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Boys and Girls
A HANDSOME APOLOGY. Ned and his grandmother are the best of friends, but sometimes the little boy's tongue is too quick to please the old lady. Then Ned apologizes after a fashion of his own, which his grandmother approves. # "I got tired lugging that wheelbarrow for grandmother while she was changing her plants," Ned said to his mother, recounting the day's events at bedtime, "and I said: 'I wish there wasn't another speck of this hateful dirt in all the world!' But then afterwards I 'pol ogized." "I'm glad of that," said'his mother. "Did you tell her you were sorry?" "No, ma'am;. that is not the kind grand mother likes best," said Ned. "I got another / wheelbarrowful and just said: 'Don't you want some more of this nice dirt, grandmoth er ?' And then we were all right again."? Exchange. CHRISTMAS FOE FRENCH CHILDREN. Dear Boys and Girls: Ruth Jennings has written suggesting that Ave all work together and pack a box for each of our French children. Isn't that a lovely idea? I don't think any of us could think of anything that would be a better way to celebrate Christmas. (lifts will have to be sent to me as soon as possible. They must be something that will not get broken or crushed in the mail. You may put the name of some special child on your gift, or you may leave it unmarked and let me send it to the one who has the few est gifts. Be sure to put your own name and address on your gift so that whoever gets it can write to you. I think the little girls would like celluloid ? lolls, dressed like American children, but china dolls might be ready for the hospital by the time they get there. The boys would like just the things that our boys like, but don't select very heavy hings. We couldn't send an iroi? train, for instance. Something that you can make yourself is always the best gift. The French girls and boys would like Tb see what yofl can make. A knit scarf, cap or mittens would be good for either boy or girl. Pic tures would do, but not books or games that have directions in English. We have nine French children now, and are beginning to work for one orphan from the Near East. % I hope a great many of you will help by sending some little thing. If you have some thing that you have used and enjoyed, but have pot injured, you might like to send that. Let's work together! H. A. A BRAVE FIREMAN. By Adelaide A. Wheeler. Nancy Bryant's father was a fireman. He could never stay at homo long with mother and Nancy, because he had to spend so much time at the fire station. But one cold winter night he was able to get away, and after supper Nancy said : "Oh, father, let's play parchcesi tonight?" "All right, I'd like to," father replied, "if mother will play, too." So Nancy ran for her parcheesi board and soon father, mother and Nancy were having a fine game. All at once^ they heard a loud "clang" ! It was the big bell in the living room which always rang when there was a fire. Father jumped up and hurried for his coat and hat. "Oh ! I'm so sorry that you have to go out again this cold night," said mother. "Isn't it too bad," cried Nancy, "when we were having such a good time I" "Yes," father replied, "I'm sorry, too, but some one needs me." Then he opened the door quickly and ran down' the street to the fire station as fast as he could go. Nancy jumped up and hurried over to the window. "Clang, clang, clang!" There was the hose cart. "Clang, clang, clang!" The hook and ladder went whizzing by. Then oamo the flying . sparks of the big engine. Father was on the back, and Nancy peered through the darkness to see him, because she knew he always waved his hand as he passed. When the firemen reached the fire, they found that a house was burning. Grabbing their hatchets, they leaped from the wagons, connected the hose, and got to work! A crowd soon gathered and some one cried, "There is a little girl upstairs!" Father Bryant called out, "I will get lier!" The firemen quickly raised a ladder to the window and up went Father Bryant. In the house the smoke was so thick he could not see, so he dropped on his hands and knees, because the smoke is never quite so thick near the fioor. Feeling his way as best he could, he crept along from room to room until at last he heard a little girl crying. "Don't cry, little girl," lie said, "I'll take you out all right." Then he wrapped a big blanket around her so that she was safe from the flames, and carried her in his arms back to the window. When the crowd that had gath ered saw him bringing his little burden down the ladder, they cheered and cheered. The little girl's father rushed forward and caught her in his arm3 and after he had hugged her close, turned to Father Bryant, and said: "How can I ever thank you enough?" "That's all right," replied Father Bryant, "I have a little girl of my own at home." THE DESPISED SEED ONIONS. "I've done setting out all the large ones, father," said Harry. "I'm going to throw all these little old things away; I've g<Jt the bed full." * The little old things Harry was speaking about were small onion sets. Harry lived in. the country, and had been helping his father in the garden by putting out the onion bed. Mr. Byrd stood 'looking down at the small sets for a moment before replying. "Looks like it's a shame to throw all these things away just because they are little," he said at last. "If they were put out carefully, they would make big, fine onions. Of course they're troublesome to put out, but it seems to me they ought to have a chance to show what they could do in the way of growing. It just doesn't look right to throw them ajvay because they are little." Harry looked at his father and then looked down at the tiny onion sets. "I guess I could rake up another bed for those, father," he said soberly. "I didn't think about them wanting a chance to grow or any thing like that." "Suppose you do that," returned Mr. Byrd. "and whatever you raise you may have for your own, to sell or do what you please with." Harry looked at the little sets, had grave doubts about their growing into anything big enough to sell, but he made up his mind to give them* a chance, so ho set about to make the best bed for them that could be made by a small boy, and when it was finished, he care fully put out the little onion sets ? not one was thrown away. He was a very tired little boy when the last one had been planted. Six days later Harry werft down to the gar den one morning to see if there was any sign of growing things in his onion bed; there had been a warm, gentle rain during the night, and TTarry gave a little cry as he looked. His onion bed was covered with tiny green shoots ? t not one little set had failed to come up. He ran back to tell his father the wonderful news. "And will they keep growing, father?" ho asked. "If they are worked, they will," said Mr. Byrd. "Then you may be sure they'll grow," an swered Harry. And they did grow, for never was an onion bed better tended. There came a day when they were ready to be taken up. And when they were all up and measured, there were five bushels. Harry's face fairly beamed with pride. ".Tust think, father," he said, "I was going to throw them away 'cause they were so -little." "Little opportunities, like little onions, often grow into big ones," returned Harry's father. "Always remember the lesson of the little ? % onions, my son, and do not forget, among other things, that kind acts, however small they seem, may be seeds that will grow into something big and fine, so plant as many little seeds of kindness as you can." ? Exchange. Children's Letters NATURAL BRIDGE. Dear Presbyterian: I am a little boy seven years old. My papa is a Presbyterian minis ter and has taken your good papdr many years. We live near the great Natural Bridge. It is a curiosity. I have a pet eat. His name is Blackie. My aunt from Florence, S. C., is go ing to send me a little dog. I recited the Child's Catechism the second Sunday in September. My papa will soon send for my Testament and diploma. He is at Lynchburg holding a meet ing. I hope my little letter will be printed as I want to surprise my papa when he gets back. Also my grandma and. auntie in Wilmington, N. C. Your little friend, Buchanan, Va. Hampton Fix Eubank. Dear Hampton: We are glad you wrote to us and are sure papa, grandma and the aunts will be pleased with your letter. Write us about the new dog when he comes. H. A. SPECIAL MEETING. Dear Presbyterian : I am a little girl twelve years old, in the Micaville Presbyterian Sun day-school. We had a meeting at our church last week. Mr. King, of Kingsport, Tenn., preached for us. I joined the church during the meeting. Miss Corson, our Sunday-school worker here, is going to leave us soon, but 1 hope she will come back. Your little friend, Micaville, N. C. Gladys Honeveutt. Dear Gladys: We are all glad to hear from you and to know that you joined the church. Indeed I am sure you want Miss Corson to re turn. You must miss her very much. Write to us again. ' H. A.