AND HIS AUNTIE SARA CONE BRYANT EPAMINONDAS AND HIS AUNTIE By Sara Cone Bryant Poor Epaminondas — he tried so hard to do the right thing, but he always took the wrong time to do it. When- ever Epaminondas went to visit his Auntie, she gave him something to take home, but he always carried it the wrong way. When the sun melted the butter Auntie gave him, Epaminondas's mother told him how to keep it cool. Then Auntie gave him a puppy, and what do you suppose Epaminondas did ? The wrong thing, you may be sure. And if you think Epaminondas ever changed, you must read this story. Lavishly illustrated in color by Inez Hogan < I EPAMINONDAS AND HIS AUNTIE 5ARA CONE BRYANT ^ He EPAMINONDA5 And HIS AUNTIE SARA CONEr BRYANT ILI/U5TRATEI> BY INEZHOGAN HOUGHTON MIFFLIN CO. BOSTON AND NErW YORK COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY SARA CONE BRYANT COPYRIGHT, I93S. BY SARA BRYANT BORST COPYRIGHT, 1938, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY HLL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN AKY FORM SIXTEENTH PRINTING R CAMBRIDGE ■ MASSACHUSEn-S PRINTED IN THB U.S.A. Epaminondas used to go to see his Auntie 'most every day, and she nearly always gave him some- thing to take home to his Mammy. One day she gave him a big piece of cake; nice, yellow, rich-gold cake. Epaminondas took it in his fist and held it all scrunched up tight, and came along home. By the time he got home there wasn't anything left but a fistful of crumbs. His Mammy said: 'What you got there, Epaminondas?' 'Cake, Mammy,' said Epaminondas. 'Cake!' said his Mammy. 'Epaminondas, you ain't got the sense you was born with! That's no way to carry cake. The way to carry cake is to wrap it all up nice in some leaves and put it in your hat, and put your hat on your head, and come along home. You hear me, Epaminondas?' 'Yes, Mammy,' said Epaminondas. Next day Epaminondas went to see his Auntie, and she gave him a pound of butter for his Mammy — fine, fresh, sweet butter. Epaminondas wrapped it up in leaves and put it in his hat, and put his hat on his head, and came along home. '^"•^mi II iiiL It was a very hot day. Pretty soon the butter began to melt. It melted, and melted, and as it melted it ran down Epaminondas' forehead; then it ran over his face, and in his ears, and down his neck. When he got home, all the butter Epaminon- das had was on him. His Mammy looked at him, and then she said: 'Law's sake! Epaminondas, what you got in your hat?' 'Butter, Mammy,' said Epaminondas; 'Auntie gave it to me.' 'Butter!' said his Mammy. 'Epaminondas, you ain't got the sense you was born with! Don't you know that's no way to carry butter? Mmmmmmmmmmmmm wttmrnHmnmnitn^ 'The way to carry butter is to wrap it up in some leaves and take it down to the brook, and cool it in the water, and cool it in the water, and cool it in the water, and then take it in your hands, care- ful, and bring it along home.' 'Yes, Mammy,' said Epaminondas. By and by, another day, Epaminondas went to see his Auntie again, and this time she gave him a little new puppy-dog to take home. Epaminondas put it in some leaves and took it down to the brook; and there he cooled it in the water, and cooled it in the water, and cooled it in the water; then he took it in his hands and came along home. When he got home, the puppy-dog W81S almost dead. His Mammy looked at it, and sh« said; lO 'Law's sake! Epaminondas, what you got there?' 'A puppy-dog, Mammy,' said Epaminondas. 'A puppy-dogT said his Mammy. 'My gracious sakes alive, Epaminondas, you ain't got the sense you was born with! That ain't the way to carry a puppy-dog! The way to carry a puppy-dog is to take a long piece of string and tie one end of it around the puppy-dog's neck and put the puppy- dog on the ground, and take hold of the other end of the string and come along home.' "*«»«Mi«.. II 'All right, Mammy,' said Epaminondas. 12 Next day, Epaminondas went to see his Auntie again, and when he came to go home she gave him a loaf of bread to carry to his Mammy; a brown, fresh, crusty loaf of bread. So Epaminondas tied a string around the end of the loaf and took hold of the end of the string and came along home. When he got home his Mammy looked at the thing on the end of the string, and she said: 'My laws a-massy! Epaminondas, what you got on the end of that string?' 'Bread, Mammy,' said Epaminondas; 'Auntie gave it to me.' 'Bread!!!' said his Mammy. '0 Epaminondas, Epaminondas, you ain't got the sense you was born with; you never did have the sense you was born with, you never will have the sense you was born with! Now I ain't gwine tell you any more ways to bring truck home. 14 'And don't you go see your Auntie, neither. I'll go see her my own self. But I'll just tell you one thing, Epaminondas! You see these here six mince pies I done make? You see how I done set 'em on the doorstep to cool? Well, now, you hear me, Epaminondas, you he careful how you step on those piesf 'Yes, Mammy,' said Epaminondas. Then Epaminondas' Mammy put on her bonnet and her shawl and took a basket in her hand and went away to see Auntie. The six mince pies sat cooling in a row on the doorstep. t5 And then — and then — Epaminondas was care- ful how he stepped on those pies! He stepped — right — in — the — middle — of — every — one. i6 r^^ TtBo Favorite Books By Sara Cone Bryant HOW TO TELL STORIES TO CHILDREN STORIES TO TELL TO CHILDREN These two popular books were published in smaller form a number of years ago. They are now brought out in a very attrac- tive manner, with colored jackets. The former book contains five chapters on choice of stories, preparation for telling, and method of teUing. There are thirty-two model stories to tell. The latter volume includes fifty model stories to tell, with suggestions as to choice and method, and a chapter on Spoken Eng- Ush.