The Baldwin Library
. ./T "- r
THE HAPPY FAMILY,
AND OTHER STORIES.
MRS. GEORGE CUPPLES,
AUTHOR OF "1BERTHA MARCITMONT," "THE STORY OF OUR DOLL,"
"ORANDPAPA'S PRESENT9" ETC.
WITH A PICTURE ON EVERY PAGE.
T. NELSON & SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW;
EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.
Also uniform, price 16 cents each, with a Picture on every
page, bound in boards, with elegant colored design.
By Mrs. GEORGE CUPPLES.
The Shepherd Boy.
Stores for the Winter.
The Happy Family.
The Pretty Mar-morset.
In the Prairie.
A Kind Friend.
Hold Firm, Please.
The Cat and the Rat,
Mary and her Doll.
T. NELSON & SONS.
EDIoBURHn, NaW YORK, AND LONDDON
A WILD COAST.
THIS is a wild coast; and here is the ship Charley,
the midshipman, was in before he joined the
frigate. They were very nearly wrecked, but
after a time they got safely away. While they
were waiting for the tide to float the ship off,
Charley managed to pick up many pretty shells
to take home to his friends. He also got some
lovely little crabs; and ever so many strange-
looking small fishes, which he put into bottles.
They were so bright-coloured, and he did his best
to keep them; but they died, and their colour
faded. Yes, Maggie, the pretty piece of coral on
tfu side-table was made by little insects ; and if
you wish to know how they look, I must tell you
they are shaped like your school-bag, when the
strings are drawn tight, only very, very small.
THE TALL GIRAFFE.
I MUST now show you a very singular-looking
animal. Here he comes. This is the giraffe.
It must be a very fine sight indeed to see a herd
of these mighty animals. Their tall necks reach
to the topmost boughs of trees, from which they
can readily crop off the leaves. Thus the hunter
often mistakes them for branches of dead timber.
Their flesh, it is said, is highly scented with
the perfume of the flowery shrubs on which the
animal feeds; and one hunter tells us, that to ride
into a troop of giraffes reminds one of the smell
of a hive of honey. Giraffes are very docile and
gentle in disposition; and a gentleman who once
shot one went forward and stroked its forehead,
when it showed neither fear nor anger.
I MUST now show you quite a different scene.
Here is a gondola sailing through the city of
Venice. Instead of streets like ours, they have
water everywhere about; for Venice is built on
islands, and many of the houses on piles driven
into the water. It is certainly very funny to
sail from one part of a town to another, and do
your shopping with a gondola waiting instead of
a cab; but, after all, it is much nicer to have
streets like our own, so that one can walk about
with freedom. There is a lady inside this gon-
dola, and she is going away to pay some visits.
She is not only enjoying the sail, but the song
the boatman is singing as he pushes and steers
the strange-looking boat along. He is singing
that song Clara is so fond of,-
SHow sweetly sings the gondolier,
Along his watery way."
As we are in Italy, I must next show you an
Italian organ-boy. Poor fellows, they sometimes
come a long way, in the hope of making a little
money in the different large cities. There are a
number of visitors staying at the hotels, and he
goes from one to the other, singing:-
Oh gentlemen, if you be villing
To give me von English shilling,
You vill see a raree show-
Quickly come, or I vill go.
Too rail oo rall oo rall aye,
Ninganee, ninganee, ninganee nae
"Oh! ladies, listen, while I tell
A story you vill like so veil:
Zeventeen boxes just come over
In the packet-boat from Dover,
Full of silks and laces too-
Too rail oo rall oo rall oo,
Ninganee, ninganee, ninganee nae "
AN ITALIAN BANDIT.
THIS is an Italian bandit. He is watching eagerly
to catch sight of a carriage he fancies he has
heard in the distance. It is to be hoped the
travellers are well armed, else they will stand a
poor chance of escape ; for if the long gun misses
aim, the robber has a great pistol in his waist-
belt, and one or two small ones, all loaded. Then
there are sure to be many more robbers lurking
about, ready to come to their comrade's assist-
ance. They are no doubt resting in their cave,
drinking some of the good wine they have got as
a ransom for some rich man. It is a good thing
they do not always kill their prisoners, but give
them a chance to get back to their friends, by their
paying a large sum of money for their liberty.
WE could hardly leave Italy without paying a
visit to the Pope. Here is a portrait of him, in
his splendid robes; and he is in the act of bless-
ing the people. The keys we see in the picture
are supposed to be those the Apostle Peter handed
over to the first Pope. That is what the Roman
Catholics believe, at anyrate. It is a great day
in Rome when the Pope blesses the people. They
flock from all quarters of the globe to be present;
and many people who are not Roman Catholics
go there too, to see the sight. It is a great
honour to be allowed to kiss the Pope's toe.
Though Tommy is laughing at such an idea, I
assure you it is quite true. The present Pope
is now a very old man.
A HIGHLAND LAKE.
HERE is a scene far away from Italy and the
Pope. It is a Highland loch, or lake; and it
looks very like Loch Ard, near Aberfoyle. That
is where the river Forth runs out of; and also
where the well-known Highland robber Rob Roy
used to lurk about. There is a cave there, in
which he used to hide when he went down to
the Lowlands to steal cattle. When you grow
older, you must read the whole story about him
and his clever wife: how she frightened a magis-
trate once-and how he was led into sad trouble
by one of the clan-and how he fell over a preci-
pice, and hung suspended by the skirt of his coat
between the rock and the water below till some-
body came to his rescue.
HERE is a pretty little tomtit, or titmouse. He
is a very sharp, clever little bird. If you have a
garden, you may have noticed him and his little
wife building their nest in a hole in the wall.
The entrance to it is so small that it is impos-
sible to get in more than two fingers. There
they bring up their young; and if you watch
them, you will be surprised to see how often they
fly past you with food in their little bills. They
pick up insects and caterpillars, so that they do
a great deal of good; for the caterpillars would
destroy the flowers and vegetables, if left alone.
In winter a tomtit will often come into the house
and fly about, quite at home.
A WILD BOAR.
HERE is rather a fierce-looking animal. This is
the wild boar in his lair; and he is known to be
as fierce as any animal found in the jungle of
India. England has now no wild boars-only
tame ones; but in different parts of the world
they are still to be seen. It is said that the wild
boar roams about the jungle, fearing not even
the terrible tiger; he eats his dinner close to the
tiger's den, and even drinks out of the same pool
with him. Yet it is not from affection; but the
boar knows the tiger is afraid of his great tusks,
and that he will let him alone. A boar was
once known to keep at bay four full-grown
panthers. He stood with his back against a tree
till he tired two of them quite out, and then
rushed upon the other two, and escaped.
THIS is the graceful chamois, something between
a goat and an antelope, and called by the German
Swiss, gemazi. There is a lovely poem written
about it which I should have liked you to learn,
but it is very long. Here are a few lines:-
"By a gushing glacier fountain
On the giant Wetterhorn,
'Midst the snow-fields of the mountain,
Was the little gemazi born;
And the mother, though the mildest
And the gentlest of the herd,
Was the fleetest and the wildest,
And as lightsome as a bird."
The chamois has quick ears, as well as being
sure-footed, and gives the hunter much trouble to
get near it. This pretty animal is not only very
cautious, but has the power of scenting man a
very long way off; and if its sharp eyes see even
a faint track of footsteps in the snow, it will
bound off in quite another direction, sounding the
alarm to the herd by a peculiar whistle.
"QUACK! quack!" No; this is not a duck,
but a young goose; and we call it at that age a
gosling." It has its home on a great bare rock
in the middle of the sea, where its wise mother
has brought it up in a secure place. Madam
Goose knows that there are many men ready to
pounce upon her and her gosling, so she lays her
egg out of their reach. She has to put it on the
bare rock; but God has taught her to hold it
with her foot, and He has provided the egg with
a gluey matter that helps it to stick to the rough
stone. The gosling is looking out over the sea,
wondering if his wings will be strong enough to
carry him away to a new and distant home on
MY Magic-Lantern has shown you a number of
pictures about soldiers, and here is the garrison
where they all stay. It is a time of peace now,
and they have returned from the wars: the
soldier-boy is quite ready to tell his stories to
his little brothers and sisters, and make their hair
almost stand on end to hear of his deeds of
daring. They have left many of their comrades
dead on the field; and many have been sent home
ill, or are lying in the foreign hospitals still. But
the band is playing a merry tune, and they are
all looking as if nothing had happened to them;
but I daresay, when they go to bed at night, they
will start in their sleep, and keep fancying they
hear the cannons booming. How glad they will
be to wake and find it only a dream !
THE "WATER-WITCH" AT HOME.
AND here, too, is our friend the Water- Witch,
lying snugly at her moorings. After a long
cruise, Jack Tar and Charley, the midshipman,
have returned, both safe and sound. Charley
has got leave of absence, and is hoping that
before the time expires he may be promoted to
another ship; but Jack Tar is still on board.
His wife lives not very far away; and as he is
very well behaved, the officers often allow him to
go ashore to see her and his little children. There
are several more ships lying close beside the
Water- Witch, some larger, some smaller; but Jack
Tar thinks that none of them can come up to his
own frigate for beauty, and tosses his head in
scorn if any one ventures to say anything else.
HERE is a Malay. He has not got a very hand-
some face, but he is very strong and active. Malays
live about the Straits, on the way between India
and China, and in the large islands there. They
used to be sad pirates, and would attack every-
body they met; but now they are more civilized,
and are ready to work for very small pay. They
are very lively and good-natured; but they take
strange drugs sometimes, and lose their senses,
which is to be regretted. This man's skin is
yellow, his hair the colour of soot, and his eyes
are like a Chinaman's. You would laugh, I
know, if you saw them eating their rice, scooping
it up in the hollow of their hand. Yes; China-
men, and some Indians too, eat their rice with
bits of stick, instead of using spoons as we do.
A STREET RIOT.
"OH dear what can be the matter ? Listen,
and I will tell you. This is a street riot. It is
election-time in the town, and there has been a
quarrel. A boy in the crowd has perhaps thrown
a rotten egg, and this has made somebody angry;
and then, because the boy was chased, every,
body began to fight. See! there are two men
down in the dust-one on his back and one on
his face. There is another quietly pelting stones
or something from the balcony. He is wise to
keep up there out of the hubbub, though perhaps
you may think it is rather cowardly. I can't
help thinking he is wise; because there are so
many fighting, that if he were to come down it
would only make matters worse.
AN OLD WATCHMAN.
I AM glad to say the riot is over. Here comes
the old watchman on his rounds. It is a very
wet night; but he has got his greatcoat well
buttoned up about his throat; and even his ears
are hidden-nothing can be seen but his old
nose, which is no doubt a very red one, for
Johnnie Frost nips it very often. We have no
watchmen in our towns now like this; but when
our grandfathers were little, the watchmen used
to go about the town during the night. And when
the great town clock struck the hours, they called
it out in this way-" Two o'clock," (or whatever
the hour happened to be,) and a frosty morning,"
(or whatever the weather happened to be.)
HERE are two armed knights. They are charg-
ing at each other with their long lances, trying
which will knock the other off his horse. It is
called a tournament; and the king and the queen,
and all the fine lords and ladies of the court, have
come out to see the show. The queen is to give
the prize; and she is leaning forward, anxious to
see who will be the victor, and hoping that no
one may be hurt. The horses are just as anxious
about it as their masters, and are galloping in
fine style. They are covered with cloth of gold,
all beautifully embroidered; and it does make
them look queer. No, Harry, you are wrong; it
is better that this sort of thing should be done
away with. When you are older, you can try for
the Queen's prize by being the best volunteer.
FIGHTING A DUEL
"AH what is this ? I fear these are the same
knights, and that they have lost their temper.
They have met privately, after the king and the
queen have gone back to the palace, and they are
now determined to kill each other. Their battle-
axes are very sharp; and though their faces are
covered with their iron helmets, a quick, strong
blow may cleave them open. I am sure we may
be very glad we live at a time when such things
are not allowed to be done. The knights of
old were always very anxious to show how brave
they were; but don't you think people can be
brave without fighting duels? Of course they
can. When quarrels arise, if one could only fight
a duel with one's-self, and get the better of his
evil temper, I should say that person deserved to
be called brave
HERE we have a more peaceful scene, though
it too belongs to olden times. This is a monk of
the Romish Church going off with his book and
his beads, while another one sits quietly read-
ing in a great book with clasps. In those days
no one had printed books, they were all written;
and those who wrote them tried to make them
as beautiful as possible. They thought a very
great deal of the few books they had then; and
if they could only see the number of books in
the book-shops nowadays, they would be very
much astonished. What would make them
wonder most, would be to see how young people
toss them about, and leave their Bible to gather
dust on it very often.
A YOUNG THIEF.
OH dear! Don't laugh, if you please. I don't
wonder at you feeling a little inclined to smile,
Master Tommy; for it is funny at first sight to
see the poor old gentleman marching calmly on, so
intent upon reading his newspaper that he never
feels the wicked thief pulling out his hand-
kerchief from his pocket. But when we think
what a sad life that pickpocket must lead-how,
with all his cleverness, and the number of fine
things he manages to carry off, he is always poor
and miserable, we ought rather to cry than laugh.
See what a tattered, thin, miserable-looking boy
he is; and how frightened he must be, lest the
policeman catch him in the very act! Perhaps
he has had wicked parents, who taught him how
to steal, and whipped him till he learned.
AN OLD MAN-OF-WAR'S-MAN.
HERE is somebody I know you will all like to see.
He is called a pensioner; but though he is poor,
he does not need to be ashamed, because he has
served his country faithfully. He was a sailor
in the time of the great Lord Nelson (that was
long before our old friend Jack Tar was born),
and he fought against the French, and was in
ever so many naval battles. He would be de-
lighted to tell you how he was at the battle of
Trafalgar, and saw the signal flying from Nelson's
ship-" England expects every man this day to
do his duty And the old pensioner would tell
you how proud he was to be under such a leader.
I think George might now be so good as favour
us with the song, Rule, Britannia!
z ---:-- --- *
HERE is another we must not despise. He is
'only a pedlar, but he is an honest man. He goes
from village to village selling his wares; and the
'children, who have not the same opportunities of
*spending their pennies as you who live in large
towns have, are always delighted to see him. He
'carries lovely strings of beads, and pretty needle-
-cases, and a few toys; for his case is not a very
large one, and he must keep a great many more
useful things, such as needles and pins, reels of
cotton, and thread, and all sorts of buttons. But
the pedlar will bring a lovely doll, or a pretty
picture-book, for a birthday or Christmas present;
and that is another reason why he is such a
A BRAVE FIREMAN.
AH I here is a brave fellow Well may he wear
a helmet, and a hatchet by his side like a battle-
axe He is the leading fireman,-the firemaster,
as he is called. No hero or knight of old ever
did a braver thing; for here he is jumping amidst
the blaze, through the falling beams, fighting the
flames, with the water-pipe in his hands. He
will dash through the blinding smoke and heat
to save any of the inmates; and he has been
known to peril his life in saving some old bed-
ridden woman, or little sleeping baby, that had
been left in some distant room. I am glad to
say everybody got safely out of this building
when the fire began, but a great deal of furniture
READY TO START
HERE is a merry company. Toot-a-hoo-toot-a-
hoo! blows the guard of the mail-coach, to let
his passengers and all the town know his horses
are ready to start. It is rather a cold morning,
and the passengers have a good long journey
before them; but they have very wisely put on
their warm overcoats, and wrapped their necks
up with warm comforters. The old gentleman
sitting in front of the guard is looking rather
melancholy: even the gay toot-a-hooing of the
horn has not driven away his low spirits. But,
as you may see, Jack Frost has been giving the
poor old gentleman's nose a little bit of a pinch,
and it has made it quite red and sore.
ON A RAFT.
AH! here is a very different view indeed. I
wonder how the old gentleman would like to be
one of these sailors! Instead of his nose only
being cold, I fear his toes and his fingers-in
truth, all his body, would be suffering. These
poor fellows have been wrecked; but they have
very cleverly managed to make a raft, and have
got one or two boxes and barrels of biscuits and
water on it. They have put up a mast and sail,
too, and are getting on wonderfully well; but
they are very glad, for all that, to see a ship
come sailing down in their direction. See how
they are waving something, and trying to draw
the attention of the look-out man on board! I
hope the sailors in the ship will see them, and
send out a boat to take them on board.
HERE is a pilgrim walking bravely on, with a
long staff in his hand, and a little flask of oil or
water at his belt. He also has a red cross sewed
on the sleeve of his white mantle, and a scallop-
shell fixed under the brim of his flapping hat.
He is going to the Holy Land; and he has to
beg his way, because he has no money of his own,
and must depend upon the charity of others. He
has committed some sin, and he fancies that if he
only reaches the Holy Sepulchre, and worships
there, his sins will be forgiven. Mary says,-
" Can't he say his prayers at home ?" Yes, he
could; but he does not know that God is willing
to hearken to the earnest prayers of sinners at any
time and in any part of the world, for Jesus' sake.
A SQUALL COMING.
AH! I fear poor Jack Tar is again in a sad
plight. Here is his ship in a very rough sea,
with the black clouds gathered behind it. A
storm is beginning to blow it away from the
land; and see all the smaller vessels are tossed
about, though their crews are doing their best to
get them into shelter. Jack Tar and his friends
have put out as many sails as possible, so that
the wind may carry them out to sea and away
from land. Clara and Maggie think this is a
very strange thing of Jack Tar to do, but George
will be able to tell you that it is really the
wisest way. It is far safer to be out in the open
sea during a storm than close to the shore, be-
cause at any moment they may be dashed to
pieces on the rocks.
GOING TO THE POLICE-STATION.
HERE is another sad sight-a boy being marched
off to the police-station. He has been stealing,
I am sorry to say. But we must not be angry
with him overmuch; nor call him a horrid
creature, as Maggie has done. Poor boy, he has
never known any better, for he has had bad
parents, who have never told him it was wrong
to steal,--indeed, they stole things themselves
whenever they could get the chance ; and as they
were very poor, the little boy was often very
hungry. He could not resist the look of the
tempting apples that were peeping up over the
wall, and so climbed up and took them. It was
very naughty; but I have known boys who
were not hungry, and who were well taught,
steal apples whenever they got a chance.
THIS is the poor boy's father. He stole so often,
that they were forced to banish him as a convict.
He has to work very hard all day under the eye
of an overseer, who scolds him if he stops to take
too long a rest. He is not allowed to speak to
any of his fellow-prisoners, so that he is very
thankful to have the work to do, as it helps to
pass the time away. He would like to make his
escape if he could; but see, there is a soldier
standing as sentry watching him. He has his
bayonet fixed ready, and so, if his gun missed
fire, he would be able to run him through the
back. It is to be hoped the convict will not try
any such thing, but go on with his work; and
if he behaves himself very well, he may get home
sooner than he expected.
WHO is this, I wonder? It must be Tom Green.
He has stolen cleverly away from his companions,
and fancies he has got beyond their sight; but he
has forgotten he has left his shadow behind him.
"Perhaps he has played truant! Is that what
you were saying, little Maggie? Oh, I don't think
Tom Green would be quite such a bad boy! No;
I rather think he is playing hide-and-seek, or
some other game. He is running very fast,
throwing up his heels in fine style; and I can't
help wishing he may get safely away, for Tom
Green is a favourite of mine. He is a good
scholar, I feel sure, because he makes 'uch a very
A "BLACK FELLOW."
HERE is a wild savage, who seems to have been
lurking in the bush. He has been startled, and
aims a spear, at the same time giving the signal
to his native friends-Cooo-o-ee He cries like
a strange bird. If the signal is answered, then
the spear will not be thrown, as he will know it
is a friend. It is to be hoped the poor convict
will know about this, for it is very likely he who
has startled the savage; and some of them are
very fierce and cruel. The natives of Australia
are called "black fellows; and if they are all
like this one, they are black enough. They are
a set of low, cunning men, and can with difficulty
be taught to do anything for themselves. For a
long time they did not know how to make fire.
MY DOG NETTLE.
THIS is a portrait of my dog Nettle. Isn't he a
beauty ? He is very clever, too, which is far
better than being simply good-looking; for we
all admire a dog which is clever. Nettle can
catch rats, and can kill them too. It would
surprise you very much to see how fast he
does it. If a rat gives the tiniest squeak, up go
his ears, and down go his fore-paws firmly on the
ground-just as you see him doing now, for he
fancies he hears something like a rat-and then
off he starts, dashing with his nose and paws at
the hole, and in a moment out he hauls the rat
by the tail, or back, or head, or anything he can
get a hold of, and with a toss into the air he
kills it dead. Oh, no; Nettle is far too dainty a
dog to eat it.
2_~-- : --"- 6 :
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