• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 The general's portrait
 Climbing the apple tree
 Olive and the puppy
 Paddle my own canoe
 Gertrude's exercise book
 A New-Year's gift
 Madge in her garden
 Wild flowers
 Conny's visit to the farm
 A Christmas party
 Dolly's playfellow
 A boat race!
 Two naughty little girls
 One fault leads to another
 The little artist
 Making a daisy-chain
 Too good an aim
 Out in the snow
 The snow statue
 The tug of war
 Two young fishermen
 Swimming
 Bubbles
 Lost Trotty
 Duke and the donkey
 The boys' race
 Work and play
 Daisy an Dumpling
 The color line
 Annie and her pet lamb
 Back Cover






Title: The stories Margie told
CITATION PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00052985/00001
 Material Information
Title: The stories Margie told
Physical Description: 64 p. : ill. ; 23 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Evans, Edmund, 1826-1905 ( Engraver )
Barraud, Francis, 1856-1924 ( Illustrator )
Weeks, Charlotte J ( Illustrator )
Edwards, Mary Ellen, 1839-ca. 1910 ( Illustrator )
George Routledge and Sons ( Publisher )
Dalziel Brothers ( Engraver )
Publisher: George Routledge & Sons
Place of Publication: London ;
New York
Publication Date: c1883
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1883   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1883   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1883
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: with many illustrations.
General Note: Some illustrations engraved by E. Evans and Dalziel, and drawn by Francis Barraud, Charlotte J. Weeks, M.E. Edwards.
General Note: Contains prose and verse.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00052985
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 - 002237936
notis - ALH8430
oclc - 62881308

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
    Frontispiece
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
    The general's portrait
        Page 5
    Climbing the apple tree
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
    Olive and the puppy
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
    Paddle my own canoe
        Page 12
        Page 13
    Gertrude's exercise book
        Page 14
        Page 15
    A New-Year's gift
        Page 16
        Page 17
    Madge in her garden
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
    Wild flowers
        Page 21
    Conny's visit to the farm
        Page 22
        Page 23
    A Christmas party
        Page 24
        Page 25
    Dolly's playfellow
        Page 26
        Page 27
    A boat race!
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
    Two naughty little girls
        Page 31
    One fault leads to another
        Page 32
        Page 33
    The little artist
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
    Making a daisy-chain
        Page 37
    Too good an aim
        Page 38
    Out in the snow
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
    The snow statue
        Page 42
    The tug of war
        Page 43
        Page 44
    Two young fishermen
        Page 45
    Swimming
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
    Bubbles
        Page 49
        Page 50
    Lost Trotty
        Page 51
    Duke and the donkey
        Page 52
        Page 53
    The boys' race
        Page 54
        Page 55
    Work and play
        Page 56
        Page 57
    Daisy an Dumpling
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
    The color line
        Page 61
    Annie and her pet lamb
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
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THE GENERAL'S PORTRAIT.



*'*1**1 V lfIf L ---'"---fty
T HE snow was falling fast. There
I : was no fear of a green Christ-
; mas this year. Most of the children
got out in spite of the snow for a short
time in the day, in the early part of
SDecember, but on the 22d, Mother
Goose kept plucking her geese so un-
ceasingly, that father and mother said,
You must amuse yourselves indoors
to-day, children." So they had to
"'make the best of it in the play-room,
f' .''. and managed to make the time pass
quickly enough in one way or an-
other; all except Henry, the third
l' 'boy in the family, who was a regular
pickle, and always getting himself or
somebody else into trouble.
Justbefore lunch, mamma looked
.' into the play-room and said, I hope
all of you boys will keep as quiet as
you can for the next few days, for
": General Pompline is coming this
jr evening to stay over Christmas, and
he doesn't like boys because they are noisy. You know he is an old
bachelor. He is a great friend of your father's, who is very fond of
him; and your father is anxious to take his portrait while he is stay-
here. Now, mind you don't go into the study, for father has put his







6 CLIMBING THE APPLE TREE.

easel and canvas there; and he tells me it is the last canvas he has
down here, he expects some from New York in a week or two; but
remember, this is very precious, and if it was knocked down he
would be extremely angry."
Henry had gone out of the play-room just before his mother
entered it; and what would she have said if she could have seen what
he was about at the very moment that she was warning the others!
Henry first flattened his nose against the staircase window to watch
the snow, and then as he turned about at a loss for some mischief to
do, he noticed the door of his father's study left open, and he peeped
in; finding the easel there with a canvas on it, he seated himself, and
set to work to paint the most frightful and ridiculous face upon it
that he could imagine.
The General arrived, and in the course of dinner Henry's father
told him of his plan of taking his portrait while he stayed there. He
said, "I have already prepared the canvas, it is on the easel in my
study; you must give.me a sitting early to-morrow morning."
The next morning the General, who rose very early, went into
the study before his host, and you may imagine his indignation when
he saw the canvas. Matters, however, were explained, and Henry
received due punishment.


CLIMBING THE APPLE TREE.
F ARMER NORRIS
Stood in his or-
S- ,j chard, looking up with
2, a self-satisfied air at
o o his well-laden apple
S trees. They were
.'- well laden this morn-
ing; but a morning or two hence not many apples would be left to










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Climbing the Apple Tree.






8 CLIMBING THE APPLE TREE.

grace the branches. Presently a little child ventured into the or-
chard, and stood beside the worthy farmer. The child was a pretty
little girl, of about six years old.
Well, well, Elsie," said the good-natured farmer, looking down
on his small companion, "and how's mother to-day ?"
The child shook her head as she answered, Mother ain't no
better."
"Ah, I feared so," said Farmer Norris. "I wish I knew any-
thing that would do her good; she should have it in a moment, that
she should, little woman, if I could give it to her."
The child looked up quickly in the farmer's face, and said as
.. she colored up, "I think
~ .mother'd like apple pie."
""- Hullo, Elsie," laughed
"" the farmer; you've got an eye
Sfor the apples, have you ? Well,
ws re'r we'll see about it. I'll ask the
missis to send your mother
round a basket with a few
"things, and some apples in it,
you may be sure;" and then
as the child thanked him, and
was running off, he called after her, Look here, Elsie, if you come
in here in three days, you shall have all the apples you can find for
yourself." And the farmer chuckled, for he thought the child would
be surprised at finding the trees bare.
At the end of the three days, the child again betook herself to
the farmer's orchard, and, as Mr. Norris supposed would be the case,
was greatly surprised at finding the trees all bare. She understood,
however, very quickly how it happened; but remembering what the
farmer had told her, she looked anxiously about to see if any apples
had been overlooked. He said I might have all the apples I could
find," said Elsie to herself; and she peered up into the branches.






OLIVE AND THE PUPPY. 9

Now at last she does see some apples; there are two hanging to-
gether on a small branch, quite high up. Without any hesitation
Elsie begins to climb up the tree, and, standing on a lower branch,
reaches up with all her might-but in vain-toward the coveted
apples. At last she makes a little jump, and all but touches the
apples; but, alas! poor Elsie loses her balance in doing this, and
falls heavily to the ground, where Farmer Norris finds her soon
after. She was not dangerously hurt, fortunately, and the farmer
was kinder than ever to her, as he fancied the accident was partly
his fault.



OLIVE AND THE PUPPY.

S I' T was a chilly day in autumn, and
Olive's mamma, who had a bad
, I:',II cold, was lying on the sofa in the
;,. ''':.1, ^I :,.. ,, drawing-room near a bright fire.
""'!,', Little Olive had been sitting beside
.; mamma looking over a picture
"book. I think mamma must have
-:' been taking forty winks, between
"- you and me; for somehow, with-
out hearing her little girl go out of
the room, she looked down at
.__--_--_- Olive's footstool, and discovered
there was no little girl there.
"Olive said mamma, "where are you ?" but it was quite
clear that the little person was no longer in the room.
Olive's mother was rather nervous, so she walked up-stairs to
the nursery, but Olive was not there: then she came down again
and noticed that Olive's garden hat was not hanging on its usual peg,







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OLIVE AND THE PUPPY. II

one low enough for Olive to reach quite easily. Oh!" said mamma
to herself, "she is gone into the garden, she has not put a jacket on,
and she will catch cold." So, forgetting her own cold, she went to
the door leading into the garden, and called, Olive! At first there
was no answer; then mamma put the warm shawl she wore, over her
head, and stepping into the garden, called again, louder, "Olive,
where are you ?" Then a little voice answered from a distance,
" Here I am, mamma; do come and see."
So Olive's mamma went in the direction where she fancied her
little girl's voice came from, and presently, turning a corner of the
garden which led to the yard, she discovered little Olive standing by
old Rose the watch-dog's kennel, holding a dear little puppy cuddled
up quite close in her arms.
Olive, Olive said mamma, when she got close to her child,
" you will catch cold, put the puppy down and come under my shawl
"back to the house."
Oh! but mammal" cried Olive, "what a sweet, dear little
puppy it is! Let me bring it too. See, Rose has another in the kennel
with her, so she can spare this one. I only want to pet it a little, she
shall have it again."
What do you think mamma did? Well, she was so afraid of
her little girl catching cold by standing there without her jacket, that
she actually threw her shawl round Miss Olive with the puppy in her
arms, and they all three went back to the house, rolled up in the
shawl together.
Now, I think Olive was a little bit spoiled.



WHEN I was out a-walking,
I met an old, old man;
What he said, and what I said,
Now, guess it if you can.










PADDLE MY OWN CANOE.

S ACK is really paddling his own canoe in
the picture. It is his own in every sense
: ,..? of the word, for, do you know, he built it
Himself. What do you think of that? Shall
I tell you how he managed it? though I
"can't describe the actual building of it to
-- "j you, for that would take too long. Well,
Jack was always very fond of boating, and.
whenever he had a chance he would persuade his mother to let him
go on the river Medway, which was at no great distance from their
house. At first, when he was only a little boy, an old boatman,
called Joe, used to go out with him, and taught him how to feather
his oars; and very soon Jack was as clever at rowing as his master.
Then Jack's great ambition was to have a canoe, and his mother
hired a room in the village as a workshop, in which Jack, who was.
quite a big boy now of fifteen, set to work in the holidays, and, with
the help of Joe, he actually managed to build himself that beautiful
canoe you see him in on the river.
Jack, of course, had learned carpentering and boat-building to a
certain extent before he attempted this-that is, he had looked on at
other canoes being built. But it was certainly very clever of him to
do it, and his mother was very proud of him, I can tell you, though
she could not help feeling rather nervous when she first saw him
starting off down the river to paddle his own canoe. However,
Jack had a prosperous voyage in the "Golden Arrow," as he had
christened the canoe, for he had a christening party on the occasion,
and his mother had broken a bottle of wine over the canoe as Jack
launched her for the first time; and then Jack and his great chum
at the public school where he was, went off down the river at a great








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14 GERTRUDE'S EXERCISE BOOK.

rate in their canoes. Jack's friend was ahead at first, but before long
Jack took the lead and kept it, his canoe shooting rapidly through
the water like a true Golden Arrow."



GERTRUDE'S EXERCISE BOOK.

SG ERTRUDE'S governess
gave her a good many, and
rather difficult, lessons. Ger-
trude, I must tell you, was a
S- yr very intelligent little girl of ten
i-i 1 years old, and perfectly well
.' able to do all the lessons that

.!! i Gertrude was a perverse child,
"rather spoiled, for she was the
only girl, and not a little conceited.
One morning at lessons Gertrude was very tiresome, and Miss
Clements said: Now, you have been so perverse, and have given
me so much trouble this morning, Gertrude, that you must write me
two French exercises this evening instead of one, and I shall expect
to find them very nicely done to-morrow morning."
Gertrude grew red, but answered: Very well, Miss Clements."
Miss Clements was sitting by the window after tea, and she
saw Gertrude seated at a table, surrounded with her lesson books,
and with her exercise book open before her, busily scribbling away
in it. Miss Clements thought to herself that Gertrude was going
to be a very good little girl, and that she was trying to make up for
having been so tiresome in the morning; so being a tender-hearted
person, she said: Gertrude, dear, if you are very tired, and if your
head aches, I will let you off one of the exercises, for you have




























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Gertrude's Exercise Book.







16 A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.

several things that you must write this evening, in order to prepare
for to-morrow."
Gertrude looked up, and, with a short little laugh, answered,
"Oh! no, I'm not at all tired, Miss Clements; I like writing."
"Very well," replied Miss Clements; "then in that case you had
better write both exercises."
Gertrude did not answer, but went on busily scribbling, until it
was time for her to go and be dressed for dessert. She then shut
up her books hastily, and putting them away with a self-satisfied air,
went out of the school-room.
When she was gone, Miss Clements thought she would just
look at Gertrude's exercise to see how she had done it, when she
discovered, to her surprise-and very much the reverse of pleasure
-that this naughty child had been writing a story of her own inven-
tion, called, "The Disagreeable Governess!" instead of an exercise.
Miss Clements quietly tore out the leaves, and burned them, and the
next morning made Gertrude begin copying all her exercises into a
new book; and this she had to do out of lesson hours until they
were all copied. I think it served her right.


A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.

C HARLIE had learned to ride when he was a
very little fellow; he lived in the country,
had even gone out with the hounds, riding
proudly beside his father, and had taken his
fences bravely, too, when he was barely nine
< years old. And Baldy, his piebald pony, had
carried him well. Baldy was given to him when
She was six years old, and now Charlie was twelve,
Baldy was still a strong, stout, handsome little
































































A Nez Year's Gift.







18 MADGE IN HER GARDEN.

animal, and did not show that he had ever been any younger, but,
alas Master Charlie's legs showed that they had once been much
shorter. The fact was, that Charlie had outgrown his pony. It was
acknowledged by the whole family, and, very sadly, by Charlie him-
self. But what was to be done ? Charlie really began to fear that
if his legs went on growing as they had for the last six months, his
feet would touch the ground on each side of Baldy.
However, one New Year's morning a note came from his
grandmamma offering to make an exchange with him. "Give me
dear little Baldy for my pony carriage," wrote grandmamma. "I
shall be very kind to him, and not work him too hard, and I shall
eventually turn him out to spend a happy old age in the fields; and
you take in exchange the young thoroughbred bay horse which I
now send over with this note; his name is Sultan."
Charlie was delighted with the beautiful horse given him by
his grandmamma, but I think a tear dropped in among the oats as
he went into Baldy's stall to feed him for the last time, while Sultan
looked over from his loose box with rather a jealous eye.



MADGE IN HER GARDEN.

-." ADGE was the daughter
of a market gardener, and
"her greatest delight was to
S ... help her father in the care of
his flowers. The vegetables,
Which were sent up to New
"-:...--i--_- York every day, Madge did
not have anything to do with.
But in the flower' garden,"
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20 MADGE IN HER GARDEN.

"my daughter Madge beats all the men and boys hollow." Madge
was a good daughter to her mother, too, and helped very cheerfully
in household duties, but the garden was a sort of paradise to the
girl: she loved all flowers, from the little wintry snowdrop, common
daisy, and lowly violet, to the gay and fragrant rose. In the bright,
beautiful summer mornings Madge would be out in the garden
while the flowers were all wet with dew, and would carry her little
basket round, clipping away the dead flowers from their living com-
panions. She would weed, too. Nothing came amiss to her in the
way of taking care of and beautifying her garden.
Madge had a love for bees, and the honey they made; and,
indeed, that honey, when sold, helped to bring in money to Madge's
little pocket. The girl was most learned upon the subject of bees;
she knew what to feed them upon and how to manage them; and
the strange thing was that she declared the bees knew her, and
would not sting her if she went ever so near to them. This I be-
lieve to have been quite true with the proper, worthy, working bees
in the hive; but she certainly got sadly stung one day by a great
big buzzing bee, who might have been a stranger. This is how it
happened: Madge was wandering round the garden one glorious
July morning, clipping here and weeding there, and every now and
then stopping to smell some fragrant blossom. She had just got to
a lovely rose-bush, laden with most splendid flowers. This bush
grew at no great distance from a collection of Madge's hives; so,
between you and me, I believe the insect to have been one of the
girl's own particular pets, though she would not have it so. Just
as Madge was stooping to smell the rose, a bee came out of it and
hovered round. Madge stooped lower, when, with a buzz of
defiance, the horrid thing flew into the poor child's face and stung
her pretty little nose! Poor Madge cried out and had to wear her
prettiest feature tied up in a blue bag for the rest of the day,
which must have been extremely tiresome for her, let alone the
pain of the sting; still Madge would hear no ill of her bees !
























WILD FLOWERS.


T HE summer has almost departed,
Yet the flowers are blooming still:
The wild thyme, mint, and crocus,
And the heather upon the hill.

The harebells will ring out a welcome;
The tall grass will bow as you pass;
The large ox-eyed daisy yet lingers;
These will not be long here, alas!

So this wise little maiden before us
Has come out to gather and glean,
And a trophy of bright-colored flowers
I -

















ll soon grace the cottage, I ween.
WILD FLOWERS.








She was out in the morning so earted,
et the flowers are scarceblooming stillawake;
Yet she tooild them while they were sleeping-
"And thine heather upon the gave them a shake.ill.
The harebells will ring out a welcome;
Tihe tall grass will bow as you pass;
The large ox-eyed daisy yet lingers;
These will not be long here, alas!
So this wise little maiden before us
Has come out to gather and glean,
And a trophy of bright-colored flowers
Will soon grace the cottage, I ween.

She was out in the morning so early
The flowers were scarcely awake;
Yet she took them while they were sleeping-
"Lazy things !" and she gave them a shake.






22 CONNY'S VISIT TO THE FARM.

They fancied the hour was later;
Their heads were all heavy with dew;
And they woke with a cold sort of shiver,
The world seemed so strange and so new.

'Twas sad for the poor, pretty flowers;
But the child will make her home bright
With the blossoms she gathered so early,
On the mornings when scarce it was light.



CONNY'S VISIT TO THE FARM.

..HATshall
Se we do
S" .._.with Conny ?
asked Conny's
mamma, in a
sad and per-
plexed tone of
voice.
"We must
.think what is
best to be done,"
1 _answered Con-
S-- any's papa, who
was also sad
.--- and perplexed.
Now I must tell
~you why this
--, .state of feeling
existed on their






CONNY'S VISIT TO THE FARM. 23

parts. The reason was this: that Conny's grandpapa, who had been
obliged to go abroad for his health, was taken suddenly worse, and
his daughter and her husband had been sent for. They did not
like to leave Conny-their only little child of four years old-with
only the servants in Boston, and they did not like to take her with
them, so you see why they were so troubled. However, in the
course of the following day things seemed to right themselves, as
they so often do, and it was arranged that Conny should go and
stay with her nurse at a farm-house in Hampshire, the home of
Conny's mamma's old nurse, who had married a farmer and settled
on a delightful farm near the New Forest.
When Conny reached the farm-house, rather late one afternoon,
the day after her father and mother had started for Europe, she was
greeted with, while she was having her delicious farm-house tea,
the news-evidently considered of the first importance-that she
was just in time for gathering in the apples; and before she went
to bed she was walked round the orchard, a fine, large field filled
with splendid fruit trees. Conny thought them very funny looking,
for they were, many of them, so twisted in shape and some so heavily
laden with fruit, that they had to be propped up. Apple, and pear,
and plum trees grew in this orchard. Every kind of apple under
the sun was to be found there, and the finest pears. Splendid plums,
too, and a good many damson trees.
The next morning Conny was up betimes and out in the or-
chard, for was she not promised to be allowed to help in the apple
gathering, and did she not stand with her little basket under the
apple trees and get it filled over and over again, and proudly bear
it off to the house to empty it in the great storeroom of the farm ?
It was a grand amusement for Conny, I can tell you, that apple
gathering, and it lasted nearly all the time she spent at the farm, for,
as it happened, in a few days she returned to Boston, papa and
mamma having come home to their dear little girl, as grandpapa had,
fortunately, got much better.









,- ,,.. ,.-.... i ': : ,













A CHRISTMAS PARTY.

C HRISTMAS chimes are ringing, with them ever bringing
Merry sounds of greeting, welcome to us all;
Little eyes look brighter, little hearts seem lighter,
Most certainly they do, when going to a ball.

Down the staircase slipping, merrily come tripping
Little feet so swiftly-lightly do they fall;
And then standing proudly, speaking not too loudly
Rose tells us she is ready, waiting in the hall.

And soon, in mirth and gladness, without one thought of sadness,
The child steps out into the darkness of the night;
The carriage wheels are rolling, on snow are softly bowling,
And stop before a house all gayety and light.








A Nsr


I i4~d~j~N

x- ,


W I


rp

5N Q\
4WN




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



~: :I


















Christmas Party.







26 DOLLY'S PLAYFELLOW.

All music, fun and chatter, of children's feet the patter
Is heard around, and Rose is lost amid the throng;
But soon she's gayly dancing, her soft eyes brightly glancing;
And then into the supper-room, but not for very long.

Thus Rose, like some young fairy, flits hither, thither, airy,
Forgetting all the hours, so swiftly have they passed;
And she really looks despairing, with eyes of wonder staring,
When she's told the time for going home has really come at last.

But soon, her eyelids closing, poor Rose is.really dozing;
Before the little girl is even resting in her bed,
The ball and all its brightness, its gayety and lightness,
Are vanished quite away, and gone from out her little head!





DOLLY'S PLAYFELLOW.

'" NT 0, Dolly won't fret, I am
SL i i sure," said D olly's m am -
ma to that small person's
Ii"ii, vr-{.- grandmamma; "she will be
!. quite happy with you, mother,
S"' V and I shall feel quite happy
at leaving her in your care."
II i,,, "I shall be very, very
".f: l -I ~glad to have the charge of
the dear little woman," replied
Dolly's grandmamma. But
I am so afraid she may find it dull without companions of her own






DOLLY'S PLAYFELLOW. 27

age! You see there will be no other children for her to play with;
however, we must manage the best we can to amuse her."
Little Dorothy Chalmers was much younger than her two
brothers, and the only little girl in the family. Charlie and Fred
Chalmers were to spend their midsummer holidays abroad with
their father and mother, and Dolly was to spend that time with her
grandmamma, who, as we see, was rather perplexed about finding
amusement for Miss Dolly.
When New York had just become most hot and disagreeable,
the Chalmers family left the dusty, dried-up city, and the elder mem-
bers of it started for Boston, while little Dolly went to Pentwood
Place-grandmamma's country house. Dolly was just six years old,
and though she was very, very sorry that she could not be with
mamma, papa, and the two boys, yet she did most thoroughly enjoy
her country life. On the first evening of her arrival, grandmamma
showed her a piece of ground set apart for her to have as her own
little garden; and showed her a beautiful swing, just put up for her;
and then dear, funny grandmamma said: Dolly, darling, I have no
little girls or boys staying in the house to play with you-though I
hope we shall have some little people over to spend the days while
you are with me, and have a game at tennis with you; but I have a
little four-footed playfellow for you that I think you will like very
much. He is a very intelligent little creature, and very affectionate;"
and then grandmamma called, "Sky, Sky! and the sweetest little
dog ran up to her. "Ah! Dolly!" cried grandmamma, "I see you
are laughing; you think Sky a funny little playfellow for you, but
you must see him do some of his tricks, and tell me if you don't
think him very clever." So grandmamma made Sky perform all
sorts of wonderful tricks, much to the delight of Dolly; and the
little girl quite agreed in thinking he would make a very amusing
companion. Sky took a great fancy to the child, and followed her
everywhere, and would obey her, and perform his tricks for her as
willingly as for grandmamma herself. He would scamper off, run-







28 A BOAT RACE!

ning races with her for the tennis balls, and when she sat down to
rest, he would sit down on his hind legs opposite to her, staring at
her with bright eyes, waiting till she was ready to be off again, look-
ing so comical that no one could help laughing.




A BOAT RACE!

J ACK and George and Arthur were great
J, friends-or chums, as the schoolboys would
j say. Jack and George were the sons of
Squire Beckwith of Pentley, and Arthur was
'';.' the only son of the Rector of Pentley. The
""-s three boys went to the same school, and
during the holidays spent much of their time
Together. One glorious afternoon late in
_0 .d' .', the midsummer holidays, Jack and George
"^ came down to the Rectory and called for
L Arthur to go down to the river to swim their
boats. They each had a cutter much of the same size and build,
and the three boys had determined to race them.
Jack Beckwith was a good-tempered looking, fair-haired boy of
twelve; George was a mischievous little urchin of ten, with curling
hair; and Arthur was a plain-faced but good little fellow of about
eleven. Jack's boat was called "The Falcon," Arthur's "The Snake,"
and George had given his the very ugly name of "The Emetic,"
after a yacht belonging to one of his uncles. Jack was good-tempered
looking, but, alas! he was somewhat hasty, and had contracted the
disagreeable schoolboy way of bullying or sternly dictating to his
little brother; and George, who was high spirited, did not knock
under as much as perhaps would have been wise.

































































'~--- -------s~ 5~- -'I-- ~
Aaa



















I hLi




























A Boat Race!/







30 A BOAT RACE!

The three boys soon got down to the river-side. How lovely
it was down there, with the trees swaying in the breeze and the
waterflags rocking in the current! The boats made a good start,
"The Emetic" leading, "The Falcon, and "The Snake" last.
George, in his excitement at seeing his boat leading, tucked up his
trousers and rushed into the water, fanning the little cutter with his
straw hat as if to encourage it on its way, while Arthur beckoned on
his boat as if to hasten it in
S- that manner. At first Jack
Laughed at the two other boys
a-- .- "sd for their efforts at hurrying
,1 their boats on, but presently
Finding that "T he F alcon "
m s-'- .. ... h was losing and had turned
-d- into a bad third, he grew an-
noyed, and told Georgie to
come out of the water, in a
S -- very cross voice. For answer
impudent George sprinkled him well, making his clothes quite wet,
whereupon Jack rushed at him to give him a thrashing, and George
stepping quickly aside, poor Jack fell head over heels into the river;
in doing this he unluckily swamped his own boat, breaking off the
masts as he fell. The river was shallow and Jack could swim, so
the accident was not so bad as it might have been. But it taught
him not to lose his temper so easily again.




A JUG and a basin-for what, do you think?
With water to wash little fingers from ink;
For some little children, alas! are so
Fond of touching such things, you know.


















TWO NAUGHTY LITTLE GIRLS.

IT was a fine spring day, the birds were singing, the sky was
bright, and the primroses were covering the banks. The chil-
dren in the school-house cast many a longing look out of the win-
dow, wishing they were out in the happy sunshine, instead of
sitting in the close school-room conning their lessons. Two neatly-
dressed little girls came out of school together, and turning out of
the little wooden gate, walked hand in hand down the country road.
"I say, Mary," said the tallest of the two children, a pretty
black-eyed little girl of nine or ten, don't you hate being in school
when the long days begin, and when the spring flowers come out ?
I do so.want to get some primroses, too, for the Squire's lady up at
the house said as she'd give a penny to any of the children as
brought her a good basketful of wild flowers."
Why! exclaimed little Mary, what'd the Squire's lady want
with them flowers ? "
Oh! answered Janey, she wants the wild flowers to send to
New York, I believe, for the hospitals. The sick folk is so fond of
wild flowers. Now, I'm not going to school to-morrow afternoon.
I shall say mother wants me at home, as she's washing, and you say
your mother wants you because baby's cutting his teeth, and then
you can help, and get a penny."
"Little Mary agreed to the naughty proposal of her friend, and
the children separated; but I hope, and believe, their hearts were






32 ONE FAULT LEADS TO ANOTHER.

the heavier for their determination to do evil. However, the next
afternoon the two little girls put a bold face upon the matter, and
each told a falsehood in order to keep away from school; then, leav-
ing their mothers-to whom they also told untruths-believing that
they had gone to school as usual, they ran off to the wood to gather
the primroses. They soon collected a sweet bunch, and, as they
had no baskets, were thinking of filling their pinafores with the
flowers to take to the house, when they heard a crackling of the
branches near them, and presently Janey's brother rushed up to
them with a white face. Mary," he cried, run along home! The
baby's in fits, and yer mother sent up to school for yer to come back
at once; there wasn't no one at home to go for the doctor, so I
runned off for he. And yer mother was almost distracted, too, when
she heard as you wasn't at school; and so is mother, Jane," he went
on, "heartbroken to think you could deceive her so. I heard yer
talking as I went down the road, and that's how I found yer."
The baby recovered, but Jane and Mary were well punished for
playing truant.




ONE FAULT LEADS TO ANOTHER.

SM AKE haste, Willy! Make
haste!" cried Tom Evans,
S 'as he rushed out of the house;
PI "we have only five minutes
'' to reach the school-house in,
j.4 .-- "-." and sha'n't we catch it if we're
U.; la late?"
-1 -- a-e "All right," answered
Willy, an obstinate little fel-






ONE FAULT LEADS TO ANOTHER. 33

low of nine, I'm coming, but I must just give a spin to my new
peg-top first."
"Willy, Willy!" said mother, who overheard her little son,
"one thing at a time-school first and peg-top afterward. Now
run off after Tom at once, like a good boy."
Willy picked up his top, and gathering up his books slung them
over his shoulder and started off after Tom. But no sooner had
Master Willy got out of sight of his own home, than down went his
slate on the ground and out came his peg-top, and Willy set to
work to spin his top, utterly regardless of the precious five minutes
which, now long past, ought to have seen him into school.
When Willy had spun his top half a dozen times or so, he
thought about school, and after a moment's consideration, deter-
mined to make his appearance there, late as it was; so picking up his
slate and hiding his top in his satchel he marched on till he came
to the school, and quietly walked in.
"How is it you are so late?" said the master, looking very
severe.
Willy hesitated for just half a second, then looking up in the
master's face, this bad little boy answered: "Please, sir, baby fell
down-stairs and hurt himself, and my mother made me run for the
doctor I"
See how terribly one fault leads to another! If Willy had only
obeyed his mother, and put by his top until after school, all would
have been right. But an act of disobedience led to telling a lie!
Tom looked up as he heard his brother speaking to the master,
and colored. After school, as he was walking back home with
"Willy, he was very angry, and said, I am ashamed to call you my
brother Willy, now."
Willy answered, "Well, I should have been caned if I had told
the truth.".
Tom shook his head as he wisely said, It will be best for you,
Willy, if you don't get off the caning now." However, of course







34 THE LITTLE ARTIST.

Tom was not going to tell; but in the evening, the schoolmaster-
who suspected something-called on Willy's mother, and soon
found out how matters were, and Master Willy got rather more of
a caning than he would have had if he had spoken the truth.




THE LITTLE ARTIST.

O- RACE'S papa
was an artist,
---- \and Horace's
aunt was an art-
ist too. Now
the little boy-
who was the
h eldest of three,
and only six
years old-used
to escape from
the nursery
S and companion-
-z----=_ship of his
little sister and
brother, in order to sit in his father's studio and watch him paint.
How wonderful and how delightful it seemed to the child to see the
lovely glowing colors appear, to see soft, lovely flesh tints grow
under his father's brush, and beautiful forms stand out from the
canvas-forms that seemed so real as well as graceful! Horace
would watch his father silently, yet he was perfectly happy until
mamma would come and run off with her little boy, and persuade
him to go and play out of the paint atmosphere of the studio. But








































$1~
h Ar


























The Little Artist.







36 THE LITTLE ARTIST.

Horace would find his way back again, and, at last he made up his
mind that he must ask papa to let him try and paint a picture too.
So going up to him one evening as he was just starting off to bed,
he said: Papa, pray let me try to make a picture! "
My little man," said papa, you must wait a few years before
you do that; think what a mess you would get in with the paints."
Horace looked disappointed, and then kind Aunt Totty, who
painted animals in water-colors in a wonderfully clever way, said,
"Suppose Horace begins in a more humble manner, and tries to
paint animals, like I do, in water-colors; and suppose he begins
with crayons."
Horace brightened up at this, and the next day, Aunt Totty ar-
rived with a drawing block and some crayons, and set the little man
at work; he now was content to sit in mamma's boudoir and amuse
himself by drawing copies of Aunt Totty's pictures, a good many of
which hung upon the walls; then in a little while he determined to
attempt a likeness of Jack, the great, big cat. He was such a sleepy
fellow that Horace had no trouble in making him keep still to have
his likeness taken. He just put Jack on mamma's little five o'clock
tea-table, and sitting down in his own little straw chair, Horace
began the picture. Pussy sang him a loud purring song of encour-
agement until he fell too sound asleep; and I must tell you that the
sketch was very successful, as I think you can judge from the illus-
tration on the other page.





THE wind blew hard, the wind blew strong,
And blew Lucinda fast along;
At last it blew her up in the air;
Now, has she come down, or is she still there ?










MAKING A DAISY-CHAIN.

S- USILY, busily working,
". -_ Making a daisy-chain,
S Threading the dainty flowers,
Over and over again.

SFlowers that fade so quickly,
Bearing a life so frail,
Yielding such joy, and wonder,
S"- Each little daisy pale.


Each little golden-eyed flower
Working for some little good,
Fulfilling a holy mission
If 'twere but understood.

Each of the wild field-flowers,
As they in beauty stand,
Speak to us in their sweetness,
Bear witness of God's hand.

Each of the feathery grasses,
Each little leaf on a tree,
Is sent, a tiny messenger,
From God to you and me.

To tell of His infinite power,
To tell of His tender care,
To remind us to be thankful
That He made our world so fair.










TOO GOOD AN AIM.

li T HREE boys were on their way to school:
1 Tom, Harry, and Edwin. Tom was a freckled,
red-haired boy, rough and rude, fond of teasing
smaller boys, fond of hunting animals and birds;
Sin fact, that most horrid of boys, a bully I Harry
was more humane; but he was a coward, for he
Should see small boys and helpless creatures tor-
""mented and tortured without interfering, because
': he was afraid of being hurt himself. Edwin was
the youngest boy of the three; but he was a
good-hearted and plucky little fellow, and often got a hard blow
from Tom for standing up for any weaker creature than himself.
As they went to school on this chill autumn morning, they could
see the birds sitting shivering on the bare branches of the trees.
The poor little things were feeling a foretaste of the coming winter,
and thinking how sad for them it was that summer was gone. Tom
cast his evil eye in their direction, and ex-
claimed: "I say, what a lark it would be to ,
bring some of those birds down. I bet I'd' -
knock one off his perch in three throws."
"I bet you wouldn't," said Harry, and
we haven't time for you to try; so come
along, we shall be late getting to school as /
it is," and he began running.
Tom picked up a big stone, and was
just going to throw it, when Edwin caught
hold of his arm, and said, "You shan't try '! ,
and kill the birds; how stupid, as well as
cruel of you. What good would it do you to knock one down ? I
won't see you do it."







OUT IN THE SNOW. 39

Tom gave Edwin a blow, and said, "Come on, Preacher; if
you don't wish to see me do it, turn your head another way, Miss
Tenderheart;" and, so saying, he flung the stone at a beautiful
thrush that was perched on a lower branch of a tree which grew by
the roadside. Alas! he took too good an aim; the very first stone
he threw knocked the life out of the bird. There it lay on its back
quite dead, for the stone had broken its back. Tom gave a whistle
and set off running, followed by Harry; but Edwin remained look-
ing with a troubled face upon the poor dead bird. How sorry he
felt about it, and how angry with the vicious boy who had caused
the mischief! He followed the others to school with a weight at
his heart; and during the day he fought with Tom, and, although
the smaller boy, he managed to thrash him.




OUT IN THE SNOW.

SIT was Christmas-day! and just the sort
I 'of weather we are supposed to have at
Christmas-time. Snow, snow, snow, falling
S'. everywhere! There were not many people
fi out and about to run the chance of being
S \ frozen on this Christmas afternoon; only
S/ii 'those who could not help it. And one of
\ ,those poor luckless beings was a girl-a
S mere child of ten or eleven years old.
S" '.... Little Margaret had been out for many
hours-driven out by her aunt, who was
supposed to take care of the orphan child. Margaret had sold so
few oranges that she was afraid to go back with the two or three
cents she had gained, for her aunt would be very angry at not re-










ILI, L



Io



01"IV
11.113~




4"t

















MIIMM- O

Out in he Snow






OUT IN THE SNOW. 41

ceiving more. The little girl wandered on and on in the driving
snow; and at last, worn out and chilled to the bone, the poor child
sat down on a doorstep. She took from her pocket a piece of bread
that a kind-hearted cook had given her a little while before, and tried
to eat it; but she was sick from cold and fatigue, and could not
swallow it.
Inside the house, on the steps of which she sat, there was
warmth and plenty; happy children were enjoying their glad Christ-
mas. Margaret could hear pattering feet and merry laughter. Pres-
ently there was a moment's silence, and then came the sound of a
harmonium, and voices rose together-voices of old and young,
and of many little children-singing, Hark! the herald angels."
Margaret heard the hymn as from a long,
long way off, yet how sweetly and dis-
tinctly came the words, "Peace on earth,
and mercy mild." Mercy! what was
mercy? was it kindness ? but in her .
troubled, weary brain she could hardly
think what it was. No kindness was -
shown to her now, not since mother had -.., '
died. (Her aunt could be kind to her '
own children, but was always telling Mar- ; .
garet there was no room for her.) Mother was in heaven! she knew
she was, for mother was so good. Was mercy there, then, and only
there? Ah! she should find it, and mother, too, if she could go
there. Was she, perhaps, going now? thought the poor child, as she
fell back on the doorstep. But perhaps there was not room" for
her there; and, with a half-uttered prayer to God to "make room for
mother's little girl in heaven," the child sank into unconsciousness.
But in a little while the door of the house is opened, and people
come trooping out. Little Margaret was discovered, taken inside
and well cared for, not only then, but all her life; and long before she
was a woman she learned that mercy was to be found even on earth.












THE SNOW STATUE.

---\ COLD winter's morning in
-' _T Boston! the air keen enough
"a '-I to nip off the noses of the white
-- or black folks who were disport-
---'-- ing themselves on the common;
S- the ice was strong enough to
e . y bear wagons-heavily loaded
ones too, and drawn by six cart-
horses-if need be; only why
should there be need, when the
roads were to be found in spite
of all the thick snow lying on
them. Boys of both colors were playing on that common-some
sliding, some snowballing, and a few had set to work, with a will, to
build up a snow-man. And the best joke was that this snow-man
was intended to be the statue and cxact likeness of Old Jake, a
colored man, who lived hard by. When Old Jake came out, hob-
bling along with his stick, and, peering through his spectacles, ob-
served the wonderful statue, he was informed by the boys for whom
it was intended. He was greatly delighted with the compliment,
and being a funny old man gave vent to his feelings in the follow-
ing verses:

So, dat's my statue, is it boys ?
I 'preciates de honor;
Dere's right smart chance o' likeness
In dat stately bigger yon'er.







THE TUG OF WAR. 43

'Taint ebery stinguished culled man
Gits sculpt while live and kickin,
And tho' I'm on'y done in snow,
It's mighty pleased dis chicken!

But ain't de face a'mos' too pale,
Now dat's my on'y section,
You haf to git some black snow now
To tech up de complexion.

De features am de berry ting,
De bigger am perfection;
I raelly can't find any fault
Except wid de complexion!


THE TUG OF WAR.

I ^X\,J E were sitting on the
'-^^ lawn under the beech
Streets at Penstone; Jack, my
S-nephew, then a long, thin, active
it boy of sixteen, was lying on
'I A .the grass watching the white,
-fleecy clouds as they flew over
the blue sky. Suddenly, and
i unexpectedly, he said, "Now,
: Aunt Lucy, you're not strong,
S--- why don't you go in for gym-
nastics; now if you were to
practice on the bar that Aunt Jane let me have put up in the field
there, you'd find yourself another woman in no time."
"It is not very complimentary of you, Jack," I answered, to
talk as if my becoming another woman would be an advantage;







44 THE TUG OF WAR.

still, I should like to see the bar and find out the use you make
of it."
"Come along then! cried Jack, "and you shall see."
We all followed him to the field, and there saw two upright
poles, about eight feet high, standing in the field, and a horizontal
bar joining them at the top. Jack first swarmed up one of the posts,
and then seated himself on the top bar; when there he executed
many eccentric movements with both arms and legs, and suddenly
threw himself head downward, and hung by his feet for a few
seconds, getting so terribly red in the face that I thought he would
have a fit every minute. When once I saw him standing safely
right side uppermost again-for I did not dare to speak before-I
could not help saying: "Well, Jack, if I have to go through such
performances as that in order to become another woman, I think I
much prefer remaining as I am."
Jack looked at me with a slight expression of scorn in his face,
as he said: Ah! you don't know how jolly it is when you're used
to it."
Although I certainly never did mean to get used to it, I think
Jack made me take an interest in gymnastics, for I take pleasure in
seeing others perform them, and never lose an opportunity of doing
so. Not long ago I went to a boys' school on purpose to see the
gymnasium, and was very much surprised and pleased at the feats
I saw the boys perform. One of the favorite sports was The Tug
of War. When I was there, I saw three big boys pulling at the
rope against four smaller ones to make the sides equal. The little
fellows got the best of it in the end.


THE leaves are turning brown and dry,
They fall all round as we pass by;
The country looks all cold and drear,
No flowers, no fruit, no birds are here.










TWO YOUNG FISHERMEN.

A RTHUR was playing at tennis on the lawn with his
sisters, when presently the little iron gate leading into
the wood gave a click, and who should appear but
Fred Spearman, Arthur's great friend.
Hullo," cried Arthur, "just in time to take a
turn. Edith is pretty well jacked, and will be
very glad to give up her bat to you, Fred." B-
"Oh," said Fred, don't mind me. I came
up to ask you to come out fishing this afternoon; I
that is, if you're not wanted," he added, turning to
the girls.
Edith and Flora, who were both playing
against Arthur, declared they were both too tired, '
or "jacked as Artie called it, to play any more; 0
so the two boys started off to the punt on the
river, leaving the girls to their crewel-work on the
lawn.
The river was very still, but what
little current there was where the punt
was fastened carried the poor little fishes
down toward the young anglers, and
many and many a beautiful little
~--.;--=,
white wriggling creature came to an .
untimely end that day.
At last Arthur, who had not been quite so fortunate as Fred,
hitherto, felt a strong bite, his float disappeared, and he pulled vig-
orously at his rod; but the harder he dragged at the line, the harder
did the fish pull at the other end.
"Fred, I've caught something at last," cried Master Arthur,
with pride.






46 SWIMMING.

"Some big fish, too, and no mistake," said Fred, at once ready
with the net.
"What can it be?" cried Arthur, as he tugged harder and
harder.
It must be a pike! said Fred.
"Yes, I fancy there are no other very large fish hereabouts, but
it takes a precious long time to haul him up. I wonder what he
looks like! and so saying, Arthur gave him a more vigorous jerk
than ever, but no fish came up.
I don't know what it can be," now said Arthur, anxiously;
"my rod hasn't caught in anything, because I felt the bite, and I
have had to let out more line."
"Don't be so impetuous," advised Fred; "humor him a bit, and
you'll see we shall have him." However, at that moment the fish
made a desperate effort to get away, and did so, carrying part of
the line with him, and nearly upsetting Arthur into the river back-
ward.


SWIMMING.

"H OW delightful it must be
"A_ for these boys, on this
--hot July afternoon, to find
such a famous bathing-place!
What a number of them! Let
us count. Why, there are
seven. Shall I tell you their
--- ---.- names? Well, that is Tom
--- --_ Burton swimming off, with his
_. head just out of the water; he
is a capital swimmer, and looks
as if he enjoyed the water; does not he ? As to Dick Danvers, you



























iMill
Si7n
_________ ~c_! ~ R ~1?;%-i-








Ejr-f~A



f~/


__ ~- _
~. _i____ _







48 SWIMMING.

not only see his head but his toes, too; he is floating; I am sure
that boy is a funny one by the look of him. John Murray is just
preparing to take a run on the board, and leap into the river; and
Frank Andrews has already taken the plunge, head foremost, for
we certainly see his heels well up in the air. Philip Andrews is
pulling Charlie Monroe out of the water, for the poor boy has been
in too long, and is feeling cramped; and Walter Andrews has
already had his bath, and is busily dressing himself. I trust the
river is not very deep just there, unless all those boys can
swim very well. I was reading a day or two ago of a boy who was
drowned by venturing out too far in the current of the river, when
he could not swim well, where it was very deep. He was swept
away, and drowned! How terribly sad for his poor father and
mother! It happened to be on his birthday, too, and he was their
only child! The boys who were bathing with him did all they
could to save him, but in vain; he was swept away, and his body
was not found for several days.
I hope all my little readers will one day learn to swim: it is
such a necessary thing for both boys and girls to do. What hap-
piness it must be to have the power of saving another person's life.
Even if you should not be in a position that you may one day find
the knowledge of swimming useful to yourself, it is quite possible
that it may be useful to others. I once met a lady who was such a
good swimmer, and such a brave woman, that she had saved the
lives of two or three people, and had received a medal from the
Royal Humane Society for doing it. And I heard of two ladies,
the other day, who saw a young girl carried out to sea, beyond her
depth, while bathing, and, dressed as they were, they rushed into
the water, and being able to swim, they saved the young girl's life.
Swimming is not difficult to learn; it just requires a little
courage, and to make up your mind that is not such a dreadful thing
to be plunged head over ears in water for a little while. There is
no doubt that every one can swim if they will but try to learn.





































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-B ubbles.
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BUBBLES.

IGHER, higher! ever so high,
SSee the bubbles how they fly
There they lie
Green and pink,
Going to die
As they sink;
It really makes one almost cry
To see the pretty bubbles die.


Higher, higher! it is fine sport!
Pity that their time is short!
Little boys
Everywhere
Will leave toys,
For bubbles fair!
And will ever take delight
In floating bubbles gay and bright.


Higher, higher! red and blue!
Colors gay of every hue,
Floating light
Through the air,
Pretty sight
To make you stare!
Children love to pass the day
Blowing bubbles in this way.

























LOST TROTTY.

M AMMA, mamma! cried Tom Howard, "Trotty's lost, we
can't find her anywhere!"
Mrs. Howard started up, extremely alarmed, as you may sup-
pose, at this sudden and unwelcome piece of news about her little
Trotty, her youngest child, just four years old.
Don't be frightened, mother," said Mary, a wise little woman
of thirteen. "Trotty has not been lost more than a few minutes,
and I'm sure we shall soon find her-she cannot have wandered
very far; I know I shall bring her back, and off flew Mary; indeed,
mamma, nurse, and all the children were soon searching about the
garden for lost Trotty. She had wandered off, this little maid, just
as she rose from the nursery dinner-table, and without a word to
any one had trotted down-stairs into the hall. She first looked out
at the bright sunshine, at the gay flowers, through the open door,
and th'eL Trotty-although she knew in her own little mind that







52 DUKE AND THE DONKEY.

she was doing wrong, that she had no business to go out of the
nursery without leave, still less out of the house-went out actually
into the garden.
Once out in the garden, Trotty forgot everything but two
bright butterflies she saw there, and off she trotted after them; and
those butterflies led her a pretty dance, from flower to flower, and
then right across the lawn did they fly, as if to lead Trotty away
from home. Trotty would not give up the chase, and became every
moment more eager in it. At last the butterflies disappear over a
hedge that leads into a field. Trotty scrambles through after them,
and finds the field full of poppies and cornflowers. Her thoughts
are distracted from the butterflies by the lovely scarlet poppies, and
Trotty picks some, scattering the bright leaves over her, as, quite
tired with her run, she lies down on a bank and rests. Presently
she finds a little ladybird creeping on her small hand, and raising
her arm, she watches the tiny insect creeping from finger to finger.
Her studies in natural history are brought to a close by hearing
voices calling Trotty," in alarmed tones, and jumping up, little run-
away Trotty finds herself in the midst of her anxious family.


DUKE AND THE DONKEY.

"W HEN I was a little girl I had
S a donkey and a little donkey-
carriage of my own. The car-
riage was made of wicker-work,
white, picked out with blue, and
S.with pretty blue wheels. Jack,
,i my donkey, was well fed and
groomed, and had a handsome
set of harness with bells which jingled merrily as he trotted along.
He was the fleetest and the most gentle donkey in the world.'







DUKE AND THE DONKEY. 53

Now, my father had at this time a splendid dark-chestnut horse,
called Duke. This horse was everything that a horse ought to be
under the saddle, and was docile enough in the stable and to all the
people about the place; but he used to be very unkind to my dear
donkey Jack. The horse and donkey used to be turned out, some-
times, into a paddock at the back of our house, and the nursery
window overlooked the paddock; so I knew how badly poor Jack was
treated by the horse, for I often saw Duke kick his companion if he
came to graze near him.
One day I had walked to the village with my governess, and as
we returned over the fields we passed close by the paddock where
Duke and the donkey were turned out; so I stopped to pat them
and feed them with some clover I had picked. They both came to
the paling to meet me, but Duke pushed poor Jack out of the way
and gave him a sharp kick as well. Jack went quietly off to the
other end of the field, and my governess and I went round and
entered the house. When I was in the nursery I looked out of the
window, and there saw Duke rolling on his back thoroughly enjoy-
ing himself. I remember I thought what a great big creature he
looked. Presently, while I was watching him, I saw Jack, who had
been grazing at the other end of the field, gallop to the great big
horse, and, seizing him by the throat, hold him down. In vain Duke
kicked and struggled: for once the donkey had the advantage; and
if the coachman had not run out to the rescue of the horse he would
probably have been killed. You see Jack was not so good-natured
as we thought, but took his revenge when he could get it.



VAIN young person, who may you be,
Turning your head to look at me ?
I will give you a penny, or give you a bun;
But compliments from me, you will have none.










THE BOYS' RACE.

H AL," said Colonel Rivers
-- to his son, as they started
off for a delightful country
r- -. ride, one fine spring afternoon,
"- "I believe that pony of yours
could go at a good pace if she
"-- was put to it."
Hal looked up into his
"" ..... father's face with a pleased
"" .- -< /i- expression, for if there was a
thing the boy was proud of, it
was his pony. Yes, indeed, father," said he, "you shall see what
a pace she can go at presently, when we get to the common."
Dainty was a lovely chestnut pony, with all the good points
possible for a pony to possess. When the riders reached the com-
mon, Dainty was put to her full speed, and it was as much as
Colonel Rivers' horse could do to distance her. "Father," ex-
claimed Hal, if Dainty was in training, I'm sure she could beat
any pony I know; what fun it would be to get up some races, and
to enter Dainty and have a regular boys' race."
Colonel Rivers at first laughed at the idea, but somehow it
grew, till from an idea it became a reality, and the boys' race
came off.
On a glorious afternoon in early summer, when the air was soft
but the sun as yet not too hot, six boys with their ponies rode one
of the best races of the day. The race-course was a very good one,
where, every year, regular county races were held. On this partic-
ular day there were only gentlemen riders, for the idea of the boys'
race put it into the heads of older people to follow suit. So there












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56 WORK AND PLAY.

were four or five races got up by the gentlemen of the neighbor-
hood, and also a ladies' race, which made a great sensation. But it
is with the boys' race we have to do. Six boys started on six ponies
of about the same size as Dainty. There was Harold Rivers on
Dainty, Peter Wilkins on Billy Button (a gray pony), Jack Newton
on Flyaway, Edgar Ross on Lightfoot, Tom Andrew on Dumpling,
and Frank Drummond on Sultan. Dainty was second at first,
Frank Drummond leading, but Sultan was a bad-tempered pony,
and started out of the course, and so was soon far behind. Billy
Button then stole up, and took the lead for a time, Lightfoot being
second, and taking Dainty's place, but Hal Rivers kept his pony at
a steady pace till they were nearing the winning-post, when he sent
her on with a sudden spurt, and she passed the rest easily, winning
by a length.



WORK AND PLAY.

I THINK you would like me to tell
1' '. you about a little girl that I know
i very well. She is a very dear little
Girl, and her name is Lily. She is
1'y eight years old. Now one very
"wet day last autumn, her little
i.i. brother had gone out to spend the
A'. afternoon with another little boy,
and Lily was left to play by herself.
'' The rain beat against the window,
-.I and everything looked so dark and
S..'l dismal that Lily had to make up
her mind to play in-doors. And
what do you think this wise little














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Work and _Play.







58 DAISY AND DUMPLING.

girl did ? Why, she got her dolls, and setting one beside her, she took
the other in her lap, and calling dear old Buz, her own old shaggy
Scotch terrier, to her, she determined to give her children lessons,
and then taking a spelling-book, with a lesson in it that she was
anxious to learn herself for next day, she went over it with her little
family until she knew it perfectly.
I came into the room while she was busy repeating the lesson
over, and I thought I had never seen a prettier picture than the
child made with her dear old doggie. Buz was standing on his hind
legs with his paws resting on her knee, lookingup so wistfully in her
face, as much as to say, "Dear little mistress, I try to do my best,
but I can't quite understand you." So I said, "I think, Lily, that
Buz is much the best of the pupils; so let us put your two stupid
doll-children in the corner, and Buz and you and I will have a good
romp together."
So we put the dollies away, gave Buz a lump of sugar, and
then we had a good game. But I think it was very wise of the little
girl to hit upon this plan of work and play; though perhaps it was
a little hard upon dear old Buz. I am sure he forgave her if he felt
it so, and would willingly have stood on his hind legs much longer
if he thought that by doing so he could be of use to his dear little
mistress.

DAISY AND DUMPLING.

4 D AISY was a little calf; Dumpling
was a little foal; they were the
r funniest couple! the most wonderful
/'' fast friends possible. I remember
Si quite well, when I was a little girl,

room one morning, and, asking my
"- governess if I had been good and





























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60 DAISY AND DUMPLING.

diligent at my lessons, proposed that I should have a half-holiday,
and ride over to a farm-house some five or six miles off, to see a
colt which he was thinking of buying, to have broken in for my
mother's pony-carriage. I had been good, fortunately, and there-
fore I gained permission to have my ride, a treat that I enjoyed
more than I can tell you.
It was a lovely afternoon in August, the fullness of summer rest-
ing upon everything. It was cool enough for us to have one or two
good gallops when we found turf and level ground; and I was very
sorry when we reached the farm-house. We found it very pretty
and picturesque, with a kind farmer's wife, who brought me out a
glass of delicious new milk; and, dismounting, we followed her to a
large shed which acted as a loose box for Dumpling, the pony, and
as cow-house to one of the sweetest little calves I ever saw. The
curious thing was, that these two little animals stood quite close
together, Dumpling, resting his head on Daisy's short, thick neck;
and what made the picture prettier, when we looked into the shed,
was the sight of two sweet little kittens romping among the straw,
fearlessly, close to the two larger young things that occupied the
same shed.
My father found the pony such a mere foal that he allowed him
to remain at the farm-house for a few months longer, and during
that time the calf and he were inseparable companions. At last
little Dumpling arrived at his new home-we were all delighted to
welcome him; and my mother was very much pleased at the idea
of one day driving him in her pony-carriage. The little pony was
safely housed in a nice loose-box in our stables. In the middle of
the night, the coachman, who slept in a room above the stables, was
disturbed by a sound like a battering-ram being sent with great
violence against the stable-door; he ran down-stairs, and who
should he find noisily craving admittance but Miss Daisy, the calf,
who had followed her friend and companion to his new home.
After this proof of the calf's attachment to the pony, my father







THE COLOR LINE. 61

determined to buy her; and Daisy and Dumpling were often to be
seen side by side in a field together, when she was quite a big cow
and he getting an aged pony.





THE COLOR LINE.

i I DARESAY you, my little readers,
have often heard people say: "I must
draw the line somewhere." Different
people have different opinions as to
where the line should be drawn, and
some little friends of mine do not
seem to think the line should be drawn
anywhere. For instance, a certain
little boy I know had a horse-veloci-
pede given to him, and he rode it up and
down on the pavement in front of his
"house in New York. His mamma told
him not to be selfish about it, but to let
other little boys-meaning his friends-
have a ride if they wished. She was rather surprised one morning
to find the little crossing-sweeper riding on her small son's horse;
and she tried to explain to him that the line should be drawn some-
where. Let us see what the negro shoeblack has to say about it:


"You spec's I's gwine to shine dem shoes
For five cents ? No, Sir-ee,
De coolness of some culled folks
Am most too much fo' me!






62 ANNIE AND HER PET LAMB.

For any foot dat's reasonable
Five cents is all I ax;
But when de foot's onreas'nable
I has to 'crease de tax.

I call a foot onreas'nable
Dat's ober number nine;
I puts de price up after dat,
For putting' on de shine.

For ebery number ober dat,
A gemman has to pay
Two cents,-and number fo'teen shoes
Don't come 'long ebery day!

I thought as dat 'ud settle him;
He kicked against de figgers;
I'se got to draw de line.somewhar-
I draws de line at niggers / "


ANNIE AND HER PET LAMB.

P.. B, t EAUTIFUL May had come
: again the merry happy
month when the trees seem
every hour to grow greener,
the butterflies to come out
every minute, shining in
many colors, and the whole
world seems glowing with
,- blossoms. Who does not love
an early May morning-the












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64 ANNIE AND HER PET LAMB.

glorious skies, the soft sweet air, the sense of enjoyment about
everything! At all events little Annie knew how delightful it was,
for being a farmer's little daughter, she was not a lazy little lie-
a-bed, but was out in the fields betimes, I can tell you. See her with
her apron full of wild flowers! she is listening to the song of a lark
who has risen from his nest, and is pouring from his tiny throat his
wonderful thanksgiving hymn. You can see that little Annie is not
feared by the sheep, for she is standing quite near them, and they
do not think of moving. One lamb is coming to meet her,
and will presently push his impertinent young nose among the
flowers in Annie's apron; but this lamb is not quite the same as
the others; they are none of them so tame as Snowdrop. I will tell
you about him.
In the early spring, while the weather was yet cold and the days
rather short, Annie's father came home one morning from the fields
with one of his large pockets sticking out very much; from this
pocket came the sound of bleating, and presently Annie's father took
out of it a tiny baby lamb, so young and so weak that it appeared
as if it was dying.
Here, Annie," said her father, I've brought you a little play-
mate; he does not look much like it now, though, does he? But in
a little while he'll be as playful as a kitten, never fear;" then turn-
ing to Annie's mother he said: I had to take it from its mother's
side, for it is so delicate we must rear it in-doors." So Annie's
mother tended the little creature, and fed it with milk, and in a short
time it grew stronger. Annie had the charge of it, and considered it
her very own; it shared her bread and milk with her, and soon took
the lion's share. Then at last it grew so big, as well as playful,
that it could not be kept in the house, for it jumped about and
knocked over the chairs, and even upset Annie herself in its rough
play. So it is only out-of-doors that Annie can now take notice of
Snowdrop, as she named her little pet lamb.









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