TIE OMAHA SUNDAY BEE: MAY 19, 1918.
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JEEEEE BUSY BEE CIET Y EEEEEEf
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In the Bee Hive ,
D'
.EAR Busy Bees: This is Red
Cross Sunday! The work of the
Red Cross is being talked of in the
Sunday schools and churches of our
city today.k Next week all the chil
dren in Omaha are going to do their
bit to swell the fund. "It's Fun to
" Swell the Fund" will be the slogan of
ill patriotic boys and girls.
r; Loving deeds that little brothers
ind sisters would do for the boys in
khaki are being done by Red Cross
nurses on the battlefields of France,
tnd all the helpless litttle children are
eing cared for, too.
The French children have a pretty
fairy tale abdnt the origin of the Red
Cross and Captain Haleau, who was
lere to buy horses for his govern-
ment, told me about it. The captain
used 'to look very sad because he was
hurt in his bawk and couldn't fight
any , more, for he had spent several
vears in the trejiches and was eager
2l to do" more for his dear France. Once
upon a time a very, noble and good
man was hurt on the battlefield and
an angel from heaven came down to
help him, and, dipping his finger in
the blood of the hero, made the sign
of the cross, and so from that day to
this the Red Cross has meant help
and loving kindness.
We are all planning to take an ac
tive part in this week's drive, and
many Busy Beeswill give up gum and
candy and the movies to give the
money to the Red Cross fund, for
"It's fun to swell the fund," isn't it?
.Lovingly, MARGARET.
Boys Needed.
f Boys, we want you, tool This is the
A, cry of the junior auxiliary of the
.Episcopalian cnurches. for many
j -years there has been a girls branch
-sT of the junior auxiliary for missionary
work and now boys are asked to join
vfi and help send food, clothes, books and
' teachers of Christianity to the heath-
ens. The girls have made a splendid
showing, and now with the help of
the boys there ought to be some very
interesting and effective work done.
In unity there is strength, and soon
. the junior branch of missionary work
J v will be one of the strongest and best
in the missionary field.
" Sunday School Picnic.
Abbott's farm, a mile out of Flor
id ence, is a most popular spot these
days. On Saturday Caroline Abbott
was hostess and a group of Westmin
ster Presbyterian Sunday school girls
came out for a picnic. They looked
... at the gardens and fruit trees and
, played with the pigs and chickens,
t and had lunch in the orchard. Those
present were Helen Grey. Elma Good
win, Louise Arnold, Margaret Harlow,
! Mitdred Brown and Caroline Abbott.
Picnic and Hike. '
Adelaide Finley, Ruth Chatfield,
Lucile Race, Josephine Blackwood,
Claire Abhptt and Kenneth Stiles
hiked to Elmwood for a picnic last
Saturday. Kenneth was the only boy
in the party and it was a good thing
that he was along, for three snakes
were discovered and he is not afraid
of snakes.
Brother in Army.
Flora Root visited her brother,
Sergeant E. A. Root, in Kansas City
last week before he was transferred
from Camp Funston to Camp Lee,
Flora is very proud to have a brother
in Uncle Sam's army and spends her
tiny knitting socks for him and writ-.
; ir.g him nice, homey letters.
Edit School Paper.
,." Saunders school is one of the most
unusual in the city because the pupils
Jearn, so many things besides reading,
writing and arithmetic. Now they
are editing a school paper and it's full
of interesting items. It is quite an
honor to write something good
enough to be published and the pupils
study composition work very hard so
' that they can become real editors.
"GOODBY, OLD FRIEND!"
(An actual Incident on the road to a battery
position In Southern Flanders)
Onl a dvlng horse! Pull off the gear
And Blip the needless bit from frothing
Jaws.
Drag It aside there leave the roadway
clear
The battery thunders on with scarce a
. pause.
Frone by the shell-swept highway there
It lies
With quivering limbs, as fast the life
tide falls.
Dark films are closing o'er the faithful eyes
That mutely plead for aid where none
avails.
Onward the battery rolls but one there
speeds.
Heedless of comrade's voles or bursting
shell
Back to a wounded friend who lonely bleeds
Beside the stony highway where It fell.
Only a dying horse! He swiftly kneels.
Lifts the limp head and hears the ahlver
Ing sigh.
Kisses the horse while down his cheek
there steals
Sweet "Pity's tear "Goodby, old man,
goodby!'
No honors wait him. medal, badge or star.
Though scarce. -could war a kindlier deed
unfold;
Hp bears within his breast, more precious
. faf - f -- -
Beyond the gift of kings, a heart of gold.
J. send their society items to Mar- J.
r ffaret Shotwell. Busy Bee So-
X cietv Editor, care Bee Office 1
.
The Hag I Love
Do you ask which flag I love?
Ths big flag which floats abovt
A tall flagpole up io high
That It item) to touch tha iky.
How I loved to see It blow.
Didn't know I loved It so:
With Its stripes of white and red
WavHtg high above my head.
Until Daddy went away.
Now It's dearer every day;
Makes me think of him, you know,
That Is why I love It so.
There's another flag I Tov,
Like the one that floats above,
It Is red and white and blue,
Little flag of service, true.
The blue star, that shines so bright,
In Its snowy field of white.
Shines for my own Daddy, dear;
How I wish that he was here!
When I'm In my little bed
And the stars shine overhead,
I ask Ood to safely keep
My dear Daddy, while I sleep.
And I know He hears my prayer.
For the little stars, up there,
Smile at me, as If they knew;
They keep watch o'er Daddy, too.
CELESTA L. MABERT.
Personals
Bernard Hannighen, who has been
ill for the last few weeks, is getting
well again,
Virginia Cotton has recovered from
the mumps.
Jane Horton, who was operated on
for throat trouble, is up and about.
Scenic Study of Mature
If one approaches it, in the right
spirit, the study of the glorious beauty
of a brook in any one point in its
course is as interesting as are the
antics of a squirrel, the finding of a
woodchuck on a woodside or a moth
er robin with her young in the nest;
and it is more convenient. You
may take plenty of time in the study
of a brook. There are eyes that do
not see, and real seeing is accom
plished only by eye training. Take, for
example, the accompanying illustra
tion of the bank of a brook. Sit on
the rock that juts out on the oppo
site side of the stream. With note
book and pencil make a list of the
things that may be observed. Make
a sketch or a photograph. Return to
the place once a week for a year and
note the changes. If that single sec
tion of natural scenery were well
studied, it would sound the keynote
to the melody of all the seasons and
all the seasons' scenes.
TWINKLE and CHUBBINS
(Copyright, 1911, by Rellly A Brltton Co.)
THE TRAP.
THERE'S a woodchuck over on the
side hill that is eating my red
clover," said Twinkla-'s father,
who was a farmer.
"Why don't you set a trap for it?"
asked Twinkle's mother.
"I believe I will," answered the
man.
So, when the midday dinner was
over, the farmer went to the barn and
got a steel trap, and carried it over
to the clover field on the hillside.
Twinkle wanted very much to go
with him, but she had to help mamma
wash the dishes and put them away,
and then brush up the dining room
and put it in order. But when the
work was done, and she had all the
rest of the afternoon to herself, she
decided to go over to the wood
chuck's hole and see how papa had
set the trap, and also discove. if the
woodchuck had yet been caught.
So the little girl took her blue-and-white
sun-bonnet, and climbed over
the garden fence and ran across thi
corn field and through the rye until
she came to the red clover patch on
the hill.
She knew -perfectly well where the
woodchuck's hole was, for she had
looked at it curiously man times;
so she approached it carefully and
found the trap set just in front of
the hole. If the woodchuck stepped
on it, when he came out, it would
grab his leg and hold him fast; and
there was a chain fastened to the
trap, and also to a stout post driven
into the ground, so that when the
woodchuck was caught he couldn't
run away with the trap.
But although the day was bright
Versatile Little FSiss
G Vftt 2.
Gwendolyn (ft'cJze
Little Miss Gwendolyn Eiche helps
"Uncle Sam even though she is only
five years old. She earned many a
subscription to the Liberty loan when
s"he recited "Young America's Plea."
You see, Gwendolyn's mamma was a
teacher of elocution in Chicago and
she has taught the little girl numbers
of humorous pieces and fairy stories.
Gwendolyn is a dancer, too, and has
danced for our soldier boys at Fort
Omaha as well as in the French
Orphan benefit last week. The men
gave the little girl such a warm wel
come that her eyes just danced and
Monday evening she is going out to
the fort again to speak some pieces
for them.
RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL.
It is no secret that the American
Indian did not get fair play from the
white settlers of this country, nor has
he had any more than his barest
rights from our successive govern
ments. The Indian's grievances have
been many and keen. Yet word
comes that about 5,000 Indians are
serving in the army or navy; one is
an aviator (can you imagine an Indian
sailor?). Nearly $10,000,000 worth of
Liberty bonds have been bought by
Indians; they have aided the Red
Cross and have greatly increased our
supplies of crops and meat.
and sunshiny, and just the kind of
day woodchucks like, the clover eater
had not yet walked out of his hole
to get caught in the trap.
So Twinkle lay down in the clover
field, half hidden by a small bank in
front of the woodchuck's hole, and
began to watch for the little animal
to come out. Her eyes could see right
into the hole, which seemed to slant
upward into the hill instead of down
ward; but of course she couldn't see
very far in, because the hole wasn't
straight, and grew black a little way
from the opening.
It was somewhat wearisome, wait
ing and watching so long, and the
warm sun and the soft chirp of the
crickets, that hopped through the
clover made Twinkle drowsy. She
didn't intend to go to sleep, because
then she might miss the woodchuck;
but there was no harm in closing
her eyes just one little minute; so
she allowed the long lashes t' droop
over her pretty pink cheeks just be
cause they felt so heavy, and there
was no way to prop them up.
Then, with a start, she opened her
eyes again, and saw the trap and the
woodchuck hole just as they were
before. Not quite, though, come to
look carefully. The hole seemed to
be bigger than at first; yes, strange
as it might seem, the hole was grow
ing bigger every minute! She watched
it with much surprise, and then looked
at the trap, which remained the same
size it had always been. And when
she turned her eyes upon the hole
once more it had not only become
very big and high, but a stone arch
appeared over it, and a fine, polished
front door now shut it off from the
outside world. She could even read
a name upon the silver door plate,
Kand the name was this:
Mister Woodchuck.
if gp
CHAPTER II.
Mister Woodchuck Captures a Girl.
"Well, I declare!" whispered Twin
kle to herself; "how could all that
have happened?"
On each side of the door was a lit
tle green bench, big enough or two
to sit upon, and between the benches
was a doorstep of white marble, with
a mat lying ort it. On one side Twin
kle saw an electric door bell.
While she gazed at this astonishing
sight a sound of rapid footsteps was
was heard, and a large jack-rabbit,
almost as big as herself, and dressed
m a messenger boy's uniform, ran
up to the woodchuck's front dcor and
rang the bell.
Almost at once the door opened in
ward, and a curious personage stepped
out '
Twinkle saw at a glance that it
i '
Little Stories
(Honorable Mention.) v
Economize.
By Mabel Johnson, Aged 11 Years,
Waterloo, Neb.
Save every penny, nickel and dime,
For every little bit combined
Will buy a thrift stamp or maybe a
bond,
To help our dear Sammies along.
Plant wheat, potatoes and peas,
For our dear Sammies, at least
To help us win this war;
That's what we're in it for!
Then we'll bring the kaiser down
And sit him on the ground
And show him that we are every
As powerful as he!
bit
And when the war is done,
Our, Sammies, then, will come
And the red, white and blue will
wave
O'er the heads of the victorious
brave!
(Prize LetterO
A Bird Letter
By Helen Aklenieier, Aged 11 Years,
1022 East Sixth Street,
Fremont, Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: I am writing an
other story to see if I may win a
prize. I am Mrs. Bluebird and am
writing to Mrs. Meadow Lark:
Bluebirdville, Mapletop, April 22,
1918 Dear Mrs. Meadow Lark: I
heard you were living at Green
Meadow. It must be a very pleasant
place to live. But I would prefer
Bluebirdville.
I have an important detail to tell
you. It was a bright sunny day in
September and as I was soaring high
above the pine trees of northern
Canada, I heard a queer sound. At
first it sounded like the screech of
an owl, but as I came nearer it
sounded like the scream of a child,
who was in pain. I now saw a little
white cottage, built on the hillside,
and I thought the screaming came
from there. I flew upon the window
sill.
"O! look at the birdie," came the
vioce of a child. The scream ceased.
Someone opened the window, I know
not who, and a tiny child picked me
up in her pale hands and whispered
softly, "God bless you, dear little
creature."
The next day I was put into a cage
and hung by the window, so the little
sick child could watch me all day
long. I sang my sweetest song for
the child, and soon it was restored
to health. One summer day the lit
tle child took me out on the lawn,
caressed me and whispered again
softly, "God bless this dear little
creature." Then she opened the door
of the cage, and gave me my liberty
once more.
Thus I was out in the free air
again. Well, I must now close. Sin
cerely yours, MRS. BLUEBIRD.
was the woodchuck himself but what
a big and queer woodchuck it was!
He wore a swallow-tailed coat, with
a waistcoat of white satin and fancy
knee breeches, and upon his feet were
shoes with silver buckles. On his
head was perched a tall silk hat that
made him look just as high as Twin-1
kles father, and in one paw he held
a gold-headed cane. Also he wore
big spectacles over his eyes, which
made him look more dignified than
any other woodchuck Twinkle had
even seen.
When this person opened the door
and saw the Jack-Rabbit me.senger
boy, he cried out:
"Well, what do you mean Ly ring:
ing my bell so violently? I suppose
you're half an hour late, and trying
to make me think you're in a hurry."
The Jack-Rabbit took a telegram
from its pocket and handed it to the
woodchuck without a word in reply.
At once the woodchuck tore open
the envelope and read the, telegram
carefully.
"Thank you. There's no answer,"
he said; and in an instant the Jack
Rabbit had whisked away and was
gone.
"Well, well," said the woodchuck,
as if to himself, "the foolish farmer
has set a trap for me, it seems, and
my friends have sent a tejegram to
warn me. Let's- see where is the
thing?"
He soon discovered the trap, and
seizing hold of the chain he pulled the
peg out of the ground and threw the
whole thing far away into the field.
"I must give that farmer a sound
scolding," he muttered, "for he's be
coming so impudent lately that soon
he will think he owns the whole coun
try." But now his eyes fell upon Twin
kle, who lay in the clover staring up
at him; and the woodchuck gave a
laugh and grabbed her fast by one
arm.
"Oh ho!" he exclaimed; "you're
spying upon me, are you?"
"I'm just waiting to see you get
caught in the trap," said the girl,
standing up because the big creature
pulled upon her arm. She wasn't
much frightened, strange to say, be
cause this "woodchuck had good
humored way about him that gave her
confidence.
"You would have to wait a long
time for that," he said, with a laugh
that wa3 a sort of low chuckle. "In
stead of seeing me caught, you've got
caught yourself. That's turning the
tables, sure enough; isn't it?"
"I suppose its," said Twinkle, re
gretfully. "Am I a prisoner?"
"You might call it that; and then,
again, you mightn't," answered the
woodchuck. "To tell you the truth.
I hardly know what to do with you.
But come inside, and we'll talk it
over. We mustn't be seen out here
in the fields."
Still holding fast to her arm, the
By Little Folks
Havana Leaf.
By Helen Clementine Foe, Aged 12
Years, Cowles, Neb., R. F. D.
No. 1.
I live in Cuba. I am a Havana
Leaf and 1 grow on a Havana plant
in a large field, where there are sev
eral plants around me like the one I
grow on. This field belongs to a
wealthy Mexican.
I grew every day and the weeds
also grew, but no one came to tend
to us. One day I saw a man com
ing out with a cultivator. When he
came to me he cut a piece of rtc off.
My! That nice cool, moist dirt did
make me feel better. Now the weeds
were down and I had a pleasant view
from every side and the sun shone
on me.
I lived a happy life untfl ore day
some men came out with wagons and
began pulling up the plants, and, ot
course, the plant I grew on was
pulled up, too. They kept piling other
plants on me and I thought I was
going to smother.
Then they took me to a city called
Havana. Then we were taken to a
shed, where we were dried and then
someone came in where were were
and began sorting us. I heard him
say that the small- leaves would be
made into tobacco and the larger
ones would be made into cigars. I
was put in the pile which the cigars
were to made from.
Then I was taken to the factorv
Bunsy Bee's
Here is another war cartoon by the
Rose, of Elmwood, Neb. Dorothy has
cmia. in several years, pernaps, we
corner of cartoons which will have a
Ay' '
M
Their Astonishing Adventures in Nature-Fairyland
By LAURA BANCROFT
woodchuck led her through the door,
which he carefully closed and locked.
Then they passed through a kind of
hallway, into which opened several
handsomely furnished rooms, and out
again into a beautiful garden at the
back, all filled with flowers and bright
ly colored plants, and with a pretty
fountain playing in the middle. A
high stone wall was built around the
garden, shutting it off from all the
rest of the world.
The woodchuck led his prisoner to
a bench beside the fountain, and told
her to sit down and make herself com
fortable. CHAPTER III.
Mister Woodchuck Scolds Twinkle.
Twinkle was much pleased with her
surroundings, and soon discovered
several gold-fishes swimming in the
water at the foot of the fountain.
"Well, how does it strike you?"
asked the woodchuck, strutting up and
down the gravel walk before her ahd
swinging his gold-headed cane rather
gracefully.
"It seems like a dream," said Twin
kle. "To be sure," he answered, nod
ding. "You'd no business to fall
asleep in the clover."
"Did I?" she asked, rather startled
at the suggestion.
"It stands to reason you oid," he
replied, "You don't for a moment
think this is real, do you?"
"Itseems real," she answered.
"Aren't you the woodchuck?"
"Mister Woodchuck, if you please.
Address me properly, young lady,
or you'll make me angry."
"Well, then, aren't you Mister
Woodchuck?"
"At present I am; but when you
wake up, I won't be," he said.
"Then you think I'm dreaming?"
"You must figure that out for your
self," said Mister Woodchuck.
"What do you suppose made me
dream?"
"I don't know."
"Do you think it's something I've
eaten?" she asked anxiously.
"I hardly think so. This isn't any
nightmare, you know, because there's
nothing at all horrible about it so
far. You've probably been .eading
some of those creepy, sensational
story books."
"I haven't read a book in a long
time," said Twinkle.
"Dreams," remarked Mister Wood
chuck, thoughtfully, "are not always
to be accounted for. But this con
versation is all wrong. When one is
dreaming one doesn't talk about it,
or even know it's a dream. So
let's speak of something else."
"It's very pleasant in this garden,"
said Twinkle. "1 don't mind being
here a bit."
"But you can't stay here," replied
Mister Woodchuck, "and you ought to
where there was an awful buzzing.
The next think a knew I was be
tween two large rollers and was being
crushed into medium, sized pieces.
Then we were taken into another part
of the factory and some were mold
ing us into a cigar. Then they
brought in some little boxes and be
gan packing us in. Finally, they came
to me and I was packed in the bottom
of a box with several others packed
on me.
From here I was put on board
a ship called the Havana. Oh I how
dark it was in here. We did not get
many knocks, as we were packed in so
tight. One day the little door opened
and someone beRan throwing us out.
We were at Tallahassee.
We were waiting for the dray and
no one was near. Pretty soon some
one picked us up. Then the lid flew
open and the first thing I saw was
two bright eyes looking at me. "Now,
I shall have a fine smoke," said Tom
myfor that was the little boy's
name. He took me out of the box
and struck a match and lit me. Then
he went slowly down the road, leav
ing the other cigars behind lying in
the road. I am about gone and I
don't think little Tommy will ever
want to smoke again.
I wish to join the Blue Side, as it
is my favorite color. I hope to sec
my letter in print. Goodby Busy
Bees.
Bobbie's Cat.
By Gifford Page. Aged 11 Years, Har
risburg, Neb. Blue Side.
My Dear Little Busy Bees: I have
been reading the stories that the
Waif CartedDE
Busy Bees little staff artist. Dorothv
a great deal of talent for so young a
will find her name in the right-hand
wide circulation.
ft
be very uncomfortable in my pres
ence. You see, you're one of the
deadliest enemies of my race. All
you human beings live for or think of
is how to torture and destroy wood
chucks."
"Oh, no!" she answered. "We have
many more important things than
that to think of. But when a wood
chuck gets eating our clover and the
vegetables, and spoils a lot, we just
have to do something to stop it.
That's why my papa set the trap."
"You're selfish," said Mister Wood
chuck, "and you're cruel to poor little
animals that can't help themselves,
and have to eat what they can find, or
starve. There's enough for all of us
growing in the broad fields."
Twinkle felt a little ashamed.
"We have to sell the clover and the
vegetables to earn our living," she
explained; "and if the animals eat
them up we can't sell them."
"We don't eat enough to rob you,"
said the woodchuck, "and the land
belonged to the wild creatures long
before you people came her and be
gan to farm. And really, there is no
reason why you should be so cruel. It
hurts deadfully to be caught in a
trap, and an animal captured in that
way sometimes has to suffer for many
hours before the man comes to kill
it. We don't mind the killing so
much. Death doesn't last but an in
stant. But every minute of suffering
seems to be an hour."
"That's true," said Twinkle, feeling
sorry and repentant. "I'll ask papa
never to set another trap."
"That will be some help," returned
Mister Woodchuck, more cheerfully,
"and I hope you'll not forget the
promise when you wake ne. But that
isn't enough to settle the account for
all our past sufferings, I assure you;
so I am trying to think of a suitable
way to punish you for the past wick
edness of your father, and of all other
men that have set traps."
"Why, if you feel that way," said
the little girl, "you're just as bad as
we are I"
"How's that?" asked Mister Wood
chuck, pausing in his walk to look at
her.
"It's as naughty to want revenge
as it is to be selfish and cruel," she
said.
"I believe you are right abo..t that,"
answered the animal, taking off his
silk hat and rubbing the (ur smooth
with his elbow. "But woodchucks
are not perfect, any more than men
are, so you'll have to takers as you
find us. And now I'll call my family,
and exhibit them to you. The chil
dren, especially, will "enjoy seeing the
wild human girl I've had the luck to
capture." "
"Wild!" she cried, indignantly.
"If you're not wild now, you will be
before you wake up," he said.
(Continued Next Sunday.)
1
I Rules lor Young Writers
T 1. Writ nlalnlv on one slda of the
? paper only and number the pages).- f
i. iw rvH auu ii.it, uu,
S. Short and pointed articles will be
given preference. Do not use over
if tiO words. v
A 4. Original stories or letters only
A will be use.
4 6. Write you.- name, age and ad-
4 dress at the top of the first page.
Y A prise bonk will be given eaeb
Y week for the best contribution.
Address all communications to
T Children's Department, Omaha Bee,
X Omaha, Neb.
V
Busy Bees write and I enjoy them
very much. I thought I would send
ycu this story. . -
Bobbie had a little cat and he loved
it very much. Bobbie was 9 yean
old and lived with his four brothers
on a little farm.
One day in the spring Bobbie wis
playing with his little cat, Tabby,
which was the cat's name. The cat
soon got tired of playing and ran inta
the garden.
Little Bobbie did not know where
his cat Tabby had gone, so he called
and called, but Tabby did not come.
He went to the garden and toon saw
the cat creeping along the ground
and Bobbie saw the cat had a little
meadow lark by the wing. Bobbie
saw the wing was broken tnd he took
the bird away from the cat and treated
it until it was well and then let it fly
away. I think this was very nice,
don't you?
My Favorite Work.
By Gertrude P. Vana, Aged 13 Year, .
Wilber, Neb.
This is the second time I am writ
ing to this club. The first time I
wrote my story, it 'saw the waste
basket. . '
My favorite work is to be out
around the fowls and out in the field.
I have over 350 chicks to attend to,
and I have 80 duckies to attend and
16 goslings.
It always -takes me about an hour
and a half to get them all fed and '
watered. I feed them three or four '
times a day,
I go to school and I am in the
Eighth grade. We have to go a mile
to school. I always go home at noon
since father is planting corn, because
I always go out to the field in the'
afternoon to roll down corn. I en
joy it very much.
I have seven sisters and one
brother.
I wish some of the members oi
this club would write me, I will gladly
answer you.
I hope I will see my story in print
this time. This is a true story.
First Letter.
By Rachel Bauer, Aged 11 Years, 407
New York avenue, Hastings, Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: This is the first
time I am writing to you and wish
to join the Blue side of your Busy
Bee column.
I am interested in your little stories
by little folks and am sure I would '
enjoy being one of the Busy Bees.
I am saving my pennies for thrift
stamps to help our Uncle Sammy win
this horrible war. I hope that all the
little Busy Bees are also saving their -pennies
for the Red, White and Blue.
I wish some of the Busy Bees would
write to me. I am sure I would en
joy reading your letters. Goodbye all
of you.
First Letter.
By Mary Carlota Davis, Aged 7
Years, Ord, Neb.
Dear Busy Bees! This is the first
time I have written to you. I will
be in the Third grade next year. I
have 13 thrift stamps. I earn tbf
money to buy them. I want to help
win the war. I can crochet and kriif
and sew. I am crocheting my fourtk
wash cloth. Grandma lets me knit
on almost everything she knits. She's
knitting for the soldiers. I have twfl
brothers, Eldon and Dean. Eldon it
5 years old and Dean is 2 years old.
One has blue eyes and light hair and
the other has browu-eyes and hait
We have good times together. .
Well, I think I will close now,
Goodby, Busy Bees. '
Like "Ox" Stories.
Dear Editor: I received the prize
book, for which I thank you very
rrrtich.
I like to read the "Oz" stories every
Sunday. The children all write very
interesting stories.
ANNETTE LIEB. i
America.
By Mary Dyba, Aged 12, 4016 South
Thirty-fifth Street, South
Side, Omaha.
As my first poem was in print, I'm
sending in another, hoping, as usual,
to win a prize story book. Here it is.'
America! My America!
Your flag is always true, J
Your mountains, plains and lakes,
In winsome beauty partakes,
And above floats the red, white and
blue.
Your land is blessed
With Freedom's crest.
Your golden eagle flies oh high,
With your just ways let us comply
To tread forever upon thy soil; ,
In peace and justice let us toil.
You were swept by battle's bloody
mist,
For correcting that wrong, and many'
the fist! ' .
That rang wildly through the air
To proclaim the place for .America ;
fair!
O! Many and many's the lives were
lost,
And many have on rude beds tossed,
And suffered from wounds, slight or
deep;
Your soldier boys you may lovingly
trust,
For 'tis they who'd keep you from
unjust
Amid dark skies and troubled waters,
The Statue of Liberty never falters.. .
Come, comrade, come, one and alL
Don't let our America, our prize, fall
Unto autocracy and its sinful notion.
Let's ring joyful bells' from ocean to
. ocean 1
America I My America I
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'J
I
1 i
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4 1
!!
V i
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HI
j
IS
l!
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