Karl Frohlich's frolicks with scissors and pen

Material Information

Karl Frohlich's frolicks with scissors and pen
Added title page title:
Frolicks with scissors and pen
Fröhlich, Karl ( Author, Primary )
Chatelain, Clara de, 1807-1876 ( Translator )
Worthington, R ( Publisher )
Trow's Printing & Bookbinding Co ( Printer )
Frohlich, Karl
Place of Publication:
New York (750 Broadway)
R. Worthington
Trow's Printing and Bookbinding Co.
Publication Date:
Physical Description:
[56] p. : ill. ; 25 cm.


Subjects / Keywords:
Silhouettes -- Specimens ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1879
Publishers' advertisements -- 1879 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1879
Children's poetry
Publishers' advertisements ( rbgenr )
non-fiction ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- New York -- New York
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )


General Note:
Includes publisher's advertisement.
General Note:
Illustrated end papers.
General Note:
Silhouette illustrations.
Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
Statement of Responsibility:
the rhymes translated and adapted from the original German of Fr/:ohlich by Madame de Chatelain.

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 ( with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
023341854 ( ALEPH )
23127521 ( OCLC )
AHK8543 ( NOTIS )


This item has the following downloads:

Full Text


'll i LA .'s:',
-. t..
i .:' ij! f
... ..... ,.,

'. ! ': ;:'!
~'" ';; :i '; ....

S .. ,.
[ N.i .. .. ....
*' ..

.e.- - .. ;

. ... ,..: -:!.
," i :::- _

"" ''y ':.r

't ~ ~ 'I: ": i'

.i 4 -
:,% ,g ..,... ..;. i .?. ,. .,.;
.: ,. :",; .. .. ..
; ..r : !.
-...':i """ ,, .: .:: .. .. ..

... .',


/' -'- r. --',, .., -"
eI ir

Z. _,7 .


I .V-


m, lori--"d"
": ,,. ":" ;',".i "* :'. ...
"..;:" ii.'.. ..': :, '.. ... ... .. '.. ,R o- -i,,;. ,. .. .


"* I *t
A 4 yrWM ^^W^^W^ At?

/: -; ^J *^ !''













205-213 Fast i2t/h s'.,


OT all dealers in the black art stand in need of the conjurer's stuffed crocodile,
and wise-looking owl, nor do they all require his wand to trace cabalistic
figures on the ground. No I have heard of one whose only wand is a small pair
of scissors, and with these, if you do but give him a sheet of black paper, he will
conjure up not indeed spirits from the vasty deep," like his brother wizards, but
a whole world of little people, some scarcely an inch high, but all instinct with life
and spirit and motion. Here you will see tiny, fantastic beings, disporting on
arabesques with the fearless ease of rope-dancers-there you will admire some
scene of familiar life, in which both men and animals take a part, and you are
struck with the truth and fidelity of the representation. You marvel how it is
possible to give such expression to mere black paper; how the characteristic
features of both men and beast are hit off to such a nicety ; how little dogs with
heads no bigger than a pin's head, can look fierce or playful by a single snip from
the scissors guided by that cunning hand ; how the fisherman, no bigger than your
little finger, carries a net with meshes as fine as those of Mecklin lace-and then
you are forced to confess that the simplest means often produce the most wonderful

And now, my young readers, sh-itd you wish to know who this conjurer may
be, I will tell you that his name is Karl Fr6hlich, and before you examine the
contents of his book, I will proceed to give you a few details of his early career,
which so admirably illustrates how much may be achieved by perseverance.

Karl Fr6hlich was born in Stralsund, in Pomerania, and was the son of a poor
shoemaker, who had enough to do to earn bread for his wife and family. But
"unlike many children who are fractious and discontented, even when their bread is
buttered on both sides, Karl was a merry little fellow, quite ready to battle with

the ups and downs of the world, and to make the best of everything ; and perhaps
the secret of his infantine philosophy lay chiefly in the fact, that even at that early
age he had already a favorite pursuit-and a pursuit generally implies perseverance
-for, as Shakespeare expresses it, The boy was father to the man."

Karl's taste for the pictorial art was inherited from his maternal aunt, who was
so clever at cutting out silhouettes, or figures in black and colored paper, as to be
able to earn a livelihood by making lamp-shades and ornaments to encircle wax
tapers. In her spare moments, Aunt Marieken would frequently amuse Karl and
his brothers and sisters by cutting out the kings and queens of playing cards, and
giving them a pinch to make them stand upright; or better still, cutting out
different groups, such as huntsmen and hounds, and other subjects, which she
fashioned with her scissors, unassisted by any design. We believe there was also
an uncle and a grandmother who had a talent this way, which they exercised to
amuse the little Fr6hlichs, and to make paper articles for their friends and neigh-
bors, such as decorations for a coffin, lamp-shades, or ornaments for a cake. Some
of these were better executed than others; but still the use of the scissors seemed
familiar to all the members of the family.

Children like to imitate what they see, and accordingly Karl never rested till
he got a pair of scissors and made some rude attempts to cut out, in doing which
he occasionally cut his fingers, though even this could not damp his ardor in the
practice of his favorite art. If his mother sent him on an errand, Karl was sure to
stop and look at the print-shops on his way; and many a scolding did he get for
being behind his time, for of course he had no right to neglect his duty; only with
him it was not mere curiosity, but the awakening of a talent bestowed upon him by
tli Giver of all good, and which, unknown to himself, as it were, sought to struggle
. into existence.

When Aunt Marieken's business increased, and she had less time to cut out
figures for her nephews and nieces, Karl took upon himself to manufacture all

sorts of subjects for himself and his young friends. Nor was he long to remain in
his aunt's neighborhood, for when he was about seven years of age his parents
removed to Berlin, and took up their abode in one of the narrowest and most
dismal streets of that city. His father had hoped to obtain more work in a larger
town; but being a stranger, work came in very slowly, and want threatened to
become an inmate of the poor shoemaker's humble dwelling. Karl was now
thankful to be employed by a neighboring smith, to do odd jobs, such as
chopping wood and fetching water, and sweeping the door front, in return for
his food; besides which the smith's wife, a good-natured soul, would frequently
give the lad a basin of broth or a loaf to take home to his brothers and sisters. This
sort of life continued till he was about twelve, years of age, when it became
necessary he should seek for more profitable occupation. Hitherto he had only
received the sort of education which parish schools afforded some five-and-twenty
years ago for the children of the poorer classes, and it was now desirable he should
learn a trade to help to support his family. With this purpose in view, he attended
day after day, with a host of other boys, at the door of a register office, where
persons applied for situations.

At last, one morning a stout gentleman approached the little group with a
scrutinizing gaze.
I want an errand boy," said he.
Karl Frahlich and another directly offered their services..
The stout gentleman seemed at first to hesitate which of the two he should
How much is fourteen times seventeen ? asked he suddenly.
Two hundred and thirty-eight," cried Karl.
"Well done Come along with me," said the stout gentleman.
And forthwith Karl became an errand boy.

This was indeed only a first step, but as his master was well pleased with him,
he soon after made him apprentice to his own business, namely, that of a printer.

The boy's whole soul was now bent upon thoroughly ma-tering the printer's
art, in order to assist his family and obtain some learning for himself. An old
crony of his father's, whom the latter occasionally treated to a glass of beer, when
work was plentiful, now helped the young aspirant with the gift of a few books.
Although the lad could but acquire a kind of desultory knowledge, picked up by
bits and scraps, his thoughtful mind made the most of it, and when he wandered
forth as a journeyman printer, the principal contents of his knapsack, besides the
bare necessaries and thirteen silver groshen, consisted of several volumes of classic
German writers.

Our young readers should be told that in Germany every mechanic wanders
from place to place during several years, to perfect himself in his craft, stopping at
every town where he can obtain work. And thus Karl set forth bravely to fight-
or rather to cut-his way through the world, for his scissors had not been
forgotten, and many a time did he cut out some pretty paper scene, to pay for his
night's lodging or his noon-day meal.

On reaching Stralsund he staid for a short time with Aunt Marieken, who
happened to be very busy just then. A counsellor of Stralsund was celebrating a
wedding in his family, and had given her an extensive order for lamp-shades and
paper ornaments to put round the wax tapers-for none but Aunt Marieken's were
approved of by people of fashion. The young traveller offered to help his aunt,
but she only laughed, saying how should a printer know anything about cutting
out ? But he took up the scissors and soon showed her he had not forgotten the
lessons he had taken in early youth. His aunt was quite amazed on seeing
him presently complete a pair of colored lamp-shades, which he carried to the
counsellor's. As he had introduced a variety of scrolls and ornaments which his
good old aunt had never sported, he was obliged, in answer to the counsellor's
questions, to own himself the manufacturer, when that gentleman kindly showed
him a couple of hunting pieces, cut out in black paper, by Miller of Dusseldorf,
which were preserved as rarities in his house.

The sight of these was quite a revelation to Fr6hlich, who had never seen
anything of the kind; and the first thing he did on returning to his aunt's was to
fling all his silhouettes into the fire, determined, as he was, never to rest till he had
equalled the artist whose works he so much admired. He, too, must and would
cut out some hunting scenes I, too, am a painter said the Italian in emulation
of Raphael, and our artist proved yet more successful in imitating his model.
Every moment he could snatch from the printing-office was devoted to cutting out
silhouettes. The scissors became his constant companion. He would frequently
sit up by the night together to practise his favorite art. Crowds of figures seemed
to start into life in his fertile imagination, whilst his rapid improvement in the more
practical part of the art keeping pace with his ambitious aims, he at length reached
a degree of skill in which he stands unrivalled. Sculptors have admired his works,
not only for the wonderful inventive faculty they display, but also for the execution,
which can only have been carried to such perfection by the most refined sense of
design, and a very uncommon delicacy of touch.

Karl Frahlich wandered through Germany for many years, like most mechanics,
only he looked upon the world with the eyes of an artist and a poet, and made
friends amongst all classes, while highly esteemed in his own, and returned to
Berlin an expert printer, an intellectual and thoughtful man, a talented poet, and
an incomparable cutter out of silhouettes.

Two years after his return he hit upon the plan of multiplying his silhouettes
by lithography, and applying them to children's books. In 1852 he began to
publish a series of volumes (from which the present work is culled), both the text
and the silhouettes emanating from the same accomplished hand. Karl Fr6hlich
has the happy knack of pleasing the little ones with his simple rhymes, and it is
probable that his exquisite silhouettes will promote a taste for design amongst his
juvenile readers, and that many will take up the scissors and endeavor to imitate
what they see; and though they may not succeed to the same degree, the attempt
will at any rate improve their ideas, and form their minds for understanding the
beautiful in art.

Our young readers will be glad to learn that our artist continues his labor of
love, and is always inventing something new and attractive. His small establish-
ment presents the model of a patriarchal family. An aged mother and two sisters
live with himself and wife, each respectively busied with their occupations, and all
uniting in a common love of improvement, and for all that is beautiful and good.
And in the evening when their washing or ironing is over, and the industrious
needle is at length at rest, the family enjoy some pleasant book as a welcome
relaxation from toil, thereby exemplifying the elevating results which intellectual
cultivation may produce amongst the working classes.

This little implement behold,
Which like a fairy's magic wand,
A world of beauty can unfold,
And call up spirits at command;
Will show as plain as A B C,
What may be done by industry !


A GREETING to you, good friends all,
My gentle readers great and small!
Once more the black man, with your leave,
Presents his book on Christmas eve.

He will not frighten little folk
Like black men, of whom nurses croak-
But hopes awake, till midnight chimes,
To keep them with his prints and rhymes.

But should it turn out otherwise,
And you his humble rhymes despise-
Then take your scissors, children, do,
And copy what he cut for you.

As idle hours in life arise,
No knowledge can we too much prize,
And this the black man well may say,
For cutting out was once his play.

Then go, my book, and may'st thou be
As lucky as thy brethren three-*
And laughter raise without alloy,
And bring me too some Christmas joy !

Karl Friihlich alludes to his three preceding works.


-- -+--,-

",, SQUIRREL-squirrel lithe and wee! Then came a wicked man who laid
"Thy fur's as soft as down can be, The snare by which I'm captive made,
Thy teeth as ivory are white, And now 'twill be my mournful doom
Yet hard enough through nuts to bite. Instead of in the forest free,
To live pent in a narrow room
By way of bush or stately tree
"Squirrel-squirrel lithe and wee! What wonder if, thus sad and lorn,
How gladly would I purchase thee- From all my dearest habits torn,
But mother says: 'Twill never do, A-foraging I sometimes go
Thou nibblest table, book and shoe.'" And get a snubbing or a blow?
Child, should you on some summer's day,
Within the greenwood chance to stray,
Squirrel-squirrel hung his head; I pray you that from me you greet
"Oh! speak not thus," he sadly said, The happy creatures that you meet,
" Heav'n gave me once a woodland home The fawns, ants, sparrows and the hares
Where I the livelong day might roam, And tell them how with me it fares,
And gaily leap from branch to twig That while they leap, creep, sing and fly,
As blithe and merry as a grig; In chains and prison I must lie."



I WELL remember, when a child, He had regained both health and strength,
How angry home my pa once came- And then it was a sight to see
(He who was ever jjst and mild) How fond and playful he could be,
And said: It is a crying shame, And how it seemed to be his pride
Our neighbors from their door have spurned To let us children on him ride;
The faithful dog whose watchful care And when my little brother tripped
Both day and night so well has earned And down into the river slipped,
His humble pittance still to share- While mother in her frantic grief
Yet now, because he's ill, poor brute Her hands was ringing on the bank,
They little heed his sufferings mute- Brave Monarch came to her relief,
Oh such ingratitude's a sin !" And dragged the boy out ere he sank.
"Father," I cried-"let's take him in !" Oh what a lesson this to teach
"We will, my boy," he smiling said. Proud humankind their faults to scan !
And Monarch from that day was fed, A dog, although bereft of speech,
And nursed and tended till at length Shows far more gratitude than man !"

"( VES! those were deeds of glory," Behold upon this banner
1 Cried old disabled Fritz, Napoleon's effigy,
"'Tis I can tell the story His very air and manner
Of Ulm and Austerlitz. Good folks you here may see!
Though now I'm invalided, On eagle's pinions flying,
I was a smart hussar, From land to land he rushed,
Who danger never heeded Till liberty lay dying,
When first I went to war. Beneath his boot heel crushed.
The bullets round us whistled Then in his mad ambition
Like hailstones in a storm. He seized upon a throne,
The bayonets they bristled- Dictating each condition
Our work was rough and warm. To make the world his own.
But well we know that glory But Germans all united,
Is bought at bitter cost, And rose up to a man,
The fight was long and gory, To die or else be righted-
And there my leg I lost. The bravest led the van !
The wounded and the dying, Although a crippled soldier,
Upon the slippery ground I too would go to war,
Were all promiscuous lying, And still a musket shoulder
While fighting raged around. Amidst a Landwehr corps.
Amid the reckless slaughter, And then we gained fresh glory,
No helping hand was nigh, Till, quenched Napoleon's star,
And those who gasped for water, Disbanded soldiers hoary,
Unheeded still might cry. By thousands wanderers are.
I thought all hope was banished, Ah me! 'tis sad so many
And I was doomed to death- Who've fought with might and main,
But life had not quite vanished, Must fight, to gain a penny,
And I regained my breath. Their battles o'er again !"


ETER Pop went forth strutting In sheer desperation
To fetch down some game, He twirled like a top,
When a buck wildly butting, When a loud detonation
Took Pop for his aim. To earth made him drop.

When the hares saw how flustered He lay stunned-how untoward!-
Was Peter through dread, For two hours and a half,
Around him they clustered When the buck cried: "You coward!"
Till scarce he could tread. And the hares 'gan to laugh.

One old hare came leaping Then he aimed with his rifle
And showing his teeth, To look like a man,
Till Pop screamed, half weeping: When it snapped just a trifle
Who'll save me from death? And flashed in the pan.

Peter Pop Peter Pop !
At home for the future you'd far better stop.


"BOTH cat and dog might live at ease, On hearing this the master frown'd,
But nothing would their worships please. And angry cried : You lazy hound,
The dog forgot the house to watch, And you false puss-are these your thanks
The cat disdained the mice to catch ; For meat and shelter freely given ?
So well fed they, so snugly kept, Think you I'll bear such lawless pranks ?
That lazy habits o'er them crept Hence, idlers, hence before you're driven,
(And laziness will lead betimes Or else this stick with heavy thwacks
From small beginnings to great crimes) Shall write a warning on your backs."
Thus it became their chief delight
To jar and wrangle, scratch and bite. Thus both were forced to leave their home,
The nimbler cat would jump on high, And houseless thro' the world to roam,
And thence the snarling dog defy; Exposed to hunger, thirst, and blows,
Meanwhile the mice unchecked might play, And all because these silly foes
And while the dog forgot his duty, By temper urged, though neither brave,
A thief broke in, and ran away Like cat and dog must needs behave.
With half the farm-yard for his booty.


THE broom, wheelbarrow, hoe and spade
The place have all so tidy made,
That in one's socks I dare to say
You through the yard might pick your way.
And yet the peacock in his pride,
All thanks with graceless air denied.
"Now Master Cock," with haughty gloom
Quoth he, "the mud cart leave alone !
Nor hoe, nor barrow, spade nor broom,
Are company for us to own-
They are but scavengers at best."
" Such foolish sneers small wit attest,"
Replied straightforward chanticleer:
"To honest toilers thanks are due,
They've labored since the dew's first tear,
Now tell us-what's been done by you ?"
The peacock proudly arched his neck,
And showed the gems his tail that deck,
When: "Leave your boasts, and wisdom learn,"
Thus spoke the cock, "1had you to pay
For all the finery you display,
You'd die of hunger in a day J
For idle pride can nothing earn."

SLONE our good old blacksmith lives Then come with me the Raven cried,
Amidst his smithy's din, I'll fetch you golden rings,
And when to toil a truce he gives And deep within the hill abide
A Raven oft hops in. Yet far more wondrous things."
And then the solemn looking bird Oh !" cried the Smith, "the grandest sight
Will utter many a wizard word. Is when the harvest springs to light."

Says he : Give heed to what I say- For this, my bellows do I ply,
I'm flying t'wards the hill, And work with spirit blithe,
Where busy dwarfs, both night and day And sparks from out my anvil fly
Are forging-forging still When steel becomes a scythe.
Bright crowns of massive gold all new, And when the ploughshare breaks the ground, ^
Not vulgar ploughs and scythes like yon. It beams like any crown around."

The Raven croaked: Old fool, go too !"
And vanished in the air-
The Smith looked up to heaven's deep blue,
And said : O grant my pray'r
That honest toil, and spirit free
May keep temptation far from me!"


CONDUCTOR Stork with stick in hand, It was excruciating quite-

And Tom Cat leader of the band, It pleased the undiscerning crowd
With cock and squirrel, ape and fox, Who thought 'twas fine because 'twas loud-

A concert all agreed to give. A judgment which has still such sway

-It was enough-sure as I live !- That many to this very day,
To split but not to melt the rocks. Worse than Grimalkin or than ape
And yet although to ears polite Upon their fiddles saw and scrape.

A LITTLE boy, one summer's day, But he had reckon'd without the chickens,
Sat all alone to eat his cake, Who with the cake soon played the dickens,
And if a comrade said: Oh, pray, And pecked and pecked till.on the ground,
A tiny morsel let me take"- Not e'en a morsel could be found;
The little boy would run away. Let the child search both left and right,
The dog next said in language dumb, Alas! the cake had vanished quite!
While coaxingly he licked his brow: And then, as if to mock the boy,
Do let me nibble just a crumb!" The cock crowed loud with spiteful joy,
"You greedy thing, all's eaten now !" And cried: 0 won't your mammy bake

Thus false the graceless child replied, I Just such another dainty cake !"
For still the lump of cake he tried Thus he who ne'er his cake would share,
Behind his back from Tray to hide. Had lost it all from over care.

T HE stars are fading one by one The herdsman gaily blows his horn
As rosy morning breaks; Which all his flock obey;
The cock crows at the rising sun, The miller's up and grinding corn-
The twittering swallow wakes. Work ushers in the day.
The Watchman with his spear and horn And thou, dear child, be busy too,
Stands gazing at the sky, First wash thy face with care,
While rising from the ripening corn, And ere thou go'st to school, as due,
The lark is soaring high. Be sure to say thy pray'r:

The fragrant flowers perfume the graves Thou who art sitting on Thy throne
Within the churchyard trim ; Above both sun and star
The aged lime its branches waves, Who watched me through the night just flown,
And birds the water skim. And kept all evil far :
Life's busy hum is everywhere, Beneath Thy guidance just and mild,
The blacksmith's forge now glows- 0 let me ever pray
Alone with weary step and air As humbly as a little child,
The watchman homeward goes. And grateful as to day "

THROUGHOUT thevillage, from each hearth The maid returning from the fields,
The curling smoke is rising high- Now brings, in pails of shining tin,
And laboring men who till the earth The luscious milk the milk-cow yields-
Seek refuge from the scorching sky. "'Tis time," the dame says, "you came in."
The wanderer halts where green trees grow, For all the little ones beset
The bees are humming 'midst the corn, The housewife with their cries, and mutter:
The mowers' cheeks are all a-glow "If dinner is not ready yet,
Like any blushing rose at morn. Let's have a slice of bread and butter."

"Yes you shall have some by-and-by,
But Hannah first the men shall serve
Who've labored ere the sun was high,
And well their noon-day meal deserve.
For you've been staying where 'tis cool,
And from the door a brook's in sight-
And neither play nor even school
Can give you half their appetite.

There now, be patient and be good!
Then fold your hands in humble mood,
And may our heavenly Father bless your food !"

"W IHEN evening's stealing While bells are chiming
O'er the West, And all go home,

And bells are pealing: The stars are climbing

Come to rest! To heaven's dome.
Ding dong ding dong their voice at eve Sleep on," cry they, "for watch we'll keep,

Bids weary hinds their labors leave. Till morn shall through your windows peep."

We mark the shadows

As they fall,
And wrap the meadows

In a pall

And gladly welcome close of day

That soothes with sleep our cares away.

T HE trees so green, Till morning breaks
The flowers so bright In floods of light,
No more are seen- And Nature wakes,
All's black at night! How black is night !

And yet night brings All evil hearts
Sweet slumbers light, Are struck with fright,
And angels' wings For conscience smarts
Hover o'er night. When black is night.

The owl abroad But golden dreams
Now takes his flight The good delight,
For he's unawed And shed bright beams
By blackest night. O'er blackest night!

A MILLER, fat and burly, But lo his friend already
SWith honest Master Snip, Had fired his gun quite pat,
Went forth one morning early, And deemed his aim most steady-
To take a sporting trip. But what queer noise was that ?

All on a sudden stopping, Snip thought it quite amazing
The big one raised a cry: To hear so strange a note-
" Sure 'midst yon clover hopping, When who should he see grazing,
A hind and fawn I spy." But his own favorite goat ?

The tailor shrewd bethought him While dining off the heather,
He'd first consult his glass, The miller's ass he'd met,
Which nearer soon had brought him And both indulged together
The creatures in the grass. In singing a duct.

"Hee-haw-meck! meck what folly"
(Their music sounded thus)
"These would-be sportsmen jolly,
Think to make game of us "

A LITTLE frisky, nibbling mouse
Once lived within a tiny house
Made half of wood and half of wire.
Her eyes were red and full of fire,
And white as ermine was her gown,
Glossy as silk and soft as down ;
And twixtt her paws a roll she'd take
And into crumbs would deftly break.
The dog upon the watch would sit,
As oft as mousey ate a bit,
And watched so well that, day by day,
Grimalkin still he kept at bay.
For Tom had once mewed out: "For lunch
I were well pleased the mouse to munch!"
"Ay, come," the dog said, "if you dare,
And try a bit how you shall fare.
This little mouse in white all drest,.
No living thing has e'er opprest-
And were you not a coward born,
So weak a prey you ought to scorn."
And so Grimalkin slunk away,
And pounced upon a mouse in grey,
On bacon far too much employed
To dream how soon she'd be destroyed.
Alack-a-day 'twas ever thus,
And gluttony's the death of us!


comeM, Johnny," let's go where the blackberries grow,
And harness three cats to convey us."
"Oh no !" say the cats, "no! we never can go,

Such hard work it surely would slay us!"

Then John cries: "Ho, ho and dare you say so ?

You'll be tiottled unless you obey us!"

But the children say:-"No let the poor pussies go,

We would not they vainly should pray us."

For who can be merry when others are sad ?

Thus the little ones reasoned, and off scampered they-
And enjoyed themselves better, with spirits so glad,
Than if they had lolled in a coach all the way.


BOBBY Brag in his pride
The great horse fain would ride,
But soon found he'd met with his master.
Far from cutting a splash
lie perceived it was rash
To urge him to gallop yet faster.

Could he slacken the speed
Of his mettlesome steed,
How .gladly would Bobby now do it !
There are many who prate
About leaping a gate,
Who'd rather go quietly through it.

The urchins about,
At his horsemanship flout,
Still further the boaster to humble;
And cry out one and all:
"Pride must needs have a fall,
And into a ditch Brag will tumble."

' W ITH our granny-gee-ho! Yet the little ones tug,
To the greenwood let's go, And they pull and they lug,

Where the bees hum all day, With such hearty goodwill,

And the brooks are at play !" Though the chair stands stock still:

Granny sits in his chair And keep crying :-" Gee-ho !

With a right royal air, To the greenwood let's go,

But his horses they trot Where the bees hum all day,

Without moving a jot. And the brooks are at play "


THE brook runs babbling through the glade,
The harebells nod and jingle,
The woodpecker beneath the shade
Keeps tapping in the dingle.
The idle wasp goes humming by,
While thrifty ants their labors ply,
And bees who've searched the nooks most sunny,
Come laden home with luscious honey.

The huntsman near the streamlet's -rim,
Beneath the willows lying,
Upon his bugle breathes a hymn
To close the day that's dying.
And as it floats the'breeze along,
It mixes with the choral song,
At eve throughout the valleys ringing,
From pious voices' solemn singing.

Now homeward trips the village maid,
Her daily labors over,
And timid fawns but half afraid,
Sniff at her load of clover,
Till bolder soon, 'tis quite a treat
From out our hand to see them eat.
" Home," cries the boy, Oh home, let's take 'em,
And my dear playfellows I'll make 'em."

W HEN Spring's soft breath sets free the rills, Yet though the snow amidst the brook
And melts the Winter's hoards of snow, Is gliding fast-it fain would stay,
How fast they leap down the hills, And as it takes a lingering look,
How wildly t'wards old ocean flow! Says:-" Listen ere I flow away!

Jack Frost! we gladly part with thee, Soon as Spring spoke its royal word,
For long indeed thy iron hand I humbly doffed my wintry cap-
Hath crushed the flowers relentlessly But when the north wind's voice was heard,
That longed to brighten all the land. I covered up the earth's' green lap.

And now the busy plow can trace "And gently swathed each baby flower,
Its furrows through the fallow ground, As snug as in a feather bed-
While countless lovely blossoms grace Until in field, and wood, and bower,
The blooming fruit trees all around. Their fragrance might be safely shed.

"." And now my snowdrops gaily ring
A merry peal to herald May-
And all rejoice at coming Spring,
While I must hasten far away!"

STERN Winter-most unwelcome guest!- And there they gather moss to form
The earth in whitest robes has drest ; Their children's bed all soft and warm,
And hast'ning through the crunching snow, And dried up twigs to make a blaze
With tinkling bells, the sledges go. That cheers the hearth with kindling rays.

The leafless wood looks drear and sad, Their treasures next the ashes yield,
No birds sing now with voices glad ;- And hot potatoes lie revealed,
But boys are romping far and wide, Which little hungry mouths invite,
And o'er the ice delight to slide. With dainty smell and welcome sight.

When on the panes with frost encased, Lord! all Thy ways are great and good!
The mimic fir-trees may be traced, Thou giv'st e'en orphaned birds their food-
In spite of biting cold and snow, Thy blessing and Thy fostering care
Poor housewives to the forest go. Alike the hut and palace share !

PUT on your hat and let us take The cows are browsing pastures green,
A stroll amidst the rural scene- The herdsman's horns the echoes wake,
The boat is gliding o'er the lake, And holiday like Nature's self we'll make !

Into the garden next let's come While all around, on fragrant beds,
To pluck a pear or downy plum, The flowerets lift their little heads,
And hear the bird's sweet trilling- The air with perfume filling.

The merry kid is leaping gaily, While all our tastes to please,
And soberer Nanny gives us daily His nets the busy fisher flings,
Sweet milk to make us cheese; And eels and carp for dinner brings.

(See Page iog.)
Under the Sanction of His Royal Highness.

Dr. RUSSELL. Illustrated by SYDNEY HALL, M.A. In one vol. 8vo, cloth
extra. $3.00.


One vol., cloth, $1.7S

* / y /< %
-- ~ i ,

.fi- ., ,'** ** : *'
>1 ^T .-:

jiJ:7 '

:..i" ... ._. at

iC I -. - -. ... --116 1
7 :

i .

1 4j . "...

I. A V;

% r9, f
3 Wild.,


LA ml A,