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“the day the bargal
Ing AP yasteamesto
‘yuith=*Roneysuckle, ové
whose c! litet distinction e
to take the baby out in his
Copyright, 1907, by David 0. Cook Publishing Company.
Vor. VI. No. 28. | }UBEISHED
DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., Etarn, ILLINOIS, AND 86 WaSHINGTON Sr., CrIcaco.
July 13, 1907.
Molly -Moptimer’s trip Yo The E Beach
Molly came home with a radiant face
was concluded. Mrs.
“the =-white cottage
and
that she Was the mother
Ingram, had offered her fif
Master Gerald
cents a week
arriage for a
daily airing... “And you know,I’d love to
do it for nothing,” Molly told her mother,
“Just to think of earning all that_ money
~ for having a good time.”
Walf-dollars were a little more plentiful
in the Mortimer household than dollars, it
is true, but there was never quite enough
of gither. If she did not fully. share
Molly’s ‘ raptures, Mrs. Mortimer’. was
frankly pleased with this little help. To
Molly there was nothing small about that
fifty cents a week. She discussed: various
* cherub.
ways of investment with the proud confi-
. dence of a capitalist.
Best of all, the Ingram baby was a
Ile never cried, and uncommonly
abstracted was the pedestrian who could
. Story after a time.
‘not an ordinary child.
- whenever she looked’ from. the
“triumphal procession.
for new
she said.
pass-him without a smile of admiration at
the very least. Pleasant old ladies and
sWeet-faced young mothers stopped Molly
to ask how old the baby was, and how
many teeth he had. Benignant old gentle-
men patted his cheeks and pronounced him
a fine boy. Eyen the passing chillren
nudged one another and said: “See the
baby! Ain’t he cute!” And Molly basked
in her reflection of his popularity, and
for a time all went well.
It was not that the baby became an old
One of the delightful
things about him was that he always had
a surprise in store. -Every morning Mrs.
Ingram told Molly some wonderful accom-
» plishment achieved since the previous day,
and every evening Molly carried home to
her mother some new proof that he was
But if Molly did
not tire of the-baby, she grew very tired
“of that section of the sidewalk over which
. she pushed her charge day after Cay.
Mrs. Ingram had an unreasonable fond-
ness for seeing the top of the baby carriage
window.
Lenient as she was in most things, she was
- firm on this one point—that Molly was not
to go out of sight of the house. Teopie in
_ the neighborhood were growing used to the
baby. Ilis daily airing was no longer a
Ilow Molly longed
worlds to conquer, for a street
where no one had ever seen the baby’s
-sunbeam of a face, his curls, his dimples,
\nor the entrancing. friendly smile
with
which he made the whole world welcome!
But while Molly chafed and fretted and
began to feel that she was earning. her
weekly half-dollar, she was very far from
planning for what eventually happened.
The temptation came so quickly that she
hardly had time to call it by its name. For
one afternoon Mrs. Ingram came. out with
hat and parasol, and kissed the baby with
a fervor that meant good-by.
“T’m going to make some calls, Molly,”
“T shall be back by five or half
past. Martha will get you anything you
need.”
But it was not five minutes before Mar-
tha appeared, and she, too was dressed for
the street.
“T’ve got a little shopping to
do, Molly,” she said; “but I’ be back by
half past four. You know where to find
the milk in the refrigerator.”
She was her own mistress for two full
hours. The knowledge turned Molly’s head.
She did not take time to think of anything
except to decide how to use her new lib-
erty. Where would the advent of the baby
make the greatest sensation? Wor a mo-
ment she almost decided in favor of the
park, and then her wavering choice turned
to’ the pier. If she could only be there
when the excursion steamer came in, she
was bound to be the center of attraction.
The excursionists, drifting off aimlessly
into a strange town, and on the lookout
for something of interest, would not be
likely to pass by the most beautiful. baby
in the world.
The baby carriage turned abruptly from
its usual course and started for the white
beach. And from the beginning Molly’s
hopes were realized. More than one smiled
at the baby as they passed. A pretty lady
leaned from her carriage to wave a daintily
gloved. hand, and. the baby. responded hy
brandishing his tiny fist, dotted with dim-
ples. The baby entered nobly into _ the
spirit of the thing. Ile crowed, he laughed,
he bounded on his seat like a rubber ball.
There were not quite as many people at
the beach as Molly had hoped. She made
inquiries and found that the steamer was
not due for three-quarters of an hour. Well,
it was a pleasant place to wait, she de-
cided. The blue waters of the bay broke
in ripples on: the wet sand. White sails
like large seabirds showed against the hori-
zon. The coolness of the breeze kept one
she told the little monitor impatiently.
What difference could it make, as long as
the baby was happy and could not pos-
sibly come to any harm?
Puff! Molly screamed and clutched: at
her hat. A saucy breeze, coming from an
unexpected direction, had picked it off her
head, and now it was sailing toward the
water like some new species of bird. Molly
made a rush for it.. But she was too late.
She saw it drop down into a white-crested
wave and then disappear,
“Was it your best one?” asked one of
the girls who had raced with her
“Oh, no. Just everyday.” But Molly’s
jaunty expression of unconcern was not
quite sincere. It would be hard to explain
going home bareheaded, and to replace the
lost hat would take funds she had intended
for something else. As she gazed rueiully
before her, wondering if Mrs. Ingram would
notice, and what her mother’ would say,
the girl at her side suddenly screamed;
“The baby carriage !’’
The frolicsome breeze had not stopped
with one piece of mischief. The baby car-
riage was moving straight and swiftly to-
ward the surf, the paraso{ acting as a sail.
For an instant terror held Molly rooted to
the spot. Then she flew in pursuit, but iu
her blind rush she stumbled and fell. When
she was on her feet, the carriage was on
its side in the curling waye.
“The baby! Oh, the baby! she
sepeanied.,, A man rushed by her. Molly
shut her ayes: When she opened them, the
man was returning with a wretched little
heap of wet pillows. “The baby!” Molly
screamed. In all her life could she ever
forget that moment.
“Molly!” The voice came to her joy-
9
fully. “ Molly, I’ve got the baby. Don’t
be scared.”
“O-n!” She drew a long breath and
turned at the voice.
Carrie Jones’
There was baby in
arms, laughing and waving
t her.
“T took him up the beach to show mam-
MOLLY STOOD BY, HAPPY IN HER GRATIFIED PRIDE.
from realizing the warmth of the sunshine.
Yes, it was a good place to wait.
A little circle of admiring girls had
promptly collected about the baby carriage,
and little Prince Charming held his court
as usual, Molly stood by, so happy in her
gratified pride, that it was only now and
then that her conscience had a chanee.to
assert itself) by an uneasy twinge. She
would be back long before Martha’s return,
ma. You don’t care.”
For answer Molly gathered the baby to
her. Was there in all the world a hap-
pier girl than she? Would she ever, ever
betray a trust again?
Later a brown head was nestled in the
Jap of baby’s mother.
“There, dear, you know now why I al-
ways wanted the baby carriage in sight.
You won’t blame a mother again, dear,”
And then the baby’ssmother left a kiss on
Molly’s face. i
No, she would neyer blame her again. She
knew now the mother was right, and that
a young girl does not always know’ the
safest road to take, until experience teaches
her. —
MY HEROINE,
BY IDA SCOTT TAYLOR,
She has a pretty face, because her soul is in
And pretty hands,
a minute ;
And pretty feet she has, the path is right she
chooses ;
A pretty mouth, because it gentle language
Why so? They’re idle not
A pair of pretty eyes, ber heart smiles in
their beauty
ifer every act is based on goodness, love and
duty;
scorns a life of case, her ways are kind
and pleasant,
lives not in the past, but wisely greets
the present.
She
She
has good common sense, and knows just
how to use It,
wins your confidence,
abuse it;
is a priceless gem, a diamond brightly
and never will
aming,
The very soul of truth, without~ deceitful
eeming. .
—_—-——
BETTY’S MACAROONS.
BY EMMA C. DOWD.
Whir-r-r-r-r {0 Whir-r-r-r-r! >
“Run to the door, Betty! It is prob-
ably the postman, though it doesn’t sound
like his ring.’
The next moment a squeal of happy | sur-
prise came from the front hall, and then
Betty’s call
“Oh, mamma, it’s Aunt Elizabeth!”
“T couldn’t let you know beforehand,”
the lady explained, “ for I didn’t know I
was coming myself until early this morn-
ing. George was going to New York for a
few days, and he proposed that I come
along with him and stop over with you till
he came back.
a chance to be lost, so here I am!”
“Oh, I'm so glad!” cooed Betty, cling-
ing to her aunt’s arm. “I wish Uncle
George would go to New York every week
and leave you here—don’t we, mamma?
And you’ve come just in time for my party!
Do you know I’m nine years old to-mor-
row.”
Aunt Elizabeth smiled down on her lit-
tle niece, and gave her a loving squeeze.
“T hadn’t quite forgotten,” she said; “and
Pi help you celebrate all I can.”
“Then I wish you’d tell me what I can
make for tea,” cried Betty. “ All the girls
make something themselyes — something
new, you know—and we can’t think of a
single new thing that’s easy enough for me
to make,”
“Well, my dear, do wait till auntie has
been in the house two minutes!” Betty’s
mother expostulated.
“ry
sponded, “and I’ve just the nicest ‘thing
for you—as good macaroons as you ever
tasted, and you wouldn’t have any idea
what they were made of. When I first
ate them, I guessed almost everything, and
finally had to give it up.’
“Oh, won’t that be lovely!” piped Betty.
“ And I’ll make the party gue! mayn’t I,
mamma? Annie’s stuffed dates’ and Polly
Tryon’s fig cake were so good, I was
afraid anything I could make would seem
—kind of common, you know.”
“We'll make some this afternoon,”
Elizabeth said.
Aunt
“But you mustn’t help me a bit,” Betty.
I thought it was too good:
“hat is all right,’ Aunt Elizabeth re-
