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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nursery, April 1877, Vol. XXI., by Various.
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, April 1877, Vol. XXI. No. 4, by Various
+
+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 Nursery, April 1877, Vol. XXI. No. 4
+       A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 20, 2009 [EBook #28132]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, APRIL 1877 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. Music
+by Linda Cantoni.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<h3>THE</h3>
+
+<h1>NURSERY</h1>
+
+<h2><i>A Monthly Magazine</i></h2>
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">For Youngest Readers.</span></h2>
+
+<div class='center'>VOLUME XXI.&mdash;No. 4.<br />
+
+<br /><br />
+BOSTON:<br />
+JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET,<br />
+1877.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='copyright'><br /><br /><br />
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by<br />
+JOHN L. SHOREY,<br />
+In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.<br />
+<br /><br /><br />
+FRANKLIN PRESS:<br />
+RAND, AVERY, AND COMPANY,<br />
+117 FRANKLIN STREET,<br />
+BOSTON.<br /></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/contents.png" width="400" height="210" alt="Contents" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h3>IN PROSE.</h3>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents in prose">
+<tr><td align='left'>"Why did Elfrida go to Sleep?"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Prairie-Dog</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Strut</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Third Lesson in Astronomy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Robbery</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Little Recruit</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>One good turn deserves another</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Letter from Texas</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Drawing-Lesson</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Story of a Seal</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Fun in Winter</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Old Whitey</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Why do they all Love Freddy?</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>My Rabbits</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Council of Buzzards</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<h3><br />IN VERSE.</h3>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents in verse">
+<tr><td align='left'>The Caterpillars</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Puss and her Three Kittens</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Fred and Ned</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>How the Morning comes</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Mother Goose Melody (<i>with music</i>)&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/contents_end.png" width="200" height="139" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/illus097.png" width="326" height="500" alt="&quot;WHY DID ELFRIDA GO TO SLEEP?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WHY DID ELFRIDA GO TO SLEEP?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>"WHY DID ELFRIDA GO TO SLEEP?"</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 113px;">
+<img src="images/illus098.png" width="113" height="125" alt="T" title="" />
+</div><div class='unindent'><br /><br />HAT was the question, "Why did Elfrida go to
+sleep?" She had been sent to the grocer's in
+the village; and the grocer's was only half a
+mile off from Brook Cottage, where she lived
+with her aunt and five cousins. She had been
+sent to buy a pound of sugar, half a pound of coffee, and
+five small rolls of bread.</div>
+
+<p>Usually she would go to the shop and return in less than
+half an hour. Now a whole hour went by, and no Elfrida
+was to be seen. What could be the matter? Had she run
+a thorn into her foot, and been lamed? Had she stopped to
+talk with the children on their way home from school? Had
+she been run over by a fast horse?</p>
+
+<p>"Let us go and find her," cried James, the eldest of the
+three boys. "Let us all go!" echoed Susan, his youngest
+sister. "Shall Sport go with us?" asked Emma. "By all
+means!" said James. "Here, Sport, Sport! Where are
+you, old fellow?" A big black-and-white Newfoundlander
+soon rushed frisking in, wagging his tail, and seeming ready
+to eat up every one of the children, just to show them how
+fond he was of them all.</p>
+
+<p>Then the children all set out for Mr. Spicer's shop.
+There they learned that no Elfrida had been seen in the
+shop that afternoon. "Where can she be?" cried James,
+a little anxious. "Sport, where is Elfrida?"</p>
+
+<p>Sport stopped his nonsense of playing with a stick, and
+began to look serious. Then he made a bee-line for the
+nearest turning on the right, on the way home. This was
+an old lane, on which some old gardens backed, and which
+led, by a little longer way, to Brook Cottage.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the children had arrived at the head of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
+lane, Sport was seen galloping back in a state of great
+excitement. "Bow-wow!"&mdash;"Oh, you have found her,
+have you, old fellow?"&mdash;"Bow-wow!"&mdash;"Well and
+good! You are a jolly old Sport!"</p>
+
+<p>On the step of the gate of an old garden sat Elfrida, fast
+asleep, with her empty basket in her lap. Emma proposed
+to tickle her nose with a straw. "No! I will pull that thick
+braid of hair," said Susan. "No! let me whisper in her
+ear," said James. But, before anybody did any thing, Sport
+settled the question by putting his paws up on her shoulders,
+and crying, "Bow-wow!"</p>
+
+<p>Elfrida started, and looked around as if in a dream.
+"What does it mean? How long have I been here?"
+cried she. "Why did you go to sleep?" asked the two
+girls. "Yes, why, why, did you go to sleep?" echoed all
+the boys. "Oh, that's my secret," said Elfrida. "Now
+who can catch me in my run to Mr. Spicer's?" So off she
+started, followed by Sport and all the children.</p>
+
+<p>"Now tell us why did you go to sleep?" said the children,
+as they were all on their way home, after she had made her
+purchases. "Will you promise not to tell anybody, if I tell
+you?" asked Elfrida. "We promise, we promise!" cried
+all the children. "Now, then, why did you go to sleep?"&mdash;"Hush!
+I went to sleep because&mdash;because&mdash;because I
+was sleepy," said Elfrida.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Arthur Selwyn.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus099.png" width="300" height="119" alt="Bird" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE PRAIRIE-DOG</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My</span> friend John lives in Colorado, not far from Denver;
+and he writes me, that he and his sister, not long ago,
+walked out to see some prairie-dogs.</p>
+
+<p>The prairie-dog is about the size of a full-grown squirrel,
+and of a like color. It makes a hole for itself in the ground.
+This hole is in the shape of a tunnel, and as large round as
+a man's hat.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus100.png" width="300" height="232" alt="Prairie Dogs" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Now, this little dog is so gentle, that he lets the owl and
+the rattlesnake come and live with him, if they like. All
+three are often found dwelling together. For my part, I
+should not much like such neighbors.</p>
+
+<p>The prairie-dogs live on the roots of grass. Scattered all
+around the entrance to their homes, you may see remnants
+of the dry roots which they have got for food. They are
+quick in their movements, and quite playful.</p>
+
+<p>Johnny writes me, that, when some of these little dogs
+saw him and his sister approaching, they sat down on their
+hind-legs, and began barking. Then they dropped into
+their holes backwards. As Johnny did not care to wake up
+any of the other lodgers, he and his sister went home, well
+content with their first sight of a prairie-dog.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Aunt Alice.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus101.png" width="400" height="314" alt="Strut" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>STRUT</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Strut</span> was the name of a hen that lived on Father Nunn's
+farm, nine miles from Norwalk, Ohio.</p>
+
+<p>She was very vain; that is, she had a very good opinion
+of herself. She always would strut when walking. Indeed,
+it was hard for her to pick up grains of corn as other chickens
+did. I think she never saw her feet in her life: certainly
+she never looked where she stepped.</p>
+
+<p>Worse than all this, when she saw any person in the yard,
+instead of dodging away, as a modest hen should, she would
+strut right up to such a person, and look saucily in his face,
+as though asking, "Who are you? Where are you going?
+What for?"</p>
+
+<p>At last, however, Strut received a severe rebuke for her
+evil ways. Cousin William Bird, who is soon to be a doctor,
+was visiting at Father Nunn's. Having occasion to climb<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
+the ladder to the barn-loft, he saw Strut on the farther side.
+He knew that she would come straight to him; and he also
+knew that she would not look where she stepped. So he
+held still to see what would happen; for exactly between
+them was an opening in the floor for throwing down hay.</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, Strut started for Cousin William, and, stepping
+off the edge of the hole, fell fluttering, cackling, and
+frightened, to the floor beneath.</p>
+
+<p>She was humbled by her fall; for she never strutted
+again, but walked and ate afterwards like other chickens.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Uncle Joe</span>.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>THE CATERPILLARS</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Eight</span> great cabbages growing in the ground;<br />
+Crowds of little caterpillars crawling all around;<br />
+Caterpillars squirmed about, and wriggled in the sun;<br />
+Said, "These cabbages look sweet: suppose we taste of one!"<br />
+<br />
+Down flew a hungry bird, coming from the wood,<br />
+Saw the caterpillars there, and said, "Won't those taste good!"<br />
+Up crept pussy-cat, hunting round for mice,<br />
+Saw the bird, and smacked her lips, and said, "Won't he taste nice!"<br />
+<br />
+Dog saw pussy creeping there, and he began to run,<br />
+Said, "Now I will frighten puss, and then there will be fun!"<br />
+So doggy barked; and pussy hid; and birdie flew away;<br />
+And caterpillars lived to eat a cabbage up that day.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Fleta F.</span><br />
+</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus103.png" width="500" height="261" alt="Third lesson in Astronomy" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>THIRD LESSON IN ASTRONOMY</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I have</span> told you about the sun and the stars. Can you
+think of any thing else in the sky that you would like to
+know a little about? Of course, I do not mean the dark
+clouds, but something bright and pretty, that all children
+love to look at.</p>
+
+<p>I think you must have guessed that I mean the moon,&mdash;the
+beautiful moon. Now, I want you to make another
+guess: Is the moon bright because it is made of fire, like the
+sun; or because the sun shines on it, as it does on Venus and
+Jupiter?</p>
+
+<p>If any of you think it is made of fire, you must try to
+warm your little toes and fingers in the moonlight, as you do
+in the sunshine, and you will find out for yourselves that it
+is not a great fire, like the sun, and that you cannot get
+warm in the light of it.</p>
+
+<p>And now you will guess at once, that, if it is not fire itself,
+it must shine from the sun's fire; and that is right. The
+moon itself is cold and dark. It is the light of the sun that
+makes it look bright to us. We might call it the sun's
+looking-glass, in which we see his image or reflection.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But we cannot at all times see the whole of it. When
+we do, we call it a full moon, and, when we see only the edge
+of it, we say it is a new moon. The moon itself does not
+change its shape. It is always round, like an orange&mdash;a
+dark round ball, which we should never see at all, if the sun
+did not light it up for us; and it is only a part of the time
+we can see the side which is lighted up.</p>
+
+<p>Which do you suppose is the larger,&mdash;the moon, or the
+stars? Now I know you will say the moon, because it looks
+so much larger; but you must remember that the stars are
+so far away, we can hardly see them at all, and the moon is
+our own moon, and much nearer to us than our own sun.</p>
+
+<p>We can see more of it than we can see of the stars; but
+it is a very small thing indeed, compared with one of them.
+It would take about fifty moons to make one such earth as
+we live on, and it would take more earths than you can
+count to make one star or sun.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">M. E. R.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>THE ROBBERY.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I must</span> tell you of something that happened one day last
+summer, when I was at the Zo&ouml;logical Garden in Philadelphia.</p>
+
+<p>Among the persons standing around the cage where the
+monkeys were kept, was an old lady who had on a pair of
+gold-rimmed spectacles. All at once, a big brown monkey
+stretched out his paw between the bars, snatched the spectacles,
+and scampered away, chattering and grinning with
+delight.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, the poor lady was in distress. The keeper
+came to the rescue, and, by driving the monkey about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
+cage with a long pole, forced him at last to drop the spectacles.
+But one of the glasses had come out of it; and this
+the thief still held in his mouth, and refused to give up.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus105.png" width="500" height="372" alt="The Robbery" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The keeper followed him sharply with the pole. Away
+he went, swinging from one rope to another, screaming and
+scolding all the time, until the keeper was so tired, that I
+feared he would have to let the monkey keep the glass.
+But this the keeper said would never do; for he knew, that,
+if he let the monkey carry the day, he never could control
+him again.</p>
+
+<p>So the keeper still plied his pole. The monkey dodged
+it as well as he could, until the blows came so thick and
+fast, that he could bear them no longer, when he opened his
+mouth, and let the glass drop.</p>
+
+<p>Now comes the funniest part of the story. The glass fell
+quite near the bars, just where the old lady was standing;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
+and a gentleman took her parasol, which had a hooked
+handle, to draw it within reach. But he put the parasol
+in a little too far, and it slipped out of his hand.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly a large yellow monkey wrapped his long tail
+around it, and started off. Imagine the feelings of the poor
+old lady&mdash;first robbed of her spectacles, and then of her
+parasol!</p>
+
+<p>But her property was all recovered at last; the robbers
+were both punished; and she went on her way in peace.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. E. S. R.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>PUSS AND HER THREE KITTENS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Our</span> old cat has kittens three;<br />
+What do you think their names should be?<br />
+One is a tabby with emerald eyes,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And a tail that's long and slender;</span><br />
+But into a temper she quickly flies,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If you ever by chance offend her.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think we shall call her this&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think we shall call her that;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now, don't you fancy "Pepper-pot"</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A nice name for a cat?</span><br />
+<br />
+One is black, with a frill of white,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And her feet are all white fur, too;</span><br />
+If you stroke her, she carries her tail upright,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And quickly begins to purr, too.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think we shall call her this&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think we shall call her that;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now, don't you fancy "Sootikin"</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A nice name for a cat?</span><br />
+<br />
+One is a tortoise-shell, yellow and black,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a lot of white about him:</span><br />
+If you tease him, at once he sets up his back:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He's a quarrelsome Tom, ne'er doubt him!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think we shall call him this&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think we shall call him that;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now, don't you fancy "Scratchaway"</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A nice name for a cat?</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our old cat has kittens three,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And I fancy these their names will be:</span><br />
+"Pepper-pot," "Sootikin," "Scratchaway,"&mdash;there!<br />
+Were there ever kittens with these to compare?<br />
+And we call the old mother&mdash;now, what do you think?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Tabitha Longclaws Tiddleywink."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Thomas Hood.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>THE LITTLE RECRUIT.</h2>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 176px;">
+<img src="images/illus107.png" width="176" height="200" alt="The Little Recruit" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">There</span> had been an insurrection
+in Dolldom. <i>Insurrection</i> is a big
+word: what does it mean, I wonder?
+I will tell you: it means an
+uprising, a rebellion. If a number
+of persons should refuse to obey
+the law, and rise up in arms to
+resist it, they would be guilty of
+an insurrection.</p>
+
+
+<p>Now, it happened (according to
+Tommy's story) that all the dolls in the house, headed by
+a naughty male doll of African descent, and known as
+"Dandy Jim," rose in insurrection against their lawful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
+queen, Lucy the First, whose brother, Duke Tommy, was
+commander-in-chief of her Majesty's forces.</p>
+
+<p>The rebels were well fortified in one corner of the play-room.
+They had mounted several cannon on alphabet-blocks;
+and a whole company of tin soldiers defended the
+outworks. Besides this, a china dog and a wooden elephant
+had been enlisted as allies, and stood bravely in front.</p>
+
+<p>General Tommy felt a weight of responsibility upon his
+shoulders, and, like a prudent soldier, he resolved not to go
+into battle until his army was large enough to make victory
+certain. So he enlisted Queen Lucy the First as a recruit.</p>
+
+<p>Queen Lucy looked very grand in her paper cocked hat,
+with a feather at the top. She carried a gun; and General
+Tommy taught her how to fire it off. When all were ready
+for the onset, he blew a trumpet.</p>
+
+<p>The army marched in excellent order along the entry,
+into the play-room; and not a soldier drew back as they
+came within sight of the enemy. "Halt!" cried General
+Tommy. The army halted. The traitor, "Dandy Jim,"
+stood pointing his sword, and the dolls all kept still.</p>
+
+<p>One long blast of the trumpet, and then the brave General
+Tommy cried out, "Now, soldiers, on, on to victory!"</p>
+
+<p>On they went. The tin soldiers were soon swept down.
+The dog and the elephant were handsomely beaten; and,
+rushing into the fort, General Tommy seized the traitor,
+"Dandy Jim," by the throat, and said, "Now, sir, your
+doom is a dungeon!"</p>
+
+<p>The dolls all fell on their knees, and thus was the great
+insurrection in Dolldom put down without bloodshed, and
+the authority of Queen Lucy the First fully restored. Of
+course, there was great rejoicing; and, when the reporter
+left, General Tommy was preparing for a grand illumination.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Emily Carter.</span><br />
+</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 229px;">
+<img src="images/illus109.png" width="229" height="300" alt="Bird" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">On</span> a fine summer day, a dove, that was perched upon
+the branch of a tree, saw a bee fall into a stream that was
+flowing past. The poor bee tried to get out of the water,
+but could not.</p>
+
+<p>The dove, seeing that the bee was struggling for her life,
+dropped a leaf close beside her, so that she might climb on
+to it, and save herself. This the bee at once did, and very
+glad she was to find herself safe once more.</p>
+
+<p>Not long after this, a sportsman, who was roaming through
+the woods for game, saw the dove flying about, and lifted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
+his gun to shoot her. But, just as he was taking aim, something
+happened, that checked him in the act.</p>
+
+<p>The bee, whose life had been saved by the dove, was
+going about from flower to flower in search of honey, when
+she saw the sportsman taking aim at the good dove that
+had befriended her in her time of need. "That dove once
+saved my life, and now I will save hers," thought the bee
+to herself.</p>
+
+<p>With that she flew at the sportsman, and stung him on
+the lip. The poor fellow dropped his gun with a loud cry
+of pain, which so startled the dove, that she flew away; and
+the man did not have another chance to shoot her. "Surely
+one good turn deserves another," thought the bee, as she
+turned merrily to her work.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Leonora.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>A LETTER FROM TEXAS.</h2>
+
+
+<p><i>Dear Children</i>,&mdash;I am writing this letter at my office-desk
+in San Antonio, Texas, a long way off from some of
+you who will read it. I am the big brother of a lot of little
+ones, and they call me "Doc."</p>
+
+<p>We take "The Nursery," and the little folks think it is
+splendid. As soon as it comes, mamma reads the stories,
+and shows them the pictures.</p>
+
+<p>They crowd around her to listen: some of them sit down
+on chairs like little ladies; some sit on the floor like beggars;
+and some&mdash;I am sorry to say&mdash;lie flat down on the carpet,
+like&mdash;certainly not like ladies and gentlemen.</p>
+
+<p>What do you think, children, of boys and girls who lie on
+the floor, and kick up their heels in the air? <i>You</i> would
+not do so, would you?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus111.png" width="500" height="383" alt="Reading the letter" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Now listen! I want to tell you something about our cat.
+When we first got her, she was a tiny kitten, and we fed her
+on milk in a saucer. You ought to have seen her lap it up
+with her little tongue! Don't you think it is a pretty sight
+to see a kitten drinking milk? I do. But our cat isn't a
+kitten any longer, but a great, big, grown cat.</p>
+
+<p>Well, the other night she got locked up in the schoolroom.
+You know Miss Anna and Miss Emma teach a big
+school in our house, and Willie, Pressley, Eddie, May, and
+Emily go to it. Sadie, "Little Lalla," and baby are too
+young for school yet. These are my little brothers' and
+sisters' names. There are eight of them mentioned here.
+See if you can count them.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as Emily found out that Kitty was locked up,
+she ran to Miss Eliza and mamma, and asked them to let
+her out; but they said, "No," for they knew that, if she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
+got out of the schoolroom, she would surely run into the
+dining-room, and drink up the baby's milk. So she had to
+stay there all night.</p>
+
+<p>Early next morning, Miss Eliza went into the schoolroom
+to let Kitty out; and what do you think she saw? There
+was Kitty, fast asleep in Willie's little wagon, and four little
+kittens lying by her side, fast asleep too.</p>
+
+<p>When Miss Eliza went back to the nursery, and told the
+children what she had seen, Eddie, May, Emily, Sadie, and
+even "Little Lalla" set up a big shout, and, bursting out of
+the nursery, ran shouting and laughing to the little wagon
+in the schoolroom, where, sure enough, there they were,
+four little ones. Three were gray and white, and one gray
+and black. Kitty looked so pleased and so happy! You
+ought to have seen her. Wasn't that a nice surprise?</p>
+
+<p>May chose the one that looked most like Kitty: Emily and
+Sadie each chose one of the gray-and-white ones, and Eddie
+took the gray-and-black fellow.</p>
+
+<p>To-day is Emily's birthday. She is seven years old, and
+may have a little party. If she <i>does</i>, how I would like to
+have you all here to play with her! However, at some
+future time I may write, and tell you all about it.</p>
+
+<p>But it is time for me to run home, and get some dinner:
+so good-by.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+"<span class="smcap">Doc.</span>"<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus112.png" width="500" height="142" alt="Landscape" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 341px;">
+<img src="images/illus113.png" width="341" height="500" alt="DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR." title="" />
+<span class="caption">DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>A STORY OF A SEAL.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">The</span> seal is an amphibious quadruped."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, come now, Aunt Emily, do not puzzle us with your
+hard names," cries Johnny.</p>
+
+<p>"But, Johnny, a lad seven years old ought to know that
+<i>amphibious</i> means 'capable of living on land or water;' and
+that <i>quadruped</i> means 'having four feet.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, now I understand," said Johnny. "But does the
+seal have feet?"</p>
+
+<p>"It has a sort of feet; but they are so wrapped up in the
+skin, that they are not of much use on land, except to help
+it to creep, after a fashion. So the seal passes most of its
+time in the sea, coming on shore only to bask and sleep in
+the sun, or to suckle its young ones. It is covered with a
+close thick fur and is a very good swimmer."</p>
+
+<p>"But let us have the story," said Jane.</p>
+
+<p>"The story is this: once a fisherman, after harpooning
+an old seal, found one of its young ones on the sand, and
+took it home. Here it became the playmate of the children,
+whom it seemed to love very much. They named it Blue-eyes.
+It would play with them from morning till night,
+would lick their hands, and call them with a gentle little
+cry, not unlike the human voice in its tone.</p>
+
+<p>"It would look at them tenderly with its large blue eyes,
+shaded by long black lashes. It was very fond of music.
+It would follow its master to fish, swimming around the
+boat, and taking a great many fish, which it would give up
+without even biting them. No dog could have been more
+faithful, or more quick to learn what was wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"But the fisherman's half-sister was a silly old woman.
+She had come to help nurse his wife, who was ill. This
+half-sister took it into her head that the poor seal would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+bring bad luck to the family. She told her brother that he
+must get rid of it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 365px;">
+<img src="images/illus115.png" width="365" height="400" alt="Seal" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Weary of her teasing, he at last took the poor seal,
+rowed with it out into the open sea, and there, more than
+seven miles from the shore, threw it into the water, and
+then hurried home as fast as sails would carry him.</p>
+
+<p>"But, when he entered his cottage, the first thing he saw
+was the faithful seal lying close beside the cradle of one of
+his children. As soon as it saw its master, it showed great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
+joy, and tried to caress him. But he took the seal and
+gave it away to a sailor, who was going on a long voyage.
+Two weeks afterward, as the fisherman came back from his
+boat, he saw the seal at play with the children.</p>
+
+<p>"'If you do not kill that seal, I will kill it myself,' said
+the old aunt. The children began to cry. 'No, no, you
+shall not kill it!' cried Hans with flashing eyes. 'You shall
+kill me first,' cried little Jane. 'You have no right to kill
+it,' cried Mary, the eldest girl.</p>
+
+<p>"'Am I to be ruled by these children?' said the silly
+aunt, turning to her brother.</p>
+
+<p>"'The seal shall live,' said he: 'the children shall have
+their way. Your notion that the poor seal brings bad luck
+is a very silly notion. You ought to be ashamed of it.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Hurrah!' cried Hans. 'Blue-eyes, the vote is taken:
+you are to live, and all this nonsense about your bringing
+bad luck is blown away.'</p>
+
+<p>"The seal began to flop about as if in great joy.</p>
+
+<p>"'I shall leave the house at once,' said the silly aunt.</p>
+
+<p>"'Do as you please,' said the fisherman.</p>
+
+<p>"And so it turned out, that the only ill luck brought to
+the family by the seal was the departure of the cross and
+silly old aunt. And, if the truth were known, this was
+found to be a very good thing for all. The fisherman
+prospered, the mother of the children got well at once; and
+all were happier than ever before, including Blue-eyes, who
+now was the jolliest seal that ever played with children."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Emily Carter.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus116.png" width="500" height="135" alt="The ocean" title="" />
+</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus117.png" width="500" height="380" alt="Fun in Winter" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>FUN IN WINTER.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> ground was white with snow. The sky looked black
+as though another storm were coming. The day was very
+cold; but the tough boys and girls did not mind the cold
+weather. They were out to have some fun.</p>
+
+<p>Their rubber boots, and thick coats and mittens, kept
+them dry and warm. One of the boys, though, had come
+out bare-headed. He was the boy who never <i>could</i> find
+his cap when he wanted it. His name was Tom.</p>
+
+<p>"Now look here, Tom," said his brother Sam, a sturdy
+little chap, who was always trying to keep Tom in order;
+"this won't do. You go into the house and get your cap.
+Go quick, or you'll get this snowball right in your face."</p>
+
+<p>"Fire away!" said Tom, dancing around, and putting up
+his arm to keep off the snowball.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to have a hand in this game," said Joe,
+aiming a snowball at Sam. "Look out for yourself, old
+fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Clear the track!" cried Bill and Ned, rolling a huge
+snowball down the hill.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. O'Sullivan, who was just going up the back-steps to
+ask for cold victuals, looked around to see what was going
+on; while Charles had his own fun in dragging his little
+sister up the hill on her sled.</p>
+
+<p>All this time, a little boy named Jim, who had been
+having a private coast in the field near the house, was
+peeping over the fence, and wishing he were old enough to
+play with the other boys. He didn't venture to join them,
+for he was bashful, and rather timid: but he saw all that
+took place, and he will remember all about it when he sees
+this picture.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Uncle Sam.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>OLD WHITEY.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I am</span> a great boy six years old, and I take "The Nursery."
+Some of the stories I spell out myself; but the most of them
+mamma reads aloud to my little brother Albert and me.</p>
+
+<p>Last summer, we all went to visit an uncle who lives on a
+large farm. We had just the best kind of a time. There
+was a big dog, named Rover, that would play with us for
+hours. He would run after and bring back a ball or stick, or
+any thing that we would throw for him. He would "speak,"
+"roll over," "sit up and read," and do lots of funny tricks.</p>
+
+<p>Then there was a white horse twenty-five years old, and
+just as sleek and fat as a colt. Old Whitey has lived on
+the farm ever since he was a little colt. Old as he is, he is
+still able to do a great deal of work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus119.png" width="500" height="381" alt="Old Whitey running away" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>One day Uncle Wash was ploughing, and he put me on
+the back of Old Whitey. Well, I liked that very much, and
+began to cluck, and jerk the reins, to make him go along;
+when in an instant, without any warning, he pricked up
+his ears, kicked up his heels, and ran away, leaving the
+plough behind.</p>
+
+<p>I can't tell you how scared I was. I held on as long as I
+could; but it was of no use. The old horse ran through
+swamps and bogs, and dropped me, head first, in the mud
+and dirt. I was hurt on my head and side, but I would not
+cry because I was too big for that. When the men got to
+me, I was hunting for my hat.</p>
+
+<p>After getting rid of his load, the runaway coolly walked
+up to the barn, and stood looking as mild as a lamb. I
+didn't have any faith in Old Whitey after that, though
+his master said he never knew him to do such a thing
+before.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Nelson.</span><br /></div>
+<p>
+<span class="smcap">Woodstock, Vt.</span></p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>FRED AND NED.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 162px;">
+<img src="images/illus120.png" width="162" height="800" alt="Fred and Ned" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"<span class="smcap">Oh</span>, this is weather for play, for play!<br />
+And I will not go to school to-day,"<br />
+Said Master Frederic Philip Fay.<br />
+<br /><br />
+So he hung his satchel upon a tree:<br />
+And over the hills to the pond went he,<br />
+To frolic, and see what he could see.<br />
+<br /><br />
+He met a boy on the way to school,<br />
+And said, "Ned Foster, you're a fool<br />
+To study and plod because it's the rule."<br />
+<br /><br />
+Quoth Ned, "You'll find that <i>he's</i> the fool<br />
+Who, for his pleasure, shirks his school:<br />
+Sun, moon, and stars, all go by rule."<br />
+<br /><br />
+Then Ned passed cheerily on his way,<br />
+And not another word did say<br />
+To Master Frederic Philip Fay.<br />
+<br /><br />
+Fred sat him down on a rock near by,<br />
+And cast a look on the bright blue sky,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>And then at the sun, that was mounting high.<br />
+<br /><br />
+"Yes, truly, the sun has no time for play:<br />
+He has to go in a certain way,"<br />
+Said Master Frederic Philip Fay.<br />
+<br /><br />
+"Oh! what would become of us all, suppose<br />
+The sun, some morn, should say, as he rose,<br />
+'A truant I'll be to-day&mdash;here goes!'<br />
+<br /><br />
+"Then off should whirl in a mad career,<br />
+And leave it all night and winter here,&mdash;<br />
+No blue in the sky, no flower to cheer?<br />
+</div>
+<div class='center'> <table class="freddy" summary="End of poem">
+<tr><td align='left'>
+<div class='poem2'><br /><br /><br />
+"Yes, there is a duty for every one,<br />
+For Master Fay, as well as the sun:<br />
+A law must be minded, a task must be done."<br />
+<br /><br />
+Up started Frederic Philip Fay:<br />
+He took from the tree his satchel away,<br />
+And ran off to school without delay.<br /><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span style="margin-right: 8em;"><span class="smcap">Ida Fay.</span></span><br />
+</div>
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>WHY DO THEY ALL LOVE FREDDY?</h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">But</span> do they all love Freddy, mamma?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think there is no doubt of it, Freddy. The cat loves
+you; for she will let you pull her about, and never try to
+scratch you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; and I think old Towser loves me. He lets me get
+on his back: he never bites me."</p>
+
+<p>"I would like to catch him at it&mdash;biting my little
+Freddy! He knows too much for that; and, besides, he
+loves you."</p>
+
+<p>"But does the old cow love me, mamma?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, didn't she let you play with her calf, and never
+try to hook you? The old cow loves Freddy, and will give
+him all the fresh milk he wants."</p>
+
+<p>"The hens love me because I feed them."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the hens love you; and, more than that, the little
+sparrows love you; for they follow you, and hop about your
+feet, as if they wanted to say, 'Good-morning, Freddy!
+We all love you, Freddy.'"</p>
+
+<p>"But I will tell you one beast that does not love me,
+mamma. The old sow does not love me."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you believe it, little boy! The old sow loves you
+just as well as Towser does; just as well as the cow does;
+just as well as old Scamper, the horse, loves you."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to be sure that the sow loves me."</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me, and I will put you on her back; and, if
+she does not like it, it will be a sign that she does not love
+you; but, if she does like it, it will be a sign that she loves
+my little Freddy just as much as the others do."</p>
+
+<p>So mamma took Freddy, and placed him on the back of
+the old sow. The old sow gave a look over her ears, saw it
+was Freddy, and then uttered a contented grunt, as much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
+as to say, "All right! Freddy, you are a darling, and I
+love you."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;">
+<img src="images/illus123.png" width="457" height="450" alt="The Sow" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Did I not tell you that the old sow loved you, like the
+rest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mamma; but why, why, do they love me? Tell
+me that."</p>
+
+<p>Mamma snatched Freddy up in her arms, took him into
+the house, and then said, "I think they must love you,
+Freddy, because you love them. Love wins love, you know.
+The person who says that no one loves him should ask himself
+the question, 'But do I love any one?'"</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Ida Fay.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p>
+<h2>HOW THE MORNING COMES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Cheery</span>, cheery,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Out of the dreary</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Dark there glows</span><br />
+A tint of yellow, a purple gleam,<br />
+A shine of silver, a brazen beam,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A flush of rose;</span><br />
+The darkness, meanwhile, flying, gone:<br />
+Thus does the morning dawn.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Creeping, creeping,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Daintily peeping,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Hastes the light</span><br />
+Through the window to see where lies<br />
+The little girl with the sleepy eyes;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Glistens bright</span><br />
+With very joy to find the place<br />
+Where lies her dreaming face.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Drowsy, drowsy,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A little frowzy</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Gold-locked head</span><br />
+Turns on its pillow, yawns, and winks;<br />
+Lifts from its pillow, peeps, and blinks;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Turns in bed;</span><br />
+Then with a slow, reluctant shake,<br />
+Is almost wide awake.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 327px;">
+<img src="images/illus125.png" width="327" height="400" alt="My Rabbits" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>MY RABBITS.</h2>
+
+<div class='story'>
+<p><span class="smcap">One</span> day Cousin John asked
+me if I would like two nice
+rabbits. I said I would like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+them very much. So he gave
+them to me, and I had a pen
+made for them.</p>
+
+<p>One I called Pink, and the
+other White. They were very
+tame, and soon got to know
+their names. I took them out
+and let them run about the yard
+every fine day.</p>
+
+<p>Once Pink ran away, and I
+thought he was lost. I had a
+long chase after him through
+the bushes; but I caught him
+at last and brought him home.</p>
+
+<p>My brother George kept a
+lot of chickens in the yard, and
+while I fed my pet rabbits, he
+would feed his chickens.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Hattie.</span><br />
+</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus127.png" width="500" height="376" alt="Council of Buzzards" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>THE COUNCIL OF BUZZARDS.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> buzzard is a large black bird, nearly as large as
+a turkey. He never kills that he may eat, but devours
+the refuse in the city streets, and the dead animals on the
+prairies and swamps of the Southern States. It is against
+the law to shoot buzzards; for they are the health officers
+of the South.</p>
+
+<p>Here, in beautiful, sunny Louisiana, I seldom look out
+doors without seeing one or more buzzards slowly circling
+around in the air in quest of food. Before they begin to
+eat, they arrange themselves in a solemn row, as if holding
+a council, and "caw" in a very wise manner. Then one
+flies down, and then another, and another; and as they eat,
+they seem to comment on their repast. At last nothing is
+left of it but the bare bones to bleach in the sun. They
+will eat an ox in a day.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Aunt Ann.</span><br />
+</div><p><span class="smcap">La Teche, La.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus128.png" width="500" height="268" alt="A Mother Goose Melody" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>A MOTHER GOOSE MELODY.</h2>
+
+<div class='sig'>Music by <span class="smcap">Annie Moore</span>.</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus128-music.png" width="500" height="515" alt="Music" title="" />
+</div>
+<div class="center"><small>[<i>Transcriber's Note: You can play this music (MIDI file) by clicking</i> <a href="music/apr77.mid">here</a>.]</small><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+Three little dogs were basking in the cinders,<br />
+And three little cats were playing in the windows,<br />
+Three little mice popp'd out of a hole,<br />
+And a piece of cheese they stole, they stole!<br />
+The three little cats jump'd up in a trice,<br />
+And crack'd the bones of the three little mice,<br />
+The three little mice.<br />
+</div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3>
+<p>Transcriber's Notes:
+
+The January edition of the Nursery had a table of contents for the first
+six issues of the year. This table was divided to cover each specific
+issue. A title page copied from the January edition was also used for
+this number.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nursery, April 1877, Vol. XXI. No.
+4, by Various
+
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:37:31 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:37:31 -0700
commit	c44cf1d5a073ff18a8d8ca0fa7789bd442db0b0f (patch)
tree	bafc71e26e1eb0c183e86a830d2ec4af6cc4cd62 /28132-h