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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nursery, February 1878, Vol. XXIII., by Various.
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, February 1878, Vol. XXIII, No. 2, 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, February 1878, Vol. XXIII, No. 2
+       A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 20, 2009 [EBook #28141]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, FEBRUARY 1878 ***
+
+
+
+
+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 XXIII.&mdash;No. 2.<br /></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>Contents.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>IN PROSE.</h3>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents in Prose">
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Ebony and Lucy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Daisy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>My First Attempt at Fishing</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>New Method of Catching Mice</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Jamie Canfield's Sand-Heap</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Dick's Dream</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Drawing Lesson</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Romeo the Shirk</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Tied Not Mated</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>My Kitten</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Lesson in Flying</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>How Little Edith Went to Sleep&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<h3><br />IN VERSE</h3>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents in Verse">
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Terrible Trio</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Shy Little Pansy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Song for Baby</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Three Little Chicks</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Mother's Last Look</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"Lullaby!"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Blow, Blow, East Wind (<i>with music</i>)&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus033.png" width="500" height="353" alt="VOL. XXIII.&mdash;No. 2." 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_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
+<h2>EBONY AND LUCY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 119px;">
+<img src="images/illus034.png" width="119" height="125" alt="E" title="" />
+</div><div class='unindent'><br /><br />BONY is the name of Lucy's black dog. I will
+leave you to guess why he is so called.</div>
+
+<p>On a bright, cold winter day, when no wind
+was stirring, and the ice of the pond was
+smooth as glass, Lucy went out, followed by
+Ebony. Such joyful barking as there was!</p>
+
+<p>Her father knew that the good dog would pull her out of
+the water, if the ice should break through. But the day
+was so cold, there was little danger from thin ice.</p>
+
+<p>A bright idea occurred to Lucy when she had put on her
+skates. She had scarfs and handkerchiefs with her, and,
+tying three or four of these together, she made a noose,
+which she threw over Ebony's head. Thus she held him, so
+that he could pull her on her skates over the ice.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Ebony, let us see how fast you can go," said Lucy.
+Ebony started at a full gallop; and she began to sing,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"We issue no tickets, we close no gate,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">We blow no whistle, and nobody's late;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Our train is off as soon as we're in it;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">We go at the rate of ten miles a minute,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">(And that is six hundred miles an hour!)&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For ours is an engine of one-dog power;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But that dog's Ebony, bold and fleet,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">A dog, you'll find, that is hard to beat:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So look out, stragglers and tramps! I guess</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">You'd better not trifle with our express!"</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>Hardly had Lucy finished her song, when Ebony, who
+had been going at great speed for some distance, slipped on
+his haunches, where the ice was very smooth, and, sliding
+along, fell over on his side.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy fell too, but she was not hurt. "You good Ebony,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
+said she. "You have done well. But it is too bad to
+make you play the part of a locomotive engine. And
+so, old fellow, I will take off your harness, and let you go
+free."</p>
+
+<p>Then Lucy took the scarf from the dog's neck, and darted
+off alone on her skates to a part of the pond where her
+brother Felix had just had a tumble on the ice.</p>
+
+<p>But Ebony would not forsake her. He kept close at her
+heels; for he knew there was water underneath the ice,
+and he meant to be near at hand, should any accident
+happen. I am glad to say, that, after a good frolic on the
+ice, they reached home safely in time for dinner.</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>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/illus035.png" width="350" height="246" alt="Terrible Trio" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE TERRIBLE TRIO.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">These</span> are the robbers,&mdash;the terrible three!<br />
+In showing no mercy they all agree;<br />
+They fill the woods with their war-whoops dire:<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>Policemen and soldiers, beware, retire!<br />
+<br />
+Rinaldo's the name of the captain: you learn<br />
+His rank from his cap, and his frown so stern.<br />
+The next is Grimaldi, a desperate fellow!<br />
+His eyes they are blue, and his hair it is yellow.<br />
+<br />
+The youngest but dreadfulest of them all<br />
+Has a terrible name that I cannot recall:<br />
+'Tis hard to pronounce; and it's well, perhaps,<br />
+That memory here has suffered a lapse.<br />
+<br />
+Oh! doesn't it make you all shudder to look<br />
+At their likenesses even, all here in a book?&mdash;<br />
+Rinaldo the fierce, and Grimaldi the grim,<br />
+And that young, nameless bandit, so bold and so trim.<br />
+<br />
+But if you should meet with this terrible band,<br />
+Now don't run away, but come quick to a stand:<br />
+Be humble and quiet, and don't act amiss,<br />
+And all that they'll rob you of, will be&mdash;a kiss!<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Ida Fay.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/illus036.png" width="350" height="195" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus037.png" width="500" height="377" alt="Daisy" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>DAISY.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">A friend</span> of mine, Mr. S., had a beautiful colt named
+Daisy, who was the pet of all the family. She was so tame
+she would put her head in at the open windows to see what
+was going on in the house; and very often, when she saw
+the front-door open, she would go up the steps of the
+piazza, and deliberately march into the hall. No one ever
+struck Daisy with a whip, or even a switch. A little slap
+of the hand, and a "Go out, Daisy," were all that were
+necessary.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. S. had a new cook; and one day she set a pan of
+custard on the back-porch to cool. When she went out to
+get it, an hour or two after, she found nothing but the empty
+pan. Molly ran to Mrs. S. in great distress, and told her of
+the loss of the custard. "Ah!" said Mrs. S., "then Daisy
+has eaten it." And, sure enough, Daisy was the thief.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Another time the naughty colt put her head in the kitchen-window,
+and ate up some apple-pies that were on the table.
+All this was very bad indeed, but Daisy was always forgiven
+because she was so lovely and gentle. She would follow
+any of the family about the grounds, and rub her head
+against them to show how much she loved them.</p>
+
+<p>One day a man came to Mr. S.'s house to make a visit.
+He was not in the habit of visiting the family, and so had
+not made Daisy's acquaintance. After tea, Mr. S. and his
+visitor were standing on the piazza, when Daisy came trotting
+up, as she always did when she saw one of the family
+there, and opened her mouth, expecting Mr. S. to put a
+piece of bread or apple in. The stranger did not understand
+this little trick, and (coarse man that he was!) spat a
+quantity of tobacco-juice into Daisy's face. Poor little
+Daisy! She hung her head down, and walked off under the
+trees, where she stood looking very miserable.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning Mr. S. asked his visitor to walk with
+him through his grounds; and, as they were walking along,
+they passed a place where Daisy, who still looked as if she
+felt insulted and injured, was quietly grazing.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she saw her enemy (as she must have considered
+him), she pricked up her ears as if some happy idea
+had come into her head. She gave herself a little shake,
+and, walking behind him until she was quite near, suddenly
+wheeled around, and gave a kick that would have broken
+some of his bones, if he had not jumped out of the way just
+in time to escape her heels.</p>
+
+<p>As it was, he was very much frightened, and looked very
+mean; for he knew that a kick was just what he deserved
+for his vulgarity and insolence.</p>
+
+<p>Daisy had never been known to kick at anybody before,
+and she never kicked anybody afterwards.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+A.<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_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE FAMOUS MOZART BAND.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> famous Mozart Band, as everybody ought to know,
+was formed in our village. It has serenaded almost every
+family on the street; and there is no end to the money (in
+the form of beans and smooth stones) that has been poured
+into the hat carried round by Miss Amy, the youngest
+member.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus039.png" width="500" height="335" alt="Mozart Band" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The band is composed of five members, whose names are
+Charles, Edwin, Susan, Bella, and Amy. Charles was the
+founder of the band. While on a visit to his uncle in the
+city, he had seen a strolling band of men in the street, who
+played finely on trumpets and flutes. He resolved to form
+a band at home, and to call it the Mozart Band.</p>
+
+<p>But why call it the Mozart? Well, Mozart was a wonderful
+musical genius, who could compose music when he
+was five years old, and who astonished all Germany by his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+skill and aptness as a performer. So Charles decided on
+calling his band the Mozart Band.</p>
+
+<p>At great expense I have obtained a drawing of the members
+of the Mozart Band. Charles (first drum) is the leader;
+Edwin (second drum) is next in rank; Amy (trumpet) is
+the next, for she owns the trumpet, and so comes before the
+other two ladies, who are merely vocal performers, by which
+I mean singers.</p>
+
+<p>Now, if you want to hear the famous Mozart Band, you
+must come to our village. Performances take place every
+Wednesday and Saturday afternoon, and sometimes oftener.
+If you come, you must bring some money to put into Amy's
+hat; for the band cannot afford to play for nothing. They
+are getting to be so famous that I should not wonder if they
+were to have an invitation soon to come on to New York
+or Boston, and give a concert in one of the large halls.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Aunt Cecilia.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT FISHING.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">When</span> I was seven years old, my father took me down to
+the river to fish. I had a nice new line, and a little hook
+that I bought of a peddler the week before. My father cut
+me a pole from the woods near by; and I caught a grasshopper
+for bait.</p>
+
+<p>I tried to put the grasshopper on the hook, but I pricked
+my finger: so my father put it on for me. Then I threw
+in my line, and kept moving it up and down.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon I thought I felt a bite, and called out to my
+father, "O father, I've got a fish!" I pulled it up, and
+what do you think I had caught? You could not guess in
+a week. It was my sister's old rag baby.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Frank Lynn.</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_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus041.png" width="400" height="495" alt="Shy Little Pansy" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>SHY LITTLE PANSY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"<span class="smcap">Why</span> so shy, my Pansy,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tell me why so shy?</span><br />
+Mother's arms are round thee;<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">This is grandma by.</span><br />
+She can tell you stories<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of the time, my dear,</span><br />
+When she was a little girl<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Just like Pansy here.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Once there was a dolly,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And its name was Bess;</span><br />
+Grandma then, like Pansy,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Was&mdash;how old? Now guess!</span><br />
+Just the age of Pansy!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Well, one night, you see"&mdash;</span><br />
+"Grandma," said the little girl,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Take me on your knee."</span><br />
+<br />
+Pansy's shyness melted;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Grandma won the day:</span><br />
+Now hugged tight in grandma's arms<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little Pansy lay;</span><br />
+And she heard a story<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of a doll so fine,</span><br />
+Left out on the cold, cold ground,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where no sun could shine.</span><br />
+<br />
+And the snow fell slowly,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Softly fell, like down,</span><br />
+Till a heap of drifted flakes<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Covered dolly's gown.</span><br />
+Yes, it hid and covered<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All the bright blue dress,</span><br />
+Then her hair and rosy cheeks&mdash;<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Poor forsaken Bess!</span><br />
+<br />
+Dolly's little mother<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hunted for her child;</span><br />
+But no trace of her was seen<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till the air grew mild.</span><br />
+When the snow was melted,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There was dolly found,</span><br />
+With her silken dress all soiled<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On the muddy ground.</span><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>
+<h2>NEW METHOD OF CATCHING MICE.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Perhaps</span> some of your youthful readers will be glad to
+know how I catch mice. If you think so, you are at liberty
+to publish the following; for I do not intend to apply for a
+patent.</p>
+
+<p>One evening last week we made some molasses candy;
+and, as too much of it, eaten before going to bed, is not good
+for the teeth, I spread some on a baking-tin, and set it away
+to cool for the next day.</p>
+
+<p>It was not cooked enough to harden thoroughly; and a
+little mouse had the curiosity to taste it; but, the moment
+his feet touched it, they stuck fast, and he could not get
+away.</p>
+
+<p>His cries for help brought two other mice to his assistance;
+but they shared the same fate, the molasses candy
+holding all three prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>When I found them the next morning, all three were
+stuck fast. This shows what a useful thing molasses candy
+is to have in a house, and is a warning to all mice not to
+meddle with it.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Arthur F. Corbin.</span><br />
+</div>
+<p><span class="smcap">Gouverneur, N.Y.</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_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>A SONG FOR BABY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Nuts</span> for all the baby-birds<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the merry budding spring;</span><br />
+Roses, where the dusty bees<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">May sip and cling.</span><br />
+<br />
+Shade for all the pretty lambs<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That in the summer stray;</span><br />
+Hedges, where the crickets chirp<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their time away.</span><br />
+<br />
+Holes, where nimble squirrels hide<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When autumn hours are chill;</span><br />
+Heaping barns, where horse and cow<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have shelter still.</span><br />
+<br />
+Homes for rabbit, mouse, and mole,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When winter strews the ground;</span><br />
+But mother's arms for baby dear<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The whole year round!</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">George Cooper.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus044.png" width="500" height="203" alt="Decoration" title="" />
+</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus045.png" width="500" height="373" alt="Jamie Canfield&#39;s Sand-heap" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>JAMIE CANFIELD'S SAND-HEAP.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jamie Canfield</span> is a three-year-old boy who lives in
+Lawrence, Kansas, the prettiest town in the State. He and
+Freddy Bassett, a four-year-old neighbor, love to play in
+the dirt; and their mammas allow them to do it, because it
+is so healthy.</p>
+
+<p>It certainly has proved to be so in Jamie's case; for he
+was quite pale and delicate in the spring, and now he is
+brown and rugged, and ready to eat all the food he can get.
+But dear me! he used to get so dirty!</p>
+
+<p>What was the use of washing him, and putting on clean
+dresses and aprons, when he was constantly throwing aside
+his other playthings, and making mud pies, or carting earth
+in his little red wagon?</p>
+
+<p>His papa laughed and said, "Oh, never mind! Dirt is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
+good for him." But mamma thought it was not very good
+for his clothes; and, besides, she wanted him to be clean
+enough to kiss without being washed every time he came
+into the house.</p>
+
+<p>So she said one day to his papa, "James, I think it
+would be a good idea to get a load of sand for Jamie to play
+in. It will at least be cleaner than that dust-heap."</p>
+
+<p>That very day up came a load of yellow, shining sand.
+It was heaped into a shady corner by mamma's bedroom-door,
+and Jamie and Freddy dived into it at once.</p>
+
+<p>They made pies; they dug holes, and filled them with
+water for wells; they made mountains with caves in their
+sides, and every thing else they could think of. When
+dinner-time came, Jamie had to be coaxed away from his
+sand-heap; and mamma said she believed he would sleep
+in it, if he were allowed to.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner, as soon as he waked from his nap, he went
+straight to his sand again. Freddy was there before him;
+and soon Minnie Rich, a little girl eleven years old, came
+out, and played with them.</p>
+
+<p>She knew how to work sand better than any of them.
+First she wet it. Then she made a house with holes in the
+sides for doors and windows, and a chip for a chimney.
+Then she made a smooth lawn in front of the house, and
+some hills and valleys in the rear, fenced in a yard, and set
+out some flowers.</p>
+
+<p>The boys were delighted; and mamma went to the door
+more than once to look at the plantation, as Jamie called
+it, before it was finished. It was really quite a pretty
+thing, and Jamie declared his intention of keeping it just as
+it was. But the hot sun dried the sand, so that the house
+crumbled away; and the two boys were soon digging and
+shovelling in their own way as before.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Jamie's Mamma.</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_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 258px;">
+<img src="images/illus047.png" width="258" height="350" alt="Spider" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>DICK'S DREAM.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Yes</span>, step right down upon me, and kill me, if you
+like," said Mrs. Tarantula to Dick, as they met at the schoolhouse
+door. "This is a hard world, Dick Adams, and I am
+about tired of living in it.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know what a fine home I once had! It was
+in that clay mound; and, when I had dug me a hole fully a
+foot deep and an inch across, my jaws and my eight legs
+were quite tired out. I left some small stones on the side
+for stairs: I lined the hole with brown silk next to the dirt,
+and with white satin inside, both of which I spun and wove
+on the spot.</p>
+
+<p>"My nice round lid fitted so snug and even, that I thought
+no one but myself ever could find my house. But, last
+week, your brother Will's sharp eyes spied the round ring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+that marks my nest; and he went and tore the lid from its
+hinges, and left my hundred and ten children without a roof
+to cover their heads. <i>How I would like to bite that boy!</i></p>
+
+<p>"I found the lid, and tried to fasten it down again; but
+a heavy shower came up, and I could not fix it in the rain.
+Then my husband came over from his house. You know
+our husbands never live with the rest of the family. They
+are too cross and get too hungry at times.</p>
+
+<p>"We were not on very good terms; for, some time before,
+when he thought I was away from home, he tried to get
+into my house. I heard him, and, running up stairs, I put
+my claws in the two little holes in the lining of the lid, and
+braced myself so that he could not pry open the lid. He
+said he only wanted to pay me a visit; but I knew he was
+hungry, and wanted to eat up our children.</p>
+
+<p>"But now he spoke very kindly to me, and told me that
+my lid could not be fixed on; but, as my children were now
+old enough to care for themselves, I had better go home
+with him. I went to his house to talk it over and forgot to
+give the children their supper, and tell them to work for
+themselves after this.</p>
+
+<p>"My husband told me a few days after that my boys and
+girls got into a fight, and, before they quit, ate each other
+up; but he was away from home for two days, and looked
+very full when he came back.</p>
+
+<p>"He may have told the truth; but I can't see how one of
+my little ones could eat the other one hundred and nine,
+and then swallow himself too."</p>
+
+<p>This is what Dick Adams dreamed that a tarantula said to
+him. He had seen one on his way to school, and what the
+teacher told him about the insect had interested him so
+much that he found himself dreaming about it all night.</p>
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">C. M. Drake.</span><br />
+</div>
+<p><span class="smcap">San Diego, Cal.</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_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 373px;">
+<img src="images/illus049.png" width="373" height="500" alt="DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR." title="" />
+<span class="caption">DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THREE LITTLE CHICKS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Three</span> little chicks, so downy and neat,<br />
+Went out in search of something to eat:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ter-wit, ter-weet!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Something to eat!</span><br />
+And soon they picked up a straw of wheat.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;">
+<img src="images/illus050.png" width="425" height="390" alt="Three little chicks" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+Said one little chick, "That belongs to me!"<br />
+Said the other little chick, "We'll see, we'll see!"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">"Ter-wit, ter-weet!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">It is nice and sweet,"</span><br />
+Said number three: "let us share the treat!"<br />
+<br />
+One little chick seized the straw in his bill,<br />
+And was just preparing to eat his fill,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">When the other chick</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Stepped up so quick,</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>He hadn't a chance for a picnic pick.<br />
+<br />
+They pulled, and they tugged, the downy things;<br />
+And, oh, how they flapped their baby wings!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">"Ter-wit, ter-weet!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Something to eat!</span><br />
+Just please let go of this bit of wheat!"<br />
+<br />
+Fiercer and fiercer the battle grew,<br />
+Until the straw broke right in two,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">And the little chicks</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Were in a fix,</span><br />
+And sorry enough for their naughty tricks.<br />
+<br />
+For a saucy crow has watched the fight,<br />
+And laughs, "Haw, haw! It serves you right!"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">So he snatches the prize</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">From before their eyes,</span><br />
+And over the hills, and away, he flies!<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Josephine Pollard.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>ROMEO THE SHIRK.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Sixty</span> years ago, when grandpa was a boy, he had a dog
+called Romeo, who was made to do the work of churning
+butter. I never saw a churn that went by dog-power; but
+it must have been a clumsy affair.</p>
+
+<p>The task could not have been an agreeable one, and I do
+not wonder that Romeo did not like it. One morning, when
+the churn was taken out, and the cream was all ready to be
+made into butter, there was no Romeo to be found. Long
+and loud were the calls made for him; but he did not
+answer to his name.</p>
+
+<p>The churning was done that day without his help. Nothing
+was seen of him until just before dark, when he came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+into the house with the air of a prodigal son. He did not
+walk up like an honest dog to get his supper, but slunk
+under a table.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus052.png" width="500" height="369" alt="Romeo" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The family had agreed to neither chide him nor caress
+him; but grandfather, who was then a little boy, slyly
+carried him some supper. Romeo ate it greedily, but
+looked unhappy all the time as though he knew he had done
+wrong. It was plain that his conscience was smiting him.</p>
+
+<p>The next week, when churning-time came, Romeo did not
+try to get away. He stood by watching while the cream
+was made ready; and, when his master whistled for him to
+take his place at the churn, he came forward, wagging his
+tail, as much as to say, "I am not going to be a shirk. I
+was not half so happy the day I ran away as I should have
+been if I had done my work cheerfully. I will never be
+caught shirking again." And he never was.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Daisy's Mamma.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 390px;">
+<img src="images/illus053.png" width="390" height="400" alt="Mother&#39;s Last Look" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>MOTHER'S LAST LOOK.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">They're</span> asleep,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So I'll keep</span><br />
+Very still, and peep:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Not too bright,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Candle-light</span><br />
+Is for them to night.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Saturday</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Makes them gay,</span><br />
+And they've had their play:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sled and shout</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have, no doubt,</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>Tired them fairly out.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Once in bed,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Prayers were said</span><br />
+By each curly-head:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But, before</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Half was o'er,</span><br />
+They saw slumber-shore.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Darlings! may</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Angels stay,</span><br />
+Bless and for you pray!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">May their love,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like a dove,</span><br />
+Watch you from above!<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>
+<h2>TIED, NOT MATED.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">One</span> fine summer day, Master Fritz took his mother's
+greyhound, Leda, and his father's spaniel, Neptune, out for
+a run. They were quite ready for a frolic, for they had
+been tied up in the barn all the forenoon, and had been
+longing for Fritz to come.</p>
+
+<p>So off they went; and, after they had gone some distance,
+Fritz thought it would be fine fun, as he had in his pocket a
+piece of string, to tie the two dogs together, and play they
+were a span of horses.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had he got them well tied than some one called
+him, and off he ran, leaving the two dogs tied, but not
+mated. They roamed about a while over the fields and
+meadows, till they came to the pond.</p>
+
+<p>Now, the dogs could not talk in our language; but they
+made certain noises, which meant, I think, just this: "Here's
+a chance for a fine swim!" cried Neptune. "Come, Leda,
+the water is nice and cool."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd rather not go in," said Leda. "I'm not a very
+good swimmer, and I easily take cold. Pray don't drag
+me in. Come back and have a race in the meadow."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus055.png" width="500" height="361" alt="Tied" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's too fine, too fine!" barked Neptune; and he
+began to lap up water with his tongue.</p>
+
+<p>Leda pulled back, and cried, "Oh, don't!"</p>
+
+<p>But the temptation was too great for Neptune. In he
+pulled poor Leda, and swam about with her till she was
+chilled through.</p>
+
+<p>Fritz's father, Mr. Pitman, passing that way, saw the dogs,
+and called them out. Glad enough was Leda to get on dry
+land. She shivered; but Neptune shook himself till he
+drenched her all over.</p>
+
+<p>Then Mr. Pitman untied the dogs, and, taking some dry
+grass, gave Leda a good rubbing till she felt warm and
+brisk.</p>
+
+<p>Then she began to bark at Neptune, and to caper round
+him, as much as to say, "Did you not serve me a pretty
+trick, sir? But I shall not let Master Fritz tie me to you
+again. Never, never!"</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Alfred Selwyn.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>MY KITTEN.</h2>
+
+<div class='story'>
+<p><span class="smcap">I want</span> to tell you about my
+kitten, and some of her funny
+ways. She is black and white,
+and her name is Beauty.</p>
+
+<p>I have great sport making
+her run up and down the room
+after my ball. But a little piece
+of string is the best plaything
+for her. She will jump right up
+on my shoulder to catch it.</p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 356px;">
+<img src="images/illus057.png" width="356" height="475" alt="My Kitten" title="" />
+</div>
+<p>If I throw a newspaper on
+the floor, she will jump upon it,
+and tear holes in it, making
+believe that she hears a mouse
+under it. This she seems to do
+to amuse me; for, as soon as I
+stop looking at her, she will go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"><small>[57]</small></a></span>
+away and lie down. But she is
+growing fast, and soon will be
+a grave old cat.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Viola Day.</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_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus058.png" width="500" height="283" alt="A Lesson in Flying" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Birds</span> have their trials as well as little boys and girls.
+To be sure they don't have to stand in a line, and shout
+"Twice one are two" at the top of their voices; but they
+have to learn to fly, and I think it very likely that they
+take singing-lessons, although I am not sure as to that.</p>
+
+<p>One day last summer I was picking flowers in the woods,
+when, happening to look up, what should I see perched on
+a twig just in front of me but a cunning little bird!</p>
+
+<p>At first I kept very quiet, lest I should frighten him away;
+but, as he showed no sign of moving, I ventured nearer and
+nearer, until I even covered him with my hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, dear me! he's nothing but a baby-bird, and can't
+fly," I said to myself; and then I sat down on a mossy
+mound near by, and waited; for I knew the mother-bird was
+not far off, and I wanted to see what was going on.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long before I heard a gentle whirr in the leaves
+overhead, and, looking up, saw two birds circling around the
+twig, but at some distance above it. Then one of them,
+the mother, of course, drew nearer and nearer in smaller
+and smaller circles, at the same time calling to her baby in
+encouraging little chirps.</p>
+
+<p>Birdie on his perch seemed very much excited, turning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+his head from one side to the other in the cunningest way.
+But when his mother came close to him, only to dart off and
+call on him to follow, he looked so disappointed that I really
+felt as if I must comfort him.</p>
+
+<p>The mother came back very soon and resumed her lesson
+in flying, and very hard work she found it too, for the little
+fellow was timid and refused to follow her, in spite of all
+her coaxing and scolding. After working a long while, she
+flew off, leaving her baby trembling on his perch. I pitied
+the poor little fellow, he seemed so forlorn and helpless.</p>
+
+<p>The little bird, left to himself, got tired at last of staying
+where he was, and made one or two efforts to fly. He
+flapped his wings, rounded up his back until he looked like
+a ball of down, and leaned forward, as much as to say,
+"I'll do it now." But when he saw the awful distance
+between himself and the ground, his courage failed him, and
+he clung to his perch more tightly than ever.</p>
+
+<p>After a while the mother-bird came back, bringing a large
+bug which she used as a bribe for her timid birdling, holding
+it under his very bill, and then darting off in the hope that
+he would follow. The youngster chirped for the bug, but
+he would not fly for it; and, after many efforts, the old
+bird, unable to resist his pleading, perched on a twig just
+beneath him, and held up the bug, which you may be sure
+he was not slow to seize and eat.</p>
+
+<p>The little fellow now seemed to make up his mind to fly,
+even if he died in the attempt. He flapped his wings,
+rounded his back, and leaned forward as before, while the
+mother-bird flew about, fluttering and chirping to such an
+extent that the father came down from the top of a high
+tree to see how they were getting along.</p>
+
+<p>The little bird was just about to fly, and I was just ready
+to clap my hands in applause, when, lo! there he was clinging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+to his perch again, trembling with fear, and chirping,
+"I can't do it. I dare not. Oh, dear!"</p>
+
+<p>The two old birds flew away much disappointed; but the
+mother soon returned with another bug, and the lesson was
+repeated. Indeed it was repeated so many times, that I
+began to lose patience with the little coward, and to be full
+of pity for the poor tired mother.</p>
+
+<p>His birdship had just eaten a bug, and the parent-birds
+were chirping and flying around, when, with the hope of
+helping them in their labors, I stepped forward, and tapped
+him on the bill with a flower-stem. The blow was so sudden
+and unexpected, that, before he had time to think, he
+lifted his wings and flew to a neighboring twig, where he
+clung, frightened and delighted at what he had done.</p>
+
+<p>I left him then, with his father and mother making just
+such a time over him as your fathers and mothers made
+over you when you took your first steps.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Mabel Elwell.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>"LULLABY!"</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+<span class="smcap">Now</span> the shadows gather fast, "by-low" time has come at last;<br />
+Little birds have gone to rest, safe within their downy nest;<br />
+Little lambkins seek the fold, warmly housed from wind and cold:<br />
+Baby darling, you and I now must sing our lullaby!<br />
+<br />
+I will sing a sweet good-night to my baby's blue eyes bright,<br />
+To the little cheeks so fair, to the sunny, golden hair,<br />
+To the rosy lips so sweet, to the dimpled hands and feet;<br />
+Gently rocking to and fro, singing softly, singing low.<br />
+<br />
+Into "Dreamland," baby wee, you will slip away from me;<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>Out from shadow into light, to the world of visions bright;<br />
+While the mother-love so true, keeping tender watch o'er you,<br />
+With the lullaby shall seem still to soothe and bless your dream.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus061.png" width="400" height="402" alt="Rocking baby" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+Lullaby, oh, lullaby! stars are lighting in the sky;<br />
+All the sunshine of the day like yourself is tired of play:<br />
+Tell me, are the sunbeams <i>there</i> in that dreamland bright and fair?<br />
+Bring them back, my baby, then, when you wake to earth again.<br />
+<br />
+Sweetly on her mother's breast sinks the little one to rest.<br />
+By-low time is sweeter far than all the hours of play-time are:<br />
+So thinks baby, so think I, as we sing our lullaby,<br />
+Rocking gently to and fro, chanting softly, chanting low.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Mary D. Brine.</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_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>HOW LITTLE EDITH WENT TO SLEEP.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">I'm</span> sleepy; and I want my mamma to rock me to sleep;
+and I don't want grandma, or auntie, or papa, or any one
+else, to rock me, but just my own mamma." And the little
+queen planted her feet firmly, and looked at us with so much
+defiance, that we felt it was of no use for us to coax, rock,
+or sing.</p>
+
+<p>Little Edith was tired, and sadly in need of her nap; but
+her mamma was sick in bed, and could not be disturbed.
+What was to be done?</p>
+
+<p>Papa held up a bright silver-piece as a reward of merit to
+the little girl, if she would be good, and go to sleep. Grandma
+ventured a little coaxing. But it was all of no avail: the
+sleepy eyes opened wide, as if they meant to keep open in
+spite of us all.</p>
+
+<p>But when auntie remarked that she was going to her
+room to sharpen her pencil, and draw some pictures of a
+cat, or a dog, or a rabbit, Edith's eyes brightened; and she
+said, "Let me go too?"</p>
+
+<p>So Edith sat on her auntie's lap, and asked her to draw a
+rabbit,&mdash;a "yabbit," Edith called it,&mdash;and to begin at his
+ears.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, little pet. Here are his ears, and here is his body,
+and here is his tail, and here are his feet, and here are some
+spectacles for him to see through," said auntie, drawing
+each article as she named it. "And here are some pretty
+red beads around his neck, and some rings in his ears; and
+now we will tie a nice blue ribbon on his tail." Here Edith
+suggested shoes for his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said auntie. "And now he wants an apple to
+eat: so here is an <i>apple</i> for him (1). Now he wants some
+<i>grass</i> (2); now some <i>nuts</i> (3). Now he is crying for a piece<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
+of <i>pie</i> (4); no, he doesn't want that kind, he wants <i>gooseberry-pie</i>:
+well, rabbit, here it is (5). Here is some <i>bread</i>
+for him (6), and we will spread it with nice butter; and he
+wants a <i>potato</i> too (7), and a nice sweet <i>orange</i> (8), and
+a <i>brush</i> to smooth his fur (9)."</p>
+
+<p>Little Edith's eyes were gradually closing; but, becoming
+aware of the fact, she started up as if she thought of going
+away.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus063.png" width="500" height="273" alt="numbered pictures" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Stop, darling," said auntie. "We must give the rabbit
+a <i>wash-bowl</i> to wash in (10), and some nice cool water in
+it; and now he must have a <i>comb</i> (11), and a <i>cup and
+saucer</i> to drink his tea from (12), and a <i>doll</i> to play with
+(13). Now he says he wants a <i>house</i> to live in (14), with a
+tree growing by it, and a nice walk to the front-door, and
+a fence all around it; and there he is crying for a bed to
+sleep on. Oh, what a rabbit you are! you want so many
+things! Well, here is a nice <i>bed</i> for you (15). Now I hope
+you will go to sleep, and not ask for another thing; for
+little Edith's eyes are shut."</p>
+
+<p>And, sure enough, Edith was fast asleep.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+C. L. K.<br />
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>BLOW, BLOW, EAST WIND!</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class='sig'>Music by <span class='smcap'>T. Crampton</span>.</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus064-music.png" width="500" height="731" 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/feb78.mid">here</a>.]</small><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+1. Blow, blow, east wind!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What does the east wind do?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shine, shine, sunlight!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And what does the sunshine do?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The sunshine clear</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Goes here and there,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And searches ev'ry nook;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And while it is going,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The wind it is blowing</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Much farther than you can look.</span><br />
+<br />
+2. Blow, blow, east wind!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Woodlands and valleys through!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shine, shine, sunlight!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With beams of a golden hue</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The fields grow green</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By winds swept clean,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But end your blowing, do!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And south breezes dear</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Very soon will be here</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With the skies of a deep warm blue.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class='tnote'>
+<h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3>
+
+<p>The title page and table of contents were created for this issue following
+the pattern from the 1877 issues.</p>
+
+<p>Page 48, comma removed from text. The original read (said, he only)</p>
+
+<p>Page 63, end quotation mark added (his fur (9).")</p>
+<p>On the midi, last bar, bass staff, first chord changed from E-G to G-B.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nursery, February 1878, Vol. XXIII,
+No. 2, by Various
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