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6 . (610) THE1
Our Boys
A NATURAL INFERENCE.
I'm sure mamma is growing deaf.
For when I went to bed
And asked to have my little gun
Pn aIaom Yif&d/ls* mir lion/I
1 Ul V.1VOC UVDiUC ill J ilCUU,
Because the bears had bothered me
Last night and the night before.
She only said to old nurse Jane,
Who stood beside the door:
"When Johnnie has his tea next time,"
(Her voice is soft as silk),
"Be sure you give him nothing else
But simple bread and milk.'
?Western. Advocate.
FUZZY.
BY B. F. KNAPP.
Fuzzy Jarvis was a "newsy" in one of our
large Southern cities. His short, curly hair had
earned for him the title "Fuzzy," and he had
been called by it so long now that nearly every
one had forgotten that he ever had any other
name.
One morning a man drove up in front of one
of the large business houses, and tossing the
reins to Fuzzy, who happened to be standing
nearby, he hurried inside. Pi'esently he reap
peared, and smiling at the faithful Fuzzy, said:
''Thank yen, my boy; I was in a big hurry and
your happening along just then helped me out,
for they don't stand very well," nodding at the
prancing horses. Dropping a quarter into the
boy's hand, he drove away. But all the rest of
the day that smile and those pleasant words
lingered in Fuzzy's mind and brought a smile
to his face. Far more did he think of the kind
words than of the quarter?for had he not earned
quarters before? But kindness was a rare
thing to Fuzzy.
The next morning he lingered near the same
corner, hoping that by chance he might see his
friend again. Just as he was leaving his post
the pretty team halted and the same gentleman
alighted, this time in less haste, but seeing Fuzzy
standing expectantly, he tossed him the reins,
saying as he did so, "Ah, you are here again,
mv frinnd Arr> vnn nlwnvs on this nnrnnr In
hold people's horses?"
"I'm generally 'round here in the morning,
sir," he answered.
"My friend!" Those words rang through Fuzzy's
mind, and over and over again he repeated
them. The gentleman had actually called him
his friend. Had you asked Fuzzy to define the
word love he scarcely could have done so. Deprived
of parents at an early age, and with no
near of kin, Fuzzy had little reason to know
what love was. But there certainly was a
strange feeling springing up in his heart whenever
he thought of the "gentleman." Fuzzy
didn't call it love, simply because he didn't call
it anything. He finally asked another "newsy"
who the gentleman was.
"Why, that's Judge Barone," was the reply.
"Lives in the big white house upon the corner
of B? Street." Fuzzy knew the house?a palace,
he called it.
One morning the judge drove up and stopped,
hut he was not alone. With him was a lad of
about Fuzzy's own age; his son, Fuzzy soon
discovered. His eyes were just as kind as those
of his father, and as they came out of the build
ing he took from his pocket a handful of peanuts
and held them out to Frizzy, who had been
carefully, guarding the team meanwhile.
Once after that Fuzzy saw the judge's son.
That time he did not go in with his father, but
# t
t
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SO
and Girls
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sat in the carriage and talked with Fuzzy. And
he tossed him a coin and asked him to get sflme
oranges from the fruit stand near by; and then,
...i m T J 1 i- - it t t t i
>wii*u r u iu.y intu uruugiu mem, me iaa neia
out one, saying, "Here you are, catch it." And
Fuzzy did catch it and it formed the principal
part of his dinner that day.
It was only a few days afterward that he
learned that the judge's sou was sick. Then
for several days he saw nothing of the judge,
and when he finally did come, he seemed in a
great hurry and there was a sad look on his face.
"IIow is your son, sir?" ventured Fuzzy, as
the judge came back to the carriage.
"Tie's no better today; in fact, I'm afraid
he is not so well." It was a sad smile, and one
that Fuzzy never forgot.
That afternoon the newsboy pulled the change
from his pocket and counted it. A dollar and
a half there was, and Fuzzy did some thinking.
Suddenly two tears splashed down among the
coins.
"lie's a nice man," Fuzzy said to himself,
between the catches in his breath, "an' the boy
g-give me 'a orange, an' I'm sorry he's sick."
He had wandered along till he stood in front of
a large window where were displayed many
kinds of beautiful plants and flowers. " 'N he
called me his friend," mused Fuzzy. " 'N he
always smiled at me?even when the boy was
sick?'n'?'n' I'm sorry?'n' I'd like him to
know it." Then he went inside and began to
inspect the flowers more closely.
"What do you want?" asked the clerk, not
very pleasantly, for Fuzzy did not look like a
probable customer.
< < T > J 1 :i- - Xt-! XX t* " ?
i. u ime sumeiuing pretry ior a SICK DOy,"
was the reply.
At the sight of the tears which were still in
Fuzzy's eyes, the clerk's tone grew less harsh,
and he replied, "This is a pretty one, here."
"IIow much are those white ones?" asked
Fuzzy.
"Two dollars."
Fuzzy's face fell and he passed on to another,
lie selected a white lily. "I guess I can afford
that."
A few minutes later he stood at the door of
the big white house. He asked to see the judge
for to no one else would he intrust his gift.
Having left it, with a few timid, faltering words
of sympathy, he departed, wondering if the judge
would understand how sorry he was.
A few days later when the judge stepped out
of his carriage, instead of entering the building,
as usual, he came directly up to Fuzzy.
".My son would like to see you, my friend.
ITe wanted me to bring you home with me. So
if you'll jump right in here, I'll take you up
to see him. Can you go now?"
"Sure, sir," said Fuzzy, and he followed the
judge into the carriage. As soon as he entered
the room the judge's son held out his hand,
saying, "Good morning; I wanted to thank you
for that flower you brought me, and then I want
to a-k another favor of you."
"Sure, I'll do anything I can for you," was
r? t 1 ?
r uzzy s repiy.
"Well, you see, I've taken a fancy to you.
T've likel you all along, but I've liked you more
ever since you brought that flower. And the
doctor says it will be a long time before I am
strong enough to be out, and it's dreadfully
loncome lying here all day. So I just asked
father if he supposed you'd come and stay here,
and?well, just pretend you're my brother, you
I U T H [June 5, 1912
know; I've always wished I had one?and you
could play games with me, and we could have
jolly times together, I know. You'll do it, won't
you?"
"Why?er?'twould be nice, but?are you
sure you want me ? I haven't even been to school
much, 'n I've no clothes fit to wear here, 'n?"
"Of course I'm sure I want you, and I'll help
you study from my books when I get a little
stronger, and so you'll stay with me, won't
Of course Fuzzy stayed, and the friendship
which began then lasted all through their lives,
and Fuzzy often says now that he would not be
the man that he is if it had not been for the
judge and his son, and their kindness to him.?
Baptist Boys and Oirls.
WANTED: A WORKER.
God never goes to the lazy or the idle when
He needs men for His service. When God
wants a worker, He calls a worker. When He
has work to be done, He goes to those who are
already at work. When God wants a great
servant He calls a busy man. Scripture and
history attest this truth:
Moses was busy with his Hocks at Horeb.
Gideon was busy threshing wheat by the
wine press.
Saul was busy searching for his father's lost
beasts.
Hovn,1 \ 17 Q o Imov nanintv 1'ai? l'n4 !?.?? 'a 1
jvi *? uo m uoj v.ui lUl Ilia I U! iiui a
sheep.
Elisha was busy plowing with twelve yoke
of oxen.
Nehemiah was busy bearing the king's wincup.
Amos was busy following the flock.
Peter and Andrew were busy casting a net
into the sea.
James and John were busy mending their
nets.
Matthew was busy collecting customs.
Saul was busy persecuting the friend of
J esus.
William Carey was busy mending and making
shoes.
"I'M PRETTY LITTLE, BUT I'LL TRY.
Here is a story which the press dispatches
carried last winter, and it is worth while for
every boy and girl to read it, and to apply the
remark of little Eileen Martin to the plain
work of a plain, every day life.
Eileen Martin is the daughter of section
foreman on a Great railroad line She lives in
Alta, California, and near her home the Overland
Limited flashes past on its journey between
the East and the West. Eileen is seven
years old, and, though she is a girl, she
loves to watch railroad trains go by, as well
as any boy does.
One day she had gone to the track to watch
the Overland Limited whirl past, and, while
waiting, her quick eye noted a broken rail.
She is only seven years old, but she knew
that when the swift-flying train struck that
rail, destruction and death would sweep down
upon it.
She ftlsn knew the eemnnlini-a tii<.nulo She
knew that when the long arm on the high pole
dropped, pointing downward, that a train had
entered a given space, called a block.
When Eileen saw the broken rail, she at once
ran to the telephone and called the station
agent nearest her, and told of the disaster
awaiting the train. In an instant's glance at
the clock he saw that he could not reach it in
time to save it.
"Can't-you flag it?" he shouted to the little
girl standing on a stool and listening at the
other end of his line.