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6 (702) THE
:Our Boys
BURYING
THE HATCHET.
Bob, with a box in his arms and a spade over his
shoulder, had slipped quietly around the house into
the garden. He hoped Dot yould not discover him
until her unfortunate chicken, which lay in the box
covered with roses and clover blossoms, was safely
buried.
The chicken, during its brief life, had not been a
source of unmixed joy to anyone but Dot; for it
was a motherless chick that she had found and
brought into the house, and, as soon as it was
strong enough to run about, it followed her everywhere
with a ceaseless "Chirp, chirp!" in a way
4hat was very inconvenient. Tt was constantly
under foot, endangering its own nock and making
people uncomfortable: but as Dot's pet, it was tolerated
bv everybody but the cat. Tabby failed to
see any reason for treating it with respect, and so
one day she pounced upon it and choked it out of
existence.
Dot had covered her favorite with tears and
flowers, and "Rob, at his mother's suggestion, had
tried to spare the small maiden the grief of witnessing
the burial. But the attempt was vain.
"I'm glad you're making it in such a pretty
place. "Robbv" she said. "I s'nose ohiokv wn?s n
pood deal in the way. Mother savs so. And. anyway.
phe'd have been a big hen pretty soon, and
that wouldn't have been so nice. But T'll never
like Tabby again, not one hit!"
"Oh, Pee here now. Sis, Tahhv didn't know any
better!" said "Rob, in good-natured expostulation.
"She's only a eat. and she didn't understand that
vou'd made a pet of this particular hunch of feathers.
Being crops at her won't bring chick hack
again. So you'd better hurv the hatchet and he
friends."
"What would T bury the hatchet for?" asked
Dot, more impressed hv that strange advice than
hv her brother's reasoning.
"Rob laughed. "That means to stop quarreling?
not to he angry anv more. When Indians am of
war with each other and are ready to he friends,
they bury a hatchet. That's a sign that they're
willing to stop fighting."
"Do folks alwavs stop fussing after the hatchetis
huried ?" asked Dot.
"Of course. That's what it means."
Dot watched the smoothing of the ground with
thoughtful face, and walked hack to the house by
Hob's side in unusual silence.
The family had finished dinner when Fred, "Rob's
senior hv two years. ramo to the door with a sharp
rail.
"Rob, where have von pnt the ax?"
"Nowhere. T haven't had it," answered "Rob,
promptly. But the replv did not satisfy Fred.
"Yon mnst, have had it. if von'd take the trouble
to think. Yon're always earrvinsr off things and
forsrettinpr where von pnt them. Pome ont and
hunt it np!"
Fred was in a hnrrv, and deeidedlv impatient:
and Boh's face flushed at the order.
"Hunt it up yourself, if vou want it. T tell you
T haven't had it, and T don't know anything about
it."
"Bovs!" interposed the mother's grieved, reproving
voire. But anvthing more that she might have
said was drowned in a wail from Dot.
"T didn't do it! I tried, and it isn't true! Boh
said, if vou huricd a hatchet, folks wouldn't quarrel
anv more. I couldn't find anv hatchet, so T
dragged the ax down and huried it 'side of chickv.
And vou hoys fuss worse'n ever!"
The hoys laughed at each other with a shame
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE SOD
and Girls |\
f
0
faced smile gradually displacing the flush of anger.
"Where did she put it?'' asked Fred, in a tone F
I
that had lost its sharpness.
"I'll show you," Rob answered.
There was very little trouble in Tmding the miss- ^
ing implement, for Dot was not a success at digging.
Then Fred met his brother's eyes and s
laughed. p
"I'm afraid she didn't get it deep enough for a v
lasting peace. But I say, Rob, we might he a little
better tempered without hurting ourselves. I'll try 11
it it you will."
"Agreed," said Rob. *
And to this day, when elouds arise in the Lincoln
household, some one is sure to ask, "Tsn't it about T
lime to dratr the a\ into the garden?"?Kate IP.
Hamilton. in Christian (Tploole. v
v
HER BROTHER'S KEEPER. a
TTolen Egerton was going out home on the fi :30 v
train. .Tust as the train was about to start, a o
flashily-dressed girl of about Helen's age came n
hustling in, laughing and talking loudly to some
one outside. 1'
"That girl works in your store, doesn't she. Burnham?"
said a gentleman in the seat in front of J
Helen to the one beside him. s
"Vr>o " ?-oo
?w~j I'.V IC|II,'. " II,' i C
"Oh, T would watch her a little, if T were you. a
T see a <rood deal of her, and T do not like the com- H
panv she keep?. Besides, she dresses more than T f
should think she could afford to, for she has noth- 1
inpr hnt what she earns." I
"T have thought of that mvself," said the mer- ^
chant, "but T supposed she had help at home. T
will have my eye on her hereafter. T do not like
her manner."
CI 1 TT -1 " i*?* i ^ '
cwmenow neien Tounn lr narn to n\* her atten- -J
tion on the notes of her afternoon's work after d
this. She knew the girl in question?Hester Morgan
hv name. She had heen in the same class in ji
Sahbath school with her. Whv Hester had dropped i
out some little time before was more than Helen .1
knew?or cared, if the truth were told. v
"But you ought to have cared, and to haye found ''
out and brought her hack," whispered her newlyaroused
conscience. "Won have had everything to t
help you and make you happy. Aren't you t
ashamed to he so selfish ?" n
fm..i -l- _ ? 9A _ m i ' ?
nut fine lsnmiro. rsne nresses too snowilv, and v
talks so loud, and sroes with a fast set. T do not
wart to have anything to do with her," pleaded li
Helen, impntientlv, to herself. * "
"How rrreh bettor world vor do if you had never t
had arv more eharoo than she has, and if 'nice*
girls let you severe!v alone?" said the relentless c
little monitor, shamlv. "Have vou lifted your
finger to help her? Sinee she has bepn put in your v
_ 'i i - * - * <
v?nr, men i. y?u in ft iiieitHure reforms! Die IT sne J
sroes wronsr? Will vmir Father in heaven hold you h
pruiltlesR ?" '
Tt was verv vexatious, to sav the least. "T wish," f
thou eh t Helen, as she strapped her hooks up, "that t
Hester hadn't come home on this car, or those men i
hadn't sat where T could hear what they said."
"But you see she did, and you heard every word F
of their conversation. Don't yon think perhaps t
Ood meant you to? If even not a tiny sparrow I
falls to the ground without His notice, do you sup- 1
pose He is unmindful of the danger of one of His ?
children ?" n
These questions followed Helen all the next day,
and when it happened that she was detained again, t.'
she felt no surprise to find Hester on the same f?
train. "I must help her if T can," she thought, t
TH [July 30, 1913
Hod has surely put her in my way." It was hard
o go to her?Helen was ashamed to find how
inrd : hut she did. "Good evening," she said, plcasutlv.
"Mav I sit with VOIl ? T linvon'f conn WA11
- ^
or a long time. I hope you have not dropped out
f our class entirely?have you?"
Hester looked thoroughly surprised for an intant;
then she smiled brightly. Unknown to
Telen, she had always cherished a great admiration
or her, though she had no thought or hope of ever
eing in the least intimate with Judge Egerton's
laughter. "Well," she answered, really trying to
peak lower than usual, though Helen winced in
pitc of herself. "Well, I'll tell you just how it
ras. I didn't care so great about going, and T
lidn't see as any one cared any more about having
yy
I1U.
"Didn't I tell you so?" whispered conscience,
riumphantly.
%
"But I care?for one. Won't you come back to
(lease me?"
"Sure," was the unhesitating response. That
cas the beginning, and Helen, once enlisted in the
cork, would not give up. Often she was discourged;
many and many a time it seemed to her
itterly hopeless, but still she prayed and struggled
III flAolriTirr in linliff nrwl cfrnnfrflinn ltnf Ttrnnlro?
r.ore unfortunate friend.
One night TTester came to her, her eyes shining
rightly through tears.
"I want to tell you what you have heen to me.
lr. Burnham has just given me a much better poition
than I have had. Tie told me that I had
hanged very much for the better the last year,
nd that if I kept on he would do better vet for me.
liss Helen, I owe it all to you. You have made a
riend of me; you have reached down and tried to
i;t me up, and I can never tell you how much I
hank vou and bless VOU for vour hrln."'?Z inn's
. - j / r*
lerald.
WHY DOLLIKINS IS HAPPY.
My name is Dollikins. Don't you like it? I
b. When I was very small and lived
[own in Maine on a farm, they called me
'Wuzzv," but when I came here to live with
nv dear mistress. Dorothea, she named me
jollikin.-. for .Vi?t said Wuzxy was no name at
11. I am free to own that I am much pleased
rith the change, lor neither my mother nor I
ver liked the old name.
Ok r v. r??n:i_:? e
vii, x am a vcij i/uiwi\iiis, lui" IIIV JI11Sress
and I have the best of times together. Only
he other day she made a daisy wreath for my
leek when we went to take a little girl out to ride
rho had been sick a long, loDg time.
When we started off the mother came out to
lelp the little sick girl into the cart, saying,
You must drive slowly and carefully, Dorohea."
Then when she said good-bye she added,
, T)-J *? it t 1 t i
r?ring sunn- roses in mose paie eneeKS vvnen yon
(imp back."
Did Dorothea drive carefully? Why, there
;as no need of her trying for I was just as careul
as 1 could be myself, for I did so want to
elp that little girl get well. Not even when
hat barking dog came out at me (and I am awully
afraid of barking dogsi did I allow myself
o scamper and run as T most always have d??ne
Tiat was when Dorothea stopped at a daisy field
little farther on, where two little friends were
n.'king daisies, and made ihe wreath. She paled
my neek when she put it on, saying, "'Nice
)oliikin8!" 1 can tell you I liked that wreath.
am going to try and be careful always after
his. for I have found out that I don't really
eed to run from dogs when they bark.
My mother used to tell me always to be kind to
he children, and T mean to. It is rather hard
ometimes, thotigh, for they forget to be kind
oo. T find, however, it is always best to min.l