Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Home stories
 Back Cover

Group Title: Home stories : pictures and stories for little folks.
Title: Home stories
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00085417/00001
 Material Information
Title: Home stories pictures and stories for little folks
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 27 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Lothrop Publishing Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: Lothrop Publishing Company
Place of Publication: Boston
Publication Date: c1896
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Animals -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1896   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1896   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1896
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00085417
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223801
notis - ALG4054
oclc - 79616816

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Front Matter
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Title Page
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Home stories
        Page 7
        Page 8
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    Back Cover
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Full Text

c 41

I .

', 1

lhe Baldmin Libnry

I L~mr .r
-- 11j9 nL

4 u




Copyright, 1896,

All rights reserved.


Two Pussies, Spot and Blackie, had just stolen a great piece
of cheese from the pantry. "Let us carry it out to the barn
and eat it there," said Blackie. So out they went.
"Oh! how hungry I am!" said Spot, and she bit a great
piece off one side. You greedy thing!" said Blackie, that's
the part I was going to take."
Well, it's mine as much as it is yours," said Spot.
With that she boxed Blackie's ears, and Blackie gave her a
bad scratch on the nose. And they fought till their fur was
very much tumbled, and the cheese got on the floor.
"Let's ask Judge Jocko to divide the cheese for us," said Spot.
"So they carried the cheese to Judge Jocko.
There he sat, in his wig and spectacles, looking very wise,
and he listened while the two cats told their story.
"0, yes, I will divide it," said he. So he broke the cheese
into two pieces, and put one piece into each scale.
This piece is a little too large," said Judge Jocko; I'll bite
off a bit to make it smaller." So he did.
"Now the other piece is too big," said Judge Jocko, and he
bit a piece of that, too, and weighed the two pieces again.
So he kept on -first he weighed, and then he bit, and tnen
he weighed, and then he bit. The two Pussies began to feel
very uneasy. At last there was only a small piece left. Judge
Jocko held it up and looked at it through his glasses.
"This is not much for two cats," said he, "not more than
5 bite. I guess I'll eat this myself." And he did.
And so Spot and Blackie lost that cheese. -Pamela lMA. Cole.



I know a little fairy,
I have named her "Queen of Hearts";
She's sweet and bright and winsome,
And do fairies trundle carts?

Do they talk like grown-up folks?
Do they tell of their affairs?
How with measles, croup and maids,
They are quite worn out with cares ?

Do they pet and squeeze the kitten
Till it squeals outright for air?
E- ODo they wear a silken ribbon
QUEEN OF HEARTS." In their soft and silken hair?

When they talk of Christmas gifts-
The jolly little elves! -
Do they wish a chamber-set
And a big room to themselves?

When tired out with make-believe
Their brain begins to whirl,
Do they climb your lap and say
"I'll be your little girl"?
Helen Bird.



~ .t:




All the storks have left their boxes and nests in Holland and
Germany and the north countries of Europe to go.down into the
hot tropic lands of Africa to spend the winter. They do 'this
every autumn. They fly in great flocks by night. They are
strong swift flyers, and pass along high up in the air. They alight
in great companies to feed in the fens and marshes along the
way. They eat frogs and snakes and eels and fishes. They chatter
with their long bills, and make a great noise; they have no voice,
like most birds. But they seem to understand one another. The
stork sleeps standing on one leg, it is said, folding its -long neck
so that its head rests back on its shoulder. S. E. F.





0 'twas a very fierce creature
This morning I had to pass,
And he shook his mane of yellow
As I went by on the grass,
And his curly tail he twisted
And he wound it round his arm,
And looked as though wouldd be pleasant
To do me a bit of harm!
But I laughed in his face -it is really true -
For I've no fear of a dandelion- have you?
-S. T.


Juno was Nellie's Jersey calf.
Mr. Billings gave her to auntie who knew no more what to do
with her than if she had been a dromedary. Nellie had no live
thing, so she took the bossy and became a one-cow farmer.
Juno was named and then installed in a stall which the boys'
hens had used for a living-room. To comfort the three orphan
biddies, who were the last of a large family, Nellie carried them
into another place, where she made nine nests in a row and ex-
plained to them that Juno was old enough to have a room alone.
When spring came Juno was allowed to run and play in the
green square before the stable with Nellie and little Annie Bird.
How dreadfully snarly her bang is," said Nellie, kissing the
curl in Juno's forehead. "We need a calf-comb. We'll get


one and have Juno all smoothed up. Mr. Brown keeps combs."
A calf-comb ?" said Mr. Brown, smiling at the small buyer
whom he knew very well, as she looked over his stock of combs.
"A large one," replied Nellie, and mamma will pay you."
Mr. Brown tied it in paper and asked if he should send it, but the
offer was declined with thanks, and the young herders ran home.
When mamma came and looked for her little girl, Juno's toilet


was nearly completed. Her head and half of her body were
smoothed nicely. The comb, dipped in a wash-basin of water every
time it was drawn through Juno's bangs, was filled with curly red
hair, which Nellie was trying to remove.
In the confusion of seeing a visitor before she was ready, Juno
put her foot into the wash-basin and all the water ran out, so
that her other side was not combed. Louis iall.


I '' I I
I. I' ii




A f




Little John Johnson would not make a flower-garden in the
spring when his sister Kitty did; but in mid-summer when Kitty
had pinks and poppies and sweet-peas he said le would have a
garden too -" a ready-made garden, and not work and wait."
What do you think he did? He went out by the woods, to an
open green spot, and dug up and set out ferns and big yellow
daisies in bloom, and golden-rod and meadow-sweet and little trees.
Then he called Kitty. It was very fine. But the next morning
- where was his garden ? Sara E. Farman.




In a large garden were seven pigeons, but they were unlike
each other.
The largest bird said, "See what I can do," and he took a
long breath and his crop puffed out so large that the other pigeons
had to play peek-a-boo to see his head behind it.
"I," said the passenger-pigeon, "came from the South, where I
have millions of pigeon friends. Sometimes we would all fly at
once; then we looked like a big black storm. When we all sang


' coo' together, it sounded as if the clouds were singing. We could
eat two barns full of grain in one day. I lived with a hundred
other pigeons in one tree. I flew once from the Carolina rice-fields
to New York in six hours."
"I," said the carrier-pigeon, "once carried a letter which was

*" ,- '. ("' .- -- K


pinned under my wing by a little girl. I carried it one hun-
dred and fifty miles in an hour. But the little girl bathed my
feet in vinegar before I started, so they would keePp ccl."
From Russia I came," said the fourth pigeon. "While there
I looked in an open window. There sat a man named Krilof,
writing fables. He scattered over his beautiful carpets some oatt,
so I went in and began to eat them. My pigeon friends went in,
too, but the door opened and frightened us so that we started to
hurry away, and broke some vases and window-glass. At twi-
light we all flew to the church."
"Just see what I can do," said pigeon-tumbler, and he flew
around in the air, turned a somersault, and after tumbling over
came down again. But the fan-tail pigeon did not say a word.
He only spread out his tail like a fan and stood with it behind
his head.
"I can eat grain," said a common pigeon, "and then from a
pocket in my crop I can get milk to mix with it and feed it
to my two little babies in the pigeon-cote."
Nina Stevens Shaw.




My Dandy dog, the leaves are red,
And, dear, do you remember
How red the roses were in June?
And now it is September.

When we are back in city streets,
And when the snow is falling,
We'll sometimes see the meadow brook
And hear the cat-bird calling.

And when your nose is on the rug,
And fast asleep you're seeming,
I'll know your little head is full
Of pleasant summer dreaming.
E. L. O.

IN 1775.

Early the next day Tommy Bennett was to start to be a soldier.
But in all their store, there was no blanket that seemed thick
enough, the mother thought, to keep her boy warm and dry
of nights.
"Father, what shall I do?" she said; I can not let my boy
go without a blanket of heavy gray. We have no wool, and if
we had, I'm not strong enough to weave a blanket in so short
a time."

IN 1775.

"Widow Abigail Burnham has sheep heavy with fleece," said
Mr. Bennett, and I have heard her say they ought not to wait for
the shearing. Perhaps she could help. I will step over and see."
Widow Abigail had five fatherless children; Molly, eight years
old, Jack, six, IRuth, four, and the twins, Mark and Luke, now
about two, and they all worked hard to keep together.
Mr. Bennett told Widow Abigail all about the need of a new
blanket. She thought
it over. There were
twenty four hours
before Tommy must
"Well, sir," she
said, "if you and
your men will shear i
the sheep, I will try
it. Haply, my dye
pots are full, and
the loom is empty."
Then she gave a
word to the children. A teaspoonful of real tea at every meal-
time, Molly dear, for mother's need; and a good fire, Jack, my
boy; and all my little men and women must help, by being
uncommon good."
Surely sheep were never before so swiftly shorn. The sun shone
bright to dry the well-washed wool; the widow's hands carded it
into soft rolls; then the big wheel whirled so one could not see
a single spoke, as the rolls were spun and wound into skeins;
and when, after their dip in the dyes, they came in from the
bushes by the south door, quick, back and forth, flew the shuttle,-
until, in just twenty hours from the sheep-shearing, the gray


blanket, a double-ender with blue stripes, was drawn from the
hooks, pressed with the biggest goose, and was ready for Tommy
Bennett to roll behind his saddle.
The little ones had been good; Ruth and Molly had fed their
mother with potatoes by the spoonful as she stepped to and fro
before the wheel; the babies had carried her pieces of bannock;
Ruth held the bowl of warm porridge, and Molly had put the
cup of tea to her mouth, while Jack kept the fire. And Widow
Abigail Burnham did not stop work in all the twenty hours.
And then Tommy rode away to join the soldiers and fight
at Bunker Hill.
Years after the war was over, when Molly was a young woman,
she and Tommy Bennett had a fine wedding, and there is a piece
of that blanket in an old house in New Durham, this very day.
Adelaide Cilley Waldron.

J'-J[- i 09e m} cup,
S' ve torn s oe.-

SLitten's run awa.
I uess I've ost

some ea [ldren,

01b ear, -'sP_ .OvL.3aa




I had rather go a-coasting
Than sit by the fire a-roasting!
Won't you go?
For I know how to steer,
And I can take you clear
Across the pond,
And way beyond,
And that's not very near!
Won't you go ?

And what if you do tip over?
The snow is as soft as clover!
Won't you go?
Hang on tight when it jumps,
And never mind the bumps!
We coast and climb,
Have a jolly time!
And who cares for the thumps!
Won't you go ?
C. H. Crandall.


The poor men in European countries who own horses are for
the most part more kind to them than the teamsters we see in
our own cities; and the little children are taught to think about


the comfort of animals. On
the roads among the Swiss
mountains, in "fly-time," one
may see troops of boys and
girls armed with branches of
walnut leaves to drive away
the horseflies from the pass-
ing horses. Sometimes little
children go along the steep
roads where there is much
travel, and carry sticks of
wood to "pop un-
when a carriage -_ -
to rest, so that he
"hold back the car- ,
is standing. They 'i
rewarded by the ,
A driver is care-
rain beat upon his ..
expose the head to E
_. :- -. .-- -.. ==




der the wheel"
stops for the horse
-, 7 may not have to
riage" while he
are usually well
Sful not to let the
horse's head, or to
rAI. the great heat of
the sun. A traveler relates
that in Italy she saw a man:
rush into a butcher's shop, in:
a sudden storm, to get a cover-
ing for his horse's head, and
finding nothing else he came
out with a lambskin. In some
parts of France there are tall
horns on the harnesses which
support broad hats over the
horses' heads in storm and in


hot weather. In Italy it is a common thing for the drivers to
jump down and bonnet their horses if a rain begins.
In some localities the plough-horses not only wear hats to pro-
tect them from the heat, but also huge aprons or pinafores as a
guard against flies as they toil up and down the hot fields.
-Sara E. Parman.


Flora has a dog named Mac, who, though he is not beautiful
is very bright, and does some funny things. He knows a number
of tricks, and will sneeze when Flora tells him to.
One day Flora tried to teach him to stand upon his hind legs
in a corner of the room. But Mac is a dog of decided opinions,
and she soon saw that he had made up his mind that such a
thing was not to be thought of. When she would set him up
he would make himself perfectly limp, and would topple over on
to the floor. Flora scolded, coaxed and commanded; but Mac
would not sit up, and at last it had to be given up.
About a year after that, Flora came into the room one day,
and found her best bonnet, which always hung in the hall closet,
dragged to the floor and chewed to rags. Looking around she
saw Mac lying under the sofa, pretending to be asleep. She knew
at once that he was the culprit, and called him to her; but his
tail drooped, and he slunk to the other end of the room.
"Mac, did you do that?"
Mac closed his eyes, and feebly wagged his tail.
"Come here, you bad dog! "
Mac knew he was about to be punished. He glanced wildly from
the torn bonnet to Flora's face. Then, as the summons was repeated,


he rushed to the corner where she had tried to teach him to sit,
and stood straight up begging so pitifully that his little mistress
couldn't punish him. "Well, you're sorry, aren't you, Mac ?" was
Small she said.
Mac was very fond of our kittens. There was one that was his
favorite, a silly little thing that often came to grief by following
people down the
street, and then los- -
ing its way. One
day Mac and this .
kitten were sun- -
ning on the front
porch, when the kit- .
ten started off after
some ladies that
passed the house.
'Mac watched her
until she came to
the crossing. Then
she stopped, and
began to cry. Af-
ter watching her a
minute, Mac got
up, and started
towards her. When
he reached her the
kitten was running "WELL, YOU'RE SORRY, AREN'T YOU, MAC?"
around not know-
ing which way to go. When she saw Mac .she trotted towards him,
and he took her in his mouth and trotted home with her, carry.
ing her up the steps to the porch, where he put her down. C.



"I always think of a lion
With tossing yellow mane,
When March, the loud and blustering March,
Roars over hill and plain,
-Roaring and shaking the tree-tops,
Leaping upon the lake,
As if with hungry claws and fangs
Its very life to take."

So I said this wild bright morning,
With a shudder and a sigh,
To Ted, who watched the withered leaves
And sticks go flying by.
Pointing his little finger,
He said, with grave wise air,
"It makes me think of a lion, too-
That dandelion there."

And sure enough he had spied one,
The first of all the year,
That common, sunny little, flower
The children hold so dear.
And I said, as he ran bareheaded
After the bit of gold,
"If dandelions are come at last,
Who cares for wind and cold ?"
Clara Doty Bates.


; ;!~;

'''r!~si:\xTI ~
''ir!';r.....,: .1''\1


Mistress May,
Blithe and gay,
Bought a ribbon blue to-day -
"Frow-frow, pet,
Come and get
This your ribbon new," she'll say-
Wow-wow! wow-wow-wow!

Mistress sweet,.
For a treat,
Bought me bon-bons -" Now repeat,
Mer merci,
After me,"
She will say when next we meet!
Yip, yip! yip, yip, yip!

Mistress mine,
"They should shine,
These your ringlets, Frow-frow, fine."

-- r


Says she; "hush,
Let me brush:
Now of tangles not a sign!"
Yup, yup! yup, yup, yup!

Mistress fair,
On a chair,
Tosses me and pulls my hair-
What a fuss
Romping thus -
I must take a nap somewhere!
Wow-wow I wow-wow-wow!
M. J. H.


Farmer Brown had two little pigs. whose mother was sick, and
unable to afford them any nourishment.
As they were nice, plump little fellows, the farmer could not
bear to see them perish of hunger. So he brought .i em into the
kitchen, put some milk into a nursing-bottle, such as babies' use,
and offered it to them. They took hold at once, and swallowed the'-.
milk with great satisfaction, one after the other. Very soon they
learned to drink their milk out of a small basin and would come
for it themselves the moment they heard the farmer's voice.
When he stood at the kitchen door, and called: "Come, Laddies!"
they would come rushing, full gallop, from the pig-pen. They always
came on the full gallop, exactly abreast,, like a little team; and


when they had had their milk, returned to their mother in the
very same order. Then they snuggled down beside her for a nap.
Sometimes, when they got hungry in- the night, they would come
tnder the farmer's bedroom window, and squeal, and squeal, for him
to get up and feed them. But he, thinking that would only teach
them a bad habit, and that pigs, as well as children, ought to
practice self-control, paid no attention to them. So they had to
go back to their mother, grunting discontentedly, no doubt.
After awhile they became old enough to drink swill from the
trough, like the other pigs.
Isabella McFarlane.


Brave little tourist, the snow line you climb--
No wonder you're wearing your furs all the time!
IM. J. H.






Mr. Brown had a "bird dog," a very handsome pointer, and
I must tell you how he xvas spoiled for hunting; it was so
funny a circumstance that his master always laughed when he
told the story, although he was much vexed to lose so good a
game dog.
His housekeeper had a parrot given to her, and the first time
the dog came into the room where the bird was, he stopped
and "pointed." The parrot slowly crossed the room, and came
up in front of the dog, and looked him square in the eye, and
then, after a moment, said she, "You're a rascal!"
The dog was so much astonished to hear a bird speak that
he dropped his tail between his legs, wheeled about, and ran
away; and from that day to this he has never been known to
"point" at a bird. -S.

Ir ---
'' /:~

rt4) K







Arthur began to earn his
pony when he was six years
old. He began to ask for
one then, and papa said,
When you earn it, my boy."
Arthur said, "How can a lit-
tle boy earn a pony?" His
papa told him that no one
should own a horse who could
not control his temper, or
remember to feed his pets
at the same hour each day,
or who thought it too much
trouble to wash and comb and
brush them, and keep their
houses clean.
When Arthur was twelve,
he was a neat, orderly, kind,
careful, respectful lad, and his
papa began to send him to riding-school; and on his fourteenth
birthday Arthur got the pony he had earned." --. E. .

I -



"How do you do, Mr. Claus?" Eddie was so surprised that he
became polite at once. Old Santa smiled, and bowed to the three
little people who looked at the doors and chimney, wondering how
he came in.
Eddie drew a long breath. "Hope you'll excuse us for staying
up so late, but Auntie let us help her and"-
Certainly," said Santa, in a rough but kind voice, it is early
for me, but you have been such very good children the past year
that I've a word to say about it. You are growing too large
for playthings and perhaps you would like to choose something
else. Would a journey to Washington with Uncle John suit you ?"


There was a joyful squeal from Ed and Mollie;
Or perhaps," and he smiled at Toodles till he showed a great
many white teeth for such an old man, you would like a Shetland
pony and a cart that will hold three-yes, four children.
One scream of delight from the three told which they would
like best, for, as Toodles said, they did not need to fink" about it.
"Can I go and pick him out?" cried Mollie.
"My dear," said Santa, we must send to the Shetland Islands
and get back in six hours. What would you be good for to-
morrow if you crossed the Atlantic twice before morning?"
0, Auntie," they all began, turning as she came in, "Santa
Claus has come and let us choose our present. We hope he'll
always do so, it's ever so much nicer, and he's such a good man."
Santa did not hear this, for when they looked he was gone.
Louis Hall.


What is it you want, my pussy,
That you look so wistful and meek ?
Some milk, or a bit of the chicken?
Come here, let me pat your soft cheek.

S Ali. lsy you're making believe,
S\-- *,:,,, look altogether too meek.
NN' You've just come out of tlih
7 .. 'I ,
S There's milk on your whis-
'' -- i .- kers and cheek!





A little girl of eight years is the heiress to the Dutch Crown,
and there is no knowing how soon she may be called upon to
wear it. Her name is Princess Wilhelmine, and her wise parents
are bringing her up just as any healthy girl should be, whether
princess or not. In the royal park at Loo, their favorite resi-
dence, the little princess takes long rides on her own little pony,
drives a pair of ponies, or a four-in-hand, boats on the lake in
her own little yacht Emma, and feeds the deer, and the pigeons
near her chalet. She is very fond of country pleasures, and rides,
drives, and boats to her heart's content.
Her teachers are not allowed to make any difference with her
on account of her high position, not even to call her "Your
Royal Highness." The Queen herself teaches her to play the
piam- and to ride.
One day last winter the Queen and the little Princess were
driving in a sledge over the ice between the palace and the
Hague. They came upon a number of sturdy little Dutch chil-
dren who were having a very good time snow-balling. The Princess
was most anxious to join them, so the Queen stopped the sledge
and allowed her to get out. Off ran the happy little Princess
into the midst of the other children, as eager for .the fray as
any one of them; and for a whole quarter of an hour the
future Queen of the Hollanders took her part in a well-fought
snow-battle, neither giving nor receiving quarter.
My opinion is that she will govern her people all the better
one day for having made herself one with them even upon so
small an occasion as this. Margaret Blathwayt.




SATE on Chriistmas Eve the
Sdog and the cat sat together
S '" ,. on the piece of rag-carpet be-
f ore the kitchen stove. The
dcog's name was Lad and the
cat's name was Lass. They
both belonged to the little
girl that lived in the house.
Her ,name was Mira.
The whole family had gone
to bed. And the dog and the
cat would have gone to bed
too if they had not had some-
thing to talk about. That
something was Mira and
Mira's stocking which hung
by the chimney. They talked together very earnestly.
"She is the dearest little girl I ever saw," said the
S dog, "she never pulls a dog's tail as some children do."
"And she never takes a cat up and holds her upside
down as' some careless children do," said the cat.
"She always sees that my water-bowl's full," said Lad.
"And my milk-saucer," said Lass.
"We ought certainly to put something in her stocking," said
Lad. "Now what shall it be?"
"Ah! that's the question," replied Lass. Then she put her paw
to her forehead and thought a little while. And Lad put his

7 WV


1, P

,, 'T-L-~P


paw to his forehead and thought a little while also. "I know
what I'll give her," he said at last. "I'll give her that fine
bone the cook gave me yesterday. I hid it in the closet behind
the flour-barrel." So Lad got up and went into the kitchen-closet
and brought out the bone. He looked at it a moment longingly,
then stood up on his hind legs and dropped it into the stocking.
Then the cat got up, walked over to a little hole in the wall
in one corner of the room, and sat down before it. "Don't you
move," she whispered to the dog. Lad didn't move and Lass
sat there for five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, and then out popped
a little mouse. It was his last pop, for Lass caught him in a
moment. Then she carried him over to the stocking, stood up
on her hind legs and dropped him in.
"That's a fine fat fellow," she said.
"Yes, and that's a lovely bone," said Lad.
"But I'm not sure that Mira will like it," the cat went on,
"for now that I think of it I never saw her eat mice."
"Well, I've seen her gnaw at a bone," said Lad, "though not
exactly that kind of a bone."
"No, indeed," declared Lass, "the bones she gnawed weren't
anything like as big, and they had meat on them."
"You're right," said Lad. "And as for mice, don't you remember
how she screamed the other day when she saw one by the cake-box ?"
Why, yes; certainly I do," replied Lass. "And of course she
can't like them if she's afraid of them."
"And I don't believe she'd care for that bone, either," said Lad.
Then he put his paw to his forehead and thought awhile. And
the cat put her paw to her forehead and thought awhile also. And
when they were done thinking they both said together, "Let's
take them out." So Lad tugged at the stocking until down it
came and out tumbled the bone and the mouse.


When Santa Claus came about an hour afterwards there was
no bone and no mouse to be seen, and the cat and dog were
fast asleep on the piece of rag-carpet with Mira's stocking lying
beside them. But he hung the stocking up on the nail and stuffed it
from top to toe with the nicest of things. Margaret Eytinge.


This is the way the girls
and women who live in the
Vale of Cashmere dress their
hair. This Vale of Cashmere
is in India, and is the place
from which the pretty Cash-
mere shawls come. Very
pretty silver jewelry is made
There, too.
But the girls are too poor
Sto wear either the pretty
shawls or pretty jewelry, so
they take this way of adorn-
ing themselves. They braid
their hair in long plaits.
If they have not enough
S" hair to make the plaits long,
they piece them out with bits
of braided tow or strings and
sometimes with false hair.

.. i,


Winter has comel!
('hn itman is here !
The hal:,Fiest time
In All tle glad year!
Ring tIhe j:-y bells!
Everything tells
Christmas is here!
Children at play
Merry and gay -
Laughing, they say,
Winter has come!
Christmas is here!
The happiest time
in all the glad year


; j

' .-- *



This is not our Am-
erican Robin Red- ( :----
breast. This is the -
English Robin Red- (
breast. This is the .
Robin. Red-breast of
the nursery stories, Who Killed Cock-Robin ? and The Babes in
the Woods." You remember how when the two little children were
The robins so red
Brought strawberry leaves
And over them spread."

And it was this kind of robin that brought the strawberry-leaves.
This robin has blue feathers on his back, and is only about
half as large as our American robin. His breast is a bright red.
He has a sweet and pleasant song.
The English Robin Red-breast sings in the winter. And when
the people hear him about their houses in the autumn, they say,
"Ah, winter is coming; there's Robin Red-breast." A.



In a country-of Europe, called Switzerland, a great many peo-
ple earn their living by wood-carving. They do not use a scroll-
saw, as we do, in this country; they carve the most beautiful
things with only a jack-knife.
Among the many pretty things made by them, none are prettier
than the cuckoo clocks. I have one in my sitting-room, which I
will try to describe to you.
It does not stand on a shelf like an ordinary clock, nor on
the floor like a tall old-fashioned clock; it hangs on a large
nail. The case is made of brown wood, and it is prettily carved
so as to look like the porch of a church.
The dial is of lighter colored wood, the figures are of white
wood, and the hands long, slender, and beautifully carved are
still of another kind of wood of a whitish color.
If you have ever looked inside of a common clock you have
noticed two lumps of lead or iron, one at each side. These are
the weights. But the weights of the Swiss clock are not inside
of the case. They hang down below it, and that is the reason
why the clock cannot rest on the shelf, but must be hung on
the wall, seven or eight feet from the floor.
The weights are of cast-iron, made to look like large pine
cones and bronzed. They are hung on long gilt chains and are
very pretty. They are not wound from a reel as the weights of
the common clock are; they slip down and down until they touch
the floor. Then they must be drawn up close to the bottom of
the case and begin again.
But why is it called a cuckoo clock ? you ask. I will tell you.


In the upper part of the pointed arch in front, just above the
dial-plate, there is a small door. When the clock is ready to
strike the hour, this door flies open, a
little bird comes out, makes a bow, and
J-, '.ulls "Cuckoo! It calls just as many
l. times as the clock strikes.
S. If it is one o'clock it calls "cuckoo "
once. If it is two o'clock it calls twice
I-- "cuckoo! cuckoo! and so on-
,i' -. II \- \ When it has finished calling the
I' < \ hour it draws back and the doer
Shuts at once.
':' i!! A little girl who often comes
to visit me, when she first heard
the cuckoo call, thought it was
a live bird, and that the clock was its cage,
and she asked me what I gave it to eat. She
could not imagine how it could come out and
sing unless it were alive.
But it is only a wooden bird, carved by a
Swiss peasant, and made to move and speak by
the machinery that makes the clock go.
The real cuckoo lives in England as well as
in Switzerland.
In April the little English children begin to
watch for his coming, and are so eager to hear his call cuck-oo !"
they can hardly wait.
They watch and watch, and by and by some fine morning they
hear it call "cuck-oo, cuck-oo!" They love it better than the
skylark, or nightingale.
A good many verses have been written about the cuckoo, and


here is the very oldest one in the English tongue. It was
written a great many years ago.
Summer is a-coming in,
Loud sings cuckoo:
Growth seed and bloweth mead,
And springeth the weed new."
Isabella MeFarlane.




I'm a little English maiden, and I send my wishes true,
To far-away America, across the ocean blue;
A merry Christmas, dear, to you--to you, and you, and you.



1 Afr~




,[i lrom the curtain's folds ?
S.It crawls, what is it?
Why, a last year's house-fly
Come- to visit.
He says, with a buzz
iiAnd a drowsy motion,
I have come, because-
I took a notion."

he children find him,
And as they watch him,
Cry to each. other,
"Catch him, catch himl"
And old Puss, too,
Can-see and hear him,
And she creeps up softly|
_ WTo get near him.

'ear little house-fly,
Hurry, hurry,
SPuss ihas claws
I, If her paws are furry!
SAnd if you dare
On the pane to linger,
You might be crushed
By the Baby's finger!

he sn is pale
A-n'd the winds are very,
Oh! very bitter bb
In February.
And since cat aid baby
Are so uncertain,
SYou'd better creep back
Into your curtain. .
-Clara Doty Bates.




They aire small and close-sheathed
Buds at first,
But full and fair
When their buds are burst,
Christ-flowers, named
For the Baby born
In a manger, that far-gone
Blessed morn.

Their leaves of a dusty
Silver are,
And the white ones are
As Bethlehem's star.
Lasting and pure,
They are fit to lay
In the sacredest places


Because they are given
Their sweet name
For the holiest Child
That ever came
To earth, when the day
Of His birth is here,
They should have their part
In the children's cheer.
Clara Doty Bates.

,~, !ajv!r :









"Oh! how heavy this bucket is,
and only half-full, too, so I must
go again. Jenny and Annie can't
do anything, it's only poor me. I
wish we could take turns being the
Oldest. Joe's crying; seems to me
he's always crying and making
his face dirty. Wish we had a
brother so small we couldn't be
trusted with him, or big enough
to bring water. I don't like boys
his age. 'Nettie, Nettie,' wish my
Same was something else. 'Yes,
/ mother,'" answered Nettie, setting
down the bucket and brightening
Sa little at her mother's cheery voice.
"tl Four children, indeed, were a
great care, but the little hands could
help too. Now Nettie saw how
much good even half a bucket of
water could do.
Mother filled a kettle and set it
NETTIE. ver the bright fire where it soon
began to sing as if eager to do
something for the family. Jenny gave Dick, the bird, fresh water
which he sipped with funny little quirks of head and tail, and
then burst into such a song that Joe forgot to cry. Annie brought


him a drink and washed his tear-stained face. She sprinkled the
rose geranium in the window. Then the sun shone into the clean
kitchen and all Nettie's dark thoughts flew away.
She laid the table for breakfast, and fed Kitty who was purring
for milk.
But she stopped at Joe's cradle to give him a kiss and hug,
and tell him he was the dearest baby in the world if he did -ry,
Mother smiled and called her a little helper and her dear Nella.
And Nellie thought it just the sweetest name in the world.
Louis Hall.


Here are we four jolly young boys, capering up and dowi,
Hoppity-skip! hoppity-skip! the happiest boys in town.
We've ate our turkey and pudding, our faces and hands are ulkn,
Then tell me, I pray you, 0, where can happier boys be seen?
Pamela McArthur Cole.




P'r'aps you think it's my dolly that I've got cuddled up in
my arms, but it isn't. It's my little sister--my dear little baby
sister Helen.
Once when I was a little girl, ever and ever so long ago -
I'm a big girl now; I'm five, going on six but when I was
a little girl I didn't have any sister, and I was so lonesome I
didn't know what to do. But when God sent little Helen to
our house, then I was so glad I didn't know what to do. I
just jumped up and down and clapped my hands and laughed.
You don't know how nice she is. She has three teeth that
look just like little white kernels of pop-corn. And she has the
cunningest toes, and the softest, pinkiest little bits of fingers that
just begin to take hold of things. The other day she pulled my
hair with them, and it did hurt, but I didn't cry a bit, because,
you see, she is so little she doesn't know any better.
Papa says she is a jolly baby, because she laughs so much;
and mamma says there isn't a sweeter baby in the world, and
mamma knows, because she's a grown-up lady, and she has seen
lots of babies, and she knows 'most everything.
By and by Helen will be so big she can walk, if I take hold
of her hand; and then she will learn to talk. She can talk
now, only no one but mamma knows what she says, because the
rest of us haven't learned her language yet.
I've got to be a very good girl now, because mamma says
Baby will want to do just as I do. If I get angry, then she
will think she must, too. If I don't mind papa and mamma,
she will think she needn't. And if I say bad words, she will


be sure to say them after me. So you see I must do my very best.
And I'm trying to be a good girl all the time now, for I
wouldn't have my dear little sister be naughty for anything.
Helen's Sister Ruth.


This is the Hellebore. It blossoms out of doors in the winter in
England, and is called the Christmas Rose. The blossom is of a pure
white and is very delicate and pretty.
The yellow jasmine blossoms out of doors too at Christmas time,

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and sometimes if the season is warm the primroses are in bloom.
Christmas is a merry time in England and we got some of


our pretty Christmas customs from there. But the fashion of
the Christmas Tree came from Germany.
Christmas is a happy, happy time, as it should be, for it is
the day on which we celebrate the birth of the Holy Child of


' ( .
L. I. i

In coaches made of leather
They go in crowds together,
They every one wear party white
Although they come in broad daylight
Nor stop for wind or weather.

We cannot do without them
Although we sometimes doubt them;
And if you don't know what are these
Just ask the postman, if you please,
For he knows all about them.
M. J. H.




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"You must come and make me a visit next winter, my dear,"
said Mrs. Marshall to Patty. And here was Patty come all the
way from Northern Vermont, to visit Mrs. Marshall in Boston.
Mrs. Marshall gave Patty a New Year's party. She not only
gave a party for her, but she gave ter a dress to wear at the party.
"It's just like Cinderella," said Patty, when the maid was
dressing her. It quite took, her breath away when she saw the
pretty white silk, the necklace and locket, the dainty black stock-
ings and shoes, the fan and gloves. Simple muslin frocks in
summer, and warm woollen ones for winter, Patty had always worn.
And as to a party! Why, Patty had gone to afternoon tea-
parties of course, where each little girl carried her doll! But a
children's evening party, just like a grown-up people's party!
No, she never went to one in her life before. Nine o'clock
always finds her safe in bed when at home.
Perhaps you think Patty must have fplt very strange and awk-
ward, while receiving so many stranger guests. But no! Patty
is never awkward. Her mother has taught her one thing. And
any boy or girl who thoroughly learns that one thing, can
never be awkward. It is this:
Try to make everybody you meet happy.
Because if you try to make everybody happy, you will forget
all about yourself, and so you cannot be awkward.
With the young guests, came an older sister or the mother.
One of them said to Mrs. Marshall, Where did the child get
her graceful manners ?"


"If you knew her mother you would not ask," replied Mrs.
By and by after everybody had come, Patty stole away just
to be by herself, and think about it all, for a few moments.
Harry Marshall espied her as she sat half hidden by a door
curtain. He beckoned to Jack Morton to come and look.
"She's a jolly girl," said Jack. They have no end of fun
ap there where she lives, toboganing and skating. She told me all
about it."
"And she talks French and reads Latin too!" replied Harry,
proud of his mother's guest.
"Is that so?" said Jack, "and such a pretty girl too!" as if.
one couldn't talk French and read Latin and be pretty too!
"Yes," said Harry, "her father is a clergyman and teaches Patty,
and she says she's going to study Greek," and Jack who "hates"
Greek, groaned to think of it.
And all the time Patty was thinking, "It is lovely here, and
Mrs. Marshall is ever so kind, and if mamma and papa were
only here, it would be just perfect! "
She never saw the boys till Tack giggled. Then she jumped up
and went back with them to her other guests.

She comes in velvet and in gold,
A dainty, silent little lady;
..7 Her gauzy wings like laces old,
S. ':- -- A fairy's maid-of-honor may be?


They were lost in the snow with their master. The snow was
so deep he could go no further, and sank down, quite tired out.
The day passed and he could not go on, and no help came,
and by and by he died.
But the dogs would not
leave him. They sat
by him, and licked his
cold face and hands,
trying to rouse him.
Nobody knows how
long they staid there. -
But one day some men
found them. They saw
them a little way off
and called them. The
dogs could hardly crawl,
they were so lean and
weak, for all this time
they had had nothing
to eat. They would not
leave their master to
But when the men gave them meat, did these starving dogs
eat it? No; they took it in their mouths, and laid it beside
their dead master, thinking, I suppose, that then he would open
his eyes and speak to them. 11.




His name is Tony, and he is a little tramp-dog.
Once he belonged to a boy named Ted. There were three
other dogs in the same family, and all bigger than Tony.
The big dogs wore collars, and chased rabbits all day, and
quails. But Tony staid at home with Ted.
Tony did not have a good time. Ted "trained" him too
much. Ted's sister "trained" him too. Once he put his nose
down to Topsy's nose Topsy was Nell's cat. Topsy lifted a
fore-paw mnd scratched him, and spit in his eyes. Nell. said,
"Ted, your d is so cross!" and then Ted boxed his ears.
After that Tony thought he would not play with cats anymore.
He would play with playthings. So he played with one of Ted's
Sunday shoes. When he was tired he buried it in the sand,
where he could find it again. He buried all his things in the
sand. Tony was a very tidy dog.
One day he buried Nell's hat in the sand. But he left a pink
ribbon sticking up. So they found the hat, and found the shoe,
too, and a rubber doll, and a jewel-box. Then Tony was whipped.
Tony noticed that the big dogs were never whipped. He
thought it was because they caught rabbits and birds.
He knew where there were rabbits and birds. So one day
when the big dogs came home there sat Tony with his game:
Nell's pet rabbits, and the old rooster.
How the big dogs looked at Tony! How Nell looked at him,
and Ted and Ted's father! They gave Tony away, and Tony
ran off, and became a tramp-dog.


I 2
A *


1.1 '





My dog Toss can ride horseback! And wouldn't you like to
see him sitting up on our little white horse, with the reins in
his mouth ? Of course he can't talk to the horse and tell him
when to go, so I walk ahead with some oats, and the horse
follows me all about the field. In this way, you see, Toss gets
a fine ride.
My name is Wesley White; I live in the country, and as I
don't have any one to play with, I have taught Toss, until he
is as good as a boy for a playmate. He loves to play ball as
well as boys do. When I pitch the ball he never fails to catch
it in his mouth, then brings it to me; sometimes grandmother
will come out with her broom and be bat'sman. If grandmother
don't hit the ball Toss is sure to catch it. When grandmother
strikes the ball and sends it flying over the ground Toss rushes
after it, and seizes it on the bound. Isn't this a queer ball club?
Grandmother for bat'sman, a dog for catcher and fielder, and my-
self for pitcher.
"There's something else Toss can do, that I don't believe any
other dog was ever known to do. Going a-fishing seems a very
strange sport for a dog, but that's what Toss does. When I
wish to go fishing, I ask Toss if he would like to go have a boat
ride with me --d catch a fish. He barks, and that means Yes.
After digging worms for bait, I give him the basket we use to
bring home the fish in, and away we run for the pond. Deep
water is reached after rowing a little way. Here I throw out
my line and give Toss one too. He holds the stick to which the
line is fastened, just as quietly, until the fish commence to nib-


ble the bait, then he gives a growl, a little easy one at first,
but when a big fish seizes the line and tries to run away with
it, such a noise as that dog makes! I say 'Hold on tight, Toss,
and I will help you when I have fastened my rod.' Then I take

.... --- i. -


his rod, and pull in the fish. You would laugh to see how proud
that dog is! I can't tell you which goes the faster, the flopping
fish or Toss' tail.
"Besides being so good a playfellow, Toss can make himself
useful by going after the cows all alone. When one is lost from
sight by the fog, all I have to say is, 'go and find her,' then
point toward the pasture. Away he scampers, and never returns
without bringing the stray cow." Albert S. Cox.



The kittens lost their
mother when they were two
weeks old. We fed them
with milk from a bottle
with a rubber tube, just as
babies are fed.
At night they slept in
a big flower-pot before the
kitchen fire. We filled the
flower-pot half full of hay
and put the kittens on it.
Then we covered the flower-
pot all over with a big towel.
We did this so Lion should
not find them. For Lion
slept in the kitchen, too, and
we were afraid if he found
GOOD OLD LION AND ONE OF THE KITTENS. them he might hurt them.

But one night, I suppose they woke up and cried because they
had no mother, and Lion heard them and pitied them, and took
them out. For the next morning we found them lying, cuddled
close to him on his rug. And he had lapped them with his big
tongue till they looked as though they had been dipped in water
and were half-drowned.
From that time he took care of them and they slept with him
until they were grown up. And here he is with one of the kittens.
We gave away the other one. John Halifax.


I t.;'~


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-p'y ..




B? UEENIE went to a garden party
on May-day.. Queenie's home is
in New England; but this May-
day she was in Alabama. Mam-
ma was not well, and Queenie
was just getting up from the
Measles, so papa had sent them
a-i i, '' away from the Boston east
SA. winds.
Si i "" The little Southern girls chose
7'7 (-i Q"i.,l.iie for their May queen, and crowned
her with flowers. They sang and danced
around a Maypole. Garlands of flowers were
hung on the Maypole. The day was sunny
and sweet. The pretty China trees were in bloom,
and so were the magnolias, and Cape jessamines.
The trees were full of birds; blue birds, yellow birds, green
birds, and red birds. The mocking birds sang, and Queenie
thought she had never known such a lovely May-day. May-day
in New England is almost always chilly.
Aunt Joanna had written that she was going to have a May-
day party too, and would write Queenie all about it. Aunt Joanna
lives in Boston, at the West End. She and Queenie are dear and
intimate friends.
So one morning as mamma was walking in the garden, Queenie
came flying down the path.

:M .l






0 mamma! she said, auntie's letter has come. Please come
quick and read it. I am so impatient! And here is the letter:

The party was a great success, and was splendid! You remem-
ber Joe Snelling, of course. He is in my Sunday-school class.
Well, the first thing I did was to go down and find Joe one
day. I found him in an old tumble-down house near one of
the wharfs.
His mother was out washing, and Joe was taking care of the
children. He came to the door, and the children came to the
door. Such a roly-poly little brother as Joe has got! He's as
broad as he is long!
"Now, Joe," said I, "I'm going to have a May-day party, and
I want you to invite the guests. Do you know twenty boys
who would like to have a good time ?"
"I guess I do," said Joe, "plenty of 'em."
"Mind, now," I said, "I want boys that-aren't used to having
a good time. I don't care how ragged they are."
And Joe said he'd see to it right away as soon as his mother
got home from washing. The next day Joe came, and said he'd
invited the boys.
"Some of 'em are newsboys, and all of 'em works for a livin',"
said Joe, "and they can't come early."
So I said eight o'clock, and we got a room for the party; the
Mission lent us one. At eight o'clock there they all were, and
ragged enough too! But each one of them had washed his face
till it shone, and their hands were clean. Their hair, to be sure,
was not nice, but then I do not suppose many of them own
combs. Some of them wore shoes and stockings. Others wore


shoes and no stockings, and a few had neither shoes nor stockings.
But it almost seemed that the raggeder they were, the merrier
they were. How their eyes shone!
We had supper the first thing, because I knew they were hun.
gry. Susie and Katy waited upon them. We had plenty of hot,
sweet coffee, and well-buttered rolls, and cold chicken, and tongue.
Then we had frosted pound cakes. Uncle Ned said they ought to
have ice-cream, and so he sent in a great, sparkling, pink-and-
white pyramid of it. How those boys did cheer when they saw
After supper Blitz came in. He is a great friend of mine, you
know; and he said he would" do something to amuse the boys.
So he gave some of his very prettiest tricks.
He had a flower-pot filled with earth. He held up a seed.
"Now, boys," said he, "do you see this seed? It is a pome-
granate seed. I am going to plant it, and you shall see it
So he planted the pomegranate seed in the pot, and then cov-
ered it with a box. In a moment he took off the box, and there
sure enough, the seed had sprouted, and we saw two tiny green
He covered the pot again. When he uncovered it the second
time, we saw that the pomegranate had grown six inches, and was
covered with leaves. He covered it again, and again he took off
the box. This time the little tree was a-bloom with flowers!
How the boys did stare!
The last time he took off the box the tree was loaded with
its crimson fruit! Was not that a pretty trick? The boys cheered
and cheered again. We let them cheer all they wanted too.
After Blitz got through, we asked if some of the boys couldn't


do something. And Joe spoke up and said Whistler could. He'd
brought his violin, and it seems he never went anywhere without it.
Whistler proved to be the very raggedest boy in the lot.
His trousers were torn, and his shirt was torn awfully, and he
was barefooted. But how he did play! He played Sweet By and
By," and Araby's Daughter," and bits from Pinafore," and we
didn't know whether to laugh or cry, it was all so beautiful.
So we cried first, and laughed after-
wards.. Uncle Ned wiped his eyes, and
I wiped mine, and Susie and Katy
wiped theirs on their aprons. And
then we found out that Whistler's real
n tme is Charles Warren; and he has
no father, or mother, or brother, or
sister, or grandfather, or grandmother,
and he lived in a corner of a room,
where ten other people live.
He had a mother once, of course,
and she used to call him Charley."
Uncle Ned was so pleased with Whistler
and his music, that he asked him if he
wouldn't like to be his boy, and be
called Charley once more.
And the very next day he went down
to the North End, and brought Whistler
- now Charley home, and you
wouldn't know him if you should see
He has got just the nattiest, prettiest navy-blue suit of clothes,
with knickerbockers, and scarlet stockings, and cap with a scarlet

-I-~:~"; ~-~--.e;.
p~-,~ .. -

:C' ~~
;i r

Ir ~*.
-41; :t i


band, and very pretty it is with his soft black eyes and black
He brought his violin, of course, and I can hear him playing
"Home, sweet home," this 'very minute up-stairs. He has the
little room with the balcony, next to uncle Ned's, for his own.
Now what do you think of my May-day party?
Your dearest of aunties, JOANNA.


N Wednesday Rap is two years old, and he must
have a birthday party," said Willie's mamma.
A birthday party for Rap! Willie could
hardly believe his ears! Rap is a pretty little
cocker-spaniel. He has brown and white silky
hair. His long, graceful ears look as if they
had been done up in crimping pins. He has
soft brown eyes, and a perfect plume of a tail.
"Is it a truly party with invitations and refreshments and all?"
asked Willie.
"Yes," said mamma, and then she wrote the invitations.
"Master Rap Smart requests the pleasure of your company with
your mistress, on his birthday, Wednesday, June 8th, from 4 to 6
o'clock." This invitation was sent to Miss Flossy Barron, Snip's
mistress. Invitations were also sent to Duke Snelling, who lives in
West Park, and Tip O'Brien who lives at the Patch.


At first Willie thought he would not have Tip invited. He is
not a very well-bred dog. When you speak to him he tips over on
his back and sticks his four feet in the air. That is the reason he
is called Tip. But he is a good-natured dog, and an excellent
friend of Rap's.
Mordecai was invited.
He is a handsome cat
who lives in the attic. Go
to a dog's party! Not
he! He would not dare
even to show a whisker
there So his mistress,
Miss Nellie, sent his "re-
grets." The morning of
was up betimes, and leaped on Willie's bed and awakened him.
Many happy returns of the day, dear Rap," said Willie as he
patted his head.
Rap wore a blue satin necktie that day. It was a birthday
gift from Willie's mamma. It was very becoming.
Tip arrived first. Then came Duke. He is a fine large mastiff.
He wore a cardinal bow on his collar. He laid down and crossed
his paws. He looked quite like a lion.
Snip sat by his mistress. He is an English dog. Flossy brought
him all the way from England. Her grandmamma lives in England.
She had a great time getting him from Chester to Liverpool.
She was travelling alone to meet her mamma. Every time the
guard looked into the railway carriage Snip showed his teeth and
growled at him.
Flossy was afraid the guard would be angry and take Snip out.
But he didn't.


(The conductor of the railway train in England is called the guard.)
Rap shook hands with all the mistresses and touched noses with
all the dogs. Then they had the refreshments.
They had beefsteak, scrambled eggs, crackers, sponge cake, nuts,'
candy and pop corn.
Mordecai sat on the attic stairs and sniffed the beefsteak. He
wanted some. But there wasn't a bit left. So Miss Nellie brought
him some real cream.
After refreshments they went out on the lawn. Rap entertained
his guests by showing them what he could do. Willie threw a. ball
across the lawn and Rap found it and brought it back He tossed
the ball in the air and caught it. Then he leaped over the gate,
"Now see Duke!" said his mistress. Duke sat up. She put a
chocolate cream on his nose.
"One two three! she counted. Then Duke tossed the cream
into the air and caught it as it fell. He ate it and wagged his
tail for more.
Then Snip sat up on his hind legs and sang Hail Columbia."
At least Flossy said it was Hail Columbia." Perhaps he would
have sung it better if he were an American dog.
But how funny it did sound Everybody laughed till they cried.
Everybody but Mordecai. He was sitting on a shed roof near by.
He was watching the dogs. He arched his back and every hair
stood on end, he was so frightened.
But Snip sang very gravely. How his eyes twinkled! He liked
the fun.
Everybody said the party was a great success. Miss Flossy says
she shall have one on Snip's birthday. It comes the Fourth of
July. That will be a good day to sing "Hail Columbia."

., 7.







Rosamond's father was a blacksmith, and worked
S^ all day at the forge, hammering out steel and iron
Horseshoes for the horses and donkeys. Rosanond
liked to stay at the smithy with her father, and
S- watch the sparks which flew from the iron as he
ROSAMOND. brought his heavy hammer down upon the anvil.
She had never been to school; but one day her father said,
"Wife, I think our little girl should go to school. We shall miss
her, but I think we shall have to send her, for she is now seven
years old."
So her mother bought her a little red-and-white basket in which
to carry her dinner, for the distance was so great she could not
come home at noon.
The next morning she led her little girl to the schoolhouse
herself, and said to the teacher, "I have brought you a little new
And the teacher kissed Rosamond and said she thought they
should get on very nicely together. And so they did.
Everything went nicely for two or three weeks. Rosamond
liked her school even better than the blacksmith's shop. Every
morning she took her little red-and-white basket, and trudged
along through the woods to the schoolhouse, and every morning
her dear old doggie, Sam, went with her as far as the school-
house door, and then ran home to take care of the house and
One night Rosamond did not come at the usual time. Her
father was alarmed, and started to look for her, taking Sam with


him. They went quite a long way toward the schoolhouse
through the woods. They saw nothing of her. But as they came
to a little path leading to the left Sam would go no farther.
He stood looking that way, barking as loudly as he could--
"bow-wow-wow." He seemed to say, "Come this way, come this
way !"
The father did not know what to make of it, as he had never
seen Sam act so before. But he thought he would walk that way
and see what it meant.
They went on and on,
for a long way, Sam
smelling sharply all along
the path. All at once he
sprang ahead of his mas-
ter with a loud "bow- '
wow," which seemed to
say "found her," and .

was his little girl, fast
asleep among the fallen
leaves and acorns. Sam
sprang at her and kissed --
her awake, and she
rubbed her eyes in sur-
prise to find herself there. FND HI1ERA!
Her father took her in his arms and carried her home, for she
had lost her way, and was very tired. And if it had not been
for Sam I do not know as he ever would have found her.


Rosamond never took that way again to go to school, but kept
straight along the well-beaten road, although it was farther than
the way through the wood. E. B. H.


Three little eggs in a nest in May,
Three little birds in June are at play -
Then comes July and they all fly away.




-C ;




SMonk died in New
York on Sunday, De-
cember 19, 1880. The
newspapers told his
name, and how old he
was, and how he died,
just as if he had been
a person of note.
S They told all this be-
cause Monk had been
noble and useful. Peo-
ple like to read about
noble dogs almost as well
as about noble men.
A SAINT BERNARD DOG. Monk was a Saint Ber-
nard dog. He had rough, shaggy hair, of a yellowish-brown color,
and looked something like a lion.
Monk was six feet and nine inches long, from the tip of his
nose to the tip of his tail. Six feet make two yards. Nine
inches make one quarter of a yard. So Monk was two and a
quarter yards long; and it was thirty-four inches from his shoul-
der to the ground. Now you see what a splendid dog Monk
must have been!
But though Monk was so long and strong, he was very gentle.
He loved to play with children. He had beautiful kind-looking
hazel eyes.
Monk's master bought him from the monks of St. Gothard.


He paid five hundred dollars for him. When Monk was two
years old, his master thought that he was worth one thousand
dollars. Monk had saved many lives on the Alps.
The monks of St. Gothard live in a large house on a high
mountain. There are dreadful snowstorms on this high mountain.
Sometimes travelers get so cold that they cannot walk. They fall
and would freeze to death if no one came to help them. Some-
times a great mass of snow slides down from the top of the
mountain an avalanche
- and the travelers are
buried under it.
Then the Saint Bernard
dogs are sent out to find
the travelers. Each dog
has a flask of wine and
some food slung around
his neck. If the traveler
is able, he takes some food
and wine, and the monks
come with their lanterns
and help him to their
house. This house is a
convent. The monks and
their dogs save the lives
of a great many people
every year.
Monk was a learned dog.
He could understand
French, German and Eng-
lish. He may not have known all the words, but he understood wheu
he was told to do things in any of these languages. K. L. W.



OW, don't mope. Have a good
time and do what you like," said
uncle Alex and then he dreve off in
the rain.
How it did rain! It poured
down upon the roofs, and dashed
against the windows. The water
stood in pools on the walks and
driveway. And it was the Fourth

Dave and Marjory had expected to eat ice-cream under the
trees. They had expected to play lawn tennis, and shoot at a
target. They had expected to let off a bushel of firecrackers.
The flag had been run up the flag staff and it hung just like
a perfect rag, so wet was it. What a miserable, miserable Fourth
of July!
"Mean old thing! spoke Dave, "to be sick the Fourth of
July and spoil all our fun. We could stand the rain if uncle
Alex were here to play with us."
0 Dave," replied Marjory, "it isn't at all likely she fell sick
on purpose."
Uncle Alex was a doctor, and had been called to old Mrs.
Van Norman, a very rich old lady who lived about twelve miles
Well, nobody's any business to be sick Fourth of July anyway,"
said Dave, and then he went in- and slammed the door. He felt



better after he had done that. When we are vexed, you know,
it often makes us feel better to slam a door!
They wandered through the house in search of something to
do. It was a big house with a great number of rooms. They
looked into the kitchen, but cook was cross, so they did not
venture in. She was in the thick of dinner, and was having
trouble with the ice-cream.
They went through the parlors. How dismal they were with
the rain beating on the windows, and uncle Alex away.
They came to the library. This was uncle Alex's own room.
The tall bookcases were full of his books. Many curious and rare
things were scattered about the rooms. Uncle Alex had travelled
over the world and brought home these curious things.
There was a suit of armor in one corner by the window; a
suit of armor that somebody had worn three hundred years ago.
It looked just as if there might be a man inside of it now!
"0, Marjory," said Dave, "didn't uncle Alex say we might do
what we liked? What a splendid target that window would make! "
and he pointed his pistol towards the great window of stained
"Dave! Dave!" cried Marjory in great fright. "What are
you thinking of ?"
"That's just what uncle Alex said himself to Mr. Prince the
other day. I heard him. 'It's good for nothing but a target,'
he said. 'If it were out of the way I'd have La Farge put in
a decent one. It's a wretched daub.' That's just what he said.
He won't care. We'll play it's Revolutionary, you know. Hers
Crash! went the pistol through the glass.
There, I've shot Arnold in the foot. Now for Burgoyne J "


Crash! went the pistol again. "He's a goner.
Crash! crash! went the pistol a third time!
"That's Yorktown, and the whole British army is gone to
smash! "
Just then the cook, and Susy the chambermaid, and the man
Michael, all came tumbling through the library door together.
They were quite frightened out of their wits by the noise.
"And what are ye doin', Master Dave?" said Michael, seizing
Dave's arm. "What will the master say?"
Oh, he won't care," said Dave.
"Niver did I see the likes o' that boy," said Susy, and the
cook groaned.
"It's set me heart to palpitatin' that fast it'll be spilin' the
dinner I will, entirely," she said.
When uncle Alex came home Dave told him what he had
done, and uncle Alex didn't care much about the window.
But he said rather gravely, "It is not safe to use a pistol in
that way, Dave, and I think I had better take care of it for the
And then he locked it up.



Frieda's home was in the bend of the elbow of old Cape Ood.
It was a queer little bird's nest of a home, perched on the sum-
mit of a steep hill overlooking a brook. The brook made music
around a gray old mill shaded by willows, and then slipped away,
down between the hills and through the marshes to the sea. It
was a charming playfellow for little Frieda, for the water was
seldom deep, and she loved to wade about in it and see the bright
ripples dance over her bare feet, to sail bits of wood for boats,
and to make paper fishes and set them swimming.
It was a wonder she ever got safely down the hill to the brook,
alone, for it was so steep. Her father, the miller, whose name was
Jacob, called it Jacob's Ladder; but she scrambled about in a
sturdy, fearless fashion, and if she now and then had a tumble,
it hurt her no more than if she were a soft ball of a kitten.
Frieda was always glad to have the brook for a playmate, but
on days when the farmers kept coming with corn to be ground,
when the open doorway of the old mill was white with floating
meal, and her father was too busy to have any care of her, the
mother did not allow her to go down the hill alone. On such
days, Frieda would run out in the field or the sunny bit of gar-
den south of the house, and pick a handful of flowers. These she
would carry to the clump of lilac bushes beside the front doorstep,
and nothing would be heard or seen of her again till dinner.
The lilacs had been cut away a little, underneath, making a
natural arbor, and this was Frieda's playhouse. I have seen many
playhouses, and some that were truly magnificent, but I never saw
one so charming as Frieda's, or one in which the little owner


took more pride and pleasure. She had carpets of moss, gray
and velvety green, and beds of thick warm mullein leaves. She
used toadstools for tables, red and orange and brown, horsechest-
nut burrs, with their soft white linings, for easy chairs, acorn
cups and tiny seashells for dishes, and berries, sliced toadstools
and little green "cheeses" from the mallows, for food.
Then, instead of dolls, there were flowers; dandelions, violets,
buttercups, clover, or pretty white daisies; sometimes roses, sweet
peas and pansies from the garden; again, golden-rod and asters
from the fields. All the year round, while there was a green
thing growing, the little housemother had her "flower children."
It was pretty to see Baby Wild Rose Bud put to sleep in
a milkweed-pod cradle with a water-lily petal for blanket; or
little Lady Nasturtium, bonnie Sweet Pea and Field Daisy drink-
ing tea together at one of the toadstool tables; or dark-eyed
Pansy, drooping a little, and so riding out in a crumpled oak-leaf
carriage for her health. And little Field Daisy, Sweet Pea and
the rest were so sweet and good that they helped Frieda to be
sweet and good also.
One day the little girl had been fretting over her bread and
milk breakfast, and ran away to hide under the lilacs because her
mother wished to brush her hair. But in a few minutes she came
running back, with a smile in place of the naughty pouting
lips, and said, "I am here, mamma. My flower children didn't
like me when I was cross." She had mother's kiss for answer,
the tangled curls were smoothed, and the child ran away to her
play again.
Dear little Frieda, she had a happy childhood on and about
the steep Jacob's Ladder, although her father was a poor man,
and could not buy toys for his little daughter.
Cara A. Dugan.



dear me! What shall I ever do?
The lamp's gone out,
The string's in a knot;
I can't untie my shoe!

"Oh, dear me !
shall I do?
I hav'n't a thing
To cut the string,
I can't get off my shoe!

What in the world

"Oh, dear me! I want a knife, or a light!
If only I dared,
And nobody cared,
I'd wear my shoe all night!"
H. R. Hudson.


*~ 3.-~





i----- .-~




--- Toby and I used to live on a
California ranch with two little
S- sisters, and then we had good
times. We liked to carry them
round because they always gave
us biscuit and apples when they
went to ride. It was unlucky
for us that they ever grew lar-
ger and were sent to school.
Their papa sold us to a man
who travels over the mount-
ains and picks up bits of stone
that he knocks off the rocks.
He loads them on Toby's back
and ties them on with so many
r knots they would not come off
Sif he rolled down hill, for he
'LE TWO." tried it once.
We have to eat hay and thistles and even straw mats. One night
Toby chewed up the tail of a cow who was sleeping near us.
And look at the stirrups I carry. Not much like little Missy's.
It would be better if they were always empty. I am learning
to bray loud enough to throw him out of the saddle.
He walked one day and said my ears must be out of order
or the noise would make me nervous. But I hear a good deal.
I hear they have Donkey parties in cities, and perhaps we may
be invited. Louis Hall.




j; ;-i




Dolly, Polly and Molly were tired of three things: tired of
washing cups, of dusting and of setting the table. They resolved
to seek a country where it was all play and no work.
They went west. They took a path that led through a meadow
of golden cowslips, over a stile, across a stone bridge with a
round arch, till they came to a dark wood of whispering pines.
A narrow winding path led through this wood. The path grew
so dark as they went on they were at last obliged to take their
cats out of their baskets, in order that their eyes might light
the way. (I need not remind you that cats' eyes are very bright
in the dark.)
At last they came out into the sunniest, sweetest place possi-
ble. It was all shut in by the dark woods, and in the centre
stood a small house made of pink bricks, and thatched with pink
heather. A cage hung under the thatch containing a pink parrot
and great pink sunflowers clustered around it. In front stood a
row of three pink chairs.


They entered, and, wonder of wonders! the room was furnished
with three small tables, each standing on a pink rug. On each
table was a mug, a plate, a knife and fork, a spoon, a butter-
plate, a pitcher and a napkin. All these were pink. The napkins
had a white ground with pink drops and pink fringe. On the
wall hung three pictures, and in the window were three pink
and white flower-pots.
Beyond this room was a second, and in this were three small
beds, three washstands, three dressing-tables with mirrors, and
three hooks on the wall.
"This is the very place we are looking for," said Dolly. "It
was made for us three," and they
took off their bonnets and shawls,
hung them on the three hooks,
and then went out and sat down
in the three chairs. Each took
her cat.
As the sun came round the house
they moved into the shade of the
"Ho! ho! here they come!" shrieked the pink parrot. And
just at that moment they heard voices singing this song:

"Three jolly young farmers are we, ho! ho!
We plough and we plant and we hoe, ho! ho!
We go to bed early and we rise with the sun,
And we never think of stopping till our work is done.
Ho! ho! we're jolly, ho! ho!
It's great fun to work,
We never want to shirk,
We work all the day
A-making of the hay,
It's better fun than play.
With a ho! ho! ho! and a ho! ho! ho!
Three jolly young farmers are we, ho! ho!"


The voices sounded like those of little men, and pretty soon
the three girls saw them coming up the path singing as they
came. Each wore a smock frock and carried a pitchfork.
They stopped when they saw
the three girls and lifted their
"You are welcome, ladies,"
Ssaid Ted. "Will you be pleased
to enter our humble habitation ?"
said Ned. "And sup with us?"
added Jed, for these were their
"Oh! we've been in," replied Dolly. "And we're going to
stay," added Polly. We and our cats," said Molly. For we're
tired of work," they all said together.
Stay!" said Ned. "STAY! !" said Ted. "STAY! !!" said
Jed. "Certainly," all together. "We shall be pleased to have
you if you will do our housework. We are looking for house-
maids! "
At this Dolly, Molly and Polly arose in great wrath. "House-
work! that's just what we came to be rid of! housework, in-
deed! no, we'll return to our home
and our parents."
"That is the best thing you can do,
ladies," replied Ned and Ted and Jed.
So they picked up their cats, put on
their bonnets and shawls, and went back
through the dark woods and over the
bridge and the stile back to their home.OUSEORKNDEED!
"Housework, indeed!" said they from under their bonnets.
Frances A. Humphrey.

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