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r- - c f.is. ' ,8; jPT in Pictures. iw"'ij . r7 "WHY DON'T THEY COME " DOLLY'S DRESSMAKEB." CjVJ ILclgar Helps at Home. frfri RS. PEARSON came down with pale face and tired eyes. Baby Rex was teething, and restless and fretful, and her sleep had been broken and unrefreshing. She glanced anxiously at the clock and about the untidy kitcnen. ine table was not set; a skillet of potatoes scorched on the stove, sending tip a cloud of unsavory smoke ; Frank was slicing bread ; Edgar was putting the dry oatmeal in the dry boiler, and the dry tea-kettle snapped on a hot lid; Father Pearson fidgeted about, clumsily attempting sev eral things. : "I asked you to fill the tea-kettle, Frank," he said, as MrS4 Pearson, having set off the skillet, took the tea-kettle, and hastened to the sink. "I forgot; and now there's no water for coffee again, or oatmeal either!" Frank exclaimed. "Edgar, I thought you " - "And I thought you would; I don't see what you want to cut bread the first thing for, anyway," Ed gar retorted. .. "Don't wrangle, boys," Mr. Pearson interposed mildly adding, "Just give us anything, mother, so we ean be off." 'Til do the best I can, but the boys have burned the potatoes, and there's no time for coffee and oat meal,' she replied unsteadily, with discouragement in her voice. After a brisk quarter of an hour she re duced the chaos to a semblance of order, and pro duced something Jhat passed for breakfast, which was eaten hurriedly, in a gloomy silence. "You've got to. have help, some way, mother," Mr. Pearson said as he arose from the unsatisfac tory meal. "I don't sec how we can go on like this; and yet, until the outlook is 'setter "" "No," ..she. interrupted, "yuu know we've gone over it and over it! There's not a cent to spare from absolute necessities; you can't risk a failure when times: are fo hard. ,. We'll get on better when baby is well," She tried to speak bravely, but was stifling, a, nervous, sob. "We cannot sacrifice you; we must find some oth er wy",.,.He hurried, away, with anxiety added to his already heavy burden. . The. younger boys, late-bow for school, clattered about getting read, with Edgar's assistance. "Mother," he said, when they were off, "I might stay -at.-ijuptne ami help you." "No, dear, you; must not,jmss your lessons," she replied, thanking him with a kiss. . ' . These, were six boys-. in the, Pearson family or five joyj and the baby, as. they put it. .. . ... ... "AH wood.chopper&; not a dish-washer among them,r.. Father Penrson remarked sometimes, a little reeretfully itmuftbe admitted. ' With the care of -baby, and iookino; after the cloth ing and, comfort o the entire family, Mrs., Pearson had enough, "to ?do when the kitchen work and cook- imr were done for her; but now Edgar the thought ful shook Jus iTiead, ., 5. . ... j. He l.ad noticed how .woti. the dear, -mother was crowing. - 4citod Ms fChrs anxiety? he poudcred the situation earnestly,, and he and his THE older brother, Frank, talked it over that night in their room before going to bed. Frank had found Edgar reading when he came up to bed, and he tried to bring his brother to his way of thinking that one of the younger boys should help their mother more. Edgar listened to him for a -while, and then replied: "Xo, Frank, I have made up my mind. We can't go on like this, as father says; there's a job right here, waiting for somebody, and somebody's got to do it. You are father's right hand man in the store; Archie's too young, and, besides, he hates it like poison; Willie and Ted don't count for much, only at the table. That set tles it! I am the one to do it." When he came home at noon the next day he brought a bundle of gingham bought from his pri vate savings. "Couldn't you cut me a couple of long-sleeved aprons, mother, and run them up on the machine this evening?" he said, as he displayed the goods. , "Aprons!" cried Ted. "Are you goin' into a bakery?" "Yes; the home bakery," Edgar replied. TYou sec," he explained, seating himelf at the .table, "mother's got to have regular help.. What's every body's business is nobody's business; -we've proved that. Under the present system we all do a little, and none of us does much. Now I'm going to make the kitchen work my own particular business, moth er being my general-in-chief. I'll do all the cook ing as fast as I learn how, and all the dish-washing.." "Hired girl! Sissy!" exclaimed Ted 'and Willie together, laughing. ,. ; . "That's it," Edgar said good-humoredjy.. ,'Wc certainly need a sissy bad enougli in this family." "So. we do.; But it isn't an easy .place -to fill, and I'm afraid you'll make a poor substitute," comment ed Iris father. . ; "Wait a while and you'll change your mind,, fath er. I'm in earnest, and L mean to study cooking as I hope to study; law some day.", . . "But you mustn't leave" school, my dear," his . mother , said. , ' '..;...' "No, mother.-I -don't intend to. You'll all have to lie read j for breakfast a . half-four earlier, so I . can get my work done. Some girls do lots of work and 50 to school. . Mary Beach works for her board, jrtid I asked her all: about .it. She accomplishes a great deal, but I. think I can do as well, or . better, when I leara how;- A boy past six'ren ought to k as cmart as a .girl the same age." .."The hoys 11, make sport of you for doing girls' work." Archie reminded him. "Of conrse! I'expcct that! Guc-s I can. stand it. 1 We've all got io cat yet awhile- whatever we do in ihe ..future, vand it's a. good thing for a. fellow to know how .to. cook, sometimes.,'. Don't, you re jnember how -.Uncle . Toe said he wished he could cook when lie was in the .army?; Now. then, I'll waU these dishes .in a jiffy,;while mother puts Rexy to v He. took to the rork , with a cheerful, willing earnestness, and his mother's face brlgMened wit. ARGUS, SATURDAY, MAY 8, 1909. in, cxjpreosion of relief as she watched and guided hiai, and the plan began to look feasible. ( "Bat It won 'jt last. . Our Biddy will strike after a few weeks, of it." Frank prophesied one day. "And won't, the xrockery suffer!" Vii't. and see," Edgar replied. . Pay after day be tramped about the kitchen like a warrior, conquering the difficulties that arose, with a. persistent patience and a comforting cheerfulness. , His mother often smiled to hear his merry whistle or boyish roundelay, to the accompaniment of rat tling pans and kettles. He developed a deft quick ness. atH the crockery suffered no more than th. us ual accidents Prom the first he was not at all ashamed of his job," and answered the door-bell, if his mother was not in the house, in his apron if necessary. Once, so garbed, he conducted, the minister into the parlor, blushing under the good man's warmly ex pressed approbation. Of course when the boys got liold of it they set r.pon him. 't-'.nc into the Biddy business, I hear," Ralph Cone teased. "Yep." Edward smiled on the crowd of boys. ."Ho, ho! sloshing in the dish-water like a girl," jeered Bob. 'N'o, I slosh like a boy, and I'm having more fun than you could shake a stick at." Edgar laughed, and he thought of "Tom Sawyer." "Fun!" That was news. ''Yep. You just ought to see me knock the spots out of the bread-dough. It's great! Beats the punching-bag all to pieces. You see, 1 bake a whole lot at once, and have a pile of dough; I roll jup my sleeves, scrub my fists till you wouldn't know them, and play I'm a prize-fighter, and cuff, and maul, and pound that dough in a way to make your eyes pop. It's soft and .doesn't hurt your hands, and the more you beat it the better bread it makes. It's great sport!" It sounded like it, the way he told of it. Some of the boys doubled their fists and thumped an imag inary dough-pile, wishing they could try the real thing. "But it's women's work, all the same, and noth ing m it. You wouldn't catch me at it" Tom Smith declared. "Now look1 here.", . Edgar took from his vest pocked a dpuble sheet of letter-papei on which he had pasted a clipping from a newspaper, which he had ready for such an occasion. "Just listen to what some men get for doing this kind of 'women's work.'" He. read; them a clipping of an account of the salaries paid to some of the great chefs. "Wh-e-e-w!" whistled tialph. "Thousands of dol lars! Whaf a lot for just cooking!" - '"Just for cooking,'" quoted iEdgar. "Did you never think, son, how , important cooking is, and eating, - too? Tom has, I know," and they all laughed, for Tom could do wonders in the matter of eating. "I don't know as I'm so much more given to eat ing than the rest of you." Tom protested, "unless it's doughnuts.. Say, do they let yon make.'em, Ed?" 'I should say.so! -by the peck! I can make dandy ones, too! Going to make a lot Saturday; if you fellows H tome rpund about ten, I'll let you sample 'em. . But you've got to stay on the 'back porch, for i scrub Saturday mornings, aud I won't have you tracking the floor." . They were, there, and watched enviously as he nourished about, magnifying his importance, and "AT THE SIDE DOOR." 7 ' AT THM MCIC DOOft. patronizingly distributing two cakes each. Crisp and brown and fragrant, just from the kettle, ""hey left with the impression that his was an enviable posi tion, and spread abroad his skill as a cook; and his fame grew. . - . He kept at it all winter, learning readily because he put his mind to it, 3nd doing the cooking to the satisfaction and content of the family, and with considerable pride in his own dexterity. His moth er often declared that she would never get such another worker. "I don't know that I'd care to go intp.it as a life business, but while I'm getting ready for some thing else, this is good enough," he said at times. Early one morning in June, soon after school had closed, a young man Called at the Pearson home. "I hear that you have a young fellow here who can cook. May I see him, please?" he asked Edgar came forward, aproned from chin to shoes. "I do a little in that line," he said. ....... "How much of a little? And are you open to an offer of a situation?" "To go out cooking?" Edgar exclaimed, and his brothers at the table could not refrain from laugh ing. Even his mother smiled. The stranger smiled, too. explaining: "A lot of our club fellows go up to the Lakes every summer; we have a camp there and a good outfit, but we find it difficult to get a reliable cook and caretaker. We come and go, and want some one trustworthy there all the time. You're younger than I expected, but you look dependable. What kind of cooking can you do?" "Most of the plain and some of the frills, like pie and gingercake, doughnuts and rice-pudding." Ed gar hastily ran over the list of his accomplish ments. "You'll do; we never had a man who could cook as much. We give fifty dollars a month and ex penses. We would want you next week, and prob ably until the last of September. What do you say?" "I'll go, and cook my prettiest," Edgar replied ex citedly. "We'll call it settled, then," replied the visitor. "My name is Thompson, and I will be at the sta tion to-morrow in time for the 12.30 afternoon train. Meet me there." It was a hot June midday when Edgar arrived at the station. He was there ahead. of time; no one was about the building but a cab man removing come baggage from the box-seat, and a perspiring iceman lazily crossing the street with the daily charge for the waiting-room ice-cooler. As F.dgar drew nearer, however, Mr. ""hompson came down the steps with his grip-sack and rods, and failed his new cook. Together they went acrdss the street and bought a few things at the hardware-store. As the time approached for the departure of the train, Edg:ir's friends began to arrive, and . soon it seemed that every boy he ever knew was there. " Edgar boarded the train, to an accompaniment of cheers from tl.e boys. I" t he was saying to him- self: "Three months at fifty dollars a month! I'll get rich! Mother shall have a good Bridget in my place. I see my -way through college! I'll cook my self through! Hurrah! Hurrah!" The boys saw him off with considerable envy. . "Just think of all the fun you're going to have, and get paid for it, too!" Ralph said. "Why, boy," Edgar chaffed, "it's nothing but women's work just a sissy dish-water job," and he waved his hat from the car window." 0 T HE Princess sat in a ha!r of state, A lady of high degree: , - Her garments hee and her stately mien Were a goodly sight to see;', . . , 1 The children cried as they gazed with pride, " Then ran to' their games away "We must leave her there she is far too fair And fine for every day!" THE Princess mourned her lonely fate As she sat in her chair apart; . "How I long for the bliss of a child's sweet Ida And the love of a child's true heart 1 . One fond caress might spoil my dress. So I never may join their play. Unhappy me! It is sad to be -Too fine for every day!" T HE Princess fell from her chair of irate 1 (Was it chance, or a bold design?) ; . As the dog passed by, and she caught his eye And she never more was fine! . -The children came from their joyous game To soothe her pain away, And she smiled to know, as. they kissed her She was fit for every day! HANNAH G. FERNALD. PANSIES. When pansies came, a trifle hit..-. The garden looked so gay, They feared there were no colors left. Their . hearts shook with dismay. But sunshine kissed them comforted, - And little threads of rain Came down, with many colors. And made them grave again. So one was crowned with . purple. And one with sunshine's gold; Another blossomed like a flame, And. warmed the Spring from cold. "The pansies are ..the dearest," The children gaily said; - . "They're like a broken rainbow. Caught in a garden bed." ;:'".. CHARLOTTE E. CHITTENDEN. MABEL'S CHARITY. LITTLE MabeL while she's sitting Or, it may (be, when she's flitting Through the house is always knitting. What a busy girl you" say. Sure, a noble work she's doing Some sweet charity pursuing Knitting thus from day to day. And I think I hear a babel -Of young voices, praising Mabel; Wishing, too, that they were able To be so industrious. . And perhaps another ftelin Into their warm hearts i stealing Which we might call envious. Yet while weeks and days are going. And the knitting, too. is growing, What good work is Mabel showing? What sweet charity begun? For there's not a friend or neighbor Who knows aught of . Mabel's lioor. Or one good deed she Kas done. Ah, you little folks ?te guessing, I dare say, the fact distressing, Which I must be now confessing; A fact that everyone admits Parents, teachers, playmates floutin.r Frownirrg, fretting, scolding, pouting- 'Tis her eyebrows Mabel knit si By MARY F- K. HUTCHINSON. OW s'pose you're five or six years - Or seb'n or eight or nine, -j An' have a ma thet's awrful good - N (Ermost ee good ex mine ) ; An' s'pose yer brithday comes eround. What's goin ter happen then? ---i i Say! 1 don't think you're very smart To have ter guess again ! You'll have a birthday party! An youll invite Oh, everyone ., You know, onless you're mean! An' all the boys '11 git there fust. . All lookin slick an' clean, y . An' all the girls, in dress-up duds, Wifl act ez if they're dumb Except Nell Jones, who giggles so Folks wish she hadn't cc.mc. When there's a birthday T- Big sistfr'll try to start some games, ' Bat that won't help a bit; i .": Yer oui't play even blind-nan's buff - When no one will be "it!" An' ev'ry game that she thinks up V These kids "do'wanter play"; They jest stan' round, look at thcrcst In aa epectin' way. When there's a birthday party! - But when yer ma sez jest five words: "Now. children, come this wav.r An lead, 'em towards the dinin'-roorr " Things change "be t then, and saj !. Them boys an girls all a1k at once An' never "think o? sches. ' - " While they jest stuff with. lolly-nor . Ice-cream. an mrtsarf cakes An thafs ibx -birthday (art,