i
1g
University
of
Florida
DAISY IN THE GARDEN.
PICTURES FOR DAISY
| WITH
PLEASING TALES IN PROSE AND RHYME.
GNE HUNDRED AND TWENTY ILLUSTRATIONS,
LONDON:
T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW;
EDINBURGH ; AND NEW YORK.
DAISY, ... Be te
FLORENCE’S DOLL, re
THE PET DOVE, ... nee
IN BED, ... Ae a
A HAPPY FAMILY,
THE FARM, eee eae
BY THE WAYSIDE, ose
CARTING THE HAY, ote
MY DOG DAN,
GRANDPAPA! ... ou
WHO COMES HERE? oe
THE BIRDS, nes uo
THE CARRIER, ... me
“ PANCY†WORK,
THE GARDENERS,
ROSE, 3 ee
THE SHEPHERD,
THE GLEANER, ...
THE FLOWER-GATHERERS,
THE POOL ON THE COMMON,
INDUSTRIOUS KITTY,
THE SILK-WORM,
THE PEEP-SHOW, as
OLD AGE, ...
GRANDMAMMA’S DARLINGS,
MAY-DAY, ...
THE TWO ANGLERS, ...
63
65
| THE UNFORTUNATE CAT,
MOTHER'S DARLING, ...
SEEING THE DOCTOR, ...
HOMEWARD BOUND,
AN EVENING IN JUNE, ...
EFFIE’S RIDE, ... ei
THE LINNET’S NEST, ...
LITTLE DUMPLING, ns
MY DOG “‘oscaR,†ae
THE SHEPHERD-BOY, ...
THE TOAD, Bes es
BROTHER AND SISTER, ...
THE PET LAMB, ... ee
AT THE FAIR, ... Be.
CHARMING ALICE, a
THE HAWTHORN, an
EMILY’S PET BIRD, a
A SONG OF SUMMER,
PLAYING AT SOLDIERS,
LITTLE NELLIE,
THE MILK-MAID,
THE APPLE-TREE,
THE SEA-SHORE, ... co
WEE MISS DOLLIKINS, ...
A NEW GUEST, ... ae
| LILY’S DREAM, ... a
THE ARCHERS, ... te
67
69
71
73
CONTENTS.
x
OSCAR THE BOLD, ore see see » 125 THE VILLAGE HOLIDAY, oe oe 142
THE TWO FRIENDS, see een GENEROUS ANNIE, aes wre 145
LOOKING FOR FATHER, +o 130 TOUCH NOT, TASTE Nor! 147
A MOTHER AND HER FAMILY, os 134 THE FLOWER OF THE VILLAGE, 150
FROLICSOME FRISK, 135 IN THE SWING, ... ite bc +00 154
INDUSTRIOUS BESSIE, ee 137 THE BUTTERFLY, Sea one tee 155
YOUTH ANI OLD AGE, ... aoe aos 139 THE WOODPECKER, as oe oe soon LOR
CARELESS TOMMY, see one oe eo EL THE VILLAGE GREEN, ... on ae we 150
AIR QA \\\ \
WIN NN NS \\
DAISY.
DAISY, our Daisy, is rosy and sweet,
Ji From the crown of her head to the sole of her feet!
With bonny brown eyes that are fair to behold,
1. And long curls that glitter like ribbons of gold.
12
DAISY.
Upstairs and downstairs, all frolic and fun,
Her two little feet will scamper and run;
While her two tiny hands are ready all day
For whatever is wanted, in work or in play.
They are restless whenever they’ve nothing to do;
And they'll thread mamma’s needle or fasten her shoe;
Build a brick-house for Baby, and yet never tire,
But put papa’s slippers in front of the fire.
Once on a time, when Baby was cross,
And nurse and mamma both felt at a loss,—
For Baby had fretted throughout the long day,—
Our Daisy invented a new kind of play.
She stuck a fine cap on her dear little head,—
Grandmamma’s cap, if the truth must be said,—
And then she looked wise, as you may suppose,
With grandmamma’s “specs†on her bit of a nose.
And, taking a parasol in her right hand,
In front of the Baby she took up her stand ;
And she sang and she laughed, and Baby laughed too
At this sweet little grandma, so nice and so new.
And such is our Daisy, so gentle and sweet;
A more lovable lassie you never will meet,—
Good-tempered, obliging, industrious, clever ;
Come, Baby, we'll sing, Our Daisy for ever!
FLORENCE’S DOLL.
FLORENCE’S DOLL.
Say, did you e’er see such a Dolly as mine,
All dressed in her best, so neat, yet so fine?
With a cap on her head,
Bright yellow and red,
And a collar of beads that sparkle and shine ?
14
FLORENCE’S DOLL.
Just please to observe that her ringlets of black
Don’t fall in disorder half-way down her back,
But are gracefully tied
With a bow at the side ;
Then hark to her tongue! how it goes click-a-clack !
And her eyes '—do you see how they open and close?
Was there ever before such a duck of a nose ?
And her hands are so white ;
And her lips are so bright ;
And as for her cheeks, they’re as red as a rose!
So Maggy, and Kitty, and Jemmy, and Polly,
Come and look, if you please, at Florence’s Dolly ;
And old Neptune, too,
We'll indulge with a view,
Though I dare say he thinks it is all fun and folly.
THE PET DOVE. 15
THE PET DOVE.
Ir is astonishing how tame many animals will become if
you treat them kindly. And indeed nothing is so power-
16 THE PET DOVE.
ful as kindness, whether you have to deal with dumb
animals or human beings.
Lilian has a pet dove, which is so tame that she can |
carry it about with her perched on her finger; and it
will take a piece of sugar from her lips. Even if she
goes into the garden, it will follow her. Lilian does not
shut it up in a cage, but provides a pretty little house
for it, and allows it to fly about freely; for she knows |
| that birds love the sunshine, and the fresh air, and the
leafy woods.
She calls it Snowdrop, its under feathers are so white.
Well, Snowdrop has strong wings, and can take long
journeys, but it always returns to its home and its mis-
| tress.
One day, when Lilian was walking through the park,
along by the side of the stream, she heard a fluttering
among the leaves, and looking up, she saw her Snow-
| drop. She called it, and instantly it flew down to greet
her, and perched on her hand, cooing and cooing in evident
delight. ;
There are many kinds of doves or pigeons—such as the
ring-dove or wood-pigeon, the stock-dove, and the rock-
dove. ‘There is also the turtle-dove; but this is only a
visitor in England, coming in the spring, and’ leaving
before the dark cold winter.
| The dove isa mild and gentle bird, and is always taken
by pee and painters as a sign or a token of peace and
(561) 4
THE PET DOVE. 17
innocence. Do you not remember that when Noah wished
to know if the great flood of waters had gone down, he
sent out a dove to see; and it came back to the ark with
a branch in its bill, thus showing that the trees were un-
covered? And do you not remember that the Holy Spirit
is said to have descended upon earth in the shape of a
dove ?
The dove, I must tell you, is very affectionate to its
mate and its young. It has only two little birds in a
brood, and these it brings up
very carefully, feeding them with
‘acorns, and beech-nuts, and fir-
cones. Its call is very soft and
tender, and has a sweet, low,
musical sound about it, which
we try to represent by the word
coo. We speak of the cooing of a
dove, not of its singing.
I have told you that the turtle-
dove is a visitor, and comes with
the spring. It is silent during
the winter, even in its native lands, and hides among
the deep warm woods; but as soon as the green leaves
appear, it seems to feel a new life. “For, lo! the winter
is past, the rain is over and gone; the time of the sing-
ing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard
in our land.â€
(561) 2
TURTLE-DOVE.
IN BED.
Ou dear! oh dear! Is Dollikins ill?
Shall we give her a powder, draught, or pill ?
How pale she looks, how dark round the eyes!
And, oh dear me, how still she lies !
Dollikins,—Dollikins,—why don’t you speak ?
I fear the poor creature must feel very weak.
No doubt it was taking her out to tea
That laid her up in the way you see !
Visits and gossips for her are wrong,
Since every one knows she is not very strong.
Well ; tuck in her toes, and wrap up her head,—
For Dolly, when sick, there is no place like bed !
A HAPPY FAMILY. 19
A HAPPY FAMILY.
Cuuck, cluck, cluck,
cluck! What a noise
Dame Partlet—that is
the hen, you know—
made when George and
his sisters, finding the
gate of the back garden
open, and the chickens
running about, drove
them in again! Cluck,
cluck, cluck ! You
would have thought that
she and her chickens were being killed; while all that
George and his sisters wanted was to piven them from
straying on the high-road, where they might have been
run over, or have lost their way, or have been stoned by
wicked boys.
A nice coop is provided for Dame Partlet ‘and her
family, with a basin of water close at hand, and an abun-
dance of fresh seed and crumbs of bread. And very happy
Mrs. Hen and her youngsters seem to be, though, during
the day-time, she can’t keep them in the coop—they wul/
run about. If they see a dog or a cat coming, they run
fast enough to take shelter under her wings; but they
are very fond of wandering all over the yard, seeing
20 A HAPPY FAMILY.
what they can pick up, while their mother calls after
them, Cluck, cluck, cluck! and runs to and fro in quite
a ridiculous fashion. However, when evening comes,
they all get together in the coop, forming a snug little
party, and there they are safe from every enemy. Mrs.
Hen has eight little ones to look after, and she takes
very great care of them—in fact, she brings them up
admirably ; and they are, as I said before, a very happy
family.
They had better make the most of their time, you see,
for I fear cook will not allow them all to grow up into
gallant cocks and motherly hens! Chickens are very
nice to eat, and I dare say some of the little feathered
creatures now fluttering about the yard will help to
make chicken broth for George and his sisters. Well,
they know nothing about their future—any more than
we do; and they are quite happy now with Dame Part-
let to look after them.
THE FARM. 21
THE FARM.
Herz is Peggy, the dairymaid, feeding the poultry. How
they all gather round her,—cocks, and hens, and chickens;
black, and gray, and speckled; Polish, Spanish, Hamburg,
Cochin - China,— all
eager to get their
breakfast ! They
know as well as
Peggy herself what
she has in her bas-
ket, and that it is
time for them to
receive their morn-
ing meal. And here
come the pigeons
to get their share
of the feast. Coo,
coo, coo! cluck,
cluck, cluck! cock-
a-doodle-doo! Dear
me, what a noise
they make! How
they flap their wings,
and scratch with their restless claws, and clean their
feathers! And yet each one is quite ready to dart
forward as soon as Peggy throws the first handful of
22 THE FARM.
seed—pigeons, and hens, and cocks, and chickens. Coo,
coo, coo! eluck, cluck, cluck! cock-a-doodle-doo! The
scene is a noisy one, and yet it is pleasant to look at.
But there is always something to see at the farm.
After you have watched the poultry at their breakfast,
you can go and see the cows milked. How patiently they
stand the while, chewing the food they have just eaten,
and looking at you with their large tender eyes! Isthere |
not something mild and gentle in the expression of a
cow’s face ?
Next, we may go off to the pig-sties. Here are three
fine fat porkers—“ sows,†as they are called—each with
its little family of young pigs. Just observe how they
thrust their noses into the half-empty troughs ; and how,
in their eager greediness, they actually put their feet into
the troughs, each trying to eat more than the other. I
cannot say I am fond of pigs, except in the shape of ham
and pork.
Where shall we go next? We may pay a visit to the
farmyard, and watch the geese and ducks swimming in
the pond. But do not go too near that big angry-looking
turkey; he seems out of temper, and is spreading his
feathers as if he intended to fly, which he cannot do. Per-
haps he is jealous of the peacock yonder, which, standing
on the top of the farmyard wall, has displayed his glori-
ous tail to the sun, and is as proud as possible of the
splendour of his plumage.
THE FARM. 23
And where shall we go next? Oh, into the barn, and
see the bins where the corn is kept for the cattle; and
the harrows and ploughs,—which are used, you know,
for getting ready the fields to receive the seed ; and the
grindstone on which the men sharpen their tools; and
the great waggons and carts which carry the hay and
straw to the places where the ricks are built up; and all
the various articles which the farmer and his workmen
make use of in their daily toil.
Yes; there is always something to see at the farm.
We might go round to the stables, and look at the tall
big horses, with their sleek skins and long flowing tails ;
or out into the fields, where some of the men are plough-
ing; but as we are tired, I think we will turn into the
dairy, and refresh ourselves with a dish of milk.
24 BY THE WAYSIDE.
BY THE WAYSIDE.
Miss Summers is one of the teachers at the Sunday school,
and everybody loves her for her goodness and kindness of
heart. Little Madge is looking up at her with wondering
eyes, for, poor girl! she seldom hears any one speak so
softly and gently to her as Miss Summers is speaking.
Her parents are very poor, and fond of drink; and poor
Madge and her brother Tom
wander about the lanes
nearly all day long, with
little to wear, and little to
eat, except what is given to
them by charitable neigh-
bours. |
Madge has learned to read _ |
short words, and so Miss
Summers gives her a pretty
story-book. Only she makes |
her promise to come to the |
Sunday school, that she may
improve in her reading, and learn about Jesus her Saviour,
who died that mankind might be happy. Madge fears
that her clothes are too ragged, but Miss Summers tells
her to think nothing of that; and if she is a good girl,
I have no doubt she will find friends to provide her with
something better.
CARTING THE HAY. 25
CARTING THE HAY.
Sout, boys! about, boys! up with the hay, boys!
This is not the time for us to think of play, boys!
Fast sinks the sun,
And day is nearly done,—
Shout, boys! about, boys! up with the hay, boys!
26
CARTING THE HAY.
In among the mows the children are at play, boys!
While the labouring horses slowly come this way, boys!
Now with rake and hoe
Make a vig’rous show,—
Shout, boys! about, boys! up with the hay, boys!
See how high a rick we have built to-day, boys!
And soon the thatch upon it we will neatly lay, boys!
Oh, the fragrant smell
That comes from dale and dell !—
Shout, boys! about, boys! up with the hay, boys!
Shout, boys! about, boys! up with the hay, boys!
Men and women—all must do their best to-day, boys!
Fast sinks the sun,
Our work is nearly done,—
Shout, boys! about, boys! up with the hay, boys!
MY DOG DAN.
MY DOG DAN.
JACK has a dog whose name is Dan ;
His coat is black, and white, and tan;
28
MY DOG DAN.
His ears are long, and his tail is thick ;
His claws are sharp, and his eyes are quick ;
Large brown eyes are they, that seem
To glow with a kind of sunny beam.
Hurrah for the dog whose name is Dan,
With his coat all black, and white, and tan!
A wonderful fellow is this dog Dan—
Almost as clever as any man.
If John his finger lifts up, he begs,
Sitting erect on his hinder legs;
Or if John whistles, he knows the sound,
And throws himself full length on the ground,
Outstretches his tail, and tucks in his head,
And makes believe that Dan is dead.
Full many a trick this queer dog knows,
And is cleverer far than you’d suppose.
If baby pinches him, you'll see
That he neither barks nor bites—not he!
He gives a short cough, as if to say,
“This is not very nice, but it’s baby’s way.â€
Hurrah for the dog whose name is Dan,
With his coat of black, and white, and tan!
GRANDPAPA ! 29
GRANDPAPA!
Ou, here is grandpapa! Who will kiss him first? Dick,
Tom, and Harry have mounted on the old oaken table,
and are clinging to his neck, and holding on by his coat ;
while Charley has climbed on the chair, and is grasping
30 GRANDPAPA !
his right arm. As for Effie and Kate, they were not in
time to take possession of chair or table, but, along with
Arthur and Edgar, they have pressed in as close as
possible ; for they all love their kind, generous, noble
grandpapa !
And no wonder! He is very fond of his grandchildren,
and is never so happy as when they are around him.
He takes them into his study, and shows them all the
pretty and wonderful things he has collected in the
course of his travels ; or into his garden and greenhouses,
where he finds for them the prettiest flowers and ripest
grapes ; and when their birthdays come round, a present
also comes from dear grandpapa! And so, the moment
he makes his appearance, Dick and Tom and Harry,
Charlie, Effie, and Kate, Edgar and Arthur,—all run to
embrace him ; not on account of his presents, but because
they love him as he loves them.
WHO COMES HERE? 31
WHO COMES HERE?
Tue Squire’s wife and daughter are coming to call at Tim
Johnson’s cottage. I am sorry to say that Tim and his |
wife are idle, careless persons, who do not look after their
children, and give much
trouble in the village.
There is neither father
nor mother at home,
and the children are
left to play in the street,
and go about bare-
footed, with dirty faces,
and untidy hair. It is
all very well for Madge
to tell Kitty that the
“ Squire’s lady †is com-
ing. But what can she
do? She is holding the
baby, and cannot pre-
vent Tom and Jemmy
from teazing the poor
little kitten. I hope
these neglected chil-
dren will be sent to school, that they may be brought up
in the right way, and taught to love truth and honesty,
and to do their duty.
32 THE BIRDS.
THE BIRDS.
Rovunp about the old church tower
Flock the birds on ready wing ;
They have come from meadow and bower,—
Hark to the merry songs they sing!
They have come from meadow and bower,
Far they have flown o’er hill and dale,—
Some from the depths of the greenwood still,
And some from the grove in the leafy vale.
Round about the old church tower
Flock the birds on ready wing ;
They have come from meadow and bower,—
Hark to the merry songs they sing !
But why have they gathered here to-day,
And what is.the burden of their strain ?
“ Winter is coming!†they seem to say,—
“ And winds of winter will blow again !
“So we to summer climes must fly,
Where never falls the cold white snow ;
We to the lands of the South must fly,
Where honied flowers will softly glow !
But when the winter is past and o’er,
And earth is glad in the sunny spring ;
Round about the old church tower
We once more will merrily sing!â€
THE BIRDS.
34 THE CARRIER.
Every morning the carrier goes from Bradbourne to the
market-town of Charford—for there is no railway in that
part of the country ; and every evening he returns from
Charford to our village. Every day but Sunday old
Peter Thompson makes this journey, carrying or fetching
anything that any person wants! He is so honest and
faithful that he can be trusted with the most important
messages ; and he is so careful that no one remembers old
Peter Thompson to have made a mistake. Every day
but Sunday, all round the year! It is pleasant enough
in summer time; but in the storms of autumn, or in
winter, when the sky is black with clouds, and the snow
lies thickly on the ground, and the wind blows keenly
over the open common, old Peter Thompson’s is very hard
work, I can tell you!
“FANCY†WORK. 35
“FANCY†WORK.
“Come here, Amy! See what I have made for you !â€
Amy lost no time in attending upon her sister, who
held in her hand a very pretty basket, crusted all over
with beautiful coloured shells, and filled with flowers of
wax so cleverly made
that you could hardly
tell they were not real.
Of course, Amy was
very glad to receive such
a present on her birth-
day, and she prized it
all the more because the
basket was her sister
Ellen’s own work. Ellen
had bought the flowers,
but she made the basket
herself. The shells she
had gathered on the sea-
shore during her summer
holidays, and she had
mixed them among pretty bits of seaweed ; so that every
time Amy looked at her basket, she thought she could
hear the murmur of the waves, and see them rolling and
flashing in the glory of the sun.
It is much nicer to give your friends a present of some-
36 “FANCY†WORK.
thing made by your own hands, than to buy a ready-made
article ; is it not? Therefore, it is well you should learn
to make baskets and model flowers ; to draw and paint ;
to knit lace, and all such things,—what is called fancy
work. And this is a delightful way of amusing your-
self when you have any leisure. It improves your taste,
and opens up many new sources of knowledge.
But, of course, useful work must not be neglected. I
should not feel inclined to admire the young lady who
could not sew or stitch, or write or spell, though she was
clever at modelling wax flowers or fruit, and making shell
baskets !
“Everything in its place, and a tine for everything.â€
This should be your motto, my dear little reader.
ESSE EARN 7 OA 4 sR REE EE IT nee}
THE GARDENERS. 37
a a
THE GARDENERS.
Mr. Vernon has a large house, and all around it spreads
a large and beautiful garden. And you see he has no
fewer than three gardeners! Alick Mackenzie is the
3e THE GARDENERS.
name of the eldest—who, I think, does the most work, and
knows most about it; and Alick is assisted by Master
Everard and Miss Edith Vernon.
Everard and Edith are very fond of flowers and plants,
and they are also very fond of attending to them; and,
young as they are, Alick says they are very helpful to
him, for they are patient and clever, will do what they
are told, and take a pleasure in their work. In fine
weather, when they have finished their lessons, they are
delighted to get their mamma’s leave to “help Alick ;â€
and you would be quite amused to see the old gardener
marching along the paths, with his spade and pick-axe,
and a basket for the dead leaves, accompanied by Miss
Edith with her light little rake, and Master Everard with
the watering-pot.
What do they do?
Oh, they tie up the flowers that have fallen down, and
pick off withered leaves and buds, and rake some of the
smaller beds, and water the choicest plants, and attend
to their own wee bits of garden. For both Everard and
Hdith have a tiny plot of their own, which the gardener
never touches; and there they grow their favourite
flowers,—pinks and carnations, roses and geraniums,
stocks and wallflowers, pansies and marigolds,—accord-
ing to the season. And very proud and pleased they are
when they can pick a nosegay for mamma or papa out of
their gardens. And when a visitor admires the flowers,
THE GARDENERS. 39
and mamma says, “ Yes, they are very fine; and they
were grown by my son and daughter,†you cannot imagine
how happy they feel.
You must know that Everard and Edith find working
in the garden very healthy, for it keeps them in the fresh |
air and warm sunshine; very agreeable, for it occupies |
their leisure time ; and very useful, for it teaches them a
number of wonderful things about plants and flowers,—
how they grow, what they live on, and their various uses
and qualities. They know that one plant grows best in |
one kind of soil, and another plant in another kind ; that
some need a good deal of water, and others very little ;
that they cannot live, any more than we can, without
light and air; that they breathe just as we do, only
through the surface of the leaves and not by means of
lungs; and, in fact, that they have a life of their own, and
must be properly fed and taken care of, or they will fade
and die. Sometimes they watch the bees drawing sweets
from the flowers. Sometimes they find a caterpillar snugly
rolling itself up in a rose-leaf. There is always something
to do, something to watch, something to learn; and
Everard and Edith find gardening a very entertaining
and instructive occupation.
So would you, children, if you would but try! And if
you live in town, and have no garden, you can always keep
a few plants at your window ; and even these will afford
| you much amusement.
40 THE GARDENERS.
I think it is a very good sign when boys and girls are
fond of flowers. And it is a good sign when you see a
nice plant or two blooming at a cottage window.
You may be sure that inside all will be neat and
clean; and I think, as a rule, you will find that the
cottager is sober and industrious, and the cottager’s wife |
a thrifty housekeeper! So it is pleasant to see a well-
kept garden in front of a cottage. It may be a very tiny
one,—but it always looks bright and cheerful, and it
always provides amusement for a leisure hour. I have
seen finer flowers sometimes in a cottage-garden than in
the superb gardens of wealthy gentlemen. Such stocks
and roses, such wallflowers and pansies, such pinks and
carnations, it was a treat to look at them! For flowers
are like children,—they must be watched, and trained,
and lovingly tended !
Eacu useless branch the gardener cuts away,
That richer bloom may deck the tree in May.
ROSE.
Rosgs are most dainty sweet,
And in bloom and balm complete :
None of all the beauteous flowers
That adorn our garden-bowers,
That in dells and meadows shine—
Blessings sent by Love Divine—
41
42
ROSE.
Half so fair or tender shows
As the Rose!
Roses are most dainty bright
With a soft and sunny light :
Oh, how delicate their blush
In the summer noontide’s flush !
Oh, how rich the fragrance rare
Which they breathe upon the air !
Not a flower so softly glows
As the Rose !
Roses are most dainty fair ;
Like sister Rose, beyond compare !
Oh, how good, how pure is she
In her sweet simplicity !
Mark her curls of golden hue,
And her eyes of sunny blue ;
Sweetest of all maidens shows
Sister Rose !
THE SHEPHERD. 43
THE SHEPHERD.
Far away among the lonely hills the good shepherd
watches his flock, and is careful to see that in their
search after sweet wild thyme and fresh grass they do
not wander into places where he could not find them.
In sunshine or in rain, in storm or calm, In summer or
in winter, still he keeps guard over his sheep,—leading
them to fresh pastures when it is needful, and keeping
them safe from every danger.
I often think that it is a great thing to be a shepherd.
Do you not read in the Bible that the second man who
was born on earth became a keeper of sheep? The first
44 THE SHEPHERD.
man who died, the good and gentle Abel, was a shepherd.
Moses, the lawgiver of Israel, was at one time a shepherd ;
and he was watching his father-in-law’s sheep when the
voice of the Lord came to him, and called him to do God’s
work.
Then, again, the second king of Israel, David, the man
after God’s own heart, was a shepherd in his youth, and
drove his flock into the flowery fields of Palestine. He
was but a shepherd boy when, with sling and stone, he
slew the cruel, boastful giant, Goliath.
It was to shepherds watching their flock by night that
the sweet songs of angels told of the birth of our Saviour,
and of the peace and good-will which He brought to all
mankind.
And pleasantest of all to remember, our Lord is often
described as the Good Shepherd, who laid down His life
for the sheep, who calls us the sheep of His pasture, and
speaks of little children as His lambs.
THE GLEANER. 45
THE GLEANER.
WueEn the reapers have done their work in the corn-field,
and the wheat has been gathered up into bundles, called
“sheaves,†it is the custom in many parts of our country,
as it was in the
land of Boaz and
Ruth, to let the
poor collect for
their own use the
ears that have
been left lying on
the ground.
You will see
women and chil-
dren following in
the steps of the
sheaf-binder, and
picking up ear
after ear, until
their aprons are
full. Sometimes,
indeed, the load
is so great that no
child could carry it; and you will see strong women,
with bundles of ripe corn on their backs, trudging
slowly home.
46 THE GLEANER.
Then, by-and-by, they take it to the miller’s; and he
grinds it into nice white flour.
But there is not much left for the gleaners now-a-days.
In most large farms a reaping machine is used: and the
corn is cut so close, and gathered up so carefully, that the
poor gleaners find little to repay them for their trouble.
But Mary Lee goes out into the field, and does her best,
for she knows that it will be a help to her father and
mother.
WHEN the reapers’ work is done,
And the harvest-treasure won ;
‘When beneath the golden sun,
And the summer’s glorious sky,
Beaming brightly blue on high,
Thick the bearded corn-sheaves lie,
Comes the gleaner to the field,
Hopeful it will something yield,—
Some few straggling ears of wheat,
Her mother’s garner to complete.
THE FLOWER-GATHERERS. 47
THE FLOWER-GATHERERS.
In the merry summer hours,
Lads and lasses,
Lads and lasses,
48
THE FLOWER-GATHERERS.
Come and gather ye the flowers,
On grassy fields, in leafy bowers,
Where the sunshine and the showers
Have cherished all their inner powers—
Lads and lasses!
In the merry summer hours,
Lads and lasses,
Lads and lasses,
Come and gather ye the flowers !
Some are large, and some are small ;
Some like dwarfs, some giants tall !
Blossoms bright of every hue,
Pink, and gold, and red, and blue—-
Lads and lasses !
In the merry summer hours,
Lads and lasses,
Lads and lasses,
Come and gather ye the flowers !
Stars of earth, they seem to shine
With a light that is divine.
Oh, how delicate their bloom!
Oh, how sweet is their perfume !
Lads and lasses ! |
THE FLOWER-GATHERERS.
49
(561)
In the merry summer hours,
Lads and lasses,
Lads and lasses,
Come and gather ye the flowers !
See, like tiny lamps, they beam
’Mid the herbage by the stream ;
Or in garlands twine about
The thick fresh hedges in and out—
Lads and lasses !
In the merry summer hours,
Lads and lasses,
Lads and lasses,
Come and gather ye the flowers !
Make them into posies fair,
Weave them round your flowing hair ;
Gather hats and aprons full,
Pull and pick, and pick and pull—
Lads and lasses !
In the merry summer hours,
Lads and lasses,
Lads and lasses,
Come and gather ye the flowers!
Lads and lasses, see! our field
Will buttercups and daisies yield,
50
THE FLOWER-GATHERERS.
Poppies tall and roses rare,
And blue-bells waving in the air—
Lads and lasses !
In the merry summer hours,
Lads and lasses,
Lads and lasses,
Come and gather ye the flowers !
Let us all, with cheerful voice,
In these fairy gifts rejoice ;
These stars of earth that surely shine
With a glory most divine—
Lads and lasses !
THE POOL ON THE COMMON. 51
THE POOL ON THE COMMON.
THERE are some cottages on the common belonging to
a few poor people, who get work as hedgers and ditchers,
or are engaged in hawking about goods for sale among
people almost as poor as themselves. Such cottages!
Small, and dark, and low, with thatched roofs and clay
walls! But their inhabitants do not complain, for they
52 THE POOL ON THE COMMON.
are warm and dry, and the rent is very low. Besides,
they can keep a few hens, or a pig, or pony, for the
common is free to all.
The cottage children would hardly exchange their dull
little hovels on the common for the finest houses in the
crowded town. They know nothing of such comforts as
you and I delight in. All they care for is the fresh air,
and the liberty of wandering where they like; gathering
flowers in the hollows; picking rushes, with which their
mothers make baskets ; blackberrying and nutting in the
proper season ; or, on hot summer afternoons, wading in
the pond, and sailing their rude bits of boats. Or per-
haps they catch the unfortunate pony, and mount upon
his back,—two or three at once,—and scamper away over
the grassy lea.
They get but little schooling ; few of them, I fear, can
read or write ; and they are seldom seen inside a church.
Their clothes are tattered and much worn ; they are fed
with the poorest food ; and often they are employed on
very hard work. It is sad that they should be so
neglected, and that their parents should care so little
how they grow up.
Who can wonder that they find pleasure in roaming
over the breezy common, with its hills and dales, its noble
trees and clumps of furze ; or in playing by the side of the
pool, where the sun lights up its clear, bright waters !
They have no happy home, such as you and I have!
|
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INDUSTRIOUS KITTY. 53
INDUSTRIOUS KITTY.
Wuart a difference you will sometimes find between two
sisters or brothers of the same family! Now, here are
Kitty and Nelly Thornton: Kitty is such a quiet, grave,
industrious little fairy; while Nelly is as lively as possible,
full of fun, and never so happy as when she is at play.
When their lessons are done, Nelly flies off to get her
54 INDUSTRIOUS KITTY.
hoop or her skipping-rope, and, if the weather is fine,
down she hurries into the garden, and you may see her
skipping or running along the garden walks.
Now, grave little Kitty goes also into the garden ; but
she chooses a nice sunny seat, and there she sits, stitching
away at something for her mamma or herself, or making
a garment, perhaps, for a poor woman’s child. Nelly will
pay her a visit, and try to persuade her to join in a romp.
But Kitty goes on sewing until her work is done; after
which she generally waters her flowers, or watches the
bees flying to and fro.
Well, both little girls are very happy; but their
mamma wishes that Nelly had more of Kitty’s industry,
and Kitty a little more of Nelly’s playfulness.
THE SILKWORM. 55
THE SILKWORM.
_ Avrrep and Eleanor are fond of keeping silkworms. They |
| put them in a nice dry box of cardboard, and feed them
| on lettuce leaves or mulberry leaves; and then they find
| it very interesting to watch them spinning their beautiful
56 THE SILKWORM.
soft yellow silk. The worms wrap themselves up in a
cocoon, or outer coat, of this silk ; and Alfred and Eleanor
carefully unwind it, and roll it off on a reel. Then the
silkworms spin some more. And so they go on,—in-
dustrious little creatures! Always at work so long as
life remains to them ; thus teaching a lesson of industry
which boys and girls should try to remember and
profit by.
These little creatures furnish us with the silk which
we use for clothing and various other purposes. Yes, the
silk frock which Eleanor wears is made from the fine soft
stuff produced by the silkworm. Is not this wonderful ?
Just think of it! A tiny worm, through the power and
wisdom of God, can be useful to man.
CQUOON OF SILKWORM.
THE PEEP-SHOW. 57
acres eS
THE PHEP-SHOW.
Comz, boys and girls! Come, come, I say! Here is
Travelling Tim, as he is called, with his peep-show! In-
side it are beautiful pictures of distant places, great snowy
mountains and immense waterfalls! You look through a
58 THE PEEP-SHOW.
magnifying glass in the front of the box, and this makes
them look quite real, and very charming. And all the
while you are looking Tim shifts the pictures,—showing
first one, and then another,—and tells you what they
represent. Come, boys and girls! Come, come, I say !
Here is Travelling Tim, with his peep-show.
Did you ever see such a splendid sight? Look in at
one little window, and there is the Duke of Wellington
on a white horse! Look in at another, and you see the
Queen in her robes! At another, and you are shown the
Falls of Niagara, with their immense floods of water.
At another, and you are shown a beautiful lake in Scot-
land. And here is London, the great city, with its
bridges across the Thames, and the dome of its fine
cathedral. Come, boys and girls! Come, come, I say!
Here is Travelling Tim, with his peep-show.
OLD AGE.
OLD AGE.
In the autumn of life men seek for rest and repose ; and
old John Thomson, who can remember the birth of most
of the men and women now living in Bradbourne, delights
on a still summer evening to make his way to the Village
Oak, as it is called, and beneath its broad leaves he sits
and thinks and dreams. He knows that his course is
nearly run; but the knowledge does not make him sad,
for he trusts in his Father’s mercy.
60 GRANDMAMMA’S DARLINGS.
GRANDMAMMA’S DARLINGS.
Wipow GrReeEN lives in one of the prettiest cottages in
Bradbourne. Outside, it is covered with roses and honey-
suckle ; and it stands in a garden all. bright and sweet
with flowers. Inside, it is as neat and clean as cottage
can be ; the walls are kept nicely coloured, the floor is
white as snow, and the pots and ae which are hung
about shine like silver.
Widow Green has neither husband, sons, nor daughters,
though she is an aged woman now, with wrinkles on her
forehead, and gray hair.
She had but one son, Frank Green; a fine, manly,
bold-hearted fellow, who married Susan Thomson, the
farmer’s daughter. And a happy couple they were!
They had two children, Frank and Susan, and they
brought them up to love truth and honesty, and taught
them to fear God. But it happened that a great fire
broke out at the Squire’s house, and Frank Green, of
course, was foremost among those who tried to put it
out. He rushed through the flames to rescue one of the
servants ; a beam fell upon him, and injured him so
severely that the courageous, generous fellow died soon
afterwards.
Well, his loving wife took her loss so much to heart
that, as people say, she never again lifted up her head ;
and within six months she followed him to the grave,
eos
eo
'S DARLINGS.
GRANDMAMMA
62 GRANDMAMMA’S DARLINGS.
leaving her two children to the care of their grandmother,
Widow Green.
The Squire could not help feeling very much for this
unfortunate family ; and he respected the memory of
Frank Green, who had always done his duty like an
honest man and true. So he agreed to allow Widow
Green a few pounds every year towards the support of
Frank and Susan ; and as she has always been a careful,
industrious woman, she has managed to get along very
nicely.
She is old now, and cannot work so hard as she did ;
but the children are able to help her. Her chief amuse-
ment is, in the evening, to hear Frank read to her, while
Susan kindles a good light for him to see by. Poor
people cannot afford gas or lamps.
As for Frank, he is very fond of reading, and wants
to learn enough to become a teacher in the village school.
So every spare moment you will find him poring over his
book or slate: in the winter, he crouches down by the
blazing wood-fire ; in the summer, he takes his seat in
the pretty garden, which owes much of its nice appearance
to his labours. And I can assure you he is getting on
so fast with his books, that I have no doubt he will in
time be successful, and rise to be the village school-
master.
MAY-DAY.
63
Wuo shall be Queen of the May to-day,
Who shall be Queen of the May?
Oh, bring me a crown for Edith Brown,
And merrily shout—Hurrah !
Strew at her feet your fairest flowers ;
Let the drums and trumpets play :
And weave you a crown for Edith Brown,
Since she shall be Queen of the May !
64
MAY-DAY.
In all the village there’s none so good,
Or has so sweet a way ;—
Since to all she is dear, why, come, let us cheer
Our bonny, bright Queen of the May!
Come old, and come young, come little and tall,
Come, lads and lasses, away ;
With a flowery crown for sweet Edith Brown,
Our bonny, bright Queen of the May!
THE TWO ANGLERS. 65
THE TWO ANGLERS.
Most boys, I think, are fond of fishing ; and though some
people call it cruel sport, I must say I think it a pleasant
amusement on a bright summer afternoon.
There is Tom Hunt, now. He runs home from school
as if he had wings to his
feet ; hurries through his
tea ; learns his lessons for
the next day; and then
away he goes, with his
dog Cowslip, to fish in
the squire’s pond. The '
fish are not very numerous |
nor very large; and Tom
does not catch very many.
But he sits on the bank,
with Cowslip by his side,
and watches for a bite, as
happy as a king! His
rod is nothing more than
a blackthorn stick, and a bent pin sometimes serves for
a hook; but he handles it like a skilful angler, and
every now and then gives a look at his dog, as much as
to say, ‘ Did you ever see such a clever fellow?†And
Cowslip gives a short bark, which means, “I never did !â€
Master Herbert Dale, the doctor’s son, is as fond of
(561) 5
‘i ae aj
a id
66 THE TWO ANGLERS.
fishing as Tom Hunt; and when he gets a holiday, he
marches down to the river, with a fine new rod and
tackle, as spruce as possible. But I don’t think he
catches so many fish as poor Tom, with his blackthorn
and bent pin. It is not the rod,—don’t you see ?—but
the skill, that catches the fish.
This is just what boys are apt to forget. If they play
cricket, they must have a very expensive bat; or if they
are learning to draw, all kinds of pencils and paper ; as
if success depended upon the newness and dearness of
their playthings or tools. It depends, however, upon in-
dustry, perseverance, carefulness, energy. Without these,
the young angler will catch no fish, and the cricketer
will make no runs, and the artist will never learn to
draw well, though their tackle, or bats, or pencils may be
the finest possible.
THE UNFORTUNATE CAT. 67
SSS
THE UNFORTUNATE CAT.
Pussy looks as sleek and happy as any cat could wish to
be, seated there on the soft hearth-rug, in front of a fine
blazing fire. She is Nelly’s pet, and always has plenty
of nice food ; and is allowed, as you see, to visit the draw-
ing-room, quite like a guest. At night, she generally
sleeps on the mat outside Nelly’s bedroom door, and there
68
THE UNFORTUNATE CAT.
she is in the morning, all ready to welcome her mistress
with a mew the moment she makes her appearance.
perhaps Pussy has her troubles; and she does not live
on very good terms with the dog Rover, of whom she is
rather afraid. I remember some pretty verses about a
dog and a cat, which would suit Pussy very well :—
Rover ran out on the lawn so green,
And Pussy, climbing a bough,
Mewed, “ You're the worst dog that ever was seen ;â€
And Rover replied, “‘ Bow-wow !â€
Says Rover, “O Pussy, so sleek and so bright,
With a coat of such capital fur,
What makes you run off in such terrible fright,
As if I were a low common cur?â€
Pussy said not a word, but, safe in the tree,
She curled her long tail round her toes ;
So Rover shook his wise head—did he—
And coiled himself up for a doze.
Then Pussy came softly and timidly down,
As if she were after a mouse ;
And Rover ne’er pricked up his ears so brown,
As she scampered away to the house.
That night she told, in the dark wood-shed,
To her kittens, all three in a row,
What a terribly anxious life she led,
Because Rover worried her so!
MOTHER’ DARLING. 69
MOTHERS DARLING.
Wuat a pretty picture a mother and her baby make!
Here is Mrs. Seymour, with her fat, round, fair, blue-
eyed baby-boy ; and oh, how happy she feels while she
\
~*~
70 MOTHERS DARLING.
clasps him to her breast! Well may nurse call him
“Mother’s darling ;†for no doubt Mrs. Seymour loves
him dearly. How pretty his ways are! How he
chuckles and crows, and pats mamma’s face with his
chubby hands! How he laughs, first at her, and then
at his nurse, and rolls to and fro, and puts up his rosy
lips to be kissed, and stretches out his little limbs, and
talks in his babyish way !
Well, by-and-by mamma will hand him over to nurse,
and then he will undergo a great ceremony of being
washed and dressed ; after which he will be put to bed
in his beautiful snow-white cradle.
_ And then, when he is sleeping softly and sweetly, his
mamma will come and kneel down by his side, praying
God to bless and watch over her darling.
71
SEEING THE DOCTOR.
i
le
SEEING THE DOCTOR
18
and hi
3
ining of headache
Jounny has been compla
But now the doctor has
mother has sent for Dr. Bolus.
come, he does not wish to see him,
ther has
is mo
and h
72 SEEING THE DOCTOR.
to push him forward, while he hangs his head, and seems
afraid to speak. This is foolish; for Dr. Bolus is kind
and clever, and wishes to do him good. Does Johnny
think he will cut off his head? Charley looks on in sur-
prise ; for the doctor is so good-tempered and agreeable,
that he thinks everybody should like him.
However, Johnny takes the medicine which Dr. Bolus
sends him, though not without wry faces and a good deal
of fuss. It does him good, for there is not much the
matter with him; and his headache gone, Johnny is as
brisk as ever! Away he goes—into the fields to pick
flowers, or down to the stream to fish ; away he goes, and
forgets all about his headache and Dr. Bolus!
HOMEWARD BOUND. 73
HOMEWARD BOUND.
Arter a delightful ramble in the green shades of the
woods, Clara and Maude are walking home. Clara’s hat
is trimmed with fresh wild hyacinths, while Maude carries
in her hand a bough of flowering hawthorn ; and between
them the two friends support a large basket, brimming
over with ferns and flowers.
74 HOMEWARD BOUND.
As they take their homeward way, they find so much
to talk about :—the sweet songs of the birds, carolling in
the air like a chime of silver bells; the tall and stately
trees, which are just putting on their robe of greenness ;
the ferns waving freely in each shady hollow ; the tinkle
of the little stream as it leaps and bounds in the dark
leafy glen; the swift flight of the dazzling butterflies,
shining in the sun like winged jewels ; the brown plump
squirrel, running from branch to branch; the hare,
timid and suspicious, quick darting across the turf to
reach its secluded burrow ; the wild blossoms clustering
on every side, and the tall feathery grasses rippling in
every fresh waft of the wind ;—these are the pleasant
things that Clara and Maude have to talk about, as they
slowly travel homeward after a day in the woods.
How happy they have been beneath the leafy boughs !
How they have roamed here and there; looking for the
blackbird’s nest, and the rabbit’s burrow,—for the grace-
ful lady fern, and the last of the spring violets ; discover-
ing in some quiet nook a glorious bed of primroses ; or
coming upon a point where the stream falls over a ledge
of rock in a tiny cascade, and looks so bright and clear
that they are tempted to drink of its waters.
Yes; they have been very happy in the wood, and to-
| morrow will return to their lessons all the more eagerly
because they have had a pleasant holiday.
AN EVENING IN JUNE.
AN EVENING IN JUNE.
Cartine the hay, the sweet-smelling hay,
With a song and a shout, at the close of day,—
=I
AN EVENING IN JUNE.
Hark to the haymakers’ old-fashioned tune
Rising aloft in the skies of June !
The sun is sinking fast in the west,
And the birds are speeding home to their nest,
While softly and sweetly sighs the breeze
Through the branches of the grand old trees—
As we take home the hay, the sweet-smelling hay,
With a song and a shout, at the close of day.
Merry the children’s voices sound,—
So sweet the blossoms they have found !—
Merry their laugh, as down by the lake
They sit, and their fragrant posies make.
But the sun is sinking fast in the west,
And the birds are speeding home to their nest ;
The day is done, and our work is o’er,
And we have gathered the precious store,—
So home we'll carry the sweet-smelling hay,
With a song and a shout, at the close of day.
EFFIE’S RIDE.
Sout, boys, shout ; blow, boys, blow ;
Shoulder your arms, and away we go !
78
EFFIE’S RIDE.
Here is a carriage of splendid make ;—
Walter, you the lead shall take ;
And Effie, of all our street the pride,
Shall be the queen, and enjoy a ride.
Poor Effie has long been very ill,
And she is pale and feeble still ;
And this, you know, is her first day out,—
So, trumpets, blow ; and shout, boys, shout !
Look at Ethel marching away,
While Harry waves his flag so gay ;
And Tommy tosses his cap on high,
Laughing and singing merrily,—
While Charlie, the laughing frolicsome elf,
Carries a sword as big as himself ;
And Willie’s trumpet, shrill and loud,
Rings in the ears of the wondering crowd.
Shout, boys, shout ; blow, boys, blow ;
Shoulder your arms, and away we go!
So down the street we march away,
While Harry waves his flag so gay ;
And Effie, of all our street the pride,
Feels quite strong as she takes her ride.
Boys and girls, we march along,
Singing aloud our merry song ;
EFFIE’'S RIDE.
=
Ne)
Singing aloud our song of glee,
For Effie is our queen, you see!
Shout, girls, shout ; blow, boys, blow ;
Shoulder your arms, and away we go!
Children we in our childish play,
As down. the street we march away,
And merry our laugh and loud our song,
As, boys and girls, we tramp along!
It well may be, in after-years,
That we shall have our sorrows and tears ;
But let us be happy while we may,—
So, boys and girls, march, march away!
80 THE LINNET’S NEST.
THE LINNET’S
NEST.
Ou, Jemmy, Jemmy,
do you think I would
take the nest from
the poor linnet? See,
there are young ones
in it; do put it back
in its place, or the
mother bird will be
unhappy when she
looks for it, and finds
it gone.
How would you
like some _ great
strong man, while
your father and
mother were away,
to carry you off for
sale, or deprive you
of your home? You
would think it very cruel. And is it less cruel of you
to rob the poor linnets of their pretty nest, which they
have made with so much trouble ; and of their little ones,
whom they are bringing up with so much care ?
I dare say they are flying about now, in search of
food for them.
LITTLE DUMPLING. 81
LITTLE DUMPLING.
DuMPLING was a strange name for a dog, was it not?
And yet it was a very suitable name; for Fanny’s dog
looked like a dumpling when he
lay asleep, with his head and his
legs all rolled up in a ball.
He was not much of a dump-
ling when Fanny first saw the
poor creature. There was little
of him—nothing but skin and
bones ; and he was too weak to
walk, and had not the spirit even
to bark.
Fanny was gathering forget-me-nots by the side of the
stream when she saw something floating down the water.
What could it be? She looked again, and then she dis-
covered itwas a poor little drowning puppy, which some |
cruel boy had flung into the brook. After watching for —
a minute or two, she saw that he was not dead; and so |
she lay down on the bank very cautiously, stretched out
her hands, and contrived to catch poor Dumpling. Then
she ran home with him, wrapped him in a rug, put him
before the fire, and gave him some warm bread and milk.
In a little while he recovered himself, and was able to
walk about. And Fanny ever since has made him quite
a pet, and taught him all nde of tricks. He can fetch
(561)
82 LITTLE DUMPLING.
and carry, open and shut the door, beg on his hind legs,
jump through a hoop, and swim like a fish.
You may be sure that Dumpling is very fond of Fanny.
He follows her wherever she goes, and seems miserable
when she is out of his sight. On Sundays, when she goes
to church, Dumpling walks as far as the gate, and there
he seats himself until the service is over. No sooner does
Fanny make her appearance than up jumps Dumpling,
and frisks and barks, and makes a terrible noise ; though
Fanny says he ought to know it is Sunday, and behave
more quietly.
But, alas, many children —who know better than
Dumpling—do not behave any better, even on Sundays!
MY DOG “OSCAR.†83
MY DOG “OSCAR.â€
You never saw such a noble fellow as my dog Oscar. He
is as brave as he is clever, and as clever as he is good-
natured. Oh, what fine fun we have together! You
should see us rolling over one another in the grass. And
then, while I lie still, he places his paws upon my chest,
as if to prevent me from getting up; and when I move,
he takes to his heels, and runs round and round me,
barking loudly, as much as to say, “This is what J call
good sport !â€
I said he was good-natured ; and so he is. He will let
sister Kitty (she is a wee girl, you know—about four
years old) ride on his back all about the garden. And
he is very clever. We put the letters to be posted in a
84 MY DOG “OSCAR.â€
small basket, and then we say, “ Post, Oscar!†Well—
would you believe it ?—he takes the basket in his mouth,
and trots away to the village post-office, where he waits
until the postmaster takes them from him.
You should see him swim! If I throw my stick into
the pond, in he jumps, and away he goes; and he swims
about until he seizes the stick. Then he comes back to
me; and oh, what a shake he gives himself when he
stands upon the bank again!
He can dive as well as swim. See! I throw my top
into the water. Of course, it sinks. “ Fetch it, Oscar !â€
There he goes, you see. Now, watch him dive right down
to the bottom of the pond. ‘“ Fetch it, Oscar!†Ah,
here he comes again ! and he has got hold of my top, you
see, with his strong, white teeth.
THE SHEPHERD-BOY.
85
THE SHEPHERD-BOY.
Now all day long, upon the hills,—
The hills so lone and grand,
Which fling a mighty shadow far
O’er all the silent land,—
All, all day long, upon the hills,
His watch did Robin keep ;
And with his faithful collie led
To pastures green his sheep.
At times he roamed across the moor,
Or where the streamlet flows,
And up the shady glen. whose side
With purple heather glows.
hop peeceeunaem cen
restos escent sacar ane DY:
i
j
86
THE SHEPHERD-BOY.
And sometimes he would pause to rest
Upon a mossy stone,
Where waving ferns for many a year
Unchecked and free had grown.
And then he’d take his rustic pipe
And play a mournful song,
Which floated down the green hill-side,
The echoing vale along.
The wind caught up the simple strain,
Its notes so soft and sweet ;
And every echo was well pleased
Such music to repeat.
His song was of the happy days
When he was yet a child,
And sat upon his mother’s knee,
And watched her as she smiled.
But now in yonder churchyard still,
Beneath the turf, she sleeps ;
And oft, as Robin thinks of her,
He checks his song, and weeps.
He sings, too, of the merry days
When he, a child, would stand
SORE ee
THE SHEPHERD-ROY.
Close by the waterfall, and clasp
His father’s ready hand.
But now in yonder churchyard still,
Beside his wife, he sleeps ;
And oft, as Robin thinks of him,
He checks his song, and weeps.
Then Robin gazes on the sky:
He marks the light above,
And knows that o’er him watches now
A Saviour’s eyes of love.
And so he pipes a thankful strain—
A strain of faith and joy;
And humbly prays that God will bless
The orphan shepherd-boy.
87
88 THE TOAD.
THE TOAD.
Way should Patty throw
her arms round her
brother’s waist, because a
toad has crept out from
under the seat in the
summer-house? Perhaps
a toad is not a pleasing-
looking animal ; but it is
harmless,—it is very use-
ful,—and there is no need
why Patty or any one
should show either fear
or disgust at its appearance.
It has no claws with which to scratch, no teeth with
which to bite. It is not poisonous, and it cannot sting.
It does more good than harm, for it feeds on worms and
insects, which do much injury to the plants; and gardeners
keep a toad in the conservatory to destroy the slugs and
snails.
If Patty thinks of these things, she will be wiser than
to show any fright the next time she sees a toad. Nor
will she ask any one to kill it. She will remember that
it is useful and inoffensive, and that God’s creatures are
not to be ill-treated or killed simply because we are silly
enough to dislike their appearance.
89
BROTHER AND SISTER.
R.
BROTHER AND SISTE
r,
Sweet Ethel stood by the open doo
And with her bright blue eyes
90
BROTHER AND SISTER.
Eagerly watched her brother’s work,
With a look of glad surprise.
“ And what are you doing, Harry?†said she ;
“ What do you seek to make ?â€
“Oh, with my knife I’m shaping a ship
To sail on yonder lake !â€â€”
“ And are you making a ship,†said she—
And smiled as she looked at him—
“ And are you making a bonny ship
That o’er the waves will swim ?â€
“ Yes, it will swim, I warrant you ;
And you shall see it sail,
With its tall thin mast and canvas white,
Before the blowing gale.â€â€”
“Oh, Harry,†then said his sister fair,
While a light shone in her eyes,
Like the pale dawn that softly spreads
Over the morning skies,—
“Oh, Harry, I’ve often wished that I
Could call some swift ship mine,
That I might sail far, far away
Where we see the stars to shine ;
BROTHER AND SISTER. : 91
“ Might sail away to some distant shore,
Across the waters green,
Where the glorious flowers that never fade,
And the gorgeous birds, are seen ;
“ Might sail away to some distant land
_ By love and mercy blest,
Where the wicked cease to trouble, and
The weary are at rest.â€
Then Harry looked in his sister’s face,—
For he could not understand
Why she should wish for a ship to sail
To that mysterious land,—
And he saw a smile upon her lips,
And a light within her eyes
Like the silver dawn that softly spreads
Over the morning skies.
“My boat shall be yours, sweet heart,†he cried—
_ “VII finish it for your sake ;
And with mast and sail ‘twill lightly skim
The waves of yonder lake.â€
But before the summer had come and gone
Sweet Ethel had passed away ;
92
BROTHER AND SISTER.
And Harry mourned for his sister dear
Through many a dreary day.
But he knew she had found her ship at last,
And had sailed.to that distant shore
Where the weary rest in their Saviour’s arms,
And the wicked trouble no more.
And though lonely he felt when she was gone,
This thought brought joy to his heart,—
That hereafter they'd meet in the Land of Love,
Never again to part !
ll
i
fi
THE PET LAMB. 93
THE PET LAMB.
Lity has three pets,—her
doll, her cat, and her
lamb,—and I think she
gives each a turn. You
see Miss Pussy does not
care about being petted
out of doors. She likes
to run about, and climb
the trees, and hunt about
after the mice and the
birds; so that she does
not go near Lily in the
field or the garden. But in the parlour she likes a warm
snug seat, and is very willing to lie in her mistress’s lap.
Then as for Miss Dollikins, you know she cannot often
be taken out for a walk. The sun is not good for her
pretty face ; and on hot summer afternoons Lily takes
her upstairs and puts her to bed, where she can sleep as
cool and comfortable as you please.
So that Lily then pays a visit to her pretty white lamb,
which is always delighted to see her.
Sometimes she carries it a nice little dish of bread and
milk, which she has taught it to eat. Sometimes she
amuses herself with stringing together the daisies and
buttercups, and hanging them round its neck.
94 THE PET LAMB.
Lily has had the lamb ever since it was a wee tiny
helpless creature, scarcely able to walk. Its dam had
died, and the farmer brought it to her for a present. She
is very fond of it, and the lamb is very fond of her; but
soon it will grow into a sheep, and Lily will be obliged to
be contented with her cat and her doll.
But Lily will grow too, and when she grows older she
will not care for lambs and kittens as pets. She will
have something else to think of; but I trust she will not
be less mindful of the wants and feelings of dumb animals.
It is sad to see how cruelly some persons treat them !
They are God’s creatures, as we are ; and can suffer pain,
as we do. Yet you will see them beaten, half-starved,
and over-worked, by many who cad/ themselves Christians.
But true Christians will never find pleasure in the suffer-
ings of others.
AT THE FAIR. 95
AT THE FAIR.
Ir is fair-day at Bradbourne ; and the village green is
covered with people dressed in their best clothes, laughing,
96 AT THE FATR.
singing, and making holiday. It comes only once a year,
they say, and they must make the most of it!
All yesterday men and women came into the village
from distant towns, and began to build up large booths and
tents, in which to sell their various goods. To make them
look gay, they decked them with flags and streamers ; and
they hung large pictures outside, to show what was sold
within, or what was being done.
In one tent you can buy cakes, and sweets, and ginger-
bread ; in another, nuts, apples, and different kinds of
fruit. Go to a third, and on paying a penny you can see
the Queen, and the Prince and Princess of Wales, and
other great personages, made of wax, and looking like
life. In another, you are introduced to a giant and a .
dwarf; in a fifth, to lions, tigers, and other wild beasts,
shut up in strong iron cages. Oh, there is plenty to see
at the fair, I can tell you!
AT THE FAIR. 97
Why, here isa great swing. “Pay a penny, and havea
ride!†No, thank you; we can swing at home; we want
to lay out our money to more advantage.
We don’t want gingerbread or nuts ; but we will take
a peep at this little bazaar—the Royal Victoria Bazaar !
as its owner calls it. What a grand name for a tent
full of toys! But I declare it is very pretty to look at!
The master is an old man, but he seems merry and hearty ;
and, certainly, he has made the place look very gay.
And how full it is of toys! See, the counter is crowded
with them; and they are hanging from the roof and sides;
and they are piled up in every corner; and chests and
baskets are brimming over with them. Toys of all kinds
and sizes,—quite a beautiful show. Oh, dear me! how
can I choose among them ?
What have you here for sale, sir?
“Oh, I have Punch with his hunch ; balls and hoops,
and red-coated troops; beads of glass and chains of brass;
(561) a
98 AT THE FAIR.
flutes, trumpets, and trays, vans, carts, gigs, and drays ;
squirts, bows, and guns, wooden cakes and buns; dolls
that can speak and birds that can squeak ; bright golden
rings and figures of kings; Jack in his box and a horse
that rocks ; rabbits and goats, ships and boats, bats and
traps, and all kinds of caps; fish, beasts, and tops, with
arks, farms, and shops;—for girls and boys, I have all
kinds of toys!â€
Well, I really do not know what to choose !
“Here are brads, nails, and tacks, saw, hammer, and
axe ; watch, key, and chain, and a carpenter’s plane; a
yacht that will float, and a new painted boat; hoe, spade,
and flail, cup, plate, and pail; frogs that will leap, and
cows, goats, and sheep ;—for girls and boys, I have all
kinds of toys !â€
Well, I will buy a kite for Charley, a ball for Tommy,
battledore and shuttlecock for Emmy, and a doll for my-
self.
‘ CHARMING ALICE. 99
ET er
eas
PULLE “be, - (a
CHARMING ALICE.
Yus, I call her “Charming Alice,†because she is charming.
It is delightful to know a girl so good as Alice Dale.
100 CHARMING ALICE.
Of course, I do not mean to say that she is without
faults. Alas, that cannot be said of any one of us, young
or old! But when her faults are pointed out to her, she
tries to correct them; and when she has done or said any-
thing wrong, she cannot rest until she has owned it, and
asked forgiveness. I have seen Alice out of temper ; but
I have also seen her sorry for it afterwards, and have
heard her go up to her mamma or papa, and beg for par-
don. And at night, when she went to bed, I have heard
her pray for God’s pardon also, which is more important
even than mamma’s or papa’s.
But why I call her “Charming†is, because she is so
unselfish, and, at the same time, so dutiful. She is
always willing to give up to her brothers and sisters ; she
is always ready to do what she is told. And she does it
with a bright smile, as if she did it willingly. Now some
boys and girls, when their parents or teachers ask them
to do this or to do that, move about quite churlishly, and
you see their obedience is owing to fear and not to love,
to fear of punishment, and not to love of their teachers
and parents. Oh, how different it is with charming
Alice! She runs to and fro so nimbly, and with such a
pleasant face, that you know she is dutiful because she is
affectionate.
Then you know how unwilling some boys and girls are
to get to their lessons. They lounge about, and make
excuses, and pretend their books are lost, and evidently
CHARMING ALICE. 101
think it a hardship that they are required. to learn any-
thing; but Alice is always eager to gain knowledge.
Sometimes she comes up to her mamma’s dressing-room,
with so many books in her arms that she can scarcely
carry them, and says, “Now, mamma, I am quite ready!â€
Is not this charming ?
Then, again, she thinks nothing of herself or her dress;
not like Maud Seymour, who is so sadly vain that it is
painful to see her. When Maud is dressed for a party,
she stands before the looking-glass, with her hands crossed,
and gazes at the image shown in it as if it was something
wonderfully beautiful! Not so Charming Alice! As soon
as she is dressed, she hastens to see if she can help one
of her sisters, or be of any service to her mamma. And
therefore I call her—Charming Alice!
102 THE HAWTHORN.
THE HAWTHORN.
Tue hedge is now covered with the beauty of the snowy
May, the blossoms of the sweet-scented hawthorn ; and
Tom and Harry are cut-
ting down large branches
of it to carry home,
where they will stick
them in jugs and basins,
and fill the rooms with
their delightful perfume.
Oh, what beautiful
flowers grow in the
shade of this pleasant
hedge!
' Pimpernel, and wild
hyacinth, and golden
marigold, and poppy red
as a rose,—no wonder Charley is making a wreath with
which to adorn his cap!
Is it not good and gracious of our Father in heaven
to furnish us with all these blessings? How dreary the
fields would look without the flowers! How cheerless the
hedges without the pretty hawthorn! How bare and
cold the trees without their leaves! Yet God might have
made them so, had it been His will; and that He has not
done so is a proof of His infinite love and goodness!
y~
EMILY’S PET BIRD. 103
EMILY’S PET BIRD.
I raiwx Emily Hill is
almost as charming as
Alice Dale; but she is
much older, and, of
course, ought to know
what is right, and to
find a pleasure in doing
her duty.
Emily is one of those
girls who make every-
body happy,— because
they like everybody, and
everybody likes them. So Emily has a pend word and a
bright smile for all her friends; and they have a kind
word and a bright smile for her. Kindness makes kind-
ness. People will be to you much what you are to them;
and if you render yourself disagreeable to others, you
must not be surprised if they render themselves disagree-
able to you !
Emily is very fond of animals. She never meets a dog
in the street without stopping to pat and caress it. She
strokes with her gentle hand the horses and cows in the
fields; she feeds all the birds around her house; she
watches over the cat and her kittens; I do believe she
feels for every insect that crawls on the ground! She has
104 , EMILY’S PET BIRD.
more pets than I can tell you; a pet pussy, a pet rabbit,
a pet squirrel, a pet goat, a pet lamb, a pet pony, and a
pet pig! And, of course, she has a pet bird; a beautiful
linnet, which her brother gave her in a fine gilded cage.
She is sorry to keep him in a cage, but she knows that if
she set him free he would starve and die, having been so
long kept in confinement.
She is very kind to her linnet, and the bird knows her
well, and begins to sing and hop about his cage as soon
as hé sees her. And if she allows him to fly about the
room, he will come and perch on her shoulder, and take
a bit of sugar from her lips; and then he gives such a
glorious burst of song, to show how happy he is in her
love and kindness.
A SONG OF SUMMER. 105
A SONG OF SUMMER.
SuMMER is come, and the hedges are green,
And the fields laugh out with their flowers ;
And a sky all cloudless, and bright, and serene,
Sheds its glory on blossomy bowers ;
And the birds with their song, and the bees with
their hum,
Seem to say, “Oh, rejoice, for the summer is come
{??
106
A SONG OF SUMMER.
How sweetly the streamlet sings in the vale,—
What a music there is in its flow !
And the rose and the eglantine down in the dale,
How richly and rarely they glow!
While the birds with their song, and the bees with
their hum,
Seem to say, “ Oh, rejoice, for the summer has come !â€
The larks rise aloft on quivering wing,
And pour out their various strains,
The bonny blue harebells are carolling
As they bend to and fro on the plain ;
While the birds with their song, and the bees with
their hum,
Seem to say, “ Oh, rejoice, for the summer has come!â€
Hark, hark, to the mower and his merry song
As he gathers the sweet-smelling hay,—
How swiftly his scythe goes sweeping along
Through all the warm summer-day !
While the birds with their song, and the bees with
their hum,
Seem to say, “ Oh, rejoice, for the summer has come!â€
Now and then a fresh shower descends on the grass,
And quenches the thirst of the flowers,
While the hues of the rainbow glorious pass
O’er the clouds of the evening hours ;
A SONG OF SUMMER. 107
And the birds with their song, and the bees with
their hum, |
Seem to say, “ Oh, rejoice, for the summer has come !â€
The squirrel is glad in the woodland shade,
And the rabbit speeds over the lea ;
There’s a sunny warmth in valley and glade,
And a splendour soft on the sea ;
While the birds with their song, and the bees with
their hum,
Seem to say, “ Oh, rejoice, for the summer has come !â€
108 PLAYING AT SOLDIERS.
TooRA-LooRA-LOO ! Rub-a-dub-a-dub ! What a noise the
children are making! What are they doing? Toora-
loora-loo! Rub-a-dub-a-dub! Why, playing at soldiers,
to be sure. George is rattling away at his new drum,
which his grandmamma gave him yesterday; Effie and
Violet are blowing their tin trumpets; Charlie is com-
mander, with a fine feather in his hat, and a wand across
his shoulder ; while Dick carries a gun, and pretends to
be a sentinel, posted to see if an enemy is coming. See,
how they hold up their heads, and keep step, just as
they have seen the soldiers do !
LITTLE NELLIE. : 109
7
,
LITTLE NELLIE.
WHat a romping, playful, merry little lass is Nellie! I
think she ought to be called Little Sunshine, for there is
110 «LITTLE NELLIE.
always a smile like sunshine on her face, and a light in
her eyes like that of the blue heavens.
Everybody loves her ; for it is pleasant to have about
you a child who has a kind word and a sweet laugh
wherever you meet her; who never gets out of temper,
or frowns, or pouts; and never thinks of herself at all,
but how she can make others happy.
I dare say you think that Nellie is too young to be
able to make others happy. I beg your pardon; the
youngest among you can do very much in this way, by
good temper, and obedience, and a loving disposition. If
you do what your mamma tells you, without cross looks
or naughty words, does not that make her happy? If
- you help to amuse your brother or sister, and lend them
your toys, does not that make them happy? Oh yes, we
we can all of us, young or old, rich or poor, do very much
to secure each other’s happiness ; and it is foolish to offer
as an excuse for doing nothing that you are too little /
Nellie is, of course, her grandpapa’s pet ; that is, he is
delighted with her charming temper and unselfishness,
and he loves her dearly. She is a sad romp at times,
and runs into his library, with her doll, or her battledore
and shuttlecock, saying, “ Now, grandpa, let you and me
have a game!†Perhaps he will reply that he is too
busy, that he has a book to read, or letters to write. If
he speaks very seriously, Nellie goes away like a good
girl ; but if she sees a smile on his lips and a twinkle in
LITTLE NELLIE. 111
his eyes, she says, “Just one game with little Nellie!
It'll do so good!†And then, grandpa has to take his
battledore, and away goes the shuttlecock between the
two of them ! *
Sometimes, however, he will take Nellie upon his
knee, and tell her some pretty stories, or repeat some
pretty songs; and I am not sure but that little Nellie
likes this better even than a game.
Laughing, romping Nellie can be grave enough at
times, I can tell you. Oh, you should see her learning
her lessons! She draws up her tiny rosebud of a mouth
until you long to kiss it; and quite wrinkles her fore-
head in her effort to commit her lessons to memory.
And while she is saying them to her governess, you
would think she could never smile—she is so sober and
quiet! But when they have been nicely said, and she
has put away her books in proper order, away she bounds
for a bit of frolic, and you hear her laugh ringing like the
sound of silver bells.
Now, you who read this book may be as happy and
as much loved as Nellie, if you will be like her in good
temper, kindness, dutifulness, and the wish to please.
Make others happy, and you yourselves will be happy !
112 THE MILK-MAID.
THE MILK-MAID.
Macers, dear Maggie, where go you now?
Oh, I am going to milk the cow,—
Yes, I am going, with pail and stool,
To milk the cow in the evening cool.
Blossom is waiting for me; I hear
Her voice raised aloud in the evening clear. —
Maggie, dear Maggie, I'll go with you now,
And watch you while milking the good milch-cow.
THE APPLE-TREE. 113
THE APPLE-TREE.
Howdelightful an orchard
looks when the trees are
covered with their rich
delicate blossoms! Those
of the pear and the cherry
are white as snow ; those
of the apple-tree are softly
touched with pink. The
apple is a little later than
the pear and cherry ; but
when all are in bloom to-
gether, asyou will seethem
in the south, I do not know a prettier sight th than an orchard.
And it is very delightful—is it not ?—to watch the
blossoms gradually giving place to the fruit, and the fruit
growing larger every day, until the warm suns of summer
have brought it into a ripe condition, and you see the
branches bending beneath their weight of bright red
cherries, or purple plums, or rosy-cheeked apples, as the
case may be.
There are different kinds of apples, as I dare say you
know. Some are not fit to be eaten raw ; they must be
| boiled or baked before they are really wholesome eating.
| Others are kept to be made into a pleasant kind of drink,
| called cider. And then all eating apples are not alike.
; (561)
114 THE APPLE-TREE.
Some are hard, and some are soft ; some are brown, some
of a beautiful bright green, and some with rosy cheeks
like Bessy’s !
In Mr. Thomson’s orchard is a favourite apple-tree,
which bears a fine crop of fruit every autumn ;—oh, such
delicious, juicy, sunny-cheeked apples! This is called
the Children’s Tree ; and when the fruit is perfectly ripe,
the children have a holiday on purpose to gather the
apples.
Edgar takes a ladder, and climbs up into the tree as
nimbly as possible ; shaking the boughs until the beauti-
ful fruit fall in a shower on the soft grass beneath ; and
picking some of the finest apples, for Kitty and Alfred to
catch. Then the servants bring a basket, and carry the
apples into the house, where they are carefully put away
in the store-room, to be kept sound and good until they
are wanted.
THE SEA-SHORE. 115
THE SEA-SHORE.
Wuen Walter goes down to the sea-side in his holidays,
he has fine fun, I can tell you. Having been a good boy
while at school, and gained a prize by his industry, he
116 THE SEA-SHORE.
knows he has a right to enjoy himself, and he knows that
his parents wish him to do so.
Then he is not like some rude, boisterous boys, who
shun the company of their sisters. He is delighted to
_join them in their walks along the shore; and nothing
pleases him better than to take off his boots and stock-
ings, and wade into the bright warm sea-water, looking
for shells and sea-weed for his sisters to place’ among
their little knick-knacks.
Sometimes he gets a couple of men to launch his papa’s
‘boat ; and as soon as it is afloat he jumps in, seizes the
oars, and cries, “ Now, miss, are you for a row to-day?
Fine day, miss ; no wind ; sure not to be tossed about,
miss! Come for a row, miss!†And as he is very care-
ful, and knows how to manage a boat very well, his
sisters frequently go with him; only, of course, they
never venture far away from the shore.
Yes, I assure you Walter is exceedingly happy at the
sea-side ; he finds so much to amuse him. Sometimes,
rowing ; sometimes, sailing; sometimes, fishing ; some-
times, bathing; I should like to know who could be
dull ?
And, for my part, I think the mere sight of the sea
does one good! It is so grand to watch its waves roll-
ing in upon the shore, and to see them beat against the
rocks in foam and spray, while the summer sun seems to
change them into billows of light and glory.
WEE MISS DOLLIKINS. 117
We AW Is a
et € _—
") i
WEE MISS DOLLIKINS.
Sweet Miss Dollikins,
Dear Miss Dollikins!
Would you like to hear about wee Miss Dollikins ?
Oh, she was tall, and she was fair,
With bright black eyes and curly hair ;
And very red lips, and very straight nose ;
Ten fingers, and—the same number of toes !
And she had a rose upon either cheek ;
And a tiny voice, much like a squeak !
Sweet Miss Dollikins,
Dear Miss Dollikins!
Would you like to hear about wee Miss Dollikins ?
Our little friend had mistresses two,—
Frolicsome Kate and Meddlesome Loo ;
——
118 WEE MISS DOLLIKINS.
And great was the love that each expressed
For this quiet, handsome, and well-behaved guest ;—
‘Tis true they complained she could not talk,
Though she went with them daily for a walk.
Sweet Miss Dollikins, f
Dear Miss Dollikins!
Would you like to hear about wee Miss Dollikins ?
Every morning, she was dressed
Quite like a lady, in her best ;
They combed her hair and they washed her face,
And arranged her ribbons with very much grace ;
And if the day was sunny and fair,
They took her out—for change of air !
Oh, Miss Dollikins,
Good Miss Dollikins !
Would you like to hear about wee Miss Dollikins ?
Every night, about half-past eight,
Says Meddlesome Loo to. Frolicsome Kate,—
“T think Miss Dolly must go to bed,—
How dull are her eyes! how heavy her head !â€
So they quickly undress her, and make her “ all right,â€
As Katy is pleased to observe, “for the night.â€
Oh, Miss Dollikins,
Good Miss Dollikins!
Would you like to hear about wee Miss Dollikins ?
WEE MISS DOLLIKINS. 119
Now it chanced, one dreary winter day,
When Kate and Loo were engaged at play,
That they thought their little friend looked cold!
So Loo of Dollikins’ arm took hold,
And led her up to the fire, and snug
She seated her down on the woolly rug.
Oh, Miss Dollikins,
Dear Miss Dollikins !
Would you like to hear about wee Miss Dollikins?
Well, there before the fire she sate,
While Loo was playing with sister Kate ;
But such was the heat that it melted quite
The lips so red, and the cheeks so bright,
And the nose so straight, of their little friend,—
And this was Miss Dollikins’ wretched end !
Oh, Miss Dollikins,
Poor Miss Dollikins!
Melted to death was wee Miss Dollikins!
A NEW GUEST.
A NEW GUEST.
Carry and Nelly, and Kitty and Fred,
Are seated quite happy at tea ;
With a cup of sweet milk, and jam on their bread,
Contented they well may be!
And Carry, I’m sure, with very good grace,
At the head of the table takes grandmamma’s place!
To-day they are all of them dressed in their best,
With ribbons and bows in their hair,—
They are honoured, you see, with quite a new guest,
A lady beyond compare!
How pretty she looks, with her eyes of bright blue !
O dearest Miss Dollikins, how do you do!
LILY’S DREAM. 12]
LILY’S DREAM.
Yus ; Lily had fallen asleep in the garden, under a little
bower of flowering shrubs, and during her sleep a dream
came to her.
122 LILY’S DREAM.
She dreamed that all the garden was suddenly lighted
up with tiny silver lamps, and that every bud and blossom
began to quiver, until out of each stepped a little fairy,—
all male fairies from one side of the garden, and all
females from the other.
Then there came a burst of music; and the fairies
assembled in two rows, which marched towards each
other and back again, three times bowing and bending
low, and waving their plumed hats and shining fans.
Suddenly, from the middle of the fountain which
sparkled on the garden terrace, a splendid young fairy
leaped out; and all the others immediately gathered
round him in a ring, saluting him with great respect, and
shouting, “ Hail, hail, all hail!†The prince, for such his
crown and the star on his breast showed him to be, lifted
his hand, and all were quiet. “Fairies!†he cried, in a
voice like the warbling of a bird, “I am in want of a
queen, for I feel lonely and dull; I need the smiles of a
queen to cheer and sustain me!†Then all the fairies
shouted, “Thou shalt have a queen! And, behold, here is
one waiting for thee! Her name is Lily, and—†“Lily!â€
said the prince; “I dote upon the name;†and the fairies
making way for him, he advanced to the sleeper. But
here Lily awoke, in a fright lest he should seize her ;
and lo! a thrush was singing over her head, her dog
Carlo was lying at her feet, the flowers were drooping in
the sun, and Lily knew that she had had a dream!
THE ARCHERS. 123
THE ARCHERS.
THE Squire, as we
call him at Brad-
bourne, has invited
his young friends
to try their skill
with bow and
arrow.
See, there is the
target, all white
and gold, divided
into rings, with a
great black spot in
the middle called
the bull’s_ eye.
Now, the archer
has to send his
arrow into the
bull’s eye, if he can ;
if not, into one of
the rings. The
nearer the bull’s i
eye, the greater hy | ben THE Si
the credit. It seems very easy ; but I assure you it needs
great skill and coolness to hit the target, and it is still
more difficult to hit the bull’s eye. You must aim quite
124 THE ARCHERS.
straight, and at the same time you must allow for the
wind, and you must take care to pull the string of your
bow with enough force to send the arrow home.
Every archer brings a bow, and a quiver, or case, full of
.arrows. The arrows are provided with sharp brass points
to make them stick, and feathers are set in at the head to
make them fly.
Charles and Jane have both od their luck, and both
have sent their arrows into the outer ring. Now it is
Alice’s turn.
Alice is a famous archer, and everybody expects that
she will hit the bull’s eye: and the Squire has promised a
beautiful prize—a silver arrow—to the one who hits the
bull’s eye oftenest.
Well, it is a pretty game; and here in the grassy park,
with a blue sky above and tall trees around, I think it is
as pleasant for those who look on as for those who play.
The Squire has had a tent erected, and inside are cakes,
and fruit, and lemonade; so that if his friends do not
enjoy themselves, it will be their own fault. But you
should hear them cheer, when any player makes a hit;
you would feel certain they were happy enough! And
look at the bright smiling faces around ; what do you say
to them ?
OSCAR THE BOLD.
OSCAR THE BOLD.
Let me tell you the story of Oscar the bold,—
It’s a story that cannot too often be told,—
For I’m very well sure that none ever knew
A dog so courageous, so gen’rous, and true !
Come, listen to me, for ’'d have you to know,
When uncle came over the seas, long ago,
126 OSCAR THE BOLD.
Good Oscar came with him—a dog young and brave,
Who often would take a leap in the wave.
Now one day it chanced, when a strong gale was blowing,
And billow on billow was furious flowing,
A seaman fell off the mainyard with a cry,—
“Help! help, my brave comrades ! help, or I die!â€
But fierce was the wind, and heavy the sea,
And none dared to plunge where the billows rolled free,
Save Oscar, who boldly sprang into the wave,
And gallantly struggled the seaman to save.
He seized him at last, and kept him afloat
Till his comrades could rapidly lower a boat; __
Then they rowed with all speed: and happy were they
That Oscar had rescued their brother that day.
Now Oscar is old, and his eyes have grown dim,
But he still loves to dive, and he still loves to swim,—
And oh, you should see how steady and cool
He fetches a stick from the depths of the pool!
THE TWO FRIENDS. 127
2.
THE TWO FRIENDS.
Mr. VeRNon’s school is well known in Bradbourne and
all the country round as a capital school, where boys are
128 THE TWO FRIENDS.
taught not only to be scholars, but to be Christian gentle-
men.
Mr. Vernon is very kind, though very firm; and he
likes to see his pupils happy. He is strict with their |
lessons, and very severe if he detects them in a want of
truthfulness or honesty, or in idleness and selfishness. But
in their play-hours he wishes them to enjoy themselves ;
and often goes into the play-ground to look on, while
they are contending at football or playing at cricket.
He would not be pleased, however, if he saw any violence
or signs of anger; for he often tells them that even in
their play boys can be gentlemen, and that the secret of
true enjoyment is to think of the happiness of others
before you think of your own.
His boys are very fond of him, and are always anxious
to please him. He makes their studies quite delightful,
for he has such a nice clear way of explaining everything,
and he seems to know how to give interest to even the
dullest lessons. So he has quite a happy family around
him, and the scholars love their teacher, because he loves
them.
Edgar Granville and Walter Douglas are two of his
best boys, and of course Mr. Vernon feels a pride in their
good behaviour and rapid progress. They are called the
Two Friends by their schoolfellows, because they are
always together. They sit side by side in school ; in the
play-ground they play the same games; and you may
THE TWO FRIENDS. 129
often see them taking a quiet walk, Walter with his arm
round Edgar’s neck.
Last winter, when all the boys were out skating, Walter
was making fine flourishes and circles at one end of the
pond, while Edgar was putting on his skates to start from
the other end, and join him in the middle. But the ice
- proved to be thinner than was supposed, and‘as Walter
glided over a rather dangerous part it gave way, and he
fell in. Oh, how terrified were all the boys! How they
shouted and ran for help! Edgar, however, quietly
threw aside his skates, ran across the ice, and plunged in,
for he knew that Walter could not swim. Fortunately,
‘he got hold of his jacket and dragged him up to the sur-
face ; and then, putting one arm round his waist, he kept
him and himself from sinking until assistance came. And
so, you see, Edgar saved Walter’s life.
They had been great friends before, but they have been
greater friends ever since.
(861)
130
LOOKING FOR FATHER.
LOOKING FOR FATHER.
Ou, sister, come up to the cliff with me,
And we will watch across the sea,
Till, dancing in the morning’s light,
Our father’s boat shall come in sight.
- Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea !
Pale is our mother’s cheek and wan,
So long our father has been gone ;
Pale is her cheek with many fears,
And dim her eye with silent tears.
Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea!
Thy children wait for thee forlorn,
And rise expectant every morn ;
And every night to Heaven they pray
That He will send you with the day.
Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea!
Oh, dangerous is the sailor's life,
For he must brave the tempest’s strife,
When the swift lightning flashes bright
Through the dark shadows of the night.
A\\
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Wy RN
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Ny JI NN. Wl dA
DM 2. LAY
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LOOKING FOR FATHER.
LOOKING FOR FATHER.
Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea !
Oh, dangerous is the sailor’s life,
For he must brave the tempest’s strife,
When the wild fury of the gale
Strikes down the mast and rends the sail.
Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea!
Oh, dangerous is the sailor’s life,
For he must brave the tempest’s strife,
When foaming waves run “ mountain-high,â€
And seem as they would lash the sky!
Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea !
And he must dare the frightful shock
When the ship strikes the hidden rock ;
Or, flung upon the stormy shore,
Is lost amid the breakers’ roar !
Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea !
And oft beneath the dark-blue wave
The sailor finds an unknown grave ;
While in his home the dear ones mourn
For him who never will return !
LOOKING FOR FATHER. 133
Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea!
But oh, may God in heaven save
Our father from an ocean-grave ;
His vessel o’er the waters guide
With favouring breeze and helpful tide !
Swift flow the waves; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea!
Six weary months it is, and more,
Since father left Old England’s shore ;
And oh, with anguish keen, and pain,
We long to see his smile again !
. Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Come, father, come across the sea!
Oh, sister, come up to the cliff with me,
And we will watch across the sea !
And look !—hurrah ! the ship’s in sight,
And now she shows her pennon bright.
Swift flow the waves ; the wind blows free ;
Father has come across the sea!
134 A MOTHER AND HER FAMILY.
A MOTHER AND HER FAMILY.
How very happy Mrs. Pussy and. her little ones seem to
be! It is a warm sunny day, and she has taken her chil-
dren out for an airing in the garden, where they will not
be frightened by Mr. Carlo’s barking. They cannot walk,
of course ; but pussy takes them up in her mouth, one by
one, and carries them where she wishes them to remain.
And then, you see, she stretches herself full length on the
ground, and basks in the delightful sunshine, of which she
is very fond, while her kittens roll over her, and play
with her tail, and amuse themselves in various ways.
Both her eyes are shut ; but she is not asleep, not she!
And now and then, when the kittens become a little too
troublesome, she gives them a soft pat with her paw, as
much as to say, “ Mind what you're about !â€
—
FROLICSOME FRISK. 135
FROLICSOME FRISK.
“Ou, it is all very well
for you to be merry,
Frisk,†said Kate to her
dog one day; “you have
no horrid lessons to learn ;
no copies to write; no
sums to do; no music to
practise; no handker-
chiefs to hem, as I have!
You just éat and drink
and play, and play and
eat and drink; and when
you are tired, you lie down on the rug or the couch,
and sleep; and when I go out for a walk, you go too,
and run to and fro as you like, and bark, and jump,
and frolic about—all very fine, Master Frisk! Dear me,
you have nothing to do but amuse yourself from morning
to night; and you have as much nice food as you can eat;
and you sleep as much as you like; and you are kept nice
and clean ; and you have no chain about your neck, but
only a soft and handsome collar, with this long beautiful
ribbon attached to it. Oh, you are a happy dog, Master
Frolicsome Frisk !â€
“And you are a happy girl, Miss Lazy Kate,†said her
mother, who had overheard her little speech ; “ you have
Lec Re
136 FROLICSOME FRISK.
no hard work to do to get your living; you have nice
clothes, and a comfortable home, and plenty to eat and
drink. You go out for a walk whenever the weather is
fine, and sometimes for a drive. You have loving parents,
who do all they can to make you happy. You have
nothing to do but eat and drink and play, and play and
| eat and drink, except a few lessons. That is, in order that
“you may not grow up ignorant and useless, you have to
practise on the piano, and learn a little needlework, and
how to write and read, and some other important things;
and when these lessons are at an end, you have nothing
to do but amuse yourself. Oh, you are a happy little girl,
Miss Lazy Kate !â€
And Kate thought so too, and resolved not to grumble
any more about her lessons. |
Wuat is Rover chasing over the green 1
Is it a rabbit that he has seen %
sen
INDUSTRIOUS BESSIE. 137
INDUSTRIOUS BESSIE.
Way, Bessie, you are always at
work !
No, indeed, says Bessie; |
give too much time to play.—
But I am sure she does not.
You hardly ever see Bessie but
she is reading or working. If
she goes into the garden to
enjoy the sunshine, and the
AESMALL ~~
ae INDUSTRIOUS BESSIE.
_beauty of the flowers, and the music of the joyous birds,
she takes a book with her, or else her knitting or sewing.
I don’t think I ever saw her really idle ; that is, doing
nothing at all. She often says she cannot think of wast-
ing the time that God has given her; it was given as
something to be valued, to be made use of—something
by which good might be done. But then Bessie is more
thoughtful than most girls of her age; and has had the
advantage of being carefully and lovingly brought up by
watchful parents.
Some children will think that Bessie must be very
dull. But, indeed, she is not. I never saw a happier
child than Bessie, and she has always a smile for you
when you speak to her. She does play sometimes ; and
she is fond of her garden, and of a good brisk walk. But,
you see, many children think of play first, and of work
second—or rather of work not at all; while Bessie thinks
of work first, and then of play. And Bessie’s way is the
wiser, better, and happier.
YOUTH AND OLD AGE. 139
ae eae
YOUTH AND OLD AGE.
GRANDPAPA is very old now, but he likes to dress just as
he did when he was a very young man. He wears his
silver-white hair tied in a knot behind the head with a
neat black ribbon ; and his legs are clothed in breeches
and black silk stockings, according to the fashion of fifty
years ago. People wonder that Mr. Vane wild dress him-
self in such an odd, old-fashioned way ; but they forget
that it is the dress of his early years, and that he has
140 YOUTH AND OLD AGE.
grown accustomed to it. Besides, it reminds him of the
days when he was strong, healthy, and vigorous, and life
seemed full of happiness and pleasure. Now, alas! he is
feeble and broken down, and can hardly move about
without assistance. .
Still, he is not unhappy. His daughter watches over
him with the fondest love, and he delights to gather his
grandchildren around him.
He finds it very pleasant to sit in the garden upon
sunny afternoons, watching Flory and Nelly at their play.
Sometimes Flory puts Nelly in a little chaise or go-cart,
and wheels her into the field; and when they have
gathered a lapful of wild-flowers, back they come to the
place where grandpapa is sitting, and offer him a nosegay.
It is very pleasant to see children so affectionate to the
aged. Gray hairs are deserving of all honour ; and it is |
only the foolish, hard-hearted, and selfish who will treat
them with unkindness or neglect.
Let us hope that grandpapa will live many years, to
see Flory and Nelly grow into good and graceful women.
CARELESS TOMMY. 141
CARELESS TOMMY.
Or course, Tommy has no slate-pencil! His master asks
him to write down some questions which he is to answer
on his slate, and, lo and behold, Master “ommy has no
pencil! That is Tommy’s careless way, : id his careless
way is continually bringing him into trouble.
Sometimes, when he is about to leave for school, he
can’t find his hat. At other
times, when the writing-class is
called up, he has lost his pen or
his copy-book. If he goes out to
play at cricket, his bat is missing ;
and when he begins to dress in
the morning, he does not know
where he has put his hair-brush.
Everybody calls him Careless
Tommy! You should see him
when he comes in from school or from a walk. He
throws down his cap in one place, his comforter in
another, his books or stick in a third! He forgets how
much trouble he causes others as well as himself, and how |
much precious time is wasted in looking for the things
which he loses or misplaces. Carelessness is really a sin ;
and I wish all good boys and girls would remember that
there should be a place for everything, and that every-
thing should be in its place.
142 THE VILLAGE HOLIDAY.
THE VILLAGE HOLIDAY.
To-pay the whole village is keeping holiday ; and all the
lads and lasses have gone up into the Squire’s park, to
dance and sing under the trees, and play at “ Follow
THE VILLAGE HOLIDAY. 143
my leader,†and other lively games. Some of the younger
ones are gathering flowers, and handfuls of rushes; others
are sitting and chatting in the cool shade of the trees;
and others, again, have found their way to the mossy
bank of the stream, and are watching the swiftness with
which its bright waters carry down the flowers they drop
into them. Happy they all of them are; for it is a
bright and sunny day.
And when the sky above is blue and cloudless ; when
the soft balmy wind whispers tenderly through the leafy
boughs ; when the birds fill the air with the merry music
of their tuneful voices ; when the sunshine spreads like a
flood of golden light into every nook and corner, who can
be otherwise than happy !
When the winter is over and gone; when the trees are
all clothed in their fresh young greenness; when the
flowers shine like stars among the thick strong grass,
and the green blades of the wheat cover the corn-field ;
when the earth feels the power and joy of spring, who can
be otherwise than happy! I can fancy the lads and
lasses of the village joining hands, and singing a welcome
to the Spring :— |
O bright and charming Spring !
Thou hast come on welcome wing,
Giving back to us the balm and beauty of the flowers ;
And the stream is flowing free,
And the leaf buds on the tree,
And the birds are warbling loud through all the sunny hours !
144
THE VILLAGE HOLIDAY.
O bright and charming Spring !
Thou hast come on welcome wing,
And the cowslip once more raises its tall and graceful head ;
And happy is the field
In the blessings thou wilt yield, |
With the grasses and soft mosses that everywhere are spread.
O bright and charming Spring !
Thou hast come on welcome wing,
And the gallant fisher-boy sails his bark upon the sea ;
And with a merry song
The ploughman plods along,
With his iron ploughshare drawing straight furrows o’er the lea.
O bright and charming Spring !
Thou hast come on welcome wing,
And the violets are shining in many a leafy dale ;
And the streams are running free
To the bosom of the sea,
Across the daisied meadows, and through the echoing vale.
O bright and charming Spring !
Thou hast come on welcome wing,
And brought back to us the balm and beauty of the flowers ;
And with many a cheerful voice
Earth hastens to rejoice,
While the birds are warbling loud through all the sunny hours.
GENEROUS ANNIE. 145
Annie Hunt is one of the most generous girls I know.
There is nothing selfish or greedy about her. Ifshe buys
a bun, or if her grandmother sends her a birthday cake,
(561) 10
146 GENEROUS ANNIE.
she cannot rest until she has shared it with her brothers
and sisters, or schoolfellows. I know some little girls who,
if they get a new toy or a new doll, always want to keep
it to themselves. But not so Annie. She is willing at
any time to lend her newest plaything, and will gladly go
without if it amuses somebody. The first day she had
her large hoop, she lent it to Maggie Brown ; yes, before
she had had one run with it herself. Her aunt sent her
a beautiful picture-book. As Annie took it out of the
parcel, Kitty Lee saw it, and said, “Oh, how I should
like to look at that jolly book!†Annie immediately
handed it to her, and told her to keep it until she had
quite done with it.
And so, too, if she sees a poor man or woman begging,
she hastens to give them some food, or else whatever
money she may have in her pocket. Only a day or two
ago, she was going with her governess into the town to
buy a battledore, and as they passed along the river-side
Annie saw a poor boy sitting under the trees. His jacket
was in tatters ; his neck was all bare, though the weather
was cold; and he had neither shoes nor stockings. _Then,
as for his face, it was so pale and thin. Poor boy, he was
evidently very hungry. Annie ran up to him at once,
took her bright new shilling from her pocket, and gave it
to him! Of course, she had no battledore ; but she was
much happier without it than with it, for she knew she
had saved an orphan boy from starving.
TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT! 147
TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT!
THERE is a very great difference in the characters of boys
and girls. Some are good, dutiful, unselfish ; others are
disobedient, ill-tem-
pered, greedy. Now,
it is easier and plea-
santer to be good
than to be naughty,
if you begin in time,
and take care to keep
in the right way.
Form good habits
when you are young,
and they will abide }
by you in after-years. 7
But the boy who tells
stories and wastes his
time is not likely to
grow up into a truth-
ful, industrious man
—is he? And as no
one likes to see idle
and wicked men, it is
not pleasant to see idle and wicked boys.
Tommy Smith and Robbie Mowbray go to the same
school, and are in the same class; but they are not the
148 TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT!
least like one another. Robbie is fond of fun at proper
times, and is as brave as a young lion; but he always
learns his\lessons, is respectful to his teachers, and would
scorn to tell an untruth, or to covet what did not belong
to him.
Now Tommy Smith, I am sorry to say, is just the
opposite. He seldom knows a lesson thoroughly, and he
seems to take a pleasure in giving his masters trouble.
He is always thinking of play ; and what is even worse,
you cannot trust him with anything, nor can you believe
a word he says. I am shocked to say it, but his school-
fellows call him “ Fibbing Tom,†because he tells so many
“ fibs,’—which, you know, is just a schoolboy’s word for
“ falsehoods.†'
Oh, how I do dislike a boy or man who tells not the
truth! What can be meaner, shabbier, more contemptible
than a lie? And we know how hateful it is to God.
The Bible speaks of awful punishments being reserved
for those who give way to untruthfulness.
Then, too, Tommy is greedy, and greediness makes
people dishonest. They do not mind what they do, so
long as they secure what they covet.
Robbie was going down the lane one day which runs
past the vicar’s garden, when who should he see but
Tommy Smith, clinging to the low stone wall. When he
caught sight of Robbie he looked rather ashamed, and
blushed ; but soon he recovered himself, and said: “I
TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT! 149
say, Robbie, what stunning apples the vicar’s trees grow,
don’t they! Look at these ripe, juicy, rosy-cheeked
fellows.â€
“ Yes, they are very fine,†replied Robbie ; “ but what
are you doing on the vicar’s wall ?â€
“Oh, I intend to help myself to some of these jolly
apples ; and if you promise not to peach, I'll share them
with you.â€
“They are not yours or mine, Robbie, and what you
say sounds very like stealing.â€
“ What a milksop you are!†cried Tommy ; “ well, be
off, and I'll eat them myself.â€
Robbie made an attempt to turn Tommy from his
wicked design, but it was of no use ; and so, with a sigh,
he went on his way to school. Next day he heard that
the vicar’s servants had caught Tom in the act of steal-
ing, and given him a whipping which he was not likely
to forget for some time.
150 THE FLOWER OF THE VILLAGE.
\ THE FLOWER OF THE VILLAGE.
Tue Bradbourne folk call Mary Simpson the “ Flower of
the Village ;†and, for my part, I think they are quite
right.
She is what is called a “regular English girl ;†that is,
she has bright blue eyes, and light brown hair, and a com-
plexion all red and white, like roses and lilies. She is not
beautiful, however ; and what, after all, is beauty? An
attack of illness may deprive you of your good looks ; but
no illness could deprive Mary Simpson of her great charm,
—her open, sunny, good-tempered smile.
You will see some girls with a cross look always on
their faces ; others with a vain look, as much as to say,
“Do you not see how pretty, or how well-dressed, I am ?â€
Now, this is very disagreeable ; but how delightful it is to
see a kindly, good-natured, cheerful face, with eyes that
beam with the light of truth and affection !
I often meet Mary Simpson in the morning, as she
crosses the wood on her way to Farmer Thompson’s to
get a jugful of milk. She is very fond of flowers—I think
all good girls are—and sometimes she stops to gather a
nosegay for her aunt, and to admire the beautiful plants
with which the wood is so rich and gay.
The Flower of the Village is Mary Simpson.
You will wonder why she is called so, for, as I have
told you, she is not beautiful. But it is because she is so
THE FLOWER OF THE VILLAGE.
152 THE FLOWER OF THE VILLAGE.
fair, and bright, and sweet-tempered. © The teacher at the
Sunday school says there are many good girls in Brad-
bourne, but Mary is the best.
Do not you think this is a noble character to bear? To
be the best girl, the Flower of the Village! No wonder
Mary Simpson is so happy! No wonder that she has such
an open, merry, good-tempered smile!
Yet Mary is an orphan. She has neither father nor
mother ; both died when she was very young. She lives
with her aunt ; and as she is but a poor single woman, you
may be sure that she has not many comforts, and that
Mary has to work hard and endure much. Still, she
always wears the same happy look; is always good-
tempered and obliging ; ready, as people say, todo any-
thing for anybody ; and never thinking of herself at all.
Mary has two great pleasures, however. She is fond
of flowers, and fond of going to church. Her little bit of
garden is always bright and trim ; and she knows every
nook and corner of the woods where the sweetest wild
flowers lurk.
Then, on Sundays, she goes to church; and, oh! how
she enjoys the music of the organ, as it rolls down the
vaulted aisles, and the rich full sound of voices of praise
as they go up in hymn and psalm to God.
She not only goes to church, but to the Sunday school,
where she learns to read the Bible, and numerous pretty
hymns ; and in the week-day evenings she goes to the
THE FLOWER OF THE VILLAGE. 153
village school, where she is taught much that is useful for
her to know. —
Happy, good-tempered, innocent Mary! Long may
you remain the Flower of the Village.
Flowers there are of radiant hue,
Very beautiful to view,—
Flowers that like jewels shine,
Flowers of odour most divine,—
Flowers sweet, and bright, and fairy,—
But the Village Flower is bonny Mary !
194 IN THE SWING.
V Aside
sols
IN THE SWING.
Merrity, merrily, here we go,
Up and down, and to and fro!
Pull, Jessie, pull, and Freddy too,—
Or is the work too hard for you ?
’Tis your turn next, and you shall go
Up and down, and to and fro ;
Up, and up, and up,—so high,
You'll seem almost to touch the sky ;
And down, and down, and down, so low,
That nearly to the ground you'll go.
Oh, children, ’tis a merry thing
Between the branches thus to swing,
While up and down, and to and fro,
Like a swift-winged bird we go !
THE BUTTERFLY. 15
Or
THE BUTTERFLY.
How pleasant it is in the
sunny garden on the after-
noon of a bright summer
day !
Do you not like the
sweet scent of the flowers ?
And is it not a delight to
gaze upon their various
colours? Yonder bed is
full of scarlet geraniums ;
here is another crowded
with purple pansies ; in Pay
one corner blooms the delicate pink rose ; in another you
may see and smell the rich carnations.
And oh, how joyous is the song of the birds as they fly
from one tree to another, or chase each other in the air,
or answer the call of their mates.
Here is a beautiful butterfly fluttering among the
flowers. Look at its wings; they seem painted with the
most dazzling tints! Do not try to catch it, Maria ; it is
so light and frail that you would be sure to injure its
wings, even if you did not kill it.
Do you know that that butterfly was once a cater-
pillar? You do not like caterpillars, I know, and call
them ugly; yet this airy, fairy creature of a butterfly
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156 THE BUTTERFLY.
was once a caterpillar. And then, after feeding on the
green leaves, it spun for itself a silken case, ‘called a
cocoon ; and there it lay for a while, until its wings began
to grow, and it stretched out its long thin legs, and it
was able to break through its cocoon and fly into the
warm air.
Do you know the difference between a moth and a
butterfly? The former flies about late in the evening ;
the latter in the day-time. The horns or feelers of the
former are pointed at the end ; those of the latter are
thick and rounded, like clubs.
I do not like to see children catching butterflies, for
they are useless when caught, and their beautiful colours
are quickly spoiled by the touch of ungentle hands. And
it is cruel to keep them in confinement, for we cannot
feed them. Persons sometimes make collections of very
fine specimens, but then they catch them in little nets.
THE WOODPECKER. 157
Harry and Kate, in their walk through the woods, have
found a woodpecker engaged in making his nest. He has
not heard their feet on the soft turf, or he would quickly
take to flight, for he is a shy wild bird.
Most birds build their nests of moss, grass, and leaves,
which they line with feathers ; but the woodpecker searches
about until he meets with the decayed trunk of an old
tree. Then, clinging to the trunk with his stout claws,
he digs away at the wood with his sharp strong bill, and
bores a deep hole, at the bottom of which his mate lays
her eggs.
He gets his food in much the same manner. That is,
he taps away at the hollow bark, and the sound frightens
158 THE WOODPECKER.
the insects concealed in every chink and crevice. Then
they come forth to see what it all means: the woodpecker
extends his tongue, and devours them at his leisure.
Often the woodpecker leaves the trees, and hunts for
prey along the ground. How pleased he is if he come
upon an ants’ nest; and how quickly he swallows the
unfortunate little ants! He is also partial to beetles.
And you know you would
get tired if kept always to
one kind of food. You like a
change, do you not? So does
the woodpecker; and after
breakfasting on ants and
beetles, he flies away to make
his dinner off the nice ripe
fruit in the garden; apples,
pears, cherries, peaches,— he
likes them all!
The song or cry of the wood-
pecker is very peculiar. Some-
times it sounds like a peal of
hearty laughter ; and the next moment it is so sad and
plaintive, you would think the bird was weeping. So
you see that the woodpecker is altogether an interesting
bird.
THE VILLAGE GREEN. 159
THE VILLAGE GREEN.
In most English villages you will find a nice open space
of grassy turf, which is free to everybody, and is called
the Village Green..
Here, perhaps, will be the well from which the vil-
lagers draw their water; and here, too, they bring their
: clothes, to dry in the breezy air and
the bright sun. Here their cow or
their donkey may wander in peace, and
crop the sweet wholesome grass; and
here the boys come for their noisy
games, such as “ cricket†or “ prisoners’
base.†There is always something to
; see on the village green.
Polly Smith, you see, has been sent
wh
sie
_—
160 THE VILLAGE GREEN. ! ‘
to get a pitcher of water, and in playing with her dog
has let it slip from her hand. There it lies, broken in
pieces! Poor Polly! Kitty Brown tells her not to cry ;
but Polly knows her parents cannot afford to buy new
pitchers, and that if she had been more careful it would
not have been broken. One thing at a time, Polly!
You can’t play when you are sent on an errand without
falling into some misfortune. I hope, however, your
parents will forgive you this time, Polly!
But children too often forget that carelessness is a
very grave fault. They expect to be forgiven immedi-
ately, though they may have forgotten an errand, or
broken some useful article, or spilled their tea or coffee.—
“Oh,†they say, “it was only an accident!†But acci-
dents can nearly always be avoided by a little prudence
and a little thoughtfulness ; and I do not see why they
are to be excused.