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Show ! lr Aunt Busy J "Ho, For Slumberland!'' 1 By Eben H. Rexford.) A little s.'inK for bedtime, when, robed in pow ns of white, All f' r' little children set sail across the 'night For that pleasant, pleasant country wh.-re the pretty dream-flowers Mow, Twixt the sunset and the sunrise, "For the Slumber Islands, ho!" hn tli'-' little ones pet drowsy and heavy l'Js droop down To hide blue eyes and black eyes, gray yes and eyes of brown, A thousand boats for Dreamland are waiting in a row. And 1 ho ferrymen are calling, "For the Slumber Islands, ho!" Thru the sleepy little children fill the ; boats along- the shore. And po sailing off to Dreamland; and the dipping of the oar . In the Sea of Sleep makes music that '. the children only know When they answer to the boatmen's j "For the Slumber Islands, ho!" I Oh! take a kiss, my darlings, ere you I sail away from me f j In the boat of dreams that's waiting to i' bear you o'er the sea; i Take a kiss and give one, and then away you go j A-sailing into Dreamland, j "For the Slumber Islands, ho!" j AUNT BUSY HAS HER SAY. : Dear Nieces and XeDhews: Aunt Busy has this week given all j I her attention to the dear little niece and dear nephew from Ogden. Aunt Busv is quite sure that all the dear i children will find the very interesting letters and compositions written by Monica Miller and Robert Gunnip de-t de-t cidedly interesting. Aunt Busy hopes : to hear very soon again from her bright J niece and nephew. AUNT BUSY. I LETTERS AND ANSWERS. I Ogden, March 26. I Dear Aunt Busy: I send you a corn- I I position on boys. Rob Gunnip is ivrit- ing nn girls. I would like to beat. If I am as fortunate ir this composition 1: as I have been on former occasions) I in contests, he will not have much to ! I sar. You ask Father Cushnahan. as he I has been to all these contests. I know I he will not go back on the girls, even ; if the boys think they are first In war, I I first in peace and first in the heart I i of Father Cushnahan. Your loving niece, j. MONICA MILLER, f BOYS. I Bovs are the queerest animals that 1 ; ,vere ever created. There are very few handsome boys. Boys are of a rough nature, somewhat like a bear. You ! oft- n hear them saying: "I got rat-I rat-I tied." I don't believe they know what ' "rattled" means.) 'Would you please t-il them? They have two legs to I valk with, but they generally hop or ' jump, and most of them are like spin- die-shanks or beanstalks. They are I very noisy, rude, rough and clumsy. F Thev whoop, holler and tease from ! morning till night. They are also very f fond of trving to be funny at the wrong i time. Some of them are cruel; they i like to tie tin cans on dogs' tails ?nd 1 then watch them run. They are very ? . interesting, I mean uninteresting, and ! i sometimes very silly, laughing at nothing at all. Never a day passes I without some new invention. There are some exceptions to the general rule, r.nd I believe the red-robed little altar boys of St. Joseph's might be !, called the exceptions, f MONICA MILLER, f Aunt Busy wishes to first tell the f 3ta: Ogden niece how very pleased h.; is to hear from a dear Ogden ! Ki:!. Indeed, you are a welcome vis- , Jior to Aunt Busy's department. The ' 'c -i. i) girls do not treat poor old Aunt Busv verv kindlv. They neglect her, indeed thev do. You write a very f bright letter, Monica, and your article I on p.ovs," is really clever, but dear, : i dear little niece, Aunt Busy wishes ' that you could see more of the sood qualities in the boys ,than their bad i enes. Bless their dear hearts, Aunt j" Pusv dearly loves them. They do not f mean to be rough, etc. They are only I v.r.tKing off their extra amount of en- ( I "i-gy and spirits. Aunt Busy just loves ; boys who "holler" and make a dread ful noise. She would detest boys who ! I did not art like boys. Then, dear, they i l do not piean to hurt the dogs' tails vh'ii the- tie the tin cans, and Aunt I j I'.usy dor's not think that boys do i J this trk-k of late years as much as j 1 formerly. Old Aunt Busy wants .the i : de,,r i,ie( 0s to remember that the boys H 'lwve verv manv lovable traits of ! character and if the girls do not dis- I "v-r these lovable traits they are at j fault itumselvcs. Boys are just what I i the cifls make them. Aunt Busy thinks ' I the boys are almost perfect. She loves ; 1 Hieir ,misv wavs, their "war-whoop-j ; jna." their "hollering," their "tumbled- i"( ki.'s" heads, their "crooked" neck-. t,es. their aggravating little ways and, h "v-t of aii, jshe loves their open, hon- f t. boyish hearts and their dear, t'rtcht faces, that are not always so 'I'an either. Think over what Aunt I;usy thinks, Niece Monica, and all the "her ,c.nr nieces. Look for the rood 1hat is in the dear "old chaps," and ; li rot forfret that each of your dear i fathers and your own dear Father . ''uhnahan was at one time one of those dreadful animals a "boy." S ogden. Utah, March 26, 1903. r,far Aunt Busy: I send you en- J cloved composition on girls. I hope you v ni like it. Old as you are now, it may r mir.d you of your younger days. I j'-ar yoU think the Ogden boys are: ud-s." f the dear good Ogden boys Prt the title "dude," what appellation; ould y,jU suggest for the charming J f:;r!s ? Monica Miller is writing you about ! )oys- I hope she don't beat me. I ! in 10,1 you many things about con-; ts between the girls and boys of St. J"wl'li's school, but, but, but I won't 'ow'. You ask Father Cushnahan. He laV tell you if he wants to. He knows I or tvvo about us boys, and he xol keep it, "you bet." I am your lov- : 1 lnS nephew, ROBERT GUNNIP. j GIRLS, j Among the animals of this great world there is one that is very attrae- l'T' 3-?u that is in tne simple form of gin. They are very gentle; .something 'ike tame parrots that chatter all the time. They are only little "nothings" I omPared with the wise and intellectual ! beys. Some are very beautiful. But most of them get their beauty in the drug stores and paint shop, with few exceptions. excep-tions. But to use a more familiar word, they are a conglomeration of ; powder. and paint, laced till they faint, and their motto is: "I don't know," I and "I can't." But we have got a dif- ferent class of girls in our school. They are pretty nice; in fact, a very nice class of girls. I am sure that if dear Aunt Busy would visit St. Joseph's school she. too. would say they are a beautiful lot of girls. ROBERT GUNNIP. Aunt Busy is truly glad to once more ' Publish a letter from her dear nephew, Robert Gunnip. Your very interesting article on a most interesting subject. "Girls," does not quite meet with Aunt Busy's entire approval. You have written very cleverly, clev-erly, of course, Robert, because you are a bright boy. Aunt Busy would indeed feel sorry if she thought you meant all the unkind things you write. Aunt Busy knows you, and also knows what a dear, kind "old fellow" you are. She well remembers the courtesy cour-tesy shown to one "old girl" by a certain cer-tain little gentleman, when the sai.i "old girl" visited your pretty city some months ago to attend the concert given at St. Joseph's. Only for Aunt Busy really knows how very lovable you are she would lecture pretty severely for your comments on the girls. Why, some things you say are almost shocking. Just imagine the dear, dear girls being compared to "parrots"! ! ! Why, Aunt Busy's eyes are really snap-Ping snap-Ping with indignation, and her glasses have tumbled off of her funny old nose. Rather compare' them to the bright, singing bl-'ds that make happy the long, beautiful summer days. Then, you call them "nothings." Horrors! Dear boy, the days may come when you will discover dis-cover that girls are never "ciphers" only. Of course they are beautiful. Bless their sweet, sunny faces and smiling smil-ing eyes! Aunt Busy is sure that you are mistaken about the "powder" and "paint." Robert, dear, just confess that you have been to a circus recently. Aunt Busy is sure that you got your terrible opinions of the dear, good girls under a canvas tent. Look for the attractive at-tractive qualities that the girls possess, Robert. Remember that girls are just what the boys make them. How can the girls be patient and quiet if the boys tease and ridicule them? Aunt Busy loves gentle girls, but she thinks that all girls should have a fair amount ofwell, she will call it "spunk," or the boys will impose on them; Aunt Busy loves to see the girls look neat and stylish; she loves to see them be particular par-ticular that their faces are always clean; Aunt Busy loves to see them keep their hair nicely arranged, in short, Aunt Busy thinks that it is the duty of all girls to look attractive at all times, but she certainly does not approve ap-prove of the "paint and powder pretti-ness." pretti-ness." Now, Robert dear, Aunt Busy wants you and all the dear nephews to consider con-sider very carefully the lovable qualities quali-ties of the girls, always remembering that vour dear mothers were girls once. Remember that your dear fathers have alwavs thought those dear mothers to be the sweetest and dearest of people, although they were at one time, "GIRLS." Remember that the sweet-faced woman wo-man bending over your desk while you study and write was once a "girl." Aunt Busy is very sure that you will some day change your opinion of the girls. She would be sorry indeed Jf your opinion of them would not improve as you grow older, because Aunt Busy knows you and is very fond of you, so she realizes what a loss your friendship would be to your young lady friends . Do Not Swear. Let me advise you to avoid swearing, as there are reasons for doing so on which I recommend you to reflect. Swearing makes God your enemy. Swearing makes good men avoid you. Swearing shuts you out from the kingdom of heaven. . Swearing drives away the Holy Spirit of God from your heart. j Swearing makes the devil your friend. Swearing gives the devil power over vour soul. , Swearing makes bad men seek your company. Swearing hardens your heart. Swearing increases the number of your sins. ., , , Swearing opens to you to the door of the bottomless pit. Let me ask you what good does swearing do you? None. What harm does it do you? - It destroys de-stroys your soul. Bless and curse not. Jesus came to bless mankind Do you wish to jundo all that he did for you? Eleanor's Lesson. "It was just too funny for anything. I wish you could have been there." "What, Eleanor?" "Oh, the way Mary Powell read this morning. Miss Morrison called on her first, and she got up, and with the most solemn face, read 'Vittle spark of heavenly flame.' I had such hard work not to laugh in her face, and everybody every-body in the class smiled," answered Eleanor. . , , Bessie Holmes smiled faintly as she said, "Poor Mary, she dees have hard work to learn, doesn't she? But I always, al-ways, feel sorry for her. She tries so hard and is so sensitive." Eleanor Griggs pushed back her heavy pompadour as she replied, with a laugh, "Of course you do, you re so kindhearted, but I never have any patience pa-tience with such dumb people. I suppose sup-pose it's because I always, see the funny side of things." "How does the new scholar get along, that girl who came the day I left I mean?" inquired Bessie. "Pretty well In most of her lessons, laughed Eleanor, "but that reminds me of her singing. I meant to tell you about that.. Whenever we have l drill, fn vocal music, she rolls her ..eyes, . 1 waves her hands, and makes her mouth such a funny shape. And the first thing she knows she is singing away above everybody else, like this," and Eleanor tried to imitate the new girl's efforts at singing. , f A severe cold had kept Bessie in- ! doors for several days. During part of the time she had been In bed and too ill to see her girl friends. So, as this was Eleanor's first visit to her since her ab-'! sence, she had much to tell and Bessie ' much to hear. " , j "Grace told me that Miss Morrison ; had to stay home one day last week," 1 was Bessie's next' remark. j "Oh, yes." exclaimed Eleanor, "and ' did she tell you what a funny time we . had with the substitute?" j "No," replied Bessie, 'she just said that Miss Helen Gleeson took her place." "Yes, she did, and it was the first day she had ever taught anywhere, and we ' had such fun teasing her. I started it and the others joined in, at least some of them did. And for a while poor Miss ; Helen didn't know what she was doing." do-ing." I "Olv Eleanor, that was almost too ! i bad," reproved Bessie. "You know she I j never thought of teaching till after Mr. : I Gleeson lost his money. Then she tried I so hard to get something to do, but j j never succeeded at anything. And if I j she doesn't get along well as a substi-i substi-i tute ycu know it will hurt her chances i of getting a position." , ! "Oh, rihaw, Bessie," said Eleanor. "You kn?w I didn't mean any harm, i I We were just in fun. And the way in which she kept saying, 'Young ladies, what do" you mean?' was perfectly rich,", and Eleanor laughed at the thought. . The conversation of the two girls was j interrupted by the sound of voices in th.e next room. A few minutes later there was a rustle of silken skirts in the hall, then the front door opened and closed, and a handsomely gowned wo- ! man descended the steps and entered the waiting carriage. "There's your aunt, Mrs. Reynolds, isn't it? I didn't know she was here," remarked Eleanor. "Yes, she and mother were in the next room when you came, but it has been so quiet in there I thought Aunt Bessie must have g5ne," explained Bessie, adding in a plaintive tone, "I do think Aunt Bessie might have come in to tell me good-bye." "She is going to have a large party soon, isn't she?" was Eleanor's next question. "Yes, some time next month if I'm able." answered Bessie. "At first she expected to have it next week. Then after I was taken sick she gave it up." "I suppose it will be a very nice affair," af-fair," Eleanor continued. "Yes. lovely." said Bessie, with enthusiasm. en-thusiasm. "You know Aunt Bessie always al-ways entertains nicely." "Yes. her house is so lovely, it did look so pretty last year when she gave you that party, and everybody had such a fine time. Do you remember Mary Powell's telling your aunt that she liked to go shopping, she thought the apartment apart-ment stores were so interesting. We've had it for a joke ever since." "I had forgotten that," said Bessie, "but Aunt Bessie didn't care. She knew Mary just made a mistake." "Will this party be as large as that one?' 'interrogated Eleanor, after a little lit-tle pause. "Oh, yes, larger, I think," was Bessie's Bes-sie's reply. "Aunt Bessie showed me the list, and it had the names of everybody every-body who was there last yearand some new names besides." . "Good," exclaimed Eleanor, "then I'm going to be invited. I'm so glad. I'll have a new dress made, for I need a new. party 'gown. I guess I'll get pink, for I wore blue last year." "That will be pretty," said Bessie. "I'm going to have white point d'esprit. It is partly made now." Just then the clock struck 5 and Eleanor jumped up, exclaiming: "There is 5 o'clock. I must go now. Goodbye, Good-bye, Bess, I hope you will soon be out." ' "Good-bye, come again," answered Bessie. "Yes. I will, good-bye," and Eleanor hurried away. The days passed on as days do, some quickly, some slowly, some happily, some sadly. Bessie was quite well and able to be at school again. The invitations for her party were duly sent out. and one morning when Bessie reached school she was met by a merry crowd of girls exclaiming. "I got my invitation for the party." "Isn't it fine-w-e can go?" "I think it's lovely of your aunt to give it for you, Bessie," and so on. Eleanor alone said nothing. Bessie wondered at her silence. But as soon as Eleanor had an opportunity op-portunity she said, "You told me your aunt had me on her list, and so I got a new dress for the party, and am having hav-ing it made, and then never received an invitation." ' "You didn't?" queried Bessie, in surprise. sur-prise. "That's strange, I saw your name myself. I'll ask Aunt Bessie about it this afternoon." Accordingly that was the first question ques-tion with which she greeted Mrs. Reynolds. Rey-nolds. That lady looked very grave as she said, "Do you remember the afternoon after-noon Eleanor spent with you when you were shut in with your cold?" "Yes, Aunt Bessie, you were In the next room when she came." "Yes, your mother was called away, only for a minute, I supposed, though it proved to be several. I was reading, but I could not help overhearing "what she said. I coughed, but you did not seem to hear me, so much as I disliked it, I was obliged to listen while Eleanor ridiculed one after another of her friends. First was poor Mary Powell, then some new scholar, and then poor Helen Gleeson" "Oh. Aunt Bessie," interrupted her niece, "Eleanor really doesn't mean any harm. It's only thatshe has such a keen sense of humor.and always-sees the funny side of things." Mrs. Reynolds shook her head. "Seeing "See-ing the funny side of things is very different dif-ferent from ridiculing people, and that afternoon I made up my mind that I could not expose my guests to the chance of begin made fun of and laughed at, by Eleanor for weeks to come, so I, crossed her name off my list for the eighteenth." Bessie looked distressed. "Oh. Aunt Bessie, I am so sorry, for I told Eleanor that she was to have an invitation, "so she has had a new dress made to wear, and she will feel so badly, and she will think I didn't tell the truth unless I can explain It to her, and I don't like to do that." Mrs. . Reynolds thought a moment, then she said, "Since you told Eleanor that she was to be a guest at the party I will send her an invitation yet, and you may explain to her why it came so late. And another time, dear, don't tell Eleanor that she is to come." So as gently and kirtdly as possible Bessie did her aunt's bidding. Eleanor was surprised and hurt, but she was too bright a girl not to understand that Mrs. Reynolds was right. So she decided de-cided then and there that in the future she would have fun and be glad and merry in some other way than by laughing at her friends and acquaintances. acquaint-ances. ' ' |
