“Neither baseball nor fishing,” said the boy named Billy, “but it’s been lots of fun just the same. I’ve been helping the ladies over at the church put up the flags and bunting for decorations and to fix up the pulpit with palms and potted plants; Bob White’s been helping, too; we’re the tallest boys in Sunday School. Tomorrow is Children’s Day, you know. What’s the meaning of Children’s Day and do they always have it? I don’t seem to remember anything about it before this year.” “That is because you are older now and able to help,” said Somebody. “It used to be the custom for each church to have Children’s Day at any time in the year that was most convenient for them, but back in 1883 the Presbyterian Church said, ‘This scattering Children’s Day all over the year is not right and must stop--let’s all get together and agree upon one particular day and keep that and celebrate it!’ And all the other Churches saw the sense of that so they agreed on June--the second Sunday in June, as being warm and sunny weather with flowers blooming and everyone able to get out.” “But where did the idea of Children’s Day come from?” asked the boy named Billy. “It probably grew out of that wonderful saying of Our Savior: ‘Suffer little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven,’” said Somebody. About Carrier Pigeons “Bob White’s carrier pigeon has lost its mate,” said the boy named Billy. “He won’t eat or take any notice of anything--just sits humped up making queer little sounds as if he were grieving. Do you suppose that he realizes what has happened to the little mate?” “Perhaps not, in so many words,” said Somebody, “but he misses her and realizes that things are different. It’s a well-known fact that carrier pigeons never replace a lost mate, which reminds me of a story I heard about pigeons, out in Washington State, which might interest you.” “Is it a _really-so story_?” asked Billy. “Yes indeed,” said Somebody, “a really, truly-so story. It was this way. There was a pigeon fancier in Seattle, who, during the great war, raised carriers for the government, and in order to train the young birds for use in the battle-fields, he used to take them on the engine of the Shasta Limited train, which is the fastest one going south out of Seattle, down as far as Centralia, a small town on the line, where no stop is made by the limited, and then to liberate them and let them make their way back home. “One particularly beautiful and promising pair of black and white birds had been in training for some time in this way, when, in returning to the loft the little lady bird was lost.” “Some spy had shot her very likely,” said Billy.