initial commit of ebook 29357HEAD main

author: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 02:47:22 -0700
committer: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 02:47:22 -0700
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Young Folks at Home and Abroad, by Various</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Our Young Folks at Home and Abroad</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Various</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: Daphne Dale</div>
+<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 8, 2009 [eBook #29357]</div>
+<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Alicia Williams, Chrome, the dedicated librarians who helped on this project, Sam W. and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR YOUNG FOLKS AT HOME AND ABROAD ***</div>
+
+<!-- There were no page numbers in the origial version of this book.
+Page anchors relate to the .png image numbers used from the copy which
+went through the Distributed Proofreaders site. If anybody wishes to
+add linked page images in future, hopefully this should help. -->
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter padtop padbase" style="width: 433px;">
+<img src="images/oyf001.jpg" width="433" height="600"
+alt="Front cover - Our Young Folks at Home and Abroad, showing a boy and two girls" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"><!-- original location of illustration ANIMAL LIFE FROM EVERY ZONE --></a></span></p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a></span></p>
+
+
+<h1 class="padtop">OUR YOUNG FOLKS<br />
+AT HOME AND ABROAD:</h1>
+
+<p class="center smlpadt xlrgfont"><i>Illustrated Sketches and Poems<br />
+for Young People.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop smlfont">BY</p>
+
+<p class="center">ANNIE D. BELL, CLARA J. DENTON, AMANDA M. DOUGLAS,<br />
+FRANK H. SELDEN, CHAS. T. JEROME, LAURA<br />
+E. RICHARDS, MRS. L. A. CURTIS,<br />
+OLIVER OPTIC, ETC.</p>
+
+<p class="center smlpadt lrgfont"><i>ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop smlfont">BY</p>
+
+<p class="center">F. S. CHURCH, E. H. GARRETT, A. S. COX, CULMER BARNES,<br />
+PARKER HAYDEN, H. MOSER, H. PRUETT SHARE,<br />
+MISS L. B. HUMPHREY, ETC., ETC.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center padtop padbase">
+&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br />
+<span class="smlfont">EDITED BY</span><br />
+<span class="lrgfont">DAPHNE DALE.</span><br />
+&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">LONDON&mdash;NEW YORK&mdash;CHICAGO:<br />
+W. B. CONKEY COMPANY,<br />
+PUBLISHERS.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop padbase">
+&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br />
+<span class="smcap">Copyright 1894,<br />
+W. B. Conkey Company.</span><br />
+&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 456px;">
+<img src="images/oyf002.jpg" width="456" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ANIMAL LIFE FROM EVERY ZONE.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p>
+<a href="#the_kittens_stepmother">THE KITTENS&rsquo; STEPMOTHER</a><br />
+<a href="#how_some_seeds_are_planted">HOW SOME SEEDS ARE PLANTED</a><br />
+<a href="#old_scores_repaid_or_tragedy_reversed">OLD SCORES REPAID, OR TRAGEDY REVERSED</a><br />
+<a href="#tippy_the_firemens_dog">TIPPY, THE FIREMEN&rsquo;S DOG</a><br />
+<a href="#nine_little_foxes">NINE LITTLE FOXES</a><br />
+<a href="#what_ailed_the_bell">WHAT AILED THE BELL</a><br />
+<a href="#the_hook_and_ladder">THE HOOK AND LADDER</a><br />
+<a href="#little_joes_ride">LITTLE JOE&rsquo;S RIDE</a><br />
+<a href="#gypsy_and_his_tricks">GYPSY AND HIS TRICKS</a><br />
+<a href="#a_little_girls_wedding_gift">A LITTLE GIRL&rsquo;S WEDDING GIFT</a><br />
+<a href="#do_right">DO RIGHT</a><br />
+<a href="#dog_prince">DOG PRINCE</a><br />
+<a href="#where_the_pretty_path_led">WHERE THE PRETTY PATH LED</a><br />
+<a href="#a_letter_to_mother_nature">A LETTER TO MOTHER NATURE</a><br />
+<a href="#our_may_day_at_the_south">OUR MAY-DAY AT THE SOUTH</a><br />
+<a href="#berties_story_and_mine">BERTIE&rsquo;S STORY AND MINE</a><br />
+<a href="#the_porcupines_quills">THE PORCUPINE&rsquo;S QUILLS</a><br />
+<a href="#love_your_enemies">LOVE YOUR ENEMIES</a><br />
+<a href="#the_merciful_prince">THE MERCIFUL PRINCE</a><br />
+<a href="#the_opossum_in_the_hen_house">THE OPOSSUM IN THE HEN-HOUSE</a><br />
+<a href="#how_roy_went_a_fishing">HOW ROY WENT A FISHING</a><br />
+<a href="#a_bear_story">A BEAR-STORY</a><br />
+<a href="#hear_us_sing_see_us_swing">HEAR US SING, SEE US SWING, UP IN THE OLD OAK TREE</a><br />
+<a href="#sailor_babies">SAILOR BABIES</a><br />
+<a href="#pretty_polly_primrose">PRETTY POLLY PRIMROSE</a><br />
+<a href="#look_at_the_baby">LOOK AT THE BABY</a><br />
+<a href="#an_unlucky_sail">AN UNLUCKY SAIL</a><br />
+<a href="#to_strawberry_town">TO STRAWBERRY TOWN</a><br />
+<a href="#flossie_and_her_shoe_boat">FLOSSIE AND HER SHOE-BOAT</a><br />
+<a href="#nellies_lunch">NELLIE&rsquo;S LUNCH</a><br />
+<a href="#dime_and_the_baby">DIME AND THE BABY</a><br />
+<a href="#wide_awake_land">WIDE-AWAKE LAND</a><br />
+<a href="#lulus_first_thanksgiving">LULU&rsquo;S FIRST THANKSGIVING</a><br />
+<a href="#the_sun_kiss">THE SUN-KISS</a><br />
+<a href="#the_country_week">THE COUNTRY WEEK</a><br />
+<a href="#the_road_to_school">THE ROAD TO SCHOOL</a><br />
+<a href="#what_sammys_monkey_did">WHAT SAMMY&rsquo;S MONKEY DID</a><br />
+<a href="#bessie_in_the_mountains">BESSIE IN THE MOUNTAINS</a><br />
+<a href="#paulines_strange_pets">PAULINE&rsquo;S STRANGE PETS</a><br />
+<a href="#go_halves">&ldquo;GO HALVES!&rdquo;</a><br />
+<a href="#little_games">LITTLE GAMES</a><br />
+<a href="#what_we_found_in_our_stove">WHAT WE FOUND IN OUR STOVE</a><br />
+<a href="#the_john_and_lincoln_fleet">THE JOHN AND LINCOLN FLEET</a><br />
+<a href="#the_yacht_starlight">THE YACHT STARLIGHT</a><br />
+<a href="#the_new_parasol">THE NEW PARASOL</a><br />
+<a href="#the_man_who_was_shaken_by_a_lion">THE MAN WHO WAS SHAKEN BY A LION</a><br />
+<a href="#the_laughing_jackass">THE LAUGHING JACKASS</a><br />
+<a href="#the_trick_they_played_on_jocko">THE TRICK THEY PLAYED ON JOCKO</a><br />
+<a href="#some_other_things_bobby_saw_at_sea">SOME OTHER THINGS BOBBY SAW AT SEA</a><br />
+<a href="#the_mosquito">THE MOSQUITO</a><br />
+<a href="#the_laughing_girl">THE LAUGHING GIRL</a><br />
+<a href="#annies_ducks">ANNIE&rsquo;S DUCKS</a><br />
+<a href="#vick_in_trouble">VICK IN TROUBLE</a><br />
+<a href="#in_grandmas_attic">IN GRANDMA&rsquo;S ATTIC</a><br />
+<a href="#little_girl_gracie">LITTLE GIRL GRACIE</a><br />
+<a href="#a_magpie_and_her_nest">A MAGPIE AND HER NEST</a><br />
+<a href="#at_the_beach">AT THE BEACH</a><br />
+<a href="#farmer_gray_and_his_apples">FARMER GRAY AND HIS APPLES</a><br />
+<a href="#ah_kee">AH KEE</a><br />
+<a href="#dick_and_gray">DICK AND GRAY</a><br />
+<a href="#the_return_of_the_birds">THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS</a><br />
+<a href="#first_reward_of_merit">FIRST REWARD OF MERIT</a><br />
+<a href="#four_little_mice">FOUR LITTLE MICE</a><br />
+<a href="#finnette">FINNETTE</a><br />
+<a href="#about_the_deer">ABOUT THE DEER</a><br />
+<a href="#everybodys_dog">EVERYBODY&rsquo;S DOG</a><br />
+<a href="#a_birds_nest">A BIRD&rsquo;S NEST</a><br />
+<a href="#a_rainy_day">A RAINY DAY</a><br />
+<a href="#the_story_of_a_cane">THE STORY OF A CANE</a><br />
+<a href="#miss_lollipops_fancies">MISS LOLLIPOP&rsquo;S FANCIES</a><br />
+<a href="#tommys_temptation">TOMMY&rsquo;S TEMPTATION</a><br />
+<a href="#a_bear_story2">A BEAR STORY</a><br />
+<a href="#annas_birthday_gift">ANNA&rsquo;S BIRTHDAY GIFT</a><br />
+<a href="#ralph_and_the_butterflies">RALPH AND THE BUTTERFLIES</a><br />
+<a href="#poem1">A POEM</a><br />
+<a href="#toms_letter">TOM&rsquo;S LETTER</a><br />
+<a href="#janeys_present">JANEY&rsquo;S PRESENT</a><br />
+<a href="#good_old_rose">GOOD OLD ROSE</a><br />
+<a href="#aunt_pattys_pets">AUNT PATTY&rsquo;S PETS</a><br />
+<a href="#tommy_and_the_gander">TOMMY AND THE GANDER</a><br />
+<a href="#a_night_visitor">A NIGHT VISITOR</a><br />
+<a href="#the_night_monkey">THE NIGHT MONKEY</a><br />
+<a href="#babys_nap">BABY&rsquo;S NAP</a><br />
+<a href="#hurrah_hurrah">HURRAH! HURRAH!</a><br />
+<a href="#moses_goes_to_a_candy_party">MOSES GOES TO A CANDY PARTY</a><br />
+<a href="#fans_cards_a_christmas_hint">FAN&rsquo;S CARDS:&mdash;A CHRISTMAS HINT</a><br />
+<a href="#kittys_tramp">KITTY&rsquo;S TRAMP</a><br />
+<a href="#three_royal_children">THREE ROYAL CHILDREN</a><br />
+<a href="#an_ostrich_plume">AN OSTRICH PLUME</a><br />
+<a href="#who_killed_the_goose">WHO KILLED THE GOOSE?</a><br />
+<a href="#a_temperance_horse">A TEMPERANCE HORSE</a><br />
+<a href="#how_the_wind_blows">HOW THE WIND BLOWS</a><br />
+<a href="#dime_and_betty">DIME AND BETTY</a><br />
+<a href="#saved_from_freezing_to_death">SAVED FROM FREEZING TO DEATH</a><br />
+<a href="#lilys_garden">LILY&rsquo;S GARDEN</a><br />
+<a href="#where">WHERE?</a><br />
+<a href="#a_goat_in_trouble">A GOAT IN TROUBLE</a><br />
+<a href="#a_negro_melodist">A NEGRO MELODIST</a><br />
+<a href="#time_enough">TIME ENOUGH</a><br />
+<a href="#the_mouse_wedding">THE MOUSE WEDDING</a><br />
+<a href="#she_had_never_seen_a_tree">SHE HAD NEVER SEEN A TREE</a><br />
+<a href="#a_funny_horse">A FUNNY HORSE</a><br />
+<a href="#mrs_gimsons_summer_boarders">MRS. GIMSON&rsquo;S SUMMER BOARDERS</a><br />
+<a href="#as_night_came_darkly_down">AS NIGHT CAME DARKLY DOWN</a><br />
+<a href="#grandmothers_clock">GRANDMOTHER&rsquo;S CLOCK</a><br />
+<a href="#a_stuffed_jumbo">A STUFFED JUMBO</a><br />
+<a href="#the_trees_in_silver_land">THE TREES IN SILVER LAND</a><br />
+<a href="#small_beginnings">SMALL BEGINNINGS</a><br />
+<a href="#garden_of_the_gods">GARDEN OF THE GODS</a><br />
+<a href="#young_artist">YOUNG ARTIST</a><br />
+<a href="#a_chance_word">A CHANCE WORD</a><br />
+<a href="#a_little_dance">A LITTLE DANCE</a><br />
+<a href="#looking_out_for_number_one">LOOKING OUT FOR NUMBER ONE</a><br />
+<a href="#woodcroft">WOODCROFT</a><br />
+<a href="#in_the_woods">IN THE WOODS</a><br />
+<a href="#autumn_leaves_and_what_katie_did">AUTUMN LEAVES, AND WHAT KATIE DID</a><br />
+<a href="#the_spinning_lesson">THE SPINNING LESSON</a><br />
+<a href="#foster_parents">FOSTER PARENTS</a><br />
+<a href="#haymaking">HAYMAKING</a><br />
+<a href="#window_gardening">WINDOW GARDENING</a><br />
+<a href="#cheer_up">&ldquo;CHEER UP.&rdquo;</a><br />
+<a href="#waifs_romance">WAIF&rsquo;S ROMANCE</a><br />
+<a href="#may_i_go_with_you">&ldquo;MAY I GO WITH YOU?&rdquo;</a><br />
+<a href="#a_summer_at_willow_spring">A SUMMER AT WILLOW-SPRING</a><br />
+<a href="#great_expectations">GREAT EXPECTATIONS</a><br />
+<a href="#wheres_sophie">&ldquo;WHERE&rsquo;S SOPHIE?&rdquo;</a><br />
+<a href="#if_i_can_i_will">&ldquo;IF I CAN, I WILL.&rdquo;</a><br />
+<a href="#windsor_castle">WINDSOR CASTLE</a><br />
+<a href="#the_little_princes">THE LITTLE PRINCES</a><br />
+<a href="#the_tower_of_london">THE TOWER OF LONDON</a><br />
+<a href="#mary_and_her_lamb">MARY AND HER LAMB</a><br />
+<a href="#jamies_garden">JAMIE&rsquo;S GARDEN</a><br />
+<a href="#camp_trio">CAMP TRIO</a><br />
+<a href="#the_sentimental_fox">THE SENTIMENTAL FOX</a><br />
+<a href="#earthen_vessels">EARTHEN VESSELS</a><br />
+<a href="#birdies_breakfast">BIRDIE&rsquo;S BREAKFAST</a><br />
+<a href="#a_battle">A BATTLE</a><br />
+<a href="#grace_darling_the_heroine">GRACE DARLING, THE HEROINE</a><br />
+<a href="#adam_and_eve">ADAM AND EVE</a><br />
+<a href="#swinging_song">SWINGING SONG</a><br />
+<a href="#how_the_days_went_at_sea_gull_beach">HOW THE DAYS WENT AT SEA-GULL BEACH</a><br />
+<a href="#max_and_beppo">MAX AND BEPPO</a><br />
+<a href="#pansies">PANSIES</a><br />
+<a href="#come_little_bird">&ldquo;COME, LITTLE BIRD!&rdquo;</a><br />
+<a href="#sirenas_trouble">SIRENA&rsquo;S TROUBLE</a><br />
+<a href="#lady_violet">LADY VIOLET</a><br />
+<a href="#on_trial">ON TRIAL</a><br />
+<a href="#two_little_girls">TWO LITTLE GIRLS</a><br />
+<a href="#helpful_words">HELPFUL WORDS</a><br />
+<a href="#false_shame">FALSE SHAME</a><br />
+<a href="#clara_and_the_animal_book">CLARA AND THE ANIMAL BOOK</a><br />
+<a href="#anecdote1">AN ANECDOTE</a><br />
+<a href="#the_unsociable_ducks">THE UNSOCIABLE DUCKS</a><br />
+<a href="#putting_out_the_candle">PUTTING OUT THE CANDLE</a><br />
+<a href="#sulky_archie">SULKY ARCHIE</a><br />
+<a href="#a_wish_for_wings">A WISH FOR WINGS</a><br />
+<a href="#consequences_a_parable">CONSEQUENCES: A PARABLE</a><br />
+<a href="#comfortable_mrs_crook">COMFORTABLE MRS. CROOK</a><br />
+<a href="#an_evening_song">AN EVENING SONG</a><br />
+<a href="#but_then">&ldquo;BUT THEN.&rdquo;</a><br />
+<a href="#anecdote2">AN ANECDOTE</a><br />
+<a href="#what_the_snail_said">WHAT THE SNAIL SAID</a><br />
+<a href="#only_now_and_then">ONLY NOW AND THEN</a><br />
+<a href="#a_serpent_among_the_books">A SERPENT AMONG THE BOOKS</a><br />
+<a href="#little_mother">&ldquo;LITTLE MOTHER.&rdquo;</a><br />
+<a href="#little_scatter">LITTLE SCATTER</a><br />
+<a href="#what_chicky_thinks">WHAT CHICKY THINKS</a><br />
+<a href="#stop_a_while">STOP-A-WHILE</a><br />
+<a href="#the_birds_concert">THE BIRDS&rsquo; CONCERT</a><br />
+<a href="#only_a_boy">ONLY A BOY</a><br />
+<a href="#bird_needlework">BIRD NEEDLEWORK</a><br />
+<a href="#he_was_a_gentleman">HE WAS A GENTLEMAN</a><br />
+<a href="#time_for_bed">TIME FOR BED</a><br />
+<a href="#the_value_of_a_good_name">THE VALUE OF A GOOD NAME</a><br />
+<a href="#dingfords_baby">DINGFORD&rsquo;S BABY</a><br />
+<a href="#a_bed_time_story">A BED-TIME STORY</a><br />
+<a href="#the_lesson_after_recess">THE LESSON AFTER RECESS</a><br />
+<a href="#the_lion_at_the_zoo">THE LION AT THE &ldquo;ZOO&rdquo;</a><br />
+<a href="#disobeying_mother">DISOBEYING MOTHER</a><br />
+<a href="#plants_that_eat">PLANTS THAT EAT</a><br />
+<a href="#the_cuckoo_clock">THE CUCKOO CLOCK</a><br />
+<a href="#davys_girl">DAVY&rsquo;S GIRL</a><br />
+<a href="#early_tea">EARLY TEA</a><br />
+<a href="#boney">BONEY</a><br />
+<a href="#catching_snow_flakes">CATCHING SNOW FLAKES</a><br />
+<a href="#a_mischievous_monkey">A MISCHIEVOUS MONKEY</a><br />
+<a href="#the_african_slave_boy">THE AFRICAN SLAVE BOY</a><br />
+<a href="#climbing">CLIMBING</a><br />
+<a href="#little_elsie">LITTLE ELSIE</a><br />
+<a href="#kitty_striker">KITTY STRIKER</a><br />
+<a href="#maying">MAYING</a><br />
+<a href="#gracies_temper">GRACIE&rsquo;S TEMPER</a><br />
+<a href="#anecdote3">AN ANECDOTE</a><br />
+<a href="#the_sweet_grass_house">THE SWEET-GRASS HOUSE</a><br />
+<a href="#johnnys_garden">JOHNNY&rsquo;S GARDEN</a><br />
+<a href="#boy_billy_and_the_rabbit">BOY BILLY AND THE RABBIT</a><br />
+<a href="#a_fish_story">A FISH STORY</a><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/oyf003.png" width="600" height="59"
+alt="Title - Our Young Folks at Home and Abroad" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf004.jpg" width="500" height="260"
+alt="Three orphans, one mourner" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="the_kittens_stepmother" id="the_kittens_stepmother"></a>THE KITTENS&rsquo; STEPMOTHER.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There are two little girls living nearly a hundred rods apart,
+Mamie and Fannie. Each had a nice pet cat.</p>
+
+<p>Mamie&rsquo;s cat had three little kittens. When they were about three
+weeks old their poor mother was killed by a useless dog. For two
+days Mamie fed her kittens with a spoon, and did all she could to
+comfort them; but they would cry for their mother.</p>
+
+<p>Fannie&rsquo;s cat had only one kitten, and it died at once. Then Mamie
+took her three motherless kittens down to Fannie&rsquo;s cat to see if she
+would adopt them. She took them at once, and made a great fuss
+over them. Then she was allowed to raise them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a></span>
+When Mamie thought her kittens were old enough she took all
+three of them home again. But their stepmother would neither eat
+nor drink. She cried and looked for the kittens. At last Fannie
+carried her cat up to Mamie&rsquo;s house to see the kittens. Then mother
+and kittens were all happy again, and played together as if they had
+never been separated.</p>
+
+<p>When the girls saw how much the cat and kittens were attached
+to each other they concluded to take Fannie&rsquo;s cat home again with
+only two of the kittens; in a short time bring back one of them, and
+later the last one. In this way they thought they could separate
+them without any trouble.</p>
+
+<p>Fannie&rsquo;s cat was not pleased with this plan. She began to look
+for and call the third kitten. The next morning, when Mamie went
+to feed her one kitten, she could not find it anywhere about the barn
+or woodshed. She went down to Fannie&rsquo;s house, and there she found
+her kitten. Sometime in the night Fannie&rsquo;s cat went to Mamie&rsquo;s
+house, found the kitten, and carried it home. Since that time the
+girls have not tried to part the cat and kittens, and they are a happy
+family.</p>
+
+<p class="author">MAMIE A. AND FANNIE H.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/oyf005.jpg" width="400" height="325"
+alt="A kitten in a basket" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 367px;">
+<img src="images/oyf006.jpg" width="367" height="550"
+alt="A country scene, with a boy flying a kite" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="how_some_seeds_are_planted" id="how_some_seeds_are_planted"></a>HOW SOME SEEDS ARE PLANTED.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Many noble oak-trees are planted by the little squirrel. Running
+up the branches, this little animal strips off the acorns, and buries
+them in the ground for food in the cold weather; and when he
+goes to hunt them up he does not find all of them. Those he leaves
+behind often grow up into great and beautiful trees.</p>
+
+<p>The nuthatch, too, among the birds, is a great planter. After
+<!-- Page 8 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a></span>
+twisting off a cluster of beech-nuts this queer little bird carries them
+to some favorite tree, and pegs them into the crevices of the bark in
+a curious way. How, we cannot tell. After a while they fall to
+the ground, and there grow into large trees.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 367px;">
+<img src="images/oyf007.jpg" width="367" height="500"
+alt="Trees on the bank of a stream" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Some larger animals are good seed-planters, and have sometimes
+covered barren countries with trees. It is very singular that animals
+and birds can do so much farm-work, isn&rsquo;t it?</p>
+
+<p class="author">MRS. G. HALL.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf008.jpg" width="500" height="170"
+alt="A cat catches a mouse" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="old_scores_repaid_or_tragedy_reversed" id="old_scores_repaid_or_tragedy_reversed"></a>OLD SCORES REPAID, OR TRAGEDY REVERSED.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I met a tearful little lass;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She sobbed so hard I could not pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I wondered so thereat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, dry your tears, my pretty child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pray tell me why you grieve so wild.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&ldquo;A&mdash;mouse&mdash;ate&mdash;up&mdash;my&mdash;cat!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf009.jpg" width="500" height="289"
+alt="A mouse looks at a candy cat" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf010.jpg" width="500" height="278"
+alt="A mouse eating a candy cat" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;A mouse ate up your cat!&rdquo; I cried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To think she&rsquo;d fib quite horrified;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&ldquo;Why, how can you say that?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her tears afresh began to run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She sobbed the words out, one by one:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&ldquo;It&mdash;was&mdash;a&mdash;candy&mdash;cat!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">S. ISADORE MINER.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf011.jpg" width="500" height="179"
+alt="Three mice examining a mousetrap" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="tippy_the_firemens_dog" id="tippy_the_firemens_dog"></a>TIPPY, THE FIREMEN&rsquo;S DOG.</h2>
+
+<p><span class="dcapt"><span class="dropcap">T</span></span>IPPY was a little, black dog, and he lived
+at the engine-house, where the great
+engines, which put out the
+fires, were kept.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/oyf012.jpg" width="250" height="211"
+alt="Tippy barking" />
+</div>
+
+<p>He was a poor, miserable,
+little dog, without a home until
+the firemen took pity on
+him and gave him one.</p>
+
+<p>Dick was one of the horses
+that helped to pull the engine. He was very large and black, with
+a white spot on his forehead. He and Tippy were fine friends.</p>
+
+<p>When it was cold the little
+dog would curl close down by
+Dick&rsquo;s back, and sleep all night,
+as warm as could be.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when it was Dick&rsquo;s
+dinner-time, and he was very
+hungry, Tippy kept running
+into his stall and barking and
+biting at his heels.</p>
+
+<p>Dick did not like it, and he
+wanted his dinner so much that
+it made him cross. So he put
+down his head, took Tippy by the back of the neck, and lifted
+him over the side of the low stall, as much as to say:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you won&rsquo;t go out I will
+put you out!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/oyf013.jpg" width="250" height="159"
+alt="Tippy carrying a bucket" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Tippy soon grew to know what
+the engines were for, and when
+the fire-bells rang, and the great
+horses came from their stalls
+ready to be harnessed to the
+engine, he would bark and jump
+up and down, and beg to go too.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 429px;">
+<img src="images/oyf014.jpg" width="429" height="600"
+alt="Dick lifts Tippy over the stable door" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">TIPPY, THE FIREMEN&rsquo;S DOG.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a></span>
+One day he hid under the driver&rsquo;s seat, and the firemen did not
+see him, so he went to the fire.</p>
+
+<p>After that, the instant an alarm sounded, Tippy would spring on
+the engine. As it dashed down the street, the bells ringing, the firemen
+shouting, he would bark to let the people along the way know
+he was going to help put out the fire.</p>
+
+<p>Every day the firemen would give Tippy a basket, and a penny to
+buy a bone with. He would take the basket in his mouth, and trot
+across the street to the butcher&rsquo;s for the bone. The butcher would
+take the penny out, and put a bone in its place, and Tippy would run
+home to eat his breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>Once in a while Tippy would be very naughty, and would have to
+be punished. Then the firemen would make him sit on a chair for a
+long while, until he would promise, by a bark which meant, &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo;
+that he would be good.</p>
+
+<p class="author">LOUISE THRUSH BROOKS.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 319px;">
+<img src="images/oyf015.jpg" width="319" height="400"
+alt="Tippy sitting on a chair" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf016.jpg" width="500" height="243"
+alt="A fox and some cubs" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="nine_little_foxes" id="nine_little_foxes"></a>NINE LITTLE FOXES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Tommy and Bessie, Bert, and even little Caddie, think there is no
+treat like a visit to Covill Farm.</p>
+
+<p>They all jumped for joy when, one bright afternoon in early summer,
+their papa said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am going out past the Covill Farm, and if any little folks want
+to go along they may stop there while I do my errands.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>How soon they were all ready! How busy all the little tongues
+were, talking over what they would see and do!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;ll be lots of little chickens now; and ducklings, too!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; and we&rsquo;ll see the dear little lambs, and the little calfeys!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And maybe we can go down to the boat-house, and have a row
+on the lake!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But they never dreamed of the funny sight they really saw that
+afternoon. Papa set them all down at the gate, and drove on, promising
+to come back for them in an hour.</p>
+
+<p>When he came back he tied his horse, and set out to find the little
+folks. But in a few moments they saw him, and came rushing across
+the yard, all talking at once:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;O papa, come! come and see!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Oh, so funny!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Little two-year-old Caddie was as much excited as the rest; she
+cried:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 481px;">
+<img src="images/oyf017.jpg" width="481" height="500"
+alt="Nine fox cubs" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take my hand, papa! Little piggies shall not bite you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Little piggies,&rdquo; indeed! Little foxes they were; and nine of the
+cunning creatures. Only think!</p>
+
+<p>The manager of the farm said that something had been killing his
+lambs, and he had been on the watch to find out the rascal.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when he was out with his gun, he saw something moving
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a></span>
+near an old woodchuck hole; at least, there had been woodchucks
+there the year before.</p>
+
+<p>He went nearer, expecting to see a woodchuck again; but there
+were these little foxes playing around. The woodchucks must have
+burrowed out, and an old fox taken possession of their hole for a
+den.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Nash lay down on the ground to count the funny little things,
+and watch them tumbling over each other. Then he tried to stop
+up the entrance to their den with his coat, so that he could catch
+them. But a tree root lay across the hole in such a way that there
+was a place left big enough for the little foxes to get in; and in they
+went.</p>
+
+<p>Then Mr. Nash went and called a man to help him. They took
+spades and dug into the hole until they found them.</p>
+
+<p>They carried them up to the farm-yard, and put them into a pen.
+They were of a tawny color; and when the children saw them they
+were about as large as cats, and as full of play as any kittens.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Nash said he did not want to kill them, because they were so
+cunning. But it was a good thing that he caught them. Just think
+how many chickens, and ducks, and geese, and lambs those nine foxes
+might have killed, if they had grown up in their den!</p>
+
+<p class="author">MRS. D. P. SANFORD.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/oyf018.jpg" width="400" height="189"
+alt="A fox cub sitting on a table" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="what_ailed_the_bell" id="what_ailed_the_bell"></a>
+<img src="images/oyf019.jpg" width="600" height="296"
+alt="Decorative title - What Ailed the Bell" title="What Ailed the Bell" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>It was the first day of school after a
+vacation. The children were playing in the yards.
+The teachers sat at their desks waiting for the bell to strike
+to call the children to the different rooms. The hands of the
+different clocks pointed to a quarter before nine.</p>
+
+<p>The bell was a sort of gong, fastened to the outside of the building,
+and the master of the school could ring it by touching a knob in the
+wall near his desk. It was now time to call the children into school.
+The master pulled the bell and waited. Still the merry shouts
+could be heard in the school-yards. Very strange! The
+children were so engaged in play that they
+could not hear the bell, he thought.
+Then he pulled it more vigorously.
+Still the shouts and laughter continued.</p>
+
+<p>The master raised his window,
+clapped his hands, and pointed to
+the bell.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 308px;">
+<img src="images/oyf020.jpg" width="308" height="400"
+alt="The master looks out of the window" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The children rushed into line
+like little soldiers, and waited
+for the second signal. The
+teacher pulled and pulled,
+but there was no sound.
+Then he sent a boy to tell
+each line to file in, and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a></span>
+he sent another boy for a carpenter to find out if the bell-cord was
+broken.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 278px;">
+<img src="images/oyf021.jpg" width="278" height="500"
+alt="A boy clears the empty nest away from the bell" />
+</div>
+
+<p>What do you
+think the carpenter
+found? A little
+sparrow had built
+its nest inside the
+bell, and prevented
+the hammer striking
+against the bell.
+The teacher told
+the children what
+the trouble was,
+and asked if the
+nest should be
+taken out. There
+was a loud chorus
+of &ldquo;No, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Every day the
+four hundred children
+would gather
+in the yard and
+look up at the nest.
+When the little
+birds were able to
+fly to the trees in
+the yard, and no
+longer needed a
+nest, one of the
+boys climbed on a ladder and cleared away the straw and hay so that
+the sound of the bell might call the children from play.</p>
+
+<p class="author">M. A. HALEY.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 470px;">
+<img src="images/oyf022.jpg" width="470" height="500"
+alt="Boys at play" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="the_hook_and_ladder" id="the_hook_and_ladder"></a>THE HOOK AND LADDER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The frosts in the door-yard maple<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Had lighted a fine red blaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And one of the golden twilights<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That come September days:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The neighborhood lads had gathered<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To play their usual plays.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table class="tree" summary="Verses 2 to 4">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br />
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">Frankie was good at planning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And seeing the glowing tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s have a fire department<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And play &rsquo;tis a house!&rdquo; said he.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">&ldquo;Oh, yes, a hook and ladder,&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Cried all; &ldquo;what fun &rsquo;twill be!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">So they put the hose on the hydrant.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Searched everywhere about<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Until they found a ladder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And then, with yell and shout<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Of &ldquo;fire&rdquo; and clang of &ldquo;ding-dong,&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">They rushed to put it out.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">The hosemen pulled their jackets<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hastily from their backs;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">One climbed the tree like a squirrel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With a ball-bat for an axe<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And he hewed at the beautiful branches<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With frantic hacks and whacks.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+<br /><br /><br />
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">Some one turned on the water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the boy in the foremost place<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Got the full force from the nozzle<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Square in his little face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he cried for half a minute<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With the funniest grimace.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf024.jpg" width="500" height="354"
+alt="One boy is soaked by another boy with a hose" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The stream flew this way, that way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And up to the tree&rsquo;s bright top,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And back came the water splashing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With reckless slosh and slop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with it showers of red leaves<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And twigs began to drop.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This small boys&rsquo; Hook and Ladder<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was a very good company,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they squirted till the sidewalk<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was like a mimic sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they didn&rsquo;t put out the fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the old red maple-tree.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf025.jpg" width="500" height="391"
+alt="Joe, his uncle and the horse" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="little_joes_ride" id="little_joes_ride"></a>LITTLE JOE&rsquo;S RIDE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good Billy! nice Billy!&rdquo; said little Joe, as he patted the nose of
+the old black horse. &ldquo;Say, Uncle John, can&rsquo;t I ride him to water?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am afraid you cannot hang on to him,&rdquo; replied his uncle.
+&ldquo;Did you ever ride a horse?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, uncle; but I am sure I can,&rdquo; answered Joe. &ldquo;Please let me
+try. I&rsquo;ll take hold of his mane with both hands, and hang on as
+hard as ever I can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you may try it. There is the trough, against that fence,
+the other side of the barn. Look out that old Billy does not give
+you a ducking.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never fear for me,&rdquo; cried Joe, riding away in great glee.</p>
+
+<p>He was a little city boy, and had come out to the farm to make his
+uncle a visit. He thought it great fun to take a ride on horseback.</p>
+
+<p>It did not take him long to find the trough, for old Billy knew the
+way right well. Then, how it happened, Joe never could tell: Billy
+put his head down quite suddenly, and right over it slid the little
+boy with a great splash, head first into the water.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a></span>
+Of course he was not hurt. He caught hold of the fence and
+came out, dripping from head to foot.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 348px;">
+<img src="images/oyf026.jpg" width="348" height="500"
+alt="Joe in the water trough" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Old Billy looked on rather surprised, but got his drink. He let Joe
+lead him back to the barn, and how Uncle John did laugh at him.
+Joe laughed too, as he went off to get on some dry clothes. Though
+he took a good many rides after that, he never forgot his first one
+on old Billy&rsquo;s back.</p>
+
+<p class="author">MRS. M. E. SANDFORD.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf027.jpg" width="500" height="395"
+alt="Gypsy pulling a small two-wheeled cart" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="gypsy_and_his_tricks" id="gypsy_and_his_tricks"></a>GYPSY AND HIS TRICKS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>When Harry was six years old his grandfather sent him a very
+nice present from the farm. You cannot
+guess what it was, so I will tell you.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 294px;">
+<img src="images/oyf028.jpg" width="294" height="300"
+alt="Gypsy standing on his head" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A goat, with a harness and cart, for
+Harry to drive him. Harry named him
+Gypsy, because he was so black.</p>
+
+<p>Gypsy and Harry had a great many
+good times together. He would draw
+Harry to school and then wait
+very patiently under the shade
+of a tree until school was out.
+All the school-children were
+very fond of him and would
+bring him sweet apples and
+cake.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf029.jpg" width="300" height="225"
+alt="Gypsy bowing" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The teacher was fond
+of Gypsy, too, and would
+often bring sugar to
+him; but she never let
+Gypsy have it until he
+had performed one of
+the tricks the boys had
+taught him. He must
+either stand on his
+head, bow, or dance.
+Gypsy could do all
+these.</p>
+
+<p>One day Gypsy did something very funny. It was a very hot day,
+and Harry thought he would unharness him and let him roam around
+the school-yard.</p>
+
+<p>What do you think Gypsy did? He walked into the school-house,
+straight up to the teacher, and stood on his head. He was begging
+for sugar.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 265px;">
+<img src="images/oyf030.jpg" width="265" height="350"
+alt="Gypsy standing on his hind legs" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The teacher laughed with
+the scholars, and said, &ldquo;Gypsy,
+you have learned your
+lesson well; now I&rsquo;ll excuse
+you, and let you go out to
+play.&rdquo; And then she drove
+him out.</p>
+
+<p>One of the boys begged
+leave to give Gypsy an apple,
+and the teacher said he might.
+Gypsy took the apple in his
+mouth and made a little bow.</p>
+
+<p>The scholars laughed so
+long that the teacher had to
+close the door for fear Gypsy
+would do some other funny
+thing.</p>
+
+<p class="author">KATY KYLE.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="center">
+<a name="a_little_girls_wedding_gift" id="a_little_girls_wedding_gift"></a>
+<table class="gift" title="A Little Girl&#39;s Wedding Gift" summary="Verses 1 to 3">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If I could choose a wedding gift,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;d climb for you the rainbow stairs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bring a star to bless<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This day of happiness.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">As I came down, a bird I&rsquo;d lift<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From off his nest, that his sweet airs<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And songs might you delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From rosy morn till night.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">But rainbow stairs are hard to mount,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The birds hide in the trees&rsquo; green shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And so I bring, dear friend, to you<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The flowers wet with dew.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+<br />
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf032.jpg" width="500" height="573"
+alt="Two little girls" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Take them, and then take me; please count<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My eyes your stars; the little maid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who offers flowers, your bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose heart with love is stirred.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf033.jpg" width="500" height="246"
+alt="A little girl in a patch of flowers" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May child love and the birds together<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make all your life like summer weather;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May flowers blossom in your sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And golden stars bring peace at night.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">MRS. E. ANNETTE HILLS.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="do_right" id="do_right"></a>DO RIGHT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Well met, my little man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now tell me, if you can,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very nicest way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To spend this long, dull day.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Well, sir, my mother says,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all the pretty ways<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To make a dark day bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The best is just do right!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">M. J. T.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="dog_prince" id="dog_prince"></a>DOG PRINCE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;Shake hands, Prince!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Black as a coal, and curly, too.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is the dog I introduce to you.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gives at once his right-hand paw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None a softer one ever saw.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf034.jpg" width="500" height="387"
+alt="Prince shaking hands with a little boy" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;Beg, Prince!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up he rises on his hind legs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flies both little fore-feet, and begs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not for money, nor food, nor clothes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But merely to show how much he knows.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;Speak, Prince!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You&rsquo;d think from that first growling note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He&rsquo;d a bumble-bee inside his throat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis not a bee, but only a bark;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For answer, shrill and eager, hark!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 288px;">
+<img src="images/oyf035.jpg" width="288" height="350"
+alt="Prince begging" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;Roll over, Prince!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He&rsquo;ll do all other things you ask;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But this is a task, a dreadful task.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hates the dust on his silky hide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the fringe of his ears beside.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;Roll over, I say!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such a struggle as he goes through;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wants to do it, and don&rsquo;t want to!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He rubs one black ear on the floor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rubs a little, and nothing more.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;Ah, Prince! Ah, Prince!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do you call that minding? Yet, I find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yours is a common way to mind:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Willing to do what you like to best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And only half-way doing the rest.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 353px;">
+<img src="images/oyf036.jpg" width="353" height="500"
+alt="The children by the lily pond" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="where_the_pretty_path_led" id="where_the_pretty_path_led"></a>WHERE THE PRETTY PATH LED.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Little Fred went to spend his long vacation with his grandpa
+and grandma in the country. Fred&rsquo;s grandpa had an old white
+horse named Betsy. He had owned her ever since mamma was a
+little girl, and Fred and Betsy soon became great friends.</p>
+
+<p>Every day grandma would give Fred two biscuits, two apples and
+two lumps of sugar in a little basket and he would take them over
+to the pasture. Betsy soon learned to expect him, and waited for
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a></span>
+him at the bars. She knew that half of what was in the basket
+was meant for her.</p>
+
+<p>A very pretty path came in at one end of the pasture. Fred
+often wondered where it went, but he never dared to go in very far
+alone. One day his two cousins, Alice and Frank, came to make
+grandma a little visit. Grandma told Fred he must show them all
+over the farm. The next morning, after he had taken them out to
+lunch with Betsy, he thought it would be a good chance to go down
+the little path. Alice and Frank said they would like to go very
+much. Fred was still a little afraid, and kept very near Alice. But
+he forgot everything else, when, at the end of the path, they came
+upon a lovely little pond. It was all covered with great white lilies
+and their green pads.</p>
+
+<p>They wanted to get some lilies to take home. They tried to reach
+them from the bank, but lilies have a provoking way of growing
+just out of reach. Then they tried to hook them in with sticks, but
+got only three or four, without stems. Then they looked for a
+board to use as a raft.</p>
+
+<p>At last Frank said they must wade for them. He and Fred took
+off their shoes and stockings, pulled up their trousers, and went in.
+Fred used a long stick to feel the way before him, so as not to get
+into water too deep.</p>
+
+<p>This time they were successful, and got just as many lilies as their
+hands would hold.</p>
+
+<p>Grandma was delighted with them; she said she had not had any
+lilies from that old pond since grandpa used to bring them to her
+years and years before.</p>
+
+<p class="author">MRS. F. T. MERRILL.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2 style="padding-bottom: 8em;"><a name="a_letter_to_mother_nature" id="a_letter_to_mother_nature"></a>A LETTER TO MOTHER NATURE.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="dcapy"><span class="dropcap">Y</span></span>OU dear old Mother Nature, I am writing you a letter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To let you know you ought to fix up things a little better.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The best of us will make mistakes&mdash;I thought perhaps if I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should tell you how you might improve, you would be glad to try.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I think you have forgotten, ma&rsquo;am, that little girls and boys<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are fond of dolls, and tops, and sleds, and balls, and other toys;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why didn&rsquo;t you&mdash;I wonder, now!&mdash;just take it in your head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To have such things all growing in a lovely garden bed?<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf037.jpg" width="350" height="317"
+alt="Drinking from a lemonade spring" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And then I should have planted (if it only had been me)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some vines with little pickles, and a great big cooky tree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And trees, besides, with gum-drops and caramels and things;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lemonade should bubble up in all the little springs.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I&rsquo;d like to have the coasting and the skating in July,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When old Jack Frost would never get a single chance to try<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To nip our cheeks and noses; and the Christmas trees should stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By dozens, loaded!&mdash;in the woods!&mdash;now, wouldn&rsquo;t that be grand?<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf038.jpg" width="350" height="192"
+alt="Picking unusual plants" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Ah! what a world it would have been! How could you, madam, make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such lots of bread and butter to so very little cake?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;d have it just the other way, and every one would see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How very, very, very, very nice my way would be.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;But, as I cannot do it, will you think of what I say?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And please, ma&rsquo;am, <em>do</em> begin and alter things this very day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And one thing more&mdash;on Saturdays don&rsquo;t send us any rain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Good-by. If I should think of something else, I&rsquo;ll write again.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">SYDNEY DAYRE.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf039.jpg" width="300" height="151"
+alt="A boy playing a pipe to a dog" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/oyf040.jpg" width="400" height="377"
+alt="A boy and a girl" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="our_may_day_at_the_south" id="our_may_day_at_the_south"></a>OUR MAY-DAY AT THE SOUTH.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Out in the woods we went to-day:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mamma and Nannie, Freddie and May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Charlie and I, and good old Tray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out in the greenwood to romp and play.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-day, you know, is the first of May;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we meant to be so jolly and gay:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And celebrate in so merry a way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That we could never forget this holiday.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So first we chose the loveliest queen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dearest and sweetest that ever was seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For mamma herself was Her Highness Serene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we crowned her with rosebuds and evergreen.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then we kneeled around and vowed to obey<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the laws she made, not only to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all the year through. Then she waved a spray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of lilac bloom, and bade us all be gay.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh the games we played, and the races we run!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bars we leaped, and the prizes we won!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh the shouting, the singing, the laughter and fun,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It were hard to tell who was the happiest one!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then, rosy and tired, we gathered around<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our beautiful queen on the mossy ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hungriest group in the land, I&rsquo;ll be bound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the sandwiches, cookies, and tarts went round.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf041.jpg" width="500" height="361"
+alt="Enjoying games and a picnic" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the sun was low and shadows were gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down from her throne stepped our fair Queen of May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And through the green fields led homeward our way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While we gave her sweet thanks for this beautiful day.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">L. A. B. C.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf042.jpg" width="500" height="189"
+alt="Ships near a light-house" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="berties_story_and_mine" id="berties_story_and_mine"></a>BERTIE&rsquo;S STORY AND MINE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Tell me a story about a bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A great big bear who lived in a wood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ate little children.&rdquo; &ldquo;O, my dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The bears I know of were playful and good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lived in houses or parks or a pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never ate children, or boys, or men.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;There was one snow white, a mother bear,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With two little babies cunning and queer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who rolled and climbed and stood on their heads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And fell over, as boys often do, I fear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They hugged their mother, and talked in their way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And kept still when they&rsquo;d nothing to do or say.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;No, I mean a real bear out in the woods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who growls and chases you, makes you run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Half scared to death,&mdash;and a little boy lost<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Out in the woods and the night coming on;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the terrible bear with his great fierce eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And no one to hear the little child&rsquo;s cries!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;He runs and runs,&rdquo;&mdash;and then Bertie smiles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His climax reached,&mdash;&ldquo;I was only in fun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bear didn&rsquo;t kill him, because, you see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There was just behind a man with a gun,<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">And he shot! Bang! Down came the old bear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Twas his own little boy and he saved him&mdash;there!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 482px;">
+<img src="images/oyf043.jpg" width="482" height="500"
+alt="Bertie and the bear" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;O, I am so glad!&rdquo; and I give him a kiss;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then silent we sit for a moment or two.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a boy&rsquo;s story; yours, you know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For nice little girls very well will do.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But boys, you remember, grow up to be men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And can fight the bears to their very den.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">AMANDA M. DOUGLAS.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="the_porcupines_quills" id="the_porcupines_quills"></a>THE PORCUPINE&rsquo;S QUILLS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Every animal has an instrument of defence. Some have claws,
+some hoofs, some spurs and beaks, some powerful teeth and stings.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf044.jpg" width="500" height="412"
+alt="A porcupine fends off a dog" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The porcupine
+has something
+queerer than all
+these. Its body
+is covered all over
+with two sets of
+quills. One set
+is long, slender,
+and
+curved; the other, short and straight, very stout, and with sharp
+points.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever the porcupine is chased by any animal, and finds he cannot
+get out of the way, he just stops and bristles up all his quills.
+Then he backs quickly upon the animal, so that the short, sharp quills
+may stick into the body. If any happen to be a little loose, they stick
+so fast in the flesh, like an arrow, that they often make a very bad
+wound. Remember this whenever you come in the way of the porcupine.</p>
+
+<p class="author">MRS. G. HALL.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="love_your_enemies" id="love_your_enemies"></a>LOVE YOUR ENEMIES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>I was watching Willie and Grouse at play on the lawn
+a few days since. I saw in the poor dumb brute a spirit
+that is too seldom found in man.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf045.jpg" width="500" height="377"
+alt="Willie pours water over Grouse" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Grouse is an old bird-dog,&mdash;a setter. He was bought
+before Willie came to be his little master. He has soft,
+brown hair, and is a very clever, good-natured dog. Willie
+can do anything with him, and he never gets angry; but
+when Willie hurts him he only looks up and pleads with his
+large, misty eyes.</p>
+
+<p>They had been playing a long while. Grouse got tired and
+lay down on the grass. Pretty soon I saw Willie get some
+water in a basin. I wondered what he was going to do with
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a></span>
+it. Then he walked close up to Grouse, who lay on the
+lawn, and threw the water all over him.</p>
+
+<p>It was very unkind for Willie to do so, don&rsquo;t you think
+it was? I called Willie to me, and told him it was too bad
+for him to plague such a good old dog. I told him he was
+a very naughty boy to do so.</p>
+
+<p>Willie said he supposed it was wrong to plague Grouse,
+but he didn&rsquo;t mean to hurt him much.</p>
+
+<p>So Willie went back to where Grouse lay in the sun drying
+himself. He patted the poor dog on the head, and asked
+him if he would forgive him for his unkindness.</p>
+
+<p>Then Grouse, as if he knew what was said, licked Willie&rsquo;s
+hand. He looked up forgivingly into his face with his dewy
+eyes, as much as to say, &ldquo;I am one who can love his
+enemies.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="author">FRANK. H. SELDEN.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="the_merciful_prince" id="the_merciful_prince"></a>THE MERCIFUL PRINCE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>More than two thousand years ago, in a far-off country, a prince
+was born. While he was yet a child every care was taken that he
+should be made happy, and sights of sorrow were carefully kept
+from him. He was of a very kind, loving, and tender disposition.</p>
+
+<p>But the care even of a king for a prince could not keep away
+all sorrowful sights. His watchful eyes sometimes saw suffering
+that filled his heart with pity.</p>
+
+<p>As he was playing with his cousin in the palace ground, a flock
+of wild swans flew over their heads. His cousin drew his bow and
+wounded one. It fell at his feet. The prince with pity drew the
+arrow from the wounded bird, nursed it, and saved its life.</p>
+
+<p>While his child life was one of tenderness and mercy, the years
+passed by and he became a man. His heart was still filled with pity
+for every suffering creature. He went from the palace, from home
+and dear friends, to become poor and a wanderer, that he might
+help the suffering. It is beautifully told that in his wanderings
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a></span>
+he came upon a flock of sheep driven along the dusty highway.
+There was one poor wounded, bleeding lamb, which he took tenderly
+in his arms and carried. And so through life his pity and his
+help were given to the weak, whether men or beasts. From his
+tender and beautiful life, men came to worship him after his death.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 384px;">
+<img src="images/oyf046.jpg" width="384" height="500"
+alt="The prince helps a wounded swan" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The prince was Prince Gautama, of India, who is worshipped as
+Buddha. Is not his loving and merciful life, from a little child to
+an old man, a beautiful example to us?</p>
+
+<p class="author">CHARLES T. JEROME</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="the_opossum_in_the_hen_house" id="the_opossum_in_the_hen_house"></a>THE OPOSSUM IN THE HEN-HOUSE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;O George, the circus is coming! the handbills are all up, and
+such pictures of horses and lions and tigers, and everything!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Ned jumped about for joy, until George said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But how are you going, Ned? We have no money, and papa
+said he could not give us any more this month, if he gave us a
+gun.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The new gun,&mdash;so he did,&rdquo; said Ned, sadly. &ldquo;But the circus
+takes so little; they would let us in at half price.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will tell you,&rdquo; exclaimed George; &ldquo;let us sell our white Leghorns
+to mamma. She wants them, I know, and the money we get
+for them will take us both to the circus.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was settled, and at dinner mamma was told of the plan.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Put them up in the hen-house to-night,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and to-morrow
+I will look at them and we will fix the price.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boys went to bed early that night, but had hardly settled
+themselves to sleep when Melissa, the little servant-girl, rushed in
+with a light in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;O, git up, boys, git up! Sompen&rsquo;s in de hen-house, killin&rsquo; all
+de fowls.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They jumped up and huddled on their clothes as fast as they
+could, then ran after Melissa, who held the light while they armed
+themselves with sticks.</p>
+
+<p>There was a great stir, sure enough, in the hen-house,&mdash;fowls were
+cackling and screaming with fright, and a curious snapping sound
+came from one corner. When the light fell here they saw a rough,
+hairy little animal, with small bright eyes like a pig, and a long
+smooth tail. But, worst of all, one of the beautiful white Leghorns
+lay before it, all mangled and bleeding. The horrid creature was
+tearing its soft body, and would hardly stop eating when the children
+attacked him.</p>
+
+<p>At last Melissa caught up a stick, and killed the little beast with
+a quick blow. She held it up in triumph by its long tail. It looked
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a></span>
+very much like a little pig, and had five fingers, like toes, on each
+foot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis a &rsquo;possum,&rdquo; said Melissa, &ldquo;and very good to eat. I&rsquo;s right
+glad <em>I</em> kill it, cos now &rsquo;tis mine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 420px;">
+<img src="images/oyf047.jpg" width="420" height="500"
+alt="Melissa and the boys with the dead opossum" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are welcome to it,&rdquo; said Ned, half crying. &ldquo;What shall we
+do now our pretty Leghorn rooster is dead? We can&rsquo;t go to the
+circus.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Next morning they told their tale at the breakfast-table.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; said their father; &ldquo;I think you may go, after all,
+as I owe you something for killing the opossum. He would have
+destroyed the rest of the fowls.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Yes; but, papa, Melissa killed it; we only struck at it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I think I must treat the whole party, as all did their best.
+We will set a trap to-day for the next opossum that may come to
+see us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boys and Melissa went to the circus, and enjoyed all they
+saw, and Melissa had a fine opossum stew into the bargain.</p>
+
+<p class="author">PINK HUNTER.</p>
+
+<p class="place">Virginia.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="how_roy_went_a_fishing" id="how_roy_went_a_fishing"></a>HOW ROY WENT A FISHING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Roy had fished in the ditch by the side of the road a great many
+times; but he had only a bent pin for a fish-hook, and a piece of
+twine for a line. He never caught any fish there.</p>
+
+<p>When he was six years old his uncle James gave him a real
+fish-hook and a line, and after a good deal of coaxing his mother
+said that he might go down the cow-path to the brook and fish for
+trout.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle James caught a great many trout in the brook.</p>
+
+<p>Alice wanted to go with Roy; and Roy, who is very kind to his
+sister, asked his mother to let her go.</p>
+
+<p>Alice carried the basket,&mdash;a pretty large one. Mary, the cook,
+told them to be sure and get it full of fish, so that she could fry
+them for dinner.</p>
+
+<p>How proud and happy they were! Their mother could see them
+from the window all the time.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached the brook Alice sat down on a rock. Roy
+put a worm on the hook, and dropped the end of the line into the
+stream. But it was a long time before he got a bite. At last he
+thought he felt a nibble.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got one, Ally!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;O, such a big fellow! You
+will have to come and help me pull him out!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a></span>
+They tugged away on
+the line, and then they
+both fell over backwards.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 307px;">
+<img src="images/oyf048.jpg" width="307" height="400"
+alt="Roy catches something unexpected and upsets Alice" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There he is!&rdquo; cried
+Roy. But when they got
+up and looked, it was not
+a trout at all. It was
+only a piece of a black
+root that broke off and
+gave them a tumble.</p>
+
+<p>Roy tried again, and
+after a good while he felt
+another nibble. He jerked
+the line out so quickly
+that the hook caught in
+the back of Alice&rsquo;s dress.
+It pricked her shoulder so
+that she had half a mind
+to cry.</p>
+
+<p>Roy could not get the hook out of her dress, and they went home
+for their mother to help them.</p>
+
+<p>Mary laughed at Roy a good deal. She told his uncle James, at
+dinner-time, that Roy caught the biggest trout she ever saw, and he
+had to come home for his mother to get it off the hook.</p>
+
+<p class="author">L. A. B. C.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf049.jpg" width="300" height="124"
+alt="Portrait of a child, surrounded by flowers" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="a_bear_story" id="a_bear_story"></a>A BEAR-STORY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I know a new bear-story,&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I said to the little folks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who surely as the twilight falls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Begin to tease and coax.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/oyf050.jpg" width="450" height="500"
+alt="A bear at the zoo" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And did they live in the forest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In a den all deep and dark?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And were there three?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Yes, three,&rdquo; I said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;But they lived in the park.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s see! Old Jack, the grizzly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With great white claws, was there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a mother bear with thick brown coat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Betty, the little bear!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And Silver-Locks went strolling<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">One day, in that pretty wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Ninny, the nurse, and all at once<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They came where the bears&rsquo; house stood.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And without so much as knocking<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To see who was at home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She cried out in a happy voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&lsquo;Old Grizzly, here I come!&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And thereupon old Grizzly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Began to gaze about;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the mother bear sniffed at the bars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the baby bear peeped out.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And they thought she must be a fairy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though, instead of a golden wand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She carried a five-cent paper bag<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of peanuts in her hand.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Old Grizzly his red mouth opened<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As though they tasted good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the brown bear opened her red mouth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To catch one when she could;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And Betty, the greedy baby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Followed the big bears&rsquo; style,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And held her little fire-red mouth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wide open all the while.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And Silver-Locks laughed delighted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And thought it wondrous fun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fed them peanuts from the bag<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Till she hadn&rsquo;t another one.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And is that all?&rdquo; sighed Gold-Locks.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Pshaw, is that all?&rdquo; cried Ted.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;No&mdash;one thing more! &rsquo;Tis quite, quite time<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That little folks were in bed!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">CLARA DOTY BATES.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 446px;">
+<a name="hear_us_sing_see_us_swing" id="hear_us_sing_see_us_swing"></a>
+<img src="images/oyf051.jpg" width="446" height="550"
+alt="Decorative title - Hear Us Sing, See Us Swing, Up in the Old Oak Tree"
+title="Hear Us Sing, See Us Swing, Up in the Old Oak Tree" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">O&mdash;oh! O&mdash;oh!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Here we go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now so high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now so low;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Soon, soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We&rsquo;ll reach the moon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hear us sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">See us swing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in the old oak-tree.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">O&mdash;oh! O&mdash;oh!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To and fro,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like the birds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">High and low;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">See us fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To the sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hear us sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On the wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in the old oak-tree.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">L. A. B. C.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf052.jpg" width="500" height="149"
+alt="Two boats near the shore" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="sailor_babies" id="sailor_babies"></a>SAILOR BABIES.</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 359px;">
+<img src="images/oyf053.jpg" width="359" height="500"
+alt="A pair of birds" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Birds, and birds, and birds! Have you any idea how many kinds
+of birds there are? I am very sorry you could not count them all.
+And such queer fellows many of them are! There are butcher-birds
+and tailor-birds, soldier-birds&mdash;the penguins, you
+know, who stand on the sea-shore like companies of
+soldiers, &ldquo;heads up, eyes front,
+arms (meaning wings) at the sides&rdquo;&mdash;and
+sailor-birds. It is about
+one of the sailor-birds and his
+babies that I am going to tell
+you now. She is called the Little
+Grebe, or sometimes, by her intimate
+friends, the Dabchick. She
+is a pretty little bird, about
+nine inches long, with brown
+head and back, and grayish-white
+breast. She and
+her husband are both
+extremely fond of the
+water. &ldquo;We are first
+cousins to the Divers!&rdquo; they
+sometimes say proudly. &ldquo;The
+Divers are never happy away from the water,
+and neither are we. It is very vulgar to live on
+land all the time. One might almost as well have four
+legs, and be a creature at once!&rdquo; (The Divers are a very proud
+family, and speak of all quadrupeds as &ldquo;creatures.&rdquo;) Mr. and Mrs.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a></span>
+Grebe have very curiously webbed feet, looking more like a horse-chestnut
+leaf with three lobes than anything else. They are excellent
+swimmers and divers; indeed, in diving, the Great Northern Diver
+himself is not so quick and alert. If anything
+frightens them, pop! they are under the water in
+the shaking of a feather; and you may sometimes
+see them in a pond, popping up and down
+like little absurd Jacks-in-the-box. As they
+think the land so very vulgar, of course
+they do not want
+to bring up their
+children on it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 349px;">
+<img src="images/oyf054.jpg" width="349" height="400"
+alt="Birds on the river" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Oh, dear, no!
+They find a pleasant, quiet
+stream, or pond, where
+there are plenty of reeds
+and rushes growing in the
+water, and where there is
+no danger of their being
+disturbed by &ldquo;creatures.&rdquo;
+Then they go to
+work and make a raft, a
+regular raft, of strong
+stems of water-plants,
+reeds, and arrow-heads,
+plaited and woven
+together with great care and skill. It is light enough to float,
+and yet strong enough to bear the weight of the mother-bird.</p>
+
+<p>While she is building it she sits, or stands, on another and
+more roughly built raft, which is not meant to hold together long.
+Mr. Grebe helps her, pulling up the water-plants and cutting off the
+stems the right length; and so this little couple work away till the
+raft-nest is quite ready. Then Mrs. Grebe takes her place on it, and
+proceeds to lay and hatch her eggs. There are five or six eggs, and
+they are white when she lays them; but they do not keep their
+whiteness long, for the water-weeds and the leaves that cover the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a></span>
+raft soon decay, and stain the pretty white eggs, so that they are
+muddy brown by the time they are hatched. Well, there little
+Madame Grebe sits, brooding contentedly over her eggs, and thinking
+how carefully she will bring up her children, so that they will be
+a credit to the family of the Divers. Mr. Grebe paddles, and dives
+and pops up and down about the nest, and brings her all sorts of
+good things to eat,&mdash;worms for dinner, minnows for supper, and for
+breakfast the most delicate and appetizing of flies and beetles. One
+day, when he brings his wife&rsquo;s dinner (a fine stickle-back), he finds
+her in a state of great excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; she says, &ldquo;I am going to move. I cannot endure this
+place another hour. I only waited to tell you about it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, what is the matter, my love?&rdquo; asks Mr. Grebe, in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Some creatures have been here,&rdquo; answers little madam, indignantly,&mdash;&ldquo;huge,
+ugly monsters, with horns; cows, I believe they
+are called. They have torn up the reeds, and muddied the water;
+and, if you will believe it, Dabchick, one of them nearly walked right
+over me; then I flew in his face, and gave him a good fright, I can tell
+you. But the whole thing has upset me very much, and I am determined
+to leave the place.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well, my love,&rdquo; says the dutiful Dabchick. &ldquo;Whatever you
+say is always right!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, when she has finished her dinner, Mrs. Grebe puts
+one foot into the water, and paddles her raft away as skilfully as if
+she were an Indian in a birch canoe. She steers it round the corners,
+and paddles on and on, till she finds another quiet nook, where there
+is no sign of any &ldquo;creatures.&rdquo; Then she draws in her paddle-foot,
+and broods quietly again, while Mr. Grebe, who has followed her,
+goes to explore the new surroundings, and see what he can pick up
+for supper.</p>
+
+<p>After a time the muddy brown eggs crack open one by one, and out
+come the young Dabchicks, pretty, little, fuzzy brown balls. They
+shake themselves, and look at each other, and say how-d&rsquo;-ye-do to
+their mother and father; and then, without any more delay, pop!
+they go into the water. &ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; says one. &ldquo;I can swim!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="pretty_polly_primrose" id="pretty_polly_primrose"></a>PRETTY POLLY PRIMROSE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Out here papa finds her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lifts her tenderly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Carries her safe home again,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Never once wakes she.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf055.jpg" width="500" height="313"
+alt="Polly asleep under a tree" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the breakfast all is o&rsquo;er<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Polly opes her eyes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&ldquo;Surely, mamma, I did dream,&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Says she in surprise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;That I went out to the Park,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Where the birdies sing.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Mamma smiles; how can she chide<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">The winsome little thing!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">AMANDA M. DOUGLAS.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/oyf056.jpg" width="200" height="138"
+alt="A pair of birds" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="look_at_the_baby" id="look_at_the_baby"></a>LOOK AT THE BABY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This way and that way, one, two, three.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come if you want a dance to see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his chubby hands on his dress so blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See what a baby boy can do.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One foot up and one foot down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See him try to smile and frown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He would look better, I do declare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With some more teeth and a little more hair.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One, two, three, chick-a-dee-dee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This I take the fact to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That there never was, on sea nor shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such a queer little dance as this before!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="an_unlucky_sail" id="an_unlucky_sail"></a>AN UNLUCKY SAIL.</h2>
+
+
+<p>When little Sam was six years old, he began to go to school.
+His teacher gave him a merit card whenever he was good all day.
+But sometimes he whispered, or made a noise in school, and then
+he did not get one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will give you a penny whenever you bring home a card,&rdquo; said
+Sam&rsquo;s father.</p>
+
+<p>After that Sam was very good, and brought home a card almost
+every day. He saved up his pennies, and when he was seven
+years old, he bought a pretty toy boat.</p>
+
+<p>Sam&rsquo;s sister Hattie went with him to the duck-pond to see him
+sail the boat. But soon she grew tired, and went back to the house.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish I had something to put into my boat,&rdquo; thought Sam.</p>
+
+<p>He looked around and saw Hattie&rsquo;s doll under a tree. Hattie had
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a></span>
+forgotten it when she went to the house. It was a pretty wax doll,
+with long flaxen hair, and blue eyes that would open and shut. It
+was dressed in pink silk, and had a little straw hat with a pink
+feather.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 442px;">
+<img src="images/oyf057.jpg" width="442" height="500"
+alt="Sam and his sailing boat, and what happened to Miss Dolly" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will give Miss Dolly a sail,&rdquo; thought Sam.</p>
+
+<p>He put the doll in the boat, and pushed it out on the water.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hattie, Hattie!&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;come and see your doll taking a
+sail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a></span>
+Just as he spoke an old duck swam against the boat, and gave it
+such a push that Miss Dolly fell off into the water. Before Sam
+could reach her with a long stick she sank to the bottom of the
+pond.</p>
+
+<p>Hattie cried until she had no tears left to shed, and Sam felt like
+crying, too. He knew he ought not to have taken his sister&rsquo;s doll.</p>
+
+<p>He went on saving his pennies just as he had done before he
+bought the boat. And when he opened his tin bank on his next
+birthday he found that he had nearly three dollars. What do you
+think he bought? I am afraid you would never guess, so I will
+tell you. He bought a new doll for Hattie, and it was even prettier
+than the one he had drowned in the duck-pond.</p>
+
+<p class="author">FLORENCE B. HALLOWELL.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 393px;">
+<img src="images/oyf058.jpg" width="393" height="500"
+alt="Hattie and Sam after the sinking" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="to_strawberry_town" id="to_strawberry_town"></a>TO STRAWBERRY TOWN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A dear little maid, with sun-bonnet red<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tied carefully over her little brown head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With two little bare feet, so active and brown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has started to travel to Strawberry town.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And pray where is that?&rdquo; Oh dear! don&rsquo;t you know?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It&rsquo;s out in the field where the strawberries grow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where papa, and Henry, and Sue, in the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pick the sweet, big, red berries so fast, one by one.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 471px;">
+<img src="images/oyf059.jpg" width="471" height="500"
+alt="The maid and her kittens" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a very great ways,&rdquo; says the dear little maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;To Strawberry town, and I&rsquo;m so afraid.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so as companions, to keep her from harm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She takes two fat kittens, one under each arm.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">She trudges along with brown eyes opened wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The kittens hugged sociably up to each side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With ears sticking up and tails hanging down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She carries them bravely to Strawberry town.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">MARY A. ALLEN, M.D.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/oyf060.jpg" width="400" height="316"
+alt="Flossie and her shoe-boat" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="flossie_and_her_shoe_boat" id="flossie_and_her_shoe_boat"></a>FLOSSIE AND HER SHOE-BOAT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Flossie took to the sea very early. She did not like to be
+bathed, but she was very fond of playing in the water.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when she was at her bath, her mother&rsquo;s back was
+turned, and little Miss Flossie turned her slipper into a boat and
+set it afloat in her little bath-tub. Then she pushed it about and
+made believe it was sailing. By and by it got full of water and
+sank, crew and all. This made her cry, and that made her mother
+look round. Flossie&rsquo;s shoe-boat was taken from her, and then she
+cried more. Her mother knew best, and was very firm. Miss
+Flossie had to give up being a sailor, and put on her pink dress
+and go downstairs.</p>
+
+<p class="author">R. W. L.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="nellies_lunch" id="nellies_lunch"></a>NELLIE&rsquo;S LUNCH.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Little Nellie lived in California. Her papa was going on a visit
+to his old home in Maine, but Nellie was to stay at home with her
+mamma. Just before her father left, her mother took his great-coat,
+brushed it, and said, &ldquo;I have put some handkerchiefs in this pocket,
+and in the other one is a nice lunch of cake and fruit.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The father and mother were so busy that they took no notice of
+Nellie. But she had
+heard what mamma
+said. Her first
+thought was that she
+must put something
+in papa&rsquo;s pocket, too.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 385px;">
+<img src="images/oyf061.jpg" width="385" height="450"
+alt="Nellie makes lunch for her father" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Her mother had
+been changing Nellie&rsquo;s
+clothes, and a
+soiled little stocking
+lay on the floor. The
+child had a small
+cake of maple sugar
+in her hand that
+she was eating. She
+took up the stocking
+and crammed the sugar down into the toe.
+She then rolled it up tight and tucked it down
+in one corner of her papa&rsquo;s pocket. No one
+saw her do it. The first that was known of
+what she had done was one day after her papa
+had reached his old home. He was searching his pocket for something
+when he felt the little stocking. He took it out, and when
+he saw what it was, what a good laugh he had! And how it made
+him think of his little Nellie, who was so far away!</p>
+
+<p>Nellie&rsquo;s papa showed me the little stocking and the cake of sugar.
+He said he would save them until Nellie was older, and she could then
+see what a nice lunch she had put up for her papa.</p>
+
+<p class="author">NELLIE BURNS.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 361px;">
+<img src="images/oyf062.jpg" width="361" height="450"
+alt="A portrait of Dime" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="dime_and_the_baby" id="dime_and_the_baby"></a>DIME AND THE BABY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Bow-wow! Here I am again! I told you before that my name
+is Dime; but the baby calls me &ldquo;Bow-wow.&rdquo; Do you know why?
+It is because I always say &ldquo;Bow-wow.&rdquo; It is all the word I know
+how to say.</p>
+
+<p>Do you know our baby? She has big black eyes, and her mouth
+looks like a pink rosebud. She is a sweet little girl. I love her
+dearly. I did not like her when she first came. That was a long
+time ago. My master was very fond of her. That made me feel
+cross. I used to bark at baby and show all my teeth. After that
+they did not let me come near her. I did not see the baby for a long
+time. I did not care for that.</p>
+
+<p>My master did not seem to like me then. When he saw me, he
+said, &ldquo;Go away, Dime! Go away, bad dog! You are not good to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a></span>
+the baby.&rdquo; So I was not happy. I made up my mind to bite that
+baby.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long time before I got a chance to bite her; but one day
+I found her alone. She was in her little crib. I put my paws on
+her crib.</p>
+
+<p>But I did not bite her, after all. Shall I tell you why? She
+was too pretty to bite. So I kissed the baby, and I have loved her
+ever since.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 398px;">
+<img src="images/oyf063.jpg" width="398" height="400"
+alt="Dime looks at the sleeping baby" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Now, my master likes me again. He pats my head and says,
+&ldquo;Good old dog! Good Dime! You love the baby, don&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I am glad I am not a cross dog now. I feel better when I am
+good. Don&rsquo;t you?</p>
+
+<p class="author">S. E. SPRAGUE.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="wide_awake_land" id="wide_awake_land"></a>WIDE-AWAKE LAND.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come, Freddie, time you were in bed long ago,&rdquo; said mamma.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t want to go!&rdquo; cried Fred. &ldquo;I wish I never had to go to
+bed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But in a few moments Fred was snugly tucked away. Everything
+grew dim, and Fred&rsquo;s eyes began to close. Very soon he heard a
+little voice from somewhere, and started up.</p>
+
+<p>Perched on his knee was the queerest little man he had ever seen.
+In one hand he held a long pin,
+and this he often thrust at Fred.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you doing that for?&rdquo;
+asked Fred. &ldquo;To keep you
+awake,&rdquo; said the little dwarf.
+&ldquo;You are in Wide-Awake Land,
+and no one goes to sleep here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf064.jpg" width="500" height="404"
+alt="Freddie is wide awake" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Fred sat up in bed and looked
+about. Was it really Wide-Awake
+Land? Needn&rsquo;t he ever go to bed
+again? &ldquo;O, I am glad!&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>There were many other boys and girls in this queer land, and
+most of them looked very unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is the matter?&rdquo; asked Fred of a little boy who was crying
+hard.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a></span>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m tired and sleepy,&rdquo; sobbed the boy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you go to sleep then?&rdquo; asked Fred.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Humph! I guess you haven&rsquo;t been here long, or you&rsquo;d know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, I&rsquo;ve just come; I think it&rsquo;s nice.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait till you get sleepy,&rdquo; said the boy. &ldquo;I used to think Wide-Awake
+Land would be nice. I believe Sleepy Land would be nicer
+now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf065.jpg" width="500" height="406"
+alt="Freddie and the other little boys" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; added Fred; &ldquo;but why can&rsquo;t you go to sleep?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because the little men that you see everywhere carry pins.
+They prick us when we try to sleep. O, I wish I hadn&rsquo;t come!&rdquo;
+And the boy began to cry again. Fred thought he was very silly,
+and ran off to find some other new-comer.</p>
+
+<p>Night came at last. Big lamps were hung on the trees and made
+the place as light as day. The little men were flying about to keep
+the sleepy ones awake.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a></span>
+Fred got sleepy at last, and began to nod. A little man thrust
+a big pin into him. &ldquo;You must keep awake,&rdquo; he said. Fred tried
+hard, but his eyes would shut, and then would come the wicked pin.
+At last he screamed aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Fred! what is the trouble?&rdquo; and he looked up. There
+was mamma.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t like Wide-Awake Land,&rdquo; cried Fred. &ldquo;I will go to
+sleep when you want me to after this.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think you are dreaming, Fred,&rdquo; replied mamma.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was, but I am awake now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, dear, you are in Sleepy Land now. So good night, and
+pleasant dreams.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="author">ELIZA M. SHERMAN.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf066.jpg" width="300" height="295"
+alt="A little girl wearing a hat" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="lulus_first_thanksgiving" id="lulus_first_thanksgiving"></a>LULU&rsquo;S FIRST THANKSGIVING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Lulu was six years old last spring. She came to make a visit
+at her grandfather&rsquo;s, and stayed until after Thanksgiving.</p>
+
+<p>Lulu had lived away down in Cuba ever since she was a year old.
+Her cousins had written to her what a good time they had on
+Thanksgiving Day; so she was very anxious to be at her grandfather&rsquo;s
+at that time. They do not have a Thanksgiving Day down
+in Cuba. That is how Lulu did not have one until she was six
+years old.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf067.jpg" width="500" height="447"
+alt="The family at table waiting for the turkey to be carved" />
+</div>
+
+<p>She could hardly wait for the day to come. Such a grand time as
+they did have! Lulu did not know she had so many cousins until
+they came to spend the day at her grandfather&rsquo;s. It did not take
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a></span>
+them long to get acquainted. Before time for dinner they felt as if
+they had always known each other.</p>
+
+<p>The dinner was the grand event of the
+day. Lulu had never seen so long a
+table except at a hotel, nor some
+of the vegetables and kinds of
+pie.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 459px;">
+<img src="images/oyf068.jpg" width="459" height="600"
+alt="Playing blind-man&#39;s-buff" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Lulu had never tasted
+turkey before. Her
+grandmother would
+not have one cooked until
+then, so she could say that
+she had eaten her first piece
+of turkey on Thanksgiving
+Day.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner they played
+all kinds of games. All the uncles and aunts and grown-up cousins
+played blind-man&rsquo;s-buff with them.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="the_sun_kiss" id="the_sun_kiss"></a>THE SUN-KISS.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In a land where summer lingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Far from Northern rains and snows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, like loving, clasping fingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Twines the jasmine with the rose,<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 368px;">
+<img src="images/oyf069.jpg" width="368" height="450"
+alt="A little girl with a bunch of flowers" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There I found a little maiden:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh! her eyes were black as night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her tiny hands were laden<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Down with blossoms pearly white.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">Sought she all along the wayside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&rsquo;Mong the ferns and waving palms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the tiniest flower might hide<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From her sweet protecting arms.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;What fresh treasure are you seeking?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Asked I of the little one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a myriad blooms were peeping<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through the mosses to the sun.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Have you never heard, dear lady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the sweetest flower that blooms,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is neither proud nor stately,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like the lily and the rose;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;But it brightens every pathway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Springing &rsquo;neath your careless tread.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the sun, with quickening ray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Kisses soft its drooping head.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Then its petals quick unclosing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Freshly sweet with morning dew,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is left for our supposing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That the story must be true,&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;How it shyly waits the coming<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the glorious King of Day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that hence the pretty naming<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of a Sun-Kiss, so they say?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">ELIZABETH A. DAVIS.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Small purple flower; grows by the wayside in the South.</p></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf070.jpg" width="350" height="78"
+alt="A dragonfly and leaves" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf071.jpg" width="500" height="152"
+alt="Two calves" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="the_country_week" id="the_country_week"></a>THE COUNTRY WEEK.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown read a little article in the newspaper one evening,
+about &ldquo;Country week for poor children.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Husband,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I have an idea. We have such a good
+farm, and so many nice things, suppose we take some boarders this
+summer, who can&rsquo;t afford to pay anything.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When she told him what she meant, Mr. Brown thought it a very
+good idea, indeed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The currants and raspberries are ripe. I&rsquo;ll see if Mrs. Anderson
+knows of some nice children, who will have to stay in the hot streets
+of the city all summer. We will ask them to come here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Of course, Mrs. Anderson knew of some nice children. She belonged
+to a mission-school, and knew dozens of them. So, the next
+Wednesday, when Mr. Brown drove down to the station, there she
+was, and two little ones with her, Lina and Carl Schmidt. Carl was
+almost a baby, and went to sleep as soon as they were in the carriage;
+but Lina held her breath with delight as she rode to the farm.
+She was half afraid, too, and held on very tightly if old Billy went
+faster than a walk. As Mr. Brown watched the bright little face he
+began to think his wife&rsquo;s idea was a splendid one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, little one,&rdquo; said Mrs. Brown to Lina, when they reached
+the house, &ldquo;what do you think of the country?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Oh, I do want to take such long breaths!&rdquo; said Lina, &ldquo;I wish my
+mamma could see it too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The first thing for these small folks,&rdquo; added Mrs. Brown, &ldquo;is
+some of Brindle&rsquo;s nice milk.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf072.jpg" width="500" height="411"
+alt="The family watch the cow being milked" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Carl waked up long enough to drink some, and say, &ldquo;Dood, dood.&rdquo;
+Then he grew sleepy again, and Mrs. Brown laid him on a shawl
+upon the grass, under the trees. The hens gathered around him,
+looked at each other and clucked, as much as to say, &ldquo;What kind of a
+queer creature is this?&rdquo; Young Mr. Bantie was about to peck him to
+find out, when they heard a little voice calling &ldquo;Biddy, Biddy,
+Biddy!&rdquo; from the barn. Off they went, half flying and half running.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a></span>
+Mrs. Brown had given Lina a tin pail, with corn in it to scatter to
+the hens. They came from all directions, and got around her so
+closely that she was afraid to stir. She had taken out one handful
+of the corn, but was afraid to throw it. Then the greedy hens began
+to peck her hand, and try to get it out of the pail. She began to cry
+so loud that every one ran out of the house to see what was the
+matter. It was funny enough to see her, standing in the middle of
+that greedy crowd of hens, with her eyes shut very tightly, and her
+mouth very wide open.</p>
+
+<p>When Carl waked up, he wanted some more milk. Mrs. Brown said,
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll go down and see Brindle milked, and you shall have it nice and
+warm.&rdquo; Lina had seen pictures of cows, but never a live one. She had
+no idea they were so big. Mrs. Brown asked her if she would like to
+milk; but she thought she would rather stand at a little distance.
+As for Carl, he shut up his eyes, and tried to get out of sight of the
+creature. However, he liked the warm milk very much.</p>
+
+<p>Lina spent most of the next day in the garden. She helped pick the
+peas and beans, and stem the currants. She went with Mr. Brown to
+find the eggs, and held Billy&rsquo;s halter while he drank at the trough.
+Every day was full of pleasure, and Mr. and Mrs. Brown had just as
+good a time as the children. At the end of the week they couldn&rsquo;t
+bear to let them go; so it came about that the children&rsquo;s week, for
+Lina and Carl, lasted all summer.</p>
+
+<p class="author">J. A. M.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf073.jpg" width="350" height="151"
+alt="A sprig of berries" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="the_road_to_school" id="the_road_to_school"></a>THE ROAD TO SCHOOL.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">[FROM THE GERMAN.]</p>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table class="school" summary="Verses 1 to 3">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In winter, when it freezes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In winter, when it snows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The road to school seems long and drear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O&rsquo;er which the school-boy goes.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br />
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when the pleasant summer comes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With birds and fruit and flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The road to school, how short it is!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And short the sunny hours!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But to the boy who loves to learn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And wisdom strives to gain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The road to school is always short,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In sunshine, snow, or rain.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">L. A. B. C.</p>
+</div>
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="what_sammys_monkey_did" id="what_sammys_monkey_did"></a>WHAT SAMMY&rsquo;S MONKEY DID.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Sammy Brown had a monkey. He bought
+him of an organ-player. He named him Billy.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf075.jpg" width="300" height="278"
+alt="Sammy and Billy" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Sammy&rsquo;s mother did not know what a naughty
+monkey he was. If she had, she would not
+have given Sammy the money to buy him.</p>
+
+<p>Sammy thought he was very cunning. All
+the boys at school thought so too. They all
+wanted one just like him. Sammy had him out
+every Saturday afternoon.
+He was dressed in a gay
+little uniform. He would
+play on a drum. He was
+fond of mischief; and
+when no one was watching
+him he would do some very queer things. He would take the spools
+from Mrs. Brown&rsquo;s work-basket. He would carry them away and
+hide them.</p>
+
+<p>He would take her thimble and wax, and hide them too.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes he would bring them back again. Sometimes Mrs.
+Brown would have to find them herself. This gave her a good deal
+of trouble.</p>
+
+<p>At last Billy acted so badly, that Mrs. Brown told Sammy that
+she could not have him in the house any longer. One morning
+Mrs. Brown went away to spend the day.</p>
+
+<p>She thought the monkey was fastened out of the house. But he
+got in through a window. When Mrs. Brown came home she did
+think of Billy. She opened the door of her pantry. She saw a
+dreadful sight. She knew at once that Billy had been there. He
+had moved the dishes all about, from one shelf to another. He had
+poured milk and sugar over the floor. He had emptied bottles of
+medicine into clean dishes. He had broken up a whole loaf of cake
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a></span>
+and scattered it around. He had eaten out the middle of a pie,
+and turned it over in the plate. Mrs. Brown could not find her
+spoons and forks anywhere. But she found them afterwards in the
+cellar.</p>
+
+<p>Now Mrs. Brown had to go right to work and clean her pantry.
+After she had put that
+in order, she made a fire
+in the stove. All this
+time Billy was not seen
+anywhere.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 304px;">
+<img src="images/oyf076.jpg" width="304" height="400"
+alt="Billy pouring milk on the floor" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The fire had been
+burning a few minutes,
+when Mrs. Brown heard
+a terrible scratching in
+the oven, and out
+jumped Billy as spry as
+ever.</p>
+
+<p>He ran out of doors.
+He was not seen again
+until the next morning.</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. Brown told
+Sammy that the monkey
+had made so much
+work for her, that she
+could not have him any
+longer.</p>
+
+<p>Sammy saw that his mother was very much in earnest.</p>
+
+<p>So he sold Billy to a pedler who came along the next day.</p>
+
+<p>The pedler gave him fifty cents for Billy.</p>
+
+<p>Sammy was sorry to let him go, but he wanted to please his
+mother.</p>
+
+<p class="author">M. M. H.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/oyf077.jpg" width="200" height="101"
+alt="An owl" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf078.jpg" width="300" height="87"
+alt="A cottage, birds and butterflies" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="bessie_in_the_mountains" id="bessie_in_the_mountains"></a>BESSIE IN THE MOUNTAINS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Bessie Lee was six years old when she went to the mountains
+of North Carolina with her father.</p>
+
+<p>What Bessie liked best of all were the nice donkey rides every
+morning. The poor donkeys
+didn&rsquo;t get much rest, for the
+little folks kept them busy all
+day. Bessie was kind to them,
+but some of the children were
+not. Bessie liked a donkey
+named Kate best of all.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 288px;">
+<img src="images/oyf079.jpg" width="288" height="350"
+alt="Kate is unhappy at being ridden" />
+</div>
+
+<p>One day Bessie&rsquo;s father put
+her in the saddle, and Kate
+kicked up. When Bessie was
+lifted off, and the saddle removed,
+a great bleeding sore
+was found on the poor donkey&rsquo;s
+back.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie felt very sorry for
+poor Kate, and said, &ldquo;Papa,
+I don&rsquo;t want to ride to-day,
+but please do not send Kate back to the stables.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not, Bessie?&rdquo; said Mr. Lee.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;O, papa, the man will let her to some of the rough boys, and
+they will hurt her back.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Lee was pleased to see his little daughter&rsquo;s kindness to the
+poor dumb donkey; but he wished to know if Bessie would deny
+herself for Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Bessie,&rdquo; said her father, &ldquo;if you have any money, give it
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a></span>
+to the man when he comes for the donkey. Tell him you wish to
+keep Kate all day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have the money you gave me for ice-cream,&rdquo; said Bessie.
+&ldquo;Will that pay the man?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was enough, and was given to the man. Bessie kept the
+donkey all day. She led Kate to the greenest places in the yard,
+and let her eat the grass. She divided her apples with Kate, and
+carried her a little pail of water.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf080.jpg" width="500" height="401"
+alt="Bessie feeds an apple to Kate" />
+</div>
+
+<p>At night Bessie told her father she had been happy all day.
+He made her still happier by telling her she could keep Kate every
+day while she was in the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie kissed her father and was soon fast asleep. She dreamed
+of riding in a little carriage drawn by six white donkeys.</p>
+
+<p class="author">AUNT NELL.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf081.jpg" width="500" height="230"
+alt="A spray of flowers" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="paulines_strange_pets" id="paulines_strange_pets"></a>PAULINE&rsquo;S STRANGE PETS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Pauline had no little brothers or sisters, and no little playmates.
+Her father&rsquo;s home was away out in the country, far away from any
+neighbors. Being so much alone, Pauline thought of all sorts
+of queer ways to amuse herself. One day she invited her papa and
+mamma to go down to see her &ldquo;Nursery,&rdquo; as she called it. It was
+a little, square piece of ground, enclosed by a neat low fence, made
+of narrow slats, placed close together. All kinds of flowers were
+planted around it. Besides, there were some little, flat buildings all
+along one side.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf082.jpg" width="500" height="202"
+alt="Toads" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 396px;">
+<img src="images/oyf083.jpg" width="396" height="600"
+alt="Pauline plays outdoors with her pets" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PAULINE&rsquo;S STRANGE PETS.</p>
+
+<p>What do you think they saw there? Toads of all sorts and
+sizes, from the wee baby toads to the great big grandfathers. Then
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"><!-- location of illustration, PAULINE'S STRANGE PETS --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a></span>
+such a strange array of garments!&mdash;for they were all dressed.
+Pauline had made for her pets all kinds of clothes. There they were,
+hopping around, some in bright calico dresses, and some in the
+funniest red flannel pants and coats you ever saw.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/oyf084.jpg" width="450" height="251"
+alt="Toads in costume" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Day after day Pauline went to her &ldquo;Nursery&rdquo; to feed and play
+with her strange little pets. But one morning she ran down as
+usual, after breakfast, to find all of the toad family had disappeared.
+The fence that enclosed her &ldquo;Nursery&rdquo; was completely broken
+down. Not a single toad was left of the funny creatures who had
+lived there.</p>
+
+<p>Pauline felt very sorry to lose them. She told her mamma
+she was sure they would all die of shame when they found other
+toads did not wear any clothes at all.</p>
+
+<p class="author">H. C. LARNED.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf085.jpg" width="500" height="81"
+alt="Large mushrooms" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="go_halves" id="go_halves"></a>&ldquo;GO HALVES!&rdquo;</h2>
+
+
+<p>Little Fred Mason&rsquo;s father took him to an exhibition of wild
+animals.</p>
+
+<p>After they had looked at the elephants, lions, tigers and bears,
+they went to see the monkeys. On the way, Mr. Mason bought two
+large oranges and gave them to Fred.</p>
+
+<p>There were six cages of small animals. One of them was for the
+&ldquo;happy family.&rdquo; Fred thought the creatures in it must be called
+the &ldquo;happy family&rdquo; because the dogs, cats and monkeys were all
+the time teasing and plaguing one another. One monkey had a rat
+in his lap. He tended it as a mother does her baby. The monkey
+was happy, but Mr. Mason did not think the rat liked it very well.</p>
+
+<p>Fred put one orange in his side pocket. He could not wait until
+he got home to eat the other. As he walked along among the cages
+he seemed to care more for the fruit than for the animals. He
+sucked the orange with all his might till he came to a cage with
+three monkeys in it.</p>
+
+<p>One of them looked very sober and solemn. One opened his
+mouth and seemed to be laughing. All of them looked at Fred and
+held out their hands.</p>
+
+<p>They could not talk; if they could they would have said, &ldquo;Go
+halves!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The orange was nice and sweet; Fred did not wish to &ldquo;go halves.&rdquo;
+He turned away, for he did not like to be asked for that which he
+was not willing to give. The monkeys put their hands out for some
+of the oranges, but Fred looked the other way.</p>
+
+<p>Fred should have looked at the monkeys, for the one nearest to
+him put out his long arm and snatched the orange from his hand.
+Fred tried to get it again. While he was doing so, the solemn monkey
+reached down and took the orange from his pocket. Fred did
+not think how near he was to the cage.</p>
+
+<p>Fred began to cry. The laughing monkey had no orange. He
+was afraid of the solemn monkey, but he chased the one that had
+stolen the orange Fred was eating all over the cage. He got it at
+last.</p>
+
+<p>Fred&rsquo;s father bought two more oranges for him, and he did not
+go near the cages again.</p>
+
+<p class="author">MARY BLOOM.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 474px;">
+<img src="images/oyf086.jpg" width="474" height="600"
+alt="The monkeys in the cage, and Fred eating his orange" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;GO HALVES!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf087.jpg" width="500" height="347"
+alt="Children play ring-around-a-rosy" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="little_games" id="little_games"></a>LITTLE GAMES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Ring&mdash;a&mdash;round&mdash;a&mdash;rosy!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cheeks just like a posy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eyes that twinkle with delight,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could there be a fairer sight?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Little feet that dance in glee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Voices singing merrily.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Won&rsquo;t you stop a little while?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At my question you will smile:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Rosy I have never seen,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell me, is she some fair queen?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have your lily hands now crowned her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While you formed a ring around her?<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Why &lsquo;draw buckets of water<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For my lady&rsquo;s daughter&rsquo;?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has she spoiled her pretty dress?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! to wash her face, I guess!<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">Very hard &rsquo;tis to unravel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is meant, dears, by &lsquo;green gravel.&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, you say, &lsquo;How barley grows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You, nor I, nor nobody knows;&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oats, peas, beans, too, you include:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If the question be not rude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Darlings, tell why this is done.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Ha! ha!&rdquo; laugh they; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s such fun!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">GEORGE COOPER.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="what_we_found_in_our_stove" id="what_we_found_in_our_stove"></a>WHAT WE FOUND IN OUR STOVE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Something very strange happened at our house the other day. In
+our cold country we keep a stove in our sitting-room all summer.
+Sometimes we have to build a fire, even in July and August.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon I was surprised to hear a great scratching in the
+room. After looking about a little, I found it came from the stove.
+Scratch, scratch, scratch, as if some creature was trying hard to get
+out. I called my boy of eight years. For a few moments all was still,
+and we concluded the poor thing had got out as it had come in.</p>
+
+<p>But we were mistaken; soon came that same clattering noise again.
+We removed the top of the stove and peeped in; nothing was to be
+seen in the darkness. We then made bold to open the door and poke
+about; but with no better result. After listening, we decided that the
+creature was between the lining and outside.</p>
+
+<p>But how were we to get at it? Annie came in from the kitchen
+armed with a poker. We took out the damper and poked out all the
+soot and ashes. We brought to the front&mdash;what do you think?
+Why, a little bird, a chimney swallow, chirping and fluttering, poor
+thing, with fright.</p>
+
+<p>One wing seemed to droop a little; so we took it up and put it in a
+box. If we supposed it was going to stay there we were much mistaken.
+Soon the bird began to recover, and with a little hop was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a></span>
+upon the edge of the box cocking its head and looking with its big,
+bright eyes all about, as if on the alert for any new danger.</p>
+
+<p>A tree was the best and safest place, and Hervin carried it out and
+set it gently down.</p>
+
+<p>It rose, feebly at first, then soared away over the tops of the houses.</p>
+
+<p>Wasn&rsquo;t that a queer place to find a birdie? You are glad it got
+out, for that very night we had to have a fire.</p>
+
+<p class="author">MRS. W. S. AMSDEN.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 319px;">
+<img src="images/oyf088.jpg" width="319" height="350"
+alt="Two cherubs" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="the_john_and_lincoln_fleet" id="the_john_and_lincoln_fleet"></a>THE JOHN AND LINCOLN FLEET.</h2>
+
+
+<p>John and Lincoln have a fleet of ten boats. They made these
+boats themselves. They are made out of flat chips. They are
+whittled round at one end and pointed at the other. Each boat
+has a mast and a sail.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes they tie these boats together, and call them the
+<i>John and Lincoln</i> fleet; they call each other &ldquo;Captain John&rdquo;
+and &ldquo;Captain Lincoln.&rdquo;
+They have a big boat
+called the <i>Mary</i>; aunt
+Mary gave it to them.
+The <i>Mary</i> is their flagship.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 336px;">
+<img src="images/oyf089.jpg" width="336" height="350" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CAPTAIN JOHN AND THE MARY.</p>
+
+<p>One day the fleet were
+all out when a storm
+came. The wind blew,
+the rain fell, and the
+waves were big. Six of
+the little boats were
+wrecked on a rock. But
+the <i>Mary</i> only plunged
+a little. It was great
+fun. What, a storm at
+sea great fun! Yes, because
+John and Lincoln made the storm themselves. They made
+the wind with the bellows; they poured the big raindrops from
+the watering-pot; and they made the high waves by dragging shingles
+through the water.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="the_yacht_starlight" id="the_yacht_starlight"></a>THE YACHT STARLIGHT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The <i>Starlight</i> was in Gloucester harbor for three days, and
+Rob and Phyllis went on board with mamma one day, to lunch
+with Arthur and Helen and their mamma. They had never been
+on a yacht before. They were surprised to find it so pretty. It
+was finished in beautiful mahogany with a great deal of brass-work,
+the latter brightly shining, too, for the housekeeping on
+a yacht is always first-rate.</p>
+
+<p>The ceiling of the cabin was of blue satin, and so were the curtains,
+which hung before the funny little windows, and at the
+doors. On each side of the cabin was a long seat covered with
+blue satin cushions.</p>
+
+<p>These cushions lifted up, and underneath were kept books,
+dishes, clothes, in fact, all sorts of things. Every bit of room
+on a vessel is always precious, there can be so little of it, anyway.
+Helen showed Phyllis her sleeping room. It was a mite
+of a place, about half as big as the bed Phyllis slept in at
+home. The walls were lined with blue satin and the bed was
+covered with blue satin, and it was a real blue satin nest for
+a little girl, instead of for a bird.</p>
+
+<p>Then they went on deck to watch the sailors, who were running
+up and down the rigging. Arthur has been on his father&rsquo;s
+yacht so much, for his father owns the <i>Starlight</i>, that he can
+run up and down the ratlines almost as fast as the sailors can.
+The ratlines are the rope ladders you see in the picture. There
+was on board a big Newfoundland dog named Gil. Arthur&rsquo;s aunt
+Lou told them a story about Gil.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 386px;">
+<img src="images/oyf090.jpg" width="386" height="600"
+alt="Men climb the rigging" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE YACHT STARLIGHT.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a></span></p>
+
+<h3>THE STORY OF THE DOG ON THE YACHT STARLIGHT.</h3>
+
+<p><span class="dcapn"><span class="dropcap">N</span></span>OW Gil once belonged to an officer in our
+Navy and he sometimes went to sea with his
+master.</p>
+
+<p>Once when he went on a voyage a little
+kitten went too. She was everybody&rsquo;s pet
+and a very friendly kitty. She was afraid
+of Gil, though, and would never let him
+come near her, but would make such a loud
+spitting and growling at him, when he tried
+to play with her, that poor Gil had to go
+away and play by himself.</p>
+
+<p>One day kitty fell overboard and Gil saw her and plunged into
+the sea to save her. Kitty thought it was bad enough to fall
+into the water, but to see Gil come jumping after her was too
+much, and she was ready to die with fright.</p>
+
+<p>When he opened his great mouth to take her and hold her
+above water, she felt sure that her last moment had come, and
+she fought and scratched so, that Gil could not get hold of her.</p>
+
+<p>The officers stood watching Gil and pussy. Poor little mistaken
+pussy was getting very tired and would soon sink if she did not
+let good old Gil save her.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Gil dove down out of sight and then rose again just
+under kitty, so that she stood on his back. Puss was so glad
+to feel something solid under her little tired legs, that she clung
+to it with all her nails. Then Gil swam slowly to meet the boat
+which had been sent to pick him up.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 426px;">
+<img src="images/oyf091.jpg" width="426" height="600"
+alt="A child drawing on a wall, another child helping" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption red">THE YOUNG ARTIST.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="the_new_parasol" id="the_new_parasol"></a>THE NEW PARASOL.</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 243px;">
+<img src="images/oyf092.jpg" width="243" height="300"
+alt="A little girl" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ve got a brand-new parasol<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">(Of pink silk trimmed with lace),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But auntie says &rsquo;twill never keep<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The shine out of <em>my</em> face.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Why not, I wonder: if it&rsquo;s held<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Just in the proper place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why won&rsquo;t it keep the sunshine out<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of anybody&rsquo;s face?<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She says thick clouds would hardly do<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">(Much less pink silk and lace)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To keep the merry sunshine out<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of such a dimpled face.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But mamma says, &ldquo;Go take your walk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And never mind aunt Grace.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I &rsquo;spect I&rsquo;ll have to let the sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Keep shining in my face!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="the_man_who_was_shaken_by_a_lion" id="the_man_who_was_shaken_by_a_lion"></a>THE MAN WHO WAS SHAKEN BY A LION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>He was David Livingstone. He was a missionary, and a great
+traveller too.</p>
+
+<p>He lived almost all his life in Africa. In some parts of Africa
+there are lions. Once he was staying at a certain village. Every
+night the lions broke into the yards and carried off a cow
+or two. So a party of natives went out to hunt for them.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 309px;">
+<img src="images/oyf093.jpg" width="309" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A LION.</p>
+
+<p>Livingstone was with
+them. They saw some
+lions, and tried to surround
+them in a circle.
+But the lions got
+away.</p>
+
+<p>They were coming
+home when Livingstone
+saw a great lion. He
+was sitting on a rock
+not far away. He fired
+at him, but did not hit
+him. He stopped to load
+his gun again.</p>
+
+<p>He heard the men
+shout. He turned and
+saw the lion all ready
+to spring.</p>
+
+<p>(A lion crouches to
+spring, like a cat.)</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a></span>
+The lion sprang upon Livingstone, and seized his shoulder with
+his great teeth. He shook him just as a cat shakes a mouse.</p>
+
+<p>Was Livingstone frightened? He was frightened when the lion
+seized him. But after he shook him he wasn&rsquo;t a bit afraid.</p>
+
+<p>He said the lion shook the fear all out of him. He felt as if
+he was in a pleasant dream. He only wondered what the lion
+would do next.</p>
+
+<p>He did not do anything next. He stood with his great paw
+on Livingstone&rsquo;s head till another man fired at him. Then he
+sprang on that man and bit him.</p>
+
+<p>Then he sprang on a third man and bit him. And then&mdash;he
+rolled over, dead! So Livingstone escaped.</p>
+
+<p>Livingstone afterwards visited England. The little English children
+used to ask him to tell them the story of how the lion
+shook him.</p>
+
+<p>The lion belongs to the cat family. Does not the lion in the
+picture look like a big handsome cat?</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="the_laughing_jackass" id="the_laughing_jackass"></a>THE LAUGHING JACKASS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>He always begins his queer cry about an hour before sunrise.</p>
+
+<p>Then he is heard again just at noon, and again at sunset. So
+he has another name. He is called the &ldquo;Bushman&rsquo;s clock.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In Australia there are great tracts of land where few white
+people live. These tracts of land are called &ldquo;The Bush;&rdquo; and
+the settlers on these lands are called Bushmen.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 430px;">
+<img src="images/oyf094.jpg" width="430" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">LAUGHING JACKASSES.</p>
+
+<p>The laughing jackass is a very sociable bird. He likes to watch
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"><!-- location of illustration LAUGHING JACKASSES --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a></span>
+the Bushman at his work. He watches him as he pitches his tent,
+and builds his fire and cooks his supper. He is a kingfisher.</p>
+
+<p>Kingfishers generally live near the water. But this great brown
+fisher lives in the woods. He eats crabs and insects. He relishes
+lizards very much,
+and there are plenty of
+lizards in Australia.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 332px;">
+<img src="images/oyf095.jpg" width="332" height="400"
+alt="A man wearing a headcloth" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HE LISTENS TO THE CRY OF THE LAUGHING JACKASS.</p>
+
+<p>He hates snakes. A
+great many snakes are
+found in Australia, and
+many of them are very
+poisonous.</p>
+
+<p>The laughing jackass
+is not a bit afraid of
+them. He kills them
+with his long, sharp
+bill.</p>
+
+<p>When he is angry
+he raises the crest on
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>His color is a fine
+chestnut brown mixed
+with white. His wings
+are slightly blue.</p>
+
+<p>The mother-bird lays her eggs in a hole in a gum-tree. She
+does not build a nest. She lays her eggs on the rotten wood at
+the bottom of the hole. Her eggs are a lovely pearl white.</p>
+
+<p>Here is one of the black men who live in Australia. He is
+listening to the cry of the laughing jackass.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="the_trick_they_played_on_jocko" id="the_trick_they_played_on_jocko"></a>THE TRICK THEY PLAYED ON JOCKO.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Jocko was homesick. Jocko was a forest creature. He was born
+to tread the ground, and climb trees, and eat sweet wild fruits.</p>
+
+<p>Jocko liked to leap from tree to tree, and run about over
+miles of woodland. Now he found himself in a cage. He called
+and cried, but none of his little brown playmates answered.</p>
+
+<p>He could see only blue waves, and the ropes and masts and
+sails of the ship. He was tossed up and down. His cage swung
+from side to side. The motion made him sick&mdash;seasick.</p>
+
+<p>After many days, he saw the land again. But it was not forest
+land. It was brown land&mdash;city land. No moss, no vines, no dewy
+green grass, no flowers! All stone and brick! His cage was
+carried into a hotel dining-room where people came and sat down
+and talked in German, and ate things that Jocko knew were
+not good to eat&mdash;bread and pies and cheese and sauerkraut and
+meat. Oh, how Jocko wanted a fresh sweet cocoanut!</p>
+
+<p>But by and by Jocko was not so homesick. The cook was kind
+to him, and gave him sweet bits to eat. The visitors took him
+up and petted him. The little girl who lived at the hotel made
+him a nice bed in the little crib she used to sleep in.</p>
+
+<p>So at last Jocko had a good time, and forgot about the woods.</p>
+
+<p>But one day little Gretchen played a trick on him to see what he
+would do. She knew he was fond of white lump sugar. So she
+filled a bottle with lumps of sugar. Then she gave it to Jocko.</p>
+
+<p>Jocko was wild with delight when he saw the sugar. He
+jumped up in a chair and lifted the bottle to his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>But Gretchen had put in a cork. The sugar would not pour out.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a></span>
+It was very funny then to see what trouble Jocko was in. He
+would tilt the bottle up and try to drink the sugar out of the
+neck. Then he would try to shake it out at the bottom. Then
+he would sit still and look at the lumps. Then he would try to
+bite through the glass. Then he would jump down and run away.
+Then he would come back and catch the bottle again and roll
+the lumps about, and chatter and scold as he heard them rattle.</p>
+
+<p>This went on for several days. Everybody came in to see little
+Gretchen&rsquo;s monkey and his
+sugar bottle.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 322px;">
+<img src="images/oyf096.jpg" width="322" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GRETCHEN.</p>
+
+<p>But one day the cook let
+a jar of olives fall. It broke,
+and the olives rolled out on
+the floor. Jocko gave a little
+scream of joy. Like a
+flash, up he sprang to a high
+cupboard with his sugar bottle,
+and gave it a mighty
+fling. Down it came&mdash;crash!</p>
+
+<p>Out the lumps rolled over
+the floor. Down sprang Jocko.
+He shouted with delight. He
+had a sweet feast.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, how he munched and
+crunched and chattered! And now, what do you think happened?</p>
+
+<p>He would seize every bottle and can and pitcher that was left
+within reach. Up he would run to the top of some high cupboard
+or shelf and dash it to the floor! Such mischief as he made!</p>
+
+<p>Little Gretchen had to give him away at last because he broke
+everything he could lay his roguish paws upon.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center link"><a href="#Page_123">See another picture from this story.</a></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="some_other_things_bobby_saw_at_sea" id="some_other_things_bobby_saw_at_sea"></a>SOME OTHER THINGS BOBBY SAW AT SEA.</h2>
+
+
+<p>He saw the stormy petrels. They
+flew about the ship almost every day.
+They liked to eat the scraps the cook
+threw overboard.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 249px;">
+<img src="images/oyf097.jpg" width="249" height="250"
+alt="A petrel in flight over the sea" />
+<span class="caption">THE STORMY PETREL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The petrels are sooty black. Their
+feet are partly webbed.</p>
+
+<p>They sit and float upon the water.
+They run about over the water. In
+stormy weather they fly through the
+dashing foam.</p>
+
+<p>Bobby&rsquo;s mamma told him many things about the stormy petrel.
+She told him how the stormy petrel flies far, far away from land.
+His home is on the sea. He can fly all day long and not be tired.</p>
+
+<p>The stormy petrel hardly ever goes on land except to lay her
+eggs. Her nest is in a hole in some high cliff by the sea. She
+hatches one little bird. It looks like a ball of fluff. The nest
+smells very oily.</p>
+
+<p>The stormy petrel is very oily, like all sea birds. He is so full
+of oil that the people of the Faroe Islands sometimes use him for
+a lamp. They take a dead petrel and run a wick through him.
+Then they set him on end and light the wick and he gives a very
+good light indeed!</p>
+
+<p>The sailors call the stormy petrel &ldquo;Mother Carey&rsquo;s chickens.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The name of Bobby&rsquo;s ship was <i>The Jefferson</i>. Once when the
+<i>Jefferson</i> was in an English port, Bobby saw something very pretty.
+It was a bird&rsquo;s nest. It was built in the rigging of a ship.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a></span>
+This ship had been lying in port a good while. The nest was
+built in a block where some of the cordage runs. It was built
+by a pair of chaffinches.</p>
+
+<p>Now the chaffinch is not a sea bird; it is a land bird. It
+builds its nest in trees and hedges. It builds a cosey little nest
+out of moss and wool and hair.
+It is deep and round like a cup.</p>
+
+<p>But this pretty pair of chaffinches
+found a new place in which
+to build their nest. It was even
+more airy than the top of a tree.
+See it in the picture! Day by
+day Bobby watched them as they
+flew busily to and fro. Many other people watched them too.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf098.jpg" width="500" height="471" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE CHAFFINCHES&rsquo; NEST.</p>
+
+<p>The chaffinch is a cheerful little bird. In the countries where
+he lives, he is heard merrily whistling in the spring time. There
+he sits singing to his mate who is keeping her eggs warm. Happy
+little fellow!</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="the_mosquito" id="the_mosquito"></a>THE MOSQUITO.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Little boys and girls
+believe that all mosquitoes
+sting and bite.</p>
+
+<p>But they do not.
+The male mosquito
+never does. He wears
+a plume on his head,
+and does nothing but
+dance in the sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>It is the female
+mosquito that sings
+around our heads at
+night and keeps us
+awake. It is she who
+bites us. Look at her head. This is the way it looks under a
+microscope. Do you wonder that her bite hurts?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf099.jpg" width="350" height="310" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">MOSQUITO&rsquo;S HEAD UNDER A MICROSCOPE.</p>
+
+<p>She lays her eggs in a very queer way. First she finds a
+puddle or a pool of warmish water. Then she fastens herself to
+some stick, or sliver, or stem, or floating leaf, by her first two
+rows of legs. Then she lays about three hundred tiny eggs.</p>
+
+<p>The eggs cling together in the shape of a boat or canoe, and
+float upon the water. In about three days they hatch. Then
+the warm water is full of &ldquo;wigglers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>By and by these wigglers have wings. The outside skin bursts
+open. They lift their heads and shoulders out of the water.
+Then off they fly&mdash;a whole swarm of singing, stinging mosquitoes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a></span>
+We are all glad when the cold weather comes and the mosquito goes.</p>
+
+<p>I suppose you think if you lived in a cold country, you would
+not be troubled by mosquitoes.</p>
+
+<p>But in Lapland, a very cold country, the mosquitoes come in
+crowds and clouds. Sometimes they are so thick they hide people
+in the road like a fog. What do you think of that?</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="the_laughing_girl" id="the_laughing_girl"></a>THE LAUGHING GIRL.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bobolink laughs in the meadow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The wild waves laugh on the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They sparkle and glance, they dimple and dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And are merry as waves can be.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The green leaves laugh on the trees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The fields laugh out with their flowers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the sunbeam&rsquo;s glance, they glow and they dance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And laugh to their falling showers.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The man laughs up in the moon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The stars too laugh in the sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They sparkle and glance, they twinkle and dance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then why, then, pray, shouldn&rsquo;t I?<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, I laugh at morn and at night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I laugh through the livelong day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I laugh and I prance, I skip and I dance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So happy am I and so gay.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 429px;">
+<img src="images/oyf100.jpg" width="429" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE LAUGHING GIRL.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf101.jpg" width="500" height="340"
+alt="Annie and her ducks" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;CLUCK-CLUCK-CLUCK! QUAW-AW-AWK! CR-R-R-R!&rdquo; SAID THE HEN MOTHER.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="annies_ducks" id="annies_ducks"></a>ANNIE&rsquo;S DUCKS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There were seven ducklings. The very first thing they did was
+to go and tumble into a bucket of water.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cluck-cluck-cluck! quaw-aw-awk! cr-r-r!&rdquo; said the hen-mother.
+She was so frightened she made just such a noise as she does
+when she sees a hawk.</p>
+
+<p>She thought they would all drown. But they didn&rsquo;t. They
+swam and dove and shook the water from their little wings.</p>
+
+<p>One day when they were about a quarter grown, Annie found
+Fluffy-dumpty lying on the ground; she was quacking faintly.
+Her leg was broken! Annie ran to papa.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a></span>
+&ldquo;O papa! mend her leg just as you did my arm!&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>Papa is a doctor; and when Annie was a <em>very</em> little girl she
+broke her arm and papa mended it. So he did up Fluffy-dumpty&rsquo;s
+leg with a splinter, and then wound a bandage round
+it. Annie took care of her. Mary used to help Annie feed her
+with a spoon.</p>
+
+<p>Fluffy-dumpty got well very fast. But when she was about
+three quarters grown, she met with another accident. She fell
+down a steep cellar way.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quack-quack! Take me out! Oh, take me out!&rdquo; cried poor
+Fluffy-dumpty. The other six ducks crowded around and looked
+down at her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We can&rsquo;t! we can&rsquo;t!&rdquo; they cried. &ldquo;We haven&rsquo;t got any
+hands. Call a boy, do!&rdquo; So Annie called Sam, who took her out.</p>
+
+<p>How thankful Fluffy-dumpty was! She smoothed down her ruffled
+feathers and said, &ldquo;Quack-quack,&rdquo; softly. The other ducks
+all talked at once.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What a narrow &rsquo;scape you had, Fluffy-dumpty!&rdquo; said one duck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did you happen to fall into that horrid place?&rdquo; asked
+another.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What a fine boy Sam is!&rdquo; said a third duck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s almost too good for a boy,&rdquo; said a fourth.</p>
+
+<p>But it all sounded as if they only said &ldquo;quack-quack!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Every day of their lives these ducks got into the garden, and ate
+the lettuce and strawberries and cabbage. So the gardener put a
+board over the hole under the gate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; said big Broad-bill, &ldquo;we know more ways than
+one.&rdquo; Then the seven started off in a line, and marched round
+the garden till they came to another hole, and in they went.
+The gardener was very angry.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center link"><a href="#mary_and_annie_feed_fluffy_dumpty">See another picture from this story.</a></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2 style="padding-bottom: 1.5em;"><a name="vick_in_trouble" id="vick_in_trouble"></a>VICK IN TROUBLE.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapb"><span class="dropcap">B</span></span>ERTIE had gone off and left Vick. He was so eager
+to see the soldiers parade that he forgot all about
+him. This had never happened before.</p>
+
+<p>When Uncle Ned gave Vick to Bertie mamma
+said: &ldquo;Now, Bertie, you must take the care of
+Vick. If a boy has a dog he must learn to care
+for him. You must see that Vick is fed. You must
+bathe and comb him every day; and you must give
+him plenty of exercise.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But as I said, Bertie had forgotten Vick that day. Vick did
+not know what to make of it. His heart was almost broken.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is too bad!&rdquo; he howled. &ldquo;Here am I shut up with
+two saucepans and a dummy. No water to drink&mdash;no bone to
+gnaw&mdash;no little master to play with&mdash;wow-ow-ow-ow!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>What a dismal howl it was! Mamma heard him; she was in
+the kitchen making sponge cake. She could not leave it for a
+moment. But as soon as it was baked she let Vick out.</p>
+
+<p>There was Bertie just coming round the corner! He looked
+quite ashamed. Yes, he had thought of Vick at last. He had
+come home for him.</p>
+
+<p>Did Vick forgive him? Doggies always forgive. They have
+loving and generous hearts. He scrambled all over Bertie and
+licked his hands and his face and off they went to see the soldiers&mdash;a
+very happy pair.</p>
+
+<p>Do you think Bertie ever forgot Vick again?</p>
+
+<p>Do you ever forget to care for your pets?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 424px;">
+<img src="images/oyf102.jpg" width="424" height="600"
+alt="Mother and children watch the dogs eating" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">IT WAS FUN TO SEE THEM EAT.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="in_grandmas_attic" id="in_grandmas_attic"></a>IN GRANDMA&rsquo;S ATTIC.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Every summer grandma Cushing has two visitors. Their names
+are Blanche Cushing and Dorothy Cushing.</p>
+
+<p>Blanche lives in Iowa. She has blue eyes and yellow hair and
+is seven years old. Dorothy lives in New York City. She has
+brown eyes and brown
+hair and is eight years
+old.</p>
+
+<p>They love dearly to
+play in grandma&rsquo;s attic.
+There are queer old
+bonnets and gowns and
+cocked hats hanging on
+the walls.</p>
+
+<p>There are trunks full
+of caps and spectacles
+and old snuffers and no
+end of queer things.</p>
+
+<p>I cannot begin to tell
+you everything the cousins
+play. But there is
+one thing they like to
+play ever so much.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 302px;">
+<img src="images/oyf103.jpg" width="302" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PLAYING IN GRANDMA&rsquo;S ATTIC.</p>
+
+<p>They like to dress up
+in the queer old clothes
+and play Cinderella, and Mother Hubbard, and Red Riding Hood.</p>
+
+<p>When Blanche gets on her great-great-grandma Cushing&rsquo;s cap
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a></span>
+and spectacles and long mits, she makes a very charming little
+Mother Hubbard.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 298px;">
+<img src="images/oyf104.jpg" width="298" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A VERY CHARMING MOTHER HUBBARD.</p>
+
+<p>They sit in the big old chairs and tell stories. Dorothy likes
+to hear about the wolves.
+There are wolves where
+Blanche lives.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, one day when I
+was a very, <em>very</em> little girl,&rdquo;
+said Blanche, &ldquo;a horrid big
+wolf came up to the window
+and looked in. I was
+sitting in mamma&rsquo;s lap,
+and he put his paws on
+the window and just looked
+at us horrid!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And then another time,
+mamma, you know, was
+going out to meet papa,
+and she saw a big wolf on
+the ground, and she thought
+it was dead, and she was
+going right up, and it
+wasn&rsquo;t dead a bit. It just
+got up and runned off to the woods, and mamma was awful
+scared and runned away too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When Blanche tells the wolf stories they play &ldquo;scared.&rdquo; It is
+fun to play &ldquo;scared.&rdquo; They shriek and run and hide.</p>
+
+<p>One rainy day they had been playing Mother Hubbard.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now,&rdquo; said Blanche, &ldquo;I will tell a b-eautiful wolf story. It
+will make us awful scared. See if it doesn&rsquo;t!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a></span>
+So she climbed up into a big chair and began. But right in
+the middle of the story they heard something go scratch, scratch,
+very loudly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, what is that, Dotty?&rdquo; whispered Blanche, clutching Dorothy&rsquo;s
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>Scratch, scratch, it went again, and then there was a great rattling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s a wolf!&rdquo; cried Dotty; and down the attic stairs they
+flew pell-mell; through the kitchen chamber and the great unfinished
+chamber, and down the back stairs; through the kitchen and the
+dining-room, and burst
+into grandma&rsquo;s room all
+out of breath.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What <em>is</em> the matter,
+children?&rdquo; asked grandma.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, there&rsquo;s a wolf in
+the attic,&rdquo; they both cried
+out.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nonsense! we don&rsquo;t
+have wolves in Massachusetts,&rdquo;
+said grandma.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Dorothy,
+&ldquo;something scratched
+dreadfully.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So grandma went up
+to the attic to see about
+it. &ldquo;Where was the
+noise?&rdquo; she asked.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 330px;">
+<img src="images/oyf105.jpg" width="330" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">BRIGHT-EYES AT HOME.</p>
+
+<p>They pointed to the dark place behind the big chimneys.
+Grandma went up and opened a door and out walked&mdash;a wolf!
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a></span>
+no; Towser, the old cat! Blanche and Dorothy sometimes have
+another visitor in the attic. It is a big rat. He lives in the barn.
+He has a road underground to the house cellar. Then he comes up
+to the attic through the wall.</p>
+
+<p>The cousins never know when to expect him. He comes in
+without knocking. The first thing they know there he is looking
+at them with bright eyes.</p>
+
+<p>They have named him Bright-eyes. They feed him with cake
+and cheese. He is very tame. Grandma says she never heard of
+such a thing as feeding a rat. She says Bright-eyes eats her
+hens&rsquo; eggs. He steals them out of the nests.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="little_girl_gracie" id="little_girl_gracie"></a>LITTLE GIRL GRACIE.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>BEDTIME.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So sleepy and demure is my wee Gracie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So long and sober grows the little facie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So silent are the red, red lips so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So quiet are the little hands and feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I know, yes, well I know<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">My Gracie wants to go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the soft, white nest where every night<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My birdie folds her wings till morning light.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now beside my knee the pretty lisper<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her evening prayer with folded hands must whisper,<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">While baby sister sleeps on mother&rsquo;s breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lulled with our voices low to dreamy rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Then in her nightie white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">My restless sunbeam bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is hidden from her shoulders to her feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tucked away in slumber soft and sweet.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3>MORNING.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A merry, white-robed figure at my side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A laughing face, with blue eyes opened wide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Red lips that kiss me in the early dawn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tell me fast enough that night is gone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Ripe and ready for play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">In the early morning gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Restless again are the small hands and feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silent no longer, little lips so sweet.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where is the sunbeam like my Gracie&rsquo;s eyes?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blue as the blue of summer&rsquo;s bluest skies!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What sweeter wakening could be mine than this<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soft &ldquo;Good morning!&rdquo; of my daughter&rsquo;s kiss?<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And thus each hour of day<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Girl Gracie claims for play<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till comes the &ldquo;Sand-man&rdquo; with the twilight hour<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And play has vanished &rsquo;neath his mystic power.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="a_magpie_and_her_nest" id="a_magpie_and_her_nest"></a>A MAGPIE AND HER NEST.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The magpie is a very handsome bird. He knows he is handsome,
+too. He has a fine broad tail. There is a band of purple
+near the end of each feather, and the end is green and purple.</p>
+
+<p>He walks about with this handsome tail perked in the air. He
+does not drag it in the
+dirt, not he!</p>
+
+<p>He is a bright bird,
+too. He can learn to talk,
+and he is full of pretty
+and naughty tricks. He
+is a&mdash;thief! He steals
+eggs from other birds&rsquo; nests.
+He strikes his bill through
+the egg and walks off with
+it. And he does a worse
+thing than that. He steals
+the young birds and eats
+them.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 314px;">
+<img src="images/oyf106.jpg" width="314" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">MAGPIE AND NEST.</p>
+
+<p>But the Magpie is very
+careful to build her nest so
+nobody shall steal her
+eggs. In the first place
+she always builds on a
+high tree. She chooses a tree that has a long smooth trunk,
+that the boys cannot climb easily. How do you suppose she knows
+about mischievous boys? She must make a study of boys.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a></span>
+She builds her nest of dry sticks and mud. She carpets it with
+wool and fine roots. (Birds can always find plenty of wool sticking
+on the bushes in sheep pastures. There is vegetable wool too,
+like the wool on the growing ferns.) Then she makes a roof of
+sticks; she leaves open a small round door at the side. So you
+see it is not easy for boys or birds to steal her eggs.</p>
+
+<p>Magpies like bright glittering things like silver spoons and rings.
+They often steal them and hide them in their nests.</p>
+
+<p>This Magpie is a European bird. There is a beautiful red Magpie
+that lives in China.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 426px;">
+<a name="mary_and_annie_feed_fluffy_dumpty" id="mary_and_annie_feed_fluffy_dumpty"></a>
+<img src="images/oyf108.jpg" width="426" height="600" alt="" />
+<span class="link"><a href="#annies_ducks">Go to story.</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption green">MARY AND ANNIE FEED FLUFFY-DUMPTY.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="at_the_beach" id="at_the_beach"></a>AT THE BEACH.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The Park children went to
+the beach last summer. It
+was a small beach; not at
+all like Nantasket Beach.</p>
+
+<p>There were not many folks
+there. There was a young woman&mdash;a
+very queer young woman
+indeed, Sam thought. She used
+to go out on the beach and sit
+in a camp chair and read!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pshaw! who wants to read
+with a whole ocean to look at?&rdquo;
+said Sam.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf107.jpg" width="300" height="300"
+alt="A young woman sitting in a deckchair" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE YOUNG WOMAN.</p>
+
+<p>Such cunning little slippers as she wore! and her ruffles and hat! Oh,
+my! She used to draw pictures sometimes, but Sam didn&rsquo;t know that.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a><!-- original location of illustration MARY AND ANNIE FEED FLUFFY-DUMPTY --></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Halloo! there she is again!&rdquo; shouted Sam one day. She was
+drawing a picture of them that moment, but they did not know
+it. They were all sliding down the sand cliff.</p>
+
+<p>They had taken off their
+shoes and stockings, and
+were going in bathing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whoo-oop! hurrah!
+here we come! clear the
+track!&rdquo; What a noise
+they did make, to be sure!</p>
+
+<p>But it did not disturb
+anybody. Nobody heard
+it but the young woman
+and some cows in the pasture
+near by.</p>
+
+<p>How warm and soft
+the sand was! It was
+as good as coasting in
+winter. It was better!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 311px;">
+<img src="images/oyf109.jpg" width="311" height="400"
+alt="Children sliding down a sand dune" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE PICTURE THE YOUNG WOMAN DREW.</p>
+
+<p>Down they went into
+the water like so many
+ducks. They can all dive
+and swim almost as well
+as ducks. Papa and mamma were off shore, taking a sail together.
+They saw the slide down hill, and the plunge into the water. They
+saw the brown and yellow heads bobbing about.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do look at them!&rdquo; said mamma. &ldquo;Perfect little Arabs!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do &rsquo;em good,&rdquo; said papa. &ldquo;Little Molly never had such rosy
+cheeks in all her life.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But think of their clothes!&rdquo; said mamma.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="farmer_gray_and_his_apples" id="farmer_gray_and_his_apples"></a>FARMER GRAY AND HIS APPLES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Farmer Gray had a load of apples to sell one day. But nobody
+wanted them. People offered him such a small sum of money
+for them, he said he would rather give them away.</p>
+
+<p>So he started for home with his load of apples. He drove down
+Summer street, past the
+schoolhouse. The boys
+were having their recess.</p>
+
+<p>Now Farmer Gray loved
+children. So when he saw
+these boys he thought,
+&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s just the market
+for my apples.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped his horse
+and called out, &ldquo;Do any
+of you boys know what
+to do with apples?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then there <em>was</em> a shout!
+&ldquo;O yes, sir, we guess
+we do!&rdquo; said all the
+boys.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come on, then!&rdquo; said
+Farmer Gray.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 294px;">
+<img src="images/oyf110.jpg" width="294" height="350"
+alt="A boy eating an apple" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HE KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH FARMER GRAY&rsquo;S APPLES.</p>
+
+<p>The boys crowded around the wagon, and the farmer tossed the
+apples to them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is well for you, boys, that I found no market for my apples
+this morning,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a></span>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s so!&rdquo; said the boys. Then they thanked him heartily.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie Read said, &ldquo;You are the funniest man I ever saw to
+stop and give us the apples.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You would like to see another just like me to-morrow, wouldn&rsquo;t
+you?&rdquo; said Farmer Gray.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I would,&rdquo; said Charley, &ldquo;and I should like to live with
+you too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Just then the school bell rang. The boys all shouted, &ldquo;Good-by!
+good-by!&rdquo; as Farmer Gray drove off.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m glad enough I didn&rsquo;t sell those apples this morning,&rdquo;
+thought Farmer Gray.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="ah_kee" id="ah_kee"></a>AH KEE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Ah Kee is the funniest little fellow alive.</p>
+
+<p>He can stand as straight as any boy I ever saw.</p>
+
+<p>But the straighter he stands, the more you laugh.</p>
+
+<p>He thinks he is very tall. He is about three feet tall.</p>
+
+<p>He thinks he is a little gentleman, because he can drink out
+of a coffee-cup and not spill a drop.</p>
+
+<p>But Ah Kee oftener behaves like a rogue than like a gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>There is always a look of mischief in his bright black eyes.</p>
+
+<p>His mistress never allows him to go into the parlor by himself.</p>
+
+<p>She knows he would sit on the brackets with the little statues.</p>
+
+<p>She knows he would like to swing to and fro on the curtain
+tassels.</p>
+
+<p>She knows he would like to jerk the bell-pull, and bring Rose
+up from the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a></span>
+She knows he would like to take the Sevres vases and walk
+up and down the room with them in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>No, Ah Kee, with his
+roguish tastes, is not to be
+trusted in the parlor by
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>But he sometimes comes
+in when she is there. Sometimes
+when she is reading
+she hears a soft sound like
+this, &ldquo;<i>lsp-s-s-s!</i>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She jumps up, looks all
+around. Under the table, or
+in a corner she sees a soft,
+round, feathery ball of fur&mdash;and
+one little paw raised,
+all claws and motion.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 267px;">
+<img src="images/oyf111.jpg" width="267" height="350"
+alt="Ah Kee about to drink out of a coffee cup" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">AH KEE&rsquo;S GREAT ACCOMPLISHMENT.</p>
+
+<p>Ah, that is Ah Kee, and
+Ah Kee means mischief.
+Perhaps he will spring into
+his mistress&rsquo; lap. Perhaps he will leap up on the piano. You cannot
+be sure what he will decide to do.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, Ah Kee is a monkey, a gay little spider monkey, with a long
+tail that he likes to carry over his head in the shape of the letter S.</p>
+
+<p>Ah Kee&rsquo;s mistress has made up her mind to do one thing. She
+will buy Ah Kee a silver collar with a ring. She will buy Ah
+Kee a broad blue ribbon.</p>
+
+<p>Then, when she wants a quiet hour, she will slip the blue ribbon
+through the collar ring, and tie Ah Kee to the door knob.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="center">
+<table class="gray" summary="Poem">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br />
+<a name="dick_and_gray" id="dick_and_gray"></a>
+Dick and Gray,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My bird and cat,</span><br />
+Good friends are they:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just think of that!</span><br />
+Dick pecks Gray&rsquo;s paw;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gray winks and blinks.</span><br />
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll not harm Dick,&rdquo;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is what he thinks.</span><br />
+So on the wall,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This sunny weather,</span><br />
+Chirping, purring,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They play together.</span><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="the_return_of_the_birds" id="the_return_of_the_birds"></a>THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapd"><span class="dropcap">D</span></span>OWN in the South Land, one morning
+in March, there was a great stir
+among the birds. &ldquo;Spring has come
+in the far North,&rdquo; they said. &ldquo;Jack
+Frost is going, the ice is melting,
+and now we&rsquo;ll go home-home!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Bluebirds, and robins, and bobolinks,
+how glad they were! They
+got up very early that morning, even for birds.
+They bathed in a tiny pond, and preened their
+feathers. They ate their breakfast and then they started,
+straight through the air, for the North.</p>
+
+<p>Do you wonder how they knew the way? How does
+a bird know which way is north and which way is
+south? There is a &ldquo;Careful Gardener&rdquo; who tells the flowers
+when to bloom, and he tells the birds which way to fly.</p>
+
+<p>They flew that day on and on; over the green fields bright
+with flowers; over the trees covered with
+green leaves. By and by, they came
+where the grass was not yet green;
+where there was snow in the hollows;
+where there was ice in the brooks.
+But they didn&rsquo;t mind the cold, for they
+wore their very thickest feather coats.</p>
+
+<div class="figright ipadtop" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/oyf113.jpg" width="200" height="108"
+alt="A small flock of swallows" />
+<span class="caption">ON THROUGH THE AIR.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>That night they nestled down together, and slept in a big
+pine-tree. They found some dried berries on the bushes, for
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"><!-- original location of poem starting 'Dick and Gray' --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a></span>
+breakfast and supper. It was very dark in the morning; it
+rained. But they did not mind that; they liked it. They knew the
+rain would melt the snow, and make the grass and flowers grow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But we must put
+on our waterproofs,&rdquo; they
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Do birds wear waterproofs?
+Oh, yes! But
+they do not carry them
+in trunks. When a bird
+wants to take a journey,
+he just flies off. He does
+not have to pack a
+trunk. He has a tiny
+bag of oil under the
+tip of his wings. This
+is his waterproof.</p>
+
+<p>With his bill he takes
+out the oil and spreads
+it over his feathers.</p>
+
+<p>The raindrops cannot
+go through this oil waterproof,
+but they roll quickly
+off to the ground.
+After they had all put
+on their waterproofs, they flew on and on again, through the rain.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf114.jpg" width="300" height="450" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE LITTLE COUNTRY CHILDREN.</p>
+
+<p>They did not stay together that day. Part of them flew to
+the northeast. By and by these came in sight of a big gilded
+dome.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know where we are,&rdquo; said one old robin. &ldquo;That is Boston
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a></span>
+State House, and right down there is our old nest!&rdquo; and down
+they flew into the Public Gardens. The Boston little men and
+women can see them there any day,
+busy about their nests, and merry as
+birds can be.</p>
+
+<p>Part of the birds flew to the northwest,
+to the hills and woods and fields.
+They built their nests in the trees and
+on the ground. They built them in
+barns and in chimneys. They hid them
+in the grass and in the reeds by the brooks; and the little
+country children know where to find them.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/oyf115.jpg" width="200" height="129" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A NEST.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="first_reward_of_merit" id="first_reward_of_merit"></a>FIRST REWARD OF MERIT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With bounding step and merry laugh<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My little girl&mdash;five and a half&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Held in her hand a picture-card:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;See! mamma, see! I&rsquo;ve tried so hard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Look and see what the letters spell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis a reward for doing well.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have been good a whole long week;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not once, mamma, did teacher speak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or say from recess I must stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because in school I&rsquo;d tried to play.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Last week, you know, my card I lost<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For giving Charlie&rsquo;s book a &lsquo;tost,&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And speaking out aloud in school;<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">I did not know &rsquo;twas &rsquo;gainst the rule.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then teacher said, &lsquo;Edith come here.&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I went right to her, mamma dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And &rsquo;cause I hop-skipped down the aisle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scholars all began to smile.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That week I was so very good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Most got a card, and think I should<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I&rsquo;d not hop-skipped down the aisle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And made the other scholars smile.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if I get one once in four,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">School keeps so long, I&rsquo;ll get lots more.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 323px;">
+<img src="images/oyf116.jpg" width="323" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">EDITH AT HOME.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/oyf117.jpg" width="600" height="434"
+alt="Jocko evades capture by climbing up to a high cupboard" />
+<span class="link"><a href="#the_trick_they_played_on_jocko">Go to story.</a></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">SUCH MISCHIEF AS HE MADE.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="four_little_mice" id="four_little_mice"></a>FOUR LITTLE MICE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Four little mice lived all alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where cats had been so long unknown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They ate and slept without a fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That any danger could be near.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One sunny day with brush and broom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They cleaned their pantry, swept their room,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then made themselves as neat and fine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if invited out to dine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then not knowing what to do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They looked their cedar closet through<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And found their gray coats growing thin:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So sat them down some yarn to spin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon, through a chink to their surprise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A cat looked in with hungry eyes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Shall I come in and cut your thread?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, thank you, no!&rdquo; they trembling said.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf118.jpg" width="350" height="194"
+alt="A cat looks into the mouse house" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="finnette" id="finnette"></a>FINNETTE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bow-wow-wow!&rdquo; was the first thing Winny heard that morning.
+She opened her eyes and there stood Finnette. Aunt Bertha
+had brought her as a birthday gift for Winny
+from Paris.</p>
+
+<p>Finnette was full of pretty tricks. She could
+stand on her hind legs and dance. She could
+sing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Finnette,&rdquo; Winny&rsquo;s mamma would say,
+&ldquo;I will play and you shall sing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 149px;">
+<img src="images/oyf119.jpg" width="149" height="150" alt="" />
+<span class="caption">WINNY.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>So Finnette would stand on her hind legs and sing such a droll
+little tune. It sounded like &ldquo;I love&mdash;I love&mdash;I love&mdash;do you?&rdquo;
+Finnette always helped Winny to put her dolls to bed. It was
+wonderful to see her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bring me Grandma Snowhair&rsquo;s cap, Finnette,&rdquo; Winny would
+say. And Finnette would trot off and fetch it. She knew the
+doll&rsquo;s clothes just as well as Winny did.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Finnette, I will have Glorianna&rsquo;s nightgown,&rdquo; said Winny
+again, and Finnette would bring it.</p>
+
+<p>When Winny got her dolls in bed, she always sang them to
+sleep, and then Finnette would sing too. &ldquo;I love&mdash;I love&mdash;I
+love&mdash;do you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mamma used to like to peep in and see them. Winny always
+put her dolls to bed at five o&rsquo;clock. Finnette always knew when
+the clock struck five, and off she would run to find Winny.</p>
+
+<p>But one day she couldn&rsquo;t find her. She searched through the
+house and garden, but Winny was not to be found. So Finnette
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a></span>
+lay down in the library, and waited. Once she got up and
+trotted in and looked at the dolls. She barked softly, as
+though she would say, &ldquo;Be patient; your mamma will be here
+soon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the little mamma did not come; so Finnette concluded to
+put the dolls to bed herself. She laid Grandma Snowhair on the
+floor and then with her teeth and paws she gently drew off her
+cap and gray silk dress. She put on her nightgown, but she
+could not button it.</p>
+
+<p>She undressed Glorianna, but she got her nightgown on upside
+down. She put her legs into the sleeves. She did not try to
+put on aunt Sukey&rsquo;s nightgown. She just wrapped her up in a
+blanket.</p>
+
+<p>She tumbled the four small dolls into their beds anyhow. How surprised
+and pleased and amused
+Winny was when she came
+home! There were the dolls fast
+asleep, and their clothes all
+piled on a chair; and there
+sat Finnette watching them. She
+gave the happiest little &ldquo;bow-wow,&rdquo;
+when she saw Winny. She
+had not been able to eat or to
+sleep with the care of all those
+dolls on her mind. Winny
+hugged and kissed her.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/oyf120.jpg" width="250" height="211" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THERE STOOD&mdash;FINNETTE!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You dear old darling Finnette,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;How sweet you
+have been to my children. You shall have a silver collar, for you
+are my best friend.&rdquo; Then Bridget brought Finnette her supper of
+bread and milk.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2 style="padding-bottom: .75em"><a name="about_the_deer" id="about_the_deer"></a>ABOUT THE DEER.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapl"><span class="dropcap">L</span></span>OOK! look!&rdquo; said Ernest, &ldquo;see the deer! It
+has got out of the deer park. I did not know
+deer could run like that!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The frightened creature was running
+down Washington street. He darted in
+and out among the horses and carriages,
+and people. He leaped over the heads
+of the children.</p>
+
+<p>Ernest and his mother stopped to look;
+everybody stopped to look. On and on
+he ran till he came to the river, then he
+leaped into the deep water and was drowned. Was it not
+a pity? The pretty deer that Ernest had fed so often on Boston Common!
+He almost cried when he thought of it.</p>
+
+<p>How many of you have ever seen deer? In many of the United
+States they are still found in the woods. They are kept in almost all
+public parks.</p>
+
+<p>Deer are gentle creatures, and are easily tamed. But I think
+they are happiest when they are free to roam the woods where they
+like.</p>
+
+<p>They eat the tender grass in the spring, and sometimes, if they live
+near farms, they break into the corn and wheat fields.</p>
+
+<p>In the winter they eat the seed vessels of the wild rose, the hawthorn
+buds, the brambles and leaves. They like acorns, and, in the
+South, they eat the persimmons. The persimmon is a yellow plum.
+They feed in the night.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a></span>
+In hot summer days they like to wade into the ponds and
+rivers, and stand under water, all but their noses.</p>
+
+<p>The young deer are called fawns; they are pretty spotted
+creatures. The mother keeps them in a quiet place where she
+thinks the hunters and dogs cannot get them; for men often
+hunt the wild deer. It is a great pity to kill them for sport, is
+it not?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf121.jpg" width="500" height="357"
+alt="Deer bound across the landscape" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HOW FLEET HE IS!</p>
+
+<p>The deer hears quickly, and his scent is very keen too. When
+the hunters are after him, how fleet he is! Sometimes he leaps
+into the water and swims. Then the dogs lose the scent and
+cannot follow him. The male deer sheds his horns every year.</p>
+
+<p>When the horns are growing they look as if they were
+covered with velvet.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 405px;">
+<img src="images/oyf122.jpg" width="405" height="600"
+alt="A deer and two fawns in woodland" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HAVE THEY NO LANGUAGE?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf123.jpg" width="300" height="129"
+alt="A dog lying down" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="everybodys_dog" id="everybodys_dog"></a>EVERYBODY&rsquo;S DOG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Seen me? Of course you have seen me before.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can&rsquo;t count the times I have been at your door.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where do I live? Why, everywhere, here!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My name? Well, I own it is rather queer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some call me &ldquo;good fellow,&rdquo; or &ldquo;Fido,&rdquo; or &ldquo;Tray,&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I come just the same, whatever they say.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Am I ever lonesome? How can I be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When acquaintances everywhere whistle to me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hungry? That&rsquo;s something I&rsquo;ve never yet known,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For friendly hands toss me sweet bits or a bone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cold? Oh, never! for doors everywhere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are opened to shelter my silky brown hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For <em>I</em> am everybody&rsquo;s dog!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And what do I give for this treatment so kind?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I drive home the lost cattle and sheep that I find;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the children and babies I tenderly play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And faithfully keep them from going astray.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many an ill-natured tramp I have sent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Away from the game on which he was bent.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">I can carry a basket or pail just the same<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As a boy, and better than some I could name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I bark in the night when danger is near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if I&rsquo;m in the house no sleeper need fear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What! be your own dog? Do you think &rsquo;twould be fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To stay here with you when they all need my care?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No; I&rsquo;ll come every day for a minute or two<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now I must go for I&rsquo;ve so much to do;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For <em>I</em> am everybody&rsquo;s dog!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="a_birds_nest" id="a_birds_nest"></a>A BIRD&rsquo;S NEST.</h2>
+
+
+<p>What a wonderful thing a bird&rsquo;s
+nest is! Even the simplest nests
+are very wonderful. Some boys
+and girls collect birds&rsquo; nests, and
+that is very well, if you wait
+till the eggs are hatched, and
+the birds have flown.</p>
+
+<p>The ground sparrow builds a
+lovely little nest; and what a
+curious nest is that of the
+barn swallow.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf124.jpg" width="300" height="249" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A WEAVER BIRD AND HER NEST.</p>
+
+<p>How many of you have seen the nest of the Baltimore oriole?
+She hangs it upon the end of an elm branch, where it swings and
+dances in the wind.</p>
+
+<p>I have for you this time, the nest of an African bird. This
+little bird belongs to the class called weavers. If you look at the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a></span>
+nest, you will understand why this bird is called a weaver bird.</p>
+
+<p>See how skilfully the nest is woven out of twigs, and grasses,
+and fibrous roots. There are many kinds of weaver birds, and each
+kind builds a different nest. Sometime I shall show you another weaver
+bird&rsquo;s nest.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="a_rainy_day" id="a_rainy_day"></a>A RAINY DAY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was the day set for the picnic by the lake. Two little
+white gowns, and the boys&rsquo; best coats, and the ribbons and the
+neck-ties, had been joyfully laid out the night before.</p>
+
+<p>But next morning it was not picnic weather. The sky was
+low and heavy. By nine o&rsquo;clock there were thick, dense, black clouds.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think we might go,&rdquo; said Flossie, &ldquo;even if it does rain.
+We go to school, lots o&rsquo; days, when it rains.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Just then the big black raindrops fell upon the window-panes&mdash;&ldquo;A
+great pailful in every drop,&rdquo; said Tom.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want a picnic,&rdquo; wailed Susie, &ldquo;and I can&rsquo;t have it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You shall have it,&rdquo; said papa; &ldquo;we will have an indoors
+picnic, such as my papa used to give me on a rainy day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He led the way to the library. He took down a huge set of
+maps, a great portfolio of engravings, and two or three heavy
+picture books. &ldquo;We will visit India,&rdquo; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah,&rdquo; said Tom. &ldquo;Tiger hunts, elephant rides, jungles,
+snake charmers, jolly old idols, and the Parsee merchants.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Tom knew very well what it meant when papa gave his mind
+up to turning over picture books and talking as he turned.</p>
+
+<p>They did have a good time; and before three o&rsquo;clock it cleared
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a></span>
+away, and though it was too late for the picnic they had planned,
+it was the most perfect picnic weather, and as papa wanted to
+trim up cedars on the knoll by the lake, they all went down.
+Papa and mamma played with them for a while like an older
+brother and sister. They harnessed the children in a &ldquo;four-horse
+team,&rdquo; and drove up and down until the &ldquo;little colts&rdquo; had had
+enough of fun and were glad to sit in the arbor and watch
+papa trim trees.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf125.jpg" width="500" height="490"
+alt="The family walking along together" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A PICNIC AFTER ALL.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="the_story_of_a_cane" id="the_story_of_a_cane"></a>THE STORY OF A CANE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Was it a shiny black cane with a gold head? No. I think
+you never saw a cane like this one. It was made out of a small
+balm-of-Gilead-tree. It belonged to John Reed. He taught school.
+He was eighteen years old.</p>
+
+<p>When vacation came, John walked home. It was forty miles,
+and a pretty long walk. But there were no railroads in those
+days, and John did not like to ride in a stage-coach.</p>
+
+<p>He thought he could walk more easily with a cane to help
+him. So he made this cane I am going to tell you about.</p>
+
+<p>When he got home he stuck this
+cane into the ground in the lane, and
+then forgot all about it. But the
+cane was alive! When John stuck it
+into the ground it began to drink up
+the water from the soil.</p>
+
+<p>Tiny green leaves sprouted out all
+over it. John saw it one day. How
+surprised he was! It grew all summer
+long. The next year the branches
+began to grow; and year by year it
+grew larger and larger till it was fifty
+years old.</p>
+
+<p>Then John Reed was sixty-eight
+years old; the little children called
+him &ldquo;Grandpa Reed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 235px;">
+<img src="images/oyf126.jpg" width="235" height="400"
+alt="The old man sits by an open window" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GRANDPA REED.</p>
+
+<p>They called the great balm-of-Gilead-tree
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a></span>
+in the lane &ldquo;Grandpa&rsquo;s cane.&rdquo; They used to like to put their
+arms about it and look up into the branches. They thought it
+wonderful that a cane
+should grow into such a
+big tree.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the great
+Civil War. Your mamma
+or auntie can tell you
+about it. There were a
+great many wounded soldiers,
+and the people used
+to send bandages and
+lint for their wounds.
+Do you know what lint
+is? It is made of linen
+cloth. It is soft, like
+wool.</p>
+
+<p>Grandpa Reed had a
+little granddaughter Clara.
+Clara saw the women and
+girls making lint, and
+she wanted to make lint too. But aunt Mary said she was
+not big enough to make lint.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 317px;">
+<img src="images/oyf127.jpg" width="317" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CLARA.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I will tell you,&rdquo; said aunt Mary, &ldquo;where you can find
+some nice lint;&rdquo; and she took her out to the great balm-of-Gilead-tree
+in the lane.</p>
+
+<p>Now you have all seen the soft, white pussy-willows. Well, the
+pussies are the willow flowers; and the balm-of-Gilead-tree has
+pussies too. But they are not soft and white; they are brown.
+They look like brown caterpillars.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a></span>
+After the blossoms wither the seeds come. These seeds are
+covered with wool like that on the dandelion&rsquo;s ball.</p>
+
+<p>The wind blows this wool from off the trees, and there it was
+that morning. The ground was white with it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is the lint,&rdquo; said aunt Mary, and she gave Clara a bag
+to put it in.</p>
+
+<p>It took a great many bits of wool to fill the bag. But
+Clara was patient, and worked diligently, and when the bag
+was full, she went with aunt Mary to carry it to the soldiers&rsquo;
+camp.</p>
+
+<p>Clara gave it to the surgeon. He said the balm-of-Gilead lint
+was much better than the linen lint. So &ldquo;Grandpa&rsquo;s cane&rdquo; and
+little Clara helped the sick soldiers to get well again.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="miss_lollipops_fancies" id="miss_lollipops_fancies"></a>MISS LOLLIPOP&rsquo;S FANCIES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Down by the seashore Miss Lollipop sat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dropping the little white shells in her hat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;See!&rdquo; cried the darling, and shouted with glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;These pretty things were all waiting for me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Waiting for me!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Creeping and curving across the gray sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wavelets came dancing to kiss the fair land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wooing with murmurs the flower-gemmed lea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; cried Miss Pops, &ldquo;they are whispering to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Whispering to me!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a></span>
+<span class="i0">Darting and flashing the gay sunbeams flew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down from a heaven of midsummer blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smiling and dimpling all over the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;There,&rdquo; cried Miss Pops, &ldquo;they are laughing at me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Laughing at me!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the green meadows the tall grass stood fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waving and tossing in sweet summer air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dipping and bending around her white knee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Look,&rdquo; cried Miss Pops, &ldquo;it is bowing to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Bowing to me!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf128.jpg" width="350" height="240"
+alt="Miss Lillipop dropping shells into her hat" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HAPPY MISS LOLLIPOP.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Over the hills the sweet flower bells rang,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High in the tree tops the little birds sang.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&mdash;Tipsy-top bobolinks bent on a spree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Hark!&rdquo; cried Miss Pops. &ldquo;They are singing to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Singing to me!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a></span><span class="i0">Deep in the roses the bumblebees flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sipping their rations of honey and dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With jewel-necked humming-birds gorgeous to see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Now,&rdquo; cried Miss Pops, &ldquo;they are shining for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Shining for me!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweet little Happy Heart! Pure little soul!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth would be robbed of its darkness and dole<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If with the faith of thy heart I could see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How much of God&rsquo;s world is fashioned for me!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="tommys_temptation" id="tommys_temptation"></a>TOMMY&rsquo;S TEMPTATION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Allen&rsquo;s early apples were almost ripe. They were uncommonly
+pretty apples&mdash;yellow, streaked with red. How tempting
+they looked! Ripe apples in August are always tempting.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Allen knew that, so he had put up a sign to warn the
+boys off. For boys were very apt to help themselves to ripe apples.
+Somehow they think that taking a few apples is not stealing.</p>
+
+<p>So, as I said, Mr. Allen put up a board with these words on
+it&mdash;&ldquo;Trespassers prosecuted.&rdquo; That meant, if he caught any boy
+near his apple-tree, he would carry him off to a justice of the
+peace, for stealing.</p>
+
+<p>Early one morning Tommy Tilden was walking through the
+lane. He had just driven the cows to pasture and was coming
+home. He stopped and looked at the apples. How good they did
+look, to be sure!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a></span>
+He searched on the ground to see if any had dropped into
+the lane. But he could not find one. Then he looked at the
+tree again. &ldquo;I wish I had one,&rdquo; he thought.</p>
+
+<p>Ah, Tommy, Tommy, the best thing for you to do is to run
+away as fast as you can!</p>
+
+<p>But Tommy didn&rsquo;t do any such thing. He kept looking at the
+apples and wishing he had one. Then he thought, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll just
+climb up and look at them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And now, of course, you can guess what happened. Tommy
+climbed up, and tried the apples with his thumb to see if they
+were ripe. Then he reached out to get a fine big one, and the
+branch broke, and over he went, with the branch, and the sign,
+and a shower of apples, into Mr. Allen&rsquo;s garden.</p>
+
+<p>The dog ran out barking furiously, and Mr. Allen, who was
+just eating his breakfast, came out too, and little May Allen, to
+see what was the matter.</p>
+
+<p>How ashamed Tommy felt! &ldquo;Trying to steal some of my
+apples, were you, eh?&rdquo; said Mr. Allen, and Tommy could not
+answer a word.</p>
+
+<p>Little May Allen felt very sorry for him. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you give
+him some apples, papa?&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mr. Allen; &ldquo;if he had come and asked me I would
+have given him some gladly. But he ought to be ashamed to try
+to get them in this way. But he can go. I sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t punish
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Tommy picked up his hat and went home. He told his
+mother all about it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tommy,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you shouldn&rsquo;t have stood and looked at
+those apples, and wished for them, when they were not yours. It
+is always best to run away from temptation.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="a_bear_story2" id="a_bear_story2"></a>A BEAR STORY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>When mother was a young girl, she taught school in Illinois.
+Very few people lived there at that time. The settlements were
+far apart. The schoolhouse was built of rough logs, and the
+chinks were filled with clay and straw. Instead of glass windows,
+they had oiled paper to let in the light.</p>
+
+<p>One night mother staid late at the schoolhouse, to help the girls
+trim it with evergreens. It was almost dark when she started for
+home. She walked very fast, as she felt lonely. Her way lay
+through a thick, tall woods, and the path was narrow.</p>
+
+<p>All at once she saw a big animal in front of her. What was
+it? A calf? No; it was a big black bear.</p>
+
+<p>Was she afraid? Of course she was afraid. Shouldn&rsquo;t you be
+afraid if you met a big bear in the woods? She had an umbrella
+in her hand, and she held the point close to the bear&rsquo;s nose, and
+opened and shut it as fast as she could. She called him all the
+bad names she could think of, and he walked off, growling.</p>
+
+<p>He was a brave bear, wasn&rsquo;t he, to be afraid of an umbrella?
+Mother hurried on, and just as she got to the edge of the woods,
+out he came again. Then she opened the umbrella at him again,
+and shouted as loud as she could, and away he went.</p>
+
+<p>Mother was so tired and frightened she almost fainted when
+she got home. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe it was a bear; it must have
+been neighbor Clapp&rsquo;s big heifer,&rdquo; grandma said.</p>
+
+<p>But just as she said it, they heard a loud squeal. They ran to
+the door, and there was the bear carrying off a pig. He had
+jumped into the pen and got it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 399px;">
+<img src="images/oyf129.jpg" width="399" height="600"
+alt="Two adult bears and two cubs next to a tree" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE BEARS AT THE ZO&Ouml;LOGICAL GARDEN.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a></span>
+Aunt Stella seized the dinner horn and blew a loud blast. That
+was the way they used to call the settlers together when anything
+was the matter. There was a great rush for grandfather&rsquo;s house,
+and when the men heard about the bear they said. &ldquo;We must
+kill him as soon as possible.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So they had a great hunt for him. They hunted all that
+night and the next day. They found him, at last, sitting upon
+the stump of a hollow tree, and they killed him.</p>
+
+<p>What do you think they found in the hollow stump? Three
+little cubs. The hunters brought the cubs to grandfather&rsquo;s farm,
+and uncle Stephen kept one of them for a pet.</p>
+
+<p>My little daughter Anna often asks to hear the story of how
+the &ldquo;Bear wanted to eat grandma.&rdquo; Last summer I took Anna
+to the Zo&ouml;logical Garden. There we saw a family of bears.</p>
+
+<p>One old bear was sitting in a tree, with his arms folded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, how pleasant he looks,&rdquo; said Anna. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe he
+would eat anybody.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, I don&rsquo;t think he would,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;He is tame, and he
+would rather have a sweet bun to eat than anything else.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 15%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/oyf130.jpg" width="200" height="198"
+alt="A lizard on a grassy bank" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf131.jpg" width="500" height="319"
+alt="Four ponies playing together" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">SHETLAND PONIES AT HOME.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="annas_birthday_gift" id="annas_birthday_gift"></a>ANNA&rsquo;S BIRTHDAY GIFT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Anna, Anna!&rdquo; shouted Harry. &ldquo;Come quick, do! O such a!&rdquo;&mdash;But
+mamma clapped her hand right over his mouth, and he couldn&rsquo;t
+say another word.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pat, pat, pat!&rdquo; Anna heard a queer sound of feet on the
+veranda, and in at the open windows trotted just the dearest
+little Shetland pony all saddled and bridled. Harry was leading
+it. A card hung from the saddle, and on it was printed, &ldquo;A
+birthday gift for my little Anna, from Grandpa.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There! what do you think of that?&rdquo; asked Harry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think,&rdquo; said Anna, as soon as she could speak, &ldquo;that no
+little girl ever had such a splendid, <em>splendid</em> grandpa as mine!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t he, though!&rdquo; said Harry. &ldquo;And now I&rsquo;ll get out Boy
+Blue and we&rsquo;ll ride over and thank him.&rdquo; Boy Blue is Harry&rsquo;s
+pony.</p>
+
+<p>Do you know where these lovely little Shetland ponies live when
+they are at home? They live in the northern islands of Great
+Britain.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="ralph_and_the_butterflies" id="ralph_and_the_butterflies"></a>RALPH AND THE BUTTERFLIES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 123px;">
+<img src="images/oyf132.jpg" width="123" height="125"
+alt="A butterfly" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="dcaps">R</span>ALPH was walking with papa in the fields,
+when he saw a red and black butterfly. It
+was on a thistle.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will catch him,&rdquo; said Ralph. So he walked
+slowly up to the thistle and put out his hand
+to catch the butterfly. But the butterfly spread
+his wings and flew up in the air. In a moment he came back
+and lighted on the thistle again.</p>
+
+<p>Ralph wanted to try to catch him again, but papa said, &ldquo;The
+butterfly is eating his dinner.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Does he eat the thistle?&rdquo; asked Ralph.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He eats the honey in the thistle,&rdquo; said papa. &ldquo;We will sit
+down and I will show you the honey. Each thistle head has a
+great many tiny flowers. See, like these!&rdquo; and papa pulled some
+of them out. Then he took one of the blossoms between his
+thumb and finger. He pressed the slender tube till Ralph saw a
+wee drop of honey at the end. Then Ralph wanted to do the
+same. So he pressed one after the other of the purple tubes and
+found a drop of honey in each.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Does the butterfly squeeze them that way?&rdquo; asked Ralph.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; he has no thumb and finger,&rdquo; said papa.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How can he get the honey,
+then?&rdquo; Ralph asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He finds it with his long
+sucker, which reaches to the
+bottom of these slender tubes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish he would eat this
+honey, papa, now I have got
+it all ready for him,&rdquo; said
+Ralph. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll ask him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So he walked slowly towards
+the butterfly, holding out
+the little purple blossoms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s some honey all
+squeezed,&rdquo; he said softly;
+&ldquo;don&rsquo;t you want it, Butterfly?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the butterfly opened and
+shut his pretty spotted wings
+and then flew away.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 295px;">
+<img src="images/oyf133.jpg" width="295" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">RALPH.</p>
+
+<p>Ralph looked sorry. &ldquo;Never mind,&rdquo; said papa, &ldquo;he isn&rsquo;t used
+to having little boys wait upon him. He likes to get his
+dinner himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/oyf134.jpg" width="150" height="149"
+alt="Two butterflies" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table class="bright" summary="Untitled poem">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<a name="poem1" id="poem1"></a>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bright the sun! gay the flowers!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Gently falls the rain!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O the jolly, the blithesome hours,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Summer is come again!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Eggs in my nest, snails to eat,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A whole round world for my home,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I sing, I sing, so sweet, so sweet!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Summer again is come!</span><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br />
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A LITTLE BIRD SAT ON A TWIG.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="toms_letter" id="toms_letter"></a>TOM&rsquo;S LETTER.</h2>
+
+
+<p>This is the letter a
+little English boy wrote
+to his American cousin
+whom he never had seen.
+He wrote it on his slate
+in &ldquo;print letters,&rdquo; and
+his sister Bess copied it
+on paper in &ldquo;writing
+letters.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The words were spelled
+wrong on the slate. He
+worked four evenings to
+write it all.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 335px;">
+<img src="images/oyf136.jpg" width="335" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE WAY TOM WROTE IT.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Dear cousin Dick</span>:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You thought I would
+like to write letters because
+I am old like
+you&mdash;ten years. But I am not a school-boy, like you. I am a
+home-boy. I think home-boys don&rsquo;t study regular, and learn truly
+like school-boys. Mother says she will tell your mother in her letter
+about how I have been sick always.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think I would like to be a school-boy, but I wouldn&rsquo;t either.
+School-boys are mean. If the new boy is lame and shy, they
+think that is big fun. <em>I</em> do not see how the tricks can be any
+fun then.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a></span>
+&ldquo;If I was a school-boy I would not think it was fun to trip a
+lame boy up. I would not think it fun to see him splash down
+backward into a pool, and when he soused under and wet his
+lame back ice-cold, I would not call, &lsquo;Cry-baby!&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But that is what the school-boys did that day I went.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So I can&rsquo;t write handsome letters. Do you trick new boys the
+first day they come to your school in America? I have had
+twelve sore throats since, and I wear a scarf in the house.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can knit, and I can mend, and I color pictures. But that is
+not learning as school-boys learn. Girls are good to me, and
+there is a school where they are all girls, but I think I would
+not like to go to it&mdash;would you? Write again.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">&ldquo;Your cousin Tom.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf137.jpg" width="500" height="397"
+alt="A little girl helps Tom away from the bullies" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 419px;">
+<img src="images/oyf138.jpg" width="419" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption red">LADY FLORENCE.&mdash;<i>From the painting by G. A. Storey, A. R. A.</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf139.jpg" width="500" height="356"
+alt="Janey lying on the lounge, looking out the window" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HOW PLEASANT TO LIE ON THE LOUNGE.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="janeys_present" id="janeys_present"></a>JANEY&rsquo;S PRESENT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Janey had been very sick. She had not left her room for a
+month. But she was much better. Why, she was really hungry
+this morning! And here comes mamma with a nice breakfast!
+She looked at the pleasant room while she ate her toast and drank
+her milk.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t such an old, headachy place now,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But please
+open the windows and let all the sickness out.&rdquo; Then mamma put
+on the soft red wrapper and knitted slippers that auntie had made
+for her to wear on this very day. How pleasant it was to lie on
+the lounge with her own dearest doll Belinda Button, tucked away
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a></span>
+under the afghan! She could see the children at play through the
+open window and hear their merry laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mamma,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I am so glad to be well. I want to make
+a present. May I give some things to Bobby&rsquo;s lame sister? Not
+Belinda: she knows how sick I have been, and would not leave
+me. But I want to give her my red leather ball, and white rabbit
+and the picture book cousin George sent me. And mamma, will
+you buy a new dolly who has no mother, for Nellie?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Was not that a kind thought of Janey&rsquo;s? and you may be sure
+Nellie had them.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="good_old_rose" id="good_old_rose"></a>GOOD OLD ROSE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Rose is our old dog. Her hair is as curly as dandelion stems.
+Her tail waves like a great feather duster.</p>
+
+<p>When we say &ldquo;Good dog,&rdquo; it thumps like grandpa&rsquo;s cane when
+he walks up-stairs. Now I will tell you why we call her &ldquo;Good
+old Rose.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>One day papa sent Lily to the store. Lily is six years old.
+The store is just beyond the railroad track.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rose, take care of Lily!&rdquo; said papa. Rose wagged her tail for
+&ldquo;yes, sir!&rdquo; and off they went. She trotted along by Lily&rsquo;s side.
+Lily felt very grand to go to the store all alone. She didn&rsquo;t
+know that Rose was taking care of her.</p>
+
+<p>All at once Rose caught Lily&rsquo;s dress in her teeth. They were
+just going to cross the track.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me go!&rdquo; said Lily. But Rose pulled her back hard. Lily
+looked up and down the track. There was no train in sight. But
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a></span>
+Rose <em>heard</em> it shake the ground. &ldquo;You shall let me go!&rdquo; cried
+Lily. &ldquo;Bad Rose!&rdquo; and she jerked the dress, and tore it out of
+Rose&rsquo;s teeth, and ran. Then Rose jumped right at Lily and
+threw her down on the ground, and dragged her back again.</p>
+
+<p>Just that instant the train thundered round the curve. But
+Lily was safe. How the men in the train cheered! how the
+ladies waved their handkerchiefs! Rose hadn&rsquo;t any handkerchief,
+but she waved her tail, and that is all a dog can do.</p>
+
+<p>Wouldn&rsquo;t you pat her big head too, and call her &ldquo;good old
+Rose?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf140.jpg" width="300" height="231"
+alt="Rose lying down" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GOOD OLD ROSE.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="aunt_pattys_pets" id="aunt_pattys_pets"></a>AUNT PATTY&rsquo;S PETS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Aunt Patty lives in a little bit of a house. It has only two rooms.
+In summer it is covered with vines&mdash;grapevines, morning glories and
+flowering beans. It is cosey as a bird&rsquo;s nest and it is brimful of pets.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 416px;">
+<img src="images/oyf141.jpg" width="416" height="600"
+alt="The kittens look up at the birds" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PANSY AND PICKWICK PAY A VISIT TO THE BIRDS.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a></span>
+If you should call on aunt Patty, just as soon as you stepped
+into the yard, out would fly Gypsy, barking furiously. But he
+would not bite you. O, no! He only barks to let aunt Patty know
+you are coming.</p>
+
+<p>Then, when you opened the door, a sharp little voice would say
+&ldquo;Good-morning! walk in.&rdquo; That is the gray parrot, Nick. As
+you walked into the kitchen, Pansy and Pickwick would come up
+to you and purr, and put up their heads to be rubbed.</p>
+
+<p>In one window you would see two canaries in a cage. In the
+other would be a cage full
+of gay little African birds.</p>
+
+<p>If it were winter there
+would be a cage of big
+birds. But in summer aunt
+Patty keeps these big birds
+in the garden near the
+woodhouse.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf142.jpg" width="350" height="254" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GYPSY.</p>
+
+<p>Where did aunt Patty
+get so many pets? They
+were given to her. Everybody
+knows that she likes
+pets. A sailor cousin once brought her a turtle. It is quite big
+enough for you to ride on. This turtle lives in the cellar in the
+winter, and in the garden in the summer.</p>
+
+<p>Somebody sent her a small alligator once, but she did not keep
+it. She likes pretty pets.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do your pets ever quarrel?&rdquo; I asked aunt Patty once.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never,&rdquo; said aunt Patty. &ldquo;Pansy and Pickwick, and the birds
+and Gypsy, and Methusaleh are all good friends.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Methusaleh is the turtle.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="tommy_and_the_gander" id="tommy_and_the_gander"></a>TOMMY AND THE GANDER.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapt2"><span class="dropcap">T</span></span>OMMY sometimes visits his old nurse. Nurse lives
+in a tiny house and keeps geese. Tommy is
+afraid of the geese. The gander hisses at him
+and Tommy does not like that.</p>
+
+<p>One day Nurse went into the goose-house and
+brought out ten little goslings. Tommy took one
+of them in his hands. How pretty they were with
+their pink feet and fluffy white feathers!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To-morrow, they will go out and eat the tender grass,&rdquo; said
+Nurse.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I shall catch them,&rdquo; said Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The old gander won&rsquo;t let you,&rdquo; said Nurse.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pooh! who&rsquo;s afraid?&rdquo; said Tommy very bravely.</p>
+
+<p>So the next day Tommy tried to catch a gosling. Nurse had
+gone down cellar and the gander was in the goose-house. But
+the mother-goose hissed and the gander heard her and flew out
+of the goose-house after Tommy.</p>
+
+<p>Tommy ran, but the gander caught hold of his clothes and
+began to beat Tommy&rsquo;s legs with his wings. The old goose
+screamed, and Tommy ran and screamed, and the gander ran
+and screamed and whipped. What a noise they made! and Nurse
+ran up from the cellar to see what the matter was.</p>
+
+<p>Just as Tommy went up the steps the gander bit both his
+red stockings. Nurse picked Tommy up and shut the door so the
+gander could not get in. Then she kissed Tommy, and cuddled
+him, and laughed, and said, &ldquo;Who&rsquo;s afraid?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a></span>
+&ldquo;I am,&rdquo; sobbed Tommy. &ldquo;And I want that old gander shut
+up in the barn. He isn&rsquo;t good for anything.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes, he is,&rdquo; said Nurse, &ldquo;he takes care of the goslings.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The next day Tommy saw something very pretty. He was looking
+over the gate. He did not dare to go out for fear the gander
+would bite him
+again. He heard a
+gosling cry &ldquo;peep,
+peep.&rdquo; The goose
+and gander heard
+it too, and ran and
+looked down into a
+deep hole.</p>
+
+<p>Tommy used to
+play this hole was
+his &ldquo;well.&rdquo; Tommy
+saw the gander
+stretch his long
+neck down into the
+hole and lift out
+a little gosling,
+and put it carefully
+on the grass.
+Then the mother
+goose was so
+pleased that she
+screamed outright.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 385px;">
+<img src="images/oyf143.jpg" width="385" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">TOMMY&rsquo;S NURSE.</p>
+
+<p>And Tommy
+screamed too. &ldquo;O Nurse, Nurse, that gander is good for something.
+He lifted a gosling right out of my well. I saw him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 419px;">
+<img src="images/oyf144.jpg" width="419" height="600"
+alt="Tommy peeps over the gate at the geese" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">TOMMY DOES NOT DARE TO GO OUT.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf145.jpg" width="500" height="370" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A VAMPIRE BAT.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="a_night_visitor" id="a_night_visitor"></a>A NIGHT VISITOR.</h2>
+
+
+<p>We were all sitting in the parlor one evening last summer
+when in flew a creature through the open window. Bump&mdash;bump,
+he went against the wall and ceiling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A bat! a bat!&rdquo; shrieked aunt Mary, and ran behind the door.
+Mamma jumped up into a chair and gathered her skirts about her,
+just as though it were a mouse. Grace and Mabel ran out of the
+Room, while papa and Frank and Kate chased the bat.</p>
+
+<p>The poor little bat fluttered about, and almost fell into the
+kerosene lamp chimney. Then he got entangled in the window
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a></span>
+draperies. You know a bat cannot see by a light any more than
+an owl can. He finally tumbled behind the sofa where papa
+caught him.</p>
+
+<p>Mamma then got down from the chair, aunt Mary came out
+from behind the door, Grace and Mabel ventured in, and we all
+gathered about and looked at the bat. How he panted!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Think of being afraid of such a little creature as that,&rdquo; said
+Kate scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But he bites,&rdquo; said Grace. &ldquo;Doesn&rsquo;t he, papa?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think he would bite,&rdquo; said papa. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s a good deal
+more frightened than you were.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What made him fly into the window then?&rdquo; asked Grace.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He is out after insects,&rdquo; replied papa. &ldquo;He was dazzled by the light
+from the window, and flew towards it, as all half-blind creatures
+will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Our little bats, the bats that live in cool countries, do not harm any
+one. But there is a big bat, called the Vampire bat, that will do a good
+deal of mischief, if he can get a chance.</p>
+
+<p>The Vampire bat lives in the tropics. It is very comfortable,
+sleeping out of doors, in the tropics.</p>
+
+<p>A traveller will oftentimes swing his hammock on a tree, and
+sleep in it all night. But he must be careful, and not sleep too
+soundly.</p>
+
+<p>For a Vampire bat may find him; and if he does, he will
+bite the traveller&rsquo;s toe and suck his blood; and when the
+traveller wakes in the morning, he will feel weak and faint from
+loss of blood.</p>
+
+<p>A bat does not perch, and tuck his head under his wing, and sleep
+like a bird. He has some hooks on his wings, and he just hangs himself
+up by those, and that&rsquo;s the way he sleeps!</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="the_night_monkey" id="the_night_monkey"></a>THE NIGHT MONKEY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Isn&rsquo;t this the very
+queerest creature you ever
+saw? He looks as though
+he had a candle in each
+eye; and just look at his
+feet! His eyes are round,
+like the eyes of owls.
+Like the owl, this monkey
+can see well only in the
+night.</p>
+
+<p>These monkeys are called
+night monkeys. Most other
+monkeys have long forelegs,
+but this monkey&rsquo;s
+forelegs are short.</p>
+
+<p>He is very small; his
+body is six inches long,
+his tail is over nine inches.</p>
+
+<p>These little creatures
+sleep in the daytime, and
+go out in search of food,
+and to play in the night.
+They eat insects, lizards
+and crabs.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 296px;">
+<img src="images/oyf146.jpg" width="296" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE NIGHT MONKEY.</p>
+
+<p>They are greedy creatures. They leap at one bound on their prey.
+They live in warm countries. They make very nice pets.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 347px;">
+<img src="images/oyf147.jpg" width="347" height="350"
+alt="Baby waking up" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="babys_nap" id="babys_nap"></a>BABY&rsquo;S NAP.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now Baby&rsquo;s asleep, mamma can sew&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Rock-a-by-baby&mdash;by-lo, by-lo!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baby&rsquo;s asleep and Tommy can tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the cat that was drown&rsquo;d in the great big well.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;She had the weest, <em>teentiest</em> toes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the leastest speck of a blackish nose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With great, great eyes&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Coo, coo! coo, coo!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Baby&rsquo;s awake&mdash;and listening too!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="hurrah_hurrah" id="hurrah_hurrah"></a>HURRAH! HURRAH!</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hurrah for old winter, he&rsquo;s coming at last!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The snow flakes are falling so thick and so fast!<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Hurrah! Hurrah!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My skates I have mended, and painted my sled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, boys, you will soon see this chap go ahead!<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Hurrah! Hurrah!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ve jolly thick mittens, a brand-new fur cap;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, what does it matter if I get a rap?<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Hurrah! Hurrah!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ve got such a secret! We&rsquo;ve built us a fort!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But you must tell no one, &rsquo;twould spoil all our sport.<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Hurrah! Hurrah!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Jack, Clement, and Robbie, are garrison men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we can defend it against any ten.<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Hurrah! Hurrah!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We&rsquo;ve made heaps of snowballs, each one round and hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They&rsquo;re hid away safe in the old schoolhouse yard.<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Hurrah! Hurrah!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pell-mell through the snow rush the merry boy crowd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the bare woodlands echo the hearty and loud<br /></span>
+<span class="i13">Hurrah! Hurrah!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 418px;">
+<img src="images/oyf148.jpg" width="418" height="600"
+alt="Three deer in woodland" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption green">SOMEWHERE IN LEAFY FORESTS THE WILD DEER ROAM AND SLEEP.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="moses_goes_to_a_candy_party" id="moses_goes_to_a_candy_party"></a>MOSES GOES TO A CANDY PARTY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, I <em>won&rsquo;t</em>!&rdquo; said
+Moses. He felt pretty
+cross, for he did hate to
+have his hair cut.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, then,&rdquo; said his
+grandma, &ldquo;you can&rsquo;t go
+to the candy party.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Moses thought a few
+moments, and then he
+jumped up and said, &ldquo;Well,
+grandma, cut it, then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now grandma wasn&rsquo;t
+much of a barber. She
+was apt to cut his hair
+so it hung in scallops.
+But this time she wanted
+to cut it very even, as
+Moses was going to a
+party. So she brought
+out an old wooden bowl
+that just fitted his head.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 321px;">
+<img src="images/oyf149.jpg" width="321" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">MOSES HAS HIS HAIR CUT.</p>
+
+<p>Then she cut his hair
+straight to the edge of
+the bowl, and when she took the bowl off, there it was
+beautifully even, and banged right down over his forehead!</p>
+
+<p>Then he put on the trousers and jacket grandma herself had
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a></span>
+made, and his new shoes, and a blue bow where his collar met,
+and went off to the party. It was Sally Poole&rsquo;s party and Sally
+was one of Moses&rsquo; playmates.</p>
+
+<p>They boiled molasses in a kettle over a fire in the big kitchen
+fireplace; then they poured it into buttered pans and set them
+out in the snow for the candy to cool. It was great fun pulling
+it, and when Moses went home, Sally gave him two sticks
+and a big braided piece.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And I think, Moses,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;your hair is banged beautiful.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="fans_cards_a_christmas_hint" id="fans_cards_a_christmas_hint"></a>FAN&rsquo;S CARDS:&mdash;A CHRISTMAS HINT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>What do you think I did with all my beautiful Christmas
+cards?</p>
+
+<p>I had saved ever and ever so many, and Easter and New
+Year&rsquo;s, and Birthday cards, and a lot of Valentines. I knew I
+would get more this Christmas, so I thought I would give these
+away.</p>
+
+<p>Then I thought I would paste them in a scrapbook, or tack
+them up on the wall instead. Then, I thought I would just keep
+them in a box forever, and show them to my grandchildren;
+but, when aunt Nora told me about the sick children at the hospital,
+then I thought I&rsquo;d give my cards to them. I just made
+up my mind I would, and so I did.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Nora took me to the hospital, and I wore my new red
+cloak and hat. I think I looked sweet, too. The hospital is pretty
+big, and we had to go down a long hall and a long pair of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a></span>
+stairs. I began to be frightened, &rsquo;cause suppose one of the doctors
+made a mistake and thought I was sick!</p>
+
+<p>So I held aunt Nora&rsquo;s hand tight until we came to a big
+room where there were lots of beds and poor little sick boys and
+girls in them. Some more children were playing around, and they
+were sick too. One of
+them, a wee little mite,
+was eating bread and
+molasses, and her face
+was all sticky. She
+wanted to kiss me.</p>
+
+<p>A pretty nurse in a
+white cap came up and
+spoke to us, and aunt
+Nora told her about my
+cards. She said I might
+give them round myself.</p>
+
+<p>So I went up to the
+first cot, and, oh dear!
+there was such a sick
+little girl in it. I asked
+her if she would like a
+card, and she seemed so
+delighted that I gave
+her a beauty, with red
+and white fringe. Then
+all the children said, &ldquo;Gi&rsquo;me one too, lady! Oh, lady! gi&rsquo;me one!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 332px;">
+<img src="images/oyf150.jpg" width="332" height="450"
+alt="Fan and her cards" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;I THINK I LOOKED SO SWEET.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Nobody ever called me &ldquo;lady&rdquo; before, but then I am most
+grown up now. One child there was just as old as I am; only
+he was a boy, and he had a big iron thing on his leg. When I
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a></span>
+gave him a card, he said, &ldquo;Thank you marm, and merry Christmas!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then they all waved their cards and cried &ldquo;Merry Christmas!
+merry Christmas!&rdquo; as I went out of the door.</p>
+
+<p>I hope I&rsquo;ll get ever so many cards this Christmas, so I can
+give them to the hospital children. It&rsquo;s such fun!</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="kittys_tramp" id="kittys_tramp"></a>KITTY&rsquo;S TRAMP.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapo"><span class="dropcap">O</span></span>NE cold day in January Kitty Blake
+had dined with grandma and was on
+her way home through the fields.
+Perhaps you wonder why Kitty
+should walk in the fields when
+the snow was so deep.
+But there was a hard crust
+on the snow and she could
+skip along over it without
+breaking through. It was
+great fun.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she stopped, for there
+in a slight hollow in the snow
+lay a tiny bird.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor little birdie, it must have frozen to death,&rdquo;
+said Kitty softly, and a tear stood in her eye, for she
+has a tender heart for all little creatures. Then she said &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo;
+and gave a start that sent the tears tumbling over her muff
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a></span>
+for just that instant, one of the bird&rsquo;s legs twitched and the tears
+would not stay back.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;P&rsquo;r&rsquo;aps it&rsquo;s still alive, after all;&rdquo; she thought, and she picked it up
+and tucked it into her muff. Her muff was lined with fur.</p>
+
+<p>She reached home quite breathless, and when she took out the
+bird and laid it on mamma&rsquo;s lap, it gave one little &ldquo;Peep!&rdquo;
+stood on its legs, and then flew up into the ivy that ran all
+about the south bay window.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What made it make b&rsquo;lieve dead?&rdquo; asked Kitty.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It didn&rsquo;t make believe,&rdquo; said mamma. &ldquo;I think it was dizzy.
+Birds sometimes are dizzy. But if you had not found it, it would
+soon have frozen to death.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kitty named him &ldquo;The Tramp,&rdquo; and he lived in the bay
+window with mamma&rsquo;s plants. This bay window was shut off
+from the rest of the room by glass doors. It was a sunny and
+fragrant home for the little chickadee, and a lucky bird he was
+to have it just then.</p>
+
+<p>For on the first day of February it began to snow and snowed
+three days, and when it cleared there were piles and piles of
+snow.</p>
+
+<p>Great flocks of birds then came about the house searching
+for food.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We must feed them or they will die,&rdquo; said mamma. &ldquo;The
+snow is so deep they cannot find food.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Kitty scattered meal and hemp seed on the snow and tied
+meaty bones on the lilac and rose bushes, and there wasn&rsquo;t a
+moment of the day when some blue jay, or snow bird, or chickadee,
+or robin, was not picking up grain, or pecking at the bones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is the way to have birds in winter!&rdquo; said Kitty.</p>
+
+<p>The Tramp did not seem to care a fig about his relations
+till one day in March when a flock of chickadees flew past,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"><!-- original location of illustration THE TRAMP VISITS CHARLEY --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a></span>
+and he fluttered against the windows and begged to be let out.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 444px;">
+<img src="images/oyf151.jpg" width="444" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE TRAMP VISITS CHARLEY.</p>
+
+<p>Mamma opened the window and off he flew! Kitty sighed and
+said, &ldquo;That is the last of him, I suppose.&rdquo; But it wasn&rsquo;t.</p>
+
+<p>One sunny May day Charley was sitting up in bed. Charley is
+Kitty&rsquo;s brother. He had
+been sick and the window
+was open so he could
+breathe the soft spring
+air. Suddenly a bird
+dropped upon the window
+sill and began to whistle
+&ldquo;Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!&rdquo; so
+blithely and cock his head
+at Charley.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s the Tramp!&rdquo; said
+Charley; and sure enough
+it was! After that
+he came almost every
+day. If the window was
+shut they opened it for
+him. Charley used to hide
+hemp seed and sugar under
+the edge of the pillows for
+the Tramp to find. He always
+found it. Sometimes
+he would tie sugar up in a paper and the Tramp would peck at
+it until he got it out.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 338px;">
+<img src="images/oyf152.jpg" width="338" height="450" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE TRAMP&rsquo;S HOME.</p>
+
+<p>He would perch on Charley&rsquo;s shoulder and eat seeds from his
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p>He wanted to build a nest in an old letter box nailed up against
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a></span>
+a wall. Ever so many birds, blue birds, wrens and sparrows
+wanted to build in that box too.</p>
+
+<p>The Tramp was a brave little fellow and a good fighter; but he
+never would have driven the birds off, if Kitty hadn&rsquo;t helped
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I love all the birds,&rdquo; said Kitty, &ldquo;but the Tramp is my very
+own bird.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So he and his mate built a nest and raised a family of birds
+in peace, and now Kitty and Charley call the old letter-box &ldquo;The
+Tramp&rsquo;s Home.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf153.jpg" width="500" height="348" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption green">A PAIR OF HORSES.&mdash;<i>From Rosa Bonheur&rsquo;s painting, &ldquo;The Horse Fair.&rdquo;</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf154.jpg" width="500" height="494" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CHILDREN OF CHARLES I.&mdash;<i>From the sketch by Verspronck, in the Louvre.</i></p>
+
+<h2><a name="three_royal_children" id="three_royal_children"></a>THREE ROYAL CHILDREN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Here is a picture of a little prince and two little princesses
+who lived about two hundred years ago. They were the children
+of Charles the First, king of England. I suppose they were very
+much like the boys and girls of nowadays. They played and
+studied and had their pets, just as children play and study now.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 415px;">
+<img src="images/oyf155.jpg" width="415" height="600"
+alt="A boy watches over a flock of turkeys" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption green">READY FOR THANKSGIVING.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="an_ostrich_plume" id="an_ostrich_plume"></a>AN OSTRICH PLUME.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Matty Ellis had a new hat. It was a pretty white hat with
+a long, curly white plume, and it was very becoming to her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I like it,&rdquo; she said to
+aunt Sarah. &ldquo;But Nanny Rich
+has a hat with two plumes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And I can tell you somebody
+who wears half a dozen
+or more,&rdquo; replied aunt Sarah,
+&ldquo;and that somebody
+is the ostrich
+himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf156.jpg" width="300" height="172" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">OSTRICH EGGS.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Sarah tells Matty a great many interesting
+things, and she told her about ostriches. She told
+how they live in hot sandy countries like
+Africa.</p>
+
+<p>They are so tall and have such long legs they
+can run as fast as, or faster than, a horse.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 352px;">
+<img src="images/oyf157.jpg" width="352" height="450" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A PAIR OF OSTRICHES AT HOME.</p>
+
+<p>They have their nests in a hollow on the ground.
+The Hottentot likes ostrich eggs to eat. One ostrich
+egg is as big as sixteen hen&rsquo;s eggs. So it makes
+a breakfast for a number
+of people. The Hottentot
+breaks a hole in
+the small end of the egg,
+stirs up the contents with
+a stick, and then sets it
+over the fire to cook.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a></span>
+The shell is very thick and hard, and the heat of the fire will
+not break it.</p>
+
+<p>There is somebody else who likes ostrich eggs too, and that somebody
+is a kind of fox. He comes when the ostrich is away and
+helps himself. Sometimes the ostrich comes home and finds him at it.</p>
+
+<p>Many other people like to wear ostrich plumes as well as
+Matty. So there is a large trade in them. The wild ostrich does
+not supply feathers enough
+for the market, so ostriches
+are now raised like
+turkeys and hens. This
+business is called &ldquo;ostrich
+farming.&rdquo; The ostriches
+are kept in large yards,
+and the plumes are taken
+out every year.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Sarah told all this
+to Matty. &ldquo;And so,&rdquo; said
+Matty, stroking the long
+white plume, &ldquo;this feather has ridden on the back of an ostrich
+in Africa; I wish it could tell me what it has seen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf158.jpg" width="350" height="259"
+alt="Two foxes try to take an ostrich egg" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">SOMEBODY ELSE WHO LIKES EGGS.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="who_killed_the_goose" id="who_killed_the_goose"></a>WHO KILLED THE GOOSE?</h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/oyf159.jpg" width="150" height="130"
+alt="A dog wrapped in a quilt" />
+</div>
+
+<p>It was the very nicest, whitest goose of the whole flock, and
+there it was&mdash;dead! Who had killed it? was the question. Everybody
+said it must have been Bose; and why? Because Bose liked
+to tease the geese. Sometimes he jumped from behind a bush
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a></span>
+and frightened them. Sometimes when they were standing at their
+trough eating, he ran at them, just for the fun of seeing them run.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/oyf160.jpg" width="150" height="128"
+alt="A dog in a basket" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think he meant to kill it,&rdquo; said
+the grandpa.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very likely not,&rdquo; said the father, &ldquo;but I
+must teach him not to run at the geese. Come
+here, sir,&rdquo; he said to Bose.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 97px;">
+<img src="images/oyf161.jpg" width="97" height="125"
+alt="A dog with a blanket wrapped around him" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Bose felt very badly. He crawled slowly
+along. He couldn&rsquo;t say, &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t do it; please don&rsquo;t whip me,&rdquo;
+as a little boy or girl can. He could only
+look up to his master with soft, begging
+eyes. But little Patsy was looking in at
+the door. Little Patsy loves Bose dearly;
+and of all the family Bose best loves
+Patsy. They are always playing together.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 113px;">
+<img src="images/oyf162.jpg" width="113" height="125"
+alt="A dog sitting" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, please don&rsquo;t whip Bose,&rdquo; cried
+Patsy. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe he did it. Nobody saw him do it,&rdquo; and
+she begged so hard her father said he would only tie
+Bose up. He would not whip him till he was sure
+he had killed the goose. That night Patsy cried herself
+to sleep. It almost broke her heart to think
+that on the morrow Bose might have to be whipped.
+Suddenly in the night she heard a queer, soft voice say, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+believe he did it. I wouldn&rsquo;t kill a goose.&rdquo; Patsy
+opened her eyes and found herself in a room full
+of dogs. The voice came from a wee doggie
+wrapped in an eider down quilt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good reason why; you couldn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; barked
+another little fellow. He had a head that looked as if it were
+bald, and large soft ears, and he was peeping out of a basket.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/oyf163.jpg" width="600" height="421"
+alt="Bose crawls towards Father" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PROSPECTIVE PUNISHMENT.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/oyf164.jpg" width="150" height="105"
+alt="A fluffy dog" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Raw goose, faugh!&rdquo; said a dainty doggie,
+who had a blanket pinned carefully around him.
+&ldquo;I like my poultry well picked and cooked.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s so. So do I,&rdquo; rejoined a fierce
+scrap of a dog. He wore a collar and little
+silver locket, and cocked his ears.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;People are always saying dogs do things,&rdquo; said a tousled terrier,
+whose hair had tumbled over his eyes, so he couldn&rsquo;t see a
+thing. &ldquo;The cat ate the cream the other day and cook said I
+did it. I hate cooks.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 175px;">
+<img src="images/oyf165.jpg" width="175" height="122"
+alt="A dog lying down" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A grave-looking dog opened his mouth and spoke. He must
+have been a lawyer among dogs. Patsy
+thought he looked like Judge Drake. He
+spoke slowly. &ldquo;If Bose had never chased
+the geese even in play, his master would
+never have suspected him. A great deal
+depends on a dog&rsquo;s character. But I don&rsquo;t think he killed the goose.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I <em>know</em> he didn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; spoke up a big splendid dog. &ldquo;Bose is a
+good fellow!&rdquo; Then all the dogs barked out, &ldquo;Hear! hear!&rdquo; so
+loudly that Patsy awoke. The dogs had vanished; the morning
+sun was shining. She heard her father call, &ldquo;Patsy, come and
+see the fox! We&rsquo;ve trapped the rogue. It was he that killed the
+goose!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf166.jpg" width="350" height="230"
+alt="A dog lying down" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf167.jpg" width="500" height="422"
+alt="The baker and friends offer beer to the horse" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="a_temperance_horse" id="a_temperance_horse"></a>A TEMPERANCE HORSE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>He belongs to a baker. His master went into a restaurant to deliver
+some pies. I was sitting at a window opposite. He stayed so
+long in the place that I thought he had forgotten his faithful beast.</p>
+
+<p>After a while he came out carrying a great mug full of foaming
+beer. There were two other men with him. All their faces were
+red, and they walked unsteadily, and they were laughing loud, and
+shouting. Then the baker went up to his beautiful horse, and offered
+him the beer to drink.</p>
+
+<p>Do you suppose he took it? No, indeed! He gave it one sniff
+from his smooth, brown nostrils. Then he turned his head away with
+a jerk so sudden that he knocked the glass, beer and all, upon the
+pavement. He looked at his master as if to say, &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t insult me
+again in that way, sir!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So his bad master had to pay for both the beer and the glass.</p>
+
+<p>Wise old horse, he was not afraid to give his opinion of beer.</p>
+
+<p class="author">CLARA J. DENTON.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="how_the_wind_blows" id="how_the_wind_blows"></a>
+<img src="images/oyf168.jpg" width="500" height="230"
+alt="Decorative title - How The Wind Blows - with two children flying kites"
+title="How The Wind Blows" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">High and low<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The spring winds blow!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They take the kites that the boys have made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And carry them off high into the air;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They snatch the little girls&rsquo; hats away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And toss and tangle their flowing hair.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">High and low<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The summer winds blow!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They dance and play with the garden flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And bend the grasses and yellow grain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They rock the bird in her hanging nest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And dash the rain on the window-pane.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf169.jpg" width="500" height="235"
+alt="A garden with beehives" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf170.jpg" width="500" height="213"
+alt="Haystacks in a field" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">High and low<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The autumn winds blow!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They frighten the bees and blossoms away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And whirl the dry leaves over the ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They shake the branches of all the trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And scatter ripe nuts and apples around.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">High and low<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The winter winds blow!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They fill the hollows with drifts of snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sweep on the hills a pathway clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They hurry the children along to school,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And whistle a song for the happy New Year.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">M. E. N. H.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf171.jpg" width="500" height="237"
+alt="Children in a snowy field" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="dime_and_betty" id="dime_and_betty"></a>DIME AND BETTY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Bow-wow! Who are you? I am only a little dog. My name
+is Dime. I am not a cross dog. I have been a pet dog all my
+life. Shall I tell you what I can do? I can sit up and beg. I can
+shake hands. I can jump over a stick, O yes; and I can run very
+fast. I can run as fast as Pomp, the baker&rsquo;s dog; and Pomp is a
+big dog.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf172.jpg" width="500" height="301"
+alt="Dime and Pomp racing each other" />
+</div>
+
+<p>I like to run races with Pomp. He never bites a little dog. We
+like to run after birds. But we never catch any birds. They fly
+away when we come near. I wonder how the birds fly. Pomp
+and I cannot fly.</p>
+
+<p>My master has a cow. Her name is Betty. She is a good cow.
+She gives nice, white milk. I do not care much for milk. I like
+a bone better. But old Tab, the cat, likes milk. I like to see Tab
+drink milk. She laps it up very fast.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a></span>
+I drive Betty to pasture every day. John goes with me to shut
+the gate. John is the boy who milks the cow. I wish I could open
+and shut that gate. Then John would not go to the pasture. I
+should like to go all alone. I think it would be fine.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 416px;">
+<img src="images/oyf173.jpg" width="416" height="550"
+alt="Driving Betty to pasture" />
+</div>
+
+<p>I take good care of Betty. When any one comes near her, I
+say, &ldquo;Bow-wow&rdquo; very sharply.</p>
+
+<p class="author">S. E. SPRAGUE.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf174.jpg" width="500" height="345"
+alt="Bobby and the ram" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="saved_from_freezing_to_death" id="saved_from_freezing_to_death"></a>SAVED FROM FREEZING TO DEATH.</h2>
+
+
+<p>When Bobby Smart was six years old, he was left to the care of
+his Uncle James, who lived in the country. His aunt took him to his
+future home, and at the depot he saw his uncle for the first time.</p>
+
+<p>Bobby was lonely and sad; his uncle often treated him with
+harshness and even cruelty. The cold winter had come on early.
+Bobby was the only boy about the farm, and he had to work
+very hard. His clothing was unfit for the winter weather, and he
+often suffered from the cold.</p>
+
+<p>Among the duties which this poor boy had to perform was that
+of tending a flock of sheep. One afternoon, when there were signs
+of a snow-storm, he was sent to drive the flock to the barn. He
+started for the field, but his clothes were so thin that he was benumbed
+by the intense cold. He sat down on a large rock to rest
+himself. He felt strangely tired and cold. In a little while he
+began to feel drowsy. Then he thought it was so nice and comfortable
+that he would stay there awhile. In a very few moments
+he was asleep, and perhaps dreaming.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he was aroused by a tremendous blow which sent him
+spinning from his perch on the rock to the ground. Looking about
+him, he saw an old ram near by. The creature looked as though he
+had been doing mischief, and Bobby was no longer at a loss to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a></span>
+know where the blow came from; but he thought the attack was an
+accident, and in a short time he was again in the land of Nod.</p>
+
+<p>Again the ram very rudely tumbled him over into the snow.
+He was now wide awake, and provoked at the attack of the beast.
+He began to search for a stick to chastise his enemy. The ram
+understood his intention, for he turned upon Bobby as if to finish
+the poor boy. Bobby was forced to take to his heels, and ran
+towards home.</p>
+
+<p>The ram chased him, while the rest of the flock followed after
+their leader. The inmates of the farm-house were surprised to see
+Bobby rushing towards the house as fast as his little legs would
+allow him. His hair was streaming in the wind, and he was very
+much terrified. Close upon him was the old ram, kicking up his
+heels in his anger. Behind him could be seen a straggling line of
+sheep doing their best to keep up.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf175.jpg" width="500" height="274"
+alt="The ram chases Bobby" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Bobby won the race, however. His uncle came out in time to
+turn the flock into the barn. It was a long time before Bobby
+would venture near the ram again.</p>
+
+<p>Bobby knows now that but for the efforts of that old ram in
+knocking him from his seat on that bitterly cold day he would have
+been among the angels in a very short time. The sleepy feeling
+which overcame him would have ended in death.</p>
+
+<p>Bobby declares that the ram knew all the time what ailed him,
+and that he butted him from the rock on purpose. I cannot explain
+it, but do know that &ldquo;God moves in a mysterious way his wonders
+to perform.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="author">MRS. F. GREENOUGH.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="lilys_garden" id="lilys_garden"></a>
+<img src="images/oyf176.jpg" width="500" height="361"
+alt="Decorative title - Lily&#39;s Garden - showing Lily and a vase of dandelions"
+title="Lily&#39;s Garden" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>There was only a little piece of garden
+belonging to Lily&rsquo;s home in the city. In
+the bright spring days she went out there,
+and watched to see if any flowers came up.
+She felt happy when she found the first
+blades of grass.</p>
+
+<p>The poet sings that &ldquo;his heart dances with the daffodils.&rdquo; Lily&rsquo;s
+heart danced, one morning, when she found a dandelion among the
+grasses in her yard,&mdash;a real yellow dandelion, with all its golden
+petals spread out.</p>
+
+<p>Just then, one of her playmates looked over the fence, and put
+out her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do give it to me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t like you a bit, if you
+don&rsquo;t: I shall think you are just as stingy&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But it&rsquo;s all I have,&rdquo; said Lily; &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t give it away. I can&rsquo;t.
+Wait till to-morrow, and there&rsquo;ll be some more out. They&rsquo;re growing.
+There&rsquo;ll be some all round to-morrow or next week.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To-morrow! I want it now, to-day,&rdquo; said her friend, &ldquo;to-day&rsquo;s
+better than to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lily looked at the child and then at the dandelion. &ldquo;I suppose
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a></span>
+it would be mean to keep it,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but it is so lovely&mdash;<em>can&rsquo;t</em>
+you wait?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, well, keep it, you stingy girl!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf177.jpg" width="500" height="509"
+alt="The little girl asks for the dandelion" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come and pick it yourself, then,&rdquo; said Lily, with tears in her
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, when Lily went into the yard, there were a dozen
+golden dandelions, like stars in the grass, and a little blue violet
+was blooming all alone by itself.</p>
+
+<p class="author">MARY N. PRESCOTT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="where" id="where"></a>WHERE?</h2>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table class="where" summary="Poem">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br />
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">Where is the honey-bee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Where has the swallow flown?<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Only the chickadee<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Chirrups his song alone.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">Where is the bobolink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Bubbling with merriment?<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">What was the road, think,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The gadding fire-fly went?<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">Whither flew the little wings<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Grown in green forest aisles?<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Where are the pretty things<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That blossomed miles on miles?<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">MARY N. PRESCOTT.</p>
+</div>
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf179.jpg" width="500" height="415"
+alt="The goat on the railroad track" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="a_goat_in_trouble" id="a_goat_in_trouble"></a>A GOAT IN TROUBLE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>A few weeks ago, as I was crossing a railroad track just outside
+of the city, a little goat stepped before me. With a sad cry, she
+seemed to ask me to stop. I turned aside to pass on, but she kept
+brushing against me, until I finally decided to find out what she
+wanted.</p>
+
+<p>The goat had wandered from her usual browsing place. In crossing
+the railroad track she had caught her chain on a rail, and could
+not get away. I stooped down and let her loose. Then she pressed
+against me as if to thank me, and bounded off quickly to her old
+pasture.</p>
+
+<p>If we would always listen to the cries of animals in distress, we
+might do a great deal of good. Just after I had released the goat, a
+train of cars came rushing along, and she would certainly have been
+killed if I had not attended to her.</p>
+
+<p class="author">L. B. P.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 351px;">
+<img src="images/oyf180.jpg" width="351" height="500"
+alt="The bird singing" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="a_negro_melodist" id="a_negro_melodist"></a>A NEGRO MELODIST.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It has often been remarked that in
+the bird world the rule is for the males
+to have the brilliant plumage, with all
+the beautiful
+colors and for
+the females
+to be the
+dowdy ones&mdash;a
+rule which
+would entail
+a revolution
+in fashions,
+startling and
+ludicrous, if
+it were to be
+introduced
+for variety
+among our
+own kind.
+Again, gaily-dressed
+birds
+have the least
+pleasing song&mdash;the
+screaming
+jay bearing
+an unfavorable
+comparison
+with
+the thrush&mdash;and
+the modestly-attired
+nightingale having furnished,
+in all ages, a brilliant example
+of virtue unadorned. The nightingale,
+however, leaving before the climate has
+become objectionable, we must praise
+its musical accomplishments rather as
+being those of a distinguished guest, or
+foreign <i>prima donna</i>, than of an indigenous
+artist. But we have another
+bird who <em>is</em> always here, facing winter&rsquo;s
+blasts in addition to summer&rsquo;s bloom,
+who in voice stands unrivaled; no competitor
+approaching any where near
+him for fluency, richness, and liquid
+melody of song&mdash;to wit, the blackbird.</p>
+
+<p>This negro melodist seldom spares
+his lungs at all until winter is far advanced
+into its New Year months;
+and even amid the bitter mornings of
+January, his rich, unfaltering notes can
+sometimes be heard. His coat is a
+glossy black, always cleanly brushed,
+and in the case of one family, sometimes
+called the &ldquo;Red-wing,&rdquo; with a
+gorgeous scarlet lapel on either side.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="time_enough" id="time_enough"></a>TIME ENOUGH.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two little rabbits out in the sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One gathered food, the other had none.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Time enough yet,&rdquo; his constant refrain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Summer is still just on the wane.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Listen, my child, while I tell you his fate:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He roused him at last, but he roused him too late.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down fell the snow from a pitiless cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gave little rabbit a spotless white shroud.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two little boys in a school-room were placed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One always perfect, the other disgraced.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Time enough yet for my learning,&rdquo; he said;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I will climb by-and-by, from the foot to the head.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Listen, my darling&mdash;their locks are turned gray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One, as a governor, sitteth to-day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The other, a pauper, looks out at the door<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the alms-house, and idles his days as of yore.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two kinds of people we meet every day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One is at work, the other at play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Living uncared for, dying unknown.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The busiest hive hath ever a drone.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tell me, my child, if the rabbits have taught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lesson I longed to impart in your thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Answer me this, and my story is done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which of the two will you be, little one?<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="the_mouse_wedding" id="the_mouse_wedding"></a>THE MOUSE WEDDING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Dick Sly was the smartest mouse in
+Mousetown. He knew any kind of a
+new trap that was set to catch him, and
+he always warned the rest. The houses
+in Mousetown are called &ldquo;holes,&rdquo; you
+know. Next to the hole where Dick
+lived with his parents was the hole
+where pretty Nan Spry lived. She
+could run faster than any mouse in
+Mousetown; even Dick could not
+catch her, if she tried to run away
+from him. At last it was told in Mousetown
+that Dick and Nan were to be
+married, and every body said, &ldquo;What a
+grand pair they&rsquo;ll make.&rdquo; Judge Mouse,
+who married them, put on his best
+gold spectacles, and they were married
+on a big wedding cake, which some
+folks called a &ldquo;cheese.&rdquo; Every one in
+Mousetown had a bit of it, and declared
+it to be the best wedding cake
+they had ever eaten.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2 class="smcap"><a name="she_had_never_seen_a_tree" id="she_had_never_seen_a_tree"></a>She had never seen a Tree.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They took the little London girl, from out the city street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To where the grass was growing green, the birds were singing sweet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every thing along the road, so filled her with surprise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The look of wonder fixed itself, within her violet eyes.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The breezes ran to welcome her; they kissed her on each cheek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tried in every way they could, their ecstacy to speak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inviting her to romp with them, and tumbling up her curls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Expecting she would laugh or scold, like other little girls.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But she didn&rsquo;t&mdash;no she didn&rsquo;t; for this crippled little child<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had lived within a dingy court, where sunshine never smiled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for weary, weary days and months, the little one had lain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Confined within a narrow room, and on a couch of pain.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The out-door world was strange to her&mdash;the broad expanse of sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soft, green grass, the pretty flowers, the stream that trickled by;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all at once she saw a sight, that made her hold her breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shake and tremble as if she were frightened near to death.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, like some horrid monster, of which the child had dreamed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With nodding head, and waving arms, the angry creature seemed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It threatened her, it mocked at her, with gestures and grimace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That made her shrink with terror, from its serpent-like embrace.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They kissed the trembling little one; they held her in their arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tried in every way they could to quiet her alarms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said, &ldquo;Oh, what a foolish little girl you are, to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So nervous and so terrified, at nothing but a tree!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They made her go up close to it, and put her arms around<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The trunk, and see how firmly it was fastened in the ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They told her all about the roots, that clung down deeper yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And spoke of other curious things, she never would forget.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, I have heard of many, very many girls and boys<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who have to do without the sight, of pretty books and toys&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who have never seen the ocean; but the saddest thought to me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is that any where there lives a child, who never saw a tree.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="a_funny_horse" id="a_funny_horse"></a>A FUNNY HORSE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Knock! Knock! Knock! I&rsquo;ve been before this block<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">More than half an hour, I should say;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am standing in the sun, while Miss Lucy lingers on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Talking of the fashions of the day.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It is a trick you know, she taught me long ago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But now I am in earnest, not in play;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the world is very wide, to a horse that isn&rsquo;t tied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I&rsquo;ve a mind to go and ask the price of hay.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There&rsquo;s a nail in my shoe that needs fixing too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I want a drink more than I can say;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How I could run, with my dandy harness on!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But it&rsquo;s such a mean thing to run away.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rap! Tap! Tap! That&rsquo;s enough to break a nap&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There she comes, and is laughing at the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I brought her to the door, when she wouldn&rsquo;t come before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That&rsquo;s a trick worth playing any day.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="mrs_gimsons_summer_boarders" id="mrs_gimsons_summer_boarders"></a>MRS. GIMSON&rsquo;S SUMMER BOARDERS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was recess at the school-house at
+the cross roads, and three country girls
+gathered round a companion, whose
+unhappy face showed that something
+had gone wrong.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is this your last day at school,
+Lucindy?&rdquo; asked Carrie Hess, a girl
+of fifteen, and the eldest of the three
+sisters.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, this is my last day, thanks to
+the summer boarders. I can&rsquo;t bear to
+think of them. I hate them!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will you have to work harder than
+you do now?&rdquo; asked Freda, who was
+next younger to Carrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t mind the work so much as I
+do their impudent airs, and their
+stuck-up ways. I wont be ordered
+around, and if Auntie thinks I&rsquo;m going
+to be a black slave, she&rsquo;ll find she&rsquo;s
+mistaken.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lucindy&rsquo;s face flushed, and she appeared
+to be greatly in earnest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d be glad to have them come to
+our house, they have such nice clothes,&rdquo;
+said Lena, the youngest and most mischievous.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, it&rsquo;s very nice, I must say, to
+go around in old duds, and have a girl
+that&rsquo;s not a whit better in any way
+than you, only she&rsquo;s been to a city
+school and has a rich father, turn up her
+nose at you, and perhaps make fun of
+you, with her white dresses and her
+silk dresses, and her gaiter boots.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t we come to your house any
+more? Can&rsquo;t we come to play?&rdquo; asked
+Carrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, can&rsquo;t we come?&rdquo; said the other
+two, almost in a breath.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, Auntie told me this morning,
+that I must tell you and the rest of the
+girls, that it wouldn&rsquo;t be convenient to
+have you come, as you have done; you
+are not stylish enough for Miss Hattie
+Randolph to associate with, I suppose.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The girls looked really disappointed.
+Lucindy was a great favorite, and a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a></span>
+leader, fearless and successful in all escapades
+that required originality and
+coolness, and her company would be
+sorely missed. Her aunt had indulged
+her in all the dress and amusement she
+could afford, and her companions had
+always been welcome to visit at the
+house, but now there was a necessity
+for her services, and play could not be
+indulged in so often for the rest of the
+summer, as the household needed the
+avails, if not the presence of summer
+boarders.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is she older than we?&rdquo; asked Carrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, but she&rsquo;s lived all her life in
+the city, and feels above everybody.
+She and her brother and her mother
+will just take possession of our piazza
+and door-yard, and our swing; and I
+can wash dishes, and sit on the back
+door-step, and never see a girl from
+one month&rsquo;s end to another.&rdquo; Here
+Lucindy burst out crying.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s too bad,&rdquo; said Carrie.</p>
+
+<p>The little Lena, ever fertile in invention,
+crept near, and putting her arms
+around Lucindy&rsquo;s neck, whispered:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll come to see you on the sly,
+and we can go down in the fields and
+have fun, when your Auntie goes out
+for an afternoon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish you would,&rdquo; said Lucindy.
+&ldquo;And I&rsquo;ll bring down some cake and
+pickles, and some honey, and we&rsquo;ll
+have a pic-nic in spite of Mrs. Randolph!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was a solution of the unhappy
+problem, and it seemed to throw a ray
+of sunlight slantwise into the gloomy
+picture of the coming summer.</p>
+
+<p>The progress of the afternoon at
+the school-house was not marked by
+any unusual occurrence, and at the
+close, the little company of schoolmates
+proceeded together, until they came
+to the road leading to Lucindy&rsquo;s home.
+Here they parted, with many professions
+of everlasting friendship; Lucindy,
+walking backwards, watched her
+companions until the turn in the road
+hid them from view.</p>
+
+<p>Then she sat down upon a bank by
+the roadside under an old tree. Throwing
+her slate and books down on the
+grass, she snatched a few daisies that
+grew near, and thought of many things
+of a disquieting nature, pulling the flowers
+to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I feel mad enough to run away!&rdquo;
+she thought. &ldquo;I could earn my living
+easy enough in the city, and not have
+to work so hard either. Miss Hunter
+can&rsquo;t teach me any thing more. I&rsquo;ve
+learned all she knows. It&rsquo;s just too
+bad not to be able to get more education.
+I&rsquo;ll just take my own way, if
+Auntie crowds me too much. I don&rsquo;t
+care if she don&rsquo;t like it. If my father
+and mother were alive, she wouldn&rsquo;t
+be my boss. I can get on in another
+place with what I know about a good
+many things.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But oh, that girl that&rsquo;s coming has
+so much better times than I. Those
+lovely city schools! no one can help
+learning there, they take such pains
+with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She looked down the road upon which
+the slanting red light of the declining
+sun was shining, and there she saw a
+cloud of dust. This road was not a
+great thoroughfare, and she knew that
+was the stage, and it probably would
+bring the undesired summer guests.</p>
+
+<p>She shrank visibly back into the
+shadow of the tree as it came on, and
+smoothed out her faded calico dress and
+pulled her sun-bonnet farther over her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>The coach came rolling past, and a
+girl in the back seat directed the attention
+of a fashionably-dressed lady to
+herself, she thought, and laughed as
+though immensely pleased, at the same
+time pointing at her. A little boy,
+who sat in the front seat with the
+driver, and who was playing upon a
+harmonica, stopped, and looking in her
+direction, laughed too.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s my outlandish sun-bonnet
+they&rsquo;re making fun of,&rdquo; she thought.
+&ldquo;I suppose this is the beginning of
+it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 399px;">
+<img src="images/oyf181.jpg" width="399" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">SHE SAT DOWN ON A BANK BY THE ROADSIDE UNDER AN OLD TREE.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a></span>
+Now this ungentle girl was mistaken
+in her surmise, as she was about many
+things that caused her unhappiness.
+What the people in the stage were
+really interested and amused with were
+a couple of lambs in the field back of
+Lucindy, and their playful gyrations
+were a novel sight to them, and they
+had come for the very purpose of being
+pleased with country sights and experiences.
+Lucindy felt sure these were
+the summer boarders, and, taking a
+short cut across the fields, arrived at her
+aunt&rsquo;s just as the guests were alighting.</p>
+
+<p>Lucindy stood at the back corner of
+the house, and heard the sprightly talk
+of Mrs. Randolph and the merry laugh
+of the daughter, as her aunt bade them
+welcome, and she knew they were being
+conducted to the upper rooms that had
+been prepared with such thoughtful reference
+to their comfort.</p>
+
+<p>Her aunt came down very soon, and
+seeing Lucindy, bade her wash her
+hands and smooth her hair, and put on
+a white apron, and prepare to get ready
+the tea. This duty Lucindy had always
+done, and a little curiosity, mingled
+with her other feelings, came to her, as
+to how the boarders would like her
+aunt&rsquo;s puffy biscuit, and if the cold
+custard and raspberry jam wouldn&rsquo;t be
+to their taste. If coffee and fricasseed
+chicken would not be just the thing
+after an all-day ride, and remarked to
+herself: &ldquo;If they don&rsquo;t like such fare,
+let them go where they&rsquo;ll get better.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The tea passed off with great good
+feeling; the new people making a most
+favorable impression upon her aunt, and
+impressing Lucindy with the discovery
+that polite manners were a recommend
+to strangers, for her aunt made gratified
+remarks from time to time as she came
+into the kitchen. Lucindy would not
+wait upon the table the first evening, a
+convenient head-ache being the excuse.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Gimson was a most kindly disposed
+person, and endeavored, in every
+way, to make the time pass pleasantly
+to her guests; but all she could say in
+their favor did nothing toward disposing
+the mind of her niece to regard
+them with any toleration. She performed
+the household duties that fell
+to her with a stolid indifference, or with
+an openly expressed reluctance, and
+her aunt bore all kindly, explaining and
+smoothing away what she could, promising
+Lucindy that she should have a
+nice present of money when the guests
+departed.</p>
+
+<p>Hattie Randolph had not taken any
+notice of her, never really having seen
+her, for Lucindy had positively refused
+to wait upon the table; and had kept
+herself in the back-ground, thus making
+her life at home more of a discipline
+than was necessary. She envied
+Hattie&rsquo;s graceful ways and refined conversation;
+and her apparel was a revelation,
+not of beauty, but of another
+source of jealous envy to the country
+girl, for in putting the guests&rsquo; rooms
+in order, she examined, critically, the
+pretty things in the wardrobe.</p>
+
+<p>The city people found so much to
+interest them in the beauties of the
+surrounding neighborhood, that they
+were out nearly all the time, and when
+the evening came, Mrs. Randolph, with
+her son and daughter, made a pleasant
+addition to Mrs. Gimson&rsquo;s parlors, with
+their graceful talk, and numberless resources
+of entertainment.</p>
+
+<p>Lucindy, observant and sullen, kept
+herself informed of all their movements,
+and was continually having the blush
+brought to her cheek and the bitterness
+of comparison to her heart, as she
+noted the wide difference there was between
+herself and them. It never once
+occurred to this foolish girl, that this
+difference was growing more and more
+every day, by the fostering of pride and
+an ignorant stubbornness, which prevented
+her, utterly, from ever cultivating
+their envied characteristics.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long time since she had
+seen any of her playmates from the
+school, but by an ingenious contrivance,
+that had been thought out by Lucindy,
+a tin box had been inserted into an old
+tree in a fence corner, about midway
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"><!-- original location of illustration MISS HATTIE RANDOLPH --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a></span>
+between her home and the school-house,
+and in this they deposited their notes
+to each other.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 452px;">
+<img src="images/oyf182.jpg" width="452" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">MISS HATTIE RANDOLPH.</p>
+
+<p>This was a solace to Lucindy, as all
+the happenings at the school could be
+reported, and many a mis-spelled, soiled
+missive found its way to the eager
+hands of the absent one. Not less interesting
+was the news as to the doings
+of the boarders. Nothing, however
+trivial, that happened not to accord
+with Lucindy&rsquo;s notions was overlooked
+in her setting forth of grievances, and
+she found ready sympathizers in the
+Hess girls. Carrie Hess stood under
+the old tree, one lovely morning, overstaying
+her time in doing so, as the
+warning bell had rung at the school-house,
+reading a note she had taken
+from the tree post-office. Among other
+things, it communicated the welcome
+news, that herself and sisters might
+come to the pretty knoll behind the
+house that afternoon, and that Lucindy
+would take the occasion to make a
+holiday for herself, as her aunt was
+going, after dinner, to look up fresh
+butter and eggs, and would be gone
+until near tea time.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Randolph had hired a team, and
+with her family would be gone the
+same length of time, for a ride.</p>
+
+<p>Carrie took a race to school, very
+much elated at the prospect of enjoying
+Lucindy&rsquo;s company once more.
+Recess came, and after eating their
+very generous lunch, they prepared to
+quietly put a considerable distance between
+themselves and the precincts
+over which Miss Hunter&rsquo;s authority
+extended. They were &ldquo;skipping,&rdquo; as
+they termed it, and as their parents
+would not know of it, they reveled in
+the forbidden freedom. They proceeded
+over fences and across stubble fields,
+and soon reached the coveted meeting-place.
+A wide-spreading tree, with a
+wreath of apples upon it, just turning
+to a ruddy hue, was almost completely
+surrounded at its trunk with hazel
+bushes, but on one side they did not
+grow; this was away from the house,
+and toward the wheat field. It was a
+natural bower, and into this they crept
+to await the coming of Lucindy.</p>
+
+<p>They were not kept long in suspense,
+and when she appeared what a hugging
+and kissing were gone through with!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have your boarders gone for their
+ride?&rdquo; asked Carrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and I thought they&rsquo;d never
+get off. Old Mrs. Randolph fusses so,
+you&rsquo;d think she was going to a party
+every time she goes to ride. I wonder
+who she expects to see on a country
+road?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure enough. How was the girl
+dressed, Lu?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, she had on a light check silk,
+and a lovely brown jockey, trimmed
+with pink satin ribbon rosettes and
+long ends at the back, and a lovely,
+wide collar.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you like her better than her
+mother?&rdquo; asked Lena.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, she doesn&rsquo;t put on as many
+airs as her mother, and she&rsquo;s acted, two
+or three times, as if she were going to
+speak to me, but I managed not to let
+her. I don&rsquo;t want her acquaintance.
+I don&rsquo;t want any of her coming down
+to me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose they have nice things,
+that they&rsquo;ve brought with them, in their
+rooms,&rdquo; said Carrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Mrs. Randolph has an elegant
+blue satin pin-cushion, with morning-glories
+and apple-blossoms painted on
+it, and a dressing-case with white ivory
+combs and brushes, and they do your
+hair up lovely, for I fixed mine in her
+room yesterday with them.&rdquo; This caused
+much merriment.</p>
+
+<p>Lucindy proceeded to take from her
+pocket a pack of children&rsquo;s cards, illuminated
+with gaily-dressed ladies and
+gentlemen, and queer-looking figures of
+all kinds. These caused a sensation;
+they looked incredulously at Lucindy,
+as she said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These are the things that make
+them laugh evenings. If we knew how
+to play them, we could have some of
+their kind of fun.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a></span>
+They passed them to one another
+and examined them. They threw them
+aside presently, and returned to the
+subject of never-failing interest&mdash;the
+wardrobe of the boarders.</p>
+
+<p>Carrie and Lena intimated more than
+once, that if they could only see something
+that city people really considered
+elegant, they would be satisfied, and forever
+indebted to Lucindy for the sight.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf183.jpg" width="500" height="463" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GRETCHEN TRAILING THE BEAUTIFUL MULL OVERSKIRT ON THE GROUND.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, dear, if that will please you so
+much,&rdquo; said Lucindy, entirely willing
+to gratify them, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go and get one
+of Mrs. Randolph&rsquo;s prettiest dresses
+and show you. It wont take me a
+minute.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, do, Lucindy! we&rsquo;re just crazy
+to see it! She&rsquo;ll never know it,&rdquo; said
+Carrie, with eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>Lucindy had no scruples whatever in
+procuring so coveted a pleasure for her
+dear friends. She ran back to the
+house and up into Mrs. Randolph&rsquo;s
+room. She fumbled over the dresses,
+and thinking it was as well to take out
+two or three, that they might feast
+their eyes upon a variety, she piled
+two silk dresses and an India mull upon
+her arm, and hurried out.</p>
+
+<p>They dragged considerably upon the
+dusty path, but this was not noticed, and
+the wild delight of the girls, when they
+really had them in their hands, amply repaid
+Lucindy for any risk, she thought.</p>
+
+<p>They fingered them over, the bead
+embroideries and lace trimmings, and
+examined the fashion of each with untiring interest.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s put them on!&rdquo; said Carrie,
+&ldquo;and see how we would look in them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll look sweetly stylish,&rdquo; said
+Freda.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, do let us, Lucindy! Mrs. Randolph
+wont be back until evening.
+It&rsquo;ll be such fun!&rdquo; insisted Carrie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, let us; I don&rsquo;t care how
+much fun we have with them, the more
+the better,&rdquo; returned Lucindy. No
+sooner said than done; over their clothing
+they stretched the dresses, and
+jerked and settled them into the proper
+set. Shouts of laughter greeted every
+ridiculous pose and awkward stumble,
+and certainly nothing could be more
+provocative of merriment than their
+appearance. They trailed the dresses
+over the stubble in mock dignity; they
+improvised a dance, and went through
+all the grotesque changes they could
+invent. Their comments and jokes
+were most spicy and personal, and in
+all Lucindy led.</p>
+
+<p>After a good time enjoyed in this
+way, the fun lost its point and novelty,
+and they threw the dresses in a heap
+on the grass, and sat and chatted over
+the gossip connected with the school
+at the cross roads. The afternoon was
+wearing on, and Lucindy thought it time
+to produce her good things, and taking
+up the dresses, ran along to the
+house.</p>
+
+<p>In getting through the bars she
+dropped the mull overskirt and did not
+perceive her loss. Gretchen saw it,
+and running after, brought it back.
+Lucindy hung the dresses up in their
+places, certainly not improved by the
+airing they had had; but chancing to
+look out of an upper window, she was
+horrified to see down the road the
+identical team that Mrs. Randolph had
+hired, and as true as the world, they
+were coming home!</p>
+
+<p>She rushed down, and abandoning
+the lunch, ran as fast as she could to
+the field, and as she approached, this
+was the sight that met her gaze:</p>
+
+<p>Gretchen was strutting about with a
+dock leaf held over her head for a parasol,
+and trailing the beautiful mull
+overskirt on the ground, endeavoring
+to realize the feelings of a fine lady in
+a trailed dress.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gretchen! Gretchen!&rdquo; screamed
+Lucindy, as loudly as she dared. &ldquo;Hide
+it! hide it! Mrs. Randolph has come
+home!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Carrie jumped, and lifting Gretchen
+from it, secured the skirt, and Lucindy
+grasped it and rolled it in a small ball
+and hid it in the hazel bushes. Then
+they held a hurried consultation, and
+decided it was best for Lucindy to go
+back immediately; but, as it was now
+impossible to restore the skirt to its
+place in the wardrobe, they urged her
+to put it in some unfrequented spot,
+until a favorable opportunity came to
+get it back. Lucindy now feared her
+aunt would arrive without warning, and,
+although loth to part without the long
+anticipated treat, they walked quickly
+down the path by the fence toward the
+road.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What on the face of the earth will
+I ever do with this thing?&rdquo; whispered
+Lucindy, for the first time betraying
+fear. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t get it back to-night,
+that&rsquo;s as plain as the nose on your face.
+Oh, grief! she may inquire after it as
+soon as I go in! It&rsquo;ll be just like my
+luck for her to want to wear it to-night.
+Maybe she expects some one to spend
+the evening with them, and that&rsquo;s what
+brought them back so early. Let me
+see&mdash;Auntie will find it if I put it anywhere
+about the house or barn; I must
+not be found out in this, because if I
+am, Auntie wont give me the present
+she promised. I&rsquo;ll tell you, Carrie, you
+take it and put it down the hole in the
+tree, under the tin box. No one has
+ever found out that place; it will
+be safe there until I go for it to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was immediately decided upon,
+and the girls went sulkily home. The
+skirt was forced down into the tree,
+and the tin box placed on top, and they
+trudged slowly homeward.</p>
+
+<p>As Lucindy approached the house,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a></span>
+she began to see more and more the
+serious dilemma in which she was
+placed, and her face hardened visibly
+as she thought.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll deny the whole thing if I&rsquo;m cornered;
+perhaps Mrs. Randolph will
+live through the disappointment of not
+wearing her dress for once. I have to
+live all the time without such dresses.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Just then she heard her aunt calling
+her, and she knew that some unlooked-for
+occasion had brought them home
+before evening.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lucindy, we must hurry up the
+tea; the folks are going to spend the
+evening at Judge Brander&rsquo;s. The team
+is waiting to take them there. Mrs.
+Randolph saw me in the village, and
+told me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lucindy did not answer, but went in
+and about her duties as usual. Presently
+Mrs. Randolph called for Mrs. Gimson
+to come up stairs, as she wished to
+speak to her. Lucindy felt that now
+the discovery had been made, and
+strengthening her purpose, to deny all,
+worked on, quietly waiting for developments.</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments, her aunt came
+down in great excitement, and told her
+that someone had been in the house,
+while they were away, and had stolen
+Mrs. Randolph&rsquo;s elegant India mull
+overskirt, and had almost ruined her
+other dresses, as the trimmings were
+broken and destroyed, and some of
+them were gone entirely.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It must have been when I went for
+water; I noticed that there were two
+tramps going down the road, a man and
+woman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Lucindy, you should have
+locked the door!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, aunt, I never lock the doors
+when I go after water. I suppose
+you&rsquo;ll put the blame of it on me!&rdquo;
+Here Lucindy began to cry. &ldquo;I think
+you are a very strange woman to leave
+no one but a girl alone in a house, with
+such valuable things; it&rsquo;s a wonder the
+robbers didn&rsquo;t kill me; my coming in
+frightened them away. I&rsquo;ve no doubt
+they thought it was the hired man,&rdquo;
+Lucindy continued to cry.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Gimson never suspected her
+niece of such systematic deception.
+The well was a short distance from the
+house, and that accounted for the fact
+that nothing else was missing, as they
+had not had time, and also that the
+other dresses had been rudely dragged
+to get them down.</p>
+
+<p>She believed Lucindy&rsquo;s story. Mrs.
+Randolph could not account for the
+plight in which she found her clothing,
+and bewailed her loss, as being particularly
+annoying at this juncture.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing more was said, and, after taking
+tea, they started for the Judge&rsquo;s, leaving
+Mrs. Gimson in a greatly perturbed
+state of mind. She knew that this unfortunate
+thing would get abroad and
+discourage patrons. Desirable boarders
+would avoid her house in future.</p>
+
+<p>Lucindy, never uttering a comforting
+word to her aunt, went up to her
+room with an air of injured innocence
+that hurt her aunt quite as much as
+any thing she had undergone. During
+the early part of the evening a violent
+thunder storm came up, and Mrs.
+Randolph did not return. The next
+morning it still rained, and there was
+no excuse for Lucindy&rsquo;s going out,
+and the dress could not be secured.
+Mrs. Randolph returned at noon, and
+informed Mrs. Gimson that she had
+been invited to visit, for the rest of the
+summer, at Judge Brander&rsquo;s, and would
+leave Mrs. Gimson&rsquo;s the next day.</p>
+
+<p>Just as soon as Lucindy could be
+spared, she ran down to the tree post-office,
+put a note into the tin box, and
+returned. This, Carrie Hess got as soon as
+recess came, and the scheme worked
+out successfully, as the event proved.</p>
+
+<p>Barry, Hattie&rsquo;s brother, was standing
+by the shrubbery gate, when a little
+barefoot boy sidled up, and attracted
+his attention by his curious behavior&mdash;he
+finally spoke:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I say, them Hitalyans stuffed yer
+mother&rsquo;s clothes inter a tree down here;
+I found it this mornin&rsquo;.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a></span>
+&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; asked Barry,
+not fully understanding the boy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That ere tree, don&rsquo;t yer see?&rdquo; and
+the boy pointed to the girls&rsquo; post-office,
+that stood out dimly down the road.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it there now?&rdquo; asked Barry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do&rsquo;no, I seed it there this mornin&rsquo;.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf184.jpg" width="500" height="395" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A LITTLE BAREFOOT BOY SIDLED UP AND ATTRACTED HIS
+ATTENTION.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait till I go and tell my mother,&rdquo;
+said Barry, and he ran into the
+house.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment Mrs. Randolph and Mrs.
+Gimson were at the gate, but the boy
+had disappeared. &ldquo;Go down, Barry,
+and see if what he says is true,&rdquo; said
+his mother. He ran off, and returning
+after a little time, brought the overskirt,
+rolled up in a soiled bundle, as
+the rain had soaked it and the decayed
+wood had stained it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I think it must have been those
+tramps,&rdquo; said Mrs. Randolph. &ldquo;They
+hid it there, expecting to come for the
+rest of it the next day. They&rsquo;ll be disappointed.
+I&rsquo;ll be gone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boy was Carrie Hess&rsquo;s brother,
+and the ruse had worked; entirely turning
+off all suspicion from Lucindy.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Gimson lost her summer boarders
+and Lucindy returned to school.
+This unprincipled girl, however, learned
+the hard lesson, in her after life, that
+ingratitude to benefactors, and unfaithfulness
+to trust, meet a sure retribution,
+even if they appear to succeed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 406px;">
+<img src="images/oyf185.jpg" width="406" height="600"
+alt="A bird tries to protect her eggs from a predator" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A MIDNIGHT ATTACK.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 398px;">
+<img src="images/oyf186.jpg" width="398" height="600"
+alt="As Night Came Darkly Down - birds; a woman and child; trees" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/oyf187.jpg" width="200" height="104"
+alt="Decoration - a cherub and birds" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="as_night_came_darkly_down" id="as_night_came_darkly_down"></a>AS NIGHT CAME DARKLY DOWN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night came darkly down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The birdies&rsquo; mother said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">&ldquo;Peep! peep!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You ought to be asleep!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis time my little ones were safe in bed!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, sheltered by her wings in downy nest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weary little birdlings took their rest.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night came darkly down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The baby&rsquo;s mother said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">&ldquo;Bye-low!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You musn&rsquo;t frolic so!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You should have been asleep an hour ago!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, nestling closer to its mother&rsquo;s breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The merry prattler sank to quiet rest.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then in the cradle soft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Twas laid with tenderest care.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">&ldquo;Good-night!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleep till the morning light!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whispered the mother as she breathed a prayer.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Night settled down; the gates of day were barred<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And only loving angels were on guard.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet smcap">Josephine Pollard.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="grandmothers_clock" id="grandmothers_clock"></a>GRANDMOTHER&rsquo;S CLOCK.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It stands in the corner of Grandma&rsquo;s room;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From the ceiling it reaches the floor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Tick-tock,&rdquo; it keeps saying the whole day long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Tick-tock,&rdquo; and nothing more.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Grandma says the clock is old, like herself;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But dear Grandma is wrinkled and gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the face of the clock is smooth as my hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And painted with flowers so gay!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Backwards and forwards, this way and that,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">You can see the big pendulum rock:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Tick-tock,&rdquo; it keeps saying the whole day long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The clock never sleeps, and its hands never rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As they slowly go moving around;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it strikes the hours with a ding, ding, ding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ding, ding, and a whirring sound.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I wonder if this is the same old clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That the mousie ran up in the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And played hide-and-seek till the clock struck one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And then ran down in a fright.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Backwards and forwards, this way and that,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">You can see the big pendulum rock;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Tick-tock,&rdquo; it keeps saying the whole day long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet smcap">Nellie M. Garabrant.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/oyf188.jpg" width="200" height="119"
+alt="Decoration - a spray of leaves and flowers" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 405px;">
+<img src="images/oyf189.jpg" width="405" height="600"
+alt="A little girl and a woman by a grandfather clock" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="a_stuffed_jumbo" id="a_stuffed_jumbo"></a>A STUFFED JUMBO.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Yesterday, Alice met the stuffed
+Jumbo, her former mate. She walked
+slowly up to him, and then stood for a few
+moments, evidently surveying him
+with wonder. Then she swung
+her trunk so as to reach Jumbo&rsquo;s
+mouth. She also touched his
+trunk in a cautious manner, and
+then turning her back upon him,
+gave vent to a groan that made
+the roof of the garden tremble.
+William Newman, the elephant
+trainer, Frank Hyatt, the superintendent,
+and &ldquo;Toddy&rdquo; Hamilton,
+talked to her in their usual
+winning way, and she again faced
+Jumbo. She fondled his trunk,
+looked straight into his eyes, and
+again she groaned, and then
+walked away as though disgusted
+with the old partner of her joys
+and sorrows. She went back to
+her quarters and continued to
+mourn. Her keeper, Scott, was
+appealed to by the spectators.
+He was asked whether he believed
+that she recognized Jumbo,
+and he replied in all seriousness,
+&ldquo;Of course she did. She
+told me so.&rdquo; At another time he
+said, &ldquo;I can understand elephant
+talk, and Alice told me she
+recognized Jumbo.&rdquo; Scott seemed
+very much affected by the meeting.
+He was Jumbo&rsquo;s old keeper.&mdash;<i>Humane
+Journal.</i></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 306px;">
+<img src="images/oyf190.jpg" width="306" height="400"
+alt="The elephant carrying buckets" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">JUMBO MAKING HIMSELF USEFUL.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf191.jpg" width="500" height="230"
+alt="Several elephants stand patiently while people look on" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">SCENE AT AN ELEPHANT MARKET.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf192.jpg" width="300" height="44"
+alt="Decoration - floral pattern" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="the_trees_in_silver_land" id="the_trees_in_silver_land"></a>THE TREES IN SILVER LAND.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O softly falling flakes of snow<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That fill the wintry air,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thickening cloud on every side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Each flake a wonder rare.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 242px;">
+<img src="images/oyf193.jpg" width="242" height="350"
+alt="A woman and child look out of a window" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Are they from trees in Silver Land?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My child is asking me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He claps his hands, he laughs, he begs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;One leaf from silver tree.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Such questions as he asks in vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">About the leaf-like snow!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He might as well talk of the tides<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That strangely come and go.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Who plants those fairy trees?&rdquo; he asks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;With tops that reach so high?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, answer, Garden of Delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All in the cloudy sky!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Who shakes those trees and sends their leaves<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On field and wood and town?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is it the Gardener living there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or winds that blow them down?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O child, look up and see yourself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The clouds are Silver Land.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who made those flakes, He scatters them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They fall at His command.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They fall, they melt, they come again.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And His the gardener&rsquo;s hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That gently shakes the silver trees<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which grow in Silver Land.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet smcap">Rev. Edward A. Rand.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf194.jpg" width="500" height="383" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">LINCOLN&rsquo;S EARLY HOME.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="small_beginnings" id="small_beginnings"></a>SMALL BEGINNINGS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Did you ever think of how lowly
+was the start in life of many of our
+great men? Read the pages of history
+and you will find that fully
+seven out of ten of the great men
+were really poor. Bonaparte used
+to be a book agent, Gould was a
+surveyor, Franklin was a printer,
+Garfield worked on the tow path,
+Lincoln was a rail splitter, Grant was
+a tanner, Poe was always in financial
+distress; Crome, the great artist, used
+to pull hair from his cat&rsquo;s tail to
+make his brushes; Astor came to
+New York with nothing as the
+foundation of his fortunes. The list
+is almost endless.</p>
+
+<p>To us, there is much encouragement
+in these facts. By looking into
+the lives of such men we find the
+secret of success. Lincoln was a
+poor Illinois farmer, with no visionary
+dreams of his great future. He
+was poor and unlearned. Of the
+poverty he was not ashamed; of his
+lack of learning he was by no means
+satisfied. He resolved to gain
+knowledge. He studied, studied
+hard, and at a time in his life when
+other men felt they had passed the
+age of schooling. Of his work, we
+find he always tried to give an
+honest day&rsquo;s labor; his motto was
+to do well everything he put his
+hands to. It was this trait of character
+that attracted the attention of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a></span>
+his neighbors, and this it was that
+first started him on the road to
+great success.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf195.jpg" width="500" height="389" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GRANT&rsquo;S HOUSE, NEAR ST. LOUIS.</p>
+
+<p>Look at the early days of Grant.
+There was no indication of unusual
+brightness in him. At West Point,
+where he was sent to military school,
+he did not stand at the head of his
+classes. He only seemed an earnest
+worker, with plenty of determination.
+Later, when he lived on his little
+Illinois farm, there was nothing
+about him that pointed him out as
+the future great general. It was
+only when the great civil war broke
+out that he had an opportunity to
+show the kind of a man he was. His
+only thought was to accomplish the
+task assigned him, be it ever so difficult.
+This naturally found him in
+the line of promotion, and step by
+step he climbed higher, earning by
+hard work every step he gained, until
+he reached the highest office in the
+land.</p>
+
+<p>Take Edison, the inventor. He
+was only a tramp telegrapher, but he
+was not satisfied with being anything
+but the best, and many are the
+stories of speed he attained in sending
+or receiving messages. He was
+inquisitive&mdash;wanted to know more
+of the mysteries of the electricity
+that carried his messages. He began
+experimenting, and by close application
+to his studies, has astonished
+the world with his telephone, phonograph
+and other inventions.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a></span>
+Now, these great men are not
+merely the products of chance. Not
+at all. Study each of them and you
+will find they were workers, gaining
+by just such struggles as you and I
+can make. We may not reach such
+distinction as these have reached, but
+rest assured there is just as great a
+demand now as ever for good, earnest
+men, and earnest, successful
+men grow from painstaking boys.
+The boy who, as clerk in the counting-house,
+watches after the interests
+of his employers, will be the coming
+merchant; the young man on the
+farm who slights not the work assigned
+him, will own a farm of his own.</p>
+
+<p>Let this lesson make an impression.
+The road to success may be rugged,
+but it is not so steep but that enough
+steps, if in the right direction, be
+they ever so short, will in time carry
+you a long way toward the top.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/oyf196.jpg" width="600" height="368"
+alt="A mountainous landscape" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="garden_of_the_gods" id="garden_of_the_gods"></a>GARDEN OF THE GODS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>This, one of the grandest of
+American natural sceneries, is located
+along the Colorado River. The
+river, in its years and years of flowing,
+has washed out the soil, and
+owing to the peculiar composition of
+the ground has washed it away unevenly,
+and these standing peaks are
+so numerous and so fantastic in
+form, that this location has been
+called the Garden of the Gods. It
+is most impressive and inspiring
+grandeur. A trip will well repay a
+journey from the most remote parts
+of our country to see this view, only
+a little of which is in the engraving.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 448px;">
+<img src="images/oyf197.jpg" width="448" height="600"
+alt="The artist using a friend&#39;s shadow to draw a silhouette" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A STRANGE STUDIO.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="young_artist" id="young_artist"></a>YOUNG ARTIST.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Albert, the blacksmith&rsquo;s son, will
+be an artist some day. While other
+boys are playing ball or skating, or
+other amusements, Albert is using
+his time making pictures. He seems
+to delight in it, and even when quite
+a small boy, many were the scoldings
+he received from his parents for a
+too free use of his chalk and pencil,
+leaving his rude drawings on wall
+and fences; and in school his troubles
+were only increased, for his books
+always contained pictures, sometimes
+of horses, or dogs, or of his friends.
+This habit did not correspond with
+his teachers&rsquo; ideas of tidiness, and
+punishment followed punishment.
+It did not help matters, though, and
+his drawing continued. In time he
+became quite apt and could make
+pictures that very closely resembled
+the objects he drew. His companions
+called him the &ldquo;artist,&rdquo; and they
+would have him make pictures of
+them. Some of his methods were
+odd enough. To make an outline of
+a boy&rsquo;s face he would tack a piece of
+paper on the side of a door in his
+father&rsquo;s shop, and by placing the boy
+between the paper and a lighted
+lamp, would trace with pencil the
+outline of the shadow as it fell on
+the paper. Soon he tried painting
+with paint and brush. At first his
+efforts were crude, and to anyone
+less determined and enthusiastic,
+discouraging. Not so to Albert.
+He worked along day after day, and
+in time could paint well enough to
+attract some notice in his little village.</p>
+
+<p>About this time a great artist from
+the city, spending the summer in this
+part of the country, heard of Albert,
+and by accident met him. Quick to
+perceive the natural talent of the
+boy, and being generously inclined,
+he offered to take him to his city
+home and give him training in his
+studio. The parents, though loth to
+be separated from their son, saw here
+an opportunity to educate him in his
+favorite study, and so accepted the
+offer.</p>
+
+<p>You can well imagine Albert&rsquo;s
+surprise and delight when he first
+entered the studio and saw the work
+of the master. How the great paintings
+filled him with wonder. He
+proved an apt student, a true artist,
+and year after year worked with
+patience and determination, and became
+a noted painter.</p>
+
+<p>He often thinks of his early days&mdash;of
+the pictures he made in the old
+blacksmith shop. He thinks, too, of
+the years spent since then in attaining
+prominence in his calling, but no
+regrets come to him.</p>
+
+<p>The true story of how one boy
+succeeded can be of use to others.
+It only takes this same perseverance
+and pluck to succeed in any other
+calling. Had he complained because
+he could not paint like the master,
+and not been contented to study on
+during these years, he could not now
+lay claim to his present success and
+eminence as an artist. Let others,
+in reading this, see in it an object,
+and may it bring to them new resolve
+to succeed in the life work they have
+started on.</p>
+
+<p>Life is what we make it, and not a
+matter of chance. By marking out
+a future success we expect to accomplish,&mdash;by
+sticking closely to this
+one idea, and bending every energy
+to attain it, we can come approximately
+near accomplishing our undertaking.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/oyf198.jpg" width="200" height="26"
+alt="Ornamental pattern" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="a_chance_word" id="a_chance_word"></a>A CHANCE WORD.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Ralph and Lily had one game of
+which they never tired, and that was
+&ldquo;horses.&rdquo; It was really a convenient
+game, for it could be played on wet or
+fine days, in the nursery or on the
+road. Perhaps it was best fun on the
+road, &ldquo;like real horses;&rdquo; but I am not
+sure, for it was very delightful to sit on
+the nursery table, with the box of bricks
+for a coachman&rsquo;s seat, and from that
+elevated position to drive the spirited
+four horses represented by the four
+chairs, to which the reins would be
+fastened.</p>
+
+<p>One day&mdash;a fine day&mdash;the two children
+were playing at their usual game
+on the turnpike road, and waiting for
+nurse, who had gone into a cottage
+near by to speak to the washerwoman.
+Nurse was a long time, and Ralph, who
+was horse, was quite out of breath with
+his long trot on the hard road. Lily
+touched him up with the whip, but all
+to no avail&mdash;he could run no more.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve no breath left,&rdquo; said the poor
+horse, sinking down exhausted on a
+heap of stones.</p>
+
+<p>Lily put down the whip and patted
+his head to encourage him. &ldquo;Soh! soh!&rdquo;
+she said, in as good an imitation as she
+could manage of the way the groom
+spoke to their father&rsquo;s horse; &ldquo;you are
+quite done, I see. You must rest, and
+have a handful of oats,&rdquo; and she dived
+into her pocket and produced a bit of biscuit,
+which the horse ate with great satisfaction,
+and soon professed himself
+ready to go on again. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said Lily,
+sagely, &ldquo;I knew you&rsquo;d be all right soon;
+there&rsquo;s nothing like food and kindness
+for horses when they&rsquo;re tired.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A tinker, with a cart and a poor, ill-fed
+beast harnessed to it, happened to
+be passing, and heard the little girl&rsquo;s
+words. He stared after her, for she
+seemed very small to speak so wisely,
+and the tinker did not, of course, know
+that she was only repeating what she
+had heard her father say.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;m dazed!&rdquo; exclaimed the
+tinker, looking after the children;
+&ldquo;wherever did little Missy learn that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He said no more then; but Lily&rsquo;s
+words stuck to him, and his poor horse
+had reason to bless Lily for them, for
+from that day forward he got, not only
+more food, but more kindness and
+fewer blows and so he became a better
+horse, and the tinker the better man in
+consequence.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="a_little_dance" id="a_little_dance"></a>A LITTLE DANCE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, it is fun! Oh, it is fun!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dress ourselves up, as Grandma has done.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See how we go! See how we go!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forward and back, heel and toe.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lighter than down, our feet come down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mind all your steps, and hold out your gown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faster than that, whatever may hap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cherry red waist and blue speckled cap.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hi! Master John! Ho! Master John!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Don&rsquo;t go to sleep, while the music goes on;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faster than that! Faster than that!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hold up your head, and flourish your hat!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How she trips it along, that bright little maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With her dainty blue skirt and spotted brocade;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that one in yellow, who wears the red rose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How she keeps her mouth shut and turns out her toes.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How they do spin! when they truly begin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each dancer as airy and bright as a doll;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the music complete, keeps time to their feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With its fiddle-dee-diddle and tol-de-rol-ol!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, it is fun! Oh, it is fun!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dance, when every duty is done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forward and back, or all in a ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A quick little dance is a very gay thing.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="center">
+<a name="looking_out_for_number_one" id="looking_out_for_number_one"></a>
+<table class="one" title="Looking Out for Number One" summary="Looking Out for Number One verses 1-3">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br />
+<p class="center smlfont" style="padding-left: 8em;">OLIVE A. WADSWORTH.</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">Joey was a country boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Father&rsquo;s help and mother&rsquo;s joy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">In the morning he rose early,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">That&rsquo;s what made his hair so curly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Early went to bed at night,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">That&rsquo;s what made his eyes so bright;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Ruddy as a red-cheeked apple;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Playful as his pony, Dapple;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Even the nature of the rose<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Wasn&rsquo;t quite as sweet as Joe&rsquo;s.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">Charley was a city boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Father&rsquo;s pet and mother&rsquo;s joy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Always lay in bed till late;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">That&rsquo;s what made his hair so straight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Late he sat up every night,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">That&rsquo;s what made his cheeks so white;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Always had whate&rsquo;er he wanted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">He but asked, and mother granted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Cakes and comfits made him snarly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Sweets but soured this poor Charley.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">Charley, dressed quite like a beau,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Went, one day, to visit Joe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">&ldquo;Come,&rdquo; said Joey, &ldquo;let&rsquo;s go walking;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">As we wander, we&rsquo;ll be talking;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And, besides, there&rsquo;s something growing<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">In the garden, worth your knowing.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">&ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; said Charley, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m your guest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Therefore I must have the best.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">All the <em>inner</em> part I choose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">And the <em>outer</em> you can use.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+<br /><br />
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table class="two" summary="Looking Out for Number One verses 4-5">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br />
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="ix">Joey gave a little laugh;<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;go half and half.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">&ldquo;No, you don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; was Charley&rsquo;s answer,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">&ldquo;I look out for number one, sir.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">But when they arrived, behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">On the tree a peach of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">All without, fair, ripe and yellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">Fragrant, juicy, tempting, mellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a></span>
+<span class="ix">And, within, a gnarly stone.<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">&ldquo;There,&rdquo; said Joey, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s your own;<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">As you choose, by right of guest,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">Keep your choice&mdash;I&rsquo;ll eat the rest.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="ix">Charley looked as black as thunder,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">Scarce could keep his temper under.<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">&ldquo;&rsquo;Twas too bad, I think,&rdquo; said Joe;<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">&ldquo;Through the cornfield let us go,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">Something there, perhaps we&rsquo;ll see<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">That will suit you to a T.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Charles, with accent nipping,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">&ldquo;Twice you will not catch me tripping;<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">Since I lost the fruit before,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">You now owe me ten times more.<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">Now the <em>outer</em> part I choose,<br /></span>
+<span class="ix">And the <em>inner</em> you can use.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br />
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Joey gave another laugh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Better call it half and half.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;No, indeed!&rdquo; was Charley&rsquo;s answer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I look out for number one, sir!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well I know what I&rsquo;m about,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For you, what&rsquo;s in; for me what&rsquo;s out!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On they went, and on a slope<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lay a luscious cantaloupe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rich and rare, with all the rays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the August suns that blaze;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quite <em>within</em> its sweets you find,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And <em>without</em> the rugged rind.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Charley gazed in blank despair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deeply vexed and shamed his air.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Joey, &ldquo;since you would<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Choose the bad and leave the good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since you claimed the outer part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And disdained the juicy heart,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yours the rind, and mine the rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as you&rsquo;re my friend and guest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Charley, man, cheer up and laugh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we&rsquo;ll share it half and half;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looking out for number one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doesn&rsquo;t always bring the fun.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf201.jpg" width="500" height="386"
+alt="At work in the studio" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2 class="smcap"><a name="woodcroft" id="woodcroft"></a>Woodcroft.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Woodcroft to be sold!&mdash;like a knell
+of doom the words fell on our ears&mdash;it
+could not be! Our dear old home, the
+only one we children had ever known,
+to be taken from us. We sat in the
+bright little sitting-room, blankly looking
+at one another, in dumb astonishment.
+Louise, who was always the
+thoughtful one, soon roused herself
+from the stupor which seemed to have
+come upon us all, and going over to the
+lounge, began comforting&mdash;as best she
+could, poor child&mdash;our gentle little
+mother, upon whom this blow had fallen
+most heavily. Presently she sat up,
+and in trembling tones told us, as we
+clustered at her knee, the particulars
+of our misfortune.</p>
+
+<p>There were three of us&mdash;Louise, Cal
+and I, who rejoiced in the quaint
+cognomen of Pen, named for a rich,
+eccentric, old aunt, who had never left
+me any money because she never died.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Marmo, out with all the
+trouble and let us share it,&rdquo; said matter-of-fact
+Cal. And then she told
+how, after papa&rsquo;s sudden death a year
+before, she had discovered a mortgage
+to be on the place, small, but now due
+and no money to meet it; the creditor
+was pressing, and the home to be sold.
+We felt sad, but cheered her up, and
+talked over ways and means as never
+before.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Even though he consents to renew
+it, where would the yearly interest
+money come from,&rdquo; she wailed.</p>
+
+<p>We urged her to lie down and rest,
+and, following Cal&rsquo;s beckoning finger,
+tip-toed out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, girls,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;<em>something&rsquo;s</em>
+got to be done, and <em>we&rsquo;ve</em> got to do it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 472px;">
+<img src="images/oyf202.jpg" width="472" height="600"
+alt="Two birds perch on a sketchpad, looking at a sketch of themselves" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;A TRIBUTE TO YOUR GENIUS, LOU,&rdquo; SAID I. &ldquo;LIKE THE FAMOUS ARTIST<br />
+OF OLD, WHO PAINTED CHERRIES SO NATURALLY, THE BIRDS<br />
+FLEW DOWN AND PECKED AT THE CANVAS.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a></span>
+One thing after another was proposed
+and rejected; we knew, if the home
+were sold, after the demands were met,
+there would be but a mere pittance left
+for four females to live on. Finally I
+broke in:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Girls, my brain is not usually fertile,
+but a thought has been growing&mdash;we are
+all well educated, but teaching is out of
+the question, the supply is greater than
+the demand, but Lou, here, is skilled
+with pencil and brush, and Cal has a
+genius for contrivance; now why could
+you not paint and decorate some of the
+dainty trifles you often make as gifts,
+and <em>sell</em> them. <em>I</em> always did have a notion
+for cookery, which I shall proceed
+to put in practice, dismissing the servants.&rdquo;
+Having delivered this little
+speech, I paused, breathless.</p>
+
+<p>Cal clapped her hands, and Lou&rsquo;s
+brown eyes glowed. &ldquo;Pen, you little
+duck,&rdquo; and Cal pounced on me in an
+excess of joy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But,&rdquo; faltered Lou, &ldquo;the mortgage.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I thought of that too&mdash;our lady-like
+Louise shall go to that crusty old creditor,
+and beg him to <em>renew</em> it, and with
+what you girls earn and what we save
+from the rent of the farm land (for we
+must live economically) we will pay him
+the interest promptly.&rdquo; I will add, that
+she did that very thing, and completely
+won over the hard-hearted fellow with
+her sweet, earnest manner.</p>
+
+<p>So to work we went, and the sitting-room
+was converted into a studio, littered
+with papers, books, gay ribbons
+and glue-pots. But some exquisite creations
+came out of that chaos. I had
+visited the aforesaid Aunt Pen the previous
+winter, in New York city, and
+at the American Specialty House had
+been enchanted with the many novel
+and beautiful pieces of decorated work.
+All would be entirely new in <em>this</em> part
+of the world, and our idea was, to take
+orders from the near towns for their
+Holiday trade. It was now only May
+and we would have plenty of time. Cal,
+who, with her brusque, honest ways, determined
+face, and curly, short hair, was
+our man of business, took samples of
+our work in to the various towns, receiving
+large orders in almost every
+instance.</p>
+
+<p>Happy and busy as bees we worked,
+and began to feel quite important, as
+the pile grew high, of white boxes, filled
+with delicate satin souvenirs for wedding
+and birthdays, Christmas tokens of
+lovely design, little poems with dainty
+painted covers, blotters and thought
+books, beautifully decorated, all of
+which found ready sale. The little
+mother&rsquo;s sad eyes began to brighten,
+and Cal would say:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Marmo, we can take care of you almost
+as good as sons, can&rsquo;t we?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God bless my daughters,&rdquo; would be
+the reply.</p>
+
+<p>Louise had established her studio
+under the old apple-tree one warm
+June day, and, running out to call her
+to lunch, I found she had gone down in
+the garden, but I saw the cutest, prettiest
+sight! I beckoned her to come
+softly. There, on her sketch-book,
+opened against the tree, and on which
+was a half-finished painting of birds,
+hopped around two brown sparrows,
+peeping and twittering as contentedly
+as possible. It was too cunning! as
+though they had recognized their portraits
+and felt at home.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A tribute to your genius, Lou,&rdquo;
+said I. &ldquo;Like the famous artist of old,
+who painted cherries so naturally, the
+birds flew down and pecked at the canvas.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I fear I shall have to dispel the illusion,
+dear. I guess they were more
+eager to pick up some cake crumbs I
+left than to admire my work.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Readers, you will be glad to know
+that the girls&rsquo; work continued successful,
+and that the &ldquo;crusty old creditor&rdquo;
+turned out a good friend, from sheer
+admiration of their pluck and courage.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 175px;">
+<img src="images/oyf203.jpg" width="175" height="68"
+alt="Two little birds" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf204.jpg" width="500" height="405"
+alt="Climbing roses" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="in_the_woods" id="in_the_woods"></a>IN THE WOODS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Merryvale was not
+a very lively place for
+any one except a couple
+of young colts,
+and as many calves,
+jumping around after
+their mothers.</p>
+
+<p>The bees seemed to be making a
+good deal of fun for themselves, if
+stinging us children amused them, and
+buzzing into every pretty, bright flower,
+so that no one could pick it with safety.</p>
+
+<p>The crows, too, collected in great
+gossiping parties, in the pines, over on
+the shore of the pond, and they always
+seemed to be congratulating themselves
+over something immensely satisfactory.</p>
+
+<p>But we children, especially the girls,
+found it very dull after we had seen
+the few sights of the farm. The boys
+were trying to hunt and fish; but Lib
+and I talked that over, and we came to
+the conclusion, after much laughing
+and many caustic remarks, that the
+only amusement we had was, laughing
+at their failures.</p>
+
+<p>We communicated that fact to them,
+but it didn&rsquo;t seem to make any difference;
+off they went on the same fruitless
+hunt, and left us to do what we
+might, to make ourselves happy.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, Lib and Dora and I
+told them we would go into the woods
+with them and see what the charm was.
+Lib was the eldest of us three, and had
+read a great deal, and she said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;May be we shall find the robbers&rsquo;
+cave, and if we say, &lsquo;Open Sesame,&rsquo;
+the great stone doors will slowly swing
+open, and we can go in where the
+chains of flashing gems and the heaps
+of golden coin are.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think you&rsquo;ll get into places where
+you can&rsquo;t get out; &lsquo;open sesame&rsquo; will
+never lift you out of a marsh hole,&rdquo;
+said William Pitt Gaylord, our eldest
+brother.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mollie, you can find somebody to
+have a talking match with, for there are
+lots of chipmunks over in the grove,&rdquo;
+remarked Hugh.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve seen snakes in that very woods,
+too, and if you&rsquo;d holler, Lib, at that
+end of the pond, as you do at this end
+of the tea-table, you wouldn&rsquo;t catch
+any fish,&rdquo; said William. This caused
+an uproarious laugh on the part of the
+boys.</p>
+
+<p>We listened quietly to their sarcastic
+remarks, knowing they were prompted
+by an unreasonable desire to monopolize
+the delights of the woods to themselves.</p>
+
+<p>William Pitt remarked that &ldquo;Girls
+had no business to meddle with boys&rsquo;
+sports, and they&rsquo;d come to grief if they
+did; you&rsquo;d see!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Next morning the August haze lay
+soft on the landscape, but in a short
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a></span>
+time it went off, and Father, learning
+that we girls were going to spend a
+part of the day in the woods, quietly
+told the boys that they must escort us
+to the pleasantest place, and not wander
+very far off. They pouted considerably,
+and had a talk at the corner of
+the barn; they then came back, smiling,
+and apparently good-natured.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 339px;">
+<img src="images/oyf205.jpg" width="339" height="350"
+alt="Walking through the fields" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Our brothers did not intend to be
+unkind, but they had the common failing
+of humanity&mdash;selfishness. But Lib
+matched them in a dozen ways with her
+good-humored retaliations; and many a
+tilt she had with William Pitt since we
+had arrived at the farm. In the city she
+was abreast of him in all his studies;
+and I noticed that Lib could get out
+her Latin, and write a composition
+much faster than he, and often he had
+been obliged to come to her for aid.
+It nettled Lib not to be able to hunt
+and fish. We two younger ones modeled
+after her; she was the leader, and
+when she said we would go with the
+boys, we went.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hello Fred,&rdquo; said Hugh, as a
+neighboring boy, a city boarder, came
+through the gate, attired in base-ball
+cap and knickerbockers, &ldquo;we can&rsquo;t go to
+Duck Inlet to-day. Father says the
+girls must have a good time, too, and
+that we must devote one day to them,
+at least.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Fred, &ldquo;can I go
+with you? I&rsquo;ll go and get my butterfly
+net, and we can go over to Fern Hollow
+mill, the winter-greens and berries
+are as thick there! Gracious! you can
+get a quart pail full in no time.
+The mill-wheel is a beautiful
+sight,&rdquo; said Fred, turning to
+Lib, &ldquo;and you can sketch it,
+Miss Gaylord.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lib looked upon Fred with
+a little more toleration, after
+he had said &ldquo;Miss Gaylord,&rdquo;
+and went and ordered an
+additional ration to be put
+into the lunch basket. We
+were glad to have Fred along
+with us, for he was very funny,
+and made jokes on every
+thing.</p>
+
+<p>Lib would allow no one to
+carry the lunch basket but
+herself, as she remarked, &ldquo;It
+is safer with me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>We started, and were tempted
+to loiter at all the little
+nooks on the leaf-shadowed
+road, and investigate the
+haunts of the curious dwellers
+in the rocks and bushes,
+and especially were we
+interested in the ducks on Fern Hollow
+creek. Dora insisted upon feeding
+them a piece of bread. &ldquo;Calamity,&rdquo;
+the dog, was along, of course, and as
+he belonged to William Pitt, who called
+him &ldquo;Clam,&rdquo; he was always in that
+boy&rsquo;s company. It was, &ldquo;Love me,
+love my dog,&rdquo; with William; and as
+he was a professional of some kind, he
+was greatly prized by the boys.</p>
+
+<p>We reached the woods and the old
+mill early; I think I never was in a
+more delightful place. Every thing
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a></span>
+seemed to grow here. Winter-greens,
+with their crimson berries, shining in
+the moss, and blueberries, where the
+sun came; tall, white flowers that grew
+in clusters in the shade, sent their perfume
+all about. Back of the mill, on
+some sandy ledges, grew pennyroyal
+and spearmint;
+raspberries and
+blackberries
+grew everywhere.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 339px;">
+<img src="images/oyf206.jpg" width="339" height="500"
+alt="A stream running through fields" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The boys
+went off to
+gather a
+quantity for lunch,
+and Lib and Dora
+and I hunted for a
+pleasant place to
+set out our dainties.
+We found it. A
+natural bower, between four
+trees; one being a giant of a
+pine, right at the doorway. The
+wild grape-vine and the woodbine
+had inclosed the space so completely,
+that Lib, who had thoughtfully
+brought along a scissors to
+cut off stubborn plants, could make
+two windows in the green wall; one
+looking into the woods, the other off
+at the distant pond. The grass was
+fine in here, and the sunbeams
+dropped down in little round spots,
+on the pine needles that covered the
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is certainly the fairies&rsquo; dining
+hall,&rdquo; said Lib.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you what,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;this is
+not far from home, and we can bring
+things, and have a little parlor here. I
+can make a couple of curtains out of
+that figured scrim, for windows, and
+that old square rug in the carriage-house
+will do for the floor.
+You can bring your rocking-chair,
+Lib, and Dora can bring
+her tea-set.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll bring our Christmas and
+Easter cards, and we can fasten
+them all about, on the walls,&rdquo; said
+Lib, who had fallen in immediately
+with the plan.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll bring Mrs. Snobley, and
+all her children, and the dining
+table,&rdquo; said Dora.</p>
+
+<p>She had reference to her large
+doll, and a whole dozen of little
+ones, that were always brought
+forward in any play that Dora
+had taken a fancy to.</p>
+
+<p>We were in such haste to
+put our scheme into operation,
+that we dispatched the lunch
+in short order, and told the
+boys of our plan. They thought
+it was capital. Any thing that
+would release them, after they
+had eaten all that was to be had,
+would, of course, be received
+with acclamation. They acknowledged
+the same, in a very
+neat speech, which Lib said,
+&ldquo;did very good for Hugh.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She fell in immediately with
+our fun, and helped us to a number
+of nice things, to furnish
+our greenwood bower. We
+worked tremendously that afternoon,
+and after Betty had washed
+the dinner dishes, she helped us. Before
+sun-down every thing was complete.
+The boys, who had taken themselves a
+mile away, to hunt, came round to visit
+us on their way home. They agreed
+that it was just perfect, and inquired if
+we hadn&rsquo;t put in an elevator, to reach
+the second story, with numerous other
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a></span>
+inquiries, intended to be funny; and
+then asked where we kept our cranberry
+tarts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re not going to allow any boys
+in this play-house after to-day,&rdquo; said I;
+&ldquo;your feet are muddy, and you&rsquo;re so big,
+you fill it all up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Our visitor, Fred, looked at his feet,
+and blushed. &ldquo;Not after to-day? How
+are you going to keep any one out?&rdquo;
+inquired William Pitt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We will draw this portiere across
+the doorway, and no <em>gentleman</em> would
+think of entering,&rdquo; said Lib.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, they wouldn&rsquo;t, sure enough,&rdquo;
+said Hugh. &ldquo;How are you going to
+prevent our looking in the windows?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Only rude boys would look in windows,&rdquo;
+said Fred, &ldquo;and I don&rsquo;t know
+of any hereabouts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They laughed at this, and Lib laughed
+too, and made the sly remark, that
+&ldquo;Hunting on the duck-pond transformed
+some people mighty soon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Fred said he&rsquo;d try to be on his good
+behavior if we&rsquo;d let him make a formal
+call on us the next afternoon. We
+consented to this; then they all said
+they&rsquo;d call.</p>
+
+<p>The next day we busied ourselves in
+preparing a spread of good things for
+our reception, and Betty took it over,
+and on returning, said every thing was
+just as we had left it. We dressed
+ourselves up in our best, to receive the
+gentlemen, a little time after dinner.
+The woods were never so lovely, we
+thought, and to add to our personal
+charms, we made wreaths and garlands
+of ferns and wild-flowers to adorn our
+persons and hats.</p>
+
+<p>I had sauntered along considerably
+in advance, and as I approached the
+bower I was not a little surprised to
+see from a distance that the door-curtain
+was drawn half open. I stopped
+to listen, but there was no sound, only
+a wild bird piping its three little notes,
+down by the mill. I cautiously went
+up, and peeped into the little window,
+and there stood a man on the rug! He
+seemed to be looking about. I think I
+never was so frightened. I ran back,
+and whispered to the rest the dreadful
+state of things. They looked horror-stricken.
+Lib changed color, but just
+stood still. Then she said,&mdash;&ldquo;There&rsquo;s
+plenty of help over at the mill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, let us go no nearer, but get
+home as fast as we can,&rdquo; I said.</p>
+
+<p>Lib raised her hand in warning for us
+to keep still, and we crept along, softly,
+behind the bower; and when we had gotten
+so far, we all turned around and ran
+for dear life into the woods again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is nonsense,&rdquo; said Lib. &ldquo;You
+were mistaken, Mollie, I&rsquo;m sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I said I&rsquo;d go back with her, and she
+could see for herself. We crept to the
+back of the bower, and Lib leaned over
+and looked in. Lib turned pale, caught
+hold of my hand and Dora&rsquo;s, and ran
+quite a distance toward the mill.
+Then she stopped, and said, as true as
+she was alive, there was a man in there;
+he stood with a large stick resting on
+his shoulder, upon which was slung a
+bundle, tied up in a red handkerchief,
+his clothing was ragged, and his hat
+was very dilapidated.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Lib, I&rsquo;m going to run for it,&rdquo;
+said I.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait a minute,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+hear any noise. Let&rsquo;s think; if we
+didn&rsquo;t have to go right in front of the
+door, we could get to the mill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>All this time we were edging ourselves
+as far away from the dangerous
+precincts as we conveniently could.
+She stood again, perfectly still. &ldquo;I
+won&rsquo;t go another step,&rdquo; she said. That
+moment&rsquo;s reflect had re-instated her
+courage. &ldquo;He don&rsquo;t come out; I should
+say that was making an informal call
+when the ladies were out. He&rsquo;s a
+beautiful-looking specimen anyway,&rdquo;
+said Lib, with fine irony; and as she
+said this, she frowned, and put her
+head back.</p>
+
+<p>No sound was heard, and no demonstrations
+from the interloper were made.
+The sight of the mill-wagon, going
+slowly down the road, gave us heart,
+and Lib said:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a></span>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go and order him out, be the
+consequences what they may. Mollie,
+you&rsquo;re good at screaming, you can
+bring the miller here if we have to get
+help.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t! Don&rsquo;t! I would rather he
+stole all our things; let him have the
+tarts and the cocoanut cake, and the
+jam, and the pickles, and the cheese,
+and the sandwiches! Let him have
+them in welcome! I&rsquo;m going to fly
+home!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want Mrs. Snobley!&rdquo; sobbed
+Dora.</p>
+
+<p>Lib never said another word. She
+walked up to the entrance, and pulled
+aside the curtain, and there stood the
+semblance of a man. In his extended
+hand was a card, on which was very
+badly printed:</p>
+
+<div class="finebox">
+<p class="center">&ldquo;<i>I&rsquo;m a poor b&rsquo;y,&mdash;I want a home.</i>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="center">&ldquo;<i>References exchanged.</i>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="center">&ldquo;<i>I&rsquo;ll scrape the mud off me
+boots, if ye&rsquo;ll let me in.</i>&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Lib called, &ldquo;Come here, Mollie, it&rsquo;s
+a trick of those boys.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>We went in, and there we found the
+interloper to be a scarecrow from a
+neighboring field, ingeniously arranged
+so as to appear very human.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment, a loud laugh above
+our heads betrayed the presence of the
+boys in the trees, who clambered down
+with hilarious expedition, and fairly
+rolled themselves upon the ground
+with delight. They had seen all our
+perturbation; had heard my cowardly
+cries and expressions; Lib&rsquo;s looking in
+the window, and her fearful hesitation
+and scamper behind the fairy bower!
+The best thing to do was to laugh, and
+that we did right heartily; we girls, were
+internally thankful that the intruder was
+only a scarecrow after all.</p>
+
+<p>We ordered the boys take their silly
+joke out, and to come in like gentlemen,
+and make a formal call, and
+probably they would be invited to take
+some refreshments.</p>
+
+<p>This news caused them to work with
+great alacrity. They were dressed up
+too; Fred having chosen to wear his
+school uniform, with a gorgeous crimson
+sash and his sword.</p>
+
+<p>We were never so delighted with
+any thing as with that afternoon&rsquo;s adventure.
+For hours we chatted and
+laughed, and ate our refreshments,
+until the western light began to take
+on a ruddy hue, and we closed our little
+bower and proceeded homeward.</p>
+
+<p>What was our surprise, when we
+reached there, to find that three young
+friends from the city with their servant
+had come to visit us. Merryvale
+was not dull after that, I can assure you.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 263px;">
+<img src="images/oyf207.jpg" width="263" height="450" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE NEW SERVANT AT MERRYVALE.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="autumn_leaves_and_what_katie_did" id="autumn_leaves_and_what_katie_did"></a>AUTUMN LEAVES, AND
+WHAT KATIE DID.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">ALEX DUKE BAILIE.</p>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Bessie! I&rsquo;ve such an idea, <em>such</em>
+a good one, and <em>so</em> sure, you can&rsquo;t think
+how it came either, if you guessed and
+tried for a week!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Child, you are always having ideas,
+but they amount to nothing; you have
+enough to do at home, without continually
+fretting your head about what
+you cannot carry out.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Bessie, this is <em>just splendid</em>,
+and it came to me all of a sudden, and
+I&rsquo;m sure as sure can be that it is a real
+<em>good</em> idea. Now wont you listen!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose I must, if I want any
+peace; but I&rsquo;m very tired, so if it is
+like your latest&mdash;to catch fish and sell
+them in the town, or to have your curls
+cut off and let some city hair-dresser
+pay you for them&mdash;there will be no use
+to tell it to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tain&rsquo;t neither, Bessie dear, it&rsquo;s a
+real clever idea, and I know you wont
+say &lsquo;no&rsquo; to it. I was looking over
+some of the old picture papers this
+morning, and I found a funny picture
+of a gentleman that had gone fishing
+with, oh! the greatest lot of lines, and
+a fine rod, and a basket swung at his
+back, and he looked ever so nice; but
+he hadn&rsquo;t caught any thing and he was
+ashamed to go back to the city with an
+empty basket; and then there was another
+picture where he was buying a
+great string of fish from a bare-footed
+little country boy, that had caught
+them all, and had only a rough old
+pole and an old line on it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So it <em>is</em> the fishing idea, again,&rdquo;
+said Bessie, &ldquo;but the present variation
+does not improve on the last.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, it just ain&rsquo;t the fishing idea
+any more; it&rsquo;s this: you know all the
+excursion parties that come up here,
+are coming all the time now; well, the
+ladies all gather autumn leaves, lots
+and lots, handsful and handsful of
+them. But they get tired of carrying
+so many after a while, and by the time
+they get ready to go back to the cars,
+their leaves are thrown away, and they
+are empty-handed. Now just listen!
+If I go to work and pick out the <em>very</em>
+prettiest leaves and do them up in the
+<em>very</em> sweetest bunches, and tie them so
+they are easy to carry, and meet them
+when they are starting to go home, I&rsquo;m <em>sure</em>
+they will buy them, just like the gentleman
+did the fish from that boy.
+Now, ain&rsquo;t that a <em>real good</em> idea?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I believe there is something in it,
+Katie,&rdquo; answered the eldest sister.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I knew you would,&rdquo; cried Katie,
+joyously, &ldquo;and may I try it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you will be very careful and not
+talk too much to the people you know
+nothing of, I have no objections; it
+can do no harm, at all events,&rdquo; and
+poor, tired Bessie sighed as she looked
+at her bright young sister and thought
+of the time when she too was young
+and full of hope and gay spirits.</p>
+
+<p>There was quite a family of these
+Wilsons in the little house at the foot
+of the mountains, in Pennsylvania.
+The widowed mother, sickly and almost
+blind; Bessie, a young lady, the
+eldest daughter, aged twenty-three,
+who taught a very large school for very
+small pay; then Katie not quite
+twelve, and Robbie, the baby, the pet,
+the boy, who was only five.</p>
+
+<p>Three years before, their father had
+been living, and they had enjoyed all that
+wealth could bring them. Suddenly
+he sickened and died, and then came
+the dreadful knowledge that he left
+nothing for his family; he was deeply
+in debt to his partner, with whom he
+had worked a large coal-mine, and this
+Mr. Moore was what all people called
+a &ldquo;hard man,&rdquo; he was old and crabbed,
+and always wanted and would have
+every cent coming to him. Bessie
+was to have been married to his son,
+Philip, but when poverty came to her,
+the old man refused to let Philip see
+her more, and the girl was too proud
+to go into a family where she was not
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a></span>
+wanted, and, beside, she had her poor
+mother, who had given up and failed
+fast after her misfortunes, she had her
+to look after. So Bessie taught school;
+Katie attended to the little home into
+which they had moved from the great
+house on the hill, a noble little housekeeper
+she was; Robbie did about as
+he pleased and was well content with
+life, except when neat Katie would
+seize him and wash his face with plenty
+of soap in his eyes, and comb his tangled
+curls with a comb that &ldquo;allus
+pulled,&rdquo; as he cried.</p>
+
+<p>It was hard for them to pay the rent,
+to get food and the many delicacies
+Mrs. Wilson had always been used to,
+and now needed more than ever. Bessie&rsquo;s
+small wages from her school were
+taken, every cent, for these, and Katie
+was continually bothering her young
+head with &ldquo;ideas&rdquo; as to how <em>she</em> could
+make money to help them all. The
+autumn leaves were the latest, and it
+really did seem as though there were
+something in it.</p>
+
+<p>The next day was Saturday, Bessie
+was free from school duties, and so her
+little sister had more time at her disposal.
+Friday evening she and Robbie
+gathered a great quantity of bright-colored
+leaves; the next morning,
+bright and early, they were out again;
+the little back porch was filled with
+them.</p>
+
+<p>With her own natural good taste,
+aided by Bessie&rsquo;s more cultivated judgment,
+they made up many neat, beautiful
+bunches of those bright-colored
+droppings from the forest trees. These
+she placed in a large but pretty basket
+that once had been sent, filled with
+rare fruit, to Bessie, from Philip, and
+the older girl sighed when she gave
+it to her sister.</p>
+
+<p>Then Katie started, leaving Robbie
+behind crying; and with a trembling
+heart and a big lump in her throat, but
+bravely as a little soldier, she made
+her way to the path by which the excursion
+parties would have to return to
+the cars. Soon they began to come
+along, all tired, trying to be merry
+ladies and gentlemen.</p>
+
+<p>Katie stood with her basket on her
+arm. She did not know how pretty
+she looked, with her brown curls floating
+out from beneath her big sun-bonnet,
+her pure white apron, her dark
+dress which Bessie had made from one
+of her own, with delicate bits of lace at
+the wrists, a bright bit of ribbon about
+her throat and a plain little breast-pin
+clasping it. Her big black eyes looked
+longingly at the passers-by, her red
+lips tried, many times, to utter some
+words that would help her sell her
+wares, but she could not speak, she
+could only up her hand and <em>look</em>
+her wants.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What lovely leaves!&rdquo; cried a young
+lady, &ldquo;these of mine seem all faded by
+the carrying, and I&rsquo;m tired of the great
+load anyhow,&rdquo; and she threw away a
+great lot tied round with her handkerchief,
+and hastened toward the little
+merchant.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What a pretty girl,&rdquo; said the young
+man with her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How much are these?&rdquo; inquired
+the lady.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie had not thought of what she
+would ask for her bunches, and now,
+between pleasure and fright, she could
+not think of any price to put upon
+them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whatever you please, Miss,&rdquo; she
+faintly murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How lovely they are,&rdquo; said the
+lady, and taking three bunches, she
+gave two to the young man with her, telling
+him: &ldquo;Harry, you must carry
+these, and pay the child,&rdquo; the third
+one she kept in her own hand.</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman put his hand in his
+pocket, drew it out, and dropped into
+Katie&rsquo;s basket a silver dollar.</p>
+
+<p>The tears almost blinded the little
+girl&mdash;tears of joy over her first success&mdash;she
+could hardly see what the coin
+was, but when she picked it up she
+managed to stammer that she &ldquo;had no
+change.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t want any, little one,&rdquo; said
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a></span>
+the young man pleasantly, &ldquo;the sight
+of you is worth all the money and
+more.&rdquo; Then the couple hurried
+away.</p>
+
+<p>But their stopping had attracted
+many more, and a dozen bought of
+Katie, and, though few were as generous
+as her first customers, she soon
+disposed of most of her stock at ten
+cents a bunch, having gained courage
+to fix and state her price. Quite a
+number gave her more than that sum,
+and she began to feel a very rich little
+girl, indeed.</p>
+
+<p>More than half her stock was sold,
+when an old gentleman and a young
+lady came along. The lady, as usual,
+was the first to admire the bright
+bunches, she took two, the old gentleman
+giving Katie fifty cents and telling
+her that &ldquo;was right.&rdquo; He seemed
+a cross old man, but still spoke pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s your name, child?&rdquo; he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Katie Wilson, sir,&rdquo; replied the little
+girl, faintly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Um! um! Come along Helen,&rdquo;
+said he, hastily, and hurried away.</p>
+
+<p>These were the last of the excursion
+parties, except an elderly lady having
+in charge a dozen children, all dressed
+alike; little ones from a soldiers&rsquo; orphan
+school, for whom some kind person
+had provided a day&rsquo;s pleasure.
+They were tired and worn out with
+romping, and dragged along slowly;
+they looked at Katie&rsquo;s bright face and
+longingly at the pretty leaves in her
+basket. The girl&rsquo;s heart was touched;
+timidly she held out a bunch to a little
+boy who half stopped in front of her,
+he took it eagerly; in a moment the
+others were about her. By good fortune,
+she had enough to give on to
+each and an extra bunch to the lady.</p>
+
+<p>With the thanks of these poor children
+in her heart, an empty basket and a
+happy jingle in her pocket she ran
+nearly all the way home, burst in on
+Bessie, put her arms about her neck
+and sobbed for happiness.</p>
+
+<p>When the elder sister at last succeeded
+in calming her, she told the
+whole story of her afternoon&rsquo;s work.</p>
+
+<p>Together they counted the money&mdash;three
+dollars and eighty-five cents&mdash;just
+think of it!</p>
+
+<p>If ever there was a happy, excited
+little girl, it was Katie that night. She
+could not sleep or eat. When she <em>had
+to</em> go to bed, she lay awake long, long
+hours, thinking how <em>she</em> would buy
+back the big house, how mother should
+have doctors and every thing she
+needed, how Bessie should stop teaching
+and have a horse and little carriage,
+and pretty dresses, and a piano, like
+she used to, and how Robbie should go
+to school and college and grow up to
+be a great man and finally be President.
+She never thought of herself,
+except that <em>she</em> was to do all this, and
+when she fell asleep she dreamed the
+whole thing over again, and that it had
+turned out just as she planned.</p>
+
+<p>All through the excursion season
+Katie sold her leaves, and though she
+never made as much as on the first
+day, yet when people stopped coming
+she had over one hundred dollars in
+Bessie&rsquo;s hands, all made by herself, all
+made by being up early and attending
+to her household duties and working
+hard so as to have her bunches ready
+by the time that visitors were returning
+to the train.</p>
+
+<p>She was brave, and true, and unselfish,
+and her reward was great.</p>
+
+<p>It was one chill November evening,
+toward Thanksgiving day, that she
+and Robbie had wandered out among
+the mountain paths; the little fellow
+was wild as a colt and ran here and
+there until it was all Katie could do to
+keep track of him. Finally she caught
+him; both were tired out, and when
+she looked around, to her great terror,
+she could not make out just where they
+were. They wandered along and at last
+came to a road, but she did not know
+which way to go. Robbie was cross
+and sleepy; she could not carry the
+heavy boy, and he <em>would</em> lay down;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a></span>
+at last she let him rest. He dropped
+by a fallen log and in a moment was
+asleep. She covered him with a little
+cloth cape she wore, and sat down beside
+him; her eyes were heavy, she
+nodded, and very soon was as sound as
+he.</p>
+
+<p>Along the road came a thin, old, but
+active man; he stepped out firmly and
+aided his steps with a stout cane. It
+was after dusk of the evening. He
+spied something in the gloom, on the
+other side of the road, something unusual;
+he crossed over; it was a little
+girl leaning against a big, fallen tree
+and a small boy stretched on the
+ground beside it; both were fast
+asleep. He touched the girl&rsquo;s shoulder;
+she sprang up. &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she gasped,
+&ldquo;don&rsquo;t hurt Robbie! We weren&rsquo;t doing
+any harm, indeed we weren&rsquo;t.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you doing here any how?&rdquo;
+he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was Robbie, no, it was me, he
+was so sleepy and so was I, and we
+were just resting until we could start
+and try to find home again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Um! so you&rsquo;re lost, are you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir, I guess not only&mdash;only we
+don&rsquo;t know the way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I should say that&rsquo;s pretty
+near being lost. Where do you live?
+What&rsquo;s your name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We live in the old Mill cottage,
+and my name&rsquo;s Katie Wilson, and
+Robbie&rsquo;s is Robert T. Wilson.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Um! um! Yes; well, I know where
+you live; come along, I&rsquo;ll put you right.
+Come! wake up here, young man!&rdquo;
+and he gently poked Robbie with his
+cane. But Robbie was sleepy and cross,
+and cried and kicked, and it was all Katie
+could do to get him on his feet and
+moving. Then as they went slowly
+on, she holding her brother&rsquo;s hand, her
+own in that of the stranger, he asked
+her: &ldquo;Weren&rsquo;t you frightened to be out
+all alone?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, no, sir,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;I
+was frightened for mother and Bessie
+being worried, but not for us; I just
+said my prayers and covered Robbie,
+and then I fell asleep and didn&rsquo;t know
+any thing until you woke me up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Um! said your prayers, did you!&rdquo;
+and the old man stopped and looked
+at her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;See here, Katie!&rdquo; he said, in a
+very gentle voice, &ldquo;say your prayers
+for me, I&rsquo;d like to hear them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The child looked at him in astonishment
+and trouble. Could it be that
+the gentleman could not say his
+prayers for himself, that he did not
+pray himself! &ldquo;Oh, sir!&rdquo; she said,
+with choking voice and tears in her
+eyes, &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t say them to you, only to
+Bessie or mother: It&rsquo;s just God bless
+mother, and Bessie and Robbie and me,
+and take care of us in the night and
+day, and&mdash;and that&rsquo;s all, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, never mind now, little Katie,
+come along, we must get Robbie home
+to the mother and Bessie soon, or
+they&rsquo;ll think the bears have eaten you
+both,&rdquo; and the old man&rsquo;s voice was
+still more gentle, and he hurried as
+fast as the little ones could go. He
+knew the roads well, and in half an
+hour they were on a path that the children
+were well acquainted with, and
+near home.</p>
+
+<p>There was a cry of joy, and Bessie
+sprang upon the little ones at a bend
+in the road and gathered them in her
+arms, and kissed and scolded and petted
+them, all at the same time.</p>
+
+<p>The old gentleman hurried away as
+soon as he saw they were safe; but he
+did not go far; he stepped back in the
+dark and heard Katie tell the tale of
+adventure and take all the blame herself,
+and excuse Robbie, and talk about
+the kind gentleman who had found
+them and brought them home, and
+wonder where he had gone so quickly
+before she had time to thank him. He
+followed them at a distance; he saw
+them enter their home, and he watched
+outside until the lamp was lighted in
+the little sitting-room; then he came
+near the window and looked in; he
+watched while the sick, half-blind
+mother cried over her children; he saw
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a></span>
+pale, sweet-faced Bessie comforting all;
+he stood there an hour without noticing
+the cold and wind that grew about
+him. He saw brave, hard-working
+Bessie, and true Katie, and the little
+boy, and the mother of all, kneel at
+their chairs, and he thought he could
+hear the prayers of thanks that came
+from the hearts of all and the lips of
+the older sister, and he felt drops upon
+his cheek, not rain, but tears&mdash;tears. It
+had been many years since his eyes
+had been wet with tears, but they
+were there and they softened the heart
+of &ldquo;hard old man&rdquo; Moore, and he
+turned away at last with a strange resolution
+in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>Three days after he was in the sitting-room
+of that cottage; with him
+was his son Philip, by Philip&rsquo;s side was
+Bessie, looking ever so much younger
+and prettier, and <em>so</em>, <em>so</em> happy, and
+standing by the side of &ldquo;hard old man&rdquo;
+Moore was little Katie, wondering to
+see such an old man wipe the tears
+from his eyes, wondering at the way
+in which he held one arm close around
+her, and wondering still more why he
+should keep saying, all the time, &ldquo;You
+did it, little Katie, you did it all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Wilsons are comfortable and
+happy now. Bessie is Mrs. Philip
+Moore; the mother has doctors and
+luxuries; Robbie is at school and learning
+fast; Katie, <em>our</em> Katie, is learning
+fast also, but she is still the same
+Katie as of old; she did not have to
+sell bunches of leaves another season;
+but there are always great bouquets
+of the beauties in the house, and old
+Mr. Moore, &ldquo;hard&rdquo; no longer, calls her
+nothing but his little &ldquo;Autumn leaf.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 275px;">
+<img src="images/oyf208.jpg" width="275" height="74"
+alt="Birds on a twig" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="the_spinning_lesson" id="the_spinning_lesson"></a>THE SPINNING LESSON.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">MRS. S. J. BRIGHAM.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You will not mind, if I sit me down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And watch you spin, in your velvet gown?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You need not fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You can trust me here.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I think I can learn to spin, if I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could watch you work. Will you let me try?<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You spin and weave, but I cannot see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just how &rsquo;tis done, and it puzzles me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For you have no loom<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In your little room.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No silken skein, no spinning-wheel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No bobbin and no winding reel.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Please tell me what you use instead?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where do you hide your shining thread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As soft as silk<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And as white as milk?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I think, Mrs. Spider, it must be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A secret, or you would answer me.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 451px;">
+<img src="images/oyf209.jpg" width="451" height="600"
+alt="Three kittens in a hammock look down at a puppy" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption green">TREED.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 447px;">
+<img src="images/oyf210.jpg" width="447" height="600"
+alt="The boys look after the baby bird" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">FOSTER PARENTS.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="foster_parents" id="foster_parents"></a>FOSTER PARENTS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Strolling down back of the barn,
+and seeing a fluttering of wings near
+the ground, Fred and John discovered,
+upon coming closer, that a poor
+little bird had fallen from its nest in
+the bough of a tree that stood near
+them. The bird was young, too
+young to fly, and seemed more dead
+than alive from the fall. The boys
+took the bird, fondly caressed it,
+stroked its feathers, and were glad to
+see that it showed signs of life and
+that it was only stunned by the fall
+it had received. The boys were kind-hearted,
+they were boys full of life,
+the first-most in a race, in climbing a
+hill they among the first who stood
+on its top. Yet in all their sports
+they were never cruel. So with the
+bird, they only thought of how to
+care for it. The tree was too tall to
+climb with safety, and then they
+were forbidden to climb this tree because
+John had once ventured to the
+first of its branches and by some accident,
+such as will happen to boys,
+he lost his hold and tumbled to the
+ground and he still remembered the
+days of pain it caused.</p>
+
+<p>Said Fred, &ldquo;Why can we not take
+the bird home and care for it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, with this suggestion, they
+brought it to the house and placed
+it in a small basket. The basket was
+one they used to carry their dinners
+to school in, and, of course, this
+could not be used to keep it in all
+the time. John said, &ldquo;It will be
+best to make a cage for it. We can,
+with our knives, soon whittle out
+sticks for bars and with the saw and
+some boards make a cage.&rdquo; They
+labored on this for two days, and
+then, with Uncle Ben&rsquo;s help, for he
+could drive nails better than they,
+the cage was completed. Some cotton
+was shaped into a nest and the
+bird was placed in it and the cage
+was its home.</p>
+
+<p>They fed it on berries and crumbs
+and it grew rapidly. It soon learned
+to perch on one of the boy&rsquo;s fingers
+and pick its food from his hand.
+When it had eaten enough it would
+fly to his shoulder and seem quite
+contented. In due time it became
+full grown, and though it seemed to
+know and appreciate the attention
+given it by the boys, yet it seemed
+to long for more freedom than the
+little cage afforded. The boys noticed
+this, and with sad hearts concluded
+it would be cruel to keep it
+confined and so gave it its freedom.
+For some time it lingered around
+the house, in branches of the trees,
+but finally it flew away to the woods.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="haymaking" id="haymaking"></a>HAYMAKING.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Many a long hard-working day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life brings us! And many an hour of play;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But they never come now together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Playing at work, and working in play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they came to us children among the hay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the breath of the warm June weather.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oft, with our little rakes at play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Making believe at making hay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With grave and steadfast endeavor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Caught by an arm, and out of sight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hurled and hidden, and buried light<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In laughter and hay forever.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now pass the hours of work and play<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a step more slow, and the summer&rsquo;s day<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Grows short, and more cold the weather.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Calm is our work now, quiet our play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We take them apart as best we may,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For they come no more together!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet smcap">Dora Greenwell.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/oyf211.jpg" width="350" height="242"
+alt="A collection of leafy plants" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2 class="smcap"><a name="window_gardening" id="window_gardening"></a>Window Gardening.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Many a home, now dark and cheerless,
+might be made bright and cheery by
+a few plants in the window, or bunches
+of ferns and bright autumn leaves,
+fastened on the wall, or on the pictures.</p>
+
+<p>Homes cannot be made too bright
+and home-like for the husband and the
+children; and these little things cost
+little or nothing, and add much to the
+general appearance.</p>
+
+<p>A novel and pretty window ornament
+can be made in this way: Take a white
+sponge of large size, and sow it full of
+rice, oats and wheat. Then place it, for
+a week or ten days, in a shallow dish,
+in which a little water is constantly
+kept, and as the sponge will absorb
+the moisture, the seeds will begin to
+sprout before many days. When this
+has fairly taken place, the sponge may
+be suspended by means of cords from
+a hook in the top of the window where
+a little sun will enter. It will thus become
+a mass of green, and can be kept
+wet by merely immersing it in a bowl
+of water.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="cheer_up" id="cheer_up"></a>&ldquo;CHEER UP.&rdquo;</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">BY ANNA ELIZABETH C. KELLY.</p>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it is too bad; too bad! that
+mother should be so troubled for the
+want of a little money,&rdquo; said Mabel.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cheer up! Cheer up!&rdquo; rang out
+a voice close at hand, &ldquo;pretty Poll;
+cheer up!&rdquo; and a bright green parrot
+with a yellow breast began to beat
+against the bars of his cage as if he
+would like to get out.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is a good omen, Polly,&rdquo; said
+Mabel, as she rose and opened the
+door of the cage, &ldquo;but it is not Poll
+who ought to &lsquo;cheer up&rsquo; but I, you
+pretty bird.&rdquo; Poll hopped out and
+perched upon her finger and looked
+so knowingly at her, that it almost
+broke down the resolution she had
+formed. Mabel was accustomed to take
+Poll out and talk to her, and brother
+Ben, who was an amateur photographer,
+had taken a picture of the pretty pair,
+so Polly was already immortalized.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor Ben! Poor Ben!&rdquo; said Polly.
+&ldquo;&lsquo;On Linden when the sun was low&rsquo;&mdash;ha!
+ha! ha! ha! ha! Poor Ben! Poor
+Ben!&rdquo; laughed and shouted Polly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Poor Ben, indeed!&rdquo; said Mabel,
+&ldquo;though the Ben you first heard about
+was another Ben, and used to break
+down with his recitation and be laughed
+at. I wonder where he is now, and
+whether he is dead, my brave soldier
+uncle! If he were alive, and should
+come back, what would he think to
+find another Polly just like the one he
+left behind, who had learned some of the
+things his Polly used to say. Mamma
+says your predecessor died of old age,
+Polly; I wonder if that will be your
+destiny. I shall never know; for I am
+going to sell you to the lady up at the
+hotel, who saw you hanging outside,
+and wanted you for her little girl. She
+said she would give me five dollars, and
+when I refused she offered me ten. I
+could not let you go, Polly, but now I
+<em>must</em>. I must say &lsquo;good-bye&rsquo; to you
+now, Polly, for I shall never take you
+out of the cage again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cheer up! cheer up!&rdquo; sang Polly,
+as Mabel put her back, and closing the
+cage, left the room.</p>
+
+<p>The boys were leaving the sitting-room
+when she went down stairs, and
+as Ben passed her, she said, &ldquo;Do not
+go to bed till I come up again. I want
+to speak to you. Wait in my room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross was getting ready to go up
+to her room when Mabel entered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you going up, mamma?&rdquo; said
+she, &ldquo;I will not keep you long; but I
+want to tell you, that I think I know a
+way for you to get some money. I wish
+to keep it a secret for the present; but
+I think I can safely promise you some.
+The last thing before I came down,
+Polly called, &lsquo;cheer up, cheer up,&rsquo; and
+it is a good omen; so I say the same to
+you, mamma.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are a good girl, Mabel, but I
+am afraid you are too sanguine. How
+can you hope to succeed where I have
+failed?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You will believe me when you see
+the money, shall you not, mamma?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There would not be much merit in
+that, dear, but I will <em>trust</em> you, and
+whatever happens I will believe you
+did what you thought was right, and
+that God does every thing for the best.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you, mamma. Good night,
+and pleasant dreams.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good night, dear.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mabel went softly up stairs. &ldquo;Ben,&rdquo;
+said she, when she reached her room,
+but Ben had fallen asleep, and she had
+to shake him up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What kept you?&rdquo; said Ben, in a
+sleepy tone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, I was not long, Ben. Do
+you now the name of that little girl
+who took such a fancy to Polly?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Ben. &ldquo;It is Eva Granby.
+What do you want to know for?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall tell you sometime, you are
+too sleepy to talk to-night, so I shall
+let you go. Good night, Ben.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good night,&rdquo; said Ben, not sorry to
+be dismissed.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel lay awake some time. She was
+sorry to part with her parrot, but after
+all it was only a bird. Mamma and Ben
+and Walt and dear little Joe should
+not suffer that she might keep it.</p>
+
+<p>She could hear the music, from the
+great hotel on the hill, borne on the
+breeze, and that, with the happy frame
+of mind produced by the approval of
+her conscience, soon had the effect of
+sending her into a sound sleep, from
+which she awoke in the morning, refreshed
+and quite happy. She went
+about her accustomed duties with a
+light heart and singing like a lark.
+Mrs. Ross wondered, to hear her; what
+could be the source of her high spirits.</p>
+
+<p>She was on the alert for a chance to
+put her plan into execution, and when
+she found her mother occupied over
+the details of the breakfast table, she
+went up to her room, and covering the
+parrot&rsquo;s cage and herself with a light
+water-proof cloak, which the chill of
+of the May morning seemed to warrant;
+she went out of the house and
+through the back gate, and took the
+road to the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Granby had just risen, and was
+delighted that Mabel had come to
+terms after all, as her little daughter
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a></span>
+had been longing for the parrot continually.
+Mabel told her story and
+Mrs. Granby was deeply affected. She
+promptly agreed to Mabel&rsquo;s condition,
+to sell her the bird back again, if she
+could get together ten dollars of her
+own to redeem it, and gave Mabel her
+address in New York.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel was at home again just as the
+boys were getting their breakfast, and
+wondering what had become of her.
+She said she had been taking a walk for
+her health and refused to gratify them
+further.</p>
+
+<p>Soon they were through and went
+out, and when she saw little Joe in the
+swing, and Ben and Walt sitting on
+the bench of Walt&rsquo;s making, under the
+apple-tree, and knew by their gestures
+they were discussing Perry&rsquo;s colt&mdash;she
+drew from her pocket the crisp, bright,
+ten-dollar bill, and laid it beside her
+mother&rsquo;s plate. Her mother&rsquo;s fervent
+&ldquo;Thank God,&rdquo; amply rewarded her for
+the loss of the parrot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Mabel,&rdquo; began Mrs. Ross&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, mamma,&rdquo; interrupted Mabel,
+&ldquo;you know you promised to trust me.
+You will soon know all about it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mabel went to school that day with
+a happy heart.</p>
+
+<p>That evening a portly, middle-aged
+gentleman stood at the gate, and as she
+looked up, he said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can you tell me if this is Mrs.
+Ross&rsquo;s?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; said Mabel, wondering
+who he could be. As she turned and
+faced him, he caught his breath quickly,
+and exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Alice!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mabel&rsquo;s heart gave a great bound.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is mamma&rsquo;s name, mine is
+Mabel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lead me to her,&rdquo; he said, hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel quickly ran before him into
+the house exclaiming:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, mamma! I think it is Uncle
+Ben.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Ross would have fallen had she
+not been caught by the strong arms of
+the stalwart brother whom she had not
+seen for twenty years. And then it all
+came out. Mabel&rsquo;s secret was a secret
+no longer.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Ben Grayson, old soldier,
+and retired ranch owner, had come
+back after twenty years of life in the
+west to hunt for his sister, his only
+known relative, whom he had last seen
+when she was a girl like Mabel. He
+had been told a Miss Grayson had died
+from the ravages of an epidemic that
+swept through the school she had been
+placed at; and so, when the war ended,
+he went out west instead of returning
+to New York as he should have done
+but for that false report. But he had
+lately heard, from an old school-friend,
+he had come across, that she was living,
+had married, and become a widow, and
+that was all the information he could
+get.</p>
+
+<p>By the simplest chance he had
+stopped at Fairmount. Shortly after
+rising that morning, he was startled by
+a parrot hung outside the window of the
+room next to his, calling out,&mdash;&ldquo;Cheer
+up! cheer up!&rdquo; and shortly after,&mdash;&ldquo;&lsquo;On
+Linden when the sun was low,&rsquo; ha!
+ha! ha! ha! ha! Poor Ben!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Uncle Ben, &ldquo;you can
+imagine the effect. I knew my parrot
+could not be living yet; but I thought
+to myself, <em>that</em> parrot must have learned
+from my old one or from you, Alice,
+and I hastened to make the acquaintance
+of my next-door neighbor, and so
+<em>I have found you</em>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And Mabel bought her parrot back
+again, which was now doubly dear, as it
+had been the means of finding Uncle
+Ben. And quiet brother Ben was made
+happy by an artist&rsquo;s outfit, and had the
+satisfaction of doing Mabel and the
+parrot in colors, as he had long ago
+done them with the camera.</p>
+
+<p>When the last gift had been given,
+the boys, with one accord, threw up
+their hats and cried,&mdash;&ldquo;Hurrah, for Uncle
+Ben!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As for Mrs. Ross, her measure of
+happiness was full; she had her long
+lost brother Ben.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="waifs_romance" id="waifs_romance"></a>WAIF&rsquo;S ROMANCE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Several years ago the beautiful
+Shenandoah valley in West Virginia
+was the scene of a great freshet. The
+river overflowed its banks, and the
+usually placid stream became a mighty
+torrent, rushing along with frightful
+velocity, carrying away houses, barns
+and cattle. Buildings were washed
+from their foundations by the resistless
+current, and sent whirling down the
+stream with the terrified occupants
+clinging to the roofs. They had not
+had timely warning, and many perished,
+while whole flocks of sheep, and hundreds
+of cows, horses and oxen were
+drowned. The writer visited the valley
+several years afterward, and could
+see articles of clothing and even furniture
+still lodged in the branches of
+trees, they had been caught and
+lodged by the receding waters, twenty
+feet from the ground.</p>
+
+<p>During this visit a most interesting
+story was told of a poor little kitten
+who lost home and friends, and was
+carried by the surging flood far away
+to find a new home and a genuine
+lover. It is a true romance of the
+flood, and it has never been told in
+print so far. For all gentle lovers of animals,
+this beautiful romance of Woggy
+and Waif is given to the world.</p>
+
+<p>In this beautiful valley there lived
+a lovely family, consisting of father,
+mother and two children. Edwin was
+a tall and manly lad of sixteen, and
+Florence was one year younger. They
+were children of refined and cultivated
+parents, and the members of this little
+home circle displayed such charming
+affection and thoughtfulness in their intercourse
+with each other, that it was
+beautiful to behold. Edwin was passionately
+fond of out-of-door sports,
+and Florence had deep love for all
+that was beautiful and interesting in
+nature. She loved animals, birds and
+flowers, and it was her delight to ramble
+with her brother through the
+woods, gathering the modest wild flowers,
+or the delicate maiden hair ferns.
+She took great delight in pets of all
+kinds, and had numerous rabbits, birds
+and squirrels that her brother had trapped;
+she made them all love her; even
+the tiniest bird or animal can appreciate
+tenderness and kindness; and
+Florence&rsquo;s pure little heart was overflowing
+with love and kindness toward
+all God&rsquo;s dumb creatures.</p>
+
+<p>The constant companion of the
+brother and sister in their rambles
+was a very frolicsome and handsome
+dog, which was so remarkable for
+sagacity and intelligence, that he
+was known through all the countryside;
+he was devoted to his young
+mistress, and, though he was not
+a very large animal; he had enough
+of the Shepherd&rsquo;s breed in him to
+make him very fierce and courageous
+in her defense whenever she
+seemed to need it.</p>
+
+<p>At the time of the great freshet, a
+homeless family, whose house had been
+swept away by the flood, had been harbored
+at Florence&rsquo;s home. Her
+time and mind was fully occupied by
+her additional home duties, which to
+her gentle nature, were labors of love,
+even if the overflowed valley had prevented
+her accustomed excursions;
+but not so with Woggy, he had no
+duties to keep him, and no wet ground
+or body of water could keep him from
+taking his usual runs about the country.
+For several days after the great
+flood, he was noticed to leave the house
+regularly in the morning and not return
+until evening. This was something
+unusual; generally his runs were
+finished in one or two hours; but when
+he was observed one day to take in his
+mouth the best part of his breakfast
+and trot off with it, Edwin&rsquo;s curiosity
+was excited, and he resolved to unravel
+the mystery of Woggy&rsquo;s regular absences;
+he followed his tracks over the
+wet ground for nearly two miles, until
+he came to a good sized pond left by
+the receding waters in a hollow near
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a></span>
+the river. The first thing that attracted
+his attention was a partially
+submerged fir tree near the center of
+the ford, and lodged against it was a
+chicken coop. Were there chickens
+in it, do you ask? No; if there had
+been when the angry waves picked it
+up there were none now, but instead,
+the sweetest little <em>kitten</em> you ever saw;
+and crouched down on the trunk of the
+tree, with his aristocratic paws resting
+on the end of the coop, was the mysterious
+Woggy, gravely contemplating the
+kitten, as it minced at the food the generous
+dog had brought it. How proud
+Edwin felt of Woggy as he looked and
+understood the scene. How Woggy,
+in his solitary rambles, must have discovered
+the forlorn kitten, who had
+been suddenly torn from her home, far
+up the valley perhaps, and borne, half
+drowned and thoroughly frightened,
+on the rushing torrent, until her box,
+in which the rising waters had found
+her taking her afternoon nap, had
+lodged against the tree. Edwin wanted
+to rescue her, and take her home.
+This was his first impulse, but how?
+The pond was wide and deep, and he
+had no boat, nor any other means of
+reaching her; so he decided to wait
+until the water got lower, until he
+could devise some plan. He returned
+home in great amazement, and told the
+story of Woggy&rsquo;s wonderful doings.
+Florence was all excitement and sympathy
+in a moment, and wanted to go
+at once but could not. But what a
+delicious hugging and petting Woggy
+got when he returned home that night.
+When Edwin found them, the kitten
+was snuggled up as close to her brute
+protector as the slats would allow;
+she would put her tongue through and
+lick his paws, which process seemed to
+give him the liveliest satisfaction. Edwin
+whistled to him to come home
+with him, but he only wagged his
+bushy tail and looked at his frail charge
+as much as to say, &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t go just
+now.&rdquo; Just think of the idea of protection
+entering the head of a dog!
+but it did. Some animals seem almost
+to reason. We all know a perfect horror
+of water all cats have, they will not
+go into water voluntarily. This poor
+little thing, surrounded by water, must
+have died of starvation had not kind-hearted
+Woggy found and cared for
+her.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, Edwin, provided with
+a long board and other means of rescuing
+the distressed stranger, started for
+the pond. Just as he left the house,
+with Florence calling out from the
+porch some parting injunctions of carefulness,
+what was their astonishment
+to see Woggy coming along the road
+with the kitten in his mouth; the sagacious
+dog had evidently thought that
+his keepless little charge needed more
+care than he could give her, and
+brought her unharmed to his mistress.
+When he had deposited the kitten at
+her feet, he looked up in her eyes as
+though he wanted to tell her something,
+and he really looked as if he
+could almost talk. When Florence
+took up the pretty thing she exclaimed,
+&ldquo;You poor little waif! Where did you
+come from?&rdquo; The little waif could
+not tell, but looked as if she wanted to.
+She was pure white in color, with a
+water-stained ribbon and tiny silver
+bell around her neck. Edwin said she
+should be called Waif, and Waif she
+was ever after called in that house.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="may_i_go_with_you" id="may_i_go_with_you"></a>&ldquo;MAY I GO WITH YOU?&rdquo;</h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;May I go with you, Auntie?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, Jo, I do not wish for any company
+this morning; here&rsquo;s a kiss, and
+you may feed my poodle if you like.&rdquo;
+So saying, Aunt Millie, who was spending
+her vacation at the farm, tied on her
+garden hat, and sallied forth for a walk,
+leaving behind her a very disappointed
+little swain, for Jo generally accompanied
+her in her rambles, and he and
+Aunt Millie were sworn allies. Lately
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a></span>
+she had run off several times without
+him, and he certainly felt quite disconsolate
+to-day. But he could not doubt
+her love and goodness, so he whistled
+away his blues.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 349px;">
+<img src="images/oyf212.jpg" width="349" height="550"
+alt="Portrait of a child" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Jo was only five years old, and it is
+no wonder he soon forgot his grievances.
+About lunch-time he thought
+he would go down in the meadow, to
+see if the first strawberries were ripening,
+as he intended them for mamma&rsquo;s
+birthday.</p>
+
+<p>Threading his way carefully through
+the tall grass and nodding daisies, he
+suddenly came upon
+the queerest looking
+&ldquo;machine&rdquo;&mdash;as he
+called it&mdash;in front of
+which sat Auntie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Jo!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aunt Millie, what
+<em>are</em> you doing?&rdquo; as he
+caught sight of a photograph
+of himself, and
+a large copy on the
+easel.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am crayoning&mdash;and&rdquo;
+(this last a trifle
+averse) &ldquo;I <em>had</em> intended
+it as a surprise
+for mamma, to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The big blue eyes
+raised to hers had a
+suspicion of tears in
+them&mdash;she bent down
+quickly and gathered
+the little fellow in her
+arms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind, pet! I
+was a bit vexed, that
+you had discovered my
+secret.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it a <em>secret</em>?&rdquo; in
+an awed tone; &ldquo;well,
+I&rsquo;ll <em>keep</em> it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you think you
+really can, Jo?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;and
+<em>you</em> can keep my strawberries,&rdquo;
+forgetting he
+had told her a dozen
+times before.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;ll trust
+you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Would you believe
+it, the child <em>did</em> keep
+his word, although burning many
+times to tell; and he succeeded in surprising
+Aunt Millie, as much as he did
+mamma.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="a_summer_at_willow_spring" id="a_summer_at_willow_spring"></a>A SUMMER AT WILLOW-SPRING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The trunks were strapped on the
+back of the carriage; we children, with
+Nurse, were bundled inside; the door
+shut&mdash;the driver snapped his whip&mdash;and
+without any time for last good-byes,
+we were whirled away to the
+station. How excited and glad we
+were, for Papa and Mamma were to follow
+us next day, and we left the
+city far behind to spend the whole
+beautiful summer at Willow-spring.
+The very first day after our arrival, we
+were out&mdash;Willie, my brother, Elsie, our
+little four-year-old sister, and myself&mdash;scouring
+the premises, and I guess
+there were not a nook or corner we had
+not visited by night. It was a lovely
+place, with broad shady walks through
+which we raced, or Willie drove us as
+two spirited young colts, for like most
+boys he was rather masterful.</p>
+
+<p>I wish I could tell you of the grand
+time we had that summer. We formed
+the acquaintance of several little neighbor
+children, who proved pleasant playmates,
+and together we would wander
+through the cool leafy woods, or roam
+the sunny meadows gathering sweet
+wild strawberries and armsful of golden-eyed
+daisies, and taking our treasures
+home, would have a little treat on
+the shady veranda, and garland ourselves
+with long daisy chains, making
+believe we were woodland fairies.
+Once in a while the rabbits from the
+near wood ran across the garden path,
+timid and shy little creatures at first&mdash;they
+grew quite tame from our feeding&mdash;and
+Elsie dearly loved her bunnies,
+as she called them.</p>
+
+<p>Rapidly the days flew by, and the
+time for our departure was at hand.
+We felt sorry to leave, but Mamma, to
+console us in part, planned a little out-door
+feast for the day before our going,
+to which our little friends were all
+invited, and a happy, merry band of
+children played out under the trees,
+and ate the goodies so generously provided.
+Just before breaking up, we all
+joined in playing our favorite game of
+&ldquo;snap the whip,&rdquo; and with screams
+and laughter, one after another of the
+weakest ones rolled over in the soft
+grass. The last night at Willow-spring
+wound up with a grand frolic, in which
+all took part.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="great_expectations" id="great_expectations"></a>GREAT EXPECTATIONS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Every little grape, dear, that clings unto the vine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Expects some day to ripen its little drops of wine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every little girl, I think, expects in time to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Exactly like her own mamma&mdash;as sweet and good as she.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every little boy who has a pocket of his own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Expects to be the biggest man the world has ever known.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every little lambkin, too, that frisks upon the green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Expects to be the finest sheep that ever yet was seen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every little baby colt expects to be a horse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every little puppy hopes to be a dog, of course.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every little kitten pet, so tender and so nice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Expects to be a grown-up cat and live on rats and mice.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every little fluffy chick, in downy yellow dressed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Expects some day to crow and strut or cackle at his best.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every little baby bird that peeps from out its nest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Expects some day to cross the sky from glowing east to west.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now every hope I&rsquo;ve mentioned here will bring its sure event,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Provided nothing happens, dear, to hinder or prevent.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="wheres_sophie" id="wheres_sophie"></a>&ldquo;WHERE&rsquo;S SOPHIE?&rdquo;</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sophie climbed the garden trellis,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Plucked the finest grapes in view;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How they shone with red and amber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As the sun came glinting through.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She was taking painting lessons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And she paused and gazed at them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;a pretty picture,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Grapes and green leaves on a stem.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I will leave them here, unbroken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Close beside the garden walk;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Look!&rdquo; she said, to Cousin Mary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Just anear this broken stalk.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Off they went through pleasant pathways;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Staying longer than they knew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By a russet, leaf-strewn border,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With its asters, pink and blue.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then their friendly gossip over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Homeward as they turned to go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, the grapes!&rdquo; said Sophie, quickly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;We must go for those, you know.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When they reached the precious cluster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Five bold sparrows pertly stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pecking at the grapes beside them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Chattering in a wanton mood.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Look! Oh, look!&rdquo; said cousin Mary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Sparrows at your luscious store!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Shoo!&rdquo; said Sophie, &ldquo;was there ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Such a piece of work before?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pilfering sparrows, you have taught me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By this loss, a lesson true;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When a bunch of grapes I gather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Just to keep them safe from you.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="if_i_can_i_will" id="if_i_can_i_will"></a>&ldquo;IF I CAN, I WILL.&rdquo;</h2>
+
+
+<p>I knew a boy who was preparing to
+enter the junior class of the New York
+University. He was studying trigonometry,
+and I gave him three examples
+for his next lesson. The following
+day he came into my room to demonstrate
+his problems. Two of them he
+understood; but the third&mdash;a very
+difficult one&mdash;he had not performed.
+I said to him,&mdash;&ldquo;Shall I help you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir! I can and will do it, if you
+give me time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I said: &ldquo;I will give you all the time
+you wish.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The next day he came into my room
+to recite another lesson in the same
+study.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Simon, have you worked that
+example?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; he answered; &ldquo;but I can
+and will do it, if you will give me a
+little more time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly, you shall have all the
+time you desire.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I always like those boys who are determined
+to do their own work, for they
+make our best scholars, and men too.
+The third morning you should have
+seen Simon enter my room. I knew
+he had it, for his whole face told the
+story of his success. Yes, he had it,
+notwithstanding it had cost him many
+hours of severest mental labor. Not
+only had he solved the problem, but,
+what was of infinitely greater importance
+to him, he had begun to develop
+mathematical powers which, under the
+inspiration of &ldquo;I can and I will,&rdquo; he
+has continued to cultivate, until to-day
+he is professor of mathematics in one
+of our largest colleges, and one of the
+ablest mathematicians of his years in
+our country.</p>
+
+<p>My young friends, let your motto
+ever be,&mdash;&ldquo;If I can, I will.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="windsor_castle" id="windsor_castle"></a>WINDSOR CASTLE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>This ancient and splendid pile is a fitting
+residence for the sovereigns of
+England. It impresses one with the
+idea of supreme grandeur and formidable
+strength, but it has reached its present
+magnificence by constant embellishments
+and additions by successive
+sovereigns.</p>
+
+<p>It owes its origin to William the
+Conqueror, that bold and progressive
+Norman, who created here a fortified
+hunting seat, where he and his brave
+barons could enjoy themselves after
+the &ldquo;hunting of the deer&rdquo; in the wild
+glades of Windsor forest.</p>
+
+<p>The castle stands upon a hill on the
+bank of the river Thames, twenty-three
+miles from London, with which it is connected
+by railway. It is surrounded on
+all sides, except to the east, by a noble terrace
+above two thousand five hundred
+feet in extent, faced by a strong rampart
+of hewn stone, and having, at intervals,
+easy slopes leading down to the park.</p>
+
+<p>The terrace is a most delightful walk,
+commanding charming views of the extensive
+domain and the surrounding
+country. Everywhere are evidences of
+royal expenditure, of watchful care and
+tasteful ornamentation.</p>
+
+<p>The park abounds in woodland scenery
+of exquisite beauty, and it does
+seem as if the &ldquo;English sunshine&rdquo; was
+nowhere more satisfying or refreshing
+than in these delightful avenues. The
+deer roam at will, and streamlets trickle
+and English violets and other wild flowers
+blossom, the praises of whose delicate
+perfumes and beauties have been
+sung by Wordsworth and Keats.</p>
+
+<p>There is a stately walk, three miles
+long, bordered by double rows of trees,
+which leads from the lodge to these
+delightful precincts, and at the entrance
+stretch away in gorgeous array,
+the Queen&rsquo;s gardens, in which very
+beautiful and rare productions of floral
+culture find a congenial home.</p>
+
+<p>The castle consists of two courts,
+having a large, round tower between
+them, and covers more than twelve
+acres of land, being defended by batteries
+and towers. The upper court is a
+spacious quadrangle, having a round
+tower on the west, the private apartments
+of the sovereigns on the south
+and east, the State apartments and St.
+George&rsquo;s Hall and the chapel royal on
+the north.</p>
+
+<p>The royal apartments are reached by
+an imposing vestibule. The first room,
+the Queen&rsquo;s guard chamber, contains a
+grand array of warlike implements, and
+glittering weapons, and its walls are
+rich in paintings.</p>
+
+<p>The Queen&rsquo;s presence chamber contains
+the rarest furniture and hangings,
+with an array of artistic works by the
+most celebrated masters.</p>
+
+<p>The ball-room is hung with tapestry,
+representing the twelve months of the
+year, and upon its ceiling is pictured
+Charles II, giving freedom to England.
+There is here an immense table of solid
+silver.</p>
+
+<p>In the Queen&rsquo;s bed-chamber is the
+State bed, said to have cost $70,000,
+designed for Queen Charlotte. The
+Queen&rsquo;s dressing-room, hung with British
+tapestry, contains the closet in
+which is deposited the banner of France.
+The same closet contains the tea-equipage
+of Queen Anne.</p>
+
+<p>An elegant saloon is called the &ldquo;Room
+of Beauties,&rdquo; and contains fourteen portraits
+of ladies who were &ldquo;most fair&rdquo; in
+the court of Charles II. Their lovely
+faces and rich apparel, quaint and oddly
+fashioned, make the most delightful and
+instructive study.</p>
+
+<p>The audience chamber contains the
+throne and is enriched with historical
+paintings of events in the reign of
+Henry III. Another guard chamber
+contains an immense collection of warlike
+instruments, fancifully arranged,
+and also the flag sent by the Duke of
+Wellington in commemoration of the
+battle of Waterloo.</p>
+
+<p>St. George&rsquo;s Hall, which is one hundred
+and eight feet long, is set apart for
+the illustrious &ldquo;Order of the Garter.&rdquo;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a></span>
+It is superbly decorated with allegorical
+paintings. The chapel is a fine specimen
+of the florid Gothic. The roof is
+elliptical and is composed of stone; the
+whole ceiling is ornamented with emblazoned
+arms of many sovereigns and
+knights of the Garter. The stalls of
+the sovereigns and knights exhibit a
+profusion of rare carving. The chapel
+is the burial place of many royal and
+illustrious persons; Edward IV, Henry
+IV, Henry VIII and Charles I having
+been interred here.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="the_little_princes" id="the_little_princes"></a>THE LITTLE PRINCES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Among the sad episodes in the illustrated
+history of English sovereigns,
+not one is more pathetic or impressive
+than the story of the two little Princes,
+sons of Edward IV. This King had an
+ambitious and unscrupulous brother,
+called Richard, Duke of Gloucester.</p>
+
+<p>At the time of the King&rsquo;s death, this
+man was at the head of an army in
+Scotland, which was entirely devoted to
+him, and he felt strong and equal to
+undertaking any bold and unlawful
+measure to obtain the crown, which
+rightfully belonged to Edward&rsquo;s son,
+the young Prince of Wales.</p>
+
+<p>Upon receiving the news of his brother&rsquo;s
+death, Richard clothed himself and
+his large retinue in deep mourning and
+proceeded in great haste to London,
+taking the oath of loyalty on the way,
+and making many protestations of interest
+and affection for the fatherless
+boys.</p>
+
+<p>The young Prince of Wales received
+him with many expressions of regard
+and respectful consideration, as befitted
+a paternal uncle, and placed undoubted
+faith in his suggestions; the Duke thus
+found it an easy matter to direct his
+movements, and the selection of his
+counselors and servants. Two of these,
+who were favorite and loyal friends, he
+caused to be seized on a frivolous accusation,
+and they were taken to a distant
+castle as prisoners. Other measures
+were taken to isolate him, and in
+a few days the young King was completely
+in the hands of the terrible
+Duke of Gloucester.</p>
+
+<p>From one high-handed act of usurpation
+to another, assisted by unprincipled,
+ambitious men, he proceeded, evidently
+aiming to secure the crown for
+his own head.</p>
+
+<p>Under pretense of placing the Prince
+in greater safety, and removing him
+from persons who might influence him,
+to the detriment of the peace and welfare
+of the kingdom, he was conducted,
+in great state, to the Tower; his uncle
+assuming the office of Lord Protector
+of the King.</p>
+
+<p>Upon gaining the entire custody of
+the royal lad, he sent a large number of
+dignitaries to the royal mother, to persuade
+her to allow the other little boy
+to be taken to the Tower to keep his
+brother company. The Prince was allowed
+to proceed thither, and Richard,
+now having them both at his mercy, determined
+upon their death.</p>
+
+<p>The Governor of the Tower was, it
+seems, a man of at least human feelings,
+and when he was ordered by
+Richard, &ldquo;In some wise to put the children
+to death,&rdquo; utterly refused to perform
+so dangerous and horrible an act.</p>
+
+<p>Richard then sent for the keys of the
+Tower, to keep in his possession twenty-four
+hours, and gave them, and the
+command of the Tower for that time,
+to Sir James Tyrrel, his master of horse.</p>
+
+<p>This man procured two assassins,
+who proceeded, at dead of night, to
+the chamber of the sleeping Princes.
+They lay in each other&rsquo;s arms, as though
+they had fallen asleep comforting one
+another; and the assassins, falling
+upon them with their ruffian strength,
+smothered them with the bed-clothes,
+&ldquo;Keeping the feather pillows hard upon
+their mouths.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When the deed was done, Tyrrel
+stepped into the chamber, to take a
+hasty view of the dead bodies, which
+were then, by his orders, buried at the
+stair-foot, under a heap of stones.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a></span>
+Richard, Duke of Gloucester, had no
+further obstacle in assuming the purple,
+and was crowned King of England with
+all pomp and ceremony, and known to
+unenviable fame as Richard III.</p>
+
+<p>This account has come down to us
+with all the authority of historical
+verity, and subsequent evidences of its
+accuracy have been discovered. The
+age was characterized by inhumanity of
+the most barbarous kind, and this crime
+was in keeping with it.</p>
+
+<p>The English people in this nineteenth
+century rejoice in a sovereign
+who is noble in the highest sense; beloved
+by her subjects, achieving for
+herself the universal plaudit of a &ldquo;most
+humane and gracious lady.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="the_tower_of_london" id="the_tower_of_london"></a>THE TOWER OF LONDON.</h2>
+
+
+<p>This ancient edifice is situated on
+the north bank of the Thames, at the
+extremity of the city of London.</p>
+
+<p>The antiquity of the building has
+been a subject of much inquiry, but
+the present fortress is believed to have
+been built by William the Conqueror,
+and garrisoned with Normans to secure
+the allegiance of his subjects; although
+it appears that the Romans had
+a fort on this spot, if a dim tradition
+can be credited. The building is governed
+by the &ldquo;Constable of the Tower,&rdquo;
+who, at coronations and other State ceremonies,
+has the custody of the regalia.</p>
+
+<p>The principal entrance is on the west,
+and consists of two gates, at which are
+stationed guards. The keys are kept,
+during the day, at the warder&rsquo;s hall, but
+deposited every night at the Governor&rsquo;s
+house. Cannon are placed at intervals
+around the great wall, and command
+every avenue leading to Tower
+Hill.</p>
+
+<p>On the south side is an arch, called
+&ldquo;Traitors&rsquo; Gate,&rdquo; through which State
+prisoners were formerly brought from
+the river. Near the Traitors&rsquo; Gate is the
+&ldquo;Bloody Tower,&rdquo; in which it is supposed
+the two young Princes, Edward
+V and his brother, were smothered by
+order of Richard III.</p>
+
+<p>In the south-west angle of the inclosure
+were the royal apartments, for
+the Tower was a palace for nearly five
+hundred years, and only ceased to be
+so on the accession of Elizabeth.</p>
+
+<p>The principal buildings within the
+walls are the church, the white tower,
+the ordnance office, the jewel office,
+the horse armory. The church is called
+&ldquo;St. Peter in Vincules,&rdquo; and is remarkable
+as the depository of the headless
+bodies of numerous illustrious personages
+who suffered either in the
+Tower or on the hill. Among these
+were Anna Boleyn, Thomas Cromwell,
+Catharine Howard, the Duke of
+Somerset and the Duke of Monmouth.</p>
+
+<p>The jewel office is a strong, stone
+room, in which are kept the crown
+jewels, regalia, such as the golden orb,
+the golden sceptre with the dove, St.
+Edward&rsquo;s staff, State salt-cellar, sword
+of mercy, golden spurs, the golden
+eagle and golden spoons, also the silver
+font used at the baptism of the
+royal family, the State crown worn by
+her Majesty in Parliament. A large
+collection of ancient plate is also kept
+here.</p>
+
+<p>The horse armory is a brick building
+east of the white tower, adorned with
+suits of armor of almost every description;
+but the most striking are the effigies
+of the English kings on horseback,
+armed cap-a-pie. The line of
+mounted celebrities commences with
+William the Conqueror and ends with
+George II. Several of the cuirasses
+and helmets taken at Waterloo are kept
+here. In the armory are also shown a
+representation of Queen Elizabeth in
+armor; the axe which severed the head of
+Anna Boleyn, as well as that of the
+Earl of Essex; the invincible banner
+taken from the Spanish Armada, and the
+wooden cannon used by Henry VIII at
+the siege of Boulogne.</p>
+
+<p>The Beauchamp Tower is noted for the
+illustrious personages formerly confined
+within its walls.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="mary_and_her_lamb" id="mary_and_her_lamb"></a>MARY AND HER LAMB.</h2>
+
+
+<p>This is the title of one of the most
+familiar poems in the English language,
+but few people know its history.</p>
+
+<p>Most of our young readers will be
+surprised to hear that the well-known
+nursery song of &ldquo;Mary had a Little
+Lamb&rdquo; is a true story, and that
+&ldquo;Mary&rdquo; is still living, says an exchange.</p>
+
+<p>About seventy years ago she was a
+little girl, the daughter of a farmer in
+Worcester county, Mass. She was
+very fond of going with her father to
+the fields to see the sheep, and one day
+they found a baby lamb, which was
+thought to be dead.</p>
+
+<p>Kind-hearted little Mary, however,
+lifted it up in her arms, and as it
+seemed to breathe she carried it home,
+made it a warm bed near the stove,
+and nursed it tenderly. Great was
+her delight when, after weeks of careful
+feeding and watching, her little patient
+began to grow well and strong,
+and soon after it was able to run about.
+It knew its young mistress perfectly,
+always came at her call, and was happy
+only when at her side.</p>
+
+<p>One day it followed her to the village
+school, and not knowing what else to
+do with it, she put it under her desk
+and covered it with her shawl.</p>
+
+<p>There it stayed until Mary was
+called up to the teacher&rsquo;s desk to
+say her lesson, and then the lamb
+walked quietly after her, and the other
+children burst out laughing. So the
+teacher had to shut the little girl&rsquo;s
+pet in the woodshed until school was
+out. Soon after this, a young student,
+named John Rollstone, wrote a little
+poem about Mary and her lamb and
+presented it to her. The lamb grew to
+be a sheep and lived for many years,
+and when at last it died Mary grieved
+so much for it that her mother took
+some of its wool, which was as &ldquo;white
+as snow,&rdquo; and knitted a pair of stockings
+for her, to wear in remembrance of
+her darling.</p>
+
+<p>Some years after the lamb&rsquo;s death,
+Mrs. Sarah Hall, a celebrated woman
+who wrote books, composed some verses
+about Mary&rsquo;s lamb and added them to
+those written by John Rollstone, making
+the complete poem as we know it.
+Mary took such good care of the stockings
+made of her lamb&rsquo;s fleece that
+when she was a grown-up woman she
+gave one of them to a church fair in
+Boston.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as it became known that
+the stocking was made from the fleece
+of &ldquo;Mary&rsquo;s little lamb,&rdquo; every one
+wanted a piece of it; so the stocking
+was raveled out, and the yarn cut into
+small pieces. Each piece was tied to
+a card on which &ldquo;Mary&rdquo; wrote her full
+name, and these cards sold so well that
+they brought the large sum of $140 in
+the Old South Church.&mdash;<i>Our Sunday
+Afternoon.</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="jamies_garden" id="jamies_garden"></a>JAMIE&rsquo;S GARDEN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall have the nicest kind of a garden,&rdquo;
+said Jamie, one morning. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+going to make it in that pretty little
+spot just over the bank. I mean to
+have some flowers in pots and some in
+beds just like the gardener; and then
+you can have fresh ones every day,
+mamma. I&rsquo;m going right over there
+now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jamie started off bravely with his
+spade on his shoulder; but when, after
+an hour, mamma went to see how he
+was getting on, she found him lying on
+the grass, with the ground untouched.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Jamie, where is your garden?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was just lying here, and thinking
+how nice it will look when it is all
+done,&rdquo; said Jamie.</p>
+
+<p>Mamma shook her head. &ldquo;But that
+will not dig ground, nor make the flowers
+grow, little boy. No good deed was
+ever done by only lying still and thinking
+about it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="camp_trio" id="camp_trio"></a>CAMP TRIO.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">A. DE G. H.</p>
+
+
+<p>Hurrah! Hurrah! only two days
+more to vacation, and then!&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>If the crowning whistle, and energetic
+<em>bang</em> with which the strapped
+books came down, were any indication
+of what was coming after the &ldquo;then!&rdquo;
+it must be something unusual. And so
+it was&mdash;for Ned, Tom and Con, who
+were the greatest of chums, as well as
+the noisiest, merriest boys in Curryville
+Academy&mdash;were to go into camp
+for the next two weeks, by way of
+spending part of their vacation. They
+could hardly wait for school to close,
+and over the pages of Greenleaf danced,
+those last two days, unknown quantities
+of fishing tackle, tents, and the
+regular regalia of a camping out-fit.
+They talked of it by day and dreamed
+of it by night.</p>
+
+<p>At last the great day dawned&mdash;dawned
+upon three of the most grotesque-looking
+specimens of boyhood,
+arrayed in the oldest and worst fitting
+clothes they could find; for, as
+they said, in the most expressive boy
+language&mdash;&ldquo;We are in for a rattlin&rsquo;
+good time, and don&rsquo;t want to be togged
+out.&rdquo; They and their effects were taken
+by wagon over to the Lake Shore, about
+four miles distant, to establish their
+camp under the shadow of old Rumble
+Sides, a lofty crag or boulder.</p>
+
+<p>Boys, I wish you could have seen
+them that night, in their little woodland
+home; really, it was quite attractive.
+They worked like beavers all
+day&mdash;cutting away the brush, driving
+stakes to tie down the little white
+tent, digging a trench all around in
+case of rain, and building a fire-place
+of stone, with a tall, forked stick on
+which to hang the kettle. A long board,
+under the shady trees, served as table.</p>
+
+<p>Too tired to make a fire that night,
+they ate a cold lunch, and threw themselves
+on their bed&mdash;which was a blanket
+thrown over pine boughs&mdash;untied
+the tent flaps to let in air, and slept a
+happy, dreamless sleep.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning, early, they were
+up, and, after taking a cold plunge in
+the lake, built a brisk fire, boiled coffee,
+and roasted potatoes for breakfast.
+They then bailed out the punt, which
+was their only sailing craft, and put off
+for an all-day&rsquo;s fishing excursion. Several
+days, with fine weather, passed,
+and the boys declared they were having
+a royal time, and that camping was
+the only life to lead.</p>
+
+<p>They had much difficulty to settle
+upon a name, but finally decided that
+&ldquo;Camp Trio&rdquo; was most appropriate.</p>
+
+<p>One night they were suddenly awakened
+by a deep, roaring sound; the
+wind blew fiercely, it rained hard, but
+the noise was not of thunder, it seemed
+almost human; nearer and nearer it
+came! The three lads sat up in the
+semi-darkness, and peered at each other
+with scared faces.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s Old Rumble broke loose and
+coming down on us,&rdquo; said Con, in a
+ghostly whisper. &ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; and the
+trio clutched in a cold shiver, as a
+crackling of twigs was heard outside,
+a heavy tread, a long, low moan, a horrible
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was the Leviathan, I guess,&rdquo; said
+Tom, with a ghastly attempt at smiling,
+as the early morning light stole
+through the flaps. At length they
+moved their stiffened limbs and peeped
+out. Oh, how it did pour! No fire, no
+fishing, no any thing to-day. Pretty
+soon a shout from Ned, who had been
+cautiously prowling around to find the
+cause of their late fright.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, boys, it&rsquo;s too rich! Why, it was
+Potter&rsquo;s old cow, down here last night,
+bawling for her calf that was after our
+towels, as usual&mdash;look here!&rdquo; and he
+held up three or four dingy, chewed-looking
+articles, which had hung on a
+tree to dry, and might have been towels
+once. The boys broke into a hearty
+laugh at their own expense. The day
+was very long and dull, and the next,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a></span>
+stories and jokes fell flat, cold victuals
+didn&rsquo;t relish, they began to feel quite
+blue. The third day Farmer Potter
+appeared upon the scene.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What on airth ye doin&rsquo; here; trespassin&rsquo;
+on other folks&rsquo; grounds? Mebby
+ye don&rsquo;t know it&rsquo;s agin the law!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boys felt a trifle uneasy, but answered
+him politely.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hevin&rsquo; <em>fun</em>, be ye! Wall, I&rsquo;ll vow,
+settin&rsquo; in the wet, eatin&rsquo; cold rations,
+haint <em>my</em> idee of <em>fun</em>.&rdquo; And away he
+stalked.</p>
+
+<p>The boys looked at each other.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I say, fellers,&rdquo; said Con, &ldquo;a piece of
+pie and a hunk of fresh bread <em>wouldn&rsquo;t</em>
+go bad&mdash;eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The two answered with a hungry
+look.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But let&rsquo;s tough it out over Sunday,
+or they&rsquo;ll all laugh at us.&rdquo; And so they
+did; but it was the longest, dreariest
+Sabbath they ever spent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d rather learn ten chapters in
+Chronicles,&rdquo; Tom affirmed, &ldquo;than put
+in another such a Sunday.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They had, in the main, a jolly time,
+but the ending was not as brilliant as
+they had looked for. They never regretted
+going, but the next year took
+a larger party, and went for a shorter
+time.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="the_sentimental_fox" id="the_sentimental_fox"></a>THE SENTIMENTAL FOX.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, beautiful wild duck, it pains me to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">You flying aloft in that gone sort of way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet one, fare you well. I could shed many tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But my deepest emotions I never betray.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve always admired you, wonderful bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By the light of the sun and the rays of the moon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I tell you &rsquo;tis more than a fox can endure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To know that you take your departure so soon.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I snatched a few feathers, in memory of you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I desired a whole wing, but you baffled my plan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, what a memento to hang in my den!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And in very hot weather to use as a fan.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Descend, O, thou beautiful creature, to earth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There&rsquo;s nothing I would not perform for your sake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If once in awhile I could see you down here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I&rsquo;d never get tired of the shores of this lake!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Cheer up, Mr. Fox,&rdquo; said the duck, flying higher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;The parting of such friends is sometimes a boon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they get far away, and have time to reflect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They see that it came not a moment too soon.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;You wanted a wild wing to fan yourself with;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">You see if I granted that favor to you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Twould have left me but one, which is hardly enough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As I find it convenient, just now, to have two.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then she faded away, a dark speck on the sky.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a very shrewd bird,&rdquo; said the fox in dismay!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I shall have to look round for my dinner, again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I fancy it will not be wild duck to-day.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="earthen_vessels" id="earthen_vessels"></a>EARTHEN VESSELS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Spring time had come, with its blossoms
+and birds; and Mrs. Rossiter
+threw up the sash of the east window,
+and pushed open the blinds, and drew
+a long deep breath of morning air, and
+morning sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think, Bridget,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that
+we might venture to bring the house-plants
+out-doors to-day. There can
+hardly be another frost, this year.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! may I help?&rdquo; asked little
+Charley, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be very careful.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On that condition, that you be very
+careful, you may bring the little ones,&rdquo;
+answered his mother.</p>
+
+<p>The work progressed safely and
+rapidly for awhile. Geraniums, roses,
+fuchsias, heliotropes, and so following,
+came forth in profusion, many in
+bloom, and were placed in rows along
+the garden borders, ready to be transferred
+to the beds, for the summer. At
+last the little ones were all brought by
+Charley, and only larger ones remained.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll carry just this one big one,&rdquo;
+he said to himself: &ldquo;I&rsquo;m stronger
+than mother thinks I am.&rdquo; But the
+pot full of earth, was heavier than Charley
+had thought it, and before he
+reached the place to set it down it had
+grown very heavy indeed; and, glad to
+get it out of his aching arms as quickly
+as possible, he placed it on the curb so
+suddenly, that with a loud crash it
+parted in the middle and lay in pieces
+at his feet. Glancing quickly at his
+mother and seeing in her face impending
+reproach, he forestalled it by exclaiming:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, that pot broke itself very
+easily. What&rsquo;s it made of, any how?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The mother couldn&rsquo;t help but smile
+at this attempted shifting of the blame
+to the pot, but she answered, in a moment,
+gravely:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The pot, Charley, was made of clay;
+the same weak material from which
+little boys are made; who, when they
+forget to obey their mothers, are as
+likely to meet disaster as the earthen
+pot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Charley didn&rsquo;t care just then to discuss
+disobedient boys, so he turned at
+once to the subject of the pot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Made of clay,&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;well,
+I&rsquo;d like to see a man make a thing like
+that of clay.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And so would I,&rdquo; said sister Mary,
+who, from an upper window, had listened
+to the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And so you shall, if I have no further
+reminders of this sort, that my
+children are made of the same unreliable
+material.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon, the three, started
+for the pottery works. Mr. Sands, the
+proprietor, kindly received them, and
+fully explained all his processes. First
+he pointed out what seemed to Charley
+a heap of dry hard common dirt; taking
+a little piece of this he dipped it
+into a basin of water and then squeezing
+and pressing it in his hand it soon
+became soft, and plastic, so that it
+could be wrought to any shape. He
+then led the party to another room
+where a young man was engaged in
+thus softening large masses. He would
+first crumble the hard earth into fine
+pieces; then wet and pack it together
+into a &ldquo;loaf,&rdquo; so Charley called it, and
+then raising it over his head throw it
+again with all his might upon the table
+before him until it became soft and
+smooth through all its bulk. This, Mr.
+Sands said, was called &ldquo;wedging the
+clay,&rdquo; and that it was now ready for
+&ldquo;throwing&rdquo; into shape.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will it come into shape if you just
+throw it?&rdquo; said Charley.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sands laughed heartily at this,
+and answered, &ldquo;come and see;&rdquo; and
+taking up one of the softened &ldquo;loaves,&rdquo;
+to use Charley&rsquo;s word for them, he led
+the way to the next room. The young
+man who had been &ldquo;wedging&rdquo; now
+followed and placed himself at a large
+wheel which was connected by a strap
+or belt with a table at which Mr. Sands
+seated himself.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 445px;">
+<img src="images/oyf213.jpg" width="445" height="600"
+alt="Different stages in the process of making pots" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HOW POTS AND PANS ARE MADE.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the table was another little
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"><!-- original location of illustration HOW POTS AND PANS ARE MADE --></a></span>
+table, round and low, and upon this
+Mr. Sands placed his &ldquo;loaf.&rdquo; Then
+the young man began to turn the
+wheel and the loaf began to spin round
+very rapidly. Mr. Sands next pressed
+his finger right through the middle of
+the clay, so farming the hole which we
+always see at the bottom of flower-pots.
+Then, as it spun round, he
+worked the clay gradually upwards and
+sloped it outwards, using both hands,
+and holding the edges with his fingers
+and thumbs.</p>
+
+<p>Before Charley could express his surprise,
+the little roll of clay was changed
+into a flower-pot. With a square iron
+tool called a <i>rib</i> it was smoothed outside,
+and then the pot was lifted on a
+board. One after another followed till
+a long row was ready and they were
+carried off to be dried.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How do you know when to leave
+off stretching it?&rdquo; asked Mary of the
+potter.</p>
+
+<p>He laughed, and pointed to a small
+iron gauge on the table. As soon as
+the pot reached this he knew he must
+leave off stretching it out. This iron
+is of course put higher or lower according
+to the size required.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now I&rsquo;ll make you a pitcher, missie,&rdquo;
+said the good-natured man, and
+with the same kind of clay, just rounding
+it a bit and giving a cunning little
+pinch to form the spout, he made quite
+a pretty jug.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where&rsquo;s the handle?&rdquo; asked Charley.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, that can&rsquo;t go on yet, sir! We
+must wait till the jug is dry, for we
+could not press it tight enough to make
+it stick.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Bread-pans and washing-pans are
+made in exactly the same way as flower-pots,
+being moulded by the hand into
+different forms. When the pots and
+pans leave the potter&rsquo;s wheel they are
+taken, as we saw, to dry, and great care
+is required to keep them at a certain
+heat, for if the frost gets to them now
+they crack and are useless.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s a comical little pot!&rdquo; exclaimed
+Charley, holding up a wee one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We call them <i>long Toms</i>,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Sands. &ldquo;They are mostly used by nursery-gardeners,
+because they take so
+little room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How long do they take to dry?&rdquo;
+asked Mary, looking longingly at her
+little jug.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;About a day; so we will leave your
+jug with the others, and go to the kiln
+to see how they will be burnt to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The kiln was round, with a big doorway,
+called a wicket.</p>
+
+<p>The pots and pans are put inside,
+great care being taken that they should
+not touch each other, or they would
+stick like loaves of bread. Pans are
+first glazed with a mixture of blue or
+red lead. The fire is burning below,
+and there are holes to allow the flames
+to pass upwards amongst the pottery.
+When the kiln is full the wicket is
+bricked up and daubed over with road-mud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fancy using such dirty stuff!&rdquo; said
+Mary.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The manure in it makes it stick,
+just as hair does in mortar. Clay would
+crack with the heat. So you see, dear,
+there&rsquo;s nothing so dirty or so common
+that it may not be of some use in the
+world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How do you know when they are
+cooked enough?&rdquo; asked Charley.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll show you,&rdquo; said Mr. Sands, and
+he immediately led us to a small door,
+which opened some way up the kiln.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is called the crown,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Sands.</p>
+
+<p>It was a flat surface, with four holes
+which showed the red heat below, and
+looked like little volcanoes in a good
+temper.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you see those iron rods hanging
+like walking-sticks in the furnace?&rdquo;
+asked our guide. &ldquo;Well, those are
+called <i>trials</i>, and at the end of each is
+a lump of clay and glaze. If the glaze
+is burnt enough we suppose that the
+whole batch is done, but we sometimes
+make a mistake and spoil a lot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a></span>
+&ldquo;What is done next?&rdquo; asked Charley.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If they are properly burnt, they are
+allowed to cool gradually, and are then
+ready for sale.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>By this time all were pretty well
+tired, and so they said good morning to
+Mr. Sands and went home.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; said Charley, as they sat
+down to dinner, &ldquo;I shall ask how it&rsquo;s
+done oftener than ever, now, for I like
+going over factories. What&rsquo;s to be the
+next one, I wonder.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bread,&rdquo; exclaimed Mary, as she cut
+a big slice for herself. &ldquo;Shall it be
+bread, mother?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, if you like, but I propose we
+go to see the flour made first. So the
+next place we explore will be a flour-mill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="author">E. M. W.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="birdies_breakfast" id="birdies_breakfast"></a>BIRDIE&rsquo;S BREAKFAST.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">MRS. S. J. BRIGHAM.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Take your breakfast, little birdie,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cracker-crumbs, and seeds so yellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bits of sponge-cake, sweet and mellow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come quite near me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Do not fear me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can hear your happy twitter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although winter winds are bitter;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take your breakfast, little birdie.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come! Oh, come and tell me birdie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All night long the snow was falling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long ago, I heard you calling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell me, dearie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are you weary?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can you sleep, when winds are blowing?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frosts are biting, clouds are snowing?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come! Oh, come and tell me, birdie!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Take your food, and trust me, birdie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Daily food the Father giveth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bread to every thing that liveth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come quite near me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Do not fear me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come each day, and bring your fellow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For your bread, so sweet and mellow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take your food, and trust me, birdie.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="a_battle" id="a_battle"></a>A BATTLE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Do you like accounts of battles?
+Here is one for you. I shall have to
+tell of a well-disciplined army, and some
+hard fighting, as well as of a victory.</p>
+
+<p>The scene is a quiet country district,
+with fields and hedge-rows, not looking
+a bit like war and bloodshed, and the
+time is a summer afternoon, hot, for it
+is July, and a haze is over the mountains,
+which rise a little way behind,
+as silent witnesses of the fray. The
+sun begins to decline, and as the air
+grows cooler the army has orders to
+start. There is a short delay of preparations,
+and then the warriors pour
+forth; not in confusion, but in a compact,
+unbroken column, each keeping to
+the ranks in perfect order, and never diverging
+from them. At first the army
+follows the high road, but ere long
+it passes through an opening in the
+hedge, and crosses the field on the
+other side. Still the soldiers march on,
+never hindered, never straggling out of
+place. It must have been a clever commander-in-chief
+to have trained them
+into such admirable obedience.</p>
+
+<p>Presently a fortress rises before them&mdash;<em>that</em>
+is the object of their expedition;
+rather, it is something within the citadel
+that they are sent to get, and have
+it they <em>will</em>. Not without a struggle,
+though, for the enemy is on guard, and
+when he sees the hostile army approaching,
+he sallies out to battle. He
+has no idea of surrendering without a
+fight for it.</p>
+
+<p>The invaders gather up their forces
+and charge bravely up the hill, and in
+an instant, hand to hand, or something
+very like it, the foes are locked together
+in desperate conflict. Neither have
+they any guns, but they carry sharp
+weapons with them, and soon the field
+is strewn with the dead and dying.</p>
+
+<p>The fight thickens&mdash;the issue is
+doubtful, but not long&mdash;the defenders
+are routed, and the assailants press forward
+to the citadel. Most skillful are
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a></span>
+they, for with neither cannon nor battering-rams
+they speedily make a breach
+in the walls, and in they rush, pouring
+through the street and lanes of the devoted
+city. Yet they do not destroy it&mdash;they
+do not kill the inhabitants&mdash;they
+do not even stay within the walls
+so hardly won. In a very short space
+of time they return as they came, save
+that each bears a portion of the spoil
+for which they came. They form in
+order once again, they march in line,
+they regain their own quarters, but
+each one carrying&mdash;would you believe
+it?&mdash;a <em>young slave</em>.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf214.jpg" width="500" height="368"
+alt="Ants heading out on an expedition" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Yes, the army did not care to conquer
+the strange city; the expedition
+was organized solely and entirely that
+they might steal the young and bring
+them up in their own colony as slaves.
+For, through the long influence of evil
+habits, the race to which these warriors
+belong have lost their natural
+powers, and so have now to be waited
+on, fed, and altogether taken care of by
+its slaves. With food before them they
+would starve unless the slaves put it
+into their mouths.</p>
+
+<p>If they want to change their abode,
+the slaves must make the new habitation
+ready, and then carry their masters
+on their backs to reach it. If the
+children have to be taken care of, the
+slaves must be the nurses. In fact,
+<em>fighting</em> is the one single thing they
+<em>can</em> do, and that, as we have seen, they
+do well. As the supply of slaves is
+necessary to their existence, every now
+and then they have to go and help
+themselves in the way we have just
+seen them do; and though the idea of
+slavery is abhorrent to every mind, we
+must allow that they are brave soldiers,
+and under excellent discipline.</p>
+
+<p>Now, can you tell me who the soldiers
+are? Go back to your history stories
+and think. Some old Roman race,
+perhaps, or the early inhabitants of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a></span>
+Britain, when people knew no better?
+Or some tribe of savages in America,
+or the South Sea islands at the present
+time? Nay, you must guess again, or
+shall I tell you? Yes, you give it up.
+Well, then, it is a people &ldquo;not strong;&rdquo;
+small and insignificant, yet wise, for
+this is what the Bible says, &ldquo;Go to the
+<small>ANT</small>, consider her ways and be wise.&rdquo;&mdash;Prov.
+vi:10.</p>
+
+<p>This race of warriors is none other
+than the slave-keeping ant, (<i>Polyergus
+rufescens</i>). I do not think you would
+meet with it in our woods, but in Switzerland
+and other countries it is common.
+Huber, who wrote so much about bees
+and ants, first witnessed an attack near
+Geneva. I should tell you that the
+young which they carry off are the
+larva or young grubs, which, transferred
+to the nests of the conquerors,
+soon become ants, and live the rest of
+their lives in serving them, and waiting
+on them, as slaves or servants would
+their masters.</p>
+
+<p>How extraordinary! Do they pine
+for their own kind? Are they happy
+in their bondage? We do not know,
+but as far as we can judge they render
+a willing and cheerful service, forgetting
+themselves in what they do for
+others. Then, of course, they are happy;
+we need not repeat the question; we
+are only lost in wonder at this strange
+and interesting page in Nature&rsquo;s book.</p>
+
+<p class="author">M. K. M.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="grace_darling_the_heroine" id="grace_darling_the_heroine"></a>GRACE DARLING, THE HEROINE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>I presume most of you have heard of
+Grace Darling, the brave girl who lived
+with her father and mother at Longstone
+light-house. On the 6th of September,
+1838, there was a terrible storm,
+and W. Darling, knowing well that
+there would be many wrecks, and much
+sorrow on the sea that dark, tempestuous
+night, waited for daybreak; and
+when at last it came, he went to look
+out. About a mile away he saw a ship
+in great distress, but the storm was so
+awful he had hardly courage to venture
+through it for their relief. His daughter
+Grace, who was watching the wreck
+through a glass, could no longer bear
+to see the poor fellows clinging to the
+piece of wreck which remained on the
+rocks where it had been broken, and
+make no effort to help them. She
+knew they must be lost. So she implored
+her father to launch the life-boat
+and let her go with him to the rescue.
+He consented, and father and
+daughter, she taking the oars while he
+steered, went pulling away for the
+wreck; and I can fancy how the poor
+fellows watched the life-boat like a
+speck on the waters, counting each
+minute as it neared them, then fearing,
+as it seemed to be almost lost amid the
+mountains of hissing and boiling waves,
+lest it should never come to them at
+all. But at last they are alongside; the
+sufferers hesitate not a moment, but
+jump for the life-boat, and so nine precious
+lives were saved from a watery
+grave.</p>
+
+<p>Every one sang the praises of brave
+Grace Darling. A sum of $3,500 was
+presented to her as a testimonial, and
+she was invited to dine with the Duke
+of Northumberland. She died at the
+early age of twenty-seven, of consumption.</p>
+
+<p>Now, my readers cannot all be Grace
+Darling, but they can come to the help
+of the perishing; those that are weary
+and ready to die. They can all do
+something, by working, by little efforts
+of self-denial, and by praying for those
+who are in danger of being lost; and
+then one day they will hear those wonderful
+words, &ldquo;Inasmuch as ye have
+done it unto the least of these, ye have
+done it unto me.&rdquo; A testimonial
+worth having indeed!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="adam_and_eve" id="adam_and_eve"></a>ADAM AND EVE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Adam and Eve are my two pet doves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They live in a cot in the maple tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They coo and coo as other doves do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I know they are fond of me.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Eve is a dear little milk-white dove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her eyes and feet are of coral red.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She wears a quill of gray in her wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And a small white cap on her head.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Adam is bold, and he struts about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In coat and vest of chocolate brown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eve is as sweet as a dove can be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And Adam will sometimes frown.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Adam and Eve are my two fond doves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Their cottage stands in the maple tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They coo and coo, as other doves do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And often take lunch with me.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet smcap">Mrs. S. J. Brigham.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="swinging_song" id="swinging_song"></a>SWINGING SONG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Swinging! Swinging!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up where the bees and the butterflies are,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Winging! Winging!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their flights &rsquo;mong the blossoms that shine near and far.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Ringing, Ringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Song of the blue-bird and bobolink&rsquo;s call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Singing, Singing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in this beautiful world are they all!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Clinging, clinging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this green shadow, the clematis swings.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Bringing, bringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hints of strange odors, and dim woodland things.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Flinging, flinging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The snow-ball, its white, pretty blossoms on me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Springing, springing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The damask rose climbs to the lattice to see!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Backward my hair is floating and swaying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Here o&rsquo;er the garden-walk softly I sing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far more delightful, than wearily straying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is it to dream here, while gently I swing.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf215.jpg" width="500" height="274"
+alt="Children at the beach" />
+</div>
+
+<h2 class="smcap"><a name="how_the_days_went_at_sea_gull_beach" id="how_the_days_went_at_sea_gull_beach"></a>How the Days Went at Sea-Gull Beach.</h2>
+
+
+<p>No school! And the beautiful summer
+days coming so early in the
+morning, that none of us children ever
+could get awake to see the sun rise, and
+staying so long that we grew quite
+tired of being happy; and some of us,
+Gracie and Jimmie in particular, were
+so little, that they couldn&rsquo;t stay awake
+through the whole of it, and went off
+into a nap every day after dinner.</p>
+
+<p>But this was in the city, and when we
+arrived at the beach we didn&rsquo;t get tired
+or cross the whole day long. There
+were many children at the hotel, and
+when we came, with our dolls and toy
+boats, our fishing-tackle and spades,
+and pails, we made a host of friends
+immediately.</p>
+
+<p>Reginald and Willie, our older brothers,
+did not always go with Gracie and
+Jimmie and me, but made the acquaintance
+of the men that went out to sea
+to fish for the great hotels; and they
+went oftentimes with them, and we
+used to enjoy seeing the little boats
+launched; they almost stood on end
+when they went over the breakers,
+making us scream with excitement and
+delight. And as the little fleet grew
+less and less, and at last disappeared,
+we girls thought it was a grand thing
+to have such brave brothers.</p>
+
+<p>I was the elder girl, being ten, and
+Gracie seven. Our Gracie was a lovely
+little sister; she had large blue eyes,
+and wavy brown hair, and was very
+gentle and obedient, and people called
+her &ldquo;Pet,&rdquo; almost as soon as they became
+acquainted with her.</p>
+
+<p>Mother had blue flannel suits made
+for us, and dressed in these, with
+sailor hats that had little tapping ribbons
+at the sides, we scurried along
+the beach, climbed the rocks, or waded
+out into the salt water.</p>
+
+<p>But we had on our very prettiest
+dresses in the evening, for the children
+were allowed to have the grand
+parlor, and dance to the music of the
+band until nine o&rsquo;clock. This was a
+privilege we older ones talked of continually,
+and looked forward to all day.
+We were so dainty, genteel, and good-mannered
+for an hour, that it impressed
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a></span>
+even ourselves; and boys and girls became
+models of gentleness and polite
+behavior, and the effect of those delightful
+evenings has given growth and
+direction to many graces in our character.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf216.jpg" width="500" height="333"
+alt="Two children dancing together" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">DANCE TO THE MUSIC OF THE BAND.</p>
+
+<p>But the little ones, like Gracie and
+her friends, really couldn&rsquo;t stand the
+excitement, and rolled around in odd
+corners on the floor, or sought the
+grateful obscurity behind the sofas, to
+indulge in naps, long before nine
+o&rsquo;clock. I found Gracie, in her pink
+silk dress and violet slippers, lying
+curled up under the table, with her
+head on the back of Bosin, the great
+Newfoundland dog that had stolen into
+the parlor against rules.</p>
+
+<p>Nelson Faber was a little boy, not
+much older than Gracie, and they
+seemed to enjoy each other&rsquo;s society
+very much. He too oftentimes succumbed
+to sleepiness when we wanted
+him to do his sailor dance; but when
+the morning came, they were as rosy-cheeked
+and bright-eyed as ever, and
+trotted along the pleasant walks with
+their hoops and pails, inseparable
+friends. It was fortunate for Gracie, too,
+that he preferred to play with her,
+rather than to go off with the boys, for
+one day after a boisterous night, the
+sea came up higher on the beach than
+we had ever before seen it; and unsuspecting
+Gracie was caught by a wave
+and thrown down, and as it retired it
+seemed to drag her along with it; we
+older ones lost our presence of mind
+entirely, and screamed and cried, and
+did nothing, but that heroic little fellow
+ran into the boiling surf and caught her
+dress, and with the dog&rsquo;s assistance,
+dragged her to a safe place. She said
+he was, &ldquo;Very nice and dood.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>One day, some of my girl companions
+proposed to visit the rocks that
+lay at the mouth of Green river, just
+where it gently met the ocean. Right
+there, no end of sea-weed and shells,
+and things thrown up by the ocean,
+could be found; and there were such
+curious rocks, with nooks and basins,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a></span>
+where the water stayed in tiny pools,
+and there we went fishing, and brought
+lunch, setting it out on the most convenient
+flat rock we could find. I tell
+you, cold chicken, pickles, cheese, and
+sponge cake, with milk, tasted as they
+never did
+before or
+since, to
+our party
+of hungry
+children.
+We climbed
+and fell,
+and laughed,
+and
+chatted,
+with the
+salt breeze
+lifting our
+hair, and
+fanning
+our brown
+faces, and
+going out
+far on the
+point, we
+came upon
+a little
+shining
+lake, surrounded
+by
+rocks, upon
+which we
+could sit,
+and dabble
+our feet in
+the water.
+It was no
+place more
+than a foot
+deep, and
+we decided
+to wade
+round in it.
+It was a comical sight to see us navigating
+ourselves in procession through
+that water, but it was a very questionable
+joke, when Milly Sayre
+jumped and screamed, and ran like a
+frantic creature from the pool, and up
+the rocks.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the matter, Milly,&rdquo; we cried.
+&ldquo;Are you hurt? What did you see?&rdquo;
+we breathlessly shouted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! oh!&rdquo; was all she could gasp,
+pointing to a place she had just left.
+We all scrambled out instantly, and
+peered
+over the
+rocks into
+the water.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 379px;">
+<img src="images/oyf217.jpg" width="379" height="500"
+alt="Nelson and Gracie walking together" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">INSEPARABLE FRIENDS.</p>
+
+<p>What
+should we
+see but a
+little creature,
+grotesque
+and
+hideous,
+that made
+its way
+round in
+the water,
+with astounding
+celerity,
+throwing
+out legs
+or claws,
+or whatever
+they
+were, from
+every point
+of its circumference.
+Its
+body was
+flat and
+was a green
+color above
+and pink
+under, and
+to add to
+its alarming
+appearance,
+it
+looked at
+us with two black eyes, in a very sinister
+and uncanny manner. We looked at
+each other with blanched faces and
+speechless horror, and then kept a sharp
+lookout, lest it might take it into its
+head (we couldn&rsquo;t tell if it had any
+head, for the place where the eyes were,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a></span>
+did not seem different from any other
+part of its body,) take it into its &ldquo;internal
+consciousness,&rdquo; to crawl out on to
+the rocks and chase us. It got through
+the water in a distracting manner,
+which was really quite amusing after a
+few moments, and from being horribly
+frightened, we became interested when
+we found it did not attempt the offensive.
+We gave it some lunch and
+called it &ldquo;Jack Deadeye,&rdquo; and for the
+whole afternoon he was the center of
+attraction.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let us take him back with us,&rdquo; I
+proposed. &ldquo;We can get him into a
+pail, and then we can have him in some
+pool nearer home, and see what he&rsquo;ll
+turn into. I don&rsquo;t believe but what
+he&rsquo;ll be something else in a few days.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>My knowledge of natural history had
+always been lamentably meager, and
+more than once I had brought the
+laugh upon myself by my ignorance.
+So I forbore to predict what would be
+his ultimate form of beauty.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A whale!&rdquo; said Susie Champney.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, dear, no; whales don&rsquo;t have
+legs and claws,&rdquo; said Estella Bascom.
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a tadpole.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re mistaken there,&rdquo; said Mamie
+Fitz Hugh; &ldquo;tadpoles are just the
+little jokers that do have tails. I&rsquo;ve
+seen hundreds of them, and this creature
+has no tail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>We all rushed again to the edge of the
+rocks to look at him, with added wonder.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, we&rsquo;ll take that tad home on
+a pole, any way,&rdquo; said Nannie White,
+who was the cutest girl to say things
+in the whole crowd. She immediately
+ran off to secure a piece of drift that
+was tumbling about on the wet sand.
+But how to get him into a pail was the
+next problem. A committee of the
+whole was called. I thought we could
+obstruct his path by putting the mouth
+of the pail in front of him, and then
+when he sailed into it, we could instantly
+pull him out. This was decided
+upon; but how to get it down to him
+without falling in? A bright idea struck
+me. I whipped off my flannel sash, and
+running it through the handle, dashed
+it into the water; but that proceeding
+only frightened him&mdash;we must move
+more cautiously. We worked for an
+hour and had him in twice, but were so
+excited both times that he escaped.</p>
+
+<p>First time, Totty Rainsford shouted,
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ve got him!&rdquo; and immediately
+rolled off the rocks, head first, into the
+water. We were all so scared, with the
+water splashing, and she screaming at
+the top of her voice, &ldquo;Save me! Save
+me!&rdquo; that Jack got away. She scrambled
+out pretty lively, and when we got
+him in again, we were all seized with
+another fit of laughing at Totty, who,
+in her moist predicament, was jumping
+round to dry herself, because she didn&rsquo;t
+want to go home, that he crawled out
+as leisurely as possible. But we secured
+him at last, safe in the pail; and
+to prevent his crawling out, I clapped
+my sailor hat over the top of it, and the
+elastic kept it down tight. We put the
+pole through the handle and Estella
+and myself took hold of the ends, and
+we came near losing him every few
+minutes, owing to the inequalities of
+the ground. The pail would slide down
+to either end, as the pole inclined, and
+Estella would drop it and scream when
+she saw the pail traveling noiselessly
+toward her, and if it hadn&rsquo;t been for
+my happy thought of putting the hat
+over him, he&rsquo;d have got away to his
+&ldquo;happy hunting grounds,&rdquo; or rather,
+waters, in short order.</p>
+
+<p>We arrived at the hotel at last, with
+Jack all safe, and the rest of the girls
+went to dress for dinner, and left me
+to find the boys, to help me deposit
+him in a secure place, for we were sure
+we should very greatly astonish the
+boarders and achieve renown as having
+discovered a new species of marine
+beast.</p>
+
+<p>The boys were in a perfect ecstacy
+of curiosity to see what the girls had
+caught. When I carefully took off the
+hat, I found the water had all leaked
+out, and his monstership lay kicking
+and crawling at the bottom.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Ho! ho! ho!&rdquo; shouted Willie, &ldquo;is
+that what-cher call a curiosity?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Flossie! you have been dreadfully
+taken in,&rdquo; said Regy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s this wonderful
+animal that&rsquo;s been &lsquo;taken in,&rsquo; and
+he&rsquo;s going to be kept in, too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I began to feel, though, that
+there was a great laugh somewhere
+in the future, and that it was coming
+at our expense.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Flossie! it&rsquo;s nothing but
+a baby crab,&rdquo; said Regy. &ldquo;I can
+get a peck of them in an hour, over
+in the river.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I felt greatly chagrined, and
+blushed with mortification. The
+boys kept bursting out laughing
+every few minutes, asking such questions
+as:</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/oyf218.jpg" width="550" height="479"
+alt="The children look at the crab" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HOW MANY GIRLS DID IT TAKE TO LAND HIM?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How many girls did it take to land
+him?&rdquo; &ldquo;Was he gamey, Flossie?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Did ye bait him with a clam-shell, or
+an old boot? they&rsquo;ll snap at any thing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! I&rsquo;d given away my dinner to
+have been there!&rdquo; and then Regy
+would stir him up with a stick, and
+turn him on his back, all of which
+caused me to scream every time, and
+sent tremors all over me.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What-cher goin&rsquo; to do with him?&rdquo;
+inquired Willie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall study his habitudes, and improve
+my knowledge of the crustacea,&rdquo;
+said I, giving him a sentence directly
+out of my text-book. &ldquo;I shall look at
+him every day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and he&rsquo;ll look at you every
+night. I have read a book that told
+about a traveler that offended a crab
+once, and he informed the other crabs,
+and they all made for him at night, and
+twenty thousand of them came that
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a></span>
+night and crept under his tent,
+and sat there and looked at him.
+And there he was in the middle
+of them, and you know their
+eyes are fastened in their heads
+by a string, and they can throw
+them out of their heads and
+draw them back again; and, at
+a signal, they all threw their
+eyes at him. He was so horrified
+that night, that he got insane
+and had to be sent to a lunatic
+asylum.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve heard your stories before,
+Regy, and I simply don&rsquo;t credit
+them. We girls are going to
+hunt up a pond to put him in,
+where we can pet him, and educate
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;d best hunt up a frying
+pan to put him in; he&rsquo;s
+capital eating for breakfast,
+well browned, with hard-boiled
+eggs and parsley
+round him,&rdquo; said Reginald.</p>
+
+<p>I told him if he couldn&rsquo;t
+do any better than to lie
+there and make an exhibition
+of his bad taste and
+ignorance, he&rsquo;d
+better get up and
+work off the fit.
+I insisted upon
+his helping me
+to fill the pail
+with salt water,
+and hang him
+upon the rocks
+until we could
+make a future,
+permanent disposal
+of him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 426px;">
+<img src="images/oyf219.jpg" width="426" height="600"
+alt="A little boy with the crab, and sailing boats" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;WHERE WE CAN PET AND EDUCATE HIM.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>That evening
+our parlor manners
+were
+somewhat
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a></span>
+less decorous and elegant, owing to
+the fact that Reginald and Willie had
+been industriously circulating the episode
+of the morning, with such additions
+as they thought would add point
+and piquancy, among the rest of the
+boys, and there was no end of innuendo
+and witticism indulged in, that
+caused the young gentlemen to retire
+in groups and laugh; and we could
+hear such remarks as, &ldquo;Dick, there
+was a whale hooked on this coast this
+afternoon, did you know it?&rdquo; Or, &ldquo;I
+think Jack Deadeye is the most comical
+character in Pinafore, he&rsquo;s so crabbed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The girls of our party stood it as they
+best could; and in the morning we
+stole out to look at our prize, after the
+boys had gone off, but the tide had
+swept Jack and the pail out to sea.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long time before we heard
+the last of it, however.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/oyf220.jpg" width="250" height="171"
+alt="A small sailing boat" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="max_and_beppo" id="max_and_beppo"></a>MAX AND BEPPO.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Down by the lake they trotted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All the summer day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Max and Beppo never plotted<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Yet, to run away.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two little donkey pets, Oh, I loved them so!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I was in Switzerland, just a year ago.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How they liked bananas!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And our apples sweet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They had lovely manners,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Every thing they&rsquo;d eat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, I&rsquo;d rub their furry ears, and they&rsquo;d shake their bells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While old driver Raspar, funny stories tells.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Max turns round and winks so pretty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Little, sharp round eyes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beppo sings a jolly ditty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Quite to our surprise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then we mount, and off we go, up and down the mall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never do they careless trip, never make a fall.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once, a princess royal<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wanted little Max;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How to part those friends so loyal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her little brain she racks.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She would give her gold and silver, in a little purse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then throw in for measure good, her scolding English nurse!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then she cried, and chattered<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All her pretty French,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her little feet she pattered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On the rustic bench.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;My papa is king,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;d have you know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I shall have the donkey, and to prison shall you go.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How their tiny feet would scamper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Up the valley blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Carrying each his generous hamper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And his rider, too.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sure of foot, they&rsquo;d clamber round the mountain spur<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the foot-sore tourist scarcely dared to stir.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In this bright, sunshiny weather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I remember with a sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We no more can play together,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beppo, Max and I.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never dearer friends exist, in this world below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than I made in Switzerland, just a year ago.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="center">
+<a name="pansies" id="pansies"></a>
+<table class="pansies" title="Pansies" summary="poem">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<h2 class="smcap" style="padding-left: 6em;">PANSIES.</h2>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">As I walked in my garden to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I saw a family sweet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Many wee faces looked up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From their cool and shady retreat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Some had blue eyes and golden curls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Some dark eyes and raven locks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Some were dressed in velvets so rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And some wore quaint, gay frocks.<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">I asked these babies so dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To come and live ever with me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Then laughing so gaily they said;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">&ldquo;We are <em>Pansies</em>, don&rsquo;t you see?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet">MRS. L. L. SLOANAKER.</p>
+</div>
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br /><br />
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="come_little_bird" id="come_little_bird"></a>&ldquo;COME, LITTLE BIRD!&rdquo;</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Come, little bird, I have waited some time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Light on my hand, and I&rsquo;ll give you a dime.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have a cage that will keep you warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Free from danger, and safe from storm.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;No, little lady, we cannot do that,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not for a dime, nor a brand new hat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We are so happy, and wild, and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chee-dee-dee! Chee-dee-dee!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Fly, pretty bird, fly down, and take<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just a crumb of my Christmas cake;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Santa Claus brought it to me, you know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over the snow. Over the snow.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Yes, we know of your home, so rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stockings hung in the fire-light there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We peeped through the window-blinds to see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chee-dee-dee! Chee-dee-dee!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;We were on the button-ball tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Closer than we were thought to be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon you may have us in to tea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chee-dee-dee! Chee-dee-dee!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="sirenas_trouble" id="sirenas_trouble"></a>SIRENA&rsquo;S TROUBLE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Adalina Patti was a doll of most
+trying disposition. You wouldn&rsquo;t tell,
+when she woke up, what distracting
+thing she&rsquo;d do first. I&rsquo;ve known her,
+when seated at the breakfast table, in
+her high chair, next to Sirena, her little
+mamma, I have known her to jerk
+suddenly forward, and plunge her face
+right into a plate of buttered cakes and
+syrup.</p>
+
+<p>This necessitated the removing of
+her from the table and a good deal of
+cleansing and re-dressing on the part of
+Bidelia, the hired girl.</p>
+
+<p>She had movable eyes; they were
+very lovely, but, if you&rsquo;ll believe it,
+she&rsquo;d screw them round, just to be contrary,
+so that she&rsquo;d look cross-eyed for
+hours together. No sweet persuasion
+or threat of punishment could induce
+her to look like a doll in her right mind.</p>
+
+<p>This was not quite so bad though,
+as the outlandish noises she made
+when she didn&rsquo;t want to say &ldquo;mamma,&rdquo;
+which she could do very distinctly when
+she first arrived, at Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>But a crisis in her petulant obstinacy
+came, when she wouldn&rsquo;t sit still to
+have her hair combed, and it looked
+like a &ldquo;hurrah&rsquo;s nest,&rdquo; her brother Bob
+said. All her naughtiness came right
+out then. She rolled one eye entirely
+up in her head, and left it there, and
+stared so wild with the other, that
+Sirena gave her a pretty lively shake,
+but she only dropped that eye and
+rolled up the other.</p>
+
+<p>This made her little mamma pause
+and meditate. She got provoked as
+she looked at her, and then she gave
+her a double shake; then that bad doll
+rolled up both her eyes, and nothing
+could induce her to get them down
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, dear! How many dreadful things
+she looked like. There was a vicious
+parrot in the park that made its eyes
+look just like Adalina&rsquo;s did, just before
+it stuck its head through the bars of its
+cage to bite people. And there was a
+stone lady, that was named &ldquo;Ceres,&rdquo;
+on one of the paths in the same park,
+and she kept her eyes rolled up all the
+time, greatly to the terror of Sirena
+and Bidelia, who had to pass her in
+coming home in the twilight. And
+down street there was a tobacconist&rsquo;s
+sign that represented a fairy queen,
+with butterfly wings, taking a pinch of
+snuff, and the weather had taken all
+the paint off her eyes and she looked
+simply hideous; and Sirena grasped
+Bidelia very tight, till they got round
+the corner. Now here was her lovely
+French doll looking like them and cutting
+up worse. She&rsquo;d go to mamma
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a></span>
+with this trouble as she did with all
+others.</p>
+
+<p>She put her doll down with her face
+against the carpet, and taking hold of
+her pink kid arm, dragged her, not
+very gently, over the carpet to her
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment in bounced Rob,
+who, immediately taking in the situation
+of affairs, exclaimed,&mdash;&ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t
+be so cruel to Adalina! Is she just
+horrid? You know, Rena, that&rsquo;s what
+you are, sometimes, yourself. What&rsquo;s
+the matter any way? What makes
+you look so glum?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This doll is acting dreadful; just
+look at her eyes!&rdquo; said Sirena.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t tell any thing by any
+one&rsquo;s eyes, yours look like the 4th of
+July, now, and you&rsquo;re a delightful little
+girl, everybody says; you don&rsquo;t
+whack things round, and scream, when
+the flowers bloom in the spring.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He was to be repressed immediately.
+Sirena looked at her mother.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He wants to be funny, Sirena,&rdquo;
+said her mother, soothingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then he isn&rsquo;t funny; he&rsquo;s never
+funny,&rdquo; said Sirena, drawing herself up
+with dignity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Totty Belmont says you&rsquo;re the teasenest,
+hatefulest boy she knows! So
+there,&rdquo; remarked Sirena.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, ho! I don&rsquo;t wonder the doll
+is scared. Why don&rsquo;t you treat that
+pretty creature with some consideration?
+Dragging her over the carpet,
+and spoiling her pretty dress! Now
+you&rsquo;ll see, just as soon as she comes to
+me, because I&rsquo;m good-looking and nice,
+she&rsquo;ll put her eyes down and smile at
+me as lovely as ever.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He took the doll and jumped it up
+and down in the air, dancing about and
+singing, &ldquo;Tra-la.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As sure as the world! Down came
+the eyes, and Adalina was her charming
+self again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now you see,&rdquo; said Rob, &ldquo;if you
+want people to be good to you and love
+you, you must not be rude and ill-natured
+yourself. This doll is French,
+and particular, and she just won&rsquo;t look
+at cross little girls; so there!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think,&rdquo; said her mamma, &ldquo;that
+Sirena will not get so angry with her
+doll again. She looks as if she were
+ashamed of it now. However disagreeable
+we may think people are, it&rsquo;s
+best to watch ourselves, lest in finding
+fault with them, we fall into the same
+errors.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 443px;">
+<img src="images/oyf222.jpg" width="443" height="600"
+alt="Sirena slouched in an armchair with her doll" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">SIRENA.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="lady_violet" id="lady_violet"></a>LADY VIOLET.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My little love, with soft, brown eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Looks shyly back at me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the drooping apple bough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She thinks I do not see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cannot choose, I laugh with her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I catch her merry glee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or stay you near, or go you far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, little love, how sweet you are!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A hue, like light within a rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is dimpling on her cheek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It wins a grace, it deepens now<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With every airy freak;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A love-light in the rose like this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ah, you may vainly seek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It shines for me, no shadows mar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, little love, how fair you are!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My heart clings to her pretty words,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They will not be forgot;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My happy brain will not discern,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">If they be wise or not.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ever be so charmed, so blessed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ah, this were happy lot.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My own, shine ever like a star<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon my life, so true you are.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a><!-- original location of illustration SIRENA --></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 445px;">
+<img src="images/oyf223.jpg" width="445" height="600"
+alt="Papa and his two daughters" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PAPA&rsquo;S PETS.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="on_trial" id="on_trial"></a>ON TRIAL.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Little Hal Keys was pretty sure to
+throw a stone at every pussy cat he
+saw, and so all the cats around used to
+have a great deal to say about him as
+they sat together on the back fences,
+or when they had a party in the big
+barn. At last the cats determined to
+do something about it, and so they
+said: &ldquo;We will have him up for trial
+before Judge Thomas White.&rdquo; He was
+the wisest and oldest of all the cats in
+town, and wore spectacles that made
+him look even wiser than he was.
+Eleven of the most learned cats said
+they would be lawyers, and get other
+cats to be witnesses, to tell what Hal
+had done, and try to get him punished.
+One of the eleven said: &ldquo;For the sake
+of Hal&rsquo;s mother, who has always been
+kind to me from the time I was a little
+kitten, I will be his lawyer, and try to
+get his punishment made as light as I
+can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf224.jpg" width="500" height="376"
+alt="The courtroom" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">DOLLY VARDEN ACCUSING JACK WITH CRUELTY.</p>
+
+<p>Twelve cats had to be found who
+could say that they were not quite sure
+that Hal was such a bad boy as he
+seemed to be. They were stay-at-home
+cats, who did not know what was going
+on outside of the comfortable houses
+where they lived. These twelve cats
+were to be the jury, and it was their
+duty to hear all that the lawyers and
+the witnesses had to say about Hal&rsquo;s
+doings, and then to tell whether or not
+they thought he ought to be punished.</p>
+
+<p>At last the day of the trial came;
+Judge Thomas White sat down in his
+big chair and took his pen; the lawyers
+took their places; the twelve jury
+cats were brought in, and put in a high
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a></span>
+box, so they could not jump out and
+run away. Hal was brought in and
+put in the prisoner&rsquo;s box, as they call
+it; and Christopher Gray, his mother&rsquo;s
+old cat, took his place beside Hal.
+Three cats, called &ldquo;reporters,&rdquo; came
+in with pockets full of paper and pencils,
+to write down all that is said; to
+print in the newspapers, for all cats in
+the world to read.</p>
+
+<p>The first witness to tell all the bad
+she knew about Hal was his sister
+Alice&rsquo;s little Dolly Varden. How
+saucy she looked, with the blue ribbon
+tied around her neck, as she sat on the
+witness stand telling how Hal chased
+her from cellar to garret; and stepped
+on her tail; and gave her saucer of
+milk to the dog Jack whenever he got
+a chance. &ldquo;Cruel, cruel boy,&rdquo; said
+Dolly Varden, &ldquo;he teases his sister almost
+as much as he teases me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Hal trembled from head to foot when
+he heard what Dolly Varden said, for
+he knew it all was true, and he was
+much afraid that a very hard punishment
+would be given to him. Then
+the old black cat, on whom Hal had
+thrown a dipper of hot water, was
+called to the witness stand. Poor old
+thing! the hot water had taken the
+fur off his back. Then came another
+cat, limping up to the witness stand,
+whose leg had been broken by a stone
+which Hal had thrown. There were so
+many witnesses that it would make my
+story too long to tell about them all.
+All that Christopher Gray could say in
+Hal&rsquo;s favor was: &ldquo;He has a good
+mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The more shame for him,&rdquo; said
+one of the lawyers.</p>
+
+<p>When the jury had heard all that was
+to be said, they went out of the room
+together; in five minutes they came
+back; all agreed that Hal should be
+punished. Then Judge Thomas White,
+in his most solemn tone, said: &ldquo;Albert
+Keys, you are found guilty of great
+cruelty to good cats everywhere. I
+must, therefore, pronounce sentence
+upon you. You must go with us to
+Cat town for two days and one night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There were tears in Hal&rsquo;s eyes, but
+the Judge had no pity on him, and he
+called in some of the strongest cats to
+take him. Oh! what a long, hard way
+it was; over fences, under houses, and
+through the barns. It was hard work
+for Hal to keep up with them, but they
+made him. What a time he had after
+he got to Cat town. All of the cats
+gathered around him, and howled at
+him, and scratched his face and hands,
+and made him wish he was any place
+but there. At last when he was set
+free, he never could have found his
+way home, if pretty little Dolly Varden
+had not forgiven him, and shown
+him the way back.</p>
+
+<p>Hal was never known after that to
+throw a stone at a cat, or to treat one
+badly in any way.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="two_little_girls" id="two_little_girls"></a>TWO LITTLE GIRLS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They don&rsquo;t know much, these little girls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I&rsquo;ll tell you why &rsquo;tis so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They played away their time at school,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And let their lessons go.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One took a slate to cipher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And all went very well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until she came to four times eight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And that she could not tell.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The other would make pictures<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In her copy book at school,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of boys and girls and donkeys<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which was against the rule.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But nothing good could come of it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And this is what befell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She tried to write to papa,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And found she could not spell.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The teacher said, &ldquo;Of all sad things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I would not be a dunce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But would learn to write and cipher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And begin the work at once.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="helpful_words" id="helpful_words"></a>HELPFUL WORDS.</h2>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table class="helpful" summary="Text of stories">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">
+<p style="padding-top: 16em; margin-left: 18em;">A great astronomer was, once in his
+early days, working hard at mathematics,
+and the difficulties he met with, made
+him ready to give up the study in despair.
+After listlessly looking out of
+the window, he turned over the leaves
+of his book, when the lining at the
+back attracted
+his attention.
+Looking at it
+closely, he found it was part
+of a letter written to a young man,
+apparently, like himself, disheartened
+with his difficulties. &ldquo;Go on, sir, go
+on,&rdquo; was the counsel; &ldquo;the difficulties
+you meet will disappear as you advance.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 18em;">This short sentence seemed to give
+the student fresh courage. Following
+out these simple words he applied himself
+with renewed energy to his studies,
+and ultimately became one of the most
+learned men of his day.</p>
+
+<p class="author">D.</p>
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="false_shame" id="false_shame"></a>FALSE SHAME.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Do not be ashamed, my lad, if you
+have a patch on your elbow. It is no
+mark of disgrace. It speaks well for
+your industrious mother. For our part,
+we would rather see a dozen patches
+on your clothes than to have you do a
+bad or mean action, or to hear a profane
+or vulgar word proceed from your
+lips. No good boy will shun you or
+think less of you because you do not
+dress as well as he does, and if any one
+laugh at your appearance, never mind
+it. Go right on doing your duty.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf226.jpg" width="500" height="494"
+alt="Five deer" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="clara_and_the_animal_book" id="clara_and_the_animal_book"></a>CLARA AND THE ANIMAL BOOK.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Clara was a little western girl. She
+had lived in San Francisco until she
+was nine years old, when her dear
+mamma and papa brought her east to
+live with Aunt Mary and Cousin Charlie,
+and they were growing very fond of
+her indeed, for she was so sweet and
+kind and always obedient.</p>
+
+<p>One day she was sitting out under the
+blossoming trees on the old Worden
+seat, her book lying, unread, in her lap,
+and her eyes having a dreamy, far-away
+look in them, when, from the
+balcony overhead, sounded a piping
+little voice:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Clara, Tousin Clara! has oo dot
+my Animal book?&rdquo; and a small, rosy-cheeked
+boy came running to her, rubbing
+his sleepy, dark eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Charlie, have you finished
+your nap so soon? yes here is your
+Animal book, and what shall I read
+about?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, about the deers, wiz their dreat
+big horns, and&mdash;and&mdash;<em>every</em> sin,&rdquo; and
+he nestled close, satisfied he would
+hear all he wished. So she read a short
+sketch of the deer, its haunts and habits,
+when he interrupted:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Has oo ever <em>seen</em> a deer&mdash;a real <em>live</em>
+one?&rdquo; and his black eyes opened wide.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes; and when we were coming
+east, across the plains, whenever
+the train drew near a wooded stream,
+often the screaming whistle would startle
+a herd of deer from their covert,
+and they would rush up through the
+trees, antlers erect, and sleek brown
+bodies quivering with alarm, and followed
+by the soft-eyed, gentle fawn.
+It was quite a pretty picture.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell me more; what tind of a city
+did oo live in?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 431px;">
+<img src="images/oyf227.jpg" width="431" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CLARA AND THE ANIMAL BOOK.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a></span>
+&ldquo;A very beautiful city, Charlie. You
+should see our noble bay, with the
+great ships riding at anchor; our fine
+parks and stately buildings. Then if
+you should go down in Market street,
+where most of the business is done,
+you would see some funny sights. All
+kinds of people are there&mdash;Ranchmen,
+Indians, Spaniards, English, Americans
+and lots of queer little Chinamen,
+and they have small, dark shops full of
+curious things, and besides spread their
+wares on the walk.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>After telling about the orange groves
+and vineyards, the lovely flowers, especially
+the fuchsia, which winds its
+branches like a vine over the porches,
+often reaching the upper story of a
+house, Charlie thought it must be a
+wonderful country, and expressed his
+intention of <em>living</em> in California when
+he became a man.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><a name="anecdote1" id="anecdote1"></a>
+In a Chinese village during a time of
+drought a missionary saw a row of idols
+put in the hottest and dustiest part of
+the road. He inquired the reason and
+the natives answered: &ldquo;We prayed
+our gods to send us rain, and they wont,
+so we&rsquo;ve put them out to see how they
+like the heat and dryness.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="the_unsociable_ducks" id="the_unsociable_ducks"></a>THE UNSOCIABLE DUCKS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Three meadow birds went out in great glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All in the sunshiny weather;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down by the pond, with the reeds waving free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where the ducks were all standing together.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Good day Mrs. Duck,&rdquo; said the three meadow birds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;From all the news we can gather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You&rsquo;re a very good friend, of very few words.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then one flew away with a feather.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Quack!&rdquo; said the duck, &ldquo;That feather is mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I see through your ways altogether;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You want our feathers, your own nests to line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All in the bright summer weather.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;What shall we use?&rdquo; said the three meadow birds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;There&rsquo;s no good in moss or in heather.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;We don&rsquo;t care a straw,&rdquo; said the old blue drake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;If you line all your nests with sole leather.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Quack! Quack! Quack! You must think we are slack!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">You talk too polite altogether;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We&rsquo;ve had quite enough of your high-flown stuff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And we know, you are birds of a feather.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf228.jpg" width="500" height="335"
+alt="Dickens and his cat" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2 class="smcap"><a name="putting_out_the_candle" id="putting_out_the_candle"></a>Putting out the Candle.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Charles Dickens, for that is the
+name of the gentleman you see sitting
+by the table, wrote many books and
+stories. Some of his stories are about
+little children for grown folks to read,
+and others are for the children themselves.
+Mr. Dickens had a pet cat,
+that was always in his library. Strange
+to say, it had no name. That was no
+matter, because the cat could not hear.
+He was deaf. But he liked very much
+to be petted, and plainly showed sometimes
+that he was not pleased to have
+his master do any thing else. One evening,
+when Mr. Dickens was sitting at
+the table reading, his candle suddenly
+went out. He did not know why it
+should have done so, but he got up
+and lighted it. In a few moments it
+began to get dark again, and he looked
+up quickly at the candle, and saw puss
+just raising his paw to put it out.
+&ldquo;What did he do?&rdquo; He gave the cat
+a loving little pat and went on with
+his reading. What a sly cat was that to
+find a way to make his master notice him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="sulky_archie" id="sulky_archie"></a>SULKY ARCHIE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">BY C. MANNERS SMITH.</p>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;It must be nice to be a sailor, and I
+wish I was one. Every thing goes
+wrong and mother is always
+scolding me, and
+father is never done
+growling; I am getting
+tired of it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The speaker was a
+little, round-cheeked lad,
+of about nine years of age.
+He was standing, with
+a tall, fair-haired girl,
+evidently his sister, on
+the edge of the river
+Wyncombe. He was not
+a lively boy. He was
+one of those thoughtful,
+gloomy little boys who
+are always dreaming; always
+thinking and
+imagining some fancied
+injury from either father
+or mother.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 343px;">
+<img src="images/oyf229.jpg" width="343" height="500"
+alt="Archie sitting on a wall" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;NOBODY CARES.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Archie Phillips was
+the little boy&rsquo;s name,
+and he and his sister
+had got a holiday and
+were watching a party of
+older children from the
+Wynne High School,
+who had come down to
+the river to spend the
+afternoon. There was
+Algernon Wright with a
+large model yacht, and
+Willie Schofield, the
+Mayor&rsquo;s son, with a new
+silver-mounted fishing
+rod. They were all as
+happy and full of frolic
+as all boys in the spring-time of life
+ought to be. Little Archie was, however,
+of a morose temperament, and
+did not share in any of the amusements.</p>
+
+<p>The village of Wynne is a fishing village,
+and is approached from the sea by
+a beautiful cove on the Cornish coast.
+The town is built on the slopes of the
+hills reaching down to the water&rsquo;s edge,
+and the river Wynne empties itself
+into the sea near by.</p>
+
+<p>It is, indeed, a pleasant place. At
+the time of this story all the boys of
+Wynne, young and old, were crazy after
+maritime pursuits and sports. They
+spent the bulk of their holiday time
+either in sailing about the bay, or in
+fishing, bathing, or holding model yacht
+races in the cove.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t I have a yacht in the
+place of a silly ball? Why don&rsquo;t I have
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a></span>
+boys to play with instead of Lucy and
+Gyp? What do girls or dogs know
+about a top or a cat hunt? I&rsquo;m disgusted!
+I&rsquo;ll go for a sailor! I&rsquo;ll run
+away; there!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The girl took no notice of this discourse.
+It was no new thing for her
+to hear grumbling from her brother, and
+she was accustomed to bear it without
+murmur or dissent. Presently she ran
+away, along the river bank, with her
+doll, to a shady place, where she knew
+the sun was not strong, and where some
+rushes overhung the path. There she
+could put her doll to sleep. It was no
+use asking Archie to join her. He was
+too old and too much of a man to enter
+into any such stupidity.</p>
+
+<p>Presently Archie sat down in the
+shade, on the balustrades of the churchyard
+and watched the glee of the High-Schoolboys
+with a sulky envy.</p>
+
+<p>It was a glorious summer afternoon.
+The sky overhead was one vast, inverted
+field of blue, without a single
+speck of cloud. The hot sun was beating
+down almost perpendicularly, and
+the rays penetrated the leaves, shedding
+a lattice-work pattern on the
+ground.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know Ben Huntly, the boat-builder,
+will tell me how to go to sea. He has
+been a sailor himself, and I know he
+will tell me all about it. Nobody cares;
+well, mother might, perhaps, a bit, but
+then, I don&rsquo;t know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he paused in his musings and
+thought of all the injustice done to him
+by his mother. He thought, like all
+gloomy, wretched little boys, of all that
+was ill. He didn&rsquo;t for one moment remember,
+how, that very morning, the
+self-same, unjust mother, after packing
+up his little lunch-basket, had put her
+arms round his neck, and a little red-cheeked
+apple in his pocket, and told
+him to keep away from the river. Oh,
+no, he seemed to have quite forgotten
+all that.</p>
+
+<p>Then the sun went behind a cloud
+and Archie felt the cool wind, which
+blew from the cove, on his cheek, so he
+jumped down from his musing place
+and sped away as fast as his legs would
+carry him toward the house of the
+boat-builder. He ran across the green,
+down the grassy slopes and across a
+stretch of shingly beach, to the cottage
+of his friend.</p>
+
+<p>Ben Huntly, the boat-builder, was a
+good-hearted fellow, and was extremely
+fond of all the children of the village.
+He had that method possessed by few
+people of searching into the heart of
+a child and arguing with him in a
+manner suitable for a child&rsquo;s understanding.</p>
+
+<p>Archie had often sought Ben&rsquo;s counsel
+when things seemed to go wrong,
+and it was seldom that the boat-builder
+had failed to convince the boy, even to
+his satisfaction, that he was wrong.</p>
+
+<p>It was an off day for the boat-builder.
+He was sitting, smoking his pipe, in
+the cottage porch, and reading a well-thumbed
+copy of &ldquo;Gray&rsquo;s Master Mariner.&rdquo;
+He welcomed Archie with a secret
+delight, for he knew, by his little
+friend&rsquo;s face, that he was brooding over
+some fancied injury, and it gave the
+boat-builder pleasure to talk his little
+friend out of his troubles.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Archie, what&rsquo;s new in the
+wind,&rdquo; said Ben, as he greeted the
+boy with a grasp of the hand. &ldquo;It
+seems almost an age since I saw you, my
+boy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Little Archie sat down on a large
+stone bench in the porch, and told Ben
+his story. His mother had been vexed
+with him that morning. She had asked
+him to call at the rectory with a message
+for Doctor Hart, and he wanted to
+cut grass at the time, and objected.
+His mother did not scold him, oh, no,
+Ben, she sent Carrie, who willingly
+took the message, and his father had
+called him a name. Then, again, he
+had no toys like other boys. Some had
+a pony; he couldn&rsquo;t have one. His
+father always answered his request for
+a pony with the reply that he couldn&rsquo;t
+afford one just then and he would see
+about it some day. If Ben would only
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"><!-- original location of illustration AND DISCUSSED LITTLE ARCHIE'S PURPOSED FLIGHT --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a></span>
+tell him how to go to sea he would certainly
+run away the next day.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 469px;">
+<img src="images/oyf230.jpg" width="469" height="600"
+alt="Ben and Archie" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;AND DISCUSSED LITTLE ARCHIE&rsquo;S PURPOSED FLIGHT.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now, Ben knew the character of little
+Archie better, perhaps, than his own
+mother did; so, when he had given the
+little boy a draught of cool milk from
+the cottage kitchen, Ben lit his pipe
+afresh, and took down an old telescope,
+a relic of his sea-faring days, from the
+wall. The young man and the boy then
+strolled across a low, level tract of sand,
+to a grassy hillock, formed by the current
+of the Wyncombe. Here they
+sat down in the fast waning twilight,
+and discussed
+little Archie&rsquo;s
+purposed flight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Archie,&rdquo;
+said Ben, &ldquo;a sailor&rsquo;s
+life is well
+enough, if you
+don&rsquo;t mind hard
+beds and harder
+words. If you
+can eat salty
+meat and mouldy
+bread it&rsquo;s a fine
+life, Archie.
+There is no life
+I&rsquo;d like better if
+they&rsquo;d give you
+fresher water and
+not quite so
+many cruel blows.
+But, if you&rsquo;ve
+made up your
+mind, Archie, and
+think you can
+go to bed nights
+in a rolling, tossing sea, with the wind
+howling and the rain pouring, and your
+mother thousands of miles away, looking
+at your little empty bed, I should
+think very seriously about it.&rdquo; Archie
+looked thoughtful, as the gloom deepened
+on his face, and silence fell on the
+pair for a time.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 285px;">
+<img src="images/oyf231.jpg" width="285" height="350"
+alt="Archie as an adult" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ARCHIE THINKING OF BEN&rsquo;S STORY.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Ben spied a French frigate
+looming against the darkening sky and
+showed it to Archie through the telescope.
+He explained all the parts of
+the ship and dwelt long in his answers
+to the lad&rsquo;s questions. He told little
+Archie how, early one stormy morning,
+he had been awakened from his bed in
+the cottage by the sound of guns away
+at sea, how he had descended to the
+beach with a lot of the villagers, to find
+the waves beating mercilessly over a
+great broken ship. He told how they
+had all stood, in the leaden morning,
+stricken with dread at the sight of the
+disaster they were all powerless to prevent;
+leaning hard against the wind,
+their breath and vision often failing
+as the sleet and spray rushed at them
+from the great
+mountain of
+foaming sea
+which kept breaking
+on the rocks
+in the cove. He
+told farther, how,
+before all their
+eyes, the vessel
+had given one
+great heave backwards
+and sank
+beneath the
+waves forever;
+how they could
+faintly hear the
+heart-rending
+screams of women
+and children
+above the storm
+as the great waste
+of waters covered
+the struggling
+vessel. He told
+Archie that, on
+the following evening, while he was
+mending a boat down the bay, he came
+across something lying amongst a
+mass of sea-weed, and on turning it
+over had found it to be the dead body
+of a sailor&mdash;a fair, curly-headed youth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was clad,&rdquo; said Ben, &ldquo;in a pair
+of linen trowsers and a sea shirt, and
+the weeds and sand were all tangled in
+his hair. I raised him up from the
+beach and a small bundle fell out of his
+bosom. I laid him in my boat and
+went for Doctor Hart. It was the talk
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a></span>
+of the village for days. Dr. Hart found
+the bundle to contain a packet of letters
+written in a feeble hand and signed
+by the dead sailor&rsquo;s mother. They
+were loving letters of expected joy at
+her boy&rsquo;s return.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Ben would have gone on with the
+story, but he was attracted by the appearance
+of Archie. The little lad was
+sitting, with his pale face turned up to
+Ben, and with two great tears, as large
+as horse beans, in the corners of his
+eyes. On meeting Ben&rsquo;s gaze he broke
+down thoroughly and burst into a flood
+of tears, throwing his arms round the
+honest boat-builder&rsquo;s neck, sobbing on
+his breast.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Ben, I don&rsquo;t want to leave
+mother; I am a wicked boy. If she
+were to die, Ben, what should I do?
+Do you think she is alive now, Ben?
+I don&rsquo;t want to go away, Ben.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boat-builder soothed the little
+lad and smiled at the success of his purpose
+to divert the boy&rsquo;s mind.</p>
+
+<p>It was now nearly night, and time
+for Archie to go home, so Ben took
+him on his shoulders and carried him to
+Mr. Archer&rsquo;s house, where the family
+were all waiting supper for the little
+boy.</p>
+
+<p>Archie ran to his mother as soon as
+he got in and kissed her over and over
+again. He told her his little story,
+making the good woman&rsquo;s heart overflow
+with love for her little son.</p>
+
+<p>Ben stayed to supper with the family
+that night, and all was bright and happy
+as the merry party sat round the board
+laughing and joking to their heart&rsquo;s
+content.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 15%;" />
+
+<p>Archie is a young man now, and has
+outgrown his gloomy, brooding disposition.
+He is a clerk in the office of a
+rich corn merchant in Oxbridge, the
+nearest market to Wynne, and shows
+every tendency to become a successful
+and respected business man.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally, when things do not happen
+to his satisfaction, and he feels the
+old spirit of discontent rising, he checks
+it by reflecting on his early unhappiness.
+If his mother or father are harsh
+or angry with him, or if Mr. Gayton,
+his employer, speaks quickly or loudly
+to him, he stifles any tendency to sulk
+and become angry by thinking of Ben
+Huntly and the story of the wreck.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="a_wish_for_wings" id="a_wish_for_wings"></a>A WISH FOR WINGS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O dear little birdie, how nice it must be<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">To be able to fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Far away to the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or to sit on the toss-away top of a tree.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I wish you would lend me your wings for a day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I have two little feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">That can run on the street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One step at a time, but I can&rsquo;t fly away.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I would fly to the woods if I only had wings;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Over house-top and tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Like a bird or a bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sit by the side of the thrush while she sings.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I would count the blue eggs in her snug little nest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I would stay all day long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">To hear her sweet song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bring home a feather of gold from her breast.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet smcap">Mrs. S. J. Brigham.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="consequences_a_parable" id="consequences_a_parable"></a>CONSEQUENCES: A PARABLE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The baby held it in his hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">An acorn green and small,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He toyed with it, he tossed it high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And then he let it fall!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He sought for it, and sorely wept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or did his mother know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Though sweet she kissed and clasped her boy)<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What loss had grieved him so.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then he was borne to other lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And there he grew to man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wrought his best, and did his most,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And lived as heroes can.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But in old age it came to pass<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He trod his native shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet did not know the pleasant fields<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where he had played before.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beneath a spreading oak he sat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A wearied man and old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said,&mdash;&ldquo;I feel a strange content<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My inmost heart enfold.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;As if some sweet old secret wish<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was secretly fulfilled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if I traced the plan of life<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which God Himself has willed!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, bonnie tree which shelters me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where summer sunbeams glow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ve surely seen thee in my dreams!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Why do I love thee so?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet smcap">Isabella Fyvie Mayo.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 441px;">
+<img src="images/oyf232.jpg" width="441" height="600"
+alt="A little girl selling matches" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption red">MATCHES.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="comfortable_mrs_crook" id="comfortable_mrs_crook"></a>COMFORTABLE MRS. CROOK.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">BY RUTH LAMB.</p>
+
+
+<p>If Mrs. Jemima Crook happened to
+be in a very good temper, when taking
+a cup of tea with some old acquaintance,
+she would sometimes allude to
+her private affairs in these words: &ldquo;I
+don&rsquo;t deny it; Crook has left me comfortable.&rdquo;
+This was not much to tell,
+for Mrs. Crook was not given to confidences,
+and a frequent remark of hers
+was: &ldquo;I know my own business, and
+that is enough for me. I don&rsquo;t see that
+I have any call to fill other people&rsquo;s
+minds and mouths with what does not
+concern them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Seeing, however, that Mrs. Crook&rsquo;s
+own mind and heart were entirely filled
+by Mrs. Crook herself, it was, perhaps,
+as well that she should not occupy too
+much of the attention and affection of
+her neighbors.</p>
+
+<p>It is a poor, narrow heart, and a small
+mind, that find self enough to fill them;
+but these sorts are not unknown, and
+Mrs. Crook was a sample of such.</p>
+
+<p>When she spoke of having been left
+&ldquo;comfortable&rdquo; by her deceased partner,
+there was a look of triumph and
+satisfaction on her face, and a &ldquo;No-thanks-to-any-of-you&rdquo;
+kind of tone in
+her voice, that must have jarred on the
+ear of a listener.</p>
+
+<p>No one ever saw a tear in Mrs. Crook&rsquo;s
+eye, or heard an expression of regret
+for the loss of &ldquo;Crook&rdquo; himself. He
+had been dead and out of sight and mind
+almost these ten years past. He was
+merely remembered as having done his
+duty in leaving his widow &ldquo;comfortable.&rdquo;
+People were left to speculate as
+they chose about the amount represented
+by the expression. It would
+not have been good for the man or
+woman who had ventured to ask a direct
+question on the subject, but everybody
+agreed that Mrs. Crook must have
+something handsome. Surely &ldquo;comfortable&rdquo;
+means free from care, both
+as regards to-day and to-morrow: not
+only enough, but a little more, or else
+anxiety might step in and spoil comfort.
+If Mrs. Crook had more than
+enough, she took care not to give of
+her abundance. Neither man, woman
+nor child was ever the better for the
+surplus, if such there were. One of
+her favorite expressions was, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t
+care for much neighboring; I prefer
+keeping myself to myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a><!-- original location of illustration MATCHES --></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a></span>
+&ldquo;And you keep every thing else to
+yourself,&rdquo; muttered one who had vainly
+tried to enlist her sympathy for another
+who was in sickness and trouble.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Crook had a pretty garden, well-stocked
+with flowers, according to the
+season. She was fond of working in
+it, and might be seen there daily, with
+her sun-bonnet on, snipping, tying and
+tending her plants.</p>
+
+<p>Children do so love flowers, and,
+thank God, those who live in country
+places have grand gardens to roam in,
+free to all, and planted by His own
+loving hand. But in town it is different,
+and Mrs. Crook lived just outside
+one; far enough away from its
+smoke to allow of successful gardening,
+not too far to prevent little feet
+from wandering thither from narrow
+courts and alleys, to breathe a purer
+air, and gaze, with longing eyes, at the
+fair blossoms. It always irritated Mrs.
+Crook to see these dirty, unkempt little
+creatures clustering around her gate,
+or peeping through her hedge.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you want here?&rdquo; she
+would ask, sharply. &ldquo;Get away with
+you, or I will send for a policeman.
+You are peeping about to see if you
+can pick up something; I know you
+are. Be off, without any more telling!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The light of pleasure called into the
+young eyes by the sight of the flowers
+would fade away, and the hopeful look
+leave the dirty faces, as Mrs. Crook&rsquo;s
+harsh words fell on the children&rsquo;s ears.
+But as they turned away with unwilling,
+lingering steps, heads would be
+stretched, and a wistful, longing gaze
+cast upon the coveted flowers, until
+they were quite lost to sight.</p>
+
+<p>There was a tradition amongst the
+youngsters that a very small child had
+once called, through the bars of the
+gate: &ldquo;P&rsquo;ease, Missis, do give me a
+f&rsquo;ower.&rdquo; Also that something in the
+baby voice had so far moved Mrs. Jemima
+Crook, that she had stooped to
+select one or two of the least faded
+roses among all those just snipped
+from the bushes, and given them to the
+daring little blue eyes outside, with
+this injunction, however:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mind you never come here asking
+for flowers any more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This report was long current among
+the inhabitants of a city court, but it
+needs confirmation.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Crook objected to borrowers
+also, and perhaps she was not so much
+to be blamed for that. Most of us
+who possess bookshelves, and once delighted
+in seeing them well filled, look
+sorrowfully at gaps made by borrowers
+who have failed to return our treasures.
+But domestic emergencies occur
+even in the best regulated families,
+and neighborly help may be imperatively
+required. It may be a matter of
+Christian duty and privilege too, to
+lend both our goods and our personal
+aid. Mrs. Crook did not think so.
+Lending formed no part of her creed.
+If other people believed in it, and liked
+their household goods to travel up and
+down the neighborhood, that was their
+look-out, not hers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I never borrow, so why should I
+lend?&rdquo; asked Mrs. Crook. &ldquo;Besides,
+I am particular about my things. My
+pans are kept as bright and clean as
+new ones, and if my servant put them
+on the shelves, as some people&rsquo;s servants
+replace theirs after using, she
+would not be here long. No, thank
+you. When I begin to borrow, I will
+begin to lend, but not until then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Crook&rsquo;s sentiments were so well
+known that, even in a case of sickness,
+when a few spoonfuls of mustard were
+needed for immediate use in poultices,
+the messenger on the way to borrow it,
+passed her door rather than risk a refusal,
+whereby more time might be lost
+than by going farther in the first instance.</p>
+
+<p>Many were the invitations Mrs. Crook
+received to take part in the work of different
+societies. One lady asked her
+to join the Dorcas meeting.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You can sew so beautifully,&rdquo; she
+said. &ldquo;You would be a great acquisition
+to our little gathering.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a></span>
+The compliment touched a tender
+point. Mrs. Crook was proud of her
+needlework, but to dedicate such skill
+in sewing to making under-clothing for
+the poorest of the poor: The idea was
+monstrous!</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Crook answered civilly, that she
+could not undertake to go backwards
+and forwards to a room half a mile off.
+It would be a waste of time. Besides,
+though it was probably not the case in
+that particular meeting, she had heard
+that there was often a great deal of
+gossip going on at such places. The
+visitor was determined not to be offended,
+and she replied, gently, that
+there was no chance of gossip, for, after
+a certain time had been given to
+the actual business of the meeting,
+such as planning, cutting out, and apportioning
+work, one of the ladies read,
+whilst the rest sewed. &ldquo;But,&rdquo; she
+added, &ldquo;if you are willing to help us a
+little, and object to joining the meeting
+at the room, perhaps you would
+let me bring you something to be made
+at home. There is always work for
+every willing hand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. Crook drew herself up and
+said she did not feel inclined to take in
+sewing. She had her own to do, and
+did it without requiring assistance, and
+she thought it was better to teach the
+lower classes to depend upon themselves
+than to go about pampering poor
+people and encouraging idleness, as
+many persons were so fond of doing now-a-days.
+No doubt they thought they
+were doing good, but, for her part, she believed
+that in many cases they did harm.</p>
+
+<p>The visitor could have told tales of
+worn-out toilers, laboring almost night
+and day to win bread for their children,
+but unable to find either material for a
+garment or time to make it. She could
+have pleaded for the widow and the orphan,
+if there had seemed any feelings
+to touch, any heart to stir. But Mrs.
+Crook&rsquo;s hard words and looks repelled
+her, and she went her way, after a mere
+&ldquo;Good-morning. I am sorry you cannot
+see your way to help us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>No chance of widows weeping for the
+loss of Mrs. Crook, or telling of her
+almsdeeds and good works, or showing
+the coats and garments made for them
+by her active fingers!</p>
+
+<p>It was the same when some adventurous
+collector called upon Mrs. Crook
+to solicit a subscription. She had always
+something to say against the object
+for which money was asked. If it
+were for the sufferers by an accident in
+a coal mine or for the unemployed at a
+time of trade depression:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t they insure their lives
+like their betters? Why don&rsquo;t they
+save something, when they are getting
+good wages? I am not going to encourage
+the thriftless, or help those
+who might help themselves, if they
+would think beforehand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At length every one gave up trying
+to enlist her services, or to obtain contributions
+from her, for the support of
+any good cause. And Mrs. Crook bestowed
+all her thoughts, her affections,
+her time and her means, on the only
+person she thought worthy of them all&mdash;namely
+Mrs. Crook herself.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="an_evening_song" id="an_evening_song"></a>AN EVENING SONG.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">BY COUSIN ANNIE.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Twilight dews are gath&rsquo;ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The bright day&rsquo;s done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon thy downy couch<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rest, little one.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Each tiny bird&rsquo;s hieing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Home to its nest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each flower-head&rsquo;s nodding<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Upon its breast.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Be still now, little heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Until the morrow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brings again its share<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of joy and sorrow.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May angels round thy couch<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Be ever nigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And over thy slumbers chant<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Their lullaby.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/oyf233.jpg" width="550" height="548"
+alt="A little girl in thoughtful pose" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2 class="smcap"><a name="but_then" id="but_then"></a>&ldquo;But Then.&rdquo;</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was a queer name for a little girl,
+and it was not her real name&mdash;that was
+Lizzie&mdash;but everybody called her &ldquo;But
+Then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My real name is prettier, <em>but then</em>,
+I like the other pretty well,&rdquo; she said,
+nodding her short, brown curls merrily.
+And that sentence shows just how she
+came by her name.</p>
+
+<p>If Willie complained that it was a
+miserable, rainy day, and they couldn&rsquo;t
+play out of doors, Lizzie assented
+brightly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; <em>but then</em>, it is a real nice day
+to fix our scrapbooks.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When Kate fretted because they had
+so far to walk to school, her little sister
+reminded her,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>But then, it&rsquo;s all the way through the
+woods, you know</em>, and that&rsquo;s ever so
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a></span>
+much nicer than walking on pavements
+in a town.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When even patient Aunt Barbara
+pined a little because the rooms in the
+new house were so few and small compared
+with their old home, a rosy face
+was quietly lifted to hers with the suggestion,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>But then</em>, little rooms are the best
+to cuddle all up together in, don&rsquo;t you
+think, Auntie?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Better call her &lsquo;Little But Then,&rsquo;
+and have done with it,&rdquo; declared Bob,
+half-vexed, half-laughing. &ldquo;No matter
+how bad any thing is, she is always
+ready with her &lsquo;but then,&rsquo; and some
+kind of consolation on the end of it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And so, though no one really intended
+it, the new name began. There
+were a good many things that the
+children missed in their new home.
+Money could have bought them even
+there; but if the money had not gone
+first, their father would scarcely have
+thought it necessary to leave his old
+home. They had done what was best
+under the circumstances; still the boys
+felt rather inclined to grumble about it
+one winter morning when they were
+starting off to the village on an errand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just look at all the snow going to
+waste, without our having a chance to
+enjoy it,&rdquo; said Will; &ldquo;and the ice too&mdash;all
+because we couldn&rsquo;t bring our sleds
+with us when we moved.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>But then</em>, you might make one yourself,
+you know. It wouldn&rsquo;t be quite so
+pretty, but it would be just as good,&rdquo;
+suggested Little But Then.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Exactly what I mean to do as soon
+as I get money enough to buy two or
+three boards; but I haven&rsquo;t even that
+yet, and the winter is nearly half gone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If we only had a sled to-day, Sis
+could ride, and we could go on the
+river,&rdquo; said Bob. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s just as near
+that way, and we could go faster.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is a pity,&rdquo; admitted the little girl.
+&ldquo;<em>But then</em>, I&rsquo;ve thought of something&mdash;that
+old chair in the shed! If we
+turned it down, its back would be almost
+like runners, and so&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah! that&rsquo;s the very thing!&rdquo;
+interrupted the boys; and the old chair
+was dragged out in a twinkling, and
+carried down to the river. Then away
+went the merry party, laughing and
+shouting, on the smooth road between
+the snowy hills, while Gyp followed,
+frisking and barking, and seeming to
+enjoy the fun as much as any of them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now we&rsquo;ll draw our sled up here,
+close under the bank, where nobody
+will see it, and leave it while we go up
+to the store,&rdquo; said Bob, when they had
+reached the village.</p>
+
+<p>Their errand was soon done, and the
+children ready to return; but as they
+set forth Will pointed to a dark spot a
+little way out on the ice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is that? It looks like a great
+bundle of clothes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was a bundle that moved and
+moaned as they drew near, and proved
+to be a girl, a little bigger than Lizzie.
+She looked up when they questioned
+her, though her face was pale with
+pain.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I slipped and fell on the ice,&rdquo; she
+explained, &ldquo;and I&rsquo;m afraid I&rsquo;ve broken
+my leg, for it is all twisted under me,
+and I can&rsquo;t move it or get up. I live in
+the village. That&rsquo;s my father&rsquo;s carpenter
+shop where you see the sign. I
+could see it all the time, and yet I was
+afraid I&rsquo;d freeze here before any one
+saw me. Oh dear! it doesn&rsquo;t seem as
+if I could lie here while you go for my
+father.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, you needn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; began Bob;
+but the girl shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t walk a step, and you two are
+not strong enough to carry me all the
+way. You&rsquo;d let me fall, or you&rsquo;d have
+to keep stopping to rest; and putting
+me down and taking me up again would
+almost kill me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, but we&rsquo;ll only lift you into the
+chair, just as carefully as we can, then
+we can carry you easy enough,&rdquo; said
+Will.</p>
+
+<p>And in that way the poor girl was
+borne safely home; and the children
+lingered long enough to bring the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a></span>
+surgeon and hear his verdict that &ldquo;Young
+bones don&rsquo;t mind much being broken,
+and she will soon be about again, as
+well as ever.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 456px;">
+<img src="images/oyf234.jpg" width="456" height="550"
+alt="Two girls sitting and talking" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;BUT THEN, IT&rsquo;S ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE WOODS, YOU KNOW.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I don&rsquo;t see how you happened
+to have a chair so handy,&rdquo; said her
+father to the boys. And when they explained
+that they were using it for a
+sled, he said, with a significant nod of
+his head,&mdash;&ldquo;Your sled, was it? Well,
+I shall be surprised if my shop does not
+turn you out a better sled than
+that, just by way of thanks for your
+kindness.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a></span>
+&ldquo;<em>But then</em>, wasn&rsquo;t it good that it was
+only the old chair that we had to-day?&rdquo;
+asked Little But Then, as she told
+the story to Aunt Barbara at home.
+&ldquo;Oh Auntie, I had the nicest kind of a
+time!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I believe you had,&rdquo; answered Aunt
+Barbara, smiling; &ldquo;for a brave, sunny
+spirit, that never frets over what it has
+not, but always makes the best of what
+it has where it is, is sure to have a good
+time. It does not need to wait for it to
+come&mdash;it has a factory for making it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 295px;">
+<img src="images/oyf235.jpg" width="295" height="400"
+alt="A little girl and boy" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<p><a name="anecdote2" id="anecdote2"></a>
+&mdash;The following is an Arabic proverb
+taken from the mouth of an Oriental:
+&ldquo;Men are four. 1. He who knows not,
+and knows not he knows not. He is
+a fool; shun him. 2. He who knows
+not, and knows he knows not. He is
+simple; teach him. 3. He who knows,
+and knows not he knows. He is asleep;
+wake him. 4. He who knows, and
+knows he knows. He is wise; follow
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="what_the_snail_said" id="what_the_snail_said"></a>WHAT THE SNAIL SAID.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;You little chicks, tho&rsquo; you peck at my dress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I will not get angry at that;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I know you would gobble me up if you could,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As quick as a worm or a gnat.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Say, little snail, you had better go on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They may try the same trick upon you.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; said the snail, with his hard coat of mail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care a rush if they do.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Little girl, there&rsquo;s no harm to cause me alarm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I&rsquo;ll sit here and watch them a spell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as soon as they pounce, I&rsquo;ll cheat them at once,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By getting right into my shell.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;But listen, wise snail, the old hen in the coop<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Has her eye very closely on you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if she gets out, it may put you about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Now mind, what I tell you is true.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;But dear little girl, she is fast in her house;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">No, no, she can&rsquo;t touch me, no, no.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if that respectable fowl should get out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oho!&rdquo; said the snail. &ldquo;Oho!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="only_now_and_then" id="only_now_and_then"></a>ONLY NOW AND THEN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Think it no excuse, boys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Merging into men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That you do a wrong act<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Only now and then.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Better to be careful<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As you go along,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If you would be manly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Capable and strong.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Many a wretched sot, boys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That one daily meets<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drinking from the beer-kegs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Living in the streets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or at best, in quarters<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Worse than any pen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once was dressed in broadcloth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Drinking now and then.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When you have a habit<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That is wrong, you know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knock it off at once, lads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With a sudden blow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think it no excuse, boys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Merging into men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That you do a wrong act<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Only now and then.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="a_serpent_among_the_books" id="a_serpent_among_the_books"></a>A SERPENT AMONG THE BOOKS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>One day, a gentleman in India went
+into his library and took down a book
+from the shelves. As he did so, he
+felt a slight pain in his finger, like the
+prick of a pin. He thought that a pin
+had been stuck, by some careless person,
+in the cover of the book. But soon
+his finger began to swell, then his arm,
+and then his whole body, and in a few
+days he died. It was not a pin among
+the books, but a small and deadly serpent.</p>
+
+<p>There are many serpents among the
+books now-a-days; they nestle in the
+foliage of some of our most fascinating
+literature; they coil around the flowers
+whose perfume intoxicates the senses.
+People read and are charmed by the
+plot of the story, and the skill with
+which the characters are sculptured or
+grouped, by the gorgeousness of the
+wood-painting, and hardly feel the pin-prick
+of the evil that is insinuated.
+But it stings and poisons.</p>
+
+<p>Let us watch against the serpents
+and read only that which is healthy,
+instructive and profitable.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 441px;">
+<img src="images/oyf236.jpg" width="441" height="600"
+alt="Two little girls going upstairs to bed" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GOOD NIGHT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="little_mother" id="little_mother"></a>&ldquo;LITTLE MOTHER.&rdquo;</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">BY JULIA HUNT MOREHOUSE.</p>
+
+
+<p>It was Judge Bellow&rsquo;s big, fine house,
+that stood on the corner by the park.
+Every body knew that, but every body
+did <em>not</em> know that the one little girl
+who lived in that house was restless
+and unhappy and often cross.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why do you roam about so, Nell?
+Why don&rsquo;t you settle down to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"><!-- original location of illustration GOOD NIGHT --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a></span>
+something?&rdquo; her mother asked, one bright,
+spring day.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I am sick of everything. I
+have read all my books, and I hate my
+piano. The croquet isn&rsquo;t up, and there
+is nobody to play with me, if it was.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you find some kind of
+work to do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is just the trouble. There&rsquo;s
+nothing that needs to be done; servants
+for every thing; and what does
+crocheting amount to, and plastering
+some little daubs of paint on some
+plush! Why, I believe that little Dutch
+girl that sells things out of her big
+basket, on our corner, every morning,
+is a good deal happier than I am. I
+mean to ask her sometime what makes
+her so.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 15%;" />
+
+<p>A few weeks more and the hot summer
+came on, and Nell missed the little
+Dutch girl on the corner. It really
+worried her that the bright, womanly
+face did not come any more, but she
+supposed she had moved to a better
+stand or perhaps left the city.</p>
+
+<p>One morning Nell took a walk with
+her teacher; a long walk, for they
+found themselves outside the city,
+where there were open holds and every
+house had green grass and trees close
+around it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What a little, <em>little</em> house! That
+one with the woodbine all over it&mdash;and
+I do believe&mdash;yes, it really <em>is</em> my little
+Dutch girl scrubbing the steps,&rdquo; and
+away she bounded and was soon beside
+the little worker.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! I&rsquo;m so glad to find you again!
+Why don&rsquo;t you come to our corner any
+more?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Baby&rsquo;s been sick a long, good
+time,&rdquo; explained Lena, wiping her hands
+on her apron. &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you ladies please
+to walk in, if you please, ma&rsquo;am?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was a queer little figure that
+showed them into the cool, clean room;
+short and broad and dumpy. Her
+shoes were coarse, her dress of faded
+black, with a white kerchief at the
+neck, so like an old woman. Her face
+too, was short and broad; her nose was
+<em>very</em> short and her eyes very narrow.
+So you see she was not pretty, but her
+face was all love and sunshine. She
+sat down on a low stool and took up
+the baby in such a dear, motherly way,
+smoothing its hair and dress and kissing
+it softly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t mean that you live here
+all alone?&rdquo; asked Nell.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no; there is Hans and baby
+and me, and there is old Mrs. Price in
+the other part.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But your father and mother?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother died a year ago. Oh, she
+was one such good mother, but baby
+came in her place. Baby looks like
+mother, and now I have to be her little
+mother, you see,&rdquo; and she set the little
+dumpling out upon her knee, with such
+pride and tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And your father?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The little Dutch girl dropped her
+head and answered very low, &ldquo;Father
+has been gone a long time. They say
+he is shut up somewhere. He don&rsquo;t
+come home any more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, how very dreadful! I don&rsquo;t
+see where you get money to buy things
+with.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hans is fifteen and works in a
+shop. He gets some money, and he
+will get a good deal, by-and-by. The
+rest <em>I</em> get from the flowers. You see
+I raise them myself, mostly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But do you get enough for clothes
+and playthings, and do you always
+have enough to eat?&rdquo; persisted Nell.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>I</em> don&rsquo;t have any clothes, I make
+over mother&rsquo;s. We have Kitty for
+playthings. Enough to eat? <em>Baby</em>
+always has enough, don&rsquo;t she, lovie?&rdquo;
+cuddling her up close.</p>
+
+<p>A new world was opening up to Nell.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Excuse me, but don&rsquo;t you have any
+pleasure trips, or birthday parties, or
+Christmas?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; I don&rsquo;t just know what those
+things are, but we have nice beef and
+apples for dinner on Christmas.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a></span>
+&ldquo;And are you always happy as you
+seem&mdash;really happy?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The &ldquo;little mother&rdquo; opened her
+eyes wide in wonder. &ldquo;Why, <em>of course</em>.
+What else should we be? Mother always
+told us it was wicked to be cross,
+and that we must not fret much, even
+over her going away to heaven.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Nell did some hard thinking on her
+way home, and being a sensible little
+girl, she made up her mind that one
+way to be happy is to be <em>busy</em>, and not
+only busy, but useful, and she set about
+the new way in earnest.</p>
+
+<p>She learned that it is possible to be
+unselfish and happy <em>any where</em>; she in
+her wealthy home, and the &ldquo;little
+mother&rdquo; in her one room, with her
+baby and her flowers.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="red">
+
+<h2><a name="little_scatter" id="little_scatter"></a>LITTLE SCATTER.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">MRS. JEANE A. WARD.</p>
+
+
+<p>She was her mother&rsquo;s darling, and
+a very good little girl in most things.
+With her yellow hair, big blue eyes
+and rosy cheeks; in the pretty blue
+dress and red sash; nice little slippers
+on her plump feet, she made the
+whole house lively and bright, and
+sometimes she made plenty of work
+for every one in it, too, for she was a
+terrible Nelly to scatter playthings.
+The dolly would be on the chair, her
+torn picture-books over the floor, her
+ball kicking about everywhere, and
+her blocks any where.</p>
+
+<p>What could mother do with such a
+girl? When she would talk to her,
+Nelly would promise not to do so
+any more, and would pick up the dolly
+and the pictures, and the ball and the
+blocks, and her other toys, and take
+them to her own corner play-house and
+fix them all in order, and be real good
+for a little while.</p>
+
+<p>But the &lsquo;real good&rsquo; would last only
+a little while and then out all would
+come again, and Little Scatter would
+have them around just as before.</p>
+
+<p>That is the way she came to be given
+that name, and she was old enough to
+know she well deserved it, and to be
+ashamed of it; yet she could not
+break off the bad habit.</p>
+
+<p>She had a kind, good mother, who
+saw that she would have to, in some
+way, cure her little daughter of such
+slovenly habits or else she would grow
+up to be a very careless, untidy woman,
+and the mother was wise enough to
+know that it is more easy to correct
+such matters when children are young
+than when they grow older.</p>
+
+<p>She did not want to punish Nelly
+severely, and so, whenever Little Scatter
+had gotten all her toys over the
+floor, tables, sofa and chairs, mamma
+would call her and say:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Nelly, every thing you have
+is lying about, it is time for my Little
+Scatter to get gathered in close;&rdquo; and
+then Miss Nelly would have to go
+close to the wall and be shut in by a
+chair and stand there until mamma&rsquo;s
+watch said half an hour had passed.
+This was very hard on a little girl that
+loved to run around so much as Nelly
+did, and though she knew she deserved
+all the punishment, yet she used to beg
+very hard and promise, but she always
+had to stay the full time; then she
+would come out, get her mamma&rsquo;s kiss
+and forgiveness, pick up her toys and
+be happy.</p>
+
+<p>It did not take many such punishments
+before Nelly began to think
+before she acted so carelessly, and in
+a short time she was almost as neat
+about such matters as she was sweet
+and good in every thing else. If ever
+there were a few of her things lying
+about, mamma had only to call her
+&lsquo;Little Scatter,&rsquo; to make her remember,
+and so hard did she try to correct
+herself of this bad habit that in a few
+months she and those about her almost
+forgot that she had ever been known
+by such an untidy name.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2 class="smcap"><a name="what_chicky_thinks" id="what_chicky_thinks"></a>What Chicky Thinks.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Seems to me I must be growing big
+very fast. I don&rsquo;t believe I could get
+back into that little house if I should
+try. I don&rsquo;t want to go back, either.
+I had to work too
+hard to get out
+the first time.
+There was no
+door, so I had to
+break the house
+all in pieces with
+my little beak. I
+couldn&rsquo;t stand
+up, you know,
+when I was inside.
+I got very
+tired sitting on
+my little legs. I
+wonder how I
+knew enough to
+break open my little house?
+Nobody ever told me that it was
+prettier in the garden than in my
+house. &rsquo;Tis rather cold out here. I
+never was cold
+before; seems to
+me some little
+chick has carried
+off a part of my
+house. If I see
+him, with it, I&rsquo;ll
+tell him he&rsquo;s a
+thief. Oh, dear,
+dear! something
+is scratching my
+back. May be it&rsquo;s
+the little thief!
+I wish I could
+look and see who
+it is.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/oyf237.jpg" width="300" height="243"
+alt="A just-hatched chick" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="stop_a_while" id="stop_a_while"></a>STOP-A-WHILE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There is growing in Africa a thorn
+called &ldquo;Stop-a-while.&rdquo; If a person once
+gets caught in it, it is with difficulty he
+escapes with his clothes on his back,
+and without being greatly torn,
+for every attempt to loosen one part of
+his dress only hooks more firmly another
+part. The man who gets caught
+by this thorn is in a pitiable plight ere
+he gets loose. You would not like&mdash;would
+you, boys? to be caught in this
+thorn. And yet many, I fear, are being
+caught in a worse thorn than &ldquo;Stop-a-while.&rdquo;
+Where do you spend your
+evenings? At home, I do hope, studying
+your lessons, and attending to mother&rsquo;s
+words; for if you have formed a
+habit of spending them on the streets
+with bad boys, you are caught in a
+thorn far worse.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/oyf238.jpg" width="500" height="355"
+alt="Birds perching on plants" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="the_birds_concert" id="the_birds_concert"></a>THE BIRDS&rsquo; CONCERT.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">MRS. L. L. SLOANAKER.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There&rsquo;s going to be a concert<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Out in the apple trees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the air is warm and balmy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the floating summer breeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waft down the pale pink blossoms<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Upon the soft green grass:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lovely place to sit and dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For each little lad and lass!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The concert will open early<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When the sun lights up the skies:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You&rsquo;ll miss the opening anthem<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">If you let those sleepy eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stay closed, and do not hasten<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Out &rsquo;neath the orchard trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the pink and snowy shower<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is caught in the morning breeze.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The robins will swing in the branches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And carol, and whistle and sing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thrush, who is coming to-morrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Will a charming solo bring.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wrens will warble in chorus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rare music, so touching and sweet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The orioles sent for their tickets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And will surely give us a treat.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The concert will open at sun-rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All the June-time sweet and fair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There&rsquo;ll be a grand full chorus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For <em>all</em> the birds will be there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The concert is free to the children,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And is held in the apple trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the birds will sing in a chorus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;O come to our concert&mdash;please!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="only_a_boy" id="only_a_boy"></a>ONLY A BOY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Only a boy with his noise and fun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The veriest mystery under the sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As brimful of mischief and wit and glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As ever a human frame can be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as hard to manage as&mdash;what! ah me!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">&rsquo;Tis hard to tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Yet we love him well.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Only a boy with his fearful tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who cannot be driven, must be led!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who troubles the neighbors&rsquo; dogs and cats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tears more clothes and spoils more hats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loses more kites and tops and bats<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Than would stock a store<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For a week or more.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Only a boy with his wild, strange ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his idle hours or his busy days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his queer remarks and his odd replies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometimes foolish and sometimes wise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Often brilliant for one of his size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As a meteor hurled<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">From the planet world.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Only a boy, who may be a man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If nature goes on with her first great plan&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If intemperance or some fatal snare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Conspires not to rob us of this our heir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our blessing, our trouble, our rest, our care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Our torment, our joy!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;Only a boy!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="bird_needlework" id="bird_needlework"></a>BIRD NEEDLEWORK.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">MAY R. BALDWIN.</p>
+
+
+<p>There is a class of workers in India
+who have always held to needlework,
+useful and ornamental, through the
+changes of the long years, and have
+never had the help of machines.</p>
+
+<p>These workers are &ldquo;Tailor Birds.&rdquo;
+Specimens of their handiwork have excited
+the admiration of many travelers
+in the country where they are found.</p>
+
+<p>Their needlework is seen in the construction
+of their nests, which vary in
+size and appearance.</p>
+
+<p>The beak of the bird answers for a
+needle; and for thread&mdash;and this is the
+wonderful thing about sewing&mdash;they
+use the silken spiders&rsquo; webs.
+These threads are made secure by fastening
+them with silken buttons, made
+by twisting the ends. Think of that!
+spiders&rsquo; webs for thread! How marvelous
+would the work of the fair ladies
+all over the land seem, if the door
+screens and the window hangings and
+the dresses and the laces were decorated
+with designs worked with spider&rsquo;s
+web thread!</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes, it is true, these birds use
+the silk from cocoons for their work;
+and even such common material as bits
+of thread and wool are used. One
+traveler states that he has seen a bird
+watch a native tailor as he sewed under
+a covered veranda; and, when he had
+left his work for a while, the watchful
+bird flew to the place, gathered some
+of the threads quickly, and then flew
+away with his unlawful prize to use it
+in sewing together leaves for his
+nest.</p>
+
+<p>Imagine one of these bird homes.
+Could any thing be more fairy-like?
+The leaves are joined, of course, to the
+tree by their own natural fastenings.
+But who taught the first bird home-maker
+how to bring the leaves together?
+And who gave the first lessons in sewing?
+And how did it come to choose
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a></span>
+its delicate spider web thread and twist
+it into strength, and fasten it with
+silken buttons?</p>
+
+<p>The great art leader, John Ruskin,
+who has written so many books to
+teach people that all beautiful things
+have their use, and that things that are
+not truthful can never be beautiful,
+would say, I think, that the workmanship
+upon the tailor bird&rsquo;s nest exactly
+fitted his idea of the &ldquo;true and the
+beautiful,&rdquo; because there is no ornament
+which has not its use. The silk
+buttons are not placed there for show;
+they fasten the silken lacing.</p>
+
+<p>We could not say as much for many
+a fine lady&rsquo;s dress, where dozens of
+buttons that fasten nothing are seen.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="he_was_a_gentleman" id="he_was_a_gentleman"></a>HE WAS A GENTLEMAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Some amusing stories are told of the
+wit and wisdom of London school children.
+A class of boys in a Board
+School was being examined orally in
+Scripture. The history of Moses had
+been for some time a special study, and
+one of the examiners asked,&mdash;&ldquo;What
+would you say of the general character
+of Moses?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was meek,&rdquo; said one boy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Brave,&rdquo; said another.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Learned,&rdquo; added a third boy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Please, sir,&rdquo; piped forth a pale-faced,
+neatly dressed lad; &ldquo;he was a gentleman!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A gentleman!&rdquo; asked the examiner.
+&ldquo;How do you make that out?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boy promptly replied, in the
+same thin, nervous voice,&mdash;&ldquo;Please,
+sir, when the daughters of Jethro went
+to the well to draw water, the shepherds
+came and drove them away; and Moses
+helped the daughters of Jethro, and
+said to the shepherds,&mdash;&lsquo;Ladies first,
+please, gentlemen.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="time_for_bed" id="time_for_bed"></a>TIME FOR BED.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Ding-dong! ding-dong!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bells are ringing for bed, Johnnie&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The bells are ringing for bed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I see them swing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I hear them ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I see you nod your head.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bells are ringing for bed, Johnnie&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They are ringing soft and slow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And while they ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And while they swing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It&rsquo;s off to bed we&rsquo;ll go.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="the_value_of_a_good_name" id="the_value_of_a_good_name"></a>THE VALUE OF A GOOD NAME.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Samuel Appleton, a distinguished
+Boston merchant, was once sued for a
+note, found among the papers of a deceased
+merchant tailor, and signed with
+his name. The handwriting was exactly
+like his own, but he declared it to
+be a forgery, albeit his own brother
+said he could not positively say it was
+not Mr. Appleton&rsquo;s writing, though he
+believed it could not be genuine. The
+Judge was against Mr. Appleton, but
+the jury found a verdict in his favor,
+because they were confident that nothing
+could induce him to dispute the
+payment of a note unless certain that
+he did not owe it. Some years later
+Mr. Appleton discovered proof that the
+actual signer of the note was a ship-master
+of the same name, who had been
+dead many years. Thus, the finding of
+the jury was justified. It was based on
+his good reputation and it illustrates
+the truth of the proverb, which says:
+&ldquo;A good name is rather to be chosen
+than great riches.&rdquo; The root of Mr.
+Appleton&rsquo;s good name was his good
+conduct. He was honest and honorable
+in all things.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="dingfords_baby" id="dingfords_baby"></a>DINGFORD&rsquo;S BABY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>That little brother of Hetty Dingford
+was the funniest baby on the
+coast; and there were a good many of
+them, right around the river mouth.</p>
+
+<p>Flora thought so too, or rather she
+looked upon him in the light of a
+puppy, as she had just raised a small
+family herself, and the baby had associated
+so much with the little dogs, that
+she thought she owned him too. She
+seemed to regard him as her especial
+charge, and used to rush between
+him and cattle on the roads, and bark
+away strollers from the door-yard;
+but she seemed to love it most on
+the beach.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever she thought of it, she
+would leave the other children, in
+whose charge the baby had been placed,
+and rush up to the little one, and lick its
+face all over, and bark with a very
+funny sound. The baby would pick up
+a handful of gravel and throw it at the
+dog, but it never hit him, and then they
+would both laugh together.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, Tony Dingford said
+he was going a crabbing, and then
+Hetty and Polly and Janey and the
+baby all wanted to go and see him off.
+Janey took a lovely little boat, that
+had been made for her by her uncle,
+and Polly took her spade and pail to
+dig for shells. Hetty took the baby,
+and she had to carry him every step of
+the way, and she was only eight years
+old; he was a year and a half old and
+couldn&rsquo;t walk very steady, but he could
+creep. Oh, how he could get over the
+ground! He could go sidewise and
+backwards, like a crab, Tony said. He
+thought he could talk, too, and such a
+lot of curious sounds as he used to
+make. He looked very odd, winking
+his eyes and sticking his tongue between
+his four little teeth, and he was
+up to all sorts of tricks.</p>
+
+<p>After awhile they came to the beach,
+right opposite the light-house&mdash;a most
+delightful spot, and Hetty proceeded
+to deposit the baby on the ground,
+when he came to the conclusion that
+he didn&rsquo;t want to be put there, and he
+caught hold of her curly locks and held
+on for dear life, and screamed like a
+sea-gull.</p>
+
+<p>This made Hetty cry out, but nothing
+could induce that baby to let go,
+until a pail with some shells changed
+the current of his thoughts. Hetty
+jumped away, and ran with the children,
+a few steps, to see Tony&rsquo;s boat.</p>
+
+<p>He threw in his basket and crabbing
+net and then, getting in himself, he
+pulled out into the bay. The children
+wandered along, watching Tony as he
+grew a lessening speck out in the sunshine.
+It was such fun to jump on
+the stones, over the water; the shells
+looked more beautiful here, because
+they were wet.</p>
+
+<p>They staid longer than they thought,
+and on going back, they found the pail
+and the shells, but no baby! They
+called, they looked about, but the baby
+was gone! Every one of them cried
+bitter tears; they searched behind
+rocks and under bushes; his little pink,
+spotted cap could not be seen, but the
+marks of his hands and feet showed
+plainly in the sand, and they led down
+to the water!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, baby,&rdquo; said Hetty in her agony,
+&ldquo;you may pull out all my hair if you
+like&mdash;where are you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oo may whack my boat all to pieces,
+baby&mdash;come back to Janey!&rdquo; said her
+sister. No sound answered, and the
+gulls sailed over them, and the blue
+waters lapped the stones. The tide
+was rising, as it was past the middle
+of the afternoon. Nothing was to be
+done, but to carry the dreadful news to
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>As the children approached the
+cottage, they saw their father returning
+with the dog, Flora, and as the father
+caught sight of them he saw that
+something had happened. Hetty approached,
+and, with heart-broken sobs,
+told her story. The mother cried and
+wrung her hands.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a></span>
+&ldquo;Husband, he&rsquo;s drowned! he&rsquo;s
+drowned!&rdquo; she cried. The father
+brushed his hand roughly across his
+eyes, for the tears would come; and
+the dog staring from one to the other,
+looked painfully alert and interested.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go to the beach and search all
+night; maybe he&rsquo;ll be washed up at the
+bend,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Father,&rdquo; said the weeping wife,
+&ldquo;maybe he has not been drowned; oh,
+let us hope he has not! Let us take
+Flora; perhaps she will find the baby.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The father looked at the dog, which
+seemed to understand every word, and
+went into the house and picked up a
+little Indian moccasin that the child
+had worn, and calling Flora, gave it to
+her. She looked at it, smelled of it,
+and throwing her nose into the air,
+rushed toward the beach.</p>
+
+<p>The short, sharp barks of the dog
+guided them to the different spots to
+which the child had crept. But he
+was not found. The dog bounded
+away again, this time in the direction
+of some holes that had been worn in
+the face of the rocks by the tides. The
+water was fast coming up to them, and
+they would be entirely filled before the
+tide turned. The despairing mother
+was about returning with her children
+when the father caught a distant sound,
+a joyful barking that Flora always
+made when she had been successful in a
+hunt. He bounded over the rocks that
+were bathed in the red light of the
+setting sun. He found Flora barking
+and wagging her tail, at the mouth of
+the first little cavern; he stooped and
+looked in, and there on the white sand
+lay the baby, asleep. Its little cap was
+gone, and it dress torn and soiled with
+seaweed.</p>
+
+<p>The father reached for his little
+treasure, and hugged him to his heart.
+The baby laughed, and made most frantic
+efforts to talk, and immediately
+twisted both hands tight in his father&rsquo;s
+hair. This was the baby&rsquo;s way, you
+know, when he wanted to be carried.
+You would have cried for joy, to have
+seen the baby&rsquo;s mother when she
+snatched him from his father and covered
+him with kisses, and the little girls
+clinging to their mother, trying to get
+a look at him.</p>
+
+<p>They went home very happy, to find
+Tony with his basket full of crabs, and
+when he heard the story, he said,&mdash;&ldquo;Flora
+shall have a new brass collar,
+if I have to earn it for her.&rdquo; There was
+one little girl that learned a serious
+lesson. Hetty says,&mdash;&ldquo;I never will
+neglect my duty again.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="a_bed_time_story" id="a_bed_time_story"></a>A BED-TIME STORY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mamma dear, tell us a pretty story;
+tell us of what you and papa saw when
+you were traveling; and my sturdy
+Harold, and his wee baby sister, tired
+with their play, sank at my feet at the
+close of the long summer day. Kissing
+the hot up-turned faces, and lifting
+the little one to my lap, I began an oft
+repeated simple tale of how papa and I,
+while in Switzerland, drove, one evening,
+from the village where we were
+stopping, way out in the country, over
+green wooden bridges and sparkling
+streams, past dazzling white villas,
+through shady lanes bordered by high,
+thorny hedges; where it was so lifeless
+and still, the sound of our shaggy
+pony&rsquo;s hoofs could hardly be heard.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 441px;">
+<img src="images/oyf239.jpg" width="441" height="550"
+alt="A little girl sitting on the doorstep" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Coming to a low, brown, thatched
+cottage, the door stood open, and we
+drove slowly; inside could be seen the
+table, spread with its frugal repast of
+oaten cakes and milk; a high, old-fashioned
+dresser, with its curious jugs of
+blue delf; a distaff, with the flax still
+attached, and on the broad door-step
+sat the prettiest little blue-eyed maiden,
+wearing a quaint white cap over her
+yellow locks, a striped kirtle and black
+waist over a snowy blouse. Like a
+picture she sat, eating her oat-cake,
+while tame gray and white doves circled
+about her or lit on the stones, hoping
+to get a crumb. Farther on, we stopped
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a></span>
+at a more pretentious house, called a
+Swiss chalet, to buy a drink of goat&rsquo;s
+milk. Here they were quite well-to-do
+gardeners; and while the peasant wife
+was gone for the milk, the little daughter,
+who was rather sweetly dressed,
+and was very bright and talkative,
+showed us, with much pride, the heap
+of garden produce her father was to
+take to market, early the next morning.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a></span>
+A pretty sight it was too&mdash;the great
+wooden table, loaded with the fresh
+greens and reds of the vegetables, and
+at one end, guarded by a tall pewter
+flagon, polished till it glowed like silver;
+an old oaken cabinet on the wall, bearing
+glittering decanters and brass candle
+sticks; the chattering little maiden,
+and over all, the golden rays of fading
+sun-light stealing through the deep
+tiny-paned windows. We&mdash;ah, my darlings
+are asleep.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 448px;">
+<img src="images/oyf240.jpg" width="448" height="550"
+alt="A little girl showing off garden produce" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/oyf241.jpg" width="400" height="317"
+alt="A little boy asleep on the ground" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="the_lesson_after_recess" id="the_lesson_after_recess"></a>THE LESSON AFTER RECESS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A bright little urchin out west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thought going to school was a pest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He said, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I just won&rsquo;t stay there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ll have a good time like the rest.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll run off at recess,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They&rsquo;ll never once miss me, I guess;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A fellow can&rsquo;t stop<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When he&rsquo;s got a new top.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There&rsquo;ll just be one good scholar less.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now the &ldquo;rest&rdquo; was a crowd of rough boys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who with rudeness and mischief and noise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Made one afraid<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To go where they played,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But their riotous play he enjoys.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So away from his lessons he ran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This promising western young man.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They pushed him down flat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tore the rim off his hat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said, &ldquo;There&rsquo;s nothing so healthy as tan.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And they did what was very much worse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They stole his new knife and his purse.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They gave him a shake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And they called him a &ldquo;cake;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said, &ldquo;Next time, bub, come with your nurse.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Near sundown this urchin was found<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fast asleep on some very hard ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He looked tired and grieved;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He&rsquo;d been so deceived,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And quite ready for home, I&rsquo;ll be bound.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The primary teacher, Miss Small,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she heard his sad fate, forgave all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&ldquo;My teacher&rsquo;s a daisy!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I&rsquo;m through being lazy.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He said, &ldquo;School&rsquo;s not bad after all.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="the_lion_at_the_zoo" id="the_lion_at_the_zoo"></a>THE LION AT THE &ldquo;ZOO.&rdquo;</h2>
+
+
+<p>In the jungles, where the sun is so
+fierce at noonday that the black natives,
+themselves, cannot endure it, but
+hide in huts and caverns and in the
+shadows of rocks, dwelt this lion.</p>
+
+<p>He did not mind heat, or storm, or
+the tireless hunters. He was braver
+and stronger than any other creature in
+that tropical wilderness, and his very
+appearance and the sound of his terrible
+roar had sent many a band of hunters
+flying back to their safe retreats.</p>
+
+<p>He prowled about the fountains at
+night, and woe to any belated native or
+domestic animal that happened to be
+near; he would leap upon them, and
+kill them with one blow of his huge
+paw.</p>
+
+<p>One day a bushman sighted a fine
+deer, and incautiously separated himself
+from his companions; the ardor of
+the pursuit led him into the pathless
+wilderness, and farther and farther from
+help, if he should need any.</p>
+
+<p>Pausing a moment, he looked about
+him; he could not believe his eyes!
+He saw, not forty rods from him, this
+creature, regarding him! intense excitement
+flashing from his eyes, his tail
+swaying from side to side, and striking
+the ground with a heavy thud.</p>
+
+<p>The bushman fled in wild terror, and
+with a bound the lion began the chase.
+No match, indeed, could any one man
+hope to be for such an enemy&mdash;no outrunning
+this fleet patrol of the forest;
+roaring and foaming he came up with
+the doomed hunter and struck him
+down and killed him.</p>
+
+<p>The roaring over his success was
+something too terrible to hear. The
+other creatures of the forest fled to their
+dens and coverts, and the party of hunters,
+dimly locating the lion&rsquo;s whereabouts,
+betook themselves to other
+grounds, not caring to encounter so
+formidable a foe. Little did they suspect
+the fate of their comrade, and
+they never knew of it until, a long time
+afterward, they found the remains of
+his hunting gear. The beast had torn
+him to pieces and devoured him.</p>
+
+<p>The devastations of this scourge of
+the wilderness became so great in time,
+that he depopulated whole villages, and
+the superstitious natives, believing him
+to be a demon, became so stricken with
+fear that they would not attempt to
+hunt him, and thus rid the forest of
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Some agents of a business firm in
+Holland, who negotiate for the purchase
+of these ferocious wild animals
+for menageries, secured, by promises
+of great help and large reward, a band
+of intrepid native hunters, to procure,
+if it were within the range of possibility,
+this famed lion, alive.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/oyf242.jpg" width="250" height="245" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A BEAUTIFUL DEER.</p>
+
+<p>White men joined in the hunt. Brave
+Englishmen and fearless Americans
+attached themselves to the party, and
+many were the hair-breadth escapes
+and critical situations that crowded
+upon their path.</p>
+
+<p>On reaching the lion&rsquo;s neighborhood,
+they took counsel as to the best way
+of coming upon him, not knowing just
+where his lair might be; but soon
+they were guided to him by a distant
+roaring. The advance hunters caught
+their first glimpse of him before he was
+aware of their presence. He had slain
+his prey&mdash;the pretty creature lay near
+the jungle lake, the sword grass and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a></span>
+the poisonous marsh flowers flaunting
+their lush growth all about. The animal&rsquo;s
+smooth coat was brown and
+glossy, and its black hoofs shone
+bright in the sunshine. The lion repeated
+the same expressions of gratified
+savagery he had indulged in when
+he had devoured the native. He strode
+about, lashing his tail and roaring.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 401px;">
+<img src="images/oyf243.jpg" width="401" height="550"
+alt="A huge lion" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HE WAS FINALLY CAGED.</p>
+
+<p>The fearful encounter began! Many
+of the natives were killed. One young
+English nobleman was thought to have
+received his death wound, when they
+came to close
+quarters. The
+creature was
+overcome by
+numbers and
+heroic bravery
+at last. He
+was maimed,
+disabled and
+secured, in the
+deft and expeditious
+way
+they have
+learned in dealing
+with these
+animals. He
+was finally
+caged, and the
+rejoicings of
+the natives
+knew no
+bounds; the
+exploit was
+celebrated
+with feasting,
+dancing and
+wild observances,
+the
+women and the
+children joining
+in the uncouth
+festivities.</p>
+
+<p>He was removed
+by his
+foreign purchasers,
+and
+eventually secured
+by a
+City Park Commission,
+and
+was liberated
+to walk about a
+spacious cage, to delight the thousands
+who visit the menagerie, that
+affords so much instructive amusement.
+He usually lies down in one
+corner, and although he has lost much
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a></span>
+of his magnificent appearance, he
+is still worthy to be called the &ldquo;Forest
+King.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>If you happen to be in his section
+when he gets hungry and calls for his
+dinner, you will be greatly astonished,
+if not frightened, at the sound of his
+voice. It is like nothing else in nature.
+It vibrates to the roof of the vast structure,
+and the windows rattle in their
+frames. He tramps about and lashes
+his tail against the bars and stamps his
+feet, and his keeper hurries to throw
+him his ration of raw meat. When he
+is satisfied, he lies down and purrs as
+good-naturedly as a pussy cat, and looks
+you in the eyes with an unwinking
+stare.</p>
+
+<p>You and I most earnestly hope that
+he may never contrive to escape.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 275px;">
+<img src="images/oyf244.jpg" width="275" height="177"
+alt="A kitten asleep in a slipper" />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="disobeying_mother" id="disobeying_mother"></a>DISOBEYING MOTHER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I think, little goslings, you&rsquo;d better not go.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You&rsquo;re young, and the water is chilly, you know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">But when you get strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">You can sail right along&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go back in the sunshine, or walk in a row.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;No, no! we will go,&rdquo; said those bold little things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except one little dear, close to mother&rsquo;s warm wings.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Out went all the rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">On the water with zest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They said, &ldquo;We will venture, whatever it brings.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their mother looked out, so kind and so true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adown where the rushes and lily-pads grew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">They looked very gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">As they paddled away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With their bright, yellow backs, on the water so blue.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Come back!&rdquo; cried their mother, &ldquo;come back to the land!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I fear for my dear ones some evil is planned.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">But they ventured beyond<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The shore of the pond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laughed at her warnings, and spurned her command.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Farewell, to the goslings! their troubles are o&rsquo;er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They were pelted with stones, by boys on the shore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Afar from the bank,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">They struggled and sank,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down deep in the water, to come up no more.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, see what it cost them, to have their own way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their punishment came without stint or delay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">But the sweet one that stayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And its mother obeyed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lived long, and was happy for many a day.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 442px;">
+<img src="images/oyf245.jpg" width="442" height="600"
+alt="Two boys and a dog playing a game" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption green">PLAYING BARBER.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="plants_that_eat" id="plants_that_eat"></a>PLANTS THAT EAT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>These plants are so constructed as
+to attract insects, capture them in
+various ways, and feed
+upon them. Perhaps the
+best known of the group is
+<i>Venus&rsquo; Fly-Trap</i>. The
+leaves vary from one to six
+inches long, and at the extremities
+are placed two
+blades, or claspers. On the
+inner walls of these claspers
+are placed six irritable
+hairs; the slightest touch
+from an insect on any one
+of which is sufficient to
+bring the two blades together
+with such rapidity
+as to preclude any possibility
+of the fly escaping.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 182px;">
+<img src="images/oyf246.jpg" width="182" height="275" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">LEAVES OF THE
+FLY-TRAP OPENED
+AND CLOSED.</p>
+
+<p>This plant readily discriminates
+between animal
+and other matter; thus, if
+a small stone or piece of wood be
+dropped into the trap, it will instantly
+close, but as soon as it has found out
+its mistake&mdash;and it only takes a few
+minutes&mdash;it begins to unfold its trap,
+and the piece of
+wood or stone falls
+out. On the other
+hand, should a piece
+of beef or a bluebottle
+fly be
+placed in it,
+it will remain
+firmly
+closed until
+all the matter
+is absorbed
+through the
+leaf. It will
+then unfold
+itself, and is
+ready for another
+meal.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 178px;">
+<img src="images/oyf247.jpg" width="178" height="250" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">AUSTRALIAN PITCHER PLANT.</p>
+
+<p>Another species is called the <i>Vegetable
+Whiskey Shop</i>, as it captures its
+victims by intoxication. The entire
+shop is shaped after the manner of a
+house, with the entrance projecting a
+little over the rim. Half-way
+round the brim of the
+cavity there are an immense
+number of honey glands,
+which the influence of the
+sun brings into active operation.
+This sweet acts as
+a lure to passing insects,
+and they are sure to alight
+on the outside edge and
+tap the nectar.</p>
+
+<p>They, however, remain
+there but a brief period, as
+there is something more
+substantial inside the cavity
+in the shape of an intoxicating
+liquid, which is
+distilled by the plant. The
+way down to this beverage
+is straight, as the entrance
+is paved with innumerable fine
+hairs, all pointing to the bottom, and
+should the fly walk crooked its feet become
+entangled in them.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 176px;">
+<img src="images/oyf248.jpg" width="176" height="225" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">AMERICAN SIDE-SADDLE FLOWER.</p>
+
+<p>When the fly has had its first sip, it
+does not stop and fly right out, as it
+could do,
+but it indulges
+until it comes
+staggering
+up and
+reaches
+that portion
+where
+the hairs
+begin; here
+its progress
+outward
+is
+stopped,
+owing to
+the points
+of the hairs
+being placed against it. The fly
+is now in a pitiable plight; it attempts
+to use its wings, but in doing
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a></span>
+so only hasten its
+destruction. It inevitably
+gets immersed
+in the liquid,
+and dies drunk.</p>
+
+<p><i>Australian Pitcher
+Plant</i> is a beautiful
+little object. Its
+pitchers are at the bottom of the principal
+stem of the plant.</p>
+
+<p>One species distils an intoxicant of
+its own; but owing to its small orifice,
+it excludes the majority of insects, and
+admits but a select few. The individual
+pitchers somewhat resemble an
+inverted parrot&rsquo;s bill, with a narrow
+leaf-like expansion running along the
+top. The color is light green, beautifully
+shaded with crimson. The inside
+of the pitcher is divided into three
+parts: The first, nearest the entrance,
+is studded with minute honey glands,
+and is called the attractive surface; a
+little farther down the inside, very
+minute hairs are situated with
+their extremities all pointing to
+the other chamber. This is the
+conducting surface.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 438px;">
+<img src="images/oyf249.jpg" width="438" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE PITCHER PLANT OF
+MADAGASCAR.</p>
+
+<p>Lastly, the small hairs give
+place to the longer ones, amid
+which are placed secreting pores,
+which give forth the intoxicating
+nectar. This is termed the detentive
+surface. When the
+pitcher has caught a sufficient
+number of insects, the nectar
+gives place to a substance which
+enables the plant more readily to digest
+its food.</p>
+
+<p>Another variety is the <i>Mosquito
+Catcher</i>. It grows about one foot high,
+and the leaves, after reaching a certain
+height, divide into long, narrow spathes,
+covered with hairs, each coated with a
+bright gummy substance. This, during
+sunshine, gives to the plant a most
+magnificent appearance. If a plant be
+placed in a room where mosquitoes
+abound, all the troublesome pests will
+in a brief period be in its steady embrace.</p>
+
+<p>It is most interesting to watch the
+method by which it secures its prey.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306"></a></span>
+Immediately the fly alights on the leaf,
+it may be that only one of its six legs
+stick to the sweet, viscid substance at
+the extremity of the hairs; but in struggling
+to free itself, it invariably touches
+with its legs or wings the contiguous
+hairs, and is immediately fixed.</p>
+
+<p>These little hairs meantime are not
+idle; they slowly but surely curl round
+and draw their victim into the very center
+of the leaf, thus bringing it into
+contact with the very short hairs, which
+are placed there in order to facilitate
+the process of sucking the life-blood
+from the body.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="green">
+
+<h2><a name="the_cuckoo_clock" id="the_cuckoo_clock"></a>THE CUCKOO CLOCK.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The clock is Swiss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a curious thing it is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Set like a flower against the wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a face of walnut brown<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twelve white eyes always staring out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And long weights hanging down.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">But there is more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the top is a little close-shut door.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when &rsquo;tis time for the hour-stroke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And at the half-stroke too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It opens wide of its own accord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And, hark,&mdash;&ldquo;Cuckoo, cuckoo!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">What do you see?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why, with a trip and a courtesy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if to say,&mdash;&ldquo;Good day, good day,&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Out steps a tiny bird!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though no soul were near to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He&rsquo;d pipe that same blithe word.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Through all the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through dawn&rsquo;s pale flush, and noon&rsquo;s full light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even at twilight, when the dusk<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hides all the room from view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of his little cabinet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He calls,&mdash;&ldquo;Cuckoo, cuckoo!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Though but a toy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet might the giddiest girl or boy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Learn three most pleasant truths from it:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How patiently to wait,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How to give greeting graciously,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And never to be too late.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">&rsquo;Tis sweet to hear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though oft repeated, a word of cheer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So this little comrade on the wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This bird that never flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is an hourly comfort, with his call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&ldquo;Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="poet smcap">Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="davys_girl" id="davys_girl"></a>DAVY&rsquo;S GIRL.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">ALEX. DUKE BAILIE.</p>
+
+
+<p>She was only five years old, hardly
+that, but a stout, healthy little creature,
+full of love and fun, but often hard to
+manage.</p>
+
+<p>Maggie was her name, but she would
+call herself nothing but &ldquo;Davy&rsquo;s girl.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Davy, her brother, a brave, good boy,
+about fifteen years of age, was all she
+had to cling to, and she was his only
+treasure. They were orphans; their
+father had been drowned, with many
+other poor fishermen, when Maggie
+was a wee baby, and the mother, soon
+after, died, from worry and hard work.</p>
+
+<p>So these two were all alone in the
+world, but they did not feel lonely, for
+each one was all the world to the other.</p>
+
+<p>They lived with an old fisherman
+and his wife, on the shores of the ocean,
+in New Jersey; and in the inlets and
+about outside, Davy used to go with the
+men, in the boats, and help them fish;
+sometimes he would work in-shore, for
+the truck farmers; sometimes help to
+gather the salt hay from the marshes.
+He would work hard at any thing so as
+to make money to keep his little sister
+comfortable and to give her all it was
+well for her to have.</p>
+
+<p>In winter he would tramp through
+cold and snow and storms, several miles,
+to the little town where the school was,
+and so, every year, he gained a few
+weeks of instruction.</p>
+
+<p>The people among whom these orphans
+lived were rough, but kind-hearted,
+and Davy always had enough
+work to enable him to earn money sufficient
+to keep Maggie and himself in
+the simple way in which every body
+about them lived.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever he had an idle half-day,
+or even a few hours, he would take the
+little girl and his books, and go down
+to the shore, and getting into one of
+the boats always to be found drawn up
+on the sand, he would study hard to
+learn, for he was anxious to get on in
+the world, not only for his own, but his
+sister&rsquo;s sake, and Maggie would take
+one of the books, and open it, and run
+her little fat finger over the page, and
+move her lips, and make believe that
+she, too, was studying her lessons and
+she would keep still as a little mouse,
+until, after a few minutes of nodding,
+her eyes would close, then her head
+would drop on Davy&rsquo;s knee, and she
+would be off&mdash;sound asleep, until it
+was time for him to go.</p>
+
+<p>It happened, one afternoon, as Davy,
+with Maggie, was going to the boat,
+which was his favorite place of study, a
+farmer drove along and asked him if he
+could not go and help with some work.</p>
+
+<p>They were very near home yet, and
+when Davy said, &ldquo;Maggie, will you run
+right home?&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;&rsquo;Es;&rdquo;
+so the brother saw her start off towards
+the house, which was in sight, then
+jumped in beside the farmer, and they
+drove off.</p>
+
+<p>It was several hours before the boy returned.
+He went directly home, and as
+soon as he entered, called, &ldquo;Maggie!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maggie aint here,&rdquo; said Mrs. Baker,
+who was busy cleaning up the floor,
+&ldquo;she hasn&rsquo;t been here since you took
+her out with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>If ever there was a frightened boy,
+it was Davy, then. He knew how careless
+his little sister was, and how she
+loved to go down and splash in the
+water, and play around the deep pools.
+He could look, from the door, all along
+the beach and out on the sea, and there
+was no sign of his little girl. Mrs.
+Baker was frightened, too, when he
+told her all. They ran to the few
+houses about, and while some of the
+children had seen Maggie, it was hours
+before; since then she had disappeared
+entirely.</p>
+
+<p>It was a terrible blow to the poor
+boy, and he blamed himself as he
+thought that perhaps his dear little sister
+was dead under the great waves,
+or her body was being washed away far
+beyond his reach. He ran up and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"></a></span>
+down, everywhere calling her name
+as loudly as he could, but no answer
+came.</p>
+
+<p>Almost blind, with the tears in his
+eyes, he stood still for a moment to
+think, when he caught sight of a little
+paper book. He knew it at once; he
+had made it for Maggie so that she
+would not soil or tear his own. In a
+moment he was running as fast as his
+feet would carry him to the boat on
+the sand, a considerable distance off;
+quickly he reached it, and climbed up
+the side. No Maggie yet.</p>
+
+<p>The great sail lay in a heap before
+him; he walked around it, and there,
+all curled up, fast asleep, was his runaway
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>How his heart did jump for joy as he
+picked her up, and kissed and petted
+her.</p>
+
+<p>But Maggie cried, and said he hurt her.</p>
+
+<p>Then he found that in climbing into
+the boat to &ldquo;study her lessons,&rdquo; she
+had sprained her ankle, and she had
+been very miserable all by herself, and
+cried and called for him until she fell
+asleep.</p>
+
+<p>The books, all but one, were lying on
+the other side of the boat, on the sand.
+Davy never minded them, precious as
+they were to him, but taking his little
+sister on his strong back, he carried
+her home, her arms about his neck and
+her cheek close to his; and Maggie had
+to stay in the house, with her foot bandaged,
+for a week. But Davy never forgot
+that fright nor left her to herself
+again until she was much older; and
+the little girl never thought of disobeying
+his orders after that. They had
+both learned a hard lesson.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2 class="smcap"><a name="early_tea" id="early_tea"></a>Early Tea.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 267px;">
+<img src="images/oyf250.jpg" width="267" height="325"
+alt="A cat pushes a pram containing another cat" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Five little pussies<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sitting down to tea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pretty little pussies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Happy as can be!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Three little pussies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All in a row,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ranged on the table,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Two down below.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Five little pussies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Dressed all in silk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waiting for the sugar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Waiting for the milk.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear little pussies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">If you would thrive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breakfast at nine o&rsquo;clock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Take tea at five.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="boney" id="boney"></a>BONEY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Boney was not a thin cat by any
+means, as his name would suggest.
+He was very stout for his age; this
+could be explained by the fact that
+he had always looked out for number
+one, and had managed to secure a great
+many nice things to eat in the course
+of his short life.</p>
+
+<p>His coat, which was striped, gray and
+black, had an infinite number of shades
+in it and was so beautiful, that more
+than one lady wanted to buy him.</p>
+
+<p>Boney was not his whole name. A
+lovely romance could be written, I&rsquo;ve
+no doubt, out of the adventures of this
+cat, before Fannie found him, one cold
+morning, in the summer-house. He
+was covered with dust and leaves, and
+moaning piteously. Fannie said,&mdash;&ldquo;Pussy,
+pussy,&rdquo; to him; and he tried
+to get up and come to her, but he
+couldn&rsquo;t make any progress, and John
+Henry came up at that moment, and
+taking up the cat by the back of the
+neck, looked at it critically, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;That
+cat ain&rsquo;t a-going to die&mdash;he&rsquo;ll
+come out all right in a few days; he&rsquo;s
+been pelted with stones by those children
+that live at the cross-roads, I
+think.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Fannie followed her brother into the
+house with the cat, and he gave it some
+warm milk, and Fannie covered it up,
+snug, by the kitchen stove.</p>
+
+<p>It was surprising how soon that
+pussy got well; and John Henry chose
+to call him Boneset. The name took
+in the household, and though Fannie
+called him &ldquo;Boney,&rdquo; Boneset was his
+real name. John Henry bought him a
+collar, and Fannie would tie a beautiful
+scarlet ribbon on this, and away
+they&rsquo;d go together, down the road to
+the village post-office. He&rsquo;d look very
+sharply at the meadow-birds flitting
+over the stone fences, and the yellow
+butterflies on the tall mullen stalks, as
+if he would say,&mdash;&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get you any
+of those you&rsquo;d like to have, my dear
+mistress.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Fannie would say, &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t think
+of it, Boney; I would like to have
+them, but it would be wicked to catch
+them you know.&rdquo; Pussy did not want
+to give up the sport of hunting them,
+however, and Fannie would have to
+take him right up, and carry him until
+they had passed them.</p>
+
+<p>He had such lovely coaxing ways;
+he knew to a minute when it was lunch
+time, and he had his in the kitchen,
+but he would steal up into the dining-room,
+and pass round softly to Fannie&rsquo;s
+place, and pop up into her lap&mdash;or, if
+she were standing up, he&rsquo;d get upon the
+table and rub his furry cheek against
+her shoulder, and shut one eye.</p>
+
+<p>Then Fannie would turn round, and
+his comical appearance, sitting there
+with his little pink tongue sticking out
+between his lips, would make Fannie
+just jump up and down with laughing.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, he wanted some of Fannie&rsquo;s
+lunch, and he always got it, and
+this was the way he managed to get so
+fat and sleek.</p>
+
+<p>One unfortunate time, Fannie was
+very sick; the room was darkened, and
+the doctor came. All the pets were
+not allowed to come near the room.</p>
+
+<p>It was, oh, so lonesome for Boney.
+No one petted him like his little mistress,
+and they didn&rsquo;t put up with his
+tricks, or laugh at his funny pranks.</p>
+
+<p>The time went by heavily enough, he
+had not had on any of his ribbons, and
+he would go and stay away from home
+for days together, and when he came
+home just before dark, he had a wild
+look, as if he had been in rough company.</p>
+
+<p>On a lovely morning in June, Fannie
+was carried down stairs, to sit in the
+bay window, in the sunshine, and the
+ivy hung down its fresh, green leaves.</p>
+
+<p>Boney saw her the first thing. His
+delight knew no bounds; he rubbed his
+back against her chair, turned his head
+around in her robe as it lay on the carpet,
+and jumped into her lap! And
+Fannie smoothed his back with her
+little thin hand.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a></span>
+After a time he went away, and nobody
+thought any thing about him, till
+dinner-time, when, what should they
+see coming up the piazza steps, but
+Boney, with a bobolink in his mouth!
+He walked right up to Fannie, and laid
+it down at her feet, and looked up at
+his little mistress, with such a satisfied,
+happy expression on his face, as if he
+would say,&mdash;&ldquo;There, that&rsquo;s the best I
+could do, and you are welcome to it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Fannie understood his good intentions,
+and laughed heartily, and that
+was the beginning of her recovery.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon, she was able to go out
+again, and she and Boney had the
+best of times that summer.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="catching_snow_flakes" id="catching_snow_flakes"></a>CATCHING SNOW FLAKES.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">BY MRS. S. J. BRIGHAM.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Down from the sky, one winter day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The snow-flakes tumbled and whirled in play.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">White as a lily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Light as a feather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Some so chilly<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Were clinging together.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falling so softly on things below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Covering all with beautiful snow.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Drifting about with the winds at play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hiding in hollows along the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">White as a lily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Light as a feather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Coming so stilly<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In cold winter weather.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Touching so lightly the snow-bird&rsquo;s wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silently covering every thing.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Every flake is a falling star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gently falling, who knows how far?<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">White as a lily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Light as a feather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Hosts so stilly<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Are falling together.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every star that comes fluttering down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falls, I know, from the Frost King&rsquo;s crown.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="a_mischievous_monkey" id="a_mischievous_monkey"></a>A MISCHIEVOUS MONKEY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Jocko was hardly more than a baby
+monkey, but he was so full of mischief
+that he often made his mother very
+sad. Jocko&rsquo;s father used to get angry
+with him; sometimes he used to give
+Jocko a good spanking; only he hadn&rsquo;t
+a slipper as the father of little boys have!
+Jocko&rsquo;s father and mother used to try
+to teach him that it was very bad manners
+to snatch any thing from the visitors
+who came up to the cage. That
+was a very hard lesson for Jocko to
+learn. One day he snatched a pair of
+spectacles from an old lady, who was
+looking into the cage and laughing;
+the old lady screamed with fright.
+Jocko tried to put the spectacles on
+himself; but the keeper made him give
+them up. When the old lady got her
+glasses again, she didn&rsquo;t care to look at
+the monkeys any more.</p>
+
+<p>Another day Jocko was taken very
+sick; he laid down in one corner of the
+cage, and could not be made to move.
+His mother thought he was going to
+die, and she was quite sure that some
+of his monkey cousins had hurt him.
+&ldquo;Not so,&rdquo; chattered Jocko&rsquo;s father, &ldquo;I
+found some pieces of gloves among the
+hay; I think the bad fellow has
+snatched them from somebody, and
+partly eaten them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dear, dear,&rdquo; chattered mother monkey,
+&ldquo;I think you are right.&rdquo; When
+she turned Jocko over, he was so afraid
+of being punished, that he pretended
+to be fast asleep; but he heard all that
+his father and mother had said, and
+knew that they guessed right.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They&rsquo;re just like boys,&rdquo; said George
+Bliss one day, as he stood looking at
+the monkeys in Central park. George
+is a boy, and he ought to know. But
+there is a great difference after all.
+Boys can learn, better than monkeys,
+not to get into mischief, and bother
+their parents, and other people who
+come where they are. Some boys do
+not behave better than monkeys.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 444px;">
+<img src="images/oyf251.jpg" width="444" height="600"
+alt="A group of three monkeys, with others in the background" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A MISCHIEVOUS MONKEY.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="the_african_slave_boy" id="the_african_slave_boy"></a>THE AFRICAN SLAVE BOY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There are few who have not heard
+or read of the great traveler, Sir Samuel
+Baker, who found his way into the heart
+of Africa, and whose brave wife accompanied
+him in all his perilous journeys.
+The natives, when they found how kind
+he was, and how interested in trying to
+help them, called him the Great White
+Man.</p>
+
+<p>One day, after traveling a long distance,
+Sir Samuel and Lady Baker were
+sitting, in the cool of the evening, in
+front of their tent, enjoying a cup of
+tea in their English fashion, when a
+little black boy suddenly ran into the
+courtyard, and throwing himself at
+Lady Baker&rsquo;s feet raised his hands toward
+her, and gazed imploringly into
+her face.</p>
+
+<p>The English lady thought that the
+little lad was hungry, and hastened to
+offer him food; but he refused to eat,
+and began, with sobs and tears, to tell
+his tale. He was not hungry, but he
+wanted to stay with the white lady and
+be her slave.</p>
+
+<p>In broken accents he related how
+cruelly he had been treated by the master,
+who stole him from his parents
+when he was quite a little boy; how he
+made him earn money for him, and
+beat him because he was too small to
+undertake the tasks which were set
+him. He told how he and some other
+boys had crept out of the slave-hut at
+night and found their way to English
+Mission House, because they had heard
+of the white people, who were kind to
+the blacks.</p>
+
+<p>Then little Saat, for that was his
+name, made Lady Baker understand
+how much he loved the white people,
+and how he wished to be her little
+slave. She told him kindly that she
+needed no slave-boy, and that he must
+go back to his rightful master. But little
+Saat said, &ldquo;No, he had no master;&rdquo;
+and explained that the Missionaries had
+taught him a great deal, and then sent
+him, with some other lads, to Egypt, to
+help in the Mission work.</p>
+
+<p>Unfortunately, his companions had
+soon forgotten the good things they
+had been taught, and behaved so badly
+that the Missionaries in Egypt refused
+to keep them, and turned them out, to
+find their way back as best they might
+to their own people; but Saat had no
+people of his own, and he never rested
+until he succeeded in finding the Great
+White Man of whom he had heard so
+much.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Baker&rsquo;s kind heart was touched.
+She determined to keep the little black
+boy and train him to be her own attendant.
+He accompanied the travelers
+upon their wonderful journey to the
+Source of the Nile, and his attachment
+to his mistress was very touching.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="climbing" id="climbing"></a>CLIMBING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The ivy, while climbing, preserves
+its pointed leaf, but when it has reached
+the top of its support it spreads out
+into a bushy head and produces only
+rounded and unshapely leaves.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ivy, climbing upward on the tower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In vigorous life its shapely tendrils weaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, resting on the summit, forms a bower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sleeps, a tangled mass of shapeless leaves.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So we, while striving, climb the upward way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And shape by enterprise our inner lives;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when, on some low rest we idly stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our purpose, losing point no longer strives.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author smcap">Elliot Stock.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 441px;">
+<img src="images/oyf252.jpg" width="441" height="600"
+alt="A woman teaches a little girl" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">LEARNING TO KNIT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 458px;">
+<img src="images/oyf253.jpg" width="458" height="600"
+alt="Birds of prey squabble over a duck" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">TUG OF WAR.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="little_elsie" id="little_elsie"></a>LITTLE ELSIE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">FAITH LATIMER.</p>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t thee ath a Chineth baby
+lookth any differenth from any other
+folkth baby, do you, Perthy?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I am trying to find
+out,&rdquo; said Percy, whom his little sister
+May called her &ldquo;big brother;&rdquo; for
+only that morning she had said to her
+mother,&mdash;&ldquo;I will athk Perthy, he ith
+tho big, he muth know every thing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Percy was as full of wonder as little
+May over the baby sleeper. He wanted
+to see the back of her head, but it
+was resting on the soft pillow, and the
+eyes were tightly closed. May stood
+at the foot of the bed longing, and yet
+afraid, to pull up the cover, and look at
+the little feet. &ldquo;Do you thpect she
+wearth pink thatin thlipperth like thothe
+in the glath cathe?&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>The voices did not waken the baby
+even when Percy made May give a little
+scream as he pulled her braided hair,
+and carried off the ribbon, saying,&mdash;&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve
+got a Chinese pig-tail anyway.&rdquo;
+Did you ever see a big brother do any
+thing like that? Then Percy went out
+and slammed the door, and left little
+May thinking very hard, and the baby
+asleep, after all that noise. What
+was May thinking about? She had
+heard mamma talk a great deal about
+China, and had seen queer pictures of
+people with bald heads and a long
+braid of hair hanging down behind, and
+in the cabinet in the sitting-room was
+a pair of tiny pink satin slippers, so
+small that her little hand could just go
+into one of them. Then she had a
+Chinese doll with almost a bald head,
+and the queerest shaped eyes; and that
+was why she and Percy wanted this baby
+to wake up that they might see what
+she looked like. That very morning
+while the children were visiting their
+grandmother, a carriage came to their
+house, bringing a little baby and its
+mother; and by the time they got
+home, the child was in May&rsquo;s crib, fast
+asleep, and the two mothers were talking
+together as they had not done for
+years before. Baby Elsie was not
+easily wakened, for she never had a
+very quiet place to sleep in. She was
+quite used to strange noises on shipboard,
+creaking ropes and escaping
+steam, loud voices giving orders to
+sailors, sometimes roaring waters and
+stormy winds. She had been many
+nights in a railroad sleeping-car, and
+she was not disturbed by the rush of
+wheels, or the whistling of the locomotive.
+Before that, she lived part of her
+little life on a boat in a narrow river,
+and a few months in a crowded, noisy
+house. Does it seem as if she had
+been quite a traveler? She had just
+come all the way from China&mdash;a land
+on the other side of the round world&mdash;and
+that was the reason that May
+called her a Chinese baby. Percy and
+May had never seen Elsie&rsquo;s mother,
+although she was their own aunt, for
+she and her husband had been more
+than ten years missionaries in China,
+and had come on a visit to America.
+Don&rsquo;t you think the two mothers, dear
+sisters, who had been so long and so
+far apart, had a great deal to say to
+each other? Do you expect they
+wanted Elsie to sleep quite as much as
+her cousins wanted her to wake? She
+was a good child, but she knew how to
+cry, and after a few days Percy said,&mdash;&ldquo;She&rsquo;s
+not so much after all, she can&rsquo;t
+talk and tell us anything, and when she
+cries, she boo-hoo&rsquo;s just as you do, May.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In a week, two more Chinese travelers
+came; the baby&rsquo;s father, and
+another cousin, Knox, a boy nine years
+old. Did you ever fire off a whole
+pack of Chinese fire-crackers at a time?
+That was almost the way that questions
+were asked by the two boys, back and
+forth, so quick and fast that there was
+hardly time to answer each one. The
+boy from Shanghai found as many
+things strange to him as the New
+York boy would have seen in China.
+Percy, and May, although she could
+not understand half she heard, were full
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a></span>
+of wonder as Knox told of living on a
+boat in the river, of so many boats
+around them, where people lived
+crowded together as closely as houses
+could be on land. He told of the
+cities, of narrow, crooked streets, all the
+way under awnings, to be shielded
+from the hot sun; of riding many miles
+in a wheel-barrow, with a Chinaman to
+push it along the road. They all
+laughed when Percy said they called
+their cousin Elsie &ldquo;a Chinese baby;&rdquo;
+and the grown folks helped to tell
+about the black-eyed babies over there,
+wrapped up in wadded comforts and
+placed standing, a great, round roll, in a
+tall basket, instead of a cradle. Percy
+thought the best thing he heard was
+of a boy in a royal family. He had to
+be well taught, for he must be a wise
+scholar in Chinese learning, but no one
+dared to touch or hurt him; so a poor
+boy of low rank was hired and kept in
+the house to take all the whippings for
+him; and whenever the young prince
+deserved correction, the bamboo rod
+was well laid on the poor boy&rsquo;s back.
+What would you think of such a plan?
+Elsie&rsquo;s father and mother were going
+back to China, but they were not willing
+that Knox should grow up there;
+he must go to some good school and
+stay in this country. Even little Elsie
+they dared not trust out of their sight
+among the Chinese.</p>
+
+<p>And so for the love of the dear Master,
+who said,&mdash;&ldquo;Go and teach all
+nations,&rdquo; they were willing to leave
+father and mother, and home, loving
+sister and friends, even their own young
+children, for His sake.</p>
+
+<p>Don&rsquo;t you believe our heavenly Father
+will watch over Knox and Elsie, and
+make them grow up wise and true;
+ready to go back to the land where they
+were born, to carry on the good work
+their father and mother are doing in
+that strange, far-off country?</p>
+
+<p>Do you know of any ways in which
+children at home can help such work
+in China, or in other far-off foreign
+lands?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="kitty_striker" id="kitty_striker"></a>KITTY STRIKER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little Kitty Striker saw<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A handsome, fat, old goose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out a-walking with her gosling.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And she said,&mdash;&ldquo;Now what&rsquo;s the use,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of letting that old waddler have<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Such a pretty thing as that?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ll run right out and get it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I&rsquo;ll go without my hat.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out she ran upon the dusty path,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On the grass, all wet with dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the old goose turned round quickly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She wished an interview.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Kitty said,&mdash;&ldquo;Oh, open your mouth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As much as ever you please;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;m going to take your gosling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Because I love to tease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such a cranky, impudent squawker as you.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And she laughed right out, and stooped<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To take the toddling little thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When down upon her swooped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The angry goose with hisses fierce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And wildly flapping wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gave her a nip that was no joke!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On the heel of her red stocking!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Miss Kitty screamed, but tightly held<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The little yellow ball,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you know she&rsquo;d not the shadow of right<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To that goose&rsquo;s gosling at all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then its mother made a terrible snap<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At Kitty&rsquo;s pretty blue dress!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that thoughtless, mischievous little girl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was pretty well frightened I guess.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she jumped and screamed, danced round like a top,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the goose&rsquo;s eyes flashed red;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she struck her wings in Kitty&rsquo;s eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And on her little brown head!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She dropped the gosling, and ran for home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Screaming, and crying,&mdash;&ldquo;Boo! hoo!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And learned a lesson she never forgot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And it&rsquo;s as wholesome for me and for you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That it&rsquo;s best to be kind to our barnyard friends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And let them have their fun too.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="maying" id="maying"></a>MAYING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Phil says he thinks it is a great pity
+when the May isn&rsquo;t out till June, because
+you can&rsquo;t go Maying if there
+isn&rsquo;t any May, and it&rsquo;s so stupid to go
+Maying in June. Phil is eleven months
+and fourteen days younger than I am,
+and his birthday is on the fourteenth of
+February and mine is on the first of
+March; so for fourteen days we are the
+same age, and when it&rsquo;s Leap Year we
+are the same age for fifteen days.</p>
+
+<p>I don&rsquo;t understand <em>why</em> it should be
+a day more some years and not others,
+but mother says we shall learn about it
+by-and-by. Phil says he will like learning
+all that, but I don&rsquo;t think I shall,
+because I like playing better.</p>
+
+<p>Phil and I have a little dog of our
+own, and he belongs between us. His
+name is Dash. He came from the
+Home for Lost Dogs, and we didn&rsquo;t
+know his name, so Phil and I sat on
+the grass, and we called him by every
+name we could think of, until Phil
+thought of Dash, and when Dash
+heard that name he jumped up, and
+ran to Phil, and licked his face. We
+don&rsquo;t know what kind of dog he is, and
+father called him a &lsquo;terrier spaniel;&rsquo;
+but he laughed as he said it, and so
+we&rsquo;re not quite sure that he wasn&rsquo;t in
+fun. But it doesn&rsquo;t matter what kind
+of dog Dash is, because we are all fond
+of him, and if you&rsquo;re fond of any one
+if doesn&rsquo;t matter what they&rsquo;re like, or
+if they have a pretty name.</p>
+
+<p>Dash goes out with us when we take
+a walk, and I&rsquo;m sure he knew yesterday
+when we went out without leave, because
+we wanted to go Maying. There&rsquo;s
+a beautiful hedge full of May blossoms
+down the lane and across the meadow,
+and we <em>did</em> want some May very badly.
+So Phil and I went without asking
+mother, and Dash went with us.</p>
+
+<p>We found the place quite easily, and
+had pulled down several boughs of it,
+when we heard a gruff voice calling to
+us, and the farmer came up, asking what
+we were doing to <em>his</em> hedge.</p>
+
+<p>I said, &ldquo;Please, we didn&rsquo;t know it
+was yours, and we want some May very
+much, because to-morrow&rsquo;s the first of
+June, you know, and Phil says we can&rsquo;t
+go Maying then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The farmer didn&rsquo;t say any thing until
+he caught sight of Dash, and then he
+called out, angrily,&mdash;&ldquo;If that dog gets
+among my chickens, I shall have him
+shot!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>We were so frightened at that, that
+we ran away; and Dash ran too, as if
+he understood what the farmer said.
+We didn&rsquo;t stop for any May blossoms
+though we had picked them, and we
+did want them so, because of its being
+the thirty-first of May.</p>
+
+<p>Phil said the farmer was calling after
+us, but we only ran the faster, for fear
+he should shoot Dash. When we got
+home, mother met us in the porch, and
+asked where we had been; then we
+told her all about the farmer, and how
+we wanted to go Maying while we
+could.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little, but presently
+she looked quite grave, and said,&mdash;&ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+very glad to find you have told me the
+whole truth, because if you had not I
+should still have known it. Farmer
+Grey has been here, and he told me
+about your having gone across his
+meadow that he is keeping for hay.
+He has brought you all the May you
+left behind, and he says you may have
+some more if you want it, only you
+must not walk through the long grass,
+but go round the meadow by the little
+side-path. He said he was afraid he had
+frightened you, and he was sorry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Phil and I had a splendid Maying
+after that. We made wreaths for ourselves,
+and one for Dash, only we
+couldn&rsquo;t get him to wear his, which
+was a pity.</p>
+
+<p>But the best of all is that mother
+says she can always trust us, because
+we told the truth at once; and Phil and
+I think we would rather never go Maying
+any more (though we like it so much)
+than not tell her every thing. I&rsquo;m sure
+it&rsquo;s a very good plan, and we mean to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a></span>
+do it <em>always</em>, even when we&rsquo;re quite
+grown up. Mother laughs at that, and
+says,&mdash;&ldquo;You will have your secrets
+then;&rdquo; but Phil and I don&rsquo;t think we
+shall, because it couldn&rsquo;t be a really
+nice secret if we mightn&rsquo;t tell mother.</p>
+
+<p class="author">I. T.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="gracies_temper" id="gracies_temper"></a>GRACIE&rsquo;S TEMPER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Once a gentle, snow-white birdie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Came and built its nest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a spot you&rsquo;d never dream of,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In a baby&rsquo;s breast.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then how happy, gentle, loving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Grew the baby, Grace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the smiles and all the dimples<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Brightened in her face.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But a black and ugly raven<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Came one morn that way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came and drove the gentle birdie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From its nest away.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah! how frowning and unlovely<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was our Gracie then.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until evening brought the white dove<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To its nest again.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Children, this was Gracie&rsquo;s raven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This her gentle dove,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In heart a naughty <em>temper</em><br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Drove away the <em>love</em>.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><a name="anecdote3" id="anecdote3"></a>
+<span class="dcapa"><span class="dropcap">A</span></span>MONG
+the passengers
+on board
+a river-steamer
+recently
+was a
+woman,
+accompanied
+by a bright-looking nurse-girl, and a
+self-willed boy, about three years old.</p>
+
+<p>The boy aroused the indignation of
+the passengers by his continued shrieks
+and kicks and screams, and his viciousness
+toward the patient nurse. He tore
+her bonnet, scratched her hands, without
+a word of remonstrance from the
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever the nurse showed any
+firmness, the mother would chide her
+sharply, and say,&mdash;&ldquo;Let him have it,
+Mary. Let him alone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Finally the mother composed herself
+for a nap; and about the time the boy
+had slapped the nurse for the fiftieth
+time, a bee came sailing in and flew on
+the window of the nurse&rsquo;s seat. The
+boy at once tried to catch it.</p>
+
+<p>The nurse caught his hand, and said,
+coaxingly:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Harry mustn&rsquo;t touch. It will bite
+Harry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Harry screamed savagely, and began
+to kick and pound the nurse.</p>
+
+<p>The mother, without opening her
+eyes or lifting her head, cried out,
+sharply:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why will you tease that child so,
+Mary? Let him have what he wants
+at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, ma&rsquo;am, it&rsquo;s a&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let him have it, I say.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus encouraged, Harry clutched at
+the bee and caught it. The yell that
+followed brought tears of joy to the
+passengers.</p>
+
+<p>The mother awoke again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mary!&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;let him have it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mary turned in her seat, and said,
+confusedly:&mdash;&ldquo;He&rsquo;s got it, ma&rsquo;am.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="the_sweet_grass_house" id="the_sweet_grass_house"></a>THE SWEET-GRASS HOUSE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">MRS. S. J. BRIGHAM.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two little mice went out one day<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Among the scented clover;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They wandered up and down the lane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They roamed the meadow over.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, deary me!&rdquo; said Mrs. Mouse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;I wish I had a little house!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said Mr. Mouse,&mdash;&ldquo;I know a place<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where nice sweet grass is growing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where corn-flowers blue, and buttercups<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And poppies red, are blowing.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, deary me!&rdquo; said Mrs. Mouse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll build us there a house.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So, of some sweet and tender grass<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They built their house together;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And had a happy time, through all<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The pleasant summer weather.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, deary me!&rdquo; said Mrs. Mouse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Who ever had so nice a house?&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="johnnys_garden" id="johnnys_garden"></a>JOHNNY&rsquo;S GARDEN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Johnny had a garden plot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And set it all in order,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let it run to grass and weeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which covered bed and border.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two stalking sun-flowers reared their heads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So firmly were they rooted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Johnny, as he looked at them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was any thing but suited.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two children small, looked up and said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Oh, Mister, beg your pardon!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, if you will not answer that,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Say, sonny, where&rsquo;s your garden?<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;What d&rsquo;ye call those two large flowers?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">An&rsquo; what&rsquo;ll ye take, an&rsquo; sell em?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You&rsquo;d better put a ladder up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So folks our size can smell &rsquo;em.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;We heard old Mrs. Grubber say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&lsquo;That spot ye needn&rsquo;t covet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He&rsquo;d better turn it into hay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Or make a grass-plot of it.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Johnny never answered back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But went and dug it over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soon again, his sprouting seeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He plainly could discover.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll have a garden yet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And make a little money;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I never liked those Podger twins,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They try to be so funny.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="boy_billy_and_the_rabbit" id="boy_billy_and_the_rabbit"></a>BOY BILLY AND THE RABBIT.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Billy, boy! Billy, boy!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He was his mother&rsquo;s joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he couldn&rsquo;t shoot an arrow worth a cent;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And a rabbit almost laughed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As she watched the flying shaft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the place upon the target where it went.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The rabbit passing by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So very soft and sly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Took Billy for a hunter gaily dressed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But when she came anear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She said, &ldquo;&rsquo;Tis very clear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It&rsquo;s safe enough to stay and take a rest.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Said the rabbit, &ldquo;Billy, boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You never will annoy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Anybody, by your shooting at a mark;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With an arrow and a bow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I just would like to show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can reach the bull&rsquo;s-eye nearer in the dark.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Just then an arrow flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That pierced it thro&rsquo; and thro&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which made Miss Bunny start, and jump, sky high!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She cried, &ldquo;Oh, dear! Oh, dear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It&rsquo;s safer in the rear;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And scampered off and never said,&mdash;&ldquo;Good-bye.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">You see the reason why,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&rsquo;Tis always best to try,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho&rsquo; others laugh and slander all the same;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For be it late or soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They&rsquo;ll always change their tune,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they see your arrow doesn&rsquo;t miss its aim.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321"></a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="a_fish_story" id="a_fish_story"></a>A FISH STORY.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">HOPE LEDYARD.</p>
+
+
+<p>Six eager faces, all crowding around
+to &ldquo;see the picture!&rdquo; Four of the faces
+belong to girls&mdash;Edith and Mamie,
+Birdie and Jeanie, while Al and Dick,
+who are pretty big boys, &ldquo;over ten,&rdquo;
+lean over the back of the chair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>He&rsquo;s</em> had a good catch,&rdquo; says Al.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>He&rsquo;s</em> not caught those,&rdquo; says Dick,
+while the girls look first at the picture
+and then at the boys. &ldquo;I guess that
+fellow standing up in the boat is his
+father. The men have caught the fish
+and the boy takes them to sell. Why,
+a fish as big as one of those fellows
+could pull a boy right into the water,
+easy!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My brother Dick <em>knows</em>,&rdquo; whispers
+Jeanie, proudly. &ldquo;He took me fishing
+once and I caught two fish.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The little girls look as if they could
+hardly believe this, so Jeanie pulls
+mamma&rsquo;s arm and asks, &ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t I catch
+two fish last summer?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed she did,&rdquo; says Dick, before
+mamma has time to answer. &ldquo;She
+caught two sun-fish. I never saw any
+one do it better. Mother fried &rsquo;em for
+her dinner, too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My sister goes to a cooking school
+and learns to bake fish,&rdquo; says Edith,
+&ldquo;and she is teaching me at home. I
+know the verse about cooking fish.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>We all begged Edith to say the
+verse, so, after a little coaxing, she
+repeated:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Our lesson is fish, and in every dish<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We would like to meet our teacher&rsquo;s wish.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But many men have many minds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There are many fishes of many kinds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So we only learn to boil and bake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To broil and fry, and make a fish-cake.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And trust this knowledge will carry us through<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When other fishes we have to &lsquo;do.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Edith is a little orphan girl who lives
+with her grandmother and sister Minnie.
+We are all so interested about
+the cooking class, that she tells us
+about how they learn to bake bread.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I mixed the bread last Friday night
+and made some biscuit in the morning,
+and if I hadn&rsquo;t forgotten the salt they
+would have been splendid. I don&rsquo;t
+remember all the verses about bread,
+but one verse is:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;Now you place it in the bread bowl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A smooth and nice dough ball,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Last, a towel and a cover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And at night that&rsquo;s all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when morning calls the sleeper<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From her little bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She can make our breakfast biscuit<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From that batch of bread.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, it&rsquo;s girls&rsquo; work to cook and
+boys&rsquo; work to catch,&rdquo; said Al, who was
+getting tired of hearing verses.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jeanie did some catching before she
+was five years old, and you forget how
+nicely papa cooked the breakfast when
+you were camping out last summer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose his cooking, like Jeanie&rsquo;s
+fishing, was just an accident.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, indeed! Good cooking has to
+be learned,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;and this picture
+makes me think of the first fish I had
+to cook, and what a foolish girl I had.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, mamma&rsquo;s going to tell us a
+story about when she was a girl,&rdquo;
+Jeanie exclaims. So all take seats&mdash;Jeanie
+on my lap, the boys on the two
+arms of my chair, and the three little
+sisters on chairs or footstools.</p>
+
+<p>Not about when I was a girl, but
+about when I was a very young wife.</p>
+
+<p>You boys know that I had always
+lived in a big house in the city, where
+the servants did all the cooking and
+such work, while I practiced music
+or studied or visited my Sunday-school
+scholars. I was just as fond of them
+in those days as I am now. Well!
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322"></a></span>
+Your papa took me to a dear little
+house, far, far away, near Lake George.
+I had a very young girl to help me
+about the house, who did not know
+any thing about cooking. I thought I
+knew a good deal, for I had learned to
+bake bread, and roast meat and make a
+cup of tea or coffee. I had just as
+much fun keeping house in that little
+cottage as Jeanie has playing house up
+stairs. But one day papa went off in a
+hurry and forgot to ask me what I
+wanted for dinner. He was to bring a
+gentleman home that day and I hoped
+he would send me a good dinner.</p>
+
+<p>About ten o&rsquo;clock Annie, my little
+servant, came to me and said, &ldquo;Oh,
+ma&rsquo;am, the butcher&rsquo;s here with a beautiful
+fish the master has sent for the
+meat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A fish! Annie, do you know how
+to cook fish?&rdquo; I said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, ma&rsquo;am. Only it&rsquo;s fried they
+mostly has &rsquo;em.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I went into the kitchen and there lay
+a beautiful trout&mdash;too pretty to eat, it
+seemed to me. Certainly too pretty to
+be spoiled by careless cooking. So I
+took my receipt book and after reading
+carefully, I stuffed the pretty fish and
+laid him in a pan all ready for the
+oven, and told Annie to put it in at
+eleven o&rsquo;clock.</p>
+
+<p>I was pretty tired, so I lay down
+for a little nap, and had just dropped
+asleep when Annie came into the room,
+wringing her hands and saying, &ldquo;Oh,
+ma&rsquo;am! Oh, ma&rsquo;am! What&rsquo;ll I do in
+the world?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It seems that she had taken the fish
+out of the safe and put it, pan and all,
+on the table, and then, remembering I
+had told her to sprinkle a little pepper
+on it, she went to the closet for her
+pepper-box, and when she came back,
+the pan was empty!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The cat stole it, Annie,&rdquo; I said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indade and she didn&rsquo;t. The innocent
+cratur was lyin&rsquo; on my bed and
+the door shut.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I tried to quiet the girl; but I told
+her at last she could go home that
+night, only she must dry her eyes and
+run to the butcher&rsquo;s for a steak, for the
+master would be home with a strange
+gentleman in half an hour. We managed
+to get the steak cooked, and papa
+tried to laugh Annie out of the notion
+of a ghost stealing our beautiful fish,
+but the girl would not smile and was
+afraid to be left alone in the kitchen.
+So after tea she packed up her things
+and was to take the stage to the depot;
+for Annie lived a long way off.</p>
+
+<p>Just before the stage came as I was
+standing at the gate, my eyes full of
+tears at losing my nice little servant all
+on account of a fish, I saw the lady who
+lived across the way open her gate and
+come toward our house. I saw the
+stage stop a few doors off as she came
+to our gate and bowing to me said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Excuse me, we are strangers, but
+did you lose a fine trout to-day?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She must have thought me mad, for
+I rushed into the house, and called:
+&ldquo;Annie, Annie, I&rsquo;ve found the fish!
+Now put your things back in the bureau,
+you silly girl.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then I went back and invited my
+neighbor in, telling her about Annie&rsquo;s
+fright.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, it was our Nero&mdash;our great
+dog! I was away at my mother&rsquo;s or I
+would have brought it back, for I was
+sure it belonged to you. Nero must
+have slipped in, nabbed the fish, and
+brought it to our house. He laid it on
+the kitchen floor, as if he had done
+a very good deed, my girl tells me,
+and she, foolish thing, thought he had
+brought it from my mother&rsquo;s, and
+cooked it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>We had a hearty laugh at our stupid
+servants, and were great friends from
+that day, and I never see a picture of
+fish for sale, but I think of my first
+trout, which I prepared for dinner with
+such care, but never tasted. Annie
+never dared say &ldquo;ghosts&rdquo; after that,
+and lived with us till Dick was three
+years old. But there is papa, and these
+little girls must have a piece of cake
+and run home.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"><!-- back cover --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 425px;">
+<img src="images/oyf254.jpg" width="425" height="600"
+alt="Back cover - a boy and girl ice skating" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="bbox">
+<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p>
+
+<p>The story <a href="#sailor_babies">SAILOR BABIES</a> seems to end rather
+abruptly, and the poem following, <a href="#pretty_polly_primrose">PRETTY
+POLLY PRIMROSE</a>, seems to start in the middle. Another copy of the book was
+checked and found to be the same, with no sign of a missing page, so this is
+probably a printing error.</p>
+
+<p>The poem starting "<a href="#dick_and_gray">Dick and Gray</a>" was originally
+in the middle of the story <a href="#the_return_of_the_birds">THE RETURN OF
+THE BIRDS</a>; the poem has been moved before that story for readability.</p>
+
+<p>The second page of the story <a href="#dime_and_betty">DIME AND BETTY</a>,
+starting "I drive Betty to pasture every day," was obtained from a different
+copy of the book, which was identical in all aspects except the layout of the
+copyright page.</p>
+
+<p>The story <a href="#the_tower_of_london">THE TOWER OF LONDON</a> consistently
+refers to Anne Boleyn as Anna Boleyn. This has been preserved as printed.</p>
+
+<p>Punctuation errors have been repaired. Inconsistent spelling and
+hyphenation has been preserved as printed across different pieces, but
+made consistent within individual pieces, as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="amends">
+<p><a href="#in_the_woods">IN THE WOODS</a>&mdash;Molly amended to
+Mollie&mdash;"&ldquo;You were mistaken, Mollie, I&rsquo;m sure.&rdquo;"</p>
+
+<p><a href="#how_the_days_went_at_sea_gull_beach">HOW THE DAYS WENT AT SEA-GULL BEACH</a>&mdash;Estelle
+amended to Estella&mdash;"We put the pole through the handle and Estella and
+myself took hold ..."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#dingfords_baby">DINGFORD'S BABY</a>&mdash;Hettie amended to
+Hetty&mdash;"That little brother of Hetty Dingford was the funniest baby
+on the coast; ..."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The following amendments have also been made:</p>
+
+<div class="amends">
+<p><a href="#the_laughing_jackass">THE LAUGHING JACKASS</a>&mdash;rellishes
+amended to relishes&mdash;"He relishes lizards very much, and there are plenty ..."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#the_laughing_jackass">THE LAUGHING JACKASS</a>&mdash;rotton
+amended to rotten&mdash;"She lays here egss on the rotten wood at the bottom
+of the hole."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#tommy_and_the_gander">TOMMY AND THE GANDER</a>&mdash;then amended
+to them&mdash;"Tommy took one of them in his hands."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#fans_cards_a_christmas_hint">FAN'S CARDS</a>&mdash;Chrisrmas
+amended to Christmas&mdash;"Then they all waved their cards and cried
+&ldquo;Merry Christmas! ...&rdquo;"</p>
+
+<p><a href="#who_killed_the_goose">WHO KILLED THE GOOSE?</a>&mdash;alway amended to
+always&mdash;"&ldquo;People are always saying dogs do things,&rdquo; ..."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#mrs_gimsons_summer_boarders">MRS. GIMSON'S SUMMER
+BOARDERS</a>&mdash;fricaseed amended to fricasseed&mdash;"If coffee and
+fricasseed chicken would not be just the thing ..."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#mrs_gimsons_summer_boarders">MRS. GIMSON'S SUMMER
+BOARDERS</a>&mdash;heir amended to their&mdash;"... with their
+graceful talk, and numberless resources of entertainment."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#small_beginnings">SMALL BEGINNINGS</a>&mdash;close by amended to
+by close&mdash;"... and by close application to his studies, ..."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#autumn_leaves_and_what_katie_did">AUTUMN LEAVES, AND WHAT KATIE
+DID</a>&mdash;thown amended to thrown&mdash;"... their leaves are thrown away,
+and they are empty-handed."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#waifs_romance">WAIF'S ROMANCE</a>&mdash;presented amended to
+prevented&mdash;"... even if the overflowed valley had prevented her
+accustomed excursions; ..."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#waifs_romance">WAIF'S ROMANCE</a>&mdash;receeding amended to
+receding&mdash;"... until he came to a good sized pond left by the receding
+waters ..."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#waifs_romance">WAIF'S ROMANCE</a>&mdash;smuggled amended to
+snuggled&mdash;"... the kitten was snuggled up as close to her brute protector ..."</p>
+
+<p><a href="#two_little_girls">TWO LITTLE GIRLS</a>&mdash;befel amended to
+befell&mdash;"And this is what befell;"</p>
+
+<p><a href="#the_lion_at_the_zoo">THE LION AT THE "ZOO"</a>&mdash;purs amended
+to purrs&mdash;"... he lies down and purrs as good-naturedly as a pussy cat, ..."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The gold ornamentation on the front cover was badly damaged, and has
+been reconstructed as accurately as possible.</p>
+
+<p>A table of contents has been added for the convenience of the reader.</p>
+
+<p>The frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page.
+Illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in
+the middle of a paragraph.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR YOUNG FOLKS AT HOME AND ABROAD ***</div>
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:47:22 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:47:22 -0700
commit	b8f4747c334aaf6f9b7b39b529f4ad284d7be9b2 (patch)
tree	d4cefedeb4cfa3720e596c438b91fde76e539059 /29357-h