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S~r HELD TSIP FLOVI~RS PGA[~ST H~-R ~IPS.
SNOW AND SUNSHINE
A BOO OF" IMERRIIMENT AND FULIN
Oh, these two little toadies went out for a walk,
Out for a walk, out for a walk,
And arm in arm they had a nice talk,
Had a nice talk, had a nice talk.
EDITED BY AUNT MARY
MONARCH BOOK COMPANY,
(Formerly L. P. Miller & Co.)
THE USUAL WAY.
THE USUAL WAY.
There was once a little man, and his rod and line he took,
For he said, "I'll go a-fishing in the neighboring brook,"
And it chanced a little maiden was walking out that day,
And they met-in the usual way.
Then he sat him down beside her, and an hour or two went by,
But still upon the grassy brink his rod and line did lie;
"I thought," she shyly whispered, "you'd be fishing all the day!"
And he was-in the usual way.
So he gravely took his rod in hand, and threw the line about,
And the fish perceived distinctly he was not looking out;
And he said "Sweetheart, I love you," but she said she could not stay,
But she did-in the usual way.
THE USUAL WA Y.
Then the stars came out above them, and she gave a little sigh,
As they watched the silver ripples, like the moments, running by;
' We must say good-bye," she whispered, by the alders old and gray,
And they did-in the usual way.
And day by day beside the stream they wandered to and fro,
And day by day the fishes swam securely down below;
Till this little story ended, as such little stories may,
Very much-in the usual way.
And now that they are married, do they always bill and coo?
Do they ever fret and quarrel like other couples do?
Does he cherish her and love her? Does she honor and obey?
Well-they do-in the usual way.
THE Christmas day is dawning;
Our carols now we sing;
And pray the coming season
May peace and gladness bring.
To every one, and all of yours,
'We wish a merry lay,
And hope some of its pleasures
Through all the year may stay.
L. A. FRANCE.
THE MORNING-GLORY PITCHER.
I saw a pretty little pitcher the other day. It was covered with
vines and blossoms of morning-glories. A lady showed it to me -
who does not play with dolls and tea-sets any more. She lives in
a beautiful home of her own, with plenty of real china for real
people. But she lhas kept this little pitcher, without a crack or
flaw, since the days when she spread dolls' tables, and poured cream
from it into little cups for stiff little people with bright eyes and
"real hair," but with no lips to open for pretended tea and coffee.
There was a little folded paper, yellow from age, inside the
She told. me who gave it to her. It was at a children's party,
where ever so many little girls were dancing about a Christmas
tree, each one with a gift from this kind lady. I did not wonder
she had kept the pitcher.
If you should not know about the lady who gave the pitcher,
THE MORNING- GLOR Y PITCHER.
when I tell you that her name was Catherine Sedgwick, your
mother will know. She will tell you that when she was a little
girl she used to get away in a snug corner of some old parlor and
read Miss Sedgwick's stories for children. And perhaps she will
go to the library and take down a green or brown old-fashioned
book and read you about a Poor man who was rich, or a rich man
who was poor." Stories keep, as well as pitchers, when the kind
people who wrote or gave them have gone where we cannot see
them any more.
These are the verses inside the pitcher:--
"Here's dear Lucy P- ,
So bright and so rosy,
In each of her cheeks'
Is a little red posy.
"I wonder why 't is
That her eyes -are so bright
I think it's because
The tree gives so much light.
OUT IN THE ,> .-
"And 'twill show her, I \..,
Something pleasant to --.
Which by common consent
Little Lucy's shall be."
And this is the pitcher.
MRS3 J7riA ~. F AIEa.l
OUT IN THE STOOM.
SHRILL shriek the winter '.-;.i!
And through the hemilocks ih ;
Swift, in a wild and merry ,1..,.
The snow-flakes whirl across the sky.
The trees with icy InuIs
Stand crackling in the g., il;
Low from his kennel, snug and warm,
Echoes old Carlo's mournful wail.
1 :r 'br
.i ~lr~'d pr: irB 1~1
~ r ~t' ~
I 2 T
1. -. .. -- -7 1;
OUT IN THE STORM.
Heap high the blazing- grate,
And fill the house with cheer;
In cosey circle clustered round, -
No storms we happy children fear.
Though the loud whistling blasts
O'er land and ocean roam,
We laugh and sing without a care,
Safe in our own dear sheltering horr,
But listen Tap, tap, tap,"
Upon the window-pane.
You roguish wind, we love you not,
Pray fly away, nor come agal !
Ah, look! A tiny beak!
A shrewd and sparkling eye!
'T is Master Snow-bird's plaintive chirp:
"Feed me, kind friends, nor let me die!"
Hasten! the choicest crumbs
Pour on the window-sill.
Welcome, lone wanderers in the gale;
Come, snow-birds all, and take your fill.
He darts away in fright;
Quick, close the sash, and wait!
ee, lie returns on fluttering wing,
And, joyful, calls his gentle mate.
How sweet, amid the storm.
Their twitters of delight!
And, while we watch their eager joy,
How our own hearts grow warm and light!
Only two mites of birds,
Two specks on the gray sky;
Yet not one pang nor joy they feel,
Escapes the Heavenly Father's eye.
A PUZZLING QUESTION.
A PUZZLING QUESTION.
Are you sitting for your portrait
That you look so grave and glum?
Are you working out a problem,
Or a long division sum?
If my pussy-cat, my Chloe,
Happ'ned to come wand'ringmby, .
Would you leave your meditations,
Spread your pretty wings, and fly?
Are you dead, or are you living?
That is what I'd like to know; -
Are you stuffed, you poor dear dicky, ''
Put there just to make a show?
He stands upon the old church tower,
Through calm or tempest, sun or shower:
A bird who never seems to care
To eat or drink, but lives on air!
I And why? The reason's plain to me:
He's but a weathercock, you see.
Mr. Golden-crested Wren;
How you sing when Winter's gone!
For, when leaves are showing, then,
Mr. Golden-crested Wren,
Of your nest you dream again,
Soft and snug, with roof thereon!
Mr. Golden-crested Wren,
How you sing when Winter s gone !
A FARMER'S BOY.
A FARMER'S BOY.
"What will you do, my little man,
S- ^When you are tall and strong?"
_?, Says Bertie with a laugh, "I mean
To drie the plow
'It must be fun to feed the pigs,
And wear a white smock-frock,
And eat your dinner in the fields,
And rise at four o'clock.
"Besides, to hunt for new-
Is just what I'd enjoy;
Now, don't you think it
o b must be nice
___To be a farmer's boy?" A FARMER'S 8OY.
HOW MISTRESS SPECKLE CELEBRATED
'T WAS early in the morning
Of the glad Thanskgiving Day,
And the people on old grandpa's farm
Were joyous, blithe, and gay;
For the dinner was preparing,
And the folks from out of town
Were hastening home to help us eat
The turkey crisp and brown.
We children were exploring
The red-roofed barn for eggs,
And climbing up to the rafters, with
No fear of broken legs.
For the boys were bold and daring,
And the girls -were Tom-boys, too,
And the hens looked on in wild amaze,
And round about us flew.
Said our youngest pet and darling,
"I'm so glad I'm not a hen;
For they don't have a Thankful day,
Nor dinners, nor"-just then
Uprose our gray old speckle
From her hidden nest near by,
CELEBRATING THANKSGIVING .DAY.
And passed us with a merry cluck,
And crested head on high;
--- :- _- -:-_ ... ; ... ; ...
While close behind her followed
The darlings hatched that day, -
Twelve dainty, downy, fluffy chicks,
Some yellow and some gray.
"Cluck, cluck," said Mistress Speckle,
"Here's one thankful hen, you see.
Who says that this is not a glad
Thanksgiving Day for me ?"
MARY D. BRINE.
THE CANOE OF THE WATER MOTH.
THE gnat builds his egg boat. The water moth, another
little creature, puts together a real canoe. It is a very curious
thing, made of bits of straw and reeds all matted together.
It is just the shape of the caterpillar that lives in it. The insect
breathes with gills just like a fish, and yet cannot swim.
So. he fastens this straw and grass together, winding
them all around with his own silk. The body of the caterpil-
lar is soft and delicate, you know, and might get hurt if it
was left exposed. This
Sis the reason why he
Covers it so carefully,
l bo '' all but his head.
-. This funny sort of
S. canoe is open at both
Sends. It is so fixed
St y that when the grub is
tired of sailing he can
S. sink down upon the
sand. Reaching out
of the upper end are
Ships six little feet, with
which he drags his
small boat alter him whenever h wants to get his din-
ner or put up for the night. After several days he not
only creeps out of this strange house, but out of his skin, at the
same time taking on moth wings.
Many people call these queer creatures laddis worms." If you
hunt for them with your young eyes, you can find these little nests
of stone, and gravel, and leaves, made by the grubs, though they
are very small. They seem to have great taste in fixing them.
You should see the houses they make of fresh leaves, curiously put
together. They hang from their shoulders like so many wings.
They are even more like a bud just ready to open.
THE CANOE OF THE WATER MIOT.I
These pretty cases of leaves re-glued together, leaving an opening
at its top just large enough for the little creatures to put out their
head and shoulders, when they want to look about for food; others
of the same species cut pieces of reed or wood into lengths or strips,
and join them together as they go on with their work. They use a
certain kind of cement, which is better able to stand water than any
ever made by man. And they often finish up the whole by putting
a broad piece, longer than all the rest, overhead, to shade the door-
way, so that no one shall see them work. Some of these funny
grubs break off bits of the stems of rushes, m which, you know grow in
the water, and weave them into a sort of a round ball. Then they
hang them together on the stem of some other water plant, making a
little cell in the middle to live in. Some use tiny shells even, with
snails and other animals alive in them. They keep these poor things
just as if they were in prison, and drag them all about with them.
MRS. G. HALL.
A CHRISTMAS TREE IN THE INDIAN
THERE are two little children who like play and playthings, but
yho live seven miles from town or neighbor, from post-office or
store, in the Indian Territory. There are only seven
."1. n iit: \ ,:ii,,, in, til- uia .- it -.itdem ent.
S.. At (_'lii stm,. thir.- t,.ither brought in a
.. .._ .,, tt. mi,:, 1-treei and made it gay
Switch l;'ld id silver paper and
S pop-corn. The
IO is y '"lighted it up in-
stead of tapers.
l '1" He hung upon
it all the toys he
6. I... was able to get,
and placedat the
A top a picture of
SN Santa Claus driv-
A ing his reindeer.
It was n'tmuch
like the Christ-
m as trees you
are used to;
S.... but it delighted
'." them, because
they had never
seen anything better. If you don't know where the Indian Terri-
tory is, you can find it on your map
MARY N. PRESCO"1'P.
.~ II 'I ,
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D19!cD e'-~5: ~~Zli
SANTA CLAUS AT THE SOUTH.
A GOOSE FLYING A KITE.
NoT long ago some little boys were flying small paper kites.
They were made of newspaper, about as big as your hand, with
straws stuck through for sticks.
A flock of tame geese came waddling along, picking up stray
grains of corn. One of the boys took a grain and tied his kite-string
firmly to it. An old gray goose, a little behind the rest, with her
neck stuck out as far as possible, made a grab for the corn. She
got it, but found she had the kite too.
Off she started, Quack, quack, quack "- with the kite flying
up above her head and her wings flapping all the while. It frightened
the rest of the geese, and such a quacking and flapping as they
made The boys raced after them, and thought it fine fun to see an
old goose flying a kite.
TWO YEARS OLD INA MISCHIIEF
mustered courage to go into the hall and shut the door behind her;
but she came back quickly enough. It seemed to her as if the
shadows were all following her up the staircase. It was some time
before she made up her mind to conquer; then she ran up the stairs
as if all the hobgoblins in the fairy-books were behind her. When
she reached the nursery and groped her way about, all at once it
was the same as though the room had been full of sunlight. She
was never afraid of the dark again.
MARY N. PRESCOTT.
TWO-YEARS-OLD IN MISCHIEF.
A. CRACK in the vase, and the roses all scattered;
A snarl in the knitting, a hunt for the ball:
The ink-bottle shattered, the carpet bespattered;
Dirt-pies in the hall.
The fruit on the table by tiny teeth bitten;
Wee prints of wet fingers on window and door;
Poor grandmamma's cap, as a frock for the kitten.
Dragged down on the floor.
Soft gurgles of laughter; a sunshiny glancing,
As somebody flits in and out like a bird;
Strange accidents chancing wherever the dancing,
Small footsteps are heard.
"Come, Ethel, my baby, your grave eyes uplifting,
Stand here at my knee. Do youth know the wee sprite,
Who into some ever-new mischief is drifting,
From morning till night ?"
A smile like a sunbeam, so coy and caressing,
She smiles in my face, like the witch that she is.
No need of more guessing. My trouble, my blessing,
Come, give me a kiss!"
THE BIRDIES' MISSION.
C OME, little birdies, come,
Come to our calling,
Look at the crumbs we bring,
Show'ring and falling.
Then when you've had enough,
Upward go winging,
Round mother's window pane,
Fly and be singing.
And when you fly away,
When summer's over,
Haply our father's ship,
You may discover.
Fly to him, little, birds,
Where he stands steering,
Tell him we wait and pray
For his appearing.
Tell him of mother's love,
Sing to him gaily,
Tell him his little girls
Miss him so daily.
Then when the winter's past,
Tell us that father's boat
Homeward is steering!
. -, r.l'
,l ; ,
DOT was afraid of the dark; nobody knows why. It has not a
sting like a wasp, nor a thorn like a rose ; but Dot was afraid of it.
Perhaps there are some other children like her.
One night she was sitting with her father and mother in the
drawing-room, in the twilight. She wanted her doll, which was
up-stairs in the nursery.
"You will have to go up for it yourself," said her mother;
"Bridget is busy in the kitchen." Dot opened the drawing-room
door and looked out into the hall. It was big and dark, and the
pictures on the walls were all eyes. Even the hat-tree looked as if
it had grown. She shut the door and sat down for a while. Pres-
ently she opened it wide, and put a cricket against it to keep it
open. Still the shadows in the hall were just as thick and dark.
She closed the door and went back to her seat. By and by she
Down the dark stairs unduly,
Two little Nightgowns creep;
To see if Dollies truly
Are safe and sound asleep.
One kiss to each, one only,
Then back on tiptoe light,
" Dear Dollies, don't be lonely,
Sleep sweet till morning bright!"
4 *- .... -.-
And up the stairs at midnight
Mamma will softly creep,
To see if her two Dollies
Are also sound asleep.
She'll bend to kiss them sleeping,
One little pray'r she'll say,
"God bless them thro' the darkness,
God bless them all the day !"
HOW INSECTS MAKE MUSIC.
THE katydid has a wing that is very curious to look at. You
have seen this little insect,
I have no doubt. Its color
is light green, and just
1 where the wing joins the
S-"body there is a thick ridge,
S- / 5 and another on the wing.
-'' .- On this ridge there is a
S.thin and strong skin, which
.," makes a sort of drumhead.
It is the rubbing of these
two ridges, or drumheads,
that makes the queer noise you have heard. There is no music in
it, surely. The insects could keep quiet as well as not, and they
must enjoy doing it.
The katydid usually makes three rubs with its drumheads, some-
times only two. You can fancy she says, Katy did," and She
did," or She did n't." The moment it is dusk, they begin. Soon
the whole company are at work. As they rest after each rubbing,
it seems as if they answered each other.
Did you know that bees hum from under their
wings? It is not the stir of those beautiful
light wings we hear. It is the air / drawing in
and out of the air-tubes, in the bee's quick
flight. The faster a bee flies the louder
the humming is. ..
Don't you believe insects feel ?
Indeed they do They have nerves
all over them, '- / even through their wings,
and out to the end of every feeler. They
mustremember A this, and be kind to all the little
insects God has made.
MRS. G. HALL.
TWO-YEARS-OLD IN MISCHIEF.
DOLL Y'S PRA YEARS.
Dolly, Dolly, Nursie's here,
I must leave you now, I fear,
Let me only brush your hair,
Kiss me then, and say your prayer.
Put your hands together, so,
Say the words in whispers low,
Pray that you may sleep always,
Safe and sound till break of day.
Pray that never goblin come
To frighten you with fi-fo-fum,
Never rat or bat or mouse
Come a-near your beddy-house.
Pray that when you wake again
I may never cause you pain,
Never beat you, never scold
When I find you getting old.
Pray that brother Alec too
\ il I '. ..t it i .:- 1.1 L', w ith you,
\\ ill i .. i l.. .k ..u v itch a pin
\ ,- h ,- t, [' ,:,, l w within.
I !rit 1:.,..- you, Dolly dear,
N .r-r!I'- getting cross I fear.
n Th--r.-! and now your prayer
S. ., you've said,
S. I must really go to bed.
i .. ._ _,.' .. ....- ..,
._. '- '-', .Don't be frightened, dear,
...... at all,
i. If you want me, Dolly,
.......... : And I'll come to
SLir ; Go to sleep then,
Dolly, do !
THE UGL Y DUCKLING.
THE UGLY DUCKLING.
On a river broad and fair,
In the land of You-know-where,
Lived a duck who was the envy of the rest;
And her offspring at her side
Filled her mother-heart with pride,
For she naturally considered them the best.
But pride must have a fall;
There was one among them all,
Whose arrival seemed a very sad mistake,
He'd a color all quite
wrong, ', .
And his neck was far ..---.
too long, ; '
And his legs a deal too gawky ..'.'", '.
for a drake. .' .. ., '" a'
So with anger, all the rest
Drove him flying from
And they called him "Ugly
Duckling'' in their scorn,
And that ill-used little
Unfurled each ugly wing,
And drifted down the river all
And the days went sad and slow
As he drifted to and fro,
With all the joy of life forever gone,
Till one morning he espied
His reflection in the tide,
And 'twas not an ugly duckling, but a swan.
So if misunderstood,
Simply struggle to be good,
'Tis the only way, you see, of getting on;
And with patience and with pluck
Tho' you once were thought a duck,
You may prove yourself a grand white swan!
Some curious stories are told about the shooting fish which are found
in the rivers and small lakes of Siam. The fish passes most of its
time doing nothing in the deep, quiet pools near the shore. When it
becomes- hungry it swims slowly down stream near the surface of the
water. As soon as it sights a fly or bug on a bush or bit of grass
at the water's edge, it floats up to a position within two or three feet
of the insect, raises its head slightly above the surface of the water,
then for a few seconds it remains motionless, apparently taking aim with
its mouth. Then it projects its under jaw slightly beyond the upper
jaw, and fires from the little round aperture thus formed, a drop of
water at the fly or bug. This drop of water moves with lightning
rapidity, and invariably hits the insect at which it is aimed. The
insect falls into the water, and the fish devours it. Dr. Meister, a
German traveler, says he has often seen a shooting fish bag thirty or
more insects in quick succession after this fashion. Bugs with hard
shells or heavy wings are sometimes impervious to the shooting fish's
drop of water. Any ordinary insect, however, of smaller size than the
end of a man's thumb, is usually knocked senseless by it.
In Siam Dr. Meister caught and preserved in his aquarium several
shooting fish. They became tame. They would shoot at almost any
kind of an object that was held over their tank. To test the accuracy
of their aim he occasionally held over the tank a bit of white paste-
board, on which was painted a black fly of about half the size of
the top of a lead pencil. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred the fish
hit the fly squarely, and the one hundredth time missed it only by a
hair's breadth. The end of a pencil, or a finger, or any small round
object held over the tank, always attracted a tiny shower of drops
from the fish below. Three of the shooting fish were trained by the
Doctor to jump five or six inches out of the water to get bits of
food from between his fingers. Dr. Meister considers shooting fish to
be the most intelligent of all fish, and destined to supplant gold fish
in the parlor aquariums of Europe and America. The shooting fish
is usually the size of a man's hand, short and thick, and of a grayish-
green color. Four heavy black stripes cross its back, which, near the
sides, is of a silvery hue. It is a shy and cautious fish, is rarely
found near other fish, and is difficult to catch.
% .1- -.1"
~i l-~-t?~;----~~' 4.
R~mTI1L '" J `~I'
A FOOLISH MO USE.
A FOOLISH MOUSE.
This is a tale of a wee little mouse
Who lived in a hole in a wee little house,
And crept out one day, and in manner cool,
Dared to wink at a lordly cat on a stool.
The cat made a leap, but 'twas all in vain,
For mousie was soon in his hole again;
But, alas! the danger once over, Sir Mouse
Ran the same risk again, and ne'er reached his house.
There's a moral of course to this very old tale,
And to bear it in mind you never should fail:
Unharmed you may once a great peril endure,
But risk it too oft, and repentance is sure!
WILLIE'S FIRST POCKET.
FIVE happy years have swiftly passed away;
Willie has got his first pocket to-day;
Oh, how my baby is slipping from me!
What a big man my darling soon will be!
Next year a vest and suspenders we'll see;
Proud, very proud of his pocket is he;
See, he has stuffed it as full as can be;
Now toward his mother he turns his brown eyes,
And, though like a melon it looks from its size,
"My pocket ain't big enough, ma! he cries.
ABRAM LENT SMITH.
THE NEST IN THE MAIL-BOX.
WE had to fasten a box for our mail on the gate-post, because the
.. v postman is afraid of our dog,
and will not come into the
-.'. yard. Last summer two little
S- bluebirds made a cunning nest
.riolht in that box.
-_ F-. The manima bird laid five
.- .: tiny eggs, and sat on them,
S,._.f letting the postman drop the
letters on her. Every morning
S. ... and evening the newsboy put in
S Papa bird brought her worms, and
S i:'1' 11: i, sister, and I used to watch him.
I' II, uld never go in the box while we
looked on, and when we I.-
walked away he would drop
down quick as a flash. '" "Q--
By and by there were five i',." '. "' i '.
little birds in the nest. We '-
thought the letters and papers -I-I
would surely kill them. But I '
they did not; the birds grew I -l -,'
finely. Their mouths were "'
always wide open. One day .u l
I put some fine crumbs in .
the nest thinking they would '' '''
like to eat. I wish you could ''
have seen mamma bird. Shie I'; I ,
flew round and round, acting
THE NEST IN TIHE MAIL BOX.
as if crazy. Finally she began taking out the tiny crumbs one by
one, until the last one was t- .- hr n n
away. I had seen pictures chil
dren feeding crumbs to birds, S-'. j
thought it the right thing to ut
surely it was not the food t r1 s
needed. For several weeks
we watched them, and saw
We wanted to see the
mamma teach them to fly.
But they all left suddenly. TIh.- '
nest was empty one day, and w.
could never tell our birds from tI,-
others in the yard. I brought tli- .
nest into the house and kept it .ll 1.
winter. We wondered if we slioull
see the little birds again the ne:t
At the opening of spring w'-
watched closely, and sure enough
the bluebirds did come again, and built a nest in the same box.
This time they made a better founda-
-... .... tion, raised the nest higher up, lined it
with horse-hair, and put it in one corner
S of the box. Then the mamma bird laid
five little eggs, and we and they were
One day we missed an egg. The
'I next day another was gone, and then
another, until only one was left. We
S found that some bad boys had dis-
Z!?:; covered the nest and were stealing all
l the eggs. Finally the boys took the
\' "N.il last one; then we felt so sorry, and
thought we should see the birds no
JOHn.IE BRO W0 V'S IWIIITE LRESS.
more. But they did not give up. They at once tore to pieces the
old nest, and built a new one in another corner. Four more little
eggs were laid in it. The bad boys took two of those out. Then
papa and I locked the box. I thought the mamma bird might be
so frightened she would not want to stay on the nest. But she did
stay; and now we have two little baby birds which open their
mouths wide and squirm whenever we raise the cover of the box.
I wonder if any other little boy has such cunning pets.
JOHNNIE BROWN'S WHITE DRESS.
THIS little boy had light curly hair and large blue eyes. He was
a chubby, good-natured fellow. Once in a while he would run away
to float a small sail-boat in the harbor. There was a large tub full
of water a:t ho:me, where he could try his boat; but that was not
large enough to suit him. One day his mother missed him, and
went out to find him. He was down by the shore, with his little
trousers tucked up to his knees. By a long'twine he was letting his
boat Gypsy sail towards the ocean. His mamma was quite sur-
prised. She led Johnnie quickly home. What do you think she
did ? She made Johnnie put on his little white nightdress, and
keep it on the rest of the day. His other clothes were put in the
closet and locked up. All the rest of the day Johnnie kept out of
sight. Once in a while he would peep out from behind the door.
He felt badly when he saw the other boys playing outside.
After he had worn this nightdress two or three times, he did not
run away. He minded his mamma, and was a very good little
I saw him in the little white nightdress one fine afternoon, and
this is a true story. Johnnie is now grown up into quite a great
MRS. E. ORR WILLIAMS.
r, 'I, ..
JOENNIE BROWN S ~ BITE DRE99S
r 6j, ,
very hard to
a little Indian boy. His real name was very long,
spell, and very hard to pronounce. So when he came
BR 0 TWN JOHI.
in to attend the school for Indian children, the teacher gave him the
name of John. Sometimes he was called Brown John, he was so
There were nearly two dozen children in the school. They all
had English names by which they were called while in school.
John was the brightest and prettiest of them all. I am afraid you
would not think any of them were very
TIli t It. ..-,ut -yars old.
I.. 11,- .i, 0 t ,_i:,nm enced
1 ..i v -, of one
S -,ll.i, d could
... ,t .ii table up
,;- ,' t t t e fives.
He could not write his name, but had learned to make a very
crooked J. He could say two pieces of poetry, and was very
proud of it.
I suspect you think he did not know much. But you must
remember he had been in school only a few months.
Brown John was not dull. One look into his sharp black eyes
TOM AND TIHE SUGAR.
would show you that. He could do a great many things which
boys who'know more about books than he could not.
He could run and leap in a way that would soon tire any one but
an Indian. He could make such cunning traps and snares, that the
most cautious birds and animals were caught in them. He could
ride a wild pony without saddle or bridle, and throw himself to one
side so that lie was entirely hidden by the horse. He could shoot
both with a rifle and a bow. He liked his bow best, and could send
his bright-colored arrows to any spot lie wished, and bring down
any kind of game. He could see farther than any white man. He
could name a distant object that seemed to the rest of us a mere
speck. He could also hear very quickly, and would notice a sound
before any one else.
Until he came in to the school at the fort, he had lived all his life
in a wigwam, and done nothing but fish, hunt, ride, and play Indian
games. But since he has been there he is anxious to learn like
white men and do as they do.
TOM AND THE SUGAR.
LITTLE TOM was very fond of sweets. He always ate jam at
lunch until his mother took the jar away from him. When he
had hot milk to drink, he filled the cup half full of sugar. At
Christmas and on his birthday he would say, Don't give me toys.
I'd rather have candy than anything else."
One day Tom was in the kitchen when the grocer's boy brought
in a basket of packages. Tom saw his mother fill a wooden box
with fine sugar, and set it away in the pantry.
Give me some sugar, please, mother," he said.
No," said his mother; I am going to put a stop to your eating
so much sugar. It is not good for you. But I will give you a
piece of bread and butter."
I don't want bread and butter," said Tom, feeling very cross
"Very well," said his mother, going out of the kitchen.
TOM AND TIHE SUGAR.
Tom was left with the cook, who soon went down cellar to skim
the milk. Tom stepped softly into the pantry and raised the lid of
the sugar-box. How nice and white the sugar looked!
"It won't hurt me to eat just a little," thought Tom. So he
seized a handful of sugar and crowded it into his mouth. Just as
he had finished eating it, he heard his mother's step in the hall. He
ran out of the pantry as she came in.
Have you been at that sugar, Tom she asked.
Tom was fr'ight-
ened. He feared he .
would be punished I
if he told the truth ; ee "I ,
so he told a story. .
I was just look-
ing at it," he said. i
"I did n't take a bit."
His mother did
not say anything.
She took him by the
shoulder and led him
into the parlor, where
there was a long
mirror. Tom looked
in, and saw that the
whole front of his N
navy blue flannel
waist was covered
with fine sugar. He
began to cry.
"You see, your
waist told on you,"
said his mother.
"You ought to be punished; but i will tell you a little story in-
stead; for I don't think you ever told me a falsehood before, and
I hope you never will again."
Then she drew Tomni to her knee, and told him the story of
UP CAlE A LITTLE ANT.
George Washington and the cherry-tree. She asked him if he
would not try to be as good and truthful a boy as George. Tom
cried harder than ever, then; and promised that he would never tell
another falsehood; and I don't think he ever did.
FLORENCE B. HALLOWELTI
ONE day I saw some hornets on a bank near our house. I went a
little nearer, and saw a hornet which had captured a caterpillar. He
tried hard to carry him off, when up came a little ant. He looked
at them a moment, and then ran around to the side of the hornet.
With a peculiar jump the ant bit the hornet in the side. The hor-
net did riot seem to mind it very much, and went on pulling all the
harder at the caterpillar. The ant ran around to the other side, and
bit the hornet again. The hornet flew up about an inch, and came
back. He was just going to take hold of the caterpillar, when the ant
bit him in the head, and he flew away disgusted. He left the cater-
THR REVELS OF THE MICE.
THE REVELS OF THE MICE.
Twenty little tricksy mice
.. Dancing at a ball;
-, -One but danced a step awry,
That confused them all.
--T--l- i -",TT.iwenty little partners
I f All mixed up together,
I Very like a flock of sheep
Lost in foggy weather.
Twenty little panting throats
e ___Squeaking with affright,
"DANCING ATA BALL." Puffed the lamps and candles out
Pitch-dark was the night.
Eighty little feet which stepped For just then the faulty one
On each other's toes; Squeaked out in high glee,
What the end then might have been "I could make the step aright
Not a creature knows, If I could but see!"
Blazed up all the lights again-
What a pretty sight !-
Eighty little twinkling feet
Once more dancing right.
Each one found his partner, ,: .''
Wove them in and out; .
Pussy came to see the fun-
What a sudden rout! t-
Twenty flying, startled mice, '
Eighty scudding feet; '
Twenty peals of laughter gay
Baffled pussy greet.
Danced they in the moonlight then, I --' '
Till fair dawn of day;
Why Miss Puss ne'er found them out 1"PuSSY CAME TO SEE T/In FUN."
No one seems to say.
"Wake up! wake up! Old Santy has come
With oceans of goodies and toys!
Wake up! wake up! the chiming bells
Proclaim our festive joys."
From cellar to attic the riot begins;
Up and down, up and down, their voices ring,
Their bright eyes glance, their sweet lips meet,
And over and over the song they sing:
"Ah jolly Old Santy, you've come once again
With gifts for your girls and your boys!
We greet you, we love you, we speed you away,
For millions are waiting your joys!"
Shout on, happy hearts, hearts pure as the snow;
Shout on, for the years their measures will bring,-
For the bright eyes tears, for the sweet lips sighs,-
But now, 0 merrily, joyfully sing:
"Santy has come again, Santy has come,
The silvery bells are ringing;
We'll crown him with holly and mistletoe,
And give him a joyous greeting!"
-ELIZABETH A. DAVIS, IN OUR LITTLE ONES.
[ n- :
II1 .. ,
THE LAZY PUSSY.
THE LAZY PUSSY.
There lives a good-for-nothing cat,
So lazy it appears,
That chirping birds can safely come
And light upon her ears.
And rats and mice can venture out
To nibble at her toes,
Or climb around and pull her tail,
And boldly scratch her nose.
Fine servants brush her silken coat
And give her cream for tea;-
Yet she's a good-for-nothing cat,
As all the world may see.
SIMPLICITY OF LOGIC.
SIMPLICITY OF LOGIC.
Max is four years old and bonny,
Sharp as bee-strings, sweet as honey.
Full of little quips and wiles,
Baby frowns and baby smiles;
Doffs his hat to any stranger,
Squeezes Pussy, kisses Ranger;
DOFFS HIS HA T TO ANY STRANGER.
To be brief, has all the arts
That run away with people's hearts.
And my little lad chops logic
Like a grown-up pedagogic,
Only simpler; thus he reasons;
What is good befits all seasons;
SIMPLICITY OF LOGIC.
If a thing is true, it's true,
Whether said to me or you.
Ah! might grown folks solve their puzzles
Without putting thought in muzzles.
Well, his mamma gave instructions,
But he made his own deductions.
"When you've something nice to eat,"
She said, "and company to treat,
Serve the first your little playmate,
Put the largest piece on her plate,
And keep the smallest; don't forget,
A gentleman must be my pet."
Max went to Marian's next day.
Programme: The cake; then after, play.
At home once more, his mamma tender
Said: "Well, dear, did you remember
And give the largest piece of cake
To Marian?" Pause; then outbreak:
" Why, mamma, you fink I know nuffin?
Oh, I geth I 'members sumfin-
"'Give company the largeth piethe,' you thaid,
An' I had cake, an' she had bread;
An' I wath company; of court
I had the largeth piethe of both."
His mamma smiled, for logic won;
She failed to scold her little son.
But ever after this, she tried
To keep logic on her side.
zr iI a 7 4,
:---_*---=- (-,; -H'is
OUR CHILDREN'S PARTY.
OUR CHILDREN'S PARTY,
AND HOW IT WAS MANAGED.
My little sister S
out the invitations.
doves flying in one
ybil was eight on the first of January, and I was to
be sixteen on the nineteenth; so mamma
said we should keep the two birthdays
together by having a children's party on
the nineteenth. One condition only she
made-that I should draw up a programme
of amusements for the evening, and under-
take the arrangements of our little party
without troubling her. She promised to
provide the tea and supper, but all the
games and procedure of the evening's
entertainment were to be my doing. So
first of all she gave me some money in
Y hand for invitation-cards, programmes,
etc., and very busy we were one whole
Saturday afternoon writing and sending
We got some pretty tinted cards with little gold
corner, and wrote out-
Miss Joan and Miss Sybil Brune
Thursday, January 19th.
to 8P. M.
R. S. V.
Great excitement followed in watch-
ing for the answers, and little Sybil
was highly delighted when notes of
acceptance came, and I had to read
them over and over again to let her
know "zackly" who was coming. Of
course we had several refusals; the
little ones had measles or colds or
something disagreeable, and my party
dwindled down from forty to thirty. WEiRTING THE INVITA TIONS.
Ages ranged from five to eleven. I secured three girls of my own age
OUR CHILDREN'S PARTY.
and two boys of seventeen from among our friends to assist me in the
maintenance of order, and to help me with the games.
As the children arrived nurse stood ready to receive them at the
library door, now turned into a cloak-room, and the eldest of each
little party (or nurse of the very little ones) had a small round ticket
given her with a number written on it; this was attached to a silk
cord which she could slip round her neck and so be sure of not losing
it, and no confusion occurred amongst the wraps, coats, shoes, etc. on
their departure. Then they were marshaled into the dining-room, and at
a quarter-past four (for they were all
very punctual in coming), we sat down
Sto a very plain but pretty tea-table.
SMamma had provided sweet bis-
cuits, brown and white bread-and-butter
cut thin and rolled up so that the
little fingers need not get greasy,
Sf*efi '/ sponge cakes iced with pink and white
.sugar, sponge fingers, gingerbread nuts,
Si etc., with tea, coffee, and plenty of
Smilk. When tea was over the hitherto
silent tongues began to chatter, and
S__, we asked Miss Drew to play a lively
march tune; this she did, and each
boy then took a girl and marched arm in arm in step downstairs to
the breakfast room, which was cleared for the purpose. We had decorated
the walls with pretty fireplace fans, and the fireplace itself was quite a
work of art, being ornamented with ferns, grasses, and a bright-colored
muslin curtain drawn on one side showing a Japanese screen above the
No fire was in the room, but it was well lighted with gas, and warm
curtains were hung over the door and windows.
The children all wondered why I had six chairs in a row in the
middle of the room, but I soon showed them what I was going to do.
I chose six girls and seated them on the chairs, and sent six little
boys out of the room, and told my young ladies each to choose a boy
anA tell us who it was.
OUR CHILDREN'S PARTY.
Outside the room Robert, our big boy friend, told the boys when I
rang the hand-bell that they were to go in one at a time and each kneel
at the feet of any little girl he thought had chosen him, and when he
came out, if wrong he was not to tell the others to whom he had knelt.
Then poor Roderick Gray was the first to go in and kneel down,
and was soon driven out by the hisses of the players and onlookers. It
was great fun watching the shy way in which the boys came in looking
askance to see if a gleam of recognition might tempt them to kneel at the
feet of a "fayre ladye." As the game went on some of the girls grew
bold and mischievous, and an ap-
pealing look often drew the small
knight toward them, to be hissed
again if unsuccessful, but when they
did choose rightly, the clapping from
all was quite deafening. That over,
we started tape and the ring for the
very little ones. About twelve stood
in a ring holding their hands over
a piece of tape on which a small
curtain ring was threaded, and the
game was for them to slip the -
ring along from one to the other, a
child standing in the center trying ;^' ^^^ fy" t^
child standing in the center trying EACH BOY THEN TOOK A GIRL AND MARCHED
to catch it as it rapidly slipped . DOWNSTAIRS."
from hand to hand. Whenever the ring was found, then that child in
whose hands it was captured went into the center and the other fell
into the ranks again.
While this was going on "musical chairs" gave great amusement
to the elder ones. Miss Drew played a quick, bright tune and stopped
suddenly at intervals, taking them unawares, so that they hardly got
time to jump on to a chair, and the laughter and merry shouts showed
their evident enjoyment.
Mamma and papa came in to see the fun, and agreed that our
games were very successful. It was now about six o'clock, and we
assembled them again for a march twice round the room and up the
middle, leaving the girls ranged one side and the boys opposite for
OUR CHILDREN'S PARTY.
the "Swedish dance," and that I think is so well known and such a
favorite that I need not describe it. The children soon entered into
the spirit of it, and it was such a pretty sight to see them all kneeling
down clapping their hands to the time of the music, while one dear
dainty little pair tripped merrily down, the girl in the middle holding
the boy's hand as he skipped along outside the kneeling children.
We then let them rest a few minutes, whilst my two friends, Miriam
and Mortimer Mills, went round with baskets of crackers, Then Sybil
took another basket containing tiny fans, and to each girl she gave
one; and Roderick did the same, giving each boy a fan matching those
Sybil had, and the cotillon began by their trying to match their fans
and at once skipping off with a partner.
After this colored ribbons were
introduced. Miriam and Morti-
mer both wearing jockey caps of
bright colors distributed these,
and Miriam leading or driving
r- J the boys and Mortimer the girls,
,.j' went two or three times round the
room to the crack of a whip and a
merry tune, and then each girl
paired off with a boy whose ribbon
matched with hers.
SHISSING AND CLAPPING." "Vanishing faces was one of
the most popular variations of the
games. Two chairs were placed in the center of the room and a couple
of girls took their places on them, each holding a small mirror in her
hand. The boys then came behind, and looked into the glass. If the
maiden disapproved of the youth whose face she saw reflected she
rubbed the mirror with her handkerchief and he had to retire, and give
place to some one else, and so on till she was satisfied, when she laid
down the glass and gave the successful cavalier her hand, another girl
taking her place.
We had animals and birds-" Noah's ark animals" in fact-and they
caused immense fun, to say nothing of the children's pleasure in
carrying off the toys on their departure.
OUR CHILDREN'S PARTY
At a quarter-past seven o'clock Sir Roger de Coverly was called for,
and after it was over we marched up to supper. Words are wanting
to describe the prettiness and lightness of this. The table was gaily
loaded with masses of ferns and flowers, high silver candelabras,
color and greenery everywhere. A lovely Twelfth night cake with lots
of pretty ornaments on it, and the inside not a plum but a delicious
rice cake, perfectly harmless to the tiniest amongst us. Sandwiches,
chicken, jellies, custards, blanc-manges in all colors, and pretty looking
biscuits, grapes, figs, oranges, chocolate drops, and a little box of sugar
candy and Turkish delight on every plate. Crackers with fans, scent
bottles, pencil-cases, tablets, book marks,
jewelry, and last, but not least, in a
gorgeous-looking cracker, a Jubilee six-
pence to every little boy and girl. I can
not tell you what delight this last gave,
and what exclamations of surprise there
were! for papa had not told us of his
intention, and we knew the difficulty of .i..,: ,
getting them. Supper over we trotted T;': 1''. I
the children off to nurse to cloak and
hand them over to their respective nurses, /
and we rushed downstairs to await papa
and mamma and Uncle Stephen, and hear
Papa said that, judging by the shouts
he heard when he came home, he thought they must be enjoying them-
selves. Mamma kissed me and said, "My great pleasure has been in
seeing Joan forget herself in her endeavors to please and amuse her little
So ended a day I shall long remember as being one of the brightest
and happiest I have ever spent. Sybil was quite content to say "Good-
night" when her little friends departed, and next day she was as lively
and merry as usual, and talked not a little of our party, and how she
.... ............~..... ........./
THE LITTLE YEAR.
A pretty boy, with tumbled curls,
And dimples soft in either cheek,
Who lays his finger on his lip,
And looks at me and does not speak,
But smiles with eyes serene and sweet
To see me kneeling at his feet.
A little prince, who needs no crown
To show him lord of all the earth,
Who comes, unbidden, to my door,
And sits beside the silent hearth,
Two wings beneath his tunic gay,
Wherewith some night to fly away.
A royal child, with th,t to give
Which I am fain to know and see,
Who shakes a soft, unconscious head
When I implore on bended knee,
And will not loose to silver speech
His lips, close curving each to each.
A stranger, in whose dimpled hand
Half-fearfully my own I lay,
Nor know where I must walk, until
His baby footsteps lead the way.
And yet I needs must hold him dear--
Time's youngest-born, the Little Yeart
A TRUE STORY.
OER beautiful pet was called Josephine. She was a collie,' with
soft brown eyes, and had a great deal of sense. She seemed to
understand whatever was said to her, and to have many thoughts of
her own besides.
One day we .
were going to .
send off some of .. -
her pretty pup- _
pies on the train.
with us to the ex- e d..s
press office, and i
saw the little ".- 4
creatures in the
box ready to set
She came home .
with us, but we
soon missed her.
We found that
she had gone
back alone to
take leave of her
Poor Josephine ..
came to us one -
evening in great
agony. She lay at our feet with her soft brown eyes raised, as if
pleading for help. We did everything we could for oar pet. A
cruel man had given her poison.
For three days she suffered tlt, greatest pain, and then died. We
buried her as a friend, and covered her grave with greo-n turf and
flowers. PINK .IUTNTEh.
A kind (if shephernl's dog.
NED'S BLACK LAMB.
N OT l.n .i' litI- N.I I-. l .-1 la- t
of a bi.a k l ..n]. NI. Ii .'ryi i n -
the lan b ] .- 1 1 .. 11; i i, i .i.l .'i ,
to ride, t .ild i
h er ; sl..: iiil'l l.iie- bu t "i :it ;i ti. ,.,
So N ed, anm tl ir ..i .-r. \I..~>.- tuin il
was not, i l. i t .ii* I .i.il
tearful uyuo \vaulii 1'11 an11111111 uLIL Of
Just then a man came into the yard with the lamb. Ned and the
other children did not cry any more, you may be sure.
The black lamb was a very little thing; it had a line of white
about its neck and feet, like a collar and cuffs.
The children called it "a beauty," and a darling," and they
jumped up and down around it for joy. Pretty soon the lamb did
so too, jumping up and down on its little legs, stiffly but joyfully.
It grew very fond of Ned, and would follow him about all day. After
a while Ned's mamma noticed that his hair was jagged and stubby.
Why, Ned," she said, what is the matter with your hair?
"My lambie eats it, mamma," said Ned. Lambie eats it, and
he likes it so much; just as well as hlie does hay! "
This was true: wen the little boy sat with his book, or lay in
the shade, the lamb would come up and lovingly nibble his hair. By
and by lambie grew large, and he took a fncy to dance a stately
minuet on the baby whenever it toddled out on the lawn. So the
minuet on the baby whenever it toddtled out oll the lawn1. So the
NEED'S BLA CK LAMB.
mother had to send him off to the field, some miles from town. Poor
Ned sadly missed his playmate, and his little heart was full of grief.
Some weeks after, when a flock of sheep went by, his mamma
heard him say to the driver: "Please have you a little black lamb
,I --. ---
1 1. D .P. ~ '
N ^ ; ,1 7. 1
with a white collar round its neck? I would like just a little one.
If you have not any black, a white one will do 'most as well "
Even now the family do not talk about the bad ways of that
black sheep," for fear of grieving Ned's faithful little heart.
I MRS. D. P. SANFORD.
FOUR YEARS OLD.
WHAT makes it night? I want to go
'Way off behind the sky and see.
The world's as round as it can be,
Somebody told me, so I know.
You yellow Moon, how bright you are f
Have all the stars been put to bed?
And is it true, as Nursey said,
That you're the baby-stars' mamma
And are they sometimes naughty too?
I cried a little bit to-day;
The tears would come, where do they stay
When people's eyes won't let them through?
My dolly's in the grass out there.
Be quiet, Wind! you rustle so,
1 'm afraidd you '11 wake her up, you know.
Please hush, dear Wind! -I wonder where
That four-leaved clover is that grew
Down by the fence this afternoon.
I'm four years old, too. Tell me, Moon,
When shall I be as old as you ?
The clocks are striking in the town.
Oh, dear I have n't said my prayers.
The little birds, I think, sing theirs, -
I heard them when the sun went down.
Where did it go, and why? Some day
I'll know a great deal more, I guess,
When I'm not quite so sleepy. Yes,
"lamma, I'm coming right away !
... jj :4
2 f. ..".
Z 4";* ; i '
.... -,.. L; .- ;..
DOLLY'S FAN.-A PROCESSION.
Dolly had a silken fan,
Crimson, with a feather border
And she-O, so airily-
Used to sway it from and toward her. .!
Dolly, seated in her pew, *: l'
Many wondering eyes were scanning; q.
Tilting up her dainty chin '
Toward the parson, softly fanning. .
Every little girl in church,-
Pity 'tis to tell such folly--
While the parson preached and prayed, DOLLY,SEATED N HERPEW
Tried to fan her just like Dolly!
They all came trooping past the mill,
Singing Hey diddle diddle! Hey diddle diddle !"
There were Fan and Nan, and Jack and Jill,
And Bess and Jess, and Jim and Will;
Right in the rear ran little Mill,
With eight or nine more in the middle !
And where were they going to down the hill ?
Hey diddle diddle That is the riddle !
They carried sweet flowers that afternoon,
Singing, Hey diddle diddle! Hey diddle diddle !"
And they all trooped on, with hearts in tune,
To find the cow that jumped over the moon,
The dog that barked, the dish and the spoon,
The wonderful cat and the fiddle !
And that's where they went to that afternoon !
SHey diddle diddle! I've solved you the riddle!
A MERCANTILE TRANSACTION.
A MERCANTILE TRANSACTION.
"A pound of jumps!" and I looked in
At little black Rose with her shining eyes. .
"A pound of jumps !-my mother said /
A pound of jumps," and she nodded her
"But, my dear, we've flour, and sugar in '
lumps, ,u mp'
And peanuts, but never a pound of jumps. '
With walnuts and chestnuts, and corn that r., .'
"O, O I forgot it's a pound of hops LTTLE BLACK OSE.
BOSE AND THE PUPPY.
Bose was a large gray dog, that lived at Squire Horton's on the
hill. He was brought there by a Frenchman. The man said he was
poor, and would be glad to sell his dog. So Squire Horton took Bose,
for he was a fine watchdog, and the Frenchman went on his way.
At bedtime Bose was shut up in the kitchen, and told that he must
take good care of the house. In the night Squire Horton was waked by
a growling in the kitchen. Soon he heard Bose give two or three low
barks. Then there was a strange noise, and growls from the dog.
Squire Horton went downstairs with a light, and what do you think
he found? That bad Frenchman came back in the dark to steal his dog.
He raised the window and called softly, Bose! Bose!" But the good
dog growled, and did not come.
Then the man put his head in at the window, and called again,
BOSE AND THE PUPPY.
Bose barked, and seized him by the coat. He held him till Squire
Horton came. Don't you think Squire Horton was very proud of Bose
that night ?
Bose lived on the hill for many years. One night Squire Horton
heard a puppy crying in a field near the house. Bose heard him too,
and in the morning he ran out,
and was not seen again until
At supper time he came
Back, hot, tired, and hungry.
Squire Horton told
him he was a bad
dog to run off. But
he gave him some
supper. Bose wag-
ged his tail, winked
his eyes, and crept
off to bed.
The next day a
farmer drove up to
door, and said:
"Squire, what a
good dog Bose is.
He brought my lost
/ puppy home yester-
S- day. I saw them a
S mile off from my
house; and Bose
)IA Y was smelling his
BOSE. way along the track
which the puppy
took when he ran away the day before. He must have gone over twenty
miles before he found his way to my farm." Then Bose walked up and
wagged his tail for joy.
And what do you think Squire Horton did ? Why, he gave Bcse ,
real nice dinner, and one bone more.
DRESSING MARY ANN.
DRESSING MARY ANN.
S .. She came to me one Christmas Day,
/ '-' In paper, with a card to say:
" I "-[ L (li .
S"From Santa Claus and Uncle John"-
/And not a stitch the child had on
:: /.." ,,, i, ,
3 '- .'
"I'll dress you; never mind!" said I, i IIi '
And brush your hair; now, don't you.
cry. :i '- -
.''^.1, '_;.'. 1"- --.o
I' '" -- '1 -
Then I bought a pair of shoes
A lovely dolly's number twos."
DRESSING MAR Y ANN.
Next I made a petticoat;
And put a chain around her throat.
- _1I -,, -"
Then, when she shivered, I made
And cut her out an underwaist.
", -.. ,. '
Next I made a pretty dress.
It took me 'most a week, I ess.
Then, when she shivered, I made
And cut her out an underwaist.
Next I made a pretty dress.
It took me 'most a week, I guess.
DRESSING MAR Y ANN.
- .. I "' ]! :.
;, *I' '.- ; "2--- '. '.' ,' 1 I,'; .
" -I' i, ..t. .
And t Ih I trimmed ae y A nI
Oh ', ho weet s'hi :lo inII -., ,
And then I named her Mary Ann,
And gave the dear a paper fan.
T 'h I h-
ri n'1~b: 1 '-?
.." .. . I i '-
f I.P' '
Then I trimmed a lovely hat-
Oh, how sweet she looked in that.
_. ._,- Y....
Next I made a velvet sacque
That fitted nicely in the back
And dear, my sakes, that wasn't al.
I bought her next a parasol !
A WORD TO MOTHERS.
She looked so grand when she was dressed
You really never would have guessed
How very plain she seemed to be,
The day when first she came to me.
-MARY MAPES DODGE.
A WORD TO MOTHERS.
Would you know the baby's skies?
Baby's skies are mother's eyes.
Mother's eyes and smile together,
Make the baby's pleasant weather.
Mother, keep your eyes from tears,
Keep your heart from foolish fears;
Keep your lips from dull complaining,
Lest the baby think 'tis raining.
CHRIS'S STRANGE TALE.
CHRIS'S STRANGE TALE.
Pat Moore's home was next door to Chris Grey's, and great friends the
two were, though Chris was eight years old and Pat was but six.
Mr. and Mrs. Moore had gone up to spend a few days in town, and
Mrs. Grey said she would be glad if Pat might come in each day they were
gone, to have tea with Chris. He came in the first day at four o'clock, and
when tea was done he and Chris went off to the schoolroom to play. They
did noc rompi much went to Mrs. Grey's
this time, for Chris / at three o'clock, and
had a new book, )4 as it was so nice and
which had some nice warm, Chris went out
stories in, that she with him to the
read to Pat, and when g grounds at once.
she came to the end The tea-bell rang
of one of them they I at five, but they did
had a long talk. I not seem to hear it
can't tell you yet and as they did not
what it all meant, but come in Mrs. Grey
when it was time for I told the maid to go
Pat to go home she to the hall door and
put her hand on his ring it there.
arm, and said, "Mind, But still this did
Pat, you don't tell not bring them home
your nurse a word of and the maid went
our plans." "1 MID PAT, YOU DON'T TELL YOUR down to the fowl-
The next day Pat NURSE." house to look for
them, but they were not there. As time went on Mrs. Grey was infear lest
some harm had come to them, and she sent down to the town, in the hope
that she might hear of them there.
The cook said there had been a queer kind of man round at the back
door at four o'clock, and strange as the thing was, the thought came to Mrs.
Grey's mind that he must have had in some way to do with the loss of Chris
The news soon spread through the town of the loss ofChris and Pat, and
all who had time to spare and did not need to stay at home, went out to join
in the search. but for hours this was made in vain.
CHRIS'S STRANGE TALE.
Mrs. Grey did not know what to do. She did not like to send to tell Mr.
and Mrs. Moore, and give them a fright, when it might be their child was
quite safe, and would soon be found. Mr. Grey, too, would not be at home
till quite late, and she had no one to help her to know what was best to be
done. She could not sit still, but up and down the path she went, too full of
grief to weep, and the sun sank down in the sky, and dusk came on.
At last she heard the tramp of feet, and she knew that a small crowd
,were on their way to the house. She felt so sick with fear and dread of
*what kind of news they brought with them that she did not seem to care to
go down to the gate, but she stood where she was, by the trunk of an old
oak tree, to wait for the news.
At last the news came; the soft breeze brought the sound of a voice, and
what it told her made her fall, as if she were dead, at the foot of that tree.
Yes, for a great joy strikes one at times much in the same way as a great
grief, for the words that came on the wings of the wind that night were the
good news, They are found, found, found!"
And the crowd came up the path to go to the house; in front of it was
the man who had found Chris and Pat, and he held their hands and led them
on. As he went by the tree he caught sight of the white dress that Mrs.
Grey wore, and stood still. Chris saw it too, and with a cry of dread she ran
and flung herself on the grass by her side. Some of the crowd now came up
'M help take Mrs. Grey to the house. She was in a faint, but soon came
round, and her first glance fell on Chris and Pat.
But such a strange Chris and Pat they were, for their cheeks were now
quite brown, and their clothes full of rents, and great mud spots on them.
It was a strange tale that Chris had told those who found them : how a
man had come up to them when they were down at the fowl-house, and caught
hold of them, and put a cloth in their mouths so that they could not cry not,
and when they had gone on a short way, he put some stain first on Chris's
lace and then on Pat's, and after that he made them walk on a long way, and
meant to take them to a wagon, but he met some one who spoke to him, and
then he left them.
When Mrs. Grey heard all this, she said, Oh, you poor mites, what a
iribt- you must have had! and drew Chris close to her to give her a kiss.
Oh," said Chris, it is not true; it was all my fault ; I did it for fun. I
iade Pat's face all brown, and my own too, like a story I read last night in
CHRIS'S STRANGE TALE.
my new book; then we went to the prairie, and lost our way, and when I
found such a crowd came out to look for us I did not like to tell the truth,
and I thought, too, you would be cross with us."
It was a great grief to Mrs. Grey to think her child could make up such
a story, but she saw what shame Chris felt when she told the truth of it to
those who found her and Pat, and brought them home.
For a long time Chris could not bear to go out for a walk, for the boys in
the town would call out such rude things to her. She found out, too, how
hard it was for a long time to get her friends to trust her, but I think this
shame has done her good, for she now dreads to say a word which is not
- -. -- -. -
-~~ ~ -_'-. -, ^ ; > :^ ***._ .
WAITING FOR BREAK FAST.
. t.11- ii-; 11li-- 'l Il ,
W lome ,:. o'er .. er. to me. ]
W ,I-'ll ti, l ti -. 1. t1 -." ,t 1 -:.11,ti _
A- r], ;,- w ,:-* in -. 1 111:,', ..1,,ll. _" ,
Ou r J iii.r i,,11 -ill.- l,:-r ai lk-
"' ',, ill .:', *.. ,rii fl :, ,:': i fin 'I,-',
S 11 t I I]-.- I .k \v.- ,it,
F -,r i ,: -Iil i,- 1 i u _-I,
A1 l.1 't ik, 'I'.-tti ,_ lit,.
Tlaiqy white and Ruby red,
Come o'er here to me.
4A iIILKING SONG.
" Coming, coming, coming,
'T is no ye 'd have to wait,
But see I'm here already
A-standing by the gate;
Daisy white, my heart's delight,
Just hearken now to me.
Dreaming, sleeping, eating,
Through the quiet night,
Yet ye keep me waiting
Now I 'm full in sight.
Ruby red, and Daisy white,
I call ye all to me.
" Going, going, going,
I 've stayed here far too long;
'T is little use my singing
When you 're deaf to all my song.
But though you graze in pastures green,
Ye '11 want me back ere long, I ween;
And then ye '11 low for me.
Going, going, going,
'T is growing far too late:
I vow I '11 stay no longer.
Ahl! Now they 're through the gate.
But, Daisy, Duchess, Ruby, May,
I '11 pay ye out another day
For making fun o' me!"
MRS. A. M. GOODHART.
1lli.V~i k a~iU
\ ,r- ~
~/~,ii .~~i~ t
and grave and quiet in his behavior. To be sure, le would chase
wildly after a ball of yarn when Flora ,. it. And e would
ing her with h .alf-sh lilt eyes. Ani ol proverb says, Still waters run
"I would like to know what becomes of my cream!" This was
opened their eyes at her in surprise. .. What do you ean
ma ? askd Bessie.,
BAD StR MaOSES.
SI" MosEs was called a modtherl itten te was nice in his habits,
and grave and quiet in his behavior. To be sure, lie would chase
wildly after a ball of ynrn when Florst come down,it. And put ie would
scamper fast enough down the garden hal beid his little akmifas-
tress, Who can havlee as ite ?n. But most f the time he was
very still lie w. The pitcher wa's lap, or littleay pon thine ug w watch sall
neck. One fact was very strange oe. Thover says, no marktill wof terms ea on
deep." leerlsias the mnl wlo wrote it knew a cat like Sir Moses.
ThereI wasould lia gre to deal no what becomes of my creabout" This was
what mamma Painter said at the breakfast table. The children all
opened their eyes at haer in surprise. "hat dor you ean e
marmma" asked Bessie.
SWhyS," replied her mother, I bring in the cream in this little
pitcher every morning, when I first come down, and put it on tlhe
table. Now for three mornings it has been half gone by blreakifast
time. MWho can have taken it ? "
Nobody knew. The pitcher was an odd little thing, with a small
neck. One fact was very strange. There was no markl of cream on
'e edges of thle pitcher.
There was a great deal of wonder and talk about this curious loss
of the cream. It happened again the next morning, and the
morningo after that. On the third day Bessie was heard shouting,
" Ah, you rogue, I have caught you at last !" And so she had. It
BAD SIR MOSES.
vas that meek Sir Moses. When the pitcher was put upon the
table, he waited till he was left alone. Then he leaped upon the
table, and put his paw in the pitcher. You may be sure it did not
take him long to lick the cream from his paw. Then he dipped
again and again, till he heard somebody coming. When the person
entered, he seemed to be sound asleep.
It was planned so that the sly rogue could steal no more cream.
That night nurse Katy heard Flora add to her prayer: 0 God,
please forgive Sir Moses, for he did n't know any better !"
W. H. W. CAMPBELL.
GEORGIE AND THE GEESE.
GEORGIE, do you want to go to the orchard with me while I
hang up the clothes ? "
"Oh yes, yes, Barbie," said Georgie, clapping his hands. He was
always glad to go
'.-.* to the orchard with
., some one; but he
N -I i- \was afraid to go
S. alone, he was such
a little fellow. He
felt sure Barbie
Should take just as
Good care of him
Sas mamuma always
a,.5, did; but when the
.clothes were hung
: up, Barbie went to
I u..'l the house without
sayiiong a word to
.I u 1 |eorghie.
The little boy
.. 4, very soon found
Sand set up a loud
J ,- cry. This drew
.. the attention of a
flock of geese, who
,grass linear by, and
they all came
around him. No doubt they wondered what small thing it was that
stood so still and made such a noise. It could n't be a goose, though
Georgie was not much 1i;-._.r than a goose, and, you may think,
acted much like one. Was it something good to eat
They quacked to each other these questions, and then they began
GEORGIE AND THE GEESE.
to nibble his fingers. Georgie's cries grew louder and his tears fell
faster, and oh, how far away the house seemed, and there were no
windows looking out upon the orchard! He would run, but he was
afraid the geese would knock him down with their wings. If he
stood still he was afraid they would eat him up, and mamma would
never know where her little boy had gone to.
Oh, he must get home to mamma; and giving one great, big,
frii l I I..ll, II -I tai t -i i rail, expl,- -,t- | .~ J
j ,i-_ itI, i.:,\t i ,m :.li t t,, f,., tth str.,! t'; t-- I t- -:'-'- 1
white win-gs beating hin to the ground; -
but to his great surprise the geese made no objections to his going,
and he was soon showing his bleeding fingers to mamma and telling
the story of his wonderful escape. Mamma listened, and ki-sed the
little finger-tips and bound them up carefully. She rocked her little
boy in her arms and sang to him. The geese in the orchard went on
quietly nibbling the grass. They had forgotten all about him.
MARY A. ALLEN.
IN THE PUBLIC GARDEN.
WaEN Rose was three years old, she was walking one day in the
Public Garden with a grown-up friend.
"I want to sit down," said she, by and by, I'm so tired !" It
was so late in the season that all the seats and benches had been
taken away. But there was an empty flower-vase near, and her
friend lifted her into it.
You can sit here and rest," said she.
"Now," said Rose, "I'm a little flower."
IN THE PUBLIC GARDEN.
After waiting awhile, her friend asked, "Shan't we walk along
now ? Are n't you rested ?"
"Walk along!" repeated Rose. "Why, don't you see, I'm a
little flower, growing in a vase!"
"Very well, if you are a little flower I will pick you and take
Oh," cried Rose, but you are forbidden to pick flowers in the
Public Garden, you know! "
MARY N. PRESCOTT.
-- -- -- 2 -- --
-- 1'' I I ', '
----- .'e .. l ,
-, S.. :-, _-.- i:../ .
UNCLE GEORGE was going to camp out, so Ted and Will wanted
to try camping out too. Their mother said they were too small to
go off to the woods by themselves, but they might have a little tent
put up at the edge of the orchard. They thought that would be
splendid, for they could play the orchard was a great forest.
Uncle George put up the tent for them before he left. They
named it Orchard Camp," and put up a flag so it would wave over
They had a very busy time taking their things down to the camp,
for they were to stay three days if it did not rain. They were to
sleep there, too, but Uncle John was to stay with them at night.
They hauled their things down in their cart In the last load they
took their provision.
Their mother had baked them some cunning little cakes and bis-
cuit. They had crackers, dried beef, and cheese, a large bottle
of milk, and a cup of butter.
The boys had a fine time that night. Uncle John came about
dusk. He built a fire to keep off the mosquitoes, and they sat
around it while he told them a story. It was about when he camped
out and killed a bear.
They were so tired, they had to go to bed early.
Their mother and cousin Will made them a visit the next day, and
stayed to dinner. They brought some fresh milk and a basket of
lunch. They had a merry time. After they had gone, Uncle John
came and took them down to the creek to fish. They caught five
fish. They cooked them for their supper.
The next day they had a grand surprise. Their mother invited
their cousins Charlie, Fan, Millie, Rod, and Nora to spend the day
with them. The boys did not know about it until they came. Then
what laughing and talking there was They had a picnic that
lasted all day.
When Ted and Will broke up camp that night, they said they had
had a splendid time. AUNT FRANCES.
Ir- .--4m 2* .* -;I
THE COW THAT SAID "PLEASE."
FREDDIE was a sad little coward. He always wanted mamma to
sit close beside him when he was going to sleep. One night, when
he called for his usual go-to-bed story, mamma told him this one:
"Once upon a time there was a lady who had a little boy, and one
night she said to him, 'Now if you will be brave and go to sleep
all alone, I will pack a trunk, and to-morrow we will go out to see
Uncle John and Aunt Bessie.'" That was the shortest story she had
TIIE CO IW THAT SAID PLEASE.
ever told him, but Freddie thought it the nicest, for he guessed in
a minute who the lady was and who the little boy was. He thought
so much of the good times coming, that he was not afraid, and the
first thing he knew, it was bright morning.
They got out to the farm just in time ,
for dinner. Freddie could hardly stop
for that, though, he was so impatient
to go out to the barn to see all the
Aunt Bessie hurried her dinner,
so as to please the little boy.
She took him first to call on the
cow. Her name was White-
foot, and she thought it was
about time she had her din-
ner, so she said, "Moo !"
very loud. Such a loud
noise, coming from such
a great big creature,
and he began to
ing a great
him by telling him
that Whitefoot was
she wanted her -
told mamma afterwards that he would like that cow better if she
would n't talk so loud.
A GOOD-NATURED BEAR.
Whitefoot seemed to be quite as much surprised at Freddie's big
noise as Freddie was at hers, and she didn't talk any more. Aunt
Bessie patted her nose and gave her some cornstalks. After a little
while, Freddie grew brave enough to feed her with some of the
Every day Uncle John gave him a ride out to the garden in his
wheelbarrow, and back again on top of his load of cornstalks.
Whitefoot soon began to expect the little boy; but now, instead
of being afraid of her talking, Freddie was very particular that she
should be polite and say Please every time that she wanted her
J. A. M.
A GOOD-NATURED BEAR.
LITTLE Carl, his father, mother, and little sister, lived in the far
West, where there were very few people or houses.
Near their house was a thick woods. One day Carl, though
his mamma had often told him not to do so, thought he would
take Allie into the woods to see if he could not find a hobby-horse.
He knew a hobby-horse was made of wood, though he had never
Seen one. In a childlike way he reasoned that if they were made
of wood, he could perhaps find one in the woods. His papa had
promised to buy him one when he went to the village, but Carl felt
that he could not wait.
A GO OD-NATURED BEAR.
They wandered hand-in-hand into the woods. They saw so many
pretty flowers, and found such sweet berries, that they almost forgot
the hobby-horse. Suddenly Carl shouted, Here, Allie Here is
our hobby-horse at last, and a real live one, too Is n't he cunning ?
Come quick, and hold him till I can get on."
hpdhv It rezlIv
Wa1 a (o 0-r 0tur d little twiijie l.,(-r. HI-It I.
%A \ i twa rm lis l 'his & lik l l.. t Ac il-
Alle tn--d to hi.l hm 1i^--bv thilt. till (Ald
w SII s t a; i gr thI at lio r lit-tli. f ittil-
way h, rule inelud qiLiUt long enliJUgh lor I'arl
to scramble on his back. He got seated, and
was thinking what a nice ride he would have. Just then a loud
scream from his mother, who had come in sight, caused the bear to
scamper off in a fright. He went so fast that poor little Carl was
tumbled upon the ground.
WHAT BECAME OF THE DOLLS.
Mamma was so glad to get her children home safe that she did not
punish Carl for his disobedience. If he had not i .1;-...., ..1 her, he
would not have had that big lump on his forehead which he got by
falling from the bear.
After that day Allie always felt sad and worried when her papa
went out to hunt, fearing lest lie might shoot the runaway horsey.
She liked the bear because he was so nice and sleek, and didn't
mean to hurt Carl, after all."
WHAT BECAME OF THE DOLLS.
A CERTAIN little dolly dear,
With hair as black as ink,
And eyes of painted blue, so clear,
You certainly would think
A bit of sky had tumbled down,
And lighted up her face.
She never had been known to frown,
And always kept her place,
WHAT BECAME OF THE DOLLS.
Till one day a strange
dolly came, -
She had the blackest
And it was said, much to
She told such dreadful
At all events, she paid no
To what they both were
In naughty things she
took the lead,
She was so very bold.
She coaxed the blue-eyed
Far down a rocky shore;
It grieves me much,
such things to
They never were
But on the sands, at
ebb of tide,
Their little hats
And so'twas known
how they had
The dollies both
ELIZABETH A. DAVIS.
THE day was very dark. Little Meta was lonely, for her mamma
was out. She was wondering what to do, when who should come in
but Miss Louise.
Miss Louise was a young German lady, so pleasant and kind that
every one loved her. She knew many pretty stories. She had
travelled in many countries, and she a:', i-y, had something new
or bright to tell children.
Oh, dear Miss Louise cried Meta, running to her, please
amuse me "
The young lady thought for a moment, and then she said, Did
you ever hear the bells of Cologne ?"
"Why, of course not," replied the little girl. But I have seen a
picture of the Cologne Cathedral in my apa's Rhine album. My
manmma has some Cologne water in a big bottle."
Miss Louise laughed. Wait two minutes," she said. "Be very
patient, and when I come back you shall hear the bells of Cologne."
She left the room, and soon returned with a large silver table-
spoon.' Then she took a piece of cord about a yard long and tied it
in the middle, in a hard knot, around the slim part of the handle.
She turned up the cloth so that the edge of the table was exposed.
She next asked the wondering Meta to hold out her two forefingers.
Around these she wound the ends of the cord.
"Now put those two fingers in your ears," she said, and swing
the spoon so that the bowl will strike the edge of the table."
- -- --. ~"~9~9Rl~i~a~ar~a~---- -
THE BELLS OF COLOGNE
SMeta obeyc 1.
"Oh, bells she
S, cried; "beautiful.
T'. -S 5" deep-sounding
church bells! How
wonderful and how
S sweet! Oh, Miss
Meta liked it so
well that she would
have gone on swing-
ing the spoon for an
hour, but her friend
good -stopped her after a
b few moments. Meta
ran off to get the
Rhine album to
show the picture of
the Cologne Cathe-
dral. Miss Louise
related many curi-
ous and interesting
thli,,- it it, so that the afternoon
,,- ,,1 ,,1t -..y quickly. W hen the
c. y-n! I -,-1, ,mwnt away it was time to
St .it, --. 1 I..r tea.
I ,1., ii m little girl has had a
i,.ull th;, ,t it," said her mamma,
i. --, ..'.me in from her long
,-.e. i-- its been such a gloomy
S C i,_-,. _,mamma Miss Louise
S1,H.*. SI I'- as good -- or 'most as
good as sunlight. After tea, if
you'll let me, I'll show you and papa what she showed me, how
to hear the bells of Cologne. May I ?"
HOW A MOUSE WENT TO SCHOOL.
Certainly, my pet."
But Meta couldn't wait until after tea. When they sat down at
the table the sight of the spoons made her so impatient that her
papa and mamma thought she had better get it off her mind. So
she showed them then, and they were both delighted with the bells
~-, -_ : 'II
getting ready for school. They had to walk a mile. Arthur said,
"Hurry, Jennie, or we shall be late." Jennie wanted her coat,
which was in a dark closet under the stairs. She found it on the
floor. My careless little girl must hang her coat up," said her
Jennie put it on, and ran after Arthur. When they reached the
school-house the teacher had her shawl on. Our stove smokes,"
said she, wiping her eyes. Keep your coats on, children, until
the room is warm."
Jennie put her mittens in her pocket and sat down. When school
was out, she put her hand in to take out the mittens. Jennie cried
out, Oh, oh i and the teacher ran to her.
There is something warm and soft in my pocket," said Jennie.
I can feel it move."
Let me look," said the teacher. And sure enough, there was a
1HO TVA MOUSE WENT TO SCHOOL.
dear little mouse cuddled down in one corner! He had heard the
children read and spell. He had heard them sing. He had heard
them say the Lord's Prayer. Perhaps his bright eyes saw them all
standing up with their hands folded.
h i i -. .. -
now, and you can
see him at Jennie's home. The children feed him every day.
The mouse is very fond of music. When Jennie's sister plays the
piano mousey is very happy. Jennie has taught him to play with a
little ball. It is about as large as a marble. He rolls it about. He
tosses it up in the air and carries it in his mouth. Jennie says lihe
must go to college one of these days.
Mousey looks very wise as hlie sits in the door of his little house.
When children visit Arthur and Jennie they always want to see
" the mouse that went to school."
-' -- :~ ~-= '"' !. ,
24 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ i:'c ,;2'j,5- "- -- .
,,.- ...., 4 .., ,. .
T I, ,'IIF i :,lt;
hi, :~;:, i ,., i,,,:.:..l,-r,- ..c~~~~IJ 8 -- -.~~lt~~J
m ,_ ,-] t ,? i,,- -"
1 -t: i :
;' the mouse that went to schooll"
HOW SALLIE SCOURED THE LITTLE BLACK GIRL.
ONE day grandma said to Sallie, Dinah's little girl is here.
Can't you show her your dolls ? "
Sallie was glad to have a little girl to play with.
Pretty soon she came back and said, Why, grandma, she's black "
Well," said grandma, she's a good little girl."
But I'm afraid of her," said Sallie, she's so black."
But Dinah's black."
Dinah's a grown-up woman," said Sallie. "I didn't know that
little girls were black."
She is as well-behaved as if she were white," said grandma, "and
you can have a nice time playing."
So the two children went to Sallie's room, where the dolls were.
My name's Sallie ; what's yours ? asked the white girl.
"Marionette," said the little black girl.
Then they began to play house ; but Sallie suddenly said, "What
makes you black ? "
I don't know," said Marionette.
Won't it come off if you wash it ? "
"No," said Marionette.
"Did you ever try soap and sand? asked Sallie.
"No," said Marionette.
Then let's try," added Sallie. She brought a basin of water and
some soap and sand and began to rub Marionette's hand.
I guess I'll try your face," she said after a while.
Marionette was a little afraid in the strange house, and had not
dared to cry, but now the soap got into her eyes and the sand into
her mouth, and she began to scream with all her might.
"What are those children doing?" said grandma to Dinah; and
they both ran upstairs.
There was Marionette crying as loud as she could cry; and there
HOW1 SALLIE SCOURED THE LITTLE BLACK GIRL.
was Sallie looking as frightened as Marionette, for she had not
meant to hurt her. She held the basin in one hand, and the water
was rumning over the floor. The
i I i... i i ,
Sallie that Marionette's skin was made black ; she could not make
it white any more than she could make her own black.
Sallie often laughs about scouring the little black girl; for this is
a true story, and Sallie is now a grown-up woman.
EVA M. TAPPAN.
Ou, the sparkling eyes,
In a fairy ring!
Ruddy glows the fire,
And the corn we bring.
Tiny lumps of gold
One by one we drop;
Give the pan a shake, -
Pip! Pop! Pop!
Pussy on the mat
Wonders at the fun;
Merry little feet
Round the kitchen run.
Smiles and pleasant words
Never, never stop;
Lift the cover now, -
Pip! Pop! Pop!
What a pretty change!
Where's the yellow gold?
Here are snowy lambs
Nestling in the fold;
Some are wide awake,
On the floor they hop;
Rink the bell for tea !
Pip! Pop! Pop !
: I.'" n t I I
HI. .*It von
d Id II E. t1.. J. .- for-
Si _,how grasshouJtppi, a, ni d buo Lbuzz ?
Do you know how the wasp builds its
aper nest ? How the cricket beats its little tambourines all night
long? Or how the tiny ant builds such wonderful houses, some of
them many stories deep?
The ugliest worms, too, will change by and by to most beautiful
butterflies and silvery moths.
A ll ii, .t : i,: 1 I -it Ii
ski is '4 E
^^ ^ 11 i ^11.1 ^j^?-
-. has been cut into rings which
S move easily upon one another.
Yet they are as solid : ind strong as animals which have
a great many bones.
Instead of lungs and blood-vessels like ours, they have curious little
breathing places all along their sides. They have small air veins
which are filled from these and make the whole body light.
MRS. G. HALL.
THE Aztecs, the people who ruled Mexico four hundred years ago,
were very clever. They could copy any object in nature that they
saw around them. Frogs, birds, leaves, ducks, lizards, serpents,
foxes, wolves, and dogs, of all these they made images in gold, sil-
ver, clay, and stone. Many of these they adored as gods, but most
of them they used as ornaments. The Spaniards, who took their
country from them in 1521, wondered at their skill. They said that
no silversmith in Spain could make such fine work.
But what they most admired, and what they had never seen before,
was the feather-work. Even the old soldiers, who had passed all
their lives in war, were struck with its beauty.
When the Aztecs were conquered, nearly all their beautiful arts
were lost. They soon forgot how to cut precious stones, and how to
mould silver and gold, for they were made slaves of, and had to
labor in the fields. The art of making objects in feathers is about
the only one they have kept and passed down to the present time
from father to son. Even this they are very careful not to show to
strangers. They work in secret, and carefully guard it from sight.
When in Mexico I tried hard to find out how they made the lovely
birds on cards, which they offered for sale on the streets. A friend
took me to the house of one of these artists. It was a little hovel,
where he sat on the mud floor and toiled. But when he heard us
coming he put away all his work and would not let us see it.
He was an Indian, with brown skin and black, straight hair. He
wore ragged clothes, and had an old blanket to keep him warm at
night. Poor as he was, no money would tempt him to show us the
secret process he had learned from his father, which had been kept
in the family for hundreds of years.
FEA TER PICTURES.
Great skill is required to produce a perfect picture. First, the
Indi- n trqapc onl tbhe oRrd the oult.lines of
H it l,,,. 1, .. ti,, li ,it i ,: i .-t I,. .ugh
f.,, th,.. f, .,,-c t,, ,, ]Th, ,, be-
4- -t 1..: i pt m .-- t h e on
., l, ,, -, I, ._, -. th e
-,. ). I i itly.
I', i .,itI- I,- 1 i; t. cret
A, ,: ,- i ,. I 1. and
0 c t 1 ,. ,Ai, other
-h11 n.'h t i 1.,i"l that,
... ,,lu ihi t. .
lookl-- th.-lh it
milt'1 -1 t"..
m a ,1.. -. i* -,; .
glass beads, and
the bill and feet are painted so nicely
that they appear to be part of the bird.
Then he paints a twig or branch for it to
rest on, or makes one from a feather, and
his work is done.
The finest pictures are made from the
b]nilht feacthers of the humming-bird.
These are found only on the throats of
these living jewels, and it takes several
birds to yiehl feathers.
SIX YEARS OLD.
enough for o-n picture. When in the sun, or strong light. the feath-
ers glow hke bright gems. They gleam like rubies and emeralds, and
seem like live birds perched in the sunlight of their native tropics.
As works of art, these feather pictures are admirable. As the last
remains of a gifted people, they take us back to the storied past.
FREDERICK 4. OBER.
-^ S ^ ... "f,.' Ir.. ,- ~
SIX YEARS OLD.
WHAT do you think, doll Rosa ?
Look sharp at me, and say !
What do you think has happened ?
I'm six years old to-day.
Yes, this is why my dear mamma
Has dressed you up so gay,
And brought you here to visit me,
I'm six years old to-day!
You see how fast I'm growing ?
Oh, I forgot, you know,
That you had only met me
An hour or two ago !
I've grown a year since yesterday!
My papa told me so.
I'm sure I didn't feel so tall
A day or two ago!