{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_41846/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_41846","id":"gutenberg_41846","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41846","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Novels","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Catholic children -- Juvenile fiction","Families -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"[Illustration: _Bolax, Imp or Angel Which?_]\n\n[Illustration: JE SUIS MOI, LE G\u00c9N\u00c8RALE BOOME.\n\nI AM THE GREAT GENERAL BOOME.\n\n[From Fun in Dormitory. page 166.]]\n\n\n\n\n  BOLAX\n\n  IMP OR ANGEL--WHICH?\n\n  BY MRS. JOSEPHINE CULPEPER\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  JOHN MURPHY COMPANY.\n\n  Baltimore:                   New York:\n  200 W. Lombard Street.       70 Fifth Avenue.\n\n  1907.\n\n  _Copyright 1907, by_\n  Mrs. Josephine Culpeper\n\n  PRINTED BY JOHN MURPHY COMPANY\n\n\n\n\n_\"Bolax: Imp or Angel--Which?\" Being favorably criticised by priests of\nliterary ability, is hereby recommended most heartily by me to all\nCatholics._\n\n_As a study in child-life and as a rational object lesson in the\nreligious and moral training of children, Mrs. Culpeper's book should\nbecome popular and the jolly little Bolax be made welcome in many\nhouseholds._\n\n  _Faithfully yours in Xt,_\n\n[Illustration: Signature]\n\n\n\n\n     _Dedicated to my best beloved pupils, especially the children of\n     the Late Dr. William V. Keating, and those of Joseph R. Carpenter,\n     by their old governess._\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                          PAGE.\n\n  CHAPTER I.\n\n  AMY'S COMPANY,                                              1\n\n  CHAPTER II.\n\n  THE WONDERFUL RIDE,                                         9\n\n  CHAPTER III.\n\n  THE PARTY,                                                 19\n\n  CHAPTER IV.\n\n  PLEASANT CONTROVERSY,                                      29\n\n  CHAPTER V.\n\n  THE PICNIC,                                                38\n\n  CHAPTER VI.\n\n  A TALK ABOUT OUR BOYS,                                     52\n\n  CHAPTER VII.\n\n  THE FIGHT,                                                 61\n\n  CHAPTER VIII.\n\n  THE COAL MAN,                                              78\n\n  CHAPTER IX.\n\n  AMY'S TRIP TO THE SEASHORE,                                89\n\n  CHAPTER X.\n\n  CHRISTMAS AND \"LITTLE CHRISTMAS,\" OR KING'S\n  DAY,                                                      100\n\n  CHAPTER XI.\n\n  PRACTISING,                                               116\n\n  CHAPTER XII.\n\n  FIRST COMMUNION,                                          130\n\n  CHAPTER XIII.\n\n  UNFORSEEN EVENTS,                                         146\n\n  CHAPTER XIV.\n\n  BOLAX GOES TO COLLEGE,                                    157\n\n  CHAPTER XV.\n\n  LETTER FROM A FRIEND,                                     174\n\n  CHAPTER XVI.\n\n  BOLAX LEAVES COLLEGE FOR VACATION,                        196\n\n\n\n\nONLY A BOY.\n\n\n    Only a boy with his noise and fun,\n    The veriest mystery under the sun;\n    As brimful of mischief and wit and glee\n    As ever a human frame can be,\n    And as hard to manage as--ah! ah, me!\n        'Tis hard to tell,\n        Yet we love him well.\n\n    Only a boy, with his fearful tread,\n    Who cannot be driven, but must be led;\n    Who troubles the neighbors' dogs and cats,\n    And tears more clothes, and spoils more hats,\n    Loses more tops and kites and bats\n        Than would stock a store,\n        For a year or more.\n\n    Only a boy, with his wild, strange ways,\n    With his idle hours on busy days;\n    With his queer remarks and his odd replies,\n    Sometimes foolish and sometimes wise,\n    Often brilliant for one of his size,\n        As a meteor hurl'd,\n        From the pleasant world.\n\n    Only a boy, who will be a man\n    If Nature goes on with her first great plan--\n    If water, or fire, or some fatal snare\n    Conspire not to rob us of this our heir,\n    Our blessing, our trouble, our rest, our care,\n        Our torment, our joy,\n        \"Our only boy.\"\n\n                                      --_Anonymous_.\n\n\n\n\nBOLAX IMP OR ANGEL--WHICH?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nAMY'S COMPANY\n\n\n\"Come children,\" said Mrs. Allen, \"Mamma wants to take you for a nice\nwalk.\"\n\n\"Oh, please, dear Mamma, wait awhile! Bolax and I have company!\" This\nfrom little Amy, Bo's sister.\n\nMrs. Allen looked around the room, and saw several chairs placed before\nthe fire; but seeing no visitors, was about to sit in the large arm\nchair.\n\n\"Oh, dear Mamma,\" said Amy, \"please do not take that chair! That's for\npoor old St. Joseph; he will be here presently.\"\n\nTurning toward the chair nearest the fire, the child bowed down to the\nfloor, saying: \"Little Jesus I love you! When will St. Joseph be here?\"\n\nThen bowing before the next chair: \"Blessed Mother, are you comfortable?\nHere is a footstool.\"\n\nMrs. Allen went into the hall, and was about to close the door, when\nBolax called out: \"Oh, Ma dear, please don't shut the door. Here comes\nSt. Joseph and five beautiful angels.\"\n\nMrs. Allen was rather startled at the positive manner in which this was\nsaid, and unconsciously stepped aside, as if really to make way for the\ncelestial visitors. Then leaving the children to amuse themselves, she\nlistened to them from an adjoining room. This is what she heard:\n\nAmy--Dear St. Joseph please sit down; blessed angels, I am sorry that I\nhaven't enough chairs, but you can rest on your beautiful wings.\n\nBolax--Little Jesus, I'm so glad you've come. Mamma says you are very\npowerful, even if you are so little. I want to ask you lots of things.\nDo you see these round pieces of tin? Well, won't you please change them\nall into dollars, so we can have money for the poor, and sister Amy\nwon't be crying in the street when she has no money to give all the\nblind and the lame people we meet. And dear Jesus, let me whisper--I\nwant a gun.\n\nAmy--Dear Blessed Mother please make poor Miss Ogden well. I heard her\ntell my Mamma she was afraid to die; and she is very sick. She has such\na sad face, and she looks mis'able.\n\nBolax--Sister, won't you ask lots of things for me? I'm afraid to ask\n'cause I was naughty this morning. I dyed pussy's hair with Papa's red\nink.\n\nAmy--No, I won't ask any more favors; Mamma says we must be thankful for\nall we get, so let us sing a hymn of thanks.\n\nHere Papa came upstairs calling for his babies. Mrs. Allen not wishing\nto disturb the children, beckoned him into her room, hoping he would\nlisten to the innocent prattle of his little ones. All unconscious of\nbeing observed, the children continued to entertain their heavenly\nguests.\n\nMr. Allen not being a Catholic, was more shocked than edified at what he\nthought the hallucination of the children, and spoke rather sternly to\nhis wife. \"All this nonsense comes from your constant talk on subjects\nbeyond the comprehension of children. Amy is an emotional child; she\nwill become a dreamer, a spiritualist; it will affect her nervous system\nand you will have yourself to blame.\n\n\"As for Bolax, I have no fear for him. He'll never be too pious. I'm\nwilling to----\" Here they were startled by a most unearthly yell, and\nMaster Bo rushed into the room, saying that Amy would not let him play\nwith her.\n\n\"Why won't she?\" asked Papa.\n\n\"Oh, because I upset St. Joseph; I wanted to take the chairs for a train\nof cars.\"\n\nPapa broke into a fit of laughter, and said: \"Bo, Bo, you're the\nfunniest youngster I ever heard of.\"\n\nPoor Little Amy came into the room, looking as if ready to cry, telling\nher mother she would never again have that boy when her company came.\n\"Just think, dear Ma, Bo said he liked monkeys better than angels.\"\n\nThe serious face of the little girl caused her mother to wonder if the\nchild really saw the holy spirits.\n\nMrs. Allen consoled her little daughter, telling her Bo would be more\nthoughtful and better behaved when he should be a few years older.\n\n\"Come now,\" said she, \"we will go to see poor little Tommie Hoden. I am\nsure from the appearance of the boy, the family must be in very great\ndistress.\"\n\nIt was a beautiful day. The hyacinths were in bloom, and there were\ndaffodils, tulips, and forget-me-nots, almost ready to open; the cherry\ntrees were white with blossoms, and the apple trees covered with buds.\nThe glad beautiful spring had fully come with its lovely treasures and\neverything seemed delighting in the sweet air and sunshine.\n\nMiss Beldon, a neighbor, was digging her flower-beds, and asked where\nthey were going.\n\n\"I want to visit that poor little fellow, Tommy Hoden, who comes here so\noften,\" said Mrs. Allen.\n\n\"You're not going to Hoden's,\" cried Miss Beldon; \"why the father is an\nawful man!\"\n\n\"So much the more need of helping him, and that poor neglected boy of\nhis,\" answered Mrs. Allen. \"Can you tell me exactly where they live?\"\n\n\"Yes, in a horrid old hut, near Duff Mills. You can't miss it, for it is\nthe meanest of all those tumble-down shanties. I do wish you wouldn't\ngo, it won't do any good.\"\n\n\"Our Lord will take care of that,\" said Mrs. Allen. \"I am only going to\ndo the part of the work He assigns me, and take food to the hungry.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Miss Beldon, \"I wouldn't go for fifty dollars. The man is\nnever sober, and he won't like to be interfered with. I shouldn't wonder\nif he would shoot at you.\"\n\nMrs. Allen laughed, and said anything so tragic was not likely to\nhappen, and then went to get a basket of food to take to Tommy Hoden.\n\nThey set forth on their walk, Bo holding fast to his mother's hand while\nAmy loitered on the way, gathering wild flowers. \"Do you really, truly\nthink Tom's father would shoot at us?\" asked Bo.\n\n\"No, indeed, dear. I hope you are not afraid.\"\n\n\"Well--no--dear Ma, not very afraid;\" and the little fellow drew a deep\nsigh; \"only I--I--hope he won't shoot you, dear Ma.\"\n\n\"Well I am afraid!\" said Amy, in a somewhat shamefaced manner.\n\n\"Please, Ma dear, let me go back and I will kneel before our Blessed\nLady's picture and pray for the poor man all the time you are away.\"\n\n\"That is very sweet of you, dear. Now Bo, perhaps you had better return\nwith Amy. I can go alone.\"\n\n\"No; no; I won't go back. I want to take care of my own dear Mamma. I'm\nnot a bit afraid now.\"\n\n\"Well, dear,\" said Mrs. Allen, \"I will tell you what I want to do for\nTom and his father. I will try to get Tom to go to school every day and\nto catechism class on Sundays. I think that would make a better boy of\nhim. Then I hope to persuade his father to sign the temperance pledge\nand go to work.\"\n\nBolax understood what his mother meant by this, for Mrs. Allen made a\nconstant companion of the child; and although only five, she taught him\nto recite a piece on Temperance.\n\nThe walk to the mills was very pleasant, with the exception of about\nhalf a mile of the distance, just as the road turned off from the\nvillage; here were a number of wretched old buildings, occupied by very\npoor and, for the most part, very wicked people.\n\nSomewhat removed from the others stood a hovel more dilapidated, if\npossible, than the rest. Towards this Mrs. Allen, still holding Bolax by\nthe hand, bent her steps, and gently rapped at the door.\n\nNo one answered, but something that sounded like the growl of a beast\nproceeded from within. After repeating the rap twice or three times,\nshe pushed the door wider open and walked in. The room upon which it\nopened was small and low, and lighted by a single window, over which\nhung a thick network of spider webs; the dingy walls were festooned in\nlike manner; the clay floor was so filthy, that, for a moment, Mrs.\nAllen shrunk from stepping upon it.\n\nIn a corner of the wretched room sat Tom's father, smoking an old pipe.\nHe was a rough, bad-looking man with shaggy hair hanging over his face\nand bleared eyes that glared at his visitors with no gentle expression.\n\n\"What do you want?\" he growled.\n\n\"Your little boy sometimes comes to our place,\" answered Mrs. Allen, \"so\nI thought I would come to see him, and bring him some cakes; children\nare so fond of sweets.\"\n\n\"Very kind of you, I'm sure, ma'am, though I don't know why you should\ntake the trouble,\" and the glare of his eyes softened a little; \"you're\nthe first woman that's crossed that ere threshold since Molly was\ncarried out. I ha'n't got no chair.\"\n\n\"Oh, never mind. I did not come to make a long call,\" said Mrs. Allen.\n\nThe lady looked around the wretched room in vain, for a shelf or table\non which to deposit the contents of her basket. At last she saw a\ncloset, and while placing the articles of food in it, talked to old\nHoden as if he had been the most respectable man in the county.\n\n\"Is Tom at home, Mr. Hoden?\"\n\n\"What d'ye want of him? I never know where he is.\"\n\n\"I heard you ought to be a Catholic,\" continued Mrs. Allen, \"and I\nthought you would not object to Tom's coming to my catechism class on\nSunday.\"\n\n\"He ain't got no clothes fit to go; besides I reckon it wouldn't do no\ngood to send him, for he ain't never seen the inside of a church.\"\n\n\"Well, Mr. Hoden, couldn't you come yourself?\"\n\n\"It is me, ma'am? I haven't been near a church or priest for twenty-five\nyears. Poor Molly tried to make me go, but she gave it up as a bad job.\nYou may try your hand on Tom for all I care.\"\n\n\"I am much obliged to you for giving me leave to try,\" said Mrs. Allen,\nsmiling; \"I should not have asked Tom to come without your permission,\nMr. Hoden. Good-bye, sir.\"\n\nThe poor wretch seemed dazed, and did not reply to the lady's polite\nleave-taking.\n\nAfter she was gone, he said to himself \"I wonder what that one is up to.\nI never heard such smooth talk in my life. Well it do make me feel good\nto be spoke to like I were a gentleman. I'd give a good bit to know who\nsent her here, and why she come.\"\n\nAh, poor soul, it was the charity of Jesus Christ that prompted the lady\nto go to you; and many a fervent prayer she and her children will say\nfor your conversion.\n\n\"Mamma,\" said Bolax, on the way home, \"that man is not so dreadful bad.\"\n\n\"Why do you think that, dear?\"\n\n\"Because I saw a picture of the Sacred Heart pasted on the wall inside\nthe closet; it is all over grease and flyspecks, but you know you told\nme Jesus gave a blessing to any house that had a picture of His Sacred\nHeart in it.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTHE WONDERFUL RIDE.\n\n\n\"Hurrah! Hurrah!\" shouted Bolax, \"Amy where are you? 'Want to tell you\nsomething fine.\" Amy was watering her flower-bed, and did not pay much\nattention to the little brother who was always having something \"fine\"\nto tell.\n\n\"What is it now, Bo dear?\" \"Oh something real splendid this time.\"\n\n\"Please tell me then,\" said Amy getting a little impatient.\n\n\"You'll be so glad, Amy. Mamma and auntie say they are going to have a\nparty on the 21st because it is your birthday and St. Aloysius'\nbirthday.\"\n\n\"Did they? really truly!\" exclaimed Amy; and the staid little lady\ndanced up and down the porch wild with delight at the prospect of a\n\"really truly\" party.\n\nJust then Aunt Lucy came up the steps laden with roses, for it was June,\nthe month of the beautiful queen of flowers.\n\nMrs. Allen took particular pains to cultivate with her own hands, all\nvarieties of red roses, from deep crimson to the brilliant Jacqueminot,\nso that she could always have a bouquet to send to the Church every\nSunday and Friday, during the month of the Sacred Heart, besides\nkeeping her own little altar well supplied.\n\n\"Oh, Auntie, dear!\" said Amy, \"I'm so happy! Bo says I'm to have a\nparty.\" \"Well, yes, darling; you know you will be seven on the 21st, so\nMamma and I want to make you happy because you have always tried to be a\ngood obedient little girl.\"\n\n\"Thank you, thank you, auntie,\" and Amy gave Aunt Lucy a big hug and\nkiss.\n\n\"May I carry the roses to the Oratory auntie, dear?\"\n\n\"Yes, Child, but I must go too, for I forgot to light the lamp before\nthe picture of the Sacred Heart, and it should never be extinguished\nduring this month.\"\n\nWhile arranging the altar Amy began with her usual string of questions,\nwhich were always listened to, and answered, for Mrs. Allen and her\nsister never allowed themselves to be \"too busy to talk to children.\"\n\n\"Auntie, why do we burn lamps before statues and holy pictures? Mollie\nLane asked me that question when she was in here yesterday, and I did\nnot know how to explain, then she laughed and said it was so funny to\nhave artificial light in the day time.\"\n\n\"My dear, we burn lamps and candles on the altar for several reasons,\nwhich it would take too long to tell you just now; when you are older, I\nwill give you a little book called \"Sacramentals,\" which explains all\nabout the lights on our altars, the use of holy water, blessed palm, the\ncrucifix, etc. For the present it suffices to tell any one who questions\nyou that the lamp in our Oratory is kept burning as a mark of respect\ntowards the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and besides it is a pretty ornament.\"\n\nWhat a bower of loveliness, peace and rest was the little hall-room\nwhich Mrs. Allen set apart as a \"Holy of Holies\" for her household. A\nsubdued light glimmered through the latticed windows, which also\nadmitted the soft summer air that wafted the fragrance of flowers over\nthe family, as they knelt at their devotion.\n\nThere was time to pray in that house, and although its head was not a\nCatholic, he approved of his family living up to all they professed; in\nfact he was proud of the little tabernacle in his house, and frequently,\nwhen he had visitors, invited them upstairs to see the Oratory.\n\nWhile Aunt Lucy and Amy were occupied, Bolax went out to the stable\nhoping Pat, the hired man, would talk to him; but Pat had gone to the\nvillage on an errand, then Bo came back to the house and called for his\nMamma. As mother did not respond immediately he screamed as loud as he\ncould: \"Ma, dear! Ma, dear!\"\n\nMrs. Allen opened her door and asked why he spoke in such a disagreeable\ntone of voice.\n\n\"Well, I have no one to play with,\" he whined. \"I want sister, can't she\ncome down?\"\n\n\"Now dearie be a good little man, don't whine, go and amuse yourself;\nAmy is at her lessons with Aunt Lucy, and I am writing to Papa. I should\nlike to be able to tell him you were a good boy.\"\n\n\"Where is Papa now?\" asked Bo. \"Away off in Kansas, dear.\"\n\n\"There, do not disturb me and I will be with you presently.\"\n\nThus left to himself Bo went to his never-failing source of\namusement--swinging on the gate. While enjoying himself, he heard the\nrumble of wagon-wheels, and jumped down to see what was coming. It\nhappened to be the milk boy, Pete Hopkins--\"Hello, Pete!\" said Bo.\n\"Hello yourself,\" said Pete. \"Give me a ride,\" begged Bo. \"I don't\nmind,\" said the good-natured fellow and jumping out of his cart, lifted\nthe child to the seat beside him.\n\nBolax had often been allowed to ride to the end of the road with Pete,\nbecause Mrs. Allen knew him to be a respectable boy.\n\nWhen he came to the usual getting-off place, Pete forgot somehow to put\nthe child down, and, of course, Bo couldn't think, he was too much\ninterested in a story Pete was telling about his pet goose, that always\nfollowed one of the cows, and came to him to have her head scratched.\n\nPete did not realize how far he was taking the boy, until the horse\nstopped before his own door. \"Great Scot!\" exclaimed he, \"I'll ketch it,\nyoungster. I didn't mean to carry you all this way.\"\n\n\"But as you are here, I'll show you the calves and my pet goose.\" Saying\nthis, Pete lifted Bo out of the cart. The child clapped his hands and\nshouted with delight as he caught sight of a flock of sheep feeding in\nthe meadow next to the barn, then Pete called Nancy, the pet goose, and\nBo laughed at her queer way of waddling from side to side after her\nmaster, and gabbling as if trying to talk to him.\n\n\"I want to see your colt now,\" said Bo, Pete asked him to wait a minute\nwhile he went into the stable to make sure the colt was tied securely,\nfor the animal was quite unbroken, and children were not to be trusted\nnear him.\n\nBo waited a \"hundred hours,\" which was always his manner of computing\ntime, when in anticipation of pleasure; then spying a nice white pig in\na field nearby, rubbing her back against the fence, he made a dash\ntowards her, put one leg through the rails just across piggie's back. Up\njumped the pig with the boy astride, whether by accident or design, no\none could tell.\n\nBo was delighted at the unexpected pleasure of a real piggie-back ride,\nand laughed and shouted in his glee.\n\nPete having fastened the door of the colt's stall, and made sure he\ncould be safely approached, went out of the stable to call Bolax, but by\nthis time master harum scarum was off on his prancing steed. For a\nmoment, Pete stood amazed not knowing what to make of the strange sight,\nthen finding his voice, called out lustily \"Hi! Hi! little fellow, stop!\nyou'll be killed!\" At the same time he could scarcely keep his feet for\nlaughing.\n\nTwo farmhands tried to \"head off\" the animal, but Bo had caught hold of\nher ears to keep himself balanced, and the tighter he held on the wilder\nran poor piggie.\n\nPete's mother came rushing out, and seeing the dangerous position of the\nchild began scolding, her harsh voice striking terror into the heart of\nunlucky Pete.\n\n\"You big stupid. How come you to let that baby do such a fool trick?\"\n\n\"Don't stand there gaping. Head off the wild critter or she'll get out\non the road.\"\n\nBut the warning came too late, for at that moment down the lane flew the\nfrightened animal, Bolax boldly clinging to its back.\n\nMrs. Hopkins, her hair all flying, rushed after him making the echoes\nring with her screams. Pete bewildered, did not know which way to run;\nthe two hired men and several neighbors joined in the chase.\n\nFinally piggie plunged into a little creek by the roadside and Bo was\ndismounted. He got a thorough ducking and a few bruises, but received no\nserious injury.\n\nMrs. Hopkins carried the child into the house, and having changed his\nclothes made Pete hitch up the buggy, for, as she said: \"I'll take the\nlittle imp to his mother, and tell her never to let him show his nose on\nmy place again.\n\n\"As for you, Pete Hopkins, if ever I ketch you bringing any child on\nthese premises, you'll be sore for a month.\"\n\nWhen Mrs. Allen had written her letter she called Bolax, not finding him\non the lawn, she went into the kitchen, supposing Hetty, the cook, was\nentertaining him, for she often had the children in roars of laughter,\nwith her funny stories about \"Brer Rabbit\" and the \"Pickaninys down\nSouf.\"\n\nBut Hetty \"hadn't laid an eye on dat boy since breakfus.\"\n\nMrs. Allen waited a while longer, then became quite uneasy.\n\nGoing to the gate she looked up and down the road.\n\nMiss Beldon saw her and asked if she was looking for Bolax. \"Yes,\" said\nMrs. Allen, \"he has been missing for two hours and I am very much\nworried about him.\"\n\n\"Well, I saw him get into a wagon right at your gate,\" said Miss Beldon.\nPoor Mrs. Allen began to think of Charlie Ross, and every other\nkidnapping story she had ever heard of. Aunt Lucy and Amy shared her\nanxiety.\n\nPat went into the woods to look for him and Hetty took the road to the\nvillage, thinking he might be found in that direction.\n\nMrs. Allen went to her refuge in all trouble, the Oratory.\n\nThere she knelt and implored the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph to help\nher find her darling boy; she felt sure the Divine Mother would\nsympathize with her, in remembrance of the anxiety she had suffered when\nthe Holy Child was lost for three days.\n\nIt was nearly noon when Mrs. Hopkins' buggy stopped at the gate. Miss\nBeldon and Aunt Lucy were overjoyed on seeing the child, Amy ran down\nthe path to meet him, calling back to Mamma that Bolax had been found.\n\nMrs. Allen, being a very nervous person became hysterical on hearing the\ngood news. Aunt Lucy took the boy in her arms, and the usually happy\nlittle face assumed a grave expression when he saw his mother seated on\nthe piazza with her handkerchief to her eyes.\n\nMrs. Hopkins told the whole story of the wild ride and begged the\nladies never to trust children with her \"Pete,\" for she said: \"I must\ntell you he ain't got the sense of a kitten and he is no more use than a\nlast year's bird's nest with the bottom knocked out.\"\n\nWhen Bo saw the state his mother was in, he realized how naughty he had\nbeen to leave home without permission. \"Dear Ma,\" said he, \"I'm so\nsorry, I didn't mean to stay away. Pete took me by mistake, and I didn't\nknow I was staying so long.\"\n\nMrs. Allen said not a word of reproof to the child, but taking his hand,\nled him quietly upstairs to the Oratory, and left him. Bo felt his\nmother's silence more keenly than if she had given him a long lecture.\n\nCalling her sister, Mrs. Allen said: \"Lucy go to that child, he is in\nthe Oratory. When he comes out, put him to bed. I must keep away from\nhim while I am so excited and nervous; I will wait until I shall have\nbecome calm, to reprimand him.\"\n\nAunt Lucy went to the door to peep in at Bo; this is the prayer she\nheard him say: \"Dear little Jesus and Holy Mother, I'm sorry I\nfrightened my darling mamma. I didn't know I was away such a long time,\nbut it was such fun, dear Jesus, you would laugh yourself if you had\nseen me on that pig.\"\n\nAunt Lucy ran away from the door, trying to smother her laughter, and\ngoing to her sister's room told what she had heard.\n\n\"Now, sister,\" she begged, \"do forgive our boy this time, there is no\nguile in the little soul, and the way he speaks to Our Lord is so sweet,\nI cannot have the heart to scold him.\"\n\n\"That is all very well, Lucy, but I fear if I trusted him to you\nalways, he would be a very spoiled child.\"\n\nHere a little voice was heard begging mamma to come and see how sorry\nher boy was.\n\nMrs. Allen let the little delinquent off with a mild reproof, and two\nhours in bed, which he needed as a rest after his wonderful exertions of\nthe morning.\n\nLittle Amy begged Mamma to allow her to remain with Brother and offered\nto tell him a story, but he preferred having her recite a new piece she\nhad just learned.\n\n\nCORINNE'S MUSICALE.\n\nBY MARGARET SIDNEY.\n\n    Inside of me says I am naughty,\n      But truly, I know I am not;\n    For if Brother Joe could see me\n      Right in this very spot,\n    He'd let me do just as I'm doing,\n      I'm very sure; that is, perhaps--\n    Oh, dear! however, do big folks\n      Hold this thing straight in their laps?\n\n    It slips, an' it slips an it slips,\n      You naughty old Banjo, oh, dear!\n    Is he coming? then what will he do\n      To find me sitting up here!\n    Ho, ho, 'twas a mouse--how silly\n      And frightened I've actually been;\n    For he'd say: \"If you hold it quite still\n      You may take it, I'm willing, Corinne!\"\n\n    I know, so now I'll begin it;\n      How does he go \"tumty tum ting,\"\n    And make such beautiful tunes,\n      Too lovely for anything?\n    I ain't a bit afraid they may hear,\n      The house people 'way off below--\n    Me playing in Brother Joe's room.\n      Still I'd better be careful, you know.\n\n    If they didn't say 'twas amusing.\n      I sh'd think 'twas stupid to play,\n    To tug at such tiresome strings\n      An' make them come over this way;\n    But it must be delightful, I'll pull\n      A very fine tune at first;\n    Now, \"tumty-tum twang!\"\n      It sounds as if something had burst!\n\n    That string must a truly been cracked.\n      Don't you s'pose? or moth-eaten p'raps;\n    Tisn't pleasant to practice I'm sure,\n      But forlorn, when anything flaps\n    So I guess I've finished; hark! hark!\n      He really is coming--oh, my!\n    Now, Banjo, I know Mamma wants me,\n      An' so I must bid you good-bye.\n\n\"Wasn't she a naughty girl,\" said Bo, \"I wouldn't do that. I never touch\nAunt Lucy's banjo--only sometimes--but I don't break it.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE PARTY.\n\n\nGreat preparations were made for Amy's seventh birthday. Uncle Dick, who\nwas an electrician, sent a number of portable electric lamps to help in\nthe decorations.\n\nAunt Lucy proposed having tableaux and pieces for the evening\nentertainment, as a welcome home to Papa Allen, who was expected soon to\nreturn from his Western trip.\n\nAmy wanted everything arranged in \"sevens,\" as she expressed it. So she\ninvited seven girls and seven boys and seven grown up people. There were\nto be seven kinds of candy and cakes, etc., and Mamma and Aunt Lucy\nworked with all their hearts to make Amy's seventh birthday a\nnever-to-be-forgotten pleasure.\n\nIt was agreed that every eatable which was set on the table for the\nchildren, should be made at home, so Miss Sweetwood, who was an expert\nin candy making, came to spend a week, and devoted her time to the\nmanufacture of all manner of dainty bonbons.\n\nAunt Lucy and Hetty took charge of the cooking, and the birthday cake\ncame from their hands a most beautiful, as well as delicious,\nconfection. There were seven sugar ornaments made like sconces to hold\nthe candles, the one in the centre resembling a white lily, was for a\nblessed candle; Mrs. Allen always managed to smuggle a pious thought\ninto every act connected with the children.\n\nTwo days before the party, Papa Allen arrived, bringing a present for\nAmy, which was received with wildest shouts of delight from both\nchildren, but was not so welcome to the grown-up members of the family,\nviz.--A goat.\n\nHetty came to bid a \"welcome home\" with the rest of the family, but held\nup her hands when she saw the new arrival and exclaimed. \"Fo' de land's\nsake! Massa Allen, you done brought a match for Bolax now, for sure.\"\n\nEarly on the morning of the twenty-first, before anyone else in the\nhouse thought of stirring, Bo's eyes were wide open.\n\nA robin perched on a bough of an apple tree just outside the window, was\nsinging his merriest, the sun was shining straight into the room and\nupon Bo's crib. \"Guess that sun woke me up,\" said he, watching with\ndelight the bright beams as they glanced and shimmered about the walls\nand over the carpet. \"When it gets to Mamma's bed it will wake her up\ntoo.\" \"Oh! I'm so tired waiting.\" Then jumping out of his crib, he ran\nover to Amy's bed, and sang out. \"One, two, three, four, five, six,\nseven. Hurrah! for your birthday, sister.\" Amy rubbed her eyes, and\nhaving made the sign of the cross, for she never forgot to give her\nfirst thought to God, was ready to join Bolax in hurrahing for the\nanticipated pleasures of the day.\n\nFirst of all, the goat was remembered, and scarcely waiting to dress,\nboth children ran to play with the new pet.\n\nFor a short time Bo allowed Amy to enjoy her present, but soon he began\nto tease, and would not let her lead the goat where she pleased.\n\n\"It's my own pet!\" cried she, \"Papa brought it to me.\" \"Well,\" said Bo,\n\"you might let me have a lend of it.\" \"Yes, but you take such a long\nlend, and you are so cruel,\" and Amy tried to pull the goat away, but Bo\nheld on, screaming and getting into a temper.\n\nPapa heard the noise and called out to know the cause of the\ndisturbance. \"Papa,\" said the gentle little girl, \"I am willing to let\nBo have Nanny for a long time, but he won't give me a chance to play\nwith her at all, and he's tormenting the poor thing, making Don bark at\nher, just to see her try to butt.\"\n\nAunt Lucy ran out to settle the dispute. Just then the breakfast bell\nrang and Nanny was left in peace. After breakfast Mamma recommended the\nchildren not to tire themselves, as the party would begin at four\no'clock in the afternoon, and they must be ready to receive their little\nfriends and help to amuse them. But nothing would induce Bo to give up\nplaying with the goat, at dinner time he was still taking \"one more lend\nof her.\"\n\nGentle Amy, who generally gave up to her little brother, could not help\nfeeling sorry for the unfortunate animal, and begged to have it sent to\nthe stable.\n\n\"Bo, dear,\" said Aunt Lucy, \"do let poor Nanny rest a while, you have\nnot given her time to eat today.\" \"Why Auntie she's had lots to eat. I\ngave her two of my handkerchiefs, and one of Amy's, and she ate them up,\nbut she seems not to like colored handkerchiefs, for I gave her one of\nHetty's, and she just took a bite, then spit it out.\"\n\nHetty happened to come to the pump just as Bo was showing the\nhandkerchief, and she fairly screamed when she saw it.\n\n\"For de land's sake! you Bolax. Look what you been a doin'. Here's my\nbest Bandanna half chewed up by dat goat.\" \"Well, Hetty, you told me\ngoats like to eat clothes, and I thought your bandanna would taste good\nto Nanny, because it is so pretty, but she didn't like it.\"\n\n\"Oh, you just shut up, you bad boy: you is made up of mischief; you'\nbones is full of it. Clar to goodness, I never was so put upon, no time,\nno whars.\"\n\nBo was very much surprised at Hetty's outburst of anger and looked quite\nfrightened, he offered to give her all the pennies in his bank to buy a\nnew bandanna, but she would not be pacified, and still continued to\nscold.\n\n\"Hetty, dear,\" said the little culprit, \"please don't speak so hard, it\nhurts my heart.\" But angry Hetty continued with: \"You certainly is one\nof dem. Massa Bo, you'se done so much mischief dis here day, and it's\nMiss Amy's birthday too; if I was you I'd go to de Oritey and pray de\ngood Lord to hold you in, if He kin, just for de rest of dis day. I'se\nafraid you g'wine to spile all de fun dis arternoon by some of your fool\ntricks.\"\n\nBo seeing Hetty was determined to remain angry, ran off to escape\nfurther scolding. When he was gone Aunt Lucy told Hetty she must blame\nherself for the loss of her handkerchief, as she had told the child\nabout the calves and goats feeding on such things. \"You see, Hetty, as\nyet Bo does not know what an untruth means, and cannot distinguish\nbetween joke and earnest, he firmly believes all that grown up people\ntell him, and I have no doubt, thought that he was giving a dainty\nmorsel to the goat, when he offered her your best bandanna.\"\n\n\"Oh you! Miss Lucy, you always takes up for dat boy.\"\n\n\"Yes, and there's some one else, 'takes up' for him, sometimes, and her\nname is Hetty.\"\n\nAt three o'clock Mamma and Aunt Lucy dressed the children. Amy was as\nusual in blue and white, for she had been consecrated to the Blessed\nVirgin, from the time she was a baby. Her dress for the occasion was\nvery beautiful, trimmed with soft laces, a present from her Godmother,\nand she looked like a little princess, with her long golden curls and\ndark eyes.\n\nBo wore his black velvet kilt, with a large lace collar, and the sweet\nlittle face, peeping out from beneath his crown of curls, might have\nbeen taken for something angelic, if one did not get a glimpse of his\nmischievous gray eye.\n\nPromptly at four, the children trooped in; Amy did the honors in a most\ncharming manner, and Bo amused the boys by showing them his numerous\npets. Games of all kinds were played, and judging from the laughter and\nnoise, Amy's guests were having what is called \"a good time.\"\n\nNever was there a more glorious twenty-first of June; the sky was so\nblue and bright, not the least bit of a cloud was to be seen, the air\nwas balmy and entirely free from dampness, so the table for the children\nwas set under the trees on the lawn. A snowy white cloth was spread and\nplaces arranged for fourteen. Before each cover was a pretty box\ncontaining candied fruit, to each box was attached a card with these\nwords in gilt letters: From Amy to her friends; this was to be carried\nhome as a souvenir. In the centre of the table the birthday cake stood\non a bank of red and white roses. These bouquets of flowers were placed\nbetween pyramids of ice cream and mounds of toothsome dainties.\nDelicious white and red and pink raspberries were served on plates\nresembling green leaves.\n\nAs the clock struck six, the children were called to take their places\nat the table, but just as they were seated, who should walk up the\ngarden path, but Father Leonard, the dearest friend of the family. Mr.\nand Mrs. Allen hastened to greet him: \"Well, well,\" said he, \"what is\nall this?\" Amy ran to welcome her favorite and told him it was her\nbirthday party. \"Now my little daughter,\" said the good father. \"I feel\nvery much slighted at not receiving an invitation.\" \"Oh!\" replied the\nlittle lady, \"please do not be offended, but come sit at the head of the\ntable and ask blessing on my feast.\" This the good father did most\njoyfully, and when the youngsters were seated, every one showed his\nappreciation of the good things by the dispatch with which the platters\nwere cleared. Aunt Lucy's famous drop cakes disappeared in such numbers,\nthat some of the Mammas began to fear they would have to nurse cases of\nindigestion.\n\nAt length the time came to cut the birthday cake. The seven candles upon\nit had remained lighted during the repast and Mr. Allen put them out\nbefore dividing it; he was just going to extinguish the last one, when\nMaster Bo jumped on the table, regardless of all propriety, and cried\nout, \"Oh, Papa, let me blow out the middle candle, that is a blessed one\nand I want to breathe the holy smoke.\"\n\nThere was a hearty laugh at this and Father Leonard enjoyed the joke\nmore than any one. When he could manage to speak after the hilarity had\nsubsided he asked: \"Bo, why did you want to breathe the holy smoke?\"\n\"Because,\" answered the boy, \"Hetty says the mischief spirit is in me,\nand I wanted to smoke it out.\" Again there was an outburst of laughter,\nalthough only the older folks understood the wit of Bo's remark.\n\nAfter supper the children prepared for the entertainment. Those who were\nto speak or sing went with Aunty Lucy and Miss May to have some last\nfinishing touches put to their toilet, and make sure they remembered\ntheir pieces.\n\nThe end of the piazza had been arranged as a stage. Three large Japanese\nscreens formed a back ground and an arch of white climbing roses and\nhoney suckles served instead of a drop curtain. Groups of electric lamps\nhad been placed so as to have the light fall directly on the little\nactors. Chairs and benches for the audience were arranged on the lawn\njust opposite the arch. At half past eight o'clock, it was sufficiently\ndark to bring out the illumination on the piazza, so the show began.\n\nThe first scene represented Amy seated on a chair, which was draped with\ngilt paper, festooned with flowers and resembled a veritable golden\nthrone. From behind the scene came seven children carrying flowers and\nsinging:\n\n    We come, we come from hill and dell\n    To welcome her we love so well.\n    We come on wings of silver light,\n    For 'tis our Amy's festal night.\n    We bring her from our fairy bowers\n    Tiny buds and opening flowers,\n    In mystic language they all shall tell\n    We love our darling Amy well.\n\nThen one of the little girls placed a crown of Lilies of the Valley on\nthe little queen's head, and the other children laid their flowers at\nher feet.\n\nThis was a total surprise to Amy, for the children had been told not to\nlet her know they were learning the song; her sweet face was a study\nwhile she received the homage of her little friends, but she was equal\nto the occasion, and rising from her seat made a profound bow and said,\n\"Thank you! Oh! I thank you so much.\" After this came a violin solo by\nAdolph Lane, which was extremely well rendered. Edith Scot and her\nbrother danced the \"Sailors' Hornpipe\" dressed in fancy costume.\n\nBolax and his chum, Robbie Thornton, spoke Whitcomb Riley's \"When the\nWorld Busts Through.\" Suggested by an earthquake.\n\n    Where's a boy a-goin';\n    An' what's he goin' to do,\n    And how's he goin' to do it\n    When the world busts through?\n    Ma says \"she can't tell\n    What we're comin' to!\"\n    An' Pop says, \"He's jest skeered\n    Clean-plum through.\"\n\n                                   Second Boy.\n\n    Suppose we'd be a playin'\n    Out in the street,\n    An' the ground 'nd split up\n    'Bout forty feet!\n    Ma says, \"She jest knows\n    We 'ud tumble in;\"\n    An' Pop's says, \"Bet you,\n    Den you wouldn't grin.\"\n\n                                    First Boy.\n\n    S'pose we'd jest be pretendin'\n    Like we had a show,\n    Down in the stable\n    Where we mustn't go--\n    Ma says, \"the earthquake\n    Might make it fall;\"\n    An' Pop says, \"more'n like\n    Swaller barn an' all.\"\n\n    Landy! ef we wuz\n    Runin' away from school,\n    Down in the shady woods\n    Where it's all so cool!\n    Ma says \"a big tree\n    Might squash our head;\"\n    An' Pop says, \"chop 'em out\n    Both killed-dead.\"\n\n                                    Both Boys.\n\n    But where is a boy a-goin',\n    An' what's he goin' to do,\n    An' how's he going' to do it,\n    Er the world bust through.\n\nThe little fellows recited this with scared faces and such comical\ngravity as to keep every one laughing. Amy came next with \"Songs of\nSeven,\" by Jean Ingelow.\n\n    There's no dew left on the daisies and clover,\n      There's no rain left in Heaven,\n    I've said my Seven times over and over,\n      Seven times one are seven.\n\n    I am old, so old, I can write a letter,\n      My birthday lessons are done;\n    The lambs play always, they know no better;\n      They are only one times one.\n\n    Oh, moon! in the night I've seen you sailing\n      And shining so round and low,\n    You were bright; ah, bright! but your light is\n      Failing, you are nothing now but a bow.\n\n    You moon, have you done something wrong in Heaven\n      That God has hidden your face?\n    I hope if you have, you will soon be forgiven,\n      And shine again in your place.\n\n    Oh, velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow;\n      You've powdered your wings with gold;\n    Oh, brave Marsh--marigold rich and yellow\n      Give me your money to hold.\n\n    And show me your nest with the young ones in it;\n      I will not steal them away!\n    I am old, you may trust me, Linnet, Linnet,\n      I am seven years old today.\n\nThis was beautifully rendered and such a very appropriate selection for\na seventh birthday. The entertainment ended, every one prepared to go\nhome, one and all expressing their delight and declaring it was the most\nenjoyable birthday party they had ever witnessed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nPLEASANT CONTROVERSY.\n\n\nMr. Allen sat on the porch smoking, when Mr. Steck, the Lutheran\nminister, opened the gate and walked in. Mr. Allen greeted him cordially\nand invited him to be seated.\n\nThe day was warm, but there was always a breeze on the corner of that\nporch, where the odor of the honeysuckle and climbing roses, which gave\nshade, made it a most inviting spot to rest.\n\n\"Have a segar, Mr. Steck.\" \"Thank you, Mr. Allen, I am glad to see you\nat home on a week day, it is so seldom you take a holiday.\" \"Holidays\nare not for men with a family to support; you may thank your stars, you\nare a bachelor.\" \"That sounds as though you think I have a great share\nof leisure time. Well, I acknowledge my duties in this village are not\nvery onerous, still I find enough to do. By the way, I have just been to\nsee Miss Ogden. It is wonderful how the poor girl clings to life. As I\nleft her house, I met Amy and Bolax, the dear children asked so kindly\nafter the dying girl, but Bo--now don't be offended Mr. Allen, I have\nalways taken a great interest in that boy having known him from a baby;\nhe is wonderfully bright, makes such witty remarks,\" \"and does such\ntormenting mischief at times,\" interrupted Mr. Allen. \"Well,\" continued\nMr. Steck, \"When I told the children how ill Miss Ogden was, Bo gave me\nthis medal of St. Benedict, telling me to put it on the poor girl's\nneck, and she would be sure to get well. I asked who told him that?\nThen Amy looked at me so earnestly and said: 'Oh, Saint Benedict can\ncure anybody. You know he was a great doctor when he was on earth, and\nhe was so good our Lord gave him power to cure people who wear his\nmedal.' 'Yes, and he cured Nannie,' said Bo, 'see I have the medal on\nher yet;' and lifting a daisy chain he showed me the medal on the goat's\nneck.\" \"Ha! ha! ha!\" laughed Mr. Allen, \"that's so like Bolax, he is a\nmixture of imp and angel.\"\n\n\"Now my friend,\" continued Mr. Steck, \"allow me to ask you, who have\nbeen brought up an Episcopalian, if you approve of such superstitions? I\ndid not suppose that educated Romanists entered into ridiculous\npractices of this sort; putting faith in--well, I might as well say it:\nIdols!\" \"--Hold on, Mr. Steck, I am not versed in the theology of the\nCatholic Church, and do not try to account for a great many little\ncustoms such as my little ones spoke about, but I'll venture to assert\nthey do not injure the souls or bodies of those who believe in them. My\nwife never bothers me about her religion, never enters into controversy,\nalthough I have a notion, that on the sly, she is praying me into it.\"\n\n\"And from what you say,\" remarked Mr. Steck, \"I think her prayers are\nbeing heard. I don't object to the Catholic religion; I think many of\nits doctrines are good and sound, but it would be more edifying to the\ngeneral run of Christians, if there were not so many superstitious\npractices allowed.\" \"Come, now Mr. Steck do not condemn what you do not\nunderstand. I travel a great deal as you know, and often attend\nchurches of different denominations; but whenever I try to get an\nexplanation of their various beliefs, one and all answer me somewhat in\nthis manner: 'Well, I don't believe thus and so;' 'I don't approve of\nthis or that doctrine,' etc. I never can get any of them to say right\nout what they do believe. One point only do they all agree upon and that\nis, condemnation of the Roman Catholic Church.\" Opening a memorandum\nbook, Mr. Allen took out a paper saying, \"here is a hymn which I heard\nsung in a Campbellite Sunday School:\n\n    \"Come to me my little Children,\n    Sing and raise your voices high;\n    Sing of Jesus, not of Mary,\n    Nor other popish patron saints;\n    They can neither save nor help us,\n    Nor attend to our Complaints;\n    Tell your little popish neighbors\n    How to Jesus they may go\n    If they wish to get to Heaven,\n    They must worship Him alone.\"\n\n\"Very poor verse, but I copied it from one of the Hymn Books. Now, what\ncan be gained by teaching children such absurdities? If you were\nintimately acquainted with Catholic little ones, you would find they\nbring Jesus into their daily lives more than do those who are taught to\nridicule them.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Mr. Steck, \"I admit there are many ignorant preachers out\nWest, who think they honor God by abusing the Catholic religion, but you\nnever hear me or Mr. Patton make use of an uncharitable word in\nconnection with any one religion.\"\n\n\"Mr. Steck let me tell you that even the children of illiterate parents,\nwho are practical Catholics, you will find able to answer questions\nabout their religion, and keep Jesus in their thoughts. Just to give you\nan example: yesterday my wife went over to Miss Scrips and found her\ntying up a rosebush in the garden, the cook's little boy, about seven\nyears old, held the branch for her, while doing this, he uttered a cry\nof pain, tears came into his eyes, but checking himself, he said: \"Oh,\nif one thorn hurts so much how dreadful He must have suffered with His\nhead all covered with thorns. Poor Jesus!\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said Mr. Steck, \"that was extraordinary. He must be an\nexceptional boy. Such a child will die young, or be a great preacher\nsome day.\" \"Well, I just tell this one instance,\" replied Mr. Allen, \"to\nlet you see the impression made on the heart of Catholic children by\nconstantly keeping before them incidents in the life of Christ.\n\n\"Papa! Papa!\" was heard in the distance. Mr. Allen got up saying: \"That\nsounds like Bolax.\" Going to the gate he saw a crowd of youngsters\nfollowing Bo, who was vainly trying to catch the goat. Nan was tearing\ndown the road with Roy, Buz and Don his pet dogs, in full chase after\nher. It was too funny to see Nan turn on the dogs, stand on hind legs\nand with a loud Ma-a-a! start off again.\n\n\"I wish I were a few years younger,\" said Mr. Steck, \"I'd join in the\nchase.\" Mr. Allen tried to head Nan off, Bo kept yelling--\"Papa make the\ndogs stop barking, it frightens poor Nan.\" In going to the rescue, Mr.\nAllen left the garden gate open, Nannie rushed in tearing over the\nflower beds, to the great dismay of the onlookers, especially Hetty who\nhad come out to see what the row was about, grumbling to herself: \"If\nyo' flower beds is spiled, youse got yu' own self to blame, Mr. Allen,\nit ain't no sense in havin' so many live creters round de place no how.\"\n\nPat came on the scene laughing in his good-natured way and catching the\ngoat led her off to the stable.\n\n\"Don't whip poor Nannie,\" cried Bolax, \"it wasn't her fault, it was the\ndogs that made her run through the flowers, but, oh--Pat don't whip them\nneither; it was the boys who sicked them on Nan.\" \"I'll not bate any of\nthem shure,\" said Pat, \"Master Bo, it's yourself is the tender-hearted\nspalpeen after all.\" Mr. Steck patted the boy, who looked ready to cry\nand consoled him by promising him a ride on horse-back. \"Good-bye, my\nlittle man. Good-bye Mr. Steck,\" said Mr. Allen, \"come again whenever\nyou want to see a circus.\"\n\nPapa did not say much about the wreck of his flower beds, seeing the\ndistress of his little boy. Hetty took him into the kitchen to comfort\nhim and put on a clean blouse. Mamma, Aunt Lucy and Amy had been out all\nthe afternoon, so Bolax tried to amuse himself. Looking out of the\nwindow, he saw Buz, Roy and Don hunting something in the strawberry\npatch. Off he started to see what they were after. To his surprise, all\nthree dogs were eating the nice big strawberries; he chased them out,\nand going through the fence went into the woods followed by the three\nrascals. Bo gathered all sorts of \"plunder,\" as Hetty called his\ntreasures.\n\nWhen Aunt Lucy came home, he called to her saying he had such a\nbeautiful horrible bug to show her. \"I know you'll like him, he's a\ntremendous big fellow, I put him in your soap dish to save him for you.\"\nOn opening the soap dish, however, the \"beautiful horrible bug\" was\nnowhere to be seen, although Aunt Lucy looked carefully in every corner\nand crevice for she did not fancy sleeping in a room with such company.\n\nTo pacify Bolax for the loss of his treasure Aunt Lucy told him about a\nstag-beetle her uncle had as a pet. \"Uncle would put a drop of brandy\nand water in a spoon, and Mr. Beetle would sip a little, and then dance\nabout, sometimes he would get quite frolicsome, and behave in such a\nfunny way, staggering round, going one-sided, try to fly and at last\ngive it up and go into a sound sleep. When he awoke he would make a\nbuzzing noise, stretch out a leg or two, then fly as well as ever. Uncle\nkept him six months; I don't know how he happened to die, but one\nmorning he was stiff--we were all so sorry.\"\n\nBolax listened, seeming quite interested, but when his aunt stopped\nspeaking he began to whine: \"But I want my beautiful horrible bug, I\njust do want him. Papa go upstairs and look for him, I had such trouble\ncatching him in the woods. He has a red saddle under his black wings,\nand big horns, and stiff legs and red eyes. Please find him, Papa; I\nwant to make a pet of him.\"\n\nHere Mamma came up on the porch, and hearing about her boy going into\nthe woods alone, was inclined to scold, as she had strictly forbidden\nthe children to venture into lonely places without some one to watch\nover them. Bolax, then said, Adolph Layne had been with him. \"Well,\"\nsaid Mamma, \"I'm glad to know that--no doubt, we will find your\n'beautiful horrible bug' in the morning. It cannot get away as the\nwindows are all screened. He may have the room to himself and Aunt Lucy\ncan sleep in the spare room.\"\n\nAmy spied a Lady bug on the climbing rosebush, she caught it and gave it\nto her little brother to comfort him for his loss. Papa told the\nchildren never to harm a Lady bug because they are very useful insects.\n\"In fact,\" said he, \"I would like to have them on all my vines and\nbushes, for they always feed on the plant lice, which infest our\nchoicest flowers. Indeed, I never could think of a Lady bug as a mere\ninsect.\" \"Oh!\" said Amy, \"why can't we call her Lady bird. She has\nstrong little wings, and really seems like a tiny bird.\" \"Well,\"\ncontinued Papa, \"when I was very small, I often caught the dear little\nthings, and firmly believed they understood when I said: 'Lady bug fly\naway home.' When one flew from my hand, I followed, watched her going\nhome and found where she laid her eggs. She always selects a rosebush or\nhoneysuckle or a hop vine, because they are more likely than others to\nhave plant lice upon them. Lady bug's eggs are a bright yellow, small,\nflat and oval; when they are hatched out, the babies find their food all\nready for them.\n\n\"At first, when just out of the egg, is the time the young ones eat\nmillions of plant lice; after a few weeks good feeding, they get fat,\nand round, and casting off their first skin appear in their shining\nbeauty coats.\" \"Thank you, Papa, dear,\" said Amy, I always did love\n'Lady birds,' but now I shall love them more than ever.\" \"Papa, may I\nask you, do you know anything about snakes?\"\n\n\"Snakes!\" cried Mamma and Aunt Lucy. \"Yes, Mamma dear, the poor things\neverybody hates them, and no one says a good word about them.\"\n\n\"Ow! ow! help! for de Lord's sake!\" It was Hetty's voice coming from the\ncellar. All rushed to the rescue, thinking the poor soul might have\nfallen. On opening the cellar door, Hetty was seen tumbling up the\nstairs, her eyes starting out of her head, scarcely able to articulate.\n\"Oh, Miss Allen, de debble is arter me. He down dere, I done seed him\nplain. Oh! Oh! I'm done frustrated to death!\" All tried to pacify the\nfrightened creature, but it was no use. \"I'se done gone dis time. My\nheart's pumpin' out of me!\" Mr. Allen went to see what could have given\nHetty such a shock, when he too, gave a very undignified yell, as he\ncaught sight of a big black snake. Bolax ran to him, calling out, \"Why\nPapa, what is the matter, what made you screech?\" \"Don't come down\nhere,\" called Mr. Allen, \"Lucy bring the poker.\" \"Oh, what on earth is\nit, brother? A snake! I don't wonder Hetty is scared to death.\"\n\n\"Oh, Papa, dear,\" called Bolax. \"Don't kill him. Tommy Hoden gave him to\nme to put in the cellar to catch mice. I thought Hetty would be glad,\nbut she is such a scare cat.\"\n\nMrs. Allen told her sister to give Hetty some valerniate of ammonia to\nquiet her nerves, and let her rest for the evening; we will attend to\ndinner; stay with her until she is soothed.\n\n\"Bolax, come upstairs. What are we to do with you? Positively you must\nstop handling reptiles and insects; you will be poisoned some day.\"\n\nThe little fellow listened to all his mother had to say, but seemed\nsurprised that every one found fault when he expected to be praised.\n\"Ma, dear,\" said he, \"I didn't mean to frighten anyone. I'm not afraid\nof snakes, and Tommy Hoden is a good boy now, since you have him in\nCatechism class, and he wanted that snake for himself, but he spared it\njust to please Hetty.\"\n\n\"Well, dear, I believe you would not willingly give pain to Hetty, but\nyou are nearly six years old and it is time you should have some thought\nabout you, say your prayers and go to bed.\" Bo's prayer:\n\nDear Jesus, Bless Hetty and don't let her be such a scare cat. Holy\nMother of Jesus, bless me and don't let me be doing wrong things when I\nmean to do right things; help all the poor and the sick, and all the\npeople in the world and don't let anyone be cruel to animals. Bless\nevery one in the whole world, Amen. Oh, I forgot, bless Mamma and Papa\nand Sister and Auntie, but you know I always have them in my heart.\nAmen.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nTHE PICNIC.\n\n\nThe feast of the Assumption. What a glorious day! Clear and bright, more\nlike June than August.\n\nMrs. Allen and Amy went to early Mass. After breakfast Aunt Lucy\nproposed taking Bolax to high Mass, as the music was to be unusually\nfine. St. James' choir from the city volunteered their services. Mr. Van\nHorn sent out a fine organ to replace the squeaky, little melodeon, for\nit was the first anniversary of the dedication of the little country\nchurch, and all wanted to have an especially fine service.\n\nBo promised to be \"better than good\" while in Church. There was a very\nlarge congregation, the country people coming for miles around to hear\nthe music and assist at the grand high Mass.\n\nWhen Aunt Lucy and her charge entered the Church every seat seemed to be\ntaken. Mrs. Allen's pew was filled with strangers, so dear old Madame\nHarte beckoned her to come into her pew.\n\nFrom the beginning of the service, Bo was in an ecstasy of delight,\nexcept for an occasional tapping of his feet when the music was very\ninspiriting, he sat motionless.\n\nNot to impose on the child's patience too long, Madame Harte offered to\ntake him out during the sermon. \"Oh, dear Hartie, is it all over?\" said\nBo. \"No pet, but the priest is going to give a sermon, and you would be\nso tired.\" \"No, I wouldn't, what is a sermon?\" said Bo. \"Oh, a very long\ntalk, dear; come out with me,\" whispered Madame, \"and I will bring you\nback when the music begins again.\"\n\n\"Will the priest tell stories?\" asked Bo, when he got outside. \"I like\nlong talks when the talk is stories.\"\n\n\"Come dear, let us sit under that tree over there and I will tell you a\ntrue story.\" \"Oh, thank you, Hartie dear.\"\n\n\"Once long ago, our dear Lord died and--\" \"Rose again and went up into\nHeaven,\" said Bo all in one breath. \"Mamma tells me that every day at my\nprayers.\"\n\n\"Well,\" continued Mrs. Harte, \"after Jesus went up to Heaven His holy\nMother was very lonely, so she prayed and prayed to Jesus to take her up\nto Heaven, that she might be with Him forever. Well, one beautiful day,\njust like this, Jesus called a company of angels and sent them down to\nthe earth to bring His blessed Mother up to Him.\"\n\n\"Did the Angels march out of Heaven like soldiers?\" asked Bo.\n\n\"Yes, dear; they put on their brightest robes, and beautiful clouds of\ncrimson and gold surrounded them, and then they carried the holy Mother\nup, up, until they came to the golden throne where Jesus sat, ready to\nwelcome her; He placed her beside Him and there she remains happy\nforever.\"\n\nWhen the organ began the grand music of the Credo, Bo made a dash for\nthe door, and could scarcely be persuaded to enter the Church quietly.\nAfter he was seated, he listened intently and was apparently very much\ninterested in the Altar boys.\n\nAt length came the \"Agnus Dei,\" which ends, as all have heard, with\n\"Dona nobis pacem.\" The music score called for a repetition of the word\n\"Pacem,\" somewhat in this manner, \"Dona Pacem, Pacem,\" the basso calling\nout \"Pacem! Pacem!\"\n\nWith startling suddenness, Bo exclaimed: \"Why are they singing about a\nPossum?\"\n\nAunt Lucy caught him by the hand and hurried him to the side door, which\nwas fortunately near; those who were within hearing, with difficulty\ncontrolled their laughter. \"Are you crying, Aunty?\" said the funny\nyoungster, as he saw the flushed face of his aunt. \"No, Bo, dear; I came\nout because you spoke so loud.\" \"Oh, I forgot; please forgive me; let me\ngo in again; I'll be so good, but Aunty dear, I didn't know they ever\nlet possums into Church.\" Mass was not over, and as it was a holy day of\nobligation, Aunt Lucy felt unwilling to leave until the last Gospel. On\nreflection, however, she thought it best not to give further distraction\nby returning to her seat.\n\nOn her way home, she stopped to see a child, who belonged to the\nCatechism class, hoping to find him able to join the rest of the\nchildren, who were going to have their annual picnic. The little fellow\nhad hurt his foot, but his mother said he was now able to walk nicely.\n\nAfter Mass, Miss Devine and Madame Harte drove over to Allen's to see\nabout the proposed outing. There they met the ladies Keating, all\ndiscussed Bo's latest exploit and laughed heartily about the Possum.\n\n\"Our class has increased so largely this year, I fear we cannot have\nroom for all the children on my grounds,\" observed Mrs. Allen. \"Suppose\nwe make it a straw ride,\" said Miss Keating. \"We can give a substantial\nlunch, with ice cream and cake for dessert, and a bag of candy to take\nhome.\" \"Oh, grand! grand!\" said Amy, clapping her hands, \"and Ma, dear,\nI have two children I want to invite; they don't come to the class\nbecause they live so far away; I mean little Johnny Burke, who is lame,\nand Dotty, the blind child. I love them because they are afflicted.\"\n\n\"My darling, you shall invite the poor little ones, and I am glad to see\nyou have such a compassionate heart.\" \"Suppose we hire Johnson's big hay\nwagon,\" said Miss Keating, \"it will hold all the children and two grown\nfolks to look after them.\"\n\n\"That will be just the thing,\" said Miss Devine, \"my contribution shall\nbe the ice cream and cake.\" \"and mine,\" said Madame Harte, \"the candy.\"\n\"I will help with the substantials and let the little things have more\nthan enough for once in their lives,\" this from Miss Keating, whose\nwhole time seemed to be taken up with helping the poor. \"We can drive to\nSilver Lake woods,\" she proposed, \"that is just six miles away and will\nnot be too long a ride.\" After making all arrangements, the ladies took\nleave of Mrs. Allen, promising to be on hand on Thursday, August 20th.\n\nThe next day was Sunday. At Catechism class Mrs. Allen told the children\nof the proposed ride and picnic, which should take place on the next\nThursday; all expressed their delight and you may be sure, thought of\nnothing else during the intervening days.\n\nThe next morning Bolax was playing with his dogs on the lawn when Tom\nHoden made his appearance; he stood outside the gate, looking wistfully\nat Bo. Mrs. Allen called him in and gave him some breakfast. \"Did your\nfather tell you of my visit?\" said the lady. Tom answered in his surly\nmanner: \"Yes, the old man said you was to the house, but I don't want to\ngo to Sunday School, the fellows would call me 'rags,' and I ain't got\nno shoes.\" \"That can be easily remedied,\" said Mrs. Allen, \"come here\ntomorrow and see what I will have for you.\"\n\nThe poor boy's face brightened up, and making an awkward attempt to\nthank the lady, he ran out of the gate.\n\nWhen Tom presented himself next day, Pat was called upon to give him a\nbath and dress him in a good suit of clothes. \"Here he is, ma'am,\" said\nPat, \"and ye'd hardly believe it's the same boy.\"\n\nTom held up his head and seemed quite happy; so true it is, that be one\never so poor, a clean, respectable appearance makes one feel at ease\nwith himself and on better terms with his fellows. \"Now Tom, I expect\nyou to be here on next Thursday morning at nine o'clock.\" Tom promised\nto come and thanked Mrs. Allen.\n\nThe appointed day arrived. Long before the wagon came, the children\nflocked into the garden. Pat was on the alert lest his flower beds\nshould suffer.\n\nMiss Keating and Mrs. Allen made all be seated, and to while away the\ntime sang:\n\n    \"Wait for the wagon, wait for the wagon,\n    Wait for the wagon and we'll all take a ride.\n    We are all good children; our teachers say with pride.\n    So now to reward us, they give us all a ride.\"\n\nThe children clapped for this; then Aunt Lucy played on the piano which\ncould be heard distinctly out on the lawn.\n\nAmy and Aunt Lucy sang:\n\n    \"Come where flowers are flinging\n      Beauty o'er the meadows gay,\n    Where glad birds are singing,\n      Free from care the live long day.\n\n    Come where skies are smiling,\n      Where the merry fountains play,\n    Come, all care beguiling,\n      Keep with Nature Holiday.\n\n    Then away to the woods,\n      Where wild flowers bloom,\n    Where the breezes are laden\n      With sweetest perfume.\n\n    With our feet light as fairies,\n      And hearts full of glee,\n    We will sing with the wild bird\n      And roam with the bee,\n      Oh, come away, away!\"\n\nMary Dowry called Amy's attention to a charming little girl about six\nyears old, who smiled through the railing and looked wistfully at the\nchildren. She was dressed in a pink frock, which set off her soft dark\neyes.\n\nAmy went towards her and she said, \"Good morning,\" so sweetly. \"I\nbelieve she wants to come with us,\" said Amy. \"Oh, don't let her,\" cried\nNellie Day, \"she's only a Dago.\"\n\n\"Well, I'll give her some candy,\" said Bolax, \"I like nice Dagos,\" and\ngoing to his mother, he told about the strange child. Mrs. Allen gave\nhim a large bag of candy which he handed to the little girl.\n\nOn receiving it she said, \"gracias, gracias.\" What is she saying \"grassy\nice for?\" said Nellie Day, \"perhaps she wants ice cream.\" \"No\" said Aunt\nLucy \"she is saying 'Thank you' in Italian. What pretty manners she has.\nI think some of our American children might profit by her sweet ways.\"\n\n\"I'm sure she has a nice mother,\" said Amy. \"Let us take her with us.\"\n\"I would, willingly dear,\" said Aunt Lucy, \"but her people would think\nher lost, and we do not know where to send them word.\"\n\nGreat was the jubilation of the children, and not a little surprise\namong the ladies when the wagon appeared festooned with bunting, the\ndriver carrying a flag, and the horses' heads decked in like manner. It\nwas so kind of Mr. Johnson to give the decorations. Miss Keating and\nAunt Lucy seated themselves and the children in the straw; then as the\nold song says:\n\n    \"Snap went the whip, 'round went the wheels,\n    Were ever folks more glad.\"\n\nOld and young joined in the fun and made the welkin ring with their\nmirth. Hetty and Pat put the lunch baskets and ice cream into the\ndayton, and with Miss Devine, Madame Harte and Mrs. Allen in the large\ncarry-all followed the procession to Silver Lake woods.\n\nThe road strolled leisurely out of the village and then, abruptly left\nit behind, and curved about a hillside. Silver Lake woods sat on a hill\nslope studded with pine trees; at the foot of the hill could be seen a\nmost beautiful piece of water glistening in the sunshine. This was the\nlake. Life of the forest seemed to enter into the veins of the children\nand they ran and capered like wild deer. The horses were unharnessed so\nthat they might rest.\n\nPat and Mr. Johnson's man put up swings and hammocks. The Misses Keating\nand Aunt Lucy set the children to play games; Hare and Hounds suited the\nboys and they raced to hearts' content. The Lake was guarded by Miss\nDevine's coachman, John, so that no venturesome lad would put himself in\ndanger. The girls were easily made happy with quiet games, swings and\nhammocks.\n\nTo the children, of course, the lunch was the principal feature, so the\nladies spread an immense white cloth on the grass, around which all sat,\nand were served to as many chicken and ham sandwiches as they could eat.\nTin cups of delicious milk and lots of sweet buns followed. Then came\nthe ice cream and cake; by the time this was disposed of, it became\nevident the children could hold no more, so Madame Harte's candy was\nreserved for the homeward trip.\n\nThe men were not forgotten, and were well supplied with a substantial\ndinner of cold roast beef, pickles, bread and butter, a dozen of lemons\nand a pound of sugar to make lemonade. For, as Hetty, said, \"dem dere\nfellows ain't goin' to care for soft vittles; dey wants sumpin' dat will\nkeep dem from gettin' hollow inside.\" After the feast Pat and the other\nmen gathered everything up, and packed all into the dayton, then Pat\nstarted for home.\n\nThe ladies were rather fatigued after their exertions in amusing and\nwaiting on the children, so they rested in the hammocks awhile. As for\nthe little ones, nothing seemed to tire them, they tore around as fresh\nand lively as if the day were just beginning. At four o'clock Mrs. Allen\nrang a bell to summon all to prepare for home. When the wagon came all\npiled in, laughing and shouting in their glee. Amy was most attentive to\nher little proteges, waiting on them and attending to all their wants.\nLittle Dotty kept saying: \"Dear Miss Amy, I love you; I thank you, and\nI'll always pray for you for giving me such a happy, happy day.\"\n\nBolax took little lame Johnny under his care, when the children were\nbeing placed in the wagon, he called out to the driver, \"be sure to seat\nJohnny on a soft bunch of hay, because his leg is not strong.\" \"Why did\nyou say that?\" said Nellie Day. \"You ought to have said, because his is\nlame.\" \"No, I just wouldn't say that,\" said Bo, \"it might hurt Johnny's\nheart; my Mamma says we must never let lame people know we see their\nlameness, and never look at crooked-backed children, because it makes\nthen feel worse.\"\n\nWhen the wagon was ready to start, the driver offered to see all the\nchildren safely to their homes; he said most of them lived near the\nquarry, and he would take the pike road, which passed within a few\nminutes' walk of it. Johnny and little Dotty he promised to deliver into\nthe hands of their mothers.\n\nThe ladies Keating had ordered their carriage to call for them, and Miss\nDevine's \"carry-all\" held the rest of the party, including Bo and Amy.\n\nThis ended one happy day filled with love and kindness, and sweet\ncharity towards God's poor little ones.\n\n\nCATECHISM CLASS.\n\nOn the Sunday after the picnic, the Catechism class met. All the pupils\nwere eager to show their appreciation of the happy day their kind\nteachers had given them.\n\nThe subject of instruction was the Ten Commandments. Mrs. Allen made a\nfew remarks in simple, plain words, showing the advantages of truth over\nfalsehood; dwelling particularly on the Seventh and Eighth Commandments,\nsaying how happy one felt when his conscience told him, he was entirely\nfree from the mean habit of lying and taking little things which were\nthe property of others.\n\nAfter class was dismissed, Tom lingered on the piazza. Mrs. Allen went\nto him, and asked him if he wanted to speak to her. \"Yes, ma'am;\" said\nthe boy, \"I once took a wheelbarrow out of your yard; I am very sorry;\nif you will trust me, I'll work out the price of it on your place. I\ncould help Pat if he'd let me. I'm strong; I'm twelve now.\" Mrs. Allen\nwas touched with the evident sincerity of the boy, and thanked God that\nthe good seed was already bearing fruit. Taking the boy's hand, she told\nhim our Lord would certainly forgive and bless him since he bravely\nacknowledged his fault. \"You may come tomorrow and I will give you work\nand keep you here until I can get you a permanent situation.\" Tom\nthanked his kind benefactress, promising to return the next day.\n\nAs he was passing out the gate Bo hailed him. \"You're a good boy now\nTom, so I can walk with you a little way; I am going to give you a pair\nof my darling white rats. They're such cute little things; they eat corn\nout of my mouth and run all over me.\" \"Thank you, Bo, but I'd better\ndon't take 'em, our place is full of black rats and they'd be sure to\neat up the white ones.\" As Tom was speaking, he threw a stone at a bird\nthat was hopping along the path. \"Stop that!\" said Bo, \"you're getting\nbad again; that's a robin. Robins are blessed birds, because when our\nLord was nailed on the Cross, a robin flew near and tried to pull the\nthorns out of His dear head, but robin was not strong, so he only could\npull one thorn out, and the blood of poor Jesus got on the bird's\nfeathers so that is why robin's breast is red.\" \"Is that really so, who\ntold you?\" \"My dear Mamma told me, and she knows everything in the\nworld, so it is true Tom, and if you want my Mamma to love you, you must\nbe kind to animals and kind to birds especially to robins.\"\n\n\"Well, little fellow, I will try for your sake. You see I never knowed\nabout nothing, so I done bad acts. Now since I go to Catechism class\nI'll try to do good acts.\"\n\nAfter leaving Tom, Bolax loitered on the way home, amusing himself with\nhis dogs; when he went into the house, Hetty called him. \"Where you done\nbeen such a long time, boy?\" \"Oh, I was only down the hill,\" replied Bo.\n\"Well, here's me and sister a working while you'se playin'; just you\ncome, let me wash you' hands and den you kin help us make dese here\ncookies.\" Amy was already busy rolling out dough and cutting cakes, so\nBo was delighted to help. \"Hetty, dear,\" said he, \"if I roll this dough\ninto cannon balls will they bake nice?\" \"Cannon balls in my oven,\" said\nHetty, \"suppose they go on to bust, what den?\" \"Oh, they won't bust,\nHetty dear.\" So Hetty put the cannon balls to bake with the pan full of\ncookies and when they were done, she spread a nice white cloth on a\nlittle table near the window in the kitchen, bringing out the crabapple\njelly, which the children always considered a treat. Then she put a\nbouquet in the center of the table and a pitcher of creamy milk. This\nwith the cookies and some peaches made a delightful lunch. Amy\nunderstood why Hetty was particular to set the table so nicely and kept\ndancing 'round and talking nonsense.\n\nMamma and Aunt Lucy had gone out for the day and she wanted to keep Bo\nfrom noticing their absence. After enjoying the feast and feeding their\npets, their friend, Adele, came and took them out in her pretty pony\ncart. It was five in the afternoon when the children returned. As soon\nas Bolax entered the house, he began his usual refrain: \"Ma, dear.\" As\nhe received no answer, he suddenly remembered he had not seen his mother\nall day. \"Why Hetty,\" said he, \"is Mamma not at home?\" \"No, honey,\"\nsaid Hetty, \"she's been in town; she'll be home soon now, and she g'wan\nto give you a nice present when I tell her what a good boy you done\nbeen. Come now eat yon' supper, so you' Ma will find you in bed when she\ncomes home.\"\n\nBo and Amy sat at the little table where they had had lunch. Hetty gave\nthem a nice supper and allowed them each to have a doggie beside them,\nwith a plate to eat from.\n\nAfter supper they went upstairs to prepare for bed. Buz and Roy\nfollowed. Amy took Bo into the Oratory to say night prayer. Bo began\nvery piously \"Our Father,\" but just here Buz bit his foot. \"Stop that,\nBuz, don't you see I'm saying my prayers. Our Father, who art in Heaven.\nBuz won't behave.\" Bo called out laughing, at the same time. \"Hetty,\"\nsaid Amy, \"you had better come up here, Bo's just giggling instead of\nsaying his prayers.\" \"I comin' up; you dogs git out of dis here Oritey;\nit ain't no place for laughin'. Now you better don't be a mockin' of de\nLord, Bo. I tell you somethin' might come arter you some night.\" But Bo\ncouldn't stop, he was so full of merriment. \"Well, I was saying my\nprayers with a humble and contrite heart when Roy came and thumped me in\nthe back.\" \"Yes,\" replied Amy, \"and you just let him; you had better\nstop your nonsense.\" Hetty tried all her arts to get Bo to bed, at last\nshe said: \"Well, you always wasn't a religion child, anyway. I remember\none time when you was three years old, you' mother was a dressin' you up\nin a lovely coat and hat with white plume, she was buttoning of the coat\nand you kept wigglin', then she told you to try to be a good boy, else\nyou' angel wouldn't love you. You said: 'Where is my angel.' 'Right\nbehind you,' says you' Ma; then you pushed up against the wall and\nrubbed you back so hard. I was settin' dere and tried to make you stop.\nYour Ma, she say: 'What you doin' you bad boy,' and you answer\n'Squashing the angel!' You' Ma couldn't help smilin' and I jest fall\ndown on de floor with laughin,' We was so taken by surprise.\"\n\n\"Well, Hetty,\" said Amy, \"that's the reason Bolax is bad, because people\nlaugh at him.\" \"Oh, I wouldn't say that now,\" said Bo, \"I'm near six,\nand I do love my angel; the laughing is all gone now; I can say my\nprayers.\" So Bo said his prayers respectfully and went to bed.\n\nA little after midnight, he ran into his mother's room. \"Oh, Mamma,\ndear, did you hear it? Oh, it is awful, and I did say my prayers.\"\n\nOut in the entry Hetty was heard saying: \"For de Lord sake! Oh, Miss\nAllen, dere it is again.\"\n\nMrs. Allen and the whole household heard a most unearthly shriek, but\nimmediately remembered it was the new fire alarm. After quieting the\nlittle boy and making Hetty understand what it was, Mrs. Allen looked\nout of the window, and saw that a large house on the top of a high hill\nwas ablaze; as it was only a frame building it was soon destroyed, for\nthe firemen could not reach it.\n\nAfter the disturbance was over and all were going back to bed, Bo put\nhis arm around his mother's neck, and said: \"I guess I had better stay\nwith you Mamma, dear; you might get afraid again.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nA TALK ABOUT OUR BOYS.\n\n\nMrs. Carpenter, who was President of the Christian Mothers' Society,\ndelivered a most entertaining lecture on \"Our Boys.\" A subject in which\nevery mother is always deeply interested.\n\n\nOUR BOYS.\n\nIt is an acknowledged fact that many a boy who has had the advantage of\ngood training at home and at school, fails to avail himself of his\nopportunities and grows up careless in dress and language, and, while\nnot absolutely vicious yet, looking leniently upon much that his parents\nand friends regard as reprehensible.\n\nAmong the various causes that lead to such physical, mental and moral\nlaxity, none is more potent than companionship with dirty, idle or\nimmoral boys. Many a lad spends hours with comrades whom he despises, at\nfirst, then excuses, and finally associates with on terms of close\nintimacy.\n\nWe all desire that our sons should keep good company, and we cannot and\nshould not deprive them of outdoor companionship with boys of their own\nage. What we most desire is that they themselves should choose their\ncomrades among honest, studious, manly boys, and avoid the society of\nthe mean, idle and vicious; yet at the same time they should treat all\nwith the courtesy due from one human being to another.\n\nWe can scarcely understand the character of our boy's companions by his\nown description of them; since like the rest of humanity our boys regard\ntheir favorites with eyes that see only their good qualities, forgetting\nthe coarse language, the vulgar jest, the cruel trick, the truant\nplaying: \"He is such a jolly fellow, plays such a good game.\"\n\nAlthough we may notice occasionally that our boy is coarse in speech or\nmanifests an unusual spirit of rebellion at school regulations still we\ndo not often associate these effects with \"such a good fellow always\nready for fun.\" But if we occasionally saw this \"good fellow\" then\nindeed the cause would not be far to seek. Our boy himself would feel\nashamed of his acquaintance, if he saw him in the home circle; he would\nsuddenly discover that his friend was not ashamed that his hands were\ndirty, that he \"talked to mother\" with his hat on.\n\nThese boys of ours are apt to be very chivalrous about \"mother,\" and\nthen they learn not to care about companions of whom they are ashamed.\n\nI once heard a mother say to her son, \"Harry, I wonder at you to be seen\non the street with that Murray boy. Why he is dressed like a beggar.\"\n\nNow, I too, had seen Harry and the \"Murray boy,\" and while the boy's\nclothes were old, they were whole and clean too, and I knew him to be an\nupright manly lad, more so indeed than Harry was ever likely to be with\nsuch training.\n\nProvided a boy is truthful, clean and careful in his language we should\nnot let the pecuniary circumstances of his family enter into\nconsideration; for our desire is to build up a noble manhood in our\nboys, and how despicable is that man who esteems his friends according\nto the length of their purses. There is only one way of judging our\nboy's companions, and that is by knowing them ourselves. This we can do\nby encouraging him to invite his friends to visit him not always\nformally, but now and then, as it may happen. We can pleasantly welcome\nthem, but let us be careful not to entertain them too much, for there is\nnothing a boy hates more than to have a \"fuss\" made over him.\n\nAn occasional taffy pulling is not an expensive luxury and a little hot\nwater removes all traces from the kitchen, to which it should be\nlimited. Some time when it is convenient, let us tell our boy to invite\nsome of his friends to spend the evening, and use the best china and the\npreserves and cake he likes the best.\n\nDo not say, \"It is only those boys.\" Let him feel that his guests are\nwell treated, and he will be the more anxious to have friends worthy of\nthe treatment they receive.\n\nI think that the clownish behavior of boys arises from the only-a-boy\ntreatment they experience; feeling slighted they instinctively resent\nit, by being as disagreeable as possible.\n\nNor is it necessary that one's house should be turned into a barn for\nboys to carouse in. On the contrary, our boy should always tell mother\nwhen he wishes to invite a friend, or, if he knows that his friends are\ncoming; not as a rigid rule, but as a courtesy due a lady in her own\nhouse; no matter whether the home consists of one room or twenty, the\nmother is always the hostess, and she can train her son into a well-bred\nman, or allow him, even though well educated to grow up a boor.\n\nMany men owe their success in life to their observance of the minor\ncourtesies in which they were trained by a good mother. These habits and\nthat of correct speech should be insisted upon by every refined mother.\nThere is another, and to me the most important point in the education of\nour boys, I refer to their religious training. Merely sending them to a\nshort service on Sunday, will never impress boys with the respect they\nshould have for God, and if they are not taught love and reverence for\ntheir Heavenly Father, they will disregard the authority of their\nparents and in after life, defy the laws of the land.\n\nAbove all things see to your boy's religious training, see that he does\nnot associate with people who make flippant remarks about sacred things.\nGive a little time in the evening to conversations with your children.\nAs I speak, one little mother comes to my mind, she always made it a\nduty to sit with her boys and talk over the incidents of the day, she\ninquired what new ideas they had received, etc.; they laughed and\nchatted together, \"Ma dear\" had their entire confidence. This mother\nwarned her sons against vice, showing them the horrid pitfalls of sin.\n\nJudicious advice coming from a loving mother will keep boys from sins,\nthe memory of which even when repented of, would haunt them forever.\n\nAfter Mrs. Carpenter's address she introduced Mrs. Blondell, who gave\nher thoughts on the duties of mothers towards their children.\n\nWe often hear severe criticisms on the manners of young people of the\npresent day and contrast them unfavorably with the manners of a\ngeneration ago. No doubt much of this criticism is warranted. The great\nmass of young people of today are lacking in deference, courtesy and\nrespect. But the fathers and mothers who complain of these faults rarely\nquestion themselves if they are not wholly or in part to blame for the\nbad manners of their offspring.\n\nI have known parents who sit at table or in the home circle, and in the\npresence of their children freely criticise or comment on the conduct of\ntheir neighbors or friends, permitting their children to tell all they\nhave seen or heard in a neighbor's house.\n\nSuch parents must not be disappointed if those children grow up with the\nhabit of gossiping and commenting just as freely on themselves. Now\nthere is no one thing more destructive of good manners than the\ngossiping and tale-bearing habit.\n\nIf urbanity were persistently taught and practiced in the home there\nwould not be so much to learn, and especially to unlearn with regard to\nintercourse with the world at large.\n\nPeople would not then have two manners, one to use in public and one in\nprivate. There would be less self-consciousness and less affectation,\nfor these arise from trying to do a thing of which we are uncertain, to\nassume a manner which we have imperfectly acquired.\n\nSometimes one meets with children who seem to lack the idea of truth,\nthen it must be developed, and great exactness is demanded of the\nmother in every statement.\n\nIn describing a garden with five trees, say _five_, not five or six or\nseveral. Go to extremes in accuracy of detail, for the sake of giving\nthe child the habit of telling only the exact truth.\n\nIf a promise has been made to such a child there is more than ordinary\nnecessity for keeping it to the letter.\n\nSome time ago I heard of a gentleman who promised his little son that he\nshould be present at the building of a stone wall, while the boy was\nabsent the wall was built. Coming home he was greatly disappointed.\n\"Papa you promised I should see it.\" \"So I did my child.\" And the father\nordered the wall to be torn down and rebuilt. Being expostulated with\nregarding the expense and time which he could ill afford, he replied: \"I\nhad rather spend many times the amount than have my son feel that I\nwould be knowingly false to my word, or that it mattered little if a\npromise was broken.\"\n\nThough truth and faithfulness might have been taught and the wall\nremained, because all accidents of life are not under our control, no\none can doubt the impression made upon that boy's mind.\n\nA mother speaking to me about two of her children said that they tell\nher most wonderful stories of school life and play time. She hears them\nquietly and says: \"That is very interesting; now, how much did you see\nand hear, and how much do you think you saw and heard.\" They stop,\nthink, and sift out the actual from the imaginative, sometimes\ncorrecting each other. One day the little boy said: \"I really thought,\nMamma, it was all so, but I guess only this part was.\"\n\nMuch license is commonly allowed in order to tell a \"good story,\" and\nmany a child thus unconsciously gains a light conception of the value of\ntruth, or they think their elders are privileged to use prevarications.\nI will give an illustration of this.\n\nOne day a group of ladies seated on the porch of a hotel were\nentertaining each other, among them was one notorious for her habit of\nexaggeration. We were all listening to one of this lady's \"good stories\"\nwhen her eldest little girl, a child of seven, came towards us, leading\nher small sister of four. Going up to her mother the child said in a\nmost serious tone of voice: \"Mamma, Elsie told a lie. You said it was\nnaughty for little girls to tell lies; they must wait until they are big\nladies; musn't they?\"\n\nThe laugh that followed was joined in by the mother, who seemed quite\nunconscious of the reproof contained in the innocent speech of her\nlittle child.\n\nAnother point to which I would call your attention is showing\npartiality; sometimes severely reproving a fault in one child, which you\nwould pass over in a favorite. Children feel this keenly while childhood\nlasts, and sometimes resent it when they grow up. I have here a little\npiece which I am sure will appeal to you.\n\nThe lady who wrote it evidently understands child-nature.\n\n\nSOLILOQUY BY MISS ETHEL M. KELLY.\n\n    Now I lay me down to sleep--\n      Don't want to sleep; I want to think,\n    I didn't mean to spill that ink;\n      I only meant to softly creep\n    Under the desk and be a bear--\n      'Taint 'bout the spanking that I care.\n\n    'F she'd only let me 'splain an' tell\n      Just how it was an accident,\n    An' that I never truly meant\n      An' never saw it till it fell.\n    I feel a whole lot worse nor her;\n      I'm sorry; an' I said I were.\n\n    I s'pose if I'd just cried a lot,\n      An' choked all up like sister does,\n    An' acted sadder than I wuz,\n      An' sobbed about the \"naughty spot.\"\n    She'd said, \"He shan't be whipped, he shan't.\"\n      An kissed me--but, somehow I can't.\n\n    But I don't think it's fair a bit\n      That when she talks an' talks at you,\n    An' you wait patiently till she's through,\n      An' start to tell your side of it,\n    She says, \"Now that'll do my son;\n      I've heard enough, 'fore you've begun.\"\n\n    If I should die before I wake--\n      Maybe I ain't got any soul;\n    Maybe there's only just a hole\n      Where't ought to be--there's such an ache\n    Down there somewhere! She seemed to think\n      That I just loved to spill that ink.\n\nDear Christian mothers, permit me, a very, very old member of your\nsociety, to offer this advice. Be on the alert always to give good\nexample to your children. Remember you are teaching them spiritual\ntruths or errors from the day of their birth. You cannot help it, if\nyou would. Your daily conduct tells its own story influencing for or\nagainst your beliefs.\n\nIf you are a consistent Christian, your life before your child is\nteaching him to believe in the Christ whose example you follow. If you\nare not practicing what you profess no amount of teaching will bring\nyour children to respect your beliefs.\n\nLet us take for our model dear Mater Admirabilis, and as near as\npossible imitate that divine Mother, making for ourselves a charmed\nexistence by blotting out as far as possible the disagreeables of life;\nthey will come, but they will only grow larger when we remember them,\nand constant thought of acts of meanness makes us more familiar with\nthem. Obliterate every unworthy thought from your heart and soul, then\nyour children will retain only sweet memories of their mother.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE FIGHT.\n\n\n\"What's all the noise about down there?\" asked Aunt Lucy.\n\n\"Dem youngsters is fighten over de puppies, better come down here, Miss\nLucy.\"\n\nBo was screaming, Amy scolding, and Jess barking and whining. Aunt Lucy\nhurried down stairs to see what could cause such a commotion.\n\nWhen she made her appearance at the head of the cellar stairs Amy was\npulling at her brother, and Bo, doubled up, was holding one of the\npuppies in a tight embrace at the risk of ending its existence.\n\n\"Stop, immediately!\" commanded their aunt. \"Children, I am ashamed of\nyou.\"\n\n\"Well, that bad boy is tormenting the poor dog.\"\n\n\"Put the puppy down, Bo.\"\n\n\"Here, Aunty, you stoop down with it, Jess will jump in my face if I go\nnear her nest. I only wanted to love the little thing, and Jess would\nnot have made such a fuss if Amy didn't put her up to it.\"\n\n\"I have a good mind to deprive you both of your ride this afternoon as a\npunishment for your silly conduct. Go upstairs and let me hear no more\nquarreling.\"\n\nAfter Aunt Lucy and Amy had gone, Bo went into the kitchen to get\nHetty's sympathy, she was always willing to listen to her boy, although\nshe was provoked sometimes by his mischievous tricks.\n\n\"Hetty, dear, don't you think Amy is an antiquated monkey?\"\n\n\"Oh, honey, don't call sister names.\"\n\n\"Yes, I will; 'Monkey' is too good for her, I wish I knew of the\nhorriblest animal ever was, I'd call Amy after it.\"\n\n\"Now be a good boy, don't fight no more, and--\"\n\n\"Yes, I will fight; sister is so wicked; she's just a Mannypochia\ncobra.\"\n\n\"Oh, law! Massa Bo, that's a awful name. What kind of a animal is it?\"\n\n\"Well, it's something like a big snake, only fifty times bigger, and it\nhisses and cracks your bones and--\"\n\n\"What you gwan do when you go to confession; you got to tell the names\nyou call, and you ain't gwan to 'member dat big word.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'll remember; I'll just say 'Father, my sister was so dreadful,\nshe most broke my bones, so I called her the name of a snake that breaks\nbones.'\"\n\nHetty laughed, and asked Bo if he was \"most ready for his first\nconfessin,\" telling him he \"better don't have too many bad things to\ntell on other people; Father gwan to tell you: 'Say child you come to\ntell you' own sins; I don't want to hear what you' sister done did.'\"\n\n\"But,\" insisted Bo, \"the priest will listen when I tell him how Amy\nfights over the puppies.\"\n\n\"Better don't, 'cause if you do, Father gwan give you two penances, one\nfor your sins, and another for Amy's sins.\"\n\n\nBOLAX'S FIRST CONFESSION.\n\nBolax having passed his ninth birthday, his mother thought it time he\nshould make his first confession. Although well instructed and prepared\nfor the great event, he had a dread of going to confession.\n\nIt was September 8th, the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin; Mrs. Allen\ncalled her boy and told him she had decided on taking him to see a\nJesuit priest. Bolax was delighted with the trip to town, but when he\ngot near the church he wanted to run away.\n\n\"Oh Mamma, dear,\" cried he, \"I'll go some other time.\"\n\nNotwithstanding his resistance, his mother compelled him to enter the\nchurch. As soon as the child caught sight of the imposing interior, with\nits Altars, statues and pictures, he seemed suddenly overcome with awe,\nhis whole manner changed, and dropping on his knees, he whispered:\n\n\"Oh, Mamma, this is a very holy place! Oh, I can feel God right near\nme!\"\n\nOne of the Fathers came down the aisle and entered the confessional;\nBolax followed him without any compulsion, and seemed thoroughly\nimpressed with the sanctity of the act he was about to perform.\n\nThere happened to be no other penitents, so the good Father came out of\nthe box and spoke to the boy.\n\n\"So this is your first confession,\" said he. \"Well, my child, God bless\nyou, and keep your soul ever as pure as it is today.\"\n\nThen turning to the mother, he spoke about the boy, saying:\n\n\"I am greatly interested in my little penitent, and I want him to write\nto me every two weeks, giving me a report of his conduct.\"\n\nBolax promised to write.\n\nAfter thanking the priest for his kind interest, and helping her boy\nwith his Thanksgiving, Mrs. Allen left the church. Bolax skipped down\nthe steps, and I fear the good people who were at their devotions, must\nhave been very much startled at the loud \"Cock-a-doodel-do\" given by Bo,\nas he reached the pavement.\n\n\"For goodness sake stop!\" cried his mother. \"Can't you behave?\"\n\n\"No, Mamma; I'm too happy. I feel as if I could fly. Confession isn't a\nbit hard; I'd like to go every day.\"\n\nBOLAX'S FIRST LETTER.\n\n_Dear Rev. Father_:\n\nEver since I went to confession, everybody says I'm worse.\n\nI let my dog out of the cellar, and he most chewed up my sister's dog.\nRoy, is my dog's name; Trix, is my sister's dog. Roy caught on to Trix,\nand such howling and yelping never was heard. Sister was so afraid, she\nhid inside the wardrobe, and every minute she would put out her head and\nyell:\n\n\"Oh, my poor Trix!\"\n\nMamma and the cook tried to separate the dogs. Mamma caught hold of\nRoy's tail, and Hetty caught on to Trix's tail, and both pulled, but\nstill the dogs wouldn't stop fighting. Then I got a stick to whack them,\nand I broke Mamma's glasses by accident.\n\nAt last Hetty threw a bucket of water on them; that stopped the fight.\nHetty says she's 'done flustered to death.' Sister says I'm the\nawfulest boy in the world.\n\nI haven't done anything bad today, yet.\n\n  Your little friend,\n\n       BOLAX.\n\nTHE REV. FATHER'S ANSWER.\n\n  ST. FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.\n\n  _Dear Little Friend_:\n\nEven though everyone should say that you have been \"worse\" than you had\nbeen before making your confession, I know that our Lord will excuse you\nbecause you acknowledge your faults.\n\nYou see, all expected you would be better after confession, and they are\nmuch disappointed, because they have not yet seen any improvement.\n\nWhat a scrape you got into, by letting your dog out of the cellar, and\nhow cruel it was to have poor Trix \"chewed up.\" You were shocked, I am\nsure, when you found you had hit your mother. Now, how did all this come\nabout? Just because you did not ask permission to let your dog out of\nthe cellar. If you had acted under obedience, you would have avoided all\nthe trouble. Now, this is the lesson to take from your fault.\n\nDo not act without permission, and always obey promptly and cheerfully,\nthen you will be happy; your parents will be happy and Our Dear Lord\nwill bless you.\n\nHoping to see you soon, my dear little boy, I am your friend in Christ,\n\n       ALOYSIUS ROCOFORT, S. J.\n\n\nSECOND LETTER.\n\n  _Dear Rev. Father_:\n\nSince my third confession, everyone says I am showing improvement. Papa\nsays it is your letters that make me good. Mamma says it is the grace of\nGod given through confession.\n\nHetty says, \"I do believe dat boy done got religion for sure.\"\n\nEverybody believes in my conversion, excepting Sister Amy; she says the\nbadness couldn't go so sudden; it is still there. Trix's ear is sore\nyet; that is the reason she is cross.\n\nIndeed, Father, I feel good. I obey better; I have only to be called\nthree times in the morning, and I don't forget things when I am sent on\nerrands, and I even study without growling.\n\nDear Father, would you like a pair of white rats? They are lovely pets\nand run all over me; they eat corn off the top of my head and nibble my\nears. If you want them, I will put them in a wire cage and carry them\ninto town the next time I go to see you.\n\n  Your loving little friend,\n\n       BOLAX ALLEN.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  ST. FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.\n\n  _My Dear Little Friend_:\n\nHow rejoiced I am to learn by your last report that you are giving\nsatisfaction to Mamma and Papa, and learning to obey; the greatest of\nall virtues \"obedience,\" preserves us from falling into other sins.\n\nSister will come round soon, just let her see you are in earnest, and\nsurprise her by persevering in your good resolutions.\n\nI thank you for the kind offer to give me your pets, but I fear the good\nbrother who has charge of my room would object to rats--white or\nblack--so I must decline your present with many thanks, dear child.\n\nCome to see me next Wednesday, I will be home from 2 to 6 P. M.\n\n  God bless you,\n\n       ALOYSIUS ROCOFORT, S. J.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  ST FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.\n\n  _Dear Little Friend_:\n\nWhat a pity I was not at home when you called. I wished to see you to\nfind out how you had been doing since I last met you. I hope you went to\nconfession to one of the other priests that day.\n\nAfter Holy Communion, which you are too young to receive as yet, there\nis no better means to aid you in doing right than a complete and humble\ndeclaration of all that you have done amiss.\n\nIt is a good thing to say your prayers in the morning, even though you\nhave to be reminded by your mother. I wish you had interest enough\nyourself to say them without being reminded.\n\n  Always your friend,\n\n       A. ROCOFORT, S. J.\n\n\nA VERY GREAT LOSS.\n\n\"Aunt Lucy,\" said Bolax one day. \"I had a very important paper, and I\ncannot find it. I took such pains to write it because it was to go to\nFather Rocofort. Did you see it? You would know it was important because\nit was written without blots.\"\n\n\"Indeed, child, I did not see it, ask Hetty; she cleaned your room this\nmorning.\"\n\n\"Hetty, Hetty,\" called Bo, \"did you see a long narrow strip of paper\nabout a yard long, with writing on it?\"\n\n\"Yes, I done see a paper like dat; it was on the floor of you' room when\nI go clean it, and the puppy was a chewing of it. I done took it and put\nit under a book on your desk.\"\n\n\"Oh Hetty, why, oh, why did you let puppy chew up my paper? It had my\nsins on it.\"\n\n\"For de Lawd sake. Bolax! you' sins! Den I guess de poor little dog done\npizened by dis time. I ain't seed him since he et up dem sins, three\nhours ago. I guess I'll find him lying dead somewheres.\"\n\n\"Hetty, you stop making fun of me; I'm in real earnest. Sins are things\npeople only tell to the priest, or to their mothers, and I don't want\nmine to be blowing round for every one to see them.\"\n\nAfter a great search, the paper was found and Bo inclosed it in a letter\nready to send Father Rocofort. When his mother read the contents, she\nexplained that he could not make a confession in that manner.\n\n\"Confession must be made on bended knees.\"\n\n\"Well, then Ma, dear, I can't go to town this week, as I have such a\ncold. I'm so sorry; Father will think I'm getting bad again.\"\n\n  ST. FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.\n\n  _Dear Little Friend:_\n\nYour letter of last week has not come to hand, so without waiting for\nit, I feel I ought to tell you the second thought that came to my mind\nwhen I read the letter which did reach me.\n\nYou may remember you said these words: \"I did not disobey this week,\nbecause I was sick.\"\n\nNow my thought was just this: From what this boy says it would appear\nthat if he were in good health, he would have disobeyed. As disobedience\nis a sin; a great evil because displeasing to God. What a blessing it is\nto be sick, if one is thereby prevented from doing anything that is\noffensive to God.\n\nYou are perhaps too young to know that all things that come from God are\ngood in themselves, since God, who sends them, is good.\n\nDid you ever think that sickness, poverty, hunger, cold, sorrow and\nsuffering could be good? Perhaps not. It is hard for a small boy to see\nthat what he does not like, can be good. But if God likes a thing, it\nmust be good, and if God dislikes a thing, it must be bad.\n\nPlease try to understand all this, and you will become a good boy and a\ngood man.\n\n  Your friend in Christ,\n\n       ALOYSIUS ROCOFORT, S. J.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  September 1st.\n\n  _Dear Rev. Father_:\n\nI wish you would be so kind as to pray I may be sent to a Catholic\nschool, there is none in our town for boys, but maybe I could get to St.\nThomas' College, if they would only take me.\n\nMamma and Papa thank you so much for writing to me. Indeed it is kind,\nand it must take up your time. I shall always keep your letters; I love\nthem.\n\nPapa says it is wonderful that the President of a college would bother\nwriting to a little boy.\n\n  Your loving little friend,\n\n       B. ALLEN.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  ST. FRANCIS XAVIER COLLEGE.\n\n  _My Dear Little Friend_:\n\nHaving been very busy during the week, I have not been able to make an\nearlier reply to your little biography of the week. One or two thoughts\nthat came to my mind as I read your words is, I think, worth putting on\npaper.\n\nYou seemed to think it remarkable that a man of my age, education and\nbusy life should trouble himself about a little boy. Now I thought you a\nstrange little boy for that, and for this reason. You are a Christian,\nbelieving and knowing that Christ died for you; gave His heart's blood\nfor your eternal happiness.\n\nKnowing this as I do, and meditating on the life and work of Christ, and\nstriving so hard to imitate him; do you think it strange that I should\ntake an interest in you, when you allow me? It would be indeed strange\nif I did not wish to see you grow up a good docile, obedient, kind and\nhigh-principled boy, and a brave, true, upright, high-souled man, and do\nall in my power, as far as you will allow to bring about such a result.\n\nGod wants that, your parents hope it; you yourself would like it, if you\ncould get it by wishing, or if it did not cost you any trouble. But it\ndoes cost trouble, though it is worth a thousand troubles.\n\n  Your friend in Christ,\n\n       ALOYSIUS ROCOFORT, S. J.\n\nP. S.--I will indeed pray that you may be admitted into St. Thomas',\nalthough in your case, with such a mother to guide you, the public\nschool might be tolerated.\n\n\nBOLAX DESERVES A WHIPPING.\n\n\"Another unsatisfactory report,\" exclaimed Papa Allen, as he held an\nopen letter in his hand. \"This is the fourth since the opening of school\nin September, and now it is only the first Week of October. Spelling,\n30; Arithmetic, 20. Professor too, sends complaints of your music\nlesson; then you have neglected your rabbits.\"\n\nAt this Bo jumped up and ran out to the rabbit-hutch. Yelling with all\nhis might for Hetty: \"Oh, my rabbits; my rabbits are gone.\"\n\n\"When did you feed them last,\" asked his father, who was looking out of\na window. Bo thought a moment, then remembered he had not seen them for\nseveral days.\n\n\"But where have they gone, Hetty dear?\"\n\n\"Done turned into air; what you spect dey gwan do when dey has nothing\nto eat but air.\"\n\nThen Hetty laughed, and Bo went back to the dining room.\n\n\"Excuse me for leaving you, Papa, I am so worried. Indeed, indeed, I\ndidn't mean to forget my pets.\"\n\n\"My son, we allow you to have pets to teach you the lesson of\nresponsibility, which means to keep in mind any duty you have to\nperform. You do not mean to be cruel, but you are. I have saved many of\nyour pets from hunger and thirst; now I shall do so no longer, neither\nshall the servants. Your rabbits have been given to Flossy Day, who will\nalways attend to them, because she is a thoughtful, kind little girl.\n\n\"On all points you are at fault--lessons, music and pets; all alike\nforgotten, if there is no improvement, you will be punished for your\ndelinquencies.\"\n\nUnfortunately at the end of the next week, the report was worse than\never, and Papa was shocked and expressed himself in very severe\nlanguage. Bolax showed an unusual spirit of insubordination and temper\non being reproved, and his father whipped him. The boy was heart-broken;\nit was the first time a stroke had been laid upon him in his life. His\nmother did not approve of corporal punishment, but, of course, would not\ninterfere in what her husband thought to be his duty.\n\nPoor Bo felt degraded and went to hide. His mother knocked at his\nbedroom door, but he would not open it.\n\n\"No one loves me any more!\" sobbed the poor child. \"If Aunt Lucy had\nbeen home I would not have been whipped.\"\n\nAmy went into the room and putting her arms around her brother's neck,\ntold him she would give him her pony \"Ben Bolt,\" for his very own. \"Oh,\nSister, I thank you, but nothing can take the pain out of my heart.\"\n\n\"I know darling, but Papa is just as pained as you. He said just now, he\nhad rather cut off his hand than hurt you, but you know you would not\nlisten to anything and kept going wild. I tell you what I will do the\nnext time you deserve a whipping; I will stand and take it for you.\" \"I\nwouldn't let you, dear, sweet Sister; no indeed, but I'll never deserve\none again.\"\n\n\"Good night and here's Ma dear, to kiss you.\"\n\nIn the morning Hetty went up to Bo's room to call him for breakfast; his\nmother had let him sleep late because she was attending to her husband,\nwho had to take an early train for New York.\n\n\"Come down here honey,\" Hetty called again, \"Come see the nice fish I'se\ngot for you.\" Bo went into the dining room and begged the kind creature\nto sit with him. \"You're my best friend, Hetty, dear.\" \"Indeed, I'se\nyour friend. Eat up de fish; it's good, and don't bother lookin' at it.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm just dissecting it.\" \"What's dat?\" \"Seeing what's inside of it.\nHetty, dear, do you know fishes have spinal cords?\" \"Cords! land sakes!\nwhere dey done keep dem?\"\n\n\"Oh, up their backs, of course. Here, see this bone, I break it and here\nis a string that makes the fish move.\" \"Oh, Massa Bo, where you done\nlearn all dis?\"\n\n\"I heard the A class saying their physiology, and I asked Mamma, and she\nsaid we had just such a cord in our backbone.\" Here Mamma came into the\nroom. \"Law bless us, Miss Allen dat chile ought never be whipped for\nlearnin'. He knows lots more now than some men.\"\n\nMrs. Allen sat down and explained to the children the different parts of\nthe fish.\n\nThis led to an interesting talk. Amy asked if shellfish were stupid,\nbecause people often say: \"As dumb as a clam.\"\n\n\"Not all dear, there is the beautiful Nautilus; the little mariner and\nreally our first navigator.\"\n\nThen the mother told of the sea nettle, the razorfish, the cuttlefish,\nthat throws a black fluid out of its body, which darkens the water, and\nwhen pursued by an enemy escapes by this means. It is a very useful\nfish; long ago the Romans used that black fluid for ink.\n\nBo was so interested, he forgot his trouble, and no one noticed it was\npast school time.\n\n\"I'se just glad,\" said Hetty; \"you children come play dat funny song\nabout de Hoo Doo man, and say dat piece what tells what de school bell\ntalks when it rings.\"\n\n\"Really my son, I am sorry you missed school this morning. It will put\nanother bad point on your next report.\" \"Ma, dear, I'm tired of that old\nschool; it's a girls' school, anyhow. I'm the only Catholic there, and\nevery now and then some one says something ugly about my religion. Of\ncourse, I have to fight boys that do it, but I must bear it when girls\ntell me I adore idols. If you send me to St. Thomas' I'll study hard.\"\n\n\nWHAT THE SCHOOL BELL SAYS.\n\n    It is wonderful what unlike things\n    The school bell says to boys when it rings.\n    For instance the sluggard who drags along\n    On his way to school, hears this sort of song:\n\n                Oh, suz hum!\n                Why did I come?\n                Study 'till four--\n                Books are a bore!\n                Oh, how I wish\n                I could run off and fish!\n                See! there's the brook\n                Here's line and hook.\n                Hurry up--eh?\n                What's that you say?\n                Oh--hum--ho!\n                Suppose I must go,\n                Study 'till four,\n                Books are a bore.\n\n    Then the boy who loves to be faithful and true,\n    Who does what his parents think best he should do,\n    Comes bravely along with satchel and book,\n    The wind in his whistle, the sun in his look.\n    And these are the thoughts that well up like a song,\n    As he hears the old bell with its faithful ding dong:\n\n                Cling, clang, cling--\n                I'm so glad I could sing!\n                Heaven so blue,\n                Duty to do!\n                Birds in the air,\n                Everything fair,\n                Even a boy\n                Finds study a joy!\n                When my work is done\n                I'm ready for fun,\n                Keener my play\n                For tasks of the day,\n                Cling clang, cling.\n                I' so glad I can sing.\n\n    These are the songs which the two boys heard,\n    When the school bell was singing word for word.\n    Which do you think was the truer song?\n    Which do you hear as you're trudging along?\n    Don't be a laggard--far better I say!\n    To work while you work, and play when you play.\n\n                                       --_By J. Bucham_.\n\n\"Why so serious Amy,\" said her mother; \"you look as if you were deeply\nreflecting.\"\n\nI have just been thinking of those \"wonders of the sea\" you tell about.\n\n\"Ma, dear, how much you do know; you can tell something of every bird\nand beast and insect. I wonder if I ever shall know as much?\"\n\n\"My child, you know much more of this delightful kind of study than I\ndid at your age. Until you were four years old my information on such\nsubjects was very limited.\"\n\n\"And why did you study, mother, dear?\"\n\n\"I had a strong incentive; I studied because I loved you.\"\n\nBolax pressed close to his mother's side. \"Oh, Ma, dear! I will study\ntoo because I love you.\"\n\nWhen Mr. Allen returned in the evening, Bo went to the gate to meet him,\nand threw his arms around his father's neck, asking to be forgiven and\npromising to be a good boy in the future. Mr. Allen clasped the dear\nchild to his heart wondering if he had made a mistake in his manner of\nchastising a boy with such a loving disposition.\n\nThat night the good mother told of Bo's desire to change schools.\n\n\"That's just what I intended proposing; I had a conversation with old\nMathews, who has brought up seven sons. He thinks from what I told him\nof our son, a change would be just what he requires at present.\"\n\nA few days after this, Mrs. Allen took Bo up to the College and begged\nthe President to admit him.\n\n\"He is entirely below the age, Madame,\" remarked the President, \"we have\nno pupils under twelve years of age;\" however, he allowed himself to be\npersuaded and acceded to the lady's request on condition that the boy\nshould have a special tutor, which would cost an extra fee.\n\nTo this Mrs. Allen gladly agreed, as the child wanted three months of\nbeing ten years old and a private teacher was just what he needed.\n\nBo was delighted to go up to St. Thomas', especially as it meant daily\nrides on the train.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nTHE COAL MAN.\n\n\nWhistling and with a roll of music under his arm, Bolax turned out of\nhis way to go the woods. \"It's Saturday,\" thought he, \"and Professor was\npleased with my lesson, so I'll just take a holiday.\" As he was turning\noff the bridge he heard some one say: \"Well, young man, where are you\nbound for?\" Looking up he saw Mr. O'Donnel, the coal man. \"Where are you\ntaking such a big load?\" said Bolax. \"Oh, about three miles out on the\nWhite Road.\" \"That's the most beautiful road in the country; please let\nme go with you.\"\n\n\"You seem to know a great deal about roads.\" \"Oh, yes; I often take long\nrambles with Papa when he is at home; he is so fond of wild flowers. So\nis Mamma; she calls the woods 'God's own garden,' and while there is a\nwild flower to be had, from the arbutus and hepatica in early Spring to\nthe golden rod in the autumn, we gather them for our little Chapel. My\nPapa knows the name of every flower and shrub and tree that grows in the\nUnited States, and never tires telling me about them.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Mr. O'Donnel, \"I'll let you come along with me if you can\nclimb up; you're a mighty knowing sort of little chap, and I like to\nhear you talk.\"\n\nThe day was an ideal one. A clear sky, a bright October sun and a\npleasant breeze all combined to make Bolax enjoy his drive, although one\nwould suppose he felt anything but comfortable perched on the hard seat\nof a coal cart.\n\nThe road stretched out for nearly a mile, white as its name indicated,\nand as well cared for as if it were the driveway into a gentleman's\nprivate demesne. On each side, it was bordered by immense sycamore\ntrees; their beautiful branches meeting overhead, and their smooth\nshining trunk resembling pillars in the aisle of some grand Cathedral.\n\n\"This,\" said Mr. O'Donnel, \"reminds me of roads I saw in the North of\nFrance, only there you would be sure to see an altar or a cross erected\nby the pious people, many a time I saw men, women and children kneeling\nbefore these shrines.\" \"Are you a Catholic?\" asked Bolax. \"Indeed, and I\nam, thank God. Are you?\" said Mr. O'Donnel. \"Of course, I am,\" answered\nBolax, with a rising inflection as though he felt injured at anyone\nquestioning his religious belief. \"Can't you see in my face I'm a\nCatholic; you ought to hear me stand up for my religion. I knocked the\nstuffing out of Reddy Smith last week for saying the priest walked\npigeon-toed.\" \"Ha! Ha!\" laughed Mr. O'Donnel, \"more power to you, my\nlittle man, always stand up for your faith and respect the priests;\nthere's nothing like keeping faithful to your religion; it will be a\ngreat comfort to you all through life. I remember what a comfort it was\nto me when I came near dying on the battlefield in South Africa.\" \"Oh!\"\nexclaimed Bolax \"you don't mean to say you were in Africa?\"\n\n\"Did you fight the Boers? I've heard so much about them, and Mamma and\nPapa took sides with them, and we all felt so sorry for the poor\npeople.\"\n\n\"And so did I and every Irish soldier; in fact, I deserted the English\nranks, and with many others tried to help the brave Boers. They are good\npeople. I could tell you stories that would fill a book about them, and\nthey are religious according to what they know of religion. After the\ndisaster at Colesburg, the Boers helped to bury the British dead; they\nprayed and sang hymns over the graves, and some of the leaders made\nimpressive speeches, expressing their horror of the war, regretting the\nlosses on both sides, and making supplication to the Heavenly Father\nthat the war would soon end. Oh, it is fine Catholics they would make,\nbut strange to say, I never heard of a Catholic missionary being among\nthem.\"\n\n\"When I'm a man,\" said Bolax, striking his knees to emphasize his words,\n\"I'll be a priest and go among those good people and teach them the true\nfaith.\" \"God bless your innocent heart. I wonder if you'll remember your\nride with the coal man when you are a priest; your Ma may scold when she\nknows of it.\"\n\n\"My mother teaches me to respect all respectable people, and I am sure\nyou are very respectable, because you are a good Catholic.\"\n\n\"Thank you for an out and out little gentleman,\" said Mr. O'Donnel, \"and\nGod prosper you and your good mother. Here we are at our journey's end;\nsuppose you get down at the gate, my little man, and run up to the house\nand ask to have the cellar window opened for me; it will save time. Here\nis the ticket; you might get it signed. This is Carpenter Mansion.\"\n\nBolax ran off glad to oblige his friend and show his appreciation of the\nride.\n\nIt happened that Miss Devine had called for Amy, after Bolax left the\nhouse that morning and they were just now paying a visit to this family.\nAmy had never seen the beautiful place, and was delighted to become\nacquainted with the young ladies, and one little girl of her own age.\nWhile they were entertaining their company the maid called Mrs.\nCarpenter to say the key of the coal cellar was not to be found. Going\ninto the kitchen, the lady saw a handsome little boy with frowsy golden\ncurls encircling his head like a wreath and a very smutty face, who, hat\nin hand presented the ticket to be signed and asked to have the cellar\nwindow opened; after saying this the boy bowed. Mrs. Carpenter was quite\nastonished at such gentlemanly manners, and smiling and patting the boy\non the head she asked his name. \"Bolax,\" said he, with another bow.\n\"What an odd name,\" said Mrs. Carpenter, and going to the door, she saw\nthat the coal-man was of respectable appearance, and apparently above\nhis present occupation. Thinking to please him, she complimented him on\nthe good manners of his little boy. \"Yes, ma'am,\" said Mr. O'Donnel, \"he\nis a good sort of little chap, every one likes him.\" Miss Nellie, one of\nthe young ladies, came into the kitchen to look after the caramels,\nwhich were cooling on the window sill. Bolax stood at the door; Miss\nNellie offered him some candy, but he excused himself, saying: \"Thank\nyou; I like caramels, but my hands are not fit to eat with.\" \"Oh,\nindeed; well since you are such a polite little boy, I want you to have\nsome candy.\"\n\nEllen gave him a towel and soap and water. Bolax gladly made himself\nclean so as to enjoy the caramels. Miss Nellie went back to the parlor\nand gave a description of the coal-man's son, with such extraordinary\ngood manners; Sam and Charlie, her brothers rushed out to get a look at\nthe little chap and have some fun with him.\n\nAs soon as they sighted Bolax with his face half washed, his mouth all\nsticky; they laughed and made his acquaintance immediately. \"Fine candy?\nisn't it,\" said Sam. \"You bet,\" said Bo, \"haven't had any for a good\nwhile, 'cause I wouldn't practice.\" Miss Devine heard Bo's voice, and\nlistening for a moment said, \"Let me see that boy.\" On going to the\nkitchen door she made an exclamation which brought all the ladies on the\nscene. Then she laughed heartily, all caught the infection of her mirth,\nalthough they did not exactly understand why she was so amused. Amy,\nhowever, soon enlightened them, when, with a severe frown, she\nreproached Bolax for his appearance.\n\n\"Why, who is he?\" asked Mrs. Carpenter. \"Oh,\" said Miss Devine still\nlaughing, \"he is my little friend Bolax, Amy's brother. Don't be angry,\nAmy.\" \"I can't help being angry! It is too disgraceful; just look at his\nclothes, and the smear on his face.\"\n\nBolax looked crest-fallen and took out his pocket handkerchief to wipe\noff the smear, but only succeeded in adding two more black streaks, for,\nwithout his perceiving it, the handkerchief was filled with coal dust.\n\nSam and Charley while bursting with laughter tried to console the boy,\ninviting him to look at their Pony. Bo forgot his sister's displeasure\nwhile with the boys, and began to talk about his pets, his school, etc.\n\n\"Where do you to go school?\" asked Charlie. \"I have just been up at St.\nThomas' for two weeks; they didn't want to take me because I'm not old\nenough, but Mamma begged the President, so he admitted me.\"\n\n\"Do you like the fellows up there?\" said Sam.\n\n\"Yes, pretty well, but my Mamma was mistaken when she said they were all\ngentlemen; they don't bow and take off their hats when a priest speaks\nto them. And yesterday Father Clement was playing marbles 'for keeps'\nwith some boys, and he picked up an agate, and what do you think, one of\nthe boys snatched it and caught hold of Father Clement's arm, and he\nwasn't struck dead!\" \"Struck dead!\" exclaimed Sam. \"What do you mean?\"\n\"Why my Mamma told me a priest was more holy than the 'Ark of the\nCovenant,' and once long ago, two men were struck dead just for putting\ntheir hands on the Ark. So I thought for sure, a boy that snatched a\nmarble from a holy priest ought to be struck dead, but he wasn't.\" Sam\nand Charlie were inclined to laugh at this story, but restrained\nthemselves, on seeing the awed expression on the little boy's face,\nshowing that he innocently believed disrespect towards a priest should\nbe punished with death.\n\n\"Well,\" said Sam, assuming a serious air, \"perhaps our Lord forgave the\nboy this time, that in future he may learn to be more respectful.\"\n\n\"The lawn of the College,\" continued Bolax \"is kept so smooth and green;\nthey have signs all around, 'Keep off the Grass,' but the boys pay no\nattention and actually walk on the nice lawn, when the poor Brothers\nhave such work to keep it nice. I went behind a big fellow that was on\nthe grass and I pushed him off, and asked him if he didn't see the\nsign.\" \"What did he say to you?\" laughed the boys. \"Oh, he called me a\nfusty kid, and said, 'I'd get my eye teeth cut after awhile, if I stayed\nlong enough at College.' But, Ma says I cut my eye teeth when I was two\nyears old.\" \"Is that so? Let me see,\" said Sam, opening Bo's mouth.\n\"Yes, I really believe you have.\"\n\n\"Are the priests kind to you?\"\n\n\"You bet they are. Why there's one, oh, he is so beautiful, but the poor\ndear is lame. He stays in his room most of the time. Day before\nyesterday he asked me to come up to see him, and he showed me pictures,\nand told me a story of a soldier--and, oh, I just know he is an angel,\nbecause he has a closet full of guns.\"\n\nSuch a reason for being considered an angel struck the boys as so funny,\nthat they laughed outright. Sam patted the little fellow on the head,\nand gave him a boy's greatest compliment: \"You certainly are a jolly\ngood fellow, Bolax.\"\n\nBy this time the coal had been deposited in the cellar, so Bolax wanted\nto go away. \"Oh, come in,\" said Sam, \"and say Good-bye, but first let me\nwipe your face; there is just a speck of black on the end of your nose.\"\nBo was very thankful to be made somewhat presentable and entered the\nparlor, taking leave of the ladies in a most dignified manner, which\nill-assorted with his begrimed appearance.\n\n\"You're not going to ride home on the coal cart?\" said Miss Devine.\n\n\"I'm not fit to get into your carriage,\" said Bo.\n\n\"Never mind, come with me; we'll excuse you this time.\"\n\n\"But I must say 'good-bye' to Mr. O'Donnel, and get my roll of music; it\nis on the seat of the cart and might get lost.\" Amy was ready to cry at\nBo's escapade, but the young ladies and their brothers enjoyed the joke\nimmensely. As the carriage drove away the boys called out: \"Come again\nlittle coal-man; you're a regular brick.\"\n\nBolax was delighted to hear this and turning to Amy, said: \"Now, Miss\nStuck-Up, the Carpenters like me even if I do ride with the coal man,\nand I know Mamma will say it don't matter if my clothes are dirty, so I\nkeep my soul clean.\" \"My darling little brother,\" said Amy, throwing her\narms around Bo's neck, \"forgive me if I have hurt your feelings. Your\nfamily knows how clean your soul is, but strangers only judge by outward\nappearances.\" \"Dear Amy,\" said Miss Devine, \"don't take things so to\nheart.\" Then in a lower voice, \"for my part, I would not give our little\nflutterbudget, with his innocent mischief, for all the daintily-dressed\nboys in the country.\"\n\nWhen the carriage stopped at their gate, the children bid \"au revoir\" to\nMiss Devine; then she recommended Amy not to say much about Bo's\nadventure.\n\nAunt Lucy was standing on the porch. Bo did not wait to be questioned,\nbut began immediately to give an account of his day, for he had been\naway since luncheon. \"Oh, Aunt Lucy, Mr. O'Donnel is such a kind man!\nhe has a mouth like a frog, and I always observe that men with mouths\nlike frogs are kind to children.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said Aunt Lucy laughing, \"I never noticed that. I have no\ndoubt your friend, Mr. O'Donnel meant kindly in allowing you to ride\nwith him, but he did not think of the danger there was for a stumpy\nlittle fellow, with short legs, perched so high. If the cart had lurched\nyou might have fallen under the horses' feet and been killed. So dear\nchild, never try that again.\"\n\n\"Well, Aunty, I won't, but may I talk to Mr. O'Donnel? his heart would\nbe hurt if I passed him without speaking.\" \"Of course, dear; you may\nspeak to the good man. Never willfully hurt the feelings of anyone.\"\n\nJanuary 15, winter began in \"dead earnest,\" as the boys say, although no\none expected a blizzard, but by 2 P.M. the roads were impassable.\n\nThe wind blew a terrible gale--no one could venture out, and the four\nday scholars were obliged to stay at the College all night.\n\nThe President telephoned to Mrs. Allen, not to worry; that Bo should be\nwell cared for, and could remain with him until the roads were cleared,\nif it took a week. Mrs. Allen thanked the good priest and hoped her boy\nwould give no trouble.\n\nThe novelty of going to bed in a dormitory pleased Bolax, and the\nPrefect in charge gave him a night robe; then tucked him in bed as\ndeftly as if he had been a woman, for the good man had a tender spot in\nhis heart for all children.\n\nEverything being quiet--the gas was lowered and the Prefect retired for\nthe night. Suddenly Bolax gave a scream, \"two rats! Two rats, two rats!\"\ncried he. In a second of time the whole dormitory was astir.\n\nThe Prefect hearing the commotion rushed upstairs and was greeted with:\n\"Rats! Mr. Royal, Rats!\" There were sixteen boys in the room; so you can\nimagine how such an unusual chorus sounded.\n\n\"Rats!\" said Mr. Royal; \"where did they come from?\"\n\n\"There were two in a large trap in the lavatory,\" said Harry Dunn, \"but\nhow did they escape?\" \"Did any of you touch that trap?\" asked the\nPrefect.\n\n\"Yes, sir;\" answered Bo, \"I did. I felt sorry for the poor things; I\nwas just looking at them when the door of the trap opened somehow, and\nout they jumped, one struck my face as I leaned over.\"\n\n\"My dear boy,\" said Mr. Royal, \"you ought not to have gone near the\ntrap, suppose that rat had bitten you.\"\n\n\"Well now, all that is to be done is to catch them.\" A dozen voices\nexpressed their owners' willingness to go on the hunt, but Mr. Royal\npreferred calling up one of the men.\n\nIn a few minutes, Alex, the gardener, came into the dormitory with\n\"Happy Hooligan\" and \"Vixen,\" two Scotch terriers. All the doors were\nshut, and the hunt began; the rats did not keep together, but ran in\ndifferent directions. As Alex would plunge under a bed, broom in hand,\nsome one would scream out: \"Oh, here he is, up at this end.\"\n\nThe boys calling to the dogs, set them wild, so they did not know which\nway to run. Such laughter! It appeared to be great fun for the\nyoungsters, just because it was silence hour.\n\nAt last the beasts were killed, and order was once more restored. Mr.\nRoyal requested strict silence.\n\n\"I won't stay to watch you; I know you will all obey, so I trust to your\nhonor.\" And all did obey, for they loved and respected Mr. Royal, who\nalways appealed to their honor.\n\nThe next morning the whole college heard of Bo's rats, and had a good\nlaugh at the description of the hunt.\n\nBolax made great strides in his studies under the kind care of his\ntutor, Father Anthony, and his reports delighted his father and mother.\nAt Easter he received a beautiful picture of the Sacred Heart, as a\nprize for Catechism.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nAMY'S TRIP TO THE SEASHORE.\n\n\nFor seven long weeks Amy had been under the doctor's care, suffering\nfrom Chorea; she had grown thin and pale, and her mother was beginning\nto worry over her condition.\n\n\"What do you think, Lucy, of sending Amy to Atlantic City?\" she asked\none day when they were consulting what had best be done for the child.\n\n\"Dear sister, I feel sure the salt air is the best tonic for nervous\ntrouble. I will take Amy down, but you know it is impossible for me to\nstay away for any length of time, as I have an important engagement for\nthe summer.\"\n\n\"Well, I shall write to the Convent of the Sacred Heart, begging them to\nreceive our invalid for a few weeks.\"\n\nMother Evans, who was Mrs. Allen's particular friend, answered the\nletter, saying she would gladly care for the little girl, and that she\ncould be sent down as soon as convenient.\n\nWhen Amy heard of the proposed trip, she was delighted, then upon\nreflection, expressed herself as being afraid to meet so many strange\ngirls, but when she saw a nice little trunk packed with every article of\nclothing, suitable for a sojourn by the sea, she was anxious to begin\nthe journey.\n\nWhen all was ready, Mr. Allen decided that they should take a very early\ntrain, so as to arrive in a strange town in full time to be at their\ndestination before dark.\n\nBo heard the sound of wheels, and looking out saw the pony chaise at the\ndoor, Amy gave her mother a fervent good-bye kiss, then all got into the\nchaise. Bo sprang on the seat, seized the reins, and was soon driving\nquickly down the road. They were not long in reaching the station. Amy\nwas interested in watching the important business of procuring tickets\nand seeing her pretty trunk labeled; she wondered if she would be as\nwell equipped as the other girls in the convent, but she need not have\nwondered, as there are so many little girls and boys, whose treasures\nbear ample evidence of Mother's loving hands. Those little touches of\nmotherhood, hardly noticed by those whom they are so tenderly lavished\nupon, seldom, if ever valued until after those dear hands have been\nremoved to another sphere, whence, perhaps, they may be sometimes\nallowed to come, unseen by mortal eye to bear the loved ones up, whilst\nthese may be longing wearily for that sweet \"Touch of a vanished hand,\nand the sound of a voice that is still.\"\n\nIt was a delightful place to visit, that convent by the sea, and many a\npleasant hour Amy spent watching the waves come in on the white sands\nand break over her bare feet. Sometimes she donned her bathing suit, and\npaddled in the water with the other children, one of the Nuns always\nwatching over them.\n\nIt seemed nothing short of a miracle how quickly the child recuperated.\nAt the end of six weeks she had so far recovered that her mother, who\nhad come to visit her, thought to take her home, but Mother Evans\nrecommended a stay of sometime longer, so it ended in a visit of twelve\nhappy, joyful weeks.\n\nThe kind Nuns became very much attached to Amy, and she to them, and\ndear Mother Evans began her preparation for First Holy Communion.\n\nAugust was nearing its end when Mrs. Allen paid another visit to\nAtlantic City, this time, to bring her little girl home. She took board\nin a cottage near the convent, wishing to enjoy a few days of sea air.\n\nOne day when seated on the beach, both mother and daughter silently\nwatched the waves as they came in gentle ripples almost to their feet.\nAmy awoke from her reverie, exclaiming: \"Oh, it is so beautiful!\" She\nhad been reading of the early explorers of our country, the\nself-sacrificing missionaries who crossed this same boundless ocean,\nwhich now lay so calm before them. Amy went on musingly, as if talking\nto herself, such a softness had come into her voice--her eyes took a\ndreamy far-off look, as though it were fresh in her mind--the story of\nthe gallant De Soto and his brave company of six hundred men, the flower\nof Spanish chivalry, leaving the sunny slopes of his native Estramadura,\nsailing across these unknown seas, and landing upon these western\nshores; day after day pressing on through pathless wilds, on towards the\nsunset, in pursuit of that fabled El Dorado in which they thoroughly\nbelieved. And then that sad death upon the banks of the river which his\neyes first of all Europeans had beheld--the sorrowing band who resolved\nto hide his body in the waters--the little skiff, in the gloom of the\nsoft summer night, pushing silently out from the shadowy shore, with\noars muffled and voices hushed, for fear of the savage arrows hidden\namong the dark vines--the dull sound as they dropped the body in\nmid-river, and the sweet, sad music as the priest sang low the requiem\nof the departed chief--the first requiem that had ever sounded upon\nthose solitary shores, where the waves have for four hundred years\nchanted their long dirge over the man whose prowess first gave them to\nthe world.\n\nThere was, too, the grand old Ponce de Leon, who saw one Easter morning,\na land rise out of the Western Sea--a land lovely in all its luxuriant\nvegetation of a Southern spring, with breath and beauty of flowers. What\nbetter name could the romantic hidalgo devise than \"Florida,\" and where\nmore fitly than here could he search for that wonderous fountain of\nperpetual youth?\n\nAh, brave old Spanish Cavalier. Did no soft wind wafted gently from afar\nover the flowery sunset land, whisper to you that, instead of youth and\nlife perennial you should find, under the magnolia shade--a grave?\n\nA hundred wordless dreams went flitting through Amy's mind. I say\nwordless; for who shall say how we think; by what subtile art a thousand\npictures pass swiftly on before one's fancy, all so lovely and beyond\nthe power of language--I mean our language to describe.\n\nFor this reason it is, I suppose, that when a great poet speaks, all the\ndumb world recognizes what he unfolds. It is for us to feel, for him to\npaint.\n\nAmy was a very serious girl for her twelve years, constant association\nwith her mother and aunt had given her a taste for books which some\nmight think dull for one so young, but she was always a dreamy child,\nfrom the time she used to lie in her baby crib and watch the round moon\nplowing through the feathery clouds, to this moment when she looks up at\nthe blue sky spanning the boundless ocean.\n\nWhen Amy and her mother returned to the convent they found that dear\nMother Evans had been called to New York. Mrs. Allen made a hasty\npreparation so as to return home on the same train, happy in being able\nto avail herself of her dear friend's company on the journey. Amy bade\ngood-bye to all the household, thanking the Nuns for their kindness\nduring her sojourn amongst them.\n\n\nBO'S SUMMER ADVENTURES.\n\nBo too, spent a pleasant summer, he and several of his chums often went\nfishing, or hunting for wild flowers and curious stones, going into\nswampy places for specimens of plants, and sometimes coming home, as\nHetty said, \"Looking worse than Italian tramps.\"\n\nOne day Walter Rhue and Ned Thornton came to spend the day, Bo begged\nHetty for a basket of luncheon, and off they went to have a day of it in\nthe woods. It was the last week of August, rather warm, and after such a\nlong tramp, they wanted to find a cool place for their picnic.\n\nThey reached a brook, which was usually so low that it could be crossed\non some stepping stones. But today it was much swollen, owing to a heavy\nshower, which had fallen the preceding night, the water was three feet\ndeep, and rushed angrily over the stepping stones.\n\nWalter and Ned took up poles, and rolling up their pants, were about to\npick their way through the noisy current, but Bolax stopped them, and\nsaid: \"Look here, fellows, I'll show you how to cross a brook.\"\n\n\"You show me,\" retorted Ned, \"I guess I can beat you at that business\nany time.\"\n\n\"I guess you can't,\" rejoined Bo, \"just wait a minute and see how I do\nit.\"\n\nHe then stepped upon an old log on the bank of the brook, and grasping\nthe drooping branches of a large tree, which grew on the opposite side,\nprepared to swing himself across. He pulled the branch as far toward\nhimself as possible, and then leaped forward, shouting in boastful\ntones: \"This is the way to cross a----\"\n\nAlas! For Bo and his boasting. The branch broke and his weight tore it\nfrom the tree, so, instead of swinging across, he fell with a tremendous\nsplash into the water.\n\nWalter and Ned burst into a fit of laughter, so uncontrollable, that\nthey almost fell from the stones on which they stood. As soon as they\ncould speak, Ned cried: \"I say Bo, you had better take out a patent for\nyour new way of crossing brooks.\"\n\nBut Bo was not prepared to enjoy his friend's joke. He was seated in the\nbrook, with the water almost up to his chin. Seeing him so still, Walter\nwent to the edge of the water, as near to him as possible and said:\n\n\"Bo you are rather in a wet place; why don't you come out of it?\"\n\nBo then scrambled out, the water dripping from his clothes. Walter,\nwith all his fun, was not without some thoughtfulness, and fearing lest\nBolax's wetting might injure his health, urged him to hurry home to\nchange his clothes.\n\n\"No, I'll sit in the sun and dry myself,\" replied Bo in a surly tone.\n\nNed tried to persuade him to run home, but he got angry with both boys.\n\n\"Bolax, you're a snapping turtle today, and I'll leave you to recover\nyour good temper.\"\n\n\"I don't care; you may both go to the moon, if you like.\"\n\n\"Oh, very well, Mr. President, of the Patent Brook Crossing Company,\"\nsaid Walter with a provoking laugh.\n\n\"You shut up, or I'll throw you in the brook.\"\n\nBo did not usually show such temper, but his ducking had given him a\nchill, and made him nervous. Ned, the peace-maker, then remarked that it\nwas silly for friends to quarrel.\n\n\"Let us make up and get you home, Bo, or Hetty will never give us\nanother lunch for a picnic.\"\n\nWhen Master Bo got home, he tried to sneak up to his room, but his\nmother caught him on the stairs, such a sight as he was! mud, slime,\nweeds clinging to his soaking clothes.\n\nHetty raised her hands, horrified at the condition of her favorite.\n\n\"Whar yous done ben? you is getten' dreadful. Dat's de second big scrape\nyous been in since you' sister been away.\"\n\n\"Why, Hetty!\" exclaimed Mrs. Allen. \"What else has Bo been doing? I\nhope you are not keeping things from your mother, my son. I fear\nsomething is very wrong with you. Did you get to confession last week?\"\n\n\"Mamma, I was going, but Father Clement was so cross to a fellow, who\ndid a couple of mortal sins, and the fellow said he got pitched out of\nthe box, so I got afraid.\"\n\nMa--Did the boy tell you what the sins were?\n\nBo--I asked him, but he looked at me with such a face, and called me a\n\"greeny.\"\n\nMa--Oh, you should not have asked him.\n\nBo--Well, I just wanted to know if his sins were like mine. I couldn't\ndare to go to confession, if he got put out for only two mortal sins, I\nwould catch it, for I have committed such a pile of them.\n\nMa--Merciful goodness, child! When did you commit the sins? I was sure\nyou told me all your thoughts and actions of each day.\n\nBo--I do pretty much, Ma, dear, but you see I have not been having many\ntalks with you at night for a long time. You let me say my prayers\nalone.\n\nMa--My darling, I have been attending to poor, sick Papa, but I am sorry\nif my negligence has caused you to be careless about your conscience. Do\ntell me what sins you have committed.\n\nBo--Well, you know that night I came home late? I did not actually tell\na lie, but I twisted the truth. Ma, dear, if I tell you all about that\nday, promise you won't get angry--Father Clement says anger is a mortal\nsin.\n\nMa--Never mind that, I take care of my own conscience, just tell me\nabout that day.\n\nBo--Well, then, I went up to St. Thomas' as you know, after luncheon,\nwhile waiting for the train to come home, a freight car passed and\nslowed up. I heard a fellow say, \"Hello,\" I said \"Hello,\" too, and when\nI looked up at him, I saw he was a friend of mine.\n\nMa--A friend of yours!\n\nBo--Yes, Ma, dear, I often see that fellow when I am waiting at the\nstation; his name is Warner. He let me on his train several times.\n\nMa--Oh, my son! how could you be so disobedient! Getting on trains when\nyou know I have strictly forbidden it.\n\nBo--I know it was an awful mortal sin, and I came near being made to\nrepent of it all my life. One of the college boys had made me mad, that\nwas the reason I started for home. When I got to the station, Warner was\nstanding on his train, he said: \"Hello! are you the little kid that\nhelped me stoke the fire last fall?\" I said I wasn't a kid now; I was\nten years old. \"That's so,\" said he, \"come to look at you, you're round\nas a barrel, but you ain't growed taller.\" Then I told him to shut up,\nand he said: \"Oh, don't get mad, just step inside the caboose, I'll give\nyou a ride to Dorton, and you can walk back home.\" I got into the\ncaboose, and Warner laughed and talked, and I never felt the time going\nuntil we came to a standstill and I found myself at Lockfaren.\n\nMa--Great goodness, Bolax, it is a wonder you were not killed! Oh, how\ncould you be so wicked, and who helped you home?\n\nBo--I never thought of the wickedness until I saw where I was. Warner\nlaughed at me, and said I was big and fat enough to walk home. Then I\nsaid to myself, \"ha! ha! old fellow, now you're in a fix. I can never\nwalk twenty miles.\" Lockfaren is only a flag station, there was no\nlight--not a house to be seen, only the thick woods all around. My heart\nstood still with fear. When I found myself stranded in that lonely\nplace, I knelt down and made an act of contrition for all my sins, then\nI begged our Blessed Lady and St. Joseph to help me. I expected some\nwild beast would come out of the woods and kill me, for wild cats have\nbeen seen in that neighborhood. Suddenly it came to my mind to pray to\nthe Angel Guardian, for the Engineer on the next passenger train that\nwould pass, to make a stop. Oh, how I prayed! even more fervently than\nwhen I am sick, and you know how wonderfully I can pray then. Well,\nafter a long wait in the pitch dark, for it was cloudy, and not even a\nstar to be seen, I heard the welcome sound of a whistle, a bell rang,\nand I knew a train was coming. Sure enough it did come and stopped. The\nconductor and three men got out, each with a lantern, began examining\nthe wheels; I jumped on the car, and when the conductor came in, I\nwalked up to him and told the whole story. He listened and said: \"Well,\nlittle man, it seems we stopped in direct answer to your prayer. Just as\nwe reached Lockfaren, the Engineer warned me that the Wheels were\ngrating as if there was a 'Hot box.' When we examined them, nothing was\nwrong.\" I thanked the Conductor and told him my name and where he could\nsee my father to get the fare, but the kind man said he was only too\nglad to have rescued me. \"I have a little boy of my own, so my heart\nwarms to all boys, and I firmly believe kind Providence watches over\nthem; in your case the stopping of the train seems almost a miracle in\nanswer to your earnest prayer.\"\n\nMa--Why did you not tell me all this before?\n\nBo--Oh, dear Ma! I did not want to worry you. Papa was sick and Amy and\nAunt Lucy away from home. It's no use scolding me now, it happened two\nmonths ago.\n\nMa--I know it happened two months ago, but dear, you should never hide\nanything from your mother. That good conductor should have been seen by\nyour father, and thanked for his kindness, if not substantially\nrewarded.\n\nBo--Well, here is his card; I wish you or Papa would write to him and\npay my fare. Kiss me, darling mother, and forgive me, and pray that I\nmay never commit a mortal sin again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nCHRISTMAS AND \"LITTLE CHRISTMAS\" OR KING'S DAY.\n\n\nChristmas Eve had come and the children were at last asleep, dreaming of\nthe pleasures in store for them on the morrow. Mrs. Allen and her sister\nsat by the fire completing a handsome smoking robe for Mr. Allen.\n\nThe clock struck twelve, in soft, silvery chimes as the robe was folded\nand tied on the tree.\n\nMiss Lucy drew aside the curtain to look out upon the night. The snow\nhad ceased falling, and now lay in feathery drifts on the silent village\nlike a pure white veil, tracing graceful patterns among the dark trees\non the hill-side, While the stars above had the brilliancy of extreme\ncold.\n\n\"Hark! What was that?\" said Mrs. Allen. \"Surely not our bell at\nmidnight? Let us call Dick; I'm afraid to open the door.\"\n\nMr. Dick and Hetty came running down and turned on the electric light.\nTo the astonishment of all, on the porch stood a young woman with an\ninfant in her arms. Mrs. Allen brought her in, asking no questions, for\nthe poor creature was speechless with cold. Lucy took the baby, it\nopened its eyes and smiled, seeming very comfortable. Hetty gave the\nwoman a hot drink, and Mrs. Allen took off her wet shoes and clothing,\nand gave her a warm foot-bath, then she was wrapped in a blanket and\nmade to lie down on the sofa before the fire. The poor soul was so\nexhausted she fell into a profound sleep.\n\nThe good people then began to realize what they were doing, to ask\nthemselves how the woman could have selected their house for a shelter.\n\"Oh, let us thank our Lord,\" said Mrs. Allen. \"He has given us the\nprivilege of harboring the harborless.\" \"Mrs. Allen,\" remarked Hetty,\n\"dis is just like dat verse you done teached Miss Amy: 'To shelter de\nHoly wanderers on dat blessed Christmas night.' Don't you know, at fust,\nI thought it was the Holy Virgin and little Jesus. Well, I say it's for\nluck dat baby's come to dis house.\"\n\n\"Lucy,\" said Mrs. Allen, \"you had better go to bed; that you may be able\nto get up in the morning to take the children to Mass. It is absolutely\nnecessary one of us should remain home to care for our unexpected\nguests.\"\n\nAt five o'clock in the morning, Pat came into the kitchen to say the\nsleigh was ready if the folks were going to early Mass. \"Turn your back\nand shut you' eyes,\" called out Hetty. Pat, supposing she had a\nChristmas gift for him, did as he was bid.\n\n\"Is you' eyes tight shut, Pat?\" \"Faith and they couldn't be tighter, but\nhurry up, the folks'll be wantin' the sleigh in a minute.\" Hetty took\nthe sleeping babe and laid it in the old man's arms, then told him to\nlook. Pat stared in utter surprise, his eyes and mouth wide open. Hetty\nstood laughing at his discomfiture, when he could speak, he exclaimed:\n\"Holy saints! where did this come from?\"\n\n\"De Christ-child sent it twelve o'clock last night.\" \"May the Lord\nbless us,\" said Pat, \"but it's a quare thing entirely yees are telling\nme. Here, take the darlint; I must be gettin' off or we'll be late for\nMass.\"\n\nMrs. Allen called the children before five o'clock, bidding them hurry\ndownstairs, as she had a surprise for them. Hetty carried the babe into\nthe library and laid it on the table under the electric light, its eyes\nwere open, but it lay perfectly still.\n\nAs the children caught sight of the little figure they were transfixed\nwith astonishment. Amy made the sign of the cross; for the moment she\nthought only of the Infant Jesus, then examining closer, she saw it was\na real live baby. \"Of course,\" said she, \"I might have known the Infant\nJesus would not come to us, we are not holy enough.\" Bolax kissed the\nlittle thing, saying \"Isn't it a dear! Mamma, are you going to keep it?\"\n\n\"Come, now,\" called Aunt Lucy, \"we must not be late for Mass; when we\nget home we will hear all about the wonderful baby.\" On the way to\nchurch, Aunty explained how it came that the poor mother was in the\nhouse, and no doubt would be able to tell why she sought shelter under\ntheir roof.\n\n\"Well,\" exclaimed Pat, \"may God bless yees all for the most warm-hearted\nfamily I ever met. None of yees will ever be in want of a roof to cover\nyou, for surely the dear Infant Jesus will not forget your many great\nacts of Charity.\"\n\nAt seven o'clock Hetty took some breakfast up to the woman, and brought\nher baby to be nursed. She seemed greatly refreshed and said she was\nable to get up. \"Don't you stir, honey,\" said Hetty, \"unless you is\nreal able, if you is, Mrs. Allen wants to see you in de library.\" Having\ndressed herself and attended to her baby's wants, Hetty took her\ndownstairs.\n\nMrs. Allen asked the woman's name and questioned as to the reason for\nselecting this house in which to take refuge.\n\n\"Indeed, ma'am, I'll tell you how it was, but first let me thank you;\nsure it's no wonder the station-man spoke so highly of your charity.\"\n\"Say nothing about that; I only wish I had it in my power to do more.\"\n\"Well,\" continued the woman, \"my name is Mary Ryan. My husband was\nkilled a month ago; he fell off a scaffolding while painting a house. I\nstayed with his people after his death, but they soon let me see I\nwasn't welcome, so I went to an intelligence office to look for a place.\nThe man made me pay him a dollar, then he gave me the address of a Mrs.\nClarkson out here near the station. He said they especially wanted a\nwoman with a child because such are willing to stay in the country.\n\n\"I paid my fare out and got here at three o'clock, it was daylight then,\nand I hunted high and low for Mrs. Clarkson, but no one had ever heard\nof such a person. I didn't know where to go, so I remained in the\nstation as it was snowing hard. The watchman was so kind. He gave me a\nsandwich and asked me if I had nowhere to stop for the night. I told him\njust how it was with me. He said: 'A friend of mine just happens to be\noutside with his sleigh and I'll tell him to take you where you'll be\nwell treated.'\n\n\"I didn't know but what it was a lodging house he was taking me to;\nwhen he came to your gate he just put me on the boardwalk and told me to\ngo up to the door.\"\n\n\"Well, Mary, you are welcome, poor child; we will do what we can for\nyou. Have you a valise?\" \"Yes, ma'am; the man at the station has care of\nit.\" \"I will send our man for it as soon as the sleigh comes back.\" \"Oh,\nGod bless you ma'am!\" \"Don't say any more, dear; your name is Mary; you\nand your child were in need of shelter, like the divine Mother Mary. I\nconsider it a privilege to be allowed to share the comforts our Lord has\ngiven me with any one in need.\"\n\n\"Go to Hetty now, she will take care of you. I know of just a place that\nwill suit you, and in a few days when the roads are somewhat better, I\nwill take you there.\"\n\nIn the excitement about the baby, the children forgot to look at their\npresents early in the day, but after Mass all were eager to see what old\nSanta had brought them. Amy received several gifts she had been longing\nfor. Bolax got what he prized more than anything, viz:--a whole set of\nFather Finn's books.\n\nThe Christmas dinner was indeed a mirthful one. All the love gifts, as\nMrs. Allen called those that were made expressly for each member of the\nfamily, had been placed on the tree behind the ornaments. Mr. Allen\nentered into the spirit of the evening, saying he would act the wizard's\npart, and by means of long wand detached the various treasures from the\ntree and gave them to their owners, whose names they bore.\n\nGreat was the delight of the children, when after a hard tussle to\ndetach a large bundle, down it came on Mr. Allen's head. It proved to be\na beautiful smoking robe, which had been made and embroidered by Mrs.\nAllen, Lucy and little Amy.\n\nThe good man was so charmed that he declared he would not use his wand\nagain until he had full five minutes to admire it. Amy received a lovely\npair of bed-room slippers, the work of Aunt Lucy; Mrs. Allen, a sofa\ncushion made by her sister in New York; Aunt Lucy, a blue silk waist,\nembroidered in white roses. Uncle Dick, a smoking cap, made by Mrs.\nAllen; Bolax, a pair of silk and woolen mitts, knit by Aunt Lucy. Bo\ngave Hetty a work box, which he made with his tools, and Amy, a\nneedlebook, on which she had embroidered, \"Hetty, dear.\" Pat too,\nreceived a little \"love gift,\" but both faithful domestics had had a\nsubstantial present from the \"Master.\"\n\nMr. Allen put on his robe and cap to please the children, strutting up\nand down the library floor, saying he was sure he resembled a Chinese\nMandarin in his gorgeous robe. Now let us end the day with some of your\nspirited Yule-tide airs: \"Strike the Harp\" and \"With Glory Lit the\nMidnight Air.\" Every one sang with hearty good will to the accompaniment\nof piano and violin.\n\nThat night when the family sought their pillows, all felt that they had\npassed a very happy and holy Christmas.\n\n\nJANUARY SIXTH.\n\nBolax ran into the library covered with snow, his two dogs with him\nmaking a pretty mess on the rugs. Mamma called out: \"Look at the\ncondition of your boots, child.\" Hetty happened to be on hand with the\nbroom. \"Dat's easy cleaned up,\" said she. \"Bo don't think sometimes, but\nhis heart is in de right place after all,\" which \"after all\" was known\nto refer to a spirit of fun and a tendency to mischief such as most\nlively boys possess.\n\n\"Does anyone remember that tomorrow is my birthday?\" exclaimed Bolax.\n\"Whew,\" echoed Uncle Dick, \"is that a fact? What will be the number of\nyour years tomorrow?\" \"Eleven. Hetty has made me a splendid cake, but\nI'm not to have a party because Papa is not well.\" \"Oh, but you're going\nto have your chums,\" observed Amy. \"Yes, our jolly seven will be here,\nand Hetty says that enormous cake must be eaten at one sitting.\" \"You\nhave made a mistake, brother, that very large cake is for the crippled\nchildren in St. Luke's Hospital; there are eighteen of them in the ward\nand we are to take it there ourselves and divide it.\" \"That's so, I had\nalmost forgotten about the poor children. We had better go there early\nin the morning and have the afternoon for our company.\"\n\n\"Children,\" said Uncle Dick, \"Would you like to hear the story of the\nfirst time a cake was cut on King's Day?\" \"Yes, yes, let us have it\nplease,\" exclaimed both at once.\n\n\nUNCLE DICK'S STORY.\n\nThe three Wise men, Balthazar, Melchior and Gaspard, were kings, living\nin countries widely separated; yet each one saw a wonderful brilliant\nstar, such as had never before appeared, and a heavenly messenger told\nthem to follow this star, that it would lead them to a new-born king,\nwho was to be greater than all the rulers of the earth. So the wise men\nor Magi set out bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, which\nthey were to give to the wonderful child, whose star they had seen in\nthe \"East.\"\n\nThey had traveled such a long time and were tired sitting on their\ncamels, so they came to a halt near a dense forest. It had been raining\nfor several hours and now the sound of distant thunder and the fury of\nthe wind warned them to seek shelter for the night. Their followers took\nrefuge in a cave and refused to go a step further; so the kings were\ncompelled to continue their journey alone. After walking for a long time\nalmost famished with cold and wet to the skin, they came to a little\nvillage and determined to ask hospitality at the first house they saw.\nThis house, or I should say hut, was situated at the entrance of the\nforest, and belonged to a poor woodcutter named Japhet.\n\nThe kings knocked very loudly, Japhet and his wife opened the door,\nwondering who could want them at such a late hour. Our distinguished\ntravelers begged a shelter from the storm and some food. The woodcutter\nwas startled when he saw such grand people, and hesitated about letting\nthem into his cabin, big Melchior, however, settled the question by\npushing back the door, then all entered.\n\n\"Now,\" said Gaspard, \"do give us some supper and a place to rest, we\nwill pay well.\" \"Alas! honored, Sirs,\" answered Japhet. \"I have but one\nbed, and as for supper, we have nothing to offer but black bread and\nwater. But, we will do the best we can to make you comfortable for the\nnight.\"\n\nSo the tired out kings sat down and were glad enough to eat of the black\nbread, and satisfy their thirst with water. Japhet then made a big fire\nand the kings having dried their clothes, laid themselves upon the clean\nstraw bed, which the good wife had made for them.\n\nWhen morning light shone through the chinks of the cabin wall, the kings\narose and prepared to continue their journey. Balthazar, who was the\nmost generous, said: \"My good people I want to give you something in\nreturn for your hospitality.\" \"Oh, never mind,\" said Japhet. \"The little\nwe had, we gave with a good heart, but we did not expect anything in\nreturn.\" At the same time the poor fellow held out his hand.\n\n\"I have no money,\" explained Balthazar, \"but I will leave you a\nsouvenir, which will be of infinitely more value.\" Saying this, he\nsearched in his pocket, drew out a little flute, and presented it to\nJaphet, who received it with a look of disappointment on his face.\n\n\"You see,\" continued Balthazar, \"if you make a wish while playing a\ntune, it will be immediately granted. Take the flute; do not abuse its\ngifts, and above all never refuse a shelter or food to the poor\nwayfarer.\"\n\nAs soon as the three kings had left the hut, Japhet said to his wife:\n\"Well, it seems to me, such rich-looking people could have given us\nsomething better than a toy, nevertheless I will try its power; should\nnot wonder though, if those fine gentlemen were not mocking us when they\ngave such a fool's present.\"\n\n\"Oh, try it just once,\" said his wife. Japhet then played a lively tune,\nat the same time wishing for a venison steak and some white bread. Great\nwas the astonishment and delight of the poor people when they saw on\ntheir table all they had asked for.\n\nWhen Japhet was certain of the power of the flute he did not stop at\nnecessities, as you may well believe, he asked for all sorts of things;\nindeed he kept the flute going from morning until night.\n\nHe got new clothes for himself and his wife; had the best of food to\neat, and, as all he had to do was to wish for a thing to have it, he\nbecame the richest man in the country. He fluted for a magnificent\npalace, which took the place of his poor cabin; again he fluted and the\npalace was filled with fine furniture, pictures, statuary and luxuries\nof all descriptions.\n\nWhen everything was complete he gave a grand dinner, inviting all the\nrich people of the neighborhood. Every invitation was accepted, for no\none remembered the poor woodcutter, who was now the mighty Lord\nFlutandget.\n\nIn the dining hall the table was set with the finest service of gold,\nand cut glass reflected the light from hundreds of perfumed lamps. A\nband of musicians sat behind a bower of exquisite flowers, playing soft,\nsweet tunes.\n\nWhen all was ready, the guests sat down to a feast, the like of which\nhad never been seen in the whole Kingdom. Lord Flutandget was in the\nheight of his glory, and looked as proud as if he owned the whole world.\n\nHis wife sat beside him, feeling very ill at ease in her stiff silk, and\nscarcely able to move her hands for the rings, with which her fingers\nwere laden.\n\nSo that the feast should not be disturbed, the lackeys had been ordered\nto keep all intruders off the place. Besides this, my Lord Flutandget\nhad two fierce dogs chained on either side of the gate to keep off\nbeggars.\n\nThe guests and their host gave themselves up to the full enjoyment of\nthe feast. All were loud in their praises of My Lord and his Lady,\ncomplimenting them on their lavish entertainment, wishing them long\ncontinuance of health, prosperity, etc.\n\nWell, this very evening the three Kings happened to be returning to\ntheir own country, after having paid homage to the Infant Christ. When\nthey came near the village by the forest, they saw a splendid castle\nwhere formerly stood the woodcutter's hut.\n\n\"Ah, ha!\" said Gaspard to Balthazar, \"I should not be surprised if our\nold friend has not made bad use of your little flute. I wonder if he has\nkept his promise, and is kind to the poor, now that he is so rich.\"\n\n\"Well, let us try him,\" said Balthazar. So disguising themselves as\nbeggars, they went to the gate of the castle, asking for a little food.\nThe porter bade them \"begone,\" but as they insisted on being allowed to\nenter, the servants made such a clamor, that Lord Flutandget put his\nhead out of the window to see what was the trouble. Seeing the beggars,\nhe ordered the dogs to be set on them, so the poor Kings were obliged to\nfly in a very unkingly manner.\n\n\"I told you so,\" said Gaspard, whom one of the dogs had caught by the\nshins. \"I'll fix him,\" said the giant, Melchior. \"I'll make him feel the\nvengeance of the three Kings.\"\n\nIn the meantime the guests continued to feast. Dessert had just been\nserved; my Lord Flutandget held in his hand a broad silver knife, with\nwhich he was about to cut an enormous cake, each guest was to have had a\nslice to take home. Just then the noise of carriage wheels was heard; my\nLord Flutandget looked towards the window, and seeing a grand carriage\ndrawn by six white horses, he supposed it was some of the high and\nmighty guests he had invited, so he went himself to meet them.\n\nThe three Kings entered in regal attire, crowns on their heads and\nclothed in purple and precious stones. Flutandget recognized his guests\nof the hut, but put on a bold front and begged them to take a seat at\nhis table.\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Balthazar, coldly. \"We cannot eat with a man who\noppresses the poor and sets the dogs on them.\" \"I compliment you on the\nway you keep your promise,\" said Melchior, the Giant King, and his voice\nsounded deep and severe.\n\n\"Ah, you set your dogs on beggars,\" said Gaspard, who still felt an ache\nin his shins. \"You often play on your flute, I see. Oh, wait a while;\nI'll give you a tune that you have not yet heard,\" and taking from his\npocket a little flute, just like the one that had been given to Japhet,\nhe blew a terrible blast which caused all the glasses on the table to\nsplit. Again he put the flute to his lips, all the lights went out and\nthe guests rushed from the castle, trampling over each other in their\nhaste to get away. At the third sound of the flute, the palace\ndisappeared, and the woodcutter found himself alone sitting on the ruins\nof his hut, he and his wife clothed in rags.\n\n\"Oh, what shall we do?\" said the poor woman.\n\n\"Never mind,\" said Japhet, \"I still have the flute.\" But search as he\nwould, the talisman could not be found; it had disappeared with the\nthree Kings.\n\nEver since this happened, it is customary to have a large cake on\n\"King's Day,\" January 6. It is filled with small silver coins and a\nslice is given to visitors, or to any poor person who comes to ask an\nalms.\n\n\"I like that story,\" said Amy, \"although it is not in the Bible.\"\n\n\"Well, dear, you may imagine the Kings met with many adventures on their\nlong journey, and the occurrences I relate might have happened as likely\nas those we read of in 'Ben Hur.' Stories of this kind can do no\npossible harm, and after reading them, children's curiosity is excited,\nthey want to know more, so they become interested in Bible history.\"\n\nThis reminds me of a visit I paid to a lawyer in Chicago, and what\nhappened to him for his lack of knowledge of Bible stories.\n\nA friend of mine, who is a very successful lawyer, in the course of\nconversation one day, declared he believed the time had come when\nlawyers should know a few things besides law. The Bible, for instance.\n\n\"That is a very worthy thought,\" said I.\n\n\"I don't claim to be any better or worse than the next person,\" went on\nthe lawyer, \"but I believe a good knowledge of the Scriptures would\nbenefit a man of my calling professionally.\"\n\n\"And spiritually,\" I suggested.\n\n\"I dare say it would. I had a case in one of those downtown justice\nshops. It went to a jury trial, and the bailiff hauled in half a dozen\nof those professional hoboes, that are always hanging around such\nplaces, on the chance of making a couple of dollars by sitting on a\njury.\"\n\n\"I put up two witnesses to prove my case, and one repeated and\ncorroborated the evidence of the other in every particular. The lawyers\non the other side argued that this exact agreement of my witnesses at\nevery point made their testimony unreliable. He said no two men could\npossibly give the same account of what they had seen, not even men of\nsound and undoubted rectitude. He said that even the Bible proved this,\nand then he told the story of Jonah and the whale.\"\n\n\"How did Jonah come into the case?\" I asked.\n\n\"Just this way, my opponent said the Bible contained two versions of the\nstory, one by St. Matthew, and the other by St. Mark. St. Matthew's\naccount was that Jonah made the entire voyage inside the whale, while\nSt. Mark declared that Jonah came out occasionally and sat on the\nwhale's back to get a breath of fresh air.\"\n\n\"Dear me,\" said the presiding judge. \"That version of the voyage of\nJonah sounds strange to me. I suppose you can give chapter and verse for\nit. If you can, I wish you would.\"\n\n\"He can do no such thing, your Honor,\" said I. \"There is no account in\nthe Bible that tells of Jonah riding on the whale's back.\"\n\nMy opponent glanced from one to the other of us contemptuously, and then\nlooked significantly at the jury.\n\n\"Gentlemen of the jury,\" he said solemnly. \"I am not addressing my\nremarks to this Honorable Court, nor to the learned gentleman on the\nopposite side of this case, whose lamentable ignorance regarding one of\nthe most familiar Scriptural narrations, I sincerely deplore.\"\n\n\"In drawing a parallel between the suspiciously coinciding character of\nthe evidence here given by two witnesses, who apparently have compared\nnotes with extreme care, and the discrepancies shown in the statements\nof two great inspired writers, I am directing my remarks to intelligent,\nupright men, who study their Bibles, and who have the great truths of\nScripture at their finger ends.\"\n\n\"You should have seen how that bench of hoboes nodded complacently as\nthat audacious lawyer insulted the Court and me. The upshot of the whole\nbusiness was that I lost my case, and all through not knowing what St.\nMatthew and St. Mark wrote about Jonah.\"\n\nI could scarcely keep from laughing while my friend was telling the\nstory, but at this point, I broke out in a prolonged fit of merriment.\n\n\"What amuses you so much?\" said my friend.\n\nWhen I could control myself sufficiently to speak, I told him neither\nSt. Matthew nor St. Mark ever wrote that story. It was written thousands\nof years before they were born. Jonah and the whale story belongs to the\nOld Testament.\n\n\"You don't say! Well, I'll be switched!\" exclaimed my friend. \"My only\nconsolation,\" continued he, \"is that the Judge didn't know any more than\nI did.\"\n\n\"That's a good story, Uncle Dick, but if your lawyer had a mother like\nmine when he was a boy, he never would have made such a ridiculous\nmistake about Jonah.\"\n\n\"Come, children,\" called Aunt Lucy, \"it's past bed time.\"\n\n\"Good-night, Uncle. Good-night Grandpa Mischief.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nPRACTISING.\n\n\nMa--Bolax you are wasting your time, don't stop, you have not practised\nlong enough.\n\nBolax--Look at the clock, Ma, dear. It was bright sunlight when I began,\nand now the shades of night are falling.\n\nMa--That's very poetical, but you must continue practising.\n\nBolax--Oh, you are the provokingest mother I ever saw; I'll not love you\na bit after a while, if you keep on making me practise.\n\nMa--Go on with your lesson, especially that piece for the concert.\n\nBolax--Bang, bang, oh, how I wish the man who invented pianos was dead.\n\nMa--Well, he is dead.\n\nBolax--Then I wish all the professors were dead.\n\nMa--A great many of them are. Go on with your work.\n\nBolax--Oh, Ma, dear, can't you let up on a fellow, if you don't, indeed,\nindeed, I'll be dead too!\n\nMa--That has no effect upon me, Bo, I make you practise for your own\ngood. I take the trouble to sit here and worry over you, when I might be\nupstairs resting.\n\nBolax--But Ma, dear, how do other boys manage? Their mothers don't\nbother to make them learn music.\n\nMa--Perhaps those boys don't need the urging you do.\n\nBy this time the patient mother began to show signs of nervousness, and\nBo, who really loved his \"Ma dear\" began to play with a will, but having\nthe spirit of mischief strong in him, put some funny words to the tune\nhe was playing.\n\nBolax--Oh, twenty thousand rats and forty thousand cats, they all\nscreamed and yelled in sharps and flats!\n\nSuddenly turning round on the stool, he said, \"Ma, dear, just let me\ntell you a dream I had, while I'm resting my fingers.\"\n\nMa--Well, only for two minutes.\n\nBolax--Last night you made me practise so much and old Professor was so\ndreadful at lesson, that I dreamed I went to the piano, and all the keys\nturned to Brownies, they looked more like Goblins, and began to dance up\nand down, they played jig music. It was fine. I gave them \"On the\nMeadow\" and \"Sounds from the Forest,\" and they played the two pieces\nright off.\n\nMa--Now dear, give just one-half hour more to your lesson and I'll let\nyou have all day tomorrow free, it's the beginning of the Christmas\nholidays, and the cold is so intense I shouldn't be surprised if the\nskating and sliding would be fine.\n\nThus spurred on, Bo surprised himself, and the half hour was more than\npassed when his mother called him to come upstairs, but he was in the\nmiddle of a piece and waited to finish it.\n\nBolax continued playing softly, then called out--\"Ma, dear! I wonder if\nwe will have an adventure this year like last Christmas.\" \"Not very\nlikely, my dear; fortunately there are not many placed in the position\npoor Mary Ryan was that night. I have invited her to come to the\nSunday-school entertainment, and her little Joe is to represent the\ninfant Jesus in the tableaux of the crib.\"\n\n\"Oh, that will be splendid. Hurrah!\" shouted Bo.\n\nDecember 23 was a glorious winter day. The sun shone brilliantly, no\nwind, and the thermometer low enough to keep the skating pond in good\ncondition, the ice and snow on the hills crisp and slippery for\ncoasting. All day long was heard the jingle of sleigh bells and the\nshouts of merry children enjoying themselves, rang through the air.\n\nElmer Mullen, who was a boy of sixteen, had formed a great friendship\nfor Bo. He was quite a good musician and seemed attracted towards the\nlittle boy because of his musical talent.\n\nWhenever there was any especial fun on hand, Elmer always called for Bo\nto join him. There were seven boys who always went together--Elmer\nMullen, John Montgomery, Joe Davis, Tom Nolan, Walter Rhue and Bolax.\nElmer and John had been prospecting for a hill to make a toboggan slide.\nThey found one very high, but rather steep, it was about a mile from the\nvillage. This was just what suited them for they wanted to keep away\nfrom the rough crowd.\n\nOn the very top of this hill was a small shanty built the previous\nsummer by the men who had been cutting down trees.\n\n\"Say boys,\" said Elmer, \"let us play we are the monks of St. Bernard.\"\n\n\"But we haven't even one St. Bernard dog,\" said John.\n\n\"Yes, we have,\" replied Archie. \"Joe Davis has a tremendous fellow, he\nrolls in the snow, and dug out a chicken that had been buried in a\ndrift, and brought it into the kitchen without hurting it.\" \"Let us have\nhim by all means,\" said Elmer. \"We will call the hut our monastery and\npretend this hill is the top of Mount Blanc; we'll send our dogs to find\npeople who are lost in the snow.\"\n\n\"I can bring our Don,\" said Bolax. \"He's most as big as a St. Bernard,\nbut where will we get people to rescue?\"\n\n\"Let me see,\" reflected Elmer. \"I am the oldest; I'll be the Abbott, you\nboys will be the brothers; you must all obey the Abbott.\"--\"Obey!\"\nexclaimed Bo. \"Oh, that's no fun, we're always having to do that. I want\nto whoop and holler; let us be snowed-up Indians and make the shanty our\nTeepee.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Elmer, \"this afternoon we seven boys will meet. Bring the\ndogs and sleds, then we'll decide which it shall be--Monks or Indians.\"\n\nAfter dinner the seven chums climbed Mount Blanc. Elmer told the boys\nMount Blanc was one of the highest mountains in Europe, about 10,000\nfeet above the level of the sea. \"Great goodness!\" exclaimed Bolax. \"No\none could ever climb such a height! Oh, Elmer let us be Esquimos.\"\nSaying this Joe Davis and Bo began a series of gyrations accompanied by\nwar-whoops, and getting on their sleds, pitched down the hillside into\nan unexpected drift. Nothing could be seen of them but the soles of\ntheir shoes.\n\nElmer and the other boys set to work immediately to rescue the Indians.\nWith the help of Don and Bosco both were gotten out after very hard\ndigging with boards, for they dared not wait to go to find shovels, lest\nthe boys would suffocate. When our brave Indians were delivered from\ntheir perilous position, it took vigorous rubbing to bring them to their\nsenses.\n\nElmer then proposed placing them on the sleds and taking them home. On\nthe way they stopped at a farmhouse and the good woman gave them some\nhot lemonade, with a generous supply of sugar, the boys found it\ndelicious and were loud in their expressions of gratitude, for the hot\ndrink entirely revived our Esquimos.\n\nPassing along the road to the village they saw some grown folks in\nHouston's meadow sledding, and shouting as if they were boys again. Joe\nDavis' papa was among them, so he ran to join in the fun, not a whit the\nworse for his snow bath.\n\nElmer suddenly remembered that Professor had appointed that night for\nthe rehearsal. \"Oh, yes!\" said Bo. \"By the way, it's to be at our house\nand I had forgotten all about it. Mamma has invited some of the\nneighbors to spend the evening and act as audience, so that the timid\nones will get used to playing before strangers. Here we are. The gate is\nopen and there's a sleigh at the barn, I shouldn't wonder if Professor\nhad come already. Elmer, do hurry back; don't dress as if it were the\nreal concert.\"\n\nWhen Bolax went into the library, Papa and Professor were chatting\npleasantly, seated before a roaring fire with its yule log, reminding\none of the \"Merry Christmas\" cheer of olden times. \"Hello, my boy!\" said\nProfessor, reminding Bo that he had promised to distinguish himself and\nhoping he had practised so well as to be sure of all his pieces. \"Marie\nLove is my prima donna and I want you to be leading man.\"\n\nAfter tea the young ladies and children who were to take part in the\nconcert came into the house laughing and shaking the snow from their\nclothes, all enjoyed the cheerful fire, and when comfortably warm the\nmusic began, as Professor did not wish to keep late hours on a snowy\nnight.\n\nElmer gave a selection from the \"Carnival of Venice\" on the violin.\nEvery one complimented him, but Bo was loud in praise of his favorite\nchum.\n\n\"What do you expect to do with yourself, Elmer, after you leave school?\"\nasked Mr. Allen.\n\n\"Well, I hope to be a priest, I expect to enter the seminary next\nSeptember.\"\n\n\"Hurrah!\" exclaimed Bolax. \"Now I know why you wanted to play Monks\ninstead of Indians.\" This caused the whole adventure of the afternoon\nto be recounted. Professor laughed heartily at the exploit of the\nIndians, but begged Bo to keep out of danger until after the concert. \"I\ndon't want your head or hands to be lacking that night. Now, ladies and\ngentlemen, if you are ready we will begin. The first on the program is:\n\n  1. Lorita Grand Concert Waltz        _Holst_\n      Master Allen and Miss Love.\n\n  2. Mazurka Tzigane                 _Lichner_\n      Miss Amy Allen.\n\n  3. Violin Solo,\n      Bessie Donati.\n\n  4. Narcissus                    _I. Leybach_\n      Miss Louis Harrison.\n\n  5. Oration on Music.\n      Elmer Mullen.\n\n\nORATION ON MUSIC.\n\nThe pleasure derived from music arises from its exciting agreeable\nsensations, and creating pleasing mental images and emotions. Apart from\nwords, it expresses passion and sentiment; joined to words it becomes a\nbeautiful illustration of language. From the earliest ages of the world\nmusic was held in high esteem, and in Egypt and Greece was considered an\nessential part of the religion of these ancient nations. God's greatest\ngift for man's pleasure is the hearing of sweet sounds. He gives us\nmusic in songs of the birds and there is such a variety of these aeriel\nmusicians. In Paraguay, South America, is a bird called the \"bell.\" When\ntraveling through the forest one hears it at early morning, at mid-day\nand in the evening. So wonderfully like a bell is the note of this bird\nthat on hearing its clear ring at regular intervals, one would suppose\nhe were listening to the Angelus-bell from the tower of some church or\nmonastery.\n\nMusic must be loved to be studied profitably. Each new step taken in the\nright direction develops power and suggests possibilities to the loving\nstudent.\n\nMusic is useful in all occupations of life. How often have we not heard\nof missionaries converting savage tribes by telling them the truths of\nreligion in song.\n\nThe physician can bring music with his practice and calm a nervous\npatient by playing a soft, soothing air, which sometimes has more effect\nthan medicine.\n\nMusic is not only a body healer, it is also a mind regulator. Inward\nactivities are called up, and become new powers within the breasts, for,\nremember emotion nerves for action.\n\nThe most stupid horse that goes up hill to the sound of bells, the\ntimidest soldier that marches to battle with fife and drum, the most\ndelicate girl who spins around tireless in the dance, the poorest\nlaborer who sings at his work, any of them will prove that music rouses\nand sustains emotion.\n\nPainting, sculpture and other arts which men spend years and years\nacquiring are useful for this world only, but music they can take with\nthem to Heaven.\n\nO, music! thou language of the Gods, how shall I find words wherewith to\nsound thy praises. Thou art the soother of sorrows, earth is happy under\nthy influence, and Heaven would be deprived of half its glory without\nthee!\n\nThis was very much applauded, and Colonel O'Brien called out \"well done,\nFather Mullen, you'll be giving us fine sermons in a few years.\"\n\nNext number is:\n\n   6. Charge of the Uhlans                   _Carl Bohm_\n        Mr. Clement Lowery.\n\n   7. Menuette l'Antique                       _Gobbart_\n        Miss Nora O'Brien.\n\n   8. Ivy Leaves                             _H. Leston_\n        Flossie Holloway.\n\n   9. L'Hirondelle                             _Leybach_\n        Master Bo Allen.\n\n  10. Overture to Barbier de Seville           _Rossini_\n        Professor Rinaldi and Miss Marie Love.\n\n  11. Les Rameaux\n        John Kenan.\n\n  12. Song--\"The Bells that Ring for me\"       _Rinaldi_\n        Miss Charlotte Verier.\n\n  13. Marche Triumphale                         _Mozart_\n        Miss Amy and Bolax Allen.\n\nThis ended the rehearsal. Professor than spoke a few words thanking the\naudience for their evident appreciation of his pupils' efforts.\n\nColonel O'Brien, who seemed to be spokesman for the rest of the company,\nsaid: \"Professor, it is we who should thank you. I can honestly say I am\nsurprised at the proficiency of your pupils; either they have\nextraordinary talent or you are a wonderfully successful master. Now let\nus give three cheers for Professor and wish him health, happiness and\ngreat success for the coming year.\" The cheers were given with a hearty\nring, for the dear gentleman was highly esteemed by every one.\n\n\"Professor,\" said Elmer. \"Bolax knows a fine piece, I think it ought to\nbe on the program.\" \"Well, Elmer, not this time; I fear we have kept our\naudience too long for such a stormy night.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, no!\" called out several of the ladies. \"Come, Bo let us hear\nyour oration.\"\n\n\"Oh, bother! It is not an oration; it's just a funny piece about a\nnewsboy, who got into a church and is astonished at all he hears and\nsees.\"\n\n\nTHE NEWSBOY'S SOLILOQUY ON HEARING A BOY SING IN CHURCH.\n\nBY THOMAS KELLEY, OF OMAHA.\n\n    Well, ye see, I'd sold my papers,\n    Every bloomin' blessed one,\n    And was strollin' round the corner.\n    Just a prospectin' for fun,\n    I was loafin' by the railin'\n    Of that church you see right there,\n    With its crosses and its towers,\n    Kind of settin' off the square,\n    And I got a sort of lonesome,\n    For the gang, they weren't around,\n    When I heard a noise of music,\n    Seemed like comin' from the ground.\n    It was nothin' but some singin',\n    But it sounded mighty fine,\n    Course, I ain't no judge of them things,\n    An' it's no affair o' mine.\n    Then it seemed to kind o' weaken,\n    And I didn't hear it plain,\n    Till the band struck up a whoopin'\n    An' heerd it all again.\n    Well there seemed to be a show there,\n    That I thought I'd like to see,\n    An' there was so many a goin'\n    I jest says--I'll bet it's free.\n    So I looks around the corner,\n    An' I makes a careful search,\n    For I knew the kids'd guy me,\n    If they heerd I'd been to Church.\n    Well, there warn't a soul a-lookin',\n    So I up an' walks right in,\n    An' I sat down in a corner,\n    While they finished up their hymn.\n    Well, sir! blow me if I ever\n    Was so taken aback!\n    There was marchin' up the aisle\n    A gang of kids in white an' black.\n    They was singin' just like angels,\n    An' they looked so slick and nice,\n    I wondered where they got 'em--\n    Were they always kept on ice?\n    An' they wore a long black cloak, sir;\n    Comin' to their very feet,\n    An' an overall of white stuff,\n    Just like what's in a sheet.\n    Then some men came on behind them,\n    Singing loudly as they came,\n    But although the kids was weaker,\n    They got there all the same.\n    Then behind the whole percession,\n    Came two men, most all in white,\n    An' they wore some fancy biziness,\n    An' they looked jest out o' sight,\n    But they didn't do no singin',\n    Just kept still an' looked ahead,\n    An' says I'll bet they're runnin'\n    All the show, that's what I said.\n    Then they all got up in front there,\n    An' the music sounded grand,\n    But to save my neck I couldn't,\n    Get a sight, sir, of the band.\n    I could hear it as distinctly,\n    So I guessed it must be near,\n    But I saw no men, nor nothin',\n    An' I thought it very queer.\n    Well, a man was standin' near me,\n    An' I touched him with my hand,\n    Then he looked around and saw me,\n    An' sez I: \"Say, where's the band?\"\n    Then he looked at me a grinin',\n    Just as tho' I'd made a joke,\n    That 'ere look he gave me,\n    Made me sorry that I'd spoke.\n    Then he says: \"Why, that's the organ;\n    All those pipes you see up there,\n    One man plays it with his fingers,\n    An' another pumps the air.\"\n    Here the music stopped so sudden,\n    That I most forgot myself,\n    An' I heerd some man a talkin'\n    From a book laid on a shelf.\n    Then they all got up and read some,\n    First the man, then the crowd,\n    After that they knelt down softly,\n    An' I seed their heads were bowed.\n    So I bowed my head down too, sir;\n    An' listens to every word,\n    But I didn't understand them,\n    Every time they said, \"Good Lord!\"\n    Well they kept that up some longer,\n    Till a plate came down the aisle,\n    An' some people dropped in money,\n    Some others dropped a smile.\n    I suppose they'd come on passes,\n    For they were allowed to stay,\n    So I gave them my four pennies,\n    It was all I had that day.\n    Then a kid got up in front there,\n    With a paper in his hand,\n    All the rest was sittin' quiet,\n    An' the man tuned up the band.\n    Well, that kid began a singin'\n    Till I thought my heart 'ud break,\n    For my throat was full of choking,\n    An' my hands began to shake.\n    Well, I never seen no angels,\n    An' their songs I never heard,\n    But I'll bet that there's no angel,\n    Beats that kid--for he's a bird.\n    He was lookin' like a picture,\n    With his robes of white and black,\n    An' I felt my tears a comin',\n    For I couldn't keep 'em back;\n    An' I wondered if he always\n    Was as good as he looked there,\n    Singin' all about the angels,\n    Angels ever bright an' fair,\n    Well thinks I, guess it's easy,\n    To be good and sing so sweet,\n    But you know it's kind o' different,\n    Sellin' papers on the street.\n    When the kid got thro' his singin'\n    I got up an' made a sneak,\n    An' I went outside the church there,\n    An' I swear I couldn't speak.\n    Then I ran across the gang, sir;\n    They was hangin' round for me,\n    But some how I didn't want 'em,\n    An' just why, I couldn't see.\n    So I said I couldn't join 'em\n    Cos I had another date,\n    An' I went on walking homeward,\n    Like a kid without a mate.\n    An' I sneaked in just as quiet,\n    An' I lay down on my bed\n    Till I slept an' got a dreamin'\n    'Bout the angels overhead.\n    An' they wore such shinin' garments,\n    An' they sang so sweet and fine,\n    An' the one right in the middle\n    Was that singin' kid of mine.\n    Now I kinder want to know, sir--\n    So I'm askin', you see--\n    If them kids can all be angels,\n    Is there any show for me?\n\nBo was applauded \"to the echo,\" and Professor said that piece should be\nrecited at the May Concert. Just before leaving, every guest had to take\na cup of cocoa, as Hetty said. \"You all jest drink it up, it will put a\nweb of flannel round you' heart, an' keep out the cold dis freezin'\nnight.\"\n\nElmer and the boys started a college song--\"Good Night and Good-Bye\n'Till We Meet Again.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nFIRST COMMUNION.\n\n\nAfter school closed Mrs. Allen had a serious conversation with her son\non the subject of First Holy Communion. \"You are now past eleven, dear\nchild, and I want you and Amy to devote the whole vacation to immediate\npreparation for your First Communion. Sister Amy is thirteen, but owing\nto her infirmity, has been deprived of that favor until now. I have made\narrangements with the Sisters of Mercy to take you for the next six\nweeks, that you may be under special instruction and away from\nmischievous pranks and scrapes like those of last summer, when in\ncompany with the village boys.\"\n\n\"But Ma, dear, six weeks! Will I have to be silent and pray all that\ntime?\"\n\n\"No, no, my son; there are a few nice boys in the Convent who will\nremain all summer, so you will not be without recreation. Indeed, you\nwill have plenty of fun, for the Sisters play ball with the boys.\"\n\nAmy came into the room while her mother was speaking.\n\n\"I have just been telling Bolax of what we propose doing by way of\npreparation for that most important event of our lives, viz: the First\nreception of our dear Lord in Holy Communion.\"\n\n\"You both know your catechism perfectly, and I am sure understand all\nyou have studied. I know you firmly believe all the sacred truths\ncontained in the Gospels and Teachings of the Catholic Church. For the\npast three years our talks on the subject have been many and earnest.\nYou know how kind our dear Lord was while here on earth, how he fed five\nthousand people in the wilderness. Well, He is just as loving and kind\nnow, and gives us His precious Body and Blood to nourish and comfort our\nsouls. So, dear children, let all your thoughts, words and actions from\nthis day be offered up as a preparation for that greatest of all events\nof your life, your First Holy Communion.\"\n\n[Illustration: AMY.]\n\n\"We will give up all reading, except books that lead our thoughts to\nholy things, not necessarily dull or uninteresting because they are\nholy. You know how delighted you were with 'Fabiola,' 'Faber's Tales of\nthe Angels,' 'Babies Who Died for Christ,' 'The Little Spouse of the\nBlessed Sacrament.'\"\n\n\"I should like to read 'Fabiola' again Ma, dear,\" said Amy. \"I always\nfeel--I don't know exactly how to describe my feelings after reading\nsuch a book as 'Fabiola'--happy, calm, a longing to have been one of the\nfirst Christians to have loved our dear Lord as did little St. Agnes.\"\n\n\"And I,\" said Bo, \"wouldn't I enjoy going round with the big soldier\nQuadratus, and tearing down the Emperor's edicts against the Christians.\nOh, wouldn't I play tricks on those mean old Pagans; I tell you I'd make\nthem skiddoo.\"\n\n\"Mamma,\" said Amy, pointing to a painting of Ecce Homo, \"I do so love\nthat sad face; sometimes when I sit here and look at it intently, the\neyes seem to open. Once I was so sure of it, I got Hetty to take the\npicture down. Oh, I feel so sorry for our dear Lord, especially his\ncrown of thorns. Why, oh why, couldn't they have taken it off while he\nwas carrying the cross. He must have struck His sacred head against the\ncross as he staggered under its heavy weight up that awful road to\nCalvary,\" and the gentle, tender-hearted girl sobbed aloud.\n\nBolax, at this, jumped up, dashing a book against the wall and kicking\nhis chair, he exclaimed: \"Oh, if I had been there I would have gotten a\ncrowd of boys and thrown stones at those awful executioners! Surely lots\nof boys must have known and followed Jesus--what cowards they were! You\ndon't hear of any one offering to help Him; every one was afraid except\nbrave, glorious St. Veronica.\"\n\n\"My dear impetuous boy, I am comforted to know you think of and feel for\nour suffering Savior.\"\n\n\"What you would have done had you been present at the awful scene on the\nroad to Calvary, do now, by making sacrifices of your own will,\nsuffering something for the love of Jesus.\"\n\n\"You must not compare the American boy with the boys of those long ago\ntimes; the Roman soldiers who were driving Jesus were naturally cruel\nand rejoiced in having a victim on which to exercise their cruelty. They\nwould have exterminated even a crowd of men had they dared to interfere,\nand boys would have been crushed to death instantly. Mercy was an\nunknown virtue to the people of those days.\"\n\n\"Mamma,\" said Amy, \"thinking of my general Confession, I feel I must\nask your advice on one subject; is it a sin to pray for animals?\"\n\n\"Oh, Ma, dear,\" interrupted Bolax, \"I want to ask about that too.\"\n\n\"Elmer Mullen laughed at me when I told him I always prayed for poor\nhorses, dogs and cats that I saw badly treated. Sometimes I beg men and\nboys to cease their cruelties; often I fight those that won't stop\ntormenting animals, then when all fails I just pray for the poor things.\nAnd Ma, dear, while I think of it, did you ever see a nanny goat faint?\"\n\nSerious little Amy burst out laughing at the odd question, and Bo's\nearnest expression of countenance when asking it.\n\n\"It's nothing to laugh at, Sister. I'll tell you how it happened. Tom\nBurk and Dan Donavan were trying to make their goat pull them in a\nlittle wagon, but she was not able; they beat her and she fell over and\nshut her eyes. I stooped over her and rubbed her head. Then a man came,\nand after a long wait she came to, and he ordered the boys to take poor\nNanny into the stable.\"\n\n\"My dear, kind boy, we will have to make you President of the\n'Prevention of Cruelty Society.' Several people have told me what a\nlittle champion you have shown yourself on many occasions.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Amy, \"I cannot fight to prevent cruelty, but all my life I\nhave prayed for that intention. When I pray for a poor over-laden horse\nor a homeless, starved dog, I always say, 'Dear God, you made these\ncreatures, surely you cannot be angry if I ask you to have pity on\nthem.'\"\n\nMrs. Allen put her head down on the table to hide her emotion, but the\nchildren thought it was because she was shocked at what they had told\nher about the prayers. Amy put both her hands on her mother's arm,\nsaying: \"Ma dear, oh, I hope it was not a mortal sin! And just to think\nI never confessed it! I never thought it was a sin at all.\"\n\nHere Mrs. Allen raised her head, tears were in her eyes. Bolax put his\narms around her neck, saying: \"Dear, dear Ma, is it really so bad a sin\nas to cause you to weep?\"\n\n\"My darlings, bless your dear compassionate hearts. I must plead guilty\nof the very same sin. Without ever letting any one know it, since my\nchildhood I have prayed that the cruel driver might have mercy on his\npoor horse; that the starving animals might be helped in some way. I\nprayed that a mercy stroke might be given the dying horses on the\nbattlefield; that the God of Compassion would have pity on the thousands\nof sheep and cattle who perish miserably on the unsheltered plains. Oh,\nsurely our prayers are not lost! Many saints were renowned for their\nlove of the brute creation; dear St. Francis of Assisi called them his\nlittle brothers and sisters. So let us hope our dear Lord will not be\noffended for what we have done in a spirit of pity and love for His dumb\ncreatures.\"\n\n\nCRY OF THE LITTLE BROTHERS.\n\nE. M. BARBY.\n\n    We are the little brothers, homeless in cold and heat,\n    Four-footed little beggars, roaming the city street,\n    Snatching a bone from the gutter, creepin' thro' alleys drear,\n    Stoned and sworn at and beaten, our hearts consumed with fear.\n    You pride yourselves on the beauty of your city fair and free,\n    Yet we are dying by thousands in coverts you never see.\n    You boast of your mental progress, of your libraries, schools and\n      halls,\n    But we who are dumb denounce you as we crouch beneath their walls.\n    You sit in your tinseled playhouse, and weep o'er a mimic wrong,\n    Our woes are the woes of the voiceless; our griefs are unheeded in\n      song.\n    You say that the same God made us. When before His throne you come,\n    Shall you clear yourselves in His presence\n    On the plea that He made us dumb?\n    Are your hearts too hard to listen to a starving kitten's cries,\n    Or too gay for the patient pleading in a dog's beseeching eyes?\n    Behold us, your little brothers, starving, beaten, oppressed--\n    Stretch out a hand to help us that we may have food and rest.\n    Too long have we roamed neglected, too long have we sickened with fear,\n    The mercy you hope and pray for, you can grant us now and here.\n\n\nBOLAX GOES TO THE CONVENT OF ST. IMELDA.\n\nOn July sixth Mrs. Allen took her son to the Convent, where Reverend\nMother Gertrude received them cordially, and placed Bolax under the care\nof Sister Joseph, who was to be his special instructress for Holy\nCommunion.\n\nFor a few days he felt homesick, but soon got over it. The good Sisters\nhad always some work or play to occupy their pupils, so that time never\nseemed long or lonely to the boys.\n\nAs the school was only eight miles from Midville, some one went down\nevery week and all the household sent letters to our boy. Reverend\nMother gave Mrs. Allen an invitation to spend the three days of the\nretreat in the Convent with her children, as Amy's health would not\npermit her to remain away from her mother's care.\n\n\nCONVENT OF ST. IMELDA.\n\n_Dearest Mother and all at Home_: You will be glad to know that I am\nwell and happy. My First Holy Communion is always in my mind, and I am\ndoing all I can to prepare for the great day. I went to Confession to\nthe Chaplain Father Drumgool, and I will make my General Confession in\none week's time.\n\nPlease come down to see me as soon as you get this, I want to see you\nparticularly, bring Sister Amy, I want Mother Gertrude and the Sisters\nto see her. I make two visits to the Blessed Sacrament every day, and\nbeg our Lord to make me worthy to receive Him.\n\n  Your loving son,\n\n       BOLAX.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  JULY 18TH.\n\n_My Beloved Son_: Yours just received, and oh how it gladdens my heart\nto know you are contented.\n\nI dream of you every night, and my heart longs for you, but I know it is\nbest for your soul to be with the blessed Sisters. The longer you are in\nsuch a heavenly place, the less you will feel like leaving it. I look\nback at my Convent days as the happiest of my life.\n\nPapa has felt less pain in his arm for the last few days, so your\nprayers are being heard already. God bless you, darling, and make you a\ngood and sincere Catholic.\n\n       MAMMA.\n\nOffer all your actions, even your play, as so many prayers that your\nFirst Communion may be a very holy one. Sister sends her dearest love;\npray that she may be able to make her retreat with you at the Convent.\n\n  Your loving,\n\n       MOTHER.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  HOME, JULY 26TH.\n\n_My Dear Little Nephew_: Your mother was so glad to see something\nbelonging to you that she actually kissed the bundle of your soiled\nclothes. Oh, dear child! I wonder if you ever will repay that mother for\nher adoring love of you. All she asks in return is, that you will always\nbe a fervent Catholic all the days of your life. Don't disappoint her.\n\nSeveral of the boys were here asking for you, but we did not explain why\nyou were away, as they would not understand about First Holy Communion.\nElmer came and was so glad to hear of you being in the Convent.\n\nAmy and I will be down to see you in a day or two. I will then tell all\nthe news, so this letter will have to be short.\n\n  Your loving Aunt,\n\n       LUCY ALLEN.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Dear Little Master_: Wherever you be, do stop for a moment and listen\nto me, while here on this paper I try to relate how sad we dogs are; not\nknowing your fate. \"Mamma Fan\" says you're dead, that she ought to know,\nfor all her three puppies told her so.\n\nThey miss the big giant who came every day to love them and squeeze them\nwhile she was away.\n\nTot went to your room and snuffed all around, then he cried very loud,\nfor all that he found was just an old shoe, torn inside and out. Oh!\nsaid he, now I know Bolax's whereabout, those \"Goblins\" have caught him,\ncause he wouldn't \"watch out.\"\n\n  Your lovingest dog,\n\n       DON.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_My Honey Boy_: You' old Hetty miss you night and day. Law! de howse\ndone got so still, even de dogs notis it.\n\nEf I say you' name dey looks all round, and den dey whynes when they\nkant find you.\n\nI'se hopen you is goin' to get relijon enuff to last you de rest of you'\nlife. Pat sends love, he kant rite, so he axed me to rite dat for him.\n\nYou is prayen for me, I no, bekose dat pane I had in my bak and my nee,\nis done gone.\n\nGod bless you, dis is from you' own old\n\n       HETTY.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  AUGUST 8TH.\n\n_Soul of My Heart_: Your conduct yesterday showed wonderful improvement.\n\nI noticed your patience on two occasions, then your willingness to go\nwithout the candy although I could see you wanted it.\n\nAll this shows you are learning the Catholic spirit of mortification,\nor, as you will better understand it; giving up what is most pleasing to\nus, and bearing with little privations. You are now I hope doing all\nthis with good will, as a preparation for your First Holy Communion.\n\nOur Lord will notice each act of self-abnegation made for His sake.\n\nHow like Heaven that Convent is. Often in dreams I am in my old Convent\nsinging the hymns, walking in the May procession, but most glorious of\nall were the First Communion days. The hymn for that day comes back to\nme now and thrills my heart.\n\n    O saint Autel qu'environent les Anges!\n    Qu' avec transport, aujourd 'hui je te vois,\n    Ici mon Dieu l'objet de mes louanges,\n    Vient dans mon coeur, pour la premi\u00e8re fois.\n\nO darling; how I would love to shield you from all the trials of the\nworld. O offer myself to our Lord as a victim; to do with me what He\nwill, send me any cross or trial, no matter how hard to bear, if only He\nreceives my children among His chosen ones and secures their eternal\nsalvation.\n\nBe very attentive to all the instructions you receive, and do all in\nyour power to make a perfect preparation for the great grace you will\nreceive.\n\nO my beloved! in after years, when troubled with worldly cares, it will\nbe a consolation to look back on these days of holiness and peace.\nThoughts of them will come upon you, long after the heart that dictates\nthese words of love shall have ceased to throb, and the hand that pens\nthem shall be--dust.\n\n       MAMMA.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  ST. XAVIER'S COLLEGE.\n\n_Dear Little Friend_: I congratulate you sincerely on your happy\nprivilege of receiving our Lord. It is a good thing on this occasion to\nmake good resolutions, but you must not rest satisfied with making them,\nyou must turn all the energy of your will to keeping them exactly as you\nmade them.\n\nIt is not right to pledge one's word to God, and afterwards take no\npains to carry out the promise. If you promised a boy of your own age\nsomething and then neglected your word, the boy would despise you.\n\nIt is much worse to treat God with neglect. I do hope that after your\nFirst Holy Communion you will strive hard to overcome your defects, to\ncorrect the faults that your Mother notices in you.\n\nThat you will endeavor to give the greatest satisfaction to your parents\nis our Lord's wish, and mine. They have labored so much for you,\nsuffered so much; your mother especially, they have had so much trouble\nwith you when you were a helpless infant, that it would be the greatest\ningratitude now, when you are able, not to seek to give them pleasure\nand comfort.\n\nAnother reason for paying the closest attention to what your parents say\nis that they are your best friends, all they want from you is for your\ngood; so if you are docile and obedient you will become a good man, and\nnot one that we should be ashamed of in after life.\n\nSay your prayers every evening, renew your good resolutions every\nmorning, and promise to obey in everything, and I am sure you will\nbecome a good man.\n\n  Your friend in Christ,\n\n       ALOYSIUS ROCOFORT, S. J.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  MARQUETTE COLLEGE, AUGUST 14TH.\n\n  Master Bolax Allen.\n\n_My Dear Little Friend_: Your letter has given me a great deal of\npleasure. At first I could not think who was writing; then I remembered\nyou are the boy who wished I might live a hundred years. So this is the\neve of your First Holy Communion!\n\nWell dear, you have my best prayers that your heart may be adorned with\nall the virtues that will make it worthy of so great a grace.\n\nYou write a nice letter, just the kind Claude used to write. I hope you\nwill love your religion and hate sin as did little Claude Lightfoot.\n\n  Your friend in Christ,\n\n       F. J. FINN, S. J.\n\nOn August 12th the children's Retreat opened, Mrs. Allen and Amy took\nthe train in the morning so as to arrive at St. Imelda's before noon.\nTheir first visit was to the Chapel, then Sister Joseph conducted them\nover the house and grounds. Bolax insisted on showing the \"Most\nbeautiful cows in the world,\" as he termed the well-kept Convent herd.\n\nThe Retreat opened at four in the afternoon, with Rosary and Benediction\nof the Blessed Sacrament.\n\nThe order of exercises were Holy Mass at half past six. Then breakfast.\nA walk in the grounds; spiritual reading, Stations of the Cross, not the\nprayers in books, but some story told at each station, then an act of\ncontrition, and a prayer for the holy souls.\n\nAfter dinner Bo was asked to help Sister Martha to weed the garden and\ngather vegetables, so that he might join work to prayer. He was\ndelighted to think he could be of use, but, of course, the dear sister\nonly wanted to give him occupation, that he might not feel the silence\nof the retreat too monotonous.\n\nAmy made many visits to the Blessed Sacrament, indeed she would have\nremained hours in the Chapel if allowed. Mrs. Allen read interesting and\ninstructive spiritual books, especially one by P\u00e8re Bordalou on the\n\"Last Supper.\" This she read every day, because she was anxious that it\nshould be deeply engraven on her children's minds and hearts.\n\nAfter the evening meal some of the Sisters would sit with the family\nunder the trees in the garden, or walk about the beautiful grounds. One\nday Amy pointed to a bed of lilies of the valley, saying: \"Sister, when\nI die I want to be buried under those lilies.\" \"My darling,\" exclaimed\nher mother, startled by the earnest manner of the child, \"don't talk of\ndying, what would I ever do without my little daughter. Oh, no, my\nprecious, our Lord will surely spare you to help me, besides you know,\nyou are your father's guardian angel. I depend on your prayers,\nparticularly for his conversion.\"\n\nLucy and Mr. Allen were anxious to be present at the ceremony on the\nfifteenth of August, but there was no hotel in the vicinity of the\nConvent and no train could be had from Midville at so early an hour.\n\nMother Gertrude said, Miss Lucy could come to the Convent, then she went\nto see one of her friends, a Mrs. O'Donnell, who lived a short walk from\nthe Convent gate; this lady gladly offered to receive Mr. Allen for the\nnight, so both father and aunt had the pleasure of being present at the\nceremony in the morning.\n\nThe Feast of the Assumption was celebrated with unusual splendor at St.\nImelda's. Five little girls renewed their First Communion, dressed in\nwhite and wearing wreaths and veils. Amy's costume was very plain, but\nspotlessly white and new; her mother did not approve of dressing\nchildren in finery for so sacred a function, lest thoughts of their\noutward appearance should divert their mind from the holy act they were\nabout to perform.\n\nMr. Allen and kind Mrs. Donald were at the Chapel door just as the\nAngelus bell was ringing; they were ushered into a seat by one of the\nSisters. At ten minutes of six the organ played a grand prelude and all\nthe Sisters and children sang: \"Jesus, My Love, is Mine Today.\"\n\nIt was a most impressive scene; the soft, solemn music, the devout\nattention of the children, even the little boys so still and\nrespectful.\n\nMr. Allen had never before witnessed such devout Worship.\n\nWhen the time came to approach the altar, Reverend Mother led the\nchildren to the communion rail, while the choir sang soft and low, \"Come\nInto My Heart, Dear Jesus, Come.\"\n\nLittle Amy looked so white and seemed to tremble.\n\nThe priest stood with the Sacred Host in his hands; slowly and with\nevident emotion, repeating the \"Domine non sum dignus.\"\n\nThe children then returned to their seats with hands joined and eyes\ncast down; Amy's cheeks, which had been so pale were now delicately\ncolored. There was such a transformation. It seemed that a smile from\nheaven played around her lips, to give them angelic grace.\n\nAfter Mass the children were clasped in their parents' arms, and all the\nsisters and friends congratulated them on their happiness.\n\nIn taking leave Mr. Allen thanked the Reverend Mother most heartily for\nher kindness to his family and expressed himself as being \"almost\nconquered.\"\n\nMrs. Allen remained with her children for the afternoon services, which\nwere: The renovation of the Baptismal vows, Benediction of the Blessed\nSacrament and a short sermon.\n\n\nTHE CHAPLAIN'S ADDRESS TO THE FIRST COMMUNICANTS.\n\nDear children I do not intend speaking to you of Faith. I am sure yours\nis firm and sincere. I come only to remind you of your promises made to\nour blessed Lord this morning, to ask you to fill your hearts to\noverflowing with love. Love for our merciful Jesus in all stages of His\nlife and death, but particularly love for Him in the divine Sacrament.\n\nLove makes all things easy! so dear children, never tire asking the\nBlessed Mother of Jesus to give you of the love which filled her heart,\nthat yours may ever be adorned with the virtues which will make it a fit\nabiding place for your merciful and sweet Saviour.\n\nLove for Jesus will give you patience to bear with the contradictions\nand crosses you meet with; even little children have crosses. They may\nbe reprimanded for a fault which another committed; bear the reproof\npatiently for the love of Jesus; a companion may be harsh and unjust\ntowards you, be glad that you have something to suffer for love of\nJesus. A bouquet of sacrifices to offer at the end of each day, will be\nmore acceptable than if it were the most exquisite flowers culled from\nyour gardens.\n\nDearest children come as often as you can to the Holy Table, don't be\nafraid--don't think of your unworthiness, no one ever was entirely\nworthy of Holy Communion, except the Blessed Mother of Jesus.\n\nCome! I say, eat this heavenly bread that you may be strong to resist\nall temptations, that you may learn to love our Lord devotedly on earth,\nso as to be prepared for an eternity of love in Heaven.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nUNFORSEEN EVENTS.\n\n\nAfter all the exercises had been performed, Mrs. Allen and the children\nbade farewell to the Sisters, and Reverend Mother gave them a pressing\ninvitation to visit the Convent often.\n\nWhen our friends reached Midville Station, Papa Allen was waiting for\nthem with the carriage, which soon brought them to \"Home, Sweet Home,\"\nas Bo sung out, when he saw Aunt Lucy, Uncle Dick and Hetty standing at\nthe gate.\n\nBo hugged every one, including Don, when that, too demonstrative beast\ngave him a chance to notice any one but his own dogship.\n\nUncle Dick declared he never again would complain of noise for \"the\nhouse has been like a desert without our harum-scarum.\"\n\nAmy and her brother kept together as much as possible during the\nremainder of the summer. The pony chaise was in demand every afternoon,\nand the children always invited a few of their friends to enjoy a drive\nwith them.\n\nOne day Mrs. Allen filled a basket with roses, which she gave to Amy,\nsaying: \"I wonder if you and Bolax wouldn't like to take these up to\nGrandma Barton.\" Allie Thornton, who was present, asked: \"Is she your\nreal Grandma?\" \"Oh, no,\" answered Amy; \"she is a poor old lady, nearly\nblind, to whom Mamma sends things; we love to go to see her.\" \"Let me\ncarry the basket to the chaise; it feels quite heavy,\" remarked Estelle.\n\n\"Very likely Mamma has placed a pot of jelly under the flowers,\" said\nAmy. \"My mother says that when we bestow a gift we make it doubly\nacceptable by giving it in a graceful manner. This old lady has no\nrelatives to look after her, she has a son, but she does not know where\nhe is. Mamma says it is pitiful to hear the poor soul talk of that son,\nhow she prays for him and hopes he will come back to her before she\nbecomes entirely helpless.\" \"I just hope God will punish that son!\"\nexclaimed Bo. \"Father Anthony says anyone who is cruel to his parents\nwill have no luck in this world and be everlastingly punished in the\nnext.\" \"Dear brother, don't hope evil for any one, rather let us pray\nthat the heartless son may be inspired to think of his dear old mother\nand return to her.\" Just here a bend of the road brought them upon a\nlittle cottage of the romantic order, overgrown with woodbine, in which\nGrandma had a room. The dear old lady greeted the children heartily,\nthanking them for the flowers. \"Take seats, my dears; oh, not there\nchild, that is Velvet Ear's chair,\" and Bolax sprang aside just in time\nto save himself from sitting upon a tiny skye-terrier.\n\n\"Are you well this morning?\" asked Amy. \"Oh, very well, dear,\" answered\nGrandma.\n\nAfter a few more pleasant remarks the children bid good-bye, then\ngetting into the cart drove leisurely along the road.\n\nSuddenly there was a thunder-clap, and a dark cloud appeared where the\nsun had shone a moment before.\n\n\"Drive as fast as you can, Brother; I fear we will be drenched!\" while\nshe was speaking, the rain poured down. Bo knowing how easily his sister\ntook cold, divested himself of his jacket and put it around her. \"Ben\nBolt\" seemed to take in the situation and got up a speed he had never\nbefore shown. When they reached home all were soaked. Estelle laughed\nabout her plight, but Bo hurried his sister into the house, where his\nmother and aunt soon had her in a warm bath, then to bed with a cup of\nhot lemonade, hoping thus to ward off the consequences of such a severe\ndrenching.\n\nIn a few days Amy began to cough. Dr. Carroll looked serious when asked\nif the cough would last long.\n\nIn ten days the child grew rapidly worse, and Mrs. Allen sent for her\nhusband, who was on one of his Western trips. He came home to find his\nlittle daughter so ill, that her life was almost despaired of. Bravely\nthe doctors fought against the dread disease which they feared would end\nfatally, although they managed to ward off the danger for a time.\n\nThe Sisters came up from the Convent to see the dear child and try to\nconsole her father and mother.\n\nWe will have all our children and sisters pray if it be God's will to\nspare your beloved one.\n\n\nAMY'S DEATH.\n\nIt is a sweet October morning, a tender mist, gray in the distance,\nrose-colored and golden where the rays of light strike it more directly,\nenvelopes the landscape; the trees are decked in holiday attire--green,\nrusset, orange and scarlet.\n\nOn a couch placed near the window reclines the meek patient sufferer.\nAunt Lucy stands near, Hetty kneels beside her \"baby\" with a cup of beef\ntea trying to coax her to swallow a few spoonfuls.\n\n\"Hetty, dear, don't force me, I am not hungry.\" \"My blessed angel do\ntake just a few drops for your old Hetty.\"\n\nAmy heeded not, her thoughts were far away. \"Auntie,\" she remarked,\n\"isn't that woods like a piece of Heaven? See how the trees glisten as\nthe sun shines on their waving branches. How glorious Heaven must be\nwhen earth is so filled with beauty.\"\n\nAunt Lucy looked into the ethereal face, and unbidden tears coursed down\nher cheeks.\n\nHetty stooped over the wan little hand, and kissing it, hastened from\nthe room, her heart bursting with grief. In the kitchen she met old Pat,\nhis head bowed and his whole bearing showing the depth of his grief for\nwhat all now saw was inevitable.\n\n\"Hetty,\" said he in a hoarse whisper, \"is she going?\" \"Oh, Pat, I feel\ndis is de last day we will have our angel child. Dey done telephoned for\nDr. Carroll, he will be here directly.\"\n\nAt two o'clock the doctor told the assembled household, that but a few\nhours of life remained for the dear one.\n\nAt three o'clock death with \"solemn steps and slow,\" is steadily\napproaching. Now her voice, which before has been scarcely above a\nwhisper, becomes strong again, as is frequently the case in the dying,\nand she tries to sing in the old sweet way: \"Jesus, Jesus, Dearest\nLord.\"\n\nIt seems as though the angels were present, Heaven so fills the room.\n\nAfter a moment's rest she turned her eyes on the weeping company, and\nsaid: \"Don't weep for me, rather rejoice that I will soon be with Our\nDear Lord and His Blessed Mother. Mamma, dear, say that beautiful prayer\nthat ends with--'Merciful Jesus have mercy on me.'\"\n\n\"Mamma, dear, you will come to me in Heaven. There will be no parting,\nwe will walk together through the golden streets, and through the\nbeautiful gardens forever. Come, kiss me now, darling mother!\"\n\nThen she addressed Mr. Allen, who stood with great tear-drops rolling\ndown his face, his heart broken with sorrow.\n\n\"Dear Papa, how I love you! You have been such a loving father to me and\nBrother, so good to dear Mamma--Forgive my having tried your patience so\noften.\"\n\n\"Heart's dearest,\" answered her father, \"you have never caused me a\nmoment of trouble in all your life.\"\n\n\"Darling Papa you will come to me when Our Lord calls you. I know you\nlove Him. Father Leonard will show you the true way to reach Heaven; O\npromise me you will follow it.\"\n\n\"My angel child,\" responded the father, \"I solemnly promise.\" His sobs\nchoked his utterance, but kneeling and taking his child's hand he kissed\nit fervently.\n\nExhausted by her efforts, she lay silent awhile, then turning to Bolax,\nshe said: \"Dear little Brother, never forget the promises you made to\nOur Lord the day of your First Holy Communion. Oh, serve Him faithfully\nthat you may meet me in Paradise.\n\n\"Dearest Aunt Lucy, I thank you for all your years of kindness and love;\noh, I know you will be there to rejoice with me.\n\n\"And Hetty dear! let me kiss the hand that nursed and tended me so\nfaithfully.\"\n\nHetty's grief was becoming uncontrollable, so she hastened from the room\nlest she should unnerve the rest of the family.\n\nPoor old Pat was not forgotten, when called to bid farewell, he managed\nto control himself while he knelt asking the dear child's blessing.\n\nHere Reverend Father Leonard entered the room. Mrs. Allen lit the\ncandles on the little altar at the foot of the bed; all withdrew for a\nfew moments leaving Amy alone with the Priest.\n\nWhen the Father was ready to administer the Holy Viaticum, every one\nreturned to the room, each bearing a lighted candle, knelt in prayer.\nAfter receiving Our Dear Lord, the child's face became radiant; a\nheavenly smile lit up her countenance, she murmured: \"Jesus, precious\nJesus; how I love Thee! and yet--how unworthy I am!\" Here she held out\nher hands as if beckoning to some one. \"O my beloved! take me to\nThyself! Jes--\" The lips ceased their utterance with the sweet name half\nspoken. One long-drawn sigh and another angel was added to the\ninnumerable company of the Blessed. The days that followed Amy's death\nwere to the household painful in the extreme.\n\nMr. Allen was overwhelmed with grief. It was useless to try to speak to\nhim; for two days he shut himself in his room and the Doctor could\nscarcely persuade him to take nourishment.\n\nMrs. Allen was resigned to God's will, although her heart was crushed\nwith sorrow.\n\nKind neighbors came offering condolence, indeed the family had the\nsympathy of the whole village.\n\nReverend Mother Gertrude sent a letter by two of her Sisters reminding\nMrs. Allen of Amy's desire to be buried under the Bed of Lilies.\n\n\"We are sure now,\" said the Sisters, \"the dear child had a presentment\nof her approaching departure from this world, so Reverend Mother begs\nyou will have the funeral from our Chapel and let the dear one rest\nunder the Lilies of the Valley.\"\n\nReverend Father Leonard was consulted as to the advisability of\naccepting Mother Gertrude's gracious offer; Mrs. Allen feared her pastor\nmight wish the funeral to take place in the parish church. \"On the\ncontrary,\" said the good priest, \"I think no resting place could be more\nfitting for such a child than a grave where the rays of the Sanctuary\nLamp shine out upon it through the Church windows. I shall go to St.\nImelda's and ask to be allowed to celebrate the Mass, which must be what\nwe call the 'Mass of the Angels.'\"\n\nThe funeral was announced for Thursday morning, carriages were to leave\nthe house at half-past eight, so as to reach the Convent in time for the\nservices at half-past nine. The Chapel was draped in white, all the\nflowers and ornaments on the altar and the vestments were white.\n\n[Illustration: AUNT LUCY.]\n\nProfessor Renaldi's pupils, who were in the same class as Amy, presented\na beautiful harp of white rosebuds, with the word \"Love\" formed of\nForget-Me-Nots woven across the strings.\n\nThe Chapel could scarcely contain the number of people who came to pay a\nlast tribute of love to the dear child.\n\nThe gates of the Sanctuary were left open and the casket placed in front\nof the altar as near the rail as possible.\n\nDuring the Mass the music was almost joyous. Reverend Mother ordered\nthis expressly so that the bereaved parents might be soothed in their\ngrief.\n\nSix little girls dressed in white walked beside the casket as it was\nborne to the grave, and now our dear, our beloved one sleeps under the\nLilies, emblematic of her own pure soul.\n\n\nFUNERAL SERMON.\n\nDear Friends, I need not tell you who is she over whom we weep today.\nYou well remember little Amy, who only a few months ago knelt at this\naltar to receive Our Lord for the first time.\n\nLike St. Imelda her heart and soul were absorbed in love for Jesus in\nthe Blessed Sacrament. On the night of the day Amy made her First\nCommunion, her mother heard her crying and sobbing in her bed. When\nasked what could cause such grief, she answered: \"O, Mother, this was\nthe happiest day of my life, and I grieve because it is ended.\"\n\nThis child was especially loved by God. Graceful in form, lovely in\nfeature, and in innocence of heart an angel, she seemed like some\nbright heavenly spirit lent for a time to the world to light up God's\nlove in it.\n\nThere was about Amy a spiritual refinement--a looking forward to the\nthings that are to come, a sweetly sad yearning towards Jesus, the\nobject of her young heart's pure love.\n\nOur Lord was jealous of the possession of so pure a soul, and before its\nloveliness might be tarnished by any fault incident to human frailty, he\ncalled her from earth to place her near His Sacred Heart for eternity.\n\nAmy's whole life seemed to tend to one point, namely to love God above\nall things and in all things; she knew that without God's love man is\nnot fulfilling his destiny, he is astray on a pathless waste--a ship on\na storm-tossed sea, without helm and without hope.\n\nWill you ask me how the dear one died? Think how she lived. A happy holy\ndeath closed a happy innocent life.\n\nIt was my sad duty to attend her during her last illness. I have seen\nmany persons die, but among them all, Amy shone out pre-eminently for\nher resignation to God's will.\n\nShe was often heard praying in subdued tones, when intense pain assailed\nher: \"O Holy Mother of Jesus, help me to bear my sufferings with\npatience, in union with those your Divine Son endured for me when dying\non the cross.\"\n\nRaising his hands and eyes to Heaven, the Priest prayed:\n\n\"Dear Angel child! we look up to you on this bright day, crowned in\nHeaven with a fadeless crown, pray for those you have left behind to\nmourn. If earth has lost an angel, Heaven has gained one. If we have\nbeen deprived of a dear affectionate daughter and sister, we have gained\na blessed intercessor before God's Holy Throne in the glory of\nParadise.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAfter the funeral Mr. Allen started for a business trip to St. Louis.\nThe Doctor said it was best he should go rather than remain where\neverything reminded him of the beloved one and gave him a heart-pang.\n\nWinter passed quietly, when Christmas came it was celebrated as a\npeaceful holy day; every one tried to be cheerful, but there was a minor\nin the carol--a spray of Cypress twining 'mid the holly wreaths.\n\nOn the first day of March a quiet wedding took place in the family, when\ndear Aunt Lucy became the wife of our beloved Doctor Carroll, to the\ngreat delight of Bolax and all the family, especially Hetty, \"who always\nknowed dat weddin' done had to be.\"\n\nMrs. Allen begged that the \"Honey-moon\" trip should not be prolonged, as\nshe could not spare her sister, so in three weeks' time the bride and\ngroom returned to reside permanently in the old homestead.\n\nOne day in April, Bolax surprised every one by returning from school\nearly in the morning, having been ordered home on account of scarlet\nfever, which had suddenly broken out at St. Thomas'.\n\nLater in the day the President telephoned to Mrs. Allen telling her\nthat there were fifteen cases in the house, the disease having been\nbrought in by a day pupil. \"It will necessitate our closing the classes\nfor the season, and will entail a serious loss to the College.\"\n\nSo Bolax had to study as best he could at home with the assistance of\nMamma and Uncle Carroll.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nBOLAX GOES TO COLLEGE.\n\n\nFor several winters Mr. Allen had suffered from severe grippe colds,\neach year his system seemed less able to resist the attacks, so Dr.\nCarroll prescribed a winter in Florida, saying that it was an absolute\nnecessity both for his health and as a complete rest from business, to\nwhich he had been a slave.\n\nMrs. Allen and the whole family held a consultation as to what should be\ndone with Bolax while they were in Florida.\n\n\"I want to board at St. Thomas', Papa; the boys have such fun, I know\nI'd have a good time there; I was the youngest day scholar last year and\nall the seniors liked me.\"\n\n\"My dear child,\" said his father, \"if fun be all your aim in boarding at\na college, you can have all you want of that at home at less cost. I\nfear there is too much of your 'fun' going on in our colleges and very\nlittle solid education.\"\n\n\"That's just what I've been thinking,\" observed Mrs. Allen, \"and I've\nmade up my mind to send Bolax to my uncle, who is President of the\nCollege at L'Islet, Canada; that is, my dear, if you don't object.\"\n\n\"I do most emphatically object to having my son go so far from home.\"\n\n\"But,\" argued Mrs. Allen, \"the boy will be better cared for under the\npatronage of a relative than he would be in the most expensive of our\nColleges here. My uncle has frequently written to me, telling of the\nexcellent methods and strict discipline of his school, which he has\nplaced under the care of Christian Brothers.\"\n\nAs they were speaking, Dr. Carroll and Lucy came into the room.\n\n\"What would you advise about our boy, Doctor?\" asked Mr. Allen.\n\n\"On what subject?\" said the Doctor.\n\n\"We are thinking of placing Bolax at college, and his mother wants to\nsend him to her uncle in Canada.\"\n\n\"Canada is very far away,\" objected Aunt Lucy, \"why not let him remain\nwith us, as we are to live in your house during your absence.\"\n\n\"Now, Lucy, you ought to think it high time that a boy nearly thirteen\nyears of age should be above coddling,\" remarked the Doctor, \"that is\nwhat you and Hetty have done all his life and it is time to stop it. The\nboy is not working up to his ability here. Composition and music are the\nonly branches in which he receives a high average, these require little\nor no exertion on his part, but in all other studies his average is low.\nI really feel a change would benefit him, we might make the trial,\nshould it prove unsatisfactory, it will be easy to take him home again.\"\n\nAfter debating for and against the Canadian project, Mr. Allen was at\nlast persuaded to give his consent, and preparations were made for Bo's\ntrip to Canada. Boy-like he was elated at the idea of traveling,\nespecially when he heard he was to undertake the journey alone. When he\ntold his companions about it, they opened their eyes in amazement,\nand some of their mothers wondered how such a harum-scarum could be\ntrusted so far on the trains.\n\n[Illustration: BOLAX WHEN HE WENT TO COLLEGE.]\n\n\"Mamma, can't I give a farewell spread for my chums?\" \"Yes, dear; have\nthem all here on Friday evening. I will get up a nice supper, and Uncle\nCarroll will show his magic lantern with moving pictures.\" \"Oh, bully\nfor you Ma, dear.\" \"Bully! What did I say about slang, my child?\" \"Oh,\nMa, dear, all the fellows at St. Thomas' use those words, you've got to\nhave something to say when you are pleased, or mad, or surprised--one\ndear old priest up there says 'Thunder and mud!' when a boy gives a\nparticularly stupid answer at a recitation.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, my son, that is just a funny expression. I don't mind your\nadopting it, since as you say, you must have some 'expressions.'\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe last evening at home had come. Bo's trunk was packed and the family\nhad assembled in the dining room to have a nice old-fashioned supper.\nTheir boy was going away, but the grand harmony of the evening was not\ndestroyed. Uncle Carroll sang merry songs, Aunt Lucy played on her\nguitar, Bolax gave his best pieces on the piano, in fact, they had a\nregular concert.\n\nSomehow, Bolax felt that he had never loved his parents as he did now;\nhe thought his mother's face so matronly, yet so gentle, was the\nsweetest face he ever saw. He bid \"good-night\" quite bravely, but found\nit hard to suppress his sobs as he clung to his mother's neck, for our\nlight-hearted boy was tender and loving as a girl.\n\nEarly next morning the house was astir. Hetty packed a basket of lunch\nfilled with everything she knew the boy liked. Farewells were spoken,\nthe carriage drove up and Mr. Allen accompanied his son to New York,\nwhere he placed him on the train bound for Quebec.\n\n  L'ISLET, P. Q., CANADA, September 15th.\n\n_My Dear Papa_: I hope you are well, and that business will soon steer\ntowards prosperity. When you left me in the car, I had to wait about\nthree minutes, then I felt the train start.\n\nAs it gained speed, we darted through about fifty little tunnels, and\nbetween stone walls.\n\nWhen we got into Connecticut, we passed a series of little bays, which I\nafterwards found out were the inlets of the sound. We made our first\nstop at Meriden, where a crowd of New England girls got on the train;\nthey wore neat golf suits and carried golf sticks. I thought how nice\nCousin Madge would look in such clothes. None of them were pretty, but\nall were as neat as new pins. All along the railroad was to be seen\n\"ads\" of pills, bicycles, soap and sarsaparilla.\n\nAs we pulled into Hartford, we passed the Pope Manufacturing Company,\nbut it does not resemble the fine pictures they have in their \"ads.\"\n\nI only got out of the seat you put me into once, and that was to get a\ndrink. When I got into Springfield, that baggage man was nowhere to be\nfound, neither was the conductor, so I gave the brakeman the cigars you\nleft for them.\n\nThe brakeman then took me to the conductor of the Pullman car; this\nfellow looked the image of me, only taller, and he greeted me heartily\nwhen he found that I was to be in his charge.\n\nI bought sandwiches here, and it's lucky I did, as the roast chicken\nMamma put up for me, only did for one meal; it was so good, I couldn't\nstop eating once I began it.\n\nWhen I got on the train, it was made up of one baggage, two day and\nthree sleeping coaches, but when I awoke in the morning, or really in\nthe night, to my surprise I found that we had changed from the middle to\nthe end of the train. Now, for the incidents of the night. About 9.30 P.\nM. I got Billy, the porter, to make up my berth and I went to sleep\nafter a hard tussle with the rough sheets and blanket. At one o'clock, I\nwas dreaming of home and of mother, as the song says, when all of a\nsudden I heard our village fire whistle blow--I jumped out of bed, and\nthen found to my disappointment that I was five hundred miles from home\nin a Pullman sleeper that had bumped into something, and every one was\nmaking a racket enough to wake the dead. We got another engine after\ntwenty minutes solo, and continued our journey through the high\nmountains of Vermont. I dozed again and when I awoke, daylight was just\npeeping out from the east; the frost was on every blade of grass and on\nevery rail and tie; the trees seemed to draw the steam from the engine\nwith their leaves, and then it became a thin veil of frost; thus while\nstanding on the back platform at 4.50 A. M., I could see our route for\nmiles and miles, winding and meandering through the forests of the Pine\nTree State.\n\nWe passed beautiful lakes by the half dozen, flew over high trestle\nbridges, that look as if scarcely able to bear the weight of the train.\nI saw cow-protectors at several crossings, these when the cow tries to\ncross the rails, split its hoof and she has to \"back.\"\n\nWhen we reached Sherbrook, I amused myself standing on the back\nplatform, pretending I was \"Bryan\" and posing for the admiration of a\ncrowd of boys who were at the station. When we were starting again,\nthere was a bump and a crash; I looked out, but all I could see was a\nsmashed tool box and tools scattered in every direction.\n\nThe porter was in the baggage car when they opened trunks, he told the\nInspector I was going to school and to let my trunks pass, which he did.\n\nAs we neared the end of our journey, I was the only passenger in the\nPullman car, so the conductor and the brakeman took me into a little\nstation to get breakfast. My, but it was good! It was composed of tender\nbeefsteak, fine coffee, the kind only French people know how to make,\npotatoes, bread and butter. I handed the waiter fifty cents, which was\nthe price, and cheap at that, to my surprise, he gave me back a quarter.\nIt appears the little French conductor told the proprietor I was his\nbrother, then he shook hands with me, and if I hadn't laughed, he might\nhave believed the conductor and given me back the other quarter.\n\nWhen the train started again, the Frenchman, who had charge of me,\ncalled me \"old boy\" (he didn't mean the devil, of course), and he asked\nme if I wanted to ride on the engine, I accepted his offer and rode a\nhundred miles on it.\n\nI arrived safely at Levis (as my telegram stated) after passing under\nseveral long snow sheds.\n\nThe train pulled up slowly and I had a splendid view of the grand old\nfort of Quebec. It reminds me of the pictures I see of the rock of\nGibraltar, only that it has a wall with holes in it for cannon. I passed\nout into snow sheds again, which brought me to L'Islet, where a\nChristian Brother met me with a team; he got my trunk, which had\nfaithfully followed me all the way. We then started for the College,\nwhich is about two miles from the station.\n\nMy studies so far are English, Latin, French, Commercial Arithmetic,\n\"The Duties of a Christian Towards God.\" This is a book used as a\nreader. Our pleasures at this season are football (played with feet\nonly), baseball, tennis, and those games I mentioned in my letter to\nMamma.\n\nI have had only one fight, and I was brave, as you told me to be, so I\nlicked the fellow. I have made ten good friends and two enemies, but the\nenemies are big \"Nits,\" they can hit hard, but don't know how to\n\"guard.\"\n\nI am glad Dr. Carroll gave me boxing lessons last winter; they will be\nuseful to me now.\n\nI go to Mass every morning. Tell this to Mamma. Give my love to the\nfollowing friends:\n\nProfessor Rinaldi, Mrs. Carpenter and family, especially Mr. Charlie and\nSam; Hetty and Pat, all the seven boys who were my chums--Elmer Mullen,\nand the Priests at St. Thomas' College, Colonel O'Brian, Darling Mamma,\nAunt Lucy, Uncles Dick and Carroll, and all the friends I have left in\ndear old Midville.\n\nExcuse writing; I have spent two hours on this letter and I'm dead tired\nof it.\n\n  Your loving son,\n\n       BOLAX ALLEN.\n\nAnswer to Bolax's first letter:\n\n  SEPTEMBER.\n\n_My Dear Son_: Your letter is most interesting, those of our friends who\ndo not know that composition is your forte, were inclined to believe it\nwas the production of your teachers. Mr. Thornton published it in his\njournal, of which I send you a copy. He predicts you will be an editor\nsome day. I tell you this to encourage you; praise is due to him who\nhonestly deserves it.\n\nBut, dear, we know composition requires no effort on your part. Now try\nto excel in what does require effort, your chirography and arithmetic,\nfor instance. There is an old Latin proverb which says, \"Patient\nindustry is worth more than lazy talent,\" meaning that your talent and\nability will amount to nothing if you do not work.\n\nMamma and Aunt Lucy are sending such long letters, so you won't mind if\nmine is short. God bless you, my dear son.\n\n  Your affectionate,\n\n       FATHER.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  L'ISLET, P. Q., September.\n\n_Dearly Beloved Home Folks_: I have passed the examination and have not\nbeen placed in the highest class. That old arithmetic is the cause.\nThen, I know almost nothing about Latin or French, but I mean to work in\nearnest.\n\nMamma, I did not hear you say your uncle was a priest. He has been\npastor of the church for thirty years. His hair is white as snow and he\nalways wears a long black robe belted at the waist, with large beads at\nhis side. When walking out, his head is covered with a wide-brimmed hat.\nI think he looks like the priest in Longfellow's Evangeline. He is very\nkind to me and says I look exactly as you did when a child.\n\nThere are two funerals here each month; every window in the Church is\ndraped in black on these occasions, and all the ornaments on the altar\ncovered with mourning. But, Ma, dear! you should hear the \"Chanteurs\"\nthat sing at the Mass for the dead. They are four old men with cracked\nvoices. The first time I heard them, it was so awful that I really\nthought their shouting and squeaking was done purposely to scare away\nthe devil from the corpse.\n\nOn Sundays the College boys sing in the choir; if I only could read\nLatin, I could serve Mass and sing too. Latin is used more than French\nin saying prayers.\n\nThe College grounds slope down to the St. Lawrence, the river is very\nwide and beautiful, islands dot its surface. We have three large\nrowboats and a sailing yacht. I am well pleased with everything so far,\nexcept the \"grub.\" I miss Hetty's cooking, but I don't starve and am\njust as fat as ever.\n\nWith all the love of my heart and soul, I am,\n\n  Forever yours,\n\n       BOLAX ALLEN.\n\n\nFUN IN THE DORMITORIES.\n\nGeorge Fulton, an \"American boy,\" as they designated those who had come\nfrom the \"States,\" was always talking of the fun he had when at boarding\nschool near home. One day he called together six friends whom he could\ntrust: \"Say you French fellows; you're too tame,\" said George. \"You\nought to see the fun we had in the dormitories at the school I went to\nin the 'States.' Tonight the Brothers hold a special council, they will\nmeet in the Chapel, which being on the other side of the Campus, will\nprevent their hearing us if we have a little 'Shindig' in our\ndormitory.\" \"What's a 'Shindig,'\" asked Leonce de Vean. \"Something you\nknock de shins?\" \"Ha, ha, you little French Crapeaud. I forgot you kids\ndon't understand English slang, but you'll see what it is tonight.\"\n\nAs he was entering the Study Hall, Bolax saw Harrison and laughingly\ntold him there was to be an awful \"lark\" in the dormitory. \"We're going\nto have no end of fun.\" \"Are you?\" said Harrison. \"Well if it gets\namusing, come to my room and tell me, and I'll go down and look on.\"\n\nIt was Brother Isadore's night on duty. He walked slowly up and down the\nrange of the dormitories until every boy seemed ready to get into bed,\nthen he put out all the candles (there was no gas to be had and the\nBrothers would not trust coal-oil lamps to boys). So long as they were\nunder surveillance, the boys observed the utmost quiet and decorum. All\ncontinued in order until Brother Isadore passed out through the\nlavatory, one of the boys following him as a scout, had seen the last\nglimmer of his hand-lamp disappear around the corner at the foot of the\nstaircase, and heard the library door close behind him.\n\nAfter that, as Brother Director was obliged to preside at the Council,\nthe boys knew they were safe from disturbance, and the occupants of the\nlarge dormitory were the first to stir.\n\n\"Now for some fun,\" said George, starting up, and by the way of\ninitiative, pitching his pillow at Bolax's head.\n\n\"I'll pay you for that when I'm ready,\" said Bo, laughing, \"but let us\nlight a few candles first; however, it's bright moonlight, maybe we had\nbetter not light up, some one outside might notice our illumination.\"\n\nSeveral fellows from the dormitory came on the scene with their sconces\nlit, these they placed so as not to show through the windows. Then the\nboys began all sorts of amusements, some in their night shirts, others\nwith their trousers slipped on. Leapfrog was the prevalent game for the\ntime, but at last Henry de la Tour suggested theatricals, and they were\nagreed on.\n\n\"But we're making a regular knock-me-down shindig,\" said Fulton,\n\"somebody must keep guard.\"\n\n\"Oh, old Brother Isadore is safe enough in the Chapel; no fear of\ndisturbing him if we were dancing Jim Crow,\" answered Bolax.\n\nHowever it was considered safest to put some one at the top of the\nstairs in case of an unexpected diversion in that direction, and little\nLeonce consented to go first. He had only to leave the lavatory door\nopen and stand at the top of the staircase, then he commanded for a\ngreat distance the only avenue in which danger was expected.\n\nIf any Brother's lamp appeared in the hall, the boys had full three\nminutes' warning and a single loudly whispered \"cache-cache\" would cause\nthem to \"lay low,\" so that by the time of their adversary's arrival they\nwould, of course, be all fast asleep in bed, some snoring in an alarming\nmanner.\n\nSo at the top of the stairs stood little Leonce shoeless and shivering\nin his night shirt, but keenly entering into the fun.\n\nMeanwhile the rest were getting up a representation of the \"Grande\nDuchesse\" pushing the beds together for a stage and dressing up the\nactors in the most fantastic apparel. Fulton took the part of the Grande\nDuchess and sang \"Voici le sabre de mon p\u00e8re, Tu vas le mettre a ton\ncot\u00e9,\" etc. All joined in the chorus as loud as they dared.\n\nBolax made a famous \"General Boome,\" because he was so stout; his\ncostume consisted of his night shirt, with a red woolen scarf around his\nwaist; on his head was a crimson silk handkerchief, which was very stiff\nand stood up in a point. His cheeks were covered with corked whiskers\nand mustaches. He sang:\n\n    Piff, Paff, Pouf,\n    Rut-a-pat-a poom,\n    Je suis moi le G\u00e9n\u00e8rale Boome!\n    I am the great General Boome!\n\nwhile he strutted up and down the aisle with a dust brush for a sword.\n\n\"I say,\" said Leonce, \"it is very cold standin' here, won't some one\nrelieve guard?\" After waiting a few minutes longer, he felt sure there\nwas no danger, and therefore ran up to Harrison's room.\n\n\"What's up,\" asked Harrison. \"Oh, we've been having leap-frog and 'La\nGrande Duchesse.' I'm keeping 'guard,' but it's so cold, I thought I'd\nrun up to your study.\"\n\n\"Little traitor, we'll shoot you for a deserting sentinel.\"\n\n\"There's no danger of being caught; besides, the fellows are making less\nrow now.\"\n\n\"Well, let us go down. I want to see the fun, too.\"\n\nFulton, as Grande Duchesse, was draped artistically in a sheet, which\ntrailed behind him, while a blue scarf decked his fair head. Placing\nhimself in an attitude of intensely affected melodrama he was singing:\n\n    Je T'ai Sur Mon Coeur, etc.\n    I have thee near my heart.\n\nSuddenly his foot caught in his long trail and landed him on his back.\nThis scene tickled the audience immensely, and was greeted with shouts\nof laughter. \"Cache-cache!\" shouted Leonce and took a flying leap into\nhis bed.\n\nInstantly there was a bolt in different directions; the candles dashed\nout, the beds pushed aside, and the dormitories at once plunged in\nprofound silence, only broken by heavy breathing of the sleepers, when\nin strode Brother Director.\n\nHe stood for a moment to survey the scene. Every boy was in bed, but the\nextraordinary way in which the bed clothes were huddled about, told an\nunmistakable tale.\n\nAs the Brother for a moment crossed over to the lavatory, he heard some\none move. \"Who's there?\" said he. It was Harrison trying to sneak back\nto his room; seeing he was caught, he came before his angry master.\n\"Harrison, is it? I am not surprised, go to your room, I will settle\nwith you tomorrow.\"\n\nPassing again into the large dormitory, Brother heard nothing but the\ndeep snores of Fulton, and instantly fixed on him as the chief culprit.\n\"Fulton.\"\n\nNo reply, but steady music from that Worthy's bed. \"Fulton!\" he called\nstill louder and more sternly; \"you sleep soundly, sir, too soundly, get\nup directly,\" and he laid his hand on the boy's arm.\n\n\"Allez-vous en, ce n'est pas encore temps de se lever.\" [Get away from\nhere, it's not time to get up.]\n\n\"You speak very good French when you're asleep, but the shamming will\nonly increase your punishment.\" The wiley Fulton stretched himself\nlazily, gave a great yawn, and then awoke with such an admirably feigned\nstart at seeing Brother Director, that Bolax who had been peeping from\nover the bed clothes, burst into an irresistible explosion of laughter.\nThe Brother swung round on his heel. \"What! Allen! get out of bed, sir,\nthis instant.\" Bolax forgetful of his disguise sheepishly obeyed, but\nwhen he stood on the floor, he looked so odd in his crimson girdle and\ncorked cheeks, with the light of Brother's lamp shining on him, that the\nscene became overpoweringly ludicrous to Fulton, who now in his turn was\nconvulsed with a storm of laughter faintly echoed from other beds.\n\n\"Tr\u00e8s bien mes amis,\" (very well, my friends!) was Brother Director's\nsarcastic remark, for he was now thoroughly angry, \"you will hear from\nme tomorrow.\" He then walked away with a heavy step.\n\nNext morning, Mass was no sooner over than the boys were summoned to the\nStudy Hall. Brother Director began with: \"I have a few words to say to\nyou.\n\n\"I find there was the utmost disorder in the dormitories last night.\nCandles were lighted at forbidden hours, and the noise was so great that\nit was heard through the whole building. I am grieved to see you cannot\nbe left alone even for a few hours without taking advantage of my\nabsence, and that some of the older boys, far from using their influence\nto prevent those infractions of discipline, seem inclined to join in\nthem themselves, forgetting their position in school and abetting the\nfollies of children. You, Mr. Harrison, shall be deprived of a privilege\nwhich you have abused, as a punishment for your conduct last night, you\nwill give up your private study until the end of the term.\n\n\"Fulton as the ringleader ought to be caned, but as this is his first\nyear, I will give him instead three days in the Cachot.\n\n\"Allen and the other little fellows who were led by him, shall be\ndeprived of recreation for one week. Now, boys, just let me ask you if\nyou have not enough legitimate pleasures without resorting to such\nfooleries as that of last night?\n\n\"In our schools the Brothers make it a practice to enter into all\namusements with our pupils. This summer Fulton and the other American\nboys saw how we went rowing with you, we join in your football games, we\neven play marbles with the little fellows, but how would a Christian\nBrother look dressed up as Master Allen was last night?\" Here there was\na perceptible smile on Brother Director's face, which gave license for a\ngeneral titter from those who had seen the costume of \"General Boome.\"\n\"Now we, as Christian Brothers, are bound to teach all who come under\nour jurisdiction to be Christian gentlemen, and we use our best\nendeavors to that end.\n\n\"We want all to be happy with us, no boy must remain in this College who\nconsiders he is treated unjustly or harshly, but we will not allow our\nrules to be broken or our authority set aside on any consideration.\n\n\"Now you may all go to breakfast.\"\n\nAfter breakfast Honor\u00e9 Bernier and several of the French boys\ncongratulated the \"Americans\" on getting off with so slight a\npunishment. You may thank your stars it is Brother Benedict, who is\nDirector, he is so lenient; if you had been here in Brother John's time\nyou would all have gotten a dose of Extract of Rattan.\n\n  OCTOBER 31ST.\n\n_Dear Mother_: Our whole dormitory got into a scrape for \"cutting up\nshines\" when we should have been asleep. I did not realize how foolish\nit was to take fun out of time, until Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9 gave me advice on\nthe matter.\n\nI promised him I would keep all the rules in the future and try for the\nmedal. I have started in, and although I find it hard work to keep from\nmischief, I manage to save my fun for recreation hour.\n\nI have joined the Society of St. Aloysius; that means great watchfulness\nover myself to keep from offending God in the least manner.\n\nDarling Mother, I hope you will have reason some day to be proud of your\nloving son,\n\n       B. ALLEN.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nLETTER FROM A FRIEND.\n\n\n  PALM BEACH, November 1st.\n\n_Dear Master Bolax_: When you receive this letter you will say who is\nthis lady? I never knew her, so I must introduce myself. I am a very old\nfriend of your mother's; we were schoolmates. When you were a tiny baby\nI saw you and held you in my arms, since then I have been traveling in\nEurope and did not see your dear mother until we met down here. We often\nwalk out together, and talk of old times, but Mamma's chief topic of\nconversation is her \"boy.\" You are the core of your mother's heart, and\nshe so hopes to be able to say as you grow older, \"This is my blessed\nboy, is he not noble? I am so proud of him,\" and you will feel all the\nnobleness of your nature grow greater, for any boy who can write such\nsweet, tender letters has the Christ Child in his heart and cannot go\nfar wrong; only you let the little Pixie, a very tormenting spirit, sit\non your shoulder at times, and that is the trouble; just you work him\noff and keep him off; his name is \"Lack of Application,\" and he whispers\nin your right ear, \"don't study hard, let's have some fun; you'll get on\nsomehow.\"\n\nThen \"Lack of Application\" has a little sister, who is just as\nmischievous, her name is: \"Procrastination,\" with these two little Elves\nso close, and keeping them as constant companions is the cause of all\nour trouble. If you will whisper to the dear Christ Child to drive them\noff, and help you to put the cobbles of determination in their place,\nyou will find your pathway full of sunshine.\n\nThe Brothers, your instructors, do not mean to be severe, but are trying\nto help you drive away these two spirits with whom you have struck up\nsuch a great friendship.\n\nNow, my dear boy, you have great talent; study that you may be one of\nthe _great men_ and you will find those you think are \"hard\" upon you\nare your best friends and helpers.\n\nFor your mother's sake, who loves you better than her life, make\n_pleasure your_ friend _for_ your hours of leisure, but let Brain, Heart\nand Hands work during working hours. Seek all the knowledge that you now\nhave the chance of obtaining for the more you know of French, Music,\nMathematics and general knowledge, the greater are your chances of\nsuccess.\n\nI think I hear you say: \"Why did this lady write to me? She don't know\nme.\" Oh, yes, she does, from your letters, and your mother's description\nof you.\n\nI love boys. I have had one of my own; I know all about their funny\ntricks. I used to wish I had been a boy myself.\n\nOnce when a little girl, I kicked and yelled for an hour because I was\nnot permitted to climb a chestnut tree, and set traps for rabbits and\nplay shinney with the boys. Now don't you think I know something, having\ngone through all this.\n\nI think a letter from you to me would be a fine thing. We might have a\ntilt or two with the pen and brain, if not with the sword and lance.\n\nAs your dear mother tells me you have a loving, kind heart. I send you a\nportion of the love I give her and ask you to call me,\n\n       AUNT ANNA EUHLER.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  L'ISLET, P. Q., December 8th.\n\n_Darling Mother_: Your sweet letter was received yesterday and my heart\nbeat with joy on seeing it.\n\nBrother will let me have all the books and papers you can send. I would\nlike to renew my subscription to Harper's Young People. I have read all\ndear Father Finn's books over again, and enjoyed them as I did the first\ntime. I know you are under great expense on account of Papa's illness,\nso do not exert yourself trying to send me Christmas money, if it\nbecomes necessary I will do without going anywhere or getting anything.\n\nThere will be a few boys here to stay over Christmas and New Year, so I\nwill have a little fun, although not as much as if I went to Quebec, St.\nAnne, St. Eugene's, Cape St. Ignac or Trois Pistolets.\n\nBrother Director has told the Brother who cooks to clean the butter for\nme, he will put it in water and mash it, thus withdrawing the salty\ntaste and black particles.\n\nI now have a book called \"Horsfield's Method of Learning French\nLanguage,\" and I think it will help me very much. It has the French on\ntop and the English underneath, as:\n\n  Il est fou, etc.,\n  He is fool.\n\nIt also has conversation, as:\n\n  Vous avez des cheveuz rouge,\n  You have the hairs red.\n\nDon't you wish I could write as well as the fellow who addressed this\nenvelope? The strongest boy in the school is Adolph Bernier, and he is\none of my best friends. If he had the nerve of Dr. Carroll he could lick\nthe world.\n\nHis muscle is almost three times as large as Doctor's, and his legs\nabout eighteen inches round.\n\nThe wind howls around here, and the snow is above the fences. We walk on\nit with snow shoes.\n\nMy love to Papa. Could you send me some alligator's eggs?\n\n  Your loving son,\n\n       BOLAX.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  PALM BEACH, December.\n\n_My Noble, Generous Boy_: Your letter touched Papa to the heart, but\nthere will be no necessity for your making such a sacrifice.\n\nIt would grieve me to have my child so far away from home, without the\nmeans for having a pleasant Christmas. Uncle wrote to say he would\nattend to your holiday pleasures, and Papa now sends ten dollars.\n\nWe laughed so heartily at your description of how the butter was washed\nfor your benefit.\n\nDearie, do you remember the stories old Colonel O'Brien used to tell us\nof his campaign during the Civil War? How once he was nearly\nforty-eight hours without food, and was glad to eat an old piece of\nham-fat, which he saw a darkey throw out on the grass as he rode past?\n\nColonel told us it was the spirit of self-control he had learned while\nat College that enabled him to bear hunger, cold, privations of all\nkinds, while in the army. Of course, the food is not expected to be as\ndainty as at home, but it is always wholesome; no Catholic College would\ngive bad food to the children entrusted to its care. I tried to get the\nalligator's eggs, but the darkies tell me that it is a hard matter to\nfind them; one old fellow told me: \"Dem ugly beasteses loves dere young\nlike de dogs and cats do, dey hide dere eggs and watches round when de\ntime comes for de little ones to be hatched out; you don't better be\nnear at dat time hunten' eggs or young ones, de mudder would snap you up\nin half a minute.\"\n\nI have some curious shells which I will give you when I see you; they\nwould only be destroyed among so many boys, if I sent them.\n\nPray for Papa, not forgetting your loving mother.\n\nP. S.--You ask me to describe Palm Beach, so I send the advertising\npamphlet. The description given therein is a perfect pen-picture of the\nplace, much better than I can give. I am Papa's amanuensis and he has so\nmany business letters to send I have little time for other writing, with\nlove,\n\n       MAMMA.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  DECEMBER 29.\n\n_Bien Ch\u00e8re Maman_: Such a happy Christmas as I have had. At midnight I\nwas awakened by the Parish Church bells chiming the Adeste Fidelis.\n\nThe Midnight Mass was celebrated in the College Chapel, because the snow\nis so deep, Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9 had announced to the Congregation that the\ngrand High Mass would be at 6 A. M. in the Parish Church.\n\nI assisted at the Mass in the Chapel. It was my first Midnight Mass, and\nI felt awed by the solemn ceremony.\n\nThe grand High Mass was sung by four gentlemen from Quebec. Brother\nwould not let me get up for it, but I attended Vespers in the evening;\nthey had the same choir as at the morning service, with a band of music.\n\nAt nine o'clock we were invited to breakfast in the Brothers' dining\nroom. At each \"cover\" was a box of bonbons from Brother Director and our\nletters from home.\n\nDear Ma! I was so surprised I cried. I opened your dear letter first,\nreally I don't know how to thank you and dear Papa.\n\nAunt Lucy and Uncle Carroll sent me ten dollars, Uncle Dick, five. I\nfeel as rich as a millionaire, with my twenty-five dollars.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  JANUARY 20.\n\n_Dear Mamma and Papa_: As I was writing the above, Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9 sent\nfor me to go with him to Quebec. You may be sure I jumped at the offer.\n\nWe put up at the Sulpician Seminary. We went to see several beautiful\nchurches.\n\nNotre Dame de Victoire, built in the time of Louis XIV as a votive\noffering in thanksgiving for a victory gained over the English.\n\nThe very same flags and trophys captured then are still preserved in\nthis church.\n\nWe saw the ice palace, on the summit of a hill, it was illuminated by\nelectricity, and reminded me of Aladin's Castle in the fairy tale.\n\nNo one was allowed to go into it, but you could look in at the windows\nand doors, and see the wax figures dressed in fancy costumes.\n\nYou should have heard the joy bells, and the booming of the cannon from\nthe citadel ushering in the New Year.\n\nThere was no discordant clang, no ear-splitting fog horns as in New\nYork, but most of the churches having chimes, made an inspiriting\nmelody.\n\nThe Basilica played the Te Deum, Adeste Fidelis, and the National\nAnthem.\n\nWe had midnight Mass in the Seminary, and no one went to bed until near\nmorning.\n\nI must tell you about a little girl we met in the street. She was\ncarrying a doll in her arms when she slipped and fell; the doll was\nbroken to pieces, the poor little thing knelt on the pavement and looked\nsadly at it, then bursting into tears and raising her eyes to heaven,\nshe cried out: \"Sainte Vi\u00e8rge mon seul enfant est mort!\" (Holy Virgin,\nmy only child is dead!)\n\nIt went to my heart to see her, so I picked her up, and tried to comfort\nher; I took her to the nearest shop and bought another \"child,\" when I\nplaced it in her hands, her eyes fairly danced with delight. \"Oh,\nmesieu! I tank yo! No English speak.\"\n\nMonsieur Le Cur\u00e9 gave her his blessing. As she was leaving the store she\ntook up the broken doll, we asked her what she wanted with the old,\nbroken thing. \"Ah, mesieu, one does not throw away dead children; they\nmust be buried.\"\n\nThe people here are so full of faith; you will see well-dressed\ngentlemen and ladies stop to say the Angelus in the street if they hear\nthe bell ring.\n\nI pray our dear Lord, that you, Papa, and all I love may have a happy\nNew Year.\n\n  Your affectionate son,\n\n       B. ALLEN.\n\nAfter Christmas holidays it was difficult for the boys to settle down to\nstudy. The good Brothers, who had not forgotten their own boy-life,\nunderstood this and did not draw the reins of discipline very tight for\nthe first few days.\n\nBrother Director made a very pleasant and sensible address to the\njuniors on the duty and benefits of being diligent in study. At the\nclose of his \"talk,\" as he termed it, he said:\n\n\"And now boys, I have something to offer you by the way of spurring your\ndiligence. Three beautiful silver medals have been placed in my hands by\nthree gentlemen living in Quebec. These medals are for your competition.\nIf they were intended as rewards, I would not be a party to their\nbestowal. I want my pupils to feel that hard, honest study carries its\nown reward with it. Study puts you in possession of knowledge, which is\npower, strength, influence and pleasure.\n\n\"These are rewards to satisfy any virtuous boy without the addition of\ngifts. Boys of your age lag a little sometimes, and perhaps need\nsomething tangible to help them on. I hope these medals will keep you\nall up to your mettle, and that although only three of you can win them,\nall will prove yourselves worthy of them. One is for keeping the rules\nof the College. One for Composition--English or French. One for him who\nshall pass the best examination in all branches of study.\n\n\"You are now dismissed until tomorrow morning, when I shall expect you\nto be ready to begin work in earnest.\"\n\nThe boys set up a grand huzza for Brother Director, and then dividing\ninto groups were soon scattered over the grounds or seated under the\nsugar maple trees.\n\nAll the boys made determined resolutions to win the prize. Bolax was\nespecially anxious, because his father had objected to his coming to\nCanada, and he wanted to show that his mother's choice of a College was\na success.\n\n\nLETTER TO PAPA.\n\n_Dear Papa_: Now I am in another scrape. The fellow that took things\nfrom the table has been found out; I can't imagine how. But he declares\nI told Brother Isadore on him. I said it wasn't true. He got red in the\nface and called me a hypocrite; said I pretended to be a saint because I\ngo to Holy Communion every week. Papa, I never pretended to be a saint.\nIt isn't agreeable to have people think you're worse than you really\nare.\n\n  Your loving son,\n\n       B. ALLEN.\n\n\nPAPA'S ANSWER.\n\n_My Dear Son_: How is a boy to become a manly man if he has everything\nand everyone about him \"agreeable.\" I did not send you to College just\nfor the French and Latin merely. I could teach you those languages, and\nin fact, all your other lessons if I chose. I send you that you may get\nsome knocks, and bruises; that you may learn to bear annoyances with\npatience and manliness.\n\nAs long as you live in this world you will meet with people who will\nmisunderstand and misjudge you. But what of that? You have and always\nwill have, if you deserve it, friends who appreciate and love you, who\nwill make the best of your good qualities and the least of your bad\nones. Above all, you can have the friendship of God by faithfully\nkeeping His Commandments.\n\n  Your affectionate\n\n       FATHER.\n\n\nLE GOURMAND.\n\nFor some weeks since the boys returned after Christmas holidays, Brother\nJulien, who had charge of the dormitories, complained of finding scraps\nof cake, apple cores, etc., hidden behind the water tank in the\nlavatory; no one could tell who placed them there. Fulton and Allen\nknew, but would not inform, although both were very often disturbed by\nhearing Hyacinth Laforge munching apples in the bed next them.\n\nOne morning Brother Director came into the Refectory looking very stern.\n\"I will thank the young gentlemen as they pass from the room to turn\ntheir pockets inside out,\" was the bland invitation that filled\neverybody with amusement or consternation, as the case might be.\n\nThere was a good deal of laughing and joking, as the boys filed out of\nthe room and a great display of knives, pencil, bits of string, etc.\n\nAt last the guilty one took his turn. Out came apples, crumbs of cake,\nnuts, a little of everything.\n\n\"So it seems we have a thief among us!\" Brother Director spoke in a very\nsevere tone of voice.\n\n\"I didn't suppose you would begrudge me an apple or two,\" said the boy,\nthrowing the contents of his pocket defiantly on the table.\n\n\"Nor do I. If you had come to me or to the Brother Procurator, and said:\n'I am a greedy fellow; I want to eat all I can hold at the table, and\nhave something to fall back on between times,' you would have been amply\nprovided. But what is that bulging out under your jacket? Open it\nimmediately.\" Hyacinth slowly and with a dogged air, unbuttoned his\nvest, when, to the astonishment of the Brother, and the great amusement\nof the boys, out came a whole pie.\n\nSuch a laugh as followed! Brother Isadore, who was standing near,\ntouched the pie, and finding it was still warm, asked when he had\nmanaged to capture it. The cook answered the question by coming on the\nscene, saying: \"That boy ran through my kitchen a minute ago, shouldn't\nwonder if he had taken something, he's always sneaking round.\"\n\n\"Here Brother, here's his plunder,\" said the Director, \"Ce n'est bon que\npour les poules maintenant!\" (It is only fit for the chickens now),\nanswered the cook, who was very much provoked.\n\nAfter the laughter had subsided, Hyacinth received a severe and\nmortifying reproof.\n\nBrother Director said: \"Since eating seems to be your chief aim in life,\nand to save you from stealing, your bed shall be moved into the little\nclothes room and a plate of cakes and apples placed so that you can\nmunch all night if you wish, without disturbing the rest of the\ndormitory.\" The boys passed out laughing. It is needless to add that the\napples and cakes were beside the greedy one, every night until he was\nsick of the sight and smell.\n\n\nFRENCH LETTER.\n\nMrs. Allen was very anxious that her son should write a letter in\nFrench, so to please her he sent the following:\n\n  COLLEGE DE L'ISLET, Janvier 7.\n\n_Bien Ch\u00e8re Maman_: Votre card de postal etait recu hier et je l'ai lu\navec beaucoup de playsir.\n\nJe suis toujour content a recevoir vos lettres, parceque vous est mon\npremier amour, je vous aime plus que tout dans le monde et dans le ciel\nexceptey le bon Dieu et la sainte Vierge.\n\nS'il vous play, envoyer moi de l'argent pour achetey du sucre blanc. Je\nn'aime pas le sucre brune.\n\nComme ceci est mon premier lettre en fran\u00e7ais, si vous play ne fait pas\nle _fun_ a mes fautes.\n\nJe suis avec tout l'amour de mon coeur votre fils.\n\n       B. ALLEN.\n\nTRANSLATION OF LETTER.\n\n_My Dear Mamma_: Your postal card was received yesterday and I read it\nwith much pleasure.\n\nI am always so glad to receive your letters, because you are my first\nlove, my own dearest mother!\n\nI love you more than anything in this world or in Heaven, except the\ngood God and the Holy Virgin.\n\nIf you please, send me some money. I want to buy some white sugar, as I\ndon't like the brown sugar they give here.\n\nAs this is my first French letter if you please don't make fun over my\nfaults.\n\nI am with all the love of my heart,\n\n  Your son,\n\n       B. ALLEN.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  PALM BEACH, FLA., January.\n\n_My Very Dear Child_: Papa and I are much pleased with your effort at\nFrench letter-writing, you spell as the words are pronounced, but you\nwill soon learn to correct that. Don't forget accents. They are as\nimportant as letters in writing French. I enclose two dollars for the\nsugar.\n\nPapa is improving in health and spirits in this delightful climate. I am\nwriting at an open window, with the odor of roses and Jessamine wafting\ninto my room.\n\nDearest make good use of your time. Papa is particularly anxious about\nyour arithmetic, and you know that's your weak point. We are so pleased\nwith the \"gold certificate,\" it proves you are doing your best. Pardon\nthe brevity of this letter, Papa is waiting for me to go and watch the\nalligators sporting in the water, but we won't let them get a bite at\nus.\n\n  Your loving mother,\n\n       M. ALLEN.\n\nP. S.--I should not have said \"sporting,\" for alligators are sluggish\nbeasts, but often may be seen in the mud in clusters, a tail-switching,\nor a head raised, on the watch for prey.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  L'ISLET, January 15.\n\n_Bien Ch\u00e8re M\u00e8re_: I have just received a Christmas gift from that old\nlady we always called \"Madame.\" You know she never would say my name,\nalways calling me \"Bon Homme.\"\n\nThe following verse is written on the fly-leaf of the book she sent.\nDon't you think it cute?\n\n    Sans que je te nomme,\n    Mon petit \"Bon Homme,\"\n    Je m' adresse au ciel;\n    Et je te souhaite\n    Une belle f\u00eate,\n    Un heureux Noel,\n    Un coeur pur et sage,\n    Voil\u00e0 le pr\u00e9sage,\n    D'un bonheur re\u00ebl.\n\n       MADAME.\n\nAvec beaucoup d' amour je suis votre fils.\n\n       B. ALLEN.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Bien Ch\u00e8re M\u00e8re_: Vous me demandez encore une autre lettre en fran\u00e7ais!\nWhew! How am I to manage it? Why on earth do they have male and female\nverbs, and adjectives, and spell the participles differently at every\nturn. It's no use, I'll never do it! Brother Director tells me I read\nwell, talk well, pronounce well, that ought to be enough.\n\nHier j'aid\u00e9 le fr\u00e8re Pascal, qui est le cuisiniere de porte le bois dans\nla cuisine, without thinking, j'ai laisser tomber les morceau de bois\ndans un chaudron de soup.\n\nLe bon fr\u00e8re didn't get mad, he just said: \"Tu a fais ton mieux mon\npetit, voici des pommes en payment de votre ouvrage.\" I didn't consider\nit work, it was just play.\n\nJ'ai achete' des raquettes (snow shoes) we have a fine skating rink, and\nwe play hockey every day.\n\nI had to buy new moccasins, mine were all cut after a long walk over a\nrough road. I have a new Cache-nez (muffler) and a surtout; et un\ncasquette Canadian, which covers toute ma tete et mes oreilles, leaving\nonly my eyes and nose free, so I don't feel the cold, although the\nthermometer is always below zero.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  March 5th.\n\n_Dear Papa and Mamma_: It is now three weeks since I wrote the above. I\nhave been in the infirmary, but don't be alarmed; I'm all right now. The\nway it was, the boys dared me to climb a telegraph pole covered with\nice. As I had once climbed a greased pole, I thought I could manage this\none. I succeeded somehow, though I had a hard tussle to accomplish the\nfeat.\n\nThe boys cheered and made such a racket, one of the Brothers came out,\nin my hurry to descend I fell when within a few feet of the ground, and\nbroke my ankle. Dr. Dion, a fine surgeon, set it, and placed my foot in\nplaster-of-paris. Brother Director wrote to Aunt Lucy and Dr. Carroll,\nbut not to Papa or you, as it was no use to worry you. I have had the\nbest of care, the Brother Infirmarian was a doctor out in the world and\nknows all about nursing.\n\nI am fed on \"sugar and spice and everything nice.\"\n\nMonsieur Le Cur\u00e9 sits with me every day. I could walk now if they would\nlet me.\n\nI am not losing my lessons, but keep up as near as possible with the\nclasses.\n\nBrother Director hears me the lessons. Brother Paul (the Infirmarian)\ndoes not speak a word of English, so that will help my French. Give my\nlove to dear Papa and to Aunt Euhler. I will write her a letter soon,\nher last about the tame alligator was enjoyed by the whole College. She\nsays you all eat alligator's tails, that the meat is like chicken. I\nwish you could send one up here, I'd like to taste it. Now don't worry,\nI'll soon be as well as ever.\n\nJ'ai l'honneur de me dire, avec une parfaite affection, Votre\nfils--Ahem!\n\n       BOLAX.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  EASTER SUNDAY.\n\n_Bien Cher Papa et Ch\u00e8re Maman_: I still continue strong and well, and\npray that you and dear Papa are in good health. I have really tried hard\nto study and keep the rules of the College. With this I send another\n\"Gold Certificate,\" which shows I have given satisfaction.\n\nI long so to see you as the time approaches for vacation.\n\nI go to Holy Communion every Sunday and First Friday, but you needn't\nthink I am going to be a Christian Brother, or a Priest. I would be\nafraid I might get tired and cut up didoes like that Monk we read of in\nIvanhoe.\n\n  Always votre fils,\n\n       BOLAX.\n\nP. S.--The Monk's name was Friar Tuck. I remember Uncle Dick telling\nabout him.\n\n    \"Hurrah, Hurrah! for vacation's coming,\n    And the weeks of Jubilee!\"\n\n\nAWARDING PRIZES.\n\nThe weeks rolled on in spite of the oft-repeated saying among students,\n\"Vacation will never come.\" The examinations began on June 15th; quite a\nnumber of patrons attended. Bolax stood the test of examination finely,\nall things considered, but his former lack of application showed itself\nin several things, particularly arithmetic.\n\nIn addition to the three medals given by the gentlemen, a prize had been\noffered for the best declamation. All prizes were to be awarded at the\nclosing exercises on Commencement Day.\n\nThe large exhibition hall was crowded on that afternoon, which was a\nregular fete for the people of L'Islet. Great pains had been taken to\ndress the hall, its walls were festooned with evergreens, and the\nspacious platform gay with flags.\n\nThe boys were dressed in white pants and blue jackets. Everything that\nskill and taste, combined with economy, could suggest, had been done to\nmake the place attractive, and the occasion pleasant.\n\n\"What uncouth creatures boys are!\" observed one young lady to a bevy of\nmisses seated near her. \"Look, there isn't one in that crowd sitting\ngracefully, they all act as if their hands were in their way.\" \"You\ndon't mean to say my brother is ungraceful, do you?\" asked Julie\nBernier.\n\n\"Oh, I'm not referring to the collegiate class; they certainly are\ngentlemen, but the juniors.\"\n\n\"I think,\" remarked Anaise Latour, \"Young Allen, one of the American\nboys, is very graceful, and he has such a pleasant expression of face.\"\n\n\"Oh, he's too fat to be graceful,\" retorted Julie Bernier.\n\nA general titter followed this remark. Before the girls were ready to\nrenew their criticisms, the call bell rang. Brother Director announced\nthat the exercises would open with an address by Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9.\n\nAfter the address came the spirited hymn, \"Nous Sommes Les Soldats de la\nFoi\" (We are the Soldiers of the Faith), played by the College band, and\nsung by all the boys.\n\nNext on the program came the declamations by the juniors, of course,\nmost of the pieces were given in French, as few among the audience\nunderstood English.\n\nGeorge Fulton came first, with a comic Piece, taking off \"Stump\nSpeaking.\" This elicited much applause, because of the excellent\nmimicry of the speaker.\n\nBolax Allen gave Joaquin Miller's \"Columbus.\" As he imitated the\nAdmiral's \"Sail on! Sail on! Sail on and on!\" he thrilled the audience\nwith the power of his voice. One could almost fancy they saw Columbus as\nhe paced his deck on the eventful night before he sighted land.\n\nMr. H. Bernier and Mr. L. Harrison entered into a comic debate as to the\nsuperior merits of their respective nations. Bernier for the French,\nHarrison for the English. The young gentlemen seemed so in earnest, got\ninto a dispute and spoke in such angry tones, that every one expected to\nsee them resort to fisticuffs. At a point when they appeared to be in a\nrage against each other, old Farmer Tourier happened to come into the\nhall, and being struck with what he thought the disgraceful conduct of\nthe boys, jumped on the stage to separate them.\n\n\"Have you no respect for Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9 and the Brothers?\" he demanded\nin a loud voice.\n\nMonsieur Le Cur\u00e9 and the other gentlemen on the platform were so\nconvulsed with laughter, it was some minutes before any one interfered.\nThe audience fairly shouted and clapped, it was a regular pandemonium.\n\nAt last one of the Brothers went up to poor old Tourier and whispered to\nhim. You should have seen his crestfallen appearance when he found he\nhad been making a laughing stock of himself.\n\nPoor old fellow, all summer the villagers laughed whenever they met him,\nas his wife said:\n\n\"On a bien ri ce jour l\u00e0, et tout le monde rit-encore!\" (People laughed\nthat day, and they laugh yet.)\n\nBrother Director appointed a committee to decide on the merits of the\ndeclaimers and to award the prize. When these gentlemen arrived at a\ndecision, Brother awarded the medals.\n\nAfter a brief address by Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9, in which he showed that the\nhighest reward of study is not a medal or prize of any kind, but the\nmental growth and power which comes from it to the student.\n\n\"Still,\" he added, \"a prize is not to be despised, because it symbolizes\nthe diligence, obedience and perseverance of the winners. Hence, my\nboys, I wish you ever to set a higher value on the character which wins,\nthan the prize which is won.\n\n\"The committee of examinations have unanimously awarded the silver medal\nfor general excellence in all studies to Louis Tascherau.\" Here cheers\nwere given for Louis.\n\n\"The silver medal for the best composition is awarded to Bolax Allen.\"\nCheers were heartily given for Bolax, and the young ladies in the\naudience could not say this boy was not able to make a most graceful\nbow.\n\n\"The committee on declamation found it very difficult to decide between\nthe speakers. There was but a shade of difference in favor of Fulton, so\nhe received the medal.\" George was loudly applauded, for he was a jolly\nfellow, liked by the whole school, masters and scholars, although\ninclined to make fun out of time.\n\nTo his utter astonishment, Bolax heard his name called again, this time\nto receive a medal for strictly keeping the rules of the College, and\ngiving good example by his upright conduct on all occasions.\n\nHuzzas three times repeated showed that he had won the good will of his\ncompanions.\n\nAs Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9 placed the medal around Bo's neck, he whispered. \"I\nwish your worthy parents were here to see your triumph.\"\n\nAfter the juniors had received their rewards, the young collegians were\nintroduced by Brother Director.\n\nSome of them spoke on learned topics, rather above the comprehension of\nmany in the audience, but evidently highly appreciated by the priests\nand other gentlemen seated on the platform.\n\nMr. Brenier received the gold cross, the highest reward given to a\ngraduate. T. Harrison and H. de Villiers received gold medals for\nexcellence in all studies.\n\nHonor\u00e9 gave the Valedictory, dressed in a long black gown and doctor's\ncap, he looked very handsome and proved himself a fine orator. He was\ninterrupted by frequent bursts of applause. At last came one tumultuous\nand prolonged, that proclaimed the conclusion of his oration.\n\nThe exercises being ended, the band struck up, and all sang the vacation\nsong:\n\n    Quel plaisir nous allous partir\n    Les vacances vont commencer!\n\nWhen the music had ceased, the students with their parents and friends,\nwere invited to partake of a simple collation. You may be sure they had\na merry time over the cake and ice cream.\n\nAfter the boys left, the College was so quiet, the halls and rooms so\nempty that Bolax and Fulton were overpowered with loneliness. They were\nthe only scholars who had to remain. Harrison, the other \"American\" boy,\nhad gone to his uncle in Montreal to spend his vacation.\n\nBolax expected soon to hear from his parents, who were on their way to\nCanada, and Fulton was invited to spend a few weeks with his chum, de\nVilliers, at the pretty village of \"Trois Pistolets.\"\n\nOn the morning of the fourth day of vacation, Brother Julien took the\nboys out for a sail on the St. Lawrence. He brought a hamper of good\nthings for luncheon, and fishing tackle to give them employment.\n\nThey were very lucky and filled a basket with fine trout, but just as\nthey were preparing to return the wind changed, and the boat was\nbecalmed.\n\nThey had made up their minds to pass the night on the water, when\nfortunately, a strong north wind filled the sails, and they steered for\nhome.\n\nIt was after dark when they got to the pier, where they found Brother\nDirector and a crowd of villagers on their knees praying \"La bonne St.\nAnne,\" to protect the boat with its precious cargo.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nBOLAX LEAVES COLLEGE FOR VACATION.\n\n\nThe following morning Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9 took both boys to the Falls of\nMontmorency; when they returned home in the evening they found a letter\nfrom Mrs. Allen, telling her son of her safe arrival in Quebec and\nrequesting him to come to the Frontenac Hotel.\n\nBolax was overjoyed, and so excited, he could not pack his trunk, so\nBrother Isadore did it for him; he took all his belongings, except his\nbooks, which he gave in charge of the Brothers, because he expected to\nreturn to College in the Fall.\n\nFulton had a very suspicious moisture in his eyes, as he shook hands\nwith his merry chum, and Bolax hated to leave him alone, but consoled\nhimself with the thought that his friend would soon visit de Villiers,\nat Trois Pistolets.\n\nMonsieur Le Cur\u00e9, and all the Brothers embraced \"le cher enfant.\" \"Au\nrevoir\" was said, then the carriage drove to the station, where Bo took\nthe train for Quebec.\n\nSuch a happy reunion of parents and son. Mr. Allen was surprised to see\nhis whilom, fat boy so tall and shapely and in such splendid health,\nnotwithstanding the \"grub\" he ate at College.\n\n\"Mamma,\" said he, \"I wonder how the Frontenac menu will agree with this\nyoung gentleman?\" \"Indeed,\" answered Mamma, \"I fear not so well as\nL'Islet bill of fare.\" Good-natured Bo did not mind being teased, but\nwhen seated at the table, his appetite showed that the Frontenac menu\nwas quite to his taste.\n\nBolax felt he knew quite a little about Quebec from his visit at\nChristmas, so he offered to conduct his father and mother to the\nprincipal churches and places of interest in the environs of the city.\n\nThey visited the monuments of General Montcalm and General Montgomery,\nthe brave French and English Generals, who were killed at the assault on\nQuebec, 1775.\n\nMr. Allen, being an Englishman by birth, took great pleasure in\nexamining the men-of-war belonging to the navy, and one afternoon\nclimbed up to the Citadel to see the Fort, and chat with the soldiers.\nMrs. Allen was not able to walk up such a height, so she was carried,\nseated on a chair strapped to a man's back.\n\nCaptain Wentworth, one of the officers, made himself very agreeable,\ntook them into the Fort, explained to Bolax how the cannons were fired\noff, and told of many interesting events relating to the history of\nCanada from the time of the English invasion, etc.\n\nMrs. Allen reminded her husband that it was growing late, and although\nthey were being so pleasantly entertained, she thought it time to take\nleave. Then Mr. Allen presented his card and thanked the officer for his\nkind courtesy. With the military salute, Captain Wentworth bowed, and\nconducting them down the steep descent, wished them \"bon voyage.\"\n\nA week was spent in Quebec, making purchases and getting a new outfit\nfor Bolax, who had outgrown all his clothing. Mr. Allen proposed going\nto one of the beautiful suburbs to give his boy an \"outing.\"\n\n\"If I had my choice,\" said Bo, \"I would like to spend the whole summer\nat Montmorency Falls; when I was there last week with Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9,\nwe dined at a small hotel, kept by friends of his; everything was so\ncomfortable and clean. There were three boys, who met us, as we were\nleaving, they had fishing rods over their shoulders, their pants stuck\ninto their boots and looked as if they had had a jolly day of it. When\nMonsieur Le Cur\u00e9 introduced me, he called them his 'old friends.' They\ninvited me to stay with them a week, but I told them I expected to be\nsent for by my parents.\"\n\n\"Well, my boy, I would prefer a place of that kind where you can have\nall the fun you want, and I a quiet time; we have had too much society\nat Palm Beach.\"\n\nSo all agreed to go to Montmorency, especially as it was at a convenient\ndistance from L'Islet and Quebec. During the seven weeks of their visit,\nBolax made himself very agreeable to every one, and became a general\nfavorite especially among the boys and girls, because he was an adapt in\nall games and always ready for fun.\n\nAmong the boarders was an invalid, who spent most of his time seated in\na corner of the piazza. Mr. Allen often entertained him, and Bolax would\nleave his companions to talk to him because he looked \"so lonely.\" His\nname was \"Cartier;\" he prided himself on being a direct descendant of\nthe famous Jacques Cartier, one of the first explorers of Canada.\n\nOne day in speaking to Mr. Allen, the old gentleman praised Bolax for\nthe thoughtful kindness he had shown him on all occasions, at the same\ntime remarking it was a pity the boy should have been given such an odd\nname.\n\n\"I admit it is an odd name,\" answered Mr. Allen, \"and I doubt if any one\never owned it before.\" \"Well,\" said Monsieur Cartier, \"it suits Bolax\nfor he certainly is an odd boy--a remarkable mixture of king's fool and\nprofound philosopher.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe nineteenth of July, St. Anne's Day, was to be celebrated with great\npomp and ceremony in the Basilica, at Beaupr\u00e9. Bolax wanted to join the\nPilgrimage going from L'Islet, but his mother and father preferred\nvisiting the shrine when there would be less of a crowd.\n\nOn the twenty-second of August, our friends put on their traveling array\nonce more, the note of preparation was struck, the destination this time\nbeing St. Anne de Beaupr\u00e9. When all was ready for their departure, they\ntook leave of the pleasant company at Montmorency, but their hostess,\nMadame Coteau, would not hear of an \"Adieu;\" it must be an \"Au revoir,\"\nsaid the kind woman. \"You must stop on your way back.\"\n\n\"That's true,\" agreed Mr. Allen, \"we will be obliged to pass this way on\nour road to L'Islet, suppose we leave our trunks and take only handbags.\nWe won't need anything more for the ten days we propose remaining at\nBeaupr\u00e9.\"\n\n\"Justement! I'm glad you thought of that. Now we are sure of your\nreturn.\" All bid a warm-hearted \"good-bye,\" too warm for Mr. Allen, who\nbeing an Englishman, could not appreciate the French custom of men\nembracing, but he submitted with grace, when dear old Monsieur Cartier\nput his arms around his neck and wished him a fervent \"God bless you.\"\n\nArrived at Beaupr\u00e9, our friends made their first visit to the Basilica.\nThey were just in time for Benediction, not wishing to disturb the\ncongregation they knelt at the door, but the Beadle (an imposing\npersonage in red cassock and bearing a staff) came and invited them into\na pew.\n\nAfter Benediction several men and women knelt before the shrine of St.\nAnne; one mother held up a child in her arms, imploring its cure, she\nprayed aloud: \"Oh! bonne Ste. Anne guerissez mon enfant, je vous suplie,\nau non de Jesus \u00e0 qui rien n'est impossible.\" (Oh, Blessed St. Anne cure\nmy child, I beg of you, in the name of Jesus, to whom nothing is\nimpossible.)\n\nMr. Allen looked on, then turning to his wife, whispered: \"There was a\ntime when I would have considered this rank superstition, but now I am\ngreatly edified, for I see the faith and devotion of people is fervent\nand sincere.\"\n\nWhen they left the Church, Mr. Allen surprised his wife and son by\ntelling them that his chief desire now was to make a retreat and prepare\nfor Baptism. Mrs. Allen was so overjoyed, she rushed back into the\nChurch, threw herself on her knees and thanked our Lord. Bolax and his\nfather followed and all knelt in prayers of gratitude for so great a\nfavor.\n\nA few paces from the Basilica stood Hotel Orleans, to which they had\nbeen recommended by Monsieur Cartier; having secured rooms, they went\nout for a walk. They climbed a hill from which they saw a beautiful\npanorama of white sails and verdant islands set like jewels on the bosom\nof the St. Lawrence.\n\nThe next morning after Mass, Mr. Allen went to the Monastery and asked\nthe Abbot to allow him to begin his retreat. The good Priest was\ndelighted to receive him and found on examining his neophyte that he was\nvery well informed on religious matters and firmly believed in all the\ntruths of the Catholic religion.\n\nWhen Mr. Allen entered on his retreat, he requested that no one should\nvisit him. His wife and son willingly agreed to make the sacrifice of\nbeing separated from him for a time, so that their beloved one might\ngive all his attention to preparing for the most important events of his\nlife, viz: The reception of Baptism and Holy Communion.\n\nBolax accompanied his mother to all the chapels and shrines in the\nneighborhood. They went up the Holy Stairs on their knees, at the top\nwas a figure of Pilate, and one of Christ standing, both life-size. In\nother Chapels were representations of the different stages of our Lord's\npassion; all the figures were life-size and so realistic as to startle\none, who came upon them unawares. In a tiny room with barred windows,\nresembling a prison, Bolax came upon the statue of Christ as He is being\ncrowned with thorns. The God-man sits with His Garments torn from His\nlimbs, which are covered with wounds; streams of blood flow from the\ndivine face; a soldier is in the act of spitting on Him, another driving\nthe thorns into the sacred head. On seeing this, the boy burst into\ntears, he felt as though he was really in the presence of his suffering\nRedeemer. Knowing the effect such a pitiful sight would have on his\nmother, he went with her everywhere, carefully avoiding the distressing\nimage.\n\nOne day while watching the sailboats landing the pilgrims, Bo heard his\nname called, looking around he saw Leon Casgrainie, his mother and\nsister, from L'Islet; they were so glad to meet again. Bo introduced his\nmother. Madame Casgrainie embraced Mrs. Allen as if she had been an old\nfriend, for these Canadians are so full of hearty friendliness. In a few\ndays the ladies were almost on intimate terms.\n\nThe day appointed for Mr. Allen's reception into the Church was August\nthirty-first. Madame Casgrainie expressed a wish to be present, so Mrs.\nAllen invited her and the children to the ceremony, which was to take\nplace at the seven o'clock Mass, in the Chapel of the Sacred Heart.\n\nThe altar was a blaze of light; tiny electric lamps of all colors were\nplaced in every available position, and full-blown roses shed sweet\nperfume over all.\n\nThe Abbot celebrated Mass. Just before the Offertory, he read the\nprayers admitting a catechumen to Holy Baptism. Mr. Allen bowed his head\nin all humility while the Priest poured upon him the saving water which\nmade him a child of God and heir to Heaven. Immediately after this the\nAbbot placed a white cope over the newly baptized, emblematic of the\npurity with which his soul was adorned by this most Holy Sacrament.\n\nAfter the Priest's Communion, Mr. Allen mounted the altar steps, still\nwearing the white robe and received our Lord for the first time. At the\n\"Domine non sum dignus,\" the tears rolled down his cheeks; he was so\novercome with the sanctity of the act, so full of faith and love for\nJesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Mrs. Allen and Bo also went to Holy\nCommunion. After Mass, Mr. Allen asked that his wife and son be admitted\nto see him. I have no words to describe the ecstasy of delight that\nthrilled their hearts when congratulating the beloved one. Mr. Allen\npressed them both to his heart in silence. When he could speak, he said:\n\"I feel our Angel child is rejoicing with us on this, the happiest day\nof my life.\" The good Abbot came to bid farewell, and shed tears of joy\nwhile bestowing the Papal Benediction on the family.\n\nA few days after the events related, our friends were compelled to leave\nthe holy place and take their departure for L'Islet; Madame Casgrainie\noffered to take them on her steam yacht, and begged them to accept the\nhospitality of her house during their stay in the village. Mr. Allen\nthanked the amiable lady, but told of his promise to return to\nMontmorency. \"That can be easily arranged,\" said Mrs. Allen. \"We are not\nin need of our trunks; after our visit to L'Islet we can keep our\nengagement with our friends at Montmorency and send Bo's baggage to him\nby express.\"\n\nThe next morning the yacht steamed out of the harbor bearing away a\njolly party, young and old were full of merriment, so true it is that a\nclean conscience makes a happy heart. The mid-day bells were chiming the\nAngelus as they landed at the pier, where Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9 and Brother\nDirector gave them a warm welcome to L'Islet. The good, old gentleman\ninsisted on having his niece and her family dine at the Parsonage every\nday, for, said he, \"I must see all I can of you, my children, it may be\nmy last opportunity.\" Bolax conducted his father and mother through the\nCollege; they were perfectly satisfied with all the arrangements, and\nthanked the good Brothers for the interest they had shown in their son.\n\nMadame Casgrainie proved herself a most entertaining hostess, she was\nlavish in her attention to her guests and made their visit to her a\nnever-to-be-forgotten pleasure.\n\nOn September 8th, the whole family went on an excursion to Isle St.\nRoch. This is a charming spot. On the island is a ledge of rocks, and\nseemingly carved on the stones can be seen the footprints of a man and\nthose of a dog; they extend the length of half a mile and are then lost\nin a maze of tangled brushwood. The pious people of the place believe\nthat St. Roch, the great hunter, came here long ago and left his\nfootprints and those of his faithful dog. The ladies and girls roamed\nover the island gathering blue berries, and the boys caught a basket of\nfine fish. While they were resting, after a substantial luncheon, a\nshrill sound floated down from high overhead. Gazing up, Bolax traced\naloft against the blue sky, the V-shaped phalanx, pointed southward of\nthe wild goose--the swift Canadian bird by its own instinct following\nafter summer heat.\n\n\"Ma, dear,\" said the boy, \"I fear that is the signal for your departure;\nthe frosts come soon after the passage of those big birds, and Papa will\nnot be able to bear our cold winds. But, oh, how I shall miss you!\" \"My\ndarling, my heart will be very empty without you, but your father and I\nmake the sacrifice of leaving you because we are sure you are under the\nbest of care, both for your temporal and spiritual interests.\"\n\nMadame Casgrainie and her daughter comforted Bolax, promising to have\nhim at their house as often as the Brothers would permit. \"After all,\nBo,\" said Leon, \"you are better off than most boys, even if you are a\nthousand miles from home; you have your uncle, Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9, so\ncheer up and let us have a race on this hard beach. Whoever wins shall\nhave the biggest peach in the basket.\" (Peaches are a rarety in Quebec,\nand its environs and are very costly.)\n\nThat evening Mr. Allen had a long talk with his son. He gave sound\nadvice on several points, notably the following: \"Let conscience be your\nking, and never attempt to weaken or to deviate from its commands. It is\nGod's merciful messenger within you to testify of Himself, to warn you\nof danger, and point the right. Beware of trifling with conscience or of\nweakening its force. You can do so, but when you have silenced it, you\nwill be left like a man, who, on a dark night, in a strange country\nextinguishes his lantern.\n\n\"There are three words which perhaps every school boy has written as a\ntext-hand exercise, but which few lay to heart while they are following\nthe copy. They are these: 'Sin causes sorrow.' A mighty truth; would\nthat every boy would so learn it that the suffering which sin inevitably\nbrings with it might be escaped.\n\n\"Be truthful in the slightest matters; never allow yourself to\nexaggerate. Have your mind occupied always with something good, pure,\nuseful. Remember the old saying, 'A vacant mind is the devil's\nworkshop.' Beware of the slightest propensity to evil, no pleasure\nderived from sense can be compared with the tranquil joy which springs\nfrom a pure heart.\n\n\"Let me tell you, my dear child, boyhood with all its little griefs and\ntroubles, is the most joyous time of life; its very spring time when\neverything is fresh and beautiful. I did not appreciate it when I was a\nboy, but now I sometimes sigh for it. If boys who are longing for the\ntime to come when they may be men could only know what a man's life and\nwork mean, they would pray to be kept at school all their lives.\n\n\"I wish I could gain the ear of all the boys in the world, I would say\nto them affectionately, in the language of the Holy Apostle St. Paul. Be\nstrong; shun anything and everything that has a tendency to weaken your\nmental and moral life.\n\n\"For you, my beloved son, I now say: Be strong in the grace you will\nobtain by constantly and devoutly approaching the Sacraments. If the\nlove of God is the motive power of your life, you will grow from a\nnoble boy into a noble man.\"\n\nFather, mother and son sat together late into the night; then kneeling\nin devout prayer they retired to rest.\n\nAt seven o'clock on Wednesday morning, Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9 sent his\ncarriage to take his niece and her husband to the station. Madame\nCasgrainie and Mrs. Allen bade each other a tearful farewell.\n\nWhen on the train, Bolax bravely suppressed his emotion, so that the\nparting should not be too painful for his parents; then Monsieur Le Cur\u00e9\ninvited him to spend the night at his house, hoping to comfort him. In\nthe morning, our brave boy entered the College, where he found that\nseveral of his classmates had returned. Fulton, Adolph and Tardeef gave\nhim a hearty greeting; soon they were exchanging droll stories and\nmaking each other laugh at their adventures during vacation. On the\nwhole, Bolax's second year opened with pleasant prospects and under more\npromising auspices than that which had preceded it.\n\nHere we must leave our hero, asking the readers who are interested in\nhis story to pray that his future life may prove all that his parents\nare trying to make it, viz: Pure, honest and noble in every sense of the\nword.\n\nEND.\n\n\n\n\nAuthor's Notes\n\n\nTranscriber's Note: These comments are not part of the original printed\ntext of the book; they are excerpted from notes hand-written by the\nauthor in Villanova University's copy.\n\n\"This book will tell you how my children were carefully trained in their\nreligion--It is true to life. I kept a diary of all my children's\nsaying and doings and from this wrote the book.\"\n\n\"The odd name comes from the boy's father calling him bow-legs because\nas a baby he walked crooked. The boy caught the sound as 'Bolax' and was\nso called until quite a big boy.\"\n\n\n\n\nHistorical Notes\n\n\nTranscriber's Note: These notes were hand-written in Villanova\nUniversity's copy of the book by a librarian. They are not part of the\noriginal printed text.\n\nIn 1892-93 the son of Mrs. Josephine Culpeper, Osmond J., attended\nclasses at Villanova, to which reference is made in her pages.\n\nMrs. C---- lives at Wayne, Pa.; it was from thence that the little \"Bolax\"\nwas sent to St. Thomas of Villanova, to which he refers in his letter\n(p. 70). Allusions too on pp. 71, 72, 75, 82-86, 88, 97, 155-57, 159,\n163.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Notes:\n\n\nApparent misspellings in dialogue have been retained on the assumption\nthat they are intentional.\n\nThis book has many problems with quotation marks and dialogue. These\nhave been corrected where practical, but some unusual formatting\nremains. In some cases, best guesses have been made as to the correct\nplacement of missing punctuation--some situations are ambiguous.\n\nONLY A BOY (before page 1), changed \"rob use\" to \"rob us.\"\n\nPage 1, added missing chapter title.\n\nPage 3, added missing open quote before \"As for Bolax.\"\n\nPage 4, added missing quotes to separate \"said Miss Beldon, \" from the\nsurrounding quotation; also added missing quote before \"only\nI--I--hope.\"\n\nPage 5, added missing close quotes to second and third paragraphs;\nchanged \"undersood\" to \"understood\" in \"Bolax understood what his mother\nmeant by this.\"\n\nPage 6, changed single quote to double quote after \"I ha'n't got no\nchair.\"\n\nPage 7, changed \"catchism\" to \"catechism\" in \"Tom's coming to my\ncatechism class on Sunday.\" Also changed \"would'nt\" to \"wouldn't.\"\n\nPage 8, changed \"flyspects\" to \"flyspecks.\"\n\nPage 9, changed period to question mark in \"What is it now, Bo dear?\"\n\nPage 10, changed \"extinuguished\" to \"extinguished\" in \"should never be\nextinguished.\"\n\nPage 11, removed extraneous quote from \"Ma, dear!\" Ma, dear!\"\n\nPage 13, changed \"quiet\" to \"quite\" in \"the animal was quite unbroken.\"\n\nPage 14, added open quotes before \"As for you, Pete Hopkins\" and\n\"Pickaninys down Souf.\"\n\nPage 15, added several missing quotes.\n\nPage 18, added missing open quote before \"tumty-tum twang!\"\n\nPage 20, added missing close quote after \"Hurrah! for your birthday,\nsister.\"\n\nPage 22, changed \"did'nt\" to \"didn't\" and added missing period after\n\"goats feeding on such things.\"\n\nPage 23, changed \"tropped\" to \"trooped\" and \"princes\" to \"princess\" and\nremoved stray quote after \"and there's some one else,\"\n\nPage 24, changed \"some of the Mamma's\" to \"some of the Mammas.\"\n\nPage 25, added missing quote after \"smoke it out.\"\n\nPage 26, added missing quote after \"Clean-plum through.\"\n\nPage 27, changed \"Bout to 'Bout.\n\nPage 28, changed \"you're money\" to \"your money.\"\n\nPage 29, changed \"acknownledge\" to \"acknowledge\" and fixed numerous\nquotation errors.\n\nPage 30, attempted to make sense of more muddled quotation marks, adding\nmissing quotes and changing double quotes to single quotes to clarify\ndialogue within dialogue.\n\nPage 32, added missing close quote after \"That sounds like Bolax.\"\n\nPage 33, added missing close quote after \"sicked them on Nan.\"\n\nPage 35, fixed numerous quote problems.\n\nPage 36, added many missing quotation marks.\n\nPage 37, changed \"Cathechism\" to \"Catechism\" and added missing close\nquote after \"say your prayers and go to bed.\"\n\nPage 38, changed \"Asumption\" to \"Assumption.\"\n\nPage 39, added missing close quote after \"Once long ago, our dear Lord\ndied and--\" and changed \"beauitful\" to \"beautiful.\"\n\nPage 40, added some missing quotes.\n\nPage 44, added missing quotes to offset \"cried Nellie Day\" and \"said\nAunt Lucy\" from surrounding text.\n\nPage 46, changed \"getting'\" to \"gettin'\" and added missing quote before\n\"No, I just wouldn't say that.\"\n\nPage 50, deleted unnecessary quote before \"Our Father, who art in\nHeaven\" and added missing quote after \"giggling instead of saying his\nprayers.\" Changed \"nonsnse\" to \"nonsense.\"\n\nPage 51, changed single quote to double quote after \"taken by surprise\"\nand added quotes to offset \"said Bo.\"\n\nPage 53, changed \"scarcly\" to \"scarcely.\"\n\nPage 57, added missing quote after \"if a promise was broken.\"\n\nPage 58, changed question mark to period in \"\"Mamma, Elsie told a lie.\"\n\nPage 59, added missing quote after \"He shan't be whipped, he shan't\" and\nmoved quote from after \"son\" to after \"begun.\"\n\nPage 62, added missing quote after \"it hisses and cracks your bones\nand--\"\n\nPage 63, added missing quote after \"giving me a report of his conduct.\"\n\nPage 71, added missing quote after \"your rabbits.\"\n\nPage 73, added missing quotes around \"If Aunt Lucy had been home I would\nnot have been whipped.\" Added missing close and open quotes before \"I\nwouldn't let you.\"\n\nPage 74, fixed numerous quotation-related errors. Changed \"Nautlius\" to\n\"Nautilus.\"\n\nPage 75, added missing quote after \"I'll study hard.\" Changed \"broook\"\nto \"brook.\"\n\nPage 77, added missing quotes around \"we have no pupils under twelve\nyears of age;\" and around the paragraph beginning \"That's just what I\nintended proposing.\"\n\nPage 78, added several missing quotes.\n\nPage 79, added missing end quote after \"before these shrines\" and\nmissing open quote before \"you don't mean to say;\" offset \"laughed Mr.\nO'Donnel\" by adding missing quotes; changed \"demense\" to \"demesne.\"\n\nPage 80, removed comma from \"my little, man.\"\n\nPage 81, fixed several quotation issues near bottom of page.\n\nPage 83, changed single quote to double quote after \"he wasn't struck\ndead!\" and added missing quote before \"is kept so smooth and green.\"\n\nPage 84, added missing quotes after \"he didn't see the sign.\" and \"if I\nstayed long enough at College.\" Changed single quote to double quote\nafter \"Are the priests kind to you?\"\n\nPage 85, added missing quote after \"might get lost.\"\n\nPage 87, added missing quotes after \"two rats!\" and before \"where did\nthey come from?\" and around \"Well now, all that is to be done is to\ncatch them.\" Removed unnecessary quote after \"I did.\"\n\nPage 89, added missing quote after \"sending Amy to Atlantic City?\"\n\nPage 98, changed double quotes to single quotes around \"Hot box.\"\n\nPage 101, fixed quotes surrounding \"To shelter de Holy wanderers on dat\nblessed Christmas night.\"\n\nPage 102, added missing quote after \"we are not holy enough.\"\n\nPage 103, added single quotes around 'A friend of mine just happens to\nbe outside with his sleigh and I'll tell him to take you where you'll be\nwell treated.'\n\nPage 106, removed extraneous quote after \"Eleven.\"\n\nPage 108, added missing close quote after \"wayfarer.\"\n\nPage 110, changed \"entertaiment\" to \"entertainment.\"\n\nPage 111, added missing open quote before \"I'll make him feel the\nvengeance.\"\n\nPage 115, added missing quotes around paragraph beginning \"That's a good\nstory.\"\n\nPage 116, removed several unnecessary quotation marks.\n\nPage 119, changed \"meet (bring\" to \"meet. Bring\" (simplest, least\ndisruptive way of resolving a mismatched parenthesis).\n\nPage 125, removed unnecessary open quote at start of poem; changed\n\"singing'\" to \"singin';\" changed \"its\" to \"it's;\" added missing close\nquote after \"all he hears and sees.\"\n\nPage 126, changed \"singing'\" to \"singin'\" and \"there\" to \"they're.\"\nRemoved unnecessary quote after \"although'.\"\n\nPage 127, changed \"bright an fair\" to \"bright an' fair.\"\n\nPage 131, changed \"wildnerness\" to \"wilderness.\"\n\nPage 132, changed \"Cavalry\" to \"Calvary\" and corrected spacing on last\nline.\n\nPage 133, changed double quotes to single quotes around \"Prevention of\nCruelty Society\" and added missing nested close single quote on last\nline of page.\n\nPage 136, changed \"loving,son\" to \"loving son.\"\n\nPage 139, removed stray quote before \"May procession.\"\n\nPage 140, changed \"Collge\" to \"College.\"\n\nPage 147, added missing close quote after \"everlastingly punished in the\nnext.\"\n\nPage 150, changed \"darlng\" to \"darling.\" Added missing quote after first\nreference to Fabiola.\n\nPage 151, added missing open quotes to first two full paragraphs.\n\nPage 152, fixed quotes around \"Mass of the Angels.\"\n\nPage 155, removed stray quote before \"minor.\"\n\nPage 157, fixed close quote after \"But,\"\n\nPage 159, removed stray quote after \"Bully!\" and added missing quote\nafter \"good-night.\"\n\nPage 161, changed \"could'nt\" to \"couldn't\" and \"birth\" to \"berth.\"\n\nPage 164, changed \"fort\" to \"forte.\"\n\nPage 167, changed \"scones\" to \"sconces.\"\n\nPage 169, changed \"sius\" to \"suis\" and \"Couer\" to \"Coeur.\"\n\nPage 170, changed \"Whose\" to \"Who's\" and added missing open quote before\n\"you sleep soundly, sir.\"\n\nPage 171, deleted unnecessary quote after \"term.\"\n\nPage 172, removed unnecessary quotes after \"night?\" and \"consideration\"\nand added some missing quotes in the second full paragraph.\n\nPage 174, added open quote before \"don't study hard.\"\n\nPage 175, changed \"knoweledge\" to \"knowledge.\"\n\nPage 177, changed \"hearily\" to \"heartily.\"\n\nPage 181, changed \"competiton\" to \"competition.\"\n\nPage 182, added missing quotes to first two full paragraphs.\n\nPage 184, corrected quotes in last full paragraph on page.\n\nPage 185, added missing close quote after \"the rest of the dormitory.\"\nChanged \"S il yous play\" to \"S'il vous play.\"\n\nPage 187, changed \"francais\" to \"fran\u00e7ais.\"\n\nPage 188, changed \"ciusiniere\" to \"cuisiniere.\"\n\nPage 189, changed \"Carorll\" to \"Carroll.\"\n\nPage 190, removed stray quote after \"vacation's coming,\"\n\nPage 191, added missing open quote before \"Young Allen.\"\n\nPage 192, added missing close quote after \"the Brothers?\"\n\nPage 193, added several missing quotes.\n\nPage 196, added missing quote after \"L'Islet bill of fare.\"\n\nPage 197, changed \"his-ory\" to \"history.\"\n\nPage 198, changed double to single quotes around \"old friends.\"\n\nPage 199, added missing quote at end of page.\n\nPage 200, added missing quotes around \"Justement! I'm glad you thought\nof that. Now we are sure of your return.\" and after \"fervent and\nsincere.\"\n\nPage 201, changed \"arrangments\" to \"arrangements.\"\n\nPage 203, added missing close quotes after \"the happiest day of my life\"\nand \"send Bo's baggage to him by express.\"\n\nPage 205, added missing close quote after \"the biggest peach in the\nbasket.\"\n\nPage 206, added missing open quotes on several paragraphs.","title":"Bolax, Imp or Angel\u2014Which?","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":55182}