18 THE ACORN. If some of the girls should have the lock jaw so they could not persist in talking- in the Study hall? If the girls should lose the safety clasps that hold on the rats and the big" bows of brig-ht colored ribbons? Answer. The boys might go about singing-, "It don't seem like the same old girl." Girls apply it. THE CHRISTMAS JEWEL Philip Cole lived in the little village of Charleston. Its inhabitants were not a wealth-seeking people but lived for the common good of others, all partaking of each other's hospitality. Especially was this true of Mr. Cole, His outward appearance did not show the true man he was. In other words, his good deeds and actions had to be found out through other sources, as he himself, did not approve of self praise. He had a large fortune but never counted this as a part that would tend to make his happiness. Whenever anybody asked about his wealth he would say, "What do I care about spending my money on luxuries when I can assist others with it?" I have a little home and plenty to eat and wear and what more needs a man in my condition?" He was truly a generous, kind-hearted man. He loved to be among those who had a good word for everyone and were themselves always looking on the bright side of life. The boys of the village knew of Cole's hospitality and when their evenings were not occupied, they would gather around his fire place and listen to his ever-ready tales. They, too, would join in the merry making; some would relate stories; others tell of their adventures; and those who were not gifted in these lines would sing songs to contribute to the evening's enjoyment. So it happened that on Christmas Eve., they were all gathered, as usual, about the fire place. Harry Bain, THE ACORN. 19 one of the boys, had just thrown a large cedar into the fire and its light threw brilliant rays around the room. Tonight the boys' faces were exceedingly cheerful and the light of the fire seemed to add more brightness to their countenances. "Well, Uncle Philip," said one of the boys, "start the tales agoing." "Well," said Uncle, "I don't just feel like telling stories tonight, suppose you boys commence the fun and mebby I kin think of one a little later on. I fear my mood tonight isn't as cheerful as it might be, and for that reason I insist on having my tale last." "No," said the boys, "We'll listen; we'll have yours first; come Uncle Philip, please. We don't care what your subject is." "Well," said Mr. Cole, "I won't call it a story, merely the wandering of my mind. For some reason," he continued, "my thoughts tonight are turned back to when I was a boy like you. I was then happy." "Happy," said the boys, all at the same time, for it seemed a contradiction to what they knew. "Yes," continuod he, "I am now happy, but not in the truest sense." "Why," echoed the boys, "what has changed your life since we last saw you?" "Nothing. I have always been just as you see me now, only, perhaps, in a brighter mood. But, never mind, I'll feel somewhat better when you have talked to me awhile." "No insisted the boys," we want to know just exactly what troubles you." "It's rather personal," said Mr. Cole, "but, but, then I don't mind now that I am older, and probably you may profit by it. I once loved a girl," continued he. "Her name was we called her June for short. June