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Page 5 text:
“
The Red, Red Rose JULIA was a stall, slended, fair-complexioned girl, and as pretty as the flowers of her garden. She took such care of her flowers that people came from everywhere to see them. One day as she roamed over the beautiful paths she noticed that some sneak had been stealing her roses and daffodils. She was determined to catch the thief. A week or so later she was playing in the garden, when the gate creaked, and running to see who was there, she noticed a boy hasten- ing down the street with a bouquet of daffodils and roses. Julia called her bull dog, Joe. All she said was, Go it, Joe. The dog was soon running as fast as his legs would carry him after the boy, who was just in time to be saved by a policeman, who put the dog into the pound, and asked where the boy had obtained the flowers. The only answer was, I bought them at the flower shop for my mother. She is very ill, and I must get home. All right, sonny, run along, said the policeman. Joe was going to be put to death, but finding a collar around his neck, the policeman led the dog back to Julia. Julia explained to the policeman how that very boy was the one who had stolen her flowers, and how Joe had gone to bring the boy to her. But the boy bought the flowers, replied the policeman. Well, they were my flowers. With this, Julia burst into tears, and said, He stole them and you do not believe me. She was no longer seen for she had disappeared into the house. One afternoon, a small boy walked up the avenue with a very sad face, so sad that it looked as though his heart would break. And surely it would have had it not been for his pluck. He walked into the florist ' s shop and placed five pennies upon the counter, his very last ; bought some violets, and walked out. He walked down past Miss Julia ' s and looked at the flowers. She ' s got so many, she won ' t care, was his thought. He walked into the yard, taking no precaution whatsoever. He saw some of the most beautiful pink roses. I must have just one! Then he stared until you ' d think his eyes would fall out. He gasped aloud: A red, red rose, won ' t mother love it! He did not give a thought to how much Julia might want it, for there was only one of these wonderful roses, and Julia loved this rose with all her heart. But the rose disappeared with some more beautiful flowers. After he had picked enough he left the yard and started home.
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Page 6 text:
“
As before, he met the policeman. Sonny, where did you get the flowers, huh? I had only five pennies and bought these violets; the other, oh, I picked them in the most beautiful garden, and look ! A red rose. They are for my mother. She is awful sick. Very well, my son, but you must never again take any more flowers from other people. Well, I am going home with you to see your mother. What ' s your name, sonny? Buster. All right, Buster, lead the way. Buster led the way down a dark, dirty street but he stopped at the cleanest old house. He led the way through the front room. Not a speck of dirt could be found anywhere. In on a bed, lying motionless, was the fair, young mother. Mother, dear, I have brought you some flowers, since they are your favorite ones, and best of all, a red, red rose. The mother lay motionless. Buster spoke in vain, for his mother never moved. The policeman wiped away some big tears and said, Come, Buster, we will find your father. But 1 haven ' t any father. Oh! All right, Buster, you will stay with me for awhile. But mother ' s sick and cannot talk, so as to tell me what she wants. Buster, I am afraid your mother will never talk again. The policeman could hardly get Buster away; but finally the two were lost in the crowd. FRANCES RUTH MILLER. THE BIRD ' S SONG There is nothing so sweet as the little bird ' s song, He sings in the tree-tops all the day long; The song that he sings is a message of love Like showers of blessing sent down from above. CAROL FLAHERTY.
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