The Country picture book


Material Information

The Country picture book
Physical Description:
24 p. : ;
Filmer, J ( Printer )
McLoughlin Bros., inc ( Publisher )
N. Orr & Co ( Engraver )
James G. Gregory
Place of Publication:
New York
J. Filmer
Publication Date:


Subjects / Keywords:
Juvenile literature -- 1880   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1880
Juvenile literature   ( rbgenr )
non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- New York -- New York


General Note:
Engravings by N. Orr & Co.
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
Rights Management:
All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier:
aleph - 001750740
oclc - 26495401
notis - AJG3657
System ID:

Related Items

Related Items:
Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Title Page
        Page 1
    A snow scene
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Spring time
        Page 4
        Page 5
    A May-day
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
    Harvest scene
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
    The year
        Page 24
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text
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The Baldwin Library
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ERE is a picture of Winter. Se'e how it snows. There is a
stage-coach almost stuck fast in the snow, and there is an
old man plodding along with his donkey and cart. How cold
it must be for the old man, and how cold it must be for the
S travellers on the stage-coach. See how tightly they are wrapped up;
and how they bend their heads to keep the snow out of their faces.
The driver has had to get down and go to the horses' heads to 'urge them
along through the snow. And what are those men and the dog doing in
the foreground? One of the men has got a gun. Is he going to shoot the
stage-coach? What an idea! Of course he isn't. Well, is he going to shoot
the donkey, then? No, to be sure. He is looking for birds to shoot. lHe
is a sportsman. When he has shot a bird the dog will run and fetch it
to him.
Do you like winter? Do you like a real old-fashioned, splendid snow-storm?
How beautiful the fields, the trees, the hills, and every thing look covered
with the white and glittering snow. And what sport there is in having a
good roll and tumble in the snow! What fun in a merry snow-balling! How
fine it is to build an enormous snow-man! and better than all, what exciting
sport there is in riding down hill, on a sled, with the speed of an arrow. There
are plenty of amusements in winter, even if we sometimes are glad to warm
our frosted fingers by the blazing fire.

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Now the snow lies piled in the fields,

And gayly the sleigh-bells jingle;

The icicles hang from the eaves,

And our frosted fingers tingle.

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N the spring the farmer begins to plough his fields. The snow
that lies on them all winter long, sometimes heaped up in great
drifts against the fe ces, melts away in the warm spring suns.
And then begins the busy time with the farmer; for the ground
must be ploughed, and furrowed, the seed must be :carefully selected,
and. his corn," and his oats, and his barley, and his potatoes, must
all be planted. How glad the farmer is when the frost is out of the ground
so that he may begin his ploughing. A farmer likes the sulnlmer-time, be-
cause then his crops are growing, and he can watch his oats and his corn
come up out of the brown earth, and grow so tall,, green, and handsome.
What a ondertil thing it is to plant a little seed in the ground, and then,
by and by, to see a green shoot, so small you can but just see it, come
slowly up through the surface of the ground. And then day by day how
taller and bigger it grows. If it is corn-seed that you are watching, it
will get after a time higher than your head, higher than a man's head, and
on the top a'beautifil tassel, or feather, will grow, and great ears of corn will
,appear on its side, and all.this from a small seed.. How wonderful!
Now let us look at the picture. There are two men and horses in the
fore-part of the picture getting ready to plough.. And there is a man plough-
ing further back. And there is another man still further off: What is he
doing'? He is sowing seed. It must be oats, or barley, or wheat that he
is sowing. He carries his seeds in a great apron, which he holds up with
one hand, and then with the other he takes a handful of seed and scatters
it evenly over the ground. When this is done the seed is covered over
with the earth. Then the rain rains upon it, the sun shines upon it, until
in a short time every little seed 1po)ps up its green head ,uit of the earth.







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" He ploughs the hills and ploughls the dale,-

He ploughs through field and fallow;

Who does not wish the plolughmanuil well

Is but a sorry fellow."






"Oh, the gallant fisher's life,
It is the best of any,-
'Tis full of pleasure, void of strife,
And 'tis beloved by minany." .

HIS is a verse from a fisherman's song. Do you see any fisher-

Smen in the' picture? They are usually called anglers. One
of them looks as* if he were at this very moment catching a
fish. Many people are very fond of angling for fish, and think it.exciting

sport. But other people think it very cruel. I do not believe' either
you or I would like to be served as they serve the fish. There are
other things in the picture besides the anglers. There is a boat loaded with
people and cows. It is a ferry-boat, and is u ted to convey people, cows,
horses, and other things across the river. Do you not think it a beautiful
Would you like to liv ,in that nice, queer-looking house on the bank
of the river? What fine times you could have, roaming about among the
tall trees that we see bac of the house! or sailing in a little boat on the
river! or rambling through the long grass .of the meadows, hunting for
daisies and butter-cups, and other field-flowers 1 It seems to me that to live in
such a house would be wonderfully fine. But then there is always sAiething
pleasant, no matter, where we live, Even in the city there are gfty streets and
many strange sights. But it is no wonder that little boys and girls like the
country better than the city. There are the woods and the meadows to wak
in; and flowers to, find in the fields, and apples to pick in the orchards,
and nuts to gather in the woods. A fine thing it is, no doubt, to live in
the country. But if you do not live in the country you can visit it every

vacation, and tha,, is almost as good.

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"Little streams are light and shadow,

Flowing through the pasture meadow.

Flowing by the green way-side,

Through the forest dim and wide,

" Through the hamlet still and small,

By the cottage, by the hall,

Bearing tribute to the river.

Little streams, I love you ever."

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OW pleasant it is to rise early in the morning and see the
Scows nilked! Do you like milk fresh from the cow? Or

do you like it better when it has stood in the cool milk-
S room until it has become cold ? Any way it is pleasant, I think,
to see the cows milked. How quietly and nicely they stand while
being milked-! They do not kick, nor juimp, nor run, but remain per-

fectly still and let the milkni;id fill up.her pail. How white, and frothy, and
rich the milk looks! If it were n ot *for the sweet, green grass, which the
cows love so, they could give us no milk. Let us go u'p to the cows. They
will not kick us with their feet, nor hook us with their horns. Sometimes
there are bad cows that will do so. But these are ood cows. Sometimes
a bad cow will kick over the mnilkmnaid's pail and scatter the white milk
all over the grass. When a cow l-des that it must have its feet fastened to
a post, so that it cannot do it again. But cows almost always like to be
milked. -t the evening you will hear them lowilg for the milk-maid to
come and milk them.
But let us see what else there is in the picture beside .the cows. There
are two horses. A man is sitting on the back of one then He is talking
to two young women. They have been to milk their cows. A little boy
is with them. What is he carrying? It is .the little stool on which they sit
to milk their cows. There are other boys in the bushes. But what they are
doing I cannot tell. Perhaps they are looking for flowers. I dare say they
Now what else can you see? I can see a church-steeple far off in the
distance, and near by there are some tall, beautiful trees. There is something
else I have not told you of. Can you tell what it is ?


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"The summer time has come again,

With all its light and mirth,

And June.leads on the laughing hours,

To bless the'weary earth."

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HIS is a wagon loaded with hay. It is crossing a brook.
1i, The water in the brook is not deep. The horses have stop-
ped' so that they can take a drink. When they have had

enough, the men will drive them on until they come to the farmer's
big barn. Thenrthey will unload and pile the hay up in the barn.
How do you suppose hay is made? and what is it fo, ? It is for the
cows and the horses to eat in winter-time, when the grass is all dead, and the
fields are covered with snow. Did you never see the farmer make hay ?
Then listen while I tell you how it is done. When the grass in the meadow
is tall and fine, the farmer cuts it down with a scythe. A scythe is a crooked,
queer-shaped knife, as long as you are. When the grass has lain in the sun
a little while, it is turned over so that the other side can lie in the sun too.
It is turned over and over this way two or three times. And when the,
sun has dried the grass then the farmer calls it hay, and says it is made. Then
he rakes it up in great piles. Then the men 'drive the wagon up close to.
the' piles, and with long pitchforks toss the hay up into, the cart.
Hay-making is thought to be great sport. Even little children can help
to rake and turn the hay. Then it is such fine sport for them to roll and
tumble'in it, it is so clean and smells so sweet, and to help the farmer pile
it into the wagon, and to ride on the top of the load to the barn. That is
the best of all. Tlie load is so high it seems like a little mountain. You can-
not even see the horses' heads. You must hold on tight or else the motion
will shake you off. Now I want you to look at the picture and tell me if
any one is riding on the top of'that load. Tell me also every thing else you
can see. Do you see the bridge? Do you see the people working at the
hay in the meadow ?

Who would summer pleasures try,
Let him to the meadows hie,-
Let him smell the new-mown hay,
Let him watch the streatmlets gayv;

See the meads in early morn,
See the farmer tend his corn,-
Hear the milch-cow's evening low:
See the sunset's g olden glow!

. 21


HAT can they be doing here? -Washing sheep! It must
be real fun to see a sheep-washing,' I should think. All'
the sheep on the other side of the brook have been washed.
Those on this side are to have their turn. The men in the brook
are those who wash the sheep. First on:e catches a sheep and ducks
it head and ears in the water, n .rubs the water up and down
through the sheep's wool. Then he lets the sheep go, who, swimming toward
the shore, is caught by the second man, who gives it another ducking.
Then as it swims off it is "caught by the third man and lhas another souse.
Soimetimes a sheep will struggle so hard in the hands of a washer, that the
man slips up, and over they both go flat into the water. What roars of laugh-
ter there are then, to be sure! When the sheep lands on the other side, its
wool all dripping with water, it looks and seems to say, "I wonder what all
this is for !"
Do you not think sheep are pretty creatures? How gentle the little lamIbs
are Lambs, you know, are young sheep. We might call then baby sheep.
The back and sides of sheep are covered with wool. When' the wool is
long enough it is cut off with great scissors. It does not hurt the sheep to
cut off the wool. When the wool is cut off it is spun, then it is woven
into cloth, then of the cloth coats and jackets are made. Is it not queer that
the stuff of which coats are made should once have grown on the backs of
Do you see the people on the bridge watching the men washing the sheep ?
Do you see the farmer's house in the distance? Do you see that dog run,
ning ever so fast? Now count the sheep if you can. There are so many
it will not be so very easy.

"Hear the ewes now bleat and 'bae,"
As the lambkins answer mae.
Sing, my bonny harmless sheep,
That feed upon the hill-sides steep."


ARVEST-TIME'is when the farmer gets in his grain. By grain
I mean wheat, and rye, and oats. When wheat has been ground
in the mill it is called flour. And of flour we make bread.
1 Bread is -made of rye-flour, too, som(letimnes. Oats are for horses
to eat.
I have told you how the farmer planted his seed. When first the
grain comes up out of the ground it looks like grass. I think you could not
tell the difference. But soon it grows up a good deal taller than grass. And
on the end of each spear, or stalk, when it gets quite high, the little seed or
grains begin to appear. When the head of each spear is full of these little
grains; the stalk, which was green before, begins to .turn yellow. Then the
farmer knows it is almost ripe, and will soon be ready to cut. Then the
icekles and scythes are sharpened, and all the firiner's men get ready for the
work. As soon as the grain is completely ripe -they go into the field.. Look
,it the picture and you will see them there. Those queer, crooked knives
they hold are the sickles. When the grain is cut down it is.bounid up into
sheaves. You can see the sheaves in the fore-part of the picture. A man
and woman are sitting down, leaning against them. The woman has a baby
in her arms. When there is a load of sheaves they are piled into the wagon
and taken to the barn. In the winter-time the sheaves are untied, spread
on the baril-floor, and beaten with what are called flails. This makes all
the little grains come out of the stalks. Then.the grains are gathered up and
sent to the mill to be ground into flour. The stalks are then called straw.
There are some children coming along the road, in the picture. One of
thl men is holding up his hand to them. There are many tllings in the

picture that I have not room to describe, and you must ask Mamma or Papa
to explain them to you.


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i Now swiftly ply the reaper band,

With lightsome heart and eager hand,

While sickles gleaming in the sun

Tell us the harvest is begun."



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UTUMN has come, and the apples in the orchard are ripe.
It is time to gather them. Some of the trees are loaded
down with bright red apples. Others are full of yellow

apples. The yellow apples are the pippins. There are a great many
kinds of apples, and of every shade of color. It is great sport, I
think, to go into the orchards and gather the apples when they are
ripe. Everybody turns out. Old people and young people; mep and women
and children. Look at -the picture and count them all, if you can. There
are ladders put up against the trees, so that the limbs can easily be reached.
Those who go up give the branches a good shaking. Down the apples come
with a rush i Why, it fairly rains apples Take/care of your head! Those
big fellows hit hard as they come rattling down from the high branches.
Look how the ground is covered with them! It doesn't take long, I can tell
you, to fill up the Jbaskets. We shall soon have all our baskets full. Then
we will have to carry them to the store-room, and empty them on the clean,
nice floor. And then we must carry the baskets back, and fill them up
again. There are plenty of apples in all that big orchard, and it will take us
more than one day to gather them. But we don't care for that. We think
gathering apples isn't work at all. It is more like play. We must not eat
too many at one time. They will last us all winter long, so we need not
be afraid we shall not have enough. How nice they will be cold winter even-
ings, roasted, and eateff with black walnuts and hickory-nuts. Which do
.you like best-apples, or peaches, or plums ? Perhaps you like all three
so well you don't know which you like best. If you have plenty, don't forget
to give some to those who have not. Take a basket-full to school, and give
some to each of your school-mates.



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The golden apple scents the autumn breeze,

The yellow pippin droops the pendent trees,-

The peach and plum have ripened in the sun,

And now the kindly summer's work is done.

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EE the fat pigs! They have been let out from the pen to
roam in the woods. In the woods they can pick up acorns,
which they are very fond of. Acorns are a kind of nut that

r I gr ows on oak-trees. Pigs like them, but they are not good for us.
Some of the pigs have come 'down to the little pond for aidrink. Do
you see those away back in the woods?
Do you like to roam in the woods? Now it is Autumn, and the nuts are
ripe. Let us each get a basket, and go into the d ad see if we can find
any.. There are. chestnuts, and walnuts, and butternuts, and hickory-nuts, and
hazel-nuts.. Which kind do you like best? They all grow on tall trees ex-
cept the hazel-nuts.. Those grow on low bushes. You, can easily reach them
with your hand. But if we go into the woods we cannot get any hazel-nuts
this time.
We must get some long poles to knock the nuts off the branches with.
Or, perhaps, Frank or Harry will climb up the trees and shake the .limbs.
Here is a great tall walnut-tree. I wonder if Frank can climb it .To be
sure he can. See how fast he goes up. Now he is on one of the branches.
He gives it a hard shake. Down come the nuts rattling on the ground. What
lots of them to be surely. Now Frank gives the branch another shake, and
down they come. rattling on our heads. I guess we make haste to get out
of the way! Hear how Frank laughs to see us run. Now we have got
enough walnuts. Here is a chestnut-tree. 'e frost has turned all the leaves
to a bright yellow. How beautiful they look! The burrs have been split open
by the frost, and the ground is covered with the dark-brown nuts. Why, we
shall get just as many as we can carry! What fun! Hurrah, boys! Pick them
up as fast as you can. But now it is almost dark. It is time to go home.

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The hay, and wheat, and corn are in the barn;

The harvest treasure's safely stored from harm;

Now through the Autumn woods we'll widely roam,

And walnuts gather for our winter home.


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T rains hard and the wind blows. The clouds look dark and heavy.
The poor cows are trying to get under cover. Even the ducks
don't appear to like the rain much. See the poor woman by

the -tree. There is a little girl by ier side. The woman is holding
her cloak, so that the little girl will not -get wet. The woman has been
to .the woods to pick up sticks. She is carrying a bundle of them
on her l'ead. It seems a queer place to carry bundles. But some people like
to carry them that way best. Do you see the man with a gun and his dog?
The man is bending his head to keep the rain and wind out of his face.
It is so rainy and dreary out-of-doors, I, for one, am glad to be in the
house. Are not you? As we cannot go out in the rain we must see what
we can do in the house. There is a swing in the barn. If we could only
get there we might have fine sport. It is- only a little way. If- we carry
umbrellas, put on thick shoes, and run ever so fast, we shall not get wet.
Let us try it. Hurrah! Here we are, all safe, and not in the least wet! Now
for the swing. It is little Lucy's turn first. She is so little we must not
swing her high. The big children can swing as higbh as they please. All
the girls first, and then the boys. Each one must swing twenty times, and
then it will be the next one's turn. Now it is Mfary's turn. She swings quite
high; but Frank says that when his turn comes, he will touch the beam over
the door with his feet.. I wonder if he can. Let us wait and see. He
must hold on tight, though, for if he. should fall it would hurt him terribly.
Now he is going to try. See him begin, slowly at first, then higher and
higher. Those who swing him must try their best. There! That time he
almost did it. Once more. Not quite yet. Try again. Now he does it!
And now he does it again. That is good. But it is time to go in.
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"The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

The day is dark and dreary."



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SOW it is winter again! We began with winter and are back
-, where we started. But that was January and this is December.

^. ^ i It is winter, but there is no snow on the ground yet. We
may look for some, though, before Christlmas. It is fine to have a
good deep snow oin the ground for the. Christnas holidays. Bright,
sparkling snow and jingling sleigh-bells make Merry Christras all
the merrier and Happy New Year all the happier. We will watch the clouds
every day, and when the first white, feathery flakes of snow begin to fall,
how we'll shout with delight! How we will watch it making the fields, the
trees, the roofs so beautifully white!
Let us see what we have here in the picture. It is in the forest, and
the woodmen are getting wood for the winter fires. There is a wagon with
great logs in it, ready to be drawn away to the wood-pile. And there are
other great logs, with children playing on them, ready to be carted away;
and there is a woodman beginning to cut down another tree. Well, I should
think these men meant to have wood enough! See the woodman cutting
the tree. What hard blows he gives! What large chips fly out at every blow!
Pretty soon the tree will begin to totter, and then it will come tumbling
to the ground with a terrible crash. There are a man and a woman in the
way, but they will make haste to get at a safe distance before the tree falls.
It will not fall where the little children are. It will fall the way it leans.
Can you tell which way that is?
I have told you about the snow-storm, about the spring-time, about the
cows, the hay-making, the sheep-washing, the harvest-time,-about the apple-
gathering, the nuts, and other things; now, after you have read a few little
verses over the leaf, I must say to one and all, GooD-HY !

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"Though summer joys are o'er,

And flowers bloom no more,

Full many charms in thee,

0 Winter! still I see."


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In JANUARY,. fleecy snows begin the year,
And all the frosty month is wrapped in winter drear.

The FEBRUARY days are cold, but longer grow,
And still the fields .and roads are covered deep in snow.

MARCH winds come roaring o'er the hills with sleet and rain,
But ice and snow are swiftly melting from the plain.*

The sun doth brightly shine through changeful APRIL showers,
And we may gladly look to see the early flowers.

In MAY, the blossoms hang upon the orchard trees,
And first we feel the soft and pleasant summer breeze,

The fragrant roses bloom in fair and gentle JUNE,
And all the groves are glad with joyous birds in tune,

JULY is rich with flowers rare, in garden gay,
And sweet with purest scents from fields of new-mown hay.

In AUGUST grand our happy school vacations come-
In river, wood, and field we have such splendid fun.

SEPTEMBER fruits hang thickly on the bending bough,
And plum and peach and apple ripen for us now.

The grapes and yellow corn the bright OCTOBER crown,
And gayest Autumn tints of purple, red, and brown.

Sometimes the gloom of dark and sad NOVEMBER days,
Will softly brighten in the Indian summer haze.

DECEMBER, last, now brings us rarest Christmas cheer,-
So let us Heaven thank for all the fruitful YEAR,


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