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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:43 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:43 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14116-0.txt b/14116-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..289bbea --- /dev/null +++ b/14116-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,830 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14116 *** + +DEW DROPS + +VOL. 37. NO. 7. WEEKLY. + +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS. +GEORGE E. COOK, EDITOR. + +FEBRUARY 15, 1914. + + +How Arthur Made Valentines + +By MAY G. MOOAR + + +Arthur had a box of paints given him for Christmas, and he had learned +to color pictures very prettily; so just as he was finishing the dress +of a gorgeous Japanese lady such a happy thought came to him that he +nearly spilled some yellow paint all over Miss Matsuki's gay pink +dress, in his haste to find mother and tell her about it. + +"I want to make my valentines all myself this year," he exclaimed +excitedly as soon as the yellow paint was safely back in the box, "for +now I can paint. Why can't I paint some valentines, same's Aunt +Frances did last year?" + +"Why, I think you could, dear," mother answered. + +"'Course I don't mean I could make quite such lovely flowers as she +did," Arthur went on, "but I think it would be lots more fun to do it +myself than to buy them." + +"So do I, Arthur," mother said, "and I think if you look through those +papers in the lower drawer you'll find some pictures to cut out that +would make pretty valentines. Then you could color them with your +paints and paste them on a sheet of note paper." + +"But, mother, don't valentines have some verses written on them +besides the pictures? Aunt Frances' did. Where can I get those?" + +"Perhaps I could write those for you," mother laughed, "if I tried +real hard." + +"Could you really write verses?" Arthur asked in round-eyed wonder. +"Then we'll have some lovely valentines, won't we? I'll make one for +you, and one for father, and Alice and John and Clifton and Barbara +and oh, lots of folks." + +"Well, I guess you better get to work right away, if you've such a lot +to do," advised mother, "and I had better begin on the poetry." + +It was fun to find the pictures, for there were such a lot to select +from, and by supper time Arthur had a nice pile all ready to paint +next morning. + +Two days before Valentine's day they were all done--prettily colored +and pasted on note paper with a little verse that mother had written, +printed in Arthur's very best writing. + +[Illustration: _Arthur decorates the valentines with his new paints +while mother writes the verses_.] + +"Aren't they bee-u-ti-ful," he exclaimed as he laid them in a row on +the dining-room table. + +"They are very nice, dear," mother said, "and which do you think are +the prettiest ones?" + +Arthur looked a long time at the row of little valentines and then he +said, "These two." One had a little curly-haired child carrying a big +bunch of flowers in her hand, and the verse read: + + "This bunch of roses I'm bringing, + Is a valentine for you, + To show that in storm or in sunshine + My love is always true." + +And the other valentine had a picture of two little boys carrying a +big basket between them, and this was the little verse: + + "What do you s'pose our basket holds? + Give guess one and two. + You'll never think, so I must tell: + It's full of love for you." + +"And to whom are you going to give the two prettiest ones?" asked +mother. + +An earnest look came into Arthur's eyes. + +"I fought I'd send the little-girl one to that lame boy at the corner. +I don't know him very well, but he looks kind of lonely, you said, +mother. Don't you s'pose he'd like it?" + +Mother nodded. "And who is to have the other?" + +A little hand stole into mother's, and two brown eyes full of love +were lifted to mother's face. + +"That is for you," he said. + + + * * * * * + + +"BOB'S LOST HIS TEMPER." + +Uncle Will, visiting in the family, heard this remark quite often. One +day he said to Bob: + +"I think it rather a fortunate loss, don't you?" + +"What?" asked Bob, in surprise. "It wasn't a very good one, you know. +If I were you I'd try to get a better one, and then never lose it." + +Good advice for Bob. + + + * * * * * + + +GOING ALONE. + + +"I'm afraid will have to go alone this morning, Harlis," said mamma. +"My head is getting worse instead of better. You think it will be all +right for Harlis to go, don't you, papa?" + +Mrs. Wentworth looked up inquiringly into the face of a tall man who +had just entered the room. + +"Certainly. He is big enough, and knows the way. Why not let him go?" +her husband answered. + +Harlis was quite proud to hear that opinion, and adopting something of +his papa's emphatic tone, he said, "Of course, I'm big enough, mamma. +Willie Nelson goes every single Sunday alone, and he isn't only two +weeks older than I am. You needn't worry a bit. I'll take Esther, too, +if you want me to. I'll take care of her." + +Mamma smiled a little as she answered, "No, dear, I thank you just the +same, but Annie will take care of Esther this morning. If I let you go +alone, you must promise to go straight to Sunday-school." + +"Yes, mamma," answered Harlis, very willingly. + +Proudly he walked down the street. He felt sure everyone was noticing +him. One of the newsboys ran past him and shouted, "Hello, little +chap!" and grinned. + +Mamma had said, "Be a good boy, Harlis," before he left home. He +couldn't help feeling how foolish it was for her always to say that, +but he excused her with the thought that it was probably mamma-like to +be a little anxious and worried about such things. + +"Harlis! Harlis!" + +Harlis was just entering one of the chief business streets through +which he had to pass to reach the church. He turned and saw Willie +Nelson running as fast as his little legs could carry him to catch up. + +"All alone?" Willie asked. + +"Yes." + +"So'm I. My mamma can't come to Sunday-school. She makes me go, +though. I don't care much. Let's go this way." + +"No. I can't. Mamma said for me to go just the same way I always did. +I promised." + +"Did you? My, I go the way I want to. This is just as good as any," he +added cheerfully. "Let's look in here. Ain't that fine?" + +It was a display in the candy shop they were looking at. Across the +window, hung from the gas jet by ribbons, was a huge candy cane. + +"See that," said Willie, pulling out from his pocket a five-cent +piece. "Know what I am going to do with it?" + +"Take it to Miss Beatrice for the poor little girl she told about." + +"No, sir. Going to get some candy. Five cents don't get much, though. +Not the best kind. That costs money." + +Harlis put his hand in his pocket and quickly pulled it out. But the +action did not escape Willis' sharp eyes. + +"You got any?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"Let's see. Oh, a nickel! Thought maybe it was just a penny. What a +lot ten cents would get. What kind do you like best?" + +"I like chocolate best." + +"Do you? Why, so do I. Say we get some?" + +"I don't believe mamma would like it. She said we mustn't buy things +on Sunday." + +"She'll never know. That's nothing bad, either." + +When the collection basket was passed around, Harlis looked almost +ready to cry. "Did you forget your money?" said Miss Beatrice, +pleasantly. Harlis so seldom came without it that it was noticeable. + +"Yes'm," answered the little boy, almost without thinking what he was +saying. He was so uncomfortable, and Willie was making eyes at him. + +"Never mind, bring it next Sunday," said Miss Beatrice, noticing the +flushed face and telltale eyes, and not understanding quite what it +meant. + +If mamma had not been sick, the trouble would surely have come out +earlier, because mamma would have seen in a minute that something was +wrong. After the late dinner, there was nothing to do but cuddle up in +the corner of the sofa with his books. Just as it was growing dark, +papa came down from the sick room. He found Harlis with his head +buried in the sofa cushion. + +"What's the matter?" said papa briskly, picking up his little boy. +"Lonesome? Too bad! Thought you went to Aunt Lucy's with Esther." + +"I didn't want to," said Harlis, breaking out in big, shaking sobs. + +Papa knew something was wrong, then, and by degrees the story came +out. + +Papa said very little, for he seemed to understand the real suffering +Harlis had already gone through because of his wrongdoings. + +"But the nickel was mine," said Harlis, as he and mamma were talking +it over. + +"Was it?" said mamma. "What did I give it to you for?" + +"For the poor little girl." + +"You can put it back, but you must earn it," she said. + +"Oh, I will! I will!" Harlis was only too glad to do this. "And I'll +never do so again, mamma." + +And his mamma felt sure he never would. + +--_Written for Dew Drops by Florence Maule._ + + * * * * * + + +THE LIGHT OF A SMILE. + + + If it drizzles and pours, + Is there any reason + The weather indoors + Should be dull, like the season? + There is something makes bright + The cloudiest places; + Can you guess? 'Tis the light + Of the smiles on your faces. + --_Selected_. + + * * * * * + + +Mother's Valentines + +By Elizabeth P. Allan + + +"Davie boy, I wish you would get up early to-morrow morning," said +Mrs. Forbes; "I want your help in sending out some valentines." + +Davie opened his sleepy eyes wide. "Why, mother," he said, "I did not +know that _you_ were in the valentine business!" + +"There hasn't been a fourteenth of February since I can remember," +answered his mother smiling, "that I haven't sent out at least one +valentine. Do you know what Valentine Day means, Davie?" + +"It means sending funny pictures to the other fellows," grinned Davie. + +"First of all, it means a Love Day," said Mrs. Forbes, "and valentines +are supposed to be sweethearts' love letters. But I don't see why +sweethearts should have a corner on love, do you, Davie?" + +[Illustration: _Davie helps mother deliver a new kind of valentine._] + +"What sort of valentines do you send, mother?" asked the little boy. +His curiosity had waked him up and made him forget that the hands of +the clock had left his bedtime far behind. + +"My valentines used to be made of little pictures cut out and pasted +on a card or a piece of note paper, when I was no older than you," +said Davie's mother; "and my mother used to write on them in her fine, +copy-book hand, little verses like this: + + "'The rose is red, + The violet's blue, + Sugar's sweet, + And so are you!'" + +Davie laughed aloud at the idea of his mother ever having been such a +little girl. + +"And then, when I was in my teens," she went on, "I saved my dimes and +bought fine valentines made of silver paper cut into hearts and +cupids, with what I thought beautiful 'poetry' printed on them." + +"And what are your valentines like now?" asked Davie. + +"You'll find them rather heavy, I'm afraid," said his mother merrily; +"you see, Davie, I have found out that Love has something else to do +besides playing with silver hearts and cupids, though that's all right +too. There are some poor and tired and lonely people in the world who +don't want you to give them money, or to offer them help on most days +of the year; it hurts their feelings. But on love-days, like +Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and Valentine's Day, you can give them a +love gift, and they are pleased. I have some like that for you to +carry around to-morrow." + +When Davie came downstairs early the next morning, he brought with +him one of his cherished "Peter Rabbit" books. "Mother," he said, "I +want to begin to keep Valentine Day like you do." + +So "Peter Rabbit" found himself tucked in Mrs. Tobin's bundle for Jack +Tobin, who had never had that sort of valentine, or indeed any sort, +in his life. And it was queer how all day long the thought of that new +sort of valentine he had sent out made Davie smile to himself! + + * * * * * + + +VALENTINES. + + + The wind was blowing down our street, + And it was snowing some; + But I watched from the chilly porch + To see the postman come. + + Across the street to Elsie's door; + And then I meant to run + Before she got the valentine-- + I knew that she'd get one. + + I knew it would be beautiful, + With lace and hearts and things, + And pretty verses on the leaves, + And tied with ribbon strings. + + I knew the verses all by heart; + I knew the bows were pink; + The hearts were gold; the lace was white-- + Oh, what would Elsie think! + + I saw the postman come at last, + And Elsie at the door; + She got a valentine, sure 'nough-- + I knew she would before. + + And then I hid inside our hall; + And, when his whistle blew, + The postman called: "Hello! hello!-- + A valentine for you!" + + Sure 'nough, I got a valentine, + With lace and hearts and things, + And pretty verses on the leaves, + And tied with ribbon strings. + + And I have wondered, ever since, + And guessed if Elsie knew + For sure I'd get a valentine, + Before the postman blew, + + Just like I knew that she'd get one + And knew her verses, too. + I never s'posed that I'd get one-- + Do you guess Elsie knew? + --_Written for Dew Drops by Ellen D. Masters_. + + + * * * * * + + +A TREE TALK. + + +What a wonderful thing a tree is! A live thing, a useful thing, a +beautiful thing, and so common that we scarcely think of it as a +wonder at all. + +Think of the great families of trees, the maple, the beech, the birch, +the hemlock, the spruce, the oak, and so on and on and on. So many +alike, and yet each one different. What a world of wonders! + +In the human family there are oddities, you know, and so in the tree +family. + +There is the whistling tree, for instance. It grows in the West India +Islands. It bears pods with open edges, and the wind passing through +them makes the whistling sound which gives the tree its name. + +Then there is the cow tree, which yields a delicious creamy milk. This +tree grows in South America, and often looks like a dead tree, but if +it is tapped the milk will flow out freely. Sunrise is "milking time," +when the natives come with their jugs and fill them with the sweet, +nourishing fluid.--_Selected_. + + * * * * * + + +[Illustration] + +TWENTY VALENTINES + +By Marion Mallette Thornton + + +"Oh," said Millicent, watching the postman's blue coat up the street. +"I wish he would come here day after to-morrow and bring me twenty +valentines!" + +"Will he, Mitty?" Jimmy-Boy asked eagerly. + +Millicent shook her head. "'Course not, Jimmy-Boy. I know only six +little girls; I couldn't get but six." + +Aunt Sara was listening. She was Millicent's very prettiest auntie +from the city, and she nearly always found a way to help. + +"How would you like to _send_ twenty valentines?" she asked. + +Millicent laughed. "Why, auntie, I couldn't send but six, either. I +don't know any more girls. Besides, I haven't any more valentines." + +"Suppose I should show you how to make twenty valentines, and find +twenty little girls to send them to; would you like, to do it?" + +Millicent came running from the window with Jimmy-Boy close behind +her. + +"I'd love to, auntie! Please show me right away." + +"Love to, auntie, right away," echoed Jimmy-Boy. + +"You can help," Aunt Sara promised. "You can bring the mucilage while +Millicent gets the scissors." + +When they came back with these, Aunt Sara had a pile of gay pictures +on the table, and some sheets of thick white paper. + +"We will cut this into hearts," she said, "and you can cut out these +birds and flowers and paste them on. Let's see which can make the +neatest and prettiest ones." + +Jimmy-Boy had to be helped a little in cutting out pictures, but he +had learned to paste neatly at kindergarten, and his valentines were +so pretty it was hard for Aunt Sara to choose between his and +Millicent's. + +It was such fun making them that Millicent almost forgot about the +twenty little girls they were to go to. + +[Illustration: "_Let's see who can make the neatest and prettiest +ones_."] + +"Who are they, auntie?" she asked when she remembered. "Where do they +live?" + +"Away down in the city," Aunt Sara explained. "Each one in a little +white bed in a Children's Hospital. I don't know their names, but I'll +send them to the superintendent, and they will get them safely on +Valentine's Day. You can't think how happy they will be." + +"Oh, I just like to try to think!" cried Millicent. "I'm glad we made +them so nice." + +The twenty valentines went off in their white envelopes the next +morning. + +On Valentine's Day the postman brought Milly six from the six little +girls and two from Jimmy-Boy and Aunt Sara. They were lovely, and +there were some for Jimmy-Boy, but they did not please the children +nearly as much as a letter that came a week later. + +It was from the hospital superintendent and said: "I wish you could +have seen my dear little sick girls smile when they saw their pretty +valentines. They looked at them all day and slept with them under +their pillows at night. One tiny girl kept hers in her hand. They all +send a big 'Thank-you' to Millicent and Jimmy-Boy." + +"Next year we'll begin sooner and make forty," Millicent decided; +"it's lots more fun than getting them, isn't it, Jimmy-Boy?" + + * * * * * + + +HAROLD'S SHETLAND PONY. + + +On Harold's birthday Uncle George gave him a Shetland pony. + +I never saw anyone so surprised as Harold was. He thanked his uncle so +many times that I thought Uncle George would be all tired out saying, +"You're welcome." + +The week of the Flower Festival here in Santa Barbara, where we live, +Harold drove his pony in the parade. + +The carriage was all covered with pink roses. There were roses all +over the canopy top, and all over the dashboard, and along the sides, +and up the back, and on the seat where Harold sat. And the pony had a +collar of roses, and the roses were wreathed in the harness and wound +in the wheels. + +Harold enjoyed the parade very much, but he never thought of taking a +prize till the money was sent to him. He was as pleased as could be. + +"What will you buy with the money, Harold?" I asked. + +"Well, you see," said Harold, "the money doesn't really belong to me. +It belongs to the Shetland pony, and I would like to talk about what +would be the nicest thing to do for the pony." + +So we all talked about it and decided that the nicest thing we could +do for the pony would be to put a big screen window in the front of +his stall, so he would not be troubled with flies.--_Selected_. + + * * * * * + + +FLO'S VALENTINE + + + "I wonder where I'd better send + This valentine." said Flo; + "It's pretty, and my dearest friend + Would like it much, I know. + + "My dearest friend is Nelly May; + She'll have a lot, I s'pose; + She always does, for she's a girl + 'Most everybody knows. + + "I want to send it awful bad + To Nelly May, for she + Will likely send her loveliest one + To her dear friend--that's me. + + "But there is little Molly Jones-- + She said, the other day. + She'd never had a valentine + In all her life; now say, + + "I've half a mind to send her this; + 'Twill s'prise her so, you see. + That won't be selfish, for I know + She'll not send one to me. + + "And Nelly May won't miss it, for + She'll have so many; so + I'll start right off and mail it now + As quick as I can go." + --_Written for Dew Drops by Helen M. Richardson_. + + + * * * * * + + +HOW BLANCA SAVED THE KITTENS. + + +Blanca was a pretty fox terrier who lived on the fourth floor of a big +apartment house, and the four kittens were her adopted family. For +when the kittens' mother died and left them wee, helpless babies, +Blanca at once proved the kindness of her heart by taking and caring +for them as if they had been her very own. + +One day a great danger came to Blanca and her family, as well as to +everyone else in the building. A blue mist began to drift through the +halls, there was the smell of smoke, then someone cried "Fire!" and +the people in the different flats rushed out of their rooms in a +panic. + +Quickly a big, shiny, brass fire engine rattled up, followed by the +hose cart, and the wagon loaded with long ladders if they should be +needed. The firemen rushed in, dragging lengths of hose, the smoke +grew thicker and the confusion worse. + +Some of the people were so frightened that they did not know what they +were doing. But there was one who did not lose her presence of mind, +and that was the little dog. When the first alarm was given, Blanca +ran down to see what it all meant. But she was not satisfied to be +safe herself, and leave her foster babies in danger. Up she went +again, up the stairways filled with firemen and excited tenants to the +top floor, and down she came jumping over hose pipe, dodging between +firemen's legs, with a kitten in her mouth. + +This she carried out and laid down where it would be safe, then +started back again through smoke and flame and heat. Four times she +made the trip to the top floor, and each time she came back with a +kitten in her mouth. Nor did she rest till they were all out of +danger. + +All the people who had watched the little dog said how brave she was. +And so we all say. But what made Blanca brave was because she thought +of the kittens instead of herself.--_Written for Dew Drops by Adele E. +Thompson_. + + * * * * * + +Learn to treat everybody with respect and consideration. + + * * * * * + +A good friend is worth trying to keep. + + * * * * * + + +OUR LESSON--For Feb. 15. + + * * * * * + +PREPARED BY MARGUERITE COOK. + + * * * * * + + +Title.--Christ's Hatred of Shams.--Luke 11:37-54. + +Golden Text.--Be not deceived; God is not mocked--Gal. 6:7. + +_Beginners Golden Text_.--_The day is thine, the night also is +thine_.--Ps. 74:16. + +Truth.--God looketh upon the heart. + +1. One day when Jesus was teaching the people a Pharisee invited him +to dine with him. + +[Illustration] + +2. Jesus went with him, for he hoped to be able to teach him how to +truly love and serve God. + +[Illustration] + +3. The Pharisee was surprised that Jesus sat down to the table to eat +without first washing his hands. + +[Illustration] + +4. Jesus told him that it was true that the Pharisees made much of +washing their hands but that their hearts were far from clean. + +[Illustration] + +5. Jesus told him that God made the soul as well as the body and +wanted the soul kept clean and pure. + +[Illustration] + +6. They loved to be thought great and good but were selfish and +unkind. + +7. When they prayed or gave alms to the poor it was to be seen and +praised by others. + +[Illustration] + +8. Jesus also blamed those who made life hard for others and made +things easy for themselves. + +9. God looks into our hearts and sees what we really are. + +10. It is useless for us to try to deceive God. + +11. He knows all the time if we have wicked, selfish, impure hearts, +no matter how hard we try to seem good. + +12. To please God we must have pure hearts and live pure, true, loving +lives. + + * * * * * + +QUESTIONS. + +What is the Golden Text? + +What is the Truth? + +1. Who invited Jesus to dine with him? + +2. What did Jesus hope to be able to teach him? + +3. At what was the Pharisee surprised? + +4. What did Jesus tell him about the hearts of the Pharisees? + +5. What did Jesus tell him about the body and soul? + +6. Although they loved to be thought great and good, what were they? + +7. Why did they pray and give alms to the poor? + +8. Whom did Jesus also blame? + +9. When God looks into our hearts what does he see? + +10. What is it useless for us to try to do? + +11. What does he know? + +12. What must we do to please God? + + * * * * * + +LESSON HYMN. + +_Tune_--"Jesus loves me, this I know," omitting chorus (E flat). + + We should all be very sure + That our hearts are good and pure; + Jesus knows if we are true, + He knows all we say or do. + + * * * * * + +Title of Lesson for Feb. 22. + +Faith Destroying Fear.--Luke 12: 1-12. + + * * * * * + +Golden Text for Feb. 22. + +Every one who shall confess me before men, him shall the Son of man +also confess before the angels of God.--Luke 12:8. + + * * * * * + +Beginners Golden Text for Feb. 22. + +_He careth for you_.--1 Peter 5:7. + + * * * * * + + +Advice to Boys and Girls + + +Freddy's Way. + + +When the clock struck eleven, Freddy turned from the window where he +had been watching for nearly an hour and he said: "Guess Dan has +forgotten to come for me. I think I'd better write a letter to +mother." His aunt, whom he was visiting, answered: + +"That will be a sensible thing to do, dear." + +Freddy worked very hard on his letter. When it was finished, he said: +"It doesn't look as nice as it might, but I guess mother will know I +tried to do my best." His aunt replied: + +"I'm sure she will, anyway, the main thing was to keep your promise +and write to her." + +Presently, Freddy took his cap and went outdoors to find amusement for +himself; it was a beautiful warm day, just the kind when a boy loves +to go swimming, and he thought longingly of the river. But his aunt +did not wish him to go alone, and for some reason Dan had failed to +call for him. The next-door neighbor was mowing his lawn and Freddy +asked: "Need any help?" The man answered: + +"Sure, I was just wishing for a boy to rake the grass." + +Freddy set about his work whistling and the neighbor never guessed +that his small helper had had a disappointment that morning. It was +Freddy's happy way when he could not do one thing to find another and +do that cheerily.--_Written for Dew Drops by Marie Deacon Hanson_. + + * * * * * + +A Good Rule. + + + We have the wisest teacher, and she has + given this rule + That helps us in our lessons--you can use + it in your school. + Always add a smile or two when things + are going wrong, + Subtract the frowns that try to come + when lessons seem too long, + Then multiply your efforts when the + figures won't come right, + Divide your pleasures day by day with + every one in sight + Now if you always use this rule you'll + have a happy day, + For lessons then are easy, and the hours + fly away. + + * * * * * + +[Entered at the Post Office at Elgin, Ill., as Second Class Mail +Matter.] + +Price of Dew Drops.--In lots of five or more, to one address, 20 cents +per copy per year, or 5-1/2 cents per copy per quarter. Address, + +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILL. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February +15, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14116 *** diff --git a/14116-h.zip b/14116-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a6fbaa --- /dev/null +++ b/14116-h.zip diff --git a/14116-h/14116-h.htm b/14116-h/14116-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3855e43 --- /dev/null +++ b/14116-h/14116-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1311 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7. + </title> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 35%; + margin-top: 2.2em; + margin-bottom: 2.2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 8%; + margin-right: 8%; + } + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em;} + .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 9em;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February 15, 1914, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February 15, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 22, 2004 [EBook #14116] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEW DROPS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ronald Holder, John Hagerson, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="770" height="155" alt="DEW DROPS" /> +</div> + +<h4>VOL. 37. NO. 7. WEEKLY.<br /> +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS.<br /> +GEORGE E. COOK, EDITOR.<br /> +FEBRUARY 15, 1914.</h4> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/valentin.jpg" width="700" height="113" +alt="How Arthur Made Valentines By MAY G. MOOAR" /> +</div> + +<p>Arthur had a box of paints given him for Christmas, and he had learned +to color pictures very prettily; so just as he was finishing the dress +of a gorgeous Japanese lady such a happy thought came to him that he +nearly spilled some yellow paint all over Miss Matsuki's gay pink +dress, in his haste to find mother and tell her about it.</p> + +<p>“I want to make my valentines all myself this year,” he exclaimed +excitedly as soon as the yellow paint was safely back in the box, “for +now I can paint. Why can't I paint some valentines, same's Aunt +Frances did last year?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I think you could, dear,” mother answered.</p> + +<p>“'Course I don't mean I could make quite such lovely flowers as she +did,” Arthur went on, “but I think it would be lots more fun to do it +myself than to buy them.”</p> + +<p>“So do I, Arthur,” mother said, “and I think if you look through those +papers in the lower drawer you'll find some pictures to cut out that +would make pretty valentines. Then you could color them with your +paints and paste them on a sheet of note paper.”</p> + +<p>“But, mother, don't valentines have some verses written on them +besides the pictures? Aunt Frances' did. Where can I get those?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I could write those for you,” mother laughed, “if I tried +real hard.”</p> + +<p>“Could you really write verses?” Arthur asked in round-eyed wonder. +“Then we'll have some lovely valentines, won't we? I'll make one for +you, and one for father, and Alice and John and Clifton and Barbara +and oh, lots of folks.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I guess you better get to work right away, if you've such a lot +to do,” advised mother, “and I had better begin on the poetry.”<br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/arthur.jpg" width="491" height="550" +alt="Illustration: Arthur decorates the valentines with his new paints while mother writes the verses." /> +</div> + +<p><br />It was fun to find the pictures, for there were such a lot to select +from, and by supper time Arthur had a nice pile all ready to paint +next morning.</p> + +<p>Two days before Valentine's day they were all done—prettily colored +and pasted on note paper with a little verse that mother had written, +printed in Arthur's very best writing.</p> + +<p>“Aren't they bee-u-ti-ful,” he exclaimed as he laid them in a row on +the dining-room table.</p> + +<p>“They are very nice, dear,” mother said, “and which do you think are +the prettiest ones?”</p> + +<p>Arthur looked a long time at the row of little valentines and then he +said, “These two.” One had a little curly-haired child carrying a big +bunch of flowers in her hand, and the verse read:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>“This bunch of roses I'm bringing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is a valentine for you,<br /></span> +<span>To show that in storm or in sunshine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My love is always true.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And the other valentine had a picture of two little boys carrying a +big basket between them, and this was the little verse:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>“What do you s'pose our basket holds?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give guess one and two.<br /></span> +<span>You'll never think, so I must tell:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's full of love for you.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>“And to whom are you going to give the two prettiest ones?” asked +mother.</p> + +<p>An earnest look came into Arthur's eyes.</p> + +<p>“I fought I'd send the little-girl one to that lame boy at the corner. +I don't know him very well, but he looks kind of lonely, you said, +mother. Don't you s'pose he'd like it?”</p> + +<p>Mother nodded. “And who is to have the other?”</p> + +<p>A little hand stole into mother's, and two brown eyes full of love +were lifted to mother's face.</p> + +<p>“That is for you,” he said.</p> + + +<hr /> + + +<h3>“BOB'S LOST HIS TEMPER.”</h3> + +<p>Uncle Will, visiting in the family, heard this remark quite often. One +day he said to Bob:</p> + +<p>“I think it rather a fortunate loss, don't you?”</p> + +<p>“What?” asked Bob, in surprise. “It wasn't a very good one, you know. +If I were you I'd try to get a better one, and then never lose it.”</p> + +<p>Good advice for Bob.</p> + + +<hr /> + + +<h3>GOING ALONE.</h3> + + +<p>“I'm afraid will have to go alone this morning, Harlis,” said mamma. +“My head is getting worse instead of better. You think it will be all +right for Harlis to go, don't you, papa?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wentworth looked up inquiringly into the face of a tall man who +had just entered the room.</p> + +<p>“Certainly. He is big enough, and knows the way. Why not let him go?” +her husband answered.</p> + +<p>Harlis was quite proud to hear that opinion, and adopting something of +his papa's emphatic tone, he said, “Of course, I'm big enough, mamma. +Willie Nelson goes every single Sunday alone, and he isn't only two +weeks older than I am. You needn't worry a bit. I'll take Esther, too, +if you want me to. I'll take care of her.”</p> + +<p>Mamma smiled a little as she answered, “No, dear, I thank you just the +same, but Annie will take care of Esther this morning. If I let you go +alone, you must promise to go straight to Sunday-school.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, mamma,” answered Harlis, very willingly.</p> + +<p>Proudly he walked down the street. He felt sure everyone was noticing +him. One of the newsboys ran past him and shouted, “Hello, little +chap!” and grinned.</p> + +<p>Mamma had said, “Be a good boy, Harlis,” before he left home. He +couldn't help feeling how foolish it was for her always to say that, +but he excused her with the thought that it was probably mamma-like to +be a little anxious and worried about such things.</p> + +<p>“Harlis! Harlis!”</p> + +<p>Harlis was just entering one of the chief business streets through +which he had to pass to reach the church. He turned and saw Willie +Nelson running as fast as his little legs could carry him to catch up.</p> + +<p>“All alone?” Willie asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“So'm I. My mamma can't come to Sunday-school. She makes me go, +though. I don't care much. Let's go this way.”</p> + +<p>“No. I can't. Mamma said for me to go just the same way I always did. +I promised.”</p> + +<p>“Did you? My, I go the way I want to. This is just as good as any,” he +added cheerfully. “Let's look in here. Ain't that fine?”</p> + +<p>It was a display in the candy shop they were looking at. Across the +window, hung from the gas jet by ribbons, was a huge candy cane.</p> + +<p>“See that,” said Willie, pulling out from his pocket a five-cent +piece. “Know what I am going to do with it?”</p> + +<p>“Take it to Miss Beatrice for the poor little girl she told about.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. Going to get some candy. Five cents don't get much, though. +Not the best kind. That costs money.”</p> + +<p>Harlis put his hand in his pocket and quickly pulled it out. But the +action did not escape Willis' sharp eyes.</p> + +<p>“You got any?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Let's see. Oh, a nickel! Thought maybe it was just a penny. What a +lot ten cents would get. What kind do you like best?”</p> + +<p>“I like chocolate best.”</p> + +<p>“Do you? Why, so do I. Say we get some?”</p> + +<p>“I don't believe mamma would like it. She said we mustn't buy things +on Sunday.”</p> + +<p>“She'll never know. That's nothing bad, either.”</p> + +<p>When the collection basket was passed around, Harlis looked almost +ready to cry. “Did you forget your money?” said Miss Beatrice, +pleasantly. Harlis so seldom came without it that it was noticeable.</p> + +<p>“Yes'm,” answered the little boy, almost without thinking what he was +saying. He was so uncomfortable, and Willie was making eyes at him.</p> + +<p>“Never mind, bring it next Sunday,” said Miss Beatrice, noticing the +flushed face and telltale eyes, and not understanding quite what it +meant.</p> + +<p>If mamma had not been sick, the trouble would surely have come out +earlier, because mamma would have seen in a minute that something was +wrong. After the late dinner, there was nothing to do but cuddle up in +the corner of the sofa with his books. Just as it was growing dark, +papa came down from the sick room. He found Harlis with his head +buried in the sofa cushion.</p> + +<p>“What's the matter?” said papa briskly, picking up his little boy. +“Lonesome? Too bad! Thought you went to Aunt Lucy's with Esther.”</p> + +<p>“I didn't want to,” said Harlis, breaking out in big, shaking sobs.</p> + +<p>Papa knew something was wrong, then, and by degrees the story came +out.</p> + +<p>Papa said very little, for he seemed to understand the real suffering +Harlis had already gone through because of his wrongdoings.</p> + +<p>“But the nickel was mine,” said Harlis, as he and mamma were talking +it over.</p> + +<p>“Was it?” said mamma. “What did I give it to you for?”</p> + +<p>“For the poor little girl.”</p> + +<p>“You can put it back, but you must earn it,” she said.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I will! I will!” Harlis was only too glad to do this. “And I'll +never do so again, mamma.”</p> + +<p>And his mamma felt sure he never would.</p> + +<p>—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Florence Maule.</i></p> + +<hr /> + + +<h3>THE LIGHT OF A SMILE.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>If it drizzles and pours,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is there any reason<br /></span> +<span>The weather indoors<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Should be dull, like the season?<br /></span> +<span>There is something makes bright<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cloudiest places;<br /></span> +<span>Can you guess? 'Tis the light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the smiles on your faces.<br /></span> +<span class="i9">—<i>Selected</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg2_mother.gif" width="500" height="192" alt="Mother's Valentines" /> +</div> + +<h3>By Elizabeth P. Allan</h3> + + +<p>“Davie boy, I wish you would get up early to-morrow morning,” said +Mrs. Forbes; “I want your help in sending out some valentines.”</p> + +<p>Davie opened his sleepy eyes wide. “Why, mother,” he said, “I did not +know that <i>you</i> were in the valentine business!”</p> + +<p>“There hasn't been a fourteenth of February since I can remember,” +answered his mother smiling, “that I haven't sent out at least one +valentine. Do you know what Valentine Day means, Davie?”</p> + +<p>“It means sending funny pictures to the other fellows,” grinned Davie.</p> + +<p>“First of all, it means a Love Day,” said Mrs. Forbes, “and valentines +are supposed to be sweethearts' love letters. But I don't see why +sweethearts should have a corner on love, do you, Davie?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg2_davie.png" width="227" height="500" alt="Illustration: Davie helps mother deliver a new kind of valentine" /> +</div> + +<p>“What sort of valentines do you send, mother?” asked the little boy. +His curiosity had waked him up and made him forget that the hands of +the clock had left his bedtime far behind.</p> + +<p>“My valentines used to be made of little pictures cut out and pasted +on a card or a piece of note paper, when I was no older than you,” +said Davie's mother; “and my mother used to write on them in her fine, +copy-book hand, little verses like this:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>“‘The rose is red,<br /></span> +<span>The violet's blue,<br /></span> +<span>Sugar's sweet,<br /></span> +<span>And so are you!’”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Davie laughed aloud at the idea of his mother ever having been such a +little girl.</p> + +<p>“And then, when I was in my teens,” she went on, “I saved my dimes and +bought fine valentines made of silver paper cut into hearts and +cupids, with what I thought beautiful ‘poetry’ printed on them.”</p> + +<p>“And what are your valentines like now?” asked Davie.</p> + +<p>“You'll find them rather heavy, I'm afraid,” said his mother merrily; +“you see, Davie, I have found out that Love has something else to do +besides playing with silver hearts and cupids, though that's all right +too. There are some poor and tired and lonely people in the world who +don't want you to give them money, or to offer them help on most days +of the year; it hurts their feelings. But on love-days, like +Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and Valentine's Day, you can give them a +love gift, and they are pleased. I have some like that for you to +carry around to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>When Davie came downstairs early the next morning, he brought with +him one of his cherished “Peter Rabbit” books. “Mother,” he said, “I +want to begin to keep Valentine Day like you do.”</p> + +<p>So “Peter Rabbit” found himself tucked in Mrs. Tobin's bundle for Jack +Tobin, who had never had that sort of valentine, or indeed any sort, +in his life. And it was queer how all day long the thought of that new +sort of valentine he had sent out made Davie smile to himself!</p> + +<hr /> + + +<h3>VALENTINES.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The wind was blowing down our street,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it was snowing some;<br /></span> +<span>But I watched from the chilly porch<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see the postman come.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Across the street to Elsie's door;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then I meant to run<br /></span> +<span>Before she got the valentine—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I knew that she'd get one.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>I knew it would be beautiful,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With lace and hearts and things,<br /></span> +<span>And pretty verses on the leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tied with ribbon strings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>I knew the verses all by heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I knew the bows were pink;<br /></span> +<span>The hearts were gold; the lace was white—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh, what would Elsie think!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>I saw the postman come at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Elsie at the door;<br /></span> +<span>She got a valentine, sure 'nough—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I knew she would before.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>And then I hid inside our hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, when his whistle blew,<br /></span> +<span>The postman called: “Hello! hello!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A valentine for you!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sure 'nough, I got a valentine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With lace and hearts and things,<br /></span> +<span>And pretty verses on the leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tied with ribbon strings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>And I have wondered, ever since,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And guessed if Elsie knew<br /></span> +<span>For sure I'd get a valentine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before the postman blew,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Just like I knew that she'd get one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And knew her verses, too.<br /></span> +<span>I never s'posed that I'd get one—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Do you guess Elsie knew?<br /></span> +<span>—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Ellen D. Masters</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr /> + + +<h3>A TREE TALK.</h3> + + +<p>What a wonderful thing a tree is! A live thing, a useful thing, a +beautiful thing, and so common that we scarcely think of it as a +wonder at all.</p> + +<p>Think of the great families of trees, the maple, the beech, the birch, +the hemlock, the spruce, the oak, and so on and on and on. So many +alike, and yet each one different. What a world of wonders!</p> + +<p>In the human family there are oddities, you know, and so in the tree +family.</p> + +<p>There is the whistling tree, for instance. It grows in the West India +Islands. It bears pods with open edges, and the wind passing through +them makes the whistling sound which gives the tree its name.</p> + +<p>Then there is the cow tree, which yields a delicious creamy milk. This +tree grows in South America, and often looks like a dead tree, but if +it is tapped the milk will flow out freely. Sunrise is “milking time,” +when the natives come with their jugs and fill them with the sweet, +nourishing fluid.—<i>Selected</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg3_twenty.gif" width="750" height="158" +alt="TWENTY VALENTINES By Marion Mallette Thornton" /> +</div> + +<p>“Oh,” said Millicent, watching the postman's blue coat up the street. +“I wish he would come here day after to-morrow and bring me twenty +valentines!”</p> + +<p>“Will he, Mitty?” Jimmy-Boy asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>Millicent shook her head. “'Course not, Jimmy-Boy. I know only six +little girls; I couldn't get but six.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Sara was listening. She was Millicent's very prettiest auntie +from the city, and she nearly always found a way to help.</p> + +<p>“How would you like to <i>send</i> twenty valentines?” she asked.</p> + +<p>Millicent laughed. “Why, auntie, I couldn't send but six, either. I +don't know any more girls. Besides, I haven't any more valentines.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose I should show you how to make twenty valentines, and find +twenty little girls to send them to; would you like, to do it?”</p> + +<p>Millicent came running from the window with Jimmy-Boy close behind +her.</p> + +<p>“I'd love to, auntie! Please show me right away.”</p> + +<p>“Love to, auntie, right away,” echoed Jimmy-Boy.</p> + +<p>“You can help,” Aunt Sara promised. “You can bring the mucilage while +Millicent gets the scissors.”</p> + +<p>When they came back with these, Aunt Sara had a pile of gay pictures +on the table, and some sheets of thick white paper.</p> + +<p>“We will cut this into hearts,” she said, “and you can cut out these +birds and flowers and paste them on. Let's see which can make the +neatest and prettiest ones.”</p> + +<p>Jimmy-Boy had to be helped a little in cutting out pictures, but he +had learned to paste neatly at kindergarten, and his valentines were +so pretty it was hard for Aunt Sara to choose between his and +Millicent's.</p> + +<p>It was such fun making them that Millicent almost forgot about the +twenty little girls they were to go to.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg3_making.gif" width="600" height="497" alt="Illustration: Let's see who can make the neatest and prettiest ones" /> +</div> + +<p>“Who are they, auntie?” she asked when she remembered. “Where do they +live?”</p> + +<p>“Away down in the city,” Aunt Sara explained. “Each one in a little +white bed in a Children's Hospital. I don't know their names, but I'll +send them to the superintendent, and they will get them safely on +Valentine's Day. You can't think how happy they will be.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I just like to try to think!” cried Millicent. “I'm glad we made +them so nice.”</p> + +<p>The twenty valentines went off in their white envelopes the next +morning.</p> + +<p>On Valentine's Day the postman brought Milly six from the six little +girls and two from Jimmy-Boy and Aunt Sara. They were lovely, and +there were some for Jimmy-Boy, but they did not please the children +nearly as much as a letter that came a week later.</p> + +<p>It was from the hospital superintendent and said: “I wish you could +have seen my dear little sick girls smile when they saw their pretty +valentines. They looked at them all day and slept with them under +their pillows at night. One tiny girl kept hers in her hand. They all +send a big ‘Thank-you’ to Millicent and Jimmy-Boy.”</p> + +<p>“Next year we'll begin sooner and make forty,” Millicent decided; +“it's lots more fun than getting them, isn't it, Jimmy-Boy?”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>HAROLD'S SHETLAND PONY.</h3> + + +<p>On Harold's birthday Uncle George gave him a Shetland pony.</p> + +<p>I never saw anyone so surprised as Harold was. He thanked his uncle so +many times that I thought Uncle George would be all tired out saying, +“You're welcome.”</p> + +<p>The week of the Flower Festival here in Santa Barbara, where we live, +Harold drove his pony in the parade.</p> + +<p>The carriage was all covered with pink roses. There were roses all +over the canopy top, and all over the dashboard, and along the sides, +and up the back, and on the seat where Harold sat. And the pony had a +collar of roses, and the roses were wreathed in the harness and wound +in the wheels.</p> + +<p>Harold enjoyed the parade very much, but he never thought of taking a +prize till the money was sent to him. He was as pleased as could be.</p> + +<p>“What will you buy with the money, Harold?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Well, you see,” said Harold, “the money doesn't really belong to me. +It belongs to the Shetland pony, and I would like to talk about what +would be the nicest thing to do for the pony.”</p> + +<p>So we all talked about it and decided that the nicest thing we could +do for the pony would be to put a big screen window in the front of +his stall, so he would not be troubled with flies.—<i>Selected</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>FLO'S VALENTINE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>“I wonder where I'd better send<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This valentine.” said Flo;<br /></span> +<span>“It's pretty, and my dearest friend<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would like it much, I know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“My dearest friend is Nelly May;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll have a lot, I s'pose;<br /></span> +<span>She always does, for she's a girl<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Most everybody knows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“I want to send it awful bad<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Nelly May, for she<br /></span> +<span>Will likely send her loveliest one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To her dear friend—that's me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“But there is little Molly Jones—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She said, the other day.<br /></span> +<span>She'd never had a valentine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In all her life; now say,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“I've half a mind to send her this;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twill s'prise her so, you see.<br /></span> +<span>That won't be selfish, for I know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll not send one to me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“And Nelly May won't miss it, for<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll have so many; so<br /></span> +<span>I'll start right off and mail it now<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As quick as I can go.”<br /></span> +<span>—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Helen M. Richardson</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr /> + + +<h3>HOW BLANCA SAVED THE KITTENS.</h3> + + +<p>Blanca was a pretty fox terrier who lived on the fourth floor of a big +apartment house, and the four kittens were her adopted family. For +when the kittens' mother died and left them wee, helpless babies, +Blanca at once proved the kindness of her heart by taking and caring +for them as if they had been her very own.</p> + +<p>One day a great danger came to Blanca and her family, as well as to +everyone else in the building. A blue mist began to drift through the +halls, there was the smell of smoke, then someone cried “Fire!” and +the people in the different flats rushed out of their rooms in a +panic.</p> + +<p>Quickly a big, shiny, brass fire engine rattled up, followed by the +hose cart, and the wagon loaded with long ladders if they should be +needed. The firemen rushed in, dragging lengths of hose, the smoke +grew thicker and the confusion worse.</p> + +<p>Some of the people were so frightened that they did not know what they +were doing. But there was one who did not lose her presence of mind, +and that was the little dog. When the first alarm was given, Blanca +ran down to see what it all meant. But she was not satisfied to be +safe herself, and leave her foster babies in danger. Up she went +again, up the stairways filled with firemen and excited tenants to the +top floor, and down she came jumping over hose pipe, dodging between +firemen's legs, with a kitten in her mouth.</p> + +<p>This she carried out and laid down where it would be safe, then +started back again through smoke and flame and heat. Four times she +made the trip to the top floor, and each time she came back with a +kitten in her mouth. Nor did she rest till they were all out of +danger.</p> + +<p>All the people who had watched the little dog said how brave she was. +And so we all say. But what made Blanca brave was because she thought +of the kittens instead of herself.—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Adele E. +Thompson</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Learn to treat everybody with respect and consideration.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>A good friend is worth trying to keep.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR LESSON—For Feb. 15.</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h3>PREPARED BY MARGUERITE COOK.</h3> + +<hr /> + + +<p>Title.—Christ's Hatred of Shams.—Luke 11:37-54.</p> + +<p>Golden Text.—Be not deceived; God is not mocked—Gal. 6:7.</p> + +<p><i>Beginners Golden Text</i>.—<i>The day is thine, the night also is +thine</i>.—Ps. 74: 16.</p> + +<p>Truth.—God looketh upon the heart.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<p>1. One day when Jesus was teaching the people a Pharisee invited him +to dine with him.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible1.gif" width="500" height="348" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>2. Jesus went with him, for he hoped to be able to teach him how to +truly love and serve God.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible2.gif" width="400" height="363" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>3. The Pharisee was surprised that Jesus sat down to the table to eat +without first washing his hands.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible3.gif" width="450" height="311" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>4. Jesus told him that it was true that the Pharisees made much of +washing their hands but that their hearts were far from clean.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible4.gif" width="400" height="290" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>5. Jesus told him that God made the soul as well as the body and +wanted the soul kept clean and pure.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_purify.gif" width="275" height="340" alt="PURIFY YOUR HEARTS" /> + +<p>6. They loved to be thought great and good but were selfish and +unkind.</p> + +<p>7. When they prayed or gave alms to the poor it was to be seen and +praised by others.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible5.gif" width="274" height="300" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>8. Jesus also blamed those who made life hard for others and made +things easy for themselves.</p> + +<p>9. God looks into our hearts and sees what we really are.</p> + +<p>10. It is useless for us to try to deceive God.</p> + +<p>11. He knows all the time if we have wicked, selfish, impure hearts, +no matter how hard we try to seem good.</p> + +<p>12. To please God we must have pure hearts and live pure, true, loving +lives.</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>QUESTIONS.</h4> + +<p>What is the Golden Text?</p> + +<p>What is the Truth?</p> + +<p>1. Who invited Jesus to dine with him?</p> + +<p>2. What did Jesus hope to be able to teach him?</p> + +<p>3. At what was the Pharisee surprised?</p> + +<p>4. What did Jesus tell him about the hearts of the Pharisees?</p> + +<p>5. What did Jesus tell him about the body and soul?</p> + +<p>6. Although they loved to be thought great and good, what were they?</p> + +<p>7. Why did they pray and give alms to the poor?</p> + +<p>8. Whom did Jesus also blame?</p> + +<p>9. When God looks into our hearts what does he see?</p> + +<p>10. What is it useless for us to try to do?</p> + +<p>11. What does he know?</p> + +<p>12. What must we do to please God?</p> +<hr /> + +<h4>LESSON HYMN.</h4> + +<p><i>Tune</i>—“Jesus loves me, this I know,” omitting chorus (E flat).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>We should all be very sure<br /></span> +<span>That our hearts are good and pure;<br /></span> +<span>Jesus knows if we are true,<br /></span> +<span>He knows all we say or do.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Title of Lesson for Feb. 22.</h4> + +<p>Faith Destroying Fear.—Luke 12: 1-12.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Golden Text for Feb. 22.</h4> + +<p>Every one who shall confess me before men, him shall the Son of man +also confess before the angels of God.—Luke 12:8.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Beginners Golden Text for Feb. 22.</h4> + +<p><i>He careth for you</i>.—1 Peter 5:7.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg4_advice.gif" width="525" height="139" alt="Advice to Boys and Girls" /> +</div> + +<h3>Freddy's Way.</h3> + + +<p>When the clock struck eleven, Freddy turned from the window where he +had been watching for nearly an hour and he said: “Guess Dan has +forgotten to come for me. I think I'd better write a letter to +mother.” His aunt, whom he was visiting, answered:</p> + +<p>“That will be a sensible thing to do, dear.”</p> + +<p>Freddy worked very hard on his letter. When it was finished, he said: +“It doesn't look as nice as it might, but I guess mother will know I +tried to do my best.” His aunt replied:</p> + +<p>“I'm sure she will, anyway, the main thing was to keep your promise +and write to her.”</p> + +<p>Presently, Freddy took his cap and went outdoors to find amusement for +himself; it was a beautiful warm day, just the kind when a boy loves +to go swimming, and he thought longingly of the river. But his aunt +did not wish him to go alone, and for some reason Dan had failed to +call for him. The next-door neighbor was mowing his lawn and Freddy +asked: “Need any help?” The man answered:</p> + +<p>“Sure, I was just wishing for a boy to rake the grass.”</p> + +<p>Freddy set about his work whistling and the neighbor never guessed +that his small helper had had a disappointment that morning. It was +Freddy's happy way when he could not do one thing to find another and +do that cheerily.—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Marie Deacon Hanson</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A Good Rule.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>We have the wisest teacher, and she has<br /></span> +<span class="i2">given this rule<br /></span> +<span>That helps us in our lessons—you can use<br /></span> +<span class="i2">it in your school.<br /></span> +<span>Always add a smile or two when things<br /></span> +<span class="i2">are going wrong,<br /></span> +<span>Subtract the frowns that try to come<br /></span> +<span class="i2">when lessons seem too long,<br /></span> +<span>Then multiply your efforts when the<br /></span> +<span class="i2">figures won't come right,<br /></span> +<span>Divide your pleasures day by day with<br /></span> +<span class="i2">every one in sight<br /></span> +<span>Now if you always use this rule you'll<br /></span> +<span class="i2">have a happy day,<br /></span> +<span>For lessons then are easy, and the hours<br /></span> +<span class="i2">fly away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>[Entered at the Post Office at Elgin, Ill., as Second Class Mail +Matter.]</p> + +<p>Price of Dew Drops.—In lots of five or more, to one address, 20 cents +per copy per year, or 5½ cents per copy per quarter. Address,</p> + +<p>DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILL.</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February +15, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEW DROPS *** + +***** This file should be named 14116-h.htm or 14116-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/1/1/14116/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ronald Holder, John Hagerson, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February 15, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 22, 2004 [EBook #14116] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEW DROPS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ronald Holder, John Hagerson, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + +DEW DROPS + +VOL. 37. NO. 7. WEEKLY. + +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS. +GEORGE E. COOK, EDITOR. + +FEBRUARY 15, 1914. + + +How Arthur Made Valentines + +By MAY G. MOOAR + + +Arthur had a box of paints given him for Christmas, and he had learned +to color pictures very prettily; so just as he was finishing the dress +of a gorgeous Japanese lady such a happy thought came to him that he +nearly spilled some yellow paint all over Miss Matsuki's gay pink +dress, in his haste to find mother and tell her about it. + +"I want to make my valentines all myself this year," he exclaimed +excitedly as soon as the yellow paint was safely back in the box, "for +now I can paint. Why can't I paint some valentines, same's Aunt +Frances did last year?" + +"Why, I think you could, dear," mother answered. + +"'Course I don't mean I could make quite such lovely flowers as she +did," Arthur went on, "but I think it would be lots more fun to do it +myself than to buy them." + +"So do I, Arthur," mother said, "and I think if you look through those +papers in the lower drawer you'll find some pictures to cut out that +would make pretty valentines. Then you could color them with your +paints and paste them on a sheet of note paper." + +"But, mother, don't valentines have some verses written on them +besides the pictures? Aunt Frances' did. Where can I get those?" + +"Perhaps I could write those for you," mother laughed, "if I tried +real hard." + +"Could you really write verses?" Arthur asked in round-eyed wonder. +"Then we'll have some lovely valentines, won't we? I'll make one for +you, and one for father, and Alice and John and Clifton and Barbara +and oh, lots of folks." + +"Well, I guess you better get to work right away, if you've such a lot +to do," advised mother, "and I had better begin on the poetry." + +It was fun to find the pictures, for there were such a lot to select +from, and by supper time Arthur had a nice pile all ready to paint +next morning. + +Two days before Valentine's day they were all done--prettily colored +and pasted on note paper with a little verse that mother had written, +printed in Arthur's very best writing. + +[Illustration: _Arthur decorates the valentines with his new paints +while mother writes the verses_.] + +"Aren't they bee-u-ti-ful," he exclaimed as he laid them in a row on +the dining-room table. + +"They are very nice, dear," mother said, "and which do you think are +the prettiest ones?" + +Arthur looked a long time at the row of little valentines and then he +said, "These two." One had a little curly-haired child carrying a big +bunch of flowers in her hand, and the verse read: + + "This bunch of roses I'm bringing, + Is a valentine for you, + To show that in storm or in sunshine + My love is always true." + +And the other valentine had a picture of two little boys carrying a +big basket between them, and this was the little verse: + + "What do you s'pose our basket holds? + Give guess one and two. + You'll never think, so I must tell: + It's full of love for you." + +"And to whom are you going to give the two prettiest ones?" asked +mother. + +An earnest look came into Arthur's eyes. + +"I fought I'd send the little-girl one to that lame boy at the corner. +I don't know him very well, but he looks kind of lonely, you said, +mother. Don't you s'pose he'd like it?" + +Mother nodded. "And who is to have the other?" + +A little hand stole into mother's, and two brown eyes full of love +were lifted to mother's face. + +"That is for you," he said. + + + * * * * * + + +"BOB'S LOST HIS TEMPER." + +Uncle Will, visiting in the family, heard this remark quite often. One +day he said to Bob: + +"I think it rather a fortunate loss, don't you?" + +"What?" asked Bob, in surprise. "It wasn't a very good one, you know. +If I were you I'd try to get a better one, and then never lose it." + +Good advice for Bob. + + + * * * * * + + +GOING ALONE. + + +"I'm afraid will have to go alone this morning, Harlis," said mamma. +"My head is getting worse instead of better. You think it will be all +right for Harlis to go, don't you, papa?" + +Mrs. Wentworth looked up inquiringly into the face of a tall man who +had just entered the room. + +"Certainly. He is big enough, and knows the way. Why not let him go?" +her husband answered. + +Harlis was quite proud to hear that opinion, and adopting something of +his papa's emphatic tone, he said, "Of course, I'm big enough, mamma. +Willie Nelson goes every single Sunday alone, and he isn't only two +weeks older than I am. You needn't worry a bit. I'll take Esther, too, +if you want me to. I'll take care of her." + +Mamma smiled a little as she answered, "No, dear, I thank you just the +same, but Annie will take care of Esther this morning. If I let you go +alone, you must promise to go straight to Sunday-school." + +"Yes, mamma," answered Harlis, very willingly. + +Proudly he walked down the street. He felt sure everyone was noticing +him. One of the newsboys ran past him and shouted, "Hello, little +chap!" and grinned. + +Mamma had said, "Be a good boy, Harlis," before he left home. He +couldn't help feeling how foolish it was for her always to say that, +but he excused her with the thought that it was probably mamma-like to +be a little anxious and worried about such things. + +"Harlis! Harlis!" + +Harlis was just entering one of the chief business streets through +which he had to pass to reach the church. He turned and saw Willie +Nelson running as fast as his little legs could carry him to catch up. + +"All alone?" Willie asked. + +"Yes." + +"So'm I. My mamma can't come to Sunday-school. She makes me go, +though. I don't care much. Let's go this way." + +"No. I can't. Mamma said for me to go just the same way I always did. +I promised." + +"Did you? My, I go the way I want to. This is just as good as any," he +added cheerfully. "Let's look in here. Ain't that fine?" + +It was a display in the candy shop they were looking at. Across the +window, hung from the gas jet by ribbons, was a huge candy cane. + +"See that," said Willie, pulling out from his pocket a five-cent +piece. "Know what I am going to do with it?" + +"Take it to Miss Beatrice for the poor little girl she told about." + +"No, sir. Going to get some candy. Five cents don't get much, though. +Not the best kind. That costs money." + +Harlis put his hand in his pocket and quickly pulled it out. But the +action did not escape Willis' sharp eyes. + +"You got any?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"Let's see. Oh, a nickel! Thought maybe it was just a penny. What a +lot ten cents would get. What kind do you like best?" + +"I like chocolate best." + +"Do you? Why, so do I. Say we get some?" + +"I don't believe mamma would like it. She said we mustn't buy things +on Sunday." + +"She'll never know. That's nothing bad, either." + +When the collection basket was passed around, Harlis looked almost +ready to cry. "Did you forget your money?" said Miss Beatrice, +pleasantly. Harlis so seldom came without it that it was noticeable. + +"Yes'm," answered the little boy, almost without thinking what he was +saying. He was so uncomfortable, and Willie was making eyes at him. + +"Never mind, bring it next Sunday," said Miss Beatrice, noticing the +flushed face and telltale eyes, and not understanding quite what it +meant. + +If mamma had not been sick, the trouble would surely have come out +earlier, because mamma would have seen in a minute that something was +wrong. After the late dinner, there was nothing to do but cuddle up in +the corner of the sofa with his books. Just as it was growing dark, +papa came down from the sick room. He found Harlis with his head +buried in the sofa cushion. + +"What's the matter?" said papa briskly, picking up his little boy. +"Lonesome? Too bad! Thought you went to Aunt Lucy's with Esther." + +"I didn't want to," said Harlis, breaking out in big, shaking sobs. + +Papa knew something was wrong, then, and by degrees the story came +out. + +Papa said very little, for he seemed to understand the real suffering +Harlis had already gone through because of his wrongdoings. + +"But the nickel was mine," said Harlis, as he and mamma were talking +it over. + +"Was it?" said mamma. "What did I give it to you for?" + +"For the poor little girl." + +"You can put it back, but you must earn it," she said. + +"Oh, I will! I will!" Harlis was only too glad to do this. "And I'll +never do so again, mamma." + +And his mamma felt sure he never would. + +--_Written for Dew Drops by Florence Maule._ + + * * * * * + + +THE LIGHT OF A SMILE. + + + If it drizzles and pours, + Is there any reason + The weather indoors + Should be dull, like the season? + There is something makes bright + The cloudiest places; + Can you guess? 'Tis the light + Of the smiles on your faces. + --_Selected_. + + * * * * * + + +Mother's Valentines + +By Elizabeth P. Allan + + +"Davie boy, I wish you would get up early to-morrow morning," said +Mrs. Forbes; "I want your help in sending out some valentines." + +Davie opened his sleepy eyes wide. "Why, mother," he said, "I did not +know that _you_ were in the valentine business!" + +"There hasn't been a fourteenth of February since I can remember," +answered his mother smiling, "that I haven't sent out at least one +valentine. Do you know what Valentine Day means, Davie?" + +"It means sending funny pictures to the other fellows," grinned Davie. + +"First of all, it means a Love Day," said Mrs. Forbes, "and valentines +are supposed to be sweethearts' love letters. But I don't see why +sweethearts should have a corner on love, do you, Davie?" + +[Illustration: _Davie helps mother deliver a new kind of valentine._] + +"What sort of valentines do you send, mother?" asked the little boy. +His curiosity had waked him up and made him forget that the hands of +the clock had left his bedtime far behind. + +"My valentines used to be made of little pictures cut out and pasted +on a card or a piece of note paper, when I was no older than you," +said Davie's mother; "and my mother used to write on them in her fine, +copy-book hand, little verses like this: + + "'The rose is red, + The violet's blue, + Sugar's sweet, + And so are you!'" + +Davie laughed aloud at the idea of his mother ever having been such a +little girl. + +"And then, when I was in my teens," she went on, "I saved my dimes and +bought fine valentines made of silver paper cut into hearts and +cupids, with what I thought beautiful 'poetry' printed on them." + +"And what are your valentines like now?" asked Davie. + +"You'll find them rather heavy, I'm afraid," said his mother merrily; +"you see, Davie, I have found out that Love has something else to do +besides playing with silver hearts and cupids, though that's all right +too. There are some poor and tired and lonely people in the world who +don't want you to give them money, or to offer them help on most days +of the year; it hurts their feelings. But on love-days, like +Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and Valentine's Day, you can give them a +love gift, and they are pleased. I have some like that for you to +carry around to-morrow." + +When Davie came downstairs early the next morning, he brought with +him one of his cherished "Peter Rabbit" books. "Mother," he said, "I +want to begin to keep Valentine Day like you do." + +So "Peter Rabbit" found himself tucked in Mrs. Tobin's bundle for Jack +Tobin, who had never had that sort of valentine, or indeed any sort, +in his life. And it was queer how all day long the thought of that new +sort of valentine he had sent out made Davie smile to himself! + + * * * * * + + +VALENTINES. + + + The wind was blowing down our street, + And it was snowing some; + But I watched from the chilly porch + To see the postman come. + + Across the street to Elsie's door; + And then I meant to run + Before she got the valentine-- + I knew that she'd get one. + + I knew it would be beautiful, + With lace and hearts and things, + And pretty verses on the leaves, + And tied with ribbon strings. + + I knew the verses all by heart; + I knew the bows were pink; + The hearts were gold; the lace was white-- + Oh, what would Elsie think! + + I saw the postman come at last, + And Elsie at the door; + She got a valentine, sure 'nough-- + I knew she would before. + + And then I hid inside our hall; + And, when his whistle blew, + The postman called: "Hello! hello!-- + A valentine for you!" + + Sure 'nough, I got a valentine, + With lace and hearts and things, + And pretty verses on the leaves, + And tied with ribbon strings. + + And I have wondered, ever since, + And guessed if Elsie knew + For sure I'd get a valentine, + Before the postman blew, + + Just like I knew that she'd get one + And knew her verses, too. + I never s'posed that I'd get one-- + Do you guess Elsie knew? + --_Written for Dew Drops by Ellen D. Masters_. + + + * * * * * + + +A TREE TALK. + + +What a wonderful thing a tree is! A live thing, a useful thing, a +beautiful thing, and so common that we scarcely think of it as a +wonder at all. + +Think of the great families of trees, the maple, the beech, the birch, +the hemlock, the spruce, the oak, and so on and on and on. So many +alike, and yet each one different. What a world of wonders! + +In the human family there are oddities, you know, and so in the tree +family. + +There is the whistling tree, for instance. It grows in the West India +Islands. It bears pods with open edges, and the wind passing through +them makes the whistling sound which gives the tree its name. + +Then there is the cow tree, which yields a delicious creamy milk. This +tree grows in South America, and often looks like a dead tree, but if +it is tapped the milk will flow out freely. Sunrise is "milking time," +when the natives come with their jugs and fill them with the sweet, +nourishing fluid.--_Selected_. + + * * * * * + + +[Illustration] + +TWENTY VALENTINES + +By Marion Mallette Thornton + + +"Oh," said Millicent, watching the postman's blue coat up the street. +"I wish he would come here day after to-morrow and bring me twenty +valentines!" + +"Will he, Mitty?" Jimmy-Boy asked eagerly. + +Millicent shook her head. "'Course not, Jimmy-Boy. I know only six +little girls; I couldn't get but six." + +Aunt Sara was listening. She was Millicent's very prettiest auntie +from the city, and she nearly always found a way to help. + +"How would you like to _send_ twenty valentines?" she asked. + +Millicent laughed. "Why, auntie, I couldn't send but six, either. I +don't know any more girls. Besides, I haven't any more valentines." + +"Suppose I should show you how to make twenty valentines, and find +twenty little girls to send them to; would you like, to do it?" + +Millicent came running from the window with Jimmy-Boy close behind +her. + +"I'd love to, auntie! Please show me right away." + +"Love to, auntie, right away," echoed Jimmy-Boy. + +"You can help," Aunt Sara promised. "You can bring the mucilage while +Millicent gets the scissors." + +When they came back with these, Aunt Sara had a pile of gay pictures +on the table, and some sheets of thick white paper. + +"We will cut this into hearts," she said, "and you can cut out these +birds and flowers and paste them on. Let's see which can make the +neatest and prettiest ones." + +Jimmy-Boy had to be helped a little in cutting out pictures, but he +had learned to paste neatly at kindergarten, and his valentines were +so pretty it was hard for Aunt Sara to choose between his and +Millicent's. + +It was such fun making them that Millicent almost forgot about the +twenty little girls they were to go to. + +[Illustration: "_Let's see who can make the neatest and prettiest +ones_."] + +"Who are they, auntie?" she asked when she remembered. "Where do they +live?" + +"Away down in the city," Aunt Sara explained. "Each one in a little +white bed in a Children's Hospital. I don't know their names, but I'll +send them to the superintendent, and they will get them safely on +Valentine's Day. You can't think how happy they will be." + +"Oh, I just like to try to think!" cried Millicent. "I'm glad we made +them so nice." + +The twenty valentines went off in their white envelopes the next +morning. + +On Valentine's Day the postman brought Milly six from the six little +girls and two from Jimmy-Boy and Aunt Sara. They were lovely, and +there were some for Jimmy-Boy, but they did not please the children +nearly as much as a letter that came a week later. + +It was from the hospital superintendent and said: "I wish you could +have seen my dear little sick girls smile when they saw their pretty +valentines. They looked at them all day and slept with them under +their pillows at night. One tiny girl kept hers in her hand. They all +send a big 'Thank-you' to Millicent and Jimmy-Boy." + +"Next year we'll begin sooner and make forty," Millicent decided; +"it's lots more fun than getting them, isn't it, Jimmy-Boy?" + + * * * * * + + +HAROLD'S SHETLAND PONY. + + +On Harold's birthday Uncle George gave him a Shetland pony. + +I never saw anyone so surprised as Harold was. He thanked his uncle so +many times that I thought Uncle George would be all tired out saying, +"You're welcome." + +The week of the Flower Festival here in Santa Barbara, where we live, +Harold drove his pony in the parade. + +The carriage was all covered with pink roses. There were roses all +over the canopy top, and all over the dashboard, and along the sides, +and up the back, and on the seat where Harold sat. And the pony had a +collar of roses, and the roses were wreathed in the harness and wound +in the wheels. + +Harold enjoyed the parade very much, but he never thought of taking a +prize till the money was sent to him. He was as pleased as could be. + +"What will you buy with the money, Harold?" I asked. + +"Well, you see," said Harold, "the money doesn't really belong to me. +It belongs to the Shetland pony, and I would like to talk about what +would be the nicest thing to do for the pony." + +So we all talked about it and decided that the nicest thing we could +do for the pony would be to put a big screen window in the front of +his stall, so he would not be troubled with flies.--_Selected_. + + * * * * * + + +FLO'S VALENTINE + + + "I wonder where I'd better send + This valentine." said Flo; + "It's pretty, and my dearest friend + Would like it much, I know. + + "My dearest friend is Nelly May; + She'll have a lot, I s'pose; + She always does, for she's a girl + 'Most everybody knows. + + "I want to send it awful bad + To Nelly May, for she + Will likely send her loveliest one + To her dear friend--that's me. + + "But there is little Molly Jones-- + She said, the other day. + She'd never had a valentine + In all her life; now say, + + "I've half a mind to send her this; + 'Twill s'prise her so, you see. + That won't be selfish, for I know + She'll not send one to me. + + "And Nelly May won't miss it, for + She'll have so many; so + I'll start right off and mail it now + As quick as I can go." + --_Written for Dew Drops by Helen M. Richardson_. + + + * * * * * + + +HOW BLANCA SAVED THE KITTENS. + + +Blanca was a pretty fox terrier who lived on the fourth floor of a big +apartment house, and the four kittens were her adopted family. For +when the kittens' mother died and left them wee, helpless babies, +Blanca at once proved the kindness of her heart by taking and caring +for them as if they had been her very own. + +One day a great danger came to Blanca and her family, as well as to +everyone else in the building. A blue mist began to drift through the +halls, there was the smell of smoke, then someone cried "Fire!" and +the people in the different flats rushed out of their rooms in a +panic. + +Quickly a big, shiny, brass fire engine rattled up, followed by the +hose cart, and the wagon loaded with long ladders if they should be +needed. The firemen rushed in, dragging lengths of hose, the smoke +grew thicker and the confusion worse. + +Some of the people were so frightened that they did not know what they +were doing. But there was one who did not lose her presence of mind, +and that was the little dog. When the first alarm was given, Blanca +ran down to see what it all meant. But she was not satisfied to be +safe herself, and leave her foster babies in danger. Up she went +again, up the stairways filled with firemen and excited tenants to the +top floor, and down she came jumping over hose pipe, dodging between +firemen's legs, with a kitten in her mouth. + +This she carried out and laid down where it would be safe, then +started back again through smoke and flame and heat. Four times she +made the trip to the top floor, and each time she came back with a +kitten in her mouth. Nor did she rest till they were all out of +danger. + +All the people who had watched the little dog said how brave she was. +And so we all say. But what made Blanca brave was because she thought +of the kittens instead of herself.--_Written for Dew Drops by Adele E. +Thompson_. + + * * * * * + +Learn to treat everybody with respect and consideration. + + * * * * * + +A good friend is worth trying to keep. + + * * * * * + + +OUR LESSON--For Feb. 15. + + * * * * * + +PREPARED BY MARGUERITE COOK. + + * * * * * + + +Title.--Christ's Hatred of Shams.--Luke 11:37-54. + +Golden Text.--Be not deceived; God is not mocked--Gal. 6:7. + +_Beginners Golden Text_.--_The day is thine, the night also is +thine_.--Ps. 74:16. + +Truth.--God looketh upon the heart. + +1. One day when Jesus was teaching the people a Pharisee invited him +to dine with him. + +[Illustration] + +2. Jesus went with him, for he hoped to be able to teach him how to +truly love and serve God. + +[Illustration] + +3. The Pharisee was surprised that Jesus sat down to the table to eat +without first washing his hands. + +[Illustration] + +4. Jesus told him that it was true that the Pharisees made much of +washing their hands but that their hearts were far from clean. + +[Illustration] + +5. Jesus told him that God made the soul as well as the body and +wanted the soul kept clean and pure. + +[Illustration] + +6. They loved to be thought great and good but were selfish and +unkind. + +7. When they prayed or gave alms to the poor it was to be seen and +praised by others. + +[Illustration] + +8. Jesus also blamed those who made life hard for others and made +things easy for themselves. + +9. God looks into our hearts and sees what we really are. + +10. It is useless for us to try to deceive God. + +11. He knows all the time if we have wicked, selfish, impure hearts, +no matter how hard we try to seem good. + +12. To please God we must have pure hearts and live pure, true, loving +lives. + + * * * * * + +QUESTIONS. + +What is the Golden Text? + +What is the Truth? + +1. Who invited Jesus to dine with him? + +2. What did Jesus hope to be able to teach him? + +3. At what was the Pharisee surprised? + +4. What did Jesus tell him about the hearts of the Pharisees? + +5. What did Jesus tell him about the body and soul? + +6. Although they loved to be thought great and good, what were they? + +7. Why did they pray and give alms to the poor? + +8. Whom did Jesus also blame? + +9. When God looks into our hearts what does he see? + +10. What is it useless for us to try to do? + +11. What does he know? + +12. What must we do to please God? + + * * * * * + +LESSON HYMN. + +_Tune_--"Jesus loves me, this I know," omitting chorus (E flat). + + We should all be very sure + That our hearts are good and pure; + Jesus knows if we are true, + He knows all we say or do. + + * * * * * + +Title of Lesson for Feb. 22. + +Faith Destroying Fear.--Luke 12: 1-12. + + * * * * * + +Golden Text for Feb. 22. + +Every one who shall confess me before men, him shall the Son of man +also confess before the angels of God.--Luke 12:8. + + * * * * * + +Beginners Golden Text for Feb. 22. + +_He careth for you_.--1 Peter 5:7. + + * * * * * + + +Advice to Boys and Girls + + +Freddy's Way. + + +When the clock struck eleven, Freddy turned from the window where he +had been watching for nearly an hour and he said: "Guess Dan has +forgotten to come for me. I think I'd better write a letter to +mother." His aunt, whom he was visiting, answered: + +"That will be a sensible thing to do, dear." + +Freddy worked very hard on his letter. When it was finished, he said: +"It doesn't look as nice as it might, but I guess mother will know I +tried to do my best." His aunt replied: + +"I'm sure she will, anyway, the main thing was to keep your promise +and write to her." + +Presently, Freddy took his cap and went outdoors to find amusement for +himself; it was a beautiful warm day, just the kind when a boy loves +to go swimming, and he thought longingly of the river. But his aunt +did not wish him to go alone, and for some reason Dan had failed to +call for him. The next-door neighbor was mowing his lawn and Freddy +asked: "Need any help?" The man answered: + +"Sure, I was just wishing for a boy to rake the grass." + +Freddy set about his work whistling and the neighbor never guessed +that his small helper had had a disappointment that morning. It was +Freddy's happy way when he could not do one thing to find another and +do that cheerily.--_Written for Dew Drops by Marie Deacon Hanson_. + + * * * * * + +A Good Rule. + + + We have the wisest teacher, and she has + given this rule + That helps us in our lessons--you can use + it in your school. + Always add a smile or two when things + are going wrong, + Subtract the frowns that try to come + when lessons seem too long, + Then multiply your efforts when the + figures won't come right, + Divide your pleasures day by day with + every one in sight + Now if you always use this rule you'll + have a happy day, + For lessons then are easy, and the hours + fly away. + + * * * * * + +[Entered at the Post Office at Elgin, Ill., as Second Class Mail +Matter.] + +Price of Dew Drops.--In lots of five or more, to one address, 20 cents +per copy per year, or 5-1/2 cents per copy per quarter. Address, + +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILL. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February +15, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEW DROPS *** + +***** This file should be named 14116.txt or 14116.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/1/1/14116/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ronald Holder, John Hagerson, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February 15, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 22, 2004 [EBook #14116] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEW DROPS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ronald Holder, John Hagerson, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="770" height="155" alt="DEW DROPS" /> +</div> + +<h4>VOL. 37. NO. 7. WEEKLY.<br /> +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS.<br /> +GEORGE E. COOK, EDITOR.<br /> +FEBRUARY 15, 1914.</h4> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/valentin.jpg" width="700" height="113" +alt="How Arthur Made Valentines By MAY G. MOOAR" /> +</div> + +<p>Arthur had a box of paints given him for Christmas, and he had learned +to color pictures very prettily; so just as he was finishing the dress +of a gorgeous Japanese lady such a happy thought came to him that he +nearly spilled some yellow paint all over Miss Matsuki's gay pink +dress, in his haste to find mother and tell her about it.</p> + +<p>“I want to make my valentines all myself this year,” he exclaimed +excitedly as soon as the yellow paint was safely back in the box, “for +now I can paint. Why can't I paint some valentines, same's Aunt +Frances did last year?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I think you could, dear,” mother answered.</p> + +<p>“'Course I don't mean I could make quite such lovely flowers as she +did,” Arthur went on, “but I think it would be lots more fun to do it +myself than to buy them.”</p> + +<p>“So do I, Arthur,” mother said, “and I think if you look through those +papers in the lower drawer you'll find some pictures to cut out that +would make pretty valentines. Then you could color them with your +paints and paste them on a sheet of note paper.”</p> + +<p>“But, mother, don't valentines have some verses written on them +besides the pictures? Aunt Frances' did. Where can I get those?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I could write those for you,” mother laughed, “if I tried +real hard.”</p> + +<p>“Could you really write verses?” Arthur asked in round-eyed wonder. +“Then we'll have some lovely valentines, won't we? I'll make one for +you, and one for father, and Alice and John and Clifton and Barbara +and oh, lots of folks.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I guess you better get to work right away, if you've such a lot +to do,” advised mother, “and I had better begin on the poetry.”<br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/arthur.jpg" width="491" height="550" +alt="Illustration: Arthur decorates the valentines with his new paints while mother writes the verses." /> +</div> + +<p><br />It was fun to find the pictures, for there were such a lot to select +from, and by supper time Arthur had a nice pile all ready to paint +next morning.</p> + +<p>Two days before Valentine's day they were all done—prettily colored +and pasted on note paper with a little verse that mother had written, +printed in Arthur's very best writing.</p> + +<p>“Aren't they bee-u-ti-ful,” he exclaimed as he laid them in a row on +the dining-room table.</p> + +<p>“They are very nice, dear,” mother said, “and which do you think are +the prettiest ones?”</p> + +<p>Arthur looked a long time at the row of little valentines and then he +said, “These two.” One had a little curly-haired child carrying a big +bunch of flowers in her hand, and the verse read:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>“This bunch of roses I'm bringing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is a valentine for you,<br /></span> +<span>To show that in storm or in sunshine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My love is always true.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And the other valentine had a picture of two little boys carrying a +big basket between them, and this was the little verse:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>“What do you s'pose our basket holds?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give guess one and two.<br /></span> +<span>You'll never think, so I must tell:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's full of love for you.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>“And to whom are you going to give the two prettiest ones?” asked +mother.</p> + +<p>An earnest look came into Arthur's eyes.</p> + +<p>“I fought I'd send the little-girl one to that lame boy at the corner. +I don't know him very well, but he looks kind of lonely, you said, +mother. Don't you s'pose he'd like it?”</p> + +<p>Mother nodded. “And who is to have the other?”</p> + +<p>A little hand stole into mother's, and two brown eyes full of love +were lifted to mother's face.</p> + +<p>“That is for you,” he said.</p> + + +<hr /> + + +<h3>“BOB'S LOST HIS TEMPER.”</h3> + +<p>Uncle Will, visiting in the family, heard this remark quite often. One +day he said to Bob:</p> + +<p>“I think it rather a fortunate loss, don't you?”</p> + +<p>“What?” asked Bob, in surprise. “It wasn't a very good one, you know. +If I were you I'd try to get a better one, and then never lose it.”</p> + +<p>Good advice for Bob.</p> + + +<hr /> + + +<h3>GOING ALONE.</h3> + + +<p>“I'm afraid will have to go alone this morning, Harlis,” said mamma. +“My head is getting worse instead of better. You think it will be all +right for Harlis to go, don't you, papa?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wentworth looked up inquiringly into the face of a tall man who +had just entered the room.</p> + +<p>“Certainly. He is big enough, and knows the way. Why not let him go?” +her husband answered.</p> + +<p>Harlis was quite proud to hear that opinion, and adopting something of +his papa's emphatic tone, he said, “Of course, I'm big enough, mamma. +Willie Nelson goes every single Sunday alone, and he isn't only two +weeks older than I am. You needn't worry a bit. I'll take Esther, too, +if you want me to. I'll take care of her.”</p> + +<p>Mamma smiled a little as she answered, “No, dear, I thank you just the +same, but Annie will take care of Esther this morning. If I let you go +alone, you must promise to go straight to Sunday-school.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, mamma,” answered Harlis, very willingly.</p> + +<p>Proudly he walked down the street. He felt sure everyone was noticing +him. One of the newsboys ran past him and shouted, “Hello, little +chap!” and grinned.</p> + +<p>Mamma had said, “Be a good boy, Harlis,” before he left home. He +couldn't help feeling how foolish it was for her always to say that, +but he excused her with the thought that it was probably mamma-like to +be a little anxious and worried about such things.</p> + +<p>“Harlis! Harlis!”</p> + +<p>Harlis was just entering one of the chief business streets through +which he had to pass to reach the church. He turned and saw Willie +Nelson running as fast as his little legs could carry him to catch up.</p> + +<p>“All alone?” Willie asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“So'm I. My mamma can't come to Sunday-school. She makes me go, +though. I don't care much. Let's go this way.”</p> + +<p>“No. I can't. Mamma said for me to go just the same way I always did. +I promised.”</p> + +<p>“Did you? My, I go the way I want to. This is just as good as any,” he +added cheerfully. “Let's look in here. Ain't that fine?”</p> + +<p>It was a display in the candy shop they were looking at. Across the +window, hung from the gas jet by ribbons, was a huge candy cane.</p> + +<p>“See that,” said Willie, pulling out from his pocket a five-cent +piece. “Know what I am going to do with it?”</p> + +<p>“Take it to Miss Beatrice for the poor little girl she told about.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. Going to get some candy. Five cents don't get much, though. +Not the best kind. That costs money.”</p> + +<p>Harlis put his hand in his pocket and quickly pulled it out. But the +action did not escape Willis' sharp eyes.</p> + +<p>“You got any?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Let's see. Oh, a nickel! Thought maybe it was just a penny. What a +lot ten cents would get. What kind do you like best?”</p> + +<p>“I like chocolate best.”</p> + +<p>“Do you? Why, so do I. Say we get some?”</p> + +<p>“I don't believe mamma would like it. She said we mustn't buy things +on Sunday.”</p> + +<p>“She'll never know. That's nothing bad, either.”</p> + +<p>When the collection basket was passed around, Harlis looked almost +ready to cry. “Did you forget your money?” said Miss Beatrice, +pleasantly. Harlis so seldom came without it that it was noticeable.</p> + +<p>“Yes'm,” answered the little boy, almost without thinking what he was +saying. He was so uncomfortable, and Willie was making eyes at him.</p> + +<p>“Never mind, bring it next Sunday,” said Miss Beatrice, noticing the +flushed face and telltale eyes, and not understanding quite what it +meant.</p> + +<p>If mamma had not been sick, the trouble would surely have come out +earlier, because mamma would have seen in a minute that something was +wrong. After the late dinner, there was nothing to do but cuddle up in +the corner of the sofa with his books. Just as it was growing dark, +papa came down from the sick room. He found Harlis with his head +buried in the sofa cushion.</p> + +<p>“What's the matter?” said papa briskly, picking up his little boy. +“Lonesome? Too bad! Thought you went to Aunt Lucy's with Esther.”</p> + +<p>“I didn't want to,” said Harlis, breaking out in big, shaking sobs.</p> + +<p>Papa knew something was wrong, then, and by degrees the story came +out.</p> + +<p>Papa said very little, for he seemed to understand the real suffering +Harlis had already gone through because of his wrongdoings.</p> + +<p>“But the nickel was mine,” said Harlis, as he and mamma were talking +it over.</p> + +<p>“Was it?” said mamma. “What did I give it to you for?”</p> + +<p>“For the poor little girl.”</p> + +<p>“You can put it back, but you must earn it,” she said.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I will! I will!” Harlis was only too glad to do this. “And I'll +never do so again, mamma.”</p> + +<p>And his mamma felt sure he never would.</p> + +<p>—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Florence Maule.</i></p> + +<hr /> + + +<h3>THE LIGHT OF A SMILE.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>If it drizzles and pours,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is there any reason<br /></span> +<span>The weather indoors<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Should be dull, like the season?<br /></span> +<span>There is something makes bright<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cloudiest places;<br /></span> +<span>Can you guess? 'Tis the light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the smiles on your faces.<br /></span> +<span class="i9">—<i>Selected</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg2_mother.gif" width="500" height="192" alt="Mother's Valentines" /> +</div> + +<h3>By Elizabeth P. Allan</h3> + + +<p>“Davie boy, I wish you would get up early to-morrow morning,” said +Mrs. Forbes; “I want your help in sending out some valentines.”</p> + +<p>Davie opened his sleepy eyes wide. “Why, mother,” he said, “I did not +know that <i>you</i> were in the valentine business!”</p> + +<p>“There hasn't been a fourteenth of February since I can remember,” +answered his mother smiling, “that I haven't sent out at least one +valentine. Do you know what Valentine Day means, Davie?”</p> + +<p>“It means sending funny pictures to the other fellows,” grinned Davie.</p> + +<p>“First of all, it means a Love Day,” said Mrs. Forbes, “and valentines +are supposed to be sweethearts' love letters. But I don't see why +sweethearts should have a corner on love, do you, Davie?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg2_davie.png" width="227" height="500" alt="Illustration: Davie helps mother deliver a new kind of valentine" /> +</div> + +<p>“What sort of valentines do you send, mother?” asked the little boy. +His curiosity had waked him up and made him forget that the hands of +the clock had left his bedtime far behind.</p> + +<p>“My valentines used to be made of little pictures cut out and pasted +on a card or a piece of note paper, when I was no older than you,” +said Davie's mother; “and my mother used to write on them in her fine, +copy-book hand, little verses like this:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>“‘The rose is red,<br /></span> +<span>The violet's blue,<br /></span> +<span>Sugar's sweet,<br /></span> +<span>And so are you!’”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Davie laughed aloud at the idea of his mother ever having been such a +little girl.</p> + +<p>“And then, when I was in my teens,” she went on, “I saved my dimes and +bought fine valentines made of silver paper cut into hearts and +cupids, with what I thought beautiful ‘poetry’ printed on them.”</p> + +<p>“And what are your valentines like now?” asked Davie.</p> + +<p>“You'll find them rather heavy, I'm afraid,” said his mother merrily; +“you see, Davie, I have found out that Love has something else to do +besides playing with silver hearts and cupids, though that's all right +too. There are some poor and tired and lonely people in the world who +don't want you to give them money, or to offer them help on most days +of the year; it hurts their feelings. But on love-days, like +Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and Valentine's Day, you can give them a +love gift, and they are pleased. I have some like that for you to +carry around to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>When Davie came downstairs early the next morning, he brought with +him one of his cherished “Peter Rabbit” books. “Mother,” he said, “I +want to begin to keep Valentine Day like you do.”</p> + +<p>So “Peter Rabbit” found himself tucked in Mrs. Tobin's bundle for Jack +Tobin, who had never had that sort of valentine, or indeed any sort, +in his life. And it was queer how all day long the thought of that new +sort of valentine he had sent out made Davie smile to himself!</p> + +<hr /> + + +<h3>VALENTINES.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>The wind was blowing down our street,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And it was snowing some;<br /></span> +<span>But I watched from the chilly porch<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To see the postman come.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Across the street to Elsie's door;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then I meant to run<br /></span> +<span>Before she got the valentine—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I knew that she'd get one.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>I knew it would be beautiful,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With lace and hearts and things,<br /></span> +<span>And pretty verses on the leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tied with ribbon strings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>I knew the verses all by heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I knew the bows were pink;<br /></span> +<span>The hearts were gold; the lace was white—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh, what would Elsie think!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>I saw the postman come at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Elsie at the door;<br /></span> +<span>She got a valentine, sure 'nough—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I knew she would before.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>And then I hid inside our hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, when his whistle blew,<br /></span> +<span>The postman called: “Hello! hello!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A valentine for you!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sure 'nough, I got a valentine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With lace and hearts and things,<br /></span> +<span>And pretty verses on the leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And tied with ribbon strings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>And I have wondered, ever since,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And guessed if Elsie knew<br /></span> +<span>For sure I'd get a valentine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before the postman blew,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Just like I knew that she'd get one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And knew her verses, too.<br /></span> +<span>I never s'posed that I'd get one—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Do you guess Elsie knew?<br /></span> +<span>—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Ellen D. Masters</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr /> + + +<h3>A TREE TALK.</h3> + + +<p>What a wonderful thing a tree is! A live thing, a useful thing, a +beautiful thing, and so common that we scarcely think of it as a +wonder at all.</p> + +<p>Think of the great families of trees, the maple, the beech, the birch, +the hemlock, the spruce, the oak, and so on and on and on. So many +alike, and yet each one different. What a world of wonders!</p> + +<p>In the human family there are oddities, you know, and so in the tree +family.</p> + +<p>There is the whistling tree, for instance. It grows in the West India +Islands. It bears pods with open edges, and the wind passing through +them makes the whistling sound which gives the tree its name.</p> + +<p>Then there is the cow tree, which yields a delicious creamy milk. This +tree grows in South America, and often looks like a dead tree, but if +it is tapped the milk will flow out freely. Sunrise is “milking time,” +when the natives come with their jugs and fill them with the sweet, +nourishing fluid.—<i>Selected</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg3_twenty.gif" width="750" height="158" +alt="TWENTY VALENTINES By Marion Mallette Thornton" /> +</div> + +<p>“Oh,” said Millicent, watching the postman's blue coat up the street. +“I wish he would come here day after to-morrow and bring me twenty +valentines!”</p> + +<p>“Will he, Mitty?” Jimmy-Boy asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>Millicent shook her head. “'Course not, Jimmy-Boy. I know only six +little girls; I couldn't get but six.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Sara was listening. She was Millicent's very prettiest auntie +from the city, and she nearly always found a way to help.</p> + +<p>“How would you like to <i>send</i> twenty valentines?” she asked.</p> + +<p>Millicent laughed. “Why, auntie, I couldn't send but six, either. I +don't know any more girls. Besides, I haven't any more valentines.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose I should show you how to make twenty valentines, and find +twenty little girls to send them to; would you like, to do it?”</p> + +<p>Millicent came running from the window with Jimmy-Boy close behind +her.</p> + +<p>“I'd love to, auntie! Please show me right away.”</p> + +<p>“Love to, auntie, right away,” echoed Jimmy-Boy.</p> + +<p>“You can help,” Aunt Sara promised. “You can bring the mucilage while +Millicent gets the scissors.”</p> + +<p>When they came back with these, Aunt Sara had a pile of gay pictures +on the table, and some sheets of thick white paper.</p> + +<p>“We will cut this into hearts,” she said, “and you can cut out these +birds and flowers and paste them on. Let's see which can make the +neatest and prettiest ones.”</p> + +<p>Jimmy-Boy had to be helped a little in cutting out pictures, but he +had learned to paste neatly at kindergarten, and his valentines were +so pretty it was hard for Aunt Sara to choose between his and +Millicent's.</p> + +<p>It was such fun making them that Millicent almost forgot about the +twenty little girls they were to go to.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg3_making.gif" width="600" height="497" alt="Illustration: Let's see who can make the neatest and prettiest ones" /> +</div> + +<p>“Who are they, auntie?” she asked when she remembered. “Where do they +live?”</p> + +<p>“Away down in the city,” Aunt Sara explained. “Each one in a little +white bed in a Children's Hospital. I don't know their names, but I'll +send them to the superintendent, and they will get them safely on +Valentine's Day. You can't think how happy they will be.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I just like to try to think!” cried Millicent. “I'm glad we made +them so nice.”</p> + +<p>The twenty valentines went off in their white envelopes the next +morning.</p> + +<p>On Valentine's Day the postman brought Milly six from the six little +girls and two from Jimmy-Boy and Aunt Sara. They were lovely, and +there were some for Jimmy-Boy, but they did not please the children +nearly as much as a letter that came a week later.</p> + +<p>It was from the hospital superintendent and said: “I wish you could +have seen my dear little sick girls smile when they saw their pretty +valentines. They looked at them all day and slept with them under +their pillows at night. One tiny girl kept hers in her hand. They all +send a big ‘Thank-you’ to Millicent and Jimmy-Boy.”</p> + +<p>“Next year we'll begin sooner and make forty,” Millicent decided; +“it's lots more fun than getting them, isn't it, Jimmy-Boy?”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>HAROLD'S SHETLAND PONY.</h3> + + +<p>On Harold's birthday Uncle George gave him a Shetland pony.</p> + +<p>I never saw anyone so surprised as Harold was. He thanked his uncle so +many times that I thought Uncle George would be all tired out saying, +“You're welcome.”</p> + +<p>The week of the Flower Festival here in Santa Barbara, where we live, +Harold drove his pony in the parade.</p> + +<p>The carriage was all covered with pink roses. There were roses all +over the canopy top, and all over the dashboard, and along the sides, +and up the back, and on the seat where Harold sat. And the pony had a +collar of roses, and the roses were wreathed in the harness and wound +in the wheels.</p> + +<p>Harold enjoyed the parade very much, but he never thought of taking a +prize till the money was sent to him. He was as pleased as could be.</p> + +<p>“What will you buy with the money, Harold?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Well, you see,” said Harold, “the money doesn't really belong to me. +It belongs to the Shetland pony, and I would like to talk about what +would be the nicest thing to do for the pony.”</p> + +<p>So we all talked about it and decided that the nicest thing we could +do for the pony would be to put a big screen window in the front of +his stall, so he would not be troubled with flies.—<i>Selected</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>FLO'S VALENTINE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>“I wonder where I'd better send<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This valentine.” said Flo;<br /></span> +<span>“It's pretty, and my dearest friend<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would like it much, I know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“My dearest friend is Nelly May;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll have a lot, I s'pose;<br /></span> +<span>She always does, for she's a girl<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Most everybody knows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“I want to send it awful bad<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Nelly May, for she<br /></span> +<span>Will likely send her loveliest one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To her dear friend—that's me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“But there is little Molly Jones—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She said, the other day.<br /></span> +<span>She'd never had a valentine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In all her life; now say,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“I've half a mind to send her this;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twill s'prise her so, you see.<br /></span> +<span>That won't be selfish, for I know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll not send one to me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>“And Nelly May won't miss it, for<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She'll have so many; so<br /></span> +<span>I'll start right off and mail it now<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As quick as I can go.”<br /></span> +<span>—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Helen M. Richardson</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr /> + + +<h3>HOW BLANCA SAVED THE KITTENS.</h3> + + +<p>Blanca was a pretty fox terrier who lived on the fourth floor of a big +apartment house, and the four kittens were her adopted family. For +when the kittens' mother died and left them wee, helpless babies, +Blanca at once proved the kindness of her heart by taking and caring +for them as if they had been her very own.</p> + +<p>One day a great danger came to Blanca and her family, as well as to +everyone else in the building. A blue mist began to drift through the +halls, there was the smell of smoke, then someone cried “Fire!” and +the people in the different flats rushed out of their rooms in a +panic.</p> + +<p>Quickly a big, shiny, brass fire engine rattled up, followed by the +hose cart, and the wagon loaded with long ladders if they should be +needed. The firemen rushed in, dragging lengths of hose, the smoke +grew thicker and the confusion worse.</p> + +<p>Some of the people were so frightened that they did not know what they +were doing. But there was one who did not lose her presence of mind, +and that was the little dog. When the first alarm was given, Blanca +ran down to see what it all meant. But she was not satisfied to be +safe herself, and leave her foster babies in danger. Up she went +again, up the stairways filled with firemen and excited tenants to the +top floor, and down she came jumping over hose pipe, dodging between +firemen's legs, with a kitten in her mouth.</p> + +<p>This she carried out and laid down where it would be safe, then +started back again through smoke and flame and heat. Four times she +made the trip to the top floor, and each time she came back with a +kitten in her mouth. Nor did she rest till they were all out of +danger.</p> + +<p>All the people who had watched the little dog said how brave she was. +And so we all say. But what made Blanca brave was because she thought +of the kittens instead of herself.—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Adele E. +Thompson</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Learn to treat everybody with respect and consideration.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>A good friend is worth trying to keep.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR LESSON—For Feb. 15.</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h3>PREPARED BY MARGUERITE COOK.</h3> + +<hr /> + + +<p>Title.—Christ's Hatred of Shams.—Luke 11:37-54.</p> + +<p>Golden Text.—Be not deceived; God is not mocked—Gal. 6:7.</p> + +<p><i>Beginners Golden Text</i>.—<i>The day is thine, the night also is +thine</i>.—Ps. 74: 16.</p> + +<p>Truth.—God looketh upon the heart.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<p>1. One day when Jesus was teaching the people a Pharisee invited him +to dine with him.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible1.gif" width="500" height="348" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>2. Jesus went with him, for he hoped to be able to teach him how to +truly love and serve God.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible2.gif" width="400" height="363" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>3. The Pharisee was surprised that Jesus sat down to the table to eat +without first washing his hands.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible3.gif" width="450" height="311" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>4. Jesus told him that it was true that the Pharisees made much of +washing their hands but that their hearts were far from clean.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible4.gif" width="400" height="290" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>5. Jesus told him that God made the soul as well as the body and +wanted the soul kept clean and pure.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_purify.gif" width="275" height="340" alt="PURIFY YOUR HEARTS" /> + +<p>6. They loved to be thought great and good but were selfish and +unkind.</p> + +<p>7. When they prayed or gave alms to the poor it was to be seen and +praised by others.</p> + +<img src="images/pg4_bible5.gif" width="274" height="300" alt="Illustration" /> + +<p>8. Jesus also blamed those who made life hard for others and made +things easy for themselves.</p> + +<p>9. God looks into our hearts and sees what we really are.</p> + +<p>10. It is useless for us to try to deceive God.</p> + +<p>11. He knows all the time if we have wicked, selfish, impure hearts, +no matter how hard we try to seem good.</p> + +<p>12. To please God we must have pure hearts and live pure, true, loving +lives.</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>QUESTIONS.</h4> + +<p>What is the Golden Text?</p> + +<p>What is the Truth?</p> + +<p>1. Who invited Jesus to dine with him?</p> + +<p>2. What did Jesus hope to be able to teach him?</p> + +<p>3. At what was the Pharisee surprised?</p> + +<p>4. What did Jesus tell him about the hearts of the Pharisees?</p> + +<p>5. What did Jesus tell him about the body and soul?</p> + +<p>6. Although they loved to be thought great and good, what were they?</p> + +<p>7. Why did they pray and give alms to the poor?</p> + +<p>8. Whom did Jesus also blame?</p> + +<p>9. When God looks into our hearts what does he see?</p> + +<p>10. What is it useless for us to try to do?</p> + +<p>11. What does he know?</p> + +<p>12. What must we do to please God?</p> +<hr /> + +<h4>LESSON HYMN.</h4> + +<p><i>Tune</i>—“Jesus loves me, this I know,” omitting chorus (E flat).</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>We should all be very sure<br /></span> +<span>That our hearts are good and pure;<br /></span> +<span>Jesus knows if we are true,<br /></span> +<span>He knows all we say or do.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Title of Lesson for Feb. 22.</h4> + +<p>Faith Destroying Fear.—Luke 12: 1-12.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Golden Text for Feb. 22.</h4> + +<p>Every one who shall confess me before men, him shall the Son of man +also confess before the angels of God.—Luke 12:8.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Beginners Golden Text for Feb. 22.</h4> + +<p><i>He careth for you</i>.—1 Peter 5:7.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/pg4_advice.gif" width="525" height="139" alt="Advice to Boys and Girls" /> +</div> + +<h3>Freddy's Way.</h3> + + +<p>When the clock struck eleven, Freddy turned from the window where he +had been watching for nearly an hour and he said: “Guess Dan has +forgotten to come for me. I think I'd better write a letter to +mother.” His aunt, whom he was visiting, answered:</p> + +<p>“That will be a sensible thing to do, dear.”</p> + +<p>Freddy worked very hard on his letter. When it was finished, he said: +“It doesn't look as nice as it might, but I guess mother will know I +tried to do my best.” His aunt replied:</p> + +<p>“I'm sure she will, anyway, the main thing was to keep your promise +and write to her.”</p> + +<p>Presently, Freddy took his cap and went outdoors to find amusement for +himself; it was a beautiful warm day, just the kind when a boy loves +to go swimming, and he thought longingly of the river. But his aunt +did not wish him to go alone, and for some reason Dan had failed to +call for him. The next-door neighbor was mowing his lawn and Freddy +asked: “Need any help?” The man answered:</p> + +<p>“Sure, I was just wishing for a boy to rake the grass.”</p> + +<p>Freddy set about his work whistling and the neighbor never guessed +that his small helper had had a disappointment that morning. It was +Freddy's happy way when he could not do one thing to find another and +do that cheerily.—<i>Written for Dew Drops by Marie Deacon Hanson</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A Good Rule.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>We have the wisest teacher, and she has<br /></span> +<span class="i2">given this rule<br /></span> +<span>That helps us in our lessons—you can use<br /></span> +<span class="i2">it in your school.<br /></span> +<span>Always add a smile or two when things<br /></span> +<span class="i2">are going wrong,<br /></span> +<span>Subtract the frowns that try to come<br /></span> +<span class="i2">when lessons seem too long,<br /></span> +<span>Then multiply your efforts when the<br /></span> +<span class="i2">figures won't come right,<br /></span> +<span>Divide your pleasures day by day with<br /></span> +<span class="i2">every one in sight<br /></span> +<span>Now if you always use this rule you'll<br /></span> +<span class="i2">have a happy day,<br /></span> +<span>For lessons then are easy, and the hours<br /></span> +<span class="i2">fly away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>[Entered at the Post Office at Elgin, Ill., as Second Class Mail +Matter.]</p> + +<p>Price of Dew Drops.—In lots of five or more, to one address, 20 cents +per copy per year, or 5½ cents per copy per quarter. Address,</p> + +<p>DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILL.</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February +15, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEW DROPS *** + +***** This file should be named 14116-h.htm or 14116-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/1/1/14116/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ronald Holder, John Hagerson, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February 15, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 22, 2004 [EBook #14116] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEW DROPS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ronald Holder, John Hagerson, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + +DEW DROPS + +VOL. 37. NO. 7. WEEKLY. + +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS. +GEORGE E. COOK, EDITOR. + +FEBRUARY 15, 1914. + + +How Arthur Made Valentines + +By MAY G. MOOAR + + +Arthur had a box of paints given him for Christmas, and he had learned +to color pictures very prettily; so just as he was finishing the dress +of a gorgeous Japanese lady such a happy thought came to him that he +nearly spilled some yellow paint all over Miss Matsuki's gay pink +dress, in his haste to find mother and tell her about it. + +"I want to make my valentines all myself this year," he exclaimed +excitedly as soon as the yellow paint was safely back in the box, "for +now I can paint. Why can't I paint some valentines, same's Aunt +Frances did last year?" + +"Why, I think you could, dear," mother answered. + +"'Course I don't mean I could make quite such lovely flowers as she +did," Arthur went on, "but I think it would be lots more fun to do it +myself than to buy them." + +"So do I, Arthur," mother said, "and I think if you look through those +papers in the lower drawer you'll find some pictures to cut out that +would make pretty valentines. Then you could color them with your +paints and paste them on a sheet of note paper." + +"But, mother, don't valentines have some verses written on them +besides the pictures? Aunt Frances' did. Where can I get those?" + +"Perhaps I could write those for you," mother laughed, "if I tried +real hard." + +"Could you really write verses?" Arthur asked in round-eyed wonder. +"Then we'll have some lovely valentines, won't we? I'll make one for +you, and one for father, and Alice and John and Clifton and Barbara +and oh, lots of folks." + +"Well, I guess you better get to work right away, if you've such a lot +to do," advised mother, "and I had better begin on the poetry." + +It was fun to find the pictures, for there were such a lot to select +from, and by supper time Arthur had a nice pile all ready to paint +next morning. + +Two days before Valentine's day they were all done--prettily colored +and pasted on note paper with a little verse that mother had written, +printed in Arthur's very best writing. + +[Illustration: _Arthur decorates the valentines with his new paints +while mother writes the verses_.] + +"Aren't they bee-u-ti-ful," he exclaimed as he laid them in a row on +the dining-room table. + +"They are very nice, dear," mother said, "and which do you think are +the prettiest ones?" + +Arthur looked a long time at the row of little valentines and then he +said, "These two." One had a little curly-haired child carrying a big +bunch of flowers in her hand, and the verse read: + + "This bunch of roses I'm bringing, + Is a valentine for you, + To show that in storm or in sunshine + My love is always true." + +And the other valentine had a picture of two little boys carrying a +big basket between them, and this was the little verse: + + "What do you s'pose our basket holds? + Give guess one and two. + You'll never think, so I must tell: + It's full of love for you." + +"And to whom are you going to give the two prettiest ones?" asked +mother. + +An earnest look came into Arthur's eyes. + +"I fought I'd send the little-girl one to that lame boy at the corner. +I don't know him very well, but he looks kind of lonely, you said, +mother. Don't you s'pose he'd like it?" + +Mother nodded. "And who is to have the other?" + +A little hand stole into mother's, and two brown eyes full of love +were lifted to mother's face. + +"That is for you," he said. + + + * * * * * + + +"BOB'S LOST HIS TEMPER." + +Uncle Will, visiting in the family, heard this remark quite often. One +day he said to Bob: + +"I think it rather a fortunate loss, don't you?" + +"What?" asked Bob, in surprise. "It wasn't a very good one, you know. +If I were you I'd try to get a better one, and then never lose it." + +Good advice for Bob. + + + * * * * * + + +GOING ALONE. + + +"I'm afraid will have to go alone this morning, Harlis," said mamma. +"My head is getting worse instead of better. You think it will be all +right for Harlis to go, don't you, papa?" + +Mrs. Wentworth looked up inquiringly into the face of a tall man who +had just entered the room. + +"Certainly. He is big enough, and knows the way. Why not let him go?" +her husband answered. + +Harlis was quite proud to hear that opinion, and adopting something of +his papa's emphatic tone, he said, "Of course, I'm big enough, mamma. +Willie Nelson goes every single Sunday alone, and he isn't only two +weeks older than I am. You needn't worry a bit. I'll take Esther, too, +if you want me to. I'll take care of her." + +Mamma smiled a little as she answered, "No, dear, I thank you just the +same, but Annie will take care of Esther this morning. If I let you go +alone, you must promise to go straight to Sunday-school." + +"Yes, mamma," answered Harlis, very willingly. + +Proudly he walked down the street. He felt sure everyone was noticing +him. One of the newsboys ran past him and shouted, "Hello, little +chap!" and grinned. + +Mamma had said, "Be a good boy, Harlis," before he left home. He +couldn't help feeling how foolish it was for her always to say that, +but he excused her with the thought that it was probably mamma-like to +be a little anxious and worried about such things. + +"Harlis! Harlis!" + +Harlis was just entering one of the chief business streets through +which he had to pass to reach the church. He turned and saw Willie +Nelson running as fast as his little legs could carry him to catch up. + +"All alone?" Willie asked. + +"Yes." + +"So'm I. My mamma can't come to Sunday-school. She makes me go, +though. I don't care much. Let's go this way." + +"No. I can't. Mamma said for me to go just the same way I always did. +I promised." + +"Did you? My, I go the way I want to. This is just as good as any," he +added cheerfully. "Let's look in here. Ain't that fine?" + +It was a display in the candy shop they were looking at. Across the +window, hung from the gas jet by ribbons, was a huge candy cane. + +"See that," said Willie, pulling out from his pocket a five-cent +piece. "Know what I am going to do with it?" + +"Take it to Miss Beatrice for the poor little girl she told about." + +"No, sir. Going to get some candy. Five cents don't get much, though. +Not the best kind. That costs money." + +Harlis put his hand in his pocket and quickly pulled it out. But the +action did not escape Willis' sharp eyes. + +"You got any?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"Let's see. Oh, a nickel! Thought maybe it was just a penny. What a +lot ten cents would get. What kind do you like best?" + +"I like chocolate best." + +"Do you? Why, so do I. Say we get some?" + +"I don't believe mamma would like it. She said we mustn't buy things +on Sunday." + +"She'll never know. That's nothing bad, either." + +When the collection basket was passed around, Harlis looked almost +ready to cry. "Did you forget your money?" said Miss Beatrice, +pleasantly. Harlis so seldom came without it that it was noticeable. + +"Yes'm," answered the little boy, almost without thinking what he was +saying. He was so uncomfortable, and Willie was making eyes at him. + +"Never mind, bring it next Sunday," said Miss Beatrice, noticing the +flushed face and telltale eyes, and not understanding quite what it +meant. + +If mamma had not been sick, the trouble would surely have come out +earlier, because mamma would have seen in a minute that something was +wrong. After the late dinner, there was nothing to do but cuddle up in +the corner of the sofa with his books. Just as it was growing dark, +papa came down from the sick room. He found Harlis with his head +buried in the sofa cushion. + +"What's the matter?" said papa briskly, picking up his little boy. +"Lonesome? Too bad! Thought you went to Aunt Lucy's with Esther." + +"I didn't want to," said Harlis, breaking out in big, shaking sobs. + +Papa knew something was wrong, then, and by degrees the story came +out. + +Papa said very little, for he seemed to understand the real suffering +Harlis had already gone through because of his wrongdoings. + +"But the nickel was mine," said Harlis, as he and mamma were talking +it over. + +"Was it?" said mamma. "What did I give it to you for?" + +"For the poor little girl." + +"You can put it back, but you must earn it," she said. + +"Oh, I will! I will!" Harlis was only too glad to do this. "And I'll +never do so again, mamma." + +And his mamma felt sure he never would. + +--_Written for Dew Drops by Florence Maule._ + + * * * * * + + +THE LIGHT OF A SMILE. + + + If it drizzles and pours, + Is there any reason + The weather indoors + Should be dull, like the season? + There is something makes bright + The cloudiest places; + Can you guess? 'Tis the light + Of the smiles on your faces. + --_Selected_. + + * * * * * + + +Mother's Valentines + +By Elizabeth P. Allan + + +"Davie boy, I wish you would get up early to-morrow morning," said +Mrs. Forbes; "I want your help in sending out some valentines." + +Davie opened his sleepy eyes wide. "Why, mother," he said, "I did not +know that _you_ were in the valentine business!" + +"There hasn't been a fourteenth of February since I can remember," +answered his mother smiling, "that I haven't sent out at least one +valentine. Do you know what Valentine Day means, Davie?" + +"It means sending funny pictures to the other fellows," grinned Davie. + +"First of all, it means a Love Day," said Mrs. Forbes, "and valentines +are supposed to be sweethearts' love letters. But I don't see why +sweethearts should have a corner on love, do you, Davie?" + +[Illustration: _Davie helps mother deliver a new kind of valentine._] + +"What sort of valentines do you send, mother?" asked the little boy. +His curiosity had waked him up and made him forget that the hands of +the clock had left his bedtime far behind. + +"My valentines used to be made of little pictures cut out and pasted +on a card or a piece of note paper, when I was no older than you," +said Davie's mother; "and my mother used to write on them in her fine, +copy-book hand, little verses like this: + + "'The rose is red, + The violet's blue, + Sugar's sweet, + And so are you!'" + +Davie laughed aloud at the idea of his mother ever having been such a +little girl. + +"And then, when I was in my teens," she went on, "I saved my dimes and +bought fine valentines made of silver paper cut into hearts and +cupids, with what I thought beautiful 'poetry' printed on them." + +"And what are your valentines like now?" asked Davie. + +"You'll find them rather heavy, I'm afraid," said his mother merrily; +"you see, Davie, I have found out that Love has something else to do +besides playing with silver hearts and cupids, though that's all right +too. There are some poor and tired and lonely people in the world who +don't want you to give them money, or to offer them help on most days +of the year; it hurts their feelings. But on love-days, like +Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and Valentine's Day, you can give them a +love gift, and they are pleased. I have some like that for you to +carry around to-morrow." + +When Davie came downstairs early the next morning, he brought with +him one of his cherished "Peter Rabbit" books. "Mother," he said, "I +want to begin to keep Valentine Day like you do." + +So "Peter Rabbit" found himself tucked in Mrs. Tobin's bundle for Jack +Tobin, who had never had that sort of valentine, or indeed any sort, +in his life. And it was queer how all day long the thought of that new +sort of valentine he had sent out made Davie smile to himself! + + * * * * * + + +VALENTINES. + + + The wind was blowing down our street, + And it was snowing some; + But I watched from the chilly porch + To see the postman come. + + Across the street to Elsie's door; + And then I meant to run + Before she got the valentine-- + I knew that she'd get one. + + I knew it would be beautiful, + With lace and hearts and things, + And pretty verses on the leaves, + And tied with ribbon strings. + + I knew the verses all by heart; + I knew the bows were pink; + The hearts were gold; the lace was white-- + Oh, what would Elsie think! + + I saw the postman come at last, + And Elsie at the door; + She got a valentine, sure 'nough-- + I knew she would before. + + And then I hid inside our hall; + And, when his whistle blew, + The postman called: "Hello! hello!-- + A valentine for you!" + + Sure 'nough, I got a valentine, + With lace and hearts and things, + And pretty verses on the leaves, + And tied with ribbon strings. + + And I have wondered, ever since, + And guessed if Elsie knew + For sure I'd get a valentine, + Before the postman blew, + + Just like I knew that she'd get one + And knew her verses, too. + I never s'posed that I'd get one-- + Do you guess Elsie knew? + --_Written for Dew Drops by Ellen D. Masters_. + + + * * * * * + + +A TREE TALK. + + +What a wonderful thing a tree is! A live thing, a useful thing, a +beautiful thing, and so common that we scarcely think of it as a +wonder at all. + +Think of the great families of trees, the maple, the beech, the birch, +the hemlock, the spruce, the oak, and so on and on and on. So many +alike, and yet each one different. What a world of wonders! + +In the human family there are oddities, you know, and so in the tree +family. + +There is the whistling tree, for instance. It grows in the West India +Islands. It bears pods with open edges, and the wind passing through +them makes the whistling sound which gives the tree its name. + +Then there is the cow tree, which yields a delicious creamy milk. This +tree grows in South America, and often looks like a dead tree, but if +it is tapped the milk will flow out freely. Sunrise is "milking time," +when the natives come with their jugs and fill them with the sweet, +nourishing fluid.--_Selected_. + + * * * * * + + +[Illustration] + +TWENTY VALENTINES + +By Marion Mallette Thornton + + +"Oh," said Millicent, watching the postman's blue coat up the street. +"I wish he would come here day after to-morrow and bring me twenty +valentines!" + +"Will he, Mitty?" Jimmy-Boy asked eagerly. + +Millicent shook her head. "'Course not, Jimmy-Boy. I know only six +little girls; I couldn't get but six." + +Aunt Sara was listening. She was Millicent's very prettiest auntie +from the city, and she nearly always found a way to help. + +"How would you like to _send_ twenty valentines?" she asked. + +Millicent laughed. "Why, auntie, I couldn't send but six, either. I +don't know any more girls. Besides, I haven't any more valentines." + +"Suppose I should show you how to make twenty valentines, and find +twenty little girls to send them to; would you like, to do it?" + +Millicent came running from the window with Jimmy-Boy close behind +her. + +"I'd love to, auntie! Please show me right away." + +"Love to, auntie, right away," echoed Jimmy-Boy. + +"You can help," Aunt Sara promised. "You can bring the mucilage while +Millicent gets the scissors." + +When they came back with these, Aunt Sara had a pile of gay pictures +on the table, and some sheets of thick white paper. + +"We will cut this into hearts," she said, "and you can cut out these +birds and flowers and paste them on. Let's see which can make the +neatest and prettiest ones." + +Jimmy-Boy had to be helped a little in cutting out pictures, but he +had learned to paste neatly at kindergarten, and his valentines were +so pretty it was hard for Aunt Sara to choose between his and +Millicent's. + +It was such fun making them that Millicent almost forgot about the +twenty little girls they were to go to. + +[Illustration: "_Let's see who can make the neatest and prettiest +ones_."] + +"Who are they, auntie?" she asked when she remembered. "Where do they +live?" + +"Away down in the city," Aunt Sara explained. "Each one in a little +white bed in a Children's Hospital. I don't know their names, but I'll +send them to the superintendent, and they will get them safely on +Valentine's Day. You can't think how happy they will be." + +"Oh, I just like to try to think!" cried Millicent. "I'm glad we made +them so nice." + +The twenty valentines went off in their white envelopes the next +morning. + +On Valentine's Day the postman brought Milly six from the six little +girls and two from Jimmy-Boy and Aunt Sara. They were lovely, and +there were some for Jimmy-Boy, but they did not please the children +nearly as much as a letter that came a week later. + +It was from the hospital superintendent and said: "I wish you could +have seen my dear little sick girls smile when they saw their pretty +valentines. They looked at them all day and slept with them under +their pillows at night. One tiny girl kept hers in her hand. They all +send a big 'Thank-you' to Millicent and Jimmy-Boy." + +"Next year we'll begin sooner and make forty," Millicent decided; +"it's lots more fun than getting them, isn't it, Jimmy-Boy?" + + * * * * * + + +HAROLD'S SHETLAND PONY. + + +On Harold's birthday Uncle George gave him a Shetland pony. + +I never saw anyone so surprised as Harold was. He thanked his uncle so +many times that I thought Uncle George would be all tired out saying, +"You're welcome." + +The week of the Flower Festival here in Santa Barbara, where we live, +Harold drove his pony in the parade. + +The carriage was all covered with pink roses. There were roses all +over the canopy top, and all over the dashboard, and along the sides, +and up the back, and on the seat where Harold sat. And the pony had a +collar of roses, and the roses were wreathed in the harness and wound +in the wheels. + +Harold enjoyed the parade very much, but he never thought of taking a +prize till the money was sent to him. He was as pleased as could be. + +"What will you buy with the money, Harold?" I asked. + +"Well, you see," said Harold, "the money doesn't really belong to me. +It belongs to the Shetland pony, and I would like to talk about what +would be the nicest thing to do for the pony." + +So we all talked about it and decided that the nicest thing we could +do for the pony would be to put a big screen window in the front of +his stall, so he would not be troubled with flies.--_Selected_. + + * * * * * + + +FLO'S VALENTINE + + + "I wonder where I'd better send + This valentine." said Flo; + "It's pretty, and my dearest friend + Would like it much, I know. + + "My dearest friend is Nelly May; + She'll have a lot, I s'pose; + She always does, for she's a girl + 'Most everybody knows. + + "I want to send it awful bad + To Nelly May, for she + Will likely send her loveliest one + To her dear friend--that's me. + + "But there is little Molly Jones-- + She said, the other day. + She'd never had a valentine + In all her life; now say, + + "I've half a mind to send her this; + 'Twill s'prise her so, you see. + That won't be selfish, for I know + She'll not send one to me. + + "And Nelly May won't miss it, for + She'll have so many; so + I'll start right off and mail it now + As quick as I can go." + --_Written for Dew Drops by Helen M. Richardson_. + + + * * * * * + + +HOW BLANCA SAVED THE KITTENS. + + +Blanca was a pretty fox terrier who lived on the fourth floor of a big +apartment house, and the four kittens were her adopted family. For +when the kittens' mother died and left them wee, helpless babies, +Blanca at once proved the kindness of her heart by taking and caring +for them as if they had been her very own. + +One day a great danger came to Blanca and her family, as well as to +everyone else in the building. A blue mist began to drift through the +halls, there was the smell of smoke, then someone cried "Fire!" and +the people in the different flats rushed out of their rooms in a +panic. + +Quickly a big, shiny, brass fire engine rattled up, followed by the +hose cart, and the wagon loaded with long ladders if they should be +needed. The firemen rushed in, dragging lengths of hose, the smoke +grew thicker and the confusion worse. + +Some of the people were so frightened that they did not know what they +were doing. But there was one who did not lose her presence of mind, +and that was the little dog. When the first alarm was given, Blanca +ran down to see what it all meant. But she was not satisfied to be +safe herself, and leave her foster babies in danger. Up she went +again, up the stairways filled with firemen and excited tenants to the +top floor, and down she came jumping over hose pipe, dodging between +firemen's legs, with a kitten in her mouth. + +This she carried out and laid down where it would be safe, then +started back again through smoke and flame and heat. Four times she +made the trip to the top floor, and each time she came back with a +kitten in her mouth. Nor did she rest till they were all out of +danger. + +All the people who had watched the little dog said how brave she was. +And so we all say. But what made Blanca brave was because she thought +of the kittens instead of herself.--_Written for Dew Drops by Adele E. +Thompson_. + + * * * * * + +Learn to treat everybody with respect and consideration. + + * * * * * + +A good friend is worth trying to keep. + + * * * * * + + +OUR LESSON--For Feb. 15. + + * * * * * + +PREPARED BY MARGUERITE COOK. + + * * * * * + + +Title.--Christ's Hatred of Shams.--Luke 11:37-54. + +Golden Text.--Be not deceived; God is not mocked--Gal. 6:7. + +_Beginners Golden Text_.--_The day is thine, the night also is +thine_.--Ps. 74:16. + +Truth.--God looketh upon the heart. + +1. One day when Jesus was teaching the people a Pharisee invited him +to dine with him. + +[Illustration] + +2. Jesus went with him, for he hoped to be able to teach him how to +truly love and serve God. + +[Illustration] + +3. The Pharisee was surprised that Jesus sat down to the table to eat +without first washing his hands. + +[Illustration] + +4. Jesus told him that it was true that the Pharisees made much of +washing their hands but that their hearts were far from clean. + +[Illustration] + +5. Jesus told him that God made the soul as well as the body and +wanted the soul kept clean and pure. + +[Illustration] + +6. They loved to be thought great and good but were selfish and +unkind. + +7. When they prayed or gave alms to the poor it was to be seen and +praised by others. + +[Illustration] + +8. Jesus also blamed those who made life hard for others and made +things easy for themselves. + +9. God looks into our hearts and sees what we really are. + +10. It is useless for us to try to deceive God. + +11. He knows all the time if we have wicked, selfish, impure hearts, +no matter how hard we try to seem good. + +12. To please God we must have pure hearts and live pure, true, loving +lives. + + * * * * * + +QUESTIONS. + +What is the Golden Text? + +What is the Truth? + +1. Who invited Jesus to dine with him? + +2. What did Jesus hope to be able to teach him? + +3. At what was the Pharisee surprised? + +4. What did Jesus tell him about the hearts of the Pharisees? + +5. What did Jesus tell him about the body and soul? + +6. Although they loved to be thought great and good, what were they? + +7. Why did they pray and give alms to the poor? + +8. Whom did Jesus also blame? + +9. When God looks into our hearts what does he see? + +10. What is it useless for us to try to do? + +11. What does he know? + +12. What must we do to please God? + + * * * * * + +LESSON HYMN. + +_Tune_--"Jesus loves me, this I know," omitting chorus (E flat). + + We should all be very sure + That our hearts are good and pure; + Jesus knows if we are true, + He knows all we say or do. + + * * * * * + +Title of Lesson for Feb. 22. + +Faith Destroying Fear.--Luke 12: 1-12. + + * * * * * + +Golden Text for Feb. 22. + +Every one who shall confess me before men, him shall the Son of man +also confess before the angels of God.--Luke 12:8. + + * * * * * + +Beginners Golden Text for Feb. 22. + +_He careth for you_.--1 Peter 5:7. + + * * * * * + + +Advice to Boys and Girls + + +Freddy's Way. + + +When the clock struck eleven, Freddy turned from the window where he +had been watching for nearly an hour and he said: "Guess Dan has +forgotten to come for me. I think I'd better write a letter to +mother." His aunt, whom he was visiting, answered: + +"That will be a sensible thing to do, dear." + +Freddy worked very hard on his letter. When it was finished, he said: +"It doesn't look as nice as it might, but I guess mother will know I +tried to do my best." His aunt replied: + +"I'm sure she will, anyway, the main thing was to keep your promise +and write to her." + +Presently, Freddy took his cap and went outdoors to find amusement for +himself; it was a beautiful warm day, just the kind when a boy loves +to go swimming, and he thought longingly of the river. But his aunt +did not wish him to go alone, and for some reason Dan had failed to +call for him. The next-door neighbor was mowing his lawn and Freddy +asked: "Need any help?" The man answered: + +"Sure, I was just wishing for a boy to rake the grass." + +Freddy set about his work whistling and the neighbor never guessed +that his small helper had had a disappointment that morning. It was +Freddy's happy way when he could not do one thing to find another and +do that cheerily.--_Written for Dew Drops by Marie Deacon Hanson_. + + * * * * * + +A Good Rule. + + + We have the wisest teacher, and she has + given this rule + That helps us in our lessons--you can use + it in your school. + Always add a smile or two when things + are going wrong, + Subtract the frowns that try to come + when lessons seem too long, + Then multiply your efforts when the + figures won't come right, + Divide your pleasures day by day with + every one in sight + Now if you always use this rule you'll + have a happy day, + For lessons then are easy, and the hours + fly away. + + * * * * * + +[Entered at the Post Office at Elgin, Ill., as Second Class Mail +Matter.] + +Price of Dew Drops.--In lots of five or more, to one address, 20 cents +per copy per year, or 5-1/2 cents per copy per quarter. Address, + +DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILL. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 7, February +15, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEW DROPS *** + +***** This file should be named 14116.txt or 14116.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/1/1/14116/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Ronald Holder, John Hagerson, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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