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THE

GAMMANS POETRY

COLLECTION

In Memory of

GEORGE H. GAMMANS, II

Class of 1940

First Lieutenant Army Air Corps

Distinguished Service Cross

Missing in Action January 15, 1943

THE UNIVERSITY OF
NORTH CAROLINA LIBRARY

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This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS
ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE
CENTS a day thereafter. It is DUE on the
DAY indicated below:

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2012 with funding from

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

http://archive.org/details/nurseryserialmonOOseav

•\

THE

NURSERY

A Monthly Magazine

For Youngest Readers.

VOLUME XXI.

BOSTON :
JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET,

1877.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by

JOHN L. SHOREY,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

FRANKLIN PRESS:

RAND, AVERY, AND COMPANY.

I17 FRANKLIN STREET,

BOSTON.

I IN" PBOSE.

Work and Play i

Billy and Tom 5

The Wise Hare and her Pursuers . 6

Gentle Jessie and the Wasp ... 8

Friends in Need io

The Bear that put on Airs .... 14

Drawing-Lesson 17

What you do, do well 20

In the Winter 23

A Letter to Minnie 26

The Hedgehog 27

The Little Scissors-Grinder .... 30

" Christmas Presents made here " . 33

My Dog Jack 37

Bertie's Steamer 40

A Story about Squirrels 41

What a Little Boy in England says . 42

First Lesson in Astronomy .... 46

Papa's Birthday Present 47

Drawing-Lesson 49

The Rescue 50

The Young Sheep-Owner .... 52

Emma's Choice 55

Help one another 57

Billy and the Pig 61

Jocko, the Raven 62

An Old-Time Scene 65

Nelly's First Lesson in Dancing . . 69

Old Jim 71

Second Lesson in Astronomy
How a Rat was once Caught

To Sea in a Tub

Drawing-Lesson

PAGE

• 73

• 74
. 76
. 81

A Woodchuck Hunt 82

The Schoolmistress 85

Peter and Polly 88

Tommy and the Blacksmith .... 89

In the Country 91

Dodger 93

The Mother-Hen 94

" Why did Elfrida go to Sleep ? " . . 97

The Prairie-Dog 100

Strut 101

Third Lesson in Astronomy .... 103

The Robbery 104

The Little Recruit 107

One good turn deserves another . .109

A Letter from Texas no

Drawing-Lesson 113

A Story of a Seal 114

Fun in Winter 117

Old Whitey 118

Why do they all Love Freddy ? . . 122

My Rabbits 125

The Council of Buzzards 127

The Young Lamplighter 129

Fourth Lesson in Astronomy . . .131

The Poor Blind Woman 133

1) $ v-q

CONTENTS.

" Good-morning, Sir ! "

Playing April-Fool

The Eider-Duck .

The Trial-Trip .

Swaddling-Clothes

Drawing-Lesson .

Fanny and Louise

True Story of a Bird

A Rough Sketch .

Peter's Pets . .

The Strolling Bear

The Parrot and the Sparrow

PAGE

I36
138

139
141
142

145
146
149
ISI
153
154
156

PAGE

Arthur's New Sloop 161

A True Story 164

Playing Soldier 167

Madie's Visit at Grandma's .... 168

What I overheard 170

The Encounter 173

Jamie's Letter to a Little Uncle . .174

The Disappointed Kitty 175

The Mare and her Colt 177

The Fisherman's Return 180

More about Crickets 183

Fifth Lesson in Astronomy .... 185

I IN" "VIEIE^SIEi.

PAGE

Bumble-Bee 4

Gretchen 9

A Noonday Lullaby 12

A Squeak 18

My Little Sister 25

Little Black Monkey 29

The Old Year and New (with music) 32

The Petition of the Sparrows ... 35

Ensign Johnny 39

The Froggies' Party 45

The Faithless Friend 59

Chipperee Chip {with mttsic) ... 64

Tom-Tit 68

A Lenten-Song 79

A Mew from Pussy 86

Down on the Sandy Beach .... 90

Song of the Cat {with music) ... 96

PAGE

The Caterpillars 102

Puss and her Three Kittens . . . .106

Fred and Ned 120

How the Morning comes 124

A Mother Goose Melody {with music) 128
" Popping Corn " ....... 132

The Cooper's Song 135

Polliwogs 143

The Toad 148

That Fox 158

Grasshopper Green {with music) . .160

Tot's Turnover 163

The Kingfisher 166

Bye-Lo-Land 171

Kissing a Sunbeam 179

The Puppy and the Wasp .... 1S2
June 187

WORK AND PLAY.

VOL. XXI. — SO. 1.

WORK AND PLAY.

k,0 you want your sidewalk shovelled ? " This
was the question asked of Mr. Prim, as he
sat reading his newspaper, one New Year's
morning. The question came through a ser-
vant who had just answered the door-bell.
Mr. Prim looked out of the window. The snow was still
falling. So he sent out word, " No shovelling wanted till
the storm's over," and went on with his reading.

By and by there was another ring at the door; and in
a moment the servant-girl came in, saying, " The snow-
shovellers are here again, sir, and they want to see you."

Mr. Prim stepped out into the entry, where he found two
rough-looking boys, both of whom greeted him at once
with, " Wish you a happy new year ! Please, sir, it's done
snowing now."

"That means," said Mr. Prim, "that you both want the
job of clearing off the sidewalk ; but which am I to give
it to ? "

"Oh, sir!" said the bigger boy, "we are partners. I
shovel, and Mike sweeps."

"And what are your names? "

" Mine is Tom Murphy, and his is Mike Flynn."

" Then," said Mr. Prim, " the firm is ' Murphy & Flynn.' "

" That's it," said both boys with a grin.

" Well, Murphy & Flynn, I will employ you to do my
shovelling to-day, and I will give you fifty cents for the
job ; but I am very particular. You must not leave a bit
of snow anywhere about the steps or sidewalk."

" All right, sir," said the boys ; and they went to work,
while Mr. Prim went back to his newspaper. He had not
been reading many minutes, when a loud shout in front of

WORK AND PLAY.

the house led him to look out of the window. The picture
shows what he saw.

There were the two boys, each mounted on one of the
stone lions at the head of the steps, and shouting at the top
of his lungs in the excitement of an imaginary race.

Mr. Prim was first astonished, then angry, then amused,
at this performance. He opened the window, and called out
sharply, " Look here, boys ! do you call that work, or play ? "

The boys jumped down, and began to ply their broom and
shovel with great vigor. But Murphy looked up roguishly,
and said, " We were just polishing off the lions, sir."

" Yes," said Mr. Prim, " and a paroxysm of fun got the
better of you. Well, it's excusable on New Year's Day.
But, if the firm of Murphy & Flynn expect to succeed in
business, they must not mix so much play with their work."
And Mr. Prim shut the window.

" I say, Mike," said Tom, " what was it the old man said
had got the better of us ? "

' 'That's more than I can tell," said Mike. " I can't
remember such hard words. But 1 know what he meant,
and I guess he was about right."

Uncle Sam.

BUMBLE-BEE.

Bumble-Bee superbly dressed,
In velvet, jet, and gold,

Sailed along in eager quest,
And hummed a ballad bold.

Morning- Glory clinging tight
To friendly spires of grass,

Blushing in the early light,
Looked out to see him pass.

Nectar pure as crystal lay

In her ruby cup ;
Bee was very glad to stay,

Just to drink it up.

"Fairest of the flowers," said he,
" 'Twas a precious boon ;

May you still a Glory be,
Morning, night, and noon ! "

M. A. C.

BILLY AND TOM.

When I was a little boy, six or seven years old, my father
had two white horses, named Billy and Tom. Billy had one
black foot, and a little dark spot on his face ; but Tom did
not have a black hair on his whole body.

Billy was the old family horse, kind, gentle, and loving.
Anybody could catch him, or lead him, or drive him. He
liked to be petted, and in return seemed to take pride in
being kind to all in the family.

Tom was a good horse too ; but we had not owned him so
long, and he did not care much to have any one pet him.

Billy was a little lame ; and though he worked everywhere
on the farm, and in drawing loads on the road, yet he was
generally excused from going with the carriage, except
when it was necessary for some of us children to drive.

One day my father went to the village with Tom, leaving

(3 THE WISE HARE AND HER PURSUERS.

Billy at home alone, in a field near the house. lie missed
his old friend Tom. They had worked together so much,
that they had become great friends; and either one was very
lonesome without the other.

Billy ran about here and there, neighing loudly when-
ever another horse appeared in sight upon the road, hoping
that it might be his friend Tom coming back.

At last I went out to comfort him. I patted his head and
his neck, and leading him by the mane to the fence, climbed
first upon the fence, and then upon his back.

He seemed pleased, and started in a gentle walk along
the farm-road leading down into the field, away from the
house. When he had gone as far as I wished to ride, I
called out, " Whoa! "

But he was a wise old horse. Instead of stopping in the
middle of the road, where he then was, he turned out at
one side, and stopped close by the fence, for me to get off
upon that ; as much as to say, " A boy that is not large
enough to get upon my back without climbing a fence, is
not large enough to climb from my back to the ground."

Edith's Papa.

THE WISE HARE AND HER PURSUERS.

A poor little hare was one day closely pursued by a brace
of greyhounds. They were quite near her, when, seeing a
gate, she ran for it. She got through it easily ; but the
bars were too close together for the hounds to e;et through,
so they had to leap over the gate.

As they did so, the hare, seeing that they would be upon
her the next instant, turned around and ran again under
the gate where she had just before passed. The hounds, in

THE WISE HARE AND HER PURSUERS.

their speed, could not turn at once. Their headway took
them on some distance ; and then they had to wheel about,
and leap once more over the upper bar of the gate.

Again the hare doubled, and returned by the way she had
come ; and thus she went backward and forward, the dogs
following till they were fairly tired out, while the little hare,
watching her chance, happily made her escape.

8 GENTLE JESSIE AND THE WASP.

Thus you see that wit and self-possession are sometimes
more than a match for superior strength and speed. If the
little hare could not run so fast as the greyhounds, she
could outwit them, and they saw no way to prevent it.

Uncle Charles

f^*4fe.

GENTLE JESSIE AND THE WASP.

There is a little girl in our village whom we call " Gentle
Jessie;" for she is so kind and gentle, that even the dumb
animals and the insects seem to find it out, and to trust her.

On a dry pleasant day, last autumn, I saw her seated on
the grass. I went up to tell her not to sit there ; for it is
not safe to sit on the ground, even in dry weather.
. As I drew near to Jessie from behind, I heard her talking.
To whom could she be talking ? There was no one by her
side ; that is to say, no human being. But soon I found she
was talking to a wasp that was coming as if to sting her.

" Wasp, wasp, go away, and come again another day,"
said she. But the wasp did not heed her. It flew quite
near to her face. Instead of striking at the bold insect, she
merely drew back a little out of its way ; for she thought,
" Surely the wasp will not harm me, if I do not harm it."

GRETCHEN.

And she was right. It alighted near her for a moment,
but did not sting her; and gentle Jessie did not try to harm
it. Then the wasp flew to the flowers on her hat ; but, not
finding the food it wanted, at last it flew away.

" Well done, Jessie," said I, lifting her from the ground.
and giving her a kiss. EaiILY CAKTn,

GRETCHEN.

G'retchen's old ; she's neat and good
See her coming from the wood !
She bears fagots on her back,
Lest her darlings fire may lack.

FRIENDS IN NEED.

Here you see her far from town,
With her darlings sitting down :
Gretchen, Emma, Fritz, and Paul,
They are happy, happy all.

M. A. C.

FRIENDS IN NEED.

Once a poor crippled sparrow fell to the ground, and
fluttered about in a vain attempt to regain a place of safety.
Some of its mates gathered around it, and seemed eager

FRIENDS IN NEED.

to help it ; but they did not know what to do. Their chirp-
ing drew together a good many of the sparrow tribe.

One thought this thing ought to be done, and another
thought that. Some tried to lift the helpless bird by catch-
ing its wings in their beaks ; but this failed, and such a
chattering and scolding as took place !

"I told you that wasn't the way to do it." — "How
stupid I " — " You should have taken my advice." Per-
haps such were the speeches which were uttered in bird-
language ; for all the little creature seemed much excited.

Presently two of the birds flew away, but soon came back
with a twig six or seven inches long and an eighth of an
inch thick. This was dropped before the poor little cripple,
and at each end was picked up by a sparrow, and held so
that the lame bird was able to catch the middle of the twig-
in its beak.

Then the crippled bird, with the aid of the other two.
flew off, till they came to the wall covered with ivy, where
it had its home. There it chirped to show how glad it was.
All the other sparrows followed, as if to share in the
pleasure of the rescue. This is a true story.

Ida Fa?.

A NOONDAY LULLABY.

" Tic, tac ! Tic, tac ! "
£j Says the clock on the wall :
\ " Sleep now, my darling, for 'tis
time, 'tis time;
Soon I will wake you with my
merry chime, —
Tic, tac ! Tic, tac ! "

" Purr-r-r ! Purr-r-r ! "
Tabby sings on the sill :
" Shut your eyes, deary, and sleep

in a trice,
Then I will stay here, and scare
off the mice, —
urr-r-r !

Coo-oo ! "
on the roof :
, pet, while I strut

and coo,

own pretty nestlings

Coo-oo ! "

f\ , <&?■ _:

-:<<'*

A NOONDAY LULLABY.

" Cut, cut, ca-dah-cut ! "
Cackles kind biddy-hen :
" Listen, my little one : if you'll

not weep,
I'll lay an egg for you while you
are asleep, —
Cut, cut, ca-dah-cut ! "

11 Moo-oo ! Moo-oo ! "
Says the good moolly-cow :
Sleep, my wee man, and I'll

make it fair,
For I'll give you milk from
bossy's own share, —
Moo-oo ! Moo-oo ! "

" Hum, hum ! Buz, buz !
Drones the bee on the wing :
" Fret not, my baby, but croon

in your bed,
I'll bring you honey to eat on
your bread, —
Hum, hum ! Buz, buz ! "

#^^6^

14 THE BEAR THAT PUT ON AIRS.

"Hush-sh-sh! Hush-sh-sh ! "
Whisper leaves on the tree:
" As through our shadow soft sunlight streams,
See how the angels send smiles in his dreams !

Hush-sh-sh ! Hush-sh-sh ! "

M. A. C.

o&ic

THE BEAR THAT PUT ON AIRS.

There was once a bear that had been tamed and made to
dance by a man who beat him when he did not mind. This
bear was called Dandy, and he had been taught many queer
tricks. He could shoulder a pole as if it were a gun, and
could balance it on his nose, or stand on his hind-legs
and hold it by his fore-paws behind his back.

He did all these things at his master's bidding because he
stood in great fear of his master's whip. His master made

TUB BBAB THAT BUT ON AIBS.

a show of him ; and, though Dandy did not like it, he was
forced to submit.

But one day, when he had been left alone, the chain, that
held him by a ring in his nose, got loose from the ring ; and
Dandy was soon a free bear. Taking his pole, he made his
way, as fast as he could, to a mountain where the woods
were hio-h and thick.

Here he found a number of fellow-bears. Instead of
treating them as equals, he put on fine airs, told them what
a rare life he had led among men, how many nice tricks he
had learned, and how much wiser he was than all the bears
that had ever lived.

For a time the other bears were simple enough to take
him at his word. They thought, because he said so, that he

16 THE BEAR THAT PUT ON AIRS.

must be a very great bear indeed. He never was at a loss
when they asked him a question, never would confess his
ignorance, and so had to say much that was not true.

Dandy boasted so of the respect which men had paid him,
that he made the other bears think he was doing: them a
great honor by living with them. He made them all wait
on him. But at last a young bear, that had escaped from a
trap which some men had set for him, said to Dandy, " Is
that ring in your nose for ornament or for use ? "

" For ornament, of course," said Dandy. " This ring was
a gift from a man who was once my partner. He was so
fond of me, and so pleased with my dancing, that he never
tired of serving me. He brought me all my food. In fact
I had him at my beck and call."

" My friends," said the young bear, "he tells a fib. That
ring was put in his nose to be fastened to a chain. He was
held a slave by the man who, he says, treated him so finely.
He was made to dance through fear of being touched
up with a red-hot iron. In short, he is what men call a
' humbug.'

" Yes, he is a humbug," cried the others, though they
did not know what the word meant. " We will have no
more of his fine airs." — "I never liked him." — "Drive
him off." — " Send him back to his dancing-master ! " —
" Kick him ! " — " Stone him ! " — « Beat him ! " — " We'll
have no humbug here."

And so poor Dandy was driven out from the woods, and
forced to get his living by himself ; while the knowing
young bear that had exposed him, looked on and laughed
at his misfortune. If Dandy had not been so boastful ; if he
had spoken the truth, and been modest, — he might have
been respected by his fellow-bears to the end of his days.

Alfked Selwyx.

DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.

VOL. XXI. -NO. 1.

A SQUEAK!

I'm only a little brown mouse
That lives in somebody's house,
And in that same house there's a cat ;
But oh, ho ! what care I for that ?
She sits in the sunshine,

And licks her white paws,
With one eye on me,

And one on her claws.
How she watches the crack
Where she sees my brown back !
But she'll never catch me !
For oh, ho ! don't you see
That I'm just the smartest young mouse
That lives anywhere in the house ?

I'm only a little brown mouse
That lives in somebody's house,
And in that same house there is Rover :
He has chased me the whole house over.
And there, too, is fat Baby Tim ;
But oh, ho ! what care I for him ?
When he sprawls on the carpet,

And bumps his pink nose,
I scamper around him,
And tickle his toes.
How he kicks and he crows !
For he knows, oh, he knows,
That I'm only a little brown mouse
That lives in his grandmother's house.

A SQUEAK!

I'm only a little brown mouse
That lives in somebody's house ;
And in that same house there's a clock,
That says, " Tick-a-tock, tick-a-tock ! "

And I've not forgotten yet quite,
How once, on a very still night,
I was sitting just over the clock,
When it gave such a terrible knock,
With a whirring and whizzing,
And buzzing and fizzing.
That I tumbled headlong from my perch on the

shelf,
And, scampering wildly, I crowded myself
Right under the door, through such a small crack,
That I scraped all the hairs off the top of my back.

20 WHAT YOU DO, DO WELL.

Oh, I am the merriest mouse
That lives anywhere in a house !
I love toasted cheese, and I love crusts of bread,
And bits of old paper to make a soft bed.

Oh ! I tell you it's nice

To be one of the mice,

And when the night comes,

And the folks are abed,

To rattle and race

On the floor overhead.
And, say, don't you wish you could run up a wall
As I do, every day, without getting a fall ?
And don't you wish you were a mouse,
Living in somebody's house ?

Fleta F.

WHAT YOU DO, DO WELL.

" Why do you take such pains in cutting out these little
fio'ures? " asked Winifred of her brother Ernest.

" I will tell you why, sister," replied Ernest. " I take
pains because my teacher tells me, that, if a thing is worth
doing at all, it is worth doing well."

" Did he mean that wTe should try to do well even in
trifles?" asked Winifred.

" Yes," answered Ernest, " because, as a great man onco
said, ' Perfection is no trifle.' "

Winifred sat looking at her brother, as, handling a pair of
scissors, he carefully cut out figures of horses, dogs, pigs,
and various other animals.

Three years afterward she remembered this conversation ;

WHAT YOU DO, DO WELL.

for it happened at that time, that, her father having died,
her widowed mother was left almost destitute with a family
of seven children to support.

What should the poor woman do ? At first she thought
she would take in washing, then that she would try to keep
a little shop. While she was hesitating, Mr. Mason, a brisk
old gentleman, came to the door, and asked, " Where is the
boy who cuts these figures and faces in profile ? "

One of his grandchildren had brought him home from
school some specimens of Ernest's skill ; and Mr. Mason saw
at once that they were the work of a gifted and pains-
taking artist.

" You must mean my little Ernest," said the mother.
" Poor little fellow ! He little dreams what is coming. I
shall soon have to take him away from school."

"Why so?" cried Mr. Mason. "Take him aw^ay from
school? You shall do no such a thin<»\ I'll not allow it."

WHAT YOU DO, DO WELL.

" We are destitute, sir, and I have no means of support,"
said the mother with a siffh.

"No means of support ! Nonsense! With a boy in the
house who can cut figures like that, do you say you have no
means of support ? " exclaimed Mr. Mason. " Good woman,
I will insure your boy good wages every week for the next
year, if you will let him come between school-hours, and
cut pictures under my direction."

The rest of my little story may soon be told. Ernest
became the staff and stay of his family. The little talent
he had cultivated so carefully and diligently was the means
of giving him not only an honest employment, but a liberal
support. He rose to distinction ; and his productions were
much sought after by all good judges of art.

Emily Caetek.

St. Catherine's Rock, South Wales.

IN THE WINTER.

There are some nice apples

in the cellar, and William is

going down with a
light to get a dish
full. He will pick
out some that are
as yellow as gold,
and some that are

as red as a rose.

This man is cutting" a hole

through the ice, so

that the cows may

drink. The stream

is all frozen over.

When the thick ice

is broken, they can

drink all they want. Walk up,

old Brindle, and help yourself.

IN THE WINTER.

Here are the fowls, and each

stands on one leg. The ground

is covered with
snow, and their
toes are very
cold. So they
all hold their

feet under their feathers, to

keep them warm.

The old gray cat comes in

the morning, and jumps up on

the children's bed. Then she

creeps towards

them, and rubs

her soft fur on

the little boy's

face, and wakes

him up. She would like to say,

"Good mornino*!' but she onlv

says, " Mew, mew!

w. o. c.

MY LITTLE SISTER.

Good folks who read " The Nursery," this is my little sister ;
The picture shows you truly how I caught her up, and kissed her
She is so sweet, so very sweet, that I am quite decided
If you could see her as she is you would do just as I did.

Brother Carlos.

A LETTER TO MINNIE.

The following is an exact copy of a letter found in little
Minnie's stocking last Christinas : —

Sitting Room, at Mamma's Desk.
My Dear little Minnie.

You must excuse my calling you by your pet name ; but you see I'm
so fond of all good children that I can't Master and Miss them, and
they're all Tommie, and Johnnie, and Fannie, and Minnie, to me.

Your stocking is so small that I can't put much of any thing into it :
but if that piano, with the nice white cloth on it, isn't for presents, then
I'm mistaken.

I shall put yours there, and I hope I sha'n't crock that tablecloth ; for
your mamma wouldn't like to find my sooty marks all over it. Though
I don't see how she could expect me to be clean when she has had a
soft-coal fire burning in her grate all the evening, and that does make
the chimney so black !

If you will look at the picture of me in your new book (they call me
St. Nicholas there), you'll see how fat I am ; and how do you suppose I
get down such a small place? I never could if I didn't love children so
much, and if I hadn't done it for so many hundred years. But I began,
you see, before I grew so fat ; and so now I know the easiest way to
do it.

I hope you'll have all you wanted this year ; but you all grow so fast,
and have so many wants from year to year, that I sometimes fear that I
sha'n't always be able to satisfy you. Still, as it's only the good little
children that I visit, I fancy they will be pleased, whatever I bring.

I must confess, though, that it isn't all guesswork. I know pretty
well what my little folks want. But if you knew the amount of listening
at doors and windows and registers, that I do to find out all these
wants, you'd be astonished.

And now, if I don't hurry off, you'll be waking up, and catch me here ;
besides, I've staid a deal longer than I ought, for I've lots to do before
daylight. But, seeing your mamma's desk and writing-materials so
handy, I really couldn't help sitting down to write you a letter.

Tell your brother Walter, that as I brought him presents ten years
before you came, he mustn't expect quite so many now ; for he can have
no idea how many little folks I have to provide for. And if my rein-

THE HEDGEHOG.

deers weren't the kindest, and strongest, and fleetest of creatures, we
never could get through the amount of work we have to do " the night
before Christmas."

Wishing you, and your brother, and papa, and mamma, a " Merry
Christmas," I remain, with a heart full of love, yours, Santa clais.

o*Kc

THE HEDGEHOG.

The hedgehog is a queer little animal with short limbs.
It feeds mostly on insects. It has its body covered with
sharp spines instead of hairs, and can roll itself up in a
ball, and thus show an array of prickles pointing in every
direction.

Slow of foot, this little creature cannot flee from danger ;
but in the sharp, hard, and tough prickles of its coat, it has
a safeguard better than the teeth and claws of the wild-
cat, or the fleetness of the hare.

The hedgehog has powerful muscles beneath the skin of

28 THE HEDGEHOG.

the back ; and by the aid of these, on the slightest alarm, it
rolls itself up so as to have its head and legs hidden in the
middle of the ball it thus makes of itself.

Our dog Snip saw a hedgehog, the other day, for the first
time. As soon as it saw him, the little creature seemed
to change from a live thing into a ball. Snip did not know
what to make of it. His curiosity was much excited. He
went up, and looked at it.

If the two could have spoken, I think this would have
been their talk : —

Snip. — " Of all the queer things 1 ever saw, you are the
queerest. What are you anyhow ? "

Hedgehog. — " Suppose you put out your paw, and try."

Snip. — "I don't like the look of those prickles."

Hedgehog. — " Don't be a coward, Snip ! Put your nose
down, and feel of my nice soft back."

Whether the cunning hedgehog really cheated him by
any such remarks as these, I cannot say. But Snip at last
mustered courage enough to put his nose down to the ball.
Rash Snip ! Up rose the bristles, and pricked him so that
he ran back to the house, howling and yelping as if he had
been shot.

Having put Snip to flight, the hedgehog quietly unrolled
itself, thrust out its queer little head with the long snout,
and crept along on its way rejoicing. As for Snip, I am
quite sure he will never put his nose to the back of a hedge-
hog again, as long as he lives. Charles selwvk.

«\?

»r

Little black monkey sat up in a tree ;
Little black monkey, he grinned at me ;
He put out his paw for a cocoanut,
And he dropped it down on my occiput.

The occiput is a part, you know,
Of the head which does on my shoulders grow;
And it's very unpleasant to have it hit,
Especially when there's no hair on it.

<■ I \M jjk '"i

MMM

"^v -y

kV\«

l«]

//*-

■fKT-

r $ ,

Vv-V

mi ■■"

30 THE LITTLE SCISSORS-GRINDER.

I took up my gun, and I said, " Now why,
Little black monkey, should you not die ?
I'll hit you soon in a vital part,
It may be your head, or it may be your heart."

I steadied the gun, and I aimed it true :
The trigger it snapped, and the bullet it flew ;
But just where it went to, I cannot tell,
For I never could see where that bullet fell.

Little black monkey still sat in the tree,
And placidly, wickedly, grinned at me :
I took up my gun, and walked away,
And postponed his death till another day.

Laura E. Richards.

oO^oo

THE LITTLE SCISSORS-GEINDER.

Willie is a three-year-old darling. This summer he
visited his aunt in the city, and was very much interested
in the curious sights and sounds which abound there.

A few days after his return home, when his mamma sat
on the piazza with some friends, Willie marched up the
gravel path with his little wheelbarrow on his back.

He stopped at the foot of the steps, set his burden down,
resting it upon the handles, so that it stood upright. Then
holding it with one hand, and rolling the wheel with the
other, he kept his foot rising and falling, just as if he were
at work with a genuine treadle. He looked very sober, and
said, " Please, madam, have you any scissors to sharpen ? "

The ladies handed him several pairs, which he ground in

THE LITTLE SCISSORS-GRINDER.

the best style, trying the edge with his finger, and at last
passing them to the owner with the request for ten cents.

Mamma gave him a bit of paper, which he put into his
pocket, returning the change in the form of two leaves.

When he had finished his task, he shouldered the wheel-
barrow, and was saying " Good-afternoon," when one of the
party ran after him, calling to him to kiss her.

" Scissors-grinders don't kiss," he said ; but the fun
sparkled in his bright black eye, and he burst into a hearty
laugh, which must have been a relief to the merry boy after
being sober so long. MKSi Gi

THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW.

Words by Marian Douglas. Music by T. Crampton.

u y Maestoso.

i*.

1. The north winds blow o'er drifts of snow, Out in the cold who

2. A knock, a knock ! 'tis twelve o'clock! This time of night, pray

good chil - dren be!"
good chil - dren be!"

CHRISTMAS PRESENTS MADE HERE."

VOL. XXI.— KO. 2.

CHRISTMAS PRESENTS MADE HERE."

BOUT a year ago, Edwin had a Christmas present
of a jig-saw. If Santa Claus brought it, then
Santa Clans did a good thing for himself ; for
last Christmas his pack was loaded down with
presents of Edwin's manufacture.

Nice little brackets to set up against the wall, nice little
bedsteads, book-shelves, toy-houses, frames for pictures,
card-baskets, — these are but a few of the great variety of
things that Edwin makes with his jig-saw.

Many little articles he gives away, for he is a generous
boy: but he wants books, and his mother cannot always
afford to buy him the books he wants ; for she has two
children, besides himself, to provide for.

So one day when Mr. Topliff, who keeps a great toy-shop,
said to Edwin, " I'll pay you well for as many of these toy-
houses as you can make," Edwin replied, " I'll go to work
just as soon as I have finished this bracket; for a little
money is just what I want."

Edwin had by practice learned to use his saw with great
skill, and he took pains always to do his work well. Grad-
ually he learned to do the finer sort of cabinet-work ; and
then he puzzled his wits to invent new varieties of toys,
and other things often sought for as Christmas presents.

Mr. Topliff said, " You can earn a living by this kind of
work, if you choose, Edwin." But no ! Edwin had made
up his mind to go to college; and so he replied, "If I can
pay my college expenses by working at odd hours, Mr.
Topliff, I mean to do it — and I think I can."

" So do I," said Mr. Topliff. " You've got the knack.
Well, my lad, don't forget the firm of Topliff & Co. Bring
us all your pretty things." UK0LB charts.

THE PETITION OF THE SPARROWS.

Now girls and boys of Chester Square,
Pray give us of your meals a share.
Just have the kindness to remember
That this is chilly, bleak December;
That snow has covered Ions; the ground
Till really nothing's to be found :
So throw us out a crumb or two,
And. as you would be done by, do.

In those snug little cottages
That you have placed among the trees,
We all were hatched, and so, vou see,
Are members of the family.

36 THE PETITION OF THE SPARROWS.

Hunger and frost are hard to bear :
So, girls and boys of Chester Square,
Just throw us out a crumb or two,
And, as you would be done by, do.

We know bad things of us are told :
They call us English upstarts bold ;
Say we drive off the snow-birds dear,
And fight the Yankee sparrows here;
That we make havoc in the spring
With all the sweet-pea's blossoming:
Still throw us out a crumb or two,
And, as you would be done by, do.

We're not as bad as they declare,

O girls and boys of Chester Square !

Be sure some little good we do,

Even though we pilfer buds a few.

Don't grudge them, since your trees we clear

Of vermin that would cost you dear :

So throw us out a crumb or two,

And, as you would be done by, do.

Dear girls and boys of Chester Square,
We, too, partake the Father's care ;
And to your kindly hearts he sends
The impulse that our race befriends :
We know that you, while Winter reigns,
For our relief will take some pains ;
Will throw us out a crumb or two,
And, as vou would be done by, do.

Ejiilt Carter.

MY DOG JACK.

I want to tell the readers of "The Nursery" about my
dog. My mamma bought him for me when he was very
young. He is a Newfoundland dog, and is very large. He
is black, with a white face and neck. His name is Jack.

38 MY DOG JACK.

Jack is very useful in keeping tramps out of our orchard,
and is also very kind and playful. I do uot like to play
with him ; for he is so rough, that he sometimes tumbles me
over, and hurts me : but I have a good time with him in
other ways.

He draws me about in a little cart into which I harness
him. He minds a pull on the reins, and will go just as 1
wish him to. But he will insist on chasing pigs whenever
he sees them. He does not like pigs.

One day, when I was harnessing him, he spied a pig,
and away he ran after it — cart and all. He broke one
wheel of the cart, and came back panting and wagging his
tail, as if he had clone something good ; but I scolded him
well.

Jack will sit on his hind-legs, and catch bits of bread or
cake in his mouth when I throw them to him. One summer,
we went to the seashore, and took him with us. He is a
splendid swimmer ; and when we took a stick, and threw it
into the water, he would plunge through the waves, and
bring it back in his mouth.

Sometimes an old fisherman took me out sailing, and as
there was not room in the boat for Jack, the scood old do£
would lie on the wharf and wait patiently till I came back.
When he saw the boat coming in, he would jump up and
bark in great delight ; and one day he leaped into the water,
and swam out to meet us.

Once my cousin and I were sitting in a cleft in the rocks,
gathering shells and pebbles, when a great black creature
jumped right over our heads. We were much frightened,
but soon found that it was only our good friend Jack. He
had seen us from the top of the rock, and had jumped down
full fifteen feet to get to us. PAUL Eatox.

ENSIGN JOHNNY.

This is Ensign Johnny :

See him armed for fight !
Mice are in the garret;

Forth he goes to smite.
Ready for the battle,

He is not afraid ;
For the cat, as captain,

Will be by to aid.

Now, good-by, my Johnny !

Soldiers must be brave :
While puss does the fighting,

You the flag can wave.
Do not, like a coward,

From the field retreat :
Forward, Ensign Johnny,

And the mice defeat !

Ida Fay.

BERTIE'S STEAMER.

Bertie has taken much pleasure in hearing me read about
the different ways in which the little "Nursery" people
amuse themselves. He is very anxious that they should, in
return, know about the steamboat which his uncle brought
him from the Centennial, — a real little steamboat.

It is nearly a foot long, made of brass, with a "truly"
boiler, as Bertie says, and a little alcohol lamp to convert
the water in the boiler into steam.

The older folks were as much interested in its trial trip as
Bertie. The biggest tub was brought up, and half filled
with water. The little boiler was also filled, and the lamp
lighted ; and we all waited patiently for the steam to start
the little wheel. A stick was put across the tub, and a
string fastened from its centre to the end of the steamer, to
keep it from running against the side of the tub. The
rudder was turned to guide the boat in a circle, and soon the
steamer started.

But it did not run easily. Could it be that it would prove
a failure ? Bertie's face began to put on a disappointed
look.

" Can't Uncle Nelson fix it ? " said he. " Uncle Nelson
can do most any thing."

So Uncle Nelson took the delicate machinery apart, and
found some particles of dirt, which prevented the piston from
working smoothly. Then he cleaned and oiled it, put it
together again, and once more it started. This time it was
a complete success. How Bertie clapped his hands, as the
steam hissed, and the boat went round and round, as if it
were alive !

It was half an hour before the water in the little boiler

gave OUt. Bertie's Mamma.

A STORY ABOUT SQUIRRELS.

Freddie is a bright lit-
tle boy six years old. He
goes with his papa and
mamma every summer to
stay a few months at a
nice place in the country.
In front of the house, near
the fence, stands a large
elm-tree, which is the home
of many little squirrels.

One day Freddie got his
papa to build him a small
shelf on the tree, about
four feet from the ground,
so that he could put nuts
on it to feed the squirrels.
At first the little fellows
were very shy, and would
not come near the shelf,
but sat on the branches of
the tree ; and we fancied
that we heard them say-
ing to each other, " Do
you think that little boy
would hurt us, if we should
run down, and take one of
those nuts ? "

But, after a wrhile, they
came down, one by one,
took the nuts, and went

42 WHAT A LITTLE BOY IN ENGLAND SAYS.

scampering up to the top branches ; and in a few minutes
down came the empty shells. They grew so tame before
the summer was over, that if we put any thing on their
shelf, and took a seat a few steps away, they would come
down quite boldly, and get their breakfast.

One day we put a small ear of sweet-corn on the shelf.
Pretty soon a little squirrel came after it ; but it was too
heavy for him : so he sat down on the shelf, as though quite
at home, ate off about half of the kernels of corn, to make
his burden lighter, and, after trying many times, finally got
it up to his hiding-place. Presently we saw all the squirrels
running to that part of the tree, and we thought he might
be having a squirrel-party in his best parlor.

There was a large pond not very far away ; and we often
saw the squirrels go from tree to tree, jump a fence here
and there, and run down behind a stone wall to the pond to
get a drink, and then run home again. If they had only
known as much as some squirrels we read about, what a
nice sail they might have had by jumping on a piece of
wood, and putting their bushy tails up in the air for a sail !
Wouldn't it look funny to see a squirrel yacht-race ?

As we sit in our warm rooms this cold weather, we often
wonc[er what the little fellows are doing, and if they are
eating any of the nuts they stored away last summer.

Freddie's Papa.

WHAT A LITTLE BOY IN ENGLAND SAYS.

My grandfather and grandmother live in the country.
Everybody in their house is very fond of birds, and very
thoughtful for the comfort of all dumb creatures.

Among the birds that flock about grandfather's house are

WHAT A LITTLE BOY IN ENGLAND SAYS. 43

the bright little tom-tits. They fly very quickly, and look
very pretty, darting in and out of a tall evergreen-tree that
grows in front of the dining-room window.

In winter, my Aunt Emily has a pole, about four feet
high, stuck in the ground near this tree. Across the top of
the pole, a light bamboo stick is fastened, not quite as long
as the pole is high. On strings tied at the ends of the
bamboo stick, netted bags, filled with fat or suet, are hung.

Now, tom-tits are, I think, the only birds in England that
can clingy to a thing with their heads hanging down ; and
they are very fond of fat. So they come to aunty's bags,

WHAT A LITTLE BOY IN ENGLAND HAYS.

cling to them as they sway to and fro in the wind, and eat
to their little hearts' content. We watch them from the
windows, and sec what is going on.

Sometimes other birds try very hard to get a share of the
feast, particularly when the weather is very cold, and they
cannot find much else. Then they will stand on the ground,
looking at the bags, and now and then make an awkward
spring at them, sometimes snatching a piece of suet, but
generally failing to reach it.

A tiny robin (an English robin is not at all like an
American one) has practised so much, this cold weather,
that he can not only get a taste of the suet by darting at it,
but, better still, will sit on the top of the bag, and get at
it in that way. But he seems very much afraid of falling
off, and I think the tom-tits would laugh at him : perhaps
they do, in bird fashion.

When they cling, they do not mind where it is, and often
seem to take the very bottom of the bag by choice, and
hang there, with their heads down, so long, that it seems as
though they would surely get the headache.

I have often seen two, and sometimes three birds on a
bag at a time.

Birmingham, England.

H. B.

oi<Kc

OFF IN A HURRY.

THE FEOGGIES' PARTY.

The frog who would a-wooing go

Gave a party, you must know ;

And his bride, dressed all in green,

Looked as fine as any queen.

Their reception numbered some

Of the best in Froggiedom.

Four gay froggies played the fiddle, —

Hands all round, and down the middle.

In the room were stern old croakers,
Yellow vests and snow-white chokers.
Froggie belles with rush-leaf fans,
Froggie beaux in green brogans,
Flirted in the bowers there,
Hidden from the ball-room's' glare.
Three old froggies tried a reel,
Twist 'em, turn 'em, toe and heel.

FIRST LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

One young miss was asked to sing ;
But she had a cold that spring.
Little frogs were sound asleep,
Late hours — bad for them to keep.
Each one wished the couple joy;
No bad boys came to annoy.
This next fall, — the news is spreading,
They will have their silver-wedding!

George Cooper.

0&<C

FIRST LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

" Twinkle, twinkle, little star :
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky ! "

I am going to tell all the wondering children iust what
that little star is, and I want them to go to the window this
minute, and take a good look at it.

Have you been ? And was it " up above the world so
high " ? Some of you are laughing at me, perhaps, because
it is broad daylight, when stars do not show themselves.

PAPA'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT. 47

But do not laugh yet. If the sun is out, you can certainly
see a star.

To be sure you cannot take a good look at it, it is so
bright; but there it is, — the star that gives us light and
heat, — the sun himself. Now, were you ever told before,
that the sun is a star, just like the little diamonds you see
in the sky before you go to bed ?

Why shouldn't it look like a star then ? Because it is not
" up above the world so high " as all the rest of the stars
are. It is near enough to us to keep us warm, and make
every thing grow.

But what is more wonderful than that our sun is a star, is,
that all the stars are suns. They keep the worlds that are
near them warm and bright, just as our sun does this world.
They are great globes of fire that never go out.

Some are red fire, some are blue, some yellow, and some
white, like ours. How should you like to have it all red, or
blue, or green, out doors, instead of white ? It would seem
a good deal like fireworks to us, I think.

Now look out of the window again, and try to pick out a
red star. I know one you can all see before you go to bed,
unless you are too sleepy to see any thing. It is nearly over-
head about supper-time. If you find it, write a little letter
to " The Nursery," and tell me. M. E. R.

:>>*:o

PAPA'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT.

Harry is a little boy six years old. He always wants to
be doing something ; and many funny pictures he makes,
both on his slate and with a lead pencil on paper. Mamma
saves all the blank pieces of paper she can to give him.

48 PAPA'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT.

When he is tired of pictures, he plays with his blocks,
and makes boats, and cars and bridges, and towers and
churches.

Harry lives on the west bank of the Mississippi River,
where there is a bridge right in sight from his home. He

O O CD

often watches the cars go across the bridge, and the boats
go through the draw. He is an observing little fellow,
and he notices that just before the cars get to the bridge
they stop, and then go over very slowly. Then they start
up faster and faster ; and soon the bridge is left behind, and
the cars are out of sight.

The cars always have to wait for the boats to go through
the bridge ; and Harry thinks that is too bad ; for the cars
would not keep the boats waiting half as long as the boats
keep them. So mamma tells him that the river was there
first, and the boats have the first right.

But about the present. There had been a week of rain ;
but papa's birthday was pleasant, and Harry was glad to
get out of doors. He ran till he was tired, and then, as he
sat down to rest, he thought he would get some clay, and
make something to show mamma.

So he bearan. First he made a round ball like a marble,
then a larger ball ; then he put them together, and thought,
"I will make a man, and this little ball shall be his head."
He put a stick in to hold the head to the body, and put clay
around the stick, and that made the neck. Then he made
a long piece for the legs, and cut out between them with a
knife to form two. Then he made the arms, and joined them
to the body.

He was very much pleased with his work so far ; but to
complete it was the most fun. He got little stones, and
stuck them into the clay for eyes, nose, and buttons ; made
a cut for the mouth ; and, for a head-dress, made use of the

DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.

VOL. XXI.— XO. 2.

50 THE RESCUE.

green spikes from a pine-tree. This made the figure look
so much like an Indian, that Harry danced with joy.

Then he took it to mamma, who was so pleased that she
told him to put it on papa's study-table to dry, and said that
it would do for papa's birthday present.

Papa thinks so much of it, that he has locked it up in
his curiosity cabinet. This is a true story.

Cousin Vida.

THE KESCUE.

Jane is a bright little girl, about six years old, who lives
not far from a wharf in a seaport town, where her father is
employed in a junk store. She has an elder sister named
Susan, a baby-brother named Charlie, and a doll named
Anna Maria.

One pleasant summer day Susan took the baby in her
arms, Jane took Anna Maria in her arms, and all together,
and all bareheaded, they took a stroll down the wharf. It
was not a safe place for young children ; and Susan ought to
have known better than to take them there.

They wandered about, enjoying the cool sea-air, and
pretty soon stood on the very edge of the wharf, looking
down into the water. Just then, by some accident (I don't
know exactly how it happened), Anna Maria slipped out of
Jane's arms, and fell overboard.

Well, this was not so bad as if Jane herself had fallen
over ; but it was almost as bad to poor Jane. She burst
into tears, and raised a cry of distress. There was her dear
little Anna Maria in the water, beyond her reach, and she
could do nothing to save her.

Now there happened to be a smart boy, named Tom

THE RESCUE.

Williams, not far off. He heard Jane's outcry, and came
running down the wharf to see what was the matter ; and
another bright boy, named Sam Brown, came with him.
The two saw what the trouble was in a moment.

They lay down on the wharf, and tried to reach Anna
Maria. But it was of no use. Their arms were not lonsr

52 THE YOUNG SHEEP-OWNER.

enough. Poor Jane's heart sank within her. She cried and
sobbed, and was in more distress than ever.

" Don't cry," said Tom. " Crying's of no use. Wait a
minute: I know how to do it." And off he ran into the old
junk shop. In a moment he came back, bringing a pair of
tongs. "Now I'll show you! " said he. Down he lay again,
with his bare feet sticking up, as you see in the picture,
reached over the side of the wharf, took Anna Maria in the
tongs, just as she was near floating under the wharf, and
placed her, all wet and dripping, in Jane's arms.

How happy the little girl was to get her darling safe back
again ! And how thankful she was to Tom, for coming to
the rescue so bravely ! Anna Maria soon got over the
effects of her bath : she did not even catch cold.

But I hope that both Jane and Susan will learn a lesson
from her mishap, and not go so near the edge of the wharf
another time. UxcLE SAM.

■>>*;c

THE YOUNG SHEEP-OWNER.

Several years ago, on the Island of Nantucket, lived a
little boy named Frank Simmons. His grandfather, with
whom he was a great favorite, owned about two hundred
sheep. Many other persons on the island owned sheep at
that time ; and there was a broad plain of open ground,
over which all the flocks roamed in common.

Every year, in the month of June, all the sheep were
driven into a large enclosure near a pond, in which they
were washed until their wool was white and clean. This
was the preparation for shearing, or taking off their heavy
coats of wool.

THE YOUNG SHEEP-OWNER.

Each separate flock was marked by a little cut made in
the ears. The ears of one flock, for instance, were clipped
at the ends ; of another, notched at the sides ; of another,
marked by a slit.

This last was the mark which Frank looked for when he
went with his grandfather to catch his sheep. Frank
thought it was cruel to cut the ears so ; but, when his grand-

father told him it was the only way by which each owner
could know his own sheep, he was satisfied.

Whenever he caught one, he would lead it along to his
grandfather's pen, where a man was waiting to take it on
his back, and carry it into the pond. After being washed,
the sheep were left to find their own way to the shore,
which they did very quickly.

It took two days to wash all the sheep on the island.
The washing was finished on Saturday. The sheep were

THE YOUNG SHEEP-OWNER.

allowed to rest and dry themselves on Sunday ; and on
Monday morning, bright and early, Frank was ready to
start with his grandfather to catch the sheep for the
shearing.

The shearing occupied two days more ; and, after their
heavy coats were off, the sheep would feel so smart, that
they would frisk about like young lambs; and some of them
would jump five or six feet up in the air.

During all this time, their poor little lambs had been kept
apart by themselves. They must have felt lonely enough
without their mothers ; but, as soon as the shearing was
over, all the sheep and lambs were set at liberty. Such
a bleating and baa-ing as there was ! The sheep ran round
for the lambs, and the lambs for their mothers ; and away
they skipped over the plains like children at play.

Frank had made himself so useful in catching the sheep,
that his grandfather gave him two sheep and two lambs as a
reward, and put a new mark on them for him. So Frank
became a young sheep-owner, and, the next year, had his
own sheep to catch.

Cautwright.

--■.■\t

EMMA'S CHOICE.

Three young children, Emma, Charles, and Arthur Pay-
son, had been left to the care of their old grandfather,
through the death of their parents.

Grandpa Payson was not rich : he was a day-laborer, and
had to work hard for the support of a family, which would

56 EMMA' S CHOICE.

have been large enough without the addition of three
hungry little ones.

But grandpa's heart was large enough to take them all
in ; and they proved such good and lovable children, that he
soon became very much attached to them.

Little Emma was his especial favorite ; and one December
day he said to her, " What shall I get you, darling, for a
Christmas present? A nice pair of shoes would be just the
thing, I'm thinking."

" Oh, no, grandpa! Give me a book — a book with
pictures in it : that will be better than new shoes. By
going barefoot, I can make my old shoes last me a year
longer."

Well, in the shop where Grandpa Payson bought a beauti-
ful bound copy of " The Nursery " for his darling, he hap-
pened to mention to the shopkeeper the fact that Emma
had preferred a new book to a new pair of shoes.

An old lady who stood near could not help hearing the
conversation. That evening, while Grandpa Payson, Emma,
and the two boys, were gathered around the table, feasting
their eyes on the new book, there was a knock at the door,
and a package was left, directed to " Miss Emma Payson."

" Dear me ! What can it be ? I never had a package
left for me before in all my life," cried Emma.

She opened the package, and there found several pairs of
shoes, and a note, telling her to select two pairs that would
fit her, and to send the rest to the shopkeeper.

In the note the old lady wrote : " You must not only fill
your head with knowledge, but keep your feet warm, if you
would preserve your health. If your brothers will go to
Mr. Lane's to-morrow, he will fit them both to new shoes,
a gift from me. A Merry Christmas and a Happy New
Year to you all ! " lDA Fav.

HELP ONE ANOTHER.

One day, passing through a
meadow, I saw a sheep much
troubled by flies. Presently I
saw it walk to a small pond
where there were some young

58 HELP ONE ANOTHER.

ducks, and stand there quietly.
Soon the ducks took notice of
the flies, and, coming out from
the water, began snapping them
up, as if to punish them for
worrying the poor sheep.

By and by a starling, from a
tree near by, flew down, lighted
on the sheep's back, and helped
in the good work of ridding her
of the flies.

This, thought I, is a clear
case of putting into practice
the golden rule of "Help one
another." Perhaps you will say,
that the ducks and the starling
wanted to make a meal of the
flies; but I like to think that
some less selfish motive was
mingled with their work.

Alfred Selwyn.

THE FAITHLESS FRIEND.

My little lamb, in early spring,
Was but a timid, weakly thing:
His old sheep-mother did not own him:
He would, no doubt, have soon been dead,
If I had not some pity shown him,
And seen that he was warmed and fed.
I was the only friend he knew,
And fond of him each day I grew ;
And, as I stroked his woolly head,

" Wherever you may be,
I know, my little lamb," I said,

" You will remember me."

But, when the fields grew green in May,
They sent my little pet away
To pasture, where the brooks were flowing
Through yellow beds of cowslip flowers,
Where purple violets were growing,
And scented blossoms fell in showers
From off the shading chestnut-trees,
And daisies nodded in the breeze :
And many mates my lambkin found,
As young and gay as he,
And all day long they frisked around
And gambolled full of glee.

60 THE FAITHLESS FRIEND.

But when the robin-redbreasts flew,
And loud and shrill the north-winds blew.
Back from the pastures hard and frozen,
Through winter in the barn to keep,
The little lamb that I had chosen
They brought with all the other sheep ;
And, oh ! how glad my face to see,
I thought, my pretty pet will be !
But when to meet him I went out,
And tried to coax and call,
He drew away, and turned about,
And would not come at all.

With his white fleece and playful ways,
My lamb now all about me praise ;
But dearer far to me the sickly,
Poor, shivering thing he used to be ;
When to my call he came so quickly
I thought that he was fond of me !
But if I pet him now, I know
He'll take my gifts, and off he'll go ;
For I, to my regret, have found
I can no more depend
On one who will go frisking round,
And quite forget a friend.

Marian Douglas.

BILLY AND THE PIG.

Here is another story about my father's wise old horse,
Billy.

One clay, when my father wished to go away to the mill,
he sent my brother Robert clown to the pasture to catch
Billy. Robert brought the horse up to the house, tied him
to the fence in the backyard, and gave him some oats in a
pail.

In a pen back of the house we kept three pigs : two of
them were white ; and the other was spotted, — black and
white. These pigs had got out of the pen by pushing off
a board from one side of it.

Soon after Billy began to eat his dinner, the two white
pigs came running through the yard. They saw Billy
eating his oats ; and, thinking it would be nice for them to
have some as well as he, they ran up to his pail, and with-

62 JOCKO, THE RAVEN.

out as much as saying, " By your leave," began to help
themselves.

Billy had no idea of sharing his dinner with such company
as this : so he lopped back his ears, looked as cross as he
possibly could, snapped at the pigs fiercely with his teeth,
raised his hind-feet from the ground, as if to kick them, and
at last succeeded in frightening them away.

Scarcely had they left the yard, however, before the
spotted pig got his eye upon the pail of oats ; and he at
once ran for it with all his might.

Billy tried to scare him as he had the others ; but Spotty
was not so easily frightened. He took no notice of any
thing but the oats.

Finding that threats were of no use, Billy seized him by
the back of the neck, raised him about two feet from the
ground, shook him a little, and then let him drop.

Spotty was satisfied. He lost his appetite for oats, and
ran squealing out of the yard. Edith's papa.

3Oj*=l0

JOCKO, THE RAVEN.

The raven is a sly bird, and has not many friends. He
will steal from you, if he can. He can crow like a cock,
mew like a cat, and bark like a dog ; and sometimes he will
imitate the sound of the rattle with which the farmer tries
to frighten him away from the com.

The raven, like the parrot, can learn to talk a little. He
is even capable of learning a little Latin. Dr. J. Franklin's
raven, which was named Jocko, pronounced the word aqua
(water) distinctly ; but he much preferred wine to water.
Sad to say, Jocko was a toper.

JOCKO, THE RAVEN.

" One day," says the doctor, " my housekeeper placed
a glass of red wine on the table : in an instant the bird
plunged in his beak, and began sucking up the wine, drop
by drop. The housekeeper, fearing he would break the
glass, took it away ; but at this Jocko was very angry, and
tried to peck at her face.

" If three glasses are placed on the table, — one of water,
another of beer, and the third of wine, — Jocko will leave
the first two, and will pay his respects only to the glass of
wine."

The raven has a strong memory, great prudence, and
some capacity for reasoning. The keen watchfulness with
which he will regard a man armed with a gun has often
been noticed.

A traveller in the arctic res-ions relates that he once saw
some ravens outwit a dou;. While the dog; was at his dinner,
they would make him angry, and entice him away in pur-
suit of them ; and, when they had led him some distance,
they would fly quickly back, and snatch up the best bones,
before he could prevent it.

That was hardly honest, was it ? The raven, you see,
does not set a good example. He drinks wine, he fights,
and he steals. But I suppose he knows no better, and has
not been taught, like you and me, that to do such things is
very wrong.

Alfred Selwyn.

Words by G. COOPBK.

Allegretto, mf

CHIPPEREE, CHIP.

Music by T. Oeampton.

o_,_c# — * — #_, — * — #:x# * — 0 up ..2. m_'_ r_#_ ~ _# r_i

— r

I once knew a couple that liv'd in a wood, — Chipperee, chipperee, chip!

2. When winter came on with its frost and its snow, Chipperee, chipperee,

3. Their parlor was lined with the softest of wool,— Chipperee, chipperee,

And
chip! They
chip ! Their

I \ 7 '^*

up in a tree - top their dwelling it stood,— Chip-per-ee, chip-per-ee, chip!

cared not a bit when they heard the wind blow, — Chip-per-ee, chip-per-ee, chip!

kitch - en was warm and their pan - try was full, — Chip- per ee, chip-per-ee, chip:

9:^r

* * — •±wzr-* — * — 0:

7>s

-N — S — K — S — S

±:

The summer it came and the summer it went, — Chipperee, chipperee, chip! And
For wrapp'd in their feathers they lay down to sleep, — Chipperee, chipperee, chip ! But
And four little babiespeep'd out at the sky, — Chipperee, chipperee, chip! You

Si — S 1 — S — r3 h-5 N N, Sr ', — .~ — ]i

there they lived on though they never paid rent, — Chipper-ee, chip-per - ee, chip !
oh, in thespring.how their bright eyes did peep, — Chipperee, chip-per - ee, chip!
nev - er saw dar - lings so pretty and shy,— Chipperee, chip-per-ee, chip!

5Tzi

331 E

VOL. XXI. — so. 3

AN OLD-TIME SCENE.

OOK at the picture, and see if you can tell what

has roused all those children up so early in the

morning. There is Mary in her stocking-feet.

;il"l^ There is Ann in her night-dress. There is

Tom, bare armed and bare legcred.

Why have they all left their beds, and run into the play-
room in such haste? And. why is little Ned, the baby,
sitting up in the bed, as though he wanted to come too ?

It is plain enough that the children use that room for a
play-room ; for you can see playthings on the mantle-piece.
But why are they all flocking about the fireplace ? And
why is mamma coming upstairs with a dust-brush in her
hand ? And why is that cloth hung over the fireplace ?
And whose are those bare feet peeping from under it ?

" Oh ! " perhaps you will say, " it is Santa Clans; and the
children are trying to catch him." Oh, no ! Santa Clans
never allows himself to be caught in that way. You never
see even his feet. He never leaves his shoes on the floor,
nor dirty old brushes, nor shovels. It is not Santa Clans —
it is only a chimney-sweeper.

" But what is a chimney-sweeper ? " I think I hear you
ask. Well, we do not have such chimney-sweepers now-
a-days, at least not in this part of the world. But ask
vour grandfathers and grandmothers to tell you about the
chimney-sweepers that were to be seen in Boston forty or
fifty years ago, and I warrant that many of them will
remember just such a scene as you see in the picture.

In those days, before hard coal fires had come in use,
chimney-swTeepers wrere often employed. They wrere small
boys, wrorking under the orders of a master in the business.
who was very often a hard master. Generally they were

AN OLD-TIME SCENE.

negroes ; but, whether so or not, they soon became so black
with soot, that you could not tell them from negroes.

The chimney-sweepers always came early in the morning,
before the fires were lighted ; and their coming was a great
event to the children of a household. " When a child,"
says a famous English writer, speaking of the chimney-
sweepers of London, " what a mysterious pleasure it was to
witness their operation ! — to see a chit no bigger than one's
self enter into that dark hole — to pursue him in imagina-
tion, as he went sounding on through so many stifling
caverns — to shudder with the idea, that 'now surely he
must be lost forever ! ' — to revive at hearing;; his feeble shout
of discovered daylight, —
and then (oh, fulness of
delight!) running out of
doors, to come just in
time to see him emerge
in safety ! "

There are chimney-
sweepers even now ; but
none of the old-fashioned
kind. In many places it
is forbidden by law to
send boys up the chim-
neys. So the modern
chimney-sweeper puts his
brush on the end of a
pole, which is made in
joints, like a fishing-rod,
and, by attaching joint
after joint, thrusts it far-
ther and farther up the

Chimney. the Modern Chimney-Sweeper.

TOM-TIT.

What is it? What is it?

Only a feather
Blown by the wind

In this cold stormy weather,
Hunted and hurried so

Hither and thither?

Leaf or a feather,

I know not if either.
There, hark now, and see !
Tis alight on a tree,
And sings, " Chick-a-dee-dee,

Chick-a-dee-dee ! "
I know it ! you know it !

'Tis little Tom-tit.

Look at it ! Look at it

Flutter and hover !
Only a tuft of down

On it for cover !
Only a bare bough

To shelter it over !

Poor little rover,

Snow-fields for clover
Are all that you see !
Yet listen the glee
Of its " chick-a-dee-dee,
Chick a-dee-dee ! "
Hark to it ! look at it !

Little Tom-tit !

How is it? Why is it?

Like a snow-flurry,
With swish of wings,

And a swoop and a scurry,
Comes a whole flock of them

Now in a hurry !

Busy and merry

The little things, very ;
Watch them, and see
How blithe they can be
With their " Chick-a-dee-dee,

Chick-a-dee-dee ! "
Each one such a bit

Of a little Tom-tit !
Mrs. Clara Dotv Bates.

NELLY'S FIEST LESSON IN DANCING.

Grandpa Mason has not quite forgotten his dancing
days. So one day, when little Nelly said, " I wish I knew
how to dance like Emma Drake ! " grandpa replied, " I'll
teach you, Nelly, if you will bring me my accordion."

So Nelly brought the accordion ; and grandpa seated him-
self in his old wooden arm-chair. First he taught her the
steps, and then said, " Now, Nelly, you must try to move

70 NELLY'S FIRST LESSON IN LANCING.

round just as you saw Emma do; and be sure and keep
time to the music."

Nelly made a courtesy, and began to dance; and, as
grandpa looked on, his heart seemed to dance with her;
for he felt young once more, and went back, in thought, to
the times when he was about as old as she.

That was a long while ago — more than seventy years.
He sighed as he thought of his little brothers and sisters, all
now gone to the better world. But Nelly's merry look soon
drove away his sad mood.

" Well done, Nelly ! " said he. " You will make a
dancer; for you follow the music well, and step out lightly
and easily. Now let me see you rise a little on your left
foot, and whirl round once."

Nelly did it, and grandpa said, " Bravely done, little girl !
Here ends your first lesson in dancing;. To-morrow we will
have another. Now get your new ' Nursery,' and let me
hear one of the stories ; for we must take care of the head,
as well as the heels."

Nelly laughed ; but, when she began to read, the tune
she had just heard came back to her, and she could hardly
keep from dancing up and down.

" One thing at a time, darling," said grandpa. " If we
would do one thing well, we must not let our thoughts
wander to something else. Tell me when you think you
can give your thoughts to reading. I can wait."

Nelly took a few more dancing-steps, whirled around

twice, made a courtesy, then came, and read so well, that

grandpa said, " You deserve a good mark for reading, my

dear. Now, whether you read, or whether you dance,

mind this : —

" What you do, if well you would do it.
Rule your thoughts, and give them all to it.''

Ida Fay.

OLD JIM.

Jim is a fine large horse. He lives in the engine-house,
and draws the hose-carriage. His stall is so made that,
when the alarm-bell strikes, it opens in front of him, leav-
ing the way clear for him to rush out and take his place in
front of the hose-carriage.

One night, the hoseman (who sleeps upstairs in the engine-
house, so as to be all ready if there is an alarm of fire)
heard a great noise down below, — a stamping and jumping,
as if the horses were getting ready to go to a fire, when
there was no alarm at all. He went softly to the stairway,
and looked down ; and there was Jim, jumping over the
shafts of the hose-carriage, first one way, then another,
just to amuse himself.

One day old Jim was in the yard behind the engine-
house, and a man went out to catch him, and lead him in.

72 OLD JIM.

But he rushed and pranced around the yard, and would not
be caught. Then the man set out to drive him in ; and
what do you think Jim did ?

Instead of going in at the open door, he made a leap, and
went in at the open window, without breaking a glass, or
hurting himself in the least. No one who saw the window
would believe that such a great horse could possibly have
Sirone throuo-h it.

When Jim is fed, he sometimes puts his nose in the oats,
and throws them all out on the floor. Then he begins to
eat them up, and, after he has eaten all he can reach stand-
ing, he goes down on his knees, and reaches out with his
long tongue, and picks up every oat he can find.

Outside of his stall, on one side, is a watering-trough,
where Jim is taken to drink. The water conies through a
pipe, and is turned on by a faucet. Two or. three times the
water was found running, so that the trough overflowed,
when no one had been near to meddle with it.

At last the men suspected that Jim was the rogue, and
they kept very still, and wratched one night till Jim thought
he was all alone. Then they saw him twist himself almost
double in his stall, stretch his long neck out, take the faucet
in his teeth, turn on the water, and get a good drink. But
he could not shut it off again.

Jim is a brave horse to go to a fire ; but there is one
thing that frightens him dreadfully, and that is — a feather
duster ! He is not afraid of any thing he sees in the streets,
and the greatest noise of the Fourth of July will not scare
him ; but showT him a feather duster, and his heels will fly
up, and he will act as if he were going out of his senses.

The firemen think Jim a most amusing horse ; and they
sometimes say that he understands as much as some people
do, and can do most every thing but talk. H- Wi

SECOND LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

" Twinkle, twinkle, little star :
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky ! "

Did any of you find the red star 1 asked you to look for
last month ? I hope you did ; for I want you to look at
it again while I tell you something about the " twinkle "
of it.

Look very carefully, first at the red star, and then at
just as large a white star ; and, if your eyes are bright,
you will see that the white one twinkles the most. I wish
I could tell you why ; but 1 think nobody knows.

Be very careful, though, not to choose a white star that
is not a star ; for, as that twinkles very little, you may
think I am mistaken.

" A star that is not a star ? " I think I hear you say,
" How I wonder what you are ! " Well, I will tell you.

Although most of the " diamonds in the sky," commonly
called stars, are real stars, or suns like our sun, a few of
them are not suns, but solid globes or worlds like that which
we inhabit, warmed and lighted by our sun. When the sun
is shining on them, they look bright to us ; but it is only

74 HOW A RAT WAS ONCE CAUGHT.

the light of our own sun thrown back, or reflected. They
give no light themselves.

Because they have our sun, we and they are like mem-
bers of one family. We call them "planets" (just as our
earth is called '"a planet"), and are as familiar with their
names as if they were our brothers and sisters. One of
them, for instance, is called Venus ; another, Jupiter ; and
another, Saturn. Can you remember these hard names ?

Now you would never notice the difference between these
few stars and all the others, if you did not look very care-
fully to see whether they twinkle or not. And I would
advise you to ask somebody to point them out to you when-
ever they are in sight.

I cannot tell you exactly where to look for them, because
they wander about a good deal, and I do not know where
they will be when you happen to read this number of " The
Nursery."

From all this you will see that you will have to be very
particular what kind of a star you look at when you say, —

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star."

M. E. R.

y&ic

HOW A RAT WAS ONCE CAUGHT.

Do you know what sly and cunning creatures rats are ?
The picture shows how they sometimes contrive to cany off
eggs. The old fox in the background seems to be watching
the performance with great interest.

But, cute as they are, they sometimes get caught. I am
going to tell you how a rat was once caught by a clam.
It happened when I was a little child, and lived with my

HOW A BAT WAS ONCE CAUGHT.

. -V-

mother. Whether such a thing ever happened before or
since, I do not know ; but this is a true story.

One clay, my father went to town, and bought some clams.
When he came home, I took them down cellar in a basket,
and laid them on the brick floor of the cellar. Now, when
clams are put where it is dark and cool and quiet, they
open their shells. If you should go softly up, and put a
straw in one of their mouths, it would clasp its shells
together so tightly, that you could not get them open.

The cellar was under my mother's bed-room ; and in the
night she heard a great noise, like something bumping and
slamming;, down below. Being; a brave woman, she lighted
a candle, and went down stairs ; and what do you think she
found ? I will tell you ; for I am sure you would never
guess.

When the house came to be still with the night-stillness,

76 TO SEA IN A TUB.

and every one was in bed, an old rat had come out of his
hole, and gone foraging around for his supper. As he
walked majestically along, swinging his long tail after him,
it happened to switch into a clam's opened shell, when,
presto change ! the clam was no longer only a clam : it was
a rat-trap.

It pinched hard ; and I am sure it hurt the old rat very
much. He ran across the cellar to his hole ; and the clam
bounced on the bricks as he went ; and that was what my
mother had heard. The rat could not get the clam into the
hole. It held him fast by the tail all the rest of his life,
which was not long ; for he was killed soon after.

Lizzie's Mamma.

TO SEA IN A TUB.

Here is a picture of a boy trying his new boat in a tub
of water. His brothers and sisters are looking on. His
elder brother seems to be pointing out some fault in the rig
of the boat. Perhaps he thinks the sails are too large.
The dog Tray takes a good deal of interest in the matter.
I wroncler what he thinks of it.

But the story I am going to tell you is about a little girl
named Emma, and what happened one day, when she went
out in the yard to play. Her mother had told her not to
go outside the gate : so she looked around the doorway
to see what she could find to play with. There stood a
great tub full of water ; and there, close by, was a pile of
chips. " Boats ! " said Emma to herself: " I'll sail boats! "

It didn't take a minute to get six of the nicest chips well
afloat ; but after all they were not much better than rafts.

" I must put on sails," said Emma. And running into

TO SEA IN A TUB.

the^ sitting-room, and getting some pins, and then putting
a bit of paper on each pin, and sticking a pin upright in
each chip, at last she had her little boats with little sails,
going straight across the tub with a fair wind.

78 TO SEA IN A TUB.

Once a fly alighted on one of the boats, and took quite a
long voyage. That made Emma think of trying to find
other passengers ; and she picked up a great ground beetle,
and put him aboard. Poor beetle ! he didn't want to go,
and he wasn't used to it. He tumbled about on the deck ;
the boat tipped under him, and the next thing Emma knew
he was overboard.

"Oh, he mustn't drown! " she cried. " I must get him
out!" And she stooped over in great haste to save the
poor beetle. But it was a large tub, and a very deep one
too ; and what did little Emma know about being careful ?
She lost her balance, and clown into the water she went,
with a great splash that wrecked all the boats in the same
instant. " Mother, mother ! " screamed a choking, sputter-
ins; voice, as Emma managed to lift her head.

Her mother heard it, and flew to the spot. It didn't take
long to get Emma into the warm kitchen, to pull off the
wet clothes, to wrap her in a blanket, and set her before
the fire in the biar rocking-chair, with a bowl of hot ginger-
tea to drink. There Emma sat, and steamed, and begged
for stories. By eleven o'clock she couldn't stand it any
longer, and by noon she was out in the yard again, playing
tea-party, and not one whit the worse for her sudden cold
bath. But what became of the poor beetle ?

Mary L. B. Branch.

A LENTEN-SONG.

FROM THE GERMAN.

Ouog, quog, quog, quog!

A very unmusical note :
This eminent basso, Mr. Frog,

Has surely a cold in his throat.
But he does his best, with a £ood intent,

The little speckled man ;
For every frog must sing in Lent,

As loud as ever he can.

Quog, quog, quog, quog !

When the morning sky is red,
He sits on the slippery, mossy log,

With the rushes over his head.

80 A LENTEN-SONG.

He does his best, with a good intent,

The little sprawling man ;
For every frog must sing in Lent,

As loud as ever he can.

Quog, quog, quog, quog !

When the evening sky is pale.
He nestles low in the sheltering bog,

While the gentle dews exhale.
He does his best, with a good intent.

The little struggling man ;
For every frog must sing in Lent,

As loud as ever he can.

Ouog, quog, quog, quog!

He strains till he shakes the reeds,
And scares his neighbor, Miss Polly Wog,

As she hides in the water-reeds.
He does his best, with a good intent,

The little panting man ;
For eveiy frog must sing in Lent,

As loud as ever he can.

Ouog, quog, quog, quog!

Oh ! aren't you afraid you'll burst ?
You should have put on, dear Mr. Frog,

Your girdle of leather first.
But on he goes, with his good intent,

The little gasping man ;
For every frog must sing in Lent,

As loud as ever he can.

Olive a. Wadswokth.

VOL. XXI. -NO. 3.

DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.

A WOODCHUCK HUNT.

One September morning, before breakfast, Ned and Harry
went woodclmck hunting. They took Dick, who is a big,
fat, spotted coach-dog, and Gyp, a little black-and-tan, with
short ears, and afraid of a mouse, — both " such splendid
hunters," Harry said.

Gyp ran ahead on three legs ; and Dick walked sedately
behind. Ned carried the bow, and Harry, the three arrows :
and it was enough to make any wise woodchuck tremble to
see them.

First they crossed a potato-field, and then a meadow
where there was a brook, and where they lost Gyp so often
among the bogs, that Harry carried him at last so as to
know where he was. Dick ran through the brook, and
shook himself over Ned's new sailor-suit ; but that was no
matter.

Then they came to a rickety old stone wall, and Dick
barked. " It must be a woodchuck in the wall. We've
got him! " shouted Ned. " Down comes the wall ! " Then
the stones fell ; and Gyp jumped up and down with excite-
ment, while Dick gave a low and terrible growl. " He
must be here," said Ned.

But, as he was not to be found, Dick was reproved for
giving a false alarm ; and they all jumped over the stones of
the old wall, and ran up the hill towards the walnut-grove,
where woodchucks were sure to be as thick as nuts.

" Here's a fresh hole ! " shouted Harry. " Now it's almost
breakfast-time : he'll be out before long. Come on, Mr.
Chuck, we're waiting for you."

So the boys lay down flat on the mound of earth, and
peered into the hole, by way of inviting its owner to come

A WOOD CHUCK HUNT.

out and be shot ; while Dick and Gyp gave persuasive growls
and yelps.

Strangely enough no woodchuck appeared ; and after
waiting an " age," — five minutes long. — the brave hunters
decided to dig in. " We ought to have brought spades,"
they said ; but sticks and stones and hands did very well in
the soft, wet earth.

About the time that Harry got out of breath, and Ned had
dropped a stone on his foot, Dick barked furiously at some-
thing moving under a hazel-bush. "Shoot. Ned, shoot!"
Harry shouted. " Whiz " went an arrow straight into the
bushes, where it lodged, and never more came out.

" A chase, a chase ! " cried Ned, throwing down his bow ;
and away they went, — Harry and Ned, Dick and Gyp, —
over stones and fences, bushes and bogs, in pursuit of some-
thing ; but whether it was a woodchuck or a cat they never

A WOODCHUCK HUNT.

o-ot near enough to tell

Suddenly it disappeared in a
corn-field.

Dick and Gyp put their tails between their legs, and
dropped their ears ; but Ned and Harry spied some pump-
kins ripening among the stacked corn.

" Gay for Jack-o-lanterns ! " said Harry. " Wouldn't they
frighten Belle and Lucy, though ! "

So two of the biggest pumpkins were cut off. " Now
let's take 'em home," said Harry, thinking of his breakfast.
But, oh, how heavy those pumpkins grew ! In getting
over a wall, Harry's fell and was smashed : so the boys took
turns in carrying the other one.

Mamma stood on the piazza, in a fresh white morning-
dress. She heard Dick and Gyp, and then she saw her
little boys. Oh. what a sight ! — the striped stockings and
blue sailor-suits all one shade of yellow brown earth !

"Did you have good sport? " asked papa, coming to the
door.

" Splendid ! Found lots of holes" said Ned, dumping the
pumpkin. And what they did with the pumpkin, perhaps
I'll tell you another time. Miss A. H. K.

J ^Mh

THE SCHOOLMISTRESS.

" There are many thousand words in our language," said
Ellen, reading from a book, " and some words are used for
one purpose, and some for another ; and the same word may
be used in different ways. When your uncle gave you a
lot of shells last December, what did you do with them,
Edwin ? "

" I classified them : that is, I put one kind into one heap,
and another kind into another heap ; and so on."

" Well, that is just the way we do with words ; we put
them in classes which we call Parts of Speech. Now, there
is one class of words which is made up of name-words or
nouns ; that is, of words that are used as names of persons
or things. In the sentence, ' Birds fly.' birds is a noun, and
fly is a verb."

" I think I knew that much already, Schoolmistress."

86 A MEW FROM PUSSY.

"Well, sir, since you know so much, let me hear you cor-
rect the mistakes in the following sentence : ' A pear or
peach, when they are ripe, are good food for the hoy or girl
who like them.' '

" It should be : 'A pear or a peach, when it is ripe, is
good food for the boy or girl who likes it.' '

"Well done, Edwin ! go up to the head of your class."

Edwin walked round his sister, as she sat in her chair,
and then gravely took his place again before her.

" Here are two sentences, Edwin : ' 1 fell down,' and ' I
fell down stairs.' Down is not the same Part of Speech in
the two sentences. What is it in the first ? '

"An Adverb; and in the second it is a Preposition."

"Well, sir, school is dismissed. You may go. I shall
give you a good mark in grammar." Iua Fay

A MEW FROM PUSSY.

IN ANSWER TO "A SQUEAK."*

I am only the lazy old cat

That sleeps upon somebody's mat:

I sit in the sunshine,
And lick my soft paws,

With one eye on mousie,
And one on my claws.
Little mouse, little mouse ! look out how you boast
Of just such as you I have eaten a host!
I'm a much smarter cat than you seem to suppose ;
I have very keen eyes, and, oh — such a nose!

* See January number, page iS.

A MEW FROM PUSSY.

I'm an innocent looking cat ;

I am well aware of that :

I squint up my eyes,

And play with the flies,

But underneath I am wondrous wise :

I know where your nest is,
And just where you hide

When you have been thieving,
And fear you'll be spied.
I saw your small tracks all over the meal ;
And I saw your tail, and I heard you squeal

When grandmamma's broom

Nearly sealed your doom,

And you went whisking out of the room.

A MEW FROM FUSSY.

I am only a lazy old cat :

I care not much for a rat ;

But a nice tender mouse

About in the house
Might prove a temptation too great,
Should I be in a hungry state.
Little mouse, little mouse ! Beware, beware !
Some time, when you think not, I shall be there,

And you'll not only look at,
But feel of, my paws ;

And, the first thing you know,
I'll be licking my jaws,
And washing my face with an innocent air,
And mousie will be — oh, where? oh, where?

Rutu Ke.nvox.

Peter. — Fresh baked peanuts ! Give a fellow some, Polly.
Polly. — Yes, Peter, you shall have a good share.

TOMMY AND THE BLACKSMITH.

Tommy. — Do you shoe horses here, Mr. Blacksmith ?

Blacksmith. — Yes, little man : that's my business.

Tommy. — Well, I want my horse shod.

Blacksmith. — How much can you pay for the job? It
will take a good deal of iron to shoe such a big horse as
that.

Ruth. — He wants you to do it for nothing, Mr. Black-
smith.

Blacksmith. — Every trade must live, my little lady. If
Tommy can afford to keep a horse, he ought to be able to
pay for having it shod.

Tommy. — I will pay you next Christmas.

Blacksmith. — Never run in debt, my lad. If you can't

DOWN ON THE SANDY BEACH.

pay for a thing on the spot, do without it. Shun debt as
you would poison.

Ruth. — That is just what my grandfather says.

Tommy. — Well, when 1 get some money, I'll come again,
Mr. Blacksmith ; for this horse must be shod, if there's iron
enough to do it with. Good-by !

Blacksmith. — Good-by, Tommy ! Good-by, Ruth !

Akthuk Selwyk.

v*Kc

DOWN ON THE SANDY BEACH.

Down on the sandy beach,
When the tide was low ;

Down on the sandy beach,
Many years ago,

Two of us were walking,

Two of us were talking

Of what I cannot tell you,

Though I'm sure you'd like to know.

Down in the water

A duck said, " Quack ! "
Up in the tree-top

A crow answered back,
Two of us amusing,
Two of us confusing:
So we had to give up talking,
And just listen to their clack.

" Quack ! " said the little duck.
Swimming with the tide ;

" Caw ! " said the saucy crow,
Swelling up with pride,

" I'm a jolly rover,

And I live in clover :

Don't you wish that you were here,

Sitting by my side ? "

" Quack, quack ! " said the duck,

Very much like " No.''
" Caw, caw ! — ha, ha ! "

Laughed the silly crow :
Two of us delighting,
Two of us inviting
To join the merry frolic
With a ringing ho, ho, ho !

Crack ! — and a bullet went

Flying from a gun !
Duck swimming down the stream,

We on a run,

Wondered why or whether

We couldn't be together

Without another coming in

And spoiling all the fun !

Josephine Pollakd.

IN THE COUNTRY.

Fanny and Willy are having
a nice ride on the back of the
great cart-horse.

Mamma points at Willy with
her sun-shade, and says, " Hold
on tight, little boy." Pink, the
dog, says, " Bow-wow! Take
me up there with you."

IN THE COUNTRY.

Kate and Jane have the care
of the biddies. They feed them
with corn every day. The hens

flock around the door as soon
as the two girls come out.

Kate and Jane both say that
the hens are fond of them ; but
I think they are still more fond
of the corn.

A. B. C.

DODGER.

Dodger is a full-blooded Scotch terrier. His eves are
the brightest of all bright eyes ; and he acts just as one
might suppose from his name. He dodges here and there.
— under the sofa, and behind the stove, and up in a chair.
and sometimes puts his paws up on the baby's cradle.

THE MOTHER-HEX.

The other day, the baby's red sock dropped off from his
foot; and Dodger slyly picked it up, and, going to a corner
of the room, ate off the reel tassels that were on it. I don't
think he will do it again ; for he did not act as though they
tasted very good,

Dodger has many cunning ways. He will bring his
master's slippers, sit up straight, pretend to be dead, and do
many other funny things. Just now his master is trying to
teach him to shut a door.

Dodger belongs to a little boy in Hartford, Conn., who
has read " The Nursery " for five years. The little boy's
name is Georgie, and I am georgie-s mamma.

UKc

THE MOTHER-HEN.

By the side of my home
a river runs ; and down
close by the banks of it
lives a good family named
Allen. Mr. Allen keeps a
large number of hens and
ducks. One old hen had twice been put to sit on ducks'
eggs, and hatched two broods of ducks.

The first brood she hatched took to the water as soon as
they saw it, as all little ducks will. The old hen was almost
crazy at such behavior on the part of her chicks, and flew
down to the water's edge, clucking and calling at a great
rate. However, — to her great surprise, probably. — they
all came safely to land. Every day after that, when the
little ducks went for a swim, their hen-mother walked

THE MOTHER-HEX. 95

nervously back and forth on the shore, and was not easy
till they came out of the water.

By and by, after those ducks had all grown large, the hen
hatched another brood. These, too, at first sight of the
water, went in for a swim. The old hen was not quite as
frightened as before, but stood and looked at them, cluck-
ing a little to herself, as if to say, " Strange chickens these
of mine; but yet, if they like it, I don't know as I need
care, so long as they don't ask me to go with them." So,
after a while, that brood grew to be big ducks.

One day last summer, as I sat on the bank of the river,
looking at the pretty blue rippling water, who should come
walking proudly down to the water's-edge but, Mrs. Hen
with another brood of little, waddling, yellow ducks behind
her ! She led them clear to the edge of the water, saw them
start off, and, turning away, went contentedly to scratching
at some weeds on the shore, taking no more notice of her
little family. She had come to regard this swimming
business as a matter of course.

Now one little duck, for some reason, — maybe he was
not so strong as the others, — had not gone into the water
with the rest, but remained sitting on the shore. Presently
the mother-hen, turning round, happened to spy him. She
stopped scratching, and looked at him as if she were saying,
" All my chickens swim : now what is the matter with you ?
I know it must be laziness; and I won't have that."

Then spreading out her wings, and making an angry
clucking, she flew towards the unlucky duckling, took him
by the back of his neck in her beak, and threw him as far as
possible into the water. As she walked back to her weeds
again; it seemed almost as if I could hear her say, —

" The chicken who can swim and wont swum must be
made to swim." L. w. Ei

SONG OF THE GAT.

Words by A. Lloyd.

, Cheerfully
—H

Music by T. Crampton.

-jS— Nj — fr — fr-

■ ^^^^a^^^^m

-N-N-

-8-z-tib*— 1_

1. The cat and her kit-tens recline in the sun, Mew! mew! mew! They're fond of their food and they're

2. My dear lit - tie kit-tens when you are well grown, Mew! mew! mew! Some day you will each have a

3. The kit-tens they lis-ten'd and said they'd be good, Mew! mew! mew! And not kill the birds nor de -

3=:
■*-- —

igiife

Mew ! mew ! mew ! Thei
Mew ! mew ! mew ! You
Mew ! mew! mew ! They

—j-'-f-Fi — h 3

fond of their fun ; Mew ! mew ! mew !
home of your own ; Mew ! mew ! mew !
stroy the young brood! Mew ! mew! mew !

Their old mother says they must sit in a row, The
You'll catch all the mice and you'll kill all the rats, And
Theylov'd their good mother.andtho't 'twould be nice, To

•• 2 ft

big - gest is Jack and the little one Joe, And now al - to - gether they make the place ring, With the

grow up, I hope, both re-spect-a - ble cats, Don't get in the cupboard, nor kill the poor lark, Keep a -

grow strong and hearty and catch and kill mice. She wash'd all their faces and put them to bed, And now

^='zz^^z=;=z^!=f=z5=^^t^f=r:z=j===?z^-.^=^j

one song they know and the chorus they sing :
way from big dogs and get home before dark ;
what do you think was the last thing they said;

Mew ! mew !
Mew ! mew !
Mew ! mew !

mew !
mew !
mew !

Mew ! mew ! mew
Mew ! mew ! mew
Mew ! mew ! mew

tag

0 ?-0

-tzH:

sf— m — n- — 1 — -lyj— * F I— b-1 ■ I I

"WHY DID ELFRIDA GO TO SLEEP?"
VOL. xxi.— no. 4. 97

WHY DID ELFKIDA GO TO SLEEP?"

jHAT was the question, " Why did Elfrida go to
sleep ? " She had been sent to the grocer's in
the village ; and the grocer's was only half a
mile off from Brook Cottage, where she lived
with her aunt and five cousins. She had been
sent to buy a pound of sugar, half a pound of coffee, and
five small rolls of bread.

Usually she would go to the shop and return in less than
half an hour. Now a whole hour went by, and no Elfrida
was to be seen. What could be the matter ? Had she run
a thorn into her foot, and been lamed ? Had she stopped to
talk with the children on their way home from school ? Had
she been run over by a fast horse ?

" Let us go and find her," cried James, the eldest of the
three boys. " Let us all go ! " echoed Susan, his youngest
sister. " Shall Sport go with us ? " asked Emma. " By all
means!" said James. "Here, Sport, Sport! Where are
you, old fellow?" A big black-and-white Newfoundlander
soon rushed frisking in, wagging his tail, and seeming ready
to eat up every one of the children, just to show them how
fond he was of them all.

Then the children all set out for Mr. Spicer's shop.
There they learned that no Elfrida had been seen in the
shop that afternoon. "Where can she be? " cried James,
a little anxious. " Sport, where is Elfrida ? "

Sport stopped his nonsense of playing with a stick, and
began to look serious. Then he made a bee-line for the
nearest turning on the right, on the way home. This was
an old lane, on which some old gardens backed, and which
led, by a little longer way, to Brook Cottage.

By the time the children had arrived at the head of the

"WHY DID ELFRIDA GO TO SLEEP?"

lane, Sport was seen galloping back in a state of great
excitement. " Bow-wow ! " — " Oh, you have found her,
have you, old fellow ? " — " Bow-wow ! " — " Well and
good ! You are a jolly old Sport ! "

On the step of the gate of an old garden sat Elfrida, fast
asleep, with her empty basket in her lap. Emma proposed
to tickle her nose with a straw. " No ! I will pull that thick
braid of hair," said Susan. " No ! let me whisper in her
ear," said James. But, before anybody did any thing, Sport
settled the question by putting his paws up on her shoulders,
and crying, " Bow-wow ! "

Elfrida started, and looked around as if in a dream.
" What does it mean ? How long have I been here ? "
cried she. '"Why did you go to sleep?" asked the two
girls. " Yes, why, why, did you go to sleep ? " echoed all
the boys. " Oh, that's my secret," said Elfrida. " Now
who can catch me in my run to Mr. Spicer's ? " So off she
started, followed by Sport and all the children.

" Now tell us why did you go to sleep ? " said the children,
as they were all on their way home, after she had made her
purchases. " Will you promise not to tell anybody, if I tell
you ? " asked Elfrida. " We promise, we promise ! " cried
all the children. " Now, then, why did you go to sleep ? "
— "Hush! I went to sleep because — because — because I
was sleepy," said Elfrida.

Arthur Selwy>\

>J«io

THE PRAIRIE-DOG.

My friend John lives in Colorado, not far from Denver ;
and he writes me, that he and his sister, not long ago,
walked out to see some prairie-dogs.

The prairie-dog is about the size of a full-grown squirrel,
and of a like color. It makes a hole for itself in the ground.
This hole is in the shape of a tunnel, and as large round as
a man's hat.

Now, this little dog is so gentle, that he lets the owl and

^A*r„ d^-,

the rattlesnake come and live with him, if they like. All
three are often found dwelling together. For my part, I
should not much like such neighbors.

The prairie-dogs live on the roots of grass. Scattered all
around the entrance to their homes, you may see remnants
of the dry roots which they have got for food. They are
quick in their movements, and quite playful.

Johnny writes me, that, when some of these little dogs
saw him and his sister approaching, they s;it down on their
hind-legs, and began barking. Then they dropped into
their holes backwards. As Johnny did not care to wake up
any of the other lodgers, he and his sister went home, well
content with their first sight of a prairie-dog.

Auxt Alice.

STRUT.

Strut was the name of a hen that lived on Father Nrnni's
farm, nine miles from Norwalk, Ohio.

She was very vain; that is, she had a very good opinion
of herself. She always would strut when walking. Indeed,
it was hard for her to pick up grains of corn as other chickens
did. I think she never saw her feet in her life : certainly
she never looked where she stepped.

Worse than all this, when she saw any person in the yard,
instead of dodging away, as a modest lien should, she would
strut right up to such a person, and look saucily in his face,
as though asking, " Who are you ? Where are you going ?
What for ? "

At last, however, Strut received a severe rebuke for her
evil ways. Cousin William Bird, who is soon to be a doctor,

was visiting at Father Nunn's. Having occasion to climb

101

102 THE CATERPILLARS.

the ladder to the barn-loft, he saw Strut on the farther side.
He knew that she would come straight to him ; and he also
knew that she would not look where she stepped. So he
held still to see what would happen ; for exactly between
them was an opening in the floor for throwing down hay.

Sure enough. Strut started for Cousin William, and, step-
ping off the edge of the hole, fell fluttering, cackling, and
frightened, to the floor beneath.

She was humbled by her fall ; for she never strutted
again, but walked and ate afterwards like other chickens.

Uncle Joe.

THE CATERPILLARS.

Eight great cabbages growing in the ground ;
Crowds of little caterpillars crawling all around;
Caterpillars squirmed about, and wriggled in the sun ;
Said, " These cabbages look sweet : suppose we taste of
one !

Down flew a hungry bird, coming from the wood,

Saw the caterpillars there, and said, " Won't those taste

good ! "
Up crept pussy-cat, hunting round for mice,
Saw the bird, and smacked her lips, and said, " Won't he

taste nice ! "

Dog saw pussy creeping there, and he began to run.
Said, " Now I will frighten puss, and then there will be fun !
So doggy barked ; and pussy hid; and birdie flew away ;
And caterpillars lived to eat a cabbage up that day.

FiETA F.

THIRD LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

I have told you about the sun and the stars. Can }tou
think of any thing else in the sky that you would like to
know a little about ? Of course, I do not mean the dark
clouds, but something bright and pretty, that all children
love to look at.

I think you must have guessed that I mean the moon, —
the beautiful moon. Now, I want you to make another
guess : Is the moon bright because it is made of fire, like the
sun ; or because the sun shines on it, as it does on Venus and
Jupiter ?

If any of you think it is made of fire, you must try to
warm your little toes and fingers in the moonlight, as you do
in the sunshine, and you will find out for yourselves that it
is not a great fire, like the sun, and that you cannot get
warm in the light of it.

And now you will guess at once, that, if it is not fire itself,
it must shine from the sun's fire ; and that is right. The
moon itself is cold and dark. It is the light of the sun that
makes it look bright to us. We misrht call it the sun's
looking-glass, in which we see his image or reflection.

104 THE ROBBERY.

But we cannot at all times see the whole of it. When
we do, we call it a full moon, and, when we see only the edge
of it, we say it is a new moon. The moon itself does not
change its shape. It is always round, like an orange — a
dark round ball, which we should never see at all, if the sun
did not light it up for us ; and it is only a part of the time
we can see the side which is lighted up.

Which do you suppose is the larger, — the moon, or the
stars ? Now I know you will say the moon, because it look*
so much larger ; but you must remember that the stars are
so far away, we can hardly see them at all, and the moon is
our own moon, and much nearer to us than our own sun.

We can see more of it than we can see of the stars ; but
it is a very small thing indeed, compared with one of them.
It would take about fifty moons to make one such earth as
we live on, and it would take more earths than you can
count to make one star or sun. M< K R

oX^c

THE ROBBERY.

I must tell you of something that happened one day last
summer, when I was at the Zoological Garden in Phila-
delphia.

Among the persons standing around the cage where the
monkeys were kept, was an old lady who had on a pair of
gold-rimmed spectacles. All at once, a big brown monkey
stretched out his paw between the bars, snatched the spec-
tacles, and scampered away, chattering and grinning with
delight.

Of course, the poor lady was in distress. The keeper
came to the rescue, and, by driving the monkey about the

THE ROBBERY.

105

cage with a long pole, forced him at last to drop the spec-
tacles. But one of the glasses had come out of it ; and this
the thief still held in his mouth, and refused to give up.

The keeper followed him sharply with the pole. Away
he went, swinging from one rope to another, screaming and
scolding all the time, until the keeper was so tired, that I
feared he would have to let the monkey keep the glass.
But this the keeper said would never do; for he knew, that,
if he let the monkev carry the day, he never could control
him again.

So the keeper still plied his pole. The monkey dodged
it as well as he could, until the blows came so thick and
fast, that he could bear them no longer, when he opened his
mouth, and let the glass drop.

Now comes the funniest part of the story. The glass fell
quite near the bars, just where the old lady was standing ;

106 PUSS AND HER THREE KITTENS.

and a gentleman took her parasol, which had a hooked
handle, to draw it within reach. But he put the parasol
in a little too far, and it slipped out of his hand.

Instantly a large yellow monkey wrapped his long tail
around it, and started off. Imagine the feelings of the poor
old lady — first robbed of her spectacles, and then of her
parasol !

But her property was all recovered at last ; the robbers
were both punished ; and she went on her way in peace.

Mrs. E. S. R.

PUSS AND HER THREE KITTENS.

Our old cat has kittens three ;

What do you think their names should be ?

One is a tabby with emerald eyes,

And a tail that's long and slender ;
But into a temper she quickly flies,
If you ever by chance offend her.
I think we shall call her this —
I think we shall call her that ;
Now, don't you fancy " Pepper-pot "
A nice name for a cat ?

One is black, with a frill of white,

And her feet are all white fur, too ;
If you stroke her, she carries her tail upright,
And quickly begins to purr, too.
I think we shall call her this —
I think we shall call her that ;
Now, don't you fancy " Sootikin "
A nice name for a cat ?

THE LITTLE RECRUIT.

107

One is a tortoise-shell, yellow and black,

With a lot of white about him :
If you tease him, at once he sets up his back :
He's a quarrelsome Tom, ne'er doubt him !
I think we shall call him this —
I think we shall call him that ;
Now, don't you fancy " Scratchaway "
A nice name for a cat ?

Our old cat has kittens three,

And I fancy these their names will be :

" Pepper-pot," " Sootikin," " Scratchaway," — there !

Were there ever kittens with these to compare ?

And we call the old mother — now, what do you think ?
" Tabitha Longclaws Tiddleywink."

Thomas Hood.

3^C

THE LITTLE KECRUIT.

There had been an insurrection
in Dolldom. Insurrection is a big
word : what does it mean, T won-
der ? I will tell you : it means an
uprising, a rebellion. If a number
of persons should refuse to obey
the law, and rise up in arms to
resist it, they would be guilty of
an insurrection.

Now, it happened (according to
Tommy's story) that all the dolls in the house, headed by
a naughty male doll of African descent, and known as
" Dandy Jim," rose in insurrection against their lawful

108 THE LITTLE RECRUIT.

queen, Lucy the First, whose brother, Duke Tommy, was
commander-in-chief of her Majesty's forces.

The rebels were well fortified in one corner of the play
room. They had mounted several cannon on alphabet-
blocks ; and a whole company of tin soldiers defended the
outworks. Besides this, a china dog and a wooden elephant
had been enlisted as allies, and stood bravely in front.

General Tommy felt a weight of responsibility upon his
shoulders, and, like a prudent soldier, he resolved not to go
into battle until his army was large enough to make victory
certain. So he enlisted Queen Lucy the First as a recruit.

Queen Lucy looked very grand in her paper cocked hat,
with a feather at the top. She carried a gun; and General
Tommy taught her how to fire it off. When all were ready
for the onset, he blew a trumpet.

The army marched in excellent order along the entry,
into the play-room ; and not a soldier drew back as they
came within sight of the enemy. " Halt ! " cried General
Tommy. The army halted. The traitor, " Dandy Jim,"
stood pointing his sword, and the dolls all kept still.

One long blast of the trumpet, and then the brave Gen-
eral Tommy cried out, " Now, soldiers, on, on to victory ! "

On they went. The tin soldiers were soon swept clown.
The dog and the elephant were handsomely beaten ; and,
rushing into the fort, General Tommy seized the traitor,
" Dandy Jim," by the throat, and said, " Now, sir, your
doom is a dungeon ! "

The dolls all fell on their knees, and thus was the great
insurrection in Dolldom put down without bloodshed, and
the authority of Queen Lucy the First fully restored. Of
course, there was great rejoicing ; and, when the reporter
left. General Tommy was preparing for a grand illumi-
nation. Emily Carter.

.w^^fei^^fei

ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER.

On a fine summer day, a dove, that was perched upon
the branch of a tree, saw a bee fall into a stream that was
flowing past. The poor bee tried to get out of the water,
but could not.

The dove, seeing; that the bee was strug-crlmo; for her life,
dropped a leaf close beside her, so that she might climb on
to it, and save herself. This the bee at once did, and very
glad she was to find herself safe once more.

Not long after this, a sportsman, who was roaming through
the woods for game, saw the dove flying about, and lifted

109

HO A LETTER FROM TEXAS.

his gun to shoot her. But, just as he was taking aim, some-
thing happened, that checked him in the act.

The bee, whose life had been saved by the dove, was
going about from flower to flower in search of honey, when
she saw the sportsman taking aim at the good dove that
had befriended her in her time of need. " That dove once
saved my life, and now I will save hers," thought the bee
to herself.

With that she flew at the sportsman, and stung him on
the lip. The poor fellow dropped his gun with a loud cry
of pain, which so startled the dove, that she flew away ; and
the man did not have another chance to shoot her. " Surely
one good turn deserves another," thought the bee, as she
turned merrily to her work. leokoba.

:^c

A LETTER FROM TEXAS.

Dear Children, — I am writing this letter at my office-
desk in San Antonio, Texas, a long way off from some of
you who will read it. I am the big brother of a lot of little
ones, and they call me "Doc."

We take " The Nursery," and the little folks think it is
splendid. As soon as it comes, mamma reads the stories,
and shows them the pictures.

They crowd around her to listen : some of them sit down
on chairs like little ladies; some sit on the floor like beggars ;
and some — I am sorry to say — lie flat down on the carpet,
like — certainly not like ladies and gentlemen.

What do you think, children, of boys and girls who lie on
the floor, and kick up their heels in the air ? You would
not do so, would you ?

A LETTER FROM TEXAS.

Ill

Now listen ! I want to tell you something about our eat.
When we first got her, she was a tiny kitten, and we feci her
on milk in a saucer. You ought to have seen her lap it up
with her little tongue ! Don't you think it is a pretty sight
to see a kitten drinking: milk ? I do. But our cat isn't a
kitten any longer, but a great, big, grown cat.

Well, the other night she got locked up in the school-
room. You know Miss Anna and Miss Emma teach a big
school in our house, and Willie, Pressley, Eddie, May, and
Emily go to it. Sadie, " Little Lalla," and baby are too
young for school yet. These are my little brothers' and
sisters' names. There are eight of them mentioned here.
See if you can count them.

As soon as Emily found out that Kitty was locked up,
she ran to Miss Eliza and mamma, and asked them to let
her out; but they said, "No," for they knew that, if she

112 A LETTER FROM TEXAS.

got out of the schoolroom, she would surely run into the
dining-room, and drink up the baby's milk. So she had to
stay there all night.

Early next morning, Miss Eliza went into the schoolroom
to let Kitty out; and what do you think she saw? There
was Kitty, fast asleep in Willie's little wagon, and four little
kittens lying by her side, fast asleep too.

When Miss Eliza went back to the nursery, and told the
children what she had seen, Eddie, May, Emily, Sadie, and
even "Little Lalla " set up a big shout, and, bursting out of
the nursery, ran shouting and laughing to the little wagon
in the schoolroom, where, sure enough, there they were,
four little ones. Three were gray and white, and one gray
and black. Kitty looked so pleased and so happy! You
ought to have seen her. Wasn't that a nice surprise ?

May chose the one that looked most like Kitty : Emily and
Sadie each chose one of the gray-and-white ones, and Eddie
took the gray-and-black fellow.

To-day is Emily's birthday. She is seven years old, and
may have a little party. If she does, how I would like to
have you all here to play with her ! However, at some
future time I may write, and tell you all about it.

But it is time for me to run home, and get some dinner :
so good-by. .«Doc.»

DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.

VOL. XXI. —^0. 4,

113

A STORY OF A SEAL.

" The seal is an amphibious quadruped."

" Oh, come now, Aunt Emily, do not puzzle us with your
hard names," cries Johnny.

" But, Johnny, a lad seven years old ought to know that
amjjhibioiis means l capable of living on land or water ; ' and
that quadruped means ' having four feet.'

" Oh, now I understand," said Johnny. " But does the
seal have feet ? "

" It has a sort of feet ; but they are so wrapped up in the
skin, that they are not of much use on land, except to help
it to creep, after a fashion. So the seal passes most of its
time in the sea, coming on shore only to bask and sleep in
the sun, or to suckle its young ones. It is covered with a
close thick fur and is a very good swimmer."

" But let us have the story," said Jane.

" The story is this : once a fisherman, after harpooning
an old seal, found one of its young ones on the sand, and
took it home. Here it became the playmate of the children,
whom it seemed to love very much. They named it Blue-
eyes. It would play, with them from morning till night,
would lick their hands, and call them with a gentle little
cry, not unlike the human voice in its tone.

" It would look at them tenderly with its large blue eyes,
shaded by long black lashes. It was very fond of music.
It would follow its master to fish, swimming around the
boat, and taking a great many fish, which it would give up
without even biting them. No dos; could have been more
faithful, or more quick to learn what was wanted.

" But the fisherman's half-sister was a silly old woman.
She had come to help nurse his wife, who was ill. This
half-sister took it into her head that the poor seal would

A STORY OF A SEAL.

115

bring bad luck to the family. She told her brother that he
must get rid of it.

" Weary of her teasing, he at last took the poor seal.
rowed with it out into the open sea. and there, more than
seven miles from the shore, threw it into the water, and
then hurried home as fast as sails would carry him.

" But, when he entered his cottage, the first thing he saw
was the faithful seal lying close beside the cradle of one of
his children. As soon as it saw its master, it showed great

116

A STORY OF A SEAL.

joy, and tried to caress him. But he took the seal and
gave it away to a sailor, who was going on a I0112; voyage.

O *r ' CD CD 0*-0

Two weeks afterward, as the fisherman came back from his
boat, he saw the seal at play with the children.

" ' If you do not kill that seal, 1 will kill it myself,' said
the old aunt. The children began to cry. ' No, no, you
shall not kill it ! ' cried Hans with flashing eyes. ' You shall
kill me first,' cried little Jane. ' You have no right to kill

it,' cried Mary, the eldest girl.

" ' Am I to be ruled by these children ? ' said the silly
aunt, turning to her brother.

" ' The seal shall live,' said he : ' the children shall have
their way. Your notion that the poor seal brings bad luck
is a very silly notion. You ought to be ashamed of it.'

" ' Hurrah ! ' cried Hans. ' Blue-eyes, the vote is taken :
you are to live, and all this nonsense about your bringing
bad luck is blown away.'

" The seal began to flop about as if in great joy.

k> ' I shall leave the house at once,' said the silly aunt.

" ' Do as you please,' said the fisherman.

"And so it turned out, that the only ill luck brought to

t/ CD

the family by the seal was the departure of the cross and
silly old aunt. And, if the truth were known, this was
found to be a very good thing for all. The fisherman
prospered, the mother of the children got well at once ; and
all were happier than ever before, including Blue-eyes, who
now was the jolliest seal that ever played with children."

Emily Barter.

FUN IN WINTER.

The ground was white with snow. The sky looked black
as though another storm were coming. The day was very
cold ; but the tough boys and girls did not mind the cold
weather. They were out to have some fun.

Their rubber boots, and thick coats and mittens, kept
them dry and warm. One of the boys, though, had come
out bare-headed. He was the boy who never could find
his cap when he wanted it. His name was Tom.

" Now look here, Tom," said his brother Sam, a sturdy
little chap, who was always trying to keep Tom in order ;
" this won't do. You go into the house and get your cap.
Go quick, or you'll get this snowball right in your face."

" Fire away ! " said Tom, dancing around, and putting up
his arm to keep off the snowball.

117

118 OLD WHITE Y.

" I'm going to have a hand in this game," said Joe,
aiming a snow-ball at Sam. " Look out for yourself, old
fellow."

"Clear the track !" cried Bill and Ned. rolling a huge
snowball down the hill.

Mrs. O'Sullivan, who was just going up the back-steps to
ask for cold victuals, looked around to see what was u;oino-
on ; while Charles had his own fun in dragging his little
sister up the hill on her sled.

All this time, a little boy named Jim; who had been
having a private coast in the field near the house, was
peeping over the fence, and wishing he were old enough to
play with the other boys. He didn't venture to join them,
for he was bashful, and rather timid : but he saw all that
took place, and he will remember all about it when he sees
this picture. uncle sam.

tX3^K°-°

OLD WHITEY.

I am a great boy six years old, and I take " The Nursery."
Some of the stories 1 spell out myself ; but the most of them
mamma reads aloud to my little brother Albert and me.

Last summer, we all went to visit an uncle who lives on a
large farm. We had just the best kind of a time. There
was a big dog, named Rover, that would play with us for
hours. He would run after and bring back a ball or stick, or
any thing that we would throw for him. He would " speak,"
'• roll over," " sit up and read," and do lots of funny tricks.

Then there was a white horse twenty-five years old, and
just as sleek and fat as a colt. Old Whitey has lived on
the farm ever since he wTas a little colt. Old as he is, he is
still able to do a great deal of work.

OLD WHITE Y.

119

One day Uncle Wash was ploughing, and he put me on
the back of Old Whitey. Well, I liked that very much, and
began to cluck, and jerk the reins, to make him go along ;
when in an instant, without any warning, he pricked up
his ears, kicked up his heels, and ran away, leaving the
plough behind.

I can't tell you how scared I was. I held on as long as I
could ; but it was of no use. The old horse ran through
swamps and bogs, and dropped me, head first, in the mud
and dirt. I was hurt on my head and side, but I would not
cry because I was too big for that. When the men got to
me, I was hunting for my hat.

After getting rid of his load, the runaway coolly walked
up to the barn, and stood looking as mild as a lamb. I
didn't have any faith in Old Whitey after that, though
his master said he never knew him to do such a thing
before. nelson.

Woodstock, Vt.

FRED AND NED.

" Oh, this is weather for play, for play !
And I will not go to school to-day,"
Said Master Frederic Philip Fay.

So he hung his satchel upon a tree :
And over the hills to the pond went he,
To frolic, and see what he could see.

He met a boy on the way to school,
And said, " Ned Foster, you're a fool
To study and plod because it's the rule."

Quoth Ned, " You'll find that hcs the fool
Who, for his pleasure, shirks his school :
Sun, moon, and stars, all go by rule."

Then Ned passed cheerily on his way,
And not another word did say
To Master Frederic Philip Fay.

i^X Fred sat him down on a rock near by,
And cast a look on the bright blue sky,
And then at the sun, that was mounting
high.

FRED AND NED.

121

" Yes, truly, the sun has no time for play :
He has to go in a certain way,"
Said Master Frederic Philip Fay.

" Oh ! what would become of us all, suppose
The sun, some morn, should say, as he rose,
'A truant I'll be to-day — here goes!'

" Then off should whirl in a mad career,
And leave it all night and winter here, —
No blue in the sky, no flower to cheer ?

" Yes, there is a duty for every one,
For Master Fay, as well as the sun :
A law must be minded, a task must be done."

Up started Frederic Philip Fay:

He took from the tree his satchel away,

And ran off to school without delay.

^-WV^,;'r^ \ i ■:■

WHY DO THEY ALL LOVE FREDDY?

" But do they all love Freddy, mamma ? "

" I think there is no doubt of it, Freddy. The cat loves
you ; for she will let you pull her about, and never try to
scratch you."

" Yes ; and I think old Towser loves me. He lets me get
on his back : he never bites me."

"I would like to catch him at it — biting my little
Freddy ! He knows too much for that ; and, besides, he
loves you."

"But does the old cow love me, mamma? "

" Why, didn't she let you play with her calf, and never
try to hook you ? The old cow loves Freddy, and will give
him all the fresh milk he wants."

" The hens love me because I feed them."

" Yes, the hens love you ; and, more than that, the little
sparrows love you ; for they follow you, and hop about your
feet, as if they wanted to say, ' Good-morning, Freddy !
We all love you, Freddy.'

" But I will tell you one beast that does not love me,
mamma. The old sow does not love me."

" Don't you believe it, little boy ! The old sow loves you
just as well as Towser does; just as well as the cow does ;
just as well as old Scamper, the horse, loves you."

" I should like to be sure that the sow loves me."

" Come with me, and I will put you on her back ; and, if
she does not like it, it will be a sign that she does not love
you ; but, if she does like it, it will be a sign that she loves
my little Freddy just as much as the others do."

So mamma took Freddy, and placed him on the back of
the old sow. The old sow gave a look over her ears, saw it
was Freddy, and then uttered a contented grunt, as much

WHY DO THEY ALL LOVE FREDDY? 123

as to say, " All right ! Freddy, you are a darling, and I
love you."

" Did I not tell you that the old sow loved you, like the
rest ? "

" Yes, mamma ; but why, why, do they love me ? Tell
me that."

Mamma snatched Freddy up in her arms, took him into
the house, and then said, " I think they must love you,
Freddy, because you love them. Love wins love, you know.
The person who says that no one loves him should ask him-
self the question, ' But do I love any one ? '

Ida Fay.

HOW THE MORNING COMES.

Cheery, cheery,
Out of the dreary
Dark there glows
A tint of yellow, a purple gleam,
A shine of silver, a brazen beam,

A flush of rose ;
The darkness, meanwhile, flying, gone :
Thus does the morning dawn.

Creeping, creeping,
Daintily peeping,
Hastes the light
Through the window to see where lies
The little girl with the sleepy eyes ;

Glistens bright
With very joy to find the place
Where lies her dreaming face.

Drowsy, drowsy,
A little frowzy
Gold-locked head
Turns on its pillow, yawns, and winks ;
Lifts from its pillow, peeps, and blinks ;

Turns in bed ;
Then with a slow, reluctant shake,
Is almost wide awake.

124 Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.

MY RABBITS.

One day Cousin John asked
me if I would like two nice
rabbits. I said I would like

120

126 MY RABBITS.

them very much. So he gave
them to me, and I had a pen
made for them.

One I called Pink, and the
other White. They were very
tame, and soon got to know
their names. I took them out
and let them run about the yard
every fine day.

Once Pink ran away, and I
thought he was lost. I had a
long chase after him through
the bushes ; but I caught him
at last and brought him home.

My brother George kept a
lot of chickens in the yard, and
while I fed my pet rabbits, he
would feed his chickens.

Hattie.

THE COUNCIL OF BUZZARDS.

The buzzard is a large black bird, nearly as large as
a turkey. He never kills that he may eat, but devours
the refuse in the city streets, and the dead animals on the
prairies and swamps of the Southern States. It is against
the law to shoot buzzards ; for they are the health officers
of the South.

Here, in beautiful, sunny Louisiana, I seldom look out
doors without seeing one or more buzzards slowly circling
around in the air in quest of food. Before they begin to
eat, they arrange themselves in a solemn row, as if holding
a council, and " caw " in a very wise manner. Then one
flies down, and then another, and another ; and as they eat,
they seem to comment on their repast. At last nothing is
left of it but the bare bones to bleach in the sun. They
will eat an ox in a day.

Aunt Ann.

La Teche, La.

127

A MOTHER GOOSE MELODY,

Music by Annie Moore.

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f^ill

THE YOUNG LAMPLIGHTER.

VOL. XXI.— NO.

129

THE YOUNG LAMPLIGHTER.

WALLACE is a boy about ten years old, who
lives in a town near Boston. He has
a brother Charles, eighteen years of age.
These two brothers are the town lamp-
lighters.
There are at least fifty lamps to be lighted every night ;
and some of them are a good deal farther apart than the
street-lamps in large cities. Charles takes the more distant
ones for his part of the work, and drives from post to post

in a g;icr

Wallace, being a small boy, calls to his aid his father's
saddle-horse. This horse is a kind, gentle creature, and as
wise as he is kind. He and Wallace are about the same
age, and have always been good friends.

So when Wallace puts the saddle on him every evening,
just before dark, the horse knows just what is going to be
done. He looks at the boy with his great bright eyes, as
much as to say, " We have our evening work to do, haven't
we, Wallace? Well, I'm ready: jump on."

Wallace mounts the horse ; and they go straight to the
nearest lamp-post. Here the horse stops close by the post,
and stands as still and steady as the post itself.

Then Wallace stands upright on the saddle, takes a match
from his pocket, lights the lamp, drops quickly into his seat
again, takes up the bridle, gives the word to the horse, and
on they go to the next lamp-post.

So they go on, till all the lamps allotted to Wallace are
lighted. Then they trot home merrily, and, before Wallace
goes to bed himself, I am sure he does not forget to see that
his good horse is well fed and cared for.

This is a true story. UNCLK SAM-

FOUETH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

Because our earth has one sun and one moon, you may
think all earths have only one ; but wise men have looked
through their telescopes, and have discovered that some of
the stars which look to us like single stars are really double ;
and many of them are clusters of three or four, all lighting
up the same planets.

Those earths, then, have more than one sun : they have
two, three, or four, as the case may be. Think of two suns.
How bright it must be ! And imagine one of them red, and
the other blue, as some of them are. Wouldn't you feel as
if you were living in a rainbow ?

And how would you like to look out of the window in
the evening;; and see four moons ? The wise men can see
through their telescopes that Jupiter has four and Saturn
eight. (You remember I told you Jupiter and Saturn are
two of the earths lighted up by our sun.) Shouldn't you
think so many moons would make the nights so bright that
one could hardly go to sleep ?

On the whole, I think we get along very well as we are ;

132 "POPPING CORN"

and I hope the people who live in the brightness of two
sans have strong eyes given them. It must be very beau-
tiful, though. Perhaps you can get an idea how it seems to
have a red sun. if you look through a piece of red glass ; but
1 do not believe we can any of us imagine what it would be
like to have two suns of different colors.

Do you think a red sun shining on a moon makes a red
moon ? A colored sun or a colored moon seems very strange
to us ; but 1 suppose the people that are used to them would
think our white light strange.

I wonder whether the two suns rise and set at the same
time. But we may all wonder and wonder. Nobody knows
much about it. I hope you will all look at a double star
through a telescope, if you ever have an opportunity.

M. E. K.

"POPPING CORN."

Bring a yellow ear of corn, and then rub, rub, rub,

Till the kernels rattle off from the nub, nub, nub !

Then put them in a hopper made of wire, wire, wire,

And set the little hopper on the fire, fire, fire !

If you find them getting lively, give a shake, shake, shake ;

And a very pretty clatter they will make, make, make :

You will hear the heated grains going pop, pop, pop ;

All about the little hopper, going hop, hop, hop !

When you see the yellow corn turning white, white, white.

You may know that the popping is done right, right, right :

When the hopper gets too full, you may know, know, know.

That the fire has changed your corn into snow, snow, snow :

Turn the snow into a dish, for it is done, done, done ;

Then pass it round and eat — for that's the fun, fun, fun !

Fleta F.

THE POOR BLIND WOMAN.

I have a true story to tell about a colored woman who
lives in the city of Salem, not far from Boston.

She is old and poor and blind. She has had a husband
and six children ; but they are all dead ; her last remaining
son was killed in the war, and she is now quite alone in
the world.

But she is a cheerful old body. She does not whine, nor

133

134 THE POOR BLIND WOMAN.

complain, nor beg ; though she needs help much, and is
very thankful for any help that is given her.

When she goes out to walk, she finds her way as well as
she can by groping about with her big umbrella. Very
often she loses her way, and goes in the wrong direction ;
and sometimes she gets bewildered : but I have never known
her to be really lost or hurt. There is always somebody to
set her right ; and it is pleasant to see how kind every one
is to her.

Many a time I have seen some gentleman, while hurry-
ing to catch his train, stop to help her over the crossing ; or
some handsomely-dressed lady take her by the arm, and set
her right, when she has gone astray.

Best of all it is, though, to see the children so kind to her.
She comes to our square every Saturday ; and, as she is very
apt to go to the wrong gate, the little girls — bless their
dear hearts ! — seem to consider it their duty to guide her,
and to help her over the slippery places.

In the picture, you may see Lily helping the poor old
woman along, as I often see her from my window. Another
day it may be Lina, and the next time Mamie ; for they are
all good to her. Even baby Robin runs to meet her, and is
not afraid of her black face.

Last week, these small folks had a fair for her in Lily's
house. Nobody thought they would get so much money ;
but they made fifty dollars out of it. This will make the
old woman comfortable for a Ions; time.

The good woman said, when she was told what they had
done, that she hoped the Lord would reward them, for she
could not.

I think he has rewarded them already by making them
very happy while they were doing this kind deed. P,

THE COOPER'S SONG.

I am the cooper : I bind the cask :

The sweat flows down as I drive my task ;

Yet on with the hoop ! And merry's the sound

As I featly pound,
And with block and hammer go travelling round,

And round and round.

I am the cooper : I bind the cask ;

And gay as play is my nimble task ;

And though I grow crooked with stooping to pound,

Yet merry's the sound
As with block and with hammer I journey round

And round and round.

136 "GOOD-MORNING, SIR J"

I am the cooper: I bind the cask:

Am healthy and happy — what more shall I ask?

Not in king's palaces, I'll be bound,

Such joy is found,
Where men do nothing, and still go round,

And round and round.

So I'll still be a cooper, and bind the cask:
Bread for children and wife is all I ask ;
And glad will they be at night, I'll be bound,

That, with cheerful sound,
Father all day went a-hammering round,

And round and round.

From the German, i

"GOOD-MORNING, SIR!"

There was once a little robin that grew to be so tame,
that it would come to my sister Helen's door every morning
for a few crumbs. Sometimes it would perch on the table.

What a power there is in kindness ! It is very pleasant
to form these friendships with birds ; so that they learn to
trust you and to love you. The sound of the human voice
often seems to have a strange effect on animals, as if they
almost understood vour words.

My sister would say, " Good-morning, sir ! Come in !
Don't make yourself a stranger. Hard times ' these ; but
you will find plenty of crumbs on the table. Don't be
bashful. You don't rob us. Try as you may, you can't
eat us out of house and home. You have a great appetite,
have you ? Oh. well, eat away ! No cat is prowling round."

" GOOD-MOBNING, SIR ! "

137

The little bird, as if he knew that my sister was talking
to him, would chirp away, and seem quite happy. As soon
as the warm weather came, his visits were not so frequent ;
but, every now and then, he would make his appearance, as
if to say, " Don't forget me, Helen. I may want some more
crumbs when the cold weather comes."

Ida Fay.

PLAYING APRIL-FOOL.

It was the last evening in March, and raining drearily
out of doors ; but in mamma's sitting-room all was bright,
warm, and cosey. Jim and his big brother Rob were
stretched out on the rug, feet in the air, watching the
blazing fire, and talking of the tricks they meant to play
next day.

" No, sir," said Rob, " you can't fool me ! I know about
every way there is of fooling; and I'd just like to see any-
body try it on me ! " And Rob rolled over on his back, and
studied the ceiling with a very defiant air.

Poor little Jim looked very much troubled ; for, if Rob
said he could not be fooled, of course he couldn't be ; and
he did want to play a trick on Rob so badly ! At last lie
sprang up, saying, "I'm going to ask mamma;" and ran
out of the room. Rob waited a while ; but Jim did not
come back: so he yawned, stretched, and went to bed.

Next morning, bright and early, up jumped Jim, pulled
on his clothes, wrong-side out and upside down (for he
was not used to dressing himself), and crept softly down-
stairs.

An hour or two later, Rob went slowly down, rubbing his
eyes. He put on his cap, and took up the pail to go for
the milk ; but it was very heavy. What could be the
matter with it ? Why, somebody had got the milk already.
Just then, Jim appeared from behind the door, crying,
b- April Fool ! April Fool ! You thought I couldn't fool
you ; but I did."

Rob looked a little foolish, but said nothing, and went
out to feed his hens. To his great surprise, the biddies
were already enjoying breakfast ; and again he heard little
Jim behind him, shouting, " April Fool ! April Fool ! "

THE EIDER-DUCK.

139

Poor Rob ! He started to fill the kitchen wood-box ; but
Jim had filled it. Jim had filled the water-pails : in fact,
he had done all of Rob's work ; and at last, when he
trudged in at breakfast-time, with the sugar that Rob had
been told to bring from the store the first thing after break-
fast, Rob said, " I give up, Jim. You have fooled me well.
But such tricks as yours are first-rate, and I don't care how
many of them you play." Arara SALLIE.

THE EIDER-DUCK.

Did you ever sleep under an eider-down quilt ? If you
have, you must have noticed how light and soft it was.
Would you like to hear where the eider-down comes from ?
I will tell you.

A long, long way from here, there is a country called
Norway. It is a very cold — =^==^_ - — -^^_

country, and very rocky ; jjj 55=J= * ' Mllfc

and there are a great many
small islands all around it.
It is on these islands that
the dear little eider-ducks
build their nests. They
take a great deal of time
and trouble to make them,
and they use fine seaweed, mosses, and dry sticks, so as to
make them as strong as they can.

When the mother-duck has laid four or five eggs, which
are of a pretty, green color, she plucks out some of the soft
gray down that grows on her breast, to cover them up, and
keep them warm, while she goes off to find some food.

And now what do you think happens ? Why. when she

140

THE EWER-DUCK.

comes back to sit on her eggs, she finds that all her eggs and
beautiful down have been taken away ! Oh ! how she cries,
and flaps her wings, to find her darling eggs gone !

But, after a while, she lays five more, and again pulls the
down out of her dear little breast to cover them. She goes
away again; and again the people take the down away.

When she returns the second time, her cries are very sad
to hear ; but, as she is a very brave little duck, she thinks
she will try once more ; and this time she is left in peace,
and when she has her dear little children-ducks around her,
you may be sure she is a joyful mamma.

So this is where the eider-down comes from ; and, as
there are a great many ducks, the people get a great deal
of down ; and with this down are made the quilts which
keep us so warm in cold winter-nights.

The eider-down quilts are very light and warm ; but I
always feel sorry for the poor mamma-duck, sister pepilla.

o&ic

THE TRIAL-TRIP.

Davie and Harold are two little Boston boys. They are
brothers. Last summer, they had two pretty little yachts
given them by a friend. Then they had a launch in the
bath-tub ; and their mamma named the yachts, breaking a
bottle of water (a small medicine-bottle) over the bows.
Davie's yacht was named the " West Wind ; " and Harold's,
the " Flyaway."

One afternoon, the boys went to City Point, hired a
row-boat, and rowed out about halfway to Fort Independ-

141

142 SWADDLING-CLOTHES.

ence, where they put the little vessels into the water for a
trial-trip. It was a pretty sight to see the sails fill with the
wind, and the tiny yachts ride the waves as if they meant
to go to China before they stopped.

The " West Wind " beat the " Flyaway," and I regret to
say that Davie taunted his brother with the fact, and made
him cry ; for Harold is a boy that takes every thing to
heart. mamma.

SWADDLING-CLOTHES.

Did the little readers of " The Nursery " ever think how
thankful they should be for the free use of their arms and
legs ? I do not believe it ever came into their thoughts
that there could be any other way than to use them freely.
But in Syria, a country many miles from here, the mothers
do not let their babies kick their feet, and hold out their
dear little hands. They are bound very closely in what are
called " swaddling-clothes."

They are seldom undressed, and are kept in a rough
cradle, and rocked to sleep as much as possible. When the
mother carries them out, she straps them to her back ; and
often, on the mountains there, one may see a woman with a
baby on her back, and a great bundle of sticks in her arms.

With the sticks she makes her lire, in a room where there
is no chimney, and where the smoke often makes poor
baby's eyes smart ; but all he can do, poor swaddled child,
is to open his mouth, and cry.

This custom of binding the baby up so straight and tight
is a very old one. The Bible tells us, you know, that the
mother of Jesus " wrapped him in swaddling-clothes, and
laid him in a manger." So the people of Syria keep on

POLLIWOGS.

143

using swaddling-clothes, thinking, that, if they do not, the
baby will grow crooked.

They are used in Russia also, and in other countries of
northern Europe. Poor babies ! We pity them.

Em. Jukius.

POLLIWOGS.

The cat-tails all along the brook
Are growing tall and green ;

And in the meadow-pool, once more,
The polliwogs are seen ;

Among the duck-weed, in and out,

As quick as thought they dart about ;

Their constant hurry, to and fro,

144

POLLIWOGS.

It tires me to see:
I wish they knew it did no good

To so uneasy be !
I mean to ask them if they will
Be, just for one half-minute, still !
" Be patient, little polliwogs,
And by and by you'll turn to frogs."

But what's the use to counsel them ?

My words are thrown away ;
And not a second in one place

A polliwog will stay.
They still keep darting all about
The floating duck-weed, in and out.
Well, if they will so restless be,
I will not let it trouble me.
But leave these little polliwogs
To wriggle till they turn to frogs !

Makian Douglas

YOL. XXI.— NO. 5.

BRA WING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.

115

FANNY AND LOUISE.

Fanny was a little pony, and Louise was a little girl.
Fanny had a long black mane and tail, and Louise had long
brown curls. Louise wore a gypsy-hat with blue ribbons,
and Fanny wore a saddle and bridle with blue girths and
reins.

Louise was a gentle little girl, and Fanny was a very head-
strong pony; consequently Fanny had it all her own way.
When she was trotting along the road, with Louise on her
back, if she chanced to spy a nice prickly thistle away up
on a bank, up she would scramble, as fast as she could go,
the sand and gravel rolling down under her hoofs ; and, no
matter how hard Louise pulled on the reins, there she would
stay until she had eaten the thistle down to the very roots.
Then she would back down the bank, and trot on.

Fanny was fond of other good things besides thistles.
She would spy an apple on a tree, no matter how thick the
leaves were ; and, without waiting to ask Louise's permission,
she would run under the tree, stretch her head up among
the branches, and even raise herself up on her hind-legs, like
a dog, to reach the apple.

Louise would clasp Fanny around the neck, and bury her
face in her mane : but she often got scratched by the little
twigs ; and many a long hair has she left waving from the
apple-boughs after such an adventure.

Whenever Fanny smelled any very savory odor issuing
from the kitchen, she would trot up, and put her head in at
the window, waiting for Biddy to give her a doughnut or
cooky. One day a boy named Frank borrowed Fanny, as
he wished to ride out with a little girl from the city. As
they were passing a farm-house, Fanny perceived by the
smell that some one was frying crullers there.

146

FANNY AND LOUISE.

147

She immediately ran down the lane to the house, and
stuck her head in at the open window, and would not stir
from the spot until the farmer's wife gave her a cruller.
Then she went quickly back to the road, and behaved very
properly all the rest of the way.

Fanny was such a good pony, with all her tricks, that the
neighbors often used to borrow her. This Fanny did not
think at all fair; and she soon found a way to put a stop to
it. One warm summer day, the minister borrowed her in
order to visit a sick man about two miles away. After
several hours he returned, very warm and tired, walking

148 THE TOAD.

through the dust, and leading Fanny, who came limping
along, holding down her head, and appearing to be very
lame.

She had fallen lame when only half-way to the sick man's
house ; and the good old minister had led her all the way,
rather than ride her when she was lame. All the family
gathered around Fanny to see where she was hurt, when
Fanny tossed her head, kicked up her heels, and pranced off
to the stable, no more lame than a young kitten. It had
been all a trick to punish the minister for borrowing her.
And it succeeded ; for he never asked for Fanny again.

l. s. H.
— ^>°!*;°<> —

THE TOAD.

What a curious thing is the little brown toad ;

Do come and look at it, pray !
It sits in the grass, and, when we come near,

Just hops along out of our way.

It does not know how to sing like a bird,

Nor honey to make like a bee ;
'Tis not joyous and bright like a butterfly ;

Oh, say, of what use can it be ?

But, since God made it, and placed it here,

He must have meant it to stay :
So we will be kind to you, little brown toad,

And you need not hop out of our way.

E. A. B.

TRUE STORY OF A BIRD.

One day last spring, in looking over the contents of
some boxes which had long been stowed away in the attic,
I found some pieces of lace, which, though old-fashioned,
seemed to me very pretty. But they were yellow with
age, — quite too yellow for use.

I took them to the kitchen, and, after a nice washing,
spread them on the grass to bleach. I knew that the bright
sun would soon take away their yellow hue.

A day or two after, Johnnie came running in, and said,

150 TRUE STORY OF A BIRD.

•'Auntie, the birds are carrying off all your old rags qui
there," pointing to the place where the laces were spread.
Out I went to see about my " old rags," as he called them ;
and I found that several pieces were missing. We knew
that the birds must have taken them ; but, where to look
for them, we could not tell.

That afternoon, Johnny invited me and his cousins to take
a row with him in his boat to Rocky Island, of which the
readers of " The Nursery " have heard before. We were
all glad to go. As we were passing some bushes on the
bank of the river, one of us spied something white among
them. We wondered what it could be.

Johnny rowed nearer ; and we could see that it was a
piece of lace. Rowing nearer still, we saw another piece,
and another, and at the same time heard the flutter of
wings. We then asked to be landed, and our boatman soon
brought us to shore in fine' style.

On parting the bushes, we saw a nest just begun, and a
piece of lace near it, but not woven in. Close by were four
other pieces ; but they were all caught by the little twigs, so
that the bird could not get them to the nest. We took the
lace off carefully, leaving the nest as it was, and brought it
away with us.

On returning to the house, the children measured the
lace, and found nearly six yards, the largest piece being
about two yards. It seemed quite a lift for the little birds ;
and it was too bad that after all they did not get the use
of it. But do you think they were discouraged ?

Oh, no ! for they soon had a nice nest built ; and one
day Johnny found an egg in the nest, which, from its bright
hue, he knew to be a robin's egg. This was followed by
other eggs, and, in due time, by a whole brood of young

')irClS. Aunt Abbie.

A ROUGH SKETCH.

Here is a boy drawing on
a wall. He is a shoemaker's
boy. His name is Bob.

Tom, the bakers boy, and a
little girl named Ann are look-
ing on. "What is it?" asks
Ann at sight of the picture.

161

152 ^ ROUGH SKETCH.

" It's a fine lady, of course,"
says Tom. " Don't you see her
head-dress and her sun-shade?"
Bob is so busy that he cannot
stop to talk.

He is well pleased with his
work. But the man who is
looking around the corner of
the wall does not look pleased
in the least.

It is plain that he has no love
for the fine arts. Or it may be
that he does not like to see such
a rough sketch on his wall.

Perhaps he thinks that when
boys are sent on an errand,
they ought not to loiter by the
way. A. b. c.

PETER'S PETS.

" How old are they, Peter? " asked Ralph Lamson, point-
ing to two little guinea-pigs on a rude cage which Peter
had himself made.

"I've had them about six weeks," said Peter. "I don't

154 THE STROLLING BEAR.

know how old they were then ; but they were only little
things : they've grown twice as big since I've had them."

" What do you give them to eat ? " asked Edwin Moore.

" Oh ! all sorts of things/' replied Peter. " They're fond
of carrots, apples, and all sorts of green leaves, and, what
is queer, they are fond of tea-leaves."

" Fond of tea-leaves ! " cried Ralph and Edwin.

" Yes," said Peter, " they like tea-leaves very much. I
give them oats too, and bits of bread."

"And what do they drink ? " asked Edwin.

" They don't want much to drink, if they get plenty of
green stuff and tea-leaves," said Peter; "but they like a
drop of milk now and then, if they can get it."

" Where do these animals come from? " asked Ralph.

"From Brazil and Paraguay in South America. It is
thought that their odor drives away rats; and that is one
reason why we keep them."

"What will you sell them for ? " asked Ralph.

" Oh, I can't sell them ! " said Peter. " They are my pets.
Funny little fellows they are, and not so stupid as they
seem. This white one I call Daisy; and the other I call
Dozy, because he sleeps a good deal." unole chahles.

=^C

THE STROLLING BEAR.

In St. Paul, one day last winter, a big black bear was
seen strolling along on the sidewalk on Third Street. He
seemed to be quite at his ease, and would stop now and
then, and look in at the shop-windows.

Half a dozen men and boys soon gathered behind him,
following him at a safe distance. Others, going up and down

THE STROLLING BEAR.

155

the street, would stop to learn the cause of the crowd, and
perhaps join it, so that they might see the end of the fun.

For a while, Bruin did not seem to care much for the
crowd. But they grew to be pretty free in their speech,
calling out to him, " Does your mother know you're out ? "
" Will you take a glass of whiskey ? " and making other
rude remarks. Bruin stood it for a while, then turned
fiercely upon the crowd, who scattered at once, some run-
ning into shops, and others down the side-streets.

This free-and-easy bear then continued his stroll. But
the crowd behind him grew larger and larger, and he again
turned upon them, and made them run, all laughing and
shouting, in various directions.

At last, as if he had had enough of this kind of fun, he
quickened his pace, driving five or six fellows into a saloon,
while he followed close at their heels. The boys on the
other side of the street laughed at this : so he crossed the

156 THE PARROT AND THE SPARROW. '

street quickly, and put them to flight ; and the way they
all ran was fun for those near the saloon, who were now
the laughers, in their turn.

At last, a man with whom Bruin was well acquainted, and
on good terms, came up, with a chain in his hand, and threw
it about the bear's neck ; and then, as if he had had quite
enough of a stroll, Bruin quietly followed his guide, and was
led back to his owner. Alfred selwy*.

THE PARROT AND THE SPARROW.

At the " Jardin des Plantes," a famous garden and museum
in Paris, there was once a parrot that took a great fancy to
a little wild sparrow.

Every morning, the little bird would fly to the parrot's
perch ; and there it would sit almost all day by the side of
its great friend. Sometimes the parrot would raise his un-
chained claw, and the sparrow would perch upon it.

Jacquot, — that was the parrot's name, — holding the
sparrow at the end of his claw, would turn his head on one
side, and gaze fondly on the little bird, which would flap its
wings in answer to this sign of friendship. Then Jacquot
would slide down to his food-tin, as if to invite the sparrow
to share his breakfast.

Once the parrot was ill for some days. He did not eat :
he trembled with fever, and looked very sad. The sparrow
tried in vain to cheer him up. Then the little bird flew out
into the garden, and soon returned, holding in his beak some
blades of grass. The parrot with great effort managed to
eat them. The sparrow kept him supplied with grass ; and
in a few days he was cured.

Once, when the sparrow was hopping about on the grass-

THE PARROT AND THE SPARROW.

157

plot near the parrot's perch, a cat sprang out from some
bushes. At this sight, Jacquot raised a loud cry, and broke
his chain to fly to the aid of his friend. The cat ran away
in terror ; and the little bird was saved,

Ltxcle Charles.

THAT FOX!

A little gray fox

Had a home in the rocks,
And most of his naps and his leisure took there ;

But, one frosty eve,

He decided to leave,
And for a short absence began to prepare.

A letter he wrote ;

And he brushed up his coat ;
And he shook out his tail, which was plumy and fine

At first break of day

He galloped away,
At some distant farm-house intending to dine.

How gay he did look,

As he frisked to the brook,
And gazed at himself in the water so clear !

He looked with delight

At the beautiful sight;
For all was so perfect, from tail-tip to ear !

That noon, our gray fox

Called on good Farmer Knox,
Where some of the fattest of poultry was kept,

And, sly as a mouse,

Lay in wait by the house ;
Or, peeping and watching, he stealthily crept.

He felt very sure
He should shortly secure
A fat little chicken, or turkey, or goose ;

158

THAT FOX.

159

And his eyes were as bright
As the stars are at night,
As he tried to decide which his foxship should choose.

From his sharp-pointed nose

To the tip of his toes,
He was all expectation ! — when, suddenly " Snap ! "

With a " click " and a " clack ; "

And, before he could wink,
This smart little fox was caught fast in a trap.

And now that gray fox

Does not live in the rocks ;
And just what his fate was I never have learned :

This only I know,

That, a long time ago,
He left there one morning: — and never returned.

Fleta F.

GRASSHOPPER GREEN.

mf Moderate,

T. Champion.

1. Grasshopper Green is a comi - cal chap; He lives on the best of fare ;

2. Grasshopper Green has a dozen wee boys, And soon as their legs grow strong,

3. Grasshopper Green has a quaint little house, It's un-der a hedge so gay,

Bright lit - tie jac - ket and breeches and cap, These are his sum-mer wear.
All of them join in his frol - ic - some joys, Humming his mer - ry song.
Graud-mo-ther spi - der as still as a mouse, En - vies him o'er the way.

E33

JL_g 0 » » 0 j-\-a J — #;Uw j a 0 m-l-3 — -\-

__» s — • — 0 — rr0 — #^„ :cj^_fr_* — i — 0 — J-T-g- . _ «:

Out in the mead-ows he loves to go, Playing a - way in the sun ; It's
Un - der the. leaves in a hap - py row, Soon as the day has be - gun ; It's
Lit - tie folks al - ways he calls I know, Out in the beau - ti - ful sun ; It's

ARTHUR'S NEW SLOOP.

VOL. XXI.— NO. 6.

AKTHUR'S NEW SLOOP.

fOW, boys," said Uncle Martin, " if you were at
sea in a vessel like this, what should you do
when you saw a squall coming up ? "

" I should take in all sail, and scud under
bare poles," said Arthur.

" But what if you did not want to be blown ashore ? "

" Then I should leave out the first reef, so as to catch as
much wind as I could risk, and steer for the sea, the sea, the
open sea."

" Well, that's pretty well said, though not just as a sailor
would say it. Look here, Henry, where is the stern ? "

" You have your left hand on it, sir."

" That's true. And where's the rudder ? "

" Your little fins-er is resting on it."

" What sort of a craft do you call this ? "

" I call it a sloop ; for it has but one mast."

" If you were holding the tiller, and I were to say, ' Lar-
board ' or ' port,' what should you do ? "

" If I stood looking forward, I should move the tiller to
the left side of the vessel."

" That's right ; and, if I said ' Starboard,' you would move
the tiller to the right side. — Now, boys, which of you can
tell me the difference between a tiller and a helm ? "

" I always thought," said Arthur, " that they meant pretty
much the same thing."

" No : the difference is this," said Uncle Martin : " A tiller
is this little bar or handle by which I move the rudder.
The helm is the whole of the things for steering, consisting
of a rudder, a tiller, and, in large vessels, a wheel by which
the tiller is moved. So a tiller is only a part of the helm."

162

TOT'S TURNOVER.

163

" Yes, now I understand," said Arthur. " How jolly it is
to have an Uncle Martin to explain things ! "

" You rogue, you expect me to be at the launch, eh ? "

" Yes, uncle : I've got a bottle of hard cider to smash, on
the occasion. It ought to be rum, by the old rule."

" The best thing to do with rum is to pour it into the
sea," said Uncle Martin. " But what's the name of the new
sloop ? "

" Ah ! that you will hear at the launch," said Arthur.

" It's the ' Artful Dodger,' " whispered brother Henry.

Alfred Selwvn.

=XXc

TOT'S TURNOVER.

Sugared and scalloped and cut as you see,
With juicy red wreath and name, t-o-t,
This is the turnover dear little Tot
Set in the window there all piping hot :
Proud of her work, she has left it to cool :
Benny must share it when he's out of school.

164

A TRUE STORY.

&mm

Scenting its flavor, Prince happens that way,
Wonders if Tot will give him some to-day.
Benny is coming, he's now at the gate —
Prince for himself decides not to wait.
Oh, pity ! 'tis gone, and here you and I
See the last that Tot saw of that pretty pie.

M. A. C.

o»Jc

A TKUE STOEY.

Once, when I lived in the country, some robins built a
nest in a lilac-bush in the garden. One day I looked in the
nest, and saw one little green egg. Two or three days after,
I saw three more little green eggs, and pretty soon what did
I see there but four little cunning baby-birdies ?

The old birds seemed so happy as they fed their little
ones, who opened their mouths wide to take the food in,
that I loved dearly to watch them.

One night there came a terrible storm of wind and rain.
When I awoke in the morning, and opened my window,

A TRUE STORY. 165

there were the old robins flying about the garden in great
distress, making such a dreadful cry, that I went out to see
what was the matter. What do you think I saw ?

The pretty nest was on the ground, torn in pieces by the
wind ; and the little baby-birds lay in the cold wet grass,
crying pitifully. The old birds were flying about, and
beating the grass with their wings.

I ran to the house, and found an old tin pail. I lined this
with nice hay from Billy's stable, picked up the poor little
robins, and put them in the warm dry hay. Then I hung
the pail on a branch of the bush, tied it firmly with some
twine, and went into the house to watch the old birds from
my window.

They looked first on one side, then on the other, to see
that there was nobody near. At last they flew to the old
pail, and stood on its edge. Pretty soon they began to sing
as if they were just as happy as they could be.

I think they liked the old pail just as well as their pretty
nest ; for they lived in it till the little baby-birdies were
able to fly, and to feed themselves.

One day I looked in the pail, and it was empty. The
birdies had grown up, and had flown away.

Hannah Paulding.

THE KINGFISHER.

Where the white lilies quiver
By the sedge in the river,

I fly in and out,

I hunt all about ;
For I am the daring king-
fisher, kingfisher !

Eod and line have not I,
But, a fish when I spy,
From the tree-top I start,
And down, down, I dart ;
For I am the daring king-
fisher, kingfisher !

My dinner I make,
My pleasure I take,
And the fish must be quick
That would parry my trick ;
For I am the daring king-
fisher, kingfisher!

Now summer is near,
And the boys will be here ;
But I fly or I run,
When I look on a gun,
Tho' I am the daring king-
fisher, kingfisher !

166

Emily Carter.

PLAYING SOLDIER.

Little Mary lives in Boston. She has no brothers or
sisters to play with her, and no mother. But her papa
plays with her a great deal.

There is one game she has with him that is very enter-
taining to others who are looking on. At least so her
aunts and uncles thought on Thanksgiving evening, when
it was played for their amusement. I have called the game
" Playing soldier." Mary was the captain ; and her papa
was the soldier.

This is the way it was done : Mary went to her papa, who
was standing, and placed herself in front of him, with her
back against him. " Shoulder arms ! " shouted the little
captain ; and her tall soldier immediately put her on his
left shoulder, in imitation of the real soldier, who holds
his musket or gun against that place.

167

168 MADIE'S VISIT AT G HAND MA'S.

" Forward march ! " shouted our little captain again ; and
her soldier marched forward with a quick step.

"Halt!" cried she after he had marched back; and he
stopped at once.

" Ground arms ! " was the next command ; and the soldier
put his captain down on the floor in front of him just as
she had stood before — and the play was over.

MADIE'S VISIT AT GRANDMA'S.

Madie is a clear little girl who lives in a pretty village
in the State of New York. Every summer she goes to visit
her grandmother, whose home is at Bay View, near a
beautiful body of water called Henderson Bay, a part of
Lake Ontario.

She is very happy at Bay View ; for, besides grandma,
there are an uncle and two aunts, who are never too busy
to swing her in the hammock, out under the maples, or play
croquet with her on the lawn.

Sometimes she drives out with her uncle behind his black
ponies ; and, if the road is smooth and level, he lets Madie
hold the reins. But she likes better to go with him on the
water, in his fine sail-boat, " Ildrian," which is a Spanish
name, and means " fleet as lightning."

When the weather is fine, and the water is calm, her
aunts take her out rowing in their pretty row-boat, " Echo."
As they row along by the shore, stopping now and then to
gather water-lilies, Madie looks at the pretty cottages and
white tents nestled among the green trees, where the city
people are spending their summer.

They pass many boats on the way, filled with ladies and

MADIE' S VISIT AT GRANDMA'S.

169

gentlemen, who give them a gay salute ; and Madie waves
her handkerchief in one hand, and her little flag in the other,
as they go by. Sometimes they go ashore in a shady cove ;
and Aunt Clara fills her basket with ferns and moss, while
Madie picks up shells and gay-colored stones on the beach.

But these lovely summer-days go by quickly. October
comes, and with it Madie's mamma, to claim her little girl,
who is so tanned and rosy, that mamma calls her, " Gypsy,
and thinks papa will hardly know his little " sunbeam "
now.

So Madie kisses everybody "good-by" a great many
times, — even the bay-colt in the pasture, and the four
smutty kittens at the barn, — and goes back to her own
home. But, when the sweet June roses bloom again, she
will go once more to Bay View, which she thinks is the
nicest place in the world.

Merle Armour.

WHAT I OVERHEARD.

One day last summer, at the great Centennial Exhibition
in Philadelphia, I overheard a conversation that interested
me very much. The subject of it was a queer little animal
called a " gopher," which sat stuck up in a case with its
comical little head perched up in the air ; for it wasn't
even alive, but was a poor little stuffed gopher.

In front of the case I noticed two farmers, who were
talking about my little friend in a very earnest way : so I
listened to their remarks.

" Yes," said one, "I tell you he is a dreadful creature to
dig. Why, he makes us a sight of trouble out our way !
can't keep anything that he can dig for, away from him."

" Is that so? " said the other man.

" Yes. Why, I pay my boys five cents for every one of
'em they catch ; and it's lively work getting 'em, I tell you !
See his nose, now ! doesn't that look sharp ? I tell you,
when that fellow gets hold of a job, he keeps right at it !
There is no giving up in him."

" Dear me ! " thought I, " how nice of little gopher ! Ugly
as he is, I quite fall in love with him." And I drew nearer,
and showed, I suppose, my interest in my face ; for the
speaker turned around, and addressed me.

" Yes, ma'am, he steals my potatoes, and does lots of
mischief. Just look at those paws of his ! Doesn't he keep
them busy, though ! "

" Are gophers so very industrious, then ? " I asked.

" Industrious, ma'am ! Well, yes : they've got the work
in them, that's true ; and, if they begin any thing, they'll
see it through. They don't sit down discouraged, and give
up ; but they keep right on, even when there's no hope.
Oh, they're brave little fellows ! " And the honest old

B YE-L O-LAND. 171

farmer beamed in admiration upon the stiff, little uncon-
scious specimen before us in the case.

" It is very interesting," I said, " to know of such patience
in a little animal like this."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded: "you would think so if
you could see one. Why, working is their life. If they
couldn't work, they'd die. I know, 'cause I've proved it.
Once, we caught one, and I put him in a box, and my boys
and I threw in some sand. The box was considerably
big, and the little fellow went right to work. He dug, and
threw it all back of him over to the other side ; then back
of him again, till he went through that sand I don't know
how many times. Well, he was as lively as a cricket, and,
to try what he would do, I took away the sand, and 'twas
but a few hours before he was dead. Yes, dead, ma'am !
just as dead as this one, here ! " pointing with his finger to
our friend in the case, who preserved a stolid indifference
to the fate of his gopher-cousin.

I stopped to take a further look at "little gopher," with
whom I felt pretty well acquainted by this time. H. M> s,

BYE-LO-LAND.

Baby is going to Bye-lo-land,
Going to see the sights so grand :
Out of the sky the wee stars peep,
Watching to see her fast asleep.

Swing so,

Bye-lo !
Over the hills to Bye-lo-land.

172

BYE-LO-LAND.

Oh the bright dreams in Bye-lo-land,
All by the loving angels planned !
Soft little lashes downward close,
Just like the petals of a rose.
Swing so,
Bye-lo !
Prettiest eyes in Bye-lo-land !

Sweet is the way to Bye-lo-land,

Guided by mother's gentle hand.

Little lambs now are in the fold,

Little birds nestle from the cold.

Swing so,

Bye-lo !

Baby is safe in Bye-lo-land !

George Cooper.

THE ENCOUNTER.

Mr. Jones. — Good-morning, madam. It is a fine day.
Are you going out for a walk ?

Mrs. Smith. — I was just taking my little Aldabella out
for an airing. Poor child ! She has been kept in the house
so long by the bad weather, that she has lost all her color.

Mr. Jones. — Be careful, and don't let her catch the
whooping-cough.

Mrs. Smith. — 0 sir ! you alarm me. Is it much about ?

Mr. Jones. — Yes, ma'am : so is the measles. I know

174 JAMIE'S LETTER TO A LITTLE UNCLE.

two gentlemen who were kept away from their base-ball
last Saturday afternoon by the measles.

Mrs. Smith. — What an affliction ! Is that horse of
yours safe ? Does he ever kick ?

Mr. Jones. — I never knew him to kick in my life ; but,
as you see, he is a little restive : he may step on your toes.

Mrs. Smith. — Oh, pray hold him in, Mr. Jones ! Don't
let him be so gay.

Mr. Jones. — Madam, my horse seems to be of the
opinion that we have talked long enough : so I will wish
you a very good-morning.

Mrs. Smith. — Good-morning, Mr. Jones. Pray don't
run over any little boys in the street.

Mr. Jones. — Little boys must not come in my way.
Good-by, Mrs. Smith ! Good-by, Miss Aldabella !

o>*:c

JAMIE'S LETTER TO A LITTLE UNCLE.

My dear little Uncle, — You see I have not forgotten
that long ago you wrote me a letter. My mamma told me
to-night that she would answer it for me, because some-
thing happened yesterday that I want you to know.

You remember it was May-day. Mamma said, " Jamie,
you are too little a boy to go out in the fields and woods
Maying." That made me feel badly, because the sun was
shining so brightly, and the grass looked so green, that I was
sure there were plenty of flowers hidden away in the fields.

So I thought, " What can a little boy do ? I am so
little, I can't walk. I am so little, I can't talk much. I
can creep, but when I get to a nice bit on the floor and
put it into my mouth, mamma jumps, and takes it away,

TEE DISAPPOINTED KITTY.

175

and says, ' No, no, baby ! ' What can I do ? what can I do
to please everybody ? "

At last I thought of something. I was sitting in mamma's
lap, when, all at once, she called out, " Aunt Fanny, come
here and put your thimble in the baby's mouth. I'm sure
that's a tooth." And, sure enough, one little tooth had just
peeped out. Then everybody said, " Baby has a tooth ! "
I didn't tell them that I went Maying all by myself, and
found that little tooth ; but I tell you as a secret, little uncle.

Dear little uncle, I am growing very big. Next summer
I can run on the beach with you, and dig in the sand.

Now you must kiss my grandmamma for me ; give her a
kiss on her right eye, her left cheek, her nose, and her lips,
and whisper in her ear that I love her very much ; then
pull my grandpapa's whiskers, and give him two kisses;
then give a kiss to all my uncles and aunts, and take one
for yourself from your little nephew,

Jamie.

oK«c

THE DISAPPOINTED KITTY.

The name of my kitten is Breezy.
I gave her that name because she
is never quiet. When she cannot
frolic, she mews ; but, as she is
frolicking all the time when she is
not asleep, she does not make much of an outcry, after all.

It has been the height of Breezy's ambition to catch a
mouse. The other day, I was sitting in my little arm-chair,
studying my spelling-lesson, when what should come forth
from under the cupboard but a wee mouse not much bigger
than the bowl of a teaspoon.

176 THE DISAPPOINTED KITTY.

Breezy, for a wonder, was asleep on the rug. Mousie
looked around, as if in search of some crumbs. I put down
my book, and kept very still. Which did I favor in my
heart, — Mousie, or Breezy ?

To tell the truth, my sympathies were divided. The little
bright-eyed mouse was so cunning and swift, that I thought
to myself, " What a pity to kill such a bright little fellow ! "
But then I knew how disappointed poor Breezy would be,
if she should wake, and learn somehow that a mouse had
run over the floor while she was indulging in inglorious
slumber.

Out came mousie quite boldly, and, finding some crumbs
under the table, nibbled at them in great haste. Poor little
fellow, if I had had a bit of cheese, I should have been
tempted to give it to him, there and then.

But, all at once, Breezy woke, and saw what was going on.
Mousie, however, had not been so stupid, while making his
meal, as not to keep one eye open on his enemy. Quick as a
flash he ran for the little crack that led under the cupboard,
and thus made his escape.

Poor Breezy ! She seemed really ashamed of herself.
She had her nose at that crack a full hour after mousie had
escaped. It seemed as if she could not get over her dis-
appointment. Every day since then she has patiently
watched the cupboard. Will mousie give her another
chance ? That remains to be seen. fanny everton.

THE MARE AND HER COLT.

VOL. XXI. —NO. 6.

177

THE MARE AND HER COLT.

Here is a picture of the
mare and her colt. The old
mare is almost white ; but the
colt is jet black. He is a bright
little fellow, and I am sure that
his mother is proud of him.

Our Willie likes to stand at
the bars of the pasture and
look at the colt. He often
comes so near that the little
boy pats him on the head.

Willie has named the colt
" Frisky," because he is so very
lively. He is so nimble with
his heels, that it is not safe for
a small boy to go very near
him now; but Willie expects
to ride him by and by. a. b. c.

178

KISSING A SUNBEAM.

Little Baby Brown-Eyes
Sitting on the floor,

Every thing around him
Ready to explore,

Plumpy, dumpy, roly-poly,
Pretty Baby Brown-Eyes
Sitting on the floor !

Flutters in a sunbeam
Through the open door,

Like a golden butterfly
Silently before

Plumpy, dumpy, roly-poly,
Pretty Baby Brown-Eyes
Sitting on the floor.

See his little fingers

Eager for a prize,
And the hungry gladness

Laughing in his eyes !
Plumpy, dumpy, roly-poly.

Pretty Baby Brown-Eyes
Capturing a prize !

Plucking at the sunbeam
With his finger-tips,

Tenderly he lifts them
To his rosy lips ;

Plumpy, dumpy, roly-poly,
Pretty Baby Brown-Eyeb
Kissing the pink tips !

179

180 THE FISHERMAN'S RETURN HOME.

Brother of the sunbeam,
With your browny eyes,

Greet your silent sisters,
Stealing from the skies ;

Plumpy, dumpy, roly-poly,
Pretty Baby Brown-Eyes
Kiss her as she flies !

Mamma catches sunbeams
In your laughing eye,

Hiding in your dimples,
Peeping very sly :

Plumpy, dumpy, roly-poly,
Pretty Baby Brown-Eyes,

She'll kiss them on the fly !

George S. Burleigh.

THE FISHERMAN'S RETURN HOME.

"Father is coming! Father is coming!" was little
Tim's cry, as he sat at the window of the little house by
the seashore.

" How do you know he is coming ? " said mother, who
was tending the baby, and at the same time trying to sew
up the seams of a dress for Miss Bella, the second child.

" I know he is coming, because I can see him in his boat,"
cried Tim. " Hurrah, hurrah ! I'll be the first one at the
landing."

Mamma was by this time satisfied that her husband, Mr.
Payson, was indeed in sight. He was a fisherman, and had
been absent, on a trip to the Banks of Newfoundland, more
than six weeks. There had been many storms during that
time, and she had passed some anxious moments.

But now there he was before her eyes, safe and sound.
" Come, Bella," she said, " let us see if we can't get the
first kiss."

" No, no, I'll get it ! " cried Tim, starting on the run for
the landing-place.

Sure enough, Tim got the first kiss ; but mother's and

THE FISHERMAN'S RETURN HOME.

181

baby's and Bella's soon followed ; and so there was no
complaint.

Mr. Pay son had made a prosperous trip. His schooner
lay off the point, and he had sold his fish at a good profit.

How glad he was to get home, and find his family well !
Tim brought him his primer, and proudly pointed to the
pages he could read. Bella showed her first attempts at
sewing ; and, as for baby, she showed how well she could
crow and frolic.

" I've found the first violet, papa," cried Bella.

"But I saw it first," said Tim.

" And I smelt of it first," said mother.

" And baby pulled it to pieces first," added Bella.

It was a happy meeting ; and father and mother agreed
that to come home and find all the little ones well and
happy was better even than to sell his fish at a good price.

Uncle Charles.

THE PUPPY AND THE WASP.

As asleep I was lying,

My ear on the ground,
A queer thing came flying

And humming around.
Humming and coming

Close to my ear:
Shall I never be quiet ?

O dear, and O dear !

You bold little teaser,

Now take yourself off ;
Of your buzzing and fussing

I've had quite enough.
You will not ? Tormentor,

I mean to rest here,
So mind how you vex me,

And come not too near.

You dare to defy me ?

You come all the bolder?
I'll punish you, rash one,

Ere I'm a breath older.
With my big paw uplifted

I'll crush you to dust:
Shoo

What a dodger

Leave me — you must

I'll bite you, I'll kill you,

I snap and I spring:
If I only could catch you,

You rude saucy thing !
If you were not so little,

So cunning and spry,
I'd punish you quickly,

Pert wretch ! you should die.

MORE ABOUT CRICKETS.

183

It darts quick as lightning, —

0 woe, and O woe !

On the nose it has stung me :
O, it burns and smarts so !

It pains like a needle,
It gives me no rest ;

Oh, the wasp is a creature

1 hate and detest.

He knows he has hurt me,

Away now he darts ;
Oh, poor little puppy!

It smarts and it smarts !
To think such an insect

Should worry a dog !
He could not have hurt me,

If I'd been a log !

aoXKoo—

MOEE ABOUT CRICKETS.

We keep crickets in a box, and find them very interest-
ing. They are very active, and occupy themselves in
laying eggs, digging holes, eating, singing, and running.
Only the males sing, and their wings are very rough, and
curiously marked.

Crickets have four different kinds of wings, — yellow,
brown, black, and brownish-red. Those that have yellow
wings seem to be less hardy than the others. They do not
sing so well, but lay and eat more.

The brown-winged crickets are quite common, but not so
common as the black-winged, which are the most common
of all kinds. Brownish-red crickets are very rare. Those

184

MORE ABOUT CRICKETS.

that are black with yellow spots where the wings come out,
sing the best.

The eggs are yellow, about an eighth of an inch long, and
of an oval shape.

When we were in Lynn, a very handsome yellow-winged
singer came into the box, and ate three crickets. We put
him in another box with his mate, which he brought with
him. In the same box were a large female, and a common
sized white-winged cricket, both of which he ate.

Afterwards we found in his place a black-winged singer,

somewhat smaller than the yellow-winged one was ; but his
mate remained the same as before.

Some spiders make holes in the ground, and, when the
crickets go into them, the spiders eat them.

The male crickets fight with each other, singing all the
while ; and the one that beats sings on, all the louder.

There is another kind of cricket that is a great deal
smaller, and sings much longer, in an undertone. Its
wings are always yellow or brown ; but we do not know
much about crickets of this kind, except that their habits
are similar to those of the large ones, and that they are
very numerous.

Hekbebt and Ella Lyman.

FIFTH LESSON IN ASTEONOMT.

" A little boy was dreaming,
Upon his nurse's lap,
That the pins fell out of all the stars,
And the stars fell into his cap.

So, when his dream was over,
What should that little boy do ?

Why, he went and looked inside his cap —
And found it wasn't true."

If that little boy had been wide awake, and out of doors,
with his cap on his head, instead of dreaming in his nurse's
lap, don't you think he might really have seen a star
fall out of the sky ? Haven't you all seen one many a
time ?

But you would never dream that those blazing suns, the
stars, are pinned into the sky, and that they might tumble
into your cap if the pins fell out. You know better than

185

186 FIFTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

that ; but do you know what does happen when a star
falls ?

We say, " A star falls," because what we see falling looks
to us like a star ; but it really is no more like a star than a
lump of coal. If we should see a piece of blazing coal
falling through the air, we might be foolish enough to think
that, too, was a star. And what we call a shooting star is,
perhaps, more like a lump of coal on fire than like any thing
else you know of.

Sometimes these shooting stars fall to the ground, and are
picked up and found to be rocks. How do you suppose
they take fire ? It is by striking against the air which is
around our earth. They come from nobody knows where,
and are no more on fire than any rock is, until they fall into
our air; and that sets them blazing, just as a match lights
when you rub it against something.

These meteors, as they are called, do not often fall to the
ground ; only the very large ones last until they reach
the earth ; most of them burn up on their way down. I
think that is lucky, because they might at any time fall into
some little boy's cap and spoil it, and might even fall on his
head, if they were in the habit of falling anywhere.

That little boy who thought the stars were only pinned
in their places must have felt very uneasy. I don't wonder
that he dreamed about them.

Once in a great while, a shower of meteors rains down
upon the earth; and sometimes many of them can be seen
falling from the sky, and burning up in the air.

The fall of the year is the best time for meteors ; but you
will be pretty sure to see one any evening you choose to
look for it, and, perhaps, on the Fourth of July one of them
will celebrate the day by bursting like a rocket, as they
sometimes do. M> E_ B-

JUNE.

The pretty flowers have come again,

The roses and the daisies ;
And from the trees, oh, hear how plain

The birds are singing praises !

The grass is fresh and green once more ;

The sky is clear and sunny ;
And bees are laying in a store

Of pure and golden honey.

The little modest buttercup,

The dandelion splendid,
Their heads are bravely holding up,

Now winter's reign is ended.

187

188

JUNK

How charming now our walks will be

By meadows full of clover,
Through shady lanes, where we can see

The branches bending over !

The flowers are blooming fresh and bright

In just the same old places,
And oh, it fills rne with delight

To see their charming faces.

The air is sweet, the sky is blue,
The woods with songs are ringing ;

And I'm so happy, that I, too,
Can hardly keep from singing.

Josephine Pollard.

THE

NURSERY

A Monthly Magazine

For Youngest Readers.

VOLUME XXII,

BOSTON :
JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET

1877.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by

JOHN L. SHOREY,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

FRANKLIN PRESS !

?AND, AVERY, AND COMPANY.

117 FRANKLIN STREET,

BOSTON.

I2ST PROSE.

Percy and the Oxen 3

Pet Rabbits 5

Fourth of July Morning 7

A Fish Story 11

Buttercup's Circus 13

At Sea 14

Drawing-Lesson 17

Solomon and the tame Bear . . . . iS

Sixth Lesson in Astronomy .... 21

Pictures for Mary 25

The Chamois 28

A Day at the Beach 33

Buttercup and Daisy 37

Aunt Mary's Bullfinch 38

The poor Man's Well 43

Spitfire 45

Drawing-Lesson 49

" Great I and little you " 50

Our Dog Tasso 53

My Pets 56

Drilling the Troops 59

The Picture-Book 60

Introduced to the Atlantic Ocean . . 65

Roses and Insects 68

Garry and the Rake 71

A true Story of a Partridge .... 74

A Letter from Minnesota .... 76

The lazy Shepherd 77

Seventh Lesson in Astronomy ... 79

A Sight of the Ocean 81

Philip's new Whip 85

Grandma's Story 88

Aunt Matilda 91

Anna's Bird 92

The Story of the Squashes .... 94

Charlie's Composition 95

The Parrot that played Truant ... 97

Feeding the Ducks 100

Chestnut-Gathering 104

A Day with the Alligators . . . .107
The Spider and her Family . . . .110
Why Uncle Ralph did not hit the

Deer 113

Faithful Dandy 114

Emma and her Doll 117

Our old Billy 119

The Thrush feeding the Cuckoo . .120
The Cat and the Starling . . . -125

Sarah's Picture 131

Kitty Bell 134

A clever Fox 136

How Ponto got his Dinner .... 13S

The Pet Pigeon 141

Eighth Lesson in Astronomy . . .143

Drawing-Lesson 145

The Farm 146

The Drawing-Master 148

Learning to iron 151

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Birdie and Baby 153

Boys ami Rabbits 156

Tobacco and Egg 1 5<S

The Starlings and the Sparrows . . 164

Katie and Waif 166

Amy and Robert in China .... 169

About two old Horses 171

PAGE

Baby's Exploit 173

Drawing-Lesson 177

Birdie's Pig Story 180

Our Friend the Robin 181

Frank's high Horse 183

Sagacity of a Horse 185

Phantom 186

3j*CC

I IsT verse.

PAGE

The Wild Bees' Home 1

Chipping-Birds' Song 6

The little Deserter 9

At Dinner 20

Teddy's Kitten 23

The Garden Tools 30

What does little Birdie say ? (with

music) 32

Bumble- Bee 36

King Drake 40

The Cosset-Calf 48

Primer and Slate 48

Making Cheeses 54

A Blacksmith's Song 62

Madam Quack (with music) .... 64

Top-Knot 70

Crossing the Brook with Harry . . 72

How to draw a Pig So

Ruth's Wishes S3

The three little Ladies . . . . S7

PAGE

The Pedlar (with music) 96

A Baby Lay 101

The Pigs 106

How to draw a Goose 112

Learn your Lesson 116

Jippy and Jimmy 122

The jolly old Cooper 123

The Express Package 126

The White Owl (with music) . . . 12S

Steering for Home 1 29

Three naughty Pigs ...... 1 33

The Butterfly and the Grasshopper . 139

Little Mosquito 150

A naughty Baby 154

The Apple Tree (with music) . . .160

The last Guest 161

For Ethel 172

The Fox and the Crow 176

The Swallows and the Robins . . . 17S
Christmas (with music) iSS

Wild bees of the wood are we;
But our hive you must not see.

VOL. XXII. —NO. 1.

THE WILD BEES' HOME.

WILD bees of the wood are we;
But our hive you must not see :
Here behold our happy home,
Where we labor, where we roam.
Brooks that on their shining bosoms
Catch the overhanging blossoms ;
Banks all bright with clustering flowers, —
Here is where we pass our hours.

Seldom on this solitude
Does a girl or boy intrude ;
Few among you are aware
What a home is ours, so fair !
In the brook are little fish ;
You would like them on a dish :
Keep away, and bring no hooks
To these happy, murmuring brooks.

You would like to find our hoard
Of honey-comb and honey stored ;
You would track us, if you could,
Through the field, and through the wood,
Till, within some hollow tree,
You our waxen cells could see.
But beware now what you do ;
Treat us well, and we'll treat you.

Dora Burnside,

PERCY AND THE OXEN.

Summer came, and the city streets were dry, dusty, and
noisy, and the bricks made everybody's eyes ache.

So mamma took little Percy, who was only three years
old, and the rosy, fat one-year-old baby, and went away in
the steam cars to the green, fresh, cool, sunny country.
Grandpa was left all alone in the still city home, with good
old 'Titia to keep house for him until the family should
come back in the fall.

Well, those who could go to the country had just as
much fun as they could wish for, — sitting out under the
trees all the sunny days, and in the barn, when the sun
was too hot for them to want him to shine on them.

One day, great-aunt Hannah was giving her nephews
and nieces a dinner of corn and beans, and apples and

4 PERCY AND THE OXEN.

cream, and nice bread and butter, and they all sat at the
table a long time, talking and laughing, and enjoying them-
selves.

All at once little mamma said, "Why, where's Percy?"
and sprang up, and ran to the side-door, which opened on to
the green.

No Percy was to be seen there : so all began to hunt
through the sitting-room, even through the parlor (where
he never played), out in the kitchen, farther out through
the long wood-shed, still farther out in the carriage-house ;
but he was in none of these places.

Then great-aunt Hannah opened the cupboards, and
pulled out the drawers, as though she expected to find
the " grand-boy " rolled up in a napkin, and tucked away
in a corner.

There was a high state of flutter when mamma peeped
round the edge of the open dining-room door, and said,
" Come with me."

She was so smiling, that every one knew the search was
up ; and a row of tall people and short people, headed by
little mamma, and ended by tall aunt Hannah, streamed out
and over the green, across the road. There they were
stopped, and told by mamma to go softly and look in one
of the barn-windows.

What did they see ? A good load of sweet-scented hay
piled on a wide hay-cart, two big oxen yoked to that, stand-
ing in the middle of the barn-floor, with their two great
heads held down very low.

In front of them was little chubby Percy, in his clean
white frock, swinging a tiny pail, that would hold a tea-
spoonful of berries, in one hand, and with the other holding
out a berry to the oxen, as they put their great mouths
down to be fed. AuNT EMMIE<

PET EABBITS.

Many of my little readers have owned tame rabbits ; but
I doubt if they ever had for a pet the little wild rabbit who
lives in the woods, and, at the South, builds his nest above
ground.

On a warm, sunny afternoon in May, two little rabbits,
whose mother had been killed by a dog, were brought home
in a gentleman's pocket, and given to my little boys. They
were not old enough to feed themselves : so we put some
milk in a small bottle, and tied a piece of sponge to the
neck of it, and in that way the little things sucked up
the milk.

The children had a large, old-fashioned fireplace in their
room, and, after taking out the andirons, they covered the
bricks with fresh clover and grass, making a safe and snug
home for the rabbits at night. Several times a day they
were allowed to run about the lawn, and crop the sweet
white clover ; and often at night, they would jump out from
their home in the fireplace, and run about the room.

0 C HIPPING- MUDS' SONG.

They were named George and Mary Rabbit, and always
used to sleep side by side. But after a few weeks they
must have felt tired of their humdrum life ; for one bright
morning they ran away. I hope they are living happily
together in the fragrant woods from which they were

brought. Charlie's Mamma.

KlTTIlELLS, N. 0.

CHIPPING-BIRDS' SONG.

" Chipper, chipper, clear the way;

We must be at work to-day.

See us swiftly fly along,

Hear our bursts of merry song.

Watch me in my busy flight,

Glancing in your window bright;

Save your bits of yarn for me,

Just think what a help 'twould be ! "

" Chip, chip, chipper ! " How he sings,
As he comes for shreds and strings,
Which he is not slow to see,
From the budding lilac-tree !
Now with cunning, saucy pranks,
See him nod his hearty thanks :
" These are just the thing," sings he ;
" Truly you are helping me ! "

" Chipper, chipper ! " See him go ;
Now 'tis fast, and now 'tis slow ;
Working ever at the nest,
Never stopping once to rest ;
Getting little straws and strings
For his good wife, while he sings,
" Chip, chip, chipper, gay are we ;
See us in the lilac-tree ! "

" Chipper, chipper," all clay long ;
Thus I hear his tuneful song,
Meaning, as he flutters past,
Gayly warbling, working fast,
" I can't stop to talk to you ;
I have got my work to do :
Chip, chip, chipper, clear the way ;
We shall finish up to-day."

Anxie A. Pkkston.

FOURTH OF JULY MOKNINGL

Mat, Let, and Win are the names by which three little
sisters of my acquaintance are usually called. These are
nicknames, of course. Can you guess what their real names
are ?

Lest you should be too long about it, I will tell you : they
are Matilda, Letitia, and Winifred. Mat is the one standing
on the chair in the picture ; Let is the one sitting on the
bed, with her left foot hanging down; and Win, the
youngest, is the one sitting up in bed.

What is the cause of all this commotion ? It is only four
o'clock in the morning ; but Mat and Let have rushed into
Win's room to get a good view, out of her window, of the
men firing guns out on the green. It is the Fourth of
July.

" Why do they wake us up so early with their bell-

8 FOURTH OF JULY MORNING.

ringing, their crackers, and gnns?" said Let. "I hate the
Fourth of July ! "

" She talks like a rebel," said Win. " She must be put
in prison."

" That is not a bad idea, Win," said Mat. " She hates
the Fourth of July, does she ? — the birthday of the great
republic ! She hates it ! — the day that made us a nation."

" Yes ; and I hate the stars and stripes, and all this fuss
and noise, this smell of smoke, and firing of crackers," said
Let, showing a fist.

" Jump up, Win, and help me arrest this rebel," said
Mat. " The country is lost if we allow such talk."

The next minute, the three sisters were running about
the room, — Mat and Win trying to catch poor Let, and
thrust her into the closet, which was to be her prison.
Such a stamping, such an outcry, as there was !

" What's all that racket there ? " cried papa, at last, from
the foot of the stairs that led into his room underneath.
" Isn't there noise enough out of doors, without your shaking
the house over our heads ? "

" Let says she hates the Fourth of July, and the old flag,"
cried Mat ; " and we think she ought to be put in prison as
a rebel. We are trying to arrest her."

" Go to bed, every one of you, you rogues ! " said papa,
" or I will put you all in prison for breaking the peace, —
Where's my big whip, mother ? "

" I'll tell you where it is, papa," cried little Win.

"Where, then, is it, you little darl — I mean you little
rogue ? " said papa.

" It is where Cinderella's glass slippers are," screamed
Win. " Ask the fairies where that is."

What a scampering and laughing there was then !

Papa made a pounding with his feet on the stairs, as if he

THE LITTLE DESERTER.

were coming up in a great rage ; but he and mamma were
laughing all the time, and so were Mat and Let, — all but
Win, and she kept a grave face.

It was now almost five o'clock, and the three sisters made
up their minds that they would dress themselves, and go
out on the green to see the fun.

Emily Carter.

°J«Kc

THE LITTLE DESERTEB.

FREDERICK.

See him on the apple-tree,
Looking down so bold and free !
Now that he his wings can show us,
He pretends he does not know us.

10 THE LITTLE DESERTER.

Ah, you rogue! are you aware
How deserters often fare ?
Come, be good, and I'll not chide:
See, the door is open wide.

BIRDIE.

Peep, peep, peep !

CLARA.

Were you not well treated by us ?
Why, then, do you thus defy us ?
Salad every morning early,
Crumbs of bread, and grains of barley,
Sugar, now and then a berry,
And in June a nice ripe cherry, —
These were yours ; don't be ungrateful
To desert us is too hateful.

BIRDIE.

Peep, peep, peep !

FREDERICK.

Now 'tis pleasant all, and sunny,
Bees are busy making honey,
You can flit from bough to bough,
You can sing and twitter now :
Wait till winter comes, you rover,
Then your frolic will be over.
Cats are on the roof already :
Birdie, dear, come back to Freddy.

BIRDIE.

Peep, peep, peep !

A FISH STORY. \\

CLARA.

Peep and peep ! What then, deserter ?
Was there creature ever perter ?
Mine you are; to me belong;
Me you owe each day a song.
Darling, here's your cage all clean ;
Come, I say, and don't be mean ;
Come, and be once more our pet,
And your fault we will forget.

BIRDIE.

Peep, peep, peep ! T'wee, t'wee, t'wee !

PAPA.

Ha ! he takes his merry flight,
And the little bird is right.
No deserter, child, is he,
Who escapes to liberty.
Air and sun and open sky
Birdie likes, as you and I.
Paid to him is now your debt,
And I'm glad : so do not fret.

=J*ic

A FISH STOEY.

Cousin Willie lives on a pleasant island in Chesapeake
Bay. He has a boat called the " Nautilus." One morning
he was taking a sail in his boat, when he saw a large fish-
hawk soaring and wheeling through the air, as though in
search of a breakfast for its young nestlings. At length it

12 A FISH STORY.

made a dive down to the water, and brought up a large
fish.

Just then an eagle that had been watching the fish-hawk
from the top of a tree, came swooping down toward the
hawk, as if determined to have the fish for his own break-
fast.

The eagle attacked the hawk ; and the two birds fought
for the fish until the hawk was forced to let it drop, when
the eagle made a rapid swoop, and caught the fish in his
talons.

Cousin Willie, from his boat, watched the fight of the
birds, and thought he would like to make the bold robber
give up his prey. So he shot at him with a pistol, and gave
him such a fright that he dropped the fish in his turn.

Willie picked up the fish, took it home, and laid it upon
a table in the kitchen to be cooked for dinner. But a sly
old cat saw it on the table, and, as no one was near to
prevent, she grabbed it quickly, and stole away with it to
give herself and her kittens a breakfast.

Thus the cunning puss and her kitties, you see,

Got the better of those brave fishers three.

Cousin Lucy.

BUTTERCUP'S CIRCUS.

Fred and Bertie, two little black-eyed boys, were visit-
ing their Aunt Susan in a beautiful country village. The
large, old-fashioned house, under a giant elm-tree, was full
of wonders to them ; but their greatest delights were in
driving the old gray horse, or feeding ' and petting an
Alderney calf which their Uncle Harry was raising.

This "baby-cow," as little Bertie called her, was kept
away from its mother, old Clover, most of the day, and tied
to a cherry-tree in the side yard. The boys named her
Buttercup. They were allowed to feed her with meal and
water; and she soon grew so tame, that they could pat and
caress her as much as they pleased.

One day Fred found an old saddle in the stable ; and he
proposed to Bertie to help him put it on the calf, and have

14 AT SEA.

a ride the length of her rope. They succeeded in fastening
it upon Buttercup's smooth back ; and Freddie exclaimed
with delight, "Now we will have a first-class circus ! "

They brought a chair from the house, and placed it bv
the side of Miss Cow, she looking wonderingly at them with
great round eyes. The boys both stood together in the
chair, and Fred said, " Now I will count, and, when I say
four, we must spring upon the saddle. One — two —
three — four;" and on they went.

But, before they could have said "j£ue," Miss Buttercup's
heels were in the air, and her head went down so quickly,
that Master Fred felt a sudden chill, and found himself in a
tub of rain-water that stood under the eaves of the wood-
shed ; while Bertie went head-foremost into a pan of meal
and water.

A slight noise followed their fall. Their uncle and aunt
appeared. The saddle was sent back to the stable, and the
boys did not engage Buttercup for any more circus per-
formances that summer. MAMMA Maggie>

AT SEA.

Bark "Murray," Pacific Ocean, December, TS76.

Dear Nursery, — I am making a voyage on a sailing
vessel from San Francisco to the Sandwich Islands. We
have been on the water for three weeks.

Every clay at noon, if the sun shines, the captain comes
up on deck with a queer thing in his hand, which he calls a
sextant. With this he looks at the sun, and finds out just
where on this great ocean we are, and just how far we have
gone in the last twenty-four hours. To-day he says we are
three hundred miles from Honolulu.

AT SEA.

There are twenty sails on this ship. I love to lie down
on deck, and look at them ; and I think it is a beautiful sight
to see them all spread and filled with wind. It almost seems
as if their tops touched the sky. All the masts and sails
and ropes have names. I am sure it would take me a good
while to learn them ; but all the sailors know them.

When the captain wants a sail changed, he gives the
order in a very loud tone ; then the first mate, who is never
very far from the captain, repeats the order ; and then the
sailors run quickly to the ropes and pull away, and sing
while they pull ; and the sail goes up or down, just as the
captain wants it.

Every hour a sailor takes his turn at steering the ship :
so there is always one man at the wheel. There is a large
bell swung just in front of him, which he strikes every half-
hour to mark the time. When it is twelve o'clock, he strikes

16 AT SEA.

the bell eight times ; and it is eight bells again at four
o'clock and at eight o'clock. The first hour after eiehi
bells is two bells; the second, four bells; the third, six
bells ; and the half-hours strike the odd numbers, — three
five, and seven bells. It is a very funny way to tell time, J
think.

One day the captain slung a hammock on deck, and we
had a nice time swinging in it. Another day, when the sea
was very calm, he hung a rope from the rigging, and made
a real swing for us. We have long fish-lines which we
throw over the ship's side. Once a gentleman on board
caught a beautiful dolphin, all green and blue and gold.
The steward made a nice chowder out of the dolphin for our
lunch, and wre had baked dolphin for dinner that day.

Thanksgiving Eve a little lamb was born on board. The
sailors named it " Thanksgiving," for the day. It is a dear
little lamb now, — so white and gentle ! We have tied a
blue ribbon around its neck, and it will run all over the
deck after us, and go to sleep in our laps. There is a cun-
ning little pig, too, which I call " Dennis," after the pig-
that I read about in " The Nursery." I wish it were really
the same wonderful little pig ; but mamma says she does
not think it can be.

I must tell you about the beautiful bouquet the steward
made for our Thanksgiving; dinner. It was made out of
vegetables with a knife — yellow roses from carrots, and
white roses, japonicas, and tuberoses from turnips and pota-
toes. Some of the petals he dipped into beet-water, and so
made blush roses of them. Then he made two canary-birds
of carrots, and perched them among the flowers. Mamma-
said that she had seen many a cluster of wax flowers that
were not as beautiful.

Perhaps I will write again when we arrive at Honolulu.

Rose.

> 'i.. xxn. -su, i.

DKAWIXG-LKSSOX BY HAKRISOX WEIR

SOLOMON AND THE TAME BEAK.

Uncle Reuben was a farmer ; and he had a great many
cattle, sheep, horses, pigs, geese, and turkeys, all of which,
you know, are usually found on a large farm ; and, besides
these, he had one animal not usually found on a farm, and
that was a tame bear. He hired a large boy to do the
"chores," as the easy part of farm- work is called; and this
boy's name was Solomon Sturtevant.

Now, although the bear was tame, he was kept chained ;
for there was no knowing what mischief even a tame bear
might take it into his head to do. He might take a notion
to find out how a nice tender pig would taste.

Solomon thought it fine sport to tease the bear, and there
was one way of doing it more amusing than any other, and
that was to pelt him with green chestnut-burs.

Chestnut-burs, you know, are covered with sharp thorns;
and yet the bear, being very fond of chestnuts, would try to
get at the nuts which he knew were in them, — snarling
and whining, and making up very comical faces, because the
burs pricked his mouth.

Solomon would stand and watch him, and think it fine
fun. But he came near doing it once too often ; for
one day, when he had carried the bear a capful of burs,
intending to have a good laugh at him, the chain that held
the bear was not fastened as firmly as usual. After trying-
two or three burs, the bear made a spring toward Solomon,
got loose from his chain, and started after him in earnest.

Solomon was not long in deciding that he had something
to do that time besides laughing, and started in a hurry to
get out of the bear's way. Now there was a ladder leaning
against the side of the barn close by, and Solomon thought
that if he went up on the barn-roof he would be all right.

SOLOMON AND THE TAME BEAR. 19

No such thing. The bear went right up the ladder after
him. . Then Solomon ran up the roof to the ridge ; but
the bear followed. Solomon ran down the other side of the
roof, and so did the bear. Solomon jumped down to
the cow-house, and still the bear followed him. Then Solo-
mon jumped on to a shed that was close by the cow-house,
and the bear jumped too.

Solomon now began to think that his time had come.
He gave one more jump from the shed to the ground.
This was too much of a jump for the bear to take, and so
Solomon made good his escape.

I do not remember how the bear got down ; but I am
sure, that, when he did, Solomon did not care to feed him
any more with green chestnut-burs. I think Solomon was
too glad to escape a hugging to try it very soon again.

This is a true story. A0NT EM.

AT DINNER.

My little kittens, here, you see,
Are just as good as they can be ;
Not often do three children dine,
Who are as well-behaved as mine.

I've taught them how to be polite,
To keep their bibs all clean and white,
To say, " Mee-oo " for " If you please,"
And never to be cross, or tease.

My darlings, Muff and Puff and Fluff,
Stop always when they've had enough :
They never come unwashed or late,
They never crowd or push the plate.

My care has not been vainly spent ;

That's why I purr with such content ;

For I'm the milk-white puss, you know,

That sits close by — their mother — Snow,
so

SIXTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

Did you ever hear of a great bear and a little bear made
of stars ? And a big dog ? And a lion ? If 3011 never
did, I suppose you would like to be told where they are, —
such astonishing; things as animals made of stars. But, if
you think a minute, you will see that every thing that has
any thing to do with stars must be up in the sky.

Now this very night, if the stars come out before you
go to bed, I want you to look for the Great Bear. It is not
a real bear, of course ; but it is a kind of picture of a bear.
I wish it could growl, to give you an idea where it is,
because, it really looks so little like a bear, it is very hard to
find. It is nearly overhead now ; but you needn't be a bit
frightened. The Great Bear has never been known to drop
down on little girls and boys.

22 SIXTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

There is a funny thing about this bear. Part of him is a
big dipper, and I think you will find him out by that. If
you can find the seven bright stars in the shape of a clipper,
you have found the bear's tail and a part of his body.

And now I want to tell you how it happens that these
stars are called the Great Bear. If you look up in the sky
some bright starlight night, you will see there a good many
different figures, in stars ; and a long time ago, people gave
names to these figures. To one of them they gave the
name of the Great Bear ; to another, the Little Bear ; to
another, the Great Dog ; and so on. These different star-
figures are called constellations. They really look very
little like the things they are named for : so I can't expect
you to find them without help.

Now, it is very convenient to have the stars divided up
in this way. When I asked you to find the red star last
winter, it would have been a great help -to you if I had told
you what constellation it was in ; but you might not have
known what I meant by a constellation.

I had so many pleasant letters about that red star. I am
going to ask you to write again when you find the Great
Bear, although I suppose most of you are abed and asleep
before he comes out for the night. He will appear earlier
when the clays are shorter, and I do not believe he can
escape all your bright eyes. But I should advise you to ask
some one who knows where he is to point him out to you.

TEDDY'S KITTEN.

To let the kitten lie and sleep
Is something Teddy cannot do ;

Like caterpillar in a heap,

She'd like to curl the whole day through,
If Teddy did but want her to.

24 TEDDY'S KITTEN.

I wonder if she understands,

How just the look of her soft fur

So tempts his little roguish hands
He cannot keep away from her :
He says he wants " to hear her purr ! "

And, if he does, 'tis well enough ;
But then, why does he rub the way

To make her silky coat look rough ? —
That coat of shining silver-gray,
So washed and polished every day?

Why is it that he loves so much
To tickle the unconscious paws

With just a finger tip or touch,
Or open them to find the claws ?
His reason for it is, " Because ! "

When Teddy sometime wanted rest,
What if a giant came and sat

Beside him when he slept the best,

And rolled him this way, rubbed him that,
And teased him, as he does the cat?

Do you believe he'd smile and blink,
And bear the teasing patiently ?

I think he'd wink a sleepy wink,
And say, not over pleasantly,
" O giant, please to let me be ! "

Mits. Clara Doty Bates.

PICTURES FOR MARY.

When little Jack Horner
was eating pie, he put in his
thumb, and pulled out a plum.
When Mary's mother reads to
her out of a book, the little girl
acts a good deal like Jack.

She puts out her finger, and
points to the pictures. She

PICTURES FOR MARY.

thinks them the best part of
the book. They are her plums.
If Mary calls out, "Moo-o-o,"
you may know that she sees a
picture of cows. Here is the

very one she
found a day
or two ago.
In it you see
two cows,— a
big one and
a little one.
The big cow
is standing
up, and the
little cow is lying beside her.

The little cow has no horns.
Mary calls it "a little cow,"
because it looks too old to be
called a calf.

PICTURES FOR MARY.

Here is the very picture that
Mary was looking at when she
called out, "Ba-a-a!"

How many sheep do you see
in it? There are two lying
down: there
is one stand-
ing up: that
makes three.
Is that all?

Look very I
sharp. See |
if you can't J
find more of
them. Mary
found some straying about on
the hills. She thought she
could see lambs too; but sheep,
when a long way off, look very
much like lambs. A. R c

THE CHAMOIS.

The chamois is a sort of antelope. But first let us say
something of the pronunciation of this word chamois. It
is often pronounced as if it were spelled shammy. This is,
perhaps, the easiest mode. But it would be nearer to the
French mode to pronounce it sham-wah, the last a having
the sound of a in wall.

The family of antelopes consists of nearly seventy species,
upward of fifty being found nowhere but in Africa. The
whole of America, North and South, contains but one
species. All the antelopes have a most delicate sense of
smell, and few quadrupeds can equal them in fleetness.
They will outrun the swiftest greyhounds.

The antelopes live in herds, and are very careful not to
be surprised : so they place sentinels to watch, and give
alarm. The eye, large and brilliant, is a marked feature of
the tribe. The word " antelope " signifies " bright eyes."

Our picture shows us several young chamois, standing
amid the crags and chasms and precipices which they
delight in. A chamois can descend in two or three leaps
a rock of twenty or thirty feet, without the smallest pro-
jection on which to rest.

The horns of the full-grown chamois are quite black and
smooth, and formed like a perfect hook with very sharp
points. These elegant creatures are the only animals of
the antelope kind to be found in Western Europe. They
choose for their home the loftiest mountains.

They dislike heat, and in the summer time they frequent
the cold upper regions of the everlasting hills, — either the
lofty peaks, or those valleys where the snow never melts.
In the winter time, however, the cold of those bleak soli-
tudes seems too much for them, spite of their long, hair and

THE CHAMOIS.

thick coat of fine wool ; and they descend to the lower
regions. It is then, and only then, that the hunter has any
chance of capturing them.

It is said they can scent a man a mile and a half off ; and
their restlessness and suspicion are extreme. At the pros-
pect of danger they are off and away, racing at an incredi-
ble speed, scaling crags with the most amazing agility, and
leaving the pursuer far behind.

They are usually taken by a party of hunters, who sur-
round the glen where they are, and advance towards each
other until the herd is hemmed in on all sides.

The flesh of the antelope is like venison. No animal

THE GARDEN TOOLS.

ought to yield sweeter meat than the chamois, when we
think what he feeds upon. Mountain herbs and flowers,
and tender shoots from tree and shrub — such is his food.
He drinks very little, but that little is sparkling water ;
while the air which reddens his blood is the purest in the
world.

Ukole Charles.

o^Xc

THE GARDEN TOOLS.

Come, hoe and shovel and rake,
From your winter nap awake !
The spring has come ;

There's work to be done:
The birds are calling,

And off I must run
My little garden to make.

You have lain in the attic so long,
Perhaps you forget you belong
In the sunshine and air full half of the year ;
And to leave you to mice and to cobwebs up here
Any longer would surely be wrong.

Come out of the darkness to light,
Where the sunbeams are glittering bright,
And the green grass is growing ;

For I must be hoeing,
And digging the earth, and my seeds be a-sowing,

And finish it all before night.

THE GARDEN TOOLS.

Oh, how I hurried and dressed !
For the robin was building his nest,

And he cried, " Fie ! For shame !

What is the boy's name,
Who sleeps in the morning ? He's surely to blame
For not working here with the rest."

Come then, rake, shovel, and hoe,
With a run and a jump, here we go !

Soon so busy we'll be,

That the robins shall see,
For all their fine words, they're no smarter than we,
As off to the garden we go !

Auntie Frank.

WHAT DOES LITTLE BIRDIE SAY ?

Words by Tennyson.

Andantino Legato. Music by T. Orampton

VOICE.

-s- - -N N —

-4r-W • B=^-5

■#H -Pft

■•» "*» ** *M •*•!«*»! lJLbM "•»! *<3 *n "S3 "*3

*-»"

1. What does lit-tle

2. What does lit-tle

PIANO

■«-• — p^

peep of day ?
peep of day ?

Let
Ba

me
by

=5 53 53 =3

fly says lit-tle tar- die,

says like lit-tle bir-die,

if' "'

Mo- ther let me
Let me rise and

*•*.' ^ !"»* (*»' "\ ' fnl -6-4

i «*w "*tf ^ *•! \m '

- tie Ion - ger Till tb

...- tie Ion -ger Till tb

wait a lit - tie Ion - ger Till the
sleep a lit - tie Ion - ger Till the

lit-
lit

lie

tie

wings are stronger,
limbs are stronger.

So she rests a
If she sleeps a

lit - tie longer, Then she flies
lit - tie longer, She shall fly

a - way.
a - way.

t— t-

5=E|i^i

VOL. XXII.— NO. 2.

A DAY AT THE BEACH.

IHERE are few of the little readers of "The
Nursery " who could not tell of pleasant days
spent among green fields and woods, or on the
seashore. But in almost every large city, there
are many children who have never been out of
sight of brick walls.

Their homes are in close rooms in narrow streets, and
there they live from one year's end to the other. In winter
they are often pinched with cold. In summer they suffer
even more from the heat. You may see them at windows
and doors, or on hot sidewalks, trying to get a breath of
fresh air. It is not pure air, but the best they can get.

What I am going to tell you is about two of those poor
children. One is a little girl, nine years old, whom we will
call Jane. The other, who is only eight years old, is her
brother George.

Both children go to a Sunday school, and have for their
teacher a kind lady, who takes great interest in them. One
warm summer day, io their great delight, this lady, whom
we will name Miss White, called for them to go with her on
a trip to the seashore.

Dressed in the best clothes they could muster, they were
soon on board the steamboat. Here every thing was new
to them. As the boat steamed down the harbor, it would
have been joy to anybody only to watch the happy expres-
sion on their faces.

By and by the boat neared the land ; and there the
children saw a wonderful sight. What do you suppose it
was ? It was a cow quietly feeding on the shore. They
had never seen a cow before.

Then Jane got sight of an apple-tree, and George spied a

A DAY AT THE BEACH.

man raking hay. Here was another new sensation. While
they were feasting their eyes on green fields, and inhaling
the sweet country air, the boat stopped at the wharf.

A few steps brought them to the beach ; and there,
stretched before them, was the great wide ocean, with the
surf rolling in, and a cool sea-breeze blowing:. Then their
joy knew no bounds. Miss White did not try to restrain
them ; for she meant to give them at least one day of
perfect freedom.

So they roamed at will. How they dug wells in the
sand, how they flung stones into the water, how they picked
up shells and sea-weed-, how they scrambled over the rocks,
it would take too much space to tell.

When they were well tired out, and began to be hungry.
Miss White opened a luncheon-box in a shady place among
the rocks, and gave them such a dinner as they had never
had before. Then their bliss was complete.

The day passed away almost too quickly, and the time
came to go back to the city. That seemed rather hard to
Jane and George. But they have the promise of another
excursion before the summer is over. jANE Oliver.

• 1 "0

BUMBLE-BEE.

The smartest of dandies is young Mr. Bee,
Who is known by the name of Bumble ;
His life is a short one, but merry and free:

They're mistaken who call him " Humble."
Clad in black velvet, with trimmings of yellow,
He knows well enough he's a fine-looking
fellow ;
And, hiding away a sharp little dagger,

He dashes about with a confident swagger,
While to show he's at ease, and to tell of his

coming,
A tune he is always carelessly humming.

Eating or drinking, or looking for pleasure
Fit for the tastes of a person of leisure,
Down where the meadow is sunny and breezy,

In the red clover, he takes the world easy ;
Or, feeling the need of a little diversion,

He makes to the garden a pleasant excursion,
And into a lily or hollyhock dodging

With quiet assurance he takes up his lodging.
With a snug little fortune invested in honey,

Young Bumble Bee lives like a prince, on his money,
And, scorning some plodding relations of his, he

Leaves hard labor to them, — his cousins named
"Busv " D' B" Barxakd«

BUTTERCUP AND DAISY.

Dear little Readers of " The Nursery:" — I would like to
tell you a story about my little brother Clinton and myself.
We each have a nice little calf down at our grandpa's farm
in the country. One is a pure Alderney, grandpa says, and
is of a beautiful fawn color : the other is red and white.
Grandpa let us name them : so we called them Buttercup
and Daisy. Clinton's is Buttercup, and mine is Daisy.

They are both very kind and gentle. Both have cunning
little horns, just coming out of their heads ; but they do not
hook little brother or me. In the picture you will see them
eating corn out of our hands.

At first we were afraid of their damp noses and rough
tongues ; but we soon got over that, and now feed them
every time we go to the farm.

38 AUNT MARY'S BULLFINCH.

Papa tried to heave the little Aklerney give us a ride on
its back ; but, as soon as we were well on, the calf kicked Lip
its heels and ran away, saying, " Bah ! " and leaving brother
and me on our backs on the soft turf. We were not hurt
at all, but had a good laugh.

Buttercup soon came back for more corn ; and uncle said,
" Give it to her in the ear; " but I said I thought her mouth
was the best place to put it in. Then uncle laughed, and
said that was a joke. Do you know what he meant?

Hakry C. Mathek.
oo-HKov

AUNT MARY'S BULLFINCH.

" Now be sure and not frighten it, children," said Aunt
Mary as she left the room.

John and Lucy lifted the handkerchief from the cage,
while Paul and Richard, with anxious eyes, stood by to get
a sight of the piping bullfinch, of which they had heard so
much.

This little bird had been presented to Aunt Mary b}' a
German lady to whom she had been kind. It could whistle
two or three tunes in a way to surprise all hearers. While
the children were looking at it, it began to pipe.

"I know that tune," cried Richard. " It is 'Coming
through the rye ! "

" And now the tune changes to ' Merrily every bosom
boundeth,' " said Lucy. " What a wonderful little bird ! "

" But how did it learn to whistle these tunes ? " asked
Paul.

Aunt Mary, coming in at that moment, explained to the
children that in some of the small towns of Germany are

AUNT MARYS BULLFINCH.

persons who teach these little birds. It takes about a year
for a bullfinch to learn a tune. But some of them learn
more quickly than others : so it is with some children.

The birds are at first kept in a dark room ; and when
they are fed, a tune is played or whistled. They associate
this tune with the act of feeding ; and gradually seem to
find out what is wanted of them.

The price of a bird that can pipe a tune in good style is
from fifty to one hundred dollars. A good deal of time and

KING DRAKE.

trouble has to be spent in teaching the birds. Sometimes a
child is employed to play a tune on a little hand-organ ; and
this the little bird learns after hearing it many times.

When the bullfinch learns well, he is praised and petted,
and this he seems to enjoy very much. Even birds, you
see, like to be praised and petted.

Dora Burnside.

oJ*Kc

KING DRAKE.

" I'm king of the rock," said a silly old drake ;
" And no one must dare my claim to partake.
I shall punish severely whoever comes near
Without my permission : let all the world hear ! "

But out of the water, on the rock as he stands,
Comes up, as if praying, what seemed like two hands.
" Ah ! here is a subject already for me !
Come, my son, and fear nothing, Til spare you," said he.

KING DRAKE.

But his majesty starts as if from a shock,
When he sees a bisr lobster make a bow on the rock.
" That is well," said the king ; " but consider, my son,
This rock is my throne, and is only for one."

The lobster, however, is slow to obey ;

He spreads himself out ; he will not go away.

" Are you deaf ? " cries King Drake, " go, pigmy ! Get

down !
How dare you thus brave a drake of renown ? "

KING DRAKE.

But the lobster, at this, nips King Drake in the leg.
" Oh, loosen your claw ! Let go ! Oh ! I beg."
Tighter pinches the claw : " Rebellion ! help ! hear !
King Drake is in trouble : is nobody near ? "

In vain are his kicks ; his cries are in vain :

The lobster clings fast, in spite of the pain ;

Nor lets go his hold till they get to the bank :

Then the king waddles home, giving up throne and rank.

From the Germak.

THE POOK MAN'S WELL.

Among the Azores, is situated the beautiful Island of
Fayal, with its orange-groves and profusion of flowers.
But, notwithstanding the fruit and flowers, there is one
thing which Americans who live there miss sadly, and that
is fresh, cool water. There are no lakes or ponds, such
as we have here ; and so the people have to use rain-water,
which they save in large tanks or cisterns.

There are a few wells on the island, which, as the water
rises and falls in them twice in every twenty-four hours,
are called " tide-wells." But there was a time, many years
ago, when the people had neither cisterns nor wells, and
were obliged to get water from hollows in the rocks. And
this is the story of the first well.

The year 1699 was a year when scarcely any rain fell.
The grain did not grow, the cows and sheep died from thirst,
and many of the poor people also. Now there was a very
rich man on the island, who had come here to live many
years before, from another part of the world.

Though he was so rich, and might have done much good
with his money, he was so stingy and so hard, that the
people did not love him at all. But his bags of silver and
gold did not buy him water ; and at last the thought came
to him, " Why ! I will dig a well, as people used to do in
my country. I will dig it on my own land, and no one
shall have a drop of the water but myself."

So he hired men to come and dig the well ; but he paid
them only a little money, and was very unkind to them.
They dug and they dug; but no water came. At last they
said they would work no longer unless their master would
promise them some of the water, and he promised them the
use of the well for half of every day.

THE POOR MAN'S WELL.

Now they dug with more patience ; and one morning, as
early as six o'clock, they suddenly found water. They
claimed the privilege of using the well for the first six
hours ; and the master dared not refuse. As they were
drawing the water, they noticed that it began to grow
lower and lower in the well ; and at twelve o'clock, the
master's hour, none was left.

He was very, very angry, and said he would never give
the men any work again. However, at six o'clock that
night, they again demanded the use of the well. He
mockingly asked them if they expected the water would
come for them, and not for him. Nevertheless they went
to the well ; and, to the master's awe and wonder, it was
full of water.

At midnight, the master again tried to get water from
the well, and, as before, found it empty. He now felt

SPITFIRE.

afraid, believing that some divine power controlled the
action of the water. He went to the church and vowed,
before God, that if the water should come again next
morning, he would dedicate it to the poor forever.

In the morning, when the men visited the well, there
was the fresh water awaiting them. The master kept his
vow, and thus the well became " The Poor Man's Well."
To this day the water rises and falls in it twice in every
twenty-four hours. I give you here a picture of the well,
and should you ever go to Fayal you may see the original.

K. h. s.

oXWc

Can you guess what she was ? She was a little black
kitten ; and I must tell you all about her, and why we gave
her such a funny name. Teddikins had a great mouse-
colored cat called Maltie, and she had three little kitties, —
Spitfire, Miss Tittens, and Cuddle. Spitfire was all black,
just as black as a lump of coal, while Miss Tittens was gray,
and Cuddle was gray and white.

46 SPITFIRE.

The first time Teddikins and 1 looked into the box where
Maltie and her kitties were, they were very, very little, and
their eyes were not open. The black kitty was lying on top
of the others ; and Teddikins put in his little fat hand and
picked her up. What do you suppose she did ? She said,
'' Sptss / " and she kept on saying, " Sptss" until Teddikins
put her down again ; and so we called her Spitfire.

Just as soon as she could see out of her funny little gray
eyes, she began to try to get out of the box. She wanted
to see what there was outside, where Maltie went. She
would climb up a little way, and then tumble back on Miss
Tittens and Cuddle, which would make them say, " Mew,"
and make Teddikins laugh ; but Spitfire always said, "Sptss ! "
and would try again.

At last, one day we heard a thump ; and we looked
around, and there was Spitfire on the floor. She had
climbed to the top of the box, and tumbled over the edge,
and there she stood, with her tail straight in the air, and
her legs wide apart, looking at us, and saying, " Sptss ! "

Maltie was very proud of her kitties, and used to take
Cuddle and Miss Tittens in her mouth, and carry them into
the dining-room when we were eating our breakfast, to
show them to us. But Spitfire would not let her mamma
carry her. She would walk in all alone, tumbling over on
her little nose very often (for her legs were not yet strong),
but carrying her little black tail just as straight as little
boys carry sticks when they call them guns.

One morning, Teddikins put a saucer of milk on the floor
and what do you suppose that little Spitfire did ? Why,
she looked at it very hard, and then she said, k* Sptss," and
walked right into the milk, and out the other side of the
saucer, with Tittens and Cuddle after her. The floor was
covered with the funny white prints of their little paws.

SPITFIRE. 47

One day a mouse ran across the kitchen ; and Cuddle and
Tittens were very much frightened ; but Spitfire humped
up her back, and made her tail very big, and said " Sj)tss ! "
very hard, and then cantered off sideways staring at the
mouse, and saying, " Sptssl " all the time.

You know how kitties like to go to sleep, all cuddled up
together. But Spitfire would not lie down with the others :
she always tried to get on top of them.

When the little kitties were quite strong, they used to
play a funny sort of game. There was a round foot-stool,
covered with carpet, and Spitfire used to sit up on it, and
then Cuddle and Miss Tittens would try to climb up the
sides. Then Spitfire would say, " SjJtss ! " and pat them on
the heads with her little paws until they rolled down again.
Sometimes, when she was busy driving one off, another
would get up behind her, and drive her off too ; but she
always worked hard until she was up again.

Do you not think she was a funny kitty ? She always
went first, and took the lead, and used to box the ears of
Cuddle and Tittens when they did not mind her. Now she
is a big black cat, with a red collar around her neck, and
she catches rats and mice, and is very good and useful.
She only says, " Sptss ! " when strange cats come into her
yard ; but we still call her Spitfire. E. F#

THE COSSET-CALF.

When I was quite a little girl

I had a cosset-calf,
And, when it ran about the fields,

It always made me laugh.

It seemed as gentle as a lamb,
And from my hand was fed ;

And how I grieved when first I felt
The horns upon its head !

It always answered to my call,
And thrust its wet nose through

The bars, and tried its very best
To say, " How do you do ? "

I left it in the early fall,

And kissed my pet with tears ;
For to a little child the months

Stretch out as long as years.

And when the summer came again.

I never shall forget
With what dismay I gazed upon

My former little pet.

I was afraid of those great horns,

So crooked on its brow,
Nor would believe my little calf

Was that enormous cow !

But soon I learned to know its face
And conquered my alarm,

And thought there was no nicer cow
On any other farm.

And oh the rich sweet milk she gave !

Why, just to make me laugh,
My mother used to call me then

Her little cosset-calf !

JOSIiPHIXE POLLAKD.

*8<c

PRIMER AND SLATE.

Primer and slate, primer and slate !

Hurry up, mother ! I fear I am late.

A, B, C, D, and i, 2, 3, 4,

Must be studied, so I can recite them once more.

Primer and slate, primer and slate,

Must be carefully conned if we hope to be great :

A man cannot hope much of a man to be,

Unless, when a boy, he has learned A, B, C.

U>"CLE TlIKO.

TO J, XXII. -xo. 2

DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR,

"GREAT I AND LITTLE YOU."

" How do you like that little new neighbor of yours ? "
asked Herbert Greene's big brother, who had seen the two
little boys playing together in the yard.

" Oh, you must mean Georgie Worthman," said Herbie.
" Why, I don't know. I like him, and I don't like him."

Wallace laughed. " Then you quarrel a little some-
times," said he. " Is that it ? "

" No, we don't quarrel," said Herbie. " I don't let him
know when I'm mad with him."

" What does he do to make you mad with him?" asked
Wallace.

" Oh, he says things," said Herbie.

" Such as what ? "

" Well, he looks at my marbles, and says, ' Is that all
you've got ? I have five times as many as that, — splendid
ones, too. They'd knock those all to smash.'

" Ah, I see ! " said Wallace. "It is a clear case of ' great
I and little you.'

" What do you mean by that ? " said Herbie.

" Well, if you don't find out by Saturday night, I'll tell
you," said Wallace. This was on Monday.

On Wednesday afternoon Herbie was out at play, and
presently Georgie Worthman came out. Wallace was in
his room, reading, with the windows open, and could hear
all that was said.

Georgie brought his kite with him, and asked Herbie if
he would go to the common with him to fly his kite.

"Oh, yes! if mother is willing," said Herbie. "But
where did you get that kite ? — made it yourself, didn't
you? I've got one ever so much bigger than that, with

"GREAT I AND LITTLE YOU.

yards and yards of tail, and, when we let it out, it goes out
of sight quick, — now, I tell you ! "

" This isn't the best I can make," said Georgie ; " but if
I had a bigger one I couldn't pitch it, or hold it after it
was up."

" Pooh ! I could hold one that pulled like ten horses,"
said Herbie ; and he ran in to ask his mother if he could go
with Georgie to the common.

His mother was willing if Wallace would go too ; and so,
after a little good-natured bothering, and pretending he did
not want to go, Wallace took his hat, and Herbie got his
kite and twine, and the three boys set off for the common.

Georgie's kite was pitched first, and went up in fine style.
Then Herbie's went off, and soon passed it, for it had a
longer string ; and both were far up in the dazzling blue of
the sky.

52 "GREAT 1 AND LITTLE YOU."

" There now ! " said Herbie, " didn't I tell you my kite
would beat yours all to nothing ? I bet there isn't another
kite in town that will begin to be a match for it ! "

" How is this ? How is this ? " said Wallace. " Seems to
me ' great I and little you ' are around here pretty thick."

" What do you mean by that?" said both the little boys.

" Why, when a fellow says that he has got the best
marbles, and the best kite, and the swiftest sled, and the
handsomest velocipede, and the most knowing dog, any-
where in town, we say his talk is all ' great I and little
you.'' That is, we mean he is always bragging; and a
braggart is a very disagreeable person," said Wallace.

Herbie looked at Georgie, and both blushed a little. The
boys had great fun with their kites; and when they got
home, and Wallace and Herbie went up stairs to put away
the kite, Herbie said, " Well, my kite did beat Georgie's,
just as I told him it would."

" That is true," said Wallace ; " but you said the other
day that you liked Georgie, and didn't like him, because
he was always telling how much bigger and better his
things were than }^ours; and now, to-day, you were making
yourself disagreeable to him by bragging about your kite.
Now, if you want the boys to like you, my lad, you must
give up talking ' great I and little you,' for it is not sensible
nor kind."

So Herbie found out what Wallace meant, and he said to
himself, " I don't mean to let the fellows hear me talking.
great I and little vou ' anv more."

OUR DOG TASSO.

Tasso is a big black dog. His back comes up almost to
the top of a dining-table. He does not look as though he
could ever have been carried about in a handkerchief ; but,
when he was a puppy, he was brought home in that way
by a young lady as a present to her brothers.

54 MAKING CHEESES.

Tasso seems to take delight in making himself useful.
When there is work to be done, he always wants to do his
part. He brings in wood, stick by stick, and puts it in the
wood-box, never stopping till the box is full. While he
is carrying in the wood, the boys fill the chip-basket ; and
then Tasso takes that in his mouth, and puts it in its place
beside the wood-box.

If any of the family has a basket or a bag to take to the
station, Tasso always insists on taking it. One rainy day,
we sent him to the station with three umbrellas, and he
delivered them all safely. One day his master went out to
the barn without his hat. Tasso did not think this was
proper : so he took the hat in his mouth and carried it out
to him.

I could tell you many other amusing things about Tasso.
He is always attentive and obedient, and every one who
knows him loves him and trusts him. F. A. s.

oJ*ic

MAKING CHEESES.

" Does the little fairy
Work in a dairy?
I hear her talk about making cheese, —
She with her locks the color of money,
Hanging long and crinkled and sunny
Down to her waist, — a golden fleece."

Oh, such a laughter
As rings out after
My words, is the sweetest sound I know !

MAKING CHEESES.

Sparkle the eyes that had been dreaming
" Aunty dear, if you want to see me,
I'll show you how to make one, — so ! "

Soon as she utters
This, out she flutters,
Her full fresh frock as white as the snows ;
Round she whirls, and then in a minute
Sits down quick, and the air within it
Puffs it out like a full-blown rose.

That's what she pleases
To call " making cheeses."
I'm sure I could give it a better name.
Call it playing at daffy-down-dilly,
Call it playing at white day-lily :
Either will suit me just the same.

56 MY PETS.

Lily for brightness
She is, and for whiteness ;
A golden centre her long locks grow !

And isn't that head, so shimmering, sunny,
Daffy-down-dilly-like, yellow as money ? —
Rogue she is anyway, that I know.

Mrs. Clara Doty Batf.s.

o>«c

MY PETS.

I am a little girl seven years old. I live way up in the
woods of Maine, in the little town of Howland, forty miles
from anywhere. Now you may wonder how I can amuse
myself, so far away from the world : so I am going to tell
you.

I live on a great farm, with grandpapa, Aunt Peeps, and
Nan. and Will. I have a pair of top-boots, so I can play
out doors in wet weather. I was glad when grandpapa
brought them home ; and the first thing; I did was to find
a good large mud-puddle, and oh ! didn't I have fun, splash-
ing right through it !

I drive old Frank whenever I please ; and then, when we
get home, I feed him on apples and bread. He is twenty-
years old, and has no teeth to eat hay with, and grandpapa
says he would starve to death if it were not for me.

We let him go wherever he likes, and in hot weather he
stays on the barn-floor, out of the reach of the flies, most of
the time. He lets me card him, and he never kicks me.
One day last summer, Emma and I got old Frank upon a
haymow, about four feet from the floor, and there he lay
down on his side, and took a nap. Then I brought out a

MY PUTS.

pan of meal and water, and fed it to him with an iron
spoon.

I have an old pet sheep too. It will run out from the
flock any time when it sees me coming, and follow me to
the house. One day I heard a noise against the kitchen-
door, and, when I opened it, my sheep came in, and followed
me right into the dining-room, and would not go out till I
gave it some potatoes.

Major and Velvet Paw are my pet cats, and Peep is my
German canary-bird ; and I had a pet chicken, but grand-
papa stepped on it one day. He says he would rather have
lost the best cow in the barn than have killed my chicken.
William says he will give me four eggs in the spring, and
then, perhaps, I can have four chickens instead of one.

I have a bear, — a black, fierce-eyed bear, that gnashes
his teeth, and growls, and stands up and shakes his paws at

58 MY PETS.

me ; but he is not a real live bear. He has to be wound
up with a key before he will growl. We have live bears
here in the woods, though : they come right into our yard,
and eat our sheep. We set a trap for one last fall, close to
the house, and a bear was caught in it.

I have a wax doll almost as large as a real baby. I have
named it Gretchen. Cousin Mary brought it to me from
Germany. It has flaxen curls, and six of the prettiest little
pearl teeth, and it goes to sleep, and says papa and mamma,
and whines, and cries. I wonder if any of you little girls
have such a beautiful dolly.

My doll, Rosie Deben, is six years old, and almost as
large as I am. I wash her whenever I like, and about once
a year Auntie Peeps paints her face over. I like Eosie for
an every-day doll, because I can wash her hands and face,
and undress her, and if she tumbles out of her wagon it only
bumps her head, and bruises her nose. She has tumbled
down stairs ever so many times.

I have no little girls to play with ; but there is a little
boy who comes to see me sometimes : his name is Percy,
and we go fishing down at the brook, and we catch little
bits of fish with pin hooks.

I went to school last summer, and read in my "Nursery,"
and Nan said I learned nicely. There were only four
scholars, — one for each corner of the room ; and we had a
little rocking-chair to sit in.

Nan thinks I have told you enough about my pets this
time, and I will bid you good-by. MAMIE,

DRILLING THE TROOPS.

Heee is Corporal Hans drilling a squad under the eye of
his superior officer, Captain Ernest. The corporal is a
brave soldier. Anybody could tell that by his looks. But
he does not give his orders quite sternly enough to suit the
captain, who is teaching him how to do it-
It makes a man of peace shudder to see the corporal
stand so calmly right at the mouth of a cannon. What if
the cannon should go off ! But these military men get used
to such things. I don't suppose now that one of that whole
squad could be frightened into running away. They will
not move till they hear the word of command.

Uncle Sam.

THE PICTURE-BOOK.

In the book that Mary likes
so much to look at, there is a
nice picture of a horse. Here

it is.

The horse
has a very
long tail and
also a long
thick mane.
He stands
very quietly
in his stall,
turning his
head around, as if he were in
want of some more hay. If he
should ask for it, what would
he say? Little Mary says he
would say, "Neigh ! "

THE PICTURE-BOOK.

The next picture shows us
two donkeys,— an old one and
a young one. They have very
long ears, and look as if they
might hear
all that we
say.

The worst
we can sav
of them or
their race is
that they are
homely, and
not so fleet
as the horse. But they are
very tough and strong and
patient.

If the donkey should hear
this, perhaps he would open his
mouth and say, " Bray!"

A. B. C.

A BLACKSMITH'S SONG.

Clang, cling, clang, cling!
Bellows, you must roar, and anvil, you must ring;
Hammer, you and I must work — for ding, dong, ding
Must dress my Kate and baby, and bread for us must
bring.

So dong, ding, dong, ding !
Anvil, to my hammer make music while I sing, —

Clang, cling, clang, cling !

Clang, cling, clang, cling!
Oh, well I love my smithy when the birds in spring-time

sing,
And the pleasant sun comes streaming in, the sun that

loves to bring

VOL. XXII.— NO. 3

INTRODUCED TO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.

HJ^OW for it, girls ! Let me introduce you to the
Atlantic Ocean ! Mr. Ocean, these are my
three cousins from Kentucky : Miss Jenny,
Miss Eva, and Miss Kate Logan. They never
saw you till to-day. This lady on my left is
my sister, Miss Dora Drake, the best swimmer at Brant Rock
Beach ; but her you know already, also my dog Andy."

" Oh ! I don't want to go any further. I'm afraid of
the Atlantic Ocean," cried little Kate Logan.

"Nonsense! " said Master Tom Drake. " Look at Andy
with the stick in his mouth. Why, if the Atlantic Ocean
were to try to drown us, Andy would save us every one.
Shall I tell you what he did last summer ? "

" We can't stop for stories now, Tom," said sister Dora.
" We must attend to our bathing. Here comes a wave that
will give us a good ducking."

"Oh! oh, dear! It has taken my breath all away!"
cried little Kate, as the wave lifted her on0 her feet and
curled and gurgled round her neck.

" It is only the Atlantic Ocean making a bow to you, my
dear ; clasping you lovingly round the neck, and whisper-
ing soft nonsense," said Tom, dropping the hands of Eva
and Kate, and swimming off into deep water with Andy.

Jenny and Eva did not know how to swim : so they
jumped up and down in the water, while Dora took Kate
on her back, and swam out after Tom. She soon overtook
him and pushed his head under water ; but Tom came up
light as a cork, and splashed the water all over Dora.

" That will do, Tom," said she ; " now, Andy, come here,
and take this little girl on your back and carry her up on
the drv sand."

INTRODUCED TO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. 67

Then Dora placed Kate on the good dog's back, and the
little girl threw her arms round his neck, and he swam with
her through the deep water, and carried her up high on the
dry, warm sand, where a lady and gentleman were seated,
and another lady stood with a sun-shade over her head.

But when Kate saw Tom and the girls all frolicking in
the water, she cried out, " Oh, give me more of the Atlantic
Ocean. I like him."

She ran down to the water's edge, and into the water all
alone ; but Andy stood by to help her in case of need, and
when she fell down flat, and the ocean covered her head, he
took her up by her bathing-dress, and bore her once more
up on the dry sand.

All laughed, and little Kate laughed louder than any of
them. " The Atlantic Ocean didn't get me that time," she
said.

I cannot tell you of all their frolics ; but you may be sure
that the little party from Kentucky grew quite familiar with
the Atlantic Ocean after this introduction. Every day they
would leave their little cottage on the height, and walk
along the white sand in their bathing-dresses till they found
a good place for bathing. Tom and Andy always went "w ith
them to protect them from harm.

When Jenny, Eva, and Kate get back to Kentucky, n ^xt
September, what stories they will have to tell of the pleasant
times they had at Brant Rock Beach ! It lies not far from
the town of Marshfield in Massachusetts. Perhaps you can
find the name on your map. lDA FAV.

What sort of insects are a-phi'des ?

In plain English they are plant-lice.

When about to pluck a rose-bud, have

you not started sometimes to find it covered with

little green insects? These are aphides.

They suck the sap from the bud on the leaf ;
and every person who raises a rose-bush seeks to
get rid of them. The little insect called the lady-
bird destroys them in great numbers : so you
J^must encourage lady-birds, if you want your roses
to flourish.

Most of us have heard of honey-dew, and know,
probably, that it is a sweet, clammy substance,
found on the leaves of various trees and plants,
especially on the oak, the vine, the hop, and the
honeysuckle. This honey-dew is extracted with
the sap, secreted, and then thrown out in a pure state by
the aphides.

ROSES AND INSECTS. 69

Besides the sweets which they scatter around them like
sugar-plums, they always keep a good supply within the
green jars of their bodies. By this lavish use of confection-
ery, they gain a few interested friends and some enemies
like the lady-birds, that eat them up.

Wherever the aphides abound, whether in hop-ground,
bean-field, or rose-garden, there are lady-birds gathered
together, and they are welcomed by the cultivator, if not
by the aphis. (Aphis is the singular noun, and aphides its
plural form.) But enough of aphis enemies, and now for
the friends, which, as well as foes, they owe to the sweet
milk — the honey-dew — which they give out. So these
friends, you see, are fair-weather friends, interested friends ;
and among them are several varieties of the ant tribe.

The ants do not hurt the aphides, but follow them for
what they can get out of them. They are continually seen
in company ; and the ants sometimes drive off the lady-
birds and other foes.

The aphis, when attacked by its mortal foe the lady-
bird, submits with a good grace. Never did Turk bend
his neck to the bow-string, or rush upon the cimeter
with greater courage, than the aphis submits itself to the
murderous jaws of its devouring foes. It seems quite at
ease, and enjoys life to the last bite or sup, while its com-
panions are being killed, and their carcasses heaped up
around it. It evidently thinks it is right to die quietly, like
a great-minded little insect. UirctE Charles.

TOP-KNOT.

Pretty Biddy Top-knot has a hidden nest,

Out among the willows stretching toward the west :

Every day she runs there on her yellow legs,

To count and add another to her store of eggs.

Top-knot soon is missing from the garden walks :
No more with the other hens struts about and stalks !
No more is her cackle from the willows heard,
Where, but late, she noisily all the barn-yard stirred.

Down among the willows, stretching toward the west,
Top-knots snowy turban shows above her nest :
Slanting ray of sunshine peeps in very bright ;
Come and peep in with it, you shall see a sight.

Thirteen little chickens, downiest ever seen,
And joyous little Top-knot proud as any queen !
For that they are beauties all the hens agree :
Can you wonder Top-knot should so happy be ?

Full of her importance, Top-knot doth appear, —
Thirteen little chickens she must feed and rear !
Soon more hens are missing ! — are they lost or hid ?
Think you they'll surprise us just as Top-knot did ?

70 Fleta F.

GARRY AND THE RAKE.

Oxe summer afternoon, when the grassy slope before the
house was untidy with fallen leaves, and sticks, and withered
flowers, I asked Garry to go and bring the rake that we
might clear away the rubbish.

So off he ran, and soon came back with an iron rake.
Now, if you have ever tried one, you will know that an iron
rake is not nearly as good for this purpose as a wooden
rake, as it is heavy, and the teeth are so sharp that they
tear the roots of the grass.

I used it for a while ; but, in spite of all I could do, the
teeth would catch the roots. At last Garry exclaimed,
" Grandma, let me take it. I can make it all right."

I gave it to him, and the dear little boy took it behind a
log, and was very busy and quiet for several minutes. Then
I called, " Come, Garry, I don't believe you can help it."

72 CROSSING THE BROOK WITH HARRY.

" Oh ! " said he, "you just wait a little, and you will see."
And, to be sure, in a very short time he brought me the
rake, with a hard green apple on each outer tooth, pushed
on just so far that the other teeth would catch the litter of
leaves and sticks without disturbing the grass.

Wasn't that a bright idea for a little boy five and a half
years old? Mi

CROSSING THE BROOK WITH HARRY,

Now, Harry, don't fear,

I will carry you, dear :
So keep very quiet and steady:

The brook is not wide,

Nor swift is the tide :
Now, for it, my pet — are you ready ?

So over the stones we will go,

With step very careful and slow,

I never have slipped
As o'er them I tripped ;

But then I had nothing to carry:
Now I must take heed,
The more haste, the worse speed ;

For I bear in my arms little Harry :
So over the stones we will go,
With step very careful and slow.

Almost every bird
That ever I heard,
On the bank there seems now to be singing;

CEOS SING THE BROOK WITH HARRY.

And I smell the sweet hay
From the field by the way ;
The wind all its odor is bringing :
So over the stones we will go,
With step very careful and slow.

Emily Carter.

A TRUE STORY OF A PARTRIDGE.

I wonder if any of the
children who read " The
Nursery " have ever been
in the woods of Maine.
There grow the tall old
pine-trees, with tops which
, seem to touch the sky, and
thick interlacing branches,
making a very dark shade
overhead.

There, too, grow the
fragrant cedar-trees, with
their bright green boughs,
and trunks so hard and
stout; and, loveliest of
all, the graceful maple,
whose green leaves turn crimson and gold when autumn
comes.

All these and many other trees grow in the great Maine
forests ; and birds build their nests and bring up their .young
among the branches ; and under the trees, and all about,
grow ferns, and mosses soft as velvet.

Bright-eyed squirrels frisk about over the ground, and
run nimbly up into the tree-tops ; and pretty brown par-
tridges walk daintily around, picking up seeds and berries
to carry home to their baby-partridges, hidden away in soft
nests on the ground.

Through a forest like this, where it had always been so
quiet and peaceful that the birds and squirrels did not know
what it was to be afraid, a railroad-track was laid not long
ago. Then the great engine went thundering on its way to

A TRUE STORY OF A PARTRIDGE.

a pleasant city by the sea, carrying with it a long train
of cars, the smoke curling up brown and thick from the
smoke-stack, and the shrill whistle waking the echoes among
the distant hills.

One day, when the train was going at full speed through
the woods, a partridge, flying from one part of the forest to
another, being frightened and bewildered by the noise,
dashed against the smoke-stack, and fell at the engineer's
feet. The engineer, whose name was Nathaniel Grant,
took up the poor frightened bird, gently stroked its ruffled
feathers, and carried it carefully to his home.

There the partridge was treated with the greatest kind-
ness, and soon got over its bruises. But it longed for the
quiet woods, where its life had been spent. It could not
eat, and seemed to be almost breaking its heart with home-
sickness.

So the next day, when Mr. Grant started off again on the
engine, he took the bird with him. Watching very care-
fully for the place where the partridge had flown in, he
found, at last, the exact spot. There he set the bird free,
and away it flew, back to its peaceful home, doka's mamma.

:>>*4c

A LETTER FROM MINNESOTA.

When " The Nursery " came the
other day to St. Paul, two little boys
who live here, named Charley and
John, found a story in it about a
bear who used to walk in our streets.
That story was true ; and these little boys were so pleased
with it, that they want me to write you about a new pet
they have.

It isn't a kitty with nice soft fur, nor a dog that will run
and jump and play with them, nor a canary-bird to wake
them up with his sweet songs ; but it is a turtle, which the
boys found trying to get across the street near their home.

John, who is three years old, said, " I guess the poor little
turtle is lost, and is trying to find his mamma again." So
he picked him up, when away went his head, legs, and tail,
all tucked under his shell. He looked like a box shut
almost tight. When he was put in the water, out they came
again.

He spends the whole day trying to climb the sides of the
smooth pan he is in, slipping back, and trying again. We
put in a large shell to serve him for a house ; and one day
he climbed to the top of it, got out of his pan, and crawled
over the carpet into the next room. So we had to take his
house away.

I think we shall have to name him Willie Winkie, because
he opens and shuts his eyes so often and so quickly.

Charley and John have the promise of a garden all to
themselves when summer comes here. Perhaps by and by,
we will tell the other children who read " The Nursery,"
how they get on with it, and what kinds of flowers they

raise.

c. r. s.

St. Paul, Minn. 76

THE LAZY SHEPHERD.

Some years ago in Scotland, two boys, whose names were
Henry Bright and John Yorner, were left orphans by the
death of parents Mr. Donald, a good man, who had nine
or ten thousand sheep, and employed many shepherds, took
both these boys into his employ.

" Now, boys," said he, " a shepherd's life may be barren
or fruitful, lazy or active, just as you choose to make it. In
pleasant weather, while you are tending the sheep, if you
have good dogs to help you, you can, if you choose, find

78 THE LAZY SHEPHERD.

leisure for reading and for study, and at the same time not
neglect your proper duties.

" If you want books, come to my house, and I will lend
them to you. You have eight years to serve before you
are twenty-one ; and in that time you can fit yourselves for
employments that will yield you much more than the work
of a shepherd."

Henry Bright first suited himself to a good dog, and
taught him so well, that Plato — such was the dog's name
— soon took almost the whole care of a hundred sheep that
Henry had to look after. The lad would take a seat under
the shelter of some rock, and read and study, while Plato
would lie at his feet, or run round to see that no sheep or
lamb was straying too far from the pasture-ground.

But John Yorner was lazy, and did not care for books.
He would not take the trouble even to teach a doo; his
duties. He would lie on a bank in the sun, with his hands
clasped above his head, and there sleep away the long hours
before dinner. Often his sheep would stray away and get
lost; so that Mr. Donald once said to him, " I fear you are
not fit even for a shepherd, John."

You may easily guess what the result was at the end of
eight years. John Yorner was a shepherd still: he had not
been promoted to any better employment. He loved idle-
ness too well. One must be diligent if he would be faithful
and succeed.

As for Henry, he applied himself to the study of arith-
metic, and became so skilled in that branch of study, that,
before he was nineteen, his services were wanted by a large
mercantile house in Glasgow. There he made himself so
useful, that his success became no longer a matter of doubt.

Oh the days of youth, how precious they are ! Do not
be like the lazy shepherd, my little friends ! Uncle ChAbLEs.

SEVENTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

You all know that the sun comes to us in the morning,
and goes away from us at night, and you say that it rises
and sets. Does it rise and set in the same place ?

I know that is a foolish question to ask any child who
lives with his eyes open. You all know, of course, that it
rises opposite to where it went down the night before, and
takes all day to cross the sky to its setting-place again.
And you know it rises in the east, and sets in the west.

But do you know that most of the stars, too, rise and set
in this same way ? Those of you who are old enough to be
up when the stars are out can see for yourselves that this
is so. You can see some stars rise, and some set, if there is
nothing in your way, and you patiently watch ; or you can
pick out a particular star, and notice just where it is, and
then, if you look for it later, you will see that it appears to
have moved.

All night long, and all day too, only we cannot see them
in the sunlight, stars are rising, crossing the sky, and setting,
the same stars coming up a little earlier each day. But
there are some stars which neither rise nor set, and these I
will tell you about some other time.

Now, after all this that I have said about the rising and
setting of the sun and stars, you will be surprised to learn
that, so far as we can see, they never move at all. The
planets — and our earth among them — move around the
sun ; but the sun stands still ; and all the stars which are
suns, shine always in the same place, and are hence called
fixed stars. How, then, can they be said to rise and set ?

I will try to explain this in the next lesson. In the mean-
time you had better read again what I told you about the
planets in the second lesson. M. E. K.

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A SIGHT OF THE OCEAN.

" Oh, what I would give for a sight of the ocean ! " said
Ruth Turner, as she sat one hot day in June in their little
parlor, with her two sisters and their mother.

" We must content ourselves in the city this summer,"
said Mrs. Turner. " What with the great fire, and the
stagnation of trade, your father has lost so much money
that we cannot afford to hire a cottage by the sea-side
this year."

" Well, we must try to make home pleasant," said little
Anna, whose pale, pinched face showed that the pent air of
the city had already begun to affect her health.

" Let us all shut our eyes, and imagine ourselves on the
beach," said Ellen, who was the poetess of the family.

At that moment, the postman's knock at the door gave
promise of a letter. Ruth ran to get it, and, returning in a

VOL. XXII.— NO. 3.

82 A SIGHT OF THE OCEAN.

moment, handed her mother a note, and said, " It is from
that ugly, fat old Mr. Jenks, the grocer: his name is on
the back. What can he want ? "

" Give me the letter, child," said Mrs. Turner ; " and do
not let me hear you speak of any fellow-being with con-
tempt, because he is ugly, fat, or old. Mr. Jenks is all the
time doing kind things. I am sorry to hear that his wife
is ill."

Mrs. Turner opened the letter, read it, and said, while
her face flushed, " Hear this, Miss Ruth, you who were so
quick to speak ill of Mr. Jenks : —

" Deak Mrs. Turner, — Wife and I have concluded to
take the next steamer for England, not to be back till next
October. You and your honest husband must at once go
down with your family, and occupy my furnished cottage at
Crescent Beach. Cellar and store-closet are well stocked
with groceries. Use and consume every thing as if it were
your own. Don't say no, but send me round word that you
will do it. I don't like to leave the cottage empty."

Ruth ran to a corner of the room, turned her face to the
wall, and covered it with her hands.

" Handsome is, that handsome does, Miss Ruth," cried
little Anna.

" Well, Ruth, shall we accept the invitation ? " said her
mother.

" On one condition," said Ruth, turning round ; " and that
is, that you let me go and thank Mr. Jenks myself for his
great kindness. He is not old ; he is not ugly ; and, if he
is fat, so much the better."

The good grocer's offer was gratefully accepted. The
little girls now pass most of the summer days on the beach,
where they pick up shells, and pretty white stones, or bathe
in the salt ocean. Every morning brings fresh delights.

RUTH'S WISHES.

Anna has rosy cheeks once more, and as for Ellen, she sits
on the rocks, and sketches, or writes poetry, every day.

Ruth has broken herself of the bad habit of speaking ill
of persons because of their looks. She knows now that a
man may be " old, fat, and ugly," and at the same time be
full of love and kindness.

DOBA BUKNSIDE.

aXKc

RUTH'S WISHES.

" I'd like to be now
A bird on a bough,"
Said Ruth, one hot day
As she paused in her play
" I'd like to be now
A bird on a bough.

84 RUTH'S WISHES.

" To be like a fish

In the sea is my wish,

Where the water is cool,

And they go to no school :

To be like a fish

In the sea is my wish.

" A squirrel I'd be
High up on a tree ;
For he can go where
He gets plenty of air:
A squirrel I'd be
High up on a tree.

" A stag in a wood

I'd be, if I could:

He can lie on the ground

Where 'tis cool all around:

A stag in a wood

I'd be, if I could."

So wished, in her folly,
Ruth, holding her dolly ;
The heat of the noon
Put her all out of tune :
So wished, in her folly,
Ruth, holding her dolly.

Emily Carter.

PHILIP'S NEW WHIP.

Now, what is all this noise
about? The hens cackle and
run about. The pig squeals.

86 PHILIP'S NEW WHIP.

Over the fence flies the old
gander, and after him flies the
goose. Now, what can be the
matter ?

I will tell you. It all comes
from this: our little Philip has
had a present of a new whip;
and the first thing he does with
it is to see how his friends in
the barn-yard like it.

He does not like to try it on
the horse or on the cow; for
the horse can kick, and the cow
can hook with her horns. So,
like a little coward, he frightens
the hens, and the poor geese,
and the pig, shut up in his pen.

I do not think it right. We
ought to protect the weak, and
not try to scare or hurt them.

A. B. C.

THE THREE LITTLE LADIES.

Now, who can find out

What these three little ones are about ?

Very busy, you see,

They all seem to be ;

But what they are doing,

What work or what pleasure pursuing,

Is more than my wisdom can tell :

And are not you puzzled as well ?

One little lady is standing

On a cricket in posture commanding ;

Another is pulling out pieces

From a drawer as fast as she pleases ;

Another is bearing a roll —

But what for ? It is all very droll.

And pray what is pussy about ?

She joins in the frolic, no doubt.

88 GRANDMA'S STORY.

These three little ladies, my dear,
Know what they're about : that is clear.
'Tis something important, you see,
Though a puzzle to you and to me ;
For they each look as grave as a judge :
So, old folks, don't laugh, and cry, " Fudge ! "
It may be that your own great affairs
Are not any more useful than theirs.

Alfkkd Sklwyn.

GRANDMA'S STORY.

I am only five years old; but I have a great deal of
trouble. Papa pulls my ears, and calls me a sad rogue ;
brother Tom asks me every night what new mischief I have
been up to to-day ; and poor mamma sighs, and says I am
the most troublesome child she ever saw.

But dear good grandma looks up from her knitting, and
smiles as she says, " Tut, tut, daughter ! Our Amy isn't
any worse than a little girl I knew some thirty years ago."

" 0 grandma ! " cried I one day, " do please tell me about
her ; for I like to hear about naughty little girls. What
was her name, grandma ? "

Grandma looked over her spectacles at mamma and
smiled, and mamma nodded and smiled back. Then grand-
ma said, " I think I will tell you of one of little Clara's
capers ; but mind, you are not to go and do the same thing
the first chance you get."

This is the story as grandmother told it, —

, " Little Clara lived on a farm away out in the country. She was the
youngest of seven children, and a great pet, of course. But Clara's little

GRANDMA'S STORY.

restless feet and mischievous fingers often brought her into trouble and
disgrace.

" One day Clara's mother had occasion to go to the store, which was
three miles away. Clara wanted to go too. Her mother feared she
would be in the way, and looked doubtful ; but big brother Ben said,
' Let her go, mother. She'll be good, I know.'

" ' Yes ; let her go,' said Susan, who was trying to net a bead purse,
and keep Clara's fingers out of her box of beads at the same time.

" ' Do let her go ! ' said Roger. ' I want to rig my ship this after-
noon ; and a fellow can't do much with her around.'

" So it was decided that Clara should go ; and it was the work of but
a few moments to polish up the chubby face and hands, and brush the
curly hair. The pink dress, red shoes, and white sun-bonnet, were put
on as quickly as possible, and Clara was ready.

" 'Now,- do try to behave yourself, child,' said Susan, as Ben lifted
the little girl into the wagon.

" ' Of course I will,' replied Clara, pouting her red lips.

" ' But did she behave herself ? ' you ask. Ah ! I will tell you.
" When they reached the store, Mr. Dale, the storekeeper, came out

GRANDMA'S STORY.

to assist them ; and, as he helped Clara out of the wagon, he called her
' a little lady,' which made her feel all of two inches taller than usual.
Then he gave her a stick of candy, and lifted her to a seat on the
counter, close beside a dear old pussy-cat, who purred loudly as the little
girl smoothed her fur.

" Clara's mother had a good many things to buy, and very soon forgot
all about her little daughter ; but when Ben came in, half an hour later,
his first question was, ' Where's Clara, mother ? '

"Sure enough, where was Clara? Her seat was empty. She had
disappeared. 'Clara, Clara!' called both her mother and Ben; but
there was no answer.

" ' She's in some mischief,' said Ben ; and, as quick as thought, he
rushed into the back part of the store, followed by his mother and Mr.
Dale. What a sight met their eyes ! There stood Clara, in the centre
of the room, stepping back slowly, as a pool of molasses, streaming
steadily from a hogshead in the corner, crept towards the toes of her
little red shoes. Ben caught up Clara as quick as a flash, and "

" No, grandma," interrupted mamma, " it was Mr. Dale
who did that, while Ben made haste to turn the faucet to
prevent further mischief."

" Why, mamma," said I, " how do you know? Were you
there ? "

" I heard about it," said she ; and she and grandma both
smiled. " The little girl was just my age, and I knew her
very well."

"And your names were both Clara," said I. "How
queer ! "

And mamma and grandma must have thought it queer,
too ; for they both laughed heartily. F A< Bi

AUNT MATILDA.

What should we do in our house if it were not for our
Aunt Matilda? She is the first one out of bed in the
morning, and the last one to go to bed at night. She
sees that things are right in the kitchen, and right in the
parlor.

Father wants his breakfast by half -past six o'clock this
summer weather. Aunt Matilda rises before five, and calls
the girls, and sees that the rooms are in order. Then she
calls the children to be washed and dressed.

Yes, that is a good likeness of her, as you see her comb-
ing my hair. She is not young, you perceive, nor yet very
old. Sometimes I get a little impatient, and fidget, because

92 ANNA'S BIRD.

she is so particular ; but our quarrels always end in my kiss-
ing her, and saying, " You are a darling Aunty, after all."

Mother is an invalid : so she cannot do much house-work,
or see to the children. But Aunt Matilda is mother, aunt,
and house-maid, all in one. Sometimes she even acts as
stable-boy, and harnesses the horse to the carryall ; for
there are few things that Aunty does not know how to do,
and to do well.

Do we go to school ? Yes, and no. Our only school is
one that Aunt Matilda keeps for us in the library. She
teaches us to read, to write, and to draw. She can play on
the piano, and has begun to teach me music. Oh ! What
should we all do without Aunt Matilda ? Miss MAUD.

oi*{c

ANNA'S BIRD.

Anna has a little bird, and she calls it Tot. You must
try to find out from the picture what sort of a bird it is.
It can sing and play ; and it is so tame, that it will put its
bill between Anna's lips when she says, " Kiss me, Tot."

Her dog Fancy is quite fond of the bird, and will let it
light on his head ; and Anna is trying to make Muff, the
cat, give up her habit of killing birds. But I hope that
Anna will be careful, and not trust Muff too far.

I have heard of a cat in a bird-shop, that was trained to
take care of birds, instead of harming them ; but this is a
rare case. It is hard to keep a cat from catching birds, and
from troubling the little young ones in their nests.

Anna is so fond of Tot, that she will not let a cat come
into the room where he is. Tot can whistle a tune. He
likes to light on Anna's head, and will sometimes almost

ANNA'S BIRD.

-. - r. " ^ ^ • . . •

hide himself under her thick hair. She feeds him, and gives
him a bath every day, and lets him fly about the room.

If Tot were to fly out of the window, I think he would
try to get back to his own little cage, so fond is he of Anna.

Asxa's AUJfT.

THE STORY OF THE SQUASHES.

I know of two little boys, twin-brothers, who are just five
years old. They are so nearly alike that their best friends
can scarcely tell them apart. Sturdy little men they are ;
so strong and fair and stout, that I should be glad to kiss
them even when they have come from the dirtiest depths
of their mud-pies. I fancy their mother sighs often over
their torn pantaloons, their battered hats, and their soiled
boots; but for all that, they must play, and things will
wear out.

One day in the fall, their papa sent up to the house a
farmer's wagon full of great beautiful squashes, to be put
into the cellar for the winter's use. The farmer put the
squashes on the ground close by the cellar-door ready for
storage. But, when their papa came home, the squashes
had disappeared, and he inquired who had put them into
the cellar, and went down to see if they had been properly
stored.

But there were no squashes there. And he inquired
again where they were ; but no one knew. He called to the
boys, who were playing horse on the sidewalk, to ask if they
knew any thing of the squashes. Oh, yes ! and they ran
to the barn, he following ; and where do you suppose the
squashes were ? In the pig-pen — every one of them !

They had toiled and tugged, and carried every squash —
and many of them were large — out there, and fed them to
the pigs.

The mischief done, who could scold those two bright,
hard-working little men ? I think their papa had to console
himself with thinking if only they would work as well at
something useful when they were grown up, he could for-
give their rather wasteful business when they were little.
&i c. t>. B.

CHARLIE'S COMPOSITION.

Charlie was ten years old, and his teacher thought he
should begin to write compositions. So she gave him a list
of words, and told him to write a letter or story, and put
them all in.

The words were these : Begun, Write, Boy, Hook, Two,
Black, Said, Basket, Knife, Chair, Eyes, Ground.

Charlie went home ; and, before he went out to play
in the afternoon, his mother said, " You had better work
a while on your composition."

" Oh, I never can do it ! " he said. " Mother, you try
too, and see if you can write one." So she took his list and
wrote this true story, —

" A little boy with roguish black eyes was sitting on the floor, playing
with some spools that he had taken from his mother's ^work-basket, which
she had left in a chair. All at once he saw a cow coming up the yard.
He dropped every thing, and ran to drive her out. She threw up her
head, and looked so fierce, that he was afraid she would hook him, and
back he ran to the house.

" Then he spied a huit-km/e on the ground, where he had left it when
he was eating an apple in the morning. He picked it up, and carried it
to his mother, who had just begun to write, and she said, that, if he would
keep still about two minutes, she would attend to him."

" There," said mamma, " I have put in all the words :
now you try, Charlie."
Charlie then wrote : —

" I saw two hooks and eyes just as I had begun to write. Johnny
brought mother's knife, which he found lying on the ground. He joggled
mother's chair, and she said, ' There's a black mark on my paper, and
oh, dear ! the boy has tipped over my basket? That's all."

His mother read what Charlie had written, and said,
"Pretty good for the first time ; " and off he went to play.

95 L. J. D.

THE PEDLAR,

Moderate.
Voice.

Music by T. Crampton,
Chiswick, \V. London.

=fc

1. I

2. His

3. "Old

4. A
Piano.

wish

car -
chairs

ped -

a -

lar

liv'd in a

van it is
mend, and new
man I should

car
paint
jugs
like

a
ed

to
to

■ van With a
blue, With a
sell," How he
roam, And a

f-4-

— f-

horse to drive like a ped - lar - man, Wher - ev - er he comes from

chimney small where the smoke comes thro' ; And there is his wife with
makes the ba-sins ring like a bell! With baskets and tea-trays
book I'd write when I came back home ; And all the good folks would

-f^ET=?

— H i- k -| ph a

=1=

no-bo-dy knows, But mer - ri - ly thro' the town he goes,
ba - by so brown, And on-wardthey go from town to town,
glossy and trim, And plates with my name a -round the brim,
stud-y my book, And famous I'd be like Cap - tain Cook.

THE PARROT THAT PLAYED TRUANT.

VOL. XXII. —NO. 4. 97

THE PARROT THAT PLAYED TRUANT.

LD Miss Dorothy Draper had a parrot. It was
one of the few things she loved. And the
parrot seemed to love her in return. Miss
Dorothy would hang the cage outside of her
window every sunny day. Sometimes an idle
boy would come along, and poke a stick between the wires ;
and then the old lady would say, " Boy, go away ! "

But one day, when the window was open, and the door
of the cage was open also, Polly thought it was a good time
to play truant. So she hopped out, rested on the sill a
moment, and then flew into the street, from tree to tree,
and from lamp-post to lamp-post.

Poor Miss Dorothy was in despair. How should she get
back her lost pet ? She called in a policeman, and he
advised her to get out a handbill, offering a reward. So
in an hour this notice was pasted on the walls near by : —

LOST ! — A green-and-white parrot. It answers to the name of
Polly, and can talk quite plainly. It says, " Boy, go away ! " also,
" Polly wants a cracker," and " No, you don't ! " Any one finding this
bird shall, on returning it to its afflicted owner, Miss D. Draper, No. 10,
Maiden Place, receive a reward of two dollars.

Little Tony Peterkin was walking home from school, and
wishing he had money enough to buy a copy of Virgil
without going to his mother for it, — for she was a widow,
and poor, — when he saw a man pasting this handbill on a
wall. Tony read it, and said aloud, " Oh, I wish I could
find that parrot ! "

A girl who heard him said, " I saw a parrot just now
on one of the trees in Lake Street." — "Did you?" said
Tony ; and off he ran. The parrot had flown from the tree

THE PARROT THAT PLAYED TRUANT.

to the top of the lamp-post ; and when Tony got there, two
women, a newsboy, and a policeman were looking up at the
strange fowl.

It was the work of a second for Tony to spring at the
iron post, and begin climbing up. " No, you don't ! " cried
the parrot. That frightened Tony, so that he almost
dropped ; but he took heart when he thought of the two
dollars and a new fresh copy of Virgil.

Up he climbed; but just as he was going to put his hand
on the little cross-bar under the lamp, " Boy, go away ! "
cried Poll. Tony's heart beat at these words ; but he held
on. " Poll, Poll, pretty Poll ! " cried he : " come and get
a cracker! " — " Polly wants a cracker," replied the bird.

The truth was, Polly was tired of the street, and wanted
to get back to Miss Dorothy. So, when Polly heard Tony's
kind words, she flew down to the cross-bar, and, when he
held out his hand, she lighted on it, and Tony slid with her
down the post to the ground.

" Well clone, my lad," said the policeman. He went with
Tony, carrying the bird, to No. 10, Maiden Place ; and Miss
Dorothy was so much pleased that she gave Tony three
dollars instead of two. On his way home he bought that
copy of Virgil.

Dora Bcrxsiijk.

oj*;c

FEEDING THE DUCKS.

A mild summer day, and one, two, three, four children
sitting on the ground by the pond, and feeding the ducks !

But I think I hear the larger girl, who is standing up,
say to the sitters, " Children, don't you know better than
to sit there on the damp earth ? You will every one of you
catch a cold. Get up this instant."

That is what the larger girl ought to say ; for many
children take bad colds by sitting on the grass. The other
day, as I went through the Central Park in New York, I saw
a maid in charge of three children, one of them an infant,
and she was letting them lie at full-length on the grass.

I told her she must not do so ; but she said the weather
was warm, and there was no danger. As I knew the
parents of the children, I told her she must take the chil-
dren up at once, and let them sit on the seats near by.

100

A BABY LAY. 101

At length she obeyed me. Two days afterwards I called
on the parents of the children, and then learned that every
one of the little ones was ill with a cold. I told the mother
what I had seen at the Central Park and she told the maid
that never again must she let the children sit on the bare
grass. The maid promised she would not do so again.

Aunt Matilda.

A BABY LAY.

What does the kitten say? " Mew, mew, mew!"
She shall have some nice milk, warm and new.

Up jumps the dog, and says, " Bow, wow, wow !
I'm as good as kitty, and I'm hungry now."

A BABY LAY.

What does the cow say ? " Moo, moo, moo ! "
And the pretty little calf tries to say so too.

" Ba-a ! " says the little lamb, — " baa,

baa, baa ! "
What does she mean? Is she calling

her mamma ?

The rooster struts around, and cries, " Cock-
a-doodle-doo ! "

As if that were just about the only thing he
knew!

On the roof the gentle dove says, " Coo, coo, coo !
Love me, little girls and boys, for I love you."

A BABY LAY.

103

What does the hen say ? " Cluck, cluck, cluck ! "
As she scratches for her chickens, and has good luck.

What does the bird say? " Peep, peep,

peep ! "
As, early in the morning, she rouses us

from sleep.

What does our baby say ? " Goo, goo, goo ! "
See the loving glances in her eyes so blue ;
How we rush to take her, at the slightest call !
Oh ! the darling baby is the sweetest pet of all.

Ella.

CHESTNUT-GATHERING.

Did you ever go chestnut-gathering ? Such fun as it is !
especially when a lot of girls and boys go together.

On one of my father's farms there were many chestnut-
trees; and every autumn, after the first frost, when the
leaves were all turning, and beginning to fall, we used to
have chestnut-gatherings.

The boys used to get long poles, with which they would
beat off the nuts. Sometimes they would climb the trees,
and shake or beat off such nuts as they could not reach
from below. And we girls used to help pick them up, and
put them into baskets.

Some years chestnuts are very scarce. I remember one
year there was only one tree that had any nuts on ; and we
could not reach them : not even a man could climb it.

One day, Henry, who was a very kind man, said, " Per-
haps we will cut that tree down : it will make good rails,
and then you children can get all the nuts."

We no sooner heard this than we gave him no peace till
it was done. And such an event ! For we were to see the
tree cut down.

We children were stationed far away from danger ; and
another man and Henry chopped and chopped, till it was
almost ready to fall, when they stepped back, and, in less
than a minute, there was such a whistling through the air,
such a crashing, and breaking of branches, and then a loud
thud !

The tree was down. I felt quite breathless with excite-
ment ; and so did the others ; for it was some minutes before
we ran up to see how many nuts there were.

Oh, such lots ! all spread around, and beaten out of the
prickly burrs, all ready for us. I cannot remember how

CHE SIN UT- GA TREEING.

105

many we gathered, but it was some bushels ; and we could
not take all that day : so we concluded to return the next
afternoon after school.

And what do you think ? When we got there, not a nut
was to be found ! The little squirrels had been busy in our
absence, and had taken away every one of them. Saucy
squirrels ! But we did not grudge them the nuts ; for we
had plenty.

Aunt Jenny-

THE PIGS.

They really are a pretty sight,

My little pigs, so small and white !

Their tails have such a curious kink ;

Their ears are lined with palest pink :

They frisk about as brisk and gay

As school-boys on a holiday.

I watch them scamper to and fro:

How clean they look ! how fast they grow !

But they are only pigs, dear me !

And that is all they'll ever be.

Beside their pen, above its wall,

A garden-rose grows fresh and tall,

Its blossoms, wet with morning dew,

The sweetest flowers that ever grew.

With every passing wind that blows

Comes scattered down a milk-white rose,

In leaves like scented flakes of snow,

Upon the little pigs below.

They only grunt, " Ur, Ur," and say,

" We want more milk and meal to-day.

The flowers may bloom, the flowers may fall,

Tis no concern of ours at all."

For they are only pigs, dear me !

And that is all they'll ever be.

tot*

A DAY WITH THE ALLIGATORS. 107

Upon the rose's highest bough

There often comes a robin now,

And sings a song so sweet and clear,

It makes one happy just to hear;

For never yet, on summer day,

Was sung a more delightful lay.

What care the little pigs below ?

The bird may come, the bird may go ;

For while he sings, " Quee, quee ! " they squeal,

" We want some milk, we want some meal ! "

For they are only pigs, dear me !

And that is all they'll ever be.

Marian Douglab.

°XXc

A DAY WITH THE ALLIGATORS.

I want to tell the young folks who read " The Nursery "
something of my visit to Florida last winter. We first went
to Jacksonville, which lies on the St. John's River, and is a
very pleasant city. I wish you would find it on the map.

One day, as I sat in the reading-room of the hotel, I
heard shouts of laughter, followed by the clapping of hands.
"What can it be?" thought I, throwing down the news-
paper I was reading, and running into the corridor.

There I saw five or six little reptiles, about half the
length of my arm, that seemed to be running a race over
the canvas carpet with which the floor was covered. A
number of people were looking on, They appeared to be
highly amused by the queer movements of the creatures.

108 A DAY WITH THE ALLIGATORS.

" What are they ? Lizards ? " cried I.

" Lizards ! No : they are young alligators," said a little
girl, in a tone that implied pity for my ignorance.

"Alligators! " said I, retreating in alarm, as one of them
came towards me.

" Oh, you coward ! " cried the little girl, laughing. " They
are too small to hurt you. See me." And, saying this, she
took one of them up in her apron, and brought it towards
me. I ran into the reading-room, and she ran after me ;
but when she saw that I was really afraid of the reptile, she
took it back to the corridor, and placed it on the floor.

These little alligators grow to be huge creatures, some-
times more than twenty feet long. They live in the creeks
and little rivers that run into the St. John's. They rarely
go very far from the shore. They live partly on land and
partly in the water.

In Florida the weather in January is often quite as warm
as it is in the Northern States in June. So on a fine winter
day, my father took my sister and me on board the steamer
"Mayflower" for a trip upon the St. John's River, and
up some of the small streams, where alligators may be
found.

We went some thirty miles towards the south, and then
turned into a small river, where the scenery on both sides
resembled that given in the picture. Cypress-swamps and
high trees overgrown with moss everywhere met our view.
On the banks, and generally on fallen logs, might be seen
alligators basking; in the sun.

Many of the passengers in the steamboat had brought
pistols and guns, with which to fire at the poor alligators.
This is a very cruel and useless sport, for the alligators do
no harm to anybody. I saw ladies and young girls firing at
them. We passed some fifty alligators on our way.

A DAY WITH THE ALLIGATORS.

109

Father and another gentleman took
a boat, and rowed some distance up a
creek. There we saw an alligator with
a young one by its side. The young
are very small, compared with the full-
grown reptile. You can see from the
picture, that the alligator is not hand-
some ; but that is no reason why bullets
should be lodged in its hide. I came
to the conclusion that firing pistols at
these animals was poor and mean sport.

What a lovely day it was ! and how
we enjoyed the excursion ! Just think
of sitting in your summer clothing on a
day in January, and passing through
scenery where the trees and shrubs are
all green. We returned to Jackson-
ville just in time to see the sun set, and
we shall not soon forget our visit among

1 /

the alligators.

Ukcle Chahles's Nephew

,-feas^sFi

-Jim

THE SPIDER AND HER FAMILY.

Every child has seen
spiders in plenty, spinning
their webs in some corner ;
or, after the web or tent
is securely fastened and
finished, lying in wait for
some unfortunate fly or
mosquito.

Oftentimes in these webs
small brown bags are to be
seen, and these, if opened,
will be found to contain a
great many little eggs which the spider has laid ; or, some-
times when you open them, 3-011 will find that the eggs
have just hatched, and that there is a bag full of tiny
spiders that have not yet seen the light.

Spiders indeed have as many children sometimes as the
" Old woman who lived in a shoe ; " but, unlike that famed
personage, they seem to know just what to do. It is very
interesting to watch them, and see how they manage their
little ones.

One day as I was walking on a country road, where there
was not much travel, my attention was caught by a large
spider in the dust at my feet, so large that I stopped to look
at it. Its body seemed rough and thick, while its legs were
short. I took a stick, and poked it, when, presto change !
my spider had a small, round, smooth body,, and long legs.

Truly this was more strange than any sleight-of-hand trick
I had ever seen. 1 had heard of snakes and froo*s shedding
their skins, and many other queer stories of animals and

insects, but of nothing at all like this.
110

THE SPIDER AND HER FAMILY. \\\

I stooped closer to the ground to see if I could get a clew
to the mystery, and found that the dust all about the large
spider was alive with little ones that she had just shaken
off. What a load ! And how did they ever get up on her
back ? Did they run up her slender legs, and crowd and
cling on ?

How I wished I knew the spider language, that I might
find out why this mother weighed herself down with such a
burden of little ones as she walked the street ! Was she
giving them an airing, and showing them the world ? or had
the broom of some housemaid swept away her web, and
forced her thus to take flight to save her family from
destruction ?

Perhaps she had been burned out. Or was it the first
day of May to her ? and had her landlord forced her out of
her house because she could not pay the rent ?

Alas ! she could not tell me ; and I left her there in the
road with all her little ones about her. E. M- DAVI8.

°>Kc

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112

WHY UNCLE RALPH DID NOT HIT THE
DEER.

Many years ago, when 1 was a little fellow, I went on
a sail with my Uncle Ralph on one of the prettiest of our
northern lakes. The day was fine, the air was mild but fresh,
and the hills and banks around us were clothed in green.

Besides Uncle Ralph, in the boat were my Aunt Mary,
and cousins Walter and Susan Brent. Uncle Ralph was a

sportsman, and he had a gun, with which he hoped to bring
down a deer, in case he should see one.

I did not at all like this part of his plan. I knew it
would mar my own and my aunt's pleasure, if we were
made to see the death of a noble stag or a gentle fawn.
But I was too fond of a sail to express my dislike of Uncle
Ralph's plan.

At the foot of a hill we stopped in our little boat to pick
berries. Aunt Mary said she would stay and read. The
rest of us went with Uncle Ralph to a clearing near by, to
pick raspberries.

114 FAITHFUL DANDY.

We had not been gone long, when Uncle Ralph sent me
back for a mug with which to get water from a cool spring.
As I came within sight of the boat, I saw Aunt Mary take
the ramrod of the gun, extract the bullet, and then put in
fresh wadding, and ram it down.

1 understood it all, but said nothing. After we had go:
berries and water enough, we set sail again, and this time
for the opposite shore, where Uncle Ralph's keen eyes had
detected a stag and two fawns.

We landed in a little cove out of sight of the deer. Uncle
Ralph took his gun, and crept through the woods. In about
fifteen minutes we heard him fire. Aunt Mary smiled, and
took up her book. Soon Uncle Ralph came back.

" Where's your game, Ralph ? " asked Aunt Mary.

" Will you believe it," said he : " 1 got within thirty feet
of them ; had the fairest shot that a fellow could possibly
have, but somehow I missed my aim — didn't so much as
graze one of them."

" Well. I'm not sorry for it," said Aunt Mary. " We
shall enjoy our luncheon under the trees all the better."

I looked at her, and laughed; but she checked me with a

riUSll . Albert Mason.

FAITHFUL DANDY.

Mr. Baxter, a poor laboring-man, was the owner of a
fine dog, whose name was Dandy. Having to remove from
one village to another in the State of Maine, Mr. Baxter
hired a small wagon on which his furniture was packed.
Then he led the horse, while Dandy followed behind.

When he came to the place where he was to stop, Mr.
Baxter unloaded his wagon, but was sorry to find that a

FAITHFUL DANDY.

chair and a basket were missing from the back-part of the
wagon, and that Dandy, also, could not be found. The
day passed ; and, as the dog did not appear, the poor man
feared that something must have happened to him.

The next day, as Mr. Baxter was on his way back to the
old cottage to take away another load, he heard the bark of

116 LEARN YOUR LESSON.

a dog, which sounded very much like Dandy's. Judge how
glad he was when he saw by the roadside, not only his lost
property, but his faithful Dandy, seated erect by the chair
and basket, keeping strict guard over them.

They had fallen from the wagon when Mr. Baxter was
not looking; but Dandy had seen them, and, like a good
dog, felt it his duty to stay behind and guard what belonged
to his master.

Although left for so Ions,!; a time without food, the faithful
creature had never quitted the spot where the chair and
basket had fallen. But, when he saw his master, how glad
was poor Dandy ! He leaped up, put his paws on the man's
shoulders, and barked with joy.

"Good Dandy! good Dandy !" said Mr. Baxter: "you
must be hungry, old fellow ! Come along : you shall have
a good dinner for this. While I have a crust of bread, I'll
share it with you, you noble old dog."

Uncle Charles.

LEARN YOUR LESSON.

You'll not learn your lesson by crying, my man,
You'll never come at it by crying, my man ;

Not a word can you spy, for the tear in your eye,
Then put your mind on it, for surely you can.

Only smile on your lesson, 'twill smile upon you ;
How glibly the words will then jump into view !

' Each word to its place all the others will chase,
Till you'll wonder to find how well you can do.

If you cry, you will make yourself stupid or blind,

And then not an answer will come to your mind ;

But cheer up your heart, and you'll soon have your part,

For all things grow easy when hearts are inclined.

EMMA AND HER DOLL.

Emma has placed her doll
Flora against the pillow. She

says, "Now, dear
Flora, I want you
to be very good
to-morrow, for I
am to have com-
pany. It is my birthday."

Then Emma sat down in a
chair, and said to herself, " Why,
what an old per-
son I shall be!
I shall be four
years old; and I
shall have to go
to school soon,
and read in my
books. I love to look at the
pictures now."

118

EMMA AND HER DOLL.

Emma got down from the

chair, and placed Flora in it,

and said: "I want you to be

very still now, my
child, for I am
going to say my
evening prayers.
You must not

cry; you must not stir; for I

shall not like it at all if you

make the least noise."

Then Emma said her prayers,

and Flora kept

quite still all the

while. " Now I

shall take off my

shoes, and get

into bed," said Emma; and then
he tha:
o well.

she thanked Flora for behaving

A. B. C.

OUR OLD BILLY.

We call him old Billy ; but he is not really old : he is a
young horse, and as full of capers as any puppy. After he
has been standing in the barn for two or three days, he acts
like a wild creature when he is taken out, and will whisk
round corners, and scamper up and down the hill, as if he
really meant to tear every thing to pieces. But just fill
the carriage up with ladies or babies, and he will step along
as carefully as if he thought an extra joggle would break
some of them.

He is very fond of my aunt, who usually drives him ; and,
when she goes to ride, he always expects her to give him
something good, — an apple, or a crust, or a lump of sugar.
If she has nothing for him, he will errab the corner of her
veil, or the ribbons on her hat, and chew them, to teach

119

120 THE THRUSH FEEDING THE CUCKOO.

her not to forget him next time ; and he will lap her face
and hands, like a dog.

If she goes into a store, and stays longer than he thinks
necessary, he will step across the sidewalk, carriage and all,
and try to get his head in at the door to look for her.

There is another horse in the barn where he is kept, — a
very quiet, well-behaved nag, named Tom ; and sometimes,
when Billy feels naughty, he will put his head over the
side of the stall and nip Tom, not enough to hurt much, but
just enough to tease him, and make him squeak

One day auntie heard a great clattering in the barn, and
went out to see what was the matter. When she opened
the door, both horses were in their stalls, and all was quiet.
She noticed that the meal-chest was open : so she closed it.
and went out. Before she reached the house, the noise
began again, and she went quietly back, and peeped in at
the window.

There was Billy, dipping his nose into the meal-chest,
which he had opened. " Billy, what are you doing? " said
auntie ; and it was fun enough to see him whisk into his
stall, and stand there as quiet and demure as a cat that
had just been caught eating up the cream.

Billy had slipped the halter, and so set himself free.
Since then he has been fastened more securely; yet he still
succeeds in freeing himself once in a while. lDA Tt TJiUKSTnx.

THE THRUSH FEEDING THE CUCKOO.

The cuckoo is a queer bird. It arrives in England about
the middle of April, and departs in the autumn for the
woods of Northern Africa. In every language the well-
known notes of the male bird have suggested its name.

THE THRUSH FEEDING THE CUCKOO.

121

In its habits it is shy ; and its voice may be often heard
whilst the eye seeks in vain to find the bird itself. Its
food consists of caterpillars and various insects.

The female cuckoo makes no nest, and takes no care of

122 JIPPY AND JIMMY.

her young. How do you suppose she does ? Having a
wide bill, she takes up in it one of her eggs, which she puts
in the nest of some other bird that feeds on insects.

The strange nurses to whom the cuckoo confides her
young become not only good mothers to them, but neglect
their own children to take care of the young cuckoos.

As the young cuckoo thrives and grows strong, he thrusts
the other birds out of the nest, so that he may have all the
room to himself. For five weeks or more his adopted
mother supplies him with food.

In the picture a thrush is represented as feeding a young
cuckoo, that has probably driven off all the thrush's own
children, dora burnside.

JIPPY AND JIMMY.

Jippy and Jimmy were two little dogs :

They went to sail on some floating logs.

The logs rolled over, the dogs rolled in ;

And they got very wet, for their clothes were thin,

Jippy and Jimmy crept out again :
They said, " The river is full of rain ! "
They said, " The water is far from dry !
Ky-hi ! ky-hi ! ky-hi ! ky-hi ! "

Jippy and Jimmy went shivering home:
They said, " On the river no more we'll roam ;
And we won't go to sail until we learn how, —
Bow-wow, bow-wow, bow-wow, bow-wow ! "

Laura E. Kiohakds.

THE JOLLY OLD COOPER.

A jolly old cooper am I,

And I'm mending this tub, do you see ?
The workmen are gone, and I am alone,

And their tools are quite handy for me.
Now hammer and hammer away !

This hoop I must fit to the tub :
One, two — but I wish it would stay —

The workmen have gone to their grub.
How pleased they will be when they find
That I can do work to their mind !

124

THE JOLLY OLD COOPER.

Yes, a jolly old cooper — But stop !

What's this ? Where's the tub ? Oh, despair !
Knocked into a heap there it lies.

To face them now, how shall I dare ?
The knocks I have given the tub

Will be echoed, I fear, on my head.
They are coming ! Oh, yes ! I can hear, —

I can hear on the sidewalk a tread.
Shall 1 stay, and confess it was I ?
Yes, that's better than telling a lie !

Alfred Sklwyn.

THE CAT AND THE STARLING.

The European starling is a sprightly and handsome bird.
about eight inches long, of a black color with purple and
greenish reflections, and spotted with buff. It may be
taught to repeat a few words, and to whistle short tunes.

A little boy in England, who had one as a pet. which he
named Dicky, tells the following story about it : —

126 THE EXPRESS PACKAGE.

"I took it home with me, and got a cage for it. But
Master Dicky was not satisfied with so little room, and got
out, and took possession of the whole house. One morning
I was awakened by his chirping, and, on looking around, I
saw him on my pillow, to which he used to come every
morning.

" We had at the same time a cat, with whom he soon
became very good friends. They always drank milk out of
the same saucer. One afternoon, a basin of milk being on
the table, Master Dicky thought he would take a bath : so in
he went, splashing the milk all over the table.

" Sometimes he would take it into his head to have a ride
on the cat's back, to which she had no objection. At night
he would sleep with the cat and kitten ; and once when the
servant came down in the morning, she said that she saw
the cat with her paw around the bird, keeping him warm,
though that seems almost too much to believe." R. B.

THE EXPRESS PACKAGE.

A package came,

With Gold-Locks' name
Written in letters bold and free

Upon the cover :

She turned it over,
And cried, " Is it for me, for me ? "

'Twas scarce a minute

Before within it
Her eyes had peeped with curious awe :

There, sweet as a rose,

And folded close
In tissue, what do you think she saw ?

THE EXPRESS PACKAGE.

127

A doll ? Ah, yes !

You would never guess
A dolly could be so very sweet,

Or have such grace,

From the blooming face
Down to the tips of her slippered feet.

She smiled, and smiled,

Like a real live child,
And opened her eyes of bluest blue,

As little Gold-Locks

From out the box
Lifted, and held her up to view.

In ruffles and puffs

Of gauzy stuffs,
She looked like a fresh white flower, full-blown,

And Gold-Locks' heart

Gave a happy start,
As she thought, " She is all my own, my own ! "

Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.

Words by Tennyson.
.Moderalo. rnf

Music by T. Champion.

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2. When mer-ry milkmaids click the latch, And rarely smells the new-mown hay,

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VOL. XXli. -So. 5.

STEEBLNG FOR HOME.

STEERING FOR HOME.

^LOW, thou bitter northern gale;

Heave, thou rolling, foaming sea ;
Bend the mast and fill the sail,
Let the gallant ship go free !
Steady, lad ! Be firm and steady !

On the compass fix your eye;
Ever watchful, ever ready,

Let the rain and spray go by !
We're steering for home.

Let the waves with angry thud

Shake the ship from stem to stern ;
We can brave the flying scud,

It may go, it may return :
In the wind are cheerful voices,

In the waves a pleasant song,
And the sailor's heart rejoices

As the good ship bounds along.
We're steering for home.

Standing on the briny deck,

Beaten by the blinding spray,
Fearing neither storm nor wreck,

Let us keep our onward way.
Loving hearts for us are yearning,

Now in hope, and now in doubt,
Looking for our swift returning,

How they try to make us out !
We're steering for home.

130

SAB AH' S PICTURE. 131

Fainter blows the bitter gale,

And more peaceful grows the sea ;
Now, boys, trim again the sail;

Land is looming on the lee !
See ! the beacon-light is flashing,

Hark ! those shouts are from the shore ;
To the wharf home friends are dashing;

Now our hardest work is o'er.
Three cheers for our home !

Tom Bowling.

o&Zc

SARAH'S PICTURE.

My name is Sarah. I live in Bristol, Conn., and am
not quite five years old. I have taken " The Nursery "
ever since I was two.

About three years ago a lady gave me a little trunk, and
I have kept my magazines in it ever since. Last winter,
when snow was on the ground, and I had to stay in the
house a good deal, I used to get my trunk and sit down on
the floor by mamma, and look my "Nursery" through
almost every day. So mamma thought she would like to
have my picture taken just in that way.

Now I must introduce you to my dog Beauty, who sits
by my side in the picture. You see he is a Spitz ; but do
not be frightened : he will never have hydrophobia. I
cannot think of having him muzzled, for one of his charms
is the way he opens and shuts his mouth when he barks.
Oh, no, Beauty ! I will never hurt your feelings by making
you wear a muzzle.

My grandma gave me this dear dog a year ago last

132

SARAH'S PICTURE.

Christmas. He had two beautiful red eyes then ; now he
has none. He had two long silky ears then ; now he has
but one. He had four legs, and a bushy tail curled over his
back ; now he has but two legs, and no tail. But I love him
just as well as ever.

The dolly you see sitting up against the trunk is my
daughter Nannie. I have four other children.

Nellie is a fair-haired blonde, but is getting rather past
her prime. You know blondes fade young.

Rosa Grace once had lovely flaxen curls, and very rosy
cheeks; but now her curls are few and far between, her
cheeks are faded, and her arms and feet are out of order.

Next comes Florence, who has joints, and can sit up
like a lady anywhere. My papa brought her from San
Francisco. She has yellow hair, and is dressed in crimson
silk.

THREE NAUGHTY PIGS.

133

My youngest is not yet named. She is quite small, has
black hair and eyes, and is rather old-fashioned looking.
If you can think of a name just right for her, I wish you
would please let me know. It is so perplexing to name so
many children !

Sarah H. Buck.

°*Kc

THREE NAUGHTY PIGS.

Three naughty pigs,

All in one pen,
Drank up their milk

Left by the men.

Then all the three,
Fast as they could,

Dug their way out
To find something good.

Out in the garden

A maiden fair
Had set some flowers,

Of beauty rare.

Out in the garden

A merry boy
Had planted seeds,

With childish joy.

One naughty pig
Ran to the bed ;
Soon lay the flowers
Drooping and dead.

Two naughty pigs
Dug up the seeds,

And left for the boy
Not even weeds.

Three naughty pigs
Back in the pen,

Never could do

Such digging again.

For in their noses

Something would hurt
Whenever they tried

To dig in the dirt.

F. L. T.

KITTY BELL.

Once there was a little girl named Alice, and she had an
Uncle George whom she loved very dearly. One day, as
Alice was looking out of the window, she saw her Uncle
George coming into the yard with a covered basket in his
hand.

Alice ran to meet him, and, as she was kissing him in the
hall, she heard a faint sound in the basket, and exclaimed,
" 0 Uncle George ! what have you brought me ? "

" Look into the basket and see," said her uncle.

So Alice peeped in very carefully, and saw a little black
kitten. The little girl was delighted, and fairly danced
around her uncle as she said, " What a dear little kitten !
Is it for me, Uncle George ? Who sent it to me ? Did
you bring it from your house ? "

"Yes," said her uncle, "your Cousin Edith sent it to
you ; she thought you would like it."

" Well," said Alice, " you must thank Edith a thousand
times, and here is a kiss for you for bringing it to me ; and
I'm sure the poor little thing must be hungry : so I'll give
it something to eat."

She carried the kitten into the kitchen, and soon got from
the cook a nice pan of milk. Her little brother Harry came
running in to see the new kitten eat its dinner, and with
him came the old family cat, Mouser, who rubbed and
purred against Alice, as if he wanted her to pet him too.

The next thing was to find a name, " pretty, and not too
common," Alice said. While she was trying to think of
one, she went up to her own little room, and searched
among her ribbons for a piece to tie around the kitten's
neck. She soon found one that was just the thing.

In one of her drawers she found a tiny bell that some-

134

KITTY BELL.

135

body had given her, and thought it would be a good plan
to hang that around kitty's neck by the ribbon. Kitty
made no objection to being thus decorated, and a happy
thought struck Alice ; " Kitty Bell would be just the name
for her ! " and Kitty Bell it was.

Kitty grew very fast ; and one morning, after she had got

136 A CLEVER EOX.

to bo a good-sized kitten, she came to Alice, and mewed
quite piteously. Alice gave her some milk ; but Kitty Bell
was not hungry, and mewed still more. Alice could not
think what was the matter.

At last Kitty Bell gave her head a shake, and put one
paw up to the ribbon on her neck, as if trying to pull it
over her head. Alice untied the ribbon, and away ran Kitty
Bell quite out of sight. In a short time she came back
with a mouse in her mouth, which she laid at Alice's feet.

Do you see what had been the trouble ? The bell had
frightened the mice away, so that Kitty Bell could not get
near enough to catch them. w.

oKKc

A CLEVER FOX.

On a summer day, a gentleman was lying under the
shelter of some shrubs on the banks of the River Tweed,
when he saw a large brood of ducks, which had been made
to rise on the wing by the drifting of a fir-branch among
them. After circling in the air for a little time, they again
settled down on their feedin^-around.

There was a pause for two or three minutes, and then
the same thing took place again. A branch drifted down
with the stream into the midst of the ducks, and made them
take to flight once more. But when they found that the
bough had drifted by, and done no harm, they flew down
to the water as before.

After four or five boughs had drifted by in this way, the
ducks gave no heed to them, and hardly tried to fly out of
their way on the stream, even when they were near to
being touched.

A CLEVER FOX.

137

The gentleman who had been observing all this now
watched for the cause of the drifting; of the boughs. At
length he saw, higher up the bank of the stream, a fox,
which, having set the boughs adrift, was watching for the
moment when the ducks should cease to be startled by
them.

138 HOW PON TO GOT HIS PINNER.

This wise and clever fox at last seemed satisfied that the
moment had come. So what did he do but take a larger
branch of spruce-fir than any he had yet used, and, spread-
ing himself down on it so as to be almost hidden from

sight, set it adrift as he had done the others !

The ducks, now having ceased to fear the boughs, hardly
moved till the fox was in the midst of them, when, making
rapid snaps right and left, he seized two fine young ducks
as his prey, and floated forward in triumph on his raft.
The ducks flew off in fright, and did not come back.

That fox must have had a fine dinner that day, I think.
The gentleman who saw the trick pitied the poor ducks,
but could not help laughing at the fox's cunning.

Uncle Chakles.

HOW PONTO GOT HIS DINNER.

Ponto in his youth had been a very wise and active
dog. Not only had he been brave at watching, but he had
been taught to carry packages and notes for his master.

But, as he grew old and feeble, he gradually got out of
the way of doing such services, and spent his time mostly
in sleeping, or in jogging about, without care.

One day his mistress had told her husband, as he went to
his business in the morning, to send around the carriage at
ten o'clock. This he forgot to do ; and when the hour
came, and there was no carriage, the lady knew it would
be necessary to remind her husband of his promise.

But she had no one to send with a message. At last she
chanced to remember that Ponto used to go on such errands,
and, writing a note, she called him to her, and said, —

" Here, Ponto, take this note to your master."

THE BUTTERFLY AND THE GRASSHOPPER. 139

Ponto took the note carefully in his mouth, but did not
seem to know what he was expected to do with it.

" Go, Ponto," she said ; " take the note to your master."

He trotted on a little way, paused, turned and hesitated,
and then trotted a little farther. This he repeated several
times, and at last, started off at a good gait.

But wise old Ponto ! Did he, after so much pondering,
take the note to his master ? Not a bit of it ! He went
straight to the butcher's, and presented the billet, wagging
his tail at the same time, as much as to say, " Here's an
order for my dinner ! "

The butcher, understanding the situation, rolled up a
nice piece of meat in a paper, gave it to Ponto, and then
himself delivered the note to the gentleman.

Ponto stalked home as proud as a king, laid the package
at his mistress's feet, and waited, with a delighted, ex-
pressive wag, for her approval.

Of course she gave him all the meat, patted his faithful
old head, and called him " good Ponto."

The carriage came in good time ; and Ponto does not
know to this day but what he did exactly as he was told.

c D. B.

THE BUTTEKFLT AND THE GKASSHOPPEK.

" Pretty Butterfly, stay !
Come down here and play,"
A Grasshopper said,
As he lifted his head.
" Oh, no ! and oh, no !
Daddy Grasshopper, go !
Once you weren't so polite,

But said, ' Out of my sight,
You base, ugly fright ! '
" Oh, no ! and oh, no !
I never said so,"
The Grasshopper cried :
" I'd sooner have died
Than been half so rude.

140 THE BUTTERFLY AND THE GRASSHOPPER.

\ II

.^^■M^

You misunderstood."

" Oh, no ! I did not ;

'Twas near to this spot :

The offence, while I live,

I cannot forgive."

" I pray you explain

When and where such disdain,

Such conduct improper,

Was shown by this Hopper."

" I then was a worm :

'Tis a fact, I affirm,"

The Butterfly said,

With a toss of her head.

" In my humble condition,

Your bad disposition

Made you spurn me as mean,

And not fit to be seen.

In my day of small things

You dreamed not that wings

Might one day be mine, —

Wings handsome and fine,

That help me soar up

To the rose's full cup,

And taste of each flower

In garden and bower.

This moral now take

For your own better sake :

Insult not the low;

Some day they may grow

To seem and to do

Much better than you.

Remember ; and so,

Daddy Grasshopper, go ! "

Emily Carter.

THE PET PIGEON.

When" I was about nine years old, my father and mother
were living in a Southern city ; and, as I had been very ill
for a long time, I was taken from school, and permitted to
do as I liked.

In one of my walks I met an old colored woman, who
took quite a fancy to me; and once, when I was sick at
home, she came to see me, bringing as a present a young-
pigeon. Its feathers were not grown enough to show its
color ; but it proved to be brown and white.

I was very much grieved when my mother said that she

141

142 THE PET PIGEON.

could not have a pigeon kept in the house ; but my father
persuaded her to indulge me till I was able to go out again ;
and then my pet gave so little trouble that nobody objected
to him.

For the first two or three weeks, he was put at night in
another room ; but I begged so hard that finally " Pidgy,"
as I called him, was allowed to roost on top of the ward-
robe in my bed-room.

The first time he saw me asleep, he seemed very much
alarmed (so my mother told me); but he settled down on
my shoulder, and kept very quiet till I awoke. This he
always did after that morning, sometimes waiting more
than two hours. After amusing myself with him till it was
time to get up, I used to give him a large basin of water,
into which he would jump with great delight ; and he would
be making his toilet while I was making mine.

For two or three months I kept his wings clipped, so
that he could not fly far. When I went out for a walk, I
generally took him, either in my arms or perched on my
hand ; and thus I and my pet became known all over the
neighborhood ; and, when my little playmates invited me
to visit them, an invitation was always sent for " Lillie and
her pigeon."

He followed me everywhere. If I was reading, he rested
on my chair; if playing on the piano, he would listen
attentively : indeed he acquired such a taste for music,
that the only time he ever seemed willing to leave me
was to perch upon the foot of a gentleman who was singing
very finely.

I taught him a number of tricks, such as bringing me
any thing that he could carry, lying down very still till 1
told him to get up, and running over the piano-keys to
make music for himself.

EIGHTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY. 143

During the two years that Picl gy and I enjoyed so much
together, he never fed from any hand but mine ; and once,
when I staid from home over night, he would not eat at all,
but pecked at my mother and sister so that they were quite
provoked with him. On my return, he flew to meet me
with an angry " coo," his feathers all ruffled up, as if trying
to reprove me for my neglect.

What finally became of my pet I never knew. I had
him out on the porch, one clay, and, as I ran into the house
for a few minutes, the door was blown to, so that he could
not follow me. A boy caught him up, and was seen run-
ning away with his prize. Every effort was made to find
him ; but I never saw my dear little pigeon again.

Anne Page.

EIGHTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

How shall I make such little folks understand that the
sun and the stars really stand still, when they seem to take
a journey across the sky every day ? Perhaps the best
way will be to make a little game of it. We will explain
it with boys.

I want a boy to represent the earth, and as many as can
be found for sun and stars : there is no danger of too
many. Now, the fattest boy of all must be the earth, and
stand in the middle. We want him fat and round, because
the earth is as round as an orange. (We need not mind
about the size of the stars : they always look small, they
are so far off.)

All the other boys must stand about him, and stand still.
If they are not satisfied with their places, they must not
move; for they are fixed stars. That is right. I can

144 EIGHTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.

.*
imagine you now just as you are, the fat boy in the
middle.

But you must not stand still, fat boy, because I told the
star-boys not to move. You are the earth, and must do
what the earth does. Don't you know what it does ? Oh !
it does not run away. Come back, and I will tell you what
it does. It turns around just as a top spins. That is right.
Every time the earth turns, it makes a day and a night, by
turning towards the sun, and away from it again.

Don't turn so fast, my dear : you make the days and
nights too short, and you will be dizzy. Besides, you are
turning the wrong way. The earth turns from west to
east, and you must remember you are the earth, and not
Charlie. Now go the other way, and more slowly, and
keep your eyes on the little boys who are the sun and
stars.

We will suppose now that Frank is the sun. There he
is just behind you. He is shining now on the other side of
the earth, — on your back. As you turn around to the
left, to the east, you begin to see him : he rises. Now, as
you turn more towards him, he seems to pass in front of
you towards the west, and pretty soon he is out of sight
He has set. So much for the sun.

It is just the same if you look at the stars, — John, or
Willie, or James. As you turn round they all seem to ho
going round you. Now can't you see, that, as the real
earth turns around, the sun and stars about it seem to you
to rise and set, although they stand still, like Frank and
John and Willie and James.

A great many years ago, everybody supposed that the
earth stood still, and the sun and stars revolved around it;
but a wise man named Copernicus found out the mistake,
and you had better call your game the Copernican game.

M. E. B.

DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.

VOL. XXII. —NO. 5. 145

THE FAEM.

Very often in summer, after looking at the sky, and con-
sulting the barometer, my father would say to me, " Tell
John to bring around the horse and carryall, and we will
all go out to the farm for the day." John had the horse
harnessed in a little while, mother sent out a great basket
of lunch, and in less than half an hour we were all off, —
father, mother, Dick, and I.

The farm was seven miles in the country, and the road
leading to it was a fine one. There were some hills, to be
sure ; but, whenever we came to one, Dick and I used to
climb out of the back-window, and hang on behind, fancying
that we lightened the load by not being inside. We always
enjoyed the ride very much.

At the farm there was a pretty cottage, where the tenant
Mr. Clark lived. We used to go in for a little while to see
Mrs. Clark's babies, and then we started off in search of
adventures. What fun we did have ! Sometimes there
would be great brush-heaps to burn, made of bushes and
branches of trees that had been cleared off from the land.
They made glorious bonfires.

There was an old yellow horse on the farm, that used to
run the wood-sawing machine. He was blind in one eye,
but was the very gentlest horse in the world. Dick and I
would both get 'on him at the same time, with only the
halter to guide the horse, and go all over the farm.

Now and then, in shaking himself to get rid of the flies,
Bob (the horse) would shake us both off; but he always
stopped at once when we met with such an accident, so that
we could get on again. Once, when we were riding in this
way, our horse stopped and refused to go on.

On looking to see what was the matter, we saw a large

THE FARM.

147

black snake in the road just ahead of us. Being very
reckless children, we slid off old Bob, found some heavy
sticks, and attacked the snake. First Dick struck it, and,
when it turned on him, I struck it ; and so we pounded the
snake, turn and turn about, until it was killed.

Another thing that we enjoyed very much was to go
down to the creek that ran through the farm, and put some
ears of green corn in the water close by the edge. We
would then keep very still, and watch the corn, and, as soon
as we saw it move a little, we would give it a sudden slap
out of the water, and would almost always succeed in land-
ing one or two crawfish. We dug wells in the sand, which
we would fill with water to put our crawfish in. Sometimes
we would have a dozen or more.

It would have been great fun to wade in the creek, but
for one thing: there were sand-leeches in the water, and

148

THE DBA WING-MASTER.

they would get between our toes, and bite so firmly into the
flesh, that we could hardly get them off. >

A great event in the day was lunch, which we ate in
picnic style on the ground near the spring. We were
always so hungry, that the simplest food seemed delicious.
I don't think we were ever very fond of bread and butter
anywhere else. By night we were very tired, and generally
went sound asleep on the way home.

oHKc

THE DRAWING-MASTER.

Our Peter has opened a
school for teaching; draw-
ing. At present he has
only two pupils ; but he
hopes to have more. They
pay him two pins a lesson ;
not a high price. I fear
that Peter will not get rich
very soon at that rate.

But he is no miser. He
loves to do good, and to
teach to others all the good
he knows. So he says to
Tom and Harry, " This

that I am drawing now is what we call a horizontal line ;

and this is a curved line. Do you know what a circle is,

Tommy ? "

" A circle is something round, isn't it ? " replies Tommy.
tk A circle," says Peter, drawing one on paper. — u a

circle is a plane figure, bounded by a single curved line

THE DRAWING-MASTER. 149

called its circumference, every part of which is equally
distant from a point within it called the centre."

" How can I remember all that stuff ? " said Harry.

" Stuff ! Do you call it stuff, sir ? " said Peter, snapping
him twice on his closely-shorn head : " I will teach you not
to call my definitions stuff."

" What's a definition ? " asked Tommy.

" A definition," said Peter, " is what I say to you when I
tell you what a thing means. If I ask you what green is,
and I tell you it's the color of fresh summer grass, I give
you a definition."

" School is out ! " cried Harry. " Peter uses too many
big words for us. Hallo ! there's Bob, the butcher's dog.
I'm going to have a frolic with him. Good-by, drawing-
master ! "

And so the school was broken up. " Never did I see boys
behave so in school-time," said the teacher.

I hope his pupils will be more attentive the next time he
tries to teach them how to draw. UNCLE chaeles.

oJOic

LITTLE MOSQUITO.

Little Mosquito she sits on a sill, —

Whee, whee, whee !
And longs for the time when the people are still,
That she, in the darkness, may stab them at will, —

Whee, whee, whee !

She whets up her dagger, and looks at the moon, —

Whee, whee, whee !
She says to herself, " I'll begin pretty soon
To look for my victims, and sing them a tune, ' —

Whee, whee, whee !

With a hum and a flutter, the way to prepare, —

Whee, whee, whee !
She rises and circles about in the air;
Then settles herself with a great deal of care, —

Whee, whee, whee !

But one, — more awake than he seeks to appear, —

Whee, whee, whee !
Slaps little Mosquito, alight on his ear,
And thus puts an end to her hopeful career, —

Whee, whee, whee !

150 Fleta F.

LEARNING TO IRON.

"Now I've had my lesson in my ' Nursery Primer,' "
said little five-year-old Ellen, " and I want to learn to
iron clothes."

" You are rather too young to be trusted with a flat-
iron/' said her mother : " you might burn your fingers."

151

152 LEARNING TO IRON.

"I'll promise not to cry if I do," said Ellen. "Please
let me go out and help Patience iron, mamma."

Mamma at last gave her consent ; and our picture of
Ellen and Patience at work at the ironing-board gives about
as good likenesses of the two as their reflections in a mirror
could have given.

Ellen saw how Patience used her flat-iron, and then used
hers in the same way. She ironed a towel so well, that
Patience praised her, and said she could not have done it
better herself.

But, as she was trying to put a flat-iron on the stove,
Ellen burnt her fingers so as to make her hop. She did not
cry ; for she remembered her promise. Patience wet a
cloth with cold water, and put it on the burn ; then she
remembered that common brown soap was the best thing
for a burn, so she spread some soap on a cotton rag and put
that on. Soon the pain was gone, and Ellen ran and told
her mother what had happened.

" You should not have tried to put the flat-iron on the
stove," said her mother. " If your clothes had caught fire,
you might have had a bad time."

" Would my dress have blazed up ? " asked Ellen.

" I take care to dip your clothes in a weak solution of
nitre before they are worn ; for that prevents their blaz-
ing, even if they should catch fire," said mamma. " But
you must not let that keep you from taking great care."

" Next Tuesday may I take another lesson in ironing ? "
asked Ellen.

" Yes : if you say your lessons well during the week, you
shall not only learn to iron your clothes, but to wash
them."

" That will be fun ! " cried Ellen, clapping her hands,
and quite forgetting her burnt finger. DoEA burxside.

BIRDIE AND BABY.

Bikdie is a canary-bird of pale gold color. Tiny as he is,
he is quite old compared with baby.

He was the sole pet of the house long before baby came
into the world, and he did as much as any bird could to fill
a baby's place.

All the bright hours of the day, the door of his cage stood
open. He would fly to Aunt Minnie's shoulder while she
sat sewing, and sing his sweetest notes for her, or perch on
her finger and take the bit of fresh lettuce she brought for
him from the table.

153

154 A NAUGHTY BABY.

But after baby came — can you believe it? — this dear
little birdie behaved just like a spoiled child. He rolled
himself up into a soft yellow ball, and actually moped.

Not a note would he sing. Aunt Minnie could not coax
him with green leaf or seed. He would insist on making
himself unhappy until baby was taken out for an airing.
Then he would burst into song again, and seem to feel that
he was in his old place, — the only treasure.

It was a long time before the poor little bird found out
that Aunt Minnie's heart was large enough to love him and
her precious baby too. But he is learning it now, and
likes to have baby held up to his cage.

When Aunt Minnie lets him out into the room, he hops
close by the baby ; and baby laughs, and stretches out his
dimpled hands to catch him ; but he is wise enough to keep
out of baby's way.

Don't you think it is nice for Aunt Minnie to have such
treasures ? E. Pt B.

A NAUGHTY BABY.

He's a very naughty baby,

For he will not shut his eyes
And go to sleep, though I have done

My best to hush his cries.
I've trotted him, I've patted him,

I've given him some food;
But nothing that I do for him

Will do him any good.

NAUGHTY BABY. 155

I've sung a little lullaby,

The one that mother sings ;
One that to weary little ones,

Sweet slumber, always brings.
I've scolded him, I've shaken him,

All sorts of things I've tried;
But the naughty, noisy baby-man

Will not be pacified.

He screams so loud he frightens me ;

He's getting worse and worse.
I do wish mother would come home,

Or get this boy a nurse.
I'll toss him up, I'll tumble him,

Play " creep-mouse," and " bo-peep,"
Perhaps if I can make him laugh,

The laugh will make him sleep.

You naughty, naughty baby,

How could you vex me so ?
One would not think you ever cried,

To hear you laugh and crow !
Hush, hush ! He's getting tired out:

Now very still I'll keep ;
There's nothing like a hearty romp,

To put a child to sleep !

Josephine Pollard.

BOYS AND RABBITS.

Here are two little boys and
two little rabbits, all down on
the ground.

The two boys are just the
same age. They are twin
brothers. Their names are
Paul and John.

The girl who stands near
them is their sister Jane. She
is quite a little girl, as you
see; but she is full three years
older than the boys: so she
takes great care of them.

You would laugh to see Paul
and John try to lift their rabbits
by the ears. The rabbits look
most as large as the boys. But

156

BOYS AND RABBITS.

157

the boys are growing larger
and stronger every day. Ai B. c.

TOBACCO AND EGG.

Oue house had a long back
piazza, covered all over with
grape-vines, with steps going
down to the yard.

I discovered that by stand-
ing on my tip-toes, half way
up the steps, I could see into
the next yard, where there
grew such different flowers
from ours, and where there
often came a little girl of six
or seven — about my own age
— to gather bouquets.

She did not see me at first :
so, for many days, I quietly
watched the stout little figure. During one of my obser-
vations, her mother called her, and such a name as she had !
The call, as I heard it, was " Tobacco, my daughter ! "

I felt deeply for the girl who was afflicted by such a
name. I determined to throw her the finest bunch of
grapes on our vine by way of consolation.

Some days after, when I was giving my large family of
dolls an airing in the garden, I saw a small face staring at
me just over the top of the fence. Being familiar with the
position myself, I was not alarmed, but hastened to mount
to the same level on my side, and offer some grapes.

After a long stare on the part of both of us, I timidly
broke the silence by asking, "What is your name ? "
" Rebecca," was the reply.

" Why," I said, " I was pitying you all this time, thinking
you were called Tobacco."

158

TOBACCO AND EGG.

159

" Oh, no ! " she cried, " it is not so bad as that. You
have a funny name, though. I have often wondered how
you came to have such a name. Perhaps you were born
on Easter-Monday, or were very fond of eggs.

"What can you mean?" I replied. "I don't see any
thing funny about my name : I am told it is pretty."

" Well, I should not call it pretty exactly," she giggled :
" it always makes me feel hungry."

" Hungry ? " I was trying to be friendly ; but I did
feel slightly offended at this. At last, just as tears of
vexation were rising to my eyes, I thought of askim
" What do you think my name is ? "

" Why, Egg, of course."

" Oh the idea of such a thing; ! " We both
we nearly fell off our perches. As soon fu
enough, I made haste to explain that my
but that my brothers and sisters called rn
have been " Ag " that she heard, and

oXKc

THE APPLE TI\EE.

Words by Clara D, Bates.
Moderato. mf

Voice and Piano.

-m-

Music by T. Crampton.
N

VOL. XXII.— NO. 6.

THE LAST GUEST.

THE MORNING AFTER THE PARTY.

MARY {angrily).

Tommy, you deceiver !

You've turned a regular thiever :
I've let the light in on your deeds,
You needn't sneak away.
You thought it mighty pleasant
To devour that dainty pheasant ;
Which cook and I for breakfast meant
To have this very day.

TOM {calmly).

Miss Mary, I assure you
You're entirely mistaken :
I was finishing my supper —

Don't call me thief or brute,
But please be so obliging
As to broil a slice of bacon
As my reward for self-control :

I haven't touched the fruit.

MARY {sneer ingly).

For that there is eood reason,
You thing of craft and treason ;
You did not touch the grapes, because
The grapes you do not like.

THE LAST GUEST.

You get no slice of bacon
From me, since you have taken
The bird I'd set my heart upon.
Away, or I will strike !

TOM {derisively).

Be patient, Mistress Mary,
Of broomsticks I am wary :
The door is open, and I see

What you would now be at.

16;

MARY {angrily).

Away ! obey my order,
You sneaking, base marauder !
I'll teach you to steal birds again !
Be off ! Take that, and — Scat !

[Exit Tommy at double-quick time, followed by Mary, who strikes with the
broom, but does not hit.']

Alfred Selwtk.

oJ*ic

i '

THE STARLINGS AND THE SPARROWS.

" Look bore, my clear," said a starling to her mate : "in
our pretty summer-villa a pair of saucy sparrows have
taken up their abode. What shall we do ? "

" What shall we do? " cried Mr. Starling, who was calmly
standing on a fence ; " why, rout them out, of course ; give
them notice to quit."

" That we will do," replied Mrs. Starling. "Here, you
beggars, you : out of that house ! You've no business
there. Be off ! "

" What's all that ? " piped Mrs. Sparrow, looking out of
her little round doorway. " Go away, you impudent tramp !
Don't come near our house."

" It is not your house ! " said Mr. Starling, springing
nimbly to a bough, and confronting Mrs. Sparrow.

" It is ours ! " cried Mr. Sparrow, looking down from
the roof of the house. " I have the title-deeds. Stand up
for your rights, my love ! "

" Yes, stand up for your rights. I'll back you," said Mrs.
Sparrow's brother-in-law, taking position on a branch just
at the foot of the house.

164

THE STABLINGS AND THE SPARROWS.

165

" We'll see about that, you thieves ! " cried Mrs. Starling,
in a rage, making a dash at Mrs. Sparrow's brother-in-law.

But two of Mrs. Sparrow's cousins came to the rescue
just then, and attacked Mrs. Starling in the rear.

Thereupon Mr. Starling flew at Mrs. Sparrow, Mr.
Sparrow, without more delay, went at Mr. Starling. Mrs.
Sparrow's brother-in-law paid his respects to Mrs. Starling.
There was a lively fight.

It ended in the defeat of the sparrows. The starlings
were too big for them.
The sparrows retreated
in good order, and left
the starlings to enjoy
their triumph.

" Now, my dear,"
said Mr. Starling, "go
in, and put the house
in order. I'll warrant
those vulgar sparrows
have made a nice mess
in there. Sweep the

floors, dust the furniture, and get the beds made,
here in the garden, and rest myself."

" Just like that husband of mine ! " muttered Mrs. Star-
ling : " I must do all the work, while he has all the fun.
But I suppose there's no help for it."

So she flew up to the door of the house ; but, to her
surprise, she could not get through it : the opening was not
large enough.

"Well, Mr. Starling," said she, " I do believe we have
made a mistake. This is not our house, after all."

" Why did you say it was, then ? " said Mr. Starling, in a
huff. " Here I have got a black eye, and a lame claw, and

I'll stay

166 KATIE AND WAIF.

a sprained wing, and have lost two feathers out of my tail,
all through your blunder. You ought to be ashamed of
yourself, Mrs. Starling ! "

" I own that I was hasty," said poor Mrs. Starling ; " hut
I meant well."

" Yes, you thought the sparrows were thieves, and so did
1. But it turns out, that we are no better than burglars
ourselves ; and, what's more, we shall have a whole army of
sparrows back upon us before long. We had better take
ourselves off." And off' they flew. ♦ DoRA burnside.

3j«<C

KATIE AND WAIF.

I am Katie Sinclair, and Waif is my dog. Now, as every-
body who knows him says he is the nicest dog in the world.
1 will tell my " Nursery " friends why people think so.

First I must tell you how I got him, and how he came to
have such an odd name. One cold, rainy day, about three
years ago, I heard a strange noise under the window, and
ran to the door to see what it was. There stood a homely
little puppy, dripping wet, shivering from the cold, and
crying, oh, so mournfully !

I took him in, and held him before the fire till he was dry
and warm. Then I got him some nice fresh milk, which
he drank eagerly ; and he looked up in my face in such a
thankful wa}^, that he quite won my heart.

" Poor little dog ! " said I. " He hasn't had a very nice time
in this world so far ; but I will ask mamma to let him stay
and be my dog." Mamma consented; and, if that clog has
not enjoyed himself since then, it is not my fault.

I was bothered not a little to find a name for him. I

KATIE AND WAIF.

167

wanted one, you see, that would remind me always of the
way he came to me, — not a common name, such as other
little clogs have. No ; I did not want a " Carlo," or a
" Rover," or a " Watch." After trying in vain to think
of a name fit for him, I asked mamma to help me.

168 KATIE AND WAIF.

She said, " Call him Waif." I was such a little goose
then (that was over three years ago, you know), that 1 had
to ask her what "Waif" meant.

"A waif," said she, " is something found, of which nobody
knows the owner. On that account, ' Waif ' would be a
good name for your puppy-" So 1 gave him that name,
and he soon got to know and answer to it.

Waif grew fast, and we taught him ever so many tricks.
He has learned to be very useful too, as I shall show you.

On a shelf in the kitchen stands a small basket, with his
name, in red letters, printed upon it. To this basket he
goes every morning, and barks. When Ellen the cook
hears him, she takes the basket down, and places the handle
in his mouth. Then he goes to mamma, and waits patiently
till she is ready, when he goes down town with her, and
brings back the meat for dinner.

When papa gets through dinner, he always pushes back
his chair, and says, " Now, Waif : " and Waif knows what
that means ; for he jumps up from where he has been lying,
— and, oh! such fun as we have with him then ! He walks
on his hind-feet, speaks for meat, and catches crumbs.

Last summer I went out to Lafayette to visit grandma.
Mamma says, that, while I was away, Waif would go to my
room, and sniff at the bed-clothes, and go away whining and
crying bitterly. When I came back, he was nearly beside
himself with delight.

We never found out where he came from that rainy
day. But I don't love him a bit the less because he was a
poor, friendless puppy ; and when I look into his good,
honest brown eyes, and think what a true friend he is. I
put my arms around his neck, and whisper in his ear, that
I would not change him for the handsomest dog- in the
country. s< K Ri

AMY AND ROBERT IN CHINA.

Amy and Robert, with their papa and mamma, live in
China, in a place called Foochow. They came here last
January, when Amy was just three years old, and Robert
a little over one year. They came all the way from Boston
by water.

They have a good grandma at home, who sends Amy
" The Nursery " every month, and she is never tired of
hearing the nice stories.

Out here, the children see many things that you little
folks in America know nothing about. When they go to
ride, they do not go in a carriage drawn by horses, but in a
chair resting on two long poles, carried by some Chinamen
called coolies. When it is pleasant, and the sun is not too
hot, the chair is open ; but, if it rains, there is a close cover
to fit over it.

169

170

AMY AND ROBERT IN CHINA.

It is so warm here, that flowers blossom in the garden all
winter; and Amy is very fond of picking them, and putting
them into vases. When it is too warm to go into the
garden, she has a pot of earth on the shady piazza, and
the cooly picks her flowers, to plant in it.

Foochow is on a large river; and the children like much
to go out in the sail-boats, called " house-boats." These
boats are fitted up just like a house, with a dining-room,
sleeping-room, bath-room, and pantry.

The night before Fourth of July, Amy and Robert started
with their papa, mamma, and Amah (their colored nurse),
and went to Sharp Peak, on the seashore, twenty-five miles
from here. They found the boat very nice to sleep in,
but were glad enough to get into their own beds the next
night.

I am afraid you would not know what these little children
say, if you should hear them talk ; for they pick up words
from their Amah, and do not speak like little American
girls and boys.

By and by I shall have more to tell you about them.

Amy's Mamma.

ABOUT TWO OLD HOKSES.

In my great-great-grandfather's barn-yard stood an old-
fashioned well, with a long sweep or pole, by which the
bucket was pulled up. This well was used entirely for
the horses and cattle.

Grandfather had a horse named Pete, who would walk
out of his stall every morning, go to the well, take the
pole, by which the bucket was attached to the well-sweep,
between his teeth, and thus pull up the bucket until it
rested on the shelf made for it. Then old Pete would drink
the water which he had taken so much pains to get.

But one of my uncles had a horse even more knowing
than old Pete. This horse was named Whitey. Every
Sunday morning, when the church-bell rang, Uncle George
would lead Whitey out of his stall, harness him, drive him
to church, and tie him in a certain shed, where he would
stand quietly till church was done.

After a while, Whitey grew so used to this weekly per-
formance, that, when the bells rang, he would walk out of
his stall, and wait to be harnessed. One Sunday morning,
Old Whitey, on hearing the bells, walked out of his stall
as usual, and patiently waited for Uncle George. But it
happened that uncle was sick that morning, and none of the
family felt like going to church.

I do not really know what Whitey 's thoughts were; but
I have no doubt that they were something like this : " Well.
well ! I guess my master is not going to church this morn-
ing ; but that is no reason why I should not go. I must go
now, or I shall be late."

Whitey had waited so long, that he was rather late ; but
he jogged steadily along to his post in the shed, and there
took his stand, as usual.

171

172 FOB ETHEL.

As soon as old Mr. Lane, who sat in one of the back-
pews and always came out of church before anybody else,
appeared at the door, Whitey started for home. At the
door of the house he was greeted by several members of
the family, who had just discovered his absence, and who
learned the next day, from Mr. Lane, that old Whitey had
merely been attending strictly to his church-duties.

k. h. s.

FOR ETHEL.

" Good-by ! little Ethel, good-by ! " says the Light ;
For what does my sleepy one need but the night ? —
The soft quiet night, like a great downy wing,
To shelter the wee ones, too tired to sing.

Good-by till the dawning:

Some bright star will keep
Its watch o'er your pillow

When you are asleep!

" Good-by, little Ethel," so many things say, —

The wind, that has played in the grasses all day,

The pretty red squirrels you never can catch,

And the kitten, that tries all your playthings to snatch.

When bird, bee, and blossom

Their bright eyes must close,
Is Ethel awake ?

Go to sleep like a rose.

Charlotte M. Packard.

BABY'S EXPLOIT.

Iisr the first place baby had her bath. Such a time !
Mamma talked as fast and as funny as could be ; and the
baby crowed and kicked as if she understood every word.

Presently came the clean clothes, — a nice, dainty pile,
fresh from yesterday's ironing. Baby Lila was seven
months old that very May morning ; but not a sign had she
given yet of trying to creep : so the long white dresses still
went on, though mamma said every day, " I must make
some short dresses for this child. She's too old to wear
these dragging things any longer."

173

174

BABY'S EXPLOIT.

When baby had been dressed and kissed, she was set
down in the middle of the clean kitchen-floor, on her
own rug, hedged in by soft white pillows. There she sat,
serene and happy, surveying her playthings with quizzical
eyes; while her mamma gathered up bath-tub, towel, and
cast-off clothes, and went up stairs to put them away.

Left to herself, Lila first made a careful review of her
treasures. The feather duster was certainly present. So
was the old rattle. Was the door-knob there ? and the
string of spools? Yes; and so was the little red pincushion,
dear to baby's color-loving eyes.

She was slowly poking over the things in her lap, when
mamma came back, bringing a pot of yeast to set by the
open fire-place, where a small fire burned leisurely on this
cool May morning. She put a little tin plate on the top of
the pot, kissed the precious baby, and then went out again.

Baby Lila was used to being
left alone, though seldom out
of mamma's hearing. At such
times she would sit among the
pillows, tossing her trinkets all
about, and crowing at her own
performances. Sometimes she
would drop over against a pil-
low, and go to sleep.
But this morning Lila had no intention of going to sleep.
She flourished the duster, and laughed at the pincushion ;
then gazed meditatively at the bright window, and reflected
gravely on the broad belt of sunshine lying across the floor.
That speculation over, she fell to hugging the cherished
duster, rocking back and forth as if it were another baby.

A smart little snap of the fire, — a u How-do-you-do ? "
from the fire-place, — made the baby twist her little body

BABY'S EXPLOIT.

175

to look at it. She watched the small flames dancing in and
out, as long as her neck could bear the twist.

As she turned back again, her eyes fell on the pot of
yeast. Oh ! wasn't that her own tin plate shining in the
sunlight ? Didn't she make music on it with a spoon every
meal-time ? and hadn't her little gums felt of every A,
B, C, around its edge ? Didn't she want it now ? And
wouldn't she have it too ?

How she ever did it, nobody knows. How she ever got
over the pillows, and made her way across to the fire-place
in her long, hindering skirts, nobody can tell.

Mamma was busy in another room, when she heard the
little plate clatter on the kitchen-floor. Not a thought of
the real mischief-maker entered
her head. She only said to her-
self,—

" I didn't know the cat was
.in there. Well, she'll find out
her mistake. I'm not going in
till I get this pie done, any
way. The baby's all right, and
that's enough."

As soon as mamma's hands were at liberty, she thought
she would just look in and see what kept the darling so
quiet. "All right," indeed ! What a spectacle she beheld !

On the bricks before the fire, her jDretty white skirts
much too near the ashes, sat Baby Lila, having a glorious
time. She had found her dear little plate empty ; but the
brown pitcher was full enough. She had dropped the plate,
dipped the feather-duster into the yeast, and proceeded to
spread it about, on her clean clothes, on the bricks, on the
floor, everywhere.

So, when mamma opened the door, she saw this wee

176 THE FOX AND THE CROW.

daughter besmeared from head to foot, the yeast dripping
over her head and face as she held the duster aloft in both
hands

Just then papa came in by another door. " 0 John !
do you see this child ! What if she had put the duster into
the nre instead of the yeast! " Mamma shuddered as she
tooK little Lila into her lap for another bath and change of
clothes. Papa standing by said, —

'* You don't seem to mind having all that to do again."
" Indeed I don't. To think how near she was to that
fire! I can never be thankful enough that she dusted the
yeast instead of the coals. But how do you suppose she
ever got over there ? " s. d. l. h.

THE FOX AND THE CROW.

A crow, one day, stole a nice bit of cheese,
And flew up in a tree to eat it at her ease.
A sly young Fox, who was passing" below,
Saw her as she flew, and he said, " Oh, ho!
Madam Crow."

" What a fine bird you are, with your feathers so gay !
As brilliant as the rainbow, and fairer than the day.
If your voice is as sweet as your form would show,
Then sing me a song : pray don't say ' No,'
Madam Crow."

The crow began her song, when down fell the cheese :
The fox sprang and caught it as quickly as you please ;
And as he trotted off, he said, " Oh, ho !
That is just what I wanted. I'll go,

Madam Crow." Arom5 MoORE.

DRAWING-LESSON.

VOL. XXII. — NO. 6.

177

/^'^

THE SWALLOWS AND THE ROBIN

The woods were showing autumn tints

Of crimson and of gold ;
The sunny days were growing short,

The evenings long and cold :
So the swallows held a parliament,

And voted it was time
To bid farewell to northern skies,

And seek a warmer clime.

Southward with glad and rapid flight

They flew for many a mile,
Till in a quiet woodland glen

They stopped to rest a while :
A streamlet rippled in the dell ;

And on a hawthorn-tree
A robin-redbreast sat alone,

And carolled merrily.

THE SWALLOWS AND THE ROBIN.

179

The wandering swallows listened,

And eagerly said they,
" O pretty bird ! your notes are sweet :

Come, fly with us away.
We're following the sunshine,

For it is bright and warm:
We're leaving winter far behind

With all its cold and storm.

" The iron ground will yield no food,

The berries will be few ;
Half-starved with hunger and with cold,

Poor bird, what will you do ? "
" Nay, nay," said he, " when frost is hard,

And all the leaves are dead,
I know that kindly little hands

Will give me crumbs of bread."

The English Robin.

BIRDIE'S PIG STORY.

I told my story first, as mammas usually do ; and it was
all about a naughty little pig, who did not mind his mother
when she bade him stay in the sty, but crawled through a
hole in the wall.

Of course this pig got into the garden, and was whipped
by the farmer, and bitten by the dog, and had all sorts of
unpleasant things happen to him, till he was glad to get
back again to the sty.

" Now I'll tell you a pig story," said Birdie, with a very
wise look.

" Once there was a big mother-pig, and she had lots of children-pigs.
One was spotted, and his name was Spotty; one's tail curled, and he
was Curly ; another was white, and he was Whitey; another was Browny ;
and another was Greeny."

" Oh, dear ! the idea of a green pig ! " said I.
But Birdie's eyes were fixed on the floor. He was too busy
thinking of his story to notice my remark. He went on, —

"One day the pigs found a hole in the wall, and they crawled through,
— all of 'em, the mother-pig and all; and, when they got out, they ran
off, grunting with — with joy. And when the farmer saw them, he went
after them on a horse ; but he couldn't catch them, for they all ran down
under a bridge where there had been a brook ; but the water was all
dried up.

" Then the farmer got a long pole, and poked under the bridge ; but
he couldn't reach them. He put some potatoes down there too, but the
pigs weren't going to be coaxed out. And when they had staid as long
as they wanted to, they came out themselves, and got home before the
farmer did."

That was the story, and I forgot to ask how they got
home before the farmer did unless he drove them ; but I
think they must have gone home across the field, because
it is plain that Birdie's pigs did just as they liked all

OUR FRIEND THE ROBIN.

181

through. What I did ask was, " Well, what was the good
of it all ? " for I thought nobody ought to tell a story with-
out meaning some good by it.

" Why, they got some fresh air!" cried Birdie, triumph-
antly; and considering that most farmers keep their pig-
sties in a filthy condition, which can't be healthy for the
pigs, nor for those who eat them, I thought Birdie's story
had a very good moral, which is only another way of saying

that it had a good lesson in it.

Birdie's Mamma.

o>Kc

OUR FEIEND THE ROBIN.

One very hard winter, a robin came, day after day, to
our window-sill. He was fed with crumbs, and soon became
tame enough not to fly away when we opened the window.
One cold day we found the little thing hopping about the
kitchen. He had flown in at the window, and did not
attempt to fly out again when we came near.

182

OUR FRIEND THE ROBIN.

We did not like to drive him out in the bitter cold : so
we put him in a cage, in which he soon made himself quite
at home. Sometimes we would let him out in the room,
and he would perch on our finger, and eat from our hand
without the least sign of fear.

When the spring came on, we opened the cage-door and
let him go. At first he was not at all inclined to leave us;
but after a while he flew off, and we thought we should
never see him again.

All through the summer and autumn, the cage stood on a
table in a corner of the kitchen. We often thought of the
little robin, and were rather sorry that the cage was empty.

When the winter set in, we fancied we saw our old friend
again hopping about outside the window. We were by no
means sure that it was the same robin ; but, just to see
what he would do, we opened the window, and set the cage
in its old place.

Then we nil left, the room for a few minutes. When we
returned, we found, to our great delight, that the bird was
jn the cage. He seemed to know us as we petted him and
jhirniped to him ; and we felt certain that it was our dear
old friend.

Chiswxck, London. <x>>*;oo

T. C.

FRANK'S HIGH HORSE.

Frank wanted a high horse:
so he took the sewing-chair, put
the hassock on it, put the sofa-
pillow on that, and mounted.

How he got seated up there
so nicely I don't know; but I
.know just how he got down.

183

184

FRANK'S HIGH HORSE.

The horse did not mind the
bridle, but he would not stand
the whip. He reared, lost his
balance, and fell over.

Down came Frank with sofa-
pillow, hassock, and all. By
good luck, he was not hurt; but
he will not try to ride that horse

again.

A. B. c.

SAGACITY OF A HORSE.

A young gentleman bought a hunting-mare from a
farmer at Malton in England, and took her with him to
Whitby, a distance of nearly sixty miles. One Wednesday
morning the mare was missing from the field where her
owner had placed her. A search was made for her, but
with no success.

The next day the search was renewed. The owner and

186 PHANTOM.

his groom went some ten miles, and were told that the mare
had crossed the railway the morning before. At this point
the trail was easy. The mare had taken the high road to
her old home at Mai ton.

Six men had tried, but in vain, to stop her. At a place
called Pickering, she jumped a load of wood and the railway
gates, and then, finding herself in her old hunting country,
made a bee-line for home. In doing this, she had to swim
two rivers, and cross a railway.

She was found at her old home, rather lame, and with one
shoe off, but otherwise no worse for her gallop of nearly
sixty miles across the country, — all done in one day ; for
her old owner found her on Wednesday night, standing at
the gate of the field where she had grazed for two previous
years. Was she not a pretty clever horse ? uncle Charles.

oXKc

PHANTOM.

We have a little white dog whose name is Phantom.
This is his portrait. 1 hope you are glad to meet him.
Ask him to shake hands. He would do so at once if you
could only see him in reality.

When he was only a few months old, he followed us all
to church without our knowing it ; nor did we see him, till,
in the most solemn part of the service, we heard a patter,
patter, patter, coming up the aisle, and there stood Phantom
at the door of our pew. In his mouth was a long-handled
feather duster, which he had found in some obscure corner
of the building, and where it had been put (as it was sup-
posed) carefully out of everybody's way.

Phantom is very intelligent, and has learned a number of

PHANTOM.

187

tricks. He can understand what is said to him better than
any dog I ever knew ; but he is best known among the
children here for his love of music and singing.

He has only learned one song yet ; but he knows that as
soon as he hears it. Wherever he may be, — up stairs, or
down stairs, or out of doors, — if he hears that song, he will

sit up, throw his head back, and you will hear his voice
taking part in the music.

You may sing a dozen songs, all in about the same tone ;
but he will take no notice till he hears the tune he has
learned, and then he will sing with you — not in a bark or
a yelp, but in a pure, clear voice, as if he enjoyed it.

If you could see him sitting up, with his nose in the air,
his mouth open, and his fore-paws moving as if playing the
piano, and could hear his music, I am sure you would laugh
till the tears came into your eyes.

Carondelet, Mo.

Uncle Tiefy.

CHRISTMAS.

Words by Alfred Selwyn. *
Cheerfully.

^=^= =^==— T — I j — h- — pL^_:fr==J

Music by T. Ckampton.

Hark! the bells are sound- ing, Christ-mas draw-eth nigh;

2ifi§

Wel-come to our pleas - ures And our Christ-mas cheer !

W — •—

~N'

-*- -J- It

Now let joy a - bound - ing, Bid all sor - row fly.

J- J T J I ■ 4- -J,

=*=*

§=§

We'll not stint the meas - ures, Would you all were here!

• — « — ■ T

' — ^"^t^F

Ye who pine in sor-row, Come be cheer' d to-day;

pj^=EgEEggE|EEEEEg=Eg-6

■ — s — « 0"

Of our glad-ness

Boys and girls to -geth -er — From all parts and climes,

Sym,

To en - joy this

bor-row, As you free - ly may.

>T«

weather, And these Christmas times !

'Nursery, 1576.

»*

ra&i

W>i

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Full text of "The Nursery; [serial] a monthly magazine for youngest readers"

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