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Our Boys
TO MY FEATHERED FRIEND.
By (leorge Cnrrington Moseley.
Through the long day, thou lonely bird,
Thy sweet and plaintive little note is heard;
Thy tiny throat is trembling with glee,
Twitting in the top of the old oak tree.
At the first faint streaks of waking day,
Thou dost start thy simple roundelay;
Whistling to the other birds to rise,
And enjoy the beauties of the skies.
And at the noon-hour of the day.
When none but the bee makes melody;
Ever and anon I hear thy oall,
Out of the silence enveloping all.
At the close of the day, when in the west,
The soft shades of evening settle to rest;
Thou dost wing to thy nest in the bough on high,
Singing thy song to the open sky.
Dear little friend, like thee, may we,
From morning to evening as cheerful be;
And may our hearts continuous praise,
To the Father of Mercies daily raise.
THE RECLAMATION OF BONNIE.
(A True Story.)
BY MABEL ALLEN.
Just before the Doctor, who rooms at my
bouse, left for his regular week-end at his
beach home, he rapped on my door and said:
"Miss Allen, you are not afraid of horses,
are you?"
"Indeed not." 1 asserted, indignant at the
suggestion. "Why?"
"I've decided to sell Bonnie," he stated
firmly. "I've been feeding her for the last
five years and we don't use her onee a month.
You know my folks are afraid of her."
"Afraid of her?" I echoed. "I thought she
was such a pet."
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out" it ii l i i yuu put iiiu satiuitr uii ncr
or hitch her to the buggy."
"What happens then?"
"Oh, the mare is all right," he went on
hurriedly, ignoring my question. "They're
not used to horses, that's all."
Flashes of past conversations regarding
Bonnie's behavior seeped into my brain. The
desire to hear what he had to say kept me
silent, however.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," he continued.
"I'll bring her up from the beach Monday
morning and I'll advertise her for sale. You
can show her to people. I'll give you ten
per cent, if you sell her. The entire outfit,
buggy, harness and saddle, will bring two
hundred dollars.
That seems fair. I decided to risk it, and
before he left it was all arranged. I found a
pmce m tne diock wnere 1 could rent a stable
for a dollar a week.
Some time Sunday the telephone hell rang
furiously. When I answered it, I found it was
the doctor's sister-in-law.
"Oh, Miss Allen," she began excitedly.
"The Doctor says he is going to drive Bonnie
to the city tomorrow and you are going to
sell her. For goodness' sakes let me warn
you not to try to drive that animal. Several
years ago, Doctor's wife turned her directly
into an automobile. The buggy was smashed,
but somehow in the mix-up the horse escaped
unhurt/ but since then she is deathly afraid
of J,ht*m. She will run in an instant. She
shies and hacks and turns around short. In
fact, my dear girl, you'll sign your own death
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE S<
and Girls
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warrant if ydu attempt to drive her in the
city. We never try to use her out here, sev*
eral miles in the country, even."
She talked steadily for fifteen minutes about
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central cut us off. I was glad. Still I wanted
to earn that twenty dollars. Then I wondered
if I could not sell her by riding her. The Doctor
had a fine cross saddle. 1 borrowed a divided
skirt from a member of the Out West
Riding Club.
Early Monday morning the door bell rang.
The Doctor stood on the step. Bonnie was tied
to a telegraph, pole in front of the house. I
got in the buggy and we drove to where I had
engaged a place for her. I didn't try to take
her out the next day, knowing that she would
be stiff and sore from her long twenty mile
drive. The next day I rode her several miles
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terrible happened. Next day I grew bolder
and we went down town. My reputation was
made for a real wild west rider before we came
back. As we turned into our own block a
small yellow ear came snorting and puffing
around the corner. We went home the rest
of the way on two legs. Not mine, but Bonnie's
hind ones. Ever since then people speak
to me and men raise their hats who never
before knew I existed. So much docs the
world admire fearless horsemanship. That
night the Doctor inquired if I had driven her
yet.
1 evaded his question and said that I*wa>
waiting for him to drive her first. We hitched
up the next night and drove down town. We
had a dreadful time. I saw what was the
trouble about the time we went up on the
third sidewalk. He was afraid of her.
It was necessary that she should be newly
shod if she were to be offered for sale. It fell
upon me to drive her several miles that day.
xavery minute my eyes and hands were alert
for rome sudden lurch or plunge. 1 got home
finally. I wasn't so much afraid the next
day.
Yh. Doctor had especially forbidden me to
tale any children driving, but the rig was
so pretty and the children so coaxing, well,
every child in the neighborhood was surfeited
with buggy rides during Bonnie's stay. Then
1 tried to show her to possible purchasers. But
Bonnie didn't want to be .sold. Her actions
were terrifying. All the neighbors held their
breath and looked sad farewells when we
whizzed past the corners. But we always got
home safety. Then I began to see light.
Bonnie was very sweet and gentle, and 1
decided to sec what 1 could do with her. The
very first thing 1 did was to take off the
checkrein. She held her head very high naturally,
so it did not seem that it was a cruelty.
But the first hill we climbed, down went her
h<?ad and Bonnie pulled. On level road up
went her head. We went out into the country
for long drives. Whenever I saw a specially
tempting wisp of grass along the roadside I
guided her toward it. Before long she was
nibbling here and there. She was such a confirmed
runaway, the Doctor always tied her
with double straps. When taking her around
the neighborhood, I used to stake her out on
vacant lots where the owners didn't object. I
occasionally slipped the halter off. Bonnie
followed -me like a dog. Several times she
)UTH [May 22, 1912
broke the chain she was staked out with, but
except for going over to get a drink where I
generally watered her, she never strayed away.
I inet an old lady one day, possibly four
weeks after Bonnie's arrival.
"Did you get another horse?" she asked
politely. "This one looks so gentle."
"It is the same horse," 1 laughed.
Doubt and incredulity covered her face like
a mantle.
"Then you must certainly be a witch," she
proclaimed.
"No," I hastened to tell her. "I just tried
to look at things from her viewpoint. I let
her do the things 1 would want to do if I were
the horse and she were my driver. And she
appreciates it."
"She certainly does," the old lady approved.
There isn't much more to say about Bonnie.
The Doctor's family came to the house. I
took them behind her. They were delighted.
Today Bonnie is back in her luxurious home,
the pet and pride of the family. A year has
passed and her reform seems to be permanent.
So it pays to be kind. I will always feel happy
because I saved a really fine animal from
becoming a city hack.?Dumb Animals.
ONE WE ALL LIKE TO MEET.
"If ever there was a person good to meet it is
Jane Gray," said Mrs. Ellis, as she put down
her sleeves and washed her hands at the sink.
"It is better than seeing the doctor any time,
if the soul needs medicine. Here I was yesterday
so down-hearted that I scarcely knew how
to brace up; everything I did was a task, and
my spirits were all out of sorts.
Then Jane came in like a bit of sunshine and
saved me from myself.
"She didn't go about it by giving me advice,
or anything of that sort. She saved me by kind
words and friendly interest.
"I guess she saw by my eyes that I had been
crying, but she took no more notice of it than
if my face had been wreathed in smiles.
" 'Oh, Mollie,' she said, 'I'm glad to see you.
You will know how glad when I tell you I
walked all the way over from Gray's Ferry for
that very purpose.'
"Gray's Ferry is seven miles away, and a
rough, hilly road at that.
" 'You dear little woman,' I cried, smiling in
spite of myself.
" 'All I need is plenty to do, and I'm happy,'
she continued. 'I had just about run out of
work at home, when something seemed to tell
me I would find some here.'
" 'That's right,' I sighed. 'The work fairly
piles up in this house.'
" 'And thank the Lord, you have the strength
to do it. You are one of the richest women I
know, Mrs. Ellis. With Tom for a husband and
three bright, healthy, growing boys, you are
really to be envied, dear.'
"I had not looked at it. in h<vfV?rp
although I knew Tom was the best husband living,
and that our boys were beyond compare.
" 'Sit down and count your blessings, Mrs.
Ellis, and you will find you would not exchange
lots with any one.'
"I am sure of that,' I cried, 'and you must
not think me ungrateful, but sometimes the sun
hides itself a bit behind the clouds.'
" 'Then looh for the silver lining; it is sure
to be there. There was no cloud ever so dense
that it did not eventually yield to the sun's rays
It is never wise to give up to discouragement,
for it is always better farther on.'
"Well, those kind words saved me, and made
me see things as they really were."?Philadelphia
Ledger.
.