Lazy Lucy's troubles, and other stories


Material Information

Lazy Lucy's troubles, and other stories
Series Title:
Picture-land stories
Alternate Title:
Lucy's troubles
Physical Description:
36 p. : ill. ; 20 cm.
D. Lothrop & Company ( Publisher )
D. Lothrop & Co.
Place of Publication:
Boston (Franklin and Hawley Streets)
Publication Date:
Copyright Date:


Subjects / Keywords:
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Juvenile literature -- 1877   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1877   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1877
Juvenile literature   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston


General Note:
Cover title: Lucy's troubles.
General Note:
Publisher's advertisement on back cover.
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 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 - 001566121
oclc - 22742798
notis - AHH9883
System ID:

This item is only available as the following downloads:

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ITTLE Lucy, lazy Lucy!
Such troubles as she had!
They began every day very
early in the morning. She
was fond of fresh coffee and hot
toast, but she wouldn't jump up when the
bell rang ; so she often lost the nice break-
fast, and had hers cold. She liked to see
mamma's visitors, but she wouldn't keep
herself tidy; so, of course, she could not go
in the parlor. She delighted in stories,
but she wouldn't study; so she got on
with,her reading so slowly that she could


........ ........


take no pleasure with her books, and was
obliged to depend on hearing the stories
read aloud, and as nobody had time to read
all she wished to hear, she had to do with-
out knowing what was inside of many de-
licious books. She loved to play, but she
wouldn't get her little tasks done in time;
so she lost many of her holidays. All
children loved Lucy-she could throw a
ball the straightest, run the fastest, hide the
snuggest, coop th-'moslonysteriously of
any of the girls, and keep the best-natured,
too. Many a morning, some little school-
mate would stop at Lucy's house to help
her get her lessons, so that she could go
play. And many a lonely afternoon Lucy's
papa would be sorry for her, and take her
to walk, and show her the troubles her lazi-
ness made her, 'and would make her all
through life. Lucy would look very sober
and penitent, but I am afraid she is too lazy
to even try to do better.

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LITTLE Sunshine at the window,
By the nodding roses white,
Shading eyes so blue and winsome
From the bright and dazzling light.

Watching papa as he lingers
At the corner of the street;
Ready for the good-by kisses
Sent on breezes soft and fleet.

Soon an ans'ring kiss will flutter
From those dainty fingers white;
And the blue eyes will be sadder
When dear papa's not in sight.


WELL, what is Pansy doing now?
Feeding the biddies, to be sure. But what
has she got in her little basket ?
Oh, it is a nice cluster of grapes. Will
the biddies like them as well as corn?
This big black one seems to like grapes
very well. After she has picked up the
few Pansy has dropped, I think she will
be ready for those in her hand.
Do you suppose Biddy can jump and
get those she is holding so high ? They
will sometimes jump up to get the grapes
which are hanging low on the vines, so I
guess she can get these if Pansy doesn't
throw them on the ground.
If all the biddies come her grapes will
not last long. But she will go to mamma
for more, if she hasn't enough for herself
and them, she enjoys feeding the biddies
so well.

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COME, Tuty, and I'll hear you read,"
said Mary Porter to her little sister.
"Oh, yes, I'll read about the little
mousie which the pussy-cat caught and
then ate up."
Tuty brought her book, and with Mary's
help read the story very well for a little
girl not quite five years old.
Now hear me spell." Tuty always
says this after any one has heard her read.
Spell cat."
C-a-t cat, d-o-g dog. Now give me a
new one, Mary."
You are a girl, so you ought to know
how to spell girl."
Is that a hard word ?"
No, it's most as easy as cat and dog."
What is the first letter, Mary ?"
G comes first."
G-o What comes next ?"

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That ain't right. G-i-r-1 spells girl."
After trying a few times Tuty spelled
it very well. Then Mary said, "Now
spell your name."
Oh, I can't spell Tuty. You-"
Tuty isn't your name. That's only
your nickname. You must spell Lucy."
I want to spell Tuty, too. I like that
the best."
Well, learn Lucy first."
"That ain't all my name. It's Lucy
You can't spell long words yet. Your
first name is enough now. L-u-'c-y, Lucy.
Now try it, Tuty."
L-y Oh, dear, that's too long, I
No, that is easy. L-u-c-y. Now try it
Tuty could soon spell her own name;
but when that was learned she was tired of
lessons, so she ran out to play.

AMY is very fond of flowers. She has
a small garden of her own. Sometimes
her mother gives her house-plants to set in
it. Amy wished very much for one rose-
bush which she thought very beautiful.
Her mother valued it highly; but Amy
promised to take good care of it, and was
delighted when her mother put it in the
centre of her little garden.


HELEN thinks she looks very pretty in
her new dress. She always likes to look
well, and I suppose all little girls do. It
isn't strange, for I like to see them dressed
prettily myself.
But I hope none of them will think so
much of their handsome dresses as to for-
get the poor little girls who never have any
pretty ones, and seldom have a new one
of any kind.
Never treat your playmates unkindly
because they are not dressed well. If they
are only neat and clean, it is enough. I
have seen children poorly clothed more
ready to do a kind act than those richly
If little girls are ready to do cheerfully
what mamma tells them, and are kind and
loving to each other, it is better than all
the new dresses in the world.

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Let us follow Helen into the sitting-
room and see if she is going to thank
mamma for making such a pretty dress.
"Mamma, why didn't you put two ruf-
fles on my dress ? Viola King has three
on hers."
One is enough for sucl, a little girl."
No, 'tisn't. I wanted more than one."
Helen, dear, I don't like to hear such
words or see such a face. If you don't
like your dress I will take it off."
I don't want to take it off. But why
couldn't you make it like Viola's ?"
I make my little girl's dresses the way
I think they look the best. I am sorry if
she is not satisfied."
Helen knew if she found any more fault
she would be obliged to change her dress;
so she said no more, but she still looked
very unpleasant. How much happier she
would have been, and mamma, too, if she
had thanked her instead of finding fault.

I WONDER if any of the little girls who
look at this picture ever saw any peacock's
feathers. I have seen girls wear them in
their hats.
You can see what a long tail this pea-
cock has, but you must see a live one
spread his tail like a fan, if you wish to
know how beautiful the colors are.
The spots which look something like
eyes are at the end of each feather.


BE you the little girl who was most
drowned last week ?" asked Dell Brown
as she stood mending a net by the side of
an old boat.
Blue-eyed Kitty Stanley looked up with
a bright smile as she answered, Yes, I
should have been drowned, but Nep
jumped right into the water and caught
hold of my dress and brought me to the
beach. He was good; wasn't he ?"
"Yes, first rate, I think. Is he your
brother ?"
"Oh, no," answered Kitty, laughing
merrily, he's my dog. His name is Nep-
tune, but we call him Nep."
I should like to see him. I like dogs,
if they are large ones," said Dell.
Oh, he's a great, large fellow! And a
beauty, too. I'll let him come with me,
to-morrow. Shall you be here, then ?"
"Yes. It will take one day more to


mend this net. I like to do it out here,
for then I can see the folks on the beach."
"Do you like to mend that coarse
stuff?" asked Kitty.

Oh, this is good work enough," replied
Dell cheerfully. '" Father said the fish got
out of such big holes, and mother has so
much to do she couldn't get time."
"Don't you have to study any? You
are large enough to go to school."
Yes, I'm big enough," said Dell laugh-
ing, but I can't go all the time, for I have
to help mother."
"What can you do ?"
"I can sweep, and wash dishes, and
take care of Andy."
Who is Andy ? "
He's my little brother. He's real cun-
ning, too. Wouldn't you like to see
him ?"
Yes, but I can't go to your house, for
mamma said I must not go into any of
the houses without leave."
Oh, I'll bring him here to-morrow and
you'll bring your dog. That will be a
good way, then Andy can see Nep."

I must go now, but I'll come down to-
morrow, if I don't ride out with papa."
The next day when Kitty ran down to
the beach with her great Newfoundland
dog, she found Dell there, holding her lit-
tle brother in her arms.
I shouldn't think you could lift him,"
said Kitty, as she took hold of his hand.
Oh, I'm large and strong. He isn't
heavy for me," answered Dell as she put
Andy down by the side of the dog.
Nep almost knocked him over, but
Andy didn't care. He seized the black,
curly hair with both hands and pulled Nep
to his heart's content. Both seemed to en-
joy it.
But, by-and-by, Nep seemed to think
that Andy's face needed washing; so he
used his tongue for a sponge.
This was a little too much, even for
brave Andy. He ran to Dell and hid his
face in her dress.


"PLEASE, mamma, go into the woods
with me," said little Merry one day.
"And what shall we do when we get
there?" asked mamma.
Oh, we'll find flowers -we'll eat ber-
ries we'll we'll do lots of fings, mam-
Then I think I must go."
Perhaps mamma'll make a wreath for
me exclaimed Merry as she danced along
the path.
As quickly as they entered the woods,
she ran here and there, and very soon she
had her apron full of pretty, wild flowers.
Emptying them into mamma's lap, she
begged for a wreath.
"What will you do with the wreath ?"
asked mamma, as Merry stood watching
her twine the flowers together.
Well, I dess I'll put it on mamma's


or papa's hat," answered Merry, earnestly.
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We'll take it home for papa, then;"
and mamma smiled as she looked up into
the rosy face so near.
Oh, yes, mamma, for papa's new hat!
'Twill look most like my meeting' one."

But papa will hardly want to wear his
to meeting, I think."
No, for papas don't wear flowers.
Papa hides his hat under the seat. Flowers
wouldn't show, mamma," said Merry, as
she slowly shook her head.
How wise my little Merry has grown,"
mamma said, laughingly.
Won't papa put his wreath on for few
minutes ?"
Oh, yes, he'll try it on for us to see."
Merry was so anxious to go home now,
she could hardly wait for the wreath to be
finished. And after they reached home
they had to wait for papa.
When will he come ?" she kept asking.
But at last his well-known step was
heard, and Merry ran to meet him, say-
"0 papa, we've made a wreath -and
you must put it on your hat and and
mamma wants to see it."

How much did you do to it?" asked
papa, as he took Merry up and kissed her.
"I I found flowers, papa."
That was a good deal, little girl. But
you don't care to see it on my hat, do you ?
Only mamma."
Oh, yes, papa! I want to see it this
Merry, clapped her hands in delight
when papa placed the hat, with the wreath
around it, on his head. She climbed' into
his lap half a dozen times to fix it, then
jumped down again, so she could see how
it looked at a distance.
Then he hung the hat up with the wreath
still on it, which pleased her very much.
The next morning Merry ran to look at
the wreath before breakfast.
It's all dryin' up, mamma. The flowers
won't stand up. They hang right down."
Never mind, Merry; we can get more
any day."


ELSE is an Italian girl. She came to
America with her father and mother when
she was about six years old. Her parents
did not live long after they came to this
When they died she went to live with
some Italian people who traveled about
all the time. Little Else often wished they
would stay in one place longer, she was
always so tired.
Oh, if she could only rest long enough
once But day after day she must run
about the streets with her violin. If she
had no money at night, the woman she
lived with often treated her unkindly; so
she tried very hard to earn a few cents, if
no more.
Sometimes she went out with a man who
carried a hand-organ. Perhaps you have
seen just such a tired-looking little girl as

P_ 111.I


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poor Else was, walking along the hot, dusty
street; for these are often seen in warm
One day Else was out alone on the

streets of the city where they were stop-
ping. It was nearly night, and she had no
money. She felt so tired she could not
play very well. At last she thought she
would sing one song.
She had a sweet voice, yet now it sound-
ed very sad. Just as she finished a door
near her opened, and a little girl handed
her some money and a few songs.
Else thanked her, then started for the
place she called home. The lamps were
lit now, so she thought she would sit down
a moment and see if she could read the
songs the child had given her.
But poor Else's eyes would not stay
open. She leaned, her head against the
cold stones and was soon fast asleep.
After a while someone shook her roughly
by the shoulder and asked why she was
sleeping there.
I'll go now," was her answer as she
took up her violin and walked slowly away.

NELL must be careful, or she will slip
from the wet rocks into the water.
But she has always lived near the
shore, and feels no fear.
She likes to go out in a boat with her
father, and see him catch fish. Sometimes
she holds a line herself.


"COME, Snowball, come and eat your
breakfast," said Ida, as she put the plate
down before the cat and stroked the soft,
white fur.
Purr, purr, purr !" was all the answer
which pussy made as she slowly rosnd
lazily stretched herself.
"Oh dear, I wish you wasn't so- old,
Snowball! Why can't you run and play
as Ginnie's kitty d< ? I must get me a
little kitty."
Purr, purr! Don't, don't !" the old
cat seemed to answer.
Don't ? Well, you dear old pussy-cat,
you needn't fuss, for I'll take good care of
you as long as you live."
Purr, purr! Good, good! Idathought
the cat meant to say.
Well, Snowball, when I get me a little
cunning kitty, will you treat her well, and
let her eat out of your plate?" asked Ida.

Purr, purr! Don't know, don't
know !" the cat's answer sounded like this

"Don't know? 'I'm ashamed of you,
Snowball. I should think you'd be glad
to have company. If you are so selfish, I
don't pity you much if you are old and
"Purr, purr! Pity me, pity me!" Ida
laughed to see the cat look up in her face,
as if asking for pity.
Pity you ? Yes, I will show just as
much to you, as you show to my little kitty
when I get her." *
This time Snowball mewed, and Ida
thought it sounded like Well!" so she
said, -
We'll call it, settled, then. Now I
must run in and help mother do the dishes,"
and she started and ran toward the house.
Before she reached it, the cat passed
"Well, Snowball, you've waked up at
last, haven't you ? 'Fraid I shall get a kit-
ten, I guess."


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The swallows twitter and sing,
As if wild with fun and delight;
They are ever on the wing,
Darting in and out of our sight.

They chatter so loud and long,
We think they are planning some flight;
They'll give us a parting song,
And start by the bright, morning light.

S, __..__= --"

MAMMA, more dinner! exclaimed little
Jamie as he sat in his high chair at the
Haven't you had enough, Jamie?"
No; me want more. Dinner good !"
Mamma gave him some more bread and
milk in his mug, and it tasted so good
that he laughed as he ate it.
He is always happy and merry.





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paid by Publiskers.

o 'D. Lnt.rop & Co.'s pubication have ob e f a gur-
bi gh char4er of te new magazine. -.Farm n .
ib AwAr indeed, spadcons, beauLiful. ad costa ux s -,aZ a year.t

L ph ial beauty, in illustration, and in literary mtturr it is per-
7owQTaa of Com went.
glAd faces and brighter ueas when Other or mother
tisanw magazine. -- Bosltewr Dauy rne.rer.

1tEM .A4W A. 3 .l
Ss Pq.sed 6Yt 1
0tlH tOP &" CO., Boston.


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