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Stories by Our Little Folks
(Prize.)
Red Cross Dog.
by Catherine Jlankt. Aired IS Tears;
iSOi North Twenty-fourth Street,
Omaha, Neb.
I have just returned from the
battlefield, best known as "No
Man's Land." Everywhere I looked
I could see soldiers, wounded, dying
or dead.
Sometimes I am sent out on
scouting trips with a number of
other dogs. When we arrive at the
battle line we part and see who can
be the first to find a soldier needing
help.
We always carry first aid kits
strapped on our backs, for there
are many soldiers who can bandage
their own wounds.
As it is time to have dinner now
will close my story here. Perhaps
I may see you when I return to
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5 U.,M. rninn .
Jenny'a Adventure.
Br Myrtle McDonald, Aced It, Blair, Neb.
One nice day as Jennie Brown was
playing by the roadside, her mother
called her and -told her to come in
the house; that she did without be
ing told again.
Her mother said, "Now, dear,
what would you do if I should let
you go to the woods?"
Jenny said: "I would play, dear
mother."
So her mother made her some
candy and baked her a little cake,
so she could have a'lunch.
After getting her hat and lunch
she started off. It, was i bright
sunny, summer day and the sky was
blue, so she did not need a coat.
She went into the woods and aft
er playing an hour or so she sat
down to rest. The birds were sing
ing and the squirrels were chatter
ing about in the trees. That made
her very happy. She opened her
lunch basket and said to herself. "I
i: am getting hungry and I think I will
i .... c . . r J .1,:.....
She ate until she had had enough and
then she thoueht of the Door little
birds up in the trees. She again
y opened her lunch basket and scat-
K tered the crumbs of her cake around
' on the ground and then she hid be-
2J (hind a large bush until the birds
'came to eat the crumbs.
Presently there were ten birds eat-
i! injf the crumbs.
, Jenny said, "It is getting late so I
will have to go home," so she picked
; up her little lunch basket and started
I ome very pleased and happy.
A New Bee.
By Kenneth Fink. Aged 10 Yeara, Wel
lington, Neb
I used to live in Cody, Neb., but
a year ago I moved to Wellington.
I, have one sister and used to have
a' brother. He joined the army at
Bonner, la., and then he went to
Deming, N. M., and got the measles,
and then pneumonia, and died in
January, 1918. I read the Busy Bee
page every Sunday. I belong to the
Methodist church. I hope to see my
letter in print, because this is the
first tima I have written.
My First Letter.
9r Louie Heald, Aged 11, Oaceola, Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: This is the first
tima I have written to you. I am 11
years old and in the sixth grade at
Our Picture Puzzle
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Complete the picture by drawing a line through the dots beginning
at Figure 1 and taking them numerically.
RULES TOR YOUNO
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 prize book will be given
each week for the best contribu
tion. Address all communication! to
Children's Department, Omaha
Bee, Omaha, Neb.
AMERICA.
America! They ardent stars aspire!
They shine resplendent, having
pierced their way,
They show the promised land where
Christ shall slay
The wily Serpent's brood. Here
burns the fire
Of liberty and hope that shall in
spire To rise and overthrow the reign of
clay.
Manasseh's Eagle soars. Behold the
Day
Desired of all. The despot's fitful
ire
Flits out. Immortal sonship, crown
ed of God,
Shall reign as King and priest in
realm of Mind.
With constitution sound and broad,
a state
Established firm in Truth, thy
mighty rod
Of potent Love shall chasten all
mankind, ,
Until upon the Lord they learn to
. wait.
SIBYIfMARVIN HUSE.
Jfelen
school. Schools have been closed
for a long time on account of the
"flu." I read the children's page
every Sunday. I like to read it. I
saw one of my friend's letters in
the paper last Sunday. We have a
tiger cat and we call him Bill. When
I put my hand before his face he
will bite me. He sits up for his
milk and begs for meat. We took
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plods his weary way
from day to day.
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him riding in the car once and he
got scared and tried to jump
through the window and bumped his
head, for the window was shut. My
letter is getting long, so I will close
for this time.
Generous Alice.
Br Violet Sutherland, Aged 11. Stanton
Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: Once there was
a boy and girl. The girl's name was
Alice and the boy's name Joe
Sanderland. Their father was dead,
so the mother 'had to take care of
them. They were. rich. It was
about Christmas; Alice and Joe were
over to their friends. Alice asked
her friend what she was going to
get for Christmas and her friend
said she was not going to get any
thing because they were too poor.
And when Alice returned she told
her mother what her friend had
said.
Alice's mother told her to give
them some of her toys, so Alice and
Joe went up and Alice got her dolly
and fine dresses for it and a . doll
buggy. Joe got a rocking horse,
ball and a toy train and gave it to
Agnes and Stanly, and they were
very, very happy. So were Alice and
Joe.
My First Letter.'
By Harvey Heald, Aged 9 Osceola,- Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: This is my first
letter. I am 9 years old and in the
fifth grade at school. We are not
having school here on account of
the Spanish ."flu," but will have to
make it up on-Saturdays. I've had
the "flu," but am well now. Mamma
had the "flu," too, and took sick
Thanksgiving day. We have a cat.
His name is Bill. My letter is get
ting long, so wilt close by wishing
you all a Merry Christmas and a
Happy New Year.
- A Dog Story.
Br Clifford Lapp, Aged 11, Stroma
burg. Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: This is my first
letter. I am going to write about
my dog.' His name is Tip. He
likes to ride in the car. One
day when we were going in
the car, Tip saw a rabbit by
the side of the road and jumped
out after- it. He wept over and
over. When we stopped for him to
get in. he was running for the
car. He likes to play. If you throw
a stick and tell him to go after it
: :,!
Juvenile
As Leo Ornstein is getting to be
a famous pianist, though still little
more than a lad, you ought to hear
him, or hear something about him,
at any rate. It seems like yester
day when Leo Ornstein, a boy prod
igy, made his first appearance in a
concert hall in New York City. He
came out on. the stage, a boy with
wavy hair falling over his face and
brilliant eyes, and he sat down to
the piano and played in a brilliant
manner. 'He made quick, rushing
runs from one end pf the keyboard
to the other, and he played with
feeling and expression. He played.a
long program, and at the close his
friends crowded around him. It
could well be seen that he hid come
out into the world that night as a
full-fledged pianist, no matter if he
was only a lad. Since then Leo Orn
stein has "done his bit" in music
with sure, telling strokes. His play
ing has been taken down for records,
he will go and bring it back. He is
a good rat and mouse, dog. One
day when papa went away Tip stop
ped at a pile of boards and started
to bark. A man asked papa what
he was after. Papa said that he
was after a rabbit or a rat. The
man took the boards down ai '. a
rat ran out. and Tip caught it and
killed it. The man jvanted to buy
Tip but papa would not sell him.
Well, I .will close for this letter.
This is a true story and I wish to
see it in print.
A Good Cat.
By Isabella
Sutherland, Aged
Stanton, Keb.
-Tear a.
Dear Busy Bee: I am going to
write about a rabbit. My kitten
found it one day and she did not
eat it. She treated it just like she
had her kittens. I was proud of
her. We all thought she would eat
it, but she did not. This is a true
story.
Pet Chickens.
By Louia Reese, Aged 10, Randolph, Neb.
Dear Little Busy Bees: I am a
reader of the Children's page and
like it very well. I would like to
tell about my pet chickens. I have
nine little chickens. Five, of them
are without a mother, so I take care
of them. When they were real
Little
Helen
of the
Roses
The photographer must
have caught Helen in the gar
den, forshe looks like a wood
land fairy with her armful of
dewy roses. This pretty
Busy Bee, with her big blue
eyes, is very fond cf the great
outdoors and she is planning
a really, truly garden of her
own next spring, when the
flowers awake from their long
sleep and shake off their
blanket of snow.
X- 1..
Musicians
and early last summer there was a
gathering of celebrated musicians
and critics, as well as an audience of
concert-goers, to hear his records
playsd at Carnegie Hall. It was an
eerie, ghostlike experience, the big
piano standing on the stage, with no
one seated at its keyboard, playing
the first movement of Ornstein's rec
ord of the Concerto, with a big or
chestra assembled on the platform.
We could see the keys of the piano
go down and up as if moved by
magic, and the orchestra accom
panied this weird pianist in perfect
time. But at last the music stopped,
and then Leo Ornstein stepped out
on the platform; he bowed before he
sat down to the piano to play the
second movement of the Concerto.
Ornstein has composed some wild,
strange music, and some delightful
music, too. He is a genius, you see,
and you . must try to hear him play
if possible.
small their mother left them so I
went down to the barn and caught
them. They have been growing very
we'll since then and are quite large
now.
I live on a farm and go to school.
The school is a mile off. I am
in the fifth grade. My teacher's
name is Wilma Fariiam. We like
her very well. There are 11 pupils
in the school. Well I hope to see
my letter in print. And hope some
of you Busy Bees will write to me.
A New Member. ,
By Dorothy Lyman, Aad $ Teara,
Spencer, Neb.
Dear Busy Bees: I wish to join
yr,ur happy circle. My name is
Dorothy Lyman. I am 9 years old
I live in Spencer. Neb. I have a
dog, his name' is Feclie. He is black
and has white paws. He can set up
on his hind legs and then you put
a cigar in his mouth and he will
?moke it; if you lie down he will
come and take your cap and hide
it If you like this story I will
write another.
Let me be a little kinder,
Let me be a little blinder
To the faults of those about me
Let me be, when I am weary,
Just a little bit more cheery.
- ; i 4 iff 1 I
Upon the rugged hills of Scot-J
land, a poor shepherd, by name
james Hogg, watched his master's
flocks, and always in obedient at
tendance his faithful dog Sirrah fol
lowed closely at his heels. James'
father and grandfather and great
grandfather had all been shepherds
before him, so the lad knew no other
trade. At times the flock numbered
as many as 500 sheep and as many
lambs. These had to be driven to
the pastures covering the hills and
watched carefully that none strayed.
Day after day James and his dog.
Sirrah, drove the flocks from one
grassy pasture to another, but at
noon hour the dog was intrusted
alone while the shepherd ate his din
ner by a spring or took a short rest
under a shady tree.
One dark night James and Sirrah
were on the hilltop with a flock of
700 sheep and lambs when a severe
thunder storm arose. The wind
whistled shrilly and the thunder
rolled whilethe lightning forked
every way. As the rain poured down
incessantly the poor little lambs
grew so frightened that their bleat
ing made the sheep run hither nd
thither. Finally they started a stam
pede, some in one direction and
some another. The distracted
shepherd wandered up and down the
hills, with lighted lantern in his
hand, calling for his flucks. But no
sound or sight could he get of a
single one. Even Sirrah seemed to
desert his master in this trying ex
perience. Two or three other shep
herds joined James in the search,
but morning came and still they
sought for the flocks in every likely
place where the sheep might have
Child Rulers
On Christmas Day 'we celebrate
the birthday of a boy child born
over 2,000 years ago in the tiny city
of Bethlehem of Nazareth. A little
Jewish boy was this Jesus of Naz
areth, brought up under the Jewish
law as were all other little boys in
those days and in that country.
Only His mother, Mary, knew
that He wai a very special little,
boy and He knew even more than
Mary, that He carried in His heart
a great message of love and life to
all mankind.
As He grew older He began to
speak that message. He began to
tell men of God, His Father, the
Sources of Life and of All life and
love. He began to teach the mar
velous strength and power of that
love, and so deep was His knowl
edge of the law of Spirit that He
made wonderful cures of all manner
of diseases.
Great multitudes thronged about
Him for the blessing of His word
and the power of His healing, and
th; ears ot all the world of that day
were filled with His name. But
soon the priests and kings began to
fear this great new power. .They
were jealous of Jesus' fame and
sought for an excuse to rid the
world of him. They soon found
what they looked for and one day
thev put him to death.
They put the man Jesus to death.J
but the Christ and His great and
glorious message still live. They
could break his body, but they never
could silence the voice of Spirit
God and today that Voice is sing
ing out through the whole world,
"Peace on earth, good will toward
men," and every little boy and girl
can know that on every day in every
heart the Christ Child may be born
'How-the Birds Build Their Nests"
By MRS. J. M. JOHNSON
Would you know how the birds build their nests?
Then listen to me,
Some build on the ground, others under the eave,
And some in the top qf the highest trees.
v "I'll build my nest on the ground," said the Lark,
"And with grasses I'll cover it o'er.
The sweetest songs I'll sing to you,
And higher than all birds I'll soar."
"In the thick foliage I'll build my nest.
Vnd through the day keep very still.
When other birds have gone to rest,
You'll hear the song of the Whippoorwill."
'Til build my nest," said the Oriole,
"Like a hammock in the top of the tree.
And when the winds blow lightly,
They will rock my birdies and me." '
"I'll build my nest," said the Swallow,
"My home shall be under the eaves.
It shall be strongly built of mud,
N Well lined with plenty of leaves."
"In a tree that is dead," said the Woodpecker,
"I will dig a hole with my bill.
And put away plenty of food to eat,
When the winds blow cold and chill." 0
''And for me," said the little House Wren,
i "Most any place will do.
I sometimes use a small tin can,
i Or build in a worn out shoe."
"And I," said the American Blue Bird,
"With my colors red, white and blue.
Will build my home in a box in a tree,
Where I can warble away to you.
taken shelter. But no
were to be seen.
At least, weary and. discouraged,
James said: "It's of no use; I must
go to the master anu tell him I have
lost his flock." So. with heart ch-
ing for the dear lambs he loved,
the sorrowing shepherd started to
ward home.
He had gone about two .miles
when he came to a deep and narrow
ravine that ended in a wide pocket
between the cliffs, but was ap
proached by a gradual descent from
the hills where the flocks usually
fed. Here James thought he spied a
tew lambs gamboling about the
bushes. He swung himself out upon
a ledge of rock to better see if they
could be his, and there he saw Sir
rah upon a flat-topped rock, stand
ing guard over the entire flock, pa
tiently waiting for his master's help.
James called, to his friends and all
soon were at the bottom of the ra
vine counting the lambs. All were
there! Not one was missing". Then
Sirrah was proud, as his master
praised his wisdom and patted the
shaggy head.
But how did the dt.,4 ever man
age' to gather the scattered flock to
gether and hold them in the pneketT
N"o one ever could tell, as Sirrah
kept silence and only his wise eyes
tried to explain.
During the ' solitude upon the
hills James Hogg taught himself to
read and write, and as he grew up
to young anhood he loved poe
try so dearly thi. he ofttimes
wrote poems for other to read and
enjoy. His name became quite fam
ous throughout Scotland, and he was
known as the shepherd poet. Many
of his poems were written fur chil
dren. -
of the World
again in the Spirit thoughts of
kindness, gentleness, truth and
great love, and every day may be a
Christmas Day for o all because
on every day we can speak the
great message and carry on the
beautiful work of the little boy of
Nazareth born so long ago, rmt still
ruling the whole world with the
Christ power and love and life and
truth. JOSEPHINE PERCY.
YOU ARE IN GOD'S WORLD.
You are in God's world. You are
God's child. These things you can
not change; the only peace and rest
and happiness for you is to accept
them and rejoice in thtm.
When God speaks to you, you
must not believe that it is the wind
blowing or the torrent falling from
the hills. . . . All othere sounds
will be caught up in the prevailing
richness of that voice of God. The
last proportions will be perfectly
restored. Discord will cease; har
mony will - be complete. Philips
Brooks.
LOYALTY HELPS ONE.
Loyalty is the quality which .
prompts a person to be true to the
thing he undertakes. It nieaas
deefinite direction, fixity of purpose
and steadfastness. Loyalty sup
plies power, poise, purpose, ballast
and works' for health and- success.
Nature helps the loyal man. If you
are careless, slipshod or indifferent.
Nature assumes you wish to be a
"nobody" and grants your desire.
Success hinges on loyalty. Be true
to your art, your business, your em
ploye. . . Loyalty is for one
who is loyal. It is a quality woven
through the very fabric of one's
being and never a thing apart.
Mahins.
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