curls. The day after he moved into the neighborhood ' interest in him was strong and he kept it stirred up to the day he left. Tjmmie was one of a large family that overflowed over-flowed a small tenement, into which." however, a managing mother squeezed a boarder. The boarder was one of Timmie's perquisites, lie rose early tojevy toll on him at his breakfast, and the table bring set nt the window, the neighbors over the way had ihe privib'2-e of watching Timmie drink large quantities of the boarder's coffee with a zest that wa audible across the street. With the departure of the boarder the child's street dav began, and he employer! his time to such good effect that he was 0011 well and favorably known throughout the entire en-tire street. It wouldn't be easy to say jut -whv r.eoplo felt so kindly towards him. Perhaps it was his impartial manner, his ready comradeship, or ;t may have been that you felt it was not his wish to exclude you from his inner circle of friends. Not that he showed open preferences in individual cases, for he treated all alike. He was known to leave tiie boys on the corner, whom he had been entertaining with acrobatic feats, to beguile for a I:idy on the curb the tedium of waiting for a car. yAio was a dirnified lady, eminently respectable.' and bore all the marks of a well-spent life. Her manner was reserved, and misrht have repelled any attempt at familiarity; but Timmie never hesitated hesitat-ed over such trifles. He didn't know her name, and she didn't know his, so to relieve the awkwardness awkward-ness of the situation he studied her for a moment thoughtfully. Then, curling his arms and legs around the arc-light pole, he turned his shining face toward her and addressed her to hearty good-fellowship : "Hello, Bum." It was a pet name, but of course the lady didn't know that, and for a moment she was startled, not to say disedified. Then she smiled, and Timmie pressed his advantage with a request for a penny. When the interview was over Timmie had the penny, and the lady had parted with a lifelong belief be-lief lhat only polite children who didn't beg pennies pen-nies should be rewarded. But. after all, Timmie could not be regarded as a beggar, for he had given value in permitting her to make his acquaintance, and also by singing for hor the scale in a shrill, sweet voice, one of his accomplishments ac-complishments of which we grew inordinately proud. The boys in general, who were blamed for everything that happened, were certainly entitled to praise for brinsring out Timmie's talent. They litronized him liberally, and every evening witnessed wit-nessed an outdoor performance that the manager of a grand opera might envy, for the popularity of the tenor always brought down the house or rather rath-er the street. The Sunday dress parade of the children on their way to mass held no allurements for Timmie. Perhaps he was too young to feel an awakening of the soul, or he may have been so sure of his position posi-tion that he scorned to enlist the aid of dress. On. one occasion, however, his mother, fired. by the example ex-ample of the neighborhood, sent him forth arrayed in conventional garb, collared, booted, hatted, yes, even waisted like the ignoble rank and file of infancy. in-fancy. Boor, ambitious mother. She succeeded merely in inflicting misery on her offspring. But his suffering suf-fering was shortlived. For a brief hour he hobbled hob-bled along the pavement, so conscious of his abasement abase-ment to the ranks of the conventional that he could not hold up his covered head, and then he disappeared disap-peared to reappear in the afternoon tear-stained, 'but triumphant, his old self once more, with the suspender again doing duty. Needless to say, he was not ostracized. For one fleeting season he remained with us, then dark days fell upon Timmie and his people. The ambulance bore away the ambitious mother 1oil, combined with ambition, had done its work. Timmie was only vaguely conscious of the family trouble. Otherwise he could not have investigated the interior of the ambulance while ihe doctor was in the house, or surveyed in his usual bedonair manner man-ner the juvenile nonentities grouped below, who bad not the distinction of having such a turnout at their door. A few weeks later "To Let" stared at us from over the way. The boarder and Timmie 110 longer breakfasted in the early morning, and the child no longer sang to his delighted curbstone audiences. He was such a tiny thing that he really should not have been missed, but we did miss him he was so smart, and buoyant, and saucy. Alas! he had gone down a step in the scale of fortune, and when he appeared now and again in his old haunts we, who j had grown to love his radiant personality, grieved i to see how ill the world was using him. Anna j Morgan in Donahoe's Magazine. Life is made up of chances and trials, given to us 1o see how we will act and improve tur.'.thcs. Rev. John ijiiairbjr.v. THE BROKEN CRUCIFIX. Little Maggie climbed up on the sofa and flattened flat-tened her chubby face against the window-pane. She was alone, except for the kitten and a scantily clad rag doll, who stared straight ahead with shoe-button shoe-button eyes. The shadows were beginning to gather in the corner of the kitchen, and the wash-tubs full of soaking clothes made great patches of black on the wall. Maggie could not see into the alley below, because be-cause she was in the top of the building, and she rested her chin on the sill. She watched the tops of the ship-masts over the roofs of the other houses, gliding silently up the harbor or swaying lazily at anchorage. ''I wish mamma would tome," she lisped, ''tausc Pinky wants his milky." Pinky purred at the mention of his name and restlessly stroked his fur against the tiny shoe on the sofa. The child grew tired of watching the naked masts flit by, and returned to the rag doll and other oth-er playthings on the floor. The dirt and disorder of her surroundings did not disturb her, for she was accustomed to them both, having been born among them. But the house seemed strangely silent si-lent and the rumble of the traffic in the streets sounded louder, and the shrieks of the steamer whistles startled her, now that the playthings had lost their interest and the darkness was coming on. She sang to herself and talked to the doll find kitten, kit-ten, pausing frequently to listen for the footsteps of her mother. ''See the dolly. Pinky; nice dolly, drawer, removing re-moving the articles one by one, taking them to the window to examine them. None of them seemed to please her childish fancy, until she .discovered a small crucifix with the bronze image of the crucified cru-cified Savior. l0h! a nice dolly !" she cried In delight, kissing it arrain and again. "See the dolly. Pinky: nice dolly. ti dolly. Pinky," she said, holding it out to the kitten, who purred louder at the attention, and "kissed" the ivory crested cross. "It's my dolly, ain't it. Pinky." hngging it to her breast, "an I'm doin' to teep it. 'tause it's a nice dollv." Pinky agreed in his own way and came closer to show his appreciation, but he visited the milk tin quite as often despite his satisfaction with the. new member of the circle. ''Here tomes mamma!" exclaimed Maggie, running run-ning to the door to meet the person heard coining up the creaky stairs. ."Oh. it's papa." she nid in evident disappointment, disappoint-ment, as n man staggered into the room. The newcomer new-comer fell into a chair by the table, and after repeated re-peated attempts, managed to light a bit of candle stuck in a bottle. He then rested his head in his hands ?nd blinked at the splattering light before him in a sullen mood. Maggie stood in th? center of the mom watching watch-ing him with distrust, while she clutched the crucifix cru-cifix under her arm and pinched her cheek with her disengaged hand. The kitten ceased his purring pur-ring and rr treated behind the stove. "Papa." ventured the child in a low tone. The man gave no sign of having heard her, but. took a bottle from his pocket. The movement gave the child courage; she ran forward with the crucifix cru-cifix out. stretched, exclaiming in her glee: "See my new dolly, papa ain't it nice;" The father turned his swollen face on the. child, and gazed for an instant at the image held before him. With a muttered imprecation he swung his clutched fist and dashed the crucifix to the floor. The force of ihe blow dazed Maggie, and she, too. fdl. The kitten scampered into the hall. The man glared down at the child, and the crucifix, cru-cifix, with one arm broken off. attracted his attention. atten-tion. As he peered nt the object on the floor, the flushed face grew ashy pale and an expression of horror came as ho lealized what he had done. ''Me poor old mother's cross," he muttered, with a shudder, "an' I broke it." He was sober now. "Bad luck to-me," rising from the table and holding the bottle between himself him-self and the light, he said: " Twas you that done it, an' curse ye, I'll have no more of ye." He hesitated hesi-tated for a moment, and glancing at the child, he flung the bottle through the open door and it clattered clat-tered down the stairs. He fell back into his oluur and burying his face in his arms, sobbed without restraint. Little Maggie stopped her crying and regained the broken treasure which she fondled on the sofa. "Papa bwoke it," she said, "naughty papa, bweak Maddie's dolly and run Pinky 'way. Nice dolly, 'tause it's mine," and she kissed the bronze figure and held it up in the light. The clock on St. Stephens church in the square had struck 8, when Mrs. Kerrigan climbed the stairs and entered the room. Maggie was sleeping on the sofa, the crucifix clasped in her arms. The man had not changed his position, but was now silent. "The same old tale," she whispered to herself, as she deposited her bundles on the table and went about making the fire. "Me slavin' an' him drink-in' drink-in' an' Jimmie gone away with his papers. God help me burthen, it's heavy enough." "Is mamma tome?" asked a voice. "Yes, pet," said the mother cautiously, "it's me that's come what little of me that's left. Did Jimmie Jim-mie go away an' lave me darlint all alone?' She stooped and kissed the child. "See my nice dolly; naughty papa bwoke it." "The Saints preserve us! Where did you get that cross ? Mamma must take it, pet." "No, don't take it, mamma. It's m.y dolly, 'tause Pinky said so," and Maggie ran away to the sofa. "Indeed, tlien, an' it's a naughty papa ye have." Mrs. Kerrigan prepared the evening meal, but her husband remained quiet. She supposed he was in a drunken sleep and did not disturb him. Maggie was sleeping in her mothers arms when Jimmie arrived. He carried a bottle in his hand. "I found it outside' he explained, "an' there'll be ructions if he don't have it." "Lave it beside him, said Mrs. Kerrigan; "hell get more, so what's the use." Jimmie took the bottle to the table. The father fath-er raised his tear-stained face and looked at the astonished mother and son. "That yours, dad?" asked Jimmie, as he put down the bottle. "It was mine, but it ain't now, bad luck to it," said Mr. Kerrigan, without a quaver in his voice. "Pitch it out in the street." His face fell on his arm again, and the mother smiled at the boy. "Mike has turned agin the bottle," she said, as she wiped away a tear with her apron. "Father Kelly said he would, an' he hac. Thank God, and may he bless Father Kelly." The sleeping child muttered in dreams and held to her breast a broken crucifix. Guidon. One must ever judge and correct himself, before undertaking to reform others. St. Bernard. V ' ........... r- . - . .. If :mmm K r, nn anwnmninjwnii 11 1 .. i...m.i J.,-' m'li'r.wlnf ''Z'Z-vm'. |