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: The Children’s Hour. :
♦ ♦
♦ All letters and stories from children, and those who are interested in making ♦
♦ this ‘‘Hour” one of pleasure and profit to them, should be addressed: ♦
Mrs. L. W. Sickler, Paia, Cal.
s♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦
For Woman’s Work.
Nuts for Boys and Girls.
This nut Is round,
Has coverings two,
The inner very stout,
’Twas used in ancient China once
To keep their foemen out—
WALL-nut.
This tiny nut, so hard and round,
In baby’s way must not be found.
To keep it from hi« mouth we try.
And yet ’tis always in his eye—
HsZLE-nut.
For Woman’s Work.
Harold’s New Year.
EW YEAR’S morning dawns cold
. and clear. A few male guests of
N
Houd Norman are lounging arou id the of
fice stove, smoking arid telling stories;
one well dressed, m«ddle aged gentleman
sits apart from tho rest deeply absorbed in
thought; he wears a haggard, care-worn
look, as if he had seen much trouble, and
takes no notice of the merry group around
the stove. Suddenly the door opens and
a merry-faced, shabbily clad lad of ten
rushes in, calling cheerily:
“Happy New Year! Any job for me
this mornins, Mr. Palmer?”
“Happy New Year, Harold!’ replies
the kind faced clerk; “I’m sorry, but I
believe there’s nothing you can do this
morning.”
The thoughtful man looks up quickly
from his reverie and stares at the boy;
their eyes meet; r that voice, that smile—
where had the man seen them before!
“What is your name, my boy?” asked
he.
The boy answered; “I do not know, sir.
My Mamma died when I was a little fel
low, and 1 live with Mrs. Miller. They
call me Harold Miller, but 1 have no right
to the name. I think my father’s name
was Harold, but I don't know what his
other name was. I don’t believe Aunt
Emma does either; that is Mrs. Miller—l
always call her Aunt Emma, because she
is so good to me.’’
“I shou'd like to see Mrs. Miller,” said
the man; “could you direct me there?”
“I can go with you,” the boy replied.
“You see I’m out of a job to-day and have
plenty of time,” and he smiled again, that
bright, cheerful smile which had first at
tracted Mr. Norfleet’s attention. Ah yes,
he remembered it now—just where he had
seen a similar smile—and he said;
“Well, come, let us go. I believe I
know your father.”
“Oh, do you sir,” the boy asked eagerly,
“Oh, tell me about him, please!”
“Wait u itil I see your Aunt; what do
you call her, Aunt Emma? Yes, let me
gee her first.”
As they walked along, Harold told the
gentleman all he knew of his own lite,
ending with:
“And now we are very poor, for Aunt
Emma isn’t able to wash any more, and it
took nearly all the money the railroad
man paid her to buy the home. You see
Mr. Miller was killed in an accident, and
they gave Aunt Emma a lot of money
when he died. Wait a minute, please,”
and he darted into a store they were pass
ing, returning with a bit of candy.
“It’s tor Lola, the baby,” he said, “she
loves me so, and I thought I could spare a
pe ny fur her New Year’s treat.”
They walked on until they came to the
very end of the street when Harold said,
pointing to a low, weather beaten cottage,
“That is Au it Emma s.”
When Harold opened the door, be was
greeted with: “Hello, Harold,” from a
little lad of five or six, while the baby
asked: “Did *oo bing me som’fin?” but at
sight of the stranger they bf ca ne shy and
shrank ba< kward toward their m tne r , a
carew rn coking w. man >n laded blue
calico dr ss who ar »se as H »rold said;
“Aunt Emma, this ge .tieman said he
thought he knew my father, and wished to
see you; so I have brought him home
with me.” Then he ietired, to give the
chubby, three year <ld Lola her New
Year’s treat, which sne received with de
i gh‘—g vi g “bit- s” ’ lh‘- < the children,
and cram >h g over II .roll to her heart’s
bull ten L.
‘•My m»me is Harold Ndrflffjd/* said thd
E. D. Paige.
This nut is very hard to crack,
Os coverings it has two.
And yet it is so very soft
The sun will melt it through—
BUTTER-nut.
And then another one we have
The children always find,
Though high it grows, it i.ow is felt
When parents have the mind—
Hickory nut.
gentleman, “and being struck by the re
semblance of that boy to one whom I
loved dearly and lost years ago, I ques
tioned him about his parents and he seem
ed to be utterly ignorant of them, and
even of his name So I have come to you
and hope you will pardon me for seeming
inquisitive, but I wish very much to
learn more of the boy’s history,’’
“I know very little myself, sir,” said
the woman; “but what I know, I’ll tell
you. Nearly ten years ago, his mother
came to me, one stormy evening, with
him in her arms, requesting food and shel
ter for the night; I willingly gave both,
and when morning came she was too ill to
rise. She grew rapidly worse, the expo
sure had brought on pneumonia, and I
begged her to let me know the address of
her triends that I might write to them. But
she refused, saying she had no friends
and none to care for her but baby Harold.
Her husband was rich but cruel; so she
had run away from him, and refused to
tell his name. When she knew she must
die she begged me to keep Harold; I did
so, for I couldn’t send the child away to
the orphan’s home, though we were poor.”
“Can you give me a description of his
mother? Is he like her?” he asked husk
i’y-
“Hervery image,” she answered, “here
is her picture,” and she took from a box
on th' mantel shelf a photograph in a
faded frame. T“e tears rolled down the
man’s face as he took it saying:
‘ That is my wife’s picture, and Harold
is my son. Oh, Lena, Lena, if you only
knew how I've searched the country over
for you and the boy, only to fail and give
up broken-hearted. I’ll never find you
now in this world, but I’ve found our pre
cious boy.”
“And now you’ll take him away from
me,” said the woman, bursting into tears.
“Oh, you don’t know what a comfort he’s
been to me; but I’m glad he has found his
father. I often laughingly called him a
prince in disguise, because he had such a
noble, kind heart and gentlemanly man
ner.”
“Yes, I must take him if he will go, but
I must first thank you earnestly for your
kind, motherly care, given him when he
most needed it, and you will accept a
trifling sum for your trouble, wont you?”
“No, indeed, I don’t want pay for keep
ing Harold. Why, sir, he’s just like one
of my own. Harold, dear, this is your
father, and you must get ready to go home
with him.”
Harold was rejoiced to find his father,
but deeply grieved at leaving kind Mrs.
Miller and her little ones, until his father
said:
“Mrs. Mil'er, if you wouldn’t think it
an offense—you see the boy needs a moth
er’s car yet, a d if you would come up to
the city and act as my housekeeper, you
could rent your little home out, you know.
I’d be very glad to give you a iome and
pay you.liberally, and you needn’t be sep
arated from Harold.”
“Three cheers for you, Father!” cried
I “of c rnrse you will, wont you,
Auntie: for if you don’t go, 1 wont either,”
he added mischievously.
And so it was settled Harold went
with his father, and as Mrs. Miller watch
ed them go down the street she sail: “A
millionaire’s son, our Harold; I always
said he was a prince in disguise, and he
must bi a fairy prince, as he has brought
irood luck to ii.e and mine this New Year. ’
8 • she sn ; her family followed them to
toe city in a short time.
WOMAN’S WORK
For Woman’s Work
DOGS THAT WE KNOW SOME
THING ABOUT.
Each one feels
assured that a more beautiful dccilq,
affectionate, intelligent and faithful
creature cannot be found than his
own. Perhaps your pet, little read
er, is rather spirited, too spirited tor
he safety of a stranger’s pants; or, may
be, he is quid enough in disposition, nev
er pushing himself into notice, until, with
one eye always open to surroundings, the
time arrives when he deems it necessary
to let an advancing object learn that, in
his estimation, bis room is preferab e to
his company. But, then, you always re
gard these canine qualities as s< mething
unique and tip top, acd with strong ex
pletives. dare some dog braggadocio to
produce his— y< u’ dog's—equal.
It is rather gallii gto the feeli gs of an
owner of anima s, that he considers almost
human in point of sense and reason, to
hear men say, “Oh, get out! A dog is a
dog, and nothing more; they do not dif
fer except in spot and color.” He grins
with impatience and he feels the muscles
in his fist draw up when some one teds
him that his dog is just like other dogs,
and they are only guards, which is all
they are good for. He feels a disgust,
and distrusts a man who declares he has
no use for dogs, out of place; and he con
siders a dog’s place in a kennel, or out of
sight. Many a noble animal has had his
good traits kicked out of him; or has been
driven out of that society which would
have made him less stupid and useless
than he has actually become.
Dogs are as different in appearance, and
have as various characteristics, as man
kind. And just let me tell you some
thing: I have often seen dogs act with
more sense, a'id—yes, more reason, too,
than many of their denouncers. Tee idea
of dogs having no reasoning power; they
daily prove to the contrary.
A party of our gentlemen once went
out on an expedition of frolic and inves
tigation. Mr. Slade—one of the party—
allowed his favorite dog to follow them.
While walking on the bank of a rather
deep brook, and hilariously laughing and
joking, Mr. Slade’s foot slipped, and the
bank being wet and slippery, he fell head
long into a deep stream. His friends, of
course, were very much excited; shouted
lustily for help; made many demonstra
tions of anxiety and distress; but could
not make up their minds to run any risk
to themselvjss. The dog seemed to take in
his master’s danger; flew frantically to
first one then the other of the gentlemen;
pulled them by their coat tails; barked,
jumped upon them, and showed them by
numberless signs that he wanted them to
go to his master’s help. Seeing no dispo
sition on their part to gratify his wish, he
rushed fiercely upon them, threw some of
them down, jumped into the water him
self, swam to his master, seized him by
his clothes, and with difficulty dragged
him to the bank just in time to save him
from drowning.
Some people are pleased to declare that
“Dogs possess no reasoning power, and
everything they do is through natural in
stinct.”
What is “instinct?” Lexicons define
the word as “a power which influences one
to act in sudden aflairs without reaso i.”
In the above case it seems as though the
men acted under the power of instinct,
and the dog from reason.
The men, had they reasoned would
have known that they, with care, could
have entered the stream, a id both togeth
er have saved the man, who in an untow
ard moment fell without warning, and be
fore he could collect his se ses became
helpless. The dog reasoned thus: I have
done all I could to persuade those fellows
to save my master; I see, although I have
seen them swim, they have no idea of
helping him; so I am vexed with them
and will give them a strike, and do what
the cowardly fellows will not do.
Tnen, rushing into the water, he 'saved
his master. I assure you, little folks, that
dogs possess tempers, capacities, gifts,
propensities and graces that vary through
the scale of intellect, de ermined wil ', a id
kindly feeling., as do their -nasterq and
you will A id it j ir, as difficult to flnd tw >
dogs alike, as to discover tWu human ba
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GUESS
tome of my
little readers
I
have pet dogs;
and I’ll war
rant they see
traits in them
that they con
sider far supe
rior to those of
any known an
imal of its kind.
JANUARY, 1899.