Front Cover
 Title Page
 St. Nicholas in France
 Running after the rainbow
 The entangled magpie
 A visit to Toy Town
 Besieged in the snow
 Old Stine and the brownie
 A faithful dog
 Jennie's pet
 Back Cover

Group Title: Snow man series
Title: Dolly Dimple's book of pictures and stories
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00082539/00001
 Material Information
Title: Dolly Dimple's book of pictures and stories
Series Title: Snow man series
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 26 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Paterson, Robert, fl. 1860-1899 ( Engraver )
Staniland, Charles Joseph, 1838-1916 ( Illustrator )
DeWolfe, Fiske & Co. (Boston, Mass.) ( Publisher )
Publisher: De Wolfe Fiske & Co.
Place of Publication: Boston
Manufacturer: S.J. Parkhill & Co.
Publication Date: [1893?]
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1893   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1893   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
General Note: Date of publication from inscription.
General Note: Illustrations engraved by Paterson after Staniland.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00082539
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223351
notis - ALG3600
oclc - 214285137

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover
    Title Page
        Title Page 1
        Title Page 2
    St. Nicholas in France
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Running after the rainbow
        Page 4
        Page 5
    The entangled magpie
        Page 6
        Page 7
    A visit to Toy Town
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
    Besieged in the snow
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
    Old Stine and the brownie
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
    A faithful dog
        Page 26
    Jennie's pet
        Page 27
    Back Cover
        Back Cover
Full Text










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The Baldwin Lhrar
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IN this country, mainly through the wide-spread influence of the poem
of Clement C. Moore-"'Twas the- Night -before Christmas "- Santa
Claus (St. Nicholas) is confounded with Old Father Christmas, and is
seldom mentioned except in connection with that great and joyous holi-,
day. But the early Christian Bishop Nicholas has his own day, the 6th
of December, and on it he receives due veneration in Europe as the pa-
tron of children. He is represented in Christian art as a bishop with a
tub near him, in which three children are seen. The legends tell that
he restored to life three little ones who had been basely and cruelly
murdered. It was interest in children that led to his adoption through-
out Europe as the patron of the little sunbeams of home.
He is also the patron- of sea-faring men, and is honored in many
sea-ports on that account. The Dutch clung to St. Nicholas, and New
Netherland and New Amsterdam paid him honor. He thus became an


American institution, and was the first saint naturalized in the country;
St. Patrick, whose penny was made current coin by New Jersey, in colonial
times, being probably the next.
St. Nicholas has in Germany an
attendant, who delights as much
.i : ..' ,', \in punishing naughty children as
F the Saint does in rewarding all
those whose record for the year
Shows a rich harvest of good
S 'r behavior, obedience, charity and
SIn a French family, the mother,
on, the evening before St. Nicholas
Day, will gather her. little ones
around the piano, and they will
THE TOP. sing a song to the tune of Mai-
tre Corbeau.
About a week before the feast, children begin to write letters to St.
Nicholas to give a hint of what they would like. The chimney is the
post-road. The younger ones
rely on those a little older to
couch their wishes in good and .
polite phrases. When the fa- 1 .
mous day arrives, the expectant / ',
children are out of bed at the / ': '
earliest moment, and when "1 '.-- ,"
dressed, they rush to the parlor '_- ..
ee .sca1n h e -- in.,t e' ri o r tr o- g-,/II
to find it closed. Keen little ,
eyes scan the interior through "- -.
the key-hole, and announce the i ~
glad tidings, "St. Nicholas has \',.
come!" When the door at last. '. ':
opens, there is a shout of ad- -
miration at the toys, games,
delicacies, arrayed for their de-S ALL GONE
light. The toys are not always new, but no matter. Jane is as much de.
lighted with her old doll, reheaded and newly dressed in fashionable attire,


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as the more volatile Fanchon is with hers, just new from the shop. One
doll will figure as Judy to match brother's Punch. The dressing and
care of the dolls begin.
Here is Mademoiselle's chocolate," says one.


"Wait a moment; don't you see she has no appetite ?" replies an-
other. Baby, little glutton, not yet developed to the doll period, soon
finishes her candies, and looks forlornly for more.

YOU all know the nutmeg, and have seen it grated into custards and
Summer drinks to give them a flavor. Do you know what a nut-
meg is, and where it grows?
Nutmegs are raised in the Banda Isles, in Penang, India, Jamaica
and Trinidad. Up to 1796, the Dutch, being in possession of the Banda
Islands, by rigorous laws and jealous vigilance prevented the living plant
from being taken elsewhere for propagation, but when the British seized
these islands care was taken to spread the culture of the nutmeg as one
of the most valuable of spices. The ordinary nutmeg-tree is about
twenty-five feet in height, and the fruit is of the size and appearance of
a pear, golden-yellow in color when ripe; the fleshy part is not unlike
candied fruit, and it is often preserved and eaten as a sweetmeat.
Within is the nut, the kernel of which is the nutmeg. Nutmegs are ex-
posed to the attacks of a particularly destructive beetle, and are there-
fore often coated with lime before they are exported. The Dutch or
Batavian are nearly always limed, but those from Penang are not, and
for this reason have a higher value in the market, Nutmegs are not
only a spice, but are used in medicine. Our supply of nutmegs is
brought to New York in steamers trading directly or indirectly with the
East Indies.

SHY thus aside your playthings throw,
Over the wet lawn hurrying so?
Where are you going, I want to know ?"
I'm running after the rainbow."
"Little boy, with your bright brown eyes
Full of a wonderful surprise,
Stop a minute, my Arthur wise-
What do you want with the rainbow ?



--- -I




Arthur paused in his headlong race,
Turned up to mother his hot, young face-
Mother, I want to reach the place
At either end of the rainbow.

"Nurse says, wherever it meets the ground
Such beautiful things may oft be found,
Buried below, or scattered round,
If one can but catch the rainbow.

"Oh please don't hinder me, mother dear,
It will all be gone while I stay here ;"
So, with many a hope and not one fear,
The child ran after the rainbow.

Over the damp grass, ankle deep,
Clambering up the hilly steep,
And the wood where the birds were going to sleep,
But he couldn't catch the rainbow.

And when he came out at the wood's far side,
The sun was setting in golden pride;
There were plenty of clouds all rainbow-dyed,
But not a sign of a rainbow.

Said Arthur, sobbing, as home he went,
I wish I had thought what mother meant;
I wish I had only been content,
And not run after the rainbow."

And as he came sadly down the hill,
Stood mother scolding-but smiling still,
And hugged him up close, as mothers will,
So he quite forgot the rainbow.

THE writer of these lines was, some years since, very nearly starved to
death whilst lost amidst the wilds of Australia. After partial recov-
ery. whilst traveling through the same desolate country on the way to a
lonely settlement, and leading the horses along a tract of precipices, we
saw a poor magpie, sadly thin and wasted, hopping round a small bush.
On examination, we found a cord fastened to one of the legs of the
bird, the other end of which securely held the poor little creature by its
entwinement around the plant. Some settler, we presume, had caught






this wild magpie, perhaps among his newly sown grain, and had fastened
the wings, to affright other winged thieves. The bird, somehow becom-
ing loose, had been probably driven away from its own race on ac-
count of its appendage, and had made its way to the mountains, but
there had become thus entangled, and was now ready to die. Our own
nearness to starvation on these mountains came back afresh into our
mind, and we very quickly freed this poor bird from starvation and death.

OH, dear, what is the use of doing nasty, dull old lessons this hot day?
O1 o-h!"-and here came a long yawn and stretch, and a longing
glance of the drowsy blue eyes toward the doll's house in the corner.
Then, once more the inky little fingers began their weary journey across
the copy-book.
"Delays are dangerous. D, d, I, 2, 3."
"I wish Miss Bruce would not set such dull copies, and just put
those stupid figures to fill up the line. Thin up-strokes-thick down-
strokes-dot your i's-cross your t's-delays are--"
Blot-sputter-and then, somehow or other, the words of Rosie's
copy turned into "Dolls are delightful," and somebody called out: "Come
along, Rosie I'm off to Toy Town."
Rosie had never heard of Toy Town before, but somehow she did


r.1 N c ,. --

3-Arin %



not feel at all surprised, and jumped up all in a hurry, saying: "Yes,
I'll come. It's not very far, is it? Nurse is so cross if I'm late for tea,
and I do hate being scolded."
Soon they were jogging along the road, and Rosie found out that
her companion's name was Goodchild. She belonged to a large family
of little boys and girls who had all set off to Toy Town, but had never
got there and had come home disappointed. There were Miss Giddy,
and Miss Idle, and little Jack Dawdle, and Master Willie Willful, and
Ned Obstinate, but none of them had ever got to Toy Town,
Why not ?" inquired Rosie.
"Oh, because they would not go the right way, you know! There's
only one way to Toy Town, but it's rather a long one, and they all got
tired; but I mean to go to the end. So I have put on my plodding-
shoes; and Aunt Industry has lent me a nice strong stick, called 'Pay-
ing-attention,' to help me over the stiles and gates''
Rosie thought it sounded very nice, and resolved to go too; and as
they went along, Goodchild told her all about Toy Town and its
"It's all games and fun and holidays there," she said; "and every-
thing and everybody are toys, and you can play from morning till night.
All the trees are Christmas-trees, and the houses are dolls' houses and
Noah's arks; and the carts in the streets are musical carts, with red
wheels and spotted horses, and little sacks inside with real coal; and the
trains go by clock-work, with white wool coming out of the chimneys to
look like smoke. Boys generally like Rocking-horse Road best, because
it is near the place where the soldiers live-tin soldiers, you know. Real
soldiers live in a barracks, but toy ones live in a box, because it is a
shorter word, but it's very grand all the same, with a glass top; they
march about all in one position, to the sound of penny trumpets and
whistles, and drums with sugar-plums inside them. Then there's Mr.
Jack-in-the-box; he lives half-way between Punch and Judy and the
babies' part, where yellow-plush parrots, with button eyes and feathers on
their heads, fly up and down on pieces of elastic and make a rattling
noise inside; and there are woolly lambs on green stands, and nice soft
india-rubber dolls that do to be sucked and can't break. But the best
place for dolls -is close to Skipping-rope Square, after you have passed the
bricks and picture-books. Some people call it 'Little Girls' Lane,' and


that's where I mean to go if I can. There are several families of dolls.
There's the Wax family; those are the grandest of all, with real hair, and
eyes that open and shut. Then there are the Woods and the Chinas
and the Dutches and the Rags-all very nice in different ways. The
Woods are so strong, you see, though they are usually rather plain.
The Chinas are capital ones for washing, and many of the Miss Rags
squeak beautifully when you pinch them."
"I wish we were there!" cried Rosie; and just as she spoke they
turned aside down a lane that looked very long. Is this the way to Toy
Town ?" asked Rosie; "it looks very dull."
"Yes," said Goodchild; "Toy Town lies at the other end of it-it is
called Lesson-book Lane."
"Does it take long?" asked Rosie.
"That depends on how fast you go and how often you stop;" and
as she spoke Goodchild began running along a straight, narrow path
called A B C.
Rosie ran after her, finding it easy enough.
"That's all very well for you," said Goodchild; "but I know a little
girl named Laura Lazy, who would not go even this little bit of the
way. So she had to go to a very ugly place called The Corner,' with
no one to speak to but little Tommy Dunce, who is a stupid boy."
Soon they came to a broad part called Reading Road, and this, too,
Rosie did not mind much, though she did not much like having to stop
and climb over Spelling Stile and unfasten a five-barred gate called
Grammar Gate, all made up of parts of speech. She thought it very
dull and could not see the use of it, till Goodchild assured her there
was no other way along Reading Road.
Presently they came to another stile made of a large piece of slate,
called Sum Stile, and here poor Rosie almost stuck fast; but Goodchild
lent her Aunt Industry's wonderful stick. She declared they should not
now be long before they reached Toy Town, and showed her how to
climb up by a step called Multiplication Table.
I wish I had got shoes like yours," said Rosie, rather mournfully,
as she tried to keep up with Goodchild.
You must get a pair," said Goodchild; "for I see yours were made
by Mr. Now-and-then, and they soon wear out. But here we are at Copy
Corner, and that leads over Dictation Down to "


But at Copy Corner poor Rosie
child was kind enough to wait; for

sat down to rest awhile, and Good,
she said it would be no fun to go
into Toy Town alone, now they
had gone so far together.
While they rested, Rosie
asked Goodchild if there was
anything on the other side of
Toy Town.
"Oh, yes!" said Goodchild;
"but that is 'Grown-up Land,'
and I don't know very much
about it."
"There's no Lesson-book
Lane there, I suppose ?" asked
Rosie, with much interest.

"No; at least, it's not called
that," said Goodchild. "But TO/
Aunt Industry says we shall
have to go up Hard-work Hill
to a great big plain called A .
Knowledge, and that leads -4 -
to- -" ,
Rosie was just going to ask ,
where, when all at once she -
gave a great jump, and Good-"
child was gone, and in her place i -
stood nurse, looking down on i I __
the blotted copy-book where /( '
she had been writing "Delays .. L --
are dangerous" when she fell
asleep., i,i."1- -
Rosie expected a scolding; '.
but nurse only stroked her __U_,-_"__
head, and said she was too tired
for more lessons that hot afternoon, and she had better smooth her hair
and run down to mother till tea. So Rosie ran down Il-.lly, and told

mother all the funny dream she had had. And mother was very much
amused, and said it was all true, and work must come before play.

'- Hi 'O. ,
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I ,". -' '"" '"- -I' ._


"But grown-up people don't play at all-do they?" asked Rosie, in
answer to what her mother said. "They would not care for Toy Town?"


Yes, but they have to work and learn just like little children."
And then, mother- "
"Well, dear, not exactly Toy Town, but something we shall like
better, perhaps. But for the present, Lesson-book Lane is enough for my
little girl, and Toy Town is as much a part of the great Kingdom of
Wisdom as what comes after it."

IT was to a sale of domestic furniture, at the house of some proprietor
in Langdale, that G;- and Sarah Green set forward in the fore-
noon of a day fated to be their last on earth. The sale was to take
place in Langdalehead; to which, from their own cottage in Easdale, it
was possible in daylight, and supposing no mist on the hills, to find out
a short cut of not more than five or six miles. By this route they went;
and, notwithstanding the snow lay on the ground, they reached their des-
tination in safety. The attendance at the sale must have been dimin-
ished by the rigorous state of the weather; but still the scene was a gay
one, as usual. The time for general separation was considerably after
sunset; and the final recollections of the crowd with respect to George
and Sarah Green were, that upon their intention being understood to re-
trace their morning path, and to attempt the perilous task of dropping
down into Easdale from the mountains above Langdalehead, a sound of
remonstrance arose from many quarters. However, at such a moment,
when everybody was in the hurry of departure, the opposition could not
be very obstinate. Party after party rode off; the meeting melted away,
or, as the northern phrase is, scaled; and the Greens quitted the scene,
professing to obey some advice or other upon the choice of roads, but, at
as early a point as they could- do so unobserved, began to ascend the
hills. After this they were seen no more. They had disappeared into
the cloud of death. Voices were heard, some hours afterward, from the
mountains-voices, as some thought, of alarm; others said "No," that
it was only the voices of jovial people, carried by the wind into uncertain
regions The result was, that no attention was paid to the sounds.
That night, in little peaceful Easdale, six children sat by a peat-fire,
expecting the return of their parents, upon whom they depended for their




--~- --

as _c~-- ---




daily bread. Let a day pass, and they were starving. Every sound,
every echo among the hills, was listened to for five hours, from seven to
twelve. At length the eldest girl of the family-about nine years old--
told her little brothers and sisters to go to bed. They had been trained
to obedience; and all of them, at the voice of their eldest sister, went
off fearfully to their beds. Sometime in the course of the evening-but
it was late, and after midnight-the moon arose, and shed a torrent of
light upon the Langdale fells, which had already, long hours before, wit-
nessed in darkness the death of their parents.
That night, and the following morning, came a further and a heavier
fall of snow; in consequence of which the poor children were completely
imprisoned, and cut off from all possibility of communicating with their
next neighbors. The brook was too much for them to leap; and the little
crazy wooden bridge could not be crossed, or even approached, with safety,
from the drifting of the snow having made it impossible to ascertain the
exact situation of some treacherous hole in its timbers, which, if trod
upon, would have let a small child drop through into the rapid waters.
Their parents did not return. For some hours of the morning the
children clung to the hope that the extreme severity of the night had
tempted them to sleep in Langdale; but this hope forsook them as the
day wore away. The poor desolate children, hourly becoming more con-
vinced that they were orphans, huddled together in the evening round
their hearth-fire of peats, and held their little family councils upon what
was to be done toward any chance-if chance remained-of yet i-.in i,
aid to their parents; for a slender hope had sprung up that some hovel
or sheep-fold -might have furnished them a screen against the weather
quarter of the storm, in which hovel they might even now be lying
snowed up; and secondly, as regarded themselves, in what way they were
to make known their situation, in case the snow should continue or should
increase; for starvation stared them in the face, if they should be con-
fined for many days to their house.
Meantime the eldest sister, little Agnes, though sadly alarmed, and
feeling the sensation of eerincss as twilight came on, and she looked out
from the cottage-door to the dreadful fells on which, too probably, her
parents were lying corpses (and possibly not many hundred yards from
their own threshold), yet exerted herself to .ake all the measures which
their own prospects made prudent. Having caused all her brothers and


3isters-except the two little things, not yet of a fit age--to kneel down
:al. say the prayers which they had been taught, this admirable little
f~-:!.--., t;r.;d hetrelf to every household task that could have proved

-.A .


useful to them in a long captivity. First of all, upon some recollection
that the clock was nearly going down, she wound it up. Next, she took
all the milk which remained from what her mother had provided for the
children's consumption during her absence, and for the breakfast of the
following morning-this, luckily, was still in sufficient plenty for two days'
consumption-and scalded it, so as to save it from turning sour. That
done, she next examined the meal-chest; made the common oat. meal
porridge of the country; but put all of the children, except the two
S youngest, on short allowance; and, by way of reconciling them in some
measure to this stinted meal, she found out a little hoard of flour, part
of which she baked for them upon the hearth into little cakes; and this
unusual delicacy persuaded them to think that they had been celebrating
a feast. Next, before night coming on should make it too trying to her
own feelings, or before fresh snow coming on might make it impossible,
ssed o ut-of-doors. There her first task wa, with the assistance of


two younger brothers, to carry in from the peat-stack as many peats as
might serve them for a week's consumption. That done, in the second
place she examined the potatoes, buried in "brackens" (that is, withered
fern); these were not many, and she thought it better to leave them
where they were, excepting as many as would make a single meal, under
a fear that the heat of their cottage would spoil them if removed.
Having thus made all the provision in her power for supporting
their own lives, she turned her attention to the cow. Her she milked;



but, unfortunately, -the milk she gave, either from being badly fed or from
some other cause, was too trifling to be of much consideration toward
the wants of a large family. Here, however, her chief anxiety was to

~5~ ri
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get .down the hay for the cow's food from a loft above the outhouse;
and in this she succeeded but imperfectly, from want of strength and size
to cope with the difficulties of the case, besides that, the increasing dark-
ness by this time, together with the gloom of the place, made it a mat-
ter of great self-conquest for her to work at all. But, as respected one
night, at any rate, she placed the cow in a situation of luxurious warmth
and comfort. Then retreating into the warm house, and barring the
door, she sat down to undress the two youngest of the children; them
she laid carefully and cozily in their little nests up-stairs, and saw them
to sleep. The rest she kept up to bear her company until the clock
should tell them it was midnight; up to which time she had a lingering
hope that some welcome shout from the hills above, which they were all
to strain their ears to catch, might yet assure them that they were not
wholly orphans, even though one parent should have perished. No shout
was ever heard; nor could a-shout in any case have been heard, for the
night was one of tumultuous wind. And though, amidst its ravings,
sometimes they fancied a sound of voices, still, in the dead lulls that now
and then succeeded, they heard nothing to confirm their hopes. The
night slipped away, and morning came, bringing with it no better hopes
of any kind. Change there had been none, but for the worse. The
snow had greatly increased in quantity, and the drifts seemed far more
formidable. A second day passed like the first; little Agnes still keep-
ing her young flock quiet and tolerably comfortable.
A third day came; and whether on that or on the fourth, I do not
now recollect, but on one or other, there came a welcome gleam of hope.
The arrangement of the snow-drifts had shifted during the night; and
though the wooden bridge was still impracticable, a low wall had been
exposed, over which, by a circuit round the brook, it seemed possible that
a road might be found into Grasmere. The little boys accompanied
their sister till she came to the other side of the hill, which, lying more
sheltered from the weather, offered a path onward comparatively easy.
Here they parted; and little Agnes pursued her solitary, mission to the
nearest house she could find accessible in Grasmere. No house could
have proved a wrong one in such a case. Horror in an instant displaced
the smile of hospitable greeting, when little weeping Agnes told her sad
tale. No tongue can express the fervid sympathy which traveled through
the vale, like fire in an American forest, when it was learned that neither


George nor Sarah Green had been seen by their children since the day
of the Langdale sale. Within half an hour, or little more, from the re-
motest parts of the valley, all the men of Grasmere had assembled; and
sixty at least set off with the speed of Alpine hunters to the hills. The
dangers of the undertaking were considerable, under the easy and agitated
state of the weather; and all the women of the vale were in the greatest
anxiety, until night brought them back, in a body, unsuccessful. Three
days at the least, and I rather think five, the search was ineffectual. The
zeal of the people, meantime, was not in the least abated, but rather
quickened, by the wearisome disappointment; every hour of daylight was
turned to account; no man of the valley ever came home to meals. At
length sagacious dogs were taken up; and about noonday, a shout from
an aerial height, amongst thick volumes of cloudy vapor, propagated
through repeating bands of men for a distance of many miles, conveyed
as by telegraph into Grasmere the news that the bodies were found.
George Green was lying at the bottom of a precipice, from which he had
fallen, Sarah Green was found on the summit of the precipice. It was
conjectured that the husband had desired his wife to pause for a few
minutes, wrapping her meantime in his own great-coat, whilst he should
go forward and reconnoitre the ground, in order to catch a sight of some
object (rocky peak, or tarn, or peat-field) which might ascertain their true
position. Either the snow above, already lying in drifts, or the blinding
snow-storm driving into his eyes, must have misled him as to the nature
of the circumjacent ground; for the precipice over which he had fallen
was but a few yards from the spot on which he had quitted his wife.
The funeral of the ill-fated Greens was, it may be supposed, attended
by all the vale; it took place about eight days after they were found;
and the day happened to be in the most perfect contrast to the sort of
weather which prevailed at the time of their misfortune. Some snow still
remained here and there upon the ground, but the azure of the sky was
unstained by a cloud; and a golden sunlight seemed to sleep, so balmy
and tranquil was the season, upon the very hills where the pair had wan-
d-red---then a howling wilderness, but now a green pastoral lawn in its
lower ranges, and a glittering expanse of virg:n snow in its higher. After
the solemn ceremony of the funeral was over, a regular distribution of
the children was made among the wealthier families of the vale. And
thus, in so brief a period as one fortnight, a household that, by health




and strength, by the humility of poverty, and by innocence of life, seemed
sheltered from all attacks but those of time, came to be utterly broken

Ii',, -.-"-: *-'.- ,- .'-


up. George and Sarah Green slept in Grasmere Church-yard, nevermore
to know the want of "sun or Kuidinr star."



4ABOUT the time when I was confirmed," said an aged Swedish lady,
I1 whom we asked for a story, "our old servant Stine was living
with my parents. She came to us from a captain's, who had given up the
sea. It was a very quiet'place. They never went anywhere, and no-
body came to see them. The captain only took a walk as far as the

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quay every day. They always went to bed very early. People said there
was a brownie in the house.
"Well, it so happened that Stine and the cook were sitting in their
room one evening, mending and darning their things; it was near bed-
time, for the watchman had already sung out 'Ten o'clock!' but some-
how the darning and sewing went on very slowly indeed-every moment
'Jack Nap' came and played his tricks on them! At one moment Stine
,.-x- 2 2 .-.. -'.-, '' '

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-'a _='.; ay ;he a w "y wen o be -= ver y ':ly P l ,-_=--I --,-hr, t,
w as brow nie _n _- _;: : 2 5 : .", -"1i -'' -_ 4.-: ;,;,
---ll -$t. .e >_ ha p.e ,j _l== .;n t :-=. :-":. :oo ee stig i h


was nodding, and then came the cook's turn-they could not keep their
eyes open; they had been up early that morning to wash clothes.
But just as they were sitting thus, they heard a terrible crash down-

I '. I ., .II


stairs in the kitchen, and Stine shouted: 'Lor' bless and preserve us!
it must be the brownie !'
A ,_ I, .. ..

She was so frightened, she dared scarcely move a foot; but at

followed by Stine.
,, ,', :,, ', ,,, ,



-stairs in the kitchen, and Stine shouted: Lot' bless and preserve uJ,
it must be the brownie!'
"She was, so frightened, she dared scarcely move a foot; but at
last the cook plucked up courage and went down into-the kitchen, closely,
followed by Stine.

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"When they opened the kitchen-door, they found all the crockery
on the floor, but none of it broken, while the brownie was standing on
the big kitchen-table, with his red cap on, and hurling the one dish after
the other on to the floor and laughing in great glee.
"The cook had heard that the brownies could sometimes be tricked
into moving to another house, when anybody would tell them of a very
quiet place, and as she long had been wishing for an opportunity to
play a trick upon this brownie, she took courage and spoke to him-her
voice was a little shaky at the time-that he ought to remove to the
tinman's over the way, where it was so very quiet and pleasant, because
they always went to bed at nine o'clock every evening; which was true
enough. as the cook told Stine later: but, then, the master and all his
apprentices and journeymen were up every morning at three o'clock, and
hammered away and made a terrible noise all day.
"Since that day they never saw the brownie any more at the cap-
tain's. He seemed to feel quite at home at the tinman's, although they
were hammering and tapping away there all day; but people said that
the good-wife put a dish of porridge up in the garret for him every
Thursday evening; and it's no wonder that they got on well and became
rich, when they had a brownie in the house.
"Stine believed he brought things to them. Whether it was the
brownie or not who really helped them, I cannot say," said the old lady,
in conclusion, and got a fit of coughing and choking after the exertion
of telli 1g this, for her, unusually long story.

URING the excitement attending the discovery of gold in the Black
-I ills, the route swarmed with gangs of robbers. Their depreda-
tions brought out a remarkable instance of the affection and fidelity of a
Newfoundland dog.
A miner named Navarro one day started from the mines to bring
in a few hundred dollars' worth of dust to Deadwood. He was accom-
panied only by his dog, and when he was within about eight miles of his
destination he must have been attacked by two or more of the prowling
desperamies who infested that region, and robbed and murdered.

JEN\N.E'S' PL-. i

His body was found, ten days after, stopped of his money-h'elt and
his weapons, and by the side of the dead bodly \'as poor Navarro's ver%
faithful dog. moaning and lh\- ling as if to ..tr.i-:r .t:ci : o to its; ras-
ter's fate; in fact. it was the noise i.iade by ihe dl... \w;ch led to tht-
search by which the riurJlr was discovered.
The poor do:..g was covered with wouals, vwhL.:h LS had ,videnti
receive l in trying to _icfend his master froi.i the io.)ci_: s; but not e',C r
the ;ai; :.f Is \, wounds and the pangs of ;:hungr w. .L. he rr-o:;. hi:.
enlur.-id Juriing his onrg vi'il was sufficient to ir:d-.ce ir:n to leave, ti.e
decad b-ody of his master unlil le P W.a that le was at laSt in triendl y

JENNIE was a l;pett ittie girl with laugh;ng blue eyes an'd il.
cks and bright :rly hair. Sh-- iiv'ed in the country with i.-
fathi r a'l iTm th.r an. '...' ro.t!er, ii a arrc_ farm-house.
tin Jennii '- lth bi rt!Lay' he'ir Unclc Tinm brought her a .:'.i:,-: '.'
for a birtiu.-L1 l.,n--.r-nt. it. ir.t shei thought it .vas a fu:'ny th!ir, t .
a little :-.;irl flor a pr-:s.-nt, liut th,-n, as she said, Uncle Tom always -,"d
diff,-rently to othlir p: 1- ph.
Jr-: ni, soon gr-:w to be wonderfully fond of her dr-.i little i:y,
which \'.ais the nam3n she, gave to the _Lguinta-pig. 'he pretty Liin ani-
111al, t, quickly grew to know her and to run after hc-r. j-: ..,z- us..
to i.-,l he.-r pet with mnangel-wurzels an'd. other green ftio'd.
i.L-nie tauI.hit her little Popsy ti do s ime funny r ickls, a :..! it was
\Cer' obL' .l-1ii-,; and as Jennie, I am sorry to say. did not slinetni'.u; lIke
to do thel thing -.he was told to do, her mother hoped her p[.ti \'wid
teach lh-r hoflienc-:. linni-;'s .r>:'{tet.t punishment when she ..d l'er '
\ery nau wa naut not to be allowed to see her guinea-pig for the iest
of tiAt day.
Great Las ti r. delight of third little girl xlhen one weta aftern:oon he'
mother drew Pi,-,"' portrait, iJ.lc endn-: declared '.as -" s .e ke
Pops'," and so pleased was she wi'h it that she save-d iu all ihr ;.ii
cents and dimes to buy a frame f,'r it. Jennie a.ke. I.-; '.ther to It
her begin to learn to draw at ,nc. a; he ti.ic::c, ii it wo i'.! Le so i':
for her ". make a picture of P.T'psv hers':l.


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