• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Frontispiece
 Happy holidays
 Back Cover






Title: Happy holidays
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00089031/00001
 Material Information
Title: Happy holidays a book of pictures and stories for little folks
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : ill. ; 26 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Thomas Nelson & Sons ( Publisher )
Publisher: Thomas Nelson and Sons
Place of Publication: London ;
Edinburgh ;
New York
Publication Date: 1899
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1899   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1899   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1899
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
General Note: Contains prose and verse.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00089031
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223770
notis - ALG4022
oclc - 271656849

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
    Front Matter
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
    Frontispiece
        Page 4
    Happy holidays
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
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        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
    Back Cover
        Page 95
Full Text
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PRY


OLIDA YS


A Book of Pictures and Stories

for

Little Folks


THOMAS NELSON AND SONS
London, Edinburgh, and New York


8g99






























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THE NEW PICTURE BOOK.

















ERE comes a nice new picture-book
From Mr. Ink, the printer;
He says it's a delightful work,
Just newly out this winter.
It's full of pets you children love-
Dogs, horses, cats, and bunny-
With rhymes and tales about them all,
Some most extremely funny.
The picture boys'and girls inside,
With merry, laughing faces,
Would like to come and play with you,
If they might leave their places.
But since the artist put them here, \
They couldn't quite politely
Run right away and leave a blank
To make his book unsightly.
Then turn the pages quickly, dear,
And you will soon discover
Your book is full of pretty things
From cover unto cover.





























In the Orchard.


HE apples on the king-pippin trees are to be
1 gathered to-day," said the gardener to his wife at
Breakfast one morning, "and master says you are to
have a basketful, just as you had last year; so send
the children for them."




IN THE ORCHARD.


The children, whose names were Bessie, Tom, and
Amy, raised a shout of joy at this news. And little Amy
said, "Shall we bring the clothes-basket, father?"
No, my little lass," said the gardener, laughing, "that's
too big. We mustn't be greedy."
"Father," said Tom, "we need not fill the clothes-
basket; but we might bring it and give Amy a ride, and
carry the apples as well."
"All right," replied the gardener; "but mind now,
don't bruise the apples, for bruised fruit won't keep."
So the children started for the orchard, and took the
big basket.
When little Amy saw the great old apple trees, with
their branches drooping under their load of ripe red king-
pippins, she clapped her hands for glee, and said, "O
Bessie, the trees look as if the fairies had hung little gold
lamps all over them!"
"Girls are always thinking about fairies," said Tom
with scorn; good ripe apples are better than fairy lamps
any day, I should say. There's father in the tree now.
He doesn't look much like a fairy."
The girls laughed, and all ran to the foot of the tree.
The gardener came down the ladder and brought a
basket of apples.
He picked out a big rosy one for each child.
Then they put Amy in the clothes-basket, [
with the apples on her lap.
Bessie and Tom each took a handle, and they set off
home; but they had to stop to rest three times on the way.






The Ploughboy's Christmas Presents.


G EORGE was always very kind
Sto the children when they went
down to the farm. He took .them to
'see the pigs fed, and let them ride
I on the big cart-horses. He let them
S. scatter corn for the chickens and peas
for the pigeons. So when Christmas
time was near, Alice said, Mother,
can't we get some presents for George
with our saved up money?"
Their mother was very pleased to find that her little
children were not thinking selfishly, at Christmas-time,
about the presents they themselves would receive; so she
took them to the town in the carriage, and she said, I
will add five shillings to what you have saved. What shall
we buy for George ?"
"I will buy a comforter," said Dickie.
"And I will buy a pair of socks-or could we get two
pairs, mother?" asked Alice; and mother thought they could.
Little Jack said, "I will buy a jack-knife-Sheffield
steel, with two blades."
So these things were bought, and mother added a
pound of tea and a warm petticoat for George's old mother.
And on Christmas morning the children sent the
presents down to George's cottage along with a Christmas
card. I don't know whether George or the children was
the better pleased, but I know that none of the presents they





THE PLOUGHBOY S CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.


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had for themselves pleased the children half as much as
those they had bought for George. And Alice, Dickie,
and Jack now know how true it is that it is "more blessed
to give than to receive."


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dear, lov' nlruc< there is to do,
'Alyep)you'e a farnily like iriPe ?
JVAy dollies rurrber t&rety-tw-o,
.Ag d opce, J counted We -p~i pe /
Akpd sore are byr a9d sore are srpall, -
/Apd so e are broker opes, 'tis true:
Bjut Well J loe lerp oie apd all,
&e old as dearly as t$e ev.
j7@OV really re'er could suppose
[Ipless you vWork as hard as J
STe tirpe it takes to vasl tIeir cdotres,
-,Apd apry tIber out, apd .9t i~en dry
S/ pd soetirpes too, tle colours rup -
S A/VMy best doll's frock .ot spoilt like t|at;
4 It rfeqt iP streaks 1<*p it vWas dope,
1/A ll slr;pey like a tabby tat,

Sal e ZN bit of scepted soap,
b\ic\ for 9ext v1as rpea9 to sa5e
kA little iro, aqd ad rope -
bA. real rope, VP;cp Nursie ya1e.
Tet) if te pledsast v.i2d /Will blovw,
lAyd if tIe (deerEuI .u5 wvi'l) sipe, ;
you'll see sorpe clothes ,9y all a-roo ,', "
.Apd kpo' I'rp at tkis vash of rpipe .1..







HE DOLLIES" B)TH-nlGHT-

iLNERY SATURDAY I GHT
Y DOLLIES rAKE THEIR TUB1
(,3HeIR FRCES PinK AfrD WHITE
LOOK BRIGHTER FORA RUB,
HAVE A BATH OF Tin;
is. WIDE, ROD DEEP, hnD RounD;
u-r f puVT no WATER. in,
$IOR FEAR THEY MIGHT 6ET


HERES one MADE ALL OF WAX, APD TWO THAT SHUT THEIR EYES
CHIrRA one [rTH CRACKS)
7fD A SAt.DLu5j onE THAT C~lES;
njl IflDIA-RL'E"BEP. mAn,
J7l RAG DOLL RATHER OLm(
W/n}J DRY THED ALL T OAnLD
F 'R YEAR THEY MIGHT CATCH COLD
eACH FROCK 15 FOLDED By
~J fll6HT-6w0) WHITE AnD CLE7f
AR7 ujR0nD EAEH nECK VIE
0~5T CHARMnIG TO Be SEER:
$ nD' BY THEIR BED-SIDE REAR
/ LEAVE; A DOLL'S-HOUS6 LIGHT.,
65N b T ARPY DOLLY DEAR
ECLS- TRIGHTEnED InI THE
nIGHT.







Holding the Fort; or, Brave Dolly.


-H AT was a grand day when we held the fort
behind the old wall. I think all the children in
the village were in that snow fight. We divided
into two armies. Even Ernest, who is only
four, made snowballs for us to throw. But Dolly was too
little even to do that; so we put her in the mail-cart, and
let her hold up the flag. She was very proud of being the
standard-bearer, and no snowballs came near her.
Then when we were stopping to get our breath and to
make some more snowballs, one of our side shouted out,
"The old flag's flying still!" And Johnny, who is
always learning poetry, yelled out something about,-
The flag that braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze."

And then the enemy aimed snowballs at the flag.
Dolly was frightened, but she held on: We pelted
away as hard as we could, and stood in front of Dolly and
the flag; but some one must have thrown a snowball from
the side, for suddenly we heard Dolly scream, and we cried
"Pax!" and ran to her. A snowball had hit her in the
mouth, and the tears were running down her face with the
pain. But she had kept tight hold of -the flag. That's
what I call pluck.
We stopped the fight to give three cheers for brave
Dolly, and I think she deserved them.















































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DEFENDING THE FLAG.


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The White Rabbit.


'- I'VE a little white rabbit that lives in a hutch;
I I love it and pet it, oh, ever so much!
,I When it nibbles its food and it waggles its ear,
SI think there was never a bunny so dear!

I feed it with lettuce and juicy green stuff,
Until I am sure it has had quite enough;
Then I stroke its soft fur, and I shut the door tight,
For fear it should try to get out in the night.

And sometimes I loose it and take it a run
About in the yard in the warmth of the sun;
And it scampers and hides, and I call it by name,
And up it comes running, quite friendly and tame.

Clever Bertie.
HERE was once a wicked witch who, because
she had such a big, rough, ugly beard, was called
"Madam Beardy." Now, Madam Beardy had
an unpleasant habit of picking up children as she
walked about the town, and popping them into the big
basket which she always carried on her arm. She would
take the children home with her; and what became of them
no one ever knew, but they were never seen again.
One day little Bertie Barford purposely put himself
in the witch's way. He said that he wanted to see what
her house was like. So he let himself be caught and















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THE WHITE RABBIT.


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CLEVER BERTIE.


carried off. When the witch reached her home and un-
covered the basket, Bertie, who was very small, managed
to hide himself under her beard, and to slip down while
she was not looking. He arrived safely upon the floor,
and hurried to a dark corner of the room. Watching the
witch very carefully, he saw that by waving her stick over
the heads of the other children she changed them at once
into red birds. These she shut up in a large cage with a
number of others. After doing this she went to bed.
As soon as Bertie heard the witch snoring, he took
up her stick very quietly, and crept towards the cage.
"Perhaps," thought he, "if I were to wave this stick over
the birds they would become boys and girls again. I'll
try it, anyhow." So saying, he waved the stick. Immedi-
ately the birds became children. "What a lucky guess!"
cried Bertie joyfully. But he soon checked himself
"Hush!" said he to the others; "we must not make a
noise for fear of waking the old witch." He led his
companions out of the house, and bade them run as fast
as they could to their several homes. Then he walked
home himself, holding his head high in the air as one who
had. done a smart thing.























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Our Tea=Set.


UR own .little tea-set is china-
'Twas mother's when she was a girl;
t/It's painted with little pink roses,
It's shiny like mother-of-pearl.
And when we have tea in the garden,
We drink from our own little set;
And tea from our cups is far nicer
Than all other teas that we get.
When father comes tired from the city,
Then mother runs down to the gate,
And brings him to tea in the garden,
From a pearly cup, saucer, and plate.

We wash them ourselves when tea is done,
And so far we've not broken one.


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Out of Sorts.






F arms and legs hang loose and limp,
And golden locks refuse to crimp,
i There's but one answer to the question-
*'" Poor Dolly Dumps has indigestion.

Come, tell me, mother, what she eats-
She looks a doll that's fond of sweets.
Perhaps she spends her pocket-money
In jars of jam or pots of honey.

Ah, well, to make her nice and strong,
I'll send some chocolate pills along.
One at a time, please, mother, give her;
They're sure to act on Dolly's liver.

I'll send also for Dolly's hair
A little lotion-but, beware!
And do not leave it on the table;
You'll know it's POISON by the label.










KA Wet Day.

lpo HE first thing you
do on a wet day is
to look out of the win-
dow. When you see
how wet the roofs look,
and how unhappy the
lamp-posts are that have
to stand always in a row with nothing to do in the day-time,
it somehow makes the nursery seem drier and pleasanter
than ever. For you see then that to be happy on a wet
day you must first be dry-very dry indeed.
And the street is so interesting to watch.
When the postman comes to the door he is walking
very fast and leaning forward, and the water spouts off his
waterproof cape as he stands on the step. The green-
grocer's boy wraps a sack round his head and shoulders
before he jumps off the van, and he comes through the
gate looking just like Robinson Crusoe in his goat-skin
suit. And the poor horse's head hangs down, and he looks
so wet that you would like to take him into the bath-room
and rub him dry with your bath-towel.
When you are tired of looking out of the window, and
every fresh wind that comes throws more rain against the




A WET DAY.


panes, and you see that the weather will never be finer for
hours and hours, then is the time to settle down to a really
nice long play.
To play at sea-side" you must say first of all whether
the long hearth-rug is to be the sea, and the rest of the
floor the sands, or the other way round. Only, if the hearth-
rug is all the sand you have, there will be very little room
on the beach. Perhaps it is best that the rug should be
the sea, for on the beach there are many things to be done;
but if you once decide this, you must never step on the
rug again, or you will be drowned.
Then you all take off your shoes and stockings, for we
never wear shoes on the beach.
Where the beach is pebbly, you must scatter all the
dominoes and bricks and the pieces of the picture puzzles,
and these will hurt you just like real pebbles, unless you
walk very carefully over them; so, as you have to walk so
carefully, you will not break any of the dominoes and
things.
At the beginning of a wet day, children who ask very
politely can almost always get something nice given them
from the dining-room side-board. If you are going to play
"sea-side," ask for figs and biscuits, and go down to the
dining-room to ask for them before you have taken off your
shoes and stockings, or you may be told to put them on at
once, and while you are putting them on, mother will for-
get about the figs, and tell you that you must not keep on
coming downstairs when every one is busy.
The one who gets the biscuits and figs must bring them




A WET DAY.


upstairs without nibbling one of them, and arrange them all
in a shoal on the rug, which is the sea. Every one, of
course, will be very hungry when these fish are seen
swimming about in the waves, so the best thing to do is
to begin at once to catch a few for dinner. You sit in a
row on the beach before the rug with the hooked sticks
and umbrellas that you must remember to bring from the
hall when you go down to the side-board. When you have
sat fishing for some time, one of the fishermen must say,
"Ah, we shall never catch anything again, and we are
starving." Then all at once one of the fish is caught, and
you hook it gently off the rug, and shout, Hurrah it
weighs forty pounds; it must be a shark or a monster
haddock." Then you haul it in, and every one else had
better be allowed to catch one fish each, and to haul it in
like the first, every one shouting, Hurrah for dinner at
last!" Then you carry your fish up the beach, and cook
them before a fire; for now, for a little while, you. can be
people camping in Africa, which will be a pleasant'change.
You can go back to the seaside when everything is eaten,
unless shme one wants to be a lion smelling the dinner
and coming suddenly out from the forest under the table.
This is a very good game, but it is nicest for the
lion.
If you go back to the seaside you can have the band
at the end of the pier, with seven chairs put together, and
the band on the end chair. There must be two for the
band-one with the comb and paper to play tunes, and the
other with the tea-tray for noise. Then the others can walk









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FOR A WET DAY.


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A WET DAY.
up and down the pier and do polite talking till they are
tired.
The fire-shovel makes a good spade for one; but the
others always want it, so perhaps it is better not to take it.
Then you can build a sand-castle with the bricks, and
the tide will come up and wash it down when two of you
take the table-cloth by the ends and drag it slowly along,
like a wave, till it reaches the castle and sweeps it away.
You can play at hunting for crabs by putting all the
sofa cushions on the top of some one. Then you feel in
the cracks for the crabs, and the one inside will nip your
fingers just like a real crab. But it is best to put a girl
under the cushions. Girls do not pinch so hard.
If you have anything left to eat you can play at rafts;
but then the carpet must be the sea, and the hearth-rug
the raft, and you can be starving mariners. Weigh out the
provisions with the doll's-house scales; and if you weigh a
very little at once, the time will pass very quickly, and be-
fore you are tired the rain may have stopped, and the sun
may be-shining brightly again.


A VERY WET DAY.


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Doctor Kitty.
K .ITTY WHITE-
"". PAWS sat in
front of the diing-
room fire thinking.
She was not purring,
Sas she usually did, for
S. she was a very sorrow-
ful little cat indeed;
she had lost her little
mistress. Kitty had
searched for her high
and low, but she was
nowhere to be found.
There was only one
room she had not
been able to enter,
and strange to say it
was the night-nursery.
Nurse had kept the
door so closely shut
that it was quite impossible to creep in. Still Kitty was
almost sure she couldn't be there, because she knew well
that the night-nursery was a place to sleep in, and little
Miss Maijory couldiz'/ be asleep all this long time.
"I believe she has another pet up there," mewed Kitty
discontentedly. "I expect she is tired of you. and me,
Goldie. Ungrateful little thing, after all we have done for
her!"




DOCTOR KITTY.


Now neither Kitty nor Goldie, the canary, had ever
done a great deal for Marjory-indeed it was all the
other way; still Kitty felt she must say something. She
jumped upon the table and went as close to the canary's
cage as she could get, just for a little sympathy; but the
housemaid came in and chased her away, and called her a
" naughty little cat."
"I didn't want to eat him," mewed Kitty indignantly,
but she was sent scampering away, and felt more angry
than ever.
At last she made up her mind that she would run away.
" No one wants me," she thought. I'll just try once more
to get into the nursery, and if I can't find Marjory I'll
run away.
So up-
stairs she
went, and as ----
luck would '
have it the
nursery door
was open
only a very
little crack;
but pussy
squeezed in,
and there she
saw Marjory.
But oh! what -
a different little Marjory from the one Kitty had seen last.




DOCTOR KITTY.


Her cheeks were white and thin, and she seemed to be
fast asleep. I wish I hadn't been angry with her,"
thought Kitty regretfully, and she jumped upon the bed,
and touched Marjory's cheek softly with her little paw.
Nurse came hastily forward to take Kitty away, but mother
stopped her and pointed to her little girl. Her eyes were
wide open now, and she was smiling.
She put out one feeble little hand, and tried to draw
her pet towards her; and Kitty understood at once, and
cuddled down in bed beside her, purring loudly now.
And so the two fell fast asleep together, Marjory
sleeping on and on through the long hours, and Kitty
lying contentedly beside her.
"If only the little cat doesn't move and waken her,"
said mother, "the sleep will do her all the good in the
world."
"I wouldn't waken her for the world," purred Kitty.
When at length Marjory awoke
she seemed more like her old self
again; and the doctor, when he
came and heard the story of that
long, health-giving sleep, declared
.T } that it was Kitty's doing, and that
she was a better doctor than he.
So Kitty came to be called
"Doctor Kitty," and a very happy
little cat she was on the day that
Marjory came downstairs for the
First time.






The Days of the Week.


M ONDAY'S child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for its living,
And a child that's born on the Sabbath day
Is fair and wise and good and gay.



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Friskie.


( i? :, H dear, what a sad little lamb he
was Friskie was left alone in
the world when only a few weeks old,
fe -/ '. and had not Nannie and Bessie nursed,
fed, and tended him well, there is no
saying what might have happened to him.
Directly his poor .mother died, Nannie carried the
bleating wee orphan into the house, and with much care
and patience tried to feed him.
But Friskie shook his head whenever the feeding-bottle
came near him, and baaed as plainly as possible,-
"I don't want that nasty hard thing; oh! oh! I want
my mother."
"But, my poor darling lamb, your mother is dead,"
cried Nannie with tears in her eyes.
"And you must try and take some milk," said Bessie,
"or you may die too."
Then Friskie seemed to understand. And between
them Nannie and Bessie taught him how to bring himself
up on a bottle. As soon as Friskie found out how good
it was, he brightened up, sucked and sucked away, and
began to take quite a different view of life.
And it may seem strange to you, but still it is a fact
that as the weeks went by Friskie could not bear the sight
of a sheep. He used to baa, and run away when he saw
one, while he adored little girls.
And all sorts of trouble arose from Friskie's love of




FRISKIE.


Nannie and Bessie. They had to steal out at the back
door, so as to get away to school without Friskie knowing.
And once when they were asked to their aunt's to tea-it
was only the next farm, certainly-when they got there who
should come bleating after them but Friskie.
auntie, may he stay ?" said Bessie pleadingly.







,










-He's the quietest little dear in the world," said Nannie.
So Friskie was allowed to stay. That was the first
time he had ever been out to tea, but it was not the last,
for he seemed to go wherever Nannie and Bessie went,
and shared their enjoyments. And they would carry him
into the fields and feed him while the sun was shining, so
that Friskie was not very badly off for an orphan after all.




The Little
i Y^ Fish.

HERE were some pretty fishes swim-
~ m / ing about in a big glass globe in a shop.
Steenie had fourpence to spend, so his
mother let him buy one, and he took the
/ &I / fish home in a little glass. The pretty
little thing gleamed like gold as it swam
round, and round, and round the little glass.
"What is he looking for all the time?" said Steenie.
"For little insects and worms, and perhaps for his
friends," said mother.
That night Steenie's head felt heavy, and he kept crying,
"Tish-ho tish-ho tish-ho !" His throat felt sore, and his
legs ached. He was ill with a bad cold. Many, many
days he lay in bed, and when he got up again and dressed
he was not allowed to go out. And. all the time the little
gold-fish swam round, and round, and round, looking for
something he couldn't find.
"I want to go out, mother," said Steenie.
His mother bought him cakes and fruit, and his father
bought him a new rocking-horse, and never came home
from town without something nice for his little lad.
But still all Steenie's cry was, "I want to go out."
Every day Steenie fed his fish with crumbs, and even
with bits of cake. He never forgot to give him fresh water
and green water-cress Twhich his mother brought. What
makes him open and shut his mouth and lie at the top on
one side?" said Steenie.




THE LITTLE FISH.


The fish feels ill," said his mother. He tries to say,
like you, I want to go out,' but he is dumb, and cannot."
"I don't want my fish to go away," said Steenie. Do
you think he will die ? "
"I think the poor fish suffers pain, and will die soon."
Steenie sat thinking, but said nothing. If you put
3




THE MAY QUEEN.


him in the pond in the garden, would he like that?" he
said slowly at last.
Yes, he would like that," said mother.
That afternoon it was sunny, and Steenie was better;
so the doctor said, He may go out for a little, up and
down the dry gravel walk in front of the house." Oh, how
glad Steenie felt! All the nice things, all the toys, could
not make up for being cooped up in one small room.
In his hand he carried the little glass, and he poured
out the water and the fish into the little clear pool, with
the fountain in the middle, where father's ferns grew. The
fish was so glad that he jumped for joy, though he could
not say "thank you" in any other way.
"He does not go round, and round, and round now,
always looking for the things he cannot find," said mother.
" Look! the other little fishes are making friends with him;
he has lots of room to play about in, and just the right sort
of food among the moss and weeds."


The May Queen.
N cloudless splendour the sun went down
On the child at a garden gate;
Her little hands were all worn and brown
L With toiling early and late.
Bess is so pretty, thought little Nell,
And Mary so merry and gay,-
"Oh, I wonder," she said, as she went to bed,
"Who'll be Queen of the May!"





THE MAY QUEEN.


Bright and early woke little Nell:
'Twas surely music she heard-
'Twas surely voices she knew full well,
Or was it an early bird ?
"Wake, little Nellie-awake-awake !"
Rang out in the air so gay;
"Wake, little Nellie-we've come to make
And crown you Queen of the May!"

So it is not Bess with her pretty face,
Nor Mary, the laughing elf,
They've come with the May Queen's crown to grace,
But Nellie,. her winsome self-
Nellie, so gentle, and kind, and sweet;
And the lads and the lasses say
There never was seen, on the village green,
A bonnier Queen of the May.






Little Miss Muffet.


ITTLE Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating of curds and whey:
There came a little spider,
Who sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away.


Little Jack Horner.

SITTLE Jack Horner
Sat in the corner,
Eating a Christmas pie;
He put in his thumb,
And he took out a plum,
And said, What a good boy am I!"


Little Jenny Wren.

AS little Jenny Wren
Was sitting- by the shed,
She waggled with her tail,.
And nodded with 'her head-
She waggled with her tail,
And nodded with her head.






















































































LITTLE MISS MUFFET.







The Spider and the Fairy.


N E of the fairies who live in our green-
house had a dreadful adventure the other
day. She had just spent a very tiring
hour in teaching a bell-flower to open in
y O5j) the pleasant sunshine, and she sat down
to rest on a scented geranium leaf. A fly
was buzzing a pretty fairy tune not far off,
-, and the little fairy fell asleep to the music.
She awoke with a start; the music had
stopped. A great shadow had come be-
tween her and the sun. She tried to
move, but her feet were tied. She turned her little head,
and saw the poor singer fluttering weak gauze wings in the
web of a giant spider; and the spider had spun his strong
web round the fairy too as she slept. Now the spider
came close to her, his eight legs all quivering with rage.
"I know who breaks my webs and lets the flies out," he
said, but you won't break this web. I'm going to eat you."
Then you won't want that fly," said the fairy. "It's
a pity to have too much to eat in the house."
"That's true," said the spider, and he let the fly go.
"Now I'm going to eat you," he said.
The fairy had been spreading out her pink dress while
the spider spoke, and now she said,-
"You don't mind my taking my dress off; it's a pity to
waste it. It will fit my little sister, and it's not nice to eat."




THE BUCKET AND THE WELL.


"All right," growled
the spider; "take it off.
But I shan't give it to
your sister; I shall wear
it myself."
The fairy had got
,one foot free by this
Time. She took off her
pink dress, and sud-
denly threw it over the
spider's head. While
he was entangled in it
she got the other foot
free, and spread her


7S=----


wings and flew away. :':: -
But she had to leave
her little shoes behind. --,
her, and these and the
dress were all Mr. Spider had for his breakfast. Served
him right!
The Bucket and the Well.


" OH, you poor
day is over, for
mended, so I
you.


thing," said the bucket to the well, "your
I have a big hole in me too big to be
cannot bring up any more water from


Oh, don't trouble about me," answered the well. "I
have known a great many buckets. I shouldn't wonder if
I outlived them all."







The Little Fern Gatherers.


F ATHER was ill in bed, and mother could not leave
him to go out to work. But there was no more
money left to buy food. What was to be done ?
"They say the visitors down at St. Longus will buy
wild flowers and ferns," said Nancy, the eldest girl. I'll
get some early to-morrow, and take them down."
And Dick said he would go too.
So ere sunrise the two were out gathering foxgloves,
and yellow flags, and purple loosestrife, and meadow-sweet.
Then they tied them in bunches with some of the feathery
grasses.
"We will get some of that pretty fern which grows in
the bog," said Nancy. "If you take off your shoes and
stockings, Dick, you can reach it easily."
So Dick splashed in, and dug up several roots, and they
put them in a basket. Then they trudged away to the
town, which was eight miles off, and planted themselves at
a corner of the market square where all the visitors passed.
Buy my flowers ?-buy my pretty flowers ? cried,
Nancy. "Only a penny a bunch!"
Presently some one came and bought a bunch, and
then another, and by two o'clock all the flowers were gone;
but nobody seemed to care for the ferns.
How much have we got, Nancy?" asked Dick.
"One, two, three," Nancy began counting-" twenty-two
-three-four. O Dick, two shillings Isn't that fine?"




THE LITTLE FERN GATHERERS.


Let's go home," said Dick. I'm so tired and hungry.
Nobody wants these stupid ferns."
"No; let us wait a little longer," said Nancy, and she
began to cry in her clear voice,
Ferns, pretty ferns, only twopence a root! Just then


an old gentleman came along, and hearing her cry, glanced
at her basket. Then he stopped suddenly and stooped down.
"Hallo!" he said, poking with his finger; "where did
you get these-eh ?"
He spoke so sharply that Nancy was frightened. She
fancied the old gentleman thought she had taken them
from some garden.




THE LITTLE FERN GATHERERS.


Please," she faltered, "they are just wild ones."
"Wild! I should think they are," he snapped. "Here!
I'll buy them all; and if you will show me where you got
them I will give you five shillings. Why, it is one of the
rarest ferns in England, and I had no idea it grew at all in
this part of the country."
Weren't they glad they had stayed! They showed the
old gentleman where the fern grew, and told him about
their sick father. In spite of his snappy ways he was very
kind, and came to see their father, and took such a fancy
to him that when he was better he made him one of his
gardeners; for the old gentleman was rich, and had a big
estate. Nancy and Dick were so impressed with the value
of ferns-which the old gentleman loved above all other
plants-that they set to work to learn all about them, and
how to grow them, and by-and-by their ferns were the finest
and the rarest in all the county.






The Fairy's Work.


H E fairies live a busy life:
They teach the moss to grow,
They teach the seed to be a plant,
They teach the bud to blow.

They paint the buttercups with gold,
They crimp the daisy's frill,
They teach the jonquil how to dance
Beside the daffodil.

They crown the rose the queen of flowers,
Of day and of delight;
They crown the jasmine's hair with stars,
For she is queen of night.

The fairies have so much to do
To keep the gardens gay,
They find the summer's hardly here
Before it's gone away.
Then, when unkind old winter comes,
The loving fairies go
And tuck the flowers up safe in bed
With coverlets of snow.
And when the spring is here again,
The fairies undertake
To find the little sleeping flowers
And kiss them till they wake.





Little Mother.


SDEAR me! it's quite astonishing
How much I have to do,
With a house to keep in order,
And growing children too.
Se y Life's full indeed of ups and
downs-
I'm always on the stairs;
And when I get to sit a while,
The clothes need such re-
pairs.
The Chicks.
THE chicks all run when i .;
Mary comes -
With apron full of corn
and crumbs. :!,, -,-
They know her merry
voice too well
To ever need a breakfast '
bell. 4- _- ..

Dolly's Ride.
DON'T be frightened, Dolly dear;
Carlo makes a splendid horse.
You will soon find, never fear,
Riding quite a thing of course.
Sit up straight- and hold on
tight,
Then you're sure to be all right.







The Little Milkmaid.

SWEET Mary at the dairy
farm
Will every morning go,
To get for little boys and
girls
Warm milk to make
them grow.


The Farmer's Boy.

OH, wouldn't it be charming
If we could go a-farming;
If we could plough and sow,
And make the gold corn grow;
If we could reap and bind it,
And thresh it out and grind it,
And make bread brown and
sweet -
For hungry folks to eat!


745



When she has filled her
wooden pail,
She trips across the
grass,
And all the golden butter-
cups
Nod when they see her
pass.


ici
Iln
d~L-,
U'i~E







Running Away.


IfTTLE Hetty was
very sad after
her granny died. She
lived now with an
aunt who was not her
a real aunt, but only a
sort of cousin, and
who had children of
her own, and had no
time to be kind to
other people's children,
and Hetty felt like
Cinderella in the story.
Only there was no
prince for her, and no fairy godmother. At last, one
miserable day, the aunt beat Hetty for breaking a bowl
which one of the other children had really broken. When
the beating was over, Hetty ran out and hid in an out-
house. She hid behind an old saddle, and when they
looked for her they could not find her. And there she
stayed all day, and at last fell asleep. When she woke
up it was very early morning, and one of the horses that
were loose in the paddock had strayed into the yard, and
was putting his nose in at the door to get at the parsnips
Hetty had tried to eat the day before.
It was then that Hetty first thought of running away.




RUNNING AWAY.


She stroked .
the brown n
horse, and -... .
coaxed him to
let her put an .W
old bridle on 3l .. o-
him; and then, ,
by the help of
a broken chair,
she climbed on -_ei
his back and
said, "Gee-up
then."
The brown horse started
off at a walk, and H ett\- Ihad M-
really run away. She imicant .-
to ride ten miles to another
village, where her very own uncle lived; but when she got
to the lane at the end of the farm she suddenly remembered
that she ought not to take other people's horses even to run
away with, so she tied the reins round his neck, slid off his
broad back, and turned him into the ten.-acre pasture.
Then she set out to walk the remaining eight miles.
She soon grew very tired, and was very glad when she saw
a boy and two little children taking a big white horse to
the water. She told them her story, and they were very
kind, and the boy took her a mile on her way on the big
white horse.
It was late afternoon, and Hetty was so tired that she




RUNNING AWAY.


could go no farther. So she sat down on a heap of stones
and began to cry.
There was a sound of hoofs and wheels on the road,
and a cart stopped close to her. She was very frightened,
for she thought they had come to take her back.
"VWhat's the matter?" said a gruff voice.
I've run away," said Hetty, and she told her story.
"Jump up," said the man, still gruffly. "I'm going
that way, and I'll take you with me."
She climbed into the cart, and sat very still beside the
gruff man.
Presently she grew very drowsy, and she thought she
felt an arm round her; but she was too sleepy to be sure,
so she went to sleep.
When she woke there was no doubt about it. There
were kind arms round her, and her own aunt was kissing
her, and the gruff-voiced man was saying,-
She's your own niece, wife, and I found her crying
in the road. Well, keep her, and bring her up with our
own. Thank God, there's enough and to spare for another
little one."
And though her own aunt has often explained to Hetty
how wrong it was to run away, Hetty still does not see
that she could have done anything else. And she is much
too happy ever to want to run away again.






A Very Naughty Little Person.


'M told I'm very naughty-
I almost 'spect I am;
But, somehow, when I shut the door
It's nearly sure to slam.

SCan you tell why my shoe-strings break
SAnd tie themselves in knots,
And how it is my copy-books
Are always full of blots?

It seems as if too many blots
Lived in one pot of ink;
But when they're wet and shiny,
They're pretty, don't you think ?

Why does my hair get tangled?
What makes me talk all day?
And why don't toys and books just try
To put themselves away ?
I think that p'r'aps I mzgzt be good
A little, by-and-by.;
It's very hard, but sometimes
I almost 'spect I'll try.

But now they say I'm naughty,
And p'r'aps it's nearly true;
There are so many naughty things
For little folks to do.
4







Poor Uncle Tom.


S~E seemed a funny old gentleman,
the children thought, but still
Rather nice, especially when he brought
those sweets out of his pocket and let
them dip into the bag and take what they
T liked. They had seen him walking through
/ the wood, and then when they left off playing,
he had come to sit down beside them, and
asked them their names.
"Mine's Hugh, like father," said the eldest; "and this
is Lily, and this is Tom."
The old gentleman looked a little quickly at Tom.
"Who is he named after?" he said.
The children's faces grew grave.
He is named after poor Uncle Tom," said Lily in a
low voice, "who went to sea and was drowned."
There was silence for a minute. Then the old gentle-
man spoke again,-
So poor Uncle Tom was drowned, was he?"
"Yes," said Hugh. His ship was lost, and everybody
was drowned, 'cept two or three that got in the boat, and
Uncle Tom wasn't among them. Father waited and waited,
but it wasn't any good. So then he put up a monument
in the church just where we can see it 'from our pew."
"And we always sings about the saints of God on
his burfday," said Lily, "and father cries a little."





POOR UNCLE TOM.


"No, he don't!"


said Hugh indignantly.


" Father's


a man, and men don't cry !"
"-But he does," said Lily.


"I saw a weeny little tear


on his cheek this morning, for to-day is Uncle Tom's




POOR UNCLE TOM.


burfday, and his voice goes all shaky like, 'cause he was
so fond of poor Uncle Tom, and says he was so good."
The old gentleman sat silent, staring hard at the ground.
"Is it long since Uncle Tom went away?" he said
at last.
"It is ten years," replied Hugh. "It was the year I
was born."
"Ten years-so it is," murmured the old gentleman-
"only ten years, and it has seemed like a hundred."
The children -looked at one another surprised.
Did you ever know Uncle Tom?" asked Hugh
curiously.
Yes, I knew him well. I was on his ship."
"But you aren't drowned!" cried Lily.
The old gentleman smiled.
No," he said, "I wasn't drowned; I got off safe.
Uncle Tom used to talk to me, though, about his old home,
and one day he said that he had carved his name on a tree
in the park, and I was to go and see it if I ever got home."
"Oh, I'll show you," said little Tom. "It is on a
beech tree close by here. I'll show you. There it is."
He pointed to a tree on which some initials and a date
were cut deep into the bark.
It has kept very fresh," said the old gentleman. I
thought it would have been grown over by now."
Father always comes and tidies it up on uncle's birth-
day," said the boy. See, he is coming now I'll go and
tell him you are here.-Father !" he shouted, running off-
" father, here's a gentleman who knew Uncle Tom!"





POOR UNCLE TOM.


But when father came near and saw the old gentleman,
he stared at him for a moment as if he had seen a ghost,
and then he gave a great cry.
"Tom, Tom, it is you yourself!"
And it was Uncle Tom, who had not been drowned
after all, but when the ship was wrecked had managed to
get ashore to an island, and there had lived on the fish he
caught, and birds' eggs, and cocoa-nuts, watching for a sail,
like Robinson Crusoe. At last the sail came after ten long
years. And when he reached England he did not write,
but came down to his old home to see who was there, for
of course he had heard no tidings all the time.
Nobody recognized him at the village, for the tropical
sun had burned his skin brown, and the long waiting and
the sorrow and the hardships had turned his hair white.
Only his brother knew him by his eyes, for they two had
loved each other very much.
But what will father do with your tombstone ?" said
Lily gravely, as she sat on her uncle's knee that night.
"It is such a pretty one, with a beautiful angel on it!"






> ~ i


0. A Snow
Man,




O H, the beautiful snow!
We're all in a glow-
Nell, Dolly, and Willie, and Dan;
For the primest of fun,
When all's said and done,
Is just making a big snow man.

Two stones for his eyes
Look quite owlishly wise,
A hard pinch of snow for his nose;
Then a mouth that's as big
As the snout of a pig,
And he'll want an old pipe, I suppose.

Then the snow man is done,
And to-morrow what fun
To make piles of snow cannon all day,
And to pelt him with balls
Till he totters and falls,
And a thaw comes and melts him away.






















V: '




4











..........








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-74M c&L~~Wt\'U~


--Au


FINISHING TOUCHES.














'- C'


Not Such Fun as
it Seemed.


i"- BSN'T it fun, Dolly?" asked Eric, as he and
his little sister ran along the sea front as fast
as their sturdy legs could carry them.
Eric was the jolliest little boy imaginable,
but, unfortunately, a little bit too fond of mis-
Schief, and Dolly was generally only too eager
/- to join in her brother's pranks.
Just now they were running away from nurse, who was
down on the sands with baby. They waited until her head
was turned away, then off they ran.
"We'll go out to the rocks
and play at being shipwrecked
sailors, Eric went on. I've
got some biscuits in my pocket, n
and I'll dole them out, piece by
piece, and pretend we shan't have any more food unless a
boat takes us off."
Poor Eric! his play very soon became earnest, for he



















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ALONG THE SEA FRONT.


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NOT SUCH FUN AS IT SEEMED.


and Dolly waded out to a big rock in a very lonely part
of the coast, and so interested were they in their game
that they never noticed the tide coiiing in until it had
surrounded them, and there vwas no getting back.
They waited on and on, hoping some one would come
for them, and fearing every moment that the sea would
cover the rock, and that they would be drowned.-
It was long past dinner-time, and they were wet through
and hungry and wretched when at last a fisherman, who
had been sent out to search for them, spied the two forlorn
little figures, and rescued them.
They went home hand in hand, very solemn and silent,
expecting to get a good scolding; but instead of that, mother
burst into tears of relief, and both Eric and Dolly felt so
thoroughly ashamed of themselves for having frightened
their darling mother so terribly that it was a very long, long
time before they got into mischief again.


























On The Sands.


T H PE sun is shining brightly,
The seagulls floating lightly,
And the sea is calling, Children,
Won't you come and play with me?"
So ask for breakfast early,
While the waves are crisp and curly,
And come with us to paddle,
Paddle gaily in the sea.







Old Clothes.


T HE sunniest of days, the
Clearest and loveliest of
blue seas, and I, a little lobster,
young, proud, and as lively as a
cricket-that is what people say;
but I can't help thinking "as lively as a shrimp" would
sound better.
I always wear a lovely suit of armour, like those old
warriors you read about. It is strong and firm and well
jointed, so that I can move ever so fast--of course not so
fast as that silly little fish..
He has armour too, he says, but wears it inzszide. That
seems queer to me; I can't quite believe it.
But I want to tell you what a queer thing happened
to mine not long ago. It grew small and shabby, like your
last year's dress; that is why I have called this story Old
Clothes."
Listen. I lived a very happy life out at sea for some
time, till one day I fell into a strange basket-box thing.
There were several other lobsters and one or two
crabs sitting there, looking anxious and disturbed. And
I soon found out that they had need to feel so, for there
was no exit. That means "way out" in plain words.
Our basket was joined to a strong rope, -and that was
attached to a cork floating on the top of the water.
Not long after I had fallen into this basket, which I


























































































THE LITTLE CAPTIVE.




OLD CLOTHES.


now know was a lobster-trap, a boat rowed out from the
shore, stopped just above us, and then we were lifted up,
up, right out of the water, and placed in the boat.
The next thing was a good deal of pushing and knock-
ing about, and then some one tossed me carelessly out on
the beach, saying roughly, Too small for any use."
But some one else thought differently. Another hand
touched me, and another voice said, "Just the thing for
my aquarium.
What that meant I could not even guess; but it turned
out to be the tiniest sea in the world. Steady old limpets,
red anemones, hermit crabs, and shrimps were all there.
It was a very nice home, with plenty of good food, the
only drawback being want of space.
And now the event happened that I promised to tell
you about.
My armour took to hurting me. You will hardly be-
lieve me. We all know that new clothes hurt sometimes,
but old ones!
It grew tighter and tighter. I wriggled about, feeling
miserable. Oh, if only I could get out of this!
At last I grew desperate. This choked, tight feeling
was too much. I gave a tremendous struggle, and shook
myself; crickle, crackle went my old armour, off it came,
and out I stepped.
But, oh, so tender, and so nervous! The shrimps
pranced round and knocked up against me, pricking and
tormenting till I could have screamed.
I crept behind a stone and looked at my old armour




OLD CLOTHES.


half sadly. It looked just like old me, only so still, and
rather as if I had been out in the rain all night and had
shrunk.
Then I glanced at the new me. Well, I was a pretty
fellow-not blue-black any longer, but a reddish pink of
lovely hue.
Some one else took pride in my appearance, for I
heard again a voice say, Look at my lobster; he has cast
his shell."
I hadn't, you know-it was the shell that had cast me;
but these men can't know everything.
The man touched me, but he hurt me almost as much
as the shrimps, and I shrank farther still behind the stone
out of his way. There I quietly lay for some days, till
one morning, feeling braver and ever so much bigger, I
stepped out for an early saunter.
That moment came a voice, Oh, here is my lobster!
How he has grown, more than half as big again !" Down
came the hand as before; and just to show him I was also
half as strong again, I gave him a nip.
He keeps his hands above water now, and me at arm's
length.



'






















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WINTER ABROAD.


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II



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WINTER AT HOME.
5


'7E3P'







The Little Tiny Thing.


.UT in the garden Mary sat hemming
Sa pocket handkerchief, and there
S' came a little insect running-oh, 'in
,such a hurry !-across the small stone
'i table by her side.
," '# 1 The sewing was not done, for
M ary liked doing nothing best, and
r. -., ; lr she thought it would be fun to drop
1 her thimble over the little ant.
l v4 Now he is in the dark," said she.
Can he mind ? He is only such a
little tiny thing."
Mary ran away, for her mother called her, and she
forgot all about the ant under the thimble.
There he was, running round and round and round the
dark prison, with little horns on his head quivering, little
perfect legs bending as beautifully as those of a race-horse,
and he was in quite as big a fright as if he were an elephant.
Oh," you would have heard him say, if you had been
clever enough, I can't get out, I can't get out! I shall lie
down and die."
Mary went to bed, and in the night the rain poured.
The handkerchief was soaked as if somebody had been
crying very much, when she went out to fetch it as soon
as the sun shone. She remembered who was under the
thimble. "I wonder what he is doing," said Mary. But





THE LITTLE TINY THING.


when she lifted up the thimble the little tiny thing lay stiff
and still.
"Oh, did he die of being under the thimble?" she said
aloud. "I am afraid he did mind."
Why did you do that, Mary ?" said her father, who was
close by, and who had guessed the truth. See! he moves
-one of his legs. Run to the house and fetch a wee taste of
honey from the breakfast-table for the little thing you
starved."'
"I didn't mean to," said Mary.
She touched the honey in the spoon with a blade of
grass, and tenderly put a drop of it before the little ant.
He put out a fairy tongue to lick up the sweet stuff. He
grew well, and stood upon his pretty little jointed feet. He
tried to run.
Where is he in -such a hurry to go, do you think?"
said father.
"I don't know," said Mary softly. She felt ashamed.
He wants to run home," said father. I know where
he lives. In a little round world of ants, under the apple
tree."
Oh! Has such a little tiny thing a real home of his
own ? I should have thought he lived just anywhere about."
Why, he would not like that at all. At home he has
a fine palace, with passages and rooms more than you could
count; he and the others dug them out, that they might
all live together like little people in a little town."
And has he got a wife and children-a lot of little ants
at home.?"




THE LITTLE TINY THING.


The baby ants are born as eggs; they are little help-
less things, and must be carried about by their big relations.
There are father ants and mother ants, and lots of other
ants who are nurses to the little ones. Nobody knows his
own children, but all the grown-up ones are kind to all the
babies. This is a little nurse ant. See how she hurries
off! Her babies at home must have their faces washed."
father cried Mary; now that is a fairy story.'"
"Not a bit of it," said father. "Ants really do clean
their young ones by licking them. On sunny days they








carry their babies out, and let them lie in the sun. On cold
days they take them downstairs, away from the cold wind
and the rain. The worker ants are the nurses. Though
the little ones are not theirs, they love them and care for
them as dearly as if they were."
"Why, that's just like Aunt Jenny who lives with us,
and mends our things, and puts baby to bed, and goes
out for walks with us."
"Just the same," said father, laughing.
Is that the reason we say Ant.Jenny?"
"You little dunce! Who taught you to spell? But it




THE LITTLE TINY THING.


is not a bad idea, all the same. It would be a good
thing if there were as many 'ant' Jennys in this big
round world of ours as there
are in the ants' little round
world-folk who care for all,
no matter whose children
they are."
While they were talking,
the little ant crept to the
edge of the table, and down
the side, and was soon lost ..--ba w,
among the blades of grass.
"He will never find his
way, said Mary. M
"Let him alone for that," i
said father. The ants have
paths leading from their hill.
They never lose their way.
But they meet with sad accidents sometimes. What do you
think I saw the other day? One of these small chaps-it
may have been this very one-was carrying home a scrap
of something in his jaws for the youngsters at home. As
he ran along, a bird dropped an ivy berry on him. Poor
mite of a thing This was worse than if a cannon ball were
to fall from the sky on one of us. He lay under it, not
able to move. By-and-by one of his brother ants, who was
taking a stroll, caught sight of him under the berry.
"What did he do ?" said Mary.
First he tried to push the berry off his friend's body,




THE LITTLE TINY THING.


but it was too heavy. Next he caught hold of one of his
friend's legs with his jaws, and tugged till I thought it would
come off. Then he rushed about in a frantic state, as if he
were saying to himself, 'What shall I do ? what shall I do ?'
And then he ran off up the path. In another minute he
came hurrying back with three other ants."
"Is it quite true, father?"
Quite. The four ants talked together by gentle touches
of their horns. They looked as if they were telling one
another what a dreadful accident it was, and how nobody
knew whose turn would come next. After this they set to
work with a will. Two of them pushed the berry as hard
as they could, while the other two pulled their friend out
by the hind legs. When at last he was free, they crowded
round as if petting and kissing him. You see these little
ant folk have found out that ''Tis love, love, love, that
makes the world go round.' I shouldn't wonder if that ant
you teased so thoughtlessly is gone off to tell the news at
home that there is a drop of honey to be had here."
"Oh, he couldn't, father!"
"Wait and see," said father.
In a little while back came the ant with a troop of friends.
"He has been home and told them the good news
about the honey," said father. Do you think that all children
are as kind as that ?"
Mary said, No, they're not. I don't run to call all
the others when I find a good place for blackberries."
"Then," said father, ." don't be unkind to the ant, who
is kinder than you, though he is only a little tiny thing."

































I, 'I


GOOD FRIENDS.


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Questions.


0 H, where do they sell all
the lilies and roses,
The "pandies and "pudsies"
and funny snub noses,
__'C^ :* 1 The dimpled wee "chin-chops"
and fat pinky knees,
Of the dear little, queer little,
babies one sees?

And what would they want for some soft golden curlies;
A pair of blue eyes, and two teeth white as pearlies;
A mouth like a rosebud, just made for a kiss?
I fear they would ask me a great deal for this.

And where is the gentle school-mistress who teaches
The mothers and grannies their sweet baby speeches,
Their "lovies" and "dovies" and tender "coo-coos"
That the newest new pet understands in two twos?

Answers.
ALAS and alas! you may search through the city,
Yet ne'er find the shop where they sell things so
pretty;
But I think it's the angels from far, far away,
Teach the mothers and grannies the sweet things they say.







A Lesson in Manners.
SH ERE was once a dear
little, queer little cat,
The sweetest kit e'er
seen,
Who made up her mind
to journey j7T
To town to see the
queen. I

Mr. Puggy, a teacher of
manners and danc-

Gave her a lesson or
two.
Observe my instruc-
tions, Miss Tabby,
lai And be sure to do as
i ,;I do.

But Tabby espied her saucer of
milk,
And made a dart at that, (f,
While Pug distressfully .
murmured,
"What a very ill-bred
cat ,







The Prize Boat.


ON'T do it, Dick!"
pleaded Dolly.
Girls always spoil
sport !" growled Mark, as
Ih. sw- s he saw Dick ready to
-give in.
"We shan't hurt the
-n a boat! Don't be silly, Dolly.
k Even if the sails do get
wet, Tom can get fresh
ones. And it will be
better for him to know
whether it will sail or not."
SAnd the twins departed
for the seashore with the
boat in their hands.
How they wished they had taken Dolly's advice, when
they saw the ship, which had sailed so gallantly at first in
the little cove, break from its moorings and drift out to sea!
Tom had worked very hard for the prize of /2 offered
in a weekly paper for the best-made boat, not only for the
sake of the money, but because the toys were to go to the
Home for Orphans. And now all his work was gone.
Oh! well, it can't be helped," he said good-naturedly,
when his first feeling of anger had passed; but I wish
you chaps would leave my things alone."





THE PRIZE BOAT.


But it can be helped," said Dolly, rushing in. See!
a fisherman brought it to shore, and it isn't a bit broken."
So the orphans got the boat after all, and had great
fun sailing it in the river near the Home; and what was
perhaps more wonderful, Tom won the prize.


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The Little Thief in the Pantry.


" TOTHER dear," said a little mouse one day, "I
IVL think the people in our house must be very kind;
don't you ? They leave such nice things for us in the larder."
There was a twinkle in the mother's eye as she replied,-
"Well, my child, no doubt they are very well in their
way, but I don't think they are quite as fond of us as you
seem to think. Now remember, Greywhiskers, I have
absolutely forbidden you to put your nose above the ground
unless I am with you, for kind as the people are, I shouldn't
be at all surprised if they tried to catch you."
Greywhiskers twitched his tail with scorn; he was quite
sure he knew how to take care of himself, and he didn't
mean to trot meekly after his mother's tail all his life. So
as soon as she had curled herself up for an afternoon nap
he stole away, and scampered across the pantry shelves.
Ah! here was something particularly good to-day. A
large iced cake stood far back upon the shelf, and Grey-
whiskers licked his lips as he sniffed it. Across the top
of the cake there were words written in pink sugar; but
as Greywhiskers could not read, he did not know that he
was nibbling at little Miss Ethel's birthday cake. But he
did feel a little guilty when he heard his mother calling.
Off he ran, and was back in the nest again by the time his
mother had finished rubbing her eyes after her nap.
She took Greywhiskers up to the pantry then, and when
she saw the hole in the cake she seemed a little annoyed.





THE LITTLE THIEF IN THE PANTRY.


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"Some mouse has evidently been here before us," she
said, but of course she never guessed that it was her own
little son.
The next day the naughty little mouse again popped
up to the pantry when his mother was asleep; but at first




GREAT-GRANDMOTHER'S WISH.


he could find nothing at all to eat, though there was a
most delicious smell of toasted cheese.
Presently he found a dear little wooden house, and
there hung the cheese, just inside it.
In ran Greywhiskers, but, oh! "click" went the little
wooden house, and, mousie was caught fast in a trap.
When the morning came, the cook, who had set the
trap, lifted it from the shelf, and then called a pretty little
girl to come and see the thief who had eaten her cake.
"What are you going to do with him?" asked Ethel.
"Why, drown him, my dear, to be sure."
The tears came into the little girl's pretty blue eyes.
"You didn't know it was stealing, did you, mouse
dear ?" she said.
No," squeaked Greywhiskers sadly ; "indeed I didn't."
Cook's back was turned for a moment, and in that
moment tender-hearted little Ethel lifted the lid of the trap,
and out popped mousie.
Oh! how quickly he ran home to his mother, and how
she comforted and petted him until he began to forget his
fright; and then she made him promise never to disobey
her again, and you may be sure he never did.


Great=Grandmother's Wish.
ID you ever see a fairy, grannie ? said Trots.
L I "No," she said, "but my great-grandmother did."
Oh, do tell me!" cried Trots.
Well, once upon a time, as she was carrying her butter

















































































A VISIT 1T GRANNIE.
A VISIT TO' GRANNIE.




GREAT-GRANDMOTHER S WISH.


to market, she picked up a crooked sixpence. And with
it, and what she sold her butter for, she bought a little
black pig. Now, coming home, she had to cross the brook;
so she picked piggy up in her arms and carried her over the
brook. And, lo, instead of a pig, there was a little fairy'in
her arms !"
Oh!" cried Trots, "what was it like?"
Well, it had a red cap on its head, and a green, frock,
and it had gauzy wings, and it wanted to fly away, but
great-grandmother held it tight.
"'Please let me go,' said the fairy.
"'What will you give me?' said great-grandmother.
'I will give you one wish,' answered the fairy.
So great-grandmother thought and thought what was
the best thing to wish for, and at last she said,-
"'Give to me and to my daughters to the eleventh
generation the lucky finger and the loving heart.'
"'You have wished a big wish,' said the fairy, 'but
you shall have it.' So she kissed great-grandmother's eyes
and mouth, and then she flew away."
"And did the wish come true?" asked Trots.
"Always-always," answered grannie. We have been
since then the best spinners and knitters in all the country-
side, and the best wives and daughters."
"But," said Trots, "what will the eleventh generation
do when the wish stops and the good-luck?"
"I don't know," said grannie, shaking her head. "I
suppose they'll have to catch a fairy of their own."









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7


IN THE HAYFIELD.
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Little Bo=Peep.
LITTLE Bo-peep has lost her sheep,
SAnd can't tell where to find them;
Leave them alone, and they'll come home,
And bring their tails behind them.
Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep,
And dreamt she heard them bleating;
But when she awoke, she found it a joke,
For still they were all fleeting.
Then up she took her little crook,
Determined for to find them;
She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
For they'd left their tails behind them!
It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray
Along a meadow hard by,
There she espied their tails side by side,
All hung up on a tree to dry!
She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye,
And ran o'er hill and dale, 0!
And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should,
To tack to each sheep its tail, 0!

Little Boy Blue.
"TITTLE boy Blue, come blow me your horn;
J The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn.
Where is the boy that looks after the sheep ?"-
He's under the haycock, fast asleep."-
Will you wake him ? "-" No, not I;
For if I do, he'll be sure to cry."












































Then zp she took her little crook,
Determined for to find them;
She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
For they'd left their tails behind them /







Baby.


wT H E chil-
dren sat
soberly round
S. the fire in the
watched the
bright flames
flicker and leap.
A late autumn
butterfly had
found its way in
through an open
oa. f i window, and flut-
tered backwards
and forwards towards the blaze.
I wonder," began little Doris, "if baby will have pretty
yellow wings like the butterfly."
Don't, Doris," cried Gertie sharply, and then Georgie
burst out crying.
Upstairs little baby lay in his cot, moaning and tossing
to and fro in pain, and the children had heard nurse say
that God was going to take him from them.
Gertie did not cry, but there was a dull ache in her
throat, and a hard lump seemed to rise as she thought of
how, only a week ago, baby had been amongst them, well
and happy and strong.




BABY.


Gertie felt she hadn't loved him half enough. She re-
membered how she had pushed him away when he wanted
to look at her new picture-book, and that she had often
been cross and unkind.
At last the little girl could bear the pain no longer,
and she crept upstairs to the nursery door. Mother was
just going in, and Gertie caught her dress as she passed.
"Can't I do anything, mother?" she whispered.-
Mother kissed the little upturned face. "Ask God
to spare him, my darling," she said.
Gertie stole away to her own room, and knelt beside her
bed; and then at last the tears came, and she sobbed out
a little heart-broken prayer to God to save poor baby's
life. And the angels caught the loving tears and the mur-
mured childish prayer, and carried them before the throne
of God.
It was quite dark, and long past the children's bed-time,
when mother found her little girl kneeling beside her bed,
where she had cried herself to sleep.
Gertie started up when her mother stooped to kiss her.
"Baby, mother?" she asked.
He's better, dear," mother answered. He has fallen
into a nice sleep, and the doctor says he will be spared
to us.
God had granted Gertie's prayer; and when at last baby
was well enough to join the other children's romps and
games, there wasn't one of them who would have spoken
an impatient or an unkind word to him for all the world.























The Birthday Gift.


W E have a little baby,
The dearest little dear;
He came upon my birthday,
And we've had him half a year.
He has blue eyes, he never cries,
I nurse him on my knee,
And mother calls our baby
God's birthday gift to me.





I Wonder.


WONDER if baby ever thinks,
And what does she think about?
Why does she sometimes look so sweet,
And why does she sometimes pout?
I wonder what baby ever thinks
That makes her so full of glee,
That brings the roses to her cheeks,
And dimples, one, two, three.
I wonder how baby ever knows
The time she should go to sleep,
And the time to wake and rub her eyes,
From her slumber soft and deep.
I wonder if baby ever laughs
At the things on grandmother's nose,
And if she ever tries to count
Her ten little rosy toes.
I wonder what baby ever says
In her kind of baby-talk,
When she coos and stretches out her arms
For father to come and walk.
I wonder what baby means to be
When she grows up big and tall;
I wonder if she's ever afraid
That mother will let her fall.
I wonder if we were ever new,
And tiny, and sleepy, and pink;
But the wonder I wonder most of all-
I wonder what babies think.













:1''


Plans for the Pups.

THERE are four little pups in the barn, on the straw-
Yes, four, though it only was three that I saw-


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PLANS FOR THE PUPS.


All tumbling and tossing and romping about,
With little pink noses poked funnily out.

Then come to the yard, and consider with me
What each of these pups, when it's older, shall be;
For doggies are useful and friendly to man,
If they're carefully treated and trained with a plan.

They all must be taught to be clever at tricks,
To carry one's baskets and pick up one's sticks;
They all must be gentle and kindly and good,
And love little children, as good doggies should.

The biggest of all a St. Bernard shall be,
With a bell round his neck, as in pictures you see;
In the storm on the mountains he bravely shall go,
And rescue poor travellers lost in the snow.

The next we will train for a sheep-dog so bold,
To follow the shepherd and guard o'er the fold.
The wolves and the lions will hold him in fear,
And never a kite or an eagle come near.

The third little pup shall a poodle be bred,
With little black curls from his tail to his head;
So clever, that people will say when they see,
" Oh whose can this dear little poodle-dog be ?"

The fourth-well, I really can't think what to choose:
He might be a toy-dog in jacket and shoes,
Or a big black retriever to swim in the tide.
Let's ask dearest mother if she will decide.
































The Little Cinderella Girl.
" MOTHER, I want a new dress," said Doris, rushing into


the sitting-room with sparkling eyes.
My dear Doris, you have plenty of


dresses," her




THE LITTLE CINDERELLA GIRL.


mother answered, besides this white silk one I am making
now.
"Ah, but," said Doris, "I don't want this for myself;
I want it for another little girl. And I've promised it, and
I must keep my promise. You know I must, mother."
"That is why we have to be careful about promises,"
said her mother, when she had threaded her needle. But
come, tell me all about it. Whom is the dress for?"
It's for a little Cinderella girl. She belongs to the
lady who has taken the thatched cottage down at the end
of our garden. I was up in the elder tree just now, and
she came under the wall where I could see her. And she
said-just like Cinderella in the story-' Oh! I wish I
could go to the party.' And of course she meant the mid-
summer party up at the Hall. So I said, 'Why can't you ?'
and oh! how she did jump! And, mother, what. do you
think she said? She said, 'Are you my fairy godmother ?'
You know I had my white frock on, and perhaps up among
the elder leaves I looked like a fairy. So I said, 'I will
be if I can.' And then she said, I can't go to the party
because I haven't a party dress.' And I said, Fear not;
all shall be well,' and I vanished."
How did you do that ?" said Doris's mother.
"Why, I just dropped out of the tree. O mother,
she must have a dress!"
Do you think this white one would fit her?"
But that's mine," said Doris, pouting.
It's no use being generous when it costs you nothing."
Let her have it then," said Doris, with an effort.




THE LITTLE CINDERELLA GIRL.


So Doris went to the party in her old blue muslin,
and Doris's mother went to see the mother of the little
Cinderella girl. The two mothers found that they were
old school friends, and the mother of the little Cinderella
girl was persuaded to accept Doris's silk frock.
Now it was a very grand party at the Hall, and every
one was very smart. Doris's old blue muslin was the
shabbiest frock in the room. But there was no heart so
happy as that of Doris, when she saw-the little Cinderella
girl wearing the new silk frock, and enjoying the party.
How happy your little girl looks," some one said to
Doris's mother.
Yes," was the answer; she has given a present to-day,
and she knows now that it is indeed more blessed to give
than to receive."







Santa Claus.


k D 0 you know me, little one?
SI am the fairy man who loves
'- a little boys and girls.
S",r I call at your house once a year.
When your stocking is hung up, I
Sfill it with toys and other good
things.
Look at me. I am just going to
start on my rounds. The night is
Sdark and cold. But my coat of fur
Sis warm. This lamp will show me
the way over the snow.
My sledge is drawn by three deer. When we come to
the sea, the sledge is turned into a boat. Away the deer
swim through the water.
Before the sun is up, I must call at many homes. The
children will be asleep. They never see me. Down, down
the chimney I slip with my sack on my back.
I know where to find the stockings, and I fill them all.
Then up the chimney I climb, and off I go to the next
house.
Do you know my name? Children call me Santa
Claus.



























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SANTA CLAUS.




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