The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 15 April 1915, Page 61

The Family Circle

SMILE ALWAYS. Start the day with smiling, and it will not seem so long Start the day with music, and the heart will join tue song. Start the day with sunshine, and the clouds will soon depart * There are no clouds or shadows where there’s singing in the heart. Start the day with kindness, and the toil will not be great; Start the day with blossoms, and the rose will deck your gate. THE PREFECT WHO UNDERSTOOD. Father Aloysius gazed sadly at the stubborn little figure before him. Defiance was stamped on every feature of the round, boyish face. The blue eyes were half closed, and the lips tightly compressed as the culprit stood sullenly facing the window. Father Aloysius sighed. ‘Arnold, if you would only go and apologise to Father Ignatius he would understand—go and tell him you are sorry.’ ‘l’m not sorry, Father; I can’t say so unless I am, can I?’ the boy asked, never shifting his gaze from the window. ‘But why aren’t you sorry, Arnold? Father Ignatius ’ ‘ He’s a German, and he don’t understand Irish boys,’ the lad burst forth hotly. ‘ He's no kind of a prefect—he isn’t fair—and he don’t care a thing about any but the German fellows.’ If Joe Miller or Hans Ahrens did what I did this morning he’d ’ave never said a word. Pie ain’t fairthat’s why I’m not sorry, I’m glad.’ ‘ If that is the way you feel,’ said the priest slowly, ‘ I think I will have you repeat what you have just said to the rector. He will not be in his office for a. half-hour yet. Sit over there by the window for the present. I am sure he will be glad to know your opinion of the system of discipline in the junior department,’ he added as he turned back to his desk and drew his cassock over his knees. Arnold kept his outward show of indifference, but he was inwardly agitated. Tell the rector that he did not approve of Father Ignatius’ system of discipline Tell the rector ho was not fair? Never! lie would be sent home, no doubt, for the rector would be angry. Desperately he clinched' his hands on the low window seat as shouts rose to him from the playground below. They were cheering Joe Miller he must have made a home run, from the sounds. Below, all the juniors were playing on the campus, all but himself— and he in disgrace and yet to face the rector. It was all wrong. Father Aloysius continued opening the pile of mail that lay on his desk. After covertly watching Arnold for half an hour,, he sighed again. His offence was serious. He had broken one of the rules early in the day, and had been reproved by Father « Ignatius, prefect of the junior department. Arnold had so far forgotten himself as to answer the priest boldly and disrespectfully. Father Ignatius, surprised and' pained, perceiving that he was making no headway, sent him to Father Aloysius, prefect of the seniors. Arnold had a deep respect and much admiration for Father Aloysius. He had often envied the seniors their possession of him and felt that he was indeed a Spriest who would ‘understand a fellow,’ German or Irish. Previously he had admired him from afar; now actual contact revealed a firmer nature than that of Father Ignatius — a man who did not hesitate to send on© to the rector! It was hard to believe. Father Aloysius turned to the lad suddenly and held out a letter.

/ . •' ■ ■ ' : - ••- ' ■ ■ ‘ Your mail,’ he said. V‘ Father Ignatius sent it over.’ : : y ~*. ■ - -;,y A ,AptAvgtAA w -y Arnold - took it with fast-beating heart. That was good of his prefect .anyway—-he might have kept it. the boy’s heart sank when he read the familiar writing. A letter very similar to it in contents was lying on Father Aloysius’ desk. It was signed by Mrs. Mitchell, and stated that the lady was coming to St. Martin’s College on Thursday afternoon and hoped to hear a favorable report of her son. 1 Why, this was Thursday, and it was nearly four o’clock. ' She must be here even now. Perhaps they would not let him see her. Perhaps they might send him home with her. Suddenly it flashed over him—■ all that it would mean to leave St. Martin’s. How grieved his dear mother would be— his hearty, kindly father. He turned a shade whiter and dropped a few hot tears on the letter, but he did not look toward the desk. • . After a, few moments had passed a knock was heard at the study door and old Brother John announced that Mrs. Mitchell was in the parlor and wished to see her son. Arnold waited breathless. Father Aloysius would go down first and tell her. ‘ Arnold,’ said the priest, swinging around in his chair, ‘ you ' may go down and you may go with your mother to the guests’ dining-room for some tea.’ The boy sprang up with a choked ‘ Thank you, Father,’ and tore like a young cyclone out of the room and down the stairway. When he reached the parlor he hesitated. He would have to tell her, but perhaps it wouldn’t sound so bad if he told it first. She would hear it anyway, so better from him from the first. As he stopped outside the door he heard voices—his mother’s and Father Ignatius’. It was all up —he would surely tell. Unconsciously he listened ; . ‘Yes, he is a good lad, very good and pious; he will make a fine man.’ ‘ But, Father, he isn’t always good, I know.’ ‘ Oh, boys will do things—yes— but not bad things. Youth and mischief, you know; but he has a temper I am praying lie will learn to controland he tries very hard.’ Now it was coming sure. ‘ lie has one very good quality: he is quick to say “I’m sorry.’’ When a boy will do that, Mrs. Mitchell, he is pretty safe.’ And this from the man who couldn’t understand. Arnold did not wait for his mother’s answer. He wanted to see her and, most of all, he wanted to see his prefect. lie knocked softly and entered. He embraced his mother warmly, and during the greeting the young priest slipped away. After they had talked a long time Mrs. Mitchell said ; Well, son, how’s the temper?’ ‘ Oh, it’s bad, mother, lots of times and it gets harder and harder to say “I’m sorry,” but I do, though. I had an awful time to-day .’ And then he told her. ‘ I’ll go to him right after studies to-night,’ he promised when his mother kissed him good-bye. : ( It wanted eight minutes to supper time when her carriage had rolled away down the broad road. Arnold thought he would run and take a look at Brother Peter’s rabbits to try and forget how he missed his mother. Somehow that lump in his throat would com© whenever they parted. All the other fellows were ,in the study hall, but he had been excused for the whole hour ; so to the rabbit hutches he went. In the garden walk he came face to face with his prefect walking with Father Aloysius. It was now or never. ‘Father,’ he said bravely to the young priest, ‘I am sorry I lost ray temper this morning and said those things. I didn’t mean to ’ • . Father Ignatius’ arm was around the lad’s shoulder. ‘ That’s all right, my boy. I made a mistake, too. Why didn’t you tell me it was Hans Ahrens that was talking in ranks instead of yourself V

I thought you didn’t like me because I’m Irish,’ said Arnold, shamefacedly; ‘ then I got mad - and said things. Father.’ . I don t know what they were just now,’ said the prefect, smiling. •‘ I knew you were just “mad,” as you say, but what put : that in your head about not liking you because you are Irish?’ ‘ Just meanness, I guess. Father.' It was an unexpected answer, and the priests exchanged looks. * Well, don’t think it again. Now we are square. I’m afraid, though, I’ll have to send you to Father Aloysius for a penance,’ he added with twinkling eyes. ‘Oh, yes, Father, I’ll do anything. Shall I come up to your room after supper?’ The supper bell rang just then and he scampered off—but came back for a moment to say shyly : * Thank you both fox* not telling my mother first.’ He ran off to join his companions, carrying in his heart the kind fatherly smile of both priests, as warm as the glow of the sunset behind them. —Messenger of the Sacred Heart. KEEPING AT IT. There is a very old but very good story about a boy who was engaged one winter day in putting a ton of coal into a cellar. His only implement was a small fire shovel. Noticing this, a benevolent old gentleman expressed his surprise and commiseration. ‘My son,’ said the old gentleman, ‘ you surely do not expect to put in all that coal with that little shovel ?’ ‘Oh, yes, I do,’ replied the boy cheerfully; ‘all I have to do is to keep at it.’ There is a lesson in this story for young and old, and it is exemplified in the lives of the great men of the world. It is a mistake to suppose that the best work of all the world is done by people of great strength and many opportunities. Keeping at it’ is the secret of success. Never be in too great haste. Too many boys spoil a life-time by not having patience. They work at a trade until they see about one-half of its mysteries, then strike for higher wages. Such men are botches and slouches. When learning a trade, my boy, don’t move like a rusty watch. Act as if your interest and the interest of your employer were the same. Employers will not willingly lose good employees. Be honest and faithful. There is the secret of success, my boy, and that is the thing lacking with too many. WHAT JIMMY HEARD. ‘ Queen Mary,’ said the teacher to the class in history lesson, ‘ loved France so much that she declared the word Calais would be found written on her heart after she was dead.’ Pausing a moment, the teacher looked at a boy steadily. ‘Jimmy Smith,’ she said, ‘you were not listening.’ ‘ Oh, yes, I was,’ Jimmy replied. ‘ Well, what did Queen Mary say would be written across her heart?’ ‘ Kelly,’ was Jimmy’s triumphant reply. NOT HIS OWN. It was a very fashionable concert, and the artists very well known ones, but the two young things were too busy with picking out their peculiarities to hear the music. In the midst of a beautiful selection the pianist suddenly lifted his hands from the keys, and one of the young things was heard to say clearly : ‘I wonder if that hair is his own?’ The old man who sat beside her was slightly deaf, but he, turned with a benevolent smile. ‘ No, miss,’ he imparted pleasantly, ‘ that is Schubert’s.’

: FISH AS A BRAIN FOOD. : '.r '• , ■ ~ ; •*. \ A young woman from the west was making a visit to an old'seaport town. One morning while walking with her host she • said: -..A I ' ■- What is the diet of all these- people ? * ‘ Fish, mostly,’ responded the man. ‘ Why,’ spoke the westerner, ‘I thought fish was a brain food. These are really the most unintelligentlooking people I ever saw. A- ‘ Well,’ replied the host, ‘ just think what they would look like if they hadn’t eat fish.' A PROBLEM. , When Grover Cleveland’s little girl was quite young her father once telephoned to the White House" from Chicago and asked Mrs. Cleveland to bring the child to the phone. Lifting the little one up to the instrument, Mrs. Cleveland watched her expression change from bewilderment to wonder, then to fear. It was surely her father’s —yet she looked at the telephone incredulously. After exarning the tiny opening in the receiver the little girl burst into tears. ‘ O mamma!’ she sobbed, ‘how can we ever get papa out of that little hole THE DIFFERENCE. A house-hunter, who had just got off the train, stepped up to a boy hanging around the station, with this salutation : My lad, I am looking for Mr. Smithson’s new block of semi-detached houses. How far are they from here? ‘ About twenty minutes’ walk,’ replied the boy. ‘ Twenty minutes !’ exclaimed the house-hunter, ‘ Nonsense ! the advertisement says five.’ ‘ Well,’ said the boy, ‘ you can believe me or you can believe the advertisement, only I ain’t tryin’ to make a sale.’ COULDN’T REMEMBER IT ALL. Little Robert, says an exchange, rushed into the kitchen one day and asked bis mother what kind of pi© she was making. ‘ Lemon meringue pie,’ she answered. The little fellow disappeared, but presently returned. ‘ Mamma,’ he asked, 1 what did you say is the pie’s middle name?’ THEORY AND PRACTICE. The pupils were being examined on the subject of personal hygiene. A. boy was asked, ‘ What have you to do in order to keep your teeth sound and white?’ ‘ Clean them,’ was the prompt reply. ‘ When ought you to clean them?’ ‘ Morning, noon, and night.’ ‘What are they to be cleaned with?’ ‘ With a toothbrush.’ ‘Very good; have you a toothbrush?’ ‘No, sir.’ ‘ Has your father a toothbrush?’ ‘ No, sir.’ ‘Has your mother a toothbrush?’ ‘ No, sir.’ ‘ But how do you know about the use of toothbrushes ?’ ‘ We sell them, sir.’