A Valentine to Ah, little boy Cupid, 1 know you well; ltut you re not as the poets say; You have no arrows, that 1 have seen, Though you captured my heart, one day. You wear more clothes than the pic tured I^>ve, And to call you blind were a sin; But 1 know you are Cupid, for no one else Such a number of hearts could win. For they all succumb to your winning wiles, The lassies, the maids, and the dames; Though Instead of “Cupid,” they call you "Pet." And “Honey,” and all such names. So I send you a valentine, Boy, today, To say you may keep my heart, For It must be yours forever and aye. Though I felt not the feathered dart. IDA’S VALENTINES. By M. Louise Foed. "Tomorrow’s Valentine's Day, mam ma, and oh, yon ought to see the big box teacher’s got on her desk for us to put our valentines In! Can I make some more tonight? I know how to make lovely ones!” and an eager little face looked up Into Mrs. Lane’s. Mamma stooped down and planted a kiss on the rosy cheek, saying: “Yes, Indeed, dear, as many as you please. But to whom are you going to send them all? iBn't you list about full? Have you remembered Kather ine and Annie as well as the others?” “Yes, mamma, and I'm going to make one for Alec Boles; he lsu't very bright, you know, and the boys make fun of him. I thought he'd like one. I don't believe he'll have any; and Kitty Welch has to stay at home now, 'cause her brother's got the measles, and so I thought I'd send her one, too.” replied Ida earnestly. “I am very glad you thought of them,” said her msmiua, ‘‘aud here I MAKINU IIKH VAI.KNTINKM •r* »un» Iliil* yktim I found iud*y. you way iu« tb»ia If you lib*." •*Oo, (Ml tltUl UliM J«Ml l*«*tt" *aeUla»*d Id* In bi*»i «in*. "V*n, Indaad. **l<*< Ully Ilk* on* Hint nuaa off lb* coady boa," **id wnwinn. with a awry iambi* In bar ay# Id* wm off l» a irka lo uotk* bar valaailaaa. nad *o baaily did aba aorb tk*t *b* bad tulla a baudful lo l*b* to at bool tail fcornina H«r **• atany 11*11* *«•*<-** *»* **** ter up to thu very time the bell rang, and Miss Walker kindly allowed the wonderful box to be opened before les sons were begun. Time after time Ida's name was called, until her desk was quite cov ered with big valentines and little ones, home made and store bought, some rather the worse for handling, and some fresh and clean In their white envelopes. “Seventeen!” she counted In sur prise, when the last one was distri buted, and the proud and happy little maiden looked around to see who had fared any better. “How many did you get?” "And you?" "Oh, Isn’t that a lovely one!” "I got most as many as you,” were the words heard on all sides, and the excitement had scarcely begun to sub side when Miss Walker struck the bell once more, and every valentine was put away till recess time. Only one little girl there was who had not a single valentine; she was a new scholar, a thin, sad-looklng child, with big brown eyes. Her dress was old and faded, and the first day she came to school, one little girl had whispered to another: "Josie Dean’s father drinks, I guess, ’cause 1 saw her with him last week, and he couldn’t walk straight.” That was. Indeed, the sad secret of Josie's home, and now, when all the others were happy with their valen tines, she was looking out of the win* dow, winking hard to keep back the tears. Not one valentine, did I say? Oh, yes, there was one of those dreadful ones children sometimes call "comic," with a coarse picture of a drunken man, with a bottle In his hand upon It. Home thoughtless boy had put that in the box for Josle Dean, and in delight she had responded to her name. But when she saw the cruel joke her little (ace grew pale and frightened, und the hid the dreadful thing in her pocket before any oue could see It. At recess time Ida was here and there, showing her treasures and ad miring others, and suddenly came up on Josle Dean, who was trying very bravely not to be disappointed, but wiped away a tear