Front Cover
 Title Page
 Impatient grace
 The old, old story
 Our little man
 May blossoms
 Flo's story
 Helen's garden
 Prince and Carlo
 Three little mice
 The bird's nest
 Rob's sermon
 The pic-nic
 A talk with uncle John
 Which was the noblest?
 Poor little Joe
 A robin story
 Jim's first letter
 Four little peas
 The governess
 A true cat-as-tro-phe
 Homesick Nell
 The proud rose
 Into mischief
 Daisy at grandma's
 The owls and the mouse
 Blind Amy
 In the woods
 Back Cover

Title: The gem of all picture books
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00049544/00001
 Material Information
Title: The gem of all picture books
Physical Description: 72 p. : ill. ; 33 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Madge
American News Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: American News Co.
Place of Publication: New York (39 and 41 Chambers St.)
Publication Date: 1879
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Juvenile literature -- 1879   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1879
Genre: Juvenile literature   ( rbgenr )
fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: by Cousin Madge.
General Note: Green cloth cover, stamped in gold; col. ill. on cover.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00049544
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 - 001594993
oclc - 12980695
notis - AHL9079

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Title Page
        Page i
        Page ii
    Impatient grace
        Page 1
    The old, old story
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
    Our little man
        Page 9
    May blossoms
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
    Flo's story
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
    Helen's garden
        Page 17
    Prince and Carlo
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
    Three little mice
        Page 21
    The bird's nest
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
    Rob's sermon
        Page 25
    The pic-nic
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
    A talk with uncle John
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
    Which was the noblest?
        Page 33
    Poor little Joe
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
    A robin story
        Page 37
    Jim's first letter
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
    Four little peas
        Page 41
    The governess
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
    A true cat-as-tro-phe
        Page 45
    Homesick Nell
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
    The proud rose
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
    Into mischief
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
    Daisy at grandma's
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
    The owls and the mouse
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
    Blind Amy
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
    In the woods
        Page 67
        Page 68
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text

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Did you ever see such a face on any lit-
tle girl before? I am sure it would scare
the cat.
She had a letter from her brother Fred
to-day, and he said in it:
"Gracie, do learn to write, for I want you
*. to tell me lots of things."
Fred is away at school, and Grace bobs
her head and says to herself, "Yes, I will
learn to write this very day. I know how
to spell words, and will only have to learn
how to make letters."
A, B, C. How easy they were, and a smile
came with each one as she thought how
Fred would like his letter.
Next came E, F, G, but somehow F would
not look like the copy, and she had to make
it so many times, her face began to get a lit-
tle long.
The smiles quickly returned when mam-
ma said she would help her little pet.


"Mamma, tell me the story," says Charlie,
as he lays his curly head in her lap, all tired
out with play.
She knows what he means by THE story,
for often her little boy stops in his play to
look at the pictures on the tiles, which tell
of the dear Jesus; how He came from His
bright home in the sky and was born a
little babe, so poor that He had no cradle,
but was laid in a manger, though He was
the King of Heaven.
"Why did He not have a rich home and
a nice bed if He was such a king?" asks
"He was the friend of the poor, dear, and
came to bless and save them as well as the
rich, and the poor were not afraid to come
to Him, their best friend.
"I told you how loving He was to every
one who was sad or sick, and how He never
turned away those who came to Him.

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"He made poor blind men see, and the
lame ones who came to Him on crutches,
like the man you see there, went away
walking and leaping for joy.
"Once, when little children were brought
to Him, some tried to keep them away, but
Jesus said, 'Suffer the little children to come
unto Me,' and He took them in His arms
and blessed them and told how He loved" '
"Oh, how good that was," says Charlie.
But Mamma's voice is sad as she points
him to the picture of Jesus made to bear
that heavy cross when He was on His way
to the place where He was to be nailed upon
it. Charlie's eyes, too, are full of tears as he
sees Him there on this same cross, with the
cruel nails in His hands and feet, and the
crown of sharp thorns upon His head, which
He bows in pain and then dies-"dies for
us, Charlie."
Charlie's voice is glad now as he says,
"But, Mamma, He did not stay dead; I

heard all about Easter, how He came out of
the grave on the third day and saw many
of His dear friends who loved Him, and
who had been very sad, but were now so
glad that He was alive again."
"Do you know who it was that first saw
Him after He came out of the grave,
"Yes, two of His friends, both named
Mary. They had come to His grave to show
their love and grief, but they found it open,
and saw two bright angels all in white, who
told them, He is not dead but risen."
"He stayed among them forty days and
then He took some of those who loved Him
the very best up on a hill, and there they
saw Him go up into the sky; but they did
not feel bad now, for they knew He had
gone back to His bright home, where He
is now, and where we too may go to live
with Him when we die, if we love and
serve Him here, as His good book teaches
us to do."

This is Minna. She is a little German
girl, and where she lives in that far off
country, they do not dress little girls in
white dresses with gay sashes and kid
boots; all she has to wear is a little slip
such as you see, and those worsted boots
that her mamma knits for her.
When Minna wakes up in the morning
it does not take more than five minutes to
dress her, and just as soon as she eats her
bowl of bread and milk off she runs, and
that is the last you see of Minna in the
house till she wants her dinner.
What do you think she has to play with?
Why, one old wooden doll that you would
not look at and that great big dog you see
in the picture. Her mamma knows she is
safe, for old Jack will take good care of
her, and Minna loves him most as much as
you love your little sister.
One day Minna saw some flowers which



grew way up on a bank by the water.
They looked so pretty, Minna thought she
must have them, but Jack knew better, and
pulled at her dress to stop her. Minna did
not mind him but tried to climb up to them,
till, by and by, her foot slipped, and she
would have fallen into the water had not
Jack held her tight. You do not think it
strange that she loves him and that mamma
trusts him, do you?
She has played so hard with Jack this
morning, she is all tired out, and when
mamma comes to call her to dinner she
finds Minna fast asleep and Jack, too. The
hens have stolen all her berries, so what do
you think she will say when she wakes up?
Maybe she will think Jack was the thief,
and then she will make him stand in the
corner a long time to punish him.
But while poor doggy takes the blame,
the chicks will go clucking off to tell what
a good feast they have had, without any
shame at all.


Darling little brother Willie,
Playing out there in the yard,
With cheeks flushed, and curls in tangle,
Working there so very hard.
Running up and down the gravel,
Playing presses man" with his cart,
How the little feet do travel,
Bless his happy little heart!
Now he folds his hands "like papa,"
Struts around with sober face;
While we laugh to see the baby
Imitate his father's grace.
"When I dit a man," says Willie,
"I am doin' to be so tall,
Have my pottets full of money,
Never have to work at all."
How I wonder what he will be,
When our little man has grown;
How the tender seed will ripen,
That our loving hands have sown.


When May Morton was a baby, her mam-
ma used to call her "May Blossom," because
she was born in May, and her papa liked
it so much he named her May.
She always loved the May blossoms, and
when she grew up she chose them for her
favorite flowers.
When she was seven years old, her mam-
ma gave her a birth-day party, and in the
morning they went to the woods to gather
her pet flowers. May soon spied a cluster
of the pink and white beauties, tucked away
almost under the roots of an old tree; how
sweet they were, with their waxen buds and
glossy green leaves.
"Oh, mamma," said May, "Fannie Grey
said the girls were going to choose me for
their queen, because it was my birth-day;
but I told her I did not want to be queen.
[ wish they would choose Gracie Brown, for
she is lame, and cannot run about in the


woods as we can, and she loves flowers so,
too. I think it would make her real happy,
don't you, mamma?"
What a lot of flowers they found! Her
mamma wove a pretty crown of the sweet
May blossoms for the queen, and little May
just danced for joy.
Gracie Brown's brother, Will, harnessed
his dog Carlo to his little wagon, put his sis-
ter in, and they drove in great state to Mrs.
Morton's door; then Will took her up very
gently, and carried her into the house.
Gracie's great blue eyes opened wide with
delight when she saw the lovely flowers; but
when the little girls chose her to be queen
of the May, her eyes filled with great dew
drops, which looked very like tears.
What a merry time they had. They play-
ed and danced, and then had such a nice
supper, and then went home so very happy.
After they were all gone, May bent over
her darling flowers. "Oh, didn't we have a
nice time!" she said.


This is the way my little girl tells me a
First, she gets up in my lap, and after she
turns and twists for about five minutes, to
"get fixed," she begins:
"Well, once upon a time there was a--
which do you want, mamma, a little girl
or boy?"
"I guess I'll have a little girl, to-day."
"Well," begins Flo again, "once upon a
time there was a little girl, and her name
was--what name shall we have, mamma?"
"Oh, call her Daisy," I answer.
"Well, once upon a time there was a little
girl, and her name was Daisy. One day she
went--where do you think she had better
go, mamma?"
"Why, send her to the woods or to the
moon. You little cheat, run and get some
one else to tell you a story."
"Why, mamma, I was telling you one."


"I am so tired," sighed Robbie Gray, as
he tossed to and fro upon the bed; "oh! I am
so tired."
"Poor little fellow," said his Aunt Kate, as
she took him up and seated him on her lap.
He has been very sick, and they thought
he would die, but the doctor says he will
get well now, and they are all so glad.
Robbie's mamma is dead, and his papa has
gone away in a ship, and will be gone for a
whole year; but before he went, he brought
his little boy to live with his Aunt Kate and
his three little cousins.
There he is with Cousin Phil's wooden
horse in one hand, and an orange in the
other. Little Nellie has brought the book
which Uncle John gave her last Christmas,
and is showing him the pictures; but Rob-
bie is too sick to care for them now.
Just then, in rushes Phil, bright and rosy,
climbs up on the bed, and cries "Oh, Rob-

== 41A



bie! you must make haste and get well as
fast as you can; you know that big chestnut
tree which stands on the side of the hill?
well, it hangs just as full of chestnuts as it
can stick, and when the frost comes, and
that will be pretty soon, I guess, the burrs
will open, and won't we have fun!
"Jim Brown and Ned Burns are going up
into the tree; they will knock the chestnuts
down, and we little boys are to pick them
Little Robbie's pale face lights up with
joy, as he thinks of the good times to come.
"Why, yes, Cousin Phil," says he, "that
will be jolly. I must make haste and get
well again, so I can have a real good time,
but I am very tired now."
Then Aunt Kate peels a great juicy or-
ange for him, and after he has eaten it she
puts him in bed, tucks him in, and he falls
fast asleep, and dreams that he is out oni the
hill-side with the boys, and has picked a big
basketful of chestnuts all himself.


Little Helen loved flowers so much, that
her papa gave her a garden for her very
own, full of plants, with lovely bright flow-
ers; she had a little hoe and rake, too.
One day, Helen came into the house, all
out of breath, and with a very red face.
"Oh, mamma!" said she, "I is so tired;
oh, I is awful tired!"
"What has my little girl been doing?"
-;aid mamma, as she wiped her warm face.
"Why, I have been working in my gar-
den," said Helen; "it is so dirty."
"Why, dear, I thought your garden look-
ed very sweet and pretty."
"Well, I don't want any dirt in my gar-
den, mamma; but there is such a lot, I dug,
and dug, and dug."
Little Helen thought she would have her
garden all clean, but she will learn, that
though dirt is not nice on her hands and
face, it is a very good thing on plants.


"Ba-wa!" says little pet Carlo.
"Bow-wow!" says Prince, who has just
walked in.
"Where did you come from?" says Carlo,
and holds up his paw in surprise at such a
big dog, and strains his neck to see the whole
of him at once.
"Came from the country; you don't think
I could live here, do you? What do you
do all day? Stand there with that chain
around your neck?"
"No, I don't! I only wear this when Miss
Nell, my mistress, goes out; she does not
want me to go down stairs where the doors
are open, for fear some one will steal me, I
am such a rare dog, she says."
"Rare! I should think so," growls Prince,
who turns up his nose, and starts to go away.
"I guess you would like to have such care
as I have," snarls Carlo, who does not like
to be snubbed in this way; "Miss Nell gives

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me all my food her own self, and bathes me
every day; she shows me to all her friends,
and takes me out with her to walk."
"WAhy don't you run away?" growls
"I don't want to," snaps Carlo, "and could
not if I did, for she holds me by a ribbon
put through my collar."
"You must have a good time," sneered
"What do you do where you live?" asks
"Do! I don't live in the house, or walk at
the end of a string."
"Oh, my! are you not afraid you will get
lost, some day ?"
"No, indeed! my master sends me for the
cows, and away I run and bark till I get
every one of them. Then when he rides his
black pony way off, I go too and make calls
on all the dogs by the way. I take care of
the house, too, nights; no one dare come
to steal where I am."


Three little mice, all dressed up in gray,
Arm in arm, started out for a walk.
They had dined on cheese, and felt very gay,
But ah! did you know that mice can talk?
Well then they can; so listen what one said,
Looking around, as if so afraid:
'Oh, why do cats hate us, and wish us dead?
To be killed by them we were not made.'
'Cats may be all very well in their place,
But where that is, I cannot find out.
If to spring on us, without word or grace,
And gobble us down--I have my doubt,'
'Oh, I wish some one did own a big trap,
And set it for cats, instead of mice;
To catch their sly paws, with its awful snap.'
'Ha! ha!' they all laughed, how very nice!'
While still in the woods, one better not crow,
As these little mice found out to their cost;
For with a big spring Tom quickly did show
The sermon they preached was on him lost.


Will and Nan had gone to the woods to
pick up sticks for mamma's fire.
"Looks like a nest up in that tree," says
Will; and off go his cap and shoes, and up
he goes like a cat, and most as fast, and sure
enough there is a nest with-three little
eggs? No! but three little birds with such
wide open mouths, so big, they look as if
they could most eat themselves.
"What oo dot, budder Will? don't fall,"
calls little Nan, who looks up at him as she
stands at the foot of the tree.
"Guess I won't," says Will, as he climbs
down with his prize and stands by her.
"Oh, my! Will they bite?" says Nan, as
she draws back from the open mouths.
"Why, Nan, they are birds! You are not
afraid of birds!"
"I don't see any birdies," says Nan; "noss-
ing but moufs; birdies have pretty soft
feathers, and I don't see them."

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"Well, Nan, these birds will have feath-
ers by and by when they get time to grow;
birds don't ever have them when they are
so very young."
"What makes they open their moufs so,
budder Will?"
"'Cause they are hungry, and thought it
was their mother, so they keep their mouths
open for me to drop in a worm."
Just then two ladies came along, and saw
Will and Nan with the nest, and asked them
where they found it. Will told them, and
said he was going to take it home and feed
the little birds till they were old enough to
sing, then he would sell them for some
"Poor little birds!" said the lady; "what
will their mamma do when she comes home
and finds her babies all gone?"
Will hung his head and said he had not
thought of that.
He went up the tree just as quick as he
could, and put the nest back in its place.


Rob's papa is a minister. Rob, who is not
four years old, says he is going to be one,
too, and often preaches now.
He stands on a chair, puts on a grave face,
talks very loud, and makes his arms go like
This is his last sermon:
"Childen, does you know you has got a
tole?" soul he means.
"Yes, you has two toles, one on your foot,"
and up goes his foot to show the tolee."
"But that is not the one I mean; that tole
is in you, and makes you fink good fings and
bad fings. You must take care of dat tole.
"You must not say bad words-never,"
and down comes his little fat hand.
"You must never tell lies, it is bad.
"You must not fight wif each other.
"Childen, you must mind what your
papa and mamma says--every time.
"There, my preach is done."


Ned had never been to a pic-nic in all his
life, and he is ten years old.
He is a jolly little fellow, and though he
is poor and does not wear very nice clothes,
he has a good friend in Frank Crane.
Frank's papa is rich, and gives him every-
thing he wants; he has fine clothes, lives in
a grand house, and has a real live pony, all
his own; but he has what is better than all
these, a good, kind heart; and he now has
asked Ned to his pic-nic.
Ned was most wild with joy, and ran
home fast as he could, threw his cap in the
air, and shouted, "Hurrah! hurrah!" till
you would think he was crazy.
His mamma thought so when he came in
so eager to tell her the news; he could not
eat the supper she had most ready for him.
I wish you could have seen him the next
day at the pic-nic with his new shoes, which
he had earned; he looked as neat as a pin,


. . . .


and you may be sure that he did have a
good time.
He chose the prettiest girl in the ring
when they played "Oats-peas-beans." Her
name was Lily, and she was as fair as her
name. Ned thought her a little angel, with
wings hid away somewhere, and she did
look like one when Ned sent her flying so
high in the swing, with her white dress and
fair curls all in a flutter.
But the dinner! how nice it was, and what
fun to get it; how Ned did fly around to help,
and how jolly it was to sit on the grass with
all the nice things spread out on the cloth;
such dainty biscuits, plum cake, ice cream,
and fruit, Ned never ate in his life.
What a merry time they had; I think they
would be there yet if Frank's papa had not
come with a big wagon to take them home.
The wagon was filled with. straw, and they
all rode home together.
Ned's mamma was very much pleased to
hear that he had such a good time.


"Whoa! whoa Jack! Stop, I tell you!"
says Charlie, as he prances up to the side of
his mamma, and stands still for the first
time in a whole hour.
Jack is the name of his horse, and Charlie
says he is the fastest horse in the world.
Charlie went to the circus one day, and
saw oh, so many horses-white, black, and
some red with white spots all over them.
When Charlie first saw them, as the men
rode into the ring, how he did clap his hands.
But when he saw four little ponies, only
as big as his dog Prince, with a monkey on
the back of each, he just jumped up and
down; they did look so funny in their red
coats and gay caps, and kept bobbing their
heads, and winking their eyes in such a
droll way.
Charlie plays circus all the time, and tries
to make Jack walk on his hind legs and
dance, like the black horse in the circus did.


Uncle John has come for a visit. Lou and
Archie are as happy as two boys can be, for
no one is as wise as Uncle John, who has
been everywhere, and tells such nice, "true"
stories; he knows what boys like, too, they
think, as they look over their new books.
While papa takes a nap, they have him all
to themselves. Archie brings his new book
in a hurry, to have him tell about the ani-
mals in the picture, that have little trees
stuck on their heads. "Do they grow there,
Uncle John?"
"Why, Archie! those are deer," says grave,
wise Lou, who is just two years older, "and
those are horns, to be sure."
"Yes, Archie, those are horns, or antlers
they are called. It takes some time for
them to get as big as those in the picture;
at first there is only one little point; this
drops off and a bigger one grows; and the
next one is bigger still, with more branches.

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I think they must be quite proud of such
big ones as you see there, so strong and able
to take good care of the mother deer and
the little ones, such as you see in the front
of the picture. How mild and gentle they
look. They have no horns.
"The male deer is called a stag. See those
two great fellows there; they seem to be
calling to each other. How the mother deer
and the young ones prick up their ears to
know what it is all about."
Do they ever fight with those big horns,"
asks Archie.
"Yes, when they are cornered, but they
trust more to their swift legs. It is great
sport to hunt them. Sometimes it is done
with dogs that start the deer, and chase him
to the water, where the men are ready with
their guns to shoot them.
"They love the woods and hills, and take
long leaps from rock to rock, and when they
come to a lake or river, spring in and swim
to the other side."


Frank thought he was a pretty good boy,
and would not have liked it if you had told
him he was not as noble as his dog Bruin.
But Bruin taught him a good lesson.
Frank was coming from school, when he
saw some boys teasing a poor little fellow
by tossing his cap about, and throwing it in
the dirt; when he cried they would laugh.
Frank stopped to look at them and laugh-
ed too, and once, when the cap came near
him, he kicked it back into the dirt.
The next day, as he was walking with
Bruin, they saw some boys pelting a poor,
mean-looking little dog with stones.
What do you think Bruin did? The great
big fellow went at those boys in a way that
made them run and cry worse than the poor
dog had done. Then he went to the dog
and licked him, and looked down at him
with his kind eyes, and wagged his tail, as
if to say, "What else can I do for you?"


Poor little Joe! how pale he looks. It
most makes me cry to see him, for he did
not use to be so sad; he could run once, and
jump and play like the boys and girls you
see in the picture, but now he has to sit still
in his chair and look at them when they
have such a nice time.
Last summer, a little girl, whose name
was Lu, came to make a visit at his home.
She was a sweet little girl, with blue eyes
and brown curls; she had never been in the
country till then, and Joe tried to show her
everything; so he took her to the barn, and
let her see the little chicks and ducks.
Lu thought it was such fun-"What does
that hen say chuck! chuck! for?" says she.
"Oh, that is the way hens talk; it means,
come chick, quick, I have a worm for you."
Then Joe took her to the orchard to see a
bird's nest in the top of a tree, that a boy
said had five little blue eggs in it.





"Oh, do let me see them," said Lu.
Joe had never climbed so high a tree, but
Lu's bright eyes were looking right at him,
and he did not want to let her see that he
could not do anything she asked him; so he
began to climb, and tried not to feel afraid.
He felt very brave till he got most to the
nest, when out flew the mother bird right
into his face, which made him start back and
let go of the tree, when down he fell, close
to where Lu stood.
Oh! how she screamed; for there lay Joe
so still, she thought he was dead.
Joe's papa heard her, and ran and took
Joe in his arms to the house.
What a sad time he did have; he had a
bad fever and had to lie in bed ever so
many weeks; they thought at one time he
would never get well again; the doctor
said his back was hurt, and he would not
be able to run and jump or play again for
a long time; so now you see why he looks
so sad, poor Joe!


Bessie was playing under the trees, when
she saw a little bird in the grass.
"Where did you come from?" said she.
But robbie did not tell her, that while his
mother was away, he tried to fly, but fell
right down to the ground.
Bessie took him to her mamma, who made
a nice nest for him in her work basket.
The next morning, when all the birdies
woke up, and sang their songs in the trees,
robbie did not seem to hear or care for them
at first; but by and by there came a note
that made him raise his head, and answer,
"Peep, peep," and his wings go up and
down as if he wanted to fly.
It was his own mother's voice he had
heard, and knew it from all the rest, and
when he was put out on the ground, and
said "Peep, peep," again, I wish you could
have seen how quick that glad mother knew
her baby's voice and flew to her darling.


Hullo, Jim! Here is a letter for you,"
says the postmaster, as jolly Jim, the vil-
lage errand-boy, comes whistling by.
"All right!" says Jim, "who to?"
"To YOU, I say."
"Well, who for?"
"MR. JAMES BLAKE," reads the post-
Where does HE live ? asks Jim.
"Guess YOU can tell best," he says, with
such a funny look, it makes Jim think.
Good land! you don't mean ME, now!"
says Jim, who never had any one call him
anything but Jim. "Is that letter writ
to me ? "
"I think it is, MR. BLAKE."
Jim gives a whistle, down goes his basket,
and down he sits, with his face all in a grin,
squeezing his letter, and trying to peek into
it, as if he would get the news out of it in
that way.

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Rose Day has just come with a letter for
her sister May, which she wrote all herself.
Rose has come to live with her aunt, but is
very lonely without May, and she writes to
her every week; she spies Jim's funny face,
and says: "Have you got a letter?"
"'Pears so," says Jim.
"Why don't you read it, then?"
"Don't know how," answers Jim. "Sue,
my sister, can write first rate. I guess she
writ this; she lives at the Springs."
"Shall I read it for you?" offers Rose.
"Yes, please." So while May's aunt talks
with her friend, we will hear Jim's letter.
"Dear Jim.-It is real nice here. Boys
earn lots of money. They hold horses and
everything. I want you to come here, too.
Jane says the railroad costs two dollars.
I tried to have her buy my new hat, so I
could send you money, to pay for you to
come. Can't you earn some and come quick?
I send you love. Your dear sister,

Four little peas in a pod; let us listen
to what they say.
"Dear me," says one, "do you believe
we have got to stay here forever?"
"I hope not," answers Number Two;
"it's VERY close."
"So little room," frets Number Three;
"let's all kick, and see if we can't get out."
"Well, I am going to wait and see what
will happen," says patient Number Four.
Just then something did happen; a big
hand came and smashed their little house,
killed Number One outright, hurt Number
Two so that it was thrown into the gutter,
where it died a very sad death in the mud.
Number Three was popped into a kettle
of hot water, scalded to death and then eaten.
But patient little Four the wind took up
in its strong arms and carried to a soft bed
of moss, where after a short nap it spread
out again into a lovely blossom.


Three little folks were in a sad state the
other day, with the news that they were go-
ing to have a governess.
As soon as they heard it they ran to big
brother Joe to ask what a governess really
was, and what she would do.
"Will she make us sit up awful straight
and never let us laugh or have any fun,"
said Kate.
"And will we have to say 'Yes, ma'am,'
and 'No, na'am,' and 'Please, just a little,'
when we want a great deal?" said Madge.
"I guess she won't make me do none of
those things," says little Tom, as he struts
around, with his hands in his pockets. "I
don't think boys ought to mind a governess,
do you, Joe?"
"Oh, yes," said Joe, "you'll have to. They
are awful. Don't you see, that's what the
name means--to govern."
"Oh, dear," sighs Kate, with the tears in





her eyes, "How do you think she will
Joe, who loves to tease, drew down his
face, as if he was going to cry too, and said,
"Well, she will be about sixty years old,
with a sharp nose, and little eyes that squint,
so you can't tell when she looks at you, and
hard hands, the better to slap with, you
By this time Tom began to whimper, and
Madge said, "I hate her; I won't mind her."
Well, she came the very next day, and
there she sits with the little rebels all around
her. Tom forgot about "boys not minding"
when he heard her loving voice, and Kate
thinks, as she looks into her sweet face, that
if her nose is sharp, and her eyes squint, she
hopes hers will grow so too, and Madge has
not once thought how much she is going to
"hate" her.
As she tells them how grand and noble a
thing it is to learn, they think nothing can
be half as nice as study.


We had a little pussy cat,
Whose fur was white as milk,
And she was very sleek and fat;
We called her Flossy Silk.
She used to play at hide and seek,
With Tom, and Nell, and May,
And looked so pretty, lithe, and meek,
When running in the hay.
But oh, that I should have to tell,
A tale so sad to hear,
Of all the trouble that befell
Our Flossy Silk so dear.
One day, when she was on the stair,
And jumping down rushed Nell,
Her foot on pussy's back came square,
And dead, poor Flossy fell.
We mourned and wept o'er pussy's fate,
And Tom he dug her grave;
He made it near the garden gate,
Where lilacs o'er it wave.

You would not call this a LITTLE girl in the
picture, but if she is not very little, she wants
to sit in her mamma's lap this very minute,
and have her put her arms around her just
as you do when you feel bad, it is such a
good place to cry.
Nell has been crying all by herself, big
girl that she is, crying because she cannot
see her mamma, too.
This is the way it is. Nell's papa and
mamma want her to be'very wise and know
a great deal, but when she tried to learn her
lessons, her brother and sisters were all the
time wanting her to do something for them.
Rose would bring her doll to sister Nell to
have her cut out a new dress for it, and Ruth
would put her arm around her neck and
"Pease, dear Nell, read me a story, do;"
and Jack would come rushing in with, "0,
Nell! please do mend my kite for me, QUICK."


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Nell was so good, and loved them all so
much, she could not say "No," and did
everything they asked her; but it did not
help her to learn her lessons, I can tell
you. So papa and mamma talked it all
over, and said they must send Nell off to
school, that she might study better.
But what a sad day it was when dear
sister Nell left them; how lonesome it was
for Jack, Rose, and Ruth, but not half as
sad as for poor Nell; and what hard work
it is to study now, so much harder than
when she had them all about. her.
Now she is wishing for them all the
time, and the tears fall on her book so
that she cannot see the words at all.
When she gets a letter from home, she
takes it out in the garden to read, all
alone, so no one can see her cry.
We hope she will not long feel so bad.
And you, little boys and girls, who have
good kind sisters to love and help you, try
and not tease them too much.


A rose bush was taken from a garden and
planted in a field.
At first it did not mind the change, for it
was about to take its winter nap, and felt
too dull to care for anything.
But when it woke up in the spring, and
found where it was, it did nothing but fret
from morning till night.
"WNhat ails you?" said a dear little violet,
as she raised her blue eyes from the grass.
"What ails me! Do you think I can be
happy here in a common field with such low
company? I belong to a royal family, and
grew in a garden, close by a fair white lily;"
and the rose bush shook her tiny green buds
in scorn at the thought that they should ever
open their bright leaves in such a lowly spot.
"You should be conttented," said the violet.
But warm sunshine, health, beauty, and
grace were of no worth to the proud rose
if she could not be with the rich and grand.


What a big name to spell and pronounce!
Every little boy and girl who can do this
without help, ought to go to Barnum's, I
think, and see one of these big ugly fellows
with such a hard name.
I am sure none of us want to see one out-
side of a cage, though I have heard they
never do any harm if they are let alone.
Do you know where the hip-po-pot-a-mus
lives ?
I am glad to say, not in our woods, but
in a country far off, over the sea, called
When I tell you it lives in the water
most of the time, you will laugh, and say
"What a queer fish," and think it would
be pretty hard to draw him out with a hook.
But, of course, it is not a fish. Some
people call it a RIVER HORSE. It can swim
and dive, that is, go down under the water,
clear to the bottom of the lakes and rivers,

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and walk there, but it has to come up to
get breath.
It could not take a very long walk down
there if it breathed as fast as you and I do.
Its teeth are long and sharp, so that it
cuts grass and grain as well as men can
do with a scythe.
How would you like to have one to mow
your lawn ?
They do not like to live alone, so they go
in herds or droves.
What a sight it must be to see a drove of
them! and what a noise they must make
with their heavy tread, breaking down
every thing in their way. What funny
short legs they have!
Their skin is two inches thick; get some
one to show you how much that is, and you
will not think it strange that this one in
the picture does not know a big bird is on
its back.
What a funny way to carry the Babies!
What nice rides they must have, and sails

too, when their mamma takes a swim.
It is very hard to take or kill a Hip-po-
pot-a-mus, but sometimes big holes or pits
are dug in the ground, and they are caught
in that way.
The skin is so thick it is not easy to shoot
one, for the ball does not hurt, unless it
strikes the eye.
Once a little Hip-po-pot-a-mus was caught
when its mother was killed in this way.
It was taken to a house where very ten-
der care was taken of it.
Its food was a drink, or soup made of milk
and water, sugar and eggs, and a little salt,
which was put in a large bottle and fed to
it, just as you have seen babies fed.
It would take four bottles full and then
lie down and go to. sleep, like any other
baby, and snore, as I hope no other baby
ever did.
As. it grew up it had a big dog for a
play-mate, and they were very fond of each


What is the matter with Ethel and May ?
Standing there in such a grave way,
Always so full of frolic and fun,
As through the garden they shout and run.

Say, little birds, can you tell why?
Stop, busy bee, that goes buzzing by,
Tell us the secret you whispered there,
As you stopped to kiss that lily fair.

But birds and bees can never know
Half of the mischief they can do;
Those little girls, who at early dawn,
Scampered across the dewy lawn.

Out with the birds and flowers to play,
Laughing and chatting as blithe as they;
They pulled the leaves from roses rare,
They broke the stalks of lilies fair.

They rolled upon the pansies' bloom,
Crushing out their sweet perfume;


Then spying a nest, so wisely made,
They gathered the eggs within it laid.

Now tired of mischief, and tired of play,
Hand in hand they wend their way,
Where papa and mamma, wondering stand,
To view the havoc on every hand.

"What shall we do with Ethel and May?"
Sadly they hear dear papa say;
But, peering out from her hat's wide brim,
May's coaxing eyes look up at him.

And sweeter than rose or lily rare,
The sorry, sweet look of Ethel fair.
To the smile that steals to mamma's face,
This once pleads pardon from all disgrace.

Then what will they do with Ethel and May ?
Why, hug and kiss, and tuck them away
In their snug little beds, till another sun
Wakes them again to mischief and fun.


A little girl lives in New York, whose
name is Daisy; may be you know her.
She has lovely curls, but you can never
just tell the color of them, for she is not still
long enough, and you never think of the
color of her eyes, for such a loving heart
looks out of them, and the smiles dance
over her face and hide in the sweet dimples.
Her papa calls her "Sunshine," for she
makes every place as bright as the sunlight.
Daisy would feel very sorry to know of
any little girl that did not have a grandma;
she has one, and loves her so much.
She sits in her lap and pats her dear face,
calling every wrinkle "sweet" and "lovely."
You may be sure grandma loves her, and
last year she coaxed her papa and mamma
to let the little girl stay with her all summer.
Daisy was most crazy with joy to think
she should live so long with grandma in her
sweet country home.

Her curls flashed here and there, and the
dimples came faster than. ever. Grandma
did not wonder she was called "Sunshine,"
for the happy face made her heart so light
and warm, she almost felt like a little girl
I did not tell you of another name Daisy
had in her home. Her mamma sometimes
called her "Forget." I will tell you why.
Things came so fast in her little head of
all she wanted to do, there was not room for
all, so some of them had to run away, and
this would make her say "Oh, I forgot!"
One morning, at grandma's, as she sat on
the floor of her room, tugging at her shoes,
in haste to get out of doors, she saw a bird
on the window sill with its mouth full of
"Oh, robbie, is that you, come to tell me
you are going to make a house?" and up
she jumps to watch him, when grandma
called. Down she ran and did not think of
her shoes till grandma sung in such a funny




voice, "Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son
John," when she looked down at her feet,
where, "One shoe off, and one shoe on,"
made her scamper back to her room.
"Oh, I forgot!" came often in these days.
But one time and the last I must tell you of.
Grandma bought for Daisy a basketful
of things to work with. There were some
pretty letters for her to learn to make with
bright wool.
This pleased her so much, the first day did
not seem a bit long.
The next morning she could hardly wait
to get dressed, she was in such a hurry to
work a letter all by herself.
But when she ran down, full of joy, to
show it, grandma looked at her with a sober
"Why Daisy, what day is this?" said she.
"Oh, I forgot!" said Daisy, and her eyes
were full of tears, for she had worked on the
day she had been taught was "God's day,"
to keep holy.


"Tu-whit! tu-whit! tu-whoo!" screamed a
great owl, and down he flew.
There he stands on the trunk of that
old tree which is bent quite down to the
ground. What a quiet bird he is! he looks
as if he had a hood drawn close around his
face, and tied on the top of his head with
two stiff little bows. What big eyes he has,
and how proud and wise he looks.
Owls cannot see in the day time; they
sleep all day, and wink and blink so funny;
but in the night they are wide awake, and
can see much better than you or I, then they
fly off to see what they can find, and make
the woods ring with their "tu-whit! tu-whit!
Not far from the owl's nest there lives
some little field mice; there is the papa-
mouse, the mamma-mouse, and five or six
little ones.
One night one of the little ones asked his

mamma if he might go out to play, but she
said, "No! you are not old enough to go out
alone at night;" but the little mouse was
very vain, and, like some little girls and
boys, thought he knew best; so when his
mamma did not see him, off he ran. At first
he liked it very much; he found a few ker-
nels of corn and some seeds, which were so
sweet and good, that he thought he never
tasted anything so nice in all his life.
But his fun was soon spoiled; for that big
owl came down with a great swoop, and aQ
loud "tu-whit! tu-whit! tu-whoo!" and lit-
tle mousie's heart beat so fast, that it felt as
if it would jump out of his mouth; oh! how
he wished he had minded his mamma.
He turned to run home as fast as he could,
but did not run very far, poor little mousie,
for Mrs. Owl was watching with her big
eyes, and in a trice that great claw of hers
came with a whack, right down on little
mouse's back.
Are you not sorry for poor mousie?



This young girl, that you see in the pic-
ture, is in a garden. Sweet flowers and
green leaves are about her, and the sun
shines over her, but there is no color in the
flowers to her. She hears the leaves rustle,
but does not see their shape, and though she
feels the warm sun, there is nothing but
dark night around her, for the eyes that look
so clear and bright, have never seen the
sweet light of day.
No! Little Amy was born blind, and has
lived twelve years in this bright world
without seeing any of its beauty.
You think this is very sad, and so it is;
but if you think Amy's life has been dark
and sad, you are wrong. She is as happy as
a bird all the day long.
I think Amy sees things with her soul's
eyes, that are brighter than any that you
and I see with our real eyes, and so her
world is not dark.

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You know you can shut your eyes and
think of things, so that you really see them.
If you are away from home, you can think
just how home looks, and see all the dear
faces as if you were really there. That is
seeing with the soul's eyes. Don't you know
too, that you can see places that are describ-
ed to you, though you have never been
Amy lives in a home of love. No one
ever spoke in a harsh tone to her, so she sees
with her soul's eyes only lovely faces and
bright scenes.
As she sits in this pleasant garden, her
brother reads a nice story to her, and don't
you think she sees all the story tells, as well
as he does?
Amy can read, too. There are a great
many blind people in the world, and kind
hearts have found out ways to help them,
and books have been made, with raised let-
ters, so they can feel their shape, and read
with their fingers as we can with our eyes.

A tale I will tell,
How Jack, Tom, and Nell
And I, that is May,
Had a gay time one day.
On our way home from school,
In the woods that were cool,
We stood in the shade,
Which a beech tree had made.
The sun could see through
But a small leaf or two,
And in a dark nook,
Sung a cold, clear brook.
Oh! what a nice place,
Said each small, warm face;
Let us run home and see,
If we may here take our tea.
Through the grass went our feet,
When, who should we meet,
But aunt Sue, and old Trot,
Come to seek a cool spot.

Aunt Sue said she thought
Our meal could be brought;
So we went for our tea,
Full of fun and great glee.
The cook, fat and slow,
Gave us bread, white as snow,
Cakes, chuck full of spice,
And more that was nice.

Each took a white cup,
From the brook to dip up
What makes the best drink,
In the whole world, I think.
Then back to the woods,
With all our sweet goods--
To aunt and the dog,
Who sat on a log.

On a green bed of moss,
We laid out our sauce,
And down on our knees
Ate our good bread and cheese,

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