Norwich Bulletin Newspaper, May 8, 1913, Page 9

Young Writers. 1 Write plainly on one side of the Rules for only and auwmber the pages. ™ Uke gen aad ink, not pencil. 3. Ehort and poiuted articles will be given preference. Do not use over ¢ words. 4. Origina! etorses or will be used. letters only 6. Write your name, uge and ad dress plamly at the bottom of the story. Address all communications to Un- cle Jed, Bulletin Office. “Whatever you are—Be that; Whatever you say—Be uue Straizhtforwardly act, Be honest—in Be nobody else but you.” POETRY. Trouble Ahead. sireet A meet ives across the to the Y. M. C. every week they e zvmnasium to play t will make their muscles now he's got some brand-new told me white rothe comin the man’s would have known it nobody holds strutty tellin’ me his shoulders as can be, mes he sticks out his when I'm goin’ by thinks he owns the paste him in the eve. to think of it 2 shame to hit him one! settle down a bit, his place till it is done its it to me and no more if ks me. he the girl next % ha with win wonder is ma will say k cheeked angel child- back across the way what an’ lookin' wild? ste him! Yes, 1 do. white hope on the blink m gigglin’, through an ick me, I don’t think! ~Anon. The Lady Bug's Party. ¥ ve a party grand affair cetle dandies nattiest Gnats were there. Glow Worm glowed his brightest Hornet played his horn; Butterfly brought butter And the Milier Moth brought corn, TH and purred, oped high. with their uncles me with pie. “aterpiilar The Horsefly The Ants came And the Spiders cz The June Bug in his buggy came, Dragzed by tne Dragon Fly The Centipede gave hie last cent To see the pair ge by. Tt was a splendld party Hut when the last was done, The Hop-toad sat outside the door Ana swallowed every one —The Entomological News, UNCLE JED'S TALK WITH WIDE.- AWAKES. Uncle Jed wants the Wide-Awakes <o get into fashion, not as a matter of dress, but as a matter of form. There i only one stvle in a printing ffice with reference to copy, and that to wirte on one side of the paper nlv, and some of the Wide-Awakes persist in writing in any old way. Of course, those nice little notes on perfumed paper which begin on the first page and then skip to the third and then come back where the second THE WIDE AWAKE CIRCLE Boys and Girls Department page ought to be, are nice for little girls and boys, but they are not appre- ciated by the printers, who are used to having things done according to rule, which means to help rather than to' hinder them. They like clear writing on one side of the paper, and that is what they | | | can good copy. | Now, Wide-Awakes, Uncle' Jed | wants you all to learn how to make | manuscript for the press right. It is help some some- an accomplishment and ma; boy or girl find employment time. Do not write your name and address at the top of the first page, but re- serve that for the bottom of the last and make it as near like the way it appears in print as you can. Read the rules, and comply witn them sheet, LETTERS OF ACKNOWLEDGMENT Winifred G. Briggs of Voluntown: 1 thank you for the pretty book you sent me. 1 like it very much. | Lillian Brehaut of East Norwich, N. Y.: 1 thank you very much for the nice book you sent me, A Little Puri- { tan Rebel. 1 have read it and found it very interesting. Hazel Gifford of Putnam: 1 re- ceived the prize book you sent me. I thank vou ever so much for it. I have vead it and think it is a very nice | book 3 PRIZE BOOK WINNERS. |—Frank Pardy of ortunes of the Fellow, Alien Dromgoole. 2—Edna Reibetang of Lebanon, Loy alty Island, by Marian W. Wildman. The Norwich, by Wi +—Mary Elizabsth O'Neil of Nor- | wich, Flowers of May. | | 4—_Agnes Bobsein of Norwich, A Lit- | tle Puritan’s First Christmas, by Edith Robinson | 5—Mildred Eiler Mildred's Inheritance, | lows Johnstone. of Norwich by Annie Town, Fel- “%—Frankiin D. Crosby of Danielson Aunt Martha's Corner Cupboard. 7—Catherine Desmond of Norwich Tom Swift and His Aerial Glide. | | i 8—Harriet Newbury of Norwich, The | Daisy Book. | Prize winners living in the city | may call for the books at The Bulletin | business office any hour after 10 a. m. Thursday STORIES WRITTEN AWAKES. in Canada. in the year 1794 English family went out to settie in anada. It must, hewever, be recoi- cted that to emigrate and settle in ‘anada was at that time a very dif- erent affair from what it is now. There were no steamboats at thai time. The Indians were still residing in upver and many portions of lower | Canada, and the country was full of | wild animals of every description. | The Europeans were fewer in num- | [ber and the major portion of them | were French, who were not pleased at | the country having beem conquered ¥ the English, A great many English settlers had aiready arrived and had settled upon different farms; ,but as | the French settlers had possession of | all the best land in lower Canada these | new settiers were obiiged to go into or | swards upper Canada,where, although the land was better, the distance from Quebee and Montreal and other popu- | lous parts was much greater, and they { were left largeiy to their own re- | sources, amd aimiost without protec- | | tion. { BY | 1 | | | WIDE- Settlers It wes that an h 1 | b | E | | i | | | | LILLIAN M, BREHAUT, Age 15. East Norwich, . My First Kitty. Ever since I was old enough to want anything I have wanted a kitty. A few weeks ago my Papa brought me ]home a black ‘kitty with a small white | necktie. I named him Tad Lincoln. He has & nice bed in the cellar where he SUNNY DAYS 1 lut to See the Shade-Lovers. (Copyr You know, Dorothy,” said Aunt Jule, “there are flowers of the eun- shin the shade and the night, and there are insects that are like them in th tastes and seek their honey The butterfiies have been called ‘the flowers of the air because of their graceful tight and delicate colors. “We will 20 to the edge of the woods = afternoon and see if we can see e of the shade-lovers.” That will be nice.” replied Dorothy “and there may be pretty flowers and ns there, too!™ And there\ may be brambles there to catch in our stockings and skirt Aunt Jule remarked make aware we are irespa Are they always Dorothy The ng. there inquired isually ther ‘because that is brambles pnswered Aunt Ju their place of greatest usefulne: What do they do?” asked Dorothy ‘The people think their only work 1= to make berries to eat” said Aunt Jule, but they make rns for de- fense, and a great naturalist once call- ed them ‘the advance guards of the forests,” for they form,a barrier against browsing animals and while protecting 1hemseives, keep the animals from nip- ping off the tender young shoots of the irees until they are too big and too tough for animals to eat. No horse or cow or sheep likes to have its face scratched, or tender nostrils pricked.” “T've called them nasty old bram- bles” said Dorothy, “when they have caught in my dress, thinking they were more bother than use.” Then vou may regard them differ- ently in the future” replied Aunt Jule, “for they do not run in vain, and they entertain their insect friends just s vou and I o our acquaintances, nd find enough in life to do.” It was mid-afternoon when fhey started out down the lane to the pas- ture and the woods, which were not far away. They saw the insects of the sun in thefr rapturous flight seek- ing their loves in the field of Hght, the lassy waters and mirrored reeds, the glm)mlng flowers and the wWlnd-borne eeds. This was all new to Dorothy, ut Aunt Jule knew where she was oing, and in a little while they were n a ravine one side of which ihe woods skirted, and were pleasantly geated where ihey could see the shad- ows growing longer and night gently approaching, for where they were it was geitine darker, although it weuld are ®e severa! nours before (he sunsei, ihe N INSECTVILLE ighted.) | afterglow and the gloaming which fol- low In regular order before night has { full sway They did not have to wait long be- fore they saw many little insects of the shade on the wing—among them white and gray, and black and yellow, and white and brown moths, and when Auni Jule called them moths Dorothy “Why flies me.” “Because,” repiied Aunt Jule, “they have been classified according to their horns. Butterfiies have horns with ! knobs or hooks at the end, while moths | have ns which are feathery \H'I thread-like.” ‘Is that Dorothy “No, they folding their feeq or rest. wings over t terflies keep their backs.” “How _curious.” observed Dorothy, “and that is what makes some called butterflies and some moths." | Aunt Jule then id_to Dorothy, Took! There is Mrs. Promethea in her suit of tan and drab” and sure enough there sha was clinging to the trink of a wild cherry tree waving her wings as if she were calling to someone. They did not have to wait fore M call " them just like don't They you 160k butter- them to all the difference” asked | differ in the manner of when they light to moths close their eir backs while the but- their wings open above | long be- Promethea appeared in dark brown veivet bordered with yellow- ish gray, and as the woods became darker others appeared and they flew and fluttered about in what might be called a fairy dance, much to the de- { light of Dorothy. And as they sat and watched, Mr. Cecropia in his gay suit of mouse color and red flew through the recess- es of the wood: and Mr. Polyphemus in his fawn-colored plumage dotted with peacock spots floated majestically through space. “They are just asx pretiy as birds,” ?xn,ln]med Dorothy. “If they only sang, ool” “They have ne sonz,” repiled Aunt Jule, “but they must have a eall of some sort, for they comegggether from long distances and can find one an- other when they are in capilvity and in houses,” ‘How sirange,” eemmented Derothy. | es,” replied Aune Jule, “nature is wanderful in all her works—ihe mys- tery of life is bevond the ken of man.” - UNCELE JED, sleeps nights. When we let him up stairs in the morning he goes out with | basket. us after the milk and he cries until we give him some. _He won’tv?fiz anything- but salmon and milk. en he has had all he wants of these he will run through the fimése and play with-anything he can ind. 3 Mamma taught him to roll over when she says “Nice Tad!” to him. 1 like him very much. HARRIET NEWBURY. Norwich. A Picnic. Last year my mother, my sisters and | myself went on a picnic in the town of Lisbon in the woods called The Pines. They are situated quite a dis- tance from our home. We went at half past two and re- turned home at half past five. We played games for about an hour while my mother read. Then we ate our luncheon. We then told stories and guessed riddles. There was a high hill near by. We climbed the hill and from it we had a Vview of a large part of Jewett C We went down where my mother was, and about five o'clock we went up and saw the sun setting in the west. _Just before we came home we de- cided to go often, for it was very beautiful there; but we never went again. MADELINE BRE! Jewett City. NAN, Age 10. Hans and the King. Once there was a little boy whose name was Hans. Hans was a shep- | Pntcher called them in and gave the herd boy. One day while he was tend- { man his slippers, which Romp had | ing his flocks a man ran in from the forest. He asked Hans how far it was to the next town. “It is five miles,” said Hans, “but it is only a sheep track, and you misht lose your way.” The man said: “Will you go to the village to get me something to eat? and I will give vou more money than You can earn in a year.” “Sir, 1 cannot go.” said Hans. on his shoulder, 2nd beside him his litile son. Suddenly the boy rais- | ed his hand and pointed to a large | bird standing upon a rock above their heads. The bird seemed to be hard at work; it spread its wings, bent its head, and leaped about | ‘There, father, Is a fine, great bird. Shoot, oh, shoot i, quick!” The father hesitated. He knew that he must supply ‘his family with food, but he did not like 7o kill the bird “Why don't you shoot, father? bird 1 be gone. What makes act so queer? What is she doing?” “She is a fine large bird, my boy,’ said the father, “but I cannot shoot her. She is an eider duck, a mother bird, and she is tearing the fathers out | from her own breast to make a soft, The her the smallest loaf which was in the | She thanked the Kind gentle- man and went home. 5 | The next day the children were just | as ill-behaved. but this time Mary re- ceived a loaf which was scarcely half | the size of the other. But when she ' came home her mother cut the loaf open and many pieces of money fell rattling on thewtable. Mary ndother, thinking it was a mis- take, sent her back with the money, but the kind gentleman said NG: it was no mistake. I had the money put in the smallest loaf to re- ward you.” BDNA REIBETANG, Aze 10 Lebanon. Romp. | Once there was a dog named Romp. He and his master were great compan- ions. When Romp went to the store for his master, which he did every day, his master would give him a penny for meat. He would not give the butcher | the money until he had received his meat. B His master was in a firm whose bus- | ness required 2 lot of golng away. On these occasions Romp had to stay home. His master on one occasion being in a hurry did not leave him any money for meat. When Romp's master came hom he asked Romp where his slippers were, because he could not find them. Romp | hung his head and shamefuily went to a corner. One day when Romp and his master were going by the butcher's shop the| carried down for meat. He didn't have | money, so he thought they would do as | well. MARIAN B, New London. { NFORD, Age 10. | A Little Hero. One day a little boy who lived in Weser, Germany, was playing with his little sister, when he was alarmed of some men who were in i LETTERS TO UNCLE JED “Will you go if I take care jour: | by the ‘exy ; sheep?” s take care of YOUr | .\ quit of a mad dog. The boy sud-| « - ! denly turning C = he dog run- | I cannot go. You might get tired | denly turning around, saw the d 0 of your task, and they would get lost | DinE toward him. Instead of running or caught by robbers, or eaten by |away, he took off his coat and, wrap- WOolve sing it around his arm, boldlv faced He laughed and said “You are |the dog. In a few mnmles”vnp mrn} right, my boy. Well, I am very hun- | c2me up and shot the dog. Then, re- | gry and I am going to the village to | Prozchfully,they asked him whv he had get something ¢ g not ni;l'h' his \lzar‘.n]\o_ w 41\;-hd he could | As he was going the boy said 1 | have done easily ie replies have some ham and bread. Do you “If [ had away the dog “”"Mi want some? have bitten so I gave h The man replied “Yes.” my coat | ‘While he was eating he heard some- Age 10. 1 one shouting: “We thought you might | Norwichc. | be lost or killed.” —— } After a few days Hans found out Bobby’s Work. & that the man was the king of the| poypi's father kept the great press, | country and Hans thought the King | yhare he made vinegar | would be angry with him: but the king | “goppy loved to watch the great press | was not angry with the boy. rise and fall, One day his father was | After a few days the King sent for | i, on suadenly ill. It was yet two Hans to be his servant, and Hans | 800 poetofd 7 D™ shoula \,.;[ served him faithfully ever afterwards. | WeSKS Refqre 0 TPRES CllCy® and | LEO LANOIE, Age 9. |82 ey AL | Norwich his father was still very ill. | S At last Bobby said that he was go- | ing to sget the apples himeelf. He| A Dog’s Story. started early in the morning. It took | sl SR e L gice | him thren’ davs to get the apples in.| |22 UIL by..a Deavy wagon WHOSe \rpar THAE He ‘Tiresaed (tha dDIIes. J Whioel crnRd eI 4 3 After a while his father could sit A.n.! As he limped alons —towards his|mppen ne could see the apples being | home a blacksmith saw him and pitied Vher his' Was able. he. went| his pain. He called the dog to him |Dressed. When he Wes 228 00 WOUH| and carefully washed and bound the | Ot and SaW tha s | wounded foot hatiyear . 1 bby's t r ays Ip | Every day after that the dog came | Bobby’s father always let him helr to the blacksmith in the early morn- | him after that. . o & o, ] ing and held hig foot to be dressed. e R | This continued until the foot was well | Willimantic sk 1 agair | , 3 | You may be sure the dog was the | Gen. Phil Sheridan. | blacksmith's friend after that. Philip Heary Sheridan was born | One morning some menths later [in Somerset, Ohio, on the 6th of | when the blaeksmith went to his snop | March, 1831. A story is told of him ! early in the morning he saw two dogs | at the battle of Winchester. He was | oar, flie, dgex: Oney¥ex Iis old friend, | 30 miles awsy, .but. heard the gannon | ie St. Bernar og e ad cured. | roar. | e other was a spaniel whose foot| Whispering a few words in nis | was sore and swollen. | e's ear he rode away. The color | Ah, my friend!"” d the black- | e horse was,very blac He's only | fgml:: x'iynu wszdm« to take care nf! miles now: now u.;n- 10; now only | is fellow, too, do you? —then he’s at Winchester. The St Bernard dog barked and| The lines: were scattered and ‘“"i wagged his tail as if to say “Yes, sir” | soldiers were running away. They | “That's right, old fellow,” said the | plucked up courage when they saw | :;‘r:d ‘fl;rthv ";igl’,Ikn*“' you could de- | “Little Phil”; went back, fought dl‘.d} nd on me, didn’'t you won_the batile. So the spaniel was cured also. When he died all.the United States I am sure the kind blacksmith was | mourned as P.!p)p\’ s the grateful dogs. He is one of the forty American | JOSEPHINE E. BELLNACK, Age 12. | immortals. In remembrance of fle‘ Montville Emm he named the black horse Win- = chester The Eider Duck. JOHN HOGAN, Age 9 “ In a far northern country, one day, a| Puinam man was walking along with a gun up- { i | A Mexican Parrot. Dear Uncle Jed: 1 you about my parrot. Mexico, and has very plumage. We do not real birthday is, so we celebr am going to tell He came from pretty green know when ‘hi te it St. Patrick’s day, because he resembles the St. Patrick's day emblems. Folly has manv tricks. One of his favorites is to gperch on my brother's | shoulder and walk around. | T think all the Wide-Awakes would | Jike to see him when he shows off Firstwe let him out of his cage on the floor, and we say: “Beau Polly,” Then he spreads out his wings | =nd ‘walks al] around with his beak touching the floor. up- warm bed for her little ones. It hurts| 1 will tell you some of the things | her, but she does not mind it, because | Polly says: “Come in!" “Come here!” | she loves them better than she does | “Poilv wants to go to bed!” “Come,| herself. Buff!” “Polly wants his supper!” “Pol- | The . father then told the boy a|ly wants his dinner!”: and he calls touching story of a mother who, in a | “Katherine, Gerard. Mary, Margaret, terrible storm. took the shawl from |and Grandma, and-many other names. her own shoulders to wrap her baby,| CATHERINE DESMOND, Age 12, that it might not suffeér, though she| Norwich. came near perishing with cold.” | : “;l‘ha_t baby,” :’m added, “was your Grace Darling. | itde sister, my boy.” | o Thcle Je ough ould | The boy, looking up, saw tears In| wite (ol er oomy Gimought & mould | n:faljl:_fil{f eves. ~ Is that what the | was a dark September morning and | gider duck is doing?” he asked. “Oh, | there was a storm at sea. A ship had | ather, et her. live , | been driven on the low rocks off the | And so the loving mother bird was | ghores of the Farve Isiands. It had | spared to care for her voung. | been broken in two by the waves and : FRANK PARDY, Age 12. | half of it had been washed away. The Norwich. {other half lay yet on the \«]2;. ‘lxnd = those e crew who were still alive A Morning’s Walk to School. 1whorrx ulr“m e | This beautifui spring morning as 1| ©On one of the islands was a light- | w through the park to school the | house; and there, all through that long air is fresh and balmy, the soft green | night, Grace Darling had listened to grass forms a carpet under my feet: |the storm. Grace was the daughter | | tiny green leaves are sprouting on the tress, and in them 1 hear the chirping of a robin. Yonder I hear the shrill ery of some bluejays, and across ti valley I see two red squirrels playfully running up and down the ( All nature is at her best. In the distance I see the noble white dome of the State House, and it look: whiter than ever against the deep aziure blue of the sky. Not far beyond it is the Union Trust building, while nearer to me is the new nineteen story Turk’s Head skyscraper. To the left are numerous steeples, ruptly into the air: tant are the oblong towers of the State Armory. Descending the long steps T see noth- hng of much interest until passing Garlbaldi,” the largest playground in Rhode Tsland. Then I see Italian wom- en balancing large packs on their heads. Passing through this part, T have come to the clty, where one more n_of a corner will brix a fan ot o bring me to dear HELEN M. Providence, R, I. the (rees, WHITTAKER. The Little Loaf, Onee, when there was a flood, a rich man sent for the twenly poorest chil- dren in the town o coma to his house and said te them; ¢ _ “In the basket there is a bread fer eaeh of you The- children quarrelied and strug- gied for the bread, because eaen wish- ed (o have (he best and iargest. But Mary, & neatly dressed ittle girl, wait- loaf of standing ab- | then farther dis- | of the lighthouse keeper, and she had lived as long as she could remember. | “We must try to ‘save the she | cried, “Let us go out in the boat at | | once! We cannot stay here and see | | them- die,” said Grace, “we must at least try to save them.” | In a few minutes they were ready. | They set off in the heavy lighthouse | boat. At last they were close to the | rock, and now they were in greater | danger than before. But after many | trials Grace's father climbed upon the wreck, while Grace herself held the boat. Then, one by one, the worn- out crew were helped on hoard. Her father climbed back into his place. Strong hands grasped the oars and soon all were safe in the lighthouse. ROSE MONTY, South Canterbury Bennie and Jennie. Dear Uncle Jed: Once upon a time there was a fairy who came to live at a farmhouse with a little boy and girl. They didn't have any father or moth- er, but lived with their aunt. They were never lonely and unhap- py because the falry cared for them. I'will tell you this fairy's name late The children were up very carly in the morning, Bennie milked ihe cows They were as gentle as kitigns. Some- times ihe filey would maKe tho cows whisi their {a Bennle didn’t this when he was milking Jennle was always ready to help earry the mille to the heuse, and the geod fairy went with her and smiled. Then they weuld eat the breakfast the goed aunt had prepared for them. like ed till they had all geme, then she teok Jennje weuld wash the dishes and ' malt in toning up th Don’t Put It Off Another Day! Don’t Wait Until Next Week! Do It To BUY JUST ONE BOTTLE OF KING’S PUREMALT and take it yourself according to directions. It will do wonders e system. It js a food tonic. f to which has been added Hypophosphites of Iron and hops, and Lime. This gives food and tonic to s h. X to the taste—recommended by leading physicians—it is the ideal tonic-food for every member of the family. AGE. éru; wit] K KING'S PUREMALT June vour druggist or is sold at ail g stores and in conformity h the Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906. Send for prices to strict ing's Puremalt Deparimzm, 36-38 Hawiey St, Boston This was hard wor for him, it he would not give up. ‘About ten o'clock Jennie would take him a lunch. Th would rest him and he would go to his wgain. Then Jennie would nim and teli him stories till his mowinz was done. At night they were happy because they had done =0 much The name of the fairy is Industry She is the good fairy who helps those that help themselv MILDRED ILER, Age 13. Norwich My Trip to Hartford. Dear Uncle Jed: Last summer and Thanksgiving, while I was on my visi i stayed with my aunt. When you are Zoing to her home you have to 2o through Bushnell park Bushnell park is big. I went through the capitol and wrote my name on ma books. I went from the first floor Lo the top ang was very dizzy. On Sunday [ went to Elizabeth park. First T went looking for at last found them ice cream ough both the lambs and Then we had som and went home. I we Pope's and Colt’s park and thought them beautiful. I saw the Connect- er when T was go to Wast Hartford. While T wag there T at- tended the Poli and Park theaters. [ went out every night that it wasm't stormy with my uncle MONICA DONOVAN Age 12. Grandpa’s Farm. Dear Unci> Jed: 1 am zoing you about my grandfather’'s farm, where I spend the summer. T ar so many interesting things over there There are the little chickens, and Fudgey, the dog; Nigsy, the kitten the hens and roosters, the cows and pigs, the horses and the barn cats. My brother anq I play hens and roosters, hencoop. When we want to zet out 1 climb over the fence and unlock the door. Then we go where the hens lay their eggs and roosters roost and get to tell T fluffy feathers. We blow them and see whose ©o out of sight. When I get tired of playing I wait till a strong wind blows and then let them all go. We take walks in the fields and gather berries and When the dinner bell rings we hur- ry in and sit down to grandmother’s table. FRANKLIN D. CROSBY, Age 8. Danielson. On a Chicken Farm Dear Uncle I live on a fair sizeq chicken farm. We have now about seven hundred young chickens My Little Kitty. Dear Uncle Jed: I have a little kitty and her name is Topsy: She has very many trick: One is when mother pares potatoes she will jump upon her side and wait unti] ghe gives her some pleces, When you hold her she will Jump over vour hand. When you play with her she will bite and scratch. 1 whip her some- and we lock ourselves in the | PuremaLy day! Made from pure the stomach. Pleasant NOT A BEVER- i times for it. She gets frightened and | So she filled the pitcher with water runs away | and gave it to the lady, and the lady This winter hen it was cold I would | said ~ put her down cellar where it was T will give you a present. ~When warm, and at she would skeep | you speak diamonds and pearls shall on stean " They ar wide | come out of your mouth.” noug 10 her and are cove Then the little girl ran home to with asbeztos She slept there a gr tell her m her. nan ts #nd I did not know where | The mother said, “What is that?’ she was; but 4 saw her one 1r {and the little girl told her ing up tbere, and’ then I knew whe the mother told the other she siept to get some water. 1 toid B n was a wise cat She did not want to go, but the to know to go to Keep warm, mother coaxed and picaded with her 1 I al 1 the stor n Wide- | Awake circle and write irl took the pitcher and one, but mother thought 1 could not sling along. When she got | Now she laughs when she sees what | met the fairy and the fairy { T write about says “Good, | | Mary give me a drink?” “I love to read stories about kitties id, “I did not come here hd hope someone will enjoy reading | to ! | The fairy said: “I will give you a With best wishes. vour littlo friend, | present. When you talk toads and MARY ELIZABETH O'NEILL, |snakes wili come out of your mouth.’ Norwich, Age 8. | Then the little girl ran home to tell 3 her mother, but the toads and snakes ! Kirdnsss Returasd came out so fast that she couldn't Dear Uncle Jed: This is my first at- | 0 PO% o0 iNE PERRY, Age 9. tempt at story making. Scotland. | A lady was one day walking to a 4 i A ‘:..m.n She saw a cab and rL:H;(I‘ to How Sacdod > Wiotel | the man to take her to her destinatio More than once in his letters and S ths wi siie v @ barefoot boV | pymphiets Sardou has described his walking along the road, 1ooking very | mothods of work” says Jerome A iand weacy Hart in his “Sardou and the Sardou She asked the coachman to take him | plays» “Whenever an Mea occurred |up, and said: “I a for " toim he immediately made a mem- ety 7 " orandum of it. These notes he classi- When he came to his journey’s .1;«11 fied and filed. For example, years be- she ned he was bound for the|fore the production of ‘Thermidor he | st seaport to offer himself as a| had the thought of one day such a | play. Gradually the character of Fabi- wenty years later a robust 100King | enne shaped itself; Labussiere was sea captafm was Tic along in a| devised later to fit Coquelln. Everye stagecoach,. en this very same road, | thing that he read about the epoch of when he saw a poor old lady walking | the French revolution, and the ideas | wearily along. The captain told the | which this reading inspired, he wrote | coachman to pull up his horses, and, | down in tke form of rough notes. En- putting the old lady in, he said gravings, maps, prints, and other doc- ‘I shalj pay for her | Uments of the time he carefully col- | The old lady thanked him and said: { lected | “I am too poor to pay for a ride now | “Memoirs and histories he annotated that 1T am old and feeble.” and indexed, filing away the index | The captain answered: “1 always feel | references In his file cases, or dossiers, | for those who have to walk. I re-| At the time of his death Sardou had | member twenty vea ¢ | many hundreds of these dossiers, old lad, walking ale | and new. Some of the older ones had | & Kind lady paid m been worked up into plays, while the |- «on, d “she, 1 newer ones were merely raw material | but things have changed since the for future dramas. When the idea of ! The captain said: “I have made a |8 play had measurably shaped itself fortune and have come home to enjoy | in his mind he wrote out a skeleton it. I will allow you $125 every year | Plot, which he placed in its dossler. as long as you live.” There it might iie indefinitely. In this The old lady burst Into tears while | shape “Thermidor remained for nearly she thanked him again and again for | tWenty vears, and ‘Theodora’ for ter. IS generonity | “When he ‘considered that the time CATHALEEN HICKEY, Age 13. | Was ripe for one of his embryoni Willimanti A Fairy Story. Uncle Jed: Onc Dear o there was a plays Sardou wold take out that par- ticular dossier, read cver the material, and lay it asife again. After it had fermented in his brain for a time he would, if the inspiration selzed him write out a scenario. After” this he | began the actual writing of the play.” i Chance For Real Reform. It Postmaster General Burleson is a | true reformer he will not omit to re | commend in strong terms that the | Congressional franking graft be abol- ished—Kansas City Journal. perfect There Ky ? is no woman. Isn't it I help tend the chickens. h mughters: We have about one hundred and fif- | Womanawho had two daughters. ty yearling hens. We recelve from | The oldest daughter was like her ninety to one hundred eggs from these | mother, proud and unkind, and the | hens. Most of our eggs we ship to |youngest was like her father, swee Boston. and kind. : RiECL I have at present a litter of ki The youngest had to eat by her- tens from a milk white moth There | Self and had to do all the hard work. are three white ones, and one gray one. | Bvery day she had to go after water The gray one Is the' brightest of vmn.1 ik e e I hope to make good rat Beck | Tty T8O FRGN (BB ue TS out of ther s0 as to ake elp | ARPONL £ i L pestst. A Yau STE: Jewett City. Shadows. Dear Uncle Jed: I thought I would write you about the Shadow Robert’s mother placed him in his chair the other morning and left him for a few moments. While she was gone she heard him laugh very loud ly ang returning quietly, she v that the rays of the sun were shining on the tray of his chair. In moving his hand he caused the shadow to cross the tray. This was what made him laugh. ~ Finally he decided to catch . he shadow. He tried every way but % in vain; suddenly an idea seemed to £ enter his little head. He placed his L) arm along one side of the tray and | raising his hand, quickly brought i down {o where the shadow would have | —— — :)(-e)n but ;.l[;xs! the shadow was not | ALCOHOL 3 PER CBS«'{‘: o be caugl 1 - , Time after time he tried, but could AVegetable Preparationfors- T »\’jl. hej 1 fdu At simitating the Food anReguia: st, giving up in despair, he laid his head down upon mother’s shoul- | ling the Stomachs and| der and cried as if his heart would | o o braal “ INEANTS “CHlILDREN Robert is only six months old and | R o S cannot be blamed for chasing the | shadows. In reality, we strive for | Pomoieleges(ionfllu_n'd- the shadows and leave t really | ness and Rest.Contalns reiiter i i U B L Opiuma Morphine nor Miveral Norwi AGNES BOBSEIN, Age 11 NoT NARCOTIC. ot = 4 A Trin to Bailey’s Ravine. m"“n: ”’.dfim_‘ - Dear Uncle Jed: T am,going to tell At.#;:a# i you about a trip to Bail Ravine Tchelle Salls~ f I took last summer. Six of us went ges . Saesel o E together. e left Willimantic early el B pengiial = 4 in the morning ang took the trolley for | Ry L e Bailey's. Ravine. When nearly there ’f?,"zy'?'d' B We got off at a pond to fish. We fish- [ h A ed about two hours, but we didn't catch many fish and finally the bait Aperfect Remedy for Comsfigt gave out so we gave up fishing alto- | {ion, Sour Stomiach, Diatrhoea gether. % o i After eating our lunch we went the Worrs Convalsions Feverisk whole length of the ravine. It was so ness al LOSS OF SLEER dry there was very little water run- = . F ning through it. We saw quantities TecSimie Signature of of mountain laurel. The mosquitoes were SO lhift'k T\'n‘wore z%‘}’ad B:)nugh &‘r\) s get away from there. We then took sames 1 the trollev for home. T5x CENTAUR COMPAKY, | RUTH KINGSLEY, Age 11. NV YORK. t e cotiand, pphnihs old LOSES — 35('} NTS 53y (Sinvanteed ander ct Copy of Wrapper. For Infants and Children The Kind You Have Always Bought Bears the Signature For Over Thirty Years GASTORIA THE CENTAUR COMPANY, NEW YORK CITT.