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Show t Vc, c, : f r LETTER-WHITING DIRECTIONS. I vrite on one side of paper only. II lo not have letters too long. i Address all letters to "Aunt Busy," In- Ei termountain Catholic, I The Firecracker and the Torpedo. i 1 By Helen M. ' Richardson in Indies' f i "World.) ' .Said a jolly Kirccratkcr to a little plump ' Torpedo: "If you were patriotic, you would, wear ;t suit of red. And stand up in the window, just as 'straight s we do!' " And this is what the smart-Torpedo said:,.-- "'I am just as patriotic, though I wear no scarlet jacket.. For I'm no such blooming, little firebrand fire-brand as you: Tomorrow you'll be learning, when you hear the racket. AVhm a little plump Torpedo then can do:' , . AUNT BUSY HAD HER SAY. Dear Nieces and Nephews: Only the echoes of the glorious Fourth of July remain with us now It was. of course, celebrated with Ki'eat noise and excitement, as one expects ex-pects on the ration's holiday. Aunt Busy hopes that her dear children paused in their celebrating to remember remem-ber why the Fourth of July is the day of all days for true Americans. Aunt Busy wants to hear from some of her girls and boys about how they t srerit the holiday. Of course, some of J you vere slightly injured in your cele- f Dialing. She has one small nephew who nearly had his fingers blown off by the premature explosion of a large firecracker. The little fellow did not want his parents to see his hand, so J bleeding and torn, so he went to the famiij' doctor for treatment. "How much will it be. doctor?" he said. "Oh, about ?2," replied the doctor. Aunt busy's clear boy began to cry (he is only nine years old). "I'onlv have a quarter," he said. "How much will you do for that?" Of course, the doc-Mr doc-Mr laughed loud and long and immediately imme-diately dressed the poor blackened fin-prs. fin-prs. When this was through, the nephew said:' "Here is the quarter. ;ina I vU pay you trie rest in two weeks". I earn "$1.50 a week working for my father." He went away a very solemn boy, feeling sad indeed over the loss of the quarter, and very sad over the thoughts of losing his coming com-ing two weeks' salary. Aunt Busy will wait to hear if that small nephew-keeps nephew-keeps his word. She will also tell you J)r if he does. She thinks he was a brave, , manly little chap to look after himself, but for one thin,? Aunt Busy would rather have him h-ry home to tell his pareriTs, anyhow to tell his mam ma. Aunt Busy thinks the dear .mothers should be told everything, good and bad. She only wishes that she could impress this on every one of her dear nieces and nephews. Much love from your ever loving AUNT BUSY. The Value of a Smile. The thing that poos the farthest to'ard making life worth while. That costs the least and docs the most, is just a pleasing smile; The smile that bubbles from the heart, that loves its fellow man. "Will drive away the clouds and gloom, and coax the sun again. Coax the sun again, coax the sun again, again. OH OKI'S. Oh, it's full of worth and goodness, too, with manly kindness bent, H, It's worth a million dollars and Jt does not cost ix. cent, t And it's worth a million dollars and it does not cost a cent. There is no room for sadness when we see a cheery smile. It always has the same good look, it's , never out of style: r" It nerves us on to try again when failure ., - . makes us blue. The dimples of encouragement are good for me and you. Good for me and you, good for me and -.you, and you. To smile is very easy . when skies are bright and clear. And yet how oft we all forget the magic of a teai It sparkles round the heart-strings thro' many a weary day; It lifts the clouds of sorrow, and drives them ail away. Drives them all away, drives them all away, all away. Anon.' LETTERS AND ANSWERS. Can, Colo., June 29. Dear Aunt Busy It has been a long time since I wrote to you. I am going to school, so I do not have much time tj write. We have a very nice teacher; her name is Miss Congdon. I am making mak-ing a sofa pillow. Papa took my sister, brothers and myself to Cheyenne before our school started, and we had a very pleasant trip. Aunt Busy, I have a ' little baby brother three weeks old. He has not got a name yet. Can you give me a name for him? Your loving niece, ANASTASIA MANTEY. Aunt Busy is very delighted to hear from her (dear little folks from Carr. She has a particular interest in you, and 'how very pleased she is to hear nbout the new baby brother. That means a new nephew for Aunt Busy. Kiss his dear wee mouth for her. About his name, Aunt Busy would not dare to tell you how to name the dear fellow, fel-low, but she will tell you some names that she likes. Laurence is a fine name, and St. Laurence was such a grand saint. You know he was a martyr. mar-tyr. Then Francis is another good name. Some holy men had this name. Alovsius is a splendid name, and last, but not least, Aunt Busy does love the name of Patrick. St. Patrick was such a dear saint; he did so much good, and it has always been Aunt Busy's opinion opin-ion that he was an independent old saint. Ah. but dear St. Joseph. His )' name should carry a blessing on every ' boy in the world. Dear St. Joseph, who was so humble and patient! You have always heard how important it is to have a friend, a real friend, one who . will be your friend all through life, ' even to the end. Well, St. Joseph is this kind of friend. A dear kind father through life, and at life's closing and fter life's closing still a friend and lather. Next week Aunt Busy hopes to send fou a little sketch about each saint 'he has mentioned this week. Until then' goodby, little girl. Bushels of love to all. the dear little Manteys, and a great big kiss to the new baby. May God bless him. Butte City, Mont., July 6, 1902. My Dear Aunty I have no evebrows-had evebrows-had 'em last Friday morning, but Friday Fri-day night they were gone, and nearly all my hair. I tell you I have had i enough of the Fourth. I had a big bunch of firecrackers and some powder , in my hands, and in some way they all , took fire, and 1 got burned pretty .bad. J Did anything " happen to you, Aunt Busy? I hope not. Goodby. Youh loving lov-ing nephew. . PATRICK M'DERMOTT. You dear fellow; Aunt Busy is so sorry, but she is glad you did riot have your eyes burned out. Dear, dear, why don't you lads be careful? No, nothing happened to Aunt Busy. She is too old and gray to be playing with firecrackers. firecrack-ers. Indeed, she kept far away from small boys, big boys, fat boys, skinny boys, good boys, bad boys, quiet boys, noisy boys, and. in fact, all sorts of boys on the Fourth, because she knows what boys are, but bless their hearts Aunt Busy loves them all. She is only sorry when she hears that they are hurt in any way. Write soon again. THE UNEXPECTED RIDE. (Harriet' E. Foulke in the Household.) "And may we really wear your mamma's dresses?" asked Daisy: Gray, her eyes sparkling -with happiness. "Yes; mamma said we might have these two and play 'Come to see," while she went over to Aunt Ruth's," said Amy Roberts, laying them on the sofa. Daisy had come over to spend the ' afternoon with her little friend, but she had not dreamed of this pleasure in store for her. It was not long before they were arrayed ar-rayed in the coveted gowns, and were trailing delightedly back and forth. As Daisy passed the mirror she stole a furtive fur-tive glance. "I wish my hair was longer," she said.. with a righ. "We can do. as mamma did when she was a. little girl," said Amy, going to the kitchen and returning with two aprons. "Let me dregs your hair, Daisy," said she, tying the apron about her head, and coiling the end. "Now, these pins will hold it firm; what do you think of that?" "That is just fine!" said she. "Now, let us set our dolls and go outdoors; you can live on the porch, and I will live under the maple tree," said Amy. The little girls were soon busy with their housekeeping. Several visits had been exchanged, and cookies had been eaten under the trees. Presently Amy went to the gate to look for her mother. Just outside, on the brink of the hill, was the ' cart which John had left when he took Fan to the field to plow. As she saw it a bright idea came Into her mind." Gathering up her train, she went back to the maple tree, and collected col-lected her children to return Daisy's call. As her neighbor saw her coming, com-ing, she smoothed her apron and her hair, and spread her dress to the best advantage, giving it little pats to make it star. "How do you do. Miss Daisy? How are your children today?" said Amy. "They're all sick with the measles; I've just sent for the doctor," said Daisy. : "Dear me!" said . her sympathetic frined; "don't you think a ride would i do them good? They can be back before be-fore the doctor comes. You know, doctors doc-tors hardly ever are in when you send for them, and I am sure the air will help cure them. My mother always said there was nothing better than fresh air. My coach is just outside the fence." said Amy, pointing to the cart, "and I have come to take you." "Oh, how splendid!" said Daisy, clapping clap-ping her hands; "I'm sure that will 1 make them well." They were soon outside and climbing in. The dolls sat in front, while Amy and Daisy sat on the seat. Amy teetered teet-ered the cart up and down, while Daisy busily applied the whip to the imaginary horse. "Do sit ouiet. Isabel! How often i have I told you not to stand up!" said Daisy, setting the doll down very hard. "There is Mary leaning out on this side," said Amy, making a dive to prevent pre-vent her falling out. This sudden motion, with the continuous con-tinuous joltings, caused the cart to j ' give a sideways turn. It began to move slowly, then faster as it turned j J the brow of the hill, til it started back- ' ward -in 'a mad run down the slope. Swifter and swifter it sped, bumping into gulleys, striking against rocks, j barely missing the great elm, and fiy-j fiy-j ing on till the trees appeared as a blur of green, and the grass semed running ! away. IThe children clung to the seat, crying and screaming at the top of their . voices, while Mary, Isabel and the ether dolls with gay color; showed the course of the runaway. At length the cart reached the level stretch at the foot of the hill and came to a dead halt. "Are we killed?" gasped Amy. "I don't know!" sobbed Daisy. "It's stopped! Let's jump out before it begins again," said Amy, cautiously-loosening cautiously-loosening her hold and climbing out. Daisy quickly followed, with bated breath. Just then John appeared and hurried toward them, with a frightened face. He soon succeeded in pacifying the children by assuring them that no real harm was done, aside from the fright and a few scratches. "But what made it run away, any. how?" asked Amy. "Oh, I guess you whipped. the horsa too hard," said he, with a laUgh. A'GENE FIELD STORY. "Humin Natur' on the Han'bul 'nd St Jo," and Idyl of the Early Days. . Durin' war times the gorillas hed torn up most uvthe cypress ties an' used 'em for kindlin' an' stove wood, an' the result wuz that when the war wuz over there wasn't anythink left uv the Ilan-ful Ilan-ful "nd at. Jo but the rollin' stack nd i the two streaks uv rails from one end uv the road to the other. In the spring i uv '67 I hed to go out into Kansas; and, ; takin' the Han'bul 'nd St. Jo at Pal-myry Pal-myry Junction, I wuzn't long in findin' : out that the Han'bul 'nd St. Jo railroad : wuz jist the wust case of rollin' prairer j I ever struck. There wuz one bunk left when I boarded the sleepin' car, and I hed presence uv mind 'nuff to ketch on to it. It wuz then just about dusk, an' the nigger that sort uv run things in the car sez to me: "Boss," sez he, "I'll have to get you to please not to snore tonight, but to be uncommon quiet." "What for?" sez I. "Hain't I paid my an' hain't I entitled to all the luxuries uv the outfit?" Then the nigger leant over an' told me that Colonel Elijah Gates, one uv the directors uv the road, an' the richest man in Marion county, wuz aboard, an' it wuz one of the rules of the company com-pany not to do anythink to bother him or get him to sell hfs stock. The nigger pointed out Colonel Gates, 'nd I took a look at him as he sot read-in' read-in' the Palmyry Spectator. He wuz one of our kind uv people long, raw-boned raw-boned 'nd husky. He looked to be about 60 maybe not quite onto 60. He wuzn't bothered with much hair onto his hed, 'nd his beard wuz shaved, all except two rims or fringes uv it that ran down the sides uv his face 'nd met underneath his chin. This fringe filled up his neck so thet he didn't hev to wear no collar, 'nd he hadn't no iew-elry iew-elry about him excep' a big carneliah bosom pin thet had the picture uv a woman's head on it in white. His specs sot well down on his nose, 'nd I could see his blue eyes over 'em small eyes, but kinder good natured. Between his readin' uv his paper 'nd his eatin' plug terbacker he kep' toler'ble busy till come bedtime. The rest on us kep' as quiet as we could, for we knew it wuz an honor to ride in the same sleepin' car with the richest man in Marion county 'nd a director uv the Han'bul 'nd St. Jo to boot. Along 'bout 8 o'clock the colonel reckoned reck-oned he'd tumble into bed. When he'd dravved his boots 'nd hung up his coat nd laid in a fresh hunk uv nat'ral leaf he crawled into the best bunk, 'nd presently pres-ently we heerd him sleepin.' There wuz nothin' else for the rest uv us to do but to follor suit, 'nd we did. It must have been about an hour later say along about Prairer City that a woman came aboard with a baby. There warn't no bunk for her, but the nigger allowed that she might set back near the stove, for the baby 'peared to be kind uv sick like, 'nd the woman looked like she had been cryin'. Whether it wuz the Jouncin' uv the car, or whether the young one wuz hungry or hed a colic into it, I don't know; but anyhow the train hadn't pulled out uv Prairer City afore the baby begun to take on. The nigger ran back as fast as he could, 'nd' told the young woman that she'd have to keep that baby quiet, because Colonel 'Lijy Gates, one uv the directors uv the road, wuz in the car 'nd wusn't to be disturbed. The young woman caught up the baby scart like, 'nd talked soothin to it' nd covered cov-ered Its little face with her shawl, 'nd done all them things thet women do to make babies go to sleep. But the baby would cry, and, in spue ot ai ithe young- woman nd the nigger could do, Colonel Elijah Gates heard the baby cryin', and so he I .waked up. First his two blue yarn : socks came through the curtains, 'nd' 1 then his long legs 'nd long body 'nd 1 long face hove in sight. He come down i the car to the young woman, 'nd looked look-ed at her over his specs. Didn't seem to be the least bit mad; jest solemn 'nd "bizness like.'. "My dear madam," sez he to the young woman, "you must do sumpin' to keep that child quiet. These peo-i peo-i pie have all paid for their bunks, nd they are entitled to a good night's sleep. Of course, I know how 'tis with young children will cry sometimes have raised 'leven uv 'em myself, 'nd know all about 'em. But as a director uv the Han'bul 'nd St. Jo I've got to perfect the rights of these folks. So jist keep the baby quiet as you can." v . Now, there warn't nothin' cross in the colonel's tone; the colonel wuz as kind 'nd consid'rit as could be expected ex-pected uv a man who hed so much responsibility a-restin' on him. But the young woman wuz kind uv nervous, ner-vous, 'nd after the colonel went back 'nd got into his bunk, the young woman wo-man sniffled and worrited and seemed like she had lost her wits, 'nd the baby kep' cryin' jist as hard as ever. Wall, there wuzn't much sleepin to be done in that car. for what with the baby cryin' 'nd the young woman a-sayin', "Oh, dear!" 'an "Oh, my!" 'nd ! the nigger a-prancin' 'round like wid- der bewitched with all this going on, ' sleep wuz out uv the question. Folks began to wake up 'nd put their heads outern their bunks to see what wuz the doggone matter. This made things pleasanter for the young woman. The colonel stood it as long as he could, and then he got up a second time 'nd come down the car 'nd looked at the young woman over his specs. "Now, as I wuz tellin' you afore," sez he, "I hadn't makin' no complaint I uv myself, for I've raised a family of 'leven children 'an I know all about i 'em. But these other folks here in the car have paid for a good night's sleep, 'nd it's , my duty as a director of the Han'bul 'nd St. Jo to see that they get it. Seems to me like you ought to be" able to keep that child quiet you can't make me believe that there's any use for a child to be carryin' on so. Sumpin's hurtln' it I know sum-pin's sum-pin's hurin' it by the way it cries. Now, you look 'nd see if there ain't a pin stickin', into it somewhere; I've raised 'leven children, 'nd that's jist the way they used .tn cry when there wuz a pin stjekin' them." ' He reckoned he'd find things all right this time, 'nd he went back to his bunk feelin' toler'ble satisfied with himself. But the young woman couldn't i find no pin stickin' the baby, 'nd no matter how much she stewed and worrited, wor-rited, the baby kep' right on cryin', jest the same. Holy smoke! but how that baby did cry. Now, I reckoned that the colonel would be gettin' almighty mad if this thing kep' up much longer. A man may raise 'leven children as easy as j rollin' off'n a log, 'nd yet the twelfth one, that isn't Ids at all,-may break him. There is ginerally a last straw, even when it comes to the matter uv children. So when the colonel riz feet foremost for the third time outen his bunk that night or, I should say, mornin' now we looked for hail Columby. "Look a-here, my good woman," sez he to the younj woman with the baby, "as I .said afore, you must do sumpin' to keep that child quiet. It'll never do to keep all these folks awake like this. They've paid for a good night's sleep, 'nd it's my duty as a director uv the Han'bul 'nd St. Jo to pertest ag'in this disturbance. I've raised a family of 'leven children, 'nd I know, as well as I know anything, that that child is hungry. No- child ever cries like that when it isn't hungry, so I insist on your nursin' it 'nd givin' us peace 'nd quiet." "Law me, sir," sez the young woman, "I. ain't the baby's mother I'm only just tendln' it." The colonel got pretty mad then; his face got red 'nd his voice kind uv trembled he wuz so mad. j "Where is its mother?" sez the colonel. colo-nel. "Why isn't she here takin' care uv this hungry and cryin child like she ought to be?" "She's in the front car, sir," sez the young woman chokin' up. "She's in the front car in a box, dead; we're takin' the body an' the baby back home." Now what would you or me have done what would any man have done then. and there? Just what the colonel done. The colonel didn't wait for no second sec-ond thought; he jest reached out his big, bony hands 'nd sez: "Young woman, wo-man, gi' me that baby" sez it so quiet like 'nd so gentle that seemed like it wuz the baby's mother that wuz speakin. . The colonel took the baby, and now, maybe you won't believ me the colonel I held , that baby 'nd rocked it like it had been his own child. And the baby j seemed ' to, know that it lay, ag'in a lovin' heart, for, when It heerd the j old man's kind .voice 'rd saw his smil-in' smil-in' face 'nd felt the so jthin' rockin' of hi arms, the baby stopped its grlevin' 'nd cryin' 'nd begun to coo 'nd laff. ' The colonel called the nigger. ."Jim," sez he, "you go ahead 'nd tell the conductor con-ductor to stop the train at the first farm house. We've got to have some milk for this child some warm milk with sugar in it; I hain't raised a family fam-ily uv 'leven children for nothin'." The baby didn't cry no more that! night, leastwise we didn't hear it if it did cry. And what if we had heerd it? I Blessed if I don't think every last one i of us would ihave got up to help tend that1 lonesome little thing That wuz more'n twenty years ago, but I kin remember the last words I heerd the colonel say: "No matter if it does cry," sez he. "It don't make no more noise than a cricket, nohow; 'nd I recken being a director uv. the read ; I kin stop the train 'nd let off anybody that don't like the way the Han'bul 'nd St. Jo does business." Twenty years ago! Colonel Elijah Gates is sleepin' in the Palmyry buryin' grounds; likely as not the baby has growed up leastwise the Han'bul 'nd St. Jo has; everythink is different now everythink has changed everythink except humin natur', 'nd that is the same, it alius has been, and It alius will be, I reckon. EUGENE FIELD. |