From a tiny child, May, if told to do anything, would do it just a little differently. If told to put a thing on the table, she would say, “I dess will put it on lounge,” and when I answered, “No; on the table,” she would skip along, laughing, “I dess will put it on chair.” But doing a little differently from mamma’s way and God’s way will end in many a heartache Pray that mother and child may yield impliably to the dear Father’s will.

P. S. May sends six cents for the organ, earned by washing and wiping dishes.

This is one of my compositions:

My fault is that I am ready to give, but not to take advice. I am president of a society. One member chooses another to write about; others read or recite selections. I attend Shurtleff Grammar School.

When I read answers to letters, it seems to hit me. I will try to be more patient with brother and sister. I am a church member, and I very much wish my cousin were. It is hard sometimes to talk about Christ. I talk about other things readily. Why?

As to how we spend our evenings: we play games and speak pieces, and we have lots of books and papers. We like The Pansy. Papa got The Pansy for us and we did not know it till we got the mail. Mamma gave us “Young People at Home,” which you wrote, and which we like much. Maud and Mabel Davis, my sisters, are writing; so I thought I would. Mamma does not like to have me tease my little brother Romie. I will try not to do so.

Badges received in time to organize. They are lovely. They will help us to remember our faults. We meet at each other’s homes weekly and read, sew, sing, pray, and play The Pansy games. “Monteagle” is splendid. Hope the trip will help Dilly get well, and she will help naughty Hart get better. What a good woman Mrs. Hammond is to have such a bad boy. I guess he’ll come out right.

I send a small sum for the organ. I sent sixty cents to D. Lothrop Company, and received “A Girl’s Room.” I would not part with it for twice that. Every girl should have it. The book gives me an idea what to do with things. I am much interested in “Around the Family Lamp.”

Our mission band is “The Cheerful Givers.” Mrs. Prof. Jewett is the teacher. She is nice. We like her—at least I do, and we all think the others ought to. We have mite boxes to put our pennies into, to buy maps of the world. I am not failing to mind my badge.

I am eight and cannot write well. I tried last week. The words were hard to spell. I got tired. Tears came, so did mamma, and said, “Wait, I will help you.” I have taken your paper since I was a bit of a girl, and love it, and can hardly wait till it comes.

I have many, many, many naughty traits. Send me a badge. It may help me. Mamma and my good auntie read The Pansy to me, and they enjoy it as much as I. Papa died before I was three years old. I want to be good “For Jesus’ sake.”

Your answer to my last did me a world of good. I have it in my album, as one of my most precious treasures. I’m determined to grow up a useful Christian woman—thanks to the “Whisper Motto” and the influence of Pansy and my mother. Mamma has no ambition for her children but that they become genuinely good. When we are determined to be so, she wishes us to join some church. There are six, and as merry and happy as the “Little Peppers” of whom dear Margaret Sidney wrote so sweetly.

I enclose five cents. I earned it for the organ fund by learning the multiplication table.

We have almost finished a bed-quilt and are making holders to sell; in that way to raise money to buy cotton and lining. Every week a word is given out. We learn a Bible verse with that word, to repeat at the next meeting.

Please print my letter, as it is the first I have written to any paper. I got a good many Christmas gifts, among them a canary. I named her Soldie. I want to join the P. S. My fault is getting angry. I mean to try real hard and break that horrid fault. I would like a badge. I think you are real lovely. I would like to see you. I am your constant reader and loving little friend. No one helped me about my story.

I am trying to overcome my fault, which is putting off, and not starting the moment I am spoken to. I like the whisper motto. I have your picture and think very much of it. I have a pansy bed, and when I look at it, it makes me think of the Pansy Society.

I think the games published in The Pansy are lovely. We children, this spring, in our yard, planted some seeds, and in three days they began to show themselves. We planted the seeds in June and now they have buds on them.

I have five dolls, Mabel, Phoebe, Sallie, Mollie, and Nannie. I love Phoebe the best. I have had her almost two years. I have two cats, Mrs. Kitty Clyde and her son Tom. We have a dog, too. His name is Nero.

Perhaps some of the Pansies would like to hear of my two little horned toads, about an inch and one half long. I have them in a wire-screen cage. I have a big black beetle in the cage with them, and they don’t seem to like him very well. I feed them with cornmeal and flies.

Thank you ever so much for the badge. I think it has helped me some, but I left it in Denver when I came to Leadville to spend the summer.

I lend my Pansies to my friends to read. I found ninety-eight mistakes in the Queer Story of August Pansy.

Willie Hicks, a dear little fellow in Africa, six months only, has gone to his heavenly home. Each Angola station has its representative in Heaven; but with Melville Cox, we say, “Though a thousand fall, let Africa be redeemed.” My bed is a bamboo frame, a canvas cot laced to it, set on low horses. I am learning how to use tools. I want to make a desk and case for my little library. I have no Pansy books. If I had money they would be here soon.

I am so ashamed of myself I don’t like to write to you. I beg your pardon. I have not worn my badge much, and I have not written to you. It is all because I am so neglectful. I will try to wear my badge more.

We have a beautiful location. Looking south, we see the little valley with Keiser Creek, like a thread, bright and clear; on either side, the rocky hills, with pines, separated by deep ravines. Away beyond the foot hills, overtopping all, is the Yellowstone or Snowy Range, lifting up their white tops on the hottest days, as if in derision. Rocks are everywhere. “The Rockies” are rightly named. Several miles down the river is “Pompey’s Pillar,” on the rocky face of which is carved the name of Wm. Clark, 1806, the explorer. Not far is the battle-ground, on which the gallant Custer and his men lost their lives by the Indians.

The Carmans gave us a concert. The church was full. Every one was delighted. They stayed all night at our house and sang. So we had a free concert. It makes me think of an angel to look at Miss Nellie while she sings. Davie is such a sweet, manly boy. I wish there were more such boys. I don’t know of any. I like Mr. and Mrs. Carman, too. They are all beautiful singers. Davie is fourteen, and superintends a mission Sabbath-school. While reading Docia’s Journal, I decided for Christ.

When your kind letter came, Auntie Alice Ferree was here from Kansas City. She used to live in Greensburg, Ind., and knew you, and wishes to be remembered. I showed my badge to Gov. St. John. He sends kindest regards.

I counted one hundred and sixty-six mistakes in the Queer Story. I have written to ask you to write a letter and put it in The Pansy. I could not find A Sevenfold Trouble, in one of the Pansies. Call me Aurelia from Mass. There are so many Lizzies.

I found one hundred and fifty-seven mistakes in the Queer Story. [Send a copy corrected.—Ed.] I have two pets, a bird and a kitten. The kitten is black, yellow, and white. Her name is Pansy. My bird is cardinal; his name, Mac. Good-by!

E. Smith’s letter, with badge, sent to Roberts, Ill., has returned.

A letter signed Jonnae J., 2617, Park Ave., St. Louis, Mo., received.

Henry P. Austin’s letter, sent to South Paris, Me., with badge, comes back.

S. H. Sterling writes from Philadelphia, Pa., without street and number.

The above persons should immediately write, giving full name, street, and number, and write very plainly.