Newspaper Page Text
6 (582) THE :
Our Boys
TWENTY TIMES A DAY.
Twenty times a day, dear,
Twenty times a day,
Your mother thinks about you,
At school, or else at play.
She's busy in the kitchen,
Or she's busy up the stair;
But like a song her heart withiu,
H P r 1 nvo for von \c fhnro
There's just a little thing, dear,
She wishes you would do,
I'll whisper, 'tis a secret;
Now, mind you, I'll tell it you:
Twenty times a day, dear,
And more, I've heard you say,
"I'm coming in a minute,"
When you should at once obey.
At once, as soldiers instant
At the motion of command;
At once as sailors seeing
The captain's warning hand.
You could make the mother happy
By minding in that way,
Twenty times a day, dear,
Twenty times a day.
?Margaret E- Sangster.
THE BIRD'S SOCIETY LIFE
When newspapers tell about the dinners, teas
and other entertainments that people give each
other, they call it society life, or something of
that kind, and it seems to be very interesting,
not only to the society people, but to many
newspaper readers who are not invited to these
gatherings. Now, the people who love the free
birds know that the birds have a short period
of society life, and although these friends are
not invited to the birds' socials, they can look
on, if they are polite and do not stare too much
or make noises.
Most people only think of birds during the
spring, when they are singing and bringing up
their birdlings, and during this latter time they
make more alarms and shrieks than songs, for
cats, hawks, and boys are daily and hourly
threatening or killing their dear bahies. Then,
toward the end of July and the first of August
the singing stops, and then the shrieking stops,
for what young birds are left alive have learned
to know danger and can fly from it, and the
bird families keep out of sight among the trees,
or go to the nearest woods or woody thickets
of shrubs, and stay for three weeks.
Changing feathers is a serious business: one
cannot take them all off like a coat and pull
on new ones. They fall out and new ones grow
in very quickly, hut the birds feel rather helpless
when the large wing and tail feathers are
out and the new ones are not large, so they find
quiet places for those weeks. And this is the
bird's social season. If you go to a woods or
park early on an August morning, you will find
robins and other birds in flocks, not in pairs
and families. The young birds are introduced
to their many cousins, and are told all that is
necessary to enable them to keep up with their
elders when all take the long journey South
to spend the winter.
There is much talk but no singing at these
meetings, and if even a very good friend comes
to look on every bird disappears. This is a polite
rebuke to the uninvited, yet if I whistle
the one call T always use when filling the waterpan
in my garden, any of my birds who are at
all sociable give an answering chirp, and do
not immediately fly to hiding. Still, they show
me very plainly that, we are not such chums
as in April, May, June and July, when T chase
away cats and. fill bath-pans.
All about, under the thick foliage, are bird
sociables, robins on the grass, finches and their
kind high on the branches, little warblers and
fly-catchers on the topmost twigs. One can
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SO
and Girls
hpllPVP flip nrmid innfhara ar*o onvinor- "Allow
me to introduce my daughters, Tweedle-dum
and Tweedle-dee, and my sons, Cheeip and
Crup;" or, "So pleased to make your acquaintance,
Mrs. Oaktree; I've been so busy with
housekeeping and my children, that I've had
no time to make calls." And I am quite sure
that, when a mother bird sits on the edge of her
nest and sings to her little ones, she is teaching
them all manners, and customs of the very
highest bird society, which are, as among people,
to be as kind and pleasant as you wish
others to be to you.?E. M., in Young Christian
Soldier.
CONTENTMENT AND WISDOM.
King Frederick, of Prussia, riding out one
day, saw by the wayside an old farmer plowing
in the field and singing to himself as he
went on with his work.
"You must be well off, my good man," said
the king. "Does this land on which you are
so industriously workiner beloner to von?"
"No!" replied the farmer, who did not know
the king: "I am not so rich. a-? that. 1 plow
for the owner who pays me wages."
"How much a day does he pay you?" asked
the king.
"Eight groscken," was the reply.
"That is not much," said the king. "How
can you get along with so little?"
"I get along very well, and have something
left over beside."
"How is that? Pray tell me.
The farmer smiled and said, "Well, if you
would know, it is this: two groschen I take for
myself and wife; with two I pay my old debts;
two I lend, to be repaid in the future, and two
I give away for the Lord's sake."
"I don't understand what you can mean.
Will you explain to me?'
"Well," said the farmer, "1 have two old
parents at home, who cared for me when I was
young and needed help, and now that they are
weak and themselves need help, I provide for
them, and this is my debt that I am trying to
pay v th two groschen a day. The next two,
which I lend to be re-paid in the future, I spend
for my children, that they may be well in
a--J J A.. "
six uuieu ana iramea ior service; and they will
take care of us when we get to be old. With
the last two I help support my two sisters who
are feeble and whom I might not be obliged to
care for, and this I give for the Lord's sake,
as I think He would have me do."
The king was greatly pleased with the old
man's answer, and said, "That is all right and
well done, my good man, and I now will give
you something to guess. Have you ever seen
me before?"
"Never," said the farmer, looking carefully
at him.
"Well," said the king, "now you shall see
me fifty times, and shall carry in your pocket
fifty likenesses of me, for yourself and your
family."
"I don't. linHprstflnd who* *?? " ? ""
..uai, jrwu Ilirrtll, SHia
the farmer.
"Then I will make it plain," said the king,
and taking from his pocket he counted out fifty
gold pieces, each stamped with his likeness,
saying to the astonished farmer, "this coin is
good, and it comes from the Lord our God.
I ain His paymaster and by me He sends it to
you." And bidding the old man good-bye he
went on his way.?Forward.
U T H [ June 21, 1911
THE TRUSTFUL DOG AND THE GRATEFUL
CRANE.
Once a poor crane was caught in a net, and
could not get out. She fluttered and flapped
her wings, but if was of no use, she was held
fast.
"Oh," she cried, "what will become of me
if I cannot break this net? The hunter will
come and kill me, or else I shall die of hun
i :x? t j* ...i ?:n n
gur, auu, ji x uic, who win care iur my poor
little ones in the nest? They must perish
also, if I do not come back and feed them."
Now, Trusty was in the next field, and heard
the poor crane's cries. lie jumped over the
fence, and, seizing the net in his teeth, quickly
tore it to pieces. "There!" he said. "Now fly
back to your young ones, ma'am, and good
luck to you all."
The crane thanked him a thousand times.
"I wish all dogs were like you!" she said.
"And I wish I could do something to help
you, as you have helped me."
""Who knows?" said Trusty. "Some day I
may need help in my turn, and then you may
remember me. My old mother used to say to
me:
" 'To do a kind deed wherever we can
Is good for bird and beast and man.' "
Then Trusty went hack to his master's sheep,
and Mrs. Crane flew to her nest and fed and
tended her crane babies.
Some time after this she was flying homeward,
and stopped at a clear pool to drink. As
she did so, she heard a sad, moaning sound,
and, looking about, whom should she see but
good Trusty, lying on the ground, almost at
the point of death. She flew to him. "Oh, my
good, kind friend," she cried, "what has hap-,
pened to you?"
"A bone has stuck in my throat," said the
dog, "and I am choking to death."
"Now, how thankful I am for my long bill!"
said Mrs. Crane. "Open your mouth, good
friend, and let me see what I can do."
Trusty opened his mouth wide; the crane
darted in her long, slender bill, and with a few
good tugs loosened the bone and finally got it
cut.
"Oh! you kind, friendly bird!" cried the
dog, as he sprang to his feet and capered about.
"How shall I ever reward you for saving ihy
ife*"
"Did you not save mine first?" said Mrs.
Crane. "Shake paws and claws, Friend
Trusty! I have only learned your mother's lesson,
which you taught me, that?
" 'To do a kind deed wherever we can,
Is good for bird and beast and mar?.' "
?Exchange.
LAUNCH OUT.
"Launch out into the deep" was the Lord's
command to the disciples when they had been
fruitlessly fishing in-shore. Obeying they gathered
in a multitude of fishes.
In the world "launching out into the deep"
savors much of speculation. It implies an effort
in waters which have not been explored,
the letting of ones lines down to depths which
have not been measured. It means there not
merely seeking larger things, but the uncertainty
that attends the outcome.
In the spiritual life there is no such uncertainty
or element of speculation. The command
of Christ removes all question. The word of
God removes all doubt. The experience of the
saints remove all fear. The undertaking of
large and liberal things for our Lord and his
Kingdom has always been attended with success.
And the trembling souls who have feared
to go off-shore have always had empty nets.