Front Cover
 Title Page
 Flossy's baby
 Lost Alberta
 The sick kitten
 Birds in summer - Thorns for...
 Chippy's happy days
 There is a green hill far away
 When the owl is thinking -...
 A hotel for dogs
 Christmas in heaven
 Christmas bells
 The heritage of the rich and the...
 The jolly old crow
 Falls of the Mohawk River
 The dead doll
 Each day a fresh benediction
 Only a bird
 The evergreen pine
 Birds, butterflies, and bees
 Talking it over
 The loaf of bread
 The long sermon
 Papa's long story
 The cock and the fox
 Power of kindness
 A day at Lincoln Park
 Charlie on his way to hoe uncle's...
 The Christmas mittens
 'Tis not fine feathers that make...
 Home again
 Back Cover

Group Title: Hand in hand through every land : : stories and sketches
Title: Hand in hand through every land
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00083799/00001
 Material Information
Title: Hand in hand through every land stories and sketches
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : col. ill. ; 26 cm.
Language: English
Creator: W.B. Conkey Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: W.B. Conkey Company
Place of Publication: London ;
New York ;
Publication Date: c1895
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 -- 1895   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1895   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1895
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
United States -- Illinois -- Chicago
Statement of Responsibility: by leading authors and richly illustrated from drawings by best artists.
General Note: Text and illustrations printed in blue.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00083799
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223636
notis - ALG3887
oclc - 231756605

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Title Page
        Page 4
    Flossy's baby
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Lost Alberta
        Page 7
        Page 8
    The sick kitten
        Page 13
        Page 14
    Birds in summer - Thorns for flowers
        Page 9
        Page 10
    Chippy's happy days
        Page 11
        Page 12
    There is a green hill far away
        Page 18
    When the owl is thinking - Be kind
        Page 15
        Page 16 (MULTIPLE)
        Page 17
    A hotel for dogs
        Page 19
        Page 20
    Christmas in heaven
        Page 22
    Christmas bells
        Page 21
    The heritage of the rich and the poor
        Page 23
    The jolly old crow
        Page 24
    Falls of the Mohawk River
        Page 25
    The dead doll
        Page 26
        Page 27
    Each day a fresh benediction
        Page 28
    Only a bird
        Page 29
        Page 30
    The evergreen pine
        Page 31
    Birds, butterflies, and bees
        Page 32
    Talking it over
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
    The loaf of bread
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
    The long sermon
        Page 45
    Papa's long story
        Page 46
        Page 47
    The cock and the fox
        Page 48
        Page 49
    Power of kindness
        Page 50
        Page 51
    A day at Lincoln Park
        Page 52
    Charlie on his way to hoe uncle's corn
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
    The Christmas mittens
        Page 56
        Page 57
    'Tis not fine feathers that make fine birds
        Page 58
    Home again
        Page 59
        Page 60
    Back Cover
        Page 61
        Page 62
Full Text

fand- in fand Throuon Everu Lana.

.-_- --:- t

.4 -__..

Copyright, 1895 1y W 1 Corikey Corripary.


OMETHING for Flossy!" said papa one
night when he came home from the office.
He had a covered basket in his hand
which he placed on the floor by the side of
Flossy and Eva.
For Flossy ? repeated the little girl, her
eyes growing big and bright.
"Yes," answered papa, you can open it and see."
Flossy peeped in. Then a scream of delight and
the cover was tossed aside. Soon she was squeezing
a tiny black kitten in her arms.
"Oh, Eva, don't you wish papa'd brought you a
kitten, too? "
I like my dolls better. Dolls don't scratch," and
Eva looked lovingly at a row of dolls standing in one
"Well, I like a real live baby best. Now kitty can
go to sleep, and wake up, and cry, and eat milk, and
do lots of things. I like a kitty baby ever so much
better'n a doll baby."
Flossy sat down in her little rocking-chair and
rocked kitty till bedtime. And she could hardly be
persuaded to lay kitty in her basket even then. She
hopped out of bed once when nearly asleep, to see if
kitty was all right. Hearing her stir a little, she
thought one more hug might do her good.


ITTLE ALBERTA loved to wander about
L in the woods. Sometimes she took her
baby brother Victor with her. Then she
Could not go far.
One day, being all alone, she went further
than usual. She found many pretty flowers; and
she sat down and made them into wreaths. This
took her a long time. By-and-by she began to feel
hungry. She had a bit of bread in her pocket. After
eating it she felt hungrier than before. So she
thought she would go home and get more.
Which way was home? Alberta looked this way
and that. She walked a short distance in several
directions. But she finally came back to the large
stone under the big tree where she had made the
wreaths. She did not know where home was. She
was lost in the dense woods.
She could not help crying, for she feared she
should never find her home again. At last she
heard the tramp of horses. And a lady with her
attendants came in sight.
The lady saw Alberta. And when she found that
she was lost, she took her on her own horse and car-
ried her to Alberta's home.


ETTIE had a large family of dogs and kittens. There
was Frisk, the mother terrier, with a red cord and tassels
around her neck. Frisk was so small and so shaggy
any little child who did not know her, and had seen her
curled up on the carpet, would have been sure she was a dust-
brush but for two very bright eyes looking out from under that
heap of hair. Brisk was the new puppy Nettie had told Robbie
about, as funny a little fellow as ever girl or boy was fortunate
enough to have for a playmate.
Then there was Nannie, the big cat, and three of the cutest


kittens anybody ever laid eyes on. Two as white as Nettie's
ermine muff, with black tufts here and there, just as that had;
these were named Muffet and Tuffet, while a third, a soft, warm
gray, like its mother, was named for Robbie.
Such frolics as they had together, too-Nettie, Frisk, Brisk,
Nannie, and the kittens.
But one morning she went down into the dining-room and
saw them just as you see them in the picture there-Muffet's
round ball of a head pillowed on Frisk's fore paw, Kitty Robbie
cuddled up close behind them. Brisk, with his bright eyes very
wide open and fixed on Nettie, rested his pink nose on Miunllr.'s
back, while tiny Tippet, very wide awake too, nestled as near to
the group as it was possible to get. Nannie, looking as though
she had been up all night, was taking a good stretch with her
claws in the window-curtain. What did it mean ?
Muffet is sick this morning," said Nettie's father, in reply
to the wondering looks of his little girl. I can't get the pat
of a paw from either Tuffet or Kitty Robbie, nor the wag of a
tail from Frisk or Brisk."
No, nor could Nettie, although she tried her best to coax them
into a frolic. Not one of them would leave Muffet, who was
very sick indeed, yet seemed to take great comfort in seeing
them around her, and to feel better with her little drooping head
on Frisk's paw.

PROMPTED BY LOVE.-One morning found little Dora busy
at the ironing-table, smoothing the towels and stockings.
Isn't that hard work for the little arms ?" I asked.
A look like sunshine came into her face as she glanced toward
her mother, who was rocking the baby.
It isn't hard work when I do it for mamma," she said, softly.



HOW pleasant the life of a bird must be,
Flitting about in each leafy tree !-
In the leafy trees so broad and tall,
Like a green and beautiful palace hall,
With-its airy chambers, light and fair,
That open to sun and stars and moon;
That open unto the bright blue sky,
And the frolicsome winds as they wander by!
They have left their nests on the forest bough-
Those homes of delight they need not now;
And the young and the old they wander out,
And traverse their green world round about;
And hark at the top of this leafy hall,
How one to the other in love they call!
"Come up, come up !" they seem to say,
"Where the topmost twigs in the breezes sway.
"Come up, come up for the world is fair
Where the green leaves dance in the summer air."
And the birds below give back the cry:
"We come, we come, to the branches high."
How pleasant the life of a bird must be,
Flitting about in a leafy tree!
And away through the air what joy to go,
And to look on the bright green earth below!


T HERE is no lack of kindness
In this world of ours;
Only in our blindness
We gather thorns for flowers.
Oh, cherish God's best giving,
Falling from above!
Life were not worth living
Were it not for love.


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CHIPPY was a little Squirrel, born in a beautiful
wood. He was a merry little Chippy, of an ad-
venturous disposition; and, being somewhat unmindful
of parental authority, he paid the penalty of his rash
ness by being captured one bright morning by a sharp
young fellow, who had come up the lake with a boating
"arty. This will just do for Lizette," he said, she
is a great girl for pets, and a real live Chippy will de-
light her immensely." Poor Chippy was put into an
empty picnic basket, where all was dark and gloomy,
and there he had to stay till next morning. It seemed
ages to him, did this brief imprisonment, and, when he
was released, it was only to be put into a wire cage
where there was not room for him to stretch himself,
much less to run at will, as he had done in his native
forest. Still, though he was never again to know the
freedom of the forest and the woods, there were happy
days in store for him. Lizette was exceedingly kind to
him. She brought him nuts and berries, and he be-
came so tame, that he would come out of his cage and
sit on Lizette's lap by the hour. These were Chippy's
happy days. One day the cage being left open, he ven-
tured into the garden,. when a cat pounced upon him.
Lizette cried as though her heart would break. Poor
Chippy was stuffed, and Lizette made a little rockery
in the corner of'her bed-room, and there upon its sum-
mit poor Chippy sits, holding in his hand the nut ne
can never crack.

The flowers of feeling will fade at the birth,
If the dew of affection be gone.
Be kind to thy brother-wherever you are,
The love of a brother shall be
An ornament purer and richer by far
Than pearls from the :depths of the sea.
Be kind to thy sister-not many may know
The depth of true sisterly love;
The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below
The surface that sparkles above.
Thy kindness shall bring thee many sweet hours,
And blessings thy pathway to crown,
Affection shall weave thee a garland of flowers,
More precious than wealth or renown.


THERE is a green hill far away,
Without a city wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified
Who died to save us all.
We may not know, we cannot tell,
What pains he had to bear,
But we believe it was for us
He hung and suffered there.
He died that we might be forgiven,
He died to make us good,
That we might go at last to heaven,
Saved by his precious blood.
There was no other good enough
To pay the price of sin,
He only could unlock the gate
Of heaven, and let us in.
O, dearly, dearly has he loved,
And we must love him too,
And trust in his redeeming blood,
And try his works to do.

'rxzm! TEX oIYL m aan"UNG


BRIGHT gleams from yonder moated hall
The ruddy glow that strikes the rafter.
Like dreamland's twilight echoes, fall
The strains of music and of laughter;
Soft moonbeams o'er my drowsy pate
(Sloped sideways) steal, and set me blinking,
Yet dazzle not the thoughts sedate
That muster when an owl is thinking.
Like jay-birds hian's fantastic brood-
So owls decide-all mirth and chatter;
But Wisdom's court is solitude,
Her "happiness no laughing matter";
No cares this tranquil soul assail,
Past, present, future, calmly linking;
The universe in mental scale
Is balanced when the owl is thinking !


BE kind to thy father-for when thou wert young,
Who loved thee so fondly as he?
He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue,
And joined in thy innocent glee.
Be kind to thy father-for now he is old,
His locks intermingled with gray;
His footsteps are feeble, once fearless and bold-
Thy father is passing away.
Be kind to thy mother-for lo on her brow
May trades of sorrow be seen;
O, well may'st thou cherish and comfort her now,
For loving and kind she has been,
Remember thy mother--for thee will,she pray,
As long as God giveth her breath;
With accents of kindness then cheer her lone way,
E'en to the dark valley of death.
SBe kind to thy brother-his heart will have dearth,
If the smile of joy be withdrawn;

Z2 1

S A Hotel for Dogs.

VERY kind lady went from Boston to live in a little town in
Nebraska. It is very cold there in winter. The lady felt very
Sorry for all the cats and dogs that had to sleep out of doors.
When she saw a stray one about her yard at night, she would call it
in, and give it a nice, warm bed behind the kitchen stove. On some
cold nights she would have half-a-dozen lying asleep. So her lodging-
house came to be very well known and barked about.
One bitter cold night, while they were having a blizzard, the lady
and her son Louis sat by their cheery parlor fire. All at once they heard
a loud scratching at the door. Louis opened it, and there stood Rowdy,"
a dog which had lodged there before. With him were two dog friends, whom
he tried to introduce. He said, as well as he could, Please give my friends
shelter. It is a bitter night, and they have no place to sleep."
Rowdy did not try to come in, but looked first at the dogs and then at
Louis in a pitiful way. The boy asked his mother what he should do. The
lady came to the door, and, looking at the dogs, said to Rowdy:
"No, Rowdy; your friends have warm, shaggy coats on, and our -bfs'
are about full. They must go to some other hotel. But your, hair is very
short and thin, and you are very cold. You may come in and go to bed."
Rowdy turned around, and seemed to explain to his friends how ,it all
was. They quietly walked off the piazza, while Rowdy came in and went
to bed, where he lay tucked up in burlaps till morning.


CHRISTMAS again; bells chiming, children caroling, Christmas trees
blazing, stockings full to bursting, glad voices shouting, happy faces
smiling, jubilee everywhere! No holiday in the year is so full of merriment
and glee as this. It is the great Joy day of the year. And the reason for all this
happiness is not far to seek, for this is pre-eminently the Festival of Unself-
ishness. Everybody is thinking of some one else, planning some happy
surprisee and sending the thrill of sympathy and kindness through some
other heart It is a time of good cheer, because it is a time of good will.
People are never so happy as when they are working to make others happy;
it gives them a taste of heaven.


HER Christmas-tide is spent away from me;
She I loved best is home in heaven to-day;
A year ago we stood beside the pane,
Watching the children in the snow at play;
And now-she is away.
What does she do in that home new and bright?
I cannot make it seem that she is there,
The snow-bound grave-the still face, cold and white,
Hide thoughts of heaven and hinder all my prayer
Yet she is there !
And she must know I miss and mourn her sore;
She would not have me sad -why should I be?
We all go home some time -her time came first;
Earth's little while is a drop in the sea
Of life's eternity.
It is not long- Oh, other hearts that mourn
With me to-day, you who have loved, and miss
The dear companionship, the clasping hand,
The pressure of the dear lips in love's kiss,
Oh, think on this.
It is not long. Let us dry up our tears,
Forget the grave. Life is so large and wide
They live beyond our sight and Christ is there;
We all go home to spend some Christmas-tide,
And there abide.

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T> HE rich man's son inherits lands,
And piles of brick and stone and gold
And he inherits soft, white hands,
And tender flesh that fears the cold,
Nor dares to wear a garment old;
A heritage, it seems to me,
One would not care to hold in fee
The rich man's son inherits cares:
'.\ The bank may break, factory burn;
S\ Some breath may burst his bubbles hares:

A living that would suit his turn
A heritage, it seems to me,
One would not care to hold in fee.
What does the poor man's son inherit?
Stout muscles and a sinewy heart;
A hardy frame, a hardier spirit;
King of two hands; he does his part
In every useful toil and art,
A heritage, it seems to me,
A king might wish to holding fee.
SWhat does the poor man's son inherit?
Wishes o'erjoyed with humble things;
,\ A rank adjudged by toil-worn merit:
Content that from employment springs;
A heart that in his labor sings;
A heritage, it seems to me,
A kingmight wish to hold in fee.
Both heirs to some six feet of sod,
SAre equal in the ground at last;
\Prove title to your heirship vast.
By records of a well-filled past;
A heritage, it seems to me,
Well worth a life to hold in fee.

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On the limb of an oak sat a jolly old crow,
And chatted away with glee, with glee,
As he saw the old farmer go out to sow,
And he cried, "It is all for me, for me.

"Look, look! how he scatters the seed around;
He is wonderful kind to the poor, the poor;
If he'd empty it down in a pile on the ground,
I could find it much better, I'm sure, I'm sure.

"I have learned all the tricks of this wonderful man,
Who's such a regard for the crow, the crow,
That he lays out his ground on a regular plan,
And then covers his corn in a row, a row.

"Indeed, he must have a great love for me,
For he tries to entrap me enough, enough;
But I measure the distance as well as he,
And when he comes near me, I'm off, I'm off."

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F ROM rise of morn till set of sun
I've seen the mighty Mohawk run
And as I marked the woods of pine
Along his mirror darkly shine
Like tall and gloomy forms that pass
Before the wizard's midnight glass;
And as I viewed the hurrying pace
With which he ran his turbid race.
Pushing, alike untried and wild,
Through shades that frowned,
And flowers that smiled;
Flying by every green recess
That woo'd him to its calm caress,
Yet sometimes turning with the wind,
As if to have one look behind-
Oft have I thought, and, thinking, sighed,
How like to thee, thou restless tide,
May be the lot, the life of him
Who roams along thy waters' brim;
Through what alternate wastes of woe,
And flowers of joy my path may go.


Y OU need't be trying to comfort me-I tell you my dolly is dead!
There's no use in saying she isn't with a crack like that in her
It's just like you said it wouldn't hurt much to have my tooth out, that
And then, when the man 'most pulled my head off, you hadn't a word
to say.
And I guess you must think I'm a baby, when you say you can mend
it with glue,
As if I didn't know better than that! Why, just suppose it was you ?

You might make her look all mended-but what do I care for looks?
Why glue's for chairs and tables, and toys, and the backs of books!

My dolly my own little daughter! 0, but it's the awfullest crack!
It just makes me sick to think of the sound when her poor head went whack
Against that horrible brass thing that holds up the little shelf.
Now, Nursey, what makes you remind me ? I know that I did it myself?

I think you must be crazy-you'll get her another head!
What good would forty heads do her? I tell you my dolly is dead!
And to think I hadn't quite finished her elegant new spring hat!
And I took a sweet ribbon of hers last night to tie on that horrid cat!

When mamma gave me that ribbon-I was playing in the yard-
She said to me, most expressly, Here's a ribbon for Hildegarde."
And I went and put it on Tabby, and Hildegrade saw me do it;
But I said to myself, "Oh, never mind, I don't believe she knew it!"

But I know that she knew it now, and I believe, I do,
That her poor little heart was broken, and so her head broke to.
Oh, my baby! my little baby! I wish my head had been hit!
For I've hit it over and over, and it hasn't cracked a bit.

But since the darling is dead, she'll want to be buried, of course;
We will take my little wagon, Nurse, and you shall be the horse;
And I'll walk behind and cry; and we'll put her in this, you see-
This dear little box-and we'll bury her there out under the maple tree.

And papa will make me a tombstone, like the one he made for my bird;
And he'll put what I tell him on it-yes, every single word!
I shall say, ''Here lies Hildegrade, a beautiful doll, who is dead;
She died of a broken heart, and a dreadful crack in her head."


Every day is a fresh beginning;
Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
SAnd spite of old sorrow and older sinning,
And puzzles forecast and possible pain,
Take heart with the day, and begin again,

Ii) l;:



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SAN you see that old man behind his rows of
cages? In them are many poor little birds.
They cannot fly about in the pure sweet air.
,The old man sells them. That is the way
She earns his money.
Then why does he look so displeased?
The young man, with the empty cage in his hand,
has just bought a bird and laid the money on
the counter.
The young man loves birds so well that he bought
one on purpose to set it free.
The old mar is wishing he could get the bird and
sell it again. He thinks it foolish to throw away
money. And he tells the young man so.
Not thrown away, my friend," says the young
man. "It is well spent if it gives pleasure even to
the smallest creature."
"'Twas only a bird," insists the old man.
"But God made the birds. And not one falls to
the ground without his notice. I think we shall have
to give an account of the way we treat his birds."
"Well, I wish I had that one again."
"And I wish I could open all these cages."

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GAY little birds,
They twitter and sing,
From morning till night
How the green woods ring

Bright butterflies
Think not of the day,
When wild winds blow
And Jack Frost has sway.

.* Brave little bees
Fly here and fl) there,
To lay up food
Ere the fields ai e bare.




.ERE, there, and everywhere flitted the
birds. The air seemed full of them. They
twittered, and chirped, and warbled, and a
few sung a note or two. But a few of
them appeared to be too anxious about
something to sing much. They seemed
to be talking over some important matter
very earnestly.
One bird, perched on the edge of the roof, took no
notice of all this confusion. I thought he had his eyes
shut; but I could not see very distinctly. By and by
they decided upon something.
Several of the birds flew down to the one sitting
alone After a good deal of fuss, they got him away
from the edge of the roof, up among the vines which
hung thickly in that corner. They must have thought
it a safer place for a sick bird.
Then I judged that two were chosen to wait upon
him. For the rest flew away, and I noticed these two
bringing food to him many times during the day.
But the next morning I saw the poor little bird
lying on the ground dead. Then the birds came to-
gether again and talked over his death. But I suppose
they knew they could do no more, for soon they all
flew away. And I buried the dead bird under the

"What is that girl do-ing?" did you ask?
Why, she is mak-ing lace on a cush-ion.
There are ma-ny dif-fer-ent kinds of lace,
and some is worked with the nee-dle in damp
cel-lars and some can be made up-on cush-
ions in the bright sun-light. I would ra-ther
work at this kind, would not you? I think
that it looks ve-ry pleas-ant by that o-pen door,
with the birds sing-ing and the 'wind-mill
whirl-ing round and round in the soft sum-
mer air. Jean-nette thinks so, at an-y rate;
but one rea-son that she en-joys it so much
is that she has earned a nice lit-tle sum by
this ve-ry lace-mak-ing, and to-mor-row, if it
is fine, she is go-ing to the mar-ket town with
her fa-ther to buy a new gown. "Shall it be
pink, like a rose, or blue, like the sky?" she
says. When she comes home the next day
and un-rolls the par-cel, be-hold! it will be
vi-o-let, like the flow-ers in her hat. Ve-ry
proud she will fell as she wears it.

ii.i T'



RII ~811~ ~-~3

r t

'ji'if Cr~~~


-. OME, children, if you will all sit down and keep quiet, I
SII i will tell you a story father read to me last night.
S The little ones all agreed to Tom's proposition, and
were soon seated around him.
So Tom began, as follows:-
In a time of famine a rich man allowed twenty of the
poorest children in the town to come to his house, and said to
them, In this basket there is a loaf of bread for each of you;
take it, and come again at the same hour every day till God
sends better times."
The children pounced upon the basket, struggled and fought
over the bread, because each wished to have the largest and best


loaf, and then they went away without a word of thanks to
their friend.
But Francesca, a little girl meanly though neatly dressed,
stood at a distance, and gratefully took the loaf that was left in
the basket, which was the smallest, then she kissed the good
man's hand and went quietly home.
The next day the children were just as naughty and ill-be-
haved, and this time there was left for poor Francesca a loaf
that was hardly half as large as the others. But when she
reached home and her mother cut the bread, there fell out a
number of new pieces of silver. The mother was frightened,
and said, Take back the money this moment, for it is certainly
in the bread by mistake."
Francesca took it back.
But the kind man said, "It is no mistake, my good child: I
had the money baked in the smallest loaf in order to reward
you. Be always as contented and yielding as you now are.
He who is contented with the smallest loaf, rather than quarrel
for the largest, will receive abundant blessings."


OTHER," said little Annie Ray,
S" Why must I sit and sew?
.1 Why must I dust the room each day ?
I'm sure I do not know.

"You say that 'tis less trouble
For you these things to do,
Than spend your time in teaching me;
And that I'm sure is true."


"Then, mother, let me run and play;
The little birds are singing,
The lark is on his upward way,
The bee his honey bringing.

"The butterfly from flower to flower
Roams o'er the smiling meadow,
The little brook sings on among
Sunshine and silent shadow."

"And he who would be glad as they,
Must be as useful too,"
The mother said, as to her side
Her child she fondly drew.

"Not for himself the light-winged lark
Sings as he upward soars,
But for his mate and nestlings dear
His song of love outpours.

"Not for himself the laden bee
Flies home on weary wings;
My Annie knows what honey sweet
From fields and woods he brings."

Lit-tle lips that dim-pie
With a joy-ous smile,
Which with words so sim-ple
Oft my heart be-guile.

May those sweet lips nev-er
Speak the thing that's wrong;
Be their love notes ev-er
Truth's most love-ly song.


1.- L111;l

OH, the sun is bright and the day is fair, We can't understand, though we take such paioA
And the sweet breeze wanders everywhere, All sense seems gone from our little brains;
And the sweet birds sing as they lightly fly, So we just sit quiet as best we may,
And I wish we could join them, Joe and I. And wait till the long hour wears away.
We were bidden to listen, and so we do, Ok, how can he have so muck to say,
Shut up in the narrow and stuffy pew; T'eI preacher-man, such a lovely day?
Behaving just as well as we can And what in the world he is talklg aboo
We look over there at the preacher-man, We do al kow a4 we t we t fiand t.

I" 'Y U1I tiJ ll'

~I- LAI fFi

R. CHARLTON was sitting alone in the study, when
-I4 'the door opened, and two little voices cried at once,
r 'L) "Papa, my dear papa! do tell us a story, and let it
be a good long story."
"You want a long story, my little ones ?" said Mr. Charlton,
with a smile: "well, listen, and I will give you one that will
occupy a long time in telling."
Oh, that will be famous!" exclaimed little Andrew; and
Gertrude seemed decidedly of the same opinion.
"Well, listen," said papa, "for now our long story is going
to begin."
But we must wait a moment, my dear little readers, before
we begin this famous story; for I have not told you that Mr.
Charlton had come home later than usual that evening, and
that it was very near the children's bed-time, a fact which the
little rogues knew perfectly well. Now, their mamma was
always anxious that Andrew and Gertrude should go to bed in


proper time; for late hours are not healthy for little children,
who should remember the old proverb, Early to bed and early
to rise;" so that the children were highly delighted, and
mamma was a little alarnied, when Mr. Charlton prepared to
begin his long story so late in the evening. Having given you
this piece of explanation, we will let papa tell his story for him-
self. He said,-
Once upon a time there was a good careful shepherd. He
had begun with a very few sheep of his own; but now the flock
had increased, through his care and watchfulness, so that he
had nearly two hundred lambs, besides the old sheep. But be-
sides these sheep he had a pretty little daughter, of whom he
was exceedingly fond; and the little girl took greatly to the
lambs, especially to those that were weak and required care;
and the lambs, on their part,, would follow her about every-
where, and seemed to thank her for the care and kindness she
showed to them.
Now, one day the shepherd, who had driven all the sheep
and lambs out into the meadow, determined to take them into a
new meadow where there was some fine fresh grass. But to
get to this meadow it was requisite to cross a swift and rapid
streamlet, and the only way across this streamlet was by a very
weak and narrow bridge, formed of a single plank. Now, the
shepherd feared that if he let his sheep and lambs crowd all
together on this bridge, it might break beneath their weight, or
that some of them, in their hurry to get across, might push
others over into the water. Therefore he called his little
daughter, and told her to cross the streamlet, and to coax one
lamb over after her; and when that was safe on the other side,
to return and call another, and so on, until all should have
crossed; but to be careful that only one lamb followed her
each time.
Now you can fancy how often the little maid would have to


recross the bridge before all the sheep followed her one by one
and were in safety in the opposite meadow; and, indeed, it will
take such a long time that we must wait till to-morrow before
they have crossed-and you see what a long story this will make.
Therefore I propose that in the mean time you both go to bed."
Here their papa paused, and Gertrude and Andrew both
looked a little foolish. But, as they went up-stairs, they de-
cided it would perhaps be better to wait for an evening when
papa came home early, before they asked him for a long
story again.

HE fox, passing early one summer's morning near a farm-
yard, was caught in a spring, which the farmer had
planted there for that end. The cock, at a distance, saw
what had happened; and, hardly yet daring to trust him-
self too near so dangerous a foe, approached him cautiously, and
peeped at him, not without some horror aud dread of mind.

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


POOR woman used to give an elephant, who often passed
her stall in the market, a handful of greens, of which
he was very fond. One day he was in a great fury, and
broke away from his keeper, and came raging down the
market-place. Every one fled, and in her haste the market-
woman forgot her little child. But the furious elephant, instead
of trampling it to death, picked it up tenderly and laid it on
one side in a place of safety. Do you think she was sorry she
gave him his handful of greens as he went by ? No. We
never lose by a kind action, no matter to whom it is done.

A Day at Lincoln Park.

NE bright day last June, Roy and his papa went to Lincoln Park to see
the many sights to be found there. Roy had long wanted to see the ani-
mals, and as soon as they reached the park, he went, first of all, to
the lion house.
Here were the lions, tigers, leopards, hyerias and monkeys. The crowds of people
were so great that there was little pleasure there, yet Roy spent some time in
watching the wild beasts pace to and fro in their iron cages.
The monkeys filled him with delight. There were eight of them in the cage,
and their pranks and antics made all the people laugh. A gentleman was stand-
ing near the cage, and, as he turned to speak to a friend, one of the monkeys
reached through the bars and slyly pulled the man's ear. This tickled Roy so
much. that he gave the monkey some pop-corn.
Then they went to see the wolves, and Roy pointed to the largest one and
asked his papa if that was the kind of a wolf that tried to eat Little Red Riding-
hood. His papa thought that a wolf no larger than that could not eat even a little girl.
They saw the buffalos, the deer, the badgers, the wild-cats, the sea-lions, the prai-
rie dogs and the elephants, and then went to the bear-pit. A great many people had
gathered there to see the keeper feed the bears. As the keeper came up with the food
for the bears, they began to growl and strike one another. The keeper threw the stale
bread and raw meat into the pit, and Roy thought it great fun to see the bears eat.
Each one seemed to be afraid that he would not get his share, and they all ate very fast,
like boys at a picnic. After the bears had eaten their supper, they seemed to feel much
better and began to play. Two of them rolled and tumbled on the ground like pup-
pies, while others climbed the posts in the pit.
While Roy was leaning over the railing, watching the bears at play, his hat fell off
and went to the bottom of the pit. One of the bears quickly seized it, and taking
it in his'large paws, hugged it until it was a shapeless mass. Roy felt badly to see
his new hat spoiled, but it could not be helped. He had to go home bare-headed;
but he told his papa that he had a very pleasant day at the park.


OT long after this, mamma and Charlie left their
city home for a little visit to an uncle farmer.
Charlie thought. the daisies and chickens were
worth all the streets of Boston.
One morning he heard
his uncle say, that, after he
had gone to market, he
should hoe the corn.
Charlie thought it would
Sbe a pleasant surprise to
Ships good uncle to find the
=' corn all hoed; so, when
his mother supposed he
was. feeding the chickens;
__'-,^ -the little farmer had helped
himself to tools, and had
-hod the corn by the roots,
pulling down the stalks
and stamping upon them like a hungry cow.
That was indeed a "surprise" to the uncle, and an
unpleasant surprise for Charlie followed.

1 *

RoB was a farm-er's son. He spent his days
out in the fields, play-ing, and thought it fine
fun. But one day his fa-ther looked at him,
and said, Why, you have grown to be a big
boy! You are large e-nough to watch the
sheep now." So there was no help for poor
Rob! He had to be-gin to work in-stead of
play. He did not like it at all; but his lit-tle
sis-ter Madge of-ten came in-to the field with
him, and played while he watched the sheep.

PM"k--si-k- j -"-Reom NIS

TJe .sristmas5 Titters.

You will remember the tale
Of the three little kittens
That were careless at play,
And came in with no mittens.

It was early in winter,
And the three little kittens
Wondered what they should do,
In the snow, with no mittens.

So they sat by the fire,
All the three little kittens,
And they dozed and they slept,
And forgot they'd no mittens.

Then their grandmother said:
"See our three little kittens

They are stupid, they're dull,
All because of no mittens.

"Now, as Christmas is coming,
For our three little kittens,
I suggest that we knit
Some delightful new mittens."

So the aunts and the grandmas
Of the three little kittens
0, they knit day and night
On the dear little mittens.

And I certainly hope
That these three little kittens
Will take care not to lose
The pretty new mittens,



SkewsaLrt with jwrnsi -ker Kair .

|fe wasa vroud1 It of Chin.ese yy
I .he Iap f a ": .nd r_ -m......
S- a '"'- .-
k~esiqced ;.e ei'ke S5.w kn appear o nSe
o^^ sk tkou ht ot .hbeslakab old frocK;
:'brie SavOjj l \o^_ ke i scrn^ olatchn
-'s comes ota +er o 'udi sto cK
I']hke MancdarinsnetPed as Re ofa afroc\t \lc,
ut his nid.h Rad.l fa wl Ae kve.. ounh
Ska+t t k {a-.n was dti ialckied toLb e~' a i show,
Tor he weautV 'and' & 'ae) v eo
S6o \,eN ae IItm qone othISlf lk J^
&lar. acla dc Timi.u tol of- pi-.,
It is otr ; -fe s tk e 'tia{~ t{
Sftc tkewrtkv the bri 'tKaisT^
Uo^S^. ,^^--^^ge.


LICE, wake up. Here we are home again."
Little Alice rubbed her eyes and tried
hard to get them open. But it wasn't an
easy thing to do. She had been riding all
day and was very tired. But she was so
glad to get home again, that she was
looking out of the carriage window before she could
really see.
O see the roses, mamma! They are running way
up on the roof. How pretty!"
Our dear home looks lovely just now, Alice. I'm
glad we came at this time."
"So am I, mamma. Our house is the prettiest
house in all the world: isn't it, papa?"
"I haven't- looked at it yet. These trunks and
boxes must be attended to first. But I know it is
lovely, Alice, without looking."
After tea papa took little Alice on his knee and
said, "This has been my home, Alice, for more than
thirty years. And there is no spot on earth quite like
it to me. I hope my little girl will always love her
home as well as she does now."
Alice threw her arms round papa's neck, and kiss-
ing him, said, "How can I help loving it, when you
and mamma are here? I have the dearest papa and
mamma in the world."

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