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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nursery, May 1877, Vol. XXI., by Various.
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, May 1877, Vol. XXI. No. 5, 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, May 1877, Vol. XXI. No. 5
+       A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 20, 2009 [EBook #28133]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, MAY 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. 5.<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'>The Young Lamplighter</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Fourth Lesson in Astronomy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Poor Blind Woman</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"Good-morning, Sir!"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Playing April-Fool</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Eider-Duck</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Trial-Trip</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Swaddling-Clothes</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Drawing-Lesson</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Fanny and Louise</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>True Story of a Bird</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Rough Sketch</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Peter's Pets</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Strolling Bear</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Parrot and the Sparrow&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_156">156</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'>"Popping Corn"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Cooper's Song</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Polliwogs</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Toad</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>That Fox</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Grasshopper Green (<i>with music</i>)&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_160">160</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_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/illus129.png" width="350" height="500" alt="THE YOUNG LAMPLIGHTER." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE YOUNG LAMPLIGHTER.</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_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE YOUNG LAMPLIGHTER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 161px;">
+<img src="images/illus130.png" width="161" height="125" alt="W" title="" />
+</div><div class='unindent'><br /><br />ALLACE is a boy about ten years old, who
+lives in a town near Boston. He has
+a brother Charles, eighteen years of age.
+These two brothers are the town lamplighters.</div>
+
+<p>There are at least fifty lamps to be lighted every night;
+and some of them are a good deal farther apart than the
+street-lamps in large cities. Charles takes the more distant
+ones for his part of the work, and drives from post to post
+in a gig.</p>
+
+<p>Wallace, being a small boy, calls to his aid his father's
+saddle-horse. This horse is a kind, gentle creature, and as
+wise as he is kind. He and Wallace are about the same
+age, and have always been good friends.</p>
+
+<p>So when Wallace puts the saddle on him every evening,
+just before dark, the horse knows just what is going to be
+done. He looks at the boy with his great bright eyes, as
+much as to say, "We have our evening work to do, haven't
+we, Wallace? Well, I'm ready: jump on."</p>
+
+<p>Wallace mounts the horse; and they go straight to the
+nearest lamp-post. Here the horse stops close by the post,
+and stands as still and steady as the post itself.</p>
+
+<p>Then Wallace stands upright on the saddle, takes a match
+from his pocket, lights the lamp, drops quickly into his seat
+again, takes up the bridle, gives the word to the horse, and
+on they go to the next lamp-post.</p>
+
+<p>So they go on, till all the lamps allotted to Wallace are
+lighted. Then they trot home merrily, and, before Wallace
+goes to bed himself, I am sure he does not forget to see that
+his good horse is well fed and cared for.</p>
+
+<p>This is a true story.</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>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus131.png" width="500" height="310" alt="Fourth lesson in Astronomy" title="" />
+</div>
+<h2>FOURTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Because</span> our earth has one sun and one moon, you may
+think all earths have only one; but wise men have looked
+through their telescopes, and have discovered that some of
+the stars which look to us like single stars are really double;
+and many of them are clusters of three or four, all lighting
+up the same planets.</p>
+
+<p>Those earths, then, have more than one sun: they have
+two, three, or four, as the case may be. Think of two suns.
+How bright it must be! And imagine one of them red, and
+the other blue, as some of them are. Wouldn't you feel as
+if you were living in a rainbow?</p>
+
+<p>And how would you like to look out of the window in
+the evening and see four moons? The wise men can see
+through their telescopes that Jupiter has four and Saturn
+eight. (You remember I told you Jupiter and Saturn are
+two of the earths lighted up by our sun.) Shouldn't you
+think so many moons would make the nights so bright that
+one could hardly go to sleep?</p>
+
+<p>On the whole, I think we get along very well as we are;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
+and I hope the people who live in the brightness of two
+suns have strong eyes given them. It must be very beautiful,
+though. Perhaps you can get an idea how it seems to
+have a red sun, if you look through a piece of red glass; but
+I do not believe we can any of us imagine what it would be
+like to have two suns of different colors.</p>
+
+<p>Do you think a red sun shining on a moon makes a red
+moon? A colored sun or a colored moon seems very strange
+to us; but I suppose the people that are used to them would
+think our white light strange.</p>
+
+<p>I wonder whether the two suns rise and set at the same
+time. But we may all wonder and wonder. Nobody knows
+much about it. I hope you will all look at a double star
+through a telescope, if you ever have an opportunity.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+M. E. R.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>"POPPING CORN."</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Bring</span> a yellow ear of corn, and then rub, rub, rub,<br />
+Till the kernels rattle off from the nub, nub, nub!<br />
+Then put them in a hopper made of wire, wire, wire,<br />
+And set the little hopper on the fire, fire, fire!<br />
+If you find them getting lively, give a shake, shake, shake;<br />
+And a very pretty clatter they will make, make, make:<br />
+You will hear the heated grains going pop, pop, pop;<br />
+All about the little hopper, going hop, hop, hop!<br />
+When you see the yellow corn turning white, white, white,<br />
+You may know that the popping is done right, right, right:<br />
+When the hopper gets too full, you may know, know, know,<br />
+That the fire has changed your corn into snow, snow, snow:<br />
+Turn the snow into a dish, for it is done, done, done;<br />
+Then pass it round and eat&mdash;for that's the fun, fun, fun!<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_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus133.png" width="300" height="329" alt="Poor Blind Woman" title="" />
+</div>
+<h2>THE POOR BLIND WOMAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I have</span> a true story to tell about a colored woman who
+lives in the city of Salem, not far from Boston.</p>
+
+<p>She is old and poor and blind. She has had a husband
+and six children; but they are all dead; her last remaining
+son was killed in the war, and she is now quite alone in
+the world.</p>
+
+<p>But she is a cheerful old body. She does not whine, nor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
+complain, nor beg; though she needs help much, and is
+very thankful for any help that is given her.</p>
+
+<p>When she goes out to walk, she finds her way as well as
+she can by groping about with her big umbrella. Very
+often she loses her way, and goes in the wrong direction;
+and sometimes she gets bewildered: but I have never known
+her to be really lost or hurt. There is always somebody to
+set her right; and it is pleasant to see how kind every one
+is to her.</p>
+
+<p>Many a time I have seen some gentleman, while hurrying
+to catch his train, stop to help her over the crossing; or
+some handsomely-dressed lady take her by the arm, and set
+her right, when she has gone astray.</p>
+
+<p>Best of all it is, though, to see the children so kind to her.
+She comes to our square every Saturday; and, as she is very
+apt to go to the wrong gate, the little girls&mdash;bless their
+dear hearts!&mdash;seem to consider it their duty to guide her,
+and to help her over the slippery places.</p>
+
+<p>In the picture, you may see Lily helping the poor old
+woman along, as I often see her from my window. Another
+day it may be Lina, and the next time Mamie; for they are
+all good to her. Even baby Robin runs to meet her, and is
+not afraid of her black face.</p>
+
+<p>Last week, these small folks had a fair for her in Lily's
+house. Nobody thought they would get so much money;
+but they made fifty dollars out of it. This will make the
+old woman comfortable for a long time.</p>
+
+<p>The good woman said, when she was told what they had
+done, that she hoped the Lord would reward them, for she
+could not.</p>
+
+<p>I think he has rewarded them already by making them
+very happy while they were doing this kind deed.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+P.<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_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus135.png" width="500" height="374" alt="The Cooper" title="" />
+</div>
+<h2>THE COOPER'S SONG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">I am</span> the cooper: I bind the cask:<br />
+The sweat flows down as I drive my task;<br />
+Yet on with the hoop! And merry's the sound<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">As I featly pound,</span><br />
+And with block and hammer go travelling round,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And round and round.</span><br />
+<br />
+I am the cooper: I bind the cask;<br />
+And gay as play is my nimble task;<br />
+And though I grow crooked with stooping to pound,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Yet merry's the sound</span><br />
+As with block and with hammer I journey round<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 3em;">And round and round.</span><br />
+<br />
+I am the cooper: I bind the cask:<br />
+Am healthy and happy&mdash;what more shall I ask?<br />
+Not in king's palaces, I'll be bound,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Such joy is found,</span><br />
+Where men do nothing, and still go round,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And round and round.</span><br />
+<br />
+So I'll still be a cooper, and bind the cask:<br />
+Bread for children and wife is all I ask;<br />
+And glad will they be at night, I'll be bound,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">That, with cheerful sound,</span><br />
+Father all day went a-hammering round,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And round and round.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">From the German.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>"GOOD-MORNING, SIR!"</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was once a little robin that grew to be so tame,
+that it would come to my sister Helen's door every morning
+for a few crumbs. Sometimes it would perch on the table.</p>
+
+<p>What a power there is in kindness! It is very pleasant
+to form these friendships with birds; so that they learn to
+trust you and to love you. The sound of the human voice
+often seems to have a strange effect on animals, as if they
+almost understood your words.</p>
+
+<p>My sister would say, "Good-morning, sir! Come in!
+Don't make yourself a stranger. Hard times these; but
+you will find plenty of crumbs on the table. Don't be
+bashful. You don't rob us. Try as you may, you can't
+eat us out of house and home. You have a great appetite,
+have you? Oh, well, eat away! No cat is prowling round."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;">
+<img src="images/illus137.png" width="310" height="400" alt="The bird on the sill" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The little bird, as if he knew that my sister was talking
+to him, would chirp away, and seem quite happy. As soon
+as the warm weather came, his visits were not so frequent;
+but, every now and then, he would make his appearance, as
+if to say, "Don't forget me, Helen. I may want some more
+crumbs when the cold weather comes."</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_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h2>PLAYING APRIL-FOOL.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was the last evening in March, and raining drearily
+out of doors; but in mamma's sitting-room all was bright,
+warm, and cosey. Jim and his big brother Rob were
+stretched out on the rug, feet in the air, watching the
+blazing fire, and talking of the tricks they meant to play
+next day.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," said Rob, "you can't fool me! I know about
+every way there is of fooling; and I'd just like to see anybody
+try it on me!" And Rob rolled over on his back, and
+studied the ceiling with a very defiant air.</p>
+
+<p>Poor little Jim looked very much troubled; for, if Rob
+said he could not be fooled, of course he couldn't be; and
+he did want to play a trick on Rob so badly! At last he
+sprang up, saying, "I'm going to ask mamma;" and ran
+out of the room. Rob waited a while; but Jim did not
+come back: so he yawned, stretched, and went to bed.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning, bright and early, up jumped Jim, pulled
+on his clothes; wrong-side out and upside down (for he
+was not used to dressing himself), and crept softly downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>An hour or two later, Rob went slowly down, rubbing his
+eyes. He put on his cap, and took up the pail to go for
+the milk; but it was very heavy. What could be the
+matter with it? Why, somebody had got the milk already.
+Just then, Jim appeared from behind the door, crying,
+"April Fool! April Fool! You thought I couldn't fool
+you; but I did."</p>
+
+<p>Rob looked a little foolish, but said nothing, and went
+out to feed his hens. To his great surprise, the biddies
+were already enjoying breakfast; and again he heard little
+Jim behind him, shouting, "April Fool! April Fool!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Poor Rob! He started to fill the kitchen wood-box; but
+Jim had filled it. Jim had filled the water-pails: in fact,
+he had done all of Rob's work; and at last, when he
+trudged in at breakfast-time, with the sugar that Rob had
+been told to bring from the store the first thing after breakfast,
+Rob said, "I give up, Jim. You have fooled me well.
+But such tricks as yours are first-rate, and I don't care how
+many of them you play."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Aunt Sallie.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>THE EIDER-DUCK.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Did</span> you ever sleep under an eider-down quilt? If you
+have, you must have noticed how light and soft it was.
+Would you like to hear where the eider-down comes from?
+I will tell you.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/illus139.png" width="200" height="146" alt="The eider-duck" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A long, long way from here, there is a country called
+Norway. It is a very cold
+country, and very rocky;
+and there are a great many
+small islands all around it.
+It is on these islands that
+the dear little eider-ducks
+build their nests. They
+take a great deal of time
+and trouble to make them,
+and they use fine seaweed, mosses, and dry sticks, so as to
+make them as strong as they can.</p>
+
+<p>When the mother-duck has laid four or five eggs, which
+are of a pretty, green color, she plucks out some of the soft
+gray down that grows on her breast, to cover them up, and
+keep them warm, while she goes off to find some food.</p>
+
+<p>And now what do you think happens? Why, when she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
+comes back to sit on her eggs, she finds that all her eggs and
+beautiful down have been taken away! Oh! how she cries,
+and flaps her wings, to find her darling eggs gone!</p>
+
+<p>But, after a while, she lays five more, and again pulls the
+down out of her dear little breast to cover them. She goes
+away again; and again the people take the down away.</p>
+
+<p>When she returns the second time, her cries are very sad
+to hear; but, as she is a very brave little duck, she thinks
+she will try once more; and this time she is left in peace,
+and when she has her dear little children-ducks around her,
+you may be sure she is a joyful mamma.</p>
+
+<p>So this is where the eider-down comes from; and, as
+there are a great many ducks, the people get a great deal
+of down; and with this down are made the quilts which
+keep us so warm in cold winter-nights.</p>
+
+<p>The eider-down quilts are very light and warm; but I
+always feel sorry for the poor mamma-duck.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Sister Pepilla.</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: 350px;">
+<img src="images/illus140.png" width="350" height="280" 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_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 343px;">
+<img src="images/illus141.png" width="343" height="350" alt="The Trial-Trip" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>THE TRIAL-TRIP</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Davie</span> and Harold are two little Boston boys. They are
+brothers. Last summer, they had two pretty little yachts
+given them by a friend. Then they had a launch in the
+bath-tub; and their mamma named the yachts, breaking a
+bottle of water (a small medicine-bottle) over the bows.
+Davie's yacht was named the "West Wind;" and Harold's,
+the "Flyaway."</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, the boys went to City Point, hired a
+row-boat, and rowed out about halfway to Fort Independence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
+where they put the little vessels into the water for a
+trial-trip. It was a pretty sight to see the sails fill with the
+wind, and the tiny yachts ride the waves as if they meant
+to go to China before they stopped.</p>
+
+<p>The "West Wind" beat the "Flyaway," and I regret to
+say that Davie taunted his brother with the fact, and made
+him cry; for Harold is a boy that takes every thing to
+heart.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Mamma.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>SWADDLING-CLOTHES</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Did</span> the little readers of "The Nursery" ever think how
+thankful they should be for the free use of their arms and
+legs? I do not believe it ever came into their thoughts
+that there could be any other way than to use them freely.
+But in Syria, a country many miles from here, the mothers
+do not let their babies kick their feet, and hold out their
+dear little hands. They are bound very closely in what are
+called "swaddling-clothes."</p>
+
+<p>They are seldom undressed, and are kept in a rough
+cradle, and rocked to sleep as much as possible. When the
+mother carries them out, she straps them to her back; and
+often, on the mountains there, one may see a woman with a
+baby on her back, and a great bundle of sticks in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>With the sticks she makes her fire, in a room where there
+is no chimney, and where the smoke often makes poor
+baby's eyes smart; but all he can do, poor swaddled child,
+is to open his mouth, and cry.</p>
+
+<p>This custom of binding the baby up so straight and tight
+is a very old one. The Bible tells us, you know, that the
+mother of Jesus "wrapped him in swaddling-clothes, and
+laid him in a manger." So the people of Syria keep on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
+using swaddling-clothes, thinking, that, if they do not, the
+baby will grow crooked.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus143.png" width="400" height="300" alt="Mamma and swaddled baby" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>They are used in Russia also, and in other countries of
+northern Europe. Poor babies! We pity them.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Em. Junius.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>POLLIWOGS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">The</span> cat-tails all along the brook<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Are growing tall and green;</span><br />
+And in the meadow-pool, once more,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The polliwogs are seen;</span><br />
+Among the duck-weed, in and out,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As quick as thought they dart about;</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>Their constant hurry, to and fro,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It tires me to see:</span><br />
+I wish they knew it did no good<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To so uneasy be!</span><br />
+I mean to ask them if they will<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Be, just for one half-minute, still!</span><br />
+"Be patient, little polliwogs,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And by and by you'll turn to frogs."</span><br />
+<br />
+But what's the use to counsel them?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My words are thrown away;</span><br />
+And not a second in one place<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A polliwog will stay.</span><br />
+They still keep darting all about<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The floating duck-weed, in and out.</span><br />
+Well, if they will so restless be,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I will not let it trouble me,</span><br />
+But leave these little polliwogs<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To wriggle till they turn to frogs!</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Marian Douglas.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus144.png" width="300" height="270" alt="Pollywogs" 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_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 366px;">
+<img src="images/illus145.png" width="366" 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_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p>
+<h2>FANNY AND LOUISE.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanny</span> was a little pony, and Louise was a little girl.
+Fanny had a long black mane and tail, and Louise had long
+brown curls. Louise wore a gypsy-hat with blue ribbons,
+and Fanny wore a saddle and bridle with blue girths and
+reins.</p>
+
+<p>Louise was a gentle little girl, and Fanny was a very headstrong
+pony; consequently Fanny had it all her own way.
+When she was trotting along the road, with Louise on her
+back, if she chanced to spy a nice prickly thistle away up
+on a bank, up she would scramble, as fast as she could go,
+the sand and gravel rolling down under her hoofs; and, no
+matter how hard Louise pulled on the reins, there she would
+stay until she had eaten the thistle down to the very roots.
+Then she would back down the bank, and trot on.</p>
+
+<p>Fanny was fond of other good things besides thistles.
+She would spy an apple on a tree, no matter how thick the
+leaves were; and, without waiting to ask Louise's permission,
+she would run under the tree, stretch her head up among
+the branches, and even raise herself up on her hind-legs, like
+a dog, to reach the apple.</p>
+
+<p>Louise would clasp Fanny around the neck, and bury her
+face in her mane: but she often got scratched by the little
+twigs; and many a long hair has she left waving from the
+apple-boughs after such an adventure.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever Fanny smelled any very savory odor issuing
+from the kitchen, she would trot up, and put her head in at
+the window, waiting for Biddy to give her a doughnut or
+cooky. One day a boy named Frank borrowed Fanny, as
+he wished to ride out with a little girl from the city. As
+they were passing a farm-house, Fanny perceived by the
+smell that some one was frying crullers there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 269px;">
+<img src="images/illus147.png" width="269" height="350" alt="Fanny and Louise" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>She immediately ran down the lane to the house, and
+stuck her head in at the open window, and would not stir
+from the spot until the farmer's wife gave her a cruller.
+Then she went quickly back to the road, and behaved very
+properly all the rest of the way.</p>
+
+<p>Fanny was such a good pony, with all her tricks, that the
+neighbors often used to borrow her. This Fanny did not
+think at all fair; and she soon found a way to put a stop to
+it. One warm summer day, the minister borrowed her in
+order to visit a sick man about two miles away. After
+several hours he returned, very warm and tired, walking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>
+through the dust, and leading Fanny, who came limping
+along, holding down her head, and appearing to be very
+lame.</p>
+
+<p>She had fallen lame when only half-way to the sick man's
+house; and the good old minister had led her all the way,
+rather than ride her when she was lame. All the family
+gathered around Fanny to see where she was hurt, when
+Fanny tossed her head, kicked up her heels, and pranced off
+to the stable, no more lame than a young kitten. It had
+been all a trick to punish the minister for borrowing her.
+And it succeeded; for he never asked for Fanny again.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+L. S. H.<br />
+</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE TOAD.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">What</span> a curious thing is the little brown toad;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Do come and look at it, pray!</span><br />
+It sits in the grass, and, when we come near,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just hops along out of our way.</span><br />
+<br />
+It does not know how to sing like a bird,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor honey to make like a bee;</span><br />
+'Tis not joyous and bright like a butterfly;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, say, of what use can it be?</span><br />
+<br />
+But, since God made it, and placed it here,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He must have meant it to stay:</span><br />
+So we will be kind to you, little brown toad,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And you need not hop out of our way.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+E. A. B.<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_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 267px;">
+<img src="images/illus149.png" width="267" height="350" alt="The Story of a Bird" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>TRUE STORY OF A BIRD.</h2>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">One</span> day last spring, in looking over the contents of
+some boxes which had long been stowed away in the attic,
+I found some pieces of lace, which, though old-fashioned,
+seemed to me very pretty. But they were yellow with
+age,&mdash;quite too yellow for use.</p>
+
+<p>I took them to the kitchen, and, after a nice washing,
+spread them on the grass to bleach. I knew that the bright
+sun would soon take away their yellow hue.</p>
+
+<p>A day or two after, Johnnie came running in, and said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
+"Auntie, the birds are carrying off all your old rags out
+there," pointing to the place where the laces were spread.
+Out I went to see about my "old rags," as he called them;
+and I found that several pieces were missing. We knew
+that the birds must have taken them; but, where to look
+for them, we could not tell.</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon, Johnny invited me and his cousins to take
+a row with him in his boat to Rocky Island, of which the
+readers of "The Nursery" have heard before. We were
+all glad to go. As we were passing some bushes on the
+bank of the river, one of us spied something white among
+them. We wondered what it could be.</p>
+
+<p>Johnny rowed nearer; and we could see that it was a
+piece of lace. Rowing nearer still, we saw another piece,
+and another, and at the same time heard the flutter of
+wings. We then asked to be landed, and our boatman soon
+brought us to shore in fine style.</p>
+
+<p>On parting the bushes, we saw a nest just begun, and a
+piece of lace near it, but not woven in. Close by were four
+other pieces; but they were all caught by the little twigs, so
+that the bird could not get them to the nest. We took the
+lace off carefully, leaving the nest as it was, and brought it
+away with us.</p>
+
+<p>On returning to the house, the children measured the
+lace, and found nearly six yards, the largest piece being
+about two yards. It seemed quite a lift for the little birds;
+and it was too bad that after all they did not get the use
+of it. But do you think they were discouraged?</p>
+
+<p>Oh, no! for they soon had a nice nest built; and one
+day Johnny found an egg in the nest, which, from its bright
+hue, he knew to be a robin's egg. This was followed by
+other eggs, and, in due time, by a whole brood of young
+birds.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Aunt Abbie.</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_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus151.png" width="500" height="404" alt="A Rough Sketch" title="" />
+</div>
+<h2>A ROUGH SKETCH.</h2>
+
+<div class='story'>
+<p><span class="smcap">Here</span> is a boy drawing on
+a wall. He is a shoemaker's
+boy. His name is Bob.</p>
+
+<p>Tom, the baker's boy, and a
+little girl named Ann are looking
+on. "What is it?" asks
+Ann at sight of the picture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's a fine lady, of course,"
+says Tom. "Don't you see her
+head-dress and her sun-shade?"
+Bob is so busy that he cannot
+stop to talk.</p>
+
+<p>He is well pleased with his
+work. But the man who is
+looking around the corner of
+the wall does not look pleased
+in the least.</p>
+
+<p>It is plain that he has no love
+for the fine arts. Or it may be
+that he does not like to see such
+a rough sketch on his wall.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps he thinks that when
+boys are sent on an errand,
+they ought not to loiter by the
+way.</p></div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">A. B. C.</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_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 314px;">
+<img src="images/illus153.png" width="314" height="425" alt="PETER&#39;S PETS" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>PETER'S PETS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">How</span> old are they, Peter?" asked Ralph Lamson, pointing
+to two little guinea-pigs on a rude cage which Peter
+had himself made.</p>
+
+<p>"I've had them about six weeks," said Peter. "I don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
+know how old they were then; but they were only little
+things: they've grown twice as big since I've had them."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you give them to eat?" asked Edwin Moore.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! all sorts of things," replied Peter. "They're fond
+of carrots, apples, and all sorts of green leaves, and, what
+is queer, they are fond of tea-leaves."</p>
+
+<p>"Fond of tea-leaves!" cried Ralph and Edwin.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Peter, "they like tea-leaves very much. I
+give them oats too, and bits of bread."</p>
+
+<p>"And what do they drink?" asked Edwin.</p>
+
+<p>"They don't want much to drink, if they get plenty of
+green stuff and tea-leaves," said Peter; "but they like a
+drop of milk now and then, if they can get it."</p>
+
+<p>"Where do these animals come from?" asked Ralph.</p>
+
+<p>"From Brazil and Paraguay in South America. It is
+thought that their odor drives away rats; and that is one
+reason why we keep them."</p>
+
+<p>"What will you sell them for?" asked Ralph.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I can't sell them!" said Peter. "They are my pets.
+Funny little fellows they are, and not so stupid as they
+seem. This white one I call Daisy; and the other I call
+Dozy, because he sleeps a good deal."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Uncle Charles.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>THE STROLLING BEAR.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">In</span> St. Paul, one day last winter, a big black bear was
+seen strolling along on the sidewalk on Third Street. He
+seemed to be quite at his ease, and would stop now and
+then, and look in at the shop-windows.</p>
+
+<p>Half a dozen men and boys soon gathered behind him,
+following him at a safe distance. Others, going up and down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
+the street, would stop to learn the cause of the crowd, and
+perhaps join it, so that they might see the end of the fun.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus155.png" width="500" height="380" alt="The bear" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>For a while, Bruin did not seem to care much for the
+crowd. But they grew to be pretty free in their speech,
+calling out to him, "Does your mother know you're out?"
+"Will you take a glass of whiskey?" and making other
+rude remarks. Bruin stood it for a while, then turned
+fiercely upon the crowd, who scattered at once, some running
+into shops, and others down the side-streets.</p>
+
+<p>This free-and-easy bear then continued his stroll. But
+the crowd behind him grew larger and larger, and he again
+turned upon them, and made them run, all laughing and
+shouting, in various directions.</p>
+
+<p>At last, as if he had had enough of this kind of fun, he
+quickened his pace, driving five or six fellows into a saloon,
+while he followed close at their heels. The boys on the
+other side of the street laughed at this: so he crossed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
+street quickly, and put them to flight; and the way they
+all ran was fun for those near the saloon, who were now
+the laughers, in their turn.</p>
+
+<p>At last, a man with whom Bruin was well acquainted, and
+on good terms, came up, with a chain in his hand, and threw
+it about the bear's neck; and then, as if he had had quite
+enough of a stroll, Bruin quietly followed his guide, and was
+led back to his owner.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Alfred Selwyn.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>THE PARROT AND THE SPARROW.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">At</span> the "Jardin des Plantes," a famous garden and museum
+in Paris, there was once a parrot that took a great fancy to
+a little wild sparrow.</p>
+
+<p>Every morning, the little bird would fly to the parrot's
+perch; and there it would sit almost all day by the side of
+its great friend. Sometimes the parrot would raise his unchained
+claw, and the sparrow would perch upon it.</p>
+
+<p>Jacquot,&mdash;that was the parrot's name,&mdash;holding the
+sparrow at the end of his claw, would turn his head on one
+side, and gaze fondly on the little bird, which would flap its
+wings in answer to this sign of friendship. Then Jacquot
+would slide down to his food-tin, as if to invite the sparrow
+to share his breakfast.</p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 289px;">
+<img src="images/illus157.png" width="289" height="400" alt="THE PARROT AND THE SPARROW." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Once the parrot was ill for some days. He did not eat:
+he trembled with fever, and looked very sad. The sparrow
+tried in vain to cheer him up. Then the little bird flew out
+into the garden, and soon returned, holding in his beak some
+blades of grass. The parrot with great effort managed to
+eat them. The sparrow kept him supplied with grass; and
+in a few days he was cured.</p>
+
+<p>Once, when the sparrow was hopping about on the grassplot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
+near the parrot's perch, a cat sprang out from some
+bushes. At this sight, Jacquot raised a loud cry, and broke
+his chain to fly to the aid of his friend. The cat ran away
+in terror; and the little bird was saved.</p>
+
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Uncle Charles.</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_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THAT FOX!</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">A little</span> gray fox</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Had a home in the rocks,</span><br />
+And most of his naps and his leisure took there;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">But, one frosty eve,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He decided to leave,</span><br />
+And for a short absence began to prepare.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">A letter he wrote;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And he brushed up his coat;</span><br />
+And he shook out his tail, which was plumy and fine:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">At first break of day</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He galloped away,</span><br />
+At some distant farm-house intending to dine.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">How gay he did look,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">As he frisked to the brook,</span><br />
+And gazed at himself in the water so clear!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He looked with delight</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">At the beautiful sight;</span><br />
+For all was so perfect, from tail-tip to ear!<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">That noon, our gray fox</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Called on good Farmer Knox,</span><br />
+Where some of the fattest of poultry was kept,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And, sly as a mouse,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lay in wait by the house;</span><br />
+Or, peeping and watching, he stealthily crept.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He felt very sure</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He should shortly secure</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>A fat little chicken, or turkey, or goose;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And his eyes were as bright</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">As the stars are at night,</span><br />
+As he tried to decide which his foxship should choose.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus159.png" width="500" height="361" alt="The Fox" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">From his sharp-pointed nose</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">To the tip of his toes,</span><br />
+He was all expectation!&mdash;when, suddenly "<i>Snap!</i>"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">With a "<i>click</i>" and a "<i>clack</i>;"</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And, before he could wink,</span><br />
+This smart little fox was caught fast in a trap.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And now that gray fox</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Does not live in the rocks;</span><br />
+And just what his fate was I never have learned:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">This only I know,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">That, a long time ago,</span><br />
+He left there one morning&mdash;and never returned.<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_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus160.png" width="500" height="222" alt="GRASSHOPPER GREEN." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>GRASSHOPPER GREEN.</h2>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">T. Crampton.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus160-music.png" width="500" height="567" 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/may77.mid">here</a>.]</small><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+1.
+Grasshopper Green is a comical chap;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He lives on the best of fare;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bright little jacket and breeches and cap,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">These are his summer wear.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Out in the meadows he loves to go,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Playing away in the sun;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It's hopperty, skipperty, high and low,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Summer's the time for fun.</span><br />
+<br />
+2.
+Grasshopper Green has a dozen wee boys,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And soon as their legs grow strong,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All of them join in his frolicsome joys,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Humming his merry song.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Under the leaves in a happy row,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Soon as the day has begun;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It's hopperty, skipperty, high and low,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Summer's the time for fun.</span><br />
+<br />
+3.
+Grasshopper Green has a quaint little house,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It's under a hedge so gay,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grandmother spider as still as a mouse,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Envies him o'er the way.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little folks always he calls I know,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Out in the beautiful sun:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It's hopperty, skipperty, high and low,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Summer's the time for fun.</span><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 Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, May 1877, Vol. XXI. No. 5, by Various
+
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diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus129.png b/28133-h/images/illus129.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..356e4b2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28133-h/images/illus129.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus130.png b/28133-h/images/illus130.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4d0fb9f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28133-h/images/illus130.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus131.png b/28133-h/images/illus131.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ddce89
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28133-h/images/illus131.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus133.png b/28133-h/images/illus133.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7234ac7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28133-h/images/illus133.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus135.png b/28133-h/images/illus135.png
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index 0000000..918471b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28133-h/images/illus135.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus137.png b/28133-h/images/illus137.png
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index 0000000..ba54221
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus137.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus139.png b/28133-h/images/illus139.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..45f32ef
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus139.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus140.png b/28133-h/images/illus140.png
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index 0000000..5f43a1e
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus140.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus141.png b/28133-h/images/illus141.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b15a615
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus141.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus143.png b/28133-h/images/illus143.png
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index 0000000..e750091
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus143.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus144.png b/28133-h/images/illus144.png
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index 0000000..942a196
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diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus145.png b/28133-h/images/illus145.png
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index 0000000..fa8b7c8
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus145.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus147.png b/28133-h/images/illus147.png
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index 0000000..8cec242
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus147.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus149.png b/28133-h/images/illus149.png
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index 0000000..a880e72
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus149.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus151.png b/28133-h/images/illus151.png
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index 0000000..4fcb807
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus151.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus153.png b/28133-h/images/illus153.png
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index 0000000..2eeda62
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diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus155.png b/28133-h/images/illus155.png
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index 0000000..e6f46e0
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus155.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus157.png b/28133-h/images/illus157.png
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index 0000000..11fb838
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus157.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus159.png b/28133-h/images/illus159.png
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index 0000000..ce78a65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28133-h/images/illus159.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus160-music.png b/28133-h/images/illus160-music.png
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index 0000000..1ec7923
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+++ b/28133-h/images/illus160-music.png
diff --git a/28133-h/images/illus160.png b/28133-h/images/illus160.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61339bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28133-h/images/illus160.png
diff --git a/28133-h/music/may77.mid b/28133-h/music/may77.mid
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index 0000000..01eca8a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28133-h/music/may77.mid