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6 (774) THE
Our Boys
THE STORY OF A DANDELION.
By Eliot A. Turtls.
A dandelion grew in a garden plat
In the shade of an old stone wall;
Her slender leaves made an emerald mat,
"Where the stem grew straight and tall.
In the the cool spring days she had worn a hood
That was small and tight and green;
She wore it as long as she possibly could,
Till many a hole was seen.
Then she sent down word through her stem and mat
To the storehouse under her feet,
That she needed at once a bright new hat,
With trimmines and all complete.
It was fine as silk and yellow as gold,
Like a star that had fallen down;
With brightest trimmings, fold on fold,
The gayest hat In town.
And next she wanted a summer hat,
Adorned with small white plumes; ?
So they sent her one, in place of that
They had sent with yellow blooms.
For many a day she waved and danced
And bowed to the birds and bees;
For many a day the sunbeams glanced
Through leaves of the friendly trees.
But a brisk little wind swept by, one day,
"Please give me your hat," he cried;
He carried the little white plumes away,
And scattered them far and wide.
?Kindergarten Review.
A MOTHER'S PARTY.
BY "PATSY."
"Oh, Claire, I know the loveliest secret I ever
did know. You will never guess it." Blanche
threw her books down on the table and dropped,
flushed and breathless, into a chair by her sister's
desk.
"I think I could guess," said Claire, "without
much trouble, knowing, as I do, tbat the seventh
is drawing near. It's something that has
been promised you for your birthday, isn't it?"
"No, indeed, it's lots better than that. It's
about Mother's birthday, not mine. It is something
I am going to give, all myself."
"I hope it won't be made of teneriffe, this
time. That's too hard on the eyes, to say nothing
of the slight ruffling of temper it is guaranteed
to produce," said the older girl, smiling down
into the eager face at her side.
"No, it's to be made of roses and ice-cream.
It's a party, Mother's party, the very first one
she has ever had,?since I can remember, anyhow.
Won't she be surprised? I can hardly wait. I am
going to ask all the people Mother cares the most
for?Mrs. Blake, Mrs. Carson, Mrs. Oswall, and
oh, everybody. I'll tell you what put it into my
head. I went up to Miss Julia's yesterday evening
to return that book you had, and she met
me at the door and made me go in. She was
iust as swppf. anrl lnvplv nnrl +1ipv worn oil an
pood to me that I just kept on staying. I noticed
Miss Julia was all dressed up, and Miss Bertha
too, and then Mrs. Bennington came down stairs,
in her best black silk. I saw a lot of lovely carnations
standing around the room, and then some
one brought a basket to the door for Mrs. Ben
ningron ana 1 couia see tnat it was tuil or good
things to eat. But even then, I didn't think anything
till a carriage drove up and Mrs. Ellesley
rustled in. She came right up to me and shook
hands, smiling at me just as if I were grown-up
and said, "Why, I thought I would be the first
one here." Of course, then, I thought it was
some sort of society, and I was just leaving when
four or five others came in, and Miss Bertha
came over and sat down by me and explained to
me that it was her mother's eighty-first birthday
and they were having a few friends in, and she
\
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE 80
and Girls
wanted n*e to stay. She was just as sweet as
could be and you know I always thought she
didn't like me a bit. She made me stay and every
one was lovely to me. Of course, I planned then
and there to have a party for Mother, and oh,
Claire, I am going to earn every bit of the money
mvcoir ' ' 4. J e 1 -Li
u, uuu -uiducnc si,uppeu lur ureaiu.
"How can you, Pussy?" asked Claire, gathering
up the papers on her desk.
'' I don't know yet, but I mean to do it,'' said
Blanche emphatically. No, don't you say you are
going to help me," as Claire started to speak,
"for I want to do this all alone. You mustn't
even tell me how I can make the money."
"I am just to be a sympathetic on-looker, am
I?" laughed Claire.
"Yes," said Blanche, "but you musn't look
on until I tell you to. I will let you finish your
letter now, I am going up to the den to think of
ways and means," and gathering up her books.
she hurried from the room.
The eventful fifth was drawing near and not a
word could Claire get out of the little enthusiast
about the party. She had begun to think that
she had given it up, when Blanche rushed in one
day, with the brightest face she had worn for
weeks.
"Oh, Sister, I have every cent I need and more
too. What do you suppose I did?"
"Sold your red rooster or the pigeons, or"?
but the slow Claire was interrupted.
"You might as well let me tell you. I know it
will be hard for you to believe that I made all
this money" (spreading it out in view) "down
on my knees in the hillside meadow,?I, the laziest
of lazy people, but I did."
"But, Pussy," said Claire, "you are not making
yourself very clear. Do you want me to be
neve tnat you dug this up out of the earth, or
fished it from the brook, or just what impression
are you trying to convey? If all you had to do
was to kneel on the hillside, you might still be
lazy,"?
"Well," interrupted Blanche, "I will begin
at the beginning. First, I tried making candy
and dressing dolls for the children in the third
grade, but the candy wasn't good and the dolls
weren't pretty, and the girls stopped coming
for them. Then, one day, I had, or thought I
had, an inspiration."
'* I hope you were not inspired to sell some of
my shirt-waists, like you did once before," said
Claire, teasingly.
"Now, Sister, that isn't fair, because I was
little then, and hadn't learned to use my own
judgment, as Auntie says. Besides, I thought
you were through with them and I wanted to
surprise you with a new parasol."
"You surprised me all right," said Claire,
laughing at the thought. "You surprised me
twice, once with the parasol, and once again
when I looked for a waist to put on. You remember,
you mistook some of my new ones for my old
ones. But that's all right," she added kindly,
"tell me about this inspiration."
"Well," continued Blanche, "you know I always
did want, tn writa stnri^o on/l T
? ? MWV4VW, OX.V4 X WlUU^IIt
I would tell the whole truth, I mean, write about
a little girl who wanted to give her Mother a
party and needed some money. So I did, and got
Uncle Ned to copy it for me and send it on. Then
I studied hard and tried to forget about it, but
one day,?just two weeks ago, yesterday,?I got
a big fat letter and I knew they had sent it
back. I sat down on the floor ahd cried, I
couldnt help it.'
U IB [August 16, 1911
"Was that the evening you were trying on
your new shoes?" asked Claire.
"Yes," said Blanche, "and you thought I
was crying because my shoes weren't pretty, and
you sent them back to O'Massons before I had
a chance to tell you I had bigger troubles than
that, though the shoes were big enough, I admit.
You know, once before, I tried writing stories,
and failed. But this time I wasn't writing for fame
or glory, or anything like that, but just because
1 loved my Mother and needed the money. And
so I thought I would succeed. I never was so
disappointed in my life. I was about in despair
then. I thought Mother would have to postpone
her birthday; but one day I heard Amy wishing
for some dandelions to make wine. It came
to me like a flash that that was something I could
do and I didn't waste much time finding a
bucket and going up on the hill-side, where they
are thick as stars."
"Was that where you were hiding every afternoon
last week, when I searched the house for
you?" interrupted Claire.
Blanche nodded, and went on. "It wasn't quite
as easy work as I thought, because you had to be
particular not to get any stems in the bucket,
and I began to get tired and I just knew I was
gettintr sun-burned Do von know how T Vin+?? tr?
pet sun-burned? Blanche waited for a sympathetic
answer, then continued. "After a while
my head began to ache and I thought I couldn't
stay another minute. But when I thought of
Mother and of all the things she had done for me
all her life long, without a murmur, and how I
had never done anything to prove to her how I
loved her, I determined I would stick to it, if it
took me weeks to earn enough. And I did. Aunt
Bessie found out about it and she wanted some,
and then Amy told me about some other people
who did, too, and I picked gallons and gallons?
bushels, I should think. It was only two cents a
quart, but just look at this!" And once more
Blanche spread out the nickels and dimes before
her, stacked them in a little pack and gazed
upon it fondly.
"That's a veritable monument to industry,
isn't it, little sister?"
"I don't know what you mean. Maybe it is.
I am too excited to think," and Blanche ran off
to order the ices and flowers for the all-imporA.
X 3
iciii i aay.
When Saturday came, she persuaded her
mother to go out for a long drive with her Aunt
Bessie, who was in the plot, and with Claire's
help, the house soon looked like a cool, green
spot in the woods. And when her mother came
in bright and smiling, and saw the trailing vines
and her favorite flowers nestling in every corner,
and the dear faces of the friends who even then
were gathering, Blanche thought she could never
be any happier.
But lovelier still were her mother's appreciative
words when all the guests had gone and
they were having a happy twilight talk. Then it
was that Blanche determined that she would try
to bring some pleasure into her Mother's life,
each day, for that evening she had discovered
what many little girls have not yet found out?
that there is no other treasure so priceless as a
mother.
Harrisonburg, Va. m\
TWP. "DU A TTJT-C1 r. .
? * uAuvifi uiinuiSLION.
Some of the Indians tell to their boys and girls
this story about the Prairie Dandelion. In the
Southland, the lazy old South "Wind was resting
on the ground. One day, as he looked across the
prairie, he saw a beautiful girl with yellow hair.
For days he saw the maiden, and every day he
said, 'Tomorrow I will go and ask this beautiful
girl to come and live with me." But the South