Some people have such remarkable ideas connected with the bringing up of children. There's Rossiter's young wife for example. [Illustration] I was invited to an evening dinner party recently where she was the guest of honor. This charming young matron is the proud mother of two fine boys, both under four years of age. In their education she endeavors to follow a system, like many other young mothers, and she is very careful to live up to any rules she may have formulated for them. During an early course in the dinner, and in the middle of an animated conversation with her host, she suddenly ceased talking. Her face took on a most startling expression. Then finding her voice, she exclaimed: "Mercy, I have forgotten those boys again! May I use your telephone?" She was taken to the 'phone by the host, and the murmur of her voice in most earnest conversation was wafted back to the dining room. After a short time she returned. "I beg a thousand pardons," she said, "but you must know I have always insisted that Sam and Dick say their prayers for me before they go to sleep. "In the hurry of getting off to-night I entirely forgot my usual duty. "So I called up the nurse. She brought them to the 'phone and they said their prayers over the wire. I feel quite relieved." Speaking of boys reminds me of my friend Toddlekins' young hopeful, who marched into the library the other day when I was engaging his pa in a scientific discussion. I may remark just here that Tommy had a new gun under his arm, which I understood his fond parent had recently presented to him--you know Toddlekins is a great admirer of the strenuous life and likes to encourage it all he can in his offspring, who appears to be a chip of the old block. [Illustration] "Say, pa," was what he exploded, "is it true that cats have nine lives?" Always ready to impart information to the inquiring mind of youth, his fond parent replied such was the common saying, which might be accepted as truth. "Well, I am glad of that," said the boy, heaving a genuine sigh of relief, "because then our old tortoise-shell's got eight coming to her." I'm afraid my smallest chap is going to take after his proud father--it's about time, since I've taken after him on many an occasion. For instance now, at school, in the course of his astronomy lesson, the teacher happened to ask: "What supports the sun in the heavens?" "Why, its beams, of course," was the prompt answer given by the flower of the family. He was not encouraged to exercise the propensity further. But it is not always the boys who can be depended on to furnish material for a good story. I knew a little tot of a girl once, Helen they called her, the pride and joy of a young couple with whom I used to dine occasionally in my happy bachelor days.