Citation
At the fireside

Material Information

Title:
At the fireside one hundred original stories for young poeple
Creator:
Brine, Mary D
Brine, Mary D ( Mary Dow ) ( Author )
Douglas, Marian, 1842-1913 ( Author )
France, L. A ( Author )
Bell, Annie Douglas ( Author )
Hatheway, M. E. N ( Author )
Hall, G ( Author )
Sanford, D. P. ( Author )
Johnson, Margaret ( Author )
Dayre, Sydney ( Author )
Crampton, T ( Author )
Bates, Clara Doty, 1838-1895 ( Author )
Carey ( Author )
Prescott, Mary N ( Mary Newmarch ), 1839?-1888 ( Author )
Lowrie, R. W ( Author )
Church, Frederick S ( Frederick Stuart ), 1842-1924 ( Illustrator )
Carey, William de la Montagne ( Illustrator )
Shelton, W. H ( William Henry ), 1840-1932? ( Illustrator )
Barnes, Culmer ( Illustrator )
Mozart, W. J ( Illustrator )
Sheppard, William Ludwell, 1833-1912 ( Illustrator )
Tucker, Elizabeth S ( Illustrator )
Taylor, William Ladd, 1854-1926 ( Illustrator )
Hopkins, Livingston, 1846-1927 ( Illustrator )
Merrill, Frank T ( Frank Thayer ), b. 1848 ( Illustrator )
Hassam, Childe, 1859-1935 ( Illustrator )
Miller, Francis ( Illustrator )
Hayden, Parker ( Illustrator )
Share, H. Pruett ( Illustrator )
Humphrey, Lizbeth Bullock, b. 1841 ( Illustrator )
Dale, Daphne ( Editor )
Elliott & Beezley ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
Chicago ;
Philadelphia
Publisher:
Elliott & Beezley
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
153 p. : ill. ; 21 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Children's poetry ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1890 ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1890 ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1890
Genre:
Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Illinois -- Chicago
United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Frontispiece printed in colors.
Statement of Responsibility:
by Mary D. Brine, Marian Douglas, L.A. France, Annie D. Bell, M.E.N. Hatheway, Mrs. G. Hall, Mrs. D.P. Sanford, Margaret Johnson, Sydney Dayre, T. Crampton, Clara Doty Bates, Mother Carey, Mary N. Prescott, R.W. Lowrie, and others ; with original illustrations by F.S. Church, W.M. Carey, W.H. Shelton, Culmer Barnes, W.J. Mozart, W.L. Sheppard, Miss E.S. Tucker, W.L. Taylor, L. Hopkins, F.T. Merrill, F. Childe Hassam, Francis Miller, Parker Hayden, H. Pruett Share, Miss L.B. Humphrey, and others; edited by Daphne Dale.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
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:
026619642 ( ALEPH )
ALG3570 ( NOTIS )
181343828 ( OCLC )

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Full Text






fered













on























AT THE FIRESIDE:

One Hundred Original Stories
for Young People.

BY

MARY D. BRINE, MARIAN DOUGLAS, L. A. FRANCE, ANNIE
D. BELL, M. E.N. HATHEWAY, MRS. G. HALL, MRS. D. P.
SANFORD, MARGARET JOHNSON, SYDNEY DAYRE,

T. CRAMPTON, CLARA DOTY BATES, MOTHER
CAREY, MARY N. PRESCOTT, R. W. LOWRIE,

AND OTHERS.

WITH ORIGINAL ILLUSTRA TIONS.

BY

F. S. CHURCH, W. M. CARY, W. H. SHELTON, CULMER BARNES,
W. J. MOZART, W. L. SHEPPARD, MISS E. S. TUCKER, W. L.
TAYLOR, L, HOPKINS, F. T. MERRILL, F. CHILDE
HASSAM, FRANCIS MILLER, PARKER HAYDEN,

H. PRUETT SHARE, MISS L. B. HUMPHREY,

AND OTHERS.

KRDITBD BY
DAPHNE DALE.

he.
beri

CHICAGO anp PHILADELPHIA:

BRLLIOTT & BRBALEY.
1890.



COPYRIGHT 1890,

ELLIOTT & BEEZLEY.



Title.
AT THE FIRESIDE,
Berar Story, A,
y BOWSER, -

vBasy Buar, Tus,

vBue with A Mask, THs,

yBrrtiz's Barn,

BECALMED AT SEA,

BASKETFUL OF SWEETNESS,

“BEpro, gi

Cuaneeru. Herry,
CatTcHING THE COLT,

VYDUKE AND THE KIrren,
First Birrupay, THs, -
vFREDpDIE's Puzz.R,

Fry Away, Lirriz Brrps,
vyGoING To THE GOLDEN WEDDING,
Goinc AFTER THE Cows,
/GRANDPA Lynn's Picture,
~Goat IN TROUBLE, A,

/How Birps Use THEIR Bins,

How Two Braves Kepr House In & Suox,

OF CONTENT

vHow THE Bears HeLpep ONE ANOTHER,
Hovsss £or Rent,

¢Hurpie Race, THE,
“Hear Us Sine, aaoee Us Syenctl

lines u
vVInsects’ WINGS,
Ly tHe Lang,

, JEALOUS Lirrie Doe, Ta,

Kurtte’s Pre,
vUILy’s GARDEN,
yLost AnD Founp,

~LIZziB, THE HLEPHANT,

viirtLe Miss Jostx,
Lerrer to Moruer Nature.

Â¥ Movine Day,



Author,
John D. Long. -
Clara Doty Bates.

C. Bell. 4 ee

Grace C. Fisk. .
Mrs.G. Hall. .
Olea) as
Alice Spicer. ks
Mary D. Brine.

‘Jennie S. Hudson.

Marian Douglas. -
L. A, France.
Margaret Johnson.
Annie D. Bell.

AM. H.N, ave

hele S Se Z
Mary D. Brine. -
RWwL. . 2
oe aa
Mrs. G. Hall.

“Aunt Dewsy,’ -

_T. Crampton. :

LL. A. Franee. =

Mrs. D. P. Sanford.

L. A. B.C. - 2
Sydney Dayre. -
Mrs. G. Hall. =
L. A. France. e
C. M. . E "

Mary N. Prescott.
Mother Carey,

T. Crampton. =
MATES eee 2
Sydney Dayre. -

Mrs. D. P. Sanford.



4 TABLE OF CONTENTS.

Tiue.

/ Mrs. Humrne-Birp, - us 5
Moon-Ciots, THs, iS e ie
MorniInG-GLORIES, 33%,
New Yaar, THs, os a s

VNew Basy, THE, rs a a
OnLy a CHICKEN, es 3 Z

VON THE Beacu, a te

Ou! THosz Wasps, - u s
Our May-Day at THE SournH, i

Y PUMPEIN-STALK FLutx, THs, i
Pars py THE River, THE, - 3

VPLAYING GYPSIES, ig = =
Powro AND THE Moon, is &
yQurER Prn-Box, A, - ce

y QUEER CONVEYANCES, — g a
RaceEep Jon's THANKSGIVING, i
Reason Wuy, THE, - G a

vy SAVED FRoM Freezing to DeatH, -

y SNOWBALL AND THE LOBSTER, a
Sap, z sf s a i
SNOWING, - ss a a 3
Sroruy Day, A, - = 2 i
Syow-Brrps, i 5 : u
SUMMER, . s g x

VSANTA CLAUS’S Lerrer, ieee

/SELFISH GIRL, THE, _ 2 iE

Â¥ TABBY AND JOSEY, a e ie

(Time Texas, . 2 e ©

/THINKING OF ANIMALS, THE, ee
vTwo Ways or REapINe, = &

vy Twenty Lirrte Pountices, - a

v Two Runaways, - 2 i =
VALENTINE, A, 3 as &3
Wuat Mapezt Din, - a ‘
Wit-0’-THE-WIsp, - a @
WHERE? . = f ie

¢ Way Tommy Was In Bun, i Z
vWuat Puss Hearp, -

vWHAT THE (hanes SENT To oO CHIN A,
/WaHERE THE Prerry Paro Lep, -
VYoune Preacuer, THs, 5 2



Author.
A.D. Bell. -

Clara Doty Bates.
Elizabeth A. Davis.
“e ce

Sophie May.
Eugene J. Hali.
Uncle Forrester.

Edward A. Rand.

Ae Oa
Je Ae
Chenry.

Rk. W. Lowrte.

Blorenve B. Pleat 2
Lavinia S. Goodwin.

Kham.
Mary D. Brine.

Mrs. F'. Greenough.

Liffie Rodgers.
Sydney Dayre.

Elizabeth A. Davis.

Mary E. Gellie.

Mary Bloom.
C. Emma Cheney.
HT. L. Charles.

Mrs. G. I. Hopkins,

Faith Wynne.
Mrs. G. Hall.
Aunt Nell. _
Li. S. Tucker.
Emily H. Miller,

Clara G. Dolliver.

M other Carey.

Mary N. Prescott.

Florence B. Hallowell.
Mary N. Prescott.
Kate Tannatt Woods.
Mrs. F. T. Merrill

R. W. Lowrie.



Subject.
Tue FLEET, &

LIn.iz AND THE Cat,
Waat Maser Drp,

Cuancerut Herry,

“Sus Caveat Her Arron Fun or Snow,”

On tHE Bracn, -

THE Swow-Brrps,

COLORED PLATES.

Fry Away, Lirrtie Brrps, -

In THE SWING, -
Two RuNAWAYS, - —

LirrLe Brossoms,

VINe

Artist.

Page.

Frontispiece.

C. Barton Barber. i

TB.

C. Lobrichon.

LI. B.

W. S. Coleman.

ie
38
51
69
79
87
99
131
143
149



Yet OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Ys

Ie
Sy

|

Subject. Artist. Page.
*“ Awp Hearty anp Heart Fuasm att Actow,” #.H.G. Sti sa 9
“Aun, You Naveuty Dog, You’rz Jzarous!” £#.9. Church . Simineo
‘A Pan oF Breap AND Minx BrrorE Him,” . W. M. Cary. i - 47
“A Cross Otp LozstEr,” s 2 is . W.H. Shelton. . . 49
“ A Tartt-Precs,” i i t 2 a he coe - 60
“ Ary Went to TERRIBLE Suen” i a ‘s Mes ies hoo
“A Wark Ourin roe Woops,” - i . Culmer Barnes. . iGO
A Stormy Day: Ar THE Hoven, - i . W.J. Mozart. - LN aS
Hs “On tee Riven, - _ 2 a a i eS
os “ON THE OcEAN, - = s a 8 LS
‘““A Bra Watter FoR HeRsELF,” = _ i - W.L. Sheppard. - - 104
“A VALENTINE,” i a i a . Miss E. 8. Tucker. . 106
“ Awp Lemonave SHoutp Busse Up,” - . L. Hopkins. : - 116
“Awnp Barks at THE Moon,” - . Parker Hayden. - eae
“ Art Nustiep Down ’mip Buanxets Tere,” Jessie McDermott. _ 128
“ Bor Turvy Liven in tHe Parx,” i _ W.M. Cary. u ae 20)
“ Brrps Do Not Have Hanns,” _ i . Culmer Barnes. - eG.
* Bowser Hap a Set or New SHOES,” _ _ HT. Scharstein. — _ Shae
“ Brrorg Tory Manz Any Mors,” Ge VW Lay lore ie eS
* Beppo Was A Donkey,” _ k _ W.H. Shelton. - ea l25,
“ Crosz Urow Him Was THE OLD Ran,” z sa ff : ae
“CovereD Her Urpin a Trny Bap,” - . L. Hopkins. GaN ees by
“ CovERED wiTH Great Waurre Liures,” _ FLT. Merrill. — - Hues Oi
“Hprrn Emprrep It Over Her Heap,” _ _ Miss E. 8. Tucker. HOS
“ EMBARKED Upon His Breap-Tray Brie,” . F&F. T. Merrill. i . 96
“For Rent: Apply Wirain,” = - i EU MEeE a ylor an 2) - 64
“ FLUTTER THE FLAKES oF SNow,” ~ 2 . EH. A. Garrett. — - ain ral ie
“Pry Away, Lirrtz Brirps,” : 2 . LF. Childe Hassa.. _ 98
“Four Rosy-CHEEKED Lirrie Grris on Hs Back,” W. H. Shelton. _ - 126
“¢ How Dare You?’ He SHouren,” é . Francis Miller. . a eile)
“Hu Szizep THE NEWFOUNDLAND,” id . H. P. Share. ss . 38

“He Fer StRanGELY TrrED AND CoLp,” . W.H. Shelton. . . 40



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

1 Subject. Artist.

“He Just Caveat Hoxp of tae Tart,” . W.H. Sheltouw. -
“He Fewt Dyro a Pre,” = E . - Culmer Bers. i
“Hortp on Tieut aT THE Top,” = _ Z S ae :

‘‘ FAVE YOU SEEN THE BEAUTIFUL DRAGON-FLIES 2 Weer Taylor. 3
“Tip Sat on THE EpaE or THE Tus,” _ - FLT. Merrill. _
“He SirowLy Sxoox His Empry Har,” ~ E - e “
“Hear Us Stnc,—Sze Us Swine,” a . Miss E. 8. Tucker.
“Trl Were Onty a Kirren,” _ 2 . Miss C. A. Northam.
“T ve Gor Onz,” io i _ és _ Culmer Barnes.

“JT Am Waritrne You a Lerrer,” - . . LL. Hopkins. z
“Ipa Founp Hers SwEer anp Juicy,” - . Miss B.S. Tucker.
“Ts Your Dott Prerry Wen?” _ . - Miss L. B. Comins.
‘“ JoHNNIE Gave Her 4 Saucer or Ming,” . W.L. Taylor. -
“Let Us Grinp Our Frnerr-Natrts,” _ . Miss B.S. Tucker.
‘‘ Lirtte CHILDREN, Don’t You Hzar?” - Miss L. B. Humphrey.
“LOADED, IN THE Woops,” _ a ¢ z a .
“My Litrre Marearet Sits Me Nu AR,” ee Le Ga s
“My Kirry Is a QuapRUPED,” —_ Ee Wa hay lore

“Maser Lay on THE Froor wire Her Boox,’ ’ Miss L. B. Humphrey. -

“Morninc-GLoRIES,” _ = 2 2 . Parker Hayden. .
“Mamma Was GRIEVED,” _ c és - William St. J. Harper.
“Mounrep on THE Hen’s Back,” - : . F.S. Church. :
“Mistress Cackie Lavewine,” . . . _ Jessie McDermott.
“Mary Loves Her Brorger Now,” e . Miss L. B. Comins.
“OnLy THE CHICKADER Cuirnrups His Sone,” ££. A. Garrett. .
“On a Sroon, AND THat Was His Punert,” . Francis Miller. -

“O Trp, Here’s a Lerrer,” ‘ X . William St. J. Harper.
“PrEasE, WILL-o’-THE-WISP,” _ z _ W.L. Taylor. -
“Ran Hur Frnezrs Over tHe Pace,” - - Miss L. B. Humphrey. -
“Sne Frew Back to Her Nust,” _ e ._ Culmer Barnes. -
“Sue RAN TO THE PLace,” _ us Bs . A. Buhler. - =:
“Sue Founp 4 DaNDELION,” : : - Chas. Copeland. -
“Sometimes He Suowep His Savace Naturg,” W. M. Cary. :
“Sranpine Erect, Hz Wovutp WaLK Arounnwus,” “ :
“Sue Becan to Poxr Ir wir OnE Paw,” _ Culmer Barnes. -

“ SoMETHING FOR THE Poor Cuina CHILDREN,” Francis Miller.

“Sip anp Dory Tatxep It Over,” e . FF. Childe Hassam.

“Sue Hap Caveut Her Cuarn on 4 Rat,” - W. M. Cary.

Page.
40
60
61
83
89

112
180
12
45
116
128
139
33
74
93
117

33
67
. 92
109
118
134
140
53
103
110°
37
67
23
24
43
46
47
66
76
81
133



8 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Subject. Artist.

“ ScrEAMING, RunNrING, Tossinc up THEIR Arms,” H. P. Share. E
“Tue Man Lirrep Him vp Tusre,” —- _ W.L. Sheppard. .
“THE Kirre Dp Pur Its Paw we

: Toten. Hoe = = < : } VGN Cony. az
“Tere Darntrest Lirrne Hummine-Brrp,” . Culmer Barnes. -
“Tuer Bitts Are Usrrun ro Toem,” - a & ss -
“THE Duck Turusts His Brut Down,” i oe iH s
“'Trat WALK BY THE RiIvEr’s Srp,” _ . EE. Parker Hayden.
“"T wing Make You 4 Nick Nzst,” 2 _ FF. Childe Hassam.
“Toe Bear Curtep up Crosr to Hur,” _ W.M. Cary. “

“Tre Two Kirrens HAD BEEN Ensovine A Nap,” W. H. Shelton. -
“Titre ENJOYED JUMPING INTO A TUB af L. Hopkins

WATER,” — _ i 2 E 2 ;
“Tus Heap Was Fvit oF Pins,” - 5 - Ellen Oakford. .
“Tare Poor Lirrne Heap Hap ro pe Suaven,” Miss EF. 8. Tucker.
“Twenty Lirrte Pouticss,” s cs K oi &
““THry WERE SITTING BY THE OPEN Free,” . Miss C. A. Northam.
aes PusHED THE Boat AWAY FROM ree Hepes Millopone

HORE, 7 2 Z Piniyne
sf aes Was CALLED FROM THE COASTING W. L. Taylor. ne

Tons sf : . 4 3
“TrrouaH Country Langs,” a a . FF. Childe Hassam.
“Two DreapFUL Gypsigs CAMEIN,’ = -_ _ FT. Merrill.
“Tae Doctor Took Houp or toe Trung,” _ W. H. Shelton. —
“Tur SHEEP TuErR Compantons at Phay,”? . E.P. Hayden. -
“To tHE END or THE LANE,” 2 - W.L. Sheppard. .—
“Tae COMING OF THE CRANES,” . FF. S8. Church.
“Took His PicrurE on THE Sty,” 2 . I. G. McCutcheon. —
“THe Rack Course Was a Drrcu,” 2 . FLT. Merrill. -
“Two LirrLe GIRLiEs,” e : . Jessie McDermott.
“THreE Lirrte Grriies, ALL so SounD ASLEEP,” “ i
“Tien Way For CHILDREN To Treat Wasps,” HA. P. Share. eS
“Up Spoke Sweet Eprru, Sirtrine Tours,” .- W.L. Taylor. .
“Went to Ske Waar THE Brrapres Hap Donn,” F. Childe Hassam.
““WaueEre Is tHe Honry-BEn?”. _ e . &. H. Garrett.
“Wirn TuHrrr Hanns Besinp Terr Backs,’ Miss H. S. Tucker.
“We Witt Have a Drumming Marca,” . £F. Childe Hassam.
“ Wirnout Him Jonnnie Coutp Nzver Go,” _ W.L. Taylor. -
“Yer Tommy Was in Bzp,” a z - Miss EL. 8. Tucker.

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tyight all bg che firelight's eek
oe ia spi near, i
yd. be ane tellof things that ae

? av ih as is ist like her.’



























|
b, little li ps ai Lovech the od
OF aie sad veijemerings s
a ond hear th elelaer flash llayt
=| a Vuady bints of | ongane. Mi
| if ‘\t
F at rpy father’s fireside sik = \5
i iy oungest of all who circle it,
i i Fad heg hin tell me what did Jye;
When he tie Little jest. Uke 4p











































































































rah,
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a at sonia

DY on ln





Tle Sa al

a M pe SS Mins HU, Yip WSs eae

\ e An zi Bn i} EG

Van 3 4 aoe ie e
“gy / ae i S Oy if







AT THE FIRESIDE.

TE 1".

Ir I were only a kitten,
How jolly and nice ’t would be
To play about in the sunshine
And run up the tallest tree!

I never should hem the towels
Nor sew any buttons on ;

I never should have to stay in school
Till the brightest hours were gone.

Sometimes, though, I should be busy
_ Making a marble roll,
Or sitting, if I were hungry,

To watch by a mouse’s hole.

But if I were feeling lazy,
I’d curl myself in a ball,

And lie all day by the fire,
With nothing to do at all.



12 ; IF.

But, dear! I had ’most forgotten, —

If I were only a cat,

I could n’t be mamma’s girlie.

Now, what do you think of that!





























































































































lle rork ands iellectnay: bravely
Always, to hear her say:
“My own little darling daughter,

You have been good to-day.”
| , : SYDNEY DAYRE.





MOVING DAY.



MOVING-DAY.

Jamie Brigut was four years old when his father and mother moved
toanew home. The old home, where Jamie was born, was just in
the edge of the woods. Jamie had played in and out among the
trees ever since he could walk alone.

Now Jamie’s father was going to keep the store, up oe the Green,
and a small house near the store was to be their home. Jamie’s
mother was sorry to leave the old home; she and sister Katy wiped
their eyes often on the moving-day. But Jamie thought it was
great fun to move, and he was full of glee.

Father went up to the new house on that day, to get it ready.
Then a man came with an ox-cart to take the beds and chairs and
all the other things. ae

When the load was piled on, mother and Katy set out to walk
through the woods, by a short path, to the new house. They had a
corn-basket between them; the cups and glass things were in the
basket. Mother called, “ “Sn Jamie, you can go with us!”

“ Oh, no,” said Jamie, “I must go after the cart, and take care of

the things !”
His mother laughed. She ead “Tt is a long way round by the

road; you will be tired!”
ih Best let him go,” said the man who aoe the team; “ we need

him to look after the load !”
So the oxen started off at a slow pace, and Jamie followed the

cart. His mother’s brass kettle hung out at the back of the load,





14 : MOVING-DAY.

from the end of the mop-stick. The kettle kept swinging as the cart
jogged on. Jamie watched it all the time lest it should fall off.

He stubbed his toe and fell down twice, because he was looking
up at the cart; but he did notery; he was a man that day! At
last the man who drove saw that the small man was tired. So he
said, ‘See here, youngster; can’t you sit up on this feather-bed,
and see that the oxen keep the road ?”

There was a eon nest, vase, ‘big enough for Jamie, between two













































































































































































































































chairs. The man lifted him up there; it was a nice place. “In five
minutes Jamie was sound asleep.
- When. they came to the new house the man lifted him down, and
said, ‘“Here’s the young man who took care of the load!”
Jamie had had such a good nap that he was all ready to help put
the new house in order.

ay:

MRS. D. P. SANFORD.



RAGGED: JOE'S THANKSGIVING 15















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THANKSGIVING was Freddy fay? Ss birthday: hed, with: his: ‘ttle
sister, Eunice, had just gone out to try his new sled, when his
father called him to do an errand. “ Leave’ Eunice to: play with
Rob Roy,” he ee (Rob Boy was the sled’s came), 7 a return | as
soon as you can.’

It is not pleasant to be sent away when about to try a new: sled.
But Fred did not allow such things to vex him. He ran off laughing,
and in about ten minutes he came round ‘the corner again, panting
in his race. Then he saw something that made his heart thump.

There stood little Eunice, white with snow, and with the tears
streaming down her rosy cheeks. By her side, ‘holding the: sled,
was a boy; and such a ragged boy! He seemed to’ “wear more
holes than clothes. His bare toes peeped out, of his shoes. He was
pale and thin. You would say he did not know what. turkey was.

Fred ran up to him. “How dare you,” he shouted, “ push my
sister into the snow, and take my new sled!” The boy began to
cry. Then Fred noticed his pinched face. He drew back; he had”
learned to govern his temper. “s Be



16 . DUKE AND THE KITTEN.

“ Oh, you didn’t mean it, I think,” he said.

“No, I didn’t,” cried the boy; “but I did want a coast so much.
I never had a sled. And the little girl held on so that I pulled her
over. Don’t strike me, please! I didn’t mean any harm, and I
will drag her on the sled if you will let me.”

This was too much for Fred. He pitied the poor, eager boy.
“So you may drag her, and have a coast too if you like!” he cried.
And he ran into the house to report to his father.

Now Mrs. Ray had watched the whole scene. I will not tell what
she thought, or how she found out about ragged Joe, for that was
the poor boy’s name.

All is, at dinner Fred broke the wish-bone with his father. “TI
wish Joe had a sled, too,’ he cried.

“And I wish,” said his father, “that my Freddy may always act
like a little man, as he did to-day.”

And I must tell you that, after dinner, Fred found ragged Joe in
the kitchen. He had a great basket of goodies, and Fred’s old sled
to draw them home with. It was a happy day for Joe when he first
saw the Rob Roy. So it was for Fred too, for he became more of a

little man than ever.
KHAM,



DUKE AND THE KITTEN.

Dvxe was a large black and white dog. He had long ilky ears
and large bright eyes. When he was a pup, he was so full of mis-
chief that his mistress used to say, “We really shall have to send
Duke away ; we cannot have any peace of our lives while he stays
here.’ Somehow Duke was never sent off. Every one thought too



















DUKE AND THE KITTEN. 19

much of him. Even his mistress, for all she scolded him, would
have been sorry to have him go.

Duke was very fond of a little yellow kitten, and the kitten was
fond of him. Although Duke teased the kitten, he was very careful
not to hurt it, and they had some lively times together.

They used to play hide-and-seek together. The kitten would
run under an ottoman; it came so close to the floor that there was



just room for the kitten to get under. Duke would le down and
put his head close to the floor. The kitten would stick out its yellow
paw, and Duke would try to catch it; after a while the kitten would
run out, and they would play up and down the walks.

Sometimes the kitten-would run under the porch and put its paw
up through a hole in the floor. Duke would come and put his paw
on it; then the kitten would put its head up, Duke would take
its head in his big mouth, pull it up through theâ„¢hole, and carry it

around the garden. They both seemed to think it fun.
L. A. FRANCE.
2



A BEAR-STORY.,

“J xyow a new bear-story,”
I said to the little folks,

Who surely as the twilight falls,
Begin .to tease and coax.





















































































































































































| “And did they live in the forest,

| In a den all deep and dark?

| And were there three?” —“ Yes, three,” I said,
: “But tuey lived in the park.

“Tet’s see! Old Jack, the grizzly,
With great white claws, was there;

And a mother bear with thick brown coat,
And Betty, the little bear!





A BEAR-STORY. 21

“And Silver-Locks went strolling
One day, in that pretty wood,

With Ninny, the nurse, and all at once
They came where the bears’ house stood.

“ And without so much as knocking
To see who was at home,

She cried out in a happy voice,
‘Old Grizzly, here I come!’

“ And thereupon old Grizzly

Began to gaze about;
And the mother bear sniffed at the bars,
_ And the baby bear peeped out.

“ And they thought she must be a fairy,
Though, instead of a golden wand,
She carried a five-cent paper bag
Of peanuts in her hand.

“Old Grizzly his red mouth opened
As though they tasted good ;

And the brown bear opened her red mouth
To catch one when she could;

“And Betty, the greedy baby,
Followed the big bears’ style,
And held her little fire-red mouth,

Wide open all the while.

“ And Silver-Locks laughed delighted,
And thought it wondrous fun,

And fed them peanuts from the bag
Till she had n’t another one.

“And is that all?” sighed Gold-Locks.
“ Pshaw, is that all?” cried Ted.
“No—one thing more! "Tis quite, quite time
That little folks were in bed!”
CLARA DOTY BATES.





MRS. HUMMING-BIRD.

Owe day grandpa said to Harry and Ida, “Children, if you will
come out while I am picking peas to-morrow morning, you will see
something very pretty.” That was all he would tell them.

They kept wondering about it every little while through the day,
and made mamma promise to wake them early. I was a little curi-
ous, myself, to know what could be there at six o’clock in the morn-
ing, and at no other time.

The children were very wide awake at the appointed hour,
and full of fun. Grandpa said they must be quiet, or they would
frighten away his little pet.

“Won’t you tell us what it is, grandpa?” cried Beary,

“Do tell us, grandpa!” chimed in Ida.

Grandpa smiled, with a teasing look in his eyes, and said, ‘Oh,
you will soon find out for yourselves, if her royal highness favors us.”

He had been at work only a few minutes, and was whistling softly
to himself, when out flew the daintiest little humming-bird! Her
nest was in a quince-tree just beyond the fence.

At first she was very shy, and did not alight; but her wings
quivered in the sunshine, and showed the lovely colors. She flashed
around like a bit of a rainbow, and the children were wild with

delight.

—_



Ms. HUMMING-BIRD. 23 |

Grandpa pretended not to see her, and soon she gained more
courage. Then she flew back to her nest, and called her two young
ones. They had just begun to use their wings, and the mother-bird
coaxed them along to the pea-vines.

The children had a good look at them then. They were about as
large as a bumble-bee, only slimmer in the body. Their feathers
had begun to grow, and they seemed like a mixture of red and
green and gold. ;

The mother-bird flew away, and left her little ones near grandpa,
as if she knew he would keep them from harm. Ina few minutes
she was back again, her bill laden with sweets, which she fed to the
birdies.

She did this several times. Then she gave a little call, and flew
towards the nest. The birdies soon followed her.

Grandpa said she helped the little birds along ue her bill the
first morning she came.

The children were delighted with grandpa’s pet. They had

never seen a humming-bird before, and to have one so near was an
inducement for them to wake up early.
Mrs. Humming-bird came every morning until the little ones were

able to fly away, and grandpa’s peas were all picked.
A. D. BELL.

















































































































































































































































la

THE PUMPKIN-STALK FLUTE.



























Freppre Brown had a present on his last birthday. When he
went out into the barn he found a little calf only a few hours old.
Mr. Brown thought it must be meant for his little boy, as it came
on his birthday. Freddie was glad to have a calf for his own.
Every day he thought of some new thing he should buy with the
money, when she had grown to be a cow and he could sell her



THE PUMPKIN-S TALK FLUTE. 25

milk. He made such a pet of the calf that she soon knew him, and
learned to. follow him about.

It was hard work to find a good name for the pet. A great many
had been thought of, but none of them seemed to be just right.
One day Bossy followed Freddie into the kitchen. Mrs. Brown was
making cookies. The calf stood looking at her, as though she were
trying to find out just how much sugar, butter, and flour were used.
Mrs. Brown laughed, and said Fred ought to call the calf “ Yankee,”
she was so inquisitive and independent. That just suited Freddie,
and so Bossy got a name. —

Some days Yankee stayed in the pasture with her mother. Then
she seemed to miss her little playfellow. Her mother was too old
and grave to frolic much. One day, when she was feelig lonesome,
Yankee thought she heard another calf not far away. She was glad
to have company, and ran to the place where the sound came ot
There she found, not another calf, but her little master with a neigh-
bor friend. She stood looking at them a long time.

Freddie had cut a sien lent, and ee! it down close to the
stem, until it looked like this: ei

He made a slit about an inch long in the stem near the top.
Then he put it into his mouth so far that the slit was covered, and
blew. This made the noise Yankee had mistaken for another calf.

When Freddie was tired of that sound, he cut a little round hole
near the other end of the stem, and blew again. This time he made
a different noise. When he put his fmger on the hole and blew, he
made the same noise that he did at first. Then be cut more holes,
and found that he could make so many different sounds that he had
quite a good pumpkin-stalk flute.

J. AM.





HOW BIRDS






























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































USE THEIR BILLS.

THe birds do not have hands,
but they have something that an-
swers just as well. Their bills are
as useful to them as your hands are
to you.

They are not all made alike, or
used in the same way. The duck
has a very queer bill. It is made
so because this bird has to find its
food under water.. It cannot see
what it gets, and must feel, instead.

So this bill is filled with nerves
for the purpose. It has a row of
little points, too, all around the
edge, something like teeth. But
how does the duck use it? Let us
see.

When searching for food, it
thrusts this bill down, and brings
it up full of mud. Now in the mud
are the very things the bird lives
upon.

These little nerves tell it just













































































THE PATH BY THE RIVER? 27

2

what is good to eat. What is not good is sent out through these
queer points, just as if it was a sifter. The nerves in this funny
sieve take very good care that nothing shall be lost that is worth the
eating.

You know all about the little birds that build. nests with their -
bills, and what wonderful things they are. Some can sew very well
with their beaks; of course they use their feet too.

MRS. G. HALL.























































































































































































































































THE PATH BY THE RIVER.

Bevis loves that walk by the river’s side,
In summer or in winter time;
~ Great vessels float on tie gentle tide,
And the hill is pleasant to climb.

CHENRY.





THE JEALOUS LITTLE DOG.

My name is Curly. Iam a cunning little cream-colored dog. I
have a long bushy tail that curls wp over my back when I am happy,
and drags in the dust when I am sad.

I am usually pretty happy, for I have a sweet little golden-haired
girl for my mistress. She loves me very dearly; at least, I suppose
she does, from the way she squeezes me, and lets me lick her hands.
Her name is Ivy, and she is so kind to me, that I should never get
cross or sad if it were not for Tom.

T just wish Tom was dead. If I were big enough I would tie him
up ina bag and throw him into the river. Tom is a big white ‘cat
with sharp claws, and an awful appetite for beefsteak. He eats all
the meat that Ivy gives him, and then growls and spits at me till I
give him mine too. Half the time I am sc hungry that I could eat
Tom, hair and all, if he would only lie still and let me; but he
won't. He is just the meanest cat I ever saw.

The worst of it all is, Ivy seems to love him nearly as well as she
does me. She actually hugs him, and calls him her “ Dear kitty ,” and
Ican’t stand it. I always growl at Tom, and try to squeeze myself in





THE JEALOUS LITTLE DOG 29

between him and Ivy; but she says, ‘‘ Ah, you naughty dog, you’re

jealous!”
Jealous! The idea of a handsome, dashing dog, like me, being







Sue
aah

i
WH

jealous of an ugly old cat! I declare, such injustice almost breaks
my heart! Iam going off to lie down under the currant-bush now,

and try to die — if the fleas will only let me lie still long enough.
: C. M.



30 HOW TWO BIRDIES KEPT HOUSE IN A SHOE.





HOW TWO BIRDIES KEPT HOUSE IN A SHOE

THE morning was sunshiny, lovely, and clear,
And two little wrens were both hovering near;
Chirping and warbling with wonderful zest,
Looking for some place to build them a nest.

They searched the veranda, examined the trees,

But never a place could they find that would please ;
Till Mabel, whose eyes were as blue as the sky,
And very observing, their trouble did spy.



HOW TWO BIRDIES KEPT HOUSE IN A SHOE. 31

Then, quick as the thought darted through her wee head,
“T'll help you, dear birdies,” she lispingly said;

“You just wait a minute, I'll give you my shoe;

’T will make you a nice nest, as good as if new.”

With much toil and trouble she undid the knot,
Took off the small shoe, and picked out a spot
Behind a large pillar; there tucked it away;
And soon she forgot it in innocent play.



But the wrens chirped, ““Why, here is a nest ready-made,
In the very best place, too, and quite in the shade!”
They: went to work quickly, without more ado,

To keep house like the woman “that lived in a shoe.”

When evening shades came, at the close of the day,
And dear little Mabel was tired of play,

She thought of the birdies, and went off alone,

To see, if she could, what the birdies had done.

With heads under their wings, the wrens were asleep;
Side by side, in the shoe, they were cuddled down deep;
Then, clapping her hands, Mabel said, “Keep my shoe;

My new ones I'll wear, and this one’s for you.”
“ AUNT DEWBY.”



TABBY AND JOSEY.

Papa was on the back porch smoking a cigar Little John was
playing near by with a pretty wind-wheel papa had made for him.
Across the way two children were holding a yellow-and-white kitten
by the tail. Kitty struggled to get away. By and by she did get
away, and ran to Johnnie’s papa, who stroked her gently, saying,
“Poor kitty! poor kitty!” Johnnie gave her a saucer of milk, and
she ran up and down the piazza for a bit of beef tied to a string.
She lay down to rest after she had swallowed the meat — and part of
the string, which mamma had to pull out of her throat.

“She is such a homely eat, I don’t want her here,” said mamma.

“She is a beauty,” replied papa. ‘‘ Let her stay.”

“She is Tabby Wilson,” said John. Nobody could tell why our
- six-year-old called the new cat “Tabby Wilson,” but she goes by
that name. Tabby Wilson said John’s house was good enough for
her to live in, so she thought she would stay.

When Tabby Wilson had been with John a few days, in walked
a dirty little black-and-white kitten. She was very thin and sick-
looking, and Tabby Wilson flew at her, growling and spitting, with
her paw raised to strike her.

“Let Josey Brooks alone, Tabby Wilson!” screamed J ohn, taking
up the poor little kitten and stroking her.

“T shall not,” mewed Tabby Wilson, and she flew at her. But
John took the new kitten into the kitchen and gave her some milk.
So Josey Brooks and Tabby Wilson became our cats.

After a while Tab and Jo became quite good friends and played
together. John harnessed them to a pasteboard box. “ Get up,” he
cried. “I shall not,” spit Tabby. ‘‘ Nor I, either,” growled Josey.
They ran under a chair and crouched close together. _

“They won't drive, mamma,” whined little John, coming close to
mamma.

“They are ungrateful quadrupeds, then,” said mamma.

“Quadrupeds, mamma, What are they?” asked John, stopping
his whining at once.

“ How many feet has Tabby Wilson?” asked mamma.





LOWSER. 39

John seized Tabby
and counted, ‘‘ One, two,
three, four.”

“Very well,” said
mamma; “if she has
four feet she is a quad-
ruped.”

“ And is Josey Brooks
a quadruped too?”

“Count her feet and
see.”

“Yes, she has four; so
she is a quadruped. But
what am I, mamma? I
have but two feet.”

“You are a_ biped,
dear; so is papa.”

John threw himself on
the floor and kicked his
heels into the air, holding
Tabby Wilson and sing-
ing, “My kitty is a quad-
ruped, quadruped, quad-
ruped; but I am a biped,
biped, biped, biped.”

MRS. G. I. HOPKINS.





BOWSER.

Bowser is only a horse; but he knows how to behave when he
wears his Sunday suit. That is more than some children know.
There are little ones who make mud-pies when they have on their
best clothes. Bowser never does.

Bowser drags a cart on week-days; on Sunday he goes to church
with a buggy. When John puts the heavy harness upon Bowser,



34 , BOWSER.

the horse goes to the cart and backs in. When he is dressed in the
nice buggy-harness, he steps off proudly and gets into the shafts of
the buggy. He does this all alone. He never makes a mistake.

One day Bowser had a set of new shoes. When the blacksmith
put them on, he drove a nail into one of Bowser’s feet. John did
not notice it till they were almost home. When he saw that Bowser
limped a little, he said, ‘I must lead the poor fellow back, when
I get him out of the cart.”

They reached home, and John took off Bowser’s harness. As soon
as he was free, the horse turned about and trotted off. When John
called him, he did not mind. He went straight back to the black-
smith.

‘Hello, Bowser!” cried the blacksmith.

The poor horse said nothing, but he walked up to the man and
held out his aching foot.

Then the blacksmith put the shoe on all right; and he patted

Bowser kindl and said, ‘ You know a great deal for a horse.”
} ? ?
: Cc. BELL.



















































































7 itl

a i :




















“What are those things on the
stream ”
Said the cat-tails, quite un-
able
To make out, until they saw
By the brook-side, little Mabel.



“Ah, we have it!” then they



said,—

“'Tis a funny girl we know,
Broke a scarlet Poppy up,

Just to see the pieces go.

When she gets a little older,

Mamma then will say to
Mabel,

“ Put the scarlet poppies, dear, |

In a vase, upon the table.”



WHAT MABEL DID.
_ Mabel broke a px a

And threw the pee ‘on the
water ;



she played that they were
boats
i off, where toys are

wanted,
Pretty things, enough for
twenty.

Cats and donkeys; balls and
cs spooks, eee ee
nd a jumping“fack so jolly ;
And a pretty, zolcimmel tea-
se
And alittle coach for dolly.
























at







WILL-O’-THE-WISP.

3¢



WILL-O’-THE-WISP.

‘‘ Preasz, Will-o'-the-Wisp,
Don’t hurry away!

The rays from your lamp
Must light my lone way!”

“Ah, poor, little child! -“T dance all night long,-
Return, I entreat! Through blackest morass,

My path is too wild And where my lamp leads
For your tender feet. Your feet cannot pass.”

MOTHER CAREY.



GOING TO THE GOLDEN WEDDING.

PavuL was going to a golden wedding. Grandpa and grandma
had been married fifty years, and the children and grandchildren
were to meet at the old home. What a good time Paul expected !
Would the day never come? At last it dawned. So impatient was



Paul, that his papa allowed him to start’first. As he approached
the station, Paul saw a small dog pursued by a Newfoundland.

“Seize him! Shake him !” roared some idle boys.

“For shame! It is wicked to make dogs fight ! ”

‘Hear the goodie boy! Hear mother’s baby!”

Encouraged by the shouts of the boys, the Newfoundland sprang
upon the small dog.



GOING TO THE GOLDEN WEDDING. 39

“Oh, call him off! He’ll kill him! Stop him!” cried Paul.

“Shake hin! Shake him!” was their reply.

Paul’s temper rose. “I'll part them myself!” he said. Spring-
ing into the street, he seized the Newfoundland and held him firmly,
until his frightened victim had time to slink away.

“Bravo!” called a policeman; and the muttering boys fled.

“Why, why, what is this?” “Our Paul!” cried papa and
mamma. Here Paul’s strength gave way; he let go the Newfound-
land, and began to ery. But the officer told the story, and praised
him so highly for his courageous act that Paul felt like a man.

Following papa and -mamma to the cars, he was quickly forgetting
his adventure, when a noise under his seat caused him to look
down. What do you think was there? The Newfoundland! He
looked at Paul pleadingly, as if to say, “Oh, be my master! Speak
kindly to me; I’ve had blows and kicks all my life. I knew no
better than to fight!”

‘““O papa, may I keep him?”

“Tf no one claims him. But you must never get angry and strike
him; treat your dog as you like to be treated yourself, my boy.”

Paul promised; and could Rover speak, he would say that he had
kept his word: Paul was quite a hero to grandma and his cousins,
and grandpa was so pleased with his namesake that he bought
Rover the handsomest collar he could find. And both Paul and
Rover had great fun at the golden wedding





40 SAVED FROM FREEZING TO DEATH.









































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































SAVED FROM FREEZING TO DEATH.

Wuen Bobby Smart was six years old, he was left to the care of
his Uncle James, who lived in the country. His aunt took him to his
future home, and at the depot he saw his uncle for the first time.

Bobby was lonely and sad; his uncle often treated him with
harshness and even cruelty. The cold winter had come on early.
Bobby was the only boy about the farm, and he had to work
very hard. His clothing was unfit for the winter weather, and he
often suffered from the cold.

Among the duties which this poor boy had to perform was that
of tending a flock of sheep. One afternoon, when there were signs
of a snow-storm, he was sent to drive the flock tu the barn. He
started for the field, but his clothes were so thin that he was be-
numbed by the intense cold. He sat down on a large rock to rest
himself. He felt strangely tired and cold. In a little while he
began to feel drowsy. Then he thought it was so nice and com-
fortable that he would stay there awhile. In avery few moments
he was asleep, and perhaps dreaming. :

Suddenly he was aroused by a tremendous blow which sent him
spinning from his perch on the rock to the ground. Looking about
him, he saw an old ram near by. The creature looked as though he
had been doing mischief, and Bobby was no longer at a loss to



SAVED FROM FREEZING TO DEATH. Al

know where the blow came from; but he thought the attack was an
accident, and in a short time he was again in the land of Nod,

Again the ram very rudely tumbled him over into the snow.
He was now wide awake, and provoked at the attack of the beast.
He began to search for a stick to chastise his enemy. The ram
understood his intention, for he turned upon Bobby as if to finish
the poor boy. Bobby was forced to take to hig heels, and ran
towards home.

The ram chased him, while the rest of the flock followed after
their leader. The inmates of the farm-house were surprised to see
Bobby rushing towards the house as fast ag his little legs would
allow him. His hair was streaming in the wind, and he was very
much terrified. Close upon him was the old ram, kicking up his





























































































































































































































































































































































heels in his anger. Behind him could pe seen a straggling line of
sheep doing their best to keep up. tn

Bobby won the race, however. His uncle came out in time to
turn the flock into the barn. It was a long time before Bobby
would venture near the ram again.

Bobby knows now that but for the efforts of that old ram in
knocking him from his seat on that bitterly cold day he would have
been among the angels in a very short time. The sleepy feeling
which overcame him would have ended in death.

Bobby declares that the ram knew all the time what ailed him,
and that he butted him from the rock on purpose. I cannot explain
it, but do know that “God moves in a mysterious way his wonders

to perform.”
MRS. F. GREENOUGH.





THERE was only a little piece of garden
belonging to Lily’s home in the city. In
the bright spring days she went out there,
and watched to see if any flowers came up.
She felt happy when she found the first
blades of grass.

The poet sings that “‘his heart dances with the daffodils.” Lily’s
heart danced, one morning, when she found a dandelion among the
grasses in her yard, —a real yellow dandelion, with all its golden
petals spread out.

Just then, one of her playmates looked over the fence, and put
out her hand.

“Do give it to me,”

she said. “I sha’ n’t like you a bit, if you
don’t: I shall think you are just as stingy —”

“But it’s all I have,” said Lily; ‘I can’t give it away. I can’t.
Wait till to-morrow, and there’ll be some more out. They ’re grow-
ing. There ’ll be some all round to-morrow or next week.”

“To-morrow! I want it now, to-day,” said her friend, ‘“ to-day ’s
better than to-morrow.”

Lily looked at the child and then at the dandelion. ‘I suppose



LILY’S GARDEN. 43

it would be mean to keep it,” she said, “but it is so lovely — can’t
you wait ?”
“Oh, well, keep it, you stingy girl!”





































































“Come and pick it yourself, then,” said Lily, with tears in her

eyes.
The next day, when Lily went into the yard, there were a dozen
golden dandelions, like stars in the grass, and a little blue violet

was blooming all alone by itself.
MARY N. PRESCOTT.



INSECTS’ WINGS.



THERE is nothing
more delicate than the
wings of insects. They
are like gauze, but they
have a framework that
makes them quite firm,
just as the leaves on the
trees are firm from the lit-
tle ribs that are in them.

These wings are all
covered with hair. You
could see it under the
magnifying - glass, but
not without.

In some small gnats
the hairs spring from
each side of the veins,
like butterflies’ feathers,
or like blossoms on the
twigs in springtime.

Even the wing of a
common fly is very
beautiful. Did you ever
notice that if you take
a butterfly by the wings,
a colored dust is all over
your fingers? Then the
wingsare lefttransparent
where they have been
touched. If you should
put some of this dust on
a slip of glass and ex-
amine it, you would find
that each particle is a

little scale of regular
form and sometimes most beautifully shaped. But the insect flies
just as well without the dust.

wIDOLG J



THE FIRST BIRTHDAY. 45

Besides his regular wings, the fly has others for sails. They are
all lifted by a great number of little tough muscles in his sides,
Thus he moves in the air and darts away. Before he goes he
“»lumes” his wings, just like a bird. MRS. G. HALL.





MUST Tein Sele bya] ec Mts aD) Nae

One little year with its changeful hours,

Blossoming meadows and wintry showers,
Shadow and sun.

Shadow and sun, and rain and snow;

Morning splendor and evening glow;

The flying minutes, — how fast they go!—
And the little year is done.

What has it brought to the baby, pray, —
The princess who holds our hearts in sway?
A queenlier air,
A merrier laugh for lips and eyes,
A deeper frown of grave surprise,
A hundred ways that prove her wise,
And sweet as she is fair.

Kiss her once for the year that is done,
And once for the year that is just begun,

And softly sing, —
“The years that are coming so fast — so fast —
Each brighter and happier be than the last;
And every hour that goes hurrying past,

New gifts to our baby bring!”
; MARGARET JOHNSON.



THE BABY BEAR.

Onz day we stopped at the Hot Springs, about five miles from
Helena, in Montana. When I went into the reception-room, I was
surprised to find a little cinnamon bear, six
weeks old, lying on the sofa. I put my lit-
tle sister, who was about the same age,
beside him, and the bear curled up
close to her and went to sleep.
Before we left, we were in-
vited to go out and
see Master









Bruin — eat
sup-
per. A



large pan of bread and milk was placed before him. He pur his
forepaws into the pan, drew out the ‘pieces of bread and ate them.
Then he lapped the milk..

For a while he was allowed to run all over the house and grounds,



THE BABY BEAR. 4¢

He soon found where the sugar and molasses were kept, and helped
himself so freely that he had to be secured with a chain.

Not long ago Bruin slipped his chain from the pole to which it
was fastened, and climbed
a tree.

The chain caught on a
branch, and he found him-
self hung up in mid-air.
The proprietor of the
Springs heard his cries;
hastening out, he found
Bruin kicking violently,
and striving to reach the
body of the tree.
After a great deal
of trouble the
bear was taken
down, and was
glad to find him-
self once more
on solid ground.

During the
summer we often
called to inter-
view “his Bear-
ship.” After we
knew of his lik-
ing for sweets, we made it a point to take some candy with us.) He
seemed to know us, and to watch for our coming. Standing erect,
he would walk around us, hugging us with his forepaws. Then he
snuffed at each pocket, to find where the sweets were hidden.

Sometimes he showed his savage nature, for he would snap and
snarl if the promised treat was withheld.

When the cold weather caine, Bruin hid away in a large hole for
his winter sleep. He did not show himself again until the warm
days of spring.





































































pee |
H
i

GRACE C, FISK.



48 SNOWBALL AND THE LOBSTER.



h
iy ii

hp YI

oN



















































































Tom had just brought in something in a covered basket. He put

it down on the kitchen floor for a moment. Then he went into the
pantry to see the cook, and taste the fresh crisp doughnuts.

The two kittens had been enjoying a nap in the sunshine on the
wide window-sill. When Tom came into the kitchen, the noise he
made woke them.

Snowball lazily stretched himself and gave a great yawn. Then
he mewed to Kitty that he would like his dinner. He began to
hunt for some mice. Kitty purred that she would go with him
any where.

Snowball was a large white kitten, and wore a blue ribbon around
his neck. Kitty was younger and smaller than Snowball, and
always allowed him to take the lead in their adventures.

Kitty’s coat was gray, and her four legs were pure white. Mary
said she wore white stockings and white gloves.



SNOWBALL AND THE LOBSTER. 49

Snowball and his little sister were walking across the kitchen
floor, to the door. Snowball saw Tom’s basket, and went up to see
what was in it. With his nose he pushed up the lid of the basket.
He found something alive under it. He turned around to call



Kitty to come. In doing so, his tail fell across the now open
basket.

There was a cross old lobster inside the basket. He did not Iike
to have Snowball’s tail in his face; the hairs on it tickled his nose.
So he just caught hold of the tail with his pincers. He gave it a
strong nip, and would not let it go.



50 ' SNOWBALL AND THE LOBSTER.

Poor Snowball mewed piteously, and ran round and round the
kitchen, the lobster and the basket spinning around behind
him.

Seeing the trouble Snowball was in, Kitty gave one frantic
“mew” and ran out the door. She perched in safety upon the
fence.

The luckless Snowball pulled so hard that he drew the lobster
out of the basket. . He ran out into the yard and around the
house, where he was seen by the dog. Watch ran after the flying
lobster.

Tom heard Watch barking loudly, and went out to see what all
the fuss was about. He rescued Snowball from the lobster, and the
lobster from Snowball and Watch, and carried the shell-fish back
into the house.

As soon as Snowball was free, he ran under the house. He
could not be coaxed out all the rest of that day. He lay there,
sadly looking at his poor tail, and licking it from time to time.
Since then he has not seemed at all curious about baskets and

their contents.
EFFIE RODGERS,



“A TAIL PIECE





















CHANGEFUL LIT-
TLE HETTY,
SEE WHAT SHE
IS AT;
NEVER STAYS AT
ONE THING
LONG,
TURNS FROM
THIS TO THAT.



THEN SHE. WRITES
A WORD OR
TWO

OF HER COPY
FAIR;

THEN SHE BLOTS
AND GIVES IT
UP

THEN SHE
COMBS HER
HAIR.

SEW A BIT,
THREADS ©
HER NEEDLE,
THEN
STUDIES FOR A
LITTLE WHILE
' THEN 1S OFF
AGAIN,











TAKES HER SLATE TO CIPHER,





THEN BEGINS TO POUT,



CHANGEFUL HETTY.







HETTY, WITH

‘THAT'S THE WAY TO DO,”





JUST SO WITH HER
DRESSES,
TURNS FROM
BUFF TO
GREEN ;
THEN AGAIN TO
CRIMSON,
WHAT DOES
HETTY MEAN?


















DOES NOT MAKE IT OUT, Mamma says TO YOU,—
SAYS THAT EVERY THING GOES - “TAKE LESS WORK AND DO IT
WRONG ; .














WHERE? 53







































































































































































































































































































































































































WHERE ?

Wuere is the honey-bee ?
Where has the swallow flown %
Only the chickadee
Chirrups his song alone.

Where is the bobolink,
Bubbling with merriment?

What was the road, think,
The gadding fire-fly went?

Whither flew the little wings
Grown in green forest aisles ?
Where are the pretty things
That blossomed miles on miles ¢
MARY N. PRESCOTT.



TILLIE TEXAS.

We have had some funny boarders at our house. Tillie Texas
was about the funniest. She came one hot summer day, dressed in
a heavy black coat.

She was an entire stranger to all of us. She did not look or act
like any one who had ever before been among us. We were very
shy of her at first, and didn’t give her a warm welcome. By and
by we grew to like her and enjoy her society.









What do you suppose she was? A lady? No. A little girl?
No. Ill tell you. She was—a little bear! She was only six
weeks old when caught in Texas, and was sent to our landlady’s
daughter by express. She wore her name, “ Tillie Texas,’ on a
silver necklace. .

Poor little thing! She was too young to leave her mother, and
at first she cried like a baby if she was left alone. The landlady



TILLIE TEXAS. 5D

took her to her own room at night, and covered her up in a tiny bed.
At midnight she would get up and warm a bow] of milk. Tillie would
sit up and clasp her paws around the bowl to hold it steady. Then
she drank all she wanted. After this she would. lie down again and
suck her paw till she fell asleep. She made a humming noise all
the while, that sounded like the buzzing of hundreds of bees.

When she grew older she took great delight in standing in the



wood-shed door and attracting a crowd of boys to the fence. When
she was tired of walking on her hind feet and holding a stick in her
paws, she would go behind the door and close it in the laughing faces
of the children.

Tillie enjoyed jumping into a tub of water on a warm summer
day and splashing it all over herself. The little girls were careful
to draw their dresses close about them if they passed her in the
water; for she was very affectionate, and always wanted to give

them a hug with her wet paws.
FAITH WYNNE.

4



56 A QUEER PIN-BOX.



A QUEER PIN-BOX.

Trotty kept house in the closet of her papa’s library. She had
all her dolls in there, and a little tin tea-set her uncle had given her.
The dolls were all of rubber, except one; this was of wood. It had
been sent to Trotty by an aunt who lived in Michigan, very near
a settlement of Chippewa Indians. The doll had been dressed by
an Indian woman, and its clothes were covered with beads. Trotty
called: it her little Indian boy. She loved him very dearly, in spite
of the fact that she was obliged to whip him a dozen times a day.

But she loved Fanny, her big rubber doll, best of all. Fanny had
lost an arm, and there was a hole where her nose ought to have
been; but Trotty thought her beautiful, and always gave her the
best seat and the best bed in the baby-house.

One evening Trotty was watching her mother dress for a party.

“T can’t find a pin anywhere,” said Mrs. Ray. “It is strange
what becomes of them. I’ve bought paper after paper of them;
but can never find any when I dress.” ;



A QUEER PIN-BOX. 57

“Perhaps Fanny takes them,” said Trotty. “She may have them
in her pin-box.”

Mrs. Ray laughed. “I think not,” she said. ‘Fanny is too good
a child to take my pins.” .

But that night, when Mrs. Ray took Fanny out of Trotty’s arms,



after the little girl was sound asleep, she thought the doll seemed
very heavy about the head. She looked, and found that the head
was full of pins. Trotty had dropped them in through the hole
where the nose ought to have been.

Wasn't that a queer pin-box? .
FLORENCE B. HALLOWELE.



SAD!

THE horses came prancing around to the gate,
And Mabel and Myrtle and May

Went out in the carriage to take the fresh air,
All dressed very dainty and gay.

With ruffles and ribbons and pleatings and puffs,
With gloves and with handkerchiefs too, —
They sat very quietly folding their hands,
As proper young ladies will do.

The horses were jogging quite soberly on,
Behaving remarkably well,

When all on a sudden a mishap occurred,
Most shocking and mournful to tell.

For, watching them slyly from under the hedge,
A threatening enemy sat,

With glowering eyes and with wide-spreading tail, —
A dreadful and fierce-looking cat.

And Rover he bristled, and Carlo he growled,
And then— down the gravelly road
They tore and they dashed and they scampered along,
- Forgetting their dear little load.

They flew over ruts and they bumped over stones,
Then over a wall with a crash,
With carriage and Mabel and Myrtle and May, —

_ And all went to terrible smash.



SAD! 59

The mothers in tears and in grief and dismay
Came weeping and wailing around,

And wringing their hands as they wofully viewed
The ruin and wreck on the ground.



They tenderly gathered the poor little pets,
All battered and tattered and torn,

And dusty and draggled, — did ever yor hear
A story so sad and inion:

But the wise little mothers were quickly at work,
And with needle and thread and some glue
Soon each little dolly was looking as sweet

And lovely as when she was new.
SYDNEY DAYRE.





HOW THE BEARS HELPED ONE ANOTHER.

ps
f

S fen | i i
Fl i “A hel iA

Z fecal



Bos Bruin was a good young oe
bear, that minded what his father
and mother said to him.

“When you take a walk out of the
forest,” said Mr. and Mrs. Bruin to
Bob, “don’t go near those houses.
Men live in them, and they treat
bears very badly.”

“What do they do?” asked Bob.

“Oh,” said Mr. Bruin, “ some-
times they kill us and eat our flesh.
Sometimes they tie a great log to our legs so that we cannot run.”

“ Ah,” said Bob, “but I would bite them.”

“To prevent that, they will tie a great muzzle on your mouth ; so
keep away from them, Bob.”

Bob promised to obey. But one day, while walking outside the:
‘wood, he fell into a pit. He roared so loud that Mr. and Mrs. Bruin
came running to see what was the matter. When they came to the
pit, they saw some nuts, and fruit, and buns, lying on the grass.
So they made a step forward to get these nice things, when down
they went into the pit where Bob was, with the buns and nuts.

They then found that the food had been laid on twigs and leaves
_across the pit, which was dug as.a trap for them to fall into. But
how to get out was the puzzle.



HOW THE BEARS HELPED ONE ANOTHER. 61

After a little while Mrs. Bruin got on top of Mr. Bruin’s shoulders,
and so scrambled out of the pit.

““ Now, Bob, you do the same, and I'll tell you how you may then
help me out.”

So Bob got out of the pit as his mother had done. iY

“ Now,” said Mr. Bruin, “ go to the woods and bring back a stout

a vn SS
eet yy A

vy

NS BE

wane oy
art be 4



branch of a tree.’ They did so, and placed the end at, the bottom
of the pit. << |

“ Now hold the end tight on the top,” said Mr. Bruin, “tnd Til
try and climb up.”

So Bob and Mrs. Bruin held the branch at the top of the pit, and,
Mr. Bruin, who could climb very well, managed to scramble out of \
the pit.

They all went home again to the forest in safety, and had a long
talk about men, and their tricks to catch poor bears in pits. .

T. CRAMPTON.





WHY TOMMY WAS IN BED.

THE sun was shining brightly. It was only two o’clock in the
afternoon, and yet Tommy was in bed. The fact is, he had been
in bed since ten o’clock. Do you want to know why? You
may be sure it was not from choice, for Tommy was. very fond of
playing out doors, and was always the first to get up in the morning.



















































































But he was a very mischievous little boy, and liked to tease his
little playmates. .

“Oh, dear!” said his little sister Edith one day, “I wish my
hair was curly. I like curly hair so much!”

?

“T will tell you how to make it curly,’ said Tommy. “Put
mucilage on it to-night, and in the morning it will be curled tight

to your head.



WHY TOMMY WAS IN BED. 63

Edith was only three years old, and did not know that Tommy’
was teasing her. So that night, after her nurse had put her to bed
and had gone down-stairs, she jumped up and went into the library.
The mucilage was on a desk, and Edith emptied it over her head

and rubbed it in well.
Then she went back
to bed again, sure that
her hair would now be
curly.

Oh, what a little fright
she was when morning
came! Her pretty
brown hair was stuck
tight to her head in a
thick mass. Her mam-
ma tried to wash the
mucilage out; but it
could not be done.
The poor little
head had to be
shaved at: last.

“Tom must be

Tom was found
pile. You may be
found that he was















































































punished,” said mamma.
hiding behind the wood-

sure he cried when he
to be punished.

And that was the reason Tommy was in bed when the sun was

shining. Don’t you think he deserved to be there?

FLORENCE B. HALLOWELL.



HOUSES FOR RENT.





























For rent: a lovely dwelling,
Size, six inches by ten ;
One, I feel sure, would suit

Mr. and Mrs. Wren.

Situation, one of the finest

That can possibly be found: ©
On top of a slender lattice
Full six feet from the ground.







Near this is another man-
sion,
To be let out in flats ;
And it, too, has the recom-
mendation
That it is out of the reach
of cats.

———

























HOUSES FOR RENT. 65

Possession given in April ;
The rents, for all summer long,
Are a very trifling consideration, —
In fact, they are merely a song.

These bargains in country homes
‘Are to the best markets near,

And the price of seasonable dainties
Is very far from dear:

A strawberry or two blackberries
For eating four fat bugs,

And cherries without number
For keeping off the slugs.

Other things are in proportion,
And everything in reason,
From tender lettuce to peaches,
Will appear in its season.

From four in the morning till evening
These houses are open to view ;

And I wish I had a dozen to rent,
Instead of only two.

L. A. FRANCE.





THE THINKING OF ANIMALS.

OP gives to every animal just such
machinery as its mind can use. If it
knows a good deal, he gives it a good
deal of machinery; and if little, he
gives it but little.

Some animals do a great deal of

‘ Sei Wakinn about what they see, hear, and feel;° very
much as you do, only that you know more. Your
dog or cat knows a great deal more than an oyster;
Mercier your pets are given paws and claws and
teeth, for their minds to use.

T once knew a cat that was born in the spring-time after the
snow was all gone. When the first storm came the next winter,







































































































































































































































snow fell in the night and was more than a foot deep. Of course
“Smutty Nose” had never seen it before. When she came out in



TWO WAYS OF READING. 67

the morning, she looked at it with very curious eyes, just as you
would look at anything new; very likely she thought how clean
and white and pretty it was.

After looking at it awhile, she began to poke at it with first one
paw and then the other, several times, to see how it felt. Then she
gathered some up between her paws, as much as she could hold, and
threw it up in the air over her head; then ran swiftly all round the
yard, making the snow fly like feathers wherever she went. Now
do you not believe pussy was thinking and feeling just as you boys
and girls feel when you see the first snow, to know anything about
it? I do. Her mind was very busy in her little brain in these
sports, just as your mind is in your sports; and she enjoyed it, in

her way, just as much.
MRS. G, HALL.



Manet was a good little girl, but she did not like to study. She
told her mother she could walk and talk, and she didn’t want to
read.

Her mother was sorry to hear her little girl talk in that way.



68 TWO WAYS OF READING.

She told Mabel how foolish she would feel to grow up and know
nothing.

Mabel said she would like to learn if it was not such hard ‘work.

One morning Mabel lay on the floor with her book in her hand.
She said, “Mamma, I don’t think other little girls have such hard
times studying.”

‘“‘T know my little girl is not very stupid,” said her mother. “If
you would study your lesson instead of thinking how hard it is, you
would soon get through, Mabel. Put your book away now, and I
will give you a lesson without any book.”

Mabel was delighted to put her book down. She did not know
what her mother could mean. They put on their hats and walked a
great distance. At last they came to a shady yard with a large
stone building in it. Mabel’s mother asked to go to the school-
room. They were taken into a large room. Many little girls were
seated In a row, with books in their hands.

“Now, Mabel,” said her mother, ‘ see how nicely those little girls
study.”

Mabel looked at their books and said, ‘‘ Mamma, they are not
studying, for their books have no letters in them.”

Mabel’s mother then asked for one of the books, and showed it to
her. There were no black letters in the book. Mabel felt the page,
and found that it was rough. Her mother told her it was covered
with raised letters.

The teacher told one of the little girls to read for Mabel. The
pupil ran her fingers over the page, and read nicely. Mabel then
learned that the poor little girls were blind, and could only read by
feeling the letters.

Mabel told her mother that she had enjoyed her lesson without
any book very much, but she was so sorry for the little blind
girls. Her lessons would not seem hard again, when she thought

of them.
AUNT NELL.



KITTIE’S PIE.

—_

She caught her apron full of
snow,
This little girl so spry ;
And went and packed it on a
plate,
To make a frosted pie.

She put it in the oven then,
And when she thought ’twas
done.
She lifted out an empty plate,

And that’s what made the fun.







To go and do tae silly thing,

She was too old by half.
She said, “I wont tell brother
Fred,

*Twould only make him laugh.”



“



SNOWING. 71






















































































SNOWING.

Srowiy down from the low-hung clouds
Flutter the flakes of snow,

Over the country and over the town,
Swept by the winds that blow.

Down, down, down, till the frozen earth
Glitters in dazzling white, —

Till curves, and wreaths, and fleecy plumes
Are hung from every height.

Down till turret and church-spire blend ;
Down till the shadowy trees
ike white-robed guests, with outstretched
arms,
Wait in the wintry breeze.

Down they come in a feathery whirl,
Like sprites in an airy chase,
Till every tiny, separate flake

Has found its resting-place.
ELIZABETH A. DAVIS.



72 TWENTY LITTLE POULTICES.,



i

TWENTY LITTLE POULTICES.

Ir never would have happened if mother had not gone away, and
the twins had not been left by themselves because Hannah was
“preserving,” and if that grindstone had not been left out in the
yard.



TWENTY LITTLE POULTICES.

13

But mother had gone, Hannah was busy, the grindstone was
there, and it did happen, —this naughty thing!
The twins were sitting on the doorstep, eating bread and “’serves”

that Hannah had given them.









































































tes
4 AN i e
My

; H “A
f . HN
f 3 ( Ma —





















————









































TA (Pa:
a Nel ONG
hve Mt vl st re
fi eS yt] tanliyer |
We yi
ES BE \ Ex
| =e 5 =e eS yy
fle oa Ee SoS Ve, }
EE ES ve ee SS rd Z
a cea SS Ce eR ee Des Z
OS OP re I On
Le we SIE iw EE
FETE ANS

It was very warm and quiet, and

there was not a
thing todo. The
bees were busy
enough out there
in the clover ;
but then they
were bees, and
did not know
any better fun
than to work all
day.

Itwas Dell who
began it. She
always did begin
things, and Bell
had to follow.
She finished her
bread first, and
sat trying to
think of some-

thing to play.

Then she saw
that grindstone,
and said, ‘‘O Bell,
let’s grind!”
Bell swallowed
her last bite
quickly, and fol-
lowed Dell to the
grindstone.

Now they did not:seem to remember that some one, mamma per-
haps, had said, ‘‘ Never touch the grindstone, little girls.” Bell did
5



G4 TWENTY LITTLE POULTICES.

begin to remember, when, suddenly, there was ‘Dell turning that
lovely stone with both hands. Of course Bell had to get a knife
and hold it to grind.

They ground two knives, which they got from the kitchen when
Hannah’s back was fneeds Then they ground the hoe till it was
“awful sharp,” and some of the points off the handsaw. Then Bell
said, ‘‘ Let’s grind our fingernails!” They turned the stone, and
held their fingers on it; and at first it felt funny and “ ticklish.”
When they stopped, oh dear !—the tips of every one of those poor
little fingers were sore indeed, for they had ground the skin right
off, and the blood came.

They ran crying to Hannah; and what do you think ae did ?
Why, she put a little poultice of bread and milk on every one of
those fingers and thumbs on each naughty hand.

The twins were so ashamed to have mamma see those hands,
when they had promised to be so good! When she came home at
night, two sorry little girls met her, with their hands behind their
backs; and when she asked “ what was the matter with her birdies,”
they sorrowfully held up those ten — no — twenty little poultices.

E. 8. TUCKER.







RD.

Tury were sitting before the open fire, in the twilight, telling fairy-
stories. Frank had just brought in an armful of locust-wood and laid
it upon the hearth. Suddenly puss, who had been sleeping upon the
rug, waked, and climbed on the locust-wood and listened.

“She hears a mouse in the wainscot,” they said. ‘“ Hush!” All
were silent. Presently puss returned to the rug, and made believe
go to sleep. But she could have had only a cat-nap before she was
scampering over the wood-pile again. A beautiful blue-and-black
butterfly flew up into the warm firelight, as if he had mistaken it
for summer weather.

“T call that a fairy-story,” said the children. ’

Puss had heard the butterfly break the chrysalis.
MARY N. PRESCOTT.



WHAT THE CHILDREN SENT TO CHINA.

Buzz and Bess were at the seashore for the summer. All day
long they played and played until the sun went down. Buzz liked
to play with the little girls; Bess was his sister.

One day they found a boat on the beach. They thought it would
be nice to send it to China. They had heard something about China
being across the sea. Their Sun-
day-school teacher told them of
poor little children, also, “who
lived over the sea.

“Of course they all live in
China,” said Bess.

“Yes, there isn’t any more
over the sea’ but China,” said
Flossie.

“Let us borrow this boat and
send them something nice.”

“So we will,’ said Buzz;.
“something good to eat.”

“Something to keep for ever
and ever,’ added Flossie.

The children all went home to
get something for the poor China
children. Flossie brought a doll and some peaches. Bess had her
little arms full of blocks and books. Buzz brought two old tops, a
Chinese puzzle, and some dong Inuluts:

“Won't they be pleased!” said Flossie, clapping her hands.

“ We must send them a letter,’ said Bess.

“ And write our names,” added Buzz.

Bess ran for some paper.

“You must write it, Hoes for you make the best letters.’ So
Flossie wrote : —



DEER CHInA CHILDERN, — We ar sorry for u and send
u sum of our things. We ays in Boston.
Frossiz May,
Brsstz PARKER,
Buzz PARKER.



WHAT THE CHILDREN SENT TO CHINA. 7

The children put the letter where it would keep dry. They
pinned it in the doll’s dress. Then they pushed the boat away from
the shore, and saw it float off. : '

“Tt’s most to China now,’ said Bess, “ so let’s go and play church.”

































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































“Tt’s only out to Egg Rock,’ said Flossie. But they played
church, and soon forgot the China children.

The next morning, while the little friends slept, an old fisherman
found the boat. It was drifting out to sea. He laughed when he
saw the toys. He carried them-home to his children.

His little girl found the letter. When the fisherman’s wife read
it she said, “Bless their dear little hearts! They have made my
children just as happy as any China children could be.”













































































































A STORMY DAY.

Hark, how the rain is pouring!

Hark, how the north winds
blow!

Think of the poor, poor children

Who have nowhere to gO,

But crouch in sheltered corners

To keep from wind and rain.

Do you thank God, dear little
ones,

That you know not such pain ?

Then think of them with pity,

And try what you can do

To make the poor, poor children

Both warm and happy too.
MARY Et GELLIE.



















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































ON THE BEACH.

Dory and Dolly spent a whole day at the beach. Dory used his
shovel, and Dolly carted the sand he dug up im her little wagon. It
was a pleasant day, and there were plenty of people on the shore.

Among them was a very old man. His clothes were all in rags.
He said he had to take care of his sick daughter and his little
grandson. He had been sick himself, and not able to work. He
had come to the beach to dig clams, for they had nothing in the
house to eat.

Dory helped him with his shovel. While he was at work, Dolly
ran down to him with a silver dollar m her hand. She had found it
in the sand she had in her wagon. She and Dory talked it over.
Dory told her about the poor old man, and they agreed to give the
dollar to him.

They walked down to the water, where he was turning up the
clams. He looked very sad; but when the dollar was put into his
hand he smiled, and looked happy. Dory and Dolly eees happy
as he was, for “it is more blessed to give than to receive.’

UNCLE: FORRESTER.



FREDDIE’S PUZZLE.

I wonpEr why little boys like to make a noise, and why it is so
hard to keep still sometimes, and easy enough other times.

I wasn’t sent wp into the
attic because I was so bad,
but mamma said I could
make all the noise I wanted
to up here, and I would have
to be quiet in the sitting-room.

And now Tm here, and I f
don’t feel like making a noise jj;
at all. But I do not believe
‘it is as much fun when you
are allalone. JI like to blow
the whistle on my locomo-
tive, and drum, and play
wild Indian; and then
mamma says, ‘“ Be more
quiet, Freddie; you
are such a noisy boy!”
_ I try real hard to
be still sometimes; but the
minute I forget, I jump, and
shout, and act like a crazy
boy, Aunt Jane says. I don’t
believe mamma would mind it so much,
if Aunt Jane didn’t always say, “ Well,
I never saw such a noisy boy in my life!”

Perhaps when I grow older I shan’t feel so much like shouting
and hammering. I think Pll go downstairs now, and try to be still
five minutes. Oh, there goes Willie Brown with his drum! TL
get mime, and we will have a drumming match in the garden.





















































ANNIE D. BELL.





THE BUG WITH A MASK.

THERE is a funny little creature that wears a covering all over
his face just like a mask. And what do you think it is for? Let
us see.

Perhaps you have seen the beautiful dragon-flies
that look so much like humming-birds and butter-
flies too. They have broad wings, as thin as a fly’s,
that glitter like glass in the sunshine. Their backs
are just like blue steel.

You will always find
them in the hot summer
months flying through
the fields, or over ponds
and rivers. In the
country they are called
‘“‘devil’s darning-nee-
dles,” because they are
so slender, perhaps. The
French people call them
“demoiselles,’ which
means ladies.

Now this handsome,
swift creature grows
from an ugly bug, that
crawls over the mud at the bottom of
the pond. And this is the way it comes
about.

Little white eggs are laid on the water, the rip-
ples carry them far away, and then they sink into the mud.

The warm sun hatches them, and from each egg creeps a tiny
grub of a greenish color. They are hungry creatures, with very bad

























































Bd. THE BUG WITH A MASK.

hearts. They eat up every little insect that comes in their way.
They are very sly, too. They creep towards their prey as a cat
does when she is in search of a rat.

They lift their small hairy legs, as if they were to do the work. It
is not the legs, but the head that does it. Suddenly it seems to open,
and down drops a kind of visor with joints and hinges.

This strange thing is stretched out until it swings from the chin.
Quick as a flash some insect is caught in the trap and eaten.

This queer trap, or mask, is the under lip of the grub. Instead of
being flesh like ours, it is hard and horny, and pares enough to cover
the whole face.

It has teeth and muscles, and the grub uses it as a weapon
too.

It 1s nearly a year before this ugly-looking grub gets its wings.
A little while after it is hatched, four tiny buds sprout from its
shoulders, just as you see them on the branch of a tree. These are
really only watery sacs at first. Inside of them the wings grow
slowly until you can see the bright colors shining through.

Some morning this hairy-legged little bug creeps up a branch.
Then he shakes out his wings and flies away into the air,.a slender,
beautiful dragon-fly.

I have told you of the only creature in the world that wears this
curious mask.

MRS. G. HALL.





THE MOON-CLOTH.

















THE winter night fell all too soon ;
There was no. moon,
Save just a crescent that: seemed to be
ACsiver (6 ee
Written against the frosty sky,
So far and high.

















































































































































































Teddy was called, against his will,
From the coasting-hill.

The track was icy along the drift,

. And his sled was switt ;

So he the summons to hear or heed
Was loath indeed.

Even when the fire-lit house was gained
His frown remained ;
And he murmured ’twas hard for him
to see
Why the moon should be
Sometimes so round, like a great white
ball,
Sometimes so small.































































































































































Up spoke sweet Edith, sitting there
All Saxon fair :
“They hadn’t enough of the moon-cloth spun
For a larger one,
And they wanted to use this up before
They made any more.”



This satisfied dear little Ted,
And he went to bed;

But he thought of his precious penny hoard
So snugly stored,

And he wondered how much of a supply
His dollar would buy.



86 THE MOON-CLOTH.



























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































And he asked of Edith afterward,

How much the moon-cloth cost a yard.

MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.



°. oa = a
~“THE SNOW BIRDS. :
When skies looked cold and winter boughs
Gave out a crackling sound,
Two little snow-birds chilled, with frost,
Had fallen to the ground.
When Nelly came along that way,
And saw them sitting there;
She thought them dead, “But no,” she
said,
“They need a little care.”
She warmed them with her hand, and
gave
Them dainty crumbs to eat,
And then they oped their pretty eyes,
- And stood upon their feet.
And looked up sweetly in her face,
And chirped, as if to say,
“We thank you for your tenderness,’”
And then they flew away.

Where they had gone so suddenly,
She looked above to see,

And there they sat, a row of them,
Upon the maple tree.

They chirped and twittered as they
looked,
As much as they could do,
As if tosay “Sweet little girl,
We will remember you.”
And to a friendship very sweet,
Her acts of kindness led,
For often would they follow her,
And fly above her head.

But how they could remember her,
She never understood,

But papa said, “I think ’tis by

That little scarlet hood.’’








BERTIE’S BATH.

BErTIE’s papa was master of a large ship that sailed on the great
ocean. When Bertie was about four years old he and his mamma
went to sea
in the ship
with papa. Bertie saw many
curious things; but now I
want to tell you of a funny
bath he took.

One day he said, “I want to
bathe im the ocean water, mam-
ma.” The next morning his papa
had a man fill the bath-tub with
salt water from the ocean. Bertie
steppéd into the tub, gave a little
scream, and climbed up and sat
on the edge of the tub.

“Ha!” he said, “ the -ocean
water here is colder than the
ocean water at the beach. I
think I'll get out.” But he still
sat on the edge of the tub and
looked solemnly into the water.

Now it seemed as if Old Ocean
-meant that Bertie should get in,
for just then a big wave rolled under the
ship, and tossed her bow high in the air.

Bertie was thinking of the beach at
home, where he had played in the sand.
He had forgotten he was at sea. So when
the ship was tossed upon the big wave,
down fell Bertie, sousé, into the bath-tub.

Such a splashing and dashing and spluttering
you never heard! When he opened his mouth to scream, the
water rushed into it. At last he scrambled wp and stood in the tub,
and mamma wiped his face. Just as he was going to cry, he saw





90 LOST AND FOUND.

that she was laughing, and he could not help laughing himself. In
a minute he said, “The water doesn’t feel so cold now; guess I'll get
in again.”

In he plunged, and had a nice play. He had many baths after
that, and never minded the cold water. I think Old Ocean taught
him that when he had a thing to do, it was best to do it at once.

What do you think?
PARI ye

LOST AND FOUND.

Company was expected at Vine Cottage. Jennie’s mamma had
been busy all the mornmg. She found small time to look atter her
little girl.

Noontime came, and with it Jennie’s papa from his store. The
store was not far from Vine Cottage, and on the same street. It
was in a small country town, where grass and tall, rank weeds
were allowed to grow on each side of the streets.

Mamma’s eyes opened wide with surprise when she saw papa
enter without Jennie. “ Where’s Jennie ?”’ were the first words that
greeted his entrance to the kitchen.

“She has not been near me to-day, the darling,” said papa.

“You surely cannot mean this!” exclaimed mamma. “She is
always with you at the store, when not at my heels.”

“When did you last see her?” asked papa, anxiously.

“She came to me about ten o’clock, and asked for her little pink
gingham sun-bonnet. I tied it over her bonny brown head, and
she scampered away, throwing back kisses to me,” said mamma.

“Three hours ago! Bless her little feet, where may they not
have carried her in that time?”

Papa’s eyes grew misty as he ordered a search to be made for the
little lost one. Every nook in the old house was searched. Millie,
the cook, even looked into the great stone churn, though. it was one-
third full of rich sour cream.

Mamma’s eyes were red and swollen. No chip had been left



LOST AND FOUND. 9]

unturned, under which Jennie might be concealed. Once Sue thought
they had found her “swate gossoon ; but jist ye wait a bit!”

Pinned between a pair of fine sheets, in Jennie’s little bed, was the
old house-cat, Tom. He had on Jennie’s night-gown and cap. It
was no wonder he
had been mistaken
for his little mistress.

Papa says, “I won-
der where Rover is!”

Sure enough, where
was Rover? Papa
found him locked in
the store. He remem-
bered his coming and
his strange behavior.
How his small, yellow
legs did fly when the
door was opened, —
up the path which led
through the tall, rank
May-weeds to the
house! Papa followed
as fast as he could.
Rover stopped _half-
way up the path, and
































































~?

looking towards papa, : 7 :

whined. Ve ‘
Coming up, papa 3

saw something that : a

made him glad.
There, cradled deep
among the white blossoms, lay Jennie, fast asleep. Kisses awoke
the wee maiden, and she rubbed her sleepy eyes.

And now, whenever ‘I walk through country lanes, I recall with a
smile the noonday nap I took— There, little people, I’ve let the old

cat out of the bag; but’ never mind.
MOTHER CAREY.



MORNING—GLORIES.

Hurry! hurry! hurry ! Open quick your petals
Don’t you see the sun, Swift to greet the day.

Pretty Morning-Glories, — Higher! higher! higher !
Work not yet begun ? Catch the first bright ray.





Don’t you know the morning So be up and doing,
Is your little hour, Children of the sun ;
And how soon you're drooping For your chief adorning
If a cloud should lower? All his beams are spun.

ELIZABETH A. DAVIS.















Lirtte children, don’t you hear
Some one knocking at your door ?

Don’t you know the glad new year
Comes to you and me once more —

Comes with treasures ever new
Spread out at our waiting feet,
High resolves and.
purpose true
Round our lives to
music sweet ?

ee

) i

iy

mm
|
ei



94 PLAYING GYPSIES.

Ours to choose the thorns or flowers.
If we but mind our duty,

Spend aright the priceless hours,
And life will glow with beauty.

Let us, then, the portals fling,
Heaping high the liberal cheer ;
Let us laugh, and shout, and sing, —
Welcome! Welcome, glad new year!
ELIZABETH ‘A. DAVIS.



' PLAYING GYPSIES.

Mase and Fay thought it would be nice to play gypsies and
steal their baby brother away from mamma. Then they would
make her pay piles of money for bringing him back. So they
dressed up, and were dreadful-looking gypsies, in slouched hats and
long coats. They hid little Georgie carefully on the front porch
behind some chairs and an open umbrella.

BAY



PLAYING GYPSIES. 95

Mamma was listening, and soon she said: “ Where is Georgie? I
saw some gypsies near here to-day; I am afraid they have stolen
im.” So she looked in all the wrong places she could think of,
Then she sent Dinah, the cook, and told her to offer ten dollars for
the lost baby.

him.

Presently the two dreadful gyp-





sies came in and asked her
if she wished to buy a
baby. She paid ten



found pieces of gilt paper to the chief of the robbers, which was
Fay, and got her dear stolen baby back. Then she “made be-
lieve” she had been very much frightened about Georgie. The
gypsies broke down, and one of them wept, because she thought
mamma really had been troubled. Then Mrs. Godwin kissed the ter-

rible gypsies and told papa all about it when he came from the office.
R. W. LOWRIE.



BECALMED AT SEA, OR THE UNPROSPEROUS VOYAGE.

Ox, bold and bumbly boomed the bees

All in and out the elder-trees,

When Vibe, in his bathing-rig,

Embarked upon his bread-tray brig,
His towel for a sail.

“Cmyos pero
—— Varyags-

















The lake stretched out before him vast ;

He used a fish-pole for a mast ;

For ballast, in his boots he cast ;

And paddling out, the shallows past ;
He waited for a gale.



Full Text








fered










on














AT THE FIRESIDE:

One Hundred Original Stories
for Young People.

BY

MARY D. BRINE, MARIAN DOUGLAS, L. A. FRANCE, ANNIE
D. BELL, M. E.N. HATHEWAY, MRS. G. HALL, MRS. D. P.
SANFORD, MARGARET JOHNSON, SYDNEY DAYRE,

T. CRAMPTON, CLARA DOTY BATES, MOTHER
CAREY, MARY N. PRESCOTT, R. W. LOWRIE,

AND OTHERS.

WITH ORIGINAL ILLUSTRA TIONS.

BY

F. S. CHURCH, W. M. CARY, W. H. SHELTON, CULMER BARNES,
W. J. MOZART, W. L. SHEPPARD, MISS E. S. TUCKER, W. L.
TAYLOR, L, HOPKINS, F. T. MERRILL, F. CHILDE
HASSAM, FRANCIS MILLER, PARKER HAYDEN,

H. PRUETT SHARE, MISS L. B. HUMPHREY,

AND OTHERS.

KRDITBD BY
DAPHNE DALE.

he.
beri

CHICAGO anp PHILADELPHIA:

BRLLIOTT & BRBALEY.
1890.
COPYRIGHT 1890,

ELLIOTT & BEEZLEY.
Title.
AT THE FIRESIDE,
Berar Story, A,
y BOWSER, -

vBasy Buar, Tus,

vBue with A Mask, THs,

yBrrtiz's Barn,

BECALMED AT SEA,

BASKETFUL OF SWEETNESS,

“BEpro, gi

Cuaneeru. Herry,
CatTcHING THE COLT,

VYDUKE AND THE KIrren,
First Birrupay, THs, -
vFREDpDIE's Puzz.R,

Fry Away, Lirriz Brrps,
vyGoING To THE GOLDEN WEDDING,
Goinc AFTER THE Cows,
/GRANDPA Lynn's Picture,
~Goat IN TROUBLE, A,

/How Birps Use THEIR Bins,

How Two Braves Kepr House In & Suox,

OF CONTENT

vHow THE Bears HeLpep ONE ANOTHER,
Hovsss £or Rent,

¢Hurpie Race, THE,
“Hear Us Sine, aaoee Us Syenctl

lines u
vVInsects’ WINGS,
Ly tHe Lang,

, JEALOUS Lirrie Doe, Ta,

Kurtte’s Pre,
vUILy’s GARDEN,
yLost AnD Founp,

~LIZziB, THE HLEPHANT,

viirtLe Miss Jostx,
Lerrer to Moruer Nature.

Â¥ Movine Day,



Author,
John D. Long. -
Clara Doty Bates.

C. Bell. 4 ee

Grace C. Fisk. .
Mrs.G. Hall. .
Olea) as
Alice Spicer. ks
Mary D. Brine.

‘Jennie S. Hudson.

Marian Douglas. -
L. A, France.
Margaret Johnson.
Annie D. Bell.

AM. H.N, ave

hele S Se Z
Mary D. Brine. -
RWwL. . 2
oe aa
Mrs. G. Hall.

“Aunt Dewsy,’ -

_T. Crampton. :

LL. A. Franee. =

Mrs. D. P. Sanford.

L. A. B.C. - 2
Sydney Dayre. -
Mrs. G. Hall. =
L. A. France. e
C. M. . E "

Mary N. Prescott.
Mother Carey,

T. Crampton. =
MATES eee 2
Sydney Dayre. -

Mrs. D. P. Sanford.
4 TABLE OF CONTENTS.

Tiue.

/ Mrs. Humrne-Birp, - us 5
Moon-Ciots, THs, iS e ie
MorniInG-GLORIES, 33%,
New Yaar, THs, os a s

VNew Basy, THE, rs a a
OnLy a CHICKEN, es 3 Z

VON THE Beacu, a te

Ou! THosz Wasps, - u s
Our May-Day at THE SournH, i

Y PUMPEIN-STALK FLutx, THs, i
Pars py THE River, THE, - 3

VPLAYING GYPSIES, ig = =
Powro AND THE Moon, is &
yQurER Prn-Box, A, - ce

y QUEER CONVEYANCES, — g a
RaceEep Jon's THANKSGIVING, i
Reason Wuy, THE, - G a

vy SAVED FRoM Freezing to DeatH, -

y SNOWBALL AND THE LOBSTER, a
Sap, z sf s a i
SNOWING, - ss a a 3
Sroruy Day, A, - = 2 i
Syow-Brrps, i 5 : u
SUMMER, . s g x

VSANTA CLAUS’S Lerrer, ieee

/SELFISH GIRL, THE, _ 2 iE

Â¥ TABBY AND JOSEY, a e ie

(Time Texas, . 2 e ©

/THINKING OF ANIMALS, THE, ee
vTwo Ways or REapINe, = &

vy Twenty Lirrte Pountices, - a

v Two Runaways, - 2 i =
VALENTINE, A, 3 as &3
Wuat Mapezt Din, - a ‘
Wit-0’-THE-WIsp, - a @
WHERE? . = f ie

¢ Way Tommy Was In Bun, i Z
vWuat Puss Hearp, -

vWHAT THE (hanes SENT To oO CHIN A,
/WaHERE THE Prerry Paro Lep, -
VYoune Preacuer, THs, 5 2



Author.
A.D. Bell. -

Clara Doty Bates.
Elizabeth A. Davis.
“e ce

Sophie May.
Eugene J. Hali.
Uncle Forrester.

Edward A. Rand.

Ae Oa
Je Ae
Chenry.

Rk. W. Lowrte.

Blorenve B. Pleat 2
Lavinia S. Goodwin.

Kham.
Mary D. Brine.

Mrs. F'. Greenough.

Liffie Rodgers.
Sydney Dayre.

Elizabeth A. Davis.

Mary E. Gellie.

Mary Bloom.
C. Emma Cheney.
HT. L. Charles.

Mrs. G. I. Hopkins,

Faith Wynne.
Mrs. G. Hall.
Aunt Nell. _
Li. S. Tucker.
Emily H. Miller,

Clara G. Dolliver.

M other Carey.

Mary N. Prescott.

Florence B. Hallowell.
Mary N. Prescott.
Kate Tannatt Woods.
Mrs. F. T. Merrill

R. W. Lowrie.
Subject.
Tue FLEET, &

LIn.iz AND THE Cat,
Waat Maser Drp,

Cuancerut Herry,

“Sus Caveat Her Arron Fun or Snow,”

On tHE Bracn, -

THE Swow-Brrps,

COLORED PLATES.

Fry Away, Lirrtie Brrps, -

In THE SWING, -
Two RuNAWAYS, - —

LirrLe Brossoms,

VINe

Artist.

Page.

Frontispiece.

C. Barton Barber. i

TB.

C. Lobrichon.

LI. B.

W. S. Coleman.

ie
38
51
69
79
87
99
131
143
149
Yet OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Ys

Ie
Sy

|

Subject. Artist. Page.
*“ Awp Hearty anp Heart Fuasm att Actow,” #.H.G. Sti sa 9
“Aun, You Naveuty Dog, You’rz Jzarous!” £#.9. Church . Simineo
‘A Pan oF Breap AND Minx BrrorE Him,” . W. M. Cary. i - 47
“A Cross Otp LozstEr,” s 2 is . W.H. Shelton. . . 49
“ A Tartt-Precs,” i i t 2 a he coe - 60
“ Ary Went to TERRIBLE Suen” i a ‘s Mes ies hoo
“A Wark Ourin roe Woops,” - i . Culmer Barnes. . iGO
A Stormy Day: Ar THE Hoven, - i . W.J. Mozart. - LN aS
Hs “On tee Riven, - _ 2 a a i eS
os “ON THE OcEAN, - = s a 8 LS
‘““A Bra Watter FoR HeRsELF,” = _ i - W.L. Sheppard. - - 104
“A VALENTINE,” i a i a . Miss E. 8. Tucker. . 106
“ Awp Lemonave SHoutp Busse Up,” - . L. Hopkins. : - 116
“Awnp Barks at THE Moon,” - . Parker Hayden. - eae
“ Art Nustiep Down ’mip Buanxets Tere,” Jessie McDermott. _ 128
“ Bor Turvy Liven in tHe Parx,” i _ W.M. Cary. u ae 20)
“ Brrps Do Not Have Hanns,” _ i . Culmer Barnes. - eG.
* Bowser Hap a Set or New SHOES,” _ _ HT. Scharstein. — _ Shae
“ Brrorg Tory Manz Any Mors,” Ge VW Lay lore ie eS
* Beppo Was A Donkey,” _ k _ W.H. Shelton. - ea l25,
“ Crosz Urow Him Was THE OLD Ran,” z sa ff : ae
“CovereD Her Urpin a Trny Bap,” - . L. Hopkins. GaN ees by
“ CovERED wiTH Great Waurre Liures,” _ FLT. Merrill. — - Hues Oi
“Hprrn Emprrep It Over Her Heap,” _ _ Miss E. 8. Tucker. HOS
“ EMBARKED Upon His Breap-Tray Brie,” . F&F. T. Merrill. i . 96
“For Rent: Apply Wirain,” = - i EU MEeE a ylor an 2) - 64
“ FLUTTER THE FLAKES oF SNow,” ~ 2 . EH. A. Garrett. — - ain ral ie
“Pry Away, Lirrtz Brirps,” : 2 . LF. Childe Hassa.. _ 98
“Four Rosy-CHEEKED Lirrie Grris on Hs Back,” W. H. Shelton. _ - 126
“¢ How Dare You?’ He SHouren,” é . Francis Miller. . a eile)
“Hu Szizep THE NEWFOUNDLAND,” id . H. P. Share. ss . 38

“He Fer StRanGELY TrrED AND CoLp,” . W.H. Shelton. . . 40
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

1 Subject. Artist.

“He Just Caveat Hoxp of tae Tart,” . W.H. Sheltouw. -
“He Fewt Dyro a Pre,” = E . - Culmer Bers. i
“Hortp on Tieut aT THE Top,” = _ Z S ae :

‘‘ FAVE YOU SEEN THE BEAUTIFUL DRAGON-FLIES 2 Weer Taylor. 3
“Tip Sat on THE EpaE or THE Tus,” _ - FLT. Merrill. _
“He SirowLy Sxoox His Empry Har,” ~ E - e “
“Hear Us Stnc,—Sze Us Swine,” a . Miss E. 8. Tucker.
“Trl Were Onty a Kirren,” _ 2 . Miss C. A. Northam.
“T ve Gor Onz,” io i _ és _ Culmer Barnes.

“JT Am Waritrne You a Lerrer,” - . . LL. Hopkins. z
“Ipa Founp Hers SwEer anp Juicy,” - . Miss B.S. Tucker.
“Ts Your Dott Prerry Wen?” _ . - Miss L. B. Comins.
‘“ JoHNNIE Gave Her 4 Saucer or Ming,” . W.L. Taylor. -
“Let Us Grinp Our Frnerr-Natrts,” _ . Miss B.S. Tucker.
‘‘ Lirtte CHILDREN, Don’t You Hzar?” - Miss L. B. Humphrey.
“LOADED, IN THE Woops,” _ a ¢ z a .
“My Litrre Marearet Sits Me Nu AR,” ee Le Ga s
“My Kirry Is a QuapRUPED,” —_ Ee Wa hay lore

“Maser Lay on THE Froor wire Her Boox,’ ’ Miss L. B. Humphrey. -

“Morninc-GLoRIES,” _ = 2 2 . Parker Hayden. .
“Mamma Was GRIEVED,” _ c és - William St. J. Harper.
“Mounrep on THE Hen’s Back,” - : . F.S. Church. :
“Mistress Cackie Lavewine,” . . . _ Jessie McDermott.
“Mary Loves Her Brorger Now,” e . Miss L. B. Comins.
“OnLy THE CHICKADER Cuirnrups His Sone,” ££. A. Garrett. .
“On a Sroon, AND THat Was His Punert,” . Francis Miller. -

“O Trp, Here’s a Lerrer,” ‘ X . William St. J. Harper.
“PrEasE, WILL-o’-THE-WISP,” _ z _ W.L. Taylor. -
“Ran Hur Frnezrs Over tHe Pace,” - - Miss L. B. Humphrey. -
“Sne Frew Back to Her Nust,” _ e ._ Culmer Barnes. -
“Sue RAN TO THE PLace,” _ us Bs . A. Buhler. - =:
“Sue Founp 4 DaNDELION,” : : - Chas. Copeland. -
“Sometimes He Suowep His Savace Naturg,” W. M. Cary. :
“Sranpine Erect, Hz Wovutp WaLK Arounnwus,” “ :
“Sue Becan to Poxr Ir wir OnE Paw,” _ Culmer Barnes. -

“ SoMETHING FOR THE Poor Cuina CHILDREN,” Francis Miller.

“Sip anp Dory Tatxep It Over,” e . FF. Childe Hassam.

“Sue Hap Caveut Her Cuarn on 4 Rat,” - W. M. Cary.

Page.
40
60
61
83
89

112
180
12
45
116
128
139
33
74
93
117

33
67
. 92
109
118
134
140
53
103
110°
37
67
23
24
43
46
47
66
76
81
133
8 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Subject. Artist.

“ ScrEAMING, RunNrING, Tossinc up THEIR Arms,” H. P. Share. E
“Tue Man Lirrep Him vp Tusre,” —- _ W.L. Sheppard. .
“THE Kirre Dp Pur Its Paw we

: Toten. Hoe = = < : } VGN Cony. az
“Tere Darntrest Lirrne Hummine-Brrp,” . Culmer Barnes. -
“Tuer Bitts Are Usrrun ro Toem,” - a & ss -
“THE Duck Turusts His Brut Down,” i oe iH s
“'Trat WALK BY THE RiIvEr’s Srp,” _ . EE. Parker Hayden.
“"T wing Make You 4 Nick Nzst,” 2 _ FF. Childe Hassam.
“Toe Bear Curtep up Crosr to Hur,” _ W.M. Cary. “

“Tre Two Kirrens HAD BEEN Ensovine A Nap,” W. H. Shelton. -
“Titre ENJOYED JUMPING INTO A TUB af L. Hopkins

WATER,” — _ i 2 E 2 ;
“Tus Heap Was Fvit oF Pins,” - 5 - Ellen Oakford. .
“Tare Poor Lirrne Heap Hap ro pe Suaven,” Miss EF. 8. Tucker.
“Twenty Lirrte Pouticss,” s cs K oi &
““THry WERE SITTING BY THE OPEN Free,” . Miss C. A. Northam.
aes PusHED THE Boat AWAY FROM ree Hepes Millopone

HORE, 7 2 Z Piniyne
sf aes Was CALLED FROM THE COASTING W. L. Taylor. ne

Tons sf : . 4 3
“TrrouaH Country Langs,” a a . FF. Childe Hassam.
“Two DreapFUL Gypsigs CAMEIN,’ = -_ _ FT. Merrill.
“Tae Doctor Took Houp or toe Trung,” _ W. H. Shelton. —
“Tur SHEEP TuErR Compantons at Phay,”? . E.P. Hayden. -
“To tHE END or THE LANE,” 2 - W.L. Sheppard. .—
“Tae COMING OF THE CRANES,” . FF. S8. Church.
“Took His PicrurE on THE Sty,” 2 . I. G. McCutcheon. —
“THe Rack Course Was a Drrcu,” 2 . FLT. Merrill. -
“Two LirrLe GIRLiEs,” e : . Jessie McDermott.
“THreE Lirrte Grriies, ALL so SounD ASLEEP,” “ i
“Tien Way For CHILDREN To Treat Wasps,” HA. P. Share. eS
“Up Spoke Sweet Eprru, Sirtrine Tours,” .- W.L. Taylor. .
“Went to Ske Waar THE Brrapres Hap Donn,” F. Childe Hassam.
““WaueEre Is tHe Honry-BEn?”. _ e . &. H. Garrett.
“Wirn TuHrrr Hanns Besinp Terr Backs,’ Miss H. S. Tucker.
“We Witt Have a Drumming Marca,” . £F. Childe Hassam.
“ Wirnout Him Jonnnie Coutp Nzver Go,” _ W.L. Taylor. -
“Yer Tommy Was in Bzp,” a z - Miss EL. 8. Tucker.

Page.
1386
14

19

22
26
26
27
30
46
58

55

57
63
74,
75

77

91
95
102
105
115
119
124
129
134
185
188
86
bl
53
73
82
114
62



















eet





tyight all bg che firelight's eek
oe ia spi near, i
yd. be ane tellof things that ae

? av ih as is ist like her.’



























|
b, little li ps ai Lovech the od
OF aie sad veijemerings s
a ond hear th elelaer flash llayt
=| a Vuady bints of | ongane. Mi
| if ‘\t
F at rpy father’s fireside sik = \5
i iy oungest of all who circle it,
i i Fad heg hin tell me what did Jye;
When he tie Little jest. Uke 4p











































































































rah,
i EN
a at sonia

DY on ln





Tle Sa al

a M pe SS Mins HU, Yip WSs eae

\ e An zi Bn i} EG

Van 3 4 aoe ie e
“gy / ae i S Oy if

AT THE FIRESIDE.

TE 1".

Ir I were only a kitten,
How jolly and nice ’t would be
To play about in the sunshine
And run up the tallest tree!

I never should hem the towels
Nor sew any buttons on ;

I never should have to stay in school
Till the brightest hours were gone.

Sometimes, though, I should be busy
_ Making a marble roll,
Or sitting, if I were hungry,

To watch by a mouse’s hole.

But if I were feeling lazy,
I’d curl myself in a ball,

And lie all day by the fire,
With nothing to do at all.
12 ; IF.

But, dear! I had ’most forgotten, —

If I were only a cat,

I could n’t be mamma’s girlie.

Now, what do you think of that!





























































































































lle rork ands iellectnay: bravely
Always, to hear her say:
“My own little darling daughter,

You have been good to-day.”
| , : SYDNEY DAYRE.


MOVING DAY.



MOVING-DAY.

Jamie Brigut was four years old when his father and mother moved
toanew home. The old home, where Jamie was born, was just in
the edge of the woods. Jamie had played in and out among the
trees ever since he could walk alone.

Now Jamie’s father was going to keep the store, up oe the Green,
and a small house near the store was to be their home. Jamie’s
mother was sorry to leave the old home; she and sister Katy wiped
their eyes often on the moving-day. But Jamie thought it was
great fun to move, and he was full of glee.

Father went up to the new house on that day, to get it ready.
Then a man came with an ox-cart to take the beds and chairs and
all the other things. ae

When the load was piled on, mother and Katy set out to walk
through the woods, by a short path, to the new house. They had a
corn-basket between them; the cups and glass things were in the
basket. Mother called, “ “Sn Jamie, you can go with us!”

“ Oh, no,” said Jamie, “I must go after the cart, and take care of

the things !”
His mother laughed. She ead “Tt is a long way round by the

road; you will be tired!”
ih Best let him go,” said the man who aoe the team; “ we need

him to look after the load !”
So the oxen started off at a slow pace, and Jamie followed the

cart. His mother’s brass kettle hung out at the back of the load,


14 : MOVING-DAY.

from the end of the mop-stick. The kettle kept swinging as the cart
jogged on. Jamie watched it all the time lest it should fall off.

He stubbed his toe and fell down twice, because he was looking
up at the cart; but he did notery; he was a man that day! At
last the man who drove saw that the small man was tired. So he
said, ‘See here, youngster; can’t you sit up on this feather-bed,
and see that the oxen keep the road ?”

There was a eon nest, vase, ‘big enough for Jamie, between two













































































































































































































































chairs. The man lifted him up there; it was a nice place. “In five
minutes Jamie was sound asleep.
- When. they came to the new house the man lifted him down, and
said, ‘“Here’s the young man who took care of the load!”
Jamie had had such a good nap that he was all ready to help put
the new house in order.

ay:

MRS. D. P. SANFORD.
RAGGED: JOE'S THANKSGIVING 15















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THANKSGIVING was Freddy fay? Ss birthday: hed, with: his: ‘ttle
sister, Eunice, had just gone out to try his new sled, when his
father called him to do an errand. “ Leave’ Eunice to: play with
Rob Roy,” he ee (Rob Boy was the sled’s came), 7 a return | as
soon as you can.’

It is not pleasant to be sent away when about to try a new: sled.
But Fred did not allow such things to vex him. He ran off laughing,
and in about ten minutes he came round ‘the corner again, panting
in his race. Then he saw something that made his heart thump.

There stood little Eunice, white with snow, and with the tears
streaming down her rosy cheeks. By her side, ‘holding the: sled,
was a boy; and such a ragged boy! He seemed to’ “wear more
holes than clothes. His bare toes peeped out, of his shoes. He was
pale and thin. You would say he did not know what. turkey was.

Fred ran up to him. “How dare you,” he shouted, “ push my
sister into the snow, and take my new sled!” The boy began to
cry. Then Fred noticed his pinched face. He drew back; he had”
learned to govern his temper. “s Be
16 . DUKE AND THE KITTEN.

“ Oh, you didn’t mean it, I think,” he said.

“No, I didn’t,” cried the boy; “but I did want a coast so much.
I never had a sled. And the little girl held on so that I pulled her
over. Don’t strike me, please! I didn’t mean any harm, and I
will drag her on the sled if you will let me.”

This was too much for Fred. He pitied the poor, eager boy.
“So you may drag her, and have a coast too if you like!” he cried.
And he ran into the house to report to his father.

Now Mrs. Ray had watched the whole scene. I will not tell what
she thought, or how she found out about ragged Joe, for that was
the poor boy’s name.

All is, at dinner Fred broke the wish-bone with his father. “TI
wish Joe had a sled, too,’ he cried.

“And I wish,” said his father, “that my Freddy may always act
like a little man, as he did to-day.”

And I must tell you that, after dinner, Fred found ragged Joe in
the kitchen. He had a great basket of goodies, and Fred’s old sled
to draw them home with. It was a happy day for Joe when he first
saw the Rob Roy. So it was for Fred too, for he became more of a

little man than ever.
KHAM,



DUKE AND THE KITTEN.

Dvxe was a large black and white dog. He had long ilky ears
and large bright eyes. When he was a pup, he was so full of mis-
chief that his mistress used to say, “We really shall have to send
Duke away ; we cannot have any peace of our lives while he stays
here.’ Somehow Duke was never sent off. Every one thought too










DUKE AND THE KITTEN. 19

much of him. Even his mistress, for all she scolded him, would
have been sorry to have him go.

Duke was very fond of a little yellow kitten, and the kitten was
fond of him. Although Duke teased the kitten, he was very careful
not to hurt it, and they had some lively times together.

They used to play hide-and-seek together. The kitten would
run under an ottoman; it came so close to the floor that there was



just room for the kitten to get under. Duke would le down and
put his head close to the floor. The kitten would stick out its yellow
paw, and Duke would try to catch it; after a while the kitten would
run out, and they would play up and down the walks.

Sometimes the kitten-would run under the porch and put its paw
up through a hole in the floor. Duke would come and put his paw
on it; then the kitten would put its head up, Duke would take
its head in his big mouth, pull it up through theâ„¢hole, and carry it

around the garden. They both seemed to think it fun.
L. A. FRANCE.
2
A BEAR-STORY.,

“J xyow a new bear-story,”
I said to the little folks,

Who surely as the twilight falls,
Begin .to tease and coax.





















































































































































































| “And did they live in the forest,

| In a den all deep and dark?

| And were there three?” —“ Yes, three,” I said,
: “But tuey lived in the park.

“Tet’s see! Old Jack, the grizzly,
With great white claws, was there;

And a mother bear with thick brown coat,
And Betty, the little bear!


A BEAR-STORY. 21

“And Silver-Locks went strolling
One day, in that pretty wood,

With Ninny, the nurse, and all at once
They came where the bears’ house stood.

“ And without so much as knocking
To see who was at home,

She cried out in a happy voice,
‘Old Grizzly, here I come!’

“ And thereupon old Grizzly

Began to gaze about;
And the mother bear sniffed at the bars,
_ And the baby bear peeped out.

“ And they thought she must be a fairy,
Though, instead of a golden wand,
She carried a five-cent paper bag
Of peanuts in her hand.

“Old Grizzly his red mouth opened
As though they tasted good ;

And the brown bear opened her red mouth
To catch one when she could;

“And Betty, the greedy baby,
Followed the big bears’ style,
And held her little fire-red mouth,

Wide open all the while.

“ And Silver-Locks laughed delighted,
And thought it wondrous fun,

And fed them peanuts from the bag
Till she had n’t another one.

“And is that all?” sighed Gold-Locks.
“ Pshaw, is that all?” cried Ted.
“No—one thing more! "Tis quite, quite time
That little folks were in bed!”
CLARA DOTY BATES.


MRS. HUMMING-BIRD.

Owe day grandpa said to Harry and Ida, “Children, if you will
come out while I am picking peas to-morrow morning, you will see
something very pretty.” That was all he would tell them.

They kept wondering about it every little while through the day,
and made mamma promise to wake them early. I was a little curi-
ous, myself, to know what could be there at six o’clock in the morn-
ing, and at no other time.

The children were very wide awake at the appointed hour,
and full of fun. Grandpa said they must be quiet, or they would
frighten away his little pet.

“Won’t you tell us what it is, grandpa?” cried Beary,

“Do tell us, grandpa!” chimed in Ida.

Grandpa smiled, with a teasing look in his eyes, and said, ‘Oh,
you will soon find out for yourselves, if her royal highness favors us.”

He had been at work only a few minutes, and was whistling softly
to himself, when out flew the daintiest little humming-bird! Her
nest was in a quince-tree just beyond the fence.

At first she was very shy, and did not alight; but her wings
quivered in the sunshine, and showed the lovely colors. She flashed
around like a bit of a rainbow, and the children were wild with

delight.

—_
Ms. HUMMING-BIRD. 23 |

Grandpa pretended not to see her, and soon she gained more
courage. Then she flew back to her nest, and called her two young
ones. They had just begun to use their wings, and the mother-bird
coaxed them along to the pea-vines.

The children had a good look at them then. They were about as
large as a bumble-bee, only slimmer in the body. Their feathers
had begun to grow, and they seemed like a mixture of red and
green and gold. ;

The mother-bird flew away, and left her little ones near grandpa,
as if she knew he would keep them from harm. Ina few minutes
she was back again, her bill laden with sweets, which she fed to the
birdies.

She did this several times. Then she gave a little call, and flew
towards the nest. The birdies soon followed her.

Grandpa said she helped the little birds along ue her bill the
first morning she came.

The children were delighted with grandpa’s pet. They had

never seen a humming-bird before, and to have one so near was an
inducement for them to wake up early.
Mrs. Humming-bird came every morning until the little ones were

able to fly away, and grandpa’s peas were all picked.
A. D. BELL.














































































































































































































































la

THE PUMPKIN-STALK FLUTE.



























Freppre Brown had a present on his last birthday. When he
went out into the barn he found a little calf only a few hours old.
Mr. Brown thought it must be meant for his little boy, as it came
on his birthday. Freddie was glad to have a calf for his own.
Every day he thought of some new thing he should buy with the
money, when she had grown to be a cow and he could sell her
THE PUMPKIN-S TALK FLUTE. 25

milk. He made such a pet of the calf that she soon knew him, and
learned to. follow him about.

It was hard work to find a good name for the pet. A great many
had been thought of, but none of them seemed to be just right.
One day Bossy followed Freddie into the kitchen. Mrs. Brown was
making cookies. The calf stood looking at her, as though she were
trying to find out just how much sugar, butter, and flour were used.
Mrs. Brown laughed, and said Fred ought to call the calf “ Yankee,”
she was so inquisitive and independent. That just suited Freddie,
and so Bossy got a name. —

Some days Yankee stayed in the pasture with her mother. Then
she seemed to miss her little playfellow. Her mother was too old
and grave to frolic much. One day, when she was feelig lonesome,
Yankee thought she heard another calf not far away. She was glad
to have company, and ran to the place where the sound came ot
There she found, not another calf, but her little master with a neigh-
bor friend. She stood looking at them a long time.

Freddie had cut a sien lent, and ee! it down close to the
stem, until it looked like this: ei

He made a slit about an inch long in the stem near the top.
Then he put it into his mouth so far that the slit was covered, and
blew. This made the noise Yankee had mistaken for another calf.

When Freddie was tired of that sound, he cut a little round hole
near the other end of the stem, and blew again. This time he made
a different noise. When he put his fmger on the hole and blew, he
made the same noise that he did at first. Then be cut more holes,
and found that he could make so many different sounds that he had
quite a good pumpkin-stalk flute.

J. AM.


HOW BIRDS






























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































USE THEIR BILLS.

THe birds do not have hands,
but they have something that an-
swers just as well. Their bills are
as useful to them as your hands are
to you.

They are not all made alike, or
used in the same way. The duck
has a very queer bill. It is made
so because this bird has to find its
food under water.. It cannot see
what it gets, and must feel, instead.

So this bill is filled with nerves
for the purpose. It has a row of
little points, too, all around the
edge, something like teeth. But
how does the duck use it? Let us
see.

When searching for food, it
thrusts this bill down, and brings
it up full of mud. Now in the mud
are the very things the bird lives
upon.

These little nerves tell it just










































































THE PATH BY THE RIVER? 27

2

what is good to eat. What is not good is sent out through these
queer points, just as if it was a sifter. The nerves in this funny
sieve take very good care that nothing shall be lost that is worth the
eating.

You know all about the little birds that build. nests with their -
bills, and what wonderful things they are. Some can sew very well
with their beaks; of course they use their feet too.

MRS. G. HALL.























































































































































































































































THE PATH BY THE RIVER.

Bevis loves that walk by the river’s side,
In summer or in winter time;
~ Great vessels float on tie gentle tide,
And the hill is pleasant to climb.

CHENRY.


THE JEALOUS LITTLE DOG.

My name is Curly. Iam a cunning little cream-colored dog. I
have a long bushy tail that curls wp over my back when I am happy,
and drags in the dust when I am sad.

I am usually pretty happy, for I have a sweet little golden-haired
girl for my mistress. She loves me very dearly; at least, I suppose
she does, from the way she squeezes me, and lets me lick her hands.
Her name is Ivy, and she is so kind to me, that I should never get
cross or sad if it were not for Tom.

T just wish Tom was dead. If I were big enough I would tie him
up ina bag and throw him into the river. Tom is a big white ‘cat
with sharp claws, and an awful appetite for beefsteak. He eats all
the meat that Ivy gives him, and then growls and spits at me till I
give him mine too. Half the time I am sc hungry that I could eat
Tom, hair and all, if he would only lie still and let me; but he
won't. He is just the meanest cat I ever saw.

The worst of it all is, Ivy seems to love him nearly as well as she
does me. She actually hugs him, and calls him her “ Dear kitty ,” and
Ican’t stand it. I always growl at Tom, and try to squeeze myself in


THE JEALOUS LITTLE DOG 29

between him and Ivy; but she says, ‘‘ Ah, you naughty dog, you’re

jealous!”
Jealous! The idea of a handsome, dashing dog, like me, being







Sue
aah

i
WH

jealous of an ugly old cat! I declare, such injustice almost breaks
my heart! Iam going off to lie down under the currant-bush now,

and try to die — if the fleas will only let me lie still long enough.
: C. M.
30 HOW TWO BIRDIES KEPT HOUSE IN A SHOE.





HOW TWO BIRDIES KEPT HOUSE IN A SHOE

THE morning was sunshiny, lovely, and clear,
And two little wrens were both hovering near;
Chirping and warbling with wonderful zest,
Looking for some place to build them a nest.

They searched the veranda, examined the trees,

But never a place could they find that would please ;
Till Mabel, whose eyes were as blue as the sky,
And very observing, their trouble did spy.
HOW TWO BIRDIES KEPT HOUSE IN A SHOE. 31

Then, quick as the thought darted through her wee head,
“T'll help you, dear birdies,” she lispingly said;

“You just wait a minute, I'll give you my shoe;

’T will make you a nice nest, as good as if new.”

With much toil and trouble she undid the knot,
Took off the small shoe, and picked out a spot
Behind a large pillar; there tucked it away;
And soon she forgot it in innocent play.



But the wrens chirped, ““Why, here is a nest ready-made,
In the very best place, too, and quite in the shade!”
They: went to work quickly, without more ado,

To keep house like the woman “that lived in a shoe.”

When evening shades came, at the close of the day,
And dear little Mabel was tired of play,

She thought of the birdies, and went off alone,

To see, if she could, what the birdies had done.

With heads under their wings, the wrens were asleep;
Side by side, in the shoe, they were cuddled down deep;
Then, clapping her hands, Mabel said, “Keep my shoe;

My new ones I'll wear, and this one’s for you.”
“ AUNT DEWBY.”
TABBY AND JOSEY.

Papa was on the back porch smoking a cigar Little John was
playing near by with a pretty wind-wheel papa had made for him.
Across the way two children were holding a yellow-and-white kitten
by the tail. Kitty struggled to get away. By and by she did get
away, and ran to Johnnie’s papa, who stroked her gently, saying,
“Poor kitty! poor kitty!” Johnnie gave her a saucer of milk, and
she ran up and down the piazza for a bit of beef tied to a string.
She lay down to rest after she had swallowed the meat — and part of
the string, which mamma had to pull out of her throat.

“She is such a homely eat, I don’t want her here,” said mamma.

“She is a beauty,” replied papa. ‘‘ Let her stay.”

“She is Tabby Wilson,” said John. Nobody could tell why our
- six-year-old called the new cat “Tabby Wilson,” but she goes by
that name. Tabby Wilson said John’s house was good enough for
her to live in, so she thought she would stay.

When Tabby Wilson had been with John a few days, in walked
a dirty little black-and-white kitten. She was very thin and sick-
looking, and Tabby Wilson flew at her, growling and spitting, with
her paw raised to strike her.

“Let Josey Brooks alone, Tabby Wilson!” screamed J ohn, taking
up the poor little kitten and stroking her.

“T shall not,” mewed Tabby Wilson, and she flew at her. But
John took the new kitten into the kitchen and gave her some milk.
So Josey Brooks and Tabby Wilson became our cats.

After a while Tab and Jo became quite good friends and played
together. John harnessed them to a pasteboard box. “ Get up,” he
cried. “I shall not,” spit Tabby. ‘‘ Nor I, either,” growled Josey.
They ran under a chair and crouched close together. _

“They won't drive, mamma,” whined little John, coming close to
mamma.

“They are ungrateful quadrupeds, then,” said mamma.

“Quadrupeds, mamma, What are they?” asked John, stopping
his whining at once.

“ How many feet has Tabby Wilson?” asked mamma.


LOWSER. 39

John seized Tabby
and counted, ‘‘ One, two,
three, four.”

“Very well,” said
mamma; “if she has
four feet she is a quad-
ruped.”

“ And is Josey Brooks
a quadruped too?”

“Count her feet and
see.”

“Yes, she has four; so
she is a quadruped. But
what am I, mamma? I
have but two feet.”

“You are a_ biped,
dear; so is papa.”

John threw himself on
the floor and kicked his
heels into the air, holding
Tabby Wilson and sing-
ing, “My kitty is a quad-
ruped, quadruped, quad-
ruped; but I am a biped,
biped, biped, biped.”

MRS. G. I. HOPKINS.





BOWSER.

Bowser is only a horse; but he knows how to behave when he
wears his Sunday suit. That is more than some children know.
There are little ones who make mud-pies when they have on their
best clothes. Bowser never does.

Bowser drags a cart on week-days; on Sunday he goes to church
with a buggy. When John puts the heavy harness upon Bowser,
34 , BOWSER.

the horse goes to the cart and backs in. When he is dressed in the
nice buggy-harness, he steps off proudly and gets into the shafts of
the buggy. He does this all alone. He never makes a mistake.

One day Bowser had a set of new shoes. When the blacksmith
put them on, he drove a nail into one of Bowser’s feet. John did
not notice it till they were almost home. When he saw that Bowser
limped a little, he said, ‘I must lead the poor fellow back, when
I get him out of the cart.”

They reached home, and John took off Bowser’s harness. As soon
as he was free, the horse turned about and trotted off. When John
called him, he did not mind. He went straight back to the black-
smith.

‘Hello, Bowser!” cried the blacksmith.

The poor horse said nothing, but he walked up to the man and
held out his aching foot.

Then the blacksmith put the shoe on all right; and he patted

Bowser kindl and said, ‘ You know a great deal for a horse.”
} ? ?
: Cc. BELL.



















































































7 itl

a i :

















“What are those things on the
stream ”
Said the cat-tails, quite un-
able
To make out, until they saw
By the brook-side, little Mabel.



“Ah, we have it!” then they



said,—

“'Tis a funny girl we know,
Broke a scarlet Poppy up,

Just to see the pieces go.

When she gets a little older,

Mamma then will say to
Mabel,

“ Put the scarlet poppies, dear, |

In a vase, upon the table.”



WHAT MABEL DID.
_ Mabel broke a px a

And threw the pee ‘on the
water ;



she played that they were
boats
i off, where toys are

wanted,
Pretty things, enough for
twenty.

Cats and donkeys; balls and
cs spooks, eee ee
nd a jumping“fack so jolly ;
And a pretty, zolcimmel tea-
se
And alittle coach for dolly.





















at




WILL-O’-THE-WISP.

3¢



WILL-O’-THE-WISP.

‘‘ Preasz, Will-o'-the-Wisp,
Don’t hurry away!

The rays from your lamp
Must light my lone way!”

“Ah, poor, little child! -“T dance all night long,-
Return, I entreat! Through blackest morass,

My path is too wild And where my lamp leads
For your tender feet. Your feet cannot pass.”

MOTHER CAREY.
GOING TO THE GOLDEN WEDDING.

PavuL was going to a golden wedding. Grandpa and grandma
had been married fifty years, and the children and grandchildren
were to meet at the old home. What a good time Paul expected !
Would the day never come? At last it dawned. So impatient was



Paul, that his papa allowed him to start’first. As he approached
the station, Paul saw a small dog pursued by a Newfoundland.

“Seize him! Shake him !” roared some idle boys.

“For shame! It is wicked to make dogs fight ! ”

‘Hear the goodie boy! Hear mother’s baby!”

Encouraged by the shouts of the boys, the Newfoundland sprang
upon the small dog.
GOING TO THE GOLDEN WEDDING. 39

“Oh, call him off! He’ll kill him! Stop him!” cried Paul.

“Shake hin! Shake him!” was their reply.

Paul’s temper rose. “I'll part them myself!” he said. Spring-
ing into the street, he seized the Newfoundland and held him firmly,
until his frightened victim had time to slink away.

“Bravo!” called a policeman; and the muttering boys fled.

“Why, why, what is this?” “Our Paul!” cried papa and
mamma. Here Paul’s strength gave way; he let go the Newfound-
land, and began to ery. But the officer told the story, and praised
him so highly for his courageous act that Paul felt like a man.

Following papa and -mamma to the cars, he was quickly forgetting
his adventure, when a noise under his seat caused him to look
down. What do you think was there? The Newfoundland! He
looked at Paul pleadingly, as if to say, “Oh, be my master! Speak
kindly to me; I’ve had blows and kicks all my life. I knew no
better than to fight!”

‘““O papa, may I keep him?”

“Tf no one claims him. But you must never get angry and strike
him; treat your dog as you like to be treated yourself, my boy.”

Paul promised; and could Rover speak, he would say that he had
kept his word: Paul was quite a hero to grandma and his cousins,
and grandpa was so pleased with his namesake that he bought
Rover the handsomest collar he could find. And both Paul and
Rover had great fun at the golden wedding


40 SAVED FROM FREEZING TO DEATH.









































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































SAVED FROM FREEZING TO DEATH.

Wuen Bobby Smart was six years old, he was left to the care of
his Uncle James, who lived in the country. His aunt took him to his
future home, and at the depot he saw his uncle for the first time.

Bobby was lonely and sad; his uncle often treated him with
harshness and even cruelty. The cold winter had come on early.
Bobby was the only boy about the farm, and he had to work
very hard. His clothing was unfit for the winter weather, and he
often suffered from the cold.

Among the duties which this poor boy had to perform was that
of tending a flock of sheep. One afternoon, when there were signs
of a snow-storm, he was sent to drive the flock tu the barn. He
started for the field, but his clothes were so thin that he was be-
numbed by the intense cold. He sat down on a large rock to rest
himself. He felt strangely tired and cold. In a little while he
began to feel drowsy. Then he thought it was so nice and com-
fortable that he would stay there awhile. In avery few moments
he was asleep, and perhaps dreaming. :

Suddenly he was aroused by a tremendous blow which sent him
spinning from his perch on the rock to the ground. Looking about
him, he saw an old ram near by. The creature looked as though he
had been doing mischief, and Bobby was no longer at a loss to
SAVED FROM FREEZING TO DEATH. Al

know where the blow came from; but he thought the attack was an
accident, and in a short time he was again in the land of Nod,

Again the ram very rudely tumbled him over into the snow.
He was now wide awake, and provoked at the attack of the beast.
He began to search for a stick to chastise his enemy. The ram
understood his intention, for he turned upon Bobby as if to finish
the poor boy. Bobby was forced to take to hig heels, and ran
towards home.

The ram chased him, while the rest of the flock followed after
their leader. The inmates of the farm-house were surprised to see
Bobby rushing towards the house as fast ag his little legs would
allow him. His hair was streaming in the wind, and he was very
much terrified. Close upon him was the old ram, kicking up his





























































































































































































































































































































































heels in his anger. Behind him could pe seen a straggling line of
sheep doing their best to keep up. tn

Bobby won the race, however. His uncle came out in time to
turn the flock into the barn. It was a long time before Bobby
would venture near the ram again.

Bobby knows now that but for the efforts of that old ram in
knocking him from his seat on that bitterly cold day he would have
been among the angels in a very short time. The sleepy feeling
which overcame him would have ended in death.

Bobby declares that the ram knew all the time what ailed him,
and that he butted him from the rock on purpose. I cannot explain
it, but do know that “God moves in a mysterious way his wonders

to perform.”
MRS. F. GREENOUGH.


THERE was only a little piece of garden
belonging to Lily’s home in the city. In
the bright spring days she went out there,
and watched to see if any flowers came up.
She felt happy when she found the first
blades of grass.

The poet sings that “‘his heart dances with the daffodils.” Lily’s
heart danced, one morning, when she found a dandelion among the
grasses in her yard, —a real yellow dandelion, with all its golden
petals spread out.

Just then, one of her playmates looked over the fence, and put
out her hand.

“Do give it to me,”

she said. “I sha’ n’t like you a bit, if you
don’t: I shall think you are just as stingy —”

“But it’s all I have,” said Lily; ‘I can’t give it away. I can’t.
Wait till to-morrow, and there’ll be some more out. They ’re grow-
ing. There ’ll be some all round to-morrow or next week.”

“To-morrow! I want it now, to-day,” said her friend, ‘“ to-day ’s
better than to-morrow.”

Lily looked at the child and then at the dandelion. ‘I suppose
LILY’S GARDEN. 43

it would be mean to keep it,” she said, “but it is so lovely — can’t
you wait ?”
“Oh, well, keep it, you stingy girl!”





































































“Come and pick it yourself, then,” said Lily, with tears in her

eyes.
The next day, when Lily went into the yard, there were a dozen
golden dandelions, like stars in the grass, and a little blue violet

was blooming all alone by itself.
MARY N. PRESCOTT.
INSECTS’ WINGS.



THERE is nothing
more delicate than the
wings of insects. They
are like gauze, but they
have a framework that
makes them quite firm,
just as the leaves on the
trees are firm from the lit-
tle ribs that are in them.

These wings are all
covered with hair. You
could see it under the
magnifying - glass, but
not without.

In some small gnats
the hairs spring from
each side of the veins,
like butterflies’ feathers,
or like blossoms on the
twigs in springtime.

Even the wing of a
common fly is very
beautiful. Did you ever
notice that if you take
a butterfly by the wings,
a colored dust is all over
your fingers? Then the
wingsare lefttransparent
where they have been
touched. If you should
put some of this dust on
a slip of glass and ex-
amine it, you would find
that each particle is a

little scale of regular
form and sometimes most beautifully shaped. But the insect flies
just as well without the dust.

wIDOLG J
THE FIRST BIRTHDAY. 45

Besides his regular wings, the fly has others for sails. They are
all lifted by a great number of little tough muscles in his sides,
Thus he moves in the air and darts away. Before he goes he
“»lumes” his wings, just like a bird. MRS. G. HALL.





MUST Tein Sele bya] ec Mts aD) Nae

One little year with its changeful hours,

Blossoming meadows and wintry showers,
Shadow and sun.

Shadow and sun, and rain and snow;

Morning splendor and evening glow;

The flying minutes, — how fast they go!—
And the little year is done.

What has it brought to the baby, pray, —
The princess who holds our hearts in sway?
A queenlier air,
A merrier laugh for lips and eyes,
A deeper frown of grave surprise,
A hundred ways that prove her wise,
And sweet as she is fair.

Kiss her once for the year that is done,
And once for the year that is just begun,

And softly sing, —
“The years that are coming so fast — so fast —
Each brighter and happier be than the last;
And every hour that goes hurrying past,

New gifts to our baby bring!”
; MARGARET JOHNSON.
THE BABY BEAR.

Onz day we stopped at the Hot Springs, about five miles from
Helena, in Montana. When I went into the reception-room, I was
surprised to find a little cinnamon bear, six
weeks old, lying on the sofa. I put my lit-
tle sister, who was about the same age,
beside him, and the bear curled up
close to her and went to sleep.
Before we left, we were in-
vited to go out and
see Master









Bruin — eat
sup-
per. A



large pan of bread and milk was placed before him. He pur his
forepaws into the pan, drew out the ‘pieces of bread and ate them.
Then he lapped the milk..

For a while he was allowed to run all over the house and grounds,
THE BABY BEAR. 4¢

He soon found where the sugar and molasses were kept, and helped
himself so freely that he had to be secured with a chain.

Not long ago Bruin slipped his chain from the pole to which it
was fastened, and climbed
a tree.

The chain caught on a
branch, and he found him-
self hung up in mid-air.
The proprietor of the
Springs heard his cries;
hastening out, he found
Bruin kicking violently,
and striving to reach the
body of the tree.
After a great deal
of trouble the
bear was taken
down, and was
glad to find him-
self once more
on solid ground.

During the
summer we often
called to inter-
view “his Bear-
ship.” After we
knew of his lik-
ing for sweets, we made it a point to take some candy with us.) He
seemed to know us, and to watch for our coming. Standing erect,
he would walk around us, hugging us with his forepaws. Then he
snuffed at each pocket, to find where the sweets were hidden.

Sometimes he showed his savage nature, for he would snap and
snarl if the promised treat was withheld.

When the cold weather caine, Bruin hid away in a large hole for
his winter sleep. He did not show himself again until the warm
days of spring.





































































pee |
H
i

GRACE C, FISK.
48 SNOWBALL AND THE LOBSTER.



h
iy ii

hp YI

oN



















































































Tom had just brought in something in a covered basket. He put

it down on the kitchen floor for a moment. Then he went into the
pantry to see the cook, and taste the fresh crisp doughnuts.

The two kittens had been enjoying a nap in the sunshine on the
wide window-sill. When Tom came into the kitchen, the noise he
made woke them.

Snowball lazily stretched himself and gave a great yawn. Then
he mewed to Kitty that he would like his dinner. He began to
hunt for some mice. Kitty purred that she would go with him
any where.

Snowball was a large white kitten, and wore a blue ribbon around
his neck. Kitty was younger and smaller than Snowball, and
always allowed him to take the lead in their adventures.

Kitty’s coat was gray, and her four legs were pure white. Mary
said she wore white stockings and white gloves.
SNOWBALL AND THE LOBSTER. 49

Snowball and his little sister were walking across the kitchen
floor, to the door. Snowball saw Tom’s basket, and went up to see
what was in it. With his nose he pushed up the lid of the basket.
He found something alive under it. He turned around to call



Kitty to come. In doing so, his tail fell across the now open
basket.

There was a cross old lobster inside the basket. He did not Iike
to have Snowball’s tail in his face; the hairs on it tickled his nose.
So he just caught hold of the tail with his pincers. He gave it a
strong nip, and would not let it go.
50 ' SNOWBALL AND THE LOBSTER.

Poor Snowball mewed piteously, and ran round and round the
kitchen, the lobster and the basket spinning around behind
him.

Seeing the trouble Snowball was in, Kitty gave one frantic
“mew” and ran out the door. She perched in safety upon the
fence.

The luckless Snowball pulled so hard that he drew the lobster
out of the basket. . He ran out into the yard and around the
house, where he was seen by the dog. Watch ran after the flying
lobster.

Tom heard Watch barking loudly, and went out to see what all
the fuss was about. He rescued Snowball from the lobster, and the
lobster from Snowball and Watch, and carried the shell-fish back
into the house.

As soon as Snowball was free, he ran under the house. He
could not be coaxed out all the rest of that day. He lay there,
sadly looking at his poor tail, and licking it from time to time.
Since then he has not seemed at all curious about baskets and

their contents.
EFFIE RODGERS,



“A TAIL PIECE


















CHANGEFUL LIT-
TLE HETTY,
SEE WHAT SHE
IS AT;
NEVER STAYS AT
ONE THING
LONG,
TURNS FROM
THIS TO THAT.



THEN SHE. WRITES
A WORD OR
TWO

OF HER COPY
FAIR;

THEN SHE BLOTS
AND GIVES IT
UP

THEN SHE
COMBS HER
HAIR.

SEW A BIT,
THREADS ©
HER NEEDLE,
THEN
STUDIES FOR A
LITTLE WHILE
' THEN 1S OFF
AGAIN,











TAKES HER SLATE TO CIPHER,





THEN BEGINS TO POUT,



CHANGEFUL HETTY.







HETTY, WITH

‘THAT'S THE WAY TO DO,”





JUST SO WITH HER
DRESSES,
TURNS FROM
BUFF TO
GREEN ;
THEN AGAIN TO
CRIMSON,
WHAT DOES
HETTY MEAN?


















DOES NOT MAKE IT OUT, Mamma says TO YOU,—
SAYS THAT EVERY THING GOES - “TAKE LESS WORK AND DO IT
WRONG ; .








WHERE? 53







































































































































































































































































































































































































WHERE ?

Wuere is the honey-bee ?
Where has the swallow flown %
Only the chickadee
Chirrups his song alone.

Where is the bobolink,
Bubbling with merriment?

What was the road, think,
The gadding fire-fly went?

Whither flew the little wings
Grown in green forest aisles ?
Where are the pretty things
That blossomed miles on miles ¢
MARY N. PRESCOTT.
TILLIE TEXAS.

We have had some funny boarders at our house. Tillie Texas
was about the funniest. She came one hot summer day, dressed in
a heavy black coat.

She was an entire stranger to all of us. She did not look or act
like any one who had ever before been among us. We were very
shy of her at first, and didn’t give her a warm welcome. By and
by we grew to like her and enjoy her society.









What do you suppose she was? A lady? No. A little girl?
No. Ill tell you. She was—a little bear! She was only six
weeks old when caught in Texas, and was sent to our landlady’s
daughter by express. She wore her name, “ Tillie Texas,’ on a
silver necklace. .

Poor little thing! She was too young to leave her mother, and
at first she cried like a baby if she was left alone. The landlady
TILLIE TEXAS. 5D

took her to her own room at night, and covered her up in a tiny bed.
At midnight she would get up and warm a bow] of milk. Tillie would
sit up and clasp her paws around the bowl to hold it steady. Then
she drank all she wanted. After this she would. lie down again and
suck her paw till she fell asleep. She made a humming noise all
the while, that sounded like the buzzing of hundreds of bees.

When she grew older she took great delight in standing in the



wood-shed door and attracting a crowd of boys to the fence. When
she was tired of walking on her hind feet and holding a stick in her
paws, she would go behind the door and close it in the laughing faces
of the children.

Tillie enjoyed jumping into a tub of water on a warm summer
day and splashing it all over herself. The little girls were careful
to draw their dresses close about them if they passed her in the
water; for she was very affectionate, and always wanted to give

them a hug with her wet paws.
FAITH WYNNE.

4
56 A QUEER PIN-BOX.



A QUEER PIN-BOX.

Trotty kept house in the closet of her papa’s library. She had
all her dolls in there, and a little tin tea-set her uncle had given her.
The dolls were all of rubber, except one; this was of wood. It had
been sent to Trotty by an aunt who lived in Michigan, very near
a settlement of Chippewa Indians. The doll had been dressed by
an Indian woman, and its clothes were covered with beads. Trotty
called: it her little Indian boy. She loved him very dearly, in spite
of the fact that she was obliged to whip him a dozen times a day.

But she loved Fanny, her big rubber doll, best of all. Fanny had
lost an arm, and there was a hole where her nose ought to have
been; but Trotty thought her beautiful, and always gave her the
best seat and the best bed in the baby-house.

One evening Trotty was watching her mother dress for a party.

“T can’t find a pin anywhere,” said Mrs. Ray. “It is strange
what becomes of them. I’ve bought paper after paper of them;
but can never find any when I dress.” ;
A QUEER PIN-BOX. 57

“Perhaps Fanny takes them,” said Trotty. “She may have them
in her pin-box.”

Mrs. Ray laughed. “I think not,” she said. ‘Fanny is too good
a child to take my pins.” .

But that night, when Mrs. Ray took Fanny out of Trotty’s arms,



after the little girl was sound asleep, she thought the doll seemed
very heavy about the head. She looked, and found that the head
was full of pins. Trotty had dropped them in through the hole
where the nose ought to have been.

Wasn't that a queer pin-box? .
FLORENCE B. HALLOWELE.
SAD!

THE horses came prancing around to the gate,
And Mabel and Myrtle and May

Went out in the carriage to take the fresh air,
All dressed very dainty and gay.

With ruffles and ribbons and pleatings and puffs,
With gloves and with handkerchiefs too, —
They sat very quietly folding their hands,
As proper young ladies will do.

The horses were jogging quite soberly on,
Behaving remarkably well,

When all on a sudden a mishap occurred,
Most shocking and mournful to tell.

For, watching them slyly from under the hedge,
A threatening enemy sat,

With glowering eyes and with wide-spreading tail, —
A dreadful and fierce-looking cat.

And Rover he bristled, and Carlo he growled,
And then— down the gravelly road
They tore and they dashed and they scampered along,
- Forgetting their dear little load.

They flew over ruts and they bumped over stones,
Then over a wall with a crash,
With carriage and Mabel and Myrtle and May, —

_ And all went to terrible smash.
SAD! 59

The mothers in tears and in grief and dismay
Came weeping and wailing around,

And wringing their hands as they wofully viewed
The ruin and wreck on the ground.



They tenderly gathered the poor little pets,
All battered and tattered and torn,

And dusty and draggled, — did ever yor hear
A story so sad and inion:

But the wise little mothers were quickly at work,
And with needle and thread and some glue
Soon each little dolly was looking as sweet

And lovely as when she was new.
SYDNEY DAYRE.


HOW THE BEARS HELPED ONE ANOTHER.

ps
f

S fen | i i
Fl i “A hel iA

Z fecal



Bos Bruin was a good young oe
bear, that minded what his father
and mother said to him.

“When you take a walk out of the
forest,” said Mr. and Mrs. Bruin to
Bob, “don’t go near those houses.
Men live in them, and they treat
bears very badly.”

“What do they do?” asked Bob.

“Oh,” said Mr. Bruin, “ some-
times they kill us and eat our flesh.
Sometimes they tie a great log to our legs so that we cannot run.”

“ Ah,” said Bob, “but I would bite them.”

“To prevent that, they will tie a great muzzle on your mouth ; so
keep away from them, Bob.”

Bob promised to obey. But one day, while walking outside the:
‘wood, he fell into a pit. He roared so loud that Mr. and Mrs. Bruin
came running to see what was the matter. When they came to the
pit, they saw some nuts, and fruit, and buns, lying on the grass.
So they made a step forward to get these nice things, when down
they went into the pit where Bob was, with the buns and nuts.

They then found that the food had been laid on twigs and leaves
_across the pit, which was dug as.a trap for them to fall into. But
how to get out was the puzzle.
HOW THE BEARS HELPED ONE ANOTHER. 61

After a little while Mrs. Bruin got on top of Mr. Bruin’s shoulders,
and so scrambled out of the pit.

““ Now, Bob, you do the same, and I'll tell you how you may then
help me out.”

So Bob got out of the pit as his mother had done. iY

“ Now,” said Mr. Bruin, “ go to the woods and bring back a stout

a vn SS
eet yy A

vy

NS BE

wane oy
art be 4



branch of a tree.’ They did so, and placed the end at, the bottom
of the pit. << |

“ Now hold the end tight on the top,” said Mr. Bruin, “tnd Til
try and climb up.”

So Bob and Mrs. Bruin held the branch at the top of the pit, and,
Mr. Bruin, who could climb very well, managed to scramble out of \
the pit.

They all went home again to the forest in safety, and had a long
talk about men, and their tricks to catch poor bears in pits. .

T. CRAMPTON.


WHY TOMMY WAS IN BED.

THE sun was shining brightly. It was only two o’clock in the
afternoon, and yet Tommy was in bed. The fact is, he had been
in bed since ten o’clock. Do you want to know why? You
may be sure it was not from choice, for Tommy was. very fond of
playing out doors, and was always the first to get up in the morning.



















































































But he was a very mischievous little boy, and liked to tease his
little playmates. .

“Oh, dear!” said his little sister Edith one day, “I wish my
hair was curly. I like curly hair so much!”

?

“T will tell you how to make it curly,’ said Tommy. “Put
mucilage on it to-night, and in the morning it will be curled tight

to your head.
WHY TOMMY WAS IN BED. 63

Edith was only three years old, and did not know that Tommy’
was teasing her. So that night, after her nurse had put her to bed
and had gone down-stairs, she jumped up and went into the library.
The mucilage was on a desk, and Edith emptied it over her head

and rubbed it in well.
Then she went back
to bed again, sure that
her hair would now be
curly.

Oh, what a little fright
she was when morning
came! Her pretty
brown hair was stuck
tight to her head in a
thick mass. Her mam-
ma tried to wash the
mucilage out; but it
could not be done.
The poor little
head had to be
shaved at: last.

“Tom must be

Tom was found
pile. You may be
found that he was















































































punished,” said mamma.
hiding behind the wood-

sure he cried when he
to be punished.

And that was the reason Tommy was in bed when the sun was

shining. Don’t you think he deserved to be there?

FLORENCE B. HALLOWELL.
HOUSES FOR RENT.





























For rent: a lovely dwelling,
Size, six inches by ten ;
One, I feel sure, would suit

Mr. and Mrs. Wren.

Situation, one of the finest

That can possibly be found: ©
On top of a slender lattice
Full six feet from the ground.







Near this is another man-
sion,
To be let out in flats ;
And it, too, has the recom-
mendation
That it is out of the reach
of cats.

———






















HOUSES FOR RENT. 65

Possession given in April ;
The rents, for all summer long,
Are a very trifling consideration, —
In fact, they are merely a song.

These bargains in country homes
‘Are to the best markets near,

And the price of seasonable dainties
Is very far from dear:

A strawberry or two blackberries
For eating four fat bugs,

And cherries without number
For keeping off the slugs.

Other things are in proportion,
And everything in reason,
From tender lettuce to peaches,
Will appear in its season.

From four in the morning till evening
These houses are open to view ;

And I wish I had a dozen to rent,
Instead of only two.

L. A. FRANCE.


THE THINKING OF ANIMALS.

OP gives to every animal just such
machinery as its mind can use. If it
knows a good deal, he gives it a good
deal of machinery; and if little, he
gives it but little.

Some animals do a great deal of

‘ Sei Wakinn about what they see, hear, and feel;° very
much as you do, only that you know more. Your
dog or cat knows a great deal more than an oyster;
Mercier your pets are given paws and claws and
teeth, for their minds to use.

T once knew a cat that was born in the spring-time after the
snow was all gone. When the first storm came the next winter,







































































































































































































































snow fell in the night and was more than a foot deep. Of course
“Smutty Nose” had never seen it before. When she came out in
TWO WAYS OF READING. 67

the morning, she looked at it with very curious eyes, just as you
would look at anything new; very likely she thought how clean
and white and pretty it was.

After looking at it awhile, she began to poke at it with first one
paw and then the other, several times, to see how it felt. Then she
gathered some up between her paws, as much as she could hold, and
threw it up in the air over her head; then ran swiftly all round the
yard, making the snow fly like feathers wherever she went. Now
do you not believe pussy was thinking and feeling just as you boys
and girls feel when you see the first snow, to know anything about
it? I do. Her mind was very busy in her little brain in these
sports, just as your mind is in your sports; and she enjoyed it, in

her way, just as much.
MRS. G, HALL.



Manet was a good little girl, but she did not like to study. She
told her mother she could walk and talk, and she didn’t want to
read.

Her mother was sorry to hear her little girl talk in that way.
68 TWO WAYS OF READING.

She told Mabel how foolish she would feel to grow up and know
nothing.

Mabel said she would like to learn if it was not such hard ‘work.

One morning Mabel lay on the floor with her book in her hand.
She said, “Mamma, I don’t think other little girls have such hard
times studying.”

‘“‘T know my little girl is not very stupid,” said her mother. “If
you would study your lesson instead of thinking how hard it is, you
would soon get through, Mabel. Put your book away now, and I
will give you a lesson without any book.”

Mabel was delighted to put her book down. She did not know
what her mother could mean. They put on their hats and walked a
great distance. At last they came to a shady yard with a large
stone building in it. Mabel’s mother asked to go to the school-
room. They were taken into a large room. Many little girls were
seated In a row, with books in their hands.

“Now, Mabel,” said her mother, ‘ see how nicely those little girls
study.”

Mabel looked at their books and said, ‘‘ Mamma, they are not
studying, for their books have no letters in them.”

Mabel’s mother then asked for one of the books, and showed it to
her. There were no black letters in the book. Mabel felt the page,
and found that it was rough. Her mother told her it was covered
with raised letters.

The teacher told one of the little girls to read for Mabel. The
pupil ran her fingers over the page, and read nicely. Mabel then
learned that the poor little girls were blind, and could only read by
feeling the letters.

Mabel told her mother that she had enjoyed her lesson without
any book very much, but she was so sorry for the little blind
girls. Her lessons would not seem hard again, when she thought

of them.
AUNT NELL.
KITTIE’S PIE.

—_

She caught her apron full of
snow,
This little girl so spry ;
And went and packed it on a
plate,
To make a frosted pie.

She put it in the oven then,
And when she thought ’twas
done.
She lifted out an empty plate,

And that’s what made the fun.







To go and do tae silly thing,

She was too old by half.
She said, “I wont tell brother
Fred,

*Twould only make him laugh.”
“
SNOWING. 71






















































































SNOWING.

Srowiy down from the low-hung clouds
Flutter the flakes of snow,

Over the country and over the town,
Swept by the winds that blow.

Down, down, down, till the frozen earth
Glitters in dazzling white, —

Till curves, and wreaths, and fleecy plumes
Are hung from every height.

Down till turret and church-spire blend ;
Down till the shadowy trees
ike white-robed guests, with outstretched
arms,
Wait in the wintry breeze.

Down they come in a feathery whirl,
Like sprites in an airy chase,
Till every tiny, separate flake

Has found its resting-place.
ELIZABETH A. DAVIS.
72 TWENTY LITTLE POULTICES.,



i

TWENTY LITTLE POULTICES.

Ir never would have happened if mother had not gone away, and
the twins had not been left by themselves because Hannah was
“preserving,” and if that grindstone had not been left out in the
yard.
TWENTY LITTLE POULTICES.

13

But mother had gone, Hannah was busy, the grindstone was
there, and it did happen, —this naughty thing!
The twins were sitting on the doorstep, eating bread and “’serves”

that Hannah had given them.









































































tes
4 AN i e
My

; H “A
f . HN
f 3 ( Ma —





















————









































TA (Pa:
a Nel ONG
hve Mt vl st re
fi eS yt] tanliyer |
We yi
ES BE \ Ex
| =e 5 =e eS yy
fle oa Ee SoS Ve, }
EE ES ve ee SS rd Z
a cea SS Ce eR ee Des Z
OS OP re I On
Le we SIE iw EE
FETE ANS

It was very warm and quiet, and

there was not a
thing todo. The
bees were busy
enough out there
in the clover ;
but then they
were bees, and
did not know
any better fun
than to work all
day.

Itwas Dell who
began it. She
always did begin
things, and Bell
had to follow.
She finished her
bread first, and
sat trying to
think of some-

thing to play.

Then she saw
that grindstone,
and said, ‘‘O Bell,
let’s grind!”
Bell swallowed
her last bite
quickly, and fol-
lowed Dell to the
grindstone.

Now they did not:seem to remember that some one, mamma per-
haps, had said, ‘‘ Never touch the grindstone, little girls.” Bell did
5
G4 TWENTY LITTLE POULTICES.

begin to remember, when, suddenly, there was ‘Dell turning that
lovely stone with both hands. Of course Bell had to get a knife
and hold it to grind.

They ground two knives, which they got from the kitchen when
Hannah’s back was fneeds Then they ground the hoe till it was
“awful sharp,” and some of the points off the handsaw. Then Bell
said, ‘‘ Let’s grind our fingernails!” They turned the stone, and
held their fingers on it; and at first it felt funny and “ ticklish.”
When they stopped, oh dear !—the tips of every one of those poor
little fingers were sore indeed, for they had ground the skin right
off, and the blood came.

They ran crying to Hannah; and what do you think ae did ?
Why, she put a little poultice of bread and milk on every one of
those fingers and thumbs on each naughty hand.

The twins were so ashamed to have mamma see those hands,
when they had promised to be so good! When she came home at
night, two sorry little girls met her, with their hands behind their
backs; and when she asked “ what was the matter with her birdies,”
they sorrowfully held up those ten — no — twenty little poultices.

E. 8. TUCKER.




RD.

Tury were sitting before the open fire, in the twilight, telling fairy-
stories. Frank had just brought in an armful of locust-wood and laid
it upon the hearth. Suddenly puss, who had been sleeping upon the
rug, waked, and climbed on the locust-wood and listened.

“She hears a mouse in the wainscot,” they said. ‘“ Hush!” All
were silent. Presently puss returned to the rug, and made believe
go to sleep. But she could have had only a cat-nap before she was
scampering over the wood-pile again. A beautiful blue-and-black
butterfly flew up into the warm firelight, as if he had mistaken it
for summer weather.

“T call that a fairy-story,” said the children. ’

Puss had heard the butterfly break the chrysalis.
MARY N. PRESCOTT.
WHAT THE CHILDREN SENT TO CHINA.

Buzz and Bess were at the seashore for the summer. All day
long they played and played until the sun went down. Buzz liked
to play with the little girls; Bess was his sister.

One day they found a boat on the beach. They thought it would
be nice to send it to China. They had heard something about China
being across the sea. Their Sun-
day-school teacher told them of
poor little children, also, “who
lived over the sea.

“Of course they all live in
China,” said Bess.

“Yes, there isn’t any more
over the sea’ but China,” said
Flossie.

“Let us borrow this boat and
send them something nice.”

“So we will,’ said Buzz;.
“something good to eat.”

“Something to keep for ever
and ever,’ added Flossie.

The children all went home to
get something for the poor China
children. Flossie brought a doll and some peaches. Bess had her
little arms full of blocks and books. Buzz brought two old tops, a
Chinese puzzle, and some dong Inuluts:

“Won't they be pleased!” said Flossie, clapping her hands.

“ We must send them a letter,’ said Bess.

“ And write our names,” added Buzz.

Bess ran for some paper.

“You must write it, Hoes for you make the best letters.’ So
Flossie wrote : —



DEER CHInA CHILDERN, — We ar sorry for u and send
u sum of our things. We ays in Boston.
Frossiz May,
Brsstz PARKER,
Buzz PARKER.
WHAT THE CHILDREN SENT TO CHINA. 7

The children put the letter where it would keep dry. They
pinned it in the doll’s dress. Then they pushed the boat away from
the shore, and saw it float off. : '

“Tt’s most to China now,’ said Bess, “ so let’s go and play church.”

































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































“Tt’s only out to Egg Rock,’ said Flossie. But they played
church, and soon forgot the China children.

The next morning, while the little friends slept, an old fisherman
found the boat. It was drifting out to sea. He laughed when he
saw the toys. He carried them-home to his children.

His little girl found the letter. When the fisherman’s wife read
it she said, “Bless their dear little hearts! They have made my
children just as happy as any China children could be.”










































































































A STORMY DAY.

Hark, how the rain is pouring!

Hark, how the north winds
blow!

Think of the poor, poor children

Who have nowhere to gO,

But crouch in sheltered corners

To keep from wind and rain.

Do you thank God, dear little
ones,

That you know not such pain ?

Then think of them with pity,

And try what you can do

To make the poor, poor children

Both warm and happy too.
MARY Et GELLIE.










































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































ON THE BEACH.

Dory and Dolly spent a whole day at the beach. Dory used his
shovel, and Dolly carted the sand he dug up im her little wagon. It
was a pleasant day, and there were plenty of people on the shore.

Among them was a very old man. His clothes were all in rags.
He said he had to take care of his sick daughter and his little
grandson. He had been sick himself, and not able to work. He
had come to the beach to dig clams, for they had nothing in the
house to eat.

Dory helped him with his shovel. While he was at work, Dolly
ran down to him with a silver dollar m her hand. She had found it
in the sand she had in her wagon. She and Dory talked it over.
Dory told her about the poor old man, and they agreed to give the
dollar to him.

They walked down to the water, where he was turning up the
clams. He looked very sad; but when the dollar was put into his
hand he smiled, and looked happy. Dory and Dolly eees happy
as he was, for “it is more blessed to give than to receive.’

UNCLE: FORRESTER.
FREDDIE’S PUZZLE.

I wonpEr why little boys like to make a noise, and why it is so
hard to keep still sometimes, and easy enough other times.

I wasn’t sent wp into the
attic because I was so bad,
but mamma said I could
make all the noise I wanted
to up here, and I would have
to be quiet in the sitting-room.

And now Tm here, and I f
don’t feel like making a noise jj;
at all. But I do not believe
‘it is as much fun when you
are allalone. JI like to blow
the whistle on my locomo-
tive, and drum, and play
wild Indian; and then
mamma says, ‘“ Be more
quiet, Freddie; you
are such a noisy boy!”
_ I try real hard to
be still sometimes; but the
minute I forget, I jump, and
shout, and act like a crazy
boy, Aunt Jane says. I don’t
believe mamma would mind it so much,
if Aunt Jane didn’t always say, “ Well,
I never saw such a noisy boy in my life!”

Perhaps when I grow older I shan’t feel so much like shouting
and hammering. I think Pll go downstairs now, and try to be still
five minutes. Oh, there goes Willie Brown with his drum! TL
get mime, and we will have a drumming match in the garden.





















































ANNIE D. BELL.


THE BUG WITH A MASK.

THERE is a funny little creature that wears a covering all over
his face just like a mask. And what do you think it is for? Let
us see.

Perhaps you have seen the beautiful dragon-flies
that look so much like humming-birds and butter-
flies too. They have broad wings, as thin as a fly’s,
that glitter like glass in the sunshine. Their backs
are just like blue steel.

You will always find
them in the hot summer
months flying through
the fields, or over ponds
and rivers. In the
country they are called
‘“‘devil’s darning-nee-
dles,” because they are
so slender, perhaps. The
French people call them
“demoiselles,’ which
means ladies.

Now this handsome,
swift creature grows
from an ugly bug, that
crawls over the mud at the bottom of
the pond. And this is the way it comes
about.

Little white eggs are laid on the water, the rip-
ples carry them far away, and then they sink into the mud.

The warm sun hatches them, and from each egg creeps a tiny
grub of a greenish color. They are hungry creatures, with very bad






















































Bd. THE BUG WITH A MASK.

hearts. They eat up every little insect that comes in their way.
They are very sly, too. They creep towards their prey as a cat
does when she is in search of a rat.

They lift their small hairy legs, as if they were to do the work. It
is not the legs, but the head that does it. Suddenly it seems to open,
and down drops a kind of visor with joints and hinges.

This strange thing is stretched out until it swings from the chin.
Quick as a flash some insect is caught in the trap and eaten.

This queer trap, or mask, is the under lip of the grub. Instead of
being flesh like ours, it is hard and horny, and pares enough to cover
the whole face.

It has teeth and muscles, and the grub uses it as a weapon
too.

It 1s nearly a year before this ugly-looking grub gets its wings.
A little while after it is hatched, four tiny buds sprout from its
shoulders, just as you see them on the branch of a tree. These are
really only watery sacs at first. Inside of them the wings grow
slowly until you can see the bright colors shining through.

Some morning this hairy-legged little bug creeps up a branch.
Then he shakes out his wings and flies away into the air,.a slender,
beautiful dragon-fly.

I have told you of the only creature in the world that wears this
curious mask.

MRS. G. HALL.


THE MOON-CLOTH.

















THE winter night fell all too soon ;
There was no. moon,
Save just a crescent that: seemed to be
ACsiver (6 ee
Written against the frosty sky,
So far and high.

















































































































































































Teddy was called, against his will,
From the coasting-hill.

The track was icy along the drift,

. And his sled was switt ;

So he the summons to hear or heed
Was loath indeed.

Even when the fire-lit house was gained
His frown remained ;
And he murmured ’twas hard for him
to see
Why the moon should be
Sometimes so round, like a great white
ball,
Sometimes so small.































































































































































Up spoke sweet Edith, sitting there
All Saxon fair :
“They hadn’t enough of the moon-cloth spun
For a larger one,
And they wanted to use this up before
They made any more.”



This satisfied dear little Ted,
And he went to bed;

But he thought of his precious penny hoard
So snugly stored,

And he wondered how much of a supply
His dollar would buy.
86 THE MOON-CLOTH.



























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































And he asked of Edith afterward,

How much the moon-cloth cost a yard.

MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.
°. oa = a
~“THE SNOW BIRDS. :
When skies looked cold and winter boughs
Gave out a crackling sound,
Two little snow-birds chilled, with frost,
Had fallen to the ground.
When Nelly came along that way,
And saw them sitting there;
She thought them dead, “But no,” she
said,
“They need a little care.”
She warmed them with her hand, and
gave
Them dainty crumbs to eat,
And then they oped their pretty eyes,
- And stood upon their feet.
And looked up sweetly in her face,
And chirped, as if to say,
“We thank you for your tenderness,’”
And then they flew away.

Where they had gone so suddenly,
She looked above to see,

And there they sat, a row of them,
Upon the maple tree.

They chirped and twittered as they
looked,
As much as they could do,
As if tosay “Sweet little girl,
We will remember you.”
And to a friendship very sweet,
Her acts of kindness led,
For often would they follow her,
And fly above her head.

But how they could remember her,
She never understood,

But papa said, “I think ’tis by

That little scarlet hood.’’


BERTIE’S BATH.

BErTIE’s papa was master of a large ship that sailed on the great
ocean. When Bertie was about four years old he and his mamma
went to sea
in the ship
with papa. Bertie saw many
curious things; but now I
want to tell you of a funny
bath he took.

One day he said, “I want to
bathe im the ocean water, mam-
ma.” The next morning his papa
had a man fill the bath-tub with
salt water from the ocean. Bertie
steppéd into the tub, gave a little
scream, and climbed up and sat
on the edge of the tub.

“Ha!” he said, “ the -ocean
water here is colder than the
ocean water at the beach. I
think I'll get out.” But he still
sat on the edge of the tub and
looked solemnly into the water.

Now it seemed as if Old Ocean
-meant that Bertie should get in,
for just then a big wave rolled under the
ship, and tossed her bow high in the air.

Bertie was thinking of the beach at
home, where he had played in the sand.
He had forgotten he was at sea. So when
the ship was tossed upon the big wave,
down fell Bertie, sousé, into the bath-tub.

Such a splashing and dashing and spluttering
you never heard! When he opened his mouth to scream, the
water rushed into it. At last he scrambled wp and stood in the tub,
and mamma wiped his face. Just as he was going to cry, he saw


90 LOST AND FOUND.

that she was laughing, and he could not help laughing himself. In
a minute he said, “The water doesn’t feel so cold now; guess I'll get
in again.”

In he plunged, and had a nice play. He had many baths after
that, and never minded the cold water. I think Old Ocean taught
him that when he had a thing to do, it was best to do it at once.

What do you think?
PARI ye

LOST AND FOUND.

Company was expected at Vine Cottage. Jennie’s mamma had
been busy all the mornmg. She found small time to look atter her
little girl.

Noontime came, and with it Jennie’s papa from his store. The
store was not far from Vine Cottage, and on the same street. It
was in a small country town, where grass and tall, rank weeds
were allowed to grow on each side of the streets.

Mamma’s eyes opened wide with surprise when she saw papa
enter without Jennie. “ Where’s Jennie ?”’ were the first words that
greeted his entrance to the kitchen.

“She has not been near me to-day, the darling,” said papa.

“You surely cannot mean this!” exclaimed mamma. “She is
always with you at the store, when not at my heels.”

“When did you last see her?” asked papa, anxiously.

“She came to me about ten o’clock, and asked for her little pink
gingham sun-bonnet. I tied it over her bonny brown head, and
she scampered away, throwing back kisses to me,” said mamma.

“Three hours ago! Bless her little feet, where may they not
have carried her in that time?”

Papa’s eyes grew misty as he ordered a search to be made for the
little lost one. Every nook in the old house was searched. Millie,
the cook, even looked into the great stone churn, though. it was one-
third full of rich sour cream.

Mamma’s eyes were red and swollen. No chip had been left
LOST AND FOUND. 9]

unturned, under which Jennie might be concealed. Once Sue thought
they had found her “swate gossoon ; but jist ye wait a bit!”

Pinned between a pair of fine sheets, in Jennie’s little bed, was the
old house-cat, Tom. He had on Jennie’s night-gown and cap. It
was no wonder he
had been mistaken
for his little mistress.

Papa says, “I won-
der where Rover is!”

Sure enough, where
was Rover? Papa
found him locked in
the store. He remem-
bered his coming and
his strange behavior.
How his small, yellow
legs did fly when the
door was opened, —
up the path which led
through the tall, rank
May-weeds to the
house! Papa followed
as fast as he could.
Rover stopped _half-
way up the path, and
































































~?

looking towards papa, : 7 :

whined. Ve ‘
Coming up, papa 3

saw something that : a

made him glad.
There, cradled deep
among the white blossoms, lay Jennie, fast asleep. Kisses awoke
the wee maiden, and she rubbed her sleepy eyes.

And now, whenever ‘I walk through country lanes, I recall with a
smile the noonday nap I took— There, little people, I’ve let the old

cat out of the bag; but’ never mind.
MOTHER CAREY.
MORNING—GLORIES.

Hurry! hurry! hurry ! Open quick your petals
Don’t you see the sun, Swift to greet the day.

Pretty Morning-Glories, — Higher! higher! higher !
Work not yet begun ? Catch the first bright ray.





Don’t you know the morning So be up and doing,
Is your little hour, Children of the sun ;
And how soon you're drooping For your chief adorning
If a cloud should lower? All his beams are spun.

ELIZABETH A. DAVIS.












Lirtte children, don’t you hear
Some one knocking at your door ?

Don’t you know the glad new year
Comes to you and me once more —

Comes with treasures ever new
Spread out at our waiting feet,
High resolves and.
purpose true
Round our lives to
music sweet ?

ee

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iy

mm
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ei
94 PLAYING GYPSIES.

Ours to choose the thorns or flowers.
If we but mind our duty,

Spend aright the priceless hours,
And life will glow with beauty.

Let us, then, the portals fling,
Heaping high the liberal cheer ;
Let us laugh, and shout, and sing, —
Welcome! Welcome, glad new year!
ELIZABETH ‘A. DAVIS.



' PLAYING GYPSIES.

Mase and Fay thought it would be nice to play gypsies and
steal their baby brother away from mamma. Then they would
make her pay piles of money for bringing him back. So they
dressed up, and were dreadful-looking gypsies, in slouched hats and
long coats. They hid little Georgie carefully on the front porch
behind some chairs and an open umbrella.

BAY
PLAYING GYPSIES. 95

Mamma was listening, and soon she said: “ Where is Georgie? I
saw some gypsies near here to-day; I am afraid they have stolen
im.” So she looked in all the wrong places she could think of,
Then she sent Dinah, the cook, and told her to offer ten dollars for
the lost baby.

him.

Presently the two dreadful gyp-





sies came in and asked her
if she wished to buy a
baby. She paid ten



found pieces of gilt paper to the chief of the robbers, which was
Fay, and got her dear stolen baby back. Then she “made be-
lieve” she had been very much frightened about Georgie. The
gypsies broke down, and one of them wept, because she thought
mamma really had been troubled. Then Mrs. Godwin kissed the ter-

rible gypsies and told papa all about it when he came from the office.
R. W. LOWRIE.
BECALMED AT SEA, OR THE UNPROSPEROUS VOYAGE.

Ox, bold and bumbly boomed the bees

All in and out the elder-trees,

When Vibe, in his bathing-rig,

Embarked upon his bread-tray brig,
His towel for a sail.

“Cmyos pero
—— Varyags-

















The lake stretched out before him vast ;

He used a fish-pole for a mast ;

For ballast, in his boots he cast ;

And paddling out, the shallows past ;
He waited for a gale.
BECALMED AT SEA, OR THE UNPROSPEROUS VOYAGE. 97

Then up there sprang a nimble breeze ;

It bent and swayed the elder-trees.

He held the mast’ between his knees ;

His hat was like a premium cheese :
To shade it did not fail.

Light-hearted was he, bold and brave,
As he went bobbing o’er the wave.

He heard the little riplets lave

Both fore and aft; light pats they gave
Beneath his bark’s gunwale.

And far and distant fades the shore ;

But now the breeze sinks more and more ;

He’s reached the middle deep, and o’er

Him creeps a calm. Without an oar,
What can him now avail?

The shady shore has long been passed ;

He feels the sun-rays hot and fast

Beat down. The sail clings to the mast ;

He wishes he were home at last,
Though people all may rail.

But oh, at last he spies his brother.
’Tis he! — he knows it is no other, —
Sent out to save by anxious mother ;
And here’s an end to all the bother, —
This creeping like a snail.

And now the tale is at an end.
Just let me say, my little friend,
If ever you like deeds intend,
Be sure, at first, the breeze will send
You home with well-filled sail.
ALICE SPICER.




































































































































































































Fry away, little birds,
"Tis your season to go;

The winter is coming,

With cold winds and snow.

The flowers have gone

From the meadows around,
To live in their seeds
And their roots under ground.















t A ?
SN . g
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“FLY AWAY, LITTLE. BIRDS. 101

The leaves have turned red
On the bushes and trees,

And fall from the branches
In every light breeze.

The moth lies asleep
Jn the bed he has spun,

And the bee stays at home
With his honeyed work done.

So now, little birds, .
You must hasten away

To the South, where the sunshine
And blossoms will stay.

But return with the spring,
When the weather is fair,
And sing your sweet songs

Tn the warm, pleasant air.
M. E. N. HATHEWAY.-


















































LIZZIE THE ELEPHANT.

WompBveEw.’s collection of wild beasts was once the most famous
in Europe. Among the animals was a beautiful female elephant
named Lizzie. While visiting a town in England, Lizzie was taken
very ill with an attack of colic. A doctor in the place brought some
medicine which saved Lizzie’s life.

Some days afterwards the animals were marching through the















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































street. Lizzie caught sight of the doctor standing in his shop, and
stopped at the door. The doctor came out to see what was the
matter, when Lizzie thrust her trunk gently towards the doctor's hand.
The doctor took hold of the trunk and patted it in a friendly
way, to Lizzie’s great delight. After a little of this caressing Lizzie
marched forward again with evident pieasure.

All animals are grateful for kindness, and none more so than

elephants.
T. CRAMPTON.


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THE YOUNG PREACHER.

Ont Monday, Steve, who had been to church the day before for
the first time, thought he would havea church of his own. The four
sisters were to be the people in the pews. Steve looked up and tried
to look as much like old Dr. Brown as he could, but I must say it
was not very much like him. Anyhow, he was satisfied, and his
people too.

He got on a stool, and that was the pulpit. The others were in
chairs. And if the young preacher did not speak very well, he spoke
very loud, and seemed to think that that was all the same. He read
from an almanac upside-down, and gave out some hymns from his
little sister’s spelling-book. Nobody sung them, so he said he would
preach some more.

I think he gave them, in all, some five sermons, all very much alike.
He then carried a lunch box around for the pennies. The girls all put
in spools, and he seemed quite as well pleased. He wanted to preach

again next day, but nobody came.
REV. R. W. LOWRIE.
LITTLE MISS JOSIE.

LittLe Josie is a very sweet child, with dark eyes and soft light
hair. She has a large dolly, and when she comes down in the morn-
ing with Miss Dolly in her arms, everybody is glad to see them both.
She talks a great deal, and sometimes we cannot make out all she
says, but we like to look at her and hear her sweet words.

























































































































































































































































One morning she went to breakfast in the big hotel all alone, and
had a round table and a big waiter for herself. Jim was very good
to the little lady, and proud to wait on her; but Josie wanted as
many things as two or three grown people would have wished. She
held out her hands for so many things that Jim did not know what
to do. Mamma came in and would not allow her little girl to call
for anything more for fear she should make herself sick.

M. T. H.
Tue lake in the woods,
And the lovely: wild flowers,
The musical breeze,
And the cool shady bowers,
Have used up the long summer

day.





The little ones then

Rejoice in a rest
Beneath the old trees,
The sun in the west,
The sheep.their companions at
play.

MARY BLOOM.
A VALENTINE.

106































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Ww



care

May all thy

h soul as white,

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As the page w

i

Dear ch

s be light.

3

May all thy tears be few
May all thy days be bright,

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nereon I wr

thy heart

om thee depart

fe fr

May peace dwell

1

May str

iends be true.

: And all thy fr

in

DOLLIVER,

CLARA G
WHERE THE PRETTY PATH LED. 107



WHERE THE PRETTY PATH LED.

Lirtte Fred went to spend his long vacation with his grandpa.
and grandma in the country. Fred’s grandpa had an old white
horse named Betsy. He had owned -her ever since mamma was a.
little girl, and Fred and Betsy soon became great friends.

Every day grandma would give Fred two biscuits, two apples and
two lumps of sugar in a little basket and he would take them over
to the pasture. Betsy soon learned to expect him, and waited for
108 WHERE THE PRETTY PATH LED.

him at the bars. She knew that half of what was in the basket
was meant for her.

A very pretty path came in at one end of the pasture. Fred
often wondered where it went, but he never dared to go in very far
alone. One day his two cousins, Alice and Frank, came to make
grandma a little visit. Grandma told Fred he must show them all —
over the farm. The next morning, after he had taken them out to
lunch with Betsy, he thought it would be a good chance to go down
the little path. Alice and Frank said they would like to go very
much. Fred was still a little afraid, and kept very near Alice. But
he forgot everything else, when, at the end of the path, they came
upon a lovely little pond. It was all covered with great white lilies
and their green pads.

They wanted to get some lilies to take home. They tried to reach
them from the bank, but lies have a provoking way of growing
just out of reach. Then they tried to hook them in with sticks, but
got only three or four, without stems. Then they looked for a
board to use as a raft.

At last Frank said they must wade for them. He and Fred took
off their shoes and stockings. pulled up their trousers, and went in.
Fred used a long stick to feel the way before him, so as not to get
into water too deep. _

This time they were successful, and got just as many lilies as their
hands would hold.

Grandma was delighted with them ; she said she had not had any
lilies from that old pond since grandpa used to bring them to her

years and years before.
MRS. F. T. MERRILL,
SANTA CLAUS’S LETTER. 109



SANTA CLAUS'S LETTER.

Curistmas was coming. Jamie and Ted had already begun to
write long letters to Santa Claus. But one thing was rather queer :
both boys asked him for the same things. na

Each little letter ended with, — “ Just like Brother’s.”

They agreed to ask for only one sled. They would rather ride
together. Now, was not this very sweet and loving?

‘One night, after they had gone to bed, Jamie said, “Ted, if Santa
Claus brings us skates, Jim can teach us how to use them.”

“O yes, and if we get fur mittens, it will be such fun to make a
fort.”

“ And a snow-man,” Jamie answered.

Ted went on. “Ill always ride the sled down a hill, and you
can ride it up.”

“T guess you won't,” Jamie said, speaking loudly.

“Why not?” Ted asked.

“Because it’ll be as much my sled as yours.”

“Yes, ’course,” Ted replied, “but I chose it first.”
110 SANTA CLAUS’S LETTER.

“You are a selfish boy!” said Jamie.

“Well, then, so are you!”

“T don’t care. I won’t sleep with you. J’ll ask mamma if I
can’t have the first pick ; 1’m the biggest,” roared Jamie, bounding
out of bed.

“You’re a big, cross cry-baby,” Ted shouted, jumping out after
his brother.

Away ran -Jamie to mamma, with Ted at his heels. Both were
angry. Both talked at Benes
once.

Mamma was grieved.
Her dear little boys had
never been so unkind to
each other before. She
kissed their hot faces and
stroked their pretty hair.
She told them how their
naughty words hurt her.
She showed them how
displeased God was to
see two little brothers
quarrel.

That night they went
to sleep in each other’s
arms, full of love and
forgiveness.

Christmas came at last.
Very early the boys crept
out of bed just to “feel”
their stockings.

Papa heard them, and,
remembering that he
was once a boy, lighted
the gas.

Each little red stock-
ing was full from toe to top. Boxes and paper parcels were piled
around them. Such shouting! Such a good time! It seemed as.
if all their letters had been answered. :

Suddenly Jamie cried, “O Ted, here’s a letter !”
eo put their little heads together, and with papa’s help spelled.

is out :—

My prar Boys,—No sled this year. It quarrelled so, I was
afraid to bring it. I dropped it off the load about a week ago.

Get ready for it next year. Merry Christmas! Santa Craus.
C. EMMA CHENEY


CATCHING THE COLT. 111



















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































CATCHING THE COLT.

Wirn forehead star and silver tail,
And three white feet to match,
The gay, half-broken, sorrel colt
Which one of us could catch?
112

CATCHING THE COLT.

“JT can,” said Dick; “I’m good for that;”
He slowly shook his empty hat.

“She ’ll think ’tis full of corn,” said he;
“Stand back, and she will come to me.”
Her head the shy, proud creature raised
As ’mid the daisy flowers she grazed;

Then down the hill, across the brook,
Delaying oft, her way she took;

Then changed her pace, and, moving quick,
She hurried on, and came to Dick.

“Ha! ha!” he cried, “I’ve caught you, Beck!”
And put the halter round her neck.

But soon there came another day,

And, eager for a ride, —

“T’ll go and catch the colt again:

I can,” said Dick with pride.

So up the stony pasture lane,

And up the hill he trudged again;

And when he saw the colt, as slow

He shook his old hat to and fro,

“She ’Il think ’tis full of corn,” he thought,
“And I shall have her quickly caught.”
“Beck! Beck!” he called; and at the sound
The restless beauty looked around,

Then made a quick, impatient turn,

‘ And galloped off among the fern.

And when beneath a tree she stopped.
And leisurely some clover cropped,
Dick followed after, but in vain;

His hand was just upon her mane,
GOING AFTER THE COWS. 113

When off she flew as flies the wind,

And, panting, he pressed on behind.

Down through the brake, the brook across,
O’er bushes, thistles, mounds of moss,
Round and around the place they passed,
Till breathless Dick sat down at last;
Threw by, provoked, his empty hat, —
“The colt,” he said, “remembers that!
There’s always trouble from deceit;

I’ll never try again to cheat!”
MARIAN DOUGLAS.



GOING AFTER THE COWS.

Two little friends trot side by side

Over the meadow green and wide;

On, and on, to the pasture gate,

Where Flossy and Bossy stand and wait.
Two little friends: one wears a hat,

Its broad brim hiding his cheeks so fat;

His eyes are blue, and his hair is gold,

And he’s mamma’s little man, five years old.

The other, —only a dog is he,

But honest and trusty, as dogs should be.
Without him, Johnny could never go
After the “great, big cows,” you know.
114



GOING AFTER THE COWS.

On, and on, o’er the fields so wide,
Johnny and Rover, side by side,

Hasten on to the pasture gate,

Where Flossy and Bossy stand and wait.



































































And now the pasture is reached at: last,
And doggie Rover barks loud and fast;
But Johnny —mamma’s scared little man —

Goes scampering off as fast as he can.

For the cows are big, and Johnny’s afraid;
And Rover can drive them without his aid.
And that’s always the way that Rover ‘and he,

Together, go after the cows, you see.
MARY D. BRINE,








































































































































































IN THE LANE.

A tone ride, and a merry one,
Down to the end of the lane,

Till old Jerry’s nose is close to the gate,
Then trot, trot back again.

Polly, Dolly, and Joe, and Dan,
With frolic and fun brimming over :
I’m certain one or more will fall off,
If Jerry should stop to nibble the clover.

But Jerry goes sedately along,
With Polly, Dolly, and Joe, and Dan.
Perhaps, after all, they will not fall off,
For they hold to each other as tight as they can.



L. A. FRANCE.
A LETTER TO MOTHER NATURE.




OU dear old Mother Nature, I
am writing you a letter,

To let you know you ought to
fix up things a little better.

The best of us will make mistakes —
I thought perhaps if I

Should tell you how you might im-
prove, you would be glad to try.

“T think you have forgotten, ma’am, that little girls and boys
Are fond of dolls, and tops, and sleds, and balls, and other toys ;
Why didn’t you —I wonder, now! —just take it in your head
To have such things all growing in a lovely garden bed?

“ And then J should have
planted (if it only had
been me)

Some vines with little
pickles, and a great big
cooky tree ;

And trees, besides, with
gum-drops and caramels
and things ;

And lemonade should bub-
ble up in all the little
springs.


A LETTER TO MOTHER NATURE. 117
“T’d like to have the coasting and the skating in July,
When old Jack Frost would never get a single chance to try

To nip our cheeks and noses; and the Christmas trees should stand
By dozens, loaded !—in the woods !—now, wouldn't that be grand ?



“Ah! what a world

madam, make

it would have

been! How could you,

Such lots of bread and butter to so very little cake ?
I'd have it just the other way, and every one would see
How very, very, very, very nice my way would be.

« But, as I cannot do it, will you think of what I say?

And please, ma’am, do begin and alter things this very day.
And one thing more—on Saturdays don’t send us any rain.
Good-by. If I should think of something else, Pll write again.”

SYDNEY DAYRE.






















































































QUEER CONVEYANCES.

Our little ones in the country may have smiled to see a chicken
mounted on the old hen’s back while she sat sunning herself in

Perhaps the young thing with few feathers sang a soft
At night he would

the yard.
“Cree-cree,”’ to tell that he enjoyed his position.
better like to be brooded under the mother wings.

When Biddy got upon her feet and went marching on, off tumbled
chick. Now he must use his own legs or be left behind. Those bits

of legs may well be weary sometimes with long journeys about the

farm. : :
One or two species of birds are known to fly long distances, carry-

ing their young on their backs.
- Small birds take passage across the Mediterranean Sea on the backs
QUEER CONVEYANCES. 119

of large and stronger ones. They could not fly so far. Their strength
would give out, and they would drop in the water and drown.

Along the northern shore of the sea, in autumn, these little birds
assemble, to wait the coming of cranes from the North, as people
wait for the train ata railroad station.

With the first cold blast the cranes arrive, flock after flock. They
fly low over the cultivated fields. They utter a peculiar cry, as





































































of warning or calling. It answers the same purpose as the ringing
of the bell when the train is about to start.

The small birds understand it so. They get excited. They
hasten aboard, scrambling for places. The first to.come get the best
seats. If the passengers are too many, some will have to flit back to
the hedges till the next train. How they chatter good-byes, — those
who go, and those who stay.

No tickets have they, but all the same they are conveyed safely.
Doubtless the great birds like this warm covering for their backs.
In this way the small birds pay their fare. And it is these last who
must be out in the wet if it storms.

The little passengers are of different species, like Americans, Irish,
Germans, and Chinese travelling together in cars or steamships.
120 _ PONTO AND THE MOON.

Their journey takes them through the air, high above the wide .
sweep of waters. They are close companions on the way.

By and by they reach the beautiful South country. There they
build nests and sing sweetly, as they build here and sing for us in
our happy summer-time.

Indeed, God cares for the sparrows.
LAVINIA 8. GOODWIN.



PONTO AND THE MOON.

Ponto, our puppy, does nothing but play,

In tricks and gay frolic he passes the day,

And at night he goes out to the-top of the hill,
And barks at the moon with a hearty ill will.

He seems to believe tis the terrible eye
Of a monster watch-dog up in the sky;
And it makes him angry to have it there,
Gazing at him with its bold, bright stare.

So instead of staying within his warm house,
And resting and sleeping as still as a mouse,
He sits out of doors and keeps barking aloud,
Till the moon goes down or hides under a cloud.

But puppies get wiser the older they grow, |
And Ponto will soon have more wisdom, I know;
He’ll care less for frolic and tricks by and by,

And he will not be vexed with a dog in the sky.
M. E. N. HATHEWAY-


PONTO AND THE MOON.
















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































Avown the garden path they came

With rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, —
My little pets, with hearts intent

On “giving Auntie a surprise! ”
ada BASKETFUL OF SWEETNESS. 123

Fach mittened hand the handles grasped
Of Bridget’s basket large and strong;.

And scarce above the ground it swung,
As merrily they trudged along. |

“What have you there?” I gayly cried.
Rang out their voices sweet and clear, |
“Oh! something very beautiful!
A present for you, Auntie dear!
You ’ll want to eat it up, we know,
And when it’s gone you’ll want some more;
For nothing half so sweet as this
Was ever brought to you before!”

“Apples, or cakes, or pies, or nuts, —
What can my present be?” asked I.
“OQ Auntie, you can never guess,”
The children answered, “though you try!”
Andon they came, the merry rogues,
With dimpling cheeks and shouts of glee,
Till at my side they stood at last, .
And offered their sweet gift to me.

And would you know what ’t was I saw,
All nestled down ’mid blankets there
In that big basket? Can you guess?

Only the baby boy so fair!
The baby brother sound asleep

In little cloak and hood so white!
From his new nest J lifted him,

And clasped my lovely present tight.
M. D, BRINE.
GRANDPA LYNN’S PICTURE.

ale
es



Mr. Lynn
was odd. He
would not sit for
his picture. It
was not because
he was homely,
for he was good-
looking enough,
as his wife used to say. But sit for a picture he would not. His
children and his grandchildren begged him to do so; but the more
they all begged, the more he wouldn’t.

So one day “big sister,’ as Susie was called, had an idea.
She was only twelve, but she could draw pretty well. So she sharp-
ened her pencils, and got out her paper, and “ took his picture on the
sly,’ the best she could. There he was, with his glasses on the top of


BEPPO. 125

his head, his hair all rumpled up, and one half of his collar turned
down right, and the other half turned up wrong. It was not, of
- course, half as handsome as he was, but we all said that it served
him right; and it did, too. “ Big sister” is going to be an artist, we

are all of us sure, though she says not.
R. W. L.



=
\P

Be



BEPPO.

Beppo was a donkey, or a burro, as the Mexicans called him.
He lived in Colorado. He was little, and furry, and mouse-colored.
He had great, sad eyes with long, dark lashes. When I first knew
him he had no home. He wandered idly about the village. He
126 BEPPO.

was beaten and ridden by the school-boys, and lived on whatever
he could find.
One day, when it was very cold, he came and stood by the fence,





looking wistfully in. His big, sad eyes were sadder than ever, and
his long ears hung meekly down beside his head.

“Are you hungry, old fellow?” I asked, as 1 opened the gate.
He gave me a look of assent, and I soon had the pleasure of seeing
him eat a hearty meal.

After that he came every day. He was very grateful for his food,
and would rub his head against my hand as if to thank me. He
soon grew very plump. Whenever I took a stroll he would walk
THE SELFISH GIRL. 127

along beside me. If he saw a boy, he would come very close to
me indeed.

One morning I heard some merry voices near my window. I
looked out and saw Beppo walking slowly by, with four laughing,
rosy-cheeked little girls on his back. Perhaps you will smile if I
tell you they were not riding lady-fashion either.

“Where are you going, Susie, Ethel, Mabel, and Maud?” I cried.

“We are going a-riding,” three of the little ones answered in
chorus. “ A-widing,” echoed little Maud, who sat upon the tail.

Alas! Beppo heard my voice, and not one step farther would he
go. I gave. Susie a large, yellow carrot; she held this on a stick
in front of his nose, and then he moved on.

He always walked so like a snail, that I feared he was infirm.
But one day when a pet mule was brought in from the ranch, I
found I was mistaken.

Beppo at once made friends with this little colt. He was very
playful, and I soon saw that Beppo could be quite as sprightly as .
the mule.

After that, whenever I took a ride on Beppo I let the mule come
_ too. We had lively runs over the broad, sunlit plains.

When I left Colorado, Beppo came to the depot to see me off.
I am almost sure I saw tears in his big, sad eyes as I bade him
good-by. JENNIE 8. JUDSON.

THE SELFISH GIRL.

I xnow two little sisters whose names are Ida and Jennie. Ida is
seven years old, and is a very kind, good girl. Jennie is five years
old. She is cross and selfish, and always doing something to tease
some one. Everybody loves Ida, and all of her playmates like to
have her go to see them.

But when Jennie visits any of her playmates she is always getting
into trouble, and they are glad when she goes home.

‘Whenever presents are sent to these little girls, Jennie is afraid
that her sister will get something better than she receives. A visitor -
once gave her a silver dime and Ida a nickel five-cent piece.

As soon = Jennie saw that her sister’s piece of money was larger
128 THE SELFISH GIRL.

than hers, she was sulky and began to pout. So her sister ex-
changed with her, and they went to the store to spend their money.
Then she was cross again because the storekeeper gave her sister more
tor the small piece of money than he gave her for the larger piece.

One day these
little girls’ father
brought them two
fine-looking peach-
es. One of them
was rather smaller
than the other, and
had a little speck
on it.

“Perhaps I
ought to give Ida
her choice,” said
the father, “since
she is older than
her sister.”

“No, | want my
choice,” cried Jen-
nie. “I want the
larger one.” And
she eagerly
snatched it from
her father’s hand.
He then gave the
other one to Ida.

When they sat
down to eat their peaches, Ida found hers sweet and juicy; but
Jennie’s was so sour and bitter that she had to throw it away.

When Ida saw that Jennie’s peach was not fit to eat, she was
about to offer her half of her own, but her father said, “No ; Jen-
nie must go without, as a reward for being so selfish.”

Those who try to get the best of everything generally fare the
worst in the end. H. L. CHARLES.






























































































































THE HURDLE RACE.

Eppy and John had some pretty rabbits for pets. They were so
kind to the rabbits that they became very tame, and learned some
funny tricks.

By and by Eddy and John asked their friends to come and see a
hurdle race run by their rabbits. The race-course was a ditch which
the boys had made, deat: from the rabbit hutch quite a sweep
around, and back.

Across the ditch, at short spaces, some little sticks were placed.
When all were ready to see the race, Eddy raised the door of the
hutch, and whistled. Out came the rabbits, hopping along as fast
as they could go. They jumped over each stick as they came to it;
this made it a hurdle race, you see.

Round the course they went, and back into their house again.
How the friends did laugh and clap their hands! It was a funny
sight. You may be sure the boys were asked to show off their

rabbit-race very often.
MRS. D. P. SANFORD.






























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































O—oh! O—oh!
Here we go,
Now so high,
Now so low;
Soon, soon,
We'll reach the moon;
Hear us sing,
See us swing,
Up in the old oak-tree.















O—oh! O—oh!
To and fro,
Like the birds,
High and low;
See us fly
_To the sky;
Hear us sing,
On the wing,
Up in the old oak-tree.
j Sue AB






















































































































































































A GOAT IN TROUBLE.

A rew weeks ago, as I was crossing a railroad track just outside
of the city, a little goat stepped before me. With a sad cry, she
seemed to ask me to stop. I tumed aside to pass on, but she kept
brushing against me, until I finally decided to find out what she
wanted. .

The goat had wandered from her usual browsing place. In cross-
ing the railroad track she had caught her chain on a rail, and could
not get away. I stooped down and let her loose. Then she pressed
against me as if to thank me, and bounded off quickly to her old
pasture.

If we would always listen to the cries of animals in distress, we
might do a great deal of good. Just after I had released the goat, a
train of cars came rushing along, and she would certainly have been

killed if I had not attended to her.
L. B. P.






























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#& TT hofe Wasps.

SCREAMING, running, tossing
up their arms, Patty and Pop-
py and Fan and Margery Ann
came into grandma’s_ kitch-
en one day. Into a nest of
“queer black and yellow flies,”
as she said, Patty poked her
dainty foot when out in the
field one day.

How the “flies” did chase them !

“Oh, Katy, they ’re killing us, the flies!” shrieked Margery Ann
at the kitchen door.



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“The flies!” said Katy, drawing her stout, red arms out of a

wash-tub.

‘They ’re wasps, and they are chasin’ ye, the mane

craturs! Out wid ye!” shouted Katy to the invaders.
OH! THOSE WASPS. 137

Through the kitchen, into the dining-room, across it, along the
hall and up- -stairs to grandma doar, raced the screaming children,
the wasps in hot pursuit.

“Oh, grandma!” cried Poppy, “they're killing us!”

“Why, children, what ts the matter?” said grandma, whose
peaceful face and white cap had just been bending over the family
Bible and its picture of Jacob and those angels on the ladder, like
morning-glories on a vine. ‘Sit down on the lounge and tell me
what the matter is. Wasps, if I ever!”

Didn’t grandma spring then?

“Oh, here comes Katy!” she said.

“Yes,” cried Katy, swinging a broom in one. hand, shaking a
mop in the other, her eyes flashing like an express-locomotive’s
light, “I’m jist a goin’ for’em. I broom’em and then I mop ’em
up and Bauaze ‘em. Five quite dead in the kitchen. And here’s
bad luck to ’em up here!”

While Katy was driving like a tornado among the angry Wasps,
slaying in every direction, grandma was soothing the bitten arms
and legs. There they were on the lounge in a row, eight bare little
arms, and eight bare little legs also, for the wasps had put their
needles through the children’s stockings. Did they mean to darn
any holes there ?

When Major-General Katy had killed all the enemy with charges
of broom and mop, grandma asked for an account of the accident.
Then she said, “ Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“‘Let’s put them in a pail of hot water,” said Poppy.

“Pail of hot water! No; drown ’em in the freezing, freezing
ocean,” said Patty, shaking her head.

‘No, let’s go up just as easy as can be and pull their stingers
out,” said Margery Ann, who belonged to a Band of Mercy, and did
not want to kill them.

“No; I'll tell you,” exclaimed grandma, and she looked wise as
Moses in the Old Testament. ‘I would n’t go near them. That is the
best way for children to treat wasps, and a good many other things
in this world. Don’t go near them, and then you will never have
trouble. Ill get Patrick to go out some day with a lot of sulphur,

z
138 OH! THOSE WASPS.

a bunch of hay, and some matches, and he will take care of them,
The best way for you to manage wasps is to keep away from them.”
Patty and Poppy and Fan and Margery Ann thought it was queer



advice to such old children as they
were. As they all lived in the city,
and did not know much about the dangers
of the country fields, grandma continued to ©
look more and more like the wise Moses.
‘Fhey thought they would aot again go near those “ queer black and ~
-vellow flies.”



|

SSS






EDWARD A. RAND.
THE NEW BABY. 139°



































































































































































































































THE NEW BABY.

“How do you do, little Mary?” said I.

She put her finger in her mouth, but did not speak. I sat on the
sofa, holding the new baby. Mary did not like the baby, and that
was why she stood ever so far away and frowned.

“Ts your dolly pretty well?” I asked.

She blushed, and hung her head. Then she ran and climbed
upon mamma’s bed with that big, big wax dolly, and began to ery.

“Dear little Mary!” said mamma, putting her arm about her, and
holding her close to her heart. But little Mary only cried the more.

“Q mamma,” said she, ‘I love you, I love papa, I love all the
folks, but I don’t love the baby! Baby is naughty!”

' Mamma looked sad. She knew Mary had not been happy since
the little brother came. She did not like to have any one rock him,
or sing to him, or kiss him. She wanted all the kisses herself; and
then, too, she was so afraid mamma would forget to love her, now
that the new baby was here.
140 THE NEW BABY.

Poor little Mary! This was a sad mistake. Her mother’s heart
was very large, —large enough to hold and love two darling children
just as well as one.

I went away thinking how dear and sweet that baby was, with his
soft blue eyes, and smiling mouth, and cunning hands; but I did not
like to think his sister
Mary had frowned at him,
saying such unkind words.

Four weeks after this [
saw the pretty baby again.
He was pale and weak, for
he had been very ill; but
the doctor said he would
soon be well. He lay in
his mother’s arms, Mary
kneeling beside him, kiss-
ing his dear little hands
and face and feet.

“Mary loves her brother
now,” said mamma.

“Oh, yes; I knew that
the moment I saw her.’

“She was so sorry when
she thought God was going
totake himaway,” mamma
said, “and she means now
to be always good to him
if God lets him stay here
with us.”

“T’m so glad!” said I.

And then little Mary hid her face in her baby brother’s bosom,
and I heard her whisper, “I love mamma, I love papa, I love you,
and I love God!”

Tears came in mamma’s eyes, but she kissed her little daughter,
with a tender smile; and I thought I had never, never seen her
look so happy before.















SOPHIE MAY.
TWO RUNAWAYS.

Bess was the only one at all to blame; and if you had once
looked into her blue eyes, or felt her chubby little arms around
your neck, you never could have found it in your heart to scold
her. As for Prince, you can see by the way he holds his head that
he is really proud of his part in the story. This is the way it hap-
pened. Bess was spending a week with grandma, because some-
body’s baby in the very next house to where Bess lived had the
scarlet fever, so they sent her away to be out of danger. She was
as happy as a bird for three days, trotting after the chickens, poking
grass through the fence to the white calf, feeding the lame duck
with her bread and butter, and sailing peapod boats in the trough
where they watered the horses. Wherever Bess went, Prince fol-
lowed. You might have thought he understood every word when
grandma said, “Now, Prince, you must take care of Bess; I’d
sooner trust you than most nurse-girls.” He looked up in grand-
ma’s face with his soft, beautiful eyes, swung his great plume of a
tail, and whined a little, as if he were just going to speak; but from
that moment he seemed to feel that Bess was his special charge.

The fourth day was washing-day, and, to make matters worse,
grandma had a bushel of strawberries to can; a bushel of ripe, red,
delicious berries, and only one pair of fingers to pick off the trouble-
some stems. Bess helped, of, course, till her little red mouth, that
gaped like a robin’s, would not open for another one, and then
grandma carried her away to the bedroom for her morning nap.
There she lay on the pillow, watching a spider weave a lace curtain
behind the morning-glory vines, and though she was not very
sleepy, she would never have thought of getting up if someone had
not come in and left the door open. Someone was Sophy, who tip-
toed to the closet, got grandma’s bonnet and parasol, and tip-toed
out again, forgetting to shut the door.

“Did you notice if Bess was asleep?” asked grandma.

“Very near it,” said Sophy; “she lies there sucking her thumb, as
contented as an angel.”

“She’s safe for two hours, then, and when she wakes you can give
142 TWO RUNAWAYS.

her her dinner. It’s too bad about the berries, but sick folks are of
more consequence than berries,” and away went grandma to see
what was the matter with poor old Mrs. Dawson.

“T’ll just do those berries myself,” said Sophy; and she went to
work so busily that she quite forgot Bess, and did not hear a sound
when the little lady took her thumb out of her mouth, slid down
from the bed, and walked out of the front door. Prince was lying
on the step, but he got up, stretched himself, walked slowly behind
Bess to the gate, and stood patiently by her while she looked up
and down the road. There was not very much to look at, but pres-
ently a lovely butterfly came fluttering over the wall, sailed about a
great thicket of May weed, and then settled down upon a purple
thistle, waving its wings slowly as if it were half asleep in the sun-
shine.

“QO!” said Bess, her eyes dancing with delight as she saw it, but
before she reached the thistle the butterfly finished its dream and
went on. It was not in any haste; it stopped here and there for a
sip of honey, it dropped down on a spot of wet sand, it went from
side to side of the road, and still Bess followed, and Prince kept
close beside her. By-and-by the butterfly went over a fence into a
field, and Bess, with a little bit of disappointment in her heart,
pressed her face against the rails and looked in. It seemed to be a
field of lovely red roses, thousands and thousands of them, not
erowing on high bushes, but one- low mass of round, bobbing flow-
ers and dark greeri leaves. Bess thought she could get through the
fence, so she squeezed her fat little body between the lower rails
and began to squirm and wriggle. Prince had been uneasy before,
but now be thought it was time to protest; he whined, gave short
yelps, jumped about, and even caught his little mistress by the
dress, but she worked her way through, and rolled at last into the
bed of red clover, hot, tired, but triumphant. How sweet the blos-
soms were, and not a thorn to scratch the soft fingers that picked
them so eagerly till both hands were overflowing. And there was
the butterfly, going on now as if he had business to attend to, faster
and faster, and away up into sunshine. i

Bess began to be very thirsty, and wished she had some cool,




TWO RUNAWAYS. 145

sweet milk. Her legs ached, too, and seemed to get tangled up in
the clover, and presently, when she came to a snug little hollow,
with a crooked old apple-tree leaning over it, she sat down to rest.
Prince sat down beside her. Perhaps he was anxious, but I am in-
’ clined to believe he thought outdoors much better than in, and it
was not many minutes till the two were fast asleep. They slept
two hours, —at least, Bess did, —and there is no guessing how much
longer her nap might have lasted, had not Prince heard the dinner
horn which Sophy blew to call the men from the field. He pricked
-up his ears and moved a little; he touched the warm hand with his
cold nose, and even ventured to lick it softly. Then he lay very
* patiently until a squeaky old chaise came lumbering down the hill,
the rickety old top going “«d-cree, a-cree, a-cree,” with every step of
the steady, gray horse. This was too much for Prince; up he came,
his splendid head in the air, his nose pointed straight at the bars,
while his quick, short barks said, “See here!” as plain as you could
‘say it. Grandma understood him, too, and stopped old Ball, and
looked into the clover-field. Yes, there was Prince, and there was
a tumbled little heap, slowly getting up on to some fat legs that
were still half asleep. Could that be Bess? —

_ “My goodness, child! How did you get here?” asked grandma, as
she lifted her over the fence; and Bess really could n’t tell.

Old Mrs. Dawson -was n’t so very sick after all, and so grandma
hurried back to finish her strawberries; and the first that Sophy
knew of what might have happened to Bess was when she came
riding home in the creaky, old chaise, with Prince trotting proudly
behind. oe.

“She’s about starved, the blessed little soul,” said grandma.
“Give her bread and milk in the best china bowl; there’s no telling
what might have become of her if the Lord had n’t taken care of
her. Yes, and you, too, Prince; you helped, and you’re a good,
faithful fellow.

And Prince certainly looked as if he understood.
EMILY H. MILLER,
ONLY A CHICKEN.



A Recitation for Eight Little Girls,

FIRST.

A wonderful story I will tell:

A chicken crept from a broken shell,

And, standing on its tiny feet,

It peeped and peeped for a crumb to eat —
On a beautiful summer morning.

SECOND.

But out of a dark hole popped the head
Of an old gray rat; with a cautious tread
He stole along where the grass was thick,
And quickly pounced on the peeping chick
That, standing on its tiny feet,
Was crying for a crumb to eat—

On a beautiful summer morning.

THIRD.

Then out of a doorway leaped a cat
That put her paw on the old gray rat
That out of a dark hole popped his head
And crept along with a cautious tread
And a cruel look where the grass was thick,
To quickly pounce on the peeping chick
That, standing on its tiny feet,
Was crying for a crumb to eat —

On a beautiful summer morning.

FOURTH.

Around the corner there fiercely flew
A savage dog of a yellow hue
ONLY A CHICKEN. 147

That fixed his teeth in the tabby cat
That put her paw on the old gray rat
That out of a dark hole popped his head
And crept along with a cautious tread
And a cruel look, where the grass was thick,
To quickly pounce on the peeping chick
That, standing on its tiny feet,
Was crying for a crumb to eat—

On a beautiful summer morning.

FIFTH.
But a naughty boy with a wicked sling
Of a crotched stick and a rubber string
Looked over the fence with a mean intent,
And a smooth, round pebble swiftly sent
That struck the dog of a yellow hue
That ’round the corner fiercely flew
And fixed his teeth in the tabby cat
That put her paw on the old gray rat
That out of a dark hole popped his head
And crept along with a cautious tread
And a cruel look, where the grass was thick,
To quickly pounce on the peeping chick
That, standing on its tiny feet, .
Was crying for a crumb to eat—

On a beautiful summer morning.

SIXTH,

Next came a man on the double-quick, —
Who beat the boy with a blackthorn stick
For hurting his dog of a yellow hue
That ‘round the corner fiercely flew _
And fixed his teeth in the tabby cat
That put her paw on the old gray rat
That out of a dark hole popped his head
And crept-along with a cautious tread

9


148

ONLY A CHICKEN.

And a cruel look, where the grass was thick,
To quickly pounce on the peeping chick
That, standing on its tiny feet,
Was crying for a crumb to eat—

On a beautiful summer morning.

SEVENTH.

The tumult caught the watchful eye
Of a tall policeman passing by,
Who, walking up with a pompous tread,
Arrested and nearly broke the head
Of the man who came on the double-quick
To beat the boy with a blackthorn stick
For hurting his dog of yellow hue
That ’round the corner fiercely flew
And fixed his teeth in the tabby eat
That put her paw on the old gray rat
That out of a dark hole popped his head
And crept along with a cautious tread
And a cruel look, where the grass was thick,
To quickly pounce on the peeping chick
That, standing on its tiny feet,
Was crying for a crumb to eat —

On a beautiful summer morning.

EIGHTH.

In a court of justice sternly sat

The portly judge in a white cravat,
Who told the sheriff, for lack of bail,
To put the man in the county jail

Who came in sight on the double-quick
To beat the boy with a blackthorn stick
For hurting his dog of a yellow hue
That ’round the corner fiercely flew

And fixed his teeth in the tabby cat
That put her paw on the old gray rat

























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5 ° Se i ,
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ONLY A CHICKEN. 151

That out of a dark hole popped his head
And crept along with a cautious tread
And a cruel look, where the grass. was thick,
To quickly pounce on the peeping chick
That, standing on its tiny feet,
Was crying for a crumb to eat—

On a beautiful summer morning.

ATs

The greatest evil often springs

From the ill effects of the smallest things;.

And all this trouble on many fell

Through a little chick from a broken shell—
On a beautiful summer morning.

Norre.— The eight little girls should be dressed alike——in “Old
Mother Hubbard” costumes—for this recitation. By teaching
them to act in concert at the repetition of each one’s part, a very
amusing effect may be produced. To do this will require consider-
able training and practice. Let the smallest girl begin the piece,
and the next in size take the second part, and proceed in this man-
ner, the tallest concluding the recitation.

EUGENE J. HALL


OUR MAY-DAY AT THE SOUTH.

Our in the woods we went to-day :
Mamma and Nannie, Freddie and May,
Charlie and I, and good old Tray,

Out in the greenwood to romp and play.

To-day, you know, is the first of May;
And we meant to be so jolly and gay,
And celebrate in so merry a way

That we could never forget this holiday.

So first we chose the loveliest queen,

The dearest and sweetest that ever was seen ;

For mamma herself was Her Highness Serene,
And we crowned her with rosebuds and evergreen.

Then we kneeled around and vowed to obey

All the laws she made, not only to-day,

But all the year through. Then she waved a spray
Of lilac bloom, and bade us all be gay.
OUR MAY-DAY AT THE SOUTH. 153

Oh the games we played, and the races we run!

The bars we leaped, and the prizes we won!

Oh the shouting, the singing, the laughter and fun, —
It were hard to tell who was the happiest one!

Then, rosy and tired, we gathered around

Our beautiful queen on the mossy ground ;

The hungriest group in the land, I'll be bound,
As the sandwiches, cookies, and tarts went round.



When the sun was low and shadows were gray,
Down from her throne stepped our fair Queen of May,
And through the green fields led homeward our way,
While we gave her sweet thanks for this beautiful day.

: L. A. B, ©.

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