• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Cat-tails
 Johnnie's bonfire
 The two pigs
 The little oriole thief
 Little Bettine: A swinging...
 The birthday boots
 At milking-time
 Painted apples
 The bumble bee
 Queen Bess
 The good-for-nothing
 Piggy at church
 The bobolink
 Every-day fairies
 Kitty's first school day
 The swallows
 Sprinkling the flowers
 How fruit is made
 The song of the spring rain
 Chippy Top-knot
 The first gallop on taffy
 Too many
 Billy's road
 Growing a name
 A May-day delusion
 A little winged jewel
 Losing an egg
 The wire house
 The great dragon-fly
 Katrina in the play
 Little Boy Blue
 How Wynan went deer-hunting
 My dandelion girl
 Captain Baby Belle
 Africa
 Driving the cows
 What was in Jennie's rubber
 Back Cover














Group Title: Children's hour series
Title: Holiday time
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00080712/00001
 Material Information
Title: Holiday time illustrated stories and poems for little people with original illustrations
Series Title: Children's hour series
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 27 cm.
Language: English
Creator: H.M. Caldwell Co ( Publisher )
Publisher: H.M. Caldwell Co.
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: c1891
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1891   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1891   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1891
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors.
Funding: Children's hour series (New York)
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00080712
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223796
notis - ALG4048
oclc - 189641410

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Frontispiece
        Page 1
    Title Page
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Cat-tails
        Page 4
    Johnnie's bonfire
        Page 5
        Page 6
    The two pigs
        Page 7
        Page 8
    The little oriole thief
        Page 9
    Little Bettine: A swinging song
        Page 10
        Page 11
    The birthday boots
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
    At milking-time
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
    Painted apples
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
    The bumble bee
        Page 21
    Queen Bess
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
    The good-for-nothing
        Page 25
        Page 26
    Piggy at church
        Page 27
        Page 28
    The bobolink
        Page 29
    Every-day fairies
        Page 30
    Kitty's first school day
        Page 31
        Page 32
    The swallows
        Page 33
    Sprinkling the flowers
        Page 34
        Page 35
    How fruit is made
        Page 36
        Page 37
    The song of the spring rain
        Page 38
    Chippy Top-knot
        Page 39
        Page 40
    The first gallop on taffy
        Page 41
        Page 42
    Too many
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
    Billy's road
        Page 46
        Page 47
    Growing a name
        Page 48
        Page 49
    A May-day delusion
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
    A little winged jewel
        Page 53
    Losing an egg
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
    The wire house
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
    The great dragon-fly
        Page 60
    Katrina in the play
        Page 61
    Little Boy Blue
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
    How Wynan went deer-hunting
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
    My dandelion girl
        Page 69
    Captain Baby Belle
        Page 70
        Page 71
    Africa
        Page 72
        Page 73
    Driving the cows
        Page 74
        Page 75
    What was in Jennie's rubber
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text










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HOLIDAY




ILLUSTRATED STORIES


FIME


AND POEMS


FOR


LITTLE


PEOPLE.


WITH ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS.









NVE W YORK:


H. M.


CALDWELL
PUBLISHERS.


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Copyright,

1882, 1883. 1884, 1885, 1886, 1887, i888, 1889, 890., 89i,

BY RUSSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY.







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CAT-TAILS.

'TWAS a group of merry children,
And, the marshes going by,
One boy shouted: "See the cat-tails!
See the cat-tails, nice and high!"

Then a wee tot, from the city,
'Said, with brimming eyes of blue:
"What a shame it was to drown them!
Did they drown the kittens too ?"
GEORGE E. COOPER.





























JOHNNIE'S BONFIRE.

GRANDMA was very sick, and mamma could not leave her for a
moment. Papa had gone a few miles away for a nurse, so there
was no one to get Johnnie and Eddie ready for Sunday school.
"Oh, dear," sighed Johnnie, I'm so tired keeping still! Let us
go down on the big rock, and read."
What do you want of matches if you are only going to read ? "
inquired Eddie, seeing -Johnnie reach up to the match-safe.
"Oh, there might be a total eclipse of the sun, you know; then
we should have to strike a light."
This seemed satisfactory to Eddie, and he put on his hat.
They went across the pasture, over an old bridge, to a grove,
and were at' the big rock. That rock had long been 9 tF~idy fa,
vorite.








JOHNNIE'S BONFIRE.


There was an opening in the rock, which was filled with dried
grass, dead leaves, and moss. It was just the place for a bonfire,
Johnnie thought, as he looked over his book. A small fire could
surely do no harm, and he and Eddie could warm their hands,
for the September air was chilly indeed. He sent Eddie to fetch
some dry sticks and bark from the woods near by, and soon a
bright blaze was leaping and dancing above the rocks. Johnnie
watched it' rather anxiously, and was glad enough to see it die
down at last, and soon go out, as he supposed.
He returned to the house, but he felt all the while as if some
dreadful thing was about to happen.
Pretty soon he saw the minister, who lived next door, running
across the lots with a pail in each hand. His father was just re-
turnjng home with the nurse for grandma. He dashed up to the
gate, and left both the nurse and old Kate in the road. Seizing
a pail he darted down the pasture. Johnnie thought of his bon-
fire in an instant. Sure enough it had started up again, and was
running as fast as it could towards the large wood-lot his father
prized so much.
That evening when the fire had been really put out, and noth-
ing serious had come of it, Johnnie told his papa how sorry he
was, and promised never to play with fire again.


LIZZIE MAY SHERWOOD.


































THE TWO PIGS.

A TRUE STORY.

WHEN Madge was seven years old and Edith five they wenc to the
country to spend the summer on their Grandpa Mason's farm. Hav-
ing lived in the city all their lives they were very happy to be able to
run in the fields, pick wild-flowers, and ride in the hay-cart. They
had such big appetites that grandma declared they would eat her out
of house and home.
But they were very good little girls, and tried so hard not to give
their grandma any trouble that one day Grandpa Mason made each
of them a present of a little white pig.
The little girls had never before had any pets, and they became







THE TWO PIGS.


very fond of the pigs. One was named Snowball and the other
Frisky, and they soon learned to come when the children called them.
They were good little pigs, and very tame, and did not make a fuss
when they were washed. They had to be washed very often, for they
were fond of lying in mud-puddles, and playing in the farm-yard
with their dirty little brothers, and they didn't mind being scolded.
But the little girls loved them, dirty or clean, and were sorry to
leave them in September, when they went back to the city. They
did not forget them, and when summer came again, and they went to
the farm in June, they asked for: Frisky and Snowball before they
had even taken off their hats.
"They're alive, and will be glad to see you, I haven't a doubt,"
said grandpa. "Come out to the
barn."
"'The darling little things !"
said Madge. "I wonder if they
will know us."
















"But it was the little girls who didn't know the pigs, for Snowball
and Frisky had grown into big hogs, and grandpa had them in a pen,
fattening them to kill in the fall.
How he did laugh when he saw how surprised and sorry Madge






THE LITTLE ORIOLE THIEF.


and Edith were! But after a while he took them into the loft of the
barn, and showed them two flying-squirrels in a tin cage.
"Here are some new pets," he said; "you will like these as wel
as the pigs."
But it was a long time before the little girls ceased to mourn ove
the loss of Frisky and Snowball.
MRS. F. B. GETCHELL.








THE LITTLE ORIOLE THIEF.

MADAME' SHEPLEY sat at
her window, knitting a very
pretty blue-silk sock for her
little grand-daughter Mar.
garet. Somebody called
her away for a moment,
when a saucy little oriole,
called "Baltimore," flew up
to her basket upon the win.
dow-sill. The bird had just
nested, and helped herself
to a skein of the silk which
she was about to join on
to her work. She quickly
made off with it to her un-
finished nest in the apple.
tree near by.
But the silk would noo
do as the oriole wanted at
all. It would get caught in







LITTLE BE TTINE: A S WINGING SONG.


the branches, and in spite of
all the bird's efforts got ter-
ribly tangled. She tugged
and tugged, but to no pur-
pose. At last she had to
content herself with a few
loose threads, leaving a
good many strings, here
and there, fluttering in the
wind.
These strings made her
very angry; for weeks after,
as she passed to and fro,
she always stopped, and
gave the threads a spiteful
jerk, as much as to say, 0, you hateful
yarn! you've given me heaps of trouble.
I wish I'd never stolen you. I'd be better
off, I know."
MRS. G. HALL.



LITTLE BETTINE: A SWINGING SONG.

SwINGING, swinging, little Bettine,
Prettiest lassie that ever was seen;
Swinging, swinging,
Up where the long, lithe branches blow,.
Down where the white, swaying lilies grow;
Swinging, swinging, little Bettine,
Under the larches cool and green.

Swinging, swinging, little Bettine,
Blossom-crowned, like a summer queen;
Swinging, swinging,









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Up where the robin hides his nest,
Down where the brown bee keeps her quest;
Swinging, swinging, little Bettine,
Under the larches cool and green.
EMMA C. DOWD


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THE BIRTHDAY BOOTS.

IT was almost Jo-Jo's birthday
He was neither very old nor very big, but more than anything
in the world he wanted a pair of boots.


His brother Hal was
was a shame for Jo-Jo
to wear knee-pants and
shoes when he so much
wished to be a young
man.
So it was planned in
secret that on his birth-
day Jo-Jo should have
his first pair of boots.
They were bought.
It seemed as if you
could fairly see the
noise in them they
were so stout in the4
sole, and so heavy and
sturdy in the uppers.
"I think you will
have to put a weather-
strip round the edges,"
said Hal to his mother
the night before, when
they were looking them
over, and saying what
a big boy Jo-Jo had
grown ,to be; there'll
be no living in the
house with him for the
racket."


grown up and in college, and he said it


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THE BIRTHDAY BOOTS.

His mother smiled.
"I think we'll set them outside his door and
let him find them first thing in the morning,"
said she.
"Just let me put a motto on the bottom of
one," cried Hal; "it will be a good way to
convey a moral."
It was a fine surface to write on, the smooth,
polished leather, and Hal printed with ink, in
good, plain letters upon one, -


THE MOR
and

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think of Jo-Jo's


running


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HASTE THE LESS SPEED;"
ipon the other,
SEVEN LEAGUES TO THE STEP."
He looked his work over
with pride, and laughed to


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THE BIRTHDAY BOOTS.


about with letters always under his feet,- when he did so hate to
read.
First thing upon coming out of his room in the morning, Jo-Jo
found the boots. He was too delighted to think of stopping up-
stairs to put them on, but ran down into the general sitting-room,
-where the family were waiting for breakfast.
His face was covered with smiles, and he swung the boots round
,his head at the risk of breaking every trinket in the room.
"Hi-oh !" he cried; boots boots!"
"Try them on," said his mother, "and see if they are as nice
as you think."
Jo-Jo burst half-a-dozen buttons off his shoes in his haste .to make
the change. He put his foot eagerly in at the top, and pressed it
down to the ankle, but it would go no further.
He tugged and pulled, got red in the face, and finally lost his tem-
per.
Hal came forward to see. The boots were, indeed, altogether too
small. The shoe man had evidently given the wrong number.
"I can change them for a larger size," said Jo-Jo, unwilling to giva
them up.
Just then he caught sight of Hal's writing.
"Who did it ?" he cried.
Hal owned he did it as a sort of joke.
Then Jo-Jo, who had been on the verge of crying, laughed aloud.
"I think the joke is on you this time, Mister Hal," he shouted.
And it was. The ink had soaked into the leather, so that the
boots were too soiled to return.
"I'll have them to pay for, sure enough," said Hal, willing to turn
Jo-Jo's attention in any way from his disappointment.
This pair having failed, they persuaded Jo-Jo to wait one more
year, when he should choose his own boots, and have them fitted
before they were taken home.
C. D. B.








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AT MILKING-TIME.


WHITEFOOT, Lightfoot,
Set back your right foot,
Chewing, and waiting the maid with the pail,
Horns in the sunshine,
Hoofs in the clover,
Gentle cow, stand and be milked by the rail.
Fairy. Carrie
And little boy Harry
Have come to the meadow along with me.
"Whip-poor-Will! Poor Will!"
Hear a complaining
Out of the iusk gathered ander the tree.
Closing, dozing,
Field flowers reposing
F Ade as the sun goes to far-away land~ ;
Strawberries scarlet
Mix with green grasses,
Hide more and more from the search of
small hands.


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AT MILKTNG-TIME.


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AT MILKING-TIME.


Glancing, dancing,
Fire-flies romancing,
Light, tiny lamps in the dewy-damp vines;
Frogs are a-crooning;
Forth hops a rabbit;
High flies the night-hawk that peeps while he dines

Whitefoot, Lightfoot,
Have now your right foot,
Full to the brim is my pail with white foam;
Looks the round moon so,
Over the hill yonder,-
Guess there, too, a milkmaid's on her way home.

Fairy Carrie
And little man Harry
Skip from the, field, but look back through the bars
Sings lone whippoorwill;
Folds her limbs Whitefoot;'
Shine in the pasture-brook two early stars.


LAVINIA S. GOODWIN






































PAINTED APPLES.

TED made a surprise for his Aunt Winnie's birthday. It was a
grand surprise, but it took a long time to make it. Aunt Winnie's
birthday was the last of August, and Ted began making the surprise
early in July.






PAINTED APPLES.


Ted thought he never could wait so long. I am .sure he could not
if his mamma had not known it, too. He had her to talk it over with.
They often went to look at it, and see how it was getting along.


You could never guess what -the surprise was, so I must tell you.
It was an apple. Just an apple is not much, you think. But let me
tell you the rest. This was a large red apple, and on one side was a
large white W; the first letter of Aunt Winnie's name.







PAINTED APPLES.


This is the way Ted made the surprise apple. Before the fruit
began to turn red his mamma cut a nice, large W out of paper and
pasted it on the apple for him. She left it hanging on the tree. It
grew large and red, but where the paper letter was the skin stayed
white. When the apple was ripe Ted pulled it. He washed the
paper letter off, and there was a lovely W on the apple. His mamma
laid it away until Aunt Winnie's birthday. At last the day came.
After breakfast Ted brought in his surprise. His mother had taught
him a pretty little speech to make, but he was in such a hurry he
forgot almost all of it.
This is what he said: "Auntie, I wish you many happy 'turns, an'
isn't this nice ? It's a s'prise."
Aunt Winnie thought the apple very nice. She hiad never seen
one like it before.
Dear me! she said. "Do your trees grow apples with letters
on them ? Oh, no, it surely did not come there all by itself. I guess
you must have helped it grow there."
Then Ted told her how they had made the letter grow there.
It is too pretty an apple to eat," said Aunt Winnie. "I must
keep it a long time." She took one of her paint-brushes and gave
the apple two coats of varnish.
"The varnish will keep the apple from decaying," she explained to
Ted.
When it was dry she tied a long, narrow blue ribbon to the stem
of the apple, and hung it up on the chandelier. Every one who
came in said, How pretty !" then when they saw the letter they
said. "How queer !" Aunt Winnie would explain to them how the
letter came there.
DEBORAH WILSON.



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LI.


THIS busy fellow goes humming from flower to flower,
poking his head into one, and then into another, and some-
times the flower is so large that it hides him all out of sight!
He stops his buzzing while he is getting his meal. Some
flowers are so small that he can't get his head in at all to reach
the honey, but he won't give it up. So he pushes and pushes
until he splits it quite open. I am sorry to say that the bum-
ble-bee spoils a great many flowers in this way.
Sometimes he gets the honey from the outside, just at the bottom
of the cup of the flower. It is a very fuany sight to see two bumble-
bees on one stalk, one visiting the inside of all of them, while the
other takes the outside.
Another curious thing, too, is, that if they begin with a certain kind
of flower they will go to no other for their honey on that trip out.
If they start again they may try something else.







QUEEN BESS.


The bumble-bee does not make the same pretty comb, nur the good
honey that the honey-bee does, who always gathers as much as he
can carry to use in the hive.
You have eaten their beautiful white comb, which is often made of
the little white clover you tread under foot in your summer walks.
Even the honey-bee can make better honey from some flowers than
others; but it is all good enough, we think.
MRS. @. HALL.











QUEEN BESS.

SHE'S a beauty, so she is,--
'Tis a fact no one denies,---
With her rosy-red cheeks,
And her beaming hazel eyes.
She is pretty and she's sweet,
From her dainty, dancing feet
To the curl on her forehead that lies

She's a little elfin queen;
She's a charming princess,
In a blue-ribboned cap
And a Mother Hubbard dress.
When I met her in the lane,
And begged to know her name
She said her father called her Queen Bess.







Q UEEN BESS.


"Of what country, then?" said I,
Expecting on my part,
From the moss at her feet,
To see fairy people start.
But she lifted her sweet eyes,
And said, with grave surprise,
"I'm the Queen of my papa's heart."


NELLIE M. GARABRAN.-
























THE GOOD-FOR-NOTHING.

THERE was once a lad who really hated
Whatever he had to do,
So, idle-hearted, away he started
To roam the wide world through.
With hands in his pockets, whistle, whistle,
He strolled through field and town,
And was sometimes fed on good white bread
And sometimes fed on brown.

The wood-thrush when she saw him coming
Straightway became distressed,
Fearing that he in the white-thorn tree
Would find her hidden nest.
The little red squirrel whisked and scampered
Up in the topmost limb;
And the crow when he saw called out, "Caw! oew I
I'll keep my eye on him I"


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THE GOOD-FOR--NOTHING.

The bees worked blithely about the clover;
And on their way to school
Went children, singing, and gaily bringing
Of flowers their hands full.
Creatures active, busy, and happy
He saw at every hand;
And he was the only idle and lonely
One in all the land.

He mused: "Why should the thrush and squirrel
Dread even a sight of me?
And why does the crow gaze at me so
From the top of his high tree ?
Though of work I tired, and it was hateful,
Yet this is quite as bad;
For no one cares where goes, how fares,
A good-for-nothing lad!"
MRS. CLARA DOTY BATBH


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PIGGY AT CHURCH.


ARLIE FOSTER is a country boy, who has a great many pets. Early
one morning in spring Arlie's papa
brought in a tiny pink pig, nearly
chilled and starved to death. "Arlie,
this little fellow is yours, if you can
raise him," said Mr. Foster.
Arlie wrapped piggy in soft wool,
fed him with warm milk from a bot-
tie, and laid him near the. stove.
Piggy grew fast. Arlie fed him with
clean food, and kept him clean by ,
scrubbing him with soap and a brush.
He looked very different from the I'
common pigs.
He trotted after Arlie, and wanted
to be in the house. He had to be
kept in the orchard, where he could
have all the apples he wanted to
eat. Arlie could go there to play
with Piggy.
One Sunday morning Arlie's mam-
ma dressed him in a new brown
linen suit. He ran into the garden
to get a few flowers for an old friend
of mamma's. He forgot to close the
gate between the orchard and garden when he came out. Arlie
walked to church with papa and mamma. When all was very
still, save the sound of the minister's voice, Arlie heard the
pattering of little hoofs up the bare aisle. Piggy appeared, with
his familiar grunt. Worst of. all he went nosing about until he
found Arlie. Then he contentedly nestled at his feet, giving
piggish squeaks of delight because he had found his master.
Poor Arlie was ashamed. His face grew red and all the little






PIGGY AT CHURCH.


boys laughed. Mamma told him to take Piggy home. Arlie
thought everybody was looking at him, but Piggy followed quietly.










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When they reached home Arlie lay down upon the grass under the
shade of a tree and cried, not minding Piggy's coaxing to have his
back scratched.
After a while he dried his eyes and said, "Piggy, it wasn't your
fault that you didn't know pigs don't go to church or stay in
houses. I didn't think about latching the gate. I didn't like you
one bit when you made me feel so ashamed, but I don't feel that
way now. You'll never get out again, for I'll see after the gate."
ELLA GUERNSEY.


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THE BOBOLINK.


THERE is no bird that enjoys more than the
bobolink, his song is so sweet and so lively. It
is a real rollicking, dancing tune. He begins a
song on a tree, and then flies, singing, as if he
said Oh, be joyful!" to everybody, until he
drops down into his nest in the grass, or lights
on some tall reed near it.
And how nicely he dresses too! -just
like an old lady, in black satin and white
cap, with nice-fitting kid gloves.
You must not go too near the bobo-
link's nest. He does not like to
have it known where it is, and
will never tell you the secret hid-
ing-place by going to it when
you are near. Mr. Bobolink
sings to himself, no doubt,
all the while : -
"Nobody knows but my wife
and I
Where our nest and nest-
lings lie !-
Chee, chee, chee!"
How plain Mrs. Bobo-
link is in her drab-col-
ored dress, while he is
dressed up so
fine, and
how silent!
But he is
merry
enough for
two, as if his heart was too full of joy to hold it.


~~\ d

-air,
4<
C7
`a -**


MRS HALL.



















EVERY-DAY FAIRIES.


I PLANTED in my garden a tender little flower
So frail that you would wonder if its life could last an hour,
But while I watched and waited, in hope and then in fear,
It lifted up its pretty head, for welcome help was near.
A million little fairies came gliding from the sky,
And hovered gently over it as hours hurried by;
They brought a million diamonds and flung them, in a shower
Of fullest, sweet refreshing, on my drooping little flower.
And wlien their cares were ended, behold! --a million more,
As loving and as sprightly as those which came before.
They carried spells of magic, for every 'tiny hand
Was shedding forth the lustre of a shining golden wand.
Who knew what next was needed ? another host began
Its little share of duty they carried each a fan.
Caressingly and lightly they waved them to and fro
?ill all the air was whispering with zephyrs soft and low.
They call it rain, and sunshine, and gentle winds that blow,-
Such names are well enough for common uses; but I know
They are millions upon millions of willing little fays
That dear old Mother Nature sends to bless the summer days.
SYDNEY DAYRE.










KITTY'S FIRST SCHOOL DAY.

LITTLE Kitty Clover started up
in bed just as the sun came peep-
ing in the window. A very sweet
little Kitty she was, with her blue
eyes and her dimples, for the
angel had kissed Kitty Clover
three times.
The old clock on the stairs was
ticking away for dear life. But
to-day it was not saying tic, tic, .
tic; no, indeed, the old clock
had a new tune this morning:
"Kitty is five years old! Kitty
is going to school over and .
over again.
The little girl jumped out of bed and had her shoes- and stockings
on before Aunt Dinah came in. "Laws-a-mercy !" said Aunt Dinah;
"but my chile is a smart chile. If she larn to read fast as she put on
dem shoes and stockins she'll make smart work in de school-room."
I guess I will, aunty," said Kitty, for I intend to try."
Kitty's mamma had a pretty satchel all ready, and Kitty placed
her brand-new primer in it, and off she started, out the back gate and
down the lane. As she passed the barn-yard she heard the hens
cackling, loudly, "Kitty is going to school! Kitty is going to school!"
Down at the end of the lane was a large bush of hawthorn.
A little bird sat on one of the boughs, singing sweetly, "Good-morn-
ing, Kitty! Are you the little girl that is going to school ?"
A squirrel ran along the fence and perched himself on one of the
posts.
Oh! what a little girl this, is to be going to school," he chirruped.
The teacher was very much pleased to see Kitty Clover, and she
asked one of the larger girls if Kitty were coming all the time.






KITTY'S FIRST SCHOOL DAY.


"No'm; just till she gets tired."
"Does peoples ever get tired coming to school ?" asked Kitty; and
they all laughed.
She said a long lesson in her primer, read the line of "two
times two," and did a "sum." But she could not help thinking
of the squirrel and the bird, the chickens and the old clock on the
stair.
By and by she rose very quietly and took up her hat and her
satchel; she walked up to the teacher, and said in a pitched little
voice, "Good-evening, Miss Mary! I guess I have to go home now."






THE SWALLOWS.

The scholars all laughed again, and one girl called out over her
geography:-
Does peoples ever get tired coming to school?"
But she was a very bad girl, and so Kitty Clover didn't mind her.
LOUISE R. BAKER.


I -


THE SWALLOWS.

LITTLE Teddy above the lake
Saw the swallows skimming,
Their white breasts beaming, glancing and gleaming,
And while he was watching their fly-catching,
He cried, Oh, see Oh, see the birds,-
The little birds in swimming!"
C. D. B.










SPRINKLING THE FLOWERS.

MAMMA," said Har-
Srry, may I water your
flowers this evening
when you are gone
away ?"
"Yes," said his
mother, "if you
will be very careful
not to step on the
beds."
"I will," said Harry.
"Be sure you give
them plenty, dear, for
the ground is very dry.
Do it at seven o'clock."
Mamma went away,
and Harry wished the
afternoon would be gone,
for he was very anxious
to water the flowers. He
thought it very nice to hold
the little red sprinkler and
watch the fine spray as it
went down upon mamma's
pretty garden pets.
He always noticed that
their little laces of blue and pink and purple and white seemed
:brighter after it; and sometimes fancied they smiled up at him
as if they wanted to say thank you.
As it grew later the sky became dark and looked like rain.
Harry looked up at the clouds, and hoped it would not rain
before seven o'clock.






SPRINKLING THE FLOWERS.


But it was sprinkling when he filled his watering-pot at the
fountain and began his work. He hurried with all his might,
hoping to finish before it rained hard.
But before he was half done big drops came down. Then
the girl came to the door and called:--
"Master Harry, come in out of the rain this minute!"
0 Sarah," he said, "do get me an umbrella and let me
water the flowers."
But she only laughed, and he went in with a very woe-begone
face and was put to bed. He soon forgot his trouble in a nap
which lasted till morning. Then he ran to mamma's room.
0 mamma," he said, "I didn't get all the flowers watered.
It rained, and Sarah made me come in."
"Why, dear," she said, laughing, "there was no need of
watering when it rained."
"Dear me! I never thought of that," said Harry.
He looked out of the window and saw the raindrops shining
like diamonds in the sunshine. Every tree and bush and flower
looked bright and fresh and sweet.
"Mamma," he said, "do you think God has a great big
sprinkler to water with?"
No, I think not," said his mother.'
"Anyway, I think he sprinkles better than I can," said Harry,
"Yes, I think so, too," said his mother.
SYDNEY DAYRE.





01-07



















15- HOW FRUIT IS MADE.
4i WHEN a flower wilts and drops
there is always something left on
the end of the stem. This something holds the seeds, and is called
the "seed-holder." If you look at- a rose-bush when the leaves
are all gone you will find a thick, round knob, which grows larger
and .larger, and after a while changes from green to red. If you
should break it open you would find it full of seeds. Now, this is
not fruit. You could not eat it, for it would not taste good at all.
But if you should look at the place where the pear-blossom has
fallen, though it looks very much like the rose at the end of the
stem, you would find that the seeds, were a very small part of that,
though it has a great many, and the holder" grows much faster
too, because it is made to be eaten.
So with the berries we like so much. When the flowers drop
a small, round part is left, that grows and ripens, changing to dark
blue or red as it does so. The strawberries have their seeds upon
the outside, which adds very much to their beauty.
Some "seed-holders" are very large, like the squash or water-
melon, and have hundreds of seeds. These are made to be eaten, or
they would not have such large holders.
How different the fruit is from the flower f- and yet they are both
made from the very same thing,--the wonderful sap, that comes ur
from the ground into all the stems and branches of the shrub and treb


MRS. G. HALL.





















THE SONG OF THE SPRING RAIN.

HERE I come! Here I come! And the grasses peep;
The little white daisies, too, wake from their sleep;

The soft pussy-willows, in velvet and fur,
By the brook-side are nodding and making a stir;

And the meadow-lark is singing a song full of cheer,
For his happiest time is the spring of the year.

He sings of the beautiful things we shall see:
Of bees, and of birds, and of blossoms to be;

Of nests in the meadows, of fruits by and by,
And long sunny days that so surely are nigh.

The crocus her sweetness begins to unfold;
The daffodil raises her banner of gold,

And the clovers are hasting to join the glad throng,
And keep to the tune of my pit-a-pat song.
ELIZABETH A. DAVIS











CHIPPY TOP-KNOT.


S. BIDDY TOP-KNOT had twelve fluffy, downy, little chicks.
Each one of the twelve had yellow feet and yellow bills,
and each one looked so much like the other eleven that
you could not tell one from the other.
Mother Biddy knew them apart. She took great care of them.
In the daytime she scratched and found food for them, and at night
gathered them under her wing. Biddy's chicks were very good, and
only one gave her any trouble. This little
chick's name was Chippy.
Chippy did not mean to
mak e his mamma un-
happy, but he did like
to have his own
way. When
Biddy took
h e r brood
under th e
fence ,a nd
into t h e,
road to hunt for
bu s Chippy
was al- ways sure
to stray from the
others. They all
liked to run off
and scratch in the dirt;,
but when their moth;
er called Cluck! cluck
cluck! very fast how
they would scamper, all but Chippy! Hie was never in a hurry. In
vain Biddy scolded him. She told him that hawks were fond of
chickens, and were always ready to pounce upon stray ones; the
safe place was near his mother; still he did not heed her.






CHIPPY TOP-KNOT.


-One fine day Mrs. Biddy took her chickens down by the brook.
There were large stones in it, so
they easily crossed to the other
side. Then she led them along
the bank until they came to a
large field, into which Biddy
walked with them to hunt for
.... grasshoppers. But Chippy did
not follow. He liked better to
walk in the soft, warm sand by
the brook.


"I don't see what mother is in
such a hurry for; I'll just stay here
and play a little," said he. I do
like to make tracks in the soft
sand. I don't care much for grass-
hoppers. I'm not afraid of hawks.
They could not catch me."
Chippy ran up and down by the
side of the brook and never once







THE FIRST GALLOP ON TAFFY.


thought how far behind his mamma was leaving him. A hawk
pounced upon him, and would have carried him away to her nest in
the old oak tree had she not been frightened. By some chance
Chippy slipped from her claws and fell at the feet of little four-year-
old Hetty Sexton, who was picking daisies ir the field. Very gently
she lifted Chippy, who was both humbled and lamed. She carried
him in her apron to show her mamma, The dear, little, broken-
winged angel chickie, that fell from the sky."
In his new home Chippy was so kindly cared for that he was soon
able to run about and scratch with the other chicks. But he could
never fly, for the broken wing was not strong. Chippy, though he
never saw his mother again, did not forget the lesson he learned by
his disobedience.
SE. A. P.







THE FIRST GALLOP ON TAFFY.

BERTIE OWEN was the son of an English squire. When he was
twelve years old a lovely little Welch pony appeared suddenly in
his father's stable. On a label round its neck was written, "I am
for Bertie."
Bertie did not stay to ask any questions, but on with a saddle and
bridle and off to the Common, all purple with heather, to try his new
pony's paces. So fast did she gallop and so happy was her young
master that on he- rode, mile after mile, forgetting everything but
that the pony was his own, and he could do what he liked with her.
At last Taffy that was the pony's name thought she had
had enough. Watching her chance, she twisted suddenly and vio-
lently on one side, as Bertie was rising to jump a small ditch. Off
came the young gentleman before he had time to recover himself.
Then wicked Taffy, with a parting flourish of her heels, scampered






THE FIRST GALLOP ON TAFFY.

away m the direction of home. Bertie picked himself up, feeling
very small, and made his way on foot to a tiny village close by.
As he passed the post-office a good thought came into his head.
He knew that his mamma was not strong and must not be frightened.



















What would happen if she saw naugh-
ty Taffy galloping back with an empty
saddle!
So he went in and sent off a tele-
gram to his father to say that he was
all right and would be home soon.
Whilst Taffy was galloping along
the hard road this message had flashed
along the telegraph wires and had got
there first. Mamma was not a bit frightened therefore when the
pony, with empty saddle and streaming reins, galloped wildly up the
avenue. She nearly knocked over the little telegraph boy, who
had just delivered his message.
MRS. A M. GOODHART.































E wanted something for a .pet;
Dick brought a kitten home to me,-
Snow-white, a prettier little thing
I thought there could not be.
I fed it on the very best, -
Sweet yellow cream, and chicken breast;
New ribbons round its neck I tied,
And showed it to my guests with pride;
To meet them in the parlor kept,
She on a satin cushion slept.
We fondled her the long day through,
And waited on her slightest mew;
"And then," said Dick, "we may have rats,
And very useful things are cats."






TOO MANY.


My dearest friend sailed o'er the sea,
And, parting, wrote, Till I come back,
Say, will you kindly keep for me
My petted kitten, 'Jetty Black'?"
I gave her what was good to eat,-
A dish of milk, a plate of meat;
And, in my sitting-room, I spread
A bit of carpet for her bed;
But in my pretty parlor, "No;
I could not have two kittens go."
The other one soon found her out;
They both went frisking all about;
They tore the tidies from the chairs;
We stumbled o'er them down the stairs.
"Suppose," said Dick, "we should have

We. shall not really need two cats."

My nearest neighbor moved away;
Her yellow kitten stayed behind.
He came into my house, next day,
And seemed to ask a home to find.
A hungry creature must be fed, -
I gave to him a piece of bread;
I could not drive him quite
away,
I let him in the kitchen stay;
"But in the other room, dear me!
So many kittens must -not be."
The other two soon found him out;
The three went frolicking about;
The black one stole the white one's milk;






TOO MANY.


The white one tangled up my silk;
The yellow tipped the inkstand down,
And spilt it on my Sunday gown.
"We really need," said Dick, "some rats,
To occupy so many catsl"

"Mew I mew "- a sound outside the door.
Half-starved, and as a shadow thin,
Its gray fur dripping with the rain,
A kitten wanted to come in.
Unless a heart of stone had I,
How could I turn it out to die?
And yet to feed it on, alone,
I found a single well-gnawed bone.
In a dark corner of the shed
Some straw, where he could sleep, I spread;
"But in the house itself, 0 me!
I would not have four kittens go !"
The other three soon found him out;
They all went wandering about:
The shed cat in the parlor slept;
The white cat in the coal-bin crept;
The yellow kitten scratched and bit;
The black one had a frightful fit.
"Oh, give me peace! Oh, give me rats,
And let me rest," said Dick, from cats!"






















"BILLY'S ROAD."


BILLY was not a boy, but a pet goat, with a thousand cunning
ways. He followed the Laytor children everywhere, even to school.
When the scholars were called in he would lie down in the sun, or
crop the grass that grew in the yard. At the noon recess he came
to the children for his dinner. As he made no trouble, and was
very obedient, the teacher did not object to his coming.
The road to school lay across a rickety. old bridge, that spanned
a narrow, rushing creek. One morning when they came to this
stream they found the old bridge torn up and some men working
at a new one. One of the new sleepers was already down. As
it made a very safe foot-bridge they started to walk across it,
thinking, of course, that Billy would follow them.
Before they were half way across they heard Billy's piteous
bleat behind them. There he stood, his fore feet on the sleeper,
while he looked doubtingly down at the swiftly rushing water.
He did not fear to walk the sleeper, for goats are very sure-footed
animals; but he did fear very much the noisy waters below.
When the children reached the ground they called him anxiously
but he still kept up his pitiful baa-a and his steady gaze at the
water. Mamie took from her lunch-basket the tidbits of which







"BILLY'S ROAD."


Billy was fond; but all in vain. He stood still and kept up his
mournful bleating.
Then one of the men proposed to throw him in the water,
laughing at the children's screams, and declaring a cold bath
would be good for him." But Clinton came dashing across the
sleeper, and, taking Billy by the collar, pushed him back on the
ground; then calling, Come, Billy, he was off on a swift run
through the bushes.


P (i~a


S"I declare," said the man, if that boy isn't making a path
for the goat through the grubs, clear round the creek."
Mamie went on alone, and when she was more than half-
way to school Clinton came through the oak bushes out upon
the road, with Billy at his heels.
The new sleepers were put down, but the bridge was left
unfinished all summer. Clinton and Billy soon had quite a
road trodden around the creek, for the naughty goat would not
go- alone. Teams passing this way also took this new path,
and people called it "Billy's road."
MRS. CLARA J. DENTON.






















LITTLE Luke Hays came bome from school one day very proud
of the fact that he could write his name. He
brought his slate to show his mother what
round, clear letters he could make.
"Would you like to make your name
grow, Luke?" asked his mother.
"I don't know how it could," said Luke.
" I never saw a name grow."
Then his mother took him out in the
garden, where a new, fresh bed of black,
rich earth had been made. She gave
him a stick with a sharp point
and told him to write his
name in large letters in
the middle of the bed.
Luke did so, and
then his mother sowed
mignonette seed all
along the letters.







GRO WING A NAME.


Now," said she, "in a few weeks you will see your name growing
tall and sweet."
Luke went away the next day to visit his grandmother, and when
he came home again, three weeks later, he ran at once to the garden


to see if his name had grown. And there it was, "Luke Hays," in
pretty green letters, just as he had written it.
Luke was so pleased with it that after that he sowed his name
every spring in a differ nt seed.


FLORENCE B. HALLOWELL.










A~.1


A MAY-DAY DELUSION.

ONE winter night, when trees were bare,
And falling snow-flakes filled the air,

Our children asked us if we knew
Some pleasant thing for them to do.

The rattle-brain of all the fold
Was Dick, a sturdy four-year-old.

t Do sumfin," said Dick,
"That will make a noise;
For I'm drefful sick
Of my wooden toys."

The sticks upon the hearth had burned
Till they to glowing coals had turned.

"Be careful now and shake it well;
Give every grain a chance to swell."

A moment more, with snap and bang,
From popping corn, the fireside rang.



















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A MAY-DAY DELUSION.


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A MAY-DAY DELUSION.

Dick said it was fun
To hear the corn snap:
'Twas loud as a gun,
Or percussum-cap.

A May-day. morning, bright and fair,
And sweetest odors fill the air.

Buds, changed to blooms in one short night,
Had robed the apple-trees in white.

Dick stood amazed
At this strange sight,
And upward gazed
With wild delight;

Then said, "As sure as I was born,
These trees is covered with popped corn."

We smile at fancies such as these,
And yet these sweet delusions please,

Though we have learned that blossoms fall,
And ofttimes yield no fruit at all.
EGBERT L. BANG&


~-F~J~P























"A LITTLE WINGED JEWEL."

WHAT a bit of a bird! you say. And so it is, the smallest bird God
ever made, and very beautiful, too! You never see the humming-
bird sitting upon a branch like other birds. He is always on the
wing, when not on his nest. His wings are never still, but always
quivering, and when he puts his long bill into a flower to get his
food he poises himself in the air so gracefully, upheld by these tiny
fluttering wings. How quickly he goes from flower to flower, sud-
denly darting, instead of flying!
The nest of the humming-bird is a very wonderful piece of work, of
a cup shape, and the smallest ever made by a bird, softly lined inside
with down and spiders' webs, and so neatly done. The outside is gen-
erally covered with pretty moss, gathered from the trees or fences,
and so nearly the 'color of the bark that one must look very sharply
to find it. He is a dainty builder, and must have a dainty house.
The humming-bird has more variety of color than any other bird
that lives, and upon his breast the feathers are beautifully shaded.
Even the "bird of paradise" cannot rival this charming little
creature.
IMRS G. HALL.


i~pl~~









LOSING AN EGG.


HARRY and Lewie had leave to harness old Charley one bright
spring day, and drive off by themselves to hunt birds' eggs for their
collection and have a good time generally.
The two cousins were very proud of their collection; they had
already learned to know the nests and the habits of most birds of
their part of the country.


They had a rule between them never to take an egg without leav-
ing others in the nest'; so that parent birds did not often know that
they had been robbed.









LOSING AN EGG.


The boys kept their eyes open as they drove along, and by and by


Harry espied a crow's nest, up a tall pine tree.


It was not a very


easy tree to climb; but the nest was a great temptation, and so up
Lewie went.
Hollo, Hal!" he called down; birds all hbtched but one!"







LOSING AN EGG.


"Well, that egg wouldn't hatch then, most likely; fetch it down !
Down came Lewie with the egg, which was then carefully placed
in a fold of the buffalo-robe for safety.
The boys had not needed the robe, for the sun was quite hot; but
it was to serve a purpose now.
They drove on, enjoying themselves as boys know how to do, when
after some time Lewie exclaimed, "Hark! what's that?"
I'm sure I don't know! answered Harry, much surprised, as he
heard a feeble sound at their feet.
They unfolded the robe, and, behold, they had lost their egg The
heat of the sun on the warm robe had finished the hatching, and
there they had a forlorn little crow. How he did cry!
What shall we do with it ?" asked Harry, when they had done
laughing, for this was a funny way to lose an egg.
"Let's raise it, and have it for a pet !" cried Lewie. Frank Burr
had a tame crow, and it was the funniest thing !"
"All right!" and the boys drove home with their foundling.
They made the poor thing a warm nest, and then set about feeding
it.
"It ought to have worms to eat, I suppose," said Harry; "I'll go
and get one."
He did so; but he forgot to chew it for his nestling, as the mother-
bird would have done, and the attempt to swallow it whole was too
much for the poor little crow, it gasped and died.
So the boys had neither egg nor pet from the crow's nest.


MRS. D. P. SANFORD.


4


VP
























THE WIRE HOUSE.

E would have liked a house,
And yet he hadn't any,
But always lived poor little mouse -
In nook and chink and cranny.

G.o Scurried from cranny to chink,
And hid in crevice or hole,
And what he had to eat and drink
I'm sorry to tell-he stole

One day, as, hungry and cold,
He searched the cupboard through
For a bit of meat or bread, behold,
He found there something new,-

A little house of wire,
With a woven wire dome,
A king of mice, even, might desire
So beautiful a home.






THE WIRE HOUSE.


And, oh! such a whiff of cheese
As came through the lattice door
In all those barren premises
No mouse had smelt before!













He crawled upon the peak,
And the skylight window tried,
And, after many an anxious squeak,
At last he got inside.

And there was the cheese, ah me!
Toasted a lovely brown;
And at once, so nearly starved was he,
He gobbled it all down.

Nibbled up every crumb;
And then he suddenly thought
He ought to have given his brothers
some,
Indeed, indeed he ought!

He would hurry and tell them so;
But the door was locked he found,
And all that was left him was to go,
Terrified, round and round!


~-~4~4'7~








THE WIRE HOUSE.


His pretty wire house
Was a wicked trap ah, well!
What then became of the little mouse
I do not like to tell!
MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.















THE GREAT DRAGON-FLY.


HERE is a little creature that comes whirring along with
flashy green and glittering wings, and so swift of flight that
nothing can escape him. Most insects heed the
birds; but the dragon-fly does not, for
even the d swallow cannot catch
him. His wings sound like the un-
furling of a small silken flag, he goes
so fast .!
Look at him when you see him! He
cannot sting you! Don't be afraid. He may
breathe as if he were fright ened, but that is not
so. If you should give him a spider, or a beetle,
he would munch it down before your very eyes;
but not before he has removed the hard wing-
cases. He will eat as long as you supply him
too. Thirty or forty flies are nothing for a single
meal!
When tired off he goes to some branch, or twig, sits
there a moment, shakes and plumes his pretty wings, as
if to see if they are in order; then he is away to
find other victims, just as if he had been fasting
for a week!
The first years of the dragon-fly's life were
passed under water, where he was just as busy
in chasing the insects to be found there as since
he got his wings!
MRS. G. EHLL








































KATRINA IN THE PLAY.

KATRINA is not a little girl, as you may think from her name.
Instead she is a beautiful speckled hen.
She has a great many gifts and graces, besides the very useful
accomplishment of laying eggs.
She is quite particular about her surroundings, and insists upon
having a nest of her very own, that no other hen in the flock is
allowed to use. She likes best to come into the house, and the chil-
dren have placed a nice little box behind the stove for a nest.
When Katrina wishes to be let in she pecks at the kitchen door, and
it is opened for her.


p-C s~-g~al~a~U-- ---~~--~b II~I_ 1


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LITTLE BOY BLUE.


She looks around at first to see if all is right, and then hope oa
the nest, where she sings to herself in a satisfied way.
One holiday the children arranged to play "Jack and the Bean-
stalk."
But they must have the giant's hen that laid the golden egg.
So, when all was ready, little Isabelle carried Katrina in her arms,
and stood her down on the stage.
She looked around at the audience in a dignified manner, and then
walked to the nest, and settled herself serenely.
In a few minutes she flew off with a triumphant cackle, and, lo, a
beautiful golden egg was left in the nest!
The play was so great a success that they had it repeated, and
Katrina acted her part just as well the second time, and seemed to
enjoy it as much as the children. Don't you think Katrina is quite
a wonderful little hen ?
ANNIE DOUGLAS BELL.

A -- - "

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LITTLE BOY BLUE.

DowW in the meadow the cows are calling,
The robin's sweet song comes home from afar,
And the apple blooms softly are falling;
Little Boy Blue, how sleepy you are!

Over the hills gray shadows are creeping.
Swift to her nest the mother-bird flies;
Little Boy Blue, in my fond arms sleeping,
Cradled and soothed with tender lullabies.






















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LITTLE BOY BLUE.


Little Boy Blue, when the months
you number
Shall grow into years in your
life's young day,
You will scorn your sweet baby-
hood's slumber,
And boyhood's wild sports will
lure yo-f away.

On your sweet pjps I will press
softest kisses;
For still you are mine, though
years swiftly glide.
Little Boy Blue, the world never
misses
One from its ranks,--oh, then,
stay at my side!


MRS. A. D. BELL.


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HOW WYNAN WENT DEER-HUNTING.


THE Adirondack region. about the lodge where Wynan was staying
abounded in deer. His papa was anxious to shoot one, and arrange-
ments were made for camping -ut a few miles away, near a lake
where the deer were known to feed.
Wynan's brother Harry and uncle Jack were to be of the party,
and Wynan begged so hard to be allowed to go, too, that consent was
finally given. They arrived at the camping-place late in the after-
noon. After pitching their tent and eating supper they sat around
the bright pine fire, while the guide told stories. Wynan himself
took a little nap on his papa's knee, in anticipation of his promised
evening on the lake.
At nine o'clock they started,-papa, Wynan, and the guide,-after
first smearing their faces and hands with a preparation of tar to pro-
tect them from the black flies, which weie very troublesome. Wynan
thought it fine fun as he set off in the boat; but the guide did not
fancy taking out a little boy on a deer-hunt, for he was afraid that he
would talk or make some noise, and thus spoil the sport. Wynan,
however, made all sorts of fair promises, and truly nobody could have
been stiller than he.
The guide paddled slowly along near the shore, and a lantern, with
a birch-bark reflector, high up in the bow of the boat, sent its light




HOW WYNAi WENT DEER-HUNTING.


far ahead over the water. In this way the persons in the boat could
not be seen by the deer, who came down at night to feed upon the
grass that grew in the water at the margin of the lake. The animals
could see only the bright light, and it seemed to dazzle them.
Papa's gun was in position, underneath the light, when, suddenly,
, ynan saw distinctly a deer, a short distance away, standing quite


still. Wynan was so excited that before he knew it he jerked papa's
arm, causing the gun to go off before papa had intended it should.
There was a sharp report, and then a great object leaped into the
boat, or tried to, nearly upsetting it.. The deer had been wounded by
the shot, and had jumped, he knew not where; but, as it chanced,
into the -very arms of his enemies. The guide put an end to the
animal's life, and they started back to the camp.
The next day Wynan ate venison steak for breakfast; and wasn't
mamma astonished when told that Wynan had helped to shoot a deeri
The antlers, which were fine ones, Wynan carried home with him.


EMMA C. DOWD.










Avce: xi* Gi lie ardJ
a v4JLAPA EDoll
t out to see aLady
akc a Foxr a tCI,
i;tixTwas So 9^^AI
1 'r y Till


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A. VERY LARGE DOLL.







































































MY DANDELION GIRL.





















MY DANDELION GIRL.

WITH hands too small to hold
All her sweet eyes could see
Of April's early gold,
Her frock uplifted she
In many a filmy fold,
And then like a white bee
She hither, thither sped,
The sunlight on her head
Gilding each fine-spun thread
Yellow as dandelions.

She could not bear to pass
One single flower by,
.Each disk, so like bright brass,
Was lovely to her eye,
Strewn on the carpet grass
As thick as they could lie.
But, ah, her tears fell down,
When the lap of her white gown
Got stains of green and brown
From her dear dandelions.


MRS. CLARA DOTY BATS.





















CAPTAIN BABY BELLE.


THERE she goes! Hooray!
The wind is in the play, and gaily blows the little sail-boat
Blossom out upon the lake.
Baby Belle sits in the boat, and shouts "Gi' up! gi' up, B'os-
som! Isn't she a brave little captain of four years?
But old Bruno on the wharf is not happy. Baby Belle is hav-
ing all the fun, and he runs about crying, Wow-wow! Wow-wow! "
very sadly.
And now brother Bob comes racing down the bank.
Stop her! stop i4er! he cries.
Careless boy! He was going to take Baby Belle out sailing.
He thought he left the Blossom safely tied, while he ran back to
the house.
This was a-mistake. The saucy wind began to tease the Blos-
som. Then the little boat pulled at the rope, and it untied.
So here was Captain Baby Belle going to sea all by herself.
She liked it, for she did not know the danger. She clapped her
hands, and shouted: "Here's me, Bobby! Gi' up! gi' up, B'cs-
som "
"Go fetch her, Bruno! Go fetch her!" cried Bobby.
The great dog barked gruffly, as, if to say "Ay, ay, sir !" and
leaped into the lake.
"Good boy! Swim hard! Go fetch her! Baby Belle laughed
when she saw the dog coming. "B'uno come too!" she called.






CAPTAIN BABY BELLE.


So the Blossom sailed away, and Bruno paddled after. The
wind stopped teasing the boat for a minute, and the dog swam up
and caught the dragging rope.
"Good boy, Bruno! come on! Come on, sir !" cried Bobby.
How the great dog did tug and pant. And Captain Baby Belle
enjoyed it, and promised Bruno a cooky when they got home.


At last they came to shore, and brother Bob jumped on board.
He patted Bruno, and tossed him a cooky. Then he gave Baby
Belle a hug of joy, and said:-
"Well, I'll never be so careless again. This time I'll go cap-
tain, Baby Belle; and you may go mate. Now three cheers for
the tug-boat Bruno!"
KHAM.



























FAR away from here, on the wild west coast of Africa, the sea-shore
shines white like silver. When you stoop down and take up a hand-
ful of the shining sand you find it is just little shells, ever so many, it
would be impossible to count them. Many of them are broken into
tiny bits of pearl that have been washed clean "and smooth by the
great waves breaking upon them day and night. That is why they
glisten so brightly when the sun shines upon them.
I am going to tell you about the shell called the cowry, which the
black people of Africa use for money. It is a beautiful little shell,
covered with shining enamel, with yellow rings upon it. The young
negro girls sometimes wear them round their neck on a string.
When they want to buy anything they have only to undo their neck-
lace and slip off one or two of the shells. Now, you would like to
know how much they are worth. I will tell you.
If a cent could be cut up into thirty-six pieces, one piece would be
worth one cowry. One cent is worth thirty-six cowries. But these
shells are not to be picked up easily on the shore. They have to be
searched for on reefs, and under rocks at low water. When these
cowries have the real live shell-fish in them they move about a great
deal from place to place.







SHELLS OF AFRICA.


Then there is the cone shell, smaller still and prettier. These in-
habit warm and shallow pools inside coral reefs. The spout shell is
very curiously shaped and curly-looking. Then there is the large
6ne called the hungry shell, because it has such a big, open mouth,
and is so very greedy, eating all day among the sea-weeds and sea-
grasses that grow in the clefts of the rocks.
If you take these large shells and hold them up to your ear, and
listen, you can here ,a-gentle, rushing sound, that is called the sound
of the sea. It is just like the little waves in the distance breaking
upon the shore. However long the shells have been away from their
homes they never forget it. Even if you have had them in your
house for years you can always hear them singing the song of their
sea-homes if you will only hold them up and listen for it.
A poet once wrote a verse about it in honor of a beautiful young
girl whom he knew. The words are so pretty that I will tell them
to you:---







" Her mouth is sweet, about her lips
A song forever dwells,
Like the sweet music of the sea
Upon the lips of shells."







Do not forget when you go to the beach in the summer months to
look for the large shells. Hold them up to your ear, and listen for
the music of thee sea.
CHARLES LILLIE.


















J 7/ 'CP


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DRIVING THE COWS.


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I,


IN the morning, fresh and dewy,
When old Nature's children wake,
My two boys the lumbering cattle
To the distant pasture take.

Down the path through blooming clover,
Nodding grasses, to the brink
Of a brook whose waters gurgle
Round their hoofs as slow they drink.


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DRIVING TBE CO WS.


Splashing -through the laughing
water,
Trooping up the other side,
So my happy, brown-faced laddies
Drive them to their pasture
wide.


And when shades of evening gather,
Just before the moon will come,
My two laughing, happy laddies
Go to bring the cattle home.

Up the dewy, dusky meadows,
Through the daisies and the grass,
Where the bobolinks are hidden,
Lingering, whistling, slow they pass.

And my little farmer, Freddie,
And my little artist, Lou, -
Call: Co'e boss, co'e boss,
co'e bossie "-


Soft the bells sound o'er the
meadows,
Tinkling, as the slow cows roam
Here and there along the roadside,
As my laddies drive them home J. K. LUDLUmr












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LI~'


WHAT WAS IN JENNIE'S RUBBER.

ONE night last summer Jennie left her rubbers on the door-stone.
It had been a wet day, and she had been very uneasy in the house.
Her mamma had put on her little water-proof coat and rubbers and
bade her run out with the ducks and goslings. That just suited
Jennie.' She paddled in the duck-pond, swung on the gate in the
very hardest shower, and ran races with Carlo over the muddy road.
She did not come in till Mary blew the trumpet for supper. Then
she was as "hungry as a bear." Jennie was always hungry. That
was why she forgot her rubbers.
The next morning, even before the dew was off the grass, Mary
called Jennie to help pick the peas for dinner. But Jennie could not
get one of her rubbers on. She pulled and twisted it and got very
red in the face. It would not go on, not even when she stamped it
hard on the door-stone.
"Oh, dear me, Mary, do you s'pose it's 'cause my foot grew so in the
night?" Jennie looked so pleased that Mary had not the heart to
dispute it, for the little girl was anxious to grow very fast indeed.
Jennie thought she would take off her shoes and only wear the
rubbers. In popped the little black-stockinged foot, but out it came
quicker than it went in, and Jennie hopped right up and down and
screamed.
"" Oo-o-o-o-ee! There's something in there, Mary!" Her great
black eyes flashed open wider than ever. "I felt it against my toe.
It's soft and it wiggled. Oh, I do believe it's a mouse! Get Boxer,
Mary, quick!"


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WAS IN JENNIE'S RUBBER.


Boxer was the black cat.
But just then the rubber wriggled, the hump went down out of the


toe, and the next moment out hopped a
the door-stone and panted.


How Mary laughed


good-sized toad, and sat on


SAnd I've been squeezing the poor thing almost to death.


and Jennie shouted!


WHA T


No






WHAT WAS IN JENNIE'S RUBBER.


wonder he's out of breath. I do believe the silly thing hopped in my
shoe last night to get in out of the rain."


Jennie took the toad and carried it to her flower-bed. She put it
under a big hollyhock to help her keep the worms and bugs off the
plants.
CHRISTINE STEPHENS.




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