• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 A very naughty little person
 Poor Uncle Tom
 A snow man
 Not such fun as it seemed
 On the sands
 Old clothes
 The little tiny thing
 Questions
 A lesson in manners
 The prize boat
 The little thief in the pantry
 Great-grandmother's wish
 Back Cover






Group Title: christmas hamper
Title: A christmas hamper
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00089041/00001
 Material Information
Title: A christmas hamper a volume of pictures and stories for little folks
Alternate Title: Christmas hamper full of pictures and tales
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 26 cm
Language: English
Creator: Thomas Nelson & Sons ( Publisher )
Publisher: T. Nelson & Sons
Place of Publication: London ;
Edinburgh ;
New York
Publication Date: 1899?
 Subjects
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Fathers and daughters -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Uncles -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Grandmothers -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Parent and child -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Orphans -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Thieves -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Domestic animals -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Ants -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Friendship -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Leisure -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Play -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Snowmen -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Outdoor recreation -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Natural history -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Christmas -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Winter -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Summer -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Beaches -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Prize books (Provenance) -- 1899   ( rbprov )
Children's stories -- 1899   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1899   ( lcsh )
Juvenile literature -- 1899   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1899
Genre: Prize books (Provenance)   ( rbprov )
Children's stories
Children's poetry
Juvenile literature   ( rbgenr )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
General Note: Title page engraved; frontispiece printed in colors.
General Note: Date of publication from prize inscription.
General Note: Pictorial cover.
General Note: Contains prose and verse.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00089041
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002341733
notis - ALU5650
oclc - 271657171

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Front Matter
        Page 3
    Frontispiece
        Page 4
    Title Page
        Page 5
        Page 6
    A very naughty little person
        Page 7
    Poor Uncle Tom
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
    A snow man
        Page 12
        Page 13
    Not such fun as it seemed
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
    On the sands
        Page 17
    Old clothes
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
    The little tiny thing
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
    Questions
        Page 30
    A lesson in manners
        Page 31
    The prize boat
        Page 32
        Page 33
    The little thief in the pantry
        Page 34
        Page 35
    Great-grandmother's wish
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
    Back Cover
        Page 39
        Page 40
Full Text




















































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This Christmas hamper, neat and trim,
Is full of sweet things to the brim!
Its tales and rhymes, and pictures bright,
Will please you, dear, on Christmas night,
When of such games as blind-man's-buff
And hide-and-seek you've had enough.


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University
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BUGSWORTH
BOARD SCHOOL.


5s a reward for Regulai
and general proficiency.


S. SCHOFIELD,
1 / HEAD MASTER.
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A CARRIAGE AND PAIR.






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Efflip, (folk's







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.

Can you tell why my shoe-strings break
And 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 might 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.


(0 __ E seemed a funny old gentleman,
C' H the children thought, but still
j ['^r- rather nice, especially when he brought
those sweets out of his pocket and let
them dip into the bag and take what they
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!"







-~ ~ -'


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.


































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FINISHING TOUCHES.


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_- Not Such Fun as
it Seemed.


[ i E--.

SN'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,
Sbut, unfortunately, a little bit too fond of mis-
.,Y chief, 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,
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 coming in until it had
surrounded them, and there was 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.







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On The Sands.


T HE 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
I -, 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 inside. 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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The Little Tiny Thing.


r ",UT in the garden Mary sat hemming
a pocket handkerchief, and there
S 'came a little insect running-oh, in
"-' __. such a hurry !-across the small stone
C t table by her side.
The sewing was not done, for
Mary liked doing nothing best, and
.' she thought it would be fun to drop
,I J ,her thimble over the little ant.
Now he is in the dark," said she.
S<" 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 dlid 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."
"O 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


Vs.






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 v o .
the side, and was soon lost i l
among the blades of grass.
He will never find his
way," said Mary.
Let him alone for that,"
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."











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GOOD FRIENDS.


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Questions.


OH, where do they sell all
the lilies and roses,
The pandies and pudsies"
and funny snub noses,
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.


T~e\








A Lesson in Manners.
T HERE was once a dear
little, queer little cat,
The sweetest kit e'er
seen,
Who made up her mind
to journey A /
To town to see the
queen. I

Mr. Puggy, a teacher of
manners and danc-
in g,
Gave her a lesson or
two.
S" Observe my instruc-
; -tions, Miss Tabby,
l/ iEp I And be sure to do as
/ /I do."


But Tabby espied her saucer of
milk,
And made a dart at that, (,'( J
While Pug distressfully !ii i I
murmured, i
"What a very ill-bred
cat!"








The Prize Boat.


-"-- ON'T do it, Dick!"
-- pleaded Dolly.
-- -Girls always spoil
'"- sport !" growled Mark, as
he saw Dick ready to
\,.. ( f give in.
-.' "We shan't hurt the
boat! Don't be silly, Dolly.
: i : Even if the sails do get
wet, Tom can et fresh
ones. And it will be
----f better for him to know
whether it will sail or not."
-- And the twins departed
S- 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.


-51
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The Little Thief in the Pantry.


" 1 OTHER dear," said a little mouse one day, "I
IV 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.


"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, mousie
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.
" I ID you ever see a fairy, grannie ?" said Trots.
"D "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 TO GRANNIE.


,r i'r
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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 f(rock,
and it had gauzy wings, and it wanted to fl" away, but
great-grandmother held it tight. .--
'Please let. me go,' said the fairy:
"' What will you .give me ?' said great-grandmother.l:
"' I will give you one: wish,' answered. the fairy.
"So great-grandmother thought and: thought vhat 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.'
S"'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 awavay..
"And did the wish' come true ? '' asked Trots.
"Always-always," answered graniiie. VWe have been
since then the best spinners and- knitteris 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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