Newspaper Page Text
February 12, 1913] T H E P
Harriet, as, after placing Bobby in a safe seat,
she sat down again, somewhat pale, but quite
composed.
''The minute I saw him fall," she said, gently,
"I asked our Father to help me save him.
And you know," she looked up, smiling, "it
doosil't. tllkfi ? RPonnd tr? think n nrnvor wtinn
you're in a real hurry, and it doesn't take a
second for our Father to do it, because ho can
hear our thoughts."
"No," in reply to another question, "I wasn't
a bit afraid?there wasn't time. Now it's over,
I'm just a little afraid?not much, though. Yes,
I knew our Father'd help. My mother says
that's what fathers are for, and, of course,
our Father can do more than any other man.
"This is our crossing." Harriet grasped
Bobby's hand; the boy was subdued and sub
missive enough now. Several sprang to help
them off safely, and more than one stalwart
man wiped his eyes and went on his way, feeling
that he should never forget the little girl's
confident assertion, "lie can hear our
thoughts"; and more than one questioned if he
could say it as gladly as did the small heroine
of the trolley: because, to be glad our Heavenly
Father hears our thoughts depends on what kind
of thoughts they arc.?Young Christian Soldier.
A LESSON WELL LEARNED.
"I don't want to go to school this fall," said
Lawrence, as he came into the house one day
in early September.
"Why nott" asked his mother.
"Well, I've had such a good time all summer
that I don't want to go back to the old books
and maps and things," answered Lawrence.
"I see," said his mother, as she came to the
doorway of the pantry, and met his serious gaze
with one of equal seriousness. Then she smiled
as she turned to her work, and added: "We
I
will talk it over when father comes home tori
"
Lawrence went back again into the yard,
where he was making a wagon out of an old
box, and there his mother found him, busily
hammering and sawing, when she went to the
Letters
Dear Presbyterian*. I am a little boy eight
years old. I go to school and am in the 5th
grade. I go to Sunday school at the Presbyterian
church; Bliss Dakin is my teacher. Rev.
O. H. Taul is our pastor * we love him so much.
My mother takes your good paper and I like to
read the lettcre from the children. I am studying
the Catechism. X have one brother, Harry,
thirteen years old and a little sister, Louisa, two
years old and a pet collie dog named "Ben."
Will close. You little friend,
Clifton Forge, Va. Johnny Hoffman, Jr.
Dear Presbyterian : We are all sisters, and as
none of us have ever written to your paper before,
we decided to white our letters all in one,
and please publish our letter as we want to surprise
our parents and brothers and sisters. We
had a very pleasant Xmas. Santa Claus visited
us and left us a lot of presents. We had a Christmas
tree and he left the presents on the tree for
us. We haven't been living here very long. Our
father moved from Florida to North Carolina in
February. We like Florida .best for we have so
many playmates there. We have Sunday
" sohool every Sunday and we go to the Presbyterian
church at PenRalem. Rev. Mr. R. S. Arrowood
is our pastor. Now we will tell you how
old wo are T am ten years old,,,T-rfma is eight
..*** f." IV * - ? *? 1
\
I
RE8BYTERIAN OF THE SO
back porch a little later.
"Lawrence," she called, "I must have some
more sugar for my preserves! Will you please
run down to the store, and get half a dozen
pounds ? And get a yeast cake, too, and a half
a dozen oranges, and a Dotind of raisins. Can
you remember all that!"
Lawrence carefully repeated the list of
things wanted, took the dollar bill which his
mother gave him, and went off down the shady
village street to the grocery store. He kept saying
over the list to himself, and so he made
no mistake when the grocer came forward to
greet him.
*' .?11 4~ 1 -11 *1 ?>
a uu uiu ncii iu icmcuiucr an ui mem,
said the grocer, who was fat and jolly. Then,
when everything was ready for Lawrence to
take, the grocer said: "Now let us see how
you are on figures. The sugar is six cents a
pound, the yeast cake is one cent, the oranges
are forty cents a dozen, and the raisins are
twenty-five cents a pound. Now what does it
all amount tot"
"This was so unexpected that Lawrence did
not catch what was said. He looked up with
wide-open eyes. The grocer laughed, and then
slowly repeated all that he had said. Looking
steadily at Lawrence, he asked again: "Now,
just how much does that all amount tot"
Lawrence said it over slowly after him, and
then stared hard at the floor. "I am afraid I
can not do it in my head," he said, at last.
The grocer laughed. Business was dull in
the store just then, and so he came round the
counter to where Lawrence was standing.
"We'll try it on paper, then," he said, giving
Lawrence a pencil and piece of wrapping paper.
So Lawrence wrote down the items as the
grocer called them off, but he was in trouble
f ll H a. A_1 - #1- v * -
i.rura me nrat. uniy auer ne careiuuy aaia tne
multiplication table of the sixes, assisted by
the grocer, did he master the problem of sugar
at six cents a pound. Then an example in short
division made it plain that half a dozen oranges
at forty cents a dozen would be twenty cents.
"Now add them," said the grocer, when thiri
From The CI
J T7I1 /? .1 J TIT *11 ?
mijli r ior? in jive yearn oiti. we win not write
any more for fear of a hungry waste-basketYour
little unknown friends,
Lillie, Lena and Flora Morrison.
Eagle Springs, N. C.
Dear Presbyterian: I am a little girl ten years
old. Papa takes your good paper, and I enjoy
reading the letters from the children. I go to
Sundav school everv Snndnv. Mv teacher is Mr
John Cole. Am going to school every day and
like to go. My teacher is Miss Arnold. Onr assistant
is Miss Brooks. We are proud of the
beautiful Bible and flag given our school by
the JunioTS. I have three brothers. All go to
school. I hope my letter will not reach the wastebasket.
Yorr little friend,
Cameron, N. C. Kathleen Harrington.
Dear Presbyterian: I am a little girl t*n
years old. I go to Sunday school every Sunday
T can. My teacher's name is Mrs. Anderson. I
hope all of the little writers are well and will
not stop writing. Please print my letter as T
want to surprise my papa. I will close by ashing
?a question: What is the last word in the New
Testament? From your unknown friend,
Franklin, W Va. "Eunice Boggs
D T H r ' (127) 7
ty-six and one and twenty and twenty-five were
placed in a column.
"It is seventy-two," announced Lawrence
when a considerable time had passed.
"Wrong!" said the grocer.
Lawrence studied the figures carefully.
"Oh," he exclaimed, "I did not carry the one
from the first column! It is eighty-two."
"That is better," said the grocer. Then he
looked at the paper upon which Lawrence had
been working, and continued, with a smile:
"You seem to find them rather hard words to
spell?sugar, yeast cake, oranges, and raisins.
They are pretty common words, too."
isy tliis time Lawrence was feeling very uncomfortable,
and his face was red through ita
coat of summer tan. But the grocer only patted
him on the shoulder, passed over the purchases,
and gave him the change due him to
the test of subtracting eighty-two cents from a
dollar.
"Come again!" called the grocer, as Lawrence
hurried out.
"Thank you," said Lawrence. "And next
time I will know how to spell all those words."
"All right," said the jolly grocer, laughing.
A little later, when Lawrence delivered the
packages to his mother, his face was very
serious. "I guo?s, after all, I will go to school
when it opens next week," he said.
"Very well," said his mother. "I don't believe
that you will ever be sorry for it."?
Youth's Companion.
There is a mighty power in silence sometimes,
and silence is frequently an evidence of
nnwpr TTe n?1m nan nnnfnnl l?to (nnmm
r - vuu V?vuv? V/I tlio IVUf^UU LOU
control his entire nature. lie who can control
his words knows how to speak, and often his
silence is more impressive than his speech.
"Brilliant flashes of silence" is by no means a
senseless expression. How often have we seen
the babble of the foolish hushed by the silent
glance of an earnest soul; how often the ribald
jest or scurrilous word has died upon the lips,
when an indignant silence was the only reply it
could evoke!
~ ,, =n
lildren
Dear Presbyterian; T am a little girl ten years
old. I go to school and to Sunday school, too.
My Sunday school teacher is Mrs. Lucy Anderson,
and my school teacher is Mr. Berlin Eye,
and my pastor's name is Rev. C. R. Lacv. I like
them all fine. I have only written you one letter
before this. I like to read the stories that are in
the paper and also the letters from the boys and
girls, and am also sorry when they are not any
in the papers. I hope all of the little boys and
girls are well and healthy. I hope you and all of
the litle writers had a Merry Christmas and a
Happy New Year. Please print this letter as I
wam 10 surprise mv momer. l win close by asking
a question: What is the last word in the
Bible? From your friend,
Franklin, W. Ya. Hazel Harrison.
Dear Presbyterian: This is my second letter
to yon. Papa takes your paper and I like to read
the children's letters. I am thirteen years old.
i go ro scnoci at i>it. fisgah. I love to go to
school. I am in the sixth grade. My teacher's
name is Miss Mary McLean and I like her fine. I
go to Sunday school every Sunday I can. I love
to go to Sunday school. My teacher's name is
Miss Lizzie Harrington. I do not want to make
my letter too long. I hope to see my letter in
print. Vonr little friend,
Broadway, N. C Margaret McNeil