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The King and the Woodcutter’s Son CHIS is the story of a brave lit tle boy who faced hie King without fear and dared to stand up for what his parents had taught him was right and honest. It also tells of a King who turns out, after all, to be a good, kind ruler. It seems a pity—almost — that it Is Just a make-believe story, doesn’t It? But then, you know, there was noth ing "make-believe” about the honesty and manliness of the lad or the no bility of the King, as you shall see for yourself, presently, If you read on. Sfowadays. many a little boy and girl finds himself )n a situation quite similar to that of the small hero of this tale—for honesty and loyalty are vjwo qualities as old aa—no, okler than the hills. Oqeo upon a time In the long, long ago, there lived a mighty King. His name was Bountiful but, alas, he was bountiful only toward himself and his favorite courtiers. His palaces and his Jewels wore the envy of every monarch within leagues and leagues of him; and his fine raiment outshone the flowers In radiance of color. He showered presents upon his fa vorites and scattered money so lavish ly that his extravagance was the won der of all who heard of It. And in order to satisfy his cravings for this .display and prodigality he taxed and ground down the poor people of his kingdom until they had scarcely enough food to keep soul and body together. But King Bountiful was not a hap man. He listened to and feasted upon the flattery of his courtiers who were always telling him what a great and good king he was and how all the people of Ills domain loved him ; honestly and rejoiced to do hla bid ding. But, every now and then, he would detect first this courtier, then another, In a deception or—all too frequently for his peace of mind—actually plot ting to overthrow him and seize the throne. Finally, King Bountiful be came so suspicious that he knew not whom to trust or whom to believe was really a loyal subject. On the outskirts of the Immense forest which the King set apart as his game preserve lived a poor wood cutter, his old, shrunken wife and their young son Felix. Now the woodcutter was as poor as anyone In the whole of the vast kingdom. Hlf home was a crude hut. built of rough hewn logs, and his only way of earn ing a living was to carry bundles ol wood into the nearby town and seli them for a mere pittance. You would Imagine, wouldn’t you, that he would have had no trouble in gathering sticks of wood? And he would not have, either, had he been able to cross the field and enter the vast wood reserved for the King. But the penalty for gathering wood In that forest or, for even trespassing there, was immediate death. So the woodcutter and the other poor people kept away from the King’s forest and gathered what few sticks and branches they could find elsewhere. It did seem to them, Just as It does to you, unfair and tyrannical for the King to forbid them to enter his forest—especially since he himself came there not more than a dozen times a year and the poor peasants would have been, oh, so careful not to cut down any trees or break cfl branches. But King Bountiful, of course, could not see the matter In such a light One cold, dreary winter afternoon, after a heavy rain, little Felix was In the broad field, along the edge of the wood, gathering what few sticks he could And. Every now and then he would look longingly toward the King** forest Where wood lay so plen tifully all over the ground. Many times had he thought how The Best Medicine ^ IF you suppose when I am sick My mother gives me bitter drugs. You're wrong: she has a better trick Of giving me eleven hugs. And kisses and my sweater hood , And rubber boots if it is damp, And out I scamper through the wood ' 1 o have a jolly fresh air tramp. hor air and light make flowers grow And leed the grass and shrubs and trees. So it will make me well you know For I am brother to all these. I fine It would be to gather great, heaj ing bundles of wood there and the sell them In the town, where woo was scarce and people were eager t buy. But no, that could not be. Th woods was the King's. Presently Felix looked up fror i fwusmi ■■ ■" ,l 1 - King will never know. Hasten!” n Hut Felix was obdurate. “I would d that I could, sir,” he persisted, "but 0 the King has forbidden It—and e whether anyone saw me or not, I should still be breaking the law. I 1 fear, alas, that you must go without ... B m Ai. Olive* CVuoore “Lad,” ho said, “I am drenched to the skin.” gathering the sticks and saw a man coming toward him across the field. The stranger waved at him In friend ly fashion and. walking slowly along and evidently with great difficulty, he came up to him. "Lad,” he said In a weak voice and through chattering teeth, "I am drenched to the skin. Is yonder hut your home? I fain would enter and dry myself." “Prithee come within,” replied Fe lix, gatherlhg up the few scant sticks he had collected. "My father and my mother are both out In another direc tion looking for wood—but when they return they will bid you welcome to a part of the crust of bread we have for dinner. 'Twas a heavy fall of rain indeed, and your garments are wet through.” As they entered the hut the stranger breathed a sigh of relief and began to divest himself of his drenched attire. "Come, lad,” he said, "build me a fire by the chimney so I may the bet ter warm myself and dry my clothes.” So Felix selected the best of the sticks from his scant bundle and sought to set fire to them. Over and over he tried; but they were all too damp from the morning's rain. Sc he told the stranger that he could not make them burn. "Zounds!” exclaimed the guest. "Is that the only wood you have! Go across the field and Into the forest; there, among the thick undergrowth, you will find many sticks that are but slightly wet. Be quick, lad, be quick! I am fairly numb with the cold!" Felix regarded him a moment sor rowfully. "I fain would do as you say,” he made answer, "but the wood Is the King’s and all are forbidden to enter there and gather or cut wood.” "The King’s! Humph! What If it | Is!" exclaimed the stranger irritably, i "Shall I be cold because King Bounti : ful commands! Listen, lad, do as I , tell you. None will see you—and the fire—as we ourselves do so often.” The stranger, apparently in a great rage, seized Felix by the shoulder. "Come, lad, no more of this nonsense. I am—-I—I am a friend of the King’s —and I know he will not punish you for building me a fire. Hurryl Do 1 you not see how I shiver?” But still Felix refused. "If that be so," he said, “then do you go and I fetch the wood yourself. Only, you My Horsey IVE got the nicest horsey at ever you did see. He carries me so easy up an’ down; I jes’ get on a-straddle of my big papa’s knee An’ make believe I’m ridin’ round the town. cannot bring it into this hut, for then I and my parents would be sharing In the heat from it. No, sir, the King's command .must be obeyed!” At that, the stranger smiled to htm self quietly and gazed steadily at the wall for a moment.' Then he Walked over to Felix and placed his . hand gently upon his shoulder. "Hearken, lad," he said In kindly tone, "you need have no fear—X am the King! And surely I can do what I will with my ownl Go! I command you—gol” But still Felix shook his head. “No," he replied slowly, "no. The King you may be—but if so, I know you not. You certainly come not dressed as King Bountiful. I fear j you are but decelTing me In order j that I may— Just then the door of the hut was flung open and In came the wood cutter and his wife. Their arms were full of faggots which they had been . fortunate enough to find lying within j a cave at a great distance from the : hut. So, since they were dry, a fire was soon blazing away on the hearth arql , the stranger’s teeth ceased to chatter. A while later, his clothes thoroughly dry, he pressed a coin upon the poor ; woodcutter and bade them adieu. Two days later, Felix was scouring j the field for sticks when a gay caval- I cade swung into view through the arched aisles of the King’s woods. At its head rode a richly attired man seated upon a magnificent charger. It was King Bountiful. Straightway, Felix fell upon his knees, as became a poof peasant. But eagerly his searching eye sought the King, for It was considered a rare bit of good for tune to gaze upop him. On and on came the cavalcade; and presently, to Felix’ amazement, they emerged from the wood and came across the field. Even though kneel ing, he felt cold all over. His eyes he kept steadfastly downcast. Nearer and nearer came the riders unttb it seemed, they must surely ride right over him. Then, suddenly, the leader stopped. "Ho, lad,” said he In a voice that was both kindly and familiar, "I am not drenched this time, but I desire that you onter yonder wood and re turn with an armful of faggots. I bid you build me a fire within your hut.” i Felix looked up, all a-tremble, and behold—It was the stranger! Also, It was—the King! "Sire! Sire!" gasped the poor boy. "I—I—sire!" The King laughed. He reached down from his horse, caught Felix under the arm and lifted him up be side him. "Better than that, lad,” he laughed, "we will both go and gather wood from King Bountiful's forest for our Are—that all may know that here after the King no longer forbids his people gathering faggots and sticks there; provided they break not the branches nor injure the trees.” And then turning to his courtiers, “This is the lad of whom I told you. I would that I could be as certain of the loy alty of every one as I am of his. 'Tls well I wander about my kingdom in disguise now and then, for I learn things you are afraid to tell me! Hereafter, the King's wood is free and open to all. I so decree it!” And then, smiling at the embar rassed Felix, he added: “Lad, X like you much. On the morrow I shall send my servants and you and your worthy father and mother shall come to the palace and be my woodcutters. Such loyalty merits a reward and—” turning again to his courtiers with a laugh, “wood cutter to the King!—what think you of the new honor?" NO MORE LICKIN’St TATHER was sitting by the living room table reading the evening paper and, now and then, read ing an item or so aloud so that Moth er, who sat sewing across from him, might also hear the news of the day. “Well, well, Ma!” he said presently. “I see that the fishermen along the Maine coast have gone out of the whaling business entirely." "Gee!" put in little Johnny, who was sitting at one end of the table making a pretense of studying his lessons. "Gee, Pop, but I wish you was a fish erman!” A CHILD MARKET. CHE children of the poor are year ly sold at auction to the highest bidder, at Ravensburg, in the Ty rol, in the child market held there, the boys and girls bringing only a few shillings in most cases. These chil dren are taken away by those who buy them, to do hard work, the boys being used for agricultural purposes and the girls for domestic work. If, as sometimes happens, a buyer can not decide between two boys, he makes the two fight and gives his money for the winner. | Ourpuzzle Corner g PC JO K J»USSY PUZZLE. I * • ' • ’ " ‘ ' ‘ ’ 1 I » Ding, dong bell, Pussy’s in the well. Who put her In? Little Tommy Qreen. Who pulled her out? Little Tommy Trout. What a naughty hoy was that. Thus to drown poor Pussy Cat. Eee if you can find the pussy cat by cutting out the black spots and fitting fVinm ♦nffothfir. NUMERICAL ENIGMA. I am composed of fourteen letters. My 6. 7, 12. 14 Is what you smell with. My 2, 1 Is a conjunction. My 9, IS, 8 is the core of an ear ol com. My 4. C Is to exist. My 10, 11. 8 Is to go quickly. My whole Is the name of a famous book of adventures. RIDDIiE. 1 have the largest vocabulary ever known but I can’t speak a word. Per sons turn to me for knowledge of words and though 1 never answer them they always get what they want from me. In me are “eyes,” “^ose," /‘ears,’’ ’’tongue’’ and ’'Angers" and yet I can’t see, smell, hear, taste or {eel. ANSWERS. Numerical Enigma: Nose, or, cob, is, run; Robinson Crusoe. Riddle: Dictionary. The Little Girl Who Lo§t Her Temper T WON'T put it on. I won’t. I won’t!” screamed Little Girl, stamping her foot angrily. “I Just hate that horrid old dress.” All the dolls in the nursery looked very much shocked at this display of temper and the Teddy bear said right “but I didn’t know Temper was a person; I thought it was something inside of you.” “You’ll be the death of me yet,” J continued Temper. “The others give( I me a little peace—but not you.” ' “Why Temper,” said Little Olrl “Why how can you say that? I never saw you before In all my life.” out lou,d: "She ought to be spanked.” "Who said that?” demanded Little Girl, turning sharply around and, see ing the look of guilt on Teddy Bear’s face, pounced upon him and beat him unmercifully. "For shame!” cried her nurse. "I’ll just tell your ma and see what she has to say about such conduct.” "I don’t care; tell her,” answered Little Girl tossing her head saucily. “I know what I’ll do—I’ll Just run away; that’s what I’ll do,” said Little Girl after nurse had left the room. . "Wpuld any. of you children like to come with me?” This last remark was addressed to her little toy friends, bbt as not one volunteered she Jerred, “Cowards, cowards,” and ran out of the room. She Just stopped long enough to put on her vgry best hat, then pat tered down the street as fast as her little legs would carry her. After she had walked quite a dis tance she felt so tired that she sat down on a stone for a rest. While she was sitting there an old man, his face deeply lined with wrin Ijleo, took a seat beside her. "Who are you?” asked Little Girl pertly. “Why I should think you ought to know me pretty well,” an swered the old man in a quavering voice. "You give me more trouble than any other little girl in this town. Qetting me out of my bed in all kinds of weather. 'Ybu ought to be ashamed of yourself,” he finished severely. "Why how can you say that?” said Little Girl indignantly, “I never saw you before in all my life. I don’t even know your name.” "My name’s Temper,” said the old man. "And only* this afternoon I was sitting by the fire havihg a little nap when a message came for me that I was wanted at your house lmmedi ' ately. If was something about a [dress. Po you remember now?” i "Yes I do,” said Little Girl slowly, softly (she really wasn't such a bad little girl after all) "I'm so sorry.'.' "Will try not to send for mo so of ten?" asked Temper eagerly. "Es pecially rainy days, because the damp gets In my joints and gives me rheu matism.” Little Girl readily gave the prom ise. and they parted good friends. When she arrived home nurse was waiting at the door for her and at once proceeded to give her a sound scolding for running away. Instead of flying Into a rage as she usually did. Little Girl said meekly: "I’m sorry, nurse,” and went up stairs, leaving that person looking ' Per came to her like a Hash, anti she threw herself on the bed, sobbing bit 1 terly: "There, I promised I’d be especially careful on rainy days and—and I’ve j brought him out this morning and i bis rheumatism will be worse." Later on in the day Little Girl slip ped out of the house and went In , search of Temper. She asked everybody she met. but nobody could tell her where he lived. At last she came to an old hut where she stopped and knocked tim idly on the door: "Come In,” said a weak voice which Little airl recog nised as Temper's. She found him lying on the bed gasping for breath. “Ah, Little Girl, you very nearly did for me that time,” he said feebly. I “Dear, dear Temper,” said Little Girl, throwing herself beside the bed. ! 'please get better and I’ll try to re member." ''Lid you forget so soon?” asked ; Temper sadly, then as she hung her : head in shame he said. "Bring me | that rose, my dear.” As she handed It to him he said: “I picked this off the Tree of Mom ! ory, and the person who wears it never ; forgets. Taka It dear," he said, hand | ing it to Little Girl. “It will help you to remember but you must not keep J it very long, as I have a number of | other children watting for it.” So Little Girl went home with the ' cose, and It helped her so much that j In a few days she returned It to Tern ! per. "Ha! Ha!” chuckled he genially as she handed it to him. '“You didn’t give me much trouble last week. Little Girl. Why I am positively getting fat with so little exercise.” “Yes, you are fatter,” said Little , Girl, eyeing him critically, "and you're ever so much younger look ing." “I feel younger,” answered Temper. "I feel so glad I could dance with Joy. There Is one little boy, however, causing me a little trouble. When ever it’s time to go to bed he at once flies Into a rage, but once I get hold of him and explain matters Just as I did to you, my dear, I think he will be better.” “Oh I’m sure he will," answered Little Girl. "Well, I must go home 1 now. Goodbye, Temper, goodbye." I "Goodbye Little Girl,” said Temper, ; shaking her hand heartily, and as a i last word of parting he said "Remem I The Young' Photog'rapHer HE mounts a piece of stovepipe on a soap box turned on <od» And then to take a picture he will seriously pretend; His coat’s the cloth for focussing which covers up his head. And where he lacks a shutter there’s an old tin plate instead. » He sets his little sister in a broken wicker chair. And chooses her position with the most excessive care; • “Look pleasant, please,” he orders, then he fools with his “machine’’ And tells her that the picture will be the best yet seen. He photographs each blessed thing that he can get to sit, And plays at taking pictures till you think he’ll never quit; Each dog and cat within a mile has many times been done, And though he shows no pictures, still it doesn't spoil his fun. But since he seems determined to become a photo-man. We will help his young ambition in whatever way we can. And so on his next birthday we will purchase for his sake A proper kind of camera that will real pictures take. very much astonished. The first thing she did was to rush to the nursery and ask Teddy Bear’s pardon for the way ehe treated him. Of course Teddy Bear was only too glad to forgive his little mistress. Then all the toys shouted: "We’re so glad you came back Little Girl, because we missed you terribly,” which Little Girl thought was very sweet of them after the horrid way she had acted. The next morning the rain was com ing down in torrents and it made Lit tle Girl cross because her mother had promised to . take her visiting that day. and of course now that it was raining they wouldn’t be able to go. So when nurse arrived to comb her charge's hair she found a very pout ing little girl Indeed. "Come-! Gome missy. It’s time you were dressed,” she said sharply. And —well, I think nurse was feeling a lit tle cross herself that morning, be cause Bhc pulled hold of Little Girl's arm in a way which that young per son resented very much, for she shouted angrily: “Go away. Go away. You won’t comb my hair. I—1—hate you.” A few minutes later, when her rage had passed away. the ihemory of Tom « ber the rainy days." And Little Girl remembered so well that from that day everybody caned her "The Little Girl Without a Tem per." WONDERFUL ROSE GARDENS. Ty.N the outskirts of the olty . of Lyons, In sunny France, are the most wonderful rose gardens In the world. There a great flat stretch of land Is set out In countless rows of the queen of flowers, all a-bloom. variegated In color and perfume. These rows, In a single garden, are often a hundred feet In length, with not more than eighteen Inches of space between rows and each plant In j a row is not more than a foot from ■ ! Its neighbor. There, In this floral paradise, the {gardeners strive to propagate new kinds of roses by the process of graft ■ ing one species upon another. Only i the other year one gardener produced j a new rose of a rare coral tint and ! luxurious perfume. One cannot g | upon this wondrous scene withe breathing a fervent thanksgiving ! there aye In the world such beaut | things Jas roses. f