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Citation |
- Permanent Link:
- https://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00082540/00001
Material Information
- Title:
- Daisy days bright stories and pictures for little folks
- Creator:
- DeWolfe, Fiske & Co. (Boston, Mass.) ( Publisher )
S.J. Parkhill & Co ( Printer )
- Place of Publication:
- Boston
- Publisher:
- De Wolfe Fiske & Co.
- Manufacturer:
- S.J. Parkhill & Co.
- Publication Date:
- [1893?]
- Language:
- English
- Physical Description:
- 1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 25 cm.
Subjects
- Subjects / Keywords:
- Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh ) Children's stories ( lcsh ) Children's poetry ( lcsh ) Children's stories -- 1893 ( lcsh ) Children's poetry -- 1893 ( lcsh ) Bldn -- 1893
- Genre:
- Children's stories
Children's poetry poetry ( marcgt )
- Spatial Coverage:
- United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
- Target Audience:
- juvenile ( marctarget )
Notes
- General Note:
- Date of publication from inscription.
- Statement of Responsibility:
- by favorite authors ; illustrated in color and half tone engravings.
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:
- 026619675 ( ALEPH )
ALG3571 ( NOTIS ) 214285133 ( OCLC )
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Full Text |
Boston, De Wolfe, Fiske & Co
A GREAT SECRET.
LITTLE Kitten said to me,
As I passed by the apple-tree:
“Please, have you seen my Mistress, sir?
I’m playing hide-and-seek with her.â€
And as I passed the mulberry bush,
A little maiden whispered, “Hush!
If you should see my Pussy, dear,
You must not say you've seen me here.â€
So in my breast, secure and deep,
This awful secret I must keep.
But don’t you think, Miss What’s-Your-Name,
Youd better hide behind the frame,
Or else [ have but little doubt
That Pussy soon will find you out.
STR
IN: THE. HAY.
VER the hills, farmer,
Over the hills away;
There’s some one out in your hay, farmer,
‘Been there since break of day.
*Tis not the hare or rabbits, farmer;
*Tis not the birds so gay;
But there’s some one out in your hay, farmer,
Been there since break of day.
*Tis only three little folk, farmer,
Tony, and Dot, and May, .
Picking the flowers in your hay, farmer,
In your hay since break of day. ’
Don’t drive them away, farmer,
Those little birdies three;
They’ll make the hay more sweet, farmer,
More sweet for you and me.
:
THE TWO DICKS.
HERE are two Dicks in this story, and one Dot. Dot was a pretty
little girl; one of the Dicks was a nice little boy, and the other Dick
was a funny l'ttle dog. They lived in a lovely farm-house, not very
‘far from the seaside.
Of course the children were very fond of the sea, and bathing, and
watching the ships as they sailed by on their way to foreign countries. But
I am sorry to say that Dick, the doggie, disliked the sea, hated having his
bath, and took no interest whatever in the passing ships; they might all be
going to Timbuctoo for all he cared, and might stop there into the bargain; Cees
and I’m sorry to say that Dick, the little boy, disliked going to school just as
much as Dick, the doggie, objected to having his bath. “Shan’t go to
school! Shan’t!†he cried one day.
But Dot heard him, and asked him,
so prettily, to come and sit by her while
she taught him to read and write his own
name, that Dick couldn’t be naughty any
longer.
Now it so happened that Dick, the
doggie, heard Dick, the little boy, say
“Shan’t,†and he thought he would say it,
too, in his own language.
“Shan’t have my bath! Shan’t !’
he said, on the day he was to have his
weekly bath. ep go and live with the
little girl who keeps a kitten; she never puts it into the water.â€
THE TWO DICKS.
But Dot took Dick, the doggie, in her arms and petted him. But as
soon as he saw the water he began to struggle, so that Dot dropped him,
and he fell plump into the sea. Then out he jumped. and away he ran, and
the children after him. _
Away he ran until he came to a field, and then he popped into a
rabbit-hole. And, terrible to tell, although he had popped in he couldn’t
pop out again; he had got fixed in that rabbit-hole.
Away ran Dot to the farm.
“ Father! Mother! Dick’s down a rabbit-hole, and can’t get out.â€
Both the farmer and his wife turned pale, for they thought at first it
was Dick, their little son. But as soon as they knew which Dick it was
they laughed, and the farmer took a spade and dug the doggie out.
Dick always took his bath properly after this, and became just as
good a little dog, as the other Dick was a good little boy.
Edric Vredenburg.
ERE am I,
Mother’s little daughter,
With my petticoats high,
To keep them dry,
And. my feet in the. cool
green water!
ag DICK’S ‘BATH,
THE CHILD'S
DESIRE.
THINK, when I read that sweet story
of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How He called little children as lambs
to His fold,
I should like to have been with them i
then. or
I wish that His hands had been placed on my head,
That His arms had been thrown around me,
And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,
“Let the little ones come unto Me.â€
But still to His footstool in prayer I may go,
_ And ask for a share in His love;
And if I thus earnestly seek Him below,
I shall see Him and hear Him above,
In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare
For all that are washed and forgiven;
And many dear children are gathering there,
“For of such is the kingdom of heaven.â€
Mrs. Luke.
HOW DOTH THE LITTLE BUSY BEE.
OW doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining - hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower !
How skilfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labors hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.
In works of labor or of. skill,
I would be busy, too,
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.
In books, or work, or healthful play,
Let my first years be past,
That I may give for every day
Some good account at last.
Isaac Watts,
a
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
HERE was dead silence in the
nursery, which was very unu-
sual; but then a very, unusual
thing had happened. It was Chitist-
mas morning, and the dull, gray light —
was coming in at every chink of the
curtained windows, showing the com-
fortable room, with the two little
cribs, and Nurse’s bed, with the
clothes all huddled up instead of
being neatly folded back as usual,
the night-light looking very small
and insignificant, but sufficient to
show three empty stockings hanging
by the fireplace.
Mary and Dorothy had jumped
out of bed directly they woke, and
rushed to the stockings. Dick had
come hurrying in from his own little
room next door, and there they all stood, with wide open eyes and bare
feet, shivering on the rug, feeling that something dreadful must have
happened.
“Santa Claus has forgotten,†said Mary.
“ Fordotten,†echoed Dorothy. ‘She had so few ideas of her own
that she drew largely upon Mary.
“T don’t believe there is any Santa Claus at all,†cried Dick,
defiantly. “So there, now!†But Mary was too despondent to accept
the challenge. ee
* Are you quite, gute sure it is Christmas Day?†she answered,
earnestly, “ not eve, or that sort of thing? Did Mother say so?â€
“Why, of course she did,†said Dick. “Stupid! how could we
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
have known it, if she hadn’t? Just the very last thing at dessert. ‘Don’t
Sorget your stockings!’ You know she did.â€
“Yes, Dick, I know.â€
But all the same, Dick went on recklessly crushing his little sister’s
faith.
“I bet you anything there isn’t any Santa Claus, and he does not
come down the chimney and I believe Mother fills our stockings with her
own hands.â€
“ With her own hands?†said Mary, gazing incredulously at Dick,
standing on the hearthrug in his night-shirt, and trying not to shiver.
“Yes, her own self,†went on Dick, pleased with the sensation he
had caused. “So I shall just go back to bed.’
“But it gueaked,†said Dorothy, suddenly.
“What squeaked?†demanded Dick.
“Santa Claus, Dick.â€
“And when did he gueak?†with supreme contempt.
“Oh, about eleven hundred o’clock, when he was in the chimney,
and it was quite dark.â€
“Perhaps he’s caught some-
where,†said Mary, in a whisper.
“Oh, poor thing, perhaps he’s stuck!
Don’t you think—oh, don’t you
think, Dick, we’d better go and ask
Mother?â€
“Oh, bosh! You girls!†said
Dick. “Well, yes, do as you like; not
that I believe a word about all that —
that’s gammon! but a fellow doesn’t
like to be done out of his presents
on Christmas Day.â€
“J think Dorothy had better
go,†said Mary. “Vl wrap her up
warm, and she can go to Mother’s
room, and then she’ll meet Nurse, or
Mary Anne, or some one.â€
“He queaked,†said Dorothy again, evidently very important about
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
the sensation she had produced, but unable to rise above that one utterance
that. had taxed all her intellect. :
Mary went down on her knees, and drew the little stockings and
shoes on to the cold feet. Then she put on Dorothy’s own. red dressing-
gown, and Nurse’s white shawl, because it was rather fun dressing Dolly
up; and then, with great solemnity, they handed her the three empty stock-
ings, and opened the nursery door.
“Why, Miss Dorothy,†said Mary Anne, aghast at the little figure in
the yellow sunlight on the stairs. ‘Whatever will Nurse say? You just
go right up again—the stairs being that damp you'll catch your death.â€
“Oh, but ’m on a message,†said Dorothy, seriously. 2
“Well, Nurse’ll just message you if she sees you,†said Mary,
vaguely; “so you’d better hurry—it’s as cold as charity.†°
- Dorothy clambered down another flight to the level of Mother’s
room. E Nes
It seemed very quiet. There was no sound except the sound of
Mary Anne’s broom swishing down the stairs, and her heavy breathing as
she followed it. Dorothy found it a little oppressive, and thought it would
be better to go back; and at that moment Mother’s door was softly opened,
and a strange lady came out.
*
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
“Why, little Miss,†said the strange lady, kindly, “are you looking
for Nurse? She’s just run down to the kitchen for a cup of tea, but she’ll
be up in a minute; and you mustn’t catch cold, you know, and add to all the
worries of this lee Christmas Day.â€
“Pm looking for Santa Claus,†said Dorothy, softly.
“Why, bless the child!†said the strange lady, with a laugh.
“What a little pet! Santa Claus has been very busy, my dear, this night.
He’s caught and caged — that’s what he is; but he’s not forgotten you.
_ He’ll be down the chimney to-night, as sure as smoke.â€
The strange lady nodded, still laughing, and then went softly back
into Mother’s room.
Dorothy’s heart swelled. She had never been shut out before —
never! and the door always opened to her little fingers. She did not know
what to do, but she would ‘go into the dressing-room, at any rate, and
perhaps that would be-open. If she called softly, she knew Mother would
come.
Fortunately, the dressing-room door was ajar. She pushed it gently,
and then harder, until it was wide open, and she stood in the great flood of
light that poured in through the window and dazzled her.
In the fireplace was a blazing fire, with a kettle on it, and, beside
the fire, what looked to Dorothy like a blue-and-white nest, with a bird in
it. She knew at once, by instinct, what it was! Not a bird at all, — she
was not quite so silly as that, — but Santa cae A little baby Santa Claus
“taught and tagedâ€! cee es
Here she was at the heart of the secret, and her heart expanded with
delight. Zhzs was worth everything — the laborious journey downstairs,
the loneliness, the fear, the cold, the ignorance that shut her out from
Mother’s room. Santa Claus was not an old man at all, as Dick had always
said, but a little, soft, rosy thing, with a fringe of hair, and wide blue eyes
that stared back at Dorothy when she stared at him.
“What a pretty thing!†said Dorothy, touching his face.
She stooped a little lower, and put her own soft cheek against the
soft cheek on the pillow, and then she turned her head and kissed him.
“You's like my doll,†she: said.
But Santa Claus had wrinkled up his face, and was looking quite ugly.
He was not accustomed to being kissed. He puckered his forehead, and
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
squeezed his eyes together, and wriggled in his shawl in the most unpleasant
way, and then he burst out into an unmistakable cry. Dorothy stood spell-
bound. It was the same noise she had heard before, so every doubt was
cleared up.
“You gueaked again,†she said, solemnly. She held her dressing-
gown tight about her, because Mary had forgotten to button it, and it kept
tumbling open; then she walked
softly away, and hurried up the
wide shallow stairs as quickly
as she could.
At the sound of the little
cry, the Nurse peeped into the
dressing-room, and came hastily
to the fire.
“This is some of that
Mary Anne’s work, [ll be
bound,†she said crossly, “leav-
ing the door ajar like that! Ivll
be a wonder if the child hasn’t
got inflammation of its lungs
by now —hasn’t you, my pretty
pet? There, now, don’t cry! You'll be as warm as a toast soon.â€
But Santa Claus only grumbled a little in reply.
Meanwhile, Dorothy was trudging slowly upstairs, her little mind full
of the marvels she had seen. She was panting so much — for Dorothy was
rather a fat baby— that she could not speak for some minutes after Dick
and Mary had pulled her into the nursery and pushed her down into her
own chair.
“J seen him,†she said at last after she had got her breath.
“What? Who— Mother? Oh, tell us, Dolly!†cried Mary, in
supreme impatience. -
* "No—Santa Claus,†said Dorothy, sitting upright, and eae
with extreme solemnity, “taught and taged,†repeating her little formula.
And then she added, with a glow of ‘happy recollection, “Thet a pztty
{>
thing!
“But where was he?†cried Mary. “Oh, Dorothy dear, speak
» x >
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
quicker! Is he up the chimney? Dick, did you hear? She saw
him.†.
“] hear,†said Dick, trying to whistle in an unconcerned way. “I
don’t believe it— at least,†with a quick look round, “I don’t think I do.
Dolly’s such a silly, she’d believe anything.â€
“But he gueaked again,†said Dolly, almost in tears.
“ Did you see the presents? I'd believe you then.â€
* No,†said Dorothy, sorrowfully, shaking her head.
© There’s Nurse,†said Mary, suddenly jumping to her feet. “ Dick
dear, don’t shiver, please; try and look warm. Jump up and down off the
bed. I shall ask Nurse the minute she comes in.â€
There was a sound like the puffing of a steam-engine, getting nearer
and nearer, until at last it was quite near the nursery door; a great many
groans, and grumbles, and heavy breaths, as the door was thrown open, and
poor Nurse appeared, panting, on the threshold. Her face was crimson,
and her apron was held up by one corner, and out of it there bulged all
sorts of queer corners and colored parcels, and legs and arms of animals.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, and tumbled everything out into a
heap.
“There they all are!†she said; “and the name’s on every blessed
one! Just wait a minute, loves, until 1 get my
breath, and am more like a living woman than
a grampus, and I'll tell you all your Mamma
said. She hopes you haven’t been disappointed
about the stockings. Santa Claus, she says, had
other work to do, and has brought the loveliest
present that’s ever been brought into this house
on Christmas Day—God bless it! But he.
stopped to give it to your Mamma, it seems,
which is why he never got so far.â€
“A present for Mother?†said. Mary,
with wide-open eyes. “Oh, what is it?â€
© Well, you’re to guess,†said Nurse,
laughing; “but T’ll help you a bit. It’s a live present, and its something
for you all; and Miss Dolly there, bless her, isn’t the baby no longer.â€
“Why, I know!†said Dick. He gave a funny laugh. “Oh, Dolly, I
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT. |
know what your Santa Claus was! What a silly you are! Don’t you know
a baby when you see it? A live thing, Mary, she said, you know, and by
Mother’s fire.â€
“A baby!†cried Mary, breathlessly. “A little ducky, darling baby
in a cradle! Oh, Dorothy, didn’t you guess? â€
“Well, well,†said Nurse. “So my secret’s out, is it? Just get into
your clothes as quickly as you can, and Pll take. you in to peep at it.â€
“Well, you were a stupid, Dolly,†said Dick, as he ran away.
“But it gueaked,†said Dolly, tearfully. “I never knew a baby
queaked before.â€
Geraldine Butt.
OWN in a green and shady bed
A modest Violet grew;
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,
As if to hide from view.
And it was a lovely flower,
Its color bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower
Instead of hiding there.
Yet thus it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed,
And there diffused its sweet perfume
Within the silent shade.
Then let me to the valley go,
This pretty flower to see,
That 1 may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.
BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES.
UTTERCUPS and Daisies;
B Oh, the pretty flowers !
Coming ere the Spring-time,
To tell of sunny hours.
While the trees are leafless,
While the fields are bare,
Buttercups and Daisies ,
Spring up everywhere.
Ere the Snowdrop peepeth,
Ere the Crocus bold,
Ere the early Primrose
Opes its paly gold,
Somewhere on a sunny bank
_ Buttercups are bright,
Somewhere on a sunny bank
Peeps the Daisy white.
Welcome, yellow Buttercups !.
Welcome, ‘Daisies white !
Ye are in my spirit
Visioned, a delight!
Coming ere the Spring-time,
Of sunny hours to tell,
Speaking to our hearts of Him
Who doeth all things well.
BUSY KITTIE.
OOD-MORNING, Cousin Kittie,
Youre busy now, I see,
And so I must not ask you
To come and play with me.
“But if you hasten, Kittie, “Oh, yes, said little Kittie,
Your work will soon be done, I'd like to go and_ play
For see, the rain is over, When I have cut the apples
And brightly shines the sun.†To make a pie to-day.
“But, first, I want to water,
My plants, on window-seat,
And place. them in the sunshine,
The cheerful rays to meet.â€
“PUT DOWN ONE AND CARRY. ONE.â€
HEN I do my sums in school,
I remember but one rule:
When eleven’s to be done,
* Put down one and carry one.â€
That sounds very queer to me;
I don’t care for sums, you see;
It’s not my idea of fun,
* Put down one and carry one.â€
I brought home, the other day,
Two dear puppies, black and gray,
From my uncle Robert’s farm,
_ Carrying one dog in each arm.
When I reached the stream, I thought,
*Oh, what heavy dogs I’ve brought!
I can never cross, I see;
They are quite too much for me!â€
And I dared not let one go—
It might run away, you know;.
The one set down away will run,
If you only carry one.
So I took them both across;
We were all so tired and. cross! _
Perhaps I should have better done
To put down one and carry one.
But I “did not know, I own,
_ Which to carry, which set down,
Sol carried both with pains;
ee. I took two—and naught remains.
CAPTAIN FACK.
ee OOD news! Good news!†cried
Aunt Ida, as she came into the
nursery, waving a letter in her
hand. “Come, Mabel and Jack, there’s a
kiss for the one who guesses first what
it is.â€
“Uncle Will has sent me a pony,â€
guessed Jack.
“No,†said Mabel, who was older
“it’s a letter
from India. Aunty! Are Papa and
and wiser than her brother;
Mamma coming home?â€
“Yes!†said Aunt Ida, as she kissed her niece. “ You’ve guessed ©
right. Papa’s regiment is ordered back to England, and they’ll be home in
less than a fortnight.†.
The children listened eagerly while their Aunt read them the letter;
but when she described the big ship they were coming home in, and how the
soldiers of the gallant 60th would all be longing to see old England again,
and how glad they would be to get back, Jack grew so excited, that he
wanted to start then and there, in old Sam Briney’s fishing-boat, to meet
them.
. Mabel and Jack were the children of Colonel Morton, of the 6oth
Rifles. They had both been born in India, but the hot climate did not suit
them, so they had been sent to England, when quite little babies, to be taken
care of by Aunt Ida, Mrs. Morton’s sister. They had lived a happy life in
the little Devonshire fishing-village where their Aunt resided, and where the
boy was the pet of all the old fishermen, who called him Cap’n Jack, and
made him boats to sail in the pools on the shore.
Colonel Morton and his wife had been expected home a year before,
but a war had broken out, and he had to stay and fight for his country in
Afghanistan. This had been such a disappointment to the children that
Mabel’s black doll, Sambo, had been re-christened the King of Afghanistan,
CAPTAIN JACK.
and Jack had paraded his tin soldiers, and shot Sambo with a toy cannon and
peas every day for a week, till at last the poor black-i-moor had lost his
nose, which vexed Mabel very much.
It was the middle of July, and holiday time, so they had nothing to
do all day but play on the beach, and watch the ships pass in the distance,
and wonder if any of them were bringing their parents home.
Jack was still full of the idea of going to meet them, and had tried to
bribe Sam Briney, the fisherman, with promises of ever so many rides on his
pony when it came, to take him out in his boat, far away over the sea, where
the big ships look like tiny specks.
Wandering over the beach one hot afternoon the children saw a
small boat lying on the sands. It was a pretty, light craft, very different
from the big, dirty fishing-vessels. It belonged to a party of ladies and
gentlemen who had landed from a yacht to visit some ruins in the neighbor-
hood. The name “Sea-swallow†was painted in beautiful gold letters on
the bows, and Jack, who had never seen anything like it before, suggested
that it might be a fairy-boat, and then,
thinking that perhaps such an expres-
sion was not seamanlike enough for
a boy of six, remarked that it was
“a very lively little craft.â€
CAPTAIN JACK.
And Mabel climbed over the sides, and played at going to meet Papa,
and went long voyages with Jack as captain, and Mabel as crew; but by and
by the captain grew tired and went off to sleep, with his head on the crew’s
knee, and the crew kept very quiet, for fear of disturbing him, and at last
went off to sleep as well.
And the tide crept nearer and nearer, and at
last the little waves washed against the “ Sea-swal-
low’s†sides, and the water grew deeper and deeper,
and then the boat floated away from the bed of sand
on which she had been resting, and the sea-gulls flew
round and round screaming, as much as to say,
“Mabel, Jack, wake up, for the boat is drifting out to
sea;†but the captain and the crew slept on.
The sun was setting, and the calm sea shone
like gold, as the troop-ship “Ganges†drew nearer
home. .
There was great excitement on deck, for one
of the seamen had reported that a small boat, without sail or oars, and
with two children in it, was drifting down the channel, about a quarter of
a mile from the ship. Groups of ladies and officers were watching the boat
that had been put off to rescue these little ocean waifs, and in a few minutes
afterwards the children were on deck. Mabel’s eyes were red with crying;
but Jack was bright and fearless as ever.
“Which is Papa?†he asked, gazing at the soldiers.
One of the officers, whom the others addressed as “ Colonel,†stooped
down and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“{ don’t think you'll find your Papa here,†he said.
“Oh, yes, I shall,†answered Jack, with confidence. “Papa and
Mamma are both coming home in a big ship from India; and Mabel and I
got into the boat to play at going to meet them, and I was captain and
Mabel the crew, and we both:went to sleep, and I think it must be a fairy-
boat, after all, for when we woke up there was nothing but sea all round,
-and then Mabel cried, and you know the crew oughtn’t to cry, and then we
saw the ship, and I knew Papa and Mamma were on it, for Aunt Ida said it
would be full of soldiers, and they’d all be glad to get back; and you do look
glad, don’t you?â€
CAPTAIN JACK.
Most of the officers laughed, and called him a plucky little fellow;
but the Colonel only looked surprised, as he asked:
“What did you say your Aunt’s name was?â€
* Aunt Ida,†answered Jack; “but the fishermen call her Miss Lock-
art and me ‘Captain Jack.’â€
The Colonel stood
up and called to one of the , x
ladies. os
“Mary,†he said, .
“come here; I have a sur-
prise for you. Now, little
man, tell the lady your
name, and what you are
doing here.â€
“My name is Jack
Morton, and we’ve come
to meet Papa and Mamma,
who are coming home. ; eA
Papa’s Colonel of the 6oth, - yey
cz, as
and —†ES
But the lady’s arms SS
were round his neck, and
she was kissing him as though ane would never stop.
“You are Mamma, aren’t you?†he asked.
“Yes,†said the Colonel, “ and when she’s done kissing you it will be
my turn, for I am your: Papa.â€
_ How the soldiers laughed and clapped their hands; and what a shout
they gave when one of them proposed, “Three dieeke for Captain Jack.
Three cheers for the Colonel’s boy.â€
“I knew we should meet them,†said ‘Jack, when, a couple of hours
later, Mabel and he were lying half asleep in one of the cabins. “But why
did Papa and Mamma go down on their knees and pray so when they put us
to bed. Papa said he thanked God we had been saved from such great dan-
ger. But there wasn’t any danger, was there?†But Mabel shook her head,
doubtfully. You see the crew was older and wiser than the captain.
R. K. Mounsey.
OUR KITTENS.
EE, our pet pussies
Come to be fed,
Out in the garden,
With nice bits of bread,
Soaked in a saucer
With milk, sweet and new;
Gladly we come when |
We hear their “Mew, mew.â€
Dear little kittens!
You are our pet toys,
To us your wild gambols
Bring ever new joys.
We always will love you,
And when you are old,
We'll still make you happy
And keep you from cold.
ERY high in the pine-tree
The little turtle-dove
Made a pretty nursery,
To please her little love.
She was gentle, she was soft,
And her large, dark eye
Often turned to her mate,
Who was sitting close by.
“Coo!†said the turtle-dove;
“Coo!†said she.
“Oh, I love thee!†said the turtle-dove;
“And I love thee.â€
In the long shady branches
Of the dark pine-tree, —
How happy were the doves
In their little nursery!
The young turtle-doves
Never quarrelled in their nest,
For they dearly loved each other,
Though they loved their mother best.
“Cool†said the little doves;
In this nursery of yours, “Coo!†said she.
Little sister, little brother, And they played together kindly
Like the turtle-dove’s nest, In the dark pine-tree.
Do you love one another?
Are you kind, are you gentle,
As children ought to be?
Then the happiest of nests
Is your own nursery.
Aunt Effie’s Rhymes.
THE FIGHTING FLOWERS.
= \ N J HAT are you staring at, Hodgie?†said Mother, one afternoon,
when she came up to the nursery.
Hodgie was standing at the window, his fat brown hands
clasped behind him, his Holland blouse looking rather bunchy and untidy,
instead of smoothly hanging down straight and neat below his red-leather
belt. And even when he heard his Mother’s voice he scarcely turned
round — only just enough not to seem rude — while he murmured or mut-
tered something about the wind and the flowers. But that tiny glance over
his shoulder was enough to show two things, — that his eyes were red, and
his face very solemn. Nurse gave Mother a look, which meant, “ There’s °
been some stormy weather up here, ma’am.â€
_ And Mother soon saw two other sights. Blanche was sitting in a
dark corner, pretending to be very busy, undressing her doll, and Nora was
not pretending anything at all, but letting the tears run down her cheeks,
while little sobs shook her every now and then, and there was a great big
hole torn in her pretty frilled muslin apron, just at the very front, where it
showed.
Sometimes it’s best not to seem to notice things; but it was no good,
pretending not to see Nora’s right-out crying.
Mother sat down not far from Hodgie and called Nora to her.
““What’s the matter, Nora?†she said. “Is it the tear in your pina-
fore yow’re in trouble about? It ds a pity. How did it happen?†.
At this the little girl burst out into a loud wail. Mother told her she
must not make such a noise, but speak quietly; and then “we'll see what
can be done.†So, after a bit, Nora told her story. It was partly her apron
she was crying about, “’cos Nurse said it were kite a new one,†and partly
alot of other grievances. There had been quite a breeze in the nursery.
“It begunned,†said Nora, “wif Hodgie wanting a doll to be the
queen in his percession. And Blanchie wouldn’t give hers, and she said -
must give mine. And I wouldn’t, cos Hodgie called her names.â€
“Whom?†asked Mother. ‘“ Blanchie?â€
“No; my dolly. He said she was a snub-nose, and he pulled her
nose and nearly brokened it, and he wouldn’t have her for his queen, and I
oy
THE FIGHTING FLOWERS.
catched him, and Blanchie took her dolly out of Hodgie’s arms, and we all
foughtened. And Hodgie gave Blanchie a bad slap, and her said he was a
cow,—not brave you know,—and that made him so angry that he cried,
and then my apron had got tored, and dolly was all scrumpled up, and I
cried, and it was all drefful. Slapping and pushing ‘like bad little tigers
and lions,’ Nora said.†And this long tale of woe was too much for Nora;
she melted into another flood of tears. .
Mother took her up on her
knee. “Come, dear, it’s no good cry-
ing any more. I feel sure Hodgie
and Blanchie are sorry, too. Suppose
you all three have a good making-up,
and kiss each other. It’s no use say-
ing who was worst; put all the wrong
into a bag of forgetfulness together, and
shake it up, and then open the bag
and take out some nice forgivings and
kisses ; that’s far the best plan.â€
The children couidn’t help smil-
ing at Mother’s funny way of putting
things. But they took her advice.
Blanche came out of her corner and
whispered, “Tm very. sorry;†and
Hodgie turned round from his window,
and said, “So am [;†and then the
kisses finished it all off comfortably.
But still the little boy turned towards the window, as if something he
saw there was very interesting.
“What is it you keep looking at so?†asked his Mother.
“It’s the f’owers,†said Hodgie. He was only five. “They does so
seem as if they was fighting —like—like us,†he added, in a very low
voice.
Mother looked out too. It was a windy day, and just on that side of
the house the garden was much exposed. The plants and flowers were
certainly flinging themselves about, and rapping and thumping each other,
rather wildly. She could not help smiling a little at Hodgie’s fancy.
THE FIGHTING FLOWERS.
“I hope the poor flowers didn’t hear what was going on up here, a
few minutes ago,†she said gravely. “It would be such a bad example.â€
Hodgie looked very solemn. Mother
was in fun, of course; but I don’t think he
quite understood that.
Not very long after, she went down,
stairs, having kissed the children for good-
night, for it was near their bedtime.
Hodgie was very quiet while he was be-
ing undressed; the last thing that he did, before
leaving the nursery, was to look out of the win-
dow. Yes, the hitting and slapping and shaking
were still going on; for the wind was rising.
“Tm afraid they did hear,†thought the
little fellow, as he fell asleep.
What was that sound? He heard it~
faintly, then more loudly; then, at last it seemed
to wake him quite up. It was a sound of cry-
ing and weeping, and amidst it he heard his
own name.
“Hodgie, Hodgie, do come down to us! We're so unhappy and so
sore and spoilt, and some of us are torn in pieces; and it’s all your fault.â€
Up jumped Hodgie, rubbing his eyes. Who was speaking to him?.
Was it Blanchie or Nora? No—he peeped into their room; they were
both quietly asleep —he could see them by the moonlight, which was very
bright. But again he heard that sad cry: “Hodgie, Hodgie, do come!â€
It came from the garden; and, without waiting to dress himself, down
he trotted. He did not feel cold; and, oddly enough, the door was open, so
he got out quite easily. But once in the garden, oh, what a sight! The
flower-beds were a mass of ruins; the tall lilies lying on the ground, all
their beauty gone; the roses crushed and broken; the sunflowers’ faces hid-
den in the soil, while from all sides came the woeful cry, “Oh, Hodgie,
Hodgie, it was your bad example!â€
What a night he had! Lifting up one, wiping the soiled petals of
others, tying and binding and straightening all that he could. Dear, dear!
never did gardener work harder than Hodgie in the moonlight, till at last.
things began to improve a little, and the garden to look less desolate.
THE FIGHTING FLOWERS.
Thank you,†whispered the bruised and repentant flowers; “we'll
go to sleep now till the morning, and we’ll never fight again, Hodgie,†and
with a sigh the little gardener went back to bed..
It was quite morning when he woke. The sun was shining, and the
wind had ceased. From the bedroom window Hodgie could see nothing of
the garden; but he begged Nurse to dress him quickly that he might have a
little run before breakfast, and he pattered off downstairs, as fast as he could.
When he got to the garden he rubbed his eyes with astonishment. It
didn’t look so very different from usual. Some of the flowers were strag-
gling and blown about, some few bruised and broken; but several lifted up
their faces, with sweet joy, to wish him and the sunshine good-morning.
And on one rose, which he stooped to scent, there was a drop of dew, like a
tear.
“Perhaps her’s been sorry, and is going to be good now,†thought
Hodgie.
But still— where were all the sticks and tyings up? — he remem-
bered fetching them from the tool-house so-well. He felt very puzzled.
Suddenly he saw some one coming— some one who liked a little fresh air
before breakfast, too. It was Mother. Hodgie ran to her and told her all
that had happened.
* My darling,†she said as she kissed him, “it was
a dream. Perhaps it was rather foolish of me to make
that little joke about your setting the flowers
a bad example; but still I hope neither they nor
the birds nor any one will ever hear quarrelling
or fighting, or anything but happy sounds,
through the nursery window again.â€
“We're going to be werry good chil-
dren,†said Hodgie; “ you’ll see, Mother.â€
And he trotted in to tell the wonderful
story of his dream to Blanchie and Nora and
Nurse. But,as he passed the flower-beds, he
shook his head; he was not guzfe sure but that
Mother was mistaken.
“They have been fighting some,†he said to himself.
a Louisa Molesworth.
on
LITTLE PUSSY.
LIKE little Pussy, her coat is so warm;
And if I don’t hurt her, she’ll do me no harm;
So TI not pull her tail, nor drive her away,
But Pussy and I very gently will play;
She shall sit by my side, and PH give her some food;
And shell love me, because I am gentle and good.
Pll pat little Pussy, and then she’ will purr,
And thus show her thanks for my kindness to Hers
Pll not pinch her ears, nor tread on her paw,
Lest I should provoke her to use her Sharp claw;
T never will vex her, nor make her displeased,
For Pussy doesn’t like to be worried or teased.
y.
UPS AND DOWNS.
OBBY and Freddy, a plank and a log,
And a dear little, queer little, curly-tailed dog,
Barking to give them a bit of his mind,
Because he was certain they’d fall off behind.
“I said so!†cried doggie, ‘ bow-wow-wow-wow!
I said you’d go over; come, didn’t I, now?â€
Then away to their mother the little dog sped,
To tell what had happened to Bobby and Fred. —
© Tis odd,†cried doggie, “and really not nice,
That children won’t listen to words of advice.â€
MY MOTHER.
HO sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.
Who ran to help me when I fell,
‘And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother.
Who taught my infant lips to pray,
And love God’s holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.
And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast so very kind to’ me?
My Mother.
When thou art feeble, old, and gray,
My healthy arms shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away —
My Mother.
And when I see thee hang
head,
*Twill be my turn to watch
bed,
thy
thy
And tears of sweet affection shed—
My Mother.
LITTLE RAINDROPS.
H, where do you come from,
You little drops of rain, —
Pitter patter, pitter patter,
Down the window pane?
They won’t let me walk,
And they won’t let me play,
And they won't let me go
Out of doors at all to-day.
They put away my playthings,
Because I broke them all;
And then they lock’d up all my bricks,
And took away my ball.
THE DEAD BIRD.
Tell me, little rain-drops,
Is that the way you play,
Pitter patter, pitter patter,
All the rainy day?
They say I’m very naughty ;
But Pve nothing else to do
But sit here at the window;
I should like to play with you.
The little rain-drops cannot: speak,
But “pitter patter pat†.
Means, “We can play on ¢hds side,
Why can’t you play on that?â€
THE DEAD
BIRD.
OOR, bonnie thing,
I heard him sing
The other day
A song so gay,
Why does he lie
there now so still ?
Is birdie ill ?
«T CAN’ T.â€
“¥ CAN’T do this sum!†cried a
little girl, in the school-room.
At once a queer little man
came in through the key-hole and
squatted down on her shoulders,
and began to laugh. He was the
“JT can’t†bogie, and was delighted
to hear the little girl call him.
“T can’t!†said she again.
The “I can’t†bogie grinned with ©
delight again, he was so pleased.
There was another little girl in
the school-room who held up her
slate.
“IT can do it!†she said.
The “I can’t†bogie heard her
and began to shiver,and looked very glum. Then the first little girl looked
up and saw the other smiling; and it made her feel crosser than ever.
“TI can’t do it!†she said. And the bogie felt better at once, and held
up his ugly head again. Then the second little girl came across the room.
“Let me help you!†she said, and she soon pointed out a terrible
mistake in the sum. The “I can’t bogie†left off looking happy. “ There’s
where it is wrong,†said the little girl. “Try again.â€
At these words the poor bogie began to grow white.
“JT will,†replied the other little girl, The bogie man shivered all
over. :
“[ve nearly done it!†she said again. The “I can’t†bogie
trembled dreadfully, and his teeth began to chatter. He turned up his
coat-collar, and tried to look as bold as he could.
“It’s done!†cried the little girl, in triumph. This was more than
the bogie could stand. He slipped off her shoulder, and stole ‘across the
room, and crept pce ey through the ney fle:
ee
OA
THE OLD PUMP.
N weather fine or weather bad
My little boy is always glad,
With many a skip and many
a jump,
To go for water to the pump.
"He likes to see the water flow
So fresh, from rocky bed below;
And then, with steady step, I
hear
His song or whistle drawing near.
And young and old together come
To fetch the precious water home;
And changes are in each one’s lot,
But still the old pump changeth
not.
And people come, and people go,
And little boys to manhood grow,
And still the pump’s a friend in
need,
And so becomes a friend indeed.
A
vend
aa aa SD aay,
THE GINGER-BREAD MAN.
HERE was once a Ginger-Bread Man, really a very fine fellow indeed.
He was made of the very best Ginger-Bread; and his face, hands,
and boots were all of beautiful colored sugar, to say nothing of
pockets and buttons, and a walking-stick made of the same sweet stuff.
But although he was possessed of all this finery, that was no reason why he
should turn up his sugar-nose at everything and everybody, and give him-
self terrible airs, which he most decidedly did.
In fact, he considered himself so very grand, he would hardly speak
to the wax-doils and the colored animals that lived in the Noah’s-ark, and
as to the plain wooden ones he didn’t even condescend to look at them; so
you can imagine he was not a favorite in the nursery.
“What a come-down in the world it is to be placed here with a lot
of stupid toys, after living in a shop window, with others of my family, and
being admired by all beholders,†he sighed to himself, hour after hour, in-
stead of making himself agreeable. ‘It is impossible for anybody to
appreciate me here; nobody knows what’ a
first-rate stuff ’'m made of. Bah!†Da eens
i te 4 Tt ty Wik, | i :
But it so turned out that the Ginger- if. Ve iy
Bread Man was mistaken, for in the middle aN, Sach TE
of the night, when the other toys were en- YB ai SULT
joying themselves (as toys always do when
everybody else is asleep), and the Ginger-
Bread Man was sulking by him-
self in a corner, there popped
out of a hole in the wall six ‘ |
little brown mice. : 7 F HM
There was the Father Se ¥ , &
and the Mother mouse and
their four children, and they 25
all were very hungry. “Oh, per ety
dear, what a beautiful man!†-
cried the four little mice, as
THE GINGER-BREAD MAN.
they saw the Ginger-Bread Man. “I should think so, indeed,†thought he
to himself. “Gracious me!†exclaimed Papa and Mamma Mouse, in one
breath, “he’s made of Ginger-Bread and Sugar. My dears, he is good to
eat; try him.†So they tried him. “Isn’t he lovely?†cried one. ‘De-
licious!†said another. ‘What first-rate stuff he’s made of!†said a third,
with his mouth full; which, by the by, was very bad manners.
So the little mice nibbled, and nibbled, and nibbled away, and in the
morning, all that was left of the Ginger-Bread Man was one sugar pocket
and four buttons. And nobody in the nursery was very sorry; every one
agreed that it served him right; for conceit and pride are sure to have a fall,
one day or another.
Edric Vredenburg.
APRIL SHOWERS.
H, happy is the time of Spring!
Oh, happy are our childhood’s hours,
When we can smile at anything,
And tears are only April showers.
Then shines the sun upon the field,
So gayly strewn with new-born flowers;
And early leaves a perfume yield,
Made sweetly fresh with April showers.
Then haste we to the old beech wood,
And make ourselves a shady bower,
Within a tree that long has stood
A shelter from the April shower.
The soft rain. patters at our feet;
The sun shines out in all his power.
Say, do you know a time as sweet
As sunshine mixed with April shower?
WO little froggies
sat under a mushroom,
And shelter for two
. there only was just room;
So the third little frog
he sat all alone, —
And so all the frogs
were as dry as a bone.
OLD FATHER SANTA CLAUS.
AID two little people, dressed in white,
“Old Father Santa Claus will come to-night;
But lest he forgets, or makes a mistake,
We'd better listen and be awake.â€
But when the nursemaid put out the light,
These two little people, dressed in white,
Rolled themselves up in the counterpane,
And did not dare to look out again.
So carefully did they wrap the clothes,
You couldn’t see the tip of a nose.
But when the bells were ringing ding-dong,
Old Father Santa Claus passed along;
“Whish,†he said, brushing the snow from his nose;
“Whew! how the east wind biusters and blows.â€
Then through the window he spied the bed;
“T have to call at this house,†he said;
“The chimney’s the proper way for me;
Why are they built so narrow?†said he.
In at the window he went instead,
Seated himself at the foot of the bed,
Filled the stocking with sweetmeats and toys, —
All without making the
slightest noise.
Now, wake little people, dressed
in white, .
Old Father Santa Claus came
last night; .
fle crammed your stocking —
and, children, look!
fle brought you a colored pic-
ture-book.
PUSSY «TO. TEA.
= USSY: cat, Pussy cat,
What are you atP
Where are your manners,
You bad little cat?â€
“Miou,†said the Pussy;
ee
Please, may I stay
To afternoon tea, ma’am,
For once in a way?â€
“Pussy cat, Pussy cat,
What can I doP
There’s no cup and saucer,
There’s no tea for you.â€
“Miou,†said the Pussy;
“Miou, ma’am,†said she.
“I don’t need a tea-cup,
I never take tea;
Some milk in a saucer
Is better for me.â€
MRS. PUSSY-CAT’S PARTY,
OR THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS WHO LOST THEIR MITTENS.
HE first we heard about the ball was from the Milkman. He was
a dreadfully late that morning, and we were nearly starving for want of
our breakfast, and were all looking out of the window, while Mother
stood at the door with the jug, wondering what could have detained him.
At last he came, shouting down
the street; but even then he
would have forgotten to call
had we not all shrieked out to
him to stop.
“Dear, dear!†he said,
“JT am sorry; to think I should
neglect you, who are some of
my best customers; but really I
have just had swch an order for
milk and cream that I was quite
upset. How I am to procure
so much for to-morrow, I really cannot imagine.â€
Of course we wanted to know who had given him the order, and
then it all came out. Mrs. Pussy-Cat was going to give a grand ball and
supper. ;
“They are all as busy as bees, writing out the invitations,†said the
Milkman, “and they wanted my boy Toby to take them round. That was
how I had the order at once; and they say they are going to ask King
Whiskerandos and the Prince of Taels, who are just now staying at Grimal-
kin Castle. Everybody knows that the Prince is looking out for a Princess,
so all the young ladies must put on their best frocks.â€
We had plenty to talk about over our breakfast, because we knew
that Blanche, Ruby, and I were certain to have invitations, for we were
quite in the highest circle of society. Sure enough, before we had finished,
MRS. PUSSY-CATS’ PARTY.
there came a ring at the bell, and Toby brought the most elegant little
card.
“T shall wear my blue,†said Blanche; “and Ruby, you had better
put on white. With your complexion, you are so difficult to dress.†“And
-what will Tabitha wear?†said Mother. “Oh, poor old Tabby!†cried
Blanche. “It doesn’t much matter. I’m afraid she won’t get many part-
ners; she always looks such a dowdy. But I wonder if the Prince of Taels
will really be there?â€
Don’t be rude to your elder sister, Blanche,†said Mother, severely.
“You are a conceited, vain, little thing, to think that the Prince will notice
you. But one thing, children, be sure and look to your mittens, and see
they are clean, and no holes. I knew a most elegant kitten who lost the
match of the season, because she had a little hole in her mittens— just one
tiny hole.â€
We had heard about that unfortunate kitten a great many times ;
but we listened with respect, and
took warning. We were old-fash-
ioned enough to think that Mother
knew best, so we found our mit-
tens, and examined them most
-
yrs : a= pa fll carefully; but they were all quite
: sound and good.
“We won’t wash them till
wh
LPB
een
to-morrow,†said Ruby; “ because
_ then they will be quite fresh and
2 nice. And now, don’t you think
CARR TE cone we had better practise our songs;
ae Mrs. Pussy-Cat knows what lovely
voices we have and will be sure
WO
{
ae
FN
oe to ask us to sing ?â€
Blanche agreed to this, and so did I, and we. began to practise.
First we sang about the Three Blind Mice, because that is always such a
favorite, and then we sang another newer song, which, perhaps, you have
not heard, so I will just write it down.
MRS. PUSSY-CATS’ PARTY.
Three Kittens went running out on to the roof,
Out on to the roof as the sun went down;
Each thought of the song that he loved the best,
And sang it out loud, to the joy of the town,
The joy of the town — the joy of the town,
And — sang — it — out — loud—— to —the joy of the — town.
We enjoyed our singing very much, and really worked hard at it;
too hard, indeed, for we were so absorbed that we forgot everything else
At last we were so hoarse that we left off, and shut up our book.
And then it was that our trouble began.
“Dear me!†cried Blanche, as we jumped down. “ Where are the
mittens ?â€
“T don’t know,†I replied, rather haughtily. “You younger ones
ought to have put them away properly. I know nothing of them.â€
“But where are they?†cried Blanche; “they were just here on the
floor, before we began to sing. It is no use quarrelling, girls. Just say
if you put them anywhere, Tabby?â€
“No!†I said. “I haven’t touched them.â€
“Good gracious!†exclaimed Ruby; “where can they be? We must
try and find them, for we can’t go to the ball without them, and Mother
will be so cross; I am sure she won’t buy us new ones.â€
Ob! what a morn-
ing we had. We hunted. [KA ona),
high, we hunted low; but Ent Sy agi
not a si f i Id a wate 3
en of a mitten cou es oe fm, Ba
we see. We turned out du i773 Nye My
wl SV Nffin % ‘ 3
thet z g i (iS 4 Aste
oe oe! at
every drawer and box; we
looked under the beds, and
up the chimney, but it was
The mittens were ch Sat ns ie “ae ait Sc:
een
oi
2
aâ€
ie
Sy.
no use.
quite gone— vanished — de-
parted in the most mysterious manner. Then we sat down and cried till
our nice furry frocks were quite wet, and our paws drenched with wiping
our eyes.
“We shan’t be able to go to the ball,†sobbed Blanche; “and I
MRS. PUSSY-CAT’S PARTY. |
shan’t be Princess of Taels, as I meant to be; and oh! I was going to do
such things for you, girls. You should have been my ladies-in-waiting,
and I daresay would have married dukes, and attended me when I was
Queen.â€
“Oh, well,†said Ruby, “that is all very fine; but the thing is that we
must find the mittens. Shall we have a notice printed and put up, offering
a reward? But hush—there’s Mother!†.
As soon as Mother came in and saw us, she knew something was the
matter. ;
“Why, children,†she exclaimed, “what
are you crying about? What is the matter?â€
“Lost your mittens,†she went on, when we
had told her, “you bad, untidy kittens. Very
be able to go to the ball, either.â€
If we cried before, I can tell you we
cried twice as much then, because there was
_ pigeon-pie for dinner, and we were dreadfully
fond of it. We brought our plates, and begged Mother to give us just a
little taste; but no, she wouldn’t. And, worse than all, she put some on
my plate and bade me give it to Boxer, who had just come in. Boxer was’
-a horrid little dog who lived with us, though we never liked him.
But I had to give it to Boxer and go without myself, though if we.
had known then what we knew later, not one taste he should have had.
Presently, however, Mother went upstairs, and we were left alone. I know
we were very naughty in what we did, but we were so hungry, and so mis-
erable with losing our mittens, and our dinner, and our ball, too, as we
thought; and the pie smelt so nice, and we crept a little nearer, and a little
nearer to it, and sniffed at it; and then Blanche put out her tongue just to
taste the edge, and Ruby leaned over the rim and got a little bite, and I—
yes—I did. I put in my paw boldly, and hooked out a.bit of pigeon.
It was Boxer told Mother, and, considering how everything was his
fault, I do think it was mean of him. And when Mother came down, she
—well, I can’t describe it; it is too dreadful to think of! We had had
such a wretched day that we went to bed early that night, and the next
well, then, you shall have no dinner; such care-—
less people don’t deserve any. And you won’t _
MRS. PUSSY-CAT’S PARTY.
morning we thought we would go out for a walk, to cheer up our spirits,
which were low. Perhaps, too, we might see some cheap mittens, and
persuade Mother to let us buy them. We were walking along, sad and
silent, and had nearly reached Boxer’s kennel, when, suddenly, Ruby startled
‘us by a great shriek. “ Look!†she cried, “it is he who has done it; the
ungrateful dog!â€
I can hardly tell you what our feelings were, when we saw the lost
mittens, some under Boxer’s pawas he lay in his kennel; some tossed about
on the rim of his pan of water. He, the base little wretch! must have come
- in while we were singing, and stolen our mittens and hid them, and then,
' worst of all, told tales about the pie, when it was all through his wicked ways
we had lost our dinner. We said a good deal to him to try and make him
ashamed of himself, though I don’t think he cared a bit; and should have
said a good deal more, only we were too anxious to mend our mittens, which
had suffered considerably from his teeth. In we ran and set to work, first
to wash them, and then to mend them; and, fortunately, we got them quite
ready in time to wear at the ball, which was that evening.
. Oh, the ball! I wish
I could tell you how lovely it
was — the music, the dresses,
the lights, the dancing, and
the supper. The last was
superb. There were roast
rat and friccaseed mouse, and
boiled sparrow and_ fried
smelts, and lots of cream and -
_milk, and everything delicious
you can imagine. And the
Prince of Taels was there —
‘the most charming of Princes— and though he didn’t fall in love with
Blanche, he did with somebody else; and the next time I write to you, I
daresay I shall have to date it from the Round Tower of Grimalkin Castle,
where the Heir to the Throne always has his apartments.
; M. A. Hoyer.
SUNNY DAYS
OF CHILDHOOD.
CvUNNY days of childhood !
Beautiful ye seem;
Fair as Spring-tide flowers,
Bright as Summer’s beam.
Days with joy o’erflowing,
Care nor sadness knowing,
Must ye pass away?
Happy days of childhood !
Swiftly moving on:
Into manhood changing,
Ye will soon be gone.
Like a streamlet flowing,
Pause nor stillness knowing,
Thus ye pass away!
Precious days of childhood !
Days of promise fair;
If bedewed with wisdom,
Rich the fruits ye bear,
Jesu’s footsteps keeping,
Blest shall be our reaping
In life’s harvest day.
Sunny days of childhood !
We no tears will shed
When, like spring-tide flowers,
Youth and health are fled.
Earthly scenes forsaking,
We shall hail the breaking
Of an endless day.
|
Full Text |
Boston, De Wolfe, Fiske & Co
A GREAT SECRET.
LITTLE Kitten said to me,
As I passed by the apple-tree:
“Please, have you seen my Mistress, sir?
I’m playing hide-and-seek with her.â€
And as I passed the mulberry bush,
A little maiden whispered, “Hush!
If you should see my Pussy, dear,
You must not say you've seen me here.â€
So in my breast, secure and deep,
This awful secret I must keep.
But don’t you think, Miss What’s-Your-Name,
Youd better hide behind the frame,
Or else [ have but little doubt
That Pussy soon will find you out.
STR
IN: THE. HAY.
VER the hills, farmer,
Over the hills away;
There’s some one out in your hay, farmer,
‘Been there since break of day.
*Tis not the hare or rabbits, farmer;
*Tis not the birds so gay;
But there’s some one out in your hay, farmer,
Been there since break of day.
*Tis only three little folk, farmer,
Tony, and Dot, and May, .
Picking the flowers in your hay, farmer,
In your hay since break of day. ’
Don’t drive them away, farmer,
Those little birdies three;
They’ll make the hay more sweet, farmer,
More sweet for you and me.
:
THE TWO DICKS.
HERE are two Dicks in this story, and one Dot. Dot was a pretty
little girl; one of the Dicks was a nice little boy, and the other Dick
was a funny l'ttle dog. They lived in a lovely farm-house, not very
‘far from the seaside.
Of course the children were very fond of the sea, and bathing, and
watching the ships as they sailed by on their way to foreign countries. But
I am sorry to say that Dick, the doggie, disliked the sea, hated having his
bath, and took no interest whatever in the passing ships; they might all be
going to Timbuctoo for all he cared, and might stop there into the bargain; Cees
and I’m sorry to say that Dick, the little boy, disliked going to school just as
much as Dick, the doggie, objected to having his bath. “Shan’t go to
school! Shan’t!†he cried one day.
But Dot heard him, and asked him,
so prettily, to come and sit by her while
she taught him to read and write his own
name, that Dick couldn’t be naughty any
longer.
Now it so happened that Dick, the
doggie, heard Dick, the little boy, say
“Shan’t,†and he thought he would say it,
too, in his own language.
“Shan’t have my bath! Shan’t !’
he said, on the day he was to have his
weekly bath. ep go and live with the
little girl who keeps a kitten; she never puts it into the water.â€
THE TWO DICKS.
But Dot took Dick, the doggie, in her arms and petted him. But as
soon as he saw the water he began to struggle, so that Dot dropped him,
and he fell plump into the sea. Then out he jumped. and away he ran, and
the children after him. _
Away he ran until he came to a field, and then he popped into a
rabbit-hole. And, terrible to tell, although he had popped in he couldn’t
pop out again; he had got fixed in that rabbit-hole.
Away ran Dot to the farm.
“ Father! Mother! Dick’s down a rabbit-hole, and can’t get out.â€
Both the farmer and his wife turned pale, for they thought at first it
was Dick, their little son. But as soon as they knew which Dick it was
they laughed, and the farmer took a spade and dug the doggie out.
Dick always took his bath properly after this, and became just as
good a little dog, as the other Dick was a good little boy.
Edric Vredenburg.
ERE am I,
Mother’s little daughter,
With my petticoats high,
To keep them dry,
And. my feet in the. cool
green water!
ag DICK’S ‘BATH,
THE CHILD'S
DESIRE.
THINK, when I read that sweet story
of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How He called little children as lambs
to His fold,
I should like to have been with them i
then. or
I wish that His hands had been placed on my head,
That His arms had been thrown around me,
And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,
“Let the little ones come unto Me.â€
But still to His footstool in prayer I may go,
_ And ask for a share in His love;
And if I thus earnestly seek Him below,
I shall see Him and hear Him above,
In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare
For all that are washed and forgiven;
And many dear children are gathering there,
“For of such is the kingdom of heaven.â€
Mrs. Luke.
HOW DOTH THE LITTLE BUSY BEE.
OW doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining - hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower !
How skilfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labors hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.
In works of labor or of. skill,
I would be busy, too,
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.
In books, or work, or healthful play,
Let my first years be past,
That I may give for every day
Some good account at last.
Isaac Watts,
a
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
HERE was dead silence in the
nursery, which was very unu-
sual; but then a very, unusual
thing had happened. It was Chitist-
mas morning, and the dull, gray light —
was coming in at every chink of the
curtained windows, showing the com-
fortable room, with the two little
cribs, and Nurse’s bed, with the
clothes all huddled up instead of
being neatly folded back as usual,
the night-light looking very small
and insignificant, but sufficient to
show three empty stockings hanging
by the fireplace.
Mary and Dorothy had jumped
out of bed directly they woke, and
rushed to the stockings. Dick had
come hurrying in from his own little
room next door, and there they all stood, with wide open eyes and bare
feet, shivering on the rug, feeling that something dreadful must have
happened.
“Santa Claus has forgotten,†said Mary.
“ Fordotten,†echoed Dorothy. ‘She had so few ideas of her own
that she drew largely upon Mary.
“T don’t believe there is any Santa Claus at all,†cried Dick,
defiantly. “So there, now!†But Mary was too despondent to accept
the challenge. ee
* Are you quite, gute sure it is Christmas Day?†she answered,
earnestly, “ not eve, or that sort of thing? Did Mother say so?â€
“Why, of course she did,†said Dick. “Stupid! how could we
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
have known it, if she hadn’t? Just the very last thing at dessert. ‘Don’t
Sorget your stockings!’ You know she did.â€
“Yes, Dick, I know.â€
But all the same, Dick went on recklessly crushing his little sister’s
faith.
“I bet you anything there isn’t any Santa Claus, and he does not
come down the chimney and I believe Mother fills our stockings with her
own hands.â€
“ With her own hands?†said Mary, gazing incredulously at Dick,
standing on the hearthrug in his night-shirt, and trying not to shiver.
“Yes, her own self,†went on Dick, pleased with the sensation he
had caused. “So I shall just go back to bed.’
“But it gueaked,†said Dorothy, suddenly.
“What squeaked?†demanded Dick.
“Santa Claus, Dick.â€
“And when did he gueak?†with supreme contempt.
“Oh, about eleven hundred o’clock, when he was in the chimney,
and it was quite dark.â€
“Perhaps he’s caught some-
where,†said Mary, in a whisper.
“Oh, poor thing, perhaps he’s stuck!
Don’t you think—oh, don’t you
think, Dick, we’d better go and ask
Mother?â€
“Oh, bosh! You girls!†said
Dick. “Well, yes, do as you like; not
that I believe a word about all that —
that’s gammon! but a fellow doesn’t
like to be done out of his presents
on Christmas Day.â€
“J think Dorothy had better
go,†said Mary. “Vl wrap her up
warm, and she can go to Mother’s
room, and then she’ll meet Nurse, or
Mary Anne, or some one.â€
“He queaked,†said Dorothy again, evidently very important about
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
the sensation she had produced, but unable to rise above that one utterance
that. had taxed all her intellect. :
Mary went down on her knees, and drew the little stockings and
shoes on to the cold feet. Then she put on Dorothy’s own. red dressing-
gown, and Nurse’s white shawl, because it was rather fun dressing Dolly
up; and then, with great solemnity, they handed her the three empty stock-
ings, and opened the nursery door.
“Why, Miss Dorothy,†said Mary Anne, aghast at the little figure in
the yellow sunlight on the stairs. ‘Whatever will Nurse say? You just
go right up again—the stairs being that damp you'll catch your death.â€
“Oh, but ’m on a message,†said Dorothy, seriously. 2
“Well, Nurse’ll just message you if she sees you,†said Mary,
vaguely; “so you’d better hurry—it’s as cold as charity.†°
- Dorothy clambered down another flight to the level of Mother’s
room. E Nes
It seemed very quiet. There was no sound except the sound of
Mary Anne’s broom swishing down the stairs, and her heavy breathing as
she followed it. Dorothy found it a little oppressive, and thought it would
be better to go back; and at that moment Mother’s door was softly opened,
and a strange lady came out.
*
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
“Why, little Miss,†said the strange lady, kindly, “are you looking
for Nurse? She’s just run down to the kitchen for a cup of tea, but she’ll
be up in a minute; and you mustn’t catch cold, you know, and add to all the
worries of this lee Christmas Day.â€
“Pm looking for Santa Claus,†said Dorothy, softly.
“Why, bless the child!†said the strange lady, with a laugh.
“What a little pet! Santa Claus has been very busy, my dear, this night.
He’s caught and caged — that’s what he is; but he’s not forgotten you.
_ He’ll be down the chimney to-night, as sure as smoke.â€
The strange lady nodded, still laughing, and then went softly back
into Mother’s room.
Dorothy’s heart swelled. She had never been shut out before —
never! and the door always opened to her little fingers. She did not know
what to do, but she would ‘go into the dressing-room, at any rate, and
perhaps that would be-open. If she called softly, she knew Mother would
come.
Fortunately, the dressing-room door was ajar. She pushed it gently,
and then harder, until it was wide open, and she stood in the great flood of
light that poured in through the window and dazzled her.
In the fireplace was a blazing fire, with a kettle on it, and, beside
the fire, what looked to Dorothy like a blue-and-white nest, with a bird in
it. She knew at once, by instinct, what it was! Not a bird at all, — she
was not quite so silly as that, — but Santa cae A little baby Santa Claus
“taught and tagedâ€! cee es
Here she was at the heart of the secret, and her heart expanded with
delight. Zhzs was worth everything — the laborious journey downstairs,
the loneliness, the fear, the cold, the ignorance that shut her out from
Mother’s room. Santa Claus was not an old man at all, as Dick had always
said, but a little, soft, rosy thing, with a fringe of hair, and wide blue eyes
that stared back at Dorothy when she stared at him.
“What a pretty thing!†said Dorothy, touching his face.
She stooped a little lower, and put her own soft cheek against the
soft cheek on the pillow, and then she turned her head and kissed him.
“You's like my doll,†she: said.
But Santa Claus had wrinkled up his face, and was looking quite ugly.
He was not accustomed to being kissed. He puckered his forehead, and
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
squeezed his eyes together, and wriggled in his shawl in the most unpleasant
way, and then he burst out into an unmistakable cry. Dorothy stood spell-
bound. It was the same noise she had heard before, so every doubt was
cleared up.
“You gueaked again,†she said, solemnly. She held her dressing-
gown tight about her, because Mary had forgotten to button it, and it kept
tumbling open; then she walked
softly away, and hurried up the
wide shallow stairs as quickly
as she could.
At the sound of the little
cry, the Nurse peeped into the
dressing-room, and came hastily
to the fire.
“This is some of that
Mary Anne’s work, [ll be
bound,†she said crossly, “leav-
ing the door ajar like that! Ivll
be a wonder if the child hasn’t
got inflammation of its lungs
by now —hasn’t you, my pretty
pet? There, now, don’t cry! You'll be as warm as a toast soon.â€
But Santa Claus only grumbled a little in reply.
Meanwhile, Dorothy was trudging slowly upstairs, her little mind full
of the marvels she had seen. She was panting so much — for Dorothy was
rather a fat baby— that she could not speak for some minutes after Dick
and Mary had pulled her into the nursery and pushed her down into her
own chair.
“J seen him,†she said at last after she had got her breath.
“What? Who— Mother? Oh, tell us, Dolly!†cried Mary, in
supreme impatience. -
* "No—Santa Claus,†said Dorothy, sitting upright, and eae
with extreme solemnity, “taught and taged,†repeating her little formula.
And then she added, with a glow of ‘happy recollection, “Thet a pztty
{>
thing!
“But where was he?†cried Mary. “Oh, Dorothy dear, speak
» x >
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT.
quicker! Is he up the chimney? Dick, did you hear? She saw
him.†.
“] hear,†said Dick, trying to whistle in an unconcerned way. “I
don’t believe it— at least,†with a quick look round, “I don’t think I do.
Dolly’s such a silly, she’d believe anything.â€
“But he gueaked again,†said Dolly, almost in tears.
“ Did you see the presents? I'd believe you then.â€
* No,†said Dorothy, sorrowfully, shaking her head.
© There’s Nurse,†said Mary, suddenly jumping to her feet. “ Dick
dear, don’t shiver, please; try and look warm. Jump up and down off the
bed. I shall ask Nurse the minute she comes in.â€
There was a sound like the puffing of a steam-engine, getting nearer
and nearer, until at last it was quite near the nursery door; a great many
groans, and grumbles, and heavy breaths, as the door was thrown open, and
poor Nurse appeared, panting, on the threshold. Her face was crimson,
and her apron was held up by one corner, and out of it there bulged all
sorts of queer corners and colored parcels, and legs and arms of animals.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, and tumbled everything out into a
heap.
“There they all are!†she said; “and the name’s on every blessed
one! Just wait a minute, loves, until 1 get my
breath, and am more like a living woman than
a grampus, and I'll tell you all your Mamma
said. She hopes you haven’t been disappointed
about the stockings. Santa Claus, she says, had
other work to do, and has brought the loveliest
present that’s ever been brought into this house
on Christmas Day—God bless it! But he.
stopped to give it to your Mamma, it seems,
which is why he never got so far.â€
“A present for Mother?†said. Mary,
with wide-open eyes. “Oh, what is it?â€
© Well, you’re to guess,†said Nurse,
laughing; “but T’ll help you a bit. It’s a live present, and its something
for you all; and Miss Dolly there, bless her, isn’t the baby no longer.â€
“Why, I know!†said Dick. He gave a funny laugh. “Oh, Dolly, I
THE GIFT THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT. |
know what your Santa Claus was! What a silly you are! Don’t you know
a baby when you see it? A live thing, Mary, she said, you know, and by
Mother’s fire.â€
“A baby!†cried Mary, breathlessly. “A little ducky, darling baby
in a cradle! Oh, Dorothy, didn’t you guess? â€
“Well, well,†said Nurse. “So my secret’s out, is it? Just get into
your clothes as quickly as you can, and Pll take. you in to peep at it.â€
“Well, you were a stupid, Dolly,†said Dick, as he ran away.
“But it gueaked,†said Dolly, tearfully. “I never knew a baby
queaked before.â€
Geraldine Butt.
OWN in a green and shady bed
A modest Violet grew;
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,
As if to hide from view.
And it was a lovely flower,
Its color bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower
Instead of hiding there.
Yet thus it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed,
And there diffused its sweet perfume
Within the silent shade.
Then let me to the valley go,
This pretty flower to see,
That 1 may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.
BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES.
UTTERCUPS and Daisies;
B Oh, the pretty flowers !
Coming ere the Spring-time,
To tell of sunny hours.
While the trees are leafless,
While the fields are bare,
Buttercups and Daisies ,
Spring up everywhere.
Ere the Snowdrop peepeth,
Ere the Crocus bold,
Ere the early Primrose
Opes its paly gold,
Somewhere on a sunny bank
_ Buttercups are bright,
Somewhere on a sunny bank
Peeps the Daisy white.
Welcome, yellow Buttercups !.
Welcome, ‘Daisies white !
Ye are in my spirit
Visioned, a delight!
Coming ere the Spring-time,
Of sunny hours to tell,
Speaking to our hearts of Him
Who doeth all things well.
BUSY KITTIE.
OOD-MORNING, Cousin Kittie,
Youre busy now, I see,
And so I must not ask you
To come and play with me.
“But if you hasten, Kittie, “Oh, yes, said little Kittie,
Your work will soon be done, I'd like to go and_ play
For see, the rain is over, When I have cut the apples
And brightly shines the sun.†To make a pie to-day.
“But, first, I want to water,
My plants, on window-seat,
And place. them in the sunshine,
The cheerful rays to meet.â€
“PUT DOWN ONE AND CARRY. ONE.â€
HEN I do my sums in school,
I remember but one rule:
When eleven’s to be done,
* Put down one and carry one.â€
That sounds very queer to me;
I don’t care for sums, you see;
It’s not my idea of fun,
* Put down one and carry one.â€
I brought home, the other day,
Two dear puppies, black and gray,
From my uncle Robert’s farm,
_ Carrying one dog in each arm.
When I reached the stream, I thought,
*Oh, what heavy dogs I’ve brought!
I can never cross, I see;
They are quite too much for me!â€
And I dared not let one go—
It might run away, you know;.
The one set down away will run,
If you only carry one.
So I took them both across;
We were all so tired and. cross! _
Perhaps I should have better done
To put down one and carry one.
But I “did not know, I own,
_ Which to carry, which set down,
Sol carried both with pains;
ee. I took two—and naught remains.
CAPTAIN FACK.
ee OOD news! Good news!†cried
Aunt Ida, as she came into the
nursery, waving a letter in her
hand. “Come, Mabel and Jack, there’s a
kiss for the one who guesses first what
it is.â€
“Uncle Will has sent me a pony,â€
guessed Jack.
“No,†said Mabel, who was older
“it’s a letter
from India. Aunty! Are Papa and
and wiser than her brother;
Mamma coming home?â€
“Yes!†said Aunt Ida, as she kissed her niece. “ You’ve guessed ©
right. Papa’s regiment is ordered back to England, and they’ll be home in
less than a fortnight.†.
The children listened eagerly while their Aunt read them the letter;
but when she described the big ship they were coming home in, and how the
soldiers of the gallant 60th would all be longing to see old England again,
and how glad they would be to get back, Jack grew so excited, that he
wanted to start then and there, in old Sam Briney’s fishing-boat, to meet
them.
. Mabel and Jack were the children of Colonel Morton, of the 6oth
Rifles. They had both been born in India, but the hot climate did not suit
them, so they had been sent to England, when quite little babies, to be taken
care of by Aunt Ida, Mrs. Morton’s sister. They had lived a happy life in
the little Devonshire fishing-village where their Aunt resided, and where the
boy was the pet of all the old fishermen, who called him Cap’n Jack, and
made him boats to sail in the pools on the shore.
Colonel Morton and his wife had been expected home a year before,
but a war had broken out, and he had to stay and fight for his country in
Afghanistan. This had been such a disappointment to the children that
Mabel’s black doll, Sambo, had been re-christened the King of Afghanistan,
CAPTAIN JACK.
and Jack had paraded his tin soldiers, and shot Sambo with a toy cannon and
peas every day for a week, till at last the poor black-i-moor had lost his
nose, which vexed Mabel very much.
It was the middle of July, and holiday time, so they had nothing to
do all day but play on the beach, and watch the ships pass in the distance,
and wonder if any of them were bringing their parents home.
Jack was still full of the idea of going to meet them, and had tried to
bribe Sam Briney, the fisherman, with promises of ever so many rides on his
pony when it came, to take him out in his boat, far away over the sea, where
the big ships look like tiny specks.
Wandering over the beach one hot afternoon the children saw a
small boat lying on the sands. It was a pretty, light craft, very different
from the big, dirty fishing-vessels. It belonged to a party of ladies and
gentlemen who had landed from a yacht to visit some ruins in the neighbor-
hood. The name “Sea-swallow†was painted in beautiful gold letters on
the bows, and Jack, who had never seen anything like it before, suggested
that it might be a fairy-boat, and then,
thinking that perhaps such an expres-
sion was not seamanlike enough for
a boy of six, remarked that it was
“a very lively little craft.â€
CAPTAIN JACK.
And Mabel climbed over the sides, and played at going to meet Papa,
and went long voyages with Jack as captain, and Mabel as crew; but by and
by the captain grew tired and went off to sleep, with his head on the crew’s
knee, and the crew kept very quiet, for fear of disturbing him, and at last
went off to sleep as well.
And the tide crept nearer and nearer, and at
last the little waves washed against the “ Sea-swal-
low’s†sides, and the water grew deeper and deeper,
and then the boat floated away from the bed of sand
on which she had been resting, and the sea-gulls flew
round and round screaming, as much as to say,
“Mabel, Jack, wake up, for the boat is drifting out to
sea;†but the captain and the crew slept on.
The sun was setting, and the calm sea shone
like gold, as the troop-ship “Ganges†drew nearer
home. .
There was great excitement on deck, for one
of the seamen had reported that a small boat, without sail or oars, and
with two children in it, was drifting down the channel, about a quarter of
a mile from the ship. Groups of ladies and officers were watching the boat
that had been put off to rescue these little ocean waifs, and in a few minutes
afterwards the children were on deck. Mabel’s eyes were red with crying;
but Jack was bright and fearless as ever.
“Which is Papa?†he asked, gazing at the soldiers.
One of the officers, whom the others addressed as “ Colonel,†stooped
down and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“{ don’t think you'll find your Papa here,†he said.
“Oh, yes, I shall,†answered Jack, with confidence. “Papa and
Mamma are both coming home in a big ship from India; and Mabel and I
got into the boat to play at going to meet them, and I was captain and
Mabel the crew, and we both:went to sleep, and I think it must be a fairy-
boat, after all, for when we woke up there was nothing but sea all round,
-and then Mabel cried, and you know the crew oughtn’t to cry, and then we
saw the ship, and I knew Papa and Mamma were on it, for Aunt Ida said it
would be full of soldiers, and they’d all be glad to get back; and you do look
glad, don’t you?â€
CAPTAIN JACK.
Most of the officers laughed, and called him a plucky little fellow;
but the Colonel only looked surprised, as he asked:
“What did you say your Aunt’s name was?â€
* Aunt Ida,†answered Jack; “but the fishermen call her Miss Lock-
art and me ‘Captain Jack.’â€
The Colonel stood
up and called to one of the , x
ladies. os
“Mary,†he said, .
“come here; I have a sur-
prise for you. Now, little
man, tell the lady your
name, and what you are
doing here.â€
“My name is Jack
Morton, and we’ve come
to meet Papa and Mamma,
who are coming home. ; eA
Papa’s Colonel of the 6oth, - yey
cz, as
and —†ES
But the lady’s arms SS
were round his neck, and
she was kissing him as though ane would never stop.
“You are Mamma, aren’t you?†he asked.
“Yes,†said the Colonel, “ and when she’s done kissing you it will be
my turn, for I am your: Papa.â€
_ How the soldiers laughed and clapped their hands; and what a shout
they gave when one of them proposed, “Three dieeke for Captain Jack.
Three cheers for the Colonel’s boy.â€
“I knew we should meet them,†said ‘Jack, when, a couple of hours
later, Mabel and he were lying half asleep in one of the cabins. “But why
did Papa and Mamma go down on their knees and pray so when they put us
to bed. Papa said he thanked God we had been saved from such great dan-
ger. But there wasn’t any danger, was there?†But Mabel shook her head,
doubtfully. You see the crew was older and wiser than the captain.
R. K. Mounsey.
OUR KITTENS.
EE, our pet pussies
Come to be fed,
Out in the garden,
With nice bits of bread,
Soaked in a saucer
With milk, sweet and new;
Gladly we come when |
We hear their “Mew, mew.â€
Dear little kittens!
You are our pet toys,
To us your wild gambols
Bring ever new joys.
We always will love you,
And when you are old,
We'll still make you happy
And keep you from cold.
ERY high in the pine-tree
The little turtle-dove
Made a pretty nursery,
To please her little love.
She was gentle, she was soft,
And her large, dark eye
Often turned to her mate,
Who was sitting close by.
“Coo!†said the turtle-dove;
“Coo!†said she.
“Oh, I love thee!†said the turtle-dove;
“And I love thee.â€
In the long shady branches
Of the dark pine-tree, —
How happy were the doves
In their little nursery!
The young turtle-doves
Never quarrelled in their nest,
For they dearly loved each other,
Though they loved their mother best.
“Cool†said the little doves;
In this nursery of yours, “Coo!†said she.
Little sister, little brother, And they played together kindly
Like the turtle-dove’s nest, In the dark pine-tree.
Do you love one another?
Are you kind, are you gentle,
As children ought to be?
Then the happiest of nests
Is your own nursery.
Aunt Effie’s Rhymes.
THE FIGHTING FLOWERS.
= \ N J HAT are you staring at, Hodgie?†said Mother, one afternoon,
when she came up to the nursery.
Hodgie was standing at the window, his fat brown hands
clasped behind him, his Holland blouse looking rather bunchy and untidy,
instead of smoothly hanging down straight and neat below his red-leather
belt. And even when he heard his Mother’s voice he scarcely turned
round — only just enough not to seem rude — while he murmured or mut-
tered something about the wind and the flowers. But that tiny glance over
his shoulder was enough to show two things, — that his eyes were red, and
his face very solemn. Nurse gave Mother a look, which meant, “ There’s °
been some stormy weather up here, ma’am.â€
_ And Mother soon saw two other sights. Blanche was sitting in a
dark corner, pretending to be very busy, undressing her doll, and Nora was
not pretending anything at all, but letting the tears run down her cheeks,
while little sobs shook her every now and then, and there was a great big
hole torn in her pretty frilled muslin apron, just at the very front, where it
showed.
Sometimes it’s best not to seem to notice things; but it was no good,
pretending not to see Nora’s right-out crying.
Mother sat down not far from Hodgie and called Nora to her.
““What’s the matter, Nora?†she said. “Is it the tear in your pina-
fore yow’re in trouble about? It ds a pity. How did it happen?†.
At this the little girl burst out into a loud wail. Mother told her she
must not make such a noise, but speak quietly; and then “we'll see what
can be done.†So, after a bit, Nora told her story. It was partly her apron
she was crying about, “’cos Nurse said it were kite a new one,†and partly
alot of other grievances. There had been quite a breeze in the nursery.
“It begunned,†said Nora, “wif Hodgie wanting a doll to be the
queen in his percession. And Blanchie wouldn’t give hers, and she said -
must give mine. And I wouldn’t, cos Hodgie called her names.â€
“Whom?†asked Mother. ‘“ Blanchie?â€
“No; my dolly. He said she was a snub-nose, and he pulled her
nose and nearly brokened it, and he wouldn’t have her for his queen, and I
oy
THE FIGHTING FLOWERS.
catched him, and Blanchie took her dolly out of Hodgie’s arms, and we all
foughtened. And Hodgie gave Blanchie a bad slap, and her said he was a
cow,—not brave you know,—and that made him so angry that he cried,
and then my apron had got tored, and dolly was all scrumpled up, and I
cried, and it was all drefful. Slapping and pushing ‘like bad little tigers
and lions,’ Nora said.†And this long tale of woe was too much for Nora;
she melted into another flood of tears. .
Mother took her up on her
knee. “Come, dear, it’s no good cry-
ing any more. I feel sure Hodgie
and Blanchie are sorry, too. Suppose
you all three have a good making-up,
and kiss each other. It’s no use say-
ing who was worst; put all the wrong
into a bag of forgetfulness together, and
shake it up, and then open the bag
and take out some nice forgivings and
kisses ; that’s far the best plan.â€
The children couidn’t help smil-
ing at Mother’s funny way of putting
things. But they took her advice.
Blanche came out of her corner and
whispered, “Tm very. sorry;†and
Hodgie turned round from his window,
and said, “So am [;†and then the
kisses finished it all off comfortably.
But still the little boy turned towards the window, as if something he
saw there was very interesting.
“What is it you keep looking at so?†asked his Mother.
“It’s the f’owers,†said Hodgie. He was only five. “They does so
seem as if they was fighting —like—like us,†he added, in a very low
voice.
Mother looked out too. It was a windy day, and just on that side of
the house the garden was much exposed. The plants and flowers were
certainly flinging themselves about, and rapping and thumping each other,
rather wildly. She could not help smiling a little at Hodgie’s fancy.
THE FIGHTING FLOWERS.
“I hope the poor flowers didn’t hear what was going on up here, a
few minutes ago,†she said gravely. “It would be such a bad example.â€
Hodgie looked very solemn. Mother
was in fun, of course; but I don’t think he
quite understood that.
Not very long after, she went down,
stairs, having kissed the children for good-
night, for it was near their bedtime.
Hodgie was very quiet while he was be-
ing undressed; the last thing that he did, before
leaving the nursery, was to look out of the win-
dow. Yes, the hitting and slapping and shaking
were still going on; for the wind was rising.
“Tm afraid they did hear,†thought the
little fellow, as he fell asleep.
What was that sound? He heard it~
faintly, then more loudly; then, at last it seemed
to wake him quite up. It was a sound of cry-
ing and weeping, and amidst it he heard his
own name.
“Hodgie, Hodgie, do come down to us! We're so unhappy and so
sore and spoilt, and some of us are torn in pieces; and it’s all your fault.â€
Up jumped Hodgie, rubbing his eyes. Who was speaking to him?.
Was it Blanchie or Nora? No—he peeped into their room; they were
both quietly asleep —he could see them by the moonlight, which was very
bright. But again he heard that sad cry: “Hodgie, Hodgie, do come!â€
It came from the garden; and, without waiting to dress himself, down
he trotted. He did not feel cold; and, oddly enough, the door was open, so
he got out quite easily. But once in the garden, oh, what a sight! The
flower-beds were a mass of ruins; the tall lilies lying on the ground, all
their beauty gone; the roses crushed and broken; the sunflowers’ faces hid-
den in the soil, while from all sides came the woeful cry, “Oh, Hodgie,
Hodgie, it was your bad example!â€
What a night he had! Lifting up one, wiping the soiled petals of
others, tying and binding and straightening all that he could. Dear, dear!
never did gardener work harder than Hodgie in the moonlight, till at last.
things began to improve a little, and the garden to look less desolate.
THE FIGHTING FLOWERS.
Thank you,†whispered the bruised and repentant flowers; “we'll
go to sleep now till the morning, and we’ll never fight again, Hodgie,†and
with a sigh the little gardener went back to bed..
It was quite morning when he woke. The sun was shining, and the
wind had ceased. From the bedroom window Hodgie could see nothing of
the garden; but he begged Nurse to dress him quickly that he might have a
little run before breakfast, and he pattered off downstairs, as fast as he could.
When he got to the garden he rubbed his eyes with astonishment. It
didn’t look so very different from usual. Some of the flowers were strag-
gling and blown about, some few bruised and broken; but several lifted up
their faces, with sweet joy, to wish him and the sunshine good-morning.
And on one rose, which he stooped to scent, there was a drop of dew, like a
tear.
“Perhaps her’s been sorry, and is going to be good now,†thought
Hodgie.
But still— where were all the sticks and tyings up? — he remem-
bered fetching them from the tool-house so-well. He felt very puzzled.
Suddenly he saw some one coming— some one who liked a little fresh air
before breakfast, too. It was Mother. Hodgie ran to her and told her all
that had happened.
* My darling,†she said as she kissed him, “it was
a dream. Perhaps it was rather foolish of me to make
that little joke about your setting the flowers
a bad example; but still I hope neither they nor
the birds nor any one will ever hear quarrelling
or fighting, or anything but happy sounds,
through the nursery window again.â€
“We're going to be werry good chil-
dren,†said Hodgie; “ you’ll see, Mother.â€
And he trotted in to tell the wonderful
story of his dream to Blanchie and Nora and
Nurse. But,as he passed the flower-beds, he
shook his head; he was not guzfe sure but that
Mother was mistaken.
“They have been fighting some,†he said to himself.
a Louisa Molesworth.
on
LITTLE PUSSY.
LIKE little Pussy, her coat is so warm;
And if I don’t hurt her, she’ll do me no harm;
So TI not pull her tail, nor drive her away,
But Pussy and I very gently will play;
She shall sit by my side, and PH give her some food;
And shell love me, because I am gentle and good.
Pll pat little Pussy, and then she’ will purr,
And thus show her thanks for my kindness to Hers
Pll not pinch her ears, nor tread on her paw,
Lest I should provoke her to use her Sharp claw;
T never will vex her, nor make her displeased,
For Pussy doesn’t like to be worried or teased.
y.
UPS AND DOWNS.
OBBY and Freddy, a plank and a log,
And a dear little, queer little, curly-tailed dog,
Barking to give them a bit of his mind,
Because he was certain they’d fall off behind.
“I said so!†cried doggie, ‘ bow-wow-wow-wow!
I said you’d go over; come, didn’t I, now?â€
Then away to their mother the little dog sped,
To tell what had happened to Bobby and Fred. —
© Tis odd,†cried doggie, “and really not nice,
That children won’t listen to words of advice.â€
MY MOTHER.
HO sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.
Who ran to help me when I fell,
‘And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother.
Who taught my infant lips to pray,
And love God’s holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.
And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast so very kind to’ me?
My Mother.
When thou art feeble, old, and gray,
My healthy arms shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away —
My Mother.
And when I see thee hang
head,
*Twill be my turn to watch
bed,
thy
thy
And tears of sweet affection shed—
My Mother.
LITTLE RAINDROPS.
H, where do you come from,
You little drops of rain, —
Pitter patter, pitter patter,
Down the window pane?
They won’t let me walk,
And they won’t let me play,
And they won't let me go
Out of doors at all to-day.
They put away my playthings,
Because I broke them all;
And then they lock’d up all my bricks,
And took away my ball.
THE DEAD BIRD.
Tell me, little rain-drops,
Is that the way you play,
Pitter patter, pitter patter,
All the rainy day?
They say I’m very naughty ;
But Pve nothing else to do
But sit here at the window;
I should like to play with you.
The little rain-drops cannot: speak,
But “pitter patter pat†.
Means, “We can play on ¢hds side,
Why can’t you play on that?â€
THE DEAD
BIRD.
OOR, bonnie thing,
I heard him sing
The other day
A song so gay,
Why does he lie
there now so still ?
Is birdie ill ?
«T CAN’ T.â€
“¥ CAN’T do this sum!†cried a
little girl, in the school-room.
At once a queer little man
came in through the key-hole and
squatted down on her shoulders,
and began to laugh. He was the
“JT can’t†bogie, and was delighted
to hear the little girl call him.
“T can’t!†said she again.
The “I can’t†bogie grinned with ©
delight again, he was so pleased.
There was another little girl in
the school-room who held up her
slate.
“IT can do it!†she said.
The “I can’t†bogie heard her
and began to shiver,and looked very glum. Then the first little girl looked
up and saw the other smiling; and it made her feel crosser than ever.
“TI can’t do it!†she said. And the bogie felt better at once, and held
up his ugly head again. Then the second little girl came across the room.
“Let me help you!†she said, and she soon pointed out a terrible
mistake in the sum. The “I can’t bogie†left off looking happy. “ There’s
where it is wrong,†said the little girl. “Try again.â€
At these words the poor bogie began to grow white.
“JT will,†replied the other little girl, The bogie man shivered all
over. :
“[ve nearly done it!†she said again. The “I can’t†bogie
trembled dreadfully, and his teeth began to chatter. He turned up his
coat-collar, and tried to look as bold as he could.
“It’s done!†cried the little girl, in triumph. This was more than
the bogie could stand. He slipped off her shoulder, and stole ‘across the
room, and crept pce ey through the ney fle:
ee
OA
THE OLD PUMP.
N weather fine or weather bad
My little boy is always glad,
With many a skip and many
a jump,
To go for water to the pump.
"He likes to see the water flow
So fresh, from rocky bed below;
And then, with steady step, I
hear
His song or whistle drawing near.
And young and old together come
To fetch the precious water home;
And changes are in each one’s lot,
But still the old pump changeth
not.
And people come, and people go,
And little boys to manhood grow,
And still the pump’s a friend in
need,
And so becomes a friend indeed.
A
vend
aa aa SD aay,
THE GINGER-BREAD MAN.
HERE was once a Ginger-Bread Man, really a very fine fellow indeed.
He was made of the very best Ginger-Bread; and his face, hands,
and boots were all of beautiful colored sugar, to say nothing of
pockets and buttons, and a walking-stick made of the same sweet stuff.
But although he was possessed of all this finery, that was no reason why he
should turn up his sugar-nose at everything and everybody, and give him-
self terrible airs, which he most decidedly did.
In fact, he considered himself so very grand, he would hardly speak
to the wax-doils and the colored animals that lived in the Noah’s-ark, and
as to the plain wooden ones he didn’t even condescend to look at them; so
you can imagine he was not a favorite in the nursery.
“What a come-down in the world it is to be placed here with a lot
of stupid toys, after living in a shop window, with others of my family, and
being admired by all beholders,†he sighed to himself, hour after hour, in-
stead of making himself agreeable. ‘It is impossible for anybody to
appreciate me here; nobody knows what’ a
first-rate stuff ’'m made of. Bah!†Da eens
i te 4 Tt ty Wik, | i :
But it so turned out that the Ginger- if. Ve iy
Bread Man was mistaken, for in the middle aN, Sach TE
of the night, when the other toys were en- YB ai SULT
joying themselves (as toys always do when
everybody else is asleep), and the Ginger-
Bread Man was sulking by him-
self in a corner, there popped
out of a hole in the wall six ‘ |
little brown mice. : 7 F HM
There was the Father Se ¥ , &
and the Mother mouse and
their four children, and they 25
all were very hungry. “Oh, per ety
dear, what a beautiful man!†-
cried the four little mice, as
THE GINGER-BREAD MAN.
they saw the Ginger-Bread Man. “I should think so, indeed,†thought he
to himself. “Gracious me!†exclaimed Papa and Mamma Mouse, in one
breath, “he’s made of Ginger-Bread and Sugar. My dears, he is good to
eat; try him.†So they tried him. “Isn’t he lovely?†cried one. ‘De-
licious!†said another. ‘What first-rate stuff he’s made of!†said a third,
with his mouth full; which, by the by, was very bad manners.
So the little mice nibbled, and nibbled, and nibbled away, and in the
morning, all that was left of the Ginger-Bread Man was one sugar pocket
and four buttons. And nobody in the nursery was very sorry; every one
agreed that it served him right; for conceit and pride are sure to have a fall,
one day or another.
Edric Vredenburg.
APRIL SHOWERS.
H, happy is the time of Spring!
Oh, happy are our childhood’s hours,
When we can smile at anything,
And tears are only April showers.
Then shines the sun upon the field,
So gayly strewn with new-born flowers;
And early leaves a perfume yield,
Made sweetly fresh with April showers.
Then haste we to the old beech wood,
And make ourselves a shady bower,
Within a tree that long has stood
A shelter from the April shower.
The soft rain. patters at our feet;
The sun shines out in all his power.
Say, do you know a time as sweet
As sunshine mixed with April shower?
WO little froggies
sat under a mushroom,
And shelter for two
. there only was just room;
So the third little frog
he sat all alone, —
And so all the frogs
were as dry as a bone.
OLD FATHER SANTA CLAUS.
AID two little people, dressed in white,
“Old Father Santa Claus will come to-night;
But lest he forgets, or makes a mistake,
We'd better listen and be awake.â€
But when the nursemaid put out the light,
These two little people, dressed in white,
Rolled themselves up in the counterpane,
And did not dare to look out again.
So carefully did they wrap the clothes,
You couldn’t see the tip of a nose.
But when the bells were ringing ding-dong,
Old Father Santa Claus passed along;
“Whish,†he said, brushing the snow from his nose;
“Whew! how the east wind biusters and blows.â€
Then through the window he spied the bed;
“T have to call at this house,†he said;
“The chimney’s the proper way for me;
Why are they built so narrow?†said he.
In at the window he went instead,
Seated himself at the foot of the bed,
Filled the stocking with sweetmeats and toys, —
All without making the
slightest noise.
Now, wake little people, dressed
in white, .
Old Father Santa Claus came
last night; .
fle crammed your stocking —
and, children, look!
fle brought you a colored pic-
ture-book.
PUSSY «TO. TEA.
= USSY: cat, Pussy cat,
What are you atP
Where are your manners,
You bad little cat?â€
“Miou,†said the Pussy;
ee
Please, may I stay
To afternoon tea, ma’am,
For once in a way?â€
“Pussy cat, Pussy cat,
What can I doP
There’s no cup and saucer,
There’s no tea for you.â€
“Miou,†said the Pussy;
“Miou, ma’am,†said she.
“I don’t need a tea-cup,
I never take tea;
Some milk in a saucer
Is better for me.â€
MRS. PUSSY-CAT’S PARTY,
OR THE THREE LITTLE KITTENS WHO LOST THEIR MITTENS.
HE first we heard about the ball was from the Milkman. He was
a dreadfully late that morning, and we were nearly starving for want of
our breakfast, and were all looking out of the window, while Mother
stood at the door with the jug, wondering what could have detained him.
At last he came, shouting down
the street; but even then he
would have forgotten to call
had we not all shrieked out to
him to stop.
“Dear, dear!†he said,
“JT am sorry; to think I should
neglect you, who are some of
my best customers; but really I
have just had swch an order for
milk and cream that I was quite
upset. How I am to procure
so much for to-morrow, I really cannot imagine.â€
Of course we wanted to know who had given him the order, and
then it all came out. Mrs. Pussy-Cat was going to give a grand ball and
supper. ;
“They are all as busy as bees, writing out the invitations,†said the
Milkman, “and they wanted my boy Toby to take them round. That was
how I had the order at once; and they say they are going to ask King
Whiskerandos and the Prince of Taels, who are just now staying at Grimal-
kin Castle. Everybody knows that the Prince is looking out for a Princess,
so all the young ladies must put on their best frocks.â€
We had plenty to talk about over our breakfast, because we knew
that Blanche, Ruby, and I were certain to have invitations, for we were
quite in the highest circle of society. Sure enough, before we had finished,
MRS. PUSSY-CATS’ PARTY.
there came a ring at the bell, and Toby brought the most elegant little
card.
“T shall wear my blue,†said Blanche; “and Ruby, you had better
put on white. With your complexion, you are so difficult to dress.†“And
-what will Tabitha wear?†said Mother. “Oh, poor old Tabby!†cried
Blanche. “It doesn’t much matter. I’m afraid she won’t get many part-
ners; she always looks such a dowdy. But I wonder if the Prince of Taels
will really be there?â€
Don’t be rude to your elder sister, Blanche,†said Mother, severely.
“You are a conceited, vain, little thing, to think that the Prince will notice
you. But one thing, children, be sure and look to your mittens, and see
they are clean, and no holes. I knew a most elegant kitten who lost the
match of the season, because she had a little hole in her mittens— just one
tiny hole.â€
We had heard about that unfortunate kitten a great many times ;
but we listened with respect, and
took warning. We were old-fash-
ioned enough to think that Mother
knew best, so we found our mit-
tens, and examined them most
-
yrs : a= pa fll carefully; but they were all quite
: sound and good.
“We won’t wash them till
wh
LPB
een
to-morrow,†said Ruby; “ because
_ then they will be quite fresh and
2 nice. And now, don’t you think
CARR TE cone we had better practise our songs;
ae Mrs. Pussy-Cat knows what lovely
voices we have and will be sure
WO
{
ae
FN
oe to ask us to sing ?â€
Blanche agreed to this, and so did I, and we. began to practise.
First we sang about the Three Blind Mice, because that is always such a
favorite, and then we sang another newer song, which, perhaps, you have
not heard, so I will just write it down.
MRS. PUSSY-CATS’ PARTY.
Three Kittens went running out on to the roof,
Out on to the roof as the sun went down;
Each thought of the song that he loved the best,
And sang it out loud, to the joy of the town,
The joy of the town — the joy of the town,
And — sang — it — out — loud—— to —the joy of the — town.
We enjoyed our singing very much, and really worked hard at it;
too hard, indeed, for we were so absorbed that we forgot everything else
At last we were so hoarse that we left off, and shut up our book.
And then it was that our trouble began.
“Dear me!†cried Blanche, as we jumped down. “ Where are the
mittens ?â€
“T don’t know,†I replied, rather haughtily. “You younger ones
ought to have put them away properly. I know nothing of them.â€
“But where are they?†cried Blanche; “they were just here on the
floor, before we began to sing. It is no use quarrelling, girls. Just say
if you put them anywhere, Tabby?â€
“No!†I said. “I haven’t touched them.â€
“Good gracious!†exclaimed Ruby; “where can they be? We must
try and find them, for we can’t go to the ball without them, and Mother
will be so cross; I am sure she won’t buy us new ones.â€
Ob! what a morn-
ing we had. We hunted. [KA ona),
high, we hunted low; but Ent Sy agi
not a si f i Id a wate 3
en of a mitten cou es oe fm, Ba
we see. We turned out du i773 Nye My
wl SV Nffin % ‘ 3
thet z g i (iS 4 Aste
oe oe! at
every drawer and box; we
looked under the beds, and
up the chimney, but it was
The mittens were ch Sat ns ie “ae ait Sc:
een
oi
2
aâ€
ie
Sy.
no use.
quite gone— vanished — de-
parted in the most mysterious manner. Then we sat down and cried till
our nice furry frocks were quite wet, and our paws drenched with wiping
our eyes.
“We shan’t be able to go to the ball,†sobbed Blanche; “and I
MRS. PUSSY-CAT’S PARTY. |
shan’t be Princess of Taels, as I meant to be; and oh! I was going to do
such things for you, girls. You should have been my ladies-in-waiting,
and I daresay would have married dukes, and attended me when I was
Queen.â€
“Oh, well,†said Ruby, “that is all very fine; but the thing is that we
must find the mittens. Shall we have a notice printed and put up, offering
a reward? But hush—there’s Mother!†.
As soon as Mother came in and saw us, she knew something was the
matter. ;
“Why, children,†she exclaimed, “what
are you crying about? What is the matter?â€
“Lost your mittens,†she went on, when we
had told her, “you bad, untidy kittens. Very
be able to go to the ball, either.â€
If we cried before, I can tell you we
cried twice as much then, because there was
_ pigeon-pie for dinner, and we were dreadfully
fond of it. We brought our plates, and begged Mother to give us just a
little taste; but no, she wouldn’t. And, worse than all, she put some on
my plate and bade me give it to Boxer, who had just come in. Boxer was’
-a horrid little dog who lived with us, though we never liked him.
But I had to give it to Boxer and go without myself, though if we.
had known then what we knew later, not one taste he should have had.
Presently, however, Mother went upstairs, and we were left alone. I know
we were very naughty in what we did, but we were so hungry, and so mis-
erable with losing our mittens, and our dinner, and our ball, too, as we
thought; and the pie smelt so nice, and we crept a little nearer, and a little
nearer to it, and sniffed at it; and then Blanche put out her tongue just to
taste the edge, and Ruby leaned over the rim and got a little bite, and I—
yes—I did. I put in my paw boldly, and hooked out a.bit of pigeon.
It was Boxer told Mother, and, considering how everything was his
fault, I do think it was mean of him. And when Mother came down, she
—well, I can’t describe it; it is too dreadful to think of! We had had
such a wretched day that we went to bed early that night, and the next
well, then, you shall have no dinner; such care-—
less people don’t deserve any. And you won’t _
MRS. PUSSY-CAT’S PARTY.
morning we thought we would go out for a walk, to cheer up our spirits,
which were low. Perhaps, too, we might see some cheap mittens, and
persuade Mother to let us buy them. We were walking along, sad and
silent, and had nearly reached Boxer’s kennel, when, suddenly, Ruby startled
‘us by a great shriek. “ Look!†she cried, “it is he who has done it; the
ungrateful dog!â€
I can hardly tell you what our feelings were, when we saw the lost
mittens, some under Boxer’s pawas he lay in his kennel; some tossed about
on the rim of his pan of water. He, the base little wretch! must have come
- in while we were singing, and stolen our mittens and hid them, and then,
' worst of all, told tales about the pie, when it was all through his wicked ways
we had lost our dinner. We said a good deal to him to try and make him
ashamed of himself, though I don’t think he cared a bit; and should have
said a good deal more, only we were too anxious to mend our mittens, which
had suffered considerably from his teeth. In we ran and set to work, first
to wash them, and then to mend them; and, fortunately, we got them quite
ready in time to wear at the ball, which was that evening.
. Oh, the ball! I wish
I could tell you how lovely it
was — the music, the dresses,
the lights, the dancing, and
the supper. The last was
superb. There were roast
rat and friccaseed mouse, and
boiled sparrow and_ fried
smelts, and lots of cream and -
_milk, and everything delicious
you can imagine. And the
Prince of Taels was there —
‘the most charming of Princes— and though he didn’t fall in love with
Blanche, he did with somebody else; and the next time I write to you, I
daresay I shall have to date it from the Round Tower of Grimalkin Castle,
where the Heir to the Throne always has his apartments.
; M. A. Hoyer.
SUNNY DAYS
OF CHILDHOOD.
CvUNNY days of childhood !
Beautiful ye seem;
Fair as Spring-tide flowers,
Bright as Summer’s beam.
Days with joy o’erflowing,
Care nor sadness knowing,
Must ye pass away?
Happy days of childhood !
Swiftly moving on:
Into manhood changing,
Ye will soon be gone.
Like a streamlet flowing,
Pause nor stillness knowing,
Thus ye pass away!
Precious days of childhood !
Days of promise fair;
If bedewed with wisdom,
Rich the fruits ye bear,
Jesu’s footsteps keeping,
Blest shall be our reaping
In life’s harvest day.
Sunny days of childhood !
We no tears will shed
When, like spring-tide flowers,
Youth and health are fled.
Earthly scenes forsaking,
We shall hail the breaking
Of an endless day.
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