Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Young folks' companion
 Back Cover

Title: Young folks' companion for rainy days and pleasant hours
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00087372/00001
 Material Information
Title: Young folks' companion for rainy days and pleasant hours
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 25 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Lothrop Publishing Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: Lothrop Publishing Company
Place of Publication: Boston
Publication Date: c1898
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 -- 1898   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1898   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1898
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Statement of Responsibility: fully illustrated.
General Note: Date of publication from t.p. verso.
General Note: Contains prose and verse.
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00087372
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002225291
notis - ALG5563
oclc - 08365452

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Front Matter
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        Page 4
    Title Page
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    Young folks' companion
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Full Text

B- ST C ~

r- '
^ *I


1. i;


~ s::

TIE ~P~ .








ONE day Fritz went in town with papa. They were late, and had to
run for the train. Fritz stopped to bark at a squirrel in a show-window,
so papa came home without him.
Oh didn't I cry when I thought I'd never see my little Fritz again.
Arthur cried, too, but he doesn't want me to tell anybody.
Well, papa comforted us, and told us that our dog wasn't lost, for he
knew the way up to Uncle Win's office, and he guessed when Uncle Win
came home that night, we'd see Fritz skipping along beside him.
But what do you think ? When the new conductor came up from the
two o'clock train, he brought Fritz in his arms. Nobody put him
aboard." He went to the station alone, and found the right car himself.
Everybody laughed when Fritz walked in and took a seat. He sat there
until the brakeman called, Elmwood Elmwood Then he looked out
to make sure the brakeman was right, and whisked off the train.
But he can't ride that way any more. Next time he'll have to pay
his fare like the other passengers. The conductor said so.
Emma Frances Jerome.



SAID Bessie to May
While playing one day,
SAren't you glad Christmas soon will be herte?
Such a fine lot of things
Santa Claus always brings!
I wonder what we'll have this year."

Then May said to Bess,
"Poor Santa, I guess,
-Won't have time to make presents for all;
So let's you and I
Make some gifts, on the sly,
To leave where Santa can't call."

Then Bessie and May
Sewed and sang day by day,
"Ring sweetly, ring loud, Christmas bells !
For love and good-will
Are here with us still,
Ring sweetly, ring loud, Christmas bells! "
Lilla Barnard.



S Georgina aged eight, and Dolly aged
four, stood"looking out of the upper half
of the sitting-room door, which was all
window; a sleighload of big boys went by.
S They blew on tin horns, waved flags and
yelled like young Indians. Dolly liked
the noise. It was January first.
Is that what it's holler for?"
asked Dolly.
S"Holler what?" asked Georgina.
"What's holler ?"
"Why, holler 'day! exclaimed Dolly. "Don't you know papa
doesn't go to the store because it's a holler-day? "
Georgina looked at her sister with an expression of great wisdom.
"0, my, Dolly, you've got it very much mistaken It isn't holler,
it's hollow. New Year is a hollow day."
"Is it?" said Dolly. "I wish it wasn't."
Whyjdo you wish it wasn't ? asked Georgina.
"Because," said Dolly, "I thought if it was a hollerday we could
holler the way the boys did. I thought that was the reason they did."
"That's so, we could," said Georgina, half-regretfully. "But it's
only a hollow day."
Well, then, what's hollow ? asked Dolly.
"Why, hollow is empty -not anything in it," explained Georgina.
" I suppose that's why we call New Year a hollow day."
Isn't there anything in New Year ? asked Dolly anxiously.
Not much by the side of Christmas. Then you have dolls, and books,
and games, and rings, beside the tree. And .all you can do with cards
under your plates is to put them where they won't get dirty."


At that very minute Mrs. Pettitt was in the kitchen stuffing a turkey
for dinner, and when it was ready for the oven it was not hollow by any
means. After the oven door was shut, she went into the cellar with a big
basket a hollow basket. Not many minutes later she came up with the
same basket. It was not hollow then. If you had looked in, you would
have seen apples, turnips, potatoes, a bowl of jelly, and a big piece of beef.
On top of these things Mrs. Pettitt laid a paper bag of cookies and crack-
ers and another of popped corn. Then she told. Mr. Pettitt that now they
were ready to take the basket and call on Mrs. Lee.
Mrs. Lee was the woman who washed for Mrs. Pettitt. She had five
little children, and she had to do a good many washings to take care of
them. The Lee family were black as black could be.
A Mr. and Mrs. Pettitt, with
Georgina and Dolly, rode up to
Mrs. Lee's while the turkey
was cooking. They all went in.
The basket went in too, and
perhaps the Lees were gladder
to see that, than the four who
brought it. Though they were
glad to see the four, too.
Mrs. Pettitt was attracted
S to one child more than to the
F' 4 rest. He was Clarence, and he
had the brightest eyes, the whit-
J 1 est teeth and the jolliest smile
you can imagine. Mrs. Pettitt
Stalked to him and his mother
S U----:-J-2i' was so pleased she asked him to
TI BASKET FR ." dance for the lady."
The audience was highly pleased. Mr. Pettitt found five cents for the
dancer, and a penny for each of the other children. They all gave tLeir
money to their mother to put in the bank. The bank was a rickety tin
elephant on the clock shelf, but it could doubtless hold all the riches the
Lees could save.


I'm dretful thankful," said Mrs. Lee as the Pettitts were going.
"I was kind o' blue before you come. The baby fell out the high cha'
three or fo' days ago, an 'es 'ad a misery in 'is 'ed ever sense, an' the
med'sin cos' a good deal."
She said she was blue," Dolly remarked, going home, G" and she's
Mrs. Pettitt explained that Mrs. Lee meant she felt mournful, and told
the children they must look up some books and toys for the Lees, and she
would find a pair of better shoes for Clarence.
There was no company at their New Year dinner
which was a fine one. Dolly was rather glad. She
thought there would be more for her and she felt.very
hungry. But, do her best, a good deal of dinner was
left. ,
"It doesn't feel like a -very hollow day in my
stomach," said Georgina.
Nor mine don't," said Dolly.
Mrs. Pettitt did not understand this, but Mr. Pettitt
did. He had heard the talk by the window in the morn-
ing. He told his wife the holler" and hollow" CLARENCE DANCES.
day ideas as soon as he could without letting the children hear him
That night when she put them to bed, Mrs. Pettitt said :
We have had a nice, quiet holiday. And before you go to sleep I
want to tell you what a holiday is. It is a day when people stop their
usual work, and rest, and enjoy themselves as they like best. Christmas,
Memorial Day, Fourth of July, and Thanksgiving are holidays."
Why, I thought it was hollow," said Georgina, surprised. "Any
way, they're splendid, I wish they came every day. Don't you, Dolly ? "
But Dolly who always dropped asleep in a minute, if she were over.
tired, only snored gently, and Mrs. Pettitt and Georgina saw that she
could not now say what she thought or wished, and had even forgotten
her prayers.
I'm awful sorry I forgot them,>" she said next morning. But if I
say two prayers to-night, and ask God to please 'scuse me, don't you fink
he will? The Author of Lady Gay.



ALL Italy has her carnival, so of course Nice, a city of France, must
have something much more delightful. It is the Battle of Flowers.
On the appointed day all the fine carriages in Nice appear on the Riviera,
the principal drive; and those who have no carriages appear on the side-
walk. The houses are all beautifully decorated. The carriages and
horses, and even the little donkeys, are all covered with flowers. People
everywhere carry flowers, and many have large baskets full. At two
o'clock a gun is fired from the castle, and then the battle begins.
Every one is against every one else, but their weapons are only flowers.
For two hours the flowers fly in every direction. It is great sport, for you
can throw at any one and hit where you like, F. W. H.



This is the first time I ever
wrote a letter, but mamma said
I might try. I go to school all
the time. Last winter there
were twenty-two in our class.
Mamma promised me ten cents
every time I went to the foot.
I studied good and did not miss,
and sometimes I went above
others, and when the term was
over I had one dollar. Ma said
I might do as I pleased with
it, so I thought I would like to
take a book, as she did; so ma
scnt to get "Pansy," "Baby-
land," and LITTLE MEN AND
WOMEN. Ma thought Pansy"
was too old, and "Babyland"
was not old enough, but LITTLE
MEN AND WOMEN was just right,
like Silver Hair and the Three
Bears. This winter I am in a
higher room. We study arith
metic, reading and spelling. I
like my new teacher. I have
THE LITTLE WOMAN WOHO WROTE THE LETTER. eighty cents already, so I am
sure I can get my book another
year. Then ma says I may take the "Pansy." I wonder if any other
little girls get their books as I do? What one do you take ? Come and
see me next summer. Good-by. Your Cousin Grace.


OF all the things I would like, New Year, I wonder what you will bring
A tiny watch, a music-box, or a ruby finger ring;
A furnished house for my dearest dolls there are ten of every size -
A kitchen where I can wash and scrub, make bread and tarts and pies;

A little canary to sing to me I would love the darling so !
A pretty dog for company wherever I wish to go;
A pony that would be best of all with a cart that would carry five;
I know just four little other girls whom I would take to drive.

Nell and Bess are my dearest friends, always loving and kind;
Grace what a pitiful thing to tell poor little Grace is blind.
So bring me a pony, please, New Year, always safe to drive,
With a silky coat and a curly mane, and a cart that will carry five.
Mrs. M. F. Butts.



T was one night when Nurse Powell was putting the
Wentworth children to bed, that a wonderful thing
The Wentworths had been out in the country to
spend Christmas. And it was so cold at Grandmam-
ma's that Nurse said they all, from Robbie down,
must wear their all-wool flannels.
Lillie began to get ready for bed in her own room, but she felt so tired
she went in to Nurse Powell, the same as Winnie or Baby would.


"You don't 'pear to have a mite of strength," said Nurse, drawing
her flannel vest up over her head.
"What's that ?" said Lillie.
Nurse gave the sleeves an extra pull, and when the woollen garment
fell away from Lillie's warm little arms some tiny sparks went flying along
after it, with a soft crackling noise. They acted for all the world like
little starry fairies, who were trying to get a chance to rest their tiny
feet on Lillie's arm.
"That's Electricity," said
Nurse Powell, taking hold of the
other sleeve, and giving it a quick
little jerk.
"Hear it crackle?" she said,
as another spark flew out. Your
little vest is just alive with it."
Oh said Lillie, is it tb a
same kind of Electricity they h ,ve
in the cars ?
"Yes," said Nurse Powell.
"There isn't but one kind of Elec-
tricity, but it can be put to all
sorts of use.'' LILLIE
"You haven't told it right,
Nurse Powell," Robbie called from his room. "Wool is a conductor
through which the electric current can work."
Then I haven't got any Electricity in me, have I, Robbie," said
4llie, the same as the street cars have when the sparks flash out down
underneath them?"'
Of course a little girl like Lillie could not understand a grown-up science.
"I believe you have," said Robbie, who was wide awake always on
the subject of Electricity. "And I believe everybody has, too. Elec-
tricity is a good deal nore than most folks think it is."
See here, now, Master Robbie," spoke up Nurse Powell, "you go
off to sleep, and let Electricity alone for to-night. Time enough for you
to talk on such a subject as that when you can't wake up the children."


You tell me, then," whispered Lillie, for the baby commenced to
stir, and Nurse said Hush and began to sing softly:

"By-lo, swing low swing low low low;
Baby is going to By-lo land, By-lo land,
And of babies he'll meet a gay little band,
All swinging low, low, low By-lo.

"Run right into your room, like a good girl," said Nurse, when she
had finished her lullaby song, and don't talk any more to-night.
"You mustn't ask me about Electricity," she said, as she tucked Lillie
into her snug little bed. Uncle Jim is the one to tell you about that.
I know this much: like everything else in nature it is subject to law
-the law of attraction and repulsion.
Your 'brother Robbie declares that Electricity has just as much to do
with the bubbles that we saw floating on the water last summer, when we
went down the harbor on the big steamer, as it does when put to the use
of running the street cars; but I don't know about that.
"Some cold day you rub Tabby's fur the wrong way, and see how the
parks will fly."
Nurse bent over to kiss Lillie good-night.
"But you must remember, darling," she added, giving her cheeks a
loving pat, that you have to study into the doings of Electricity, and
find out the way to put this power into use. That is what all the wires
you see overhead, on the street-car tracks, are doing. They are putting
Electricity to use.
"Listen, dearie," said Nurse, giving her another good-night kiss-
she had staid so long, it seemed to her that she must say good-night over
again. "I know a story about a giant, and I'll tell it to you the next
Children's Evening. He's introduced himself to-night."
"Nurse," said Robbie, come here.
"I can tell you the name of that giant," he whispered, as Nurse went
into his room. It is Electricity."
Sh said Nurse, putting up her forefinger. "You mustn't spoil
the story by telling beforehand."
Greta Bryar,


PRETTY things, 0 what are these ?
Much more than twelve or twenty,
Not a little man but sees
They're Christmas toys a-plenty.
What is this, with cheeks of rose,
And eyes so blue and jolly?
Every little woman knows
It is a Christmas dolly.
Look again a book-leaf bright,
Where words, lines, verses mingle;
It may be our dear ones night
Enjoy a Christmas jingle.
Lavinia S. Goodwin.



When I went down to my cottage, at
all my pets with me.

I AM going to tell you a true
story about my Pussy.
I am sure every little man
and woman who will read this
story, loves dumb animals, and
is sorry that they cannot, like us,
talk about their troubles, and
tell us when they are hurt, or
need our help.
But my Pussy found a way
to make me understand, as you
will see.
the seashore, last summer, I took

F- WIM, R-'

s~-~ `i

* 12xE~



One of them is a pretty young Pussy. Had she been an old kitty, I
do not believe she would have done what this foolish little cat did.
But you shall hear the story for yourselves.
One morning I was lying in the hammock, enjoying a nice swing. It
was very quiet all around me, while off on the water there was hardly
breeze enough to move the boats that were floating over the smooth bay.
There were no street noises to be heard, anywhere, but once in a
while I caught sight of a country cart, loaded with fruit and vegetables,
going along the road.
Pretty soon one passed
the foot of our hill. Just
then I heard a quick, sharp
cry. Was some one hurt ?
I wondered.
I looked in the direction .
from which the sound came, ITT
and there was my Pussy,
holding up one of her paws,
and trying to shake off a live
clam. But the harder the
poor little thing tried to get
rid of the clam, the tighter the clam held on to her little soft velvety paw.
I got up and went to Pussy. She was standing beside a pail full of
freshly dug clams, which some boy who had been down on the beach,
clamming, had left there.
"You poor little thing," I said, taking her up in my arms. I tried
to pull off the clam, but the harder I tried, the tighter he held on to
Pussy's paw.
Pussy was nervous, and I dare say the clam felt nervous, too.
I called the young man who was visiting at our cottage, but the clam
would not let go of Pussy's paw for him, either. So we carried Pussy
into the house, when my guest took a hammer and pounded the clam's
shell until he was glad to let Pussy stop crying and run away.
After that Pussy was careful never to stop and put her paw into a pail
full of live clams. C. P. L.



OW you shall hear a story about a little girl who was
going to have a Christmas-tree, and forgot all about it.
S Her name was Bergit, and she lived in a far-away
land up by the North Pole, where there is snow and
ice almost all the year round. In Bergit's country,
Norway, the children do not hang up their stockings
as American children do, and they know nothing about Santa Claus.
But every home has its gayly decorated Christmas-tree, whose sparkling
candles are lighted on Christmas Eve.
Early in the afternoon of a certain day before Christmas, Bergit and
her little brother Alf thought they would go out coasting on Giant's Hill.
i"I am afraid it may storm," said Bergit's mother. "And Giant's
Hill is a long way."
Oh but the coasting is so fine there, mother. And, besides, the
weather couldn't possibly be very 'bad on Christmas Eve. Please let
us go, mother "
The wev-ver couldn't be bad on Christmas Eve," repeated Alf.
"Please let us go, mother!" So, half against her judgment, their
mother said Yes," and the children began to get ready.
Bergit put on her pretty silk-lined hood with the tassels at the back,
and her other warm out-door clothing, while her mother attended to Alf.
First the little fellow's leggings must go on, and the funny stubby shoes
with a ruff of sheep's wool at the top to keep out the snow ; then his over-
coat and red worsted scarf, and his thick little mittens with red borders
around the wrists, and his jaunty cap bound with velvet. Then Alf's
mother kissed him and told him to give a good-by kiss to his grandmother
and brother Peter before he went.
On their way to Giant's Hill, Bergit and Alf stopped at a tiny
weather-stained log house, the windows of which were draped with crisp


white curtains and decked with blossoming plants. The shutters were fas-
tened back, and looked very gay with great red diamonds painted on a
background of gleaming white. This was the home of Bergit's dearest
friend, Selma.
Bergit thought it would be grand fun if Selma could go coasting with
So when Selma's mother said Yes," off they started with great glee.


All was very gay and lively. Alf had a few mishaps, but the girls
cheered him on, and he tried bravely to laugh with them over his funny
tumbles. Every time he fell he seemed to land on that comical little flat
nose of his ; and when they came to the big gate at the head of Long Lane,
which the girls could climb over easily, poor Alf had to creep under, and
his stout little body stuck fast midway. The girls pulled him through,
but his red scarf caught on the gate and was lost in the scramble. Brother
Peter found it some time afterward, a mere rag of a scarf then, and good
for nothing.
Adapted from the Norwegian, by Laura E. Poulsson,



ETHEL and Alfred wanted to "watch the Old Year out and the New
Year in." Mamma said No" firmly, and then Auntie Bird pleaded.
Mamma finally said they might sit up till nine o'clock, and see how sleepy
they were then.
Auntie Bird was only a big girl herself; just the prettiest auntie, too.
Ethel's great wish was to look like her, and Alfred admired her very
Alfred insisted on wearing his hat;. "so I can run out to see the New
Year the minute it comes.'
"Auntie Bird," said Ethel, "what makes New Year's? Why wasn't
it New Year's last Sunday instead of to-morrow? "
Really, children will ask hard questions. The girl-auntie didn't know,
but mamma whispered in her ear to look in an old scrap-book.
Bird was really Bertha, but the name was given when she was a
baby because she cooed so sweetly, and it clung to the sweet-voiced girl
now. Bird read the page to herself, and then she told the children.
"You know," she said, "the earth goes round the sun, and that
takes a year. The moon goes round the earth, and that takes a month.
The moon goes round the earth twelve times while the earth is going
round the sun once, so there are twelve months in the year.
Many.hundred years ago some people called the Romans named these
months January, February, etc. Your birthday comes in February, you
know, Ethel."
Mine isth first day of May," lisped Alfred.
"Yes, dear; auntie won't forget. The Romans were heathen peo-
ple, and it was long before Christ was born. They called January after
one of their gods, whose name was Janus. His image had two faces, one
of an old man who looked backward, the other of a young man who looked
forward. So they chose the first day of January for New Year's Day;
the Old Year looking back over the past, the bright New Year looking
toward the future.



The book says that for many years after Christ was born the Chris-
tians wouldri't take January for the first month because it was named for
a heathen god, but I suppose they decided at last that a name didn't
matter much."
Alfred, was blinking pretty hard by this time, and though Ethel
declared she wasn't sleepy, she "thought she could wait until morning
to see that young Janus."
As for the cat, she didn't care what they called it, as long as she
could lie in Auntie Bird's lap.
Helen A. Hawley.

THE day after Christmas, while prowling about,
A Chimney Elf chanced to spy,
In the chink of a chimney, half in and half out,
A letter laid carefully.
He picked it up with a merry wink
And a nod to himself as he said,
"Ho! ho little letter, you're late, I think,
How came you left here unread? "

Then opening his wallet, he clapped it within,
And up through the chimney wide,
Far over the roofs with a leap and a spin,
To Santa Claus' home he hied.
"A late little letter, Sir Santa," quoth he,
I bring you by fast Chimney Post;
Though Christmas is over, let's read it and see
What one little child wanted most."

Then Santa Claus read, and his eyes grew wide,
While the smile on his face grew sweet,
And looking more closely, the Chimney Elf spied
A tear coursing down the small sheet.
" A letter of thanks cried Santa in glee;
The first of its kind ever penned ;
Of all the little folks gladdened by me,
But this one a Thank you doth send."
Louise Hosea.



THERE are two countries which have seemed almost beyond the reach of
civilized.nations. One is Africa, full of sunshine and brilliant flowers and
grand forests, though Mr. Stanley calls it the Dark Continent. The other
is Greenland a name as perplexing; for, with the exception of a little at
the south, in midsummer there is not anything green in the entire land.
Long before America was discovered Europeans were sending expedi-
tions to Greenland, and ever since brave men have tried to learn more of
that land. A little less than two years ago a party of Americans, under
the leadership of Lieutenant Peary, started upon 'this mission, and the
most remarkable thing about it was that his brave wife accompanied them.
On board a strong little steamer they made their way north as far as
possible, during the summer, and there were left with their stores.
First they built a very strong little cabin to shelter them through the
long months of night and intense cold; for the sun never shines at all on
the north of Greenland except while it is summer here, with us. Then
they hired an Esquimau family to help them. They. purchased a lot of
Esquimau dogs to draw their sledges over the ice. Through the dark
months, while the skies were still beautifully bright with northern lights,
they practiced walking on snow-shoes, driving the dogs in sledges, and
shot seals and walrus and any other game they could, all preparing for the
long journey over land which Lieutenant Peary and Mr. Astrup, with
fourteen dogs, began on the third of May. For fifty days they traveled
northward. Then the coast turned to the east and pretty soon to the
southeast. That was their discovery; and it was one of the most im-
portant discoveries which has yet been made about the Wonderful North.
The geography maps have never had any lines to indicate where the
north of Greenland was, because no one knew where to make them; but
the next maps of Greenland will be very plain, and the next classes in
geography will know more than we did, all because Lieutenant Peary and
his brave wife dared the dangers and made this discovery.
Warren T. Frych.

4 --




WINNIE WENTWORTH was a good while eating his supper, and Robbie
and Lillie were getting impatient.
Nurse Powell had told them that as soon as Winnie went to sleep, she
would come up in the children's room, and begin her story about the
giant. It was Children's Evening.
Hurry, Winnie," they kept saying; hurry."
Baby Wentworth had been in bed an hour or more.
Finally Nurse sent them off, for she wanted Winnie to finish his supper
in peace.
It seemed a long time to wait, but Nurse was ready at last.
Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth always came in Children's Evening, for they
liked the stories Nurse Powell told as well as Robbie and Lillie did.
Before long they meant to bring Winnie, he was getting so big.
The first I knew that Electricity was a giant," said Nurse Powell,
was when I was a child about the size of Lillie.
My brother Roland who was a boy as large again as Robbie-
and I were out in the garden picking currants.
All at once there came a heavy rumbling, and such a rattling you
never heard.
Just hear that old giant,' said Roland. Hark! he whispered,
as I started to run into the house.
"' I sha'n't stay where there are giants,' I told him.
"'Oh! you silly thing,' he laughed. 'Don't you know what
that is ?'
I told him that it sounded like a clap of thunder.
"' That's what folks say it is,' and Roland shook his head, and
looked wise enough, you may believe. But it is the old giant Electricity.
See him wink and he fairly shouted, he was so tickled when a sheet of
lightning flashed right in front of us.


"' I wondered why he did that, if he was a truly giant, and knew what
he was about.
He's clearing up the atmosphere,' said Roland. The earth has
been sending up vapors, or else the wind has been rubbing against the
earth, and taken off a lot of particles that make the air heavy, and
the old giant is moving about. When he begins to stir things have to
stand around, I can tell you. We couldn't take a long breath,' Roland

Lail K. I


declared, if it wasn't for the old giant's clearing up the air every now
and then.'
He said he had three kinds of winks. They were forked lightning,
and sheet lightning, and globular lightning.
When I asked him about the thunder, he said the old giant was
opening and closing his eyes. Of course being a giant, he naturally had


big eyes and big eyelids, and they made all that noise coming together
Mr. Wentworth had to laugh at this odd conceit of Roland's.
He must have been a very clever boy," he observed. What do
you think ? "
The children looked up, and there stood Uncle Jim. Uncle Jim was
an electrician, so he could not help enjoying Nurse Powell's story
I think he must have been," said Uncle Jim.
Wasn't the old giant winking, papa? asked Lillie.
What do you think, my boy? asked Mr. Wentworth, turning te
'Course I know thunder is the sound that goes with lightning," said
Robbie, "but it is the old giant Electricity, just as Nurse Powell's
brother said.
"I think his winking with his great big eyes so we can hear him is
splendid. I shall be glad when summer comes, so we can go out doors
and watch him. Won't you, Lillie ? "
If mamma and Nurse go too," Lillie said.
"I'll tell you something better than that," spoke up Uncle Jim.
"Run in to my shop some day pretty soon, and see what the old giant is
doing down there.
"Let Winnie come too," he urged. "He wants to know what is
going on as well as the rest of you." Greta Bryar.


How we like in wind and snow
And wild winter weather
To hurry down the dazzling street
Flocking close together -
Tall Ned and little Fred -
What a joyous rally !
Plump Mate and slim Kate,.
And black-eyed Sally.


Hark the bell goes kling klang !
From the schoolhouse steeple;
With a skip, hop and jump
Go the little people.
Tall Ned and little Fred -
What a joyous rally !
Plump Mate and slim Kate
And black-eyed Sally.
Mrs. M. F. Butts.


AT just half-past eight you might have seen little Gracie waiting on
her front steps, with her lunch basket. And further down the street
Teddie swung on his gate and waited, too, for Miss Little to take them
with her to kindergarten.
All the way they chattered
and laughed and ran around
all the posts, and walked on.
all the curbings, and Ted
"Say, Grace, do you know
what I'd do 'f I saw a lion? "
"What would you?" A
asked Grace, swinging her
parasol, and peering around
into his face with interest.
I'd just march right up,
an' shoot him dead! shouted
Ted, with blazing eyes.
Oh! you'd be afraid, "
said Grace, with much scorn for so tiny a maiden. I know you would."
"No, I wouldn't," said Ted stoutly. I'd march right up to him."


Yes, I fink you would," said Gracie wisely, 'cause jus' like the
squirrel said, 'I'm not afraid' and,

Bang! went the gun,
And they ran-
Every one '"

0, no said Ted; "I'll show you how it would be," and holding
up his fingers he recited:

Five little squirrels
Sat upon a tree;
This one said,
What do I see?"
This one said,
"I smell a gun!"
This one said,
Oh! come, le's run."
This one said,
Le's hide in the shade."
This one said,
Hm-m I'm not afraid."
B tiig! went the ogn,
And they ran-
All but one.' -
-.. *. .
Miss Little laughed, and said, ".. Pefty good,i-Td."'
But just then a big Newfoundland 'dog 'ame, around the corner.
Now although Ted was not in the least afraid of a lion -so he says -
he didn't like dogs, while Gracie, Miss Little thought, was too fond of them
"My! said Ted, slipping quickly around Miss Little and clutching
her dress, while Grace ran up and threw her arms around him, crying
Nice doggie, nice doggie! want to come to kindergarten wif us? "
Teddie," said Miss Little, after she had warned little Gracie, for
perhaps the sixth time that week, against being too familiar with strange
dogs, "Teddie, you know -

Bang! went the gun,
And they ran -
All but one.' "

Yes," said Ted,- a bit ashamed, but with a twinkle in his big black
eyes; and Gracie was that one." Hattie Louise Jerome


lj/llj I




GEORGINA had entered school the week she was
eight years old. Dolly intended.to go as soon as her
mother would let her. Mrs. Pettitt did not discourage
her by telling her she must probably wait four years
School was not dismissed on Washington's Birth-
day, though it is a legal holiday.. It was to be a
special day, however. The preparations in Georgina's
S room excited her so much that she made a queer
blunder. She was waiting after school for her teacher
to write a note asking Mrs. Pettitt if Georgina could
not recite a poem. Before directing it Miss Snyder
said: What is your father's first name, Georgina? "
SPEAKING HER PIECE. "George," said Georgina promptly, "George
Washington." She meant to say George Pettitt.
Her teacher laughed so much that she made a mistake herself, spoiling
an envelope by writing Mrs. George Washington." So she had to take
Georgina wanted Dolly to go. It will be an awful funny day,"
she said.
Mrs. Pettitt replied that it would be a pity to have Dolly miss a funny
day, and she would go and take her if nothing happened.
Dolly was afraid when she first went into the schoolroom. She
climbed into her mother's lap and hid her face. She wondered why the
children looked at her, instead of at the flags, pictures, drawings on the
blackboard, or at the teacher, or each other.
She did not know that school children like to watch a sweet little
visitor, with a pleasant bright face and curls sticking out of a blue velvet


When it was time to begin, the school sang "Hail, Columbia, Happy
Land." They sang it with so much spirit that Dolly hardly knew
whether to be charmed or frightened.
After that, Mr. Williams, a minister, told the children the story of
Washington, as a child, a young soldier, a great general and the first
president of our country. Among other things he said :
He was a boy, exactly as the boys here are, and he liked to run,
play, leap and wrestle. In Frqdericksburg, Virginia, is a spot by a ferry
where they say he stood and threw.a
stone across the Rappahannock River.
SHe loved to manage fiery horses.,
Once he tried to break a fine colt :of
Shis mother. It reared and fell back,
killing it. As no one else knew
anything about it he could have de-
ceived her. But he owned his fault.
i His mother told him she was sorry
Usher favorite colt was-dead, but was
Sglad her son always told the truth."
/ 1When Mr. Williams's useful talk
/ Iwas done the children clapped their
hands heartily. Four boys then sang
V something to the tune of Yankee
Doodle." They were scared and
/ mixed the words so badly no one
-_ could tell what the song was about.
=-- But any one could recognize the tune.
DOLLY WAS AFRAID. Harvey White, a fat little boy
in a pretty suit of clothes, and a new red necktie, next tried to entertain
the company. He walked forward bravely, bowed and began:

"When General Washington was young,
About as big as I" -

When he got there he forgot the next line. He cleared his throat, and
began again, saying the same words. But he got no farther. He tried


once more. Poor Harvey Only those two lines staid in his memory,
and at last he exclaimed :
Any way, when General Washington was young, about as big as I,
he wouldn't tell a lie."
Then he ran off the platform to his seat, and every one laughed and
cheered loudly.
It was now Georgina's turn. Her name was called, and with very
red cheeks she recited these words in a clear, pleasant voice:

We cannot all be Washingtons,
And have our birthdays celebrated;
But we can love the things he loved,
And we can hate the things he hated.

He loved the truth, he hated lies,
He minded what his mother taught him,
And every day he tried to do,
The simple duties that it brought him.

"Perhaps the reason little folks
Are sometimes great when they grow taller,
Is just because, like Washington,
They do their best when they are smaller."

On the way home Georgina asked her mother if she could hear every
word, and Mrs. Pettitt said she could.
I'm glad," said Georgina. I felt real queer. I couldn't hardly
hear it myself. And I forgot all about I had my best dress on."
Well, how do you like school? asked Mr. Pettitt of Dolly.
Oh some of it I do and some I don't," answered Dolly. I like
flags and fings, and when they sing, and it was awful fun when the boy
kept saying his poem over all the while."
"I should think it wasn't for the boy," said Georgina. "You're
terrible afraid when you speak pieces, and when you forget them probably
you're afraider. Did you ever speak a piece, papa ? "
Once, when I was about eleven," answered her father. "I had
always said I never would, but the rule in the school was, that those who
wouldn't speak could not go into a higher class. So I learned some verses
and wore some new trousers to speak them in. Now your grandma had


made those trousers on a one-thread machine, and when I made a deep
bow, I discovered that one leg was ripped nearly to the knee. And I was
so embarrassed I rushed out of the door, grabbed my hat and ran home."
Georgina drew a long breath.
"Did you get whipped? she asked in alarm.
No; my teacher forgave me when I was sent back to explain. And
afterward I spoke my piece all right."
"Was it Washington's birthday? asked Dolly.
"No; it was only a plain day," said Mr. Pettitt.
That's too bad. Holidays are such funny days."
Think they are, too," agreed Georgina. I am glad there was a
February funny day." The Author of Lady Gay.


A wonderful bird is the Round O Owl,
S' In the alphabet book is his picture found.
And he may be large, or he may be small,
But the O at his side is big and round.
"What is that, darling ?" I ask of Lucile,
Who looks while I point to his place on the page;
That is the Round O Owl," she replies,
And round is the mouth of my quaint little sage.

For the Round O Owl is the babies' owl,
And never a grown man knows his name,
Unless he has learned from a baby's lips
The title which is the proud bird's claim.
And shut up fast in lexicon lids,
I care not how many owls may be,
Nor what they are called by the wise and old;
The Round O Owl is the owl for me.
William Zachary Gladwin.


AINT VALENTINE'S DAY was Dorothy's birthday.
She was ten years old.
.p. For the past week Dorothy had been kept busy
painting little pictures, and gluing bits of lace paper
When her work was finished, she had two lovely
valentines; one for mamma and one for papa.
They found them on their plates at breakfast
time. Mamma's face shone with pleasure, and papa was glad. He
wondered who sent his valentine. But he looked at Dorothy and smiled.
So I think he knew that the sender was his own little daughter.
Dorothy had some pretty valentines, too. But they all came through
the mail, and she guessed the sender of each.
She wanted a valentine from her own mamma, and a valentine from
her own papa.
At five o'clock, when the children began to arrive for her birthday
party, Dorothy felt disappointed.
Each of the children brought Dorothy a valentine.
At half-past six they all went into the dining-room, where the birth-
day supper was served.
Oh! what a lovely bon-bon box," said one of the girls.
And what a large one," cried another.
"Have you seen it, Dorothy?" asked a third. "Look! it has a
card on it."
And oh Dorothy, the box has little round holes in it. See it's
moving. Untie the ribbon, do."
Dorothy unfastened the cover, and out jumped a King Charles spaniel.
"Isn't he a dear?" cried Dorothy. This is my papa's and
mamma's valentine to me. O, girls! let's name him Bon-Bon."
So as Bon-Bon, Dorothy's spaniel is known.
May Bartlett.


P~ : ~ a~e~i~s~a ~;



WE'VE been to the wood where the high snowy arches
Are made by the fir-trees and tall stately larches;
We shook from their branches the fair crystal sheen,
And came back all laden with bright Christmas-green.
Beth Gray.


WHEN Marjorie went to Florida to live in an orange grove, her dollies
went too. The one that Marjorie loved best had golden hair and blue
eyes. Mamma called her La Dame Blanche, which means white lady."
La Dame Blanche always wore white dresses, but the pine wood they burn
in Florida makes very black smoke, and it was not long before the white
lady became yellow and then quite black, like a darky doll; so Marjorie
changed La Dame Blanche's name to Sambo.
Sambo was a great favorite. He did not have-to be dressed up all the
time, and Marjorie could take him out in the yard with her.
One day Sambo disappeared. Search was made for him, but that
night little Marjorie had to go to bed without her dear Sambo.
Sambo had been gone about a week, when one day I heard Marjorie
calling, "Auntie, Auntie tum here, tum here So I ran out, to see
Marjorie pointing to the kitchen roof.
Zere's Sambo," she said; det him down, quick! "
Sure enough, there lay Sambo, with nothing on but his little shirt, and
as black as the inside of the chimney.
Marjorie's brother Albert got a ladder and fetched him down. Mar-
jorie hugged and kissed him, soot and all.
How do you think he got up there, Marjorie ? I asked.




O, Auntie," said Marjorie, I 'spect he went up ze chimbley one
day to find Santa Claus, and couldn't det down any more."
The last time I saw Sambo, Marjorie was washing his face and hands
with butter, to get the soot off. Alice Cowan.

Heigh-ho heigh-ho!
Winter brings the jolliest times :
Books and toys and merry gay rhymes,
Beautiful rides over ice and snow,
On a sled so ready to go;
Our jingle of bells is Heigh-ho -
Boys and girls love winter and snow -
Heigh-ho heigh-ho!
Hal Alstyne.



OH what a noisy place," said Nurse Powell. "I can't hear my
own ears."
Instead of going round to the side door that led into Uncle Jim's
private office, Nurse Powell brought Robbie and Lillie up to the main
entrance, and so took them into the big room where the machinery of the
electrical works was in motion.
But Uncle Jim was watching for them. He came forward, smiling.
Nurse Powell was not expected to hear with anybody's ears but her own.
Come in here," said Uncle Jim, opening a door close by. "I think
it's a great shame you didn't let Winnie come," he added.
"He wanted to come bad enough," said Nurse, "and at first I
thought I'd let him; -but I'm thankful now that the little dear staid at
home, for this confusion would have scared him to death."
Not so bad as that, Nurse," laughed Uncle Jim.
Grandpa's come," spoke up Robbie. He brought Winnie a toy-
magnet- oh! it's a beauty, I tell you. Grandpa says he wants him to
be an electrician, like you."
yes! added Nurse Powell, all at once remembering there was
something she ought to tell. The children's grandfather's here. Come
to spend the winter." And then Nurse remembered that this was some-
thing she ought not to have told, and felt sorry enough. For it was
Uncle Jim's father, as well as the children's mother's father; and
Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth were planning a surprise for Uncle Jim, when
he came home to dinner with the children and Nurse Powell.
"You play you didn't know anything about it," coaxed Lillie, who
saw that Nurse's hasty speech had spoiled everything.
"I'll play," said Uncle Jim, "and nobody will ever be the wiser
about the secret," for all three tried to talk at once, and explain the
mischief that'had been done by speaking about Grandpa's coming.


Just then one of Uncle Jim's workmen looked in. He wanted to
know about calculating -the resistance of the wires he was going to
put up.
Uncle Jim asked him if it was a short circuit or a long one.
The man thought a minute, then he said, It's the same kind of a
job we did over to Meyer's paper box factory, putting in our incandescent
0, well, then," said Uncle Jim, "you must go ahead on the same
"That made you prick up your ears, my little man, didn't it?"
Uncle Jim turned to Robbie, who was listening attentively. "And you,
too, I suppose," he said, as Lillie came a little closer.
See all those wires out the'e ? asked Uncle Jim.
The man did not close the door when he went out, and they could
look right into the big room where the dynamos and the wires and all the
rest of the machinery were.
Well," he said, "now resistance is not subh a big word, after all;
do you think it is ?"
"0, no!" said Lillie. "When the baby began to walk, Nurse
said there must be some resistance, or he would fall downstairs and break
his neck; so papa put a nice little gate across the top stair."
He put a check on the baby," said Robbie.
"That's it, my boy," said Uncle Jim; "that's just what the man
who was in here is going to do with electricity -with the giant Nurse
SPowell told us about; he's going to put a check on him, so he can't
get along any faster than he wants him to. And he manages that by the
kind of wire he puts up for the old Giant to travel through."
But it's only a little piece of the giant, as you might say," ventured
Nurse Powell, as interested- now as the children.
And this set Robbie a-thinking.
See the big engine down there," said Uncle Jim. "The water in
the boiler makes a good deal of steam. That's what drives the dynamos.
The steam is changed to electricity; then it travels along the wires up
there, and we carry it away to be used in electric lamps, or to run the
street cars."


And if you didn't have the wires to show it where to go, the
electricity would run off anywhere it wanted to," said Nurse Powell.
Yes," said Uncle Jim, patting Lillie's cheek.
"Well," said Robbie, I've thought of something." He had been
turning over in his mind what Nurse Powell said. It's the old giant's
breath; that's what it is. He breathes out of the engine, and the
dynamo takes his breath and gives it to the wires. Then see what he lets
them do. Oh! he's a splendid old giant--Electricity is."
Greta Bryar.

re, .



DOWN the street a block or two,
Lives a boy with courage true,
Frank and fearless, brave of face -
All a boy's most winsome grace
Shines reflected in his eyes,
Like two bits of summer skies;
Full of laughter, fun and noise,
Still he's not like other boys.


There's a difference for I know
Oft there comes a crimson glow
To his cheeks -not shame, but 'pride,
When the other boys deride,
When they cry such hateful things,
"Tied to mother's apron-strings "
" He's his mother's little boy "
" He's his mother's pride and joy! "
Yes ; it's hard to bear, I know,
When the boys torment him so.

But he laughs it off; says he:
"Best place in the world to be !
Such a mother's mine's too good
To run out for kindling-wood,
Or to the grocery down the street,
While I've got a pair of feet -
Better'n any other thing
Is my, mother's apron-string "

So the boys go on their way -
" Can't plague Jimmy none to-day -
And off he flies with happy eyes,
To give his dear one some surprise;
And as he looks up lovingly
Into those eyes so sweet to see,
And as he reaches for a kiss
The thought that come to me is this:
Give me the boy whose loyalty
To that dear one is strong and free,
Whose heart is true though boys deride,
And filled with boyhood's finest pride,
Give me the boy whose honor clings
Firm, tied to mother's apron strings!
Harriet Francene Orocker.


WHEN September came, I closed
my cottage and went back to my city
home. Pussy went with me. She
was glad to get back, for she liked to
prowl about the cellar, where the mice
had been enjoying themselves while she
was away.
"SEE THAT CAT!" They could not run about just as
they wanted to, now, for they had to
look out for the kitten. So they used to hide in all sorts of out-of-the-
way places.
By and by I went on a visit to the South. My family went with me,
so there were only the young man and the servants left at home.
Before long, I got a letter, telling me of a curious thing that had
happened there. And it was about my Pussy, too.
Now do not be uneasy, I beg of you, if my story does sound like a
burglar story. For it is not.
My letter informed me that one night or at about two o'clock in the
morning my two servant women heard strange noises in the cellar.
They were afraid to get up and go down stairs alone, and they did not
dare to go to sleep again, either; for some one might, they thought,
be trying to break into the house.
So after listening a while, they got up, and hurried on a few clothes.
Then they crept cautiously along the hall until they came to the room
belonging to the young man who pounded the clam from Pussy's paw.
He made haste to dress, and, taking his dark lantern, these three
people went softly down stairs. When they reached the cellar door, the
young man held the lantern high, that they might peer into the -gloom.
There was no one to be seen, but they still heard the noises.
They kept on to the foot of the stairs, then stopped to listen, and
moved on again.

* ~*. .
..' L: -~




All at once one of the women said : See that cat Her head iA
caught in an empty tomato can, and she is banging it against the stone
wall, trying to get it off."
Sure enough there was the same Pussy who put her paw into a pail
full of live clams, with her head inside the tin can. And she couldn't get
it out, any better than she could shake the clam off her paw.
And as it happened, the same young man who pounded the clam from
'Pussy's paw, had to carry her upstairs in the night, and cut off the tomato
can, for it fitted so snugly there was not room to put his little finger
between Pussy's head and the edge of the opening.
Did you ever know of a kitten having so many curious adventures as
this Pussy of mine had ? C. P. L.


HE bought a little valentine, with a little golden heart,
And a little naughty Cupid, with a wicked little dart.
To her I love a million times more than any other,"
He wrote upon the envelope, and sent it to his mother.
M. F. B.



I DON'T think you ought to tell stories when we are away, Grandpa;
'specially when they're about the giant."
Robbie looked grieved.
"Perhaps Grandpa'll tell it all over again," said Lillie.
"It's the story you told Winnie, sir, while we were down to their
uncle's electrical works," said Nurse Powell. For Grandpa did not seem
to know what they meant.
"Winnie told it to me while I was putting him to bed, and I hap-
pened to speak of it before the other children. That's all."
"I want to know if Winnie remembered it," said Grandpa.
"It appears to me that their uncle might want to listen to such a
story as that," said Nurse Powell, showing by her remark that she was
hoping to.
"It isn't much of a story," began Grandpa. Nurse Powell jumped
up and called Uncle Jim. Then she asked Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth to
come in and hear what Grandpa had to tell.
"Don't you talk of anything but Nurse Powell's giant?" laughed
Uncle Jim.
"I don't believe they have thought of anything else since the giant
introduced himself," said their mother.
"I tried to think of something that would amuse Winnie," said
Grandpa, and as long as the others had gone down to the electrical works,
I thought I'd tell him about the electrical fish Captain Babson brought
"From what place ?" asked Uncle Jim.
Somewhere in the Mediterranean," said Grandpa.
"May I ask the name of the fish? said the children's father.
Captain Babson called them the Electric Ray. I believe they are
sometimes called the Torpedo."


"Now tell us what the electric fish did," said Lillie, impatient to
hear the story.
"First, let me ask how Captain Babson happened to be bringing home
electric fish. I never heard of such a cargo," said Mrs. Wentworth.
The children knew that a cargo meant the kind of goods with which
the ship was loaded.
"The fish were a present to a scientific society. Captain Babson
knew a gentleman who was a member of the society," said Grandpa, so
he sent the fish home by him. The gentleman himself was not ready to
come home.
The fish were put in a big water-barrel. Then a square hole was
cut in one side of the barrel, for the fish
needed light and air, the same as every-
thing else does.
"The men were told not to meddle with
the fish.
All but one of the sailors were shy of
them, for they had heard about electrical \IlinTy
fish before. This man said it was all non- or-
sense about fish having electricity stored orpcdo
up in them. So one day what did he do,
but undertake to pick up one of the elec-e te e y
i r s (Showing where the electricity is stored up.)
tric rays."
"And did the fish hurt the man much, Grandpa?" asked Robbie.
"Did the fish hurt him ?" repeated Grandpa. "You ask your Uncle
Jim if any of his workmen ever undertook to pick up a piece of wire after
the electric current had begun to travel through it, and see what he'll say."
"They have," spoke up Nurse Powell, and paid dear for it."
"So did the sailor pay dear for it," said Grandpa. "His arm
received a shock that he did not soon forget.
But the ship's cat fared worse. Puss was prowling around, looking
for something to eat. You would expect him to run to the barrel, as soon
as he found out that there were fish in it.
When no one was looking, what did he do but sly round to the water-
barrel, and pull himself up the side until he could reach into the hole.


Down went Puss's paw, expecting to pull out a fish. But he gave a
Miaou and a yell, instead. Then he sprang into the air, and dropped
on the deck.
Puss had received an electric shock. As soon as he recovered from
its effects, he sprang up and ran into the store-room. There he staid for
two or three days.
It took a good deal of coaxing, Captain Babson said, to make him
come out on deck again. Every time he went near the water-barrel he
would arch his back, and show his teeth in a very fierce manner. But
he was cured of catching fish out of water-barrels, you may depend."
"I wish I could see an electrical fish," said Robbie.
"I brought you something to look at," said Grandpa, pulling out his
large bill-holder. Captain Babson had their pictures taken."
"Well," said Nurse. Powell, "I'm not surprised to know there are
electrical fish. If electricity could go prancing up and down this little
dear's arm, I don't see why it shouldn't stay right in the fish all the time."
She caressed Lillie. Then she said, "It's past your bedtime, and
Robbie's, too, for that matter. But I suppose you both want to get a
peep at that picture, as well as the rest of us."
Greta Bryar.


q sCqfBt--M jdlP 11~i~~


AREN'T you glad you're bought? asked the Grandmother doll.
Glad? should say I was said the Punch doll.
A lady had just been in the toy store buying presents for one of her
I'm glad I'm bought, too," said the Poodle doll, wagging his tail,
"I'm tired to death sitting on my hind legs on this shelf and only being
dusted once a month."
And you must be glad, too, -aren't you? asked the Grandmother
doll, kindly, of the Japanese doll.
The Japanese doll was baldheaded except for a little black circle of
hair on the top of his head. He was not so old, though, as the rest of the
dolls. But that is the way Japanese people are. The men and boys have
their heads shaved except for this little part, and they braid the hair they
let grow into what they call their queue.
I'm bought, too," said the soft little Sky Terrier doll, in a weak
little whisper, and I'm awfully glad."
I wish you dolls up there wouldn't make such a noise complained
a crusty voice, from a box near by on a back shelf. My leg's broken,
my head's broken and my sawdust is.all coming out. I'm in awful pain,
and you will chatter so !
And I'm sure you've no cause to be so gay," the voice continued.
" You wouldn't if you knew where you are going."
Why, do tell exclaimed the Grandmother doll.
I recognized the voice of the lady who bought you. She's bought
you for her little boy Tommy, for birthday presents-and he's terribly
The Grandmother doll looked worried.
I was one of his Christmas presents last year," said the doll in the
box. "That's why I'm here. His papa sent me here to be mended.
But I know I shall never be myself again."
At this all the dolls began to feel sad. Staying on the shelf and only


being dusted once a month, was better than being broken to pieces and
having their sawdust come out.
The poor little Poodle doll began to cry. The little Japanese doll's
lips trembled.
Because she was the oldest and a Grandmother doll, the poor Grand-
mother doll tried to soothe the other dolls and make them be brave. But
there were tears in her eyes and her sawdust heart was all a-flutter.
And just then the boy came and took all the dolls away.
The next morning they were all tucked into a little bed near a golden
The golden head did not look as though its owner would be so very
cruel. However, after the st ry of the doll in the box, even the Punch
doll's teeth chattered from fear.
But the Grandmother doll gave a little cry of joy.
"Why, this can't be Tommy, that we are going to! It's a little
Why, that's so! said the Poodle doll. "The doll in the box
must have made a mistake "
And that really was the fact.
Hush !" cautioned the Grandmother doll. I think she's waking
Then all the dolls kept very still, though it was very hard to do so,
they were so pleased.
Clarence C. Converse.


Our April went in search of flowers, and when none could be found,
Lay down and cried herself to sleep upon a mossy mound;
Her teardrops changed to violets that hid her form so fair,
Glad children stooped to gather them, and smiling May was there.
L. S. G.


Now the wild birds'
music fills the
S wood,
( And we, with gar-
_0, lands gay,
S Will go tripping and
To welcome in the
Merrily, merrily,
merrily we
Join with the birds
in their May-day
And Spring a sweeter
song ne'er heard,
Than flows from the
heart of child and
MeArrv May, Merry May !
Oh! th, 1;illest month, we children say,
Is mierr., rBet r Ara y.!
Beth Gray.




S- FAR away, upon the Equator,
is a group of islands called the
Gilbert Islands. These islands are
Snot all under one ruler, however,
but each island of any size has
its own government. Apamama is
one of the most important of the
T Gilbert Islands. Apamama has a
population of about seven hundred
people, who supply traders with
copra and sharks' fins.
This is the little Kingdom of
little King Paul. He is only ten
years old, but he has been the king
for almost a year. He is a very
-_ grave and dignified little fellow.
Little King Paul has twelve coun-
KING PAUL. colors, to whom he listens attentively
for several hours each day, and
although these councilors do complain that in spite of all their advice and
wisdom the little King is very apt to leave the council chamber and do
just as he has a mind to, they are very fond and very proud of him.
There was a celebration at Apamama a few months ago, in which some
sailors from a British man-of-war took part and raised the British flag.
King Paul was out in state, dressed almost in European style. But he did
not like his shoes, and in spite of the protestations of thirty or forty aunts,
who are also all very proud of him, he deliberately took off his shoes and
carried them in his hand.
The palace is at Butaritari, the principal place on the island. Like all
the houses, it is built on bamboo posts to keep out the ants and other rep-
tiles. The roof, of palm leaves and rice straw, is very thick, so that the


heat of the sun shall not penetrate, and the sides are made in sections, like
so many Venetian blinds, so that they can all be lifted, through the day, to
admit the breeze.
Little King Paul does not trouble himself to wear a crown; but in his
little Kingdom the little King has about as fine a time as any sovereign in
the world. H. W. F.



FRED pulled out from under the attic eaves, one day, a queer old
machine with two wooden wheels and a forked steel nose.
What is it ? he asked his mamma, who came up the garret stairs
just then for a bag of herbs. Please, mamma, do tell me for what was
this queer old rattle-trap made ? "
Fred's mamma drew it into the light, and brushed away the dust and
cobwebs, but she could not guess what was the machine.



Here is a pen picture of it.
At one end of a plank, sixteen inches long, two wooden standards,
fifteen inches high, are set three inches apart.
A wooden wheel, the size of a tea-plate, and a smaller one above it.
connected by a band made from an old leather strap, whirl between the
standards when the larger wheel is turned by its axis a wooden crank.
A three-pronged steel nose shoots out through the left-hand standard
from the center of the top wheel, and stuck loosely into the slot of a stan-
dard was a little hand shave, with a knife red with rust.
Maybe it's an old turning lathe, or a warping spool winder, or a shoe
peg machine," Fred's mamma. said, creaking the
warped wheels. We will carry it downstairs
and ask grandpapa."
"That? Why, that is my old apple-parer,"
grandpapa at once said when Fred held it
before his dim eyes. "That is the first
apple-parer ever used in this
county, and I made it myself
from one I heard tell of way
off in New York State."
DPAPA'S APPL-PARER Fred oiled the squeaking
wheels, and made straight the bent prongs, and scraped the rust from the
knife of the little shave.
Then grandpapa took a big apple and taught Fred how to pare it on
the queer old parer. He stuck the apple firm on the fork, and held the
shave in his left hand against the apple, while he turned the crank with
his right hand.
The apple whirled with the wheels, and if the shave had not been rust-
eaten, and if it had been held just right, and the apple had been sound
and round, the peeling might not have been gnawed off in uneven mouth-
fuls, as though a squirrel's tooth had run around it.
Fred carried the old parer back to the attic, glad that he lives in these
times when parers are made to peel and core and slice an apple with a
twirl of its wheel.

Clarissa Potter.




THERE were two of them and Georgina and Dolly liked to pretend that
all their presents belonged to some particular day.
One of the March arrivals really was a tardy Christmas gift. It came
all the way from Michigan.
The girls stood by their father while it was unboxed in the barn,
wondering what it could be.
It was mainly composed of a "curly-maple" board, two feet wide
and eight long, polished like glass. When ready for use it stood firmly,
slanted like an old-fashioned cellar door, and a little flight of four steps,
hinged fast, led to the upper end.
The first thing Mr. Pettitt did, after he had adjusted it, was to seize
his daughters, put them on the board at the top of the flight of steps, and
let them spin down the whole eight feet to the barn floor. You should
have heard their screams, which became twice as deafening, when their
papa caught their slender mamma, and served her exactly the same
awful trick.
This new amusement was a parlor-toboggan slide, invented by a
Michigan mother who had noticed how boys and girls like to slide down
things. She had sent one of the handsomely made playthings to Georgina
and Dolly, and they and their small acquaintances had "stacks of fun"' with
it, especially when warm weather came, and it could be set up on the lawn.
It arrived the morning of St. Patrick's day, which chanced to be on
a Saturday, and it was put in the sitting-room where it helped to comfort
Dolly who had wished to go with Nora to see the parade.
Nora had talked to Dolly about the pleasure there is in parades,
parties and various other St. Patrick celebrations.
"Will St. Packrick be there? asked-Dolly.
"Laudys! said Nora, "St. Patrick was dead long enough before I
was born mesilf."


"Why, of course, Dolly," said Georgina, who was listening, "every-
body that has a day, has to be dead. Don't you know- Washington,
and Decoration Day, and the men that made Fourth of July."
"That's so," said Dolly. I never fought of that."
"It's the reward of goodness," said Nora.
"What is- being dead ?" asked Georgina.
Bliss me, no! Havin' a day in honor of you," Nora replied hastily.


"Was St. Packrick good?" queried Dolly, who liked to be exact.
"I should say so!" said Nora. "He killed very blissid snake in
"What is a blissid snake? asked Dolly.
Nora, being a trifle puzzled, avoided an answer, by saying:
"Now, if you don't bother me wid my work, an' your ma'll let you,
mebbe I'll take you to see the p'rade."
"Oh! can I? And Georgina?"
But Georgina hastened to say: "Oh! I'm going to do something
different. Were there many snakes, Nora? "


Thousands," answered Nora briefly.
"How'd he kill them ?" asked Dolly.
"HIow do I know?" returned Nora, rather impatiently. "Didn't I
say he was dead long enough before I was born?"
"Long enough for what? asked Dolly.
Nora made no answer.
"I should think he would be dead," said Georgina. "Killing snakes
can't be very healthy."
As an amusement for Dolly, the parade did not meet the approval of
Mrs. Pettitt. So Dolly staid at home, and the toboggan-slide helped her
to forget her disappointment.
But, as if one Christmas gift was not enough
for March seventeenth, there came to the door,
soon after dinner, the driver of a big express-
p/^5 .. wagon. In his hand was a package directed to
Georgina. Mrs. Pettitt let Georgina sign her
1' name in the expressman's book, and they then
Opened the box. For .it was a box.
/I ii Both children jumped back when the contents
/ \\ '" were exposed. "What is it?" Shut it up
I quick!'' Will it bite ?" What's sticking
out of its head?" "Who sent it?" These
were a few of the questions and exclamations.
It can't hurt you. It is a horned toad, and
I presume Edgar sent it," said Mrs. Pettitt.
THEIR LAST GIFT. He promised you one."
Edgar was second cousin to the children and
lived in California, and he had successfully sent a horned toad to New
York State.
The toad was a popular menagerie in the neighborhood for many days,
but as the children were afraid to care for it, and there was no very good
place for it, it was finally presented to the Y. M. C. A., as an addition to
its collection of small alligators, of lizards and the like.
IMrs. George Archibald,
Author of Lady Gay."




THE King of the Nuts, so good to eat
For either the boys or Bunny,
Safe in a strong box kept his meat,
As misers do their money.

He never worked for his hoarded store,
Yet it grew and grew the season;
Sun, dew and rain gave more and more,
Nor ever were asked the reason.

When autumn painted the green leaves brown,
Night winds to the branches creeping,
Rattled the nutty harvest down,
With the children soundly sleeping.

The King of the Nuts felt sad and sore,
And we thought we heard him crying,
"Ah I am robbed of all my store,
And what is the use of trying "

But when, at the firesides, merry bands
He saw roasting nuts with laughter,
His sorrow fled, he clapped his hands,
And was happy ever after.
L. S..


WHEN I was a little girl," said Grandma, "we had very cold
winters. I had to walk a long way to school, and often got very, very
cold- so cold that sometimes I cried because my hands ached so hard.
One bitter cold morning I was starting for school, and almost crying
because I dreaded the cold so much. I was dressed very warmly, but I
knew how cold my fingers would soon become. I wish I had a muff,'
I sobbed.
"'Here, take this,' said my mother, handing me a smoking hot
buckwheat cake right from the griddle. 'This will keep your hands warm
better than any muff.'
I seized it eagerly, and almost all the way to school it kept my
hands warm. I ate a bit of it now and then, and finished -it just as I
reached the schoolhouse door.
After this, on cold mornings, I often took one or two large hot
buckwheat cakes to school with me, and thought that they made just the
nicest kind of muffs." Lizzie Bobinson.




Miss Sallie Lunn
Was given a bun,
And, better to enjoy,
She crept alone,
Like dog with bone,
Where no one could annoy.

When all around,
Without a sound,
A band of robbers gay,
With outstretched paw,
And hungry jaw,
Did coax it all away;
She had forgot the saying old :
Shun woods in March when hares are bold."
E. S. T.


BiJou is a small pug with a very black nose and a very curly tail; just
ugly enough to be admired for his ugliness. He used to be considered by
every one, except his mistress, a very stupid little fellow. He did not
like children, and was not at all playful. He spent most of his time
looking out of the window and barking at cats.
Now this story will show you how sadly he was misjudged, and what
a really intelligent, bright doggie he is.
His mistress was married and went to live in another house on the
same street, about five blocks away. She took Bijou with her, of course.
But the dog still liked his old home, and regularly every morning after

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breakfast he went back there to make a visit, always returning to his new
home before dinner.
One day his mistress was sick and wished to send a message to her
mother. How could she send it? There was no one in the house but
herself. Suddenly she thought of Bijou's daily visits to his old home.
Why might he not be her messenger? So she wrote a note, pinned it to
his harness and started him
off. In about half an hour
here came the little letter- 1
carrier trotting down the street
with another note pinned to
his harness. He begged to--
be let in the house, and when
his mistress unpinned the note ,^ ..
--which was a reply to the A
one she sent -and petted him, '
he expressed his delight in sJoU.
every way he could.
Since that day he has been a regular letter-carrier between the two
houses. After breakfast, when he gets ready to make his call, he
presents himself to his mistress and barks and begs until he gets his
letter. When she lets him out he starts off like a real postman, never
looking to the right or left nor stopping to play with the dogs he meets.
He always insists upon having a reply to his note -which is often
only a piece of white paper -and almost any morning one may see this
cunning little Pug postman, trotting gravely along the street with his
letter. Alice Cowan.

A LITTLE bird, like a bit of the blue,
Dropped down from the sky to sing;
Blithely it sang, and the soft winds blew,
The warm rains011, and the green grass grew,
And the children cried, 'Tis spring "




F you could only have seen Alf coasting He
had no more idea how to steer than a.kitten,
Sbut scraped both feet along the ground the
whole time. He would start at the top of
the hill and go down a little way, slewing
to this side and that, and then whirling round
S: and round like a top. By and by, over he
y/ would go into the snow, slipping off the sled
like a rolly-poly; but up he would pop again
as quick as a wink, flop himself down on the
sled and coast away, slewing and whirling
until the next tumble ; and so on to the bottom of the hill.
After a while his feet began to grow cold, and he complained to Bergit
that there were stones in his shoes that hurt him. He didn't know that
it was only his own cold little toes that were hurting him.
However, Alf enjoyed himself very much indeed, in spite of all his
mishaps, and so did Bergit and Selma. They had forgotten all about the
threatened storm. Long before they noticed it, the air was white with
Oh said Alf, stopping at length all out of breath, "the snow is
getting down my neck."
Why, it does snow exclaimed Bergit. Did you ever see
anything like it ? "
"And it is so cold, too; I am freezing," said Selma. "Let us
hurry home as fast as we can. I do believe it is after supper-time
Yes; let's go home. I'm tired of coasting," said Bergit.
I'm tired of coasting, too; and I wish I could get the stones out of
my shoes," faltered Alf.


"Hurry up, Alf! said Bergit, beginning to run.
SYes, I will hurry," said tired little Alf. "Let me take hold of your
hand. Please,, Bergit."
But Bergit had stuck both hands in her coat pockets to keep them
warm, and she pretended not to hear what he said.
Alf's lip quivered, and Bergit heard him trotting faster and faster after
her as she continued to run.
Make haste, if you want to see the Christmas-tree she called.


Just then Alf slipped upon the frozen snow and fell. He got up as
soon as he could, and hurried forward, calling, O, Bergit, come back !
Wait for me I want to tell you somefin' nice, Bergit."
He could not see Bergit now, but he called out still again: "I will be
a good boy, Bergit. Oh! oh!. oh! Why doesn't some one come after
But no one came, and Alf began to be very cold.
Adapted from the Norwegian, by Laura E. Poulsson.



IT is a mistake to suppose that wild animals can only be trained by
frightening them with clubs and red-hot irons. The famous Carl Hagen-
beck is the largest dealer in wild animals in the world. He recently
exhibited a collection of them in Crystal Palace, England, which was the
best proof of what could be done by kindness and patience'.
All in one cage there were two lions, two tigers, two leopards, two
cheetahs, a black bear, a white bear, and two huge boar-hounds.
He brought them all up together, and called them his" Happy Family."
They would walk about on rolling globes, ride tricycles, play seesaw,
draw one of the lions about in a coach while the hounds acted as footmen,
and do many other things, always closing the entertainment by making a
pyramid tableau, with the white bear on top, then the cheetahs, tigers
and leopards, while the lions lay on the floor; the black bear sat upright
between them and the hounds sat on either side. And the great trainer
accomplished it all by kindness. W. H.

i-1 -,.

:. 1



. -- Am. :




THE Wentworth children were going a-Maying. In Nurse Powell's
home in Cornwall, England, they make much of May-day, so she liked to
observe the custom.
Aunt Nell was visiting them, and she wanted to go to the woods with
Nurse Powell and the children, too.
There was a nice fresh breeze blowing, and just sunshine enough to
brighten up everything.
"You were- a May Queen once, wasn't you, Nursie ?" Lillie asked,
as they walked along, "and wore a crown."
"Yes, indeed," said Nurse Powell, and a beautiful crown it was,


What was it made of? asked Robbie Wentworth.
Flowers," Nurse told him.
"Do they have May-Queens now?" said Robbie; "in England,
I mean."
Robbie is a boy with true American notions, and so sees little use for
queens; and as for crowned heads, he declares it is all nonsense. But
anything that made Nurse Powell happy interested him. And May
Queens, he reasoned, were very likely different from any other kind of a
"I guess they do," she replied. "May-day is a gala day, in my
home. There are parades, and the children ride about in all sorts of
vehicles. The month of May belongs to the children, in my opinion,"
added Nurse, "but the old Romans believed it belonged to old men."
I think it belongs to the children," spoke up Lillie.
"So do I," agreed Aunt Nell, who was leading Winnie Wentworth.
"'When I was no bigger than he is," she said, looking down at her
nephew, "we'children had a May-party, and I was chosen queen, and
wore a crown. Mrs. Livermore was visiting at my mother's, then. Some
of us said we were going to learn Tennyson's May-Queen' by heart. But
Mrs. Livermore told us it was not proper to say we were going to learn
anything by heart. We should say instead, we were going to commit it
to memory."
"You must remember that," said Nurse Powell.
"The old Romans," said Robbie, giving his head a nod, as much as
to say he would, were queer chaps."
"But all the same, they put some good notions into people's heads,"
said Nurse Powell.
Nurse liked to tell their Myth stories; the one about the Goddess
Mia, especially, for whom the month is named. Mia was the mother of
Mercury, and Nurse knew a good deal about her.
Did your brother Roland ever go with you May-days?" asked
Robbie, changing the subject.
0, yes! said Nurse, "but he cared more about trees that had
been struck by lightning than he did for May flowers, or anything else
that was .going on.


"The old giant does queer things out in the woods. Do you know
about the children's giant? asked Nurse Powell, turning to Aunt Nell.
"Yes, indeed; but I thought he was your giant, and not the chil-
dren's," said Aunt Nell.
"He's everybody's giant," said Robbie. Electricity is his name."
"Roland found out that trees were more liable to be hit in the winter
than in summer," said Nurse'Powell.
Robbie wanted to know why.
"It is not easy to tell why," said Nurse. There are some things
the old giant does not see fit to tell anybody, and very likely that is one
of them."
They were just in the edge of the woods. Nurse Powell said she was
glad of it, too, for Baby Wentworth was getting heavy.
"Something else he found out," said Nurse, noticing the big trees.
close beside them. Those with rounded leaves are more likely to be hit
than trees with pointed leaves."
"I see through that," said Aunt Nell. "The points of the leaves:
are conductors. They discharge the electricity."
Robbie and Lillie looked puzzled.
"Why, dears," said Aunt Nell, "certain kinds of wires are con-
ductors for electricity to travel through, you know. There are places over
which the -old giant will not walk. He likes the pointed leaves well
enough to touch them and then. run off into the air or on to the ground.
But the rounded leaves do not have any place for his feet to stand on,
so he slips down against the tree, and then folks say it has been struck by
"I must say that I think the old giant is a funny person to gg
a-Maying," remarked Nurse Powell, putting a handful of blossoms into.
Baby Wentworth's chubby little fist, and no mistake."
"It seems that he goes everywhere that the Wentworth children do,."
said Aunt Nell, sitting down on a big rock, and beginning to weave her
blossoms and leaves into a pretty garland.
"I crown you Queen o' the May," she said, fitting the flowers to
Lillie's head.
Greta Bryar.



AWAY in the Old World there is a queer little town, up among the hills,
where we stopped over Sunday. A. mountain stream dashes through the
town and under an old stone bridge. Sometimes the river rises very high
and even floods the town. Years ago there was such a fearful freshet
that. it almost swept the
town away. On the old
church tower we saw a
marble slab, about thirty
feet above the ground, on
which was written, This
marble marks the height
of the great flood of 1859."
It was higher than the tops
of many of the chimneys,
and it seemed so strange
that we asked an old fellow
about it.
"0, yes!" he said.
"That marks the height of
the flood, but the water did
not go so high as that. At
first the flood-mark was
down here, about five feet
above the street, but the A QUEER LITTLE TOWN.
boys threw stones at it and
hurt it, and as it was a fine piece of marble, we voted to, put it higher
up on the tower, where they could not reach it." Warren H. Frych.

Oh what a breach of etiquette; when Nora tea has poured,
The Paris Doll should rise and sit with others round the board.



'IF you are not tired of hearing about my Pussy, I will tell you of
another adventure that she had.
After she put her head in the tomato can Pussy gave us very little
trouble until one morning we heard her crying piteously. We looked
everywhere for her, but no Pussy could we find. All day we called and
called, and all we could hear were the same
cries that we listened to when first we missed
our unfortunate little cat.
At last, when evening
came Pussy's young master
said he believed she was
somewhere about the furnace.
We all laughed at the
idea, and told him that such
a thing could not be possible.
He talked so much, however,
/ that the young man who had
befriended Pussy in all her
trouble, thought best to go
down cellar and look around.
SWhen they were close to
the furnace, it seemed to-
them that Pussy's cries did
come from the bottom of it.
GETTING FUSSY OUT OF TROUBLE. So there was nothing to
do but tear away the bricks
and plaster around a brick air chamber, from the top of which was a
wooden air box. This air box had an opening outside the cellar wall.
The young man went to work with a will, and before long, out walked
Pussy, no less glad to see us, than were we to catch sight of her.
It must have been that Pussy when she was out in the garden, walked


into the wooden air box, and, not stopping to look around, she tumbled
into the brick air chamber.
But wisdom, you know, comes with age. As Pussy grows older we
hope she will learn to look before she leaps."
C. P. L.


IN Spain papa says castles stand
On every hill-top in the land;
I do not know where Spain may be,
Except that it's across the sea;
But sometimes when in bed I lie,
And not a star is in the sky,
I wish, while "patter falls the rain,
I were a castle-boy in Spain.
Oh I'd have every kind of toy
If I were but a castle-boy;
I'd have a bicycle and gun,
A pony that could swiftly run,
A pretty boat to sail or row,
And if, in winter-time, the snow
Should fall, I'd have the finest sled,
And it should be all painted red.
I'd play and play the whole day through,
And have no work at all to do;
I'd have the nicest things to eat,
And love to give my friends a treat;
I'd be like papa, if I could,
For he is always kind and good;
I'd never cry, I'd not complain,
Were I a castle-boy in Spain.
Clinton Scollard.



IF you lived in Germany, on Easter morning you would be running
about the garden, hunting under the bushes, behind trees and in all sorts
of queer places, for pretty colored eggs which the hares, or rabbits, are
said to have brought there during the night.
Easter is a very important day in Germany.
It is looked forward to by the children with almost as much pleasure
as Christmas.
After breakfast the hunt for eggs begins, and it generally takes a
long time to find them; for hares are shy little creatures, as you know,
and the nests are always very carefully hidden away in the oddest
The children are apt to find the eggs in pretty baskets or boxes; and
sometimes they will come upon a beautiful white sugar hare sitting on a
mossy nest, filled with colored eggs.
Don't you think the German hares are very clever?
Our Easter Eggs verses will tell the story of little gray Bunny better
than I can. I think the German children must be very happy on Easter


Easter eggs Easter eggs isn't it funny?
These all were laid by little gray Bunny.
Crimson and purple, green and bright yellow-
Ah isn't Bunny a clever fellow?

Why doesn't Biddy lay colored eggs too ?
Because if she did there would be so few.
She'd never find time to lay one every day,
If she stopped to mix colors to make them gay.

But Bunny lays eggs only once a year,
And that's always on Easter morning, my dear;
So he colors them brightly in rainbow hues -
Here are a dozen for you to choose.
Alice Cowan.



LOOK on this picture, do, and see
A pattern sweet, of industry.
This little girl has had her play,
And learned her lessons for the day,
And carried Grandmamma a note,
And now she sews a petticoat.

She wears a thimble, bright and new,
Upon her tiny finger, too.
In basket and in needle-case
She keeps her little tools in place ;
For though she is so young, you know,'
Mamma is teaching her to sew.

See how she pulls the needle through,
So each stitch may be smooth and true;
For though the needle has an eye,
It could not see, if it should try,
The way to go; but, oh the eyes
Of this sweet maid are wondrous wise.

And can you guess for whom she makes
This little petticoat, and takes
Such careful pains the pretty witch -
With every seam and hem and stitch ?
Why, 'tis for Miss Malvina Grace -
Her doll with alabaster face.
Zitella Cocke.




"Then can't we do any-
.' fing ?" asked Dolly.
"You can do a good many
things," her mother replied.
"But we can't tie up fool-
Sing fings in paper and put them
on the sidewalk, and hollo
'April fool' to whoever picks
them up, same as Gershom
Brown said he did."
____" No, my dear. That sort
of April fooling isn't nice for
my little girls. Your mamma
doesn't approve of fun that
makes somebody feel bad."
THEY SEE HAROLD COMING. "Will it be any hurt when
Georgina comes home from
school to say, Guess who's been here,' and when she can't, to say
'April fool?' asked Dollie.
"Not a bit," answered Mrs. Pettitt, and then looking out of the
window, she exclaimed, ",Guess who's coming? "
''Nobody," said Dolly. "You can't April fool me."
Mrs. Pettitt laughed, and just then the sound of boyish feet on the
steps outside made Dolly run to see who it was. What was her joy to
see Harold Duane, who had run ahead of Cousin Angie.
Harold was cousin to Angle, and Angle was a young lady cousin to
Dolly and Georgina, and that made Harold seem like relation, too.
O, Harold I'm so glad you came," cried Dolly.
"Tho'm I," answered Harold, who was only five and lisped. He


pulled off his little overcoat, and revealed a cunning, black velvet suit,
with a wide collar at his neck. Dolly regarded him admiringly.
"Sit down in my little rocker," she said. "You must be tired.
It's a good ways to come."
Yeth, it ith a good wayths," said Harold. "But it ithn't tho far
ath it wath the firth time I came."
"Isn't it ?" asked Dolly. What's the reason it isn't, mamma ?"
"It is, really," answered Mrs. Pettitt; only it seems farther the
first time we take a long walk, than it does when we take the same walk
soon again."
"Does it?" said Dolly. "Then we wouldn't get so tired, if we
didn't go anywhere till after we had been before, would we ? "
Mrs. Pettitt smiled and said that was a pretty hard question, and she
thought they would better play something.
So they played fish-pond, catching very large pasteboard fish, an inch
and a half long. They played checkers, too, and when their men were
nearly all jumped, they changed the game to "Give-away," so they
would not be so badly beaten. After that they went out-of-doors to play
with a big kite which Mr. Pettitt had made for Dolly and Georgina.
They carried it between them and then Dolly held it while Harold took
the string and tried to start it by running. But they only succeeded in
dragging it on the ground. This was partly because neither of them
knew how to manage a kite, and partly because there was not a bit of
wind.. They tried a good many times, then went back into the house.
"Well, did you have a nice time? asked Mrs. Pettitt.
"We had a pretty nice time," answered Dolly, "and we would have
had a splendid time, only we couldn't either of us shoot off the kite at all."
Dolly always told about shooting off a kite, and firing off a kite, as if
it were a fire-cracker.
It is too still to fly a kite," said Mrs. Pettitt. "I think it is going
to snow."
Oh do you ?" cried Dolly. Isn't that too bad."
Why, don't you like thnow? asked Harold.
In the winter I do, but in the spring I don't, and now it's spring,"
answered Dolly.


A snow-storm would be a real mean April fool, to-day, wouldn't it,
Dolly ?" asked Angle.
"Yes, it would," said Dolly.
"Well, I like thnow all the time," said Harold, in his droll, slow
little way. "I like to throw thnow-ballth. Thay, Dolly, did you ever
kill a grath-hopper, with a thnow-ball? "
No," replied Dolly. Did you ?"
No, I didn't," answered Harold. But I withe I did."
It was not very long after Harold went home, before Georgina came,
and she had plenty of things to tell about the April fool tricks that had


come under her observation. She talked about them so much that she
and Dolly were much longer than usual eating dinner. After dinner they
followed their mother into the sitting-room, and Georgina said, "Did ever
anything much happen on April-fool's day when you were little? "
"Why, once," said Mrs. Pettitt, "something happened that seemed
a good deal to us. My mother told my little sister that she might go and
play an hour with another girl who lived on the corner below us."
"How old was your sister? asked Dolly.
She was six. After she had been gone an hour and a half I was
sent after her, and she was not there and had not been there."
0, my !." exclaimed Georgina. What did you do? "
"I went back and told my mother, and we all immediately began to


search. But not a trace of her could we get. Then my father was sent
for, and he dragged the cistern with an awfully worried look on his face.
Finally he started out to get the village crier to cry lost child.'"
"How do they do that ?" asked Dolly.
"Years ago, and perhaps yet in small places, a man used to go
through the streets, ringing a bell and calling out Lost child, lost child!'
and then he would shout a description of the child. It sounds very sad,
indeed. It did to us when we heard it that day. He came straight
by our house, and every one ran out to see and hear. Our next-door
neighbors who knew nothing about it ran out, and among their children
was my white-headed sister, who came rushing home in great excitement
to tell us somebody's little girl was lost."
S0, suds Did she truly ? said Dolly.
Of course she did truly, or mamma wouldn't tell it," said Georgina.
"Yes, it is true," said Mrs. Pettitt. And she was very innocent,.
only that she had forgotten herself in her play and overstaid her time.
The next-door neighbor's name was Hoskin, and the people on the coiner
were named Hodgkin, and she had misunderstood her permission, and in
our fright we never thought about inquiring next door. You may be sure
we were pretty happy at the way it turned out."
"Well, it was a good April fool as far as being fooled goes, but it
must have been quite discomfortable," said Georgina.
Mrs. George Archibald.


THE real heart of Fairy-land and the home of fairy lore lies on the
banks of the River Rhine. Fairy tales almost all come from there, and the
little men and women living on the Rhine are so much like the little peo-
ple in the fairy tales that one can hardly tell which is which, or help.
believing that fairy stories are true.
I know a little maid living upon the banks of the Rhine. ..She was
only six years old when I knew her best, and as quaint a little-Fiav as ever


moved in marchen wonders. Her name is Snipschen. It is not her real
name, I am sure, but whenever I asked her she always replied, "Snipschen,
mein Frau." Her home is just across the river from a great city, with
a cathedral and a royal palace in plain view, but Snipschen was not at all
like a city girl. I don't think she ever went to the city except on market
days, when her father, who was a fisherman, carried over all the fish he
could catch, to sell in the public market.
Then she got into the row-boat beside him, all dressed in her Sunday-
best; with her thick wooden shoes that had been washed and scoured till
they fairly shone, and with stockings on for Snipschen never wore stock.
ings except on Sundays and market days- with a curious, tucked-up dress
that made her look the veriest little old lady, and a hood that tried in vain
to control her curling brown hair. She would brace one foot upon the side
of the boat and tug and push on one of the oars, while her blue eyes
danced for joy, though both of her little hands, together, could not have
reached around the oar.
Snipschen's mother did washing for people in the city, and that was
where I met her, first. I used often to see her when I took a walk upon
the river bank, opposite the city. The women all take the clothes they
have to wash down to the river, and there they scrub all day, with plenty
of fresh water at hand, and spread the clothes on the bank to dry.
I began by watching Snipschen trudging up and down from the water,
taking the clothes, as fast as her mother washed them, and spreading them
out to dry. She had no hood and no stockings on, those days. That was
when I asked her what her name was.
One day I found her sitting all by herself in a quiet spot, looking
earnestly into the water. I asked her if anything was the matter, and
she replied, I'm only just waiting for the fairies to come and tell me
something that I want to know."
I thought that perhaps I could tell her, so I said, See if I can't be
a fairy. What is it you want to know? "
She looked up, and said, "Why are the roses red, and why is the
heaven blue ? "
I did not try to answer her, for, to tell the truth, I should like very
much to know myself. Sally Thorndike.

____ -*I


!r a*p*-;


~i~--~--- --



S! I Under the garden wall;
She has crimson silk, and yel-
low, and white,
And pink for those who call.

And oh i such pretty bonnets and capes
As we make, all together- -'4,
Sally, Molly, Hattie and I-
In the pleasant summer weather.
M. F. B.



EVERY now and then Robbie Wentworth would complain that Nurse
Powell did not tell them enough about the old giant Electricity.
Children's Evening she expected to tell a story. But Robbie had an
idea that Nurse Powell ought to take special pains to find out all she could
in regard to the old giant, and then inform him of her knowledge.
"I might spend every spare moment of my time," declared Nurse,
" and then you are so greedy I believe you would allow me to neglect my
duties, Robbie Wentworth; and that, you know, would be a sin."

~Y)~PS -

, A.4, L-1 ,


You see Nurse had strict notions in regard to duty.
"I might tell you about St. Catherine's Lighthouse," she said, sitting
still for a minute or so, and wondering what else there was to tell Robbie
about the old giant. My brother Roland and I went there once."
You didn't see anything of the old giant, did you? asked Robbie.
Didn't I?" laughed Nurse Powell. Listen! "
Nurse Powell, you remember, was an Englishwoman, and so thought
no more of a trip to the Isle of Wight and St. Catherine's Downs than
you would of going to Niagara Falls, or the White
Mountains or the Adirondacks.
Years and years ago," began Nurse, there used
to be a lighthouse on the very top of St. Catherine's
Down. A devout knight built it. He provided an en-
dowment for a priest, whose duty it was to chant
masses, and keep a light burning at night, for the
benefit of passing mariners. But the mists were so
heavy, at the top of the hill, they moved the light-
house down a piece, so to avoid the fogs rolling off the
"They put up a tower of stonework, and fixed a
strong glass frame about twelve feet high, on the top of
it; this was to hold and protect the lantern. The lamp
had six wick burners. It was fed with mineral oil, and
ELGHT. it gave as much light as seven hundred and forty can-
dles would, all burning."
"Whickety! exclaimed Robbie. "It must have been a buster."
"As I said, there are heavy fogs at St. Catherine's," continued
Nurse Powell, paying no attention to Robbie's comment. They shut
,out the light, and so make it of little use to sailors. So after a while this
,oil lamp was taken down, and now at St. Catherine's there is the most
powerful electric light in the world."
"How many candles would they have to burn to make a light as
bright as it is? asked Lillie Wentworth.
"Three million; and every one of them burning as bright as day."
Why, Nurse Powell! cried Robbie Wentworth.


"Truth," declared Nurse; "just what I'm telling you."
"If I wouldn't like to see the old giant a-winking away, up there,"
mused Robbie.
It is a sight worth while," agreed Nurse Powell, and no mistake.
The flash from the lantern on top of St. Catherine's is worth going to the
Isle of Wight to see."
You didn't speak of the flash-light before," said Robbie, becoming
excited over Nurse's account of all she saw on her visit that she hadn't

before thought worth while to mention
to the Wentworth children.
"I can't tell everything at once,
dear," she told him. "There are
three lamps, but only one is used at a
time. It is the lantern that gives out the flash. On a bright night you
can see it forty miles away. At the Needles that's twelve miles off-
you can see to read by it.
"I wish you might hear the fog-horn, children," becoming excited
herself as she talked on. "The syren is the name of it. The old
giant blows his breath into the engines, as you tell about, Robbie, and
they work the dynamos, so my brother Roland explained," laughed
Nurse Powell, amused at the amount of knowledge she was able to
call up on this occasion, and drive the compressors, for sounding the:


"The compressors store up air for the syren to make into its whistle.
And it can be started at a moment's notice. It goes itself-just the
same as a clock runs after it is wound up. The syren runs for six hours,
and gives two powerful blasts every minute.
"Something like this: Whew-ew-ew-ew," trying to imitate the
sound, one high, and one low,
which once heard is never to be
"H'm! mused Robbie.
For he could not think of any-
thing to say, it was all so
"Visitors go and stand below
St. Catherine's," said Nurse
Powell, speaking in so impressive
a manner, that the children them-
selves almost fancied they could
see the brilliant beams of light
reaching to the horizon in every
direction, as Nurse Powell went
on with her description; but
as pretty a sight as anything you
can imagine, is to watch the
moths float along towards this
flight. Some nights they come
in such swarms that the light-
keepers are obliged to sweep
THE LANTERN. them off the glass, or else they
would shut out the light alto-
gether. And the birds come, too. Flying along as if they thought they
were going to their nests, I tell you, children, it was a beautiful sight."
That's the best story you ever told, Nurse Powell," said Robbie.
"You must think of something else about the old giant; s'pose you can
remember anything as good as this ?"
I don't know," replied Nurse. Greta Bryar.


WE had been upon the desert
for thirteen days when we reached
the river. Even the camels seemed
to appreciate the change. Tall
rushes, ten or fifteen feet high, grew
: so thick upon the bank that we
could only gain a glimpse, here and
there, of the water. Just before
sunset, however, I found a dilapi-
dated dinghy lying among the reeds.
A dinghy is a boat used in the East
Indies. It was hardly capable of
holding me, but I balanced myself
carefully, and pushed out upon the
river. Beautiful birds were every-
where, and as I rounded a bend I
suddenly came upon a nook among
the great rushes where for the first
time I saw the flamingo at home.
A tall male flamingo was quietly eating supper. He did not mind me and
my dinghy and I came quite close to him.
He was standing on one long leg, in the water, moving the other foot
slowly back and forth along the bottom and carefully watching it. Pretty
soon he drew it up, with a lizard clinging to his toe. A moment later he
had the lizard in his long, hooked beak. He was actually fishing.
A little farther off two females were sitting on nests which they had
built of sticks and mud, till they looked like the stumps of large trees ris-
ing out of the water. On the very top they arrange some grass and leaves
and there lay their eggs, resting with their long legs dangling on either side,
and their long necks twisted so that their heads hang over their backs.
Warren H. Frych.

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