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diff --git a/25165-h/25165-h.htm b/25165-h/25165-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..47bea4f --- /dev/null +++ b/25165-h/25165-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1979 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Candy Country, by Louisa M. Alcott. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + + .notes {background-color: #f6c458; color: #000; padding: .5em; + margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 30%; text-align: center;} + + .txt { font-size: 120%; line-height: 1.3em; } + + .head {text-decoration: underline; font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; font-size: 2em;} + + .sml { text-align: center; font-size: smaller; } + + h1,h2,h3 { + 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;} + + .tdp {padding: 30px;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + background-color: #ffffd6; + } + + .box { width: 700px; + margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center; + padding: 1em; + border-style: none; } + + a {text-decoration: none; color: #a06f06; } + + .pagenum { visibility: hidden; + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; } + + .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;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Candy Country, by Louisa M. Alcott + +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 www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Candy Country + +Author: Louisa M. Alcott + +Release Date: April 25, 2008 [EBook #25165] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CANDY COUNTRY *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Anne Storer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain material +produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="notes">Transcriber’s Note: Table of Contents added.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<h1>THE CANDY COUNTRY</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>LOUISA M. ALCOTT</h2> + + +<p class="sml">AUTHOR OF “LITTLE WOMEN,” “LITTLE MEN,”<br /> +“AN OLD-FASHIONED GIRL,” “AUNT JO’S SCRAP-BAG,”<br /> +“LULU’S LIBRARY,” ETC.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 116px;"> +<img src="images/illus.jpg" width="116" height="30" alt="illustrated" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">BOSTON<br /> +LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p class="center"><em>Copyright, 1885,</em><br /> +<span class="smcap">By Louisa M. Alcott</span></p> + +<p class="center"><em>Copyright, 1900,</em><br /> +<span class="smcap">By John S. P. Alcott</span></p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 163px;"> +<img src="images/press.jpg" width="163" height="29" alt="University Press" title="" /> +</div> +<p style="margin-top: -.2em;" class="center"><span class="smcap">John Wilson and Son, Cambridge</span>, U.S.A.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p class="center"><a href="#Page_1"><strong>THE CANDY COUNTRY</strong></a></p> +<p class="center"><a href="#Page_27"><strong>HOW THEY RAN AWAY</strong></a></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;"> +<img src="images/img1.jpg" width="457" height="500" alt="image" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“Hollo, what do you want?” he asked, staring at her.<br /> +<a href="#Page_10"><span class="smcap">Page</span> 10.</a></span> +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<h2>THE CANDY COUNTRY</h2> + +<div class="box"> + +<p class="txt">“I shall take mamma’s red sun umbrella, it is so warm, and none of the +children at school will have one like it,” said Lily, one day, as she +went through the hall.</p> + +<p class="txt">“The wind is very high; I’m afraid you’ll be blown away if you carry +that big thing,” called Nurse from the window, as the red +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>umbrella went +bobbing down the garden walk with a small girl under it.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I wish it would; I always wanted to go up in a balloon,” answered Lily, +as she struggled out of the gate.</p> + +<p class="txt">She got on very well till she came to the bridge and stopped to look +over the railing at the water running by so fast, and the turtles +sunning themselves on the rocks. Lily was fond of throwing stones at +them; it was so funny to watch them tumble, heels over head, splash into +the water. Now, when she saw three big fellows close by, she stooped for +a stone, and just at that minute a gale of wind nearly took the umbrella +out of her hand. She clutched it fast; and away she went like a +thistle-down, right up in the air, over river and hill, houses and +trees, faster and faster, till her head spun round, her breath was all +gone, and she had to let go. The dear red umbrella flew away like a +leaf; and Lily fell down, down, till she went crash into a tree which +grew in such a curious place that she forgot her fright as she sat +looking about her, wondering what part of the world it could be.</p> + +<p class="txt">The tree looked as if made of glass or colored sugar; for she could see +through the red +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +cherries, the green leaves, and the brown branches. An +agreeable smell met her nose; and she said at once, as any child would, +“I smell candy!” She picked a cherry and ate it. Oh, how good it +was!—all sugar and no stone. The next discovery was such a delightful +one that she nearly fell off her perch; for by touching her tongue here +and there, she found that the whole tree was made of candy. Think what +fun to sit and break off twigs of barley sugar, candied cherries, and +leaves that tasted like peppermint and sassafras!</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily rocked and ate till she finished the top of the little tree; +then she climbed down and strolled along, making more surprising and +agreeable discoveries as she went.</p> + +<p class="txt">What looked like snow under her feet was white sugar; the rocks were +lumps of chocolate, the flowers of all colors and tastes; and every sort +of fruit grew on these delightful trees. Little white houses soon +appeared; and here lived the dainty candy-people, all made of the best +sugar, and painted to look like real people. Dear little men and women, +looking as if they had stepped off of wedding cakes and bonbons, went +about in their gay sugar clothes, laughing and talking in the sweetest +voices. Bits of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +babies rocked in open-work cradles, and sugar boys and +girls played with sugar toys in the most natural way. Carriages rolled +along the jujube streets, drawn by the red and yellow barley horses we +all love so well; cows fed in the green fields, and sugar birds sang in +the trees.</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily listened, and in a moment she understood what the song said,—</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 12em;" class="txt"> + <span style="margin-left: -.5em;">“Sweet! Sweet!</span><br /> + Come, come and eat,<br /> + Dear little girls<br /> + With yellow curls;<br /> + For here you’ll find<br /> + Sweets to your mind.<br /> + On every tree<br /> + Sugar-plums you’ll see;<br /> + In every dell<br /> + Grows the caramel.<br /> + Over every wall<br /> + Gum-drops fall;<br /> + Molasses flows<br /> + Where our river goes.<br /> + Under your feet<br /> + Lies sugar sweet;<br /> + Over your head<br /> + Grow almonds red.<br /> + Our lily and rose<br /> + Are not for the nose;<br /> + Our flowers we pluck<br /> + To eat or suck.<br /> + And, oh! what bliss<br /> + When two friends kiss,<br /> + For they honey sip<br /> + From lip to lip!<br /> + And all you meet,<br /> + In house or street,<br /> + At work or play,<br /> + Sweethearts are they.<br /> + So, little dear,<br /> + Pray feel no fear;<br /> + Go where you will;<br /> + Eat, eat your fill.<br /> + Here is a feast<br /> + From west to east;<br /> + And you can say,<br /> + Ere you go away,<br /> + ‘At last I stand<br /> + In dear Candy-land,<br /> + And no more can stuff;<br /> + For once I’ve enough.’<br /> + Sweet! Sweet!<br /> + Tweet! Tweet!<br /> + Tweedle-dee!<br /> + Tweedle-dee!”</p> + +<p class="txt">“That is the most interesting song I ever heard,” said Lily, clapping +her sticky hands and dancing along toward a fine palace of white cream +candy, with pillars of striped peppermint stick, and a roof of frosting +that made it look like the Milan Cathedral.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’ll live here, and eat candy all day long, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +with no tiresome school or +patchwork to spoil my fun,” said Lily.</p> + +<p class="txt">So she ran up the chocolate steps into the pretty rooms, where all the +chairs and tables were of different colored candies, and the beds of +spun sugar. A fountain of lemonade supplied drink; and floors of +ice-cream that never melted kept people and things from sticking +together, as they would have done had it been warm.</p> + +<p class="txt">For a long while Lily was quite happy, going about tasting so many +different kinds of sweeties, talking to the little people, who were very +amiable, and finding out curious things about them and their country.</p> + +<p class="txt">The babies were made of plain sugar, but the grown people had different +flavors. The young ladies were flavored with violet, rose, and orange; +the gentlemen were apt to have cordials of some sort inside of them, as +she found when she ate one now and then slyly, and got her tongue bitten +by the hot, strong taste as a punishment. The old people tasted of +peppermint, clove, and such comfortable things, good for pain; but the +old maids had lemon, hoar-hound, flag-root, and all sorts of sour, +bitter things in them, and did not get eaten much. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +Lily soon learned to +know the characters of her new friends by a single taste, and some she +never touched but once. The dear babies melted in her mouth, and the +delicately flavored young ladies she was very fond of. Dr. Ginger was +called to her more than once when so much candy made her teeth ache, and +she found him a very hot-tempered little man; but he stopped the pain, +so she was glad to see him.</p> + +<p class="txt">A lime-drop boy and a little pink checkerberry girl were her favorite +playmates; and they had fine times making mud-pies by scraping the +chocolate rocks and mixing this dust with honey from the wells near by. +These they could eat; and Lily thought this much better than throwing +away the pies, as she had to do at home. They had candy-pulls very +often, and made swings of long loops of molasses candy, and bird’s-nests +with almond eggs, out of which came birds who sang sweetly. They played +foot-ball with big bull’s-eyes, sailed in sugar boats on lakes of syrup, +fished in rivers of molasses, and rode the barley horses all over the +country.</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily discovered that it never rained, but snowed white sugar. There was +no sun, as it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +would have been too hot; but a large yellow lozenge made +a nice moon, and red and white comfits were the stars.</p> + +<p class="txt">The people all lived on sugar, and never quarrelled. No one was ill; and +if any got broken, as sometimes happened with such brittle creatures, +they just stuck the parts together and were all right again. The way +they grew old was to get thinner and thinner till there was danger of +their vanishing. Then the friends of the old person put him in a neat +coffin, and carried him to the great golden urn which stood in their +largest temple, always full of a certain fine syrup; and here he was +dipped and dipped till he was stout and strong again, and went home to +enjoy himself for a long time as good as new.</p> + +<p class="txt">This was very interesting to Lily, and she went to many funerals. But +the weddings were better still; for the lovely white brides were so +sweet Lily longed to eat them. The feasts were delicious; and everybody +went in their best clothes, and danced at the ball till they got so warm +half-a-dozen would stick together and have to be taken to the ice-cream +room to cool off. Then the little pair would drive away in a fine +carriage with white horses +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +to a new palace in some other part of the +country, and Lily would have another pleasant place to visit.</p> + +<p class="txt">But by and by, when she had seen everything, and eaten so much sweet +stuff that at last she longed for plain bread and butter, she began to +get cross, as children always do when they live on candy; and the little +people wished she would go away, for they were afraid of her. No wonder, +when she would catch up a dear sugar baby and eat him, or break some +respectable old grandmamma all into bits because she reproved her for +naughty ways. Lily calmly sat down on the biggest church, crushing it +flat, and even tried to poke the moon out of the sky in a pet one day. +The king ordered her to go home; but she said, “I won’t!” and bit his +head off, crown and all.</p> + +<p class="txt">Such a wail went up at this awful deed that she ran away out of the +city, fearing some one would put poison in her candy, since she had no +other food.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I suppose I shall get somewhere if I keep walking; and I can’t starve, +though I hate the sight of this horrid stuff,” she said to herself, as +she hurried over the mountains of Gibraltar Rock that divided the city +of Saccharissa from +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +the great desert of brown sugar that lay beyond.</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily marched bravely on for a long time, and saw at last a great smoke +in the sky, smelt a spicy smell, and felt a hot wind blowing toward her.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I wonder if there are sugar savages here, roasting and eating some poor +traveller like me,” she said, thinking of Robinson Crusoe and other +wanderers in strange lands.</p> + +<p class="txt">She crept carefully along till she saw a settlement of little huts very +like mushrooms, for they were made of cookies set on lumps of the brown +sugar; and queer people, looking as if made of gingerbread, were working +very busily round several stoves which seemed to bake at a great rate.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’ll creep nearer and see what sort of people they are before I show +myself,” said Lily, going into a grove of spice-trees, and sitting down +on a stone which proved to be the plummy sort of cake we used to call +Brighton Rock.</p> + +<p class="txt">Presently one of the tallest men came striding toward the trees with a +pan, evidently after spice; and before she could run, he saw Lily.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Hollo, what do you want?” he asked, staring at her with his black +currant eyes, while +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +he briskly picked the bark off a cinnamon-tree.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’m travelling, and would like to know what place this is, if you +please,” answered Lily, very politely, being a little frightened.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Cake-land. Where do you come from?” asked the gingerbread man, in a +crisp tone of voice.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I was blown into the Candy country, and have been there a long time; +but I got tired of it, and ran away to find something better.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Sensible child!” and the man smiled till Lily thought his cheeks would +crumble. “You’ll get on better here with us Brownies than with the lazy +Bonbons, who never work and are all for show. They won’t own us, though +we are all related through our grandparents Sugar and Molasses. We are +busy folks; so they turn up their noses and don’t speak when we meet at +parties. Poor creatures, silly and sweet and unsubstantial! I pity ’em.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Could I make you a visit? I’d like to see how you live, and what you +do. I’m sure it must be interesting,” said Lily, picking herself up +after a tumble, having eaten nearly all the stone, she was so hungry.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I know you will. Come on! I can talk +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +while I work.” And the funny +gingerbread man trotted off toward his kitchen, full of pans, +rolling-pins, and molasses jugs.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Sit down. I shall be at leisure as soon as this batch is baked. There +are still some wise people down below who like gingerbread, and I have +my hands full,” he said, dashing about, stirring, rolling out, and +slapping the brown dough into pans, which he whisked into the oven and +out again so fast that Lily knew there must be magic about it somewhere.</p> + +<p class="txt">Every now and then he threw her a delicious cooky warm from the oven. +She liked the queer fellow, and presently began to talk, being very +curious about this country.</p> + +<p class="txt">“What is your name, sir?”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Ginger Snap.”</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily thought it a good one; for he was very quick, and she fancied he +could be short and sharp if he liked.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Where does all this cake go to?” she asked, after watching the other +kitchens full of workers, who were all of different kinds of cake, and +each set of cooks made its own sort.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’ll show you by and by,” answered Snap, beginning to pile up the heaps +of gingerbread on a little car that ran along a track leading to some +unknown storeroom, Lily thought.</p> + +<p class="txt"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +“Don’t you get tired of doing this all the time?”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Yes; but I want to be promoted, and I never shall be till I’ve done my +best, and won the prize here.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Oh, tell me about it! What is the prize, and how are you promoted? Is +this a cooking-school?”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Yes; the prize for best gingerbread is a cake of condensed yeast. That +puts a soul into me, and I begin to rise till I am able to go over the +hills yonder into the blessed land of bread, and be one of the happy +creatures who are always wholesome, always needed, and without which the +world below would be in a bad way.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Bless me! that is the queerest thing I’ve heard yet. But I don’t wonder +you want to go; I’m tired of sweets myself, and long for a good piece of +bread, though I used to want cake and candy at home.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Ah, my dear, you’ll learn a good deal here; and you are lucky not to +have got into the clutches of Giant Dyspepsia, who always gets people if +they eat too much of such rubbish and scorn wholesome bread. I leave my +ginger behind when I go, and get white and round +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +and beautiful, as you +will see. The Gingerbread family have never been as foolish as some of +the other cakes. Wedding is the worst; such extravagance in the way of +wine and spice and fruit I never saw, and such a mess to eat when it’s +done! I don’t wonder people get sick; serves ’em right.” And Snap flung +down a pan with such a bang that it made Lily jump.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Sponge cake isn’t bad, is it? Mamma lets me eat it, but I like frosted +pound better,” she said, looking over to the next kitchen, where piles +of that sort of cake were being iced.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Poor stuff. No substance. Ladies’ fingers will do for babies, but pound +has too much butter ever to be healthy. Let it alone, and eat cookies or +seed-cakes, my dear. Now, come along; I’m ready.” And Snap trundled away +his car-load at a great pace.</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily ran behind to pick up whatever fell, and looked about her as she +went, for this was certainly a very queer country. Lakes of eggs all +beaten up, and hot springs of saleratus foamed here and there ready for +use. The earth was brown sugar or ground spice; and the only fruits were +raisins, dried currants, citron, and lemon peel. It was a very busy +place; for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +every one cooked all the time, and never failed and never +seemed tired, though they got so hot that they only wore sheets of paper +for clothes. There were piles of it to put over the cake, so that it +shouldn’t burn; and they made cook’s white caps and aprons of it, and +looked very nice. A large clock made of a flat pancake, with cloves to +mark the hours and two toothpicks for hands, showed them how long to +bake things; and in one place an ice wall was built round a lake of +butter, which they cut in lumps as they wanted it.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Here we are. Now, stand away while I pitch ’em down,” said Snap, +stopping at last before a hole in the ground where a dumb-waiter hung +ready, with a name over it.</p> + +<p class="txt">There were many holes all round, and many waiters, each with its name; +and Lily was amazed when she read “Weber,” “Copeland,” “Dooling,” and +others, which she knew very well.</p> + +<p class="txt">Over Snap’s place was the name “Newmarch;” and Lily said, “Why, that’s +where mamma gets her hard gingerbread, and Weber’s is where we go for +ice-cream. Do <em>you</em> make cake for them?”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Yes, but no one knows it. It’s one of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +secrets of the trade. We +cook for all the confectioners, and people think the good things come +out of the cellars under their saloons. Good joke, isn’t it?” And Snap +laughed till a crack came in his neck and made him cough.</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily was so surprised she sat down on a warm queen’s cake that happened +to be near, and watched Snap send down load after load of gingerbread to +be eaten by children, who would have liked it much better if they had +only known where it came from, as she did.</p> + +<p class="txt">As she sat, the clatter of many spoons, the smell of many dinners, and +the sound of many voices calling, “One vanilla, two strawberries, and a +Charlotte Russe,” “Three stews, cup coffee, dry toast,” “Roast chicken +and apple without,” came up the next hole, which was marked “Copeland.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Dear me! it seems as if I was there,” said Lily, longing to hop down, +but afraid of the bump at the other end.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’m done. Come along, I’ll ride you back,” called Snap, tossing the +last cooky after the dumb-waiter as it went slowly out of sight with its +spicy load.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I wish you’d teach me to cook. It looks great fun, and mamma wants me +to learn; only +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +our cook hates to have me mess round, and is so cross +that I don’t like to try at home,” said Lily, as she went trundling +back.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Better wait till you get to Bread-land, and learn to make that. It’s a +great art, and worth knowing. Don’t waste your time on cake, though +plain gingerbread isn’t bad to have in the house. I’ll teach you that in +a jiffy, if the clock doesn’t strike my hour too soon,” answered Snap, +helping her down.</p> + +<p class="txt">“What hour?”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Why, of my freedom. I never know when I’ve done my task till I’m called +by the chimes and go to get my soul,” said Snap, turning his currant +eyes anxiously to the clock.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I hope you <em>will</em> have time.” And Lily fell to work with all her +might, after Snap had put on her a paper apron and a cap like his.</p> + +<p class="txt">It was not hard; for when she was going to make a mistake a spark flew +out of the fire and burnt her in time to remind her to look at the +receipt, which was a sheet of gingerbread in a frame of pie-crust hung +up before her, with the directions written while it was soft and baked +in. The third sheet she made came out of the oven spicy, light, and +brown; and Snap, giving it one poke, said, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +“That’s all right. Now you +know. Here’s your reward.”</p> + +<p class="txt">He handed her a receipt-book made of thin sheets of sugar-gingerbread +held together by a gelatine binding, with her name stamped on the back, +and each leaf crimped with a cake-cutter in the most elegant manner.</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily was charmed with it, but had no time to read all it contained; for +just then the clock began to strike, and a chime of bells to ring,—</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 12em;" class="txt"> + <span style="margin-left: -.5em;">“Gingerbread,</span><br /> + Go to the head.<br /> + Your task is done;<br /> + A soul is won.<br /> + Take it and go<br /> + Where muffins grow,<br /> + Where sweet loaves rise<br /> + To the very skies,<br /> + And biscuits fair<br /> + Perfume the air.<br /> + Away, away!<br /> + Make no delay;<br /> + In the sea of flour<br /> + Plunge this hour.<br /> + Safe in your breast<br /> + Let the yeast-cake rest,<br /> + Till you rise in joy,<br /> + A white bread boy!”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Ha, ha! I’m free! I’m free!” cried Snap, catching up the silver-covered +square that seemed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +to fall from heaven; and running to a great white +sea of flour, he went in head first, holding the yeast-cake clasped to +his breast as if his life depended on it.</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily watched breathlessly, while a curious working and bubbling went on, +as if Snap was tumbling about down there, like a small earthquake. The +other cake-folk stood round the shore with her; for it was a great +event, and all were glad that the dear fellow was promoted so soon. +Suddenly a cry was heard, and up rose a beautiful white figure on the +farther side of the sea. It moved its hand, as if saying “Good-by,” and +ran over the hills so fast they had only time to see how plump and fair +he was, with a little knob on the top of his head like a crown.</p> + +<p class="txt">“He’s gone to the happy land, and we shall miss him; but we’ll follow +his example and soon find him again,” said a gentle Sponge Cake, with a +sigh, as all went back to their work; while Lily hurried after Snap, +eager to see the new country, which was the best of all.</p> + +<p class="txt">A delicious odor of fresh bread blew up from the valley as she stood on +the hill-top and looked down on the peaceful scene below. Fields of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +yellow grain waved in the breeze; hop-vines grew from tree to tree, and +many windmills whirled their white sails as they ground the different +grains into fresh, sweet meal, for the loaves of bread that built the +houses like bricks and paved the streets, or in many shapes formed the +people, furniture, and animals. A river of milk flowed through the +peaceful land, and fountains of yeast rose and fell with a pleasant foam +and fizz. The ground was a mixture of many meals, and the paths were +golden Indian, which gave a very gay look to the scene. Buckwheat +flowers bloomed on their rosy stems, and tall corn-stalks rustled their +leaves in the warm air that came from the ovens hidden in the hillsides; +for bread needs a slow fire, and an obliging volcano did the baking +here.</p> + +<p class="txt">“What a lovely place!” cried Lily, feeling the charm of the homelike +landscape, in spite of the funny plump people moving about.</p> + +<p class="txt">Two of these figures came running to meet her as she slowly walked down +the yellow path from the hill. One was a golden boy, with a beaming +face; the other a little girl in a shiny brown cloak, who looked as if +she would taste very nice. They each put a warm hand into Lily’s, and +the boy said,—</p> + +<p class="txt"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +“We are glad to see you. Muffin told us you were coming.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Thank you. Who is Muffin?” asked Lily, feeling as if she had seen both +these little people before, and liked them.</p> + +<p class="txt">“He was Ginger Snap once, but he’s a Muffin now. We begin in that way, +and work up to the perfect loaf by degrees. My name is Johnny Cake, and +she’s Sally Lunn. You know us; so come on and have a race.”</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily burst out laughing at the idea of playing with these old friends of +hers; and all three ran away as fast as they could tear, down the hill, +over a bridge, into the middle of the village, where they stopped, +panting, and sat down on some very soft rolls to rest.</p> + +<p class="txt">“What do you all do <em>here</em>?” asked Lily, when she got her breath again.</p> + +<p class="txt">“We farm, we study, we bake, we brew, and are as merry as grigs all day +long. It’s school-time now, and we must go; will you come?” said Sally, +jumping up as if she liked it.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Our schools are not like yours; we only study two things,—grain and +yeast. I think you’ll like it. We have yeast to-day, and the experiments +are very jolly,” added Johnny, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +trotting off to a tall brown tower of +rye and Indian bread, where the school was kept.</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily never liked to go to school, but she was ashamed to own it; so she +went along with Sally, and was so amused with all she saw that she was +glad she came. The brown loaf was hollow, and had no roof; and when she +asked why they used a ruin, Sally told her to wait and see why they +chose strong walls and plenty of room overhead. All round was a circle +of very small biscuits like cushions, and on these the Bread-children +sat. A square loaf in the middle was the teacher’s desk, and on it lay +an ear of wheat, with several bottles of yeast well corked up. The +teacher was a pleasant, plump lady from Vienna, very wise, and so famous +for her good bread that she was a Professor of Grainology.</p> + +<p class="txt">When all were seated, she began with the wheat ear, and told them all +about it in such an interesting way that Lily felt as if she had never +known anything about the bread she ate before. The experiments with the +yeast were quite exciting,—for Fräulein Pretzel showed them how it +would work till it blew the cork out, and go fizzing up to the sky if it +was kept too long; how it would turn sour or flat, and spoil the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> bread +if care was not taken to use it just at the right moment; and how too +much would cause the loaf to rise till there was no substance to it.</p> + +<p class="txt">The children were very bright; for they were fed on the best kinds of +oatmeal and Graham bread, with very little white bread or hot cakes to +spoil their young stomachs. Hearty, happy boys and girls they were, and +their yeasty souls were very lively in them; for they danced and sang, +and seemed as bright and gay as if acidity, heaviness, and mould were +quite unknown.</p> + +<p class="txt">Lily was very happy with them, and when school was done went home with +Sally and ate the best bread and milk for dinner that she ever tasted. +In the afternoon Johnny took her to the cornfield, and showed her how +they kept the growing ears free from mildew and worms. Then she went to +the bakehouse; and here she found her old friend Muffin hard at work +making Parker House rolls, for he was such a good cook he was set to +work at once on the lighter kinds of bread.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Well, isn’t this better than Candy-land or Saccharissa?” he asked, as +he rolled and folded his bits of dough with a dab of butter tucked +inside.</p> + +<p class="txt"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +“Ever so much!” cried Lily. “I feel better already, and mean to learn +all I can. Mamma will be so pleased if I can make good bread when I go +home. She is rather old-fashioned, and likes me to be a nice +housekeeper. I didn’t think bread interesting then, but I do now; and +Johnny’s mother is going to teach me to make Indian cakes to-morrow.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Glad to hear it. Learn all you can, and tell other people how to make +healthy bodies and happy souls by eating good plain food. Not like this, +though these rolls are better than cake. I have to work my way up to the +perfect loaf, you know; and then, oh, then, I’m a happy thing.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“What happens then? Do you go on to some other wonderful place?” asked +Lily, as Muffin paused with a smile on his face.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Yes; I am eaten by some wise, good human being, and become a part of +him or her. That is immortality and heaven; for I may nourish a poet and +help him sing, or feed a good woman who makes the world better for being +in it, or be crumbed into the golden porringer of a baby prince who is +to rule a kingdom. Isn’t that a noble way to live, and an end worth +working for?” asked Muffin, in a tone that made Lily +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +feel as if some +sort of fine yeast had got into her, and was setting her brain to work +with new thoughts.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Yes, it is. I suppose all common things are made for that purpose, if +we only knew it; and people should be glad to do anything to help the +world along, even making good bread in a kitchen,” answered Lily, in a +sober way that showed that her little mind was already digesting the new +food it had got.</p> + +<p class="txt">She stayed in Bread-land a long time, and enjoyed and learned a great +deal that she never forgot. But at last, when she had made the perfect +loaf, she wanted to go home, that her mother might see and taste it.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’ve put a good deal of myself into it, and I’d love to think I had +given her strength or pleasure by my work,” she said, as she and Sally +stood looking at the handsome loaf.</p> + +<p class="txt">“You can go whenever you like; just take the bread in your hands and +wish three times, and you’ll be wherever you say. I’m sorry to have you +go, but I don’t wonder you want to see your mother. Don’t forget what +you have learned, and you will always be glad you came to us,” said +Sally, kissing her good-by.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Where is Muffin? I can’t go without +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +seeing him, my dear old friend,” answered Lily, looking round for him.</p> + +<p class="txt">“He is here,” said Sally, touching the loaf. “He was ready to go, and +chose to pass into your bread rather than any other, for he said he +loved you and would be glad to help feed so good a little girl.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“How kind of him! I must be careful to grow wise and excellent, else he +will be disappointed and have died in vain,” said Lily, touched by his +devotion.</p> + +<p class="txt">Then, bidding them all farewell, she hugged her loaf close, wished three +times to be in her own home, and like a flash she was there.</p> + +<p class="txt">Whether her friends believed the wonderful tale of her adventures I +cannot tell; but I know that she was a nice little housekeeper from that +day, and made such good bread that other girls came to learn of her. She +also grew from a sickly, fretful child into a fine, strong woman, +because she ate very little cake and candy, except at Christmas time, +when the oldest and the wisest love to make a short visit to +Candy-land.</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;"> +<img src="images/img2.jpg" width="457" height="500" alt="image" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Poor Billy dangling from a bough, high above the ground.<br /> +<a href="#Page_43"><span class="smcap">Page</span> 43.</a></span> +</div> + + +<p> </p> + +<h2>HOW THEY RAN AWAY</h2> + +<div class="box"> + +<p class="txt">Two little boys sat on the fence whittling arrows one fine day. Said one +little boy to the other little boy,—</p> + +<p class="txt">“Let’s do something jolly.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“All right. What will we do?”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Run off to the woods and be hunters.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“What can we hunt?”</p> + +<p class="txt"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +“Bears and foxes.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Mullin says there ain’t any round here.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Well, we can shoot squirrels and snare woodchucks.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Haven’t got any guns and trap.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“We’ve got our bows, and I found an old trap behind the barn.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“What will we eat?”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Here’s our lunch; and when that’s gone we can roast the squirrels and +cook the fish on a stick. I know how.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Where will you get the fire?”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Got matches in my pocket.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’ve got a lot of things we could use. Let’s see.”</p> + +<p class="txt">And as if satisfied at last, cautious Billy displayed his treasures, +while bold Tommy did the same.</p> + +<p class="txt">Besides the two knives there were strings, nails, matches, a piece of +putty, fish-hooks, and two very dirty handkerchiefs.</p> + +<p class="txt">“There, sir, that’s a first-rate fit-out for hunters; and with the jolly +basket of lunch Mrs. Mullin gave us, we can get on tip-top for two or +three days,” said Tommy, eager to be off.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Where shall we sleep?” asked Billy, who liked to be comfortable both +night and day.</p> + +<p class="txt"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +“Oh, up in trees or on beds of leaves, like the fellows in our books. If +you are afraid, stay at home; I’m going to have no end of a good time.” +And Tommy crammed the things back into his pockets as if there were no +time to lose.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Pooh! I ain’t afraid. Come on!” And jumping down Billy caught up his +rod, rather ashamed of his many questions.</p> + +<p class="txt">No one was looking at them, and they might have walked quietly off; but +that the “running away” might be all right, both raced down the road, +tumbled over a wall, and dashed into the woods as if a whole tribe of +wild Indians were after them.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Do you know the way?” panted Billy, when at last they stopped for +breath.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Yes, it winds right up the mountain; but we’d better not keep to it, or +some one will see us and take us back. We are going to be <em>real</em> hunters +and have adventures; so we must get lost, and find our way by the sun +and the stars,” answered Tommy, who had read so many Boys’ Books his +little head was a jumble of Texan Rangers, African Explorers, and +Buffalo Bills; and he burned to outdo them all.</p> + +<p class="txt">“What will our mothers say if we really +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +get lost?” asked Billy, always ready with a question.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Mine won’t fuss. She lets me do what I like.”</p> + +<p class="txt">That was true; for Tommy’s poor mamma was tired of trying to keep the +lively little fellow in order, and had got used to seeing him come out +of all his scrapes without much harm.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Mine will be scared; she’s always afraid I’m going to get hurt, so I’m +careful. But I guess I’ll risk it, and have some fun to tell about when +we go home,” said Billy, trudging after Captain Tommy, who always took +the lead.</p> + +<p class="txt">These eleven-year-old boys were staying with their mothers at a +farm-house up among the mountains; and having got tired of the tame +bears, the big barn, the trout brook, the thirty colts at pasture, and +the society of the few little girls and younger boys at the hotel near +by, these fine fellows longed to break loose and “rough it in the bush,” +as the hunters did in their favorite stories.</p> + +<p class="txt">Away they went, deeper and deeper into the great forest that covered the +side of the mountain. A pleasant place that August day; for it was cool +and green, with many brooks splashing over the rocks, or lying in brown pools +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +under the ferns. Squirrels chattered and raced in the tall pines; +now and then a gray rabbit skipped out of sight among the brakes, or a +strange bird flew by. Here and there blackberries grew in the open +places, sassafras bushes were plentiful, and black-birch bark was ready +for chewing.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Don’t you call this nice?” asked Tommy, pausing at last in a little +dell where a noisy brook came tumbling down the mountain side, and the +pines sung overhead.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Yes; but I’m awful hungry. Let’s rest and eat our lunch,” said Billy, +sitting down on a cushion of moss.</p> + +<p class="txt">“You always want to be stuffing and resting,” answered sturdy Tommy, who +liked to be moving all the time.</p> + +<p class="txt">He took the fishing-basket, which hung over his shoulder by a strap, and +opened it carefully; for good Mrs. Mullin had packed a nice lunch of +bread and butter, cake and peaches, with a bottle of milk, and two large +pickles slipped in on the sly to please the boys.</p> + +<p class="txt">Tommy’s face grew very sober as he looked in, for all he saw was a box +of worms for bait and an old jacket.</p> + +<p class="txt">“By George! we’ve got the wrong basket. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +This is Mullin’s, and he’s gone off with our prog. Won’t he be mad?”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Not as mad as I am. Why didn’t you look? You are always in such a hurry +to start. What <em>shall</em> we do now without anything to eat?” whined Billy; +for losing his lunch was a dreadful blow to him.</p> + +<p class="txt">“We shall have to catch some fish and eat blackberries. Which will you +do, old cry-baby?” said Tommy, laughing at the other boy’s dismal face.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’ll fish; I’m so tired I can’t go scratching round after berries. I +don’t love ’em either.” And Billy began to fix his line and bait his +hook.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Lucky we got the worms; you can eat ’em if you can’t wait for fish,” +said Tommy, bustling about to empty the basket and pile up their few +possessions in a heap. “There’s a quiet pool below here, you go and fish +there. I’ll pick the berries, and then show you how to get dinner in the +woods. This is our camp; so fly round and do your best.”</p> + +<p class="txt">Then Tommy ran off to a place near by where he had seen the berries, +while Billy found a comfortable nook by the pool, and sat scowling at +the water so crossly, it was a wonder +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +any trout came to his hook. But +the fat worms tempted several small ones, and he cheered up at the +prospect of food. Tommy whistled while he picked, and in half an hour +came back with two quarts of nice berries and an armful of dry sticks +for the fire.</p> + +<p class="txt">“We’ll have a jolly dinner, after all,” he said, as the flames went +crackling up, and the dry leaves made a pleasant smell.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Got four, but don’t see how we’ll ever cook ’em; no frying-pan,” +grumbled Billy, throwing down the four little trout, which he had half +cleaned.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Don’t want any. Broil ’em on the coals, or toast ’em on a forked stick. +I’ll show you how,” said cheerful Tommy, whittling away, and feeding his +fire as much like a real hunter as a small boy could be.</p> + +<p class="txt">While he worked, Billy ate berries and sighed for bread and butter. At +last, after much trouble, two of the trout were half cooked and eagerly +eaten by the hungry boys. But they were very different from the nice +brown ones Mrs. Mullin gave them; for in spite of Tommy’s struggles they +would fall in the ashes, and there was no salt to eat with them. By the +time the last were toasted, the young hunters were so hungry they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> could +have eaten anything, and not a berry was left.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I set the trap down there, for I saw a hole among the vines, and I +shouldn’t wonder if we got a rabbit or something,” said Tommy, when the +last bone was polished. “You go and catch some more fish, and I’ll see +if I have caught any old chap as he went home to dinner.”</p> + +<p class="txt">Off ran Tommy; and the other boy went slowly back to the brook, wishing +with all his might he was at home eating sweet corn and berry pie.</p> + +<p class="txt">The trout had evidently gone to their dinners, for not one bite did poor +Billy get; and he was just falling asleep when a loud shout gave him +such a fright that he tumbled into the brook up to his knees.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’ve got him! Come and see! He’s a bouncer,” roared Tommy, from the +berry bushes some way off.</p> + +<p class="txt">Billy scrambled out, and went as fast as his wet boots would let him, to +see what the prize was. He found Tommy dancing wildly round a fat gray +animal, who was fighting to get his paws out of the trap, and making a +queer noise as he struggled about.</p> + +<p class="txt">“What is it?” asked Billy, getting behind a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> tree as fast as possible; +for the thing looked fierce, and he was very timid.</p> + +<p class="txt">“A raccoon, I guess, or a big woodchuck. Won’t his fur make a fine cap? +I guess the other fellows will wish they’d come with us,” said Tommy, +prancing to and fro, without the least idea what to do with the +creature.</p> + +<p class="txt">“He’ll bite. We’d better run away and wait till he’s dead,” said Billy.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Wish he’d got his head in, then I could carry him off; but he does look +savage, so we’ll have to leave him awhile, and get him when we come +back. But he’s a real beauty.” And Tommy looked proudly at the bunch of +gray fur scuffling in the sand.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Can we ever eat him?” asked hungry Billy, ready for a fried crocodile +if he could get it.</p> + +<p class="txt">“If he’s a raccoon, we can; but I don’t know about woodchucks. The +fellows in my books don’t seem to have caught any. He’s nice and fat; we +might try him when he’s dead,” said Tommy, who cared more for the skin +to show than the best meal ever cooked.</p> + +<p class="txt">The sound of a gun echoing through the wood gave Tommy a good idea,—</p> + +<p class="txt">“Let’s find the man and get him to shoot this +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +chap; then we needn’t wait, but skin him right away, and eat him too.”</p> + +<p class="txt">Off they went to the camp; and catching up their things, the two hunters +hurried away in the direction of the sound, feeling glad to know that +some one was near them, for two or three hours of wood life made them a +little homesick.</p> + +<p class="txt">They ran and scrambled, and listened and called; but not until they had +gone a long way up the mountain did they find the man, resting in an old +hut left by the lumbermen. The remains of his dinner were spread on the +floor, and he lay smoking, and reading a newspaper, while his dog dozed +at his feet, close to a well-filled game-bag.</p> + +<p class="txt">He looked surprised when two dirty, wet little boys suddenly appeared +before him,—one grinning cheerfully, the other looking very dismal and +scared as the dog growled and glared at them as if they were two +rabbits.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Hollo!” said the man.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Hollo!” answered Tommy.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Who are you?” asked the man.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Hunters,” said Tommy.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Had good luck?” And the man laughed.</p> + +<p class="txt">“First-rate. Got a raccoon in our trap, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +we want you to come and shoot him,” answered Tommy, proudly.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Sure?” said the man, looking interested as well as amused.</p> + +<p class="txt">“No; but I think so.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“What’s he like?”</p> + +<p class="txt">Tommy described him, and was much disappointed when the man lay down +again, saying, with another laugh,—</p> + +<p class="txt">“It’s a woodchuck; he’s no good.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“But I want the skin.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Then don’t shoot him, let him die; that’s better for the skin,” said +the man, who was tired and didn’t want to stop for such poor game.</p> + +<p class="txt">All this time Billy had been staring hard at the sandwiches and bread +and cheese on the floor, and sniffing at them, as the dog sniffed at +him.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Want some grub?” asked the man, seeing the hungry look.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I just do! We left our lunch, and I’ve only had two little trout and +some old berries since breakfast,” answered Billy, with tears in his +eyes and a hand on his stomach.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Eat away then; I’m done, and don’t want the stuff.” And the man took up +his paper as if glad to be let alone.</p> + +<p class="txt"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +It was lucky that the dog had been fed, for in ten minutes nothing was +left but the napkin; and the boys sat picking up the crumbs, much +refreshed, but ready for more.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Better be going home, my lads; it’s pretty cold on the mountain after +sunset, and you are a long way from town,” said the man, who had peeped +at them over his paper now and then, and saw, in spite of the dirt and +rips, that they were not farmer boys.</p> + +<p class="txt">“We don’t live in town; we are at Mullin’s, in the valley. No hurry; we +know the way, and we want to have some sport first. You seem to have +done well,” answered Tommy, looking enviously from the gun to the +game-bag, out of which hung a rabbit’s head and a squirrel’s tail.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Pretty fair; but I want a shot at the bear. People tell me there is one +up here, and I’m after him; for he kills the sheep, and might hurt some +of the young folks round here,” said the man, loading his gun with a +very sober air; for he wanted to get rid of the boys and send them home.</p> + +<p class="txt">Billy looked alarmed; but Tommy’s brown face beamed with joy as he said +eagerly,—</p> + +<p class="txt">“I hope you’ll get him. I’d rather shoot a bear than any other animal +but a lion. We don’t<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> have those here, and bears are scarce. Mullin said +he hadn’t heard of one for a long time; so this must be a young one, for +they killed the big one two years ago.”</p> + +<p class="txt">That was true, and the man knew it. He did not really expect or want to +meet a bear, but thought the idea of one would send the little fellows +home at once. Finding one of them was unscared, he laughed, and said +with a nod to Tommy,—</p> + +<p class="txt">“If I had time I’d take <em>you</em> along, and show you how to hunt; but this +fat friend of yours couldn’t rough it with us, and we can’t leave him +alone; so go ahead your own way. Only I wouldn’t climb any higher, for +among the rocks you are sure to get hurt or lost.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“Oh, I say, let’s go! Such fun, Billy! I know you’ll like it. A real gun +and dog and hunter! Come on, and don’t be a molly-coddle,” cried Tommy, +wild to go.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I won’t! I’m tired, and I’m going home; you can go after your old bears +if you want to. I don’t think much of hunting anyway, and wish I hadn’t +come,” growled Billy, very cross at being left out, yet with no desire +to scramble any more.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Can’t stop. Good-by. Get along home, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +some day I’ll come and take +you out with me, little Leatherstocking,” said the man, striding off +with the dear gun and dog and bag, leaving Billy to wonder what he meant +by that queer name, and Tommy to console himself with the promise made +him.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Let’s go and see how old Chucky gets on,” he said good-naturedly, when +the man vanished.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Not till I’m rested. I can get a good nap on this pile of hay; then +we’ll go home before it’s late,” answered lazy Billy, settling himself +on the rough bed the lumbermen had used.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I just wish I had a boy with some go in him; you ain’t much better than +a girl,” sighed Tommy, walking off to a pine-tree where some squirrels +seemed to be having a party, they chattered and raced up and down at +such a rate.</p> + +<p class="txt">He tried his bow and shot all his arrows many times in vain, for the +lively creatures gave him no chance. He had better luck with a brown +bird who sat in a bush and was hit full in the breast with the sharpest +arrow. The poor thing fluttered and fell, and its blood wet the green +leaves as it lay dying on the grass. Tommy was much pleased at first; +but as he stood watching its bright eye grow dim and its pretty +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> brown +wings stop fluttering, he felt sorry that its happy little life was so +cruelly ended, and ashamed that his thoughtless fun had given so much +pain.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’ll never shoot another bird except hawks after chickens, and I won’t +brag about this one. It was so tame, and trusted me, I was very mean to +kill it.”</p> + +<p class="txt">As he thought this, Tommy smoothed the ruffled feathers of the dead +thrush, and, making a little grave under the pine, buried it wrapped in +green leaves, and left it there where its mate could sing over it, and +no rude hands disturb its rest.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I’ll tell mamma and she will understand; but I <em>won’t</em> tell Billy. He +is such a greedy old chap he’ll say I ought to have kept the poor bird +to eat,” thought Tommy, as he went back to the hut, and sat there, +restringing his bow, till Billy woke up, much more amiable for his +sleep.</p> + +<p class="txt">They tried to find the woodchuck, but lost their way, and wandered +deeper into the great forest till they came to a rocky place and could +go no farther. They climbed up and tumbled down, turned back and went +round, looked at the sun and knew it was late, chewed sassafras +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> bark +and checkerberry leaves for supper, and grew more and more worried and +tired as hour after hour went by and they saw no end to woods and rocks. +Once or twice they heard the hunter’s gun far away, and called and tried +to find him.</p> + +<p class="txt">Tommy scolded Billy for not going with the man, who knew his way and was +probably safe in the valley when the last faint shot came up to them. +Billy cried, and reproached Tommy for proposing to run away; and both +felt very homesick for their mothers and their good safe beds at Farmer +Mullin’s.</p> + +<p class="txt">The sun set, and found them in a dreary place full of rocks and blasted +trees half-way up the mountain. They were so tired they could hardly +walk, and longed to lie down anywhere to sleep; but, remembering the +hunter’s story of the bear, they were afraid to do it, till Tommy +suggested climbing a tree, after making a fire at the foot of it to +scare away the bear, lest he climb too and get them.</p> + +<p class="txt">But, alas! the matches were left in their first camp; so they decided to +take turns to sleep and watch, since it was plain that they must spend +the night there. Billy went up first, and creeping into a good notch of +the bare tree tried +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +to sleep, while brave Tommy, armed with a big +stick, marched to and fro below. Every few minutes a trembling voice +would call from above, “Is anything coming?” and an anxious voice would +answer from below, “Not yet. Hurry up and go to sleep! I want my turn.”</p> + +<p class="txt">At last Billy began to snore, and then Tommy felt so lonely he couldn’t +bear it; so he climbed to a lower branch, and sat nodding and trying to +keep watch, till he too fell fast asleep, and the early moon saw the +poor boys roosting there like two little owls.</p> + +<p class="txt">A loud cry, a scrambling overhead, and then a great shaking and howling +waked Tommy so suddenly that he lost his wits for a moment and did not +know where he was.</p> + +<p class="txt">“The bear! the bear! don’t let him get me! Tommy, Tommy, come and make +him let go,” cried Billy, filling the quiet night with dismal howls.</p> + +<p class="txt">Tommy looked up, expecting to behold a large bear eating his unhappy +friend; but the moonlight showed him nothing but poor Billy dangling +from a bough, high above the ground, caught by his belt when he fell. He +had been dreaming of bears, and rolled off his perch; so there he hung, +kicking and wailing, half awake, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +and so scared it was long before Tommy +could make him believe that he was quite safe.</p> + +<p class="txt">How to get him down was the next question. The branch was not strong +enough to bear Tommy, though he climbed up and tried to unhook poor +Billy. The belt was firmly twisted at the back, and Billy could not +reach to undo it, nor could he get his legs round the branch to pull +himself up. There seemed no way but to unbuckle the belt and drop. That +he was afraid to try; for the ground was hard, and the fall a high one. +Fortunately both belt and buckle were strong; so he hung safely, though +very uncomfortably, while Tommy racked his boyish brain to find a way to +help him.</p> + +<p class="txt">Billy had just declared that he should be cut in two very soon if +something was not done for him, and Tommy was in despair, when they +thought they heard a far-off shout, and both answered it till their +throats were nearly split with screaming.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I seem to see a light moving round down that way,” cried Billy from his +hook, pointing toward the valley.</p> + +<p class="txt">“They are looking for us, but they won’t hear us. I’ll run and holler +louder, and bring ’em up here,” answered Tommy, glad to do +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>anything +that would put an end to this dreadful state of things.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Don’t leave me! I may fall and be killed! The bear might come! Don’t +go! don’t go!” wailed Billy, longing to drop, but afraid.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I won’t go far, and I’ll come back as quick as I can. You are safe up +there. Hold on, and we’ll soon get you down,” answered Tommy, rushing +away helter-skelter, never minding where he went, and too much excited +to care for any damage.</p> + +<p class="txt">The moon was bright on the blasted trees; but when he came down among +the green pines, it grew dark, and he often stumbled and fell. Never +minding bumps and bruises, he scrambled over rocks, leaped fallen +trunks, floundered through brooks, and climbed down steep places, till, +with a reckless jump, he went heels over head into a deep hole, and lay +there for a moment stunned by the fall. It was an old bear-trap, long +unused, and fortunately well carpeted with dead leaves, or poor Tommy +would have broken his bones.</p> + +<p class="txt">When he came to himself he was so used up that he lay still for some +time in a sort of daze, too tired to know or care about anything, only +dimly conscious that somebody was lost in a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +tree or a well, and that, on the whole, running away was not all fun.</p> + +<p class="txt">By and by the sound of a gun roused him; and remembering poor Billy, he +tried to get out of the pit,—for the moon showed him where he was. But +it was too deep, and he was too stiff with weariness and the fall to be +very nimble. So he shouted, and whistled, and raged about very like a +little bear caught in the pit.</p> + +<p class="txt">It is very difficult to find a lost person on these great mountains, and +many wander for hours not far from help, bewildered by the thick woods, +the deep ravines, and precipices which shut them in. Some have lost +their lives; and as Tommy lay on the leaves used up by his various +struggles, he thought of all the stories he had lately heard at the +farm, and began to wonder how it would feel to starve to death down +there, and to wish poor Billy could come to share his prison, that they +might die together, like the Babes in the Wood, or better still the Boy +Scouts lost on the prairies in that thrilling story, “Bill Boomerang, +the Wild Hunter of the West.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“I guess mother is worried this time, because I never stayed out all +night before, and I never will again without leave. It’s rather good fun, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +though, if they only find me. I ain’t afraid, and it isn’t very +cold. I always wanted to sleep out, and now I’m doing it. Wish poor +Billy was safely down and in this good bed with me. Won’t he be scared +all alone there? Maybe the belt will break and he get hurt bumping down. +Sorry now I left him, he’s such a ’fraid-cat. There’s the gun again! +Guess it’s that man after us. Hi! hollo! Here I am! Whoop! Hurrah! Hi! +hi! hi!”</p> + +<p class="txt">Tommy’s meditations ended in a series of yells as loud as his shrill +little voice could make them, and he thought some one answered. But it +must have been an echo, for no one came; and after another rampage round +his prison, the poor boy nestled down among the leaves, and went fast +asleep because there was nothing else to do.</p> + +<p class="txt">So there they were, the two young hunters, lost at midnight on the +mountain,—one hanging like an apple on the old tree, and the other +sound asleep in a bear-pit. Their distracted mothers meantime were +weeping and wringing their hands at the farm, while all the men in +the neighborhood were out looking for the lost boys. The hunter on his +return to the hotel had reported meeting the runaways and his effort to +send them home in good season; so people knew +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +where to look, and, led +by the man and dog, up the mountain went Mr. Mullin with his troop. It +was a mild night, and the moon shone high and clear; so the hunt was, +on the whole, rather easy and pleasant at first, and lanterns flashed +through the dark forest like fireflies, the lonely cliffs seemed alive +with men, and voices echoed in places where usually only the brooks +babbled and the hawks screamed. But as time went on, and no sign of the +boys appeared, the men grew anxious, and began to fear some serious harm +had come to the runaways.</p> + +<p class="txt">“I can’t go home without them little shavers no way, ’specially Tommy,” +said Mr. Mullin, as they stopped to rest after a hard climb through the +blasted grove. “He’s a boy after my own heart, spry as a chipmunk, smart +as a young cockerel, and as full of mischief as a monkey. He ain’t +afraid of anything, and I shouldn’t be a mite surprised to find him +enjoyin’ himself first-rate, and as cool as a coocumber.”</p> + +<p class="txt">“The fat boy won’t take it so easily, I fancy. If it hadn’t been for him +I’d have kept the lively fellow with me, and shown him how to hunt. +Sorry now I didn’t take them both home,” said the man with the gun, +seeing his mistake too late, as people often do.</p> + +<p class="txt"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +“Maybe they’ve fell down a precipice and got killed, like Moses Warner, +when he was lost,” suggested a tall fellow, who had shouted himself +hoarse.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Hush up, and come on! The dog is barkin’ yonder, and he may have found +’em,” said the farmer, hurrying toward the place where the hound was +baying at something in a tree.</p> + +<p class="txt">It was poor Billy, hanging there still, half unconscious with weariness +and fear. The belt had slipped up under his arms, so he could breathe +easily; and there he was, looking like a queer sort of cone on the +blasted pine.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Wal, I never!” exclaimed the farmer, as the tall lad climbed up, and, +unhooking Billy, handed him down like a young bird, into the arms held +up to catch him.</p> + +<p class="txt">“He’s all right, only scared out of his wits. Come along and look for +the other one. I’ll warrant he went for help, and may be half-way home +by this time,” said the hunter, who didn’t take much interest in the fat +boy.</p> + +<p class="txt">Tommy’s hat lay on the ground; and showing it to the dog, his master +told him to find the boy. The good hound sniffed about, and then set off +with his nose to the ground, following the zigzag track Tommy had taken +in his hurry. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +The hunter and several of the men went after him, leaving +the farmer with the others to take care of Billy.</p> + +<p class="txt">Presently the dog came to the bear-pit, and began to bark again.</p> + +<p class="txt">“He’s got him!” cried the men, much relieved; and rushing on soon saw +the good beast looking down at a little white object in one corner of +the dark hole.</p> + +<p class="txt">It was Tommy’s face in the moonlight, for the rest of him was covered up +with leaves. The little round face seemed very quiet; and for a moment +the men stood quite still, fearing that the fall might have done the boy +some harm. Then the hunter leaped down, and gently touched the brown +cheek. It was warm, and a soft snore from the pug nose made the man call +out, much relieved,—</p> + +<p class="txt">“He’s all right. Wake up here, little chap; you are wanted at home. Had +hunting enough for this time?”</p> + +<p class="txt">As he spoke, Tommy opened his eyes, gave a stretch, and said, “Hollo, +Billy,” as calmly as if in his own bed at home. Then the rustle of the +leaves, the moonlight in his face, and the sight of several men staring +down at him startled him wide awake.</p> + +<p class="txt"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +“Did you shoot the big bear?” he asked, looking up at the hunter with a +grin.</p> + +<p class="txt">“No; but I caught a little one, and here he is,” answered the man, +giving Tommy a roll in the leaves, much pleased because he did not whine +or make a fuss.</p> + +<p class="txt">“Got lost, didn’t we? Oh, I say, where’s Billy? I left him up a tree +like a coon, and he wouldn’t come down,” laughed Tommy, kicking off his +brown bed-clothes, and quite ready to get up now.</p> + +<p class="txt">They all laughed with him; and presently, when the story was told, they +pulled the boy out of the pit, and went back to join the other wanderer, +who was now sitting up eating the bread and butter Mrs. Mullin sent for +their very late supper.</p> + +<p class="txt">The men roared again, as the two boys told their various tribulations; +and when they had been refreshed, the party started for home, blowing +the tin horns, and firing shot after shot to let the scattered searchers +know that the lost children were found. Billy was very quiet, and gladly +rode on the various broad backs offered for his use; but Tommy stoutly +refused to be carried, and with an occasional “boost” over a very rough +place, walked all the way down on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +his own sturdy legs. He was the hero +of the adventure, and was never tired of relating how he caught the +woodchuck, cooked the fish, slid down the big rock, and went to bed in +the old bear-pit. But in his own little mind he resolved to wait till he +was older before he tried to be a hunter; and though he caught several +woodchucks that summer, he never shot another harmless little bird.</p> + +</div> + +<hr style='width: 95%;' /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 233px;"> +<img src="images/img3.jpg" width="233" height="200" alt="Little Brown and Company logo" title="" /> +</div> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p class="head">The Children’s friend Series</p> + +<div class="box"> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img4.jpg" width="400" height="271" alt="image" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Handy Illustrated Volumes by popular authors, including: <span class="smcap">Louisa M. +Alcott</span>, <span class="smcap">Susan Coolidge</span>, <span class="smcap">Nora Perry</span>, <span class="smcap">Helen Hunt Jackson</span>, <span class="smcap">Louise Chandler +Moulton</span>, <span class="smcap">Juliana H. Ewing</span>, <span class="smcap">Laura E. Richards</span>, A. G. <span class="smcap">Plympton</span>, etc. +Choicely printed and attractively bound in cloth, with gold and ink +stamp on side. Issued at the popular price of 50 cents per volume.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><strong>NEW ISSUES.</strong></p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> + +<tr> <td align='left'>MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>GREAT EMERGENCY.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By NORA PERRY,</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By JULIANA H. EWING.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>author of “Another Flock of Girls,”</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>“Hope Benham,” etc.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>TWO GIRLS.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By SUSAN COOLIDGE,</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>TWO DOGS AND A DONKEY.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>author of “The Katy Did Series,” etc.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By A. G. PLYMPTON,</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>author of “Dear Daughter Dorothy,” etc.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>LITTLE TOMMY TUCKER.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By SUSAN COOLIDGE.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>MARY’S MEADOW.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By JULIANA H. EWING,</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>POPPIES AND WHEAT.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>author of “Jackanapes,” etc.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By LOUISA M. ALCOTT,</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>author of “Little Women,”</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>BOOK OF HEROIC BALLADS.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>“Little Men,” etc.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>Selected by MARY W. TILESTON,</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>author of “Daily Strength for Daily Needs.”</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>CANDY COUNTRY.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By LOUISA M. ALCOTT.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By JEAN INGELOW,</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>JESSIE’S NEIGHBOR.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>author of “Stories Told to a Child,” etc.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON,</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>author of “Bed-Time Stories,” etc.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>LAND OF LOST TOYS.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By JULIANA H. EWING.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> + + +<p class="center"><strong>PREVIOUSLY ISSUED.</strong></p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> + +<tr> <td align='left'>AGAINST WIND AND TIDE.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>JACKANAPES.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By JULIANA H. EWING.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'> </td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>A HOLE IN THE WALL.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>LITTLE OLIVE THE HEIRESS.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By LOUISA M. ALCOTT.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By A. G. PLYMPTON.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'> </td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>A LITTLE KNIGHT OF LABOR.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By SUSAN COOLIDGE.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By EDWARD EVERETT HALE,</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>author of “Ten Times One is Ten,” etc.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>CHILDREN’S HOUR.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By MARY W. TILESTON.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>MARJORIE’S THREE GIFTS.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By LOUISA M. ALCOTT.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>CHOP CHIN AND THE GOLDEN DRAGON.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By LAURA E. RICHARDS,</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>MAY FLOWERS.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>author of “Captain January,”</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By LOUISA M. ALCOTT.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>“The Joyous Story of Toto,” etc.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>MISS TOOSEY’S MISSION.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>COTTAGE NEIGHBORS.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By the author of “Belle,” “Laddie,” etc.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By NORA PERRY.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>NONSENSE SONGS.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>CURLY LOCKS.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By EDWARD LEAR.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By SUSAN COOLIDGE.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>RAGS AND VELVET GOWNS.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>DADDY DARWIN’S DOVECOT.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By A. G. PLYMPTON.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By JULIANA H. EWING.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>STORY OF A SHORT LIFE.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>FOUR OF THEM.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By JULIANA H. EWING.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>SUNDOWN SONGS.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By LAURA E. RICHARDS.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By LAURA E. RICHARDS.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>THAT LITTLE SMITH GIRL.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>GOOSTIE.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By NORA PERRY.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By MARY CAROLINE HYDE.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>UNDER THE STABLE FLOOR.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>HUNTER CATS OF CONNORLOA.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>A Christmas Story.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>By HELEN HUNT JACKSON,</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By MARY CAROLINE HYDE.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>author of “Ramona,”</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'></td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'>“Nelly’s Silver Mine,” etc.</td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>CHRISTMAS AT TAPPAN SEA.</td> </tr> +<tr> <td align='left'></td> <td class="tdp"></td> <td align='left'>By MARY CAROLINE HYDE.</td> </tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + + +<p><strong>THE CHILDREN’S FRIEND SERIES, put up in sets:</strong></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 120px;"> +<img src="images/img5.jpg" width="120" height="200" alt="image" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Louisa M. Alcott Library for Little People</span>.<br /> +5 vols. $2.50.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Susan Coolidge Library for Little People</span>.<br /> +4 vols. $2.00.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Juliana H. Ewing Library for Little People</span>.<br /> +6 vols. $3.00.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Louise Chandler Moulton Library for Little People</span>.<br /> +3 vols. $1.50.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nora Perry Library for Little People</span>.<br /> +3 vols. $1.50.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Laura E. Richards Library for Little People</span>.<br /> +3 vols. $1.50.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The A. G. Plympton Library for Little People</span>.<br /> +3 vols. $1.50.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mary Caroline Hyde’s Christmas Library</span>.<br /> +3 vols. $1.50.</p> + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> + +<p class="center"><strong>LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, Publishers</strong><br /> +254 Washington Street, Boston, Mass.</p> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Candy Country, by Louisa M. 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