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THE MUSICAL FAIRY.
Once there was a little musical fairy named Monotone. The Queen of Music Land sent him to live in a teakettle in the home where there was a little crippled boy named Ralph, whose mother had to leave him alone all day, while she went to work. "You are to stay in the teakettle and make music," the Queen said to Monotone, and for a long time he dwelt there. He was as happy as the day was long, and while little Ralph sat by the window, or hobbled around on his erutches to tidy the room and keep the tire go ing. he used to listen to Monotone's voice. ' ' Hubble ? bubble ? bubble. ' ' How happy Ralph was to hear him. To him the "bubble, bubble, bubble" said many things. It sang of the good mother who was working away so hard to get food and shelter for her little boy. It also sang to him of the future when mother had earned money enough tha-t he might go to the big hospital and be made strong and well. Then he could learn to play the violin that father had when ho played in the big orchestra before he died, and the "bub ble, bubble, bubble" seemed to tell him of the wonderful music he felt in his heart, and which some day he would make the great world feel through his violin. He pictured how he stood before them in some great concert hall, all the people would go, and listen, and under stand. One day when Monotone peeked out of the top of the kettle he wasn't singing a bit. No, there was a great ugly frown 011 his faee, and lie was saying to himself: "It isn't fair I should stay here in this kettle and sing all the time to a little crippled boy. Many of my playmates have been given lovely homes by the Queen. I think she is as mean as she can be, and I am not going to stay here any longer," and with a hop, skip and jump he was on the floor and out of the door before any one could see him. He went hopping gaily down the street un til at last he saw a little girl carrying a big, white muff. "Just the place for me," he thought, as he jumped inside the muff and eurled down. "I am very sure that in her home that little girl has something that will make music better than an old teakettle, and 1 am going to live with her." Sure enough, when the little girl came to her home, she took her Angers out of the muff, and went to the piano to practice. Monotone came out with her fingers, and ran along them to the keyboard. "Now I shall make new music," he said, as she began to strike the keys. Hnt at the very first stroke out ran a white and good fairy. She struck another note and out came another fairy, and as she struck note after note, the keyboard was alive with the little fairies who went "Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle." Then came the song elves dressed in furry brown coats who went "Turn, turn, turn," as the little girl pressed the keys where they lived, "Oh, how fine !" cried Monotone, " I am com ing, too," and he jumped in among them and began to sing as loudly as he could, "Tee, tee, tee, tee." Hut what was the matter T He could not niakc himself heard among the many fairies. Me tried it again louder, "HUM-M, IHTM-M, lll'M-M," but stdl the fairies danced 011 and sang their melody. All at once he heard a voice, "Ethel, Ethel," it cried, "what is the matter with you? That is all wrong. Don't you hear that wrong note all the way through?" and Ethel's mother came into the room and over to the piano. "Ah," thought Monotone, "they hoar me now," and he began again, "HUM-M, IIUM-M, 1IIJM-M." "Will you stop?" cried one of the furry brown elves, and "Will you stop?" cried all the white and gold fairies. "You are spoiling our music. You do not belong here, anyway," and they all fell upon him and pushed him this way and that, until he fell off the keyboard, and ran and hid in a corner. "Oh, dear," he said, "I do not sec why 1 could not sing with those pretty fairies." But he watched his chance to get out of the room, and wandered into the kitchen. There was a teakettle on the stove, but it wasn't singing. So Monotone slipped into it and began to sing. "Bubble, bubble, bubble." The cat who was asleep behind the stove heard him, and began to accompany him with a sleepy "Purr-r-r, " but the cook who sat by the tabic sewing never heard him at all. lie tried again, "BUBBLE, BUBBLE, BUBBLE" over and over, until at last the cook looked up. "Ah," thought Monotone, "at last she hears me," and he sang still louder. Suddenly the cook dropped her sewing and sprang up. "That horrid noise," she said, "1 cannot stand it! I hate to hear a kettle boil ing," and she moved it on the back of the stove where it was soon all cold and quiet again. Poor Monotone. Two little tears sprang from his little fairy eyes and ran down his cheeks. "Nobody wants me," he sobbed, and he felt very, very sad. But he was a brave little elf. and he decided to try again, so away he sped to see where else he could make music. All day he went here and there, but nobody wanted him, or else they never noticed him at all. The tears came freely when at dusk he turned his little feet toward Ralph's door. "I don't suppose he wants me now, either," he sobbed. "1 guess the Queen knew best when she put me there. Now I've run away, and per haps she has put some other fairy in my place, and I can never sing to anybody any more." lie crept through the door of Ralph's home. Ralph was crying softly in tive dark. Mono tone slipped into the kettle, but it was dark and cold, and something held the song tight back in his throat, and he could not make a sound. Suddenly he heard Ralph's mother coming in the door. "Why, Ralph," she cried, "What is the matter, my boy?" "Oh, mother," sobbed Ralph, "the kettle hasn't sung all day. I listened and listened but not a sound did it make." "The kettle is badly cracked," said his moth er. "I noticed it this morning. That is why it would not boil as usual. I have brought a nice new one with me," and she unwrapped a bright, shiny teakettle, and filling it with water, placed it on the stove. It was so bright and shiny that Monotone could not resist slip ping into it. He went in head over heels and as soon as he could get his breath began. "Bubble, bubble, bubble." "Oh, it is singing again!" eried Ralph, clap ping his hands, and as he went off to sleep he heard the cheerful sound of Monotone's voice, and in his dreams it still sang to him of the wonderful things he would some day make the people understand with his violin. ? The Little Ones. THE KINO'S WISDOM. Long ago a wise old king searched through his books of learning to find some principle upon which to rear his young prince son. And at last he found it. Far down the page of a dusty old Latin book he read the words, "Men.? sana in eorporc sano," which in our language means "a healthy mind in a vigorous body." "That," said the old king, "is what my son shall have!" And so the prince was taught various ath letic pursuits as well as a fair amount of Latin and Greek. He climbed mountains; he sailed the sea; he learned to love the swift rush of the wind past li is face as his horse raced across the frosty autumn fields, while all outdoors be came his kingdom. And he ruled his people with a wisdom and kindness far beyond his ago and his time. And the prince's son also learned to love the out ?f doors, and learned to keep his body and his mind free from the poisoning germs of dis ease and weakness ? and his grandsons, and great-grandsons. Until now, many centuries later, in the year of 1920, far across the ocean in a country that the first great king had never seen, or heard of, in our land of America, thousands of other boys and girls not heirs to royal thrones, but princesses and princes of health and good deeds ? the lied Cross Juniors ? arc striving to fol low in the footsteps of the tirst little prince, whose father gave him nature for his play ground and health for his riches. And the Ju niors are sharing his great kingdom, the out of doors; the Juniors, with their love of hard play, of nature sport and their interest in hard work are not only healthy and happy them selves, but are a force for the uplift of their homes and for the betterment of the commu nity in which they live. Little did that wise old king of long ago dream of the generations that were to reap the benefit of his wisdom. Children's Letters LIKES THE LETTERS. Dear Miss Argyle: 1 am a boy 12 years obi. 1 have four brothers and six sisters. One of my sisters is teaching in Bay City. Another is my Sunday-school teacher, and she told me that when she was of my age she won a prize for a good letter. 1 like to read the children's letters in your paper. Please publish my let ter. 1 want to surprise my father with this let ter. Your Mexican friend, Alejandro Trevino. San Marco, Texas. Dear Alejandro: We are glad that you like our letters and that you wrote one, too. We are all working for a prize for telling Bible stories now. Why don't you and Benjamin try for that ! 11. A. THREE CHAPTERS DAILY. Dear Presbytery : 1 am a boy ten years old. 1 am in the fourth grade. My teacher's name is Miss Loften. She is a very good teacher. 1 love her fine. 1 go to San Marcos Academy school. 1 like your paper and read the children's let ters. I commence this year to read the Bible and I am reading three chapters daily. M v father is an evangelist and has a large field. I will help him some time if it is God's will. This is my first letter, so please publish it you like it. Your friend, Benjamin Trevino. San Marcos. Texas. Dear Benjamin: We are all very glad to hear from you. How long will it take you To read the whole Bible at the rate you are read ing it now? Do you like our Bible enigmas f II. A.