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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nursery, September 1877, Vol. XXII., by Various.
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, September 1877, Vol. Vol. XXII, No. 3, 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, September 1877, Vol. XXII, No. 3
+       A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 20, 2009 [EBook #28137]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, SEPTEMBER 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 XXII.&mdash;No. 3.<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'>&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Introduced to the Atlantic Ocean&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Roses and Insects</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Garry and the Rake</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A true Story of a Partridge</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Letter from Minnesota</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The lazy Shepherd</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Seventh Lesson in Astronomy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Sight of the Ocean</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Philip's new Whip</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Grandma's Story</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Aunt Matilda</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Anna's Bird</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Story of the Squashes</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Charlie's Composition</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_95">95</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'>&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Top-Knot</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Crossing the Brook with Harry</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>How to draw a Pig</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Ruth's Wishes</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The three little Ladies</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Pedlar (<i>with music</i>)&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/contents_end.png" width="200" height="139" alt="Birds" 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_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus065.png" width="500" height="352" alt="VOL. XXII.&mdash;NO. 3." 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_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
+<h2>INTRODUCED TO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 117px;">
+<img src="images/illus066.png" width="117" height="125" alt="N" title="" />
+</div><div class='unindent'><br /><br />OW for it, girls! Let me introduce you to the
+Atlantic Ocean! Mr. Ocean, these are my
+three cousins from Kentucky: Miss Jenny,
+Miss Eva, and Miss Kate Logan. They never
+saw you till today. This lady on my left is
+my sister, Miss Dora Drake, the best swimmer at Brant Rock
+Beach; but her you know already, also my dog Andy."</div>
+
+<p>"Oh! I don't want to go any further. I'm afraid of
+the Atlantic Ocean," cried little Kate Logan.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" said Master Tom Drake. "Look at Andy
+with the stick in his mouth. Why, if the Atlantic Ocean
+were to try to drown us, Andy would save us every one.
+Shall I tell you what he did last summer?"</p>
+
+<p>"We can't stop for stories now, Tom," said sister Dora.
+"We must attend to our bathing. Here comes a wave that
+will give us a good ducking."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! oh, dear! It has taken my breath all away!"
+cried little Kate, as the wave lifted her off her feet and
+curled and gurgled round her neck.</p>
+
+<p>"It is only the Atlantic Ocean making a bow to you, my
+dear; clasping you lovingly round the neck, and whispering
+soft nonsense," said Tom, dropping the hands of Eva
+and Kate, and swimming off into deep water with Andy.</p>
+
+<p>Jenny and Eva did not know how to swim: so they
+jumped up and down in the water, while Dora took Kate
+on her back, and swam out after Tom. She soon overtook
+him and pushed his head under water; but Tom came up
+light as a cork, and splashed the water all over Dora.</p>
+
+<p>"That will do, Tom," said she; "now, Andy, come here,
+and take this little girl on your back and carry her up on
+the dry sand."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then Dora placed Kate on the good dog's back, and the
+little girl threw her arms round his neck, and he swam with
+her through the deep water, and carried her up high on the
+dry, warm sand, where a lady and gentleman were seated,
+and another lady stood with a sun-shade over her head.</p>
+
+<p>But when Kate saw Tom and the girls all frolicking in
+the water, she cried out, "Oh, give me more of the Atlantic
+Ocean. I like him."</p>
+
+<p>She ran down to the water's edge, and into the water all
+alone; but Andy stood by to help her in case of need, and
+when she fell down flat, and the ocean covered her head, he
+took her up by her bathing-dress, and bore her once more
+up on the dry sand.</p>
+
+<p>All laughed, and little Kate laughed louder than any of
+them. "The Atlantic Ocean didn't get me that time," she
+said.</p>
+
+<p>I cannot tell you of all their frolics; but you may be sure
+that the little party from Kentucky grew quite familiar with
+the Atlantic Ocean after this introduction. Every day they
+would leave their little cottage on the height, and walk
+along the white sand in their bathing-dresses till they found
+a good place for bathing. Tom and Andy always went with
+them to protect them from harm.</p>
+
+<p>When Jenny, Eva, and Kate get back to Kentucky, next
+September, what stories they will have to tell of the pleasant
+times they had at Brant Rock Beach! It lies not far from
+the town of Marshfield in Massachusetts. Perhaps you can
+find the name on your map.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Ida Fay.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus067.png" width="300" height="114" alt="Sailing" 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_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class='center'> <table class="rose" summary="Roses and Insects">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<div class='blockquot2'>
+<p><span class="smcap">What</span> sort of insects are a-phi&acute;des?
+In plain English they are plant-lice.
+When about to pluck a rose-bud, have
+you not started sometimes to find it covered with
+little green insects? These are aphides.</p>
+
+<p>They suck the sap from the bud on the leaf;
+and every person who raises a rose-bush seeks to
+get rid of them. The little insect called the lady-bird
+destroys them in great numbers: so you
+must encourage lady-birds, if you want your roses
+to flourish.</p>
+
+<p>Most of us have heard of honey-dew, and know,
+probably, that it is a sweet, clammy substance,
+found on the leaves of various trees and plants,
+especially on the oak, the vine, the hop, and the
+honeysuckle. This honey-dew is extracted with
+the sap, secreted, and then thrown out in a pure state by
+the aphides.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Besides the sweets which they scatter around them like
+sugar-plums, they always keep a good supply within the
+green jars of their bodies. By this lavish use of confectionery,
+they gain a few interested friends and some enemies
+like the lady-birds, that eat them up.</p>
+</div></td>
+</tr></table></div>
+
+<p>Wherever the aphides abound, whether in hop-ground,
+bean-field, or rose-garden, there are lady-birds gathered
+together, and they are welcomed by the cultivator, if not
+by the aphis. (<i>Aphis</i> is the singular noun, and <i>aphides</i> its
+plural form.) But enough of aphis enemies, and now for
+the friends, which, as well as foes, they owe to the sweet
+milk&mdash;the honey-dew&mdash;which they give out. So these
+friends, you see, are fair-weather friends, interested friends;
+and among them are several varieties of the ant tribe.</p>
+<p>The ants do not hurt the aphides, but follow them for
+what they can get out of them. They are continually seen
+in company; and the ants sometimes drive off the lady-birds
+and other foes.</p>
+
+<p>The aphis, when attacked by its mortal foe the lady-bird,
+submits with a good grace. Never did Turk bend
+his neck to the bow-string, or rush upon the cimeter
+with greater courage, than the aphis submits itself to the
+murderous jaws of its devouring foes. It seems quite at
+ease, and enjoys life to the last bite or sup, while its companions
+are being killed, and their carcasses heaped up
+around it. It evidently thinks it is right to die quietly, like
+a great-minded little insect.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Uncle Charles.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus069.png" width="300" height="154" alt="Aphids" 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_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>TOP-KNOT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Pretty</span> Biddy Top-knot has a hidden nest,<br />
+Out among the willows stretching toward the west:<br />
+Every day she runs there on her yellow legs,<br />
+To count and add another to her store of eggs.<br />
+<br />
+Top-knot soon is missing from the garden walks:<br />
+No more with the other hens struts about and stalks!<br />
+No more is her cackle from the willows heard,<br />
+Where, but late, she noisily all the barn-yard stirred.<br />
+<br />
+Down among the willows, stretching toward the west,<br />
+Top-knot's snowy turban shows above her nest:<br />
+Slanting ray of sunshine peeps in very bright;<br />
+Come and peep in with it, you shall see a sight.<br />
+<br />
+Thirteen little chickens, downiest ever seen,<br />
+And joyous little Top-knot proud as any queen!<br />
+For that they are beauties all the hens agree:<br />
+Can you wonder Top-knot should so happy be?<br />
+<br />
+Full of her importance, Top-knot doth appear,&mdash;<br />
+Thirteen little chickens she must feed and rear!<br />
+Soon more hens are missing!&mdash;are they lost or hid?<br />
+Think you they'll surprise us just as Top-knot did?<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_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus071.png" width="500" height="370" alt="GARRY AND THE RAKE" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>GARRY AND THE RAKE.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">One</span> summer afternoon, when the grassy slope before the
+house was untidy with fallen leaves, and sticks, and withered
+flowers, I asked Garry to go and bring the rake that we
+might clear away the rubbish.</p>
+
+<p>So off he ran, and soon came back with an <i>iron</i> rake.
+Now, if you have ever tried one, you will know that an iron
+rake is not nearly as good for this purpose as a wooden
+rake, as it is heavy, and the teeth are so sharp that they
+tear the roots of the grass.</p>
+
+<p>I used it for a while; but, in spite of all I could do, the
+teeth would catch the roots. At last Garry exclaimed,
+"Grandma, let me take it. I can make it all right."</p>
+
+<p>I gave it to him, and the dear little boy took it behind a
+log, and was very busy and quiet for several minutes. Then
+I called, "Come, Garry, I don't believe you can help it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" said he, "you just wait a little, and you will see."
+And, to be sure, in a very short time he brought me the
+rake, with a hard green apple on each outer tooth, pushed
+on just so far that the other teeth would catch the litter of
+leaves and sticks without disturbing the grass.</p>
+
+<p>Wasn't that a bright idea for a little boy five and a half
+years old?</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+M.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>CROSSING THE BROOK WITH HARRY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Now</span>, Harry, don't fear,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I will carry you, dear:</span><br />
+So keep very quiet and steady:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The brook is not wide,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor swift is the tide:</span><br />
+Now, for it, my pet&mdash;are you ready?<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So over the stones we will go,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With step very careful and slow.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I never have slipped</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As o'er them I tripped;</span><br />
+But then I had nothing to carry:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now I must take heed,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The more haste, the worse speed;</span><br />
+For I bear in my arms little Harry:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So over the stones we will go,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With step very careful and slow.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 321px;">
+<img src="images/illus073.png" width="321" height="425" alt="Carrying Harry" title="" />
+</div>
+<div class='poem'>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Almost every bird</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That ever I heard,</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>On the bank there seems now to be singing;<br />
+And I smell the sweet hay<br />
+From the field by the way;<br />
+The wind all its odor is bringing:<br />
+So over the stones we will go,<br />
+With step very careful and slow.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<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_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>A TRUE STORY OF A PARTRIDGE.</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 230px;">
+<img src="images/illus074.png" width="230" height="300" alt="Partridge" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I wonder</span> if any of the
+children who read "The
+Nursery" have ever been
+in the woods of Maine.
+There grow the tall old
+pine-trees, with tops which
+seem to touch the sky, and
+thick interlacing branches,
+making a very dark shade
+overhead.</p>
+
+
+<p>There, too, grow the
+fragrant cedar-trees, with
+their bright green boughs,
+and trunks so hard and
+stout; and, loveliest of
+all, the graceful maple,
+whose green leaves turn crimson and gold when autumn
+comes.</p>
+
+<p>All these and many other trees grow in the great Maine
+forests; and birds build their nests and bring up their young
+among the branches; and under the trees, and all about,
+grow ferns, and mosses soft as velvet.</p>
+
+<p>Bright-eyed squirrels frisk about over the ground, and
+run nimbly up into the tree-tops; and pretty brown partridges
+walk daintily around, picking up seeds and berries
+to carry home to their baby-partridges, hidden away in soft
+nests on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Through a forest like this, where it had always been so
+quiet and peaceful that the birds and squirrels did not know
+what it was to be afraid, a railroad-track was laid not long
+ago. Then the great engine went thundering on its way to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
+a pleasant city by the sea, carrying with it a long train
+of cars, the smoke curling up brown and thick from the
+smoke-stack, and the shrill whistle waking the echoes among
+the distant hills.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when the train was going at full speed through
+the woods, a partridge, flying from one part of the forest to
+another, being frightened and bewildered by the noise,
+dashed against the smoke-stack, and fell at the engineer's
+feet. The engineer, whose name was Nathaniel Grant,
+took up the poor frightened bird, gently stroked its ruffled
+feathers, and carried it carefully to his home.</p>
+
+<p>There the partridge was treated with the greatest kindness,
+and soon got over its bruises. But it longed for the
+quiet woods, where its life had been spent. It could not
+eat, and seemed to be almost breaking its heart with home-sickness.</p>
+
+<p>So the next day, when Mr. Grant started off again on the
+engine, he took the bird with him. Watching very carefully
+for the place where the partridge had flown in, he
+found, at last, the exact spot. There he set the bird free,
+and away it flew, back to its peaceful home.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Dora's Mamma.</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: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus075.png" width="300" height="209" alt="Dragonfly" 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_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>A LETTER FROM MINNESOTA.</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/illus076.png" width="200" height="122" alt="Turtle" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">When</span> "The Nursery" came the
+other day to St. Paul, two little boys
+who live here, named Charley and
+John, found a story in it about a
+bear who used to walk in our streets.
+That story was true; and these little boys were so pleased
+with it, that they want me to write you about a new pet
+they have.</p>
+
+
+<p>It isn't a kitty with nice soft fur, nor a dog that will run
+and jump and play with them, nor a canary-bird to wake
+them up with his sweet songs; but it is a turtle, which the
+boys found trying to get across the street near their home.</p>
+
+<p>John, who is three years old, said, "I guess the poor little
+turtle is lost, and is trying to find his mamma again." So
+he picked him up, when away went his head, legs, and tail,
+all tucked under his shell. He looked like a box shut
+almost tight. When he was put in the water, out they came
+again.</p>
+
+<p>He spends the whole day trying to climb the sides of the
+smooth pan he is in, slipping back, and trying again. We
+put in a large shell to serve him for a house; and one day
+he climbed to the top of it, got out of his pan, and crawled
+over the carpet into the next room. So we had to take his
+house away.</p>
+
+<p>I think we shall have to name him Willie Winkie, because
+he opens and shuts his eyes so often and so quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Charley and John have the promise of a garden all to
+themselves when summer comes here. Perhaps by and by,
+we will tell the other children who read "The Nursery,"
+how they get on with it, and what kinds of flowers they
+raise.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+C. R. S.<br />
+</div>
+<p><span class="smcap">St. Paul, Minn.</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_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 442px;">
+<img src="images/illus077.png" width="442" height="450" alt="THE LAZY SHEPHERD" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE LAZY SHEPHERD.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Some</span> years ago in Scotland, two boys, whose names were
+Henry Bright and John Yorner, were left orphans by the
+death of parents. Mr. Donald, a good man, who had nine
+or ten thousand sheep, and employed many shepherds, took
+both these boys into his employ.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, boys," said he, "a shepherd's life may be barren
+or fruitful, lazy or active, just as you choose to make it. In
+pleasant weather, while you are tending the sheep, if you
+have good dogs to help you, you can, if you choose, find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+leisure for reading and for study, and at the same time not
+neglect your proper duties.</p>
+
+<p>"If you want books, come to my house, and I will lend
+them to you. You have eight years to serve before you
+are twenty-one; and in that time you can fit yourselves for
+employments that will yield you much more than the work
+of a shepherd."</p>
+
+<p>Henry Bright first suited himself to a good dog, and
+taught him so well, that Plato&mdash;such was the dog's name&mdash;soon
+took almost the whole care of a hundred sheep that
+Henry had to look after. The lad would take a seat under
+the shelter of some rock, and read and study, while Plato
+would lie at his feet, or run round to see that no sheep or
+lamb was straying too far from the pasture-ground.</p>
+
+<p>But John Yorner was lazy, and did not care for books.
+He would not take the trouble even to teach a dog his
+duties. He would lie on a bank in the sun, with his hands
+clasped above his head, and there sleep away the long hours
+before dinner. Often his sheep would stray away and get
+lost; so that Mr. Donald once said to him, "I fear you are
+not fit even for a shepherd, John."</p>
+
+<p>You may easily guess what the result was at the end of
+eight years. John Yorner was a shepherd still: he had not
+been promoted to any better employment. He loved idleness
+too well. One must be diligent if he would be faithful
+and succeed.</p>
+
+<p>As for Henry, he applied himself to the study of arithmetic,
+and became so skilled in that branch of study, that,
+before he was nineteen, his services were wanted by a large
+mercantile house in Glasgow. There he made himself so
+useful, that his success became no longer a matter of doubt.</p>
+
+<p>Oh the days of youth, how precious they are! Do not
+be like the lazy shepherd, my little friends!</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_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>SEVENTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">You</span> all know that the sun comes to us in the morning,
+and goes away from us at night, and you say that it rises
+and sets. Does it rise and set in the same place?</p>
+
+<p>I know that is a foolish question to ask any child who
+lives with his eyes open. You all know, of course, that it
+rises opposite to where it went down the night before, and
+takes all day to cross the sky to its setting-place again.
+And you know it rises in the east, and sets in the west.</p>
+
+<p>But do you know that most of the stars, too, rise and set
+in this same way? Those of you who are old enough to be
+up when the stars are out can see for yourselves that this
+is so. You can see some stars rise, and some set, if there is
+nothing in your way, and you patiently watch; or you can
+pick out a particular star, and notice just where it is, and
+then, if you look for it later, you will see that it appears to
+have moved.</p>
+
+<p>All night long, and all day too, only we cannot see them
+in the sunlight, stars are rising, crossing the sky, and setting,
+the same stars coming up a little earlier each day. But
+there are some stars which neither rise nor set, and these I
+will tell you about some other time.</p>
+
+<p>Now, after all this that I have said about the rising and
+setting of the sun and stars, you will be surprised to learn
+that, so far as we can see, they never move at all. The
+planets&mdash;and our earth among them&mdash;move around the
+sun; but the sun stands still; and all the stars which are
+suns, shine always in the same place, and are hence called
+fixed stars. How, then, can they be said to rise and set?</p>
+
+<p>I will try to explain this in the next lesson. In the meantime
+you had better read again what I told you about the
+planets in the second lesson.</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>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>HOW TO DRAW A PIG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/illus080.png" width="600" height="840" alt="How to Draw a Pig" 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_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus081.png" width="500" height="356" alt="A SIGHT OF THE OCEAN" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>A SIGHT OF THE OCEAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Oh</span>, what I would give for a sight of the ocean!" said
+Ruth Turner, as she sat one hot day in June in their little
+parlor, with her two sisters and their mother.</p>
+
+<p>"We must content ourselves in the city this summer,"
+said Mrs. Turner. "What with the great fire, and the
+stagnation of trade, your father has lost so much money
+that we cannot afford to hire a cottage by the sea-side
+this year."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we must try to make home pleasant," said little
+Anna, whose pale, pinched face showed that the pent air of
+the city had already begun to affect her health.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us all shut our eyes, and imagine ourselves on the
+beach," said Ellen, who was the poetess of the family.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment, the postman's knock at the door gave
+promise of a letter. Ruth ran to get it, and, returning in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
+moment, handed her mother a note, and said, "It is from
+that ugly, fat old Mr. Jenks, the grocer: his name is on
+the back. What can he want?"</p>
+
+<p>"Give me the letter, child," said Mrs. Turner; "and do
+not let me hear you speak of any fellow-being with contempt,
+because he is ugly, fat, or old. Mr. Jenks is all the
+time doing kind things. I am sorry to hear that his wife
+is ill."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Turner opened the letter, read it, and said, while
+her face flushed, "Hear this, Miss Ruth, you who were so
+quick to speak ill of Mr. Jenks:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mrs. Turner</span>,&mdash;Wife and I have concluded to
+take the next steamer for England, not to be back till next
+October. You and your honest husband must at once go
+down with your family, and occupy my furnished cottage at
+Crescent Beach. Cellar and store-closet are well stocked
+with groceries. Use and consume every thing as if it were
+your own. Don't say <i>no</i>, but send me round word that you
+will do it. I don't like to leave the cottage empty."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth ran to a corner of the room, turned her face to the
+wall, and covered it with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Handsome is, that handsome does, Miss Ruth," cried
+little Anna.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Ruth, shall we accept the invitation?" said her
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>"On one condition," said Ruth, turning round; "and that
+is, that you let me go and thank Mr. Jenks myself for his
+great kindness. He is not old; he is not ugly; and, if he
+is fat, so much the better."</p>
+
+<p>The good grocer's offer was gratefully accepted. The
+little girls now pass most of the summer days on the beach,
+where they pick up shells, and pretty white stones, or bathe
+in the salt ocean. Every morning brings fresh delights.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+Anna has rosy cheeks once more, and as for Ellen, she sits
+on the rocks, and sketches, or writes poetry, every day.</p>
+
+<p>Ruth has broken herself of the bad habit of speaking ill
+of persons because of their looks. She knows now that a
+man may be "old, fat, and ugly," and at the same time be
+full of love and kindness.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Dora Burnside.</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: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus083.png" width="300" height="283" alt="RUTH&#39;S WISHES" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>RUTH'S WISHES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"<span class="smcap">I'd</span> like to be now<br />
+A bird on a bough,"<br />
+Said Ruth, one hot day<br />
+As she paused in her play:<br />
+"I'd like to be now<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>A bird on a bough.<br />
+<br />
+"To be like a fish<br />
+In the sea is my wish,<br />
+Where the water is cool,<br />
+And they go to no school:<br />
+To be like a fish<br />
+In the sea is my wish.<br />
+<br />
+"A squirrel I'd be<br />
+High up on a tree;<br />
+For he can go where<br />
+He gets plenty of air:<br />
+A squirrel I'd be<br />
+High up on a tree.<br />
+<br />
+"A stag in a wood<br />
+I'd be, if I could:<br />
+He can lie on the ground<br />
+Where 'tis cool all around:<br />
+A stag in a wood<br />
+I'd be, if I could."<br />
+<br />
+So wished, in her folly,<br />
+Ruth, holding her dolly;<br />
+The heat of the noon<br />
+Put her all out of tune:<br />
+So wished, in her folly,<br />
+Ruth, holding her dolly.<br />
+</div>
+
+<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_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 364px;">
+<img src="images/illus085.png" width="364" height="425" alt="Geese" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>PHILIP'S NEW WHIP.</h2>
+
+<div class='story'>
+<p><span class="smcap">Now</span>, what is all this noise
+about? The hens cackle and
+run about. The pig squeals.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
+Over the fence flies the old
+gander, and after him flies the
+goose. Now, what can be the
+matter?</p>
+
+<p>I will tell you. It all comes
+from this: our little Philip has
+had a present of a new whip;
+and the first thing he does with
+it is to see how his friends in
+the barn-yard like it.</p>
+
+<p>He does not like to try it on
+the horse or on the cow; for
+the horse can kick, and the cow
+can hook with her horns. So,
+like a little coward, he frightens
+the hens, and the poor geese,
+and the pig, shut up in his pen.</p>
+
+<p>I do not think it right. We
+ought to protect the weak, and
+not try to scare or hurt them.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='sig'>
+A. B. C.<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_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus087.png" width="500" height="332" alt="THE THREE LITTLE LADIES" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE THREE LITTLE LADIES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Now</span>, who can find out<br />
+What these three little ones are about?<br />
+Very busy, you see,<br />
+They all seem to be;<br />
+But what they are doing,<br />
+What work or what pleasure pursuing,<br />
+Is more than my wisdom can tell:<br />
+And are not you puzzled as well?<br />
+<br />
+One little lady is standing<br />
+On a cricket in posture commanding;<br />
+Another is pulling out pieces<br />
+From a drawer as fast as she pleases;<br />
+Another is bearing a roll&mdash;<br />
+But what for? It is all very droll.<br />
+And pray what is pussy about?<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>She joins in the frolic, no doubt.<br />
+<br />
+These three little ladies, my dear,<br />
+Know what they're about: that is clear.<br />
+'Tis something important, you see,<br />
+Though a puzzle to you and to me;<br />
+For they each look as grave as a judge:<br />
+So, old folks, don't laugh, and cry, "Fudge!"<br />
+It may be that your own great affairs<br />
+Are not any more useful than theirs.<br />
+</div>
+
+<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>GRANDMA'S STORY.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I am</span> only five years old; but I have a great deal of
+trouble. Papa pulls my ears, and calls me a sad rogue;
+brother Tom asks me every night what new mischief I have
+been up to today; and poor mamma sighs, and says I am
+the most troublesome child she ever saw.</p>
+
+<p>But dear good grandma looks up from her knitting, and
+smiles as she says, "Tut, tut, daughter! Our Amy isn't
+any worse than a little girl I knew some thirty years ago."</p>
+
+<p>"O grandma!" cried I one day, "do please tell me about
+her; for I like to hear about naughty little girls. What
+was her name, grandma?"</p>
+
+<p>Grandma looked over her spectacles at mamma and
+smiled, and mamma nodded and smiled back. Then grandma
+said, "I think I will tell you of one of little Clara's
+capers; but mind, you are not to go and do the same thing
+the first chance you get."</p>
+
+<p>This is the story as grandmother told it,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Little Clara lived on a farm away out in the country. She was the
+youngest of seven children, and a great pet, of course. But Clara's little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
+restless feet and mischievous fingers often brought her into trouble and
+disgrace.</p>
+
+<p>"One day Clara's mother had occasion to go to the store, which was
+three miles away. Clara wanted to go too. Her mother feared she
+would be in the way, and looked doubtful; but big brother Ben said,
+'Let her go, mother. She'll be good, I know.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes; let her go,' said Susan, who was trying to net a bead purse,
+and keep Clara's fingers out of her box of beads at the same time.</p></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus089.png" width="500" height="377" alt="Did she behave herself?" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"'Do let her go!' said Roger. 'I want to rig my ship this afternoon;
+and a fellow can't do much with her around.'</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"So it was decided that Clara should go; and it was the work of but
+a few moments to polish up the chubby face and hands, and brush the
+curly hair. The pink dress, red shoes, and white sun-bonnet, were put
+on as quickly as possible, and Clara was ready.</p>
+
+<p>"'Now, do try to behave yourself, child,' said Susan, as Ben lifted
+the little girl into the wagon.</p>
+
+<p>"'Of course I will,' replied Clara, pouting her red lips.</p>
+
+<p>"'But did she behave herself?' you ask. Ah! I will tell you.</p>
+
+<p>"When they reached the store, Mr. Dale, the storekeeper, came out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
+to assist them; and, as he helped Clara out of the wagon, he called her
+'a little lady,' which made her feel all of two inches taller than usual.
+Then he gave her a stick of candy, and lifted her to a seat on the
+counter, close beside a dear old pussy-cat, who purred loudly as the little
+girl smoothed her fur.</p>
+
+<p>"Clara's mother had a good many things to buy, and very soon forgot
+all about her little daughter; but when Ben came in, half an hour later,
+his first question was, 'Where's Clara, mother?'</p>
+
+<p>"Sure enough, where was Clara? Her seat was empty. She had
+disappeared. 'Clara, Clara!' called both her mother and Ben; but
+there was no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"'She's in some mischief,' said Ben; and, as quick as thought, he
+rushed into the back part of the store, followed by his mother and Mr.
+Dale. What a sight met their eyes! There stood Clara, in the centre
+of the room, stepping back slowly, as a pool of molasses, streaming
+steadily from a hogshead in the corner, crept towards the toes of her
+little red shoes. Ben caught up Clara as quick as a flash, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p></div>
+
+<p>"No, grandma," interrupted mamma, "it was Mr. Dale
+who did that, while Ben made haste to turn the faucet to
+prevent further mischief."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mamma," said I, "how do you know? Were you
+there?"</p>
+
+<p>"I heard about it," said she; and she and grandma both
+smiled. "The little girl was just my age, and I knew her
+very well."</p>
+
+<p>"And your names were both Clara," said I. "How
+queer!"</p>
+
+<p>And mamma and grandma must have thought it queer,
+too; for they both laughed heartily.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+F. A. B.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/illus090.png" width="250" height="164" alt="Nut" 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_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus091.png" width="500" height="433" alt="AUNT MATILDA" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>AUNT MATILDA.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">What</span> should we do in our house if it were not for our
+Aunt Matilda? She is the first one out of bed in the
+morning, and the last one to go to bed at night. She
+sees that things are right in the kitchen, and right in the
+parlor.</p>
+
+<p>Father wants his breakfast by half-past six o'clock this
+summer weather. Aunt Matilda rises before five, and calls
+the girls, and sees that the rooms are in order. Then she
+calls the children to be washed and dressed.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, that is a good likeness of her, as you see her combing
+my hair. She is not young, you perceive, nor yet very
+old. Sometimes I get a little impatient, and fidget, because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
+she is so particular; but our quarrels always end in my kissing
+her, and saying, "You are a darling Aunty, after all."</p>
+
+<p>Mother is an invalid: so she cannot do much house-work,
+or see to the children. But Aunt Matilda is mother, aunt,
+and house-maid, all in one. Sometimes she even acts as
+stable-boy, and harnesses the horse to the carryall; for
+there are few things that Aunty does not know how to do,
+and to do well.</p>
+
+<p>Do we go to school? Yes, and no. Our only school is
+one that Aunt Matilda keeps for us in the library. She
+teaches us to read, to write, and to draw. She can play on
+the piano, and has begun to teach me music. Oh! What
+<i>should</i> we all do without Aunt Matilda?</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Miss Maud.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>ANNA'S BIRD.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Anna</span> has a little bird, and she calls it Tot. You must
+try to find out from the picture what sort of a bird it is.
+It can sing and play; and it is so tame, that it will put its
+bill between Anna's lips when she says, "Kiss me, Tot."</p>
+
+<p>Her dog Fancy is quite fond of the bird, and will let it
+light on his head; and Anna is trying to make Muff, the
+cat, give up her habit of killing birds. But I hope that
+Anna will be careful, and not trust Muff too far.</p>
+
+<p>I have heard of a cat in a bird-shop, that was trained to
+take care of birds, instead of harming them; but this is a
+rare case. It is hard to keep a cat from catching birds, and
+from troubling the little young ones in their nests.</p>
+
+<p>Anna is so fond of Tot, that she will not let a cat come
+into the room where he is. Tot can whistle a tune. He
+likes to light on Anna's head, and will sometimes almost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
+hide himself under her thick hair. She feeds him, and gives
+him a bath every day, and lets him fly about the room.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 315px;">
+<img src="images/illus093.png" width="315" height="425" alt="ANNA&#39;S BIRD" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>If Tot were to fly out of the window, I think he would
+try to get back to his own little cage, so fond is he of Anna.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Anna's Aunt.</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_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE STORY OF THE SQUASHES.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I know</span> of two little boys, twin-brothers, who are just five
+years old. They are so nearly alike that their best friends
+can scarcely tell them apart. Sturdy little men they are;
+so strong and fair and stout, that I should be glad to kiss
+them even when they have come from the dirtiest depths
+of their mud-pies. I fancy their mother sighs often over
+their torn pantaloons, their battered hats, and their soiled
+boots; but for all that, they <i>must</i> play, and things will
+wear out.</p>
+
+<p>One day in the fall, their papa sent up to the house a
+farmer's wagon full of great beautiful squashes, to be put
+into the cellar for the winter's use. The farmer put the
+squashes on the ground close by the cellar-door ready for
+storage. But, when their papa came home, the squashes
+had disappeared, and he inquired who had put them into
+the cellar, and went down to see if they had been properly
+stored.</p>
+
+<p>But there were no squashes there. And he inquired
+again where they were; but no one knew. He called to the
+boys, who were playing horse on the sidewalk, to ask if they
+knew any thing of the squashes. Oh, yes! and they ran
+to the barn, he following; and where do you suppose the
+squashes were? In the pig-pen&mdash;every one of them!</p>
+
+<p>They had toiled and tugged, and carried every squash&mdash;and
+many of them were large&mdash;out there, and fed them to
+the pigs.</p>
+
+<p>The mischief done, who could scold those two bright,
+hard-working little men? I think their papa had to console
+himself with thinking if only they would work as well at
+something useful when they were grown up, he could forgive
+their rather wasteful business when they were little.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+C. D. 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_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>CHARLIE'S COMPOSITION.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Charlie</span> was ten years old, and his teacher thought he
+should begin to write compositions. So she gave him a list
+of words, and told him to write a letter or story, and put
+them all in.</p>
+
+<p>The words were these: Begun, Write, Boy, Hook, Two,
+Black, Said, Basket, Knife, Chair, Eyes, Ground.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie went home; and, before he went out to play
+in the afternoon, his mother said, "You had better work
+a while on your composition."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I never can do it!" he said. "Mother, you try
+too, and see if you can write one." So she took his list and
+wrote this true story,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"A little <i>boy</i> with roguish <i>black eyes</i> was sitting on the floor, playing
+with some spools that he had taken from his mother's work-<i>basket</i>, which
+she had left in a <i>chair</i>. All at once he saw a cow coming up the yard.
+He dropped every thing, and ran to drive her out. She threw up her
+head, and looked so fierce, that he was afraid she would <i>hook</i> him, and
+back he ran to the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Then he spied a fruit-<i>knife</i> on the <i>ground</i>, where he had left it when
+he was eating an apple in the morning. He picked it up, and carried it
+to his mother, who had just <i>begun</i> to <i>write</i>, and she <i>said</i>, that, if he would
+keep still about <i>two</i> minutes, she would attend to him."</p></div>
+
+<p>"There," said mamma, "I have put in all the words:
+now you try, Charlie."</p>
+
+<p>Charlie then wrote:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"I saw <i>two hooks</i> and <i>eyes</i> just as I had begun to <i>write</i>. Johnny
+brought mother's <i>knife</i>, which he found lying on the <i>ground</i>. He joggled
+mother's <i>chair</i>, and she <i>said</i>, 'There's a <i>black</i> mark on my paper, and
+oh, dear! the <i>boy</i> has tipped over my <i>basket</i>.' That's all."</p></div>
+
+<p>His mother read what Charlie had written, and said,
+"Pretty good for the first time;" and off he went to play.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+L. J. D.<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_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus096.png" width="500" height="219" alt="THE PEDLAR." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE PEDLAR.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus096-music.png" width="500" height="542" 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/sept77.mid">here</a>.]</small><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+1. I wish I liv'd in a caravan<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a horse to drive like a pedlar-man,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wherever he comes from nobody knows,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But merrily thro' the town he goes.</span><br />
+<br />
+2. His caravan it is painted blue,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a chimney small where the smoke comes thro';</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And there is his wife with baby so brown,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And onward they go from town to town.</span><br />
+<br />
+3. "Old chairs to mend, and new jugs to sell,"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How he makes the basins ring like a bell!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With baskets and tea-trays glossy and trim,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And plates with my name around the brim.</span><br />
+<br />
+4. A pedlar-man I should like to roam,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And a book I'd write when I came back home;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And all the good folks would study my book,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And famous I'd be like Captain Cook.</span><br />
+</div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3>
+<p>The July edition of the Nursery had a table of contents for the next
+six issues of the year. This table was divided to cover each specific
+issue. A title page copied from this same July edition was also used for
+this number and the issue number added after the Volume number.
+</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nursery, September 1877, Vol. XXII, 
+No. 3, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, SEPTEMBER 1877 ***
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+</body>
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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	66999fc303c17f720ebf3fd025c5fa61fef9274e (patch)
tree	544f772ffe28459d21befa946789d7c8bdf11737 /28137-h