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Index to Submitters of The Cozy Corner Letters
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November 15, 1896

TO CORRESPONDENTS -- When writing a letter to this department, first give your full name, postoffice and state. Use pen and ink, on smooth paper, not larger than note size. Write only on one side of the paper and do now sew, paste or pin the sheets together. These rules must be observed to insure publication.

PERRY NEWMAN, Floresville, Wilson Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Here comes another Texas girl to join your happy band. Miss Big Bonnet, your letter was so nice. I want you to write again. I will vote for the white rose. It is my favorite. School will commence next Monday. Cousins, do any of you like to read novels? I do.

ANNIE LOUISE DAVID, Wolfe City, Hunt Co., Tex. -- Miss Big Bonnet, Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Here I come to join your happy band. I am a little girl 8 years old. I go to school, and I am in the third reader. I have a kind teacher, and I love her dearly. I have three little sisters and one big brother, and a lot of playmates. I live near the Gulf, Colorado and Santa Fe railroad and take pleasure in watching the trains go by. The schoolhouse is also close to the railroad. I went to the woods the other day with some little playmates, and had a nice time hunting persimmons. I will cast my vote for the white rose, as it is my favorite flower.

A. T. BLANKENSHIP, San Diego, Duval Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: As there is no one writing from here, I will try to describe this county. Duval county contains only three towns besides San Diego. The latter is the county seat. It is situated in the western part of the county, on the Mexican National railroad. It is a very small place, consisting only of about 2300 inhabitants, mostly Mexican. San Diego has two gins and one mill, two schoolhouses, one for the girls, and one for the boys. There are twenty schools in this county, and they are all crowded with pupils. Oh, Mr. Big Hat, please give Peggy a quart of oats just before you open this letter.

BESSIE PEARL KING, Alvarado, Johnson Co., Tex. -- Dear Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Here comes another little girl knocking at the door for admittance. Will you let me in? I can hear the big girls saying, "I wish the little girls would not take up so much of our space." I will be 11 years old the 13th day of October. I have three sisters and one brother, all younger than myself. Our school will begin soon. I will be so glad, for I like to go. My uncle takes The News, and I like to read the cousins' letters. I would like to see Herbert Taylor out buzzard-riding very much. Come again, Herbert. The modest little violet is my favorite flower. It is the prettiest of all, I think. I will ask a riddle: What is it that has a mother, but no father, daughters, but no sons, but thousands of grandsons. It is not blind, but never saw any of its children.

CLYDE KENNON, Pottsboro, Grayson Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Will you let a very little boy have a little place in the Cozy Corner? My papa says I am a smart little boy, but I want Mr. Big Hat to say if I am smart, or not. I am 8 years old. I started to school the 14th of September, and picked 1074 pounds of cotton before I started. I did three days good picking on the 8th, 9th and 10th of September. I picked 144, 155 and 168 pounds. Are there any of the cousins that can do that well? I have a few pets -- a pair of white doves, a shepherd dog, and a little calf, and one that not many have -- a little sister that only has a birthday every four years. Well, cousin Jacob, I went horseback riding once, but it wasn't on a horse, it was on a mule, an old gray mule. We went to water, and she took a notion she'd beat me to the barn, and she did, too. I fell off and got up before papa could get to me, but I didn't know if I was hurt or not, until he said I wasn't hurt.

IMOGENE MILLER, Blooming Grove, Navarro Co., Tex. -- Little Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Will you kindly permit a little 10-year-old stranger to enter for a moment, and also contribute her mite to the memorial stone fund? The latter idea, I very much like, although, not a native of Texas. I have been here nearly four years. I have never gone to school, but four months, but mamma has taught me at home, ever since I can remember. Flowers and birds are my pets, and if not too late in casting my vote, I shall be for the beautiful magnolia. I am mamma's little woman, and her baby, also, so I have nothing to employ me but my books and helping mamma. Sometimes, I get lonely and wish for a brother or a sister to play with, but mamma says I can find enough beautiful things in nature to interest me and keep me from being lonely. Mr. Big Hat, enclosed find 10 cents in stamps for the stone fund.

ETHEL ROSE, Jefferson, Marion Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: I have just returned from Sunday school, and as I can't go to church, I will talk to you all awhile, if you will listen. I have had such a nice visit lately with a dear friend. Our public school has begun, and I could scarcely keep from crying when I heard the long silent bell. About forty scholars go by our door. Then, I had to cry, to think I couldn't go at all. I study some at home. I try to keep up with my class. Have never been behind yet, as much time as I have lost. There are nearly 250 scholars. It seems that everybody is going, except me, and I pray that it may be God's will that my time is coming, yet. Cousins Bertha and Frankie, I thank you for your praise and sympathy. As I can't go to school, I pass the time at work. I piece quilts and crochet. I have two quilts quilted that I started when I was 6 years old. Mamma quilted them for me. I quilted a few lines and mamma said I did very well. I have three more nearly ready to quilt. I have crocheted some trimming for myself of rick-rack braid, and some for mamma, and now, I am making some for my little friend that I visited. It is very pretty. I work at it awhile, and then at my quilt awhile. I scarcely ever play. I haven't much love for play. Of the few pleasures that I have, reading is one. I dearly love to read, and I am so glad and thankful that I have learned that much. I have one little sister that soon will be 7 years old. She just started to school, and I hope she may get a good education. She has good health. I also have a little baby sister, 16 months old. I have two grown brothers. My favorite flower is the cape jessamine.

EZRA REEDER, New Boston, Bowie Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: I like your letters very much. It rained and kept me from church to-day, so, I will write a few lines. I live in the backwoods and have had to work in the field most of the time for the past two years, but I am not going to let the buzzard rider and skinflint discourage me with their big flourishing letters. I just think they are fresh from college, and I aim to come out of the kinks some day myself, if the wild geese don't get me. I hello, "Hurrah for education," if I haven't got much myself. I have been taught to help up and never push down. While at school this summer, I saw a family, seven in number, pass the schoolhouse on foot. They had walked all the way from east Tennessee, 700 miles. Cousins, you know how most school children are always ready to taunt any one that passes by, if they don't look exactly right, and you may know they looked a little odd. Some carried cook vessels, some bedding, but the saddest sight that touched my appetite, was a little boy about my size, with a baby on his back. That reminded me of my little twin sisters at home, and I wondered if he loved it as well as I do them. Well, cousins, I have no pets, but brother John. He is 13, and I am 15. I guess you all know how boys of that age pet each other.

JOE FARMER, Rutherford, Gibson Co., Tenn. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: You may think that I come too often of late, and indeed, I must acknowledge myself that my calls are not entirely like angel visits -- "few and far between." But then, who, with my "rare talents and genial nature" (?) could withhold himself from such jovial companionship as one finds in the Corner? Oh, my! Isn't the Cozy Corner getting to be a power in this old gray world! Why, yes, "Jocko," just take your hands out of your pantaloon pockets and have a seat here by me, if you like. I haven't any objections whatever -- that is, if you will promise not to make me blush and turn pale behind the ears, any more, by telling me what "Irene thinks of you," and, too, I would like to ask you kindly to please refrain from using such a word on me as "splendiferous" when I have given you no provocation. Yes, Miss Genevieve, I find there is a great deal of solid happiness and contentment in a quiet agricultural life, and if I were your advisor, I certainly would suggest, that if you love a live of ease, happiness and contentment, you should, by all means, become a farmer. I am pleased to notice that we have among our members, some lady teachers. Misses Winnie and Etta, and other. I, for one, give you a most hearty welcome, for if there is any class of persons I admire and almost revere, it is our dear little lady school teachers. There is a charm about them that my gross nature can hardly comprehend. I always imagined I would like to be a teacher if I had sense enough, and especially, if I could be a lady teacher and have a cute little call-bell and could stick long lead pencils about in my hair, and say the very kindest things to naughty little, dirty-faced boys, and do the hundred other impossibilities which they perform naturally and smilingly. This leads me to speak of a teachers' meeting I lately attended, and in which I availed myself of a grand opportunity of observing the general sweetness, the ten thousand little virtues and attributes of goodness, delicacy and elegance that perpetually emanate from the very heart and purity of a dainty little school marm. Begging the pardon of our fair members of that worthy profession for my seeming sacrilege, I will endeavor, if you will bear with me, to try in my poor, blundering way, to give you some little account of that meeting. At Laneview academy, about twelve miles distant from my humble domicile, was held what I shall call a teachers' institute and fried chicken carnival. Early on that momentous day, vast aggregations of dark, heavy clouds of the nimbus cumulus and mongrel variety, were seen hovering like a pall over this sinful world of ours, or monkeying about demurely athwart the great blue-vaulted heavens, threatening either rain or sunshine -- I'm not certain which. And, indeed, such menacing meteorological demonstrations are of small consequence to the great pedagogical magnates of Gibson county, when an institute is on hand. At an early hour, your humble servant had, as it were, the ideal old Gunpowder of colonial fame "hooked up" to an old shack of a buggy, and was soon seated by the side of one of our city school teachers, a sweet little pedogogess, with a dark veil and a tall, thin nose, that would have made a dandy little can opener for the grocery trade. We smiled and blinked and jogged merrily on toward Laneview, ever and anon giving old Gunpowder a rousing cut on the blind side to refresh his mind and stimulate his failing energies. To the best of my recollection, we did not, as one might suppose, converse entirely upon subjects of pedagogy, calculus, cones, prisms, quadrilaterals, polygons, dihedral angles and the like, although, I believe we could have successfully talked upon such learned themes, and I even have a misgiving that I could, in my poor way, have made a vivid and personal demonstration to her as we sat there, side by side, of how a circle might be circumscribed about a symmetrical "figure," intersected by a (spinal) chord -- but didn't, as I am no enthusiastic geometrician. At length, we arrived at our destination and found the Laneview campus covered with vehicles, horses and mules, till a hitching place could hardly be found free from base associates, unbefitting the high standing of old Gunpowder and his idea of the honor due his integrity and proud lineage. We went in. The house had already been called to order, and this great erudite, educational body was proceeding to do business. The room was filled with half a regiment of the dearest, sweetest, daintiest little schoolmarms, both he and she, that ever shined the beacon light of learning into the dark hovels of our benighted world, or warmed into life, the latent energies of an erring urchin with a common whiteoak paddle. It was, indeed, a pleasing spectacle to look over this vast assemblage of learning and brain power, and especially to contemplate the aggregated sweetness and schoolmarm charms of our own county. To look at these, with their fresh rosy faces, their cunning, roguish eyes, their fair, placid brows, one would hardly guess that such as they ever once puzzled their dear little noggins and bit the ends off pencils over the obtruse principles of psychology or logic, or were perfectly familiar with Euclid and conic sections, the theory of limits, logarithms, quadratic surds, Eanead and the periphrastic conjugation, and could, at any time, decline such a word as "bonus" with one eye shut. I say one would hardly guess it, but what eye of man can gauge the mind or heart of woman by outward evidence? Music, recitations, able essays and strong discourses on educational subjects -- deep and profound discussions, learned remarks, wise suggestions and practical hints, all these and more, filled up the forenoon and foreheads of these disciples of Ichabod Crane. While Prof. Jagboys was still discussing the best method of leading the wayward American youth up the flowery path of knowledge and teaching his "young idea how to shoot" like a William Tell, noon came, and he had to leave off for dinner. The modern pedagogue is invariably of the epicurean school, when it comes to a free-for-all dinner on the ground. And such a dinner as was heaped upon that campus! White-topped pie, stratified cake, cucumber pickles and preserves galore, baked ham, roast beef and whole flocks of barnyard fowl, cut down early in life and submitted to a culinary process, so well known to the deft hand of a country mamma. Of such rare viands, we partook abundantly, while the pretty little schoolmarms smiled and looked sweeter than ever, if possible, as they chatted glibly with some buccal Ichabod, who, by a happy physiological adaptation common to the male of the profession could laugh and talk, even while dissecting out the femur bone of a deceased fowl, or excavating into the tertiary formation of a stratified cake. At the noon recess, driving and walking for an hour was in order, and soon, these educators of the world, like peripatetic encyclopedias of classified knowledge, overspread the surrounding country and made it smile, as it were, with erudition and voluptuous brain power. The afternoon session was similar in character and importance to the forenoon, and finally ended in a vociferous effort from the lusty lungs of some pedagogical savant, which, at least, resulted in a great atmospheric disturbance in that immediate vicinity. Then we implicated old Gunpowder in the harness and connected it with the buggy, and came leisurely home and lived happily ever after.

JESSIE McCALL, Farmer, Young Co., Tex. -- Little Mr. Big Hat: I will try to write you a letter. I am going to school. I like my teacher, and I like to study. I sit with my little sister at school. There are about twenty-nine in my room. There are two rooms to the schoolhouse. The Sunday school had a picnic May 21. I was in a dialogue and said a speech, and was in a song and had a nice time. I go to Sunday school every Sunday. I live in Farmer. It is not a very big town. It is in the timber. I have two little sisters. They both go to school. My playmates are Estelle Pittman and Fannie Hunt. We play "wolf over the river," and other things.

LUCILLE DOWLEN, Petty, Lamar Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: I again tap at the door for admittance, and hope I will be allowed to join the happy band. I have had a spell of slow fever and was sick two months, and my life was almost despaired of. I have at last recovered, but my eyes are too weak to attend school, and I stay at home and help mamma. I can piece quilts, tend the baby, and go on errands, and can make myself very useful. Billie Brown, your letter was very nice. You should write again. Mr. Big Hat, do you know how many cousins there are? They are so nice, I would like to know them. I am 9 years old. I have three sisters and three brothers. Etta Atkinson and Carlisle Russell, your letters are so very nice; you will certainly write again. Now, please do not lay my letter down where old Peggy can see it, and I will try to write again.

OLLIE MAE ROGERS, Bonner, Freestone Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: After an absence of several weeks, I again, make my appearance. I started for a stroll in the woods and just took my book and pencil to chat with the cousins awhile. Cousin Lantie, I see you are busy counting the votes, and Herbert, there he sits over there, looking like he had lost his aunt, because he can't make his poetry rhyme. Never mind, Cousin Herbert, have the pluck for a bushel of pluck is worth a ton of luck. And so, Cousin Gene, "Chinn" told on you, at last, did she? I rather think Myrtie wanted a seat by Cousin Joe to tell him how much she, instead of you, liked him, don't you think so? I know I would. Cousin Winnie Williams, I will send you "beyond pardon," soon. Eugene Savell, thanks for your compliment. I can return one, for I think your letters real nice. What has become of our old-time cousin, Bessie Bee? She must have got lost, or must bee off on a buzzard ride, like Cousin Herbert Taylor. Mr. Big Hat, I want to tell you of my first short travel, in fact, my first travel. It was to a big show. First, we had to beg papa and mamma all day before they would let us go. But, we started at last, and went and stayed all night at our uncle's, about one mile from the depot, and was to get on the train at 4 o'clock, next morning. We went to bed as early as possible, but I guess you all know how soon that was, by the time I told Uncle all of the news -- how many hogs papa had, and if they were getting along all right, and how that old horse was, papa traded for, and so on. Then, Auntie says, "How many chickens has your ma, and how many hens has she setting?" (I knew one tried to set on the bed awful hard, but I tied her tail and head together, and put her in the yard, and she did not know head from tail.) I told her the best I knew, for I knew old Top Knot set over the hen-house door, 'cause she pecked a hole in my foretop when I was after some eggs to boil in our play-house. Now, you may laugh at me, playing in a play-house, and me most grown, but, we just had kind of a tea party, you know. Yes, I know you know, 'cause I saw you nod your countenance. But, oh! the show! Well, I told Aunt all about ma and her shabby gang. Then, we went to bed, and I thought then I was ready to go to Nappy's house, but I was fussing about my shoes creaking (I had some new ones, you know), and Cousin said (Cousin's a boy, but I guess you would have found it out) if I would soak my shoes in water, they would not creak. So, I put them in a bowl of water, and let them stay all night. I went to sleep after awhile, but I slept with one eye open, for fear I would not wake up in time. I woke at 1, and tried to get them up. They said, "Wait awhile," so I waited until 3, and we were nearly ready to go, when we heard the train coming and behold! my old shoes were so stuck up, I could not get them on. You may guess I invoked a blessing on Cousin's head! But, it was the show train, instead of the passenger, and I made them get me some more shoes. We all got on the train and happily started for the show. And, oh, I felt so grand, I bet if my imaginations had been weighed, they would have broken the gin scales. When we got to our place of destination, I was hungry (for we had not eaten any breakfast). I had never eaten at a hotel, and I guess you know you have to wait a long time before you get anything to eat after you go in. We sat down to the table and I did not see anything but knives and forks. I wondered if I was going to have to eat them, but, by and by, a fellow came and gave me a paper, and I looked at it and saw the names of all sorts of good things on it. He asked me what did I want, and I told him, and another fellow came and brought a glass of ice water and grapes and apples. What do you reckon I thought when I asked for a cup of tea and some hot victuals, and he brought me that? I just thought he was a maniac, and I would not touch them, and asked him, did he call water, tea. He said just wait, and I guess I did wait for him, don't you? Oh! deliver me from living in town. I want to live in the country, where everything is on the table at once. And, I had rather be my own servant than have any one to wait on me. I had rather work than to wait. But, this is not half of my trip, but I will have to close, for it would break Jay Gould's great-grandmammy to just write on one side of the paper only. I had a fine time at the show.

DELESA COX, Blanco, Blanco Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: As my chum said she wrote to you, I am determined to write, too, for I must never let her get ahead of me on anything. My chum and I are very naughty little girls sometimes. We have spent all of our school days together, and have been deskmates, classmates and very good friends, all the while. I expect it would be better for us both, had we never seen each other, but we don't think that way. Florence Giddens, I read your last letter. I thought it was so nice. You certainly had a time getting upon that horse, but did not do quite as bad as I did one time, when trying to mount mine from a stump. The stump not being high enough for me to jump down on my horse, I thought I would have to jump with all my might, so, gathering together all my strength, I jumped with full force. But, alas! instead of hitting in the saddle, I hit the ground on the other side, and it did not feel as soft as a feather bed, either. My chum told you that she would describe her town next time she wrote, but she told me I could describe it, as she may never write again. I will do the best I can, and to begin, of course, I'll say that it is a small town, situated in the southern part of Blanco county, on the Blanco river. Now, does it not seem that everything here is named Blanco? We have two rivers by that name -- one Big Blanco, the other, Little Blanco, but the little one is the bigger one of the two. Our town contains about 500 inhabitants, and has five dry goods and grocery stores, one drug store, one milliner shop, one blacksmith shop, and one barber shop. I believe that is all that is worth mentioning. Lawrence George, I am acquainted with Rosa Palus. She stayed three or four months at our house last year. My favorite flower is the little blue violet.

DESSIE REEDER, New Boston, Bowie Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: I have just been reading your letters and think them very interesting. It makes me want to join your band, though, I fear I can not interest you. We took a trip back to our old home in Arkansas this summer. Now listen at them laugh and say, "She is an Arkansawyer." We had a nice time while we were there. On our way home, we camped in Red river bottom and had plenty of company -- mosquitoes and a belled hog. You may guess we never slept much, and water was scarce and dust, plentiful. We don't know how to appreciate home, until we travel a little. After we returned home, I heard mama singing, "Home, Sweet Home," and I thought, how true. Even the organ made sweeter music. I thought of the little girl that I heard of, that was visiting, and she heard their house had burned, and she said she was glad, for she would not have to go home. Then, she thought of her chewing gum, and she said, "O, there is my chewing gum burnt." Cousins, don't you think that was a sad home -- nothing but a chew of wax to care for? Let us all try to make home happy. I would like to correspond with some girl of my age -- 14 years.

FANNIE ARCHER, Anson, Jones Co., Tex. -- Dear Editor and cousins: It has been several months since I have written to the Cozy Corner. I live out on this western plain, with plenty of wind and sun, and some rain. It has been very dry this year. People, for the most part, made no crops. Last year, there were fine crops. We are having a series of rains at present, but, too late to help this year's crops. We like it out here very well. There are a great many people moving about this year. The prairie dogs damaged wheat a great deal. This is a fine place for stock. The grass is mesquite. We were bothered a great deal this year by flies. I go to school three miles from home; I ride, and I dearly love to ride horseback. I hope to attend summer normal somewhere next summer, and then teach school. I will tell the cousins of my trip up here. We started about the middle of January and arrived at our journey's end on the 31st. We moved in wagons, and you may rest assured, I enjoyed it all, the whole way. We came from Coryell county, and passed through the towns of Hamilton, Comanche, Baird and Anson. Well, cousins, as all are choosing their favorite flowers, I will name the red rose. I will be sixteen the 22nd of February.

MARY BLANCHE JOLINE, Wichita Falls, Wichita Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Here comes another little girl who would like to join your band. I have been reading the cousins' letters and enjoy them so much. I think the cape jasmine is the prettiest flower. I am 9 years old and read in the third reader. I have no pets, but a bird. I will inclose stamp for yours and Miss Big Bonnet's pictures. Can anyone tell me why the letter "G" is like the sun? or why a chicken, three weeks and two days old, walks across the road?

WILHELM LEROY, Boyce, Ellis Co., Tex. -- Little Men and Women: May I step in the Cozy Corner and chat awhile? Ive Dawson, all the time I have to read is at night. I pick cotton all day long, and after supper, I get my school books and study until 11 o'clock, and then, I read some favorite book till 12 o'clock. I have a good many books. My favorite books are "Macaria," by Augusta J. Evans, "Barriers Burned Away," by E. P. Roe, and Irving's "Sketch Book." I have read his "Legends of Sleepy Hollow," five or six times, and I find something funny about it every time. These are not all my favorites, but it would take too much space for more. Cousins, let me assume the relation of an elder sister, and tender you a word of counsel. Study literature primarily for the thoughts it contains. Attend to these thoughts until you understand them, and see their connection one with another. Accept only such as seen to you, just and true, and accept these at their proper value. Notice carefully, the words each author uses; see how he arranges them, whether he puts his thoughts clearly, what allusions he makes, what acquaintance with other books and with nature he shows, and in what spirit he writes. Your study of the author should put you in possession of his thought and his style, and should introduce you to the man himself. I will write about different ways of looking at things. The most of the things of this life may be set to music, but people get the wrong tune and sing "Naomi" or "Windham," when they ought to set things to the music of "Mount Pisgah" and "Coronation." We may not all of us have the means to graduate at Harvard, Yale or Oxford, but there is a college at which all of us graduate -- the college of hard knocks. Misfortune, Fatigue, Exposure and Disaster are the professors; kicks, cuffs and blows are the curriculum; the day we leave the world is our graduation. Some sit down and cry; some turn their faces to the wall and pout; others stand up and conquer. Judging from their looks, among the happiest people in all the world are the apple-stand women, knitting under their umbrellas, while they wait for customers; rag pickers, who go around with dogcart; soap fat men, that shake the streets with boisterous racket; day-laborers, that break the cobble stones and put down their chunks of salt pork with an appetite that kings and couriers might envy. The largest number of complainers you shall find among those of us who have lucrative professions, large stores, well-warmed houses, luxuriant wardrobes and plenty of attendants. It would be well if, when tempted to complain, we would go down to see how other people have it. Saadi, the poet of Russia, in his poverty, walked the streets barefooted, and soliloquized, day after day: "What a pity that I, the greatest poet in Russia, should have no shoes." "No shoes," he constantly complained to himself, until one day, he met a man who had no feet. "Ah," he said, "that man is worse off than I am. I have no shoes, but he has no feet." According to my calculation, during the 6000 years of the world's existence, there must have been about 2,000,000 days of sunshine, allowing 195,000 days for storms. Amid so much beauty and luxuriance, how can we complain! It would be well if, not only looking at our own condition, but at other people's, we set out the sparkle, instead of the gloom. With 500 faults of our own, we ought to let somebody else have one, at least. I am afraid that the imperfections of other people will kill us yet. All the vessels on the sea seem to be in bad trim, except our schooner. A person full of faults is most merciless in his criticism of the faults of others. How much better, like the sun, to find light wherever we look, letting people have their idiosyncrasies and every one work his own way. But, people in the critical mood groan, after what they call the good old days. They say: "Just think of the pride of the people in our time. Just look at the ladies' hats!" Why, there is nothing in the ladies' hats of to-day to equal the coal-scuttle hats of a hundred years ago. They say: "Just look at the way people dress their hair!" But, the extremest style of to-day will never equal the topknots which our great-grandmothers wore, put up with such high combs, that we would have thought would have made our great-grandfathers die of laughter. The hair was lifted into a pyramid a foot high. On the top of that tower lay a white rosebud. Shoes of bespangled white kid, and heels, two or three inches high. Grandfather went out to meet her on the floor with coat of sky-blue and vest of white satin, embroidered with gold lace, lace ruffles around his wrists, and his hair falling in a queue. O, ye modern hairdressers! stand aghast at the locks of our ancestry! They say our ministers are all askew, but just think of our clergymen entering a pulpit with their hair fixed up in the shape of some of the ancient bishops. The great George Washington had his horse's hoofs blackened when about to appear on a parade, and writes to Europe, ordering sent for the use of himself and family, "One silver laced hat, seven pair of silver buckles, a coat made of silk, one pair of gold sleeve buttons, six pair of kid gloves, one dozen cambric pocket handkerchiefs," besides ruffles and tucker. On the old time training days, the most sober men were apt to take a day to themselves. Many of the fancy drinks of to-day were unknown to them, but their hard cider, mint julep, metheglin, hot toddy and lemonade (in which the lemon was not at all prominent), sometimes made lively work for the broad-brimmed hats and silver knee-buckles. Talk of dissipating -- keeping of late hours! Why, did they not have their bees, and sausage stuffings, and tea parties, and dances, that for heartiness and uproar, utterly eclipsed all the waltzes, lancers, redowas and breakdowns of the nineteenth century? And, they never went home till morning! And, as to the old-time courtships, oh my! Washington Irving describes them. Lantie, my favorite flower is the blue-bell. The Victoria Regio is about the largest flower. It grows in the Amazons and Orinoco basins. If Peggy don't get this rhapsodizing, I will write again.

MAY MIXSON, Bruceville, McLennan Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat, Miss Big Bonnet and cousins: As Miss Big Bonnet slipped in, maybe I can do the same. Cousins, how have you all enjoyed your vacation? I haven't had a very nice one, and I am glad school has begun again. We have a new teacher. My favorite flower is the modest violet. Several of the cousins speak of their little brothers' deaths. I know how to sympathize with them, for my darling little brother, Bertram, died Aug. 8. I went to a birthday party last Saturday night. We all had a splendid time. "Boston" was our favorite play. Wilhelmine Clark, I agree with you about the emblem flower of our Cozy Corner. The reason I chose the modest violet was because it was a native flower of our state. Miss Big Bonnet, I think your brother should let you write when you want to. I am sure he should allow his sister privileges, that he does not the cousins. But, that is natural for a boy. He will give any other girl anything he has, but he won't give it to his sister. Genevieve Myrdock, if I were you, I would punish Braxton Rogers some way for drawing your picture. Braxton, you had better walk pretty straight, or some of us girls will draw your picture. Prof. Big Hat, I think your department is the best I ever read, and I think it has the best writers of any department. Cousins, do you think girls and boys should attend parties while they are going to school? Prof. Lucas isn't going to let us have any till Christmas, and then, we are going to have one every night. Several of the cousins spoke of reading "Elsie Dinsmore." I have read part of the books and am almost wild for the rest. I have also read "The Mill on the Floss," but I don't like it much. Cousins, have you read "Scottish Chiefs?" I have, and think it is the grandest book I ever read. When I speak of it, I generally say, "William Wallace." I never tire of it. I have read it about a half a dozen times. Prof. Big Hat, I wish you would have yours and Miss Big Bonnet's pictures in each paper, and both of you write a letter each week. I would like to correspond with some of the girl cousins. Lella Du Bose, come again. All of the Bruceville people love to read your letters.

BESSIE WISEMAN, Paul's Valley, Indian Territory > Garvin Co., Okla. -- Mr. Big Hat: I am a little girl 10 years old. My papa takes The News and I read the children's letters, and they are very amusing to me. I am going to school here, but our schools are not as good as the schools in Texas. We used to live in Comanche, Tex., but the Indian Territory is growing so fast, that we will soon catch up with Texas, both in population and enterprise. (I mean when we get one state out of the country). I would like the cousins to come and see us Indians.

JIMMIE STELL, Stephenville, Erath Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: For a long time, have I been a reader of the Cozy Corner department, and have written many letters, but for fear of Peggy, did not send them. I hope he will be gone somewhere or asleep when my letter comes. If I could write like some of the cousins, how happy I would be! Dixie O'Neal, come again and tell us more about your ride up in the moon. Also, Emma Miller. I will give my vote for the white flag. I think it is so pretty and it blooms so early, about the first flower to bloom in the spring. It has been raining here, but has cleared off, I guess. I am not going to school now, but will start in a week or two. How I do like to go to school! I would like to correspond with some of you about my age. My age is 14. I do not live in town, but about two and one-half miles from town, out on the old Roberts' farm, but go to town to school.

LEROY FULMER, Swift, Nacogdoches Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Will you allow a boy from the extreme part of Texas to join your band? Long have I wanted to write to the Cozy Corner, but I could never have courage enough. But, I have just finished reading the cousins' letters, and they were so interesting this week, that I thought I would try. I see some of the cousins have been bragging about the pleasure they were enjoying, and what nice homes they have. I think my home is a very nice one. I live on a pleasant farm. It is so level, any one can see a hog half a mile in a westward direction. Hurrah for the flower contest! I don't reckon I have made my appearance in the columns of the cousins in time to get a vote, but if you will allow me, I will vote for the red rose, for it is the sweetest flower that grows in the flower garden. All flowers are nice to me. Flowers have a great power over me. I am that much like a girl, for I hate to kill a wild flower in the field. I see one of the cousins mention something about wearing a flower to the State Fair, so they will know each other. I will make a motion for all of the cousins to wear a certain color of ribbon -- just a small piece -- when they go visiting, so they can tell each other in any town or village in which they may go. I would be so glad to see some of the cousins in the village where I live, but I haven't seen when any cousin has written a letter from this part of the country. I guess they are afraid Peggy will get their letters. I am afraid of Peggy, myself, but, if he tackles this, I will try it again. That is the way for any one to succeed. The piece, "Try, Try Again," is one of the grandest pieces I ever read. If every one of us would, when we fail in any of our undertakings, only try again, we would succeed at last. What put Grover Cleveland where he is to-day? Try, try again. Suppose when he was defeated, he had given it up and said, "I can't be elected," where would he have been to-day? If he had means to live on the rest of his life, he would not have been half so high in the estimation of the people in the United States -- not only in the United States, but in England. Come again, Lena M. Wiese; your advice to the bad boys was read with much pleasure by me, and you can compose a real nice letter. Annie Elizabeth McCaslon, you write a nice letter. I would like to see another letter in The News from you. Dixie O'Neal, Emma Miller, Robert Scott, Willard Marl and Lizzie Carnes, come again, and lots of others I can't mention, that I would like to hear from again.

MARIE ROGERS, Blanco, Blanco Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Will you allow me to step in and chat with the cousins a while? If so, I will promise to stay only a short time. I guess you will all know that this is my first letter and won't expect much. I have seen but one letter from here and that was my sister's. I guess I can do as well as she, for I am older. Education seems to be the main subject with the older cousins, and pets, the main subject with the younger ones, and as I have neither, I guess I am pretty "hard up" for something to write about. I think every boy and girl should have a good education, for any one, if educated, can get through the world much easier. It is so much easier to get employment of any kind if one has a good education. Florence Giddens, if I knew it would not "spoil" you too much, I would tell you that I thought your letter the best in the issue in which it appeared. Mr. Buzzard Rider, we could not do without you at all. Please come again. I love to laugh once in a while. Mr. Big Hat, I fear all the cousins are going to turn out poets. I am sorry that I can't write poetry. I will vote for my favorite flower, though, I hardly know which it is. I love them all. I think the Cozy Corner is as nice a name as we could have for the department, but I reckon anything for a change, so, I will cast my vote for the pink --

         "A token of all the heart can keep,
         Of holy love in its fountain deep."

Mr. Big Hat's response:
The name of the department will not be changed. The flower is simply emblematic.

BESSIE LEE DUPRE, Monroe, Rusk Co., Tex. -- Miss Big Bonnet and Mr. Big Hat: Will you let a little girl of seven years enter your Cozy Corner? I go to school and am in the fourth grade. Miss Big Bonnet, you said you are just going to kindergarten, and I don't expect I am much older than you, and I read every bit of your letter last week to my mamma. Next time I write, I will tell you how many pieces little sister Young and I play on the piano. How many of the cousins, just seven, are members of the church? I joined the Christian church last summer and was baptized. I am a member of the junior Christian Endeavor society. The violets are my favorite flowers, because they are blue, like my eyes. Miss Big Bonnet, it was so good in you and your five little friends to be so kind to Daisy; but, I'm afraid you misrepresented those six little Texas girls when you spoke of them crowding past you and not noticing you. I didn't think little Texas girls were that rude. Mr. Big Hat, I wish to ask a question: Is Ruth Cleveland deaf and dumb? She and I are nearly the same age. I must quit now and write to a little friend of mine who is deaf and dumb. She attends the institute for the deaf and dumb in Austin. She writes me such nice, sweet letters. Here is a stamp, for which please send me both yours and Miss Big Bonnet's pictures. Next time, I'll send 10 cents for the Sam Houston fund.

Mr. Big Hat's response:
Ruth Cleveland was five years old in October. As she learned the 23d psalm to repeat to her papa on his birthday a couple of years ago, Mr. Big Hat would not imagine her to be deaf and dumb.

JONIE SAND, Rockwall, Rockwall Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: The young people's corner has grown to be such a great thing, that I can no longer resist the temptation to join. Several of the cousins seem to become tired of hearing the smaller cousins speak so often of their pets. I wonder how many of the cousins know in what great importance our pets' forefathers were held. They were sacred things, and represented certain gods, through which they were worshipped. And, with an eastern devotion, the ancients knelt at the shrine of their idolatry. The greatest of the Egyptian gods was Ptah. He was the god of light, of heat and of fire. The sun, or the spirit that ruled the sun, was evidently the giver of light, life and truth. He was the ruler of the sky. The sacred beetle, believed to be the originator of itself, represented this god. One of the beings most worshipped by the Chaldeans was Arnati, the earth. The emblem for this was the cow, and the soul of the cow was addressed in worship. The Chaldeans also worshipped Venus, to whom the cooing dove and fish were sacred. Some of the ancients worshipped the dog, others the cat. To offend any of these was to bring the wrath of the gods upon you, though, in a few instances, the cat worshippers would kill the dogs, and vice versa, through disrespect to each other. Enough in favor of respecting our pets. Alas for the boy who would have dared tie a tin can to a dog's tail in those days gone by. Well, if the cousins will allow me, and Peggy of letter fame does not nip this, my first effort, in the bud, I will call again.

ANNE ROBERTS, Whitewright, Grayson Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Here I come again. This makes the second time I have written to the Corner. The first time, Peggy got my letter. I have four pets -- two canaries and two mockingbirds. I love them, too. I will be 13 the 11th day of November. As all are telling their favorite flower, I will tell mine. It is the magnolia.

EFFIE WATKINS, Denson Springs, Anderson Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat: Be sure not to have my name Wilkins this time, as you did the other time I wrote. As all of the cousins are voting for their choice of flower, I will vote for mine. It is the cape jessamine. Cousin Herbert Taylor, when you take another buzzard ride, just guide your buzzard over this way, so all of us can see you.

LELLA DU BOSE, Rising Sun, Jones Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: "Happy is the man that findeth wisdom." Never did those simple words move me as they did a few days after I sent my last letter to the office, I can not tell you, cousins, what a mistake I made; it would be too mortifying. But, nevertheless, I made it. I could not send a messenger to stop the publication, as one of our writers did when he did not want a certain man killed in the first chapter of his book. I could only wish Peggy would eat it. Peggy did not eat it, but our editor was kind enough to leave out a few sheets of my letter. Now, what I am going to write when I have correspondents all over the state, and do not write the same thing to any of them? I do not want my correspondents to pick up a paper I have written to and find something I have written to them in it. Mr. Big Hat, I do not know why it is, but I have always found your paper the hardest to write to. It may be because the cousins write such good letters, and I am afraid I will come out behind. But, every one has a right to try and try. I will, though it end in terrible disaster. We had been from home nearly three weeks and had nothing to read. I was getting -- well, nearly distracted. We were traveling along at a "sober trot" one morning -- I believe it was the second day of our journey homeward -- reminding one of the early days, when our forefathers crossed the plains, when I saw something white lying by the side of the road. Brother got it and it proved to be The News. Never was Mr. Big Hat's charming picture more welcome! I turned to the letters first, of course. Johnny Price, I thought you were a little too hard on those who do not study their books during vacation. I do not exactly study my school books, but I read good books and magazines, from which I think a great deal is to be learned. I will give a sketch of the life of our great English poet, Milton. Milton was the most learned of all the poets of the seventeenth century. In learning, sublimity and invention, he stands far above all English poets who had lived before his day. He was born in London, Dec. 9, 1608. His father, who had suffered much for conscience sake, doubtless, infused into his son, those principles which made him, in after years, the great man that he was. His early education was conducted with great care, and he made rapid progress in his studies, and early acquired a taste for music and literature. At the age of 16, he entered the university of Cambridge, where he soon became distinguished for his scholarship, particularly in classical studies, which he pursued with a zealous devotion. He remained at the university seven years. After leaving the university, he retired to his father's house in Buckinghamshire. Here, he lived for five years, devoting his time to literature. It was here he made the well-known remark, "He cared not when he came into life, only that he came in right." In his 21st year, he wrote his hymn on "Nativity," which showed the people that a great improvement was about to be made in English poetry. In 1633, he visited the continent where his society was courted by the most distinguished people. He visited Italy, the most accomplished Englishman that ever visited her sunny land. On his return, he opened a school in London. He married the daughter of Richard Powel, a high royalist. The union did not turn out happily. In 1649, he was appointed secretary under Cromwell. He held this office until Cromwell's death in 1658. His eyesight, which had been failing for ten years, entirely disappeared, and for the last eighteen years of his life, he was entirely blind. During the long years of darkness, his only consolation was his two daughters, who read and sang for him. His greatest work (a book named "Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained") was written after he became blind. His daughters read him the account of the battle in heaven in the Bible. This set him to thinking, and as he thought he dictated his thoughts to his daughter, who wrote them down. It is said for twelve years, his daughters were always at his side to read, sing or play the harp for him. As one read for him, the other would write down his remarks, and in this way, the greatest poet in England wrote the greatest poem in the English language. They were about three years in finishing it. Milton, who had been wealthy in his young days, spent the last years of his life in a garret in London, on a pension of £250 a year. The girls were never at school. Cousins, while I write, I hear some one playing the harp. The tune is "Gentle Annie," and it brings to my mind of how I heard that same song once before. A father who had just lost a little boy, sang it, changing "Annie" to "Baby." It makes me feel sad as I recall the scene. Odis Riddle, you must get your mamma to buy a new stove pipe so you can write to The News. Minnie Rodgers, I am not yet "sweet 16," but sister has passed that time, and she seemed to think it nice, but lately, she has changed, for she has a horrible presentment that she is growing old. That is why you do not hear from her oftener. Ghosts are appearing from every corner, so good night.

LEAT HILL, Lawn, Taylor Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat: Here comes a cowboy, asking admittance into your Cozy Corner. It has been raining for a month. The ground is sure wet. It is a difficult matter to ride over the prairie now. A horse will bog down in the low places. I went out to the famous Bald Eagle flat to-day, and I had my six-shooter and my Winchester with me. I was riding "Old Mexico." I call him that because I got him in Mexico. I ran a bunch of antelopes. I killed one and brought it home, and it was fine. I do love wild meat. Cousins, how would you like to know about my travels in the west? I am an orphan. I have been on the cow trail all of my life. My uncle John has a big ranch in the west. I stay there the most of my time. I was in Mexico about six months ago. My companion and I were hunting one day. We were going through a deep canyon, and I said to Bill: "Here we're going to have a fight with some bear." No sooner had I spoken, than the ground and trees began to shake. I tell you, cousins, you don't know how bad I felt. I leveled my pistol, and down came my bear, but Bill failed to kill his, and he came leaping and struck my left shoulder, and broke my collar bone. So, that weakened me some. The bear struck Bill and killed him for a while, and I had to kill the bear. He made a leap at me, but I shot him three times before he could get to me. He dropped dead. So, there was Bill and the two bears, dead, but Bill had only had the breath knocked out of him. We were soon ready to go home, and there, I had to stay, until my shoulder got well. Then, Bill and I went to Colorado with a herd of cattle. The country there, is rough. I was running my horse one day after a wild hog. I was so excited, that I let my horse run off of a bluff, fifty-five feet high, but owing to the sand in the bottom, we fell safe. I would like to correspond with some of the cousins.

BRAWNIE RAGSDALE, Barry, Navarro Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: Here I come again to have a little chat with the cousins. I will take a seat right here in the corner. One day, my two little chums came to see me, and we thought we would [go] to a steep bank. We climbed down, and when we got down, we were picking up some little rocks, when we heard something, and it sure scared us. We started to climb up, when we stepped on a great big old snake. It scared me so bad, that I jumped clear down to the bottom of the bank, and nearly jumped into the water. Now, that was true. We live a mile from Barry. It situated on a railroad and has five stores, one lumber yard, a tanyard and a broom factory, church and hotel, and about 100 inhabitants. The school will begin the first Monday in November. I will be glad, for I love to go. I went to my aunt's not very long ago. My cousin and I went down to the branch, and when we got nearly there, we saw a wolf. We thought that it was after us, and we lit to our heels. Come again, Miss Big Bonnet, for I like to read your letters. Mr. Big Hat, you don't grow much. What has become of Rudolph Bollick? Etta Atkinson, Charlie Russell and Etta Lee, come again. I think your letters were very interesting. Well, yonder comes Peggy.

AILEEN M. LAWRENCE, Arlington, Tarrant Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: I would like to join your happy band, if you will let me in. I have been to see all of my kinfolks, but two or three families, and have been having a jolly time. I went on top of Santa Anna mountain, and on top of Cedar Gap mountain. There were rocks, water, cedars, bushes, and some sage grass on top of both. I could see a long way. I saw a long line of mountains; they were very dim. I went to see my grandmamma, and I staid a month. We have been traveling for about four months, and now are on our homeward way. We went west, as far as the edge of the plains. Papa has to get home and teach his school at Pleasant Valley. His school begins the first Monday in November. I will be very glad when school begins. I wish some of my friends at Arlington would write to the Cozy Corner. I do love to read the cousins' letters so much. We are at Comanche now, and it has been raining for two or three days, a little drizzly rain and a slight norther. Miss Big Bonnet, I wish you would come again. I read your letter with very much pleasure. Lena Weise, your letter was very interesting, too. I will be 11 years old the 9th of February.

EARLY CORNELIUS, Mountain Peak, Ellis Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: I have just finished reading the bright and merry letters of "Little Men and Women," and lo! I am once more seized with a desire to contribute a few words to its interesting pages. It must be a severe strain on Mr. Big Hat to admit all the cousins that are clamoring for recognition, but then, who could stay away from such an interesting circle, where the refined and affable youth of our land can meet and exchange ideas? Willard Marl, we are eagerly awaiting for another letter, and in it, we hope to learn your impressions of England, as you promised. Bertha Tompson, Emma Miller, Minnie Rogers, Gus Ford, L. Stewart, it is time for a "re-appearance." Well, I believe the cousins all write a biography of their favorite poet or author, so I will write up my favorite, John G. Whittier. He was born Dec. 17, 1807, at Haverhill, Mass., in the farmstead made familiar to the world by his own description of it in "Snowbound." He attended the district school during the winter. He was 20 years old before he was able to attend a six-months' term. Then, he taught school for a term, and on the means, thus procured, spent another six months in the academy. Between 1829 and 1840, he made several ventures as a newspaper editor, first with the American Manufacturer of Boston, then with the Haverhill Gazette. He was also editor of many other prominent papers. He was opposed to slavery, and was counselor and secretary in many anti-slavery societies. His chief vocation was the composition of the poems which have made his name a household word in the United States. Most of his life was passed first in his native town of Haverhill, and then, in the near-by village of Amesbury. He died at Hampton Falls, N. H., Sept. 7, 1892. His poems are mostly of a descriptive or easy-going character. Shakespeare is probably the most apt, accurate and striking commentator on human nature in its manifold phases known to men. His clairvoyant mind penetrated all recesses of our common nature, and his genius phrased in the most striking words, what his mind saw. He, thus, enriched and enlightened the world with his matchless genius. Some of the cousins have suggested that we pen-picture Miss Genevieve Myrdock and Joe Farmer next. Acting under their suggestions, I will pen-picture Miss Genevieve. I imagine she is a girl of 18, with light hair, brown eyes and dimples and clinging, feminine ways, disposition very amiable, jovial and pleasant. I haven't phrenologized her head yet, but as she is a genius-ess, I suppose she has a fair intellect. Now, girls, if any of you doubt my ability to draw an "ideal pen-picture," just offer as big a bunch of compliments as Miss Gene did, and I'll guarantee a first-class picture. Mr. Farmer is about 20 years old, very fond of books, brown hair, blue eyes and fair complexion. Now, Mr. Big Hat, this is a rambling and gossipy letter, and is only intended as an advance toward better acquaintance. Possibly, in the future, I may send you something more interesting. Meanwhile, Russell, I received the copy of the "Young Author" that you sent to me. Many thanks.

MAYME LORAINE, Rising Sun, Jones Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: I am just in the humor for writing, so will write, if there is no objection. First, let me tell the prize winners how much I enjoyed their articles. Johnnie Jackson, you have such a pretty way of describing a trip. I don't believe we have any special subject to discuss, so I will talk of the one nearest my heart -- books. I sometimes ask myself the question, "What would I do if it wasn't for my dear books?" I never answer it, and quit thinking of it, as soon as possible. I see some of the cousins say they do not like novels. Well, I can't say I don't, for I do. I don't like all novels, no, indeed! I love good novels, and think I am greatly benefited by reading them. For instance, Charles Dickens' novels, I have read only a few of his, but think they are all good. "A Tale of Two Cities" gives as complete a history of those days when the ax was wielded by a bloody hand, sending into eternity, many lives unprepared to leave this world and enter the next, as I ever saw. In "The Old Curiosity Shop," I found a little girl called Little Nell. She was only 14, yet, in those few years, she had found so many friends, that when she died, old men and women, young men and ladies, boys and girls and little tots, wept. Dear cousins, you who have not read this novel, had better read it, and strive to be as good as this little girl. There are others of Dickens' novels I have read and should like to mention, but space is valuable. I have also read Dickens' "Child's History of England" several times. I wish some one would finish that history, for I don't like to read things that don't end. Mrs. Holmes is another good writer. If you don't know anything else when you get through, you will know, through her work, a sweet, loving woman. Mrs. Wilson is another of my favorites. I think "St. Elmo, by her, is splendid. If you learn nothing else, when you have read her novels, you will know a few more big words, and if you take your dictionary and read correctly, you will be much wiser. Sir Walter Scott, Hawthorne and Washington Irving have written some good books, too. There is another writer whom I have learned to love through his writings, and that is John Ruskin. His "Sesame and Lillies" is the most beautiful thing I have ever read. It shows exactly the character of the man that penned the words. I hope all the cousins have read the book; if not, I hope you will read it soon. Lillian Love, you must come oftener.

MAUD FOY, McKinney, Collin Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat and cousins: My school commences to-morrow. I do love to go to school. My papa has rented our place out, so we will move, and I will have to go to school with strangers. But, it won't take me long to get acquainted with the children. I will cast my vote for the modest and pretty little blue violet.

         "Then let me to the valley go,
             This pretty flower to see;
         That I may also learn to grow
             In sweet humility."

Cousins, we were so slow about getting the money for the Sam Houston stone, that we didn't get to have it at the fair. Mr. Big Hat, if you haven't got enough money to finish the stone, I will send some more, and I think all of the cousins ought to send in some more. Let's hurry and get it finished. Hedwig Pfeffer, my flowers died. I was very sorry. Oct. 5 was my birthday. I was 13. Leonora Rentz, how old are you? You surely are very small. Cousin Ludie Sanders, there are some Sanders living here. Maybe you are some relation. They are very nice and clever people. Paula Evans, I am, indeed, sorry your only brother died. I have one little brother dead.

AZADA BOWMAN, Hillsboro, Hill Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat: It has been a long time since I wrote to the Cozy Corner, but I have read most of the letters in the meantime. I spent a very pleasant vacation, and a very pleasant month of it, in the country. But, I am glad school days are here again. I like my teacher very much. I study Texas history. This is the first year I have studied history. I thank Mr. Big Hat very much for arranging the paper so nicely for us children. Didn't Miss Big Bonnet suggest this? It was a very bright idea. The last letter Little Miss Big Bonnet wrote was very interesting. I have moved in another part of town, since I moved last, so Myra and I live far apart, and we don't see each other often. We do not attend the same school. I hope Peggy will be in another part of town, too, when my letter arrives.

BESSIE SNELL, Houston, Harris Co., Tex. -- Mr. Big Hat: I have wanted to write you a long time, but mamma would not let me. Now, she says I may write to vote. So, I vote for the lovely, delicate hyacinth. I want to thank you for our paper. I claim it for my own. My brother takes the Youth's Companion. I have no sister to share my plays, toys and books with, but I read most of brother's books. Some little girls came last winter to recite their lessons with me to mamma, and to play and exchange visits, and now two more have moved quite near. We have gay, good times playing. They are all near my age. I am 10. They are all going to school. I went a few days with them.

- November 15, 1896, The Dallas Morning News, p. 14, col. 1-7.
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