Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, May 23, 1909, Page 24

VERY GOOD historical story was sent in this week by one of the Busy Bees. Let us have a vote from each of the writers, telling what kind of stories they like; that is, whether they prefer fairy stories, stories of animals and birds, stories of Some of the Busy Bees are interested in plants and flowers. ex-queen bee, and Frances Johnson wen and here are the names of some of the red-headed woodpecker, chimney swift, meadow lark, wren, kinglet, ruby-erowned kinglet, vesper sparrow, travel or storles of historical events. Myrtie Jensen, t out one day last week to study birds, birds they saw: Blue bird, cow bird, cedar-wax-wing, gold finch, king bird, Harris’ sparrow, red start, whitecrowned sparrow, field sparrow, sharp-tailed sparrow and the chewink kinds of birds in the parks and woods i ' Prizes were awarded to Jeannette Hinman, on the Red side. Honorable on the Blue side. How many of the Busy Bees knew there were so many n Omaha? Miller, on the Blue side, and to Irene mention was given to Irene Reynolds, Any of the Busy Bees may send cards to anyone whose name is on the Posteard Exchange, which now includes: Marguerite Johnson, nfih_avenue, Umaha. Jean De Long, Alnsworth, Neb. Irene McCoy, Barnston, Neb, Lillian Merwin, Beaver City, Neb. Mabel Witt, Bennington, Neb. Anna Gottsch, Bennington, Neb. Minnle Gotisch, Bennington, Neb. Asnes Daanike, Benson, Neb. Marie Gallagier, Benkelman, Neb. (box 12). lda May, Central City, Neb. Veia Clieney, Crelghton, Neb. Louls Hahn, 'David City, Neb. Rhea Freidell, Dorchester, Neb. Eunice Bode, Falis City, Neb. Ethel Reed, Fiemont, Neb. Hulda Lundbu:g, Fremont, Neb. Marion Cupps, Gibson, Neb. Margueiite Bartholomew, Gothenburg, Neb. Lyd.a Roth, «6 West Koenlg street, Grand Grand 933 North Twenty- 7 West Charles street, Irene Costelio, 116 West Grand_lisland, Neb. Jesste Crawford, 4056 West Charles Grand lsland, Neb. Pauline Schulte, 412 West Fourth Grand lsland, Neb. Martha Murphy, 923 Ninth Grand lsland, Neb. Hugh Rutt, Leshara, Hester E. Rutt, Alige Temple, Ruth Temple, Lexington, Anna Neilson, Lexington, Edythe Kreitz, Lexington, b, Marjorie Temple, Lexington, Neb. Alice Grassmeyer, 156 ( Lincoln, Marian Hamilton, 208 L Lincoln, Eisle Hamilton, 2029 L St, Lincoln, Irene Disher, 280 L street, Lincoln Hughie Disher, 2080 L steet, Lincoln, Louise Stiles, Lyons, Neb. Estelle McDonaid, Lyons, Miiton Selzer, Nebraska Harry Crawford, Nebraska Harvey Crawford, Nebraska Lucile Hazen, Norfolk, Neb, ’ Letha Larkin, So. Sixth St., Norfolk, Neb, Emma Marquardt, Fifth street and Madi- son avenue, Norfolk, Neb. Gerevieve M. Jones, North Loup, Neb. Helen Goodrich, 4110 Nicholas street, Omahs Orrin Fisher, 1210 South Kleventh street, Mildred Erickson, Omaha. 210 Howard Omahs. Louis Raabe, 2609 North Nineteenth ave- Frances Johnson, 933 North Twenty-tifth avenue, Omaha, Eighth street, street, street, East Neb. Leshare, Neb. Lexington.” Neb, street, street, Omaha. 210 Howard Oscar Erickson, street, rue, Omaha. Emma Carruthers, 3211 North Twenty-fift} street, Omaha. Lecnora Denison, The Alblon, Tenth Pacific streets, Omaha. Mae Hammond, O'Nelll, Neb. Macge L. Daniels, Ord, Neb. Zola Beddeo, Orleans, Neb. Agnes Richmond, Orleans, Neb. Marfe Fleming, Oscecla, Neb. Lotta_Woods, Pawnee City, Neb. Earl Perkins, Reddington, Neb Emma_Kostal, 1516 O street, Bouth Omaha. Edra Enis, Stanton, Neb. Ethel Enis. Stanton, Neb. Lena Petersen, 2211 Locust street, Omaha. ' Ina Carney, Sutton, Clay county, Neb. Clara Miller, Utica, Neb. Mildred F. Jones, North Loup, Neb. Alta Wilken, Waco, Neh. Mae Grunke, West Point, Neb. Elsie Stastny, Wilber, Neb. Frederick Ware, Winside, Neb. Pauline Parks, York, Neb. Edna Behling, York, Neb. Mary Frederick, York, Neb. Carrie B. Bartlett, Fontanelle, Ta. Irene Reynclds, Little Sloux, Ia. Fthel Mulholland, Box 71, Malvern, Ia. Eleanor Mellor. Malvern, Ia. Kethryne Mellor, Malvern, Ruth Robertson, Manilla, Ta. Iildred Robertscn. Manilla, Ia. Margaret B. Witherow, Thurman, Ia. Fred Sorry, Monarch, Wyo. John Barron, Monarch, Wyo. Edith Amend, Sheridan, Wyo. Pauline Squire, Grand, Okl Fred Shelley, 280 Troup street, City, Kan. Henry L. Workinger, care Sterling Remedy company, Attica, Ind. Mary Brown, 2322 Boulevard, Omaha. Eva Hendee, 402 Dodge street, Omaha. Juunita Innes, 2769 Fort street, Omaha. Lilllan Wirt, 4168 Cass stieet, Omaha. Emile Brown, 222 Boulevard, Omaha. Meyer Cohn, 848 Gecrgia avenue, Omaha. ‘Ada Morris, 3424 Franklin street, Omaha. Myrile Jensen, 2009 Izard street, Omaha. Gall Howard, 4722 Capltol avenue, Omaha. Helen Houck, 16% Lothrop street, Omaha. Etoerson Goodrich, 4010 Nicholas, Omaha. Maurice Johnson, 1027 Locust St., Omaha. Leon Carson, 1124 North Fortieth, Omaha. Wilma Howard, 4728 Capitol Ave., Omaha. Hilah Fisher, 1210 South Eleventh, Omaha. Mildred Jensen, 2107 Leavenworth, Omaha. Edna Heden, 2780 Chicago street, Omaha. Mabel Sheifelt, 4914 North Twenty-fifth rtreet, Omaha. Walter Johnson, 2406 North Twentieth street, Omaha. and East Ia. Kansas Ethel May's Reward By Maud Walker. HERE were three of the Ander- son children—Gracie, aged 15 Jack, aged 13; Ethel May, aged i—and all three were spend- 4 the summer with an aged unt in the country, on & beau- near to a small and interesting As the Anderson children's home was in a very large ecastern city, they found & great deal of pleasure, and many surprises, in the country. There seemed no end to the variety of sights and sounds. There were the domestic animals, fowls in the barnyard, the flelds, gardens, meadows, woods and hills; and then there were the brooks and ponds, full of fish, the meadows and woods full of birds and noisome in- sects. One day during the last week of May the children's Aunt Mary called them to her on the big front porch, saying: My old friend, Mrs. Jones, just called me by ‘phone this morning and says she is ar- ranging a picnic in the woods for her grandchildren, who are visiting her from the city, and she begs me to allow you three youngsters to be of her company. Would you enjoy a picnic the day after tomorrow?" “Oh, yes, auntle" exclaimed all three children. Then one spoke at a time: “I don't think there'’d be anything nicer, Aunt Mary, than a picnic in the wild woode." So spoke Gracle. “Oh, I'll take along' my fishing tackle and fetch home enough finnles for dinner,” cried Jack. “And 1 think it would be perfectly splen- ald," agreed Ethel May; “I do love a ple- nle more than anything." hen all be prepared to start at 9 o'clock on the day after tomorrow,” sald Aunt Mary. “I'll see that a fine luncheon \s prepared for you to carry with you. John, our man, will take you in the car- riage to Mrs. Jones' house From there yowll go afoot to the woods—which Is only & mile distant- trom Mrs. Jones' place.” Of course, the ehildren talked of nothing else all that day except the coming pienic im the woods, They had never enjoved a country plenie and this one held much pleasure for them. On the day of the plenic the Anderson children were ready to start to the home of Mrs. Jones long before John had the carriage In readiness, and thelr baskets were filled with luncheon, the yery best that Aunt Mary's fine old colored cook could prepare. It was wanting a quarter of an hour till 9—the time set for starting—when Jane, the housemaid, called to Gracle: “Come to your aunt's room at once, miss; she taken suddenly fIL." Gracle, accompanied by her brother and FLL GET THE BASKETS IN THE CARRIAGE, GIRLS, WEILE YOU ARE GET- TING ON YOUR JACKETS sister, ran upstairs to Aunt Mary's room and found that good old lady lying on her bed very pale and il looking. After a fow inquiries Aunt Mary explained that she had been very miserable all night, but that she had tried to dress in order to come down to see the children off on thelr day's outing; but she had become o faint that sre was obliged to lle down and to call ic Jane to come to her assistance. “I have asked her to 'phone to my doctor, who lives' In the village, and he'll be here within an hour. I am sorry to have spolled your starting, children, dear.” 8o spoke old Aunt Mary. “But shall we go to the picnic?”’ asked Ethel May, solicitously. “I don’t think we should leave Auntie when she is il A cloud passed over Gracle's face. It was plain she did not wish to be disap- pointed In the picnic. She turned toward Jack, who stood looking his displeasure at Ethel May for having made such a blun- der. He, too, did not wish to remaln away from the plenic. Then he spoke up: “I really don't see what we kids could do for Aunt Mary. There s Jane to walt on her, and the doctor will be here di- rectly. 1 think we'd better go to the pic- nie, for Mrs. Jones and the Jones kids will be looking for us. “Yes," sald Gracle, adding her argu- ment to Jack's, “auntle will be well cared for by Jane and the doctor. We—as Jack says—can be of no use to her. We'll be in the way only." Ethel May's face reddened, and she turned a sharp look on her brother and sister: *Well," she sald, “we may not be of any use as far as waiting on auntle s concerned, but we can be company for her and try to cheer her up. I for one won't leave her while she's {IL." Aunt Mary put out her hand and touched Ethel May's hair gently. “Dear little girlle,”” she sald feebly, “you shall not sac- ritice your day for me. I shall get on very well with Jane to nurse me, and as Jack and Gracle are so anxlous to go to the plenie 1 would not for the world de- tain them here. No, all of you go. And it is time you were off; John is at the gate now with the carrlage.” Well, Aunt Mary, I hope you'll be O K when we get home this evening," ex- clalmed Jack, hurrying from the room. “I'll get the luncheon baskets In the car- riage, girls, while you are getting on your jackets and hats. But hurr “ANl right, Jack, we'll follow immedi- ately,” called out Gracle. Then stboping, she kissed her old aunt's cheek. ‘“Goodby, Auntie,” she sald. “I hope you'll be well soon. The doctor will fix ycu up all right, I'm sure. Come, Ethel May, don't s‘and there and worry Aunt Mary. I fancy she Old Mother But as soon as the voe HANOVER Bear and little young bears All winter had lain in a hole, first spring days arrived The Bears From the gloom and darkness they stole To the light of day and pure sweet air, And each little bear laughed with glee; Are Out Again “Ah, ha! It is fine to be wide awake, To have light, air and grand liberty!"™ in chorus cried, We'll eat, play, hunt and fight, And we'll make our day just months long, For we've had six months of night.” Then loud together they six And Mother Bear, with a look of pride On her children stdnding there, Said, “I know that you will all grow up To terrorize folks everywhere. “You'll frighten boys and big men, too, And 'twill be such jolly fun To see those queer two-legged things Turn pale when they see you and run.” M. W. RULES FOR YOUNG WRITERS 1. Write plainly on one side of the paper only and number the pages. 8. Use pen and ink, not pencil 3. Bhort and pointed articles will be given preference. Do mot use over 250 words. 4. O stories or letters only witl b6 Gsete 5. Write your mame, age snd ad- Qreas at the top of the Arst page. Firet and second prizes of books will be given for the best twe ocon- to this page each week. 3‘“10-! All communications to UEILDREN'S DEPARTMENT, Omaha Ree. (First Prize.) How Mother Earth Settled the Question By Jeannette Miller, Aged 12 Years, Fair- mont, Neb. Blue Side. It was a beautitul spring morning. The trees were covered with follage and the ®rass was dotted with spring flowers. High up In an oak tree In the forest sat the twelve months. They were busily dis- puting some question. “Well,” said January, “I think I'm the nicest. Don't I bring the new year?" “Well, suppose you do,” said May, who carried a, beautiful golden wand in her hand, which at the end spread out into dainty little spring flowers, “but that iy not half as nice as the beautiful fiowers 1 bring.” “Oh, triends, friends!” broke in October, “you know October s the nicest month. Don't I bring the beautiful color to the leaves and turn the corn a finc yellow and the apples a lovely red?” “Well, I don't see," sald November. “I am the very best, I'm sure, ‘cause I bring the glorious Thanksgiving day, the pumpkin pies and 8o many deliclous things to eat, and besides I send the hot, stuffy days of summer away." “Oh, I wouldn't have your chilly days, and the eating just proves, as I have al- ways sald, that, llke December, your heart's in your stomach,” said July scorn- tully. “Well, well welll” exclaimed March. “This Is a pretty state of affairs, when it has always been proved that we—that April, May and myself—are the very best. “Oh, 1 told you so, my sister of winter, that this youngster Is all wind and blus- ter and now she has just proved it so.” “Tut, tut, tut!" came a volce from be. low. All the months started and whis- pered, “It's Mother Earth.” 4 “My naughty children, what are you doing?" went on the volce. “Well, sald April, beginning to cry, “they sald they were the very nicest and didn't let me talk at all.” She would have done it, too, if she had a chance, “I am very much ashamed of you for quarreling Itke this, But since you want to know so badly I'll tell you. All months were put In the year for a purpose; each one has her work to do to help me get f00d and clothing for the mortals and also pleasures. o, you sece, not one of you is the nicest. “Now, my dear little May, go on your way. I have gotten ready for the vio- lets. Now, you go give them a word of cheer. The rest of you go to sleep until I wake you for your reign. And so with that Mother Earth and May went about their work and the others got on their nightcaps for a long sleep. (Second Prize.) An Exploring Trip By Irene Hinman, Aged 13 Years, 3420 North Twenty-eighth Street, Omaha. Red Side, Youth is always full of curiosity, and it reached its highest point at Lothrop school when about thirty youngsters decided to ®0 on an exploring expedition to Florence to hunt violets and anything else of an in- teresting nature. The fame of the great war balloon had reached the ears of these children, and on nearing the fort they decided to investigate. As we approached the building where the balloons were kept the guard at the door told us “To move on,' but one youngster more mischievous than the rest spoke up and sald: ““Well, Mister, we have to write a composition on what we see.” 8o the guard kindly let us in, showed us through and explained the different features of the balloon. This was a balloon made of the finest quality of Japanese silk. It held 19,000 cubic feet of gas and it was weighted down with forty sandbags, each welghing forty pounds. Our feelings can only be imagined when on Monday at ncon the balloon was high up in the sky, and next we heard It had blown up and is now a thing of the past. (Honorable Mention.) Grandpa’s Story By Irene Reynolds, Aged 12 Years, Little Sfoux City, Ta. Blue side. Grandma was sitting peacefully by the fireside. After awhile Joe, Donald, Paul, Fern and Dotty came in the room to disturb his reveries, “'Oh, Grandpa, tell us a story,” cried Joe; he was the oldest of the children and was a very healthy lad “‘Oh, yes, do,” cried the rest. “What kind of a story do you want?’ asked Grandpa. “A story of when you were a little boy,"” sald Dotty, “When I was about 5 years old my father decided to go to Salt Lake City, in Utah,” began Grandpa. ““Where did you live before you moved?" asked Fern. n Tllinols,” said Grandpa. “Well, we got a covered wagon and started out on our long journey. The hired :!lmn and my oldest brother drove the cat- 4 “Did they have to walk all the way?' asked Paul. “Most of the way. night. barn. seven Well T recollect one We found a hut and a little sod We put our horses away. We had in the barn. That night we heard our dog barking and a loud racket.” “Oh!" cried Fern, “I bet you scared. “Yes," continued Grandpa, “I was very much scared, but we slipped on our clothes and went out to the barn. I was the last was v wants to be left alone. Come.” And Gracle was off down the stairs llke a flash, all thought of the aged sick aunt vanished as she saw the carrfage waiting at the gate. “Why don’t you go, child?” asked Aunt Mary, turning to Ethel May, who still lin- gered In her room. Because, Auntle, I just can't go off and leave you sick In bed. And I wouldn't enjoy the picnic were I to go, knowing you were here alone and ll. I know just how Jane will do. She'll come to you when called and perform just the little errands you require of her. Then she'll hurry down to the kitchen to gossip with cook and the gardener. I know her and the other serv- ants, too. They'll neglect you. So I mean to stay and look after you." Tears trickled down old Aunt Mary's cheeks, and she caught Ethel's hands In her own ad pressed them tenderly, saying, “Thank you, dearie. It Is sweet to have some one with you who loves you. Serv- ants want only money. You stay with me because—"' “Because you are the dearest old auntie in the world, and I love you," declarcd Bthel May. “And now I shall see about making you more comfortable.” And the little miss soon had her auntie in a loose robe and back into hed, where the pillows were fixed fust right, and the window shades were so adjusted that the morning sun and alr came into the room, but dld not fall on the bed. Then, running to the garden Ethel May picked a bouquet of roses and placed them in a vase of water near to her aunt's bed. The doctor came and found Aunt Mary fecble and “run down,” as he expressed it. Nothing serious, but a sore of break- down. climate, “How would California do?" asked Aunt Mary. “I've long thought of making a nice trip there.” “Just the place, clared the doctor. are a bit strenger. next week " After the doctor had departed Aunt Mary turned to Ethel May, saying, “You and I will start for California this day week, dear. 8o you may make your plans ac- cordingly. I'll write your parents tomorrow about it. They'll be delighted to have you accompany me on this enjoyable trip “And brother and sister—will you them, too?" asked unselfish Ethel May. Aunt Mary shook her head. *No, childle, only you shall go with me. You have proven your unselfishness this day and de- serve a reward. It shall be in the form of a visit to all parts of Interest on the Pa- cifie coast as far as we can go and remain In our own country. And maybe next year we'll go to Old Mexico—you and L You sec, deare, love—disinterested love—is a rare thing, and when one finds it, as I have found It In you today, one must value it dearer than all else In future you shall be my dearest on and I shall try to repay you for your sweet, youthful devotion and selt-sacriiicing kindness.' And Ethel May's Aunt Mary kept her word, and that time next week found them driving to the raflroad station in the vil- lage, where they would take the train for the great and glorfous west. And Jack and Gracle returned home to the eity and bad ample time to ponder over why Ethel May should be taken and they left behind. He advised a change of scene and my dear woman,” de- “And go as s0on as you You'll be able to start take one ready, and as I got close to a clump of bushes two Indlans, with two horses, came toward me. When they came closer 1 saw that they were on our horses.'" “Oh, my,” sighed Dotty. “I was so frightened I dropped on the ground right where 1 was. The Indians went past me."” “Did they get away “Yes, they got away; but a few days afterward I saw the horses grazing and a little way off the Indians were cooking their meal.” Here Grandpa paused for breath, Did you get your horses?” asked Joe. “Yes. Father took some shells, stones and two red and green blankets and bought the horses with those things, “Well, now, g0 to bed.” * asked Donald. ) How Johnny Won the Prize By Fred Sorry, King Bee, Monarch, Wyo. Red Side. “Oh, mamma,” sald Johnny, into the kitchen, out of breath. “My old hen is setting and no eggs under her. What kind of eggs shall we put under her?! sald Johnny, with eyes wide open, for he was thinking how many eggs he was to set. . “Let's set some white turkey eggs and in a few weeks we shall have some little yellow turkeys." “But, mamma, I thought you sald a while ago that you were going to set white turkey eggs, not yellow." “Yes, my boy, I sald that, sure enough, but they will be yellow when they hatch and when they grow larger they will pe- come white.” Johnny's mamma brought out twelve eggs from a basket, which she had laycd away. Johnny put the eggs under the hen and walked away, leaving the old setting hen behind him. Days and days passed by, By and by the eggs hatched, and how surprised Johnny was. But there was one little turkey so small and weak it couldn't keep up with the old hen. Johnny took it In the house and put it by the warm fire. It grew strong 'n a few days. Months passed by and the lit- tle turkey grew to be a large turkey. As the days passed by he grew more and more beautiful. He was larger and pret- tler than any turkey around there, It happened that there was golng to be a county falr the next month, which was August. Johnny took his turkey to the falr and, what do you think, he got the prize. He was surprised to see his turkey wearing a blue ribbon around its neck. How happy Johnny was when he saw this. The last day of the fair came and Johnny went home with his turkey and the blue ribbon tled around its neck. When Johnny walked in the door of his home he jingled ten dollars In his pocket to show his mother how happy he was. Johnny was £lad he had taken such good care of the turkey. running The Blackbird’s Trouble By Rena Mead, Queen Bee, Aged 13 Years, Blair, Neb. Blue Bide. Spring is here with its dress of green, Bringing the birds of many hues; The red bird with his merry whistle, And the black bird with the blues. Perhaps you would like to know why the black bird had blues; It 16 a short little story, but sad, 8o I hope you will listen while I tell you, For then 1 know you will never be bad. He cannot find his nest or mate, Where do you 'spose they've gone? 1 know, for a little bird told me, In his merry little song. This is what the little bird sang, And this is what I heard: “A big, big boy came out with a gun, To hunt the dear little birds. He walked right up by the side of the tree, And stood with his head turned round; He cocked the gun and pulled the trigger, And the little bird fell to the ground. The dog pounced out upon the bird, The boy climbed after the nest; He blew the yolk all out of the eggs, And then sat down to rest.” Now, my dear children, you surely must know That this was a cruel boy, Else he ne'er would have done the thing that he did, And have any comfort or joy, Now you all know blues, For the black bird is always black; He had lost his nest and all’ the eggs, Never more to come back. why the black bird had You do not like even to lose a penny, Let alone your dear loving motl Your father, your sister or baby, Or even your mean, teasing brother. 8o take care that you don't kill any birds, But feed them the long winter through, Then you will be blessed With thelr merry, sweet son, Enough to pay you one or two. There is & lesson in this, If it is all told out In verse; S0 whenever you see boys killing the birds, Just this little poem rehearse. The Brownies’ Bungalow By Helen Johnson, Aged 18 Years, 334 South Seventeenth street, Lincoln, Neb. Blue Side The queen of the brownles sat upon & bank of moss, In the form of a star, and playfully watched her busy little brownies work. The point of each corner of the star was an electric light, which when- ever it shone upon her beautiful face cast a green light. A row of blue bells hung above her head, and whenever she wanted any of her little servants, she touched them with her wand, which brought forth a sweet musical ring. The brownles were busy all day long making wreaths and chains out of their cherry blossoms, which they put upon their queen's head. The trees in those days were much larger than they are now, and in the hollow of one of those trees was the brownles' home or bungalow. They were often greeted by the little squirrels as they scampered up and down the trees and often fed them nuts. The leaves on the trunk of the tree made a netting over their home, and you may be sure no person passing that way ever caught a glimpse of these quick little people. and they were just as happy with only thelr queen's presence. The queen In return would let them gather at the foot of her soft, green throne and often tell them storfes of the strange being known as people, and read them strange stories telling the people’s opinion of these strange little folks. The Story of the Apple Blossom By Bunloe Bode, Aged 12 Years, Falls City, Neb. Lock Box 2 Blue Side. Bob Robin brought me an invitation to Queen Rose's reception. You may imagine how much it meant to a little apple blos- som like me to be invited. As it may In- terest you I will tell you about It. First we were ushered into the reception room by bumblebecs, who saw to it that we were seated and then we were entertained by some lovely music that was given by a quartet of bees, who certainly sang in a most praiseworthy manner. Miss Bluebell sang a solo, which I enjoyed very much, for, as I have sald before, I am very fond of musie. We had a royal visitor, the queen of fairies, whom I had never seen before. I have a very good impression of her, for she seemed so sweet and gentle. Queen tose and she are very dear friends and I overheard her telling the queen that my modest manner pleased her very much. Deliclous refreshments were served. hey consisted of honey wafers and dew and then we all went home, 1 am not feeling well today. My petals are so loose that I am afrald they will drop off. One has blown away already and It was my very prettiest, too, for It had such a lovely blush of pink on it that I was quite proud of it. I guess I am not @ pretty blossom -any more. Oh, dear! I do wonder what {s going to happen to me. ‘We will see next week. Robert’s Lesson By Clarence Siekkotter, Gretna, Neb, Red Side. is tall and slim. He can climb a tree very fast. One day he was up in a tree and was going to steal four eggs. Just as he put out his hand to get the eggs he heard a volce which scemed to say “Rob, Rob, robber. Rob, Rob, robber. Then he looked arpund, but saw nothing 50 he thought he would try it again. But when he put out his hand he heard the same voice call, “Rob, Rob, robber. He knew that it was wrong to steal, so he went home, but could not get away from the voice which said, “Rob, Rob, ropber,” and when he got home he begged his parents to call him Bert instead of Robert, which they did. Bragging By Ella Schulz, Aged 10 Years, 1609 Hen- rletta Avenue, Bast St. Louls, Il Red Side. In a beautiful orchard in California there grew an apple and peach tree. It hap- pened In the time of year when both were in bloom. One beautiful Rob day in August the apple tree sald to the peach, “I am better than you are. I am prettier, too, and every- body loves me, and you are as ugly and as mean as can be." The peach tree nodded and replied, “I can't help it if you are prettier, but still some people like me as well as they like you." “Oh, you think you are smart,” said the apple tree. “I'm erimson and pretty.” The peach tree did not answer, but thought it would get even some day. A few days after a great storm arose, The wind blew furiously and all at once the apple tree gave a terrible crash and fell to the ground. After that the apple tree never dared say anything agalnst the peach tree. A Disobedient Girl By Helen McEachern, Aged 11 Cornwall Island, Canada. There once llved a girl whose name was Rose-Red, and every time her mother asked her to do anything she would say, “I don't want to.” One day her mother asked her to go to the store for her to get some sugar and tea, but she sald, “I don't want to.” Two days afterward she was In the kitchen drying the dishes, when she heard a rap at the door. She went to the door and recelved a note. Bhe read it and found that she was invited to a tea party, but sh could not go because her mother was sick. ext day she dled and left the little girl. After that she always did what she was told. Bhe sald that she wished that she had done what her mother told her. After (hat she had to llve with an aunt. I think this taught her a lesson, don't you? The Flower's Visit Edna Rohrs, Aged 12 Y cust Street, Omaha. I One afternoon as Lols lay the hammock she heard a queer Looking up, she saw what scemed to be a rose walking across the porch. All curi osity, she started to watch it. The rose was very tall and slender and as she walked the leaves formed a beautiful gown and her petals a pretty hat. Then cs the same strange song agaln, and automoblle made of prickly burrs lined with rose petals came in sight. Lady Rose walked up to it and said to the driver, Larkspur, “Drive me tp Lady Pan: > ‘hen she entered the car and darove away. Whether she had & nice visit T do not know, for just then Lols woke up. She had been dreaming. A Bavre Girl (A Reproduction), By Ruth Erickson, 13 Years, Neb. Red Side. Little Mary lived with he mother in a lttle cottage among the mountains. Beautiful and sweet were the short spring and summer, but when the long winter came with its wind and snow, it was often bleak and dismal in the lonely mountain passes. But Mary was used to it and from her earliest years she had learned to brave the cold, the wind and the snow. She was tall strong for her age and her rosy cheecks showed that she was enjoying good health. One day when she and her mothgr were alone at home, her mother was taken sick and she had no medicine left. “If I only had some of the medicine that I got from Mrs. Fenton when I was sick last spring,” she sald. “That medicine dia me so much good, and I know that it will help me now.” “Do you think that Mrs. Fenton has any pf it left?' asked Mary. “Yes, for she gave me only & part of what she had and no one around has Years, By ars, 2112 d Side. dreaming Lo- in volce. me an and Swedeburg, father and and May is Gay With Flow~ ers, Birds, Trees. Original Poem, by Frances Johnson, Aged 13 Years, 933 North Twenty- fifth Avenue, Omaha. Blue Sidc May, the foyous month's May! All the meadow blooms bouquet— Yon quiet woods with bird choir is g here, Merry like one big ay It's time for Miss Lilac her plumes to display; Sun, smile on, let the sky be not grey @athering the flowers for May bas bright; Ah! and hearing Jenny Wren sing from morning to night; Yes, don't forget brave woodpecker who's tapping with all of his might. “Wake up!” winds are pleading to the belated flowers! “It's joy to live in hours. There's verdure abounding on treetop and ground, Here and there flowery faces brighten some mound. these sunshiny Fragrant flowers beneath, Lilles, tullps and fair bridal wreath, On sunny lawns and quiet haunts Winsome dandellon her yellow flaunts, Bach flower nods, and the sweet May rose Rocks to and fro while Bnowdrops snows. dance my window in sweet repose melted with the April Blue:bird, grosbeak, robin I'm very glad to hear you a Rose-breasted grosbeak, thou best friend; Do you object that to me you your Bweet voice would lend? The trees bow gracefully to the wind of the West, Rising up tower-like o'er steeple and crest, Bveryone ‘seems to murmur, “We think each month best, Except merry May, which s worth all of the rest.” and wren, al art my been sick since, and I know she has it all left.” “Then 1 will go and get it for you," eald Mary and started at once to put on her wraps. “But are you not afrald to go 80 far all alone across the lonely moun- tains? Are you sure you know the way?" “Yes, I know the way all right,” and I am not at all afrald. Why, it was a great deal deal worse to go to irs, Parson's last week. I had only gone that way once before and 1 got home all right”” Tha g00d mother knew how good and bright her little girl was and she finally let her go. But if she could have gotten up and gone and felt how cold the wind blew over the bleak mountain and how dark and heavy the snow clouds gathered in the horizon she would not have let her child £0. In her excitement to go on such an errand Mary did not notice the snow- clouds either nor feel the plercing wind. But it was not long befpre Mary was ready to start from Mrs, Fenton's on her way home that the storm came on. The snow filled the air like a thick cloud ail around so that Mary could only see a few feet ahead of her. The wind blew the snow Into big drifts, and here and thero she could hardly get over some of the big drifts. She roon lost her way for all directions were the ne to her now. She was frightened and began to run this way and that way to find the path and got further and further away from home, At last she sat down to rest a moment and to think what she should do. She soon fell asleep and she dreamed that she was sitting in the midst of roses and the sun was shining on her. Soon her father came home from a hunting expedition and when he heard that little Mary was out In this terrible storm he grew very anxlous. And although it was hard to leave the sick mother he hastened away to seek his lost child. He whistled for his dog, the wise and faithful Ponto, and showed him one of Mary's mittens. Tha dog at once understood what was wanted of him and he was as eager as his master to start on the search. The search was long and for a while seemed hopeless. The unhappy father was about to give up his hunting when he thought he heard in the distance the friendly bark of his faithful Ponto. Yes, he was not mistaken. Ho hurried in the direction of the dog's bark. He soon reached the place and found his daughter lying in the snow-drift almost covered with snow. The father tpok her in nis arms and wrapped a blanket, which he had taken along with him, and then in his strong arms he carried her home, following the lead of Pontp. As s0on as he reached home her father began to rub her hands and face with o take out the frost and to restore culation of the blood. Mary soon opened her eyes and looked around her to seo whether it was a dream. But she soon felt the Avarm touch of Ponto's tongue lUcking her hand and then she knew It was no dream. Her first words were, “Mamma, the bottle of medicine is in my pocket.” The medicine at once helped her mother and in a little while Mary was herself again and as well and strong as ever. But the greatest hero of all was the faithful Ponto who had found her and saved her life. snow the eir-