EXTRACTS FROM PANSY LETTERS.
Dear Pansy:
I would like to become a member of the P. S. I am a little girl seven years old. My mamma is an invalid and I am hands and feet for her as she sits in her invalid chair. I have a brother and sister in Heaven.
My little sister Nellie was four years and a half old when she died. She would have made a good member of the P. S., for mamma says she took for her motto in everything, “For Jesus’ sake.” One day, before she was sick, she said to mamma, “Me do love Jesus so much, mamma, me want to go see Him, and sing praise to Him.” Then she would hold out her little arms, as though she was reaching up to some one, and ask mamma when she thought God would send for her. One morning after looking at a sunrise, she said, “Mamma, it looks like the golden streets of Heaven.” I wanted to write to you about this little sister, for I thought she would have made such a dear little Pansy. Now she is a Blossom in God’s garden.
I live on a farm, but it is right by a little village. I play with lambs, and ducks, and calves. My chickens follow me around and get under my feet sometimes, so I can scarcely walk. I can pick them up and pat them, any time. I wish to overcome two bad habits: selfishness and whining. I had a gold ring to help me keep from whining; I had it last fall, and it cured me until this spring; then the habit come back so bad I had to give mamma the ring. Now I am going to try what the badge and motto will do. I’ve tried the motto before, and it always helped. But someway, dear Pansy, I do not always keep hold of the Help. Mamma says she thinks it might do grown people good to belong to a Pansy Society. We have a great many of your books in our home. Mamma gets a new one every year; we lend them to people to read. I hope I have not tired you with my letter.
Yours, truly and lovingly,
Blanche Perkins.
Dear Pansy:
We are two little brothers away down in Va. We have taken The Pansy for four years. We like it more and more, and we love you very much. We have two bad habits. We don’t keep things in place and we dispute with each other. We found a bumblebee’s house in a part of an old barn. It had fifteen apartments and two ways of entering them. The doors were little round caps which looked something like stiff, dark brown paper. Our love for you and all the Blossoms.
Your little Pansies,
Davis Wilson.
R. P. Wilson.