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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nursery, March 1878, Vol. XXIII., by Various.
+    </title>
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, March 1878, Vol. XXIII. 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, March 1878, Vol. XXIII. No. 3
+       A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 20, 2009 [EBook #28142]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, MARCH 1878 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. Music
+by Linda Cantoni.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p>
+<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. 3.<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'>In the Swing</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>How My Boys Helped Their Mother</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"Stop That Quarrelling."</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Letter from Calcutta</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Prairie Dogs</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Catbird</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>How to Draw a Cat</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Playing Cook</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>How a Boy Caught a Fish with His Nose&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>An Old Fable</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Our Fly</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Grandpa's Watch</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Helen's Bird</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Geese and the Hawk</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Mabel's Secrets</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Snow Country</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_94">94</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'>Nobody's Dog</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The New Moon</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Girl Who is Always Good</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Street-Player</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Three Little Chicks Born in a Shoe</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Little Student</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Froggie's Party (<i>with music</i>)&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 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>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 351px;">
+<img src="images/illus065.png" width="351" height="500" alt="NOBODY&#39;S DOG." title="" />
+<span class="caption">NOBODY&#39;S DOG.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>NOBODY'S DOG.</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/illus066.png" width="112" height="125" alt="O" title="" />
+</div><div class='poem2'><br /><br />NLY a dirty black-and-white dog!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You can see him any day,</span><br />
+Trotting meekly from street to street:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He almost seems to say,</span><br />
+As he looks in your face with wistful eyes,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"I don't mean to be in your way."</span><br />
+<br />
+His tail hangs drooping between his legs;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His body is thin and spare:</span><br />
+How he envies the sleek and well-fed dogs,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That thrive on their masters' care!</span><br />
+And he wonders what they must think of him,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And grieves at his own hard fare.</span><br />
+<br />
+Sometimes he sees a friendly face,&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A face that he seems to know;</span><br />
+And thinks it may be the master<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That he lost so long ago;</span><br />
+And even dares to follow him home,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For he loved his master so!</span><br />
+<br />
+Poor Jack! He's only mistaken again,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And stoned and driven back;</span><br />
+But he's used to disappointments now,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And takes up his beaten track;</span><br />
+Nobody's dog, for whom nobody cares,&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Poor unfortunate Jack!</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Fred B. King.</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_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 269px;">
+<img src="images/illus067.png" width="269" height="350" alt="In the Swing" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>IN THE SWING.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> swing was hung from an old oak-tree in grandmother's
+grove. There Mabel and I used to go every
+fine summer morning before breakfast, and swing for five
+minutes. We did not swing longer than that because too
+much of this kind of exercise is not healthy.</p>
+
+<p>Once, when I had swung her very high, Mabel had a
+fall, but it did not hurt her, for she fell among some tufts
+of soft grass; but, if her head had struck a stone, it might
+have done her great harm. After that we were both more
+careful.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Five years have gone by since those days. We both go
+to school, and I do not think you would know us, from the
+likenesses in the picture. But next summer we hope to
+visit grandmother once more, and we shall revive old times
+in the swing under the old oak-tree.</p>
+
+<p>The sly squirrels will come out and look at us; the birds
+will twitter, and try to make us think that they have no
+nests in the trees and bushes thereabouts: but we shall
+say, "We shall do you no harm, birds, squirrels, beetles&mdash;no
+harm&mdash;for we love you all! So play on, and please let
+us play too."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Edith.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>THE NEW MOON.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Pretty</span> new moon, white new moon,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What do you bring in your horn?</span><br />
+Silver light to paint black night<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As fair as the early dawn?</span><br />
+<br />
+Sweet new moon, pretty new moon,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where did you harvest your rays?</span><br />
+In the deeps of dark were you but a spark<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till the sun shone along your ways?</span><br />
+<br />
+Fair new moon, kind new moon,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Will my wish come true some day,</span><br />
+When you're but a ghost of yourself, at the most,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And your glory passes away?</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Mary N. Prescott.</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_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<h2>HOW MY BOYS HELPED THEIR MOTHER.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">When</span> we first came here to live, the lot next to ours
+was vacant; but afterwards a house was built on it, and
+the boys were very much interested in the progress of the
+building. Often, when obliged to stay in doors, they would
+sit by the window, watching the work on the "new house,"
+as they called it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus069.png" width="500" height="375" alt="How my boys helped" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Little, the owner of the house, was an old acquaintance
+of ours, and very fond of children. So occasionally,
+when he came to oversee the work, I would allow the
+boys to go up and see him; and he would give them a few
+nails, or some blocks to play with.</p>
+
+<p>One day, Mr. Little called their attention to the wood
+which the carpenters had thrown aside as rubbish, and told
+them he was going to pick up some of it, and send it home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+to burn; "and now, boys," said Mr. Little, "if you would
+like to help your mother, here is a chance to get her some
+kindling-wood. You may come every day, and get all you
+can carry home."</p>
+
+<p>They came home delighted with the plan; and the next
+morning, as soon as breakfast was done, they were ready to
+begin their work. The two oldest boys took their wheelbarrows,
+and the youngest one his cart, and off they started.
+I could see them from my window, working very diligently,
+and they soon came back, each with a good-sized load.</p>
+
+<p>They knocked at the back-door, and asked me where I
+would have my wood put. I told them they could put it
+in the cellar, and opened the outside cellar-door for them.
+Each one threw out his load, and started for another; and
+so they kept at work nearly the whole forenoon.</p>
+
+<p>They continued to work in this way for a week, sometimes
+getting one load a day, and sometimes four or five; and
+every night, when their papa came home, they invited him
+down cellar to see how much wood they had.</p>
+
+<p>In a little room back of the parlor, there was an old-fashioned
+fireplace, in which, when the evenings began to
+grow cool, papa would build up a nice fire, just after supper.
+Then he would sit down in the firelight with the boys, and
+tell them stories till their bed-time, greatly to their delight.</p>
+
+<p>So you see they had a reward for their labor, besides
+having the satisfaction of knowing that they helped their
+mother.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+H. L.<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: 250px;">
+<img src="images/illus070.png" width="250" height="118" 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_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 343px;">
+<img src="images/illus071.png" width="343" height="425" alt="Stop that quarrelling" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>"STOP THAT QUARRELLING."</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">In</span> England recently, a curious incident of geese-life was
+witnessed. A number of very fine geese, belonging to a
+Mr. Woodford were having their morning ramble, when
+suddenly a strange noise was heard.</p>
+
+<p>Two of the geese had begun quarrelling, probably over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
+some choice morsel of food. They fought each other
+furiously, when they were suddenly stopped in a way that
+caused no little surprise to the beholders.</p>
+
+<p>An old goose came flying across the road, and cackling in
+tones that must have meant, "Stop that quarrelling!" for
+they seemed to be well understood by the combatants.
+Having chided them well, the old goose proceeded to
+punish them.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly the quarrelsome geese obeyed the command of
+the old goose; and the whole flock, that had been witnesses
+of the fight, began to gobble their approval of the peace
+that had been brought about. How much wiser they were
+than some bad boys, who like to see a fight, and do not try
+to stop it!</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Uncle Charles.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>THE GIRL WHO IS ALWAYS GOOD.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">She</span> never sighs;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She never grumbles;</span><br />
+She never cries<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When down she tumbles.</span><br />
+<br />
+She never soils<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her pretty dresses;</span><br />
+She never spoils<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her silken tresses.</span><br />
+<br />
+With cap on head,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And wee hands folded,</span><br />
+She's put to bed,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And never scolded.</span><br />
+<br />
+Oh, she's a pearl!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No mischief scheming;</span><br />
+There's such a girl,&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Don't think I'm dreaming.</span><br />
+<br />
+But not to tell<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Her name were folly:</span><br />
+You know her well,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For she's your Dolly!</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">George Cooper.</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_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 279px;">
+<img src="images/illus073.png" width="279" height="400" alt="Dog and birds" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>A LETTER FROM CALCUTTA.</h2>
+
+
+<p><i>Dear "Nursery,"</i>&mdash;Way out here, a long distance from
+my real home, which is not far from Boston, my grandmamma
+sends you; and I am so fond of hearing the stories
+read, that I think some of your children would like to read
+a story about this country.</p>
+
+<p>There are many things here which would be new and
+strange to most of them; but few things are more funny
+than the crows playing their pranks. The crows are very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+like those at home, except that these little fellows have
+slate-colored necks, and are much more bold.</p>
+
+<p>If a window or door is left open, it will not be a minute
+before one or more crows will arrive and look about in
+search of food. If you chance to leave any thing about that
+is eatable, it is seized and carried off in an instant.</p>
+
+<p>There is a great park here, known as the Maidan, where
+dogs run with bones to pick; and this habit of the dogs
+suits the crows perfectly, for they always try to get away
+the bones, and often succeed too. This is the way they
+usually go to work. The first crow that sees a dog with a
+bone calls all his friends, and off they fly to where the dog
+is. There they alight, and stand around him.</p>
+
+<p>Then they talk to one another. Perhaps one says, in
+crow language, "This is an ugly cur;" another says, "He
+has crooked legs;" another, "His tail is cut off;" and so
+they keep talking until the dog gets angry, and with a
+snap and a bark, tries to drive them away. This only
+makes them laugh; and they begin again to torment the
+dog by talking, and even by jumping upon his back, and
+pulling his tail.</p>
+
+<p>Now, no dog of any spirit will stand this insult. So he
+springs up in a rage, to punish the saucy birds. That is
+precisely what the crows want; for, as soon as he turns his
+head around to bite one crow, another darts down, seizes
+the bone, and carries it away. Then how they do laugh
+at the poor dog! and isn't he angry!</p>
+
+<p>We have also a bird commonly called a "kite," but often
+called the "Indian swallow," as it sails about in the air just
+as our home swallows do. It does not seize its food with its
+bill, as the crow does, but with its claws or talons, and eats
+as it flies. Now, the crow can't help tormenting something;
+and the kite often gets his share of their attention.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I have seen crows sit on a fence on both sides of a kite,
+and provoke him by their talk, just as one boy often provokes
+another by saying saucy little things. At first the
+kite pretends not to care; but very soon his feathers ruffle,
+and he flies at a crow, as if to tear him in pieces. The
+crow is quick and darts away, but returns just as soon
+as the kite flies at another crow. And in this way the
+crows amuse themselves for a long time.</p>
+
+<p>It is believed here that crows hold meetings, and decide
+upon the punishment due to other crows that have been
+bad; for they have often been seen to gather in large
+numbers, and, after chattering like magpies for a time, take
+one of their number, and peck him severely, sometimes
+even killing him.</p>
+
+<p>Good-by, dear old "Nursery." Your little friend,</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Leon K. Davis.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>PRAIRIE DOGS.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">How</span> many of the bright-eyed boys and girls who read
+"The Nursery," or hear it read, month after month, ever
+saw a prairie-dog village? Ah! I see several little hands
+up. "The Nursery" has many readers in Western Kansas;
+and there is the very place where prairie-dog villages are
+found.</p>
+
+<p>I will tell you about my first visit to one of them. As
+we were riding over the beautiful green prairie, we came to
+a place dotted here and there with hillocks about a foot high,
+and on each sat a funny little yellow dog.</p>
+
+<p>These little hills, which have a hole in the top for a door,
+are the houses of the prairie-dogs. They would let us come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
+quite close to them, when, with a comical squeak, intended,
+I suppose, for a bark, down they would go, head first, into
+the holes, giving their tails a "good-by" shake.</p>
+
+<p>The noise they make sounds exactly like the noise made
+by toy-animals when you press them in your hands. Fifty
+prairie-dogs all barking together could not be heard very
+far.</p>
+
+<p>On a number of the hills sat solemn old owls, trying to
+look very wise. Most of these owls sat perfectly still as we
+drove by; but I saw two or three fly slowly away, as if half
+asleep. I wonder if these sober old birds teach the little
+prairie-dogs any of their wisdom.</p>
+
+<p>All the prairies in this part of Kansas are covered with a
+short, thick grass, called "buffalo-grass," and the dogs live
+on its roots. These roots are little bulbs, and make nice
+rich food for the funny little fellows.</p>
+
+<p>A gentleman who has lived here for many years tells me
+that all their houses are connected underground by halls or
+passages, so that they can travel a mile or so without
+coming to the top of the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Wherever you see a prairie-dog village, there you will
+find good water by digging a few feet. Sometimes boys
+capture these queer little dogs, and they become quite tame
+and make cunning pets.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Mary Maxwell Ryan.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/illus076.png" width="250" height="189" alt="Prairie Dogs" 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_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 294px;">
+<img src="images/illus077.png" width="294" height="400" alt="THE STREET-PLAYER" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>THE STREET-PLAYER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Under</span> my window I hear a sound,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The scrape of a fiddle, the clatter of feet;</span><br />
+And a curious crowd of boys and men<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has gathered there in the street.</span><br />
+<br />
+And in their midst is a little child,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With ragged shoes and a brimless hat,</span><br />
+Not bigger than Hop-O'-my-Thumb, at most,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And wan and thin at that.</span><br />
+<br />
+I see his fingers like little claws,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His berry-brown eyes, and wistful smile,</span><br />
+As he plies the bow of his fiddle fast,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And tries to sing meanwhile.</span><br />
+<br />
+And when his shrill brief song is done,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He plucks the hat from his curly head,</span><br />
+And begs a penny from every one,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though not a word is said.</span><br />
+<br />
+Just fit for a mother's arms to fold,<br />
+Yet here alone in the heat and dust,<br />
+Doing his poor, tired, baby best<br />
+To earn for himself a crust.<br />
+<br />
+He looks like Teddy, for all the world;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just such a tanned and rosy skin;</span><br />
+Only he lacks the apple cheeks,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The dimples, and double-chin.</span><br />
+<br />
+And I think if Teddy were motherless,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And had to wander from place to place,</span><br />
+How quickly the twinkle would leave his eye,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the dimples leave his face.</span><br />
+<br />
+So, Teddy, open the little bank,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And give him the pennies kept for toys,</span><br />
+And under my window let me see<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Two little nut-brown boys!</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.</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>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus079.png" width="500" height="371" alt="The Catbird" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE CATBIRD.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> catbird belongs to the family of thrushes, and is one
+of the most peculiar of our American birds. It is dark
+colored, with brown head and neck, and greenish-black tail.
+The bird is fond of society, and usually builds its nest near
+the dwellings of men, rather than in the quiet of the forest.</p>
+
+<p>Its voice, when angry or disturbed, is harsh and shrill, but
+at other times, soft and sweet. It has also a cry like the
+mewing of a cat, from which it derives its name. It is
+very courageous, and will defend its young until it falls
+exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>The catbird can be tamed, but is as mischievous as a
+young monkey,&mdash;meddlesome, full of curiosity, and so
+jealous, that it will drive any other pet bird out of the
+house. It dislikes to be caged, preferring the freedom of
+the room, so that it may look in the looking-glass, take pins
+off from the cushion, or perch on the plants in the window.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Aunt Alice.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>HOW TO DRAW A CAT</h2><div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus080.png" width="500" height="732" alt="HOW TO DRAW A CAT." 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="412" alt="Playing cook" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>PLAYING COOK.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jenny</span> was at her little table, making a pudding for her
+doll's dinner, when brother Albert came in with Snap the
+dog, and said, "Let me be the cook, sister: I know how to
+make a pudding. First I will break these three eggs into
+the dish."</p>
+
+<p>"But I can see no eggs," said Jenny.</p>
+
+<p>"Look sharp," said Albert, going through the motion of
+breaking an egg. "Good and fresh."</p>
+
+<p>"I see no eggs," said Jenny.</p>
+
+<p>"You must be losing your eyesight," said the cook, taking
+a spoon. "Now, then, I will stir up the eggs; and now I
+will put in a little flour; and now I will grate in some
+nutmeg."</p>
+
+<p>"I think you had better put in some milk," said Jenny.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Of course, I shall," replied the cook. "Where's the
+basin of milk?"</p>
+
+<p>"You will find it on the floor," said Jenny.</p>
+
+<p>Albert looked, and cried out, "Go away, Snap!&mdash;See,
+Jenny, that greedy dog has lapped up all the milk!"</p>
+
+<p>"No matter," said Jenny. "You can get some more
+where you got the eggs."</p>
+
+<p>So Albert seized the little pitcher, went through the
+motion of emptying it, stirred the pudding once more, and
+then placed it on the little doll-stove.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a fine cook you are!" said Jenny. "But,
+when I am very hungry, I think I shall not come to you for
+my dinner."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Ida Fay.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>HOW A BOY CAUGHT A FISH WITH HIS
+NOSE.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">A few</span> years ago, a little boy was out fishing with his
+mother, on Crooked Lake, in the western part of New York;
+or perhaps I should say, <i>she</i> was fishing, and he was looking
+over the side of the boat. He could see the fish darting
+about here and there, and liked to watch them, and he put
+his face as close down to the water as he could to see them
+more plainly.</p>
+
+<p>A big trout came along, and saw something smooth and
+round and white close to the top of the water. It was the
+boy's nose. The trout was hungry, and I suppose he
+thought it was a piece of meat, or something else good to
+eat: so he gave a spring out of the lake, and caught fast
+hold of it with his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>Very much startled, the boy jerked his head back suddenly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+and landed Mr. Trout in the boat. He was a fine
+large fellow, and weighed several pounds. I hope he did
+not bite off the end of the boy's nose. I wonder if the boy
+would like to try to catch another trout in the same way.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody thought this so funny, that the boy became,
+for a while, quite famous, and had his photograph taken,
+with the mark of the bite on his nose. This may seem a
+very tough story, but it is true. The thing took place only
+a few miles from where I live.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Elizabeth Sill.</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: 450px;">
+<img src="images/illus083.png" width="450" height="315" alt="An Old Fable" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>AN OLD FABLE.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">An</span> ass, having put on a lion's skin, roamed about in the
+forest, and amused himself by frightening all the animals
+he met with in his wanderings. At last he met a fox, and
+tried to frighten him also; but the fox no sooner heard the
+sound of his voice than he exclaimed, "I might have been
+afraid, if I had not heard you bray."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>This fable was written by &AElig;sop, a famous Grecian who
+lived nearly three thousand years ago.</p>
+
+<p>A fable is a fictitious story designed to enforce some
+useful lesson or moral. See if you can tell the moral of
+this one.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Uncle Charles.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>OUR FLY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 214px;">
+<img src="images/illus084.png" width="214" height="250" alt="Our Fly" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I want</span> to tell "The Nursery" readers
+about a fly who has lived in my mamma's
+room all winter. At night he hides away
+in some warm place; but, when the sun
+shines, he flies all about the room, and
+acts as if he were very happy.</p>
+
+<p>When my mamma was sick, he used to
+fly about her, and make a great buzzing; and, when the girl
+brought up her dinner, he would crawl about the tray as if
+he were hungry. Mamma would give him some sugar,
+which he liked very much.</p>
+
+<p>We missed him once for a whole week. We looked all
+over the room, but could not find him anywhere. At last,
+one day, we saw him on the window trying to fly, and what
+do you think? The poor fellow had lost one of his wings.
+Mamma said that he must have flown into the gas-light, and
+got burnt. She gave him some sugar, and he seemed to
+feel better for eating it.</p>
+
+<p>I watched him a long time, and when he had eaten
+enough he crawled on to my hand. I took him off, and put
+him on the window again; but he kept coming back to my
+hand, and I think, if he could have spoken, he would have
+said, "Thank you, little girl, for my nice dinner."</p>
+
+<p>I will tell you more about him some time.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Viola.</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: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus085.png" width="500" height="499" alt="Grandpa&#39;s Watch" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>GRANDPA'S WATCH.</h2>
+
+<div class='story'>
+<p><span class="smcap">George</span> is never so happy
+as when he is on grandpa's
+knee; and the first thing that
+grandpa has to do, when little
+George is seated there, is to
+pull out his watch.</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p>
+<div class='story'>
+<p>"Watch, watch!" cries little
+George; and grandpa takes it
+out, opens it, and lets him see
+all the queer little wheels and
+the bright works, that shine
+and glitter so, and keep up the
+quick movements, and make
+the watch say, "Tick, tick!"</p>
+
+<p>Grandpa and George are
+good friends, because grandpa
+tries to explain things to him.
+One day he brought home a
+watch and gave it to the little
+boy for his own, and showed
+him how to wind it up, and
+make it tick.</p>
+
+<p>George is very proud of it,
+and will soon learn to tell the
+time of day. He knows now
+how to count ten.</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: 307px;">
+<img src="images/illus087.png" width="307" height="450" alt="Helen&#39;s Bird" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>HELEN'S BIRD.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Helen was eight years old, a pretty little canary-bird
+was given to her as a birthday present. She named it
+"Chirp;" and she and Chirp soon got to be very fond of
+each other.</p>
+
+<p>Helen took the whole care of him; and he grew so tame<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+that he would perch on her hand, and take seeds from her
+finger, and even from her lips. He was a fine singer, and
+Helen liked to be waked in the morning by his music.</p>
+
+<p>His cage was placed on her table near her bed, and she
+always began the day by having a little talk with Chirp.
+There was not the least risk in opening the cage, and letting
+him out into the room; for he would fly to Helen as soon as
+she called him.</p>
+
+<p>So for years the little bird and the little girl lived happily
+together. One November day, when Helen was almost
+eleven years old, she had been out making a call, and, on
+her return, Chirp was missing. Helen saw that a window
+had been left open, and knew that he must have flown out.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear!" said she, in great distress, "my poor little
+Chirp is gone, and I shall never see him again."</p>
+
+<p>Her mother tried to comfort her by saying that he had
+not been gone long, and could not be far away. "But,"
+said Helen, "it is cold weather, and is snowing too, and he
+must be chilled to death."</p>
+
+<p>However, without wasting time in talk, she snatched up a
+handful of canary-seed, and ran out of doors at once in
+search of her little pet. She looked up into the vine that
+grew on the side of the house, and called, "Chirp, Chirp!"</p>
+
+<p>She could see nothing of him; but Chirp saw her, and in
+a moment came fluttering down among the snowflakes, and
+perched upon her hand. Oh, how delighted Helen was to
+see him! The first thing she did was to give him some
+seeds to eat; for she knew he must be half starved.</p>
+
+<p>"You dear little venturesome thing," she said. "You
+wanted to see the world, didn't you? But why couldn't
+you wait for warmer weather? You have given me a
+dreadful fright. Come into the house now and be contented,
+and next summer you shall go out with me."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Jane Oliver.</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_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus089.png" width="500" height="380" alt="Three Little Chicks in a Shoe" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>THREE LITTLE CHICKS BORN IN A SHOE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">Three</span> little chickens,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Born in a shoe,</span><br />
+When the freshet came,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Didn't know what to do:</span><br />
+One went on deck,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just to watch the weather,</span><br />
+While down below<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The others sat together.</span><br />
+<br />
+"Oh, what shall we do!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother is not here:</span><br />
+Captain there on deck!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, what cheer? what cheer?"</span><br />
+"Water everywhere,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Far as I can see!</span><br />
+But the wind is fair;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let us easy be."</span><br />
+<br />
+"Oh, we want our mother,"<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cried the other two:</span><br />
+"Stop that!" said the captain,&mdash;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Captain of the shoe:</span><br />
+"We are lucky chickens<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In our little boat;</span><br />
+Water-tight it is,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And it keeps afloat.</span><br />
+<br />
+"I hear mother calling<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From the barn-yard wall:</span><br />
+Courage, little sisters!<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Don't you hear her call?"</span><br />
+Yes, they heard it plainly;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, how glad they were!</span><br />
+"Now blow fair, thou gentle wind,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bear us all to her!"</span><br />
+<br />
+And the wind kept blowing,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Fair and fair it blew,</span><br />
+Bearing to the barn-yard wall<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All that little crew.</span><br />
+When their mother saw them,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She flew down apace;</span><br />
+On her back she bore them<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To a nice dry place.</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>THE GEESE AND THE HAWK.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">One</span> day in May as Charles walked through the fields, he
+saw a large hawk hovering in the air, and heard a noise as
+of geese cackling. Soon an old mother-goose with a troop
+of little ones came running towards him.</p>
+
+<p>She knew that Charles would protect her and her fledglings
+from the cruel hawk; and she was not mistaken. He
+took up a stick, and, looking up at the hawk, said, "Now
+come on if you dare, you old thief!"</p>
+
+
+<p>The hawk made a swoop down to the top of a tree near
+by, caught sight of the goslings, and would, no doubt,
+have liked to clutch one of them, and carry it off; but the
+robber-bird was not quite bold enough to do this while
+Charles stood by.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 259px;">
+<img src="images/illus091.png" width="259" height="400" alt="Watching the Hawk" title="" />
+</div>
+<p>At last the hawk flew off out of sight, and Charles called
+his good dog Fido, and pointed at the geese, and said,
+"Take care of them, sir." So Fido sat down near by, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
+watched the geese. I think if the hawk had come then,
+Fido would have been more than a match for him.</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_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>MABEL'S SECRETS.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">And</span> what were her secrets? She was one of the children
+allowed to make Christmas-gifts to their friends.</p>
+
+<p>But it was hard for Mabel to keep her secrets. When
+her papa came home at night, she always climbed upon his
+knee to tell him every thing that had happened in her little
+world during the day; and her papa always listened to her
+prattle with a great deal of interest.</p>
+
+<p>Now, that there was something she must not tell, Mabel
+could think of nothing else. She climbed upon his knee,
+and sat so silent, that her papa said, "Well, puss, have you
+nothing to tell papa to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I mustn't tell you my secrets, papa," said wise little
+Mabel: "I've lots of 'em, and one is for you; and, if I tell,
+you will know all about it."</p>
+
+<p>Now that the ice was broken, Mabel chatted on, innocently
+thinking that her secrets were safe in her wise little
+head. "Mamma knows," she continued; "but you mustn't
+know; and we are going to have a Christmas-tree to put
+'em on, and everybody will be so <i>sprised</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, when Christmas Eve came, every one was
+surprised, but, most of all, little Mabel; for a beautiful doll
+and many other pretty things hung upon the tree for her.
+"Why, mamma," she exclaimed, "somebody else must have
+had secrets too!"</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+M. B. L.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/illus092.png" width="250" height="215" alt="Mabel and her doll" 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_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 285px;">
+<img src="images/illus093.png" width="285" height="400" alt="The Little Student" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2>THE LITTLE STUDENT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span class="smcap">In</span> the sun by the wall, with Lion close by,<br />
+With her book in her hand, little Ruth you may spy:<br />
+She is getting her lesson as fast as she can,<br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>While the birds sing their song and the soft breezes fan.<br />
+<br />
+See, that is her slate lying there on the ground:<br />
+She can make a square figure, and then make a round;<br />
+She can add up a sum, if it's not very big;<br />
+But she cannot yet draw me a cat or a pig.<br />
+<br />
+But she tries to learn something, though little it be,<br />
+Each day of her life,&mdash;something useful, you see:<br />
+And in two or three years you will find she can spell,<br />
+Read, cipher, and write, and do it all well.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Ellen Simpson.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div>
+<h2>THE SNOW-COUNTRY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">What</span> a funny looking man!" cried Harry, running to
+me with his book open, to show me a picture. "Where
+does he live, aunty? and why does he wear such clothes?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is an Esquimau, and lives in the snow-country, and
+his clothes are made of fur."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about the snow-country, aunty."</p>
+
+<p>"Up in the far north, near the north pole, it is winter all
+the time. There the snow is always on the ground; and
+instead of having, as we do, many days and nights, they
+have only one day and one night in all the year.</p>
+
+<p>"You will wonder if the people sleep all through the
+long night, and if they do not get tired of the long day.
+No; for they go to bed and get up about as often as we do.</p>
+
+<p>"During the night they have the stars to light them,
+and bright flashing colors in the sky, such as we call the
+'Northern Lights.' When the sun comes back, he makes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
+them a long visit; but never gets so high in the sky as he
+does with us, and never makes the weather warm."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus095.png" width="500" height="393" alt="Snow Village" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"What are those things in the picture that look like bee-hives?"
+said Harry.</p>
+
+<p>"The picture shows you an Esquimaux village, and those
+are the houses. They are made of blocks of snow. Some
+of the houses have pieces of clear ice for windows. Others
+have no windows at all; only a small hole for a door, which
+is closed up with snow after the family have all gone in."</p>
+
+<p>"A snow-house with ice windows!" said Harry. "Why,
+how do they keep warm?"</p>
+
+<p>"They warm the houses with oil lamps, and get them
+very warm and very smoky too."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Harry, "the Esquimaux are a queer people.
+I should like to hear more about them."</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you more some other time."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+G. D. Y.<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>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE FROGGIE'S PARTY.</h2>
+
+<div class='sig'>Music by <span class='smcap'>T. Crampton</span>.</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/illus096-music.png" width="500" height="734" 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/mar78.mid">here</a>.]</small><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+1. The frog who would a-wooing go,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gave a party, you must know;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And his bride dress'd all in green,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Look'd as fine as any queen.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their reception number'd some</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of the best in Froggiedom:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Four gray froggies play'd the fiddle,&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hands all round and down the middle;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh! oh! oh! oh! away we go!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hopping and jumping away we go!</span><br />
+<br />
+2. Some stern old croakers there did come,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In white chokers to the room;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While the belles with rush-leaf fans,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Danc'd with beaux in green brogans,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Flirted in the bowers there,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hidden from the ball-room's glare:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Three old froggies tried a reel,&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Twist 'em, turn 'em, toe and heel,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a oh! oh! oh! away we go!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hopping and jumping away we go!</span><br />
+<br />
+3. One little Miss was ask'd to sing,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But she had a cold that spring;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little frogs were sound asleep,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Late hours&mdash;bad for them to keep.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each one wish'd the couple joy,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No bad boys came to annoy:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This next fall the news is spreading</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They will have their silver wedding!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh! oh! oh! oh! away we go!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hopping and jumping away we go!</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+<div class='tnote'>
+<h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3>
+
+<p>The title page and table of contents were created for this issue
+following the pattern from the 1877 issues.</p>
+
+<p>Page 70, period added at end of paragraph (a good-sized load)</p>
+
+<p>Page 75, extra comma removed. Original read (crow, is quick)</p>
+
+<p>Page 95, single quotation mark changed to double quotation mark
+(more about them.")</p>
+<p>On the midi, bar 6, bass staff, both notes changed to D-sharps.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nursery, March 1878, Vol. XXIII.
+No. 3, by Various
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:37:32 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:37:32 -0700
commit	3f8576bfb0a92b103c35a1fb97718247c2754994 (patch)
tree	6daa85997f92686a1acedb51192a4d80f2f7b4ce /28142-h