a, rrS I %,
~-~,, I;~~ st3c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~~u/
-V I I
MAY AND ANDREW.
A FARMYARD SKETCH........ IO
A GAME OF FOX AND GOOSE.. 129
A LITTLE THIEF ............ 224
A LOVING SoN .............. 30
A READING LESSON......... 22
A ROSE STORY .............. 242
A SONG IN SEASON ......... 65
A STORY OF THE WAVES..... 250
A SUMMER WALK ........... 245
A WALK THROUGH THE WOODS 158
AMY, OUR DARLING........... 48
ANNIE AND EDITH ........... 106
BABY IS ILL................ 168
BABY IS KING .............. 84
BABY'S BATH ............... 60
BABY'S W ORK ............... 219
BESSIE AND THE TORTOISE .... 248
BLOWING BUBBLES ........... 76
BOBBY AND PRISSY ........... 100
CASHMERE GOATS............. 156
CAUGHT BY THE TIDE ........ 118
CHESTNUT GATHERERS ........ 114
CONNY'S MOTTO ............. 198
DAISY'S FLOWER-BED .......... 18I
DELAY NOT ................. 204
DINNER IS READY........... 201
DOLLY AND I........ ...... 16
D ON........................ 196
D ORA... ..................... 54
DORA AND WILLIE .......... 46
DR. MOUSE'S GREAT CURE. 136
D UCKS ............ ......... 89
ELLA'S CHRISTMAS .......... 68
EVERYBODY'S PET ............ 12
FLORENCE .................. 122
FLOWERS. ................. 155
FRANK ..................... 86
FREDDY'S SEVENTH BIRTHDAY.. 150
GATHER THEM IN ........... 46
GYP AND I ................. 190
I WANT TO BE A SOLDIER..... 192
INDEPENDENT TISSY .......... 78
JACK AND THE SEVEN GOLDEN
LADY WHITEBREAST .......... 8
LAZY LILY'S STRANGE DREAM. 42
LITTLE BOBBY'S PLAYMATE.... 210
LITTLE ERNEST............. 172
LITTLE MARY.............. 126
LITTLE TEACHERS ............ 114
LIZZIE'S BABIES........... .. 186
LOVE IN WORDS.............. 176
LOVE ONE ANOTHER. ........ 194
MARGARET KINGSFORD'S CON-
QUEST ................ 230
MARY'S SIXPENCE ............. 64
MAY AND ANDREW ........... 7
MICE IN THE CUPBOARD ...... 121
MR. OWL.................... 34
MY CATS. ..................
MY LITTLE DAUGHTER .......
MY LITTLE SISTER ...........
MY OLD TOM ...............
NAUGHTY TILDA .............
OLD FOLKS. .................
OLD OSCAR. ................
OLD ROLLINGSTONE ..........
OSTRICH FEATHERS ..........
OUR KITTY'S PORTRAIT. ......
OUR NOISY NEIGHBOR........
OUR OWLS .................
PANTHERS AND WILD-CATS....
PINCHER AND PUSS.............
PLAYING GRANDPA ............
POOR PUSS .................
REACHING AFTER SUNSHINE ...
RING THE CHRISTMAS BELLS..
SHEEP-SHEARING .............. .
SOMETHING ABOUT FLOWERS...
SONG OF THE SNOW ..........
ST. VALENTINE'S DAY ........
SWEET CONTENT. ............
TALKING TO DOLLY ..........
THE BUTTERFLY. ............
THE CHURCH-GOING ROBIN ....
90 THE SEA SHELL WHISPER....
125 THE DONKEYS AND THE PICTURE
232 THE ELEPHANT .............
174 THE GOLDEN GEESE .........
214 THE HOLIDAY. ...............
148 THE HONEY-BEE ............
116 THE KING OF BIRDS .........
14 THE KNITTING LESSON.......
i6o THE LION AND THE MOUSE...
73 THE LITTLE RAIN-DROP......
66 THE PET LAMB .............
20 THE QUARRELSOME VEGETABLES
255 THE RABBITS ...............
202 THE RAVEN'S RIDDLE ........
163 THE ROBBER ...............
178 THE ROCKING HORSE........
213 THE SHEPHERD BOY .........
128 THE SNAIL .... .......... .
94 THE STORY OF GAFFER GREY.
36 THE TEACHER'S BABY ........
70 THE W OLF .................
93 TIMID ROBIN ...............
25 TOTTY'S CAT................
184 TOWZER AND TOM ............
81 TRUE STORIES ABOUT SQUIR-
37 RELS ..................
223 TRUTH.................... .
28 Two GOOD DOGS ............
258 WAITING FOR PUDDING.......
38 WAITING FOR THE TRAIN .....
51 WINTER ............ ........
MAY AND ANDREW.
HALL I tell you of one of the sweetest and dearest of
my little girl friends to-day? Though in telling you
of her, I must needs. bring in another little friend,
Andrew, her cousin.
All through the long bright days they played together, in-
doors and out; but of the many games they played May was
fondest of cat's-cradle, although it was with the greatest diffi-
culty she could remove with her clumsy little fingers the cord
from Andrew's hands.
One warm day in early summer, I remember coming upon
May and her cousin Andrew, standing at the edge of the lake
together. Andrew was teaching May to fish, and eagerly
showing her the way to hold her rod, and throw the line;
while May's little Scotch terrier, Toby, sat close by, sedately
watching the proceedings of his young friends. It was a pretty
group, seen against the trees, whose young leaves formed a
soft green background. The childish figures were reflected,
too, in the smooth water, which had scarcely a ripple on it.
There was just air sufficient to bow the heads of the tall flags
that grew upon the bank, but not enough to stir the water-lilies
on the surface of the lake.
A bite, May!-a bite!" cried Andrew, as he eagerly jerked
the rod, and up from the water flew a beautiful little white
fish, its silver scales glittering as it wriggled in the sun.
"I can't bear it, Andrew !" cried M;iy; "throw it in again:
poor little thing!" And the tender-hearted child shut her eyes,
and dropped the fishing-rod.
Andrew was rather angry, in spite of his warm admiration
for his little cousin; still, he obeyed her, and, unhooking the
lucky little fish, threw it back again into the river.
-i ADY WHITEBREAST was a very large, even noble-
I| looking hen, and a great favorite, not only in the
1-- poultry-yard, but of everybody besides. She belonged
to a little girl called Mary, and though Mary had ever
so many pets, she was especially fond of Lady Whitebreast.
And no wonder: Lady Whitebreast was so amiable and kind-
hearted, and though she was really the belle of the poultry-yard,
she never showed the least conceit, and did not put on airs like
the stupid Brahma hen, who was always strutting about and
pluming her feathers, as proud as a peacock, or as Punch, some
people said. Oh, no! Lady Whitebreast was far too sensible
a hen to imagine people did nothing but praise her for her
beauty. She knew they admired her large eggs, and she was
very careful in picking up lime, and all sorts, of things, to
make them as beautiful and white as possible, and though she
did take a good deal of time to trim her feathers, it was because
she liked to be tidy, nothing more. When Lady Whitebreast
was quite a young fowl, she did a very kind thing. A large
mother hen met with a sad accident, and was so much hurt
that she could not look after her young chickens. She turned
and looked with wistful eyes to the white Dorking hen, who
had only three chickens of her own, hoping that she would
take compassion on the poor, half-motherless little creatures;
but no, the white Dorking flew at them with all her feathers
ruffled, and pecked at them with her strong bill. Lady White-
breast's heart was sore for the poor little helpless things, and,
though she had never brought up a chicken in her life, she
spread out her wings, and chick-chicked to them to shelter
under her white breast. The little chickens were very glad of
such'a comfortable home, and were not long in pushing them-
Th- 1 .
LADY WHITEBREAST AND THE MOTHERLESS CHICKS
A FARMYARD SKETCH.
selves under her; and a good thing too, for their mother died
that very night. Lady Whitebreast, however, was so good to
them that they never found the want of their own mother, and
they all lived, even though it was a very bad season for rearing
chickens, and even the white Dorking hadn't managed to rear
A FARMYARD SKETCH.
HE day is cold, the snow falls fast,
And in the fields the timid sheep
Are glad of any hedge or shade
Beneath which they may creep.
Thrice happy they whose lot is cast
With master sensible and kind,
Who doth provide them shelter warm
From snow and biting wind.
See Tom, the lad, is coming out
To bring to them the welcome meal;
He knows that 'tis their dinner-time,
And hungry they must feel,
Contentedly enough they take
The turnips from his well-known hand;
And Tom with pride esteems his sheep
The best in all the land.
"Be kind to all," the farmer says;
And so his sheep are tended well;
Besides, he knows that sheep well kept
For double prices sell.
-I 1- T
TOM, THE LITTLE SHEPHERD.
$ NCE upon a time there was a little girl who was loved
j by everybody and almost everything. All the year
round she had friends who delighted in doing her
honor and showing how fond they were of her. The
robin perched upon her shoulder and her curly head, and there
sang his grace for the crumbs she had thrown him on the black
circle she had swept for him in the snow. The daisies kissed
her tiny feet as they tripped over them. Primroses, that no
one had seen before, put back the green leaves that hooded
their sweet faces to smile at her. Little lambs trotted up to
her on their funny little long legs, rubbed their heads against
her frock, frisked about her, and then cantered off, as if
saying, Come and run a race with us, little sister !"
The snowdrops lifted their heads for a moment when they
heard her footsteps, and when they were sure who it was, made
her the politest of bows. The honeysuckle brushed her face
with its sweetest clusters.
Larks high in heaven, that saw her passing under them,
warbled more exquisitely than ever, and then dropped at her'
feet to show her that it was for her they had been singing.
Those fairy goblets of gold and jewels-the dewy yellow and
purple crocuses-said to her, Taste our white wine;" and wild
strawberries peeped from the grass, whispering, "Do, please,
Hares and rabbits that had begun to run away stopped as
soon as.they found that it was only Pet who had startled them,
and snakes would let her pat them on the head with her spoon
without offering to bite her, as they amicably shared her bread
and milk. The sun-gilt gossamer wreathed her hat with gold
lace. No hen ever fluffed out her feathers if Pet took up a
chick, and the fiercest turkey-cock ceased to strut and gobble at
her approach. The golden daffodils began to dance when they
saw Pet, and the violets sweetly whispered, "We have made
your bed on this bank: lie down, for you look tired."
Ring-doves and turtle-doves cooed her off to sleep when she
rested in the woods, and bees hummed her lullaby when she
laid her head upon the summer-house table. Apricot- and peach-
trees, apple- and pear-trees, cherry- and plum-trees showered
down their petals on her, as if to say, "We are making fruit for
you as fast as ever we can." Frogs hidden in the rushes croaked
her a cheerful good-evening, and trout leaped out of the water
to have a look at her. If a Red Admiral, resting on a nettle
with folded wings, saw her coming, he instantly began to fan his
wings to delight her with his gorgeous colors; and peacocks
sow -- -
spread their tails for her amusement. The blackbird, that had
just become silent in the hazels, began to play again upon his
golden flute when he heard her silvery little voice; and the shy
little wren ran out of the hedges to chirp good-morning.
The hollyhocks planted on the side of the house where her
bedroom was grew faster than anywhere else, in order that
they might be able to peep in at her window with a Good-
morning, darling !" The tall white lilies stooped to kiss her
as she passed,-she was their fair, pure little sister.
Would you know how it was that everybody and everything
loved Pet ? Because Pet loved almost everything and everybody.
SOW I do wish you had known our great friend "Old
Oscar"! Not that he was such a beauty, for he was
shaggy and rough, but because he was such a good
dog, and the jolliest one for a romp. He never got
angry if you happened to give his hair a rather hard pull, or hurt
him in a mistake; but when any bad boys annoyed us, he showed
his teeth, and proved that he had plenty of courage. He was
a brave, fierce fellow, though to us he was as gentle as a lamb.
Of all his young friends "Old Oscar" preferred Johnny Wil-
liams, his master's little son. Wherever Johnny was there was
Oscar sure to be by his side. We used to say that they slept
together, and that Oscar and Johnny were to be seen in each
other's arms beneath the blankets at night; but this was only
fun, though we knew that he slept at Johnny's feet, and kept
them warm during the cold of winter.
Mamma could leave Johnny alone with "Old Oscar" under
the trees, feeling sure no harm would come to him. But one
day the angel of death came, and little Johnny was taken away
OLD OSCAR THE FAITHFUL DOG,
DOLLY AND I.
to live in heaven. Poor Oscar refused to eat, and paid no atten-
tion to any one, not even his little master's father, whom he
loved next to Johnny. He had crept to the spot where they
had played together so often, and laying himself down, had
breathed out his last sigh, thinking of him with whom he had
spent so many happy hours.
Carefully we lifted him up, and carried him home. With
many a tear we laid him in the garden beneath a plot of flowers
which had been planted and tended by the hands of him whom
he had so dearly loved. Do you wonder now that we loved
"Old Oscar," and thought him no common dog?
DOLLY AND I.
SLOVE my dear dolly;
I'll tell you her name,
I called her "Sweet Polly"
The day that she came.
My uncle John brought her
From over the sea;
And no one shall part us,
My dolly and me.
She has cheeks like red roses,
And eyes blue and bright,
That open with daylight,
And close with the night.
She cries, and says, "Mam-ma,
Mam-mam-ma," so well,
That it is not a baby
You scarcely can tell.
DOLLY AND 1.
THE LION AND THE MOUSE.
You know, I'm her own ma;
A small one, you'll say,
But just right for dolly,
Who wants naught but play.
No teaching, no training,
Few clothes and no food;
I like being her ma,
Because she's so good.
THE LION AND THE MOUSE.
LION was sleeping one hot summer's day,
Enjoying his afternoon doze,
But I don't think he snored in a lion-like way,
For a mouse ran right over his nose.
The lion was tickled, and woke in a rage;
The poor little mouse shook with fear;
He murmured, "Oh, sir, spare my life! I'll engage
You'll never again find me near."
The lion said, "No, your last moment is here,"
And, indeed, he looked terribly grim:
"For your children and wife you may drop just a tear,
Then I'll eat you, for that is my whim."
The little mouse cried, "If my life you but spare,
Your kindness indeed I'll repay."
The grim lion looked and said, "How can you dare
Talk nonsense to me in this way ?
"A pigmy like you neither friend is nor foe."
But the lion looked kind as he spoke;
He smiled, as he said, "There, I will let you go:
Now I'll sleep as I did ere I woke."
THE LION AND THE MOUSE.
The glad little mouse ran off very fast;
A grateful and gay mouse was he;
He thought to himself, though the danger was past,
"How good was that lion to me!"
Now before very long-so old stories tell-
The lion by hunters was caught;
He was wounded, and bound with strong ropes where he fell,
And his strength then seemed turned into naught.
The mouse heard the roar, which once frightened him so;
The cause he now hastened to see,-
Set to work with his teeth, when he saw his friend's woe,
Gnawed the rope through, and so set him free.
Now you see, little people, the weak and the small
With a will can do good if they choose:
Be grateful, and active, and helpful to all,
While you're children,-there's no time to lose.
- mL mm _
OUR 'IOISY NEIGHBOR.
iHIS is the cock that crows in the morn,
And wakes the neighbors ere 'tis dawn,
With a Cock-a-doodle-doo!"
So early he begins his rout,
He makes the servants all turn out,
Rousing the farmer's laziest lout,
With a "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"
" Get up and work!" he seems to say;
"I'll let you know the time of day.
It is not right in bed to stay,
When soon the morning flies away.
My friends, Cock-a-doodle-doo!"
"How can you do the most good?" asked
a lady of a little girl. "By being myself
just as good as I can be," was the wise
I- --"-I --'
A READING LESSON.
ARRY wasonly four years old, but he could read easy
words, and took great pains with his lessons. One
day his mother brought him a new book full of stories
and pictures, and Harry was much pleased with it,
but he saw that the words were too long for him to read with-
out help from some one.
There was one picture that he much wished to know about;
"It is such a funny picture," said he. Then his mother said,
"Come and sit on my knee, and we will read it together, and
I will help you with the long words."
Then Harry began the story of
9THE THREE TROUT.
"Jenny was a little girl with large brown eyes. She always
wore a cotton frock with large red spots upon it, and a very
large sun-bonnet. One morning when she awoke she said, I
will go fishing to-day.'
"So she went to the wood, and cut a long twig, and fastened
a piece of string to it, and put a bent pin at the end for a hook;
and as soon as she had eaten her bread-and-milk, she went to
a stream not very far off, and seating herself upon a bridge,
she let down her line into the water. Presently a little trout
popped up his head, and said, What are you doing here, little
"' I am fishing,' was Jenny's reply.
"'Ho! ho! ho !' said the trout, and he stood on his tail in
"Then another trout popped up his head, and said, What
are you going to catch ?'
"' Trout,' said Jenny.
A READING LESSON.
jIjI- !II FF-I `L
"'Ho! ho! ho!' said the trout, standing on his tail in the
"'Do you think you shall catch us with a bent pin?' said a
mj I --
A READING LESSON.
third trout, and he also stood on his tail in the water, and said,
'Ho ho ho!' just as the others had done.
"Jenny had never heard a trout speak before, so that she
was very much surprised, and said, 'I did not know that a
trout could speak.'
Then the first trout said,
'We can speak, and we can play,
As you will have seen to-day.'
"Then the second trout said,
SWe can speak, and we can sing;
We can leap, and we can spring.'
Then the third trout said,
'We can dance, and we can play,
And send little girls away.'
Jenny was too much surprised to say anything, and the
three trout began to play in the water, tumbling about in a very
odd way indeed; and they all three sang this song:
"'Three merry trout, playing about,
Wouldn't be caught as Jenny thought.
No! no! no! Ho! ho! ho!
So little Jenny away may go!'
"The three trout then shouted 'Ho! ho! ho!' in Jenny's
ears, till she became quite frightened, and ran home. And from
that time she never wanted to fish any more; she was so much
afraid that she might meet again with the wonderful trout."
VWHEN you rise in the morning, form the resolution to make
the day a happy one for a fellow-creature. It is easily done.
A kind word, an encouraging expression,-trifles in themselves
light as air,-may make some heart light for at least twenty-
-I r f -t
SOMETHING ABOUT FLOWERS.
*' In all places, then, and in all seasons,
Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings,
Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons,
How akin they are to human things.
"And with child-like, credulous affection
We behold their tender buds expand,
Emblems of our own great resurrection,
Emblems of the bright and better land."
O you know any one who is not a lover of flowers? Is
there anything more beautiful in the whole world than
they are? And how very different the world would
be-what a sad want there would be in it-if it wanted
flowers! Do we ever think what a great gift they are from
Him who gives so much ?
If there was only one kind of flowers,-pink roses, for in-
stance, with their soft sweet perfume,-we should admire them,
and be glad enough to have them, without dreaming of anything
further. But of roses alone there are nearly two thousand
varieties, of hyacinths more than three hundred, of dahlias
between two and three hundred, and so of many others of
our garden favorites. The tulip, of which there are nearly
seven hundred varieties, was so much sought for in Holland
at one time that a single root sometimes sold for two thousand
Almost all our garden flowers were wild-flowers once, though
appearing rather different, or grow wild still in many parts of
the country. Then we have taken the wild-flowers of other
lands, and brought them to perfection in an atmosphere like
their own,-the warmth of our conservatories. The most beau-
THE HOLIDAY Y.
tiful of all hothouse plants, the camellia, grows wild.in the
hedges of Japan.
Do you know that many of the flowers in our gardens are
really wild-flowers? but they have been brought to perfection,
until they are quite changed by years of culture and care.
Violets, carefully tended by skilful gardeners, gave seed which
produced flowers still prettier and more perfect; and from the
seed of these again finer flowers came, until at last the descend-
ants of the simple little violet were the large, brightly-colored
S IS pleasant on a holiday,,
SThe emerald fields to rove,
And all among the woods to stray,
And gather flowers we love;
To watch upon some sunny knoll
The shadows come and go;
Or by the streamlet's bank to stroll,
Where water-lilies grow.
SHE lifteth up her cup;
She gazeth on the sky;
Content, so looking up,
Either to live or die.
Content, in wind and cold
To stand, in shine or shower;
A white-rayed marigold,
A golden-bosomed flower.
GATHERING FLOWERS ON A HOLIDAY.
LITTLE maiden crowned with flowers
Passed through the vale at break of day;
Burst roses forth from summer bowers,
Sang birds a sweeter roundelay;
The while the maiden murmured low,
"Flowers blooming deck the vales below,
The mountain-tops are white with snow."
At noon she loitered by the brook,
And of its bubbling wavelets drank,
Then laid aside her rose-crowned crook,
And rested on the mossy bank;
The while she sang in murmurs low,
" In valleys fair the waters flow,
The heights know but the frozen snow."
At eve again the iiicle!i passed,
And purple mists around her fold,
But the sun-rays lingering to the last,
Have clasped them with a clasp of gold;
And still the maid in murmurs low,
Sang, "Summer rules the vales below,
Upon the I.ighlt lies winter's snow."
The shepherds watching as she went,
Saw blossoms spring where'er she trod,
And, wondering, named her "Sweet Content,"
And held her as a gift from God;
The while she murmured soft and low,
"Peace dwells in quiet vales below,
Storms gather round the heights of snow."
1~,I ~ ~
THE CONTENTED LITTLE MAIDEN,
A LOVING SON.
RTHUR was the son of a poor widow who could hardly
S earn enough to buy food for herself and son. She had
S no warm shawl, and could not go to church in cold
weather. Arthur felt sorry to see his mother kept at
home for such a cause. His sorrow was real too, for it made
him set his wits to work to earn money. He became bellows-
blower to the organist, ran errands for the neighbors and shop-
keepers, and sold oranges for the fruitman until he earned
enough to buy a cheap warm shawl.
He kept his plan secret, bought the shawl, carried it home,
and, stealing up behind his mother, spread it out, and laid it
over her shoulders.
"What is my boy about?" cried the widow, starting from
her chair. Then feeling the shawl, she grasped it and said,
"Why, what's this?"
"A nice warm shawl for my dear mother to wear to church!"
cried Arthur, clapping his hands and dancing around the room
for joy. Isn't it a beauty, mother ?"
When his mother learned how the shawl had been procured,
her heart was glad. Tears filled her eyes, and, pressing Arthur
to her breast, she said,-
"My dear, dear boy !"
Was not Arthur well paid, think you, for all his work and
pains in earning that shawl? I doubt if there was a happier
boy in the nation that night than Arthur. What made him
so happy? Love and duty! He had loved his mother and
lhad shown it by working very hard to buy a shawl. The gift
had become a joy to her lonely heart, because it made her feel
that her boy loved her,-that he returned love for love.
If my boys wish to taste Arthur's happiness, they can all do
ARTHUR SELLING ORANGES.
THE KNITTING LESSON.
it. The way is as open to them as it was to Arthur. They
have but to love their mothers dearly, and to show it by acts
of affectionate obedience. If they knew how much value their
mothers set on their love, they would love them dearly. Boys,
let Arthur's example teach you to love your mothers, and to
show that you love them.
THE KNITTING LESSON.
LICK! clack! the needles go,-
In and out, in and out,-
Polly's learning how to knit;
Granny never sees her pout.
She might think it something shocking
Not to want to knit a stocking!
"Put the worsted round one needle,
Stick the other through the loop;
Bring the wool just right between them,-
Hook it through,-my dear, don't stoop!
There!. you see, you've done a stitch!-
Knitting's good for poor or rich."
You sit by the fire, little children,
Your cheeks they are ruddy and warm,
But out in the cold of the winter
Is many a shivering form.
There are mothers that wander for shelter,
And babes that are pining for bread;
Oh, thank the dear Lord, little children,
From whose tender hand you are fed.
GRANDMA TEACHING POLLY TO KNIT
LIVE in a lovely nest, hidden among the ivy, on the
church tower. My wift-, daughter of the Grand Duke
S Owl, stays at home mostly nursing our three babies, the
loveliest little owlets that ever were hatched,-eyes as
big as saucers, and voices so sweet, that all the other birds fly
away when they hear them begin their evening songs. I can
assure you that the nightingales in our neighborhood come at
nights on purpose to take lessons from them, only they don't
want people to know.
When the great red sun is setting, we owls fly off to catch a
field-mouse or two for supper. The foolish little things build
tiny nests among the ripe wheat, and seem so surprised when
we stoop down and carry off one of them in our claws,-such
a rushing and squeaking; but that does not trouble us much,
so that we can catch one. All owls love mice, you know.
In some countries my brother owls are bigger and stronger
than I am. They can carry off rabbits and hares, like my
cousin Eagle owl, who is proud of his name, though after all
he is not so very like the great big eagle that can fly away with
a kid or a sheep, even a monkey if it comes in his way.
The Greeks dedicated owls to Minerva, the goddess of Wis-
dom. That shows how much they thought of us; not like
some of the foolish people of to-day, who think, when they
hear our cry, Huibou! houhou! bouhou! ouhou!" that some-
thing unlucky will happen to them.
But I myself am as wise and beautiful as an owl need wish
To confess your fault is the first step toward getting rid of it.
AN OWL WHO WANTS A MOUSE FOR SUPPER.
-I~~- 1 -
RING THE CHRISTMAS BELLS.
HRISTMAS bells, with your cheerful ring
And merry peals of gladness,
What joy and peace to some hearts you bring,
And to other hearts what sadness!
To-night, as your gladsome music swells,
Sad thoughts o'er my soul come stealing,-
Thoughts of the days, sweet Christmas bells,
When I loved your joyous pealing.
Christmas bells, Christmas bells,
Then I loved your joyous pealing.
But gone, sweet bells, are those happy times,
And I am now so lonely
That the sound of your merry, gladsome chimes
Brings to me sadness only.
For oh! that sound a sad story tells
Of the friends and hopes I cherished,-
Youth's friends, youth's hopes, 0 Christmas bells,
You remind me how they perished!
Christmas bells, Christmas bells,
You remind me how they perished.
Yet, gladsome Christmas bells, ring on,
The midnight silence breaking;
For while you tell of life's pleasures gone,
New hopes in my heart are waking,-
Hopes of a home where joy ever dwells,
Of eternity's glorious morrow,
Where Christmas bells, Heaven's own bells,
Will find not one heart in sorrow;
Where Christmas bells, Heaven's sweet bells,
Will find not a heart in sorrow.
ST. VALENTINE'S DAY.
AT-A-TAT, rat-a-tat, the postman's at the door;
We run to the window to see;
Pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, we scamper o'er the floor,
With great expectation and glee.
What wonder why we eagerly fly,
'Tis the morn of St. Valentine.
Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, he gayly hurries on,
To cheer and to make others glad;
Pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, as some their missives con,
Their hearts may be left cold and sad..
We wish them joy without alloy
On this morn of St. Valentine.
LL children like to catch and admire butterflies, but how
few have the slightest idea of what really lovely things
they are! I wish I could let you peep through my
microscope at one wing even; it is more dazzling than
diamonds and rubies, and oh, so wonderfully put together!
truly, not all the men in all the world" could make one. See
even this dust that sticks to my fingers; dust! why, it is thou-
sands of little shining scales all beautifully fitted into each other,
and all made to fit on a kind of frame-work, which forms the
wings you so heedlessly crush, and with these large light wings
a butterfly can fly a long time,-never in a straight line, as you
boys know, but up and down; this saves it from the birds
(and boys). You may watch a sparrow pursue a butterfly for
a long time, but though its flight is the swiftest, the butterfly
seems above or below the place where the bird thinks to catch
it. A gentleman, who 'has closely observed them, says that
supposing a painter was possessed of colors rich enough to rep-
resent in all their splendor gold, silver, the opal, the sapphire,
the emerald, and all other precious stones, he could not well
represent the various shades of beauty which God has lavished
on the wing of many a common butterfly, which we hardly
waste a glance upon. And oh, how it seems to enjoy life!
darting here, there, and everywhere, sipping sweet honey from
the flowers, adding fresh beauty to the earth God has made so
sweet and fair. How dull it would all be without the butter-
flies and the bees, the birds and the flowers! I trust you show
your thankfulness for all His gifts by being kind and humane
to the helpless creatures about you, never tormenting birds or
even butterflies; remember "the power belongs to God alone"
to make such lovely things, and surely we should not heedlessly
hurt or destroy them.
THE BUTTERFLY CATCHER,
i. ERE'S a pony can trot, sir, and canter;
i She can go like the wind when you want her;
JlJ' But she won't bear the spur or the whip, sir;
If you beat her she surely will kick, sir.
Just go to her gently and stroke her;
'Tis no use in the world to provoke her;
Only handle her kindly and well, sir,
And she never will play you a trick, sir.
Come on, pony,
Come, trot, trot away;
Come, dear pony;
We will all of us ride you to-day.
(OY, at all times tell the truth,
Let no lie defile thy mouth;
If thou'rt wrong, be still the same,-
Speak the truth and bear the blame.
Truth is honest, truth is sure,
Truth is strong and must endure;
Falsehood lasts a single day,
Then it vanishes away.
Boy, at all times tell the truth,
Let no lie defile thy mouth;
Fruth is steadfast, sure, and fast,
Certain to prevail at last.
ALL TAKE A RIDE.
_ ~ __
LAZY LILY'S STRANGE DREAM.
NCE upon a time, a very long time ago, on the borders
of a lovely forest lived a poor widow with her only
daughter. She was a very pretty, good little girl, but
she had one great fault, she was most terribly idle, and
cared neither to go to school nor to help her mother in her
household work. This was the more unkind of Lily, as, since
her father's death, her mother was obliged to work very hard
to find bread for herself and child.
One bright summer's day her mother was suddenly sent for
to do some needle-work. Before leaving she called Lily, and
begged her to do what she could to tidy the house, and make
things nice and comfortable before her return. But Lily sat
listlessly by the open door a long time after her mother left,
gazing idly into the depths of the forest, and watching the
pretty butterflies and birds that darted hither and thither
through the waving trees.
Ah!" thought Lily, "any time will do for my work. Mother
ought not to expect me to keep in-doors this fine summer day."
So away she ran, and commenced swinging on the gate with
some very rude boys that her mother had forbidden her to play
with. At length, quite wearied out, this disobedient child
threw herself down to rest beneath the shade of a large oak-
tree, and there slept long and soundly. Suddenly lifting her
head, Lily thought she heard a very strange noise, which seemed
to come nearer and nearer, and, springing to her feet, imagine
her surprise and dismay on beholding all her neglected work
advancing towards her! First came the bundle of fagots and
the coal-scuttle, with an old newspaper fluttering between them;
then the kettle, on three little legs, toddled after them; then
the broom, pail, flannel, duster, work-box, bustled along; and,
DISOBEDIENT LILY AND THE RUDE BOYS
LAZY LILY'S STRANGE DREAM.
lastly, her own Sunday white stockings, that her mother had
particularly requested her to mend very carefully, were now
very quietly walking towards her, the great holes in the toes
showing to advantage in the bright sunlight. As soon as this
extraordinary assemblage of forgotten duties came up to Lily,
they set up most appalling noises, shouts of unearthly triumph,
till the frightened child was almost stunned by the hideous noise
Light us quickly !" cried fagots and coals, tumbling over
each other. Fill me from the spring !" sang the kettle, at the
top of its voice. Mend us!" roared the stockings. Sweep,
wash, scrub, and dust with us!" vociferated the broom, thunder-
ing down upon her with wild yells of delight. Not content
with shouting, the broom commenced belaboring Lily so soundly
that away she started at full speed homewards, thinking the
best thing she could do was to clear up the place as quickly as
possible, unless she wanted the broom to break itself across her
Lily, like a good many little boys and girls, could work very
well if she pleased; and soon the fireplace was nicely swept, the
fire lighted (all the household utensils having reached home),
and, oddly enough, they none of them looked as though they
had moved,-indeed, it might all have been a dream for all I
know,-the floor nicely cleaned, the porch carefully swept out,
and supper laid neatly on the table.
Having made everything neat and nice, Lily washed and
dressed herself, and sat down to darn the old and neglected
stockings. She was awake enough now,-but her dream had
taught her a lesson.
"AH," said a little fellow to a companion who had just been
severely punished for some fault, "I guess you haven't got a
THE "TEACHER'S BABY."
3 HE darling little fellow,
He won't be in the way;
0 He comes with brother Frankie
To see the school to-day.
The teacher hangs his bonnet
Upon the nearest hook,
While lightly in his chubby hand
He holds his drawing-book.
He holds his pencil in his hand
With. gravity and pride;
Oh, such a drawing man, you know,
Must not be set aside.
Then standing by the teacher,
He says his A, B, C,
Then puts his arms around her neck,
And climbs upon her knee.
GATHER THEM IN.
PEN the doors for the children,
J Tenderly gather them in,-
'/ In from the highways and hedges,
In from the places of sin.
Some are so young and so helpless,
Some are so hungry and cold:
Open the doors for the children,
Gather them into the fold.
DORA AND WILLIE.
HE little brother is not heard,
The very bird is still;
SAll's sad and silent in the house,
Our darling is so ill.
The moon looks down in pity
Upon her fair young face,
And sheds upon her fevered head
Its calm and holy grace.
Nothing is heard but the tick! tick!
Of the clock upon.the wall,
Or the sigh of the mother watching
Lest her loved one should move or call.
Once more do the blue eyes sparkle,
The sweet voice carols its song,
As with brother Willie through the woods
She wanders the whole day long.
I .- I
DORA AND WILLIE.
For with golden gleams the sunshine
Kisses our Dora now,
Touching the curls as they gayly twine
Round rosy cheek and brow.
Oh, joyous health! oh, precious gift!
Come with the summer's light;
Never before sang the birds so sweet,
Never were days so bright.
I 11- -
AMY, OUR DARLING.
H, who is our household darling?
The girl with the golden hair,
With lips like ripe-red cherries,
And a face so sweet and fair:
Who comes with a smile in.the morning,
Who comes with a kiss at night,
With the voice like a bird at dawning,
With the steps of a fairy sprite.
I saw her this morning, smiling
Through' a bower of white and green,
The prettiest little darling
That ever mine eyes had seen;
Her arms were brimful of treasures
To show the birdies small,
As she sang them a morning welcome,
The sweetest birdie of all.
Never a pout of ill-nature
Spoils that mouth so rosy red;
Never a sulk or an angry frown,
A word that should not be said;
Ever a thought for the friends she loves,
Gentle, unselfish, and free;
No wonder she's every one's darling,
No wonder she's precious to me.
THE GIRL WHO NEVER POUTS.
IMID Robin, do not fear,
Come and pick the crumbs up here;
Nay, never shake your tiny head,
The sparrows will eat all the bread.
There are no berries for you now
Hanging upon the hawthorn bough;
Dear Robin Redbreast, don't be shy,
If you don't eat I'm sure you'll die.
When breakfast is put out for me,
I eat my bread and drink my tea;
It makes me strong, and merry too,-
What I do, Robin, you should do.
Ah! now he hops, and takes a crumb.
Dear Robin, are you glad you've come?
Another crumb, and then one more,-
Aunt Annie, he has eaten four.
How near he comes! He bends his head,-
That means, I thank you for your bread."
Now he opens his little bill,-
Sing to us, Robin. "Yes, I will."
Oh, what a merry tune he sings!
Now it's finished, he flaps his wings;
'Tis lesson-time,-he flies away:
D'ye think he'll come another day?
THE CHURCH-GOING ROBIN.
EAR little friends, do you ever have pet birds or animals?
I have had such a number! I think I must tell you
about a robin I once had who actually went to church!
I had found this robin when it was a poor little baby-
bird, or I should never have kept it in a cage at all; as it was,
my robin was tame, and used to be allowed to fly out of his
cage and stretch his wings. At that time I was a little girl
about eight years old; and very fond I was of my little birdie,
that used to hop on my finger and take food out of my mouth,
besides singing most sweetly. Imagine my distress, when, one
Sunday, just as we were going to church, the cage-door was
seen to be open, but no Dicky was there. We hunted every-
where, and I went to church a very tearful little child. My
kind mother tried to console me, by promising me a dog, cat, or
any other pet to make up for the loss of my bird; but I was
only thinking of Dick.
During the service my mother felt a fluttering under her
dress, and whispered to my brother, "I do believe that the bird
is under my skirt!" My brother suggested that she should try
and put it in his hat and he would secure it; but that was found
to be impracticable, so there was nothing for it but to sit still
the rest of the service, and walk home with extreme care, taking
pains, however, not to raise my hopes by hinting an idea of my
bird's extraordinary place of refuge. Arriving at home, my
dear mother went at once to her room, and, carefully raising
the skirt of her dress, out flew the poor little prisoner, right
glad to be released. How delighted I was to see my little darling
again! How I jumped and danced round it, and hugged my
mother in the fulness of my joy, after the fashion of children
when anything specially delights them! You may be sure I
took good care to keep the cage-door shut for the future, unless
I was near to see that my pet came to no harm.
TOWER AND TOM.
OM was a very fine black-and-white cat, a splendid
hunter of rats and mice, and as for the poor sparrows
who ventured to build their nests near the house, he
watched during every spare moment of the day for an
opportunity to pounce upon them. For ever so long, from the
time he was quite a small kitten till he grew into a large Tom-
cat, he had no rival whatever, but, as his little mistress said, it
was just as well, for if a strange cat entered the garden, or a
dog ventured to run in at the gate, he flew at them like a savage,
as if there ought to be no other animals allowed to live in the
world but himself. Why, hadn't he tried to kill even the in-
nocent canary in the drawing-room! which showed what a cross
temper and savage nature he had. Ah! that was a sore trial
to Tom, for he was not allowed to put so much as his nose into
the drawing-room ever after; he had been caught on the top
of the table, ready to spring upon the cage. It was like a
dream to him,-that pretty room, and the fun he often had
rolling a ball of bright-colored worsted in and out, and round
about the legs of chairs and tables, before he had spied out the
canary; but as he could never find the door open again, and he
was always driven down-stairs, even by Millie, his own little
mistress, if caught on the landing, he was forced to content
himself with the liberty he enjoyed elsewhere. When not
hunting, Tom's time was much occupied in cleaning his fur,
especially his white breast, for he was constantly having visitors
and others telling Millie her cat was really a beautiful creature,
so of course this made him very particular to keep his fur
glossy. He liked to steal away to a snug corner in the harness-
room, so that he could appear sleek and black in the dining-
room, for after hunting rats and mice he was in rather a rum-
pled condition. You can imagine, therefore, his surprise one
morning to find his favorite dressing-room occupied by a great
TOM AND TOWZER BECOME GOOD FRIENDS-
dog. Tom's temper was up in a moment, but though he puffed
up, and looked fierce, and made his tail stand up as thick and
bristly as a bottle brush, it had no effect whatever on the
intruder. Towzer, the coachmani's new dog, must have been
accustomed to cats, and their tempers too, for all he did was to
open a corner of one eye, and then, with his eyes tightly
closed, open his mouth wide, and yawn, showing such rows of
white teeth, that even Tom was impressed with the sight of
them. Such was the force of habit, however, that Tom was
quite miserable because he could not smooth his fur in his old
favorite corner; but after a few days a happy thought came to
his mind. In fact, he began to see it was no use to show any
temper where Towzer was concerned, so, watching his opportu-
nity when Towzer had again curled himself up on the straw,
Tom mounted on to Towzer's back, and proceeded to clean the
white breast, and wash his face with the often-licked paw, as if
no dog were there. Tom then tucked his tail round his paws,
and went to sleep on his enemy's back, wishing either to show
his contempt, or that he was determined to be on friendly terms
with this drowsy savage. Whatever Towzer felt or thought, he
said nothing, but slept calmly on, and so did Tom too, on that
and many days after.
AM sorry to say I have to tell you of one of my little
friends, whom I cannot hold up as an example to
any of my little readers. Dora is an only child, and a
very spoilt one, too,-though I ought to mention that
I think she is improving of late; and her improvement dates
from the event I am going to describe. It was a severe lesson
for her, but I hope and believe it will prove a useful one.
I I. L
1 .0 R .A.... .
Dora had a very naughty and stupid habit, whenever she
was found fault with, of saying she would run away. One
day, when the family were staying in the country, nurse
scolded her for drawing upon her books, and threatened to tell
.1 .. :.
'* I like to draw upon my books, and I will!" replied Dora;
Sand if mamma scolds me, I shall run away."
scolded her for drawing upon her books, and threatened to tell
'"I like to draw upon my books, and I will !" replied Dora;
"and if mamma scolds me, I shall run away."
Well," rejoined nurse, losing patience for once, as she after-
TWO GOOD DOGS.
wards confessed, "and it would be real kindness to us all, Miss
Dora, if you did."
Whereupon Dora walked out of the nursery, highly offended.
A little while afterwards mamma asked for Dora to go out
with her for a walk. The child was nowhere to be found.
Nurse supposed her to have gone into the drawing-room:
mamma thought her still in the nursery. The house was
searched in vain. Then nurse remembered the conversation
which had taken place. Dora had really run away!
Poor nurse ran this way and that, and at last found her,
without any shoes or stockings on, walking across a narrow
bridge, with her hands full of flowers. Nurse caught her up
and carried her home, when she promised mamma not to do so
TWO GOOD DOGS.
E once had a very handsome large dog, whose name was
"Derby." He was a very clever dog, and would
fetch papa's boots, open the door, ring the bell, and
carry things. One day when papa was working in
the garden, "Derby" was unusually full of play, and became
rather troublesome. He ran over the beds, breaking down
the plants, so he was told to go and lie down in the summer-
house. When papa went home he forgot all about the dog
until he went to the garden two days after, and there was
"Derby" still in the summer-house, waiting so patiently to be
told to get up. One day he went for a walk to a place two miles
distant from his home. Papa hid the handle of an axe under
a hedge, and pointed it out to the dog. The next day he
was told to' go and fetch it, and he brought it back home quite
One stormy winter's night papa was driving home from
TWO GOOD DOGS.
town. It was very dark, and the wind was so rough it blew
off his hat. In less than a minute the dog jumped on the
wheel, the hat in his mouth with hardly a spot of mud on it.
At last he became so old and diseased, papa was obliged to have
The dog we have now, whose name is Nelson," saved a little
child from drowning. She was the daughter of a coachman
who drove a carriage for a lady in the city. The lady is now
living elsewhere, and the mother and children cried bitterly'
when they had to part with him.
ERTAINLY Totty's cat was the best little cat in the
world, and it was as pretty as it was good, and so fond
of Totty that it followed her everywhere,-up- and
down-stairs, and into the garden; and Totty and her
cat had many a merry game of play together.
Totty's cat was black, and brown, and white,-its paws were
white, and so was its throat, and part of its face; and its fur
was very soft and warm, and its eyes were large and bright,
and it was always purring,-it was so happy.
When Totty called, "Puss, Puss!" up came the little cat;
and then Totty threw a ball to her, and Pussy leaped about,
and rolled over with it, and patted it with her paw.
Totty used to take Pussy's dinner out under the vine in the
garden, and hold the dish out of her reach until she said please.
I don't think I should have understood her, but Totty did.
One day Totty was ill, and could not play about, but was
forced to lie in bed all day. Puss went from room to room,
and did not know what to do with herself. Totty was not in
any of the rooms down-stairs, nor was she in the nursery.
But at last Puss went to the door of her bedroom, where she
waited until some one opened the door.
Then she flew into the room, and jumped on the bed, and
curled herself up by Totty. Though Totty was ill, she was glad
to see her little cat, and begged she might not be sent away.
So Totty and Puss spent the day together, for Puss would
not leave her, even to go to her dinner. But at night nurse
took Puss to her basket in the kitchen, and shut her up.
There she had to stay all night; but the first thing in the
morning she came to Totty's door again.
Totty was now well enough to get up, and to play about
the nursery, and Puss did all she could to show how glad she
was; for she loved Totty, and tried to tell her so, by rubbing
her soft head against her hand, and purring gently. How
grateful she was to her for her kindness I
NPLEASANT!" says the Sponge, "very unpleasant to
B be squeezed like this."
-< "Nonsense, you stupid thing," says the Water; -"what
are you made for I should like to know, if not to be
squeezed? You are not nice, soft, lukewarm water like me."
Don't talk so much, but mind your own business, and think
how I go on rubbing," says the soapy Flannel; "rub! rub!
if I didn't rub so hard we should never make a clean little girl."
I am glad to say that this little ear is quite clean now," says
the Towel, slyly; "now we have only the other one to do. I
have rubbed the little pink cheeks till they glow again."
First this little right shoulder, and then the left," says the
little clean Shirt. How white and dimpled they are! It is
quite a pleasure to touch them. I think they must belong to a
very good child."
"Well, we haven't got any thinner either in the night,"
exclaim the Socks to the little, round, fat, waddling legs.
Come, come, come, little horse, and be shod !" say the Shoes.
Up comes the Brush, bristling finely. "Let me see what I
can do here," says he; and soon the pretty golden locks are
disentangled. And Comb giving his assistance, a nice parting
is made, and then Brush says, I think we have done our work
"Over the head without spoiling the pretty curls," says the
Petticoat. "Yes, that's the way we do it."
"Now I'm coming!" says the little Frock, like a person of
importance for whom all the rest have been waiting. It knows
quite well it is a pretty blue frock, all trimmed with braid, and
that the little child chose the stuff to make it; and that it is
her favorite frock.
BABY IN THE BATH TUB.
WAITING FOR PUDDING.
"Now, if you please, I must come, for I am quite as impor-
tant, if not so gay as you," says the Pinafore; besides, I have
two little pockets."
"I live in one," says the Pocket-handkerchief, "and before
I get into it, I should like very much to know if the little nose
is quite nice and tidy."
Mr. Pocket-handkerchief being quite satisfied, a chorus of
voices shout, "All ready now!"
"Ah! but here is a tear, a stupid little tear, on my darling's
face. Never mind, I'll kiss it off," says Mamma, who came
into the nursery at that minute.
WAITING FOR PUDDING.
S]ERTIE sat in his high chair at the table. He was just
three years old to-day; and as it was his birthday he
was to have a whole mince-pie at dinner. One of his
birthday presents had been a book of pretty pictures
and stories; and he had learned these lines, which all the morn-
ing he had been saying over to himself and to nurse,-
"Little Jack Horner
Sat in a corner
Eating a Christmas pie;
He put in his thumb
And pulled out a plum,
And said,' What a brave boy am I.'
I shall be like little Jack Horner."
Then nurse said,-" But Master Bertie will sit at the table,
and eat his mince-pie with a fork and spoon."
"No," said Bertie, "I shall like to be Jack Horner; will
there be plums in my pie ?"
"There will be raisins and currants," said nurse.
WAITING FOR PUDDING.
Bertie's father had given him a box of bricks; and his
mother a stable with horses; and his kind uncle and aunt had
sent him a Noah's ark and a box of lambs with little trees and
fences; so that he had plenty of toys to play with.
But just at present Bertie was thinking more about his dinner,
and the mince-pie and pudding that were to follow, than he was
of his toys; and he called out,-
'Now, nurse, I am ready for pudding !"
,IHERE! I have drawn papa's and mamma's chairs into
.1I the right corners, for I know they'll be cold when they
return from their long ride. It is not time to toast the
bread yet; and I am tired of reading. What shall I
do. Somehow, the pale face of that little beggar-girl seems look-
ing at me all the time. I can see that glad light filling her
eyes, just as plain as I did when I laid the sixpence in her little
dirty hand. How much I had thought of that sixpence, too!
Grandpa gave it to me a whole month ago, and I had kept it
so carefully, in one corner of my red box, up-stairs; but those
large sugar-apples looked so beautiful, and then they were so
cheap,-only sixpence. I just made up my mind to have one.
I can see her as she stood there, just in front of the store, with
her old faded hood and ragged dress, looking so wistfully at the
candies laid all in a row close to the panes. I wonder what it
was made me say, Little girl, what do you want ?" How she
stared at me, just as if nobody had spoken kindly to her before.
But I guess she thought I was sorry for her, because she said
in a minute, so earnest and sorrowful, "I ain't had anything to
eat to-day, and I was thinking how good one of them ginger-
bread rolls in there would taste." Now, I thought to myself,
"Mary Williams, you've had a good breakfast and dinner this
day, and this poor little girl hasn't had a mouthful. Now, you
see, you can just give her the sixpence; she needs it a great deal
more than you." It was kind of hard, though, for there lay
the apples, looking so large and red, just like real ones, in the
window. I couldn't endure that little girl's sorrowful, hungry
look, and so I dropped the sixpence right into her hand, and
without waiting for her to speak walked straight away. I'm so
glad I gave that little girl the sixpence, if I did have to go
without the apple.
mU I -
A SONG IN SEASON.
THE ADIEU OF THE SWALLOWS.
HERE'S an edge on the whistling blast to-day,
And the swallows are gathering fast to-day;
"When such rude winds blow
It is time to go,"
They twitter, while hurrying past to-day.
"Borne over the seas on a trusty wing,
We came at the call of your gentle spring;
But we fear the snow.
Yes, it's time to go;
There is danger to us in dallying.
"Much love to this land of the kindly heart.
For a little season we now depart;
But ere long again,
By your lattice pane,
We shall flutter and cling, or sweep and dart."
. 1 -I
OUR KITTY'S PORTRAIT.
OME folks have puppies for their pets,
Some like a cockatoo;
But none so pretty are and soft,
My Kitty dear, as you.
Now scrambling wildly through the house,
Now sitting still with low mew;
My little roguish, baby cat,
Keep quiet while I draw you.
SITTLE children, never give
Pain to things that feel and liva.
Let the gentle robin come
For the crumbs you save at home,
As his meal you throw along,
He'll repay you with a song.
Never hurt the timid hare
Peeping from her green grass lair;
Let her come and sport and play
On the lawn at close of day;
The little lark goes soaring high
To the bright windows of the sky,
Singing as if 'twere always spring,
And fluttering on untired wing;
Oh, let him sing his happy song!
JLor do these gentle creatures wrong.
PORTRAIT OF A KITTY IN A BASKET.
AMMA," cried a dear little girl, rushing to her mother's
J side, and wishing her a happy Christmas,-"mamma,
C look here !" And the child, in breathless glee, held
towards her mother a handsomely-bound volume.
"Do you like it, my darling ?" answered the mother, as she
kissed her little girl.
"Oh, yes, it is beautiful; the very volume I saw in the book-
seller's window, and wanted you to buy for me a little while ago.
How pretty the pictures are! Oh, look at this Christmas-tree!
Doesn't it look tempting? The gifts seem fairly to hang from
its branches; but it isn't half so nice as the real one in our
drawing-room. Shall we not have some fun to-night, when all
our friends are here, and we get our presents from the tree!
What a good mother you are, for thinking of anything so
Ella, Ella, what a rogue you are! Here comes your father.
Go and meet him."
"A happy Christmas to you, papa, and a happy new year
when it comes."
"A happy Christmas indeed," was his playful rejoinder. "I
don't see how it could possibly be otherwise, whilst your little
tongue is keeping everybody in the house in good humor."
"Now,' papa, you are making fun of me."
"As present needs must be first supplied," said her mother,
"suppose you come to the table, and get your breakfast like a
good little girl."
"To be sure I will," said the child, humming the merry air,
"Christmas comes but once a year,
And when it comes it brings good cheer."
Ella Townley, an only child, was a very lovable little creature,
her parents' darling, and a favorite with everybody. Her
parents called her "the little sunbeam dropped down from the
skies," and indeed she seemed to merit the name.
The day wore on, and the child danced about from one room
to another, helping every one, or rather disarranging everything
A glorious Christmas-day it would be for her, she thought;
every day was happy, but this one was to be the happiest of
the year; for all her little friends were coming, with their
I -W -> _
parents, .to share with them the pleasures of the festive season.
She was beginning to be impatient for the arrival of the guests,
when at last a carriage drove up to the door, the bell rang, and
the child ran into the hall to greet the friends who had arrived.
The house was soon filled with company, and Ella flitted
gayly among them, receiving their good wishes with compla-
cency, and making them laugh with her comical speeches. The
festal board was spread, and around it many happy faces were
seen, but none so bright as little Ella's. Tea was over, and
games commenced,-hunt the slipper, blind-man's-buff, musical
chair, postman's knock, and many others were tried with per-
fect success; and, to crown everything, a beautiful Christmas-
tree stood in the middle of the drawing-room, and every one
received something pretty from its branches. What a splendid
tree it was,laden with everything that could please and delight!
and little Ella gave a present to each guest, as they were called
up by her papa, and wished them all the happiness she could
As the children's laughter was ringing at its highest, the door
slowly opened, and a little barefooted boy, with great wonder-
ing eyes, stood on the threshold. All eyes were turned on the
new-comer, for he was no invited guest. But the surprise was.
only shown for a moment. Ella took the boy by the hand and
"Why, it's Mike Murphy! Come in, Mike, and see the
Poor Mike needed no second bidding, and was soon standing
under the beautiful tree.
He was kindly treated by all the children, and sent home
laden with more goodies than he had ever seen in his short life.
The children, you may be sure, slept better for their kindness
OVER was one of the handsomest and one of the best
dogs I have ever known, and I have had a good many
dog friends in my time. He was a perfect pattern of
sweetness and obedience.
Now, I dare say if I were going to tell you a story about
some little girl or boy who was a perfect pattern, you would
say, "Oh, please don't! We like so much better to hear about
1, I I: I
-------_ ,--- .
little boys and girls who are not patterns,-naughty little boys
and girls, in fact."
But I hope you won't mind hearing about this pattern of a
dog. I don't think you would care so much for him if he were
naughty,-indeed, very few dogs are naughty. In that, you
see, they are quite unlike little boys and girls.
Of course they want teaching, just as little boys and girls do;
but when they have been taught, they very seldom forget, and
scarcely ever refuse to do as they are told. Rover would always
do what he was bid if he understood what was wanted of him.
And really he understood almost every word that was said. He
would give his paw to shake hands; he would fetch a stick and
carry it; he would go into the water and fetch anything out,
and once he went in and fetched somebody. That somebody
was a great friend and playmate of his, his master's little son
It would be endless to tell you. the romps and gambols that
these two, Franz and Rover, used to have together. They
would play at horses, or at soldiers. That was a very favorite
game. Fraiz dressed up in papa's wide-awake hat, and with
his sword slung across his shoulders. He was the general, of
course, because he could give the word of command, and Rover
was the army; and he would go through all manner of exer-
cises, with the gravity of an old veteran: shouldering arms,
and standing at ease, and marching along beside Franz, first in
slow time and then in quick time, with perhaps papa's great
hunting-whip in his mouth, just as if he knew all about it, and
had been a soldier all his life.
They would play at ball, too; in fact, at all sorts of games;
and Rover, though he couldn't laugh, poor dog! used to do all
that he could in that way, by wagging his tail, and barking,
and frisking about. Indeed, sometimes he frisked little Franz
off his legs. But Franz used to jump up again very quickly.
He was so small, he had not far to fall, and he really couldn't
be angry with Rover, even when he did upset him, for he knew
he did not mean to do it. But if ever he seemed the least bit
hurt or put out by Rover's roughness, the good dog would be so
sorry! He would go up to his little master, and lick him
gently, and whine quite pitifully, as much as to say, "Oh, my
dear little Franz, I do hope I have not hurt you! You see, it
is so unfortunate that I am such a very big dog, and that you
are such a very little boy. I do wish that you would either grow
bigger or that I could grow smaller, and then I should not throw
you down when we play together. Do say you are not hurt!"
And then Franz would put his arms round Rover's neck to
console him, and would say,-
"Never mind, my old dog, I am not really hurt; and very
soon I mean to grow quite big, just like papa, and then, you
know, we shall be able to play together quite comfortably
without your knocking me down."
AP AVE you ever wondered where the long white feathers
1 that little folks wear in their hats come from? Or
7"- 1' perhaps you have been to the Zoological G;i r Iii, and
seen the big, uncouth bird from whose tail and wings
they are pulled. What stumpy wings they are, and what a
clumsy, uncouth creature it is altogether! yet it can run so fast
over its native plains that the Arabs call it "the camel of the
desert," perhaps because of its long neck and legs, and because
it lies down in the same way by just bending the knee, then
leaning forward on the chest, then sitting down as it were on
its tail. These queer birds can eat almost anything,-wood,
metal, plaster, stones, and rubbish; but they prefer grass, insects,
and reptiles. They are sociable, for they may be often seen in
flocks in the desert; but the hunter comes and scatters them,
then away they fly at the rate of about thirty miles an hour,
too fast for even the Arabs to catch, so they follow the bird for
days, until they are too tired to run any longer, then make a
dash at them and strike them down with clubs, unheeding their
loud cries, almost like the roar of the lion. They are valuable
prey, for each bird yields half a pound of white and three pounds
of black feathers.
THE SHEPHERD BOY.
t BLITHE and happy shepherd boy,
S I trudge along across the lea;
In every little woodland flower
Some pretty fancy still I see.
The pimpernel's my weather-glass;
The fluffball is my watch so true;
It always tells the hour I want;
Town-lads, I would not change with you.
THE HONTEY BEE.
ONEY BEE, honey bee,
Why do you hum?
"I am so happy,
Summer has come.
"Summer and sunshine
Dearly I love;
Bright flowers around me,
-Bright skies above."
BLOWING THE FLUFF BALL.
-1 1 r
SOME, Vinnie," said Frank to his sister; "be quick;
We will blow such fine bubbles to-day!
The basin is ready, and so is the pipe,
And mamma has just said that we may.
So lay down your doll, for I long to begin,
And whoe'er blows the largest and brightest shall win.
"Oh, look, Vinnie, look! .What a bubble I've blown!
Such a beautiful yellow and pink!
'Tis the largest and brightest that I have seen yet;
And the highest, I do really think.
Now, Vinnie, 'tis your turn, and you'll have a try,
And I will blow, sister, again by and by."
So each blew the bubbles, and both did their best,
Till at length their mamma came to say
It was time to attend to their studies again,
And to put pipe and basin away.
"But first," said mamma, I've a few words for each;
Let us see if these bubbles some lessons can teach.
"There are bubbles of gold, of pleasure, and fame,
And their colors are gaudy and bright;
And many there are who the shadows behold,
That are dazzled and charmed by the sight;
But again and again they lead people astray,-
They are bubbles that burst, or soon vanish away."
SUR little dog Tissy was given to us when she was so
small we could put her in a muff. Of course we named
her at once, but as we happened to call her by a name
too fine to be easily pronounced, the servants renamed
her Tissy, and by and by we also found it was not so difficult
to say Tissy as Thisbe.
From the very first, it was evident that little Miss Tissy was
a dog of intelligence, but it was impossible to teach her any-
thing; she was so shy, and trembled whenever we gave her any
task to do. Compulsory education did not suit Tissy. She
played the truant if we wanted her to take a lesson, and ulti-
mately obliged us to leave her to educate herself.
Tissy is particularly fond of watching the fish in the aqua-
rium, and will sit for a long time with her little red tongue
sticking out as if mocking the goldfish.
But Tissy is never satisfied with the meals she gets at home.
She knows the dinner-hour of several houses in the neighbor-
hood, and regularly- attends for her share. She also goes on a
great many hunting expeditions, and occasionally brings home
something for the cat, probably as a compensation for the mul-
titude of tit-bits he loses by her agility.
One afternoon I saw her run up to a man who was breaking
stones on the road, and roll over on her back to greet him, after
her funny fashion. Now, as Tissy is usually very much afraid
of strangers, and will keep a long way out of their reach, I
could not make this out.
"Do you know my little dog ?" I asked.
Oh, yes, miss," he answered. She has her breakfast with
some of the men working on the road every morning. She'll
come at dinner-time, and tea-time likewise; but it was three
weeks or more before we could get her to come among us."
Last winter Tissy had two puppies, one so much smaller and
weaker than the other that it died about twenty-four hours after
it was born. Its death, however, was partly owing to its brother's
anxiety to have all the little mother's attention,-so we called
the survivor Cain.
When Cain was four days old, we arranged to go skating on
a pond about two miles and a half away from home. Tissy
was very anxious to accompany us, but at the same time she
was exceedingly loath to leave her tiny, blind baby. The
pleasure, however, proved too great a temptation in the end, and
off she scampered before us. All the way she ran hither and
thither, and enjoyed herself in the brisk, keen air, as if she had
quite forgotten the existence of little Cain. We arrived at the
pond, and she stood demurely watching to see what we were
going to do next; When we sat down to put on our skates, she
immediately concluded we were going to make a stay, and dis-
appeared. On returning home in the dusk, some hours later,
we met her half-way. She had, as we afterwards ascertained,
been to see her puppy, and then started back in search of us.
None of us can leave the house without Tissy's escort. She
will accompany us to the railway station, remain till the train
is fairly off, and return home alone. She will also go with us
to the door of the church.
Now, I think I have said enough to establish the right of
our little dog to the title of "Independent Tissy."
HE Spring is coming back again,
With her bright, happy face;
See how she frees the willing world
From Winter's fast embrace!
Old Winter's icy hands fall off,
Old Winter's reign is o'er;
Let him return from whence he came
Now Spring is at the door.
Spring, with her glowing sunshine,
And with her gentle showers,
Begins e'en now to waken up
The lazy little flowers.
She wakes the flowers, she wakes the birds,
She calls the butterflies;
The very air's alive with sound,
Up to the bright blue skies.
And, oh, how the children bless her!
What a true friend is she !
See how they throng the happy fields,
And greet her lovingly.
TRUE STORIES ABOUT SQUIRRELS.
(IrN nearly every country may be found one or more mem-
j bers of the squirrel family. In the large woods of
S Europe and of Northern Asia, in the chilly regions of
North America, in the sultry climes of Southern India;
ifideed, in almost every portion of the globe this pretty little
animal is to be seen.
Though generally supposed to be very timid and shy, many
cases are known in which it has been clearly shown that the
squirrel possesses not a little courage.
Many years ago some kingfishers were left on a table in a
room with three half-grown squirrels. On the owner of the
birds returning he found one of the squirrels busily engaged in
plucking the feathers from one of the birds. The next day a
young cuckoo was placed in the same situation, when it was
quickly attacked by a squirrel, which seized it under the wing,
where it was safe from the blows aimed at it by the bird.
A curious story is told about some squirrels. One day a boy
found in a tree, in a thick wood, a nest, or "drey" as it is
called, containing three young squirrels. Whether it was that
he thought they had been forsaken by the mother, and needed
protection, or whether he was a cruel lad, and took them with-
out giving any thought to the matter, is uncertain; be it as it
might, however, he carried them home and placed them under
the care of a cat which had lately lost her kittens. Strange as it
may seem, the cat immediately became attached to them; indeed,
she bestowed on them as much affection and attention as if they
had been her own offspring; and it must have been a very
pretty sight to watch the little creatures as, full of fun and frolic,
they gambolled about in the basket where they lived; now play-
ing bo-peep with each other, now quizzing the grave-looking cat,
now jumping over her back or perhaps sporting with her tail.
It is said, however, that so many people went to see the young
1~ 11.!' I
I- A SQUIRREL DINING ON ACORNS.
[7,rll liiilr n,,,,,,,Il, .:.,:.ll,.ldb
BAB Y IS KING.
squirrels that the cat at length became jealous of them, and was
apparently afraid lest they should meet with harm. She there-
fore took them from the basket, and concealed them over the
ceiling of a room; and there, probably through lack of food,
one died. The others, however, lived, and soon learned to
scamper hither and thither among the trees; though it is to be
feared that, like little ducklings brought up under the care of
a hen, they quickly forgot the many kindnesses which they had
received from their devoted foster-parent.
All little folks who have seen the squirrels leaping from
branch to branch in the woods will, we think, admit that for its
elegance of form, for the beauty of its fur, and for its agility and
gracefulness of movement, scarcely any other animal can be com-
pared with the gay little creature of which we have been speak-
ing; and our forests would without doubt lose much of their
charm were they to be deprived of its presence.
BABY IS KING.
EIGN at your subjects a smile to fling,
While we of your wondrous treasures sing;
S Prized in our hearts above earthly thing,-
Our boy more precious than crowned king;
Father's own darling, mother's own joy,
Worlds would not buy thee, my baby, my boy!
Eyes that reflect back the blue of the sky;
Little white teeth that with sea-pearls can vie;
Cheeks that have stolen the pink of the rose;
Skin soft and pure as the lily that blows.
Father's own darling, mother's own joy,
Worlds would not buy thee, my baby, my boy!
MY BABY BOY.
OU see on the opposite page a picture of Frank, a dear
little friend of mine he was once when he was very
Small; but he is growing up into a big boy now, with
pants and jackets on, and a splendid pocket for string.
So you may suppose he is scarcely the pet with me that he used
to be, though I still like him very much.
My memory takes me back to a time when Frank was not
so big even as you see him in the picture,-to days when I used
to sing him to sleep in my arms, and carry him up and down
stairs on my back. The child had a passion for music, and
would sit by me, while I played or sang, with a rapt and dreamy
expression on his tiny face. He most delighted to hear what he
called tune-stories,"-that is, I used to tell him a story, or
describe something to him, and play an accompaniment to my
words on the piano. He often asked that the tune-story
might be about the sea. Then I would begin with some soft
strain, while I told him of the sea in its mild and gentle
mood, its low murmuring waves stealing in soft ripples to the
shore under the glad sunbeams. Then the music would grow
louder and more solemn, as I described the rising wind and
storm gathering in the distance; till at last would come a crash
on the piano, with startling chords, as I spoke of the storm
bursting, of the waves mountains high, and of their terrible giant
strength; perhaps the whole winding up with a shipwreck.
When Frank was about ten years old, he stayed with us one
summer at the seaside, and thoroughly enjoyed being either on
or in the water, for he could swim like a duck. One morning
he had been sailing his little boat in the pools formed by the
receding tide, while I had been making a Newfoundland puppy
of ours go into the sea after a stick. At last we grew tired,
and mounted the little footpath that leads up the cliff to go
home. Frank sat down on the edge of the cliff, with his boat
FRANK,THE BOY WHO SAVED
on his knee and his chin resting on his hand, watching the sea
with that dreamy look on his face which I had.so often seen.
Suddenly I heard a sound from the shore, something between a
cry and a howl, and I saw Nep, the Newfoundland puppy, in
the sea, entangled in a quantity of sea-weed, and struggling in
vain to land. The stupid puppy was pressing the sea-weed in
front of him, and only forming it into a thicker and more
Both Frank and I instantly ran down the foot-path to the
shore. Without a moment's hesitation, he jumped into the sea,
which was very calm, dressed as he was. He went in beyond
the bank of sea-weed, and swam round behind it, reaching the
puppy in that way. Then he put his arm round Nep's neck,
made him turn back to make the round of the sea-weed, and so
they reached the shore together side by side.
It was reversing the usual order of things. I have read many
stories of Newfoundland dogs saving the lives of little children,
but never of children saving dogs. I must tell you that Frank
had a good scolding for risking his life so recklessly; though
-to let you into a secret-I believe in our hearts we all
admired him for it.
C HE snail he lives in his hard round house,
In the orchard, under the tree;
Says he, "I have but a single room,
But it's large enough for me."
The snail in his little house doth dwell
From week's end to week's end;
You're at home, Master Snail, that's all very well,
But you never receive a friend.
HE people of China are very fond of ducks. They collect
a great number of eggs, and put them in boxes of warm
sand, and cover them up snug on the kitchen hearth.
The little children of the house watch day after day
for the young ducklings to come popping through the shells.
By and by there will be such a cackling, and out will pop the
little birds; and, soon jumping out of the box, they will be
making a great noise for something to eat. A little Chinese
boy will be ready to feed them. He has a bagful of boiled
rice, and they run after him and quack, quack" for their din-
ner. When they get a little bigger they are carried to a large
boat,-built on purpose,-where a flock of three or four hun-
dred ducks all live. Each flock has its own old bird that guides
them about, just as though she were the mother of the lot.
Many of these duck-boats float about on one river, and of
course there are more ducks than you or I could count; but
when the different masters blow their whistles, every duck rushes
back to its own boat, and somehow they never make a mistake.
UCH families of cats as I used to have,-grandmother
pussies, mother pussies, and children and grandchildren
kitties! When I look back to the days of my girl-
hood and think of my furry kits, this is the picture I
always see: a barn with wide-open door and great squares of
golden sunshine on its slippery, seedy floor.
Not a trim modern barn, with painted wall and snug windows,
but a real old-fashioned country barn, with wide cracks between
its boarded walls, with its long mow, its collar beam," its cow
bants," and its dark wood-room, its dark, cool corners where
the hens used to "steal their nests," its swallows' nests, high up
in the peak." In such a barn as that my sister and I used to
play, and we always had some kitty or other for a pyi.; .it.
sometimes a half-dozen of them.
When a new family of kitties made their appearance, mother
always said, "We can't have so many cats. Some of these
must be drowned." And then Jennie and I would plead for
the lives of our pets. Sometimes mother would compromise
with us and allow us to keep the puttiest one." The others
used to disappear mysteriously. The old mother cat used to
hide her family very slyly, and at last we grew as sly as she,
and if we discovered their whereabouts, kept very still about it,
well knowing that as long as the kitties kept in the barn their
lives were safe.
Mother would sometimes let us have our two little white kit-
tens, Milky and Snow, in the house; but one day they were
discovered on the parlor-table, in the flower-stand, and that was
enough to banish them henceforth from the house, and we were
obliged to be content with them in the barn.
Our next particular pet in the cat line was a beautiful gray
r 1 I
4- 4., :'
:.y: :~ ,4. r~
.. M.4 ./.-
r .5.''l~ .'.
MILKY AND SNOW ON THE FLOWER STAND.
kitty, given us by a neighbor. Before her advent, all our pussies
had been black or white ones, so that we were very proud of
this new favorite.. And a very bright cat was "Madame Gray."
The entrance to our kitchen was by double doors,-the outside
one a "cleat door," only shut in cold and stormy weather. When
it was shut, and "Madame Gray" was on the wrong side" of
it, she used to place her paw underneath the door, between it
and the sill, and shake the door so that it rattled.
Poor Madame Gray! she came to a sad end. Some dog
one day took her by the back with his teeth, and left a dreadful
wound. But we had not a thought but that she would recover,
for have not cats nine lives" ? So Jennie and I converted a
corner of the barn into a hospital for "Madame Gray," and
visited her many times a day with tempting food and milk
nicely warmed. But she did not get well. She grew better,
and crawled from the barn to the house, but the wound in her
back did not heal, and she died in great pain.
- r 1
OOR little sheep, do they hurt you, pray,
When all your warm wool they shear away ?"
No, little mistress; and I can tell,
It's good for me and my master as well:
My wool can be sold for money, you see,
Although in the summer it's heavy for me."
And thus in the world the rule was made,
That each should his fellow-creature aid.
One does another a service to-day,
To-morrow that other the deed can repay;
And in service done with a willing mind
A twofold value we always find.
IF you your lips would keep from slips,
Five things observe with care:
Of whom you speak, to whom you speak,
And how, and when, and where.
REACHING AFTER SUNSHINE.
EACHING after sunshine
SWith a dimpled hand,
That is right, my darling,
Grasp the golden band;
Fold it in your bosom,
Let it cheer your heart,
Gather radiant sunbeams,
Bid the clouds depart.
When your feet shall wander
From my sight away,
You will find that evil
With the good may stray.
Never heed it, darling,
Let it pass the while;
Gather only sunbeams,
Keep your heart from guile.
Grief may be your portion,
Shadows dim your way,
Clouds may darkly threaten
To obscure its day.
Don't despair, my darling,
There's a Father's love;
How could there be shadows
With no light above?
EVIL thoughts, that have their way,
Make a life of sorrow;
Bring us grief and care to-day,
Shame and want to-morrow.
-'Il 5- ,~
NA, `M i~
.'P \"' R-R
BABY PLAYING WITH THE SUNSHINE.
-I I I -
THE PET LAMB.
APA dear," exclaimed a curly-headed little fellow, aged
six, "will you tell us the story of Alice and her pet
lambs in the picture that Cousin Alec painted ?"
"I have told you that one so often, that to-night you
shall hear about my lamb, given to me when I was no older
than some of you; and as his whole history is not a very long
one, I shall be able to relate it before tea is brought up."
"Do; please do!" exclaimed a chorus of little voices; and
the little folks settled-themselves in their chairs to listen.
When I was a young boy I lived at Florence. My father
and mother and sisters occupied a villa outside one of the city
gates; and one fine morning in spring a peasant, to whom my
father had done a favor, drove up to the gates and brought out
of his cart a large sack of walnuts and a snow-white mountain
lamb, a few weeks old, as a present. Its four little legs were
tied together, and it bleated very piteously when the man, who
had carried it head downwards, put it not very gently on to
the marble floor in the hall. He thought, of course, that it
would be killed next day for dinner, and therefore, with the
usual indifference of such people, supposed it was not of much
consequence whether it was hurt or not.
"But this was not the opinion of us children. My knife
was out of my pocket in an instant to cut the cord which
bound its poor legs together, whilst my sisters chafed the places
that had been hurt by the string with their hands. We then
put it in an upright position, but it was too weak and stiff to
stand, so I took it up in my arms and carried it into my own
room, where I made it a bed, and gave it some milk.
"My father, who had a great dislike to receive presents,
would have refused to keep them, but we children pleaded so
hard for the lamb, that he yielded, and the man was sent away
THE PET LAMB.
THE PET LA MB.
with a piece of money for himself valuable enough to pay for
the whole lot.
"From that moment the lamb took a strange liking for me,
-a liking which more resembled the devoted attachment of a
dog than the feeling of a baby sheep. It is true that he slept
in my room, was fed by my hand, and was never chastised in
any way; but I do not think every lamb would prove as affec-
tionate and intelligent as this one.
"Directly he could get on his legs he began trotting after
me wherever I went; up-stairs or down, in the garden or else-
where, 'Billy' the lamb followed me. And at last I would
venture out-of-doors with him, when he would trot at my heels
or by my side right through the village, unmindful of dogs or
boys, but feeling apparently quite brave and at his ease if only
"Our villa was near the river Arno, which was bordered at
that time for many miles with a belt of wood, broken by patches
of green, where in the moonlight the rabbits would assemble-
as you little folks are fond of doing-to have a romp.
"Into this wild region, on a summer's afternoon, my sisters
and I would wander, Billy trotting along by my side, and occa-
sionally nibbling at the fresh young grass. Our great sport was
for my sisters to hold him whilst I would run and hide behind
a tree, and when he was let loose he would gallop off in search
of me, making the place resound with his bleatings, although,
unlike a dog, his demonstrations would cease when he found
me, all he did being to thrust his cold nose into my hand.
So great was his distress when I had to leave him that he
upset the whole family with his cries, bleating about the house,
and refusing to be comforted. One morning, however, one of
my sisters hit upon a device to quiet him which perfectly suc-
ceeded, and was always afterwards had recourse to when I left
home. She took a pair of my trousers that Billy was accus-