Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 The children's hour
 The rock of Carricklee
 Her first portrait
 Told by the swallows
 Zelda and the sunbeams
 The Princess Almond Blossom
 How we tolled the bell for Guy...
 From under the waves
 Filibuster's fall
 Back Matter
 Back Cover

Group Title: Father Tuck's "golden gift" series
Title: The children's hour
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00086487/00001
 Material Information
Title: The children's hour
Series Title: Father Tuck's "golden gift" series
Physical Description: 80 p., 8 leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 26 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Hoyer, M. A ( Maria A ) ( Author )
Chesson, Nora, 1871-1906 ( Author )
Guest, Antony ( Author )
Bennett, S. E ( Author )
Welby, Ellen ( Illustrator )
Brundage, Frances, 1854-1937 ( Illustrator )
Bowley, May ( Illustrator )
Vredenburg, Edric, b. 1860 ( Editor )
Raphael Tuck & Sons ( Publisher )
Publisher: Raphael Tuck & Sons
Place of Publication: London ;
Paris ;
New York
Publication Date: [1897?]
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 -- 1897   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1897   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1897
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
France -- Paris
United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: by M.A. Hoyer, Nora Hopper, Anthony Guest, S.E. Bennett, &c. &c. ; illustrated by Ellen Welby, Frances Brundage, M. Bowley, &c. &c. ; edited by Edric Vredenburg.
General Note: Date of publication from inscription.
Funding: Artistic series ;
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00086487
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223810
notis - ALG4063
oclc - 244482411

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Half Title
        Page 1
        Page 1a
    Title Page
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
    The children's hour
        Page 5
        Page 6
    The rock of Carricklee
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
    Her first portrait
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 16a
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
    Told by the swallows
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 26a
        Page 27
    Zelda and the sunbeams
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
    The Princess Almond Blossom
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 40a
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
    How we tolled the bell for Guy Fawkes
        Page 46
        Page 46a
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 56a
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 62a
        Page 63
        Page 64
    From under the waves
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
    Filibuster's fall
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 76a
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
    Back Matter
        Back Matter
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text
*. *


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The Children's Hour.

"Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupation,
That is known as the Children's Hour."

ONE afternoon, not very long ago, Uncle Peter sat himself
down in his arm-chair before the bright fire. His head
was full of thoughts, or, as his youngest niece would
have said, full of thinks," and everything was so quiet now
in the twilight, that it was just the time to make his plans
about some business he had on hand.
Now he had not been sitting there more than one minute
and three-quarters, when a peculiar pit-a-patter sort of noise,
and little squeaks and' whisperings, might have been heard
in the hall; then the door opened very quietly, and a round


curly head popped in, then another curly head popped in,
and another and another, and there were more little squeaks
and whisperings, as four pairs of bright eyes shone and
sparkled in' the dancing firelight. Then there came a mad
-rush and shrill cries of Story, Uncle Peter, story," and
Uncle Peter for the moment was so startled that he nearly
tumbled into the fire.
Really, children," he said, I'm so busy."
Mustn't be busy now," they all shouted, climbing up on
his knees, "this is our hour, Uncle; Papa always says so.
This is the children's hour. A story, a story."
You mustn't say 'but,'" they cried, kissing him and
hanging round his neck. "A story, a story."
And so Uncle Peter had to give in with a laugh, and when
he had unwound some of the arms from about his neck, he
told the little ones a lovely tale; and this same thing he
had to do every afternoon afterwards.
These are some of the stories he told in "The Children's

.,.~ J
<%^s ^^ A*^

The Rock

T HERE were grand doings at the Fairy Court, for the
Fairy Prince was to be married, and the wedding would
be very magnificent. But little Mawgan crept away from
the noise and bustle into the Palace Gardens, where she could
think quietly about her father and mother and her home
(whence she had been whisked away seven years before),
and could look out over the edge of the Fairy Realm in hopes
that the west wind might have swept away some of the fairy
mist and left a glimpse of home once more. If the Fairy


Guards found her. thus, she was scolded and sent back, but
to-day every one was too busy to heed her.
Now, when she came to the edge, lo! the Warder of the
Fairy Gate had stolen away himself to see the wedding and
left the key in the lock! A sudden thought flashed into
Mawgan's brain; she turned the key, opened the gate, and
stepped out on to the old familiar hills. And there below
was the blue lake, and the little town, and the Palace which
had once been her home. Down, down she ran till she came
to the Town-gate, where a little crowd was waiting to see the
King and Queen ride out a-hunting. Yes, there were her
father and mother, and she was just rushing up to greet them,
when she saw a girl of her own age riding by their side.
Who is the maiden ?" she asked of a bystander.
The maiden ?" he answered, astonished at the question;
"sure, you must be a stranger That is the Princess Mawgan,
and the youth who rides by her side is Prince Leolin, who is
to wed her at Martinmas "
"But he never looks at her," cried she. "Does he love
As one loves a cat who scratches when one stoops to
stroke her," answered he with a laugh. Ah! you do not
know! But when she was a little child the Princess was as
sweet as honey, but a change came over her at her seventh
year, and now-well! the Saints give her husband patience,
for he'll need it! "


Now at this Mawgan turned sadly away, for she understood
that this bitter maiden was the fairy changeling who had
taken her place. But how to break the spell she knew not,
or how to make any one believe her story. So she walked
slowly back along the river, which came singing down from
the hills, till she reached a great rock which the country folk
called the Rock of Carricklee," from some old half-forgotten
legend. In the rock was
a cave, and here Maw-
gan thought she would
go in and rest, for she
was tired. But as she
entered she was as-
tonished to see a fire
burning there,
and a table on
which stood a
porringer full of
porridge. At the
further end was
a little bed, and
a chair on which
lay a rich gar-
ment, and beside
it stood a spin-
ning-wheel with


a pile of flax, and there was a loom against the wall, and
above was written:-
Spin and weave as fine and thin
As gossamer thread and butterfly's skin;
And when the veil is finished quite
Bleach it with dew in the moonlight white;
Then she who wears it on her brow
Shall show if she be true or no "

So Mawgan sat her down and eat the porridge, and span
the thread and slept, when night came, in the little bed.
Every day the porringer was filled anew, though she never
saw any one bring the
porridge, and all day
long she worked at her
wheel or her loom, and
as she worked she sang
Sthe songs she had
learned in Fairyland !

Now the time came
when Prince Leolin
must marry the Prin-
cess, and very sad he
was, for every time
he saw her she said
2_ .such sharp ill-natured
things, that he disliked


her more and more. But he had given his princely word
and must keep it. So at last he started off with his Knights
and Men-at-Arms, and it so chanced that their way led them
by the Rock of Carricklee, and then they heard some one
singing so sweetly that the Prince looked over the rock, and
there he saw a most beautiful maiden, and in her hand a veil,
light as gossamer and white as driven snow.
Who art thou, fair maiden ?" he said.
I am the Princess Mawgan," she answered.
Nay, you do not speak the truth," he laughed, for I am
Prince Leolin, and I go to marry the Princess, who sits in
her father's hall-and beshrew me, but she is not so fair as
you are!"
"Let me go with you and I will prove my words! she
So he consented, and made one of his followers dismount
and give her his steed, and as they rode together she told him
her story.
But how to prove it ?" he said.
When we come to the Palace," she answered, say that
I am thy cousin-and it is true, for we are akin-so will they
receive me. And when you meet your bride in the hall
to-morrow, beg her to wear this veil for your sake. And if
she consents, throw it over her, and then see what happens!"
Thus he did, and when he met the false bride in the hall,
he entreated her to wear the veil he had brought, and which


was so fine and
thin that it was
wondrous to' see.
The bride would
have refused with
sharp words, but
Sh her mother, a-
S ,shamed of her
rudeness, took off
S the lace her daugh-
an ter wore, and Leo-
lin threw the Ma-
gic Veil over her.
l hBut as he did
N j so, a piercing
S, shriek ran through
the hall-there
was a rush as of wings, a clapping and rattling of doors
and windows, a whirling as of smoke wreaths-and lo! the
bride had quite vanished, and all that remained to mark
where she stood was the veil lying in a little heap on the
floor. The King and Queen cried out with fear and wonder,
and all the people began to run and shout, but Leolin called
to them to wait.
Then he lifted the veil, and threw it over her he had
called his cousin, and in a moment the King and Queen knew


it was their real true daughter Mawgan, and embraced her
with joyful tears. And she told them how she had been
stolen by the Fairies, and had dwelt seven years in the Fairy
Realm, and every one wondered and rejoiced.
There was no need to put off the marriage either, for
Leolin was only too glad to marry the true Mawgan, and
so they lived in peace and contentment all the rest of their

/%^ d. y/w<^-


Her First Portrait.

AYDEE meant to be an artist when she grew up, but on
this particular morning, as she sat trying to make
a picture of the lambs that frolicked all over the field, she
could not help thinking that perhaps art might be too difficult
to be entirely pleasant.
Ayah," she said anxiously to the Indian nurse, who had
come with her across the sea to stay at the pretty Normandy
farm, do you think father and mother will know that these
are lambs in my picture ? They won't stay still to be
drawed, though I've told them father and mother are coming
from India, and I'm doing this picture as a s'prise."
Him much beautiful," said Ayah in her queer English,
" most good as photograph."

_ __ __


She spoilt the child dreadfully, and filled her small head
with nonsense, said Daydee's parents, but they were grateful
for the Indian woman's devotion to their darling. Certainly
the weird stories she would recount to her awestruck little
charge were not very beneficial to one so timid and delicate.
"Now, Missie, come lie down," coaxed Ayah, when the
picture was finished and the pet lambs had been fed. The
child, with unusually prompt obedience, tripped along by
her side.
If I go to sleep," said she, to-morrow won't be so long
To-morrow the farmer would drive her and Ayah to the
train, and they would go a long, long journey to meet father
and mother! Daydee was too much excited to sleep much
that night, and she led poor Ayah a nice life until they were
safely in the train. Then she became interested in looking
out of the window at the quaint French villages they passed.
By the afternoon, however, Daydee got very tired and very
cross; and when, at one countrified little station not far
from their destination, the train was unexpectedly delayed for
half an hour, she began to cry.
Hush, hush!" cried Ayah, at the end of her patience.
"See that big man with the blue face! He eat up naughty
lil girls for dinner."
Daydee stopped crying to glance fearfully up at the
station master (who certainly did look very fierce, with his


great black French moustache and his bluish cheeks and chin)
and hid her face in Ayah's dress.' When she looked up he
was gone, and Ayah was falling asleep. Daydee peeped out
of the open door, and he was nowhere in sight; but there
was a beautiful coloured picture a little way down the
Why, there's lambs in that picture too! cried Daydee.
I must look if they're drawed better than my ones."
Seeing that her nurse slept, and meaning just to run there
and back, she stole softly out and sped lightly down the plat-
form. As she stood gazing at the poster the train began to
move, the guard shut a door or two, and hopped into his van
just as it passed the child, who stood open-mouthed, paralyzed
with dismay. To make matters worse, who should appear on
the scene at this moment but the blue-faced ogre who
(Daydee firmly believed) lived on hot roast little girl. Before
lie could see her, the child flew out of the little gate that
opened on to the country road, and never stopped until com-
pelled to do so by want of breath. Then she crouched,
panting, in a wayside plantation, straining her ears at the
slightest sound. Not until then did the poor little girl
realise all the terrors of her position-lost, penniless, and in
a country whose language she could neither speak nor
"Ayah, Ayah," she .wailed out, her voice strangled by
sobs. A flash of lightning was the only response, and, white

^" '-1^-iIc~t


S'4 -

. ~i2


-, c ;a\ 'In9 a song
a of summer,
~B i b bees are on
1 te wing,
JVerry birps are singing as
tbey ougbl Fo sing.

-- ~"~
- --,


as a sheet, the child
stumbled blindly out
on to the road and
ran as though for
her life.
Hola, hola, pe!-
tite fille !" cried a
rough voice, and a
man in a blue blouse,
who was watering
his horses at a little f.
pond, jumped from
his cart and ran into
the middle of the
road. He was just
in time to catch Daydee as sle fainted away.
The young man, who was a carrier, stood bewildered,
gazing at the child in his arms. Then he laid her gently on
some sacks in the cart, took off his cap and looked at the
green stagnant water. He shook his head and replaced the
cap. I can't put that on her," he muttered. Why, she's
like a little fairy."
As there was nobody in sight and the rain was beginning
to fall in large drops, he covered up Daydee with his coat,
pulled his horses out of the water, and drove on quickly to
the next village. Driving through the rain soon brought


Daydee to herself, and the carrier took her up beside him and
tried to comfort her., Although she could not understand his
words, somehow Daydee felt that she had found a friend,
and leaned her head on his shoulder and cried softly to
On their arrival at the village inn, a small crowd soon
collected, and poor Daydee was quite bewildered by the din
of questioning that assailed her, every one seeming to think
that she would understand French if only it was spoken loudly
Suddenly the carrier opened his notebook, to which a
much-bitten stump of pencil hung by a string. Perhaps he
thought the child might be able to write her name or address,
but Daydee was only six, and, owing to her delicate health,
had never been bothered with lessons, and this was beyond
her. Indeed, the case seemed quite hopeless, and I do not
know how long it would have been before Daydee was
restored to her parents, had not a bright idea struck her at
this moment. She bent over the book, her little hand moving
quickly and her lips pursed. The carrier watched intently,
and the crowd watched the carrier's face. Suddenly his eyes
lit up and he burst into a great laugh.
"The black nurse!" he shouted. "Hit off to the life.
Nose-ring, earrings, and all. Ah-h, but it is astonishing! "
What, what ?" cried every one.
Why, the black nurse that was in the down train," he


explained. I left before the train did, and didn't see the
little one, but somehow she's got left behind."
Well," said the innkeeper, after the portrait had been
passed round and had elicited much admiration from the
bystanders, it's lucky the next station is the terminus. Her
friends can't be far off. If you drive back quickly you'll be
just in time to meet the up-train and catch them."
Without another word the carrier turned about, and in
less than twenty minutes pulled his steaming horses up at the
station, just as the
train drew up at
the platform. ll
"Father, fa- Ii ~l l
their! screamed I
D aydee.
He had leapt
out before the train
stopped, but -his
wife and the poor
nurse were not
long behind him. '
Ah, what a htig-
ging and kissing
there was, and how
mother thanked the
carrier, and father


rewarded him, and Ayah called down blessings on his head
in Hindustanee.
Daydee is a grown-up young lady now and an artist, as
she wished, and her first essay in portraiture hangs in a place
of honour. Ayah is very proud of it, and considers it a
speaking likeness. By its side is a sketch of some rather
queer quadrupeds, of which strangers try in vain to divine
the species. But they are not comic to Daydee's parents.
They remind them how very near they once were to losing
their own pet lamb.

J/Z_ ^--

otherHE, mother, mother, the swallows are coming
Backk" Elsie and little Fred had been fretful all
the morning, and even when a burst of April sunshine
had brought them out into the open air, to hunt for daffodils,
even then they were not as merry as usual, and squabbled
over good-tempered old Fan as they dressed her up in Elsie's
.sunbonnet and chains of baby pink daisies. Mother, mother,
the swallows are coming back!" they screamed together.
" One has just gone into the old nest by your window, and
there are lots more flying in and out of the creeper on the
wall. Mother, do look."
Mother put down her work and looked up, with a pleasant
smile, at the cloud of swallows, chattering and chirping round
the deep gables of Fairoaks.


So I see," she said, nodding to the birds in a friendly
way, and I'm very glad to see them; for now, Elsie dear,
you and Boy will have lovely dreams."
"Do the swallows really bring dreams, mother?" Elsie
asked gravely. Will they bring us some to-night, or will
they be too tired, do you think ?"
S "Poor fings, they'll be too tired,"
S\ said Fred, with all the wisdom of his four
years. They've come a fwightful long
way, and they'll want a week before they
Scan carry dweams about."
SI My dreams wouldn't be very heavy,"
Subjected Elsie. "Please, dear swallow,
come to-night; I want a pretty
dream so much. I haven't had a
really nice one
for months."
""Not for
~/ onfs and
monfs," said
S*Fred, holding up
a coaxing face to
a little grey
,, '" swallow circling
4 ,,,, j N, just over his
head. Mover,


will it be vewy long till
night? "
"Twit-twit--twitter i "
said the swallow. That is
what it sounded like to
Fred and Elsie; but she
was really saying, Oh, '
you stupid little English
boy! Fancy even thinking 71
about bedtime yet, when
I haven't even settled \
whether I mean to stay
here or no; and yet I think '
I shall, for I like Fairoaks.
Greywings and Bright-
eyes, you must not fight
like that; you are setting
a shocking example to those children down there. Go and
look for flies. I believe it's going to rain."
Mamma Swallow went on to look at an old nest, while
Greywings and his sister made it up and began to look for
their dinner, sweeping very near the ground in their search.
So low did they go that the tip of Brighteyes' long wing-
feathers just swept Elsie's cheek as she stooped to button
up Fred's shoe.
The swallow kissed me," Elsie cried, clapping her hands


in glee. Mo-
ther dear, really
i and truly it did.
S- -~i Oh, I do believe
q 7L.K I shall .have a
L( [ swallow-dream
this very nightt"
Every other
i *, night in Elsie
," *and Fred's little
lives seemed to
have come all too quickly, when the very best game was
but half finished or the very dearest doll still dressed in
walking things, this night it seemed as if bedtime would
never come; but when at last Elsie was settled in her white
bed next to Fred's cot, she was tired out, and did not once
think about the swallows before she fell asleep.
Then she woke suddenly, feeling quite refreshed, though
it was moonlight and not daylight in ler room, and round
her, and all over her bed, was the loveliest, softest quilt
imaginable. Feathers ? Yes-why, they were birds-swal-
lows of all sizes, and though the window was wide open, not
a breath of cold air could touch Elsie in her cosy nest of
warm feathers.
*' Yes," said the swallow who lay just over Elsie's
heart, "you're wide awake, and it isn't a dream, but you'll


think it one when you wake and remember to-morrow
"How is it I understand what you say?" Elsie asked
rather timidly. I never did before."
My daughter, Brighteyes, kissed you to-day, child-that's
why," said Mamma Swallow-for it was she; and a very
small swallow, who, perhaps, was Brighteyes, pushed her soft
head into Elsie's hand and there nestled it.
"It-isn't everybody we show our-
selves to," Mamma Swallow went on,
" but we liked you, Elsie, when we saw r
you first last year standing in the porch,
picking roses for the breakfast table."
Have von been
here before? Elsie
asked. "Not to me, ''-
but to Dick--or God-
frey ? They're my bro-
thers, you know,
and they're at
school now."
tVe know,''
said Mamma F
Swallow, and all ,
the swallows ,
fluttered toge-


other as she spoke. They may be very nice brothers, those
two, but they are very bad friends to swallows. Why, Dick
wanted to get up a ladder and pull all our nests down. I
suppose, poor thing, he had never heard that swallows'
nests bring riches to a place-but luckily your father stood
firm and would not allow it."
"And Godfrey?"
Mamma Swallow shivered through every feather, and all
the swallows shuddered in sympathy. Once upon a time,"
she said, "I had a nephew, who was rather a worthless
swallow, but still he was my nephew; and what do you think
happened to him? A boy called Godfrey went out with
a horrid gun-and-shot-my-nephew--dead. He said he
was after crows, but that doesn't matter. Your brother shot
my nephew dead, and we have never brought him a single
swallow-dream since. Let his crows serve him."
Perhaps he's sorry now," twittered Brighteyes, but
her mother lifted an imperious claw and silenced her at
"Little Fred yonder has never done us any harm," she
said, so he shall have one of our prettiest dreams. Would
you like to see it, Elsie? Look."
Elsie looked and saw a picture growing in a shaft of
moonlight on the floor; it was the orchard at Fairoaks,
and under the apple-trees were baskets full of the round
red fruit, which she and Fred were helping to fill; and

. .r n9g, sing, Birale, sis,



I V.. .-
. ,.''

/r11 about us and every lbing.


overhead sounded the farewell chirp of swallows flying

Miss Elsie, are you never going to wake ? It's nearly
half-past seven, and the loveliest morning."

Zelda F

and the


IT was the first day of May and Zelda's birthday; the
winter had been long and dreary, and for the first time
for many days the sun shone forth and gilded the sea of
chimney-pots on which Zelda looked out. Zelda had watched
him rise, had seen the mists redden and then glide away, till
at last the warm yellow light fell on her face and lit up her
bare room.
I am so glad the sun has come to wish me good morn-
ing' on my birthday," said Zelda, as the bright rays turned
her long fair hair to ripples of gold, and tried to peep through


her fingers at her brown eyes, which she shaded from the
dazzling light. But Zelda had not much time to spare, so she
began to dress, and whilst she dressed she sang,-

"'Tis cold! 'tis cold! for Winter bleak is here;
Ah, me! my heart! ah, me!
And far and near 'tis grey and drear;
Ah, me! my heart! ah, me!"

The sunbeams paused as they flickered on the wall, for there
was a strange ring of sadness in her voice.

'Tis May 'tis May! the blossom's on the bough;
Ah, joy my heart ah, joy !
Soft breezes blow: 'tis Springtime now,--
Ah, joy! my heart! ah, joy "

The last verse was sung with such passionate gladness, and
Zelda's voice was so rich and sweet, that the little sunbeams
recommended their wild dance, and a lark outside took up
her song.
And now you will want to know a little more about Zelda.
Well, she lived with .her mother and four little sisters and
brothers in a tiny cottage, one of a long row in a poor dingy
street. Her mother was a laundress, and Zelda helped her
since she left school. Her sisters and brothers went to school,
but there was plenty of work for Zelda and her mother to do
-clothes to mend and cooking to do, besides washing and
ironing from morning till night. They were very poor, and


had few pleasures except those they made for themselves.

They loved their mother dearly, and were all happy together;

although there were often days when there was very little

to eat, and sometimes in the cold winter they had no fire.

Zelda, above every one, was like a ray of sunshine, and when

she did feel tired of their hard life occasionally, and her back

ached from bending over the wash-tub, she never let the

others see her tears.

"I think a sunbeam kissed you in your cradle," her

mother used to say ; and her brothers and sisters called her


And Zelda herself loved best, next to her

mother, brothers,

and sisters, the

sunshine and her

singing. The

dearest wish of

her heart was to

be able to have

lessons and be-

come a great

singer, but there

was no money to

Si spare, and so she
"_ never breathed a

word about her

_ dreams. But she

~ ~-=
_Sr=-f- I
- -
--- =
~- _.rr __


sang all day long at the wash-tub, while she mended the well-
worn clothes, and while she cooked, and the children always
pleaded for a song when they went to sleep. Her beautiful
voice made the whole house full of melody, and particularly
on sunny days her songs were gayest, and her voice most rich
and sweet.
As soon as Zelda was dressed on that. May morning, she
tripped downstairs to the tiny room which served them as
kitchen and parlour. She was prepared for her usual morn-
ing duties of tidying up and setting the breakfast, for her
mother had been ailing lately, and Zelda had with great
trouble persuaded her to rest a little longer in the morning.
But a surprise awaited her. The few cups and saucers were
on the table, the kettle boiling, and i-n front of her plate
was a bunch of violets.
How lovely she cried; who can have done it ? "
Then she heard suppressed laughter, and, peeping behind
the door, she discovered her mother and the four children.
Zelda smothered them with kisses.
What a lovely birthday this is," she said, as they sat
down to their simple meal, and she fastened the violets in
her dress.
How I wish I could give you more, darling," said her
mother, but I feel that the future has many good things
in store for you."
(She little thought how soon her words would come true.)


/ I don't wish
S/ for anything
more', mother,"
said Zelda;
S though as she
s- said it tie
S'_ thought of her
/-K longings to be a
w great singer
j i darted through
bg e m n her mind, but
t r she put it away
~ io quickly.
.The children
went off -to
school, and then Zelda and her mother set to work, for there
was a. great deal to do that day. They worked hard for tree
lours, and then Zelda was left alone, for her mother had to
take some washing to a house some distance away. Zelda
begged her mother not to go, for she looked very tired, but
she thought the air might do her good.
Zelda went on with her work, but a curious change had
come over her. Often when we are feeling happiest, sud-
denly it is as when a dark cloud passes over the summer sky,
for we feel so sad of heart. Through the open cottage she
could see the narrow street, and once a carriage passed with


a lady and a girl in it. They were beautifully dressed, and
leant back with a satisfied air, as if they had everything the
world could give. Zelda's back was aching, and she felt hot
and tired. For the first time a feeling of discontent crept
into her sunny heart; all the glad birthday thoughts had
died away.
Why must mother work so hard," she thought, and I
too. That girl who drove past just now can amuse herself
from morning till night, and learn to sing -if she pleases,
while I- "
And here, I am sorry to say, Zelda allowed a few tears to
creep into her eyes. The Sunbeams danced on the soapsuds
and made them rainbow-hued.
"Can't you help me, Sunbeams?" cried Zelda. The
clock on a neighboring church struck twelve, and at the
last stroke Zelda, who had buried her face in her hands, heard
a voice say, "Zelda."
She looked up, and behold in the midst of a ray which
played on the edge of the tub, stood a radiant little figure.
His flowing robe was the colour of sunlight, and sparks of
quivering light formed a crown upon his head.
"You called me, Zelda," he said.
Who are you ?" murmured Zelda.
I am the Sun's messenger-one of the Sunbeams," he
answered. "We are always ready to answer the call of those
who love us, and to help them if they stand the test."


Ah! cried Zelda, I will do anything, if you will only
help me to become a great singer, and make our lives
less hard."
Come with me, then," was the answer.
The Sunbeam stretched out his hand, and Zelda felt her-
self drawn up the golden ray by which he had descended.
Up through the clear air she floated; along the golden path-
way, till they approached a yellow globe of dazzling
"Here is the Sun, earth-child," said the Sunbeam; and
Zelda found herself on a golden meadow, thronged with
Sunbeams exactly like her guide. The air was full of sweet
music, and great sunflowers turned their radiant faces
towards her.
In the midst of the meadow a golden castle rose up, with
flaming turrets.
"That is the Sun's dwelling," said the Sunbeam, "but
we may not take you there, for if mortals gaze upon the Sun,
they can never see aught else again. But I am here to tell
you his commands."
Meanwhile all the Sunbeams had formed a large circle
round Zelda and her guide.
Child of Sunshine and of Song," he said, "we have
answered thy call and will help thee, if thou choosest wisely
of that which we offer thee. We will fulfil thy desire; thou
shalt be taught and shalt become a great singer-so great


that thy voice will make men weep. But then thou must
leave thy mother, thy sisters and brothers, and leave thy life
of toil; thou shalt no longer know hunger and cold, but all
that the world can give thee shall be thine. Yet, remember,
the poor have pleasures which cannot be bought for gold,
and the rich, for all they appear to have all that mortal can
wish, have sometimes sorrows which they would gladly
exchange for poverty. Say, now, wilt thou sooner be the
nightingale of thy cottage home or the song-bird of the
world? "
Zelda stood bewildered. There rose up before her a
picture of the life which the Sun-
beam offered her-no more work,
no more cold, no
more hunger, but 4-
comfort and plea-
sure, and the fulfil-
ment of her one great
wish. It was a glori-
ous dream. But then
she thought of her
mother and brothers
and sisters, of the
tiny cottage which,
though poor and
small, was yet


" home to her, where they often had such happy hours; she
thought of her hard-working mother, with her sweet, tired
face, and wondered with a glad feeling of pride what they
would all do without Sunny." All her sad, discontented
thoughts of the morning came into her mind, and gave her a
sharp conscience prick.
No, a thousand times no! she could never leave them.
No pleasure, no comfort in the world could make up for the
loss of "home." She turned to the Sunbeam: "I cannot
leave my home and mother," she said.
A radiant smile illumined the Sunbeam's face, and whilst
a strain of the most perfect music swept through the air,
Zelda heard a vast murmur as of thousands of voices.
Child of Sunshine and of Song, thou hast chosen
And when once more the Sunbeam took her hand, and
they floated down the golden ray towards Earth, he said to
her :
"Didst thou hear, Zelda, the many voices which rejoiced
at thy choice ? When I answered thy call thou wert dis-
contented, and we feared that thou mightst lose thy sunny
spirit. But now we have tried thee and find that thou art,
indeed, the same. We have always watched over thee,
but now the Sun decrees that thou shalt be our special
They reached the cottage and entered. All was un-


II\^ / \ changed, save that on the rough
,'1 deal table lay a small heap of
glittering gold, which made the whole room strangely bright.
Oh, what is that ? cried Zelda.
It is sunshine gold," said the Sunbeam, "and is the
Sun's gift to you. Every morning you will find a little heap
like this; and, moreover, it is not like the gold which mortals
use. It brings blessing with it to the one who spends it and
the one who receives it, and can never be used for selfish
objects. You may tell your 'mother this, but no one else, for
others would but laugh and mock, mayhap. So guard and
use it well, and you shall have eternal sunshine in your heart."


And the Sunbeam spoke truly, for a new life began from
that day for Zelda and her dear ones. They lhad been happy
before, but now no cloud ever passed over their lives; they
no longer suffered hunger and cold, for sunshine gold had
smoothed all hardships away. In time people came from far
and near to hear Zelda sing, and they begged her to travel
to distant countries, and offered her gold untold. But she
refused to leave her home, as she had once refused the offer
of the Sunbeams; nor would she sing for pay, but wherever
there was someone ill or weary, Zelda came with her silvery
voice and made them forget their pain. Thus all her life
she was known as Sunny, and her greatest wish was realized
too. For a sunny heart makes a sunny life-don't you think
so ?

'~ 1

The Princess Almond Blossom.

H HERE was a great meeting of all the animals in Nod
Land. They were about to choose the King's new
Poet, and there was much anxious excitement about the
matter. It rested between the Squirrel and the White Calf,
but, so far, the Squirrel had most votes, and the meeting was
called to settle the thing finally.
When all were assembled, the two rivals were called upon
to recite each his best piece. Most of the big animals were
in favour of the Calf, as he was known to be rather senti-
mental. He was the first to begin, and his piece was the


"Oh, when I think of years and years,
My saddened eyes quite fill with tears,
And trickling o'er my very nose,
Run down and down unto my toes,
My toes.

"I think and think-oh, how I think!
Then blink and blink-oh, howz I blink!
Until I feel my courage sink,
And so my sighs arise
And blow and blow
Me to and fro,
And go and go,
Ah, where, indeed ? I do not know,
I do not know."

When he had gone thus far, having blubbered himself
into quite a sad state, the audience looked at one another
doubtfully, each one wanting his neighbour's opinion before
being sure of his own; a voice squeaked out: Give him a
goose wing to dry his tears! and this silly remark changed
the current of opinion, and a perfect uproar arose; while
above the tumult could be heard such insulting remarks as,
" Go and be blowed, then Dry up, old chappie "Let
him get his ears trimmed Shy a copper kettle at him."
It was too much for the poor Calf, who sat down, feeling
very much snubbed, even ready to cry ; and this was his final
attempt to be made King Lion's poet. Then the Squirrel
was called upon, and standing gracefully, with one paw on
his heart, he said the verse which is written under the




S. 4 ~

*, "i ; k

-"^ -
^ ^!^- ';< ^
I- i'" '.'' ,*

n .,

e r^** **
^~r i B


(1^ G-~

now whbo

Ibis can be,

,A little Princess,
it seems o me,

From fairylanD


set free."





picture. Theap-
plause which
waited for his
last word was- "
simply deafen-
ing, and with
one accord he
was elected Lan-
When the ex-
citement had -
calmed down,
and he had been congratulated by his friends, Mr. Reynard
begged him to tell them where he got his ideas.
From the Princess herself! he answered, calmly.
"When ? Where ? How ?" they all cried out together.
Well, it was in this way. I was sitting quietly outside
my door, eating a nut, and I looked up suddenly and there
she stood-a real Almond Blossom Princess.' The flowers
were all over her, until.you could hardly tell which was the
flower and which was the Princess!" And the Squirrel
looked round at the animals, who cried out:
He's a poet, a real poet! And a small lizard squeaked,
" Did you speak to her ? "
"Yes," the Squirrel said, I could not'help asking her
why she looked so happy; and she replied, because she had



much reason, for
S that very day she
S had been set free
from a wicked en-
Oh, do tell us about
it! they all cried out.
"The Princess told me she was the
daughter of King Bogus, of Popland, and
that she bad a wicked and
cruel stepmother, who was
awfully jealous of poor little
S her as badly as ever she
dared. So one day she told
'//, the King, who was very fond
of Blossom, that the Princess was going away on a visit to
her aunt. Now this was not true, but the wicked Queen
wished to get rid of Blossom, and had consulted a Witch,
who lived down by the sea, and the Witch promised to
change the Princess into a shell."
The shellfish ole thing," muttered a parrot.
Don't interrupt," said the Squirrel; who then went on
to tell that when the Princess was turned into a shell, she
became such a lovely one that everyone who came to the
Palace admired it, and the King got curious, and wanted to


know where it came from. The wicked Queen got fright-
ened, and hated so to have poor Blossom admired, even as a
shell, that she got the Witch to transform her into a hunting
horn; but again, when the horn was sounded, the note was
so beautiful and sweet that the people crowded from all
parts to hear it, until the Queen, enraged, sent again for the
old Witch, and insisted on poor Blossom being changed into
something more common. Now the Witch had not power to
transform the Princess more than three times, so she warned
the Queen to consider well what she was about, as this was
the last time she could help her. The wicked Queen, seeing
a plate of almonds and raisins on the table before her, thought
if Princess Blossom was made into an almond, she would
probably get eaten up, and there would be an end of her!
So in a twinkling, poor little Blossom lay on the plate with
the almonds and raisins; and now, indeed, her fate seemed
sealed, for these fruits were meant for a game of snap-dragon,
which the children were to have that evening, it being
Christmas-time, and this was Fridda's birthday (the Queen's
own horrid little daughter), and she would be sure to throw
the poor almonds in too.
Now amongst the guests was a favourite cousin of Blos-
som's, a dear little maid named Trula, and as the Queen was
about to put the fruit into the snapdragon dish, one almond
fell unnoticed by her, near Trula's plate, and it was so white
and pretty that the little girl could not bear to eat it.


I will bury it in the ground," she thought, and it may
grow into an almond-tree."
This almond, as you may guess, was Blossom, who was
so grateful to her little friend, feeling that, indeed, she had
been saved from an awful end. Little Trula kept her word,
and when she went home, sowed the almond in her garden.
Then a strange thing happened, the almond really grew up
into a small tree in a very few weeks, and the other almond-
trees knew that it was really a fairy tree, and not like them-
selves. They whispered about it to each other, and one, in
which a tree-fairy dwelt, told them the history of Princess
Blossom, adding that the enchantment would cease on her
birthday if anyone thought kindly of her under the tree on
that day And on that day, as Trula was playing near her
almond-tree, of which she was very fond, she stood and
gazed up at the opening blossoms, thinking of her poor little
cousin, saying softly: How I wish dear little Blossom were
here." No sooner had she uttered the words than the Princess
stood beside her, to her great joy. When Princess Blossom
had told all her story to her dear Trula, she said the almond-
tree fairies promised she should keep the power of trans-
forming herself into an almond-tree when she had once
been released, and the little girls agreed that, perhaps, it
was better she should remain a tree as long as her wicked
stepmother lived, but she should first go and tell the King,
her father.


It was on her way to the Palace I met her," finished the
Squirrel. "So let us all go and drink long life and good
health to Prince Almond Blossom."
And success to the King's new poet," chorused all the

(9.' .

How We Tolled the Bell for Guy

NCLE ANTHONY," said the Four, as they sat in a
Srow on the hearthrug, we wishes you would tell us
somefin' you did when you was a little boy."
Somefin' naughty," added Flossie, somefin' very
naughty, the most naughtiest thing you ever did."
"But why naughty ? enquired Uncle.
"'Cause they'se the most interwestin'," remarked Bobbie.
Besides, you'se alive, and werry good little children mostly
dies. I think you must have been rather naughty to live to
be so awful old."
Oh! p'raps not so very much," cried Tiny, who felt the
last speech to be iot quite polite, "only just a teeny bit-
just naughty enough to live, uncle dear."



an@ Biue.


"Uncle dear" sat silent for a minute, pulling his long
white beard thoughtfully. He was really the Great Uncle
of the Four, and seemed to them immensely old. However,
they were great friends; and this afternoon, though father
and mother were out, they had come down as usual in the
twilight, and were overjoyed to find uncle ensconced in the
armchair by the fire.
Well," he said at last, I am sure we did not mean to
be naughty; but about the worst scrape we-that is my
brother Tom and I-ever got into was about Guy Fawkes."
Guy Fawkes exclaimed Flossie, who had begun the
study of history. "Do you mean the Guy Fawkes as was
blowed up ? Did you know him, Uncle ? "
"Not the real Guy Fawkes," answered Uncle, gravely;
"he died just a year or so before I was born; but this was
a Guy Fawkes we made. Tom and I had determined to
have a splendid guy-just like Napoleon Buonaparte, who had
not been very long dead in those days, and whom, of course,
as patriotic English boys, we were bound to detest. So we
begged the housekeeper (mother and father were away in
London) to give us an old suit of clothes, and these we stuffed
with straw for his body and legs, and put a stick through the
sleeves to make them stand out, and we bought a mask as
much like Bony-as we called him-as possible, and made a
cocked hat of coloured paper. Then we put him in a chair
and carried him round the garden, shouting out:-


^^-( ^7- ^43.

'Please to remember
The Fifth of November.'


S. But we began to
L '- think it was a pity
','- .. no one should see our
... ; guy but the gar-
deners, so we carried
/ him off to the village,
'and there we were
greeted with delight;
and Jerry Granger,
the blacksmith's son, proposed we should make a bonfire on
the Green in the evening and burn Bony. Jerry was a great
friend of ours, for he had most splendid ideas. It was he who
the winter before, when the snow was three feet deep, had
helped us to make the great snowball, which had been such a
wonder, and had lasted quite into the Spring before it melted.
So it was agreed that Jerry and the other children should
collect sticks and leaves and straw for the bonfire; we had to
run home to dinner, but we would bring back Bony later on
to be burnt.
Now when we got home we found Aunt Margaret had
ridden over to see us; she knew father and mother were
away, and that our tutor, too, was gone home ill, so came to
look after us.' She had dinner with us, and we told her all
abqut Bony, and how we were going to burn him; and then


she sat by the fire a little while, and we asked her to tell us
a story. Auntie was very good. at stories."
Do you 'member the story, Uncle ?" asked Flossie.
"Yes, quite well, because it had something to do with
what followed," said Uncle. "It was this."
Once upon a time the Fairies came to the New Year,
and told him he must get ready to go down to Earth and set
to work, for the Old Year was growing old and feeble, and
must soon go under the Dark Archway. And they prepared
the Flying Chariot, and harnessed two reindeer to it, and
said that when the Northern Lights began to play and send
up shining ladders from Earth to Heaven, he
must drive down them to his work. But the
New Year said:
'How shall I know when it is exactly the
time, for if I go too soon the Old
Year will be angry."'
And the
Fairies an- :?*
One of us
will go and warn
the Old Year;
and you will
hear the bells. 7-l
For the church


bells will ring then. First they will toll-solemn,.and slow,
and sad-because the Old Year must go under the Dark
Archway; and then as the clock strikes twelve they will
chime out to welcome you as yodt drive your reindeer down
the path of the Northern Lights.' So the New Year pro-
mised to be ready.
Then the Fairy came down to earth where the snow lay
thick and white, and there sat the Old Year weeping tears of
ice because he must go under the Dark Archway, and the
church bells were tolling solemn and slow.
"Well, the Fairy comforted the Old Year, and told him
he needn't be fright-
ended to go under the
Dark Archway, be-
cause, on the other
side was a beautiful
country, where the sun
r- always shone, and
there would be no
more ice nor any snow,
nor cold, nor storm and
tempest. So the Old
Year took courage and
with one last look
,- '4- plunged under the
Dark Archway, and


the bells began to chime, and the New Year drove his rein-
deer steeds down the Shining Path of the Northern Lights."
When Auntie had finished her story she said she must go,
so she kissed us and bade us be good boys and take care not
to burn ourselves when we burnt Bony; and she mounted
her horse and rode away home. But Tom sat looking very
Tony,' he said after a bit, 'Tony, don't you think
that as we are going to burn Bony, we ought to toll the bell
for him ? It seems rather mean not to do so.'
'But how can we?' I said. 'The ringers won't be
"'If we can get the key of the church,' he went on, 'we
might do it. I've often watched them, and thought I would
like to try, only Granger always said I was too small. But I
don't believe we are. You could pull.one and I the other.'
But how can we get the key ?'
It hangs up in Callcott's cottage on a nail behind the
clock. Let's go and ask him.'
"We ran off, but when we reached the parish clerk's
cottage, he was not at home; but the door stood ajar, and
we pushed it and went in. There hung the church key sure
enough-it was about half a foot long-and Tom was up on
a stool and whipped it off the nail in a minute. Then we
hurried off to the church, which stood outside the village
on the slope of the hill above the river.


S "We were soon inside, and .up the
tower staircase to the ringing chamber,.
S^ Iand thero laid hold of the bell-ropes and

"i Wce pulled a11n we pulled with all
i)c 'or mIig'lit, I)but it was some time
^ '. before we made any sound: but at
last clash-clang
S, ding-dong
to ring, though
S they sounded
Rather queer.
"' We must
ring three times
three,' said Tom,
who knew the
custom, "'cause
he is a man, and then as many years as he is old.'
'But how old was Bony?' I enquired.
Tom paused. It was a knotty question.
"' Suppose we ring about fifty,' he said at last. 'Most
grown-up people are about fifty, you know.'
So we set to work again, and pulled away at those bells,
and though we made a considerable amount of noise, I fear
we didn't ring Guy Fawkes's funeral knell very evenly.


But we worked hard, and had got through the three times
three, and were ringing the probable years of his life, when
a queer sound attracted our attention, even amid the clang
and clash of the bells. It was a screaming sort of sound,
and Tom let go his rope and peeped out of the tower
Oh Tony!' he called out. 'They are all here; just
look !'
"So they were. All the villagers, men, women, and
children, seemed to be collected in the churchyard, and they
were all staring up with white faces and open mouths at the
tower. They had apparently rushed off without bonnet or
cap-the blacksmith still grasping his forge hammer, and the
carpenter his chisel, and the women with their soiled aprons
and their babies clutched in their arms. And they all looked
frightened out of their wits, especially when they caught
sight of us looking out of the window, for they began to
scream something which sounded like 'the ghostesses! the
But at that moment we saw Callcott pressing through
the crowd, and following him was the rector himself. Now
we had the greatest awe of the rector, who was not only our
uncle, but a most learned and dignified gentleman. He
always wore a shovel hat and gaiters, because he was an
archdeacon as well as a rector; and he came marching
solemnly through the crowd, and he spoke to the people and

If '63


told them to be quiet, and that he would see what was the
matter with the bells. Then he disappeared under the porch,
and a minute after we heard his stately step on the tower
stairs, and there he was standing in the little arched doorway
which admitted into the ringing chamber.
'Anthony Thomas !' he cried in amazement, as he
recognized our two dusty little figures. 'What does this
mean ?'
"'Please, Uncle Theophilus,' stammered Tom, who was
the eldest, 'please-we were-were only tolling-for-for--
Guy Fawkes-Bony, I mean!'
"'For whom?' thundered the rector. 'What did you
say, Thomas?'
'For-for Guy Fawkes,' murmured Tom, in the smallest
of voices. 'You see-we were-going to-to burn him-and
it seemed only-only kind, because they-they-ring for the
Old Year-and chime when the reindeer-' But here Tom
stopped, hopelessly mixed, and quaking with fear.
'I don't know what nonsense you are talking, Thomas
Campion,' said Uncle Theophilus, sternly. 'But I do know
you have frightened the whole village in the most serious
manner-and have stolen the church key.'
But this accusation I could not stand.
"' We didn't steal it, Uncle Theophilus,' I shouted. 'We
only borrowed it. And the church belongs to everybody,
and everybody has a right to go into it. Father says so.'





SS1 .





But everybody has not the right to ring .the bells out
of all time and tune,' remarked the rector, severely. Come
with me, nephews. You may as well learn that lesson at
We did learn that lesson-in Uncle Theophilus's study
-and Bony wasn't burnt that night. No! At. about the
time when the enemy of our country should have been
blazing merrily, we were creeping home, two sadder and
sorer boys than had gone forth that afternoon. For the
rector said it was downright sacrilege to toll the church bell
for a Guy Fawkes stuffed with straw, besides frightening all
the people nearly into fits, because they thought that the
ghosts were at their revels in the church, and as our father
was away, Uncle Theophilus felt it was his shnple duty to
correct us-and he did so thoroughly."
The Four listened to the story with deep attention, and
after a minute's reflection, Bobbie said:-
"Did he whack you very hard ? "
"Yes, very !" responded Uncle Anthony. Then there
was another silence which lasted some time. The fire had
sunk down to a glowing red, and there were no flames to
give light. It grew darker and darker, and nobody spoke.
Presently the door opened softly, and some one came in.
"Why," said a laughing voice, "I believe they are all
asleep together!"

#2 !

be -usJ m n's


<9- iM..


And so they were. Uncle in the armchair, and the Four
on the hearthrug in a heap.
"But Uncle told us a lovely story about a nice man he
knowed, called Mr. Bony," explained Flossie, and he was
stuffed with straw-and they was going to burn him, only
they got whipped instead."

/ ---------


T HE old Squire rang the bell violently, and came back to
his chair at the breakfast-table, trembling. He had
just received a very agitating letter.
When the servant appeared, he looked up absently.
Did you ring, sir ? asked the man.
Yes; tell Mrs. Harding to come to me."
The man withdrew silently, but once outside the door,
he almost ran into the housekeeper's room.
Quick, ma'am!" said he, there's something amiss-
my master is all of a shake like ; maybe it's a fit coming
Mercy, William !" exclaimed Mrs. Harding, hurrying
into the morning-room.


"Don't be alarmed," said the Squire, "I'm not ill."
"Not bad news, sir, I hope ?"
"Very bad news; they are sending home the little one
to me, from India."
What, Miss Joyce, sir? "
The Squire nodded.
To you, sir? poor Mr. Anthony's little girl ? Deary me,
if that isn't a charge! exclaimed Mrs. Harding, lifting her
Yes," answered the Squire, irritably ; "what on earth
am I to do with a child ?--an old man going down, into the
"I'll cast about, sir, for something, you may be sure;
I've been too used to children to let Miss Joyce be in your
Humph! said the Squire.
"The poor little fatherless, motherless lamb murmured
Mrs. Harding.
She will tease the dogs and get bitten, or tumble down-
stairs, or she will play with fire, or pick my favourite flowers
and melt her wax dolls on the hearth," grumbled the Squire.
I'll look to it, sir, that she doesn't."
You have forgotten children, Harding."
You shall be left in peace, sir," rejoined she. "What
time may Miss Joyce be coming? "
To-night. Send the carriage to meet the eight-o'clock


train, and make the nurse who brings the child as comfort-
able as you can-she will return to her home in the morn-
ing; you must find some one in the village as a nursemaid."
Yes, sir, I'll manage everything, you may trust to me,"
said Mrs. Harding.
With a loud sigh over the threatened peace of his life,
the Squire turned to his breakfast and complained (hat it
was cold.
Joyce arrived at eight o'clock that evening, and was
straightway put to bed without seeing her grandfather.
The Squire can't have his ways changed; we must
keep the child quiet," said Mrs. Harding to the nurse, who
Likely she will brighten him up, and take him out of
those ways."
Mrs. Harding shook her head sadly; she did not think
that was very probable.

Joyce came down the unfamiliar staircase next morning,
and ran across the hall to the morning-room.
Joyce was a shy little maid, and when she saw her grand-
father standing with his back to the wood fire she halted and
put the back of her small hand over her large blue eyes.
"Well, Joyce," said he, frigidly.
Joyce peeped at him through her fingers.
Who am I, do you know ? "


The voice was so like her dead father's, that Joyce's shy-
ness vanished.
Yes," said she.
"Who, then?" asked the Squire, bending down.
Before Joyce could answer, the big deerhound sprang
across the room to see the small stranger for himself.
"Down, sir, down Don't be afraid of him, Joyce Pat
him, and make friends! "
But Joyce was afraid, and
clutched at her grandfather's hand
and hid her face in his arm.
It was surprising hw
easy it was to take her ,,n
his knee, and what a
pleasure to feel the 1
soft .fingers in his
After a little
Joyce patted the
long head of the
deerhound, and
the three became
suddenly very .
Mrs. Harding


Shall I take Miss Joyce in the garden, sir ?"
What do you say, Joyce ?" said the Squire.
"If you please," said she, getting off his knee, and placing
her hand confidingly in Mrs. Harding's.
The two went through the open windows into the sunlit
garden, and the Squire, instead of beginning his breakfast,
sighed and looked after them.
"You mustn't ever pick the flowers, Miss Joyce," said
Mrs. Harding, while the child dragged a tall fox-glove
towards her to smell.
"Why not ?" said Joyce.
Because it would make grandpa angry."
"Why ? "
"Because he loves them."
They walked through the flower-gardens into the fruit-
garden, and then they came back to the morning-room
As they passed, the Squire called to his grandchild.
You mustn't stay too long, Miss Joyce, for grandpapa
soon gets tired," said Mrs. Harding.
Joyce ran in with a little childish cry of delight.
"What is it, Joyce?" said the Squire, expectantly,
putting down his newspaper.
Grandpapa, I've seen such apples, such lovely apples,"
cried she.
What ? do you want one ?" he inquired.


a song


in a smile,


unD anD rosy

as can be,

Rea9y fo beguile.





"Yes, but I mustn't
pick apples," answered
Joyce, shaking her __
head very gravely.
"Oho!" said the
Squire, with a sudden
twinkle in his sad eyes,
"and I am to come and
pick one-is that it ?"
"Yes," answered
Joyce, yes, grand-
The Squire stood
up, straightened his
back, rang for his hat py
and stick, and pre-
sently he and Joyce
went. hand in hand
down the garden.
"Now, look at that! on the very first morning, too!"
said Mrs. Harding to William, "and he so set on being left
to himself."
Hasn't touched his breakfast, scarce, nor ain't read his
paper, ma'am!"
"Dear dear wonders will never cease "said she.
After this day, the old Squire began to have pleasure in



~-~---- .ov'--k

his own possessions once more-in things that he had almost
forgotten were his. Joyce took him to watch the pigs
being fed, or to look for eggs in the hens' nests, or to see
the ducks waddle to the water's edge across the large
pond away from the joyous cries of little Joyce.
The Squire's health improved, he seldom complained of
fatigue, he no longer dreaded the coming of winter with its
dark,' cold, and dreary days, for a little child was filling
his old age with all the simple delights that old age loves.
He was never lonely.
So Joyce beguiled the old Squire and made him
happy, until he wondered how he ever existed without her.


$,,_7rm unc$cp the
l- e6

IT happened that on one afternoon in December the
weather had turned fine, and Jan started off in a small
boat called a dingy," on a little expedition of his own, along
the rocky coast, to try and catch something with his net
or line to take home to his mother. He was feeling sad, for
times had been very bad latterly, and it was hard work to
find food or money. He presently espied an opening in the
rocks like a little tunnel, only visible at low water, and being
a fearless little lad, he sculled the dingy into the narrow
channel. This passage suddenly widened out, and Jan
found himself in a large lofty cave, dimly lighted by the
passage through which he had come. The boat's keel
grated on the pebbles, and Jan stepped ashore, half afraid
of the deep silence and gloom, and started to explore
the place. The sight of the cave filled Jan with wonder,
for the walls seemed made of thousands of slender col-
umns, of all shapes and sizes. The number of nests in


the rock ledges
showed that the
cave was the re-
treat of thou-
sands of sea fowl,
and in exploring these, Jan
quite forgot all about the
time, till a peculiar booming
sound caused him to start and
listen. It was caused by the
__ tide, which was tossing the
waves against the entrance,
and Jan found, to his dismay,
that he could no longer get out through the passage, and was,
in fact, a prisoner. The water rose higher and higher, and
Jan had to retreat further up the rocks, till he climbed above
the high-water mark, on to a ledge of rock where, as there
was nothing else to be done, he sat down and waited.
Jan was a sensible little lad, who knew that the tide ebbs
as regularly as it flows, and did not, therefore, give himself
up for lost, as some little boys might have done. It was very
dreary and gloomy in his rocky prison, and Jan felt cold and
tired; and, presently fell into an uneasy sleep, with his head
on a bunch of seaweed.

Don't be afraid, Jan, I won't hurt you," said a voice


as musical as a tide ripple, and then Jan saw, seated on a
neighboring ledge of rock, a beautiful lady, with red golden
hair and a pair of the bluest eyes that Jan had ever seen.
Her dress was of lovely tinted seaweed, trimmed with coral,
which matched her lips, and she looked so gentle and loving
that Jan quite forgot to feel afraid, but was terribly nervous.
"I beg your pardon, Miss," stammered Jan, "but I hope
you won't mind me stopping here a little longer, till I can
get out."
"Get out ? why, that is nothing; but I forgot that you
are only a mortal," laughed Jan's visitor.
And what may you be, Miss, if I may ask ? said Jan,
pulling his forelock, sailor fashion.
I'm Mother Carey," replied the sea fairy (for such
she was), "and I learnt from my chickens that you had
come to one of their homes, so I came to cheer you up, and
tell you not to be downhearted, for I know all about you.
Will you come with me, and I will show you my Palace
of Pearls ?"
"I can't come for long," replied Jan, "for I must not
leave my mother."
"I like you all the better for that," smiled Mother Carey,
" but you shall come back whenever you like; so come, my
boy, and learn something of the bottom of the sea."
So saying, Mother Carey lightly touched Jan's ears,
which seemed to him to change into the gills of a fish, while
E 2


he seemed to be shrinking into a very small being indeed.
At a sign from Mother Carey, two sea-horses appeared, and
Jan mounted on one of them-without saddle or bridle-felt
himself sinking down through the clear water out of the
cave, and then away at full gallop across the bottom of the
At last they arrived at what looked like an impassable wall
of rock, but the next instant Jan saw a coral gate, which
swung open at their approach; and then on into a glittering
grotto hung with pearls, which glowed and twinkled like so
many stars, while the floor of silver sand sparkled like
Welcome to the Palace of Pearls," cried Mother Carey,
who gave their horses to a crowd of sea-urchins to be rubbed
down. "This is my reception day, and you shall see my
subjects," she continued, leading Jan to a seat of coral. She
then clapped her hands, upon which a procession of. lobsters
appeared, bearing in their claws all manners of sea dainties,
on many coloured shells, which Jan tasted, as all good-
mannered children should, without asking any question.
"What a lovely life you lead here," cried Jan, "with no
work and all play; and to.live in this beautiful palace. It is
much better than on shore. I wish I could stay, but my
mother would be sad if I never came back."
Now, Jan, can you guess why I brought you here ?"
asked Mother Carey. It was to show you that there is no


happiness with-
out work, and
that everything
has its tasks and
While she
was speaking the
grotto had filled
with a number .I
of new arrivals, .
from all parts of
the sea; who
kept looking at -- ..
Jan as a sort of
curiosity, till he
actually blushed.
"What work we have been having lately!" cried a
smart little stormy petrel (one of Mother Carey's chickens).
" I declare I am quite tired out with racing about in
front of the gales to warn seamen of the danger coming
to their ships; and it is not as if they thanked us for it
I'm afraid we shall have to give up the North Pole at
last," sighed a beautiful polar bear, wiping away a couple of
salt tears; for those wretched, restless, human beings will
not let it alone, and are going to try to fly through the air in


a balloon to get at it, and all our work in keeping it clean
will be wasted."
Yes, that is certainly annoying," sighed a seal, with
large wistful eyes; "but, oh! to think of my trouble. Why,
only the other day my poor little baby was sleeping on an
ice floe, and some horrid men knocked it on the head, and I
heard them say that its little skin would help to make a fine
jacket for a lady., Lady, indeed! as if it were ladylike to
wish to wear more than one skin at a time," and the poor seal
burst out sobbing.
Jan felt very much like crying himself at the seal's story,
and kept on swallowing a lump which would keep on rising
in his throat, and Mother Carey, seeing him thus, took him
by the hand and led him into a beautiful coral chamber.
So you see, dear boy, that every one has their troubles,
and every one has their work, too," she said, kindly. Look
at this coral reef. Do you think it was raised by magic ?
Oh, dear no, this is the work of millions of little workers,
who spent their lives toiling hard without grumbling, and
died while doing their duty."
"If you please, Miss," whispered Jan, "I'll never be
downhearted or discontented again, for everybody seems to
have some trouble; and, please, may I go home and begin
my work at once ?"
Yes, Jan, and take this little present home with you,"
replied Mother Carey, who, after placing a small box in his


hand, called a nauti-
lus which was pass-
ing, and kissing Jan
on the forehead,
seated him in the
shell and wished him
a pleasant passage
home. I -

Mother Carey
might have put a
cushion .in this _1 _
shell," muttered Jan,
who was feeling very cold and stiff; and then he looked up,
and found to his surprise that he was not in a shell at all,
but was cramped up on the ledge in the cave, with the
moonlight streaming in through the opening.
He looked round for his little box and, sure enough, on a
ledge above his head there was a box or casket which he had
not noticed before. The dingy was floating in the pool, and
Jan, having stowed his box under the seat, sculled out into
the moonlight, not quite sure whether he was awake or still
Bless the child, where have you been ? cried his mother,
as Jan, cold and tired, crawled into the cottage at daybreak,
with the box under his arm.


Been, mother ?'
why, to Davy Jones'
Locker and the Pa-
lace of Pearls, along
with Mother Carey;
and see what I've.
brought you from
Don't talk non-
e sense, child," cried
his mother but sit
down at once and get
something to eat;" which Jan was very glad to do, for his.
meal at Mother Carey's did not seem to have kept him froni
feeling hungry now.
When the box was opened, it was found to be full ofjewels.
X Where did ye get this, Jan ? sharply asked his mother;.
and then Jan told his story.
You've had a better night's find than your poor father
ever had, my boy," cried his uncle Roger, for these are
Lady Vere's stolen jewels, for the discovery of which there
is 100 reward. The thief must have known of that cave,.
and hid them there till the hue and cry had passed a bit."
And so it turned out; and when Jan and his mother went
up to the Hall, and Jan told how he had found them, her
ladyship smiled and said :-


Well, I must certainly believe in Mother Carey after
this, and you will, of course, for she has made you a present
of a hundred pounds to start with."
So her ladyship placed a nice new crisp banknote in Jan's
hand, with which he. was able to get his mother many
comforts, besides a most magnificent Christmas dinner, and
many things besides.
Ever since that night Jan has prospered in the world.
Some say that it is because Mother Carey has taken a fancy
to him, and, perhaps, this is true; but he is never dis-
contented with his lot,
and no matter what diffi-
culties come in his way
-and we all have them
-he works on with the
determination to do his
best and conquer them.
He remembers his visit
to Mother Carey, and -
the lesson he
brought from '
under the waves.

. ~'
~s~ r\ ,?

" -rOOK, took!" said the brown hen: "I don't object
I to a worm as a relish, but just now I want my
Cheep, cheep So do we," said the fluffy little chicks.
Susie is late," said a corpulent duck, who looked as if
she went on eating breakfast all day till supper came. "The
,children have all bathed, and are starving."
Peep, peep! Here she comes!" cried the hungry
Susie, rosy and fat, and clean and smiling, came running
with the corn, singing as she came, as nice a little girl as the
sun looked down on that Spring day. Not far behind ran
Polly, rosy and fat and smiling, too.
From far corners came, waddling and scrambling, all the
ducks and chickens to be fed.


Where is : .-
Filibuster?" said

spoke there came S

hedge the most "-
beautiful Cock-
a-doodle-do you
*ever saw. He was pure white, with the most lovely curly
tail feathers in the world, a bright scarlet comb, yellow
,eyes, and white fluffy knickerbockers. There was no one in
the yard at all like him. The dear souls were commonplace
people, and all much alike. No one quite knew how Fili-
buster came to be there. Susie's mother one day bought
some eggs at market,. put them under the brown hen, and in
due course ten quite common little chickens pecked their way
out of the shells, and the eleventh was Filibuster !
Every day he grew more beautiful, and Susie and Polly,
who fed the chickens and ducks, and loved each one, loved
Filibuster best of all. He was so very beautiful!
But I am afraid they were the only admirers he had. He
was not popular in the yard. Proud people are never much
liked, and Filibuster was as proud as any peacock, and as
vain as he was handsome.
"Out of the way! Make room for me! Goodness
gracious, you've eaten enough for two now! he said to the


fat duck. "To
4 think that I should
Slive amongsuchun-
mannerly people,"
he cried; and even
Susie, who- loved
him, was sorry to
see how her darl-
ing Filibuster el-
bowed and pushed, and pecked the baby chickens.
Unmannerly yourself! said a large black Cochin Cock,
called Chinese Joe," who was a declared enemy of Fili-
buster's; and he carefully placed his large feathered foot on
Filibuster's slender white claw, which made him jump.
Susie," said little Polly, "don't you think Filibuster is
just lovely, look at him now. I am sure he must get first prize
of all !"
We shall see," said Polly.
At last he was to see the world, and, what was a thousand
times better, the world was to see him! For there was to be
a great Poultry Show, he learned, at a "Palace too, and
he, Filibuster, was to go.
Next day he went off in a hamper. I am sorry to say
Chinese Joe crowed triumphantly as the cart and Filibuster
disappeared, and said: I, for one, don't care if he never
returns." And all the little chickies and ducklings hopped

baskelfu I

of corn for Ite chicks 4

And little pickings for

lii-le dicks.

ji. Q


< ^';"


and tweeted and wriggled for joy, Filibuster was so unkind
to them, and had such a sharp beak.
Not many days after, Filibuster came back. Susie and
Polly were wild with joy, for at the great show, among
thousands of birds, Filibuster had got Champion Prize of all.
It was indeed a triumph.
In the yard there was little pleasure, but'a great deal of
,curiosity over Filibuster's return.
He was at once surrounded by a crowd of anxious ques-
tioners. What was it like?" Who was there?"
" Hadn't anyone wanted to buy him ?" (this from Chinese
Joe). What did he have to eat ?" (asked the fat duck);
and so on, and so on.
"Don't all speak at once, and I will tell you," said Fili-
buster, grandly and graciously. "It was a beautiful show.
Thousands of elegant lady and gentlemen birds, such as you
have never seen, all arranged in rows. Ducks as big as
geese, and geese as big as sheep. Fowls of all colours,
shapes, and sizes. The Palace is a beautiful building, made
of glass, and enormous. Of course, I had a good place. On
one side of me was a Duchess' hen. She said at her home
all the drinking-pans were pure gold, and they had six meals
a day. On the other side was a pale, proud gentleman, with
a whity comb and half-shut aristocratic eyes. He had a
genteel appetite, and never spoke. I fancy he belonged to a


"I've heard enough of this," said Chinese Joe, strutting
off, I really don't believe half of it."
"Well, Mr. Filibuster," said a dear little bantam pullet,
" aren't you glad to come home to Miss Susie and Polly, that
love you so? "
"Not a bit! said he. "They are nice children, I allow,
but I am, as I often told you, far too good for this pokey farm
yard. Some day I shall fly far away, and you will never see
me again Cock-a-doodle-do !"
But in two or three days' time Filibuster had lost all his
proud looks, and a good deal of his beauty. He was very ill.
His comb was no longer crimson, but pale and sickly ; his
tail dropped, his feathers looked askew, and his crow was
gone. He shivered and sneezed, as he sat in a corner.
Susie and Polly were much distressed.
Very soon sneezing and coughing was going on all over
the yard, every bird looked more or less wretched, and a lot
of the babies died.
"It's my opinion," said Chinese Joe, hoarsely, "that Fili-
buster brought home some complaint from the show. I
fancy that 'pale, proud gentleman' he talked about, with the
half-shut eyes, was diseased!"
It was wet weather, too, which made matters worse. Susie
and Polly were busy, indeed; they felt like hospital nurses,
and there were some sad little funerals of baby chicks to be
conducted, too.


At last mat-
ters mended. --
The sun shone,
the fowls all felt f h
better, and the bt p
ducks resumed
their splashing muc e
in the pond. Fili-
buster came out
for an airing at noon, quite the invalid, in a flannel jacket
Susie had made for him. He was not a favourite, but
everyone felt sorry for him.
"Better leave shows alone, old boy," said Chinese Joe,
"and stay at home and teach us manners."
I hope you're better, sir," said the bantam pullet; 1 you
don't look like yourself yet."
Filly, my dear!" said the brown hen, "pride comes-
before a fall."
Filibuster was much enraged; "old boy," indeed, from
Chinese Joe, and patronising advice from a hen! Choking
with anger, he said some very naughty words, and hobbled
back to the kitchen.
In time, however, he was quite well, and vainer and more
disagreeable than ever. Chinese Joe thought at last he could
endure it no longer.
One day, he suddenly saw Filibuster standing on the edge


of a half-full tar-barrel, left open by mistake. He flew beside
him and began to whisper: Filibuster, I say, my lad," mean-
while, edging closer and closer, till in one minute the poor
beautiful vain white bird was struggling in the black tar!
You may imagine how he looked when he came out, and
you know for yourselves how difficult sticky tar would be to
get off his feathers.
At last his pride seemed humbled, indeed. So quiet he
grew that wicked Chinese Joe repented, brought him all his
finest worms, and indeed, before long, the two became the
best of friends.
Filibuster is now a patriarch in the yard, and beloved by
every one. He finds it is better to have many friends than
just fine feathers.

FL Fuller

tRv, (X ozc


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