[Illustration: YOUR BOY, IF HE IS THE RIGHT KIND OF A BOY, HAS WORK
TO DO THROUGH A LONG LIFE NOTHING WILL HAPPEN TO HIM "A MAN IS
IMMORTAL TILL HIS WORK IS DONE" THERE ARE EXCEPTIONS TO THIS RULE, AS
TO ALL OTHERS, BUT THIS IS STILL THE RULE]


THE WHISTLING MOTHER

BY

GRACE S. RICHMOND


[Illustration: musical notation.]

I have the greatest mother on earth. I can't call her a "little
mother," for she's five feet six inches tall, and weighs just exactly
what she ought to according to the table of weights. If she were a
trifle less active she might put on too much flesh, but she'll never
keep still long enough for that. I always enjoy having her along on
any kind of an outing, for she's game for just anything, and awfully
good company, too. In fact, she seems more like a vigorous girl than
anything I can compare her with. And I think her sons are mighty lucky
chaps--especially just now that the war game's on.

Yes, that's a picture of Mother; neat little holder for it, isn't it?
Yes, I know; she does look interesting, doesn't she? She's an awfully
good shot, and drives her own car, and rides like a Cossack, and does
a lot of other things--not to mention making home--well--what it is. I
suppose I'm rather braggy about her, but I tell you I feel that way