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diff --git a/old/14335-h.zip b/old/14335-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad49d1b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14335-h.zip diff --git a/old/14335-h/14335-h.htm b/old/14335-h/14335-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3b79f0f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14335-h/14335-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2043 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nursery, Volume 17, No. 101, May, 1875, by Various</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .author {text-align: right;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + img { border: none; } + hr.full { width: 100%; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Nursery, Volume 17, No. 101, May, 1875, +by Various</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Nursery, Volume 17, No. 101, May, 1875</p> +<p>Author: Various</p> +<p>Release Date: December 13, 2004 [eBook #14335]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, VOLUME 17, NO. 101, MAY, 1875***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Aldarondo,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<!-- Page 127 --><div><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127" /></div> + +<table width="650" summary="Publishing date and volume number"> + <tr> + <td> + No. 101. + </td> + <td align="center"> + MAY, 1875. + </td> + <td align="right"> + Vol. XVII. + </td> + </tr> +</table> + +<table style="background: url(images/01.png);" width="650" +summary="Cover Page (Illustrated)"> + <tr> + <td> + <h3>THE</h3> + + <h1>NURSERY</h1> + + <h2><i>A Monthly Magazine</i></h2> + + <h3>FOR YOUNGEST READERS.</h3> + <br /> + <br /> + <h6>BOSTON:<br /> + JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 BROMFIELD STREET<br /> + <br /> + AMERICAN NEWS CO., 119 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.<br /> + NEW-ENGLAND NEWS CO., 41 COURT ST., BOSTON.<br /> + CENTRAL NEWS CO., PHILADELPHIA.<br /> + WESTERN NEWS CO., CHICAGO.</h6> + </td> + <td> + <div style="height: 845px;"> </div> + </td> + </tr> +</table> + +<table width="650" summary=""> +<tr><td>$1.60 a Year, in advance, Postage Included.</td><td align="right">A single copy, 15 cts.</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><!-- Page 128 --><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128" />CONTENTS OF NUMBER ONE HUNDRED AND ONE.</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td><td align='center'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>EDITOR'S PORTFOLIO.</td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><a href="#EDITORS_PORTFOLIO">128</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER</td><td align='left'>By <i>Uncle Charles</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_129'>129</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ON A HIGH HORSE</td><td align='left'>By <i>Josephine Pollard</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_132'>132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CELEBRATING GRANDMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY</td><td align='left'>By <i>Emily Carter</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_133'>133</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE LITTLE CULPRIT</td><td align='left'>(<i>From the German</i>)</td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_136'>136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE DOLL-BABY SHOW</td><td align='left'>By <i>George Cooper</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_138'>138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE CHICKENS THAT WERE WISER THAN LOTTIE</td><td align='left'>By <i>Ruth Kenyon</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_140'>140</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A HUNT FOR BOY BLUE</td><td align='left'>By <i>A.L.T</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_142'>142</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A DRAWING-LESSON</td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_145'>145</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>DAY AND NIGHT</td><td align='left'>By <i>Aunt Winnie</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_146'>146</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VIEW FROM COOPER'S HILL</td><td align='left'>By <i>E.W.</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_147'>147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SATURDAY NIGHT</td><td align='left'>By <i>Uncle Charles</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_148'>148</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE CUCKOO</td><td align='left'>By <i>Uncle Oscar</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_150'>150</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>WORK AND SING!</td><td align='left'>By <i>Emily Carter</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_152'>152</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ONE YEAR OLD</td><td align='left'>By <i>A.B.C.</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_153'>153</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MY DOG</td><td align='left'>By <i>Willie B. Marshall</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_156'>156</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MAY</td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_157'>157</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>DOT AND THE LEMONS</td><td align='left'>By <i>G.</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_158'>158</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>DADDY DANDELION</td><td align='left'>(<i>Music by T. Crampton</i>)</td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_160'>160</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="EDITORS_PORTFOLIO" id="EDITORS_PORTFOLIO" />EDITOR'S PORTFOLIO.</h2> + + +<p>We think that the present number, both in its pictorial and its literary +contents, will please our host of readers, young and old. The charming +little story of "The Little Culprit," in its mixture of humor and +pathos, has been rarely excelled.</p> + +<p>The drawing lessons, consisting of outlines made by Weir from Landseer's +pictures, seem to be fully appreciated by our young readers, and we have +received from them several copies which are very creditable.</p> + +<p>Remember that for teaching children to read there are no more attractive +volumes than "The Easy Book" and "The Beautiful Book," published at this +office.</p> + +<p>The pleasant days of spring ought to remind canvassers that now is a +good time for getting subscribers, and that "The Nursery" needs but to +be shown to intelligent parents to be appreciated. See terms.</p> + +<p>The use of "The Nursery" in schools has been attended with the best +results. We have much interesting testimony on this point, which we may +soon communicate. It will be worthy the attention of teachers and school +committees.</p> + +<p><i>Subscribers who do not receive</i> "THE NURSERY" <i>promptly, (making due +allowance for the ordinary delay of the mail), are requested to notify +us</i> IMMEDIATELY. <i>Don't wait two or three months and then write +informing us that we have "not sent" the magazine, (which in most cases +is not the fact): but state simply that you have not</i> RECEIVED <i>it; and +be sure, in the first place, that the fault is not at your own +Post-office. Always mention the</i> DATE <i>of your remittance and +subscription as nearly as possible. Remember that</i> WE <i>are not +responsible for the short-comings of the Post-office, and that our +delivery of the magazine is complete when we drop it into the Boston +office properly directed</i>.</p> + +<p><b>"Every house that has children in it, needs 'The Nursery' for their +profit and delight: and every childless house needs it for the sweet +portraiture it gives of childhood."—Northampton Journal.</b></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div><!-- Page 129 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129" />[Pg 129]</span></div> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/02.png"><img src="images/02.png" width="400" +alt="THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER. VOL. XVII.—NO. 5." title="" /> +</a></p> +<h5>THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER. VOL. XVII.—NO. 5.</h5> + + +<div><!-- Page 130 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130" />[Pg 130]</span></div> + +<h2>THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER</h2> + + +<p><img src="images/03.png" width="100" alt="S" title="S" />pot was a little dog who had come all the way from Chicago to Boston, +in the cars with his master. But, as they were about to take the cars +back to their home, they entered a shop near the railroad-station; and +there, before Spot could get out to follow his master, a bad boy shut +the door, and kept the poor dog a prisoner.</p> + +<p>The cars were just going to start. In vain did the master call "Spot, +Spot!" In vain did poor Spot bark and whine, and scratch at the door, +and plead to be let out of the shop. The bad boy kept him there till +just as the bell rang; and then he opened the door, and poor Spot +ran—oh, so fast!—but the cars moved faster than he.</p> + +<p>Mile after mile poor Spot followed the cars, till they were far out of +sight. Then, panting and tired, he stopped by the roadside, and wondered +what he should do, without a home, without a master.</p> + +<p>He had not rested many minutes, when he saw two little girls coming +along the road that crossed the iron track. They were Nelly and Julia, +two sisters. Spot thought he would try and make friends with them.</p> + +<p>But they were afraid of strange dogs. Julia began to cry; and Nelly +said, "Go away, sir; go home, sir: we don't want any thing to do with +you, sir."</p> + +<p>Spot was sorry to be thus driven off. He stopped, and began to whine in +a pleading sort of way, as if saying, "I am a good dog, though a +stranger to you. I have lost my master, and I am very hungry. Please let +me follow you. I'll be very good. I know tricks that will please you."</p> + +<div><!-- Page 131 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131" />[Pg 131]</span></div> + +<p>The children were not so much afraid when they saw him stop as if to get +permission to follow. "He is a good dog, after all," said Nelly: "he +would not force his company on us; he wants his dinner. Come on, sir!"</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged, Spot ran up, wagging his tail, and showing that he was +very glad to find a friend. He barked at other dogs who came too near, +and showed that he meant to defend the little girls at all risks.</p> + +<p>When they arrived home, they gave him some milk and bread, and then took +him into the sitting-room, and played with him. "Beg, sir!" said Nelly; +and at once Spot stood upright on his hind-legs, and put out his +fore-paws.</p> + +<p>Then Julia rolled a ball along the floor; and Spot caught it almost +before it left her hand. "Now, die, sir, die!" cried Nelly; and, much to +her surprise, Spot lay down on the floor, and acted as if he were dead.</p> + +<p>When papa came home, and saw what a good, wise dog Spot was, he told the +children they might keep him till they could find the owner.</p> + +<p>A week afterwards, they saw at the railroad-station a printed bill +offering a reward of thirty dollars for Spot.</p> + +<p>He was restored at once to his master, who proved to be a Mr. Walldorf, +a German. But the little girls refused the offered reward; for they said +they did not deserve it, and Spot had been no trouble to them.</p> + +<p>Three weeks passed by, and then there came a box from New York, directed +to Nelly and Julia. They opened it: and there were two beautiful French +dolls, and two nice large dolls' trunks filled with dolls' dresses and +bonnets,—dresses for morning and evening, for opera and ball-room, for +the street and the parlor, for riding and walking.</p> + +<p>The present was from Mr. Walldorf; and with it came a letter from him +thanking the little girls for their kindness to his good dog, Spot, and +promising to bring Spot to see them the next time he visited Boston.</p> + +<p class="author">UNCLE CHARLES.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><!-- Page 132 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132" />[Pg 132]</span></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a href="images/04.png"><img src="images/04.png" width="600" height="449" alt="On A High Horse" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<h2>ON A HIGH HORSE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>On a velocipede<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Harry would ride:<br /></span> +<span>Quickly the splendid steed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set him astride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Now for a jolly time!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now for some sport!<br /></span> +<span>Hold on!—the little chap's<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Legs are too short.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Harry can't touch the peg,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All he can do;<br /></span> +<span>Though he may stretch his leg<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out of his shoe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>What can we do for him?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This much, of course:<br /></span> +<span>Let down the rider—or<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let down the horse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Many a hobby-horse<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Small boys must ride,<br /></span> +<span>Ere such a steed as this<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They can bestride<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>So, little Harry dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Don't look so cross<br /></span> +<span>When you are taken down<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From a high horse.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">JOSEPHINE POLLARD.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div><!-- Page 133 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133" />[Pg 133]</span></div> + +<h2>CELEBRATING GRANDMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY.</h2> + + +<p>There were three little sisters and one little brother; and their names +were Emma, Ruth, Linda, and John. And these children had a grandmother, +whose seventieth birthday was near at hand.</p> + +<p>"What shall we do to celebrate our dear grandmother's birthday?" asked +Emma, the eldest.</p> + +<p>"Get some crackers and torpedoes, and fire them off," said Johnny.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that will never do!" cried Linda. "Let us give her a serenade."</p> + +<p>"But we none of us sing well enough," said Ruth; "and grandmother, you +know, is a very good musician. Let us do this: Let us come to her as the +'Four Seasons,' and each one salute her with a verse."</p> + +<p>"Yes: that's a very pretty idea," cried Linda. "And I'll be Spring; for +they say my eyes are blue as violets."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll be Summer," cried Emma. "I like summer best."</p> + +<p>"I'll be Autumn," said Johnny; "for, if there's any thing I like, it is +grapes. Peaches, too, are not bad; and what fun it is to go a-nutting!"</p> + +<p>"There's but one season left for me," said Ruth. "I must be Winter. No +matter! Winter has its joys as well as the rest."</p> + +<p>"But who'll write the verses for us?" asked Emma. "There must be a verse +for every season."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the teacher will write them for us!" cried Ruth. "No one could do +it better."</p> + +<div><!-- Page 134 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134" />[Pg 134]</span></div> + +<p>And so, on the morning of grandmother's birthday, as she sat in her +large armchair, with her own pussy on a stool at her side, the "Four +Seasons" entered the room, one after another, and formed a semicircle +in front of her. Grandmother was not a bit frightened. She smiled +kindly; and then the "Seasons" spoke as follows:—</p> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/05.png"><img src="images/05.png" width="400" +alt="Celebrating Grandmother's Birthday" title="" /> +</a></p> + + + +<h3>SPRING.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>I am the Spring: with sunshine see me coming;<br /></span> +<span>Birds begin to twitter; hark! the bees are humming:<br /></span> +<span>Green to field and hillside, blossoms to the tree,<br /></span> +<span>Joy to every human heart are what I bring with me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div><!-- Page 135 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135" />[Pg 135]</span></div> + +<h3>SUMMER.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>See my wealth of flowers! I'm the golden Summer:<br /></span> +<span>Is there for the young or old a more welcome comer?<br /></span> +<span>Come and scent the new-mown grass; by the hillside stray;<br /></span> +<span>And confess that only June brings the perfect day.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>AUTUMN.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Mark the wreath about my head,—wreath of richest flowers;<br /></span> +<span>I am Autumn, and I bring mildest, happiest hours;<br /></span> +<span>In my hand a goblet see, which the grape-juice holds;<br /></span> +<span>Corn and grain and precious fruits, Autumn's arm enfolds.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>WINTER.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Round my head the holly-leaf; in my hand the pine:<br /></span> +<span>I am Winter cold and stern; these last flowers are mine.<br /></span> +<span>But while I am left to rule, all's not dark or sad;<br /></span> +<span>Christmas comes with winter-time to make the children glad.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>ALL THE SEASONS.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Here our offerings glad we bring,<br /></span> +<span>And long life to Grandma sing.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">EMILY CARTER.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a href="images/06.png"><img src="images/06.png" width="400" height="330" alt="Hummingbirds and Fruit" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div><!-- Page 136 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136" />[Pg 136]</span></div> + +<h2>THE LITTLE CULPRIT.</h2> + + +<p>School had begun. The boys and girls were in their places, and the +master was hearing them spell; when all at once there was a soft, low +knock at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in!" said the master; and a little cleanly-dressed girl, about six +years old, stood upon the threshold, with downcast eyes.</p> + +<p>She held out before her, as if trying to hide behind it, a satchel, so +large that it seemed hard to decide whether the child had brought it, or +it had brought the child; and the drops on her cheeks showed how she had +been running.</p> + +<p>"Why, Katie!" cried the schoolmaster, "why do you come so late? Come +here to me, little culprit. It is the first time you have been late. +What does it mean?"</p> + +<p>Little Katie slowly approached him, while her chubby face grew scarlet. +"I—I had to pick berries," she faltered, biting her berry-stained lips.</p> + +<p>"O Katie!" said the master, raising his forefinger, "that is very +strange. You <i>had</i> to? Who, then, told you to?"</p> + +<p>Katie still looked down; and her face grew redder still.</p> + +<p>"Look me in the face, my child," said the master gravely. "Are you +telling the truth?"</p> + +<p>Katie tried to raise her brown roguish eyes to his face: but, ah! the +consciousness of guilt weighed down her eyelids like lead. She could not +look at her teacher: she only shook her curly head.</p> + +<p>"Katie," said the master kindly, "you were not sent to pick berries: you +ran into the woods to pick them for yourself. Perhaps this is your first +falsehood, as it is the first time you have been late at school. Pray +God that it may be your last."</p> + +<div><!-- Page 137 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137" />[Pg 137]</span></div> + +<p>"Oh, oh!" broke forth the little culprit, "the neighbor's boy, Fritz, +took me with him; and the berries tasted so good that I staid too long."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a href="images/07.png"><img src="images/07.png" width="600" height="449" alt="At Teacher's Desk" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>The other children laughed; but a motion of the master's hand restored +silence, and, turning to Katie, he said, "Now, my child, for your +tardiness you will have a black mark, and go down one in your class; +but, Katie, for the falsehood you will lose your place in my heart, and +I cannot love you so much. But I will forgive you, if you will go stand +in the corner of your own accord. Which will you do,—lose your place in +my heart, or go stand in the corner for a quarter of an hour?"</p> + +<p>The child burst into a flood of tears, and sobbing out, "I'd rather go +stand in the corner," went there instantly, and turned her dear little +face to the wall.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the master called her, and, as she came running to him, +he said: "Will you promise me, Katie, never again to say what is not +true?"</p> + +<div><!-- Page 138 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138" />[Pg 138]</span></div> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I will try—I will try never, never to do it again," was the +contrite answer.</p> + +<p>Then the master took up the rosy little thing, and set her on his knee, +and said: "Now, my dear child, I will love you dearly. And, if you are +ever tempted to say what is not true, think how it would grieve your old +teacher if he knew it, and speak the truth for his sake."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" cried the child, her little heart overflowing with +repentance; and, throwing her arms around the master's neck, she hugged +him, and said again, "Yes, yes!"</p> + +<p class="author">FROM THE GERMAN.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_DOLL_BABY_SHOW" id="THE_DOLL_BABY_SHOW" />THE DOLL-BABY SHOW.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Our doll-baby show, it was something quite grand;<br /></span> +<span>You saw there the loveliest dolls in the land.<br /></span> +<span>Each girl brought her own, in its prettiest dress:<br /></span> +<span>Three pins bought a ticket, and not a pin less.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>For the doll that was choicest we offered a prize:<br /></span> +<span>There were wee mites of dollies, and some of great size.<br /></span> +<span>Some came in rich purple, some lilac, some white,<br /></span> +<span>With ribbons and laces,—a wonderful sight!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Now, there was one dolly, so tall and so proud,<br /></span> +<span>She put all the others quite under a cloud;<br /></span> +<span>But one of us hinted, in so many words,<br /></span> +<span>That sometimes fine feathers do not make fine birds.<br /></span> +</div> +<div><!-- Page 139 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139" />[Pg 139]</span></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a href="images/08.png"><img src="images/08.png" width="600" height="454" alt="The Doll-Baby Show" title="" /> +</a> +</div><br /> +<div class="stanza"> +<span>We sat in a row, with our dolls in our laps:<br /></span> +<span>The dolls behaved sweetly, and met no mishaps.<br /></span> +<span>No boys were admitted; for boys will make fun:<br /></span> +<span>Now which do you think was the dolly that won?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Soon all was commotion to hear who would get<br /></span> +<span>The prize; for the dollies' committee had met:<br /></span> +<span>We were the committee; and which do you think<br /></span> +<span>Was the doll we decided on, all in a wink?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Why, each of us said that our own was the best,<br /></span> +<span>The finest, the sweetest, the prettiest drest:<br /></span> +<span>So we <i>all</i> got the prize—we'll invite you to go<br /></span> +<span>The next time we girls have our doll-baby show.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">GEORGE COOPER.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div><!-- Page 140 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140" />[Pg 140]</span></div> + +<h2>THE CHICKENS THAT WERE WISER THAN LOTTIE.</h2> + + +<p>Lottie is always asking, "Why?"</p> + +<p>When mamma calls from the window, "Lottie, Lottie!" she answers, very +pleasantly, "What, ma'am?" for she hopes mamma will say, "Here's a nice +turnover for you;" or, "Cousin Alice has come to see you." But when the +answer is "It is time to come in," the wrinkles appear on Lottie's +forehead, and her voice is a very different one, as she says, "Oh, dear, +I don't want to! <i>Why</i> need I come in now?"</p> + +<p>When papa says, "Little daughter, I want you to do an errand for me," +Lottie whines, and asks, "<i>Why</i> can't Benny do it?"</p> + +<p>Out in the field Old Biddy Brown has four wee chickens, little soft +downy balls, scarcely bigger than the eggs they came from just one week +ago.</p> + +<p>They are very spry, and run all about. When the mother Biddy finds any +nice bit, she clucks; and every little chick comes running to see what +is wanting.</p> + +<p>When it grows chilly, and she fears they will take cold, she says, +"Cluck, cluck, cluck!" and they all run under her warm feathers as fast +as they can.</p> + +<p>Just now Mother Biddy gave a very loud call, and every chicken was under +her wings in a minute; and up in the sky I saw a hawk, who had been +planning to make a good dinner of these same chickens. I could not help +thinking, how well for them, that they did not stop, like Lottie, to +ask, "Why?"</p> + +<p>Down came the hawk with a fierce swoop, as if he meant to take the old +hen and the chickens too; but Mother Biddy sprang up and faced him so +boldly, that he did not know what to make of it.</p> + +<div><!-- Page 141 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141" />[Pg 141]</span></div> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/09.png"><img src="images/09.png" width="400" +alt="The Chickens That Were Wiser Than Lottie" title="" /> +</a></p> + +<p>She seemed to say, "Come on my fine fellow, if you dare. You have got to +eat me before you eat my chicks; and you'll find me rather tough."</p> + +<p>So the hawk changed his mind at the last moment. He thought he would +wait till he could catch the chickens alone. The chickens were saved, +though one of them was nearly dead with fright.</p> + +<p class="author">RUTH KENYON.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><!-- Page 142 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142" />[Pg 142]</span></div> +<h2>A HUNT FOR BOY BLUE.</h2> + + +<p>We have a little three-year-old boy at our house, who likes to hear +stories, and his mother tells him a great many. But there is one which +pleases him more than all the rest, and perhaps the little readers of +"The Nursery" will like it too.</p> + +<p>You have all heard of little Boy Blue, and how he was called upon to +blow his horn; but I don't think any of you know what a search his +father had to find him. This is the story.</p> + +<p>Boy Blue lived on a large farm, and took care of the sheep and cows. One +day the cows got into the corn, and the sheep into the meadow; and Boy +Blue was nowhere to be seen. His father called and called, "Boy Blue, +Boy Blue, where are you? Why do you not look after the sheep and cows? +Where are you?" But no one answered.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<a href="images/10.png"><img src="images/10.png" width="200" height="244" alt="Father & Horse" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>Then Boy Blue's father went to the pasture, and said, "Horse, horse, +have you seen Boy Blue?" The old horse pricked up his cars, and looked +very thoughtful, but neighed, and said, "No, no: I have not seen Boy +Blue."</p> + +<div><!-- Page 143 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143" />[Pg 143]</span></div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<a href="images/11.png"><img src="images/11.png" width="200" height="195" alt="Father & Oxen" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>Next he went to the field where the oxen were ploughing, and said, +"Oxen, oxen, have you seen Boy Blue?" They rolled their great eyes, and +looked at him; but shook their heads, and said, "No, no: we have not +seen Boy Blue."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<a href="images/12.png"><img src="images/12.png" width="200" height="243" alt="Father & Duck" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>Next, he went to the pond; and a great fat duck came out to meet him; +and he said, "Duck, duck, have you seen Boy Blue?" And she said, "Quack, +quack, quack! I have not seen Boy Blue." And all the other ducks said, +"Quack, quack!"</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<a href="images/13.png"><img src="images/13.png" width="200" height="248" alt="Father & Turkey" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>Then Boy Blue's father visited the turkeys, and asked the old gobbler if +he had seen Boy Blue. The old gobbler strutted up and down, saying, +"Gobble, gobble, gobble! I have not seen Boy Blue."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<a href="images/14.png"><img src="images/14.png" width="200" height="213" alt="Cockerel" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>He then asked the cockerel if he had seen Boy Blue. And the cockerel +answered, "Cock-coo-doodle-doo! I haven't seen Boy Blue: +cock-coo-doodle-doo!"</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<a href="images/15.png"><img src="images/15.png" width="200" height="222" alt="Hen" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>Then an old hen was asked if she had seen Boy Blue. She said, "Cluck, +cluck, cluck! I haven't seen Boy Blue; but I will call my chicks, and +you can ask them. Cluck, cluck, cluck!" And all the chicks came running, +but only said, "Peep, peep, peep! We haven't seen Boy Blue. Peep, peep, +peep!"</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<a href="images/16.png"><img src="images/16.png" width="200" height="241" alt="Hen & Chicks" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>Boy Blue's father then went to the men who were making hay, and said, +"Men, men, have you seen my Boy Blue?" But the men answered, "No, no: we +have not seen Boy Blue." But just then they happened to look under a +haycock; and there, all curled up, lay Boy Blue, and his dog Tray, fast +asleep.</p> + +<div><!-- Page 144 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144" />[Pg 144]</span></div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<a href="images/17.png"><img src="images/17.png" width="200" height="233" alt="Father & Boy Blue" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>His father shook him by the arm, saying, "Boy Blue, wake up, wake up! +The sheep are in the meadow, and the cows are in the corn." Boy Blue +sprang to his feet, seized his tin horn, and ran as fast as he could to +the cornfield, with his little dog running by his side.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<a href="images/18.png"><img src="images/18.png" width="200" height="241" alt="Boy Blue & Horn" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>He blew on his horn, "<i>Toot, toot, toot</i>!" and all the cows came running +up, saying, "Moo, moo!" He drove them to the barn to be milked. Then he +ran to the meadows, and blew once more, "<i>Toot, toot, toot</i>!" and all +the sheep came running up, saying, "Baa, baa!" and he drove them to +their pasture.</p> + +<p>Then Boy Blue said to his dog, "Little dog, little dog, it's time for +supper," and his little dog said "Bow, wow! Bow, wow!" So they went home +to supper.</p> + +<p>After Boy Blue had eaten a nice bowl of bread and milk, his father said: +"Now Boy Blue, you had better go to bed, and have a good night's rest, +so that you may be able to keep awake all day to-morrow; for I don't +want to have such a hunt for you again." Then Boy Blue said, "Good +night," and went to bed, and slept sweetly all night long.</p> + +<p class="author">A.L.T.</p> + +<div><!-- Page 145 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145" />[Pg 145]</span></div> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/19.png"><img src="images/19.png" width="400" +alt="From SIR EDWIN LANDSEER'S painting. In outline by MR. +HARRISON WEIR, as a drawing lesson." title="" /> +</a></p> +<h5>From SIR EDWIN LANDSEER'S painting. In outline by MR. +HARRISON WEIR, as a drawing lesson.</h5> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div><!-- Page 146 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146" />[Pg 146]</span></div> + +<h2>DAY AND NIGHT.</h2> + + +<p>Blue-eyed Charley Day had a cousin near his own age, whose name was +Harry Knight. When they were about eight years old, and began to go to +the public school, the boys called them, "Day and Night."</p> + +<p>Charley did not object to the puns the schoolboys made; but Harry was +quite vexed by them. Having quite a dark skin, and very dark eyes and +hair, he thought the boys meant to insult him by calling him, "Night."</p> + +<p>One large boy, about twelve years old, seemed to delight in teasing +Harry. He would say to him, "Come here, 'Night,' and shade my eyes, the +day is so bright." Then, seeing that Harry was annoyed, he would say, +"Oh, what a dark night!"</p> + +<p>Poor Harry would get angry, and that made matters worse; for then Tom +Smith would call him a "stormy night," or a "cloudy night," or the +"blackest night" he ever saw.</p> + +<p>Harry talked with his mother about it; and she told him the best way +would be to join with the boys in their jokes, or else not notice them +at all. She said if he never got out of temper, the boys would not call +him any thing worse than a "bright starry night." And if he went through +the world with as good a name as that she should be perfectly satisfied.</p> + +<p>"Don't take offence at trifles, Harry," said Mrs. Knight. "Don't be +teased by a little nonsense. All the fun that the boys can make out of +your name will not hurt you a bit."</p> + +<p>Harry was wise enough to do as his mother advised, and he found that she +was right. The boys soon became tired of their jokes, when they found +that no one was disturbed by them. But the little cousins were alway +good-naturedly called "Day and Night."</p> + +<p class="author">AUNT WINNIE.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><!-- Page 147 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147" />[Pg 147]</span></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a href="images/20.png"><img src="images/20.png" width="600" height="433" alt="View from Cooper's Hill" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<h2>VIEW FROM COOPER'S HILL.</h2> + + +<p>When grandma was a little girl, she lived in England, where she was +born. She lived in the town of Windsor, twenty-three miles south-west of +London, the greatest city in the world.</p> + +<p>Grandma showed us, the other day, this picture of a view from Cooper's +Hill, near Windsor, and said, "Many a time and oft, dear children, have +I stood there by the old fence, and looked down on the beautiful +prospect,—the winding Thames, the gardens, the fields, and Windsor +Castle in the distance.</p> + +<p>"This noble structure was originally built by William the Conqueror, as +far back as the eleventh century. It has been embellished by most of the +succeeding kings and queens. It is the principal residence of Queen +Victoria in our day. The great park, not far distant, has a circuit of +eighteen miles; and west from the park is Windsor Forest, having a +circuit of fifty-six miles.</p> + +<div><!-- Page 148 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148" />[Pg 148]</span></div> + +<p>"It is many a year since I saw these places. I cannot expect to visit +them again; but this picture brings them vividly before me.</p> + +<p>"And so, dear children, should you ever go to England, don't forget to +go to Cooper's Hill, and, for grandma's sake, to look round upon the +charming prospect which she loved so much when a child."</p> + +<p class="author">E.W.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SATURDAY_NIGHT" id="SATURDAY_NIGHT" />SATURDAY NIGHT.</h2> + + +<p>Bring on the boots and shoes, Tommy; for this is Saturday night, and I +must make things clean for Sunday.</p> + +<p>Here is my old jacket, to begin with. Whack, whack, whack! As I beat it +with my stick, how the dust flies!</p> + +<p>The jacket looks a little the worse for wear; and that patch in the +elbow is more for show than use. But it is a good warm jacket still, and +mother says that next Christmas I shall have a new one.</p> + +<p>Whack, whack, whack! I wish Christmas was not so far off. If somebody +would make me a present now of a handsome new jacket, without a patch in +it, I should take it as an especial kindness. I do hate to wear patched +clothes.</p> + +<p>Stop there, Master Frank! You deserve to be beaten, instead of your +jacket. Look in the glass at your fat figure and rosy checks. Are you +not well fed and well taken care of? Is not good health better than fine +clothes? Are you the one to complain?</p> + +<p>Ah, Frank! Just look at poor Tim Morris, as he goes by in his carriage. +See his fine rich clothes, and his new glossy hat. But see, too, how +pale and thin he looks. How gladly would he put on your patched jacket, +and give you his new one, if he could have your health!</p> + +<div><span class="pagenum"><!-- Page 149 --><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149" />[Pg 149]</span></div> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/21.png"><img src="images/21.png" width="350" +alt="Saturday Night" title="" /> +</a> +</p> + +<p>Whack, whack, whack! I'm an ungrateful boy. I'll not complain again. +Christmas may be as long as it pleases in coming. I'll tell mother she +mustn't pinch herself to buy me a new jacket. I'll tell her this one +will serve me a long time yet; that I have got used to it, and like it. +It will look almost as good as new when I get the dust out of it. Whack, +whack, whack!</p> + +<p class="author">UNCLE CHARLES.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><!-- Page 150 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150" />[Pg 150]</span></div> +<h2>THE CUCKOO.</h2> + + +<p>"Tell me what bird this is a picture of," said Arthur.</p> + +<p>"That," said Uncle Oscar, "is the cuckoo, a bird which arrives in +England, generally, about the middle of April, and departs late in June, +or early in July."</p> + +<p>"Why does it go so early?" asked Arthur.</p> + +<p>"Well, I think it is because it likes a warm climate; and, as soon as +autumn draws near, it wants to go back to the woods of Northern Africa."</p> + +<p>"Why is it called the cuckoo?"</p> + +<p>"Because the male bird utters a call-note which sounds just like the +word <i>kuk-oo</i>. In almost every language, this sound has suggested the +name of the bird. In Greek, it is <i>kokkux</i>; in Latin, <i>coccyx</i>; in +French, <i>coucou</i>; in German, <i>kukuk</i>."</p> + +<p>"What does the bird feed on?" asked Arthur.</p> + +<p>"It feeds on soft insects, hairy caterpillars, and tender fruits."</p> + +<p>"Where does it build its nest?"</p> + +<p>"The cuckoo, I am sorry to say, is not a very honest bird. Instead of +taking the trouble to build a nest for herself, the female bird lays her +eggs in the nest of other birds, and to them commits the care of +hatching and rearing her offspring."</p> + +<p>"I should not call that acting like a good parent," said Arthur. "Do the +other birds take care of these young ones that are not their own?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! they not only take care of them and feed them for weeks, but +sometimes they even let the greedy young cuckoos push their own children +out of the nest."</p> + +<p>"That's a hard case," said Arthur. "Is there any American bird that acts +like the cuckoo?"</p> + +<div><!-- Page 151 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151" />[Pg 151]</span></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<a href="images/22.png"><img src="images/22.png" width="350" height="467" alt="The Cuckoo" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Uncle Oscar. "There is a little bird called the +'cow-bunting,' about as large as a canary-bird: she, too, makes other +birds hatch her young and take care of them."</p> + +<p>"I don't like such lazy behavior. Did you ever hear the note of the +cuckoo?" said Arthur.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" replied Uncle Oscar. "I have heard it in England; and there, +too, I have heard the skylark and the nightingale, neither of which +birds we have in America. But we have the mocking-bird, one of the most +wonderful of song-birds."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if the cuckoo would not live in America," said Arthur. "I +should like to get one and try it. I would take good care of it."</p> + +<p>"It would not thrive in this climate, Arthur."</p> + +<p class="author">UNCLE OSCAR.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><!-- Page 152 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152" />[Pg 152]</span></div> +<table style="background: url(images/23.png); height: 923px;" width="600" summary=""> +<tr><td style="width: 200px;"> </td><td valign="bottom"> +<h2>WORK AND SING!</h2> +<div class="center"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>You must work, and I must sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That's the way the birdies do:<br /></span> +<span>See the workers on the wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See the idle singers too.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Yet not wholly idle these,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They the toilers do not wrong;<br /></span> +<span>For the weary heart they ease<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the rapture of their song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>If our work of life to cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We no music had, no flowers,<br /></span> +<span>Life would hardly seem so dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Longer then would drag the hours.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Like the birdies let us be;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let us not the singers chide;<br /></span> +<span>There's a use in all we see:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Work and sing! the world is wide.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p class="author">EMILY CARTER.</p> +</td></tr></table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><!-- Page 153 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153" />[Pg 153]</span></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<a href="images/24.png"><img src="images/24.png" width="300" height="413" alt="One Year Old" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<h2>ONE YEAR OLD.</h2> + + +<p>Hold her up, mamma, and let us all have a look at her. Is she not a dear +little thing?</p> + +<p>She is not a bit afraid, but only puzzled at being stared at by so many +people. She does not know what to make of it.</p> + +<p>She clutches at her mother's chin, as much as to say, "Tell me what this +means."</p> + +<p><!-- Page 154 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154" />[Pg 154]</span>It means, baby, that you are one year old. This is your birthday, and +we have come to call on you.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<a href="images/25.png"><img src="images/25.png" width="350" height="450" alt="Nurse, Baby, & Cat" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>But here is Jane, the nurse. Has she come to take you away from us? We +are not ready to part with you.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 155 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155" />[Pg 155]</span>You want to go with her? Well, that is too bad! You like her better +than you do me. I must see what she does that makes you so fond of her.</p> + +<p>She takes you to the barn, and shows you the horse and the cow. Then she +lets you look out of the barn-window. There you spy the kitten.</p> + +<p>The kitten sees you, and jumps up on the basket, and looks in your face. +You put out your little hand, and try to reach her.</p> + +<p>Jane has the pig and the chickens to show you yet. But I cannot stay any +longer. I must leave you playing with the kitten.</p> + +<p class="author">A. B. C.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><!-- Page 156 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156" />[Pg 156]</span></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a href="images/26.png"><img src="images/26.png" width="600" height="452" alt="My Dog" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<h2>MY DOG.</h2> + + +<p>I have a dog, and his name is Don. He is nine years old. His master is +in Boston, and I call Don my dog, because I like to have him here. He is +a black-and-white dog, and measures six feet in length, and about two +feet in height.</p> + +<p>When I go on errands, Don takes the basket or pail, and trots away to +the store; and sometimes I have to pull him, or he will go the wrong +way.</p> + +<p>He is a lazy old fellow, and he likes to sleep almost all the time, +except when he is asked if he wants to go anywhere; and then he frisks +around, and seems as if he had never been asleep.</p> + +<p>When he wants a drink, he goes around to the store-room door, and asks +for it by looking up in our faces; and I dare say he would say, if he +could speak, "Please give me a drink?"</p> + +<div><!-- Page 157 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157" />[Pg 157]</span></div> + +<p>I have a little brother, and he sits on my dog a good deal. And I have a +cousin of whom the dog is very fond and when she is at the table, he +will put his paw on her lap, and want her to take it.</p> + +<p>My little baby-brother tumbles over the dog, and sits on him; and +sometimes when I am tired, I lie down and take a nap with my head on +Don's back. He likes to have me do it, and he always keeps watch while I +am asleep.</p> + +<p class="author">LYNN, MASS. WILLIE B. MARSHALL.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MAY" id="MAY" />MAY.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>Pretty little violets, waking from your sleep,<br /></span> +<span>Fragrant little blossoms, just about to peep,<br /></span> +<span>Would you know the reason all the world is gay?<br /></span> +<span>Listen to the bobolinks, telling you 'tis May!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Little ferns and grasses, all so green and bright,<br /></span> +<span>Purple clover nodding, daisies fresh and white,<br /></span> +<span>Would you know the reason all the world is gay?<br /></span> +<span>Listen to the bobolinks, telling you 'tis May!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Darling little warblers, coming in the spring,<br /></span> +<span>Would you know the reason that you love to sing?<br /></span> +<span>Hear the merry children, shouting as they play,<br /></span> +<span>"Listen to the bobolinks, telling us 'tis May!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><!-- Page 158 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158" />[Pg 158]</span></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a href="images/27.png"><img src="images/27.png" width="600" height="451" alt="Dot and The Lemons" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<h2>DOT AND THE LEMONS.</h2> + + +<p>Dot's father is a funny man. One night, he brought home some lemons for +mamma,—twelve long, fat, yellow lemons, in a bag. Dot was sitting at +the piano with mamma when his father came in, and did not run, as usual, +to greet him with a kiss. So Dot's father opened the bag, and let the +lemons drop one by one, and roll all over the floor.</p> + +<p>Then Dot looked around, and cried, "Lemons, lemons! Get down; Dot get +down!" And he ran and picked up the lemons one by one, and put them all +together in the great black arm-chair. As he picked them up, he counted +them: "One, two, three, five, six, seven, nine, ten!"</p> + +<p>When Dot got tired of seeing them on the chair, he began to put them on +the floor again, one at a time, and all in one spot. While he was doing +this, his father stooped down, and when the little boy's back was +turned, took the lemons, slily from the spot where Dot was placing +them, and put them behind his own back,—some behind his right foot, and +some behind his left.</p> + +<div><!-- Page 159 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159" />[Pg 159]</span></div> + +<p>He took only a few of them at first, so that Dot should not miss them. +But, when Dot came to put the last lemon on the floor, he could not see +any thing of the others, and was very much surprised. Then mamma, +grandmamma, and grandpapa all burst out laughing. His father stepped +aside, and there Dot saw the lemons in two rows.</p> + +<p>Then father said, "That was only a joke. Now, Dot, put them back again +on the chair—quick!" And Dot ran and began to take away the lemons from +the first row, and lay them on the black cushion of grandpapa's great +arm-chair, one by one. One—two—three—four—five: he had only one more +lemon to pick up from the first row; but when he came for it—my! there +were two.</p> + +<p>Well, to tell the truth, Dot didn't notice this at first. He picked up +one of the two, and thought to himself, "Only one left, Dot." But, I +declare! there were <i>two</i> left when he came back. "This is a long row," +thought Dot. And every time he left <i>one</i>, he found <i>two</i>, till papa had +quite used up the second row, from which he had been filling up the +first.</p> + +<p>At last Dot <i>did</i> see the last lemon, and then again he didn't see it, +for when he looked for it, it wasn't <i>two</i>, as before, it wasn't there +at all!</p> + +<p>"O papa! you have it behind you; and Dot will pull at your hand till you +give up the lemon; and then you can't play any more tricks with your +bright little boy."</p> + +<p>But Dot will go up to bed with Alice, and in the middle of the night +mamma will hear him saying in his sleep, "Five, six, nine, 'lemon!" For +Dot always says '<i>lemon,</i> when he means <i>eleven</i>.</p> + +<p class="author">G.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div><!-- Page 160 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160" />[Pg 160]</span></div> +<h2>DADDY DANDELION.</h2> + + +<p>Words by T. Hood. Music by T. Crampton</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a href="images/28.png"><img src="images/28.png" width="600" height="793" alt="Music" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p><i>Allegretto. mf</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>1.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daddy Dandelion<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was a splendid fellow,<br /></span> +<span>With a coat of green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a crest of yellow.<br /></span> +<span>He had lots of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He was very lazy;<br /></span> +<span>So he chose to scold<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Modest little Daisy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>2.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ah! you silly flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You're to me beholden,<br /></span> +<span>To your best of power,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aping me the golden.<br /></span> +<span>Just then some one passed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who his stick was swinging,<br /></span> +<span>Chopped off Dandelion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stopped his accents stinging.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>4.<br /></span> +<span>Daisy at the sight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dropped a tear for sorrow,<br /></span> +<span>Closed her leaves that night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Opened on the morrow.<br /></span> +<span>Gazing with delight<br /></span> +<span class="i2">People, all of them,<br /></span> +<span>Asked her where she found<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such a sparkling gem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><!-- Page 161 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161" />[Pg 161]</span></p> + +<h2>COLGATE & CO. NEW YORK</h2> + +<h3>VIOLET TOILET WATER.</h3> + +<h3>CASHMERE BOUQUET EXTRACT.</h3> + +<h3>CASHMERE BOUQUET Toilet Soap.</h3> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Good Commissions or valuable premiums are given to agents for three +first-class union religious papers and one agricultural monthly. +Canvassers are making excellent wages. Agents wanted. Send for sample +copy and terms. Address,</p> + +<h4>H.A. KING, Box 2289, N.Y. City.</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>AN APRIL FOOL</h2> +<p>will not subscribe</p> +<h2>FOR</h2> +<p>THE RURAL HOME from April 4th to January, but</p> +<h2>A WISE MAN</h2> +<p>will, since the subscription for that period—THIRTY-NINE +WEEKS—will cost him only</p> + +<h3>ONE DOLLAR, POST-PAID.</h3> + +<h3>First-class, Eight-Page, Agricultural and Family Weekly—$2 a Year.</h3> + +<p>Specimens free. Address</p> + +<h4>THE RURAL HOME,</h4> +<p class="center">Rochester, N.Y.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>IN PRESS.</h2> + +<h2>THE</h2> + +<h2>NURSERY PRIMER.</h2> + +<p>A book by which children can teach themselves to read, with but little +help from parent or teacher.</p> + +<h3>SUPERBLY AND APTLY ILLUSTRATED.</h3> + +<p>The most beautiful Primer in the market. Containing upwards of a hundred +fine pictures. 96 Pages of the size of The Nursery. The word-system of +teaching explained and applied.</p> + +<h4>JOHN L. SHOREY,</h4> + +<p class="center">36 Bromfield Street, Boston.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<h2>NOTICE.</h2> + +<p>Any of the following articles will be sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt +of the price named, viz:—</p> + +<p> +The Kindergarten Alphabet and Building Blocks, PAINTED: PRICE<br /> +Roman Alphabets, large and small letters, numerals, and animals, .75<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">" " " 1.00</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">" " " 1.50</span><br /> +<br /> +Crandall's Acrobat or Circus Blocks, with which hundreds of queer, fantastic<br /> +figures may be formed by any child, 1.15<br /> +Table-Croquet. This can be used on any table—making a Croquet-Board, at<br /> +trifling expense 1.50<br /> +Game of Bible Characters and Events .50<br /> +Dissected Map of the United States 1.00<br /> +Boys and Girls Writing-Desk 1.00<br /> +Initial Note-Paper and Envelopes 1.00<br /> +Game of Punch And Judy 1.00<br /> +</p> + +<p>BOOKS will be sent postpaid, also, at publishers prices. Send orders and +remittances to</p> + +<h3>JOHN L. SHOREY,</h3> + +<h4>Publisher of "The Nursery."</h4> + +<h4>36 Bromfield Street, Boston, Mass.</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><!-- Page 162 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162" />[Pg 162]</span><b>CONSTANTINES PINE TAR SOAP</b> For Toilet, Bath and Nursery Cures +Diseases of Skin and Scalp and Mucous Coating. Sold by Druggists and +Grocers.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"> +<a href="images/29.png"><img src="images/29.png" width="300" height="354" alt="" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>FRAGRANT SOZODONT</p> + +<p>Is a composition of the purest and choicest ingredients of the vegetable +kingdom. It cleanses, beautifies, and preserves the <b>TEETH</b>, hardens and +invigorates the gums, and cools and refreshes the mouth. Every +ingredient of this <b>Balsamic</b> dentifrice has a beneficial effect on the +<b>Teeth</b> and <b>Gums</b>. <b>Impure Breath</b>, caused by neglected teeth, catarrh, +tobacco, or spirits, is not only neutralized, but rendered fragrant, by +the daily use of <b>SOZODONT</b>. It is as harmless as water, and has been +indorsed by the most scientific men of the day.</p> + +<p><b>Sold by all Druggists, at 75 cents.</b></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>AGENTS' GUIDE</h2> + +<p>Tells who want agents, and what for. 8 page monthly, +10c. a year postpaid. Jas. P. Scott, 125 Clark-st., Chicago.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>SEEDS AND BULBS.</h2> + +<p>ILLUSTRATED SPRING CATALOGUE FOR 1875. NOW READY.</p> + +<p>Sent, with a specimen copy of THE AMERICAN GARDEN, a new Illustrated +Journal of Garden Art, edited by James Hogg, on receipt of ten cents.</p> + +<p><b>BEACH, SON & CO., Seedsmen,</b> 76 Fulton St., Brooklyn, N.Y.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>MAUCK'S HERALD.</h2> + +<h3>A $3 Weekly for $2.</h3> + +<h4>8 LARGE PAGES, 48 LONG COLUMNS.</h4> + +<p>Each, number is complete, and everybody likes it. Gives a weekly record +of the world's doings. In its columns will be found a choice variety of +Gems in every department of Literature, of interest to the general +reader. Its contents embrace the best Stories, Tales of Adventure, +Thrilling Deeds, Startling Episodes, Sketches of Home and Social Life, +Sketches of Travel, Instructive Papers on Science and Art, Interesting +Articles on Agriculture, Horticulture, Gardening and Housekeeping, +Choice Poetry, Essays, Correspondence, Anecdotes, Wit and Humor, +Valuable Recipes, Market Reviews, Items of Interesting and Condensed +Miscellany. Free from Sectarianism, there is always something to please +all classes of readers, both grave and gay.</p> + +<p>As a Family Paper, it has merits that no similar publication possesses. +The large amount and great variety of popular and valuable reading +matter in each number is not excelled by any other paper.</p> + +<p>Sample 6 cents; with two chromos, 25 cents. $2 a year. Try it three +months for 50 cents. Say where you saw this. Value and satisfaction +guaranteed. More agents and subscribers wanted everywhere.</p> + +<h3>The Nursery and Mauck's Herald,</h3> + +<p>Both one year, postpaid, for $2.25.</p> + +<p class="center">Address L.W. MAUCK, Cheshire, Ohio.</p> + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>30 FANCY CALLING CARDS, 9 styles, 20 cts. with names, or 40 Blank Scroll +Cards 5 designs and colors 20 cts. Outfit 19 styles 10 cts. Address J.B. +HUSTED, Nassau, Kens Co., N.Y.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>$57.60 <b>Agents' Profits per week</b>. Will prove it or forfeit $500. New +articles are just patented. Samples sent free to all. Address W.H. +CHIDESTER, 267 Broadway, N.Y.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>FREE Sample copy of <b>CHEAPEST PAPER IN AMERICA!</b> Eight large pages, +(<i>Ledger</i> size.) Monthly; only 50 cents a year. Choice Reading, Nice +Premiums. AGENTS WANTED. <b>LITERARY REPORTER</b>, Quincy, Mich.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>SPELLING CHAMPIONS ATTENTION!</h2> + +<h3>Sargents Pronouncing Spelling-Book.</h3> + +<p>The most elaborate work of the kind, contains an "Alphabetical Index of +Representative words, <i>such as are liable to be misspelled or +mispronounced</i>."</p> + +<p>These words are not technical absurdities, such as no one uses, but +honest useful words, which every scholar ought to know.</p> + +<p>No better collection to test spellers at the matches now in vogue can be +found.</p> + +<p>Price 32 cents, postpaid. Published by</p> + +<h4>JOHN L. SHOREY,</h4> + +<h4>36 Bromfield Street, Boston.</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>PRETTY PAPERS FOR PAPER DOLLS.</h2> + +<p>Send 15 cents, and get 20 varieties by +mail. C.W. JENCKS & BRO., Providence, R.I.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + +<h2>THE NURSERY</h2> + +<div><!-- Page 163 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163" />[Pg 163]</span></div> + +<h3>PREMIUM-LIST for 1875.</h3> + +<p>For three new subscribers, at $1.60 each, we will give any one of the +following articles: a heavily-plated gold pencil-case, a rubber +pencil-case with gold tips, silver fruit-knife, a pen-knife, a beautiful +wallet, any book worth $1.50. For five, at $1.60 each, any one of the +following: globe microscope, silver fruit-knife, silver napkin-ring, +book or books worth $2.50. For six, at $1.60 each, we will give any one +of the following: a silver fruit-knife (marked), silver napkin-ring, +pen-knives, scissors, backgammon-board, note-paper and envelopes stamped +with initials, books worth $3.00. For ten, at $1.60 each, select any one +of the following: morocco travelling-bag, stereoscope with six views, +silver napkin-ring, compound microscope, lady's work-box, sheet-music or +books worth $5.00. For twenty, at $1.60 each, select any one of the +following: a fine croquet-set, a powerful opera-glass, a toilet case, +Webster's Dictionary (unabridged), sheet-music or books worth $10.00.</p> + +<p><b>Any other articles equally easy to transport may be selected as +premiums, their value being in proportion to the number of subscribers +sent. Thus, we will give for three new subscribers, at $1.60 each, a +premium worth $1.50; for four, a premium worth $2.00; for five, a +premium worth $2.50; and so on.</b></p> + +<p>BOOKS for premiums may be selected from any publisher's catalogue; and +we can always supply them at catalogue prices. Under this offer, +subscriptions to any periodical or newspaper are included.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2>SPECIAL OFFERS.</h2> + +<p>BOOKS.—For two new subscribers, at $1.60 each, we will give any +<i>half-yearly</i> volume of THE NURSERY; for three, any <i>yearly</i> volume; for +two, OXFORD'S JUNIOR SPEAKER; for two, THE EASY BOOK; for two, THE +BEAUTIFUL BOOK; for three, OXFORD'S SENIOR SPEAKER; for three, SARGENT'S +ORIGINAL DIALOGUES; for three, an elegant edition of SHAKSPEARE, +complete in one volume, full cloth, extra gilt, and gilt-edged; or any +one of the standard BRITISH POETS, in the same style. GLOBES.—For two +new subscribers, we will give a beautiful GLOBE three inches in +diameter; for three, a GLOBE four inches in diameter; for five, a GLOBE +six inches in diameter. PRANG'S CHROMOS will be given as premiums at the +publisher's prices. Send stamp for a catalogue. GAMES, &c.—For two new +subscribers, we will give any one of the following: The Checkered Game +of Life, Alphabet and Building Blocks, Dissected Maps, &c., &c. For +three new subscribers, any one of the following: Japanese Backgammon or +Kakeba, Alphabet and Building Blocks (extra). Croquet, Chivalrie, Ring +Quoits, and any other of the popular games of the day may be obtained on +the most favorable terms, by working for THE NURSERY. Send stamp to us +for descriptive circulars.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>MARSHALL'S ENGRAVED PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN AND GRANT.</h3> + +<p>Either of these large and superbly executed steel engravings will be +sent, postpaid, as a premium for three new subscribers at $1.60 each.</p> + +<p>Do not wait to make up the whole list before sending. Send the +subscriptions as you get them, stating that they are to go to your +credit for a premium; and, when your list is completed, select your +premium, and it will be forthcoming.</p> + +<p><i>Take notice that our offers of premiums apply only to subscriptions +paid at the full price: viz., $1.60 a year. We do not offer premiums for +subscriptions supplied at club-rates. We offer no premiums for one +subscription only. We offer no premiums in money</i>.</p> + +<h3>Address, JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 Bromfield St., Boston.</h3> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<div><!-- Page 164 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164" />[Pg 164]</span></div> +<h3>TERMS—1875.</h3> + +<p><b>SUBSCRIPTIONS</b>,—$1.60 a year, in advance. Three copies for 4.30 a +year; four for $5.40; five for $6.50; six for $7.60: seven fur $8.70; +eight for $9.80; nine for $10.90; each additional copy for $1.20; twenty +copies for $22.00, always in advance.</p> + +<p>POSTAGE is included in the above rates. All magazines are sent postpaid.</p> + +<p>A SINGLE NUMBER will be mailed for 15 cents. <i>One sample number will be +mailed for 10 cents</i>.</p> + +<p>VOLUMES begin with January and July. Subscriptions may commence with any +month, but, unless the time is specified, will date from the beginning +of the current volume.</p> + +<p>BACK NUMBERS can always be supplied. <i>The Magazine commenced January</i>, +1867.</p> + +<p>BOUND VOLUMES, each containing the numbers for six months, will be sent +by mail, postpaid, for $1.00 per volume; yearly volumes for $1.75.</p> + +<p>COVERS, for half-yearly volume, postpaid, 35 cents; covers for yearly +volume, 40 cents,</p> + +<p>PRICES OF BINDING.—In the regular half-yearly volume, 40 cents; in one +yearly volume (12 Nos. in one), 50 cents. If the volumes are to be +returned by mail, add 14 cents for the half-yearly, and 22 cents for the +yearly volume, to pay postage.</p> + +<p>REMITTANCES may be made at our risk, if made by check, or money-order.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>IN CLUB WITH OTHER PERIODICALS.</h3> + +<p>(ALL POSTPAID.)</p> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>Scribner's Monthly</td><td align='left'>$4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>$4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Harper's Monthly</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Harper's Weekly</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Harper's Bazar</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Atlantic Monthly</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Galaxy</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Old and New</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Lippincott's Magazine</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Appleton's Journal</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Living Age</td><td align='left'>8.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>9.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Phrenological Journal</td><td align='left'>3.10, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Science of Health</td><td align='left'>2.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>3.10</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Sanitarian</td><td align='left'>3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>St. Nicholas</td><td align='left'>$3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>$4.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Household</td><td align='left'>1.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>2.20</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mother's Journal</td><td align='left'>2.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>3.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Demorest's Monthly</td><td align='left'>3.10, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Little Corporal</td><td align='left'>1.50, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>2.70</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Leslie's Illustrated</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Optic's Magazine</td><td align='left'>3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Lady's Journal</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Godey's Lady's Book</td><td align='left'>3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Hearth and Home</td><td align='left'>3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Young People's Mag.</td><td align='left'>1.50, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>2.70</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Horticulturist</td><td align='left'>2.10, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>3.20</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Ladies Floral Cabinet</td><td align='left'>1.30, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>2.60</td></tr></table> + +<p>N.B.—When any of these Magazines is desired in club with "The Nursery" +at the above rates, both Magazines must be subscribed for at the <i>same +time</i>; but they need not be to the same address. We furnish our own +Magazine, and agree to pay the subscription for the other. Beyond this +we take no responsibility. The publisher of each Magazine is responsible +for its prompt delivery; and complaints must be addressed accordingly.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS</h3> + +<p>The number of the Magazine with which your subscription <i>expires</i> is +indicated by the number annexed to the address on the printed label. +When no such number appears, it will be understood that the subscription +ends with the current year. <b>No notice of discontinuance need be given, +as the Magazine is never sent after the term of subscription expires.</b> +Subscribers will oblige us by sending their renewals promptly. State +always that your payment is for a <i>renewal</i>, when such is the fact. In +changing the direction, the <i>old</i> as well as the <i>new</i> address should be +given. The sending of "The Nursery" will be regarded as a sufficient +receipt.</p> + +<h4>Any one not receiving it will please notify us immediately, giving date +of remittance.</h4> + +<h3>ADDRESS, JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 Bromfield St., Boston, Mass.</h3> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, VOLUME 17, NO. 101, MAY, 1875***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 14335-h.txt or 14335-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/3/3/14335">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/3/14335</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Nursery, Volume 17, No. 101, May, 1875 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: December 13, 2004 [eBook #14335] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, VOLUME 17, NO. 101, +MAY, 1875*** + + +E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Aldarondo, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 14335-h.htm or 14335-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/3/3/14335/14335-h/14335-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/3/3/14335/14335-h.zip) + + + + + +THE NURSERY + +No. 101. MAY, 1875. Vol. XVII + +A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers + +Boston: +John L. Shorey, 36 Bromfield Street. + +American News Co., 119 Nassau St., New York. +New-England News Co., 41 Court St., Boston. +Central News Co., Philadelphia. +Western News Co., Chicago. + +$1.60 a Year, in advance, Postage Included. +A single copy, 15 cts. + + + + + + + +CONTENTS OF NUMBER ONE HUNDRED AND ONE. + + +THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER By Uncle Charles +ON A HIGH HORSE By Josephine Pollard +CELEBRATING GRANDMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY By Emily Carter +THE LITTLE CULPRIT (From the German) +THE DOLL-BABY SHOW By George Cooper +THE CHICKENS THAT WERE WISER THAN LOTTIE By Ruth Kenyon +A HUNT FOR BOY BLUE By A.L.T. +A DRAWING-LESSON +DAY AND NIGHT By Aunt Winnie +VIEW FROM COOPER'S HILL By E.W. +SATURDAY NIGHT By Uncle Charles +THE CUCKOO By Uncle Oscar +WORK AND SING! By Emily Carter +ONE YEAR OLD By A.B.C. +MY DOG By Willie B. Marshall +MAY +DOT AND THE LEMONS By G. +DADDY DANDELION (Music by T. Crampton) + + + + + + +EDITOR'S PORTFOLIO. + + +We think that the present number, both in its pictorial and its literary +contents, will please our host of readers, young and old. The charming +little story of "The Little Culprit," in its mixture of humor and +pathos, has been rarely excelled. + +The drawing lessons, consisting of outlines made by Weir from Landseer's +pictures, seem to be fully appreciated by our young readers, and we have +received from them several copies which are very creditable. + +Remember that for teaching children to read there are no more attractive +volumes than "The Easy Book" and "The Beautiful Book," published at this +office. + +The pleasant days of spring ought to remind canvassers that now is a +good time for getting subscribers, and that "The Nursery" needs but to +be shown to intelligent parents to be appreciated. See terms. + +The use of "The Nursery" in schools has been attended with the best +results. We have much interesting testimony on this point, which we may +soon communicate. It will be worthy the attention of teachers and school +committees. + +Subscribers who do not receive "THE NURSERY" promptly, (making due +allowance for the ordinary delay of the mail), are requested to notify +us IMMEDIATELY. Don't wait two or three months and then write +informing us that we have "not sent" the magazine, (which in most cases +is not the fact): but state simply that you have not RECEIVED it; and +be sure, in the first place, that the fault is not at your own +Post-office. Always mention the DATE of your remittance and +subscription as nearly as possible. Remember that WE are not +responsible for the short-comings of the Post-office, and that our +delivery of the magazine is complete when we drop it into the Boston +office properly directed. + +"Every house that has children in it, needs 'The Nursery' for their +profit and delight: and every childless house needs it for the sweet +portraiture it gives of childhood."--Northampton Journal. + + + + +[Illustration: THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER. + + +THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER + + +Spot was a little dog who had come all the way from Chicago to Boston, +in the cars with his master. But, as they were about to take the cars +back to their home, they entered a shop near the railroad-station; and +there, before Spot could get out to follow his master, a bad boy shut +the door, and kept the poor dog a prisoner. + +The cars were just going to start. In vain did the master call "Spot, +Spot!" In vain did poor Spot bark and whine, and scratch at the door, +and plead to be let out of the shop. The bad boy kept him there till +just as the bell rang; and then he opened the door, and poor Spot +ran--oh, so fast!--but the cars moved faster than he. + +Mile after mile poor Spot followed the cars, till they were far out of +sight. Then, panting and tired, he stopped by the roadside, and wondered +what he should do, without a home, without a master. + +He had not rested many minutes, when he saw two little girls coming +along the road that crossed the iron track. They were Nelly and Julia, +two sisters. Spot thought he would try and make friends with them. + +But they were afraid of strange dogs. Julia began to cry; and Nelly +said, "Go away, sir; go home, sir: we don't want any thing to do with +you, sir." + +Spot was sorry to be thus driven off. He stopped, and began to whine in +a pleading sort of way, as if saying, "I am a good dog, though a +stranger to you. I have lost my master, and I am very hungry. Please let +me follow you. I'll be very good. I know tricks that will please you." + +The children were not so much afraid when they saw him stop as if to get +permission to follow. "He is a good dog, after all," said Nelly: "he +would not force his company on us; he wants his dinner. Come on, sir!" + +Thus encouraged, Spot ran up, wagging his tail, and showing that he was +very glad to find a friend. He barked at other dogs who came too near, +and showed that he meant to defend the little girls at all risks. + +When they arrived home, they gave him some milk and bread, and then took +him into the sitting-room, and played with him. "Beg, sir!" said Nelly; +and at once Spot stood upright on his hind-legs, and put out his +fore-paws. + +Then Julia rolled a ball along the floor; and Spot caught it almost +before it left her hand. "Now, die, sir, die!" cried Nelly; and, much to +her surprise, Spot lay down on the floor, and acted as if he were dead. + +When papa came home, and saw what a good, wise dog Spot was, he told the +children they might keep him till they could find the owner. + +A week afterwards, they saw at the railroad-station a printed bill +offering a reward of thirty dollars for Spot. + +He was restored at once to his master, who proved to be a Mr. Walldorf, +a German. But the little girls refused the offered reward; for they said +they did not deserve it, and Spot had been no trouble to them. + +Three weeks passed by, and then there came a box from New York, directed +to Nelly and Julia. They opened it: and there were two beautiful French +dolls, and two nice large dolls' trunks filled with dolls' dresses and +bonnets,--dresses for morning and evening, for opera and ball-room, for +the street and the parlor, for riding and walking. + +The present was from Mr. Walldorf; and with it came a letter from him +thanking the little girls for their kindness to his good dog, Spot, and +promising to bring Spot to see them the next time he visited Boston. + +UNCLE CHARLES. + + + + +[Illustration: On A High Horse] + +ON A HIGH HORSE. + + + On a velocipede + Harry would ride: + Quickly the splendid steed + Set him astride. + + Now for a jolly time! + Now for some sport! + Hold on!--the little chap's + Legs are too short. + + Harry can't touch the peg, + All he can do; + Though he may stretch his leg + Out of his shoe! + + What can we do for him? + This much, of course: + Let down the rider--or + Let down the horse. + + Many a hobby-horse + Small boys must ride, + Ere such a steed as this + They can bestride + + So, little Harry dear, + Don't look so cross + When you are taken down + From a high horse. + +JOSEPHINE POLLARD. + + + + +CELEBRATING GRANDMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY. + + +There were three little sisters and one little brother; and their names +were Emma, Ruth, Linda, and John. And these children had a grandmother, +whose seventieth birthday was near at hand. + +"What shall we do to celebrate our dear grandmother's birthday?" asked +Emma, the eldest. + +"Get some crackers and torpedoes, and fire them off," said Johnny. + +"Oh, that will never do!" cried Linda. "Let us give her a serenade." + +"But we none of us sing well enough," said Ruth; "and grandmother, you +know, is a very good musician. Let us do this: Let us come to her as the +'Four Seasons,' and each one salute her with a verse." + +"Yes: that's a very pretty idea," cried Linda. "And I'll be Spring; for +they say my eyes are blue as violets." + +"Then I'll be Summer," cried Emma. "I like summer best." + +"I'll be Autumn," said Johnny; "for, if there's any thing I like, it is +grapes. Peaches, too, are not bad; and what fun it is to go a-nutting!" + +"There's but one season left for me," said Ruth. "I must be Winter. No +matter! Winter has its joys as well as the rest." + +"But who'll write the verses for us?" asked Emma. "There must be a verse +for every season." + +"Oh, the teacher will write them for us!" cried Ruth. "No one could do +it better." + +And so, on the morning of grandmother's birthday, as she sat in her +large armchair, with her own pussy on a stool at her side, the "Four +Seasons" entered the room, one after another, and formed a semicircle +in front of her. Grandmother was not a bit frightened. She smiled +kindly; and then the "Seasons" spoke as follows:-- + +[Illustration: Celebrating Grandmother's Birthday] + + +SPRING. + + I am the Spring: with sunshine see me coming; + Birds begin to twitter; hark! the bees are humming: + Green to field and hillside, blossoms to the tree, + Joy to every human heart are what I bring with me. + + +SUMMER. + + See my wealth of flowers! I'm the golden Summer: + Is there for the young or old a more welcome comer? + Come and scent the new-mown grass; by the hillside stray; + And confess that only June brings the perfect day. + + +AUTUMN. + + Mark the wreath about my head,--wreath of richest flowers; + I am Autumn, and I bring mildest, happiest hours; + In my hand a goblet see, which the grape-juice holds; + Corn and grain and precious fruits, Autumn's arm enfolds. + + +WINTER. + + Round my head the holly-leaf; in my hand the pine: + I am Winter cold and stern; these last flowers are mine. + But while I am left to rule, all's not dark or sad; + Christmas comes with winter-time to make the children glad. + + +ALL THE SEASONS. + + Here our offerings glad we bring, + And long life to Grandma sing. + +EMILY CARTER. + +[Illustration: Hummingbirds and Fruit] + + + + +THE LITTLE CULPRIT. + + +School had begun. The boys and girls were in their places, and the +master was hearing them spell; when all at once there was a soft, low +knock at the door. + +"Come in!" said the master; and a little cleanly-dressed girl, about six +years old, stood upon the threshold, with downcast eyes. + +She held out before her, as if trying to hide behind it, a satchel, so +large that it seemed hard to decide whether the child had brought it, or +it had brought the child; and the drops on her cheeks showed how she had +been running. + +"Why, Katie!" cried the schoolmaster, "why do you come so late? Come +here to me, little culprit. It is the first time you have been late. +What does it mean?" + +Little Katie slowly approached him, while her chubby face grew scarlet. +"I--I had to pick berries," she faltered, biting her berry-stained lips. + +"O Katie!" said the master, raising his forefinger, "that is very +strange. You _had_ to? Who, then, told you to?" + +Katie still looked down; and her face grew redder still. + +"Look me in the face, my child," said the master gravely. "Are you +telling the truth?" + +Katie tried to raise her brown roguish eyes to his face: but, ah! the +consciousness of guilt weighed down her eyelids like lead. She could not +look at her teacher: she only shook her curly head. + +"Katie," said the master kindly, "you were not sent to pick berries: you +ran into the woods to pick them for yourself. Perhaps this is your first +falsehood, as it is the first time you have been late at school. Pray +God that it may be your last." + +"Oh, oh!" broke forth the little culprit, "the neighbor's boy, Fritz, +took me with him; and the berries tasted so good that I staid too long." + +[Illustration: At Teacher's Desk] + +The other children laughed; but a motion of the master's hand restored +silence, and, turning to Katie, he said, "Now, my child, for your +tardiness you will have a black mark, and go down one in your class; +but, Katie, for the falsehood you will lose your place in my heart, and +I cannot love you so much. But I will forgive you, if you will go stand +in the corner of your own accord. Which will you do,--lose your place in +my heart, or go stand in the corner for a quarter of an hour?" + +The child burst into a flood of tears, and sobbing out, "I'd rather go +stand in the corner," went there instantly, and turned her dear little +face to the wall. + +In a few minutes the master called her, and, as she came running to him, +he said: "Will you promise me, Katie, never again to say what is not +true?" + +"Oh, yes, I will try--I will try never, never to do it again," was the +contrite answer. + +Then the master took up the rosy little thing, and set her on his knee, +and said: "Now, my dear child, I will love you dearly. And, if you are +ever tempted to say what is not true, think how it would grieve your old +teacher if he knew it, and speak the truth for his sake." + +"Yes, yes!" cried the child, her little heart overflowing with +repentance; and, throwing her arms around the master's neck, she hugged +him, and said again, "Yes, yes!" + +FROM THE GERMAN. + + + + +THE DOLL-BABY SHOW. + + + Our doll-baby show, it was something quite grand; + You saw there the loveliest dolls in the land. + Each girl brought her own, in its prettiest dress: + Three pins bought a ticket, and not a pin less. + + For the doll that was choicest we offered a prize: + There were wee mites of dollies, and some of great size. + Some came in rich purple, some lilac, some white, + With ribbons and laces,--a wonderful sight! + + Now, there was one dolly, so tall and so proud, + She put all the others quite under a cloud; + But one of us hinted, in so many words, + That sometimes fine feathers do not make fine birds. + +[Illustration: The Doll-Baby Show] + + We sat in a row, with our dolls in our laps: + The dolls behaved sweetly, and met no mishaps. + No boys were admitted; for boys will make fun: + Now which do you think was the dolly that won? + + Soon all was commotion to hear who would get + The prize; for the dollies' committee had met: + We were the committee; and which do you think + Was the doll we decided on, all in a wink? + + Why, each of us said that our own was the best, + The finest, the sweetest, the prettiest drest: + So we _all_ got the prize--we'll invite you to go + The next time we girls have our doll-baby show. + +GEORGE COOPER. + + + + +THE CHICKENS THAT WERE WISER THAN LOTTIE. + + +Lottie is always asking, "Why?" + +When mamma calls from the window, "Lottie, Lottie!" she answers, very +pleasantly, "What, ma'am?" for she hopes mamma will say, "Here's a nice +turnover for you;" or, "Cousin Alice has come to see you." But when the +answer is "It is time to come in," the wrinkles appear on Lottie's +forehead, and her voice is a very different one, as she says, "Oh, dear, +I don't want to! _Why_ need I come in now?" + +When papa says, "Little daughter, I want you to do an errand for me," +Lottie whines, and asks, "_Why_ can't Benny do it?" + +Out in the field Old Biddy Brown has four wee chickens, little soft +downy balls, scarcely bigger than the eggs they came from just one week +ago. + +They are very spry, and run all about. When the mother Biddy finds any +nice bit, she clucks; and every little chick comes running to see what +is wanting. + +When it grows chilly, and she fears they will take cold, she says, +"Cluck, cluck, cluck!" and they all run under her warm feathers as fast +as they can. + +Just now Mother Biddy gave a very loud call, and every chicken was under +her wings in a minute; and up in the sky I saw a hawk, who had been +planning to make a good dinner of these same chickens. I could not help +thinking, how well for them, that they did not stop, like Lottie, to +ask, "Why?" + +Down came the hawk with a fierce swoop, as if he meant to take the old +hen and the chickens too; but Mother Biddy sprang up and faced him so +boldly, that he did not know what to make of it. + +[Illustration: The Chickens That Were Wiser Than Lottie] + +She seemed to say, "Come on my fine fellow, if you dare. You have got to +eat me before you eat my chicks; and you'll find me rather tough." + +So the hawk changed his mind at the last moment. He thought he would +wait till he could catch the chickens alone. The chickens were saved, +though one of them was nearly dead with fright. + +RUTH KENYON. + + + + +A HUNT FOR BOY BLUE. + + +We have a little three-year-old boy at our house, who likes to hear +stories, and his mother tells him a great many. But there is one which +pleases him more than all the rest, and perhaps the little readers of +"The Nursery" will like it too. + +You have all heard of little Boy Blue, and how he was called upon to +blow his horn; but I don't think any of you know what a search his +father had to find him. This is the story. + +Boy Blue lived on a large farm, and took care of the sheep and cows. One +day the cows got into the corn, and the sheep into the meadow; and Boy +Blue was nowhere to be seen. His father called and called, "Boy Blue, +Boy Blue, where are you? Why do you not look after the sheep and cows? +Where are you?" But no one answered. + +[Illustration: Father & Horse] + +Then Boy Blue's father went to the pasture, and said, "Horse, horse, +have you seen Boy Blue?" The old horse pricked up his cars, and looked +very thoughtful, but neighed, and said, "No, no: I have not seen Boy +Blue." + +[Illustration: Father & Oxen] + +Next he went to the field where the oxen were ploughing, and said, +"Oxen, oxen, have you seen Boy Blue?" They rolled their great eyes, and +looked at him; but shook their heads, and said, "No, no: we have not +seen Boy Blue." + +[Illustration: Father & Duck] + +Next, he went to the pond; and a great fat duck came out to meet him; +and he said, "Duck, duck, have you seen Boy Blue?" And she said, "Quack, +quack, quack! I have not seen Boy Blue." And all the other ducks said, +"Quack, quack!" + +[Illustration: Father & Turkey] + +Then Boy Blue's father visited the turkeys, and asked the old gobbler if +he had seen Boy Blue. The old gobbler strutted up and down, saying, +"Gobble, gobble, gobble! I have not seen Boy Blue." + +[Illustration: Cockerel] + +He then asked the cockerel if he had seen Boy Blue. And the cockerel +answered, "Cock-coo-doodle-doo! I haven't seen Boy Blue: +cock-coo-doodle-doo!" + +[Illustration: Hen] + +Then an old hen was asked if she had seen Boy Blue. She said, "Cluck, +cluck, cluck! I haven't seen Boy Blue; but I will call my chicks, and +you can ask them. Cluck, cluck, cluck!" And all the chicks came running, +but only said, "Peep, peep, peep! We haven't seen Boy Blue. Peep, peep, +peep!" + +[Illustration: Hen & Chicks] + +Boy Blue's father then went to the men who were making hay, and said, +"Men, men, have you seen my Boy Blue?" But the men answered, "No, no: we +have not seen Boy Blue." But just then they happened to look under a +haycock; and there, all curled up, lay Boy Blue, and his dog Tray, fast +asleep. + +[Illustration: Father & Boy Blue] + +His father shook him by the arm, saying, "Boy Blue, wake up, wake up! +The sheep are in the meadow, and the cows are in the corn." Boy Blue +sprang to his feet, seized his tin horn, and ran as fast as he could to +the cornfield, with his little dog running by his side. + +[Illustration: Boy Blue & Horn] + +He blew on his horn, "_Toot, toot, toot_!" and all the cows came running +up, saying, "Moo, moo!" He drove them to the barn to be milked. Then he +ran to the meadows, and blew once more, "_Toot, toot, toot_!" and all +the sheep came running up, saying, "Baa, baa!" and he drove them to +their pasture. + +Then Boy Blue said to his dog, "Little dog, little dog, it's time for +supper," and his little dog said "Bow, wow! Bow, wow!" So they went home +to supper. + +After Boy Blue had eaten a nice bowl of bread and milk, his father said: +"Now Boy Blue, you had better go to bed, and have a good night's rest, +so that you may be able to keep awake all day to-morrow; for I don't +want to have such a hunt for you again." Then Boy Blue said, "Good +night," and went to bed, and slept sweetly all night long. + +A.L.T. + +[Illustration: From SIR EDWIN LANDSEER'S painting. In outline by MR. +HARRISON WEIR, as a drawing lesson.] + + + + +DAY AND NIGHT. + + +Blue-eyed Charley Day had a cousin near his own age, whose name was +Harry Knight. When they were about eight years old, and began to go to +the public school, the boys called them, "Day and Night." + +Charley did not object to the puns the schoolboys made; but Harry was +quite vexed by them. Having quite a dark skin, and very dark eyes and +hair, he thought the boys meant to insult him by calling him, "Night." + +One large boy, about twelve years old, seemed to delight in teasing +Harry. He would say to him, "Come here, 'Night,' and shade my eyes, the +day is so bright." Then, seeing that Harry was annoyed, he would say, +"Oh, what a dark night!" + +Poor Harry would get angry, and that made matters worse; for then Tom +Smith would call him a "stormy night," or a "cloudy night," or the +"blackest night" he ever saw. + +Harry talked with his mother about it; and she told him the best way +would be to join with the boys in their jokes, or else not notice them +at all. She said if he never got out of temper, the boys would not call +him any thing worse than a "bright starry night." And if he went through +the world with as good a name as that she should be perfectly satisfied. + +"Don't take offence at trifles, Harry," said Mrs. Knight. "Don't be +teased by a little nonsense. All the fun that the boys can make out of +your name will not hurt you a bit." + +Harry was wise enough to do as his mother advised, and he found that she +was right. The boys soon became tired of their jokes, when they found +that no one was disturbed by them. But the little cousins were alway +good-naturedly called "Day and Night." + +AUNT WINNIE. + + + + +[Illustration: View from Cooper's Hill] + +VIEW FROM COOPER'S HILL. + + +When grandma was a little girl, she lived in England, where she was +born. She lived in the town of Windsor, twenty-three miles south-west of +London, the greatest city in the world. + +Grandma showed us, the other day, this picture of a view from Cooper's +Hill, near Windsor, and said, "Many a time and oft, dear children, have +I stood there by the old fence, and looked down on the beautiful +prospect,--the winding Thames, the gardens, the fields, and Windsor +Castle in the distance. + +"This noble structure was originally built by William the Conqueror, as +far back as the eleventh century. It has been embellished by most of the +succeeding kings and queens. It is the principal residence of Queen +Victoria in our day. The great park, not far distant, has a circuit of +eighteen miles; and west from the park is Windsor Forest, having a +circuit of fifty-six miles. + +"It is many a year since I saw these places. I cannot expect to visit +them again; but this picture brings them vividly before me. + +"And so, dear children, should you ever go to England, don't forget to +go to Cooper's Hill, and, for grandma's sake, to look round upon the +charming prospect which she loved so much when a child." + +E.W. + + + + +SATURDAY NIGHT. + + +Bring on the boots and shoes, Tommy; for this is Saturday night, and I +must make things clean for Sunday. + +Here is my old jacket, to begin with. Whack, whack, whack! As I beat it +with my stick, how the dust flies! + +The jacket looks a little the worse for wear; and that patch in the +elbow is more for show than use. But it is a good warm jacket still, and +mother says that next Christmas I shall have a new one. + +Whack, whack, whack! I wish Christmas was not so far off. If somebody +would make me a present now of a handsome new jacket, without a patch in +it, I should take it as an especial kindness. I do hate to wear patched +clothes. + +Stop there, Master Frank! You deserve to be beaten, instead of your +jacket. Look in the glass at your fat figure and rosy checks. Are you +not well fed and well taken care of? Is not good health better than fine +clothes? Are you the one to complain? + +Ah, Frank! Just look at poor Tim Morris, as he goes by in his carriage. +See his fine rich clothes, and his new glossy hat. But see, too, how +pale and thin he looks. How gladly would he put on your patched jacket, +and give you his new one, if he could have your health! + +[Illustration: Saturday Night] + +Whack, whack, whack! I'm an ungrateful boy. I'll not complain again. +Christmas may be as long as it pleases in coming. I'll tell mother she +mustn't pinch herself to buy me a new jacket. I'll tell her this one +will serve me a long time yet; that I have got used to it, and like it. +It will look almost as good as new when I get the dust out of it. Whack, +whack, whack! + +UNCLE CHARLES. + + + + +THE CUCKOO. + + +"Tell me what bird this is a picture of," said Arthur. + +"That," said Uncle Oscar, "is the cuckoo, a bird which arrives in +England, generally, about the middle of April, and departs late in June, +or early in July." + +"Why does it go so early?" asked Arthur. + +"Well, I think it is because it likes a warm climate; and, as soon as +autumn draws near, it wants to go back to the woods of Northern Africa." + +"Why is it called the cuckoo?" + +"Because the male bird utters a call-note which sounds just like the +word _kuk-oo_. In almost every language, this sound has suggested the +name of the bird. In Greek, it is _kokkux_; in Latin, _coccyx_; in +French, _coucou_; in German, _kukuk_." + +"What does the bird feed on?" asked Arthur. + +"It feeds on soft insects, hairy caterpillars, and tender fruits." + +"Where does it build its nest?" + +"The cuckoo, I am sorry to say, is not a very honest bird. Instead of +taking the trouble to build a nest for herself, the female bird lays her +eggs in the nest of other birds, and to them commits the care of +hatching and rearing her offspring." + +"I should not call that acting like a good parent," said Arthur. "Do the +other birds take care of these young ones that are not their own?" + +"Oh, yes! they not only take care of them and feed them for weeks, but +sometimes they even let the greedy young cuckoos push their own children +out of the nest." + +"That's a hard case," said Arthur. "Is there any American bird that acts +like the cuckoo?" + +[Illustration: The Cuckoo] + +"Oh, yes!" said Uncle Oscar. "There is a little bird called the +'cow-bunting,' about as large as a canary-bird: she, too, makes other +birds hatch her young and take care of them." + +"I don't like such lazy behavior. Did you ever hear the note of the +cuckoo?" said Arthur. + +"Oh, yes!" replied Uncle Oscar. "I have heard it in England; and there, +too, I have heard the skylark and the nightingale, neither of which +birds we have in America. But we have the mocking-bird, one of the most +wonderful of song-birds." + +"I wonder if the cuckoo would not live in America," said Arthur. "I +should like to get one and try it. I would take good care of it." + +"It would not thrive in this climate, Arthur." + +UNCLE OSCAR. + + + + +[Illustration: Work and Sing!] + +WORK AND SING! + + + You must work, and I must sing, + That's the way the birdies do: + See the workers on the wing; + See the idle singers too. + + Yet not wholly idle these, + They the toilers do not wrong; + For the weary heart they ease + With the rapture of their song. + + If our work of life to cheer + We no music had, no flowers, + Life would hardly seem so dear, + Longer then would drag the hours. + + Like the birdies let us be; + Let us not the singers chide; + There's a use in all we see: + Work and sing! the world is wide. + +EMILY CARTER. + + + + +[Illustration: One Year Old] + +ONE YEAR OLD. + + +Hold her up, mamma, and let us all have a look at her. Is she not a dear +little thing? + +She is not a bit afraid, but only puzzled at being stared at by so many +people. She does not know what to make of it. + +She clutches at her mother's chin, as much as to say, "Tell me what this +means." + +It means, baby, that you are one year old. This is your birthday, and +we have come to call on you. + +[Illustration: Nurse, Baby, & Cat] + +But here is Jane, the nurse. Has she come to take you away from us? We +are not ready to part with you. + +You want to go with her? Well, that is too bad! You like her better +than you do me. I must see what she does that makes you so fond of her. + +She takes you to the barn, and shows you the horse and the cow. Then she +lets you look out of the barn-window. There you spy the kitten. + +The kitten sees you, and jumps up on the basket, and looks in your face. +You put out your little hand, and try to reach her. + +Jane has the pig and the chickens to show you yet. But I cannot stay any +longer. I must leave you playing with the kitten. + +A. B. C. + + + + +[Illustration: My Dog] + +MY DOG. + + +I have a dog, and his name is Don. He is nine years old. His master is +in Boston, and I call Don my dog, because I like to have him here. He is +a black-and-white dog, and measures six feet in length, and about two +feet in height. + +When I go on errands, Don takes the basket or pail, and trots away to +the store; and sometimes I have to pull him, or he will go the wrong +way. + +He is a lazy old fellow, and he likes to sleep almost all the time, +except when he is asked if he wants to go anywhere; and then he frisks +around, and seems as if he had never been asleep. + +When he wants a drink, he goes around to the store-room door, and asks +for it by looking up in our faces; and I dare say he would say, if he +could speak, "Please give me a drink?" + +I have a little brother, and he sits on my dog a good deal. And I have a +cousin of whom the dog is very fond and when she is at the table, he +will put his paw on her lap, and want her to take it. + +My little baby-brother tumbles over the dog, and sits on him; and +sometimes when I am tired, I lie down and take a nap with my head on +Don's back. He likes to have me do it, and he always keeps watch while I +am asleep. + +LYNN, MASS. WILLIE B. MARSHALL. + + + + +MAY. + + + Pretty little violets, waking from your sleep, + Fragrant little blossoms, just about to peep, + Would you know the reason all the world is gay? + Listen to the bobolinks, telling you 'tis May! + + Little ferns and grasses, all so green and bright, + Purple clover nodding, daisies fresh and white, + Would you know the reason all the world is gay? + Listen to the bobolinks, telling you 'tis May! + + Darling little warblers, coming in the spring, + Would you know the reason that you love to sing? + Hear the merry children, shouting as they play, + "Listen to the bobolinks, telling us 'tis May!" + + + + +[Illustration: Dot and The Lemons] + +DOT AND THE LEMONS. + + +Dot's father is a funny man. One night, he brought home some lemons for +mamma,--twelve long, fat, yellow lemons, in a bag. Dot was sitting at +the piano with mamma when his father came in, and did not run, as usual, +to greet him with a kiss. So Dot's father opened the bag, and let the +lemons drop one by one, and roll all over the floor. + +Then Dot looked around, and cried, "Lemons, lemons! Get down; Dot get +down!" And he ran and picked up the lemons one by one, and put them all +together in the great black arm-chair. As he picked them up, he counted +them: "One, two, three, five, six, seven, nine, ten!" + +When Dot got tired of seeing them on the chair, he began to put them on +the floor again, one at a time, and all in one spot. While he was doing +this, his father stooped down, and when the little boy's back was +turned, took the lemons, slily from the spot where Dot was placing +them, and put them behind his own back,--some behind his right foot, and +some behind his left. + +He took only a few of them at first, so that Dot should not miss them. +But, when Dot came to put the last lemon on the floor, he could not see +any thing of the others, and was very much surprised. Then mamma, +grandmamma, and grandpapa all burst out laughing. His father stepped +aside, and there Dot saw the lemons in two rows. + +Then father said, "That was only a joke. Now, Dot, put them back again +on the chair--quick!" And Dot ran and began to take away the lemons from +the first row, and lay them on the black cushion of grandpapa's great +arm-chair, one by one. One--two--three--four--five: he had only one more +lemon to pick up from the first row; but when he came for it--my! there +were two. + +Well, to tell the truth, Dot didn't notice this at first. He picked up +one of the two, and thought to himself, "Only one left, Dot." But, I +declare! there were _two_ left when he came back. "This is a long row," +thought Dot. And every time he left _one_, he found _two_, till papa had +quite used up the second row, from which he had been filling up the +first. + +At last Dot _did_ see the last lemon, and then again he didn't see it, +for when he looked for it, it wasn't _two_, as before, it wasn't there +at all! + +"O papa! you have it behind you; and Dot will pull at your hand till you +give up the lemon; and then you can't play any more tricks with your +bright little boy." + +But Dot will go up to bed with Alice, and in the middle of the night +mamma will hear him saying in his sleep, "Five, six, nine, 'lemon!" For +Dot always says '_lemon,_ when he means _eleven_. + +G. + + + + +DADDY DANDELION. + + +Words by T. Hood. Music by T. Crampton + +[Music] + +_Allegretto. mf_ + + 1. + + Daddy Dandelion + Was a splendid fellow, + With a coat of green, + And a crest of yellow. + He had lots of gold, + He was very lazy; + So he chose to scold + Modest little Daisy. + + 2. + + Ah! you silly flower, + You're to me beholden, + To your best of power, + Aping me the golden. + Just then some one passed, + Who his stick was swinging, + Chopped off Dandelion, + Stopped his accents stinging. + + 4. + Daisy at the sight + Dropped a tear for sorrow, + Closed her leaves that night, + Opened on the morrow. + Gazing with delight + People, all of them, + Asked her where she found + Such a sparkling gem. + + + + + * * * * * + +[Box: Colgate & Co. New York] + + +VIOLET TOILET WATER. + +CASHMERE BOUQUET EXTRACT. + +CASHMERE BOUQUET Toilet Soap. + + +Good Commissions or valuable premiums are given to agents for three +first-class union religious papers and one agricultural monthly. +Canvassers are making excellent wages. Agents wanted. Send for sample +copy and terms. Address, + +H.A. KING, Box 2289, N.Y. City. + + * * * * * + +AN APRIL FOOL will not subscribe FOR THE RURAL HOME from April 4th to +January, but A WISE MAN will, since the subscription for that +period--THIRTY-NINE WEEKS--will cost him only + +ONE DOLLAR, POST-PAID. + +First-class, Eight-Page, Agricultural and Family Weekly--$2 a Year. + +Specimens free. Address + +THE RURAL HOME, Rochester, N.Y. + + * * * * * + +IN PRESS + +THE NURSERY PRIMER. + +A book by which children can teach themselves to read, with but little +help from parent or teacher. + +SUPERBLY AND APTLY ILLUSTRATED. + +The most beautiful Primer in the market. Containing upwards of a hundred +fine pictures. 96 Pages of the size of The Nursery. The word-system of +teaching explained and applied. + +JOHN L. 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