Citation
The Santa Claus story book

Material Information

Title:
The Santa Claus story book
Uniform Title:
Cinderella
Beauty and the beast
Little Red Riding Hood
Place of Publication:
New York
Publisher:
McLoughlin Bros.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
280 p., [2] leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 27 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Christmas -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1893 ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre:
Children's stories
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- New York -- New York
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Frontispiece printed in colors.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026650717 ( ALEPH )
ALG4886 ( NOTIS )
38037002 ( OCLC )

Aggregation Information

JUV:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature
IUF:
University of Florida

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Full Text


























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ML OUGHLIN EPRD'S





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Copyrignt by
McLOUGHLIN BROTHERS,
1893.





CON TEN ES,

WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.

THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.

THE THREE LITTLE PIGS. .

LITTLE BO-PEEP.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

THE THREE BEARS. .

FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.

JACK THE GIANT KILLER.

THE ROBINS CHRISTMAS EVE.

THE ENCHANTED FAWN.

THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.
HECTOR, THE DOG.

THE BLUE BIRD. ; : :
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.
BLUE BEARD.

PAGE









ond war "Fe j does.

SBD 0 Seep

A! the top of the earth, which they call the North Pole,
Is where Santa Claus lives, a right jolly old soul!

And the ice and the snow lie so Hee on the ground

The sun cannot melt them the whole summer round.

All wrapped up in fur from his head to his toes,
No feeling of coldness dear Santa Claus knows,
But Hove about with a heart full of j joy,

As happy as if he were only a boy.

His cheeks are like roses; his eyes are as bright
As stars that shine out overhead in the night,
And they twinkle as merrily too all the ale
And broad as a sunbeam is Santa Claus’ smile.

He never is idle, except
when asleep,

And even in dreams at his
labors will keep,

And all thro’ the day and
the night, it is true, Mm |

He is working and plan- ay
ning, dear children, |

for you.

5





WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
On top of his tower with
spy-glass in hand,

He goes every morning to
look o'er the land,
And though there are hills

all around, I suppose,
He sees, oh, much further
than any one knows





He peeps into houses whose doors are tight shut;
He looks through the palace, and likewise the hut;
He gazes on cities, and villages small,

And nothing, no, nothing is hidden at all.

He knows where the good children live beyond doubt,
He knows what the bad boys and girls are about,

And writes down their names on a page by themselves,
In books that he keeps on his library shelves.

For good little children, the gentle
and kind,

The prettiest presents and toys
are designed,

And when Christmas comes round,
as it does once a year,

Pilis cettain that Santa Claus” then

will appear



His work-shop, is oh! such a wonderful place,
With heaps of gay satins, and ribbons, and lace;
6



WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES,

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SANTA CLAUS IN HIS LIBRARY.







ay





WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
There are games for all seasons, the base-ball and kite,
And books which the children will seize with delight,
And the skates and the sleds, far too many to count,
And the bicycles ready tor wheelmen to mount.

There are farm-yards in plenty, with fences and trees
And cows, sheep, and oxen, all taking their ease,
And turkeys, and ducks, and fine chickens and hens,
And dear little piggies to put in their pens.

There are gay Noah’s Arks,
just as full as can be

Of animals, really a wonder
to see}

There are lions, and tigers,
and camels, and bears,

And two of each kind, for
they travel in pairs.



There are elephants stretching
their noses quite long;

And reindeer and elks with
their antlers so strong,

And queer kangaroos all the
others amid,

With their dear little babies in
pockets well hid. »



Is Santa Claus happy? There's no need to ask,
For he finds such enjoyment indeed in his task,
8



WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.



SANTA CLAUS IN HIS WORK-SHOP.

That he bubbles with laughter, and whistles and sings,
While making and planning the beautiful things.

The dear little Brownies, so nimble and fleet,

Will run on his errands with tireless feet,
9



WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
And carry big bundles and boxes, because
They want to be friendly to good Santa Claus.

He's a jolly good fellow, but
ever so shy,

And likes to do all his good
deeds on the sly,

So there's no use of spoiling
a nice winters nap

For youll not catch a glimpse

of the jolly old chap.



When Christmas Eve comes, into bed you must creep,
And late in the night, when you all are asleep,

He is certain to come; so your stockings prepare,
And hang them up close by the chimney with care.

The baby’s wee stocking you must not forget,

For Santa will have something nice for the pet,

And those who are thoughtful for others
will find

The good saint at Christmas time has
them in mind.



There is Tommy, who tended the baby with care,
A nice train of cars he shall have for his share,





WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

And how happy Eliza will be when she looks
For her presents, and finds such a budget of books,

For dear little Mary, a doll there will be;

And for Alice and Jennie a gay Christmas tree;
And wee little Georgie, the baby, will find,

A big stick of candy, just suiting his mind.



IN- THE STABLE.

11








WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

Oh, a jolly good sight is this funny old chap

When he’s dressed, in his bear-skin and fur-bordered cap,

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READY TO START.






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All ready to start on his
way through the cold,
In a sleigh covered over

with jewels and gold.

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While his deer from the mountains all harnessed with care,
Like race-horses prance through the clear frosty alr
12



WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
‘Tis fun just to watch them, and hear the bells ring,
And the stars seem to think it a comical thing.

For old Santa is bundled so
close to the chin

That there 1s not a chance =m
for the cold to get in,

His cheeks are so rosy, his
eyes how they flash!

No horses or driver eer cut
such a dash!



He cracks his long whip, and
he whistles a tune,

While he winks at the stars, and
he bows to the moon,
And over the tree-tops he drives

like the wind,
And leaves all the night-birds a
long way behind.



His steeds speed away on their
journey so fleet,

That they seem to have wings to
their swift flying feet,

For there's work to be done by
the cheery old man,

And his coursers will help him

as well as they can.
13





WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

His sleigh is with toys and with trinkets
well packed,

You never beheld one with treasures
so stacked ;

And though of good children he has
such a list

Not one is forgotten; not one will ¢
be missed. —



An army he gives to the boy
who is neat,

And never is rude in the house
or the street;

And a farm to the lad who
goes smiling to school,

Who knows all his lessons,
and minds every rule.



And if you would please him—dear Bertie and Jack—
And win a nice prize from the old fellow’s pack,

Be good little children, your parents obey,

And strive to be happy at work or at play.















































14



WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

At Christmas old Santa Claus
toils like a Turk,

For the cheery old fellow is
fond of his work,

With his queer-looking team
through the air he will go -

And alight on the house-tops.
all covered with snow.



Then down through the chimneys he'll dart without noise,
And fill up the stockings with candy and toys.

There'll be presents for Julia, and Nellie, and Jack,
And plenty more left in the old fellow’s pack.

And if Frank behaves well, and minds
what is said,

Quits teasing the cat, and
eoes early to bed ;

Piet aincdwetot mals

present a sled




or a gun,

A ready compan-
ion in frolic
and fun.

On Santa Claus hurries, and works with a will,
For many tall Christmas trees he has to fill,
And loads them with treasures from out his rich store,

Till they blossom as trees. never blossomed before.
15



WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
Though round as a dumpling, and ever so fat,
In running and climbing he’s spry as a cat,
And if the long ladder should happen
to break,
And he should fall down, what a
crash it would make!











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LOADING THE CHRISTMAS TREE.

16



WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.





Sa
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I told you his home was up North by the Pole,
In a palace of ice lives this worthy old soul,
And though out of doors it may furiously storm,
Indoors as we know, it is sunny and warm.

When Christmas is over old Santa
Claus goes

To his home in the North, and his
well earned repose,

And when he is
rested and feel-
ing tip-top,

The good-natured
workman goes
back to “his
shop.



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And there will he labor from morning till night,
To make others happy his aim and delight,

And if his good-will the dear children would earn,
They must strive to be happy and good in return.

He comes like an angel of light from above,
To do on the earth sweetest errands of love;
And our hearts and our homes to so fill with good cheer

That we cannot help knowing when Christmas is near.
17



WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
Then let us be glad, so that Christmas may be
A real Merry Christmas to you and to me:
And now that the story is ended welll give |
Three cheers for old Santa Claus! Long may he live!































































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SANTA CLAUS RESTS AFTER HIS LABORS.

18



CINDERELLA, OR:+THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

















CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS
| SLIPPER.



HERE once lived near a great city a very worthy
gentleman and his charming young wife. They had
married for love, and lived very happily together;
much more happily than some of their neighbors
whe were far more wealthy. And when a baby girl was
born, who was the light of their eyes and the joy of their

hearts, they felt as if their home was a little heaven upon
19





CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

earth; and, however cold and dark the world might be out
of doors, there was always plenty of warmth and sunshine
within.

But this state of things did not last long, for the young
mother fell ill of a fever, and died when her child was too
young to feel the loss of its kind parent.

The poor husband was at first almost distracted with grief,
and but for the presence of his dear little daughter would
have been very lonely indeed. Her pretty ways and soft
caresses had a soothing effect upon him, and he felt that he
had still something left to live for.

As time wore on he became quite cheerful once more, and
began to go into society, and to think of marrying again.
His daughter needed a mother’s care, and his house was so
large that it seemed very lonely with so few people in it.
Unhappily, the choice the gentleman made this time was not
a good one, for the lady he married was proud, haughty, and
deceitful, and had a most violent temper. She was determined
to have her own way, and her good-natured husband let her
do about as she pleased. It was easier for him to put up
with an evil than to find fault, and perhaps bring on a quarrel.

Unfortunately, the new wife was a widow, and she brought
with her into the house two great rude girls, who had been
wisely kept out of sight until their mother was married and
settled in her new home. They were at least ten years older
than the gentleman's daughter, whose beauty and grace made
them appear even more homely and awkward than they
really were.

This made them jealous of the poor child, and they did all

that they could to make her life miserable and unhappy.
20



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
They teased and tormented her from morning till night, and
when she bore patiently with them—for she was anxious to
win their love—they made fun of her, and were more dis-
agreeable than ever.

The poor child made no complaint to her father, for she
knew that it would only add to his unhappiness and discom-
fort, and if he interfered it would make matters worse. It
was not long before he fell violently ill; medicines could not
save him; and he died so suddenly that the shock almost
killed his poor little daughter, who knew not how she could
live without him.

After her dear father’s death, the haughty sisters were uglier
than ever to the poor little girl. They never invited her to
share in their games, or their sports, or to join them in their
walks or drives. Their mother encouraged them in this sort
of treatment, for she seemed to owe the poor child a grudge
for being so much better looking than her own daughters.
It did not occur to her or to them that more than half their
ill-looks was owing to their ugly tempers. It is no disgrace
to be homely; and pretty manners will hide all defects of face
or form, and enable us to win hosts of friends.

But the sisters, as they grew up, gave all their thoughts to
dress, and much of their time to dress-makers and milliners.
They and their mother were always dressed in the latest style,
and held their heads very high, and would not condescend to
speak to poor people.

The young girl, who should have been treated as a daugh-
ter and sister, was made to do all the dirty work of the house.
In this way they saved the wages of a servant, that they
might have more money to spend on clothes and finery. She

21



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
made the fires, carried the water, made the beds, swept and
dusted the rooms, cooked the meals, and was as busy as a bee
from morning till night.

Her one comfort was to sit in the chimney corner when
her tasks were done, and lose herself in a dream of bright
fancies as she gazed on the glowing logs. They were warm
and friendly, though every one else was cold and unkind.
As the kitchen was her parlor, she was careful to keep it tidy
and neat, and was so often brushing up the hearth, and sitting
by the cinders, that the sisters gave her the name of Czzder-
wench, or Cinderella, which is much prettier.

Cinderella was never invited to sit in the parlor, and had
no clothes given her but such as were fit to work in. She
waited upon her sisters kindly, helped them to dress, and
admired all their new clothes, and longed, just as any young
girl would, to see how fine a bird she would be in such fine
feathers. But the selfish creatures never even let her try ona
bonnet or cloak, for fear that Cinderella might put on airs,
and refuse to be a kitchen drudge any longer.

Sometimes, when she was doing her best to please them,
they would speak harshly to her, and be so spiteful and ugly,
that Cinderella would go back to her dish-washing with tears
in her eyes, and her heart as heavy asa big lump of lead.
Now some folks would have grown cross and hateful under
such treatment as the poor girl received; but as gold when
put in the fire comes out more bright and beautiful, so did
Cinderella shine with a light that made her face at times like
that of an angel. She was pure gold through and through.

One day the two sisters received an invitation to a grand
ball to be given in honor of a Prince, who, being the eldest

22,



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
son of the king, was expected, some day, to succeed his
father on the throne. 3
It was an honor to be invited to the palace, and the note
was eagerly read, and promptly answered by the proud sisters.
Go? Of course they would! But what should they wear?



i / }
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f

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HER FAIRY GODMOTHER APPEARS TO CINDERELLA.

This ball was the event of the day. Nothing else was
talked about. Dress-makers had more than they could do,
and the sisters were fortunate in having such a handy person
about as Cinderella. They could not deny that she had good

taste in dress, and hard at work was she kept for at least
23



CINDERELLA OR THE EIETEE' GLASS STIPPER:

three weeks preceding the ball. Meals were eaten in haste.
Dishes were washed in a rattling hurry.

Cinderella had to cut, fit, and sew, and listen to al! the talk
about the ball—who was to be there, and what So-and-So
was to wear—without daring to make a remark, or ask a
single question. |

When the day of the ball came, oh, then, what a hurry
and flurry there was! nobody had any time to think of any-
thing else. The streets of the city were hung with flags, and
bands of music played from morning till night. Cinderella
was up early, for she had a world of work to do, and there
were some finishing touches to be put on the dresses the
sisters were to wear.

Cinderella felt a pride in having them look nice, and saw
that not a hair-pin or a hook was out of place. She arranged
their hair in the latest style, and while at this work, one of
the sisters said to her with a mocking smile,

“Don’t you wish you were going to the ball, Cinderella?”

“Tndeed, indeed I do!” exclaimed the poor child, already
in a fever of excitement.

“A fine figure you would cut!” said the other, and homelier
sister. “Better stay among the pots and pans. ‘That's the
place for you!”

Cinderella bit her lip, but said nothing, though she had
hard work to choke back the sobs that would keep rising to
her throat.

The sisters drove to the ball in a fine carriage, with coach-
man and footmen in livery, and when they were gone the
house was so quiet, that had any one been listening they

might have heard the rats playing in the cellar. But Cinder-
24



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

ella was too busy with her own thoughts to think of rats.
Now she could give vent to her tears, and she sat on her
favorite seat by the hearth thinking what a lonely life she led,
trying to imagine what a ball was like, and wishing, wishing,
wishing hard that she was there in the midst of the light,
the flowers, and the music. ,
As this wish rose from her heart, Cinderella looked up
and saw a strange-looking old woman, who seemed to have
come into the room without opening either door or window.
Her feet rested on a cloud, and a bright light surrounded her.

In her hand she held a long wand.













CINDERELLA ORVLHE MTT PLEGG LASS SEIP PER:

Cinderella scarcely knew whether she was asleep or awake.
The old woman drew near her, and said in.a kindly voice,
“What is the matter, dear child? Do you want to go to
the: ball?

“Oh, indeed I do!” answered Cinderella, tears fillin: ng her
eyes.

“Well, be a good girl, and do as I tell you, and: I'll send
you off in fine style. I am your fairy godmother. Bring
me the largest pumpkin you can find.”

Cinderella was surprised, but the fairy godmother seemed
so much in earnest, that the poor girl dared not disobey, but
ran at once to do as she was told. As she carried the pump-
kin through the garden, she could not help smiling at the
thought at the fines figure she would cut sitting on top of
it, a speeding through ihe air. The fairy, however, touched
the pumpkin with her wand, and lo and behold! in its place
appeared a magnificent coach lined with satin and plush, and
ht for Her Rol Highness to ride 1 In.

“That 1s good as e: as it goes,” said the fairy; “but it won't
go far eathout horses. ee in the mouse- tae. my child, and
see if there is any thing in it.”

Cinderella ran Gace to do her bidding, and was delighted
to find eight plump mice caught in the trap... There they
were, poking their little noses fhroueh the bars and trying to
get out. And how they did eatieald Cinderella took care
that not one of them should escape, as she bore the trap in
triumph to her godmother.

hes fairy told her to raise the wire door that the mice
might come out, one by one. As they did so, a touch of the

wand transformed them into handsome horses, with arching
26



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITILE GLASS SLIPPER.









\ re gS FON q

CINDERELLA AT THE Se

necks, shining manes, and long tails, and splendid harness all
plated with gold. It was enough to make one's eyes water
just to look at them.

“Well, my child,” said the fairy, “this is a fine turn-out,
truly. But there are the finishing touches yet to be put on.
Go and see if there are any rats in the rat-trap |”

Cinderella ran with all haste, and soon returned bearing
the trap, which had in it two rats of the very best quality.
One was bigger than the other, and as he sprang out of the
trap, he was changed into a coachman, and took his place on

27



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
the box as orderly as you please. The other rat was trans-
formed into a footman, and both were in splendid livery
ornamented with gold.

But this was not all. “Bring me six lizards,” said the
fairy godmother. “You will find them behind the watering-
pot in the garden.”

The lizards were brought, and at once transformed into
pages, whose duty it was to run alongside or ahead of the
coach, and announce its arrival. ‘These immediately sprang
to their places, and stood as if awaiting further orders.

“There, Cinderella!” exclaimed her godmother, gazing
with pride upon the equipage. ‘Could anything be finer
than that? Jump in, and be off.”

Cinderella looked at her shabby clothes, contrasting them
with the splendor of the coach, and shook her head sadly.
The godmother understood at once, and said “Oh, I sec!
You think that dress is hardly fit to wear toa ball. Well, we
can easily remedy that. My dress-maker is wonderfully
skilful, and will fit you out in short order.”

Saying this, she touched Cinderella with her wand, and
immediately the old clothes fell off the young girl, and she
stood arrayed in a beautiful dress that shone like cloth of
gold. Jewels sparkled here and there—on her hands—at
her throat—and on her waist; and to crown all, the fairy
brought a pair of lovely glass slippers—that shone like dia-
monds—for Cinderella to put on. How dressed up one feels
in a pretty pair of shoes!

The godmother paused awhile to admire Cinderella in her
new attire, and then she said, “I have but one charge to give

you, my child. Leave the ball-room at twelve o'clock sharp!
28







CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER

If you remain a moment beyond that time, your coach will
become a pumpkin, your coachman, footman, and horses, rats
and mice, and your pages, lizards. Your beautiful dress, too,
will vanish away, and leave you in the shabby clothes of a
kitchen drudge.”

Cinderella promised to be punctual, for twelve o'clock
seemed to her a late hour. But then she had never been to
a ball!

There was a great stir at the palace when the splendid
carriage drove up, and great was the interest displayed when

























et oY a
SZ = a ¥ an ” 4 e Sees UES
——— te Se! Sees e 380") ae
| aT = :
Sore

THE FLIGHT FROM THE BALL.



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
Cinderella alighted. The Lord High Chamberlain himself
escorted her to the ball-room, and introduced her to the Prince,
who wmmiediately claimed her hand for the pect dance.
Cinderella was in a whirl of delight, the envy and admiration ©
of all the ladies and gentlemen. The hours flew all too fast.
At supper Cinderella was seated next her sisters, and even
conversed with them. The kind condescension of so distin-
guished a stranger was very flattering to them, and they were
on their best behavior.

When the hands of the clock pointed to a quarter of twelve,
Cinderella, mindful of her godmother’s injunction, arose and
hastened to her carriage. The Prince hurried after her,
expressed his regret that she must leave so soon, and begged
her to visit the palace the next evening, when the festivities
were to be continued. - He then returned to the ball-room,
but found the place very dull indeed, now that the Princess
was not among the guests.

Cinderella reached home in good time, and was commended
by her godmother, who promised to look after her interests
in the future. Soon a loud rap on the door announced the
arrival of the sisters, and Cinderella made haste to let them
in, rubbing her eyes and yawning as if just awakened out of
a sound sleep, 7

AAs soon as they entered the house they began to tell of the
beautiful Princess, of the excitement she had created, and the
preference she had shown for their society. When they said
the Princess was expected to be at the palace the next evening,
Cinderella begged that they would lend her one of their cast-
off dresses that she might go and see the wonderful beauty.

The sisters laughed her to scorn, and the next day were uglier |
30



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.



















N

x

. »~

oe |
alr
lee
Ve

TRYING ON THE SLIPPER.

to her than ever, finding fault when they had no occasion,
and striking her whenever they had a good chance.

“Tl teach you to have better manners, and to know your
place! “Phe idea of you daring to ask for one of my dresses,
or to think of going to a ball! Take that!—and that!” said
the younger sister, who had the most violent temper. And
Cinderella bore their hard treatment with a meekness that
was really remarkable.

The next evening the sisters went again to the ball, and
Cinderella made her appearance there shortly afterwards,

dressed even more splendidly than on the first night. The
31





CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
Prince had been watching for her, and never left her side the
whole evening. The attentions he paid her would have
turned the head of almost any young lady, but Cinderella |
received them all with a repose of manner that made the
Prince more charmed with her than ever.

But so happy was Cinderella that she forgot to look at the
clock, or to listen for its warning chime, and was greatly
surprised when the first stroke of twelve rang upon her ear.
She sprang up in haste, and ran from the ball-room as fast as
she could, never even waiting to courtesy to the guests, or to
say good night to the devoted Prince.

It was well she did so, for at the last stroke of twelve, the
splendid carriage, horses and all resumed their original forms,
her elegant clothes fell from her, and she found herself clad
once more in her old dingy working-dress. “The Prince started
in pursuit, but lost track of her in the midnight darkness. In
her flight, however, she dropped one of her glass slippers,
which the Prince found and held to his heart as if it was
a priceless treasure.

Cinderella reached home panting and breathless, in very
different style from that-in which she had left the first ball.

The Prince, in the meantime, had made inquiries of the
sentinels on guard, both inside and outside the palace, but
none of them could tell him which way the Princess went.
In fact, the only person they had seen leaving in haste was a
young girl poorly dressed, who looked as if she might be a
cinder-sweep.

Cinderella had not long to wait for the return of her sisters;
for the ball had closed early, as the Prince was so dull and

vexed. She again met them, rubbing her eyes, and yawning
382



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
wearily, but managed to ask them if they had enjoyed them-
selves, and if the beautiful Princess had again made her
appearance at the palace.
. Yes, they said, and more beautiful than ever, but at twelve
o'clock she suddenly started up and left the ball-room, where-





A PERFECT FIT.

33



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
upon the Prince seemed to lose all interest in everything, and
the guests soon departed.

The Prince remained in a listless state for some time.
Night and day he thought of the charming Princess, with
whom he was madly in love, and sought in many ways to
find some trace of her. He sent agents far and wide to
search for her, but nothing came of It.

At last a bright idea struck him. He got up a proclama-
tion which said:

Tue Kine’s soN WILL MARRY THE LADY WHO IS ABLE TO WEAR
THE GLASS SLIPPER WHICH WAS DROPPED AT THE LATE BALL.

Then he sent out a herald with a trumpet to proclaim this
wonderful news, and great was the excitement it caused.
Such a squeezing of feet as there was! and such suffering
from corns! The herald had orders to stop at every house,
and every lady tried to put on the slipper, but all in vain.
At last he came to the home of Cinderella's sisters, who
endeavored to put on the lovely glass slipper! But it was
too short for one, and too narrow for the other, and they
were obliged to give it up.

Cinderella, who had been watching them eagerly, stepped.
forward and asked if she might be permitted to try on the
slipper. The sisters exclaimed, “ What impudence!” but the
herald said his orders were to pass no lady by, and Cinder-
ella put down her scrubbing-brush and seated herself to try
on the slipper. There was no trouble getting it on; it fitted
her to a T. The sisters were speechless with amazement;
but imagine, if you can, their look of surprise when Cinder-
clla drew from her pocket the other glass slipper, which she

had carried about with her ever since that fateful night.
34



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

Now the sisters could see in Cinderella’s face some resem-
blance to the Princess who had taken so much notice of them
at the ball, and whose attentions they were so proud to receive.
How had it been brought about? As if in answer to their
thought the fairy godmother entered the room, and the blush-

a egne Ss
Hab






















MARRIAGE OF CINDERELLA.

ing maiden was transformed into the beautiful Princess. The
herald set off at once to bear the joyful tidings to his master
that the Princess was found. |

You may well believe that the sisters were sorry enough

35



CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
that they had treated Cinderella so harshly, and they sup-
posed that now the tables were turned she would despise
them, and be glad of a chance to pay them back for their
ill-usage. Mortified and ashamed, they went down on their
knees and asked her forgiveness, and Cinderella, bidding
them rise, begged them to think no more of the past, or to
fear her hatred. She assured them that she should never
forget that they were her sisters, and would do all she could
to add to their future happiness and prosperity.

A royal escort was sent to conduct Cinderella to the palace,
and great was the joy of the Prince at beholding her again.
She consented to become his wife, and the wedding was con-
ducted with regal pomp and splendor, and there was no end
to the congratulations; and as for the wedding-cake! well,
there was no skimping there, I can tell you.

The sisters were assigned the place of honor at the ban-
quet, and owing to Cinderella’s generosity were able to make
a very fine appearance. For among her wedding-gifts was
a large dowry from her godmother, and as Cinderella’s hap-
piness consisted in making others happy, she did not hoard
her wealth, but spent it among the poor, after settling a large
sum on each of her sisters.

Cinderella made hosts of friends, and she and the Prince
lived happily together for many years, and among all the
treasures of the royal palace there was nothing quite so pre-
cious as

CinpERELLA’S Grass Sripper.

36



THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

There was a Frog lived in a bog—
A Frog of high degree—

A stylish youth, and yet, forsooth,
A bachelor was he.








He had not wed,

Because, he said, bs es
He'd ne'er in all his life é ee oe

Seen in the bog : apes

pee ate He passed a aren
He cared to make his wife. Se

And there beside
the window

x j

ow spied

S\N A most attractive
mouse.





NTN
Wyk































































THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

i



——
SSO RSE
Pe KEME Oy

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nl Vee



Maa Ty E z
Cas IN oe .
A STARNS
: Sod ew a Soe
i HAW Willer ik ‘ y
ye en
we SNES 3

SI

CR
of WEES i Yh
zy Es

G AR dE »
SE SG
ANS op ‘

eS
SO





He raised his hat, He made a bow,
And gazing at Likewise a vow
Miss Mouse, in suit of gray, To marry her straightway.

38



THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

When he was drest a
In scarlet vest, Le ae
ff Ne
And coat of velvet sheen ee

’












With frills of lace,
And sword in place,
His like was nowhere
seen.

His smile was bland;
His style so grand,
He said with pride, ‘I









know A aN
Miss Mouse so fair, dey
Can find nowhere MA WZ)

VF" Sy
Ui S
RNs

So suitable a beau!

“Tfeshellagree
To live with me,
And be my faithful wife,
Oh, she shall dine
On dishes fine,
And lead an easy life.”

When he went by,
Miss Mouse, so shy,
Would hide her blush-
ing face ;
But truth to tell
Could see quite well
Through curtains of thin lace.

And from her nook! ah many a look
She gave, with heart a-stir ;
And oft did she confess that he
Was just the beau for her.

39



THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.







































He passed the door,
And on the floor
He knelt and kissed her hand ;
“Wilt marry me?”
He asked, while she
Her burning blushes fanned.

At last so blue poor froggy grew,
He went up to the house
And rang the bell, in haste to tell

His love for Mistress Mouse.
‘ 40



THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

as you may

”

She answered “‘ Yes,

pe. ouiless,
To Mister Frog’s deli
His arm he placed around her

ght;

waist,
And joy was at its height.









ghtway ;
The town was all agog;

The ‘wedding-day was set
Strat

?

ere sent

not few, w

And gifts,

unto
Miss Mouse and Mister Frog.

And never yet
Was banquet set,
In country or in town

J

more rich

Than that to which

fare

With

r

The weddin

o
Oo




guests sat









41



THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.


















zs iN 7 ‘
a AG eS
TGA
a We My
SAR We








And, after all,

And frogs and mice
There was the ball,

Were up in a trice,
for which the band was And cdanced.till their toes
hired ! were tired.



LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.









LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.



(NCE upon a time, there lived in a small cottage on the

~ edge of a deep wood, a forester and his wife, and their
dear little daughter. The little child was as lovely as a picture,
and a great pet with everybody. Her mother liked to see
her prettily dressed, and made her a red cloak with a hood
"to it, so that the neighbors gave her the name of Little Red
Riding Hood.

She was a merry little maid, and went about the house

singing and laughing the whole daylong. She made friends
43



LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
with birds, and with beasts, and was not afraid of anything,
not even the dark.

One day Red Riding Hood's mother said to her, “ My
child, you may go to your grandmother's with this pat of
butter and bottle of blackberry-wine, for we have not heard
from her in some days, and she may be in need of some-
thing. Do not stay too long, for I shall be anxious to hear
how she 1s.”

The old lady had not been well for some time, and some
days was so lame that she could not get out of bed, and had
to depend on the neighbors to come in and get her meals.

Red Riding Hood was delighted to do her mother's errand,
for she was fond of her grandmother, who always had funny
stories to tell, or something nice to give her when she went
there on a visit.

So her mother put on her scarlet cloak, gave her the well-
filled basket, kissed her good-by, and sent her off with many
loving messages for the poor sick grandmother.

Her way led through the lonesome woods, but Little Red
Riding Hood was not the least bit afraid, for she was used
to playing in them, and running races through them, never
minding whether she kept in the path or not. So she went
on as. happy as a lark, looking back now and then, as long as
her home was in sight, to see if her mother was still at the
door, and to throw her a kiss from the tips of her fingers.

For a long, long time after Red Riding Hood had gone so
far that she could not see the house, her mother stood in the
doorway with a smile on her face, every now and then catch-
ing a glimpse of the bright red cloak that shone through the

trees, and thinking how pretty her dear little daughter looked
44



LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
in it, with her soft golden curls flying out beyond the cun-
ning scarlet hood. ,

How glad she was that she had such a dear little girl; and
how lonesome the house was when she was not in it! Why
it seemed as if all the sunshine had gone into the woods, and
was wrapped in under the pretty red cloak, that the very
geese knew enough to admire.

The birds kept Little Red Riding Hood company, and sang
her their sweetest songs. The squirrels ran up and down the |
tall trees, and made her laugh at their funny antics. Now





RED RIDING HOOD IN BAD COMPANY.
45



LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
and then a rabbit would come across her path, and sometimes
Red Riding Hood would put down her basket, and give
chase to the bunnies, hoping she might catch one of the
pretty white pets. But they always managed to get out of
her way, for they could jump faster than she could run.

Butterflies darted here and there—some light yellow, some
with soft gray wings—and Red Riding Hood ran after these
until she was tired. Sometimes one would poise on a‘ green
leaf close at hand, and just as Red Riding Hood was about
to seize the pretty thing, away it would go deeper in the woods,
and seem to urge her to follow.

By-and-by she grew hungry, and sat down on a flat stone
‘to eat the nice lunch her mother had put up for her, and oh,
how good it did taste!

The birds came round her for their share, and it was fun
to see them crowd on each other and squabble over the
crumbs. How they did chatter and scold! And what greedy
things they were! You could almost hear them say, “ Let
that alone! That's mine! I was here first! O you pig!”
and when the crumbs were all gone they all cried, “More!
more! more!” or at least it sounded as if they did.

It was so lovely in the woods that Red Riding Hood
was in no hurry to leave them. Wild flowers were plentiful,
and she said, aloud, “Oh, I must stop and pick some for
grandmother, she is so fond of them!” |

So she went out of the path to gather the fox-gloves, the
wild honey-suckles, and the dark wood violets that were
growing all around; and with these and some sweet ferns
and long grasses she made a very pretty nosegay.

But dear me! when she turned to go back to the path
46



LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
she could not find it, and for a moment she was scared,
for she thought she was lost in the woods.
~The birds knew of her plight, and as she had been good
to them, they would be good to her; so two of them flew
down, and calling to Red Riding Hood in their pretty,

coaxing way, led her out of the tangle of brush-wood into



yl aye

Wi,

they)





LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
the smooth path, and to the very place where she had left
her basket.

While she sat resting for a few moments, a wolf came up
and spoke to her; which did not seem at all strange to Little
Red Riding Hood, as wolves and fairies were quite common
in those a

“ Good-day,” said the wolf. “Where are you going all

alone by yourself, my pretty miss?”

“I am going to my grandmother's,” said Little Red Riding
Hood, “to Bite her some fresh butter and nice blackberry.
wine, for she is quite sick.”

“ She ought : be proud of such a lovely grand-daughter,”
said the wolr “T don't know when I fave met any one
quite so handsome.”

Flattered by these coin pliiente Red -Riding Hood let
the wolf walk by her side, although the birds Rear warning
her that he was a wicked rogue, and she'd better get rid
of him.

She had an idea that poor company was better than none,
which was a mistaken notion, for it is much better to be alone
than in bad company, as Little Red Riding Hood found out,
before a great while had passed.

. Where does grandma live?” asked the wolf in as sweet a
voice as he could command.

“Just outside the woods. You can see her cottage through
the trees.” 7

“Ah, yes;” said the wolf “I think I'll call on the dear
old lady. She will certainly be glad to see me when she
learns how skillful Iam in curing diseases. Just for the fun of
the thing, suppose you take the path to the left, while I follow

48



LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
this one to the right, and we will have a little race to see
which shall get to the cottage first.”

Now the crafty wolf knew that he was sure to win this
race, for he had chosen the shortest way, and, besides that,
he intended as soon as he was out of the little girl's sight
to go at a speed which she could not attempt to keep up
with. But Red Riding Hood suspected nothing. She was
so young that she did not know that though wolves might
appear to be as mild as sheep, they were still wolves at heart,
ready to bite and rend whatever came in their way. She was




























y PI jal” A y
a

mw SARS
ve EB ss
{Fee YS




é

3

\
es \
ASR

49 A RACE TO THE COTTAGE.



LITTLE RED RIPING HOOP.

kind and gentle herself, and thought everybody was the same.
She had yet to learn that often os who pretend to be our
best friends, turn out to be our worst enemies. They are fair
to our face, and false behind our back. ‘They deceive us by
their sweet ways, and do their best to put us off our guard.

The wolf took a short cut out of the woods, and soon
came to the cottage of Red Riding Hood's grandmother. A
bird on a spray outside fairly screeched to give warning to
the old lady within, but if she heard it ae did not coe

what if meant.

The wolf rapped gently at the door, and the old lady, who
was in bed, roused herself and said, “Is that you, darling?
Pull the string and the latch will fly up.”

The wolf pulled the string, and stood still a moment ere
he opened the door. He thought he heard footsteps near,
for hunters now and then went through the woods in search
of game, but it was only the bird on the spray, who made a
frantic effort to. scare off the wicked intruder.

But the wolf knew there was no time to waste, so he slip-
ped through the door of the cottage, which soon flew back
on its hinges.

“Tam ever so glad you've come, darling,” said the grand-
mother, imagining that her visitor was Little Red Riding
Hood. “I’m rather more poorly than usual, dear, and it
pains me to turn my head.”

“T’m so sorry,” said the wolf, mimicking the voice of the
little grand-daughter. ‘“ Mother's sent you something nice
in a basket.”

“Well, put it on a chair, dear, and take off your cloak;

and then come and give me a kiss.”
59



TELE EAR DERIDING LOO:





























RED RIDING HOOD ARRIVES AT THE COTTAGE.

“That I'll do at once!” said the wolf as he sprang on
the bed, and glared in the face of the grandmother, who
tried to beat him off with -her crutch. But she had not
strength to battle with such a foe, and the hungry wolf,
with glaring red cyes, ate up Red Riding Hood's poor dear
erandmother, like the crucl monster that he was!

Oh, the blood-thirsty, horrible wretch!

It makes one shudder to think of the terrible deed! But
this was not all! The taste of blood had made him thirst

for more; so he put on the old lady's nightcap and gown,

and snuggled himself down under the bed-clothes, to wait

for Red Riding Hood to appear.

51



LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.

What a slow-poke she was! It seemed as if she never
would come! and the longer the wolf waited, the crosser he
got! Several times he had cocked up his head, thinking he
heard her at the door, and still she did not come. He was
just beginning to think she never would find her way out of
the woods, when he heard a low rap at the door. The little
girl rapped softly, for she thought that grandma might be
asleep, and she didn’t wish to disturb her, in that case, until
she awoke.

The wolf waited awhile, then called out as the old lady had
done: “Is that you, darling? Pull the string, and the latch
will fly up.” His voice was rather harsh, but not unlike the
grandmother's when she had a bad cold. :

So Red Riding Hood pulled the string, and went into the
house, set her basket on a table, and went up to the bed-side.
She was scared at the change that had come over her poor
sick grandmother. What could ail her to make her look like
this?) She must have some terrible disease!

The child stared and stared, and her breath came quick
and short.

“Why, Grannie,’ she said, as soon as she could speak,
“what big eyes you've got!”

“The better to see with, my child,” said the wolf, imitating
the grandmother's voice as much as possible.

“And oh, Grannte,” exclaimed the child, “what a great
long nose youve got!”

“The better to smell with, my child.”

“ But, Grannie, what great big ears you've got!”

“The better to hear with, my child.” 3

Red Riding Hood began to grow more scared than she

52



LITILE RED RIDING HOOD.






Ll ales

—

fpr




Sev here ce
T ' Trafmaln es met

















RED RIDING HOOD IS ALARMED.

had ever been in all her life, and her voice trembled when

sheesatde =

“Oh, Grannie, what great—big—teeth

“The better to eat you up!” said the wolf, in his own
natural voice ; and he was just about putting his long, sharp
yellow fangs in the child's soft white flesh, when the door was
flung open, and a number of men armed with axes rushed in
and made him let go his hold, and Little Red Riding Hood
fainted in her father's arms.

He was on his way home from work with some other

- 58

) x !”
you ve—got.





LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
foresters, and was just in time to save his dear little daughter
from being eaten up by the wicked wolf that had devoured
her grandmother.

With one or two strokes of the axe, the wolf's head was
cut off so that he could do no more harm in the world, and
his body was tied to a pole and carried home in triumph by
the foresters.

Friends from far and near came to see Little Red Riding
Hood, and to congratulate her and her parents. She had to
tell, over and over again, just ey she met the wolf, how

YL:



















DEATH OF THE WOLF.



LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.





HOME IN TRIUMPH.

he looked, and what he said, until it seemed as if she never
got out of the woods at all, not even in her dreams.

When children were told the story it was always with
this word of warning: When you are sent on an errand, go
right along, and do it as quickly as you can. Do not stop
to play on the road, or to make friends with strangers, who
may turn out to be wolves in sheep's clothing.

And they promised to remember, and shuddered when-
ever they thought what might have been the fate of dear

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.

55



THE THREE LTT LEESKLT LENS,






‘THREE little kittens
Lost their mittens,
And they began to cry,
“Oh, mammy dear, we sadly fear
Our mittens we have lost!”

“What! lost your mittens,
You naughty kittens,
Then you shall have no pie!”
Miew, miew, miew, miew,



Miew, miew, miew, miew.

The three little kittens, without their mittens,
Began to feel quite blue.

“Oh! mammy dear, Oh! mammy dear, .

Pray tell us what to do!”

56



THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.



















“Go find your mittens, you silly kittens,
And be quick about it too!”
Miew, miew, miew, miew,

Miew, miew, miew, miew.
57



THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.



The three little kittens

Then sought their mittens
Upon the table high;

In doors and out

They scampered about,
For they were very spry;

Now high, now low,

The three in a row,
And oh! how they made

things fly!

Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.

The three little kittens
Found their mittens,
And they began to cry,
“Oh! mammy dear,
See here, see here,

Our mittens we have found!”

68











i
y » i

ha y
yy
Vy B

“What! found your mittens,
You darling kittens,
Then you shall have some pie.”
Purr, purr, purr, purr,
Purr, purr, purr, purr.

The three little kittens
Put on their mittens,
And soon ate up the pie.
“Oh! mammy dear,

We sadly fear

Our mittens we have soiled.”



THE THREE LITILE KITTENS.
“What! soiled your mittens, you naughty kittens!”
Then they began to sigh,
“ Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.’

Spy neta ee
AWS YE

NOES ts ee
ASAT)
—













a PRS





















1 " ie
«

the
what, 7
'

‘ TASS as
ht, WA oe
As “rest

\

Nite

\I i




seed

ma Y
LO
NG mT nie yi







sii ala Ne
A UMMA, MeN
Anil IN! NN \ gue SS Gi ey
me oe MN FR




i
AS

THE MITTENS FOUND.



THE THREE LITTLESKITIENS,

4 aN
Dn
Sec S* Toe i <
. MN ye 8 s Z a
Be? 3 XY RE are Ae. a
cr AR MS . ay, Oe v=
. Ces 725 4 Nt we —lty >
= is oS 4 why, te = aa cy
' * u Re Y “a ae pt eee
PF 2ysh 4
\ oS

















Wi
hat

ay ite



















eS “
} rey, et,
K
ceili ry hte
oom ae



\ we Han Meee Wy ili I

ee, eee
Hl : op), My ite we ee,
Sage, ES
dani aN ees ‘
ri ) : oe a
MD y+ A
pie 2

,

. V6

Ay Wy ges ( f

n \\ 4 Wh tn WeGis ,
WW ip Wy a! Nogeh

(Ws.
YY iM iS
; yg’ wih we My,
: ¥ a : v ue VSS ia
’ lene . i,
a 7 ie Te Sb vty) ly Ake tae
AO ak Ripa ites see aE yw eae
Leth Monte a \ is \! ty hy a
z VY epay

The three little kittens washed their mittens,
And hung them up to dry.
“Oh, mammy dear, look here, look here,

Our mittens we have washed.”
60



THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS. :
_.., “What! washed your mittens,
You good little kittens!
But I smell a rat close by!
Hush! hush!” Miew, miew,

Miew, miew, miew, miew.

These kittens so gay
Were invited one day
Tofeast by arunning stream,
Where they had as muchmeat
As they wanted to eat,
And plenty of nice ice-cream,
And each went to sleep
Curled up in a heap,
And had a most lovely dream.
Purr, purr, purr, purr,
Purr, purr, purr, purr.



One night in the Fall they went to a ball,
And danced to a lively tune,
With a leap and a bound and a merry-go-round,
And the sound of a big bassoon ;
And with holes in their mittens, those careless kittens
Came home by the light of the moon.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.

These kittens—all three—were ime to tea
At Madame Angora’s house,
Who wore her best silk, and served them with milk

And catnip on which to carouse ;
61



THE THREE LITILE KITTENS.









And polite as you please they were taking their ease,
When they chanced to catch sight of a mouse.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.

62



THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.
The kittens gave chase—ran all over the place,
And up to the roof at a bound,

Their noses stuck in every basket and bin,

Till they were as black as the ground;
And the mousie so small
Had the best of it all,

For it hid where it couldn't be found.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.











These kittens ‘twas said

Were soon to be wed,

The cards had been out
some days,

And cat-birds no doubt
Spread the news about
As they flew o’er the
great highways;
And cats, one and all,
The great and the small,
Were loud in the kittens’ praise.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,

Miew, miew, miew, miew.
638



THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.

At last came the day, and in splendid array,
The guests soon began to arrive;
The aunts and the cousins by sixes and dozens,
All buzzing like bees in a hive;
And among them Sir Rouser, a famous old mouser,
And the handsomest maltese alive.
Purr, purr, purr, purr,
Purr, purr, purr, purr.



Then, after the marriage, each groom called his carriage,
And oh, they rode off in fine style;
The brides beaming brightly, and bowing politely,
To friends every once in a while;
Who kept up a squalling, and great caterwauling,
That might have been heard for a mile.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,

Miew, miew, miew, miew.
64



THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.



The guests kept on dancing, now leaping and prancing ;

The band still continued to play;
And “ Puss-in-the-corner,” and “ Little Jack Horner,’

Were games very much in their way ;

65



| THE THREE LITTLE RITTENS.
With singing and
screeching,
And laughter far-
reaching,
They had a good
time, I daresay.
Miew, miew, miew,
miew,
Miew, miew, miew,
miew.

Till suddenly ——
Hark!
There came a fierce
bark,
That made the cats
tremble with
fright;
Put an end to their fun, and made them all run,
Fear lending great speed to their flight,
And bow-wows, and spit-spits, from the puppies and kits,
Were heard all the rest of the night. |
Bow-wow, miaow, bow-wow, miaow,
Bow-wow, miaow, bow-wow.



The three pretty brides, and their husbands besides,
Took rooms in a very nice flat ;
Not a rat nor a mouse was eer seen in the house,

Nor any one heard to cry Scat!
66



OTHE PURER LIT IEE RITTENS.
So they lived and looked pleased—they were petted
_ not teased —
Now what do you think of that?
Purr, purr, purr, purr,
Pui pur. purl purr:













yy ee

| Stonwnee (2
|

: ie

Py Ute
id tiilie
yi oa

| I























67



THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.

The three little kittens who lost their mittens,
Those mittens had quite out-grown
Ere the year was out, and I very much doubt
That the mother her kittens had known; |
And each of the three—'tis true as can be !—
Had dear little kits of her own !
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.

The motherly kittens began to knit mittens,
To put on the dear little paws ;
And the kittens were taught to do as they ought,
And trained how to use their sharp claws,
And how to catch mice and rats in a trice,
And to keep out of traps with great jaws.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew miew, miew, miew.

And as they grew old I’ve no doubt they told
This story—as now have I—
Of the three little kittens who lost their mittens,
And couldn't have any pie,
Till the mittens were found, and [ll be bound
They set up a mournful cry
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.



68



THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.











Ae STORY of

2 LLL FD

fit THREE LITTLE PIGS.










(} NCE upon a time there was an old pig
with three little pigs, and as she had not
enough to keep them, she sent them out to
| seck their fortunes.

The first that went off met a man with a bun-
dle of straw, and said to him, “ Please, man, give me that
straw to build me a house;” which the man did, and the
little pig built a house with it. Presently a wolf came along
and knocked at the door, and said,— |

Slime bic soirtce ie. bet Mr-Come, Int:

‘To which the pig answered.—
69 ‘ ;



THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.



py Lo
4 a

2

“PLEASE, MAN, GIVE ME THAT STRAW.”

“No, No, sy THe Harr on my Curwny-Curn-Cutn !”
This made the wolf angry, and he said,—

“Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!”
So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew the house 1n,

and ate up the little pig.

70



7 THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.

The second little pig met a man chopping wood, and said,
“Please, man, give mé some of that wood to build me a
house ;” which the man did, and the pig built his house with it.

Then along came the wolf, and said,—

Vere ie biriie Lice Na Comin

“No, No, py THE Harr on my Cainny-Cuin-Cuin !”

“Then I'll huff, and Vil puff, and I'll blow your house in!”

So he huffed, and he puffed, and
he puffed and he huffed, and at last
he blew the house down, and then ate BE
up the little pig.

The third little pig met a man with
a load of bricks, and said, “ Please,
man, give me those bricks to build a
house with ;” so the man gave him the
bricks, and he built his house with
them. [Then the wolf came, as ;
he had done to the other little A.













pigs, and said,—



THE THREE LITTLE PGS.

e



THE SECOND LITTLE PIG AND THE WOOQD-CHOPPER.

“Lortrte Pic, Lirrir Pic, Ler Me Come In!”

“No, No, sy THE Harr on my Cyinny-Cutn-Cutn !”
“Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and T'll blow your house in.”
Well, he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and he



THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.

huffed, and he huffed and he puffed; but he could not get
the house down. When he found that he could not, with all
his huffing and puffing, blow the house down, he Sale alana
pig, I know where there 1s a nice field of turnips.”
“Where?” said the little pig.
“Oh, in Mr. Smith's Home-field, and if you will be ready

SVS



1A a TS SES Ea A ag
pk ae
WLS

noe



A Nae,
when G
pu me

“ure

eS am
wid 2m

“ PLEASE, MAN, GIVE ME THOSE BRICKS.”

73



THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.
to-morrow morning I will call for you, and we will go to.
gether, and get some for dinner.”
“Very well,” said the pig, “I will be ready. What time
do you mean to go?”

‘Oh, at six o'clock.”

Well, the little pig got up at
five, and got the turnips before
the wolf came—which he did
about six—and said, “ Little pig
are you ready?” The little pig
said, “ Ready? I have been, and
come back again, and got a nice
pottful for dinner.”

The wolf felt very angry at
this, but thought that he would
be up to the little pig some how
or other, so he
said, “ Little pig,

I know where








there is a nice
pear-trec,”
“Where 2”
sad the pig.
“Down at
, GF f Merry-garden,”
| replied the wolf,
“and if you will
not deceive me,
I will come for
are | you at five



THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.
oclock to-morrow, and we will go together and get some
pears.” |
Well, the little pig bustled up the next morning at four
oclock, and went off for the pears, hoping to get back before
the wolf came. But he had further to go, and had to climb
the tree, so that just.as he was getting down from it he saw




gS ily
nt

ss { ey \nty ‘i
ae esi tif ie, Wt,
\ Was pe Xs ‘ Paar ies
Mi, Wy Ne Cp
% wo Bey ee aN 50)
Vie su) 1
Sth i, > ue id;
j he

3 EES ee oN EEN Pa
LP thyy ay “

THE LITTLE PIG THROWS A PEAR TO THE WOLF,





THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.
the wolf coming, which, as you may suppose, frightened him
very much. When the wolf came up he said, “ What! are
you here before me? are they nice pears?” “ Yes, very,” said
the little pig. “I will throw you down one;” and he threw it
so far that while the wolf was going to
pick it up, the little pig jumped down

and ran home.



ae Qe The next day the wolf came again,
: lee s and said to the little pig, “ Little pig,
as there is a fair at Shanklin this after-
noon; will you go?”
“Oh yes,” said the pig, “I will be glad to go; what time
will you be ready ?”
76

Ly



THE THREE LITTLE PiGs.



i : ; uy f i 1
| wnt COTE a a



THE LITTLE PIG AT THE FAIR.

«“ At three,” said the wolf.

So the little pig went off before the time, as usual, and got
to the fair, and bought a butter-churn, which he was going
home with when he saw the wolf coming.

v7



THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.
Then he could not tell what to do. So he got into the
churn to hide, and by so doing turned it over, and it rolled:
down the hill with the pig in it, which frightened the wolf
so much that he ran home without going to the fair.
He went to the little pig’s house, and: told him how
frightened he had been by a great round thing which came
down the hill past him.



Then the little pig said, “Ha!
I frightened you then. I had been to the fair and bought a
butter-churn, and when I saw you I got into it and rolled
down the hill.” .

Then the wolf was very angry indeed, and declared he
would eat up the little pig, and that he would get down the
chimney after him.

When the little pig saw what he was about, he hung on
78



THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.







TTHE WOLF STARTS DOWN THE CHIMNEY,

the pot full of water, and made up a blazing fire, and just as
the wolf was coming down, took off the cover, and in fell the
wolf! So the little pig put on the cover again in an instant,
boiled up the wolf and ate him for supper, and lived happy
ever afterwards. i

79



LITTLE BO-PEEP.

LITILE BO-PEEP.



[LITTLE Bo-Peep has lost
her sheep,
And can’t tell where to
find them,
Let them alone
and they'll
come home,
And bring their
tails behind

them.

’

Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,
And dreamt she heard oo

them bleating;





LITTLE BO-PEEP.



fling! i Bi ghia ae GH

Uns
ral
we)
oe
ae Say Rese
YY Az
CR > cf

VY f Lee l (f ce os
4 i fo i M% x a v Le “Ml c
OW [its Wh < wn AY & Mea W Uli a ihe

(
Y il it AN ~~ 4 wih
X NaN ‘ f AEN bi, ~S oo Via V/ ) : ny 4
= Lid Ne a yen ayy
wee \ , Jyytoo . Qe wf
g LEO OLE RO SS ae

But when she awoke, she found it a joke,
For still they all were fleeting,

81





LITTLE BO-PEL?P.

HER fe ify SS

HN Ms

‘a i rt
y iM; h



(ih S mes \ SS ee : al eae
( i) jy yh ,

4( (Nt a US, /

‘* THEN UP SHE TOOK HER LITTLE CROOK.”
82



LITTLE BO-PEEP.

he took

Then up s

ook,

le er

Her litt
Determined for

to find them:

Be

eft their tails

She found them indeed
l
hind them.

But it made her heart

d

For they
be



Z
co
ci
Sie
ot
me)
Eo
Ones
co
oOo v
ae
oO
Sea
Wn
——
eG



LITTLE BO-PEEP.

There she espied their tails, side by side,
All hung on a tree to dry,

She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye,
And over the hillocks did race—O !

And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should
To stitch each tail in its place—O!











of



Bla ae G4
OK P23 Td,
= a a4
Oo 7S eo Ah *
Ase y.
b &
or




‘bppt

Y,

aed Me
ON AA NGI
Si CHIT. ~





'

AY s
ads
{ \ We t

bhi. At pi
fv Hl



\ ‘yy bit AN UMA a\:
STAHL ar
ASS
SA va y iS "
ay

84



BREAULIV AND THE BEAST.



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.



[N a large city of the East, there once lived a very rich

merchant. He had a splendid home, and large ware-
houses full of costly goods; and a hundred guests bowed
themselves before him, and sat down at his table every day.
As his wealth increased, so did the number of his friends;
and at last it was difficult to tell which was the greater,— the

85



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
wealth of the merchant, or the amount of praise and flattery
bestowed upon him.

The merchant's family consisted of three sons and three
daughters. The sons were tall, well-grown, young men, and
the daughters were all handsome, dark-eyed ladies. But, as
frequently happens, the chief gifts of loveliness and grace
had been bestowed upon the youngest of them all; and so
bright and happy was her face, and so winning were all her
ways, that, as a child she fad been called the ~ little
Beauty,” and the name still remained when she had become
a tall grown-up girl. |

Happy indeed was it for the merchant that he loved his
sons and daughters better than his wealth; for. he little
thought, as he sat at the head of his plentiful table, with his
smiling guests around him, that a terrible misfortune had
happened, and that he was, in fact, no better than a ruined
man. One of his largest ships, with a very costly cargo, was
miserably wrecked on the high seas, and only two. of the
sailors were saved, after clinging for days to the fragment of
a mast. Another equally valuable vessel was taken by pirates,
and a third fell into the hands of the enemy’s fleet. By land
he was equally unfortunate ; his largest warehouse was burnt,
and the Bedouins attacked and plundered a caravan convey-
ing his goods across the desert. So, within a few months, he
sank from the height of wealth and honor to the depths of
poverty and want. :

Very different from the splendid mansion they had inhab-
ited in the days of their prosperity, was the quiet country
house to which the merchant and his family removed when

the misfortunes he had met with by sea and land left him a
86



BEAUTY AND THR BEAST. ,

ruined and broken man. A\ll the accessories of wealth had
disappeared. There were no extensive pleasure grounds, no
fountains, groves of trees, or ornamental waters. The once
wealthy merchant, whose capital had furnished the means of
employing hundreds of servants, was now reduced to labor
with his sons in the cultivation of their little farm, for on its
produce they mainly depended for their means of subsistence.
Hard as their lot appeared, the three sons manfully met the
reverses of fortune which had befallen them, and both by
word and deed they did all in their power to reconcile all the
members of the family to their sudden change of position.

‘But with the daughters it was far different; and here was
seen the benefit and advantage derived from habits of indus-
try. The two elder sisters were always fretting about their
losses, and their discontent rendered every privation doubly
hard for themselves, and embittered the lot of the merchant
and his sons. They could not enjoy the plain fare the others
ate with so much relish. They rose late, and spent the day
in bewailing their hard lot; and it is a remarkable thing how
much people find to bemoan when once they set themselves
to complain. The two sisters would sit down, one with her
head in the other's lap, crying and sobbing; while Beauty,
the younger sister, would be fully employed spinning; and
always had a smile for her father when he came home wea-
ried from his work. You may depend upon it there is noth- °
ing like industry. i

Labor is the proper lot of man; and whether it be work
in the fields, or work in the counting-house, or in the study,
it will always bring pleasure to the workman, if it be but

well and zealously done.
37



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. :

The merchant and his sons worked hard, morning, noon,
and night; and they were so hungry every day when they came
home to dinner, that they ate their frugal meal with keen appe-
tites; and so tired were they when they came from labor at
night, that they slept soundly and peacefully till morning;
whereas, during the time of the merchant's prosperity, he
had often been kept awake at night by anxious thoughts for
the safety of his ships, his warehouses, and his stores of gold
and silver. This thought often entered the merchant's mind,
and a feeling of gratitude for the comforts he stil] possessed
brought him as near contentment as possible.

Humble as their present residence certainly was, a person
unacquainted with their history would never have imagined
that the contented-looking toilers on the small farm were
persons who had held a high position in society. But the
merchant was a man who had pursued a strictly honest and
honorable course in all his dealings; no stain had been cast
upon his character by his loss of fortune, and having nothing
upon his mind connected with the past to awaken regret or
remorse, he regarded his present position as one still capable
of affording happiness.

But a change came upon their quiet life. One day a
messenger came to the merchant's gate with a most import-
ant letter. It contained great news. A ship, long given up
as wrecked and lost, had safely anchored in a distant port;
and the merchant was desired to go and take possession
without losing a day.

You may fancy what a stir this made in the little house-
hold. The merchant's sons looked hopeful, and the two

sisters were radiant with smiles. They quite gave up their
88 :



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
cheerful practice of crying in each other's arms, and were full
of plans and projects for the future. Beauty was glad too:
but she smiled because she loved to see her father look happy.
The merchant was happy and pleased at the prospect of re-
gaining a portion of his wealth for his children’s sake; and





= ' a
= at
wy + age
WE LS ae D
Posy pi

Sa oo)
ai

oe



BEAUTY’S MODEST REQUEST.

he had a hundred projects for giving his daughters pleasure
by the pretty presents he should bring them on his return.
Before he started, he asked each of them in turn what
present he should bring her home with him when he had
received the money for his cargo. I am sorry to say that

8)



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

the two sisters had quite counted on being asked this ques-
tion, and were ready with a long list of the things they
wanted, chiefly fine dresses and jewels; and their requests
somewhat astonished the merchant, who promised, however,
that they should have what they wanted. Beauty had not
been thinking about herself all this while, and did not know
what to reply, as she had no wish for anything in particular;
so, in order not to disappoint her father’s kind intention, she
begged him to bring her a full-blown rose, as there were none
in their garden. ‘The elder sisters laughed in secret over
what they called her stupid choice; but they did not dare
to show their spite openly for fear of their brothers. So the
merchant rode off on a camel he had borrowed from a friend,
and the daughters stood at the door waving their handker-
chiefs and crying “good bye!” But it was Beauty who got
the last kiss. 7

The merchant's journey was not so prosperous as he had
hoped. The cargo, indeed, had been saved, and the ship was
safe in port; but a law suit had been commenced, and there
was so much to pay that the merchant set out for home not
much richer than he had left it. And it was on his return
that he met with the following tremendous adventure.

He was riding through a wood. Night had fallen, and
he had lost his way, though he fancied he could not be very
far from home. His weary camel still carried him gallantly
on, and he looked anxiously round for any building where he
could find shelter until the next morning; for the rain was
beating down upon him, the wolves howled in the dreary
darkness around, and the very trees seemed to take horrible

spectral forms, and make threatening gestures at him.
90



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

NY,




THE TREES TAKE FRIGHTFUL SHAPES.

All at once he saw a light gleaming through the trees.
It proved to be a lamp, hung at the entrance gate to what
seemed to be a park surrounding a palace. ‘“ WeELcomr,
wEARY TRavetrr!” was written up in Eastern characters
over the gate. The merchant rode through the gate, and
following the stately avenue which it opened upon, he found
his way to a large stable, with every convenience for fifty
animals, but quite empty. The merchant put up his camel,
and fed him; and then went to find some one in the palace

which he saw near at hand.
9]



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.













THE MERCHANT APPROACHES THE PALACE.

The doors were wide open, and he entered the vestibule,
which was very large, and had a basin with a fountain in the
middle; here he sat and washed his feet. “Then he went
through many large apartments, all splendidly furnished.
There was no one in them; not even a servant to take care
of the house. But there was a very handsome supper laid
out in one of the rooms; and the merchant sat down, and
after waiting for some time for the host to appear, made a
hearty meal, all alone by himself, and drank his own health
afterward.



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

In the upper floor were several bed-rooms, with large beds
and handsome wardrobes. In one of these beds the mer-
chant went fast asleep, and never woke till half-past six the
next morning. He felt quite refreshed after his night's rest,
and walked out in the grounds about the palace, in hopes of
meeting the owner. Everything here was in first rate order.
The flower beds were full of beautiful plants, and the walks
clean and hard, and the grass plats soft and smooth as a
velvet carpet. In one bed stood a splendid rose tree in full
bloom. This set the merchant thinking of his daughter
Beauty's wish for a rose: and he selected a very fine one and
plucked it. But the moment after he had done so, he heard
a tremendous roar, and a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder.
He turned, and saw a monster with the body of a man and a
beasts head and claws. The creature stood in a threatening
attitude over him and cried: “ Ungrateful man !—how dare
you repay my kindness by stealing the only thing I prize,
my beautiful roses ?—-Now you shall die!’ The merchant, in
utter terror, begged hard for forgiveness, calling the Beast
“my lord,” and declaring that he meant no harm, but had
only plucked the rose for his youngest daughter, whom he
loved, and who had wished for one.

“Twill spare your life on one condition,” replied the Beast.
“You must go home, and bring your daughter here in your
stead. If she refuses to come, you must promise faithfully
to be back yourself within three months; and don't call me
‘my lord’ for I hate flattery, and I am not a lord but a
Beast! (which was true enough). So promise, or die! and
choose quickly !”

The merchant with a heavy heart, consented to the Beast’s

93



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
conditions, and turned sorrowfully away. “Go to the room
you slept in,’ cried the Beast after him, “you may fill a chest
you will find there with anything you like, and carry it away
with you.” :

The merchant accordingly filled the chest with gold pieces,
and sorrowfully departed. When he reached his own house,







« THE BEAST SURPRISES THE MERCHANT.

his daughters came crowding round to welcome him, and
were struck with the settled melancholy in his face. In
silence he gave the elder sisters the presents he had brought
for them, and then sat down disconsolately on the ground.

The two sisters sat examining their presents, but Beauty
O4



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
went to her father, and threw her arms around his neck to
comfort him. “Ah my dear Beauty, here is your rose,” said
the merchant, “but you little know the price your poor father
has promised to pay for it.” And he told her everything
just as it had occurred.

The ‘elder sisters came up to listen; and of course began
to throw all the blame on poor Boe, colt the atiected
little thing had only asked for presents like ours,” they de-

clared, “ thee would have been no such trouble as this, and
our father would not be in danger of his life.”

“He is not in danger now,” answered Beauty quietly, “for
I will go to the Beast and bear the punishment of death in
his stead.” The brothers offered to go, and begged hard:
but the merchant knew that the Bee would not Be put off
and that he would be satished with no one but Beauty, or
one of her sisters. He had also secret hopes that her life
would be spared; for the Beast’s generosity had made him
think that, after all, the monster would not like to sacrifice
the life of a young and innocent creature.

I regret to say that the sisters secretly exulted at Beauty’s
apparently sad fate; but the brothers were really and truly
grieved, and kissed their sister heartily before she set out with
her father on their sorrowful journey.

The domain around the Beast’s palace was exceedingly
beautiful. Birds with splendid plumage flew about, and sang
merry songs as they built their nests in the thick trees. In
spite of the sorrowful nature of their errand, the two travelers
could not help feeling a little comforted by the beauty of the
scene around them, and the nearer they came to the Beast's

palace, the fresher became the verdure, and the thicker the
95



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
throng of chirping birds, so that it seemed as if Nature were
showing its joy over some happy event.

In due time they reached the palace, which they found
- deserted, as on the merchant's first visit. But in the spacious
reception hall a magnificent supper was laid, with covers for
two persons. ‘They sat down to table, but Beauty could hardly
eat a bit for terror, while her father was overwhelmed with
grief, and sighed deeply at each mouthful he took. When
supper was over, a heavy tread was heard sounding along
the corridor; and the door of the room was roughly opened
and the Beast came stalking in. And, Oh! he was far—far
uglier than Beauty had imagined he could possibly be! She
turned pale at the sight of him as he turned toward her and
asked, “If she had come to him of her own free will.” She
faltered out—“ Yes, Beast,” and the monster observed: ina
softened tone—* Beauty, I am much obliged to you.”

This mild behavior on the part of the proprietor some-
what raised the hopes of the merchant, but they were instantly
damped by the Beast’s turning toward him, and eruffly com-
manding him to quit the palace, and never to return again
under pain of death. Having given this order in a tone which
showed that he intended to be obeyed, the Beast retired,
with a bow and a good-night to Beauty, and a glance at her
father which seemed to say—* Make haste off”

The merchant departed, after kissing his daughter a hun-
dred times, and weeping bitterly ; while she, poor girl, tried
to raise his spirits by feigning a courage she did not feel.
When he was gone, she took a candlestick and wandered
along the corridor in search of her room. She soon came

to a door on which was inscribed in large letters—* Brauty’s
96





BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

Arvartment. This proved to be a large room, elegantly fur-
nished with book-cases, sofas, and pictures; and a guitar and
other musical instruments hung against the wall. Beauty
retired to rest; and exhausted with her journey and her grief,
she quickly fell asleep.

_ Next morning she examined her apartment more closely.
On the first leaf of an album was written her own name:—
“ Beauty ;” and immediately beneath it stood, in letters of
gold, the following verse :—

‘“‘Beauteous lady—dry your tears,
Here’s no cause for sighs or fears:
Command as freely as you may,
Compliance still attends your way.”

“Ah!” thought the poor girl, “If I might have a wish
granted it would be to see how my poor father is.” She-
turned as she said it; and in a mirror opposite, to her great
surprise, she saw a picture of her home, as in a magic-lantern
view. The merchant was lying on a couch, distracted with
grief; and Beauty’s two sisters were at the window, one of
them sitting on a stool looking listlessly out, and the other
standing by assisting her. At this sad sight poor Beauty wept
bitterly, but after a time she regained her fortitude, and pro-
ceeded into the spacious dining room, where she found a
repast prepared for her ason the preceding day. ._The Beast,
too, came in, and asked permission to stay and see her eat.
Beauty replied “ Yes,” and all the while she was making her
repast the Beast sat by, looking at her with eyes of great ad-
miration. He soon began to talk, and astonished the young
lady by the extent of his information on various subjects. At
last he asked her suddenly “if she really thought him so

very, very ugly.”
97



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Copyrignt by
McLOUGHLIN BROTHERS,
1893.


CON TEN ES,

WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.

THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.

THE THREE LITTLE PIGS. .

LITTLE BO-PEEP.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

THE THREE BEARS. .

FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.

JACK THE GIANT KILLER.

THE ROBINS CHRISTMAS EVE.

THE ENCHANTED FAWN.

THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.
HECTOR, THE DOG.

THE BLUE BIRD. ; : :
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.
BLUE BEARD.

PAGE



ond war "Fe j does.

SBD 0 Seep

A! the top of the earth, which they call the North Pole,
Is where Santa Claus lives, a right jolly old soul!

And the ice and the snow lie so Hee on the ground

The sun cannot melt them the whole summer round.

All wrapped up in fur from his head to his toes,
No feeling of coldness dear Santa Claus knows,
But Hove about with a heart full of j joy,

As happy as if he were only a boy.

His cheeks are like roses; his eyes are as bright
As stars that shine out overhead in the night,
And they twinkle as merrily too all the ale
And broad as a sunbeam is Santa Claus’ smile.

He never is idle, except
when asleep,

And even in dreams at his
labors will keep,

And all thro’ the day and
the night, it is true, Mm |

He is working and plan- ay
ning, dear children, |

for you.

5


WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
On top of his tower with
spy-glass in hand,

He goes every morning to
look o'er the land,
And though there are hills

all around, I suppose,
He sees, oh, much further
than any one knows





He peeps into houses whose doors are tight shut;
He looks through the palace, and likewise the hut;
He gazes on cities, and villages small,

And nothing, no, nothing is hidden at all.

He knows where the good children live beyond doubt,
He knows what the bad boys and girls are about,

And writes down their names on a page by themselves,
In books that he keeps on his library shelves.

For good little children, the gentle
and kind,

The prettiest presents and toys
are designed,

And when Christmas comes round,
as it does once a year,

Pilis cettain that Santa Claus” then

will appear



His work-shop, is oh! such a wonderful place,
With heaps of gay satins, and ribbons, and lace;
6
WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES,

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SANTA CLAUS IN HIS LIBRARY.







ay


WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
There are games for all seasons, the base-ball and kite,
And books which the children will seize with delight,
And the skates and the sleds, far too many to count,
And the bicycles ready tor wheelmen to mount.

There are farm-yards in plenty, with fences and trees
And cows, sheep, and oxen, all taking their ease,
And turkeys, and ducks, and fine chickens and hens,
And dear little piggies to put in their pens.

There are gay Noah’s Arks,
just as full as can be

Of animals, really a wonder
to see}

There are lions, and tigers,
and camels, and bears,

And two of each kind, for
they travel in pairs.



There are elephants stretching
their noses quite long;

And reindeer and elks with
their antlers so strong,

And queer kangaroos all the
others amid,

With their dear little babies in
pockets well hid. »



Is Santa Claus happy? There's no need to ask,
For he finds such enjoyment indeed in his task,
8
WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.



SANTA CLAUS IN HIS WORK-SHOP.

That he bubbles with laughter, and whistles and sings,
While making and planning the beautiful things.

The dear little Brownies, so nimble and fleet,

Will run on his errands with tireless feet,
9
WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
And carry big bundles and boxes, because
They want to be friendly to good Santa Claus.

He's a jolly good fellow, but
ever so shy,

And likes to do all his good
deeds on the sly,

So there's no use of spoiling
a nice winters nap

For youll not catch a glimpse

of the jolly old chap.



When Christmas Eve comes, into bed you must creep,
And late in the night, when you all are asleep,

He is certain to come; so your stockings prepare,
And hang them up close by the chimney with care.

The baby’s wee stocking you must not forget,

For Santa will have something nice for the pet,

And those who are thoughtful for others
will find

The good saint at Christmas time has
them in mind.



There is Tommy, who tended the baby with care,
A nice train of cars he shall have for his share,


WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

And how happy Eliza will be when she looks
For her presents, and finds such a budget of books,

For dear little Mary, a doll there will be;

And for Alice and Jennie a gay Christmas tree;
And wee little Georgie, the baby, will find,

A big stick of candy, just suiting his mind.



IN- THE STABLE.

11





WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

Oh, a jolly good sight is this funny old chap

When he’s dressed, in his bear-skin and fur-bordered cap,

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All ready to start on his
way through the cold,
In a sleigh covered over

with jewels and gold.

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While his deer from the mountains all harnessed with care,
Like race-horses prance through the clear frosty alr
12
WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
‘Tis fun just to watch them, and hear the bells ring,
And the stars seem to think it a comical thing.

For old Santa is bundled so
close to the chin

That there 1s not a chance =m
for the cold to get in,

His cheeks are so rosy, his
eyes how they flash!

No horses or driver eer cut
such a dash!



He cracks his long whip, and
he whistles a tune,

While he winks at the stars, and
he bows to the moon,
And over the tree-tops he drives

like the wind,
And leaves all the night-birds a
long way behind.



His steeds speed away on their
journey so fleet,

That they seem to have wings to
their swift flying feet,

For there's work to be done by
the cheery old man,

And his coursers will help him

as well as they can.
13


WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

His sleigh is with toys and with trinkets
well packed,

You never beheld one with treasures
so stacked ;

And though of good children he has
such a list

Not one is forgotten; not one will ¢
be missed. —



An army he gives to the boy
who is neat,

And never is rude in the house
or the street;

And a farm to the lad who
goes smiling to school,

Who knows all his lessons,
and minds every rule.



And if you would please him—dear Bertie and Jack—
And win a nice prize from the old fellow’s pack,

Be good little children, your parents obey,

And strive to be happy at work or at play.















































14
WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.

At Christmas old Santa Claus
toils like a Turk,

For the cheery old fellow is
fond of his work,

With his queer-looking team
through the air he will go -

And alight on the house-tops.
all covered with snow.



Then down through the chimneys he'll dart without noise,
And fill up the stockings with candy and toys.

There'll be presents for Julia, and Nellie, and Jack,
And plenty more left in the old fellow’s pack.

And if Frank behaves well, and minds
what is said,

Quits teasing the cat, and
eoes early to bed ;

Piet aincdwetot mals

present a sled




or a gun,

A ready compan-
ion in frolic
and fun.

On Santa Claus hurries, and works with a will,
For many tall Christmas trees he has to fill,
And loads them with treasures from out his rich store,

Till they blossom as trees. never blossomed before.
15
WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
Though round as a dumpling, and ever so fat,
In running and climbing he’s spry as a cat,
And if the long ladder should happen
to break,
And he should fall down, what a
crash it would make!











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LOADING THE CHRISTMAS TREE.

16
WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.





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I told you his home was up North by the Pole,
In a palace of ice lives this worthy old soul,
And though out of doors it may furiously storm,
Indoors as we know, it is sunny and warm.

When Christmas is over old Santa
Claus goes

To his home in the North, and his
well earned repose,

And when he is
rested and feel-
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The good-natured
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And there will he labor from morning till night,
To make others happy his aim and delight,

And if his good-will the dear children would earn,
They must strive to be happy and good in return.

He comes like an angel of light from above,
To do on the earth sweetest errands of love;
And our hearts and our homes to so fill with good cheer

That we cannot help knowing when Christmas is near.
17
WHERE SANTA CLAUS LIVES, AND WHAT HE DOES.
Then let us be glad, so that Christmas may be
A real Merry Christmas to you and to me:
And now that the story is ended welll give |
Three cheers for old Santa Claus! Long may he live!































































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SANTA CLAUS RESTS AFTER HIS LABORS.

18
CINDERELLA, OR:+THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

















CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS
| SLIPPER.



HERE once lived near a great city a very worthy
gentleman and his charming young wife. They had
married for love, and lived very happily together;
much more happily than some of their neighbors
whe were far more wealthy. And when a baby girl was
born, who was the light of their eyes and the joy of their

hearts, they felt as if their home was a little heaven upon
19


CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

earth; and, however cold and dark the world might be out
of doors, there was always plenty of warmth and sunshine
within.

But this state of things did not last long, for the young
mother fell ill of a fever, and died when her child was too
young to feel the loss of its kind parent.

The poor husband was at first almost distracted with grief,
and but for the presence of his dear little daughter would
have been very lonely indeed. Her pretty ways and soft
caresses had a soothing effect upon him, and he felt that he
had still something left to live for.

As time wore on he became quite cheerful once more, and
began to go into society, and to think of marrying again.
His daughter needed a mother’s care, and his house was so
large that it seemed very lonely with so few people in it.
Unhappily, the choice the gentleman made this time was not
a good one, for the lady he married was proud, haughty, and
deceitful, and had a most violent temper. She was determined
to have her own way, and her good-natured husband let her
do about as she pleased. It was easier for him to put up
with an evil than to find fault, and perhaps bring on a quarrel.

Unfortunately, the new wife was a widow, and she brought
with her into the house two great rude girls, who had been
wisely kept out of sight until their mother was married and
settled in her new home. They were at least ten years older
than the gentleman's daughter, whose beauty and grace made
them appear even more homely and awkward than they
really were.

This made them jealous of the poor child, and they did all

that they could to make her life miserable and unhappy.
20
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
They teased and tormented her from morning till night, and
when she bore patiently with them—for she was anxious to
win their love—they made fun of her, and were more dis-
agreeable than ever.

The poor child made no complaint to her father, for she
knew that it would only add to his unhappiness and discom-
fort, and if he interfered it would make matters worse. It
was not long before he fell violently ill; medicines could not
save him; and he died so suddenly that the shock almost
killed his poor little daughter, who knew not how she could
live without him.

After her dear father’s death, the haughty sisters were uglier
than ever to the poor little girl. They never invited her to
share in their games, or their sports, or to join them in their
walks or drives. Their mother encouraged them in this sort
of treatment, for she seemed to owe the poor child a grudge
for being so much better looking than her own daughters.
It did not occur to her or to them that more than half their
ill-looks was owing to their ugly tempers. It is no disgrace
to be homely; and pretty manners will hide all defects of face
or form, and enable us to win hosts of friends.

But the sisters, as they grew up, gave all their thoughts to
dress, and much of their time to dress-makers and milliners.
They and their mother were always dressed in the latest style,
and held their heads very high, and would not condescend to
speak to poor people.

The young girl, who should have been treated as a daugh-
ter and sister, was made to do all the dirty work of the house.
In this way they saved the wages of a servant, that they
might have more money to spend on clothes and finery. She

21
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
made the fires, carried the water, made the beds, swept and
dusted the rooms, cooked the meals, and was as busy as a bee
from morning till night.

Her one comfort was to sit in the chimney corner when
her tasks were done, and lose herself in a dream of bright
fancies as she gazed on the glowing logs. They were warm
and friendly, though every one else was cold and unkind.
As the kitchen was her parlor, she was careful to keep it tidy
and neat, and was so often brushing up the hearth, and sitting
by the cinders, that the sisters gave her the name of Czzder-
wench, or Cinderella, which is much prettier.

Cinderella was never invited to sit in the parlor, and had
no clothes given her but such as were fit to work in. She
waited upon her sisters kindly, helped them to dress, and
admired all their new clothes, and longed, just as any young
girl would, to see how fine a bird she would be in such fine
feathers. But the selfish creatures never even let her try ona
bonnet or cloak, for fear that Cinderella might put on airs,
and refuse to be a kitchen drudge any longer.

Sometimes, when she was doing her best to please them,
they would speak harshly to her, and be so spiteful and ugly,
that Cinderella would go back to her dish-washing with tears
in her eyes, and her heart as heavy asa big lump of lead.
Now some folks would have grown cross and hateful under
such treatment as the poor girl received; but as gold when
put in the fire comes out more bright and beautiful, so did
Cinderella shine with a light that made her face at times like
that of an angel. She was pure gold through and through.

One day the two sisters received an invitation to a grand
ball to be given in honor of a Prince, who, being the eldest

22,
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
son of the king, was expected, some day, to succeed his
father on the throne. 3
It was an honor to be invited to the palace, and the note
was eagerly read, and promptly answered by the proud sisters.
Go? Of course they would! But what should they wear?



i / }
aN spiel
/ of

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aa a =
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HER FAIRY GODMOTHER APPEARS TO CINDERELLA.

This ball was the event of the day. Nothing else was
talked about. Dress-makers had more than they could do,
and the sisters were fortunate in having such a handy person
about as Cinderella. They could not deny that she had good

taste in dress, and hard at work was she kept for at least
23
CINDERELLA OR THE EIETEE' GLASS STIPPER:

three weeks preceding the ball. Meals were eaten in haste.
Dishes were washed in a rattling hurry.

Cinderella had to cut, fit, and sew, and listen to al! the talk
about the ball—who was to be there, and what So-and-So
was to wear—without daring to make a remark, or ask a
single question. |

When the day of the ball came, oh, then, what a hurry
and flurry there was! nobody had any time to think of any-
thing else. The streets of the city were hung with flags, and
bands of music played from morning till night. Cinderella
was up early, for she had a world of work to do, and there
were some finishing touches to be put on the dresses the
sisters were to wear.

Cinderella felt a pride in having them look nice, and saw
that not a hair-pin or a hook was out of place. She arranged
their hair in the latest style, and while at this work, one of
the sisters said to her with a mocking smile,

“Don’t you wish you were going to the ball, Cinderella?”

“Tndeed, indeed I do!” exclaimed the poor child, already
in a fever of excitement.

“A fine figure you would cut!” said the other, and homelier
sister. “Better stay among the pots and pans. ‘That's the
place for you!”

Cinderella bit her lip, but said nothing, though she had
hard work to choke back the sobs that would keep rising to
her throat.

The sisters drove to the ball in a fine carriage, with coach-
man and footmen in livery, and when they were gone the
house was so quiet, that had any one been listening they

might have heard the rats playing in the cellar. But Cinder-
24
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

ella was too busy with her own thoughts to think of rats.
Now she could give vent to her tears, and she sat on her
favorite seat by the hearth thinking what a lonely life she led,
trying to imagine what a ball was like, and wishing, wishing,
wishing hard that she was there in the midst of the light,
the flowers, and the music. ,
As this wish rose from her heart, Cinderella looked up
and saw a strange-looking old woman, who seemed to have
come into the room without opening either door or window.
Her feet rested on a cloud, and a bright light surrounded her.

In her hand she held a long wand.










CINDERELLA ORVLHE MTT PLEGG LASS SEIP PER:

Cinderella scarcely knew whether she was asleep or awake.
The old woman drew near her, and said in.a kindly voice,
“What is the matter, dear child? Do you want to go to
the: ball?

“Oh, indeed I do!” answered Cinderella, tears fillin: ng her
eyes.

“Well, be a good girl, and do as I tell you, and: I'll send
you off in fine style. I am your fairy godmother. Bring
me the largest pumpkin you can find.”

Cinderella was surprised, but the fairy godmother seemed
so much in earnest, that the poor girl dared not disobey, but
ran at once to do as she was told. As she carried the pump-
kin through the garden, she could not help smiling at the
thought at the fines figure she would cut sitting on top of
it, a speeding through ihe air. The fairy, however, touched
the pumpkin with her wand, and lo and behold! in its place
appeared a magnificent coach lined with satin and plush, and
ht for Her Rol Highness to ride 1 In.

“That 1s good as e: as it goes,” said the fairy; “but it won't
go far eathout horses. ee in the mouse- tae. my child, and
see if there is any thing in it.”

Cinderella ran Gace to do her bidding, and was delighted
to find eight plump mice caught in the trap... There they
were, poking their little noses fhroueh the bars and trying to
get out. And how they did eatieald Cinderella took care
that not one of them should escape, as she bore the trap in
triumph to her godmother.

hes fairy told her to raise the wire door that the mice
might come out, one by one. As they did so, a touch of the

wand transformed them into handsome horses, with arching
26
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITILE GLASS SLIPPER.









\ re gS FON q

CINDERELLA AT THE Se

necks, shining manes, and long tails, and splendid harness all
plated with gold. It was enough to make one's eyes water
just to look at them.

“Well, my child,” said the fairy, “this is a fine turn-out,
truly. But there are the finishing touches yet to be put on.
Go and see if there are any rats in the rat-trap |”

Cinderella ran with all haste, and soon returned bearing
the trap, which had in it two rats of the very best quality.
One was bigger than the other, and as he sprang out of the
trap, he was changed into a coachman, and took his place on

27
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
the box as orderly as you please. The other rat was trans-
formed into a footman, and both were in splendid livery
ornamented with gold.

But this was not all. “Bring me six lizards,” said the
fairy godmother. “You will find them behind the watering-
pot in the garden.”

The lizards were brought, and at once transformed into
pages, whose duty it was to run alongside or ahead of the
coach, and announce its arrival. ‘These immediately sprang
to their places, and stood as if awaiting further orders.

“There, Cinderella!” exclaimed her godmother, gazing
with pride upon the equipage. ‘Could anything be finer
than that? Jump in, and be off.”

Cinderella looked at her shabby clothes, contrasting them
with the splendor of the coach, and shook her head sadly.
The godmother understood at once, and said “Oh, I sec!
You think that dress is hardly fit to wear toa ball. Well, we
can easily remedy that. My dress-maker is wonderfully
skilful, and will fit you out in short order.”

Saying this, she touched Cinderella with her wand, and
immediately the old clothes fell off the young girl, and she
stood arrayed in a beautiful dress that shone like cloth of
gold. Jewels sparkled here and there—on her hands—at
her throat—and on her waist; and to crown all, the fairy
brought a pair of lovely glass slippers—that shone like dia-
monds—for Cinderella to put on. How dressed up one feels
in a pretty pair of shoes!

The godmother paused awhile to admire Cinderella in her
new attire, and then she said, “I have but one charge to give

you, my child. Leave the ball-room at twelve o'clock sharp!
28




CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER

If you remain a moment beyond that time, your coach will
become a pumpkin, your coachman, footman, and horses, rats
and mice, and your pages, lizards. Your beautiful dress, too,
will vanish away, and leave you in the shabby clothes of a
kitchen drudge.”

Cinderella promised to be punctual, for twelve o'clock
seemed to her a late hour. But then she had never been to
a ball!

There was a great stir at the palace when the splendid
carriage drove up, and great was the interest displayed when

























et oY a
SZ = a ¥ an ” 4 e Sees UES
——— te Se! Sees e 380") ae
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Sore

THE FLIGHT FROM THE BALL.
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
Cinderella alighted. The Lord High Chamberlain himself
escorted her to the ball-room, and introduced her to the Prince,
who wmmiediately claimed her hand for the pect dance.
Cinderella was in a whirl of delight, the envy and admiration ©
of all the ladies and gentlemen. The hours flew all too fast.
At supper Cinderella was seated next her sisters, and even
conversed with them. The kind condescension of so distin-
guished a stranger was very flattering to them, and they were
on their best behavior.

When the hands of the clock pointed to a quarter of twelve,
Cinderella, mindful of her godmother’s injunction, arose and
hastened to her carriage. The Prince hurried after her,
expressed his regret that she must leave so soon, and begged
her to visit the palace the next evening, when the festivities
were to be continued. - He then returned to the ball-room,
but found the place very dull indeed, now that the Princess
was not among the guests.

Cinderella reached home in good time, and was commended
by her godmother, who promised to look after her interests
in the future. Soon a loud rap on the door announced the
arrival of the sisters, and Cinderella made haste to let them
in, rubbing her eyes and yawning as if just awakened out of
a sound sleep, 7

AAs soon as they entered the house they began to tell of the
beautiful Princess, of the excitement she had created, and the
preference she had shown for their society. When they said
the Princess was expected to be at the palace the next evening,
Cinderella begged that they would lend her one of their cast-
off dresses that she might go and see the wonderful beauty.

The sisters laughed her to scorn, and the next day were uglier |
30
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.



















N

x

. »~

oe |
alr
lee
Ve

TRYING ON THE SLIPPER.

to her than ever, finding fault when they had no occasion,
and striking her whenever they had a good chance.

“Tl teach you to have better manners, and to know your
place! “Phe idea of you daring to ask for one of my dresses,
or to think of going to a ball! Take that!—and that!” said
the younger sister, who had the most violent temper. And
Cinderella bore their hard treatment with a meekness that
was really remarkable.

The next evening the sisters went again to the ball, and
Cinderella made her appearance there shortly afterwards,

dressed even more splendidly than on the first night. The
31


CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
Prince had been watching for her, and never left her side the
whole evening. The attentions he paid her would have
turned the head of almost any young lady, but Cinderella |
received them all with a repose of manner that made the
Prince more charmed with her than ever.

But so happy was Cinderella that she forgot to look at the
clock, or to listen for its warning chime, and was greatly
surprised when the first stroke of twelve rang upon her ear.
She sprang up in haste, and ran from the ball-room as fast as
she could, never even waiting to courtesy to the guests, or to
say good night to the devoted Prince.

It was well she did so, for at the last stroke of twelve, the
splendid carriage, horses and all resumed their original forms,
her elegant clothes fell from her, and she found herself clad
once more in her old dingy working-dress. “The Prince started
in pursuit, but lost track of her in the midnight darkness. In
her flight, however, she dropped one of her glass slippers,
which the Prince found and held to his heart as if it was
a priceless treasure.

Cinderella reached home panting and breathless, in very
different style from that-in which she had left the first ball.

The Prince, in the meantime, had made inquiries of the
sentinels on guard, both inside and outside the palace, but
none of them could tell him which way the Princess went.
In fact, the only person they had seen leaving in haste was a
young girl poorly dressed, who looked as if she might be a
cinder-sweep.

Cinderella had not long to wait for the return of her sisters;
for the ball had closed early, as the Prince was so dull and

vexed. She again met them, rubbing her eyes, and yawning
382
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
wearily, but managed to ask them if they had enjoyed them-
selves, and if the beautiful Princess had again made her
appearance at the palace.
. Yes, they said, and more beautiful than ever, but at twelve
o'clock she suddenly started up and left the ball-room, where-





A PERFECT FIT.

33
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
upon the Prince seemed to lose all interest in everything, and
the guests soon departed.

The Prince remained in a listless state for some time.
Night and day he thought of the charming Princess, with
whom he was madly in love, and sought in many ways to
find some trace of her. He sent agents far and wide to
search for her, but nothing came of It.

At last a bright idea struck him. He got up a proclama-
tion which said:

Tue Kine’s soN WILL MARRY THE LADY WHO IS ABLE TO WEAR
THE GLASS SLIPPER WHICH WAS DROPPED AT THE LATE BALL.

Then he sent out a herald with a trumpet to proclaim this
wonderful news, and great was the excitement it caused.
Such a squeezing of feet as there was! and such suffering
from corns! The herald had orders to stop at every house,
and every lady tried to put on the slipper, but all in vain.
At last he came to the home of Cinderella's sisters, who
endeavored to put on the lovely glass slipper! But it was
too short for one, and too narrow for the other, and they
were obliged to give it up.

Cinderella, who had been watching them eagerly, stepped.
forward and asked if she might be permitted to try on the
slipper. The sisters exclaimed, “ What impudence!” but the
herald said his orders were to pass no lady by, and Cinder-
ella put down her scrubbing-brush and seated herself to try
on the slipper. There was no trouble getting it on; it fitted
her to a T. The sisters were speechless with amazement;
but imagine, if you can, their look of surprise when Cinder-
clla drew from her pocket the other glass slipper, which she

had carried about with her ever since that fateful night.
34
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

Now the sisters could see in Cinderella’s face some resem-
blance to the Princess who had taken so much notice of them
at the ball, and whose attentions they were so proud to receive.
How had it been brought about? As if in answer to their
thought the fairy godmother entered the room, and the blush-

a egne Ss
Hab






















MARRIAGE OF CINDERELLA.

ing maiden was transformed into the beautiful Princess. The
herald set off at once to bear the joyful tidings to his master
that the Princess was found. |

You may well believe that the sisters were sorry enough

35
CINDERELLA, OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.
that they had treated Cinderella so harshly, and they sup-
posed that now the tables were turned she would despise
them, and be glad of a chance to pay them back for their
ill-usage. Mortified and ashamed, they went down on their
knees and asked her forgiveness, and Cinderella, bidding
them rise, begged them to think no more of the past, or to
fear her hatred. She assured them that she should never
forget that they were her sisters, and would do all she could
to add to their future happiness and prosperity.

A royal escort was sent to conduct Cinderella to the palace,
and great was the joy of the Prince at beholding her again.
She consented to become his wife, and the wedding was con-
ducted with regal pomp and splendor, and there was no end
to the congratulations; and as for the wedding-cake! well,
there was no skimping there, I can tell you.

The sisters were assigned the place of honor at the ban-
quet, and owing to Cinderella’s generosity were able to make
a very fine appearance. For among her wedding-gifts was
a large dowry from her godmother, and as Cinderella’s hap-
piness consisted in making others happy, she did not hoard
her wealth, but spent it among the poor, after settling a large
sum on each of her sisters.

Cinderella made hosts of friends, and she and the Prince
lived happily together for many years, and among all the
treasures of the royal palace there was nothing quite so pre-
cious as

CinpERELLA’S Grass Sripper.

36
THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

There was a Frog lived in a bog—
A Frog of high degree—

A stylish youth, and yet, forsooth,
A bachelor was he.








He had not wed,

Because, he said, bs es
He'd ne'er in all his life é ee oe

Seen in the bog : apes

pee ate He passed a aren
He cared to make his wife. Se

And there beside
the window

x j

ow spied

S\N A most attractive
mouse.





NTN
Wyk




























































THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

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He raised his hat, He made a bow,
And gazing at Likewise a vow
Miss Mouse, in suit of gray, To marry her straightway.

38
THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

When he was drest a
In scarlet vest, Le ae
ff Ne
And coat of velvet sheen ee

’












With frills of lace,
And sword in place,
His like was nowhere
seen.

His smile was bland;
His style so grand,
He said with pride, ‘I









know A aN
Miss Mouse so fair, dey
Can find nowhere MA WZ)

VF" Sy
Ui S
RNs

So suitable a beau!

“Tfeshellagree
To live with me,
And be my faithful wife,
Oh, she shall dine
On dishes fine,
And lead an easy life.”

When he went by,
Miss Mouse, so shy,
Would hide her blush-
ing face ;
But truth to tell
Could see quite well
Through curtains of thin lace.

And from her nook! ah many a look
She gave, with heart a-stir ;
And oft did she confess that he
Was just the beau for her.

39
THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.







































He passed the door,
And on the floor
He knelt and kissed her hand ;
“Wilt marry me?”
He asked, while she
Her burning blushes fanned.

At last so blue poor froggy grew,
He went up to the house
And rang the bell, in haste to tell

His love for Mistress Mouse.
‘ 40
THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.

as you may

”

She answered “‘ Yes,

pe. ouiless,
To Mister Frog’s deli
His arm he placed around her

ght;

waist,
And joy was at its height.









ghtway ;
The town was all agog;

The ‘wedding-day was set
Strat

?

ere sent

not few, w

And gifts,

unto
Miss Mouse and Mister Frog.

And never yet
Was banquet set,
In country or in town

J

more rich

Than that to which

fare

With

r

The weddin

o
Oo




guests sat









41
THE FROG AND THE MOUSE.


















zs iN 7 ‘
a AG eS
TGA
a We My
SAR We








And, after all,

And frogs and mice
There was the ball,

Were up in a trice,
for which the band was And cdanced.till their toes
hired ! were tired.
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.









LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.



(NCE upon a time, there lived in a small cottage on the

~ edge of a deep wood, a forester and his wife, and their
dear little daughter. The little child was as lovely as a picture,
and a great pet with everybody. Her mother liked to see
her prettily dressed, and made her a red cloak with a hood
"to it, so that the neighbors gave her the name of Little Red
Riding Hood.

She was a merry little maid, and went about the house

singing and laughing the whole daylong. She made friends
43
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
with birds, and with beasts, and was not afraid of anything,
not even the dark.

One day Red Riding Hood's mother said to her, “ My
child, you may go to your grandmother's with this pat of
butter and bottle of blackberry-wine, for we have not heard
from her in some days, and she may be in need of some-
thing. Do not stay too long, for I shall be anxious to hear
how she 1s.”

The old lady had not been well for some time, and some
days was so lame that she could not get out of bed, and had
to depend on the neighbors to come in and get her meals.

Red Riding Hood was delighted to do her mother's errand,
for she was fond of her grandmother, who always had funny
stories to tell, or something nice to give her when she went
there on a visit.

So her mother put on her scarlet cloak, gave her the well-
filled basket, kissed her good-by, and sent her off with many
loving messages for the poor sick grandmother.

Her way led through the lonesome woods, but Little Red
Riding Hood was not the least bit afraid, for she was used
to playing in them, and running races through them, never
minding whether she kept in the path or not. So she went
on as. happy as a lark, looking back now and then, as long as
her home was in sight, to see if her mother was still at the
door, and to throw her a kiss from the tips of her fingers.

For a long, long time after Red Riding Hood had gone so
far that she could not see the house, her mother stood in the
doorway with a smile on her face, every now and then catch-
ing a glimpse of the bright red cloak that shone through the

trees, and thinking how pretty her dear little daughter looked
44
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
in it, with her soft golden curls flying out beyond the cun-
ning scarlet hood. ,

How glad she was that she had such a dear little girl; and
how lonesome the house was when she was not in it! Why
it seemed as if all the sunshine had gone into the woods, and
was wrapped in under the pretty red cloak, that the very
geese knew enough to admire.

The birds kept Little Red Riding Hood company, and sang
her their sweetest songs. The squirrels ran up and down the |
tall trees, and made her laugh at their funny antics. Now





RED RIDING HOOD IN BAD COMPANY.
45
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
and then a rabbit would come across her path, and sometimes
Red Riding Hood would put down her basket, and give
chase to the bunnies, hoping she might catch one of the
pretty white pets. But they always managed to get out of
her way, for they could jump faster than she could run.

Butterflies darted here and there—some light yellow, some
with soft gray wings—and Red Riding Hood ran after these
until she was tired. Sometimes one would poise on a‘ green
leaf close at hand, and just as Red Riding Hood was about
to seize the pretty thing, away it would go deeper in the woods,
and seem to urge her to follow.

By-and-by she grew hungry, and sat down on a flat stone
‘to eat the nice lunch her mother had put up for her, and oh,
how good it did taste!

The birds came round her for their share, and it was fun
to see them crowd on each other and squabble over the
crumbs. How they did chatter and scold! And what greedy
things they were! You could almost hear them say, “ Let
that alone! That's mine! I was here first! O you pig!”
and when the crumbs were all gone they all cried, “More!
more! more!” or at least it sounded as if they did.

It was so lovely in the woods that Red Riding Hood
was in no hurry to leave them. Wild flowers were plentiful,
and she said, aloud, “Oh, I must stop and pick some for
grandmother, she is so fond of them!” |

So she went out of the path to gather the fox-gloves, the
wild honey-suckles, and the dark wood violets that were
growing all around; and with these and some sweet ferns
and long grasses she made a very pretty nosegay.

But dear me! when she turned to go back to the path
46
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
she could not find it, and for a moment she was scared,
for she thought she was lost in the woods.
~The birds knew of her plight, and as she had been good
to them, they would be good to her; so two of them flew
down, and calling to Red Riding Hood in their pretty,

coaxing way, led her out of the tangle of brush-wood into



yl aye

Wi,

they)


LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
the smooth path, and to the very place where she had left
her basket.

While she sat resting for a few moments, a wolf came up
and spoke to her; which did not seem at all strange to Little
Red Riding Hood, as wolves and fairies were quite common
in those a

“ Good-day,” said the wolf. “Where are you going all

alone by yourself, my pretty miss?”

“I am going to my grandmother's,” said Little Red Riding
Hood, “to Bite her some fresh butter and nice blackberry.
wine, for she is quite sick.”

“ She ought : be proud of such a lovely grand-daughter,”
said the wolr “T don't know when I fave met any one
quite so handsome.”

Flattered by these coin pliiente Red -Riding Hood let
the wolf walk by her side, although the birds Rear warning
her that he was a wicked rogue, and she'd better get rid
of him.

She had an idea that poor company was better than none,
which was a mistaken notion, for it is much better to be alone
than in bad company, as Little Red Riding Hood found out,
before a great while had passed.

. Where does grandma live?” asked the wolf in as sweet a
voice as he could command.

“Just outside the woods. You can see her cottage through
the trees.” 7

“Ah, yes;” said the wolf “I think I'll call on the dear
old lady. She will certainly be glad to see me when she
learns how skillful Iam in curing diseases. Just for the fun of
the thing, suppose you take the path to the left, while I follow

48
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
this one to the right, and we will have a little race to see
which shall get to the cottage first.”

Now the crafty wolf knew that he was sure to win this
race, for he had chosen the shortest way, and, besides that,
he intended as soon as he was out of the little girl's sight
to go at a speed which she could not attempt to keep up
with. But Red Riding Hood suspected nothing. She was
so young that she did not know that though wolves might
appear to be as mild as sheep, they were still wolves at heart,
ready to bite and rend whatever came in their way. She was




























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a

mw SARS
ve EB ss
{Fee YS




é

3

\
es \
ASR

49 A RACE TO THE COTTAGE.
LITTLE RED RIPING HOOP.

kind and gentle herself, and thought everybody was the same.
She had yet to learn that often os who pretend to be our
best friends, turn out to be our worst enemies. They are fair
to our face, and false behind our back. ‘They deceive us by
their sweet ways, and do their best to put us off our guard.

The wolf took a short cut out of the woods, and soon
came to the cottage of Red Riding Hood's grandmother. A
bird on a spray outside fairly screeched to give warning to
the old lady within, but if she heard it ae did not coe

what if meant.

The wolf rapped gently at the door, and the old lady, who
was in bed, roused herself and said, “Is that you, darling?
Pull the string and the latch will fly up.”

The wolf pulled the string, and stood still a moment ere
he opened the door. He thought he heard footsteps near,
for hunters now and then went through the woods in search
of game, but it was only the bird on the spray, who made a
frantic effort to. scare off the wicked intruder.

But the wolf knew there was no time to waste, so he slip-
ped through the door of the cottage, which soon flew back
on its hinges.

“Tam ever so glad you've come, darling,” said the grand-
mother, imagining that her visitor was Little Red Riding
Hood. “I’m rather more poorly than usual, dear, and it
pains me to turn my head.”

“T’m so sorry,” said the wolf, mimicking the voice of the
little grand-daughter. ‘“ Mother's sent you something nice
in a basket.”

“Well, put it on a chair, dear, and take off your cloak;

and then come and give me a kiss.”
59
TELE EAR DERIDING LOO:





























RED RIDING HOOD ARRIVES AT THE COTTAGE.

“That I'll do at once!” said the wolf as he sprang on
the bed, and glared in the face of the grandmother, who
tried to beat him off with -her crutch. But she had not
strength to battle with such a foe, and the hungry wolf,
with glaring red cyes, ate up Red Riding Hood's poor dear
erandmother, like the crucl monster that he was!

Oh, the blood-thirsty, horrible wretch!

It makes one shudder to think of the terrible deed! But
this was not all! The taste of blood had made him thirst

for more; so he put on the old lady's nightcap and gown,

and snuggled himself down under the bed-clothes, to wait

for Red Riding Hood to appear.

51
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.

What a slow-poke she was! It seemed as if she never
would come! and the longer the wolf waited, the crosser he
got! Several times he had cocked up his head, thinking he
heard her at the door, and still she did not come. He was
just beginning to think she never would find her way out of
the woods, when he heard a low rap at the door. The little
girl rapped softly, for she thought that grandma might be
asleep, and she didn’t wish to disturb her, in that case, until
she awoke.

The wolf waited awhile, then called out as the old lady had
done: “Is that you, darling? Pull the string, and the latch
will fly up.” His voice was rather harsh, but not unlike the
grandmother's when she had a bad cold. :

So Red Riding Hood pulled the string, and went into the
house, set her basket on a table, and went up to the bed-side.
She was scared at the change that had come over her poor
sick grandmother. What could ail her to make her look like
this?) She must have some terrible disease!

The child stared and stared, and her breath came quick
and short.

“Why, Grannie,’ she said, as soon as she could speak,
“what big eyes you've got!”

“The better to see with, my child,” said the wolf, imitating
the grandmother's voice as much as possible.

“And oh, Grannte,” exclaimed the child, “what a great
long nose youve got!”

“The better to smell with, my child.”

“ But, Grannie, what great big ears you've got!”

“The better to hear with, my child.” 3

Red Riding Hood began to grow more scared than she

52
LITILE RED RIDING HOOD.






Ll ales

—

fpr




Sev here ce
T ' Trafmaln es met

















RED RIDING HOOD IS ALARMED.

had ever been in all her life, and her voice trembled when

sheesatde =

“Oh, Grannie, what great—big—teeth

“The better to eat you up!” said the wolf, in his own
natural voice ; and he was just about putting his long, sharp
yellow fangs in the child's soft white flesh, when the door was
flung open, and a number of men armed with axes rushed in
and made him let go his hold, and Little Red Riding Hood
fainted in her father's arms.

He was on his way home from work with some other

- 58

) x !”
you ve—got.


LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
foresters, and was just in time to save his dear little daughter
from being eaten up by the wicked wolf that had devoured
her grandmother.

With one or two strokes of the axe, the wolf's head was
cut off so that he could do no more harm in the world, and
his body was tied to a pole and carried home in triumph by
the foresters.

Friends from far and near came to see Little Red Riding
Hood, and to congratulate her and her parents. She had to
tell, over and over again, just ey she met the wolf, how

YL:



















DEATH OF THE WOLF.
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.





HOME IN TRIUMPH.

he looked, and what he said, until it seemed as if she never
got out of the woods at all, not even in her dreams.

When children were told the story it was always with
this word of warning: When you are sent on an errand, go
right along, and do it as quickly as you can. Do not stop
to play on the road, or to make friends with strangers, who
may turn out to be wolves in sheep's clothing.

And they promised to remember, and shuddered when-
ever they thought what might have been the fate of dear

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.

55
THE THREE LTT LEESKLT LENS,






‘THREE little kittens
Lost their mittens,
And they began to cry,
“Oh, mammy dear, we sadly fear
Our mittens we have lost!”

“What! lost your mittens,
You naughty kittens,
Then you shall have no pie!”
Miew, miew, miew, miew,



Miew, miew, miew, miew.

The three little kittens, without their mittens,
Began to feel quite blue.

“Oh! mammy dear, Oh! mammy dear, .

Pray tell us what to do!”

56
THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.



















“Go find your mittens, you silly kittens,
And be quick about it too!”
Miew, miew, miew, miew,

Miew, miew, miew, miew.
57
THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.



The three little kittens

Then sought their mittens
Upon the table high;

In doors and out

They scampered about,
For they were very spry;

Now high, now low,

The three in a row,
And oh! how they made

things fly!

Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.

The three little kittens
Found their mittens,
And they began to cry,
“Oh! mammy dear,
See here, see here,

Our mittens we have found!”

68











i
y » i

ha y
yy
Vy B

“What! found your mittens,
You darling kittens,
Then you shall have some pie.”
Purr, purr, purr, purr,
Purr, purr, purr, purr.

The three little kittens
Put on their mittens,
And soon ate up the pie.
“Oh! mammy dear,

We sadly fear

Our mittens we have soiled.”
THE THREE LITILE KITTENS.
“What! soiled your mittens, you naughty kittens!”
Then they began to sigh,
“ Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.’

Spy neta ee
AWS YE

NOES ts ee
ASAT)
—













a PRS





















1 " ie
«

the
what, 7
'

‘ TASS as
ht, WA oe
As “rest

\

Nite

\I i




seed

ma Y
LO
NG mT nie yi







sii ala Ne
A UMMA, MeN
Anil IN! NN \ gue SS Gi ey
me oe MN FR




i
AS

THE MITTENS FOUND.
THE THREE LITTLESKITIENS,

4 aN
Dn
Sec S* Toe i <
. MN ye 8 s Z a
Be? 3 XY RE are Ae. a
cr AR MS . ay, Oe v=
. Ces 725 4 Nt we —lty >
= is oS 4 why, te = aa cy
' * u Re Y “a ae pt eee
PF 2ysh 4
\ oS

















Wi
hat

ay ite



















eS “
} rey, et,
K
ceili ry hte
oom ae



\ we Han Meee Wy ili I

ee, eee
Hl : op), My ite we ee,
Sage, ES
dani aN ees ‘
ri ) : oe a
MD y+ A
pie 2

,

. V6

Ay Wy ges ( f

n \\ 4 Wh tn WeGis ,
WW ip Wy a! Nogeh

(Ws.
YY iM iS
; yg’ wih we My,
: ¥ a : v ue VSS ia
’ lene . i,
a 7 ie Te Sb vty) ly Ake tae
AO ak Ripa ites see aE yw eae
Leth Monte a \ is \! ty hy a
z VY epay

The three little kittens washed their mittens,
And hung them up to dry.
“Oh, mammy dear, look here, look here,

Our mittens we have washed.”
60
THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS. :
_.., “What! washed your mittens,
You good little kittens!
But I smell a rat close by!
Hush! hush!” Miew, miew,

Miew, miew, miew, miew.

These kittens so gay
Were invited one day
Tofeast by arunning stream,
Where they had as muchmeat
As they wanted to eat,
And plenty of nice ice-cream,
And each went to sleep
Curled up in a heap,
And had a most lovely dream.
Purr, purr, purr, purr,
Purr, purr, purr, purr.



One night in the Fall they went to a ball,
And danced to a lively tune,
With a leap and a bound and a merry-go-round,
And the sound of a big bassoon ;
And with holes in their mittens, those careless kittens
Came home by the light of the moon.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.

These kittens—all three—were ime to tea
At Madame Angora’s house,
Who wore her best silk, and served them with milk

And catnip on which to carouse ;
61
THE THREE LITILE KITTENS.









And polite as you please they were taking their ease,
When they chanced to catch sight of a mouse.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.

62
THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.
The kittens gave chase—ran all over the place,
And up to the roof at a bound,

Their noses stuck in every basket and bin,

Till they were as black as the ground;
And the mousie so small
Had the best of it all,

For it hid where it couldn't be found.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.











These kittens ‘twas said

Were soon to be wed,

The cards had been out
some days,

And cat-birds no doubt
Spread the news about
As they flew o’er the
great highways;
And cats, one and all,
The great and the small,
Were loud in the kittens’ praise.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,

Miew, miew, miew, miew.
638
THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.

At last came the day, and in splendid array,
The guests soon began to arrive;
The aunts and the cousins by sixes and dozens,
All buzzing like bees in a hive;
And among them Sir Rouser, a famous old mouser,
And the handsomest maltese alive.
Purr, purr, purr, purr,
Purr, purr, purr, purr.



Then, after the marriage, each groom called his carriage,
And oh, they rode off in fine style;
The brides beaming brightly, and bowing politely,
To friends every once in a while;
Who kept up a squalling, and great caterwauling,
That might have been heard for a mile.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,

Miew, miew, miew, miew.
64
THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.



The guests kept on dancing, now leaping and prancing ;

The band still continued to play;
And “ Puss-in-the-corner,” and “ Little Jack Horner,’

Were games very much in their way ;

65
| THE THREE LITTLE RITTENS.
With singing and
screeching,
And laughter far-
reaching,
They had a good
time, I daresay.
Miew, miew, miew,
miew,
Miew, miew, miew,
miew.

Till suddenly ——
Hark!
There came a fierce
bark,
That made the cats
tremble with
fright;
Put an end to their fun, and made them all run,
Fear lending great speed to their flight,
And bow-wows, and spit-spits, from the puppies and kits,
Were heard all the rest of the night. |
Bow-wow, miaow, bow-wow, miaow,
Bow-wow, miaow, bow-wow.



The three pretty brides, and their husbands besides,
Took rooms in a very nice flat ;
Not a rat nor a mouse was eer seen in the house,

Nor any one heard to cry Scat!
66
OTHE PURER LIT IEE RITTENS.
So they lived and looked pleased—they were petted
_ not teased —
Now what do you think of that?
Purr, purr, purr, purr,
Pui pur. purl purr:













yy ee

| Stonwnee (2
|

: ie

Py Ute
id tiilie
yi oa

| I























67
THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.

The three little kittens who lost their mittens,
Those mittens had quite out-grown
Ere the year was out, and I very much doubt
That the mother her kittens had known; |
And each of the three—'tis true as can be !—
Had dear little kits of her own !
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.

The motherly kittens began to knit mittens,
To put on the dear little paws ;
And the kittens were taught to do as they ought,
And trained how to use their sharp claws,
And how to catch mice and rats in a trice,
And to keep out of traps with great jaws.
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew miew, miew, miew.

And as they grew old I’ve no doubt they told
This story—as now have I—
Of the three little kittens who lost their mittens,
And couldn't have any pie,
Till the mittens were found, and [ll be bound
They set up a mournful cry
Miew, miew, miew, miew,
Miew, miew, miew, miew.



68
THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.











Ae STORY of

2 LLL FD

fit THREE LITTLE PIGS.










(} NCE upon a time there was an old pig
with three little pigs, and as she had not
enough to keep them, she sent them out to
| seck their fortunes.

The first that went off met a man with a bun-
dle of straw, and said to him, “ Please, man, give me that
straw to build me a house;” which the man did, and the
little pig built a house with it. Presently a wolf came along
and knocked at the door, and said,— |

Slime bic soirtce ie. bet Mr-Come, Int:

‘To which the pig answered.—
69 ‘ ;
THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.



py Lo
4 a

2

“PLEASE, MAN, GIVE ME THAT STRAW.”

“No, No, sy THe Harr on my Curwny-Curn-Cutn !”
This made the wolf angry, and he said,—

“Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!”
So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew the house 1n,

and ate up the little pig.

70
7 THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.

The second little pig met a man chopping wood, and said,
“Please, man, give mé some of that wood to build me a
house ;” which the man did, and the pig built his house with it.

Then along came the wolf, and said,—

Vere ie biriie Lice Na Comin

“No, No, py THE Harr on my Cainny-Cuin-Cuin !”

“Then I'll huff, and Vil puff, and I'll blow your house in!”

So he huffed, and he puffed, and
he puffed and he huffed, and at last
he blew the house down, and then ate BE
up the little pig.

The third little pig met a man with
a load of bricks, and said, “ Please,
man, give me those bricks to build a
house with ;” so the man gave him the
bricks, and he built his house with
them. [Then the wolf came, as ;
he had done to the other little A.













pigs, and said,—
THE THREE LITTLE PGS.

e



THE SECOND LITTLE PIG AND THE WOOQD-CHOPPER.

“Lortrte Pic, Lirrir Pic, Ler Me Come In!”

“No, No, sy THE Harr on my Cyinny-Cutn-Cutn !”
“Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and T'll blow your house in.”
Well, he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and he
THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS.

huffed, and he huffed and he puffed; but he could not get
the house down. When he found that he could not, with all
his huffing and puffing, blow the house down, he Sale alana
pig, I know where there 1s a nice field of turnips.”
“Where?” said the little pig.
“Oh, in Mr. Smith's Home-field, and if you will be ready

SVS



1A a TS SES Ea A ag
pk ae
WLS

noe



A Nae,
when G
pu me

“ure

eS am
wid 2m

“ PLEASE, MAN, GIVE ME THOSE BRICKS.”

73
THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.
to-morrow morning I will call for you, and we will go to.
gether, and get some for dinner.”
“Very well,” said the pig, “I will be ready. What time
do you mean to go?”

‘Oh, at six o'clock.”

Well, the little pig got up at
five, and got the turnips before
the wolf came—which he did
about six—and said, “ Little pig
are you ready?” The little pig
said, “ Ready? I have been, and
come back again, and got a nice
pottful for dinner.”

The wolf felt very angry at
this, but thought that he would
be up to the little pig some how
or other, so he
said, “ Little pig,

I know where








there is a nice
pear-trec,”
“Where 2”
sad the pig.
“Down at
, GF f Merry-garden,”
| replied the wolf,
“and if you will
not deceive me,
I will come for
are | you at five
THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.
oclock to-morrow, and we will go together and get some
pears.” |
Well, the little pig bustled up the next morning at four
oclock, and went off for the pears, hoping to get back before
the wolf came. But he had further to go, and had to climb
the tree, so that just.as he was getting down from it he saw




gS ily
nt

ss { ey \nty ‘i
ae esi tif ie, Wt,
\ Was pe Xs ‘ Paar ies
Mi, Wy Ne Cp
% wo Bey ee aN 50)
Vie su) 1
Sth i, > ue id;
j he

3 EES ee oN EEN Pa
LP thyy ay “

THE LITTLE PIG THROWS A PEAR TO THE WOLF,


THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.
the wolf coming, which, as you may suppose, frightened him
very much. When the wolf came up he said, “ What! are
you here before me? are they nice pears?” “ Yes, very,” said
the little pig. “I will throw you down one;” and he threw it
so far that while the wolf was going to
pick it up, the little pig jumped down

and ran home.



ae Qe The next day the wolf came again,
: lee s and said to the little pig, “ Little pig,
as there is a fair at Shanklin this after-
noon; will you go?”
“Oh yes,” said the pig, “I will be glad to go; what time
will you be ready ?”
76

Ly
THE THREE LITTLE PiGs.



i : ; uy f i 1
| wnt COTE a a



THE LITTLE PIG AT THE FAIR.

«“ At three,” said the wolf.

So the little pig went off before the time, as usual, and got
to the fair, and bought a butter-churn, which he was going
home with when he saw the wolf coming.

v7
THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.
Then he could not tell what to do. So he got into the
churn to hide, and by so doing turned it over, and it rolled:
down the hill with the pig in it, which frightened the wolf
so much that he ran home without going to the fair.
He went to the little pig’s house, and: told him how
frightened he had been by a great round thing which came
down the hill past him.



Then the little pig said, “Ha!
I frightened you then. I had been to the fair and bought a
butter-churn, and when I saw you I got into it and rolled
down the hill.” .

Then the wolf was very angry indeed, and declared he
would eat up the little pig, and that he would get down the
chimney after him.

When the little pig saw what he was about, he hung on
78
THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.







TTHE WOLF STARTS DOWN THE CHIMNEY,

the pot full of water, and made up a blazing fire, and just as
the wolf was coming down, took off the cover, and in fell the
wolf! So the little pig put on the cover again in an instant,
boiled up the wolf and ate him for supper, and lived happy
ever afterwards. i

79
LITTLE BO-PEEP.

LITILE BO-PEEP.



[LITTLE Bo-Peep has lost
her sheep,
And can’t tell where to
find them,
Let them alone
and they'll
come home,
And bring their
tails behind

them.

’

Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,
And dreamt she heard oo

them bleating;


LITTLE BO-PEEP.



fling! i Bi ghia ae GH

Uns
ral
we)
oe
ae Say Rese
YY Az
CR > cf

VY f Lee l (f ce os
4 i fo i M% x a v Le “Ml c
OW [its Wh < wn AY & Mea W Uli a ihe

(
Y il it AN ~~ 4 wih
X NaN ‘ f AEN bi, ~S oo Via V/ ) : ny 4
= Lid Ne a yen ayy
wee \ , Jyytoo . Qe wf
g LEO OLE RO SS ae

But when she awoke, she found it a joke,
For still they all were fleeting,

81


LITTLE BO-PEL?P.

HER fe ify SS

HN Ms

‘a i rt
y iM; h



(ih S mes \ SS ee : al eae
( i) jy yh ,

4( (Nt a US, /

‘* THEN UP SHE TOOK HER LITTLE CROOK.”
82
LITTLE BO-PEEP.

he took

Then up s

ook,

le er

Her litt
Determined for

to find them:

Be

eft their tails

She found them indeed
l
hind them.

But it made her heart

d

For they
be



Z
co
ci
Sie
ot
me)
Eo
Ones
co
oOo v
ae
oO
Sea
Wn
——
eG
LITTLE BO-PEEP.

There she espied their tails, side by side,
All hung on a tree to dry,

She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye,
And over the hillocks did race—O !

And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should
To stitch each tail in its place—O!











of



Bla ae G4
OK P23 Td,
= a a4
Oo 7S eo Ah *
Ase y.
b &
or




‘bppt

Y,

aed Me
ON AA NGI
Si CHIT. ~





'

AY s
ads
{ \ We t

bhi. At pi
fv Hl



\ ‘yy bit AN UMA a\:
STAHL ar
ASS
SA va y iS "
ay

84
BREAULIV AND THE BEAST.



BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.



[N a large city of the East, there once lived a very rich

merchant. He had a splendid home, and large ware-
houses full of costly goods; and a hundred guests bowed
themselves before him, and sat down at his table every day.
As his wealth increased, so did the number of his friends;
and at last it was difficult to tell which was the greater,— the

85
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
wealth of the merchant, or the amount of praise and flattery
bestowed upon him.

The merchant's family consisted of three sons and three
daughters. The sons were tall, well-grown, young men, and
the daughters were all handsome, dark-eyed ladies. But, as
frequently happens, the chief gifts of loveliness and grace
had been bestowed upon the youngest of them all; and so
bright and happy was her face, and so winning were all her
ways, that, as a child she fad been called the ~ little
Beauty,” and the name still remained when she had become
a tall grown-up girl. |

Happy indeed was it for the merchant that he loved his
sons and daughters better than his wealth; for. he little
thought, as he sat at the head of his plentiful table, with his
smiling guests around him, that a terrible misfortune had
happened, and that he was, in fact, no better than a ruined
man. One of his largest ships, with a very costly cargo, was
miserably wrecked on the high seas, and only two. of the
sailors were saved, after clinging for days to the fragment of
a mast. Another equally valuable vessel was taken by pirates,
and a third fell into the hands of the enemy’s fleet. By land
he was equally unfortunate ; his largest warehouse was burnt,
and the Bedouins attacked and plundered a caravan convey-
ing his goods across the desert. So, within a few months, he
sank from the height of wealth and honor to the depths of
poverty and want. :

Very different from the splendid mansion they had inhab-
ited in the days of their prosperity, was the quiet country
house to which the merchant and his family removed when

the misfortunes he had met with by sea and land left him a
86
BEAUTY AND THR BEAST. ,

ruined and broken man. A\ll the accessories of wealth had
disappeared. There were no extensive pleasure grounds, no
fountains, groves of trees, or ornamental waters. The once
wealthy merchant, whose capital had furnished the means of
employing hundreds of servants, was now reduced to labor
with his sons in the cultivation of their little farm, for on its
produce they mainly depended for their means of subsistence.
Hard as their lot appeared, the three sons manfully met the
reverses of fortune which had befallen them, and both by
word and deed they did all in their power to reconcile all the
members of the family to their sudden change of position.

‘But with the daughters it was far different; and here was
seen the benefit and advantage derived from habits of indus-
try. The two elder sisters were always fretting about their
losses, and their discontent rendered every privation doubly
hard for themselves, and embittered the lot of the merchant
and his sons. They could not enjoy the plain fare the others
ate with so much relish. They rose late, and spent the day
in bewailing their hard lot; and it is a remarkable thing how
much people find to bemoan when once they set themselves
to complain. The two sisters would sit down, one with her
head in the other's lap, crying and sobbing; while Beauty,
the younger sister, would be fully employed spinning; and
always had a smile for her father when he came home wea-
ried from his work. You may depend upon it there is noth- °
ing like industry. i

Labor is the proper lot of man; and whether it be work
in the fields, or work in the counting-house, or in the study,
it will always bring pleasure to the workman, if it be but

well and zealously done.
37
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. :

The merchant and his sons worked hard, morning, noon,
and night; and they were so hungry every day when they came
home to dinner, that they ate their frugal meal with keen appe-
tites; and so tired were they when they came from labor at
night, that they slept soundly and peacefully till morning;
whereas, during the time of the merchant's prosperity, he
had often been kept awake at night by anxious thoughts for
the safety of his ships, his warehouses, and his stores of gold
and silver. This thought often entered the merchant's mind,
and a feeling of gratitude for the comforts he stil] possessed
brought him as near contentment as possible.

Humble as their present residence certainly was, a person
unacquainted with their history would never have imagined
that the contented-looking toilers on the small farm were
persons who had held a high position in society. But the
merchant was a man who had pursued a strictly honest and
honorable course in all his dealings; no stain had been cast
upon his character by his loss of fortune, and having nothing
upon his mind connected with the past to awaken regret or
remorse, he regarded his present position as one still capable
of affording happiness.

But a change came upon their quiet life. One day a
messenger came to the merchant's gate with a most import-
ant letter. It contained great news. A ship, long given up
as wrecked and lost, had safely anchored in a distant port;
and the merchant was desired to go and take possession
without losing a day.

You may fancy what a stir this made in the little house-
hold. The merchant's sons looked hopeful, and the two

sisters were radiant with smiles. They quite gave up their
88 :
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
cheerful practice of crying in each other's arms, and were full
of plans and projects for the future. Beauty was glad too:
but she smiled because she loved to see her father look happy.
The merchant was happy and pleased at the prospect of re-
gaining a portion of his wealth for his children’s sake; and





= ' a
= at
wy + age
WE LS ae D
Posy pi

Sa oo)
ai

oe



BEAUTY’S MODEST REQUEST.

he had a hundred projects for giving his daughters pleasure
by the pretty presents he should bring them on his return.
Before he started, he asked each of them in turn what
present he should bring her home with him when he had
received the money for his cargo. I am sorry to say that

8)
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

the two sisters had quite counted on being asked this ques-
tion, and were ready with a long list of the things they
wanted, chiefly fine dresses and jewels; and their requests
somewhat astonished the merchant, who promised, however,
that they should have what they wanted. Beauty had not
been thinking about herself all this while, and did not know
what to reply, as she had no wish for anything in particular;
so, in order not to disappoint her father’s kind intention, she
begged him to bring her a full-blown rose, as there were none
in their garden. ‘The elder sisters laughed in secret over
what they called her stupid choice; but they did not dare
to show their spite openly for fear of their brothers. So the
merchant rode off on a camel he had borrowed from a friend,
and the daughters stood at the door waving their handker-
chiefs and crying “good bye!” But it was Beauty who got
the last kiss. 7

The merchant's journey was not so prosperous as he had
hoped. The cargo, indeed, had been saved, and the ship was
safe in port; but a law suit had been commenced, and there
was so much to pay that the merchant set out for home not
much richer than he had left it. And it was on his return
that he met with the following tremendous adventure.

He was riding through a wood. Night had fallen, and
he had lost his way, though he fancied he could not be very
far from home. His weary camel still carried him gallantly
on, and he looked anxiously round for any building where he
could find shelter until the next morning; for the rain was
beating down upon him, the wolves howled in the dreary
darkness around, and the very trees seemed to take horrible

spectral forms, and make threatening gestures at him.
90
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

NY,




THE TREES TAKE FRIGHTFUL SHAPES.

All at once he saw a light gleaming through the trees.
It proved to be a lamp, hung at the entrance gate to what
seemed to be a park surrounding a palace. ‘“ WeELcomr,
wEARY TRavetrr!” was written up in Eastern characters
over the gate. The merchant rode through the gate, and
following the stately avenue which it opened upon, he found
his way to a large stable, with every convenience for fifty
animals, but quite empty. The merchant put up his camel,
and fed him; and then went to find some one in the palace

which he saw near at hand.
9]
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.













THE MERCHANT APPROACHES THE PALACE.

The doors were wide open, and he entered the vestibule,
which was very large, and had a basin with a fountain in the
middle; here he sat and washed his feet. “Then he went
through many large apartments, all splendidly furnished.
There was no one in them; not even a servant to take care
of the house. But there was a very handsome supper laid
out in one of the rooms; and the merchant sat down, and
after waiting for some time for the host to appear, made a
hearty meal, all alone by himself, and drank his own health
afterward.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

In the upper floor were several bed-rooms, with large beds
and handsome wardrobes. In one of these beds the mer-
chant went fast asleep, and never woke till half-past six the
next morning. He felt quite refreshed after his night's rest,
and walked out in the grounds about the palace, in hopes of
meeting the owner. Everything here was in first rate order.
The flower beds were full of beautiful plants, and the walks
clean and hard, and the grass plats soft and smooth as a
velvet carpet. In one bed stood a splendid rose tree in full
bloom. This set the merchant thinking of his daughter
Beauty's wish for a rose: and he selected a very fine one and
plucked it. But the moment after he had done so, he heard
a tremendous roar, and a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder.
He turned, and saw a monster with the body of a man and a
beasts head and claws. The creature stood in a threatening
attitude over him and cried: “ Ungrateful man !—how dare
you repay my kindness by stealing the only thing I prize,
my beautiful roses ?—-Now you shall die!’ The merchant, in
utter terror, begged hard for forgiveness, calling the Beast
“my lord,” and declaring that he meant no harm, but had
only plucked the rose for his youngest daughter, whom he
loved, and who had wished for one.

“Twill spare your life on one condition,” replied the Beast.
“You must go home, and bring your daughter here in your
stead. If she refuses to come, you must promise faithfully
to be back yourself within three months; and don't call me
‘my lord’ for I hate flattery, and I am not a lord but a
Beast! (which was true enough). So promise, or die! and
choose quickly !”

The merchant with a heavy heart, consented to the Beast’s

93
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
conditions, and turned sorrowfully away. “Go to the room
you slept in,’ cried the Beast after him, “you may fill a chest
you will find there with anything you like, and carry it away
with you.” :

The merchant accordingly filled the chest with gold pieces,
and sorrowfully departed. When he reached his own house,







« THE BEAST SURPRISES THE MERCHANT.

his daughters came crowding round to welcome him, and
were struck with the settled melancholy in his face. In
silence he gave the elder sisters the presents he had brought
for them, and then sat down disconsolately on the ground.

The two sisters sat examining their presents, but Beauty
O4
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
went to her father, and threw her arms around his neck to
comfort him. “Ah my dear Beauty, here is your rose,” said
the merchant, “but you little know the price your poor father
has promised to pay for it.” And he told her everything
just as it had occurred.

The ‘elder sisters came up to listen; and of course began
to throw all the blame on poor Boe, colt the atiected
little thing had only asked for presents like ours,” they de-

clared, “ thee would have been no such trouble as this, and
our father would not be in danger of his life.”

“He is not in danger now,” answered Beauty quietly, “for
I will go to the Beast and bear the punishment of death in
his stead.” The brothers offered to go, and begged hard:
but the merchant knew that the Bee would not Be put off
and that he would be satished with no one but Beauty, or
one of her sisters. He had also secret hopes that her life
would be spared; for the Beast’s generosity had made him
think that, after all, the monster would not like to sacrifice
the life of a young and innocent creature.

I regret to say that the sisters secretly exulted at Beauty’s
apparently sad fate; but the brothers were really and truly
grieved, and kissed their sister heartily before she set out with
her father on their sorrowful journey.

The domain around the Beast’s palace was exceedingly
beautiful. Birds with splendid plumage flew about, and sang
merry songs as they built their nests in the thick trees. In
spite of the sorrowful nature of their errand, the two travelers
could not help feeling a little comforted by the beauty of the
scene around them, and the nearer they came to the Beast's

palace, the fresher became the verdure, and the thicker the
95
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
throng of chirping birds, so that it seemed as if Nature were
showing its joy over some happy event.

In due time they reached the palace, which they found
- deserted, as on the merchant's first visit. But in the spacious
reception hall a magnificent supper was laid, with covers for
two persons. ‘They sat down to table, but Beauty could hardly
eat a bit for terror, while her father was overwhelmed with
grief, and sighed deeply at each mouthful he took. When
supper was over, a heavy tread was heard sounding along
the corridor; and the door of the room was roughly opened
and the Beast came stalking in. And, Oh! he was far—far
uglier than Beauty had imagined he could possibly be! She
turned pale at the sight of him as he turned toward her and
asked, “If she had come to him of her own free will.” She
faltered out—“ Yes, Beast,” and the monster observed: ina
softened tone—* Beauty, I am much obliged to you.”

This mild behavior on the part of the proprietor some-
what raised the hopes of the merchant, but they were instantly
damped by the Beast’s turning toward him, and eruffly com-
manding him to quit the palace, and never to return again
under pain of death. Having given this order in a tone which
showed that he intended to be obeyed, the Beast retired,
with a bow and a good-night to Beauty, and a glance at her
father which seemed to say—* Make haste off”

The merchant departed, after kissing his daughter a hun-
dred times, and weeping bitterly ; while she, poor girl, tried
to raise his spirits by feigning a courage she did not feel.
When he was gone, she took a candlestick and wandered
along the corridor in search of her room. She soon came

to a door on which was inscribed in large letters—* Brauty’s
96


BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

Arvartment. This proved to be a large room, elegantly fur-
nished with book-cases, sofas, and pictures; and a guitar and
other musical instruments hung against the wall. Beauty
retired to rest; and exhausted with her journey and her grief,
she quickly fell asleep.

_ Next morning she examined her apartment more closely.
On the first leaf of an album was written her own name:—
“ Beauty ;” and immediately beneath it stood, in letters of
gold, the following verse :—

‘“‘Beauteous lady—dry your tears,
Here’s no cause for sighs or fears:
Command as freely as you may,
Compliance still attends your way.”

“Ah!” thought the poor girl, “If I might have a wish
granted it would be to see how my poor father is.” She-
turned as she said it; and in a mirror opposite, to her great
surprise, she saw a picture of her home, as in a magic-lantern
view. The merchant was lying on a couch, distracted with
grief; and Beauty’s two sisters were at the window, one of
them sitting on a stool looking listlessly out, and the other
standing by assisting her. At this sad sight poor Beauty wept
bitterly, but after a time she regained her fortitude, and pro-
ceeded into the spacious dining room, where she found a
repast prepared for her ason the preceding day. ._The Beast,
too, came in, and asked permission to stay and see her eat.
Beauty replied “ Yes,” and all the while she was making her
repast the Beast sat by, looking at her with eyes of great ad-
miration. He soon began to talk, and astonished the young
lady by the extent of his information on various subjects. At
last he asked her suddenly “if she really thought him so

very, very ugly.”
97
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

Beauty was obliged to reply “yes, shockingly ugly!” but
added, “that he could not help his looks.” This reflection
did not seem to console the poor Beast much, for he sighed
deeply. After sitting for a little time in Slee, he arose to
go, and then, turning, he seemed to collect all his courage for
one grand effort, Bid asked Beauty —to that lady’s great
selon niente “If she would marry him.” She at once re-

plied, “ No, Beast!” in a very decided way; whereupon her
suitor gave a great sigh, and retired, looking very doleful.




ESE

P cers

Ab

a

pes h

(coun) [eli






GiR










































THE BEAST ASKS BEAUTY TO BE HIS WIFE.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

For some little time Beauty's life was a very quiet one.
She roamed about the palace, and through the gardens, just
as she pleased, and invisible attendants brought her what she
wanted. Every evening the Beast would come to supper,
and try to entertain her as best he might; and he was so well-
informed, and talked so sensibly, that Beauty began to like
him very much. Still his hideous form shocked her each
time she looked at him; and whenever her host, after exerting
himself to be agreeable all the evening, repeated his question,
“ Beauty will you marry me?” she always replied “ No, Beast.”

But soon Beauty began to be home-sick; the more so that
her glass, which she never failed to consult each day, showed
her that the merchant, her father, was pining for her very
much. His sons had gone to fight their country’s battles,
and his two eldest daughters had got married and were em-
ployed with their husbands in domestic quarrels; so you see
it was rather dull for the merchant. ‘Therefore Beauty begged
the Beast to let her go home and see her father. He was
rather alarmed at the proposal, deeming it not impossible
that she might forget to come back again; so he exacted a
promise from her that she would only stay away a week,
and thenreturn. “To-morrow morning,’ said the Beast, “you .
will find yourself at your father’s house. But pray—pray—
do not forget me in my loneliness, and do not fail to return
as you have promised.”

He then bade her a sorrowful farewell, and Beauty retired
to rest. When she awoke in the morning, she found herself
in her old bed at her fathers, By the bedside lay a large
chest of beautiful apparel and sets of jewels.

You may fancy how glad her father was to see her. But

99
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

the envious sisters, who were there on a visit, were not at all
pleased at her return. One of these ladies had a scratch on
her face, and the other, three large bruises on her arm; both
arising out of differences they had had with their husbands.
They at first declared that the box with the presents had been
intended by the Beast for them; whereupon the box at once
disappeared, as a gentle hint that they were mistaken.

On the failure of this selfish scheme, they resolved, as they
expressed it, “to serve out that conceited Beauty,” by making
her overstay her time; and they hoped the Beast might be
very angry and receive her accordingly. The days passed
happily away; and the sisters behaved with such hypocritical
kindness that Beauty was prevailed upon to stay, first one
week, and then two weeks, longer than she had intended.

But what was the Beast doing all this time? He was very
lonely in his palace, waiting vainly for the return of his beloved
Beauty; and every evening, at sunset, he would lie down on
the grass in his garden, thinking of her till his very head
ached with longing to see her again.

One evening, however, as she sat with her father at their
supper, a likeness of the Beast stood before her like a figure
inadream. He was very pale, and looked dreadfully thin
and dejected; his countenance, which was turned toward
Beauty, wore a look of reproach. This cut her to the heart,
and she at once told her father that she would return to the
Beast’s palace the next day.

She resisted his earnest efforts to persuade her to remain
longer, as well as the insincere .entreaties of her sisters, and
the next morning set out for the palace. Her father, of course,

went along to see her safely to the palace, and her sisters,
100 2
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
under pretence of not wishing to part with her till the last
moment, accompanied her too; their real motive being curi-
osity to see the Beast’s palace, now that there seemed to be
no reason to fear violence from him.

‘They reached the palace, but no Beast appeared to welcome
them. Beauty went in search of him, and at length, on reach-
ing a distant apartment, found him stretched out on a couch,
attended by an old physician, and, apparently dying. His

eyes were closed, and he did not seem even to breathe.























BEAUTY FINDS THE BEAST AT THE POINT OF DEATH.
101
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

Beauty had never known till now how fond she was of
the poor Beast, but when the prospect of losing him came
before her, she felt dreadfully grieved. She tried every means
to bring the Beast back to life, but for a long time her efforts
were fruitless. She knelt beside him, and called him by every
endearing name she could think of At length he opened
his eyes, and when he saw her, a gleam of joy shot over his
countenance, and he said in a feeble voice, “ Have you come
at last, Beauty? I have been waiting very long for you, and
despaired of ever seeing youagain. But now I have looked
on you once more, I can die in quiet.”

Beauty was fairly overcome by so much gentleness and
kindness. “No! no!” she cried, “dear Beast, you shall not
die. You have been very kind to me—much kinder than I
deserve—and you are so good that I do not care for your
looks; and indeed—indeed—I—I will be your wife !”

At that instant a great crash was heard, and sweet sounds
of music filled the air in every direction. For a moment or
two, Beauty stood bewildered with amazement at the sudden
burst of joyous melody with which the very walls of the pal-
ace seemed to vibrate, but a gentle and grateful pressure of
her hand recalled her to herself, and she beheld, with aston-
ishment, that the Beast had been transformed into a graceful
and handsome young prince, who was kneeling before her, and
gazing upon her with a look of mingled love and admiration.

Now, for the first time, Beauty began to understand the
deeper meaning in the Beast’s words, when he had asked her
if she would marry him. Now she could understand his wish
to have her in his palace; his care for her comfort; his evi-

dent desire to make himself agreeable and pleasing to her, so
102
BEAUTY AND THe vEAST.



















THE EVIL SPELL BRCKEN.

that she might forget the ugliness of his person in her respect
for him and her gratitude for his kindness; and lastly, she
could understand the Beast’s despair when ‘she talked of
leaving him, and his ardent desire for her return. All this
flashed suddenly upon Beauty, as she stood with the handsome
young prince gazing upon her. She could hardly recover
breath enough to falter out a question concerning the meaning

of all this.
i 103
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

The prince answered her with eyes beaming with gratitude
and affection. “It was enchantment, dear Beauty,” he cried.
“A wicked fairy had laid me under a spell, and transformed
me into the shape of a hideous Beast; to retain it until a
beautiful girl should consent, of her own free will, to marry
me. You have done so; your goodness of heart, and your
gratitude, made you overlook my defects of form and feature ;
and in consenting to become the Beast’s wife, you have restored
an unfortunate prince to his own shape, and to happiness.”

They were married in a few days. Of course the merchant
was present at the ceremony, as joyful at the good fortune
which had befallen his daughter as he had been sorrowful on
the dreary evening when he had left her alone in the power
of the Beast. ‘The sisters, too, were present, by invitation of
Beauty, for she was far too good and kind a girl to remember
how shabbily they had treated her, and she gave them the
best welcome she could, though they made themselves any-
thing but agreeable, I can assure you. It is a wonderful thing
that the more you do to please envious people, whether grown-
up or children, the less they will thank you for it. But it
does not follow that we should return good for evil, notwith-
standing ! |

The brave brothers came too, and danced with the prettiest
girls among the guests; and both looked and felt far happier
than they ever did in the brightest days of their father’s pros-
perity; for in their case adversity had proved only a lesson,
that true happiness does not consist in wealth alone. The
good fortune of their favorite sister was to them a greater
source of pleasure than if it had been their own case; but the

envious sisters, when they saw how splendid the palace was,
104
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

and how the handsome bridegroom doted upon his pride,

turned up their jealous noses in secret, and wondered more
than ever at what they were pleased to term “that Beauty's
luck!” ‘To the very last, they maintained that it was merely
chance that had favored their yourger sister: and in all the
trouble into which their violent tempers constantly led them,
they would bemoan their hard fate, and try to make out that
by right, they, as the elder sisters, should have had the brilliant
fate that had fallen to the lot of their sister, Beauty. We
know better to what Beauty owed her good fortune, my little
readers—do we not? We know that she earned her success
by her own good behavior, and that the sisters brought their
misfortunes on themselves solely by their extreme selfishness
and vanity.

And we are happy to be able to tell that our good Beauty
and her husband lived long afterwards, and that their days
were passed in bliss as nearly perfect as can fall to the lot of
mortals. The sterling virtue and good sense which Beauty
had shown under adverse fortune were not affected by pros-
perity ; and the kindness of heart, and excellence of judgment,
which had marked her conduct during her period of trial,
continued to be traits of her character to the end. Although
her new station was a very exalted one, she never allowed
herself to become puffed up with greatness, nor let selfish
enjoyments engross her attention, but always found her chief
pleasure in the performance of her duties, and in ministering
to the happiness of others.

105
THE THREE BEARS.





NCE upon a time, in a thick forest, there
lived three bears. One was a great
big father bear, with a big head, and
large paws, and a great voice.

‘The next was a mother bear, of mid-
dle-size, with a middle-sized head, and

a middle-sized body, and a voice quite

low for a bear.

The third bear was a funny little baby bear, with a strange
little head, a queer little body, wee bits of paws, and an odd
little voice, between a whine and a squeak.

Now these three bears had a nice home of their own, and
In it was everything that they needed. There was a great
big chair for the big bear to sit in, a large porridge-pot from
which he could eat his meals, and a great bed on which he
laid himself to sleep at night.



The middle-sized bear had a
middle-sized porridge-pot, and a
bed and a chair to match. The
wee little bear had a
cunning little chair 2
neat little bed, and a
porridge-pot that held
just enough to fill his
little stomach.



166
THE THREE BEARS.

There lived near
the home of these
bears a little child
named Goldilocks. She was a
ae pretty child, with bright yellow
re ; hair that shone and glittered in
gen the sun like gold, and that is
how she came to be called
Goldilocks. She was round
and plump, very merry and
light-hearted, and was always
running and jumping about.
When she laughed (and she was nearly always laughing),
her voice rang out with a clear silvery sound that was really

Sa





va
RS ene Left

pleasant to hear.

One day she ran off into the woods to gather flowers—for
she was fond of flowers, as all children ought to be. When
she got a good way into the wood, she pen to make pretty
wreaths and garlands of the wild roses and honey-suckles
and other flowers ; and very pretty they looked, I can assure
you, with their delicate pink bloom, and the bright dewdrops
hanging like diamonds upon them. At last the child came
to a place where there was a great wild rose bush, with
hundreds of blossoms hanging down, and smelling, oh! so
sweet in the morning air; and Goldilocks began plucking
these roses as fast as she could, and did not stop plucking
them till she had quite a lapful of flowers, and till her hands
were scratched with the thorns. But she did not mind the
smart of the thorns, and ran gayly on, singing as she went.

All at once she came to a queer sort of house, and she fell
107
LHE THREE BEARS,





We

Se Oo &









She peeped in first at one

er, but could see nobody.
ht she would knock at the door; but as the

knocker was beyond her reach, she had to break a twig from

it;

h

lived in

window and then at anot

108

to wondering who
Then she thoug
THE THREE BEARS.

a bush to raise it. She knocked once—twice—thrice. There
was no reply, so Goldilocks, after a while, pushed open the
door softly and timidly, and popped right into the bears’
house. But the bears were not at home. After they had
made the porridge for their breakfast, and poured it into their
porridge-pots, they walked out into the woods, while the por- |
ridge was cooling, that they might not burn their mouths by
beginning to eat it too soon.

Goldilocks was very much surprised when she came into
the bears’ room, to see a great porridge-pot, a middle-sized
porridge-pot, and a wee little porridge-pot standing in a row.

“Well,” thought she, “some of the people who live here
must eat a good deal more than the others. I’m just as hun-
gry as I can be, and I guess I'll eat some of the porridge in
this great big pot.” She took a taste, but the porridge was so
hot that she screamed, and made a spring that upset the pot,
and it rolled on to the floor.

Then she took some of the porridge from the middle-sized
pot; and you may be sure she took care to blow upon the
spoon before she put it into her mouth. But she need not
have been afraid. The porridge was quite cold and sticky ;
for so the middle-sized bear, who had rather odd notions of
her own, loved to take 1t. So Goldilocks pushed it from
her with disgust, wondering how any one could eat such cold
clammy stuff. :

There .now remained only the little porridge-pot; and
Goldilocks, as hungry as ever, tried that. It was just right.
‘The porridge was neither too hot nor too cold; and the dainty
little bear had added plenty of sugar and a little nutmeg, in-

stead of the pepper with which the big bear used to scorch
109 A :
THE THREE BEARS.
his rough throat, or the salt with which the middle-sized bear
spoiled her breakfast every day. So Goldilocks took one
spoonful, then a second, and then a third; and so she went on
until she found all the porridge gone, and stood with the empty









































































Sinn

Me
f

rt



































EATING UP THE LITTLE BEAR’S PORRIDGE.
110
THE THREE BEARS
vessel in her hand, wondering what clever person could pre-
pare himself such a nice meal.

All this time the bears were walking along arm-in-arm
through the wood, little thinking what a busy guest had come
to their home. ‘They marched gayly on, not fearing wind or
weather, until at last they thought it time to turn back and
think of breakfast.

In the meantime Goldilocks had been looking around for
a nice seat on which to sit down and finish eating the little
bear's porridge. She first came to the great big chair, but
that was much too hard.

She next tried the middle-sized chair, which didn’t suit any
better; it was much too soft.

“Oh dear me! what an uncomfortable chair!” she cried,
jumping out of it as quickly as possible.

Then she cast her eyes
round the room, and caught
sight of a cunning little








chair that looked as if it
had been made expressly
for some one about her own
size. So she sat
down in that, and
liked it so well,
she would have
sat much longer
than she did if
the chair hadn't “
gone to pieces

under her. She
lil




THE THREE BEARS.

was more scared than hurt when she
picked herself up and tried her best
to put the chair together again; but
it was of no use.

Presently Goldilocks began to feel
tired and sleepy, and looked around
to see if there was any room in which
she might lie down and rest. Sure
enough she found one, and in it were
three beds side by side. One was a
great big bed; the next a middle-sized
bed; and the third a wee little bed:
and they made her think of the three
porridge-pots standing in a row.

First she lay down on the great

big bed. There was plenty of room

init; but oh! it was as hard as a rock, and the pillow was
much too high. So she soon crawled out of that and went
and lay down on the middle-sized

bed. But, dear me! that was as
much too soft as the other was too

hard; and Goldilocks was buried
so deep in it that she had hard work

getting out again.
“Tf any one likes
that kind of a bed ;”
said she, “let them
sleep in it—the hor-
rid stuffy thing !”
And all the time

112





THE THREE BEARS.
she was growing so sleepy that she could hardly keep her
eyes open.

There was only the wee little bed left, and Goldilocks tried
that. It just suited her in every way—was the right height
—the right width—not too ae and not too tarde and aye
lay for a A aile wondering who owned such a nice comforta-
ble nest, and if they would be angry at finding her in it.





If she had had any idea that she was in a bear’s house how
terrified she would have been! But it never entered her head
and so she dropped off to sleep as sweetly as if in her own
bed at home, little thinking of the trouble that was brewing
for her.

After the bears had walked about in the woods for some
time, little bubby-cub began to grow tired, and cried to go
home. Mrs. Bruin couldn't bear to hear him cry, so she urged

Papa Bruin to take the cub in his arms and go a little faster,
118
THE THREE BEARS.
So the three bears came to their home all out of breath,
and as hungry as any bears you ever heard of. ‘The great
big bear entered the room ahead of the others, and when



























. ia 7 3 iy
\ ys Be



















444 RETURN OF THE THREE BEARS
THE THREE BEARS.

he saw his porridge-pot lying on the floor, he roared out in
his great rough, gruff voice:

“SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE!”











FROM THEIR MORNING WALK.
115
THE THREE BEARS.

And he swung his great big cane around as if it were a
club, and brought it down on the floor with a heavy thump,
and with oh! such fierce look in his eyes.

Then Mrs. Bruin went up to her own middle-sized_ por-
ridge-pot, and knew in a moment that some one had been
meddling with it. So she threw up her paws and cried out
in a voice not quite so loud as the great bear’s:

“SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE!”

And she looked puzzled and vexed, for she was particular
about her food, and didn’t want any one to touch it.

Then the little bear went to his porridge-pot in a great
flurry, and on finding it empty, cried out in a squeaking voice:
« Somebody has been at my porridge, and has eaten it all up!”

Then he stuffed his fore-paws into
his eyes, and cried as hard as he
could, for he thought it was
a mean trick to serve him,
just because he happened to
be such a tiny little bear.
His papa and mamma
were just as angry,
and vowed that they
would punish severe-
ly the one who had
played the trick, if
they could ever catch
him.

Presently the big
bear went to sit down
in his great big arm-










THE THREE BEARS.
chair, and found it was not as he had left
it. Goldilocks had neglected to put the
cushion back in its place, and there it was
all awry. So the great big bear growled
out:

“SOMEBODY HAS BEEN
SITTING IN MY CHAIR!”

The middle-sized bear
then went to her
chair zand found: 4
great hollow in i












where Goldilocks had sat down. So she scowled and
growled, though not so loudly as the big bear :
“SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!”

This put the little bear in a fidget, for he knew what to
expect:

“Tf this strange visitor,” he thought, “has done so much
harm to the other chairs, he has probably broken mine all to
pieces, for he seems to treat me worse than the rest, because
Lanw-so- little.

So up jumped the little bear, and saw at a glance what had
been done to the dear little chair of which he was so fond.

“ Somebody has been sitting in my chair, and has sat the bottom out of it!”

he squeaked with a doleful wail, and then sat plump down

on the floor to have ‘his cry out.
117
LHE TITREE BEARS.

















































Papa Bruin was in a great rage, and wondered who had
dared to come into his house without leave. He was deter-
mined to find out, and strode off into the bedroom, followed

by Mrs. Bruin and the unhappy Tiny Cub.

118
7H THREE BEARS.

Goldilocks had tumbled the big bear’s big bolster in trying
to make it low enough for her head. He noticed it at once,

and roared out:
“SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED!”

Then they went to the middle-sized bed, and that was full of

pil
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119
THE THREE BEARS.
humps and hollows, and looked
so untidy that the mother bear
scowled and growled—though
not so loudly as the big bear:

“SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING
IN My BED!”

Then they passed on to the
third bed. The coverlet was in
its place, the pillow was there,
and on the pillow lay the fair
head of little Goldilocks. And
she was sound asleep.

« Somebody has been lying in my bed—and here she is!”
shrieked the little bear in his
shrillest tones.

The big bear, the middle-sized
bear, and the little bear stood
with their mouths wide open,
staring with surprise at the
pretty child they found there.

The big bear had a tender
heart, and felt quite ashamed of
himself for having threatened to
punish the one who had dared
to enter his house.

Mrs. Bruin said: “ Poor child!
I'd like to give her a hug and a kiss, she looks so sweet and
good.” And she regretted having made such a fuss over the
porridge that had been touched, and the chair that had been
sat in.





120
THE THREE BEARS.

The little bear, however, was in great distress at the way
in which he had been treated, and relieved his feelings by
giving a most doleful whine.

Little Goldilocks had heard in her sleep the great rough
gruff voice of the big bear, but she was so fast asleep that
it was no more to her than the roaring of wind, or the rum-
bling of thunder. And she had heard the middle voice of the
middle-sized bear, but it was only as if she had heard some
one speaking in a dream. But when she heard the little,
squeaking whine of the little bear, it was so sharp, and so shrill,
that it awakened her at once.

Up she started, and when she saw the big bear, the mid-
dle-sized bear, and the little bear peering at her in a strange
way, she was scared nearly out of her wits. She understood
at last who owned the three porridge-pots, the three chairs,
and the three beds.

Now the window was open, because the bears, like good
tidy bears, as they were, always opened their bed-chamber
window when they got up in the morning, and with a

One, two, three, out goes she!
away went Goldilocks out through it, leaving a piece of her
dress in the paw of the great big bear, who tried his best to
catch her. .

She fell plump on the ground, and had to sit still a few
moments to find out where she was. But it seemed as if the
woods were full of bears, and so she kept on running as hard
as ever she could until she was well out of the forest, and in
sight of her own home

O what joy it was to be safe inside her own home! and

Goldilocks made up her mind never again to enter any one’s
121
THE THREE BEARS.



house without being invited, and never to make herself quite
so much at home as she did at the bears’ house.

The three bears stared for some time out of the window
from whence Goldilocks took her flight; and though at first
they were quite angry with the little girl, and ready to eat
her up, they soon got over these bad feelings, remembering
that it is wise to

: Bear anp Forpear.

And if you'll believe me, that little bear, who had made the
biggest fuss, was just as proud as he could be to think that
such a pretty girl had eaten his porridge—sat in his chair—
and slept in his bed! Why, he actually hugged himself with
delight! But as this feeling might not last long, I should
advise you not to pry into other people’s affairs: and if you
go in the woods keep away from the house of

THE THREE BEARS.


FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.

PRISKY, THE SOUIRREL.



(Ne day a wounded squirrel
Mae
Half dead upon the ground;
A hunter passing with his gun,
The little creature found.

Young Archie Gray, of Fawley
Hall,
Was also in the wood,
And begged that he might take it
home
To save it, if he could.

~ The hunter shook his head in doubt;
“Twas too far gone,” he said,
He fear’d that ere the morning came

The squirrel would be dead.
128

and skill will wonders
work
And I am glad to tell,
That very soon through Archie’s
care,

It grew quite strong and well.

But care

Ere long the merry little thing
Was sociable and tame,

And being very frolicsome,
“Frisky” became its name.

He’d spring and gambol round the
room,
Performing antics droll ;
Or climb, and gravely take his seat
Upon the curtain pole.
FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL

When, wearied out

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Then in his pocket
creep.

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oe warm and snug,
He'd put himself to bed;
His nose tuck’d in between his
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His tail wound round his head.












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124
FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.

Summer and Autumn pass’d away,
_ Frisky was six months old;
When suddenly a frost set in;
The air grew keen and cold.

The old folks, shiv’ring, drew their
chairs
_ Close to the warm fireside ;
The young ones hasten’d to the
ponds,
Rejoiced to skate and slide.

And many gather’d on the banks
The pleasant sight to see,

Of skaters gliding o’er the ice
So quick and merrily.

Now Archie thought that he should
like
To try and learn to skate,
Though quite aware that many falls
At first would be his fate.

He knew a pond near Carlton
wood,
About a mile from home;

And there he thought he'd go,
because
No other boys would come.

His mother warn’d him to be sure
And leave before ’twas dark;

And not to take the public road,
But go across the park.

Protected well against the cold,
Young Archie walk’d away ;

Whilst in the pocket of his coat
The little squirrel lay.

As soon as Archie tried his skates,
He got a desperate fall—

A fate awaiting ev’ry one
Who cannot skate at all,











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FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.
Poor Frisky getting bump’d and
thump’d,
Squeak’d out with fright and
pain,
And Archie thought it would
not do
To serve him thus again.















50 slipping off his over-coat,
In which the squirrel lay,
He placed it gently on the

ground,
Supposing he would stay.




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126
TERE SIGV a. TLE SO OLR RET
Frisky, more frighten’d far than hurt He search’d about, but not a trace

Lay curl’d up like a bail,
Indulging in a fit of sulks,
Because he’d had a fall.

Then Archie hasten’d back to skate,

And in his heart was glad,
No one was standing by to see
The tumbles that he had.

But as he wisely persever'd,
He grew expert at last ;
And ’twas with much regret he
found
His time of leave was passed.

To fetch the squirrel and his coat
Was now the boy’s first care;
Imagine then his great dismay
To find he was not there!



Of Frisky could he see;
Except some nut-shells he had left
Beneath a neighb’ring tree.

At home, he always used to come
In answer to his name;
But now, though Archie loudly
call’d,
No little Frisky came.

Yet all this time upon a gate
Which led within the wood,
Scarcely a stone’s throw from the
pond,
A little figure stood.

‘Twas Frisky, brandishing his tail
And looking round with glee ;
Most likely thinking to himself,
‘ How sweet is liberty!”

But suddenly whilst here he sat,
He caught his master’s eyes;

Who, shouting joyfully, ran off,
Hoping to seize his prize.

‘No, no,” thought Frisky, ‘free
fs I am,
And free I mean to be!” —
So, just as Archie reach’d the
gate,
He sprang upon a tree.

Over the gate with lightning
speed
His eager master flew,
No farther could he follow him,
The cunning squirrel knew.
FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.

So, climbing to an upper branch,
He sat there quite at ease,

Seeming as if he thought it fun
His master thus to tease.








For as poor Archie stood below,
In very mournful case,
The rogue threw down some with-
er'd leaves
Upon his upturn’d face |













































































128
FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.
And then from tree to tree he sprang Fill’d with alarm, the boy began

Thinking it famous fun Most bitterly to cry;
To keep his master going too He dreaded lest perhaps with cold
As fast as he could run. And hunger he should die.

Two long hours pass’d, yet there
he was,
Still toiling to and fro ;
As far as ever from the point
To which he ought to go.

The wood was getting very dark,
For now ’twas nearly night;
No longer could poor Archie keep

The squirrel in his sight.

His teeth were chatt’ring with the
cold,
His fingers numb’d by frost;






His heart was sad and sorrowful, = 4
: He felt all hope was over And dreadful stories fill’d his mind
Frisky, too charm’d with liberty, Of people who'd been lost.
Would come again no more!
At length he sunk upon the ground

Another trouble now arose, Completely wearied out ;
He found he'd lost his way ; His limbs felt stiff, his strength was
And fear’d that in the lonely wood gone

He all night long must stay. From wandering about.
129
FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.

How thankfully he call’d to
mind
That God could hear a prayer,
Offer’d from church, or house or
wood—
For God is ev’rywhere.

“ye He knelt with boyish confi-
oe dence,
Protection to implore;
And when he rose, no longer
felt :
As lonely as before.



Then through the op’ning I have

Now very soon the moon arose, nam’d
With soft and silv’ry light; Within the tree he crept,
And full of comfort to the boy And soon upon his leafy bed
Was such a cheering sight, He comfortably slept.

He found that close beside him At home, his absence after dark
stood Had caused intense alarm,
A large old hollow tree; Lest some occurrence unforseen,
And thought that if he crept inside, Had brought the boy to harm.
Much warmer he would be.

Some of the bark had crumbled
off,
Leaving an opening wide;
And, putting in his hand, he
found
A heap of leaves inside.

These, being very soft and dry,
Would serve him for a bed;
But Archie would not go to rest

Before his prayers were said,
120


















ARCHIE’S FATHER FINDS HIM IN THE HOLLOW TREE.
FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.

And anxiously they sallied forth,
And sought him all around;
But long in vain—no trace of him

Could anywhere be found.

At length his father, in the Search,

_ The hollow tree espied ;

He held his lantern to the hole,
And threw its light inside.

A joyful sight it must have been
His truant boy to see,
Unhurt and safe, and slumb’ring
sound,
Within the shelt’ring tree.

“Archie, my lad!” the father cried,
‘You've found a cosy place
In which to sleep, whilst giving
me
A very anxious chase!



“Wake up! wake up! and let us
haste
To calm your mother’s fear ;
And tell me, as we walk along,
What can have brought you
here |e

Archie arous’d, was quite perplex’d
To think where he could be;

He wonder’d much to find himself
Inside a hollow tree!

But as his memory recall’d
All that had lately pass’d
Thankful, indeed, was he to know
That help had come at last.

"Tis scarcely needful here to tell
How great his mother’s joy,
When safe and sound within her

arms
She found her missing boy.

Welcome to Archie’s dazzled eyes
The cheerful room and light,
And not less welcome
we suspect,

His supper was _ to-
night.

But more than ever now
he miss’d
His merry little pet ;
EHe-thomght. of” allvhis
winning ways
And antics with regret
FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.

They both had livd so] _.-____—_
happily |
Companions day by day ;
He felt as though a friend he
lov’'d
Were taken quite away.

















All of a sudden Archie starts,
Then gives a joyous shout;
No wonder ! From his coat
behold,
The squirrel has sprung out!

(if

SN




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183
FRISKY, THE SQUIRREL.

Yes! there he’d been, he never
thought
Of running quite away ;
Though he had teased his master
thus,
It all had been in play.

High on a branch he kept a watch
On Archie down below
And saw him when the moon
appear’d
Within the old tree go.

All fun was over now; he knew
"Twas time to be in bed ;

And found it very cold to sit
‘Upon a bough instead.

At length he thought he’d scram-
ble down |
Within the tree to peep;
Where, as the reader is aware,
Archie was fast asleep.

At once the cunning fellow saw
The best thing he could do,
Would be to creep within the

hole,
And go to sleep there too!





He mov’d so very noiselessly,
No sound had Archie heard;
Though Frisky slid inside his
coat,
He neither woke nor stirr’d.

124

So all this time, whilst he suppos’d
His little pet had fled,

There he was lying, warm and snug
Within his usual bed.

And now he made him understand
By signs which Archie knew,

That, having fasted like himself,
He wanted supper too.

He stretch’d his limbs, and washed
his face,
As soon as he’d been fed,
Then he and Archie, both tired out,
Were glad to go to bed.

‘Tis said, as Frisky older grew,
He learned to mend his ways,

And never after this event
Play’d truant all his days.







Zz



WAN
ROBINSON CRUSOE.



ROBINSON CRUSOE.



ROBINSON CRUSOE was the youngest son of his
parents. His eldest brother had been killed in battle
and the second had gone away and no one ever knew what
became of him; only Robinson remained to comfort the old
age of his Per and mother. His father was a man of
some wealth, able to give his son a good home, and to send
him to school. It was his wish that his son should become
a lawyer, but the boy's head began very early to be filled with
thoughts of travel, and foe would satisfy him but to go
to sea. His father gave him wise and earnest counsel against

185
ROBINSON CRUSOE.

it, and for a time his advice prevailed; but in the end the
boy’s desire to roam led him to set his father's wishes at
naught. One day, being at Hull, a seaport town of England,
he met a school-fellow who was about to sail for London in
his father’s ship, and was prompted by him to go with him.
In an evil hour he yielded, and without asking God's blessing _
or his father’s, he went on board.

On the way to London a storm arose, the ship was wrecked,
and those upon her barely escaped with their lives. Robinson
Crusoe went on foot to London, and there made the acquaint-
ance of the master of a vessel which traded to the coast of
- Africa. This man took a fancy to him, and offered him a
chance to go with him upon one of his voyages, and the offer
was gladly accepted by Robinson Crusoe.

His first voyage with his new friend was very successful ;
but on the second, the ship was attacked and captured by
Moorish pirates, and all on board were taken and sold as
slaves. But Robinson Crusoe managed, after a while, to cs-
cape in a fishing boat; and being picked up by a vessel sail-
ing for Brazil, he went to that country and settled upon a
plantation.

He prospered fairly well, but being offered a tempting
chance to go upon another voyage to Africa, his love of
roving again prevailed, and he set sail once more, just eight
years from the time he had first left Hull.

One day, when they had been out about two weeks, a great
storm came up, and the ship was tossed about for many days,
until they did not know where they were. Suddenly they
struck a bank of sand, and the sea broke over the ship in

such a way that it could not be hoped that she would hold
136
ROBINSON CRUSOE.

many moments without breaking into pieces. In this distress
a boat was launched. After they had been driven four or five
miles, a raging wave struck the boat so furiously that it was
upset. Though Robinson Crusoe swam well, the waves were
so strong that he was dashed against a rock with such force
that it left him senseless. But he recovered before the waves
returned, and running forward, got to dry land in safety.
Then he began to look about to see if any of his comrades
had escaped, but he could see no sign of any of them.
Night coming on, he climbed into a thick, bushy tree to
sleep, not knowing but that there might be ravenous beasts
there. When he awoke next morning, the sea was calm, and.
he could see the ship about a mile from the shore ; and when
the tide ebbed, he swam out to her. He found that all the
provisions were dry, and being very hungry, filled his pock- ’
ets with biscuit, and ate as he went about other things; for
he saw that he must lose no time in getting ashore all that
he could from the ship. First, he threw overboard several
spare yards and spars. Then he went down the ship’s side
and tied them together, and laying a few short pieces of plank
upon them, he had a raft strong enough to bear a moderate
weight. Next he lowered upon it three seamen’s chests, and
filled them with provisions. After along search he found the
carpenter's chest, which was a great prize to him. He lowered
it upon the raft, and then secured a supply of guns and
gunpowder. With this cargo he started for the shore, and,
with a great deal of trouble, succeeded in landing 1t safe.
His next work was to view the country, and seek a proper
place to stow his goods. He knew not yet where he was,

whether on a continent or an island. Seeing a hill not over
187
ROBINSON CRUSOE.

a mile away, very steep and high, he climbed to the top of it,
and discovered that he was on an island, barren, and probably
uninhabited, except by wild animals.

When Robinson Crusoe realized the lonely, desperate situ-
ation that he was in, his heart sank, and he almost wished
that he had perished with the others. But soon perceiving
the ingratitude of this state of mind, he fell upon his knees to
thank God for saving his life,—his alone among so many,—
and a feeling of confidence arose in his breast that He would
still protect him in the midst of the perils by which he was
surrounded.

Every day for twelve days, he made a trip to the vessel,
bringing ashore all that he thought would be useful to him,
The night of the twelfth day there was a violent wind, and
_ when he awoke in the morning the ship was nowhere to be
seen. ,

He then gave his thoughts to providing himself with a
sate dwelling-place. Although he had hardly ever handled
tools before in his life, his needs now forced him to discover
their use. He set himself at work to build a hut, or cabin, out
of the timbers he had saved from the wreck. It was a task
that took a long time, but at last, by effort and contrivance, it
was finished, and he had a fairly comfortable house, which
he called his castle.

After 1t was completed, he applied himself to making other
things that would add to his comfort. First, he made a chair
and a table, with an immense amount of labor, for each board °
that he used had to be formed from the trunk of a tree, being
hewed flat on two sides until it was thin enough. To provide

himself with clothes, he saved the skins of all the creatures
138
ROBINSON CRUSOE.



BUILDING A HABITATION.

he shot, and dried them, and made garments for himself out
of them. In addition, at the cost of a great deal of time and
trouble, he made, also of skins, an umbrella, which he needed
greatly to keep off both sun and rain.

He had found upon the ship two cats anda dog. The cats
he carried ashore on the raft, while as for the dog, he swam
ashore himself, and was a trusty servant to Robinson Crusoe
for many years. Besides the company of these pets, he had

that of a parrot which he caught and taught to speak, and its
139
ROBINSON CRUSOE.
chatter served to while away many hours that would other-
wise have been dreary.

He went out every day with his gun to hunt for food. He
found that there were goats running wild on the island, and
he often succeeded in shooting some of them. But he saw
that his powder and shot would, in time, all be gone, and
that to have a steady supply. of goat’s flesh, he must breed
them in flocks. So he seta trap to take some alive, and
succeeded in catching several. He enclosed a piece of ground
for them to run in; and in course of time had a large flock

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ROBINSON CRUSOE.

Having use, one day, for a bag that had once held corn
and had some dust at the bottom, he shook it out near his
castle. It happened that there were a few grains of corn in
it, and about a month afterwards he saw, at the same place,
some green stalks growing up, which, on examining, he found
to be fresh shoots of corn. Then the thought came to him,
that by saving the grain for seed, he might, in time, be able
to grow crops, and supply himself with bread. He tried this,
and succeeded in the end; although it was four years before
he raised enough to be able to spare any to eat.

For a long time he had been brooding over the idea of
making a canoe out of the trunk of a tree, as the Indians do;
and at last he set to work at the task. He cut down a large
tree, and spent over three months shaping it with an axe into
the form of a boat. But his labor was all thrown away, for
when the boat was finished he found that it was too large to
move to the water. He afterwards made a smaller one, and
succecded in launching it, and set out to make a tour round
the island in it. But when he had been out for three days,
such a storm arose that he was near being lost. At last he
was able to bring his boat to the shore, in a little cove: and
there he left it, and went across the island on foot to his
castle, not caring to go to sea again in such an unsafe vessel.

Years and years passed thus away. Although he had, to
some extent, become contented with his solitary lot; yet at
times a terrible sense of loneliness and desolation would come
over him. Many times would he go to the top of a hill where
he could look out to sea in hopes of catching sight of a ship.
Sometimes he would fancy that, at a vast distance, he spied

a sail. He would please himself with hopes of it, but after
141
ROBINSON CRUSOE.









eS a - E
fl '
Ae
;
WG else 0
——"| 5 —

=

ry th =
2 LE Med ts

Saf? LAG
Wye hy $l 4



team Wi yah



‘





WW, swt Wy
SAW / Zoe yr 4 cat YR RM Le,
WE «0. Ne

at, . te
BY S y

THE FOOT-PRINTS IN THE SAND.

looking at it steadily, till he was almost blind, would lose it
quite. ‘Then in an agony of misery and despair he would
sit down and weep and sob like a child. |

But one day he saw a sight which, while it gave him cause
for alarm, served to turn his thoughts in a new channel. It
was the print of a naked foot upon the sand near the shore.
It filled him with a new fear, for it showed that the island must
sometimes be visited by savages. :

One morning, going out quite early, he could see the light
142
7 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

of a fire about two miles away. He stole up under the cover
of trees and bushes until he was near enough to observe what
was going on. He saw that five canoes were drawn up on
the shore, while a swarm of naked savages were dancing about
a fire. Presently they dragged two poor wretches from the
boats. One of them was knocked down at once, and several
of the savages set to work to cut him up. They were evidently
cannibals, that is, people who eat men, and were going to
hold one of their horrible feasts on their captives. The other
captive was left standing for a moment, and seeing a chance
to escape, started to run. Robinson Crusoe was greatly
alarmed when he saw that the runaway was coming directly
toward himself, but when he saw that only two pursued, and
that the runaway gained upon them, he made up his mind to
help him. When they were near enough, Robinson Crusoe
stepped in between the runaway and his pursuers, and ad-
vancing on the foremost of the latter, knocked him down
with the stock of his gun. The other raised his bow and
was going to shoot, when Robinson Crusoe fired at him and
killed him. Then he made signs to the runaway to come
to him, and the poor creature did so in fear and trembling,
kneeling at Crusoe's feet as a sign that he was his slave.
Crusoe took him home to his castle and gave him something
to eat. He was a handsome, well-shaped fellow, with good
features and a pleasant smile. His skin was not black, but
tawny, and he had very bright, sparkling eyes.

Robinson Crusoe had now a companion, and in a short
time he began to teach him to speak English. First he let
him know that his name was to be Friday, for that was the

day on which his life had been saved. Then he taught him
143
ROBINSON CRUSOE.
everything that he thought would make him useful, handy,
and helpful. He clothed him in a suit made of goatskins,
and the poor fellow seemed to be greatly pleased to be dressed
like his master.

One day Robinson Crusoe took him with him when he
went hunting, and was much amused at the way his gun
mystified him. He first shot a bird. Friday did not see it
fall, and was greatly frightened by the noise of the gun, but
when Robinson Crusoe: pointed to the bird, and made signs
for him to pick it up, he was filled with wonder and amaze-

ih) i

die. 4





j “the OS
: BS
ey,” bee
wy, * “4 ~S ag Aa 4S
Ma NS il Ys oe SON wi Y ge,

a i 4 LYS
Mi wy Ss Salee gare Ch af
vo hy = i : Lo was ean ba
fe “be Yr, SVE ] hy, * oS ” I Pali
rag
WATCHING THE SAVAGES.
144
ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ment. It was a long time before he could understand the
nature of fire-arms, or overcome his fear of the gun, which
he seemed to think was endowed with life, and which he used
to address very beseechingly in his own language, begging
it not to kill him. © |

After he had learned enough English to be able to talk
freely, he told Robinson Crusoe of a party of shipwrecked
Spanish sailors, who had been cast ashore on the mainland,
and had been befriended by the savages of his tribe. A great
desire to see them seized Crusoe; and he set about making,
with Friday's assistance, a boat large enough to carry both
over.

But one morning, before they had got on very far with the
task, Friday came running in a state of great fright, to tell
that three canoes, full of savages, had landed on the island.
Robinson Crusoe armed himself with a sword and a hatchet,
and taking all the guns they could carry, he and Friday went
to a thicket of trees which stood near where the savages
were. From there they could see them sitting about fires
they had made, eating the flesh of one victim, while another
captive, a white man, lay bound near by.

Perceiving that there was no time to lose if they would
save the captive, Robinson Crusoe took one gun and Friday
another, and both fired into the crowd together. They killed
and wounded several, and the rest were thrown into the great-
est confusion. They continued firing until they had emptied
their guns. Then they rushed forward, and, Friday using the
hatchet and Crusoe the sword, they killed all the remaining
savages, except four who succeeded in reaching their canoes.
Bidding Friday release the captive, Robinson Crusoe ran to

145
ROBINSON CRUSOE.





Sw
walls a RSS
AS Se (tn,

ry 3
Mt Wl ge iihvertg



wore,

a yl Ba fe
Bee x) MWe)
- ’ cua’ Ways 6

oe wt oe MG Ig Oo Sy CIN 8
Ma oS gage + MM My 4 Dy
by St vf Yogi 5a Ade cay SS,
‘ Vy A bY A Sa
BAVA We = iby ay oe AY ig
We ge es aes

FRIDAY’S GRATITUDE.




ay
~

another of the canoes, intending to pursue the savages to sea,
but in the canoe he was surprised to find another poor crea-
ture bound hand and foot. He cat him free, and helped
him to rise, for he could hardly stand. Friday coming up,
2obinsen Crusoe bid him speak to the man, and tell him he
vas saved. When Friday heard him answer, he first looked
ct him with astonishment, then embraced and kissed him, and
cred, laughed, jumped about, and sung, like one that was

mad. . 1b was some dime before he could tell what was the
146

ad
ROBINSON CRUSOE.
matter, but when he came a little to himself he said that the
captive was his father.

The two rescued men were then taken to the castle; and
after they had been refreshed by food and rest, Robinson
Crusoe entered into conversation with the white man and
learned that he was one of the Spaniards of whom Friday
had told him. It was proposed that he and Friday’s father
should return to the mainland in the new boat, as soon as it
was completed, and bring the rest of his countrymen to Cru-
soe’s island to live. This was readily agreed to, and all set
to work to finish the boat. The task consumed a great deal
of time, but finally everything was ready and they set sail.

One morning, a short time after, Friday brought word to
Crusoe that a ship was in sight. This was news so welcome
to Crusoe that he fairly danced with joy, but presently the
prudent thought occurred to him that it might be well not
to Tet those aboard see him, until he could learn something
about their business there. So he watched in concealment,
and in a short time saw a boat leave the ship and make for
the shore.

Eleven men landed, and Crusoe saw that while most of
them dispersed about the island, three kept by themselves
and appeared to be much dejected. When the others were
out of hearing, Crusoe approached these three and ques-
tioned them, and found that they were English, that one was
the captain of the ship, and that the others were the mate
and a passenger, that there had been a mutiny on board, and
that the men, as a favor, instead of killing them, were going
to leave them on the island. 3

Crusoe offered to aid them to recover the ship, and going
147
ROBINSON CRUSOE. |
back to the castle, brought guns and gave them to them.
Then they waited for the men who were scattered about the
island to return, and when they came, shot two who the cap-
tain said were the leaders: and the rest, taken by surprise,
yielded without further struggle. The captain made them
swear that they would obey him faithfully, and then returned
with them to the ship. ~lhose.on ‘board were equally sur-
prised at the turn affairs had taken, and when one of the
worst was killed, were glad to return to their duty. Then










f}
‘a8 |
: at ' ow
xe. Ts 2 4
AA : Mf
by A 2d
) Hero

Neha Ve
fn Mg We oo.
Honig



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Sones
SNNe A Ke
BN, ad f
Whe Aw

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7) peers

Mss
ROBINSON CRUSOE.

the captain came back to the island, and told Robinson
Crusoe that the ship and all that he had was at his service, in
return for what he had done for him.. Crusoe told him that
he asked nothing more than that he should carry Friday
and himself to England, and this the captain gladly agreed to
do. He provided him with clothing from his own wardrobe,
and Robinson Crusoe took aboard with him, in addition to
some gold that he had saved from the wreck, only his goat-
skin coat and cap and his umbrella, which he wished to keep
for relics. Every thing else on the island he left for the
Spaniards when they should return from the mainland, and
he wrote out for their benefit a full account of his way of
living, and all his plans and contrivances. He also induced
the captain to leave a supply of tools that he knew would be
useful to them, and an assortment of seeds of various kinds.
Then they set sail, and Robinson Crusoe left the island,
twenty-cight years, two months, and nineteen days after he
had landed upon tt.

Three days after setting sail, as they passed near the coast
of an island, they saw close to the shore a great fleet of ca-
noes, full of savages armed with bows and arrows. They
were going through strange evolutions, and Friday said that
they were probably starting on a hostile excursion against
some other tribe. When they caught sight of the ship, and
saw that those on board were watching them, they came
vaddling toward it, and soon were swarming about on all
sides, uttering curious cries, and making uncouth gestures.
Those on the ship were very much puzzled to know what
their intentions could be, and finally Robinson Crusoe told

Friday to go on the upper deck and speak to them in his
149
ROBINSON CRUSOE.

GEN
NG ZgNN AW

We « o vy

NY

Sy,

= Wt sy,
vila



A SHIP IN SIGHT.

own language, which he hoped they might be able to under-
stand. Friday did as he was bid, but had spoken only a few
words when the savages let fly a great cloud of arrows at
him. So poor was their aim that only three of the arrows
struck him, but one of the three, alas, pierced him through
the heart and he fell dead. ees

When Robinson Crusoe saw this he became almost frantic
with rage, and ordered the ship’s guns to be loaded with grape-
shot and fired into the fleet. The effect was tremendous.

More than half of the canoes were destroyed, and the sea
150 i
ROBINSON CRUSOE.

fora time was covered with the wretched savages, struggling
to swim, and uttering the most frightful howls. The fortu-
nate ones in those of the canoes that had not been hit did
not wait to help their comrades, but speeded off as fast as
they could paddle. One by one the others sank, and in a
short time the sea was as clear of them as if they had never
been there.

Thus a terrible vengeance was taken for Friday's death,
but his master felt little consoled for it thereby. The poor
fellow was so honest, faithful, and affectionate, and had ways
so cheerful and pleasant, that Robinson Crusoe had grown to
be most sincerely attached to him, and he now mourned him
as if he had been a son. He caused his body to be buried
in the sea with all the honors possible, and it seemed to him
as if the delight of being restored to his old home was hardly
compensation for the loss of one who had become so dear a
companion. |

The voyage homeward was continued; and no further
mishap occurring, Robinson Crusoe arrived safe in England
after his many years of absence. He found that his father
and mother were dead, as well as many of his old friends,
and for a time he felt almost as lonely as on his island. But
he married a worthy wife before long, and buying a farm with
the gold he had brought home, settled down to a quiet coun-
try life. He was blest with children who grew up to be his
delight and comfort, and his old age was spent in peace and

happiness.
151
LHE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.

THE PIVE WITELE: Pigs.



THE PIG THAT WENT TO MARKET.

Q)NCE there was a family of five pigs that
lived in a nice little house at the foot of a
steep hill) They had been well brought up,
and were so neat in their ways that they were
held up as patterns for all the other pigs in
the place. :

The eldest of these pigs was so much larger
than the others that he went by the name of
Big Pig. He took the lead in everything,
\ = and whenever he spoke the test had to toe
the mark. They were all very proud of him,
I can tell you.

Big Pig was so much shrewder than the others that the
important business of going to market to sell the vegetables
raised by the family was intrusted entirely to him. He used
to drive to town in a nice little cart drawn by a donkey, and
a neater turn-out was not to be seen on the road.

One day Big Pig went to market drest in fine style. He
met a great many friends, and while talking with them forgot
all about the donkey, which trotted off home, dropping all
the vegetables along the road. When the four pigs saw the
donkey and the empty cart, they felt sure that Big Pig had
been killed, and they all got into the cart and drove back to
find him. They met him on the way, and he had a label on

152


THts FIVE LITTLE PIGS.







Ki
INGA

SI St i (Ns

Sh

The



BIG PIG GOING TO MARKET.
THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.

















AT THE MARKET.

his back on which were the words PRIZE PIG; and when
he told his brothers what had happened, they said it was not
worth while to grieve over the loss of the vegetables. It was
not his fault; and they showed by their actions that they
were prouder of him than ever.

154.
THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.
THE PIG THAT STAID AT HOME.

‘Tuis little pig would have liked
to go to market with his eldest
brother now and then, but there
never wasany chance. There was
a great deal of work to be done
in the house, and this pig had to
do it. He swept the rooms, made
the beds, cooked all the meals, and
waited on the table as nicely as
anybody. He was as neat as wax,
and said there was no excuse for
any one’s house looking like a pig-
pen. He was fond of plants, and
kept many fine ones in the house and in the garden, and every
now and then would send a nice nosegay to a sick friend.

One day the home Pig sat in the easy
chair reading the news when he heard a
strange noise at the front door. Some one
was trying to get in! Home Pig peeped
through the blinds, and saw it was a great
black bear, but was not
afraid, for all the doors
were locked. When the
bear found it could not get
in, it went away growling,
and the pig was glad and
/ said it was never safe to
leave a house alone. There
were always bare-faced



ere 2
Saket Ke if ate
nes ae rece
(

aE












>. Me
4

co re
ue ay on
: Xe as


LHE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.

{i} /) an
if ley L/f if
GN UY,

ff I i ih

| /| ! Iii) d i

iS it

ih [
| \ 1 A “
a li

i ATT i

————

ea eT]
/ is ye es ty Z A (

Cael | cl
hy Ye Uae
Hf @ Ree q








oe





/
i

fie
Ho Ta
Hy bh AT
















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































LAY
NN
QQ
cee a = me ee,
oes he eh op =f
_ Sx we = yh

THE HOME PIG.
THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.
thieves about, on the watch for a chance to
steal something.

Not long after this, the pig that staid at
home gave a tea-party, to which all the friends
far and near were invited. There was every-
thing nice to eat, and music besides. One
of the guests spoke a piece, and this little pig
sang “ Home! sweet Home!” so beautifully
that many were moved to tears. Then they
looked at their watches and said, “ Dear!
me! I did not think it was so late!” and the
pig that staid at home bade them all « good night” at the
door, after they had all thanked him for the delightful eve-
ning they had spent.



PAE ORIG REA EA DSeROAST. BEBE.

Tins little pig was a good-natured fellow. He never made
any trouble for any one, but was always ready to help when-
ever there was a chance. He ran errands, picked up chips,
scoured the knives, and did whatever he was told. He could
fill the tea-kettle without spilling a drop on his toes or on the
floor ; and was the best kind of a nurse when there was sick-
ness in the house. He tried so hard to please everybody
that everybody tried hard to please him, and that is why he
had more than his share of roast beef Some folks like pork
and veal; others like lamb and mutton: but this little pig
thought there was no meat like roast beef; and a nice juicy
slice was his reward for being extra good.

One day, when Big Pig had gone to market, and the Home
Pig was taking a nap, the Roast Beef Pig smelt something

157
THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.

burning. He looked in the oven,
up stairs, and down cellar, but
found nothing. Then he listened.
The chimney was on fire! What
should he do? The house might
burn down!

He thought of something which
he had been told was the right
thing to do in such an emergency
as this, so he ran and got some
, salt and threw it into the chim-
ney, and then climbed out on the roof with a bucket of water
| by that time the fire was out.

Bip Pig had been on his way home while the nae
was burning, and had been alarmed to see the smoke, and
when he came home he heard the story, and you may be
sure that this little pig had all the roast beef he wanted for
some time to come.










THE FIVE LitTLleE PIGS.













ant

tt
~OS ®\ , ®

(COs
NCO:















































































































































































oe.



















































THE PIG THAT HAD ROAST BEEF.




















































THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.

Ce eS
if a3 Ne
\ bap S gen

ia CY
© pe Boy

gd

















\ Wyo ¥ w7-
“ t Dy chi XG var J : si bo
“Me! J seca Fo aed SSO an
Che Pwrytigas Sy, Lees facta SN gle CF
fr osa pita ee ae Ng on AUIS WEG aa
XA, Ase Of" #284, WIL ONG
to dae N. Qe MU 4 ‘ ee Ws a x
tortalecd ~ ° 4G Sie

CE

A MALICIOUS TRICK.
160
THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.

THE PIG THAT HAD NONE.

Tuas little pig was very, very naughty.
It was really hard work to get along with
him. He would not do as he was told,
and that is why he got none of the good
things that were going. He did not like
books, and would not go to school, and
was the most contrary pig that ever you
saw. When asked to be quiet, he would
dance a jig, and make all the noise possi-
ble, and he was never so happy as when
playing tricks on other people. He did
not dare to act in this way when Big Pig
was around. He knew better than that.

One day the Home Pig stood on a ladder to fix a vine
that grew around the house, when this little pig came along
and thought it would be a
nice chance to play a good
joke. So what did the little
rascal do but run under. the
ladder, giving it, as he did so,
a knock so hard that it tipped
over and fell, and the Home ¢
Pig along with it. The re-
sults might have been ter-
rible, for the fall was great
enough to have broken the
neck of the poor Home Pig,
but fortunately he fell where

the ground was soft, and so
161




THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.



































































































































































\ ‘f

\ & BAA
if Ly
‘ Ze





































eo
UF yp) ez

Hl | Van) ————
&



IN THE WOODSHED.
THE FIVE LITTLE PICS.

escaped with being badly stunned and bruised. By another
piece of good luck, the Roast Beef Pig came along just in
the nick of time to help him into the house, and put him to
bed, where he had to stay for several days, so stiff and sore
was he from his bruises.

Of course the Roast Beef Pig was praised very much for
his kind conduct, and had a nice piece of roast beef given to
him for reward; but as for the naughty little pig who did the
mischief, he got none, and when Big Pig came home that
night, and heard of his wicked doings, he was very angry,
and took him out into the wood-shed where he gave him a
whipping that made him cry most lustily, after which, to
complete his punishment, he was sent to bed without any
supper.

Mid ee Gy ele oly SGOT! Dace VEE Valen A Asie. Ie by WAY.
HOME.

‘Vue fifth little pig was a regular cry-baby.
He was always in tears. He cried in the
morning because he didn't want to get up;
and-cried at night because he didn’t want
to go to bed. There seemed to be no way
of pleasing him. One day Big Pig said he
might go and play out of doors; but he was
not to go near Farmer Growler's place, for
there were bad boys there, and a big dog
that hated the sight of a pig. But this little
pig soon grew tired of playing around the
door-yard, and wandered off toward Farmer

Growler’ to see for himself if what Big Pig said was true.
163


THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.



CRYING ‘WEE! WEE!”

Fe was quite charmed with the place, and was admiring the
beautiful flowers, when a pet monkey jumped on his back,
and gave him such a fright that he nearly fainted away.
Then the boys came out with their whips and gave him the

worst beating he had ever had; and as if that was not cnough,
164


THE FIVE LITTLE PIGS.
they let the dog loose, and he joined in
the chase, and the poor little pig barely
escaped with his life. Sick and sore, he
cried “Wee! wee!” all the way home,
and was so glad to get there that he
laughed out of one side of his mouth,
and cried out of the other.

Then he received a long lecture from
Big Pig, who thought the occasion af.
afforded a first rate chance to give this
little pig some much-needed advice, and
to impress on his mind the bad conse-

quences that always follow disregard of the commands of
ones elders. The little pig took the sermon in avery peni-
tent spirit, and had very little to say for himself, for he could

not deny that all “his *mistor
tunes would have been avoided
if he had paid attention to Big
Pig's warning. The lesson
was not lost upon him, and
from that time forward he be-
haved much more sensibly, and
gave Big Pig far less trouble
than before.

Many folks besides little
pigs have to acquire wisdom in

this way; but the truly wise are ?

those who have sense enough
to follow the advice of people

of more experience than themselves.

165



Z
JACK THE GIANT KILLER.

JACK THE GIANT KILLER.



] DARE say you have heard of King Arthur,
or, as some call him, Prince Arthur, and his
wife Genevra, who reigned in Britain many
hundred years ago—being long before the
time of the good King Alfred. I am going
to tell you a wonderful and remarkable story,
not about King Arthur, but about a marvel-
ous person who lived in his time, and who

did some very brave actions. His name was
Jacke

This Jack was the son of a poor farmer
who lived in Cornwall, near the Land’s-end.
Jack was always a bold, fearless boy. He
feared neither heat nor cold, could climb a

steep mountain, or plunge into a deep stream; and he de-
lighted to hear his father’s stories about the brave Knights
of the Round Table, and of all their valiant deeds.

From constantly hearing of such things, Jack got to take

a great interest in all that related to combats, victories, and

battles. And the more he heard, the more anxious did he



feel to find some enemy against whom he could fight; for he
never doubted that his skill and courage would give him the
victory in EVeETy -en¢eounter.

Now there were several great giants in England and Wales
at the time of which I write; and against these giants Jack
resolved to try his strength and skill. He could scarcely

166
Â¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
have chosen more fitting enemies; for the giants were hated
and feared by everybody, with good reason. If there was
one giant whose absence all Jack's neighbors particularly de-
sired, and whom they were especially sorry to see when he
called in upon them, that giant was the one named Cormoran
(also called Cormorant from his great and voracious appetite.)

This cruel monster lived on St. Michael's Mount, a high
hill that rises out of the sea near the coast of Cornwall. He
was cighteen fect high and nine feet round. He had a very
ugly face, and a huge mouth with pointed teeth like those of
a saw.

He used to come out ot the cave in whicn he dwelt on the
very top of the mountain, and walk through the sea when
the tide was low, right into Cornwall; and the people who
lived there used to take care that he did not find them at
home when he called. However, he did not have his walk
for nothing, for he carried off their cattle a dozen at a time,
slinging them on a pole across his shoulder, as a man might
sling a dozen rabbits. :

When he got tired of eating beef, he would vary his diet
by coming and stealing three or four dozen sheep and hogs,
that he might have a dish of pork and mutton: and these
amimals he would string round his waist and carry off—the
sheep bleating and the pigs squealing—to the great annoy-
ance of the owners, who watched him at a distance and did
not dare to interfere. For the giant had a big club which he
used as a walking-stick, and it had spikes at one end. And
he had been heard to say, that all those whom he did not
knock down dead with the thick end of his club, he would
spit, like so many larks, on the spike at the other end; so the

167
Â¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
people were very shy of coming within reach of either end of
the giant's club.

But there was one youngster who declared he would serve
out Master Cormoran in one way or another; and _ this
youngster was our friend Jack. This 1s the way he made
good his promise :—

One winter's evening, when it was already growing dark,
he swam from the Cornish coast to St. Michael's Mount,
pushing before him a kind of raft on which were a pickaxe,
a shovel, and a dark lantern. It was quite dark by the time
he got to the mount; but in the giant's cave there was a
light, and Jack could see Cormoran, who had just finished
his supper, picking his teeth with a fence-rail. All night
long Jack worked busily and silently by the hght of his dark




lantern, digging a deep pit be- Cua

: : : CAN

fore the giant's dwelling. By ea
Nar

the time the morning dawned,
he- had made=a..creat. many feet deep, and very
broad. He covered this pit-
holé= with sticks and: straw,
and strewed earth and sand
lightly over the top, so that it . .
looked just like solid ground. ~
Then he stepped back a few
paces, ‘took a. trumpet that
hung atthe gate, and blew a
loud blast as a chailenge to
the “stant to come’ out, and

fioht him. Cormoran woke
Tus

CORMORAN,
Â¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
up from his sleep with a start; he
was in a great rage, sure, when he
saw what a little fellow was stand-
ing outside defying him.
“You saucy villain!” he
roared out; “wait a mo-
ment, and [ll broil you
for my breakfast!”
With this agreeable
speech he turned back
into the cave to get the
neat walking-stick I
have told you of; and
having armed himself
with this weapon, he
came rushing out, in-





CORMORAN FALLS INTO THE PIT.

tending to give Jack a
taste—first of the thick end, and then of the spike at the
other end. But the pit was in his way. The giant came
tramping over it with his great heavy feet, and—* crack !”"—
in he went, right up to his neck and stood there roaring
with rage, with only his great head above the surface of the
ground, :

“ Aha, Master Cormoran,” cried Jack, “what say you now
—will nothing serve you for your breakfast this cold morning
but broiling poor me?”

The giant was more enraged than ever; and he made such
a mighty effort to get out of the pit, that the stones and rub-
bish came rolling down into the hole. Jack saw there was

no time to be lost. He raised his pick-axe, struck Cormoran
169
Â¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
one blow on the head with it, and the cruel giant dropped
down dead in a moment.

Jack returned in triumph to Cornwall; and when the peo-
ple heard of their enemy's death, they were very joyful; and
the justices and great squires of Cornwall declared, that from
henceforth, the valiant youth should be called Jack tue Grant
Kirter; and as a further reward they presented him with a
handsome sword, and a belt, on which stood in letters of gold
the words: |

Tis 1s THE variant Cornish Man
Who stew THE Giant Cormoran!

This was all very well; but one piece of work often brings
on another. Jack soon found that his title of “ Giant-Killer”
brought some danger along with it, as well as a good deal of
praise and honor; and a very few weeks after Cormoran’s
death he found he would have to sustain new combats.

Above all, there was a great ugly giant who lived among
the mountains of Wales. This giant had been a friend of
Cormoran’s, and had often been invited by that personage to
dine with him off an ox or half-a-dozen sheep. When he
heard of Cormoran’s death he was very angry, and vowed
vengeance against Jack.

Now it happened that Jack took a journey into Wales;
and one day, as he was traveling through a wood, he sat down
beside a fountain to rest. The day was hot; and Jack, over-
come by fatigue, quickly fell asleep beside the fountain. As
he lay there, who should come by but old Blunderbore, (this
was the giant's name). The giant saw by the inscription
on Jack’s belt who and what he was. “ Aha,” he chuckled,

“have I caught you, my valiant Cornish man? Now you
170
Â¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
shall pay for your tricks,”
and he hoisted Jack
up on his shoulder and
began to stride towards
his castle as fast as he
could. The jolting walk
of the giant soon woke
Jack out of his sleep,
and he was very much
alarmed when he found.
himself in Blunder-
bores clutches.
Blunderbore seemed
to enjoy Jack’s fright
very much; and _ told
him with a hideous grin
that his favorite food
was a man’s heart eaten
with salt and pepper;
and showed pretty plainly that he intended heartily to enjoy
Jack’s heart within a very short time. Blunderbore said he
did not care to eat such a nice meal as the Giant Killer would
be, all by himself? He had one or two giant friends who
used to come to supper with him, and as soon as he arrived
at his castle, he locked Jack securely in a room, while he
went off to invite one of these to spend the day with him,
that he might brag of having captured the famous hero, who
slew their lamented friend Cormoran.
Jack paced to and fro in the room in which he was con-

fined for some time in great perplexity, and at last ran to the
171



JACK IS CAPTURED BY BLUNDERBORE,
GFACK THE GIANT KILLER.

window to see if he could leap out. It was too high for him
to think of such a thing; and—oh, horror !—there were the
two giants coming along arm-in-arm.

Jack cast a glance around the room, in a far-off corner of
which he espied two stout cords. ‘To seize them, make a
running noose in the end of each, and twist them firmly to-
gether, was the work of a moment; and just as the giants
were entering the gate of the castle, he cleverly dropped a
noose over the head of each. The other end was passed
over a beam of the ceiling, and Jack pulled and hauled with
all his might; in short, he pulled with such a will that: the
giants were very soon black in the face. When Jack found
the giants were half strangled by the cords, he got out of
the window, and sliding down the rope, drew his sword and
killed them both.

Jack lost no time in getting the giant's key and setting all
the captives free; and he gave them the castle and all it con-
tained as a reward for their sufferings; and bidding them a
polite good-bye, pursued his journey.

He walked on sturdily till the night came, by which time
he had reached a large and handsome house, which looked
very inviting to a weary traveler, who had walked many miles,
after killing two giants. He knocked at the door to ask ad-
mittance for the night, and was rather startled when the door
was answered by a large giant. This monster was indeed
a formidable fellow. He was as tall as Cormoran, and a
foot or two broader round the waist, and had two heads.
He was very civil, however. He made our hero a bow, and
invited him into his house, gave him a good supper, and sent
him to bed. But Jack did not entirely trust his host. He

172
FACK THE GIANT KILLER.

thought he had seen him
shaking his fist at him slily
once or twice during sup-
per time; so, instead of
going to sleep he listened.
Presently he heard the
giant marching about in
the room, singing a duet
for ‘two voices all by him-
self—the treble with one
mouth, and the bass with
the other. This was the














= See song he sang :—
pe gd A ie me “Though you lodge with me this
YG el yy gh y g
“4 ; “nt tO"
h hay (, He q i night,
J “ en ae I You shall not see the morning light ;
% 4 eGR [TS y .
‘ s %, LP “yp : My club shall dash your brains out
Ny) th by “= . ”
NA Alp 2g —quite |
| WN ey AN
rr aw
Se Seema tee

“Indeed, "thought Jack,
when he heard this amiable
ditty. ‘Are these the tricks you play upon travelers, Mr.
Giant. But I hope I shall prove a match for you yet.” So
he began groping about the room to find something to lay in
the bed instead of himself, against the time when the giant
should bring the club. He found a great log of wood in the
fire place; and this he put into the bed and covered it well
up, while he himself lay concealed in a corner of the room,

In the middle of the night he heard the two-headed giant
come creeping softly into the room. He sidled up to the bed
and—* Whack !—Whack !— Whack ! down came his cruel
club upon the log of wood, just where Jack’s head would have

173

END OF BLUNDERBORE AND HIS FEIEND.
Â¥ACK THR GIANT KILLER.
been but for his clever trick. The giant, thinking he had
killed his guest, retired. We may fancy how surprised he
was when Jack came next morning to thank him for his
night's lodging. 7 ,

The giant rubbed his eyes and pulled his hair to make
sure that he was awake; but Jack stood looking on as cool
as a cucumber.

“Why? ho-ow-w-w did you sle-e-e-ep?” stammered the
giant at last. “Was there nothing to dist-u-r-r-b you in the
night? =

“Oh, I slept exceedingly well,” replied Jack. “I believe
a rat came and flapped me with his tail three or four times:
but he soon went away again.” |

The giant was so surprised that he sat down on a bench,
and scratched his head for three minutes, trying to make it
out. Then he rose slowly, and went away to prepare break-
fast. Jack now thought he would play the giant another
trick; and he managed it in
this way. He got a great
leather bag and fastened it to
his body, just under a loose
kind cf blouse he wore, for
he thought he would make
the giant believe he had an BAS
immense appetite. Presently / Jp)
the giant came in with two \. >
great bowls of hasty pud-
ding, and began feeding each
of his mouths by turns. Jack

took the other bowl and pre- THE TWO-HEADED GIANT AT BREAKFAST.
174














i RY | ii),
fe y ZS
Se se
: \ AN S /
eS



My
Uy,
y


Â¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
tended to eat the pudding it contained; but instead of swal-
lowing it, he kept stowing it in the great leather bag. The
giant stared harder than ever, and appeared to seriously
doubt the evidence of his own eyes. He was wondering to
behold such a little chap as Jack eat such a breakfast.
“Now, said Jack, when breakfast was over, “1 can show
you a trick. I can cut off my head, arms, or legs, and put
them on again, just as I choose; and do a number of strange
‘and wonderful things besides. Look here, I will show you
an instance.” So saying he took up a knife and ripped up the
leathern bag, and all the hasty pudding came tumbling out
on the floor, to the great surprise of the giant. “ Ods! splutter
hun nails! cricd ihe giant,“ hurean.do that hurselis | -So,
determined not to be outdone by such a little chap as Jack,
he seized his knife! plunged it into the place where nis hasty
pudding was!! AND pbRoprED DOWN DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!!
After this great achievement Jack had a better title than
ever to the name of the “ Giant Killer.” He continued his
journey, and a few days afterwards we find him traveling in
very grand company indeed. ‘The only son of King Arthur
had traveled into Wales, on an errand somewhat similar to
Jack’s. He wanted to deliver a beautiful lady from the hands
of a wicked magician, who was keeping her in captivity.
One day the prince fell in with a sturdy traveler, and found
by the belt the stranger wore, who he was; for Jack's fame
had by this time traveled as far even as King Arthur's court.
The prince therefore gladly joined company with Jack, who
offered his services, which were, of course, accepted.
A mile or two further on they came to a large castle in-
habited by a wonderful giant indeed: a greater personage

175
FACK THE GIANT KILLER.

than even the gentleman who “spluttered his nails;” for this
giant had carer heads, and could fight five hundred men (at
feact said he could.) The prince felt rather awkward about
asking such a personage to entertain him; but Jack undertook
to manage all that. He went on alone, and knocked loudly
at the castle gate. “Who's there?” roared the giant. “ Only
your poor cousin Jack,” answered the intruder. The giant,
like most great men, had a good many poor tions and
Jack ee this very well. “What news, cousin Jack?
asked the giant. “Bad news!
Bad news !—dear uncle,” re-
plied Jack.“ Pooh! bah |==
nonsense, cried the giant;
“what can be bad news for a
person like me, who has three
heads and can fight five hun-
dredameénz = oi Oh, my" poor
dear uncle!” replied the cun-
ning Jack “the King’s son is
coming, with two thousand
men, to kill you and destroy
your castle!” All the giant's
three faces turned pale at
once; and he said, in a trem-
bling voice, “This is bad
news, indeed, cousin Jack
but PI hide in the cellar and
you shall lock me in, and








f
my MA
4, 4 Ms Me
phe
BN



keep the key till the prince

”?
re mx
JACK BRINGS BAD NEWS TO HIS ‘‘ UNCLE,” has gone.
176
FÂ¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
Jack laughed in his sleeve as
he turned the key of the cellar
upon the giant: and then he
fetched the prince and_ they
feasted and enjoyed themselves,
whilst the poor master of the
house sat in the cellar shivering
and shaking with fear. Next
morning Jack helped the prince
to a good quantity of the giant's
treasure, and sent him forward
on his journey He then let out
his “uncle,” who looked about
him in rather a bewildered way,
and seemed to think that the
two thousand men had not done
much damage to his castle after
all, and that the prince's retinue
had very small appetites. Jack was asked what reward he
would have, and answered—*“ Good uncle, all I want is the
old coat and cap, and the rusty sword and the worn slippers
which are at your bed’s head.” “ You shall have them,” said
the giant. “They will be very useful to you. The coat will
make you invisible; the cap will reveal to you hidden things;
the sword will cut through anything and everything; and the
slippers will give you swiftness; take them, and welcome, my
valiant cousin, Jack. 3
Jack and the prince soon found out the wicked magician,’
and in due course killed him, and liberated the lady. The

prince married her the next day. The happy pair t then pro-
li7



TURNING THE KEY ON THE GIANT,
FACK THE GIANT KILLER.

ceeded to King Arthur's court, and so pleased was the mon-
arch with what they had done, that Jack was made one of
the Knights of the Round Table. oe |

But Jack could not be idle. He wanted to be employed
on active service, and begged the King to send him forth
against all the remaining Welsh giants. :

_He soon had an opportunity to display his prowess; for
on the third day of his journey, as he was passing through a
thick wood, he heard the most doleful groans and shricks.
Presently he saw a great giant dragging along a handsome
knight and a beautiful lady by the hair of their heads in a
very brutal manner. Jack at once put on his invisible coat,
and taking his sword of sharpness, stuck the giant right
through the leg, so that the
great monster came tum-
bling down with acrash. A
second blow of the sword
cut off the giant's head. The
knight and his lady thanked
their deliverer, you may be
sure; but Jack would not
accept an earnest invitation
they gave him to go to their
castle and live with them,
for he wanted to see the
giants den. They told him 4
the giant had a_ brother
fiercer than himself, who
dwelt there; but Jack was

not to be deterred.
178



JACK USES HIS MAGIC SWORD TO GOOD PURPOSE.
FACK THE GIANT KILLER.

Sure enough, at the mouth of the cavern sat the giant on
a block of timber, with a club by his side. “Here is the
other,” cried Jack, and he hit the giant a blow with his sword.
The giant could see no one, but began to lay about him with
his club: Jack, however, slipped behind him, jumped on the

log of timber, cut off the giants |

1ead, and sent it to King

Arthur with that of the giant's brother; and the two heads
: o
just made a good wagon load.

Now, at length, Jack felt entitled to go and sce the knight





TAKING THE
179



GIANTS’ HEADS TO KING ARTHUR.



and his lady—and

* I can tell you there

were rare doings at
the castle on his ar-
rival. The knight
and all his guests
drank to the health
of the Giant-Killer;
and he gave Jack a
handsome ring with
a picture on it of
the giant dragging
along the once un-
happy couple.

_ ‘They were in the
height of their mirth
when a messenger
arrived to tell them
that “4 hind ele 4

= fierce -ciant@and a

near relation of the
FACK THE GIANT KILLER.























THUNDEL IN THE CASTLE MOAT.

two giants, was coming, burning with rage, to avenge his
kinsmen’s death. All was hurry and fright; but Jack bade
them be quiet—he would soon settle Master Thundel, he
said. Then he sent some men to cut off the drawbridge, just
leaving a slight piece on each side. The giant soon came
running up, swinging his club, and though he could not see
Jack, for our hero, knowing the importance of keeping out of
sight on such occasions, had taken the precaution to put on
his coat of darkness, yet his propensity for human flesh had
rendered his sense of smelling so acute, that he knew some
one was at hand, and thus declared his intentions:
‘“ Fee |—fie !—foh !—fum !

I smell the blood of an Englishman.
Be he alive



or be he dead—



I'll grind his bones to make my bread!”

“First, catch me,” said Jack, and he flung off his coat of
darkness and put on his shoes of swiftness, and began to run,
the giant rushing after him in a great rage. Jack led him

180
Â¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
round the moat, and then suddenly ran across the draw-bridge;
but the giant, who followed him very closely, no sooner came
to the middle where the bridge had been cut, than it snapped
with his weight at once, and down he went—splash !—into
the moat, which was full of water and of great depth. The
giant struggled fiercely to release himself from the unexpected
and uncomfortable position in which he was placed; but Jack,
who had looked forward to this moment with the greatest
anxiety, was quite prepared to counteract all his efforts. A
strong rope, with a running noose at the end, had been kept
in readiness, and was cleverly thrown over the giant's head
by Master Jack, who had found such a weapon very useful
on a former occasion, and had since taken great pains to
make himself perfect in its use. By this means he was drawn
to the castle side of the moat, where, halfdrowned and half.
strangled, he lay at the mercy of the Giant-Killer, who com-
pleted his task by cutting off the giant's head, to the evident
pleasure of all the inhabitants of the castle and the surroun-
ding country. As Jack was naturally desirous that the king
should be made aware of the good service he was doing the
state, the giant's head was sent
to King Arthur.
After spending a s
very pleasantly with the knight
and his lady, Jack again set out
in search of adventures. And
it was not long before he met ,
with a good one. At the foot ‘
of a high mountain, he lodged,

one night, with a good old
181

short time




THE OLD MAGICIAN,
FÂ¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
hermit. ‘This hermit was very glad
to see Jack when he heard that
his visitor was the far-famed Giant-
Killer; he said “I am rejoiced to
see you, for you can do good ser-
vice here. Know that at the top of
this mountain stands an enchanted
castle, the dwelling of the giant
Galligantus. This wicked mon-
ster, by the aid of a magician as
bad as himself, is now detaining a
number of knights and ladies in
captivity ; and to do so the more
surely, the magician has changed
them into beasts. Amongst the
rest there is a,duke’s daughter who

PROS ag Pein was carried off as she was walking’
in her father’s garden, and borne away to this castle in a
chariot drawn by two fiery dragons. They have changed
her into a deer. With your coat of darkness you might
manage to pass by the fiery griffins which keep guard at the
gate, without being seen; and your sword of sharpness



would do the rest,”

Jack wanted to hear no more. He promised to do his
very best, and the next morning early he set off dressed in
his invisible coat, to climb the mountain. And it was well
he had put his garment on; for long before he got to the
castle he could see the old magician, who was of a very sus-
picious nature, looking out of the second floor window. He

had an owl on his shoulder, which looked very much like
182
Â¥ACK THE GIANT KILLER.
himself; and he had a long wand in his hand: and stood
poking his red nose out of the window in a most inquisitive
manner.

At the castle gate sat the two griffins, likewise on the look-
out; but thanks to his coat Jack passed between them
unharmed. At the gate hung a large trumpet, and below
it was written, as a notice to travelers

“ Whoever can this trumpet blow,
Shall cause the giant's overthrow.”

You may fancy what a blast Jack blew: but you can hardly
fancy the crash with which the gates flew open; and the be-
wildered look of the giant and magician, as they stood biting
their nails with vexation and fear. The captives were liber-
ated, and the giant and magician killed in a most satisfactory
way; and Jack sct out for King Arthur's court with the fair
duke's daughter, whom he soon made his wife, and I am told
they lived long and happily.

Now I only hope
that all little boys and
girls who read this his-
tory, will attack the
gigantic sums, verbs,
and lessons they may
have to do as valiantly,



and conquer them as
_completely, as the
giants were ovcr-
thrown by Jack THE

GIANT-KILLER. THE KIND OF GIANTS YOUNG FOLKS HAVE TO FACE NOWADAYS,
183 5:
THE ROBIN’S CHRISTMAS EVE,

THE ROBIN’S CHRISTMAS EVE,



‘TWAS Christmas time: a dreary Not far from Jem’s, another house

night: Of different size and form,
The snow fell thick and fast, Rose high its head, defying well
And o’er the country swept the wind The fierce and pelting storm.

A keen and wintry blast.

It was the Squire’s stately home—
A rare, upright Squire he,

As brave and true a gentleman
As any one could see.

The little ones were all in bed,
Crouching beneath the clothes,
Half trembling at the angry wind,

Which wildly fell and rose.

Old Jem the Sexton rubbed his leg, The Squire sat in his library

For he had got the gout; So cheerful, bright, and warm,
He said he thought it wondrous When suddenly he roused himsclf
hard . To look out at the storm.

That he must sally out.

Lifting the shutters’ ponder-
ous bar,
He threw them open wide,
And very dark, and cold, and
drear,
He thought it looked out-
side.

Ah, Squire! little do you
think
A trembling beggar’s near,
Although his form you do
not see,
Fis voice you do not hear.


S EVE.

INS CHRISTMA

THE ROB

there he stands—so very

d

Yes

d

close
He taps the window pane;

And wh

en he sees you turn

’

y taps again.

away

He fe

]

eb

in vain; the heavy bar

Was fastened as before;
The Squire’s portly form re-

I

uta

B







traced
His highly polished floor.
























































































































































































THE ROBINS CHRISTMAS EVE.

Now, is there any one who thinks
It cannot be worth while

To write about a Robin’s fate,
And treats it with a smile ?

If so, I bid him to his mind
Those words of Scripture call,
Which say that not without God’s

will
Can e’en a Sparrow fall.

Our Robin’s history simple was,
There is not:much to tell==

A little happy singing bird,
Born in a neighboring. dell.

And through the summer, in the
wood,
Life went on merrily ;
But winter came, and then he found
More full of care was he.

lor food grew scarce; so hav-
ing spied
Some holly-berries red
Within the Rectory garden
grounds,
Thither our hero fled.

One evening everything was
dull,
The clouds looked very black,
The wind ran howling through
the sky,
And then came grumbling
back.

186

The Robin early went to bed,
Puffed out just like a ball;

He slept all night on one small leg,
Yet managed not to fall.

When morning came he left the
tree,
But stared in great surprise
Upon the strange, unusual scene
That lay before his eyes.

It scemed as if a great white sheet
Were flung all o’er the lawn;
The flower-beds, the paths, the
trees
And all the shrubs were vonc!

His little feet grew sadly cold,
And felt all slippery too ;

He stumbled when he hopped along
As folks on ice will do.


THE ROBINS



And yet he had not learnt the worst
Of this new state of things ;

He'd still to feel the gnawing pangs
Phat cruel hunger brings.

No food to-day had touched his
beaks
And not a chance had he
Of ever touching it again,
As far as he could see.

At length, by way of passing time,
He tried to take a nap,

But started up, when on his head
He felt a gentle tap.

‘Twas buta snow-flake, after all |
Yet, in his wretched plight,
The smallest thing could frighten
him,

And make him take his flight.
187

CHRISTMAS EVE.

But soon he found he must not
hope
From these soft flakes to fly :
Down they came feathering on his
head,
His back, his tail, his eye!

No gardeners appeared that day:
The Rector’s step came by,

And Robin fluttered o'er the snow
To try to catch his eye.

But being Christmas eve, perhaps
His sermons filled his mind,

lor on he walked, and never heard
Vhe little chirp behind.

Half-blinded, on and on he roamed,
Quite through the Squire’s park;

At last he stood before the house,
But all was cold and dark.
THE ROBIN’S CHRISTMAS EVE.































































































































Now suddenly his heart beats
high |
He sees a brilliant glare,
Shutters unfurl before his eyes—
A sturdy form stands there !

He almost frantic grew, poor bird!
Fluttered, and tapped the pane,
Pressed hard his breast against
the glass,
And chirped,—but all in vain |

So on he went, and as it chanced,
IIe passed into a lane,
And once again he saw a light

Inside a window-pane.
188



Chanced, did we say? let no such
word
Upon our page appear ;
Not chance, but watchful Providence
Has led poor Robin here.

’Twas Jem the Sexton’s house from
which
Shone forth that cheering light—
For Jem had drawn the curtain
back
To gaze upon the night.

And now, with lantern in his hand,
He hobbles down the lane,

Mutt’ring and grumbling to himself,
Because his foot’s in pain.

He gains the church ; then for the
key
Within his pocket feels,
And as he puts it in the door,
Robin is at his heels.
THE ROBINS CHRISTMAS EVE.

Jem thought, when entering

the church,
That he was all alone, ‘ KON
Nor dreamed a little strang- “TAK

er bird,

Had to its refuge flown.

The stove had not
very low,
But still was warm and

bright,

And round the spot where-
on it stood
Threw forth a cheerful

light.

yr ee

NBS Aik Sloat
SOGIE TGS.
Nas: eo

Wes

ee b; a Fy QING Bay TH 1








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THE ROBINS CHRISTMAS EVE.




-, Jem lost no time; he flung


















Za TILING

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ee ee ZF And raked the ashes out,



MUS ULTI
2 ig Then hurried off to go to

Z bed,

WZ Still grumbling at his
VLE

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Now Robin from a corner
hopped,
Within the fire’s light ;



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190
THE ROBIN’S CHRISTMAS EVE.



—

But he is almost starved, poor os rae
bird! ef SB abee
Food he must have, or die:
Useless it seems, alas! for
that
Within these walls to try.


















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Yet see! he makes a sud-
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His searching eye has
found
The greatest treasure he
could have,—
Some bread - crumbs
on the ground!


























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THE ROBIN’S CHRISTMAS EVE



Perhaps ‘tis thought by those who
read
Too doubtful to be true,
That just when they were wanted,
Some hand should bread-crumbs
strew

But this is how it came to pass:
An ancient dame had said

Her legacy unto the poor
Should all be spent in bread.

So every week twelve wheaten
loaves
The Sexton brought himself;
And crumbs had doubtless fallen
when
He placed them on the shelf.

Enough there were for quite a feast,
Robin was glad to find;
The hungry fellow ate them all,

Nor left one crumb behind.
192

He soon was quite him-
self again,
And it must be con-
fessed
His first thought, being
warmed and fed,
Was all about his
breast.

To smooth its scarlet
feathers down,
Our hero did not fail,
And when he’d made it smart,
he then
Attended to his tail!

His toilet done, he went to sleep,
And never once awoke,

Till, coming in on Christmas morn,
Jem gave the stove a poke.

Then in alarm he flew away
Along the middle aisle,

And perching on the pulpit-top
He rested there awhile.

But what an unexpected sight
Is this that meets his eyes!
The church is dressed with holly
green,
To him so great a prize.

For ’mongst the leaves the berries
hung,
Inviting him to eat ;
On every side were hundreds
more,—
A rich and endless treat.
THE ROBINS CHRISTMAS EVE.

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Now, very soon a little troop,

Of children entered in: The Rector followed them himself,
They came to practice Christmas To help the young ones on,
songs And teach their voices how to sing,
Ere service should begin. In tune, their Christmas song.

193
THE ROBINS CHRISTMAS EVE.

And first he charged them all to
try
To feel the words they sang;
Then reading from his open book,
He thus the hymn began.

‘Glory to God from all

To whom He’s given breath ;
Glory to God from all

Whom He has saved from death.”

Now, when the Rector’s voice had
ceased,
The children, led by him,
Were just about, with earnest voice,
The verse of praise to sing.

When suddenly, from high above,
Another song they hear,

And all look up in hushed amaze,
At notes so sweet and clear.

*Twas Robin, sitting on a
spray
Of twisted holly bright;
His light weight swayed it, as
he sang
His song with all his might.

His heart was full of happi-
ness,
And this it was that drew
Praise to his Maker, in the
way,

The only way, he knew.

194

It seemed as though he understood
The words he just had heard,

As if he felt they suited him,
Though but a little bird.

The Rector’s finger lifted up,
Kept all the children still,
Their eyes uplifted to the bird

Singing with open bill.

They scarcely breathed, lest they
should lose
One note of that sweet strain ;
And Robin scarcely paused before
He took it up again.

Now, when he ceased, the Rector
thought
That he would say a word ;
For Robin’s tale had in his breast
A strong emotion stirred.


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THE CHILDREN LISTENING TO THE ROBIN’S SONG,
THE ROBINS CHRISTMAS EVE.

“Children,” said he, ‘ that little
voice
A lesson should have taught:
It seems to. me the Robin’s song
Is with instruction fraught.

‘“He was, no doubt, in great dis-

tress.
Deep snow was all around;

He might have starved, but comin

here
- Both food and shelter found.

“Seek God, my children, and
when times
Of storm and trouble come,
He'll guide you as He did the
bird,
And safely lead you home.

‘‘Another lesson we may learn
From those sweet notes we
heard
That God has given voice of
praise
To that unconscious bird;

“But unto us His love be-
stows
A far more glorious gift,
For we have veason, and our
souls,
As well as voice, can lift.”

The Rector paused, for now

rang forth
The merry Christmas
chime,

196











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And warned them all.that it was
near
The usual service~time.

And we must close the Robin's

tales
‘Twill be a blessed thing
Should it have taught but one
young voice,
To praise as well as sing.



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THE ENCHANTED FAWN.



"THERE were once a brother and sister who loved each

other very dearly. Their mother was dead, and_ their
father had married again a woman who was most unkind
and cruel to them. One day the boy took his sister by the
hand, and said: “ We have not had a happy hour since our
mother died. Our step-mother makes us work at the hardest

tasks from morning till night, and beats us every day. Our
197
THE ENCHANTED FAWN

only food is the hard bread-crusts that are left over. The
dog under the table fares better than we do; she throws him
-many a good bite. Heaven help us! Oh! if our mother only
knew what we suffer! Come, let us leave here, and go out
into the wide world.”

All day they wandered over fields and meadows and stony
roads. ‘They were very sad, and once, when it rained, the
little sister said: “God and our hearts are weeping together.”
By evening they came to a large forest. Tired out with hun-
ger, sorrow, and the long journey, they crept into a hollow
tree, and fell asleep.

The next morning when they awoke, the sun was high in
the heavens, and shone warm and bright into the tree.

“T am so thirsty,” said the little boy to his sister. “If I
only knew where there was a brook, I would go and geta
drink. Hark! I think I hear water running.” They climbed
out of the tree, and taking hold of each other's hands, went
to find the brook.
~ Now the wicked step-mother was a witch, and had seen
the children go away, and knew where they were

She had sneaked after them, as is the habit OE witches,
and had bewitched all the water in the forest.

Soon the children found the little brook, that sparkled and
rippled over the stones. But just as the boy was stooping
to drink, the sister heard, as if the brook murmured :

“Drink not of me! drink not of me!
Or to a tiger changed you'll be.”
So she begged of him not to drink the water or he would
become a wild beast and tear her to pieces. Thirsty as he

was, the boy did as she wished, and said he would wait until
198
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.

\



Rr

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RE
Ke

THE BROTHER DRINKS THE BEWITCHED WATER.

19
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.
they came to the next spring. Soon they came to another
brook, and the maiden heard the waters whisper :

“Drink not of me! drink not of me!
Or to a black wolf changed youll be.”

And a second time the sister begged her brother not to
drink the water or he would be changed into a black wolf
and devour her. Again the brother did as she wished, but
he said: “I will wait until we come to the next brook, then
I must drink, say what you will, or I shall die of thirst.”

But when they came to the third brook, the sister heard
the cool waters murmuring :

“Drink not of me! drink not of me,
Or to a young deer changed you'll be.”
And she cried: “ Dear brother, do not drink here, or you
will be turned into a fawn, and run away from me.”

But her brother had already knelt by the stream to drink,
and as soon as the first drop passed his lips he became a
fawn.

The little sister wept bitterly over her poor eid
brother, and the little fawn also wept, and kept close to her
side. At last the maiden said: “Do not cry any more, dear
little fawn, I will never leave you,” and she untied her golden
garter and fastened it around his neck, then braiding some
rushes into a soft string, she tied it to the collar, and led him
away into the deep forest.

After they had traveled a long, long distance, they came
to a little cottage. The maiden joo in, and seeing it was
empty, thought: “ We can stay here and live.”

She gathered leaves and moss and made a soft bed for the

fawn. Every morning she went out into the forest to gather
200
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.

—
v

uf ‘ 4)
P'S LB)
ip

zi e Se



THE FAWN IS PURSUED BY THE KING AND HIS HUNTSMEN.
201
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.

roots and berries and nuts for her own food, and tender grass
for the fawn, who would eat out of her hand and play happy
around her. When night came, and the little sister was tired,
she would say her prayers, lay her head on the fawn’'s back
for a pillow, and sleep peacefully until morning. Their life
in the woods would have been a very happy one, if the
brother could only have had his proper form.

The maiden had lived a long time in the forest with the
fawn for her only companion, when it happened that the king
of the country held a great hunt. The loud blasts of the
horn, the baying of the hounds, the lusty cries of the hunts-
men, sounded on every side. The young deer heard them,
and was eager for the chase.

“ Please let me join the hunt,” he said to his sister; “ I can-
not restrain myself any longer,’ and he begged so piteously,
nat at last she consented.

« At evening you must come back again,” she said. “ But
I shall have my door locked against ioe wild hunters, and
that I may know you when you knock, say: ‘Sister, let me
in. If you do not say this, I shall not open the door.”

She opened the door and the deer bounded away, glad
and joyful to breathe the fresh air, and be free. The king
and his huntsmen saw the beautiful animal, and started in
chase of him, but they could not catch him, and when they
thought they had him safe, he sprang over the bushes and
disappeared. As soon as it became dark, he ran to the little
cottage, knocked at the door, and cried: “ Sister, let me in.”
The door was quickly opened; he went in, and rested all
night on his soft bed.

The next morning the chase was continued, and when the
202
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.









THE SISTER CARING FOR THE WOUNDED FAWN.

203

je

Sos

7


THE ENCHANTED FAWN.
deer heard the sound of the horn, and the “ Ho! ho!” of the
huntsmen, he could no longer rest, and said: “ Let me out,
sister, | must go.’ |

His sister opened the door, saying to hie “You must
return at evening, and don’t forget what I told you to say.”

As soon as the king and his huntsmen caught sight of the
young deer with the golden collar, they all gave chase, but
he was too quick and nimble for them. All day long they fol-
lowed him. Towards evening the huntsmen surrounded him,
and one of them wounded him a little in the foot, so that he
limped and had to run more slowly. One huntsman followed
him to the cottage, and heard him cry: “Sister, let me in.”
Then he saw the door open, and quickly close again. ‘The
huntsman was astonished, and went and told the king all he
had seen and heard. “To-morrow,” said the king, “we will
once more give him chase.’

But the fden was very much frightened when she saw
that the deer was wounded. She Washed the blood troniinc
foot, and bound healing herbs on it, and said: “Go and lie
down upon your bed now, dear fawn, that you may become
strong and well again.”

But the wound was so slight that the next morning he felt
nothing of it. And when he heard the sound of the hunt
again outside, he said: “I cannot stay here, I must join them.
They shall not catch me so easily again.”

“No, no,” said his sister weeping; “you must not go.
They will kill you, and I shall be left alone here in the forest,
deserted by all the world.”

“Tf I do not go, I shall die of longing,” he said. “ When

I hear the hunting-horn, I feel that I must bound away.”
204
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.



\\


THE ENCHANTED FAWN.

With a heavy heart, his sister opened the door, and the

young deer went leaping joyfully through the woods. When
the king saw him, he said to his huntsmen: “Do not lose
sight of hin all day, but see that no one does him any
fae 3 ,
When evening came, the king said to his men: “Come
now, and show me where the cottage stands.” They did so,
and the king going to the door, knocked and cried, “ Sister,
let me in.” The door opened, the king entered, and he saw
standing before him a maiden more beautiful than any he had
ever seen before. But how great was her astonishment on
opening the door, to see, instead of the deer, a man enter,
wearing a golden crown on his head. But the king looked
at her kindly, and extending his hand, said: “Will you go
with me to my castle and be my dear wife?’

“Oh, yes!” replied the maiden, “I am willing to go, but
the deer must go also; I can never leave him.”

“He shall remain with you as long as you live, and shall
never want for anything,” said the king.

At this moment the deer came bounding in. His sister
again fastened the string of rushes to his caller and leading
hee by her own hand, they went out from the lonely cottage
in the woods for the last time.

The king placed the maiden upon his horse and rode with
her to the castle, where the marriage was celebrated with
great splendor, and she became queen, and they lived to-
gether happily for a long time, while the deer played in the
castle garden and received every care and attention.

In ae meantime, the wicked step-mother, on whose account

the children had been driven into the world, had no thought
206
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.





THE KING CARRIES THE MAIDEN HOME TO HIS CASTLE,
207
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.
but that the little sister had been torn to pieces by wild
animals, and that the boy, whom she had turned into a fawn,
had been shot by the hunters. When she heard, therefore,
of their good fortune, and how happy they were, she was
filled with envy, and gave herself no rest until she had
thought of a way to destroy their happiness.

One day, her own daughter, who was as ugly as night,
and had only one eye, said to her: “Oh, if I had only been
born a queen!”

“Be quiet now,” said the old woman; “when the time
comes, I shall be on hand, and you shall yet be a queen.”

The time came when a little son was born to the queen
and the king was away to the hunt. The old woman,-taking ~
the form of a nurse, entered the room of the queen, and said:
“Come, your bath is ready. Let us be quick before it gets
cold.” Her daughter, who was also there, carried the queen
into the bath room, where they had made a suffocating fire,
and leaving her there to die, closed the door upon her and
went away.

This done, the old woman tied a cap on her own daughter's
head, and had her lie down in the queen’s place. She gave
her the form and appearance of the queen as nearly as she
could, but the lost eye she could not restore, so she had her
lie on the side where there was no eye.

In the evening when the king came home, and heard that
he had a son, he was greatly rejoiced, and went at once to
sce the queen. But as he drew the curtain, the old woman

cried: “For your life do not draw that curtain, the queen
cannot bear the light!” So he went away without knowing

that a false queen had taken her place.
208
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.













































G HER CHILD.

THE KING BEHOLDS THE QUEEN VISITIN
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.

At midnight when every one was asleep, as the child's
nurse sat alone by the cradle, she saw the door open and the
true queen enter. She took the child in her arms, nursed
it, and then laying it in its cradle again, covered it carefully,
and went out. She did not forget the deer, but went to the
corner where he lay and gently stroked his back and then
silently disappeared.

In the morning the child’s nurse asked the guard if he had
seen any one leave the castle, but he said no, he had seen no
one. The queen came many nights in this manner without
speaking to any one. The nurse saw her, but said nothing to
any one about it. |

After some time had passed, the queen one night began
to speak, and said:

“ How fares my child? how fares the deer ?
Twice more shall I come, and then disappear.”

The nurse made no answer, but when the queen had gone
she went to the king and told him everything.

“Alas!” said the king, “ what does this mean? To-morrow
night I will watch by the child.”

The next evening he went into the nursery, and at mid-
night the queen came in, and said:

‘“ How fares my child? how fares the deer ?
Once more shall I come, and then disappear.”

She took the child in her arms as usual, and then went out.
The king would not trust himself to speak, but he watched
the following night, and this time she said:

“ How fares my child? how fares the deer ?

This time do I come, and then disappear.”
210
THE ENCHANTED FAWN.

But the king could hold back no longer, and sprang to-
wards her, saying: “ You can be no other than my dear
wife!”

“Ves, I am your dear wife,” she replied, and at that moment
she was restored to life, as well and beautiful as ever.

Then she told the king how he had been deceived by the
wicked witch and her daughter. He had them brought to
judgment and they were condemned to death. The daughter
was driven to the forest where she was torn to pieces by wild
beasts, and the old witch was led to the fire and miserably
burnt. No sooner was she burnt to ashes than the young
deer was restored to his human form, and the brother and
sister spent the rest of their days happily together.



211
THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.

THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.







ga" TT was about seven hundred years ago, in

England, when Richard the First was
king, that Robin Hood lived. At that
time a large part of the land was covered
with great forests, in which deer and
other game ran wild; and it was near
the borders of one of these, called Sher-
wood Forest, that Robin Hood was born.

From his earliest years he had a great
love for all the manly out-door sports and
games of those times, and he became
very expert at them; above all, in the use of the bow and
arrow. He grew so skillful in this that there was no archer
in all the country round who could compare with him, and
he always carried off the prizes at the shooting matches.
Besides this, he had bright wits, and a merry heart; loved a
song and a jest; and was liked by nearly everybody who
knew him.

But something took place which drove him into a way of
life that, otherwise, he might not have chosen for himself,
In those days all the game in the forest belonged to the king;
it was against the law to shoot it; and the king had men in
the forest, called foresters, to catch those who did so and
have them punished. One day, as Robin Hood was pass-
ing through the forest, he met with a party of these foresters.
One of them was a man who had a great name as an archer,

212

WAL 4
OD
\ Gi
\
THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.

and was jealous of Robin Hood's growing fame. He began
to taunt Robin, and at last dared him to show his skill by
shooting a deer which came in sight at a: great distance.
Robin Hood's temper was up; and, without thinking, he put
an arrow in his bow and let it fy at the deer, which it struck
and killed. ‘The forester only became more angry at this
feat, which was one that he could not do himself, so he said
he would take Robin and have him hung for killing the
king’s deer. Robin started to fly, but the foresters pursued
him so closely that he saw no chance of escaping, so he
turned, and again drawing his bow, sent an arrow into the
heart of the man who had begun the quarrel. He dropped
dead, while his comrades stood still, not knowing but that
they might be served as badly, so Robin Hood escaped.
But as there would now
be no merey shown to him
if any of the king’s men
laid hands upon him, he
became an outlaw; that is, \7%
he lived in the forest, and «
got his food by shooting
the deer and other game,
trying of course not to






‘1
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come ithe way ofthe. ..<°
foresters. Now there were
many other young men
who, from one cause and
another, had taken to this

} t
kind of life, and Robin si 0 ay HN

. J LY pas ;
Flood soon gathered them LEE fe

218
THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.
into a band of which he was made captain, and which be-
came so strong that in the end they were more of a terror to
the foresters than the foresters to them. They wore a uniform
of Lincoln green, with scarlet caps; and besides his bow and
arrows, each man had a short sword; while the captain car-
ried a bugle-horn with which to call his men when he needed
them.

They led a pleasant life in the greenwood, but it was an
entirely unlawful one, for besides shooting the game, they
used to rob rich people who passed through the forest. But
Robin Hood, though a robber, was in many ways so good
that he was thought well of by most people; for he would
not take from those who were poor—instead, he often gave
them help. He would let none of his men hurt or rob a
woman, and when the weak were wronged he took their part.

He gave a proof of this one day when he stopped a knight
named Sir Richard of the Lea, who was passing, with two
followers, through the forest. Robin saw that the knight
wore a very sad face, and he asked why this was so. The
knight replied that he had met with losses, and had been
forced to mortgage his lands to the Abbot of St. Mary’s at
York, who, if the money were not paid next day, would seize
all he had. Robin Hood was touched by the sadness of the
knight, and agreed to lend him the sum needed to redeem
his lands. The knight departed in great joy, and this kind
deed was told of, far and wide, greatly to Robin Hood's
credit.

Robin Hood’s dearest friend, and the next in command to
himself, was called Little John. The way in which they

came together was this. Robin liked to roam the forest by
214
Tilt STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.

himself in search of ad-
ventures; and one day, as
he was passing thus along
a forest path, he came toa
brook over which a nar-
row plank was laid for a
bridge. At the same time
a tall stranger, carrying a
Stalcin Re hands, drew
near from the other side.
They met in the middle,
and as they could not pass
each other, it became a
question which should go
back: “sleet memass,, said
the stranger, “or it will be
S the worse for thee.”

Robin bnehed at the idea of any one trying to scare him
by threats, a told the stranger to go back or he would put
an arrow through him.

“Then,” said the other, “thou art a coward, for none other
would offer to use a bow and arrows against a man armed



only with a quarter staff.”

Now Robin Hood was anything but a coward, and could
not bear to do that which would give anybody a right to
call him one; so he stepped aside and cut for himself a staff
of oak.

“ Now,” said he “we are equal; we will fight it out; and
whichever first knocks the other into the water shall be the
victor.”
THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD,

The stranger was seven feet tall, and though Robin Hood
was expert in the use of the quarter staff, he found him more
than a match. After they had thumped each other for a
while, the stranger at last hit Robin a blow which sent him
into the brook. He waded to the bank, while the stranger
stood and laughed at him. Then Robin Hood sounded his
horn, and his men came running from all sides. When he
told them how he had been served, they wished to give the
stranger a taste of the water too, but Robin, who was very
much pleased with his strength and skill, stopped them, and
asked the stranger if he would not be one of his merry-men.

“ Most willingly,” cried he, “and though my name is John
Little, I hope you will find that I can do great things!

The merry-men laughed when they heard the big stranger's
name; and one of them said that it should be changed from
John Little to Little John, which was done, and he was ever
after called that way.

Another time, as Robin Hood was walking through the
greenwood, he found a fat friar sitting near a brook, and
thought he would have some sport with him, so he said:
“Carry me over the brook, fat friar, or I will beat thee till
thou art sore.”

The friar, without a word, tucked up his gown and carried
him over, but as Robin started off he cried :—

“Stop, my fine fellow, and carry me back or it will cause
thee sorrow.”

Robin took the friar on his back, and carried him over,
and set him down, saying :—

“ Now, take me over once more, fat friar. As thou art
twice my weight, it is right I should have two rides to thy one.”

216
THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.

The friar again took him on
his back, but in the middle of
the stream he threw him in
the water, saying: “ Now, my
pretty youth, let us see if thou
canst swim.

Then he went laughing on
his way. But Robin was
anery, and ran after him, and
attacked him with his staff.
The friar defended himself,
and they fought for a long
time without either getting the
best of it. Finally, when both
were tired out, Robin Hood told the friar who he was, and
asked him if he would not like to join his band and be their
chaplain. The friar was a jolly fellow, and was quite willing
to take Robin's offer. So he became one of the merry-men
_and said the prayers for the band. When
it was necessary, he could fight as well
as the best of them, and he got to be
almost as famous as Robin Hood him-
self, being known as Friar Tuck.

Robin, before he became an outlaw, e3\%
had been in love with a young maiden %}
named Marian, but he had not seen her / 7 (iS
since. Her love for him did not die
out, however; and finally her longing to
see him became so great that she put on
boy’s clothes, and went to seelk him in

217




THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.

the forest. She met him
at last; but he did not
know her in her strange
dress, and she would not,
at first, tell him who she
was, but drew her sword
and dared him to fight.
He, of course, soon over-
came her; so she took off
her cap, and let her beau-
tiful hair fall over her
shoulders, and then Rob-
in Hood knew her. He
still loved her as much
as ever, and they were



RE Ge soon marricd by Friar
Tuck, the merry-men celebrating their wedding with great
festivity.

It was the way of the outlaws when they caught travelers
who seemed likely to have much gold or silver about them
to take them to dine with Robin Hood. After they had been
feasted he would see how much they had, and would make
them pay for their entertainment according to their means.
One day they brought before him a rich abbot, the same
who had been so harsh with Sir Richard of the Lea. Robin
Hood resolved that besides taking his gold, he would put him.
to shame; so after they had stripped him of all his moncy,
they tied him upon a mule’s back, with his face to the tail,
and in that ridiculous posture sent him out of the forest,

amiclst hooting and laughter.
218


THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.

One day, as he was on his
way to the town of Notting-
ham, Robin Hood fell in with
a traveling tinker and asked
him for the news. “Surely”
said he, “wandering about as
thou dost, thou must hear a
great deal.” 3

CHAN, (Salcethe tinker ll a
do, and the latest I have heard “el
is the best.”

“What may that be?” asked hf ee.

Robin. Ji bh

‘oltais: -rephed('the’ other, “that: ato last theresis ‘to bean
effort made to catch that thief, Robin Hood. He has done
mischief enough in this forest. I have a warrant, myself,

~



from the Sheriff of Nottingham to catch him ; and it would
be worth a hundred pounds to me if [ could find him.”
Robin laughed to himself at this, but went on talking to
the tinker until they came to Nottingham. Here he invited
the tinker to go with him to an inn, where he treated him so
liberally to ale that he became drunk, and finally, fell asleep.
When he awoke, Robin Hood had gone, and the sheriff's
warrant was missing too. The tinker called the landlord, and
told him of his loss. “ Why,” said the landlord, laughing,
“thou hast been cheated; that was Robin Hood himself.”
The tinker at once started to hunt for Robin again; and
was lucky enough to meet him in the forest the next day.
He attacked him immediately with a thick club that he car-

ried, while Robin defended himself as best he could with his
THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.
oaken staff, which was the only weapon he had with him.
They fought long, on nearly even terms, until at last Robin's
staff broke beneath the stout blows of the tinker, who then
called upon him to yield or he would crack his skull.

Robin blew his horn for help, and Little John and another
came to his aid. They seized the tinker, and were going to
hang him to a tree, but he was such a fine, stout fellow that
Robin Hood thought he would like to add him to his band.
So he proposed that he should join, saying that he would
give him the hundred pounds reward which he had lost.
This was too good an offer to be refused, so the tinker agreed,
and Robin said that as he
was a man of metal by
trade, he hoped he would
prove a man of mettle by
nature.

But it happened, at last,
that King Richard had oc-
casion to journey into that
part of the country where
Sherwood Forest lay; and
there he heard so much of
the doings of Robin Hood, (%
and of the way in which &
he evaded capture, that he &
made up his mind _ that
something must be done to
put an end to such def-
ance of authority. But he

was advised that it would
220



Wi’

F ) it (a
xii
TUE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.

be useless to try to come at Robin Hood with a force of
soldiers, as he knew the forest so well, and how to hide in it,
that he had no trouble in escaping from pursuit when the
reater strength of his foes made him choose not to fight.

So the king concluded to go into the forest alone, wearing
plain black armor, and without anything to show that he was
king; hoping in this way to meet Robin Hood, and learn
for himself what kind of a man he might be.

He had not ridden many miles before he was called upon
to halt by Robin Hood himself, who took him for some ob-
scure knight. The king had been a Crusader, and wore the
red cross which was borne by those who had gone to the
Holy Land to fight; and as Robin Hood had a great respect
for all such, he addressed the supposed knight in a friendly
way, and invited him to come and dine with him.

The king consented, and Robin Hood led him to where
the merry-men held their feasts, and they all sat down toa
banquet of the best the forest afforded. The guest proved a
jolly companion, and did his full share in the way of joke
and song.

Being curious to know if Robin Hood and his men were
as wonderful shots as report made them out to be, the king,
after the meal, turned the talk on to the subject of archery,
and Robin Hood was soon led into giving an exhibition of
the skill of himself and his band. Two rods were set up at
a distance which the king, from his knowledge of archery,
thought to be too distant by at least fifty paces. But Robin
Hood said that his men: must shoot at no nearer mark, and
that by their rules, he who missed should receive a stout blow

as a penalty. When the shooting began, the king could not
221 :

oO
o
THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.
help expressing his admiration at its accuracy; and the inflic-
tion of the penalty in the few cases in which shots were
missed made him laugh heartily. Finally he spoke to Robin
Hood and said:

“Robin Hood, I have much credit with the king. How
would it be if I could get him to forgive thy misdoings?
Wouldst thou be one of his men and serve him faithfully ?”

This was what Robin wished more than all else in the
world. “I would be glad,” said he, “to give up the life I
lead. I did not like it from the first. Some men praise my
deeds; but, for my own part, I hate my way of living. King
Richard is a brave prince, and if he would but forgive me,
he woula find me as true, and as full of love for him, as any
man in his service.”

laps

ill Def ol
Mhngsiy

~



222
THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.

“Tam King Richard,” said the knight, as he stood up with
a majestic air; and when he had said this, Robin Hood and
all his men fell down on their knees before him.

“Stand up, my brave men,” said the king. “You have
been thieves, which you should not have been, but you are
able to serve me if you will. I will forgive what you have
done up to this time, but take care that your acts from hence-
forth are such that I shall feel no grief for the way I now
treat you.”

Then Robin and his men arose and gave three cheers for
the king. |

When the king returned to London, Robin and many of
his men went with him, while those who remained were made
foresters. Robin rose so high in the king’s favor that he
became rich, and was made Earl of Huntingdon. He con-
tinued to be as kind-hearted as ever, and never refused to help
the poor and unfortunate, when
it was in his power to do so.

He lived at court many years:
but when he grew to be an old
man, a great longing took pos-
session of him to return to the
forest and resume the merry
life he had led there in his
younger days. So he got the
king’s permission to leave the
court, and with his dear friend,
Little John, who shared_ his
longing, he sought his old
haunts in Sherwood,

999

a0


THE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.

He found a few of his old comrades still living there, and
spent some time very happily with them. But one day, as
he was walking with Little John, he said:

“We have shot many deer together, Little John, but to-
day I feel as though I could shoot no more.”

“Why sayest thou so, dear master 2” said Little John.

“T know not what ails me,’ said Robin Hood, “but my
fingers seem too feeble to draw the bow. Help me to Kirk-
lave Priory, Little John, perhaps my cousin, the Prioress,
may relieve me by letting a little blood.”

So they set. out for the Priory, but with all the assistance
Little John could give him, the walk so fatigued Robin Hood
that when they reached there he was very ill.

He knocked feebly at the door and went in, while Little
John remained without. His cousin received him with ap-
parent friendship.

«“ Now sit thee down, cousin Robin,” she said, “and I will
get thee food and drink.”

“Nay” said Robin, “I will neither eat nor drink till thou
hast let me blood.”

“Come into my private room then,” said the lady, leading
the way.

Robin Hood had no suspicion of treachery, and placed
himself in his cousin’s hands without fear. ‘That his cousin
was treacherous, however, there 1s no doubt, though the rea-
son for her treachery is not certainly known. By some it
is said that she bore enmity against Robin on account of
his treatment of the Abbot of St. Mary's and other church-
men. Whatever her motive, she bled him so profusely that

the blood would not stay; and when he attempted to rise, and
£24
TUE STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.
open the door of the room in which he had been left alone,
he found that the door was locked.

“ Now’ said he, “what shall I do?” He bethought him of
his horn, and blew three feeble blasts.

“ Alas!” said Little John, who was waiting anxiously near,
“T fear my master 1s nearly dead. I never heard him blow
such blasts as those before.”

He soon broke open the locks, and was quickly by his
master’s side. He saw in a moment all that had occurred.

“ Now,” said he, indignantly, “1 will burn this nunnery
down.”

“Nay, said Robin, “that may not be. I never injured
woman in my life, and dying it should be the same.”

“Then what can I do for thee, dear master?” said Little
John. :

“ Bring me my bow and arrows, and open yonder window.
I will shoot one more shot, and where the arrow falls, there
bury me with my bow by my side.’

So his bow was brought, and
Little John supported him while,
with all his remaining strength,
he shot an arrow out of the
window. He fell back exhaust-
ed, and soon breathed his last.

Then the heart-broken Little
John, and his sorrowing com-
rades, bore him to the spot
marked by the arrow; and there
his grave was dug, and he was
laid to rest as he had directed.

225


























HECTOR, THE DOG.

HECTOR, THE DOG.



Man loves the dog, the dog loves man:
The dog is trusty, strong, and brave,
And God has on the dog bestowed
The power and will man’s life to save.

And often has the tale been told,
How, borne along in eager strife,
While struggling hard to rescue man,

The noble dog has lost his life.



“TCHE little Inn of Martigny “ Nay, stay to-night the way is long ;
Had but few guests on Christmas Dark clouds are flitting o’er the sky ;
Eve, A storm is brewing, trust my word,—
lor men at home made festive cheer, I hear the raven’s warning cry.

And cared not household joys to leave.
“Come, friend, give up thy toilsome walk,

sut ncar the door a traveler stood, And spend thy Christmas with us
Who with his host had earnest talk, heres:

With knapsack girt and staff in hand, The landlord spoke with kindly voice,
All ready for a mountain walk. Himself a well-trained mountaineer.

226 :
HECTOR, THE DOG.
“Nay, press me not,’ the man replied;
“‘T must get home by Christmas day,
The mountain pass I know

right well,









Its hoary peaks and bould-

ers gray.

«Ten years ago I left my home



My fortune in the world to

seek ;







ED “ ig) =
Nh VGA Sh It seems to mea long, long time
Tx Since last I saw these moun-

tains bleak.





















i i } lil 5 a SE i
ay, Sry
A

ee
TI"







= yy
AY g, do

MCA
Si) Ue =






iy oy US s
j Lyi |
1 T TTT, l

(iP



227
HECTOR, THE DOG.
“IT promised them that, come what might,
I would be home on Christmas Day ; :
So farewell ; may God’s blessing be Le

With me along my toilsome way,” is
& TY LO )







In the fast-fading evening light
He then pursued his lonely road,
Onward and upward through the snow,

Leaving behind him man’s abode.






a : iG (oan 3
a
ii







998
HECTOR, THE DOG.

Above him rose the snowy peaks,
Still glowing white against the sky,
And many a crevasse, deep and wide,

Around his path he could descry.

Upward and onward still he toil’d,
His heart was beating loud and fast :
He’d reach’d his own dear fatherland—-

Danger and toil were well-nigh past.
oa oD

He long’d to hear his father’s voice,
His mother’s kiss once more to feel,
And in the quiet restful home
With them once more in prayer to

kneel.

He long’d to spread before their gaze
The honest gains of many a year,
Earn’d with hard toil for those he lov'd

And guarded with a jealous care.

His father, with his silver hair ;
His mother, with her kind blue eyes :
His sisters, little playmates once,—
Would he their faces recognize ?

Colder and colder blew the wind,
It whistled up the mountain-pass,
The blinding snow-storm flew before ;

The ice was slippery as glass.

Onward he went, but cautiously ;
«Surely I have not miss’d my way?

The night grows dark, ‘tis piercing cold:
Can I hold on till dawn of day?”

And still he battled with the storm,
That every moment fiercer grew,
And stronger came the dreadful thought

That he the way no longer knew.









290
HECTOR, THE DOG.



And now his strength is ebbing fast ;
His head is sinking on his breast.
Oh! could he in that fearful storm

But find some shelter, gain some rest!

Happy for him that at that time,
Alone upon the mountain-side,
He knew that to his Father’s love,

His life or death he might confide.

The eddying snow-wreath whirl’d
around-—
Snow hid the path, snow fill’d the air.
He fell unconscious to the ground,

The object of a Father's care.

Above the smooth white-sheeted snow

The convent-walls rose dark and high,

230

And bright the clear, cold stars look’d
down
From out the wind-swept winter sky.

The stately shadows, broad and dark,
Lay stretch’d along the mountain-side,
And through the narrow windows gleam'd

The blazing logs of Christmas-tide.

It was the holy Christmas Eve,

When joy in Christian homes should be
And in this lonely monast’ry

Was friendly talk and quiet glee.

And truly none deserved it more,
Than these lone men of lowly mind,

Who, in their Master’s steps to tread,
Had “eft the pleasant world behind.
LIS Cale Tee

That was a scene for painter's art,
Those men so calm, so free from strife.
Who bore upon each rugged face

The impress of a noble life.

Nor men alone composed the group :
Four dogs, of pure St. Bernard blood.
Or slept unconscious on the hearth,

Or by their masters proudly stood ;

)

Calm, lofty, steadfast, great and stron

oO
2

A picture of the mountains round ;
Both dogs and masters in one tie

Of kindly brotherhood fast bound.

7 Nas)
SS 4, \
ys “f _

LIM

What was their life? had selfish aim
Enticed them to this lonely spot,
Life's toil and burden to escape,

Its battle-field to enter not,

No, surely ; not in sinful ease
The daily life of each was spent,
But to fight hand in hand with Death

Each nerve was strain’d, each power bent.
231

THE DOG.
For here, amongst the snow and ice,
The everlasting winter cold,
Full many a weary traveler

Had died unknown since days of old.

And so to seek and save the lost
These men and dogs were living here ;
Bravely they daily risked their lives,

Nor e’er gave way to thought of fear.










gM
& ll cy

Sf =




In the hall

The monks are gather’d round the

Vespers are Over.

board
To celebrate the joyful feast

With the best cheer their stores afford.

The noble dogs are feasting now,
Fed with kind hands and loving care ;

For if they share their masters’ toils

Their joys and feasts they also share.
HECTOR,

«Brethren and friends,” the Prior said,
“The night grows wild, the storm gets
high,
The dogs are restless ; some must go,

If help is needed, to be nigh.

“This night we'll sing our hymn to Gop
With shepherds and the angelic host ;
But you will praise whilst yet you serve,

And by the serving praise Him most.

So taking hatchets, torches, ropes,
The monks and dogs together

went ;







O&A if
Sass
BM, Ww?
Li SEC EAY
, e "ay /
f 4

They make towards the mountain pass,

And soon the dogs are on a scent.

Smelling and sniffing through the storm,
Their noble heads bent to the snow,
Close follow’d by the stalwart monks,

They bravely up the mountain go.

“Full sure T guess.” said Brother Ralph,

“ Some traveler is out to-night,

wae

~Os




THE DOG.
And sure I am that for his life
With storm and snow he'll have to
fight.

‘And if but once he miss the path
Hard by the precipice which winds,
A fearful sight ‘twill be for him

The mangled traveler that finds.

“But, see, the dogs are on the track ;
See how with one consent they go;
They've turn’d the point,
they're out of sight ;
And, hark! that baying

down below !”

The monks rush on with breathless speed,
All on the strain, no word they say ;
dut as they breast the storm-blasts’ rage,

With silent earnestness they pray.

They turn the point, and down below
The eaver, striving dogs they see,
All on a narrow ledge that hangs

Projecting o’er the icy sea.
ALUCTOR, THE DOG.
There's one way down, but e’en in light,
When all is calm, on summer's day,

While in pursuit of mountain goat,









The hunter dreads that dizzy way.

The brothers pause, and peering down,
Each grasps the other as he stands :
The noble hounds will do till death

What their life-saving law commands.













Hh ie iy ft
Le ie


HECTOR, THE DOG.
First one and then the other, down
That fearful steep, with shuddering cry,

They creep, they cringe, they bound, they







roll,
And now on snow-slip swiftly fly.

The snow-slip takes a happy turn,

And lands them on the icy sea,
And sharp glad barkings upward send
- The tidings of their victory.











ANY,
Wi Wh
My jas ) Sp











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a2 ae | i.


































































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234
AHECTOR, THE DOG.



And thanks to Gop! the storm
is past,
The gentle moon gives out her light
To guide their footsteps down each steep
And aid their swing from height to

height.

They reach at leneth the sea of ice,
Three dogs come bonnding totheir side:
The fourth, brave Hector, where was he

Hurl'd by the avalanche’s slide ?

Anxious and eager rush the dogs
To where a face of hopeful glow
And firm resolve, in death-like swoon,

Peers upward from the open’d snow.

What dogs could do these dogs have
done;
Man’s skill and care must do the rest ;
And sooner far than could be thought
Their efforts with success were blest.

235

But other cares await them now
No sooner had they shown the man,
Then, darting off with eager haste,

The hounds to farther distance ran.

Hector they seek, with whine and cries ;
Scratching the appalling mound of snow,
Which, loosen’d from the mountain-side,

Had swept them with it down below.

Vain work for dogs ! vain work for men!
Thousands of tons of ice and snow,
Heap'd up in one vast funeral pile

Poor Hector holds entombed below.

Alas! poor Hector! Gone for him
Those scampers on the mountain's side,
Where to lead men from height to height

Still upward, was his joy and pride.
HECTOR, THE DOG.






Gone the sweet smell of pine-clad hill,
The bright blue sky, the sunny slope,
The torrent’s roar, the eagle’s cry,

The foes with which he used to cope.

For winter oft would send the wolf
To prowl among the flocks below,
And oft the bear would seek the herds

That shudder’d on their path of snow.

Then mighty courage filled the heart
Of Hector, bravest of the brave |
And forth he rushed, with eager haste,

The trembling flocks and herds to

save. -

But now no more! his work is donc ;
The dog has met a hero's end!

With deep-felt sigh the brethren mourn

Their mute companion and their friend.

236

; by, Me ,>, ae

Wns fire
Hea, i




Rivet
| Hi




\



Then on, with heavy hearts, and slow,
They bear with toil the rescued man,
Mounting still upward to the height

From whence their steep descent began.

And slow, and hanging low their heads,
As if oppress’d by sense of shame
Mingled with grief, the noble hounds

In silence to the convent came.

There watchful care attends the couch
Where rests the traveler return’d,

And swift feet carry to his home
Good news of one they might have

mourn 'd.

But as each Christmas-tide return’d,
And still he toil’d in life’s rough way,
With thankful praise he join’d in thought,
Hector, the dog, and Christmas Day.
THE BLUE BIRD.

THE BLUE BIRD.



NCE upon a time there was a king who was very rich,
both in lands and money. His wife died, and for a
time he was inconsolable: but after a while his grief abated,
and he married again. His second wife was a widow, and
she had a very ugly and disagreeable daughter named Trui-
tonne. The king also had a daughter of nearly the same
age, who was so sweet and beautiful that she was considered
one of the wonders of the world. Her name was Florine.
The new queen doted upon her own ugly daughter, and
the fact that Florine possessed so many advantages over her
made her hate the poor princess to such a degree that she
sought by every means to injure her. Florine, who was as
mild as she was beautiful, merely tried to keep out of the
reach of the malice of the queen and her daughter.

One day it was announced that a visit to the court might
be expected from King Charmant, the young ruler of a
neighboring country. In mind and person this prince, as
his name implied, was charming, and being still unmarried
he was, of course, an object of great interest to all marriage-
able princesses. It at once became the ambition of the
queen to secure him as a husband for Truitonne. She em-
ployed all the dressmakers, milliners, embroiderers, and
work-people of every kind to fit out her daughter, and she
requested the king to give nothing to Florine.

“The king, who disliked argument, answered that he left
her to take any measures she pleased. The queen then

,
237
THE BLUE BIRD.
ordered the waiting-women to take away Florine’s clothes the
very day that King Charmant arrived, so that she was left
with only the gown she had on, which was very much soiled.
She was so ashamed of her appearance that when Charmant
came she hid herself in a corner of the great hall.

The queen presented her daughter to the royal visitor, who
was so little impressed with her magnificence that he turned
his eyes from her as soon as possible. He inquired whether
there was not another princess, named Florine, for reports of
_her beauty had reached him. There being no help for it,
Florine was called forward, and came blushing, and looking
so beautiful in her confusion, that King Charmant was dazzled.
He displayed his admiration so openly that the queen became
furious, and compelled the king, her husband, to consent that
during Charmant’s stay Florine should be shut up in a tower
of the castle.

Charmant had been too deeply smitten by Florine’s charms
to regard her absence with indifference. But his inquiries as
to its cause received no satisfactory answer from the queen,
and he remained, for some time, ignorant of her whereabouts.
At last, one of his attendants succeeded in finding out through
one of the queen’s maids where the princess was confined,
and Charmant managed to get a message to her that the next
night he would be at a little window that looked out from her
room upon the garden, and would have much to say to her.

Unfortunately, one of those through whom the message
had to be conveyed betrayed it to the queen. She imme-
diately decided to place her own daughter at the window,
believing that in the dark Charmant would not be able to

distinguish her from Florine.
238
THE BLUE BIRD.



King Char-
mant was the
owner of amag-
ical flying char-

lot, drawn by

four winged frogs,
which had been
presented to him by
a powerful enchanter who was his
friend. He determined that if Flo-

rine would consent he would carry
239
THE BLUE BIRD.

her off to his kingdom
in this chariot that very
night.

He was promptly at the
appointed window, but








the night was
too dark for him
to discover that,
~Truitonne had
been put in the
place of Florine,






Hi
hie
My

and with her consent,
given in a voice coun-
terfeiting Florine’s as
closely as possible, he placed
her in the chariot, and they

Desiring to be married to his beloved princess as
soon as possible, he asked the supposed Florine
where she would like to have the wedding take place. Trui-

tonne, still personating Florine, answered that she had a god-
240

set off through the air.
THE BLUE BIRD.
mother, named Soussio, who was a celebrated fairy, and she
desired to be taken to her castle.

On their arrival at Soussio’s castle, Charmant discovered
with indignation the trick that had been played upon him,
He Peed absolutely to marry Truitonne, and Soussio, in a
rage, touched him with her wand and ch ranged him into a
blue bird, which form, she declared, he should have to retain
for seven years.

Overwhelmed. with erief, Charmant flew away from the
castle of Soussio. He naturally sought the neighborhood of
the tower where his beloved Florine was confined, and one
evening, as he was perched upon a lofty cypress which stood
near, he heard her at her window, complaining bitterly of
her separation from the one she loved so dearly. He flew
to the window, and Florine, pleased with the tameness of the
bird, took him in her hands and caressed him, when to her
astonishment he began to speak to her, for the king’s trans-
formation had not eave him of the power of opel

He told her who he was and all that had happened, and
Florine felt so happy in the presence of her lover, even in
this form, that she no longer remembered the miseries of her
prison. Day dawned belore they parted, after agreeing that
they would meet every night in the same manner. Dane
the next day Charmant Bey to his palace, and getting in,
secured a magnificent pair of diamond ear- -rings, Sonich he
presented that evening to Florine, and for many days follow-
ing he continued to make visits to the palace, to obtain other
He for his princess.

Two years passed thus without Florine’s once complaining

of her captivity. Her resignation at last excited suspicion
241
THE BLUE BIRD.





















































































































































































































in the mind of the
queen, and she de-
termined to watch
Florine closely.

































































One night she
listened at her door,
and hearing voices

242






























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE BLUE BIRD.

within, burst the door open and entered. Florine wore the
jewels which Charmant had presented to her, and the queen's
astonishment at the magnificence of these adornments for-
tunately prevented her from noticing the blue bird. She
demanded savagely to know how Florine had obtained such
jewels, but Florine refused to tell, and the qucen retired
greatly mystified.

She was determined, however, to have her curiosity about
the matter satished, so she sent a young girl to sleep in Flo-
rine’s apartment, under pretence of waiting upon her, but
really to spy upon her. The princess saw the snare, and for
a time ceased to open her window to the blue bird, But at
last one night the spy appeared to be overcome with drowsi-
ness, and Florine, thinking that she was asleep, opened her
little window, and gave what had been her customary signal
to the blue bird by singing:

‘ Bird as blue as cloudless sky,
Hither, hither quickly fly!”

The bird heard her, and was at the window in an instant
What joy once more to behold each other! But, alas, the
spys sleep was only pretended, and she heard every word
of the tender conversation of the lovers. The next morning
she reported all to the queen and Truitonne.

They of course knew at once that the blue bird was none
other than King Charmant, and great was their rage. “What
an affront!” cried the queen. “This insolent creature, whom
I fancied to be so wretched, was all this time quietly enjoying
the most agreeable conversation with that ungrateful king!
Oh, I will have a revenge so terrible that it shall be the talk
of the world!”

243
THE BLUE BIRD.







aay
OR cit nm ance a





OPT ify ee
Poe SS







Florine was
alone the next
evening, for the
spys presence
was no longer
thought to be
needful, and she

sang again her call to the blue bird. But she sang in vain,
for the wicked queen had caused sharp-edged knives to be
placed in all the trees near the tower, so that when the blue

bird flew among the branches, these weapons cut him fright-
2d
THE BLUE BIRD.
fully. He managed with great difficulty to fly into the forest,
leaving a track of blood behind him. His wounds were so
grievous that he would certainly have died had not his friend
the enchanter, who has been mentioned before, fortunately
_ been passing through the forest and seen him.

This enchanter's skill in magic was so great that it cost
him but a few words to stop the flow of blood and heal the
wounds of Charmant. Then the king told him of all his
misfortunes. The enchanter, not having the power to undo
the spell which Soussio had laid upon the king, decided to
see her and propose some arrangement under which she
would restore him to his own form, for there was danger
that if he continued as a blue bird his subjects might place
some one else on the throne. Soussio received the enchanter
politely, but the only concession she would make was to
allow the king to resume his rightful shape for a short period,
during which ‘Truitonne was to reside at his palace, and he
was to consider whether he would marry her or not. If he
persisted in refusing, he would become a bird again.

This was agreed to, and a touch of Soussio’s wand restored
his own form to Charmant. He returned to his kingdom,
but the idea of marrying Truitonne grew no more agreea-
ble to him, and his mind was less occupied with his govern-
ment than with devising means to prolong the period which
Soussio had agreed should elapse previous to this hateful
union.

But in the meantime, shortly after Truitonne’s departure
to Charmant’s kingdom, a great change took place in Flo-
rine’s fortunes. The king, her father, died, and the queen was
so hated by the people that they rose in rebellion against her,

245
THE BLUE BIRD.
broke into the palace, and stoned her to death. They then
placed Florine on the throne.

Florine’s love for King Charmant had not grown less dur-
ing their long separation, although she was ignorant as to
what had interrupted his visits so suddenly, and could not
feel sure that he had not willfully deserted her. As soon as
the affairs of the kingdom had become settled she named a
council to govern it during her absence, and set out in search
of the blue bird, going disguised as a poor peasant girl.

One day, as she sat by a spring resting, a little old woman
stopped to question her, and Florine told her all her troubles,
Then the little old woman suddenly changed her appearance ~
and became a most beautiful fairy. She smiled, and said:
“Dear Florine, my sister Soussio has restored the king to
his own form, and he is now in his kingdom, where you must
seek him. Here are three magical eggs. Break one when-
ever you need assistance.”

After saying this she disappeared. Florine was too fa-
tigued to walk any furthur, and she determined to test the
virtue of the eggs by breaking one immediately. Out of it
came two pigeons, attached to a car. She sat herself in this
and was at once transported to the capital city of Charmant’s
kingdom.

The first news she heard upon her arrival there was that
the king was soon to be married to Truitonne. Florine felt
as if she would die with grief at what she supposed was the
perhdy of the king. She longed for a chance to appeal to
him, hoping that she could still win him back, but could think
of no means to gain his ear. In this emergency she resorted
to her magic eggs, and broke the second of them. Out of it

246
THE BLUE BIRD.



































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































FLORINE BREAKS THE SECOND EGG.
THE BLUE BIRD.
there came a most exquisite little coach, drawn by six green
mice and driven by a rose-colored rat, while the footmen
were two mice of a light violet color. In the coach sat four
of the daintiest little puppets ever seen.

Florine was enraptured with this marvel, and the way to
make use of it at once suggested itself to her mind, no doubt
by the fairy’s inspiration. She presented herself in her peas-
ant's garb before Truitonne, giving the name of Mie Souil-
lon and saying she had come to sell the future queen
something very wonderful. Then she displayed the coach.
Truitonne showed at once that she was captivated by this
novelty, and at the same time betrayed her mean disposition
by offering for it a very small sum, which Florine refused.
Truitonne then imperiously said: “Without offending me
further by thy filthy presence, tell me your price.”

“You would find it difficult to pay, madame,” said Florine,
“were I to ask its real value, so I will propose a different
sort of bargain. If you will obtain permission for me to
sleep one night in the Cabinet of Echoes, I will present you
with this wonder.”

“Willingly, Mie Souillon,” said Truitonne, laughing like
an idiot at what she supposed was the girl's simplicity.

Now the Cabinet of Echoes was a chamber which the king
had once described to Florine as being one of the wonders
of his palace. It was situated beneath his apartments, and
was so constructed that the faintest whisper uttered in it
could be heard by the king in his bedchamber. To this
place, as soon as night fell, Florine was conducted. She
spent the night in making the most pitcous complaints, ad-
dressed to the king. But he heard nothing, for having been

248
THE BLUE BIRD.

unable to sleep soundly since he had been separated from
Florine, he was in the habit of taking a dose of opium when
he went to bed.

Florine passed the greater part of the next day in extreme
anxiety. “If he heard me,” thought she, “there never yet
was such cruel indifference. If he did not hear me, how
shall I make him do so ?”

There was but one egg left to give her further assistance.
She broke it, and found in it a ple, composed of six birds
which were larded, dressed, and quite ready for eating, yet
which sang admurably, told. fortunes, and were as learned as
college professors.

Florine carried this marvelous pie to Truitonne’s antecham-
ber. While waiting to be admitted to her presence, one of
the King’s valets came up to her and said, “ Mie Souillon,
are you aware that if the king did not take opium, you would
disturb him dreadfully, for you chatter all night long in the
most extraordinary manner 2”

Florine was no longer surprised that the king had not
heard her. She had taken a purse of gold with her when
she left her kingdom, and she now produced all that she had
left of it, and said, “I so little fear disturbing the king’s sleep
that if you will prevent his taking opium to-night, this gold
shall be yours.”

The valet consented, and gave his word in the matter.
The wonderful pie pleased Truitonne as greatly as the coach
had done, and Florine had no difhculty in getting permission
to pass another night in the Cabinet of Echoes as its price.
As soon as night came she was conducted there, ardently
hoping that the king’s valet would keep his word.

Bag
THE BLUE BIRD.



And he did so. Florine had uttered but a few words ere

the king recognized her voice. Scarcely daring to trust his
250
THE BLUE BIRD.
senses he hastened by a back staircase to the Cabinet of
Echoes.. There he found Florine, arrayed in a robe of light
silk which she wore under her coarse disguise. The moment
he saw her, Charmant flung himself at her feet, bathed her
hands with his tears, and felt ready to die with mingled joy,
grief, and the multitude of different thoughts that rushed at
once into his mind.

He and Florine soon mutually explained and_ justified
themselves to each other. Their affection was redoubled
and all that embarrassed them was the fairy Soussio. But at
this moment the enchanter who was so fond of the king ar-
rived with a famous fairy, who was none other than she who
gave the three eggs to Florine. The enchanter and the fairy
declared that their power being united in favor of the king
and Florine, Soussio could do nothing against them, and that
their marriage, consequently, might take place without delay.

As soon as it was day, the news spread throughout the
palace, and everybody was delighted to see Florine. The
tidings reached Truitonne, and she ran to the king's apart-
ment. The moment she opened her mouth to abuse Florine,
the enchanter and the fairy transformed her into a pig. She
ran out of the room grunting, and thence into the kitchen
courtyard, where the peals of laughter with which she was
greeted completed her despair. ,

King Charmant and Queen Florine, delivered from so
odious an enemy, now thought only of the wedding féte, the
taste and magnificence of which were equally conspicuous.

It is easy to conceive how great was their happiness after
passing through such prolonged misfortunes.

251
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.

DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAE





DAME TROT was out walking one very fine day,
And close by her side went her nimble dog, Tray,

When all of a sudden she heard such a sound

Of somebody crying, she had to look ’round.

And what do you think she beheld, the good soul ?
Why, a dear little kitten as black as a coal,

That looked in her face with a pitiful “ Miew!”

As if it said, “ Please let me go home with you.”

Dame Trot took the kitten up close in her arms,

And stroked it, and quieted down its alarms,

And soon it was purring quite happy enough,

And the Dame said, « Why, puss, youre as good as a muff!”

252
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.



*““ PLEASE LET ME GO HOME WITH YOU.”

253
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.

So Muff was the name that she gave to the cat,
For she found it would readily answer to that,
And when it lay curled on the floor in a fluff
It really and truly looked just like a muff.

‘T'was the cunningest kitten that ever you saw,
With a little white mitten on each little paw,
And a little white collar of fur ‘round its neck,
That never was seen with a stain or a speck.

Now Tray was as jealous as jealous could be,

For the pet of the household he wanted to be,

And he growled at Miss Muff when she wanted to play,
And said very plainly, “ Keep out of my way!”

But Puss was forgiving and kind, it is true,

Nor wanted to fight as so many cats do,

So she humped up her back like a
camel, and went

To her place on the rug, where she
slept quite content.




Dame Trot fed her cat on the nicest of milk,
Til its fine suit of fur was as glossy as silk,

And Pussy was grateful, so neat and so nice,
“She soon rid the house of the rats and the mice.

One morning Dame Trot went off early to town,
To buy her some tea, and a calico gown,
And she said as she parted from Muff and from ray,

“ Now be very good children while I am away.”
254
DAME TROT AND ITER COMICAL CAT.

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“DAME TROT FED HER CAT ON THE NICEST OF MILK.”

255
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.

The dog said “ Bow-wow,” and the cat said “ Miew-miew,”
Just as if every word that was spoken they knew,

And Dame Trot went away with a smile on her face,
Quite sure that no robbers would enter her place.

And when she came back what a sight met her eyes!
She lifted her hands, and exclaimed with surprise ;
For there on the floor—each as light as a feather—
The cat and the dog she saw dancing together !



































































Now kittens and children, said worthy Dame Trot,
Should always improve in their manners. Why not?
And that Tray and Miss Muff might learn all they were able,

They each had a chair at their mistress’s table.

Muff daintily ate from a nice china dish,

And helped herself freely to oysters and fish,

And out of a saucer of milk drank her fill,

And was careful indeed lest a drop she should spill.

256
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.







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DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.



One day when the ground was all covered with snow,
Puss begged to go out, but the Dame said “ No, nol
Youll get your feet wet, and then sick you will be,
And have to drink gallons of strong catnip tea.”

But Pussy sat up as you wouldn't suppose,

And wagged her fore-paws alongside of her nose,

Till the Dame, much more ready to laugh than to scold,
Said, “Go out then; but mind you come in when youre cold!”

How Pussy did frolic and flourish around

In the snow, that was not very deep on the ground !
Now sliding off here, and then capering there,

And tossing the white flakes up high in the air.

Then over and over she rolled with delight,

Till her coat was all spotted with patches of white,
And played in this way till, beginning to tire,

She was glad to come back to her place by the fire.

258 ‘
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.



Now puss had a doll that Dame
Trot bought to please her, —

And gave it the beautiful name of Louisa,

And when Kitty was lonesome or wanted to play,

She'd ery for Loo! Loo! in a comical way.



Vhe dollic was petted, was kissed
and caressed,

Though often quite roughly it must
be confessed,

And so pleased was Miss Puss with
Louisa’s fair charms,

She took her cat-naps with the doll
in her arms.

Sometimes Master Tray would
growl underneath

His breath, and get angry, and
show his white teeth,

259


DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.
And all because Pussy, so graceful and slim,
At play with her doll, took no notice of him.

And once, I remember, oh, sad was the day,
The cat answered back in an impudent way,
And Tray was so jealous, the two had a fight,
And between them the doll was a terrible fright.



In a closet the catnip was kept on a shelf,

And Puss, though quite handy at helping herself,

Had been taught by Dame Trot better manners than that,
And was really a very remarkable cat.

l-or when she was ill



as was sometimes the case—
She'd go to Dame Trot, and look up in her face,
Then run to the closet, and scratch on the door

Till some of the catnip was thrown on the floor.

Dame Trot made a nice little dress for the cat,
All covered with ribbons and lace, and all that,
And a Normandy cap with the crown in a puff,
That was very becoming indeed to Miss Muff.

260








DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.

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And when she was dressed she would sit in a chair,
And look all around with a ladylike air,

Through a pair of large spectacles over her nose,
And she cut a fine figure, as you may suppose.

Dame Trot was well known, and her cat had great fame,
And children to visit them frequently came,

For though in their houses they had playthings enough,
They were much more amused by the antics of Muff.

She was better than any fine doll they possessed,
When in the long clothes like a babe she was dressed ;
And in the dolls’ carriage they took her to drive,
Delighted to know that the child was alive.

Sometimes they would get up a circus, and play

For hours at a time with the cat and dog Tray,
261
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.
And such comical tricks would these animals do,
That the children all laughed, and the grown people too.

Puss would jump through a ring with
astonishing grace,

Or ride on Tray’s back at a runaway
pace,

Or swing in the air from a rope they
let down,

While Tray was performing the part of
a clown.



But Dame Trot was not willing her
dog or her cat

Should day after day be so foolish as that,

For children and animals need to be taught

That others grow weary of seeing them sport.

So she bought them some books and
she taught them to spell,

And really and truly they did very
well,

For soon they found out, after
many a spat,

D-O-G spelt dog, and C-A-T
spelt cat.



Muff learned in good season to make up her bed,

And was clever at baking both biscuits and bread ;

She could sweep, she could dust, and take care of her room,
As if all her life she’d been used to a broom.

262

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DAME TROT ANDO HER COMICALICAL:



















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“SHE COULD SWEEP, SHE COULD DUST, AND TAKE CARE OF HER ROOM.”

, 268
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.
But Puss had one fault; she was fond of fine clothes,
And at poorly dressed people would turn up her nose;
And she studied the fashions and styles of the day,
And thought of them oft in her dreams, I daresay.

So one day when Dame Trot had gone out for a walk,
With her friends and her neighbors to have a good talk,
Puss dressed herself up in her best hat and feather,
And she and dog Tray left the cottage together.

Dame Trot coming home from her visit that day,
As the weather was fine took a roundabout way,
And turning a corner she nearly fell flat

With surprise, at beholding her dog and her cat.

For Tray was the pony; and there on his back,

Sat pretty Miss Muff in her fine suit of black ;

And the Dame with her laughter so long and so loud
In a very few moments attracted a crowd.

“ You're.a very great lady, Miss Pussy, said she;

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Or it sounded like that, for it never would do

For one in such grandeur to utter a Miew.

And Puss gave a simperin

But Tray was uneasy and restless the while,
For he wasn’t much giving to putting on style,
And though pretty Pussy he could but admire,

To welcome his mistress was now his desire.
264


DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.












































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“YOU NE’ER SAW A CREATURE SO CRUSHED AND FORLORN.”

pe ere
DAME TROT AND HER COMICAL CAT.

So he sprang to the side of Dame Trot with a leap,
And down went the pussy-cat all in a heap,

And her flounces and feathers were dragged and torn,
You ne'er saw a creature so crushed and forlorn.

“Dear Puss,” said Dame Trot, “’tis the love of fine clothes,
That brings on good people one half of their woes,

And sooner or later you're certain to find

That pride has a fall of the very worst kind.

“ You're a beautiful cat, and I'm free to confess,

You please me the most in your natural dress ;”

And Puss, looking just as if ready to speak,

Raised a velvety paw, and then stroked the Dame’s cheek.

Dame Trot held the kitten awhile in her lap
Where it had an exceedingly comforting nap,
Then giving Miss Pussy another good hug,
She settled her down on the cushion so snug.

“Tm tired and sleepy,” the good woman said,

“ And''tis time, I am sure, that we all went to bed:

So good night!” said Dame Trot. “Bow-wow!” said dog Tray.
“ Miew-miew !” said the cat. And they slept till next day.



267
BLUE BEARD.

BLUE BEARD.



A LONG time ago, there lived a man who was very rich.

He owned vast tracts of fertile land, and dwelt in a
splendid castle, which contained everything beautiful and
luxurious that money could buy. He had a multitude of
servants, and his horses and carriages were fine and numer-
ous enough for a king.

But although this man was blessed with so much wealth,
he was so ill-looking that he was an object of fear and dread
to the people among whom he lived. His face was stern
and forbidding, his eyes deep-set and fierce-looking, and these,
with his remarkable beard, of a dark blue color, made the
people far and near dislike him, and call him old Blue Beard.

Not many miles from Blue Beard’s castle, there lived a
lady who had two very beautiful daughters. ‘The reports
of the beauty of these two sisters reached Blue Beard, and»
he heard of them so often that he began to take a great
interest in the two young ladies, until at last he made up his
mind to visit their mother, and ask one of them in marriage.

He was politely received by their mother, and made his
proposal. They were both so lovely, he said, that he would
be-happy to get either for his wife, and would therefore leave
it for her and her daughters to choose which it should be.
But both Miss Anne, and her sister Fatima, when their
mother told them the object of Blue Beard’s visit, declared
they would never marry an ugly man, nor, above all, one

with such a frightful blue beard. Besides, it was talked over
208
BLUE BEARD.











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BLUE BEARD FORBIDS FATIMA TO ENTER THE BLUE CLOSET,

269
BLUE BEARD. |
the country that Blue Beard had already married several
very beautiful ladies, and yet nobody could tell what had
become of them. Not to be rude, however, they told their
mother to say that they had no desire to change their lot, and
if they had, neither would think of depriving the other of so
good a match. When their mother delivered this answer
to Blue Beard, he sighed deeply and went away, feigning to
feel very sad. But as their mother was on his side, he did
not give up all hope. :

Knowing the attraction that fine houses, fine furniture, and
‘fine dinners have for ladies in general, Blue Beard invited
the mother, her two daughters, and two or three other ladies
who were visiting them, to spend a day or two at his castle,
and they accepted his invitation.

Blue Beard entertained his guests in such princely style,
that the time glided by very pleasantly till a week had passed.
Kindness and politeness, even when shown by a very ugly .
person, seldom fail to please; and it was therefore no wonder
that Fatima, the youngest of the two sisters, began to tuink
Blue Beard a very well-bred, kind, and civil gentleman, and
that the beard, which she and her sister had been so much
afraid of, was not so blue after all.

In fact, so completely had Blue Beard’s polite attentions
removed her previous dislike for him, that shortly after her
return home she told her mother that she would now be
willing to accept him as her husband. Her mother imme-
diately sent word to Blue Beard of the change in her daugh-
ter’s feelings. He lost no time in paying a visit to the family,
—and in a few days was privately married to Fatima.

He took his bride home at once to his castle, and her sister
270
7 BLUE BEARD.
Anne went with her. A month was given up to festivity
in honor of the marriage, and the time passed away like a
dream. At the end of it, Blue Beard told his wife that he
was obliged to leave her for a few weeks, as he had some
affairs to attend to in a distant part of the country.

“But, my dear Fatima,” said he, “you can enjoy yourself
in my absence, in any way that you please. Youcan give
dinners, and invite your friends to visit you, for you are the
sole mistress in this castle. Here are the keys of the two
large wardrobes, this is the key of the great box which con-
tains the best plate; this of my strong box where I keep my
money; and this belongs to the casket where I keep my jew-
els. Here is a master-key to all the rooms in the house, but
this small key belongs to the Blue Closet, at the end of the
long hall, on the ground floor. I give you leave,” he con-
tinued “to open or do what you fe with all of the castle,
except this closet; but this, my dear, you must not enter,
nor even put the key into its lock. Now, do not forget, for
if you fail to obey me, you must expect the most dresditl
punishment. ”

Fatima promised not to forget, and Blue Beard, after kiss-
ing her in a tender manner, fond into his coach and was
eee away.

As soon as he was gone, Fatima sent word to her friends
to come without delay and make her a visit. She also sent
a note to her two brothers, both officers in the army, asking
them to obtain a leave of absence, and spend a few days
with her.

Her brothers wrote to her that they would arrive the next
day. So eager, however, were her other friends to see the

272
BLUE BEARD.





















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278
PLUE BEARD.
riches of Blue Beard, that they all came within two hours.
They went from room to room, showing fresh wonder and
admiration at every new object they beheld.

During the day, Fatima was so busy that she never once
thought of the Blue Closet, but when all the guests were
gone, she felt a great desire to know what it contained. She
took out the key, and went down the stairs that led to it.
On reaching the door, she stopped, and began to reason with
herself, and her heart failed her, for she knew she was not
doing right. But her desire to know about the closet grew
stronger each moment, and at last she put the key into the
lock and opened the door.

She walked into the closet a few steps, and there saw a
horrible sight. She was in the midst of blood, and hanging
around the walls were the bodies of the former wives of Blue
Beard whom he had slain.

Fatima trembled like a leaf, and the key slipped from her
fingers and fell on the floor. It was some moments before
she could recover strength enough to pick it up, and fly from
the place, after locking the door.

Observing the key to be stained with blood, she tried to —
wipe it off, but the blood would not come out. In vain did
she try washing and scouring, the blood still remained, for
the key was a magic one, the gift of a fairy to Blue Beard.

Early next day, Blue Beard suddenly arrived home, say-—
ing he had received news which made his intended journey
unnecessary. He asked Fatima for his keys, and she gave
them to him, all except the one to the Blue Closet. He
looked them over, and then said, “ How is it that the key of
the Blue Closet is not here ?” i

274
BLUE BEARD.













FATIMA VAINLY BEGS FOR MERCY.
BLUE BEARD.

“T must have left it inmy room,” said she.

“ Bring it to me at once, then,” said Blue Beard.

The poor wife, feeling that the end was near at hand,
went and got the key, and brought it to her husband. He
looked at it a moment, and then burst into a terrible rage.
“Pray, madam,” said he, “how came this blood to be here?”

“T am sure I do not know,” said Fatima, turning very
pale. se

“You do not know?” said Blue Beard, in a voice like thun-
der. “J know full well. You have been in the Blue Closet.
And since you are so fond of prying into secrets, you shall
take up your abode with the ladies you saw there!”

Almost dead with terror, Fatima sank upon her knees:
and entreated him in the most piteous manner to forgive her.
But the cruel Blue Beard, deaf to her cries, drew his sword
and bade her prepare for death at once.

She begged that he would at least allow her a short time
to pray. “1 will sive you half an’ hour, said’ Blue Beard,
in a harsh voice, “and no more.” Then he left the room.

As soon as he left her, Fatima ran to her sister, and told
her, as well as she could for her sobs, that she had but half
an hour to live, and asked her to go to the top of the tower
and see if there were no signs of their brothers’ coming.

Her sister did so, and the poor trembling girl below cried
out from time to time, “Sister Anne, my dear sister Anne,
do you see any one coming yet?” Her sister always replied
“No, I see no one; I see naught but the sun which makes a
dust, and the grass which is green:

At last hey heard the angry voice of Blue Beard, who.
cried out, “Are you ready? the time is up.” Fatima begged.

276
BLUE BEARD.

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BLUE BEARD.
for five minutes more, which he, knowing she was wholly at
nissimerey, cranted —latima then called acaim toler cicter
“Sister Anne, do you see any one coming yet?”

Her sister replied as before, “I see nothing but the sun
which makes a dust, and the grass which 1s green.”

Quickly the five minutes ed away, and thon the voice of
Blue Beard was heard calling “ Are you ready yet?”

Again she piteously eee for a brief delay, only two
minutes longer. Then cs ey “Anne, sister Anne, do
you not see some one now?”

“T see,” said her sister, “a cloud of dust on the left-hand
side of the road, not far off.” :

“Do you think it is our brothers?” said the wife.

“ Alas, no, dear sister,’ said Anne, as the cloud of dust
drew near; “it is only a flock of sheep.”

Once more Blue Beard’s terrible voice was heard, and the
poor wife begged again for a minute’s delay. Then she
called out for the last time, “ Sister Anne, do you see any
one coming yet ?”

Her sister quickly answered, “I see two men on horseback,
but they are still a great way off.”

“Thank Heaven!” cried Fatima, “it must be our brothers.
Make every signal in your power, dear sister, for them to
lose no time.”

Even as she spoke, Blue Beard was heard pounding at
the door, and in his fury he burst it open, and aimed a blow
at the wretched girl as she knelt on the floor. But she sprang
forward close to him, and the blow passed over her head.
Wild at being thus foiled in his aim, the furious man seized

her by the hair, and was about to strike the fatal blow, when
278
BLUE BEARD.































DEATH OF BLUE BEARD.

279
BLUE BEARD.

a loud noise, as of persons coming with hasty strides, caused
him to stop and listen. Almost at the same moment, the
door flew open, and two officers, with drawn swords, rushed
into the room. Struck with terror, Blue Beard turned to fly,
but he had gone only a few paces before Fatima’s brothers,
for it was they, had both plunged their swords into his body,
and he fell dead.

Fatima had fallen into a an at the time Blue Beard
seized her by the hair, and she lay so pale and lifeless that
one would have thought that she was dead too. But she re-
covered her senses, and then she could scarcely believe that

she was safe, and that her cruel husband had met the death ~

he so richly merited. But there he lay, stark and cold, and
by her side were her sister Anne, and her dear brothers
whose coming had saved her from a horrible death.

As Blue Beard had no relations, Fatima was sole heir to
the whole of his vast wealth, and mistress of the castle. She
sent notices to all the families living near the castle, telling
them of the death of Blue Beard, and laid open the proofs of
his cruelty for two days to all who chose to view them.

Though thus made the owner of riches almost without
limit, Fatima used them with’such good judgment that she
gained the love of every one who knew her. She gave each
of her brothers a fine castle, with money enough to enable
him to live in comfort, and to her sister, who was married
shortly afterward, she gave a large dowry. She herself be-
came, in due time, the wife of a young nobleman, whose

kind treatment soon made her forget Blue Beard’s cruelty.
230

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