i i! if. 5 f I i r "'i ! & 1 it i Fag . S,sfi' 9s Busy Littl '5 pedal m Tlh HEfMalk Jik. E51 I! ' ' ' ' ' " ' " ' ' ' : ; ' " " ' f . -I. ....I 1 II. v Hp. Stories by Our Little Folks (Prize.) Edith's Lesion. Br I.nor MJor, Age 1J, Fullerton, Neb. Once there was a little girl whose tiame was Edith. Her parents were wealthy ami lived in a large house in Boston. Edith was very fond of the country and spent her summers there. When Edith was 6 years old she again went to the country. One day she went out for a walk through the woods by heself and her par ents told Tier not to go far. Edith was so delighted with the beautiful scenery that she forgot not to go far. She kept on gojng until she sot lost and did not know which direction .to go. Finally she came upon a man in the woods chapping wood. He asked where she wa going. She told him she wanted to go home, but had got lost in the ooris. She told him where she lived and he said" he weuld try' to find it. He started out the opposite direction and took her to the camp where the Gypsies were and left her there and she had to endure their cruel treatment for about a week. Then her father, who was anxious of her, came one day and found her here and took her home. She hacThad a very good lesson and never ran off again. (Honorable Mention.) Lambs at Gladys Home. OJlucly Swanoon, Lyuns, Neb.. Age t years. ) Dear Busy Bees: As I saw ray brother's letter in print I will write to you. I am in the fifth grade. My teacher's name in Anne Ruddy. I live one and one-half miles from school. I will tfy and tell you about our sheep. Papa bought four sheep We had thein quite awhile, when one morning we found a little lamb. It had a black face and four black legs. In about a week we got another. Then two more. So we have four lambs now. Their names are Nelly, Mary, Frankie and Helene. Frankie is mine, I have lots of fun with him and he will eat out of my hand. Good-by, Busy Bees. doe-ij sleep. He is as his mother. the same color i it it 8 5 A New Member. By Evelyn Shoemaker, Agt; 11. Grtind Inland, Neb. Dear Busy Bees: This is the first letter I have written to you. 1 have a little sister 5 years old. I have not gone to school for a whole week, for I have a very sore leg. I probably can't go all next week either. I have a story, but it isn't true. Here it is: Lois got sick and the doctor came. He took her pulse, asked a few questions, then said: "What do you dislike?" Lois replied, "I don't like castor oil. bad medicine, oysters, apricots, bread and milk, and most of all I dislike to go to school!" The doctor went in the other room with Lois' mother. He left some castor oil, bad medicine, oysters, apricots, and said for her to eat pjenty of them and also bread and milk. Lois soon got better and was glad to get to school again, for she didn't like the medicine. You see she really wasn't sick at all but didn't like to go to school. A French Chilli's Story. BX-Mfl rgrirt1! Abbott. Ape 9. Genoa, Neb. My Book and Studies. Cecilia Grady. Aga 11, Schuyler, Neil. I am writing my second letter. 1 was very glad to see my other letter in print, and I received the two let ters from Busy Bees, f study arith metic, English, physiology, history, geography and writing. 1 am in the seventh grade. Of all my studies 1 like history the best, but I like all the rest, too. I like to read books very well. We have a large book case 'of books at school. I have read them all. Some of my books are "Black Beauty," Grimm's -'Fairy Tales." "Tell It Again Stories," "Daddy's Girl," and "Bad Little Hannah." I will close for this time. Hcping more Busy Bees will write to nie. How to Draw a Donkey My Pet Dog. By Lury Miller, Age 10, .Stanton, Neb. Dear Busy Bees: I have not writ ten before, and I wish to join your hive very much. I am in the fourth grade and 1 like my teacher very much. I have a nice story to tell the rest of the Bees. It was a mud dy day when" our dog Fido got into a fight. You can imagine how he looked; he surely was'a terrible sight. I had a notion to scrub him, but my sister said that he would suf fer more than if I wouldn't do it. He had quite a sore on the side of his head. 1 sure felt sorry for him, but it is healed up quite well now. Well, I will have to close. Timothy. By Floyd Bennett. Harrison Street, South Side. Dear Busy Bees: I will tell you about Timothy. Tim was a nick name the boys gave him. Tim was a boy who always liked to be wild an Indian. One day in vaca- like tion he and another boy were play- ing Indian when, with their bows and arrows, they shot at a hole in a big tree. They went over to it and looking in saw they had killed a harmless mother squirrel. Then, like all rude boys, went away think ing it fine sport. But they were paid for this. Tim, while running after his arrow, stumbled and fell. Now the other boy was running, too, so when Tim fell he could not stop so he fell on top of Tim. They both got up with a bloody nose. They ran home and the next day went to see if the squirrel was dead. When they reached there they found her. dead body stretched out over her babies. Thev buried her and took her babies home to a pet pair Surely, any child would like to add an amiable donkey to his own private zoo. Well, then, why not draw or tract a donkey for yourself? Look hard at this drawing, put it away and see if you cannot draw the donkey from memory. Or, run your pencil over the black lines, to feel how to make the curves; then make your freehand drawing on another p.'.per. If you like you may take this drawing as the pattern for a wooden toy. Paste it on thin wood and cut it out with a knife or scroll saw, cutting on the outer edge of the black line, for the real shape of the donkey is shown by the inner edge oi the line. . If you draw a square ot any sie adding the diagonals and diameters, Lovely Sweetpea uiggles Blushes and Is Kissed by Sweet William s,.' 1 Being of a lender cons J'' hue a crotchety appetiti I ' is "iy fo id is prepare Yfif i:'-t to my li kill K I will of squirrels Tim had. There they were raised, but Tim could not help thinking of their poor mother who was dead. ' A Sad Story. Horace Sawyer, age 12, 410 Seventh v-, Shenandoah, la. Dear Busy Bees: This is the first letter I have ever written you. When I was in the hospital there was a poor little boy there who had tuberculosis of the bone,' and his mother would not come to see him hardly at all. He had to keep his leg held lip with a heavy iron weight. He was only about 3 years old then. But he is probably dead by now. Your friend, HORACE SAWYER. The Russian Bears Were Fussing Because Mrs. Bear Was Suffragist (Continued from -Last Sunday.) Mr. Russian Bear, who was by this time very, very hungry, tired and shivery, suddenly came to "the conclusion that he simply couldn't stand Mrs. Bear's despotism any longer, and that it was about time to assert his rights. When the cage. Dear Busy Bees: I am going to -i door swung wide and Mrs. Bear de- wnte yuu a little story told by a French child: Hello, American children! I sup pose you don't know me. I am a little French girl, and my name is Silvie. I am 9 years old and live in Paris. My father went to war and has never returned. My mother was killed in a bombardment. I was taken to a ho-ne for refugees. I felt very lonesome there, but soon cheered up, for there were other children there, and the nurses were very kind to me. Whn the American soldiers went through 1 went to see them. 1 felt thrilled through and through. Well. I will tell you the rest some other time, for the dinner bell is ringing. f The Fox Terrior and Her Pup. By Roy Llml'fleld aged 11, Ashland. Neb. May L join your Happy Hive? This is my first letter I have writ ten. I am in the sixth A and I am 11 vears old. My teacher is very parted for a meeting of the Allied I Animal Anarchists of the Prospect j Paik Zoo, he creft-softly out of the , cave under the rocks and made his ! way toward the house of Mr. Knowit Muchandall. the snow owl, who was said to be (he wisest bird ! in the captive animal world. As I he approached, Simon Snipandsnap I atem, the cross-eyed cinnamon bear, ; who had just come out of his ' smelly old den to get a breath of , fresh night air, called out, "Hello, ; Trotski, where are you going in ! such a hurry?" "I'm going to see Knowit Much i ai;dall about starting divorce pro i ccedings against my wife" answered Mr. Russian Bear. Simon Snipandsnapatem nearly fainted with surprise. "How on earth did you ever get : up nerve enough to do that" he ; gasped. "None of your darned business," growled Mr. Russian Bear, very : profanely. i "Oh, if that's the way you feel refurned the cinnamon crnnrt T cliicrri rirlinir ninti nftpfc hut about it there is no snow to co sliding onjK'ar' adding. Anyway I m going now. I have a Black Beauty sled- a,ong t0 see if you really do what I havo a Fox Terrior dog and she ; '" say you will ' So he trotted is black and white. She is about 1 j along beside Mr. Russian Hear, toot high and can do many tricks. Pretty soon they met old V anity She can run very fast and loves to fair, the peacock, who screamed at go hunting. She catTght a rabbit one day and was goiug to tear it to pieces, when I said drop that. She dropped the rabbit and 1 picked it them raucously and asked them where they were bound for. Old Vanity Fair's days of beauty were about over. "I think I'll come with you." she simpered. "It isn't often I have an opportunity to promenade with two such handsome gentlemen 1 Tee-hec-hee!" ' , "Good reasoij why," growled Snipandsnapatem under his breath, and, as for Mr. Russian Bear, he was too preoccupied with his own trou bles to came orte way or another. As they passed the monkey house little Bob-o-link, the spider monkey, came running out and, with a flying lead, landed right on Mr. Russian Bear's hairy back. I "Gimme a rkje," he yelled, joy ously. "Oh, shut up!" growled Mr. Rus sian Bear, morosely, but he let Bob-o-link stay where he had landed. They went on a little farther and there "the motley company met Mr. and Mrs. Rein Deer and all the little darlings, who were on the point of starting out on a picnic. Mrs. Deer had packed several neat parcels of sweet green grass and clover tops for lunch, and they had planned to spend the evening in the meadow down near the Yale of G.shmere where the lovers weren't quite'so thick as they were in other places. "Hello," said Mr. Deer. "What's up?" "Trot ski's getting a divorce!" shouted Snipandsnapatem, excitedly. "Crnie on and see the fun!" "Don't care if I do," rejoined Mr. Deer. "Doe-lores," he called to his wife, "wouldn't you rathet go along than have a picnic?" Mrs. Deer, who was very fond of scandal, answered in the affirma tive, and so the whofe deer family joined the procession, which had by this time swelled to the size of a lifted one leg from the perch, put it down again, and ruffled his feathers. "Rubbish!" he remarked. This was the sign that he wished to be allowed to use his brains, so all the animals held their breath and waited. After fully a half hour's delibera tion, he spoke, "Hm-minl" was all he said. "Wonderful." gasped all the ani mals in chorus, and poor Mr. Bear gave a sigh of relief. Surely, if anybody could help him, old Much andall could, and he felt that his troubles would soon be over? A sudden confusion at the edge of the paved courtyard drew the attention of everyone from old Knowit and his thoughtfulness to what was going on outside. A weird procession was seen com ing through the gate and across the cement flagging. It was headed by three or four of the porcupine police, whose duty it was to see that all the animals behaved themselves during their hours of freedom, and several more of the porcupines were lined Up on the side. Two of the timber wolves brought up the rear, dragging a little carts in which were a number of red flags and round, black sin ister looking- objects with long strings attached. The animals forgot the old snow owl in their excited curiosity as they crowded around the crowd of newcomers. Mr. Russian Bear even went so 1ar as to overthrow his chances of obtaining a decree of divorce by rushing to the fore in order to obtain a clear view of what was "going on. He gave one look at the proces sion and then to the horror of every one give a wild howl, and fainted dead away. "The' Painted Lath," but nn fragrance, th' most exquisite of a l.he little people, of the garden, mei i: loi ine my right to be callc sweet pea. ting of a lender constitution. etite and in preparer! tor 11 1 die hrMyer. I ( ihl earth near the top will new s :isfy my tastes. 1 like the so , ihat is two feet deep, and I want ! i,;c;.llv enriched the richer the be! t?r. With this kinl of food, an r.m open Mtnuy locatiort, giing n; j pY'ity of ligiit and fresh air. J con' ( i: u stop growing, no matter bo ii;iih 1 might be inclined to Of all the (lower-folk of the ga. '. ' ;i 1 like to live near best, it ;Sv ect Willhm. I like him at m ! icet. because he grows low an bti.-hy, and bears such enornioi in .ids of blossoms that spread oi ur and 'wide, and cover up my leg . j I have always been ashamed ' mv legs, they are so squawny an i i'1-shaped; a id my body too is vei I tlnu. My fingers are long at, 1 ttpering and with them I hold fa i to all tilings and bind the things.! !oe the best, around with tin , iings. ; Sometimes I stretch my neck j fir over the garden that I am afra; li will break. I am curious I wi . ! admit, but it is the curiosity of lov ! to ee all the children who visit tl j gardtn. because T never want the' io have without coming over to si ami 1 me. a shown by the dotted lines, you straight, reaay lor a nigni io evci.v (j,u, ay wi,en i was stretchm can draw a donkey, making your little boy and girl, who has a gar- : mv t see WM0 ti,e little gi oven pattern to fit auv piece of wood I b n. tvas coming in the garden gat ready for use. The grain of the 1 am dressed, in red, and white , sVeet William bobbed up and kissr v ood should run the long way of tnd pink. Of beauty of form 1 i nlc 0I, t(ie cheek. I blushed cri:, the tov so that it will not split have none; of fragrance and color j son an(j tri.efiK'd, and tried so har rasilv. La5t of all. of course, there only may I boast. . I to bide my face, but could not, at; : rvrr since thpn T have been ca! e gay colors has made many call nie ( Ke( Kj,jng Hood, or the scarlet j scented sweet pea. ,, , , ,' . ,, ,,. , Sweet William has always flirte : you o to nn i iei oicmi .... -;(le ,ratelv v.itl) nic an, he savs was a case oi love at nrst signt. By MARGARET M'SHANE On tin-toe I stand, tall comes the uaintine of the animal in Painted by Mother nature in such its proper colors. Snipandsnapatem ran for some water and Vantiy Fair spread her tail and fanned Mr. Bear's nose. When he, finally cjnie to .he sprang up and shouted, "Where is she? Where is that woman?" "Trotski, darling!" came a shrill scream from the crowd, and like a shot Mrs. Russian Bear tore herself loose from the porcupine police and threw herself upon the shaggy bosom of her dumbfounded husband. "Bolshi," gasped he, "where on earth did you drop from and what were you doing with those porcu pines?" "Dearest Trotski," wailed Mrs. Bear," flinging her arms around his neck. "Save me from those cruel beasts! They'll put me in jail. Oh, save me." Mr. Bear put her firmly behind him and summoning all bis dignity, walked up to the porcupine police menand demanded in a deep, gruff voice, "What were you doing with my wife?" "She's arrested on four charges," asserted Bill Spikesticker. the chief of police, defiantly bristling up all over as if he intended letting fly a couple of quills at Mr. Bear for hav ing dared to question - the action of the law. "What are they?" asked Mr. Bear showing his teeth. "Anarchist and Bolsheviki found with red flag and high explosives in her possession, high treason and alienation of affections on the part of Captain Jack, the African lion. Mrs. Captain Jack is bringing the matter into court 1" , Mr. Bear rubbed his forehead with his paw in a dazed fashion. "Bolshi," he sighed, turning to his cowering wife, who was hiding be hind his back. "Did you do all these awful things?" "Trotski, darling," she wailed, jail, would you -aeat . Here was his chance to assert himself. Mr. Bear puffed out his chest as if he intended telling Mrs. Bear that jail was' just the place for her, but when he caught sight of her woebegone expression, he wilted. "I suppose not, dear, he said meekly. Then he turned on the porcupine policeman. "Get out of here" he growled, lifting his big paw threateningly, as if to wipe them out of existence. "Your wife has to go to jail for treason," objected the porcupine weakly. "My wife is coming home with mei" roared Mr. liuian Bear. "She isn t a bolsheviki any longer, and she won't attend anv more meetings or carryany more bombs. She isn't going fooling around with Cap tain Jack, as long as I'm living, either, are you, Bolshi.'" ""o, darling," whimpered his wile, snuggling up to the side of her protector. The porcupines were so disguested. that they just turned tail and walked away with the gray wolves at tltfir heels, dragging the little carts with the bombs and red ilags behind them. In the eat. the first pale streaks of dawn couldbe seen, so the bears and the lions, the tigers and the moi;kevs the raccoons, wolves and cooing doves all made a mad rush for their cages, and in less time than it takes to tell, they were all in bed and asleep so that when their keeper came around in the morning he saw everything as it had been when he left the zoo the night be fore. And a far as I know Mr. and Mrs. Russian Bear have never had another quarrel. miniature circus parade. " Knowit Muchandall nearlv fell off and her tail feathers his perch when he saw what was . . - . I 1 . . . 1 - 1 V . . - l. 1 up. It was nothing out a young one. I were naaiy in neeu oi renovating, coming, our oeing a very wise uuu. She is afraid she is not going to get j but the poor old bird still retained j he said nothing at all, and waited to go hunting when she sees a gun. i a sort of queenly dignity in spite in silence to, hear Mr. Bear's tale She is 5 years old. J of her bedraggled condition. At of woe. Her little puppy is so fat he can j sight of Mr. Russian Bear and I When the much abused husband hardly walk. He is about 4 weeks Simon Snipandsnapatem, she spread j had fully aired his wrongs old old. He can bite very hard1 when he j the ragged remnant of her tail and Knowit Muchandall slowly closed gets ahold of your finger. All he i tilted her be? t coquettishly. lone eye and winked the other. He Baby Belgians Returning Home ; 1 : i I hope be does not think I try t Airst with him, for my tip-toe an Hide in the garden; but if you do, Mr. Sweet William, you are vei . much mistaken. But I like Sweet William vei v much. He is rafher a plain fellow. I know, but so pert and independent that I cannot held but like him. Oil, here conies old. Bumble Be -from the neighbor's garden. H teases nie to death for my hone ami sucks all I have. Often I havj ducked my bead when I have see him coming, but it. is of no use, foi my perfume I cannot hide and h -would find me even though I live ! in the clouds. Mr. Bumble Bee visits me ofter. W'th his big, yellow trunk, painte 1 round with black stripes, and Irs be;:rl cocked on one side, he feci himself lord and master of" all h surveys, and nips honey, here and there, at will. He does not visit the other flowers as much as he doc? us. He loves me for my brilliant color and my sister. Gait ty, for her pink and white stripes; and the our exquisite perfume drowns the scent of all the other flowers. This and Sweet William's atten tions causes a great deal of jealous'.' in the garden. Our jealous friends j say that wc paint red and white, j that we aim tn shine in nosegays i and that we stretch our heads so eofceitly far over our companions i that we might attract all gaze. It is true we love to shine in nnsr gays. for we are the queen of flow ers for nosegays. Tn be worn close to the heart of someone, who really loves you; ti be fondled, caressed, and admire! there, what could give greater hap pin"s.. The aroma of some stifles me si that I quickly sicken and die. wit'i other? 1 rati live for hours. I do not want to die. but we mii't all die sometime, and. if I do ni l livelong in nosegay, it is sweet t. die, ire-ed to someone's heart w love and to die of love, of the !o that some one little girl hob's for you. makes our happiness grea' er when we have passed on to 1 1 - -spirit world. For the last few day I have fe'' the northwest wind coming over 'he garden. It is so root that ! have to work hard to keep warr . but the ioy of ripe old age has con. upon nie. I have been no idle loafer ni th garden, who merely ate an( dra;S heartily, ami made no return t those, who gave me being. I have paid my debt of bloom t . the world. For this I came, and b this wealth of bloom 1 must pa' on to the spirit world, there to lb" and love and play with the lvs, ti- fleecy clouds, the night mists, at, ' the dewdrop. hoping not to be fo gotten by the little folks, for I w": think often of the ones who can to mv corner in the garden to vis with me, and give me drink, v.hr T hed with them cm Mothc Karth. The foe, driven from their martyred country, the Belgian children who have been sheltered in Switzerland, while the big taskwas in progress, are being sent hfrnie. Here is seen a group of them in charge of an rmt hard to American Red Cross officer ju'-t i their joy once betore the start. I bey are too sma:I to comprehend just what this new twist in their lives means, but it i- iin ag me w nat will ' c thev are back in o'd the familiar surrounding--, though home they left may still bear marks of "the invader's brutal he Xot all of the most valuable dog hi tlrs nresetjt war have been high digree. Thousands have bee oi-.t "plain dogs." It's what he Ca' do, not whence he came, that niaki a dog fir man worth while. iSSisSiiS