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FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK

FLYAWAY AND VAGABOND

By IDA LEE DAVIS

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FLYAWAY was the cutest pug puppy you ever One morning, Vagabond lay sleeping under saw. Vagabond was the most disreputable the big peony bush that was full of lovely cat you ever heard of. Flyaway came from pink blossoms. Flyaway suspected that England, with his mother, the Countess. Vagabond had been on a frolic, for his coat Vagabond was a soldier of fortune, and came was rumpled and soiled and one ear was torn. from no one knew where. Flyaway always "I'll fix him!” he yapped softly, and had lived in luxury. Vagabond never had looked about to see if any one heard. No, had a home until Martha and Little Jane there was n't even a bird in sight. The only found him and brought him to theirs.

sound was that made by Vagabond, snoring. Flyaway had a snubby black nose and a Flyaway smiled, if ever a little dog did tiny tail that curled over his back like a smile (and you and I know that little dogs little pig's. He had a habit of sticking out can), to think of the fun that he was going to the tip of his tongue. This made him look have with the great fighter Vagabond. very saucy. Flyaway also had big black pop- He sniffed his way closer and closer toward eyes that twinkled with mischief.

the peony bush. Vagabond must have been Vagabond was the biggest cat you ever very tired, for he did n't have even one eye dreamed of. Little Jane said he was “most open. When Flyaway was near enough, he as big as a whale." Vagabond was n't Mal- gave a sharp yap. tese, nor tiger-striped, like Maria, the house- Up jumped Vagabond, lashing his big

tail. No doubt that yap sounded like a clap of thunder. Perhaps he thought the house was tumbling down! When he saw that it was only Flyaway his eyes blazed and he puffed up his hair.

Fly away danced. Never before had he seen Vagabond so angry. And when he did n't chase and spit at him, he grew bolder. He bounced forward

and tried to snip VagaEdith Butler

bond's nose or pull

his tail. "NEVER BEFORE HAD HE SEEN VAGABOND SO ANGRY"

Vagabond's eyes cat; he was neither Angora nor Persian, as grew larger and larger; he lashed his tail were Phoebe and Lazarus; in fact, Vagabond harder. Flyaway grew still bolder. He could was like nobody but himself. He fought

He fought n't imagine any one so angry that he could n't whenever he had a chance. Sometimes he move. But he took care to keep clear of went out and hunted one up.

Vagabond's sharp claws. No one knew betFlyaway did nothing but play and get into ter than Flyaway just how sharp those mischief. He loved to tease, especially claws were! Vagabond

Presently Flyaway grew tired, it's no fun

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if the one you 're teasing does n't get angry, afraid, and we 'll save Flyaway. You must n't —and turned to see if any one was watching.

worry.” And what do you think happened?

In a jiffy, off came shoes and stockings, and Vagabond made a sudden leap. And Martha and Jane were scrambling down the where do you suppose he landed?

'bank. It was a race between them to see Why, right on the back of the mischievous who would arrive first. Flyaway!

Look, Martha!” cried Little Jane. "I Away they rolled, down the lawn, Flyaway believe Flyaway 's caught in the waterheld fast in Vagabond's paws.

First one was

We must hurry-he 'll be drowned!" on top, then the other. You could hardly tell which was which, they went so fast and were so close together.

How the guineafowl flew and the peacocks screamed! But the one who made the most noise was Flyaway. “Murder! Murder!” he yelped. “Martha! Jane! Help! H-e-l-p! 0-0-0-oooh!"

Martha and Little Jane could n't help hearing, and they came running. But Vagabond did n't stop. He seemed to hold Flyaway tighter than ever and roll the faster. On the two went, Martha

''MARTHA AND I ARE N'T AFRAID. WE 'LL SAVE FLYAWAY'and Little Jane following, until they reached the tiny pond at one When the little girls had pulled Flyaway corner of the lawn.

up on the bank the fun began. Flyaway There was a sudden stop. Vagabond wanted to thank them. He tried to shake loosened his grip. Away went Flyaway! all the water from himself onto them! The "Kersplash!" said the water.

Countess evidently thought it was her duty As Flyaway hit the sharp little stones he to help dry Flyaway, but that little rascal howled at the top of his lungs. The Countess, would n't stand still a minute. Finally, Little his mother, came running. But she did n't Jane marched right up to the mischievous offer to help, not once. She just stood on puppy. The Countess looked anxious. the bank, looked at Martha and Jane, and “You must n't be cross with Vagabond," cried.

Little Jane said to Flyaway, who watched Vagabond also stood on the bank. His her eagerly. As Little Jane spoke she soleyes blazed and he lashed his tail; but he emnly shook her head and her tiny forefinger. did n't look a bit sorry,—not at all,—just “If you tease people, they'll do things to scornful and victorious. At least, that is what make you stop—’specially when they 're Little Jane said.

smarter and bigger than you are. Is n't that Martha lay down and tried to reach Fly- so, Martha?away, but the bank was too high and the Martha nodded. She took Little Jane's puppy too frightened to do anything but hand. howl.

"Let 's tell Mother Dear!" she cried. At this the Countess became very much Away they ran. Flyaway chased them, excited and cried louder. Little Jane hugged barking loudly. her lovingly.

But Mother Dear knew! She had been "You're only a pug, and afraid of the standing at the library window and had seen water,” she said. “But Martha and I are n't it all.

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BY

are

who did so much to give direction to the great
Conference and to insure its high purpose and
achievement.

A GOOD REASON
A FITTING intro-

BY ELIZABETH EVANS HUGHES (AGE 14) duction to the

(Honor Member) LEAGUE this WHEN we stop to consider the reason for which all month is the ac- the leading statesmen of the nine principal councompanying con- tries of the world have come over here to partictribution by one ipate in a conference for the discussion of the

of our Honor Limitation of Armament, and of Far Eastern “A HEADING FOR MARCA."

Members who questions, we are unable fully to grasp the sigMARGARET L. WEBSTER, AGE 15 cleverly and ap(SILVER BADGE)

nificance and importance of the occasion. Our

propriately con- minds are not large enough wholly to comprehend verted the subject assigned, "A Good Reason,” such tremendously thrilling events as are happeninto an admirable forecast of the International ing every day in our lives just now; but the facts Conference at Washington. And there remain the same, and these days will be rememseveral facts of special interest connected with bered as landmarks in the history of the American this little essay. For since it was written (more Nation and of the whole world. The reason for than three months ago), the Conference itself this great conference at this time is to try and arhas passed into history. Early in February came range a way for all nations to have everlasting the news of its adjournment and President Hard- peace and prosperity, and not to participate in the ing's address of thanks and congratulation to suffering of another terrible war. the envoys who took part in it. His eloquent It was most fitting that the conference should tribute to it as "the beginning of a new and better open the day after the whole country had paid epoch in human progress” makes the earnest hope homage to an unknown soldier, who was the sole so well expressed by our Honor Member that it representative of all those men who went forth so might prove "a landmark in history” and “the willingly and made the supreme sacrifice to guard dawn of a new and better era" seem a prophetic the peace of the world, because on that day we utterance already assured of fulfilment. ST. seemed to bury the sufferings of war and looked NICHOLAS and the LEAGUE, moreover, may well forward to the following day as the dawn of a new take further pride in this fine contribution be- era in promoting peace in the world. So let us cause its young author happens to be the hope that the good reason for which this conference daughter of our distinguished Secretary of State has been called may make it a great success!

PRIZE COMPETITION No. 264

(In making awards contributors' ages are considered) PROSE. Silver Badges, Margaret E. Moss (age 12), Ohio; Esther Walcott (age 13), Massachusetts; Wilhelmina Rankin (age 13), New Jersey; Florence E. Tompkins (age 13), New Jersey. VERSE. Gold Badges, Jean Harper (age 17), New York; Katherine Foss (age 15), Massachusetts. Silver Badges, Eva Titman (age 15), New York; Molly Bevan (age 17), Canada; Eleanor F. Fisher (age 13), Pennsylvania; Frances S. Miller (age 11), Maryland. DRAWINGS. Silver Badges, Donald Dodge (age 14), Pennsylvania; Margaret Webster (age 15), New Jersey; Alice McAllister (age 15), Kentucky; Mary Billings (age 14), Massachusetts. PHOTOGRAPHS. Gold Badge, Ethel Hunter (age 14), Illinois. Silver Badges, Emily B. Learned (age 13), California; Ruth Lawrence (age 14), New York; Helen Sturm (age 15), Ohio; Florence Leighton Smith (age 13), New York; Betty Alden Brainard (age 15), New York. PUZZLE-MAKING. Gold Badge, Mayline Donnelly (age 16), Mass. Silver Badge, Carlan S. Messler (age 14), Pa. PUZZLE ANSWERS. Silver Badge, Charles Eugene Smith (age 14), Vermont.

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BY HELEN STURM, AGE 15. (SILVER BADGE)

BY FLORENCE LEIGHTON SMITH, AGE 13. (SILVER BADGE) “IN THE OPEN"

THE WINDS OF MARCH
BY MOLLY BEVAN (AGE 17)

(Silver Badge) O WINDS of March,

Heralds of coming spring! What is the wild, fierce melody

Your brazen trumpets ring?

"This talk don't go with me," said the policeman. “Why is n't he to blame?.

"Because,” answered the lady, quietly, “this is not my car.

At this reply, the policeman uttered a low exclamation and disappeared around a corner.

Down in the frozen woodlands,

The bare trees sway
And bow before you

As you tear along your way.
The merry brooklet, struggling to be free,

Is kept in bondage by your icy breath;
Your voice reëchoing in the silent hills

Rings like the call of Death.

A GOOD REASON

(A True Story)
BY MARGARET E. MOSS (AGE 12)

(Silver Badge)
It was on November 9, 1921, a day for which I
had been waiting for nearly a month, the day
when I was to receive the pin awarded by our
school for not being late or absent. It was also on

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Your reign is long and harsh,

But when you vanish with your ice and snow, Deep in the wakening valleys

Hepaticas will blow.

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O winds of March!

While on your last, free flight you 're winging,
Over the meadow, in the cherry-tree.
I hear the spring's first robin singing.

A GOOD REASON
BY FLORENCE E. TOMPKINS (AGE 13)

(Silver Badge)
It was a cold, blustery day and the wind was
blowing a gale. Before a theater, from which the
people were just coming, stood several limousines.
By one of these there stood a chauffeur, dressed in
purple livery.

Presently, a policeman came up to him and said: "See here, you just clear out. Don't you see

Te the hydrant? Have n't you any more sense than to park your old car right in front of a hydrant?”

"Yes, sir," was all the reply the policeman received.

Well then, move," he continued. "Supposin' this here theater got on fire, how do you think they 'd get any water to shoot at it? Do you hear me? Clear out!”.

“Were you addressing me, sir?” asked the chauffeur.

Addressing you?” exclaimed the policeman. “Addressing you! You just move that car or I 'll haul you down to court for violatin' the law." “But-but it-," began the chauffeur.

“ADMIRATION.” BY DONALD DODGE, AGE 14. (SILVER BADGE) "But nothing. Are you going or are n't you?asked the policeman.

this day that the whole city was aroused by the "But-,' again he began.

news that Marshal Foch was to visit our city for a “Keep still! Now come on.” And the police- few hours, on his way to Washington. Foch had man grabbed the chauffeur by the collar.

been my hero since the war, and I had always "Sir, what does this mean?” another voice in- longed to see him, but he arrived at nine o'clock. terrupted, this time a lady's. “James, what have School began at eight-thirty, and I must not be you been doing?

late the day I was to be given the pin. “Nothing, ma'am, nothing to be sure," James The day was cold and rainy, and I started to replied.

school trying not to hear the cheers that arose ""None o' this now. March!" commanded the from the station near our home where the great policeman.

man was to arrive. But hard as I tried, I could “Let go of him.” The lady was growing im- not keep away, and I found myself joining the patient.

rain-drenched crowd that lined both sides of the “Duty, lady, duty," returned the policeman. road. But in spite of the rain, men, women, and "He parked his car in front of this here hydrant." children, stood waving French and American

“James!” Then turning to look at the car be- flags to do homage to the wonderful general. fore the hydrant, she said, “But James is not to Drip-drip went the rain, and then a mighty cheer, blame for this."

and a line of soldiers paraded up the street fol

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THE WINDS OF MARCH
BY EVA TITMAN (AGE 15)

(Silver Badge)
THE Winds of March blow wild and free;
They come from over the misty sea,
And bring in a skein of tangled rain
The tomboy month to our shores again.
Their coming is heralded over the hill
By the clear trumpet-call of the gold daffodil,
And 'mong the cool mosses, the violet shy
Awakens and opens her timid blue eye.
The swirling gay breezes romp over the land
And sweep the skies clear with a freshening hand,
And scampering wildly, they toss to and fro
The last poor remains of a cold winter's snow.
And the grass appears green on the bare frozen lea,
And the brown buds unfold on each tall swaying

tree, While the brook gurgles softly as southward it

flows, And the early bird sings of things nobody knows. And the air 's just alive with the coming of spring, And the rushes by river-banks their banners fling, And the chill mist that winter has cast slowly

fades, And stars gleam like crystal in blue evening shades. Then the Winds of March blow low some night, And prepare themselves for their coming flight, And softly, as in other years They leave the world to April's tears.

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A GOOD EXCUSE

(A True Story)
BY ESTHER WALCOTT (AGE 13)

(Silver Badge) One day as a twelve-year-old boy was running through the streets of Portland, Maine, he heard a queer sound.

What was it? Some one in distress.

On running toward the spot, Henry saw a little seven-year-old boy sitting on the curbstone, crying bitterly. "Why, what is the matter, little boy?” he asked.

"I–I–I can't go home,” he answered, sobbing. “I'm lost.” “Where do you live?” “On Cedar Street," answered the weeping child.

“Cedar Street! That is a long way from here. How did you get so far? What is your name?".

"I came with the milkman and I got out of the wagon here. My name is James Stone."

“I know who you are. Your mother is a dressmaker. Oh dear! I'd take you home, but I 'll be late to school. I do want to have a perfect record this month. I'm sorry."

But at this the boy once more burst into tears. Kind-hearted Henry smiled. “Of course I 'll take you home. Don't cry."

Reaching James's home, Henry left him and ran back, not heeding the many thanks heaped on him by James and his mother. He merely called “Good-morning" and rushed away at topmost speed to the school-house.

"I 'm sorry to see you late, Henry,” said his teacher. "Have you an excuse?”

Henry explained. The teacher expressed her approval.

This is an example of Mr. Longfellow's kindheartedness even in his early boyhood.

But was it not a good excuse, and better than that, a kind deed?

A GOOD EXCUSE

BY VERNON SQUIRES (AGE 11) Tom White, of Greentown, at last decided he would go to college. “I want to get an education," he said, "and I also want to play football on some big team.” And so he went to Bradshaw College.

He got an education. But he did n't get his other wish till his senior year. True, he was on the sub-team all the other years; but in his senior year, he made the varsity.

He was right half-back when the big game with Newton University came around. It would be a very close game, as always. Tom felt nervous before the game, but as the starting-whistle blew and the Newton full-back sent the ball spinning down the field into the arms of Wood, their captain and quarter, all nervousness left him, and he started to play the game with all the force he had.

At the first of the fourth quarter the score stood 13 to 7, in favor of Newton. Tom resolved that they would at least tie the score, and so set his teeth for a touch-down.

It was last down on Newton's ten-yard line, with the ball under the Newton center. Wood signaled to Tom, “Get back to watch for a pass!" But Tom, with more foresight, saw an end run. Tearing around right end, he reached the full-back just a second after his side's right guard tackled the full, who fumbled. Tom jumped high in air and grabbed the ball, only to be in turn grabbed by a Newton man. Tom fell, but as he fell, he struggled forward and placed the ball just across the line. And as the ball sailed over the cross-bars, Tom felt that he had a good excuse for disobeying orders. But—had he?

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