Half Title
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Charley's lessons about animal...
 Little Flora

Group Title: Charley's lessons about animals, also, The story of little Flora : with illustrations
Title: Charley's lessons about animals, also, The story of little Flora
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00003465/00001
 Material Information
Title: Charley's lessons about animals, also, The story of little Flora with illustrations
Alternate Title: Story of little Flora
Physical Description: 128 p., <8> leaves of plates : ill. ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Cassell, Petter & Galpin
Publisher: Cassell, Petter, and Galpin
Place of Publication: London ;
Paris ;
New York
Publication Date: <1864?>
Edition: 2nd ed.
Subject: Girls -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Animals -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Catechisms -- 1864   ( rbgenr )
Gold stamped cloth (Binding) -- 1864   ( local )
Black stamped cloth (Binding) -- 1864   ( local )
Bldn -- 1864
Genre: Catechisms   ( rbgenr )
Gold stamped cloth (Binding)   ( local )
Black stamped cloth (Binding)   ( local )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
France -- Paris
General Note: Date from inscription.
General Note: With: Tommy and his broom, and other tales. London : Cassell, Petter, and Galpin, <1864?> and The hop garden: a story of town and country life. London: Cassell, Petter, and Galpin, <1864?>
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00003465
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002773944
oclc - 48561268
notis - ANQ2035
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Half Title
        Half Title 1
        Half Title 2
    Title Page
        Page i
        Page ii
    Table of Contents
        Page iii
        Page iv
        Page v
        Page vi
    Charley's lessons about animals
        Page 7
        Chapter: Introduction
            Page 7
            Page 8
            Page 9
            Page 10
        Chapter I: The sheep
            Page 11
            Page 12
            Page 13
            Page 14
            Page 15
            Page 16
            Page 17
            Page 18
            Page 19
            Page 20
            Page 21
            Page 22
            Page 23
        Chapter II: The ox
            Page 24
            Page 24a
            Page 25
            Page 26
            Page 27
            Page 28
            Page 29
            Page 30
            Page 31
            Page 32
        Chapter III: The hog
            Page 33
            Page 33a
            Page 34
            Page 35
            Page 36
        Chapter IV: The horse
            Page 37
            Page 37a
            Page 38
            Page 39
            Page 40
            Page 41
            Page 42
            Page 43
        Chpater V: The ass
            Page 44
            Page 44a
            Page 45
            Page 46
            Page 47
            Page 48
            Page 49
        Chapter VI: The dog
            Page 50
            Page 50a
            Page 51
            Page 52
            Page 53
            Page 54
            Page 55
            Page 56
            Page 57
        Chapter VII: The cat
            Page 58
            Page 58a
            Page 59
            Page 60
            Page 61
            Page 62
            Page 63
            Page 64
            Page 65
            Page 66
    Little Flora
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
Full Text


























S 7


S 24

.. 33

S 37


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. 69



H E following conversations
between a mother and her
children on the habits and uses of our
domestic animals were written with the
view of combining instruction with
amusement, as well as of training the
child at an early age to observe and
admire the wisdom and goodness of
God as shown in the works of creation.
The writer was also very desirous
that the children who read these pages
should be led to associate in their minds
the common objects of nature by which


they are surrounded, and which they
are daily accustomed to see, with
spiritual truths, thus making the sights
and sounds of the external world voices,
as it were, of the Unseen and Eternal,
Hence the frequent references to
Scripture in speaking of the different
animals described.

"The soul that sees Him or receives sublimed,
New faculties, or learns at least to employ
More worthily the powers she own'd before,
Discerns in all things what, with stupid gaze
Of ignorance, till then she overlook'd-
A ray of heavenly light, gilding all forms
Terrestrial in the vast and the minute;
The unambiguous footsteps of the God
Who gives its lustre to an insect's wing,
And wheels his throne upon the rolling worlds."
AfIarch 16th.


xUWaMUL. N9.1z




SEAR mamma," said little Char-
ley, running one morning into.-
the room, where his mamma was
seated at her work, "do you
remember what you promised Mary and me
one day, a long while ago ?"
"What are you thinking of, my boy ?" said
his mamma, smiling at Charley's question;
"I. have promised you a great many things at

xUWaMUL. N9.1z




SEAR mamma," said little Char-
ley, running one morning into.-
the room, where his mamma was
seated at her work, "do you
remember what you promised Mary and me
one day, a long while ago ?"
"What are you thinking of, my boy ?" said
his mamma, smiling at Charley's question;
"I. have promised you a great many things at


different times, but I really cannot guess what
you mean now."
"Why, don't you recollect that you were
reading in a beautiful large book with a great
many pictures in it, one day, and we asked.
you what it was, and whether we might read
it too, so you said that it was' rather too
difficult for us, but that some day, if we were
good children, you would show us the pic-
tures, and tell us all about them ?"
Let me see," said his mother, thinking a
moment; oh, I do believe I know now what
it was, It was a volume of Natural History
I was reading, Well, my child, I will try and
find time this afternoon, but I must finish my
work now. Go and tell nurse, that if you are
both good and obedient all the morning, she
may dress you after you have had your
dinner, and bring you to me in the drawing-
room, and then I will show you the pictures,
and talk to you about some of the animals."
"Oh, thank you, dear mamma !" cried
Charley, clapping his hands with joy. "I


must run and tell Mary, and nurse too; it will
be such a treat !"
So away he ran, eager to tell the good news
to his little sister, who was playing in the
"Mary! Mary !" cried he, I want to tell
you something. Do come and listen !"
"Yes, dear Charley, only wait one minute.
I am just dressing my doll, and then nurse is
going to take us a walk."
"Oh, I can't wait; do come now," said
Charley. "It is all about a great treat that
mamma has promised us this afternoon, if we
are good, obedient children, she says."
At this, little Mary threw down her doll,
and ran to meet her brother on the stairs.
"What is it, Charley ? tell me quick," cried
"Why, do you remember that beautiful
book full of pictures of all sorts of animals,
which we saw mamma reading one day ?"
"Oh yes," said Mary; "you asked her to
let us read it, and she said it was too difficult,


I remember it very well; and then she said
that some day, when she was not very busy,
she would show us the pictures, and talk to
us about them. Is that the great treat that
we are going to have this afternoon, Charley ?
Oh! that will be nice."
Just then their mamma came into the room,
and said to the maid :
"Eliza, I have promised the children that
they shall come to me this afternoon, if they
are quite good all the morning; so you may
dress them, and send them down to the
drawing-room as soon as they have finished
their dinner."
"Very well, ma'am," said nurse; "that will
be a great pleasure to them, I'm sure."
So this matter being settled, the children
were dressed for their morning's walk; and
after having had their dinner, they were sent
down to the drawing-room, where they found
their mamma seated at the table waiting for
them, with the book open before her ready to



SHERE is not one of our domestic
animals more serviceable to man
than the one before us," said Mrs.
Stanley, pointing to the picture
of a sheep. "Its flesh supplies him with food,
and its wool with warm clothing. Yo9u both
know what the flesh of the sheep is called-
do you not ?"
Mary. "Oh yes, mamma. It is called
Charley. "And my coat is made of wool,
for you told me so the other day, mamma."


Mary. "Is my frock made of wool, too ?"
Mrs. S. No, my dear, your frock is made
of the hair of the Alpaca, but your winter
mantle, which you find so comfortable, is
made of wool, and so are those nice warm
stockings that I bought for you the other day.
Blankets and flannel too, beside many other
warm materials, are made from the wool of
the sheep. Some day I will take you to
Farmer Brown's, to see his sheep sheared (for
so the process of cutting off the wool is
called). It is quite a busy time with the
farmers every season when the weather be-
comes warm."
Charley. "Oh, I should like to see them
sheared so much! when may we go,
mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "It is rather too early in the
spring, now, my dear, but about the first
week in May, if the weather be fine, I expect
the sheep-shearing will begin, for by that
time the sheep find their fleeces heavy, and
are very glad to get rid of them."


Mary. "Does the wool grow again on the
sheep's back, mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "Yes, my dear. Before the next
winter comes, the wool will have grown quite
long and thick, and the sheep will thus be
provided with nice coats to keep them warm
in the cold, frosty weather."
Charley. "When we were taking our walk
this morning we met old Thomas, the shep-
herd, with his dog, and he told us that he had
just been taking Farmer Brown's sheep on to
the down beyond the farm. They have such
a number-more than a hundred, I should
think. We saw them all in that pretty
sloping field above the stream, yesterday, and
Mary and I tried to count them, but we could
not; there were so many that we got quite
tired of counting."
Mrs. S. "I am not surprised at that, for
Farmer Brown has a very large flock, I know;
but what should you say if I were to tell you
that in some countries the flocks are so
niOerous as to consist of several thousands ?"



Charley. Oh, mamma! how can the shep-
herd take care of such a number ?"
Mrs. S. In Spain, where immense flocks
are kept chiefly for the sake of the wool,
which is particularly fine, and is called Merino
wool, they manage in this way: one man is
chosen as the principal shepherd, and under
him are placed several other men who are
supplied with boys and intelligent dogs. In
the summer the sheep are allowed to wander
on the mountains for the sake of the pas-
turage, and in the winter they are driven
down to the plains, and place in folds, where
they remain until the weather is sufficiently
warm for them to return, with their lambs, to
the mountains."
Mary. In what other countries have they
such immense flocks, mamma ?"
Mr. S. In South Africa, Australia, and
in many countries of Asia. Do you not re-
member when you were reading your lesson
in the Old Testament, about Abraham and
Lot the other day, how it was said that their


flocks and herds were so great that they were
not able to dwell together because there was
not food enough in the land for them all ?"
Charley. "Oh yes, mamma; and I remem-
ber reading that Isaac and Jacob had very
large flocks too."
Mrs. S. "You are quite right, my boy.
The chief riches of the patriarchs consisted
in their flocks and herds, and this is the case
now with the inhabitants of many parts of
Asia. But, having told you how the sheep
provide us with food and clothing, I must go
on to say something about their habits, which
are in many respects like those of the goat.
You know goats are very fond of climbing,
and you may often see them perched on the
very highest points of rock, where you would
fancy they had scarcely room to stand. Now
sheep have just the same love of clambering
about, in all sorts of dangerous places, as it
would seem to us. A sheep and her lamb
have been seen standing nearly half-way
down a lofty cliff above the sea."



Mary. "Oh, mamma! how frightened I
should have been if I had seen them. I
should have quite expected to see the poor
creatures fall, and be dashed to pieces."
Mrs. S. The gentleman who saYw them
was at first alarmed at their apparent danger,
but he was told by the boatman that it was
by no means an uncommon thing to see them
in such places, and that they would often
descend the face of the cliff in search of
herbage, and return the same way without
the least fear. Another peculiar habit of the
sheep is that of alivays following its leader
wherever he may choose to take him, so that
a flock of sheep have been known to jump
over the top of a precipice merely because
their leader happened to do the same thing."
Charley. "What poor, silly creatures they
were, not to look and see where they were
going before they jumped over."
Mrs. S. "And yet, my dear, too frequently
children, and even grown people, are no wiser
than these poor sheep, for how often do we

17 .

see them get into all sorts of danger and
difficulty, just by blindly following the
example of others, without stopping to con-
sider whether it be wise. or foolish."
Charley. "I think I shall remember this
story of the silly sheep, mamma, when I am
inclined to do a foolish thing because some
one else does it."
Mrs. S. "I, hope you will, my boy. But
now I must tell you how the shepherds in the
East, where the flocks are very large, take
advantage of this habit in sheep of following
their leader. They have a few pet sheep
which they train to follow them closely, and
come at their call (for the Eastern shepherds
go before their sheep instead of driving them
as they do in this country). .They then make
these trailed animals act 'as leaders to the
flock, and are thus able to bring a large num-
ber under their management."'
S Ciharley. "Are not sheep very apt to stray
away from the rest of the flock, mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "Yes, ;ny dear. The shepherd



has often a great deal of trouble and anxiety
in looking for sheep that have gone astray.
This propensity to wander is referred to in
the Book of Isaiah, where the prophet com-
pares sinners who have wandered away from
God to a stray sheep wandering from the
fold. You may find the verse, and read it,
Charley. "Here it is, mamma. The fifty-
third chapter and sixth verse-' All we like
sheep have gone astray; we have turned every
one to his own way ; and the Lord hath laid
on Him the iniquity of us all. "
Mrs. S. "There is a similar .reference in
the First Epistle of Peter, second chapter,
twenty-fifth verse."
Mary. "May I find it, mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "Yes, dear, and read it to us."
Mary. "'For ye were as sheep going
astray; but are now returned unto the Shep-
herd and Bishop of your souls. "
Mrs. S. You know who is meant by the
Shepherd, in this verse, do you not ?"


Mary. "Oh yes, mamma: Jesus Christ."
Mrs. S. "Yes, Jesus, the Good Shepherd,
as he calls himself in that beautiful chapter
which we were reading last Sunday afternoon.
Charley learnt a part of it: do you think you
can remember any of the verses now ?"
Charley. I will try. 'I am the Good Shep-
herd, and know my sheep, and am known of
mine. As the Father knoweth me, even so
know I the Father: and I lay down my life
for the sheep.
"'And other sheep I have, which are not of
this fold : them also I must bring, and they
shall hear my voice; and there shall be one
fold, and one shepherd. "
Mrs. S. There are also many allusions to
our Saviour,under the character of the shep-
herd of his flock, in the Old Testament. Can
you think of any, Mary ?"
Mary. "Yes, mamma. In the twenty-third
Psalm, David says: 'The Lord is my shep-
herd; I shall not want.
"'He maketh me to lie down in green



pastures: he leadeth me beside the still
waters.' "
Charley.." I remember another in the Book
of Isaiah, fortieth chapter and eleventh verse.
"'He shall feed his flock like a shepherd:
he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and
carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead
those that are with young.' "
Mrs. S. What beautiful words those are,
my dear children. How happy are they who
can say with David; 'The Lord is my shep-
herd; I shall not want,' And what care and
tenderness on the'part of the Good Shepherd
for the most helpless of his flock are ex-
pressed in the verse which Charley has just
repeated. Even children, such as you, are
not forgotten, or beneath his notice and regard.
If you are among the lambs of his fold, He
will lead you safely through all the dangers
and trials of this life, and at last bring you to
that happy world where there will be no
more fear of your wandering, from the right


Mary. I am so fond. of sheep and lambs.
They are such gentle creatures."
Mrs. S. "Yes, they are. I dare say you
remember that our Saviour is called in the
Scriptures, the Lamb of God. Why do you
think this name was given to him ?"
Charley. "I suppose it was because he was
so gentle, mamma, wasn't it ?"
Mrs. S. "Yes. That was one reason; for
among the Jews the lamb was considered an
emblem of gentleness and patience; and these
characteristics of the Saviour, Isaiah refers to
when he says: He was led as a lamb to the
slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers
is dumb, so he opened not his mouth.'
"You know that among the Jews the High
Priest daily offered a lamb as a sacrifice for
the sins of the people."
VMary. "Did God command the High
Priest to offer up the lamb, mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "Yes. God appointed this sacri-
fice to be made, as a type or emblem of that
great sacrifice which Christ offered on the



cross for sinners; and here you see the mean-
ing of those words which John used, -when
looking on Jesus, he said : 'Behold the Lamb
of God, which taketh away the sins of the
Charley. "Was not Jesus called a lamb
because he was so innocent too, mamma?"
Mrs. S. "You are quite right, my dear.
The lamb is also an emblem of innocence,
and our Saviour was perfectly pure and
holy, as St. Paul says : 'He was holy, harm-
less, undefiled, and separate from sinners.'
And now, my dear children," -said Mrs.
Stanley, looking at her watch, I find it is
your tea-time, so I will not keep you any
longer to-day. I have been so much pleased
with your attention, and the interest you have
shown in what I have said, that I feel quite
encouraged to go on with my lessons on
animals another day."
"Oh, thank yoi, dear mamma !" cried the
children; we have enjoyed the 'afternoon so


"Well, then," said Mrs. Stanley, "if that be
the case, I wjll promise you another treat of
the same kind, before long; and now put away
your chairs, and run up to the nursery, where
I have no doubt you will find your tea waiting
for you."

HE following week, as the children
were seated at the dinner-table,
Mrs. Stanley came into the
nursery, saying: "My dears, I find
I shall be disengaged this afternoon, so you
may come to me at three o'clock." Accord-
ingly, at the time appointed, Charley and
Mary made their appearance in the drawing-
room, looking very happy in the prospect of
hearing something more out of the Book of
Animals, as they called it.
Mrs. S. You remember, my dear children,
that our last week's lesson was about the


sheep; to-day, I am going to talk to you
about the ox, which is another of our most
useful domestic animals. Indeed, I scarcely
know what we should do without it, to so
many different purposes is it 'applied, both
living and dead."
Charley. Is not the flesh of the ox called
beef, mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "Yes, my dear. "The roast beef
of old England is a dish of far-famed re-
nown. We should find ourselves very much
at a loss if we were deprived of it."
Mary. "Yes, indeed, we should. Just
fancy how we should look when Christmas
Day comes, if we had no roast beef for
Mrs. S. "And then again we should be
equally at a. loss without milk, with which
the cow supplies us. What would you say
to having only bread and water for your
breakfast, instead of the nice basins of bread
and milk which Eliza makes for you every
morning ?"


Mary. Oh, mamma, I am sure I should
not like it at all. I am so fond of milk."
Charley. "Besides, if we had no milk, we
should have no butter; so we should be
obliged to eat dry bread. I shouldn't much
fancy that either."
Mrs. S. "No, you wouldn't have any but-
ter, nor any of those nice custard puddings
that cook is so famous for. And there is
something else that you are very fond of that
you would lose besides. Can you remember
what I mean ?"
Mary. I know. Cheese is made of milk,
so Charley would have no cheese for supper.
How would you like that, Master Charley ?"
Mrs. S. "We are so accustomed to these
things, that we use them without thinking
about them; but if we were to lose such
common articles of food, we should be
astonished to find how much our daily com-
fort depends on them."
Mary. "Will you tell me how butter is
made, mamma ?"

Mrs. S. "Yes, my dear. In the first place,
the fresh milk is left to stand for some hours
in large, shallow pans, until the cream has
risen. Then the cream is skimmed off, and
put into a wooden machine called a churn.
This machine has a handle, which the dairy-
maid works up and down, until the quick
motion causes the oily part of the cream to
separate from the liquid part, and thus by
rees form into butter. All that now re-
ns to be done, is to press the butter well
' m the hand, so as to squeeze out all the
butter-milk-as the liquid part is called;
mix a small quantity of salt with it, to pre-
vent its turning sour, make it up into shapes,
S and stamp.it with a wooden mould-of what-
ever pattern the dairy-maid may fancy. It is
then fit for the table. We will go into Mrs.
Brown's dairy some summer morning, and
ask her to let us watch her making up her
butter to take to market."
Mary. Oh, I should like that so much!
Mrs. Brown's dairy is such a nice cool place.




SShe called us in one day as we were passing
the farm, and gave us some milk. We were
very glad of it, for Charley and I had been
running about in the field until we were so
hot and thirsty."
Charley, "Now, mamma, will you tell us
how cheese is made ?"
Mrs, S. "The milk is turned into curds
and whey by mixing a sour fluid with it
called rennet. Only the curd is used for the
cheese, which is put into a round wooden
mould, of whatever size and thickness it is
intended that the -cheese shall be. The
mould containing the curd is then put into a
press, and a flat board fitting the mould is
screwed down upon it so tightly, that any
whey remaining with the curd, is forced out.
When sufficiently firm, the cheese is taken-out
of the mould, and set on a shelf to harden."
Charley. How do they make some cheese
such a dark colour, mamma?"
.Mrs. S. "By mixing colouring matter,
called anatto, with the curd. But many of


the richest cheeses, which are made in
Cheshire, Gloucestershire, and Somersetshire
-the famous cheese counties-are not co-
loured at all."
Mary. "Farmer Brown has just bought
some very pretty little cows. They were
driven into the field by the farm, yesterday,
as we were passing."
'Mrs. S. Those are called Alderney
cows. They are highly prized, on account of
the quantity and richness of the milk which
they give. They come from the Island of
Alderney, from which they take their name."
Charley. "Is the cow useful for anything
besides its flesh and milk! mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "Almost every part of the ox is
useful. Out of its horns are made combs,
drinking cupS, knife handles, lanterns, and
many other articles. Then the skins, when
tanned, furnish us with leather for boots,
shoes, and a great variety of other things.
And even the hair is employed to mix with
mortar, in order to make it hold together.


The glue which carpenters use is made from
its hoofs, and the parings of its hide. Its
bones, too, are used in different ways. In
South America, where the ox has become
wild, and roams in vast herds over the plains,
an immense number are killed every year,
merely for the sake of their hides, which are
sent over to this country to be manufactured
into leather."
Mary. "I remember you said the ox was
very useful when living, mamma. Will you
tell us what it is used for ?"
Mrs. S. "In some parts of England oxen
are used by. the farmers instead of horses,
both for ploughing and drawing, their wagons.
They are used in the same way in Switzer-
land and other countries of Europe. In.
South Africa, too, their travelling wagons
are drawn by oxen; very often as many as
eight or ten yoke of oxen may be seen draw-
ing a single wagon."
Charley. "Why do they use so many,
mamma ?"


Mrs. S. "Because the roads or tracks (for
they scarcely deserve the name of roads) are
so bad that the wheels of the wagon often
sink so deeply into the ground that a very
large team is necessary in order to travel
Mary. "I should not much enjoy travelling
in such a rough way as that."
Mrs. S. 1No, I dare say you wouldn't at
first. There, travelling is a very different
thing from what we are accustomed to in
England; our comfortable English carriages
would be of no use there, they would soon be
jolted to pieces.
Charley. Did not the Jews use the ox for
ploughing;I think I remember reading some-
thing about it in the Bible ?"
Mrs. S. "Yes. Don't you recollect that
Elisha is said to have been ploughing with
twelve yoke of oxen when the Prophet Elijah
passed by, and cast his mantle upon him ?"
Charley. Oh yes; I remember it quite
well now."



Mrs. S. "The ox was also used by the
Jews in treading out the corn. Instead of
threshing it with a flail, as we do in this
country, they turned in oxen on the barn-
floor to tread it out. This custom is referred
to in Deuteronomy, twenty-fifth chapter and
fourth verse, where it is said, 'Thou shalt
not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the
corn.' But we must leave off now, for I
have a letter to write before post time; but
before you go I think I will fix on this day
week, which will be Thursday, for our next
lesson. So at three o'clock on that day you
will be ready, will you ?"
"Yes, mamma," said the children; "we
shall be sure not to forget."



T the appointed time in the follow-
ing week the children made their
appearance in the drawing-room,
full of eager anticipation, and
wondering'what their next lesson was to be
"Oh, mamma !" cried little Mary, in a dis-
appointed tone, as she was peeping over her
mother's shoulder at the picture before her;
"what an ugly great pig! I don't like pigs
at all; I don't want to hear about such dis-
agreeable, dirty creatures."
Mrs. S. "Stop little, my dear, and I
'think that when we have talked a little about

,...;. .-.


them, and you hear how useful they are to
us, though they are, as you say, ugly-looking
animals, you will be inclined to feel more
kindly towards them. In the first place, the
flesh of the pig is very valuable as an article
of food. Do you know what it is called,
Charley ?"
Charley. Pork, isn't it, mamma ?"
1Mrs. S. "Yes; and some parts of the pig
are salted, and thus made into bacon and
ham, which you and Mary were enjoying so
much at breakfast this morning. You did
not think of that, did you, Mary, when you
were speaking so strongly against the poor
animals, just now ?"
"No, mamma," said Mary, looking very
M1rs. S. "The skin of the pig is made into
leather, and used for making saddles, and
then the bristles are used for brushes, and
also by shoemakers instead of needles; so
you see the animal is turned to account in a
variety of ways."



Charley. "I, have a picture in one of my
books. of a boar-hunt. Are there any wild
boars in England, mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "Not now, my dear; but in
former times, when this country was much
more covered with forests than it is now,
these animals were very abundant, and
chasing the boar was quite a favourite
amusement. They still hunt the boar in
Germany, and other parts of the world,
though this sport has been long given up
S in this country. In its wild state the boar
is a very fierce animal, and so active that
it is frequently even swifter by far than a
hCarley. "When we were walking, yester-
S day, we met Farmer Brown's man driving a
number of pigs into the oak wood, and we
asked him what he was doing it for, and he
S said that pigs were very fond of 'acorns, and
S there were plenty fallen under the trees, so
they would be able to make a good meal."
Mrs. S. "In former times this was quite


a common habit; a man, called a swineherd,
who had the charge of the pigs, used to drive
them into the forest in the morning, where
they remained all day, and were brought
home at night. They had large herds of
swine in those days, for pork was a very
favourite article of food amongst the Saxons,
and from them arose the old English cus-
tom of bringing in the boar's head with
great ceremony at Christmas time, gaily
adorned with holly and evergreens. And
now, my dears, you may have a game with
your battledores and shuttlecocks for an hour
before tea, for I am obliged to go out this
afternoon; next Thursday, remember, I shall
be ready for you again."
"Thank you, dear mamma," cried the
children, and away they ran, having enjoyed
their lesson much more than they had at first



ELL, my dears," said Mrs. Stan-
ley, "are you quite ready
for your lesson, this after-
noon ?"
"Yes, mamma," said the children.
"Then bring me the book, Charley, and I
will see where we left off. Oh, here is the
place; I find the lesson for to-day is about
the horse. First of all, if you like, you may
both of you look at the picture, which I
think is a very pretty one."


What a beautiful horse! just like papa's,"
cried little Mary.
Mrs. S. Yes, it is. The horse is another
of our domestic animals which is most
valuable. It has been made serviceable to
man, as a beast of burden, for many ages,
and there are few animals capable of more
attachment to their owners, if kindly treated.
Though such large and powerful creatures,
by gentle management they become as obe-
dient and tractable as a child. You may
often see a horse following his master about,
like a dog, and when used requiring neither
whip nor spur, but obeying him simply by the
tones of his voice."
Charley. "-John says that his horses under-
stand everything he says to them as well as a
Mirs. S. "Yes, they are most intelligent
creatures, and they have, besides, excellent
memories, which on many occasions have
proved most serviceable to their masters. I
remember reading an anecdote of a gentle-


man having gone on horseback to visit a
friend, along a road on which he had only
travelled for the same purpose once before.
After riding a few miles the night closed in,
and being very dark and. stormy, he lost his
way. He did not know what to do. At
length he was so perplexed that he threw the
reins on his horse's neck, leaving him to go
which way he would. Most fortunately, the
animal happened to have a better memory
than his master, for in a short time the gen-
tleman found himself before the door of his
friend's house."
h Charley. "Well, I declare, that was a clever
S-creature; how proud his master must have
been of him. I should like to have such a
S horse as that-shouldn't you, Mary?"
S l Mary. "I think I would rather have a little
S pony like Cousin Ellen's. Are ponies young
horses, mamma ?"
: Mrs. S. No, my dear; a young horse is
called a colt, and horses below a certain
height are called ponies. They differ very



much as to size, some being nearly as high as
a horse, while others are extremely small."
Charley. "When we were staying at Uncle
Robert's, last year, a lady came to call on
Aunt Emily in a little open carriage drawn
by two such funny little ponies, not much
bigger than large dogs, with such shaggy
manes and tails."
Mrs. S. "Ah, it was your aunt's friend,
Mrs. Campbell. She drives a pair of Shet-
land ponies. They are so called from the
name of the islands on the north of Scotland,
where they are found almost in a wild state
Though so very small they are remarkably
strong and active little creatures, and will run
a long distance at a very good speed without
being over-tired."
Charley. "Where does the horse come
from, mamma ?"
Mrs. S. It is supposed to have originally
come from Asia. In Tartary, which is a
country in Central Asia, the horse is found
in a wild state roaming over the plains in


immense herds. The horse is also found wild
on the plains (or prairies as they are called)
of North America."
Mary. "Do people ever catch them,
mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "Oh yes; the Tartars and Ame-
ricans frequently hunt them, and though
they find them at first fierce and unmanage-
able, they soon succeed in taming them and
training them for use."
Charley. Do you know when horses were
first used, mamma ?"
SMrs. S. No, my dear, I really cannot tell
you. We read in ancient history of their
being used by the Greeks and Romans, as
well as by the Egyptians. I dare say you
i remember reading in the Bible that when the
Israelites were escaping from Pharaoh, King
of Egypt, he pursued them with chariots and
1 .orses. Now this event happened more than
three thousand years ago, and we cannot tell
how long before the Egyptians were in the
habit of using horses in battle."



Mary. "Did the Jews use horses too,
mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "Not-until the reign of King
Solomon. In the Book of Kings, when
speaking of the riches of Solomon, it is
said that he had horses brought out of
Egypt; and after that they appear to have
been used by the Jews both in battle
and on state occasions, but for ordi-
nary purposes they employed the ass and
the ox."
Here Mrs. Stanley was interrupted by the
children's nurse, who came to tell them that
their tea was ready.
"Oh, dear!" cried Mary, "is it tea-time
already? I did not think it was so late--
how fast the time has gone !"
Charley. "Yes, indeed it has. We have
had such a nice lesson this afternoon, that
I am quite sorry it has come to an
Mrs. S. "I am very glad you have en-
joyed it, my dears. I hope you will be as


S well pleased with the next. However, we
must not keep -nurse waiting any longer, so

put away your chairs, and run up-stairs as
fast as you can."

_____ 3

o ~ 7~




" u HARDLY know whether our
ci lesson for to-day will be so
7 pleasant to you as the last, my
dear children," said Mrs. Stan-
ley, "for the ass is by no means such a
general favourite as the horse. Indeed, by
some people the poor creature is much des-
pised, and often meets with very ill-usage.
This ought not to be so, for the donkey is
very useful in many ways, and especially to
those who are too poor to keep a horse; and
it deserves kindly, gentle treatment, quite as
much as any other animal."


THE Ass. 45

Charley. "I cannot bear to see the village
boys teasing old Mrs. Brown's donkey as
they do. I am sure it works hard enough
in carrying her fruit and vegetables to market
every day, and ought to have a little rest;
but as soon as ever she has turned it out on
the green, after she comes home, those rude,
ill-natured fellows set upon the poor creature
with sticks and stones, and torment it in
every way they can think of."
firs. S. "This habit of teasing animals is
unfortunately a too common fault among
boys, both poor and rich; but it is very
wicked and cruel, and I earnestly hope that
you, my dear Charley, may never be tempted
to indulge in it.
"It is quite surprising to see what a dif-
ferent-looking animal the donkey is when
carefully tended and well-fed, from the poor,
half-starved, wretched creature we commonly
S I remember when I was young, my
father bought a donkey for some of the


family to ride, and being kept in the stable
with the horses, where it was carefully
groomed and well-fed by the coachman, it
grew such a handsome creature, that it was
very much admired, and quite a high price
was offered for it. It certainly well repaid
the care and kindness bestowed upon it.
However, I hope brighter days are in store
for this hitherto much neglected and hardly
used animal, for now that donkey shows are
established, and prizes offered to their
owners, it will become their interest to treat
them kindly."
Charley. "Is our English ass the same as
the Eastern, mamma?"
Mrs. S. "It is of the same .species, but as
the ass generally grows larger in warm coun-
tries, both the Eastern and Spanish asses are
much finer and handsomer animals than
English ones. In the East the ass still con-
tinues to be generally employed both for
riding and as -a beast of burden. In early
Jewish history-even kings and princes were

THE Ass,

accustomed to ride on asses; but after the
S horse was introduced, it was thought a mark
of humility to use them in such away.
Allusion is made to this in the book of
Zechariah, where the prophet speaks thus of
our Saviour: 'Behold, thy King cometh unto
thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly,
and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the
foal of an ass.'
Mary. "We were reading about wild asses
in our Bible lesson the other day; where do
they come from, mamma ?"
S Mrs. S. "They are found in Persia, India,
and Thibet; and there are several kinds of
wild ass in Africa also. These animals espe-
cially frequent hilly and rocky ground. This
habit is referred to in the Book of Job, in
these words:
"' Who hath sent out the wild ass free ? or
who hath loosed the bands of the wild ass ?
The range of the mountains is his pas-
ture, and he searcheth after every green
thing.' 4

i ,,4


"They are extremely swift, so that hunt-
ing them is a favourite sport amongst the
natives of those countries where they abound.
But you are looking very merry, Charley.
What amuses you ?"
Charley. "Why, mamma, I was just think-
ing what fun we used to have last year when
our cousins Robert and Johnny were stay-
ing with us at Hastings. You know we
used to have donkey rides, and very often
we had races together. Oh, it was capital
fun. I hope we shall have some more
rides next year. Do you think we shall,
mamma ?"
Mrs. S. "We may, perhaps, but next sum-
mer is a long way off. However, if all is
well, and you are both good, industrious
children, it is not unlikely that I may take
you somewhere to the sea, for a little change,
and then you mqy manage to get some
donkey rides again.
"And now I see it is getting late, so we
will finish our lesson, for I am going out

THE AsS. 4

this evening. Here, Charley, you may put
away the book for me, while I am getting



mamma," cried the children,
i .are we going to have a lesson
about dogs to-day? That will
be nice."
Mrs. S. "I thought you would be pleased,
my dears. The dog is such a general fa-
vourite, both with children and grown people,
and not without reason, for like the horse, it
is quite remarkable for its intelligence, and
its affectionate disposition, and is capable of
being made both the friend and companion
of its owner."


Mary. ".That picture is just like our dog
Nelson. What a fine fellow, isn't he, Char-
ley ?"
CharZey (looking at the picture). Yes,
that he is. It is a Newfoundland dog, isn't
it, mamma ?"
MrsS. "You are quite right, my boy,
and a very handsome creature he is. These
fine and powerful animals are great favourites
in this country, being especially distinguished
for their strong attachment to their mas-
ters, as well as for their extraordinary sa-
"They are excellent water dogs, and in
this respect often prove extremely useful in
saving the lives of men and children who
have fallen into the water. Indeed, I have
read an account of one of these noble ani-
mals saving a whole ship's crew, by taking a
rope in its mouth, and carrying it from the
vessel to the shore."
Mary. "We often make Nelson carry our
basket for us when we are gathering wild


flowers; it pleases him so, and he does it so
Mrs. S. "Yes, Newfoundland dogs are
particularly fond of fetching and carrying
things. They will often run a long way to
pick up a stick, or umbrella, that has been
"When I was living in the country some
years ago, we had a remarkably handsome
dog of this kind, called Oscar, who was a
very great pet with us all, and having trained
him> from a puppy, he became exceedingly
obedient and greatly attached to our family.
He was a most effectual guard at night, and
by day was the constant companion of my
sisters and myself in our country rambles,
and an excellent protector he was, never
quitting us without leave. Being a capital
swimmer, we often took him to the river
to amuse himself, but he invariably waited
for us to say, 'You may go, Oscar,' before he
attempted to run forward; then, on obtaining
leave, he would start off in such glee, spring



off te bank into the water, and plunge about
ir his heart's content.
"When we were assembling for our daily
walk, Oscar would look round to see if,,all of
us were there, and if one were absent, he
would run up-stairs to the room-door of the
missing one, and scrape and whine until she
minade her appearance."
Charley." How fond you must have been
of him. What became of him, mamma ?"
S Mrs. S. "When we gave up living in the
; country we were obliged to part with him, but
S the poor fellow was very unwilling to leave us,
S and after we had sold him, he was continually
S running away from his new master, who lived
in a town some miles off, and trying to gain
. an entrance to his old home once more."
S- Mary. "Had you any other dogs beside
Oscar, mamma?"
S Mrs. S. "Not at the same time, but before
he was given to, us we had a little white
S terrier, which was also-a remarkably intelligent
animal as well as a capital rat-catcher. I will


tell you a story about this dog which I think
will interest you. Fan (as she was called)
was always left to run about the house at
night, being very sharp, and at once giving
alarm by barking violently if she heard any
unusual noise. Our cottage had wooden
shutters to all the rooms on the ground floor
which fastened outside, and it was Fan's habit
to go out in the garden with the servant every
evening when she went round to fasten them.
One evening, however, after the shutters were
all shut, Fan was observed to be unusually
restless, barking and keeping on running into
the dining-room, as if she wanted to. attract
my brother's attention to something at the
window. She would rush up to it, and then
back again to him, at the same time barking
and apparently very uneasy. For sometime
he could not imagine what was the matter,
but at length he saw that the window had
accidentally been left a little way open by
the servant after she had closed the shutters.
This at once explained the mystery, and the


Gaus of. the dog's uneasiness, for directly it
ii.shut, Fan left off barking, and seemed
S quite pleased and satisfied."
Charley. "Well, I declare, that was curious.
I should never have thought a dog would
have noticed such a thing. What a sharp
little creature !"
Mrs. S. "Yes. It certainly was a singular
instance of intelligence in a dumb animal, but
it is really astonishing to see how much sense
they often display in various ways."
SMary. "Oh, mamma, do tell us about those
good dogs that save the poor travellers when
they are lost in the snow."
Mrs. S. "Ah, you mean the St. Bernard
dogs, as they are called, from the name of the
monastery which is built on the top of Mount
St. Bernard, in Switzerland, The monks who
live there are in the habit of training these
famous dogs to seek for any poor travellers
who may be overtaken by one of the snow-
storms which so frequently occur in those
S mountain regions. Whenever one of these



dogs discover a traveller in any danger or
difficulty, he at once gives notice by loudly
barking, and the monks, hearing the voice of
the dog, immediately come to the aid of the
sufferer, and by this means many poor men
have been saved who would otherwise have
perished miserably in the snow."
Charley. We have a great many other kinds
of dogs in this country besides those you have
.been telling us about, haven't we, mamma ?"
AMrs. S. "Oh yes, my dear. There are all
the varieties of hounds and spaniels which are
used for hunting and sporting, and then there
is that most useful and intelligent animal, the
shepherd's dog, of which I had occasion to
speak to you in our first lesson about the
sheep, besides many others which I have not
time to do more than mention, such as the
mastiff, bulldog, carriage-dog, and various kinds
of terrier.
"I have already kept you longer than I in-
tended, and now I find I must send you up- h
stairs, for I am expecting some friends to see


TT -; :-.- :; .-; --- .7 .-*** -*-* -- -*.:-*-*, .. -* -
f" .-

i. T DOG.



me this evening, and there is the hall-door bell
ringing, I declare, so run off to the nursery
now, and next- Thursday I shall be ready for

you again."

0:, .AW!



"ELL, my dears," said Mrs. Stan-
ley, "what do you say to hear-
ing something about your fa-
vourite pussy to-day ? For that,
I find, will be the subject of this afternoon's
Mary. "I am very glad of that, mamma;
ve shall like it so much."
Mrs. S. I dare say you will want to know
in the first place where our domestic cat comes
from. It is now thought by many naturalists
that it derives its origin from the Egyptian
rather than from the wild cat of this country,

* T -zE -CAT ."

ai generally been supposed, but this still
remains a disputed point. Many people have
a dislike to cats, and think them very inferior
to dogs, both in disposition and intelligence,
and I must say I do not myself think them
so good-tempered and affectionate generally.
They sometimes show a good deal of jealousy
towards other petted animals. I remember
we once had a cat which invariably walked
out of the kitchen if the cook took any notice
of a poor little kitten which had strayed into
the house, looking half starved, and which the
cook had therefore taken compassion upon,
and allowed to take up its abode with her.
This seemed greatly to displease Mrs. Pussy,
who looked upon the kitten as an intruder.
However, I have read and heard of instances
where cats have shown strong attachment to
their owners."
Mary. "I am sure our pussy is very fond
of us. Directly we come down in the morn-
ing she begins purring, and ,eems so pleased
when we stroke her."



Charley, "I wonder what old Betty Brown
would say if she were to lose her cat. When-
ever I go into her cottage there is puss seated
in front of the fire, looking so comfortable,
and if she walks out in her garden the cat is
sure to follow her."
Mrs. S. Her cat is a very great comfort
to her, poor thing, and she is naturally glad
to make a companion of it, leading such a
lonely life as she does. I remember my
eldest brother had a pet cat when he was at
college, which amused him excessively. It
used to come into his bedroom every morn-
ing, and if he was asleep would jump up on
his bed and wake him by patting his face
with her paw. When he was taking his meals
he used to place a chair by his side for pussy,
who considered it her privilege to sit at the
table with her master. We once had a cat
which we were in the habit of feeding while
we were taking our dinner; on one occasion,
however, we sent her plate of food down into
the kitchen, desiring the servant to feed her

THE CA T. 61

there. To our surprise and amusement, how-
ever, in a short time Mary came up to the
dining-room, carrying the plate of meat in
her hand, at the same time saying, 'Puss
won't touch her dinner down-stairs, ma'am,
S and I've tried her with it in the hall, but she
won't eat it there, neither.' 'Very well,
S Mary,' we said, 'put it down here, and let us
see whether she will eat it then.' Accord-
ingly, directly the plate was set down in the
usual corner of the dining-room, puss walked
in and ate up her food with the greatest
relish. She was evidently affronted at being
sent into the kitchen, and considered it quite
beneath her dignity to take her meals there."
.MIary, "How very droll. She was a proud
pussy indeed."
Charley. "When we were staying at Uncle
Robert's, last year, they were very much sur-
prised by seeing a cat of theirs walk into the
dining-room, while we were all at breakfast,
which they had given away some days before
to a friend who lived several miles off. They


could not imagine how the creature had
found its way back, for it was sent away
packed up in a basket."
Mrs. S. I have heard many anecdotes
related of this strange sort of power, or in-
stinct as it seems to be, which cats possess, of
finding their way back to their old home even
when they have been sent long distances off."
Charley. "You were speaking a little while
ago of wild cats, mamma; have you ever
seen one ?"
Mrs. S. "No, my dear; they are not at all
common in England, now, and I do not think
any have been seen in this part of the country
for many years. A friend of ours, who lived
in Derbyshire, told us that they are some-
times seen in the woods there, but they are
becoming more and more scarce. They are
also occasionally met with in the rocky and
woody districts in the north of Scotland."
Charley. "Are they very different looking
from common cats ?"
Mrs. S. "They are much stronger and


larger animals, and have shorter and more
bushy tails, and when attacked or disturbed
while engaged in devouring their prey are ex-
tremely fierce."
Charley. "What do they feed upon,
Mrs. S. "They live upon rabbits and all
kinds of game, and if there happen to be a
farm in their neighbourhood, will sometimes
carry off lambs and fowls. And now, having
finished all that I wish to say to you this
afternoon, I should like you both to have a
run in the garden for half an hour before tea."
"May we take our hoops, mamma ?" said
"Yes, my dear; you can run tip and down
the south terrace walk. It is more sheltered

: *' ** *

,u dii


EXT Thursday Charley and Mary
came down into the drawing-
room, expecting to find their
mamma ready for them, as usual,
but to their surprise and disappointment, she
was not there.
After waiting some time, however,. Mrs.
Stanley made her appearance, with an open
letter in her hand, saying: I have just re-
ceived this letter from your Aunt Ellen, my
dear children, the contents of which will, I


have no doubt, give you great pleasure. Can
S either of you guess what it is about ?"
Charly. "I do believe I know, mamma.
ur cousins, Robert and Johnny, are coming
to spend their holidays with us."
Mrs. S. Not exactly that, my boy; in-
stead of their coming to us, your aunt has
kindly invited us to spend some weeks with
S "Oh!" cried the children, clapping their
hatds in the greatest delight, "are we really
going to London? What a capital treat
that will be! How soon are we going,
mamma ?"
AMrs. S. "Your aunt wishes us to come the
middle of next week, and as you have both
been good children, lately, I have decided to
accept the invitation? I shall be extremely-
busy for the next few days, making all the
necessary preparations for our visit, so you
see our lessons will be interrupted for some
time. I have been talking to you, in our
weekly lessons, about domestic animals, and


on our return home, I intend, if I can
manage to spare the time, to say something
to you about wild ones. When we are in
town, I mean to take you to the Regent's
Park Zoological Gardens. They are very
near your uncle's house, so I shall have
/frequent opportunities of going with you.
You will there see a great variety of beasts,
birds, and reptiles, from all parts of the world,
and I think that on our return home, it will
amuse and instruct you both, for me to tell
you a little about some of them. But run
upstairs now, and tell nurse that I want to
see her, for I must talk to her about the
travelling arrangements."
We will here take leave of Mrs. Stanley
and her children for the present, hoping that
the pleasure of a visit to the great city, with
its numerous objects of interest and amuse-
ment, may equal, if not exceed their brightest

-.. :



Page 69.



AM now going to tell you some
stories of a little girl whose
name was Flora. I think you
will like to hear something about
her, because she was about as old as you are
-four years old; and wheri you hear of
anything she did that was good, you canr try
to be like her, and you can try to cure your-
self of your faults and naughty tricks, ti the
same way that she did.
Little Flora was a very nice little child,
and very seldom naughty, because she tried,
as well as she could, to do everything that


her mamma desired; but she sometimes
vexed her mamma a little, because no little
children, or big people either, are always
good. And I will tell you what way she
was naughty:_ she was sometimes cross
to ier nurse, and to her little sisters, and
quarrelled with them about their playthings,
which was very wrong, because as she was
the eldest, she ought to indulge and play
with the little ones, and teach them to be
good, instead of being cross herself; and
sometimes she was not very obedient to her
mamma: I mean, she did not come and go,
or do whatever she was told in a minute, but
used to stop, and ask questions, instead of
running that very moment.
But you will be glad to hear that
whenever she had not been good, and
had displeased her mamma, she was sure
to beg her pardon, and be very sorry for
it afterwards. And she never forgot in
her prayers, every morning and night, to
pray to God to make her good, because






her mamma had explained to her that
children can never be good, unless they pray
to God to make them so, and Jhe will be
sure to help them if they wish to be good
in earnest.
There was one wicked thing that Flora
never did: she never told a lie about any-
thing, not even to hide anything that she
did wrong; for when she was a very little
child, her mamma taught her what a very
wicked and terrible thing that was, and that
God heard every word that she said. So
it was a great pleasure to her mamma that
she could believe every word that Flora
The house where Flora's mamma lived
had a beautiful green field before the door,
and all round the field was a nice, dry,
gravel walk, and every day Flora was al-
lowed to walk, run, or gallop, as she pleased,
round the gravel walk. And in summer,
when the hay was making,'her mamma let
her play in the field, and tumble about in



the hay, and make little nests in it, and it
was fine fun.
But she did not go into the meadow before
the hay was cut, because it was very often
so damp that her frock and shoes and
stockings would be all wet in the long grass.
And, besides which, it was not right to
trample down the grass that the poor horses
and cows were to eat, as soon as it was
turned into hay.
Now, on one side of the gravel walk
there was a nice garden, and there was a
little low gate that opened into it. Very
often Flora was allowed to go in, and run
about to smell the delightful flowers, and
sometimes her mamma allowed her to pull
a few pansies, pinks, and wallflowers, but
not roses, because there are thorns in the
There was a great deal of nice fruit in the
garden too: strawberries, and cherries, and
raspberries, and currants.
When Flora was a very little ckild, and had



not much sense, her mamma did not like to
trust her in the garden, for fear she should eat
the fruit and make herself sick; but when
she grew a little older, and when she knew
that she ought only to take what her mamma
gave her, she would not for the world touch
a single currant, or strawberry, or any fruit;
and by the time she was four years old, I am
sure if her mamma desired her to gather
some strawberries, and to bring them to
her, she would put them into a leaf, and
bring them all to her, and would not touch
one of them.
One fine, warm day, Flora was playing on
Sthe gravel walk that I told you about; she
had a nice little cart that her mamma had
given her: it was painted white, with black
stripes, and it had red wheels; but it was not
heavy, and Flora was able to draw it about
very easily by a long handle. I will tell you
what she was doing with it: she was pulling
up all the weeds that grew in the gravel
walk, and putting them into her cart; and



when she had pulled up a great many weeds,
and almost filled her cart, she drew it near
to a hole, and threw them all in, and then
she went back for more.
She took great care when she came to
any snails or worms, not to hurt them, or
trqad on them, but put them softly down on
the grass, for she was not so foolish as to
be afraid to touch them, like some little
By-and-by her mamma came out of the,
garden, through the little gate, with the car-
penter walking behind her, and her mamma
came up to Flora, and was quite glad to see
what a nice clean part of the gravel there
was where Flora had pulled up the weeds;
and she kissed Flora, and when she was going
away, she said,-
"My dear, I would rather you would not
go into the garden to-day, but stay and
play here."
And Flora said: May I go into the gar-
den to-morrow ?"



And her mamma said: "No, not to-mor-
row. Do not go in until I tell you; and then
I will take you in myself, and show you
something pretty."
"And why may I not go in now?" said
"Never mind that, my dear," said her
mamma; "only do what I desire you."
"Oh," said Flora, "but I want to know
the reason why I may not go in. And be-
sides, I am tired of playing here, and I want
to go into the garden."
Then her mamma was not quite pleased,
and she said,-
"Little children ought to do what their
mammas bid them, without asking any ques-
Stions; and mammas need never tell little
children why they desire them to do any-
thing; and you are a silly little child to
be tired of playing here, because I desired
you not to go into the garden: but since you
are tired, you had better go in and say your


So Flora went in with her mamma, but she
was very idle saying her lesson; for the whole
time, instead of trying to spell the words well,
she was thinking and wondering what was in
the garden, and why her mamma would not
let her in.
In the evening little Flora went out again
to play on the gravel walk, and she went up to
the garden gate, and she peeped, and looked,
and tried to see into the garden, but she could
not see anything, because there was a great
apple-tree close to the door, and a thick hedge
of gooseberries and currant bushes, and she
could not see through it, so presently while
she was peeping, the carpenter came out of
the garden with a hammer and some nails,
and a bundle of sticks in his hand, and Flora
"Carpenter, what are you doing in the
garden with those sticks ?"
And the carpenter said:
"Oh, miss, I was busy with a job of work
for your mamma, in the garden, but J am in a


hurry to get home to my supper, so I can't
stop to talk to you."
So the carpenter shut the gate and latched
Sit, and went away. And then, I am sorry to
say, a very naughty thing came into Flora's
head, and she said to herself, "I will try and
get into the garden;" and she tried to reach
up to the latch to open the gate, but it was
too high for her to reach; then she tried to
climb over the little gate, and began to
scramble over as fast as she could. Just as she
was getting down into the garden by the other
side of the gate, her frock caught upon a nail,
and down she fell upon both her hands and
.knees on the gravel. She was a good deal
hurt, for the gravel scratched her hands and
got into the skin, and Flora began to cry and
" make such a noise, that her mamma came
. running out, and when she saw her lying on
Sthe gravel, she was very much vexed indeed,
: to see that her little child had done what she
S.forbade her. She then took her in her arms
: and carried her into the house, and said to her:


"Now, Flora, you see what has happened
to you because you were disobedient to me;
you have hurt yourself and displeased me,
and what is worse, you forget that every time
you are disobedient to your papa or mamma,
you displease God. When you are a little
older, and are able to read the Bible, you will
see that God will punish all little children who
do not honour their father and mother, and
honour means to do what they desire you
and to try to please them."
Flora went on still crying, for her hands
were smarting, and she cried too, because her
mamma was not pleased. Then her mamma
said :
"Come up-stairs and I will wash the gravel
out of your hands, in cold water, and I hope
the soreness of the smarting will make you
remember all this another time."
So when her mamma had washed her hands
and picked out all the gravel, and the pain
had ceased, her mamma brought her down-
stairs, and Flora said she was.very sorry, and



then her mamma told her she would not be
angry with her, but she said:
"Now, Flora, since you wish so much to go
into the garden, I will tell you what you can
do;" and Flora put her arms round her
mamma's neck, and said:
"Oh, mamma, I won't go into the garden
till you wish;" her mamma said:
"I know you will not, but listen to what I
am going to say. This is Wednesday evening
and if you are a good child every day till
Saturday evening, and don't vex me by doing
anything naughty, we will go into the garden
if it is fine and warm, papa and I, and little
sister Lucy, and your cousins, Nancy and
George, and we will have a pleasant game of
play, and you shall see what I promised you."
Then Flora clapped her hands and was
quite in delight, and said
"Oh! that will be so nice; but, mammal
how many days will it be to Saturday ?" and
her mamma said:
"Try and reckon yourself, you know to



morrow will be Thursday, and that will be
one day-"
"Yes," said Flora, "and then comes Friday,
that makes two days, and then Saturday
makes three days."
"Yes," said her mamma; "but don't forget
what I told you: that if you displease me by
being ill-tempered or disobedient, or quarel-
ling, or anything of that kind, you are not to
go irn on Saturday, and then you must begin
three days more and *vait till Tuesday6."
"But, mamma," said Flora, how will you
remember whether I am good or naughty, for
so many days ?"
"Never fear that," said her mamma; "but
I will show you how you may remember your-
self ;" and her mamma went to her writing-
box and took out a piece of paper, and then
she wrote in great large letters, THURSDAY,
FRIDAY, and SATURDAY on the paper,
and she made little Flora spell it a great
many times, until she knew the words pretty
well, and then she said: "Now, Flora, every



night when you are goirg to bed, dome to me
and bring me this paper, and if you have been
,: a good girl all day I will write good inside the
S name of that day, and I will print it so that
you can read it yourself, for I know that you
can spell good: and if anything should be the
matter, or if you have been naughty (but I
hope you won't), I must write the word bad;
you can spell that word too, but I hope there
will be no such wordy"
"Oh, I hope not," said Flora, "I hope I
may be good, that I may go into the garden
on Saturday."
"I hope so too," said her mamma; "but is
there no other reason why you would like to
be good, besides going into the garden ?'W
and Flora thought a little while and then
Yes, mamma, to make you pleased with
S "Yes," said her mamma, "that is a very
Good reason; but to -try to please. God must
be the first reason: for if you behave well.


and God loves you, it is better than if you
went into a hundred gardens."
Little Flora did not quite understand this,
because she was so very young, but she under-
stood very well that she was to try to be good,
and when she grew a little older, she remem-
bered what her mamma told her about pleas-
ing God,
So now when it was past eight o'clock she
kissed everybody, and said her prayers, and
went into her little bed and fell fast asleep.
The next day it was very sunny and warm,
and after Flora had said her lessons, her
mamma said
"Flora, it is time f6r you to get your
luncheon, and I think you had better take
it out with you, and eat it out walking:
but the sun is too hot on the gravel walk, so
go to the avenue where there is a nice shady
So Flora got her piece of bread and butter,
and she went out to walk with her nurse In
tne avenue it was so pleasant and shady, that



there she could run and skip about without
S making herself too hot, and she saw such a
number of cowslips and bluebells growing on
the bank that she forgot to eat her bread and
||>, butter, but ran about making a nosegay; but
she could not find any of her favourite flowers
(the primrose) because this was summer and
I primroses only blow in spring.
So when Flora and her nurse got down
to the avenue gate she saw a poor woman
and two little children outside the gate.
The poor woman was sitting on a stone,
With a little baby in her lap, and the other
little child was standing beside her, looking
through the gate into the avenue; it was
0 a little boy, not nearly so big as Flora, for
he was only two years old, and he had a
little stuff petticoat on, but it was very
ragged, with a great many tears and slits
i n it.
~ When Flora saw these poor people, she
jan and took hold of her nurse's hand, for
hie was sometimes a little afraid of strange



people, and her nurse went up to speak to
the poor woman, and to ask her what she
wanted; and while she was speaking to
her, the little boy put his hands through the
rails of the gate, and looked at Flora, and
began to cry.
And Flora said, "What is he crying
for ?"
The poor woman said, "Oh, miss, he is
crying because he sees the bread and butter
in your hand, and he is ~ery hungry
because he has had nothing to eat all
Then Flora whispered to her nurse, and
said, "Nurse, may I give my bread and
butter to this little boy ?"
And nurse said, I am afraid if you give
it to him you will be hungry yourself, be-
cause I have no bread in the nursery, and
the fresh bread is not baked yet."
And Flora said, "Oh, that is no matter,
I will give it to the poor little child; you
know, nurse, I had a good breakfast this


morning, and he had nothing to eat the
whole day."
So Flora gave him the bread and butter,
; a:nd you never saw such joy as the poor
little boy was in. He stopped crying, and
gobbled it all up in a minute, he was so
very hungry, and his mother thanked Flora
a. hundred times, and little Flora was more
happy than if she had eaten it twenty
Then Flora began to run home to tell her
Smamma all this, but nurse stayed a little
while to talk to the poor woman, and when
she came up to Flora, Flora said:
"Nurse, what were you saying to that
poor woman?"
And nurse said, "That was the very poor
woman your mamma gave the stuff petti-
coat to, for her little child, last Christmas,
and I told her it was a great shame to see it
so ragged, for she ought to have mended
those great slits before it got so bad, and the
Spoor woman said, 'Where could such a poor


creature as I am get needles and thread to
mend the child's clothes ? I would mend them,
to be sure.'"
"And why does she not get them ?" said
"Because, my dear, she has no money to
buy them,"
"But you could give her some money,
nurse, to buy them," said Flora.
"I have no money, my dear," said nurse,
"to give her."
And Flora was just going to say some-
thing more about the poor woman, when she
saw a pedlar standing before the door of the
house (for by this time she had got quite
close to the house), and she ran as fast as
she could, and there was a crowd of people
standing looking at the pedlar's box, and her
sisters and all the maids and nurses peeping
and admiring all the pretty things; and the
pedlar had the greatest number of pretty
ribbons, and purses, and red pocket-books,
and bright scissors, and gold rings, and silver



pencil-cases, and twenty other things which I
cannot stop to tell.
And Flora was in great delight, and she
'ii ot all about the bread and butter, and
the little boy, and everything, and she ran
umping to her mamma, and said:
"Oh! mamma, will you give me some
money to buy something from the ped-
lar ?"
S. And her mamma gave her two halfpennies,
: which make a penny, and told her that she
could spare no more, and Flora ran back to
the pedlar, who was still at the hall door, and
she said:
"Pedlar, I have got a penny, and I want
S.to buy some pretty thing, I want to buy a
gold ring."
The pedlar laughed, and said, Oh, miss, I
could not give such a fine thing as a gold
ring for so little money as that."
-" Well," said Flora, "could you give me a
Sbrooch, or a purse, or a sash, or anything
pretty for my penny ?"



"No, indeed, miss," said the pedlar, "I
could not give you any of those things; the
only thing I could give you would be two
rows of pins, or a sheet of paper, or four
needles, or two skeins of thread."
"Oh," said Flora, "that would be no use
to me-I don't want such things ;" and then
she stopped, for she recollected, just then,
the poor woman that wanted the needles
and thread so much, and she said, "Oh,
pedlar, I will buy some needles and thread
to give to the poor woman) and make haste
and give them to me quick, for fear she
should be gone."
And her mamma, who had come out too,
to look at the pedlar's things, heard Flora
say this, and she kissed her, and said-
"That will be a very good thing to do
with your penny;" and just as Flora was
giving the pedlar the penny, and taking up
the two needles and the skein of thread, he
"Miss, I forgot, if you would rather have



a little pencil to draw with than the needles
and thread, I could give you that for the
penny, but I could not give you both."
So Flora stopped, and did not know well
what to do, for she was longing to have a
pencil, and her mamma said-
"Make haste, Flora, and choose; which
would you rather, draw pictures with your
pencil, or give the needles and thread to the
poor woman that she might mend all the
holes, and slits, and make a comfortable
warm petticoat for the little child ?"
And Flora said, "Mamma, I choose the
needles and thread."
Her mamma was very glad of this, be-
cause it made her happy that Flora was
good-natured to the poor, and when Flora
told her all about the bread and butter, she
kissed her again, and said-
"I am very glad my dear little child re-
members and understands what I have
taught her, that one part of her duty to her
neighbour is to be kind to the poor;" and



then she made Flora say a favourite hymn,
that had this verse in it:-

Not more than others I deserve,
Though God hath given me more,
For I have food while others starve,
And beg from door to door."

"And now," said her mamma, "you have
been a good child all this day, so far, and I
am almost sure when night comes I may write
good under the name of this day, and you
know this day is Thursday, and it is the
first of the three days,"
In the evening of this day Flora's mamma
was coming into the drawing-room where her
little children were, and she heard some
quarrelling, and she stopped, and she saw
little Lucy, who was only three years old,
snapping away a book of pictures from Flora,
and Flora looked cross and angry, and tried
to snap it away again, and they made a great
noise; and their mamma said-
"What is all this about ?"


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