Citation
My own book

Material Information

Title:
My own book
Creator:
Louderbach, James W ( Engraver )
Dalziel, Edward, 1817-1905 ( Engraver )
Dalziel, George, 1815-1902 ( Engraver )
Arthur, T. S ( Timothy Shay ), 1809-1885
J.B. Lippincott & Co ( Publisher )
Butterworth and Heath ( Engraver )
Place of Publication:
Philadelphia
Publisher:
J.B. Lippincott & Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
144 p. : ill. ; 21 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1877
Bldn -- 1877
Genre:
Children's poetry
fiction ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Includes illustrations engraved by Butterworth and Heath, Lauderbach, and the Dalziel Brothers.
Funding:
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
Statement of Responsibility:
edited by Uncle Herbert.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
022693250 ( ALEPH )
23025151 ( OCLC )
AHH8837 ( NOTIS )

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Full Text














= 2 py
J.B. LIPPINCOTT & CO PHIL?

























































































MY OWN BOOK.



EDITED BY

TO EN Gos Sa Se a ey dee eh

EDITOR OF
“THE PRATTLER,” “THE BUDGET,” ETC., ETC.

PHILADELPHIA:

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.



Copyright, 1877, by J. B. Liprrncotr & Co.



CONTENTS.



PAGE
Masew’s Story .....- - 7
Tue Snow Fort. . . .. - 9
Over THe Fence... .. 10
Tom anp His Cousins ... It
Farner is Coming. . =... 12
Story of A Doa@. .... - 13
Tye Wuite Rose ..... 14
J GUHTHAOL A nm inte ee LO
EVVEATEIG Nee Med aeen eo) bee toc eal EELG
Tne Stray LAMB .. ..- .- 17
TMI SW ALOWi 1 = spt) ko ween LO
VOIR I Teme cee nxn etme mtn OO)
Mam IROBENG Eee oe eee ee Nem oe
Tue EAGLE AND THE Fox . . 28
Tur PRAIRIE ON Fire. . . . 24
A Goop-Nicut Sona ... . 26
Tue TRAVELLERS AND THE BEAR 27
Tue WoLF AND THE LamB. . 28
Tur Trur SECRET... .. 29
Our DaRLING. . .... . 80
Met WELORS Fis eri ete) eh co Romeore
BRInGwUSErUL wie ttnne eee con
Tue Loar or Bread... . 384
OISIMBUMUANII Suet tema tec erases es
AGAINST QUARRELLING AND
EVE GHEREN Gefen evi oe ee
A SumMM@r CAnL. % 2.02 0. 89)
MM ROOW Se ert iss aa pace
Picaay’s Misston. . . . . . 42
Frossiz’s Brrps . . . . . . 48
Frepinc THE Brrps ... . 46
Lirtirn Pussy. . . . . =... 46
Tue Roapsip—e Inn. . ... 47



Tue Snow Batt .

Tur SxetcH Book
Suine Your Boors, Sir?
Tue OLtp MILu

A Cripple ror Lire

I Dipy’r TuHInk .

Ture DrumMMER Boy
JENNIE pias

Tur EsQuiMaux .

Mr. Nopbopy

Onty Going Down TO Dane 8.
ANNA’S STAY AT THE SEASIDE.

LitrLe THINGS

Rovin AND Rose.

Maxine SUNSHINE

GoosEY, GoosEY, GANDER.
Tue LittLe ARTIST
Papra’s Lone Story

Tue Cock AND THE Fox.
Power or KINDNESS

THE WoLrF F

A. Kiss, Nor a brow ‘
Tue Stray CHICKS .

My SISTER ... . . eke
THE SAILOR AND THE raoke
SEE, THE STARS ARE CoMING
AMY ..

Sona FOR THE iors oe
Ture Youna Ropins

On THE Sanv-Bar

Don’t Lac...

PRAYER :

Oup Krrren-Cat.

PAGE

48
49
50
52
5¢

54
56
57
58
60
61
62



Hymn For A LitttE CHILD

THe Erper Duck :

Tue Fox AND THE TIGER

AnNaA’s RESOLUTION :

Tue Fox witHout A TAIL .

Tur ANTS

Tue Sick KITTEN

TuE Cow

A CHILD’s FANcY

PRIDE.

THe Drab Rone

A Kinp Worp SoMETIMES

Tue SprpER-WEB

EVENING PRAYER

Wuo FEEDS THE Birps?.

Cora ALDEN’s NeEW-Y EAR’S
Party .

THe Ponp

My Pussy Cat

A Hawk AMONG THE Be

Sine, Brrpig, SING . z

Tue Dogs or St. BERNARD .

CONTENTS.

PAGE
92
93
95
96
97
98
99

101
102
103
104
106
107
108
109

111
115
117
119
120
121



Tue OLp MAN oF THE Moun-

TAIN.

Tue LItrLe saws
Do.iy .

THE SISTERS :
Two Lirrte Kirrens .

Tut Farm ‘
ONLY A BaBY Bias, 2
Don’t Kitt THE BIRDS

A CRADLE SONG .

THe BEAR

FatHeEr’s Boots

CHARLIE.

SPEAK GENTLY i
You Can’r CATCH THE er
Tue LirtrLe CHILp’s WIsH .
One THING AT A TIME
Biowine Soap BUBBLES .
Tue Beiy Birp.. f
Tue Lion, BEAR, AND Fox :
THE JACKDAW.

GRANDPA AND HIS Haine



PAGE

123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
183
134
185
186
137
138
139
140
141
142
148





MY OWN BOOK.



MABEL’S STORY.

’M a big girl, not five years old, an’ I’m goin’ to tell my
i own story. Aunty writes it down an’ I tells it.
To go way back to the beginning. Six years ago
Mabel—that’s me—was a baby. I don’t exactly merember
how she looked or what she was mostly thinking of, though
I’ve heard a great deal ’bout that time, for I was so little then,
you see, an’ babies are so ignorant.

First Pll tell you my name—Mabel Weston, though grumpa
calls me “ Dolly,” an’ Uncle Will calls me “ Blossom,” an’ some-
times ’'m “Queeny,” “Mother Budget,” “Birdie,” an’ lots of
other names. Once they called me “Babel,” ’cause I called
myself so when I couldn’t say “Baby Bell;” and they all
thought my name was a good one.

Ive lived a good while, an’ done a good deal, an’ seen a great
many things. I know ever so much, too. I’ve heard ’em say
so when they thought I was playing with my dollies.

7



MABEL S STORY.

“Tt’s really s’prisin’,” says grumpa, “how much Mabel knows,
sayin’ off her little verses so pretty, an’ readin’ like a—like a
magpie.”

“She’s an uncommon child,” says grumma.

“No,” says aunty, “only a grunchild.”

“’Tisn’t that,” says grumpa, real quick. “Mabel can jump
rope, read, recite, knit, sew, or run better than any little girl
ever I knew, child, grunchild, or stranger.” An’ of course
grumpa knows best.

I’m good, too. I sit still in meetin’ always, unless I want
a drink, or to reach a fan, or Bible, or hymn-book, or my boots
hurt, or I want to see something better than I can in my own
seat in the pew. I don’t never kick my heels ’gainst the pew
nor swing the door nowadays. ‘

I love my darling Uncle Will, an’ he ’most always has some
candy for me when he comes home from town. I like to ge an’
meet him.

I’ve got a dear little calf with a white nose as cold as can be,
an’ a blue ribbon round its neck.

We have eighteen chickens. I know it’s eighteen, ’cause
three times nine an’ twice six are both eighteen; or is it twice
nine and three times six? I’ve learned it once, any way, an’ I
merember that it was when aunty was eighteen she first took
care of buying her own clothes.

Once when mamma was away I wrote her a letter. That’s
me in the picture, writing the letter.

I haven’t told you half I could, but aunty thinks I’ve said
enough. I haven’t told you how pretty mamma is, how good
erumpa an’ papa are, an’ all the rest of ’em. “Bout what a
pretty chamber I have for my own, an’ my playthings an’ story-
books, an’ what nice times Susy Walker an’ me have ’most
every day, but if aunty thinks best, Pll say good-by.



THE SNOW FORT.































THE SNOW FORT.

UR snow fort, our snow fort,

We've built it up in haste ;

“We knew not when the frost might break,
We had no time to waste;

So first we gathered up the snow,
And piled it in a heap;

For melons, ice, and snow forts,

Are things that will not keep.



Our snow fort, our snow fort,
We'll gather balls of snow,
And pelt it and bombard it,

As fast as we can throw.
9



OVER THE FENCE.

So gather up the balls, my boys,
And try to scale the walls ;

But take care the foe inside the fort
Don’t kill us with their balls.



OVER THE FENCE.

SE OYS are often tempted to get over a fence.
} “What for?” “What kind of a fence?” two or
three voices ask.

There are a good many kinds of fences. Fences that
you can see, fences that you can’t see. Fences of wood, and
stone, and iron; and fences invisible to human eyes.

“Tf we can’t see them, what good are they, I'd like to know?”

That question does look a little puzzling at first. But when ~
we come to think about it, the matter will grow plainer. Right,
truth, justice, are all fences. We can’t see them with our bodily
eyes, and yet they exist, and cross our ways in life as really as
any material fence; and if we jump over them, we shall be doing
just as wrong as if we leaped the fence our neighbor has put
around his garden and spoiled his fruit and flower-beds.

Sotomon’s WARNING TO THE SLUGGARD.—Go to the ant,
thou sluggard; consider her ways and be wise; which having
no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer,
and gathereth her food in the harvest. -How long wilt thou
sleep, O sluggard? When wilt thou arise out of thy sleep?
Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands
to sleep; so shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and

thy want as an armed man.
10



TOM AND HIS COUSINS.



TOM AND HIS COUSINS.

T was a great day for Tom when he obtained permission
from mamma to go into the country for a holiday with
his little cousins. And it was quite as great a day for
the little cousins when they heard the good news. What

a happy day they made of it, scampering through the meadows,
swinging on the gate, and thinking of nothing but happiness!
How delightful it must have been to have sat under the shadows
of the big trees, pulling the pretty cowslips and twisting them
into long chains!

Don’t you wish, my little readers, you had been there?

—— -~~
A wrrrte fellow was eating some bread and milk, when
he turned around to his mother and said, “Oh, mother, I
am full of glory. There was a sunbeam on my spoon and I

swallowed it.”
11



FATHER IS COMING.





























































































































| He’s through the garden-gate.

)Run, little Bess, and ope the door, — 7
And do not let him wait.

Shout, baby, shout! and clap thy hands,

For father on the threshold stands.

—______+—~en—-___—_.

Tur Sueep-SrEarmne.—A young mother led forth her little
daughter Ida to see the sheep-shearing. But the little maiden
wept at the sight, and said, “Oh, how cruel it is of men to treat
the poor creatures thus !”

“ Not so,” answered her mother; “for thus has it been ordered
by the good God, so that man may be clothed with their wool.
For man comes into the world without covering.”

“But how the poor sheep will shiver now!” exclaimed Ida.

“Ah, no!” replied her mother; “God gives to man the warm

clothing, and to the shorn lamb He sends the soft summer air.”
12

















































































































STORY OF A DOG.

HESE dogs in the picture are King Charles spaniels.
They are very beautiful, their colors being black, tan,
and white. They sell for a very high price.

I heard a sorrowful story the other day about a dog.
A hound which had served her master faithfully as a hunting dog
for many years at last became old and useless. As she could
hunt no longer, her owner begrudged her food and shelter. So
she was made to lie out on the cold, hard ground all through
the winter, and was fed barely enough to keep her alive. She
became so thin that she was like a skeleton covered with skin.

Finally this poor old dog, nearly blind and deaf, and so
feeble she could not stand, seemed about té die. So her master
took her in his arms, and, carrying her out into the wood, laid
her down and left her to die.

When I heard this story, it made me feel badly, and I won-
dered how any one could be so hard-hearted as thus to abuse
and forsake one who had been so faithful a servant.

13






THE WHITE ROSE.





























































THE WHITE ROSE.

WHITE rose that grew far up ona trellis felt very
ae and sighed to be down in the garden where the
’ children were at play.

“T am of no use away up here,” she said. “ Nobody
sees me, and when I breathe out my sweet odors, the wind bears
them off among the tree-tops and they are lost.”

But even as she sighed her complaints a soft hand reached
down from a window and took her gently from the stem that
bore her, and she heard a voice say,—

“How pure and sweet !—pure as my patient Lily.”

Then the hand that held her tenderly bore her to an inner
ehamber, where a sick child lay upon a bed.

“This beautiful white rose,” said the voice which had sounded

so sweetly, ‘came up from the garden and grew close by the
14



SO HIGH!

window. It has breathed the purest air and drank the warmest
sunshine. Its heart is full of sweetness.”

And the hand held her close to the sick child, who was re-
freshed by her beauty and fragrance.

Then the rose quivered with delight, and, breathing out her
very heart upon the air, filled the chamber with a rich perfume.

“Tam content,” she said a little while afterward, as she lay
on the pillow beside the sick child, her soft white leaves touch-
ing the cheek as soft and white as themselves.





































SO HIGH!

HAT a little thing am IT!
Hardly higher than the table :
I can eat and play and cry,
But to work I am not able.

15





WILLIE.



























WILLIE.
ILLIAM, or Willie, as his father loves to call him, is

a funny little fellow. His great delight is in looking

at the sea; he will sit for hours with his boat in his

lap trying to understand the meaning of the white
caps that flash in the sunlight. He will leave his horse and
ball, or any other toy, to go and sit alone on the rocks. On his
birthday his sister Mary brought him a nice new boat, all
painted bright red. I should not wonder if Willie would some-
time be a sailor.



16



THE STRAY LAMB.















—— =

THE STRAY LAMB.

OME, children, leave your play and let the poor little

moth fly around unharmed, and I will tell you a story.

Eagerly the little ones gathered around mamma, who
told the following story.

There was once a shepherd who had a great many sheep and
lambs. He took care of them, and gave them sweet, fresh grass
to eat, and clear water to drink; if they were sick he was very
good to them, and when they climbed up a steep hill and their
lambs were tired he used to carry them in his arms.

But every night when it grew dark and cold the shepherd
called all his flock, sheep and lambs together, and drove them
into the fold, where they lay as snug and warm and comfortable
as could be, and the dogs lay round on the outside to guard
them; and in the morning the shepherd unpenned the fold and
let them out again.

Now, they were all very happy, and loved the shepherd

dearly, all except one foolish little lamb. And this lamb did
2 17



THE STRAY LAMB.

not like to be shut up every night in the fold, and she came to her
mother, who was a wise old sheep, and said to her, “I wonder
why we are all shut up every night; the dogs are not shut up
and why should we be shut up? I think it is very hard, and I
will get away if I can, I am resolved; for I like to run about
where I please, and I think it very pleasant in the woods by
moonlight.” Then the old sheep said to her, “You are very
silly, little lamb; you had better stay in the fold. The shepherd
is so good to us, that we should always do as he bids; and if you
wander away, I dare say you will come to some harm.”

“T dare say not,” said the little lamb. And so, when the
evening came, and the shepherd called them all to come into the
fold, she would not come, but crept slyly under a hedge and hid
herself; and when the rest of the lambs were all in the fold fast
asleep, she came out and jumped and frisked and danced about;
and she got out of the field and went into a forest full of trees,
anda very fierce wolf came rushing out of a cave, and howled
very loud. Then the silly lamb wished she had been shut up
in the fold; but the fold was a great way off, and the wolf saw
her and seized her, and carried her away to a dark den, all
covered with bones and blood. There the wolf had two cubs,
and the wolf said to them, “Here, I have brought you a young
fat lamb.” And so the cubs took her and growled,over her a
little while, and then tore her to pieces and ate her up.

Now, all girls and boys who do not mind what is said to them,
and will have their own way, may be, like this lamb, in danger
of being hurt, and they may have cause sorely to repent not
having minded what their parents said to them.



A uitTLe boy disputing with his sister about something
said, “It’s true, for ma said so; and if ma says it’s so, it is so,
of ut isn’t so.”

18



THE SWALLOW.



THE SWALLOW.

y N the warm summer it is pleasant to watch the restless
p | swallows, ever on the wing, wheeling round and round
» ~ With their wide-spread wings and forked tails, catching

the insects which form their food. If the air be moist,
these insects cannot fly high, and the swallow must skim along
very near the ground to seek its prey; then we judge that rain
will soon fall, for the swallow flies low. But when the autumn
comes, and the wind blows cold, the swallows gather in crowds
at some unknown signal, and take their flight across the seas to
some warmer climate; they will sometimes rest on the masts of
a ship in their long flight. The next summer the swallows
return to their old nests, as if they had reason like man. We
know that God has given reason to man alone; but his bounty
has given the swallow the instinct which guides it to the spot
best fitted for its wants.

\

>

Some men are proud that they are strong; but not all the
strong men in the world could drive back the sea, or stay the
wind, or hold the clouds so that the rain should not fall. God

can hold the sea, and still the wind, and stay the rain.
19







ROBERT.
) OBERT was a clever boy at school; his teachers were



very fond of him, and took great delight in getting
him on with his lessons. His mamma had no trouble
with him, for he would go into his room with his
favorite, Rover, and learn his lessons without a murmur. He
was very anxious to know about everything, and often puzzled
his mamma by asking more questions than she could answer.
Sometimes, when it was dark, he would slip into his room to
have a peep at the moon and stars. Once he looked through
a telescope at the moon, and saw the dark spots upon it they
call mountains. Robert was a good boy, and made up his
mind to learn his lessons well, and know everything.



Tae Two Facres.—One was old and wrinkled, the other
young and smooth, and soft as a rose-leaf; and yet, looking at
the two faces, you would call the old one the most beautiful.
Why? A beautiful soul gave sweetness to that face, while a
mean and selfish soul shadowed the other. Discontent, envy,
anger, peevishness, love of self, will, if suffered to rule in the
heart, gradually change the most lovely face until it becomes
repulsive; while contentment, and the love of others which seeks
to do them good, will, in time, give to plain and unlovely features
a touch of beauty. It is no light saying, that “the good are
beautiful.”” They have beautiful souls, and, sooner or later, the

soul stamps its image on the face.
20





Fe

* SEs

ee
eee FZ

See
See
FF pSSsswryz
DSS











THE ROBIN.



THE ROBIN.

OME, here little robin, and don’t be afraid,
I would not hurt even a feather;
Come here, little robin, and pick up some bread,
To feed you this very cold weather.



I don’t mean to hurt you, you poor little thing,
And pussy-cat is not behind me;

So hop about pretty and put down your wing,
And pick up the crumbs and don’t mind me.

Cold winter is come, but it will not last long,
And summer we soon shall be greeting;
Then remember, sweet robin, to sing me a song,

In return for the breakfast you’re eating.
22



THE EAGLE AND THE FOX.



THE EAGLE AND Prue FOX.



N eagle that had young ones, looking out for something
\ to feed them with, happened to spy a fox’s cub that lay
c | basking itself abroad in the sun. She made a stoop and
trussed it immediately; but before she had carried it
quite off, the old fox, coming home, implored her, with tears in
her eyes, to spare her cub, and pity the distress of a poor fond
mother who should think no affliction so great as that of losing
her child. The eagle, whose nest was up in a very high tree,
thought herself secure enough from all projects of revenge, and
so bore away the cub to her young ones, without showing any
regard to the supplications of the fox. But that subtle crea-
ture, highly incensed at this outrageous barbarity, ran to an
altar, where some country people had been sacrificing a kid in
the open fields, and, catching up a firebrand in her mouth, made
towards the tree where the eagle’s nest was, with a resolution
of revenge. She had scarce ascended the first branches, when
the eagle, terrified with the approaching ruin of herself and
family, begged of the fox to desist, and, with much submission,
returned her the cub again safe and sound.
If you intentionally injure your neighbor, you put yourself

in his power.
23



THE PRAIRIE ON FIRE.







































































THE PRAIRIE ON FIRE.
mH E long grass, burned brown

A) In the summer’s fierce heat,
SY Snaps brittle and dry
’Neath the traveller’s feet,
As over the prairie,
Through all the long day,
His white, tent-like wagon
Moves slow on its way.

But hark! in the distance
The dull, trampling tread ;
And see how the sky
Has grown suddenly red!
What has lighted the west
At the hour of noon?
It is not the sunset,

It is not the moon!
24



THE PRAIRIE ON FIRE.

The horses are rearing
And snorting with fear,
And oyer the prairie
Come flying the deer,
With hot, smoking haunches,
And eyes rolling back,
As if the fierce hunter
Were hard on their track.

The mother clasps closer
The babe on her arm,
While the children cling to her
In wildest alarm ;
And the father speaks low,
As the red light: mounts higher:
“We are lost! we are lost !
Tis the prairie on fire !”
The boys, terror-stricken,
Stand still, all but one;
He has seen in a moment
The thing to be done ;
He has lighted the grass,
The quick flames leap in air;
And the pathway before them
Lies smoking and bare !

Now the fire-fiend behind
Rushes on in his power,
But nothing is left
For his wrath to devour;

On the scarred, smoking earth
They stand safe, every one,
While the flames in the distance
Sweep a on.

5



A GOOD-NIGHT SONG.

Then reverently under
The wide sky they kneel,
With spirits too thankful
To speak what they feel ;
But the father in silence
Is blessing his boy,
While the mother and children
Are weeping for joy.



A GOOD-NIGHT SONG,

20 bed, to bed, my curly head,

) To bed, and sleep so sweetly ;

Merry and bright, with the morning light,
Be up and dressed so neatly.



Then for a walk, and a pleasant talk
About the birds and flowers ;

And all the day, in work and play,
We'll pass the happy hours.

And then to bed, to rest the head,
And sleep until the morrow:
May every day thus glide away,
Without a shade of sorrow.
TuE dew-drops on the summer morn
Sparkle upon the grass ;
The village children brush them off
As through the fields they pass.
There are no gems in monarch’s crown
More beautiful than they,
And yet we scarcely notice them,
But tread them off in play.
26



THE TRAVELLERS AND THE BEAR.



THE TRAVELLERS AND THE BEAR.

cxewo men being to travel through a forest together, mutu-
| ally promised to stand by aa other in any danger they
—’ should meet upon the way. They had not gone far
before a bear came rushing towards them out of a thicket;
upon which one, being a light, nimble fellow, got up into a tree;
the other, falling flat upon his face and holding his breath, lay
still while the bear came up and smelled at him; but that crea-
ture, supposing him to be a dead carcass, went back again into
the wood, without doing him the least harm. When all was
over, the spark who had climbed the tree came down to his
companion, and, with a pleasant smile, asked him what the bear
said to him; “For,” says he, “TI took notice that he clapped his
mouth very close to your ear.” “ Why,” replied the other, “he
charged me to take care, for the ve, not to put any confi-
dence in such cowardly rascals as you.”

Professions of friendship are of little avail till they have
been tried.





Ay indolent boy rarely, if ever, becomes a good business man.
27



THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.



THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.

NE hot, sultry day, a wolf and a lamb happened to
come, just at the same time, to quench their thirst in
the stream of a clear silver brook that ran tumbling
down the side of a rocky mountain. The wolf stood

upon the higher ground, and the lamb at some distance from

him down the current. However, the wolf having a mind to
pick a quarrel with him, asked him what he meant by disturbing
the water, and making it so muddy that he could not drink?
and at the same time demanded satisfaction. The lamb, fright-
ened at this threatening charge, told him in a tone as mild as
possible that, with humble submission, he could not conceive
how that could be, since the water which he drank ran down
from the wolf to him, and therefore it could not be disturbed so
far up the stream. “ Be that as it will,” replies the wolf, “ you

are a rascal, and I have been told that you treated me with ill

language, behind my back, about half a year ago.” “Upon my

word,” says the lamb, “the time you mention was before I was
born.” The wolf, finding it to no purpose to argue any longer

against truth, fell into a great passion, snarling and foaming at
28





THE TRUE SECRET.

the mouth as if he had been mad; and drawing nearer to the
lamb, “Sirrah,” says he, “if it was not you, it was your father,
and that is all one.” So he seized the poor innocent helpless
thing, tore it to pieces, and made a meal of it.

A person bent on injuring one more innocent than himself,
will never lack excuses.



THE TRUE SECRET.

\ T the house where I was staying, there were two little
\ sisters whom nobody could see without loving, for they
were always so happy together. They had the same
books and the same playthings, but never a quarrel
sprang up between them—no cross words, no pouts, no slaps,
no running away in a pet. ~ On the green before the door, trund-
ling hoop, playing with Rover the dog or helping mother, they
were always the same sweet-tempered little girls.
“You never seem to quarrel,” I said to them one day: “how
is it you are always so happy together?”
They looked up, and the eldest answered, “TI s’pose ’tis ’cause
Addie lets me and I let Addie.”





LirtteE Turnes.—Springs are little things, but they are
sources of large streams; a helm is a little thing, but it governs
the course of a ship; a bridle-bit is a little thing, but see its
use and powers; nails and pegs are little things, but they hold
the parts of a large building together; a word, a look, a smile,
a frown, are all little things, but powerful for good or evil.

Think of this and mind the little things.
29



OUR DARLING.

y OUNDING like a football,
ly Kicking at the door ;
ly alling aan the table-top,
Sprawling on the floor ;
Smashing cups and saucers,
Splitting dolly’s head ;
Putting little doggie
Into baby’s bed.

Building shops and houses,
Spoiling father’s hat,

Hiding mother’s precious keys
Underneath the mat ;

Jumping on the fender,
Poking at the fire,

Dancing on his little legs—
Legs that never tire.

Making mother’s heart leap
Fifty times a day ;

Aping everything we do,
Every word we say.

Shouting, laughing, tumbling,
Roaring with a will,

Anywhere and everywhere,
Never, never still.

Present—bringing sunshine ;
Absent-—leaving night ;
That’s our precious darling,

That’s our hearts’ delight.
30



THE HORSE.



_ I will tell you of what great use he is to man. He can
draw great loads for miles, to towns far off, or we could
not sell our corn and hay. We can ride on his back

half the day, or we can put him in a gig and he will trot fast,
and soon take us where we wish to go; and if we give him some
hay and oats at night, he is quite glad. Poor, good horse! we
ought not to whip or spur him, but be kind to him, for he is a
good friend to us. He knows a great deal more than you would
think; for, if he has gone once to a place, he can find his own
way to it the next time he goes.

We will give him some clean straw for his bed, and some oats
and hay to eat.

A dray horse can draw great loads. A gig horse can trot
fast. .A horse which men use when they hunt can jump high
and far ; and a race horse can run so fast that no dog can pass it.



WHEREVER you are and whatever you do,

Oh never, no, never, forget to be true!
31



BEING USEFUL.





BEING USEFUL.

But once was smaller still;
I used to cobble up my work,
And do it—oh, so ill!

I only quite a little girl,

And yet I always took such pains,
And thought I worked so well ;

Perhaps you don’t admire it yet,
Only you will not tell.

I can’t quite thread my needle yet,
They make the hole so small ;

Mother’s the only one that can, .
For granny can’t at all.

And father says he can’t see how
We women ever can;
The needles have such little eyes,—

But then he is a man.
32



BEING USEFUL.

I am but quite a little girl,
But I am useful too,

For mother says so; I know how
Quite many things to do.

The cradle I can rock, and sing,
And carry baby out

A little way, and then I let
Him creep and trot about.

The dinner I can help to set,
And put away the tea;

And many things there are to do,
Just fit for Tom and me.

Sometimes we play at sweeping up,
And making all things neat;

We'd like to set the world to rights,
And have it clean and sweet.

But people laugh when we say so,
And say, “It can’t be done;”

But granny sighs, and says it might,
If “each one mended one.”



A x1npty word, a soothing look,
Have ready aye for all;

We are our Maker’s handiwork;
He made us, great and small.
We're all the children of his care;
Oh, then, for His dear sake,

Be sure such usage still to give

As you would like to take.
33



THE LOAF OF BREAD.













THE LOAF OF BREAD.

OME, children, if you will all sit down and keep quiet, I
will tell you a story father read to me last night.
The little ones all agreed to Tom’s proposition, and
were soon seated around him.

So Tom began, as follows :—

In a time of famine a rich man allowed twenty of the
poorest children in the town to come to his house, and said to
them, “In this basket there is a loaf of bread for each of you;
take it, and come again at the same hour every day till God
sends better times.”

The children pounced upon the basket, struggled and fought

over the bread, because each wished to have the largest and best
34





USEFULNESS.

loaf, and then they went away without a word of thanks to
their friend.

But Francesca, a little girl meanly though neatly dressed,
stood at a distance, and gratefully took the loaf that was left in
the basket, which was the smallest, then she kissed the good
man’s hand and went quietly home.

The next day the children were just as naughty and ill-be-
haved, and this time there was left for poor Francesca a loaf
that was hardly half as large as the others. But when she
reached home and her mother cut the bread, there fell out a
number of new pieces of silver. The mother was frightened,
and said, “Take back the money this moment, for it is certainly
in the bread by mistake.”

Francesca took it back.

But the kind man said, “It is no mistake, my good child: I
had the money baked in the smallest loaf in order to reward
you. Be always as contented and yielding as you now are.
He who is contented with the smallest loaf, rather than quarrel
for the largest, will receive abundant blessings.”



USEFULNESS.
qn said little Annie Ray,

a ‘|. “ Why must I sit and sew?
Sb Ww



hy must I dust the room each day ?
I’m sure I do not know.

“You say that ’tis less trouble
For you these things to do,
Than spend your time in teaching me;

And that I’m sure is true.”
35



USEFULNESS.





















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































“But none, my Annie, ever live
In the bright world above,

But those who here on earth have striven
Others to help and love.”

“QO, then,” said Annie, “T’ll try each day
A useful child to be,
And gladly do the little tasks

That you appoint for me.
36



USEFULNESS.

“Then, mother, let me run and play ;
The little birds are singing,

The lark is on his upward way,
The bee his honey bringing.

“The butterfly from flower to flower
Roams o’er the smiling meadow,

The little brook sings on among
Sunshine and silent shadow.”

“ And he who would be glad as they,
Must be as useful too,”

The mother said, as to her side
Her child she fondly drew.

“Not for himself the light-winged lark
Sings as he upward soars,

But for his mate and nestlings dear
His song of love outpours.

“Not for himself the laden bee
Flies home on weary wings ;

My Annie knows what honey sweet
From fields and woods he brings.”



37



AGAINST QUARRELLING AND FIGHTING.



(fe ET dogs delight to bark and bite,
For God hath made them so:



For ’tis their nature, too.

But, children, you should never let
Such angry passions rise :

Your little hands were never made
To tear each other’s eyes.

<0 _—__

WueEy little ones worry
Their parents feel sorry,
And all who are near them are sad;
But when they are good,
And smile as they should,

Their friends are contented and glad.
38



A SUMMER CALL.



















A SUMMER CALL.

RLS and boys, come out to play,

Trees are green and fields are gay,

~ While little birds carol on every spray—
Girls and boys, come out to play.



Leave your slates, and close your books,
Come explore my pleasant nooks,
And see your shadows in mirroring brooks—

Girls and boys, come out to play.
By



A SUMMER CALL.

Tread the springy sward again,
Gather hawthorn down the lane,
And link the delicate daisy chain—
Girls and boys, come out to play.

Come in quest of violets rare,

Twine the primrose in your hair,

And seek for the hyacinth fresh and fair—
Girls and boys, come out to play.

Heed—oh, heed my loving call!

Fly the city’s frowning wall,

I’ve a kiss for the cheek of one and all—
Shall bring the roses into play.

Be ye rich or be ye poor,

Child of gentle, or child of poor,

Alike to you do I open my store,

“So gather your May buds while you may.”



40



THE COWS.



as Ge

THE COWS.

‘yy UN down the lane as fast as you can, and you will be in
dy time to see the cows. The gate is wide open, and they

will all walk into the yard. One of them has a calf,

of which she is very fond; you will find that she will
go up to the cowshed to see it, for she can hear it low. Cows
give us milk; and there is no part of a cow that is not of some
use, when it is killed. You have a cup and a shoe-horn made
of the cow’s horn; and you have a box made of its bone; and
part of your shoe is made of its skin; and you often dine on
beef and eat suet dumplings.

At one time cattle lived in a wild state, and men used to go out
and hunt them; a few of this sort are yet kept in the parks.
Last year your aunt took me to see some wild cattle that were
kept in a park not very far from her home. I did not see them
very well, for they were a long way off, near a dark wood, and
we did not wish to go very near them. The man at the gate
told us that when he goes into the park, the herd will come up
to him, but not very near: then one bull will come out from the
herd to look at him, and paw the turf with his hoof, and toss his

head, and lash his tail, and then dash off; but by and by he
4l



PIGGY’S MISSION.

will come back, and stop, not far from the man this time; and
so he will go on till the man gets out of his way, for fear of
being tossed.

When a calf is born, the cow will hide it in the fern, till it
can run; but if any one goes up to it, it will butt with its head
and paw the turf, just like an old bull.



PIGGY’S MISSION.

SRED’S father had committed to him the care of the pigs
7 and the hens. The hens were all right. They stayed
in their pens till they were let out, and went to bed in
good time.

But the pigs Fred didn’t love, particularly one that always
would be getting out, and then away he would go.

One morning Fred sat down in his mother’s neat kitchen,
with a look of desperation on his face.

“Well, Fred, and what now?”

“T just want to know what that pig’s good for. She’s out
again, and when I went to drive her in, away she went, like mad.”

“TJ really can think of but one thing,” said his mother, quietly.

“What’s that ?”

“JT hardly think you will agree with me.”

“J will. She’s of no use now but to try my patience, and I
should like her put to some other purpose.”

“Tam glad to find you agree with me, after all,” said his
mother, smiling. “TI really can see no use for poor piggy just
at present, but to try my boy’s patience. And if patience shall
have its perfect work, I think that even piggy’s mission will
not be an unworthy one.”

Fred wisely concluded that if that really was all that piggy
was good for, he would try and bear it cheerfully. And so

piggy’s mission was accomplished.
42





FLOSSIE’S BIRDS.



FLOSSIE’S BIRDS.
1 HIRP—chirp !

+
| Flossie loved birds, but for some reason she was not
* ready to feed them that morning, though she was in the

habit of doing so, and had made them so tame that they
came every day expecting it, and would hop so near as almost
to be touched, looking up in her face with their bright, fearless
eyes.

It was a splendid summer morning. Flossie’s home wore an
inviting aspect, nestled in among elms and lindens; a grassy
lawn in front sweeping down to the road, flower-garden and
orchard on one side, and on the other a broad, beautiful river,
glistening in the sunlight and reflecting the blue sky, sprinkled
with fleecy clouds. At a little distance stood an old mill, its
water-wheel plashing musically, and beyond were other homes,
wooded hills, and waving grain-fields.

But all this beauty seemed lost upon the little girl, who sat
moodily in the side of the porch.

“What is the matter, Flossie?” asked her aunt, coming up
the walk.



FLOSSIE’S BIRDS.

“Oh, auntie, I wanted so much to go to South Shore to-day—
we expected to—and father won’t! It’s too bad !”

“No doubt he has some good reason, dear; you know he
very seldom refuses you a pleasure. You can go some other
day ; we shall have warm weather some weeks yet.”

Auntie tried to change the current of the little girl’s thoughts
or rouse her to some unselfish act; but Flossie persisted in
making herself uncomfortable, and her aunt went into the house.

A robin flew down close to his little friend, and two or three
sparrows hopped about, asking as plainly as they could for their
wonted meal; but she was too much wrapped up in herself to ,
heed them.

She arose and walked slowly along the garden path. Here
and there were chairs, and Flossie sat down in the grape-arbor.
The day was very warm, and she fell asleep.

The little birds she had neglected seemed to come to her, and
(for you know all sorts of queer things happen in dreams) she
began to understand their notes and chirpings. What did they
say to her?

Well, first they sang together a pretty song about the beau-
tiful morning, the green woods and flowing river, the sunny
sky and grand old hills; their own cozy nests, where baby-
birds were waiting for them to bring home breakfast.

“Oh, birdies,” said Flossie—for she began to feel for them—
“T haven’t helped you any this morning; I wi// give you some
crumbs.”

There were some quick little chirpings which meant,—

“Thank you! We’re very glad; we were afraid you had
forgotten us and wouldn’t care for us any more.”

Then a robin hopped up to her and chirped,—

“What is the matter? You don’t look as if you felt well
and happy, as we do. Are you sick?”

Flossie by this time felt quite ashamed that she must tell her
, 44



FEEDING THE BIRDS.

feathered friends the lovely morning was lost to her because she
could not have her own way !

“Well, I would not sit and think about it,’ warbled the
robin; “we don’t when we cannot find what we want, or have
things as we like best. We go right about our work. If we're
building nests, we keep building as nicely as we can. If we’ve
egos, mamma robin sits patiently, not letting a breath of cold
air touch them, while I do the providing. If we’ve young birds,
we fly round and hunt up food, feed them, brood them tenderly,
teach them to fly and sing. We all have our work to do, and
for others besides ourselves; we do it cheerfully, constantly, not
for reward or from fear, but out of love.”

“Yes, that’s it,” piped Bobolink ; “and we don’t stop to fret.
If it rains to-day, we say, sunshine to-morrow.”

“Tf anything goes wrong,” chimed in yellow-bird, “ we sing,
more days coming! Even if we lose our nests—and we do
grieve sorely over that—we take courage and build others. We
get our sunshine, make the most of it, and the rain don’t last.”

A swallow flew down to the river’s edge to drink and bathe;
and as Flossie watched him merrily splashing the water over
himself with feet, wings, and head, she thought she would never
let her mother need tell her to be tidy. The bad feelings were
melting away, the sunshine coming back to her heart.



FEEDING THE BIRDS.

~ OME, little birdies,
Come and be fed,
I’ve brought you a lapful
Of nice crumbled bread.

45





LITTLE PUSSY.

















































LITTLE PUSSY.

LOVE little pussy, her coat is so warm ;

And if I don’t hurt her, she’ll do me no harm.
So Pll not pull her tail, nor drive her away,

But pussy and I very gently will play.

She’ll sit by my side, and I’ll give her some food,
And pussy will love me, because I am good.

My kitty is gentle, she loves me right well ;
How funny her play is I’m sure I can’t tell.
Now under the sofa, now under the table,

She runs and plays bo-peep as well as she’s able.
Oh, dearly I love her! You never did see

Two happier playmates than kitty and me.
46



THE ROADSIDE INN.





























THE ROADSIDE INN.

HIS is a very old inn by the roadside, called “The Jolly
Fishers,” though why it should be called by that name
I can’t say; but inns have very funny names sometimes.
I wonder if they will give that poor man something to

eat, who looks so tired as he leans up against the fence. He

has been walking along the dusty road, and is no doubt glad to
rest awhile before going farther on. What a funny-looking
little man on horseback away at the other end of the picture.

See if your sharp eyes can find him.





Goop boys and girls should never say,
“T will,” and, “ Give me these:”
O no; that never is the way,
But, “ Mother, if you please.”
47



THE SNOW BALL.











Vw

THE SNOW BALL.



i (2 URRAH! hurrah! for the snow. What a big ball we
4!) have made! Little Ned has his wheelbarrow to help

carry the snow. Kitty and Bess have not got their
hats; they'will catch cold, I fear. Nurse does not know
they are out; but they are good little girls, and will go in when

she calls them.

Lire is a see-saw game at best,
And whether you’re up or down,
Do your duty, and don’t forget

’Tis better to laugh than frown.
48



THE SKETCH BOOK.



THE SKETCH BOOK.

C~OGETHER sat the sisters, looking over their book, hardly
All knowing how to express their delight at the many beau-
¢ tiful pictures which met their eyes.

There were old castles, standing like grim sentinels
upon the brinks of frowning precipices ; lovely lakes, in which
were mirrored the graceful trees and sloping hills that encircled
them; and there were many rural scenes, where were simple
cottages with their pleasant surroundings; flocks feeding on the
river-banks, and “quiet cattle standing knee-deep in the gliding
waters.”

“See!” said Gertrude, as in turning a leaf she caught a
glimpse of a lovely group of children. ‘This must be a picture
of the German family brother Herbert has mentioned in his
letters. ‘Good-night to the sun’ he has written under it. See,

Laura! ‘There is little Gottleib away out on the edge of the
4 , 49



“SHINE YOUR BOOTS, SIR?”

cliff, with his staff in one hand and his hat in the other, stretch-
ing out his arms and looking as if he were singing.”

“ And that sweet young girl,” said Laura, “ who stands there,
shading her eyes with her hand, must be the good Annette he
wrote to us about, who is so like a mother to the other little
ones.”

‘‘T remember about her,” said Gertrude. “She was only
ten years old when her mother died, leaving her the care of
both her baby sister and her little brother, who was hardly
more than a baby. Brother Herbert stayed all night there once,
in their little cottage among the mountains.”

————- + + ____

““SHINE YOUR BOOTS, SIR?”

SHE voice was childish and sweet-toned, but a little un-

A! steady. The man glanced down. From under the brim

YY of an old felt hat that had once been white, a pair of
soft, large eyes looked up into his.

“Shine your boots, sir?”

The man shook his head, as he uttered a brief “ No,” and
passed on.

But the tender face and soft, asking eyes haunted him. After
walking on for half a block, trying to forget the face of the boy,
he stopped, turned around, and went back, he hardly knew why.

“Shine your boots, sir?” It was the same innocent voice, but
a little firmer in tone. He looked down at the bare feet and
worn old clothes, and a feeling of pity touched his heart.

“Not this morning, my lad,” answered the man, “ but here’s
the price of a shine ;” and reached him ten cents.

“‘Haven’t come to that yet.” And the lad drew himself up
alittle proudly. “I’m not a beggar, but a bootblack. Just let

me shine ’em, sir. Won’t keep you a minute.”
50



“SHINE YOUR BOOTS, SIR?”







There was no resisting this appeal. So the man placed his
boot on the boy’s foot-rest, and in a little while its surface was
like polished ebony.

“Thank you!” said the little fellow, as, on finishing the second
boot, he received his fee.

a

“THars How.’—After a great snow-storm, a little fellow
began to shovel a path through a large bank before his mother’s
door. He had nothing but a small shovel to work with.

“How do you expect to get through that drift?” asked a man
passing by.

“ By keeping at it,” said the boy, cheerfully ; “that’s how.”



“ Moruer,” said a little girl, “I gave a beggar-child a drink
of water, and she said ‘Thank you!’ so beautifully that it made
me glad. I shall never forget it.”

Now, if any one feels fretful or discontented, or unhappy in
any way, here is the medicine. Let him do a “thank you’s”

worth of kindness every hour, and he will be cured.
51



THE OLD MILL.

y HEN I was a little girl I was very fond of wandering
| off by myself through the fields and woods.

The most beautiful spot to me in all my rambles was
where a mill stood with a great pond beside it. The
pond was surrounded by great trees, the branches of which bent
down almost to the water; while away up at its upper end
willows grew in a dense thicket, and with their light cool green
made a delightful contrast with the sombre hues of the other
trees. Here too, up among the willows, the rushes grew tall and






thick, and the “spatter-docks” spread their broad leaves over
the surface of the water. But farther down the pond was deep
and clear.

I remember how happy I was once, when a boy in a crazy old
boat took me out to the centre of the pond. It was my very first
ride on the water. And to float around on its glassy surface
and up under the green boughs of the trees was like an adven-
ture in fairy-land. The mere sight of the pond always filled me
with a kind of fear; but when I was upon it, I never thought
of feeling afraid.

49>

A LITTLE girl of eight or ten summers being asked what dust

was, replied that “it was mud with the juice squeezed out.”
52



A CRIPPLE FOR LIFE.





A CRIPPLE FOR LIFE.

AVE you noticed that poor little fellow on crutches, at
the white house round the corner?” said one of three
ladies who were spending an afternoon together.

“Yes, and it was just in my thought to speak of
him,” was answered. “1 noticed the child yesterday in our
garden playing with my Mary. She was just putting a little
doll of her’s into a cart, and the boy had tied a string to his
crutch and in that way was going to draw it. He has such a
sweet, patient face. He can’t be more than ten years old.”

“ And a cripple for life !” said the third lady.

How sad it is, and how kind all the children should be to the
poor and suffering, and thank God that they are sound in all
their limbs !





THE more you draw from the well of truth the clearer the

water becomes.
53





“1. DIDN’T THINK.”

+

((/\® ARRY was a bright, warm-hearted boy. He wished to
| make every one happy, but somehow he seemed not

only to be often in trouble himself, but to make trouble
for those around him.

One morning mother said, “Try and be quiet, children, for
Aunt Fanny has a headache.” Harry was the first to promise
that he would be still.

Not ten minutes after he was romping with Nero, shouting
at him and making him bark. Mother sent Nellie to tell him
to be quiet. “Iam sorry,” he said; “I didn’t think.”

In a few minutes he was showing as near as he could the way
lions roar and bears growl. “Oh, I didn’t think,” said Harry.

Shall I tell you how by just this one great fault of not think-
ing, Harry very nearly lost his life? One summer his father
took a cottage at the sea-shore, and great was the delight of the
children to stand on a rock overhanging the sea, and watch the
great ships skimming the water like giant swans. But it was
quite a dangerous point, and their mother had often cautioned
the children against going to the edge of the rock. One morn-
ing they had been playing near this spot; Harry had taken off
his shoes and stockings, and Nellie was gathering berries. She
had wandered far out of sight among the thick bushes: but
after picking all she could, she returned to where she had left

Harry a few moments before. What was her horror to find
54

ap

}













































THE DRUMMER BOY.

him standing close to the edge of the rock. She was afraid to
speak, knowing that a sudden start would send him headlong
on the rocks below. Hardly daring to breathe, she stole up
noiselessly behind him, with outstretched arm, until she was near
enough to catch firm hold on his clothes, when with a sudden
jerk she saved him from what might have been a horrible
death.

“Oh, Harry!” said Nellie, “how could you have been so
careless?”

“T am dreadfully sorry, Nellie, but I didn’t think.”

So you see, dear children, how terrible might have been the
consequences of not thinking.



THE DRUMMER BOY.

(N a certain regiment there was a drummer boy only thir-
| teen years old, who was also a Sunday-school scholar. One

day, while marching through the streets, the captain saw a

very beautiful flag flying over a gin-palace, and ordered his
men to halt and give it a salute. The boy had always obeyed
orders, but this time he thought the salute was meant for the
place as well as for the flag, and he stood still, and not a single
beat was heard from his drum. The captain sternly asked him
the reason of this.

“Sir,” said the brave lad, “I would not go into such a place
as that, and I cannot salute it.”

“My good boy,” replied the captain, patting him on the
shoulder, “ you are right and I am wrong.”



a

ages



JENNIE.





WAS AY ae

i ay |






























































































































































































































JENNIE.

ENNIE is a crippled lass,
Pale, and sad, and wan;
Won't you go and cheer her up,
Gladly, if you can?
In her chair she sadly sits
All the summer day,
Listening, while the other girls
Laugh, and shout, and play.



There she sits so dull and sad;
Don’t you long to try

If you cannot make her smile,
When you pass her by?

Haven’t you a picture-book
You could bring and show ?

Tales of wild and sunny lands

Jennie likes to know.
57



THE ESQUIMAUX.















THE ESQUIMAUX.

ND now for the Esquimaux boy and his dinner!” ex-
claimed John, as he bounded into the house on coming
home from school. His mother took down a book from
the shelf, and showed him a picture, which we have

copied for our little readers.

“What a queer-looking boy !” said John. “ What a funny
dress! What is he doing, mother ?”

“ Getting his dinner,” she replied.

“Catching birds?”

“Yes. You see an Esquimaux lad, who lives away off in
the icy north. He is dressed in furs to keep him warm. It is

night for half the year where he lives, and he is always sur-
58





THE ESQUIMAUX.

rounded with ice and snow. During the greater part of this
long night, he lives in a room away down under the snow, to
get into which the people have to crawl through a long low
passage-way, sometimes twenty or thirty feet long. In this
room, not larger than our kitchen, six or seven persons often
live. They have no wood nor coal in their snow and ice-covered
country. To get light, and fire to cook with, they burn grease
in lamps and pans. Their food is walrus, and seal, and bear’s
meat; and in the short summer they catch birds that flock there
in millions to lay their eggs and rear their young. They have no
flour, nor beans, nor rice, nor sugar. No ripe fruits, nor garden
vegetables such as we have.”

“ Oh, what a dreadful place to live in!” said John.

“But they don’t think so; and the boy you see with his
bird’s net of seal-skin tied to the end of a narwhal’s tusk, and
standing on an ice-covered ledge of rock jutting out over the
water, doesn’t think it any more of a hardship to get his dinner
in this way, than you did to run over to the store this morning
for yours and mine.”

“What kind of birds is he catching, mother?” asked John.

“They are called little auks, and are something like ducks,
but with shorter wings. The great auk is as large as a goose,
and can swim under water faster than a man can row a boat;
indeed, it is said that six men in a boat once pursued a great
auk, swimming under water, but couldn’t overtake it.”

Nee




Sy
Gy} Ab





my
- N Ws WS
e i a =~ pe ee LS) ZN
ba

59



MR. NOBODY.

ID you ever hear of Mr. Nobody, little reader? I’m sure
| you must have heard of him, for he’s about ’most all the
while and seems to be doing a great deal of mischief.
Here is something about him which we take from a
magazine published in England:



“T know a funny little man,

As quiet as a mouse,

Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody’s house.

There’s no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree

That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr. Nobody.

“?Tis he who always tears our books—

Who leaves our doors ajar ;

He pulls the buttons from our shirts,
And scatters pins afar.

That squeaking door will always squeak,
For, prithee, don’t you see,

We leave the oiling to be done
By Mr. Nobody?

“The finger-marks upon the doors
By none of us are made;
We never leave the blinds unclosed,
To let the curtains fade.
The ink we never spill; the boots
That lying round you see
Are not our boots—they all belong

To Mr. Nobody.”
60



‘ONLY GOING DOWN TO TATE’S.”

cy MUST tell you a little story about my parrot, which I
| have often told to my nieces and nephews.
: My father was an old gentleman who was very regular
in his habits, and every evening it was his custom to take
a stroll after tea to visit some very old friends of the name of
Tate, who lived close by in the next street; and before leaving _
the house he would open the door of the dining-room, where we
used to sit, and would say aloud, “Only going down to Tate’s,”
and then we knew he would be absent for an hour or two, chat-
ting with his old friend Mr. Tate.

Now it happened one evening that Polly’s cage-door was left
open. We sometimes let him walk about the room when he
was very good, as a great treat. And this evening, of which I
speak, we suddenly missed him from the room, and could not
think where he had gone; and as we were very fond of him, we
all set to work and searched the house high and low, looking
into every corner and cranny, and calling, “Polly, Polly,”
everywhere. But no Polly answered our repeated cries, and no
Polly could we find. So at last my father left, as usual, to pay
his visit to our neighbors, leaving us still looking for our pet.
But what was his surprise upon turning the corner of the street
to see Polly quietly waddling down the middle of the road.

“Why, Polly,” said he, “ where are you going?”

Upon which Master Poll cocked his impudent little head on
one side, and looked up and said, “ Only going down to Tate's.”

How my father laughed when he brought him home perched
on his hand, for the curious thing was that Poll was actually
going in the direction of the Tates’ house, which made it all the
more amusing.

After that we took better care to shut his cage-door.
61



ANNA'S STAY AT THE SEASIDE.

















Ze
=

Ns



ANNA’S STAY AT THE SEASIDE.

NNA GRAY’S health was so poor one summer, that the
doctor said nothing but a few weeks at the seaside would
do her any good. So her father, Mr. Gray, found a
quiet place down by the sea, where he engaged board for
Anna and her mother. Anna was at first much pleased with
the excitement of travelling, but she was tired before she reached
her journey’s end, and her head ached from the jar and noise
of the cars. She was very glad to go to bed as soon as she had
eaten her supper, without taking even a look at the ocean.

But the next morning she went out with her mamma on the
sand. When she first caught sight of the immense stretch of
water, she felt very frightened. It seemed as if the great waves

would roll right upon her and crush her. But she soon found
62





LITTLE THINGS.

that after they had broken in a long white line of surf near the
shore, they came creeping harmlessly in until they at last gently
lapped the sand at her feet. Then she took off her shoes and
stockings and stood in the sand, and let the water come up around
her feet. Sometimes, when a bigger wave than usual came in,
she would have to seamper to get out of its way. ’

She saw presently that the water was gaining on her, and that
she had constantly to go backward to keep out of its reach.
She did not understand this, and asked her mother what it
meant. Her mother explained to her that it was the tide coming
in. She told her that for six hours the water would steadily
advance, until it would almost cover the sand where they were
standing. Then for six hours it would steadily go out until it
left it all bare. Then the water would again return and again
recede; and so it continued to do day after day and year after
year.

Then Anna made little holes in the sand, and watched to see
how long it would take the waves to creep up to them. She
enjoyed her morning on the sands very much, and as soon as
she began to feel tired she went in-doors.



LITTLE THINGS.




Wr PRINGS are little things, but they are sources of large
SS) streams; a helm is a little thing, but it governs the
=~ ‘ ' goles .
% course of a ship; a bridle-bit is a little thing, but see its
use and powers; nails and pegs are little things, but they
hold the parts of a large building together; a word, a look, a
smile, a frown, are all little things, but powerful for good or
evil, Think of this and mind the little things.

63



ROBIN AND ROSE.



—
fi =~ a

ROBIN AND ROSE.
OWN on the grass, where tall meadow-sweet grows,
Waved by the winds of the West,

Brave little Robin and dear little Rose,
Happy as birds in a nest,



Gather bright blossoms, and prattle away
Merrily one to another ;

No pair of linnets chirp brighter than they—
Loving sweet sister and brother!

Rosie’s straw hat is all garlanded round
With a delicious festoon ;

Chainwork of daisy-blooms, fresh from the ground ;
Ox-eyes as fair as the moon.

Wind-music seems to be floating along
Over the sister and brother,
Like this refrain of a beautiful song—

“ Little ones, love one another !””
64



MAKING SUNSHINE.

DEAR, it always does rain when I want to go anywhere !”
_} cried little Jennie Moore. “It’s too bad! Now I’ve
got to stay in-doors, and I know I shall have a
wretched day.”

“Perhaps so,” said Uncle Jack; “but you need not have a
wretched day unless you choose.”

“ How can I help it? I wanted to go to the park, and play
on the grass, and pull wild flowers; and now there is not going
to be any sunshine at all, and I shall have to stand here and
see it rain all day long.”

“ Well, let’s make a little sunshine,” said Uncle Jack. This
made Jennie smile through her tears, showing that Uncle Jack
had manufactured a few rays already. So Jennie agreed to be -
his partner in this new business, and went to work according to
these three rules:

First, Don’t think of what might have been if the day had
been better.

Second; See how many things there are left to enjoy.

And lastly, Do all you can to make other people happy.

Jennie began by amusing her little brother, who was crying.
By the time she had him riding a chair and laughing she was
laughing too. After that she found many a pleasant amuse-
ment, and when bed-time came she kissed her uncle good-night,
and was even far more happy than if she had spent the day in
playing on the grass and gathering wild flowers. But that was
not all. She dreamed that night that Uncle Jack had built a
great house, and put a sign over the door which read—

SUNSHINE FACTORY.
She made uncle laugh when she told her dream; but she never
forgot what you must remember : A cheerful heart makes its own

sunshine.
5 65





GOOSEY, GOOSEY, GANDER.





/

~

YS



GOOSEY, GOOSEY, GANDER!

ILLIE, if you will sit right quietly here on this book,
| I will tell you the story that mamma read me last

night.”

The little boy promised to remain quiet, and Edith
commenced her story.

Once there was a little girl named Ellen. One day she
was playing in the garden, and a large gray goose walked up to
her.

“Where do you come from ?” said Ellen.

But the goose did not speak. It only stood still and looked
up in her face.

“Perhaps it is a fairy goose, and will lay golden eggs for
me,” thought Ellen. Then she spoke to the goose again, and
said,—

66



GOOSEY, GOOSEY, GANDER.

“ Goosey, goosey, gander,
Whither do you wander—
Up-stairs and down-stairs,

And in my lady’s chamber?
Goosey, goosey, nice ’twould be,
If you'd stay, and gold eggs lay
Every day for me.”

But the goose was silent, only it came and rubbed its head
against Ellen’s dress.

“What a tame goose you are!” said Ellen, stroking it. It
was, indeed, very tame, and it followed Ellen round the garden
and down to the river.

But when it saw the water, it stretched out its wings, and
said, “ Quack, quack !”

Then it plunged in and swam away. “ Goosey, Goosey, come
back!” shouted Ellen, as loud as she could.

But the goose did not turn its head; it went on swimming
away, till at last it was out of sight.

“Tt is going home,” said Ellen, sitting down; “perhaps to
fairyland.”

For she was still thinking about the wonderful goose she had
read about in “ Jack and the Beanstalk.”



67



THE LITTLE ARTIST.



THE LITTLE ARTIST.

j UST see, papa! Archie has made a man.”

Mr. Loring looked up from his newspaper, and out
through the window at which he was sitting to the fence
on which Archie had drawn a rude figure with a piece

of chalk.
“Why,so he has! Are you going to be an artist, my boy ?”
“Yes, papa; I mean to be an artist like Mr. Rowe, and
paint pictures.”
“Tt is not such an easy thing to be an artist as you think, my
boy,” said papa, “ but takes years of study and hard work.”
Little Flora looked at her brother and then at his drawing
on the fence in a proud way, and said, “ But still, papa, even

then ’tisn’t every one can be an artist.”
68





PAPA’S LONG STORY.

je, oe









|
Wh TO) rey
| in too
| I \N ES























PAPA’S LONG STORY.

R. CHARLTON was sitting alone in the study, when

L the door opened, and two little voices cried at once,
: “Papa, my dear papa! do tell us a story, and let it
be a good long story.”

“You want a long story, my little ones?” said Mr. Charlton,
with a smile: “well, listen, and I will give you one that will
occupy a long time in telling.”

“Oh, that will be famous!” exclaimed little Andrew; and
Gertrude seemed decidedly of the same opinion.

“Well, listen,” said papa, “for now our long story is going
to begin.”

But we must wait a moment, my dear little readers, before
we begin this famous story; for I have not told you that Mr.
Charlton had come home later than usual that evening, and
that it was very near the children’s bed-time, a fact which the
little rogues knew perfectly well. Now, their mamma was

always anxious that Andrew and Gertrude should go to bed in
69





PAPA'S LONG STORY.

proper time; for late hours are not healthy for little children,
who should remember the old proverb, “ Early to bed and early
to rise;’ so that the children were highly delighted, and
mamma was a little alarmed, when Mr. Charlton prepared to
begin his long story so late in the evening. Having given you
this piece of explanation, we will let papa tell his story for him-
self. He said,—

“Once upon a time there was a good careful shepherd. He
had begun with a very few sheep of his own; but now the flock
had increased, through his care and watchfulness, so that he
had nearly two hundred lambs, besides the old sheep. But be-
sides these sheep he had a pretty little daughter, of whom he
was exceedingly fond; and the little girl took greatly to the
lambs, especially to those that were weak and required care;
and the lambs, on their part, would follow her about every-
where, and seemed to thank her for the care and kindness she
showed to them.

“ Now, one day the shepherd, who had driven all the sheep
and lambs out into the meadow, determined to take them into a
new meadow where there was some fine fresh grass. But to
get to this meadow it was requisite to cross a swift and rapid
streamlet, and the only way across this streamlet was by a very
weak and narrow bridge, formed of a single plank. Now, the
shepherd feared that if he let his sheep and lambs crowd all
together on this bridge, it might break beneath their weight, or
that some of them, in their hurry to get across, might push
others over into the water. Therefore he called his little
daughter, and told her to cross the streamlet, and to coax one
lamb over after her; and when that was safe on the other side,
to return and call another, and so on, until all should have
crossed; but to be careful that only one lamb followed her
each time.

“ Now you can fancy how often the little maid would have to
70



THE COCK AND THE FOX.

recross the bridge before all the sheep followed her one by one
and were in safety in the opposite meadow ; and, indeed, it will
take such a long time that we must wait till to-morrow before
they have crossed—and you see what a long story this will make.
Therefore I propose that in the mean time you both go to bed.”

Here their papa paused, and Gertrude and Andrew both
looked a little foolish. But, as they went up-stairs, they de-
cided it would perhaps be better to wait for an evening when
papa came home early, before they asked him for a long
story again.







SS.
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ee






UA AS
tr Kip RS



NA



THE COCK AND THE FOX.

CHE fox, passing early one summer’s morning near a farm-
A yard, was caught in a spring, which the farmer had
planted there for that end. The cock, at a distance, saw
what had happened ; and, hardly yet daring to trust him-

self too near so dangerous a foe, approached him cautiously, and
peeped at him, not without some horror and dread of mind.

71







POWER OF KINDNESS.

Reynard no sooner perceived it, but he addressed himself to him
with all the designing artifice imaginable. “ Dear cousin,” says
he, “ you see what an unfortunate accident has befallen me here,
and all upon your account; for, as I was creeping through yon-
der hedge in my way homeward, I heard you crow, and was
resolved to ask you how you did before I went any farther ; but
by the way I met with this disaster; and therefore now I must
become a humble suitor to you for a knife to cut this plaguy
string, or, at least, that you would conceal my misfortune till I
have gnawed it asunder with my teeth.” The cock seeing how
the case stood, made no reply, but posted away as fast as he
could, and gave the farmer an account of the whole matter; who,
taking a good weapon along with him, came and did the fox’s
business before he could have time to contrive his escape.

There is no greater error than to bestow sympathy and aid
on undeserving subjects.

POWER OF KINDNESS.

POOR woman used to give an elephant, who often passed

_her stall in the market, a handful of greens, of which

2 he was very fond. One day he was in a great fury, and
broke away from his keeper, and came raging down the
market-place. Every one.fled, and in her haste the market-
woman forgot her little child. But the furious elephant, instead
of trampling it to death, picked it up tenderly and laid it on
one side in a place of safety. Do you think she was sorry she
gave him his handful of greens as he went by? No. We

never lose by a kind action, no matter to whom it is done.
72



THE WOLF.





THE WOLF.

CMHERE once lived, in a small log cabin among the west-
All ern wilds, two little children named Eddie and Nelly

Grey. ‘They: were very pretty children. Nelly was ten

years old, and had beautiful golden curls and blue eyes;
and Eddie was eight, and the color of his eyes and hair was
brown. ‘They were very good children, too, and always obeyed
their parents; and in so doing, as you will see by my story,
their lives were one day saved.

Mr. Grey and his wife were one day compelled to ride over to
the nearest settlement, a little town about ten miles away, to
attend to some law business, about a claim to their land. They
had never left the children alone before; but it was necessary
that they should do so on that day ; and so, after many repeated
charges to Nelly and Eddie to keep the door fast, and on no
account to leave the house, they rode away on their great black

horse.
73



THE WOLF. —

After Nelly and Eddie had watched their father and mother
out of sight, and seen that the cabin windows and doors were all
fast, they went to their play.

But Eddie soon tired of his blocks and top, and came
running to his sister.

“Nelly,” he said, “I’m tired of building block-houses in
here, and want to run out-doors and play. Do you think
mamma would care much if I went out a little while?”

Nelly replied, “Oh, Eddie, you mustn’t go! You know we
promised mamma and papa not to leave the house, and it would
be wrong.”

“Qh, sister, the sun is shining so bright, and the flowers look
so pretty.”

But his sister had not time to reply again, for Eddie’s eyes,
turned toward the window, had caught sight of other objects
than flowers; and with a pale, terrified face, and eyes dilating
with horror, his voice sank away to a faint whisper, as he
gasped out,—

“Oh, Nelly! look! look!”

The girl did look toward the window, and saw there a pair
of large, fierce eyes pressed close against the pane, and a long
sharp nose and pointed ears, that told who was the visitor.

“A wolf!” cried Eddie, shuddering and drawing close to his
sister, who was as pale as he, but had more presence of mind;
for in an instant she sprang up and ran and drew the thick
oaken shutters over the window and fastened them; then she
ran to the door to see if that was barred; and then went to the
one other room of the cabin, and made the window fast in the
same way ; Eddie keeping close to her all the time.

After Nelly had closed the shutters, the room was quite dark ;
so she lighted a candle and put it upon a stand in the centre of
the room, and then sat down by it, with Eddie in her arms.

But they did not sit there long in silence, for soon they heard
74



A KISS, NOT A BLOW.

the wolf leap against the window; and then they heard fierce
howls beyond, at first in the distance, and then coming nearer,
till many feet tramped about the house.

Nelly got up and pushed a table against the outer door,
which was of strong oak and fastened with a heavy bar; then
she said to her brother, encouragingly,—

“Don’t be afraid, Eddie; the wolves can’t get in, and father
and mother will be here soon.”

But the feet seemed to be multiplied; the howls and fierce
yells came louder and faster ; and the whole woods seemed alive
with the horrid pack. The two children cowered down in
the centre of the room in mute terror. For nearly an hour
this dreadful concert lasted; and then, just as Nelly and Eddie
thought they couldn’t bear it any longer, they heard the tramp-
ing of horses’ feet on the prairie ground, and the sound of rifle-
shots, and then the yells of the wolves grew fainter and died
away.

In a few moments more, their parents’ voices fell upon their
ears, and the children sprang to the door and drew back the
bolt, to be clasped in their arms.



A KISS, NOT A BLOW.
i STRIKE ’oo,” cried a little boy in a sharp tone to his

sister.
“T kiss oo,” said his sister, stretching out her arms and
putting up her rosy lips in a sweet kiss.

Tommy looked a look of wonder. Did his little ears hear
right? They did, for there was a kiss on Susy’s lips. A smile
broke over his angry face, like sunshine on a dark cloud.

“T kiss ’oo,” he said; and the little brother and sister hugged
and kissed each other right heartily. A kiss for a blow is better

than tit for tat, isn’t it ?
75



THE STRAY CHICKS.

























































































































































































THE STRAY CHICKS.

OOD morning, pretty hen!

' How many chickens have you got,

¢ Madam? I’ve got ten;

Three of them are yellow,

And three of them are brown,

And four of them are black and white,
The nicest in the town.”




That is what the old hen might have sung on other mornings
when Mary came out to feed her and her brood, but this morn-
ing four chicks had gone astray: two of the speckles and one
of the browns, and Tiny, the little yellow chick, had travelled

off into the clover. They were rather small to hunt insects for
76



THE STRAY CHICKS.

themselves, and their mother had called and called to them to
come back. But they were like some children. They kept
right on, and pretended they never heard. Of course their poor
mother could not get out to attend to them, so she was in a great
worry when Mary came. When Mary sprinkled the corn for
the rest, she clucked the loudest, as if to inform her of her
loss.

“What shall we do about them, mother?” asked Mary, much
disturbed. “The hawks will surely get them; or they will get
lost in the tall clover, and never get back.”

“Tt is as bad to them as a great wood would be to me,” said
Mary.

“They will come trotting back after a while,” said mother.
“They will hear the hen’s call, and will follow the sound, and
be glad enough to snuggle down under her wing.”

That day the hawk went swooping down over the fields, flying
very low; and such a commotion as it made in the poultry-yard!
The little lost chicks knew by some means that it was an enemy,
and cried piteously and fought blindly about in the tall clover-
tufts in their frantic efforts to get out. But it is much easier
getting into mischief than getting out. They made such a noise,
it is a dozen chances to one but the hawk would have had
chicken-pie for his dinner, if faithful Mary had not gone in
search of and brought them safe back.



Lirrte Sunsuine.—Who is Little Sunshine? The child
who does not pout, or frown, or say cross words, but who goes
about the house laughing, smiling, singing, saying kind words
and doing kind deeds—that child is Little Sunshine. Does
anybody know Little Sunshine? Where does Little Sunshine
live?

77



MY SISTER.



MY SISTER.

HAD a little sister once,
And she was wondrous fair ;
Like twined links of yellow gold
Was the waving of her hair.

Her face was like a day in June,
When all is sweet and still,

And the shadows of the summer clouds
Crept softly o’er the hill.

O! my sister’s voice—I hear it yet;
It comes upon mine ear

Like the singing of a joyous bird,
When the summer months are near.

Sometimes the notes would rise at eve
So fairy-like and wild,
My mother thought a spirit sang,

And not the gentle child.
78



MY SISTER.

And oh! like them, as they come in the spring
And with summer’s fate decay,

She passed with the sun’s last parting smile
From life’s rough path away.

And when she died—neath an old oak-tree
My sister’s grave was made;

For, when on earth, she used to love
Its dark and pensive shade.

And, every spring, in that old tree
The song-birds build their nests,

And wild flowers bloom on the soft green turf
Where my dear sister rests:

And the children of our village say,
That on my sister’s tomb

The wild flowers are the last that fade,
And the first that ever bloom.

She was too pure for earthly love—
Strength to our hearts was given,

And we yielded her, in her childhood’s light,
To a brighter home in heaven.



79



THE SAILOR AND THE LION.







THE SAILOR AND THE LION.
CHE lion is strong and cruel, yet he will become attached

AI to those who treat him kindly. A story is told of one
who was brought from India, and who on the passage
grew very fond of a sailor who had charge of him. His

name was “ Nero.” On being shut up in a cage in London, he

grew sulky and was very fierce when any one came near him,
so that it was dangerous even for his keeper to approach him.

One day, a few weeks after Nero had been shut up in his
new prison, a party of sailors visited the menagerie, and were
warned by the keeper not to go too near the lion, who every
now and then turned and growled savagely at those who were
looking at him. All at once one of these sailors ran up to the
cage, and, thrusting his hand in, cried out,—

“What! old shipmate! don’t you know me? What cheer,
old Nero, my lad ?”



80



SEE, THE STARS ARE COMING.

The lion instantly left off feeding and growling, sprang up on
the bars of the cage and put out his nose between them. Jack
patted him on the head, and the lion rubbed his hand with his
whiskers like a cat, showing evident signs of pleasure.

“Ah!” said Jack, turning to the keeper and spectators, who
stood frightened and in astonishment, “ Nero and I were once
shipmates, and you see he isn’t like some folks: he don’t forget
old friends.” ;

SEE, THE STARS ARE COMING.




EE, the stars are coming

SS a:

SS In the fair blue skies !

Mother, look ! they brighten :
Are they angels’ eyes?”

“No, my child, the splendor
Of those stars is given,

Like the hues of flowers,
By the Lord of heaven.”

“ Mother, if I study,
Sure he’ll let me know
Why those stars are lighted
O’er our earth to glow ?”

“Child, what God has finished
Hath a glorious aim ;
Thine it is to worship,

Thine to love his name.”
6 81































































































AMY.

MY sits by the open window watching the little stars peep
out of the summer sky. She has finished her task, and
now waits to hear mamma’s cheerful voice calling her
to her tea. Amy is a good child, and has put her hat

and book on the table, instead of leaving them on the floor as
some children do.

“ Amy,” said her mother, coming into the room.

She started, and then said, “Oh, mother! Come and see!
Isn’t it lovely ?”

“What are you looking at, dear?” asked Mrs. Grove, as she

sat down by her side and drew an arm around her.
82



AMY.

‘« At the moon and stars, and the lake, away off by the hill.
See what a great road of light lies across the water. Isn’t it
beautiful, mother? And it makes me feel so quiet and happy.
I wonder why it is?”

“Shall I tell you the reason ?”

“Oh, yes, mother dear! What is the reason ?”

“ God made everything that is good and beautiful.”

“Oh, yes, I know that.”

“Good and beautiful for the sake of man; because man is
the highest thing of creation and nearest to God. All things
below him were created for his good. That is, God made them
for him to use in sustaining the life of his body or the life of
his soul.”

“T don’t see what use I can make of the moon and stars,”
said Amy.

“ And yet,” answered her mother, “you said only a minute
ago that the beauty of this moonlight evening made you feel
so quiet and happy.”

“Oh, yes. That is so; I see now how it is.”

“ Besides,” said the mother, “ let me remind you that the moon
and stars give us light by night, and that, if you happened to
be away at a neighbor's after the sun went down, they would be
of great use in showing you the path homeward.”



+ —____—_

’Tis religion that can give
Sweetest pleasures while we live;
’Tis religion can supply

Solid comforts when we die.

IB

Zr db SW. a

88



SONG FOR THE LITTLE ONES.

HE little birds fill all the air with their glee,

Yet they’ve not half as much to be glad of as we:
So with thrushes and blackbirds we'll joyfully sing
All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.



The grasshopper chirps in the long summer grass,

The frisking lambs bleat in the fields as we pass:

So with wee things and young things we'll joyfully sing
All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.

The river shouts glad as it dances along ;

The little stream murmurs a sweet quiet song:
So with rivers and streamlets we'll joyfully sing
All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.

The breezes sing soft ’mid the green leaves of June,
E’en the hoarse wintry wind tries to whistle a tune:
So with soft winds and strong winds we'll joyfully sing
All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.

Pleasant songs at his work hums the blithe, busy bee,
And we'll not be less blithe or less busy than he:

So with all busy creatures we'll joyfully sing

All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.

Thus God gives a measure of gladness to all,
And a share of his praises to great and to small:
So we who owe most will most thankfully sing,

And our voices, though weak, to his footstool shall ring.
84



THE YOUNG ROBINS.



THE YOUNG ROBINS.

NE day the sun was warm and bright,
And shining in the sky ;
A robin said, “ My little dears,
Tis time you learn to fly ;”
And all the little young ones said,
oT Uhtey 1 lity, Vlory.”



I know a child, and who she is
Tl tell you by and by,
When mamma says, “ Do this,” or “ that,”
She says, “ What for?” and “ Why ?”
She’d be a better child by far,
If she would say, “I'll try.”

My bairnies dear, when you go out
With other bairns to play,
Take heed of everything you do,
Of every word you say ;
From tricky, wee, mischievous loons
Keep back, my bairns, keep back ;
And aye to all such usage give
As you would like to take.

85



ON THE SAND-BAR.





ON THE SAND-BAR.

H, dear! But we’re having real splendid times!”

The person who said this was a very little girl, and
her name was Kitty Fisher. When she said it she was
sitting on a heap of fine white sand which she had

scraped together with her hands, and her lap was full of sand,
and she had sprinkled some on her hat and it had fallen down
into the soft flaxen hair which nurse had crimped with great
care that very morning, and she had pushed her tiny slippers
into it until they were now packed pretty full with the plump
little feet and the sand which had sifted in all around them;
for she said she was playing she was an ant, and that was the
way ants made their sand-houses and lived in them.

She said to herself that she believed they ate sand too, and
so she put a little into her own red-lipped, rosy mouth, but it
tasted dry and hot, so that she soon spit it out again. ‘You see
she was not a very wise little Kitty ; but then aha wasn’t very

old yet, scarcely five in fact, and didn’t know much about ants
86





ON THE SAND-BAR.

except as she had seen them in the early summer mornings
running about with bits of gravel in their mouths, building their
dirt-houses on the stone walks around her father’s house.

“Oh, Mattie! Fred! come see me. I’m an ant, and I live
in a sand-house on a little bit of island. Oh, ain’t we having
real splendid times !”

By this time Mattie’s house was completed, and she started
to come toward her little sister. What was her surprise to find
she could not reach her, for while they had all been so busy at
their play, the water had been flowing in over the beach, and
though not very deep, still it had come all around the place
where Kitty was sitting, so that she was indeed, as she had said,
“on a little bit of island.”

What to do Mattie didn’t know, so she called to Fred as
loudly as she could,—

“Oh, Fred! Fred! I can’t reach Kitty. Come and help me
over!” Her frightened tones attracted the boy’s attention, and
he came running at once to the spot.

“The tide’s coming in, and we must go home right away,” he
said. Then he waded over to Kitty’s island and brought her
away, and began to look about to see what he should do next.
Taking a good look around, he saw they were in great danger.
They had been playing on a bar or ridge of sand, which was
higher than the rest of the beach, and while they had been so
busy at their sports, the water had flowed in and around and
behind them, cutting them off entirely from the shore.

I think Fred would have liked very much to cry when he
found this out. His under lip did quiver a little, but he was a
brave boy at heart, and a very sensible boy he proved himself
on this occasion also.

At the end of the bar was a ledge of rocks, and since they
could not reach the land, Fred knew they would be safer on

this than in the place where they now were, for the water was
87



DON’T LAG.

coming nearer and nearer, and getting deeper every moment.
They had to wade some in order to gain the rocks, and Mattie’s
polished boots got a good soaking up as high as her ankles.
Fred carried Kitty in his arms and placed her where she would
not be in danger.



DON’T LAG.
ae ’"T lag, Johnnie,” said a little boy’s mother; “ but go

straight to school.”

“Yes, mother; I will,’ said Johnnie; and off he
trudged.

When he passed Mr. Wheeler’s barn, a robin redbreast flew
out of the woods, perched on the nearest bough, and began to
sing, just as if he were singing to Johnnie, and to nobody else.
Was it singing, “Stop, Johnnie, stop,” or “Go, Johnnie, go?”
The little boy loved birds, and redbreast was so near.

“Tt is singing ‘go’ or ‘stay,’ just according to my think,”
said Johnnie. ‘“I think it says ‘ Go, and I shall go.”

So Johnnie, in spite of all the pleasant things which tempt a
little boy to lag behind school-time on a sweet summer morning,
went straight to school, and was in his seat when the mistress
rang the opening bell.

Johnnie was right. A great many things have a meaning to
us according as we think. To the little boy who said it was too
pleasant to go to school, and so played truant, redbreast’s notes
would have been “Stay, stay ;” “Stop, stop;” for he did not
love his books, and wanted an excuse for neglecting them.

All along the way, children, there are pleasant voices which
will lead you astray, or forward you in the path of duty, accord-
ing to the chord which they find in you. The key-note is in
your own bosom. Pitch it right—pitch it for the right, and
then your life will be a pleasant tune, sweet to father and
mother.

mm

88



PRAYER.



PRAYER.

RANDPAPA is teaching Freddy to say this sweet little
prayer :



I thank Thee, Lord, for quiet rest,
And for Thy care of me;

Oh, let me through this day be blest,
And kept from harm by Thee!

Oh, let me love Thee! kind Thou art
To children such as I;

Give me a gentle, holy heart,
Be Thou my friend on high.

89



OLD KITTEN-CAT.





OLD KITTEN-CAT.

ae
©



ITTLE readers, if you will allow me, I wish to introduce
to you old Kitten-Cat. I would like to have you all
come to my house and see her, but as that is impossible,
I will show you her picture.

If the artist does her justice, I am sure you will pronounce
her to be the handsomest cat to be found anywhere, except at
your house. And that is all I expect, for children who own
pussies have the same right to think them prettier than all
others, that each mother has to think her own baby the smartest,
and every crow to believe its own young ones the blackest.
You must imagine that part of the spots on her back are bright

yellow, though they all look black in the picture.
90



OLD KITTEN-CAT.

I don’t just know how it was she got the name of Kitten-Cat,
but I have sometimes thought it might have been in this way.
Although she is a very large cat, and as much as five years
old,—which is quite middle-aged for cats, you know, though
not very old for some other kitties,—she sometimes romps and
plays and shows no more dignity than the wildest mad-cap of a
three months old kitten, if you push your finger at her or roll
a ball across the room. I may be mistaken, but I think this is
something very unusual for a cat of mature years, and that her
former mistress noticing it, called her Kitten-Cat.

For old Kitten-Cat hasn’t always been our cat, but was ieft
at our house by the last people who lived here before us. For
a long time we didn’t want her to stay. In fact, neither Uncle
John nor I ever did like cats, and we told her so, plainly, dozens
of times, when she jumped into our laps, and rubbed her head
against our shoulders. But it was of no use. She would look
straight into our faces with her round, innocent eyes full of a
sort ae grieved and astonished expression, and say, just as plainly
as ever a cat said anything,—

“Yes, know Iamacat. IfI had my choice I don’t know
that I would be one. But as it is, I always mean to be an ex-
cellent cat, and do my best to please folks. I think I would
rather be a dog, or a horse, or a nice little girl. Please to love
me, and let me have as good a life as a cat can have!”

And she really is just as good as she can be and be a cat, and
could only be improved by promoting her to a higher sphere.
We are not at all sure that as much could be said of us, so we
concluded not to be cross to her, and she soon understood that
we had adopted her.

She can do some things which we think quite wonderful.
She opens all the doors that have only a latch to fasten them,
and has two or three times been seen up in a chair, pawing at

and carefully studying the construction of the knobs and spring-
91



HYMN FOR A LITTLE CHILD.

locks of the other doors. If she gets shut into the parlor, and
the piano is open, she walks back and forth on it till somebody —
hears the music and comes to let her out. She never gets on
the piano at any other time. And when she is thirsty, she tries
to turn the water-faucets in the kitchen sink.

A little while ago she had three beautiful kittens. Two of
them were just alike, with black ears, tails, and backs, and
white breasts, paws, and noses. The other one was yellow, with
white neckerchief and mittens on.



HYMN FOR A LITTLE CHILD.

OD, make my life a little light,
Within the world to glow ;
A little flame that burneth bright
Wherever I may go.



God, make my life a little flower,
That giveth joy to all,

Content to bloom in native bower,
Although its place be small.

God, make my life a little song,
That comforteth the sad;

That helpeth others to be strong,
And makes the singer glad.

God, make my life a little hymn
Of tenderness and praise ;
Of faith—that never waxeth dim

In all His wondrous ways.
92



THE EIDER DUCK.



THE EIDER DUCK.

in Iceland and Norway, and other cold countries—lives
| this bird, so noted for the soft down it gives us; and

there it lays its eggs and hatches out its young. You
see, in the picture, a mother-bird, taking her ducklings into the
chilly waters, from which the brief northern summer has melted
off the ice. She is going to feed them on the shell-fish and sea
urchins that she can pick up from the edges of the rocks and in
shallow places.

You think they must be very cold.

The eider ducks build their nests of fine weeds and mosses
on the ground or among rocks, wherever they can find a little
hollow; and these nests are often so close together, that a man

can hardly walk among them without stepping on the eggs.
93

PAR away in the icy north—in Labrador and Greenland,
dl

\



THE EIDER DUCK.

The breasts of these birds are covered thickly with the softest
down, and as soon as they have laid their eggs, they pluck
enough of this down to cover them warmly, for there is not
sufficient heat in their bodies to hatch the eggs without help
from the down ; and besides they have to leave their nests some-
times to get food, and then if it was not for the covering of down,
the eggs would be frozen.

The people who live away in the far northern countries,
where these ducks make their nests and hatch their young,
know about these down-covered eggs, and, as soon as they find
them well wrapped up, take away both the eggs and the down.
Then the mother-bird lays another nestful of eggs, and a
second time strips the down from her breast to cover them and
keep them warm. A second time the eggs and down are taken
away. Poor bird! Still she is not discouraged, and lays a
third nestful of eggs; but she has no more down with which
to protect them from the cold. What is to be done? Will the
eggs be frozen? Not so; for now the male bird comes and
plucks the downy treasures from his breast and lays them over
the eggs! This time the down-gatherers leave the nest un-
harmed, so that a brood of ducks may be hatched that will lay
egos and supply down another year.



Beware of evil thoughts. They have done great harm in
the world. Bad thoughts come first, bad words follow, and bad
déeds finish the progress. Watch against them, strive against
them, pray against them.

“Bad Thought’s a thief: he acts his part:
Creeps through the windows of the heart ;
And if he once his way can win,

He'll let a hundred robbers in.”
94



THE FOX AND THE TIGER.



THE FOX AND THE TICER.

SKILFUL archer, coming into the woods, directed his
arrows so successfully that he slew many wild beasts,
and pursued several others. This put the whole savage
kind into a fearful consternation, and made them fly to

the most retired thickets for refuge. At last the tiger regained
courage, and bidding them not be afraid, said that he alone
would engage the enemy ; telling them they might depend upon
his valor and strength to revenge their wrongs. In the midst
of these threats, while he was lashing himself with his tail and
tearing up the ground for anger, an arrow pierced his ribs, and
hung by its barbed point in his side. He set up a hideous and
loud roar, occasioned by the anguish which he felt, and endeay-
ored to draw out the painful dart with his teeth; when the fox
approaching him, inquired, with an air of surprise, who it was
that could have strength and courage enough to wound so mighty
and valorous a beast. “ Ah!” says the tiger, “I was mistaken
in my reckoning: it was that invincible man yonder.”
Strength and courage, when through want of wisdom they are
misdirected, are less powerful than prudent forethought.
95



ANNA'S RESOLUTION.



ELL, now I'll sit down, and I’ll work very fast,
And try if I can’t be a good girl at last ;
Tis better than being so sulky and haughty,
I’m really quite tired of being so naughty.



For, as mamma says, when my business is done,
There’s plenty of time left to play and to run;
But when ’tis my work-time, I ought to sit still;
And I know that I ought, so I certainly will.



A pErson good at making excuses is seldom good for any-

thing else.
96



THE FOX WITHOUT A TAIL.



THE FOX WITHOUT A TAIL.

FOX being caught in a steel-trap by his tail, was glad
to compound for his escape with the loss of it; but, upon
coming abroad into the world, began to be so sensible of
the disgrace such a defect would bring upon him, that

he almost wished he had died rather than left it behind him.

However, to make the best of a bad matter, he formed a project

in his head to call an assembly of the rest of the foxes, and pro-

pose it for their imitation as a fashion which would be very
agreeable and becoming. He did so, and made a long harangue
upon the unprofitableness of tails in general, and endeavored
chiefly to show the awkwardness and inconvenience of a fox’s
tail in particular ; adding, that it would both be more graceful
and more expeditious to be altogether without them; and that,
for his part, what he had only imagined and conjectured before,
he now found by experience, for that he never enjoyed himself
so well, and found himself so easy, as he had done since he cut
off his tail. He said no more, but looked about with a brisk
air to see what proselytes he had gained; when a sly old thief

in the company, who understood traps, answered. him: with a
7 97





THE ANTS.

leer, “ I believe you may have found it convenient to part with
your tail, and when we are in the same circumstances, perhaps
we may do so too.”

Lvil-doers will always try to lessen their disgrace, by making
others like themselves.



THE ANTS.

~ LITTLE black ant found a large grain of wheat,
A Too heavy to lift or to roll;
|“ So he begged of a neighbor he happened to meet,
To help it down into his hole.

“Tve got my own work to look after,” said he;
“You must shift for yourself, if you please ;”

So he crawled off as selfish and cross as could be,
And lay dewn to sleep at his ease.

Just then a black brother was passing the road,
And, seeing his brother in want,

Came up and assisted him in with his load,
For he was a good-natured ant.

Let all who this story may happen to hear
Endeavor to profit by it;

For often it happens that children appear
As cross as the ant, every bit.

And the good-natured ant who assisted his brother
May teach those who choose to be taught,
That if little insects are kind to each other,

Then children most certainly ought.
98



Full Text
















= 2 py
J.B. LIPPINCOTT & CO PHIL?













































































MY OWN BOOK.



EDITED BY

TO EN Gos Sa Se a ey dee eh

EDITOR OF
“THE PRATTLER,” “THE BUDGET,” ETC., ETC.

PHILADELPHIA:

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.
Copyright, 1877, by J. B. Liprrncotr & Co.
CONTENTS.



PAGE
Masew’s Story .....- - 7
Tue Snow Fort. . . .. - 9
Over THe Fence... .. 10
Tom anp His Cousins ... It
Farner is Coming. . =... 12
Story of A Doa@. .... - 13
Tye Wuite Rose ..... 14
J GUHTHAOL A nm inte ee LO
EVVEATEIG Nee Med aeen eo) bee toc eal EELG
Tne Stray LAMB .. ..- .- 17
TMI SW ALOWi 1 = spt) ko ween LO
VOIR I Teme cee nxn etme mtn OO)
Mam IROBENG Eee oe eee ee Nem oe
Tue EAGLE AND THE Fox . . 28
Tur PRAIRIE ON Fire. . . . 24
A Goop-Nicut Sona ... . 26
Tue TRAVELLERS AND THE BEAR 27
Tue WoLF AND THE LamB. . 28
Tur Trur SECRET... .. 29
Our DaRLING. . .... . 80
Met WELORS Fis eri ete) eh co Romeore
BRInGwUSErUL wie ttnne eee con
Tue Loar or Bread... . 384
OISIMBUMUANII Suet tema tec erases es
AGAINST QUARRELLING AND
EVE GHEREN Gefen evi oe ee
A SumMM@r CAnL. % 2.02 0. 89)
MM ROOW Se ert iss aa pace
Picaay’s Misston. . . . . . 42
Frossiz’s Brrps . . . . . . 48
Frepinc THE Brrps ... . 46
Lirtirn Pussy. . . . . =... 46
Tue Roapsip—e Inn. . ... 47



Tue Snow Batt .

Tur SxetcH Book
Suine Your Boors, Sir?
Tue OLtp MILu

A Cripple ror Lire

I Dipy’r TuHInk .

Ture DrumMMER Boy
JENNIE pias

Tur EsQuiMaux .

Mr. Nopbopy

Onty Going Down TO Dane 8.
ANNA’S STAY AT THE SEASIDE.

LitrLe THINGS

Rovin AND Rose.

Maxine SUNSHINE

GoosEY, GoosEY, GANDER.
Tue LittLe ARTIST
Papra’s Lone Story

Tue Cock AND THE Fox.
Power or KINDNESS

THE WoLrF F

A. Kiss, Nor a brow ‘
Tue Stray CHICKS .

My SISTER ... . . eke
THE SAILOR AND THE raoke
SEE, THE STARS ARE CoMING
AMY ..

Sona FOR THE iors oe
Ture Youna Ropins

On THE Sanv-Bar

Don’t Lac...

PRAYER :

Oup Krrren-Cat.

PAGE

48
49
50
52
5¢

54
56
57
58
60
61
62
Hymn For A LitttE CHILD

THe Erper Duck :

Tue Fox AND THE TIGER

AnNaA’s RESOLUTION :

Tue Fox witHout A TAIL .

Tur ANTS

Tue Sick KITTEN

TuE Cow

A CHILD’s FANcY

PRIDE.

THe Drab Rone

A Kinp Worp SoMETIMES

Tue SprpER-WEB

EVENING PRAYER

Wuo FEEDS THE Birps?.

Cora ALDEN’s NeEW-Y EAR’S
Party .

THe Ponp

My Pussy Cat

A Hawk AMONG THE Be

Sine, Brrpig, SING . z

Tue Dogs or St. BERNARD .

CONTENTS.

PAGE
92
93
95
96
97
98
99

101
102
103
104
106
107
108
109

111
115
117
119
120
121



Tue OLp MAN oF THE Moun-

TAIN.

Tue LItrLe saws
Do.iy .

THE SISTERS :
Two Lirrte Kirrens .

Tut Farm ‘
ONLY A BaBY Bias, 2
Don’t Kitt THE BIRDS

A CRADLE SONG .

THe BEAR

FatHeEr’s Boots

CHARLIE.

SPEAK GENTLY i
You Can’r CATCH THE er
Tue LirtrLe CHILp’s WIsH .
One THING AT A TIME
Biowine Soap BUBBLES .
Tue Beiy Birp.. f
Tue Lion, BEAR, AND Fox :
THE JACKDAW.

GRANDPA AND HIS Haine



PAGE

123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
183
134
185
186
137
138
139
140
141
142
148


MY OWN BOOK.



MABEL’S STORY.

’M a big girl, not five years old, an’ I’m goin’ to tell my
i own story. Aunty writes it down an’ I tells it.
To go way back to the beginning. Six years ago
Mabel—that’s me—was a baby. I don’t exactly merember
how she looked or what she was mostly thinking of, though
I’ve heard a great deal ’bout that time, for I was so little then,
you see, an’ babies are so ignorant.

First Pll tell you my name—Mabel Weston, though grumpa
calls me “ Dolly,” an’ Uncle Will calls me “ Blossom,” an’ some-
times ’'m “Queeny,” “Mother Budget,” “Birdie,” an’ lots of
other names. Once they called me “Babel,” ’cause I called
myself so when I couldn’t say “Baby Bell;” and they all
thought my name was a good one.

Ive lived a good while, an’ done a good deal, an’ seen a great
many things. I know ever so much, too. I’ve heard ’em say
so when they thought I was playing with my dollies.

7
MABEL S STORY.

“Tt’s really s’prisin’,” says grumpa, “how much Mabel knows,
sayin’ off her little verses so pretty, an’ readin’ like a—like a
magpie.”

“She’s an uncommon child,” says grumma.

“No,” says aunty, “only a grunchild.”

“’Tisn’t that,” says grumpa, real quick. “Mabel can jump
rope, read, recite, knit, sew, or run better than any little girl
ever I knew, child, grunchild, or stranger.” An’ of course
grumpa knows best.

I’m good, too. I sit still in meetin’ always, unless I want
a drink, or to reach a fan, or Bible, or hymn-book, or my boots
hurt, or I want to see something better than I can in my own
seat in the pew. I don’t never kick my heels ’gainst the pew
nor swing the door nowadays. ‘

I love my darling Uncle Will, an’ he ’most always has some
candy for me when he comes home from town. I like to ge an’
meet him.

I’ve got a dear little calf with a white nose as cold as can be,
an’ a blue ribbon round its neck.

We have eighteen chickens. I know it’s eighteen, ’cause
three times nine an’ twice six are both eighteen; or is it twice
nine and three times six? I’ve learned it once, any way, an’ I
merember that it was when aunty was eighteen she first took
care of buying her own clothes.

Once when mamma was away I wrote her a letter. That’s
me in the picture, writing the letter.

I haven’t told you half I could, but aunty thinks I’ve said
enough. I haven’t told you how pretty mamma is, how good
erumpa an’ papa are, an’ all the rest of ’em. “Bout what a
pretty chamber I have for my own, an’ my playthings an’ story-
books, an’ what nice times Susy Walker an’ me have ’most
every day, but if aunty thinks best, Pll say good-by.
THE SNOW FORT.































THE SNOW FORT.

UR snow fort, our snow fort,

We've built it up in haste ;

“We knew not when the frost might break,
We had no time to waste;

So first we gathered up the snow,
And piled it in a heap;

For melons, ice, and snow forts,

Are things that will not keep.



Our snow fort, our snow fort,
We'll gather balls of snow,
And pelt it and bombard it,

As fast as we can throw.
9
OVER THE FENCE.

So gather up the balls, my boys,
And try to scale the walls ;

But take care the foe inside the fort
Don’t kill us with their balls.



OVER THE FENCE.

SE OYS are often tempted to get over a fence.
} “What for?” “What kind of a fence?” two or
three voices ask.

There are a good many kinds of fences. Fences that
you can see, fences that you can’t see. Fences of wood, and
stone, and iron; and fences invisible to human eyes.

“Tf we can’t see them, what good are they, I'd like to know?”

That question does look a little puzzling at first. But when ~
we come to think about it, the matter will grow plainer. Right,
truth, justice, are all fences. We can’t see them with our bodily
eyes, and yet they exist, and cross our ways in life as really as
any material fence; and if we jump over them, we shall be doing
just as wrong as if we leaped the fence our neighbor has put
around his garden and spoiled his fruit and flower-beds.

Sotomon’s WARNING TO THE SLUGGARD.—Go to the ant,
thou sluggard; consider her ways and be wise; which having
no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer,
and gathereth her food in the harvest. -How long wilt thou
sleep, O sluggard? When wilt thou arise out of thy sleep?
Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands
to sleep; so shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and

thy want as an armed man.
10
TOM AND HIS COUSINS.



TOM AND HIS COUSINS.

T was a great day for Tom when he obtained permission
from mamma to go into the country for a holiday with
his little cousins. And it was quite as great a day for
the little cousins when they heard the good news. What

a happy day they made of it, scampering through the meadows,
swinging on the gate, and thinking of nothing but happiness!
How delightful it must have been to have sat under the shadows
of the big trees, pulling the pretty cowslips and twisting them
into long chains!

Don’t you wish, my little readers, you had been there?

—— -~~
A wrrrte fellow was eating some bread and milk, when
he turned around to his mother and said, “Oh, mother, I
am full of glory. There was a sunbeam on my spoon and I

swallowed it.”
11
FATHER IS COMING.





























































































































| He’s through the garden-gate.

)Run, little Bess, and ope the door, — 7
And do not let him wait.

Shout, baby, shout! and clap thy hands,

For father on the threshold stands.

—______+—~en—-___—_.

Tur Sueep-SrEarmne.—A young mother led forth her little
daughter Ida to see the sheep-shearing. But the little maiden
wept at the sight, and said, “Oh, how cruel it is of men to treat
the poor creatures thus !”

“ Not so,” answered her mother; “for thus has it been ordered
by the good God, so that man may be clothed with their wool.
For man comes into the world without covering.”

“But how the poor sheep will shiver now!” exclaimed Ida.

“Ah, no!” replied her mother; “God gives to man the warm

clothing, and to the shorn lamb He sends the soft summer air.”
12














































































































STORY OF A DOG.

HESE dogs in the picture are King Charles spaniels.
They are very beautiful, their colors being black, tan,
and white. They sell for a very high price.

I heard a sorrowful story the other day about a dog.
A hound which had served her master faithfully as a hunting dog
for many years at last became old and useless. As she could
hunt no longer, her owner begrudged her food and shelter. So
she was made to lie out on the cold, hard ground all through
the winter, and was fed barely enough to keep her alive. She
became so thin that she was like a skeleton covered with skin.

Finally this poor old dog, nearly blind and deaf, and so
feeble she could not stand, seemed about té die. So her master
took her in his arms, and, carrying her out into the wood, laid
her down and left her to die.

When I heard this story, it made me feel badly, and I won-
dered how any one could be so hard-hearted as thus to abuse
and forsake one who had been so faithful a servant.

13



THE WHITE ROSE.





























































THE WHITE ROSE.

WHITE rose that grew far up ona trellis felt very
ae and sighed to be down in the garden where the
’ children were at play.

“T am of no use away up here,” she said. “ Nobody
sees me, and when I breathe out my sweet odors, the wind bears
them off among the tree-tops and they are lost.”

But even as she sighed her complaints a soft hand reached
down from a window and took her gently from the stem that
bore her, and she heard a voice say,—

“How pure and sweet !—pure as my patient Lily.”

Then the hand that held her tenderly bore her to an inner
ehamber, where a sick child lay upon a bed.

“This beautiful white rose,” said the voice which had sounded

so sweetly, ‘came up from the garden and grew close by the
14
SO HIGH!

window. It has breathed the purest air and drank the warmest
sunshine. Its heart is full of sweetness.”

And the hand held her close to the sick child, who was re-
freshed by her beauty and fragrance.

Then the rose quivered with delight, and, breathing out her
very heart upon the air, filled the chamber with a rich perfume.

“Tam content,” she said a little while afterward, as she lay
on the pillow beside the sick child, her soft white leaves touch-
ing the cheek as soft and white as themselves.





































SO HIGH!

HAT a little thing am IT!
Hardly higher than the table :
I can eat and play and cry,
But to work I am not able.

15


WILLIE.



























WILLIE.
ILLIAM, or Willie, as his father loves to call him, is

a funny little fellow. His great delight is in looking

at the sea; he will sit for hours with his boat in his

lap trying to understand the meaning of the white
caps that flash in the sunlight. He will leave his horse and
ball, or any other toy, to go and sit alone on the rocks. On his
birthday his sister Mary brought him a nice new boat, all
painted bright red. I should not wonder if Willie would some-
time be a sailor.



16
THE STRAY LAMB.















—— =

THE STRAY LAMB.

OME, children, leave your play and let the poor little

moth fly around unharmed, and I will tell you a story.

Eagerly the little ones gathered around mamma, who
told the following story.

There was once a shepherd who had a great many sheep and
lambs. He took care of them, and gave them sweet, fresh grass
to eat, and clear water to drink; if they were sick he was very
good to them, and when they climbed up a steep hill and their
lambs were tired he used to carry them in his arms.

But every night when it grew dark and cold the shepherd
called all his flock, sheep and lambs together, and drove them
into the fold, where they lay as snug and warm and comfortable
as could be, and the dogs lay round on the outside to guard
them; and in the morning the shepherd unpenned the fold and
let them out again.

Now, they were all very happy, and loved the shepherd

dearly, all except one foolish little lamb. And this lamb did
2 17
THE STRAY LAMB.

not like to be shut up every night in the fold, and she came to her
mother, who was a wise old sheep, and said to her, “I wonder
why we are all shut up every night; the dogs are not shut up
and why should we be shut up? I think it is very hard, and I
will get away if I can, I am resolved; for I like to run about
where I please, and I think it very pleasant in the woods by
moonlight.” Then the old sheep said to her, “You are very
silly, little lamb; you had better stay in the fold. The shepherd
is so good to us, that we should always do as he bids; and if you
wander away, I dare say you will come to some harm.”

“T dare say not,” said the little lamb. And so, when the
evening came, and the shepherd called them all to come into the
fold, she would not come, but crept slyly under a hedge and hid
herself; and when the rest of the lambs were all in the fold fast
asleep, she came out and jumped and frisked and danced about;
and she got out of the field and went into a forest full of trees,
anda very fierce wolf came rushing out of a cave, and howled
very loud. Then the silly lamb wished she had been shut up
in the fold; but the fold was a great way off, and the wolf saw
her and seized her, and carried her away to a dark den, all
covered with bones and blood. There the wolf had two cubs,
and the wolf said to them, “Here, I have brought you a young
fat lamb.” And so the cubs took her and growled,over her a
little while, and then tore her to pieces and ate her up.

Now, all girls and boys who do not mind what is said to them,
and will have their own way, may be, like this lamb, in danger
of being hurt, and they may have cause sorely to repent not
having minded what their parents said to them.



A uitTLe boy disputing with his sister about something
said, “It’s true, for ma said so; and if ma says it’s so, it is so,
of ut isn’t so.”

18
THE SWALLOW.



THE SWALLOW.

y N the warm summer it is pleasant to watch the restless
p | swallows, ever on the wing, wheeling round and round
» ~ With their wide-spread wings and forked tails, catching

the insects which form their food. If the air be moist,
these insects cannot fly high, and the swallow must skim along
very near the ground to seek its prey; then we judge that rain
will soon fall, for the swallow flies low. But when the autumn
comes, and the wind blows cold, the swallows gather in crowds
at some unknown signal, and take their flight across the seas to
some warmer climate; they will sometimes rest on the masts of
a ship in their long flight. The next summer the swallows
return to their old nests, as if they had reason like man. We
know that God has given reason to man alone; but his bounty
has given the swallow the instinct which guides it to the spot
best fitted for its wants.

\

>

Some men are proud that they are strong; but not all the
strong men in the world could drive back the sea, or stay the
wind, or hold the clouds so that the rain should not fall. God

can hold the sea, and still the wind, and stay the rain.
19




ROBERT.
) OBERT was a clever boy at school; his teachers were



very fond of him, and took great delight in getting
him on with his lessons. His mamma had no trouble
with him, for he would go into his room with his
favorite, Rover, and learn his lessons without a murmur. He
was very anxious to know about everything, and often puzzled
his mamma by asking more questions than she could answer.
Sometimes, when it was dark, he would slip into his room to
have a peep at the moon and stars. Once he looked through
a telescope at the moon, and saw the dark spots upon it they
call mountains. Robert was a good boy, and made up his
mind to learn his lessons well, and know everything.



Tae Two Facres.—One was old and wrinkled, the other
young and smooth, and soft as a rose-leaf; and yet, looking at
the two faces, you would call the old one the most beautiful.
Why? A beautiful soul gave sweetness to that face, while a
mean and selfish soul shadowed the other. Discontent, envy,
anger, peevishness, love of self, will, if suffered to rule in the
heart, gradually change the most lovely face until it becomes
repulsive; while contentment, and the love of others which seeks
to do them good, will, in time, give to plain and unlovely features
a touch of beauty. It is no light saying, that “the good are
beautiful.”” They have beautiful souls, and, sooner or later, the

soul stamps its image on the face.
20


Fe

* SEs

ee
eee FZ

See
See
FF pSSsswryz
DSS








THE ROBIN.



THE ROBIN.

OME, here little robin, and don’t be afraid,
I would not hurt even a feather;
Come here, little robin, and pick up some bread,
To feed you this very cold weather.



I don’t mean to hurt you, you poor little thing,
And pussy-cat is not behind me;

So hop about pretty and put down your wing,
And pick up the crumbs and don’t mind me.

Cold winter is come, but it will not last long,
And summer we soon shall be greeting;
Then remember, sweet robin, to sing me a song,

In return for the breakfast you’re eating.
22
THE EAGLE AND THE FOX.



THE EAGLE AND Prue FOX.



N eagle that had young ones, looking out for something
\ to feed them with, happened to spy a fox’s cub that lay
c | basking itself abroad in the sun. She made a stoop and
trussed it immediately; but before she had carried it
quite off, the old fox, coming home, implored her, with tears in
her eyes, to spare her cub, and pity the distress of a poor fond
mother who should think no affliction so great as that of losing
her child. The eagle, whose nest was up in a very high tree,
thought herself secure enough from all projects of revenge, and
so bore away the cub to her young ones, without showing any
regard to the supplications of the fox. But that subtle crea-
ture, highly incensed at this outrageous barbarity, ran to an
altar, where some country people had been sacrificing a kid in
the open fields, and, catching up a firebrand in her mouth, made
towards the tree where the eagle’s nest was, with a resolution
of revenge. She had scarce ascended the first branches, when
the eagle, terrified with the approaching ruin of herself and
family, begged of the fox to desist, and, with much submission,
returned her the cub again safe and sound.
If you intentionally injure your neighbor, you put yourself

in his power.
23
THE PRAIRIE ON FIRE.







































































THE PRAIRIE ON FIRE.
mH E long grass, burned brown

A) In the summer’s fierce heat,
SY Snaps brittle and dry
’Neath the traveller’s feet,
As over the prairie,
Through all the long day,
His white, tent-like wagon
Moves slow on its way.

But hark! in the distance
The dull, trampling tread ;
And see how the sky
Has grown suddenly red!
What has lighted the west
At the hour of noon?
It is not the sunset,

It is not the moon!
24
THE PRAIRIE ON FIRE.

The horses are rearing
And snorting with fear,
And oyer the prairie
Come flying the deer,
With hot, smoking haunches,
And eyes rolling back,
As if the fierce hunter
Were hard on their track.

The mother clasps closer
The babe on her arm,
While the children cling to her
In wildest alarm ;
And the father speaks low,
As the red light: mounts higher:
“We are lost! we are lost !
Tis the prairie on fire !”
The boys, terror-stricken,
Stand still, all but one;
He has seen in a moment
The thing to be done ;
He has lighted the grass,
The quick flames leap in air;
And the pathway before them
Lies smoking and bare !

Now the fire-fiend behind
Rushes on in his power,
But nothing is left
For his wrath to devour;

On the scarred, smoking earth
They stand safe, every one,
While the flames in the distance
Sweep a on.

5
A GOOD-NIGHT SONG.

Then reverently under
The wide sky they kneel,
With spirits too thankful
To speak what they feel ;
But the father in silence
Is blessing his boy,
While the mother and children
Are weeping for joy.



A GOOD-NIGHT SONG,

20 bed, to bed, my curly head,

) To bed, and sleep so sweetly ;

Merry and bright, with the morning light,
Be up and dressed so neatly.



Then for a walk, and a pleasant talk
About the birds and flowers ;

And all the day, in work and play,
We'll pass the happy hours.

And then to bed, to rest the head,
And sleep until the morrow:
May every day thus glide away,
Without a shade of sorrow.
TuE dew-drops on the summer morn
Sparkle upon the grass ;
The village children brush them off
As through the fields they pass.
There are no gems in monarch’s crown
More beautiful than they,
And yet we scarcely notice them,
But tread them off in play.
26
THE TRAVELLERS AND THE BEAR.



THE TRAVELLERS AND THE BEAR.

cxewo men being to travel through a forest together, mutu-
| ally promised to stand by aa other in any danger they
—’ should meet upon the way. They had not gone far
before a bear came rushing towards them out of a thicket;
upon which one, being a light, nimble fellow, got up into a tree;
the other, falling flat upon his face and holding his breath, lay
still while the bear came up and smelled at him; but that crea-
ture, supposing him to be a dead carcass, went back again into
the wood, without doing him the least harm. When all was
over, the spark who had climbed the tree came down to his
companion, and, with a pleasant smile, asked him what the bear
said to him; “For,” says he, “TI took notice that he clapped his
mouth very close to your ear.” “ Why,” replied the other, “he
charged me to take care, for the ve, not to put any confi-
dence in such cowardly rascals as you.”

Professions of friendship are of little avail till they have
been tried.





Ay indolent boy rarely, if ever, becomes a good business man.
27
THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.



THE WOLF AND THE LAMB.

NE hot, sultry day, a wolf and a lamb happened to
come, just at the same time, to quench their thirst in
the stream of a clear silver brook that ran tumbling
down the side of a rocky mountain. The wolf stood

upon the higher ground, and the lamb at some distance from

him down the current. However, the wolf having a mind to
pick a quarrel with him, asked him what he meant by disturbing
the water, and making it so muddy that he could not drink?
and at the same time demanded satisfaction. The lamb, fright-
ened at this threatening charge, told him in a tone as mild as
possible that, with humble submission, he could not conceive
how that could be, since the water which he drank ran down
from the wolf to him, and therefore it could not be disturbed so
far up the stream. “ Be that as it will,” replies the wolf, “ you

are a rascal, and I have been told that you treated me with ill

language, behind my back, about half a year ago.” “Upon my

word,” says the lamb, “the time you mention was before I was
born.” The wolf, finding it to no purpose to argue any longer

against truth, fell into a great passion, snarling and foaming at
28


THE TRUE SECRET.

the mouth as if he had been mad; and drawing nearer to the
lamb, “Sirrah,” says he, “if it was not you, it was your father,
and that is all one.” So he seized the poor innocent helpless
thing, tore it to pieces, and made a meal of it.

A person bent on injuring one more innocent than himself,
will never lack excuses.



THE TRUE SECRET.

\ T the house where I was staying, there were two little
\ sisters whom nobody could see without loving, for they
were always so happy together. They had the same
books and the same playthings, but never a quarrel
sprang up between them—no cross words, no pouts, no slaps,
no running away in a pet. ~ On the green before the door, trund-
ling hoop, playing with Rover the dog or helping mother, they
were always the same sweet-tempered little girls.
“You never seem to quarrel,” I said to them one day: “how
is it you are always so happy together?”
They looked up, and the eldest answered, “TI s’pose ’tis ’cause
Addie lets me and I let Addie.”





LirtteE Turnes.—Springs are little things, but they are
sources of large streams; a helm is a little thing, but it governs
the course of a ship; a bridle-bit is a little thing, but see its
use and powers; nails and pegs are little things, but they hold
the parts of a large building together; a word, a look, a smile,
a frown, are all little things, but powerful for good or evil.

Think of this and mind the little things.
29
OUR DARLING.

y OUNDING like a football,
ly Kicking at the door ;
ly alling aan the table-top,
Sprawling on the floor ;
Smashing cups and saucers,
Splitting dolly’s head ;
Putting little doggie
Into baby’s bed.

Building shops and houses,
Spoiling father’s hat,

Hiding mother’s precious keys
Underneath the mat ;

Jumping on the fender,
Poking at the fire,

Dancing on his little legs—
Legs that never tire.

Making mother’s heart leap
Fifty times a day ;

Aping everything we do,
Every word we say.

Shouting, laughing, tumbling,
Roaring with a will,

Anywhere and everywhere,
Never, never still.

Present—bringing sunshine ;
Absent-—leaving night ;
That’s our precious darling,

That’s our hearts’ delight.
30
THE HORSE.



_ I will tell you of what great use he is to man. He can
draw great loads for miles, to towns far off, or we could
not sell our corn and hay. We can ride on his back

half the day, or we can put him in a gig and he will trot fast,
and soon take us where we wish to go; and if we give him some
hay and oats at night, he is quite glad. Poor, good horse! we
ought not to whip or spur him, but be kind to him, for he is a
good friend to us. He knows a great deal more than you would
think; for, if he has gone once to a place, he can find his own
way to it the next time he goes.

We will give him some clean straw for his bed, and some oats
and hay to eat.

A dray horse can draw great loads. A gig horse can trot
fast. .A horse which men use when they hunt can jump high
and far ; and a race horse can run so fast that no dog can pass it.



WHEREVER you are and whatever you do,

Oh never, no, never, forget to be true!
31
BEING USEFUL.





BEING USEFUL.

But once was smaller still;
I used to cobble up my work,
And do it—oh, so ill!

I only quite a little girl,

And yet I always took such pains,
And thought I worked so well ;

Perhaps you don’t admire it yet,
Only you will not tell.

I can’t quite thread my needle yet,
They make the hole so small ;

Mother’s the only one that can, .
For granny can’t at all.

And father says he can’t see how
We women ever can;
The needles have such little eyes,—

But then he is a man.
32
BEING USEFUL.

I am but quite a little girl,
But I am useful too,

For mother says so; I know how
Quite many things to do.

The cradle I can rock, and sing,
And carry baby out

A little way, and then I let
Him creep and trot about.

The dinner I can help to set,
And put away the tea;

And many things there are to do,
Just fit for Tom and me.

Sometimes we play at sweeping up,
And making all things neat;

We'd like to set the world to rights,
And have it clean and sweet.

But people laugh when we say so,
And say, “It can’t be done;”

But granny sighs, and says it might,
If “each one mended one.”



A x1npty word, a soothing look,
Have ready aye for all;

We are our Maker’s handiwork;
He made us, great and small.
We're all the children of his care;
Oh, then, for His dear sake,

Be sure such usage still to give

As you would like to take.
33
THE LOAF OF BREAD.













THE LOAF OF BREAD.

OME, children, if you will all sit down and keep quiet, I
will tell you a story father read to me last night.
The little ones all agreed to Tom’s proposition, and
were soon seated around him.

So Tom began, as follows :—

In a time of famine a rich man allowed twenty of the
poorest children in the town to come to his house, and said to
them, “In this basket there is a loaf of bread for each of you;
take it, and come again at the same hour every day till God
sends better times.”

The children pounced upon the basket, struggled and fought

over the bread, because each wished to have the largest and best
34


USEFULNESS.

loaf, and then they went away without a word of thanks to
their friend.

But Francesca, a little girl meanly though neatly dressed,
stood at a distance, and gratefully took the loaf that was left in
the basket, which was the smallest, then she kissed the good
man’s hand and went quietly home.

The next day the children were just as naughty and ill-be-
haved, and this time there was left for poor Francesca a loaf
that was hardly half as large as the others. But when she
reached home and her mother cut the bread, there fell out a
number of new pieces of silver. The mother was frightened,
and said, “Take back the money this moment, for it is certainly
in the bread by mistake.”

Francesca took it back.

But the kind man said, “It is no mistake, my good child: I
had the money baked in the smallest loaf in order to reward
you. Be always as contented and yielding as you now are.
He who is contented with the smallest loaf, rather than quarrel
for the largest, will receive abundant blessings.”



USEFULNESS.
qn said little Annie Ray,

a ‘|. “ Why must I sit and sew?
Sb Ww



hy must I dust the room each day ?
I’m sure I do not know.

“You say that ’tis less trouble
For you these things to do,
Than spend your time in teaching me;

And that I’m sure is true.”
35
USEFULNESS.





















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































“But none, my Annie, ever live
In the bright world above,

But those who here on earth have striven
Others to help and love.”

“QO, then,” said Annie, “T’ll try each day
A useful child to be,
And gladly do the little tasks

That you appoint for me.
36
USEFULNESS.

“Then, mother, let me run and play ;
The little birds are singing,

The lark is on his upward way,
The bee his honey bringing.

“The butterfly from flower to flower
Roams o’er the smiling meadow,

The little brook sings on among
Sunshine and silent shadow.”

“ And he who would be glad as they,
Must be as useful too,”

The mother said, as to her side
Her child she fondly drew.

“Not for himself the light-winged lark
Sings as he upward soars,

But for his mate and nestlings dear
His song of love outpours.

“Not for himself the laden bee
Flies home on weary wings ;

My Annie knows what honey sweet
From fields and woods he brings.”



37
AGAINST QUARRELLING AND FIGHTING.



(fe ET dogs delight to bark and bite,
For God hath made them so:



For ’tis their nature, too.

But, children, you should never let
Such angry passions rise :

Your little hands were never made
To tear each other’s eyes.

<0 _—__

WueEy little ones worry
Their parents feel sorry,
And all who are near them are sad;
But when they are good,
And smile as they should,

Their friends are contented and glad.
38
A SUMMER CALL.



















A SUMMER CALL.

RLS and boys, come out to play,

Trees are green and fields are gay,

~ While little birds carol on every spray—
Girls and boys, come out to play.



Leave your slates, and close your books,
Come explore my pleasant nooks,
And see your shadows in mirroring brooks—

Girls and boys, come out to play.
By
A SUMMER CALL.

Tread the springy sward again,
Gather hawthorn down the lane,
And link the delicate daisy chain—
Girls and boys, come out to play.

Come in quest of violets rare,

Twine the primrose in your hair,

And seek for the hyacinth fresh and fair—
Girls and boys, come out to play.

Heed—oh, heed my loving call!

Fly the city’s frowning wall,

I’ve a kiss for the cheek of one and all—
Shall bring the roses into play.

Be ye rich or be ye poor,

Child of gentle, or child of poor,

Alike to you do I open my store,

“So gather your May buds while you may.”



40
THE COWS.



as Ge

THE COWS.

‘yy UN down the lane as fast as you can, and you will be in
dy time to see the cows. The gate is wide open, and they

will all walk into the yard. One of them has a calf,

of which she is very fond; you will find that she will
go up to the cowshed to see it, for she can hear it low. Cows
give us milk; and there is no part of a cow that is not of some
use, when it is killed. You have a cup and a shoe-horn made
of the cow’s horn; and you have a box made of its bone; and
part of your shoe is made of its skin; and you often dine on
beef and eat suet dumplings.

At one time cattle lived in a wild state, and men used to go out
and hunt them; a few of this sort are yet kept in the parks.
Last year your aunt took me to see some wild cattle that were
kept in a park not very far from her home. I did not see them
very well, for they were a long way off, near a dark wood, and
we did not wish to go very near them. The man at the gate
told us that when he goes into the park, the herd will come up
to him, but not very near: then one bull will come out from the
herd to look at him, and paw the turf with his hoof, and toss his

head, and lash his tail, and then dash off; but by and by he
4l
PIGGY’S MISSION.

will come back, and stop, not far from the man this time; and
so he will go on till the man gets out of his way, for fear of
being tossed.

When a calf is born, the cow will hide it in the fern, till it
can run; but if any one goes up to it, it will butt with its head
and paw the turf, just like an old bull.



PIGGY’S MISSION.

SRED’S father had committed to him the care of the pigs
7 and the hens. The hens were all right. They stayed
in their pens till they were let out, and went to bed in
good time.

But the pigs Fred didn’t love, particularly one that always
would be getting out, and then away he would go.

One morning Fred sat down in his mother’s neat kitchen,
with a look of desperation on his face.

“Well, Fred, and what now?”

“T just want to know what that pig’s good for. She’s out
again, and when I went to drive her in, away she went, like mad.”

“TJ really can think of but one thing,” said his mother, quietly.

“What’s that ?”

“JT hardly think you will agree with me.”

“J will. She’s of no use now but to try my patience, and I
should like her put to some other purpose.”

“Tam glad to find you agree with me, after all,” said his
mother, smiling. “TI really can see no use for poor piggy just
at present, but to try my boy’s patience. And if patience shall
have its perfect work, I think that even piggy’s mission will
not be an unworthy one.”

Fred wisely concluded that if that really was all that piggy
was good for, he would try and bear it cheerfully. And so

piggy’s mission was accomplished.
42


FLOSSIE’S BIRDS.



FLOSSIE’S BIRDS.
1 HIRP—chirp !

+
| Flossie loved birds, but for some reason she was not
* ready to feed them that morning, though she was in the

habit of doing so, and had made them so tame that they
came every day expecting it, and would hop so near as almost
to be touched, looking up in her face with their bright, fearless
eyes.

It was a splendid summer morning. Flossie’s home wore an
inviting aspect, nestled in among elms and lindens; a grassy
lawn in front sweeping down to the road, flower-garden and
orchard on one side, and on the other a broad, beautiful river,
glistening in the sunlight and reflecting the blue sky, sprinkled
with fleecy clouds. At a little distance stood an old mill, its
water-wheel plashing musically, and beyond were other homes,
wooded hills, and waving grain-fields.

But all this beauty seemed lost upon the little girl, who sat
moodily in the side of the porch.

“What is the matter, Flossie?” asked her aunt, coming up
the walk.
FLOSSIE’S BIRDS.

“Oh, auntie, I wanted so much to go to South Shore to-day—
we expected to—and father won’t! It’s too bad !”

“No doubt he has some good reason, dear; you know he
very seldom refuses you a pleasure. You can go some other
day ; we shall have warm weather some weeks yet.”

Auntie tried to change the current of the little girl’s thoughts
or rouse her to some unselfish act; but Flossie persisted in
making herself uncomfortable, and her aunt went into the house.

A robin flew down close to his little friend, and two or three
sparrows hopped about, asking as plainly as they could for their
wonted meal; but she was too much wrapped up in herself to ,
heed them.

She arose and walked slowly along the garden path. Here
and there were chairs, and Flossie sat down in the grape-arbor.
The day was very warm, and she fell asleep.

The little birds she had neglected seemed to come to her, and
(for you know all sorts of queer things happen in dreams) she
began to understand their notes and chirpings. What did they
say to her?

Well, first they sang together a pretty song about the beau-
tiful morning, the green woods and flowing river, the sunny
sky and grand old hills; their own cozy nests, where baby-
birds were waiting for them to bring home breakfast.

“Oh, birdies,” said Flossie—for she began to feel for them—
“T haven’t helped you any this morning; I wi// give you some
crumbs.”

There were some quick little chirpings which meant,—

“Thank you! We’re very glad; we were afraid you had
forgotten us and wouldn’t care for us any more.”

Then a robin hopped up to her and chirped,—

“What is the matter? You don’t look as if you felt well
and happy, as we do. Are you sick?”

Flossie by this time felt quite ashamed that she must tell her
, 44
FEEDING THE BIRDS.

feathered friends the lovely morning was lost to her because she
could not have her own way !

“Well, I would not sit and think about it,’ warbled the
robin; “we don’t when we cannot find what we want, or have
things as we like best. We go right about our work. If we're
building nests, we keep building as nicely as we can. If we’ve
egos, mamma robin sits patiently, not letting a breath of cold
air touch them, while I do the providing. If we’ve young birds,
we fly round and hunt up food, feed them, brood them tenderly,
teach them to fly and sing. We all have our work to do, and
for others besides ourselves; we do it cheerfully, constantly, not
for reward or from fear, but out of love.”

“Yes, that’s it,” piped Bobolink ; “and we don’t stop to fret.
If it rains to-day, we say, sunshine to-morrow.”

“Tf anything goes wrong,” chimed in yellow-bird, “ we sing,
more days coming! Even if we lose our nests—and we do
grieve sorely over that—we take courage and build others. We
get our sunshine, make the most of it, and the rain don’t last.”

A swallow flew down to the river’s edge to drink and bathe;
and as Flossie watched him merrily splashing the water over
himself with feet, wings, and head, she thought she would never
let her mother need tell her to be tidy. The bad feelings were
melting away, the sunshine coming back to her heart.



FEEDING THE BIRDS.

~ OME, little birdies,
Come and be fed,
I’ve brought you a lapful
Of nice crumbled bread.

45


LITTLE PUSSY.

















































LITTLE PUSSY.

LOVE little pussy, her coat is so warm ;

And if I don’t hurt her, she’ll do me no harm.
So Pll not pull her tail, nor drive her away,

But pussy and I very gently will play.

She’ll sit by my side, and I’ll give her some food,
And pussy will love me, because I am good.

My kitty is gentle, she loves me right well ;
How funny her play is I’m sure I can’t tell.
Now under the sofa, now under the table,

She runs and plays bo-peep as well as she’s able.
Oh, dearly I love her! You never did see

Two happier playmates than kitty and me.
46
THE ROADSIDE INN.





























THE ROADSIDE INN.

HIS is a very old inn by the roadside, called “The Jolly
Fishers,” though why it should be called by that name
I can’t say; but inns have very funny names sometimes.
I wonder if they will give that poor man something to

eat, who looks so tired as he leans up against the fence. He

has been walking along the dusty road, and is no doubt glad to
rest awhile before going farther on. What a funny-looking
little man on horseback away at the other end of the picture.

See if your sharp eyes can find him.





Goop boys and girls should never say,
“T will,” and, “ Give me these:”
O no; that never is the way,
But, “ Mother, if you please.”
47
THE SNOW BALL.











Vw

THE SNOW BALL.



i (2 URRAH! hurrah! for the snow. What a big ball we
4!) have made! Little Ned has his wheelbarrow to help

carry the snow. Kitty and Bess have not got their
hats; they'will catch cold, I fear. Nurse does not know
they are out; but they are good little girls, and will go in when

she calls them.

Lire is a see-saw game at best,
And whether you’re up or down,
Do your duty, and don’t forget

’Tis better to laugh than frown.
48
THE SKETCH BOOK.



THE SKETCH BOOK.

C~OGETHER sat the sisters, looking over their book, hardly
All knowing how to express their delight at the many beau-
¢ tiful pictures which met their eyes.

There were old castles, standing like grim sentinels
upon the brinks of frowning precipices ; lovely lakes, in which
were mirrored the graceful trees and sloping hills that encircled
them; and there were many rural scenes, where were simple
cottages with their pleasant surroundings; flocks feeding on the
river-banks, and “quiet cattle standing knee-deep in the gliding
waters.”

“See!” said Gertrude, as in turning a leaf she caught a
glimpse of a lovely group of children. ‘This must be a picture
of the German family brother Herbert has mentioned in his
letters. ‘Good-night to the sun’ he has written under it. See,

Laura! ‘There is little Gottleib away out on the edge of the
4 , 49
“SHINE YOUR BOOTS, SIR?”

cliff, with his staff in one hand and his hat in the other, stretch-
ing out his arms and looking as if he were singing.”

“ And that sweet young girl,” said Laura, “ who stands there,
shading her eyes with her hand, must be the good Annette he
wrote to us about, who is so like a mother to the other little
ones.”

‘‘T remember about her,” said Gertrude. “She was only
ten years old when her mother died, leaving her the care of
both her baby sister and her little brother, who was hardly
more than a baby. Brother Herbert stayed all night there once,
in their little cottage among the mountains.”

————- + + ____

““SHINE YOUR BOOTS, SIR?”

SHE voice was childish and sweet-toned, but a little un-

A! steady. The man glanced down. From under the brim

YY of an old felt hat that had once been white, a pair of
soft, large eyes looked up into his.

“Shine your boots, sir?”

The man shook his head, as he uttered a brief “ No,” and
passed on.

But the tender face and soft, asking eyes haunted him. After
walking on for half a block, trying to forget the face of the boy,
he stopped, turned around, and went back, he hardly knew why.

“Shine your boots, sir?” It was the same innocent voice, but
a little firmer in tone. He looked down at the bare feet and
worn old clothes, and a feeling of pity touched his heart.

“Not this morning, my lad,” answered the man, “ but here’s
the price of a shine ;” and reached him ten cents.

“‘Haven’t come to that yet.” And the lad drew himself up
alittle proudly. “I’m not a beggar, but a bootblack. Just let

me shine ’em, sir. Won’t keep you a minute.”
50
“SHINE YOUR BOOTS, SIR?”







There was no resisting this appeal. So the man placed his
boot on the boy’s foot-rest, and in a little while its surface was
like polished ebony.

“Thank you!” said the little fellow, as, on finishing the second
boot, he received his fee.

a

“THars How.’—After a great snow-storm, a little fellow
began to shovel a path through a large bank before his mother’s
door. He had nothing but a small shovel to work with.

“How do you expect to get through that drift?” asked a man
passing by.

“ By keeping at it,” said the boy, cheerfully ; “that’s how.”



“ Moruer,” said a little girl, “I gave a beggar-child a drink
of water, and she said ‘Thank you!’ so beautifully that it made
me glad. I shall never forget it.”

Now, if any one feels fretful or discontented, or unhappy in
any way, here is the medicine. Let him do a “thank you’s”

worth of kindness every hour, and he will be cured.
51
THE OLD MILL.

y HEN I was a little girl I was very fond of wandering
| off by myself through the fields and woods.

The most beautiful spot to me in all my rambles was
where a mill stood with a great pond beside it. The
pond was surrounded by great trees, the branches of which bent
down almost to the water; while away up at its upper end
willows grew in a dense thicket, and with their light cool green
made a delightful contrast with the sombre hues of the other
trees. Here too, up among the willows, the rushes grew tall and






thick, and the “spatter-docks” spread their broad leaves over
the surface of the water. But farther down the pond was deep
and clear.

I remember how happy I was once, when a boy in a crazy old
boat took me out to the centre of the pond. It was my very first
ride on the water. And to float around on its glassy surface
and up under the green boughs of the trees was like an adven-
ture in fairy-land. The mere sight of the pond always filled me
with a kind of fear; but when I was upon it, I never thought
of feeling afraid.

49>

A LITTLE girl of eight or ten summers being asked what dust

was, replied that “it was mud with the juice squeezed out.”
52
A CRIPPLE FOR LIFE.





A CRIPPLE FOR LIFE.

AVE you noticed that poor little fellow on crutches, at
the white house round the corner?” said one of three
ladies who were spending an afternoon together.

“Yes, and it was just in my thought to speak of
him,” was answered. “1 noticed the child yesterday in our
garden playing with my Mary. She was just putting a little
doll of her’s into a cart, and the boy had tied a string to his
crutch and in that way was going to draw it. He has such a
sweet, patient face. He can’t be more than ten years old.”

“ And a cripple for life !” said the third lady.

How sad it is, and how kind all the children should be to the
poor and suffering, and thank God that they are sound in all
their limbs !





THE more you draw from the well of truth the clearer the

water becomes.
53


“1. DIDN’T THINK.”

+

((/\® ARRY was a bright, warm-hearted boy. He wished to
| make every one happy, but somehow he seemed not

only to be often in trouble himself, but to make trouble
for those around him.

One morning mother said, “Try and be quiet, children, for
Aunt Fanny has a headache.” Harry was the first to promise
that he would be still.

Not ten minutes after he was romping with Nero, shouting
at him and making him bark. Mother sent Nellie to tell him
to be quiet. “Iam sorry,” he said; “I didn’t think.”

In a few minutes he was showing as near as he could the way
lions roar and bears growl. “Oh, I didn’t think,” said Harry.

Shall I tell you how by just this one great fault of not think-
ing, Harry very nearly lost his life? One summer his father
took a cottage at the sea-shore, and great was the delight of the
children to stand on a rock overhanging the sea, and watch the
great ships skimming the water like giant swans. But it was
quite a dangerous point, and their mother had often cautioned
the children against going to the edge of the rock. One morn-
ing they had been playing near this spot; Harry had taken off
his shoes and stockings, and Nellie was gathering berries. She
had wandered far out of sight among the thick bushes: but
after picking all she could, she returned to where she had left

Harry a few moments before. What was her horror to find
54

ap

}







































THE DRUMMER BOY.

him standing close to the edge of the rock. She was afraid to
speak, knowing that a sudden start would send him headlong
on the rocks below. Hardly daring to breathe, she stole up
noiselessly behind him, with outstretched arm, until she was near
enough to catch firm hold on his clothes, when with a sudden
jerk she saved him from what might have been a horrible
death.

“Oh, Harry!” said Nellie, “how could you have been so
careless?”

“T am dreadfully sorry, Nellie, but I didn’t think.”

So you see, dear children, how terrible might have been the
consequences of not thinking.



THE DRUMMER BOY.

(N a certain regiment there was a drummer boy only thir-
| teen years old, who was also a Sunday-school scholar. One

day, while marching through the streets, the captain saw a

very beautiful flag flying over a gin-palace, and ordered his
men to halt and give it a salute. The boy had always obeyed
orders, but this time he thought the salute was meant for the
place as well as for the flag, and he stood still, and not a single
beat was heard from his drum. The captain sternly asked him
the reason of this.

“Sir,” said the brave lad, “I would not go into such a place
as that, and I cannot salute it.”

“My good boy,” replied the captain, patting him on the
shoulder, “ you are right and I am wrong.”



a

ages
JENNIE.





WAS AY ae

i ay |






























































































































































































































JENNIE.

ENNIE is a crippled lass,
Pale, and sad, and wan;
Won't you go and cheer her up,
Gladly, if you can?
In her chair she sadly sits
All the summer day,
Listening, while the other girls
Laugh, and shout, and play.



There she sits so dull and sad;
Don’t you long to try

If you cannot make her smile,
When you pass her by?

Haven’t you a picture-book
You could bring and show ?

Tales of wild and sunny lands

Jennie likes to know.
57
THE ESQUIMAUX.















THE ESQUIMAUX.

ND now for the Esquimaux boy and his dinner!” ex-
claimed John, as he bounded into the house on coming
home from school. His mother took down a book from
the shelf, and showed him a picture, which we have

copied for our little readers.

“What a queer-looking boy !” said John. “ What a funny
dress! What is he doing, mother ?”

“ Getting his dinner,” she replied.

“Catching birds?”

“Yes. You see an Esquimaux lad, who lives away off in
the icy north. He is dressed in furs to keep him warm. It is

night for half the year where he lives, and he is always sur-
58


THE ESQUIMAUX.

rounded with ice and snow. During the greater part of this
long night, he lives in a room away down under the snow, to
get into which the people have to crawl through a long low
passage-way, sometimes twenty or thirty feet long. In this
room, not larger than our kitchen, six or seven persons often
live. They have no wood nor coal in their snow and ice-covered
country. To get light, and fire to cook with, they burn grease
in lamps and pans. Their food is walrus, and seal, and bear’s
meat; and in the short summer they catch birds that flock there
in millions to lay their eggs and rear their young. They have no
flour, nor beans, nor rice, nor sugar. No ripe fruits, nor garden
vegetables such as we have.”

“ Oh, what a dreadful place to live in!” said John.

“But they don’t think so; and the boy you see with his
bird’s net of seal-skin tied to the end of a narwhal’s tusk, and
standing on an ice-covered ledge of rock jutting out over the
water, doesn’t think it any more of a hardship to get his dinner
in this way, than you did to run over to the store this morning
for yours and mine.”

“What kind of birds is he catching, mother?” asked John.

“They are called little auks, and are something like ducks,
but with shorter wings. The great auk is as large as a goose,
and can swim under water faster than a man can row a boat;
indeed, it is said that six men in a boat once pursued a great
auk, swimming under water, but couldn’t overtake it.”

Nee




Sy
Gy} Ab





my
- N Ws WS
e i a =~ pe ee LS) ZN
ba

59
MR. NOBODY.

ID you ever hear of Mr. Nobody, little reader? I’m sure
| you must have heard of him, for he’s about ’most all the
while and seems to be doing a great deal of mischief.
Here is something about him which we take from a
magazine published in England:



“T know a funny little man,

As quiet as a mouse,

Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody’s house.

There’s no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree

That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr. Nobody.

“?Tis he who always tears our books—

Who leaves our doors ajar ;

He pulls the buttons from our shirts,
And scatters pins afar.

That squeaking door will always squeak,
For, prithee, don’t you see,

We leave the oiling to be done
By Mr. Nobody?

“The finger-marks upon the doors
By none of us are made;
We never leave the blinds unclosed,
To let the curtains fade.
The ink we never spill; the boots
That lying round you see
Are not our boots—they all belong

To Mr. Nobody.”
60
‘ONLY GOING DOWN TO TATE’S.”

cy MUST tell you a little story about my parrot, which I
| have often told to my nieces and nephews.
: My father was an old gentleman who was very regular
in his habits, and every evening it was his custom to take
a stroll after tea to visit some very old friends of the name of
Tate, who lived close by in the next street; and before leaving _
the house he would open the door of the dining-room, where we
used to sit, and would say aloud, “Only going down to Tate’s,”
and then we knew he would be absent for an hour or two, chat-
ting with his old friend Mr. Tate.

Now it happened one evening that Polly’s cage-door was left
open. We sometimes let him walk about the room when he
was very good, as a great treat. And this evening, of which I
speak, we suddenly missed him from the room, and could not
think where he had gone; and as we were very fond of him, we
all set to work and searched the house high and low, looking
into every corner and cranny, and calling, “Polly, Polly,”
everywhere. But no Polly answered our repeated cries, and no
Polly could we find. So at last my father left, as usual, to pay
his visit to our neighbors, leaving us still looking for our pet.
But what was his surprise upon turning the corner of the street
to see Polly quietly waddling down the middle of the road.

“Why, Polly,” said he, “ where are you going?”

Upon which Master Poll cocked his impudent little head on
one side, and looked up and said, “ Only going down to Tate's.”

How my father laughed when he brought him home perched
on his hand, for the curious thing was that Poll was actually
going in the direction of the Tates’ house, which made it all the
more amusing.

After that we took better care to shut his cage-door.
61
ANNA'S STAY AT THE SEASIDE.

















Ze
=

Ns



ANNA’S STAY AT THE SEASIDE.

NNA GRAY’S health was so poor one summer, that the
doctor said nothing but a few weeks at the seaside would
do her any good. So her father, Mr. Gray, found a
quiet place down by the sea, where he engaged board for
Anna and her mother. Anna was at first much pleased with
the excitement of travelling, but she was tired before she reached
her journey’s end, and her head ached from the jar and noise
of the cars. She was very glad to go to bed as soon as she had
eaten her supper, without taking even a look at the ocean.

But the next morning she went out with her mamma on the
sand. When she first caught sight of the immense stretch of
water, she felt very frightened. It seemed as if the great waves

would roll right upon her and crush her. But she soon found
62


LITTLE THINGS.

that after they had broken in a long white line of surf near the
shore, they came creeping harmlessly in until they at last gently
lapped the sand at her feet. Then she took off her shoes and
stockings and stood in the sand, and let the water come up around
her feet. Sometimes, when a bigger wave than usual came in,
she would have to seamper to get out of its way. ’

She saw presently that the water was gaining on her, and that
she had constantly to go backward to keep out of its reach.
She did not understand this, and asked her mother what it
meant. Her mother explained to her that it was the tide coming
in. She told her that for six hours the water would steadily
advance, until it would almost cover the sand where they were
standing. Then for six hours it would steadily go out until it
left it all bare. Then the water would again return and again
recede; and so it continued to do day after day and year after
year.

Then Anna made little holes in the sand, and watched to see
how long it would take the waves to creep up to them. She
enjoyed her morning on the sands very much, and as soon as
she began to feel tired she went in-doors.



LITTLE THINGS.




Wr PRINGS are little things, but they are sources of large
SS) streams; a helm is a little thing, but it governs the
=~ ‘ ' goles .
% course of a ship; a bridle-bit is a little thing, but see its
use and powers; nails and pegs are little things, but they
hold the parts of a large building together; a word, a look, a
smile, a frown, are all little things, but powerful for good or
evil, Think of this and mind the little things.

63
ROBIN AND ROSE.



—
fi =~ a

ROBIN AND ROSE.
OWN on the grass, where tall meadow-sweet grows,
Waved by the winds of the West,

Brave little Robin and dear little Rose,
Happy as birds in a nest,



Gather bright blossoms, and prattle away
Merrily one to another ;

No pair of linnets chirp brighter than they—
Loving sweet sister and brother!

Rosie’s straw hat is all garlanded round
With a delicious festoon ;

Chainwork of daisy-blooms, fresh from the ground ;
Ox-eyes as fair as the moon.

Wind-music seems to be floating along
Over the sister and brother,
Like this refrain of a beautiful song—

“ Little ones, love one another !””
64
MAKING SUNSHINE.

DEAR, it always does rain when I want to go anywhere !”
_} cried little Jennie Moore. “It’s too bad! Now I’ve
got to stay in-doors, and I know I shall have a
wretched day.”

“Perhaps so,” said Uncle Jack; “but you need not have a
wretched day unless you choose.”

“ How can I help it? I wanted to go to the park, and play
on the grass, and pull wild flowers; and now there is not going
to be any sunshine at all, and I shall have to stand here and
see it rain all day long.”

“ Well, let’s make a little sunshine,” said Uncle Jack. This
made Jennie smile through her tears, showing that Uncle Jack
had manufactured a few rays already. So Jennie agreed to be -
his partner in this new business, and went to work according to
these three rules:

First, Don’t think of what might have been if the day had
been better.

Second; See how many things there are left to enjoy.

And lastly, Do all you can to make other people happy.

Jennie began by amusing her little brother, who was crying.
By the time she had him riding a chair and laughing she was
laughing too. After that she found many a pleasant amuse-
ment, and when bed-time came she kissed her uncle good-night,
and was even far more happy than if she had spent the day in
playing on the grass and gathering wild flowers. But that was
not all. She dreamed that night that Uncle Jack had built a
great house, and put a sign over the door which read—

SUNSHINE FACTORY.
She made uncle laugh when she told her dream; but she never
forgot what you must remember : A cheerful heart makes its own

sunshine.
5 65


GOOSEY, GOOSEY, GANDER.





/

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YS



GOOSEY, GOOSEY, GANDER!

ILLIE, if you will sit right quietly here on this book,
| I will tell you the story that mamma read me last

night.”

The little boy promised to remain quiet, and Edith
commenced her story.

Once there was a little girl named Ellen. One day she
was playing in the garden, and a large gray goose walked up to
her.

“Where do you come from ?” said Ellen.

But the goose did not speak. It only stood still and looked
up in her face.

“Perhaps it is a fairy goose, and will lay golden eggs for
me,” thought Ellen. Then she spoke to the goose again, and
said,—

66
GOOSEY, GOOSEY, GANDER.

“ Goosey, goosey, gander,
Whither do you wander—
Up-stairs and down-stairs,

And in my lady’s chamber?
Goosey, goosey, nice ’twould be,
If you'd stay, and gold eggs lay
Every day for me.”

But the goose was silent, only it came and rubbed its head
against Ellen’s dress.

“What a tame goose you are!” said Ellen, stroking it. It
was, indeed, very tame, and it followed Ellen round the garden
and down to the river.

But when it saw the water, it stretched out its wings, and
said, “ Quack, quack !”

Then it plunged in and swam away. “ Goosey, Goosey, come
back!” shouted Ellen, as loud as she could.

But the goose did not turn its head; it went on swimming
away, till at last it was out of sight.

“Tt is going home,” said Ellen, sitting down; “perhaps to
fairyland.”

For she was still thinking about the wonderful goose she had
read about in “ Jack and the Beanstalk.”



67
THE LITTLE ARTIST.



THE LITTLE ARTIST.

j UST see, papa! Archie has made a man.”

Mr. Loring looked up from his newspaper, and out
through the window at which he was sitting to the fence
on which Archie had drawn a rude figure with a piece

of chalk.
“Why,so he has! Are you going to be an artist, my boy ?”
“Yes, papa; I mean to be an artist like Mr. Rowe, and
paint pictures.”
“Tt is not such an easy thing to be an artist as you think, my
boy,” said papa, “ but takes years of study and hard work.”
Little Flora looked at her brother and then at his drawing
on the fence in a proud way, and said, “ But still, papa, even

then ’tisn’t every one can be an artist.”
68


PAPA’S LONG STORY.

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PAPA’S LONG STORY.

R. CHARLTON was sitting alone in the study, when

L the door opened, and two little voices cried at once,
: “Papa, my dear papa! do tell us a story, and let it
be a good long story.”

“You want a long story, my little ones?” said Mr. Charlton,
with a smile: “well, listen, and I will give you one that will
occupy a long time in telling.”

“Oh, that will be famous!” exclaimed little Andrew; and
Gertrude seemed decidedly of the same opinion.

“Well, listen,” said papa, “for now our long story is going
to begin.”

But we must wait a moment, my dear little readers, before
we begin this famous story; for I have not told you that Mr.
Charlton had come home later than usual that evening, and
that it was very near the children’s bed-time, a fact which the
little rogues knew perfectly well. Now, their mamma was

always anxious that Andrew and Gertrude should go to bed in
69


PAPA'S LONG STORY.

proper time; for late hours are not healthy for little children,
who should remember the old proverb, “ Early to bed and early
to rise;’ so that the children were highly delighted, and
mamma was a little alarmed, when Mr. Charlton prepared to
begin his long story so late in the evening. Having given you
this piece of explanation, we will let papa tell his story for him-
self. He said,—

“Once upon a time there was a good careful shepherd. He
had begun with a very few sheep of his own; but now the flock
had increased, through his care and watchfulness, so that he
had nearly two hundred lambs, besides the old sheep. But be-
sides these sheep he had a pretty little daughter, of whom he
was exceedingly fond; and the little girl took greatly to the
lambs, especially to those that were weak and required care;
and the lambs, on their part, would follow her about every-
where, and seemed to thank her for the care and kindness she
showed to them.

“ Now, one day the shepherd, who had driven all the sheep
and lambs out into the meadow, determined to take them into a
new meadow where there was some fine fresh grass. But to
get to this meadow it was requisite to cross a swift and rapid
streamlet, and the only way across this streamlet was by a very
weak and narrow bridge, formed of a single plank. Now, the
shepherd feared that if he let his sheep and lambs crowd all
together on this bridge, it might break beneath their weight, or
that some of them, in their hurry to get across, might push
others over into the water. Therefore he called his little
daughter, and told her to cross the streamlet, and to coax one
lamb over after her; and when that was safe on the other side,
to return and call another, and so on, until all should have
crossed; but to be careful that only one lamb followed her
each time.

“ Now you can fancy how often the little maid would have to
70
THE COCK AND THE FOX.

recross the bridge before all the sheep followed her one by one
and were in safety in the opposite meadow ; and, indeed, it will
take such a long time that we must wait till to-morrow before
they have crossed—and you see what a long story this will make.
Therefore I propose that in the mean time you both go to bed.”

Here their papa paused, and Gertrude and Andrew both
looked a little foolish. But, as they went up-stairs, they de-
cided it would perhaps be better to wait for an evening when
papa came home early, before they asked him for a long
story again.







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THE COCK AND THE FOX.

CHE fox, passing early one summer’s morning near a farm-
A yard, was caught in a spring, which the farmer had
planted there for that end. The cock, at a distance, saw
what had happened ; and, hardly yet daring to trust him-

self too near so dangerous a foe, approached him cautiously, and
peeped at him, not without some horror and dread of mind.

71




POWER OF KINDNESS.

Reynard no sooner perceived it, but he addressed himself to him
with all the designing artifice imaginable. “ Dear cousin,” says
he, “ you see what an unfortunate accident has befallen me here,
and all upon your account; for, as I was creeping through yon-
der hedge in my way homeward, I heard you crow, and was
resolved to ask you how you did before I went any farther ; but
by the way I met with this disaster; and therefore now I must
become a humble suitor to you for a knife to cut this plaguy
string, or, at least, that you would conceal my misfortune till I
have gnawed it asunder with my teeth.” The cock seeing how
the case stood, made no reply, but posted away as fast as he
could, and gave the farmer an account of the whole matter; who,
taking a good weapon along with him, came and did the fox’s
business before he could have time to contrive his escape.

There is no greater error than to bestow sympathy and aid
on undeserving subjects.

POWER OF KINDNESS.

POOR woman used to give an elephant, who often passed

_her stall in the market, a handful of greens, of which

2 he was very fond. One day he was in a great fury, and
broke away from his keeper, and came raging down the
market-place. Every one.fled, and in her haste the market-
woman forgot her little child. But the furious elephant, instead
of trampling it to death, picked it up tenderly and laid it on
one side in a place of safety. Do you think she was sorry she
gave him his handful of greens as he went by? No. We

never lose by a kind action, no matter to whom it is done.
72
THE WOLF.





THE WOLF.

CMHERE once lived, in a small log cabin among the west-
All ern wilds, two little children named Eddie and Nelly

Grey. ‘They: were very pretty children. Nelly was ten

years old, and had beautiful golden curls and blue eyes;
and Eddie was eight, and the color of his eyes and hair was
brown. ‘They were very good children, too, and always obeyed
their parents; and in so doing, as you will see by my story,
their lives were one day saved.

Mr. Grey and his wife were one day compelled to ride over to
the nearest settlement, a little town about ten miles away, to
attend to some law business, about a claim to their land. They
had never left the children alone before; but it was necessary
that they should do so on that day ; and so, after many repeated
charges to Nelly and Eddie to keep the door fast, and on no
account to leave the house, they rode away on their great black

horse.
73
THE WOLF. —

After Nelly and Eddie had watched their father and mother
out of sight, and seen that the cabin windows and doors were all
fast, they went to their play.

But Eddie soon tired of his blocks and top, and came
running to his sister.

“Nelly,” he said, “I’m tired of building block-houses in
here, and want to run out-doors and play. Do you think
mamma would care much if I went out a little while?”

Nelly replied, “Oh, Eddie, you mustn’t go! You know we
promised mamma and papa not to leave the house, and it would
be wrong.”

“Qh, sister, the sun is shining so bright, and the flowers look
so pretty.”

But his sister had not time to reply again, for Eddie’s eyes,
turned toward the window, had caught sight of other objects
than flowers; and with a pale, terrified face, and eyes dilating
with horror, his voice sank away to a faint whisper, as he
gasped out,—

“Oh, Nelly! look! look!”

The girl did look toward the window, and saw there a pair
of large, fierce eyes pressed close against the pane, and a long
sharp nose and pointed ears, that told who was the visitor.

“A wolf!” cried Eddie, shuddering and drawing close to his
sister, who was as pale as he, but had more presence of mind;
for in an instant she sprang up and ran and drew the thick
oaken shutters over the window and fastened them; then she
ran to the door to see if that was barred; and then went to the
one other room of the cabin, and made the window fast in the
same way ; Eddie keeping close to her all the time.

After Nelly had closed the shutters, the room was quite dark ;
so she lighted a candle and put it upon a stand in the centre of
the room, and then sat down by it, with Eddie in her arms.

But they did not sit there long in silence, for soon they heard
74
A KISS, NOT A BLOW.

the wolf leap against the window; and then they heard fierce
howls beyond, at first in the distance, and then coming nearer,
till many feet tramped about the house.

Nelly got up and pushed a table against the outer door,
which was of strong oak and fastened with a heavy bar; then
she said to her brother, encouragingly,—

“Don’t be afraid, Eddie; the wolves can’t get in, and father
and mother will be here soon.”

But the feet seemed to be multiplied; the howls and fierce
yells came louder and faster ; and the whole woods seemed alive
with the horrid pack. The two children cowered down in
the centre of the room in mute terror. For nearly an hour
this dreadful concert lasted; and then, just as Nelly and Eddie
thought they couldn’t bear it any longer, they heard the tramp-
ing of horses’ feet on the prairie ground, and the sound of rifle-
shots, and then the yells of the wolves grew fainter and died
away.

In a few moments more, their parents’ voices fell upon their
ears, and the children sprang to the door and drew back the
bolt, to be clasped in their arms.



A KISS, NOT A BLOW.
i STRIKE ’oo,” cried a little boy in a sharp tone to his

sister.
“T kiss oo,” said his sister, stretching out her arms and
putting up her rosy lips in a sweet kiss.

Tommy looked a look of wonder. Did his little ears hear
right? They did, for there was a kiss on Susy’s lips. A smile
broke over his angry face, like sunshine on a dark cloud.

“T kiss ’oo,” he said; and the little brother and sister hugged
and kissed each other right heartily. A kiss for a blow is better

than tit for tat, isn’t it ?
75
THE STRAY CHICKS.

























































































































































































THE STRAY CHICKS.

OOD morning, pretty hen!

' How many chickens have you got,

¢ Madam? I’ve got ten;

Three of them are yellow,

And three of them are brown,

And four of them are black and white,
The nicest in the town.”




That is what the old hen might have sung on other mornings
when Mary came out to feed her and her brood, but this morn-
ing four chicks had gone astray: two of the speckles and one
of the browns, and Tiny, the little yellow chick, had travelled

off into the clover. They were rather small to hunt insects for
76
THE STRAY CHICKS.

themselves, and their mother had called and called to them to
come back. But they were like some children. They kept
right on, and pretended they never heard. Of course their poor
mother could not get out to attend to them, so she was in a great
worry when Mary came. When Mary sprinkled the corn for
the rest, she clucked the loudest, as if to inform her of her
loss.

“What shall we do about them, mother?” asked Mary, much
disturbed. “The hawks will surely get them; or they will get
lost in the tall clover, and never get back.”

“Tt is as bad to them as a great wood would be to me,” said
Mary.

“They will come trotting back after a while,” said mother.
“They will hear the hen’s call, and will follow the sound, and
be glad enough to snuggle down under her wing.”

That day the hawk went swooping down over the fields, flying
very low; and such a commotion as it made in the poultry-yard!
The little lost chicks knew by some means that it was an enemy,
and cried piteously and fought blindly about in the tall clover-
tufts in their frantic efforts to get out. But it is much easier
getting into mischief than getting out. They made such a noise,
it is a dozen chances to one but the hawk would have had
chicken-pie for his dinner, if faithful Mary had not gone in
search of and brought them safe back.



Lirrte Sunsuine.—Who is Little Sunshine? The child
who does not pout, or frown, or say cross words, but who goes
about the house laughing, smiling, singing, saying kind words
and doing kind deeds—that child is Little Sunshine. Does
anybody know Little Sunshine? Where does Little Sunshine
live?

77
MY SISTER.



MY SISTER.

HAD a little sister once,
And she was wondrous fair ;
Like twined links of yellow gold
Was the waving of her hair.

Her face was like a day in June,
When all is sweet and still,

And the shadows of the summer clouds
Crept softly o’er the hill.

O! my sister’s voice—I hear it yet;
It comes upon mine ear

Like the singing of a joyous bird,
When the summer months are near.

Sometimes the notes would rise at eve
So fairy-like and wild,
My mother thought a spirit sang,

And not the gentle child.
78
MY SISTER.

And oh! like them, as they come in the spring
And with summer’s fate decay,

She passed with the sun’s last parting smile
From life’s rough path away.

And when she died—neath an old oak-tree
My sister’s grave was made;

For, when on earth, she used to love
Its dark and pensive shade.

And, every spring, in that old tree
The song-birds build their nests,

And wild flowers bloom on the soft green turf
Where my dear sister rests:

And the children of our village say,
That on my sister’s tomb

The wild flowers are the last that fade,
And the first that ever bloom.

She was too pure for earthly love—
Strength to our hearts was given,

And we yielded her, in her childhood’s light,
To a brighter home in heaven.



79
THE SAILOR AND THE LION.







THE SAILOR AND THE LION.
CHE lion is strong and cruel, yet he will become attached

AI to those who treat him kindly. A story is told of one
who was brought from India, and who on the passage
grew very fond of a sailor who had charge of him. His

name was “ Nero.” On being shut up in a cage in London, he

grew sulky and was very fierce when any one came near him,
so that it was dangerous even for his keeper to approach him.

One day, a few weeks after Nero had been shut up in his
new prison, a party of sailors visited the menagerie, and were
warned by the keeper not to go too near the lion, who every
now and then turned and growled savagely at those who were
looking at him. All at once one of these sailors ran up to the
cage, and, thrusting his hand in, cried out,—

“What! old shipmate! don’t you know me? What cheer,
old Nero, my lad ?”



80
SEE, THE STARS ARE COMING.

The lion instantly left off feeding and growling, sprang up on
the bars of the cage and put out his nose between them. Jack
patted him on the head, and the lion rubbed his hand with his
whiskers like a cat, showing evident signs of pleasure.

“Ah!” said Jack, turning to the keeper and spectators, who
stood frightened and in astonishment, “ Nero and I were once
shipmates, and you see he isn’t like some folks: he don’t forget
old friends.” ;

SEE, THE STARS ARE COMING.




EE, the stars are coming

SS a:

SS In the fair blue skies !

Mother, look ! they brighten :
Are they angels’ eyes?”

“No, my child, the splendor
Of those stars is given,

Like the hues of flowers,
By the Lord of heaven.”

“ Mother, if I study,
Sure he’ll let me know
Why those stars are lighted
O’er our earth to glow ?”

“Child, what God has finished
Hath a glorious aim ;
Thine it is to worship,

Thine to love his name.”
6 81




























































































AMY.

MY sits by the open window watching the little stars peep
out of the summer sky. She has finished her task, and
now waits to hear mamma’s cheerful voice calling her
to her tea. Amy is a good child, and has put her hat

and book on the table, instead of leaving them on the floor as
some children do.

“ Amy,” said her mother, coming into the room.

She started, and then said, “Oh, mother! Come and see!
Isn’t it lovely ?”

“What are you looking at, dear?” asked Mrs. Grove, as she

sat down by her side and drew an arm around her.
82
AMY.

‘« At the moon and stars, and the lake, away off by the hill.
See what a great road of light lies across the water. Isn’t it
beautiful, mother? And it makes me feel so quiet and happy.
I wonder why it is?”

“Shall I tell you the reason ?”

“Oh, yes, mother dear! What is the reason ?”

“ God made everything that is good and beautiful.”

“Oh, yes, I know that.”

“Good and beautiful for the sake of man; because man is
the highest thing of creation and nearest to God. All things
below him were created for his good. That is, God made them
for him to use in sustaining the life of his body or the life of
his soul.”

“T don’t see what use I can make of the moon and stars,”
said Amy.

“ And yet,” answered her mother, “you said only a minute
ago that the beauty of this moonlight evening made you feel
so quiet and happy.”

“Oh, yes. That is so; I see now how it is.”

“ Besides,” said the mother, “ let me remind you that the moon
and stars give us light by night, and that, if you happened to
be away at a neighbor's after the sun went down, they would be
of great use in showing you the path homeward.”



+ —____—_

’Tis religion that can give
Sweetest pleasures while we live;
’Tis religion can supply

Solid comforts when we die.

IB

Zr db SW. a

88
SONG FOR THE LITTLE ONES.

HE little birds fill all the air with their glee,

Yet they’ve not half as much to be glad of as we:
So with thrushes and blackbirds we'll joyfully sing
All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.



The grasshopper chirps in the long summer grass,

The frisking lambs bleat in the fields as we pass:

So with wee things and young things we'll joyfully sing
All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.

The river shouts glad as it dances along ;

The little stream murmurs a sweet quiet song:
So with rivers and streamlets we'll joyfully sing
All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.

The breezes sing soft ’mid the green leaves of June,
E’en the hoarse wintry wind tries to whistle a tune:
So with soft winds and strong winds we'll joyfully sing
All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.

Pleasant songs at his work hums the blithe, busy bee,
And we'll not be less blithe or less busy than he:

So with all busy creatures we'll joyfully sing

All thanks to our Father, all praise to our King.

Thus God gives a measure of gladness to all,
And a share of his praises to great and to small:
So we who owe most will most thankfully sing,

And our voices, though weak, to his footstool shall ring.
84
THE YOUNG ROBINS.



THE YOUNG ROBINS.

NE day the sun was warm and bright,
And shining in the sky ;
A robin said, “ My little dears,
Tis time you learn to fly ;”
And all the little young ones said,
oT Uhtey 1 lity, Vlory.”



I know a child, and who she is
Tl tell you by and by,
When mamma says, “ Do this,” or “ that,”
She says, “ What for?” and “ Why ?”
She’d be a better child by far,
If she would say, “I'll try.”

My bairnies dear, when you go out
With other bairns to play,
Take heed of everything you do,
Of every word you say ;
From tricky, wee, mischievous loons
Keep back, my bairns, keep back ;
And aye to all such usage give
As you would like to take.

85
ON THE SAND-BAR.





ON THE SAND-BAR.

H, dear! But we’re having real splendid times!”

The person who said this was a very little girl, and
her name was Kitty Fisher. When she said it she was
sitting on a heap of fine white sand which she had

scraped together with her hands, and her lap was full of sand,
and she had sprinkled some on her hat and it had fallen down
into the soft flaxen hair which nurse had crimped with great
care that very morning, and she had pushed her tiny slippers
into it until they were now packed pretty full with the plump
little feet and the sand which had sifted in all around them;
for she said she was playing she was an ant, and that was the
way ants made their sand-houses and lived in them.

She said to herself that she believed they ate sand too, and
so she put a little into her own red-lipped, rosy mouth, but it
tasted dry and hot, so that she soon spit it out again. ‘You see
she was not a very wise little Kitty ; but then aha wasn’t very

old yet, scarcely five in fact, and didn’t know much about ants
86


ON THE SAND-BAR.

except as she had seen them in the early summer mornings
running about with bits of gravel in their mouths, building their
dirt-houses on the stone walks around her father’s house.

“Oh, Mattie! Fred! come see me. I’m an ant, and I live
in a sand-house on a little bit of island. Oh, ain’t we having
real splendid times !”

By this time Mattie’s house was completed, and she started
to come toward her little sister. What was her surprise to find
she could not reach her, for while they had all been so busy at
their play, the water had been flowing in over the beach, and
though not very deep, still it had come all around the place
where Kitty was sitting, so that she was indeed, as she had said,
“on a little bit of island.”

What to do Mattie didn’t know, so she called to Fred as
loudly as she could,—

“Oh, Fred! Fred! I can’t reach Kitty. Come and help me
over!” Her frightened tones attracted the boy’s attention, and
he came running at once to the spot.

“The tide’s coming in, and we must go home right away,” he
said. Then he waded over to Kitty’s island and brought her
away, and began to look about to see what he should do next.
Taking a good look around, he saw they were in great danger.
They had been playing on a bar or ridge of sand, which was
higher than the rest of the beach, and while they had been so
busy at their sports, the water had flowed in and around and
behind them, cutting them off entirely from the shore.

I think Fred would have liked very much to cry when he
found this out. His under lip did quiver a little, but he was a
brave boy at heart, and a very sensible boy he proved himself
on this occasion also.

At the end of the bar was a ledge of rocks, and since they
could not reach the land, Fred knew they would be safer on

this than in the place where they now were, for the water was
87
DON’T LAG.

coming nearer and nearer, and getting deeper every moment.
They had to wade some in order to gain the rocks, and Mattie’s
polished boots got a good soaking up as high as her ankles.
Fred carried Kitty in his arms and placed her where she would
not be in danger.



DON’T LAG.
ae ’"T lag, Johnnie,” said a little boy’s mother; “ but go

straight to school.”

“Yes, mother; I will,’ said Johnnie; and off he
trudged.

When he passed Mr. Wheeler’s barn, a robin redbreast flew
out of the woods, perched on the nearest bough, and began to
sing, just as if he were singing to Johnnie, and to nobody else.
Was it singing, “Stop, Johnnie, stop,” or “Go, Johnnie, go?”
The little boy loved birds, and redbreast was so near.

“Tt is singing ‘go’ or ‘stay,’ just according to my think,”
said Johnnie. ‘“I think it says ‘ Go, and I shall go.”

So Johnnie, in spite of all the pleasant things which tempt a
little boy to lag behind school-time on a sweet summer morning,
went straight to school, and was in his seat when the mistress
rang the opening bell.

Johnnie was right. A great many things have a meaning to
us according as we think. To the little boy who said it was too
pleasant to go to school, and so played truant, redbreast’s notes
would have been “Stay, stay ;” “Stop, stop;” for he did not
love his books, and wanted an excuse for neglecting them.

All along the way, children, there are pleasant voices which
will lead you astray, or forward you in the path of duty, accord-
ing to the chord which they find in you. The key-note is in
your own bosom. Pitch it right—pitch it for the right, and
then your life will be a pleasant tune, sweet to father and
mother.

mm

88
PRAYER.



PRAYER.

RANDPAPA is teaching Freddy to say this sweet little
prayer :



I thank Thee, Lord, for quiet rest,
And for Thy care of me;

Oh, let me through this day be blest,
And kept from harm by Thee!

Oh, let me love Thee! kind Thou art
To children such as I;

Give me a gentle, holy heart,
Be Thou my friend on high.

89
OLD KITTEN-CAT.





OLD KITTEN-CAT.

ae
©



ITTLE readers, if you will allow me, I wish to introduce
to you old Kitten-Cat. I would like to have you all
come to my house and see her, but as that is impossible,
I will show you her picture.

If the artist does her justice, I am sure you will pronounce
her to be the handsomest cat to be found anywhere, except at
your house. And that is all I expect, for children who own
pussies have the same right to think them prettier than all
others, that each mother has to think her own baby the smartest,
and every crow to believe its own young ones the blackest.
You must imagine that part of the spots on her back are bright

yellow, though they all look black in the picture.
90
OLD KITTEN-CAT.

I don’t just know how it was she got the name of Kitten-Cat,
but I have sometimes thought it might have been in this way.
Although she is a very large cat, and as much as five years
old,—which is quite middle-aged for cats, you know, though
not very old for some other kitties,—she sometimes romps and
plays and shows no more dignity than the wildest mad-cap of a
three months old kitten, if you push your finger at her or roll
a ball across the room. I may be mistaken, but I think this is
something very unusual for a cat of mature years, and that her
former mistress noticing it, called her Kitten-Cat.

For old Kitten-Cat hasn’t always been our cat, but was ieft
at our house by the last people who lived here before us. For
a long time we didn’t want her to stay. In fact, neither Uncle
John nor I ever did like cats, and we told her so, plainly, dozens
of times, when she jumped into our laps, and rubbed her head
against our shoulders. But it was of no use. She would look
straight into our faces with her round, innocent eyes full of a
sort ae grieved and astonished expression, and say, just as plainly
as ever a cat said anything,—

“Yes, know Iamacat. IfI had my choice I don’t know
that I would be one. But as it is, I always mean to be an ex-
cellent cat, and do my best to please folks. I think I would
rather be a dog, or a horse, or a nice little girl. Please to love
me, and let me have as good a life as a cat can have!”

And she really is just as good as she can be and be a cat, and
could only be improved by promoting her to a higher sphere.
We are not at all sure that as much could be said of us, so we
concluded not to be cross to her, and she soon understood that
we had adopted her.

She can do some things which we think quite wonderful.
She opens all the doors that have only a latch to fasten them,
and has two or three times been seen up in a chair, pawing at

and carefully studying the construction of the knobs and spring-
91
HYMN FOR A LITTLE CHILD.

locks of the other doors. If she gets shut into the parlor, and
the piano is open, she walks back and forth on it till somebody —
hears the music and comes to let her out. She never gets on
the piano at any other time. And when she is thirsty, she tries
to turn the water-faucets in the kitchen sink.

A little while ago she had three beautiful kittens. Two of
them were just alike, with black ears, tails, and backs, and
white breasts, paws, and noses. The other one was yellow, with
white neckerchief and mittens on.



HYMN FOR A LITTLE CHILD.

OD, make my life a little light,
Within the world to glow ;
A little flame that burneth bright
Wherever I may go.



God, make my life a little flower,
That giveth joy to all,

Content to bloom in native bower,
Although its place be small.

God, make my life a little song,
That comforteth the sad;

That helpeth others to be strong,
And makes the singer glad.

God, make my life a little hymn
Of tenderness and praise ;
Of faith—that never waxeth dim

In all His wondrous ways.
92
THE EIDER DUCK.



THE EIDER DUCK.

in Iceland and Norway, and other cold countries—lives
| this bird, so noted for the soft down it gives us; and

there it lays its eggs and hatches out its young. You
see, in the picture, a mother-bird, taking her ducklings into the
chilly waters, from which the brief northern summer has melted
off the ice. She is going to feed them on the shell-fish and sea
urchins that she can pick up from the edges of the rocks and in
shallow places.

You think they must be very cold.

The eider ducks build their nests of fine weeds and mosses
on the ground or among rocks, wherever they can find a little
hollow; and these nests are often so close together, that a man

can hardly walk among them without stepping on the eggs.
93

PAR away in the icy north—in Labrador and Greenland,
dl

\
THE EIDER DUCK.

The breasts of these birds are covered thickly with the softest
down, and as soon as they have laid their eggs, they pluck
enough of this down to cover them warmly, for there is not
sufficient heat in their bodies to hatch the eggs without help
from the down ; and besides they have to leave their nests some-
times to get food, and then if it was not for the covering of down,
the eggs would be frozen.

The people who live away in the far northern countries,
where these ducks make their nests and hatch their young,
know about these down-covered eggs, and, as soon as they find
them well wrapped up, take away both the eggs and the down.
Then the mother-bird lays another nestful of eggs, and a
second time strips the down from her breast to cover them and
keep them warm. A second time the eggs and down are taken
away. Poor bird! Still she is not discouraged, and lays a
third nestful of eggs; but she has no more down with which
to protect them from the cold. What is to be done? Will the
eggs be frozen? Not so; for now the male bird comes and
plucks the downy treasures from his breast and lays them over
the eggs! This time the down-gatherers leave the nest un-
harmed, so that a brood of ducks may be hatched that will lay
egos and supply down another year.



Beware of evil thoughts. They have done great harm in
the world. Bad thoughts come first, bad words follow, and bad
déeds finish the progress. Watch against them, strive against
them, pray against them.

“Bad Thought’s a thief: he acts his part:
Creeps through the windows of the heart ;
And if he once his way can win,

He'll let a hundred robbers in.”
94
THE FOX AND THE TIGER.



THE FOX AND THE TICER.

SKILFUL archer, coming into the woods, directed his
arrows so successfully that he slew many wild beasts,
and pursued several others. This put the whole savage
kind into a fearful consternation, and made them fly to

the most retired thickets for refuge. At last the tiger regained
courage, and bidding them not be afraid, said that he alone
would engage the enemy ; telling them they might depend upon
his valor and strength to revenge their wrongs. In the midst
of these threats, while he was lashing himself with his tail and
tearing up the ground for anger, an arrow pierced his ribs, and
hung by its barbed point in his side. He set up a hideous and
loud roar, occasioned by the anguish which he felt, and endeay-
ored to draw out the painful dart with his teeth; when the fox
approaching him, inquired, with an air of surprise, who it was
that could have strength and courage enough to wound so mighty
and valorous a beast. “ Ah!” says the tiger, “I was mistaken
in my reckoning: it was that invincible man yonder.”
Strength and courage, when through want of wisdom they are
misdirected, are less powerful than prudent forethought.
95
ANNA'S RESOLUTION.



ELL, now I'll sit down, and I’ll work very fast,
And try if I can’t be a good girl at last ;
Tis better than being so sulky and haughty,
I’m really quite tired of being so naughty.



For, as mamma says, when my business is done,
There’s plenty of time left to play and to run;
But when ’tis my work-time, I ought to sit still;
And I know that I ought, so I certainly will.



A pErson good at making excuses is seldom good for any-

thing else.
96
THE FOX WITHOUT A TAIL.



THE FOX WITHOUT A TAIL.

FOX being caught in a steel-trap by his tail, was glad
to compound for his escape with the loss of it; but, upon
coming abroad into the world, began to be so sensible of
the disgrace such a defect would bring upon him, that

he almost wished he had died rather than left it behind him.

However, to make the best of a bad matter, he formed a project

in his head to call an assembly of the rest of the foxes, and pro-

pose it for their imitation as a fashion which would be very
agreeable and becoming. He did so, and made a long harangue
upon the unprofitableness of tails in general, and endeavored
chiefly to show the awkwardness and inconvenience of a fox’s
tail in particular ; adding, that it would both be more graceful
and more expeditious to be altogether without them; and that,
for his part, what he had only imagined and conjectured before,
he now found by experience, for that he never enjoyed himself
so well, and found himself so easy, as he had done since he cut
off his tail. He said no more, but looked about with a brisk
air to see what proselytes he had gained; when a sly old thief

in the company, who understood traps, answered. him: with a
7 97


THE ANTS.

leer, “ I believe you may have found it convenient to part with
your tail, and when we are in the same circumstances, perhaps
we may do so too.”

Lvil-doers will always try to lessen their disgrace, by making
others like themselves.



THE ANTS.

~ LITTLE black ant found a large grain of wheat,
A Too heavy to lift or to roll;
|“ So he begged of a neighbor he happened to meet,
To help it down into his hole.

“Tve got my own work to look after,” said he;
“You must shift for yourself, if you please ;”

So he crawled off as selfish and cross as could be,
And lay dewn to sleep at his ease.

Just then a black brother was passing the road,
And, seeing his brother in want,

Came up and assisted him in with his load,
For he was a good-natured ant.

Let all who this story may happen to hear
Endeavor to profit by it;

For often it happens that children appear
As cross as the ant, every bit.

And the good-natured ant who assisted his brother
May teach those who choose to be taught,
That if little insects are kind to each other,

Then children most certainly ought.
98
THE SICK KITTEN.























































THE SICK KITTEN.
[+ ETTIE had a large family of dogs and kittens. There



was Frisk, the mother terrier, with a red cord and tassels
around her neck. Frisk was so small and so shaggy
any little child who did not know her, and had seen her
curled up on the carpet, would have been sure she was a dust-
brush but for two very bright eyes looking out from under that
heap of hair. Brisk was the new puppy Nettie had told Robbie
about, as funny a little fellow as ever girl or boy was fortunate
enough to have for a playmate.

Then there was Nannie, the big cat, and three of the cutest
99
THE SICK KITTEN.

kittens anybody ever laid eyes on. Two as white as Nettie’s
ermine muff, with black tufts here and there, just as that had;
these were named Muffet and Tuffet, while a third, a soft, warm
gray, like its mother, was named for Robbie.

Such frolics as they had together, too—Nettie, Frisk, Brisk,
Nannie, and the kittens.

But one morning she went down into the dining-room and
saw them just as you see them in the picture there—Muffet’s
round ball of a head pillowed on Frisk’s fore paw, Kitty Robbic
cuddled up close behind them. Brisk, with his bright eyes very
wide open and fixed on Nettie, rested his pink nose on Muffet’s
back, while tiny Tippet, very wide awake too, nestled as near to
the group as it was possible to get. Nannie, looking as though
she had been up all night, was taking a good stretch with her
claws in the window-curtain. What did it mean ?

“Muffet is sick this morning,” said Nettie’s father, in reply
to the wondering looks of his little girl. “TI can’t get the pat
of a paw from either Tuffet or Kitty Robbie, nor the wag of a
tail from Frisk or Brisk.”

No, nor could Nettie, although she tried her best to coax them
into a frolic. Not one of them would leave Muffet, who was
very sick indeed, yet seemed to take great comfort in seeing
them around her, and to feel better with her little drooping head
on Frisk’s paw.



Promprep By Love.—One morning found little Dora busy
at the ironing-table, smoothing the towels and stockings.

“Tsn’t that hard work for the little arms ?” I asked.

A look like sunshine came into her face as she glanced toward
her mother, who was rocking the baby.

“Tt isn’t hard work when I do it for mamma,” she said, softly.
100
ow

J

THE COW.





































































































































































































































































































































THE COW.

HANK you, pretty cow, that made
, Pleasant milk to soak my bread ;

Every morning, every night,

Fresh and warm, and sweet and white.
Do not chew the hemlock rank,
Growing on the weedy bank ;

But the yellow cowslips eat,

They will make it very sweet.



THrovuGH all the busy daylight,
Through all the quiet night—
Whether the stars are in the sky,
Or the sun is shining bright—
In the nursery, in the parlor,
In the street, or on the stair—
Though I may seem to be alone,

Yet God is always there.
101


A CHILD’S FANCY.

\ H, mother,” said little Bennie,




dq “T mean to, if I can,
~~ Some beautiful night before Christmas,
When I am a grown-up man,

“Go sailing, sailing up to the sky,
For I'll own a grand balloon,
And ask of the kindliest angel,

‘ Please give me a worn-out moon!’

“Then Pll walk with the angel-children
In the starry gardens bright.
Stars are their flowers; I'll ask for some
Just budding into light.

“The lovely one will hand me a moon
From off the cloudy bars,
And the angel-children joyously pluck

A cluster of wakening stars.

“ And when I come back, O mother,
You will wonder so to see
The sheeny moon and the shining stars

That the bright ones gave to me.
102
PRIDE.

“Then the moon high o’er the Christmas-tree
Its chastened light shall spread,

And a little star from every bough
Its twinkling beams shall shed.

“We'll call a crowd of children then
To come and feast their eyes

On the glorious things, the while I tell
Of my journey to the skies.

“ But I'll say, These stars are less bright than heaven’s,
Because they were plucked too soon,

And you scarce would guess of the glory there
By this pale worn-out moon.

“ And while they are gazing I’ll whisper to you
The way to the shining shore:

The balloon will hold two; we both will go,
And never come back any more.”



PRIDE.

OW proud we are, how fond to show
Our clothes, and call them rich and new,
When the poor sheep and silk-worm wore
The very clothing long before!



The tulip and the butterfly
Appear in gayer coats than I;
Let me be dressed fine as I will,

Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still.
103
THE DEAD ROBIN.

Ne
Ni
N
ING

57//



THE DEAD ROBIN.

her playthings and started up, with her ear bent toward
the door.
“Tt is a dear robin redbreast,” replied the child’s
mother. “ How sweetly he sings !”
“Robin redbreast, that covered the poor babes in the woods
with leaves ?” asked Harry, the younger brother of Anna.
“Yes, it is robin redbreast that covered the poor little babes,”
said the mother.
“Dear robin! how I love you!” said each of the children,
speaking from the same impulse of tenderness. And then they

went to the door to listen to his pleasant song. While they thus
104

4 ARK ! what is that?” said little Anna, as she dropped
THE DEAD ROBIN.

stood listening, the air was suddenly rent by the sharp report of
a gun, and in a few moments afterwards the dear robin red-
breast fell dead almost at the children’s feet. Lifting the
bleeding bird in her hands, Anna brought it with tearful eyes
to her mother, and Harry came and stood by her side, both
mourning and weeping for the dead robin as sorrowfully as if it
had been a dear friend. Little did they think that the hand
which directed the fatal aim toward that innocent creature was
their father. He, too, had heard the sudden warbling of the
bird, but with what a different feeling was he inspired by the
sound! The desire to take its innocent life was the first im-
pulse, and acting from this he seized his gun, and, taking a
deadly aim, bereft it in an instant of life. As the bird fell he
saw his children run and lift it from the ground, but they did
not see him. In a little while afterward, he came into the room
where they were still mourning over the wreck of life and
beauty that he had so wantonly made.

“Oh, papa,” cried Anna, “see this poor robin redbreast that
some cruel man has shot !”

“Yes, dear robin redbreast!” sobbed little Harry, “ that
covered the poor babes in the woods with leaves. Oh, wasn’t
he a naughty, wicked man ?”

Never had the father of these children received so smarting
a rebuke as this. Not for any consideration would he have
let them know that he was the cruel man they so earnestly
condemned.

“Yes,” he replied, in a spirit of self-condemnation, “it was
wrong to kill this innocent bird, that never did harm to any
one.”

“Tt was very cruel,” murmured the sympathizing mother,
upon whose lap was sleeping a tender infant.

The father remained for a few minutes with his children and

then left the room; the sight of the dead bird and their sad
105
A KIND WORD SOMETIMES.

little faces was more than he could bear without too great a
pressure on his feelings.

“Yes, it was a cruel act,” said he to himself, “ but I will not
again lift my hand against the life of an innocent bird. My
pleasure shall never give pain to any of God’s creatures.”

And he has kept his word.



A KIND WORD SOMETIMES.

“LITTLE boy fell into the water, and would have been
\ drowned if a man who was near by had not run quickly
to the spot and pulled him out.
“What can I do for you, my poor child?” asked the
man, looking with pity on the wet and shivering lad.

“Speak a kind word to me sometimes,” answered the boy, as
tears sprung to his eyes. “I haven’t any mother, like some
of them.”

Dear children who have pleasant homes and mothers to care
for and love you, are there any little boys and girls among your
playmates who have no mother? If so, be very kind to them.
Their hearts are often hungry for the love you have in such
abundance. Think of this lad, who might have asked money,
or clothes, or playthings, but who craved love so much more
than these that he said only, “Speak a kind word to me
sometimes.”

<0 ____—_

Wuen the angel of kindness enters a heart where it can
take up its abode, it looks through the eyes of the man, and
speaks with his voice, and moves with his motions, and guides
his hands and his feet, and stretches out his arms to clasp the
whole world in charity’s warm embrace; and this, every day

of his life and every hour of his day.
106
THE SPIDER-WEB.





THE SPIDER-WEB.

HAT a beautiful morning!” said little Susie Ellis.
“ Just hear the birds and see the leaves dance in the
sun, as if they were as happy as we are!”

. “ Everything looks glad and bright when we have

happy hearts ourselves,” said mamma, kissing her lifted face;

“but it is time to dress now, and after breakfast you can go

down to the garden with me for berries, and then you will hear

music, for the grape-arbor is full of birds.”

Susie got up quickly, bathed her face and hands in the bowl
of clear, cool water mamma had poured out, brushed her hair
back ready for mamma to roll over her finger, for the golden
hair would curl, and Susie could not arrange it herself; then
she dressed herself neatly, and taking the white spread and
snowy sheets from the little bed, put them carefully over the
107
EVENING PRAYER.

chair, and then ran down to meet her father, who was out on
the stone walk in front of the house.

“‘Good-morning, dear papa ;” and she put up her lips for the
kiss she never failed to receive night or morning.

‘“Good-morning, Susie ;” and the little hand slid softly into
his as he continued his walk.

As they came to the corner of the house, Mr. Ellis stopped
before a bush full of great clusters of roses, and said,—

“What do you see there, Susie ?”

“Roses, papa, and green leaves, and,” looking carefully,
“some black ants on that brown stem.”

“ Look a little lower now.”

“Oh, now I see! It is a spider’s web, and all full ef drops
that look like the diamonds in mamma’s ring !”

“Those are dewdrops, darling; but they are scarcely more
beautiful in my eyes than the web itself.”

Susie began to examine it more closely.

“See how perfectly it is woven; not one thread out of place.
It is much finer than the most delicate lace, and woven, too,
without a loom.”

“ And there is the old spider in the middle of the web.”

“Yes; her work is done now, and she is waiting for some
poor fly on which to make her morning meal.”

EVENING PRAYER.
4A EAVENLY Father! through the night
g)

y Keep us safe from every ill:
) Cheerful as the morning light,

May we wake to do thy will.
108



i
WHO FEEDS THE BIRDS?





WHO FEEDS THE BIRDS?

HO feeds the birds, mamma ?” asked little Lottie, as,
looking from the window, she saw a lonely robin sitting
on the limb of a cherry-tree from which all the frost-
touched leaves had fallen.

“ God feeds them,” answered the mother.

“ How does he do it, mamma? He doesn’t hold out his
hand with something to eat in it, nor set a table for them.”

“No, dear; nor does he hold out his hand with something to
eat in it, or set a table, for us. And yet he feeds every living
soul.”

“ How does God feed us, mamma, ?”

“He causes the wheat and corn to grow, and from them we
make bread. Everything we eat and drink is really given by
his loving and careful hand. There is not a blade cf grass, a
leaf, a flower, a grain of seed, or anything that lives or grows,
that is not made by him.”

“Isn’t he good, mamma ?”

“Oh, yes; he is very good, feeding us and caring for us, even
though we are too often unthankful and disobedient.”

“ But how are the birds fed, mamma? Poor robin out there
on the cherry-tree, how is he going to get his dinner? I don’t
see anything for him to eat.”

“God never makes any bird or beast, my Lottie, without
109


WHO FEEDS THE BIRDS?

making his food also. And each one knows where to find it.
See! robin has flown off to that small clump of bushes. There
are dried berries there, and he’ll make a good dinner, you may
be sure.”

“ And did he know he would find berries there ?”

“Oh, yes.”

“T wonder how he knew ?” said Lottie. “ His eyes are little,
and I don’t believe he can see far.”

“Maybe not, darling. But, for all that, robin is pretty sure
to find his dinner every day, and a good supper also before
going to bed at night. He who made him will feed him.”

“T’m so glad,” said Lottie. ‘“ And he feeds all the birds ?”

“Yes,”

“These birds too?” And Lottie held up a picture.

“Yes, he provides for the ‘moorfowl’ that lives away off in
lonely places, where no man dwells, as plentifully as for the
robin, the sparrow, and the little wren that feeds about our
dwellings.”

“What are the moorfowls doing, mamma?”

“ Just what robin is doing—getting their dinner.”

“What do they eat ?”

“Berries. Among the low plants and bushes that grow on
the moors in some parts of England and Scotland are many
kinds of berries; these the moorfowl eat. ‘These moors are
something like the great prairies out West, that your aunt Jane
told you about when she was here, only not so large.”

“ Are there any moorfowls on the prairies ?” asked Lottie.

“There are birds something like them. Aunt Jane sent us
some last winter.”

“Oh, prairie chickens!”

“ Yes, they are the moorfowls of our great prairies; and find
their food in the lonely places where God has set it for them,

always ready in due season.”
yi
110
CORA ALDEN’S NEW-YEAR'S PARTY.















































































































































































































































































































CORA ALDEN’S NEW-YEAR'S PARTY.

~ORA ALDEN gave a New-Year’s party. It was a day-
AI party, and the little girls and boys began to come by two

o'clock in the afternoon. There were at least twenty of
them, and very prettily dressed, well-behaved children
they were.

There was Edith Lawrence with a bright blue dress, and the
cunningest little white sack over it. Katy Pearce had on a
crimson red dress with bows at the sides, and a black silk apron.
Ella Lenoir wore a white dress, with a light blue overdress, the
skirt looped up at the sides. Then there were Ida Pearce,
and Camilla Richmon, and Etta Bender, and Anna Clare, and
Charley Davis, and Washington Lenoir, Ella’s brother, and I
cannot remember how many more besides, all dressed in their

best and looking very nice indeed.
11
CORA ALDEN’S NEW-YEAR'S PARTY.

Cora herself wore a white flounced petticoat and an overdress
of pink, looped up at the sides with rosettes, and a pink ribbon
in her hair. Her little sister May, who was only three years
old, looked as sweet as possible in her little white frock and
scarlet sash.

The children all sat very quiet for a while, looking at one
another and scarcely daring to speak above a whisper.

At last Cora said, “ Come, let’s play.”

“What shall we play?” asked Katy.

“Blindman’s Buff,” suggested Ella, but Katy objected that
they might tear their clothes.

“T know!” exclaimed Anna Clare. “ Let’s play ‘ Drop the
Handkerchief.’ We played it at grandpa Davis’s on Christmas
—only a week ago—and we had real fun.”

About half of them jumped up and formed a ring in the
middle of the floor. Little May wanted to play “ D’op the
hankcher” with the rest, so they let her stand in the circle
There wouldn’t but two or three boys come, as they were too
bashful. Washington Lenoir was finally persuaded to carry
the handkerchief, as he understood the game.

The children joined hands in a circle. Washington tied up
his handkerchief into knots, and then walked around the out-
side of the circle with it in his hand, finally dropping it behind
Anna Clare. As soon as Anna found the handkerchief was
behind her, she picked it up and ran after Washington, trying
to catch him. But Washington had a good start and got around
the circle before she did, and took the place she had left. So
Anna had to go around with the handkerchief, dropping it
behind some one else.

They played “Drop the Handkerchief” until they were
tired, and then played a game called “ Margaretta’s Tower.”

One little girl is chosen to be Margaretta. She then takes a

cushion and kneels down on it in the middle of the room. ‘The
112
CORA ALDEN’S NEW-YEAR’S PARTY.





rest of the company, except the cavalier, form a circle round
her, each taking in hand the hem of Margaretta’s skirt. They
then raise their arms, raising at the same time the skirt until
the latter reaches above Margaretta’s head, quite concealing her
from view. The children forming the circle are called the
stones of the tower. Margaretta being quite hidden in her
bower, the cavalier approaches the stones singing,—

Oh, where is Margaretta ?
Oh joy, oh joy, oh joy.
Oh, where is Margaretta ?
Oh joy, oh joy, oh joy.
To which the stones reply in the same melody,—

She is within her tower,
Oh joy, oh joy, oh joy.
She is within her tower,
Oh joy, oh joy, oh joy.
118
CORA ALDEN’S NEW-YEARS PARTY.

The cavalier continues:

But can she not be seen?
Oh joy, oh joy, oh joy.
And the stones answer,
The walls are much too high,
Oh joy, oh joy, oh joy.
The cavalier now assumes a bold air and sings:
I will knock down a stone,
Oh joy, oh joy, oh joy.
And seizing one of the stones, forcibly removes her from the
circle. Her place is instantly filled in by the rest, who sing:

One stone is not enough,
Oh joy, oh joy, oh joy.
The cavalier nothing daunted, sings, “I will knock down two
stones,” and so on until only one stone is left. The latter
gathers the skirt of Margaretta into a handful over her head,
and the cavalier, ceasing to sing, says in a speaking voice,
“What have you got there?” The stone replies, “ Only clothes
for the wash ;” whereupon the cavalier says, “I must go and
get a knife to cut the bag open.” Upon hearing which, Mar-
garetta breaks away from her imprisonment, and rushes round
the room to catch some one. All her companions run away,
because the child caught has to be Margaretta in her turn, and
so on till the end of the game.

They were still playing “ Margaretta’s Tower,” when the call
came for supper.

After supper the party broke up, and by seven o’clock every
little boy and girl was at home telling about the “ good times”
they had had at the party ; and in less than an hour afterward,
I shouldn’t wonder if most of them were in bed fast asleep,
they were so tired with playing.

114
THE POND.



THE POND.

gw HERE was a round pond, and a pretty pond too;
Z j About it white daisies and violets grew,
And dark weeping-willows, that stoop to the ground,
Dipped in their long branches and shaded it round.

One day a young chicken, that lived thereabout,
Stood watching to see some ducks pop in and out,
Now turning tail upward, now diving below ;

She thought, of all things, she would like to do so.

So the poor silly thing was determined to try ;
She thought ’twas as easy to swim as to fly:
Though her mother had told her she must not go near,

She foolishly thought there was nothing to fear.
115
THE POND.

“My feet, wings, and feathers, for aught I can see,

As good as the ducks are for swimming,” said she ;
“Though my beak is pointed, and their beaks are round,
Is that any reason that I should be drowned ?”

“Why should I not swim, then, as well as a duck?

I think I shall venture, and so try my luck!

“For,” said she (spite of all that her mother had taught her),
“Tm really remarkably fond of the water.”

So in this poor ignorant chick rashly flew,

But soon found her dear mother’s cautions were true:

She splashed, and she dashed, and she turned herself round,
And heartily wished herself safe on the ground.

But now ’twas too late to begin to repent:

The harder she struggled the deeper she went ;
And when every effort she vainly had tried,
She slowly sunk down to the bottom and died.

It was but one little blow—

Passion’s sudden overflow—
Scarcely heeded in its fall:

But, once loosed, the fiery soul

Would no longer brook control ;
Laws it spurned, defied them all,

Till the hands, love-clasped in vain,

Wore the murderer’s crimson stain.

116
MY PUSSY CAT.



MY PUSSY CAT.

HAD a little pussy cat
When I was only five; ,

A funny little pussy cat—
The funniest alive.

~pees+

She’d tumble on the carpet,
She’d tear about the room,

She’d watch when Ellen came to sweep,
And jump upon her broom.

And if you’d draw along the ground
A handkerchief or string,

She’d crouch a moment watching it,
Then give a tiger spring,

As if it were a mouse she saw,

Or other living thing.
117
MY PUSSY CAT.

My darling little pussy !
But that was long ago,

I’m five years older now than then,
And cats, like children, grow.

My pussy is a stately cat:
No more about the room

She chases mamma’s knitting-ball,
Or jumps at Ellen’s broom ;

But sits up, tall and dignified,
And winks, and spreads her paw
Out in a serious way, as though
Just laying down the law.

T laugh, when I remember
The harum-scarum thing,

That whirled around to catch her tail,
Or tried to seize a string.

And will the little romping girl
That laughs at pussy now,

Grow up and be as dignified,
And wear a serious brow?

It may be so; but this Pll say—
And say it once for all—

T’ll do much more than wink and blink,
Sitting up straight and tall.


A HAWK AMONG THE BIRDS.

























































































A HAWK AMONG THE BIRDS.

OOR little birds!” said Hattie, in a distressed voice, half
asleep and half awake, starting up in bed.
“What birds?” asked her mother, turning from the
window where she had been sitting with a book in her
hand.

“Qh, it was nothing but a dream. And I’m so glad!”
answered the child, sitting up in bed and looking about the room.
“Poor little birds!) The hawk tore them all to pieces.”

“Tn your dream ?”

“Yes, mamma.”

“Won’t you tell me about it, dear ?”

“Well, you see, mamma, two dear little birds—dream-birds,
I mean—were hopping about on the grass, looking for some-
thing to eat; and one of them found a worm. As soon as he
had picked it up he turned and ran off, like a greedy fellow, to
eat it all up by himself. The other bird, seeing the worm in

his mouth, ran after him; and then they had a quarrel, pulling
119


SING, BIRDIE, SING!

at the worm and picking at each other, and making a loud chat-
tering and chirping noise that could be heard for a great
distance. Poor, foolish little birds! They did not see a great
hawk up in the sky, who had heard the noise of their quarrel-
ling and was now coming down toward them as swiftly as he
could fly. Oh, it made me sick, mamma—the cruel way in .
which he tore them all to pieces with his dreadful beak and
claws! I’m so glad it was only a dream !”

—- — ~en —_____

SING, BIRDIE, SING!

an
&F* P in a tree, birdie,
dil Up in a tree,

¢ Sing a sweet song about
Summer to me.

Sing of the sunshine,
Sing of the showers,

Sing of the dewdrops,
Sing of the flowers.

Then, when winter comes
Back with its snow,

When the cold winds
O’er the frozen fields blow,

When you, dear birdie, are
Hungry and numb,
I'll see that you never

Shall want for a crumb.
120
THE DOGS OF ST. BERNARD.



THE DOGS OF ST. BERNARD.

P among the snow mountains some good men have
built a large house, called St. Bernard’s, where the
monks live, and many a poor traveller has been saved
from death by the monks and their dogs. These dogs

are great strong ones, nearly as big as a Newfoundland dog,

and are very clever at finding people who haye got lost in the
snow. The monks tie a little flask of brandy or wine round
their necks, and, when a storm comes on, they send all of them
out, to bring in as many travellers as they can find.

Among the many interesting stories which have been told of
travellers rescued from death by the faithfulness of these noble
animals, is the following:

An English nobleman with his family was once passing over
121


THE DOGS OF ST. BERNARD.

these mountains, when a violent snow-storm came on. In the
midst of it one of the horses, upon which rode a little son of the
nobleman, with a servant to take care of him, made a misstep
and was hurled down the steep side of the mountain to the gulf
beneath.

The poor father, distracted with grief, gave them up for lost,
and, with the rest of his family, hastened to the convent to tell
his sorrowful story.

The kind monks told him to be of good courage, for they
would go in search of the missing ones. So they took one of
their dogs and tied to him some food, a flask of brandy, and a
roll of strong cord, and went toward the spot where the poor
travellers had fallen.

The snow was blowing so furiously that they could see nothing,
and the sides of the mountain were so steep and slippery that
no one could go down.

At length they thought they heard faint cries; immediately
the dog ran down to the spot whence the sound proceeded, and
they lost sight of him.

After waiting in vain a long time for the dog to appear, they
feared that he too might be lost, and one of them returned home
to get more help.

When he came in sight of the convent, he saw the noble dog
standing at the door, with the little child, safe and sound, cling-
ing to his shaggy neck.

He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small ;
For the dear God, who loveth us,

He made and loveth all.
122
THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN.



THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN.

4 N the White Mountains of New Hampshire is a very high
[ elevation called “ Profile Mountain.” It is so called from
a the outline of an old man’s face, formed in the solid rock,
standing clear and distinct against the sky; with brow,
nose, lip and chin, all perfect.
Here is a little sketch which may give you a slight idea of
it. At the foot of the Profile Mountain is a beautiful little
sheet of water which is called the “Old Man’s Mirror.”

——_—_-~
I must not throw upon the floor
The crust I cannot eat,

For many little hungry ones
Would think it quite a treat ;

For wilful waste makes woful want,
And I may live to say,

Oh, how I wish I had the bread

That once I threw away !
128
THE LITTLE FLYNNS.

i
Mtn

: \



LET

THE LITTLE FLYNNS.



HEN the six little Flynns were fast asleep on Christ-
| mas eve, their mother hung up their stockings in a
row by the fireplace, and filled them with treasures
she had brought home. She pinned to them the little
garments, and then sat down by the fire and looked at them
with the happiest heart she had known for many a day.

I do not know what any one who might have been passing
Mrs. Flynn’s house early the next morning would have thought
on hearing such an uproar, but if he had looked in at the
window he would have laughed, I know, to see the six little
Flynns in their white night-gowns capering about the room,
each grasping a well-filled stocking, and all laughing, crying,
and shouting for joy, while above the tumult arose the shrill
voice of Maggie,—

“ Ah, mother, mother! Santa Claus did not pass us by !”
124

















DOLLY.
EAR little Dolly !

Sweet as a rose !
How much I love you

Nobody knows.
Holiday’s over,

And, by the rule,
Minnie must go again

Off to her school.

Don’t cry for Minnie,
Dolly my sweet!
When school is over,
Fast as her feet,
Running and skipping
And dancing, will bring
Minnie, she’ll come to you,

Darlingest thing !
125
THE SISTERS.



THE SISTERS.

HAT merry little creatures are Ethel and Louisa Lee!
They are sisters, and may always be seen together,
romping gayly about. Now they are playing cat’s
cradle. They are just as happy as happy can be,

for they have been taught to be very kind to each other, and
do not spoil their bonny faces by getting angry and ill-tem-

pered. What a beautiful sight it is to see little children living
in love and peace!



———~
CHILDREN, remember you grow old every day, and if you
have bad habits they grow old too; and the older both get, the

harder you are to separate.
126
4 ||

TWO LITTLE KITTENS.



TWO LITTLE KITTENS.

HIS picture of a little kitten out in the snow reminds me

of the following poem.

Two little kittens, one stormy night,

Began to quarrel and then to fight ;

One had a mouse, the other had none,

And that was the way that the strife begun.

“Tl have the mouse,” said the bigger cat ;

“ Yow ll have the mouse! we'll see about that ’’
“T will have that mouse,” said the elder one;
“You shan’t have that mouse,” said the little one.

I told you before ’twas a stormy night
When these two kittens began to fight;
The old woman seized her sweeping-broom,

And swept the two kittens out of the room.
127
THE FARM.

The ground was covered with frost and snow,
And the two little kittens had nowhere to go;
So they laid them down on a mat at the door,
While the old woman finished sweeping the floor.

Then they crept in as quiet as mice,

All wet with snow and as cold as ice;

For they thought ’twould be better, that stormy night
‘To lie down and sleep than to quarrel and fight.

—_—<2 > _____

>















THE FARM.

OW sorry Jessie Green is to leave the pleasant farmhouse
where she has spent such a pleasant fortnight! She
has been with the milkmaid when she milked the cows
early in the morning, and drank the milk warm, and

sweet, and fresh; and listened to the humming of the bee as he

wandered from flower to flower; and watched the soaring lark
as he mounted higher and higher singing his joyful song, and

she is very sorry now to have to go back to her city home.
128


ONLY A BABY SMALL.

== i
= c
tne aA CTY



NLY a baby small,
Dropped from the skies;
Only a laughing face,
Two sunny eyes;
Only two cherry lips,
One chubby nose ;
Only two little hands,
Ten little toes.



Only a golden head,
Curly and soft ;
Only a tongue that wags

Loudly and oft ;
g 129
DON’T KILL THE BIRDS.

Only a little brain,
Empty of thought ;

Only a little heart,
Troubled with naught.

Only a tender flower
Sent us to rear;

Only a life to love
While we are here;

Only a baby small,
Never at rest;

Small, but how dear to us
God knoweth best.



That sing about your door,
~? Soon as the joyous spring has come,
And chilling storms are o’er.
The little birds—how sweet they sing ;
Oh, let them joyous live,
And do not seek to take their life,

Which you can never give.
130

4 ON’T harm the birds—the little birds
A CRADLE-SONG.



A CRADLE-SONG.

+ OW, my baby, rest thy head
, On thy warm and curtained bed ;
Rest thee now in slumber deep—
Sleep, my baby, sweetly sleep.



‘)

All the birds have sunk to rest,
Each within its cosy nest ;
Twilight shadows round us creep—

Sleep, my baby, sweetly sleep.

In the tranquil summer sky

Stars are shining peacefully ;

Through the curtains now they peep—
Sleep, my baby, sweetly sleep.

Darkness now is drawing near,
Yet for thee I need not fear ;
God will thee in safety keep—

Sleep, my baby, sweetly sleep.
131
THE BEAR.



THE BEAR.

LONG time since, when I was not so old as you are, a
man would come to the town that I was in with a bear
| ‘to show. He led it by a rope, and it would get up on
its hind legs, and walk up and down when the man told
it to do so. ‘This bear had a long coat of dark hair, like a mat.
T have seen more than one kind of bear kept for show: some
can be made tame, like the one I told you of, but some are hard
to tame. Some eat meat; some do not. This bear in the pic-
ture is so tame that a little girl can play with him.
The bear’s paws are not made like the paws of a dog or cat ;
they bend up as it puts its foot down to walk, so that its feet

look. flat.
132
FATHER'S BOOTS.



FATHER’S BOOTS.

EE, mamma! I can wear papa’s boots.” And little
Frank Herbert stood before his mother looking pleased
and proud.

“Yes, I see. But ain’t they too large for you?”

“Not much. Now, see how I can run!” and off Franky
started through the long parlor. But in a moment or two the
clumsy boots tripped him, and down he went, striking his
tender little nose on the floor.

“ Poor little nose!” said his mother, as she hurried him to
the bath-room, where with cold water the flow of blood was
soon stopped.

“Not big enough yet for papa’s boots!” and Mrs. Herbert
looked smilingly into Franky’s sober face as she led him back
to the parlor.



o>

HE that refuseth to buy good counsel cheap, must buy repent-

ance dear.
133
CHARLIE.





CHARLIE.

HARLIE is a very dull boy, and, though he is as big

as you see him in the picture, he cannot read long

-words. For Charlie likes to play much better than to

read, and so, when he comes to study his lesson, he puts

up his hand and scratches his head, as if that would help him.

I am afraid, if Charlie does not take care, he will turn out a
very ignorant boy, and then everybody will laugh at him.

Ir children struggle hard and pray
To drive all naughty thoughts away,
Then they’ll be happy all day long

As wild birds in their morning song.
134
“ SPEAK GENTLY.”





“SPEAK GENTLY.”

PEAK gently! it is better far
SS To rule by love than fear:
“Y" Speak gently! let no harsh words mar
The good we might do here.

Speak gently! love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;

And gently friendship’s accents flow—
Affection’s voice is kind.

Speak gently to the little child,
Its love be sure to gain;
Teach it in accents soft and mild:

It may not long remain.
135
YOU CAN’T CATCH THE FISHES.



YOU CAN’T CATCH THE FISHES.

; AKE care, little girl!

Al You can’t catch the dear, tiny fishes; they won’t let
you; and if you should bend over a little too far, you will
fall into the water, and then who would get you out?

Oh, dear! you would be drowned, I’m afraid, for I don’t see

your mamma or anybody else.

I know the fishes are beautiful, with their shining sides
turned to the sun, and looking like silver and gold; but they
won’t let you catch them, little one. The moment your hand
touches the water, down they will go, and you, reaching too far,
may tumble in; so, come away from the water. Hark! Isn’t
your mamma calling? Yes, I’m sure she is; and I hope she is
near, and will come right away ere you fall in, for then you
might be drowned before she could get you out.

———___—
Do not forget that while you fold veut hands, time folds not
his wings. -
136
THE LITTLE CHILD'S WISH.



THE LITTLE CHILD’S WISH.

4 That’s shining in the sky,
~WNO But it is up so very far,

I cannot reach so high.

aye Thee hat tiilemtan

“T want it for my very own,
To be with me at night ;

It would be nice when left alone
To have that pretty light.

“ And then, mamma, I might be told
About that home so fair,

And if on harps of shining gold
The angels play up there.”

“My child, while in this home below
Be patient, good, and true,

Then at the last you'll surely know
What angels say and do.

“ And like that star whose light pours down,
You (when this life is past),
Within your Heavenly Father’s crown,

‘Will shine a star at last.”
137
ONE THING AT A TIME.



| ene ee

















































































































































ONE THING AT A TIME.

ORK while you work,
Play while you play,
That is the way
To be cheerful and gay.

All that you do,
Do with your might;
Things done by halves
Are never done right.



One thing each time,
And that done well,

Is a very good rule,
As many can tell.

Moments are useless,
Trifled away ;
So work while you work,
And play while you play.
138
BLOWING SOAP BUBBLES.



BLOWING SOAP BUBBLES.

ICK is blowing soap bubbles!” cries little Kitty. ‘Come
and see! come and see, Polly!”

y So Polly came running, and brought with her a clean

new pipe which her father had given her, that she might
try to blow bubbles too.

There sat Dick ‘in the wash-house on a wooden stool, with a
saucer in his hand, that had a little bit of soap in it, and some
soapy water out of the washing-tub; and Kitty sat on the
ground and looked at him, and shouted, and clapped her hands
for joy as he blew the bubbles, and they floated away in the
air.

Oh, what a large one he is blowing now! It will never float
away. It will burst; and so it does burst, but Dick does not
care. He can blow as many as he likes, and the cost is not
much.



139
THE BELL BIRD.



















THE BELL BIRD.



Si ¢ ARRY,” said Mr. Hunt, “bring that large natural his-
A \ tory from the library. Now let us turn to the index.
“Xi Yes, here it is, ‘The Bell Bird, or Campanero.’ And

here is a picture to the very life, looking just as I saw
it in the forest.”

“Why, it’s got a horn on its head!” exclaimed Harry.

“Yes, and I think this horn has something to do with the
sound the bird makes. It is a hollow black tube sprinkled over
with little tufts of white feathers; not of bony hardness, but
firm and tough like rubber, and has an opening into the mouth.
When the Campanero sings, or rings his bell, just as you please
to say, this horn fills out and stands up very straight and firm,
looking something like an ear of corn.”

?

THEY are never alone that are accompanied with noble

thoughts.
140
THE LION, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX.



THE LION, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX.

LION and a bear fell together by the ears over the car-
cass of a fawn which they found in the forest, their title
& © to him being to be decided by force of arms. The battle
was severe and tough on both sides, and they held it
out, tearing and worrying one another so long, that, what with
wounds and fatigue, they were so faint and weary that they
were not able to strike another stroke. Thus, while they lay
upon the ground, panting and lolling out their tongues, a fox
chanced to pass by that way, who, perceiving how the case
stood, very impudently stepped in between them, seized the
booty which they had all this while been contending for, and
carried it off. The two combatants, who lay and beheld all this,
without having strength enough to stir and prevent it, were only
wise enough to make this reflection: “ Behold the fruits of our
strife and contention! that villain, the fox, bears away the
prize, and we ourselves have deprived each other of the power
to recover it from him.”
Those who fight with each other often lose all and give others

the chance of enriching themselves.
141
THE JACKDAW.





THE JACKDAW.

SL ‘\ NCE upon a time a jackdaw found some beautiful pea-
Al) ) cock feathers lying on the ground.
$ He thought ‘that if he dade himself out with them,
people would admire him for his fine dress.

So he stuck the feathers in his tail, and then he went strut-
ting about to show himself off.

Do you see him as he tries to spread out his tail like a pea-
cock? But it was of no use. He was only a jackdaw after all.

Instead of being admired by his brother jackdaws, they all
mocked and jeered at him. They would not let him stay in
their company; and the other birds pecked at him till they
plucked off all his borrowed feathers.

He was glad to be a plain, homely jackdaw again. And
when he was dying he gave this advice to his children :

“ Never pretend to be what you are not.”

“ Do not be like some boys and girls I know, who think that
fine dresses will make people admire them.”
“ A jackdaw should not try to look like a peacock, nor a little

girl to look like a fine lady.”
142
GRANDPA AND HIS DARLING.



GRANDPA AND HIS DARLING.

DON’T believe, grandpa, you ever did see anything so
sweet. It’s got blue eyes, and they open and shut; and
its hair is real, and curls all over its head. Oh, it’s
lovely !”

“T’m not sure of that,” said grandpa. “I’ve seen a great
many sweet and lovely things in my time.” |

“ Oh, but nothing so sweet as Fanny’s doll, grandpa! Nobody
ever did see anything sweeter than that.”

“T did once, I know,” answered grandpa, speaking so confi-

dently that little Florry looked up in his face and said, —
148


GRANDPA AND HIS DARLING.

“Tell me about it, won’t you ?”

“It's just four years since I first saw it.”

“Qh, that’s a great while ago, grandpa. As long as four
Christmases,”

“Four times as long as from one Christmas to another, you
mean.”

“T ’spose so; you know how to say it best, grandpa.”

“You think it a long time from one Christmas to another ?”

“Oh, dear, yes! It is a dreadful long time. ”“Twon’t never
come again, seems to me.”

“ Just as surely as my little girl lives will Christmas be along
by and by; so she must wait patiently. There is something
good for her in every day; something to make her happy ; and
if she enjoys every day’s good things as she receives them, she
will be the happier at Christmas when it comes.”

« And now tell me what you saw four years ago,” said Florry,
laying her head down against her grandfather to listen.

“ Well, you shall hear all about it. It had blue eyes, and they
opened and shut, and its hair was real and curled all over its
head; and it was just a hundred times sweeter than Fanny’s doll.”

“Oh, grandpa! It must have been a real live baby!” cried
Florry, starting up.

“So it was; a real live baby. Its blue eyes were so clear
and bright that you could see your own face in them; its cheeks
were softer than any velvet, and the bloom on them purer than
the bloom on apple-blossoms ; and its mouth—oh, its mouth was
so sweet that we troubled the darling with our many kisses!
And such dear little hands! One said they were like crumpled
rose-leaves, and another called them pink shells.”

“Had it any name?” asked Florry.

“We gave her a name.”

“Oh, I know; it was me.”

“Yes, my darling, it was our own little Florry.”
144
THE END.