P. S. May sends six cents for the organ, earned by washing and wiping dishes.
Dear Pansy:
This is one of my compositions:
A PAPER OF NEEDLES.
First, a coil of steel wire, twenty-four inches long. This cut through the middle by scissors into little curved bundles, long enough for two needles. Straighten and point them—on a grindstone. They are pointed at both ends. They must now have their eyes opened. Needles, like puppies and kittens, are born blind. They are stamped with a heavy die that leaves the print of two needles’ heads and eyes at the center of the wire. Then the eyes are opened with a double punch.
Harry B. Hayes.
Dear Pansy:
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.