• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 The greedy bird that wanted to...
 Washed ashore
 His native sea
 Danger behind!
 Somebody's relations
 Gretchen's telegraph
 The blacksmith
 "Fly little bird away"
 Betty and Polly
 Jack and Jill
 Home to dinner
 Katie's way
 Daisy and the flowers
 The hylas
 A sparrow in mid-Atlantic
 A little boy's wonder-song
 Dirty Jack
 The methodist horse
 Dolly knits, then hides
 Hattie and the butterfly
 Carry's troubles
 "Is my Papa there?"
 Two poor boys
 Going to Boston
 Nellie's accident
 Two robin red-breasts built their...
 A jumping rope match
 Going for Papa's letters
 "The sea foam"
 Esse's caller
 Back Cover






Title: Under the apple boughs
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00081095/00001
 Material Information
Title: Under the apple boughs
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : ill. ; 26 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Belford, Clarke & Co ( Publisher )
W.B. Conkey Company
Publisher: Belford, Clarke & Co.
Place of Publication: Chicago
Manufacturer: W.B. Conkey Co., printers and binders
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 )
History -- Juvenile literature -- France   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1891   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1891   ( lcsh )
Advertisements -- 1891   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1891
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Advertisements   ( rbgenr )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Illinois -- Chicago
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: illustrated.
General Note: Advertisements for Burlington route on back cover.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00081095
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002225062
notis - ALG5334
oclc - 191100925

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Frontispiece
    Title Page
        Title Page 1
        Title Page 2
    The greedy bird that wanted to eat a boy
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
    Washed ashore
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
    His native sea
        Page 9
        Page 10
    Danger behind!
        Page 11
    Somebody's relations
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
    Gretchen's telegraph
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
    The blacksmith
        Page 23
    "Fly little bird away"
        Page 24
        Page 25
    Betty and Polly
        Page 26
    Jack and Jill
        Page 27
    Home to dinner
        Page 28
        Page 29
    Katie's way
        Page 30
        Page 31
    Daisy and the flowers
        Page 32
    The hylas
        Page 33
    A sparrow in mid-Atlantic
        Page 34
        Page 35
    A little boy's wonder-song
        Page 36
    Dirty Jack
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
    The methodist horse
        Page 40
        Page 41
    Dolly knits, then hides
        Page 42
        Page 43
    Hattie and the butterfly
        Page 44
        Page 45
    Carry's troubles
        Page 46
        Page 47
    "Is my Papa there?"
        Page 48
        Page 49
    Two poor boys
        Page 50
        Page 51
    Going to Boston
        Page 52
    Nellie's accident
        Page 53
    Two robin red-breasts built their nest within a hollow tree
        Page 54
        Page 55
    A jumping rope match
        Page 56
        Page 57
    Going for Papa's letters
        Page 58
    "The sea foam"
        Page 59
    Esse's caller
        Page 60
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
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PICKING THE APPLES.


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UNDER THE APPLE BOUGHS.


CHICAGO
BELFORD-CLARKE CO., PUBLISHERS.







































COPYRIGHT
1891
BELFORD-CLARKE CO.


. S. MONKEYY CO.. PRINTERS AMND INOCER, CHICAGO











GREEDY BIRD THAT WANTED TO EAT A BOY.



THE GREEDY BIRD THAT WANTED TO
EAT A BOY.
IN the best room of a low-roofed cottage that I
know of, away up among the mountain-tops, is a beau-
tiful object that would be the pride of a much larger
and grander house. But there's a story connected with
it, and no money could buy it from its owner. Many
a tempting sum has been offered him for his treasure;
but although his house lacks many luxuries, and is a
bare place enough, he always refuses, and tells the
wondering traveller this story.
He had a son who was but a small boy when he
began to notice a pair of great eagles that had their
home among the rocks of one of the mountain-tops
near his father's house. Many a time did he watch
their long and splendid flight, as the father and mother
bird would go out in search of food for their hungry
family of eaglets.
It was almost the only life that the boy saw about
him; and he watched them so much, that he felt quite
well acquainted with them. And there grew in him
a great longing to see their home and their little ones;
and he often lay for hours on a hard rock, looking at
them, and laying plans for climbing to their nest, and
getting nearer to them.


I ~ -- -,-











GREEDY BIRD THAT WANTED TO EAT A BOC.l

But a time came when he was a little nearer than
he cared to be. It was a warm summer day; and his
father and mother had gone down the mountain to the
little town at its foot, where they bought the few
articles of clothing necessary for the small family of
three. The boy lay on the rock as usual, watching the
two grand old birds circling around in search of some-
thing to carry home to fill the hungry mouths waiting
for them; when suddenly the larger of the two began
to make circles around him, andseemed to fix his eyes
on him.
Whether he mistook him for a new kind of animal
which might be good to eat, or whether he resented
being so closely watched, I don't know; but while the
boy lay watching him, as his circles grew smaller and
smaller, he suddenly made a dive, and came directly
towards him. Even then the boy never thought of
being afraid of him till he came so near as to show
his dreadful claws, quite strong enough to carry off a
boy, his fierce beak wide open as though to tear him to
pieces, and his wild eyes fixed upon him.
Then a sudden fear seized him, and he 'threw up
his arms to frighten the bird off. But the great crea-
ture pounced "directly upon his breast; and the boy
thought that moment was his last. A deadly sickness
came over him, and his eyes closed. Just at that
moment a shot rang upon the clear air, and the eagle
fell instantly dead.





I











GREEDY BIRD THAT WANTED TO EAT A BOY.


But the boy knew nothing of it: he was in a faint.
He saw not the man who ran hastily up to see if he
was alive. He knew nothing of being carried in the
stranger's arms to his father's house and laid upon the
bed. When he did open his eyes, they rested on an
unknown face which was bending anxiously over him.
Of course, as he was not hurt, he was soon well;
and he and the stranger who had saved his life went
out to look at the dead bird. It was a magnificent
creature, one of the largest of its kind, and had, no
doubt, carried off many a sheep and goat in its day.
When the boy's parents came home, they heard the
strange story, how the strange gentleman, who was
a naturalist, that is, one who spends his life studying
the ways of birds and animals, happened to notice
the swoop of the eagle, and, wondering what he was
after, had hurried nearer, and, just at the moment he
reached the boy, had raised his ready gun, and shot
him dead fortunately at the first shot, or he might have
done serious injury.
The grateful parents could not do enough for the
man; and he finally spent the whole summer at the
cottage, hunting birds and finding out their ways, and
going off on long excursions among the mountains.
The boy always followed him, anxious to do something
for him, and eager to learn what the good naturalist
loved to teach.
The first thing he learned was to preserve and stuff


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GREEDY BIRD THAT WANTED TO EAT A BOY.

the eagle which had so nearly killed him; and it is the
stuffed bird, mounted on a tree-branch over the rude
mantle of the cottage, that is the treasure I spoke of.
But he taught him many other things also, how
to' watch the shy wild creatures, see how they live, and
what they do; and how to make his knowledge useful.
In the evenings he taught him to read; and when
winter came, and there was no more work to do out
of doors, and the father brought out his carving-tools,
and went to his winter's work of cutting toys out of
wood, which he sold in the village for meal, the natu-
ralist persuaded him to let the boy go every day to the
village to school.
That was the beginning of a new life for the boy.
He grew fond of books, and spent all his days study-
ing. When he was older, he went to the town to live;
and now, when he is about thirty years old, he is quite
well known in his native country as a naturalist, and a
writer of books.
The old father is very proud of his learned son;
and that is why he will never part with the old stuffed
eagle. He loves to remember the good fortune that
the greedy bird, who wanted a boy to eat, brought to
the boy he selected.






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WASHED ASHORE,





WASHED ASHORE.

IT was a bright sunshiny day in June; and on the
pebbly beach of the South Bay was a merry group of
busy children, who had been kept in doors by the equi-
noctial storms which had raged for a week or more,
when their attention was drawn to the farthermost end
of the cliff, where were strewed broken spars and masts,
which gave sad evidence of the violence of the recent
gales that had visited the coast. Their boisterous play
was suddenly hushed as they spied among the scattered
relics of the wreck a large chest; and curiosity took
possession of their little minds as they examined the
battered trunk which lay on the shore.
"0 Williel suppose there should be a lot of
money and diamonds and pretty things inside of that
old box 1 I wonder where it came from," said Mattie,
a lively little lass of ten years.
"Well, Miss Curiosity, and suppose there was: it
wouldn't be none of our business. It don't belong to
us, anyhow," answered Willie Norman.
"Yes, Willie; but you know it would be no narm
if we did just peep through the hole and see. I should
so like to know what there is inside I "
"Just like all you girls. You're never satisfied


i
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WASHED ASHORE.

unless you know every thing that's going on. I
should be ashamed of myself to be so inquisitive,--
I should."
Oh, I dare say, Willie! Of course you don't care
to know any thing about it. Why, you're almost dying


to find it out, I'm sure. I shouldn't wonder if it were
you thai cut the cord."
No, Miss Pert: I wouldn't be so mean. I wonder
if it didn't belong to some poor sailor who had got


1' -


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WASHED ASHORE.


drowned; and, if we could only find out who it be--
longed to, we could send it home to their friends, any-
how. I won't touch it myself; but I'll run home and
tell father all about it."
"I am sorry, Willie, that I spoke so cross," replied
Mattie. I didn't mean to. You are a good boy, after
all. Let me go along with you, will you ?"
So Willie ran home as fast as he could to tell his
father; and, when they opened the chest, they found a
little midshipman's uniform, and a bundle of letters
tied up in a bit of oil-skin, and a photograph of a
lady, besides some little curiosities from India, China,
and other countries.
Willie's father thought he had seen the person
before whose photograph was in the chest, and made
inquiries in the neighboring towns. Not long after-
wards, he found that it belonged to a sailor-boy who
had been wrecked on his first voyage; but that, though
the ship and its' cargo were all lost, yet the lives of the
crew and passengers were saved, and that the boy was
now a strong, hearty, and good man, the only support
of his widowed mother.
You may be sure they were very much obliged to
Willie and his father, who had taken so much trouble
to find an owner for the trunk; and every now and
then the sailor sent a little present tc Willie, in
remembrance of the sea-chest which was "washed
ashore."


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HIS NA TIVE SEA.


HIs NATIVE SEA.


HEN other boys spoke of their native land,
Ned Harpswell would say that he never
had any. That was because he was born
on board ship. So was his sister Dell.
SMrs. Harpswell did not wish to stay at home
alone with her children, but followed the sea" as well
as her husband.
Think what a care it must have been, to bring up
these two young Harpswells, among all the dangers
and privations of a life on shipboard.
She was always planning and hoping for a home.
Her husband finally persuaded her to let him buy a
house, and she was to furnish it as she pleased; and
'twill make the time pass quick, Fanny," he said, for
you to be getting ready for me."
But, for all his cheery words, Capt. Harpswell was
more homesick than anybody else, when he set sail
without his dear little family, to be gone for a long
year's voyage.
Mrs. Harpswell took great pride in her new home,
counting the days when her husband should return.


i -- -r?5-~- ...


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HIS NA TIVE SEA.

But, oh, dear! this is one of the true, sad stories that
does not come out as we would wish it.
"The Bonny Bird," Capt. Harpswell's vessel, re-
turned, -but not the captain.
In the picture you see Mr. MacDonald, the first
mate, telling the story which Ned has already heard
so many times. It was a hurricane of a night; and
the captain, who had been ill some days, was not fit
to come on deck, but come he would," said Mr. Mac-
Donald. He was always one to be in the thick of
danger, when there was any.
"There came a blinding sheet of sleet and wind.
We hardly knew where we were, any of us; but when
it had passed the captain was gone. There was such
a sea no boat could live in it, and we could not even
attempt to find him. He was just caught up in the
wings of the tempest, Ned, my boy. But there's One
that holds the winds in the hollow of his hand, my old
mother used to say, and we must believe he is safe in
God's hand."
Mrs. Harpswell tried to be brave, and make home
pleasant to her children; but they could never become
quite used to the land. For years they would call the
cellar "down in the hole;" up-stairs was "aloft," and
out of doors was ashore."
If Ned were missing, he was sure to be swimming
or sailing, or else looking longingly at his "native sea."
Dell was quite as much of a sailor too; and now that


- `--~- -~;-






-7-




DANGER BEHIND!

years have gone by, and gentle Mrs. Harpswell's life is
over here, Ned is a captain, and bright little Dell a cap-
tain's wife, "sailing the seas over."



DANGER BEHIND!

HIS young man owns a hobby-horse, and a father
and uncles
who are
willing to be
camels and ele-
phants at a min-
ute's notice; but
all this is too
safe.
What Charlie
longs for is a
fiery, untamed
steed, ,like the
one in the pic-
ture. He is now
turning a sharp -
corner, and in
less than second
there'll be a call
for mother, and Charlie will have a bad headache.


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SOMEBODY'S RELATIONS.






SOMEBODY'S RELATIONS.

,IS OW disgusting!" said I, when I came to
this picture.
"Why," said little Carrie, "I think it's
the most interesting picture of all."
Lucky our tastes are not all alike, isn't it? How-
ever, monkeys and apes and baboons are very curious
and interesting creatures.
Some people--wise people too--think they are a
sort of cousin to us. What do you think of that?
It is certain that the ape looks very much like us,
and, in one respect, is ahead of us.
Did you ever hear your mother say, "I wish I had
two pairs of hands "? Perhaps a monkey-mother said
that once, for she and the monkey-father and all the
children have each two pairs of hands. How quickly
they could dress for breakfast if they wanted to I
They can and do walk on their hind hands, or feet;
but their great toes are thumbs. Some monkeys have
another convenience in what is called a pre-hen-sile tail,
which means a tail that can hook on to any thing.
What a convenience that would be for boys in










SOMEBODY'S RELATIONS.


cherry-time, and two pairs of hands to each boy! But
even they might not be satisfied, and would probably
long for more than one mouth apiece.
It was great fun to see ever so many little monkeys,
in their big cage, in Central Park, New York, chase
a solemn-looking monkey that had a piece of ginger-
bread.
They darted after him like so many streaks of light-
ning, and I thought he would lose his lunch; when
suddenly, he suspended himself from a hook in the top
of the cage, and there hung like an odd chandelier,
while he ate his gingerbread at his leisure. So you
see how useful a pre-hen-sile tail may be.
It is rather a sad little monkey that we see shivering
in his red jacket, and minding the hand-organ man be-
cause he doesn't dare to do any thing else; but I am
told that when one of these little pets is comfortably
cared for in your house, he is seldom sad--it is more
apt to be the people in the house that are sad.
Here is an old monkey story which you may have
heard. A parrot and a monkey were once pets in the
same home. The parrot was a very wicked parrot,
and used language that I should not wish to repeat.
.The monkey was a cruel little fellow; and this parrot
and this monkey did not love one another as they
should, and it was never safe to leave them alone
together.
One Sunday, however, when the family were at


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GRETCHEN'S TELEGRAPH.

church, a door had been carelessly left open, and the
monkey made a call upon the parrot.

When the family returned, a naughty monkey was
hiding somewhere, a heap of bright feathers was scat-
tered about, and poor Polly, who had been picked as
bare as a Thanksgiving turkey, croaked,-
"We've-had-a-ter-ri-ble-time!"
I don't think of any more monkey stories to-day, but
this little anecdote shows that it is not well to have two
pairs of hands unless one can use them properly.




GRETCHEN'S TELEGRAPH.


HUMBLE home it was where golden-haired
Gretchen lived, but it was as happy as love
could make it.
When Christmas gathered the family about
the gay tree, there were father and mother, tall brother
Fritz, sister Hildegarde, joyous little Gretchen, and last,
but not least, lovely Catharine.
She was not a sister, but "a dearer one still," -so
Fritz thought.
She was a neighbor's niece,-a cross old neighbor,
Herr Zimmermann. Orphan Catharine had come to



_____ *.*
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GRETCHEN'S TELEGRAPH.


his keeping when she was nine years old; and from
that time, if there were one thing she liked above an-
other, Herr Zimmermann was sure to forbid it; and, if
there were one thing she disliked above another, he was
sure to command it. Because blue was her favorite
color, she must wear red. But, ah! he could not make
her look any thing but lovely, whatever color he obliged
her to wear.
Gretchen's good mother pitied the solitary little
maiden with so dull a home, only this cross-grained
uncle and a deaf housekeeper; and many were the
friendly greetings offered her across the hedge.
Herr Zimmermann, at first, was not disposed to
allow his niece to acquaint herself with these good
people; but at last he yielded, and there was always a
plate for Catharine at the table on every festive day.
When Fritz had finished his studies at Heidelberg,
and had begun to practise medicine sixty miles away,
Catharine seemed to care less to visit her friends. She
might often be seen under the trees of her uncle's lawn,
writing or meditating, with a sweet and pensive look.
Fritz came for a short visit; and there was a joyful
merry-making, for it was his birthday, and twenty-five
little candles winked their bright eyes at the big cake
that the mother had baked for the occasion.
Catharine was asked to be there; and how lovely
sL looked when the gay evening was over, and Fritz
wrapped her red cloak around her, and they walked
slowly away under the lindens to her uncle's!


--- 'H


I










GRETCHEN'S TELEGRAPH.

Fritz went back to his patients next morning, and
S Catharine was not seen again at the home fireside for
many a long day. When Gretchen went to the Herr's
with an invitation for Catharine, the deaf housekeeper
shook her head.
S "No matter if I can't hear you!" she said snap-
pishly. It makes no difference what you say. Our
young lady is to go to your house never more, and you
need not be asking for her."
S Gretchen often sorrowfully waited by'the hedge, but
never saw Catharine alone again anywhere about the
garden or lawn unless she were walking with her uncle,
or with an oldish gentleman, older and uglier, if pos-
sible, than the Herr himself.
Matters were in this state when, one day, a stranger
from Fritz's new home called to see Gretchen. She
met him gladly, expecting news from her dear brother.
Nor was she mistaken.
The young stranger reported Fritz quite well, and
sending hearty greetings to his family, and especially
to little sister Gretchen. "And here," added he, "is
this cage with a pigeon in it. The letter will tell you
what to do, little one."
The friendly stranger was in too great a hurry to see
the rest of the family; so, nodding good-by to the
pleased little face of Gretchen, he hastened for the
train.
"Dear little sister," Fritz wrote, "herein is a telegraph for










GRETCHEN'S TELEGRAPH.

you, or for me I should rather say. Go to the hedge to-night.
by the old, stile, and you may find there a letter for me. Tie
this firmly, but without chafing the bird, to its neck or leg.
Feed her not at all (this will be hard for you; but so, the more
surely, will she come back to me); keep her in the dark for
eight hours; dip her feet in cool vinegar, then set her free, with
a prayer, my own little Gretchen. I can say no more; but
you'll do this, and keep it all to yourself, my child, for you may
know you can trust .BROTHER FRITZ." I

Gretchen was perplexed. Not to tell Hildegarde,
nor even the dear mother! Not to feed a homesick
bird, whose piteous cry made the child's tender heart
ache! But these stern orders were from dear brother
Fritz. So she hid the fluttering stranger in the dark
closet of her chamber, and set forth for the hedge to
search for the mysterious letter.
Yes, it was there, almost hidden under the green.
She guarded it loyally, of course, tied it firmly around
the pigeon's neck, and at the earliest dawn she stole
out doors, and, not forgetting the little prayer Fritz had
begged, she set the messenger free.
And what happened next but an angry thump at the
cottage door! No friendly hand asking admittance, but
Herr Zimmermann's stout cane.
Catharine was gone. She had taken the night ex-
press for Basle, it would seem: and from that centre of
railways no one might tell whither she had gone, unless,
indeed, his neighbors could inform him; but they wre
as much surprised as the Herr himself.


I ~~











GRETCHEN'S TELEGRAPH.

Little Gretchen by the door-step, feeding her spar-
rows, guessed not that the little secret, brother Fritz
had intrusted her with, had any thing to do with Catha-
rine's flight. But, if the pigeon could have read the
little note that he carried so quickly to Fritz, he would
have found something like this:-

I will meet you at Basle. Uncle cannot be more displeased*
with me than he is already, for I have told him I will never
marry Herr Hoffman.
"I have found out that large property should have been mine,
of which uncle never meant to tell me; that he has lost it in his
speculations, and hoped to have assistance from Herr Hoffman
if I would marry him, and that I will not, mein Frit;.
"I have drawn my money from the bank; and, though I like
not this way of running off to be married, there seems no other
way for us.
S"And so farewell, till you see the red cloak you so much hate
in the station at Basle."

The young doctor was at the station before the train
arrived, and was not long in finding the red cloak. In
less than half an hour from that time, Dr. Fritz and
Catharine were quietly married in the parsonage of a
good Lutheran minister; and morning saw them at
breakfast in Fritz's usual boarding-place, where they
would stay while furnishing their own little nest of a /
home.
It was difficult for the doctor to leave his patients;











GRETCHEN'S TELEGRAPH.

but they must meet the dear parents and sisters on the
next birthday, which happened to be Catharine's.
The birthday loaf was a bride's cake, and trimmed
with orange-blossoms instead of candles.
I did not know how lovely Catharine could be,'
said Gretchen, as she admired her new sister in the soft
white summer dress.
She will never wear red again," Fritz replied; "but
I never saw any thing that looked better to my eye
than a red cloak one rainy evening in the Basle
station."
"Ah," said the mother, "to think thou wouldst take
an innocent pair like the pigeon and our little Gretchen
to bring about a runaway match!"
"This was an unusual case, thou knowest," said
Fritz; "and now that Herr Zimmermann is appeased,
and all are happy, let us try the bride's cake."


i I
111









THE BLACKSMITH.

THE BLACKSMITH.


CLANG, cling, clang, cling!
Bee-lows, you must roar; and, an-vil, you must
ring;
Ham-mer, you and I must work, for ding, dong,
ding!
Must dress my Kate and ba-by, and bread for
us must bring.


I


~ i








"FLY LITTLE BIRD AWAY."


"FLY LITTLE BIRD AWAY."

L,"'":2 '- A LIT-TLE girl
j .' ... ii, i. Read in her book,
'' i-How a wick-ed boy
I':. A wild bird took
: From out its nest
,. -,',--". In the green-wood tree.
A cap-tive now
'Tis forced-to be,
S a And flut-ters its poor
-. wings all day long,
And beats the bars of its cage so strong.

" Poor lit-tle bird" "
She soft-ly cried;
Then on her head
Her hood she tied,
Took down the cage
Of her own bird, :
Opened the door,
With joy-ous word.
SFly, lit-tle bird, a-way," :
quoth she,
"Back to your home in the green-wood tree.


I








"FLY LITTLE BIRD AWAY."
"FLY LITTLE BIRD AWAY."

A-way, a-way,
The glad bird flew,
Far out of sight,
"c^z~ In heav-ens blue.
., The wee girl watched
.'. ... With won-der-ing eye,
:,,; :, Till it had fad-ed.
-:..- In the sky,
Then sat her down, and cried, Boo-hoo!
My bird is gone What shall I do ?"

Her pin-a-fore
With tears was wet:
" My bird a-gain,
" I'll nev-er get."
At last she raised
Her weep-ing eye,
And there at hand, t -
What should she spy v L b
But bird-ie hop-ping in "'
his door, h."
Tired of his free-dom,
back once more.


I









BETTY AND POLLY.

BETTY AND POLLY.

BET-TY came to make a call on Pol-ly. So
Pol-ly got out all her toys, and put them on the
floor in a great heap, and they each sat down
be-side them. Bet-ty liked best of all a stuffed
rab-bit that squeaked when you squeezed it;


and she tucked it un-der her arm, and took it
all a-bout from room to room with her.. Pol-ly
at last, when she saw how much she liked it,
gave it to her for her ver-y own; and Bet-ty
went home hap-py, with the rabbit in her arms.


h-;-L
\R&--









JACK AND JILL.

JACK AND JILL.















THESE are Jack and Jill. Do you not see
their pail ? They fill it with salt wa-ter.









(*
- .. o. -.






"WHAT a sweet lit-tle lamb!" said May.
" No: it is a wolf. I must run: he will eat me."









HOME TO DINNER.

HOME TO DINNER.


OME, Willie, we'll go and call papa to din-
ner now," said Ruthie to her little brother.
"Willie, ride home on papa's back,'
shouted the little fellow, as he ran towards
the old mill.
Willie was the first to enter. He was
greeted with the words, What's wanted, my little
man?"
Home to dinner, papa! home to dinner. Willie
ride on papa's back. Papa, Willie's horse."
"Well, then, the horse is hungry, so here we go on
the trot," said papa.
He started from the yard on a run, Willie laughing
and shouting, and Ruthie carrying his hat and coat.
Whoa !" cried Willie, as papa pretended to go past
the house. Whoa, papa! Here's mamma's house."
"Oh, is it? I guess we'll stop and see if she'll
give us some dinner."
"Course she give dinner to papa-and Willie-
and Ruthie. WVe hers."
"That's so, my boy, we all belong to mamma."
"Yes, we does," said Willie, as he dropped to the
floor.
Ruthie helped him into his high chair. He closed
his eyes while papa asked a blessing on the food.
Then he opened them quickly and looked at mamma,
saying, Mamma, give papa good dinner."


I


I










KATIE'S WAY.


KATIE'S WAY.


ATIE and her brother Albert were out trying
to play lawn tennis. Neither understood the
game very well, but they meant to learn.
S They were just getting interested in it, when
little Ned, with his two pet dogs, Frisk and
Fido, came in sight.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Albert, crossly. "There
comes that little plague -or three plagues. No use
playing where Frisk and Fido are. They'll chase the
ball every time."
Perhaps I can get Ned back to the house. Then
I'll ask Delia to amuse him a while. I'll see what I
can do."
"Come, Ned," called Katie to her little brother.
'Come with Katie."
Ned was quite willing to follow Katie anywhere.
And Albert soon heard his happy laugh as they went
slowly back to the house. Katie would throw the ball
toward the house, and little Ned and the dogs would
race after it. Every throw took them nearer and
nearer the house. And when Katie asked Delia to
play ball with the dogs to amuse Ned, he was very
willing to stay. Then Katie ran back to Albert.
"Don't s'pose he'll stay there," said Albert, crossly.
SOh, yes, he will. Ned is a good boy, Albert, if
we are only pleasant to him."


I









DAISY AND THE FLOWERS.


DAISY AND THE FLOWERS.


AMMA," said little Daisy, "do the flowers
know ? "
"Know what, dear? "
"Know when I talk to them -how
much I love them."
"I think they know in this way, Daisy.
Flowers grow much better when we love them well
enough to take good care of them."


"But I wish they knew sure," said Daisy, almost
tearfully.
"Well, dear, God knows how much you love the
pretty flowers he has made. He knows all about it."
"And he can tell the flowers; can't he?" said
Daisy, as a lovely light came into the blue eyes.











THE HYLAS.


THE HYLAS.
"WHAT are hylas?" ask you. Only toads!
Little tree-toads, brown and green and gray;
Not like those that hop about the roads,-
Smaller, slenderer, prettier, than they.

All the winter long, they hide and sleep
In the damp earth's bosom, safe and fast;
When the warm rains find them, out they creep,
Glad to feel that April's come at last,

Glad and grateful, up the trees they climb,-
Pour their cheerful music on the air,
Crying, "Here's an end of snow and rime
Beauty is beginning everywhere!"

Listen, children, for so sweet a cry!
Listen, till you hear the hylas sing,
Ere the first star glitters in the sky,
In the crimson sunsets of the spring.
CELIA THAXTER.


I


1 _.












A SPARROW IN MID-ATLANTIC.


A SPARROW IN MID-ATLANTIC

As I was once crossing the Atlantic ,in one of the
large steamers that sail between America and England,
I was one day quietly reading a book under the shelter
of the deck-house, when my attention was caught by a
little bird hopping about on the canvas covering of one
of the boats. I was quite struck at his appearance at
such a time and place,- for we were just then in mid-
Atlantic, fifteen hundred miles from land,- and my
thoughts at once went wondering how this little spar-
row could have reached us there.
At first, I thought he must have escaped from some
one's keeping in the ship. Then I wondered if he had
started with us; for how could the little fellow have
kept upon the wing for so many, many miles? I
moved a little; but he did not fly away: and then I
went below and got crumbs of bread and biscuit, and
spread them on his canvas table; and, as he hopped
from crumb to crumb, he chirped his thanks for the
refreshing morsels.
While I watched him, thinking that perchance he
would rest his tired wings and stay with us all the
voyage through, he flew off to the shrouds and rigging;
then to the boats on the opposite side of the deck;


i


_


I










A LITTLE BOY'S WONDER-SONG.


and, as if trying his little wings for flight, flew once
right round the vessel as she careered along like a
thing of life; and at last, with one farewell chirrup, he
lifted himself into the air, and went straight away to
the southward,--his tiny form soon lost to sight in
the evening light.
And while I sat and thought, as the vessel pitched
and tossed in the dark-green waves, I was led to muse
on that wondrous love which marks even the lone
sparrow's way, and guides the little wanderer to food
and rest in its long flight of three thousand miles;
for not even a sparrow can fall without the permission
of our Father in heaven.



A LITTLE BOY'S WONDER-SONG.

I WONDER, oh II wonder what makes ve sun go wound;
I wonder what can make ve powers tum poppin' from
ve gwound;
I wonder if my dear mamma loves Billy mor'n me;
I wonder if I'd beat a bear a-climbin' up a twee;
I wonder how ve angels 'member everybody's players;
I wonder if I didn't leave my sandwich on ve stairs;
I wonder what my teacher meant about "a twuthful
heart;"
I guess 'tis finkin' untul Jack will surely bring my cart;


I


--~-~---'









DIRTY JACK.


I wonder what I'd do if I should hear a lion woar;
I bet I'd knock 'im on ve head, and lay 'im on ve floor I
I wonder if our Farver knew how awful I did feel
When Tom's pie was in my pottet, and I wead, "Vou
shalt not steal; "
I wonder if, when boys get big, it's dreadful in ve dark;
I wonder when my papa means to have anover lark;
I wonder what vat birdie says who hollers so and
sings;
I,wonder, oh I wonder lots and lots of over fings I




DIRTY JACK.

THERE was one little Jack,
Not very long back;
And 'tis said, to his lasting disgrace,
That he never was seen
With his hands at all clean,
Nor yet ever clean was his face.

His friends were much hurt
To see so much dirt,
And often and well did they scour;


'I









DIRTY JACK.

But all was in vain:
He was dirty again
Before they had done it an hour.

When to wash he was sent,
He reluctantly went
With water to splash himself o'er;
But he left the black streaks
Running down both his cheeks,
And made them look worse than before.

The idle and bad
May, like to this lad,
Be dirty and black, to be sure;
But good boys are seen
To be decent and clean,
Although they are ever so poor.


I










THE METHODIST HORSE.


THE ~METHODIST HORSE.


..-FEARS ago there was a neat little village,
that looked for all the world as if it might
"" be packed in a box and sold for a Christmas
present.
There was one street, and trees enough to
make a prim row along it, and houses enough to be
shaded by the trees, and just one church.
By and by somebody built a great mill; and then
houses big and small were put up here and there, and
soon a good Methodist minister held services in dif-
ferent houses.


_ 1111--1- 1~---










THE METHODIST HORSE.

Now, there were three little children who had lived in "Their Village," as they called it, and thought
it was a wrong thing to have any change.
The Methodist minister was a very kind man, fond
of children, always spoke to them, and often had some-
thing good in his pockets for them. You may know,
then, that he was surprised one day, when he was about
to harness his horse and start for the next village,
where he was to preach.
He was just slipping the bridle over the horse's
head, when a wild shout was heard; and on rushed a
terrible army of three children armed with cornstalks.
"The Methodist horse! The Methodist horse!" was
their war-cry; and, sure that they were doing a good
thing to drive the new religion out of town, they did
not stop till the frightened horse was far enough away
to lead his master a long .chase, and prevent his keeping
his appointment.
I've seen older people act the same way, but these
poor children didn't know any better.


~I .









DOLLY KNITS, THEN HIDES.


DOLLY KNITS, THEN HIDES.


UNNING little Dolly often gets into mis.
chief. She thinks she can do just what
grandma and mamma do. One day grand-
ma fell asleep and her knitting dropped to
the floor.


Dolly soon spied it, and the spectacles, too. She
picked both up and climbed into a big chair. Be-
fore beginning to knit she thought of something else.
"Dess Dolly'll put on drandma's tean tap."


j
I









DOLLY KNITS, THEN HIDES.

So she got the clean cap from the table, and
climbed into the big chair again. After putting on
cap and spectacles, Dolly tried to knit. But she only
pulled the needles out, and tangled the yarn. And
grandma was stirring, too. What would she say to
Dolly when she woke up ?




















Dolly was afraid grandma wouldn't like it, so shee
slipped from the chair and hid behind the clock.
Where's my work ? asked grandma. Has Dolly
been here ?"
Dolly's done 'way," answered a voice behind th
clock.


----- I










HATTIE AND THE BUTTERFLY.


HATTIE AND THE BUTTERFLY.


ITTLE Hattie Vaughn was playing in the
back yard, when she saw a beautiful but-
terfly light on a clover blossom just outside
the gate. She wished she could catch it.
So she opened the gate and walked softly
up to the butterfly.
Her hand was almost on it, when the butterfly
rose lightly in the air and sailed away toward the
woods.
Hattie watched it. Soon it settled down on a
wild lily the other side of a rail fence. Hattie
crawled through the fence and came close to the
pretty butterfly again.
But just as her hand came near, away it flew fur-
ther into the woods. Hattie followed. By and by
she lost sight of the butterfly. She was tired, and
wanted to go home. But she did not know the
way. She was lost. She began to cry, and cried her-
self to sleep.
Brother Dick found her sleeping under a large
tree. Dick and his father had been looking for Hat-
tie some time. He sit down beside her and thought
he would not wake her till his father came. But the
moment his father spoke, Hattie opened her eyes.
She was not afraid with her father and Dick near.



-..,


I1I












CARRY'S TROUBLES.





CARRY'S TROUBLES.

DEMURE little Carry, eleven, to-day.
Has a world of annoyances, truly,
Assuming the charge, in a sisterly way,
Of venturesome Kitty, and mischievous Ma
And bold Master Bob, the unruly.


__ _


I I











CARRY'S TROUBLES.

Of course there is nurse to decide what is best
In cases of reckless resistance;
But if nurse is the captain,.it must be confessed
That Carry affords, with unwearying zest,
A corporal's watchful assistance.

When Kitty was found up the peai- tree, last week,
With skirts in the branches entangled,
How long, without Carry's most opportune shriek,
Beholding the sister she wandered to seek,
Would Kitty, head downward, have dangled?

And May, fairy May, with her curls' glossy gold,
And the brown eyes glimmering under,
Were it not for the hand-clasp, so firm to hold,
From her restless gypsyings manifold,
Would she come back as safe, I wonder?

And Bob- what so hazardous he would not dare,
All peril disdaining sublimely,
If somehow a hand were not always just there,
Intent upon saving "papa's son and heir,"
In time, from an end most untimely?

Poor Carry laments, now and then, that her days
Are troubled- with good reason, truly!
And yet how the love of those dear ones repays
All Kitty's mad pranks, and all mischief of May's,
All capers of Bob, the unruly!
EDGAR FAWCETT.


I


L









IS MY PAPA THERE ?

"Is MY PAPA THERE?"


N the wharf was a large crowd. Men,
women and children were there. Little
Dannie Earle wondered what it all meant.
He was going to the store for mamma.
He had his pail in his hand. But he
.thought he would just go and see what
they were all looking at.
Dannie ran down to the wharf. He heard Captain
Rich talking. He could not hear all he said, there
was so much noise. He heard something about-
"lost vessel "- "up the channel." And once he
thought he heard the name Cap'n Earle."
Then it all flashed through Dannie's mind in a
moment. Papa's vessel was in sight it was com-
ing into the harbor. Papa's vessel wasn't lost after
all. How glad mamma would be!"
Dannie pressed up close to the old captain. "Cap'n
Rich, is my papa there? he asked eagerly.
Cap'n Rich looked down at little Dannie. Then he
said gently, I'm 'fraid I'm 'fraid, my boy. Some
are mission most likely. But we'll wait and see-
ves, we'll wait and see."
Scarcely had the long missing vessel touched the
wharf, when Dannie was clasped in his papa's arms.
So Dannie and his mamma were very happy. But
some of Dannie's little friends were very sad, for
their papa did not return.


I I


7










TWO POOR BOYS.


Two PoOR BOYS.


S LL alone in a bare, rough attic lived
Paul and his little brother Izzy. And
Izzy thought Paul the best brother and
the best boy in the world. And well
-he might, for Paul never spoke crossly
to Izzy. No matter how tired and hun-
gry he came home, he always had a smile
for his little brother. And Paul often went
hungry that Izzy might have enough.
Paul sometimes took Izzy with him when pleasant.
But the streets where he sold papers were too far
away for Izzy to go every day.
When he came home one night Izzy was not in
sight. Paul rushed up the rickety stairs with a
strange fear at his heart. He peered hastily round
the darkened room. In one corner was something on
the floor. Yes, there was little Izzy fast asleep. But
his face was flushed, and he breathed strangely.
Paul quickly made a fire in the old grate. When
the water was'hot he gave Izzy something warm to
drink. Soon he opened his eyes. But all he would
say was "I's cold I's cold, Paul."
Paul held him in his arms all night. And for
many days he did not leave him. But by and by
Izzy was better. Then Paul went and sold papers
again, that he might earn money to buy food.









GOING TO BOSTON.

GOING TO BOSTON.


HERE let's go to-day?" asked Elsie, as
the three children ran out of doors.
"Guess we'll go to Boston," answered
Abe. And little Andy echoed, Boston---
Boston to-day."
So all three ran to the trunk of a large
tree, lying on the ground. Tip, their dog, followed.
They never went anywhere without Tip.
Andy held the whip, so he sat nearest the horse
















and drove. Careful Abe sat next. He had to hold
Andy for fear of a fall. Elsie had nothing else to do
so she held her hat up on a stick. "So folks 'll ser
we're coming, she told Abe.


" .. ,!.-









NELLIE'S ACCIDENT.


NELLIE'S ACCIDENT.

POOR Nel-ly had a bad fall. She was out
in the barn, play-ing with her broth-er Will, and
was in the swing. Just as Will pushed her,
she lost her hold of the rope, and fell on the
floor. Her head struck it -with a hard crack.


___ ~ -~T 1


Will was fright-ened out ui his wits; tor she
did not move nor an-swer when he spoke to
her. So he ran to the house as fast as his legs
would take him,.and told his fa-ther.


-4. .-A'


II


( ~
__


















Two rob in red breasts
built their nest
With-in a hol-low tree:
The hen sat qui-et-ly at
home ;
The cock sang mer-ri-ly;
And all the lit-tle young
ones said;
"Wee-wee, wee-wee, wee-
wee!"


One day the sun was
warm and bright,
And shin-ing in the sky'











Cock Rob-in said, "My lit-tle dears,
'Tis time you learned to fly."
And all the lit-tle young ones said,
I'll try, I'll try, I'll try!"
I know a child, and who she is
I'll tell you by and by:
When mam-ma says, Do this," or "that,"
She says, "What for?" and "Why?"
She'd be a bet-ter child by far,
If she would say, I'll try."
Aunt Effie'S Rhymes.


I I


_








A JUMPING ROPE MATCH.


A JUMPING ROPE MATCH.
"Why can't we have a jump-ing-ropu'
match?" said Mary Bray-ton. "They have
walk-ing match-es, and run-ning match-es,
and wrest-ling matches. and I don't see why
we should not have a jump-ing-rope match.'
I think that it would be great fun," said her
broth-er Phil-ip, so they had one that af-ter-
noon. They were to jump in pairs, and the
.match was to show which two could jump
the great-est num-ber of times with-out miss-
ing. First Mary and Clara tried, while
Phil-ip and Kit-ty Smith turned the rope for
them. They jumped one hun-dred and ten
times, and then missed. Then Kit-ty and
Phil-ip tried. They went up to a hun-dred and
sev-en, a hun-dred and eight, a hun-dred and
Nine, a hun-dred and ten, and then kept on
un-til they had reached one hun-dred and
twen-ty, when they missed. There ought
be some prizes,' said Mary. "Oh, the glo-rv
is e-nough," Phil-ip re-plied laugh-ing.
















717 I / / 7F7-7,


A JUMPING ROPE MATCH.









GOING FOR PAPA'S LETTERS.


GOING FOR PAPA'S LETTERS.


RESH as a rose was our little Gracie as she
came into my room after her morning bath.
"Going for papa's letters, now, mamma."
This was one of the things which our
darling delighted to do. But this morning
it was sprinkling. So I said, "Can't Gracie
sit down with mamma, and let papa get his letters
to-day?"


fhe sweet eyes filled, and a loving voice said,
"Papa's little Gracie get them." So I slipped the hat
over the curly head and gave her my large parasol,
and let her go. What a happy little Gracie it was, that
walked along in the rain after papa's letters.


_
_I


- r










THE SEA FOAM.

"THE SEA FOAM."

ONE bright spring day Tom got out his new
sail-boat, "The Sea Foam," Dol-ly went with
him, and they set out for the pond. They
had but just put the boat in the wa-ter, when


they saw their cous-in Grace. -She had a doll
in her arms, which she was car-ry-ing with great
care; and she had her eyes on the ground as
she walked a-long.


i 11 _


i, _~


?V y 'p-,









ESSE'S CALLER.

ESSE'S CALLER.


RIGHT-EYED baby Esse stood at the
window watching the monkey on, the hand-
organ. She had never seen a monkey be-
fore, and her baby eyes were filled with
wonder.
"Mamma," said Esse slowly, her eyes still
fixed intently on the monkey, "Mamma- monkey
Se c [ baked hard.'
isd Ei "No, Esse, dear.
-~ The monkey isn't
,' baked. God made
= him just so. He
isn't like cook's
gingerbread cats
and dogs when
she bakes them
very brown. The
monkey is alive,
Esse." Esse soon
-learned that he

Jumped to the
piazza and came
close to the win-
---" dow. She did not
like her caller very well. After a neai-er view she
said, Esse think- monkey- not- pretty."


I I


I '























Nil




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