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BUSY BEES IN WAR TIME
CHILDREN, DEAR:
I am deliglited with your ani
mal stories, they are so original
and well written. I can'see that you
are growing interested in our little
contest and I have decided to con
tinue it another week. One whole
week more to win the lovely prize 1
Today I have an animal story for
you, for perhaps if you read this on
it may give you an idea for yours.
Hurry and write your stories for I
have another idea up my sleeve that
I will tell you about next Sunday.
Lovingly, MARGARET.
How Pierrot Did His 'Bit'
One warm Saturday morning in
October, when the sun hung over
the top of the big maple tree in
Bettykins hack yard, the little girl
sat on the back step and looked at
the bright colored maple leaves
trewn over the yard which the first
autumn wind had shaken from the
tree.
While Bettykins sat there quietly
thinking how she should spend the
day, Tabby, Bettykins' little "kitty,
came stealing up into her lap and
nestled softly against her arm and
hand and purred contentedly.
"Oh,"' said Bettykins, "I know what
you want. You are teasing me for
cream." And at this Tabby purred
harder than ever and snuggled up
closer to her. "I just have to' give
it to you, Tabby," said Bettykins,
because I do think you are the very
softest, prettiest kitty I have ever
seen. . So Bettykins ran into the
kitchen and her mother poured out
a dish of thick cream for Tabby and
Bettykins took out and placed it
on the ground for Tabby.
A Little White Dog.
Just then the postman came by
and Bettykins went to the front of
the house to see what he had
brought But there was only a letter
for her mother, 10, the little girl
turned and went to the back yard
again to watch Tabby lap up his
cream. But when Bettykins reached
the back, there wai no Tabby to be
seen. Instead there was little
white dog in Tabby's place and he
was just finishing up Tabby's cream.
At first Bettykins was angry.
"Where is Tabby," she asked, "and
what are you doing here? Don't
, you know it's wrong to steal?" To
which the dog. naturally, did not
Kake a reply. Instead he ran up to
Bettykins and crawled in her lap
and licked her hands and face. He
was such a dear little thing that
Bettykins had to love him in spite
of the fact that he t had stolen
Tabby's cream, for he had short
curly, white hair, funny stubby ears,
and a little pink nose and a red
mouth that always looked like it
was laughing. When Bettykins got
up and rn about in the yard, the
little dog followed her and frisked
about merrily at her heels. He
rolled over and ever in the grass and
to Bettykins' astonishment and de
light he suddenly sat up and held
up his two little paws and seemed
to smile an I he looked at Bettykins
as if he meant to say, "You see, I
am no ordinary dog at all,
Bettykins."
Just then Tabby came around the
Corner of the house and to prove to
Bettykins that he was without a
doubt different than most dogs, he
did not fight with Tabby as most
dogs would have done but lay quiet
ly while Tabby came up and looked
at him as if to say "How do you do"
and then politely walked away. Af
ter that they became fast friends.
Keeps Little Dog.
Bettykins ran to her mother, and
told her about the dog. Then they
both went outside and Bettykins
called the dog and commanded him
to stand up. He stood up again and
his little tail wagged fast in sign of
friendship. "Oh, mother, please
sy I may keep him," begged Betty
kins. "You may." said her mother
if he does not belong to anyone
else."
Days slipped by and i no one had
claimad the little trick dog so Betty
kins began to call him her own,
"What shall we call him?" she asked
her mother. 'I think Pierrot would
be a good name," said her mother,
"for he is a little trick dog and Pier
rot means clown in French." That
name just fits him, mother," said
Bettykins. So the little dog was
named Pierrot.
Money for Red Cross.
The Red Cross, who takes care of
our wounded soldier boys in France
needed money to buy medicines and
bandages and to pay people to go to
France to nurse the sick soldiers
and so they asked every city and vil
lage in the country to give all the
money they could to carry on this
great work. In the city where Bet
tykins lived every one the little girl
knew had given money to the Red
Cross or had helped in some way.
"What can I do?' Bettykins asked
herself. 1 will not be the only one
who has not done something. I
wish you could help me Pierrot,"
she said to the little dog at her feet.
And then Pierrot stood up. "I know
what I can do," she cried. "Pierrot,
you have told me." And then in
great haste she told her mother of
her plan. Then there were busy
days. Bettykins and her mother
talked with the people who were
managing the Red Cross and with
the owner of a great hotel. Then
came the day. One of the biggest
days in Bettykins' life. Pierrot was
washed until his hair was beautifully
clean and fluffy. Then a great blue
how was tied about his neck. Then
Bettykins end Pierrot stood up. A
hat was placed before him on the
table and a large sign was tacked on
the front which read "Give Pierrot
your money to the Red Cross."
All day Pierrot stood there like a
true soldier who is on duty for his
country.
At night, when the money was
counted, the Red Cross found Pier
rot had taken in $100, which is a
large amount of money. And every
one praised Bettykins for thinking
up a plan that helped the Red Cross
50 much. "But it wasn't I at all,"
said Bettykins. "Pierrot has just
done his bit."
j PATRIOTIC GIRLS SEW FOR BELGIANS r.
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A DOG'S EDUCATION
Left to right: Dorothy Moore, Ethel Ackerman, Dorothy Hesbecher, Margaret Carmichael, Marjorie Moore, Elizabeth Kaho.
Isn't this a beautiful quilt and a pretty group of little girls? Their busy fingers fly and before you can wink the gay patches are trans
formed into a warm cjuilt. Far across the sea these quilts go to the poor little Belgian children, who are many of them cold and hungry. These
little maids are making other things, too, and they have a nice little sum in the club treasury which they have earned. Little Miss Elizabeth
Kaho, whom you see at the extreme right, is the president of this little Belgian Relief society.
LITTLE STORIES BY LITTLE FOLKS
Our Cat.
By. Florence Seward, Aged 12, 1634
Victor Avenue, Omaha, Neb.
We have a est which is very cute.
His coat is striped like a Tom cat,
so we call him Thomas. His real
name is Thomas Jefferson George
Washington Seward, and he is quite
proud of it, or seems to be, by the
way he struts around. We may
never fear of being lonesome when
Mr. Thomas is around. Ask him
all the question you want to and
he'll always politely answer "Meo
ow." My father has a way of play
ing with him by making him walk
on his two front legs and holding
his back legs high in the air. As
soon as Thomas thinks he has done
enough he will lay down and roll
over and "meow," as much as to say
"Now, folks. I've dowTi it, can't I
have something to eat." Of course
he plagues the life out of us till
he gets what he wants, then strolls
majestically out of the room "lick
ing his chops" as we call it. Some
times he will wink at us. and he
looks so cute we just can't refuse
him anything he wants. Well, good
by, I'll write again.
My Pigs.
By Martan Talcott, Aged 11, Mc
Clelland, la.
Well as I didn't see my other let
ter In print will write again.
How are all the Busy Bees? I am
fine and have not got the Spanish
flu. We had two runt pigs and two
cripples that were starved so father
gave me a cripple and a runt and
piy sister the other two.
My brothers built a pen for them
and -we put lots of straw for them
to sleep on. And plenty of corn
and milk. They are nice and fat.
We ha.ve turned them out. When
they get a little bigger we are go
ing to sell them and buy Liberty
bonds.
Father has a brother and a
nephew jn France and two nephews
and a niece in the United .States.
Mother also has two nephews in
France. I have bought thrift
stamps and will soon have enough
for a war savings stamp.
Well, Busy Bees, goodby.
Our Pony.
By Viola McElfregh, Aged 12, Mem
phis, Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: I love to read
the Busy Bee. page every Monday,
so I thought I would write and tell
you about our pony. His name is
Tony. I think he is very nice.
Papa got him for us to drive to
school, and a boy threw a volley
ball at him and he was so scared we
could not drive him to school any
more. Now we have another horse
to drive to school and I think the
pony is very nice and ride him all
over and go to places for mamma.
Goodby, Busy Bees. Please write
to me.
An Intelligent Cat.
By Edith Weir, 3412 Dodge Street,
Omaha, Neb.
We once had a yellow cat named
Chink. He was very smart and did
some unusual tricks, at least for a
cat.
One day there was some warm
water in the bath tub. Chink went
in and started to walk around the
edge of the tub. Finally he jumped
in. He waded around a while, then
he sat down and began to wash his
face. He seemed to enjoy it greatly
and took a bath whenever he had an
opportunity. Once we wanted to
see. what he would do when there
was too much water in the tub so
we turned it on but as soon as it got
too deep he pulled out the cork.
We put it in again only to have him
pull it out. After that whenever he
thought tihe water wag too deep he
pulled out the cork.
He had several cute tricks besides
this.
He would watch us. and when he
knew we were looking at him he
would tke something in his mouth
American Red Cross Cares for French Orphans
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G32&2S GAINES
)&CeAi Sea CC-S aro,
,.e co.ner in t.so American Led t ros home for Frcr.Cji orphans at Varabille, near
' Cobourg, France. The kiddies have their 6ut-of-doors playground. The phota shows some of the 1.500 chil
' cken'carcd for at the home enjoying their recreation hours.
J lore
that he knew we didn't want him to
have and run away with it.
At meal time he would sit on the
radiator behind my sister's chair.
When she had her food nearly to
her mouth he would reach out his
paw and grab it. Many people who
do not know the intelligence of ani
mals cannot understand these tricks,
but it is not hard when you have had
pets and know their reasoning
power. -
Muggs.
By Elizabeth Paffenrath, Aged 12,
Omaha, Neb.
"Muggs, my dear little dog, have
I ever told you about Max?"
"Woof, woof!" barked Muggs.
"Well, my little puppy, I will tell
you all about him."
"Max is a very smart little Bos
ton bulldog, just like you, but he
is much older, being almost 3 years
old. He is very smart indeed, and I
hope that some day you'll be like
him, though, of course, you are a
very little dog yet.
"Max knows many tricks. He
sings. Oh, it is so cute. He sits on
his hind legs and will shake hands
and do many other astonishing
tricks. But, my dear little Muggs,
the most wonderful of all is this:
At meal time his mistress says,
'Max, go get your table cloth,' and
Max runs off and brings back a
newspaper, which he spreads on
the kitchen floor. After his meal
his mistress tells him to get his
hammer. Max immediately obeys
and hia mi$tress breaks his dog bis
cuit (which is his dessert), up into
small pieces. Then Max returns the
hammer and table cloth.
"Now, Muggs, isn't that a fine
trick? Do you ever think you can
be as smart as that?"
Muggs, who was lying in the sun,
looked up and blinked his eyes and
then fell to his cozy nap again.
"Oh, Muggs, you lazy little puppy,
you sleep all the time." Muggs
blinked again.
I know why he slept so much
now and why he blinked his eyes.
He was preparing for the time when
he could learn to do tricks, for he
is, now, though only 6 months old,
a very smart dog, and no doubt this
is why he blinked h's eyes so un
derstandingly."
Probably Max is told by his mis
tress a .story like this;
"Now, Max, I am going to tell you
about Muggs.
"He is a very smart dog for his
age, and shall some day excei you
in his tricks if you are not careful.
He can shake hands and sit up on
his hind legs. He will jump over
a stick and all his mistress says in
the morning is: 'Muggs, bring me
the paper,' and Muggs does so, wag
ging his tail all the while, His best
trick is saying his prayers. His mis
tress says, 'Muggs, say your pray
ers,' and Muggs jumps up on the
RULES FOR YOUNG
WRITERS
1. Write plainly and number
pages.
2. Use pen and ink, not pencil.
3. Short and pointed articles
will be given preference. Do not
use over 250 words.
4. Original stories or letters
only will be used.
5. Write your name, age and
address at the top of the first
page.
6. A pme book will be given
each week for the best contribu
tion. Address all communications to
Children's Department, Omaha
Bee, Omaha, Neb.
chair and puts his paws on the back,
with his head between, and remajns
quiet until some one says 'amen,'
then jumps down.
"Isn't that fine for a little dog
like that?" ,
Max, too, blinks and bounds away
to play with his ball.
Helping to Win the War.
Dear Busy Bees: I am 9 years old
and in the fourth grade at school. I
am, on the blue side. This summer
the War Savings society was organ
ized in our district. I am raising a
pig to sell, go I can get money to
buy war savings stamps. I have
bought four war stamps with my
money I had saved and 12 thrift
stamps. My father is going to buy
my pig and I am going to get $36
for her. Then buy more stamps.
Perhaps you do not think it js
hard to bring up a little dog in thk
way he should go; but that is be
cause you do not own one, perhaps,
or else did not have anything to do
with his earliest years, writes the
Montreal Daily Star.
If you are such a happy boy or
girl as to have a dog for a pet, re
member three things especially:
Always be kind to him, always be
patient, and always be reasonable.
Always be kind. This means that
you should never strike a puppy,
nor speak to it harshly. If you do,
you will have a cringing animal in
stead of a companionable doggie.
Of course, when he does wrong, let
him know that you are not de
ceived; but this you can do in a
quiet way, without hurting him, by
repeating your command in a quiet
voice.
Be patient. Remember that the
puppy has to learn the language
just as you did "when you were a
baby, and so do not expect that he
will understand everything you say
at once.
Be reasonable. Begin by teaching
him cleanliness and obedience. As
dogs are naturally clean, you will
not have much trouble in teaching
him the first habit.
At first your puppy will seem
very disobedient. This is because
he does not always understand you.
If you have an order, make it short
and simple, as you would speak to
a foreigner not yet familiar with
your language. Point to the objects
about which you are speaking and
if he docs not understand a com
mand go over the words patiently.
For instance if he does not come
when you call him go up tl
and lead him in the direction!
wnicil you sent tne can. ah
fcttir trivia l ltrill si A At e J .
v t lit fvna uuvtuitau
you want.
After he has learned the
big lessons you win be a
teach him some tricks, not
, . i it s
ting your tnree neips ku
patience and reason.
HUGE ELEPHANT TUSK
A letter recently received by t
Zoological Society bulletin from Ai
G. R. Theobald, state shikari of
Mysore, transmits a photograph, of
a dead elephant in a bamboo jungle,
bearing remarkable abnormal tusks.
Mr. Theobald's description of this
strange case follows:
"Last year my son shot three, ;
rogue elephants which were pro
scribed by the government, as they ,
had become vicious mankillers, and
terrorized the Forest Department,
stall and the surrounding jungle
tribes. One of these elephants had ,
a very unique pair of tusks. In
stead of growing in the usual man
ner, they grew out almost at right (
angles to the head, like the. upper
tusks' of a wild boar, and making
sharp curve formed a full semicircle, .
The tip of one had penetrated over ,,
six inches into the head just behind s
the eye, leaving an open, festering
wound. The animal was in an ema-;
ciated condition, and must have ,
sulTered excruciating pain from the
wound, which was probably the
cause of it becoming so vicious. I
am inclosing a photograph of the;'
elephant, showing the curious form-,
ation of the tusks."
OUR PICTURE DOT PUZZLE
37 23
IV" a. ' 'HZ.
4E?n fit
The
, perched upon a tree,
sings, "Everybody look at me!"
Complete the picture by drawing a line through the dots, beginning at
No. 1 and taking them numerically.
Th Lnttte Wilful Prtaeess
By Davidl Cwj
THE little willful princess had
of late become very fond of
walking, and her small way
ward feet often led her through the
meadow, across the waving grasses
to the low hills beyond. Through
double rows of willows the little
brgok wound lazily in and out, and
then tumbled down and waked itself
up, surprised to find itself turning
an old mill, the drip of whose large
wheel was enough to put it to sleep
again. Among the shadows in the
mill-pond, the little fishes dozed,
while frogs and mud-turtles took
short naps on the floating logs.
Even the old miller nodded in his
chair, until suddenly aroused by a
cry from some ardent young fisher
man who had brought to land an
unusually large fish.
Since Prince Rupert had left, she
and her cousin Elaine had found it
somewhat difficult at times to find
amusement and so the little willful
princess, being of a venturesome
turn of mind, often persuaded
her cousin to take long walks with
her, past the old mill and low lands
where great flocks of geese fed, to
the low hills beyond. Sometimes
they would stop and watch the little
goose girls tending their feathered
flocks. At other times they would
wander up the grassy hills, where
they would sit down and read fairy
stories or gather wild flowers that
grew in great profusion.
One afternoon, as they were
wending their way homeward they
stopped to watch the little peasant
girls collecting their geese for the
homeward journey, and as they
stood looking, one of them com
menced throwing stones at the flock
of her neighbor. This quickly re
sulted in a general engagement, and
had not the lilUe willful princess ar
rived on the scene and called out to
them to stop, the consequences
might have been serious.
"Dpnt you know?" said the prin
cess, turning to the girl who fyrst
.
had thrown the stones, "don't you
know it is very cruel to hurt the
poor innocent geese?"
"But, your Highness," answered
the girl with a courtesy "did not
Hilda throw stones at mine yester
day?" The princess laughed, and
her cousin Elaine said: "Did you
never hear the story of the little girl
who threw stones at the geese?"
"No, your Highness," replied the
girl, looking up with surprise. "Is
it a pretty story?"
"Call your frjends over here," said'
the princess, "and you both shall
hear the tale, for my eousin and
myself have read it no later than this
very afternoon."
When the four were seated, the
little willful princess turned to her
cousin and said, "Will you not read
the story?" But the princess Elaine
answered, "Nay, cousin, do you tell
it from memory, for it will sound
more like a lesson if you tell it in
your own words." So the little will
ful princess began to relate how
once upon a time there was a little
goose girl who was very unkind to
her geese, because she disliked going
out every day to the low, marshy
lands to watch them and to see that
they did not wander away. Often
she would be so dissatisfied and
cross that she would amuse herself
by throwing small stones and
pebbles at the gese, which fright
ened them and caused them to run
about, so that they grew thinner
and thinner. One day, after she had
hit several of the geese with larger
stones than usual, for I fear she
was in a more disagreeable mood
than she had ever been, there sud
denly appeared before her a funny
little old man, no bigger than a
frnome,- who cried out in a high,
shrill voice, as he lifted his stick in
the air: "Have a care I have a care,
thou naughty child! For every stone
thou throwest hereafter at the geese
a foatt'er shall grow on thee!" And
before the astonished child could
speak, he disappeared. The little
willful princess paused in her narra
tive, while the two small peasant
girls looked apprehensively about
them, thinking no doubt that they
would behold the little old man
close at hand. But as he did not
appear, the princess resumed her
story.
For several days the goose girl
refrained from throwing anything
at her geese, but one day, in her
anger at one wandering off some
distance she again threw a stone
at it. That night, when she went
upstairs to her little room in the
cottage, and had taken off her
blouse, she found a small white
feather growing on her breast. But
she only laughed at first, thinking
it had blown off of one of her geese
and had drifted through the open
ing at her throat. This was not so,
however, for when she would pick
'it off, she found that it resisted her
trembling fingers. Now, indeed, she
was frightened, as she remembered
the words of the little old man.
Presently she laughed, for, after all,
what was one feather? But, alas!
She had not controlled her temper
for so long a while as that before,
she was aware. . She would often
throw stones at her poor frightened
geese, and day by day the feathers
came, until she was covered like a
goose with soft white feathers,
from her throat to her feet. And
still, she was too willful to stop
throwing stones. By and by she
left off wearing her pretty frocks,
short skirt and blouse and her
wooden shoes, for it was so hot to
have a coat of feathers underneath.
Of course, all the neighbors laughed
at her, and the boys jeered, and
even her parents grew to care less
and less for her each day, for they
reasoned together that she must
have done some ill to have so great
a misfortune come upon her. Each
day she wept as she sat like a great
wild bird watching her geese in
the low lands. But even this did no
good, for she was only weeping for
herself, and not because she was
sorry that she had been so cruel to
the poor frightened geese. At last
one day, something happened that
made her realize how her poor
geese must have suffered when the
sliarp stones hit them. A number
of boys with many jeers and much
laughter commenced to stone her,
and when she felt the pain of the
blows she cried aloud and ran to
hide. And she flapped her arms in
the air to help her run the more
swiftly, just as she had seen her
geese do when she had run after
them with stones in her hands. And
she ran so swiftly that she outdis
tanced the boys, and hid behind
some trees that grew near by. Look
ing cut from behind the trunk of
the tree, where she had hidden, she
saw to her dismay that the cruel
boys had turned their attention to
her flock and were stoning them
with great cruelty. Seeing this, and
remembering how painful were the
blows which she had received, she
quickly gathered up a quantity of
stones and rushed to the rescue of
her geese. At this the boys turned
again upon her, but nothing daunted,
and resolving to save her flock, she
bravely fought them back, in spile
of many hurts she received from the
stones that hit her. At last, the
boys ran away, for she was a strong
young thing and knew how to throw
stones as well as any lad of her age,
if not better. Turning to her flock,
which was well scattered by this
time, and, frightened beyond reason,
she saw standing before her the
little old man who ha,d warned her
not to hurt her geese. '
"Daughter, thou shalt be repaid
fcr thy bravery. He that has him
self suffered knoweth another's
woe!" Great was the goose-girl's
joy to see that instead of a coat of
feathers she was again clad in her
short skirt and blouse, and that at
her feet lay a pile of feathers. Then
the little old pian handed her a
tiny gold ring, which , he told her
to slip over her little finger, saying
to her as she obeyed his instruc
tions: "As long as you wear .that
ring no one will remember that you
once wore feathers!" and with these
words he disappeared and was seen
no more. But the little goose-girl
never forgot her lesson, nor did she
ever leave off the little gold band,
for fear soW one might sav to her;
"Where is your beautiful gown of
goose teatnersr
As the little willful princess fin
ished her story the two peasant girli
hung their heads as if very much
ashamed.
Then the little willful princess
took from her finger a pretty ring,
and, calling one of the girls to her,
said: "Here will I place this ring
upon your finger so that whenever
you see it you will remember how
narrowly you escaped wearing a
gown of goose-feathers."
And the Princess Elaine did like
wise, taking off one of her pretty
rings and placing it upon the finger
of (he other goose-girl, saying:
"Keep this ring to remind you how
you have also escaped the gown of
goose-feathers."
Then the two princesses went on .
their way, and when they had gope
some distance they smiled at each
other to think mayhap they had
taught a lesson that would never te
forgotten.
Now, as they drew near to the
old mill, the little willful princess '
came close to the niillpond, and,
seeing a frog asleep upon a log,
said to her cousin: "I feel, sweet
cousin, so goodey-goodey, that I
fear I may grovf angel wings if, I
continue." At which she picked up
a stone and threw it at the frog,
saying with a; merry laugh: "llad
I hit him, mayhap I should, have
turned into a frog princess!" Which
I am glad to say did not haparn, for
if would have ended this story right
her?, for how could anvone vms
about a willful frog prince
If
1