The Pansy, November 1887

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FACE, HANDS, FEET,
and all their flaws, including Facial Development, Hair and Scalp, Unwanted Hair, Birthmarks, Moles, Warts, Age Spots, Freckles, Red Nose, Acne, Blackheads, Scars, Pitting and their treatment. Send 10 cents for a 50-page book, 4th edition. Dr. John H. Woodbury, 37 North Pearl St., Albany, N. Y. Established 1870.

In every home, outdated and worn jewelry and silverware pile up, becoming “bait” for burglars or petty thieves.

If the readers of Babyland can dig out their old gold, silver, and jewelry and send it to me by mail or express, I will promptly send them a certified check for the full value in return.

We guarantee that these Dyes will color more items, package for package, than any other Dyes ever made, and provide more vibrant and long-lasting colors.

For decorating fancy baskets, frames, lamps, chandeliers, and all types of ornamental work. Just as good as the expensive options and only 10 cents per package. Also available is Artists’ Black for ebonizing.

Sold by drugstores everywhere. Send a postcard for a sample card and instructions for coloring photographs and doing crafts.

Soft, flexible, and completely unbreakable. Standard quality, 15 cents per yard. Cloth-covered, 20 cents. Satin-covered, 25 cents. Available everywhere. Give it a try.

[1a]

Farm-Life for Young People, by Ik Marvel (Donald G. Mitchell), Out-of-Door Papers by John Burroughs, along with Walking, Rowing, and The Training of Dogs, three essays by Louise Imogen Guiney, will create an enjoyable aspect of the upcoming volume.

A Painter of Child-Life. (First Art Paper.) A beautiful art publication for kids, by the English art writer, T. Letherbrow, about the English painter, Warwick Brookes, who was once a little “tear-boy” in the Manchester cotton mills and later became a highly respected artist. This impressive piece will feature twenty stunning illustrations of childhood from photographs of the artist’s paintings and drawings.

Daniel Webster in New Hampshire. (First Historical Article.) Memories, stories, and chatter about the great statesman, shared with the author, Miss Amanda B. Harris, by Webster’s old friends and neighbors in New Hampshire, or collected from unpublished letters. With portraits from life-photographs, and many sketches.

About Rosa Bonheur. (Second Art Paper.) This delightful story of the incredible French woman who has created the best animal paintings since Landseer has been written for Wide Awake by Rosa Bonheur’s longtime friend, American artist Henry Bacon. The image of her in her studio attire while painting the famous “Head of a Lion” was illustrated by Mr. Bacon; the portrait of her at eighteen is based on a painting by her brother, Auguste Bonheur. It's filled with anecdotes and includes many pictures.

The Story of Boston Common, by Edward Everett Hale, is now finished in manuscript, and the long-awaited series, covering a lot of early American history, will be released in three or more chapters, featuring both historic and modern pictures, during the upcoming summer.[3a]

The Medal Children of the Renaissance. (Third Art Paper.) An art article for young readers by Frances H. Throop about some noble children from the fifteenth century, whose portraits were sculpted or made into medallions; these beautiful medals are kept in European museums and collections, cherished as valuable art treasures; and Miss Throop has created casts and drawings from the originals to accompany her paper.

An Old House on Royal Street. (Second Historical Article.) This charming article about old New Orleans and early Louisiana by Mrs. M. E. M. Davis (author of In War-Times at La Rose Blanche), written in the historic house that served as General Jackson’s headquarters, is filled with memories of Indian, French, Spanish, and Creole days, featuring figures like Jackson, Galvez, the pirate Lafitte, Bienville, Pere Antoine, Don Almonaster, and other notable people from the Southwest. It’s rich in portraits.

Elbridge S. Brooks will write a series of practical articles for young people, offering suggestions that will help them as they strive to succeed in life. These articles will be different from the usual “Letters to Young Men.” Instead, they will focus on appreciation and camaraderie, aiming to highlight and explore the opportunities available to the boys and girls of America during these busy times as we move into the twentieth century.

For Business Boys will feature concise, memorable, inspiring words, directly from man to boy, as expressed by a man whose business writing is more famous than his name—a companion piece to Mr. Brooks’ series.[4a]

Among Sir Walter Ralegh’s Homes. (Third Historical Article.) Sir Walter is everyone's hero, and Mrs. Raymond Blathwayt has written a delightful piece about his birthplace and his early years. She has also provided many stunning photographs of his former hangouts specifically for Wide Awake; the manuscript has been prepared with the helpful guidance of Dr. Brushfield, the English antiquarian and renowned Ralegh expert.

Typical Children of England, by Julia Cartwright, will be a remarkable article, featuring delightful images of English children today, all based on real-life studies—the aristocratic type, the peasant type, the athletic, the spiritual, and more.

Brilliant additions to the earlier series and specialties will include ballads, poems, and the following

Further articles on Famous Pets are in the works; Tangles will introduce new elements; The Contributors and the Children, along with other sections, will become more engaging; the artistic features will keep delighting both young and old.

[5a]

The twelve issues of Babyland for 1888 will be like twelve Christmas stockings filled with treats—the best nuts, candies, and raisins from jingledom and storyland; plus, there will be three extra big delicious bon-bons.

Babyland will be packed with bright, beautiful images—some big and stunning, others small and humorous. It will be printed in bold, easy-to-read black letters on high-quality paper, featuring attractive pink covers. Available by mail for just 50 cents a year.

This magazine for young readers will be even more entertaining with its text and images than before, and the stories will include some hidden wisdom too. There will be seventy-five full-page pictures.

Besides these serials and series, there will be a collection of short stories and poems, vibrant and engaging, and packed with illustrations like a Christmas pudding filled with plums. The best magazine for home and school reading. $1.00 a year by mail.

[6a]

By Charles Talbot. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.

An adventure of a sharp young guy who signed up for a yachting trip during vacation.

The story isn't about whether it's worth it to know your job, do it well, and "be," as the saying goes, "a gentleman"; however, if the reader wants to think about those things, there is plenty to inspire him.

By Elbridge S. Brooks, author of The American Indian, In Leisler’s Times, In No-Man’s Land, and more. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.

An interesting story linked to a holiday in every month of the year.

There’s the snapdragon Christmas fight between James I of England and his sons over the release of Sir Walter Raleigh; a New Year’s meeting of Margery More with Henry VIII; how William Penn got his motto “Be true, be loyal, be constant” on Valentine’s Day; how the Earl of Kildare celebrated St. Patrick’s; the wise men of Gotham tricking King John on April Fool’s Day; and so on through the months.

These stories from history bring one back to the times they depict.

By Mrs. G.R. Alden (Pansy, author of the hundred Pansy books and editor of The Pansy magazine). 12mo, cloth, $1.50.

12 mo, cloth, illustrated, each, $1.25.

3 vols., 12mo, each $1.25.

[7a]

18 volumes, small format, cloth, $1.50.

Take these four:

To look back on their lives and work and capture the essence of both in 300 or 400 pages of simple text reflects the basics of biography; which is all most of us have the time to read; and the rest are thankful for the basics before they get to the more detailed version.

The other fourteen:

Edited by Pansy. First and second series, 4to, boards, each $0.75.

First and second series. Edited by Pansy. 4to, boards, each $0.75.

By Anna F. Burnham. 4to, boards, $0.75.

By Anna F. Burnham. 4to, boards $0.75.

By Margaret Sidney. Illustrated, 12mo, cloth, $1.50.

By Margaret Sidney. Illustrated, 16mo, cloth, $1.00.

By Margaret Sidney. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.

Square 8vo, boards, colored edges, $1.50; cloth, gold edges, $2.25.

4to, boards, $1.50; cloth, $2.25.

4to, boards, $1.50; cloth, $2.25.

4to, boards, gilt edges, $1.50; cloth, $2.25. By John Greenleaf Whittier.

[8a]

4 vols, 12mo, cloth, each, $1.00.

By Abel B. Berry. A historical story from New Hampshire about Native American times.

By Belle C. Greene. A story about family life in a remote part of New Hampshire, Sherburne “Holler,” where people can sometimes feel out of place compared to their surroundings.

For kids, and for those who care about kids. From the German of Madame Spyri by Lucy Wheelock. Five charming stories about life today in Switzerland.

A story for kids and anyone who loves kids. From the German of Madame Spyri by Lucy Wheelock. The nice and not-so-nice people and situations somehow come together naturally to create a little piece of paradise, the joy of which doesn’t rely on random surroundings but on the kindness of the heart.

Three informative and engaging books by Mrs. A. E. Anderson-Maskell. 12mo, cloth, each 1.00.

4 volumes, 16mo, $3.00.

What a wise doctor said to a fragile young girl and her mom together, and what the gym is good for.

Three graduation sermons.

A skilled person's series of discussions on crises. A lot in a small book.

Eighty-three successful men share their thoughts on how to achieve success and avoid failure. With these insights, the author has created this book—a small book packed with valuable information.

Two charming Swiss stories. Madame Spyri.

A brief guide on the hygiene of alcohol.

[1]

[2]

I HAVE to start the story for you, or you won't get it. The twelve girls in Mr. Shepard's Bible class were almost the same age; they were classmates in school during the week as well as on Sundays, and they were very fond of each other.

They lived in different parts of the country, but they came together in Clayville at boarding school.

It happened that in the year I’m writing about, they were going to be widely separated; only one would return to school in the fall. Because of this, the idea emerged that sparked my story. On the last Sunday before they parted ways, Mr. Shepard gave each of them a small book of texts; one for each week, suggesting that he hoped they would live by those words in the coming year.

This got them thinking and talking. After a lot of discussion, they finally decided that each of them would pick a month to write a letter sharing an experience related to one of the verses for that month. They would mail these letters to each other until everyone had read them; and since I'm good friends with several of the girls, I get the chance to read them and make a copy for you, my Blossoms.

Cora Stevens had the month of November, and without any further introduction, here’s her letter:

THERE are four of us young people at home: first is me, who is sixteen, then there is a big gap, and next comes Katie, who is eight, and Bessie, who is six, and lastly baby Harry, who isn't yet two. But we were all a year younger when what I’m about to tell you happened, because that was a year ago.

I referred to Katie, Bessie, Harry, and myself as the young people, since I feel a bit too old to be called a child, and I wasn’t sure how else to say it. However, I don’t mean to imply that my parents are old. It’s true that my dad has a lot of gray streaks in his hair, but I think that’s more due to stress than age.

It makes me sad, really sad, to see Dad's hair changing color; but when I mention it, he just laughs and says, “The gray hairs are taking over, and the originals are becoming extinct.”

Father and mother haven't seemed like themselves since the summer mom was so sick. That was the worst time of my life, I'm sure. For a long time, we thought she wouldn’t recover. She was sick, of course, at first, and then the cost of having a doctor and nurse weighed on her mind and made things worse. I really think mom cared about that more than the pain she felt! At one point, she got so anxious about it that she said Dr. May’s visits did her more harm than good and insisted she wouldn’t see him again; but Dr. Armstrong, our minister, happened to come by just then, and he quickly talked her out of that and helped her see things differently.

There couldn’t possibly be a nicer minister than Dr. Armstrong—I can’t express how much I love him; better than anyone else in the world, outside of home, except for my dear friend, Miss Judith Hepburn. Miss Judith lives next door to us; she is elderly and very poor; she has nothing in the world except the house she lives in, so she only occupies one of the rooms on the first floor and relies on the rent from the others. But Miss Judith is as happy as if she had everything this world has to offer, and even happier, to be honest, because she is such a genuinely good Christian. “Whatever happens is for the best,” she says, “whether it comes as prosperity or adversity, because everything is given to us by a loving Hand.”

I forgot to mention that my name is Annie—Annie Gray—but Miss Judith only ever calls me "Martha." She started that when my mom was sick, probably because I was always so busy, and maybe also because I was "worried about a lot of things," which I really was during her illness, and for a long while after. The debt we owed to the doctor and nurse hung over our home like a dark cloud. It’s different for some people, but to us, debt has always felt like a serious problem. I think my dad has feared it almost more than anything else, and until my mom got sick, he’d always steered clear of it. But the costs that come with illness are huge and can't be easily ignored.

Ah! how often I have heard my dad say: “Don’t owe anyone anything,” and then he would always add, “I can’t say if this is a Divine command,[6] or just friendly advice, but either way, I won’t ignore it.”

Well, it was pretty funny, but shortly after my mom got sick, Dr. Armstrong started his Friday evening lectures for the congregation “On Secular Matters,” as he mentioned in his notice. Dad took me to the first one, and I couldn’t help but squeeze his hand when he announced the topic, “Debts: How They are Made, and How They May be Paid.” I can’t remember his exact words, which is a shame, but Dr. Armstrong’s words and thoughts were powerful. I know the gist was that debts usually start small, little by little, and they add up until we receive a bill that's so massive we feel hopeless about ever paying it off. “But I hope,” he added, “that none of my friends in this unfortunate situation will feel discouraged for even a second. We got into this mess step by step; let’s find our way out the same way, step by step. Starting now, create a smart budget; save up small amounts, no matter how insignificant, to pay off your debt, and little by little, it will disappear until, almost without you noticing, it’s gone, and you, once again a free person, ‘can look the whole world in the face.’”

“Wow, that was really useful! That’s exactly what I needed!” said Dad as we walked out after the lecture ended. “And I, for one, won’t be the type to ‘agree with the idea and then do the opposite.’ No; starting right now, I’m going to start saving and cutting back. Ah, Annie, ‘a timely word,’ how great it is! I was almost ready to lose hope until now.”

And that was the start of our savings. First, we gave up coffee; mom always drank tea, so it only bothered dad. Then we cut out butter and started buying the cheapest meat and vegetables at the market. Mom figured there were a lot of unnecessary things in our clothes, and Katie joked that soon mom would think we could do without buttons on our dresses. But the best part of my day during all this stressful time was twilight when there was no work for me, and I could run in and sit by Miss Judith’s cozy little fire and chat with her. One evening, after Miss Judith’s usual greeting of, “Well, Martha, how’s the work going today?” I said, “Honestly, Miss Judith, I wish I wasn’t such a ‘Martha’ and could ‘choose the better part’ like Mary. But what can I do? Wouldn't it be wrong to burden mom when she’s not feeling strong? Don’t you think our Savior would agree? Plus, mom has to be a ‘Martha’ because the work needs to get done. It’s all pretty confusing for me, anyway.”

“I’m not surprised you say that, dear,” said Miss Judith. “Older minds than yours have pondered the same question, and it’s clear that if it weren’t for the ‘Marthas’ in the world, society would come to a standstill. But, Annie, we’re told that Martha was ‘cumbered with serving’; she let her work take over her focus, pushing aside other, more important things. We don’t have to do that, do we? Doesn’t each of us, even the busiest among us, have enough time to dedicate our work to God in prayer, asking for His blessing and help in it? Then, my child,” she continued, “consider the words of our Savior, ‘Mary has chosen the better part’; that’s better than Martha, but maybe there’s a ‘better part’ still, or the best part, where work and worship are combined, so that while we’re ‘not slothful in business,’ we’re also ‘fervent in spirit serving the Lord.’ To me, this seems like the best part, and the best example is the blessed Savior Himself, who ‘came not to be served, but to serve,’ who ‘went about doing good,’ and ‘followed days of labor with nights of prayer.’ Yes, my dear, the need to serve is clearly laid upon you, and you don’t get to choose your role in life, but how you play your part is up to you. Don’t forget, dear child, that you ‘serve the Lord Christ,’ and ‘whatever you do, do it heartily as unto Him.’ He’s taken a journey to a far country now, but He will come back to check on your work; be faithful, dear Annie, and stay on guard and pray.”

That little chat with Miss Judith really helped me out. My conversations with her always do, and Mom says she brings her a lot of comfort because she shows how helpful you can be just by offering sympathy and advice. Dad says there’s a healing and uplifting quality in her words that’s way more valuable than money because it helps you “get back on your feet” when life gets tough.

The kids really handled the tough times we went through well, but Katie told me quietly one night, “I’ve never wanted something good to eat as much in my life. I’m really glad Thanksgiving Day is so close.” But when the day before Thanksgiving came, and Mom asked if I should get anything special for dinner the next day, Dad shook his head with such a firm “no” that there was nothing more to discuss, but it was definitely a change; we had never experienced a Thanksgiving without turkey and pudding. I felt really sad, though, thinking about not having my usual gift for Miss Judith. Every year, I always brought her dinner, along with a five-dollar bill on the tray; but as I went upstairs that night, Dad slipped five dollars into my hand, saying, “This is for Miss Judith, Annie. We must not forget, in our efforts to cut back, the debt we owe our Heavenly Father.”

That was enough to put me in the right mindset for the next day, even if I didn't already have plenty to be grateful for. I had completely decided that Mom was going to church, and I would take care of Harry, but it took a lot of convincing to get her on board. In the end, I managed it, and after everyone left and I had cleaned up the breakfast dishes, little Harry started showing signs of sleepiness, so I tucked him into his little cradle and began rocking him back and forth, singing one of Miss Judith's favorite hymns the whole time:—

Over and over I sang it, until finally the white eyelids closed, and I was quietly getting up to slip away when ding-dong! went the doorbell, with a sound that echoed through the house, causing Harry to stir and then open his blue eyes wide. I had to calm him down again before I answered the bell. When I finally went downstairs, surprise! There was no one in sight: just a hamper basket covered with a white cloth and a note pinned on top that read: “For Mr. Gray; from a friend.”

It took everything I had to get the basket into the kitchen, and then, wow! The delicious things that greeted me! First, a turkey already dressed, then a roll of golden butter, several jars of sausage meat and jelly, a bunch of celery, and finally, a huge iced cake. That seemed to wrap up the contents, but wait; as I lifted the bottom cloth, I found a sealed envelope addressed to my dad, just like the basket had been. I set it aside for him to open later, but I was confused about what to do with the other items. They were clearly meant for Dad’s Thanksgiving dinner, I thought, but if I didn’t roast the turkey right away, it wouldn’t be ready in time. Should I or shouldn’t I? I asked myself. Then I remembered how weak my poor mom looked when she left; how she worried that the services would be too much for her. Yes, I decided, a warm, hearty dinner will be exactly what she needs, so without further delay, I got to work. The baby (bless his little heart!) was really good and let me get well “under way” before he woke up. There was no way to keep dinner a secret, though, once the front door opened, because the delicious smell of the roasting turkey gave it all away, and everyone rushed into the kitchen to see what was going on.

“O, Dad!” I said, when the excitement over the first part of my story had calmed down enough for me to say something, “there was a letter for you in the basket, too.”

“This will tell us who the donor is,” he said as he opened it. But no, there was no name inside, just some notes neatly folded. “Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five dollars,” said Dad, counting them out on the table. “Thank God for all His mercies,[8] and may God bless the giver!” he said earnestly, while Mom turned away to prepare Miss Judith’s dinner and hide her tears, because poor Mom was actually crying.

“Here, take this too, Annie,” said Dad, adding another five to the one already on the waiter, just as it was ready for me to take. Of course, I had to pause and share the great news with Miss Judith about the basket, and when I returned, Mom was setting the last dish on the table. Then, as we took our places, we stood with our heads down while Dad said the grace I had always known, but it felt like it took on new meaning and beauty—

“Meet the needs of others, Lord, and give us thankful hearts, for Christ’s sake.”

We never figured out the secret of that Thanksgiving basket, nor did we ever ask about it, but we all thought that Dr. Armstrong could have clarified the matter if he had wanted to.

[9]

[10]

MARGARET threw an old shawl over her head and went out the side door. It had been a tough day. Weston was really upset and made her run a ton of errands for him, some of which weren't even needed.

This was also the first day of the fall school term, and Margaret really wanted to get to school early to snag her old seat since she had heard that Helen Marcy was planning to grab it first. She nearly forgot her new resolutions that morning when her stepmother told her she needed to stay home and help her.

As tears filled Margaret's eyes, Mrs. Moore said, “Now’s a good time to show your faith. A girl who’s joined the church shouldn’t be sulking all day just because she’s been asked to do a little work; especially when she’s been lounging around at the beach.”

It was all true, Margaret knew it, but it felt so wrong of her to say it. It had been so hard to deal with.

After having tea, she walked down to the gate and stood gazing out into the darkness.

It was a tough life, as bleak and unappealing as that dark autumn evening.

She looked back at the house. There was Johnnie bent over his books, the gaslight above him making him stand out against the dark room. Naughty Johnnie! He had teased her every time he got close that day! No one really cared for her. She stared down the street. Here and there, a light shone. Across the way, there was a bright fire in the fireplace, and the family seemed to be having a great time, sitting around the table, sewing, reading, laughing, and talking. The little girl was sitting in her father’s lap. How Margaret wished for such a nice evening in their home. She turned back to the house. Her father and Mr. Wakefield, the minister, had left just after dinner, and Mrs. Moore had gone to her room right after the dishes were done. The house was all dark except for Johnnie’s gaslight. It was just unbearable. No other girl in the world had such a tough situation. It couldn’t possibly be any worse.

Yes, she actually believed that, this poor silly little girl.

But she didn’t completely forget her Heavenly Father. She suddenly remembered, with a rush of joy, that she belonged to the rich King of all the earth. He could help her. She would ask Him.

Down went her head on the gatepost, and she told her Father in Heaven all about it, and how she just couldn't take it anymore.

Then she lifted her head with a confident feeling that everything would be okay now and started thinking of different ways her prayer could be answered.

She didn’t really want her stepmother to die! She was pretty shocked by the idea. That was a really wrong thought for a Christian girl to have.

Poor little Margaret! She thought she loved Jesus and was doing her best to serve him, but she still needed to learn the command: “Honor your father and your mother.”

Shoving that annoying thought aside, she moved on. How could everything change? Maybe a wealthy, unknown relative of her mom would pass away and leave her a huge inheritance as her mom’s only daughter. Then what would she do? She would give her dad enough so he wouldn’t have to work anymore. She would—yes, she would show a very generous spirit toward Mrs. Moore. She’d redecorate the house, hire several servants for her, and give her enough to buy beautiful clothes. The boys would go to college, and she—she would go off to boarding school and study as much as she wanted, never having to stay home and wash dishes. She’d have plenty of money to give away. She’d buy lots of flowers to give to poor sick people. Her room would be beautifully furnished, and she’d invite all the less fortunate girls from school over and treat them to nice times.

[11]

She was just treating those imaginary girls to chocolate creams and marshmallow drops when she heard her dad walking quickly down the street, his voice calling out, “Margaret, you shouldn’t be out in this chilly night air.” She then turned and followed him into the house. She had to pause her daydreaming for a bit to help Johnnie with his math lesson, but she promised herself there would be more castle-building in her own room before she went to sleep.

But right now her father called her. “Margaret,” he said, “I have a letter here from your Aunt Cornelia. She wants you to come and spend the winter with her and go to school. Would you like to go?”

Margaret’s heart leaped with joy. Not just because she was going to Aunt Cornelia's, but also because she felt a sense of triumph that her prayer had been answered, and so quickly. She decided confidently that she would always pray for everything. Poor girl! She believed her faith was very strong.

It was pretty dark in the room, and Margaret couldn’t see her dad’s face as he said this, but his voice was very kind. The door to the hall was partly open, and the beam of light coming from it fell on the sofa, revealing the faint shape of Mrs. Moore lying there with her head wrapped in a handkerchief. A slight smell of camphor and vinegar filled the room, and Margaret felt guilty as she recalled her harsh thoughts by the gate. Maybe Mrs. Moore had been suffering all day from a bad headache, which is why she seemed so stern. The little girl’s heart softened, and she decided she would pray for the headache to go away, though she ended up forgetting to do it. You have to keep in mind how full her heart was of excitement, and feel for this poor young Christian.

It was all decided that evening that she would leave in a week, so she went up to her room to write a thank-you letter to dear Aunt Cornelia, and then went to bed to dream about her new life.

How simple it would be to be a Christian living with Aunt Cornelia, she thought while getting dressed the next morning. God must have noticed how completely impossible it was for her to truly serve Him here at home, and so He arranged this for her. But her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door, and Johnnie called out:

“Hey, Mag, she’s sick, and Dad’s gone to get the doctor, and he said you need to come and have some breakfast, and West is in a bad mood, and it’s pouring rain, and the wood is all wet, and I can’t get the fire to start. Can’t you come quickly?”

Had Margaret known all the challenges that awaited her that day, she would have taken a moment, in that brief pause between her bright hopes from the night before and the uncertain future, to ask her Heavenly Father for the strength to face what was coming. But she didn't. Maybe it was some premonition of trouble that prompted her to reach out and tuck the letter she had written into her upper bureau drawer. Then she hurried downstairs. Despair hung in the air. Johnnie’s books and slate were scattered across the dining-room table, just as he had left them the night before. Weston had added to the mess by spending his evening cutting out bits from various newspapers for his scrapbook, leaving little white snippets all over the floor. Margaret remembered that the dining-room usually looked nice when she came down in the morning. It really made a difference to have a mother around, even if she was only a step-mother.

Out in the kitchen, Johnnie was banging on the stove, and smoke was billowing out of every crack.

It was late that morning before the new minister had his breakfast, and the steak was smoky and the coffee looked murky, but he smiled warmly at Margaret’s flushed face and told her that she did a great job for her first try.

While they were having breakfast, Mr. Moore walked in with the doctor.

They went straight upstairs, but soon came back down again, the doctor pulling out his medicine case and asking for glasses and water. Mr. Moore looked anxious and worried. Margaret tried to catch the doctor’s answers to her father’s troubled questions, but she only heard bits and pieces:

“Inflammatory rheumatism.” “The system is completely worn out.” “Take a break for several months.”

These were the snippets of conversation that drifted to Margaret through the open kitchen door, as she[12] stood by the faucet filling a glass of water for the doctor. The rest of the words were drowned out by the sound of the running water, but Margaret could easily picture it, and her heart stopped.

She understood that this meant many things that the doctor didn’t say.

It meant that she couldn't go to Aunt Cornelia’s; that she had to spend the winter at home; that she had to be the one who had to constantly take care of the sick woman. She could already hear the annoyed words she imagined her step-mother would say to her when she didn't do everything perfectly.

Then a strong rebellion sparked in her heart.

“God hasn’t answered my prayer at all,” she said to herself, and the huge disappointment made her hand shake as she set the water pitcher down in front of the doctor.

Mr. Moore didn’t think his little girl had heard the doctor’s words, and he watched her with a troubled sigh as she went back to the kitchen. How should he tell her? Would she throw a fit and cry like she used to do when her wishes were denied? He decided that he wouldn’t tell her that day.

The breakfast dishes were washed, Johnnie was at school, and her father was upstairs. Margaret went to the kitchen to cry and feel sorry for herself. She didn't dare go to her own room for fear of being heard. She felt rebellious, and the more she cried, the more she pitied herself, leading her to cry even more. Mr. Wakefield came to the kitchen to ask for some warm water and found Margaret with her arms on the table and her head resting on her arms, sobbing big, angry, disappointed sobs. He stopped in shock.

“Why, Margaret, what's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“No, there isn’t! God hasn’t answered my prayer! You said he would! Now I’ve got to stay home and take care of her! I don’t believe he heard me at all!”

Margaret shouted this out. She had worked herself into such a state that she hardly knew what she was saying. Was this the gentle, humble Christian he had welcomed into the church just two days ago? This thought crossed the minister’s mind, but he was too wise to say it to the upset girl. He only asked calmly:

“Margaret, does your dad always say ‘yes’ when you ask for something?”

“Why, no; of course not!” she said, surprised.

“And what if you asked for something, and he said no? Would you come and tell me that your dad wouldn’t answer you?”

She didn’t respond this time, and Mr. Wakefield continued:

“Imagine your dad knows that what you’re asking would really hurt you. Would you think he’s being cruel for saying no?”

“But this isn’t harmful! It’s what’s best for me! God wants me to be a Christian, and I can never be one in this house!” she shouted.

“Margaret, who do you think knows better, you who know so little, or God who made you and sees everything that has ever happened or will ever happen in your life? My dear friend, I’m afraid you didn’t pray with the right attitude,”—

“O, yes, I did!” she interrupted excitedly.[13] “I believed. I thought for sure He would give it to me.”

“But believing isn't everything. You forgot to add one small phrase: 'Your will be done.' If you had included it, your prayer would go something like this: 'Our Father, who is in heaven, holy is Your name, Your kingdom come, Margaret Moore’s will be done,'”—

At this, Margaret couldn't help but smile through her tears.

“Your kind Heavenly Father didn’t just give you what you asked for because He knew it wouldn’t be best for you. Maybe He realized that His servant needs to learn to serve Him patiently at home, through challenges, before she can be the right kind of servant in the world. He will answer your prayer in a way different from what you had planned, Margaret. He loves you much more than you love yourself. Can’t you trust Him?”

And then the minister left without his hot water. He went back to his room to pray for the poor troubled disciple downstairs. Margaret sat and thought. She realized just how foolish and wrong she had been. She struggled with her rebellious heart for a long time, kneeling on the bare floor with her head resting on the kitchen table, but she finally conquered it, and the peace of God filled her heart. She was determined to give up her own way and try to follow God’s way. “But, dear Jesus,” she prayed, “I’ll need a lot of help because I can’t do it alone, and I know I’ll cry if they talk too much about Aunt Cornelia.”

Margaret had figured out how to do everything she could on her own and trust Jesus for the rest, surrendering her life, her will, and her entire self to his care.

But she remembered that she had other responsibilities and that her father could come downstairs at any moment, so she hurried to her room to wipe away the traces of her tears.

Halfway down the stairs, she stopped. “Wouldn’t it make Jesus happy if she knocked on Mom’s door and asked if there was anything she could do?”

She quietly walked back and gave a soft knock. Her dad emerged from the dim room, his face so worn that it nearly shocked her. “Dad, please don’t look so anxious. Everything will be fine. I can handle things at home,” she said.

Her father looked at her with a gentle, sad expression.

“Does my little girl know that she can’t go away this winter?”

“Yes, sir; I know. It's fine, Dad.”

Mr. Moore was so amazed and pleased by this new attitude his daughter showed that he could hardly find the words to say anything.

“I’m really sorry, Margaret, but your mom is very ill. She has been under a lot of stress this summer. You’ll need to take care of her and help out around the house. I would hire someone else to do it if I could afford it, but I can't. Your mom’s sister, Amelia, who has been living in Brierly with her brother, will come, I believe, to help out at home, so the minister won’t have to leave, because we need all the money we can get right now to cover the doctor’s bills.”

Margaret's expression changed.

“Do we really need her? Isn’t there someone else we can get?” she said, lowering her voice.

“Not without paying for it,” her father said, sadly.

“Can’t I do the work?” she asked.

“No, Margaret; you’ll have plenty to do taking care of your mother, and,” he added, “I’m afraid you won’t even be able to go to school here at home—for a while, at least. I’m sorry, but I don’t see any other option right now.”

Margaret really felt like crying again, but a look at her father's tired face changed her mind.

“Don’t worry, Dad, I’ll do everything I can and be the best I can.” She wrapped her arms around her dad’s neck and kissed him.

If only she had known how much that kiss reassured her father. He returned to[14] the darkened room with a lifted spirit and a sense that there must be something to religion, since it had transformed Margaret in such a beautiful way.

Margaret took the first free hour she had to write a letter to Aunt Cornelia, explaining how impossible it was for her to visit and expressing how sorry she was. Soon, she received a long, sympathetic, and helpful reply, along with a little book covered in green and silver. “To help you when you feel discouraged,” the good aunt wrote.

On the first page Margaret opened, her eyes landed on these words:

And they hummed a little song in her heart as she thought about everything she would have to endure that long winter.

IT was a warm, sunny Sunday morning, and so Robbie Ellsworth was allowed to go to church. This was a real treat for him, as he had just recently recovered from the measles, and his mother was a bit worried about him going.

The notices had all been distributed, or so everyone believed, when the minister announced that there would be a meeting for the congregation the next day to raise funds for a new church. They recognized that the current building was way too small, and he was hopeful they could get a new one underway soon, as a lot had been donated in a great location.

Then came the sermon. It was about small things. Robbie listened closely as the minister shared how many great things had been started and supported by little boys and girls, and by people with limited money or talent.

At the dinner table, Robbie’s father said, “How eager Dr. Sullivan is for a new church! But he won’t get it—not anytime soon, anyway. The people just don’t care enough about it, though I’m sure they really need one.”

“Wow!” Robbie thought to himself, “I really wish Dr. Sullivan could get the new church. He definitely deserves it if he wants it.”

“He wants a brick one,” Mr. Ellsworth continued, “but I think a frame building would work this time. Brick is too expensive.”

“I wish he could have a brick church,” thought Robbie. “That would be so much nicer.”

Then he started thinking about what Dr. Sullivan said in his sermon, and before long, he began to wonder if he could contribute to the new church. He spent the whole afternoon contemplating it, and eventually, a plan formed in his mind that he thought about so much that he could hardly sleep that night. But he didn’t want anyone to know anything about it, so he fell asleep as quickly as he could.

Fortunately for his plans, Monday was just as nice as Sunday, and around ten o’clock, Robbie went to see Mrs. Ellsworth.

“Mama, I want to go for a walk,” he said.

“Why, Robbie dear, you’d get lost.”

“But I just want to go over to Uncle Will’s,” the little guy pleaded.

Now Uncle Will was a doctor, a big favorite with his little nephew, and he lived just around the corner, in the new house that he had just built.

“I think you can go now,” said Mrs. Ellsworth, “since you don’t have to cross the street to get there. I’m heading down to Dad’s office and will ask him to pick you up when he gets home.”

“No, Mom,” said Robbie, “I’d rather not. I have a really good reason for wanting to come home by myself.”

That was his way of saying he had a really good, and in his mind, important reason that he didn’t want to share. So his mom agreed, kissed him goodbye, and he set out, first grabbing his little green wheelbarrow from the hall closet.

He walked slowly down one street, up another, until he stopped on the stone steps of "Uncle Will’s house" and pulled the doorbell with a force that only a boy of Robbie’s size knows how to.

Aunt Flora warmly welcomed her little visitor, laughing at his wheelbarrow, but he walked right past her and headed into Uncle Will’s office, pushing his wheelbarrow in front of him. Uncle Will was busy talking about the cholera germ with a fellow doctor, but he turned and greeted his nephew happily:

“Well, my guy! What can I do for you today? Can you take a wheelbarrow of books to the library for me?”

“Mama wouldn’t let me,” said Robbie. “I came to see if you would let me have one wheelbarrow full of the leftover bricks—out in the backyard.”

“Sure,” said Uncle Will. “You can just go out and get them.”

So Robbie turned around again, too excited to even thank his uncle, pushed his wheelbarrow through the dining room, and was soon pulling bricks from the pile by the back steps.

His cart only carried about six people, and soon Irish Mary was lifting it up the steps, and he arrived again in front of his uncle’s door.

"Are they really mine, Uncle Will?" he asked as his uncle turned to look at his load. "Can I use them however I want?"

“Your very own,” said the doctor, “to do what you want with. If you’d like, you can throw them in the cistern. But what are they for?”

“I'd rather not say, Uncle Will.”

“Alright, sir. Good luck with your project, whatever it may be.”

Down the steps bumped the wheelbarrow, with its owner behind, and down the street they went again, though this time on the other side of the block. There weren't many people on the street, but the few Robbie encountered smiled at him and his load of bricks. He looked at all the houses carefully, and finally climbed the steps of one with some difficulty, all the while worried that his bricks would fall out, and rang the bell a little more gently than he had at his uncle’s.

The Rev. Dr. Sullivan answered the door. He recognized Robbie. “Good morning, young man!” he said. “How can I help you?”

“Nothing,” said Robbie. “I’ve brought you the first load of bricks for the new church.”

“The new church!” said the doctor.

“Yes, sir. You said yesterday you wanted one, and Dad said you wanted a brick one. So I’ve brought the first load. They’re my very own, sir, to use however I want.”

“Well, well!” said Dr. Sullivan, “I really appreciate it,” and Robbie thought his voice sounded almost like his did when he had croup. Besides that, he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes. Then he picked up the wheelbarrow, dumped the contents in his backyard, and brought it back to the owner. “The bricks will be used, young man,” he said, “every single one of them, for the new church. Thanks a lot for your help.”

Then Robbie came home, excited about having been able to help his minister.

As for the minister, he took a piece of paper and went outside. The first person he encountered was Mr. Lawrence, the richest individual in his church.

“Mr. Lawrence,” he said, “we've started, and the first load of bricks for the new church has arrived.”

“Absolutely!” said Mr. Lawrence, and after chatting a bit more, he signed his name for quite a hefty donation. Dr. Sullivan continued to inform everyone that the first load of bricks had arrived, and it was amazing how uplifting those bricks were! When the congregation gathered that afternoon, their pastor announced that nearly a hundred dollars had been raised for the church, and that the first load of bricks had arrived.

Of course, it took quite a while before the church was actually built since there were architects, masons, and carpenters to consult; but it got built, and it was only then that the minister revealed who provided “the first load of bricks” and how he truly kickstarted the whole project.

And the six bricks that Robbie had brought in his little wheelbarrow were used to build the wall of the church, and everyone thanked him for his contribution to the work.

Now the best thing about this story is that it’s all true. The minister’s name might not have been Dr. Sullivan, and the boy’s name might not have been Robbie Ellsworth, and his wheelbarrow may not have been green, but it carried the bricks that are in the “Brick Church,” as it’s called, of one of the largest cities in the Eastern States.

[16]

[17]

FROM the far corner of the fence, one end tied to a nearby bush, hung a spider’s silk web, perfectly shaped as if it followed geometrical rules. In the center sat a decent-sized spider, the owner, who had just finished eating most of an unsuspecting fly, whose lifeless remains were beside her. Two ants approached the spider—Zed and Zoo.

“Excuse me,” said the spider, looking at them suspiciously, “for having any doubts about the safety of getting to know you. But you've just been talking to my biggest enemy, the wasp, and have been watching with cold interest as one of my family was destroyed. I really hope you don’t have any personal plans against me. The wasp is a very bold opponent, so I worry about you, even though you’re so small.”

“I promise you,” Zed replied, “that our curiosity about the wasp’s actions was completely out of ignorance. We’re not her friends, nor do we have any plans against you.”

“Sure thing,” replied the spider, whose name[18] was Luxz, “I’m really happy. I’m in a pretty good mood this morning because I just enjoyed a delicious fly. I’d offer you some if I hadn’t already eaten it. All spiders love flies. I had a really annoying disappointment yesterday. I was sitting on the window-sill of that house over there and saw a big fly resting on a piece of paper. Naturally, I jumped after it, but there was no fly there! I walked all over that spot, too! One of my neighbors suggested it was just a picture; as if a smart spider couldn’t tell the difference between a picture and a fly!”

The two ants nodded in agreement to this very likely statement.

“You spin a lot, I guess?” asked Zoo.

“O, yes!” said Luxz; “I’m super busy. I can spin fine threads and thicker ones, and dance and swing all around on them. But most of my time is spent working. It takes a lot of effort to make a web, even if you might not think so. There were some boys walking by on their way to school when I had just finished a nice web a while back, and they knocked it all down. I built another, then another, but every time those mischievous kids would destroy it and laugh at my frustration. Eventually, my pockets were completely empty, and I ran out of silk, so I had to go and take over another spider's web for a while. But this one I built myself.”

“You catch a lot of flies?”

“Yes, definitely. They aren’t very smart animals, although sometimes I come across one that I just can’t lure into my web no matter how hard I try. We’re all pretty crafty, but we have to watch out for some of the birds. One morning, a neighbor of mine was swinging happily, and a swallow flew by, who had her nest tucked under the eaves, and—well, that was the end of her. The wasps, as I’ve mentioned before, are really bad news. If one of them gets caught in our webs, we quickly undo the threads and let it go, worrying that if we don’t, we’ll end up worse off.”

“Our threads are really handy,” Luxz continued, after a brief pause, “because we can let one end float out, and they stick to whatever they touch, creating a path for us. I remember that those same boys once put me on a chip in a big tub of water and laughed at my embarrassment. But I handled it well and quickly spun out a thread whose outer end a breeze carried to the side of the tub, and when my tormentors weren’t paying attention, I made my escape along it. We can attach the end of our thread to the top of anything and lower ourselves by spinning out more, or climb up by pulling it in.”

“Do you have any kids?” asked Zed.

“O, yes!” replied Luxz, “I have some that are just hatching. If you go around the corner of that board, you can see the nest—all fuzzy, like cotton. A few are just crawling out. They are still very small.”

Then the ants said goodbye to the spider and went down the fence, pausing to check out the nest where the tiny little spiders were just beginning to take their first few steps among the delicate threads surrounding their eggs. There were so many of them!

A fly was the next insect that caught the attention of our travelers as it hovered over a grease spot on the edge of a board they were walking along. It was just a regular house fly, but since Zed and Zoo weren't very familiar with them, it was as fascinating to them as anything else they had encountered on their journey.

“Good morning,” he buzzed, “I’m looking for something to eat. I’ve just been chased out of that house over there by some huge people with big cloths in their hands. They’ve set up frames in the windows with wire ropes, and I can’t get to that well-stocked table. There’s a guy there with a bald head too—just the spot for a clever fly. But these people really dislike us!”

“Too bad,” Zed said sympathetically; “but if you lazy flies would build your own homes like ants do, and stop going places you’re not wanted, you and others would be much happier.”

“Well,” said the fly thoughtfully, “I don’t see why we shouldn’t. Maybe no fly ever thought of it. It doesn’t seem like it’s meant for us to. I could never work out in the hot sun like you do. People don’t bother us very often—not as much as they’d like to; we have really sharp eyes, and a lot of them. Each of us has hundreds of tiny eyes, and every single one moves and looks in a different way. It’s pretty tricky to sneak up behind us, like the elephant did.”

“How was that?” asked Zoo.

"Don't you know?"

“I’m not sure about the story; it might be taken from the New York paper, but either way, we believe it, and we often laugh at the grasshopper.”

“What do you eat?” Zed asked.

“Almost anything I find. Flies aren’t picky at all. We can enjoy whatever anyone does. Our mouths are like hollow tubes, through which we suck up whatever we want to eat. It’s a really handy way.”

“You have enemies,” Zoo said. “We just visited a spider that's eager for a taste of some of you.”

“You don’t say that!” exclaimed the fly. “She’s not really close by, is she? Those spider webs are a huge pain for us. I’ve had a few friends get trapped and eaten by the spiders. The way they wrap their delicate yet strong threads around you is truly something. I also know a decent verse about them, too:

That’s really pathetic, isn’t it, now?

“Very,” answered Zed and Zoo, together.

“I met a Southern fly once,” continued the talkative fly, “and they have more enemies down there than we do in the North. Take the lizards and chameleons, for example—”

“Oh! we know about them,” shouted the little ants.

“And then the walking sticks,” the fly went on, ignoring the interruption and giving his visitors a stern look; “now, a person up here couldn’t hit one of us with a walking stick even if they tried all day. But it’s a whole different story down there! A walking stick isn’t just something people use to walk; it’s a stick that walks. It’s a really strange insect, and it looks just like a broken twig from a tree, complete with the tiny branches, so much so that even the smartest person can’t tell them apart without seeing them move. Some people call them ‘devil’s walking sticks,’ and we flies think that fits perfectly because they’re terrible for us—that is, for Southern flies. People will place a walking stick in a room full of flies, and before long, it will have killed them all! Just think how awful that is!”

“Do you know any more poetry?” Zed asked, who had a bit of a literary vibe.

“Well, now, I know a really cute little song about a fly, written by some guy who clearly had a baby. I’ll sing it for you.”

And the fly buzzed:

[20]

THE Poplar Street Pansy Society started out with a big membership and all sorts of promising opportunities. The leaders were energetic, motivated young people who were determined to succeed, no matter what. Everything went smoothly during the first year. Meetings were held regularly; almost all the members attended each time, regardless of bad weather or any other party or outing invitations. The members, with very few exceptions, were completely loyal to their society.

This became so well known that, eventually, when events were scheduled at the same time as society meetings, the members were overlooked when invitations were being made. It was often said that you might as well invite the man in the moon as one of the Poplar Street Society members; they wouldn't leave their beloved society to watch the Emperor of China come through the city. Some were harsh enough to say that these Pansies just idolized their society.

In spite of all the outside criticism and mockery, the society continued on its path. Eventually, it became such a force, with so many young people joining, that women wanting to host youth gatherings in their homes had to consider the needs of the Poplar Street Pansy Society.

If there was going to be a meeting of the society at a certain time, especially if it was a public one, everything else had to give way to it. The fathers and mothers would go there, regardless of any other temptations.

Thus, this Poplar Street Society became known as the popular society.

But the Roman Empire had its decline and fall. Why shouldn't this society? Some boys and girls had joined who cared more about status than about growth. They wanted to be well-regarded and to hold positions of power. One time, four of them insisted on being elected president. Naturally, three of the four were upset and said they would step down.

[21]

Some others said they needed to be on the program committee and have the authority to manage things overall, or else they would create a competing society. A few argued that it was time for a change; that the old lineup of singing, recitations, games, etc., was outdated; and that a bit of dancing and card-playing should be included some of the time.

To this, it was replied that the Poplar Street Pansy Society was created for personal and ethical development, not for a dance school or card games; that anyone looking for those activities could find them elsewhere.

Thus, a split occurred. Two groups emerged. The issue was talked about in the classroom and three times a day in more than forty different dining rooms. Many harsh words were exchanged. The meetings sometimes ended in chaos. Then some parents stepped in by not letting their kids participate. The dance and card activities pulled away. Several people who wanted the roles or desired more influence stopped coming. Some had relocated from the city.

So there came a time when very few people showed up to the meeting. The many empty seats made those present feel sad. Then a motion was made to dissolve the society; it was seconded, put to a vote, and lost by just one vote. Then it was decided to appoint a committee to talk with some knowledgeable people and see what could be done, reporting back at the next meeting, or if they thought it was better, to suspend the society until things improved.

The committee was made up of two boys and one girl, the girl being the one whose determination had created the society and kept it together during times when it looked like it was about to fall apart.

She invited her two friends to meet at her dad’s house to figure out the best course of action. In the meantime, she had done a lot of thinking on her own and had talked to her mom for advice.

Things looked pretty bleak for her close-knit group. Her mom even questioned if anything could be done with such strong opposition, and the best she could suggest was to just hold off for now until the dancers and everyone else had their turn to enjoy themselves.

This brave girl had seen too much good in society and craved more too deeply to let it go easily.

She had a close friend to whom she shared all her troubles. She brought this one to him.

The committee gathered—two skeptical boys and one sincere girl—full of belief and intent to support the group. The boys had concluded that it was best to let the society fade away as it was; any further attempts would likely lead to failure and make them a joke—being laughed at was not something they could even consider—unless there was some really positive change in the situation.

Thus the conference opened, two to one against the life of the P. S. P. S., as the society was sometimes called.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” our little heroine said to the two once they were settled and it was time to get down to business. “Things have been really tough for me lately; I’ve been on the verge of tears almost all the time.”

“So have we,” said the boys, “but what’s the point in crying over spilled milk! The society’s pretty much dead. Everyone we’ve talked to says the same thing, and now all that’s left for us is to lay it to rest properly and try something new. I guess you’ve reached that conclusion too, right?”

“No; not me,” was the firm response. “Our society started with one member, and now we have three to rebuild it. I’m sure three is better than one.”

“Don’t know how you come up with three. You can’t rely on us. We see no chance right now and are ready to vote to end the P. S. P. S.”

"I'm not ready."

“But there are two of us to your one, and you know that majorities decide.”

“And you, who have supported the community for so long, are definitely not going to abandon it when it needs you the most?”

“Nothing left to abandon. You see, Jennie, it’s all gone.”

And Jennie’s response was a look of pain. There was silence, then a sigh and a sob that could be heard in the next room, where Jennie’s father and Uncle John were. Uncle John had traveled from a distant town for a visit that would last a few[22] weeks. He cared for the boys and girls, and when he found out that the purpose of the committee meeting was to discuss the future of the Poplar Street Pansy Society, and that Jennie was deeply invested in it, he quietly started thinking of ways to help Jennie, without telling anyone.

So he had heard every word from the little committee members in the next room, and when the crisis hit and poor Jennie was about to be outvoted, he spoke up:

"Hey, Jennie?"

“That’s my Uncle John. I wonder if he’s heard everything we’ve said,” Jennie whispered, quickly using her handkerchief to wipe away the tears that were beginning to fall. He spoke again:

"Jennie?"

"Excuse me?"

“Can’t I talk to your committee?”

“O, yes, Uncle John, please do!” And with those words, the door flew open, and Uncle John was introduced to the two boys.

After some lighthearted comments, the committee was asked to hold off on any decisions for now and to schedule a meeting to discuss the issue again, encouraging as many people as possible to join. Uncle John requested to be there and to share any ideas he might have, confidently nodding his head as he said that the Poplar Street Pansy Society didn't have to and shouldn't fade away yet if the kids would allow him to keep it going.

The committee looked at each other in surprise; the two boys felt a bit ashamed of their role in the meeting, while Jennie was on the verge of tears from joy.

That night at her bedside she said: “Thank you, dear Lord, for listening to me in my time of trouble. I appreciate you sending Uncle John right when I needed him.”

The boys went home quietly, but the brave girl dreamed of good times ahead.

AFTER a while, wood became hard to find. In some areas, you couldn't get it at any price. So what happened next? Ah! the Lord always provides, just like he did with the ram instead of Isaac, remember? One day, some guys were exploring the hills of Pennsylvania and stumbled upon part of a wooden structure sticking out of the ground with a piece of wood in it. But it didn’t look anything like wood—more like a black-painted stone. Yet it sparkled so brightly that they somehow took it home, and somehow, I can't quite explain how, they managed to get it to burn. Then they went back to the “wood house” and started digging, and the more they dug, the bigger the wood house became, until they couldn’t find any limits to it. Soon, a bunch of neighbors joined them with pickaxes and shovels, and nearly everyone in the area got involved. Now, how many do you think are getting wood there? A hundred? Ten thousand? Think again. And can you guess what kind of wood it is? Do you know anyone who can figure out how many cords of wood are in this place, who stacked it there, and when?

It does seem like an army of children would have starved or frozen to death if it weren't for that fuel; found just at the right time, you see.

But then, the great and loving Heavenly Father had an amazing Christmas gift to surprise the world with, something better and more affordable than this black wood.

Some people say there’s no God looking out for the poor working men and women, and they believe that one way to change things is by destroying the property of the wealthy, through strikes, and other actions. Meanwhile, the blessed God, whom these people deny, often with just a word or a deed, provides millions and millions of treasures for the poor workers, and unfortunately, many of them never thank Him for it. “What was the treasure?”

I was just about to tell you. Another huge wooden house, bigger than all the barns, meeting halls, opera houses, and mills in your country!

The logs need to be chopped and transported; the coal has to be mined and carried on trains, but this new fuel just arrives, and it comes faster than any train you've ever seen! All you need to do is drill into the ground in certain[23] places, anywhere from one hundred to fifteen hundred feet deep, and insert a long iron tube into the hole that extends to your fireplace. Then, just light a match at the open end of the tube, and get ready for one of the hottest fires you've ever experienced. But be careful—if too much of this new wood spills into your room, your roof might go up in flames, along with you! But don’t worry, I’m sure your dad will make sure a top-notch plumber installs everything safely. After that, you shouldn’t have to worry about explosions.

Right in the hearth will come the small flames, by turning some screws and striking a match. There are broken pieces of stone lying in the fireplace. These will heat up, from red to white. Then you’d better not touch them.

Now bring your cold fingers and toes, or head to the kitchen stove and see how beautifully your dinner is being cooked by this amazing wood.

There it is, too, warming up all the stores, banks, schools, churches, and everything that will let it pass through the iron tube. So, what do you think? I guess this is gas.

Yes, I knew you'd ask that: Who discovered it first, what does it cost, how does it look and smell, when will it run out, and how far will it travel? But if I tell you everything I know about it, you won’t have the chance to discover it for yourself, which is one of the best things for you—dealing with the challenge, along with the joy of uncovering some things without having to ask anyone else. Now, see if you can answer those questions on your own. I will say this: Pittsburgh, Penn., knows a lot about this gas. Just ask it.

CHARLIE HOLLAND, at your service. A well-dressed, polite, friendly-looking boy. You have a good feeling about him, right? Everyone who sees him feels the same way.

“His mother must be proud of him,” is a phrase often on people’s lips. Look at him now, as he lifts his hat politely, in response to a call from an open window.

“Charlie,” says the voice, “I was wondering if you could mail this letter for me? Are you going near the post office?”

“Close enough to help you, Mrs. Hampstead,” says the polite voice. “I’d be happy to do it.”

“I’d really appreciate it, Charlie, but I wouldn’t want to make you late for school because of that.”

“Oh! no danger at all, Mrs. Hampstead. It will only take a couple of minutes to run around the corner to the office.” And, as he takes the letter, he lifts his hat again politely.

“What a perfect little gentleman Charlie Holland is,” says Mrs. Hampstead to her sister, as the window closes. “Always so helpful; he acts like it's a pleasure for him to do a kind deed.”

Bend down a little so I can whisper a secret in your ear: it’s been only five minutes since that boy’s mom asked him, “Charlie, can you run upstairs and grab that letter off my desk and mail it for me?” And Charlie, with three lines on his forehead and a frown on each side of his mouth, said, “Oh, mom! I don’t know how I can! I’m already running late, and the post office is half a block out of my way.”

And the mother said, well then he doesn’t have to worry, because she didn’t want him to be late for school. So he didn’t worry and left the letter on the dresser, then continued on his way until he was stopped by Mrs. Hampstead.

What was wrong with Charlie Holland? Was he a dishonest kid? He didn't intend to be. He took pride in his strict honesty.

It was getting late, and he felt rushed, and he really didn't want to go upstairs. Obviously, he couldn't say no to Mrs. Hampstead, and if he hurried, he could make it to school on time; but the other lady was just his mom. Her letter could wait.

“Only his mom!” Didn’t Charlie Holland love his mom, then?

You ask him, with a hint of uncertainty in your voice, and notice how his eyes light up, and how confidently he will throw back his handsome head and say:

“I guess I do love my mom! She’s the best mom a guy could ever have.”

Oh! I didn’t promise to explain Charlie’s behavior to you; I’m just introducing him; you’re meant to figure him out for yourselves. Do you know any boy like him?

[24]

[25]

[26]

THE air was clear and fresh; a light dusting of snow had conveniently stopped right before it got deeper than the boots of the pedestrians and lay on the ground. It was an early fall, as the old farmers say when there's snow at Thanksgiving, and every sign suggested that winter was quickly setting in.

The old gray house, tucked away from the Cherryfield high road, had its chimney smoking by dawn because Mother Brimmer tied on her baking apron right after she explained to Rosalie how to make the simple breakfast “to hurry along those pies,” as she put it.

“All that can be done today, Rosy,” she said, amidst the hustle that was now happening, “is a clear advantage for tomorrow. Always remember that, kid; don’t leave a bunch of loose ends to tie up when you’re expecting company, thinking you’ll have time. You never do; and the last minute will sneak up on you before you realize it.”

“It’s so much fun,” hummed one girl in the family, stirring the cornmeal mush in the kettle vigorously, “to have company. I don’t remember having any before.”

“You forgot the pastor is coming for tea,” said Mrs. Brimmer, taking out her pie plates from the pantry. “Let me see; I’ll make four mince pies.”

“He's not company!” shouted Rosy. “Mr. Higginson isn’t; I’m not afraid of him at all.”

“No more you should be,” said Mrs. Brimmer, putting down her pie plates. “And really, kid, there’s no reason to be afraid of anyone as long as you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But it scares me to think that something doesn’t look nice, or that I don’t know how to do things,” said Rosy.

“Well, that’s really silly,” remarked Mrs. Brimmer, heading for her pastry board. “Do your best, Rosy, and then just let it go.”

Rosy turned her little anxious face toward her mother and smiled. “Anyway, this company should be nice, and the things will be nice too, I guess, Mom.”

“We’ll try to make them so,” her mother declared, energetically stirring her mince-meat in the stone jar.

“What will Miss Clorinda say when she sees the goose that I’m going to roast all by myself?” cried Rosy, leaving her mush-kettle to bring this important question to the baking-table. “What will she say, Mom?”

“I have no idea!” exclaimed Mrs. Brimmer, with pride. “She’ll probably say, ‘Was there ever such a fool!’ just like that, Rosy.”

“Do you really think she will!” the girl exclaimed with excitement, her cheeks flushing. When she looked like this, her brothers Jack and Cornelius always called her “Wild Rose,” and they secretly enjoyed finding as many surprising ways as possible to bring out her beauty.

“But you should get back to that mush,” said Mother Brimmer after a moment, “and have breakfast like you’re supposed to, and not worry about tomorrow. That will take care of itself.”

“So it will!” Rosy exclaimed cheerfully.

Jack and Cornelius, now rushing in for breakfast, left the little maid with no choice but to put aside her exciting plans for tomorrow and get to work. Soon, the table was set with a hot dish of mush, baked potatoes, and a big pitcher of milk. When Mother Brimmer was called in from her chores, she wiped her hands, took off her apron, and joined the family for their simple meal.

For the good woman, even though her kids were “doing well and taking care of themselves,” as she proudly put it, she practiced the same thriftiness as when times were tough and the future seemed bleak. “We won’t give up our simple breakfasts; they’ve always been good for us, and we don’t need any other food,” she would say when the boys suggested she have “a little meat for herself, at least.”

“No, no; I don’t want it,” she said, “Mom’s strong and healthy. As long as I’m in such great shape, you kids don’t need to worry.”

So the money that would have gone into the butcher’s register for the steak or lamb chop,[27] went instead into the bank to Brimmer Brothers and Company’s account.

And the way the family handled breakfasts influenced all the other details of their daily life. The only splurge they allowed themselves was on books and magazines; occasionally, Mrs. Brimmer would send the kids out for a good lecture or concert at the Town Hall in the evenings, or she'd go with some of them, while one of them always had to stay behind with Roly Poly, who was referred to as “the baby,” even though he was proudly five years old.

The business run by Brimmer Brothers and Company was a grocery store and general trade located in a small red building on their property, which used to be an old tool shed. The farmer who lived in the big gray house nearby would repair his farming tools there after finishing his work. The business was launched because the small amount of money left by Father Brimmer at his death had, despite careful management, dwindled down to just a tiny sum. The old, weathered house would serve them for their lifetime, and the land was theirs, but the growing family would need more each year to support them and help them take their rightful place in society. The children, who had quietly worried about how to support their mother, who had been working tirelessly for them for as long as they could remember, finally found a solution in the little old red tool shed.

“Here I am,” it seemed to say. “Your mom has given me to you for a playhouse; now use me to help her.”

It was inspiring at first, followed by a lot of hard work, much of it despite the mocking opposition and outright sneers from friends and townspeople. But Brimmer Brothers and Company, having started to face the world, never once considered avoiding any of the responsibilities that came their way. With the same determination as if everyone believed they could succeed in business, they decided in their minds to do just that and acted accordingly. And Rosy, who used to be the most timid person around strangers, now forgot all her fears, and as the new company grew, she developed a confidence and poise that amazed the guys.

All of this happened two years before this Thanksgiving; and now Mother Brimmer, the thriving business, and Roly Poly were going to have a party!

After breakfast dishes were put away, the boys rushed off to the shop, expecting a busy day ahead. The old kitchen started to look like it was preparing for a big celebration, filled with the aroma of spices and boiling sweets that reached beyond the lilacs and all the way to the front gate. Anyone walking by would have known it was Thanksgiving and guessed there were pies and other traditional holiday treats being prepared.

The job of pitting raisins and greasing the cake pans was left to Rosy, who was given the morning off from working in the shop to assist her mother with her unusual chores. Patiently, the little girl carried out her tasks, secretly planning that if any of her little wood-gardens didn’t sell in the shop, she would take one to decorate the dinner table for the next day while she helped the busy housewife, making countless trips in and out of the buttery and pantry.

“They can’t all be sold,” thought Rosy, almost wishing there wasn’t such a high demand for them. “If the red partridge-berries could just stay home, what a party we would have!”

But when Cornelius rushed in for dinner, with Jack staying back to watch the shop, he shouted happily, “Rosy, all of your gardens are sold, and we could have sold two more if we had them!” Rosy sighed deeply and then scolded herself for even hoping it could be different.

“Rosy will make more money than any of us,” declared Cornelius, usually called “Corny,” between his mouthfuls. “I really wish I’d thought about arranging roots and ferns and stuff in old cracked saucers.”

“But you help me,” cried Rosy. “I couldn’t even dig the roots without you, Corny.”

“And me, too!” shouted Roly Poly, or Primrose, which was her real name. “I always go with you, Rosy, you know,” and she put down the little bone she was slowly picking at to look at her sister seriously.

[28]

“So you do!” shouted Rosy and Cornelius together. “I’m sure we could never get along without you, Pet;” at which the baby of the family felt happy and smilingly picked up her bone again.

But that night, a knock echoed on the outer door, sharp and firm.

“Run and see who it is, Jack,” said Mother Brimmer, looking up from her mending a stocking.

Jack hurried back, holding a large parcel wrapped in loosely folded white paper.

“It’s for Rosy,” he said, putting it down.

“For me?” Rosy exclaimed, too shocked to open it; but Cornelius helped her, and finally the paper was ripped off.

“It’s your old red wooden garden!” exclaimed Corny, incredibly disappointed, having at least expected a big cake.

“Oh!” Rosy clasped her hands and did a joyful little spin in the middle of the floor. “Now it’s not wrong to want it!” she exclaimed, incredibly excited.

“If I’d known you wanted to keep one,” Jack said slowly, “so badly, I never would have sold it.”

“Who bought it?” his mother asked.

"Ms. Higginson."

“I wonder what other people do who don’t have a minister and his wife,” Mrs. Brimmer said, wiping her eyes as Rosy gushed over her treasure, caressing each leaf. “People should be good who listen to their preaching,” she added.

“We’ll be good tomorrow, anyway,” Cornelius declared. “Wow! Doesn’t it seem weird to go to church in the middle of the week?”

But the next day, wasn’t that a festive scene? The table was set in the living room, which had a door leading into the kitchen; knives and forks were laid out for seven guests: Mr. and Mrs. Higginson, the minister and his kind wife; Miss Clorinda Peaseley, a loyal friend of the family; old Widow Tucker and her single daughter who did tailoring and lived down in the Hollow; not because they would be such enjoyable additions to the party, but because Mother Brimmer was sure no other invitations would be sent to them for a Thanksgiving dinner; and lame Joey Clark and his sister, for the same reason, and because the children had asked to invite them.

Rosy’s wooden garden sat proudly at the center of the table, and it really did seem like there had never been so many bright little berries to brighten up the neat cloth, arranged in Mother Brimmer’s best style! They sparkled among their green leaves!

And the goose! The cheeks of the young girl who cooked it were just as rosy as her partridge berries from all the compliments she received; meanwhile, the chicken pie, spare ribs, plum pudding, and pies were called the best anyone had ever tasted; and the hickory nuts and butter nuts, cracked by the boys, got a special mention.

And old Widow Tucker’s thin face started to soften a bit, and she stopped making unkind comments about other people, which she had a tendency to do. Her daughter, Miss Mary Jane, noticing how happy her mom was, took off her glasses and began to be cheerful as well.

And the minister told the most amazing stories! And when he got tired, Miss Clorinda would jump in to keep the conversation going. Everyone laughed, even lame Joey Clark, and overall, there wasn't a family gathering in all of Cherryfield as cheerful and lively as this one.

And when they finally got up from the table, everyone insisting they couldn’t eat another bite, Rosy tugged at her mother’s dress and whispered, “I want to send a basket of treats to the Four Corners boys; can I, Mom?”

CHILDREN, steer clear of this wrongdoing. It pains me every day to see the damage caused by troublemakers. Someone once compared this wrong to making pins. “There’s sometimes a bit of truth, which I call the wire. As it moves from person to person, one person polishes it, another sharpens it, others shape and add the head, and in the end, the pin is complete.” The Bible warns a lot against creating mischief, and I recommend that you gather all the verses in this book related to this topic and memorize them. Then, I believe you’ll never commit this sin. Remember, my young friends, you can never undo the harm you may cause through gossip.

R.

[29]

SOME interesting facts have been presented in a paper by M. C. Nielsen from Christiana about how the vibrations of telegraph wires affect animals. For example, black and green woodpeckers, which search for insects in the bark and inside decaying trees, often peck into the circular holes created through telegraph poles, usually near the top. This behavior is thought to be due to the resonance in the post caused by the vibration of the wire, which the birds mistake for the sounds of worms and insects inside the pole. Everyone knows how much bears love honey. In mountainous areas, it has been observed that they seem to confuse the vibrating sound of the telegraph wires with the pleasant buzzing of bees. They rush to the post, looking for the hive. When they don’t find it, they knock over the stones at its base that help support it, and feeling disappointed, they give the post a final pat with their paw, showing their intent to at least kill any bees that might be nearby. Clear evidence of bears around fallen posts and scattered stones confirms that this occurs. As for wolves, M. Nielsen mentions that during a vote about the first major telegraph lines, a member of the Storthing said that even though his area had no direct interest in the proposed line, he would support it because he believed the lines would drive wolves away from the regions they passed through. It’s well known that to keep hungry wolves at bay during winter, farmers in Norway set up poles connected by a line or rope, which wolves wouldn’t dare to cross. “And it is a fact,” M. Nielsen remarks, “that when, twenty or so years ago, telegraph lines were installed over the mountains and along the valleys, wolves completely vanished, and now seeing one is rare.” Whether these two situations are connected, M. Nielsen does not claim to know.—Nature.

IN 1590, the armies of Henry the Fourth of France and the Duke of Mayenne gathered near Ivry, not far from Paris. It was March, and the weather was very stormy. As night fell, the large groups of soldiers dragging their cannons through the muddy ground took their positions for the terrible battle about to begin. Henry had about twelve thousand men, while the Duke had nearly twenty thousand. Before dawn, Henry mounted his horse and rode along his lines, speaking to them with encouraging words. He emphasized their loyalty to France and to themselves. In conclusion, he said: “If in the chaos of battle you lose sight of your banner, follow the white plume on my helmet; you will find it on the path to victory and honor.”

Oh! What a conflict Ivry witnessed that day! My dear little friends, I’ve never understood why people love war. I can’t see any good it has ever done; on the contrary, war and excess have made this world a sad and gloomy place. Read a full account of this battle, and I think you’ll agree with me that war has no appeal. Frantic battalions charged across the plain, crushing the wounded. Grapeshot mowed down entire ranks, and cries of despair echoed across the field. In just one hour, the plain was soaked in blood. Henry came out victorious, but it was a costly victory. In the horrific retreat, two thousand were killed, and many were captured. I imagine all of France was draped in mourning after that terrible day, and thousands of families lost their loved ones. Don’t you think it will be a joyous day when warriors’ horses are forever tethered in olive groves, and all people love one another? I hope that as long as we live, peace, with gentle wings, will watch over our beloved land!

Ringwood.

ALTHOUGH so much has been said about the Isthmus of Panama and the projects currently underway there, very little attention has been given to the town from which that area takes its name. English people should, however, feel some special interest in it; since the old town, founded in 1518, was destroyed by Morgan, the famous buccaneer, who set out from our shores on his adventurous journeys. The new town was built by the Spanish Governor, Fernandez de Cordova, somewhat away from the old location, on a rocky peninsula that was artificially raised and protected from the sea by a massive stone wall, flanked on either side by strong bastions. This fortification was designed by the renowned engineer, Alfonso de Villa Costa, and was regarded as the strongest place in the New World after Carthagena. According to an account from the Exploration, a French newspaper, these stone defenses are now crumbling into ruins, except for the southeast bastion, which is still used by locals as a popular promenade. On the land side, where the defenses would have been most useful today, they have been deliberately destroyed; now the town is vulnerable to periodic attacks from the people in the surrounding areas, who are sometimes stirred up by someone aspiring to power and led to the hill of Santa Ana, which overlooks the town. Once they gain this advantage, they engage in skirmishes with the townspeople, and if they win, they take control of the government until it is overthrown by similar actions. The town was wealthy and attractive toward the end of the last century. However, its commerce was devastated by wars, and its residents, through negligence, have allowed many fine buildings to be burned down. The railway seems to have restored some of its significance, and much more is expected from the canal that is currently being planned.

—Chosen.

[31]

THE subject of our sketch became one of England’s most knowledgeable individuals. He was born in Lichfield in 1709 and passed away in 1784. He once created a dictionary of our language; he also wrote “The Rambler,” “Rasselas,” and “The Idler.”

I want to share a little story about him when he was a small boy. His father had a bookstand, and one day he said, “Samuel, I’m feeling weak, I need you to take my place at the stand.”

But the proud son refused, and the ailing father then walked away, only saying, “Well, if you can treat your sick father like this, I’m sure you’ll remember it when I’m dead and gone.”

His conscience, however, soon started to bother him. All day he pictured his poor father, sick and weak, sitting at the stall, and he thought to himself, “Poor dad! His head must be pounding. I really regret not going.”

This unkindness the boy could never forget, and years later, even while surrounded by the elite of England, it would often come back to him.

Many years went by, and one day an elderly man walked through the bustling market in Uttoxeter. He paused at the spot that had been the book-seller's fifty years earlier, and the old man was heard to say:

“Yes, this is the exact place—the exact place!”

It was the great and famous man of England, whose heart still held the memory of his cruelty to his unfortunate father.

R.

IT is time for Baby Elizabeth to go to bed. She doesn’t want to go to bed. She shakes her head and says, “No bed! No bed!” Her little mouth is puckered up like a round O; there’s a big tear in each blue eye. Does Baby want to stay up all night? Should Mommy leave her sitting on the floor all night long? No, no! Little mice stay up all night, running around and nibbling and squeaking; but sweet babies need to go to their cozy beds.

See! The sun has gone down. The little pink clouds are settling in the sky. The white lilies have closed up for the night. The little birds have hopped up in the tree to sleep. They are singing a lullaby to the baby. Listen! What are they saying? “Go to sleep, sleep, sleep. Good night, little E-liz-a-beth! Good night!”

Now the baby smiles. She’s doing well. She’ll be in her long white gown. She folds her tiny hands and says, “Now I lay me down to sleep.” Mom places her in her white crib. In just a minute, her eyes are closed. Little Elizabeth is asleep.

In the early morning, the sun will rise quickly. The white lilies will wake up and wash their faces in the dew. The little birds will open their eyes. They will say, “Peep, peep! Good morning, Baby! Time to get up!” Then Baby’s eyelids will open; she will smile and show her six white teeth. All day long the sun will shine. The lilies will grow. The birds will sing, and little Elizabeth will be sweet.

Mrs. C. M. Livingston.

[32]

[1]

Last year, there were fifty-five counties in Iowa with no one using their jails at all for the entire year. You know, Iowa is where they have that prohibition law that “does not prohibit.” It really seems to have an effect.

Since some towns in Georgia have successfully banned the sale of alcohol, a minister from one of them writes, “The results are incredible. The town's business has more than doubled. I don’t know a single shop owner who wouldn’t vote against the liquor trade solely for business reasons.”

An employee was recently fined for letting his dog drink beer, which made the dog aggressive. The judge believed it was the man's responsibility for allowing his dog to drink. Why shouldn't a dog have the right to drink beer if it's given to him? How can we control what someone wants to consume? This question has been raised: “If that worker was required to stop his dog from drinking beer and harming others, should we allow people to drink alcohol and harm themselves and others?”

I'm curious if the Pansies have talked about “rubber grapes”? Little rubber bags that look just like big, beautiful grapes; but what do you think is inside them, instead of the delicious fruit that God created? Well, it’s brandy, whiskey, wine, or whatever alcohol the buyer chooses! Can you believe it? The ad describing them claims one big advantage is, “that travelers can refresh themselves this way without attracting attention.” Can they? Let’s make that part tough for them; thirty thousand Pansy Blossoms with their eyes wide open aren’t going to be tricked by rubber grapes. Of course, every boy and girl will make sure that no miserable fraud pretending to be a “fruit dealer” gets any of their money for his phony grapes. But isn’t Satan clever, and sneaky, and active? Honestly, we need to keep our eyes wide open indeed.

Who? among us has ever visited the Indian school in Carlisle, Pa.? If any Pansy Blossom has been there, I’d love for them to write us a letter about the school. It's a really interesting place; four hundred and fifty students, both boys and girls; the girls wear navy-blue dresses and cloaks, with scarlet lining, while the boys are dressed in military uniforms. With their bright eyes and black hair, I think they must look striking.

Industrious people they are; the cooking is done entirely by the students; the clothing is all made by them; they even make their own shoes! They are very good learners; some of them are truly brilliant.

You’re curious how they find time to study with so much work to do; it’s all carefully organized for them. Half the students go to school in the morning while the other half work in the sewing room, the pantry, the harness shop, the printing office, the carpenter’s room, and so on. In the afternoon, the two groups switch; the students work, and the workers attend classes.

Think about how just a little while ago these boys and girls were wandering through the forests, sleeping on the ground, with old blankets as their only clothing; learning to be serious threats to all white people! Now some of them are Christians, and all are well-behaved and hardworking. Who will remember to pray daily for the Indian School at Carlisle?

[2n]

My dear Blossoms

I have a really great plan for the year. I’m curious who among you will join me? A Bible Band. That’s what I want to create. I’ll put together and print a list of readings for each day in the month in every Pansy. How many of my Blossoms will commit to reading the day’s portion with me and writing out answers to the following questions in little blank books set aside for that purpose?

1. What should I especially remember from this reading?

2. Is there a path for me to take, and if there is, what is it?

3. Is there anything I should avoid, and if so, what is it?

How can I use these verses to get me through this day?

Now, how I plan to do this is by going over the verses and writing my report in my little blank book before I leave my room in the morning. That might not be a convenient time for all of you. The little ones who can't read or write yet might have to wait for mom, dad, or sister to have some free time to help them. But I hope everyone who can will join me in the morning before heading downstairs; then, after the reading, we’ll kneel down and ask God to help us remember the verses throughout the day.

I would like each member of the P. S. who will join this Bible Band to send me a letter addressed to Winter Park, Florida, promising to follow the rules of the Band as outlined here. I will send a small card for their Bible bookmark with the reader's name written on the back and the date of the pledge. I will keep a record of all members of the Bible Band. At the end of each month, I would appreciate a copy of what you wrote in your little blank books. If you’d like, you can take a large sheet of paper at the beginning of the month and make a copy for me each day, sending it to me at the end of the month.

I will maintain a list of those reports, and at the end of the year, I will share the names of the members who have reported each month. I'll also send each of them a small token of appreciation for their commitment.

Now I’m curious about how big my group will be. I’ll keep you updated through The Pansy on its size and growth, and I'll send you greetings. I believe many of you will join me. I really hope so. It’ll be nice to picture my Blossoms reading and reflecting on the same Bible verses each day. Who will be the first to offer their name and get the bookmark?

With love,
Pansy.

P. S.—If any of you know about something especially nice that happened during Thanksgiving, send us a description of it.

Understood. Please provide the text for me to modernize.

[3n]

Lucy May Quint. If all the Pansies were as active as my little friend in Whitefield, how incredibly busy I would be adding names to The Pansy list. Thank you so much, my dear. Making your meetings successful will take a dedicated Lucy, who is thinking, reading, planning, talking with parents and others, praying to Jesus for guidance and comfort, and never losing hope, no matter what happens to disrupt your meetings.

Keep collecting for your meetings—a snippet from this book or paper; another from a conversation with someone; and so on. This way, you'll always have something available.

You had a “great,” “wonderful” time at church on Children’s Day, surrounded by flowers and singing birds, evergreen trees, and, best of all, a good sermon.

It’s important to join the church. Now be faithful, dear, to your commitment, for Jesus’ sake. Don’t let anyone who knows you question whether you are a Christian.

Christiana Lacy. No, the Editor didn’t forget Sevenfold Trouble, but “Uncle Sam” somehow forgot to send it from the writer to the printer. The mail doesn’t always work as it should.

Yes, I’ve read some of Miss Alcott’s works.

You and your friend Jennie seem to be doing well in school. I'm happy to hear good things about every Pansy.

Alice of Minn. “At the farm.” It’s no surprise you love it so much; in the orchard, where you have a swing; by the brook, where you try to catch a speckled trout; with the sheep and cows; riding on hay or wheat from the field to the barn; then having fresh bread and sparkling butter!

As for the dishwashing, you three girls sure do chat a lot while you're at it and brag about whose cups and saucers are the cleanest. If you send me a corrected copy of the Queer Story, I can see if it's right.

Ruth Kimball. Hunting for eggs, boating among pond lilies, at Cedar Bend Farm; with such a sweet friend like Alice, what a happy girl you are. Well, darling, brighten other hearts too, won’t you?

Gertrude Burgess. Only perfect stories appear in my report on the Queer Story. Many come close, but that’s still a failure, just like missing by a hundred. You get it? “A miss is as good as a mile.” So, review your work over and over before you submit it. That way, you’ll definitely produce perfect work someday. In the meantime, this effort will be a learning experience for you. You’re an amazing girl for fighting so bravely against that flaw. Have you learned to rely on Jesus’ strength for your weakness?

Lydia Sewell. The pansy on the card is bigger than most, but not bigger than some I’ve seen. With proper care, they can grow quite large. Your revised Queer Story is well done, though it still has a few mistakes. It would be pretty unusual if every detail was perfect. Still, if you’re a determined girl, you’ll definitely keep working on your spelling until you know it as well as you know your mom’s face among thousands of others. Keep it up and prove you’re a true Pansy soldier.

Lydia I. Boring. Your Queer Story is one of perfection. So you don’t need to feel down. Some people have made a dozen mistakes. I bet you'll be number one on the next Queer Story.

Adella F. Coy. I'm glad to hear you feel so positively about your Pansy picture. I wonder if you have the picture of the Lord etched in your heart and often gaze upon it with faith and love. Let’s never become too old to enjoy guiding and blessing the little ones. Your words about the badge bring me joy. Many others have said the same. If you send me a corrected copy of the Queer Story, I’ll take a look at it.

Helen S. Sloan. See above about the Queer Story. You “Busy Bees” raised $127. The hospital will think that's sweet as honey. You need to write to D. Lothrop Company, Boston, Mass., about the “prizes.” They will explain.

Mary E. Simpson. As you asked, I’ve given your letter to R. M. Alden. I doubt he’ll just toss it in the trash.

Charlie Compher lives in Leesburg, VA. He would be happy to receive a letter from you.

The countryside is a beautiful place. Isn't it strange that so many country boys and girls don't feel this way, but instead are unhappy and want to move to the city, convinced that the city will bring them happiness? Happiness, my dear Mary, is a valuable treasure.

[4n]

Nannie Johnson. You are eleven years old. If you live to be seven times that and each day “grow in grace,” you’ll be a beautiful old lady. Of course, you’ll outgrow “carelessness” in the first month and have plenty of time to clean up after mom instead of her doing it for you; and the “pony,” “parrot,” “dog,” and “dear little baby sister,” along with everyone else, I’m sure, will be happy about that.

K. G. Boring. A detailed account of your Fourth of July. I can almost picture you at the parade, and I'm really glad you made it home safe from the crowds and the sound of the horses' hooves, and that your fingers are still intact. Rockets and Roman candles seen from the rooftop! Balloons, too! Happy kid! But what will you think when you see the great Lord coming in the clouds? How happy you will be if you belong to Him when He comes.

May Cameron. I want to commend you for discovering so many errors in the Queer Story. I need to look at your work to assess its accuracy. Regarding the faults: many are issues of temperament; many are related to disorganization; others include teasing, talking back, saying “wait a minute,” biting nails, etc.

Remember me to Mr. Doane. You all seem like a really engaged Band of Hope, with your meetings, “Mizpah,” flowers, and care for the sick. Being active for the Savior keeps you safe from Satan.

Charlie M. Ritter. You’re so thoughtful to remember the organ. I wish I could say something that would bring all the beauty and positivity to your life. But your time will come. Trust in the Lord, stay strong. He listens to the young raven when it cries. You must have had such a wonderful time on Children’s Day.

Elma Holmes. And while you wear your badge here and there, make sure you live in a way that your mother and all your loved ones at home can say, “Our Elma does what she claims.”

Edith G. Grant. I wouldn’t be surprised if your Queer Story was accurate. Let me see a copy now. Allie will soon pick up other useful skills besides “cutting kindling,” maybe reading Pansy or Bible stories when mom is tired. I would really love to visit you at your summer home in “beautiful Tullahoma.” Instead, I went to beautiful Asheville, N.C., in September.

————————————————

ANOTHER blossom has been planted in the garden of God. Herbie Baily of Madison, Wis., passed away at the age of ten on July 6th. He was attending a Fourth of July celebration with his parents when he was accidentally struck by a ball. Initially, there were no serious concerns until two days later, when, at 8 PM, he rushed into the house, screaming: “My head! My head! I’m going to die!” He took his last breath at 11. Now, can you blame his dear mother for saying, “It feels like I can't handle his loss?”—this is a boy who was “so tender and quick to sympathize with anyone in trouble and pain,” who found nothing more delightful than the ‘Story of the Bible,’ and who loved everything about the life of Christ.

Maybe now some caring person will feel inspired to write a note of condolence to Herbie’s mother, Mrs. A. S. Baily.

————————————————

Sylbil L. Anderson, Gilbert Anderson, Lizzie Carnes, Addie R. Crane, Estelle Duncan, Edith R. Foster, Mrs. Joshua Gowing, Josie ——, of Amesbury, Mass., Carrie I. Glauche, H. H. Hass, Jessie M. Hatch, John W. Holland, Marcella McDougall, Mabel A. Morse, Rose Price, Christine and Ollie Seely, Alice Stone, Rena B. Williams, and H. G. Shattuck, A. S. Willick, S. Willard Wood, Norma E. Wood, Mary W. Wells, Nellie M. Merritt.

To almost all of these names, letters with badges have been sent and returned. Most didn’t provide a post office, state, county, street, or number. Write to me now and tell me exactly where I can send these letters. Be clear and specific.

Understood. Please provide the text you would like me to modernize.

Dear, generous Mr. Wright:

First: I hope you are doing well and have no health issues. Second: If you're asking about my health, I thank God that my mother, my sister, and I are all doing great, and we're grateful to our Lord and Savior for His blessings. I could go on forever counting the gifts from God. It's enough to say that He gave us His beloved Son, Jesus Christ, and saved us from death.

If you want to learn about the lives of gentlemen and ladies, the missionaries, thank God, are all safe and hard at work spreading the good news to the masses.

Their families and women are safe. Our school, along with the teacher, Baroon Wahan, and the students, are safe; every day Baroon Wahan is busy teaching them. They learn from holy books.

I, myself, am busy every morning giving Turkish lessons to my dear Sir Mr. Whipple, the agent of the American Bible Society. At other times, I work at the telegraph office. There, I write the subjects and stay busy until night, and we finish late. These days, I’m also giving English lessons to the son of the chief of the telegraph and the son of Aga Mirza Abdul Ali, the doctor. I’m sorry I don’t have a Persian to English dictionary. When I want to translate a book from Turkish to English, it becomes impossible. I feel inadequate and unqualified. If I had this dictionary, I hope I could spread English further. You are my benefactor; you are my kind and merciful friend.

If you don’t have any more dictionaries and you only have one that you also need for yourself, you can’t send it to me. You promised you would write to Constantinople or America. They’ll send it to me. You consider it a gift for me, given at Festival time. I hope you’re not feeling desperate about me, but that you will help me... I’m waiting for your response. I hope you’ll send me that book and make me glad and happy. If you have orders, write to me. I will carry them out completely. I will obey all your requests. May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. Amen! And may God increase your love for Jesus, His beloved Son. Amen! If you find any mistakes, please overlook my faults. I apologize, sir. This is the first letter I’ve written in English.

Mirza Ali,
Mr. Whipple's instructor.

Understood! Please provide the text you'd like to modernize.

WHEN the Pansy Society started, there was a boy, whose name must not be revealed. His mother tried to persuade him to pledge himself against using cigarettes. He had become a heavy smoker. The superintendent of the Sunday school of which this boy was a member tried too. But he didn’t want a badge or to have his cravings controlled. He became very reckless, following anyone and everyone around to get a cigarette. This brought him into the saloons, where he learned to drink lager beer, swear, and tell stories.

If all the cigars he has smoked since then were lined up end to end, they would stretch nearly one-fifth of a mile!

How many gallons of beer he has drunk and how many oaths he has sworn would take too large a piece of paper to write them all down. I'm sorry to announce that he is not getting any better.

[Send a corrected copy to Mrs. Alden.]

The following individuals have mastered the Queer Story. A few others might have done so, but since they haven't submitted their work for review, I can't tell:

Glenroy L. Black, Lucy Dickerson, Charlotte Fitch, Louise Hosmer, Cora J. Russell, Margaret Hoyt, Jessie Strengle, Hallie Edwards, Daisy Vaughan, Lydia Boring, Agnes Oliver.

Several others were just one or two words away from perfection.

Understood! Please provide the phrases you'd like me to modernize.

(Published by D. Lothrop Co.)

Soldier and Assistant. By Ella M. Baker. Price $1.25; to Pansy Society 75 cents. A truly excellent book for girls, with not a boring page in it. The young Christian will definitely find inspiration in the story of Lisle’s pure, genuine life as a soldier and servant.

After School Hours. By Lucy Wheelock. Price $1.00; to Pansy Society 60 cents. It’s a real shame that the sensational fiction that's the main reading material for many of our older girls couldn't be swapped out for simple, delightful stories like this one. It's uplifting and wholesome, packed with valuable lessons, both practical and spiritual.

Swiss Tales. From the German of Madame Johanna Spyri. By Lucy Wheelock. Price $1.00. To Pansy Society 60 cents. A beautiful[6n] book inside and out; perfect for a gift. It's not just entertaining; every child who reads it will benefit from its pure, sweet lessons. We quote a few pages from “Lisa’s Christmas”:

“The next day, the big question was what the lamb's name would be.”

“Lisa suggested naming it Eulalie, since that was her friend’s cat's name, and she thought it was a really nice name. But the boys didn’t like it. It was too long. Kurt suggested Nero, after the big dog at the mill. But Lisa and Karl weren’t happy with that name either.

“In despair, they went to their mother, who suggested he should be called ‘Curlyhead,’ and from that point on, he was Curlyhead.”

“The little creature quickly became a beloved pet for the kids. They took him out to play whenever they had some free time. Sometimes they went to the pasture, and Kurt and Karl would look for soft, juicy clover leaves to bring him, while Lisa sat on a bank with the little creature’s head in her lap.”

“Whenever a child was sent on an errand to the mill or to the baker’s, the lamb had to go along, and he listened so attentively to all the conversation his friend directed at him that it was clear he understood every word. He grew plump like a ball, and his wool was as white and charming as if he were always in his Sunday best.”

“The beautiful sunny autumn was coming to an end, Christmas was approaching, Kurt and Karl shared all their cherished dreams with Curlyhead and assured him that he would get his share of holiday presents.”

“Lisa had a good friend, Marie, who lived in the big farmhouse on the way to the Zillesback. Lisa was really eager to visit her because she could discuss her Christmas plans more freely with her than with her brothers. She had permission to go on her first free afternoon, and when the time finally came, she was so excited to leave that she could hardly stay still long enough for her mom to tie her warm scarf. Then she took off running, while her mom watched her until she was halfway down the hill; then she turned and went back inside.”

“At that moment, Lisa thought that Curlyhead would make their trip more fun if her brothers hadn’t already taken him. She quickly turned around, ran back to the barn, and brought out Curlyhead. Together, they ran down the hard path where the bright autumn leaves were dancing in the wind. They soon reached the end of their journey, where Lisa and her friend got deeply involved in conversation, walking back and forth on the sunny patch of grass in front of the house, while Curlyhead happily nibbled at the hedge.”

“The two friends occasionally refreshed themselves with pears and juicy red apples, which grew in great abundance on the farm."

“Marie’s mom had brought out a big basket, and Lisa was supposed to take home what was left. When it was time for Lisa to head home, Marie walked part of the way with her, and they were chatting so much that they reached the sight of Lisa's house before they realized it. Marie quickly said goodbye, and Lisa rushed up the path. It was already dark. Just as she got to the house, a thought suddenly struck her: ‘Where is Curlyhead?’”

“She realized she had brought him along. She had noticed him munching on the hedge and then she completely forgot about him.”

“In a terrible panic, she hurried back down the mountain. ‘Curlyhead, Curlyhead, where are you? Oh, come on, come on!’”

“But everything was quiet. Curlyhead was nowhere in sight. Lisa dashed back to the farmhouse. There was already a light on in the sitting-room window, and she could look in from the stone steps near the house. They were all gathered at the dinner table: dad, mom, Marie, her brothers, and the staff. The old cat was sprawled on the bench by the stove; but there was no sign of Curlyhead as Lisa checked all the corners. Then she ran around the house into the garden, around the hedge, back into the garden, and along the inside of the hedge, calling, ‘Curlyhead, come on, oh! come, come!’”

“All in vain; there was no sight or sound of the lamb. Lisa became more anxious. It got darker, and the wind howled louder and louder, almost blowing her off her feet. She had to go home. What should she do? She couldn’t bring herself to say she had lost Curlyhead. If only she could see her mom alone first!”

[7n]

This kit includes the book that teaches every known stamping method, priced at 25 cents; a box of the best powder and pad for 15 cents; materials for indelible stamping on plush, felt, etc., for 15 cents; materials and instructions for Parker’s New Method (copyrighted), No Paint, No Powder, No Daub, for 50 cents; a new 1888 Catalogue (showing all the latest stamping patterns), for 10 cents; and an Illustrated Wholesale Price List of embroidery materials, infants' wardrobes, corsets, jewelry, and everything women need.

A SET OF DESIGN PATTERNS.—With this set, anyone can create thousands of beautiful pieces for embroidery, tinsel work, painting, etc. No experience needed—even a child can do it. An illustrated book shows how to make patterns to fill any space; all the flowers used in embroidery are included. Everyone who does stamping wants a set, which can only be obtained with this outfit. This outfit also contains TWO HUNDRED or more stamping patterns ready for use. The following is just a partial list:—Splasher Design, 22 in., 50 cents; Roses, 12 in., and Daisies, 12 in., for scarfs or tidies, 25 cents each; Wide Tinsel Design, 12 in., 25 cents; Strips of Scallops for flannels, wide and narrow, 30 cents; Braiding Patterns 10 cents; Splash! Splash! “Good Night,” and “Good Morning,” for pillow shams, two nice outline designs for tidies, 6x8, 50 cents; Tray Cloth Set, 50 cents; Teapot, Sugar, Cream, Cup and Saucer, etc.; Pond Lilies, 9x12, 25 cents; 2 Alphabets, $1.00; 2 Sets of Numbers, 30 cents; Patterns of Golden Rod, Sumac, Daisies, Roses, etc., tinsel and outline patterns, disks, crescents, etc.

In addition to all these and many other patterns, we include a coupon worth $1 for patterns of your choice from our catalog.

The Modern Priscilla (the only practical fancy work journal in America) will also be sent free for one year, thanks to an agreement with the publishers.

[8n]

Sunday School books have been getting better and better for many years, yet we believe they are barely keeping up with the overall progress. In fact, the enhancement of Sunday School books has largely been influenced by the addition of books intended for broader use.

Why not expand the term to include the fact and get other books for Sunday Schools that are suitable for young people, books that will help them succeed?

That’s the direction D. Lothrop Company has been heading for several years; and its Sunday School books mainly consist of reading and pictures that aren’t limited to religious topics. Now, it’s taking an even bolder step in line with current trends and is providing a separate list of books for Sunday Schools that aren’t typically considered for that purpose.

Everybody knows that kids, especially boys, tend to prefer a library where all kinds of books are easily accessible. Having free rein to browse is likely to lead them toward lower-quality reads rather than higher ones. But why not make the Sunday School library appealing without the risks? Why not offer the joy of inspiring, educational, and helpful literature in some books while providing religious teachings in others, all without the junk?

So two separate lists of books for the Sunday School library: one of modern (not “goody-goody” or dumb) Sunday School books, and the other of secular books for the younger generation.

These lists are organized based on how acceptable the books are, primarily indicated by the numbers assigned. (1) religious Sunday School books; and (2) secular Sunday School books.

The books in both lists are arranged according to how acceptable they are. So, the lists help in picking books. The majority vote might not be a perfect standard, but is there a better one, especially when the voters know what they're voting on?

The person who creates and sells something is the one who understands its quality; because feedback from users reaches him quickly. These lists are created with that knowledge in mind.

First and foremost among the clearly religious books are the Pansy books. Pansy herself is a leader of children. When she speaks, they eagerly hang on her every word. When she raises her hand, theirs instinctively go up. The secret of such power lies in sympathy, feeling together.

So in her books, she dives into their smallest experiences. The boys and girls in her stories, the children of her imagination, are just like her readers—natural, real people; not merely lifelike, but as real as you are. They exist in their own world alongside the rest of us; they have their ups and downs, the same confusions we all face; and they succeed. So will we, the readers!

That is inspiration. The reader becomes the actor, the hero, the heroine. Lucky is the writer who uses such power to help, guide, and uplift.

There are over a hundred “Pansy books,” mostly written by Pansy herself, with a few by one or two helpers and some by others entirely. We can honestly say they represent the very best in traditional Sunday School literature. They are part of the highest level of Sunday School work.

D. Lothrop Company, Boston, is currently publishing these lists of religious and secular Sunday School books, organized to show their relative popularity. The Pansy books are at the top of the religious list, while Arthur Gilman’s History of the American People leads the secular list.

Send for the primer—it's available for free from the publishers.

Babyland is such a great distraction for the baby and a helpful resource for the mom that it should be in every family with a baby. It’s filled with pictures, songs, and laughter. Your baby will engage with it, whether you like it or not.

[1p]

The things you can choose from—you who look around at your neighbors and help them select their books and pictures.

It’s a friendly gesture. The time to start being mindful of reading materials and images is when the baby can grasp them. They should come in this order:

Think about a life that isn’t harmed by bad books and images, but instead supported by good books and images all along the way! It is a friendly thing to do!

We create terms for work that you’ve never heard of.

D LOTHROP COMPANY
BOOK AND MAGAZINE PUBLISHERS
BOSTON

[2p]

Whoever skips this page, please skip them all.

Premiums are payment for work and nothing more. That work involves obtaining new subscriptions. It’s complete when you send in the names, addresses, and payment. After that, you can choose from the items in the List.

This work is really important to us, even if there's not much to do in your area. We pay for it every penny there is; we pay in a way that makes it more valuable to you than to us, especially if you live where it's tough to find good new things, where the shops are filled with items that are on their way out instead of those that are coming in.

We included in the List the best options we can find and the best value for your money: some items because they’re worth knowing about; others to meet needs we know exist—we didn’t include anything to be embarrassed about. Some items are common; not everything is new or difficult to find; but the ones we highlight are worth a closer look.

To be on the List at all is an honor. To be mentioned is a great honor.

Premiums are due when the names and money arrive, and you can collect them at any time after that; the sooner, the better for us. You can take them as you earn them, or wait a bit to accumulate more and save on transportation costs; but the sooner you take them, the more certain you are of receiving them. Some will be gone eventually.

All costs for shipping, express delivery, and postage are paid by the recipient, except for postage on books, magazines, and a few small items where the postage is only a cent or two.

The postage for items that can be mailed is listed in the guide, except as mentioned above. [If the postage isn’t specified: if the item weighs just an ounce or two, we cover the postage; but if it's heavier, it must be sent express.] It’s often the case that items can be mailed for less using express services. We choose the most affordable option if we know it.

Some items are sent straight from the producers to save costs.

Everything over four pounds, too large for the mail, or for any other reason cannot be mailed, is sent by express; and you pay the shipping costs upon delivery.

You can usually figure out how much it will cost by estimating the size and weight and asking at your shipping service.

You can save on shipping costs to some degree by putting multiple items in one package.

We pack carefully and hand off to the carrier in good condition. That's all we can do. After that, the risk is yours. We can register packages sent by mail if you pay the registration fee of ten cents per package, in addition to the postage.

We pay for new subscriptions, not for renewals. What’s the difference? A new one is for a family that wasn’t on our list before.

We pay premiums in good faith and expect them to be earned in good faith. A subscriber can cancel one magazine and start a new subscription for another; however, simply changing the name of a magazine within a household doesn't count as a new subscription. Your own subscription (if it's new) can contribute along with others (but not by itself) for premiums. We have to set some boundaries. We don’t scrutinize too closely, nor do we assume bad intentions too easily. We prefer to be a bit generous, but we don’t plan to be taken advantage of.

To qualify for premiums, you must send your subscriptions directly to the publishers, not through another agent. We don’t pay for the same subscription twice.

You are entrusted with money on our behalf by the subscribers you acquire. You are their agent, not ours. Be loyal to them. Send their names and money as soon as you receive them. You are accountable to them until we gather the names, addresses, and money together. After that, you are free.

Subscriptions can start at any time. If you forget to specify a date, we'll make our best guess.

The volumes start like this: Wide Awake, December and June; Chautauqua Young Folks’ Journal, December; Pansy, November; Our Little Men and Women, January; Babyland, January.

No price changes; no credit (send your name, address, and payment together); pay by postal money order, by American Express money order, by registered letter, or by bank check (you can send postage stamps in registered letters for change); write clearly and completely; provide full addresses for subscribers (they may vary); sign your name and include your full address in every message.

The above pertains to premiums sent within the United States.

To the British North American Colonies, other items need to be sent by express, with the receiver covering any tariff costs. However, magazines and books can be sent to these colonies by mail. There is a duty on books, but not on magazines.

Things in the List are also sold for money, with payment required in advance, no discounts given, no packing charges, and sent at the receiver’s cost and risk.

Wait for the return mail and an extra week before you assume your letter or our reply hasn't arrived; then write down the details: the date you sent it, how you sent it, and how much.

The first step is to send us 15 cents for sample copies of all five magazines, subscription forms, and other resources.

D LOTHROP COMPANY
BOOK AND MAGAZINE PUBLISHERS
BOSTON

[3p]

Jack-straws, two sets. Prices: $0.25 and $0.50; for $0.30 and $0.60 with new subscriptions. Postage: $0.03. One set contains more pieces and also more types—ladders, spades, hoes, mallets, arrows, etc., made from wood in various colors.

Develops careful handling and creativity.

Puzzle Map of the United States, on rectangular paper blocks to be matched together. Price 25 cents; for 30 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 6 cents.

Teaches what we seniors need to learn—where the States are.

The Frisky Cow. Price 50 cents; 60 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 44 cents—express may be cheaper. Size 6 by 8 by 12 inches.

For little kids. Johnny rolls the ball and hits the knob on the right, rings a bell, and counts to 10. Susan hits the middle knob, counts to 20, and the cow jumps over the moon.

One of the happiest toys we know of.

Shadow Transformations. Price 25 cents; for 30 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 6 cents.

Figures cut out of cards create shadows from any kind of light. The shadows are silhouette images. The combinations are countless. There’s more fun in them than we can capture on paper.

Stimulates creativity and innovation; because no one stops with these cards.

Toy Money in a cash box. Price 25 cents; for 30 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 4 cents.

The coins are printed cardboard replicas just like the picture, but they're full size.

“Playing store” teaches the kids a lot more than just math; and how can they make change without any cash?

Historiscope. Price $1; $1.25 for new subscriptions. Postage 10 cents.

A view of scenes in American history, with a short “lecture.” You turn that small crank, and the “lecture” describes the images.

American Toy Village. Price $1; $1.25 for new subscriptions. Postage 12 cents.

The buildings, which are made of painted wood, can be set up on the lithographed “plan” like in the picture, or on a table, lawn, or sand.

[4p]

Words and Sentences, a game, with variations that are known by several other names, like Logomachy, War of Words, etc. Price is 25 or 50 cents; or 30 or 60 cents for new subscriptions. Postage is 3 cents and 7 cents. Two styles available, one more durable than the other and in a wooden box.

A family game that's not just for kids. It builds vocabulary and skills in using words.

Checker Men. Price 10 cents; for 15 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 7 cents.

Thirty double-faced pieces 1¼ inches in diameter.

Halma. Price $1; $1.25 for new subscriptions. Shipping is 22 cents.

“The only important board game that’s purely about skill that has been invented since checkers and chess.” It was introduced two years ago and is said to be very popular. It comes with a large flat folding paper board, a box with pieces, and instructions.

Chess, Checkers, and Halma all in one. Price $1.75; $2 for new subscriptions. Shipped by express delivery.

Checkerboard on one side, halma on the other, with a cherry frame and a trough for the pieces, 19x19 inches: chess, checkers, and halma pieces, along with instructions for halma.

Carpet Bowls. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 32 cents.

Like quoits, except that the balls are rolled instead of tossed, and the center is a ball that gets moved around as the game progresses.

Snap. Price 25 cents; 30 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 4 cents.

Teaches speed.

Social Hours. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 10 cents.

A pamphlet filled with games, tricks, illusions, and puzzles, along with a box of all the necessary items to play with. A huge number; too many to count.

Matched Pictures, scenes in the Wild West. Price 25 cents; 30 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 7 cents.

Forty rectangular pieces fit together in numerous ways, creating many different images.

Doll’s Dressmaking Bazaar. Price $1; $1.25 for new subscriptions. Shipping is 25 cents.

Paper doll heads, arms, legs, fabrics, laces, and decorations; an enormous variety. Patterns to cut out. Instructions. The figures are beautifully printed on glossy paper.

Interchangeable Combination Circus. Price $0.75; for $0.90 in new subscriptions. Postage $0.20.

A collection of images. The circus puts on any part of the show you pick, all while the audience cheers.

Evening Party. Price 25 cents; 30 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 6 cents.

A box full of games, puzzles, charades, rebuses, tricks, conundrums, etc.; a house full of laughter and fun.

[5p]

Checker and Backgammon boards come in hinged boxes, complete with dice cups and pieces. No. 1 measures 8x14 inches when closed and costs $1, or $1.25 with new subscriptions. Postage is 25 cents. No. 2 measures 7x12 inches and is priced at 75 cents, or 90 cents with new subscriptions. Postage is 20 cents. No. 3 measures 6x10½ inches and costs 50 cents, or 60 cents with new subscriptions. Postage is 12 cents. They also vary in wood and finish.

Kindergarten souvenir material (Bradley’s). A colored card with diagrams and illustrations that helps children learn to cut, fold, embroider, and create a wide range of beautiful and useful items. Comes in a generous box. Price is $1; $1.25 for new subscriptions. Postage is 26 cents.

Chess Men. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 10 cents.

Building Blocks. Price 25 and 50 cents; for 30 and 60 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 30 and 60 cents. Express shipping may be less.

As many blocks as cents; not painted.

Fascinator, balls, and cues, whether indoors or outdoors. The guys will get the rest from the picture. Price: $1; for $1.25 with new subscriptions.

Teaches coordination between eyes and hands.

Kindergarten Occupation. Price $1; for $1.25 in new subscriptions. Postage 32 cents.

Weaving, embroidering, ring-making, stick-making, etc. A big box of supplies with instructions.

Pitch-a-Ring and Ring Toss. Price $1; for $1.25 in new subscriptions. Postage 40 cents—express may be less.

The rings are made colorful and soft with woven cotton, and the box they come in acts as the base.

Go Bang, Tivoli, and Fox and Geese. Price $1.25; or $1.50 for new subscriptions. Postage 33 cents.

Leather-covered two-book-shaped box, 2x7½x14 inches, turned wood men.

Parcheesi. Price $1; $1.25 for new subscriptions. Postage 25 cents.

Size of closed board 9.5 x 18.5 x 0.375 inches. Brass-bound paper pieces; dice boxes.

Checkered Game of Life. Price $1; for $1.25 with new subscriptions. Postage 15 cents.

Size of closed board 8x16⅜ inches; wooden pieces; counters; spinning top.

[6p]

Set of Games No. 1, each in a box: A lot of puzzles; Old Maid; Round Up; Five Senses; Old Salt’s Yarn; Auction; Scramble; Steeple-Chase. Price 15 cents each; any three for 50 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 3 cents each.

Set of Games No. 2, each in a small box: Old Maid; Jack Straws; Fortunes; Seth Spook’s Visit to Chicago; Beast, Bird, Fish; Go Bang; Selected Authors; Riddles; Optical Illusions; Tortoise and Hare; Siege; Historical Dates. 6 cents each; any four for 30 cents with new subscriptions. Postage is 5 cents for the four.

Old Maid is better than ever. Price: 25 cents; 30 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 4 cents.

Solitaire. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 25 cents.

With bowls for marbles in use and a drawer.

Perfection folding table. Price $1.25; for $1.50 with new subscriptions. By express.

Top 19x30 inches and adjustable to eight heights between 23½ and 29 inches. Half-inch measure and checkers on it.

Postage stamp collection book with designated spaces for 2400 stamps and 264 engravings. Price is 50 cents (75 cents for cloth binding); new subscriptions are 60 cents (90 cents for cloth binding). Postage is 5 cents.

One hundred postage stamps to start; price 25 cents; for 30 cents in new subscriptions.

Savings Bank. Price $1; for $1.25 in new subscriptions. Postage 17 cents.

The music and dancing last for half a minute after you put in a penny. It runs like clockwork. It's well-made and not likely to break down. The music is all in your head, except for the sound of the dancer's feet.

Printing outfit. Price $2.50; for $3 in new subscriptions.

Consists of a simple, compact printing press, including a roller, one font of type, one type case, leads, furniture, ink, and fifty cards. The total weight is around seven pounds. A boy with the necessary skills can handle small printing jobs with it. The size of the chase is 2x3½ inches.

Woods Air Line Gun. Price $1; for $1.10 with new subscriptions. Shipping $0.30.

The “barrel” is a straight wire; the bullet is a wooden spool; the force is a coil of steel wire. The target has a pocket to catch the bullets. It also serves as a torpedo target.

Bullets for the Woods gun; 25 for 10 cents; for 15 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 5 cents.

[7p]

Doll’s Britannia Tea set. Price: 25 cents; for 35 cents with new subscriptions. Postage: 12 cents.

About 20 pieces, teapot 3 inches high.

Sand-mill, which is a water-wheel powered by sand instead of water, features a wooden figure acting like it's turning the crank outside. The mechanical boy will set up a pulley and manage to get quite a bit of work done with it. Playing in the sand is the main fun activity for kids at the beach.

Price: 25 cents; 35 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 15 cents.

Toy scales
6½ inches long.
Price 25 cents;
for 35 cents in
new subscriptions.
Postage
17 cents.

Locomotive and tender made of durable iron with a shiny finish and gold accents. The connecting rods move, the wheels spin, and the bell rings. It's 20 inches long and weighs seven pounds. Nothing as sturdy and realistic has ever been made for this price. Price is $2; $2.50 for new subscriptions. Orders from the West are filled from Chicago to save on shipping.

Whistle. Price 30 cents; for 35 cents for new subscriptions.

Celluloid; it looks like ivory. Trills.

Musical top. Price: 30 cents; 35 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 4 cents.

Reeds inside it sing as it spins and change their notes with a touch.

Locomotive 12-inch. Price $2; for $2.50 with new subscriptions. Postage 35 cents.

Goes by like clockwork. The bell in the cab rings loudly.

Locomotive engine 10 inches long. Price $1; for $1.25 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.30.

Goes like clockwork. The bell doesn't ring.

Weeden engine. Price $1.25; for $1.35 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.35.

Quite an elaborate, attractive, and well-constructed engine, 8½ inches tall, featuring a safety valve, whistle, smoke stack, thumb screws to control steam and whistle, a heavy flywheel, and a double pulley. Runs for half an hour on one fueling and watering. Made of nickel-plated tin and brass. Has enough power for a wide range of fun activities.

Engine. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 5 cents.

A bit rough, but a boy can carve it smooth; 5 inches tall; with all the essential parts. Runs as long as the water and alcohol last and operates some light machinery. Even this is enough to reveal a boy with a talent for mechanics.

[8p]

Propeller “Neptune,” a 10-inch long metal boat with an engine powerful enough to zip across the mill pond for 20 to 30 minutes. Not actually iron; mostly brass; the hull is painted black with a red stripe along the edge. A cheeky little vessel, but definitely not dangerous.

Price $2.25; for $2.50 in new subscriptions. Shipping is 15 cents.

Revolving Wall Blackboard and desk slate. Price $0.50; for $0.60 with new subscriptions.

Size 16½x17 inches, including the frame and trough for the eraser and crayons. Outline designs on the frame for drawing.

Doll’s Folding Chair. Price 25 cents; for 30 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 7 cents.

Natural cherry, surprisingly well-crafted and smooth. The seat is made of nice cretonne. Total height is 11½ inches.

Doll’s High Chair with table-leaf and wooden tea set. Price 25 cents; for 30 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 11 cents.

Delicately crafted from high-quality white wood, printed to resemble a cane seat, etc.

It comes “flat,” and Dolly’s uncle assembles it. It’s a foot and a half tall.

Doll’s Chamber Set. Price $1; $1.25 with new subscriptions.

Cherry, four pieces: bed frame 17x8x9 inches, dresser with shiny tin mirror, nice folding chair and table. All come “flat” and assemble easily.

Doll’s Carriage. Price 25 cents; for 30 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 8 cents. A folding easy chair on wheels; made of nice white wood; has a pretty cretonne seat; arms made with bright silk cord.

Dolly’s Own Album of almost two hundred transfer pictures; 7 cents; for 10 cents with new subscriptions.

Folding Desk Blackboard with a rolling sheet of over a hundred designs for drawing. Price $1; for $1.25 with new subscriptions.

Height: 3 feet; blackboard: 14x18 inches.

[9p]

Doll’s Cradle. Price: 25 cents; for 30 cents with new subscriptions. Postage: 15 cents.

White-wood, 7.5 x 8.5 x 16 inches. Comes "flat."

Sliced Animals. Price 30 cents; or 40 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 12 cents.

Colored pictures of animals on strips of cardboard with letters at one end. When the strips are assembled correctly, the animal's name appears as well.

Sliced Objects. Price: 30 cents; 40 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 12 cents.

Yacht, engine, boat, car, fort, church, house, dam, bridge, coach, fountain, statue; all on strips and mixed together.

Sliced Birds. Price: 30 cents; 40 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 12 cents.

Britannia Collapsing Cup in a tin box. Price 20 cents; for 25 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 7 cents.

Nickel Collapsing Cup in a watch-case. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 7 cents.

Dominoes. Price $0.50; $0.60 for new subscriptions. Shipping $0.15.

In a tidy and sturdy wooden box.

Triumph Toy Clothes-Wringer, great for small items as well as for doll clothes. Rolls three inches long. Works perfectly. Price: 50 cents; 60 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 15 cents.

Doll, No. 204, 20½ inches tall, undressed, except for a chemise with lace and ribbon trim, bisque head, arms, and legs, washable. Price $1.25; $1.50 with new subscriptions. Postage 30 cents.

Dressed Doll Nellie, 14 inches tall, in a complete summer dress adorned with lace and ribbons, a hat, lace stockings, and leather shoes; bisque head, arms, and legs. Price $1.25; $1.50 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.25.

In-door Ball. Price 25 cents; 30 cents with new subscriptions.

Super light rubber, 3¼-inch inflated.

Doll's Tea Set. Price $1.25; $1.60 with new subscriptions.

China, cheerfully decorated, 20 to 25 pieces. Cups about 2 inches across; teapot 5 inches high.

Drawing Teacher. Price 25 cents; for 30 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 7 cents.

Thick paper stencils for pencil drawings; designs; a stock of appropriate paper.

[10p]

Drum. Price $1.25; for $1.50 with new subscriptions.

Hammered brass body; sheepskin heads; red, white, and blue cords and belt; 13 inches.

Daisy Ten-pins. Price $0.50; for $0.60 with new subscriptions. Shipping $0.30.

The pins are printed images of boys and girls in festive outfits, and the balls are solid gold.

Tin Kitchen. Price 60 cents; for 75 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 30 cents.

Size 7x12x4 inches; about 20 pieces; pump moves water.

Fire Engine. Price $6; for $6.50 in new subscriptions.

Pumps from a reservoir and simultaneously releases a continuous stream. It includes a boiler, engine, force pump, water and steam gauges, air chamber, hose, and hose pipe. Size is 5x10½x9 inches, not including the pole. The machine is excellent; the engraving isn’t very good.

Doll’s Head No. 38-24, bisque, 3 inches wide across the shoulders. Price 30 cents; for 40 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 7 cents.

Doll's Head No. 710, bisque, 3½ inches, closing eyes, fine curls. Price: 75 cents; just $1 with new subscriptions. Postage: 8 cents.

Doll’s Wash-set. Price $0.25; for $0.35 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.30.

Tub 9 x 5 inches. The wringer doesn’t work.

Fairy Sewing Machine. Price $3; for $3.25 with new subscriptions. Postage 35 cents.

Actually sews, and is really useful to put in one’s trunk for a summer trip—the best hand sewing machines are pointless at home.

This isn’t silly because it teaches the doll's mom to cut and make her own dresses. It's a great toy for an industrious little girl, although we assume it's made for serious use. Size 5x6 inches.

Japanese Tivoli, Price 25 cents; for 30 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 20 cents.

Jap is lying on his back with his heels up, a marble resting in the bowl of his boots. Tommy presses the spring and counts based on where the marble lands.

[11p]

Large Jack-knife. Price 75 cents; 90 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 4 cents.

Bull’s-eye lantern. Price 75 cents; 90 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 20 cents.

For hand or belt; 3-inch lens.

A complete photography set for $2.50—Horsman’s “Eclipse”—for $2.75 with new subscriptions.

There’s nothing better for under $10. It’s not suitable for portraits but works fine for scenes with people or groups. In other words, it captures poses and appearances accurately, but not the subtle details of expressions or features. For just ten cents, we’ll send you two sample photos (the largest size, 3x4 inches) taken with it.

An average 12-year-old can use it effectively and take pictures that are just as good as those taken with any $10 camera.

The kit includes a small camera wrapped in faux leather, six quick-dry plates, two metal trays with a black finish, two bottles of developer, a package of hypo-sulfite of soda, a printing frame, six sheets of silver paper, six sheets of blueprint paper, a bottle of toning solution, a dozen card mounts, a plate lifter, a sheet of red paper, instructions for making an inexpensive red lamp, and complete guidance for every part of the process. It weighs about 3½ pounds; postage is $0.60—express shipping might be cheaper.

After supplies—Details in a circular sent upon request.

Footballs, available in two sizes: 6 inches and 9 inches. Prices are $1 and $1.50; for $1.25 and $1.75 with new subscriptions. Postage for either is 10 cents.

Made of thick canvas covered in rubber, durable, inflated with a key.

Village Blacksmith. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 10 cents.

The blower operates the bellows and the blacksmith swings his hammer. Powered by the engine.

Fishing outfit. Price $1.15; for $1.35 with new subscriptions. Postage 20 cents.

12-foot jointed rod, brass tips and ferrules, bob, sinkers, 36-foot line, dozen assorted hooks, pickerel trolling hook, ganged hooks with hair or gut snell, flies, and bait box. Neat and sturdy.

“Winchester” double-barrel Rifle. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 15 cents.

A pretty simple gun. Covered with a rubber spring.

Wilcox target gun. Price $1; $1.25 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.20.

Covered rubber spring; removable cross piece; bayonet; breech box for darts and targets.

“Dr. Carver” Gun. Price $0.50; for $0.60 in new subscriptions. Postage $0.17.

A brutal rubber band gun that can be adjusted for power.

[12p]

“World” Typewriter. Price $8; or $10 with new subscriptions.

It is with complete satisfaction, as unexpected as it was, that we add this machine to the list.

It prints more neatly and perfectly than the Remington; not as fast and not as easily. A scholar’s typewriter; a typewriter for business that doesn’t require speed or a high volume of work. Anyone wanting a typewriter but who doesn’t use it enough to justify spending a hundred dollars on one, is exactly the person for whom this machine is perfect.

Nobody wants to spend time getting good at a typewriter if it won't lead to anything afterward. The main value of the "World" is its speed, which is around twenty to thirty words per minute. We've heard that it's possible to reach sixty words a minute, but we definitely know thirty is achievable. Weight in the box: 5 lbs.

We can't sell it for money; only through subscriptions.

Wringer with folding bench. Price $6; for $6.50 with new subscriptions.

Better than a tub wringer; more convenient; more durable. Overall, the best device for wringing. It folds into a compact size. The ideal spot for it is where the family handles its chores and wants the best facilities.

Wringer. Price $2.75; for $3.50 with new subscriptions. The easiest wringer to use. Just place it on the tub, and the wringing pressure is activated. Remove it from the tub, and the pressure is gone. Because of this, the rolls are less likely to get damaged from careless or uninformed handling compared to any other type of wringer.

Orchestra. Price $1; $1.10 for new subscriptions. Postage 7 cents.

Lithographed figures on blocks operated by cranks and a belt from the engine.

Musician. Price: 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions. Postage: 5 cents.

Worked by a belt from the engine.

Sawyer. Price 40 cents; for 50 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 3 cents.

Worked by a belt from the engine.

Bradley's Authors. Price: 50 cents; 60 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 7 cents.

The best game of the name [there are many]; and the best materials; waterproof cards.

Tennis outfit. Price $20; $30 with new subscriptions.

Consists of 4 “Standard” rackets, 6 regulation balls, a regulation net 36x3 feet, poles, stakes, ropes, pegs, a mallet, and a rulebook.

“Standard” tennis racket. Price $3; for $4 with new subscriptions. Shipping 15 cents.

“Peerless” tennis racket. Price $5.50; $7.50 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.15.

Croquet set for eight players. Price $3; or $4 with new subscriptions.

Maple tree.

[13p]

Luminous Match-safe. Price: 20 cents; 25 cents with new subscriptions. Postage: 3 cents.

The word MATCHES glows brightly at night, guiding you to the box.

Monogram-stamping service. Two letters for 50 cents, three letters for 80 cents; just 60 cents and $1 with new subscriptions. Postage for either is 5 cents.

Consists of a rubber stamp (any letters you want—letter size ½ inch), permanent ink for clothing, red ink, bronze, and pads.

Watson’s book carrier. Price 25 cents; for 30 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 8 cents.

Set of four rubber combs in a convenient box. Price: 50 cents; or 65 cents with new subscriptions. Postage: 7 cents.

Coarse comb, fine comb, kids' comb, pocket comb.

Stamping kit for embroidery and more, a generous one. The creator says it's worth $5 but sells it for $1. For $1.10 in new subscriptions.

Daisy alphabet 2.5 inches tall; roses 8x14; pond lilies 17x7.5; pansies 3.5x6; stork 7x11; bird and cherries 6x7; etc, etc. (large enough pieces); powder, pads, instructions.

Pocket knife No. 836. Price $1.25; $1.50 for new subscriptions. Postage is 4 cents.

Pearl handle, elegant, sturdy, 3 inches long.

Magic Pocket-knife. Price 25 cents; for 30 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 2 cents.

Chased rubber handle with nickel trim. A delicate knife of average quality; not for whittling. Hold the blade-end down and press on top; the blade pops "open." Flip it to "shut" it.

Buttonhole shears. Price $1.25; for $1.50 with new subscriptions. Postage 3 cents.

Adjustable for the length of the hole with a gauge for measurement.

Shears. Price 80 cents; for $1 for new subscriptions. Postage 7 cents.

Japanned handles and nickel-plated blades; 8 inches long.

Scissors. Price $0.80; for $1 on new subscriptions. Postage $0.03.

Nickeled.

Ladies' pearl-handle knife. Price $1.50; for $1.75 with new subscriptions. Postage 3 cents.

Terry's; length 2.5 inches; detailed design and finish.

Magic Slate cleaner; price 6 cents; for 10 cents with new subscriptions.

A wooden water bottle with a valve in the cork and a sponge on the side. You touch the slate with the point and release a drop of water. Then you use the sponge.

[14p]

Caw Stylographic Pen. Price $1.50; $1.75 for new subscriptions. Postage 3 cents.

To someone who writes a lot, a stylograph is really handy. It's basically an ink pencil. There are many brands. The Caw is the simplest; probably the best, since sellers claim that nobody has any complaints about it.

Ladies’ gold pen with pearl holder. Price $2.25; available for $3.00 with new subscriptions. Shipping is 3 cents.

Gold-plated pencil. Price 50 cents; 75 cents for new subscriptions.

Gold-plated pencil watch charm. Price 50 cents; for 75 cents with new subscriptions.

Perfection Hammock—and the hammock lives up to its name—has knots throughout and doesn’t slip; it’s soft, stretchy, incredibly strong, with galvanized iron rings at both ends. A perfect hammock.

There’s just as much variation in hammocks as there is in “easy” chairs. Some are far from easy. No one truly understands how comfortable a hammock can be until they’ve drifted off to sleep in this perfect setting.

Hammock spreader. Price $0.35 per pair; for $0.50 with new subscriptions. Shipping $0.25.

A hammock is much better with a spreader.

There’s an outdoor doormat so effective that every civilized door that has to deal with muddy shoes—there are thousands of those—will eventually have it. And one is all you need; it lasts indefinitely.

There’s nothing else quite as good. It almost cleans itself. A jar gets rid of the worst and thickest mud.

The Hartman steel-wire mat. A flexible, springy wire surface to walk on—galvanized spring-steel wire—no rust, no wear—like a wire mattress but thicker and more compact. You can scrape on it, step on it, stamp on it, and walk on it without worry. The stickiest mud turns into harmless dust underneath and is easily swept away the next morning. A detailed report on it is available upon request.

The price of the mat is $4, give or take depending on the size. The $4 size is a decent one, 22x30 inches. You earn it by bringing in $4.50 in new subscriptions. To save on shipping, we send it from the nearest manufacturer's office to you.

The producers are doing everything they can to meet the rapid demand from the cities. They would be swamped if the rural areas were just as prepared. But where is a perfect mat most beneficial, where there are sidewalks or no sidewalks?

Postage stamp holder inside your wallet. Price 15 cents; 20 cents for new subscriptions.

Nickel; the picture shows it opened inside a wallet. It's more useful than you'd expect for its price.

[15p]

Bissell Carpet Sweeper. Price $3; for $3.25 with new subscriptions.

Not a housewife wealthy enough to have a carpet would go without a vacuum if she knew how much easier a good one makes cleaning day.

It cleans better than a broom and is simpler to use, creates no dust, and does about 90% of the work, leaving just an inch or two along the edges of a room and in small corners—these still need to be swept with a broom—and it releases the dust with a push on a spring as shown in the picture. That band around the cleaner is a rubber cushion to prevent it from damaging furniture.

Three-quarters of all the carpet sweepers in the world are produced by one factory, the Bissell Carpet Sweeper Company in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Naturally, they make quality products. The reality is, they hold the rights to the truly helpful inventions, and no one else is permitted to produce quality sweepers at all. However, their prices are reasonable.

There are different styles and sizes. We select the best brush with a standard finish.

Cabinet Book Rack. Price $2; for $2.25 with new subscriptions.

Maple, smooth finish, brass trimmings, lock, and assembles without nails or screws; 24x23x6½ inches; packs flat.

Shawl strap. Price 25 cents; 30 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 6 cents.

The tapes are tightened by turning the handle.

Common shawl-strap. Price 35 cents; for 50 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 6 cents.

Leather handle and straps to buckle.

Desk and blackboard combined. Price: $2; $2.50 for new subscriptions.

Ash with walnut trim, top of enameled fabric, lock, pigeonholes, 25x25x19 inches; packs flat.

“Favorite” table with drawer, covered with enameled cloth, 31x27x19 inches, chestnut. Price $1.50; or $1.75 with new subscriptions.

Ice Cream Freezer, the best one we know of. 2-quart; price $2.25; for $2.75 with new subscriptions. 3-quart; price $2.75; for $3.25 with new subscriptions. 4-quart; price $3.50; for $4 with new subscriptions. 6-quart; price $4.25; for $5 with new subscriptions. 10-quart; price $7.75; for $8.75 with new subscriptions. Designed to deliver the best results. The tub is made of clear pine and is waterproof; the metal parts are made of malleable iron and plated with tin. [Zinc creates a poisonous oxide.]

[16p]

Kaleidoscope. Price $3; for $3.25 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.30.

The name is meant to represent beautiful views. The kaleidoscope creates beautiful images. We owe it for its unique combinations of color and shape in geometric patterns. Chance is the foundation of everything. By removing two small screws, you uncover the simple secret.

Spy-glass 15 inches long drawn out and 6 inches closed, the object-glass magnifies 13 times (according to the maker). Price $2.50; $3.25 for new subscriptions. Postage 12 cents.

Spyglass a little bigger, magnifies 16 times (the maker claims). Price $3.50; $4.25 for new subscriptions. Postage 13 cents.

Spy-glass 30 inches long when extended and 10 inches when closed, with a 1⅝-inch objective lens, said to magnify 25 times. Price $7; for $8.50 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.50—express may be less.

Two lenses mounted in brass; one with the highest possible power for clear objects; the other with a wider field on a stand for general use. Price for both together is 50 cents. For 60 cents with new subscriptions.

Pocket Magnifying Glass, three lenses, horn case. Price $0.90; for $1.10 in new subscriptions.

Square Reading Glass. Price $2; for $2.25 with new subscriptions. Postage 10 cents.

1¾x3½-inch double-convex lens.

Reading glass. Price $1.50; $1.75 for new subscriptions. Postage 10 cents.

2.875-inch lens.

Stereoscope on a stand. Price $1.25, or $1.50 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.25.

Better Stereoscope. Price $1.25; for $1.50 with new subscriptions. Shipping cost is 20 cents.

Half a dozen Stereoscopic Views. Price 40 cents; 50 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 5 cents.

Microscope. Price 60 cents; 75 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 4 cents.

Microscope No. 42½. Price $0.85; for $1 in new subscriptions. Postage $0.04.

[17p]

Lester Scroll Saw and Lathe. Price $10; $12 for new subscriptions.

Considered the best and most comprehensive saw you can get for under $20.

With a nickel-plated tilting table; a roller in the back of the table that makes the saw operate very smoothly; clamps that can hold any thickness of saw; clamps adjustable right or left, forward or back to keep the blade perfectly aligned; featuring a 3-inch circular saw on a 3x4-inch iron table that can cut half-inch lumber; a solid emery wheel; a drilling attachment with six Stubbs drills; a lathe attachment with iron ways and rests, steel centers, and three fine turning tools—bed length of 15 inches, distance between centers of 9 inches, swing of 3 inches, length of slide-rest of 4 inches; six saw blades, a wrench, a screwdriver, two sheets of designs; a tidy box for small tools; and a guide.

A very important recent invention used in this machine is a clamp and strainer in one, which, with a press of a lever, instantly clamps and strains the saw blade. The impressive accuracy of this saw is thanks to the roller in the table, another recent invention.

Bracket-saw kit. Price $1.25; for $1.50 with new subscriptions. Shipping is 18 cents.

Nickel-plated spring-steel saw frame, 5x12 inches, featuring unique clamps, six saw blades, an awl, sheet of carbon paper, and fifty full-size designs.

Bracket-work Drill No. 4. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 12 cents.

Iron 8-inch drill stock, steel chuck, and six points.

Carving tools. Price $1; for $1.25 in new subscriptions. Postage 10 cents.

Rosewood handles, high-quality tools, and already sharp.

Rogers Scroll Saw. Price $3.50; for $4.25 with new subscriptions.

The best of the affordable saws.

All parts made of iron; nicely finished; interchangeable parts; bearings perfectly aligned; with a blower; a jointed stretcher-rod; clamps with a hinged jaw to prevent the blade from tipping, minimizing friction, strain, and frequent breakage; a 4¼-inch balance wheel with a solid emery rim; a drilling attachment on the right; and the entire machine is secured by screw-bolts wherever necessary—no pins; includes six saw blades, a wrench, a design sheet, and three drill points. It looks good, is compact, sturdy, efficient, user-friendly, stable, and long-lasting. Weight in the box is 36 pounds.

Keyhole Saw and 6 blades. Price 40 cents; 60 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 5 cents.

The blade, which is 8½ inches long, can be placed in the handle so that only the tip sticks out.

Saw-blades, ½ gross assorted sizes. Price 65 cents; offered for 85 cents with new subscriptions.

Manual of Wood-carving by Charles Leland. Price: 35 cents; for 50 cents with new subscriptions.

Graves' Automatic Drill-stock and a dozen points. Price $1; for $1.25 with new subscriptions. Postage 5 cents.

Drills with one hand the most delicate wood without splitting. Can be used where a bit brace, gimlet, or brad awl are not available.

Glass-cutter, Knife-sharpener, Can-opener, Corkscrew. Price 10 cents; for 15 cents with new subscriptions.

[18p]

Tool-holder No. 5. Price $1.50; for $2 in new subscriptions. Postage 10 cents.

Rosewood 7½-inch handle holds the tools; nickel-plated steel chuck; nine fine 4-inch tools. Essential.

Glass cutter and putty knife. Price 10 cents; for 15 cents with new subscriptions.

Better than a diamond in the hands of someone who doesn't know how to handle it.

Numerical frame; 60 cents; for 75 cents in new subscriptions. Postage 25 cents.

An arithmetic school and a pretty, interesting toy. The frame is made of maple, and the balls are red, green, and black.

Tip-Top self-inking one-line stamp. Price 60 cents; 70 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 4 cents.

With two lines of text; 75 cents; for 85 cents for new subscriptions.

With three lines of small text; 85 cents; for $1 in new subscriptions.

Wax night-lights. Price 40 cents for a dozen in a box; 60 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 8 cents.

Burn eight hours each with a steady little light, no smoke or smell.

Night lamp with a shade to soften the light. Price $1; $1.25 for new subscriptions. Postage is 23 cents.

For burning wax lights. Not necessary; the lights can stand in a saucer.

Family printing outfit for marking linen, printing cards, etc. Price $1.50; for $2 in new subscriptions. Postage 11 cents.

Nickel-plated holder, movable rubber type on a metal body, pads, tweezers, permanent ink.

Dover Egg Beater. Price: 50 cents; 60 cents for new subscriptions.

The best there is for a few eggs.

Binder for magazines. Price: 75 cents; $1 with new subscriptions. Postage: 15 cents.

Almost like book-binding, as shown in the cut. One style stamped Wide Awake; another The Pansy.

Ready Binder for papers and pamphlets; length 8 inches. Price 8 cents; 10 cents for new subscriptions.

Lambie’s Dictionary holder. Price $5; $5.50 for new subscriptions.

Beyond all comparison, the best of them all. Adjustable to the size of the book, the height of the stand, and the angle at which the book is held. It revolves. On casters.

[19p]

Beginnings with the Microscope, a practical handbook, by Walter P. Manton, M.D. Price $0.50; $0.60 for new subscriptions.

Practical Boat-Sailing, on small boats and yachts, with a glossary of nautical terms, by Douglas Frazar. Price $1; for $1.20 with new subscriptions.

Hunter’s Handbook, by an experienced hunter. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents for new subscriptions.

Hints about camping and living in the woods.

Handbook of Wood Engraving, by William A. Emerson, wood engraver. Price $1; for $1.20 in new subscriptions.

Taxidermy without a Teacher: an illustrated guide on how to prepare and preserve birds, animals, fish, eggs, and skeletons; with recipes. By Walter P. Manton. Price 50 cents; 60 cents for new subscriptions.

Field Botany, an illustrated handbook for collectors, includes instructions for gathering and preserving plants for the herbarium, as well as guidance on leaf photography, plant printing, and skeletonizing leaves. By Walter P. Manton. Price 50 cents; 60 cents for new subscriptions.

Lessons in Candy Making. By Catherine Owen. Price 50 cents; 60 cents for new subscriptions.

The author says, “I’ve written these lessons for smart women who can’t leave home to help them earn money.” And she quotes from an English woman who read her work, “I can make candies as delicious as any I’ve ever had in Paris.”

For a similar reason, we included her book in the List.

Insects: how to catch and prepare them for the Cabinet; an illustrated book of instructions for the field naturalist. By Walter P. Manton. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents in new subscriptions.

Shakespeare. Price $8; $10 for new subscriptions. Shipped at the recipient's expense.

Handy Volume edition; 13 compact volumes, flexible, cloth.

Mayflower Pocket Cook-Stove and Boiler. Price: 50 cents; 60 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 10 cents.

All nickel-plated; lasts about ½ hour.

Larger Pocket Cook Stove. Price $1; $1.25 for new subscriptions. Shipping is 20 cents.

With a quart boiler and a grill. Heats enough water for a cup of coffee in five minutes.

Alcohol flask for pocket stove. Price 25 cents; 30 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 5 cents.

Lambie’s rotating bookstand and dictionary holder. Price $9; $10 with new subscriptions. Shipped by express.

Size of bookcase: 16x16 inches. The upper shelf is also available.

Universal Garden-tool. Price $1; for $1.25 in new subscriptions. Postage 35 cents—express may be less.

Many great tools in one: the hoe is also a spade, shovel, scraper, and ice-cutter; the rake also serves as a fork and hook—there might be other uses as well. The dotted lines indicate where both tools are positioned on the handle.

[20p]

We applaud the following seven even more because the market is filled with pretentious products under similar names that hold very little value. These exactly match the descriptions provided. Circular sent on request.

Whiting’s Indelible Laundry Ink, for easy marking without any prep. Price is 25 cents; 35 cents for new subscriptions.

Whiting’s Magic Indelible Ink, designed for marking tough materials without needing to worry about sun or heat exposure. Price: 60 cents; 80 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 10 cents.

Whiting’s Etching Ink for etching on linen, includes a set of pens and “preparation.” Price $1; or $1.10 for new subscriptions. Postage 10 cents.

Whiting’s Tracing Box. Price $1; $1.35 for new subscriptions.

The glass measures 8x12 inches. It must be sent via express shipping.

Whiting's Etching Designs are available for $1 for every $1.10 in new subscriptions. Request the list to get started.

Whiting’s Transparent Colors for coloring photographs; box of ten colors. Price $3; for $3.25 with new subscriptions.

Half-case with five colors. Price $1.75; for $2 in new subscriptions. Must be sent by express.

Whiting’s Special Instructions for etching on linen. Price $1; for $1.10 with new subscriptions.

Towel holder. Price 15 cents; for 20 cents with new subscriptions.

Nickel; about the size of a silver dollar.

Splasher-bracket. Price: 30 cents; for 35 cents with new subscriptions. Postage: 7 cents.

Black inch pegs; nickel-plated 33-inch rod.

Towel rack. Price: 30 cents; for 35 cents with new subscriptions. Shipping: 6 cents.

The pegs are painted black; the rod is shiny nickel, 18 inches long.

Roll Dressing Case. Price $6; for $7.50 with new subscriptions. Shipping is 15 cents.

Box dressing case. Price $6; for $7.50 with new subscriptions. Postage 15 cents.

Both of the above are nice and sturdy leather cases with top-quality interiors, but without being overly extravagant.

Perfection Lemon Squeezer. Price: 35 cents; for 40 cents with new subscriptions. Postage: 6 cents.

Not a squeezer at all, but better. Squeeze half a lemon over the burr and twist it around with your hand.

The burr cuts the pulp, releases the juice, and collects it all without squeezing the bitter oil from the lemon peel. No seeds, no waste, no splattering.

Cold stove-door Knob. Cost 6 cents; for 8 cents with new subscriptions.

Wood handle; hangs on the knob, prevents burning fingers.

Dustpan. Price 25 cents; 35 cents for new subscriptions. Postage 12 cents.

Japanned-steel; propped up behind in position to use so that one doesn't need to bend down to hold it by hand—a tap with the foot is all it takes.

[21p]

Kerosene-brick for burning kerosene in any cook stove, heater, or open fireplace, as a kindler or fuel. Porous fire brick.

We don’t know its maximum value yet, since we’ve only just obtained it. It’s definitely safe—that’s for sure. It’s the best igniter ever found—no question about that. But how much it will be used for summer fuel or various temporary uses remains unclear. It’s a new and extremely important discovery everywhere. So, we’ll carefully share what we know about it.

The reason it doesn’t explode is that the oil is trapped in the brick's pores and can only escape slowly when heated. Kerosene lamps are risky, but you're cautious with them. There’s no way for the kerosene-brick to explode. The only risk comes from storing more kerosene for fuel than you would for lighting. The point is that a barrel is just as dangerous as a pint. Either amount can easily blow a house into splinters.

The reason it's the best kindler is that it's the cheapest—in other ways, it's not really much better than pitch-pine.

Tradespeople tend to exaggerate how inexpensive it is; but it is really affordable—how affordable depends, of course, on the price of your kerosene; and that varies so much in different areas of the country that we can't specify the cost of using the kerosene-brick. It saves its cost in wood maybe ten times over.

It creates smoke and soot, but they go up the chimney.

The first cost of the kerosene-brick is as follows:[A]

No. 1.   Price 35 cents; for 40 cents with new subscriptions.
No. 2.   Price 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions.
No. 3.   Price 75 cents; for 85 cents with new subscriptions.
No. 4.   Price $1.20; for $1.35 with new subscriptions.
No. 5.   Price $1.75; for $2 with new subscriptions.
No. 6.   Price $1.50; for $1.70 with new subscriptions.

And you need a special type of tongs (see the image) for handling the kerosene-brick. Price is 25 cents; for 30 cents with new subscriptions.

To save on shipping costs, we send from the manufacturer's closest location (the nearest one to you) no matter where that is.

There’s going to be a kerosene brick that looks like wood for use in fireplaces. It’s not made yet and might not be very easy to fill. By the way, we haven’t mentioned how to fill the kerosene brick.

“No. 1” above means a tin can with three small kerosene bricks in it. You take out one of the bricks, fill the can with kerosene, and let it sit for fifteen minutes or overnight. The two bricks are ready for use at any time and can stay like that indefinitely. The smallest is big enough for kindling. Maker’s circular sent.

Ignites with a match. You put it out by dipping it in water. Throwing water on it doesn't put it out.

Set of small flower garden tools. Price: 30 cents; 40 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 18 cents.

Good tools and large enough; hoe and rake 14-inch, blades 3½-inch; fork and trowel 11-inch.

Spice-Box. Price $0.75; $0.85 for new subscriptions. Postage $0.25.

Japanned tin, 7-inch and 2-inch.

Vegetable masher, sauce strainer, and versatile squeezer for twenty different uses. Price: 65 cents; 75 cents for new subscriptions. Postage: 18 cents.

Large enough for two or three small potatoes. Honestly, it’s not just a potato masher. It transforms potatoes into a different kind of food that’s lighter, fluffier, and more textured. Put them in while they’re steaming hot; make sure the masher itself is hot too; serve the delicate result in a warm dish and cover it right away. If there’s one downside to this fantastic tool, it’s that it tends to cool the potatoes down.

Le Page’s Glue. Price 20 cents; for 25 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 5 cents.

Doubtless the strongest glue as well as the most available. Liquid and as it is used, unless chilled or thick, when warm it a little, or add vinegar. In a handy tin can with a screw top.

Mends dishes; not glass because it's not see-through. When diluted enough, it makes excellent glue. Every household should have it.

Turnover Broiler that keeps the gravy off the fire and on the meat. Price $0.65; or $0.75 with new subscriptions. Postage $0.24.

Of smooth, light sheet metal with plenty of holes, and the holes are shaped so that none of the gravy is lost. It improves good steak and pays for itself in a week.

[22p]

Bartlett Domestic Press. Price $1.50; for $2 on new subscriptions.

For meats, jellies, wine, cider, etc. Easily cleaned. You can easily achieve a pressure of a thousand pounds by turning the crank without risking damage to the press.

Daisy Pillow-sham Holder. Price $1; for $1.10 with new subscriptions.

Out of sight, keeps the pillow shams in place during the day, and lifts them out of the way at night. It's lightweight, convenient, fits any bed frame, and saves time and money. The best solution for the job. By express.

Crumb tray and brush. Price 60 cents; for 75 cents with new subscriptions. Shipping 15 cents.

Prettily painted tin tray and a good brush.

Self-winding tape measure, with a mirror on one side and a perpetual calendar on the other. Price 25 cents; for 35 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 3 cents.

Self-winding tape measure, with brake. Price: 25 cents; for 35 cents with new subscriptions. Postage: 3 cents.

Neat, shiny nickel case. The stop keeps the tape in place wherever it's set.

Crochet Needles, dozen. Price 20 cents; for 25 cents with new subscriptions.

Nickeled, various sizes, perfect and smooth.

Mineral Cabinet, No. 1. Price $1; $1.25 for new subscriptions. Postage $0.14.

Another, No. 2, is similar but has different minerals; the terms are the same. No. 2 contains: opal agate, aragonite, milky quartz, cuprite, jasper, galena, sulfur, polished crocidolite, selenite, hematite, feldspar, fluorspar, variscite, argentite, chalcedony, petrified cedar, alabaster, lead carbonate, telluride ore, and muscovite. There’s a brief explanation of each specimen. Comes in a neat box with a clasp.

These cabinets consistently provide satisfaction in schools and homes.

Anything that kids wear from babyhood on, at the rate of $1 in clothing for $1.60 in new subscriptions.

The clothing comes from Best & Company, 60 West 23rd Street, New York. You request their catalog, choose what you want, and send your order to us along with payment and names, of course.

The reason we order from Best & Company is that they have the biggest selection and take care of a remote buyer just as if he were present in the store.

Most big city department stores carry some children’s clothing, but they usually don’t prioritize it. The quality tends to be poor, the materials cheap, and the styles often outdated if not “left over from last year.” It’s especially challenging to find girls’ clothing that meets expectations.

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Tammen’s Cabinet, forty smaller specimens. Price 60 cents; for 75 cents in new subscriptions.

Paper box with a sheet of explanations about where the minerals come from, what they're used for, etc.

Diamond Dyes. Price 10 cents per color; for 15 cents with new subscriptions.

Dyeing at home in a satisfying way is really easy and rewarding. Silk and woolen fabrics come out of the dye looking almost as good as new. For cotton, some colors need to be specially created. Wood stains are made from these dyes.

Diamond dyes are all-inclusive; that is, nothing more is needed to set the colors. It's actually just as easy to dye with most of the colors as it is to rinse or starch. Plus, you'll get complete instructions with the dyes.

The colors are: yellow, old gold, orange; green, olive green, dark green; pink, magenta, scarlet, crimson, cardinal, garnet, terracotta, maroon, dark wine; violet, plum, purple; light blue, navy blue, dark blue; slate, drab, black; and yellow for cotton, green for cotton, cardinal for cotton, scarlet for cotton, and blue for cotton.

Diamond dyes won't stain your hands or utensils if you use them with a bit of caution. You'll need to handle the materials with sticks until you get to the wringing.

Book-rack, No. 318. Price $0.50; for $0.60 with new subscriptions.

Maple; 18x24 inches; assembly is done neatly without nails or screws; it lays flat for easy storage.

Book rack, No. 424. Price $1; for $1.10 on new subscriptions.

Same, 23x32 inches, four shelves.

Book rack, No. 424½. Price $1.50; $1.65 for new subscriptions.

Same size as before, but with more effort put into it.

Knitting Outfit. Price $1; for $1.10 with new subscriptions. Shipping is 8 cents.

Consists of 2 balls of Florence silk, any colors you prefer, 5 needles, and an information booklet. Extra silk is 40 cents per ball; for 50 cents with new subscriptions.

Eagle Fine Arts pencils, polished cedar box of 7 grades. Price $1; for $1.25 with new subscriptions. Postage 5 cents.

As good as any, smooth and consistent, clean lead that can be erased without leaving any marks; for the highest standards. BBB to HHHHHH.

Eagle Fine Drawing pencils, a polished cedar box of 6 grades from extra-soft to extra-hard. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions. Postage 4 cents.

Eagle Best Colored Crayons:

Box of 24 colors. Price $1.75; $2 for new subscriptions. Shipping is 10 cents.

Box of 18 colors. Price $1.35; $1.50 for new subscriptions. Postage 8 cents.

Box of 12 colors. Price 90 cents; $1 for new subscriptions. Postage 6 cents.

Equivalent to watercolors. The complete range includes 50 colors.

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Eagle Scholastic Colored Crayons. Price 50 cents; for 60 cents with new subscriptions. Shipping 6 cents.

Paper box of 5 colors, same crayons as before, with 6 colored sketches and 12 outline designs made for kids’ use.

Eagle Eraser. Price: 10 cents; 15 cents for new subscriptions.

Automatic Drop pencil. Price 25 cents; for 35 cents with new subscriptions.