Newspaper Page Text
November 24, 1909. THE PRESBYTERI
out climbers to go farther up The Kitten Tree than
any baby cat had ever dared to go.
All summer the little cats grew. Fluff and Duff
were white with grey spots; Rough was yellow with
white spots; Stuff was almost white, round as a barrel
and always crying for something to eat; 'Nough
AL!- 1 t_ 1 1 -i ?
was nun ana DiacK ana very aainty about wnat he
ate; Huff was the quarrelsome kitty, and was always
"spitting" at imagined enemies.
All summer long the morning glories grew. Mother
Delightful made them a part of her large family, and
fed them delicious sudsy dishwater and once a week
wash-water from the big laundry tubs. Sweetheart
wondered if the blue-water would make the glories
bluer. Sometimes Mandy came from the kitchen with a
pan of ashes, which she used about the little garden
carefully as mother directed her. That was the way
the garden was fed.
Sweetheart and the kittens were fed upon cream and
milk and corn bread and biscuits and fried chicken.
Sometimes a very selfish kitty would carry a small
chicken bone into The Kitten Tree, and then there was
fun. Sweetheart wanted to climb the tree with her
playmates, but the morning glories had quite a notion
to climb themselves, and there was not room for them
all.
After a while the leaves began to fall. The morning
glories gloried out among the branches as long as
they dared. Just about the time Jack Frost began to
think things about that garden, the little round, brown,
shiny seed baskets that the glories left behind them
popped open and sprinkled the seeds down at the foot
of the tree, and Jack Frost never got so much as a
nibble at them. Grandmother gathered the parsley
and dried it for winter. Mother brought a cunning little
bag and dropped into it the nasturtium seed for
another year's planting. Abe cleared away the now
useless vines. The kittens had begun to go to the big
barn to hunt for mice, so once more The Kitten Tree
was left to dream of the days when it had had flowers
of its own.
A few months of dear winter and then beautiful
spring. The old quince?Sweetheart, I beg your pardon?The
Kitten Tree woke up from her dreams and
shook herself. Was it true? She had a secret. All
through the lovely days she whispered it to her friends
the birds, and they sang it aloud to all the world, but
no one noticed until one morning when Grandmother
Dearest came peering about through her bright
glasses.
"I declare for it!" she exciaimed, taking them off
and giving them a long rub on her clean white apron
to make sure. "If this old tree?hasn't?gone?and?
got?buds on it!"
"Buds of what?" asked Sweetheart, who was always
somewhere near Grandmother Dearest. "It's my Kitten
Tree. I don't want anything on it but kitties and
leaves for them to play with, 'cause this year I'm going
to climb it myself. There's only three cat babies
in the basket and T don't know what t^? tv.*.*. ??
? T> ?*MV fcV tlUlUV LI1VI1I.
Mother Delightful came out to feed the chickens and
clapped her hands at sight of the clusters of buds. "If
it does bear quinces,.mother, and the sweet apples
% W
4
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AN OF THE SOUTH. 11
down in the orchard does well, you and I will have the
nicest time this fall!"
"And isn't it my Kitten Tree any more?" mourned
Sweetheart.
"Surely it is, darling, for it was your Kitten Tree
garden that waked the old tree up. The sun and the
air and the dishwater and the ashes and all the other
things trees love to eat got to its poor hungry roots
and gave it an idea that it was good for something
iL i a p. ^
in uie wona, alter ail. Kun now and tell Abe to come
and bring his spade and dig about it again. We must
not let the glories there this year. We will feed
it the best kind of growing-food all summer, wash its
dear old trunk and make it right proud of itself and its
flower babies. See, Sweetheart! The old cat is bringing
her babies out into the sunshine. She is telling
them how they will climb The Kitten Tree this summer.
Shall mother name them?"
One by one she took the wee cats into her lap.
"Quince, you are the biggest, so Quince is your name
in honor of the new buds. Sweet Apple, your breath ?
is as sweet as blossoms, so Sweet Apple is your name.
Jell, you fat little fellow, you shake all over like grandmother's
best wild crab apple jelly, so Jell is your
name! There you go! Cat-mother, teach those soft
little paws how to climb The Kitten Tree!"
All summer long Quince and Sweet Apple and Jell
romped up- and down the S-shaped trunk of the old
friend of kitten babies. Autumn came again and there
were fat quinces in the boughs of the tree. Grandmother
and mother put the big preserving kettles over *
tne hre built out-of-doors, and by and by quarts of
quince and sweet apple jelly were put down cellar for
days to come. The four-legged namesakes, Quince and
Sweet Apple and Jell wandered away into the big
world after mice and other things cats like to get. But *
Grandmother Dearest and Grandfather Beloved and
Mother Delightful and Sweetheart stayed right on at
the farm and loved and cared for everything that
grew.?The Interior.
PETER.
Peter lived on the pfairie. When he was three
years old, the first railway train came through. Uncle
Peter carried the small boy to see it.
A 1 * ?- - ? -?
*-?. uuy on me train tnrew a peach tu Pe*er. He ate
it, and laughed with delight.
"Don't throw away the stone," said Uncle Peter;
"we'll plant it."
Peter's chubby, brown little hand patted the soft
earth over it. That first season he watcned the green
shoot break through and send out a few leaves. The
next season it was tall enough for Peter to jump over
it. The next season it was so tall he couldn't.
"When Peter was eight years old there were seven
peaches on his tree, one for each member of the family,
and not one of them had ever tasted anything so good
i f ** ' " ""
Deiore. tie planted all the stones.
Today Peter is a big boy. He has eight well-grown
peach trees, which carry health and delight to all the
neighborhood. And he has a young orchard coming
on, which will some day bring more moiey than all
his father's crop.?The Youth's Companion.