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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28137-8.txt b/28137-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..efaae3d --- /dev/null +++ b/28137-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1403 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, September 1877, 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. + + + + + + + + +THE + +NURSERY + + +_A Monthly Magazine_ + + +FOR YOUNGEST READERS. + + +VOLUME XXII.--No. 3. + + + BOSTON: + JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET, + 1877. + + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by + JOHN L. SHOREY, + In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. + + + FRANKLIN PRESS: + RAND, AVERY, AND COMPANY, + 117 FRANKLIN STREET, + BOSTON. + + + + +[Illustration: Contents.] + + +IN PROSE. + + PAGE + Introduced to the Atlantic Ocean 65 + Roses and Insects 68 + Garry and the Rake 71 + A true Story of a Partridge 74 + A Letter from Minnesota 76 + The lazy Shepherd 77 + Seventh Lesson in Astronomy 79 + A Sight of the Ocean 81 + Philip's new Whip 85 + Grandma's Story 88 + Aunt Matilda 91 + Anna's Bird 92 + The Story of the Squashes 94 + Charlie's Composition 95 + + +IN VERSE. + + PAGE + Top-Knot 70 + Crossing the Brook with Harry 72 + How to draw a Pig 80 + Ruth's Wishes 83 + The three little Ladies 87 + The Pedlar (_with music_) 96 + +[Illustration: VOL. XXII.--NO. 3.] + + + + +INTRODUCED TO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. + + +"[Illustration: N]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." + +"Oh! I don't want to go any further. I'm afraid of the Atlantic Ocean," +cried little Kate Logan. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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. + +"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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +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. + +All laughed, and little Kate laughed louder than any of them. "The +Atlantic Ocean didn't get me that time," she said. + +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. + +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. + + IDA FAY. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +ROSES AND INSECTS. + + +WHAT sort of insects are a-phiŽdes? 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. (_Aphis_ is the +singular noun, and _aphides_ its plural form.) But enough of aphis +enemies, and now for the friends, which, as well as foes, they owe to +the sweet milk--the honey-dew--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. + +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. + +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. + + UNCLE CHARLES. + +[Illustration] + + + + +TOP-KNOT. + + + PRETTY Biddy Top-knot has a hidden nest, + Out among the willows stretching toward the west: + Every day she runs there on her yellow legs, + To count and add another to her store of eggs. + + Top-knot soon is missing from the garden walks: + No more with the other hens struts about and stalks! + No more is her cackle from the willows heard, + Where, but late, she noisily all the barn-yard stirred. + + Down among the willows, stretching toward the west, + Top-knot's snowy turban shows above her nest: + Slanting ray of sunshine peeps in very bright; + Come and peep in with it, you shall see a sight. + + Thirteen little chickens, downiest ever seen, + And joyous little Top-knot proud as any queen! + For that they are beauties all the hens agree: + Can you wonder Top-knot should so happy be? + + Full of her importance, Top-knot doth appear,-- + Thirteen little chickens she must feed and rear! + Soon more hens are missing!--are they lost or hid? + Think you they'll surprise us just as Top-knot did? + + FLETA F. + +[Illustration] + + + + +GARRY AND THE RAKE. + + +ONE 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. + +So off he ran, and soon came back with an _iron_ 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. + +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." + +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." + +"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. + +Wasn't that a bright idea for a little boy five and a half years old? + + M. + + + + +CROSSING THE BROOK WITH HARRY. + + + NOW, Harry, don't fear, + I will carry you, dear: + So keep very quiet and steady: + The brook is not wide, + Nor swift is the tide: + Now, for it, my pet--are you ready? + So over the stones we will go, + With step very careful and slow. + + I never have slipped + As o'er them I tripped; + But then I had nothing to carry: + Now I must take heed, + The more haste, the worse speed; + For I bear in my arms little Harry: + So over the stones we will go, + With step very careful and slow. + + Almost every bird + That ever I heard, + On the bank there seems now to be singing; + And I smell the sweet hay + From the field by the way; + The wind all its odor is bringing: + So over the stones we will go, + With step very careful and slow. + +[Illustration] + + EMILY CARTER. + + + + +A TRUE STORY OF A PARTRIDGE. + + +I WONDER 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. + +[Illustration] + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + DORA'S MAMMA. + +[Illustration] + + + + +A LETTER FROM MINNESOTA. + + +WHEN "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. + +[Illustration] + +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. + +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. + +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. + +I think we shall have to name him Willie Winkie, because he opens and +shuts his eyes so often and so quickly. + +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. + + C. R. S. + ST. PAUL, MINN. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE LAZY SHEPHERD. + + +SOME 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. + +"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 leisure for reading and for study, and at the same +time not neglect your proper duties. + +"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." + +Henry Bright first suited himself to a good dog, and taught him so well, +that Plato--such was the dog's name--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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +Oh the days of youth, how precious they are! Do not be like the lazy +shepherd, my little friends! + + UNCLE CHARLES. + + + + +SEVENTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY. + + +YOU 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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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--and our earth among them--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? + +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. + + M. E. R. + + + + +HOW TO DRAW A PIG. + + +[Illustration] + + The Body of Piggy is shaped like a bean. + Except when he's poor and uncommonly lean. + + Then give him an ear and a long handsome snout + For the last is so useful in rooting about. + + Then a bright little eye he must have without fail + At the other end of him a small curly tail. + + Then give him four feet and you have a whole pig + Who can run for his food be he little or big. + +[Illustration] + + + + +A SIGHT OF THE OCEAN. + + +"OH, 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. + +"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." + +"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. + +"Let us all shut our eyes, and imagine ourselves on the beach," said +Ellen, who was the poetess of the family. + +At that moment, the postman's knock at the door gave promise of a +letter. Ruth ran to get it, and, returning in a 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?" + +"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." + +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:-- + +"DEAR MRS. TURNER,--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 +_no_, but send me round word that you will do it. I don't like to leave +the cottage empty." + +Ruth ran to a corner of the room, turned her face to the wall, and +covered it with her hands. + +"Handsome is, that handsome does, Miss Ruth," cried little Anna. + +"Well, Ruth, shall we accept the invitation?" said her mother. + +"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." + +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. Anna has rosy cheeks once more, and as for +Ellen, she sits on the rocks, and sketches, or writes poetry, every day. + +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. + + DORA BURNSIDE. + +[Illustration] + + + + +RUTH'S WISHES. + + + "I'D like to be now + A bird on a bough," + Said Ruth, one hot day + As she paused in her play: + "I'd like to be now + A bird on a bough. + + "To be like a fish + In the sea is my wish, + Where the water is cool, + And they go to no school: + To be like a fish + In the sea is my wish. + + "A squirrel I'd be + High up on a tree; + For he can go where + He gets plenty of air: + A squirrel I'd be + High up on a tree. + + "A stag in a wood + I'd be, if I could: + He can lie on the ground + Where 'tis cool all around: + A stag in a wood + I'd be, if I could." + + So wished, in her folly, + Ruth, holding her dolly; + The heat of the noon + Put her all out of tune: + So wished, in her folly, + Ruth, holding her dolly. + + EMILY CARTER. + +[Illustration] + + + + +PHILIP'S NEW WHIP. + + +NOW, what is all this noise about? The hens cackle and run about. The +pig squeals. Over the fence flies the old gander, and after him flies +the goose. Now, what can be the matter? + +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. + +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. + +I do not think it right. We ought to protect the weak, and not try to +scare or hurt them. + + A. B. C. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE THREE LITTLE LADIES. + + + NOW, who can find out + What these three little ones are about? + Very busy, you see, + They all seem to be; + But what they are doing, + What work or what pleasure pursuing, + Is more than my wisdom can tell: + And are not you puzzled as well? + + One little lady is standing + On a cricket in posture commanding; + Another is pulling out pieces + From a drawer as fast as she pleases; + Another is bearing a roll-- + But what for? It is all very droll. + And pray what is pussy about? + She joins in the frolic, no doubt. + + These three little ladies, my dear, + Know what they're about: that is clear. + 'Tis something important, you see, + Though a puzzle to you and to me; + For they each look as grave as a judge: + So, old folks, don't laugh, and cry, "Fudge!" + It may be that your own great affairs + Are not any more useful than theirs. + + ALFRED SELWYN. + + + + +GRANDMA'S STORY. + + +I AM 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. + +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." + +"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?" + +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." + +This is the story as grandmother told it,-- + + "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 + restless feet and mischievous fingers often + brought her into trouble and disgrace. + + "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.' + + "'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. + +[Illustration] + +"'Do let her go!' said Roger. 'I want to rig my ship this afternoon; and +a fellow can't do much with her around.' + + "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. + + "'Now, do try to behave yourself, child,' said + Susan, as Ben lifted the little girl into the + wagon. + + "'Of course I will,' replied Clara, pouting her + red lips. + + "'But did she behave herself?' you ask. Ah! I will + tell you. + + "When they reached the store, Mr. Dale, the + storekeeper, came out 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. + + "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?' + + "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. + + "'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----" + +"No, grandma," interrupted mamma, "it was Mr. Dale who did that, while +Ben made haste to turn the faucet to prevent further mischief." + +"Why, mamma," said I, "how do you know? Were you there?" + +"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." + +"And your names were both Clara," said I. "How queer!" + +And mamma and grandma must have thought it queer, too; for they both +laughed heartily. + + F. A. B. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +AUNT MATILDA. + + +WHAT 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. + +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. + +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 she is so particular; but our quarrels +always end in my kissing her, and saying, "You are a darling Aunty, +after all." + +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. + +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 _should_ we all do without Aunt Matilda? + + MISS MAUD. + + + + +ANNA'S BIRD. + + +ANNA 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." + +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. + +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. + +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 hide himself under her thick hair. She feeds +him, and gives him a bath every day, and lets him fly about the room. + +[Illustration] + +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. + + ANNA'S AUNT. + + + + +THE STORY OF THE SQUASHES. + + +I KNOW 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 _must_ play, and things will wear out. + +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. + +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--every one of them! + +They had toiled and tugged, and carried every squash--and many of them +were large--out there, and fed them to the pigs. + +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. + + C. D. B. + + + + +CHARLIE'S COMPOSITION. + + +CHARLIE 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. + +The words were these: Begun, Write, Boy, Hook, Two, Black, Said, Basket, +Knife, Chair, Eyes, Ground. + +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." + +"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,-- + + "A little _boy_ with roguish _black eyes_ was + sitting on the floor, playing with some spools + that he had taken from his mother's work-_basket_, + which she had left in a _chair_. 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 _hook_ him, and back he ran to the house. + + "Then he spied a fruit-_knife_ on the _ground_, + 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 _begun_ to _write_, and + she _said_, that, if he would keep still about + _two_ minutes, she would attend to him." + +"There," said mamma, "I have put in all the words: now you try, +Charlie." + +Charlie then wrote:-- + + "I saw _two hooks_ and _eyes_ just as I had begun + to _write_. Johnny brought mother's _knife_, which + he found lying on the _ground_. He joggled + mother's _chair_, and she _said_, 'There's a + _black_ mark on my paper, and oh, dear! the _boy_ + has tipped over my _basket_.' That's all." + +His mother read what Charlie had written, and said, "Pretty good for the +first time;" and off he went to play. + + L. J. D. + +[Illustration: THE PEDLAR.] + + + + + +THE PEDLAR. + + Music by T. CRAMPTON, + Chiswick, W. London. + +[Illustration: Music] + + 1. I wish I liv'd in a caravan + With a horse to drive like a pedlar-man, + Wherever he comes from nobody knows, + But merrily thro' the town he goes. + + 2. His caravan it is painted blue, + With a chimney small where the smoke comes thro'; + And there is his wife with baby so brown, + And onward they go from town to town. + + 3. "Old chairs to mend, and new jugs to sell," + How he makes the basins ring like a bell! + With baskets and tea-trays glossy and trim, + And plates with my name around the brim. + + 4. A pedlar-man I should like to roam, + And a book I'd write when I came back home; + And all the good folks would study my book, + And famous I'd be like Captain Cook. + + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes: + +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. + + + + + +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 *** + +***** This file should be named 28137-8.txt or 28137-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/1/3/28137/ + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Nursery, 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.—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'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Introduced to the Atlantic Ocean </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'> </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>) </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.—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´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—the honey-dew—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,—<br /> +Thirteen little chickens she must feed and rear!<br /> +Soon more hens are missing!—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—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—such was the dog's name—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—and our earth among them—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:—</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mrs. Turner</span>,—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'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—<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,—</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——"</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'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—every one of them!</p> + +<p>They had toiled and tugged, and carried every squash—and +many of them were large—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,—</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:—</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 *** + +***** This file should be named 28137-h.htm or 28137-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/1/3/28137/ + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. 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b/28137-page-images/p096.png diff --git a/28137.txt b/28137.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6aed30a --- /dev/null +++ b/28137.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1403 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, September 1877, 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: ASCII + +*** 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. + + + + + + + + +THE + +NURSERY + + +_A Monthly Magazine_ + + +FOR YOUNGEST READERS. + + +VOLUME XXII.--No. 3. + + + BOSTON: + JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET, + 1877. + + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by + JOHN L. SHOREY, + In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. + + + FRANKLIN PRESS: + RAND, AVERY, AND COMPANY, + 117 FRANKLIN STREET, + BOSTON. + + + + +[Illustration: Contents.] + + +IN PROSE. + + PAGE + Introduced to the Atlantic Ocean 65 + Roses and Insects 68 + Garry and the Rake 71 + A true Story of a Partridge 74 + A Letter from Minnesota 76 + The lazy Shepherd 77 + Seventh Lesson in Astronomy 79 + A Sight of the Ocean 81 + Philip's new Whip 85 + Grandma's Story 88 + Aunt Matilda 91 + Anna's Bird 92 + The Story of the Squashes 94 + Charlie's Composition 95 + + +IN VERSE. + + PAGE + Top-Knot 70 + Crossing the Brook with Harry 72 + How to draw a Pig 80 + Ruth's Wishes 83 + The three little Ladies 87 + The Pedlar (_with music_) 96 + +[Illustration: VOL. XXII.--NO. 3.] + + + + +INTRODUCED TO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. + + +"[Illustration: N]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." + +"Oh! I don't want to go any further. I'm afraid of the Atlantic Ocean," +cried little Kate Logan. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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. + +"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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +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. + +All laughed, and little Kate laughed louder than any of them. "The +Atlantic Ocean didn't get me that time," she said. + +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. + +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. + + IDA FAY. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +ROSES AND INSECTS. + + +WHAT sort of insects are a-phi'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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. (_Aphis_ is the +singular noun, and _aphides_ its plural form.) But enough of aphis +enemies, and now for the friends, which, as well as foes, they owe to +the sweet milk--the honey-dew--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. + +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. + +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. + + UNCLE CHARLES. + +[Illustration] + + + + +TOP-KNOT. + + + PRETTY Biddy Top-knot has a hidden nest, + Out among the willows stretching toward the west: + Every day she runs there on her yellow legs, + To count and add another to her store of eggs. + + Top-knot soon is missing from the garden walks: + No more with the other hens struts about and stalks! + No more is her cackle from the willows heard, + Where, but late, she noisily all the barn-yard stirred. + + Down among the willows, stretching toward the west, + Top-knot's snowy turban shows above her nest: + Slanting ray of sunshine peeps in very bright; + Come and peep in with it, you shall see a sight. + + Thirteen little chickens, downiest ever seen, + And joyous little Top-knot proud as any queen! + For that they are beauties all the hens agree: + Can you wonder Top-knot should so happy be? + + Full of her importance, Top-knot doth appear,-- + Thirteen little chickens she must feed and rear! + Soon more hens are missing!--are they lost or hid? + Think you they'll surprise us just as Top-knot did? + + FLETA F. + +[Illustration] + + + + +GARRY AND THE RAKE. + + +ONE 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. + +So off he ran, and soon came back with an _iron_ 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. + +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." + +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." + +"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. + +Wasn't that a bright idea for a little boy five and a half years old? + + M. + + + + +CROSSING THE BROOK WITH HARRY. + + + NOW, Harry, don't fear, + I will carry you, dear: + So keep very quiet and steady: + The brook is not wide, + Nor swift is the tide: + Now, for it, my pet--are you ready? + So over the stones we will go, + With step very careful and slow. + + I never have slipped + As o'er them I tripped; + But then I had nothing to carry: + Now I must take heed, + The more haste, the worse speed; + For I bear in my arms little Harry: + So over the stones we will go, + With step very careful and slow. + + Almost every bird + That ever I heard, + On the bank there seems now to be singing; + And I smell the sweet hay + From the field by the way; + The wind all its odor is bringing: + So over the stones we will go, + With step very careful and slow. + +[Illustration] + + EMILY CARTER. + + + + +A TRUE STORY OF A PARTRIDGE. + + +I WONDER 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. + +[Illustration] + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + DORA'S MAMMA. + +[Illustration] + + + + +A LETTER FROM MINNESOTA. + + +WHEN "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. + +[Illustration] + +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. + +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. + +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. + +I think we shall have to name him Willie Winkie, because he opens and +shuts his eyes so often and so quickly. + +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. + + C. R. S. + ST. PAUL, MINN. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE LAZY SHEPHERD. + + +SOME 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. + +"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 leisure for reading and for study, and at the same +time not neglect your proper duties. + +"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." + +Henry Bright first suited himself to a good dog, and taught him so well, +that Plato--such was the dog's name--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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +Oh the days of youth, how precious they are! Do not be like the lazy +shepherd, my little friends! + + UNCLE CHARLES. + + + + +SEVENTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY. + + +YOU 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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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--and our earth among them--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? + +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. + + M. E. R. + + + + +HOW TO DRAW A PIG. + + +[Illustration] + + The Body of Piggy is shaped like a bean. + Except when he's poor and uncommonly lean. + + Then give him an ear and a long handsome snout + For the last is so useful in rooting about. + + Then a bright little eye he must have without fail + At the other end of him a small curly tail. + + Then give him four feet and you have a whole pig + Who can run for his food be he little or big. + +[Illustration] + + + + +A SIGHT OF THE OCEAN. + + +"OH, 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. + +"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." + +"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. + +"Let us all shut our eyes, and imagine ourselves on the beach," said +Ellen, who was the poetess of the family. + +At that moment, the postman's knock at the door gave promise of a +letter. Ruth ran to get it, and, returning in a 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?" + +"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." + +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:-- + +"DEAR MRS. TURNER,--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 +_no_, but send me round word that you will do it. I don't like to leave +the cottage empty." + +Ruth ran to a corner of the room, turned her face to the wall, and +covered it with her hands. + +"Handsome is, that handsome does, Miss Ruth," cried little Anna. + +"Well, Ruth, shall we accept the invitation?" said her mother. + +"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." + +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. Anna has rosy cheeks once more, and as for +Ellen, she sits on the rocks, and sketches, or writes poetry, every day. + +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. + + DORA BURNSIDE. + +[Illustration] + + + + +RUTH'S WISHES. + + + "I'D like to be now + A bird on a bough," + Said Ruth, one hot day + As she paused in her play: + "I'd like to be now + A bird on a bough. + + "To be like a fish + In the sea is my wish, + Where the water is cool, + And they go to no school: + To be like a fish + In the sea is my wish. + + "A squirrel I'd be + High up on a tree; + For he can go where + He gets plenty of air: + A squirrel I'd be + High up on a tree. + + "A stag in a wood + I'd be, if I could: + He can lie on the ground + Where 'tis cool all around: + A stag in a wood + I'd be, if I could." + + So wished, in her folly, + Ruth, holding her dolly; + The heat of the noon + Put her all out of tune: + So wished, in her folly, + Ruth, holding her dolly. + + EMILY CARTER. + +[Illustration] + + + + +PHILIP'S NEW WHIP. + + +NOW, what is all this noise about? The hens cackle and run about. The +pig squeals. Over the fence flies the old gander, and after him flies +the goose. Now, what can be the matter? + +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. + +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. + +I do not think it right. We ought to protect the weak, and not try to +scare or hurt them. + + A. B. C. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE THREE LITTLE LADIES. + + + NOW, who can find out + What these three little ones are about? + Very busy, you see, + They all seem to be; + But what they are doing, + What work or what pleasure pursuing, + Is more than my wisdom can tell: + And are not you puzzled as well? + + One little lady is standing + On a cricket in posture commanding; + Another is pulling out pieces + From a drawer as fast as she pleases; + Another is bearing a roll-- + But what for? It is all very droll. + And pray what is pussy about? + She joins in the frolic, no doubt. + + These three little ladies, my dear, + Know what they're about: that is clear. + 'Tis something important, you see, + Though a puzzle to you and to me; + For they each look as grave as a judge: + So, old folks, don't laugh, and cry, "Fudge!" + It may be that your own great affairs + Are not any more useful than theirs. + + ALFRED SELWYN. + + + + +GRANDMA'S STORY. + + +I AM 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. + +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." + +"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?" + +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." + +This is the story as grandmother told it,-- + + "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 + restless feet and mischievous fingers often + brought her into trouble and disgrace. + + "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.' + + "'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. + +[Illustration] + +"'Do let her go!' said Roger. 'I want to rig my ship this afternoon; and +a fellow can't do much with her around.' + + "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. + + "'Now, do try to behave yourself, child,' said + Susan, as Ben lifted the little girl into the + wagon. + + "'Of course I will,' replied Clara, pouting her + red lips. + + "'But did she behave herself?' you ask. Ah! I will + tell you. + + "When they reached the store, Mr. Dale, the + storekeeper, came out 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. + + "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?' + + "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. + + "'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----" + +"No, grandma," interrupted mamma, "it was Mr. Dale who did that, while +Ben made haste to turn the faucet to prevent further mischief." + +"Why, mamma," said I, "how do you know? Were you there?" + +"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." + +"And your names were both Clara," said I. "How queer!" + +And mamma and grandma must have thought it queer, too; for they both +laughed heartily. + + F. A. B. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +AUNT MATILDA. + + +WHAT 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. + +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. + +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 she is so particular; but our quarrels +always end in my kissing her, and saying, "You are a darling Aunty, +after all." + +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. + +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 _should_ we all do without Aunt Matilda? + + MISS MAUD. + + + + +ANNA'S BIRD. + + +ANNA 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." + +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. + +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. + +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 hide himself under her thick hair. She feeds +him, and gives him a bath every day, and lets him fly about the room. + +[Illustration] + +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. + + ANNA'S AUNT. + + + + +THE STORY OF THE SQUASHES. + + +I KNOW 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 _must_ play, and things will wear out. + +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. + +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--every one of them! + +They had toiled and tugged, and carried every squash--and many of them +were large--out there, and fed them to the pigs. + +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. + + C. D. B. + + + + +CHARLIE'S COMPOSITION. + + +CHARLIE 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. + +The words were these: Begun, Write, Boy, Hook, Two, Black, Said, Basket, +Knife, Chair, Eyes, Ground. + +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." + +"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,-- + + "A little _boy_ with roguish _black eyes_ was + sitting on the floor, playing with some spools + that he had taken from his mother's work-_basket_, + which she had left in a _chair_. 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 _hook_ him, and back he ran to the house. + + "Then he spied a fruit-_knife_ on the _ground_, + 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 _begun_ to _write_, and + she _said_, that, if he would keep still about + _two_ minutes, she would attend to him." + +"There," said mamma, "I have put in all the words: now you try, +Charlie." + +Charlie then wrote:-- + + "I saw _two hooks_ and _eyes_ just as I had begun + to _write_. Johnny brought mother's _knife_, which + he found lying on the _ground_. He joggled + mother's _chair_, and she _said_, 'There's a + _black_ mark on my paper, and oh, dear! the _boy_ + has tipped over my _basket_.' That's all." + +His mother read what Charlie had written, and said, "Pretty good for the +first time;" and off he went to play. + + L. J. D. + +[Illustration: THE PEDLAR.] + + + + + +THE PEDLAR. + + Music by T. CRAMPTON, + Chiswick, W. London. + +[Illustration: Music] + + 1. I wish I liv'd in a caravan + With a horse to drive like a pedlar-man, + Wherever he comes from nobody knows, + But merrily thro' the town he goes. + + 2. His caravan it is painted blue, + With a chimney small where the smoke comes thro'; + And there is his wife with baby so brown, + And onward they go from town to town. + + 3. "Old chairs to mend, and new jugs to sell," + How he makes the basins ring like a bell! + With baskets and tea-trays glossy and trim, + And plates with my name around the brim. + + 4. A pedlar-man I should like to roam, + And a book I'd write when I came back home; + And all the good folks would study my book, + And famous I'd be like Captain Cook. + + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes: + +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. + + + + + +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 *** + +***** This file should be named 28137.txt or 28137.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/1/3/28137/ + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. 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