Newspaper Page Text
Written for Burke’s Weokly.
Baby Ruth.
HE was a fair and gentle child,
Whose sunny heart had known
(jpk>W Nothing of sorrow nor of pain,
But happiness alone.
We loved her for her pretty ways,
Her earnestness and truth —
So strangely thoughtful for her
years
• Was little Baby Ruth!
Amid the softly floating curls
Tho summer breezes played—
Soft, sunny curls, that round her face
A golden framework made.
Her eyes of deepest, darkest blue.
Were often raised above,
And baby lips would sweetly say,
“ I know that God is love ! ”
A happy child was Baby Iluth,
When sunlight filled the sky;
But with the rain her laugh was still’d,
And tear-drops filled her eye.
“ Have I been naughty?” asked the child,
“That God should weep above ?
I wish the sun would smile again,
And tell me God is love! ”
And when again the sunlight smiled,
But brighter from the rain,
It filled the heart of Baby Ruth
With happiness again.
And clasping both her tiny hands,
And raising them above,
She’d cry aloud exultingly,
“I know that God is love ! ”
She loved to hear the little birds,
And sang with them for hours;
She loved the birds, but dearer still
To her, earth’s fragrant flowers.
Swoetly she’d tend the drooping ones,
And bid them look above ;
so,” the won’ 1 -
* me God is love! ”
In earth’s bright garden many a flower
Blooms only for a day—
So “ Death the Reaper” came and took
Our only flower away.
God took our little Baby Ruth,
To live with Him above;
And there we know our angel child
Sings ever “ God is love! ”
Carrie.
Little Children Praying.
boy in Jamaica
ca Hed on the missionary, and
state( j he had lately been
very ill, and often wished his minister
had been present to pray with him.
“But, Thomas,” said the missionary,
“I hope you prayed yourself.” “0!
yes, sir.” “Well, but how did you
pray ? ” “ Why, sir, I begged. ’ ’
A child of six years old, in a Sunday
school, said: “When we kneel down
in the school-room to pray, it seems as
if my heart talked to God.”
A little girl, about four years of age,
being asked, “Why do you pray to
God?” replied, “Because I know He
hears me, and I love to pray to Him.’
“But how do you know He her i
you?” Putting her little hand to er
heart, she said, “I know He doe'’, De
cause there is something here th" tells
me so.” Child's World.
■ •
Be sure you are right, then go a-head
BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
EVENINGS AT GLENWOOD.
If 0 many of the principles already
considered in our conversations
r about concave mirrors enter in
to the subject of convex mirrors, that
we are likely to have a short lesson
to-night,” said Mr. Cranford.
“Can you tell me, Ellen, the differ
ence between a concave and a convex
mirror? ”
“ Yes, sir. In the former, the re
flection takes place from the hollow or
concave side ; in the latter it takes place
from the outer or convex side.”
“Right. Now, Ellen, take this con
vex mirror, and hold it before your
face. What do you see?”
“ My face, sir.”
“ Yes, the image of your face ; but is
it real or imaginary? ”
“Imaginary, I suppose, sir, because
it is much smaller than a real image
would be.”
“Yes; and we may learn from this
that the images formed by a convex
mirror are always virtual, always erect,
and always smaller than the object.
This figure will show the course of the
rays in the formation of an image by
means of a convex mirror. Now, if
you will recollect that, while the ten
dency of the concave mirror is to make
the rays converge , or come to a point,
the tendency of the convex mirror is to
make them diverge , and will bear in
mind the explanation given two meet
ings ago, you will have no difficulty in
understanding why the image is a dim
inished instead of a magnified one.
“ This closes the subject of reflection
of light. At our next we will take up
that of refraction of light—one full of
interest, which will occupy us for seve
ral weeks. I must now say good night.”
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
THE RUBY RING.
CHAPTER 11.
_
N the last chapter we left Rose
about to knock at the door of
U the little hut in the woods.
When she knocked at the door, it was
opened, and she saw what do you
think she saw? Why, an old monkey,
dressed up in an old woman’s clothes 1
“What do you want, my child?”
said the monkey.
“Why, can you talk?” said Rose.
“I had a monkey once, but he never
talked to me.”
“I am a good fairy, my dear,” said
the monkey. “Sometimes I change
myself into a monkey; and as I knew
that you would come here to-day, I
came here so as to be company for
you, and to get you everything that is
good for you.”
“Will you take me back to the
Queen, my mother?” said Rose.
“I cannot now, my child,” said the
monkey; “ but I will as soon as I
can.”
“What is your name, good fairy?”
said Rose, “and why can’t you take
me back to the Queen, my mother,
now ? ”
“My name is Kindness, my child,”
said the fairy ; “and I cannot take you
back to your mother now, because my
sister, the fairy Ilatefvl , sent the gipsy
to get you away from the Queen, your
mother; and you could not have stayed
at home if all the King’s army had
come after you. My sister, Hateful,
has a ring, which makes her more
powerful than other fairies. Now, if
we can get this ring, I can take you
home; and if we can get it, I will
give it to you, and while you have
it, whatever you wish for you will
get.”
“Oh! thank you; how am I to get
it?” asked Rose.
“My child,” said the fairy, “it is
very hard to get it; but I will help
you. I will give you a bottle of some
thing, which, if you can get near enough
to put some on her, it will make her
go to sleep, and then you can take the
ring off her finger, and come out of her
palace. I will be ready for you outside. ’ ’
“Which way am I to go, good
fairy?” said Rose.
“You must go right straight along,”
said the fairy.
So Rose said “good-bye” to the
fairy, and set out. At last she came
to a large palace. She knocked at the
gate, and a lovely young fairy opened
it, and asked her what she wanted.
Rose asked her if Fairy Hateful lived
there.
The fairy said “ yes ;” and asked her
if she wanted to see her.
“Yes,” said Rose; “can I see her?”
“ I will ask her,” said the fairy.
When she had gone,, Rose heard some
one calling her. She looked around, and
at last she saw a sweet little fairy in a
rose tree. This fairy said to her :
“I am Fairy Kindness. You must
only make the Fairy Hateful go to sleep
to-night, and we will have time to get
away before she wakes up.”
When she had said this, she disap
peared all of a sudden.
Now, when the young fairy came
back, she told Rose that Fairy Hateful
could not see her before uight. This
was just what Rose wanted. She said
she would wait; and at six o’clock that
night the fairy told her that Hateful
was ready to see her. So Rose fol
lowed on until they came to a room,
where the fairy said Hateful was.
When the door opened, Rose saw a
very ugly old woman seated in a beau
tiful chair, and this was Hateful.
“Well,” said Fairy Hateful, “what
do you want, child? ”
“I come to see you, your majesty,”
said Rose; “your sister, Kindness,
sent me.”
“Well,” said the fairy, “how long
are you going to stay?”
“I do not know, your majesty,” said
Rose; “if you will allow me to sleep
here, you can decide to-morrow.”
So Rose’s room was shown to her,
and she was left alone.
After Rose was left alone, she began
to look around, and at last she saw a
little door in the wall. After a good
deal of trouble, she got it open, when
she saw a pair of stairs. She went
down, and found herself in Fairy Hate
ful’s room.
“Oh! ” said Rose to herself, “now
I can go down and get the ring.”
As soon as Rose heard the Fairy
Hateful get into bed, she took up the
bottle the Fairy Kindness had given
her, and went down the stairs. When
she got to the fairy’s room, she waited
a little while, and then went in. The
fairy was in bed. Before she could say
anything, Rose flung the bottle at her,
and the fairy went right to sleep.
Rose then took the ring from her
finger, and ran out of the palace. The
Fairy Kindness was waiting for her,
and took Rose at once to the Queen,
her mother.
Her mother was very glad to see her;
and they all lived happy, and for a long
time.
Yes and no, for good or evil, are the
giants of life.
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