Citation
Aunt Mai's annual

Material Information

Title:
Aunt Mai's annual
Creator:
Steinthal, Francis F., Mrs., 1855-1921 ( Editor, Translator )
Mitchell, Alice, 1862-1916 ( Illustrator )
Hanson, Fanny ( Author )
Wildenbruch, Ernst von, 1845-1909 ( Author )
Green, Bessie ( Author )
Chester, Norley, 1863-1947 ( author )
Hoysted, M ( Author )
Archibald Constable & Co. ( publisher )
Place of Publication:
Westminster
Publisher:
Archibald Constanble and Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
[xii], 150, [2] p. : ill. ; 22 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1894 ( lcsh )
Hand-colored illustrations -- 1894 ( local )
Bldn -- 1894
Genre:
Children's stories
Hand-colored illustrations ( local )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- Westminster
Netherlands
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Some stories translated by the editor.
General Note:
Norley Chester is a pseudonym for Emily Underdown.
General Note:
Baldwin Library copy illustrations are hand-colored: probably by young owner.
Statement of Responsibility:
edited by Francis F. Steinthal ; with numerous illustrations by Alice Mitchell.

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:
026571764 ( ALEPH )
ALG1622 ( NOTIS )
177790203 ( OCLC )

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Full Text
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The Baldwin Library

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AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL









AUNT MAIS ANNUAL

EDITED

BY

MRS. FRANCIS F. STEINTHAL

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS
BY

MISS ALICE MITCHELL

WESTMINSTER
ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE
AND CO. 1894.



@Ordirated
to my numerous
Nueces and Nephews
who are to be found

all over the
World.











PREFACE.

HIS first annual goes forth into the children’s world,

in the full hope that it will there meet with a warm



welcome. Most of the contents have already appeared
in the Parents’ Review, and it is an appeal from the children
that has induced me to bring out a special edition. Many
of them have asked if they can have the budget in a separate
form, so that it could go on their own book-shelf, and could
be held in their own hands to read to themselves, the Parents’
Review not being suitable for such small readers.

I was fortunate to find an excellent Illustrator, who has drawn
a very artistic cover and pictures. If my nieces and nephews
approve of their annual I hope that they will tell other children

about it, so that they may all have a second magazine next year.

EMELINE PETRIE STEINTHAL.
Wharfmead,

Ltkley.









Keep a fairy or two for your children.

RUSKIN.

Come to me, O ye children!

And whisper in my ear

What the birds and the wind are singing
In your sunny atmosphere.

For what are all our contrivings,
And the wisdom of our books;
When compared with your caresses
And the gladness of your looks?

Ye are better than all the ballads
That ever were sung or said;
For ye are living poems,
And all the rest are dead.
LONGFELLOW.









I.
JIL.

Iv.

VIL
VII.
VIII.

IX.

XI.
XII.
XIII.

XIV.

CONTENTS.

IDA’S DREAM. By BEssiz GREEN .
A CHRISTMAS VISION. By Fanny Hanson.

THE TWO ROSES. By ERNnsT vON WILDENBRUCH.

Translated by the Editor.

THE BANISHED DWARFS. From the GERMAN

Translated by the Editor.

LITTLE COCK SPARROW. By Aunt Mat .

THE FLOWER ELF. German Fotk-LoRE. .. .. .
Adapted by the Editor.

JACK AND THE DWARFS. By Bessie GREEN.

THE STORY OF FANCY. By Nortey CHESTER .

THE VIOLIN PLAYER. By Aunt Mat.

CHILDREN’S GARDENS. By M. HoystEep

WHAT CAN WE MAKE? By Aunt Mar .

LITTLE COOKS

NURSERY MODELLING. By Aunr Mar.

WHAT SHALL WE PLAY? .

Page.

24
49
58
63
73
85

95

» 102

. 116

- I2r

. 130

. 140









IDA’S DREAM.
By

BESSIE GREEN.

@|DA was: very ill. She could not even sit up in bed;
| her head was hot and heavy, and ached dreadfully
if she tried to move it. All this was very disagreeable,
but the medicine the old doctor sent her was still
more so. Ida could see the bottle quite plainly from where she lay,
and at the sight of it two great tears came into her eyes and
rolled down on the pillow. It was a winter’s evening, and the



room was very dark, but a bright moonbeam came through the
window, and fell on the table at the foot of the bed where
the bottle stood. Outside it must be very cold; the branches
of the trees were thickly covered with snow, and they sparkled
and shone in the moonlight; the roofs of the houses were all
pure white. Ida could see all this, too, for the window curtains
were not drawn. It seemed to her that the medicine bottle
looked rather different from usual this evening. Perhaps it was
only because her eyes were filled with tears, and she could
not see very well; but no,—Ida looked again,—she had never



3 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

yet seen a bottle with feet and hands,—little red feet just the
colour of the paper cap on the cork,jand medicine bottles did
not usually possess a face, with two twinkling black eyes and
a very large mouth, which smiled at Ida in a friendly way from
under the red cap. The bottle began to nod its head at the
little girl, and waved its hand, then it began to walk across the
table on to the bed. It moved very stiffly and slowly, but at
last it reached the head of the bed, and seated itself on the
pillow, still nodding away at Ida, and smiling. Ida could say
nothing: she only stared in astonishment.

“J know you’re very much surprised,” said the bottle in a
squeaky voice: “you never thought I could walk and talk
did you?”

‘No,’ said Ida.

“But I’m not a real bottle, you see,” went on the queer creature :
“Tm not really a bottle at all,” and it heaved a deep sigh.

“What are you then?” said Ida.

“Tm a fairy,—a Moon Elf.”

“But why are you down here?” asked Ida.

“Tt’s a very long story,’ said the bottle: “too long to tell
you just at present. But I’ve watched you every day, and it
made me feel so unhappy when you had to take the medicine,
and when it made you cry. I’m so sorry you're ill, Ida.”

“Tt’s very kind of you to be sorry for me,” answered the
little girl. “I don’t like being ill at all: it isso dull lying here.”

“That’s just what I thought,” said the bottle, “and then an
idea came into my head. I have plenty of friends up there,”
and he pointed to the round face of the moon, ‘and if I may
take you for a journey through the air, 1 am sure you would
like it: it is so different from everything down here. We would
bring you back quite safely. Will you come?”



IDA’S DREAM. 3

“How can I?” asked Ida. “I can't even sit up.”

“Try,” said the bottle, stretching out a little hand to her.
Ida took hold of it, she sat up, then stood on her feet. Hand
in hand they walked across the bed to the table, and stepped
on to the patch of moonlight. Ida suddenly found herself no
bigger than her companion; and he, too, had changed. He was
now an elf, with red cap and shoes. His face, with bright eyes
and queer mouth, was just the same; but he was no longer
a bottle.

“Why,” cried Ida, ‘how different you look

“T have changed into my real shape for a few hours,’ said,
the Moon Elf. “But we must not stay: come along.” The

1?

room had vanished; they were standing on a long bright
bridge, which stretched away endlessly into the distance;
the Elf began to run, and Ida followed. The bridge at first
was very little higher than the sparkling roofs and snowy
trees, but by degrees they mounted higher and higher, till
the earth lay far beneath them, and the night surrounded them
on all sides. Suddenly the Elf stood still, and Ida looked about
her. They were alone in the midst of the wonderful sky—a
sky without stars or moon, blue-black, endlessly deep. Behind
them the shining bridge dwindled to a golden thread, and then
vanished. As Ida looked, she saw something white sailing
along towards them. It came nearer and nearer, and she saw
that it was a white fleecy cloud, which was being pushed
along by four elves, exactly like her friend, all with the
same queer faces and red caps, They had big brown wings
and sailed slowly through the air. ‘“ This,” said the Moon Elf,
turning to Ida, ‘is our cloud boat. We will get in, and then
if you like I will tell you how I came to be a medicine bottle.”
He jumped in, and turned to help her. She felt a little bit



4 AUNT MAIT’S ANNUAL.

afraid as she stepped off the bridge, but her foot fell upon
something very soft and downy, and soon she lay back in the
cloud boat, as warm and comfortable as if she had been in her
own bed. The Moon Elf seated himself opposite her. He
clapped his hands; the boat began to sail along; the brown
wings of the elves slowly rose and fell. Ida closed her eyes,
and listened to her companion’s story.




iy OE S al

Ie > ys Pees
ORS ee

ee Free cere Phe 4
ESE

AM Mitchell

“We Moon Elves,” he began, “are the servants of the Moon.
We must obey her in everything. We often are sent down to
the earth on some errand of hers, for wherever the moonbeams
go, we can go too. But if we leave the moonlight and step
out into the shadow we are no longer Moon Elves, but turn
into the first thing our hand touches. So we are always very
careful while on the earth to keep within the bounds of our
kingdom. We see a great deal of what goes on down there,
but of course we always come in the night, and I always wanted
so much to see what things look like in the daytime. I know
what they look like now, since I became a bottle,” and he



IDA’S DREAM. 5

sighed deeply, and then went on, ‘‘we are very fond of mischief,
and play all manner of tricks, and my misfortune came from
this love of mischief. We whisper dreams into people’s ears; we tell
the old miser that thieves have broken into his cellar and stolen his
gold, till he wakes up, and taking a candle in his shaking hand, goes
round to see that all is safe; but we love children, and whisper
pleasant dreams to them. One of the places where we most
love to go, is a room in the old doctor’s house. It is the room
where he mixes his medicines, and the moonlight streams through
two windows right across the table on to the opposite wall,
where there is a long shelf covered with medicine bottles. We
delight in this room, we play such splendid games of hide-and-
seek all over the table, and on the long wooden shelf, The
doctor’s son very often mixes the medicines, and when he is
there, we play fine pranks. We hide away the powders and
medicines which he needs, and while he is looking for them,
we upset his glass, or push it along to the edge of the table,
and clap our hands with delight, when it falls to the ground
with a crash. When he makes pills, we play ball with them,
and send them rolling into the corners of the room. Oh! we
play all manner of tricks. One evening we had been in the
doctor’s room for quite an hour; we had played hide-and-seek,
had hidden away the medicines, and done everything we could
think of. I was. sitting in the moonlight on the table, quite
tired, when one of my friends came sliding down from above
me, and gave me a little push. I lost my balance and fell
into the shadow; my hands touched something cold, then I felt
myself grow stiff, and square, and hollow—I was a medicine
bottle! It was terrible—too terrible—when the doctor’s son seized
hold of me, poured some medicine into me, tied up my cork
in a red cap, stuck a great label upon me, and sent me off to



6 AUNT MAT’S ANNUAL.

your house. My friends were dreadfully sorry for me, and they
all went together to our Queen to beg her to help me, But
the Queen said I had been so mischievous and had played so
many tricks that I deserved a punishment. For ten years I must
remain on earth, and if at the end of that time I am still un-
broken, I can take my real form again. But,” said the poor elf,
sorrowfully, ‘‘ten years is a long time, and glass breaks so easily.”

“You shall stay with me,” cried Ida. “I will keep you all
the time quite safely, so that you can go back again afterwards.
But how is it you are an Elf now?” she asked.

“For one night in the year I take my own shape for a few
hours, and may visit my friends,” said the Elf. “From where
I stood on the table I could watch you, and I was so sorry for
you, and thought -you would perhaps like a ride through
the air.”

“Ohl how kind of you,” cried Ida, “to think of me, when
you have only such a little time. I wish I could help you to
go back to your friends sooner, but I will keep you very care-
fully till the ten years are at an end, so that you will be
unbroken, and then——”

Suddenly the four winged Elves stopped in their flight, they
let go of the cloud boat, and hung perfectly still in the air,
with their wings folded. Ida’s friend fell on his knees, and bent
his head to the ground. Ida saw that the dark night sky was
gradually flooded with soft clear light, which seemed to come
from the far distance. It grew more and more dazzling, till
Ida saw that a beautiful lady was slowly floating towards them
through the air. She was so bright that the child could hardly
look at her, and her face was hidden by asilver veil. She came
nearer to the cloud boat, and looked at the kneeling Elf.

‘What are you doing here?” asked she. “Your Majesty,”



IDA’S DREAM. 7

replied the Elf, “it is the one night in the year in which I
am free.”

“And why is this little earth child here?” said the lady,
pointing to Ida.

“T was very ill,” said Ida, “and was so tired of lying alone
in the dark. And he was a medicine bottle at first, and then
turned into an Elf, and took me for a ride in this beautiful
boat. Please do not be angry with him.”

The lady smiled.

“Do you think he has been punished enough?” asked she.

““Oh! I am sure of it,” cried Ida. “Please let him stay here,
. and not be punished any more.”

“Listen,” said the lady, turning to the moon Elf, “during
the few hours in which you were free, you helped this little
child, and since she asks me to shorten your punishment, I
will do so. You need not go back to the earth again.”

The face of the Moon Elf beamed with joy, but he did not
move.

“You may go,” said the lady.

“T must take Ida home, your Majesty,” murmured the EIf.

“T will take her home,” answered the Queen, ‘now go.”

The Elf jumped up; he waved his cap in the air, nodded a
farewell to Ida, and then sprang out of the cloud boat, and
turned somersault after somersault till he was lost to sight.
His four companions opened their broad wings, and_ sailed
away slowly after him. The lady took Ida in her arms, and
kissed her forehead. A great drowsiness came over the child,
she felt dimly that she was falling, falling very gently and
slowly, then she knew no more.

When she opened her eyes the morning sun was shining
brightly into the room; a pot of sweet pink hyacinths stood



8 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

on the table in place of the medicine bottle, and her mother
sat by the bedside, watching her.

“OQ! Mamma,” cried Ida, throwing her arms round her
mother’s neck, “I’ve been such a wonderful journey, I must
tell you all about it; and I am so much better, I shall soon
be quite well.”

“My own darling,” said her mother, and kissed her many
times.





IT.

A CHRISTMAS. VISION.
By

FANNY HANSON.

DRAMATIS PERSONA—

THE CHRISTMAS FAIRY.
SANTA CLAUS.

ELSIE.

PHILIP.

Dick: Elsie’s Canary.
ROYAL: Philip’s Dog.
THE NURSE,

(In the First Scene the parts of Dick and Royal may be taken

by a real bird and dog, or by toy ones. In the Second Scene

they must be represented by children dressed in a way that
will suggest the characters.)









AM Mikekell



A CHRISTMAS VISION. II

SCENE I.—THE NURSERY.

(A cage, containing the canary, hanging near the windows, toys
scattered about and broken. Enter the Xmas Fairy and
Santa Claus.)

Farry: Dear Santa Claus, our task is nearly done.
From house to house we’ve wandered; one by one
We've looked upon each home, ourselves unseen,
Observed the children’s words and acts and mien
Before you left your gifts. Each child we test
Ere we bestow what will for it, be best—
(Looks round) No children here—we’ll wait till they return.
SANTA CL.: But something of their nature we may learn,
While they are absent, if we look around—
These broken toys, discarded, on the ground—
Are surely signs of carelessness, neglect?
Farry: Alas, you’re right. We cannot but suspect
They do not value what they have. Ah, here
Is something worse than carelessness, I fear.
(Goes up to cage) The cage uncleaned, no food, no water! Oh,
Tis cruelty to treat a creature so!
Poor little bird—in vain you peck the wire.
SANTA CL.: I hear them coming now—we must retire.
(They go out of sight, as Elsie and Philip rush in, chasing a dog
with a tin pail tied to his tail. Dog escapes.)
Puit.: Oh dear, he’s gone—it is too badi I vow
We have no fun at all with Royal now.
ELSIE: It isn’t fun to him perhaps. But dear!
There’s nothing else to do—it's stupid here.
Pui: Oh, s¢zupza’s not the word--it’s deadly slow.
I do want something new. I'd like to know
What we shall get this Christmas?



12 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.





















ELSIE: Why, you see,
Last Christmas you had Royal. Goodness me,
How pleased you were with him—and all your toys.
And now you hate them all. That’s so like boys!
PHIL: You needn’t talk, for you are quite as bad.
Just look at all the pretty things you had—
All broken up. And there is Dicky there, °
Your last year’s pet, and now you never care
To see he gets his food or water.
ELSIE: Well,
I can’t remember everything, I tell



A CHRISTMAS VISION. 13

The servants, but they never notice me.

Pll get him some just now—at once—you'll see—

(Goes up to cage, glances out of window and stops).

Oh look! Some mummers, Phil, upon my word!
PHIL.: (Starting forward.) Not really, Elsie?
ELSIE: Don’t they look absurd?

(Both look out of window. Enter nurse.)

PuHIL.: Oh, can’t we gol
NURSE: To bed? Of course you can.
PuHIL.: No, in the street! Just see that funny man!
Nurse:.Dear child, what stuff you talk!

Go out to-night?
You'll go to bed!

ELSIE: It really isn’t right
To send us yet—it’s Christmas Eve!
NURSE: It’s late,

You usually go to bed at eight,

And now, it’s nearly nine o’clock. And then
Your Christmas Day will come the sooner when
You're fast asleep. And you know what it brings |

ELsiIE: I hope some really nice new sorts of things,
I’m tired of all the old ones—

PHIL. : I am, too.

NuRSE: Well, run along to bed—the pair of you.

(Ereunt nurse and children.—Fairy and Santa
Claus come forward.)

Farry: Alas, poor bird. Your mistress gone to bed,
All thoughts of you are driven from her head,
And selfish fancies fill it.

SANTA CLAUS: Something new
They’re asking for!



14 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

Farry: And they shall have it, too.
SANTA CLAUS: No! No new toys or gifts for them,
dear friend;
We see from these their joy will quickly end
And turn to carelessness and scorn. To such
I give no Christmas treasures. Far too much
They have already, Better take away
The pets they tease and torture every day.
Farry: No gifts you shall bestow of common kind;
And yet I would that we could leave behind
A better spirit. Let it be our parts
To touch and waken these poor children’s hearts.
It is but want of thought. They do not feel
The wrong they do; but if we could reveal
Their actions to themselves without disguise,
And let them see themselves with others’ eyes,
Could we not make them better, wiser?
SANTA CLAUS: True,
’Twould surely be the kindest deed to do!
A better gift than any I can give
From out my store, and lasting while they live.
But how accomplish it?
Farry: You doubt my power?
Come with me now. I'll summon to my bower
These children we would teach true wisdom’s laws,
With them their living pets to plead their cause,
Transformed to mortal shape; and when that’s done
One lesson more, a last but bitter one,
Shall follow and complete our task ere day.
They'll wake with kindlier hearts. Now come away!
(CURTAIN. ]



A CHRISTMAS VISION, . 18

SCENE II.—Tue Fartry’s Bower.

(Fairy seated on her throne. Santa Claus standing near. Royal
and Dick behind the Fatry’s throne.)

Farry (Waves wand): Come Elsie! Philip! come, obey my call!
Come from your slumbers to the Fairy’s hall.
(Enter Elsie and Philip in night dresses. They stare about.)
ELSIE: Where caz we be, and pray how have we come?
We can’t have walked barefooted, Phil, from home?
PHIL: I cannot think. Oh, who are these? (Pointing to Fairy
and Santa Claus.)
ELSIE (Going towards Santa Claus): I know; (Clapping her hands
with delight): It's Santa Claus!
PHIL: This zs a jolly go]
We'll ask for what we want just right away.
(Zo Santa Claus): 1 want—I want (Putting his hand to his
forehead and pausing.)
I don’t know what to say!
I want a heap of things, but yet—somehow
I can’t think what they are—at least not now.
Perhaps you'll let me look, sir, at your store,
Is it all here, or have you something more?
ELSIE (As Santa Claus remains silent, looking at them):
He doesn’t answer you—you’re not polite,
And so he'll give you nothing—serves you right!
(Zo S. C.): Dear Santa Claus, I know you'll not refuse
To let me look a little—just to choose
My Christmas gifts.
SANTA CL. (Sternly):
No, no, you are not here
For Christmas gifts or play—We shall, I fear,



16 AUNT MA?’S ANNUAL.

Much disappoint you both. We know you well,
Have visited your nursery —Could tell
Sad tales of how you treat your playthings—How
They’re tossed aside and broken up. Well now
Those who ill-treat the things they have—from me
Get nothing |
ELSIE: Nothing! What a shame to be
Treated like this. I’m sure we’ve always been
As good as other children I have seen.
We're just as careful with our toys—in fact
I think we're rather better.
FAIRY : So you act
Quite to your satisfaction I suppose?
PHIL. (SwZkzly): We're well enough.
Farry: You think that no one knows
The way you treat your faithful dog, poor Roy?
PuiL.: I guess I act like any other boy,
I only tease him now and then a bit;
It doesn’t hurt him.
FAIRY: Dear me, doesn’t it?
And you? (Zo Elsie).
ELsIE: f haven’t got a dog at all.
Farry: No, but your bird, poor thing may feebly call
All day for food and water—and in vain.
ELSIE: Oh dear, why I’ve forgotten him again |!
But then he doesn’t mind it as we should.
FAIRY: You're sure of that?
ELSIE : It’s surely understood
A bird is different from a child. Of course
He doesn’t like it, but it would be worse
If he were free; he gets some food you see,



A CHRISTMAS VISION. 17

And wild birds starve quite often—
FAIRY: But are free,
And therefore happy. Well, it’s very true,
That birds and dogs are not like Phil and you,
Not altogether, But that you may hear
Just what they think and feel, I’ve called them here,
To let you know their side.
PHIL. (Laughing): They cannot speak.
Why, Roy can only bark.
ELSIE : And dicky squeak.
Farry : Come forward, Roy and Dicky.
(The two come from behind the throne.)
PHIL. : Who are these?
Farry: This is poor Dick—this Royal, if you please.
ELSIE: Can this be Dick? The colour’s right, I own.
Puit.: And Royal’s altered—I should not have known
The dog again. And yet he’s got the thing
I fastened to his tail.
ELSIE : And Dicky’s wing
Has lost the feather that he dropped. Why, yes,
It must be so. I really cannot guess
How they have altered in this way, and yet
I feel they are themselves.
PHIL. : They don’t forget
Us either, I can see, they’re staring so.
I wish we hadn’t come.
ELSIE : Well, let us go.
Fairy: Oh, no, not yet. Come, Dicky, tell us true,
What does your little mistress do to you?
Dick.: She never gives me anything to eat,
She never makes my prison clean and neat,



18 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

She never gives me water. There I stay,
And long for her to notice me each day.
And now and then a kindly servant comes
And fills my water-glass and scatters crumbs,
Or else I should have died. Such cruel pain
I suffer, and I cry and cry in vain.
‘Tis hard to be deprived of liberty.
But harder still to pine away and die—
Ah, once my mistress loved me—long ago.
But now, I am forgotton—quite |
ELSIE : No! No!
Oh, Dicky, dear, I never meant—you see,
I never thought you cared and felt like me.
Dick: I’ve suffered hunger, and I’ve suffered thirst.
But, ah! to lose my mistress’ love was worst.
To feel forlorn, neglected—no caress
Is lavished on me now. I used to bless
The loving hand that fed me, and the voice
That spoke endearing words to me—rejoice
When Elsie’s step I heard—
ELSIE (luterrupting): Oh, Dicky, dear,
Don’t say another word, and never fear
I'll treat you so again. Poor little bird,
And so you cried and Elsie never heard!
(Begins to pet Dick).
Farry: Now, Royal, tell what tortures you endure.
Roy.: Alas, kind Fairy, I am very sure
Your heart will break to hear them. I’ve no peace,
Hunted and dragged about without release!
And such indignities—why, look at chat,
(Pointing to the pan fastened to his clothing)



A CHRISTMAS VISION. 19

I can’t think anyone would treat a cat
In such a manner.
Puit.: Nonsense Roy, dear me,
It doesn’t hurt you!
Roy.: , Doesn’t it? You'd see
If you had pans and kettles tied to you!
PuiL.: Well, well, perhaps — but still, it isn't true
I'm always teasing you. It’s only fun.
You know I never mean to hurt. No one
Could be a better master on the whole.
Roy.: I’d like to see a worse! My friends condole
With me and pity me. A year ago
When I first came to you, it was not so—
You fondled me and praised me — for my part
I loved you from the bottom of my heart—
What have I done to change you?
PHIL: Nothing!
Roy: Well,
Why you should treat me so I cannot tell.
PHIL.: It's just because I’ve nothing else to do,
And so, poor dog, I take to teasing you.
Yes, it is mean, I own it. Never mind,
If you'll forgive me, I'll be just as kind
As I know how to be.
Roy: Forgive you? Yes,
All is forgotten with one kind caress.
(Phil pets Roy.)
SANTA CLAUS:
Forgiving creatures! Will this really last,
And will the children not repeat the past?
Sometimes they may forget and once again



20 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

Poor Roy and Dicky suffer want and pain.

Once more that creatures feel they may forget.
Farry: Too true, I fear. We have not finished yet.

No, they must feel themselves in very fact

The pain that others suffered by their act,

And by experiencing the self-same case,

They’ll learn to put themselves in others’ place.

(Lo Hisze) Sleep! And in dreams a helpless bird

you'll pine.
(Yo Philip) Sleep! In your dreams a wretched
dog you'll whine.
(The children fall asleep. Fairy advances to front and
waves her wand.)





Fairy: Spell-bound they’re lying. Visions of the night
Hover around and haunt them till the light.
[CURTAIN. |

SCENE II].—TueE Nursery.

Christmas morning. Canary in cage. Enter Fairy and
Santa Claus.

SANTA CLAUS: Now, e’er I leave the world another year,



A CHRISTMAS VISION. 21

I fain would hope I'd left behind good cheer,

And happy loving hearts. Is it too late

To give these children something?

Farry: Stay —we'll wait

And listen to their words. I wish to know

If they have really laid to heart or no,

The lesson we would teach them. Here they are,

Let us go back and watch them from afar.

(Retire as Phil and Elsie enter from different doors.)
ELsIE: Oh, Philip, do you know, I’ve had such dreams?
Pui: And so have I!

ELSIE: You know it hardly seems

As tho’ I'd slept at all. I feel so queer,

Quite tired out—(Gotng up to cage) Oh, Dicky, are you here?

I dreamt I saw you and you talked—

PHIL: Oh, yes!
And said you starved him.

ELSIE: Why, how did you guess?

PHIL: I must have dreamt it, too.

ELSIE: Well, Roy was there,
And told how you behaved.

PHIL: Well, I declare
We must have dreamt the same. The Fairy Queen
Sat on a throne—

ELSIE: And Santa Claus—

PHIL: (Solemnly, looking hard at her): We've been
In the same place—it can’t be dreaming.

ELSIE : No,
It was so strange—they would not let us go
Till we had heard it all.

PHIL: Yes, that was it!



22 AUNT MAIS ANNDAL.

Exsiz: And then—I can’t remember—stop a bit,
Yes—then I was a bird it seemed.
PHIL: A bird!
ELSIE: Yes, in a cage, I know it sounds absurd.
But, oh, I was so hungry and so sad!
PuiL: J was a dog and that was just as bad;
I had a horrid time—they gave me blows,
And did all kinds of things. Oh, no one knows
All that I suffered,
ELSIE: Well, I never knew
Or heard such things. I wonder was it crue
Or only dreaming?
PHIL: There’s one thing at least,
Never again will I ill-treat a beast
The way I used, because, you see, I know
Just what it’s like. I think I’d better go
And find poor Royal, shall I?
ELSIE: Yes, poor thing,
And I'll take Dicky. He’ll begin to sing
When I have fed him, I dare say. Poor dear—
He hasn’t got a grain of seed—I fear.
(Laking down the cage) Oh, cheer up, Dicky, I’ll be good, I vow,
And never, never treat you badly now.
(Exeunt Phil. and Elsie—the latter carrying the cage. Fairy
and Santa Claus advance to the front.)
SANTA CL.: This zs success—we’ll hope that they will keep
Their resolutions bravely. Shall I seek
Some Christmas gifts for them within my pack
And leave them waiting here till they come back?
Farry: No, Santa Claus; the gift we leave behind
Is surely something of a better kind



A CHRISTMAS VISION. 23

Than anything you carry. This one night

Has taught these children something—to do right

To those dependent on them—to be good

And kind to all, for they have understood

That others feel as well as they. We leave

A better spirit, kinder hearts, which grieve

For all the past. And let us leave them so.
SANTA CL.: Agreed—we’ll only say farewell and go.
(Lhey retreat as the children enter and gaze at them in astonish-
ment. Fatry and Santa Claus wave their hands and go as the

curtain falls.)

FINIS.



Il.

THE TWO ROSES.
By

ERNST VON WILDENBRUCH.

a)NCE near a great city in which many rich and poor



| people lived, there dwelt a gardener, who possessed
ij a large beautiful rose-garden. Roses grew in it of
= every colour and every kind. The gardener understood
his- business well, and sold his roses to the people in the city.

Many came and bought—at least the rich people came, for
the gardener asked such high prices for his flowers that the
poor people could not afford to buy them.

There were two roses blooming in the garden, more beautiful
than any that had hitherto lived there. The two rose-bushes
stood in the same bed, so near to one another that when the
roses bent their heads they could almost touch.

It thus came about that the roses were mutually pleased ;
they called each other “thou,” and although not altogether alike
in features—one having delicate yellow leaves with a red centre,
the other being snow-white from its outer leaf to its heart—and
although they belonged to different families, they considered



THE TWO ROSES. 25

themselves sisters, and trusted one another with all their secrets.

When they did this such a sweet aroma came from their lips
that the garden around them was filled with delicious perfume,
and their tender cooings were so pretty to witness that the
little beetles, who run busily to and fro on the earth, would
stand still, lift themselves up, and say, “ See, the roses are again
telling each other something. I wonder what it can be?”

What the roses were considering was their future. They
were so young they had no past to speak about, but the future
looked to them like a beautiful dream.

They knew quite well that they were the most beautiful roses
in the garden; they saw that every day in the delighted looks of
the gardener; they heard it from the lips of many a customer,
and they felt it every day when the morning-wind swept round
the garden and drove away the night from their little heads, so
that they could see and nod to each other. The whole garden
offered homage to them.

So it came to pass, that, although the two roses were as good,
and as well meaning as roses ought to be, they grew rather
proud, and had great expectations regarding their future fate.
It could only be a king, or a prince, or at any rate avery rich
man, who would buy them and take them to hishome. About
that they agreed, and their greatest trouble was that one should
be taken to one place and the other to another. That was their
only sorrow; they loved each other tenderly, and when the
thought came over them the roses would each shed a single
large tear, which, when the daylight appeared, lay like a
glittering drop in their chalices, and that was always pretty to
see. Yes, it was so beautiful that the morning-wind, who passes
over many lands, and who is therefore an authority in floral
beauty, would halt in astonishment before them, make a bow,



26 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

and say, “To the truly beautiful everything lends grace, even
pain.” Then the two little sisters would nod to him, and say,

“Oh, you are a nice young man, Mr. Morning-wind. You are
so lively in the early morning:” at which the morning-wind
would feel very much flattered, and would tuck his coat-tails
under his arms, and fly far away.

So the days went on, and many visitors and customers came
into the garden; but no purchaser was found for the two roses;
it was as though every one felt unconsciously that they were to
be reserved for a brilliant future. But one beautiful summer’s
evening a magnificent open carriage drove up to the garden door,
and stopped there. The two roses could see down the garden,
through the iron gateway, and as soon as they saw thecarriage
their hearts began to beat-as though they felt that some change
was coming to them. And they laid their heads together, and
whispered their thoughts to one another. A coachman sat on
the box, and next to him a man-servant, and both had coats
and hats with broad gold bands; and the roses, being unused
to the world, thought, when they saw such splendour on the
box, that these must be the principal people. But a little lady-
bird, who had been in many big houses, and who had even once
sat on the hand of a real Princess, came up to them, and when
he heard what the roses were saying, said to them, “Not so!
Only the servants sit on the box. You must look atthe people
inside the carriage.” So the roses looked very hard, but they
did not care for the people in the carriage; the lady was not at
all young, and not at all pretty, and the other, a gentleman, had
a huge black beard.

While the roses were exchanging their opinions, the little
ladybird began again, saying, “Why, you two really don’t
understand anything of the world at all; don’t you know this



THE TWO ROSES. 27

man is the richest banker in the city, and the lady is his wife?
Why should you want rich people to be pretty ?—that is left for
poor people, who have nothing else.”

The roses were ashamed of their ignorance, and blushed, and
that made them look fairer than ever.

The gentleman and his wife alighted from the carriage, and
behind them came a little dog that had silvery white hair, and
was so round that he could only slowly waddle, all the time
making a melancholy face, and from time to time he gave a
little bark, which sounded as if he were saying, ‘Go away, get
away!” The gardener stood at the garden door, took his hat
off, and made a deep bow. The gentleman nodded slightly to
him, but the lady passed by him, looking into the air. When
the ladybird saw that, she called out to the roses, “Now you
can learn something; see, rich people must behave as this lady
does; then they understand how to be rich.’ The roses,
however, felt a little ashamed of their bad taste, for they had
not really liked this behaviour.

The procession swept down the garden walk straight to the
place where the two roses stood, and with every step the lady
took, her silk dress rustled, so that it seemed to say to all nature
around it, “Hush-sh-sh! I am from Paris, I am from Paris.”

The gardener followed with his hat in his hand, and pointed
them to right and left, now to this rose-tree, then to that, and
the lady stood from time to time and raised her eye-glass
to her eyes, and when the gardener had spoken so long that
he was red in the face, she slightly opened her lips and said,
“All that is nothing.” Then the poor gardener made a long
face, and the little dog barked, as if to say, “Serve you right,
serve you right,’ and the husband nodded to the gardener and
said, ““You must give my wife the very best.”



28 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

At last they came to the two roses, who were looking out
with great round eyes, and here, for the first time, the lady
stopped of her own accord. She raised her eye-glass and
looked at them.

When they saw the glasses turned on them, they timidly
bowed their heads, and a tremor of shame came over them, and
as they stood with bent heads, they were so lovely that even
the lady could not help being impressed. Then she said, in
order to show her approval, “Well, that possibly might suit
me.” When her husband heard this, he felt he must also say
something, so exclaimed, ‘Truly, two fine specimens. What
is the price?”

When the gardener named a sum, the lady cried “Hoo!”
and held her ears with both hands, and the husband said:
“Good gracious! that is very dear.’’ ‘“ Besides, 1am only speaking
of the yellow one,” continued the lady; “I can’t do with the
white one, but the yellow one will just suit my tea-roses.”’
“Yes,” said her husband, “I also thought it would add to your
collection of tea-roses;” then, turning to the gardener, he said,
“My wife has the finest collection of tea-roses in the town.”

A bargain was soon struck, and it was arranged that the
lady’s gardener should call for the yellow rose the next day;
and then the gentleman and lady, and the little white dog,
stepped into their magnificent carriage and drove away. When
the roses were quite alone, they felt very sad, for they knew
that now the hour had come when they must part, perhaps for
their whole lives, and they laid their cheeks together, and cried
into one another’s hearts.

The white rose whispered to her sister, “Oh! you happy
sister! Ohl! you happy sister! Why cannot I meet such a
glorious fate as you?” and deep, deep within her heart, there










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30 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

arose a little bitter drop of envy, because she was obliged to con-
fess that she had been considered less beautiful than her sister.

So they stood, locked in each other’s arms, not noticing that
other customers had entered the garden, and were looking at
them. They looked up on hearing two children’s voices crying,
“Ah! father, father, the white rose, it is too lovely,’ and saw
a man standing before them, holding a child in each hand, one
a boy, and the other a little girl, These were the children who
had called out, and all three looked at the white rose with
admiring eyes. She, however, was not at all pleased, for the
man looked very different from the rich gentleman; he wore a
threadbare coat and a round felt hat, and the children were
also shabbily dressed. She did not like being admired by these
poor people, after the rich ones had rejected her, so she turned
away her head, as much as to say, “Go your way, 1 am not for
such as you.’ The gardener seemed to think this too, for he
came back from the garden gate, and looked very much sur-
prised when he saw them standing before his loveliest roses.

The white rose could scarcely believe her ears when she
heard the poor man ask the gardener what she would cost.
He asked timidly, it is true, but he asked it, and that appeared
to the rose a great impertinence. She rejoiced inwardly when
she heard the high price named by the gardener, and when she
saw the sorrowful face of the poor man. But the two little
children ‘pressed closer to their father, and the little boy cried,
“Oh, dear, dear father, please buy the beautiful rose; and the
little girl said, ‘Only think, father, how pleased mother would
be when you brought the lovely rose home.”

Then, for the first time in her life, unkind and naughty
feelings came into the white rose’s heart, and she was angry
with the children, and would have liked to sting them with her



THE TWO ROSES. 31

thorns. The poor shoemaker, for that was the man’s occupation,
looked silently at his children, then wrote something in the sand
with his stick, as though making a calculation, and then, going
to the gardener, he said, as though excusing himself for his
temerity, ‘“‘“My wife has been so ill, but is now a little better,
and I wanted to give her a great pleasure, and because she
likes roses—especially white ones—so much, I thought——”’

“But I cannot take less,” interrupted the gardener, and the
white rose murmured, “That’s right, that’s right.”’ The children
looked anxiously at their father, and he drew out his purse and
counted and ‘counted until the white rose trembled in silent
agony from her roots to her head.

Suddenly she felt as though a hailstorm had burst over her
head, and thought she must faint, for she heard the shoemaker
say, “Well, it is a great deal of money, but, all the same, I'll
take the tree.’

She threw her arms round her sister’s neck, and cried and
shrunk back, but her anger and grief only made her look more
beautiful, and the children stood by and clapped their hands.
The gardener received the money, then took the tree out of
the ground, and the white rose felt with a shudder that the
poor shoemaker took her in his hands and carried her out of
the garden, never more to see her beautiful, happy—ah! so
much happier—sister.

The next day, according to orders, the yellow rose was
taken to the house of the rich people, and she felt as proud
and as happy as a young princess. She had every reason to
be delighted; the new home to which she had come was very
gorgeous. The house was in a suburb where only very rich
people lived, and only the richest of the rich lived in this
particular street. The streets were so stylish that when a



32 AUNT MAIS ANNUAL.

carriage drove through, the horses stepped lightly, so that
the peace of the inhabitants was not destroyed, and in the
houses were so many treasures that the air was filled with
gold-dust, and the sparrows when they flew through the street
always came out again with golden tails. Looking through
an artistically wrought-iron gate, you saw that before the house,
next to the street, was a little garden with yellow gravel. Behind
the house lay the real garden, which was very large and roomy.
A brick wall surrounded it, so that no one could look in.

This was the new home of the yellow rose, and in a moment,
as she entered it, she saw that she had come into very aristo-
cratic society. In the middle of the garden was a big round
lawn, and this was as well cut as the head of a man who goes
every day to the hairdresser; round the lawn were beds, and
in the beds were flowers of every variety, so that the air spar-
kled and glowed with their scent and colour.

In the middle of the lawn was a circular bed, and that was
the most distinguished place in the whole garden. There stood
a little wood of roses— yellow, yellowish, greenish yellow, and
reddish yellow roses; and this was the collection of tea-roses
of which the rich gentleman had spoken the previous evening.
Towards this place the gardener, who was carrying the yellow
rose, bent his steps.

Then it appeared for the first time that there was something
naughty in the heart of the yellow rose, for when she saw how
all the flowers in the garden bent their heads to her, and looked
at her attentively to see what the new-comer to the select
bed was like, she felt very vain, and looked at them proudly,
thinking to herself, “What are you all compared with me?”’

It is true that her pride fell a little, and she was even
embarrassed, when she arrived in the middle of the lawn and



THE TWO ROSES. 33

was planted there, for all the tea-roses looked upon the,new-
comer with curiosity. She felt as if the looks pierced her inmost
heart, and at the same time she heard a buzzing and hissing of
many anxiously-whispering voices, which almost deafened her.

It was quite natural that the whisperings and hissings should
be about her, and here and there, out ofthe multitude of voices,
a word would strike her ear.

“ Another one! did you think we had too much room?”

“Quite the reverse; it’s getting much too crowded.”

“T really should like to know what our worthy mistress is
thinking of.”

“We were evidently no longer pretty enough—hi! hi!”

“‘Have you seen the new-comer?”’

“Ves, yes; she is just passable.”

The yellow rose, who had kept her eyes on the ground,
now dropped a curtsey, and raised her glowing face. She
then saw, close by, a few old rose-matrons, who nodded to
her in a friendly and compassionate manner, just like an old
court lady who nods to a poor little débutante stepping shyly
for the first time on the slippery floor of the court. But she
saw at once that the rose-matrons were very beautiful, and so
were all the roses about her; and she felt that she was no
more the only one of her kind, but that she now stood with
many of her equals.

What gave the roses a very stately appearance were little
wooden tablets which each wore round her neck, and on these
were written the name of each rose, her descent, and the place
of her birth.

What wonderful tales they told. There were roses who had
come from China; others from Japan; again, others from the
East Indies; and one even from the Island of Bourbon. Yes,

3



34 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

the society she found herself in was truly very distinguished.

The gardener soon returned with the little tablet that was
to belong to the yellow rose, and while he was hanging it round
her neck the hissing and chattering ceased, while all the roses
stretched out their necks to see who the new-comer was and
where she came from. Scarcely had the gardener left them
when the babel broke out again, only louder and more spiteful
than before. It was quite true that they saw from the tablet
that she belonged to a good family, and had pure rose blood:
but that was selfunderstood, or she would not have been
admitted at all; but her birthplace—her birthplace! ‘Born in
this place,” was written on her tablet, and one can imagine how ~
agitated the roses from China and Japan, the East Indies, and the
Island of Bourbon were. It passed from one to the other like wild-
fire. “Only think of it, she comes from here, only from this place |’

One of the proud rose-matrons nodded to her compassion-
ately and said, “You poor child, you must have had a very
joyless youth; you cannot have had many friends!”

“Oh, yes!” answered the yellow rose, quickly; “I had a
friend, a white rose, with whom I grew up.”

The rose-matron pulled a face, and said in the most shocked
tone, “But, my dear child, a white rose?’ and it sounded
as though she would like to say, “Don’t speak so loud; you
make yourself ridiculous.”

A second rose-matron pretended not to have heard, and
said in a loud voice, “You were friendly with a white rose?
Really with a white rose?”

The poor yellow rose began to feel very small as she heard
the whisper spreading—“A white rose has been her friend ””—
for she had not known before how very dreadful that was. The
first rose-matron came to her again, and said, “My dear child,



THE TWO ROSES. 35

I really cannot believe it. A white rose is nothing for you.
She is much too common.”

The yellow rose was overcome with shame that she had
so little understood the ways of the world, and that she had
hitherto so under-rated herself. She was quite confused, and
said with a trembling voice, “Well, it was perhaps a little
too much to say we were friends.”

“Yes, I thought -so,” said the rose-matron; “the person
probably clung to you, and you were too good-natured to shake
her off.”

When the yellow rose saw all eyes turned on her, her
courage forsook her, and she said very softly: ‘Well, yes,
that was it.”

Scarcely had she said it when her heart felt very heavy, and
she hung her head, and heard nothing, and saw nothing that
went on around, but cried silently to herself.

In the meantime the white rose was carried by the poor
shoemaker towards the city, and the vehemence of her grief
was drowned in dumb, blunt despair.

Resistance was useless she knew full well, so she resigned
herself to her sad fate, and her beautiful head hung exhausted
and sad.

The road was very long, the shoemaker had no money for
driving, so he was forced to go on foot. The father went before,
and the two little children tripped hand in hand after him.

They went further into the city, where the streets grew hotter
and closer, and when they saw the rose hanging her head, the
little brother said to his sister, “Ah! look at the poor rose;
how tired she looks; she must be too hot.” And the sister
answered, “She must be thirsty, and as soon as we get home
we will give her something to drink.”



36 AUNT MAI'S ANNUAL.

The little children held their hands under the rose’s head,
so that the blood: should not flow into her face as when it hung
so low; and they changed with one another, so that now the
brother held her and then the sister, and the latter said con-
stantly, “Oh, you poor lovely dear rose; only wait till we
get home.”

The white rose submitted to this, as she now did to every-
thing; but she shut her eyes, and would not look at the
children, and wouldn’t thank them—she felt the greatest enmity
towards them, they were the cause of all her unhappiness.

At last, at last, just as it was growing dark, they came
to the poor shoemaker’s house. Then the white rose opened
her eyes and looked round. The street was very nice, and
the house they entered was very stately; but— but— when
they came into the hall, and the door had closed behind them,
the children opened a glass door to the left, and from this
door they descended many steps, and the poor rose suddenly
learned that she was henceforth to live in a cellar. And so it
was—the poor shoemaker was a porter in the stately mansion.

A cellar dwelling! And that was the fulfilment of her castle
in the air!

The heart of the white rose was once more filled with despair, and
she only had one thought and one wish-—that she might soon die.

The children ran quickly down the steps, and their voices
were heard crying, ‘Mother! mother! See what we have
brought you!”

On a poor sofa that stood in the room lay a pale weak
woman, and while the children sprang to her and encircled her
in their arms, the poor shoemaker stepped before her, and
raised the white rose in both hands without a word.

Two tears came into the large astonished eyes of his sick



THE TWO ROSES. 37

wife, and she folded her hands and looked first at the rose
and then at her husband, so that no one could tell if she was
looking with delight at the beautiful flower, or if she was
thanking God silently that she had such a good husband.

At last she said anxiously, “Oh! what a beauty! But the
magnificent rose is much too beautiful for us; do be careful,
children, that we take great care of it.”













The children did not require telling twice. They ran out,
and soon returned with a big flower-pot that was filled with
nice soft black earth, and in it they planted the white rose.
Then they placed the flower-pot on the table, and got a little
watering can, and watered the earth very well.

Then the white rose stood on the table, in the middle of the



38 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

dark room of the poor people, and when she hung her head
on her stalk she looked like the pale child of a king, who has
been captured and. taken into exile.

Soon the children ate their evening meal. Each had a piece
of bread with very little butter, that was all; but they seemed
quite contented, and sat on a cupboard near the table on
which the rose stood, letting their legs hang down, and ate
their bread and butter, looking and nodding ather. They then
went to bed; and soon the other watchers retired to rest, and
the light was extinguished, and silent night drew on. Every-
body slept—only the white rose could not sleep; her bitter, sad
thoughts kept her awake.

Suddenly it was light; and see,
that must be the moon looking
through the window. She sent a

‘ broad, silver, white streak into the
room on to her dear white rose,
with whom she had so often had
a chat; and the rose was pleased,
for she felt she was not quite
forgotten, and bathed herself in
the soft, white light. It may have
been the magical light of the
moon; she often induces wonderful
thoughts and dreams. The rose
imagined she dreamt a strange
dream. It seemed to her that two ee
angels came into the room, two dear little angels, who stepped
with their bare feet on the floor, with long fair hair, and their
white little bodies only covered each with a little shirt. They
drew two chairs to the table and stepped on them, and putting





THE TWO ROSES. 39

their faces close to the rose, kissed her gently, first on her
leaves, then on the sweet-scented chalice.

The rose shuddered and trembled, and drank the breath from
the young lips with intense pleasure, and yet could not account
for such a strange wonder.

Then the little angels sprang from the chairs, drew them on
one side, and laughingly vanished—where? Why, where the
children went when they were sent to bed. The two she had
taken for angels, and thought so pretty, could they be the two
children? The discovery destroyed all her pleasure in the
imagined dream; she wished only to feel angry with them. In
spite of that she could not lose the remembrance of how sweet
it was to be kissed by the little lips; and when the daylight
came, and the shoemaker’s family came into the room, the rose
looked at the children for the first time. She had hitherto kept
her eyes closed. Then she saw that they really were two pretty,
nice children, with fair curls and large eyes, and loving friendly
faces; and she could not doubt that these were the angels who
had crept out of bed to secretly kiss and pet her.

As soon as breakfast was over, the father said to his children,
“To-day is such a lovely day, we must put our rose in the
garden.”

The children took the flower-pot in which the rose stood, and
carried it up the stairs, out of the house door into the little
garden before the house, that was shut off from the street by an
iron gate, and placed her there in the midst of the warm
morning sunshine. Now the rose could look into the street,
and she saw the carriages and the passers-by, who went up and
down, and everything was so new and beautiful to her that,
in spite of herself, she began to feel quite comfortable.

Just behind her, on the ground-floor, was the shoemaker’s



40 AUNT MAIT’S ANNUAL.

window, which stood open, and behind that sat the shoemaker
on a high stool, making shoes and boots.

The rose looked up and saw into the room behind him, and
there the morning sun was playfully disporting himself, and the
room did not look so sad as on the previous night, but very nice
and clean.

The children came again out of the house with school maps
and slates to go to school, and just as they were going out of
the gate they nodded to the rose, and said “We'll see you
again,” and although the rose would not even acknowledge it to
herself, it was very pretty to see them. While thinking about
them, she heard a voice behind her say, ‘Good morning,
Madam Rose.”

When she turned her head she saw a canary ina cage, which
was hanging at the open window. He had two sharp black eyes,

?

and a little white beak, which went on to say—

“Good morning, Madam Rose. I had no opportunity yester-
day to speak to you. Will you allow me to introduce myself?
My name is Piping.”

The simple manner of the canary pleased the white rose, and
she gave him a friendly bow and entered into conversation, and
asked him how old he was, and how long he had been at the
shoemaker’s. Mr. Piping sighed, and said he was no longer
young, he was already a year and twelve days old, he had just
celebrated his birthday, but he had only been three months at
the shoemaker’s, and he hoped to spend the rest of his life with
them. When the rose further asked him why he liked the shoe-
maker so much, he rolled his eyes round and said—

“They are angelic people—especially the children,” and was
then so affected that he was obliged to take a little sip of water,
because he felt his tears were coming.



THE TWO ROSES. 4I

The sun rose higher, and the rose began to feel very warm;
but the children soon came back from school, and took the flower-
pot up and carried her into the room, where it was cooler. They
did this every day, always considering what could be done for
the pleasure and benefit of the rose.

So much care and thought was bestowed on her that the
rose one day felt a little bud was peeping forth. Just before
it burst out, and the eyes of the whole family were anxiously
turned on it, the bitter anger once more rose in her heart. She
did not wish to give them this pleasure, and would not give
the bud any nourishment, and, only imagine! the shoot was
blighted, the bud did not open, and the hopes of the poor
family were dashed to the ground.

They were very sad indeed, and at this moment the master
of the house came in—a very rich man—who saw how precious
the rose was, and said:

“That is only what I expected. How could you expect the
rose to flourish down here? I'll tell you what. Let me buy
it, and plant it in my garden.”

He then named a sum much higher than that which the
shoemaker had given.

But, all the same, he only answered:

“Yes, sir; what you say is quite true; but, see, we love
the rose so much, and when we look at it, we imagine we also
possess a garden, and, if you won't take it amiss, I would
much like to keep the flower for another two days, to see if
it won't get another bud. If it does not, then I will sell it
to you.”

The master left the room, but any one could see he was
much vexed.

The rose, who had heard everything, felt a ray of happiness



42 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL

in her soul; she now had a slight hope of deliverance from the
hated home. She only wished to find a beautiful fate in a rich
man’s garden. She was quite decided how she would act.

When night drew near, and everything was silent and asleep,
the children again crept lightly into the hushed room, with
naked feet, in their little shirts, just as they sprang out of bed,
like two little angels. But this time they did not laugh, and
when the moonbeam fell upon their faces, they looked very pale
and sad.

When they again fetched their two chairs, and climbed on
them, and kissed the rose, they cried, and their tears flowed
into her chalice.

‘Now we have nothing left,” they whispered. ‘We have no
rose, and no garden any more; we have nothing.” Then they
went back to their beds.

When left alone, the rose shut her eyes, and tried to sleep;
but she could not. Something burnt her heart. It was the
tears of the children, that had fallen on it. The next morning,
when it was quite early, and nobody was up, something knocked
at the window, and in came the morning-wind.

The rose had not seen him since she had left the garden, so .
she was delighted to see her visitor. The morning-wind went
up and down the room, blowing the dust from the furniture and
ornaments. Any one could see he was much excited.

“T’ve just come from your sister,” he said, “from the yellow
rose.”

The white rose was very curious to know how she was going
on, but the morning-wind, who was formerly so lively, had
become quite serious.

“Ah,” said he, “it’s a sad tale; she is not getting on very
well. The tea-roses, among whom she is so lost that I could



THE TWO ROSES. 43

scarcely find her, are very cross and ill-natured to her; but
soon all their glory will be at an end.”

“What do you mean?” asked the white rose.

“Well,” said the morning-wind, ‘do you know what whims are?”

‘““No,” answered the rose.

“Well,” continued the morning-wind, “they are little beetles,
so costly that only rich people can afford to possess them.”

“What do they want them for?” asked the rose.

“Qh, to play with, to while away the time,” he said. “They
let them fly about the room, and then catch one, and put
it on their heads.”

“How wonderful!” said the rose.

“Yes; but it is now the fashion,’

“The banker’s wife, in order to show that she is very rich,
possesses a crowd of these beetles. She plays with one,

’

said the morning-wind.

sometimes two, and even three, every day. She puts them
on her head, and lets them sit there, until they squeeze and
pinch her—for the beetles, you must know, have sharp little
nippers; and then she cries and screams until her husband
comes to her. He takes the beetles from her head, and throws
them out of the window; and so they pass the time away.
Now, you must also know that when people have these beetles
on their heads they always have many ideas, and imagine a
great deal. So the banker’s wife has suddenly found out that
she is tired of roses, and would prefer camellias. When the
autumn comes, the tea-roses will, therefore, be torn out of
the earth.”

‘“What will then happen to them?” asked the rose, anxiously.

“They will be thrown away,” answered the morning-wind,
“and our poor yellow rose, your sister, among them. Are
you surprised, now, that I am so sad? Yes, yes,” he continued,



44. AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

seeing the white rose was stunned by the news, “you have
done much better. You are tended and cared for; and here
are no black beetles to be afraid of.” And then he sighed,
‘and taking up his coat tails, flew out of the window.

The white rose was completely stupefied, and long after
the morning-wind had disappeared she thought she heard
his voice again, “You have done better for yourself.” And
suddenly her heart began to whisper and repent. Yes, the
rose felt ashamed of herself; and when she looked deeply
into her heart, the shame said to her, “You ungrateful
creature!’’ And when the shoemaker’s family came in, and
she saw the children’s sad faces, she saw again before her eyes
the dreadful words, “You are ungrateful!”

The rose felt a sudden stab in her innermost soul, as though
she had slept and had suddenly awakened; and when the
children put her in the garden, she drank up the pure cool
water they gave her, and ate of the soft black earth, so that
Mr. Piping called out, “Your good health, Madam Rose.”

The rose felt as though she were changed--her blood and
sap flowed here and there like a spring, and scarcely had two
days gone by, when a little bud appeared, and one eye peeped
out. And when the children—who had anxiously watched for
this—ran and called their parents to see the new wonder, the
rose laughed so much to herself that a second bud jumped out,
and, as though there were no end to her joy and delight, there
came a third. When the shoemaker stood on the threshold
one morning with his pale wife and two pretty children, they
stood spell-bound before the beautiful picture, for there on the
table stood the loved head ‘of their dear white rose, looking
with motherly pride on two young little snow-white roses who
had sprung out of the stem in the night.



THE TWO ROSES. 45

The roses bowed and waved, and from their lips came a
sweet scent that made a paradise of the dwelling of the poor
people, and if they could have understood what the roses were
saying, they would have heard the words, “Our love to you
for all yours to us; our thanks for all your goodness.”

The whole house rang with the happy cries of the two
children. Everybody living in it came down to see the beautiful
flowers, and when the rose-family was taken into the garden,
the passers-by remained standing in the street, and the white
rose felt that her beauty was enjoying a triumph.

Everybody was pleased, with the exception of the master
of the house, who was very angry, and the thought gnawed
and ate into his heart that the poor shoemaker would not
grant his request, and would not sell him his rose. Now, as
anger is a dangerous inmate, that, if not quickly got rid of,
gets the upper hand, he felt every day more angry and
vexed with the poor man; and when the autumn came the
poor shoemaker’s family sat one day with sad faces and
weeping eyes. The master had discharged the father, and
they must leave the house. A deep cutting pain ran through
the soul of the rose, for who was the cause of the unhappiness
of the poor people but herself?

Again night came, and with it a new dream. This time
it was not a pleasant one, but very terrible and sad. Instead
of the two children, a dreadful old man, all out of breath,
silently dragged himself into the chamber where the children
lay asleep. The rose had never seen anything so gruesome
as this figure; never heard anything so awful as the hoarse
whisper that came from his hideous, toothless mouth, and
when she saw him enter the bedchamber her blood ran cold.

A curious yellow light played round the figure, and by it



46 AUNT MAIT'S ANNUAL.

the rose could see how the dreadful man bent over the children,
stretching out his lean hand over their heads, and how the
sweet little faces grew pale, and they began to cry bitterly.
The rose felt so very sad, she lifted up her head to the sky, and
her lips murmured, “‘Save them, save my little innocent friends.”

From her trembling lips there came a scent that filled the
room. When the old man noticed it he came out and said to
her, “Do not smell so sweet; you have no right to remain here.
I am Hunger! Hunger! and I am now the master of this place.”’

But the rose lifted up her voice once more to’ heaven, and
prayed more intensely than before, saying: ‘‘Oh, let me repay
these poor people for all the love they have shown me. Let me
give to them what they cherish and love more than anything
else—their children |” ’

Her delicious scent became more intoxicating than before.
The looks with which the demon tried to transfix her became
more and more furious; but all of no avail, he could not
master the scent, he could not return into the bedchamber,
because it filled the space between him and the door like a
cloud. So that in the end he turned away quite dazed, and
stumbled out of the room.

A few days later the poor shoemaker, who had sought work
day after day, returned. His sad face was full of delight, for
he had found a situation. “In the richest suburb,” he said “is
a new house belonging to a banker, who is the richest man in
the town.”

The white rose listened, it sounded so familiar to her, she’
could not tell why, and her heart felt light when she knew
that the sacrifice of her scent had been accepted.

It was, indeed, the splendid house of a wealthy man which
the family came to live in.



THE TWO ROSES. 4]

“Only think,’ the father said one day as he entered the
room, ‘‘how rich our master is! His wife has suddenly torn up
all her beautiful rose-trees to plant camellias in their place;
and the gardener has given me this pretty rose, because it is
not healthy, and would not sell.”

It was, indeed, the yellow rose, grown pale and sickly, who
had come to die in the arms of her happier sister.

“Alas! the yellow rose is dead,” said the little sister, as
she took her brother by the hand the next morning; “how
sad our rose looks! she has been crying:” and so it was;
in her chalice lay a tear-
drop.

Then a strange thing
happened. Suddenly the
boy’s eyes grew larger and
brighter than they had
ever looked before, and
he stared at the white
rose, as though he saw it
now for the first time.
Without a word, he took
a slate and began to draw.
The little sister watched
him, but did not speak, '
and the two sat, and sat, : AH Ata



and forgot breakfast and

everything else, and only stood up when they had to go to school.
He put his slate into his school-bag that no one should see

what he had done, as though he had a big secret to keep.
Two days later the shoemaker sat down by his wife and said:

«Marie, Anton’s teacher has been speaking to me, and says



48 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

we must take great pains with him, for he has seen a rose the
boy has drawn, and thinks Anton may some day become a
great artist. What do you say?”

But the wife did not answer, only her eyes grew larger and
looked far away.

The shoemaker spoke low, that none should hear him, as it
was a secret. But the white rose heard, and shared the joy
of the parents.

Would you like to know what happened afterwards to little
Anton? Perhaps I will tell you another time.



IV.

THE BANISHED DWARFS.

GERMAN FOLK-LORE.

=qN a far distant country is a high mountain, in which
for many, many hundred years tiny dwarfs have lived,
so clever, that they could always make with their hands



all that they saw with their eyes. They made the most
beautiful jewelry, so fine that no human hand could copy it; and
the dwarfs kept the secret of the manufacture to themselves;
and when any man came near the mountain they would
all run to a big room in the very interior, where not even a
moonbeam could creep in. They had in this room millions
of little lamps, made by themselves. These dwarfs were under -
a king, whom they had always to obey, and when anyone did
something that was wrong, the king’s herald would summon
everybody, with three trumpet calls, to the great hall, where
the king gave the punishment. One day the trumpet sounded
louder than ever; the dwarfs who were working, left their work
at once, and those who had a clear conscience, hurried as fast
as they could into the hall, so as to get near the king; but
those who knew they had not been good, slipped quietly into
4







THE BANISHED DWARFS. 51

the back: of the hall, and hid themselves behind the others, ho-
ping the king would not see them.

The king sat on his throne of rock crystal, carved for him
by the dwarfs so cleverly that the. million lamps were reflected
from every point. He wore his crown, set with many precious
stones, on his. head.

When the dwarfs had bowed down so low before the king
that their noses touched the ground, and. all were as still as
twenty mice, the king began:

“My dear brothers and subjects, when you chose me to be
your king, we took counsel together as to the best laws we
could make to keep peace in our country, and we concluded
that peace and order were to be observed. Say, was not that so?”

“Ves, yes,” answered all the dwarfs.

“Then,” continued the king, “did we not decree that every-
one in our city must have a special duty to perform, and must
be responsible for it being rightly done? Say, am I not right?”

“Ves, yes,” shouted the dwarfs a second time.

“So that you may fear the results of wrong-doing,” the
king continued, “we decreed that every dwarf who did not
obey us, must go out into the world and serve human beings.
Speak—was that not so?”

“Yes, yes,” cried the dwarfs the third time.

“So far, so good. Now let the naughty dwarfs come for-
ward to learn their punishment. Hip, Hop, and Hup, step
forward!”

The three dwarfs came up with drooping heads,

“You, Hip,” said the king, “yesterday. forgot to get oil
from the oil-well, so that the lamps could not be lighted, and
the whole kingdom was in total darkness during the evening.
We therefore banish you, and order you to go into the eye



52 AUNT MAIS ANNUAL.

of a needle belonging to a poor old half blind woman, and
to sit there so that you can help her with her work, When
she is too tired to put the cotton through the eye, you must
seize it, and pull it through, so that the poor woman is saved
time and work. You must sit there till the needle breaks.”

Hip made a very sad face, but he could of course make no
remark. He bent one knee before the king, and left the hall
and mountain without once looking round.

“Hop,” said the king, “you have been equally careless.
You have not cleaned the steps and passages properly, and
have left dust and stones on them, so that we have stumbled,
and nearly fallen over them; therefore I command you to go
into the left shoe of a baby who is just learning to wall, to
live between the sole and the leather over it. You must
always be on the look out, and when the child lifts its right
foot, you must jump out and remove any stone over which it
could fall, before it puts its left foot down, and there you must
remain until the shoe is torn.”

After this speech Hop made
a deep bow, and left the hall.

“As for you, Hup,” said the
king, “you have been naughtier
than Hip and Hop. You have
run about on the mountain at
night time, and have’ exposed
our gold and silver and crystal
to the moonlight, so that man-
kind if they had seen them would
have come to search for our
treasures, which we hide from all human eyes. You shall
therefore be shut up in a long round dungeon that man has





THE BANISHED DWARFS. 53

just invented, and called a kaleidoscope. You must sit there
and make wonderful pictures for the children of men, and no
picture must resemble another, but you must always invent new
ones until the glass door of the prison is broken.”

Hup was very unhappy at the thought that perhaps for many
years he would be shut up in one room, but like the others,
he dare not speak, and sadly left the mountain.

After the three had thus departed, everything went on as
formerly ; for the dwarfs were careful to behave well after hearing
these sentences. But one year had passed, when the great trumpet
was again heard, and called the dwarfs to the great Hall. The
king sat again on his throne, and on the lowest step knelt Hip.

“Behold, brothers and subjects,’ said the king, “our brother
Hip has completed his sentence as we ordered, and has come
once more to us, and we have called you together to hear what
lesson he has learnt.

“Mighty king,’ answered Hip, ‘my experience has been a
simple one. I lived in the eye of a needle, with an old woman,
who sewed from morning to night. She wore very big spectacles,
and when she threaded her needle, she held it very close to
them; but in spite of this, the thread always bent over, or to
the left or right of the eye, and the poor old woman would sigh
deeply, for every moment was precious. After I came to live in
the eye, I used to stretch my hand out and catch the thread,
and pull it quickly through it. This, of course, greatly delighted
the old woman, who imagined her eyes were getting better and
younger. She sewed and sewed until one day the needle and
thread fell on to her knee, and her head sank on her chest. So
the neighbours found her, and a cry arose, ‘Alas! our good
neighbour is dead.’ One woman took up her work, saying, ‘I
will finish the hem for her at any rate.’”’ She put the needle in



84 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

with such force that it broke, and I sprang away, having got
my liberty.’

“Well done,” said the king, “we will forgive you, and receive
you once again, and hope you will always remember the lesson
you have learnt.”

Hip bowed and thanked the king, and then skipped off joy-
fully to his old friends, and wished with them that Hop and
Hup would soon return.

The wish was soon fulfilled in Hop’s case, for one month
later he stood in the big hall, and told the king the story of
his imprisonment.

“T ran into a nursery in a very big house. It was very early
in the morning, and in one bed lay a most beautiful child in
deep sleep. The nurse was even then busy preparing the clothes
for the day. On a chair stood a pair of dear little shoes. I
skipped in between the sole and leather of the left shoe, and
quietly waited until a lovely lady came into the room.”

“Does my little boy sleep still?” she asked.

“Her voice awoke the child, who stretched out his fat dimpled
arms, and they kissed one another so. tenderly that I nearly
cried in my prison. Then the nurse dressed the boy, and at the
last put on the two shoes, because he was beginning to learn
to walk.”

“Oh, I do hope he won't fall < as he. did yesterday,” said his
mother. “ Look at the bruise on his poor arm.”

“To their surprise the boy not only ran about without
falling, but jumped and sprang about as though he had walked
for years. The parents were delighted, and told everyone of the
cleverness of their child. One day when he was running in the
park with his mother, a gipsy woman came up to her and begged
her to let her tell her fortune. She turned the woman away,



THE BANISHED DWARES. ge

and to avoid her, went down a side walk. When she returned
to look after her child, she found him crying because the gipsy



AM Mitehell

had taken his pretty shoes. So I came on the foot of a wild
gipsy child. He could not walk, but spent his days in kicking
stones and walls with such force that I saw, to my joy, that the
shoes were getting worn. At last one day the child kicked so
hard against a root of a tree that the sole was torn off, and I
escaped and came here.”

Hop was forgiven as Hip had been, and was allowed to live
again with the other dwarfs.

Poor Hup did not fare so well as the others. He sat in his
kaleidoscope, in a toy-shop, and when any customer took him
up, he made the most perfect pictures ever seen. But such



56 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

toys were no more new, and no one seemed inclined to buy
it. At last a father came with a spoilt daughter who did not
want to have any more dolls, and did not know what she: did
want. At last she decided to have the kaleidoscope, and took
it home, and played with it one afternoon, and then put it
into a cupboard and forgot it. There he sat many years. The
child grew up. Once she opened the cupboard to get out
something she wanted, when she caught sight of the kaleido-
scope. She held it to one eye.

“ Ah,” she said “how curious that I enjoyed this so much
when I was a child, and now I don’t even think it pretty.”
She held it to the sewing maid, who, after she had looked
through, cried, “Ah, if only I could buy one.”

Her mistress laughed, and said, ‘“‘ You are very easily satisfied,
if such an old plaything pleases you.” The poor girl sighed.
“Take this if you like,’ said the young lady, who was in a
very good temper; “it is only in my way.”

The maid took it with many thanks. She knew very well
what she wanted to do with it. She had a brother and a
lame mother to keep. He helped a little by writing, and the
mother by sewing, but they were too delicate to do much. The
brother also drew designs, and the moment his sister saw the
wonderful pictures, she at once thought that it would be ofthe
greatest use to him. Hup understood his duties well, and
showed the artist such exquisite and new designs, that he rapidly
got a name for his good work, and the merchants in the town
soon kept him working from morning to night. Hup was so
happy when he saw the bright faces of the brother and sister,
and often lay awake at night thinking out new designs that
would bring more fame to the family. At last they became so
rich that the kaleidoscope was no more needed, and it was put



THE BANISHED DWARFS. 57

in a place of honour in a cupboard behind a glass door, by
the side of the bridal wreath of the brother's bride, and there
it remained one, two, three years and more. One day, one of
the brother's little sons, who was just old enough to play with
tin soldiers, caught sight of it, and cried until his mother gave
him the kaleidoscope in his hands, and Hup, who had had such
a. long rest, had to remember how to make new patterns once
more. The little one was not satisfied with looking only, but
wanted to see where the pictures came from, and he pressed
the glass so hard with his fingers that, snip snap, the glass flew
into a hundred pieces, and he found inside only broken pieces
of coloured glass and pearls. But if he had been very sharp
he would have found a tiny stool of pure gold, on which Hup
had sat for twenty years.

But dwarfs do not count time by years, and do not grow
old so quickly as men do, so he did not find his old friends
much changed, and when he returned once more to his old
happy home, he was delighted to find everything as it had
been in the past.





V.
LITTLE. COCK SPARKOW.

A tale for little children, who do not lke to be
dressed in the morning.

By THE EDITOR.

NE morning, Mr. Cock Sparrow was suddenly awak-
ened by a tremendous blow, which knocked him over
the side of his little nest on to the ground at the foot
of the old oak tree, nearly breaking his neck with the
force with which he fell on the earth. He first turned his head

round to see if it were dislocated, then stood up on his two

little legs and looked up to see who had wakened him so





LITTLE COCK SPARROW. 59

cruelly. On second thoughts, as he could only see the anxious
face of Mrs. Sparrow looking for him over the side of the nest,
he made up his mind that perhaps the best thing would be to
fly up, and enquire if she had knocked him over. So up he
flew, and getting very red in the face with temper, said:

“What did you kick me out of bed for?”

- “Oh, my dear,” said his meek little wife, “I should never
dream of doing such a thing. I was fast asleep, when I suddenly
heard a great noise, and when I opened my eyes, I could not
find you, and I was so frightened.”

“Who can have dared to treat me in such a manner?” said
Cock Sparrow, hopping round his nest with rage. “I might
have broken my neck! Oh, I am angry!”

“Father,” said a little voice, ‘I think, I know, I saw the twig
you always sit on, when you sing for us, come and knock you
out of bed.”

Cock Sparrow was so pleased that he had found out who his
enemy was, that he flew away and quickly returned with a very
fine worm for his eldest son’s breakfast, then off he flew to the twig.

“How dare you pitch me out of bed this morning? You are
very ungrateful after the songs I have sung to you, and I'll
never call on you again.”

“Dear Cock Sparrow,” said the twig, “I was just putting on
my best green dress to come and apologize to you. I would
not hurt a feather of your head for the world; but just as I was
waking up, Mr. North Wind gave me such a push, that I came right
across your nest, and could not help upsetting you. Do let us
be friends still, and do sing for me again.” And the little twig
was so unhappy, that she shed dew-drop tears.

Little Cock Sparrow made an elegant bow, and said, with a
very grand air:



60 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

“Madam, I freely forgive you, but—but—where does the
North Wind live? I must go and fight him, or he will think he
can take any liberty with me.”

“T cannot tell you where he lives; but I know he always
comes over that hill yonder, so perhaps you had better get
to the other side, and then ask your way.”

“T thank you, madam, good morning, said Cock Sparrow
very politely, for he was a true little gentleman.

He then went home and asked his wife to pack his port-
manteau, while he put on his best coat, trousers and tall hat.
When ready to start, he kissed his wife and children, and taking
his portmanteau under his wing, flew bravely over the hill.
When he got to the other side, he began to feel a little tired,
and his bag was rather too heavy, so he
wisely opened it, and taking out his dress
clothes, which he had thought would
make an impression on the North Wind,
threw then down to the ground, where they
happened to fall just before the nose of
a little chicken, who picked them up and
ran to his mother. Of course, she dressed



him at once in the suit, and he was soon

LA Mehl

the centre of an admiring crowd of hens

and chickens, who were very much taken with the coat-tails.
After this, all the chickens were so anxious to wear trousers,
that they cultivated feathers on their legs, and to this day get
all the first prizes in shows.

A butterfly he met, told him he must go further north, and
fly over another hill. Before he could get'quite over, he again
felt so tired and faint, that he opened his portmanteau once more,
and took out his tie and collar. They fell down by a large



LITTLE COCK SPARROW. 61

caterpillar, who was on his way to be married, so he at once
put them on, and was greatly admired by the bride and
bridesmaids. °

Cock Sparrow managed to get over the hill at last; but it
was very hard work, and his wings were very weary, so he said,
“Why should I carry an empty portmanteau? My wife gave it
me, so I am sorry to lose it; but, still, here it goes!”

So down to the earth, came the portmanteau, where it was



u

ames IN ~—
Bh De eh Si - AN ehel

soon captured by an industrious moth, who thought it would
make a capital chest for his winter provision.

Then Cock Sparrow met an owl, who told him the North
Wind lived many miles away, and that he had yet a river and
another mountain to fly over. So much exercise made the little
traveller warm, and as his head was beginning to ache, he took
off his hat and coat and threw them away.

The hat was picked up by a mouse, who hid it in’ an old



62 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

water-butt, because, he said to himself, the day might come when
he might like to wear it, especially when the sun was very hot.

The coat was found by a black beetle, who cut it up and
made winter top-coats for his family.

As Cock Sparrow was passing over the last mountain, he met
an eagle, who told him, that the North Wind lived just at the
other side and that he must knock atthe front door of his house,
and he would answer it. His house was a cave in the mountain,
the front door had a very large key hole, so he would soon
know it. Cock Sparrow thanked him, then kicking off his trousers,
as he was by this time very much exhausted, he struggled on,
until he found the door. He knocked bravely, and presently a
deep gruff voice answered, “Who's there?”

“Tt is Cock Sparrow.”

“What do you want?” asked the North Wind.

“‘T want to fight you, sir, because you nearly broke my neck
this morning. You really should not be so rough.”

“Oh! oh! oh!” bellowed the North Wind. “Let me look at you.”
And he peeped through the big key-hole. ‘What! you have no
clothes on? I couldn't dream of speaking to a man, who has
no clothes on. Be off at once.”

The North Wind laughed so hard through the key-hole, that
little Cock Sparrow was lifted off his feet, and, before he knew
where he was, the North Wind had blown him back into his
own nest, where his wife and children hung round his neck and
nearly smothered the little man with kisses, because he had
been so brave and valiant.

Then he had to go to bed and stay there until his busy little
wife had made him a new suit of clothes.



VI.

THE FLOWER ELF.

Adapted from the German.

qINCE upon a time, there lived a little boy, so wild
and mischievous, that his friends all called him Pickles.
To be lively is not a bad thing, but, alas! sometimes



~ Pickles’ energy led him into naughty ways. When he
went into the garden, for instance, and walked between the beds,
he couldn’t see a flower without wishing to pluck it, in order to
first look at it, then smell it, and then throw it away; a violet
or any other flower he would take roughly from its stalk, with-
out any pity for it, and throw it away directly into the yard
or on the drive.

As you may imagine, the gardener, who took a great deal
of trouble with his plants, got angry every day with the naughty
child. He begged and prayed him to leave the beautiful flowers
alone; but in spite of all, the boy tried his patience so often,
that at last he complained to Pickles’ father, who was very
cross, and punished him for being cruel to the poor flowers.

Then the flowers lived a short time in peace, and bloomed
luxuriantly in the well-planted beds, until, one day, Pickles



64 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

slipped into the garden, and began to pluck them once again.

A magnificent tulip grew there, so tall that the slightest
breath of air caused her to wave hither and thither, and being
the only one out, she could not hide herself from the boy’s
eyes, so he ran up to her, and, snip snap, she was soon in
his cruel hands. He looked at her; he had never in his life
seen such a lovely red
colour, and the yellow
stripes that ornamented
the tulip, seemed to
glisten like gold. When
he had gazed a full
minute he began to wish
as usual to take off the
leaves one by one; but
as he took the first
between his thumb and
finger, he heard a small
voice crying. He looked
again into the tulip, but
could see nobody there ;
but still he felt so fright-
ened that he dared not
pick any more leaves



AH Mitehed

off; so he carried it to

his nursery and laid it in a box inside a cupboard that contained
his books and toys. He would not have thought again of the
flower, if he had not, in the evening, just when his sisters were
going to bed, heard a slight noise coming from the desk, as if
a fly was fluttering in it. He opened it and listened. The
sound evidently came out of the box in which he had put the



THE FLOWER ELF. 65

tulip. He opened it, and sure enough, a red-and-gold fly flew
about in it, whose wings were so glistening and transparent, that
the evening glow which came through the window, seemed to
play on them. Pickles tried
to catch the beautiful crea-
ture, but that was not
necessary, for it settled at
once on the tulip, whose
leaves were drooping, and
whose head hung lifelessly
on the stem. Pickles took
the flower up, and took
the fly in his hand to look
at it more closely. He was
surprised it sat so quietly,
and still more so, when
he saw it was no ordinary
fly after all. He took his
little microscope to look
again at the wonderful
insect.

Wonder of wonders!
Instead of a fly sata little
Turk under the magnifying
glass. He wore a red and
yellow turban, just the



colour of tulip leaves; his /
: ; AM Matha
wide tunic was green, and ;
the under-skirt dark brown, like the scales of a tulip bulb—in
short, it was a full-blown, perfect Turk, who had nothing that
resembled a fly but the wings and a long, thin body. Pickles

5



66 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

let him fall, he was so very, very much astonished, and then he
heard a little voice saying, “Naughty boy! naughty boy!”

He very quickly picked him up again, and saw the Turk
was looking at him with round brown eyes, and that he had
drawn a sword no bigger than the sting of a fly. He cried
louder, “Naughty boy; naughty boy!” Pickles could very
easily have killed the little man, but he was too curious, and
wished to see what would happen next, so he said, “Why am
I a naughty boy?”

“Because you have destroyed my home and my food.”

“How?” asked Pickles, still more surprised, ‘ You have lived
in the tulip?”

“Yes, of course; I am a tulip elf.”

«What are elves?” asked Pickles, curiously.

“Little people who live in the flowers, and who are like
them. I look, for instance, like a Turk, and my turban resem-
bles the tulip, and has the colours of her leaves. In a larkspur
lives a horny knight. The thistle shelters an old lady, whose
dress is covered with the points of broken needles, so that
everyone is pricked who attempts to pluck it. In the rose sits
a lovely queen, dressed in pink silk, and who wears a golden
crown on her head; and a tall maiden in a long white veil and
dress, with a gold belt, lives in the lily. The night-violet con-
tains a very silent elf, who likes to sit on the eye-lids of children
so that they soon fall asleep. In the corn-flower a miller grinds
a sweet smelling dust, that the elves sprinkle over the cheeks
of babies so that they look white and red, and in a flax-flower
a busy lady-elf spins a fine thread, compared to which a spider’s
thread looks a thick rope, and millions of these, strung together,
float over the fields late in the summer. In every forget-me-not
you can see, if you look long enough, a little baby elf, with



THE FLOWER ELF. 67

two lovely blue eyes. In the camomile, an elf witha long
beard is constantly brewing a magic drink in a diamond pan.
Oh! I cannot really name all the elves. I can only tell you
that each little flower over which your foot passes thoughtlessly
has its own elf.”

“Do you never leave your flowers?” asked Pickles.

“Oh yes!” answered the Turk, “every night when the moon
shines bright, we come from the mountains and hedges into
the woods and gardens, and dance merrily together. If a man
or a woman come near we quickly hide ourselves in a dew
drop, which then shines all the brighter. But we take lost
children into our special care; we drive away the night fogs
from them with the waving of our wings, and sing a little song
into the child’s ear, which shows them how to find the right
way.”

“Where are you in the winter?’’ asked the boy.

“In the winter we retire.into the bulbs of our flowers, and
only leave them again when the spring comes and the leaves
break out. Then we unfold our wings, which have been
rolled up in the root, and let them lie for a time in the sun,
where they shine like a rainbow. Men think we are midges
or flies.”

“What do you eat and drink?” enquired Pickles.

“The bloom and sap of the flower, of course. Sometimes
we sip a little dewdrop when it rests on our leaves, but it is
too strong for us to take often. Oh! you naughty boy! you
have taken away all my food. I shall die of hunger. Alas! alas |!’’

“No, no, not so, my dear Elf,” said Pickles, whose heart
was quite softened at the sight of the Elfs tears. “I have
some sugar plums. I am not allowed to eat them, but I am
sure you would like them. I will give you the biggest, so



68 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

please don’t cry any more. See, I will make a hole in this
beautiful sugar strawberry, and then you can drink, and if
you would like it, I will bring you a dewdrop every morning.’
He laid. the strawberry in a corner of the box, but he saw
through the microscope that the little man shook his head sadly,
and lay down on the half-faded tulip and shut his eyes. When
Pickles saw that he did not wish to speak again, he shut the
box and took out the key, so that some air might get in through
the key-hole.

“Tf he had only taken some of the strawberry first,” he thought,
“he would have been much better, and he would soon get accus-

’

tomed to new food. I won’t let him want for anything. A toy
that can talk is much too lovely.”

The following morning; he took more sweets and a dewdrop
on a tulip-leaf to his cupboard, hoping that his little visitor
would have finished his strawberry. He was surprised to find it,
as he had left it, in the corner. He took his miscroscope. Alas!
the Elf lay sorrowfully on the now faded tulip. “Oh!” said
the boy, “dear, dear Elf, you haven’t touched the food I
left you.”

“T found a little sap in the stalk of my flower, and some
dust on her calyx, so I am satisfied to-day. Now, it is all finished,
and I know I shall die of hunger, unkind boy!”

Pickles begged so hard that the Elf would try to eat some
of the sweets; but he only sat on the dead flower, and hid his
face in his hands. The boy slipped away, feeling very unhappy,
and so sorry he had taken the tulip, and did not dare to go
near his prisoner again until the evening. When he opened the
box, he saw at once that part of the strawberry had been taken.
“Flave you really eaten something I brought you?” he cried.

‘Hunger hurts badly,” answered the Elf crossly, as he saw



THE FLOWER ELF. 69

Pickles taking away his dear tulip, and putting some sugar in
its place.

After this Pickles brought the little Turk a fresh bon-bon every
day, and saw with delight that he objected no more to his sweet
food; what also pleased him was, that he began to see him quite
clearly without the aid of the magnifying glass. He began after
a time to bring him a crumb of bread and a drop of milk; and
then his guest got so accustomed to a change, that Pickles fed
him from his own plate. He enjoyed the fun so much, that he
did not at first notice that this food produced the same effect
on the little man that it did on boys and girls, and that he was
really growing: until one day he found he was as tall as his
little finger. He grew more and more, and at last was too big
to remain in the box. So Pickles made a sofa for him out of
his silk handkerchief, and placed it in a corner of the cupboard
shelf, so that the Turk could sit or lie down as he chose.

Occasionally, Pickles would take the Elf out of the cupboard
and let him walk up and down the table, and watch him draw
his sword and swing it over his head, which looked very funny.

His step could soon be heard as he marched; but his wings
which had been so bright, looked broken, and he made no effort
to use them. Pickles was more delighted with him than ever, so
that he was very sad indeed when his visitor began to look ill. He
grew thinner and thinner, and one day Pickles found him lying
on his couch very weak and motionless, his face and hands were
covered with wrinkles, and his clothes were torn in many places.

“Poor, poor Elf,”’ said Pickles, “what is the matter with you?”’

“T must obey the laws of nature, I suppose,’’ answered the
Turk. “Did you not notice that the gardener took the tulip
bulbs out of the ground a long time ago? Since then I have
wasted away, for my life depends on the root. Now she will



70 AUNT MAYS ANNUAL.

soon fade, and I must die with her. Unkind boy, had you not
enough joys and pleasures without hurting a beautiful flower?
Alas, I die!”

“No,” cried Pickles, ‘you shall not die. See, now is the time
the gardener puts the tulip-roots again into the garden, and
the root of your flower will grow up again, as fresh as ever.
I will take you to it, and you shall live again, so don’t be sad.”

“Foolish boy,’ answered the’ little man, “when an Elf is
taken from the root, they both wither and die. Leave me, I
don’t want to speak to you any more.”

He turned on his side, and shut his eyes.

Pickles shut the cupboard door, -and said softly to himself,
“How many elves I must have killed! Oh, if I had known all
this before!”

Although the boy saw that he could do no more for the
poor Turk, he continued to visit him daily, and always found
him lying on the couch looking like a dead old man. The
sight troubled him, but still he could not make up his mind
to bury him.

He therefore covered him with a white handkerchief and left
him for some time.

Christmas drew near, and one day the gardener brought a
flower-pot into the nursery.

“T can’t understand this pot,” he said. “All the other tulips
have grown up well, with the exception of this one. So I
think it must be dead, and I did want to bring your mother
all the six in full bloom on Christmas Day. I will put it by
the fireplace, perhaps the heat will bring it to life.”

A few days after this, Pickles was standing by his cupboard,
and suddenly remembered his little Turk. He lifted the hand-
kerchief. Oh! wonder! he lay perfectly still, but his eyes were



THE FLOWER ELF. 41

wide open, and they looked enquiringly at the boy, who uttered
a cry of joy, but instantly shut the door, as the gardener came
into the room the same moment to look at his flower.

“Really,” he said, “I can see the tips of a leaf. The pot
had better remain here until the flower comes.”

Pickles couldn’t sleep at all that night, he thought all the
time of the Elf, and as soon as daylight appeared he jumped
up, and found him sitting up on the couch.

“My own root must be somewhere near me,” he murmured,
“or I should not have been roused from my sleep.”

“Tt is here,” cried Pickles. ‘“As soon as you are stronger
I will take you to it.”

The Elf looked lovingly at the boy’s happy face. ‘TI shall
soon be all right again,” he said.

So it came to pass, that as the tulip grew higher and higher,
he grew stronger, and his wings began to flutter, but he was
not as beautiful as he had been formerly; the colours he wore
were not so bright, and the tulip-bud did not open as it ought
to have done.

“Perhaps it will not blossom after all,’ said the gardener.
“Tt is a pity.”

When Pickles again visited the cupboard, the convalescent
Elf said to him,

“TJ have heard the gardener’s complaint. Alas! the bud will
not open until I am free. If you would be kind to me, do
carry me to it. It is something higher than Fate that has
brought my own flower to me. You have now a chance of
doing me a good turn, Won’t you do it, dear boy?”

“But if I take you, I shall never see you any more,”
answered Pickles; and he began to cry. “I love you so
much.”



72 AUNT MAIS ANNUAL.

“JT will look out of my flower at you, and the memory of
the kindness you have done me will always make you feel
happy. Oh! do let me go to my house.”

Pickles loved the Elf very dearly, but he had begun to feel
pity for him, so he took up the little Flower Elf tenderly, and
placed him by the side of the tulip-bud. The Turk spread
out his wings, and flew on to the point of the bud. This
movement stirred the leaves, so that they opened, and the
flower sprung out,

The astonished eyes of the boy saw the little spirit grow
smaller and smaller, until he disappeared in the heart of the
flower, and out of its depths came the words, “Good boy,
good boy.”

The tulip bloomed more beautiful than before, and when
the gardener carried the six pots into the room on Christmas
Day, she was the finest of all.

Pickles never pulled a flower thoughtlessly after this, and
became a great favourite of the gardener, who always gave
him his biggest strawberries and gooseberries and _-all other fruits.



VIL.

JACK AND THE DWARFS.
By

BESSIE GREEN.



—[ACK lived with his father and mother in a little cottage
| in a wood. They were all very happy, though they
| did not often see anyone except Master Timothy, a



‘servant of old Sir Lockup, who came every month for
the rent of their cottage. In the morning Jack and his father went
away, axe on shoulder, and worked all day, cutting down trees and
making bundles of sticks to be sold in the town; and when they
came home they found supper ready, and the dear mother who
had been busy all day, waiting for them with a bright smile of
welcome. In the long winter evenings they sat round the fire —
the mother would spin busily, while the father told wonderful
tales of the fairies that lived in the forest, and Jack carved
pretty things out of the hard pine-wood and listened to his
father’s stories. They lived for many years very happily in this
way, till one winter, when the ground was covered with snow
and all the streams were frozen, the woodcutter slipped as he
was carrying a heavy bundle of wood, and hurt himself, so that



14 AUNT MAI'S ANNUAL

he was obliged to stay by the fire instead of going out to work
as usual. Jack and his mother were very sorry about this of
course, and as the days went on and the woodcutter did not
get any better, they became very anxious, It was drawing
near the time when Master Timothy came for the month’s money,
and they knew quite well that if they were not able to pay
their rent at once, Sir Lockup, who was an unkind old man,
would turn them out of their house and not care at all what
became of them. As the woodcutter had not worked for many
days, and Jack, who was only a little boy, could not do his
father’s work and his own as well, they had not nearly enough
money, so they were all three very unhappy.

One afternoon Jack went out to gather some sticks for the
fire. He wandered along without looking where he was going,
and at last feeling very miserable and tired he sat down under
a tree and began to cry. But it was too cold to sit still long,
and presently he remembered that it was getting late and he
had not yet found any sticks. He began to search among the
trees, and found to his great surprise a heap of sticks lying
close by him, all ready cut and neatly arranged. He wondered
very much how they had got there, and thought at first some
one must have left them and would come back for them; then
he remembered that no one lived in that part of the wood.
Why should he not take them home after all?

It was certainly very curious to find them so neatly cut and
arranged, and they were very heavy indeed, much heavier than
ordinary sticks. Jack had not gone far before he heard some
one say in a very faint, weak voice:

“Please put me down.” ;

Jack thought he must have fancied this, as he was quite alone
and sticks could not talk, but he had not gone much further



JACK AND THE DWARES. 18

before a sharp prick in his finger and a severe pinch on his
arm, made him drop his bundle, and look down to see if he
had carried off anything in the middle of it.

Then he saw to his great surprise, that on each bough was
sitting a tiny man, about three inches high, clad in brown just
the colour of the wood, and with a little hat covered with grey
lichen like that which clung to the pine branches. Jack was
too surprised at first to do anything but stare, and one of the
tiny men said:

“Do not take these sticks home, little boy. You will be very
unkind if you do.”

“Why shall I be unkind?” asked Jack, “I have found the
sticks. They belong to me.”

“They belong to us,” answered all the little men together,
and the one who had spoken first said:

“We are the servants of the King of the Dwarfs, who lives
in the mountain on the other side of the forest. Wehad come
out to gather wood, and hoped to meet nobody, for if anyone
takes the sticks we gather, we are obliged to serve that person
for seven years, and till that time is over we cannot go
back to our dear home in the mountain or see our dear people.
Oh! little boy, you will not be so unkind as to force us to be
your servants and leave all we love for seven years.”

Poor Jack had been thinking how nice it would be to have
so many servants, who would perhaps help them to earn some
money to pay the rent. The dwarf looked at him with piteous
eyes, and he remembered how his father used to say: ‘Never
do evil that good may come”. It would certainly be doing
evil to force the poor little dwarfs to be his servants, but he
did so want their help. At last he said:

“T won't take the sticks.”



76 AUNT MAIT’S ANNUAL.

“Oh! thank you, thank you,” called out the little men, and
the one who had spoken first, said:

“You must not think because we are so small we are not
grateful. You have done something for us, cannot we do some-
thing for you?”

“T don’t know,” said Jack, ‘‘but we are in great trouble.”

“Tell us about it, and we will help you,” cried all the little
men. So Jack told his sad story. When he had finished, one
of the dwarfs said:

“Here is something that will help you,” and he took off his
cap and put it into Jack’s hand. Jack wondered what good the
grey cap could possibly be, but the little man said: “If you
are in any difficulty, if Master Timothy takes you up to the
great house and Sir Lockup says you must go to prison, throw
the cap straight into his face, and say —

“Come and help me, come this way,
Master of the cap — obey,
Come and help without delay.”

then you will see what will happen.”

The little men shouldered their sticks, and trotted down the
path so fast that Jack hadn’t even time to say ‘Thank you.”

He was very much astonished, but not so much as some
little boys would have been, who had never heard the wonderful
fairy tales the woodcutter told in the long winter evenings.
He put the little cap in his pocket and set about collecting
some more sticks, eager to tell his mother about the. strange
friends he had made in the wood.

When he entered the kitchen his mother was crying, his father
looked angry, and Master Timothy stood in the middle of the
room talking very loud and fast, with his ugly face redder than



JACK AND THE DWARES. 17

usual. Two men stood behind him, and seemed to be waiting
for his orders. Jack ran up to his mother.

“Ohl Mother, what is the matter?’’ he asked.

“We can’t pay the rent, dear,’ she replied, “and Master
Timothy will not wait a day. He says he will take us all up
to the great house, and that Sir Lockup will put us in prison,”
and the poor woman
cried again.

“Ves, I’ve said it,
and I mean to do
it,’’ called out Master
Timothy in his harsh
voice. ‘Come along,
you good-for-nothing
fellow, you,” and he
dragged the woodcutter
to the door. Nothing
could be done, the
woodcutter’s foot still



hurt him so much that

AH Mitchell,

he found it very hard
to walk, but he was pushed and pulled along by Master Timothy
and the other men, and the poor mother followed with Jack,
crying bitterly. So after a long time they came to the great
house, and were brought into the room where Sir Lockup had
just finished his breakfast.

Sir Lockup was a very ugly man in a yellow dressing-gown.
He had ever so much money hidden away in chests and boxes,
but he spent scarcely anything and lived mostly on mouldy
crusts and potato-peelings. He had a large black cat, so thin
that you could see its bones sticking up underneath its skin,



78 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

but to whom he gave every day some of his potato-peelings,
a thing which he never did for any one else. The cat was
sitting on the table when the woodcutter was pushed into the
room, and it stared at Jack with its big, green eyes.

“Now then,” snarled Sir Lockup, “what do you want here?”

“He can’t pay his rent,” growled Master Timothy, ‘So I’ve
turned him out.”

‘“‘Miaou,” squalled the cat.

“Oh, Sir! if you only knew,” cried the poor mother, ‘it is

’

because —”

“Be quiet!” said the old man; “you must go to prison, all
three. Those who can’t pay their rent go to prison, I make
it a rule.”

“But if you will let me explain, Sir, how it was,” began the
woodcutter.

“Be quiet!” said Sir Lockup. “Here, Timothy, is the key
of the big dungeon. The sooner they are in prison the better.”

Jack had been listening all this time very hard, and when
Sir Lockup had finished, he ran up to him, threw the cap in
his face and called out—

“Come and help me, come this way,
Master of the cap —obey.
Come and help without delay.”

Sir Lockup started up in a great rage, and ran towards Jack,
who got behind a big chair. Instead of following him, the old
man ran straight to the door. He looked so funny that Jack
could not help laughing, for all the time he was trying his
hardest to get back to his arm-chair.

“Timothy,” he panted, “lock the door! don’t let me get

a

through



JACK AND THE DWARFS. 19

Timothy ran towards the door, but instead of locking it,
opened it wide, and Sir Lockup ran through, trying all the time
to stop, and calling out,

“Stop me, sombody, stop me quick!” Jack and his father
and mother felt themselves gently pushed by invisible hands,
and they followed out of the house into the wood. On the
way Jack told his parents all about his meeting with the dwarfs,
and though they were very much surprised they were not afraid,
for, said the woodcutter,

“My grandfather had dealings with the dwarfs, and they were
always kind and honest.”

They went on till they reached an open place in the wood,
where a great many broken pine-boughs were lying on the
ground.

Then they all stopped, and suddenly from among the sticks,
jumped out hosts of little brown men, who danced round Sir
Lockup and Master Timothy, crying,

‘Ho, ho, ho,! Ha, ha, ha!”

One of them came up to the woodcutter and said:

“Don’t be afraid. You must come with us now, but no harm
will happen to you.” Then very quickly they made a sort of
sledge of pine branches, and told the woodcutter and his wife
and little boy to get into it. They tied ropes to old Sir Lockup
and Master Timothy, in spite of their struggles and cries, and
made them drag the sledge along the rough snowy paths of
the wood, seating themselves upon the branches, and laughing
and clapping their hands as the sledge went swiftly along, in
spite of the anger of the two unwilling horses. After a long
time they reached the mountain and entered a dark narrow
passage, leading down and down, deep into the earth. The
walls of the passage shone and sparkled dimly in the darkness,



80 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

as if there were rubies and emeralds upon them, and at every
corner queer, grinning faces peeped out, little men hooked
themselves on to the sledge, poked Master Timothy, or slyly
pulled the tails of Sir Lockup’s yellow dressing-gown. Some-
times they passed a hollow place, light and warm, where they
heard the sound of hammers and rude songs as the little men
worked busily, making gold and silver collars and bracelets,
and all manner of wonderful things more fine and delicate than
any made by human workmen.



At last the travellers reached a great hall, dimly lighted by
the glimmer of the diamonds and emeralds in the walls, and
with a throne all of gold on a raised platform at one end,

On the throne sat a little brown dwarf, whose coat and shoes
sparkled with jewels and who wore on his head a splendid
shining crown. He was the King of the Dwarfs. The wood-
cutter and Jack made their best bow, and the mother curtsied,



JACK AND THE DWARFS. 81

as she had been taught at the village school. Sir Lockup and
Timothy stood near, very angry but powerless to move. The
king looked hard at the two old men.

“T have heard of the evil doings of these mortals,” said he,
“Do you bring them here for me to judge them?”

“We do, oh King,” replied a Dwarf. “If your Majesty will
graciously listen to the tale of this good woodcutter, your
Majesty will judge it well that we brought them.”

The woodcutter stepped forward and told his story quite
simply. When he had finished, the king, pointing to Master
Timothy, said:

“Has this man ever done any good to anyone?”

Nobody answered,

“Take him away to the mines,’’ said the king; and after
Mastér Timothy had been led away down a dark passage, the
king said:

“Has this man ever done any good to anyone?” and he
pointed to Sir Lockup.

“Yes, your Majesty,” called out a cracked voice from the
other end of the hall, and the big black cat, thinner than ever,
and with eyes shining like live coals, came leaping to her
Master’s side.

“What has he done for you?” asked the king.

“He gave me some of his own potato-peelings every morning,”
replied the cat.

“He did not give you very many,” said the king, looking
at the poor, lean cat; ‘“‘but it is well. You will remember this
act of kindness,” he went on, turning to the dwarfs who stood
near, ‘when you give him his work.”

“Yes, your Majesty,’ replied the dwarf, as he led Sir Lockup
away.

6



82 AUNT MATS ANNUAL. |

“What are they going to do with them?” whispered Jack in
a frightened voice to his mother.

The king overheard him and answered:

“They have been very unkind on earth, so now they will
have to work hard for us down here.”

“Will they ever be allowed to come back again?”

“That depends on how they do their work. But in any case
Sir Lockup will be allowed to go first, because he was kind to
his cat, and Master Timothy has been kind to no one. And now,”
said the King, “would you rather go back to your cottage
in the wood, or would you like to go into another country on
the other side of the mountain, where all the people are good,
and where you could easily find work. Even though Sir Lockup
has gone away, it is not certain that you will find a good man
for your master, and in this other country every one is kind.”

The woodcutter talked a little while to his wife and Jack, and
then said:

“OQ King, we thank you all very much for your kindness
and help, and we would go into this new country, if you will
show us the way.”

“We always repay kindness with kindness,” said the king.
“Tt was your little boy who was first kind to us. Farewell,
and all prosperity in the new country.”

Then they were led away by the dwarfs and went on for
many hours in the pine-wood sledge. Jack fell asleep against
his mother’s shoulders, and woke just as they came out of the
mountain into the new country. What a lovely sight met their
eyes! Here it was spring. All the fields were green with the
young fresh grass, and the fruit trees hung down their branches
heavy with white blossoms. Little children wandered in the
meadows, gathering great bunches of daisies, cowslips, and



JACK AND THE DWARFS. 83

buttercups. The sleek brown cows lifted up their heads from
among the flowers, and moved away slowly, tinkling their bells,
as the children passed. A blackbird sang on the hawthorn



An He cit

hedge, and his wife on her nest looked out at the travellers
with friendly black eyes. A pretty stream ran down the middle
of the valley, and on the banks clustered many cottages, with
thatched roofs and bright little gardens in front.



84 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

An old white-headed man came slowly along the path, and
held out his hand to the travellers, saying:

“Welcome!”

The dwarfs sprang into their sledge.

“Good-bye! Good luck!” they shouted, waving their lichen
caps, and then they disappeared in the dark mountain, and Jack
and his father and mother turned to begin their life in the
beautiful new country.



VIII.

THE STORY OF FANCY.
By
NORLEY CHESTER.

Author of “ Olga’s Dream.”

=| HERE was once a little girl called Fancy. She was
a child of—but no, I don’t think I will tell you who
| her mother was at present. Perhaps you may find it
out for yourselves before you come to the end of the
story. She was really a fairy child, but she did not know that
herself, for she had been sent to live with some mortals and



no one told her of her fairy origin. Fancy was a pretty little
thing, with long golden hair which streamed behind her like a
wave of the sea touched by the rising sun, and dark blue
eyes which shone with a light like that of the evening star, and
her laugh was like the silvery peel which blue-bells make in
Fairyland when the fairies ring them, or like the sound of the
mountain rivulet when the snow first melts, and it tumbles and
hurries over its stony bed in its haste to reach the valley below.
The mortals, however, did not care much for these things.



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AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL



AUNT MAIS ANNUAL

EDITED

BY

MRS. FRANCIS F. STEINTHAL

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS
BY

MISS ALICE MITCHELL

WESTMINSTER
ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE
AND CO. 1894.
@Ordirated
to my numerous
Nueces and Nephews
who are to be found

all over the
World.





PREFACE.

HIS first annual goes forth into the children’s world,

in the full hope that it will there meet with a warm



welcome. Most of the contents have already appeared
in the Parents’ Review, and it is an appeal from the children
that has induced me to bring out a special edition. Many
of them have asked if they can have the budget in a separate
form, so that it could go on their own book-shelf, and could
be held in their own hands to read to themselves, the Parents’
Review not being suitable for such small readers.

I was fortunate to find an excellent Illustrator, who has drawn
a very artistic cover and pictures. If my nieces and nephews
approve of their annual I hope that they will tell other children

about it, so that they may all have a second magazine next year.

EMELINE PETRIE STEINTHAL.
Wharfmead,

Ltkley.



Keep a fairy or two for your children.

RUSKIN.

Come to me, O ye children!

And whisper in my ear

What the birds and the wind are singing
In your sunny atmosphere.

For what are all our contrivings,
And the wisdom of our books;
When compared with your caresses
And the gladness of your looks?

Ye are better than all the ballads
That ever were sung or said;
For ye are living poems,
And all the rest are dead.
LONGFELLOW.



I.
JIL.

Iv.

VIL
VII.
VIII.

IX.

XI.
XII.
XIII.

XIV.

CONTENTS.

IDA’S DREAM. By BEssiz GREEN .
A CHRISTMAS VISION. By Fanny Hanson.

THE TWO ROSES. By ERNnsT vON WILDENBRUCH.

Translated by the Editor.

THE BANISHED DWARFS. From the GERMAN

Translated by the Editor.

LITTLE COCK SPARROW. By Aunt Mat .

THE FLOWER ELF. German Fotk-LoRE. .. .. .
Adapted by the Editor.

JACK AND THE DWARFS. By Bessie GREEN.

THE STORY OF FANCY. By Nortey CHESTER .

THE VIOLIN PLAYER. By Aunt Mat.

CHILDREN’S GARDENS. By M. HoystEep

WHAT CAN WE MAKE? By Aunt Mar .

LITTLE COOKS

NURSERY MODELLING. By Aunr Mar.

WHAT SHALL WE PLAY? .

Page.

24
49
58
63
73
85

95

» 102

. 116

- I2r

. 130

. 140



IDA’S DREAM.
By

BESSIE GREEN.

@|DA was: very ill. She could not even sit up in bed;
| her head was hot and heavy, and ached dreadfully
if she tried to move it. All this was very disagreeable,
but the medicine the old doctor sent her was still
more so. Ida could see the bottle quite plainly from where she lay,
and at the sight of it two great tears came into her eyes and
rolled down on the pillow. It was a winter’s evening, and the



room was very dark, but a bright moonbeam came through the
window, and fell on the table at the foot of the bed where
the bottle stood. Outside it must be very cold; the branches
of the trees were thickly covered with snow, and they sparkled
and shone in the moonlight; the roofs of the houses were all
pure white. Ida could see all this, too, for the window curtains
were not drawn. It seemed to her that the medicine bottle
looked rather different from usual this evening. Perhaps it was
only because her eyes were filled with tears, and she could
not see very well; but no,—Ida looked again,—she had never
3 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

yet seen a bottle with feet and hands,—little red feet just the
colour of the paper cap on the cork,jand medicine bottles did
not usually possess a face, with two twinkling black eyes and
a very large mouth, which smiled at Ida in a friendly way from
under the red cap. The bottle began to nod its head at the
little girl, and waved its hand, then it began to walk across the
table on to the bed. It moved very stiffly and slowly, but at
last it reached the head of the bed, and seated itself on the
pillow, still nodding away at Ida, and smiling. Ida could say
nothing: she only stared in astonishment.

“J know you’re very much surprised,” said the bottle in a
squeaky voice: “you never thought I could walk and talk
did you?”

‘No,’ said Ida.

“But I’m not a real bottle, you see,” went on the queer creature :
“Tm not really a bottle at all,” and it heaved a deep sigh.

“What are you then?” said Ida.

“Tm a fairy,—a Moon Elf.”

“But why are you down here?” asked Ida.

“Tt’s a very long story,’ said the bottle: “too long to tell
you just at present. But I’ve watched you every day, and it
made me feel so unhappy when you had to take the medicine,
and when it made you cry. I’m so sorry you're ill, Ida.”

“Tt’s very kind of you to be sorry for me,” answered the
little girl. “I don’t like being ill at all: it isso dull lying here.”

“That’s just what I thought,” said the bottle, “and then an
idea came into my head. I have plenty of friends up there,”
and he pointed to the round face of the moon, ‘and if I may
take you for a journey through the air, 1 am sure you would
like it: it is so different from everything down here. We would
bring you back quite safely. Will you come?”
IDA’S DREAM. 3

“How can I?” asked Ida. “I can't even sit up.”

“Try,” said the bottle, stretching out a little hand to her.
Ida took hold of it, she sat up, then stood on her feet. Hand
in hand they walked across the bed to the table, and stepped
on to the patch of moonlight. Ida suddenly found herself no
bigger than her companion; and he, too, had changed. He was
now an elf, with red cap and shoes. His face, with bright eyes
and queer mouth, was just the same; but he was no longer
a bottle.

“Why,” cried Ida, ‘how different you look

“T have changed into my real shape for a few hours,’ said,
the Moon Elf. “But we must not stay: come along.” The

1?

room had vanished; they were standing on a long bright
bridge, which stretched away endlessly into the distance;
the Elf began to run, and Ida followed. The bridge at first
was very little higher than the sparkling roofs and snowy
trees, but by degrees they mounted higher and higher, till
the earth lay far beneath them, and the night surrounded them
on all sides. Suddenly the Elf stood still, and Ida looked about
her. They were alone in the midst of the wonderful sky—a
sky without stars or moon, blue-black, endlessly deep. Behind
them the shining bridge dwindled to a golden thread, and then
vanished. As Ida looked, she saw something white sailing
along towards them. It came nearer and nearer, and she saw
that it was a white fleecy cloud, which was being pushed
along by four elves, exactly like her friend, all with the
same queer faces and red caps, They had big brown wings
and sailed slowly through the air. ‘“ This,” said the Moon Elf,
turning to Ida, ‘is our cloud boat. We will get in, and then
if you like I will tell you how I came to be a medicine bottle.”
He jumped in, and turned to help her. She felt a little bit
4 AUNT MAIT’S ANNUAL.

afraid as she stepped off the bridge, but her foot fell upon
something very soft and downy, and soon she lay back in the
cloud boat, as warm and comfortable as if she had been in her
own bed. The Moon Elf seated himself opposite her. He
clapped his hands; the boat began to sail along; the brown
wings of the elves slowly rose and fell. Ida closed her eyes,
and listened to her companion’s story.




iy OE S al

Ie > ys Pees
ORS ee

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ESE

AM Mitchell

“We Moon Elves,” he began, “are the servants of the Moon.
We must obey her in everything. We often are sent down to
the earth on some errand of hers, for wherever the moonbeams
go, we can go too. But if we leave the moonlight and step
out into the shadow we are no longer Moon Elves, but turn
into the first thing our hand touches. So we are always very
careful while on the earth to keep within the bounds of our
kingdom. We see a great deal of what goes on down there,
but of course we always come in the night, and I always wanted
so much to see what things look like in the daytime. I know
what they look like now, since I became a bottle,” and he
IDA’S DREAM. 5

sighed deeply, and then went on, ‘‘we are very fond of mischief,
and play all manner of tricks, and my misfortune came from
this love of mischief. We whisper dreams into people’s ears; we tell
the old miser that thieves have broken into his cellar and stolen his
gold, till he wakes up, and taking a candle in his shaking hand, goes
round to see that all is safe; but we love children, and whisper
pleasant dreams to them. One of the places where we most
love to go, is a room in the old doctor’s house. It is the room
where he mixes his medicines, and the moonlight streams through
two windows right across the table on to the opposite wall,
where there is a long shelf covered with medicine bottles. We
delight in this room, we play such splendid games of hide-and-
seek all over the table, and on the long wooden shelf, The
doctor’s son very often mixes the medicines, and when he is
there, we play fine pranks. We hide away the powders and
medicines which he needs, and while he is looking for them,
we upset his glass, or push it along to the edge of the table,
and clap our hands with delight, when it falls to the ground
with a crash. When he makes pills, we play ball with them,
and send them rolling into the corners of the room. Oh! we
play all manner of tricks. One evening we had been in the
doctor’s room for quite an hour; we had played hide-and-seek,
had hidden away the medicines, and done everything we could
think of. I was. sitting in the moonlight on the table, quite
tired, when one of my friends came sliding down from above
me, and gave me a little push. I lost my balance and fell
into the shadow; my hands touched something cold, then I felt
myself grow stiff, and square, and hollow—I was a medicine
bottle! It was terrible—too terrible—when the doctor’s son seized
hold of me, poured some medicine into me, tied up my cork
in a red cap, stuck a great label upon me, and sent me off to
6 AUNT MAT’S ANNUAL.

your house. My friends were dreadfully sorry for me, and they
all went together to our Queen to beg her to help me, But
the Queen said I had been so mischievous and had played so
many tricks that I deserved a punishment. For ten years I must
remain on earth, and if at the end of that time I am still un-
broken, I can take my real form again. But,” said the poor elf,
sorrowfully, ‘‘ten years is a long time, and glass breaks so easily.”

“You shall stay with me,” cried Ida. “I will keep you all
the time quite safely, so that you can go back again afterwards.
But how is it you are an Elf now?” she asked.

“For one night in the year I take my own shape for a few
hours, and may visit my friends,” said the Elf. “From where
I stood on the table I could watch you, and I was so sorry for
you, and thought -you would perhaps like a ride through
the air.”

“Ohl how kind of you,” cried Ida, “to think of me, when
you have only such a little time. I wish I could help you to
go back to your friends sooner, but I will keep you very care-
fully till the ten years are at an end, so that you will be
unbroken, and then——”

Suddenly the four winged Elves stopped in their flight, they
let go of the cloud boat, and hung perfectly still in the air,
with their wings folded. Ida’s friend fell on his knees, and bent
his head to the ground. Ida saw that the dark night sky was
gradually flooded with soft clear light, which seemed to come
from the far distance. It grew more and more dazzling, till
Ida saw that a beautiful lady was slowly floating towards them
through the air. She was so bright that the child could hardly
look at her, and her face was hidden by asilver veil. She came
nearer to the cloud boat, and looked at the kneeling Elf.

‘What are you doing here?” asked she. “Your Majesty,”
IDA’S DREAM. 7

replied the Elf, “it is the one night in the year in which I
am free.”

“And why is this little earth child here?” said the lady,
pointing to Ida.

“T was very ill,” said Ida, “and was so tired of lying alone
in the dark. And he was a medicine bottle at first, and then
turned into an Elf, and took me for a ride in this beautiful
boat. Please do not be angry with him.”

The lady smiled.

“Do you think he has been punished enough?” asked she.

““Oh! I am sure of it,” cried Ida. “Please let him stay here,
. and not be punished any more.”

“Listen,” said the lady, turning to the moon Elf, “during
the few hours in which you were free, you helped this little
child, and since she asks me to shorten your punishment, I
will do so. You need not go back to the earth again.”

The face of the Moon Elf beamed with joy, but he did not
move.

“You may go,” said the lady.

“T must take Ida home, your Majesty,” murmured the EIf.

“T will take her home,” answered the Queen, ‘now go.”

The Elf jumped up; he waved his cap in the air, nodded a
farewell to Ida, and then sprang out of the cloud boat, and
turned somersault after somersault till he was lost to sight.
His four companions opened their broad wings, and_ sailed
away slowly after him. The lady took Ida in her arms, and
kissed her forehead. A great drowsiness came over the child,
she felt dimly that she was falling, falling very gently and
slowly, then she knew no more.

When she opened her eyes the morning sun was shining
brightly into the room; a pot of sweet pink hyacinths stood
8 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

on the table in place of the medicine bottle, and her mother
sat by the bedside, watching her.

“OQ! Mamma,” cried Ida, throwing her arms round her
mother’s neck, “I’ve been such a wonderful journey, I must
tell you all about it; and I am so much better, I shall soon
be quite well.”

“My own darling,” said her mother, and kissed her many
times.


IT.

A CHRISTMAS. VISION.
By

FANNY HANSON.

DRAMATIS PERSONA—

THE CHRISTMAS FAIRY.
SANTA CLAUS.

ELSIE.

PHILIP.

Dick: Elsie’s Canary.
ROYAL: Philip’s Dog.
THE NURSE,

(In the First Scene the parts of Dick and Royal may be taken

by a real bird and dog, or by toy ones. In the Second Scene

they must be represented by children dressed in a way that
will suggest the characters.)






AM Mikekell
A CHRISTMAS VISION. II

SCENE I.—THE NURSERY.

(A cage, containing the canary, hanging near the windows, toys
scattered about and broken. Enter the Xmas Fairy and
Santa Claus.)

Farry: Dear Santa Claus, our task is nearly done.
From house to house we’ve wandered; one by one
We've looked upon each home, ourselves unseen,
Observed the children’s words and acts and mien
Before you left your gifts. Each child we test
Ere we bestow what will for it, be best—
(Looks round) No children here—we’ll wait till they return.
SANTA CL.: But something of their nature we may learn,
While they are absent, if we look around—
These broken toys, discarded, on the ground—
Are surely signs of carelessness, neglect?
Farry: Alas, you’re right. We cannot but suspect
They do not value what they have. Ah, here
Is something worse than carelessness, I fear.
(Goes up to cage) The cage uncleaned, no food, no water! Oh,
Tis cruelty to treat a creature so!
Poor little bird—in vain you peck the wire.
SANTA CL.: I hear them coming now—we must retire.
(They go out of sight, as Elsie and Philip rush in, chasing a dog
with a tin pail tied to his tail. Dog escapes.)
Puit.: Oh dear, he’s gone—it is too badi I vow
We have no fun at all with Royal now.
ELSIE: It isn’t fun to him perhaps. But dear!
There’s nothing else to do—it's stupid here.
Pui: Oh, s¢zupza’s not the word--it’s deadly slow.
I do want something new. I'd like to know
What we shall get this Christmas?
12 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.





















ELSIE: Why, you see,
Last Christmas you had Royal. Goodness me,
How pleased you were with him—and all your toys.
And now you hate them all. That’s so like boys!
PHIL: You needn’t talk, for you are quite as bad.
Just look at all the pretty things you had—
All broken up. And there is Dicky there, °
Your last year’s pet, and now you never care
To see he gets his food or water.
ELSIE: Well,
I can’t remember everything, I tell
A CHRISTMAS VISION. 13

The servants, but they never notice me.

Pll get him some just now—at once—you'll see—

(Goes up to cage, glances out of window and stops).

Oh look! Some mummers, Phil, upon my word!
PHIL.: (Starting forward.) Not really, Elsie?
ELSIE: Don’t they look absurd?

(Both look out of window. Enter nurse.)

PuHIL.: Oh, can’t we gol
NURSE: To bed? Of course you can.
PuHIL.: No, in the street! Just see that funny man!
Nurse:.Dear child, what stuff you talk!

Go out to-night?
You'll go to bed!

ELSIE: It really isn’t right
To send us yet—it’s Christmas Eve!
NURSE: It’s late,

You usually go to bed at eight,

And now, it’s nearly nine o’clock. And then
Your Christmas Day will come the sooner when
You're fast asleep. And you know what it brings |

ELsiIE: I hope some really nice new sorts of things,
I’m tired of all the old ones—

PHIL. : I am, too.

NuRSE: Well, run along to bed—the pair of you.

(Ereunt nurse and children.—Fairy and Santa
Claus come forward.)

Farry: Alas, poor bird. Your mistress gone to bed,
All thoughts of you are driven from her head,
And selfish fancies fill it.

SANTA CLAUS: Something new
They’re asking for!
14 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

Farry: And they shall have it, too.
SANTA CLAUS: No! No new toys or gifts for them,
dear friend;
We see from these their joy will quickly end
And turn to carelessness and scorn. To such
I give no Christmas treasures. Far too much
They have already, Better take away
The pets they tease and torture every day.
Farry: No gifts you shall bestow of common kind;
And yet I would that we could leave behind
A better spirit. Let it be our parts
To touch and waken these poor children’s hearts.
It is but want of thought. They do not feel
The wrong they do; but if we could reveal
Their actions to themselves without disguise,
And let them see themselves with others’ eyes,
Could we not make them better, wiser?
SANTA CLAUS: True,
’Twould surely be the kindest deed to do!
A better gift than any I can give
From out my store, and lasting while they live.
But how accomplish it?
Farry: You doubt my power?
Come with me now. I'll summon to my bower
These children we would teach true wisdom’s laws,
With them their living pets to plead their cause,
Transformed to mortal shape; and when that’s done
One lesson more, a last but bitter one,
Shall follow and complete our task ere day.
They'll wake with kindlier hearts. Now come away!
(CURTAIN. ]
A CHRISTMAS VISION, . 18

SCENE II.—Tue Fartry’s Bower.

(Fairy seated on her throne. Santa Claus standing near. Royal
and Dick behind the Fatry’s throne.)

Farry (Waves wand): Come Elsie! Philip! come, obey my call!
Come from your slumbers to the Fairy’s hall.
(Enter Elsie and Philip in night dresses. They stare about.)
ELSIE: Where caz we be, and pray how have we come?
We can’t have walked barefooted, Phil, from home?
PHIL: I cannot think. Oh, who are these? (Pointing to Fairy
and Santa Claus.)
ELSIE (Going towards Santa Claus): I know; (Clapping her hands
with delight): It's Santa Claus!
PHIL: This zs a jolly go]
We'll ask for what we want just right away.
(Zo Santa Claus): 1 want—I want (Putting his hand to his
forehead and pausing.)
I don’t know what to say!
I want a heap of things, but yet—somehow
I can’t think what they are—at least not now.
Perhaps you'll let me look, sir, at your store,
Is it all here, or have you something more?
ELSIE (As Santa Claus remains silent, looking at them):
He doesn’t answer you—you’re not polite,
And so he'll give you nothing—serves you right!
(Zo S. C.): Dear Santa Claus, I know you'll not refuse
To let me look a little—just to choose
My Christmas gifts.
SANTA CL. (Sternly):
No, no, you are not here
For Christmas gifts or play—We shall, I fear,
16 AUNT MA?’S ANNUAL.

Much disappoint you both. We know you well,
Have visited your nursery —Could tell
Sad tales of how you treat your playthings—How
They’re tossed aside and broken up. Well now
Those who ill-treat the things they have—from me
Get nothing |
ELSIE: Nothing! What a shame to be
Treated like this. I’m sure we’ve always been
As good as other children I have seen.
We're just as careful with our toys—in fact
I think we're rather better.
FAIRY : So you act
Quite to your satisfaction I suppose?
PHIL. (SwZkzly): We're well enough.
Farry: You think that no one knows
The way you treat your faithful dog, poor Roy?
PuiL.: I guess I act like any other boy,
I only tease him now and then a bit;
It doesn’t hurt him.
FAIRY: Dear me, doesn’t it?
And you? (Zo Elsie).
ELsIE: f haven’t got a dog at all.
Farry: No, but your bird, poor thing may feebly call
All day for food and water—and in vain.
ELSIE: Oh dear, why I’ve forgotten him again |!
But then he doesn’t mind it as we should.
FAIRY: You're sure of that?
ELSIE : It’s surely understood
A bird is different from a child. Of course
He doesn’t like it, but it would be worse
If he were free; he gets some food you see,
A CHRISTMAS VISION. 17

And wild birds starve quite often—
FAIRY: But are free,
And therefore happy. Well, it’s very true,
That birds and dogs are not like Phil and you,
Not altogether, But that you may hear
Just what they think and feel, I’ve called them here,
To let you know their side.
PHIL. (Laughing): They cannot speak.
Why, Roy can only bark.
ELSIE : And dicky squeak.
Farry : Come forward, Roy and Dicky.
(The two come from behind the throne.)
PHIL. : Who are these?
Farry: This is poor Dick—this Royal, if you please.
ELSIE: Can this be Dick? The colour’s right, I own.
Puit.: And Royal’s altered—I should not have known
The dog again. And yet he’s got the thing
I fastened to his tail.
ELSIE : And Dicky’s wing
Has lost the feather that he dropped. Why, yes,
It must be so. I really cannot guess
How they have altered in this way, and yet
I feel they are themselves.
PHIL. : They don’t forget
Us either, I can see, they’re staring so.
I wish we hadn’t come.
ELSIE : Well, let us go.
Fairy: Oh, no, not yet. Come, Dicky, tell us true,
What does your little mistress do to you?
Dick.: She never gives me anything to eat,
She never makes my prison clean and neat,
18 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

She never gives me water. There I stay,
And long for her to notice me each day.
And now and then a kindly servant comes
And fills my water-glass and scatters crumbs,
Or else I should have died. Such cruel pain
I suffer, and I cry and cry in vain.
‘Tis hard to be deprived of liberty.
But harder still to pine away and die—
Ah, once my mistress loved me—long ago.
But now, I am forgotton—quite |
ELSIE : No! No!
Oh, Dicky, dear, I never meant—you see,
I never thought you cared and felt like me.
Dick: I’ve suffered hunger, and I’ve suffered thirst.
But, ah! to lose my mistress’ love was worst.
To feel forlorn, neglected—no caress
Is lavished on me now. I used to bless
The loving hand that fed me, and the voice
That spoke endearing words to me—rejoice
When Elsie’s step I heard—
ELSIE (luterrupting): Oh, Dicky, dear,
Don’t say another word, and never fear
I'll treat you so again. Poor little bird,
And so you cried and Elsie never heard!
(Begins to pet Dick).
Farry: Now, Royal, tell what tortures you endure.
Roy.: Alas, kind Fairy, I am very sure
Your heart will break to hear them. I’ve no peace,
Hunted and dragged about without release!
And such indignities—why, look at chat,
(Pointing to the pan fastened to his clothing)
A CHRISTMAS VISION. 19

I can’t think anyone would treat a cat
In such a manner.
Puit.: Nonsense Roy, dear me,
It doesn’t hurt you!
Roy.: , Doesn’t it? You'd see
If you had pans and kettles tied to you!
PuiL.: Well, well, perhaps — but still, it isn't true
I'm always teasing you. It’s only fun.
You know I never mean to hurt. No one
Could be a better master on the whole.
Roy.: I’d like to see a worse! My friends condole
With me and pity me. A year ago
When I first came to you, it was not so—
You fondled me and praised me — for my part
I loved you from the bottom of my heart—
What have I done to change you?
PHIL: Nothing!
Roy: Well,
Why you should treat me so I cannot tell.
PHIL.: It's just because I’ve nothing else to do,
And so, poor dog, I take to teasing you.
Yes, it is mean, I own it. Never mind,
If you'll forgive me, I'll be just as kind
As I know how to be.
Roy: Forgive you? Yes,
All is forgotten with one kind caress.
(Phil pets Roy.)
SANTA CLAUS:
Forgiving creatures! Will this really last,
And will the children not repeat the past?
Sometimes they may forget and once again
20 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

Poor Roy and Dicky suffer want and pain.

Once more that creatures feel they may forget.
Farry: Too true, I fear. We have not finished yet.

No, they must feel themselves in very fact

The pain that others suffered by their act,

And by experiencing the self-same case,

They’ll learn to put themselves in others’ place.

(Lo Hisze) Sleep! And in dreams a helpless bird

you'll pine.
(Yo Philip) Sleep! In your dreams a wretched
dog you'll whine.
(The children fall asleep. Fairy advances to front and
waves her wand.)





Fairy: Spell-bound they’re lying. Visions of the night
Hover around and haunt them till the light.
[CURTAIN. |

SCENE II].—TueE Nursery.

Christmas morning. Canary in cage. Enter Fairy and
Santa Claus.

SANTA CLAUS: Now, e’er I leave the world another year,
A CHRISTMAS VISION. 21

I fain would hope I'd left behind good cheer,

And happy loving hearts. Is it too late

To give these children something?

Farry: Stay —we'll wait

And listen to their words. I wish to know

If they have really laid to heart or no,

The lesson we would teach them. Here they are,

Let us go back and watch them from afar.

(Retire as Phil and Elsie enter from different doors.)
ELsIE: Oh, Philip, do you know, I’ve had such dreams?
Pui: And so have I!

ELSIE: You know it hardly seems

As tho’ I'd slept at all. I feel so queer,

Quite tired out—(Gotng up to cage) Oh, Dicky, are you here?

I dreamt I saw you and you talked—

PHIL: Oh, yes!
And said you starved him.

ELSIE: Why, how did you guess?

PHIL: I must have dreamt it, too.

ELSIE: Well, Roy was there,
And told how you behaved.

PHIL: Well, I declare
We must have dreamt the same. The Fairy Queen
Sat on a throne—

ELSIE: And Santa Claus—

PHIL: (Solemnly, looking hard at her): We've been
In the same place—it can’t be dreaming.

ELSIE : No,
It was so strange—they would not let us go
Till we had heard it all.

PHIL: Yes, that was it!
22 AUNT MAIS ANNDAL.

Exsiz: And then—I can’t remember—stop a bit,
Yes—then I was a bird it seemed.
PHIL: A bird!
ELSIE: Yes, in a cage, I know it sounds absurd.
But, oh, I was so hungry and so sad!
PuiL: J was a dog and that was just as bad;
I had a horrid time—they gave me blows,
And did all kinds of things. Oh, no one knows
All that I suffered,
ELSIE: Well, I never knew
Or heard such things. I wonder was it crue
Or only dreaming?
PHIL: There’s one thing at least,
Never again will I ill-treat a beast
The way I used, because, you see, I know
Just what it’s like. I think I’d better go
And find poor Royal, shall I?
ELSIE: Yes, poor thing,
And I'll take Dicky. He’ll begin to sing
When I have fed him, I dare say. Poor dear—
He hasn’t got a grain of seed—I fear.
(Laking down the cage) Oh, cheer up, Dicky, I’ll be good, I vow,
And never, never treat you badly now.
(Exeunt Phil. and Elsie—the latter carrying the cage. Fairy
and Santa Claus advance to the front.)
SANTA CL.: This zs success—we’ll hope that they will keep
Their resolutions bravely. Shall I seek
Some Christmas gifts for them within my pack
And leave them waiting here till they come back?
Farry: No, Santa Claus; the gift we leave behind
Is surely something of a better kind
A CHRISTMAS VISION. 23

Than anything you carry. This one night

Has taught these children something—to do right

To those dependent on them—to be good

And kind to all, for they have understood

That others feel as well as they. We leave

A better spirit, kinder hearts, which grieve

For all the past. And let us leave them so.
SANTA CL.: Agreed—we’ll only say farewell and go.
(Lhey retreat as the children enter and gaze at them in astonish-
ment. Fatry and Santa Claus wave their hands and go as the

curtain falls.)

FINIS.
Il.

THE TWO ROSES.
By

ERNST VON WILDENBRUCH.

a)NCE near a great city in which many rich and poor



| people lived, there dwelt a gardener, who possessed
ij a large beautiful rose-garden. Roses grew in it of
= every colour and every kind. The gardener understood
his- business well, and sold his roses to the people in the city.

Many came and bought—at least the rich people came, for
the gardener asked such high prices for his flowers that the
poor people could not afford to buy them.

There were two roses blooming in the garden, more beautiful
than any that had hitherto lived there. The two rose-bushes
stood in the same bed, so near to one another that when the
roses bent their heads they could almost touch.

It thus came about that the roses were mutually pleased ;
they called each other “thou,” and although not altogether alike
in features—one having delicate yellow leaves with a red centre,
the other being snow-white from its outer leaf to its heart—and
although they belonged to different families, they considered
THE TWO ROSES. 25

themselves sisters, and trusted one another with all their secrets.

When they did this such a sweet aroma came from their lips
that the garden around them was filled with delicious perfume,
and their tender cooings were so pretty to witness that the
little beetles, who run busily to and fro on the earth, would
stand still, lift themselves up, and say, “ See, the roses are again
telling each other something. I wonder what it can be?”

What the roses were considering was their future. They
were so young they had no past to speak about, but the future
looked to them like a beautiful dream.

They knew quite well that they were the most beautiful roses
in the garden; they saw that every day in the delighted looks of
the gardener; they heard it from the lips of many a customer,
and they felt it every day when the morning-wind swept round
the garden and drove away the night from their little heads, so
that they could see and nod to each other. The whole garden
offered homage to them.

So it came to pass, that, although the two roses were as good,
and as well meaning as roses ought to be, they grew rather
proud, and had great expectations regarding their future fate.
It could only be a king, or a prince, or at any rate avery rich
man, who would buy them and take them to hishome. About
that they agreed, and their greatest trouble was that one should
be taken to one place and the other to another. That was their
only sorrow; they loved each other tenderly, and when the
thought came over them the roses would each shed a single
large tear, which, when the daylight appeared, lay like a
glittering drop in their chalices, and that was always pretty to
see. Yes, it was so beautiful that the morning-wind, who passes
over many lands, and who is therefore an authority in floral
beauty, would halt in astonishment before them, make a bow,
26 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

and say, “To the truly beautiful everything lends grace, even
pain.” Then the two little sisters would nod to him, and say,

“Oh, you are a nice young man, Mr. Morning-wind. You are
so lively in the early morning:” at which the morning-wind
would feel very much flattered, and would tuck his coat-tails
under his arms, and fly far away.

So the days went on, and many visitors and customers came
into the garden; but no purchaser was found for the two roses;
it was as though every one felt unconsciously that they were to
be reserved for a brilliant future. But one beautiful summer’s
evening a magnificent open carriage drove up to the garden door,
and stopped there. The two roses could see down the garden,
through the iron gateway, and as soon as they saw thecarriage
their hearts began to beat-as though they felt that some change
was coming to them. And they laid their heads together, and
whispered their thoughts to one another. A coachman sat on
the box, and next to him a man-servant, and both had coats
and hats with broad gold bands; and the roses, being unused
to the world, thought, when they saw such splendour on the
box, that these must be the principal people. But a little lady-
bird, who had been in many big houses, and who had even once
sat on the hand of a real Princess, came up to them, and when
he heard what the roses were saying, said to them, “Not so!
Only the servants sit on the box. You must look atthe people
inside the carriage.” So the roses looked very hard, but they
did not care for the people in the carriage; the lady was not at
all young, and not at all pretty, and the other, a gentleman, had
a huge black beard.

While the roses were exchanging their opinions, the little
ladybird began again, saying, “Why, you two really don’t
understand anything of the world at all; don’t you know this
THE TWO ROSES. 27

man is the richest banker in the city, and the lady is his wife?
Why should you want rich people to be pretty ?—that is left for
poor people, who have nothing else.”

The roses were ashamed of their ignorance, and blushed, and
that made them look fairer than ever.

The gentleman and his wife alighted from the carriage, and
behind them came a little dog that had silvery white hair, and
was so round that he could only slowly waddle, all the time
making a melancholy face, and from time to time he gave a
little bark, which sounded as if he were saying, ‘Go away, get
away!” The gardener stood at the garden door, took his hat
off, and made a deep bow. The gentleman nodded slightly to
him, but the lady passed by him, looking into the air. When
the ladybird saw that, she called out to the roses, “Now you
can learn something; see, rich people must behave as this lady
does; then they understand how to be rich.’ The roses,
however, felt a little ashamed of their bad taste, for they had
not really liked this behaviour.

The procession swept down the garden walk straight to the
place where the two roses stood, and with every step the lady
took, her silk dress rustled, so that it seemed to say to all nature
around it, “Hush-sh-sh! I am from Paris, I am from Paris.”

The gardener followed with his hat in his hand, and pointed
them to right and left, now to this rose-tree, then to that, and
the lady stood from time to time and raised her eye-glass
to her eyes, and when the gardener had spoken so long that
he was red in the face, she slightly opened her lips and said,
“All that is nothing.” Then the poor gardener made a long
face, and the little dog barked, as if to say, “Serve you right,
serve you right,’ and the husband nodded to the gardener and
said, ““You must give my wife the very best.”
28 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

At last they came to the two roses, who were looking out
with great round eyes, and here, for the first time, the lady
stopped of her own accord. She raised her eye-glass and
looked at them.

When they saw the glasses turned on them, they timidly
bowed their heads, and a tremor of shame came over them, and
as they stood with bent heads, they were so lovely that even
the lady could not help being impressed. Then she said, in
order to show her approval, “Well, that possibly might suit
me.” When her husband heard this, he felt he must also say
something, so exclaimed, ‘Truly, two fine specimens. What
is the price?”

When the gardener named a sum, the lady cried “Hoo!”
and held her ears with both hands, and the husband said:
“Good gracious! that is very dear.’’ ‘“ Besides, 1am only speaking
of the yellow one,” continued the lady; “I can’t do with the
white one, but the yellow one will just suit my tea-roses.”’
“Yes,” said her husband, “I also thought it would add to your
collection of tea-roses;” then, turning to the gardener, he said,
“My wife has the finest collection of tea-roses in the town.”

A bargain was soon struck, and it was arranged that the
lady’s gardener should call for the yellow rose the next day;
and then the gentleman and lady, and the little white dog,
stepped into their magnificent carriage and drove away. When
the roses were quite alone, they felt very sad, for they knew
that now the hour had come when they must part, perhaps for
their whole lives, and they laid their cheeks together, and cried
into one another’s hearts.

The white rose whispered to her sister, “Oh! you happy
sister! Ohl! you happy sister! Why cannot I meet such a
glorious fate as you?” and deep, deep within her heart, there







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30 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

arose a little bitter drop of envy, because she was obliged to con-
fess that she had been considered less beautiful than her sister.

So they stood, locked in each other’s arms, not noticing that
other customers had entered the garden, and were looking at
them. They looked up on hearing two children’s voices crying,
“Ah! father, father, the white rose, it is too lovely,’ and saw
a man standing before them, holding a child in each hand, one
a boy, and the other a little girl, These were the children who
had called out, and all three looked at the white rose with
admiring eyes. She, however, was not at all pleased, for the
man looked very different from the rich gentleman; he wore a
threadbare coat and a round felt hat, and the children were
also shabbily dressed. She did not like being admired by these
poor people, after the rich ones had rejected her, so she turned
away her head, as much as to say, “Go your way, 1 am not for
such as you.’ The gardener seemed to think this too, for he
came back from the garden gate, and looked very much sur-
prised when he saw them standing before his loveliest roses.

The white rose could scarcely believe her ears when she
heard the poor man ask the gardener what she would cost.
He asked timidly, it is true, but he asked it, and that appeared
to the rose a great impertinence. She rejoiced inwardly when
she heard the high price named by the gardener, and when she
saw the sorrowful face of the poor man. But the two little
children ‘pressed closer to their father, and the little boy cried,
“Oh, dear, dear father, please buy the beautiful rose; and the
little girl said, ‘Only think, father, how pleased mother would
be when you brought the lovely rose home.”

Then, for the first time in her life, unkind and naughty
feelings came into the white rose’s heart, and she was angry
with the children, and would have liked to sting them with her
THE TWO ROSES. 31

thorns. The poor shoemaker, for that was the man’s occupation,
looked silently at his children, then wrote something in the sand
with his stick, as though making a calculation, and then, going
to the gardener, he said, as though excusing himself for his
temerity, ‘“‘“My wife has been so ill, but is now a little better,
and I wanted to give her a great pleasure, and because she
likes roses—especially white ones—so much, I thought——”’

“But I cannot take less,” interrupted the gardener, and the
white rose murmured, “That’s right, that’s right.”’ The children
looked anxiously at their father, and he drew out his purse and
counted and ‘counted until the white rose trembled in silent
agony from her roots to her head.

Suddenly she felt as though a hailstorm had burst over her
head, and thought she must faint, for she heard the shoemaker
say, “Well, it is a great deal of money, but, all the same, I'll
take the tree.’

She threw her arms round her sister’s neck, and cried and
shrunk back, but her anger and grief only made her look more
beautiful, and the children stood by and clapped their hands.
The gardener received the money, then took the tree out of
the ground, and the white rose felt with a shudder that the
poor shoemaker took her in his hands and carried her out of
the garden, never more to see her beautiful, happy—ah! so
much happier—sister.

The next day, according to orders, the yellow rose was
taken to the house of the rich people, and she felt as proud
and as happy as a young princess. She had every reason to
be delighted; the new home to which she had come was very
gorgeous. The house was in a suburb where only very rich
people lived, and only the richest of the rich lived in this
particular street. The streets were so stylish that when a
32 AUNT MAIS ANNUAL.

carriage drove through, the horses stepped lightly, so that
the peace of the inhabitants was not destroyed, and in the
houses were so many treasures that the air was filled with
gold-dust, and the sparrows when they flew through the street
always came out again with golden tails. Looking through
an artistically wrought-iron gate, you saw that before the house,
next to the street, was a little garden with yellow gravel. Behind
the house lay the real garden, which was very large and roomy.
A brick wall surrounded it, so that no one could look in.

This was the new home of the yellow rose, and in a moment,
as she entered it, she saw that she had come into very aristo-
cratic society. In the middle of the garden was a big round
lawn, and this was as well cut as the head of a man who goes
every day to the hairdresser; round the lawn were beds, and
in the beds were flowers of every variety, so that the air spar-
kled and glowed with their scent and colour.

In the middle of the lawn was a circular bed, and that was
the most distinguished place in the whole garden. There stood
a little wood of roses— yellow, yellowish, greenish yellow, and
reddish yellow roses; and this was the collection of tea-roses
of which the rich gentleman had spoken the previous evening.
Towards this place the gardener, who was carrying the yellow
rose, bent his steps.

Then it appeared for the first time that there was something
naughty in the heart of the yellow rose, for when she saw how
all the flowers in the garden bent their heads to her, and looked
at her attentively to see what the new-comer to the select
bed was like, she felt very vain, and looked at them proudly,
thinking to herself, “What are you all compared with me?”’

It is true that her pride fell a little, and she was even
embarrassed, when she arrived in the middle of the lawn and
THE TWO ROSES. 33

was planted there, for all the tea-roses looked upon the,new-
comer with curiosity. She felt as if the looks pierced her inmost
heart, and at the same time she heard a buzzing and hissing of
many anxiously-whispering voices, which almost deafened her.

It was quite natural that the whisperings and hissings should
be about her, and here and there, out ofthe multitude of voices,
a word would strike her ear.

“ Another one! did you think we had too much room?”

“Quite the reverse; it’s getting much too crowded.”

“T really should like to know what our worthy mistress is
thinking of.”

“We were evidently no longer pretty enough—hi! hi!”

“‘Have you seen the new-comer?”’

“Ves, yes; she is just passable.”

The yellow rose, who had kept her eyes on the ground,
now dropped a curtsey, and raised her glowing face. She
then saw, close by, a few old rose-matrons, who nodded to
her in a friendly and compassionate manner, just like an old
court lady who nods to a poor little débutante stepping shyly
for the first time on the slippery floor of the court. But she
saw at once that the rose-matrons were very beautiful, and so
were all the roses about her; and she felt that she was no
more the only one of her kind, but that she now stood with
many of her equals.

What gave the roses a very stately appearance were little
wooden tablets which each wore round her neck, and on these
were written the name of each rose, her descent, and the place
of her birth.

What wonderful tales they told. There were roses who had
come from China; others from Japan; again, others from the
East Indies; and one even from the Island of Bourbon. Yes,

3
34 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

the society she found herself in was truly very distinguished.

The gardener soon returned with the little tablet that was
to belong to the yellow rose, and while he was hanging it round
her neck the hissing and chattering ceased, while all the roses
stretched out their necks to see who the new-comer was and
where she came from. Scarcely had the gardener left them
when the babel broke out again, only louder and more spiteful
than before. It was quite true that they saw from the tablet
that she belonged to a good family, and had pure rose blood:
but that was selfunderstood, or she would not have been
admitted at all; but her birthplace—her birthplace! ‘Born in
this place,” was written on her tablet, and one can imagine how ~
agitated the roses from China and Japan, the East Indies, and the
Island of Bourbon were. It passed from one to the other like wild-
fire. “Only think of it, she comes from here, only from this place |’

One of the proud rose-matrons nodded to her compassion-
ately and said, “You poor child, you must have had a very
joyless youth; you cannot have had many friends!”

“Oh, yes!” answered the yellow rose, quickly; “I had a
friend, a white rose, with whom I grew up.”

The rose-matron pulled a face, and said in the most shocked
tone, “But, my dear child, a white rose?’ and it sounded
as though she would like to say, “Don’t speak so loud; you
make yourself ridiculous.”

A second rose-matron pretended not to have heard, and
said in a loud voice, “You were friendly with a white rose?
Really with a white rose?”

The poor yellow rose began to feel very small as she heard
the whisper spreading—“A white rose has been her friend ””—
for she had not known before how very dreadful that was. The
first rose-matron came to her again, and said, “My dear child,
THE TWO ROSES. 35

I really cannot believe it. A white rose is nothing for you.
She is much too common.”

The yellow rose was overcome with shame that she had
so little understood the ways of the world, and that she had
hitherto so under-rated herself. She was quite confused, and
said with a trembling voice, “Well, it was perhaps a little
too much to say we were friends.”

“Yes, I thought -so,” said the rose-matron; “the person
probably clung to you, and you were too good-natured to shake
her off.”

When the yellow rose saw all eyes turned on her, her
courage forsook her, and she said very softly: ‘Well, yes,
that was it.”

Scarcely had she said it when her heart felt very heavy, and
she hung her head, and heard nothing, and saw nothing that
went on around, but cried silently to herself.

In the meantime the white rose was carried by the poor
shoemaker towards the city, and the vehemence of her grief
was drowned in dumb, blunt despair.

Resistance was useless she knew full well, so she resigned
herself to her sad fate, and her beautiful head hung exhausted
and sad.

The road was very long, the shoemaker had no money for
driving, so he was forced to go on foot. The father went before,
and the two little children tripped hand in hand after him.

They went further into the city, where the streets grew hotter
and closer, and when they saw the rose hanging her head, the
little brother said to his sister, “Ah! look at the poor rose;
how tired she looks; she must be too hot.” And the sister
answered, “She must be thirsty, and as soon as we get home
we will give her something to drink.”
36 AUNT MAI'S ANNUAL.

The little children held their hands under the rose’s head,
so that the blood: should not flow into her face as when it hung
so low; and they changed with one another, so that now the
brother held her and then the sister, and the latter said con-
stantly, “Oh, you poor lovely dear rose; only wait till we
get home.”

The white rose submitted to this, as she now did to every-
thing; but she shut her eyes, and would not look at the
children, and wouldn’t thank them—she felt the greatest enmity
towards them, they were the cause of all her unhappiness.

At last, at last, just as it was growing dark, they came
to the poor shoemaker’s house. Then the white rose opened
her eyes and looked round. The street was very nice, and
the house they entered was very stately; but— but— when
they came into the hall, and the door had closed behind them,
the children opened a glass door to the left, and from this
door they descended many steps, and the poor rose suddenly
learned that she was henceforth to live in a cellar. And so it
was—the poor shoemaker was a porter in the stately mansion.

A cellar dwelling! And that was the fulfilment of her castle
in the air!

The heart of the white rose was once more filled with despair, and
she only had one thought and one wish-—that she might soon die.

The children ran quickly down the steps, and their voices
were heard crying, ‘Mother! mother! See what we have
brought you!”

On a poor sofa that stood in the room lay a pale weak
woman, and while the children sprang to her and encircled her
in their arms, the poor shoemaker stepped before her, and
raised the white rose in both hands without a word.

Two tears came into the large astonished eyes of his sick
THE TWO ROSES. 37

wife, and she folded her hands and looked first at the rose
and then at her husband, so that no one could tell if she was
looking with delight at the beautiful flower, or if she was
thanking God silently that she had such a good husband.

At last she said anxiously, “Oh! what a beauty! But the
magnificent rose is much too beautiful for us; do be careful,
children, that we take great care of it.”













The children did not require telling twice. They ran out,
and soon returned with a big flower-pot that was filled with
nice soft black earth, and in it they planted the white rose.
Then they placed the flower-pot on the table, and got a little
watering can, and watered the earth very well.

Then the white rose stood on the table, in the middle of the
38 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

dark room of the poor people, and when she hung her head
on her stalk she looked like the pale child of a king, who has
been captured and. taken into exile.

Soon the children ate their evening meal. Each had a piece
of bread with very little butter, that was all; but they seemed
quite contented, and sat on a cupboard near the table on
which the rose stood, letting their legs hang down, and ate
their bread and butter, looking and nodding ather. They then
went to bed; and soon the other watchers retired to rest, and
the light was extinguished, and silent night drew on. Every-
body slept—only the white rose could not sleep; her bitter, sad
thoughts kept her awake.

Suddenly it was light; and see,
that must be the moon looking
through the window. She sent a

‘ broad, silver, white streak into the
room on to her dear white rose,
with whom she had so often had
a chat; and the rose was pleased,
for she felt she was not quite
forgotten, and bathed herself in
the soft, white light. It may have
been the magical light of the
moon; she often induces wonderful
thoughts and dreams. The rose
imagined she dreamt a strange
dream. It seemed to her that two ee
angels came into the room, two dear little angels, who stepped
with their bare feet on the floor, with long fair hair, and their
white little bodies only covered each with a little shirt. They
drew two chairs to the table and stepped on them, and putting


THE TWO ROSES. 39

their faces close to the rose, kissed her gently, first on her
leaves, then on the sweet-scented chalice.

The rose shuddered and trembled, and drank the breath from
the young lips with intense pleasure, and yet could not account
for such a strange wonder.

Then the little angels sprang from the chairs, drew them on
one side, and laughingly vanished—where? Why, where the
children went when they were sent to bed. The two she had
taken for angels, and thought so pretty, could they be the two
children? The discovery destroyed all her pleasure in the
imagined dream; she wished only to feel angry with them. In
spite of that she could not lose the remembrance of how sweet
it was to be kissed by the little lips; and when the daylight
came, and the shoemaker’s family came into the room, the rose
looked at the children for the first time. She had hitherto kept
her eyes closed. Then she saw that they really were two pretty,
nice children, with fair curls and large eyes, and loving friendly
faces; and she could not doubt that these were the angels who
had crept out of bed to secretly kiss and pet her.

As soon as breakfast was over, the father said to his children,
“To-day is such a lovely day, we must put our rose in the
garden.”

The children took the flower-pot in which the rose stood, and
carried it up the stairs, out of the house door into the little
garden before the house, that was shut off from the street by an
iron gate, and placed her there in the midst of the warm
morning sunshine. Now the rose could look into the street,
and she saw the carriages and the passers-by, who went up and
down, and everything was so new and beautiful to her that,
in spite of herself, she began to feel quite comfortable.

Just behind her, on the ground-floor, was the shoemaker’s
40 AUNT MAIT’S ANNUAL.

window, which stood open, and behind that sat the shoemaker
on a high stool, making shoes and boots.

The rose looked up and saw into the room behind him, and
there the morning sun was playfully disporting himself, and the
room did not look so sad as on the previous night, but very nice
and clean.

The children came again out of the house with school maps
and slates to go to school, and just as they were going out of
the gate they nodded to the rose, and said “We'll see you
again,” and although the rose would not even acknowledge it to
herself, it was very pretty to see them. While thinking about
them, she heard a voice behind her say, ‘Good morning,
Madam Rose.”

When she turned her head she saw a canary ina cage, which
was hanging at the open window. He had two sharp black eyes,

?

and a little white beak, which went on to say—

“Good morning, Madam Rose. I had no opportunity yester-
day to speak to you. Will you allow me to introduce myself?
My name is Piping.”

The simple manner of the canary pleased the white rose, and
she gave him a friendly bow and entered into conversation, and
asked him how old he was, and how long he had been at the
shoemaker’s. Mr. Piping sighed, and said he was no longer
young, he was already a year and twelve days old, he had just
celebrated his birthday, but he had only been three months at
the shoemaker’s, and he hoped to spend the rest of his life with
them. When the rose further asked him why he liked the shoe-
maker so much, he rolled his eyes round and said—

“They are angelic people—especially the children,” and was
then so affected that he was obliged to take a little sip of water,
because he felt his tears were coming.
THE TWO ROSES. 4I

The sun rose higher, and the rose began to feel very warm;
but the children soon came back from school, and took the flower-
pot up and carried her into the room, where it was cooler. They
did this every day, always considering what could be done for
the pleasure and benefit of the rose.

So much care and thought was bestowed on her that the
rose one day felt a little bud was peeping forth. Just before
it burst out, and the eyes of the whole family were anxiously
turned on it, the bitter anger once more rose in her heart. She
did not wish to give them this pleasure, and would not give
the bud any nourishment, and, only imagine! the shoot was
blighted, the bud did not open, and the hopes of the poor
family were dashed to the ground.

They were very sad indeed, and at this moment the master
of the house came in—a very rich man—who saw how precious
the rose was, and said:

“That is only what I expected. How could you expect the
rose to flourish down here? I'll tell you what. Let me buy
it, and plant it in my garden.”

He then named a sum much higher than that which the
shoemaker had given.

But, all the same, he only answered:

“Yes, sir; what you say is quite true; but, see, we love
the rose so much, and when we look at it, we imagine we also
possess a garden, and, if you won't take it amiss, I would
much like to keep the flower for another two days, to see if
it won't get another bud. If it does not, then I will sell it
to you.”

The master left the room, but any one could see he was
much vexed.

The rose, who had heard everything, felt a ray of happiness
42 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL

in her soul; she now had a slight hope of deliverance from the
hated home. She only wished to find a beautiful fate in a rich
man’s garden. She was quite decided how she would act.

When night drew near, and everything was silent and asleep,
the children again crept lightly into the hushed room, with
naked feet, in their little shirts, just as they sprang out of bed,
like two little angels. But this time they did not laugh, and
when the moonbeam fell upon their faces, they looked very pale
and sad.

When they again fetched their two chairs, and climbed on
them, and kissed the rose, they cried, and their tears flowed
into her chalice.

‘Now we have nothing left,” they whispered. ‘We have no
rose, and no garden any more; we have nothing.” Then they
went back to their beds.

When left alone, the rose shut her eyes, and tried to sleep;
but she could not. Something burnt her heart. It was the
tears of the children, that had fallen on it. The next morning,
when it was quite early, and nobody was up, something knocked
at the window, and in came the morning-wind.

The rose had not seen him since she had left the garden, so .
she was delighted to see her visitor. The morning-wind went
up and down the room, blowing the dust from the furniture and
ornaments. Any one could see he was much excited.

“T’ve just come from your sister,” he said, “from the yellow
rose.”

The white rose was very curious to know how she was going
on, but the morning-wind, who was formerly so lively, had
become quite serious.

“Ah,” said he, “it’s a sad tale; she is not getting on very
well. The tea-roses, among whom she is so lost that I could
THE TWO ROSES. 43

scarcely find her, are very cross and ill-natured to her; but
soon all their glory will be at an end.”

“What do you mean?” asked the white rose.

“Well,” said the morning-wind, ‘do you know what whims are?”

‘““No,” answered the rose.

“Well,” continued the morning-wind, “they are little beetles,
so costly that only rich people can afford to possess them.”

“What do they want them for?” asked the rose.

“Qh, to play with, to while away the time,” he said. “They
let them fly about the room, and then catch one, and put
it on their heads.”

“How wonderful!” said the rose.

“Yes; but it is now the fashion,’

“The banker’s wife, in order to show that she is very rich,
possesses a crowd of these beetles. She plays with one,

’

said the morning-wind.

sometimes two, and even three, every day. She puts them
on her head, and lets them sit there, until they squeeze and
pinch her—for the beetles, you must know, have sharp little
nippers; and then she cries and screams until her husband
comes to her. He takes the beetles from her head, and throws
them out of the window; and so they pass the time away.
Now, you must also know that when people have these beetles
on their heads they always have many ideas, and imagine a
great deal. So the banker’s wife has suddenly found out that
she is tired of roses, and would prefer camellias. When the
autumn comes, the tea-roses will, therefore, be torn out of
the earth.”

‘“What will then happen to them?” asked the rose, anxiously.

“They will be thrown away,” answered the morning-wind,
“and our poor yellow rose, your sister, among them. Are
you surprised, now, that I am so sad? Yes, yes,” he continued,
44. AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

seeing the white rose was stunned by the news, “you have
done much better. You are tended and cared for; and here
are no black beetles to be afraid of.” And then he sighed,
‘and taking up his coat tails, flew out of the window.

The white rose was completely stupefied, and long after
the morning-wind had disappeared she thought she heard
his voice again, “You have done better for yourself.” And
suddenly her heart began to whisper and repent. Yes, the
rose felt ashamed of herself; and when she looked deeply
into her heart, the shame said to her, “You ungrateful
creature!’’ And when the shoemaker’s family came in, and
she saw the children’s sad faces, she saw again before her eyes
the dreadful words, “You are ungrateful!”

The rose felt a sudden stab in her innermost soul, as though
she had slept and had suddenly awakened; and when the
children put her in the garden, she drank up the pure cool
water they gave her, and ate of the soft black earth, so that
Mr. Piping called out, “Your good health, Madam Rose.”

The rose felt as though she were changed--her blood and
sap flowed here and there like a spring, and scarcely had two
days gone by, when a little bud appeared, and one eye peeped
out. And when the children—who had anxiously watched for
this—ran and called their parents to see the new wonder, the
rose laughed so much to herself that a second bud jumped out,
and, as though there were no end to her joy and delight, there
came a third. When the shoemaker stood on the threshold
one morning with his pale wife and two pretty children, they
stood spell-bound before the beautiful picture, for there on the
table stood the loved head ‘of their dear white rose, looking
with motherly pride on two young little snow-white roses who
had sprung out of the stem in the night.
THE TWO ROSES. 45

The roses bowed and waved, and from their lips came a
sweet scent that made a paradise of the dwelling of the poor
people, and if they could have understood what the roses were
saying, they would have heard the words, “Our love to you
for all yours to us; our thanks for all your goodness.”

The whole house rang with the happy cries of the two
children. Everybody living in it came down to see the beautiful
flowers, and when the rose-family was taken into the garden,
the passers-by remained standing in the street, and the white
rose felt that her beauty was enjoying a triumph.

Everybody was pleased, with the exception of the master
of the house, who was very angry, and the thought gnawed
and ate into his heart that the poor shoemaker would not
grant his request, and would not sell him his rose. Now, as
anger is a dangerous inmate, that, if not quickly got rid of,
gets the upper hand, he felt every day more angry and
vexed with the poor man; and when the autumn came the
poor shoemaker’s family sat one day with sad faces and
weeping eyes. The master had discharged the father, and
they must leave the house. A deep cutting pain ran through
the soul of the rose, for who was the cause of the unhappiness
of the poor people but herself?

Again night came, and with it a new dream. This time
it was not a pleasant one, but very terrible and sad. Instead
of the two children, a dreadful old man, all out of breath,
silently dragged himself into the chamber where the children
lay asleep. The rose had never seen anything so gruesome
as this figure; never heard anything so awful as the hoarse
whisper that came from his hideous, toothless mouth, and
when she saw him enter the bedchamber her blood ran cold.

A curious yellow light played round the figure, and by it
46 AUNT MAIT'S ANNUAL.

the rose could see how the dreadful man bent over the children,
stretching out his lean hand over their heads, and how the
sweet little faces grew pale, and they began to cry bitterly.
The rose felt so very sad, she lifted up her head to the sky, and
her lips murmured, “‘Save them, save my little innocent friends.”

From her trembling lips there came a scent that filled the
room. When the old man noticed it he came out and said to
her, “Do not smell so sweet; you have no right to remain here.
I am Hunger! Hunger! and I am now the master of this place.”’

But the rose lifted up her voice once more to’ heaven, and
prayed more intensely than before, saying: ‘‘Oh, let me repay
these poor people for all the love they have shown me. Let me
give to them what they cherish and love more than anything
else—their children |” ’

Her delicious scent became more intoxicating than before.
The looks with which the demon tried to transfix her became
more and more furious; but all of no avail, he could not
master the scent, he could not return into the bedchamber,
because it filled the space between him and the door like a
cloud. So that in the end he turned away quite dazed, and
stumbled out of the room.

A few days later the poor shoemaker, who had sought work
day after day, returned. His sad face was full of delight, for
he had found a situation. “In the richest suburb,” he said “is
a new house belonging to a banker, who is the richest man in
the town.”

The white rose listened, it sounded so familiar to her, she’
could not tell why, and her heart felt light when she knew
that the sacrifice of her scent had been accepted.

It was, indeed, the splendid house of a wealthy man which
the family came to live in.
THE TWO ROSES. 4]

“Only think,’ the father said one day as he entered the
room, ‘‘how rich our master is! His wife has suddenly torn up
all her beautiful rose-trees to plant camellias in their place;
and the gardener has given me this pretty rose, because it is
not healthy, and would not sell.”

It was, indeed, the yellow rose, grown pale and sickly, who
had come to die in the arms of her happier sister.

“Alas! the yellow rose is dead,” said the little sister, as
she took her brother by the hand the next morning; “how
sad our rose looks! she has been crying:” and so it was;
in her chalice lay a tear-
drop.

Then a strange thing
happened. Suddenly the
boy’s eyes grew larger and
brighter than they had
ever looked before, and
he stared at the white
rose, as though he saw it
now for the first time.
Without a word, he took
a slate and began to draw.
The little sister watched
him, but did not speak, '
and the two sat, and sat, : AH Ata



and forgot breakfast and

everything else, and only stood up when they had to go to school.
He put his slate into his school-bag that no one should see

what he had done, as though he had a big secret to keep.
Two days later the shoemaker sat down by his wife and said:

«Marie, Anton’s teacher has been speaking to me, and says
48 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

we must take great pains with him, for he has seen a rose the
boy has drawn, and thinks Anton may some day become a
great artist. What do you say?”

But the wife did not answer, only her eyes grew larger and
looked far away.

The shoemaker spoke low, that none should hear him, as it
was a secret. But the white rose heard, and shared the joy
of the parents.

Would you like to know what happened afterwards to little
Anton? Perhaps I will tell you another time.
IV.

THE BANISHED DWARFS.

GERMAN FOLK-LORE.

=qN a far distant country is a high mountain, in which
for many, many hundred years tiny dwarfs have lived,
so clever, that they could always make with their hands



all that they saw with their eyes. They made the most
beautiful jewelry, so fine that no human hand could copy it; and
the dwarfs kept the secret of the manufacture to themselves;
and when any man came near the mountain they would
all run to a big room in the very interior, where not even a
moonbeam could creep in. They had in this room millions
of little lamps, made by themselves. These dwarfs were under -
a king, whom they had always to obey, and when anyone did
something that was wrong, the king’s herald would summon
everybody, with three trumpet calls, to the great hall, where
the king gave the punishment. One day the trumpet sounded
louder than ever; the dwarfs who were working, left their work
at once, and those who had a clear conscience, hurried as fast
as they could into the hall, so as to get near the king; but
those who knew they had not been good, slipped quietly into
4

THE BANISHED DWARFS. 51

the back: of the hall, and hid themselves behind the others, ho-
ping the king would not see them.

The king sat on his throne of rock crystal, carved for him
by the dwarfs so cleverly that the. million lamps were reflected
from every point. He wore his crown, set with many precious
stones, on his. head.

When the dwarfs had bowed down so low before the king
that their noses touched the ground, and. all were as still as
twenty mice, the king began:

“My dear brothers and subjects, when you chose me to be
your king, we took counsel together as to the best laws we
could make to keep peace in our country, and we concluded
that peace and order were to be observed. Say, was not that so?”

“Ves, yes,” answered all the dwarfs.

“Then,” continued the king, “did we not decree that every-
one in our city must have a special duty to perform, and must
be responsible for it being rightly done? Say, am I not right?”

“Ves, yes,” shouted the dwarfs a second time.

“So that you may fear the results of wrong-doing,” the
king continued, “we decreed that every dwarf who did not
obey us, must go out into the world and serve human beings.
Speak—was that not so?”

“Yes, yes,” cried the dwarfs the third time.

“So far, so good. Now let the naughty dwarfs come for-
ward to learn their punishment. Hip, Hop, and Hup, step
forward!”

The three dwarfs came up with drooping heads,

“You, Hip,” said the king, “yesterday. forgot to get oil
from the oil-well, so that the lamps could not be lighted, and
the whole kingdom was in total darkness during the evening.
We therefore banish you, and order you to go into the eye
52 AUNT MAIS ANNUAL.

of a needle belonging to a poor old half blind woman, and
to sit there so that you can help her with her work, When
she is too tired to put the cotton through the eye, you must
seize it, and pull it through, so that the poor woman is saved
time and work. You must sit there till the needle breaks.”

Hip made a very sad face, but he could of course make no
remark. He bent one knee before the king, and left the hall
and mountain without once looking round.

“Hop,” said the king, “you have been equally careless.
You have not cleaned the steps and passages properly, and
have left dust and stones on them, so that we have stumbled,
and nearly fallen over them; therefore I command you to go
into the left shoe of a baby who is just learning to wall, to
live between the sole and the leather over it. You must
always be on the look out, and when the child lifts its right
foot, you must jump out and remove any stone over which it
could fall, before it puts its left foot down, and there you must
remain until the shoe is torn.”

After this speech Hop made
a deep bow, and left the hall.

“As for you, Hup,” said the
king, “you have been naughtier
than Hip and Hop. You have
run about on the mountain at
night time, and have’ exposed
our gold and silver and crystal
to the moonlight, so that man-
kind if they had seen them would
have come to search for our
treasures, which we hide from all human eyes. You shall
therefore be shut up in a long round dungeon that man has


THE BANISHED DWARFS. 53

just invented, and called a kaleidoscope. You must sit there
and make wonderful pictures for the children of men, and no
picture must resemble another, but you must always invent new
ones until the glass door of the prison is broken.”

Hup was very unhappy at the thought that perhaps for many
years he would be shut up in one room, but like the others,
he dare not speak, and sadly left the mountain.

After the three had thus departed, everything went on as
formerly ; for the dwarfs were careful to behave well after hearing
these sentences. But one year had passed, when the great trumpet
was again heard, and called the dwarfs to the great Hall. The
king sat again on his throne, and on the lowest step knelt Hip.

“Behold, brothers and subjects,’ said the king, “our brother
Hip has completed his sentence as we ordered, and has come
once more to us, and we have called you together to hear what
lesson he has learnt.

“Mighty king,’ answered Hip, ‘my experience has been a
simple one. I lived in the eye of a needle, with an old woman,
who sewed from morning to night. She wore very big spectacles,
and when she threaded her needle, she held it very close to
them; but in spite of this, the thread always bent over, or to
the left or right of the eye, and the poor old woman would sigh
deeply, for every moment was precious. After I came to live in
the eye, I used to stretch my hand out and catch the thread,
and pull it quickly through it. This, of course, greatly delighted
the old woman, who imagined her eyes were getting better and
younger. She sewed and sewed until one day the needle and
thread fell on to her knee, and her head sank on her chest. So
the neighbours found her, and a cry arose, ‘Alas! our good
neighbour is dead.’ One woman took up her work, saying, ‘I
will finish the hem for her at any rate.’”’ She put the needle in
84 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

with such force that it broke, and I sprang away, having got
my liberty.’

“Well done,” said the king, “we will forgive you, and receive
you once again, and hope you will always remember the lesson
you have learnt.”

Hip bowed and thanked the king, and then skipped off joy-
fully to his old friends, and wished with them that Hop and
Hup would soon return.

The wish was soon fulfilled in Hop’s case, for one month
later he stood in the big hall, and told the king the story of
his imprisonment.

“T ran into a nursery in a very big house. It was very early
in the morning, and in one bed lay a most beautiful child in
deep sleep. The nurse was even then busy preparing the clothes
for the day. On a chair stood a pair of dear little shoes. I
skipped in between the sole and leather of the left shoe, and
quietly waited until a lovely lady came into the room.”

“Does my little boy sleep still?” she asked.

“Her voice awoke the child, who stretched out his fat dimpled
arms, and they kissed one another so. tenderly that I nearly
cried in my prison. Then the nurse dressed the boy, and at the
last put on the two shoes, because he was beginning to learn
to walk.”

“Oh, I do hope he won't fall < as he. did yesterday,” said his
mother. “ Look at the bruise on his poor arm.”

“To their surprise the boy not only ran about without
falling, but jumped and sprang about as though he had walked
for years. The parents were delighted, and told everyone of the
cleverness of their child. One day when he was running in the
park with his mother, a gipsy woman came up to her and begged
her to let her tell her fortune. She turned the woman away,
THE BANISHED DWARES. ge

and to avoid her, went down a side walk. When she returned
to look after her child, she found him crying because the gipsy



AM Mitehell

had taken his pretty shoes. So I came on the foot of a wild
gipsy child. He could not walk, but spent his days in kicking
stones and walls with such force that I saw, to my joy, that the
shoes were getting worn. At last one day the child kicked so
hard against a root of a tree that the sole was torn off, and I
escaped and came here.”

Hop was forgiven as Hip had been, and was allowed to live
again with the other dwarfs.

Poor Hup did not fare so well as the others. He sat in his
kaleidoscope, in a toy-shop, and when any customer took him
up, he made the most perfect pictures ever seen. But such
56 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

toys were no more new, and no one seemed inclined to buy
it. At last a father came with a spoilt daughter who did not
want to have any more dolls, and did not know what she: did
want. At last she decided to have the kaleidoscope, and took
it home, and played with it one afternoon, and then put it
into a cupboard and forgot it. There he sat many years. The
child grew up. Once she opened the cupboard to get out
something she wanted, when she caught sight of the kaleido-
scope. She held it to one eye.

“ Ah,” she said “how curious that I enjoyed this so much
when I was a child, and now I don’t even think it pretty.”
She held it to the sewing maid, who, after she had looked
through, cried, “Ah, if only I could buy one.”

Her mistress laughed, and said, ‘“‘ You are very easily satisfied,
if such an old plaything pleases you.” The poor girl sighed.
“Take this if you like,’ said the young lady, who was in a
very good temper; “it is only in my way.”

The maid took it with many thanks. She knew very well
what she wanted to do with it. She had a brother and a
lame mother to keep. He helped a little by writing, and the
mother by sewing, but they were too delicate to do much. The
brother also drew designs, and the moment his sister saw the
wonderful pictures, she at once thought that it would be ofthe
greatest use to him. Hup understood his duties well, and
showed the artist such exquisite and new designs, that he rapidly
got a name for his good work, and the merchants in the town
soon kept him working from morning to night. Hup was so
happy when he saw the bright faces of the brother and sister,
and often lay awake at night thinking out new designs that
would bring more fame to the family. At last they became so
rich that the kaleidoscope was no more needed, and it was put
THE BANISHED DWARFS. 57

in a place of honour in a cupboard behind a glass door, by
the side of the bridal wreath of the brother's bride, and there
it remained one, two, three years and more. One day, one of
the brother's little sons, who was just old enough to play with
tin soldiers, caught sight of it, and cried until his mother gave
him the kaleidoscope in his hands, and Hup, who had had such
a. long rest, had to remember how to make new patterns once
more. The little one was not satisfied with looking only, but
wanted to see where the pictures came from, and he pressed
the glass so hard with his fingers that, snip snap, the glass flew
into a hundred pieces, and he found inside only broken pieces
of coloured glass and pearls. But if he had been very sharp
he would have found a tiny stool of pure gold, on which Hup
had sat for twenty years.

But dwarfs do not count time by years, and do not grow
old so quickly as men do, so he did not find his old friends
much changed, and when he returned once more to his old
happy home, he was delighted to find everything as it had
been in the past.


V.
LITTLE. COCK SPARKOW.

A tale for little children, who do not lke to be
dressed in the morning.

By THE EDITOR.

NE morning, Mr. Cock Sparrow was suddenly awak-
ened by a tremendous blow, which knocked him over
the side of his little nest on to the ground at the foot
of the old oak tree, nearly breaking his neck with the
force with which he fell on the earth. He first turned his head

round to see if it were dislocated, then stood up on his two

little legs and looked up to see who had wakened him so


LITTLE COCK SPARROW. 59

cruelly. On second thoughts, as he could only see the anxious
face of Mrs. Sparrow looking for him over the side of the nest,
he made up his mind that perhaps the best thing would be to
fly up, and enquire if she had knocked him over. So up he
flew, and getting very red in the face with temper, said:

“What did you kick me out of bed for?”

- “Oh, my dear,” said his meek little wife, “I should never
dream of doing such a thing. I was fast asleep, when I suddenly
heard a great noise, and when I opened my eyes, I could not
find you, and I was so frightened.”

“Who can have dared to treat me in such a manner?” said
Cock Sparrow, hopping round his nest with rage. “I might
have broken my neck! Oh, I am angry!”

“Father,” said a little voice, ‘I think, I know, I saw the twig
you always sit on, when you sing for us, come and knock you
out of bed.”

Cock Sparrow was so pleased that he had found out who his
enemy was, that he flew away and quickly returned with a very
fine worm for his eldest son’s breakfast, then off he flew to the twig.

“How dare you pitch me out of bed this morning? You are
very ungrateful after the songs I have sung to you, and I'll
never call on you again.”

“Dear Cock Sparrow,” said the twig, “I was just putting on
my best green dress to come and apologize to you. I would
not hurt a feather of your head for the world; but just as I was
waking up, Mr. North Wind gave me such a push, that I came right
across your nest, and could not help upsetting you. Do let us
be friends still, and do sing for me again.” And the little twig
was so unhappy, that she shed dew-drop tears.

Little Cock Sparrow made an elegant bow, and said, with a
very grand air:
60 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

“Madam, I freely forgive you, but—but—where does the
North Wind live? I must go and fight him, or he will think he
can take any liberty with me.”

“T cannot tell you where he lives; but I know he always
comes over that hill yonder, so perhaps you had better get
to the other side, and then ask your way.”

“T thank you, madam, good morning, said Cock Sparrow
very politely, for he was a true little gentleman.

He then went home and asked his wife to pack his port-
manteau, while he put on his best coat, trousers and tall hat.
When ready to start, he kissed his wife and children, and taking
his portmanteau under his wing, flew bravely over the hill.
When he got to the other side, he began to feel a little tired,
and his bag was rather too heavy, so he
wisely opened it, and taking out his dress
clothes, which he had thought would
make an impression on the North Wind,
threw then down to the ground, where they
happened to fall just before the nose of
a little chicken, who picked them up and
ran to his mother. Of course, she dressed



him at once in the suit, and he was soon

LA Mehl

the centre of an admiring crowd of hens

and chickens, who were very much taken with the coat-tails.
After this, all the chickens were so anxious to wear trousers,
that they cultivated feathers on their legs, and to this day get
all the first prizes in shows.

A butterfly he met, told him he must go further north, and
fly over another hill. Before he could get'quite over, he again
felt so tired and faint, that he opened his portmanteau once more,
and took out his tie and collar. They fell down by a large
LITTLE COCK SPARROW. 61

caterpillar, who was on his way to be married, so he at once
put them on, and was greatly admired by the bride and
bridesmaids. °

Cock Sparrow managed to get over the hill at last; but it
was very hard work, and his wings were very weary, so he said,
“Why should I carry an empty portmanteau? My wife gave it
me, so I am sorry to lose it; but, still, here it goes!”

So down to the earth, came the portmanteau, where it was



u

ames IN ~—
Bh De eh Si - AN ehel

soon captured by an industrious moth, who thought it would
make a capital chest for his winter provision.

Then Cock Sparrow met an owl, who told him the North
Wind lived many miles away, and that he had yet a river and
another mountain to fly over. So much exercise made the little
traveller warm, and as his head was beginning to ache, he took
off his hat and coat and threw them away.

The hat was picked up by a mouse, who hid it in’ an old
62 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

water-butt, because, he said to himself, the day might come when
he might like to wear it, especially when the sun was very hot.

The coat was found by a black beetle, who cut it up and
made winter top-coats for his family.

As Cock Sparrow was passing over the last mountain, he met
an eagle, who told him, that the North Wind lived just at the
other side and that he must knock atthe front door of his house,
and he would answer it. His house was a cave in the mountain,
the front door had a very large key hole, so he would soon
know it. Cock Sparrow thanked him, then kicking off his trousers,
as he was by this time very much exhausted, he struggled on,
until he found the door. He knocked bravely, and presently a
deep gruff voice answered, “Who's there?”

“Tt is Cock Sparrow.”

“What do you want?” asked the North Wind.

“‘T want to fight you, sir, because you nearly broke my neck
this morning. You really should not be so rough.”

“Oh! oh! oh!” bellowed the North Wind. “Let me look at you.”
And he peeped through the big key-hole. ‘What! you have no
clothes on? I couldn't dream of speaking to a man, who has
no clothes on. Be off at once.”

The North Wind laughed so hard through the key-hole, that
little Cock Sparrow was lifted off his feet, and, before he knew
where he was, the North Wind had blown him back into his
own nest, where his wife and children hung round his neck and
nearly smothered the little man with kisses, because he had
been so brave and valiant.

Then he had to go to bed and stay there until his busy little
wife had made him a new suit of clothes.
VI.

THE FLOWER ELF.

Adapted from the German.

qINCE upon a time, there lived a little boy, so wild
and mischievous, that his friends all called him Pickles.
To be lively is not a bad thing, but, alas! sometimes



~ Pickles’ energy led him into naughty ways. When he
went into the garden, for instance, and walked between the beds,
he couldn’t see a flower without wishing to pluck it, in order to
first look at it, then smell it, and then throw it away; a violet
or any other flower he would take roughly from its stalk, with-
out any pity for it, and throw it away directly into the yard
or on the drive.

As you may imagine, the gardener, who took a great deal
of trouble with his plants, got angry every day with the naughty
child. He begged and prayed him to leave the beautiful flowers
alone; but in spite of all, the boy tried his patience so often,
that at last he complained to Pickles’ father, who was very
cross, and punished him for being cruel to the poor flowers.

Then the flowers lived a short time in peace, and bloomed
luxuriantly in the well-planted beds, until, one day, Pickles
64 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

slipped into the garden, and began to pluck them once again.

A magnificent tulip grew there, so tall that the slightest
breath of air caused her to wave hither and thither, and being
the only one out, she could not hide herself from the boy’s
eyes, so he ran up to her, and, snip snap, she was soon in
his cruel hands. He looked at her; he had never in his life
seen such a lovely red
colour, and the yellow
stripes that ornamented
the tulip, seemed to
glisten like gold. When
he had gazed a full
minute he began to wish
as usual to take off the
leaves one by one; but
as he took the first
between his thumb and
finger, he heard a small
voice crying. He looked
again into the tulip, but
could see nobody there ;
but still he felt so fright-
ened that he dared not
pick any more leaves



AH Mitehed

off; so he carried it to

his nursery and laid it in a box inside a cupboard that contained
his books and toys. He would not have thought again of the
flower, if he had not, in the evening, just when his sisters were
going to bed, heard a slight noise coming from the desk, as if
a fly was fluttering in it. He opened it and listened. The
sound evidently came out of the box in which he had put the
THE FLOWER ELF. 65

tulip. He opened it, and sure enough, a red-and-gold fly flew
about in it, whose wings were so glistening and transparent, that
the evening glow which came through the window, seemed to
play on them. Pickles tried
to catch the beautiful crea-
ture, but that was not
necessary, for it settled at
once on the tulip, whose
leaves were drooping, and
whose head hung lifelessly
on the stem. Pickles took
the flower up, and took
the fly in his hand to look
at it more closely. He was
surprised it sat so quietly,
and still more so, when
he saw it was no ordinary
fly after all. He took his
little microscope to look
again at the wonderful
insect.

Wonder of wonders!
Instead of a fly sata little
Turk under the magnifying
glass. He wore a red and
yellow turban, just the



colour of tulip leaves; his /
: ; AM Matha
wide tunic was green, and ;
the under-skirt dark brown, like the scales of a tulip bulb—in
short, it was a full-blown, perfect Turk, who had nothing that
resembled a fly but the wings and a long, thin body. Pickles

5
66 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

let him fall, he was so very, very much astonished, and then he
heard a little voice saying, “Naughty boy! naughty boy!”

He very quickly picked him up again, and saw the Turk
was looking at him with round brown eyes, and that he had
drawn a sword no bigger than the sting of a fly. He cried
louder, “Naughty boy; naughty boy!” Pickles could very
easily have killed the little man, but he was too curious, and
wished to see what would happen next, so he said, “Why am
I a naughty boy?”

“Because you have destroyed my home and my food.”

“How?” asked Pickles, still more surprised, ‘ You have lived
in the tulip?”

“Yes, of course; I am a tulip elf.”

«What are elves?” asked Pickles, curiously.

“Little people who live in the flowers, and who are like
them. I look, for instance, like a Turk, and my turban resem-
bles the tulip, and has the colours of her leaves. In a larkspur
lives a horny knight. The thistle shelters an old lady, whose
dress is covered with the points of broken needles, so that
everyone is pricked who attempts to pluck it. In the rose sits
a lovely queen, dressed in pink silk, and who wears a golden
crown on her head; and a tall maiden in a long white veil and
dress, with a gold belt, lives in the lily. The night-violet con-
tains a very silent elf, who likes to sit on the eye-lids of children
so that they soon fall asleep. In the corn-flower a miller grinds
a sweet smelling dust, that the elves sprinkle over the cheeks
of babies so that they look white and red, and in a flax-flower
a busy lady-elf spins a fine thread, compared to which a spider’s
thread looks a thick rope, and millions of these, strung together,
float over the fields late in the summer. In every forget-me-not
you can see, if you look long enough, a little baby elf, with
THE FLOWER ELF. 67

two lovely blue eyes. In the camomile, an elf witha long
beard is constantly brewing a magic drink in a diamond pan.
Oh! I cannot really name all the elves. I can only tell you
that each little flower over which your foot passes thoughtlessly
has its own elf.”

“Do you never leave your flowers?” asked Pickles.

“Oh yes!” answered the Turk, “every night when the moon
shines bright, we come from the mountains and hedges into
the woods and gardens, and dance merrily together. If a man
or a woman come near we quickly hide ourselves in a dew
drop, which then shines all the brighter. But we take lost
children into our special care; we drive away the night fogs
from them with the waving of our wings, and sing a little song
into the child’s ear, which shows them how to find the right
way.”

“Where are you in the winter?’’ asked the boy.

“In the winter we retire.into the bulbs of our flowers, and
only leave them again when the spring comes and the leaves
break out. Then we unfold our wings, which have been
rolled up in the root, and let them lie for a time in the sun,
where they shine like a rainbow. Men think we are midges
or flies.”

“What do you eat and drink?” enquired Pickles.

“The bloom and sap of the flower, of course. Sometimes
we sip a little dewdrop when it rests on our leaves, but it is
too strong for us to take often. Oh! you naughty boy! you
have taken away all my food. I shall die of hunger. Alas! alas |!’’

“No, no, not so, my dear Elf,” said Pickles, whose heart
was quite softened at the sight of the Elfs tears. “I have
some sugar plums. I am not allowed to eat them, but I am
sure you would like them. I will give you the biggest, so
68 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

please don’t cry any more. See, I will make a hole in this
beautiful sugar strawberry, and then you can drink, and if
you would like it, I will bring you a dewdrop every morning.’
He laid. the strawberry in a corner of the box, but he saw
through the microscope that the little man shook his head sadly,
and lay down on the half-faded tulip and shut his eyes. When
Pickles saw that he did not wish to speak again, he shut the
box and took out the key, so that some air might get in through
the key-hole.

“Tf he had only taken some of the strawberry first,” he thought,
“he would have been much better, and he would soon get accus-

’

tomed to new food. I won’t let him want for anything. A toy
that can talk is much too lovely.”

The following morning; he took more sweets and a dewdrop
on a tulip-leaf to his cupboard, hoping that his little visitor
would have finished his strawberry. He was surprised to find it,
as he had left it, in the corner. He took his miscroscope. Alas!
the Elf lay sorrowfully on the now faded tulip. “Oh!” said
the boy, “dear, dear Elf, you haven’t touched the food I
left you.”

“T found a little sap in the stalk of my flower, and some
dust on her calyx, so I am satisfied to-day. Now, it is all finished,
and I know I shall die of hunger, unkind boy!”

Pickles begged so hard that the Elf would try to eat some
of the sweets; but he only sat on the dead flower, and hid his
face in his hands. The boy slipped away, feeling very unhappy,
and so sorry he had taken the tulip, and did not dare to go
near his prisoner again until the evening. When he opened the
box, he saw at once that part of the strawberry had been taken.
“Flave you really eaten something I brought you?” he cried.

‘Hunger hurts badly,” answered the Elf crossly, as he saw
THE FLOWER ELF. 69

Pickles taking away his dear tulip, and putting some sugar in
its place.

After this Pickles brought the little Turk a fresh bon-bon every
day, and saw with delight that he objected no more to his sweet
food; what also pleased him was, that he began to see him quite
clearly without the aid of the magnifying glass. He began after
a time to bring him a crumb of bread and a drop of milk; and
then his guest got so accustomed to a change, that Pickles fed
him from his own plate. He enjoyed the fun so much, that he
did not at first notice that this food produced the same effect
on the little man that it did on boys and girls, and that he was
really growing: until one day he found he was as tall as his
little finger. He grew more and more, and at last was too big
to remain in the box. So Pickles made a sofa for him out of
his silk handkerchief, and placed it in a corner of the cupboard
shelf, so that the Turk could sit or lie down as he chose.

Occasionally, Pickles would take the Elf out of the cupboard
and let him walk up and down the table, and watch him draw
his sword and swing it over his head, which looked very funny.

His step could soon be heard as he marched; but his wings
which had been so bright, looked broken, and he made no effort
to use them. Pickles was more delighted with him than ever, so
that he was very sad indeed when his visitor began to look ill. He
grew thinner and thinner, and one day Pickles found him lying
on his couch very weak and motionless, his face and hands were
covered with wrinkles, and his clothes were torn in many places.

“Poor, poor Elf,”’ said Pickles, “what is the matter with you?”’

“T must obey the laws of nature, I suppose,’’ answered the
Turk. “Did you not notice that the gardener took the tulip
bulbs out of the ground a long time ago? Since then I have
wasted away, for my life depends on the root. Now she will
70 AUNT MAYS ANNUAL.

soon fade, and I must die with her. Unkind boy, had you not
enough joys and pleasures without hurting a beautiful flower?
Alas, I die!”

“No,” cried Pickles, ‘you shall not die. See, now is the time
the gardener puts the tulip-roots again into the garden, and
the root of your flower will grow up again, as fresh as ever.
I will take you to it, and you shall live again, so don’t be sad.”

“Foolish boy,’ answered the’ little man, “when an Elf is
taken from the root, they both wither and die. Leave me, I
don’t want to speak to you any more.”

He turned on his side, and shut his eyes.

Pickles shut the cupboard door, -and said softly to himself,
“How many elves I must have killed! Oh, if I had known all
this before!”

Although the boy saw that he could do no more for the
poor Turk, he continued to visit him daily, and always found
him lying on the couch looking like a dead old man. The
sight troubled him, but still he could not make up his mind
to bury him.

He therefore covered him with a white handkerchief and left
him for some time.

Christmas drew near, and one day the gardener brought a
flower-pot into the nursery.

“T can’t understand this pot,” he said. “All the other tulips
have grown up well, with the exception of this one. So I
think it must be dead, and I did want to bring your mother
all the six in full bloom on Christmas Day. I will put it by
the fireplace, perhaps the heat will bring it to life.”

A few days after this, Pickles was standing by his cupboard,
and suddenly remembered his little Turk. He lifted the hand-
kerchief. Oh! wonder! he lay perfectly still, but his eyes were
THE FLOWER ELF. 41

wide open, and they looked enquiringly at the boy, who uttered
a cry of joy, but instantly shut the door, as the gardener came
into the room the same moment to look at his flower.

“Really,” he said, “I can see the tips of a leaf. The pot
had better remain here until the flower comes.”

Pickles couldn’t sleep at all that night, he thought all the
time of the Elf, and as soon as daylight appeared he jumped
up, and found him sitting up on the couch.

“My own root must be somewhere near me,” he murmured,
“or I should not have been roused from my sleep.”

“Tt is here,” cried Pickles. ‘“As soon as you are stronger
I will take you to it.”

The Elf looked lovingly at the boy’s happy face. ‘TI shall
soon be all right again,” he said.

So it came to pass, that as the tulip grew higher and higher,
he grew stronger, and his wings began to flutter, but he was
not as beautiful as he had been formerly; the colours he wore
were not so bright, and the tulip-bud did not open as it ought
to have done.

“Perhaps it will not blossom after all,’ said the gardener.
“Tt is a pity.”

When Pickles again visited the cupboard, the convalescent
Elf said to him,

“TJ have heard the gardener’s complaint. Alas! the bud will
not open until I am free. If you would be kind to me, do
carry me to it. It is something higher than Fate that has
brought my own flower to me. You have now a chance of
doing me a good turn, Won’t you do it, dear boy?”

“But if I take you, I shall never see you any more,”
answered Pickles; and he began to cry. “I love you so
much.”
72 AUNT MAIS ANNUAL.

“JT will look out of my flower at you, and the memory of
the kindness you have done me will always make you feel
happy. Oh! do let me go to my house.”

Pickles loved the Elf very dearly, but he had begun to feel
pity for him, so he took up the little Flower Elf tenderly, and
placed him by the side of the tulip-bud. The Turk spread
out his wings, and flew on to the point of the bud. This
movement stirred the leaves, so that they opened, and the
flower sprung out,

The astonished eyes of the boy saw the little spirit grow
smaller and smaller, until he disappeared in the heart of the
flower, and out of its depths came the words, “Good boy,
good boy.”

The tulip bloomed more beautiful than before, and when
the gardener carried the six pots into the room on Christmas
Day, she was the finest of all.

Pickles never pulled a flower thoughtlessly after this, and
became a great favourite of the gardener, who always gave
him his biggest strawberries and gooseberries and _-all other fruits.
VIL.

JACK AND THE DWARFS.
By

BESSIE GREEN.



—[ACK lived with his father and mother in a little cottage
| in a wood. They were all very happy, though they
| did not often see anyone except Master Timothy, a



‘servant of old Sir Lockup, who came every month for
the rent of their cottage. In the morning Jack and his father went
away, axe on shoulder, and worked all day, cutting down trees and
making bundles of sticks to be sold in the town; and when they
came home they found supper ready, and the dear mother who
had been busy all day, waiting for them with a bright smile of
welcome. In the long winter evenings they sat round the fire —
the mother would spin busily, while the father told wonderful
tales of the fairies that lived in the forest, and Jack carved
pretty things out of the hard pine-wood and listened to his
father’s stories. They lived for many years very happily in this
way, till one winter, when the ground was covered with snow
and all the streams were frozen, the woodcutter slipped as he
was carrying a heavy bundle of wood, and hurt himself, so that
14 AUNT MAI'S ANNUAL

he was obliged to stay by the fire instead of going out to work
as usual. Jack and his mother were very sorry about this of
course, and as the days went on and the woodcutter did not
get any better, they became very anxious, It was drawing
near the time when Master Timothy came for the month’s money,
and they knew quite well that if they were not able to pay
their rent at once, Sir Lockup, who was an unkind old man,
would turn them out of their house and not care at all what
became of them. As the woodcutter had not worked for many
days, and Jack, who was only a little boy, could not do his
father’s work and his own as well, they had not nearly enough
money, so they were all three very unhappy.

One afternoon Jack went out to gather some sticks for the
fire. He wandered along without looking where he was going,
and at last feeling very miserable and tired he sat down under
a tree and began to cry. But it was too cold to sit still long,
and presently he remembered that it was getting late and he
had not yet found any sticks. He began to search among the
trees, and found to his great surprise a heap of sticks lying
close by him, all ready cut and neatly arranged. He wondered
very much how they had got there, and thought at first some
one must have left them and would come back for them; then
he remembered that no one lived in that part of the wood.
Why should he not take them home after all?

It was certainly very curious to find them so neatly cut and
arranged, and they were very heavy indeed, much heavier than
ordinary sticks. Jack had not gone far before he heard some
one say in a very faint, weak voice:

“Please put me down.” ;

Jack thought he must have fancied this, as he was quite alone
and sticks could not talk, but he had not gone much further
JACK AND THE DWARES. 18

before a sharp prick in his finger and a severe pinch on his
arm, made him drop his bundle, and look down to see if he
had carried off anything in the middle of it.

Then he saw to his great surprise, that on each bough was
sitting a tiny man, about three inches high, clad in brown just
the colour of the wood, and with a little hat covered with grey
lichen like that which clung to the pine branches. Jack was
too surprised at first to do anything but stare, and one of the
tiny men said:

“Do not take these sticks home, little boy. You will be very
unkind if you do.”

“Why shall I be unkind?” asked Jack, “I have found the
sticks. They belong to me.”

“They belong to us,” answered all the little men together,
and the one who had spoken first said:

“We are the servants of the King of the Dwarfs, who lives
in the mountain on the other side of the forest. Wehad come
out to gather wood, and hoped to meet nobody, for if anyone
takes the sticks we gather, we are obliged to serve that person
for seven years, and till that time is over we cannot go
back to our dear home in the mountain or see our dear people.
Oh! little boy, you will not be so unkind as to force us to be
your servants and leave all we love for seven years.”

Poor Jack had been thinking how nice it would be to have
so many servants, who would perhaps help them to earn some
money to pay the rent. The dwarf looked at him with piteous
eyes, and he remembered how his father used to say: ‘Never
do evil that good may come”. It would certainly be doing
evil to force the poor little dwarfs to be his servants, but he
did so want their help. At last he said:

“T won't take the sticks.”
76 AUNT MAIT’S ANNUAL.

“Oh! thank you, thank you,” called out the little men, and
the one who had spoken first, said:

“You must not think because we are so small we are not
grateful. You have done something for us, cannot we do some-
thing for you?”

“T don’t know,” said Jack, ‘‘but we are in great trouble.”

“Tell us about it, and we will help you,” cried all the little
men. So Jack told his sad story. When he had finished, one
of the dwarfs said:

“Here is something that will help you,” and he took off his
cap and put it into Jack’s hand. Jack wondered what good the
grey cap could possibly be, but the little man said: “If you
are in any difficulty, if Master Timothy takes you up to the
great house and Sir Lockup says you must go to prison, throw
the cap straight into his face, and say —

“Come and help me, come this way,
Master of the cap — obey,
Come and help without delay.”

then you will see what will happen.”

The little men shouldered their sticks, and trotted down the
path so fast that Jack hadn’t even time to say ‘Thank you.”

He was very much astonished, but not so much as some
little boys would have been, who had never heard the wonderful
fairy tales the woodcutter told in the long winter evenings.
He put the little cap in his pocket and set about collecting
some more sticks, eager to tell his mother about the. strange
friends he had made in the wood.

When he entered the kitchen his mother was crying, his father
looked angry, and Master Timothy stood in the middle of the
room talking very loud and fast, with his ugly face redder than
JACK AND THE DWARES. 17

usual. Two men stood behind him, and seemed to be waiting
for his orders. Jack ran up to his mother.

“Ohl Mother, what is the matter?’’ he asked.

“We can’t pay the rent, dear,’ she replied, “and Master
Timothy will not wait a day. He says he will take us all up
to the great house, and that Sir Lockup will put us in prison,”
and the poor woman
cried again.

“Ves, I’ve said it,
and I mean to do
it,’’ called out Master
Timothy in his harsh
voice. ‘Come along,
you good-for-nothing
fellow, you,” and he
dragged the woodcutter
to the door. Nothing
could be done, the
woodcutter’s foot still



hurt him so much that

AH Mitchell,

he found it very hard
to walk, but he was pushed and pulled along by Master Timothy
and the other men, and the poor mother followed with Jack,
crying bitterly. So after a long time they came to the great
house, and were brought into the room where Sir Lockup had
just finished his breakfast.

Sir Lockup was a very ugly man in a yellow dressing-gown.
He had ever so much money hidden away in chests and boxes,
but he spent scarcely anything and lived mostly on mouldy
crusts and potato-peelings. He had a large black cat, so thin
that you could see its bones sticking up underneath its skin,
78 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

but to whom he gave every day some of his potato-peelings,
a thing which he never did for any one else. The cat was
sitting on the table when the woodcutter was pushed into the
room, and it stared at Jack with its big, green eyes.

“Now then,” snarled Sir Lockup, “what do you want here?”

“He can’t pay his rent,” growled Master Timothy, ‘So I’ve
turned him out.”

‘“‘Miaou,” squalled the cat.

“Oh, Sir! if you only knew,” cried the poor mother, ‘it is

’

because —”

“Be quiet!” said the old man; “you must go to prison, all
three. Those who can’t pay their rent go to prison, I make
it a rule.”

“But if you will let me explain, Sir, how it was,” began the
woodcutter.

“Be quiet!” said Sir Lockup. “Here, Timothy, is the key
of the big dungeon. The sooner they are in prison the better.”

Jack had been listening all this time very hard, and when
Sir Lockup had finished, he ran up to him, threw the cap in
his face and called out—

“Come and help me, come this way,
Master of the cap —obey.
Come and help without delay.”

Sir Lockup started up in a great rage, and ran towards Jack,
who got behind a big chair. Instead of following him, the old
man ran straight to the door. He looked so funny that Jack
could not help laughing, for all the time he was trying his
hardest to get back to his arm-chair.

“Timothy,” he panted, “lock the door! don’t let me get

a

through
JACK AND THE DWARFS. 19

Timothy ran towards the door, but instead of locking it,
opened it wide, and Sir Lockup ran through, trying all the time
to stop, and calling out,

“Stop me, sombody, stop me quick!” Jack and his father
and mother felt themselves gently pushed by invisible hands,
and they followed out of the house into the wood. On the
way Jack told his parents all about his meeting with the dwarfs,
and though they were very much surprised they were not afraid,
for, said the woodcutter,

“My grandfather had dealings with the dwarfs, and they were
always kind and honest.”

They went on till they reached an open place in the wood,
where a great many broken pine-boughs were lying on the
ground.

Then they all stopped, and suddenly from among the sticks,
jumped out hosts of little brown men, who danced round Sir
Lockup and Master Timothy, crying,

‘Ho, ho, ho,! Ha, ha, ha!”

One of them came up to the woodcutter and said:

“Don’t be afraid. You must come with us now, but no harm
will happen to you.” Then very quickly they made a sort of
sledge of pine branches, and told the woodcutter and his wife
and little boy to get into it. They tied ropes to old Sir Lockup
and Master Timothy, in spite of their struggles and cries, and
made them drag the sledge along the rough snowy paths of
the wood, seating themselves upon the branches, and laughing
and clapping their hands as the sledge went swiftly along, in
spite of the anger of the two unwilling horses. After a long
time they reached the mountain and entered a dark narrow
passage, leading down and down, deep into the earth. The
walls of the passage shone and sparkled dimly in the darkness,
80 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

as if there were rubies and emeralds upon them, and at every
corner queer, grinning faces peeped out, little men hooked
themselves on to the sledge, poked Master Timothy, or slyly
pulled the tails of Sir Lockup’s yellow dressing-gown. Some-
times they passed a hollow place, light and warm, where they
heard the sound of hammers and rude songs as the little men
worked busily, making gold and silver collars and bracelets,
and all manner of wonderful things more fine and delicate than
any made by human workmen.



At last the travellers reached a great hall, dimly lighted by
the glimmer of the diamonds and emeralds in the walls, and
with a throne all of gold on a raised platform at one end,

On the throne sat a little brown dwarf, whose coat and shoes
sparkled with jewels and who wore on his head a splendid
shining crown. He was the King of the Dwarfs. The wood-
cutter and Jack made their best bow, and the mother curtsied,
JACK AND THE DWARFS. 81

as she had been taught at the village school. Sir Lockup and
Timothy stood near, very angry but powerless to move. The
king looked hard at the two old men.

“T have heard of the evil doings of these mortals,” said he,
“Do you bring them here for me to judge them?”

“We do, oh King,” replied a Dwarf. “If your Majesty will
graciously listen to the tale of this good woodcutter, your
Majesty will judge it well that we brought them.”

The woodcutter stepped forward and told his story quite
simply. When he had finished, the king, pointing to Master
Timothy, said:

“Has this man ever done any good to anyone?”

Nobody answered,

“Take him away to the mines,’’ said the king; and after
Mastér Timothy had been led away down a dark passage, the
king said:

“Has this man ever done any good to anyone?” and he
pointed to Sir Lockup.

“Yes, your Majesty,” called out a cracked voice from the
other end of the hall, and the big black cat, thinner than ever,
and with eyes shining like live coals, came leaping to her
Master’s side.

“What has he done for you?” asked the king.

“He gave me some of his own potato-peelings every morning,”
replied the cat.

“He did not give you very many,” said the king, looking
at the poor, lean cat; ‘“‘but it is well. You will remember this
act of kindness,” he went on, turning to the dwarfs who stood
near, ‘when you give him his work.”

“Yes, your Majesty,’ replied the dwarf, as he led Sir Lockup
away.

6
82 AUNT MATS ANNUAL. |

“What are they going to do with them?” whispered Jack in
a frightened voice to his mother.

The king overheard him and answered:

“They have been very unkind on earth, so now they will
have to work hard for us down here.”

“Will they ever be allowed to come back again?”

“That depends on how they do their work. But in any case
Sir Lockup will be allowed to go first, because he was kind to
his cat, and Master Timothy has been kind to no one. And now,”
said the King, “would you rather go back to your cottage
in the wood, or would you like to go into another country on
the other side of the mountain, where all the people are good,
and where you could easily find work. Even though Sir Lockup
has gone away, it is not certain that you will find a good man
for your master, and in this other country every one is kind.”

The woodcutter talked a little while to his wife and Jack, and
then said:

“OQ King, we thank you all very much for your kindness
and help, and we would go into this new country, if you will
show us the way.”

“We always repay kindness with kindness,” said the king.
“Tt was your little boy who was first kind to us. Farewell,
and all prosperity in the new country.”

Then they were led away by the dwarfs and went on for
many hours in the pine-wood sledge. Jack fell asleep against
his mother’s shoulders, and woke just as they came out of the
mountain into the new country. What a lovely sight met their
eyes! Here it was spring. All the fields were green with the
young fresh grass, and the fruit trees hung down their branches
heavy with white blossoms. Little children wandered in the
meadows, gathering great bunches of daisies, cowslips, and
JACK AND THE DWARFS. 83

buttercups. The sleek brown cows lifted up their heads from
among the flowers, and moved away slowly, tinkling their bells,
as the children passed. A blackbird sang on the hawthorn



An He cit

hedge, and his wife on her nest looked out at the travellers
with friendly black eyes. A pretty stream ran down the middle
of the valley, and on the banks clustered many cottages, with
thatched roofs and bright little gardens in front.
84 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

An old white-headed man came slowly along the path, and
held out his hand to the travellers, saying:

“Welcome!”

The dwarfs sprang into their sledge.

“Good-bye! Good luck!” they shouted, waving their lichen
caps, and then they disappeared in the dark mountain, and Jack
and his father and mother turned to begin their life in the
beautiful new country.
VIII.

THE STORY OF FANCY.
By
NORLEY CHESTER.

Author of “ Olga’s Dream.”

=| HERE was once a little girl called Fancy. She was
a child of—but no, I don’t think I will tell you who
| her mother was at present. Perhaps you may find it
out for yourselves before you come to the end of the
story. She was really a fairy child, but she did not know that
herself, for she had been sent to live with some mortals and



no one told her of her fairy origin. Fancy was a pretty little
thing, with long golden hair which streamed behind her like a
wave of the sea touched by the rising sun, and dark blue
eyes which shone with a light like that of the evening star, and
her laugh was like the silvery peel which blue-bells make in
Fairyland when the fairies ring them, or like the sound of the
mountain rivulet when the snow first melts, and it tumbles and
hurries over its stony bed in its haste to reach the valley below.
The mortals, however, did not care much for these things.
86 AUNT MAIS ANNUAL.

The were not used to fairies, and they said that Fancy was
very untidy and troublesome. Perhaps they were right, for
I am afraid Fancy had brought a good many of her fairy ways
to earth, and did not pay as much attention to the rules of
ordinary life as she ought to have done. It did seem, well, a
little odd, to say the least, you know, to see a small figure
dressed in nothing more than
a thin white night-gown dancing
on the lawn by moonlight. But
Fancy said everything looked
so pretty, and she was not all
sleepy, so what was the use of
staying in bed? Then it is also
a little unusual to declare that
you cannot eat your dinner
seated at table like other people,
but must be off in the woods
to pick wild fruit and drink the
clear water from the running
stream. And as for keeping her
in order, no sooner did anyone



AW Mtr

begin to speak seriously to her,

than, lo! she was out of the window and across the meadows,
away, with golden hair streaming in the wind, and her silvery
laughter echoing behind her. At last the mortals with whom
she lived declared they could stand her ways no longer, and
Fancy must have a governess.

So they engaged a most estimable person called Miss Instruc-
tion, and they told her how Fancy was running wild, and that
she must be kept well in hand, and taught to behave herself
properly. The next day Miss Instruction came with an armful
THE STORY OF FANCY, 87

of books and began to give Fancy some lessons, and what do
you think she did? She laughed more gaily than ever, and
shook her golden locks, and then she pulled the spectacles off
Miss Instruction’s nose, so that the poor lady could not see
what was going on at all, and she threw the lesson books out
of the window, and spilt the ink all over her new copy-book,
and stuffed the seam she was to have sewn into the coal-box,
and then she darted through the window herself, and could not
be found anywhere.

But when night came, a clear sweet voice, which was never
a bird’s, was heard from the top of the elm-tree in the garden,
and there was Miss Fancy swinging to and fro on the topmost
branch, with a forest of green leaves below her, and all the
golden stars above. And as she would not come down, and
no one dared climb the tree to fetch her, she stayed out there
all night.

After this the mortals said that the only thing to do with
Fancy was to send her to boarding-school. The school to
which she was sent was very different to the one where any
of you are likely to go, for what I am telling you about,
happened a good many years ago, and I am thankful to say
there are not many like it existing now. It was kept by two
sisters named Miss Fact and Miss Theory, and I am sorry to
say that Fancy hated them both very much. They certainly
were not very attractive people, for Miss Fact was very bald
and angular, and Miss Theory was very narrow and squeezed
in, and her features were very pronounced. But the lessons
they gave were what Fancy disliked more. The poor child was
well under discipline now: there was no opportunity for jumping
out of windows or climbing trees, singing like a bird all through
the summer night. She became ‘subdued and sad, and the
88 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

Fairyland of her infancy, some faint recollection of which had
always been present with her before, receded further and further
from her mind. Miss Fact’s lessons were very dry and hard,
but Miss Theory’s were almost worse. She took deportment,
and superintended the gymnasium, and some very cruel things
were practised there. Her object was to make all the children
as narrow as herself, and she actually had a groove into which
she used to try and squeeze them. Can you not imagine how
horribly it hurt? It was so silly too, was it not? to want to turn
all the children out in the same pattern, when they were as
different one from another as a rose is from a daisy, or a fox-
glove from a violet.

For some time everything went on smoothly and Fancy’s
teachers nodded their heads with satisfaction, and said she was
improving wonderfully and would be quite genteel in time,
but at last Fancy’s conduct broke down and she fell into
terrible disgrace. This was not altogether her own fault how-
ever, for a boy who had lately come to school as a day-pupil
was quite as much to blame, as you will see. The boy’s name
was Imagination, and he, like Fancy, had a fairy origin. This
had attracted the two children to each other from the first,
though they themselves did not know the reason, and Miss Fact
and Miss Theory did everything they could to keep them apart.
Indeed they often regretted having admitted Imagination at all,
for they did not understand him and thought him a very trouble-
some pupil.

One night when poor Fancy had just gone up to bed, feeling
very miserable, she heard a voice calling her name from outside,
and on looking very cautiously through the window, she saw
Imagination below.

“Come,” he said very softly, ““Come, dear Fancy, and havea
THE STORY OF FANCY. 89

dance with me in the forest. The stars are shining, and the
moon is up, and the fairies are out in their magicrings. Come,
Fancy; Come.”

Could you have resisted such an invitation? Fancy could not.
She nodded her head, sending her golden locks over her shoul-
ders in a shower, and the
next moment she was out
of the window and away
with Imagination. He put
his strong young arm round
her, and she seemed to be
lifted from earth as he
bore her along through
the sweet night-air right
into the forest. The moon
sent forth a mystic light,
and the stars hung like
golden lamps in the sky.
The birds all awoke and
flooded the forest with
song; and from the count-



less nooks and corners the AM Matehett
fairies came frisking and
frolicking to greet them. Faster and faster they sped, until the
whole world seemed transformed. The moon was below them
a great golden lake; the stars could be plucked like flowers;
the clouds wore white wings, which fanned them as they passed;
the blue-bells were ringing, ringing; and the wind swept the
trees with sweet unearthly music.

How she arrived back at school, Fancy never knew; but
suddenly the forest and the fairies, and the bright eager face
go AUNT MAI'S ANNUAL.

of young Imagination seemed to vanish, and she found herself
back in her bedroom with Miss Fact and Miss Theory awaiting





her. Can’t you imagine how angry they were? It seemed as if
they did not know how they could punish Fancy enough. They
shut her up in a dark room all the next day, and they nipped
THE STORY OF FANCY. QI

her —it hurt dreadfully, you may be sure—and they squeezed
her into the groove more tightly than ever. But as for Imagin-
ation, they expelled him from the school.

Poor Fancy was very unhappy, of course; but now the fairies,
who had been watching her all the while, thought it time to
interfere. So the next evening, when she was sitting alone in
the room where she had been shut up as a punishment, a
wonderful thing happened. Suddenly a sweet little lady, with
the kindest yet cleverest of faces, stood before her. Fancy
dried her eyes and gazed at her in amazement, and then the
lady laughed such a low musical laugh.

“T see you don’t know me yet,” she said. “I am your
fairy godmother, Mrs. Culture.”

I dare say you can picture Fancy’s surprise and delight. She
had not even known before that she was so lucky as to possess
a fairy godmother, and here she was in person.

“Why were you crying?” asked the godmother, and Fancy
dried her eyes and told her all about her midnight adventure.

Mrs. Culture did not seem very angry, she even smiled a
little, but at the same time she told her goddaughter that she
had been very naughty.

“You are too young for that sort of thing,” she said, “and
much, very much, too wild and untidy.”

“Too untidy!” echoed Fancy, surprised to find that her
godmother should think about dress; for Fancy, I am sorry to
say, really never gave a thought to it herself.

“Of course,” said Mrs. Culture, “just look at yourself!” She
produced a mirror as she spoke. I do not know whether it
came out of her pocket, or whether, being a fairy, she had
only to wish for it to appear; at any rate there it was, and
Fancy saw herself full length in it. Certainly she was untidy.
92 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

Her beautiful golden hair was rough and uncombed, and her dress
was most peculiar. The bodice was intended to fasten behind,
but Fancy, finding it easier to do in front, had put it on the
wrong way about, and with it she wore a skirt which she had
outgrown, and which did not match the bodice; and her shoes
were very shabby, and one of her stockings had a great hole in it.

« All that must be altered,” said Mrs. Culture, “but now you
are to come with me.”

“What will Miss Fact and Miss Theory say?’’ Fancy began
to ask, when the door opened, and there they themselves
appeared. Strange to say when they saw Mrs. Culture they
seemed quite afraid of her. Miss Theory tried to puff herself
out a little, and Miss Fact began to look for something to put
on her head to hide how bald she was, and both of them
seemed quite nervous and confused. But something more
wonderful still happened, for Mrs. Culture laughed her low
laugh, and as she did so both Miss Fact and Miss Theory
vanished. Then Mrs. Culture led Fancy to the fairy carriage
which was waiting for them outside.

“My horse’s name is Higher Education,” she said as she
took the reins, ‘“‘and as he is rather fresh, I prefer to drive
him myself.” Then she whipped him up, and away they sped
to fairy land. The landscape opened out to Fancy as she went,
and she saw shining waters and glowing meadows, and far away
long ranges of mountains with snowy peaks which seemed to
touch the sky.

“Here we are,’ said Mrs. Culture, stopping at last. “My
child, this is your home.”

Then Fancy stepped from the carriage, and, wonderful to relate,
the untidy clothes had vanished, and she was robed in graceful
shining drapery. And she found herself in a beautiful palace,
THE STORY OF FANCY. 93

with great rocks for walls, and soft grass, gemmed with beautiful
flowers as a carpet, and two people waiting to welcome her.
One was her own mother—well, I will tell you her name now,
she was dear old Mother Nature herself — and she folded her



AM Mitchell

child in her arms, and held her to her great heart. And the
other—can you guess, I wonder, who it was? Why, no other
than Imagination himself. And while Fancy stood all amazed,
he brought a crown of lovely flowers and placed it on her head,
94 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

and told her how she was herself a fairy and that he was the
Prince of Fairyland.

That is the end of my story of Fancy, but she and Imagina-
tion did not always stay in Fairyland They were so sorry for
the poor mortals who were taught by Miss Fact and Miss
Theory, that they often come back to earth to bring little
glimpses of Fairyland with them. Mrs. Culture, too, often
drives in her fairy carriage, so if you look out you may some day
see them all for yourselves.
IX,
THE VIOLIN PLAYER.
By

AUNT Mat.

=|ISTEN, children, and I will tell you what happened
many years ago, when your fathers and mothers



were little children, to a wonderful player on the
violin, when he met a greater musician than himself.
Years ago, in the little village of Landolin, which is situated
near the Black Forest, lived a little boy called Franz Hormuth.
Landolin lies in the heart of a large Roman Catholic district,
and Franz was in consequence, brought up in the shadow of
the Church. When he was a very little boy his mother took .
him to all the services, and she soon discovered: that the strains
of the organ would at first check his wails and tears, and later,
his fits of passionate temper, which I am sorry to say Franz
now and then gave way to. The most wonderful sights to
little Franz were the Saints’ days, when the white-robed priest
walked round the village under the canopy, preceded by the
acolytes, in bright red dresses; and when on the return to


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if

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AM Mitchell


THE VIOLIN PLAYER. 97

church the organ pealed forth, and the boys’ voices ascended,
Franz’s heart would almost burst with the desire to go straight
up to Heaven, where the angels could teach him to make such
beautiful music.

Franz’s mother was very, very poor; his father had died
when he was only one year old, and the poor woman was
obliged to work hard in the fields all day, to earn bread for
herself and golden-haired boy. Sometimes in the evenings,
when she returned home, her heart would be very sad, for she
had not earned enough to buy wood to put into their stove,
and had only a very little piece of brown bread for their sup-
per. But when she saw Franz’s rosy, happy, little face she
felt better, and after they had divided the crust, she would
take his hand and lead him to the church, where they found
warmth and light, and heard the organ peal forth.

Franz’s mother had a clear, beautiful voice, and when they
reached home again, often lulled him to sleep by singing all
the sweet strains they had heard in the church. So Franz
was nursed in music, and as he grew older, his love for it
grew stronger and stronger, and the old white-haired priest
would often lay his hand on the boy’s hand and say:

“Franz, my boy, we must make a musician of you, and then
you shall sing in our church.’ Then Franz would stand on his
tip-toes and feel very big and grand.

One day, when he was ten years old, a strolling player came
through the village, and for the first time in his life Franz
heard the notes of a violin. They sank deep, deep into his
soul, and that night he told his mother that he must save every
penny he could, to buy such a marvellous instrument. His
mother, who was very proud of her good little son, promised
to help him, and lay aside her little mite.
98 AUNT MAIS ANNUAL.

So they both worked very hard, and saved little by little,
until one evening, on Franz’s sixteenth birthday, they opened
their money-box and eagerly added up the money.

“‘Mother,” exclaimed Franz, as they counted thirty-shillings,
“The good Lord has given me my violin. We have enough!”
The happy woman could not speak, but her eyes filled with
tears, and she drew the boy’s face to hers and gave him a
proud mother’s kiss.

The next evening as soon as work was over, Franz and
his mother started from their home, and went over the fields,
by the winding river, and along the broad high-road until
they reached the nearest town.

The good priest had sent a note with them to an old friend
who kept a large stock of musical instruments, and to him they
wended their way,’ and in a very short time Franz was the
proud possessor of a violin, which the kind seller reduced
considerably for his friend’s sake.

“T can tell you of a young professor who lives here, who
would give you lessons for very little pay, if you could come
here for them,” he said to Franz as they were leaving the shop,

They thanked him, and Franz promised to return for lessons,
and then hurried home through the dark night with their precious
burden.

Neither slept that night. Now and then Franz put out his
hand, and trembled as he touched a string, and a sweet sound
wailed forth. His mother lay still and listened, and thanked
God for giving her such a clever and good son.

The next year Franz practised every evening on his violin,
and when the neighbours heard this, they often gave him pennies
for doing work for them, and then they believed that they paid
for his lessons, and had every right to say, ‘our violin”.
THE VIOLIN PLAYER. 90

So time went on, and the village folks grew very proud of
their young musician, who became, when he was eighteen, the
leader of the village band, which played every week in the inn.

His mother lived to see this, but she was no longer strong
enough to work in the fields, and Franz, like the good son he
was, worked for her during the day, and played for her every
evening, and his mother could never make up her mind when
she talked about him to the neighbours, whether his playing
was better than his goodness, or his heart better than his music.

One day two travellers strayed out of the beaten track, and
found themselves, as night approached, at Landolin, very hungry
and very cold. The found their way to the inn, and the
landlord gave them a hearty welcome, and a warm supper.

When they were finishing their meal, the sounds of music and
merriment came through the open door, as the landlord brought
in the pipes and lager-beer.

“What is going on downstairs?’’ asked one of the two men.

“We have a school-feast to-day, and it always ends with a
dance in my house,” said mine host. ‘We have a very great
musician living in our village, and he is now playing for the
dancers. Would you care to join us, gentlemen?”

The travellers thanked him, and said they would shortly
come down. As he left the room they looked at one another
and laughed.

“Shall I let mine host know that Jean Becker, of the famous
Florentine Quartette, is now under his roof, and does not care
to hear this village musician murder his beloved violin?” said
the younger man.

“No,” said Jean Becker, ‘Let us go down and enjoy our-
selves. I am in the right mood for romping with children;
but, remember, you are not to breathe my name.”
100 AUNT MAYS ANNUAL.

So down the steps went the two friends, and found them-
selves in a big, well-lighted room, filled with merry, laughing
children, who were trying to dance a waltz to the strains of
Franz’s music. He sat at one end of the room, pouring his
soul out on the strings of his dear violin, scarcely seeing the
children as they flew hither and thither. The dancers’ feet flew
round faster and faster, and Jean Becker, seizing a little maiden
of ten, and his friend a still younger child, whirled into the
giddy crowd. The children screamed and laughed louder than
ever, when they saw their new, big play-fellows; and the land-
lord and villagers stood in the doorway, and looked through
the windows to admire the scene, and more than one said:

“Ah! They all dance so beautifully because Franz plays so
well.”

At last Franz brought the music.to an end, and all the
breathless boys and girls sank on the benches and chairs placed
round the room, and laughed and talked about the two big
men who had joined them,

Jean Becker stepped up to Franz and thanked him for play-
ing so well, and asked if he might look at his instrument.
Franz handed it .to him half fearfully, lest his violin should
come to any harm in the hands of a stranger.

Jean Becker, placing one foot on a chair, put the violin into
position, and drew the bow quietly across the strings. A won-
derful chord transfixed Franz’s attention, and he never once
removed his eyes from Becker’s face, as he suddenly began the
most marvellous magical air. The children and villagers became
as one man. They laughed, smiled, had tears in their eyes as
Jean Becker commanded them in his music. A wonderful light
lit up Franz’s face, as though the one thing he had always
been looking for in his life had come to pass.
THE VIOLIN PLAYER. IOI

At last Jean Becker stopped, and laying the violin on the
table, turned hurriedly towards the door, wishing to depart before
the spell was broken. As he reached the door, a groan, as
from a hurt animal stopped him, then a crack, and then a cry
like a little child in pain. He turned and saw that Franz had broken
the violin across his knee, and was standing with his arms raised,
each hand holding a part of the murdered violin, and crying,

“ After this God has touched you, no human hand shall ever
again desecrate you.’ And sinking down on his knees, he hid
his face in his hands and wept for grief at losing his dear
violin, and for joy that he had heard a greater player than himself.

I know children, you never like sad endings to your stories,
and as the above tale is perfectly true, it may give you pleasure
to hear that Franz became a noted player in the country round
Landolin, and he has at the present day a little grandson who
intends to play some day as well as his grandfather.
X.

CHILDREN’S GARDENS.
By

M. HOoySTEp.

JANUARY.



= a|HE dreariest part of the winter is now over. Even
though we may have our deepest snow and most
mi, severe cold, yet the days are lengthening, and there
= is the prospect of spring to cheer us. Digging,
manuring, and transplanting can be carried on, unless the ground
is frozen hard, or very wet, as just after athaw. Never dig
when snow is on the ground. Snow is a capital fertilizer if
allowed to melt as it falls.

There are sure to be many fine dry days when planting can
be done, Hardy bulbs that, owing to severe frost, were not
put in sooner will, if planted now, bloom late. Winter aconites,
snowdrops, and late christmas-roses will now be peeping up
and making the garden bright. It is wonderful what a few
hours of bright sunshine does for the flowers even in January.
If the weather is not favourable for outdoor work, there is
CHILDREN’S GARDENS. 103

always plenty to be done in the potting-shed—getting soil
ready -for potting. Well-rooted geranium-cuttings may now be
put singly into “Tom Thumb”’ pots, where they will grow well
and bloom early.

Always keep flower-pots clean and free from slugs, which
are terribly destructive to young plants and ferns. Dig all spare
ground, and get ready for spring sowing.

Sweet-peas sown two inches deep will bloom early, but must
only be sown in the end of the month, if the weather is mild.
Look well after cuttings indoors. Protect delicate bulbs from
frost by sprinkling some loose soil or cocoa-fibre over them
to keep the frost from injuring the tender shoots. This is a
good month to make a rockery, which is an addition to every
garden, and looks well, covered with the many alpine and
creeping plants and ivies. Old stumps of trees, rubbish in the
shape of bricks, stones, and clinkers, all help. Place loose litter
round the roots of newly planted shrubs and delicate roses.

FEBRUARY.

This being the first month of spring, you may expect to see
some early flowers, especially should the weather prove mild
and sunny, as it often does, after the frosts and snows of
January.

Rake lightly the borders where you have planted various
early bulbs, this enables them to penetrate the soil, also protects
against frost.

Roll gravel walks and lawns, and keep your garden as tidy
as possible. Hoe and dig vacant beds, and so destroy grass
and weeds which always spring up where not wanted.

Should the weather be mild, you may sow hardy annuals,
104 AUNT MAY’S ANNUAL.

but only if the ground is quite free from frost and snow.
Proceed with your rockeries when the weather is favourable.

Old stumps of trees, ‘“clinkers,’ to be obtained from gas-
works, stones, and even broken crockery and bricks, are all
excellent for foundations for rock-work, and can be improved
on and covered over with ivy, ferns, or the many Alpine plants
now sold for the purpose.

Pinks and auriculas should be top-dressed (sprinkled with
a light layer of earth or litter). Look well to the lower leaves
of carnations, as they harbour tiny, black slugs, which you must
destroy, as they are very tiresome, and eat the young shoots.

In digging you are likely to find wire-worms, grubs, and
chrysalides, which always kill. In so doing, you will save your-
self from trouble when the caterpillar season comes on.

On sunny days have your greenhouse and frame-lights open.
Pick off all withered or mouldy leaves and shoots. Repot any
plants that may require moving.

Sow mignonette in boxes for early blooming, do not sow
too closely, as one seed chokes another.

Indoor hyacinths potted late should now be showing bloom.
Water, but only sparingly. More harm is done by too much,
than by too little water.

MARCH.

March is one of the busiest months for gardeners. The days
seem too short for all the work that has to be done. Sowing
of hardy annuals must be proceeded with, that you may have
early blooms. Sweet-peas should be sown in succession, as
they will keep on flowering till late autumn. Do not sow seeds
too closely. Cuttings of dahlias should now be made by cutting
CHILDREN’S GARDENS. 105

off the shoots close to the old stem, and planting in pots to
strike. Though the worst of the winter is over, the frosts at
night are frequently sharp, and are very destructive to many
plants that stood the intense cold of winter; carnations are
particularly liable to die just as they are making fresh shoots.
Rake over flower-beds, and keep the soil smooth and loose,
especially where autumn-sown seeds are. Protect seeds from
slugs and birds; by sprinkling the ground with soot, for the
destruction of slugs; and to frighten the birds, twigs with paper,
string, or scarlet wool attached, will be found very efficacious.
The rays of the sun at this season are often too powerful for
delicate plants, so care should be taken to shelter from the sun,
as well as from frosts, by means of awnings.

Gravel paths and lawns should be rolled and kept tidy.

If the weather is mild the grass may be mown. Plant, prune
and train roses. Do not be afraid to cut out the old and
cankered twigs. If you have not already done so, make your
chrysanthemum cuttings.

Admit plenty of fresh air into your greenhouse and frames.
Remove all decayed leaves. Geranium cuttings that have stood
in boxes all the winter may now be potted off; heliotropes, cal-
ceolarias, &c., may be treated in the same way. Water the
young plants as little as possible.

APRIL.

During this month sow seeds of all annuals you wish to
bloom in summer. Make second sowings of hardy annuals in
the places where they are to flower. It would be an excellent
plan for young gardeners to keep a memorandum book and jot
down notes of various work carried on; when seeds are sown,
106 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

when they first peep through the soil, and when they bloom.
Half-hardy annuals can be sown in the open air in sheltered
spots, but will require to be protected from frosts at night, as
well as from the too powerful heat of the sun during the day.

Pansies and auriculas are now at their best. They are
improved by being watered in the morning two or three times
a week with weak manure-water; the plants must be shaded
from the sun afterwards.

Examine carefully the leaves and round the roots, where slugs
love to hide. Geranium cuttings that have been in boxes all
winter should now be potted; this applies to what are called
“bedding out plants.”

Dahlias can be planted on the beds where they are to bloom.
Make a hole three or four inches deep, put the tubers in and
press the soil down firmly, leave a space of four feet between
the plants, and, if possible, arrange so that the colours blend
or contrast.

Keep walks and lawns tidy, free from weeds; roll frequently.
Lawns should be mown once a week. Prune rose-trees, tie up
and stake any that may require attention. Those planted lately
will require frequent watering. Bulbs in bloom must have sticks
to support them, as the hot sun causes them to droop, and
perhaps snap off.

May.

“April showers bring May flowers” is the old saying, and
you will find it true, for with good management, subject of
course to favourable weather, our gardens ought to be gay
with bloom from now till October. Snowdrops, crocus, and the
various other spring bulbs may be pulled up as soon as the
CHILDREN’S GARDENS. 107

leaves fade. Place the bulbs in the sun to dry by degrees,
each sort and colour separately if possible, so as to be ready
for autumn planting. Phloxes and perennial sisters should be
divided, this strengthens the plants and greatly improves the
bloom. Water frequently with liquid manure. Prick out in
pots annuals that have been sown in heat, plant out those that
are already strong and hardened, where they are to bloom.
Continue sowing sweet-peas, mignonette, nasturtiums and other
hardy annuals for a succession. When the weather is dry, do
not forget to water, either very early in the morning or after
the heat of the sun is over. Tulips, hyacinths and scillas, now
in full bloom, must be protected from the heat of the sun by
day, as well as from cold winds and occasional frosts at night.
Plant pansies for late flowering. Some evergreens transplanted
this month often do better than when moved earlier in the
season, but will require copious watering if the weather be dry.
Should the weather be mild, geraniums may now be bedded
out, after being hardened. Do not plant too close together, but
leave room to grow shrubby. Arrange that the colours blend
or else contrast. Lawns to be frequently mown, and both gravel
paths and lawns to be rolled and kept clean and tidy.

JUNE.

The “leafy month of June’ is now on us, and gardeners
will find plenty of employment. Finish planting out your bedding
plants, and, where one has gone off, replace it so that there may
be no unsightly gaps in the borders. All bulbs that have
finished flowering may be pulled up and harvested till planting
time in autumn. Zonal and tricolour geraniums, grown only for
their foliage should have all flower-buds nipped off as they appear.
108 AUNT MAYS ANNUAL.

Wall-flowers and pansies, that have finished blooming, should be
pulled up, unless extra fine ones that are being saved for seed.
Many hardy annuals may now be sown for late blooming, also
perennials, which if sown now, can be pricked out before winter,
and will bloom early next year.

Mark the various annuals as they bloom, and when you see
a blossom particularly fine and well coloured, tie a thread loosely
round the stem and save for seed; in this way you often get
good new varieties.

Dahlias will want staking, and plenty of watering to bring
them on.

Examine your rose-trees every morning. Kill all the cater-
pillars and grubs you can find. Snip off any worm-eaten or
defective bud, as they only spoil the appearance, as well as
weaken the tree. .

Carnations and pinks need to be staked and carefully
tied.

In dry weather, watering with liquid manure will do much
good. Destroy wire-worms with the potato-trap, which is an
unfailing remedy. Keep your paths and flower-beds well weeded.

JULY.

Sunflowers, holly-hocks, dahlias, and all tall plants will require
staking and tying before coming into bloom.

Ivy-geraniums, lobelias, and other creeping and dwarf plants
must be pegged down to keep them in place. Weed paths and
flower-beds. If the weather is hot and dry, water freely night
and morning, especially recently planted flowers. Take up
tulips and other bulbs not already lifted, and be careful not to
break off the seedling bulbs, which ought to be allowed to
CHILDREN’S GARDENS. 109

adhere to the parent bulb till quite dry and ripe enough to be
planted separately in early autumn.

Snip off withered leaves and flowers, except when the blooms
are being saved for seed. Peg down pinks and carnations so
as to produce early pipings for striking. This is a good month
to make cuttings of hardy roses. In fact with care, almost
anything will grow now, Geraniums, fuschias, etc., that have
bloomed indoors all winter, should now be cut down, the slips
struck, and old plants either thrown away or planted in the
flower-bed to make new shoots for another season. Some
gardeners replant now the bulbs taken up in May, but that is
only when space admits. When bedding out do not plant too
close, but allow space for growth. Arrange so that your colours
blend or contrast. Asters, zinnias, and ten-week stocks may
be pricked out, shade well from the sun for some days, and
water well.

Liquid manure is a great help to rose-trees, drench the
roots early in the morning several times a week while blooming.
Remember to destroy all grubs and caterpillars, and tidy up
daily. In spare corners begin to sow seeds of various peren-
nials, also some of the later annuals, for if we do not have
frosts, sweet-peas and mignonette often bloom till November.

AUGUST.

Most children are fond of pets; some like animals best, others
love flowers; both need care and attention. Some may imagine
that in August the season is too far advanced, and that nothing
can be done until next spring; but that is not the case, there
is always work to be done in a garden to prepare for future
crops and blooms.
110 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

If my little readers do not already possess a garden, they
must ask their parents to spare them a piece of ground, not in
too shady a place, and they must weed and dig this until it is
in good order. Wall-flowers, sweetwilliams, and several other
hardy perennials (flowers that spring up again year after year)
can now be sown, and will bloom next spring. Mignonette
can be sown this month in pots or boxes to bloom indoors in
the winter. Never sow the seeds too close together, as they
will crowd one another, and so cannot grow properly.

Hollyhocks, tall lilies, dahlias, and sunflowers must be tied to
tall sticks so that the wind cannot knock them down.

All withered leaves and blooms should be picked off as they
make the garden look untidy. Sweet-peas and other hardy
annuals should be allowed to run to seed, and so save children’s
' pockets another spring. Prick out pansies and forget-me-nots
in rows to flower in spring. Strawberry suckers if planted now
will grow well, and bear fruit next summer. If the weather is
dry and hot, water the plants every evening after the sun has
ceased to shine on the bed.

Go round the garden every day, and pick off all caterpillars,
insects, and slugs.

If the garden is infested with wire-worm, there is an old-
fashioned and simple trap, which will, if used, prove quite
successful. Cut a raw potato in slices, bury them just under
the surface of the ground; in a day or two dig up, and throw
them into boiling water, and the garden will soon be cleared
of these destructive creatures.

Little gardeners will require for their work a trowel, a small
fork, and a rake. A spade large enough to be of use would
be too heavy for their arms.
CHILDREN’S GARDENS. iI

SEPTEMBER.

September is the real harvest-month. Any seed-pods that
are ripe, gather and spread out to dry thoroughly. After a
few days, when you find the seed-vessels dry and easily opened,
shake out the seeds, of course every kind of seed by itself.
Small pill-boxes or bonbon-boxes are most useful for keeping
the store of seeds till spring comes round again. Keep your
seeds in a cool, dry place, make cuttings or slips of geraniums,
calceolarias, fuschias, etc., by cutting off the shoots just above
the second joint. Choose good, strong shoots, not soft and sappy,
fill a 5-inch flower-pot with good soil well mixed with silver
sand, make a small hole close to the side of the pot, slip in
your cutting, press the soil closely down, and so on till you
have seven or eight. Shallow, wooden boxes answer the purpose
quite as well, and are more convenient to pack in a green-
house. Give the cuttings very little water as they are apt to
turn mouldy.

Still continue weeding and keeping the garden tidy, cut
off withered leaves and shoots, tie up roses, dahlias, hollyhocks,
etc. Look well to the seeds sown last month, and, if well
up, prick them out where you wish them to bloom; this
applies to primroses, auriculas, forget-me-nots, wall-flowers,
snapdragons, etc., for spring and summer flowering. Chry-
santhemums should be potted in good soil and well watered,
so as to secure early blooming in-doors. Unless you wish
to save seed, cut down the stalks as soon as the bloom is
over, in any case one or two stems are sufficient, and then
always save those that bear the finest flowers. More give the
plants an untidy look and weaken the growth. If this month
proves wet, it will be favourable for transplanting shrubs,
112 AUNT MAT’S ANNUAL.

as they will have time to settle and root before the winter
frosts set in.

OCTOBER.

A hot-bed or cupboard by a fireplace would bring on the
bulbs more quickly, Everyone has their pet seedsman, but
Messrs. Carter, also Barr and Sugden, are famous for bulbs,
Messrs. Prothero and Morris, of 67, Cheapside, at their sales
have great bargains in the shape of bulbs of all sorts. But
while you are getting your spring bulbs in order, do not
neglect your flower-garden, which ought still to look brilliant
with late blooms. Pull up weeds. Tie up Chrysanthemums
ready for blooming. Look well to your seedlings, and, if
strong enough, plant out where you want them to bloom in
spring. Carnations, pinks, polyanthus and auriculas should now
be moved. Cut off withered flowers, and keep the beds as
neat as possible. Now is the time to lay in your store of
bulbs for winter and spring blooming. If you plant your
bulbs at once, you should have blooms by Christmas.

White Roman hyacinths are charming, for being small you
can plant six or eight bulbs in a pot; and by forcing in heat
can have a nice show for Christmas. White scillas are also
valuable. Other bulbs, hyacinths, daffodils, narcissus, tulips,
etc., may be potted at once, but it is best to manage so as to
have a succession, so keep some back till November, and plant
at intervals of a fortnight or so. Get ready some soil, leaf-
mould, garden soil and sand. Be sure there is plenty of
drainage in the bottom of the flower-pots, or if boxes, have
some holes bored. An easy way of forcing bulbs is to place
the flower-pots when ready planted, in a wooden box capable
CHILDREN’S GARDENS. 113

of holding six or eight pots, get some cocoa-fibre refuse,
price 4s. a bag, which will last two seasons, cover up pots to
three inches above bulbs, place in a warm cellar, coachhouse, or
any dry and rather dark place away from the frost; water a
little once a week, and in six weeks the leaves should begin to
show. When the shoot is an inch high gradually remove fibre,
and place tiny flower pot over bulb till it gets a natural colour,
when expose to the light by degrees.

NOVEMBER.

November is considered the gloomiest month in the year,
but we often have bright sunshiny days, and as long as frosts
hold off there can be a nice show of late blooms.

Chrysanthemums are now in perfection, likewise many hardy
annuals and perennials. If you wish to have chrysanthemums
for indoors, take up (with plenty of earth) a root of chrysanthe-
mum; put it in a large flower-pot, box or butter-tub; there
ought to be some good manure mixed with the soil; bring it
indoors, and it will keep on blooming for some weeks. Carna-
tion-pipings should be protected from the frost.

Any bulbs not already planted should be put in the ground at
once. Examine the bulbs potted last month, some should be
shooting by this time; be careful not to expose suddenly to
the light, else the bulb will be “blind,” that is have leaves
but not bloom, and so your trouble and bulb will be lost.

No need to use the watering-can out of doors, and not much
indoors. Still keep the beds tidy.

Cuttings should be looked to, and vacant spaces in the boxes
and pots filled up. Dahlias will still bloom if there is no frost.

Many people leave the tubers in the ground all the winter, merely
8
114 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

cutting down the stems at the first appearance of frost, and
placing a layer of cinders over the base of the stems; this
layer also answers for hollyhocks, fuschias and generally half-
hardy perennials. Christmas-roses should be attended to; lay
a light layer of loose stable manure over the roots, not heavy
enough to break down or rot the flower-shoots, only to protect
from frost, and nourish.

When moving plants into the greenhouse, place all of one
sort together, as different plants require different management.
Rose-cuttings should now be made in a piece of waste ground
where they will not be disturbed till spring.

Continue to pull up weeds from flower-beds and paths.
Prune roses and fruit-trees

DECEMBER.

Winter is fairly on us now; still, if frosts are not severe, we
can find work to do in the garden.

Pruning can be continued, stray shoots cut off, others nailed
or tied up in their proper places. Examine your seedlings,
carnations, auriculas, etc., scatter a little fresh earth over them
to protect them from frost, and when a thaw comes, press the
soil firmly round the roots. Kill all the slugs you can, they
are most troublesome, especially in a wet season, and do a
great deal of damage to young shoots. Dig up any spare
ground, after having spread a good layer of rotten manure
over it. A wet, heavy soil is improved by a dressing of cinder-
ashes and road-sand.

Continue to sweep up dead leaves, by this time you ought
to have a good heap. Some people dig a deep pit for their
leaves, and put ashes from burnt weeds and manure altogether.
CHILDREN’S GARDENS. 115

Soot is very useful as manure, but must be used sparingly.
If the frost is very severe, a thin layer of stable manure will
prove a great protection to the roots of roses and carnations,
but as it rather harbours slugs you must be careful.

Protect Christmas-roses from frost and slugs. If the buds
are forward and any prospect of hard frost, pick the blooms
and put them in a moderately warm room. The flowers will
open, and be whiter and more perfect than if left out in the
cold. The same plan can be followed with out-door chrysan-
themums, so it is possible to have flowers indoors even if one
does not possess a hot-house.

The early bulbs, potted and forced in October, should now
be showing for bloom. Do not use the watering-pot too freely.
Things are so apt to “damp off,” and get mouldy.

Pick off all dead leaves and keep the flower-pots and shelves
of the greenhouse clean and tidy. Admit plenty of fresh air,
but do not chill. Examine all cuttings, and pull up any that
have rotted, as they are apt to infect the others.
XI.

WHAT CAN WE MAKE?

JAPANESE CURTAINS.

4) HE educational advantages of this work are many ; it



| teaches carefulness, numeration, colour and design.
Carefulness, in pushing the string through the bamboo ;
numeration, in getting the right number on each string ;
colour, in choosing the coloured reeds and beads; and design,
whether the alternate lines should be the same colour, or two
and two, or two and three, etc. The materials required for
this work are:

1. Bamboos or reeds, 2/9 per 100.

2. Beads, 10d. per 500.

3. A ball of string, 6d.

4. A bar of wood for each curtain.

The bamboos are supplied in bundles of 1000 tubes, and can
be had in white, red, purple, green, yellow, etc. They are each
three and a half inches long, and are hollow, so that the string
easily slips through. The round beads are the best for the nur-
sery, and can also be had in many colours. A little four-year-
old is very busy at present making a short curtain for the
WHAT CAN WE MAKE? 117

studio window, of cut green and yellow reeds, and bright yellow
beads, and the effect is charming.

The bar of wood can be made by any local joiner for a few
pence. This must be three-quarters of an inch broad and thick ;
the length must vary according to the width of your windows.
Holes must be bored through at regular intervals of half an
inch, one from the other, and he had better stain it brown or
black before the children begin to work. The following lengths
are those we have found to be most useful; but each mother
can measure and decide for herself whether the curtains must
be longer or shorter.







1. Cut the string into lengths of forty inches. ;

2. Thread a bead on to each piece of string, hold the bead
in the middle, and tie once. This prevents the little fingers
pulling the string out of its hole. To vary this, you can again
place a bead on each side of the tied one.
118 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

3. Push one end of the string through the first hole in the
rod, and the other through the second hole, leaving the bead or
beads on the top.

4. Thread four beads on the first string. This makes an
effective border.

5. Thread one reed, one bead, one reed and so on, until
four reeds are on. Then put a bead on and tie. The first
row might be green.

6. Work the second row in the same way, substituting
yellow reeds for the green ones.

7. Take another piece of string and thread one end through
the third hole, and so on.

A very effective and simple pattern can be worked in the
following way:

After the string has been threaded through the two first
holes put—

Ist row; I bead, 1 green reed, bead; 1 yellow reed, bead ;
I green reed, bead; 1 yellow reed.





green, yellow.
WHAT CAN WE MAKE? 11g

3rd row; 3 beads, &c.

4th row; 4 beads, &c.

sth row; 5 beads, &c.

6th row; 4 beads, &c.

7th row; 3 beads, and so on, until the child comes again to
one bead, when she again begins the next row with two.

Materials can be obtained from Messrs. Newmann & Co.,
84 Newman Street, London.

Door Mats.

This work can be done by children from seven upwards.

The materials required for a door-mat are—

I, yard of canvas (2s. per yard), a yard wide.

2. 1§ Ib. of thrums, or the leavings of carpets, which is
sold at the rate of 6 lbs. for 5s.

3. 8 lengths of wood, 7 or 8 inches long and ! inch wide.
The lid of a cigar-box furnishes the best wood.

4. A crochet-hook.

5. Pair of scissors.

Let the pupil wind each piece of wool separately round the
wood, and cut through onze end, leaving each piece of wool
2 inches long. Place the canvas on a table and draw the
chief lines of the pattern in pen and ink, or with a brush and
sepia. Choose the colour to begin with; put the two ends of
the piece of wool together; put the crochet-hook through the
first hole, draw the wool through, loop it, and pull it to make
it quite firm. The wool is put in and drawn tight, exactly as the
fringe used to be put on to antimacassars. It is the best plan
to begin with the border, and then decide what pattern will look
best in the centre, and last of all, to choose the background.
Any one colour can be bought at the rate of 1/9 per lb. Dark
blue is effective, also a very dark terra cotta.

1
2
I
120 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

Cross-stitch patterns can easily be copied, but after one or
two attempts the children find a keen pleasure in inventing their
own designs.

When the mat is finished, brush the back with glue and a
little flour added, which stiffens the rug and prevents any wool
getting loose. Then seam on a strong piece of canvas, and a
strong, beautiful mat is produced, which will last for years.

For the benefit of some teachers who may find a difficulty
in starting, simple outlines of three good Persian designs are given.


XII.

LITTLE COOKS.

DOLLIE’S CHEESE CAKES.

NE oz. cooked potatoes; } oz, butter; 1 oz. sugar; § oz.
currants; egg; 4 of a lemon.
Put the potatoes into a basin, and beat them well



with a fork, then add the butter, melted, currants
(which must be washed first), salt and a small piece of beaten egg.
When this is well mixed, add 4 drops of lemon juice. Line
little tart-tins with pastry, put a little of the mixture into each,
and bake quickly.
N.B. — Be very careful to clean the currants well and get all
the stalks and grit from them.

ARTHUR’S PASTRY.

2 ozs. flour; 1 oz. lard; a very little baking powder; a very
little salt.

Mix the lard, baking powder and salt together, rub in the lard
with the tips of your fingers. Mix it to a stiff paste with cold
water. Roll it out twice on a floured board, and the pastry
is ready to put in the tins,
122 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

When baking pastry, little cooks must remember three things.
(ist) To keep it as cool as possible; have the water quite cold,
and rub the lard in with the tips of your fingers, not the palm
of your hands. (2nd) Not to touch it more than you can help,
but make it up quickly. (3rd) Bake it in a quick oven,

TOPSEY’S KEDJERIE,

2 ozs. cooked fish; 1 oz. Patna rice; } oz. butter; 1 hard
boiled egg; 4 of an egg, salt, pepper, etc.; about 4 grains
cayenne.

Throw the rice into boiling salted water, and let it boil with
the pan lid off for 12 minutes, then strain it through a sieve
and dry it in front of the fire. Take all skin and bone from
the fish, and break it up with a fork; melt the butter in a
pan, and add the fish, rice, and half the hard-boiled white of
an egg, chopped finely; season, and stir till quite hot, then
add the quarter of a beaten raw egg. Turn it out on to the hot
dish, pass the other half of the hard boiled egg through a sieve
on to the top of it and decorate with small pieces of parsley.

MARJORIE’S RASPBERRY SANDWICH.

I egg; If oz. castor sugar; I$ oz. flour; 2 oz, butter;
; teaspoonful of baking powder. Break the egg into a basin,
and whisk it a little, add the sugar, and whisk till quite thick,
then add the butter, melted, but zo¢ ot. Stir in the flour and
baking powder very lightly, and turn it at once into two well-
greased sandwich tins, and bake them at once in a quick oven.
Turn them out and spread a layer of jam on one, and put the

other on the top, Sift sugar over, and they are ready for use.

SHORTBREAD.

Put into a basin half a quarter of a lb. of flour; 1 oz. castor
LITTLE COOKS. 123

sugar, and I oz, butter. Mix it well together with a little milk
until it forms a paste. Turn it on to the floured board, knead
it well, roll out about 4 inch thick, and cut it in shapes, put
it on to a buttered tin, and bake a light brown.

DOLLY’S PUDDING.

Put 4 tablespoonfuls of milk, 1 tablespoonful of sugar, and
a pinch of cinnamon into a basin, and stir it well. Cut two or
three slices of bread (? inch thick) into strips about an inch
wide. Put them on a dish, and pour the liquid over them, and
let them soak for 5 minutes. Prepare hot dripping or lard in
the frying-pan, and place the strips of bread in it, and fry until
they get brown. Take them out when done, and place the next
in, until all are ready for serving. It will take about 5 minutes
to fry all. Serve them with stewed fruit or jam.

STEWED BEEF AND MACCARONI.

A little dripping; 2 ozs. beefsteak; I oz. maccaroni. Cut the
beef into thin strips, dip them in flour seasoned with salt and
pepper, roll each one up separately, and tie them with string.

Make a little dripping hot in a frying-pan, and fry them
quickly in it, then place them in a stew-pan, add enough ot
gravy or water to cover them, and let them stew gently for
one hour.

Break the maccaroni into small pieces, throw it into boiling
salted water, and let it boil for 45 minutes, then strain it, and
arrange it round a dish, and sprinkle with finely chopped parsley.

Remove the string from the beef, and place it in the centre,
taste the gravy, and add more salt if necessary, and pour it
over the dish.
124 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

SCONES.

2 ozs. flour; 4 oz. butter; a very small pinch of cream of
tartar; ditto carbonate of soda; ditto salt; buttermilk, or milk
and water. Add the tartar, soda and salt, and the flour, rub in
the butter, then mix to a stiff paste with milk and water, or
buttermilk.

Roll it on a floured board, and cut it in four with a knife,
and bake at once in a quick oven for about 15 minutes.

HOLIDAY PUDDING.

Crusts of bread; I oz. raisins; 1 oz. brown sugar; I egg;
little milk. 1. Put the crusts into cold water to soak. 2. When
soft, squeeze out into basin. 3. Beat up with spoon. 4. Add
raisins. 5. Add sugar, egg, and little milk, and mix. 6, Grease
basin or mould. 7. Pour in mixture, and steam for I to 1} hour,

HoT Pot.

Meat; Potatoes. 3. Cut meat up. 2. Put at bottom of
pie-dish. 3. Sprinkle a little salt over. 4. Peel potatoes. 5. Cut
them in quarters. 6. Place them on the meat. 7. Half fill the
dish with water. Bake in an oven 2 hours.

N.B.—The above recipes are given together, because they
both take a long time to cook after being prepared, and the
little cook can get them ready at the same time. The Hot
Pot must be prepared first, and then the Holiday Pudding
could be taken.

CLINTON’S SPONGE PUDDING.

I egg; weight of the egg in flour; weight of the egg in
butter. Stir the flour and butter together, and add the yolk
of the egg and mix well. Beat the white of the egg into a
LITTLE COOKS. 125

foam; pour it over the paste, and again stir. When stiff, put
very little into each tin, or tin-cup, and bake quickly.

LEMON DUMPLING.

Grate 2 ozs. of bread crumbs very finely, add 2 ozs. of suet
chopped fine, 2 ozs. of moist sugar, the juice and rind of half
a lemon, and one well-beaten egg. Beat all well together, put
into large doll’s teacups, tie over little cloths, and boil for
twenty minutes.

MOTHER’S SANDWICHES.

Boil two eggs hard, take out the yolks and put them into a
cup, and mix thoroughly with them a teaspoonful of anchovy
sauce, a small piece of butter, pepper and salt; chop the white
up small, spread the yolks thickly between two slices of thin
bread and butter, sprinkle the white over it with finely chopped
lettuce and cut into neat sandwiches.

A SMALL RASPBERRY CREAM.

A pint of cream, $ oz. of isinglass, a large tablespoonful of
raspberry jam. Put half the cream into a bowl, and put the
isinglass (just covered with milk) in a little pot in a warm place
to melt; then put the jam into a sieve, hold it over the bowl
and rub it through with a spoon, mixing in the remainder of
cream to make the raspberry juice run through; then well whisk
the cream and juice, colour a little more, ifneeded, with a drop
of cochineal, mix in the melted isinglass cwzthout beating, and pour

into a wet mould.

SOUP.

Half a-cupful long rice; broth from beef; stick of celery;
parsley root. 1. Pour cold water over long rice. 2. Put on
126 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

fire. 3. Boil, strain, and replace in pan. 4. Take broth, strain
it into the pan, put the lid on, and keep it on a slow fire.
5. Slice celery very small. 6, Wash in cold water, strain; add
to soup. Do same with parsley root.

DOROTHY’S RISSOLES.

2 ozs. scraps of cold meat; 1 tablespoon chopped suet;
1 tablespoon bread crumbs; § tablespoon chopped parsley ;
$ egg; bread crumbs; salt and pepper; 5 gill of stock; j 02.
of flour; dripping for frying. Put about a j lb. of dripping
into a pan, and put it on the fire to heat. Chop up the scraps
of cold meat as finely as possible. Take the suet, cut away
the skin and chop it. Grate some crumbs of bread on to a
piece of paper, until you get one tablespoonful and a half.
Chop parsley on a board. Mix meat, suet, and bread crumbs
in a basin, then add ! oz. flour and § teaspoonful of salt,
then } gill of stock, and mix all lightly.

Take a board, flour it, and turn the mixture on to it—also
flour the hands. Roll, mix, turn into little balls, and sprinkle
flour over them, Break an egg and beat it lightly with a knife.
Roll the meat balls into the egg and cover them well. Now
roll them in the bread crumbs, but not too much. Put the rissoles
into a wire basket, and do not let them touch each other. When
the fat in the pan is quite hot and smoking, put the frying-pan
into it and fry the balls light brown. Put a piece of paper on
a plate and turn the rissoles on to it to drain off the grease.
Time, half an hour.

BaBy’s MILK BISCUITS

Half gill of milk; half oz. of butter; quarter lb. of flour; half tea-
spoonful baking powder. Put the milk into a saucepan, add the
butter and put it on the fire to warm. Put the flour into a
LITTLE COOKS. 127

basin with the baking powder. When the milk is hot, pour it
into the flour and stir it into a thick smooth paste. Roll it with
a rolling-pin into as thin a sheet as possible.

Flour a tin or a glass, and by pressing it on the paste, cut
out as many cakes as possible, grease a tin with butter and
place the biscuits on it. Put the tin into the oven and bake
for twenty minutes. Turn them off the tin and let them cool.
Time, half hour. This will make about a dozen biscuits.

AS ROLLS.

fb Ww 4

LZ 2 ozs. pork; sage, salt and pepper; I teaspoonful of gravy;
flour. Take 2 ozs. pork and chop it very finely; add to it a
little sage, salt and pepper; well mix it, and add 1 teaspoonful
of gravy.

Make some pastry, roll it into thin squares, put some meat
on each, and wet the edges with water. Roll the paste over,
pinch the edges and ends securely, brush over with a little
milk, and bake in a quick oven for 20 minutes. C-

FRIED COD.

I quarter lb. cod; salt; piece of lemon; egg; bread crumbs ;
soft paper; dripping.

Take } Ib. cod, and cut it-into pieces the size of a walnut,
rub them with salt, and squeeze a little lemon juice over them ;
then brush them well over with beaten egg, roll them in bread-
crumbs, and fry in hot dripping.

When you take them out of the dripping, put them on soft
paper to absorb the fat; then remove them to the dish you

are going to serve them’on. Mind the fat is perfectly still, and
a blue smoke rising from it before you put the fish in.
128 AUNT MAIT’S ANNUAL.

PARSLEY SAUCE.

1 oz. butter; 4 oz. flour; 4 teaspoonful parsley; a little salt ;
2 tablespoonfuls water.

Boil the water in a pan. Mix the flour and butter ina basin ;
by degrees add the water, making it quite smooth; add the

parsley and salt, and stir all together.

MACAROONS.

2 ounces blanched almonds; white of one egg; little orange-
flower water; powdered sugar; a few almonds. Pound 2 ounces
blanched almonds in a mortar; pass it through a wire sieve ;
well mix it with the white of egg, and a little orange-flower
water; beat it well, and lay it in small pieces on white paper ;
dredge them well with powdered sugar; split an almond in quar-
ters, and lay one on the top of each cake; then bake in a
cool oven.

TOMATO SOUP.

3 pint of stock; 1 small onion ; t ounce butter; 1 tomato ;
salt and pepper. Slice and fry the onion and the butter; put
it into a saucepan, and add the tomato and a little of the stock ;
stir it well, and let it cook gently for one hour; then strain it ;
bring the stock to a boil; add the tomato mixture to it, and
the soup is ready.

PAUL CAKES.

2 ozs. butter; 2 ozs. sugar; I egg; lemon juice; § Ib. flour ;
greased paper. 1. Whisk the butter to a cream. 2. Add the
sugar, egg, few drops of lemon juice, and flour, and stir well.
3. Roll with the pin. 4. Cut into rounds or patterns. 5. Put
on the greased paper. 6. Bake in quick oven.
LITTLE COOKS. 129

GINGERBREAD SNAPS.

1 Ib. treacle; 2 ozs. sugar; } lb. flour; 2 ozs. butter; 4
tablespoonful ginger; lemon essence. 1. Put treacle and sugar
into a pan, and let it just boil. 2. Rub butter into flour.
3. Put into pan with ginger and little lemon juice, or essence.

4. Drop on tins, and in moderate oven.

DOLLY’S CABBAGE.

Half a cabbage; salt; a little fat; {spoonful flour; 1 onion; 1
tablespoonful broth. 1. Boil water in a little pan. 2. Put in
a pinch of salt. 3. Put in cabbage and boil it till it is quite
soft. 4. Place cabbage in a sieve and run cold water over
it. §. Press hard to get all the water out. 6. Chop into
small pieces. 7, Put the fat into a pan with flour and onion.
8. When melted, put in cabbage and stir a little, and pour
on broth to moisten it. 9. Put in salt and pepper and keep
it on the fire for about fifteen minutes.

HILDA’s CAKES.

Handful of lump sugar; 4 lb. flour; } lb. sugar; { lb.
butter (without salt); tablespoonful cold water; pinch of salt ;
6 almonds; egg; cinnamon. 1. Pound the sugar very well.
2. Pour boiling water over almonds. 3. Peel and chop them.
4. Put flour, and sugar, and salt into a basin. 5. Rub butter
into it. 6. Put in cold water and stir to a paste. 7. Roll
paste on board, and cut into shapes, or round cakes. 8. Grease
a tin and put the cakes on it. 9. Paint each cake with egg.
10. Put almonds mixed with coarse sugar and cinnamon in
the middle of each cake. 11. Bake in oven fifteen minutes.
XIII.

NURSERY MODELLING.

all is most important in the teaching of modelling to
little children, that they should each have the model
they are copying before them. The pride of possession
leads them to carefully study the points of their own
particular model, and as no two are ever alike, leads.of course
to individuality in treatment and finish. I have often seen when
visiting large classes, thirty oranges turned out, all as alike as
a row of pins, and all carefully mottled with a pen point, to
resemble the rough skin of the orange. A very nice play
for an hour, but the children know no more about form, nor
using their eyes rightly, at the end of the hour, than they did at
the beginning. A good modeller is always observing and com-
paring, and this is the power we must help the children to
cultivate. We will suppose a class of six children, and for the
first lesson we will taken an apple. In a previous paper I
recommended terra-cotta clay to parents, but I would now
advise modelling paste for nursery use. It requires no wetting,
is perfectly clean, and hardens sufficiently to do away with
baking. It costs Is. 6d. per lb., and can be obtained from


NURSERY MODELLING. 131

Alberti, 1, Oxford Road, Manchester, either in grey (a lovely
shade) or terra cotta. It is rather more costly than the clay,
but saves the nursery furniture and the children’s clothes.

Owing to the increased cost, I would advise the teacher to
take six ‘stnall apples. Place the pupils round the table, and
sit at the head. Each child and the teacher will have a board
before her, a lump of paste or clay, an apple on the table,
and a piece of twig one inch long. Make the children first
tell you if the model is round like a ball, or like the earth, if
the skin is smooth or rough, if it is quite even all round, etc.
Then take a piece of paste and put it on the board, and add
to it little by little more paste, always pressing it together with
the thumb. A child must be all thumb in modelling. When
it appears about the size of the model, take it in the palm of
the left hand and roll it round and round between the two hands,
slightly flatten at both ends, and make an indentation by ‘pressing
the little finger in.

Place the apple on the board, take up a little paste the
size of a doll’s button, roll it round in the hand, and place it
in the hollow, then poke it with the twig, to look like the
rough little tip seen on the model.

Take the apple again into the left hand, and turn it up.
After this the clay ‘must not be placed again on the board, as
the pressure would flatten the beautiful round end.

Make another hollow with the little finger, and put the twig
in it. Clay stalks are disappointing and always disappear.

As the children have noticed that the models are all smooth,
if you are working in paste, carefully go over the surface with
' the right thumb, carefully noticing any special marks seen on
their individual model. The apple is then finished, and the
children have had a good lesson in seeing.
132 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

A pear can be taken in the same way, and we can take
other forms and textures mentioned in the following lessons.

For the benefit of the busy mother I will give a summary
and drawing of the above, which may be of use during the lesson :

4

5 6

9°OoOa

Place board, clay, model and little twig before each child.
Press small pieces together with the thumb.
Take in palm of left hand.

Roll.

Make hollow with little finger.

Make tip and put it in.

Work it with twig.

Take in left hand.

Make hollow on other side.

Put in twig.

Mark little differences.

12. Smooth.



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= O

AN EMPTY REEL.

Take a small piece of clay or modelling paste (the term clay
will be used to denote both) between the finger and thumb, and
press it on to the board with the thumb. Then take a second
piece and press it on to the first, and so on, until there is a
lump as big as the stem of the reel. Take it up, and roll it
between the palms of the hands until it looks like a firm, smooth
cylinder or ruler. Place it on the board, and with the tool cut
it sharply down both ends, leaving it the length of the centre
of the reel. Proceed to take a piece of clay about the size of
NURSERY MODELLING. 133

a cherry, roll it round and round between the palms to form a
ball. Place it on the board, and flatten with the thumb, until it
is } inch thick. Take it up between the finger and thumb of
the left hand, and press the edge inwards, leaving the under-
neath part the same size: z.¢., make it the shape of the round
top part of the reel. When this is finished, put it down and
make a second one for the other end. Wet the end well with
the damp sponge, and place it on the stem, or centre part; turn
it up.and add the other end. Take a slate penciland carefully
make a hole in the exact centre of the two ends. I do not
advise you to push the pencil through, as the pressure would

probably drag the reel out of shape,

6





Advil



Prepare stem by putting small pieces of clay together.
Roll between palms into cylinder.

Cut both ends with knife.

Take clay about size of a cherry.

Roll into ball form.

Place on board and flatten with thumb.
Form edge by pressure of thumb and finger.
Make a second.

Wet ends with sponge.

Press carefully on stem.

Make hole at each end.

=
BPO FO G0 OV Oe Pe a's Neb

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134 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

FLOWER-POT AND SAUCER.

Proceed, as with the apple, to put down little piece on little
piece of clay, and press together with the thumb, until a ball
the size of a very large orange is formed; roll between the
palms of the hands, until it is quite round; hold it in both
hands, and place the two thumbs on the top, and gently press
with both, to make an indentation on the surface in the centre.
Turn the ball round, pressing the whole time with the thumbs,
until a deep cavity is made, and walls are half an inch to three-
quarters inch thick. Hold the cup which is now formed, in the
left hand, and with the right thumb press the edge here and
there slightly outwards, so that curves are produced which give
a beautiful outline to the flower-pot, Some children like three
curves, others prefer five or six. Put the little finger through
the bottom to make a hole, wet the right thumb with the
sponge, and smooth the sides, and the model is finished.

For the plate, roll a sausage between the palms, put it on
the board, and flatten with the thumb, until it is half an inch
thick, and even. As children cannot at once draw a perfect
round, let them cut it out by pressing a pot, such as a shrimp
pot, over the clay; take away the clay outside the plate, place



the thumbs near the edge, on the top of the clay, and with
the first finger raise the edge, and press it against the thumbs,
do this evenly all round, so that the edge turns up. Have the
NURSERY MODELLING. 135

flower-pot and plate baked in a brick kiln, or a very hot oven,
and then soil can be put in, and the child can sow his own
seeds, and watch the plant grow.
Materials required for the above lesson ;—Boards, clay, wet
sponges, a shrimp pot.
1. Form a ball gradually.
Roll between palms.
Hold in both hands, place thumbs on top.
Press thumbs to form hole.
Hold in left hand.
Form scallops with right thumb.
7. Make hole with little finger.
For the plate :—
1. Make a roll.
2. Press flat on board half inch thick.
3. Cut out with the pot.

ARE YS

4. Raise edge.
A STONE.

We will take a stone that has been broken for road making,
as it introduces a new feature into modelling, viz., straight,
clean-cut sides.

Each stone will vary in shape, but the treatment will be
the same. After carefully copying the form with the thumb,
so that a generally right outline is obtained, take the tool and
cut off the edges where the stone has been broken, and with
the thumb and first finger, slightly press the edges, so as to
accentuate the sharpness; any little cross lines must be put
in with the tool. If the stone is a smooth one, wet the thumb
and stroke it as with the former models. If it has a rough
surface, squeeze the water out of the sponge, and then dab
136 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

the model with it, bringing it off quickly and straight, so as
to slightly raise the surface of the clay.

Mount up clay to general form of the stone.

Cut off sharp sides.

Accentuate edges.

Mark lines.

Smooth, or raise surface with slightly damped sponge.

wR WwW DN

A TOMATO.

For the lesson the teacher will require boards, clay, sponges,
tools and tomatoes.

Roll a piece of clay into a ball between the palms of the
hands, and slightly press two ends together. Roll a small piece
into a thin roll, cut it the length of one of the raised parts of
the tomato, make it thinner at both ends, wet with the sponge,
and place on the flattened ball. Put as many on as there are
rolls on the model, and then carefully work each to the exact
shape of the one on the original tomato, running them together
on the flattened surface where required. The ball must be very
small, otherwise, when all the rolls are placed on it, it is much
larger than it ought to be.



Roll a piece of clay into ball.

Press two ends together.

Roll piece of clay into thin roll.

Cut it the length of one of raised parts.

I.
2.
3:
4.
NURSERY MODELLING. 137

Make it thin at both ends and bend.
Make the other rolls.

Wet them with damp sponge.

Place on ball,

Pwr an

PEA-POD.

You will require for the lesson, say to five pupils:
5 boards.
5 wet sponges.
5 small pieces of clay.
5 peas or beans.
5 tools.

The latter can be obtained at Newman’s, in Newman Street,
and one tool, which he knows I recommend, and which is quite
sufficient for nearly all clay models a child can make, can be
obtained for 4d.

When the pupils are seated, take a piece of clay and roll
it into a thin sausage between the palms of the hands. It
must not go between the fingers, as they would leave their
impression on the clay. Lay the roll on the board, and flatten
with the right thumb. Take the tool, and with the knife end
cut it the size and shape of the model. Take it up, place the
thumb in the centre and carefully turn up the edges against

5 8
2
Minti enh ein = SAS.

the thumb. Notice where the depressions occur that contain the
peas, and carefully make them with the end of the thumb.
Take small pieces of clay, roll them into balls, flatten slightly,
and model them to resemble the peas, wet them with the damp
138 AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

sponge and put them in their places. Noting carefully the
difference in size, smooth the outside with a wet finger, and the
pea is finished.

1. Take piece of clay.

2. Roll between palms.

3. Lay roll on board.

4. Flatten with thumbs.

5. Place model by clay and cut shape.

6. Take it up, place thumb in centre, and turn up edges
against the thumbs.

7. Mark depressions.

8. Take small pieces of clay and roll to make peas.

g. Wet peas with sponge and put them in their places.

10. Smooth the outside with a wet thumb.

A SKATE.

If paste it used, this must be made much smaller than the
model; but the exact size can be copied in clay. It is always
much better for the children to make their copies as large as
the models: it enables them to get true proportions. The skate
leads up to a lesson to be given on a shoe.

Place the skate, without straps, on the flat side, with the sole
upwards. Lay small pieces of clay one on the top of the other,
striving to keep the general outline of the skate, until the length
and height is obtained. Then cut with the tool the outline, and
proceed to model the roundness and form of the wooden part
with the thumb. Cut the slits at the toes and heels with the
tool sharply. Roll clay between the palm. Lay this roll on the
board, and press flat, leaving it $ inch thick. Cut the edges
with the tool, rounding the toe part. Cuta slight incision in the
wooden part of the skate down the line where the steel goes.
NURSERY MODELLING. 139

Take a small piece of clay, roll it into a ball form; wet it, and
put it near the heel where the screw ought to be. Wet the
edge of the steel part and the incision with a damp sponge, and
place the steel in its place, carefully pressing it to make it firm.
Finish by smoothing it with a wet thumb.



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AO OOM ON OR RS EO

1

Lay small pieces of clay to form outline of skate.
Add clay for height.

Model with thumbs.

Cut slits with tool.

Roll clay into cylinder form.

Press it flat on board.

Cut edges with tool, rounding toe end.
Cut incision down centre of skate.

Roll small piece of clay for screw head,
Wet it, and place it on skate.
Wet edge of steel part and incision.
Press the former into its place.

Finish with wet thumb.
XIV.

WHAT SHALL WE PLAY?

THE FOX AND THE HOLE.

HIS is a very old game, and was played by little



i boys and girls 1800 years ago. They called it a very
long name, “Askoliasmiss”; because one player had
to hop on one leg all the time. In Flanders it was
called “Hunke-pinken” and in Germany “Fox don’t bite’.

The fox must have a hole, or den made for himself, and the
other players must not be more than 10 or 12 feet away from
it when the game begins. Each child must have a handkerchief
with one knot on it in the right hand. The fox goes into his
den, and one child advances towards it and says: “We're walk-
ing near the fox’s house, but fox is quiet as a mouse,”
whereupon the fox springs out; but is only allowed to hop on one
leg. He hops after the children and if he succeeds in touching
one with the end of his handkerchief all the others rush forward,
and help to carry him to the fox’s den, when he becomes a fox
in his turn. If the fox once goes on two legs, the others can
run after him with their handkerchiefs, and carry him back to
the cave. If an idle fox will not come out, the others call-out
WHAT SHALL WE PLAY? 141

“Fox come out of the den! One, two, three,’ and if he does
not instantly begin to hop he is driven out.

— HIDING.

Choose a small object; such as a pair of scissors, small pot,
pencil, etc., and show it to all the other children, who then leave
the room. Place the object so that it can be seen from most
parts of the room, and do not cover it in any way. Ask the
children to enter, and tell them to sit down, but not to speak
when they see it, and so on until all are seated, when the first
finder is allowed to hide the next time, and the game begins again.

HIDING EYES.

Place 12 different colours in a row, and let a child look at
them a few moments, to study the colours and the order they
come in. Make the child turn round, and cover its eyes: remove
one colour and ask the child to turn again, and find what you
have taken away.

Children of 4 and 5 enjoy this game.

THE RHYME GAME

This is a suggestive game for children to play, when tired
of running about, or of more active play. The players sit in a
circle round a table, and the first child thinks of a name, and
turns to his right-hand neighbour, who must instantly find a
rhyme for it. For instance—

I’m called Johnnie Spink,
The neighbour might continue—

Who never learnt to think.
Or,
142 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

I’m called Ada White,
Answer: Who’ sits up all the night.
I am called Maria Hill,
Answer: And always wear a pretty frill.
I am called Elfrida Low,
Answer: Who very early learned to sew.
Children will rapidly multiply names and rhymes.

BALL GAME.

The children must stand in a row, and the biggest child
stands before them holding the ball. Whenever the thrower
fails to catch the ball, as it returns to him, he must go to the
lowest end of the row and the child at the top must take
his place.

1. Throw the ball to the first child, who must catch it
with doth hands. He returns it, and it is then thrown to the
second, and so on.

2. Throw and catch with the vzghz hand.

3. Throw and catch with the ft hand.

4. Throw with the right hand and catch with the left.

5. Throw with the left and catch with the right.

Until a child can do each of the above exercises, with only
one mistake, he or she is called an apprentice.

The next exercises are for journeymen.

1. Throw over the right shoulder (the thrower stands with
his back to the row), catch with the rzght hand.

2. Throw over the /eft shoulder, catch with the ft hand.

3. Throw again over the vzght shoulder, catch with the
left hand.

4. Throw over the /eft shoulder, catch with the vZ@gA¢ hand.
When any child can do these exercises twelve times, with
WHAT SHALL WE PLAY? 143

only one fault, he is called a master, and must then practise
the following games :—

' 1, Throw the ball five times against a wall, with a flat

right hand, and catch it the sixth time.

2. Throw two balls six times, one after the other, with the
right hand, catching them with the left and passing them on
to the right hand.

3. Throw a ball with each hand against a wall, and catch
both in the same.

TALE-TELLING.

Mother or father, or one of the older children begin an original
_tale, which he or she relates for four minutes. The narrator
stops suddenly in the middle of a sentence, and the next child
on the right-hand side continues for the same length of time,
and again stops with the tale unfinished, when the next takes
up the thread, and so on.

CARD-THROWING. .

Four, six or eight children can play this game. Divide into
two parties, and seat then alternately in a circle; place a hat,
basket or box, equi-distant from all, on the floor.

Take two packs of cards, and give each child six cards. Each
child in turn throws one card into the hat, etc., and each side
claims those of his pack found in the hat, and adds up the number.

2nd round, throw in 2 at a time.
3rd round, throw in 3 at a time.
4th round, throw in 4 at a time.
5th round, throw in 5 at a time.
6th round, throw in 6 at a time.
Then total all together.
144. AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

BREATHING DRILL.

Ist day.—Children stand erect, heels together, hands on hips,
draw a deep, long breath through the mouth. Close the mouth
tight, and let it out very slowly through the nostrils. Practise
this for five minutes.

2nd day.—Stand erect, heels together, hands on hips. Draw
a deep breath through the nostrils, open the mouth and let it
slowly out.

It is advisable, in cases where this exercise is difficult, to let
each child hold a hand-glass in the right hand, and when the
breath is being exhaled, hold the glass side up over the lips,
and under the nose, and quickly draw it away when the breath
is exhausted, to see if any moisture remains on the glass.

3rd day.—Heels together, hands on hips, slightly bend the
body forward, draw the breath up the nostrils, open the mouth,
and let out slowly—saying Ah-h-h the whole time, in a chest
tone. Never take more than one exercise at the same time.

JAPANESE BALL DRILL.

Madame Tel Sono showed the following Drill to some little
children, where she last stayed in England.

I. (1) Stand with feet together, left hand on hip. (2) Strike
the ball on the floor with palm of right hand. (3) When the
ball ascends let it alight on the back of right hand and instantly
hit it down again with the palm. To be played ten times
without a mistake.

Il. Hit the ball on the floor with palm of right hand nine
times. Hit the tenth ball harder, turn round on one’s toes,
and again hit it down the eleventh time. Turn round every
tenth ball, and always count aloud.

III. Kneel on the ground and hit the ball down, first with
WHAT SHALL WE PLAY? 145

the right and then the left hand. Do this a hundred times
without a mistake, remaining quite stationary.

BALL DRILL.

This can be played by six or seven children in a garden, or
a play-room—against a wall.

I. Throw the ball against the wall, clap hands, and then
catch with both hands.

Il. Throw the ball against the wall, clap hands behind, and
catch as it descends.

Il. Throw the ball against the wall, clap hands before and
behind the back, and then catch.

When each child can do the above three exercises ten times
with only one mistake, he or she can be called an apprentice.

IV. Throw, clap before and behind, turning round at the
same time, and then catch.

V. Throw, rotate the hands over each other quickly, and catch.

VI. Throw, rotate, clap, and catch.

VU. Throw, clap before, behind, rotate, turn, and catch.

These exercises can be first practised with both hands, then
with the right, and then with the’ left.

When a child fails to catch the ball, he must fall back and
allow the next one to throw and catch, and so on. When a
pupil can do ad the above exercises ten times, with not more
than one mistake, he can be called a master.

THE WORKER’S GAME.

Two or three children leave the room, or, if in the garden, go
out of sight, and arrange what handicraft they wish to represent.
When they have divided the various actions that can be taken
in the business between them, they knock at the door:

Io
146 AUNT MAI’S ANNUAL.

Spectator : “Who is there?”
The workers: “Three strangers.”
Spectator: “Come in.”

The artizans walk forward and say—

Three strangers have entered into this town,
Who for their work have won renown.
They’ve wandered lately far and wide,

To gain experience hard they've tried.
And now they’ve come from distant shore
To show their skill and power once more.
Who shall guess the craft they play

Shall be their. master for to-day.

The three workers then begin to act different actions of
their chosen trade. If, for instance, they are joiners, one
planes, another bores, and the third saws. When this has
been acted a short time the spectators are allowed to give their
guesses. If they cannot find the trade out, the same three again
go out; but if they guess rightly they become spectators, and
the game goes on. Children are allowed to dress a little, but
use no implements.

SKIPPING-ROPE GAME.

Two children turn, and the child who is going to skip takes
four stones in her hands. She runs in, skips twice, then bends
down and lays one stone on the ground, but must be up again
ready for the rope, skips twice, puts another stone down, and
so on till the four stones are on the ground, when she runs out
to rest a moment. She then skips twice again, stoops and
WHAT SHALL WE PLAY? 147

picks up the first stone and so on, and runs out when the four
stones are in her hand.
The next game is to substitute two stones, then three, etc.

MUSICAL BALL DRILL.

The following drill can be learnt by a class of children in
four weeks, practising twenty minutes every morning.

The piano is played to each movement, but as our readers
may not already possess the same pieces, the names will be
given, and the time, so that the teacher can easily choose other
tunes which will probably prove quite as effective. The number
in brackets represents each beat of a bar.

I,

1. Music: ‘Keel row.” The beats will be given to each
action.
(1) Both hands at the sides, ball in right hand.
(2) Both hands raised.
(3) Throw ball on floor.
(4) Catch both hands,
2. (1) Left hand on side. Right foot forward. Throw
with right on floor.
(2) Catch.
The piece is played through to each part.
3% (1) Right hand on side. Left foot forward. Throw
with left.
(2) Catch.
4. (1) Left hand on side. Right foot forward. Throw
with right hand on floor.
(2) Catch with left hand. Left foot forward, and
so on.
148

I.

AUNT MAIS ANNUAL.

II.

Slow C time, such as ‘‘ Moira’s Welcome.”’

(4)
(1-2)
(3)
(4)

Swing round both arms.

Throw ball in air.

Catch with both hands to the end of the tune.

Right foot out. Left hand at side. Swing right
arm round.

Throw up.

Catch with right hand.

Left foot forward. Right hand at side. Swing
left arm round.

Throw up.

Catch with left hand.

Right foot forward. Swing right arm.

Throw with right hand up.

Place left foot forward. Catch with left hand.

Swing left arm.

Throw ball up with left hand.

Place right foot forward, Catch with right hand.

III.

“Keel Row.”

Left hand on hip. Right foot forward. Hold
ball downwards in right hand.

Throw on floor to bounce.

Ball comes up.

Knock down again with palm of right hand.

Right hand on hip. Left foot forward. Hold
ball downward in left hand.

Ball comes up.

Knock down with palm of left hand.
WHAT SHALL WE PLAY? 149

(4) Ball returns.
3. (1) Left hand on side. Hold ball downwards in
right hand. Right foot forward.
(2) Ball returns, and left foot is placed forward, and
right hand on hip.
(3) Ball is knocked down by palm of /eft hand.
(4) Right foot placed forward and left hand on hip.

IV.

Time two-four, slow. “Der Schlossergesell,’’ in “Laugh and
Learn,” by Jennett Humphreys, goes very well to this drill.

I. (1) Pupil places right foot forward. Bends /eft elbow
and raises the arm at the shoulder, bringing
the forearm and hand before the chest. Throw
the ball up with the 7zgfz hand, outside the
raised arm towards the body.

(2) Catch it as it falls between the arm and chest.

2, (1) Repeat the same with the left foot forward and
right arm bent.

V.
Time six-eight. ‘The Hundred Pipers” is recommended.
I; (1) Pupil stands erect with both arms raised from

the elbow. Throw ball over the head from
the right hand to the left.

(3) Beat. Catch with left hand.
(1) Beat. Throw with left.
(3) Catch with right.
2. (1) Kneel on left knee, and throw ball with right

hand over head.
(3) Catch with left.
oo AUNT MATS ANNUAL.

3: (1) Kneel on right knee, and throw ball with left
hand over head.
(3) Catch with right.

VI.

Tune: “Keel Row.” Dance the Highland Schottisch, throwing
up the ball four times at the 3rd beat of each bar, with the
right hand. Advance to the left and throw up the ball with the
left hand four times at the 3rd beat. Join right hands, and
throw up the ball on each beat as the pupil hops. Then take
left hands, and throw up with the left.
Parents DPational ECburational Union.
Central Office:- 28, Vietoria Street, Westminster, S.W.



founder: Miss CHARLOTTE MASON.
Chairman of Centrai Council: A. T. SCHOFIELD, Esq., M.D.
Vice-Chairman: ALGERNON C. P. COOTE, Esq., M.A.
fon, Org. Secretaries: Mrs. FRANCIS STEINTHAL,
HENRY PERRIN, Esq.
Secretary: MISS PATERSON.
(Office hours 2 to § daily except Saturday).
Bankers: The LONDON & WESTMINSTER BANK
(Victoria Street Branch).
Hon, Auditor: CONRAD TULLOCH, Esq., F.IC.A.



PRINCIPLES, OBJECTS AND RULES.

The Central Principles to which all Local Branches joining the Society shall be
pledged, are: (1) That a religious basis of work be maintained. (2) That the
series of addresses and other means employed by the Union shall be so arranged
as to deal with Education under the following heads: — Physical, mental, moral and
spiritual, (3) That arrangements concerning Lectures, &c., be made with a view to
the convenience of fathers as well as of mothers.(4) That the work of the Union
be arranged to help parents of all classes.

The Objects are: (1) To assist parents of all classes to understand the best
principles and methods of Education in all its aspects, and especially in those which
concern the formation of habits and character. (2) To create a better public opinion
on the subject of the training of children, and, with this object in view, to collect
and make known the best information and experience on the subject. (3) To
afford to parents opportunities for Co-operation and Consultation, so that the wisdom
and experience of each may be made profitable to all. (4) To stimulate their
enthusiasm through the sympathy of numbers acting together. (5) To secure greater
unity and continuity of Education by harmonising home and school training.

The Rules are: (1) Not less than five shillings a year, to cover both heads of a
household, shall be the subscription of Members. And a subscription of not less
than ten shillings a year shall entitle a Member to receive monthly, a copy of the
Parents’ Review (published at 6d.). (2) All Local Branches shall pledge themselves
to the above Principles and Objects, and shall send in the names of the members
of their Committee with an affiliation fee of one guinea to the Central Office, but
shall be free to make their own Bye-laws. (3) Subscriptions shall fall due on the
Ist January, and shall be sent to the Secretary.
Parent® Pational Eburational UWnion.

The following agencies are available for both London and Country Members :

The Natural History Club. The Club was started to help beginners in Natural
Science with these objects: (1) To promote the systematic study of Nature. (2) To
stimulate and guide Amateurs in giving Nature Lessons. (3) To encourage the love
of Nature in children, and to aid the parents and teachers in doing this,

These objects are attained: (1) By Lectures held during the winter inthe Natural
History Museum or elsewhere. (2) By holding Annual Exhibitions of Collections
made by Members and Children. (3) By arranging a systematic plan of study and
instruction for out-of-door and hand-work by means of papers set for each quarter’s
work, and by recommending suitable text books.

The Annual Subscription for Members of the Parents’ Union is 2/6. For Non-
Members 5/-. Fee for Quarterly papers 1/6. Report of Natural History Exhibition 43d.

Monthly Free Lectures. Monthly Lectures on various subjects bearing on the
three-fold aspect of Education are held during the session in London, of which due
notice is given to Members. s

Lending Library. A small Library is in circulation at the Office, and is free to
Members.

Special Lectures and Training Lessons. These are arranged according to the
demand for them, and are held every quarter. (It is hoped that Members will consult
with the Secretary and make suggestions as to special subjects on which such
Lectures or Lessons should be given). Tickets and full particulars to be had at the
Office, A list of Lectures can be sent to the Branch Secretaries on application.

The “ Parents’ Review.” This Magazine, published monthly, is the’ organ of
the Parents’ Union. It can be obtained from the Office for 6/6 annually. Single
copies 73d¢. post free. ;

Literature. Pamphlets setting forth the principles of the Union (price 3d.) and
books dealing with the New Educational Methods are on sale at the Office.

The following agencies are at work under the superintendence and guidance of
Miss Charlotte Mason, House of Education, Ambleside.

Mothers’ Education Course. This is a course of reading arranged for those
who desire to study the subject of education, and is specially designed: (1) To help
mothers to give their children such teaching as should confirm them in the Christian
Religion. (2) To give the knowledge necessary for the care and development of
children in sickness and health. (3) To show the principles of Education, and
methods based on these principles. (4) To enable mothers to awaken their children’s
interest in Nature. Zvtrance Fee, One Guinea. Examination Fee, 5/- for each ex-
amination after the first year, Members of this Course must take in the Paremts’
Qeview, as the articles are frequently given as study. Fees to be paid to Miss Mason’s
account, Messrs, Wakefield and Crewdson’s Bank, Ambleside.

“ Parents’ Review” School. ‘lhis is a plan devised by Miss Mason for intro-
ducing the advantage of school into the family. Lessuns are set for each term,
having due regard to age, disposition, &c., also examination papers, and the time-
tables are carefully arranged. /ve: One Guinea per annum for a family of one or
several children under ten years of age. Three Guineas for one or more children
over ten. Fees to be paid to the account of the Principal, Messrs. Wakefield and
Crewdson's Bank, Ambleside. ;

The House of Education is established for training ladies to become teachers
in families on the new educational lines, by instructing them in the art of managing
and occupying children, and of training them in the best methods of teaching the
subjects suitable for their pupils of whatever age. Fee for the year £50, payable
in advance in three instalments For further particulars apply to Miss Charlotte
Mason, House of Education, Ambleside.


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