Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 The Ice King and the Sweet South...
 The Christmas Cake
 Little Annie Leslie
 Caspar and the Little Hunchbac...
 The Disobedient Little Squirre...
 The Christmas Gathering
 Poor Lulu Lee
 Back Cover

Title: The ice king, and the sweet south wind
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00001913/00001
 Material Information
Title: The ice king, and the sweet south wind
Alternate Title: Ice king
Physical Description: 176 p., <7> leaves of plates : ill. ; 23 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Laing, Caroline H. Butler ( Caroline Hyde Butler ), 1804-1892
Cottrell, George W., d. 1895 ( Publisher )
Publisher: G.W. Cottrell
Place of Publication: Boston
Publication Date: c1851
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Christmas -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Parent and child -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Nature -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Fables -- 1851   ( rbgenr )
Children's stories -- 1851   ( lcsh )
Family stories -- 1851   ( local )
Children's poetry -- 1851   ( lcsh )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1851   ( rbbin )
Genre: Fables   ( rbgenr )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Family stories   ( local )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Statement of Responsibility: by Mrs. Caroline H. Butler.
General Note: Added t.p., engraved.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00001913
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223185
oclc - 45714379
notis - ALG3433
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front page i
        Front page ii
    Front Matter
        Front page iii
        Front page iv
    Half Title
        Front page v
        Front page vi
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Table of Contents
        Page 7
        Page 8
    The Ice King and the Sweet South Wind
        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 23a
        Page 23b
    The Christmas Cake
        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 53a
        Page 54
    Little Annie Leslie
        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
        Page 89a
        Page 90
    Caspar and the Little Hunchback
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
    The Disobedient Little Squirrels
        Page 128
        Page 129a
        Page 130
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137a
        Page 137b
    The Christmas Gathering
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
    Poor Lulu Lee
        Page 170
        Page 171a
        Page 171b
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
    Back Cover
        Page 178
        Page 179
Full Text


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"I will open my mouth in a parable."- PSALMS Ixxvil I.


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District ot IMassachusetts






STH~ CHISTMAS CAK, .............
LrrTLE AwNE LESLIE, . ..... .
POOR LULU LEE, ...............

S 9
. 53
. 89
. 137
. 170




O THE Ice King, the Ice King!
A frosty old king is he!
He sits on his throne -an icy block,
Firm and fixed as the solid rock,
And with frozen snow in fluted fold
Enwrapping his icy shoulders cold,
His beard long icicles, sharp and thin,
Which crackle beneath his pointed chin.
0 the Ice King, the Ice King!
A frosty old king is he!
And I hope, dear children, you or I
May never the Ice King see!


O the Ice King, the Ice King!
A frigid old king is he!
Ranged around in regular row,
His satellites grim of sorrow and woe,
In casque and cuirass of icy mail,
Studded around with bullets of hail,
Rattle their spears, most fearful to see,
Shaped from the ice of the Frozen Sea.
O the Ice King, the Ice King!
A frigid old king is he!
And I hope, dear children, you or I
May never the Ice King see.

O the Ice King, the Ice King!
A bitter old king is he!
He points with his bloodless finger, cold,
To the hearts of mortals, young and old,
And there the mischief 'tis hard to tell,
Which the Ice King works with his icy spell,
Chilling, congealing, turning to stone
The virtues which dwell there, one by one!



O the Ice King, the Ice King!
A bitter old king is he!
And I hope, dear children, you or I
May never the Ice King see.

Yet for all the Ice King sits there in such
stern majesty upon his lofty throne, which
is as broad, and as brilliant, as the mighty
Falls of Niagara would be, were the whole
glorious mass of waters, in their stupendous
leap, suddenly to become solid glittering ice;
and although he is guarded on every side by
those icy-mailed warriors rattling their sharp
pointed spears, yet the Ice King sometimes
shakes with fear, and 'mighty throes, as of an
earthquake, heave his stony bosom, and great
drops gather upon his brow, and then falling
slowly down his icy face, and freezing as
they fall, rattle like hailstones through his
icicled beard.



Ah, then how the frigid limbs of the Ice
King tremble! How he shudders and
quakes! For he fears that, mighty as he is,
he is slipping from his broad, glittering throne
- and that the throne itself is slowly, slowly
sinking, like a huge iceberg, into the deep,
deep ocean!
But why does he fear! What is the pow-
er which can thus dispute his sway, and
move the frozen majesty of the Ice Monarch!
What the mighty spirit overcoming might
which thus threatens to hurl both mon-
arch and throne into the watery depths!
Ah, my dear little readers, it is no warrior
grim travelling over the earth like the valiant
men of olden time, to battle against Oppres-
sion and Tyranny! It is no monstrous
giant, with breath of flame, preparing bolts
of fire to crush and dissolve the power of



the Ice King! For not such the foes does
the Ice King fear.
It is the Sweet South Wind, balmy and
soft as the breath of a babe on its mother's
breast. It is the Sweet South Wind moving
gently on, unseen, but felt, which causes the
monarch to quake and tremble, and softly
and mildly as the beautiful words of Jesus
should move the heart of a little child to
goodness, does the Sweet South Wind, in low
murmuring tones, proclaim his presence.
Very bitter is the hatred which the Ice
King bears to the Sweet South Wind -just
as sin always hates that which is good and
lovely; and various are the ways by which
he strives to oppose the entrance of his gen-
tle but powerful foe into his dominions.
As soon as he feels the Sweet South Wind
approaching, he blows from his monstrous



mouth, and from his wide-expanded nos-
trils, a cloud of misty vapor, which congeal-
ing all around him, forms a huge icy barrier,
which it would seem no power could over-
come, and as the Ice King sits behind that
frozen barricade, there are sounds like the
howling of hungry bears upon the polar ice,
and strange growlings, and roarings most
dreadful to hear; and now and then sharp
reports, like the firing of many guns, by
which the Ice King hopes to frighten away
the gentle Sweet South Wind.
Nor is it only in this, the very region of
his icy dominion, that he fears the gentle in-
fluence. For into the homes and haunts of
mortals, the Ice King sends forth a band of
cruel spirits to work his will.
Clad in robes of sleet and snow, they come
riding on dark, leaden clouds, wailing and



shrieking as they weave their icy spells.
And to some of these is given power to touch
the hearts of moitals with evil, and to chill
in them those gentle feelings of love. Pity,
kindness, and charity, which God has im-
planted in every breast.
And it is here that the Ice King again
feels and dreads the power of the Sweet
South Wind.
Shall I tell you why?
Then listen -

O the Sweet South Wind, the Sweet Sol th
A Spirit of Beauty is he!
Throned on a cloud of azure bright,
Beaming and rosy as morning light,
Over the Earth, and across the Sea,
The Sweet South Wind moves lovingly,
While softly swelleth all around,
Music of sweet JEolian sound.



O the Sweet South Wind, the Sweet South
A Spirit of Beauty is he!
And I hope, dear children, you and I
This Spirit of Beauty may see.

O the Sweet South Wind, the Sweet South
A Spirit of Gladness is he!
Forever around him beings fair
Circle and swim in the balmy air,
Their robes more pure than the snow-white
They float near the spirit with looks of love,
Their rosy pinions half unfurled,
Blessings to bear to a sinful world.
O the Sweet South Wind, the Sweet South
A Spirit of Gladness is he!
And I hope, dear children, you and I
This Spirit of Gladness may see.



0 the Sweet South Wind, the Sweet South
A Spirit of Joy is he!
For where the light of his smile is seen,
Fair flowerets spring, the fields are green,
Bright waters dance o'er the laughing
The bird and the butterfly wake to mirth,
And the icy spells the Ice King wove
Are melted away by that smile of love.
O the Sweet South Wind, the Sweet South
A Spirit of Joy is he!
And I hope, dear children, you and I
This Spirit of Joy may see.

O the Sweet South Wind, the Sweet South
A Spirit of Love is he!
There is not a babe of mortal birth,
Or a being that walks the beautiful Earth,



The Spirit of Love would not keep from harm,
And draw unto him with his loving arm,
While in every heart he would claim abode,
And point Earth's children the way to God.
O the Sweet South Wind, the Sweet South
A Spirit of Love is he!
And I hope, dear children, you and I
This Spirit of Love may see.

Now, dear children, the spirits of the Ice
King have great power, and are the cause
of a great deal of sorrow in the world; and
were it not for the gentle pleadings of the
beautiful messengers which the Sweet South
Wind sends forth to oppose their influence
I am sure I do not know what would be-
come of us; there would be no love, no
pity, no kindness, I am afraid, among us,
and our hearts would be cold as the Ice
King's own.



Often the pitiless Ice Amng points his fin-
ger at the breast of some old gray-headed
man, and then the spirits who obey his will
fill the heart of that old man with avarice
and cruelty, so that he will not even give a
poor starving fellow-creature a crust of
mouldy bread to keep him alive. Perhaps
it is around the heart of some wife and
mother, some young man or maiden, that
the evil spirits would weave their spells,
chilling all their generous and kindly feel-
ings, and making them cold, selfish, and
oftentimes very, very wicked! And even
young and innocent childhood cannot escape
the power of the Ice King! and indeed it is
over children he loves best to exert his pow-
er: their young and tender hearts it is his
delight to chill. He would make them dis-
obedient to their parents. He would have



them forget God. He would like them to
be selfish and cruel. He would have them
hate their books, and, indeed, so freeze and
harden their hearts, little by little, that,
should they live to be old, only a lump of
ice, shaped like a human heart, would re-
main in their bosoms.
It is no wonder that the grim old Ice
King hates the Sweet South Wind; for
often, when he thinks the Ice Spirits have
fastened their icy chains firmly around the
heart of their victim, the Sweet South Wind,
robed in beauty, glides softly in, and with
balmy breath melts away their work, pen-
etrates the fast-freezing heart, and, with a
smile of resistless love, enthrones therein a
band of gentle spirits, over whom neither the
Ice King nor the Ice Spirits can have con-
trol; for wherever the lovely followers of



the Sweet South Wind dwell, whether' in
palace or cottage, or in the hearts of mortals,
these cruel spirits cannot enter. No. Like
huge lions they may howl around-they
may rattle and shiver their icy spears against
the windows and doors, and knock, knock,
knock, with their cold, stony fingers, at the
heart but all in vain! Subdued at length
by the power of Goodness, they yield they
disappear -and as they vanish, the bright
green grass springs up, and beautiful flow-
ers blossom for joy.
Perhaps, my dear young readers, you will
understand my meaning better, if I relate to
you some stories, which shall show you in
what manner the Ice King and the Sweet
South Wind may touch even your hearts,
and influence your conduct.
I dare say many of you have read JEsop's



Fables--that pleasant book, which makes
the birds, and the beasts, and even the little
fishes proclaim good and evil. I am not
going to tell you fables. But perhaps you
already say, that the Ice King and the Sweet
South Wind are but a fable. Very well. I
will therefore illustrate my fable, if fable you
say it is, by giving you some little sketches
of those children whom I know to have been
made happy or unhappy who were be-
loved or disliked by every one through the
influence which these opposite spirits of the
Good and of the Evil held over them.
Let me hope their example may open
your young hearts to the gentle and beauti-
ful spirits of the Sweet South Wind, and that
the power of the Ice King may melt away
like the snows of winter under the genial
breath of spring.







COME, come, Alick, put away your book,
See, the sun has almost crept away from
the window ledge."
"Then it must be one o'clock, mother."
"Yes, Alick, and it is time you were off."
"I know it, mother. I will be ready in a
moment," replied the little boy, closing his
book, and laying it upon the shelf. Then
throwing off his jacket, he plunged his head
into a tub of snow-water which stood upon
the hearth, lifted it as quickly out, and then
shaking his dark, curly locks, as a young



Newfoundland dog might do, he exclaimed,
laughing, -
"There, mother all right this side
up. Now, what is the errand?"
"0 Alick, Alick, what a careless boy you
are!" said Mrs. Alison. "Only see how
you have spattered the water about! But
come, put on your jacket, and your great-
coat too, for it is growing cold. Now, here
is a basket of eggs which you are to take to
Mr. Girder's store,-be very careful you
don't break them, Alick, and ask him to
give you some flour and sugar for them."
"Suppose I ask him to stir the eggs into
the flour and sugar for a Christmas pud-
ding," cried Alick, roguishly.
0, nonsense, child do mind what I say.
Well, after you have got the flower and
sugar for the eggs, go over to Mrs. Plant's



with this pail of butter, there are just four
pounds, -and get the money for it; and
then, Alick, come straight home, and don't
stop to play with any of the boys; and be
sure that you get the flour and sugar, for if
you don't, you cannot have your Christmas
cake, and what is more, your little sister can-
not have hers. There, now, run along; but
do be careful, there's a good boy, not to up-
set your basket."
O, never fear, mother," answered Alick;
"I will walk as steady as our old gander, and
shan't be goose enough to forget any thing,
I can tell you. I am off. Good-by,
mother!" And kissing her bright-eyed,
handsome boy, Mrs. Alison saw him de-
It was the day before Christmas, and a
fine pleasant day it was. Not a cloud could



be seen floating on the bright blue sky, which
bent so beautifully over the snow-covered
earth, and the snow itself all crisped and
sparkling in the glad sunshine; and as little
Alick trudged along over the scarcely worn
path, carefully balancing in each hand the
basket, and the little tin pail of butter, he
was as happy as child could be. He thought
Sof the morrow, and of the fine Christmas
cake which he was to have, and he won-
dered if any other little boy would be as
happy. It was true he had heard his mother
tell a great many stories about Christmas,
and what fine things Santa Claus sometimes
gave good children. But this did not make
him at all discontented or unhappy. Santa
Claus had never given him any thing, to be
sure; but he did not doubt that if he only
knew there was such a little boy as Alick



Alison, he would fetch him something; so
that it was not his fault. His mother was
poor, and he knew she had to work very
hard. Now, if good Santa Claus would only
bring her a new gown, or a warm shawl,
that indeed would be nice.
"But never mind, I shall soon be a man,"
thought this brave little boy of nine years
old, "and then I shall be able to earn a great
deal of money, and I will give it all to my
mother." And on went Alick, whistling and
singing, across the snow.
He was now more than half way to the vil-
lage. He already saw the gilded weather-
cock on the steeple of the meeting-house,
glittering in the sunshine, and could see the
smoke curling up from the black chimney
tops, and he fancied he could almost hear
the shouts of the children playing in the



streets; and Alick stepped more briskly for-
But now, what should Alick see but a
flock of pretty little quails, hopping about on
the snow;. Pretty creatures they were, in
their little brown coats, pecking the spar-
kling crust with their slender bills.
Now, I shouldn't wonder," thought Alick,
"if I could hit one of those little fellows.
How nice it would be for mother's Christmas
dinner! I have a great mind to try." So
he very foolishly set down the basket of eggs,
and the pail of butter, upon the top of a snow
bank, by the side of the road; and then, scoop-
ing up the snow, he began to roll it round
and round in his little hands, squeezing it
tighter and tighter, into little hard snowballs,
to throw at the poor quails.
Ah, take care, Alick, take care; you had
better let them alone.



But the little brown-coated quails did not
seem to be at all frightened at the prepara-
tions Alick was making for his mother's
Christmas dinner. They cocked their little
heads very knowingly as they skipped along,
whistling, No, you don't, no, you don't;" and
some of them nodded at him, and shook
their little wings, just as if they were laugh-
ing at him. At last, approaching very softly,
tip-tip-tipping on tiptoe, Alick let fly a large
snowball right in the midst of them. The
quails hopped up to it, tried it with their lit-
tle black bills, and then, again nodding their
cunning little heads, they whistled, Well
done, well done."
Alick aimed a second time. The little
quails threw out their pretty feet, and began
bobbing about, as if they were dancing a
polka; and then, to show their independence,



and the little fear they had of being broiled
or roasted, they came skip, skip, skipping
over the snow, nearer and nearer to where
the little boy stood, about to throw his third
snowball. And now Alick was sure he
should hit one; he could not help it, when
they were so close to him; and again he took
aim at the little birds; but, alas.! instead of
hitting the saucy quails, the snowball struck
against the basket with full force, and tilting
it over, out popped the eggs to see what was
the matter; and then away they went, rolling
over and over down the bank, crack-crack-
crack, against one another, they were in
such a hurry, so that by the time they had
reached the bottom, all that remained of poor
Mrs. Alison's fine eggs was a heap of shells
resting in a pool of their own bright yellow
yolk. Poor Alick!




If he had been suddenly turned into a lit.
tle snow man, he could not have stood more
still than he did for a minute or two, as he
saw the consequence of his carelessness.
Poor little boy! At last he threw himself
down in the snow, and began to cry bitterly.
"0 dear, 0 dear, what shall I do? What
will mother say to me? O, what a naughty
boy I have been!"
And then he thought of the Christmas
cake, and his tears fell all the faster--not
so much for his own disappointment, as be
cause his little sister, who was both sick and
lame, could not have any.
"0, those ugly quails, how I wish I had
never seen them!" cried Alick, impatiently,
as he wiped his eyes, and began to consider
what he should do.
Ah, Alick, don't call those pretty harmless


little quails "ugly." You may be sure they
would not have done you any mischief-- not
they; it is not their fault that your beautiful
Christmas cake has vanished among those
broken egg-shells!
Lifting the little pail of butter, and taking
the empty basket on his arm, Alick again set
forth on his journey; and very sad indeed he
felt. But at length he began to comfort
himself with the thought that perhaps Mr.
Girder, the grocery man, would let him have
the flour and sugar for his mother: yes, he
felt quite sure he would, for he would tell
him the whole story, and how his little sis-
ter could not have her Christmas cake, un-
less he would trust him, and that he would
ask his mother to let him come and do er-
rands for him, and pick up chips, and bring
in wood, until he had worked enough to pay



him, and he would be so grateful to him be-
You may be very certain that Alick did
not stop to snowball any more quails, but
kept on very steadily, as he should have
done at first, until he reached the village.
He went directly to Mrs. Plant's with the
butter, and knocked softly at the kitchen
It was opened by Mrs. Plant herself, her
sleeves turned up over her elbows, a rolling-
pin in her hand, and her good-humored
face all sprinkled with flour. You might
have known it was merry Christmas time.
"Come in, my little man; why, you look
half frozen; come sit down by the fire, and
warm yourself," she said, pointing to a little
Alick did feel a little cold; so he went and



sat down in the corner of the large fireplace,
piled up with great big logs, and where there
was fire enough to have roasted a whole ox
for Christmas, as they did in old times. A
table stood out in the middle of the kitchen,
covered with mince pies, and apple pies, and
puddings, all ready to be put in the oven;
and Mrs. Plant's two little girls were stoning
raisins, and beating eggs, which made poor
Alick think again of his Christmas cake;
and little Tommy, no bigger than himself,
was pounding away at a great big mortar.
O, such preparations for merry Christmas
ihtle Alick had never seen! and then such
a delicious smell of cake and other good
For the first time in his life, a feeling of
envy crept into the heart of the little boy,
as he looked at these happy children, and



thought what a fine Christmas they were
going to have, and how, perhaps, his little
sister and himself would not have any
thing to eat but a bowl of hasty-pudding and
milk, or a roast potato. His bright eyes
clouded over with discontent, and he could
scarcely refrain from crying.
Envy is one of the spirits of the Ice King.
The cheerful voice of Mrs. Plant aroused
the little boy:-
I suppose your mother wants the money
for the butter, Alick!"
If you please, ma'am."
"Well, here it is. Now be careful; don't
lose it; and here is a nice Christmas cooky
for you to eat as. you go along," said Mrs.
Plant, putting into his hand a bright silver
half dollar, and a pretty little cake baked in
the shape of a rose.




"Thank you, thank you!" cried Alick
joyfully. And as soon as he got out of
doors, he put the cake very carefully in his
pocket, to carry home to his little sister. He
would ndt have eaten it himself for the world.
He no longer felt the wicked spirit of
envy; but as he bent his way to the grocery
store, in his grateful little heart Alick hoped
that good Mrs. Plant's children would be
happier on the morrow than any little chil-
dren ever were before.
How much good a kind word, or even a
look, may do!
"Ah, here you come, Alick!" said Mr.
Girder, as the little boy entered the store.
"So you have brought the eggs at last -
why didn't you come sooner, eh? Here,
Betty, come back; here are some fine fresh
eggs, tell your mistress--eggs worth having



Hand over your basket, boy; quick- this
girl is waiting."
"Please, sir, I have not got any eggs,"
said Alick, holding down his head.
"Have not got any eggs? What do you
mean? Your mother promised to send me
three dozen to-day."
She did, sir, but --"
"You let Mrs. Plant have them, you
young scamp, did you?"
"No, sir, I "
"Sold them over the way, eh?"
"No, I broke them," sobbed Alick.
"Broke them, did you ? Why, you ought
to have every bone in your skin broke! The
eggs were mine, sirrah; I had engaged them;
they were my eggs; how dare you break
them?" cried Mr. Girder, in a terrible pas-



"I could not help it," sobbed out Alick
again. "I did not mean to do it; I am very
"0, you are sorry, are you? What good
will that do me? I should like to know."
Indeed, I am very sorry; I know I have
done wrong. I was throwing snowballs at
some quails, and I hit the basket."
"Snowballing quails, eh! 0, you're a
precious fellow; I'd quail you if you was my
boy. Well, what do you want then? What
brought you here, eh?" said cross Mr.
Alick felt better now; so he looked up into
the face of Mr. Girder, half smiling through
his tears, and said,--
"If you please, sir, I came to ask you if
you would be so good. as to let me have
some flour and sugar for mother, as much



as the eggs would have come to, sir, and I
will work for you every day, sir, until I pay
At these words the grocer burst out a
"Well, if you ain't the most impudent
young scamp I ever saw! Ask me to pay for
eggs I never had, do you? Get out of my
store quick, before I catch hold of you!"
"But, Mr. Girder," persisted Alick, "we
shan't be able to have any Christmas. cake,
if you don't let me have the things for
mother; please do, sir !"
Christmas cake! You don't deserve to
have any: away with you; I'll teach you how
to break eggs!" And the grocer shook his
hard red fist at the little boy.
Alick now thought of the half dollar which
Mrs. Plant had paid him for the butter, and



he put his hand in his pocket to get it, for
he was very sure that his mother would like
to have him buy some flour and sugar with
it, if the cross grocer would not let him have
them without; but he could not find it-
the half dollar was gone!
He searched his pockets; he turned them
inside out; he shook his mittens, his tippet,
his cap; he turned the little cooky over and
over again; but, alas! nowhere could he find
the bright silver half dollar! He was afraid
to tell Mr. Girder of this new misfortune;
-he did not know but he would kill him if he
did, for he looked so dreadful cross at him,
out of his ugly gray eyes!
So poor little Alick left the store, and re-
traced the road to Mrs. Plant's, looking very
carefully on each side, and pushing up the
snow with his foot, hoping every moment to
find his lost money.



But there was no such good fortune for
When he reached Mrs. Plant's house, he
knocked very timidly, and asked, with tears
in his eyes, if he had dropped the half dollar
there. No, it was not there; and Mrs. Plant
called him a very careless little boy, which
grieved him almost as much as the loss of
the money.
Poor little Alick! he had been very care-
less, it is trie; but you would have pitied
him, as he turned from the village and began
to walk slowly homeward. When he left
his dear mother, only two hours before, how
happy he was! and now he was going back
to her in disgrace and empty-handed.
He thought how sorry she would feel, and
how much his bad behavior would grieve
her; and then his poor little sister, how



she would cry, because she could not have
the beautiful Christmas cake which she had
been thinking and talking about for so many
weeks! and all because he had been so care-
less. On went little Alick very slowly, and
with downcast eyes, which were sometimes
almost blinded, by great round tears.
Directly in his path Alick suddenly saw
something very bright and glittering. What
could it be ? He stooped eagerly to see, and
to his surprise and delight, he'found it was
a very handsome open-work purse, filled with
silver and gold coins.
Alick now fairly danced for joy, as he
held the purse in his hand, tossing it up and
down, and kissing it.
O, this is for Christmas! yes, Santa Claus
put it here on purpose for me. Hurrah for
my thristmas cake! How happy I am! I



wonder how much there is in it." And the
little boy sat down on tle snow by the road-
side, and was about to open the pretty shin-
ing purse, when suddenly the thought came
over him, that he must not--that it was
not his.
"Perhaps Santa Claus did not mean it for
me, after all!" he said; "somebody may have
%dropped it-no, I must not open it--but, O
dear, how I do, do wish it was mine! "
And little Alick looked at it wishfully, and
turned it over and over in his hand, still
wishing it was his.
And while he sat thus looking at it, a very
strange and terrible feeling came over the
child. Why does he tremble so? why look
so stealthily all around him, and up and
down the road, as if he was doing a very
wicked thing, and was afraid some one was
looking at him?



SI all I tell you?
It was because the wicked spirits of the
Ice King were near him, and he felt their
chill breath freezing his blood; and his cheek
turned white, and his heart grew cold, as
they hoarsely whispered,--
"Keep it, keep the purse, Alick! nobody
saw you pick it up; put it in your pocket;
it is yours!"
No, dear Alick !" sighed the spirit of the
Sweet South Wind, kissing his cheek, "it is
not yours; don't be so wicked as to keep it!"
"It will give you a Christmas cake, Alick
it will give you a great many nice things;.
keep it!" urged the Ice Spirit.
"Alick, Alick! Thou shalt not steal!'"
again whispered the gentle spirit of the
Sweet South Wind.
"It is not stealing; you found the purse-
it is yours!" cried the other.



And now, while these two spirits of Good,
and of Evil, were thus contending for the
heart of little Alick, the child saw a lady
walking very slowly towards him, with her
eyes bent upon the ground, and looking
carefully on each side of the road, and into
all the little snow drifts.
"Get over the fence quick, and hide your-
self- keep the purse; there is gold in it,
Alick!" and. it seemed to the little boy as
if he felt the icy fangs of the Ice Spirit strik-
ing deeper and deeper into his heart.
Then, with his dear mother's eyes, did the
gentle spirit of the Sweet South Wind look
upon him, and under that sorrowful, but
kindly smile, the little boy felt his heart grow
warm again.
His eye brightened; he no longer trembled
like some criminal.



"No, the purse is not mine I will not
keep it!" he exclaimed.
And as the child spoke, the wicked spirits
of the Ice King fled away.
"Have you lost any thing, ma'am?" said
Alick, running to meet the lady.
"Yes, I have lost my purse," was the
"Is this it?" holding up the little steel
purse, with the tempting gold shining
through it.
Yes, it is mine-thank you, my good lit-
tle boy," said the lady. I was very much
afraid I should not be able to find it again
in the snow. You are an honest little
fellow, I see, and here is a silver dollar for
"O, thank you, thank you, ma'am! I am
so much obliged to you!" cried the little



boy. "Please, ma'am, may I spend it ?" he
asked, looking up eagerly into her face.
Why, to be sure you may if you wish-
it is your own," replied the lady, smiling;
"but what do you want to buy?"
"Why, I thought I would go back to the
village and get some things for my mother,
for to-morrow will be Christmas. O, I am
so happy, so glad! Now little Nelly can
have her Christmas cake!" And as he said
this, little Alick was so full of joy, that he
actually jumped up on the top of a high
snow bank, and cut two or three droll capers.
0, how much happier he felt than if he
had wickedly kept the purse! ,
The lady could not help laughing to see
the little boy so merry, and she was pleased,
too, to hear him say that it was for his
mother he wanted to spend his money; so



she began to question him as they walked
along together, and she spoke so kindly and
pleasantly to him, and seemed so much in-
terested in all he said, that little Alick un-
burdened his heart to her of all his troubles.
He told her how foolish he had been to
snowball the little quails, and by that means
break all the nice eggs; and how he had
lost the money which Mrs. Plant paid him
for the butter, although how or when he lost
it, he was sure he did not know, for he never
once had his hand in his pocket until he got
to the grocery store. And then he told her
how Mr. Girder would not give him the flour
and sugar for his mother, although he had
Degged so hard. And now little Alick began
to cry, and he turned away his head for
shame, and could not look into the pleasant
eyes of the lady, as he told her how very,



very wicked he felt, when he held her pretty
purse in his hand, and how something whis-
pered him to hide it and keep the money;
and then that he seemed to see his mother
looking at him, 0, so sorrowful, which made
him know in a moment how very bad his
thoughts were.
"And O, I was so glad," continued the
little boy, "when I saw you coming along the
road, for I was sure that the purse was yours,
and I felt a great deal happier when I had
given it to you!"
The lady told him she was very sorry
that he had been so wicked as to even think
for a moment of keeping her purse, but that
he had done well to struggle against such a
temptation, and to confess his fault.
By this time they had reached the village,
and Alick hastened into the grocery store to



purchase some nice things for his mother.
Seeing that he held the money in his hand,
Mr. Girder suddenly became very kind to
the little boy, whom only a short time before
he had turned out of his store, and he
weighed out the flour and the sugar, and a
pound of nice tea, with a very pleasant smile,
and even joked the little boy about his snow-
balling the birds.
While waiting for his things, Alick hap-
pened to cast his eyes upon the floor, and
what should he see but his own bright silver
half dollar which Mrs. Plant had paid him!
Yes, there it lay among some straw which
had been thrown out of a crockery crate!
Alick had pulled it out of his pocket with
his handkerchief, when he first came into
the store; but it fell so softly upon the straw,
that he did not hear it drop.



Here it is here is my half dollar!" he
exclaimed joyfully to the lady, who had fol-
lowed him into the store.
But now Mr. Girder put on a very serious
and threatening look, and told Alick the
money could not be his; and I am very
much afraid that if the lady had not come
forward to the assistance of the little boy,
and claimed the money for him, poor Alick
would have been cheated by cruel Mr. Gir-
der, whose heart had long lain cold and
heavy in the fetters of the Ice King.
"And now, Alick," said his kind friend,
"you must have some plums; for what
would a Christmas cake be without plums!"
So, to Alick's great delight, she bought
him some fine fresh raisins, and filled up his
little tin pail with oranges, and figs, and al-
monds; and what delighted little Alick even




more than to carry all these nice things
home to his mother and little sister, the lady
promised him that she would come and see
him, and help him eat his Christmas cake.
What a happy little boy was Alick that
night! and how fervently good Mrs. Alison
thanked God that he had delivered her dear
little child from the Tempter.


C4 A i
r, r^L,

^- ^_l

r'"' ~
*" ''




WHEN Annie Leslie was only ten years
old, she had the misfortune to lose her dear
mother by death.
Mrs. Leslie had been sick almost ever
since little Annie was a babe; and although
she loved the little girl very, very dearly, she
was not able to endure the least noise, so
that Annie could never stay in the room
with her mamma but a very few moments
each day. The rest of her time was spent
with the nurses and servants, who, to gain
favor with Mrs. Leslie, petted and humored



little Annie in every thing; for Mrs. Leslie
told them they must let her dear little girl
do just as she pleased, and never attempt to
oppose her wishes, but the very moment she
expressed a desire to have any thing, or do
any thing, whether right or wrong, she must
be gratified.
Now, this was not only very foolish, but
very wrong; and the result of such bad man-
agement was, that it made little Annie very
disagreeable to every body, except to her
poor mother, whose eyes were entirely
blinded to her faults. But poor Mrs. Leslie
was such an invalid that we must pity her
weakness, and not condemn her. If she
had been in health she would no doubt have
done very differently.
Well, as I said before, when Annie was
ten years old Mrs. Leslie died. Very soon



after this, her father, who was an officer in
the navy, and who was seldom at home any
length of time, was ordered off upon a long
voyage. He felt very much grieved, as you
may well suppose, to be obliged to leave his
dear and motherless little girl for so long a
time to the care of strangers. So he re-
solved at length to write to his sister, who
lived many miles away in a pretty town, and
ask her to receive his little Annie under her
care. The answer was satisfactory, and in
a few days, under the charge of an old family
servant, little Annie arrived at her aunt's.
When the coach stopped, Annie saw a
fine-looking lady standing in the door of .a
pretty cottage, holding by the hand a little
girl quite as tall as Annie herself, while a
boy about twelve years old was frolicking
with a beautiful dog in the high sweet


Mrs. Morland advanced to meet little
Annie, as she was lifted from the coach, and
kissing her tenderly on each cheek, she
said, -
"You, are welcome, my dear little girl.
Come here, Albert and Minnie; this is your
little cousin Annie Leslie. Kiss her, and tell
her how glad you are to see her."
The children came forward smiling and
blushing, and holding out their hands to the
little stranger. But fetching a shrill scream,
Annie stamped her foot, and throwing her-
self into the arms of the woman who accom-
panied her, cried out, -
"Go away. I won't be kissed! I want to
go home. I don't like you!"
"But you will like us one of these days,"
said Mrs. Morland, smiling; "so come into
the house now, and we will soon get ac-



quainted." And she attempted to take Annie's
hand to lead her in; but the child, still cling-
ing tightly to the servant, screamned,--
"I won't go in- take away the dog! I
hate dogs- take him away, you ugly great
"The dog will not hurt you, my dear; but
if you are afraid of him, Albert will take him
off," said Mrs. Morland, gently.
Master Albert looked very much insulted,
not only at the disrespect shown to his favor-
ite Fido, but that his little cousin should
apply the epithet "ugly" to himself; and it
was with a flushed cheek and an angry
glance at Annie, that, whistling to Fido, he
bounded away through an adjoining field.
After great coaxing, Miss Annie was at
length prevailed upon to go up the steps
leading into the pretty little porch, thence



into the house, where, after much resistance,
her bonnet and shawl were taken off. But
the little girl sat sulkily upon one end of the
sofa, and would not answer any of the ques-
tions her, aunt put to her, or even speak to
little Minnie, who had already brought her
new doll for her to play with, and one or two
pretty books besides.
Have you got a doll, Annie ? asked Min-
nie, sitting down on a little stool at her
cousin's feet.
To be sure I have. I don't want to see
your ugly doll; so do go away, go away, will
you? there!" and she pushed little Min-
nie's arm, who, with tears swelling to her
pretty blue eyes, walked away to the win-
dow, and hid her face in the curtain.
"What a small room this is, ain't it, Jane?
Why, it is not half so big as papa's parlor;



and what an ugly carpet, and what ugly
chairs!" said Annie, casting her eyes around
with a very disdainful air.
0, hush, Miss Annie; you must not talk
so! said the woman, looking half frightened
at Mrs. Morland.
But I will talk so, and say just what I
please," answered the naughty girl. "I hate
the place, and I won't stay here!"
"Fie, Miss Annie! you know your dear
papa has sent you here to live with your
aunt until he comes back, and she will love
you, and be kind to you."
"I don't want her to be kind to me, and
love me. I want to go home with you."
"If you can be happy without love and
kindness, you must be a very strange little
girl," said Mrs. Morland, smiling. "But
come, we will go in to tea. I think you can-
not live without eating, at any rate."



Annie sat down to the nicely-spread sup-
per table, but would scarcely taste of any
thing. Albert had returned, and quite got
over his pet; so he coaxed her to eat some
red ripe strawberries, which he had picked
from his own little garden on purpose for
her; but Annie only pouted, and pushed
them away from her plate.
By and by Fido must needs pop his
nose into the supper-room, just to remind
Albert, I suppose, that dogs could be hungry
as well as boys; but no sooner did Annie
espy him, than she sprang up on her feet
in the chair, and screamed as loud as ever
she could.
A nice playmate she will be, Minnie!
cross as a little bear!" whispered Albert to
his sister, as he indignantly left the supper
table, to take away the dog again.
This uncomfortable supper was at length



over; made so by the perverse and obsti-
nate conduct of little Annie; and soon after,
her aunt led her up stairs, and showed her
the pretty room in which she was to sleep,
and which, she told her, was to be her own.
Such a comfortable little room as it was,
opening right into her aunt's apartment!
There was a pretty green and white carpet
on the floor; there were white muslin cur-
tains to the windows, looped up with green
silk cord and tassels; and a bureau, and a
washstand, painted green and white to match
the carpet; and a pretty looking-glass hung
over the bureau. The chairs, too, were
white and green, and there was a little table
with a nice white napkin upon it, and in the
middle of it was a beautiful china vase filled
with roses, which little Minnie had picked
and arranged herself.


One could not help being perfectly
charmed with such a pretty room to sleep
in ?
But Annie, of course, did not seem at all
pleased or, grateful; because she was so
naughty that she was determined not to like
any thing she saw, or that her aunt and
cousins did for her.
Are you not sorry that the Ice King has
already touched Annie's young heart? Let
us hope that the spirits of the Sweet South
Wind may not be far off.
0 mother, how disappointed I am!" cried
Minnie Morland, as her mother came in
after seeing Annie in bed; "I don't like her
a bit!"
"Nor I, I am sure!" added Albert, hug-
ging the great shaggy head of Fido to his
breast. "I never saw such a cross thing as



she is! I wish she would go away if she
wants to so much. I should not cry; should
you, Minnie? should you, Fido !"
"Hush, my dear children; do not speak
so," said Mrs. Morland. "You must not
make up your minds so soon that you do
not like your cousin. I agree with you that
Annie seems a very different little girl from
what I hoped she would be; but when she
gets more acquainted with us, and we with
her, we shall perhaps like her very much."
"I shall never like her, I know!" said
Albert: why, how she screamed at Fide,
poor fellow! Such a fuss! No, no, Fido, she
shall not send you off every time you come
near her, that I can tell her!"
"But, Albert, if you had only seen how
she pushed me away, when I gave her my
pretty new doll! I don't think it was half
1 0



so bad for her to scream at Fido; do you,
mother ?" cried Minnie.
"Well, children, I know you have not
much reason to be pleased with Annie," said
Mrs. Morland. "If you had found her per-
fect, there would be no virtue in liking her;
so now try to love her with all her faults;
then, indeed, you will do well!"
"But she is so cross!" cried Albert.
"And she will not speak to me!" added
"Called me a great 'ugly' boy, and
pouted her lips at my strawberries!" urged
"And says she hates us all sobbed
Minnie outright.
"I know it, my dear children. Now, let
us see if we cannot make her love us," Mrs.
Morland said. "You must not forget that



Annie's poor mother was sick for a long,
long time, and probably the little girl has
either been left to her own self-will, or, what
is perhaps worse, been under the influence
of improper persons. This is a great misfor-
tune, but is not, I hope, without a remedy.
Although her manners are so very rude and
disagreeable, your little cousin Annie may
after all have a very kind heart."
"True, mother, so she may; and if she
did not scowl so, she would be very pretty,
wouldn't she? said Albert.
"What beautiful long curls she has! I
wish my hair was as pretty," cried Minnie.
"And what red cheeks!" Albert added.
"Yes, and her eyes are as blue as yours!"
said Minnie.
It seems, then, you find little Annie very
pretty," said Mrs. Morland, smiling; "well,



let us hope, then, my dear children, that her
beauty may be really her least attraction."
The next morning, long before Annie
awoke, the woman who came with her left
the village to return home. Mrs. Morland
thought it best she should do so, in order to
spare the little girl the pain of parting.
When Annie opened her eyes, she called
loudly for Jane, and upon being told that she
was gone, nothing could exceed her -I
really do not know whether to say grief or
anger; for she shrieked and screamed at a
terrible rate, seeming to be more angry than
sorry would not let her aunt or her cous-
ins come near her, and indeed behaved
very badly, spending the most of the morn-
ing kicking and crying upon the bed.
That was a hard day indeed, not only for
Albert and Minnie, but for Mrs. Morland



herself. The children were very sorry for
her, for they thought how bad they should
feel if they were taken from their own home
and left among strangers, and therefore they
did every thing they could think of to amuse
her; and Fido was shut up in the barn, poor
fellow! the most of the day, lest he might
cause some fresh disturbance to the wilful
On his part, for Annie's entertainment,
Albert brought forward his rabbits, and his
little fawn, and made his little bantam rooster
perch on his finger, flap his white wings, and
crow. Minnie ran up stairs to the play-
room, and brought down all her choicest
playthings; but finding her little cousin would
take no notice o( them, she coaxed the old
cat to let her have her four cunning little
kittens to show her. Pussy very obligingly



paid "miow," which of course meant "yes ;"
and so in came Minnie, holding the little
creatures carefully in her apron.
0, the ugly things! Do, for mercy sake,
take them away!" cried Annie, lifting her
hand, and striking the poor little black and
white kitty upon its head.
"O, Annie, how can you!" said Minnie,
almost crying, as she hastily ran back to the
old cat, and deposited the little brood safe in
the basket.
She then offered to show Annie pictures
out of the great books in the library. No;
Annie hated all pictures. Would she play
"Dr. Busby," or "Trades," or "The Man-
sion of Happiness," or "Loto "? No, Annie
hated all games. Would she like to walk in
the garden ? No. Would she like to go into
the fields, and pick berries? No.


Finding, at length, all their patient efforts
to please Annie successless, with a sad and
puzzled look at their mother, Albert and
Minnie took their books and sat down to
The next day, and the next, I am sorry
to say, Annie behaved no better. Her cous-
ins were perfect patterns of good nature,
and continued their efforts to make her
happy. It was of no use. She sulked all
day, screamed as bad as ever if Fido
came near her, and spoke in a very improper
manner to her kind aunt. Mrs. Morland
herself was nearly discouraged, and some-
times almost regretted that she had under-
taken so great a charge. The example, too,
of such a child as Annie, she felt would be
bad for her own children, especially for little
Minnie. Then she was a perfect torment to



poor Albert; all his favorite pursuits were
interrupted by her wilfulness; and indeed
Mrs. Morland had very great reason to fear
that the naturally cheerful and pleasant tem-
pers of bdth her children might be soured
by such constant trials as they were exposed
to through Annie's peevishness.
A week passed with no better results;
but Mrs. Morland loved the motherless little
girl with all her faults; while the gentle
spirits dwelling in her breast bade her per-
severe, and rescue poor little Annie from the
power of the Ice King.
Monday morning, Mrs. Morland called
Annie to her, and, smoothing her pretty
golden curls, she said,-
"I am very sorry, my dear little Annie,
that you are not more happy with us. I am
afraid it is your own fault, for I am very sure



that your cousins have done all they could
to amuse you, and to make you feel con-
tented and happy. I can no longer allow
them to give up so much of their time to
you. They must now resume their studies
and other employment which I allowed them
to put aside for your pleasure. You can
join them in their studies if you wish, and
in their play hours: at nine we shall go
into the library."
"I don't want to go. I cannot bear to
study!" pouted Annie.
Very well, Annie, I shall not compel you
at present to follow my rules," said her aunt,
"but I am very, very sorry to hear you say
that you do not like to study. I am afraid
your dear papa would be very much grieved
if he knew it."
The tears stood in Annie's eyes as her



aunt said this, for she loved her papa; but
she was so very naughty and stubborn, that
she would not give up; so she only shrugged
her shoulders, and said she was sure she did
not care.
Never in all her life had little Annie Leshe
felt so lonesome as she did that morning
after Albert and Minnie had gone with their
mother into the library; for although she
refused to play with her cousins, it was some
pleasure to this naughty girl to have them
to fret at, and find fault with. What to do
with herself she did not know. She did not
like to read, and of all things she hated sew-
ing. She missed Albert's good-humored
laugh, and little Minnie's pleasant smile; and
she now thought she should really like to
have them come and play with her.
At last Annie walked out into the garden;



there she picked all Minnie's prettiest flow-
ers, just for mischief, because she threw them
right away; and for mischief, too, she tram-
pled down Albert's strawberry bed. Then
she thought she would go and look at the
little chickens; but the old hen made a great
fuss cried out, Cluck, cluck, cluck;" and
when Annie stooped down to catch one of
her little chicks, she flew at her sun bonnet
in such a fury, that the old red rooster and
all his family came in great haste to inquire
what the matter was; but the turkey-cock
declared he would not have such a noise in
the poultry yard; so he spread out his tail
with a grand flourish, and with an angry
" Gobble, gobble, gobble," he chased Annie up
and down the yard, and all the way out of
the gate, screaming and crying with terror.
Fido, who lay very composedly under the



shade of the old elm-tree, winked his eye
lazily, and lolled out his tongue with great
satisfaction, as he saw Annie's fright. He
was a polite dog, and would, no doubt, have
gone to the assistance of any other little girl,
and remonstrated with Sir Gobbler upon his
rudeness, but Fido felt that he had not been
treated as a dog should be, and therefore, as
Annie ran swiftly past him, he thought it
rather a good joke to growl and show his
white teeth, although he would not have
hurt the little girl for any consideration.
Several days passed on. Annie saw her
little cousins cheerful and happy, apparently
just as much interested in learning their
lessons as they were in their sports, and
many and many a time she wished that she
felt as happy as they did. She could not
help seeing that it was her own fault, and



knew there was nothing which prevented
her enjoyment but her own stubborn will;
and yet she was so naughty that she would
not yield, but continued to go moping and
fretting about. Sometimes indeed, but rarely,
she suffered herself to be amused, and for a
-little while would play very pleasantly with
her cousins; but these occasions were so in-
frequent that they gave no satisfaction either'
to Albert or Minnie. They began at length
to tire of Annie's whims, and held long talks
together not very flattering to their little
cousin, and by mutual consent they soon re-
solved to let her entirely alone. Day after
day, therefore, they arranged their little
sports, and took long and pleasant walks into
the woods and fields, without the least refer-
ence to little Annie, who was thus left to seek
her own amusements. When she noticed



this, it made her feel very unhappy and
ashamed, for she knew she deserved it, and
that she had not treated her cousins as she
ought to have done. She became more gen-
tle in her nianners, seemed more desirous to
please her aunt, and one day she even went
so far as to offer Minnie her own beautiful
wax doll which could open and shut its eyes.
Minnie looked up wonderingly, and then,
very much pleased, she took the doll to play
with; but as she thought it was only a sud-
den whim of Annie's, it made no difference in
her feelings, and she soon ran off to join her
brother, leaving her little cousin once more
Mrs. Morland had been a silent observer
of all that was passing, and although she
was sorry to see this almost total alienation
of the children, she began also to feel some



encouragement, for she saw that the ill nature
and obstinacy of Annie was gradually wear-
ing away. She could not really blame Al-
bert and Minnie, either, for keeping so en
tirely away from their cousin, for she knew
they had both been very patient and kind to
the little g r; yet she did not think it was
right to encourage them in slighting h r,
particularly as she saw that it made the
child uuhappy. So one evening she said to
them, -
"My dear children, I have a little story to
tell you; should you like to hear it?"
"A story! yes, indeed, dear mother; I do
love to hear you tell stories," exclaimed.
"And so do I," said little Minnie; "will
you tell it now, mother ?"
"Yes, but first let us go into the piazza,



the moon is so beautiful, and there is such
a pleasant breeze."
So Mrs. Morland took her seat, and the
children gathered around her. Albert sat
down at her feet, Minnie drew a little bench
close to her side, while Annie stood near,
leaning against one of the pillars, the soft
moonbeams resting upon her face, and the
sprays of the fragrant honeysuckle waving
about her head.
"My story," said Mrs. Morland, "I shall
"Once upon a time -"
"Yes, that's it how delightful!" cried
Minnie, clapping her little hands; that is the
way I love to have stories begin -' Once
upon a time.' 0 Albert, won't it be nice?"
Mrs. Morland smiled, and commenced



"Well, once upon a time, there was a
large ship sailing across the Indian Ocean.
She was bound for China, and on board of
this fine noble vessel were a great black
bear and a dog. The dog, to be sure, was
an old sailor, and had made several voyages;
but it was the first trip of the bear, and the
captain of the ship was taking him to China,
to present to an old mandarin, who lived in
"Now, between these two animals, the dog
and the bear, there was a great deal of ill
feeling: there was nothing about them in
common, and they never passed each other
on the deck, or any where else, without
showing their dislike, the dog by growling,
and the bear by snapping his white teeth.
The captain would sometimes set them fight-
ing, though he took good care to separate



them before they could hurt each other; and
often would chain them together by a short
iron chain, and make them run around the
deck, the bear trying to go one way, and the
dog the other; but as the bear was the strong-
est, the poor dog was dragged along, very
much against his will, just where the other
pleased to go. Well, one day, while they
were chained in this uncomfortable manner,
they seated themselves, as if by tacit consent,
near a coil of ropes, and the captain, who
happened to be walking the quarter deck,
was surprised to hear something like a con-
versation going on between them. Curious
to know what these two creatures could be
saying, he leaned over the side of the vessel
pretending to be watching the beautiful
waves, and the great porpoises, which every
moment came tumbling by, though in reality



he was listening to the dog and the bear.
So he heard the bear say in reply to some
remark which the dog had just made, -
"'Perhaps you are right, but I cannot help
it. I do not like you, and I never shall like
you; and let me tell you, Mr. Dog, if I could
but catch you in the woods, I would very
soon show you the difference between a dog
and a bear.'
"' That may be, Sir Bruin,' answered the
dog; 'and upon my honor,' (and here he
laid his paw upon his heart,) -'upon my
honor there is no love lost between us, and
I think the difference you speak of could
soon be settled on land!' whereupon he
gave his tail a most important whisk, and
elevated his nose high in the air.
"' You do not intend to say, I hope, that
you could master me!' said the bear, stand-



ing upon his hind legs, and showing his
"'I say nothing, I boast nothing,' the dog
replied. 'There is something in your black
shaggy hide, your long sharp nails, and in
your disposition, very repugnant to the
honest feelings of a dog. But now, Sir
Bruin, I am older than you, and my experi-
ence has taught me that animals are often
so situated as to be forced to associate with
those whom they dislike as much, probably,
as we dislike each other; and I believe this
is also the case with mankind. I judge
from what a dog's life has shown me. Now,
this is exactly our case, and yet we cannot
escape each other; we meet in our daily
walks about the ship, we meet in the night
watch, and we meet at the caboose when we
go for our meals; and, what is worse, the



captain often cruelly chains us together as
we are now. Then, let me ask you, what is
the use of our quarrelling all the time, and
making ourselves even more disagreeable to
each other than nature intended? Sup-
pose, then, that we agree, for the rest of the
time we are to live together, to go along
peaceably and in good fellowship. What
say you?'
"' With all my heart,' answered Bruin;
'for what you say sounds like good sense.
Yet, should we meet on shore, we will-
ha, you understand me!' and the bear shook
his head and grinned fiercely.
"'0, I take your meaning, friend,' replied
the dog; 'here is my paw upon it. But
until then, let us try to make our voyage
together pleasant. Our natures, it is true, are
very unlike, as also our education; yet I do



not see why we cannot study to make our-
selves agreeable and friendly. Ah, Bruin,'
the dog continued, with a melancholy shake
of his head,' I have lived long enough to
know that there is not too much comfort in
the world, and I have learned too that we
make a great deal of our unhappiness our-
selves. I shall hereafter endeavor to con-
form as much as I can to whatever situation
I am placed in. Once more I say, Sir Bruin,
since we are compelled to live together, let
us try to make each other happy. Give us
your paw!'
"The bear gave a short, complacent growl,
and extended his paw, taking care to draw
in his long, sharp nails. The dog. shook it
very cordially, and then, stretching them-
selves out on the deck, side by side, they
were soon asleep; and the captain walked



away determined also to profit by. the lesson
learned from the dog and the bear."

"I think I know what you mean by this .
story, mother," said Albert, looking up archly
into Mrs. Morland's face.
"So do I," said Minnie; do you, Annie?"
Annie blushed, and hung down her head
for a moment.
"Yes, I think I know what aunt means."
"Then, my dear children," said Mrs. Mor-
land, "if you all understand the meaning of
my story, can you not do as well as the dog
and the bear ?"
Albert and Minnie laughed merrily at this.
"Yes, yes, we will try, mother!"
"Then kiss and be friends, and I hope I
shall never again see any thing but harmony
between my three children."



But little Annie held back: she looked
first at her aunt, then at her cousins; the
tears came swelling to her eyes, and then,
* throwing herself into her aunt's arms, she
said, -
"O, my dear aunt, I have been a very
naughty girl! I wonder how you can be so
kind and good to me, and Albert and Minnie
too! 0, I never will be so bad again. I
will try to be your own little girl, aunt; yes,
I will, if you will only forgive me!"
"Yes, Annie, you have indeed been a
very naughty child, but I am glad to find
you willing to acknowledge your faults. If
you are really sorry--and I believe you
are- you will now try to do better. We all
love you very much, my dear little girl," con-
tinued Mrs. Morland, pressing her to her
bosom and kissing her, "and I shall be very,



v.ry happy to return my dear Annie to her
papa cured of those faults which have caused
her little cousins here, and her aunt, so
much grief. Yes, Annie, I forgive you, and
you shall be my dear little girl."
By this time Minnie was crying too, and
kissing Annie's cheek, while Albert, with his
arms thrown around both, was patting their
heads and kissing them by turns.
Fido, disturbed by all this, got up from his
bed of moonshine, shook himself to be cer-
tain that he was really awake, and then,
walking gravely up to the party, inserted his
cold nose within that wreath of loving little
arms; and as Annie rose from her aunt's
shoulder, she saw him as he stood there
wagging his tail, and looking, on the whole,
rather sleepish.
"Ah, Fido, Fido, I know I have been a



bear to you, poor fellow. Come, let's be
friends, will you? 'Give us your paw.'" And
Fido, as if he perfectly understood her,
laughed as only a dog can laugh, and put
his great shaggy paw in her hand.
Hurra! hurra for the dog and the bear!"
cried Albert, leaping over the balustrade
down into the dewy clover. "Follow me,
Annie; come, Minnie; now for a run in the
garden by the bright moonlight. 0, I am
so happy! Come, Fido, come along, old fel-
low!" And then, as the little girls sprang to
his side, he caught Annie in his arms, gave
her another hearty kiss, and then away went
all three bounding down the walk, with Fido
jumping and frolicking after them.
From that evening Ill Humor and Self-will,
the two spirits of evil which the Ice King
had sent into the heart of little Annie, gradu-





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