CHIVALRY

BY HESTER B. CURTIS (AGE 12)

(Silver Badge)

I LOVE a knight; he loves me, too; He wins the hearts of many.

His voice is kind, his heart is true; He 's nobler far than any.

He says I am his lady fair,

He is my strength and light; He shares my every pain and careMy father is my knight!

REFLECTIONS." BY ELWOOD H. GALLIEN, AGE 17.

"MY HAPPIEST MEMORY"

BY HESTER R. HOFFMAN (AGE 16)
(Gold Badge)

HERR LUDWIG fingered caressingly the violin of his fathers with its four strings, Love, Hope, Memory, and the dark one-Hate. Then, settling the instrument comfortably under his chin, the old man bent his white head lovingly over the violin, his eyes assumed a far-off expression, and he drew the bow lightly yet lingeringly over the string Memory.

The notes, though soft, came forth clearly with unsurpassable sweetness, and, after lingering in the room, sped forth to the village street, where many stopped to listen, for they recognized the opening notes of Herr Ludwig's sweetest composition, "My Happiest Memory."

"Thou art a great musician, lad," said he, "and in addition to the prize, I give you this token of your emperor's homage to a great artist!"

The notes of the violin were jubilant, ecstatic, triumphant, depicting the state of that young heart. As the last high, sweet notes melted into silence, the listeners stole quietly away, leaving Herr Ludwig staring at a small gold medal, bearing the emperor's arms, which glistened as brightly in the twilight as that one incident shone in the old musician's memory.

The violin was a human voice telling them of a day long ago when a German lad, carrying a violin, swung joyously along a country road. The boy was on his way to a music carnival, held by the emperor, and he, the young Ludwig, intended to pit his talent against the most renowned musicians of the empire.

Soon the boy reached the hall, and the rustling of silks and satins told him that the courtiers and their ladies were arriving. The rules were read and the contest began. Ludwig was the last to play. He murmured to his violin, tightened its strings, and began.

The violin in the old musician's hands thrilled again with that melody played so long ago. It was a melody telling of love and hope, as sweet and pure as the boy's heart from which it sprang. One note, high, sweet, triumphant, ended the divine harmony. There was a silence, and then could be heard the enthusiastic applause. The emperor rose majestically.

asleep in the basket. myself that day. "kitten fool."

MY HAPPIEST MEMORY (As told by a kitten)

BY BETTY HUMPHREYS (AGE 11) (Gold Badge)

LITTLE kitten,
This was written
For you to obey :
Stay at home
Until you 've grown,

That's a kitten's way.
If you don't obey this rule,
You will be a kitten fool.

THAT was the rule my mother taught me. I had always obeyed it, until one day I could n't bear the poky old basket any longer. My mother had gone to catch mice in the cellar, so it was a good chance to jump out and explore the house, which I did.

I stole some fish, broke a vase full of flowers, almost caught the canary (I scared him, anyhow), and had a fine time. Then I came back and pretended to be Mother never knew how I enjoyed My happiest memory was being a

MY HAPPIEST MEMORY

BY IMOGEN CAMPBELL NOYES (AGE 10)

SIX summers ago, our family ate their meals on the porch all the season. A chipping sparrow was attracted by the crumbs on the floor, and finally became tame enough to eat at the table with us. Every time we put the bread on the table, "Velvet," as we called her, because she had a little brown spot on her head, was always ready to be the first one at the table.

Once Velvet burned her toes in Papa's coffee, trying to get a drink of it. Sometimes we heard a flutter, and Velvet would light on our heads. I remember once that I had some bread crumbs in my hand, and went to look for Velvet to feed her. She came at once, and brought one of her baby birds, and he perched on my foot. Velvet flew to my hand, and got some crumbs to feed the baby bird, and while she was getting the crumbs, she let me stroke her feathers. She came to us two summers, and her visits were my happiest memories.

Came a prince from o'er the mountains, Won her heart, and asked her hand; And, one merry, sunny May-day,

They were wedded. All the land Rang with mirth; glad merrymakers Thronged to pay their homage due.Princess, thou hast won a king's heart! Still one heavy heart beats true.

"REFLECTIONS." BY DICKSON GREEN, AGE 15. (GOLD BADGE.)

THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY

BY WINIFRED SACKVILLE STONER, JR. (AGE 9)
(Honor Member)

IN days of chivalry, so I 've been told,
All knights were gallant, kind, and bold;
But ladies, though ever so modest and sweet,
Made the bold knights kneel down at their feet.

mass of silken cushions, had given me a little woolly dog to play with, and had told me to sit very, very still. Then she went off into another corner of the vast lighted room, and stood talking to the master, who began slapping at a large piece of canvas with long brushes such as I sometimes used to paint with in my picture books.

I began to inspect the wonderful vastness around me. Everywhere were great heaps of painted canvas and odd golden frames; on the walls hung tempting-looking pictures, tempting because children smiled out of them, smiled at me, and called me to them. They were all pretty children, little boys in rollicking sailor-suits, and little girls in bright-colored dresses; a few wore silks and satins, which I was sure must have been very uncomfortable when they wanted to play hide-and-seek. One of my pillows fell down; the master picked it up, and told me that I had been a very good little girl, that

ST. NICHOLAS LEACHER

And every day after that, Mother would take me to the "wonderful place"-I still call it that-and set me high up among the cushions, high up in the sunlight, with my woolly dog. And then, one day, I did not go back any more, and a new little girl, sitting on a pile of cushions, clasping a little woolly dog, and smiling out of her golden frame, came to live in our parlor.

DAYS OF CHIVALRY

BY MARTHA MEANS (AGE 15)
(Silver Badge)

DREAMING, I watched the fire,
'T was red and yellow and blue;
I saw a black knight riding by,
'T was Richard-that I knew.

Then a lady in fine array,

With servants three she came; Now a knight, with armor white, To try with Richard for fame.

They came together with might, 'T was quite a serious bout; Down went the knight in white, But, alas, the fire went out!

MY HAPPIEST MEMORY
BY HARRIET HENRY (AGE 14)
(Silver Badge)

"Hi there! Git up!!" I start forward clumsily under the pain of the stinging lash, and the stupid driver jerks me back with brutal force. Oh, my heart is

"A HEADING FOR JULY." BY SCHOFIELD HANDFORTH, AGE 14.

he had never known any one to sit quite so still before; then he went back to his strange occupation of painting in a very much glorified picture book. I wondered afterward why I had not told him about the children. Was I afraid of him? I never quite knew; the master was always a sort of strange and mystic being to me.

"REFLECTIONS." BY WILLIAM L. CHAPMAN, AGE 13.

heavy these days. What with the cruelty of my master and the hard, hard work, my life is one weary round of misery. I think I would die if it were not for the pleasant memories of better days, which I so love to recall, and which blot out the dull agony of the present. I like to dwell upon one May afternoon, ten years ago. I sped along a smooth, broad race-track while crowds on either side yelled loudly. A dapple filly was abreast of me and a big roan in front, while far behind, there straggled a half-dozen horses who were almost spent. I remember as if it were yesterday, Miss Constance leaning well over the rail with her head tilted