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fi (988) * HE-J
Our Boys
FATE.
There was a little well-bred man?
(Of gingerbread was he)
Who had two bright; black currant eyes,
Expressive as could be.
He fell in love with the sugar cat
Beside him on the shelf,
But he had no mouth and could not speak.
He was quite beside himself!
She was a pretty, gentle puss,
Who cocked her sugar ear,
And longed and waited patiently
Some tender word to hear.
His currant orbs were full of love,
One saw with half an eye.
But alas! the sugar cat was blind.
Nor guessed that he was nigh.
And so he never told his love.
And so she never knew.
But as he leaned against the wall
Bowed down with grief he grew;
Until he fell into a heap
And crumbled qu.te away.
But the sugar cat's sweet, longing heart
Grows harder every day.
?Abbie Farwell Brown, in The Churchman.
MADGE'S RED CHEEKS.
All the mothers in Madge's town were very
much alarmed, for Dicky Trotter had broken
out, right in school, with measles.
Madge was the only little girl Mrs. Piatt owned,
and in all Madge's nine years she had never
had anything worse than a burnt finger, and a
few mosquito hites, so Mr. Piatt was quite sure
that her little daughter would he one of the very
first to cat eh Dicky's measles.
Dickey was not at all ill, so Madge was rather
glad than otherwise about his measles, hecause
the health officer had closed the schools.
That would give her a whole delight ful week of
unexpected holidays. She meant to spend every
minute of those five days out of doors, building
a snow-house in the front yard. But something
happened the very first day that kept her
in the house for three of those precious holidays,
and made her feel very sorry for Dicky, besides.
She was playing with Edna Blair out in
the yard by the gate when it. happened.
"Tf you rub your cheeks with snowballs,"
said Edna, polishing her own with a round cold
ball, "it. makes them just as red as anything."*
"Does it?" asked Mndee whnsp mom
already like Baldwin apples. "Guess I'll try
it."
And she did. She rubbed them and rubbed
them, until they were certainly several shades
redder than they had ever been before.
"Ugh!" said Madge, throwing away the icy
snow-ball. "My face is all wet."
"Wipe it with your handkerchief," said
Edna.
"Guess I've lost it." said Madge, fumbling
hurriedly in all her pockets. "Ow! There's
cold water running down my neck."
"Use your petticoat," suggested Edna.
Now it happened that Madge was wearing a
new bright red flannel petticoat, and when she
rubbed her wet cheeks with it, some of the
color came off of Ihe flannel and added itself to
the blazing scarlet in her cheeks. The very
next minute Madge's mniimv noiin^
n-. .. ...WVI,?.I IflllVll ||l"I III Hillner,
and the little girl, saving- good-bye to
Edna, ran into the house.
As soon as Mrs. Piatt saw Madge's scarlet
fKliUHYl'liKlAM O t 1 11 ? Sc
and Girls
cheeks, she was almost sure that she knew
what had happened. Madge had broken out
with measles, she thought; but, to make certain,
she called Aunt Mary in from the next room to
look at the child's blazing cheeks.
"Yes," said Aunt Mary, who was visiting the
l'latts, "that is certainly measles. See how
mottled her face is. Now T think of it. slm
was cross yesterday?that is always one of the
symptoms."
Sure enough, Mhdge had been cross, but only
because she had stayed up beyond her bedtime
the night before. In the excitement, however,
nobody remembered that. And. of course,
if Aunt Mary said that it was measles, that
settled it. Mrs. Flatt had never forgotten how,
when Madge was a baby, Aunt Mary had said
that there was a tooth coming in the little pink
mouth. "Well, in less than a week there was
the tooth for every one to see. Tf Aunt Mary
said it was measles, then it must be measles.
Madge knew, however, that it was nothing
in the world but snowball and red pettieoat. Tt
seemed so very funny that both her mother and
Aunt Mary should be so mistaken, that the redeheelced
little girl began to laugh. She laughed
and laughed so hard, that she couldn't say a
word. Never had she known such a very funny
-1_ -
.loice.
Still giggling and gurgling with laughter
healthy little Madge was stripped of her clothing,
rolled in a hot blanket, and popped into
bed, right in the middle of the sunshiny day;
and Aunt Mary was imploring her to stop
laughing long enough to swallow a cupful of
hot soup.
''Drink it, dear." said Aunt Mary. "Tt will
bring out more spots."
At that, of course, Madge thought of the
cold snowball and her red petticoat, and giggled
harder than ever.
"She's delirious," said Aunt Mary, who
didn't know what a little giggler Madge was.
"You'd better telephone for the doctor at
once."
So the doctor was called, and before very
long, the doctor came.
"She doesn't appear to have any fever," said
he when he had felt Madge's pulse, "and there
are no spots on her body; hut keep her in bed
for three days, and give her hot things to
drink. Tf she has measles, that'll bring 'em
out."
Of course, after the doctor had said that,
there was nothing for Madge to do hut stay in
bed. even though she finally stopped giggling
long enough to explain how she came by her
crimson cheeks.
The hot drinks failed to bring out any
measles; but, before the three days were over,
Madge concluded that the biggest part of the
joke was really on her own small self rather
than on her mother and Aunt Mary.?Carroll
"Watson Rankin, in TAttle Folks.
SQUIRREL AND MISSING NUTS.
"Grandpa! grandpa!" railed Donald, running
into the house one morning last, fall,
"what do you think? All those walnuts T gathered
yesterday and put. in the woodshed in a
basket are gone. Did you put them anywhere
else?"
"No. T did not." answered grandfather, putting
on his overcoat to go down town. "T saw
the basketful last night. Look around and perhaps
you'll find them."
> U T B [ August 28, 1912
Donald hunted and hunted for those lost
nuts, but not a single one did he find.
Monday morning, before the washwoman
came, mother went into the woodshed to gt.?t
down the washboiler, which was hanging on a
high nail. A moment later Donald heard his
mother call him, and came running. He climbed
up and looked where she pointed. There in
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of a bushel.
Mother pointed to tlie rafters at the other end
of the shed. There sat a little red squirrel, his
tail erect, his little feet spread wide, holding
tight, and his head cocked first on one side and
then on another, while he chattered and scolded
at the giants who had found his winter supplies.
"I)o you suppose he did it?" asked Donald.
" I don't douht it," laughed mother, as she carefully
lifted the boiler down and emptied the
nuts into the basket. "It. was too good a chance
for him to lose."
"He must have worked pretty hard," said
Donald, "to carry such a load of nuts so quickly.
Did he put them all in his cheeks?"
"They are the only pockets squirrels have,"
answered mother.
When grandpa came home that evening he
was told all about it.
"Well, well," he laughed, "1 think I'll have
to see if 1 can make that squirrel a house, and
then perhaps he will live here in the woodshed."
Next day grandpa took a wooden box and
put a layer of sawdust on the bottom. Then he
laid some hoards over that, making a little
floor.
Next he nailed a partition in the box, and
half filled the smaller part with fallen leaves.
" Nutsy's bedroom," exclaimed grandpa. In
the other section he scattered a handful of
dried pumpkin seeds.
"The dining-room, I know!" exclaimed the
delighted Donald.
"Yes," said grandpa. "Now I'm going to
make him a front door." And he cut a hole in
one end just about big enough for a fat little
squirrel to squeeze through.
"Now for the roof," said he, nailing on the
lid of the box.
But would you believe it? Although dainties
were scattered along the high pathway that
led to the "Furnished Rooms." Nutsy would
not live there. ITe liked his own eosy, hidden
nook better.
flrandpa hung ears of corn on the now leafless
walnut-tree, and now and then a can filled
with pumpkin seeds. Nutsy would come and,
with a whisk of his bushy tail and a cock of his
bright little head, settle himself to the cniov
merit of the feast.
One day in the late spring, when the woodpile
in the shed was almost gone, grandpa found
behind some old hoards in a well-sheltered corner
the cosiest of little nests, well-lined and padded
with dry grass and leaves, where Nutsy had
spent the long winter nights.?Lillian Kennedy
Wyman. in The Child's Hour.
"They that wait on the Lord shall renew their
strength." Life is a continual drain upon resources.
Strength is being constantly sapped.
ir mis is so, moans must be found to fill up the
reorvoir; for intake must coompensate for outgo
There is no other way to renew one's strength
spiritually than by keeping in the attitude of
expectancy before God. It takes time to restock,
after the wearying runs and turns and perhaps
overturns of life, thte storage battery of the
soul. Therefore wait upon the Lord, and he
shall make a now man of you.?Z'ion's Tlerald.