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Show : j J BY AuNT- Bu li MiiSS i j 7-?mu4 j I fcy??2Sk '": ::&&f ' fefeffiSnl- ffiA me yesterday what she did, and I just X fcm irffcVZ? mi&WK th0Ught next time rd tfy too. And vfc iNgli Wf rattV'1 so tcday' when 1 began feeling blue J lWl$nWm$&:Z 1 did hat she said, and decorated fi vWljSjMr tWnN glad, for they are all gone, and I am s XwwS 0 'h.M-WWW rPt- Mrs' Morris did not at all under-, under-, f&MJM Vfl&Mj&i tVffir 'fwii stand, but she only said, as she kiss-la kiss-la t 1 .4:'-4 Afc&iiwgg SR3$M fi'-? 1 ed the bright little face: SSSllh iffl'SlS- "Inldeed I am glad, darling; and I V-SlVfl5 ""MA VI 11 nhll how very pretty your room looks! I ".ILCV il S il .' am sure, if this is all it takes to cure I -V ';V7&? Jfr?S W those dreadful blues, my little girl ' Vw'V 1 T"-- CAl win never let herself have them f AVSo8-" tS MtT again will she?" - 3rFV' i Jts. "No indeel. I shant, mamma; and , &K faA V 'CT? l " 3 as soon as 1 feel them coming, I'll r i? I' 0 p A begin to decorate right away, and ZrfCvMH fil'l'N H V JT. J 'm scare them off. Miss Alice is always 'fiVfkinfti HK'::i 7 V yTV 7P so sweet and I was so glad when n- If H.:1Hf she told me how she kept the blues st I " ' . 1 ;':l7.''' . t$&';Jfr , w away, for maybe I can be as sweet as lj. I " ' i 1 lh she is." a. I I : "What can the child mean?" Mrs I AUNT BUSY HAS HER SAY. a- I ' Pit ; Dear Nifcos and Nephews: ?s Aunt J'.ui-y is sure that all the dear' k children niust be tired trying to guess a f her a ?o '1G thinks that some oth-ir oth-ir er c,;io;;in may prove more inter-Ill inter-Ill I cstir.sr- really she is so old that it is I cot worth while to think about her x I a"- A':tt Eu?y is anxious to hear ? from hrr cirls and boys about their aml'itions for the future, when they i: leave Fdnol. ! Of cn:rf e the boys will have to cho?5 Fon-e profession as will some j' cf ti;c .cirls. Aunt Busy thinks this j will inove an interesting subject for a ! botb. Perhaps some of the nieces do rrt v. :?h to consider the question I of havir. to work. Well, these little ' L girls car toll what they think will be ' 1 their favorite study, pleasure or ac- ' coror:.-!l!!:cnt. Aunt Busy hopes to : receive ronlios from all the dear chil- : i drcn. Ti::s will be a far more inter- 1 enin? ftihject than Aunt Busy's age. " The peer old soul! VThen Aunt Busy 1 I mako.s her last will and testament she ' will instruct her lawyer to have her ; ' zze put cn her tombstone. Then the i ' nieces and nephews will know her ; j a;e if they wish. Now, about the new : ; Eiiljcct for ycu to write about! Aunt ; j Busy hr-pes that the interest in tne ' i sul-jAot will begin right from this i veik. Tn not neglect Aunt Busy f dnrin z v icinmi. Kemei'jber thai she ; will like to hear about picnics, fishing ranio-. !al:e parties, mountain climb-in? climb-in? ar..1 all other pleasures of the tapr E'ir.imer das's, even if she ; ! $rpnds t h o summer at her desk. You f will vst ferret during vacation how to ; vri?e lctrs if ycu remember, Your leving old, I j AUNT BUSY. j LETTERS AND ANSWERS. ?a:t Lake City, May 25th, 1903. IV r unt Pusy: I have been I ttinkisg for a irnrc time about writ-( writ-( ing to you and asking you to take ; ' n:e as a new niece, but never really real-ly did it till now. Now, about that age of yours. I ! think I'll ruPKs vnn must, bp 2R or 27 years old, because if you were really ; old you would not like anyone to guess it. Of course if you were old you might, but you would be an ex-: ex-: ception cf all the old ladies I ever saw. ' I am thirteen years old and in the ? seventh grade, A class. I go to the public school and if that closed when tier thought it would, I could not graduate next year. I would go to the academy, but it is too far away. I must close now, but will write soon again. Your loving niece. VIVIAN ALFORD. J Aunt Busy Is always pleased to discover dis-cover a new niece, Vivian. What a pretty name you have. You also rite an excellent hand. Dear little -rl, Aunt Busy is well past 27 years, tat a 'wise litle person you are to trow fr, r,v,r-h about the "old ladies!" Anr.t D r-v thirks you must be a very bright zir to be so well advanced in school. A success for your work Eet year, Vivian. n.-k Springs, Wyo., May 30. Dear A.r.t Busy: I now take pleas- ) ye to write to you to let you know jam wc:i an 3 hope you are the same. I vrote a letter to you a long while aeo and I ttd not see it in the paper as I supr.ecp you had so many letters see to that you never had time to M my irt j0r jn tne paper so i thought 1 0l!ld try again. I must close now, 80 good 1 ye. From your niece, . i SARAH LAVERTY. Ar,t r;:;sy feared that the dear lit-,e lit-,e Eiee in Reck Springs had forgot-en forgot-en hr-r. f your etter not pub- I JJ--d; 'cavnh, Aunt Busy did net re-Tt re-Tt lf' alwa7s uses every letter '.t1T'',' !'l!hough the children must; ' tu f lotters to te answered in j n- 'rite scon again, Sarah. j j. Secret Valley, May 29. I to, r Ajat Cusy: 1 vant to guess JT You say you have gray r. xy grandpa has gray hair and ; j ls i 'i. so I guess you are 70. I was rears cM jn April and Mamma made tt? a tir. uCiy cake kip t0 school and I have a little ' ; vSiT ramed Morley. I have a Uece 6 garden, too. Your loving EDNA MURPHY. Wnt 131:57 Js very pleased to hear ; Bjm you. ntUe Edna No Aunt iS r'ot 70- Write soon again, abo't nJnt Cusy is anxious to hear w ne vegetable garden. Give her 'e t0 the dear brother. !0y0w the Egyptians Manuaged. r fanners turns over the ground I . i !Ifp . - with a steel plow drawn by horses. Then he makes the ground fine with a harrow, which usually has iron teeth, like the teeth of a comb. After Aft-er that he sows the seed and rakes it in with the harrow. The Egyptians at first had no plows or horses, but they were ingenious and soon found a way out of the difficulty: they used their pigs for plows and horses. Once every year their great muddy river overflowed its banks, as it does to this day, and covered the laad with mud, in which were many water animals. When the river went back! into its channel again the fields were 1 dry. Then the Egyptian called his1 pigs together by blowing a shell horn ard turned them into the field. The pigs were happy, for there was a feast before them. At once they put in their noses and began to plow for wriggling worms and dead fishes. Soon a large field was plowed by the ncses and harrowed smooth by the feet of the pigs. The work was done for the present. The pigs were called off, and the seed wheat was snwpd over the field. Then the seed had to be covered. Here was another puzzle. puz-zle. The Egyptian wants the feet but he doesn't want the noses this time. While the pigs could harrow in the seed with their feet, they could also, if turned into the field with free noses eat op all the seed. So the Egyptian caught every pig and tied a tiny basket, bas-ket, or muzzle, over its nose. Then he turned the whole herd into the field again. Then there was trouble. The pigs cculd see and smell the wheat, but could not eat it Half crazy, they scampered ever the whele field, and thus trod in and planted the seed. After the crop was grown and ripe, the straw with heads full of wheat was spread on a clean piece of ground. Again the pigs, with their noses muzzled, muz-zled, were turned on to thresh the grain with their feet. Necessity, you know, has ever been the mother of invention. An Inherited Taste. Sweetmeats appear to have been plentiful in the American colonies from early days, according to Alice Morse Earle. The first native poet of New England wrote complainingly as early as 1675: From Western isles new fruits and delicacies Do rot maids' teeth and spoil their handsome faces. j Strings of rock candy came from China, but were rivalled by a distinctly distinct-ly native sweet maple sugar. Children Chil-dren who lived in coast towns reaped the sweet fruits of their fathers' foreign for-eign ventures. When a ship came into port with eighty boxes of sugar can. dy on board and sixty tubs of rock candy, poor indeed was the child who was not surfeited with sweets. There was a sequel, however, to the toothsome tooth-some feast, a bitter dessert. The ship that brought eighty boxes of candy also fetched a hundred boxes of rhubard and ten of senna. Edith's Cure for the Blues. Little Edith Morris had had the "blues," as the family called them, so many times in her short life that they threatened to become chronic. Grandma said it was her liver, papa said she studied too hard, while thoughtless Tom said "She is just cross." Mamma felt very sorry about it, and dreaded the appearance of j the blues, which so quickly changed a sunny little girl into such an unlovely one. As Mrs. Morris returned from shopping shop-ping one day, Tom greeted her at the door with the announcement, "Edith's got the blues again." "Oh, dear! has she?" said Mrs. Morris, Mor-ris, adding, anxiously, "I hope you have not been worrying her." But Tom only shook his head as he , hurried off to join some friends at basket ball. A few minutes later, as Mrs. Morris passed the door of Edith's room, she was very much surprised to hear her singing softly. "Well, Tom must- be mistaken this time," she thought, as, pushing the door open, she peeped in upon a pretty pret-ty picture. Edith, wearing her prettiest pret-tiest house dress, and a rose in her hair, was arranging a bouquet of violets vio-lets on the mantel and had just finished fin-ished decorating the little room with pretty pepper branches. The furniture furni-ture had been dusted and polished till it fairly shone in the bright sunlight. At " Mrs. Morris' surprised "Why, dear, what is It?" Edith ran quickly to her, exclaiming: "Oh, mamma. It does work! Isn't it lovely?" "What works, dear? I don't understand." un-derstand." "Why, Miss Alice's cure. She told me yesterday what she did, and I just thought next time I'd try it, too. And so today, when I began feeling blue I did what she said, and decorated for the blues. And. oh! aren't you glad, for they are all gone, and I am so happy?" Mrs. Morris did not at all understand, under-stand, but she only said, as she kissed kiss-ed the bright little face: "Inldeed I am glad, darling; and how very pretty your room looks! I am sure, if this is all it takes to cure those dreadful blues, my little girl will never let herself have them again will she?" "No, indeed, I shant, mamma; and as soon as I feel them coming, I'll begin to decorate right away, and scare them off. Miss Alice is always so sweet, and I was so glad when she told me how she kept the blues away, for maybe I can be as sweet as she Is." "What can the child mean?" Mrs Morris asked herself when alone in her own room. "I shall ask Alice about it, for I am quite puzzled." When Miss Alice, who was Mrs. Morris' dearest friend, dropped in that evening, Mrs. Morris carried her off to her own little sitting room, and when they were comfortably seated came to the point at once: "Now, I want to know all about this new cure." "What new cure? What are you talking about, Eleanor?" asked Alice, in surprise. "Why. you know. What wasit you told Edith yesterday about decorating decorat-ing for the blues?" "Decorating for the blues? Why, J-es; I told Edith I was going to decorate dec-orate for the blues, but what has that to do with the 'cure' you -asked about?" "Why, she said you told her to decorate dec-orate to cure the blues, and tcday I found her trying it. It effected such a wonderful cure that I thought I would ask you where ycu got your idea." Miss Alice was thoughtful for a moment, mo-ment, then, smiling brightly, said: "Tell me, Eleanor, what did the child do?" After Mrs. Morris' explanation Alice laughed softly, and said: "I see it all now. I remember meeting Edith yesterday, yes-terday, and I told her I was going to decorate for the Blues. To stimulate stimu-late interest, by a little friendly competition, com-petition, we have classified the Sunday Sun-day school into two divisions the Reds and the Blues. The Blues gave a reception to the Reds, and as I am one of the Blues, I helped in decorating decorat-ing the room. I supposed Edith knew about the Reds and Blues, and did not think of her taking it in the way she has, though I am not at all sorry; and," thoughtfully, "I am not sure but that she is right, after all." Edith is a young lady now, and has often laughed over her curious mistake; mis-take; but she still insists it was an excellent idea, and even now, when she feels herself getting blue, if you chanced to peep into her room, I would not be at all surprised if you should find that she has been decor- dnug iur me umes. ijenna vv. .Henderson .Hen-derson in S. S. Times. Those Company Manners. "I wish we had company all the time," said Ned, as his two little friends passed out of the lawn gate. "Why?" asked grandmamma, "Why, 'cause everyody's so much nicer when company's here," responded respond-ed the little boy. "Well, perhaps that's because you are nicer, too," suggested grandma. "The other day, when Mildred asked you for your jumping rope, you said you were going to use it all the afternoon, after-noon, though you had just asked Benson Ben-son to let you go driving with him. But today I heard you 'offer it very politely to your 'company.' " "Let's us have a 'company manners club'!" cried Jim. "Let's!", said Mildred, with her eye on the rope; and Ned did not like to refuse to be a member. By degrees others among the children's' chil-dren's' friends wanted to be a "C. M. C," as they called it, and the result was that teachers and grownups generally gen-erally wondered what had come over the little people who used to whistle through the halls and slam doors and forget to say "Thank you." And, though all this happened some years ago, and the charter members are now np.arlv crown nn. thft clnh is ctill in existence, and it might not be a bad idea for the little men and women wo-men who read this to start branch clubs of their own. Many a person, old as well as young, who knows how to make visitors have a delightful time forgets entirely to be courteous and unselfish and gentle with "only home folks." And yet it is the home folks who really are the dearest, and to whom most is due. What could a member of a "company "com-pany manner club" do? Why, for instance, in-stance, when papa comes home tired, run to hand him the newspaper before be-fore he has asked for it. Respond pleasantly and cheerfully to all that mamma asks. Place a footstool at grandma's feet at table if the maid or any one has forgotten to do so. Do not- crowd or jostle one another on the stairs, without some word of excuse, and a thousand things one would do for company or a friend daily. The home dinner can be made more than a thing of mere necessity If a little boy or girl can think of some amusing incident to relate that has occurred during the day, while all that papa or mamma may say can be listened to with strict attention. And then there might be a fine of one penny or two for every time a member broke the rules. |