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diff --git a/65368-0.txt b/65368-0.txt index 0b8eb8a..c025bb5 100644 --- a/65368-0.txt +++ b/65368-0.txt @@ -1,2620 +1,2620 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Little Tot’s Own Book, by Anonymous
-
-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
-www.gutenberg.org. 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.
-
-Title: Our Little Tot’s Own Book
- of Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and
- Jingles
-
-Author: Anonymous
-
-Release Date: May 17, 2021 [eBook #65368]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Richard Tonsing, Juliet Sutherland, and the Online
- Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK ***
-
-[Illustration]
-
- “WHAT DO THEY SAY IN BABY-LAND?”
- “WHY, THE ODDEST THINGS;
- MIGHT AS WELL
- TRY TO TELL
- WHAT A BIRDIE SINGS!”
-
-[Illustration]
-
- BABY-LAND.
-
- “HOW MANY MILES TO BABY-LAND?”
- “ANY ONE CAN TELL;
- UP ONE FLIGHT,
- TO YOUR RIGHT:
- PLEASE TO RING THE BELL.”
-
- “WHAT DO THEY DO IN BABY-LAND?”
- “DREAM AND WAKE AND PLAY;
- LAUGH AND CROW,
- SHOUT AND GROW:
- HAPPY TIMES HAVE THEY!”
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
- OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK
- OF
- _Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and Jingles_.
-
-
- NEW YORK:
- HURST & COMPANY,
- PUBLISHERS.
-
-
-
-
- Copyright, 1912
- —BY—
- HURST & COMPANY
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
-_There was once a very happy little girl who spent her childhood on an
-old green farm. She had a little sister, and these two children never
-knew what it was to possess toys from the stores, but played, played,
-played from dawn till dark, just in the play-places they found on that
-green farmstead. I so often have to tell my children “how mama used to
-play”—for I was that very happy little girl—that I think other “little
-women” of these days will enjoy knowing about those dear old simple
-play-times._
-
-
- I.—THE LITTLE STUMP-HOUSE.
-
-One of my pet playhouses was an old stump, out in the pasture. Such a
-dear, old stump as it was, and so large I could not put my arms more
-than half way round it!
-
-Some of its roots were partly bare of earth for quite a little distance
-from the stump, and between these roots were great green velvety moss
-cushions.
-
-On the side, above the largest moss cushion, was a little shelf where a
-bit of the stump had fallen away. On this little shelf I used to place a
-little old brass candlestick. I used to play that that part of the stump
-was my parlor.
-
-Above the next moss cushion were a number of shelves where I laid pieces
-of dark-blue broken china I had found and washed clean in the brook.
-That was my dining-room.
-
-There were two or three little bedrooms where the puffy moss beds were
-as soft as down. My rag dolly had many a nap on those little green beds,
-all warmly covered up with big sweet-smelling ferns.
-
-Then there was the kitchen! Hardly any moss grew there. I brought little
-white pebbles from the brook, and made a pretty, white floor. Into the
-side of the stump above this shining floor, I drove a large nail. On
-this nail hung the little tin pan and iron spoon with which I used to
-mix up my mud pies.
-
-My sister had a stump much like mine, and such fine times as the owners
-of those two little stump-houses used to have together, only little
-children know anything about.
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: THE STUMP PLAY-HOUSE.]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- THE STOLEN LITTLE ONE.
- A TRUE STORY.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Two little girls went shopping with their mamma. While she was at the
-end of the store, Julie, the youngest, ran to the door. Her mother was
-too busy to notice her, but Julie’s sister Mattie was watching her. She
-saw a tall woman pass the door, and snatch up little Julie. Without a
-word to her mother, Mattie ran after them.
-
-Away they went down the street. The woman would soon have outrun Mattie,
-but her screams attracted the attention of a policeman. He followed too.
-They came up with the woman as she was darting into a cellar. Mattie
-told the policeman that the bad woman had stolen her sister Julie. He
-soon took both children home. Their mother was overjoyed to see them,
-and praised Mattie for being such a brave little girl. She never let
-Julie go out of her sight again, when she took her out on the street.
-
- PINK HUNTER.
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- II.-THE OLD APPLE-TREE.
-
-There was an old apple-tree in the orchard that was the oldest tree in
-the town. It overtopped the house, and the trunk was very big and brown
-and rough; but O, the millions of fine green leaves, as soft and smooth
-as silk, that it held up in the summer air!
-
-In the spring it was gay with pink and white blossoms, and then for days
-the tree would be all alive with the great, black-belted bees. A little
-later those sweet blossoms would fall off in a rosy rain, and Myra and I
-would stand under the old apple-tree and try to catch the little,
-fluttering things in our apron! And then, later still, came little
-apples, very sour at first, but slowly sweetening until it seemed to me
-that those juicy, golden-green apples tasted the best of any fruit in
-all the world! My apron-pockets were always bursting with them!
-
-There was a famous horse up in the old tree. It could only be reached by
-means of a ladder placed against the old tree’s stout trunk! A strange
-horse, you would call him, but O, the famous rides that I have had on
-that horse’s broad, brown back! The name of the horse was “General.”
-
-Up among the leaves where the sunshine played hide-and-seek was one dear
-bough that was just broad enough and just crooked enough to form a nice
-seat. Another bough bent round just in the very place to form a most
-comfortable back to that seat. A pair of stirrups made of rope, some
-rope reins tied to the trunk of the tree, and there was my horse, “all
-saddled and all bridled!”
-
-I put my feet into the stirrups, shake my bridle-reins and cry, “Get up,
-General!”
-
-The bough would sway a little, and I and the birds would be off
-together, swinging and singing, up in a fair green world where there was
-no one to disturb nest or little rider! The birds would sing to me, and
-I would sing to them, and which of those little singers was the
-happiest, I do not know!
-
-But I do know that my little heart was full of glee and joy to the brim!
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: RIDING “GENERAL.”]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- SHE WISHED TO BE A PRINCESS.
- _A True Story._
-
-
-Little Mary had had a volume of Hans Andersen’s Fairy Stories given her
-at Christmas. The story she liked best was “The Princess and the Pea,”
-for, like all little girls, little Mary had a natural desire to be a
-Princess.
-
-When she went to bed at night with her doll little Mary would think to
-herself, “Oh, how beautiful to be a real princess of such very fine
-blood as to feel a little bit of a pea under twenty mattresses!”
-
-One morning a comforting idea came to little Mary. “Who knows,” she said
-to herself, “with all my very many great grandfathers and grandmothers,
-but p’raps I am related to some King or Queen way back?”
-
-Thereupon, she went to her mother’s pantry and took a bean from the
-jar—as large a one as she could find—and, going to her room, put it
-carefully under the hair mattress. That night she went to bed happy,
-with joyful hopes.
-
-In the morning little Mary’s elder sister found her with her head buried
-in her pillow crying. “Oh,” little Mary sobbed, “I did think I might
-have just a little speck of royal blood in my veins, but I couldn’t feel
-even that big bean under just one mattress!”
-
-Nothing would comfort little Mary until her mama explained to her that
-even princesses were not happy unless they had good hearts; and _she_
-could have, if she tried, just as good and royal a heart as any Princess
-under the sun.
-
- _Anne Fiske Davenport._
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- III.—THE LITTLE POND.
-
-Out in the pasture, was a little pond. This little pond was quite deep
-in the time of the spring and autumn rains. At such seasons Myra and I
-would take our little raft made of boards, and by means of some stout
-sticks would push the raft around on that little pond for hours. The
-wind would raise little waves, and these waves would splash up against
-the sides of our little raft with a delicious sort of noise.
-
-We used to dress a smooth stick of wood in doll’s clothes. We used to
-call this wooden dolly by the name of Mrs. Pippy. We would take Mrs.
-Pippy on board our ship as passenger. Somehow, Mrs. Pippy always
-contrived to fall overboard. And then, such screaming, such frantic
-pushing of that raft as there would he, before that calmly-floating Mrs.
-Pippy was rescued!
-
-Just beyond the further edge of the pond was a little swampy place where
-great clumps of sweet-flag used to grow. Sweet-flag is a water-plant
-whose leaves are very long and slender and their stem-ends, where they
-wrap about each other, are good to eat. In summer this little sweet-flag
-swamp was perfectly dry. But when the rains had come and the little pond
-was full, this little sweet-flag swamp was covered with water.
-
-Right between the pond and the swamp lay a big timber, stretching away
-like a narrow bridge, with the pond-water lapping it on one side and the
-swamp-water lapping it on the other. Such exciting times as we used to
-have running across that little bridge after sweet-flag!
-
-“Run! run!” we would cry to each other; and then, away we would go,
-running like the wind, yet very carefully, for the least misstep was
-sure to plump us into the water!
-
-When the water in the swamp had nearly dried up, a bed of the very
-nicest kind of mud was left. Taking off our shoes and stockings, we
-would dance in that sticky mud until we were tired. Then we would hop
-over the timber and wash our small toes clean in the pond.
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-
-
-
- _Clever Tommy._
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-“You like clever cats, Arthur,” said Laura; “and I am sure this is one.
-See how funnily he is drinking the milk with his paw. Did you know this
-cat, mamma?”
-
-“Yes, my dear, I was staying at the house when his mistress found him
-out. We used to wonder sometimes why there was so little milk for tea,
-and my friend would say ‘They must drink it in the kitchen, for the neck
-of the milk jug is so narrow, Tom could not get his great head in.’
-
-“But Tom was too clever to be troubled at the narrow neck of the milk or
-cream jug, and one day when his mistress was coming towards the parlor
-through the garden, she saw Tom on the table from the window, dipping
-his paw into the jug like a spoon and carrying the milk to his mouth.
-Did he not jump down quickly, and hide himself when she walked in, for
-he well knew he was doing wrong.”
-
-“And was he punished, mamma?”
-
-“No, Laura, although his mistress scolded him well, and Tom quite
-understood, for cats who are kindly treated are afraid of angry words.”
-
-“Did you ever see Tom drink the milk in this way?”
-
-“Yes, for his mistress was proud of his cleverness, and she would place
-the jug on the floor for him. When she did that, Tom knew he might drink
-it, and he would take up the milk in his paw so cleverly that it was
-soon gone.”
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- FLOWERS.
-
-
- How stilly, yet how sweetly,
- The little while they bloom,
- They teach us quiet trustfulness,
- Allure our hearts from selfishness,
- And smile away our gloom:
- So do they prove that heavenly love
- Doth every path illume!
-
- How stilly, yet how sadly,
- When summer fleeteth by,
- And their sweet work of life is done,
- They fall and wither, one by one,
- And undistinguish’d lie:
- So warning all that Pride must fall,
- And fairest forms must die!
-
- How stilly, yet how surely,
- They all will come again,
- In life and glory multiplied,
- To bless the ground wherein they died,
- And long have darkly lain:—
- So we may know, e’en here below,
- Death has no lasting reign!
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- IV.—THE LITTLE BROOK.
-
-We had a merry playmate in a little brook that ran down through the
-sunny meadows! It slipped and slid over little mossy pebbles and called
-to us, “Follow, follow, follow!” in the sweetest little voice in the
-world!
-
-Sometimes, I would kneel down on the little low bank, and bend my head
-down close, and ask, “Where are you going, little brook?”
-
-It would splash a cool drop of spray in my face, and run on calling,
-“Follow, follow, follow!” just as before.
-
-Wild strawberries grew red and sweet down in the tall grass, and great
-purple violets, and tall buttercups nid-nodding in the wind.
-
-Very often Myra and I would take off our shoes and stockings, and wade.
-The roguish little brook would tickle my small toes, and try and trip me
-up on one of its little mossy stones. Once I did slip and sat right down
-in the water with a great splash! And the little brook took all the
-starch out of my clothes, and ran off with it in a twinkling.
-
-Now and then, I would fasten a bent pin to a string and tie the string
-to the end of a stick and fish for the tiny minnows and tadpoles. But,
-somehow, I never caught one of the little darting things. I used to
-believe the brook whispered them to keep away from that little shining
-hook.
-
-Sometimes, I would take a big white chip and load it with pebbles or
-violets and send it down stream. The sly little brook would slip my boat
-over one of its tiny waterfalls just as quick as it could! If my little
-boat was loaded with pebbles, down would go my heavy cargo to the
-bottom! But if it were loaded with violets, then a fleet of fairy purple
-canoes would float on and on, and away out of sight.
-
-A great green frog with big, staring eyes watched from the side of the
-brook. Now and then, he would say, “Ker-chug!” in a deep voice. I used
-to ask him in good faith, what “ker-chug!” meant. But he did not tell,
-and to this day I have not found out what “ker-chug” means.
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: “WILD STRAWBERRIES GREW RED AND SWEET DOWN IN THE TALL
-GRASS.”]
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- V.—THE MEADOW-ROCKS.
-
-Another place where I played was out on the meadow-rocks. Right down in
-a level spot in the meadow were three great rocks. Each one of these
-rocks was as large as a dining-room table. Right through this little
-flat place ran the brook I have told you about, bubbling round our three
-great rocks.
-
-0, what splendid playhouses those rocks were! We each owned one. The
-third was owned by that wooden doll, Mrs. Pippy. In order to get to
-either one of the houses you had to cross a little bridge that spanned a
-tiny river. Also there were dear little steps up the sides of the rocks
-which it was such a pleasure to go up and down.
-
-On the top of the rocks, which were almost as flat as the top of a
-table, were little closely-clinging patches of moss that we called our
-rugs. There were queer-shaped hollows in the tops of these rocks. In one
-little moss-lined hollow I used to cradle my baby-doll. Another hollow
-was my kitchen sink. I used to fill up my sink with bits of broken
-dishes, turn on some water from the brook, and then such a scrubbing as
-my dishes got!
-
-At the rocks, kneeling down on the planks that formed our bridges, we
-used to wash our dollies’ clothes. Then we would spread them on the
-grass to dry. Didn’t we use to keep our babies clean and sweet!
-
-Afterwards, pinning our short skirts up about us, we would wash the
-floors of our little rock houses until they shone. When everything was
-spick-and-span, we would unpin our skirts, pull down our sleeves, rub
-our rosy cheeks with a mullein leaf to make them rosier, and with a big
-burdock leaf tied on with a couple of strings for a bonnet we would go
-calling on our lazy neighbor, Mrs. Pippy, and give her a serious
-“talking-to.”
-
-Or, perhaps, we would call on each other and talk about the terrible
-illnesses our poor children were suffering from. Or, perhaps, we would
-go to market. The market consisted of a long row of raspberry bushes
-along the meadow fence.
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: WASHING-DAY AT THE ROCK-HOUSES.]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
- But when to-morrow, down the lane,
- I walk among the flowers again,
- Between the tall red hollyhocks,
- Here I shall find you as before,
- Asleep within your fastened door,—
- My lazy four-o’clocks!
- MARGARET JOHNSON.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- _THE SNOW WITCH._
-
-
-There was skating on the ponds where the snow had been cleared; there
-were icicles on the trees, nice blue, clear skies in the daytime, cold,
-bright, wintry moonlight at night.
-
-Lovely weather for Christmas holidays! But to one little five-year-old
-man, nothing had seemed lovely this Christmas, though he was spending it
-with his Father and Mother and his big sisters at Grandpapa’s beautiful
-old country house, where everybody did all that could be done to make
-Grandpapa’s guests happy. For poor little Roger was pining for his elder
-brother, Lawson, whom he had not seen for more than four months. Lawson
-was eight, and had been at school since Michaelmas, and there he had
-caught a fever which had made it not safe for him to join the rest of
-the family till the middle of January. But he was coming to-morrow.
-
-Why, then, did Roger still look sad and gloomy?
-
-“Stupid little boy!” said Mabel. “I’m sure we’ve tried to amuse him.
-Why, Mamma let him sit up an hour later than usual last night, to hear
-all those funny old fairy tales and legends Uncle Bob was telling.”
-
-“Yes, and weren’t they fun?” answered Pansy. “I did shiver at the witch
-ones, though, didn’t you?”
-
-Poor little Roger! Pansy’s shivering was nothing to his! They had all
-walked home from the vicarage, tempted by the clear, frosty moonlight
-and the hard, dry ground; and trotting along, a little behind the
-others, a strange thing had happened to the boy. Fancy—in the field by
-the Primrose Lane, through the gateway, right in a bright band of
-moonlight, _he had seen a witch_. Just such a witch as Uncle Bob had
-described—with shadowy garments, and outstretched arms, and a
-queer-shaped head, on all of which the icicles were sparkling, just as
-Uncle Bob had said. For it was a winter-witch he had told the story
-about, whose dwelling was up in the frozen northern seas—“the Snow
-Witch” they called her.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Cold as it was, Roger was in a bath of heat, his heart beating wildly,
-his legs shaking, when he overtook his sisters. And the night that
-followed was full of terrible dreams and starts and misery, even though
-nurse and baby were next door, and he could see the night-light through
-the chinks. If it had not been that Lawson was coming—Lawson who never
-laughed at him or called him “stupid little goose,” Lawson who listened
-to all his griefs—Roger could not have borne it. For, strange to say,
-the little fellow told no one of his trouble; he felt as if he could
-_only_ tell Lawson.
-
-No wonder he looked pale and sad and spiritless; there was still another
-dreadful night to get through before Lawson came.
-
-But things sometimes turn out better than our fears. Late that
-afternoon, when nursery tea was over and bedtime not far off, there came
-the sound of wheels and then a joyful hubbub. Lawson had come! Uncle Bob
-had been passing near the school where he was, and had gone a little out
-of his way to pick him up. Every one was delighted—oh, of them all,
-_none_ so thankful as Roger.
-
-“Though I wont tell him to-night,” decided the unselfish little fellow,
-“not to spoil his first night. I sha’n’t mind when I know he’s in his
-cot beside me.” And even when Lawson lovingly asked him if anything was
-the matter, he kept to his resolution.
-
-But he woke in the middle of the night from a terrible dream; Lawson
-woke too, and then—out it all came.
-
-“I thought she was coming in at the window,” Roger ended. “If—if you
-look out—it’s moonlight—I think _p’r’aps_ you’ll see where she stands.
-But no, no! Don’t, _don’t_! She might see you.”
-
-So Lawson agreed to wait till to-morrow.
-
-“I have an idea,” said Lawson. “Roger, darling, go to sleep. _I’m_ here,
-and you can say your prayers again if you like.”
-
-Lawson was up very early next morning. And as soon as breakfast was over
-he told Roger to come out with him. Down the Primrose Lane they went, in
-spite of Roger’s trembling.
-
-“Now, shut your eyes,” said Lawson, when they got to the gate. He opened
-it, and led his brother through.
-
-“Look, now!” he said, with a merry laugh. And what do you think Roger
-saw?
-
-[Illustration]
-
-An old scarecrow, forgotten since last year. There she stood, the “Snow
-Witch,” an apron and ragged shawl, two sticks for arms, a bit of
-Grandpapa’s hat, to crown all—that was the witch!
-
-“Shake hands with her, Roger,” said Lawson. And shake hands they both
-did, till the old scarecrow tumbled to pieces, never more to frighten
-either birds or little boys. “Dear Lawson,” said Roger, lovingly, as he
-held up his little face for a kiss. And happy, indeed, were the rest of
-the Christmas holidays.
-
-May they never love each other less, these two; may they be true
-brothers in manhood as they have been in their childish days!
-
- _L. Molesworth._
-
-
-
-
- _THE THREE BLIND MICE._
- _THE STORY TOLD BY A BROWNIE._
-
-
-Well, first of all, I must tell you that I am a Brownie, and although I
-am ever and ever so old, I look as young to-day as I did when I was but
-one year old. Well, it was about seven hundred years ago, and I used to
-be a great deal with some other Brownies, cousins of mine, visiting at
-the same farm-houses as they did, and helping them with their work. And
-it was in this way that I got to know the Three Blind Mice,—Purrin,
-Furrin, and Tod.
-
-Pretty, pleasant little fellows they were; and they were not blind
-then,—far from it. They lived up in the loft of Dame Marjoram’s room,
-over at Fiveoaks Farm.
-
-Such merry supper-parties as never were, I think, before or since, we
-used to have then. We would think nothing of finishing a round of apple
-and a walnut-shell full of honey between us, in one evening, to say
-nothing of scraps of cheese-rind and the crumbs we stole from the birds.
-Purrin had a most melodious voice, and could sing a good song, while Tod
-was never at a loss for an amusing story. As to Furrin, he was almost as
-quaint as our Mr. Puck, and, though perhaps it is not for _me_ to say
-so, when those in high places do encourage him, not one-tenth as
-mischievous.
-
-When Angelina, the old stable cat, had kittens, he would get into all
-sorts of out-of-the-way places, and imitate their squeaky little voices,
-so that she was always on the fidget, thinking she must have mislaid one
-somewhere, and never able to find it. For you see, as she could not
-count, she never knew whether they were all beside her or no. Often he
-would coax a whole hazel-nut out of Rudge, the Squirrel, who lived on
-the Hanger, just above, and whom every one believed to be a miser. And
-then his Toasting-fork Dance was so sprightly and graceful, it did your
-heart good to see it. Ah, me! those days are gone, and Furrin is gone
-too; and the Moon, when she looks through that chink in the barn roof,
-no longer sees us feasting and making merry on the great beam.
-
-And this is how they became blind:
-
-[Illustration]
-
-They were very fond of Gilliflower, Dame Marjoram’s little daughter, and
-after the nurse had put her to bed, Furrin, Purrin, and Tod used to
-creep up into her room, and read her some of the funny little tales from
-Mouse-land till she went to sleep. She would lie there with her eyes
-shut, and perhaps imagined that it was her own thoughts that made her
-fancy all about the fairy tales that came into her head; but really it
-was the mice who read them to her, but in such a low voice that
-Gilliflower never thought of opening her eyes to see if any one was
-there. I must tell you that the print in Mouse-land is very, very small
-and hard to read. This did not matter so much during the long Summer
-evenings, when there was plenty of light to see to read by; but when the
-Winter came on, and the mice had only the firelight to read by, then
-reading the small print began to tell its tale. You know how bad it is
-for the eyesight to read any print by firelight, and it must be very
-much worse when the print is very small; and so Furrin would say to
-Purrin, “My eyes are getting quite dim, so now you must read;” and
-before Purrin had read a page he would say the same thing to Tod, and
-then Tod would try; but after a time their eyes became so dim they
-couldn’t see at all, and so they had to invent stories to tell little
-Gilliflower; so the poor little mice went quite blind, trying to amuse
-their little girl friend.
-
-I took what care of them I could; but their blindness was very sad for
-them. No longer had Purrin the heart to sing or Furrin to dance and
-jest. Only they would sit close together, each holding one of Tod’s
-hands, and listening to his stories, for he kept his spirits best, and
-did all he could to cheer the others. All the marketing fell to me then,
-and it gave me plenty to do; for, poor souls, the only amusement left
-them was a dainty morsel, now and then.
-
-And, by and by, they became so tired of sitting still, when Tod had
-exhausted all his stock of stories, that they got reckless, and would go
-blundering about the house after Dame Marjoram, whom they knew by the
-rustle of her silken skirt, and the tapping of her high-heeled shoes.
-They all ran after her, forgetting, that although they could not see
-her, still she could see them, and trying to follow her into her
-store-room, where the almonds, and raisins, and sugar, and candied-peel
-were kept.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-[Illustration]
-
-I told them she would get angry, and that harm would come of it; but I
-think their unhappiness and dulness made them quite foolhardy, for they
-still went on, getting under her feet, and well-nigh tripping her up;
-clambering into the lard-pot before her very eyes; in short, doing a
-thousand irritating and injudicious things day by day, until her
-patience was quite worn out. And at last, when they scrambled on to the
-dinner-table, thinking it to be the store-room shelf, and sat all in a
-row, quietly eating out of Miss Gilliflower’s plate, Dame Marjoram, who
-had the carving-knife in her hand, thought it high time for them to have
-a lesson in manners. So, thinking the knife was turned blunt side
-downwards, she rapped them smartly across their three tails. What was
-her horror and their dismay, to find them cut off quite cleanly. The
-little tails lay still on the table, and the three little mice,
-well-nigh crazed with terror and pain, groped their way off the table
-and out of the room.
-
-I was returning from the cheese-room, and met them crossing the great
-hall.
-
-Of course, I took in at a glance all that had occurred, and I must say
-that I felt but little surprise, though much sorrow. I guided them to
-our old haunt in the loft-roof and then sat down to prepare a Memorial
-for Dame Marjoram, giving a full account of all that they had suffered
-for the sake of her family.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-This I placed on the top of the key-basket; and while she was reading
-it, with my usual tact I silently brought in Purrin, Furrin, and Tod,
-and pushed them forward in front of her.
-
-The tears stood in her eyes as she finished reading my scroll, and from
-that time forth nothing was too good for the Three Blind Mice. The good
-wife even tried to make new tails for them.
-
-But they did not live long to enjoy their new happiness. The loss of
-their sight, followed by the shock of having their tails cut off, was
-too much for them. They never quite recovered, but died, all on the same
-day, within the same hour, just a month afterward.
-
-Their three little graves were made beneath the shadows of a lavender
-bush in the garden.
-
-Sometimes I go there to scatter a flower or two, and to shed a tear to
-the memory of Purrin, Furrin, and Tod.
-
- _Helen J. Wood._
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- VI—THE LILACS.
-
-There was a great clump of lilac bushes out by the garden wall. These
-lilacs grew close together and made a thick hedge nearly around a little
-plot of ground, where the grass grew so thick and velvety that it was
-like a great green rug, and they bent their tall heads over this little
-green plot, and so formed a lovely summer-house.
-
-Here we used to sew for our dolls, and here we used to give tea-parties.
-Raspberry shortcake was one of the dainties we used to have. This is the
-way we made it: Take a nice clean raspberry leaf, heap it with
-raspberries, and put another leaf on top. Eat at once.
-
-In this lovely summer-house I used to keep school. I had a row of bricks
-for scholars. Each brick had its own name. Two or three of the bricks
-were nice and red and new. I named those new bricks after my dearest
-little school-friends.
-
-The rest of the bricks were either broken or blackened a little. Those
-bricks were my naughty, idle scholars. I used to stand them up in a row
-to learn their lessons. The first thing I knew those bad bricks would
-all tumble down in a heap. Numbers of little lilac-switches grew about
-my schoolhouse, and I fear I was a severe teacher.
-
-When the lilacs were in bloom, that dear little summer-house was a very
-gay little place. The great, purple plumes would nod in every little
-wind that blew. The air was full of sweetness. Butterflies made the
-trees bright with their slowly-waving wings. There was a drowsy hum of
-many bees. Sometimes we would catch hold of one of the slender trunks of
-the lilac trees, and give it a smart shake. Away would flash a bright
-cloud of butterflies, and a swarm of angry, buzzing bees!
-
-Pleasant Sabbath afternoons, we used to take our Sunday-school books out
-under the lilacs to read. And as we read about good deeds and unselfish
-lives, our own choir of birds would sing sweet hymns. Then we would look
-up and smile, and say, “They have good singing at the lilac church,
-don’t they?”
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: I HAD A ROW OF BRICKS FOR SCHOLARS.]
-
-
-
-
- EIGHT YEARS OLD.
- THE SINGING-LESSON.
-
-
- A slender, liquid note,
- Long-drawn and silver-sweet.
- Obediently the little maid
- Tries, timid still, and half afraid,
- The lesson to repeat.
-
- A breezy turn or two,
- A blithe and bold refrain,
- A ripple up and down the scale,
- And still the learner does not fail
- To echo soft the strain.
-
- A burst of melody
- Wild, rapturous, and long.
- A thousand airy runs and trills
- Like drops from overflowing rills,—
- The vanquished pupil’s song
-
- Breaks into laughter sweet.
- And does her master chide?
- Nay; little Ethel’s music-room
- Is mid the sunny garden’s bloom,
- Her roof the branches wide.
-
- With parted lips she stands
- Among the flowers alone.
- Her teacher—hark! again he sings!
- A stir—a flash of startled wings—
- The little bird has flown!
- MARGARET JOHNSON.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “One,| Two,| Buckle| My Shoe.” By Margaret Johnson]
-
-
- Smile on me, Baby, my sweet,
- As I kneel humbly here at your feet.
- My Prince, with no crown for your head,
- But your own sunny tresses instead.
- And your lips and your eyes gravely sweet,
- Smile down on me here at your feet,
- Little one.
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- VII.—THE SAND-BANK.
-
-That sand-bank in the pasture was one of the nicest of our playhouses.
-There was neither dust nor dirt in it—nothing but clean, fine sand, with
-now and then a pebble. It was not high, so there was no danger of a
-great mass of sand falling down on us two children.
-
-The sand-bank was not very far from the little brook. Myra and I would
-carry pailful after pailful of water from the brook to it, until we had
-moistened a large quantity of sand. Sometimes we would cover our little
-bare feet with the cool, wet sand, packing it just as close as we could.
-Then gently, O, so gently, we would pull our feet out from under the
-sand. The little “five-toed caves” as we used to call them, would show
-just as plain as could be, where our little feet had been! We used to
-catch little toads and put them into those little damp caves, but they
-would soon hop out.
-
-We used to make the nicest pies and cakes and cookies out of that lovely
-wet sand. We used to wish our sand-dainties were fit to eat!
-
-Oftentimes, when we were tired of cooking, we would go to work and lay
-out a wonderful garden with tiny flower-beds and winding paths, out of
-that wet sand. Some of those flower-beds were star-shaped, some were
-round as a wheel, and some were square. We used to gather handfuls of
-wild-flowers and stick them down in, until every tiny bed blossomed into
-pink and blue and white and gold!
-
-We used to make sand-preserves out there. The time and the patience that
-we used up in filling narrow-necked bottles with sand! After a bottle
-was well-filled and shaken down, we would catch up that bottle and run
-down to the brook. We would wash the outside of that bottle until it
-shone like cut-glass, and then we would pack it away in a hollow stump
-that we called our preserve-closet.
-
-We used to play a game that we called “Hop-scotch” out in the old
-sand-bank. In this game, you mark the sand off into rather large
-squares. Then hopping along on one foot, you try with your toe to push a
-pebble from one square into another.
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: THE SAND-BANK GARDEN.]
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- VIII.—THE OLD PASTURE.
-
-I used to play a great deal out in the old pasture. It had a clump of
-cradle-knolls in it. A cradle-knoll is a little mound of moss.
-
-On these mossy little cradle-knolls, checkerberry leaves and berries
-used to grow. How delicious those spicy young checkerberry leaves
-tasted! And we hunted those red plums as a cat hunts a mouse!
-
-The pasture had two or three well-beaten paths in it, that the cows had
-made by their sober steady tramping back and forth from the barnyard
-lane to the growth of little trees and bushes and tender grass at the
-back. At sunset-time, two little barefooted girls would “spat” along
-those cool smooth winding paths after those cows.
-
-As long as we kept in the paths our little feet were all right. But
-sometimes a clump of bright wild-flowers tempted us, and then two sorry
-little girls with thistle-prickles in their feet would come limping
-back. But out where the tender grasses grew there were no thistles, and
-such fun as hide-and-seek used to be among the bushes!
-
-Sometimes we could not find the cows very readily; and then we would
-climb up on a smutty stump and call, “co’ boss! co’ boss!” until the
-woods rang.
-
-In the spring, we would go a-maying out in the old pasture, and O, such
-great handfuls of the sweet mayflower as we used to bring home! Later
-on, we would gather great bunches of sweet-smelling herbs that grew wild
-out there, and carry them home to hang up in the shed-chamber and dry.
-
-If one of my schoolmates had been unkind to me, I would go out into the
-old pasture, and there I would plan out for myself a lovely future
-wherein I should be _very_ rich and _very_ good to the poor. And my
-unkind schoolmate would be one of the humble receivers of my gifts, and
-so it would come about that before I got through building air-castles I
-would actually feel sorry for the poor schoolmate who had ill-used me.
-And then home I would go, singing and skipping!
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: “CO’ BOSS!! CO’ BOSS!”]
-
-
-
-
- Little Mother Hubbard.
-
-
-[Music]
-
- 1. Lit-tle Mo-ther Hub-bard sat
- In the park at play, With her gown and point-ed hat All of so-ber
- gray. And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce be-lieved my eyes;
- And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce believed my eyes.
-
- 2. Pug no long-er frisked a-bout,
- For he felt the loss Of his sup-per and his cake, So was tired and
- cross. And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug;
- And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug.
-
- 3. Mo-ther Hub-bard hur-ried home,
- Say-ing, “Mer-cy me! Pug shall have some frost-ed cake And a cup of
- tea.” But the cake was eat-en up And the nurse had lost his cup;
- But the cake was eat-en up, And the nurse had lost his cup.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: PILLOW·LAND]
-
-
- GOOD-NIGHT.
-
- Suck-a-Thumb,
- Bed-time’s come.
-
- Dressed in white,
- Shut eyes tight.
-
- “Nighty, night!”
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- IX.—THE ELM-TREE.
-
-Out in one of the meadows was a big elm-tree. It was very tall, and in
-summer it looked like a monster bunch of green plumes.
-
-It stood on the bank of our little brook. Right where the old elm stood,
-the bank was quite high, six feet almost. The boughs on the old tree
-grew very low. I would catch hold of one of those low-hanging boughs.
-Then, I would give a little run and jump. Away out over the bank and
-over the brook I would swing!
-
-Oftentimes I would take my patchwork out under the old elm. But soon the
-patchwork would be on the ground, forgotten, and an idle little girl
-would be lying flat on the grass, with her hands clasped under her head,
-looking up into the clear blue sky!
-
-I used to make believe that the white clouds were my ships, coming into
-harbor under full sail. And I used to make up fine names for my ships,
-and O, such splendid cargoes as they would be loaded with, all for
-me—their rich young owner—the idle dreamer in the grass!
-
-O, it was such fun to lie there in the midst of funny daisies with their
-high white collars, and buttercups with their yellow caps! The roguish
-little winds would make them bend over and tickle the rosy face of the
-little girl whom the birds and the brook had almost hushed off to sleep.
-There would be a soft little touch on my forehead, and then another on
-my chin, and yet others on my cheeks. Then I would open my eyes and
-laugh at those funny little white and gold heads, soberly wagging up and
-down. But once I was rather frightened out under the old elm. I had been
-lying flat on my back for an hour or two, when I was called. I half
-raised myself up and answered. My hand was on the ground just where I
-had been lying. I felt something squirming around my thumb. It was a
-tiny brown snake! Of course, it was as harmless as a fly, but didn’t I
-spring to my feet!
-
-When I had to recite a little piece in school or at a church concert, I
-always used to rehearse that little piece out under the old elm, over
-and over again.
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: SWINGING ON THE ELM-TREE BOUGH.]
-
-
-
-
- _Puggie in Disgrace._
-
-
- Child-ren, just look at this queer little Pug,
- His small wrin-kled nose, his little black mug!
- I fear he’s been naugh-ty at les-sons to-day,
- And, like naugh-ty child-ren, he’s pun-ished this way.
-
- He sits on the stool of re-pent-ance, you see;
- Poor Pug-gie is gen-tle and meek as can be;
- But when at his les-sons he just took a nap,
- And that is the rea-son he wears the Fool’s cap.
-
- His neck has an or-na-ment, not like his head,
- But a beau-ti-ful lock-et and rib-bon in-stead;
- So you see that to some one the dog-gie is dear,
- Al-though they all tease him I very much fear.
-
- From Ho-race, the eld-est, to lit-tle Miss May,
- All in-sist that Poor Pug-gie should join in their play;
- Some-times they pet him, and some-times they tease,
- But he bears it all pa-tient-ly, eager to please.
-
- He rolls his big eyes, or just heaves a sigh,
- And thinks they’ll make up for it all by and by.
- For Pug-gie is greed-y, and bears a great deal
- For the sake of some cakes or a good heart-y meal.
-
- But though he _is_ greed-y, his faults are but few,
- He is lov-ing and hon-est, de-vo-ted and true.
- If our two-foot-ed friends were as faith-ful as he
- Ve-ry for-tu-nate peo-ple I think we should be.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
- _TIC-TAC-TOO._
-
-
-Tic-tac-too was a little boy; he was exactly three years old, and the
-youngest in the family; so, of course, he was the king. His real name
-was Alec; but he was always known in the household, and among his wide
-circle of friends generally, as Tic-tac-too. There was a little story to
-account for this, and it is that story which I am now going to tell.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There are very few children who do not know the funny old nursery rhyme
-of “Tic-tac-too;” it is an old-fashioned rhyme, and in great vogue
-amongst nurses. Of course Alec enjoyed it, and liked to have his toes
-pulled, and the queer words said to him. But that is not the story; for
-it is one thing to like a nursery rhyme very much, and another to be
-called by the name of that rhyme, and nothing else.
-
-Now, please, listen to the story.
-
-There was no nicer house to live in than Daisy Farm: it was
-old-fashioned and roomy; there were heaps of small bedrooms with low
-ceilings, and heaps of long passages, and unexpected turnings, and dear
-little cosey corners; and there was a large nursery made out of two or
-three of the small rooms thrown together, and this nursery had casement
-windows, and from the windows the daisies, which gave their name to the
-farm, could be seen. They came up in thousands upon thousands, and no
-power of man and scythe combined could keep them down. The
-mowing-machine only suppressed them for a day or two; up they started
-anew in their snowy dresses, with their modest pink frills and bright
-yellow edges.
-
-Mr. Rogers, who owned Daisy Farm, objected to the flowers; but his
-children delighted in them, and picked them in baskets-full, and made
-daisy-chains to their hearts’ content. There were several children who
-lived in this pleasant farmhouse, for Tic-tac-too had many brothers and
-sisters. The old-fashioned nursery was all that a modern nursery should
-be; it had deep cupboards for toys, and each child had his or her wide
-shelf to keep special treasures on; and the window-ledges were cosey
-places to curl up in on wet days, when the rain beat outside, and the
-wind sighed, and even the daisies looked as if they did not like to be
-washed so much.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Some of the children at Daisy Farm were old enough to have governesses
-and masters, to have a schoolroom for themselves, and, in short, to have
-very little to say to the nursery; but still there were four nursery
-little ones; and one day mother electrified the children by telling them
-that another little boy was coming to pay them a visit.
-
-“He is coming to-morrow,” said mother; “he is a year younger than Alec
-here, but his mother has asked us to take care of him. You must all be
-kind to the little baby stranger, children, and try your very best to
-make him feel at home. Poor little man, I trust he will be happy with
-us.”
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mother sighed as she spoke; and when she did this, Rosie, the eldest
-nursery child, looked up at her quickly. Rosie had dark gray eyes, and a
-very sympathetic face; she was the kind of child who felt everybody’s
-troubles, and nurse said she did this far more than was good for her.
-
-The moment her mother left the room, Rosie ran up to her nurse, and
-spoke eagerly—
-
-“Why did mother sigh when she said a new little boy was coming here,
-nursie?”
-
-“Oh, my love, how can I tell? People sigh most likely from habit, and
-from no reason whatever. There’s nothing to fret anybody in a sigh, Miss
-Rosie.”
-
-“But mother doesn’t sigh from habit,” answered Rosie; “I expect there’s
-going to be something sad about the new little boy, and I wonder what it
-is. Harry, shall we collect some of our very nicest toys to have ready
-for the poor little new boy?”
-
-Harry was six; he had a determined face, and was not so generous as
-Rosie.
-
-“I’ll not give away my skin-horse,” he said, “so you needn’t think it,
-nor my white dog with the joints; there are some broken things down in
-that corner that he can have. But I don’t see why a new baby should have
-my best toys. Gee-up, Alec! you’re a horse, you know, and I’m going to
-race you from one end of the nursery to the other—now trot!”
-
-Fat little curly-headed Alec started off good-humoredly, and Rosie
-surveyed her own shelf to see which toys would most distract the
-attention of the little stranger.
-
-She was standing on a hassock, and counting her treasures over
-carefully, when she was startled by a loud exclamation from nurse.
-
-“Mercy me! If that ain’t the telegraph boy coming up the drive!”
-
-Nurse was old-fashioned enough still to regard telegrams with
-apprehension. She often said she could never look at one of those awful
-yellow envelopes, without her heart jumping into her mouth; and these
-fears she had, to a certain extent, infected the children with.
-
-Harry dropped Alec’s reins, and rushed to the window; Rosie forgot her
-toys, and did likewise; Jack and Alec both pressed for a view from
-behind.
-
-“Me, me, me, me want to see!” screamed baby Alec from the back.
-
-Nurse lifted him into her arms; as she did so, she murmured under her
-breath,—
-
-“God preserve us! I hope that awful boy isn’t bringing us anything bad.”
-
-Rosie heard the words, and felt a sudden sense of chill and anxiety; she
-pressed her little hand into nurse’s, and longed more than ever to give
-all the nicest toys to the new little boy.
-
-Just then the nursery door was opened, and Kate, the housemaid,
-appeared, carrying the yellow envelope daintily between her finger and
-thumb.
-
-“There, nurse,” she said, “it’s for you; and I hope, I’m sure, it’s no
-ill-luck I’m bringing you.”
-
-“Oh, sake’s alive!” said nurse. “Children, dears, let me sit down. That
-awful boy to bring it to me! Well, the will of the Lord must be done;
-whatever’s inside this ugly thing? Miss Rosie, my dear, could you hunt
-round somewhere for my spectacles?”
-
-It always took a long time to find nurse’s spectacles; and Rosie, after
-a frantic search, in which she was joined by all the other nursery
-children, discovered them at last at the bottom of Alec’s cot. She
-rushed with them to the old woman, who put them on her nose, and began
-deliberately to read the contents of her telegram.
-
-The children stood round her as she did so. They were all breathless and
-excited; and Rosie looked absolutely white from anxiety.
-
-“Well, my dears,” said nurse at last, when she had spelt through the
-words, “it ain’t exactly a trouble; far from me to say that; but all the
-same, it’s mighty contrary, and a new child coming here, and all.”
-
-“What is it, nurse?” said Harry. “_Do_ tell us what it’s all about.”
-
-“It’s my daughter, dears,” said nurse; “she’ll be in London to-morrow,
-on her way back to America.”
-
-“Oh, nurse!” said Rosie, “not your daughter Ann?”
-
-[Illustration]
-
-“The same, my love; she that has eight children, and four of them with
-carrotty hair. She wants me to go up to London, to see her to-morrow;
-that’s the news the telegraph boy has brought, Miss Rosie. My daughter
-Ann says, ‘Mother, meet me to-morrow at aunt’s, at two o’clock.’ Well,
-well, it’s mighty contrary; and that new child coming, and all!”
-
-“But you’ll have to go, nurse. It would be dreadful for your daughter
-Ann not to see you again.”
-
-“Yes, dear, that’s all very fine; but what’s to become of all you
-children? How is this blessed baby to get on without his old Nan?”
-
-“Oh, nurse, you _must_ go! It would be so cruel if you didn’t,”
-exclaimed Rosie.
-
-Nurse sat thinking hard for a minute or two; then saying she would go
-and consult her mistress, she left the room.
-
-The upshot of all this was, that at an early hour the following morning
-nurse started for London, and a girl, of the name of Patience, from the
-village, came up to take her place in the nursery.
-
-Mrs. Rogers was particularly busy during these days. She had some
-friends staying with her, and in addition to this her eldest daughter,
-Ethel, was ill, and took up a good deal of her mother’s time; in
-consequence of these things the nursery children were left entirely to
-the tender mercies of Patience.
-
-Not that that mattered much, for they were independent children, and
-always found their own amusements. The first day of nurse’s absence,
-too, was fine, and they spent the greater part of it in the open air;
-but the second day was wet—a hopelessly wet day—a dull day with a
-drizzling fog, and no prospect whatever of clearing up.
-
-The morning’s post brought a letter from nurse to ask for further leave
-of absence; and this, in itself, would have depressed the spirits of the
-nursery children, for they were looking forward to a gay supper with
-her, and a long talk about her daughter Ann, and all her London
-adventures.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-But this was not the real trouble which pressed so heavily on Rosie’s
-motherly heart; the real anxiety which made her little face look so
-careworn was caused by the new baby, the little boy of two years old,
-who had arrived late the night before, and now sat with a shadow on his
-face, absolutely refusing to make friends with any one.
-
-He must have been a petted little boy at home, for he was beautifully
-dressed, and his curly hair was nicely cared for, and his fair face had
-a delicate peach bloom about it; but if he was petted, he was also,
-perhaps, spoilt, for he certainly would not make advances to any of his
-new comrades, nor exert himself to be agreeable, nor to overcome the
-strangeness which was filling his baby mind. Had nurse been at home, she
-would have known how to manage; she would have coaxed smiles from little
-Fred, and taken him up in her arms, and “mothered” him a good bit.
-Babies of two require a great lot of “mothering,” and it is surprising
-what desolation fills their little souls when it is denied them.
-
-Fred cried while Patience was dressing him; he got almost into a passion
-when she washed his face, and he sulked over his breakfast. Patience was
-not at all the sort of girl to manage a child like Fred; she was rough
-in every sense of the word; and when rough petting failed, she tried the
-effect of rough scolding.
-
-“Come, baby, come, you _must_ eat your bread and milk. No nonsense now,
-open your mouth and gobble it down. Come, come, I’ll slap you if you
-don’t.”
-
-But baby Fred, though sorrowful, was not a coward; he pushed the bowl of
-bread and milk away, upset its contents over the clean tablecloth, and
-raised two sorrowful big eyes to the new nurse’s face.
-
-“Naughty dirl, do away,” he said; “Fred don’t ’ove ’oo. Fred won’t eat
-bekfus’.”
-
-[Illustration]
-
-“Oh, Miss Rosie, what a handful he is!” said Patience.
-
-“Let me try him!” said Rosie; “I’ll make him eat something. Come Freddy
-darling, you love Rosie, don’t you?”
-
-“No, I don’t,” said Fred.
-
-“Well, you’ll eat some breakfast; come now.”
-
-“I won’t eat none bekfus’—do away.”
-
-Rosie turned round and looked in a despairing way at her own three
-brothers.
-
-“If only nurse were at home!” she said.
-
-“Master Fred,” said Patience, “if you won’t eat, you must get down from
-the breakfast-table. I have got to clear up, you know.”
-
-She popped the little boy on the floor. He looked round in a bewildered
-fashion.
-
-“Let’s have a very exciting kind of play, and perhaps he’ll join in,”
-said Rosie, in a whisper. “Let’s play at kittens—that’s the loveliest of
-all our games.”
-
-“Kittens” was by no means a quiet pastime. It consisted, indeed, in wild
-romps on all-fours, each child assuming for the time the character of a
-kitten, and jumping after balls of paper, which they caught in their
-mouths.
-
-“It’s the happiest of all our games, and perhaps he’ll like it,” said
-Rosie.
-
-“Patie,” said Alec, going up to the new nurse, “does ’oo know
-_Tic-tac-too_?”
-
-“Of course I do, master Baby—a silly game that.”
-
-“I ’ike it,” said little Alec.
-
-He tripped across the nursery to the younger baby, and sat down by his
-side.
-
-“Take off ’oo shoe,” he said.
-
-Fred was very tired of being cross and miserable. He could not say he
-was too little to Alec, for Alec was scarcely bigger than himself.
-Besides he understood about taking off his shoe. It was a performance he
-particularly liked. He looked at Baby Alec, and obeyed him.
-
-“Take off ’oo other shoe,” said Alec.
-
-Fred did so.
-
-“Pull off ’oo ’tocks,” ordered the eldest baby.
-
-Fred absolutely chuckled as he tugged away at his white socks, and
-revealed his pink toes.
-
-“Now, come to Patie.”
-
-Fred scrambled to his feet, and holding Alec’s hand, trotted down the
-long nursery.
-
-“Patie,” said Alec, “take F’ed on ’our lap, and play _Tic-tac-too_ for
-him?”
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Patience was busy sewing; she raised her eyes. Two smiling little
-baby-boys were standing by her knee. Could this child, whose blue eyes
-were full of sunshine, be the miserable little Fred?
-
-“Well, master Alec,” she said, kissing the older baby, “you’re a perfect
-little darling. Well, I never! to think of you finding out a way to
-please that poor child.”
-
-“Tic-tac-too!” said Fred, in a loud and vigorous voice. He was fast
-getting over his shyness, and Alec’s game suited him to perfection.
-
-But the little stranger did _not_ like the game of kittens. He marched
-in a fat, solid sort of way across the nursery, and sat down in a
-corner, with his back to the company. Here he really looked a most
-dismal little figure. The view of his back was heart-rending; his curly
-head drooped slightly, forlornness was written all over his little
-person.
-
-“What a little muff he is!” said Harry; “I’m glad I didn’t give my skin
-horse to him.”
-
-“Oh, don’t,” said Rosie, “can’t you see he’s unhappy? I must go and
-speak to him. Fred,” she said, going up to the child, “come and play
-with Alec and me.”
-
-[Illustration]
-
-“No,” said Fred, “I’se too little to p’ay.”
-
-“But we’ll have such an easy play, Fred. _Do_ come; I wish you would.”
-
-“I’se too little,” answered Fred, shaking his head again.
-
-At that moment Rosie and her two elder brothers were called out of the
-room to their morning lessons. Rosie’s heart ached as she went away.
-
-“Something must be done,” she said to herself. “That new little boy-baby
-will get quite ill if we can’t think of something to please him soon.”
-
-She did not know that a very unexpected little deliverer was at hand.
-The two babies were now alone in the nursery, and Patience, having
-finished her tidying up, sat down to her sewing.
-
-Patience lifted him on her lap, popped him down with a bounce, kissed
-him, and began,—
-
- “Tic, tac, too,
- The little horse has lost his shoe,
- Here a nail, and there a nail,
- Here a nail, and there a nail,
- Tic, tac, too!”
-
-When the other children returned to the nursery, they heard peals of
-merry baby laughter; and this was the fashion in which a little boy won
-his name.
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- X.—THE PASTURE FENCE.
-
-We used to play a great deal about the pasture fence. It was a high rail
-fence and we used to take a little pole in both hands as a balancing
-pole, and run along on the top. Carefully we balanced ourselves as we
-ran! But finally we would tip first one way and then the other, and
-then, with a little laughing scream, off we’d topple!
-
-Sometimes we would put a board through the fence and have a fine time at
-“seesaw.” Up one of us would go, high in the air, and down would go the
-other with a thud!
-
-We used to play that the pasture fence was a huge cupboard. Each rail
-was a shelf. Many of those rail-shelves were loaded down with bits of
-broken dishes, shining pebbles, bits of green moss that we called
-“pincushions,” and white clam-shells full of strawberries, or
-raspberries, or little dark juicy choke-cherries. The contents of the
-clam-shells were for the birds. If we found a clam-shell lying on the
-ground, we believed with all our little hearts that a little winged
-creature had been fed from our cupboard.
-
-Sometimes we would carry on a thriving millinery store out at the
-pasture fence. We would make queer little bonnets out of birch-bark.
-Then we would sew wildflowers on the bonnets and lay them on the rails
-of the fence for sale. Such a number of those funny little bonnets as
-would be on exhibition on our rail-counters!
-
-One of the big upright posts of our rail fence was hollow a little way
-down. One day we found on the ground a nest full of birdlings; one of
-them was dead, and a little green snake had almost reached the nest. The
-mother-bird was flying about crying pitifully. I snatched the nest away
-and carried it O, so carefully to the pasture fence and put it down in
-the hollow of the fence-post. Then we went a bit away and waited. Pretty
-soon there was a little rush of wings; and soon the mother-bird settled
-down in that hollow post just as cunning as could be. And that dear
-little family staid in that hollow post until the baby-birds grew up and
-flew away.
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-
-
-
- LULU’S FIRST THANKSGIVING.
-
-
-Lulu was six years old last spring. She came to make a visit at her
-grandfather’s, and stayed until after Thanksgiving.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-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’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.
-
-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’s. It did not take them long to get
-acquainted. Before time for dinner they felt as if they had always known
-each other.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-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.
-
-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.
-
-After dinner they played all kinds of games. All the uncles and aunts
-and grown-up cousins played blind-man’s-buff with them.
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- XI.—OUR RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.
-
-We had a number of rainy-day playhouses. When it did not rain very hard,
-Myra and I would scamper out to our little playhouse made of boards, and
-listen to the patter of the drops.
-
-It was not a very costly playhouse. It was built in a corner made by the
-shed and the orchard fence. One side of our playhouse was the shed.
-Another side was the fence; this open side we used to call our
-bay-window. A creeping hop vine twined around the rough fence-boards and
-made a green lace curtain for our bay-window. The third side was made of
-boards. Across this side stretched the wide board seat, which was the
-only furniture of our playhouse. The fourth, or front side of the
-playhouse consisted mostly of a “double-door,” of which we were very
-proud. This double-door was two large green blinds. Did not we feel like
-truly little housekeepers when we fastened those two blinds together
-with a snap!
-
-When the rain came down in gentle showers we used to go out to the
-little playhouse and have a concert. First Myra would step up on to that
-wide board seat and recite a little piece. Then I would step up on to
-the seat and sing a little song. Perhaps while I was singing a robin in
-the orchard would begin to sing, O, so loud and sweet that all the
-orchard just rang with that sweet music! We would stop our concert and
-listen to the robin. When he had finished, we used to clap our little
-hands. And all the time the rain kept up a fairy “tinkle, tinkle,” as if
-some one was keeping time for us on a tiny piano.
-
-Spat-t! Spat-t! would come the little drops through a tiny hole in the
-roof of our little house. We used to hold our faces up towards that
-little leak in the roof. Oftentimes a drop would strike us fairly on the
-tip of our small noses! Then how we would laugh!
-
-Sometimes we would take hold of hands and repeat together, over and over
-again: “Rain, rain, go away, come again, another day!”
-
-And if we said those words long enough, the rain would go away!
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: THE RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.]
-
-
-
-
- “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”
-
-
- XII.—THE WHOLE WHITE WORLD.
-
-In winter we played everywhere! The whole white world was a lovely
-playground! We had no skates, but we wore very thick-soled boots that
-took the place of skates very well. At least we thought so, and that was
-all we needed to make us contented. When the little pond was frozen
-over, we would take a quick run down its snowy banks and then we would
-skim clear across that little pond’s frozen surface just as swift as a
-bird would skim through the air.
-
-Sometimes a thick frost would come in the night-time. The next morning a
-fine blue haze would be in the air and everything would be clothed in
-soft white frost-furs. As the sun rose higher and higher we would watch
-to see the trees and bushes grow warm in the sunshine and throw off
-their furs. Then we would try and catch those soft furs as they fell.
-But if caught they melted quickly away.
-
-If the surface of the snow hardened enough so that we could walk on the
-crust without breaking through, our happiness was complete. High hills
-were all about us, and it seemed to us as if every shining hill would
-say if it could, “Come and slide!”
-
-And O, the happy hours that we have had with our clumsy old sled! Away
-we would go, the wind stinging our faces until crimson roses blossomed
-in our cheeks, and the shining crust snapping and creaking under our
-sled, and the hill flying away behind us!
-
-If a damp clinging snow came, it made lovely snowballs; and it was such
-fun to catch hold of the long clothes-lines and shake them and see
-little clumps of snow hop like rabbits from the line into the air.
-
-And if instead of warmth, and great damp feathery snowflakes, there came
-a bitter wind and an icy sleet that froze as it fell—what then? Never
-mind! Sunrise would set the whole world a-sparkle. Every tree and bush
-would be gay with splendid ice-jewels! And in the great shining ice
-palace, we could run and laugh and shout, watching the ice-jewels loosen
-and fall, all day long.
-
- _Percia V. White._
-
-[Illustration: “AWAY WE WOULD GO!”]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- _GRAN’MA GRACIE._
-
-
-It was Uncle George who called her “Gran’ma” when she was only six, and
-by the time she was seven everybody had taken to the name, and she
-answered to it as a matter of course.
-
-Why did he call her so? Because she was such a prim, staid, serious,
-little old-fashioned body, and consequently her mother laughingly took
-to dressing her in an old-fashioned way, so that at last, whether she
-was out in the grounds, or round by the stables with Grant, in her
-figured pink dress, red sash, long gloves, and sun-bonnet, looking after
-her pets, or indoors of an evening, in her yellow brocade, muslin
-apron—with pockets, of course, and quaint mob cap tied up with its
-ribbon—she always looked serious and grandmotherly.
-
-“It is her nature to,” Uncle George said, quoting from “Let dogs
-delight;” and when he laughed at her, Gran’ma used to look at him
-wonderingly in the most quaint way, and then put her hand in his, and
-ask him to take her for a walk.
-
-Gran’ma lived in a roomy old house with a delightful garden, surrounded
-by a very high red-brick wall that was covered in the spring with white
-blossoms, and in the autumn with peaches with red cheeks that laughed at
-her and imitated hers; purple plums covered with bloom, and other plums
-that looked like drops of gold among the green leaves; and these used to
-get so ripe and juicy in the hot sun, that they would crack and peer out
-at her as if asking to be eaten before they fell down and wasted their
-rich honey juice on the ground. Then there were great lumbering looking
-pears which worried John, the gardener, because they grew so heavy that
-they tore the nails out of the walls, and had to be fastened up
-again—old John giving Gran’ma the shreds to hold while he went up the
-ladder with his hammer, and a nail in his mouth.
-
-That garden was Gran’ma’s world, it was so big; and on fine mornings she
-could be seen seriously wandering about with Dinnywinkle, her little
-sister, up this way, down that, under the apple-trees, along the
-gooseberry and currant alleys, teaching her and Grant that it was not
-proper to go on the beds when there were plenty of paths, and somehow
-Dinnywinkle, who was always bubbling over with fun, did as the serious
-little thing told her in the most obedient of ways, and helped her to
-scold Grant, who was much harder to teach.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-For Grant, whose papa was a setter, and mamma a very lady-like
-retriever, always had ideas in his head that there were wild beasts
-hiding in the big garden, and as soon as his collar was unfastened, and
-he was taken down the grounds for a run, he seemed to run mad. His ears
-went up, his tail began to wave, and he dashed about frantically to hunt
-for those imaginary wild beasts. He barked till he was hoarse sometimes,
-when after a good deal of rushing about he made a discovery, and would
-then look up triumphantly at Gran’ma, and point at his find with his
-nose, till she came up to see what he had discovered. One time it would
-be a snail, at another a dead mouse killed by the cat, and not eaten
-because it was a shrew. Upon one occasion, when the children ran up, it
-was to find the dog half wild as he barked to them to come and see what
-he was holding down under his paw,—this proving to be an unfortunate
-frog which uttered a dismal squeal from time to time till Gran’ma set it
-at liberty, so that it could make long hops into a bed of ivy, where it
-lived happily long afterwards, to sit there on soft wet nights under a
-big leaf like an umbrella, and softly whistle the frog song which ends
-every now and then in a croak.
-
-Grant was always obedient when he was caught, and then he would walk
-steadily along between Gran’ma and Dinny, each holding one of his long
-silky ears, with the prisoner making no effort to escape.
-
-But the job was to catch him; and on these occasions Gran’ma used to run
-and run fast, while Dinny ran in another direction to cut Grant off.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-And a pretty chase he led them, letting them get close up, and then
-giving a joyous bark and leaping sidewise, to dash off in quite a fresh
-direction. Here he would perhaps hide, crouching down under one of the
-shrubs, ready to pounce out on his pursuers, and then dash away again,
-showing his teeth as if he were laughing, and in his frantic delight
-waltzing round and round after his tail. Then away he would bound on to
-the closely shaven lawn, throw himself down, roll over and over, and set
-Dinny laughing and clapping her hands to see him play one of his
-favorite tricks, which was to lay his nose down close to the grass,
-first on one side and then on the other, pushing it along as if it was a
-plough, till he sprang up and stood barking and wagging his tail, as
-much as to say, “What do you think of that for a game?” ending by
-running helter-skelter after a blackbird which flew away, crying
-“Chink—chink—chink.”
-
-That was a famous old wilderness of a place, with great stables and
-out-houses, where there was bright golden straw, and delicious
-sweet-scented hay, and in one place a large bin with a lid, and
-half-full of oats, with which Gran’ma used to fill a little
-cross-handled basket.
-
-“Now, Grant,” she cried, as she shut down the lid, after refusing to let
-Dinny stand in the bin and pour oats over her head and down her
-back—“Now, Grant!”
-
-“Wuph!” said Grant, and he took hold of the basket in his teeth, and
-trotted on with it before her round the corner, to stop before the
-hutches that stood outside in the sun.
-
-Here, if Dinny was what Gran’ma called “a good girl,” she had a treat.
-For this was where the rabbits lived.
-
-Old Brownsmith sent those rabbits, hutch and all, as a present for
-Gran’ma, one day when John went to the market garden with his barrow to
-fetch what he called some “plarnts;” and when he came back with the
-barred hutch, and set the barrow down in the walk, mamma went out with
-Gran’ma and Dinny, to look at them, and Grant came up growling, sniffed
-all round the hutch before giving a long loud bark, which, being put
-into plain English, meant, “Open the door, and I’ll kill all the lot.”
-
-“I don’t know what to say, John,” said mamma, shaking her head. “It is
-very kind of Mr. Brownsmith, but I don’t think your master will like the
-children to keep them, for fear they should be neglected and die.”
-
-“’Gleckted?” said old John, rubbing one ear. “What! little miss here
-’gleck ’em? Not she. You’ll feed them rabbuds reg’lar, miss, wontcher?”
-
-Gran’ma said she would, and the hutch was wheeled round by the stables,
-Grant following and looking very much puzzled, for though he never
-hunted the cats now, rabbits did seem the right things to kill.
-
-But Gran’ma soon taught him better, and he became the best of friends
-with Brown Downie and her two children, Bunny and White Paws.
-
-In fact, one day there was a scene, for Cook rushed into the schoolroom
-during lesson time, out of breath with excitement.
-
-“Please’m, I went down the garden, ’m, to get some parsley, and that
-horrid dog’s hunting the rabbits, and killing ’em.”
-
-There was a cry from both children, and Gran’ma rushed out and round to
-the stables, to find the hutch door unfastened, and the rabbits gone,
-while, as she turned back to the house with the tears running down her
-cheeks, who should come trotting up but Grant, with his ears cocked, and
-Bunny hanging from his jaws as if dead.
-
-Gran’ma uttered a cry; and as Mamma came up with Dinny, the dog set the
-little rabbit down, looked up and barked, and Bunny began loping off to
-nibble the flowers, not a bit the worse, while Grant ran and turned him
-back with his nose, for Gran’ma to catch the little thing up in her
-arms.
-
-Grant barked excitedly, and ran down the garden again, the whole party
-following, and in five minutes he had caught White Paw.
-
-Dinny had the carrying of this truant, and with another bark, Grant
-dashed in among the gooseberry bushes, where there was a great deal of
-rustling, a glimpse of something brown, and then of a white cottony
-tail. Then in spite of poor Grant getting his nose pricked with the
-thorns, Brown Downie was caught and held by her ears till mamma lifted
-her up, and she was carried in triumph back, Grant trotting on before,
-and leading the way to the stable-yard and the hutch, turning round
-every now and then to bark.
-
-The rabbits did not get out again, and every morning and evening they
-were fed as regularly as Gran’ma fed herself.
-
-On reaching the hutch, Grant set the basket down, leaving the handle
-rather wet, though he could easily have wiped it with his ears, and then
-he sat down in a dreamy way, half closing his eyes and possibly thinking
-about wild rabbits on heaths where he could hunt them through furze
-bushes, while Gran’ma in the most serious way possible opened the hutch
-door.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There was no difficulty about catching White Paw, for he was ready
-enough to thrust his nose into his little mistress’s hand, and be lifted
-out by his ears, and held for Dinny to stroke.
-
-“Now let me take him,” she cried.
-
-“No, my dear, you are too young yet,” said Gran’ma; and Dinny had to be
-content with smoothing down White Paw’s soft brown fur, as it nestled up
-against its mistress’s breast, till it was put back kicking, and
-evidently longing to escape from its wooden-barred prison, even if it
-was to be hunted by Grant.
-
-Then Bunny had his turn, and was duly lifted out and smoothed; after
-which, Brown Downie, who was too heavy to lift, gave the floor of the
-hutch a sharp rap with one foot, making Grant lift his ear and utter a
-deep sigh.
-
-“No,” he must have thought; “it’s very tempting, but I must not seize
-her by the back and give her a shake.”
-
-Then the trough was filled with oats, the door fastened, and the girls
-looked on as three noses were twitched and screwed about, and a low
-munching sound arose.
-
-Three rabbits and a dog! Enough pets for any girl, my reader; but
-Gran’ma had another—Buzz, a round, soft-furred kitten with about as much
-fun in it as could be squeezed into so small a body. But Buzz had a
-temper, possibly soured by jealousy of Grant, whom he utterly detested.
-
-Buzz’s idea of life was to be always chasing something,—his tail, a
-shadow, the corner of the table-cover, or his mistress’s dress. He liked
-to climb, too, on to tables, up the legs, into the coal-scuttle, behind
-the sideboard, and above all, up the curtains, so as to turn the
-looped-up part into a hammock, and sleep there for hours. Anywhere
-forbidden to a respectable kitten was Buzz’s favorite spot, and
-especially inside the fender, where the blue tiles at the back reflected
-the warmth of the fire, and the brown tiles of the hearth were so bright
-that he could see other kittens in them, and play with them, dabbing at
-them with his velvet paw.
-
-Buzz had been dragged out from that forbidden ground by his hind leg,
-and by the loose skin at the back of his neck, and he had been punished
-again and again, but still he would go, and strange to say, he took a
-fancy to rub himself up against the upright brass dogs from the tip of
-his nose to the end of his tail, and then repeat it on the other side.
-
-But Gran’ma’s pet did not trespass without suffering for it. Both his
-whiskers were singed off close, and there was a brown, rough,
-ill-smelling bit at the end of his tail where, in turning round, he had
-swept it amongst the glowing cinders, giving him so much pain that he
-uttered a loud “Mee-yow!” and bounded out of the room, looking up at
-Gran’ma the while as if he believed that she had served him like that.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-In Gran’ma’s very small old-fashioned way, one of her regular duties was
-to get papa’s blue cloth fur-lined slippers, and put them against the
-fender to warm every night, ready for him when he came back tired from
-London; and no sooner were those slippers set down to toast, than Buzz,
-who had been watching attentively, went softly from his cushion where he
-had been pretending to be asleep, but watching all the time with one
-eye, and carefully packed himself in a slipper, thrusting his nose well
-down, drawing his legs right under him, and snoozling up so compactly
-that he exactly fitted it, and seemed part of a fur cushion made in the
-shape of a shoe.
-
-But Buzz was not allowed to enjoy himself in that fashion for long. No
-sooner did Gran’ma catch sight of what he had done than she got up, went
-to the fireplace, gravely lifted the slipper, and poured Buzz out on to
-the hearth-rug, replaced the slipper where it would warm, and went back,
-to find, five minutes later, that the kitten had fitted himself into the
-other slipper, with only his back visible, ready to be poured out again.
-Then, in a half-sulky, cattish way, Buzz would go and seat himself on
-his square cushion, and watch, while, to guard them from any more such
-intrusions, Gran’ma picked up the slippers and held them to her breast
-until such time as her father came home.
-
-Those were joyous times at the old house, till one day there was a
-report spread in the village that little Gran’ma was ill. The doctor’s
-carriage was seen every day at the gate, and then twice a day, and there
-were sorrow and despair where all had been so happy. Dinny went alone
-with Grant to feed the rabbits; and there were no more joyous rushes
-round the garden, for the dog would lie down on the doorstep with his
-head between his paws, and watch there all day, and listen for the quiet
-little footstep that never came. Every day old John, the gardener,
-brought up a bunch of flowers for the little child lying fevered and
-weak, with nothing that would cool her burning head, and three anxious
-faces were constantly gazing for the change that they prayed might come.
-
-For the place seemed no longer the same without those pattering feet.
-Cook had been found crying in a chair in the kitchen; and when asked
-why, she said it was because Grant had howled in the night, and she knew
-now that dear little Gran’ma would never be seen walking so sedately
-round the garden again.
-
-It was of no use to tell her that Grant had howled because he was
-miserable at not seeing his little mistress: she said she knew better.
-
-“Don’t tell me,” she cried; “look at him.” And she pointed to where the
-dog had just gone down to the gate, for a carriage had stopped, and the
-dog, after meeting the doctor, walked up behind him to the house, waited
-till he came out, and then walked down behind him to the gate, saw him
-go, and came back to lie down in his old place on the step, with his
-head between his paws.
-
-They said that they could not get Grant to eat, and it was quite true,
-for the little hands which fed him were not there; and the house was
-very mournful and still, even Dinny having ceased to shout and laugh,
-for they told her she must be very quiet, because Gran’ma was so ill.
-
-From that hour Dinny went about the place like a mouse, and her favorite
-place was on the step by Grant, who, after a time, took to laying his
-head in her lap, and gazing up at her with his great brown eyes.
-
-And they said that Gran’ma knew no one now, but lay talking quickly
-about losing the rabbits and about Dinny and Grant; and then there came
-a day when she said nothing, but lay very still as if asleep.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-That night as the doctor was going, he said softly that he could do no
-more, but that those who loved the little quiet child must pray to God
-to spare her to them; and that night, too, while tears were falling
-fast, and there seemed to be no hope, Grant, in his loneliness and
-misery, did utter a long, low, mournful howl.
-
-But next morning, after a weary night, those who watched saw the bright
-glow of returning day lighting up the eastern sky, and the sun had not
-long risen before Gran’ma woke as if from a long sleep, looked up in her
-mother’s eyes as if she knew her once more, and the great time of peril
-was at an end.
-
-All through the worst no hands but her mother’s had touched her; but now
-a nurse was brought in to help—a quiet, motherly, North-country woman
-who one day stood at the door, and held up her hands in astonishment,
-for she had been busy down-stairs for an hour, and now that she had
-returned there was a great reception on the bed: Buzz was seated on the
-pillow purring; the rabbits all three were playing at the bed being a
-warren, and loping in and out from the valance; Grant was seated on a
-chair with his head close up to his mistress’s breast; and Dinny was
-reading aloud from a picture storybook like this, but the book was
-upside down, and she invented all she said.
-
-“Bless the bairn! what does this mean?” cried nurse.
-
-It meant that Dinny had brought up all Gran’ma’s friends, and that the
-poor child was rapidly getting well.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- The Sunshine Corner
-
-
-Miss Myrtle read to the children this afternoon an Account sent by her
-married cousin, Mrs. Pingry. Mrs. Pingry wrote: “I spell it with a big
-A, just for fun, because it is of so small a matter, but it was a
-sunshiny matter for it caused some smiling, and it brought out real
-kindness from several persons.
-
-“Mr. Pingry goes in on the 8.17 train and attends to his furnace the
-last thing, allowing twelve minutes to reach the station. When about
-half-way there, yesterday, it occurred to him that he forgot to shut the
-drafts. Just then he met Jerry Snow, the man at the Binney place, and
-asked him to please call round our way, and ask for Mrs. Pingry, and say
-Mr. Pingry had left the drafts open. Jerry said he would after going to
-the post-office, but Mr. Pingry, fearing Jerry might forget, called
-hastily at the door of Madam Morey, an elderly woman who does plain
-sewing, and said he forgot to shut the furnace drafts; if she should see
-a boy passing would she ask him to call at our door, and ask for Mrs.
-Pingry, and tell her? Madam said she would be on the lookout for a boy,
-while doing her baking.
-
-“Now as Mr. Pingry was hurrying on, it came to him that he had not yet
-made a sure thing of it, and at that moment he saw the woman who does
-chore-work at the Binney’s, coming by a path across the field. He met
-her at the fence, and asked if she would go around by our house and say
-to Mrs. Pingry that Mr. Pingry had left the drafts all open. She agreed,
-and Mr. Pingry ran to his train, a happy man.
-
-“Now Madam Morey felt anxious about the furnace, and stepped often to
-the window, and at last spied a small boy with a sled, and finding he
-knew where we live, told him Mr. Pingry went away and forgot to shut the
-furnace drafts and wished to send back word, and would the boy coast
-down that way and tell Mrs. Pingry? The boy promised, and coasted down
-the hill.
-
-“Madam Morey still felt uneasy about the furnace, and not being sure the
-boy would do the errand kept on the watch for another; and when the
-banana-man stopped and made signs at her window ‘would she buy?’ she
-wrote a few words on a bit of brown paper and went with him far enough
-to point out the house and made signs, ‘would he leave the paper there?’
-He made signs ‘yes?’ and passed on.
-
-“Now at about half-past eight, our front doorbell rang and I heard a
-call for me. I hurried down, and received the chore-woman’s message and
-acted upon it at once.
-
-“Sometime afterwards, as I was in the back-chamber, I heard voices
-outside and saw six or eight small boys trying to pull their sleds over
-a fence, and wondered how they happened to be coasting in such a place.
-Presently I heard a commotion on the other side and went to the front
-windows. All the sleds were drawn up near the steps, and the small boys
-were stamping around like an army come to take the house. Seeing me they
-all shouted something at me. They seemed so terribly in earnest, and
-came in such a strange way, that I flew down, sure something dreadful
-had happened—perhaps Willy was drowned! and I began to tremble. At sight
-of me at the door they all shouted again, but I did not understand. I
-caught hold of the biggest boy and pulled him inside, and said to him,
-in a low, tremulous voice, ‘Tell me! What is it?’ He answered, in a
-bashful way, ‘Mr. Pingry said he left the drafts open.’ ‘Thank you all!’
-I said.
-
-“Next, the banana-man, bobbing his head, and making signs, though I
-shook my head ‘no.’ Finally up came Bridget with a slip of brown paper
-having written on it, but no name signed: ‘Your furnace drafts are
-open.’ Such a shout as went up from us!
-
-“Grand company coming, I guess! exclaimed my sister, a short time
-afterwards. Sure enough there stood a carriage and span. Jerry Snow, it
-seems, forgot our furnace until he went to look at his own. He was then
-just about to take Mrs. Binney out for an airing. He mentioned it to her
-and she had him drive round with the message.
-
-“By this time we were ready to go off, explode, shout, giggle, at the
-approach of any one; and when Madam Morey stepped up on our piazza we
-bent ourselves double with laughter, and my sister went down upon the
-floor all in a heap, saying, ‘Do—you—suppose—she—comes—for that?’
-
-“Even so. She had worried, thinking the hot pipes might heat the
-woodwork, and half-expected to hear the cry of ‘fire!’ and bells
-ringing, and could not sit still in her chair, and in the goodness of
-her heart she left her work and came all the way over!
-
-“Oh! we had fun with Mr. Pingry that evening. But now, my dear Miss
-Myrtle, the funniest part of all was that Mr. Pingry did not forget to
-shut the drafts!”
-
- _Miss Fillissy-Follissy._
-
-
-
-
- A SLUMBER SONG.
-
-
-[Music]
-
- 1. Sleep, oh sleep, my lambs a-wea-ry! Shin-ing sun-beams all are o’er;
- ’Tis the time when lit-tle children Sail a-way to slum-ber shore.
-
- 2. Glid-ing, glid-ing to the mu-sic Of a ten-der, tender lulla-by
- Gent-ly drift the lads and lass-es When the stars come out on high.
-
- 3. Soft-ly to the swaying grass-es Fall the gracious drops of dew;
- Yet more soft-ly at the gloaming Close the bairn-ies’ eyes of blue.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- THE GROCER’S BOY.
-
-
-Sammy Swattles wasn’t a bad boy, you understand; he was simply
-thoughtless. He thoughtlessly did things which robbed him of peace of
-mind for some time after he did them.
-
-When Sammy was ten years old he had to leave school, to go to work for
-Mr. Greens, the grocer, in order to help support his mother.
-
-He did a great many things for the grocer, from seven o’clock in the
-morning till six at night, but his principal work was to place large
-paper bags on the scales and fill them with flour from the barrel.
-
-When the bag weighed twenty-three pounds, Sammy had to seal it up and
-take it to the family it was ordered for. The grocer allowed him two
-cents for every bag he carried, over and above his wages, which were
-$2.50 per week. Some weeks Sammy made over $3.00 which helped his mother
-to run their little house quite comfortably.
-
-Now, Sammy, in his thoughtlessness, used to sample quite a good deal of
-the grocer’s preserved ginger. Every time he would pass the tin boxes of
-ginger, he would thoughtlessly take a piece, and it would disappear in
-the recesses of Sammy’s rosy mouth.
-
-One night, after he had locked up all but the front door of the store,
-he helped himself to quite a large piece of the ginger, and walked home.
-
-He did not care for any supper that night. He felt as if bed was the
-best place for his troubled little stomach.
-
-He hadn’t been in bed two minutes when a little fierce man, with a white
-cloth round his black body and a huge grin on his ebony face, bounded
-into his room.
-
-With a scream Sammy leaped out of bed and bounded out of the window.
-With a yell the Indian was after him. Sammy flew down the road like a
-runaway colt, the black man in his rear yelling like thunder and lions.
-Sammy never ran so fast in his life, but the little black man gained on
-him, and finally caught him!
-
-Sammy pleaded hard to be spared to his mother, but the little man grimly
-took him by the collar, and with one leap landed him on the island of
-Ceylon, in the Indian Ocean, at a place called Kandy. Then he led Sammy
-out into the country, and blew a whistle. In an instant they were
-surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of men, women and boys, all as black
-as Sammy’s captor. Sammy cried:
-
-“What have I done! what have I done!” and they all cried:
-
-“You have taken the ginger that we have gathered by hard work, without
-permission, and you are condemned to live here for the rest of your life
-on ginger alone!”
-
-Then Sammy began to cry real hard, for he thought of his poor mother,
-off there in Massachusetts, wondering day after day, “What has become of
-my Sammy!”
-
-And then to be compelled to eat nothing but ginger all his life! It was
-awful! He already hated ginger. He looked so woebegone that they all
-cried:
-
-“If you will promise to be good, and think before you do things, we will
-let you go! But if you don’t keep your promise we’ll get you again, and
-then, look out!”
-
-So Sammy promised, and ran for home. But the black people seemed to
-regret having let him off so easily, and they all came trooping after
-him!
-
-You should have seen Sammy run! He went over through India, and across
-Afghanistan, Persia and Turkey like a streak of lightning! He plunged
-into the Mediterranean and swam across to Italy. From Italy he swam to
-Spain; and across Spain, from Tarragona to Cape Finisterre, he ran like
-the Rapids of the River St. Lawrence, the black people at his heels!
-
-He was almost exhausted as he dove off Cape Finisterre into the broad
-Atlantic, and he would have sunk down deep, for fifteen or twenty miles,
-if a friendly dolphin hadn’t come along and invited him to ride on its
-shiny back!
-
-The black men gave up the chase then, and the dolphin swam over to
-Massachusetts Bay, up Boston Harbor, to the Charles River, to the bridge
-by Sammy’s home. There the dolphin said good-by, told Sammy to always be
-a good boy, and then, with a flip of its tail, it rushed down the
-river—and Sammy awoke!
-
-It had all been a dream, of course; but it cured Sammy of
-thoughtlesness, and nobody ever had cause again to say that Sammy
-Swattles wasn’t all a nice little boy should be. He told his employer
-all about it, and his employer said: “Well, be a good boy, and never do
-anything without thinking of whether it’s right or wrong to do it.”
-
- _John Ernest McCann._
-
-
-
-
- AN ABSENT-MINDED MAN.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-[Illustration]
-
- He lit a candle for young Ted.
- This absent minded man.
- —Twas time to send the boy to bed—
- But something else came in his head,
- Some problem or some plan.
-
- ◼
-
- His thoughts were miles and miles away,
- But still the taper there,
- While he was thinking, seemed to say,
- “Bed! Bed! I’ll burn out if I stay!”
- And scolded with its glare.
-
- ●
-
- And so he took Ted’s candle light
- —Ted grinned, the little elf—
- And bade, with manner most polite,
- His son a very sweet good-night,
- And went to bed himself.
-
- ◻
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: Good King Grin. KING GRIN PRINCE LAUGH]
-
- Good King Grin.
-
-
-[Illustration: THE JESTER.]
-
- There is a King in Nonsense Land
- Whose castle, neither tall nor grand,
- Is gaily perched upon a hill
- Behind the town of Jolliville.
- A spangled jester lets you in—
- Whoever calls on good King Grin.
-
-[Illustration: “QUITE BALD.”]
-
- His height in feet is only four;
- Around his waist is one foot more;
- His mouth is wide; his eyes are twinkles
- Half hidden in a net of wrinkles;
- His beard is red; his hair is thin—
- In fact, quite bald is good King Grin.
-
-[Illustration: PRINCESS GIGGLE.]
-
- His family—beneath the sun
- You never saw a happier one:
- The good Queen Smile, so fair to see;
- Prince Laugh, the heir-apparent he;
- And Princess Giggle’s baby din—
- Is life and joy to good King Grin.
-
- Three ministers of state has he:
- Prime Minister is Pleasantry;
- In Foreign Matters, great and small,
- Good-Nature ministers to all;
- And Cheerfulness, when bills come in,
- Is Treasurer to good King Grin.
-
-[Illustration: Ministers of State]
-
- His courser is a palfry stout,
- And when the good king rides about,
- The very babies crow for joy:
- From peasant-man and peasant-boy,
- From landed knight and all his kin,
- Arise one cry: “Long live King Grin.”
-
-[Illustration: _Ralph Bergengren._]
-
-
-
-
- _A Funny Twin Brother_
-
-
-Last sum-mer when we were in the coun-try hav-ing a hap-py ho-li-day, we
-of-ten went in-to the hay-field, and you lit-tle ones may fan-cy the fun
-we had. John-ny and Lil-ly rolled in the sweet fresh hay, and were
-bu-ried and came up a-gain ma-ny and ma-ny a time; and just when we
-thought there was not a bit of chub-by child to be seen, a round red
-laugh-ing face would peep out, fol-lowed by a sort of wind-mill of arms
-and legs.
-
-It was on a bright sum-mer’s day in that hay-field that we met Tim and
-his lit-tle mis-tress. “Who was Tim?” you say. Well, Tim was a don-key,
-and such a hap-py pet-ted don-key has sel-dom been seen be-fore.
-Liz-zy—the lit-tle girl you see in the pic-ture—was the far-mer’s
-daugh-ter, and as she led Tim round her fa-ther’s field, she picked up
-the sweet hay and fed him with it.
-
-When Tim and lit-tle Liz-zy came near us, we all went up to pat the
-don-key: then the lit-tle girl told us how good and gen-tle her Tim was.
-“We are very luc-ky to have such a good don-key,” said she.
-
-“And I think he is luc-ky to have such a good lit-tle mis-tress,” said
-I.
-
-“Oh, but he be-longs to us all,” an-swered the child, “and there are six
-of us; we all feed and pet him. My father bought him when he was quite
-lit-tle. He is five years old now; just the same age as my lit-tle
-bro-ther Willy. So he is his Twin Bro-ther you see,” ad-ded Liz-zy
-grave-ly.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- SAM ON THE KITCHEN FUNNEL BLEW,
- THE DINNER-BELL JANE RANG;
- THE BELLOWS MADE A NICE GUITAR,
- MIN PLAYED WHILE ALICE SANG.
-
- TOM CAME TO HEAR US, TABBY TOO,
- WHO BROUGHT HER KITTENS THREE;
- AND ALSO FLORA WITH HER PUP;
- WE LET THEM ALL IN—FREE!
-
-[Illustration: _S Birch_]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
- TO
- WEE PEOPLE
- WHO MAKE HOME
- HAPPY WITH ARTLESS
- PRATTLE AND MERRY
- PLAY, THIS BOOK IS
- LOVINGLY
- DEDICATED.
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
-
-
- 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
- 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.
- 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
-
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Little Tot’s Own Book, by Anonymous + +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 +www.gutenberg.org. 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. + +Title: Our Little Tot’s Own Book + of Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and + Jingles + +Author: Anonymous + +Release Date: May 17, 2021 [eBook #65368] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Richard Tonsing, Juliet Sutherland, and the Online + Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK *** + +[Illustration] + + “WHAT DO THEY SAY IN BABY-LAND?” + “WHY, THE ODDEST THINGS; + MIGHT AS WELL + TRY TO TELL + WHAT A BIRDIE SINGS!” + +[Illustration] + + BABY-LAND. + + “HOW MANY MILES TO BABY-LAND?” + “ANY ONE CAN TELL; + UP ONE FLIGHT, + TO YOUR RIGHT: + PLEASE TO RING THE BELL.” + + “WHAT DO THEY DO IN BABY-LAND?” + “DREAM AND WAKE AND PLAY; + LAUGH AND CROW, + SHOUT AND GROW: + HAPPY TIMES HAVE THEY!” + +[Illustration] + + + + + OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK + OF + _Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and Jingles_. + + + NEW YORK: + HURST & COMPANY, + PUBLISHERS. + + + + + Copyright, 1912 + —BY— + HURST & COMPANY + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + +_There was once a very happy little girl who spent her childhood on an +old green farm. She had a little sister, and these two children never +knew what it was to possess toys from the stores, but played, played, +played from dawn till dark, just in the play-places they found on that +green farmstead. I so often have to tell my children “how mama used to +play”—for I was that very happy little girl—that I think other “little +women” of these days will enjoy knowing about those dear old simple +play-times._ + + + I.—THE LITTLE STUMP-HOUSE. + +One of my pet playhouses was an old stump, out in the pasture. Such a +dear, old stump as it was, and so large I could not put my arms more +than half way round it! + +Some of its roots were partly bare of earth for quite a little distance +from the stump, and between these roots were great green velvety moss +cushions. + +On the side, above the largest moss cushion, was a little shelf where a +bit of the stump had fallen away. On this little shelf I used to place a +little old brass candlestick. I used to play that that part of the stump +was my parlor. + +Above the next moss cushion were a number of shelves where I laid pieces +of dark-blue broken china I had found and washed clean in the brook. +That was my dining-room. + +There were two or three little bedrooms where the puffy moss beds were +as soft as down. My rag dolly had many a nap on those little green beds, +all warmly covered up with big sweet-smelling ferns. + +Then there was the kitchen! Hardly any moss grew there. I brought little +white pebbles from the brook, and made a pretty, white floor. Into the +side of the stump above this shining floor, I drove a large nail. On +this nail hung the little tin pan and iron spoon with which I used to +mix up my mud pies. + +My sister had a stump much like mine, and such fine times as the owners +of those two little stump-houses used to have together, only little +children know anything about. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: THE STUMP PLAY-HOUSE.] + + + + +[Illustration] + + THE STOLEN LITTLE ONE. + A TRUE STORY. + + +[Illustration] + +Two little girls went shopping with their mamma. While she was at the +end of the store, Julie, the youngest, ran to the door. Her mother was +too busy to notice her, but Julie’s sister Mattie was watching her. She +saw a tall woman pass the door, and snatch up little Julie. Without a +word to her mother, Mattie ran after them. + +Away they went down the street. The woman would soon have outrun Mattie, +but her screams attracted the attention of a policeman. He followed too. +They came up with the woman as she was darting into a cellar. Mattie +told the policeman that the bad woman had stolen her sister Julie. He +soon took both children home. Their mother was overjoyed to see them, +and praised Mattie for being such a brave little girl. She never let +Julie go out of her sight again, when she took her out on the street. + + PINK HUNTER. + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + II.-THE OLD APPLE-TREE. + +There was an old apple-tree in the orchard that was the oldest tree in +the town. It overtopped the house, and the trunk was very big and brown +and rough; but O, the millions of fine green leaves, as soft and smooth +as silk, that it held up in the summer air! + +In the spring it was gay with pink and white blossoms, and then for days +the tree would be all alive with the great, black-belted bees. A little +later those sweet blossoms would fall off in a rosy rain, and Myra and I +would stand under the old apple-tree and try to catch the little, +fluttering things in our apron! And then, later still, came little +apples, very sour at first, but slowly sweetening until it seemed to me +that those juicy, golden-green apples tasted the best of any fruit in +all the world! My apron-pockets were always bursting with them! + +There was a famous horse up in the old tree. It could only be reached by +means of a ladder placed against the old tree’s stout trunk! A strange +horse, you would call him, but O, the famous rides that I have had on +that horse’s broad, brown back! The name of the horse was “General.” + +Up among the leaves where the sunshine played hide-and-seek was one dear +bough that was just broad enough and just crooked enough to form a nice +seat. Another bough bent round just in the very place to form a most +comfortable back to that seat. A pair of stirrups made of rope, some +rope reins tied to the trunk of the tree, and there was my horse, “all +saddled and all bridled!” + +I put my feet into the stirrups, shake my bridle-reins and cry, “Get up, +General!” + +The bough would sway a little, and I and the birds would be off +together, swinging and singing, up in a fair green world where there was +no one to disturb nest or little rider! The birds would sing to me, and +I would sing to them, and which of those little singers was the +happiest, I do not know! + +But I do know that my little heart was full of glee and joy to the brim! + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: RIDING “GENERAL.”] + + + + +[Illustration] + + SHE WISHED TO BE A PRINCESS. + _A True Story._ + + +Little Mary had had a volume of Hans Andersen’s Fairy Stories given her +at Christmas. The story she liked best was “The Princess and the Pea,” +for, like all little girls, little Mary had a natural desire to be a +Princess. + +When she went to bed at night with her doll little Mary would think to +herself, “Oh, how beautiful to be a real princess of such very fine +blood as to feel a little bit of a pea under twenty mattresses!” + +One morning a comforting idea came to little Mary. “Who knows,” she said +to herself, “with all my very many great grandfathers and grandmothers, +but p’raps I am related to some King or Queen way back?” + +Thereupon, she went to her mother’s pantry and took a bean from the +jar—as large a one as she could find—and, going to her room, put it +carefully under the hair mattress. That night she went to bed happy, +with joyful hopes. + +In the morning little Mary’s elder sister found her with her head buried +in her pillow crying. “Oh,” little Mary sobbed, “I did think I might +have just a little speck of royal blood in my veins, but I couldn’t feel +even that big bean under just one mattress!” + +Nothing would comfort little Mary until her mama explained to her that +even princesses were not happy unless they had good hearts; and _she_ +could have, if she tried, just as good and royal a heart as any Princess +under the sun. + + _Anne Fiske Davenport._ + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + III.—THE LITTLE POND. + +Out in the pasture, was a little pond. This little pond was quite deep +in the time of the spring and autumn rains. At such seasons Myra and I +would take our little raft made of boards, and by means of some stout +sticks would push the raft around on that little pond for hours. The +wind would raise little waves, and these waves would splash up against +the sides of our little raft with a delicious sort of noise. + +We used to dress a smooth stick of wood in doll’s clothes. We used to +call this wooden dolly by the name of Mrs. Pippy. We would take Mrs. +Pippy on board our ship as passenger. Somehow, Mrs. Pippy always +contrived to fall overboard. And then, such screaming, such frantic +pushing of that raft as there would he, before that calmly-floating Mrs. +Pippy was rescued! + +Just beyond the further edge of the pond was a little swampy place where +great clumps of sweet-flag used to grow. Sweet-flag is a water-plant +whose leaves are very long and slender and their stem-ends, where they +wrap about each other, are good to eat. In summer this little sweet-flag +swamp was perfectly dry. But when the rains had come and the little pond +was full, this little sweet-flag swamp was covered with water. + +Right between the pond and the swamp lay a big timber, stretching away +like a narrow bridge, with the pond-water lapping it on one side and the +swamp-water lapping it on the other. Such exciting times as we used to +have running across that little bridge after sweet-flag! + +“Run! run!” we would cry to each other; and then, away we would go, +running like the wind, yet very carefully, for the least misstep was +sure to plump us into the water! + +When the water in the swamp had nearly dried up, a bed of the very +nicest kind of mud was left. Taking off our shoes and stockings, we +would dance in that sticky mud until we were tired. Then we would hop +over the timber and wash our small toes clean in the pond. + + _Percia V. White._ + + + + + _Clever Tommy._ + + +[Illustration] + +“You like clever cats, Arthur,” said Laura; “and I am sure this is one. +See how funnily he is drinking the milk with his paw. Did you know this +cat, mamma?” + +“Yes, my dear, I was staying at the house when his mistress found him +out. We used to wonder sometimes why there was so little milk for tea, +and my friend would say ‘They must drink it in the kitchen, for the neck +of the milk jug is so narrow, Tom could not get his great head in.’ + +“But Tom was too clever to be troubled at the narrow neck of the milk or +cream jug, and one day when his mistress was coming towards the parlor +through the garden, she saw Tom on the table from the window, dipping +his paw into the jug like a spoon and carrying the milk to his mouth. +Did he not jump down quickly, and hide himself when she walked in, for +he well knew he was doing wrong.” + +“And was he punished, mamma?” + +“No, Laura, although his mistress scolded him well, and Tom quite +understood, for cats who are kindly treated are afraid of angry words.” + +“Did you ever see Tom drink the milk in this way?” + +“Yes, for his mistress was proud of his cleverness, and she would place +the jug on the floor for him. When she did that, Tom knew he might drink +it, and he would take up the milk in his paw so cleverly that it was +soon gone.” + + + + +[Illustration] + + FLOWERS. + + + How stilly, yet how sweetly, + The little while they bloom, + They teach us quiet trustfulness, + Allure our hearts from selfishness, + And smile away our gloom: + So do they prove that heavenly love + Doth every path illume! + + How stilly, yet how sadly, + When summer fleeteth by, + And their sweet work of life is done, + They fall and wither, one by one, + And undistinguish’d lie: + So warning all that Pride must fall, + And fairest forms must die! + + How stilly, yet how surely, + They all will come again, + In life and glory multiplied, + To bless the ground wherein they died, + And long have darkly lain:— + So we may know, e’en here below, + Death has no lasting reign! + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + IV.—THE LITTLE BROOK. + +We had a merry playmate in a little brook that ran down through the +sunny meadows! It slipped and slid over little mossy pebbles and called +to us, “Follow, follow, follow!” in the sweetest little voice in the +world! + +Sometimes, I would kneel down on the little low bank, and bend my head +down close, and ask, “Where are you going, little brook?” + +It would splash a cool drop of spray in my face, and run on calling, +“Follow, follow, follow!” just as before. + +Wild strawberries grew red and sweet down in the tall grass, and great +purple violets, and tall buttercups nid-nodding in the wind. + +Very often Myra and I would take off our shoes and stockings, and wade. +The roguish little brook would tickle my small toes, and try and trip me +up on one of its little mossy stones. Once I did slip and sat right down +in the water with a great splash! And the little brook took all the +starch out of my clothes, and ran off with it in a twinkling. + +Now and then, I would fasten a bent pin to a string and tie the string +to the end of a stick and fish for the tiny minnows and tadpoles. But, +somehow, I never caught one of the little darting things. I used to +believe the brook whispered them to keep away from that little shining +hook. + +Sometimes, I would take a big white chip and load it with pebbles or +violets and send it down stream. The sly little brook would slip my boat +over one of its tiny waterfalls just as quick as it could! If my little +boat was loaded with pebbles, down would go my heavy cargo to the +bottom! But if it were loaded with violets, then a fleet of fairy purple +canoes would float on and on, and away out of sight. + +A great green frog with big, staring eyes watched from the side of the +brook. Now and then, he would say, “Ker-chug!” in a deep voice. I used +to ask him in good faith, what “ker-chug!” meant. But he did not tell, +and to this day I have not found out what “ker-chug” means. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: “WILD STRAWBERRIES GREW RED AND SWEET DOWN IN THE TALL +GRASS.”] + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + V.—THE MEADOW-ROCKS. + +Another place where I played was out on the meadow-rocks. Right down in +a level spot in the meadow were three great rocks. Each one of these +rocks was as large as a dining-room table. Right through this little +flat place ran the brook I have told you about, bubbling round our three +great rocks. + +0, what splendid playhouses those rocks were! We each owned one. The +third was owned by that wooden doll, Mrs. Pippy. In order to get to +either one of the houses you had to cross a little bridge that spanned a +tiny river. Also there were dear little steps up the sides of the rocks +which it was such a pleasure to go up and down. + +On the top of the rocks, which were almost as flat as the top of a +table, were little closely-clinging patches of moss that we called our +rugs. There were queer-shaped hollows in the tops of these rocks. In one +little moss-lined hollow I used to cradle my baby-doll. Another hollow +was my kitchen sink. I used to fill up my sink with bits of broken +dishes, turn on some water from the brook, and then such a scrubbing as +my dishes got! + +At the rocks, kneeling down on the planks that formed our bridges, we +used to wash our dollies’ clothes. Then we would spread them on the +grass to dry. Didn’t we use to keep our babies clean and sweet! + +Afterwards, pinning our short skirts up about us, we would wash the +floors of our little rock houses until they shone. When everything was +spick-and-span, we would unpin our skirts, pull down our sleeves, rub +our rosy cheeks with a mullein leaf to make them rosier, and with a big +burdock leaf tied on with a couple of strings for a bonnet we would go +calling on our lazy neighbor, Mrs. Pippy, and give her a serious +“talking-to.” + +Or, perhaps, we would call on each other and talk about the terrible +illnesses our poor children were suffering from. Or, perhaps, we would +go to market. The market consisted of a long row of raspberry bushes +along the meadow fence. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: WASHING-DAY AT THE ROCK-HOUSES.] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + But when to-morrow, down the lane, + I walk among the flowers again, + Between the tall red hollyhocks, + Here I shall find you as before, + Asleep within your fastened door,— + My lazy four-o’clocks! + MARGARET JOHNSON. + + + + +[Illustration] + + _THE SNOW WITCH._ + + +There was skating on the ponds where the snow had been cleared; there +were icicles on the trees, nice blue, clear skies in the daytime, cold, +bright, wintry moonlight at night. + +Lovely weather for Christmas holidays! But to one little five-year-old +man, nothing had seemed lovely this Christmas, though he was spending it +with his Father and Mother and his big sisters at Grandpapa’s beautiful +old country house, where everybody did all that could be done to make +Grandpapa’s guests happy. For poor little Roger was pining for his elder +brother, Lawson, whom he had not seen for more than four months. Lawson +was eight, and had been at school since Michaelmas, and there he had +caught a fever which had made it not safe for him to join the rest of +the family till the middle of January. But he was coming to-morrow. + +Why, then, did Roger still look sad and gloomy? + +“Stupid little boy!” said Mabel. “I’m sure we’ve tried to amuse him. +Why, Mamma let him sit up an hour later than usual last night, to hear +all those funny old fairy tales and legends Uncle Bob was telling.” + +“Yes, and weren’t they fun?” answered Pansy. “I did shiver at the witch +ones, though, didn’t you?” + +Poor little Roger! Pansy’s shivering was nothing to his! They had all +walked home from the vicarage, tempted by the clear, frosty moonlight +and the hard, dry ground; and trotting along, a little behind the +others, a strange thing had happened to the boy. Fancy—in the field by +the Primrose Lane, through the gateway, right in a bright band of +moonlight, _he had seen a witch_. Just such a witch as Uncle Bob had +described—with shadowy garments, and outstretched arms, and a +queer-shaped head, on all of which the icicles were sparkling, just as +Uncle Bob had said. For it was a winter-witch he had told the story +about, whose dwelling was up in the frozen northern seas—“the Snow +Witch” they called her. + +[Illustration] + +Cold as it was, Roger was in a bath of heat, his heart beating wildly, +his legs shaking, when he overtook his sisters. And the night that +followed was full of terrible dreams and starts and misery, even though +nurse and baby were next door, and he could see the night-light through +the chinks. If it had not been that Lawson was coming—Lawson who never +laughed at him or called him “stupid little goose,” Lawson who listened +to all his griefs—Roger could not have borne it. For, strange to say, +the little fellow told no one of his trouble; he felt as if he could +_only_ tell Lawson. + +No wonder he looked pale and sad and spiritless; there was still another +dreadful night to get through before Lawson came. + +But things sometimes turn out better than our fears. Late that +afternoon, when nursery tea was over and bedtime not far off, there came +the sound of wheels and then a joyful hubbub. Lawson had come! Uncle Bob +had been passing near the school where he was, and had gone a little out +of his way to pick him up. Every one was delighted—oh, of them all, +_none_ so thankful as Roger. + +“Though I wont tell him to-night,” decided the unselfish little fellow, +“not to spoil his first night. I sha’n’t mind when I know he’s in his +cot beside me.” And even when Lawson lovingly asked him if anything was +the matter, he kept to his resolution. + +But he woke in the middle of the night from a terrible dream; Lawson +woke too, and then—out it all came. + +“I thought she was coming in at the window,” Roger ended. “If—if you +look out—it’s moonlight—I think _p’r’aps_ you’ll see where she stands. +But no, no! Don’t, _don’t_! She might see you.” + +So Lawson agreed to wait till to-morrow. + +“I have an idea,” said Lawson. “Roger, darling, go to sleep. _I’m_ here, +and you can say your prayers again if you like.” + +Lawson was up very early next morning. And as soon as breakfast was over +he told Roger to come out with him. Down the Primrose Lane they went, in +spite of Roger’s trembling. + +“Now, shut your eyes,” said Lawson, when they got to the gate. He opened +it, and led his brother through. + +“Look, now!” he said, with a merry laugh. And what do you think Roger +saw? + +[Illustration] + +An old scarecrow, forgotten since last year. There she stood, the “Snow +Witch,” an apron and ragged shawl, two sticks for arms, a bit of +Grandpapa’s hat, to crown all—that was the witch! + +“Shake hands with her, Roger,” said Lawson. And shake hands they both +did, till the old scarecrow tumbled to pieces, never more to frighten +either birds or little boys. “Dear Lawson,” said Roger, lovingly, as he +held up his little face for a kiss. And happy, indeed, were the rest of +the Christmas holidays. + +May they never love each other less, these two; may they be true +brothers in manhood as they have been in their childish days! + + _L. Molesworth._ + + + + + _THE THREE BLIND MICE._ + _THE STORY TOLD BY A BROWNIE._ + + +Well, first of all, I must tell you that I am a Brownie, and although I +am ever and ever so old, I look as young to-day as I did when I was but +one year old. Well, it was about seven hundred years ago, and I used to +be a great deal with some other Brownies, cousins of mine, visiting at +the same farm-houses as they did, and helping them with their work. And +it was in this way that I got to know the Three Blind Mice,—Purrin, +Furrin, and Tod. + +Pretty, pleasant little fellows they were; and they were not blind +then,—far from it. They lived up in the loft of Dame Marjoram’s room, +over at Fiveoaks Farm. + +Such merry supper-parties as never were, I think, before or since, we +used to have then. We would think nothing of finishing a round of apple +and a walnut-shell full of honey between us, in one evening, to say +nothing of scraps of cheese-rind and the crumbs we stole from the birds. +Purrin had a most melodious voice, and could sing a good song, while Tod +was never at a loss for an amusing story. As to Furrin, he was almost as +quaint as our Mr. Puck, and, though perhaps it is not for _me_ to say +so, when those in high places do encourage him, not one-tenth as +mischievous. + +When Angelina, the old stable cat, had kittens, he would get into all +sorts of out-of-the-way places, and imitate their squeaky little voices, +so that she was always on the fidget, thinking she must have mislaid one +somewhere, and never able to find it. For you see, as she could not +count, she never knew whether they were all beside her or no. Often he +would coax a whole hazel-nut out of Rudge, the Squirrel, who lived on +the Hanger, just above, and whom every one believed to be a miser. And +then his Toasting-fork Dance was so sprightly and graceful, it did your +heart good to see it. Ah, me! those days are gone, and Furrin is gone +too; and the Moon, when she looks through that chink in the barn roof, +no longer sees us feasting and making merry on the great beam. + +And this is how they became blind: + +[Illustration] + +They were very fond of Gilliflower, Dame Marjoram’s little daughter, and +after the nurse had put her to bed, Furrin, Purrin, and Tod used to +creep up into her room, and read her some of the funny little tales from +Mouse-land till she went to sleep. She would lie there with her eyes +shut, and perhaps imagined that it was her own thoughts that made her +fancy all about the fairy tales that came into her head; but really it +was the mice who read them to her, but in such a low voice that +Gilliflower never thought of opening her eyes to see if any one was +there. I must tell you that the print in Mouse-land is very, very small +and hard to read. This did not matter so much during the long Summer +evenings, when there was plenty of light to see to read by; but when the +Winter came on, and the mice had only the firelight to read by, then +reading the small print began to tell its tale. You know how bad it is +for the eyesight to read any print by firelight, and it must be very +much worse when the print is very small; and so Furrin would say to +Purrin, “My eyes are getting quite dim, so now you must read;” and +before Purrin had read a page he would say the same thing to Tod, and +then Tod would try; but after a time their eyes became so dim they +couldn’t see at all, and so they had to invent stories to tell little +Gilliflower; so the poor little mice went quite blind, trying to amuse +their little girl friend. + +I took what care of them I could; but their blindness was very sad for +them. No longer had Purrin the heart to sing or Furrin to dance and +jest. Only they would sit close together, each holding one of Tod’s +hands, and listening to his stories, for he kept his spirits best, and +did all he could to cheer the others. All the marketing fell to me then, +and it gave me plenty to do; for, poor souls, the only amusement left +them was a dainty morsel, now and then. + +And, by and by, they became so tired of sitting still, when Tod had +exhausted all his stock of stories, that they got reckless, and would go +blundering about the house after Dame Marjoram, whom they knew by the +rustle of her silken skirt, and the tapping of her high-heeled shoes. +They all ran after her, forgetting, that although they could not see +her, still she could see them, and trying to follow her into her +store-room, where the almonds, and raisins, and sugar, and candied-peel +were kept. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +I told them she would get angry, and that harm would come of it; but I +think their unhappiness and dulness made them quite foolhardy, for they +still went on, getting under her feet, and well-nigh tripping her up; +clambering into the lard-pot before her very eyes; in short, doing a +thousand irritating and injudicious things day by day, until her +patience was quite worn out. And at last, when they scrambled on to the +dinner-table, thinking it to be the store-room shelf, and sat all in a +row, quietly eating out of Miss Gilliflower’s plate, Dame Marjoram, who +had the carving-knife in her hand, thought it high time for them to have +a lesson in manners. So, thinking the knife was turned blunt side +downwards, she rapped them smartly across their three tails. What was +her horror and their dismay, to find them cut off quite cleanly. The +little tails lay still on the table, and the three little mice, +well-nigh crazed with terror and pain, groped their way off the table +and out of the room. + +I was returning from the cheese-room, and met them crossing the great +hall. + +Of course, I took in at a glance all that had occurred, and I must say +that I felt but little surprise, though much sorrow. I guided them to +our old haunt in the loft-roof and then sat down to prepare a Memorial +for Dame Marjoram, giving a full account of all that they had suffered +for the sake of her family. + +[Illustration] + +This I placed on the top of the key-basket; and while she was reading +it, with my usual tact I silently brought in Purrin, Furrin, and Tod, +and pushed them forward in front of her. + +The tears stood in her eyes as she finished reading my scroll, and from +that time forth nothing was too good for the Three Blind Mice. The good +wife even tried to make new tails for them. + +But they did not live long to enjoy their new happiness. The loss of +their sight, followed by the shock of having their tails cut off, was +too much for them. They never quite recovered, but died, all on the same +day, within the same hour, just a month afterward. + +Their three little graves were made beneath the shadows of a lavender +bush in the garden. + +Sometimes I go there to scatter a flower or two, and to shed a tear to +the memory of Purrin, Furrin, and Tod. + + _Helen J. Wood._ + +[Illustration] + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + VI—THE LILACS. + +There was a great clump of lilac bushes out by the garden wall. These +lilacs grew close together and made a thick hedge nearly around a little +plot of ground, where the grass grew so thick and velvety that it was +like a great green rug, and they bent their tall heads over this little +green plot, and so formed a lovely summer-house. + +Here we used to sew for our dolls, and here we used to give tea-parties. +Raspberry shortcake was one of the dainties we used to have. This is the +way we made it: Take a nice clean raspberry leaf, heap it with +raspberries, and put another leaf on top. Eat at once. + +In this lovely summer-house I used to keep school. I had a row of bricks +for scholars. Each brick had its own name. Two or three of the bricks +were nice and red and new. I named those new bricks after my dearest +little school-friends. + +The rest of the bricks were either broken or blackened a little. Those +bricks were my naughty, idle scholars. I used to stand them up in a row +to learn their lessons. The first thing I knew those bad bricks would +all tumble down in a heap. Numbers of little lilac-switches grew about +my schoolhouse, and I fear I was a severe teacher. + +When the lilacs were in bloom, that dear little summer-house was a very +gay little place. The great, purple plumes would nod in every little +wind that blew. The air was full of sweetness. Butterflies made the +trees bright with their slowly-waving wings. There was a drowsy hum of +many bees. Sometimes we would catch hold of one of the slender trunks of +the lilac trees, and give it a smart shake. Away would flash a bright +cloud of butterflies, and a swarm of angry, buzzing bees! + +Pleasant Sabbath afternoons, we used to take our Sunday-school books out +under the lilacs to read. And as we read about good deeds and unselfish +lives, our own choir of birds would sing sweet hymns. Then we would look +up and smile, and say, “They have good singing at the lilac church, +don’t they?” + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: I HAD A ROW OF BRICKS FOR SCHOLARS.] + + + + + EIGHT YEARS OLD. + THE SINGING-LESSON. + + + A slender, liquid note, + Long-drawn and silver-sweet. + Obediently the little maid + Tries, timid still, and half afraid, + The lesson to repeat. + + A breezy turn or two, + A blithe and bold refrain, + A ripple up and down the scale, + And still the learner does not fail + To echo soft the strain. + + A burst of melody + Wild, rapturous, and long. + A thousand airy runs and trills + Like drops from overflowing rills,— + The vanquished pupil’s song + + Breaks into laughter sweet. + And does her master chide? + Nay; little Ethel’s music-room + Is mid the sunny garden’s bloom, + Her roof the branches wide. + + With parted lips she stands + Among the flowers alone. + Her teacher—hark! again he sings! + A stir—a flash of startled wings— + The little bird has flown! + MARGARET JOHNSON. + + + + +[Illustration: “One,| Two,| Buckle| My Shoe.” By Margaret Johnson] + + + Smile on me, Baby, my sweet, + As I kneel humbly here at your feet. + My Prince, with no crown for your head, + But your own sunny tresses instead. + And your lips and your eyes gravely sweet, + Smile down on me here at your feet, + Little one. + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + VII.—THE SAND-BANK. + +That sand-bank in the pasture was one of the nicest of our playhouses. +There was neither dust nor dirt in it—nothing but clean, fine sand, with +now and then a pebble. It was not high, so there was no danger of a +great mass of sand falling down on us two children. + +The sand-bank was not very far from the little brook. Myra and I would +carry pailful after pailful of water from the brook to it, until we had +moistened a large quantity of sand. Sometimes we would cover our little +bare feet with the cool, wet sand, packing it just as close as we could. +Then gently, O, so gently, we would pull our feet out from under the +sand. The little “five-toed caves” as we used to call them, would show +just as plain as could be, where our little feet had been! We used to +catch little toads and put them into those little damp caves, but they +would soon hop out. + +We used to make the nicest pies and cakes and cookies out of that lovely +wet sand. We used to wish our sand-dainties were fit to eat! + +Oftentimes, when we were tired of cooking, we would go to work and lay +out a wonderful garden with tiny flower-beds and winding paths, out of +that wet sand. Some of those flower-beds were star-shaped, some were +round as a wheel, and some were square. We used to gather handfuls of +wild-flowers and stick them down in, until every tiny bed blossomed into +pink and blue and white and gold! + +We used to make sand-preserves out there. The time and the patience that +we used up in filling narrow-necked bottles with sand! After a bottle +was well-filled and shaken down, we would catch up that bottle and run +down to the brook. We would wash the outside of that bottle until it +shone like cut-glass, and then we would pack it away in a hollow stump +that we called our preserve-closet. + +We used to play a game that we called “Hop-scotch” out in the old +sand-bank. In this game, you mark the sand off into rather large +squares. Then hopping along on one foot, you try with your toe to push a +pebble from one square into another. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: THE SAND-BANK GARDEN.] + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + VIII.—THE OLD PASTURE. + +I used to play a great deal out in the old pasture. It had a clump of +cradle-knolls in it. A cradle-knoll is a little mound of moss. + +On these mossy little cradle-knolls, checkerberry leaves and berries +used to grow. How delicious those spicy young checkerberry leaves +tasted! And we hunted those red plums as a cat hunts a mouse! + +The pasture had two or three well-beaten paths in it, that the cows had +made by their sober steady tramping back and forth from the barnyard +lane to the growth of little trees and bushes and tender grass at the +back. At sunset-time, two little barefooted girls would “spat” along +those cool smooth winding paths after those cows. + +As long as we kept in the paths our little feet were all right. But +sometimes a clump of bright wild-flowers tempted us, and then two sorry +little girls with thistle-prickles in their feet would come limping +back. But out where the tender grasses grew there were no thistles, and +such fun as hide-and-seek used to be among the bushes! + +Sometimes we could not find the cows very readily; and then we would +climb up on a smutty stump and call, “co’ boss! co’ boss!” until the +woods rang. + +In the spring, we would go a-maying out in the old pasture, and O, such +great handfuls of the sweet mayflower as we used to bring home! Later +on, we would gather great bunches of sweet-smelling herbs that grew wild +out there, and carry them home to hang up in the shed-chamber and dry. + +If one of my schoolmates had been unkind to me, I would go out into the +old pasture, and there I would plan out for myself a lovely future +wherein I should be _very_ rich and _very_ good to the poor. And my +unkind schoolmate would be one of the humble receivers of my gifts, and +so it would come about that before I got through building air-castles I +would actually feel sorry for the poor schoolmate who had ill-used me. +And then home I would go, singing and skipping! + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: “CO’ BOSS!! CO’ BOSS!”] + + + + + Little Mother Hubbard. + + +[Music] + + 1. Lit-tle Mo-ther Hub-bard sat + In the park at play, With her gown and point-ed hat All of so-ber + gray. And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce be-lieved my eyes; + And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce believed my eyes. + + 2. Pug no long-er frisked a-bout, + For he felt the loss Of his sup-per and his cake, So was tired and + cross. And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug; + And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug. + + 3. Mo-ther Hub-bard hur-ried home, + Say-ing, “Mer-cy me! Pug shall have some frost-ed cake And a cup of + tea.” But the cake was eat-en up And the nurse had lost his cup; + But the cake was eat-en up, And the nurse had lost his cup. + + + + +[Illustration: PILLOW·LAND] + + + GOOD-NIGHT. + + Suck-a-Thumb, + Bed-time’s come. + + Dressed in white, + Shut eyes tight. + + “Nighty, night!” + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + IX.—THE ELM-TREE. + +Out in one of the meadows was a big elm-tree. It was very tall, and in +summer it looked like a monster bunch of green plumes. + +It stood on the bank of our little brook. Right where the old elm stood, +the bank was quite high, six feet almost. The boughs on the old tree +grew very low. I would catch hold of one of those low-hanging boughs. +Then, I would give a little run and jump. Away out over the bank and +over the brook I would swing! + +Oftentimes I would take my patchwork out under the old elm. But soon the +patchwork would be on the ground, forgotten, and an idle little girl +would be lying flat on the grass, with her hands clasped under her head, +looking up into the clear blue sky! + +I used to make believe that the white clouds were my ships, coming into +harbor under full sail. And I used to make up fine names for my ships, +and O, such splendid cargoes as they would be loaded with, all for +me—their rich young owner—the idle dreamer in the grass! + +O, it was such fun to lie there in the midst of funny daisies with their +high white collars, and buttercups with their yellow caps! The roguish +little winds would make them bend over and tickle the rosy face of the +little girl whom the birds and the brook had almost hushed off to sleep. +There would be a soft little touch on my forehead, and then another on +my chin, and yet others on my cheeks. Then I would open my eyes and +laugh at those funny little white and gold heads, soberly wagging up and +down. But once I was rather frightened out under the old elm. I had been +lying flat on my back for an hour or two, when I was called. I half +raised myself up and answered. My hand was on the ground just where I +had been lying. I felt something squirming around my thumb. It was a +tiny brown snake! Of course, it was as harmless as a fly, but didn’t I +spring to my feet! + +When I had to recite a little piece in school or at a church concert, I +always used to rehearse that little piece out under the old elm, over +and over again. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: SWINGING ON THE ELM-TREE BOUGH.] + + + + + _Puggie in Disgrace._ + + + Child-ren, just look at this queer little Pug, + His small wrin-kled nose, his little black mug! + I fear he’s been naugh-ty at les-sons to-day, + And, like naugh-ty child-ren, he’s pun-ished this way. + + He sits on the stool of re-pent-ance, you see; + Poor Pug-gie is gen-tle and meek as can be; + But when at his les-sons he just took a nap, + And that is the rea-son he wears the Fool’s cap. + + His neck has an or-na-ment, not like his head, + But a beau-ti-ful lock-et and rib-bon in-stead; + So you see that to some one the dog-gie is dear, + Al-though they all tease him I very much fear. + + From Ho-race, the eld-est, to lit-tle Miss May, + All in-sist that Poor Pug-gie should join in their play; + Some-times they pet him, and some-times they tease, + But he bears it all pa-tient-ly, eager to please. + + He rolls his big eyes, or just heaves a sigh, + And thinks they’ll make up for it all by and by. + For Pug-gie is greed-y, and bears a great deal + For the sake of some cakes or a good heart-y meal. + + But though he _is_ greed-y, his faults are but few, + He is lov-ing and hon-est, de-vo-ted and true. + If our two-foot-ed friends were as faith-ful as he + Ve-ry for-tu-nate peo-ple I think we should be. + +[Illustration] + + + + + _TIC-TAC-TOO._ + + +Tic-tac-too was a little boy; he was exactly three years old, and the +youngest in the family; so, of course, he was the king. His real name +was Alec; but he was always known in the household, and among his wide +circle of friends generally, as Tic-tac-too. There was a little story to +account for this, and it is that story which I am now going to tell. + +[Illustration] + +There are very few children who do not know the funny old nursery rhyme +of “Tic-tac-too;” it is an old-fashioned rhyme, and in great vogue +amongst nurses. Of course Alec enjoyed it, and liked to have his toes +pulled, and the queer words said to him. But that is not the story; for +it is one thing to like a nursery rhyme very much, and another to be +called by the name of that rhyme, and nothing else. + +Now, please, listen to the story. + +There was no nicer house to live in than Daisy Farm: it was +old-fashioned and roomy; there were heaps of small bedrooms with low +ceilings, and heaps of long passages, and unexpected turnings, and dear +little cosey corners; and there was a large nursery made out of two or +three of the small rooms thrown together, and this nursery had casement +windows, and from the windows the daisies, which gave their name to the +farm, could be seen. They came up in thousands upon thousands, and no +power of man and scythe combined could keep them down. The +mowing-machine only suppressed them for a day or two; up they started +anew in their snowy dresses, with their modest pink frills and bright +yellow edges. + +Mr. Rogers, who owned Daisy Farm, objected to the flowers; but his +children delighted in them, and picked them in baskets-full, and made +daisy-chains to their hearts’ content. There were several children who +lived in this pleasant farmhouse, for Tic-tac-too had many brothers and +sisters. The old-fashioned nursery was all that a modern nursery should +be; it had deep cupboards for toys, and each child had his or her wide +shelf to keep special treasures on; and the window-ledges were cosey +places to curl up in on wet days, when the rain beat outside, and the +wind sighed, and even the daisies looked as if they did not like to be +washed so much. + +[Illustration] + +Some of the children at Daisy Farm were old enough to have governesses +and masters, to have a schoolroom for themselves, and, in short, to have +very little to say to the nursery; but still there were four nursery +little ones; and one day mother electrified the children by telling them +that another little boy was coming to pay them a visit. + +“He is coming to-morrow,” said mother; “he is a year younger than Alec +here, but his mother has asked us to take care of him. You must all be +kind to the little baby stranger, children, and try your very best to +make him feel at home. Poor little man, I trust he will be happy with +us.” + +[Illustration] + +Mother sighed as she spoke; and when she did this, Rosie, the eldest +nursery child, looked up at her quickly. Rosie had dark gray eyes, and a +very sympathetic face; she was the kind of child who felt everybody’s +troubles, and nurse said she did this far more than was good for her. + +The moment her mother left the room, Rosie ran up to her nurse, and +spoke eagerly— + +“Why did mother sigh when she said a new little boy was coming here, +nursie?” + +“Oh, my love, how can I tell? People sigh most likely from habit, and +from no reason whatever. There’s nothing to fret anybody in a sigh, Miss +Rosie.” + +“But mother doesn’t sigh from habit,” answered Rosie; “I expect there’s +going to be something sad about the new little boy, and I wonder what it +is. Harry, shall we collect some of our very nicest toys to have ready +for the poor little new boy?” + +Harry was six; he had a determined face, and was not so generous as +Rosie. + +“I’ll not give away my skin-horse,” he said, “so you needn’t think it, +nor my white dog with the joints; there are some broken things down in +that corner that he can have. But I don’t see why a new baby should have +my best toys. Gee-up, Alec! you’re a horse, you know, and I’m going to +race you from one end of the nursery to the other—now trot!” + +Fat little curly-headed Alec started off good-humoredly, and Rosie +surveyed her own shelf to see which toys would most distract the +attention of the little stranger. + +She was standing on a hassock, and counting her treasures over +carefully, when she was startled by a loud exclamation from nurse. + +“Mercy me! If that ain’t the telegraph boy coming up the drive!” + +Nurse was old-fashioned enough still to regard telegrams with +apprehension. She often said she could never look at one of those awful +yellow envelopes, without her heart jumping into her mouth; and these +fears she had, to a certain extent, infected the children with. + +Harry dropped Alec’s reins, and rushed to the window; Rosie forgot her +toys, and did likewise; Jack and Alec both pressed for a view from +behind. + +“Me, me, me, me want to see!” screamed baby Alec from the back. + +Nurse lifted him into her arms; as she did so, she murmured under her +breath,— + +“God preserve us! I hope that awful boy isn’t bringing us anything bad.” + +Rosie heard the words, and felt a sudden sense of chill and anxiety; she +pressed her little hand into nurse’s, and longed more than ever to give +all the nicest toys to the new little boy. + +Just then the nursery door was opened, and Kate, the housemaid, +appeared, carrying the yellow envelope daintily between her finger and +thumb. + +“There, nurse,” she said, “it’s for you; and I hope, I’m sure, it’s no +ill-luck I’m bringing you.” + +“Oh, sake’s alive!” said nurse. “Children, dears, let me sit down. That +awful boy to bring it to me! Well, the will of the Lord must be done; +whatever’s inside this ugly thing? Miss Rosie, my dear, could you hunt +round somewhere for my spectacles?” + +It always took a long time to find nurse’s spectacles; and Rosie, after +a frantic search, in which she was joined by all the other nursery +children, discovered them at last at the bottom of Alec’s cot. She +rushed with them to the old woman, who put them on her nose, and began +deliberately to read the contents of her telegram. + +The children stood round her as she did so. They were all breathless and +excited; and Rosie looked absolutely white from anxiety. + +“Well, my dears,” said nurse at last, when she had spelt through the +words, “it ain’t exactly a trouble; far from me to say that; but all the +same, it’s mighty contrary, and a new child coming here, and all.” + +“What is it, nurse?” said Harry. “_Do_ tell us what it’s all about.” + +“It’s my daughter, dears,” said nurse; “she’ll be in London to-morrow, +on her way back to America.” + +“Oh, nurse!” said Rosie, “not your daughter Ann?” + +[Illustration] + +“The same, my love; she that has eight children, and four of them with +carrotty hair. She wants me to go up to London, to see her to-morrow; +that’s the news the telegraph boy has brought, Miss Rosie. My daughter +Ann says, ‘Mother, meet me to-morrow at aunt’s, at two o’clock.’ Well, +well, it’s mighty contrary; and that new child coming, and all!” + +“But you’ll have to go, nurse. It would be dreadful for your daughter +Ann not to see you again.” + +“Yes, dear, that’s all very fine; but what’s to become of all you +children? How is this blessed baby to get on without his old Nan?” + +“Oh, nurse, you _must_ go! It would be so cruel if you didn’t,” +exclaimed Rosie. + +Nurse sat thinking hard for a minute or two; then saying she would go +and consult her mistress, she left the room. + +The upshot of all this was, that at an early hour the following morning +nurse started for London, and a girl, of the name of Patience, from the +village, came up to take her place in the nursery. + +Mrs. Rogers was particularly busy during these days. She had some +friends staying with her, and in addition to this her eldest daughter, +Ethel, was ill, and took up a good deal of her mother’s time; in +consequence of these things the nursery children were left entirely to +the tender mercies of Patience. + +Not that that mattered much, for they were independent children, and +always found their own amusements. The first day of nurse’s absence, +too, was fine, and they spent the greater part of it in the open air; +but the second day was wet—a hopelessly wet day—a dull day with a +drizzling fog, and no prospect whatever of clearing up. + +The morning’s post brought a letter from nurse to ask for further leave +of absence; and this, in itself, would have depressed the spirits of the +nursery children, for they were looking forward to a gay supper with +her, and a long talk about her daughter Ann, and all her London +adventures. + +[Illustration] + +But this was not the real trouble which pressed so heavily on Rosie’s +motherly heart; the real anxiety which made her little face look so +careworn was caused by the new baby, the little boy of two years old, +who had arrived late the night before, and now sat with a shadow on his +face, absolutely refusing to make friends with any one. + +He must have been a petted little boy at home, for he was beautifully +dressed, and his curly hair was nicely cared for, and his fair face had +a delicate peach bloom about it; but if he was petted, he was also, +perhaps, spoilt, for he certainly would not make advances to any of his +new comrades, nor exert himself to be agreeable, nor to overcome the +strangeness which was filling his baby mind. Had nurse been at home, she +would have known how to manage; she would have coaxed smiles from little +Fred, and taken him up in her arms, and “mothered” him a good bit. +Babies of two require a great lot of “mothering,” and it is surprising +what desolation fills their little souls when it is denied them. + +Fred cried while Patience was dressing him; he got almost into a passion +when she washed his face, and he sulked over his breakfast. Patience was +not at all the sort of girl to manage a child like Fred; she was rough +in every sense of the word; and when rough petting failed, she tried the +effect of rough scolding. + +“Come, baby, come, you _must_ eat your bread and milk. No nonsense now, +open your mouth and gobble it down. Come, come, I’ll slap you if you +don’t.” + +But baby Fred, though sorrowful, was not a coward; he pushed the bowl of +bread and milk away, upset its contents over the clean tablecloth, and +raised two sorrowful big eyes to the new nurse’s face. + +“Naughty dirl, do away,” he said; “Fred don’t ’ove ’oo. Fred won’t eat +bekfus’.” + +[Illustration] + +“Oh, Miss Rosie, what a handful he is!” said Patience. + +“Let me try him!” said Rosie; “I’ll make him eat something. Come Freddy +darling, you love Rosie, don’t you?” + +“No, I don’t,” said Fred. + +“Well, you’ll eat some breakfast; come now.” + +“I won’t eat none bekfus’—do away.” + +Rosie turned round and looked in a despairing way at her own three +brothers. + +“If only nurse were at home!” she said. + +“Master Fred,” said Patience, “if you won’t eat, you must get down from +the breakfast-table. I have got to clear up, you know.” + +She popped the little boy on the floor. He looked round in a bewildered +fashion. + +“Let’s have a very exciting kind of play, and perhaps he’ll join in,” +said Rosie, in a whisper. “Let’s play at kittens—that’s the loveliest of +all our games.” + +“Kittens” was by no means a quiet pastime. It consisted, indeed, in wild +romps on all-fours, each child assuming for the time the character of a +kitten, and jumping after balls of paper, which they caught in their +mouths. + +“It’s the happiest of all our games, and perhaps he’ll like it,” said +Rosie. + +“Patie,” said Alec, going up to the new nurse, “does ’oo know +_Tic-tac-too_?” + +“Of course I do, master Baby—a silly game that.” + +“I ’ike it,” said little Alec. + +He tripped across the nursery to the younger baby, and sat down by his +side. + +“Take off ’oo shoe,” he said. + +Fred was very tired of being cross and miserable. He could not say he +was too little to Alec, for Alec was scarcely bigger than himself. +Besides he understood about taking off his shoe. It was a performance he +particularly liked. He looked at Baby Alec, and obeyed him. + +“Take off ’oo other shoe,” said Alec. + +Fred did so. + +“Pull off ’oo ’tocks,” ordered the eldest baby. + +Fred absolutely chuckled as he tugged away at his white socks, and +revealed his pink toes. + +“Now, come to Patie.” + +Fred scrambled to his feet, and holding Alec’s hand, trotted down the +long nursery. + +“Patie,” said Alec, “take F’ed on ’our lap, and play _Tic-tac-too_ for +him?” + +[Illustration] + +Patience was busy sewing; she raised her eyes. Two smiling little +baby-boys were standing by her knee. Could this child, whose blue eyes +were full of sunshine, be the miserable little Fred? + +“Well, master Alec,” she said, kissing the older baby, “you’re a perfect +little darling. Well, I never! to think of you finding out a way to +please that poor child.” + +“Tic-tac-too!” said Fred, in a loud and vigorous voice. He was fast +getting over his shyness, and Alec’s game suited him to perfection. + +But the little stranger did _not_ like the game of kittens. He marched +in a fat, solid sort of way across the nursery, and sat down in a +corner, with his back to the company. Here he really looked a most +dismal little figure. The view of his back was heart-rending; his curly +head drooped slightly, forlornness was written all over his little +person. + +“What a little muff he is!” said Harry; “I’m glad I didn’t give my skin +horse to him.” + +“Oh, don’t,” said Rosie, “can’t you see he’s unhappy? I must go and +speak to him. Fred,” she said, going up to the child, “come and play +with Alec and me.” + +[Illustration] + +“No,” said Fred, “I’se too little to p’ay.” + +“But we’ll have such an easy play, Fred. _Do_ come; I wish you would.” + +“I’se too little,” answered Fred, shaking his head again. + +At that moment Rosie and her two elder brothers were called out of the +room to their morning lessons. Rosie’s heart ached as she went away. + +“Something must be done,” she said to herself. “That new little boy-baby +will get quite ill if we can’t think of something to please him soon.” + +She did not know that a very unexpected little deliverer was at hand. +The two babies were now alone in the nursery, and Patience, having +finished her tidying up, sat down to her sewing. + +Patience lifted him on her lap, popped him down with a bounce, kissed +him, and began,— + + “Tic, tac, too, + The little horse has lost his shoe, + Here a nail, and there a nail, + Here a nail, and there a nail, + Tic, tac, too!” + +When the other children returned to the nursery, they heard peals of +merry baby laughter; and this was the fashion in which a little boy won +his name. + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + X.—THE PASTURE FENCE. + +We used to play a great deal about the pasture fence. It was a high rail +fence and we used to take a little pole in both hands as a balancing +pole, and run along on the top. Carefully we balanced ourselves as we +ran! But finally we would tip first one way and then the other, and +then, with a little laughing scream, off we’d topple! + +Sometimes we would put a board through the fence and have a fine time at +“seesaw.” Up one of us would go, high in the air, and down would go the +other with a thud! + +We used to play that the pasture fence was a huge cupboard. Each rail +was a shelf. Many of those rail-shelves were loaded down with bits of +broken dishes, shining pebbles, bits of green moss that we called +“pincushions,” and white clam-shells full of strawberries, or +raspberries, or little dark juicy choke-cherries. The contents of the +clam-shells were for the birds. If we found a clam-shell lying on the +ground, we believed with all our little hearts that a little winged +creature had been fed from our cupboard. + +Sometimes we would carry on a thriving millinery store out at the +pasture fence. We would make queer little bonnets out of birch-bark. +Then we would sew wildflowers on the bonnets and lay them on the rails +of the fence for sale. Such a number of those funny little bonnets as +would be on exhibition on our rail-counters! + +One of the big upright posts of our rail fence was hollow a little way +down. One day we found on the ground a nest full of birdlings; one of +them was dead, and a little green snake had almost reached the nest. The +mother-bird was flying about crying pitifully. I snatched the nest away +and carried it O, so carefully to the pasture fence and put it down in +the hollow of the fence-post. Then we went a bit away and waited. Pretty +soon there was a little rush of wings; and soon the mother-bird settled +down in that hollow post just as cunning as could be. And that dear +little family staid in that hollow post until the baby-birds grew up and +flew away. + + _Percia V. White._ + + + + + LULU’S FIRST THANKSGIVING. + + +Lulu was six years old last spring. She came to make a visit at her +grandfather’s, and stayed until after Thanksgiving. + +[Illustration] + +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’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. + +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’s. It did not take them long to get +acquainted. Before time for dinner they felt as if they had always known +each other. + +[Illustration] + +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. + +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. + +After dinner they played all kinds of games. All the uncles and aunts +and grown-up cousins played blind-man’s-buff with them. + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + XI.—OUR RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE. + +We had a number of rainy-day playhouses. When it did not rain very hard, +Myra and I would scamper out to our little playhouse made of boards, and +listen to the patter of the drops. + +It was not a very costly playhouse. It was built in a corner made by the +shed and the orchard fence. One side of our playhouse was the shed. +Another side was the fence; this open side we used to call our +bay-window. A creeping hop vine twined around the rough fence-boards and +made a green lace curtain for our bay-window. The third side was made of +boards. Across this side stretched the wide board seat, which was the +only furniture of our playhouse. The fourth, or front side of the +playhouse consisted mostly of a “double-door,” of which we were very +proud. This double-door was two large green blinds. Did not we feel like +truly little housekeepers when we fastened those two blinds together +with a snap! + +When the rain came down in gentle showers we used to go out to the +little playhouse and have a concert. First Myra would step up on to that +wide board seat and recite a little piece. Then I would step up on to +the seat and sing a little song. Perhaps while I was singing a robin in +the orchard would begin to sing, O, so loud and sweet that all the +orchard just rang with that sweet music! We would stop our concert and +listen to the robin. When he had finished, we used to clap our little +hands. And all the time the rain kept up a fairy “tinkle, tinkle,” as if +some one was keeping time for us on a tiny piano. + +Spat-t! Spat-t! would come the little drops through a tiny hole in the +roof of our little house. We used to hold our faces up towards that +little leak in the roof. Oftentimes a drop would strike us fairly on the +tip of our small noses! Then how we would laugh! + +Sometimes we would take hold of hands and repeat together, over and over +again: “Rain, rain, go away, come again, another day!” + +And if we said those words long enough, the rain would go away! + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: THE RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.] + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + XII.—THE WHOLE WHITE WORLD. + +In winter we played everywhere! The whole white world was a lovely +playground! We had no skates, but we wore very thick-soled boots that +took the place of skates very well. At least we thought so, and that was +all we needed to make us contented. When the little pond was frozen +over, we would take a quick run down its snowy banks and then we would +skim clear across that little pond’s frozen surface just as swift as a +bird would skim through the air. + +Sometimes a thick frost would come in the night-time. The next morning a +fine blue haze would be in the air and everything would be clothed in +soft white frost-furs. As the sun rose higher and higher we would watch +to see the trees and bushes grow warm in the sunshine and throw off +their furs. Then we would try and catch those soft furs as they fell. +But if caught they melted quickly away. + +If the surface of the snow hardened enough so that we could walk on the +crust without breaking through, our happiness was complete. High hills +were all about us, and it seemed to us as if every shining hill would +say if it could, “Come and slide!” + +And O, the happy hours that we have had with our clumsy old sled! Away +we would go, the wind stinging our faces until crimson roses blossomed +in our cheeks, and the shining crust snapping and creaking under our +sled, and the hill flying away behind us! + +If a damp clinging snow came, it made lovely snowballs; and it was such +fun to catch hold of the long clothes-lines and shake them and see +little clumps of snow hop like rabbits from the line into the air. + +And if instead of warmth, and great damp feathery snowflakes, there came +a bitter wind and an icy sleet that froze as it fell—what then? Never +mind! Sunrise would set the whole world a-sparkle. Every tree and bush +would be gay with splendid ice-jewels! And in the great shining ice +palace, we could run and laugh and shout, watching the ice-jewels loosen +and fall, all day long. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: “AWAY WE WOULD GO!”] + + + + +[Illustration] + + _GRAN’MA GRACIE._ + + +It was Uncle George who called her “Gran’ma” when she was only six, and +by the time she was seven everybody had taken to the name, and she +answered to it as a matter of course. + +Why did he call her so? Because she was such a prim, staid, serious, +little old-fashioned body, and consequently her mother laughingly took +to dressing her in an old-fashioned way, so that at last, whether she +was out in the grounds, or round by the stables with Grant, in her +figured pink dress, red sash, long gloves, and sun-bonnet, looking after +her pets, or indoors of an evening, in her yellow brocade, muslin +apron—with pockets, of course, and quaint mob cap tied up with its +ribbon—she always looked serious and grandmotherly. + +“It is her nature to,” Uncle George said, quoting from “Let dogs +delight;” and when he laughed at her, Gran’ma used to look at him +wonderingly in the most quaint way, and then put her hand in his, and +ask him to take her for a walk. + +Gran’ma lived in a roomy old house with a delightful garden, surrounded +by a very high red-brick wall that was covered in the spring with white +blossoms, and in the autumn with peaches with red cheeks that laughed at +her and imitated hers; purple plums covered with bloom, and other plums +that looked like drops of gold among the green leaves; and these used to +get so ripe and juicy in the hot sun, that they would crack and peer out +at her as if asking to be eaten before they fell down and wasted their +rich honey juice on the ground. Then there were great lumbering looking +pears which worried John, the gardener, because they grew so heavy that +they tore the nails out of the walls, and had to be fastened up +again—old John giving Gran’ma the shreds to hold while he went up the +ladder with his hammer, and a nail in his mouth. + +That garden was Gran’ma’s world, it was so big; and on fine mornings she +could be seen seriously wandering about with Dinnywinkle, her little +sister, up this way, down that, under the apple-trees, along the +gooseberry and currant alleys, teaching her and Grant that it was not +proper to go on the beds when there were plenty of paths, and somehow +Dinnywinkle, who was always bubbling over with fun, did as the serious +little thing told her in the most obedient of ways, and helped her to +scold Grant, who was much harder to teach. + +[Illustration] + +For Grant, whose papa was a setter, and mamma a very lady-like +retriever, always had ideas in his head that there were wild beasts +hiding in the big garden, and as soon as his collar was unfastened, and +he was taken down the grounds for a run, he seemed to run mad. His ears +went up, his tail began to wave, and he dashed about frantically to hunt +for those imaginary wild beasts. He barked till he was hoarse sometimes, +when after a good deal of rushing about he made a discovery, and would +then look up triumphantly at Gran’ma, and point at his find with his +nose, till she came up to see what he had discovered. One time it would +be a snail, at another a dead mouse killed by the cat, and not eaten +because it was a shrew. Upon one occasion, when the children ran up, it +was to find the dog half wild as he barked to them to come and see what +he was holding down under his paw,—this proving to be an unfortunate +frog which uttered a dismal squeal from time to time till Gran’ma set it +at liberty, so that it could make long hops into a bed of ivy, where it +lived happily long afterwards, to sit there on soft wet nights under a +big leaf like an umbrella, and softly whistle the frog song which ends +every now and then in a croak. + +Grant was always obedient when he was caught, and then he would walk +steadily along between Gran’ma and Dinny, each holding one of his long +silky ears, with the prisoner making no effort to escape. + +But the job was to catch him; and on these occasions Gran’ma used to run +and run fast, while Dinny ran in another direction to cut Grant off. + +[Illustration] + +And a pretty chase he led them, letting them get close up, and then +giving a joyous bark and leaping sidewise, to dash off in quite a fresh +direction. Here he would perhaps hide, crouching down under one of the +shrubs, ready to pounce out on his pursuers, and then dash away again, +showing his teeth as if he were laughing, and in his frantic delight +waltzing round and round after his tail. Then away he would bound on to +the closely shaven lawn, throw himself down, roll over and over, and set +Dinny laughing and clapping her hands to see him play one of his +favorite tricks, which was to lay his nose down close to the grass, +first on one side and then on the other, pushing it along as if it was a +plough, till he sprang up and stood barking and wagging his tail, as +much as to say, “What do you think of that for a game?” ending by +running helter-skelter after a blackbird which flew away, crying +“Chink—chink—chink.” + +That was a famous old wilderness of a place, with great stables and +out-houses, where there was bright golden straw, and delicious +sweet-scented hay, and in one place a large bin with a lid, and +half-full of oats, with which Gran’ma used to fill a little +cross-handled basket. + +“Now, Grant,” she cried, as she shut down the lid, after refusing to let +Dinny stand in the bin and pour oats over her head and down her +back—“Now, Grant!” + +“Wuph!” said Grant, and he took hold of the basket in his teeth, and +trotted on with it before her round the corner, to stop before the +hutches that stood outside in the sun. + +Here, if Dinny was what Gran’ma called “a good girl,” she had a treat. +For this was where the rabbits lived. + +Old Brownsmith sent those rabbits, hutch and all, as a present for +Gran’ma, one day when John went to the market garden with his barrow to +fetch what he called some “plarnts;” and when he came back with the +barred hutch, and set the barrow down in the walk, mamma went out with +Gran’ma and Dinny, to look at them, and Grant came up growling, sniffed +all round the hutch before giving a long loud bark, which, being put +into plain English, meant, “Open the door, and I’ll kill all the lot.” + +“I don’t know what to say, John,” said mamma, shaking her head. “It is +very kind of Mr. Brownsmith, but I don’t think your master will like the +children to keep them, for fear they should be neglected and die.” + +“’Gleckted?” said old John, rubbing one ear. “What! little miss here +’gleck ’em? Not she. You’ll feed them rabbuds reg’lar, miss, wontcher?” + +Gran’ma said she would, and the hutch was wheeled round by the stables, +Grant following and looking very much puzzled, for though he never +hunted the cats now, rabbits did seem the right things to kill. + +But Gran’ma soon taught him better, and he became the best of friends +with Brown Downie and her two children, Bunny and White Paws. + +In fact, one day there was a scene, for Cook rushed into the schoolroom +during lesson time, out of breath with excitement. + +“Please’m, I went down the garden, ’m, to get some parsley, and that +horrid dog’s hunting the rabbits, and killing ’em.” + +There was a cry from both children, and Gran’ma rushed out and round to +the stables, to find the hutch door unfastened, and the rabbits gone, +while, as she turned back to the house with the tears running down her +cheeks, who should come trotting up but Grant, with his ears cocked, and +Bunny hanging from his jaws as if dead. + +Gran’ma uttered a cry; and as Mamma came up with Dinny, the dog set the +little rabbit down, looked up and barked, and Bunny began loping off to +nibble the flowers, not a bit the worse, while Grant ran and turned him +back with his nose, for Gran’ma to catch the little thing up in her +arms. + +Grant barked excitedly, and ran down the garden again, the whole party +following, and in five minutes he had caught White Paw. + +Dinny had the carrying of this truant, and with another bark, Grant +dashed in among the gooseberry bushes, where there was a great deal of +rustling, a glimpse of something brown, and then of a white cottony +tail. Then in spite of poor Grant getting his nose pricked with the +thorns, Brown Downie was caught and held by her ears till mamma lifted +her up, and she was carried in triumph back, Grant trotting on before, +and leading the way to the stable-yard and the hutch, turning round +every now and then to bark. + +The rabbits did not get out again, and every morning and evening they +were fed as regularly as Gran’ma fed herself. + +On reaching the hutch, Grant set the basket down, leaving the handle +rather wet, though he could easily have wiped it with his ears, and then +he sat down in a dreamy way, half closing his eyes and possibly thinking +about wild rabbits on heaths where he could hunt them through furze +bushes, while Gran’ma in the most serious way possible opened the hutch +door. + +[Illustration] + +There was no difficulty about catching White Paw, for he was ready +enough to thrust his nose into his little mistress’s hand, and be lifted +out by his ears, and held for Dinny to stroke. + +“Now let me take him,” she cried. + +“No, my dear, you are too young yet,” said Gran’ma; and Dinny had to be +content with smoothing down White Paw’s soft brown fur, as it nestled up +against its mistress’s breast, till it was put back kicking, and +evidently longing to escape from its wooden-barred prison, even if it +was to be hunted by Grant. + +Then Bunny had his turn, and was duly lifted out and smoothed; after +which, Brown Downie, who was too heavy to lift, gave the floor of the +hutch a sharp rap with one foot, making Grant lift his ear and utter a +deep sigh. + +“No,” he must have thought; “it’s very tempting, but I must not seize +her by the back and give her a shake.” + +Then the trough was filled with oats, the door fastened, and the girls +looked on as three noses were twitched and screwed about, and a low +munching sound arose. + +Three rabbits and a dog! Enough pets for any girl, my reader; but +Gran’ma had another—Buzz, a round, soft-furred kitten with about as much +fun in it as could be squeezed into so small a body. But Buzz had a +temper, possibly soured by jealousy of Grant, whom he utterly detested. + +Buzz’s idea of life was to be always chasing something,—his tail, a +shadow, the corner of the table-cover, or his mistress’s dress. He liked +to climb, too, on to tables, up the legs, into the coal-scuttle, behind +the sideboard, and above all, up the curtains, so as to turn the +looped-up part into a hammock, and sleep there for hours. Anywhere +forbidden to a respectable kitten was Buzz’s favorite spot, and +especially inside the fender, where the blue tiles at the back reflected +the warmth of the fire, and the brown tiles of the hearth were so bright +that he could see other kittens in them, and play with them, dabbing at +them with his velvet paw. + +Buzz had been dragged out from that forbidden ground by his hind leg, +and by the loose skin at the back of his neck, and he had been punished +again and again, but still he would go, and strange to say, he took a +fancy to rub himself up against the upright brass dogs from the tip of +his nose to the end of his tail, and then repeat it on the other side. + +But Gran’ma’s pet did not trespass without suffering for it. Both his +whiskers were singed off close, and there was a brown, rough, +ill-smelling bit at the end of his tail where, in turning round, he had +swept it amongst the glowing cinders, giving him so much pain that he +uttered a loud “Mee-yow!” and bounded out of the room, looking up at +Gran’ma the while as if he believed that she had served him like that. + +[Illustration] + +In Gran’ma’s very small old-fashioned way, one of her regular duties was +to get papa’s blue cloth fur-lined slippers, and put them against the +fender to warm every night, ready for him when he came back tired from +London; and no sooner were those slippers set down to toast, than Buzz, +who had been watching attentively, went softly from his cushion where he +had been pretending to be asleep, but watching all the time with one +eye, and carefully packed himself in a slipper, thrusting his nose well +down, drawing his legs right under him, and snoozling up so compactly +that he exactly fitted it, and seemed part of a fur cushion made in the +shape of a shoe. + +But Buzz was not allowed to enjoy himself in that fashion for long. No +sooner did Gran’ma catch sight of what he had done than she got up, went +to the fireplace, gravely lifted the slipper, and poured Buzz out on to +the hearth-rug, replaced the slipper where it would warm, and went back, +to find, five minutes later, that the kitten had fitted himself into the +other slipper, with only his back visible, ready to be poured out again. +Then, in a half-sulky, cattish way, Buzz would go and seat himself on +his square cushion, and watch, while, to guard them from any more such +intrusions, Gran’ma picked up the slippers and held them to her breast +until such time as her father came home. + +Those were joyous times at the old house, till one day there was a +report spread in the village that little Gran’ma was ill. The doctor’s +carriage was seen every day at the gate, and then twice a day, and there +were sorrow and despair where all had been so happy. Dinny went alone +with Grant to feed the rabbits; and there were no more joyous rushes +round the garden, for the dog would lie down on the doorstep with his +head between his paws, and watch there all day, and listen for the quiet +little footstep that never came. Every day old John, the gardener, +brought up a bunch of flowers for the little child lying fevered and +weak, with nothing that would cool her burning head, and three anxious +faces were constantly gazing for the change that they prayed might come. + +For the place seemed no longer the same without those pattering feet. +Cook had been found crying in a chair in the kitchen; and when asked +why, she said it was because Grant had howled in the night, and she knew +now that dear little Gran’ma would never be seen walking so sedately +round the garden again. + +It was of no use to tell her that Grant had howled because he was +miserable at not seeing his little mistress: she said she knew better. + +“Don’t tell me,” she cried; “look at him.” And she pointed to where the +dog had just gone down to the gate, for a carriage had stopped, and the +dog, after meeting the doctor, walked up behind him to the house, waited +till he came out, and then walked down behind him to the gate, saw him +go, and came back to lie down in his old place on the step, with his +head between his paws. + +They said that they could not get Grant to eat, and it was quite true, +for the little hands which fed him were not there; and the house was +very mournful and still, even Dinny having ceased to shout and laugh, +for they told her she must be very quiet, because Gran’ma was so ill. + +From that hour Dinny went about the place like a mouse, and her favorite +place was on the step by Grant, who, after a time, took to laying his +head in her lap, and gazing up at her with his great brown eyes. + +And they said that Gran’ma knew no one now, but lay talking quickly +about losing the rabbits and about Dinny and Grant; and then there came +a day when she said nothing, but lay very still as if asleep. + +[Illustration] + +That night as the doctor was going, he said softly that he could do no +more, but that those who loved the little quiet child must pray to God +to spare her to them; and that night, too, while tears were falling +fast, and there seemed to be no hope, Grant, in his loneliness and +misery, did utter a long, low, mournful howl. + +But next morning, after a weary night, those who watched saw the bright +glow of returning day lighting up the eastern sky, and the sun had not +long risen before Gran’ma woke as if from a long sleep, looked up in her +mother’s eyes as if she knew her once more, and the great time of peril +was at an end. + +All through the worst no hands but her mother’s had touched her; but now +a nurse was brought in to help—a quiet, motherly, North-country woman +who one day stood at the door, and held up her hands in astonishment, +for she had been busy down-stairs for an hour, and now that she had +returned there was a great reception on the bed: Buzz was seated on the +pillow purring; the rabbits all three were playing at the bed being a +warren, and loping in and out from the valance; Grant was seated on a +chair with his head close up to his mistress’s breast; and Dinny was +reading aloud from a picture storybook like this, but the book was +upside down, and she invented all she said. + +“Bless the bairn! what does this mean?” cried nurse. + +It meant that Dinny had brought up all Gran’ma’s friends, and that the +poor child was rapidly getting well. + + + + +[Illustration] + + The Sunshine Corner + + +Miss Myrtle read to the children this afternoon an Account sent by her +married cousin, Mrs. Pingry. Mrs. Pingry wrote: “I spell it with a big +A, just for fun, because it is of so small a matter, but it was a +sunshiny matter for it caused some smiling, and it brought out real +kindness from several persons. + +“Mr. Pingry goes in on the 8.17 train and attends to his furnace the +last thing, allowing twelve minutes to reach the station. When about +half-way there, yesterday, it occurred to him that he forgot to shut the +drafts. Just then he met Jerry Snow, the man at the Binney place, and +asked him to please call round our way, and ask for Mrs. Pingry, and say +Mr. Pingry had left the drafts open. Jerry said he would after going to +the post-office, but Mr. Pingry, fearing Jerry might forget, called +hastily at the door of Madam Morey, an elderly woman who does plain +sewing, and said he forgot to shut the furnace drafts; if she should see +a boy passing would she ask him to call at our door, and ask for Mrs. +Pingry, and tell her? Madam said she would be on the lookout for a boy, +while doing her baking. + +“Now as Mr. Pingry was hurrying on, it came to him that he had not yet +made a sure thing of it, and at that moment he saw the woman who does +chore-work at the Binney’s, coming by a path across the field. He met +her at the fence, and asked if she would go around by our house and say +to Mrs. Pingry that Mr. Pingry had left the drafts all open. She agreed, +and Mr. Pingry ran to his train, a happy man. + +“Now Madam Morey felt anxious about the furnace, and stepped often to +the window, and at last spied a small boy with a sled, and finding he +knew where we live, told him Mr. Pingry went away and forgot to shut the +furnace drafts and wished to send back word, and would the boy coast +down that way and tell Mrs. Pingry? The boy promised, and coasted down +the hill. + +“Madam Morey still felt uneasy about the furnace, and not being sure the +boy would do the errand kept on the watch for another; and when the +banana-man stopped and made signs at her window ‘would she buy?’ she +wrote a few words on a bit of brown paper and went with him far enough +to point out the house and made signs, ‘would he leave the paper there?’ +He made signs ‘yes?’ and passed on. + +“Now at about half-past eight, our front doorbell rang and I heard a +call for me. I hurried down, and received the chore-woman’s message and +acted upon it at once. + +“Sometime afterwards, as I was in the back-chamber, I heard voices +outside and saw six or eight small boys trying to pull their sleds over +a fence, and wondered how they happened to be coasting in such a place. +Presently I heard a commotion on the other side and went to the front +windows. All the sleds were drawn up near the steps, and the small boys +were stamping around like an army come to take the house. Seeing me they +all shouted something at me. They seemed so terribly in earnest, and +came in such a strange way, that I flew down, sure something dreadful +had happened—perhaps Willy was drowned! and I began to tremble. At sight +of me at the door they all shouted again, but I did not understand. I +caught hold of the biggest boy and pulled him inside, and said to him, +in a low, tremulous voice, ‘Tell me! What is it?’ He answered, in a +bashful way, ‘Mr. Pingry said he left the drafts open.’ ‘Thank you all!’ +I said. + +“Next, the banana-man, bobbing his head, and making signs, though I +shook my head ‘no.’ Finally up came Bridget with a slip of brown paper +having written on it, but no name signed: ‘Your furnace drafts are +open.’ Such a shout as went up from us! + +“Grand company coming, I guess! exclaimed my sister, a short time +afterwards. Sure enough there stood a carriage and span. Jerry Snow, it +seems, forgot our furnace until he went to look at his own. He was then +just about to take Mrs. Binney out for an airing. He mentioned it to her +and she had him drive round with the message. + +“By this time we were ready to go off, explode, shout, giggle, at the +approach of any one; and when Madam Morey stepped up on our piazza we +bent ourselves double with laughter, and my sister went down upon the +floor all in a heap, saying, ‘Do—you—suppose—she—comes—for that?’ + +“Even so. She had worried, thinking the hot pipes might heat the +woodwork, and half-expected to hear the cry of ‘fire!’ and bells +ringing, and could not sit still in her chair, and in the goodness of +her heart she left her work and came all the way over! + +“Oh! we had fun with Mr. Pingry that evening. But now, my dear Miss +Myrtle, the funniest part of all was that Mr. Pingry did not forget to +shut the drafts!” + + _Miss Fillissy-Follissy._ + + + + + A SLUMBER SONG. + + +[Music] + + 1. Sleep, oh sleep, my lambs a-wea-ry! Shin-ing sun-beams all are o’er; + ’Tis the time when lit-tle children Sail a-way to slum-ber shore. + + 2. Glid-ing, glid-ing to the mu-sic Of a ten-der, tender lulla-by + Gent-ly drift the lads and lass-es When the stars come out on high. + + 3. Soft-ly to the swaying grass-es Fall the gracious drops of dew; + Yet more soft-ly at the gloaming Close the bairn-ies’ eyes of blue. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + + THE GROCER’S BOY. + + +Sammy Swattles wasn’t a bad boy, you understand; he was simply +thoughtless. He thoughtlessly did things which robbed him of peace of +mind for some time after he did them. + +When Sammy was ten years old he had to leave school, to go to work for +Mr. Greens, the grocer, in order to help support his mother. + +He did a great many things for the grocer, from seven o’clock in the +morning till six at night, but his principal work was to place large +paper bags on the scales and fill them with flour from the barrel. + +When the bag weighed twenty-three pounds, Sammy had to seal it up and +take it to the family it was ordered for. The grocer allowed him two +cents for every bag he carried, over and above his wages, which were +$2.50 per week. Some weeks Sammy made over $3.00 which helped his mother +to run their little house quite comfortably. + +Now, Sammy, in his thoughtlessness, used to sample quite a good deal of +the grocer’s preserved ginger. Every time he would pass the tin boxes of +ginger, he would thoughtlessly take a piece, and it would disappear in +the recesses of Sammy’s rosy mouth. + +One night, after he had locked up all but the front door of the store, +he helped himself to quite a large piece of the ginger, and walked home. + +He did not care for any supper that night. He felt as if bed was the +best place for his troubled little stomach. + +He hadn’t been in bed two minutes when a little fierce man, with a white +cloth round his black body and a huge grin on his ebony face, bounded +into his room. + +With a scream Sammy leaped out of bed and bounded out of the window. +With a yell the Indian was after him. Sammy flew down the road like a +runaway colt, the black man in his rear yelling like thunder and lions. +Sammy never ran so fast in his life, but the little black man gained on +him, and finally caught him! + +Sammy pleaded hard to be spared to his mother, but the little man grimly +took him by the collar, and with one leap landed him on the island of +Ceylon, in the Indian Ocean, at a place called Kandy. Then he led Sammy +out into the country, and blew a whistle. In an instant they were +surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of men, women and boys, all as black +as Sammy’s captor. Sammy cried: + +“What have I done! what have I done!” and they all cried: + +“You have taken the ginger that we have gathered by hard work, without +permission, and you are condemned to live here for the rest of your life +on ginger alone!” + +Then Sammy began to cry real hard, for he thought of his poor mother, +off there in Massachusetts, wondering day after day, “What has become of +my Sammy!” + +And then to be compelled to eat nothing but ginger all his life! It was +awful! He already hated ginger. He looked so woebegone that they all +cried: + +“If you will promise to be good, and think before you do things, we will +let you go! But if you don’t keep your promise we’ll get you again, and +then, look out!” + +So Sammy promised, and ran for home. But the black people seemed to +regret having let him off so easily, and they all came trooping after +him! + +You should have seen Sammy run! He went over through India, and across +Afghanistan, Persia and Turkey like a streak of lightning! He plunged +into the Mediterranean and swam across to Italy. From Italy he swam to +Spain; and across Spain, from Tarragona to Cape Finisterre, he ran like +the Rapids of the River St. Lawrence, the black people at his heels! + +He was almost exhausted as he dove off Cape Finisterre into the broad +Atlantic, and he would have sunk down deep, for fifteen or twenty miles, +if a friendly dolphin hadn’t come along and invited him to ride on its +shiny back! + +The black men gave up the chase then, and the dolphin swam over to +Massachusetts Bay, up Boston Harbor, to the Charles River, to the bridge +by Sammy’s home. There the dolphin said good-by, told Sammy to always be +a good boy, and then, with a flip of its tail, it rushed down the +river—and Sammy awoke! + +It had all been a dream, of course; but it cured Sammy of +thoughtlesness, and nobody ever had cause again to say that Sammy +Swattles wasn’t all a nice little boy should be. He told his employer +all about it, and his employer said: “Well, be a good boy, and never do +anything without thinking of whether it’s right or wrong to do it.” + + _John Ernest McCann._ + + + + + AN ABSENT-MINDED MAN. + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + He lit a candle for young Ted. + This absent minded man. + —Twas time to send the boy to bed— + But something else came in his head, + Some problem or some plan. + + ◼ + + His thoughts were miles and miles away, + But still the taper there, + While he was thinking, seemed to say, + “Bed! Bed! I’ll burn out if I stay!” + And scolded with its glare. + + ● + + And so he took Ted’s candle light + —Ted grinned, the little elf— + And bade, with manner most polite, + His son a very sweet good-night, + And went to bed himself. + + ◻ + + + + +[Illustration: Good King Grin. KING GRIN PRINCE LAUGH] + + Good King Grin. + + +[Illustration: THE JESTER.] + + There is a King in Nonsense Land + Whose castle, neither tall nor grand, + Is gaily perched upon a hill + Behind the town of Jolliville. + A spangled jester lets you in— + Whoever calls on good King Grin. + +[Illustration: “QUITE BALD.”] + + His height in feet is only four; + Around his waist is one foot more; + His mouth is wide; his eyes are twinkles + Half hidden in a net of wrinkles; + His beard is red; his hair is thin— + In fact, quite bald is good King Grin. + +[Illustration: PRINCESS GIGGLE.] + + His family—beneath the sun + You never saw a happier one: + The good Queen Smile, so fair to see; + Prince Laugh, the heir-apparent he; + And Princess Giggle’s baby din— + Is life and joy to good King Grin. + + Three ministers of state has he: + Prime Minister is Pleasantry; + In Foreign Matters, great and small, + Good-Nature ministers to all; + And Cheerfulness, when bills come in, + Is Treasurer to good King Grin. + +[Illustration: Ministers of State] + + His courser is a palfry stout, + And when the good king rides about, + The very babies crow for joy: + From peasant-man and peasant-boy, + From landed knight and all his kin, + Arise one cry: “Long live King Grin.” + +[Illustration: _Ralph Bergengren._] + + + + + _A Funny Twin Brother_ + + +Last sum-mer when we were in the coun-try hav-ing a hap-py ho-li-day, we +of-ten went in-to the hay-field, and you lit-tle ones may fan-cy the fun +we had. John-ny and Lil-ly rolled in the sweet fresh hay, and were +bu-ried and came up a-gain ma-ny and ma-ny a time; and just when we +thought there was not a bit of chub-by child to be seen, a round red +laugh-ing face would peep out, fol-lowed by a sort of wind-mill of arms +and legs. + +It was on a bright sum-mer’s day in that hay-field that we met Tim and +his lit-tle mis-tress. “Who was Tim?” you say. Well, Tim was a don-key, +and such a hap-py pet-ted don-key has sel-dom been seen be-fore. +Liz-zy—the lit-tle girl you see in the pic-ture—was the far-mer’s +daugh-ter, and as she led Tim round her fa-ther’s field, she picked up +the sweet hay and fed him with it. + +When Tim and lit-tle Liz-zy came near us, we all went up to pat the +don-key: then the lit-tle girl told us how good and gen-tle her Tim was. +“We are very luc-ky to have such a good don-key,” said she. + +“And I think he is luc-ky to have such a good lit-tle mis-tress,” said +I. + +“Oh, but he be-longs to us all,” an-swered the child, “and there are six +of us; we all feed and pet him. My father bought him when he was quite +lit-tle. He is five years old now; just the same age as my lit-tle +bro-ther Willy. So he is his Twin Bro-ther you see,” ad-ded Liz-zy +grave-ly. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + + +[Illustration] + + SAM ON THE KITCHEN FUNNEL BLEW, + THE DINNER-BELL JANE RANG; + THE BELLOWS MADE A NICE GUITAR, + MIN PLAYED WHILE ALICE SANG. + + TOM CAME TO HEAR US, TABBY TOO, + WHO BROUGHT HER KITTENS THREE; + AND ALSO FLORA WITH HER PUP; + WE LET THEM ALL IN—FREE! + +[Illustration: _S Birch_] + + +[Illustration] + + TO + WEE PEOPLE + WHO MAKE HOME + HAPPY WITH ARTLESS + PRATTLE AND MERRY + PLAY, THIS BOOK IS + LOVINGLY + DEDICATED. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. + 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. + 3. 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-
-<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Little Tot’s Own Book, by Anonymous</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>
-
-<table style='min-width:0; padding:0; margin-left:0; border-collapse:collapse'>
- <tr><td>Title:</td><td>Our Little Tot’s Own Book</td></tr>
- <tr><td></td><td>of Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and Jingles</td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Anonymous</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 17, 2021 [eBook #65368]</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: Richard Tonsing, Juliet Sutherland, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net</div>
-
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK ***</div>
-
-<div class='tnotes covernote'>
-
-<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/illus001.jpg' alt=' “What do they say in Baby-land?” “Why, the oddest things; Might as well Try to tell What a birdie sings!”' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/illus002.jpg' alt=' BABY-LAND. “How many miles to Baby-land?” “Any one can tell; Up one flight, To your right: Please to ring the bell.” “What do they do in Baby-land?” “Dream and wake and play; Laugh and crow, Shout and grow: Happy times have they!”' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id003'>
-<img src='images/illus005.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='titlepage'>
-
-<div>
- <h1 class='c001'>OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK<br /> <span class='small'>OF</span><br /> <span class='large'><i>Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and Jingles</i>.</span></h1>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>NEW YORK:</div>
- <div><span class='xlarge'>HURST & COMPANY,</span></div>
- <div>PUBLISHERS.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='box'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c003'>
- <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1912</span></div>
- <div><span class='small'>—BY—</span></div>
- <div><span class='small'>HURST & COMPANY</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'><i><span class='small'>There was once a very happy little girl who spent her childhood on an old green farm.
-She had a little sister, and these two children never knew what it was to possess toys from
-the stores, but played, played, played from dawn till dark, just in the play-places they found
-on that green farmstead. I so often have to tell my children “how mama used to play”—for
-I was that very happy little girl—that I think other “little women” of these days will
-enjoy knowing about those dear old simple play-times.</span></i></p>
-
-<h3 class='c006'>I.—THE LITTLE STUMP-HOUSE.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>One of my pet playhouses was an old stump, out in the pasture.
-Such a dear, old stump as it was, and so large I could not put
-my arms more than half way round it!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Some of its roots were partly bare of earth for quite a little distance
-from the stump, and between these roots were great green
-velvety moss cushions.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>On the side, above the largest moss cushion, was a little shelf where
-a bit of the stump had fallen away. On this little shelf I used to
-place a little old brass candlestick. I used to play that that part of
-the stump was my parlor.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Above the next moss cushion were a number of shelves where I laid
-pieces of dark-blue broken china I had found and washed clean in the
-brook. That was my dining-room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>There were two or three little bedrooms where the puffy moss beds
-were as soft as down. My rag dolly had many a nap on those little
-green beds, all warmly covered up with big sweet-smelling ferns.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then there was the kitchen! Hardly any moss grew there. I
-brought little white pebbles from the brook, and made a pretty, white
-floor. Into the side of the stump above this shining floor, I drove a
-large nail. On this nail hung the little tin pan and iron spoon with
-which I used to mix up my mud pies.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>My sister had a stump much like mine, and such fine times as the
-owners of those two little stump-houses used to have together, only
-little children know anything about.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id004'>
-<img src='images/illus009.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>THE STUMP PLAY-HOUSE.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id005'>
-<img src='images/illus010a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>THE STOLEN LITTLE ONE.<br /> <span class='large'>A TRUE STORY.</span></h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='figleft id006'>
-<img src='images/illus010b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Two little girls went shopping with their mamma. While she
-was at the end of the store, Julie, the youngest, ran to the door.
-Her mother was too busy to notice her, but Julie’s sister Mattie was
-watching her. She saw
-a tall woman pass the
-door, and snatch up little
-Julie. Without a word
-to her mother, Mattie ran
-after them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Away they went down
-the street. The woman
-would soon have outrun
-Mattie, but her screams
-attracted the attention of
-a policeman. He followed
-too. They came
-up with the woman as she
-was darting into a cellar. Mattie told the policeman that the bad
-woman had stolen her sister Julie. He soon took both children
-home. Their mother was overjoyed to see them, and praised Mattie
-for being such a brave little girl. She never let Julie go out of her
-sight again, when she took her out on the street.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'>PINK HUNTER.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>II.-THE OLD APPLE-TREE.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>There was an old apple-tree in the orchard that was the oldest
-tree in the town. It overtopped the house, and the trunk was
-very big and brown and rough; but O, the millions of fine green leaves,
-as soft and smooth as silk, that it held up in the summer air!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>In the spring it was gay with pink and white blossoms, and then
-for days the tree would be all alive with the great, black-belted bees.
-A little later those sweet blossoms would fall off in a rosy rain, and
-Myra and I would stand under the old apple-tree and try to catch the
-little, fluttering things in our apron! And then, later still, came little
-apples, very sour at first, but slowly sweetening until it seemed to me
-that those juicy, golden-green apples tasted the best of any fruit in all
-the world! My apron-pockets were always bursting with them!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>There was a famous horse up in the old tree. It could only be
-reached by means of a ladder placed against the old tree’s stout trunk!
-A strange horse, you would call him, but O, the famous rides that I
-have had on that horse’s broad, brown back! The name of the horse
-was “General.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Up among the leaves where the sunshine played hide-and-seek was
-one dear bough that was just broad enough and just crooked enough
-to form a nice seat. Another bough bent round just in the very place
-to form a most comfortable back to that seat. A pair of stirrups made
-of rope, some rope reins tied to the trunk of the tree, and there was
-my horse, “all saddled and all bridled!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>I put my feet into the stirrups, shake my bridle-reins and cry,
-“Get up, General!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The bough would sway a little, and I and the birds would be off
-together, swinging and singing, up in a fair green world where there
-was no one to disturb nest or little rider! The birds would sing to me,
-and I would sing to them, and which of those little singers was the
-happiest, I do not know!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But I do know that my little heart was full of glee and joy to the
-brim!</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id007'>
-<img src='images/illus012.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>RIDING “GENERAL.”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id008'>
-<img src='images/illus013.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>SHE WISHED TO BE A PRINCESS.<br /> <span class='large'><i>A True Story.</i></span></h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Little Mary had had a volume of Hans Andersen’s Fairy Stories
-given her at Christmas. The story she liked best was “The
-Princess and the Pea,” for, like all little girls, little Mary had a natural
-desire to be a Princess.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When she went to bed at night with her doll little Mary would
-think to herself, “Oh, how beautiful to be a real princess of such very
-fine blood as to feel a little bit of a pea under twenty mattresses!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>One morning a comforting idea came to little Mary. “Who
-knows,” she said to herself, “with all my very many great grandfathers
-and grandmothers, but p’raps I am related to some King or
-Queen way back?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Thereupon, she went to her mother’s pantry and took a bean from
-the jar—as large a one as she could find—and, going to her room,
-put it carefully under the hair mattress. That night she went to bed
-happy, with joyful hopes.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>In the morning little Mary’s elder sister found her with her head
-buried in her pillow crying. “Oh,” little Mary sobbed, “I did think
-I might have just a little speck of royal blood in my veins, but I
-couldn’t feel even that big bean under just one mattress!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Nothing would comfort little Mary until her mama explained to
-her that even princesses were not happy unless they had good hearts;
-and <i>she</i> could have, if she tried, just as good and royal a heart as any
-Princess under the sun.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Anne Fiske Davenport.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>III.—THE LITTLE POND.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>Out in the pasture, was a little pond. This little pond was quite
-deep in the time of the spring and autumn rains. At such
-seasons Myra and I would take our little raft made of boards, and by
-means of some stout sticks would push the raft around on that little
-pond for hours. The wind would raise little waves, and these waves
-would splash up against the sides of our little raft with a delicious sort
-of noise.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>We used to dress a smooth stick of wood in doll’s clothes. We
-used to call this wooden dolly by the name of Mrs. Pippy. We would
-take Mrs. Pippy on board our ship as passenger. Somehow, Mrs.
-Pippy always contrived to fall overboard. And then, such screaming,
-such frantic pushing of that raft as there would he, before that calmly-floating
-Mrs. Pippy was rescued!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Just beyond the further edge of the pond was a little swampy
-place where great clumps of sweet-flag used to grow. Sweet-flag is a
-water-plant whose leaves are very long and slender and their stem-ends,
-where they wrap about each other, are good to eat. In summer
-this little sweet-flag swamp was perfectly dry. But when the rains
-had come and the little pond was full, this little sweet-flag swamp was
-covered with water.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Right between the pond and the swamp lay a big timber, stretching
-away like a narrow bridge, with the pond-water lapping it on one
-side and the swamp-water lapping it on the other. Such exciting times
-as we used to have running across that little bridge after sweet-flag!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Run! run!” we would cry to each other; and then, away we
-would go, running like the wind, yet very carefully, for the least misstep
-was sure to plump us into the water!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the water in the swamp had nearly dried up, a bed of the
-very nicest kind of mud was left. Taking off our shoes and stockings,
-we would dance in that sticky mud until we were tired. Then we
-would hop over the timber and wash our small toes clean in the pond.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'><i>Clever Tommy.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figleft id009'>
-<img src='images/illus015.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>“You like clever cats, Arthur,”
-said Laura; “and I
-am sure this is one. See how
-funnily he is drinking the
-milk with his paw. Did you
-know this cat, mamma?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, my dear, I was
-staying at the house when
-his mistress found him out.
-We used to wonder sometimes
-why there was so little
-milk for tea, and my
-friend would say ‘They
-must drink it in the kitchen,
-for the neck of the milk
-jug is so narrow, Tom could
-not get his great head in.’</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But Tom was too clever
-to be troubled at the narrow
-neck of the milk or cream
-jug, and one day when his
-mistress was coming towards the parlor through the garden, she saw Tom
-on the table from the window, dipping his paw into the jug like a spoon
-and carrying the milk to his mouth. Did he not jump down quickly, and
-hide himself when she walked in, for he well knew he was doing wrong.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And was he punished, mamma?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No, Laura, although his mistress scolded him well, and Tom quite
-understood, for cats who are kindly treated are afraid of angry words.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Did you ever see Tom drink the milk in this way?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, for his mistress was proud of his cleverness, and she would
-place the jug on the floor for him. When she did that, Tom knew he
-might drink it, and he would take up the milk in his paw so cleverly
-that it was soon gone.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id010'>
-<img src='images/illus016.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>FLOWERS.</h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='c011'>H</span>ow stilly, yet how sweetly,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>The little while they bloom,</div>
- <div class='line'>They teach us quiet trustfulness,</div>
- <div class='line'>Allure our hearts from selfishness,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>And smile away our gloom:</div>
- <div class='line'>So do they prove that heavenly love</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Doth every path illume!</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>How stilly, yet how sadly,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>When summer fleeteth by,</div>
- <div class='line'>And their sweet work of life is done,</div>
- <div class='line'>They fall and wither, one by one,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>And undistinguish’d lie:</div>
- <div class='line'>So warning all that Pride must fall,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>And fairest forms must die!</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>How stilly, yet how surely,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>They all will come again,</div>
- <div class='line'>In life and glory multiplied,</div>
- <div class='line'>To bless the ground wherein they died,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>And long have darkly lain:—</div>
- <div class='line'>So we may know, e’en here below,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Death has no lasting reign!</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>IV.—THE LITTLE BROOK.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>We had a merry playmate in a little brook that ran down through
-the sunny meadows! It slipped and slid over little mossy
-pebbles and called to us, “Follow, follow, follow!” in the sweetest
-little voice in the world!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sometimes, I would kneel down on the little low bank, and bend my
-head down close, and ask, “Where are you going, little brook?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It would splash a cool drop of spray in my face, and run on calling,
-“Follow, follow, follow!” just as before.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Wild strawberries grew red and sweet down in the tall grass, and
-great purple violets, and tall buttercups nid-nodding in the wind.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Very often Myra and I would take off our shoes and stockings, and
-wade. The roguish little brook would tickle my small toes, and try and
-trip me up on one of its little mossy stones. Once I did slip and sat
-right down in the water with a great splash! And the little brook
-took all the starch out of my clothes, and ran off with it in a twinkling.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Now and then, I would fasten a bent pin to a string and tie the
-string to the end of a stick and fish for the tiny minnows and tadpoles.
-But, somehow, I never caught one of the little darting things. I used
-to believe the brook whispered them to keep away from that little
-shining hook.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sometimes, I would take a big white chip and load it with pebbles
-or violets and send it down stream. The sly little brook would slip my
-boat over one of its tiny waterfalls just as quick as it could! If my
-little boat was loaded with pebbles, down would go my heavy cargo to
-the bottom! But if it were loaded with violets, then a fleet of fairy
-purple canoes would float on and on, and away out of sight.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>A great green frog with big, staring eyes watched from the side of
-the brook. Now and then, he would say, “Ker-chug!” in a deep voice.
-I used to ask him in good faith, what “ker-chug!” meant. But he
-did not tell, and to this day I have not found out what “ker-chug”
-means.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id011'>
-<img src='images/illus018.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>“WILD STRAWBERRIES GREW RED AND SWEET DOWN IN THE TALL GRASS.”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>V.—THE MEADOW-ROCKS.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>Another place where I played was out on the meadow-rocks.
-Right down in a level spot in the meadow were three great
-rocks. Each one of these rocks was as large as a dining-room table.
-Right through this little flat place ran the brook I have told you about,
-bubbling round our three great rocks.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>0, what splendid playhouses those rocks were! We each owned
-one. The third was owned by that wooden doll, Mrs. Pippy. In order
-to get to either one of the houses you had to cross a little bridge that
-spanned a tiny river. Also there were dear little steps up the sides of
-the rocks which it was such a pleasure to go up and down.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>On the top of the rocks, which were almost as flat as the top of a
-table, were little closely-clinging patches of moss that we called our
-rugs. There were queer-shaped hollows in the tops of these rocks.
-In one little moss-lined hollow I used to cradle my baby-doll. Another
-hollow was my kitchen sink. I used to fill up my sink with bits of
-broken dishes, turn on some water from the brook, and then such a
-scrubbing as my dishes got!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>At the rocks, kneeling down on the planks that formed our bridges,
-we used to wash our dollies’ clothes. Then we would spread them on
-the grass to dry. Didn’t we use to keep our babies clean and sweet!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Afterwards, pinning our short skirts up about us, we would wash
-the floors of our little rock houses until they shone. When everything
-was spick-and-span, we would unpin our skirts, pull down our
-sleeves, rub our rosy cheeks with a mullein leaf to make them rosier,
-and with a big burdock leaf tied on with a couple of strings for a bonnet
-we would go calling on our lazy neighbor, Mrs. Pippy, and give
-her a serious “talking-to.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Or, perhaps, we would call on each other and talk about the terrible
-illnesses our poor children were suffering from. Or, perhaps, we
-would go to market. The market consisted of a long row of raspberry
-bushes along the meadow fence.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id004'>
-<img src='images/illus020.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>WASHING-DAY AT THE ROCK-HOUSES.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id012'>
-<img src='images/illus021.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>BUT WHEN TO-MORROW</h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>But when to-morrow, down the lane,</div>
- <div class='line'>I walk among the flowers again,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Between the tall red hollyhocks,</div>
- <div class='line'>Here I shall find you as before,</div>
- <div class='line'>Asleep within your fastened door,—</div>
- <div class='line in2'>My lazy four-o’clocks!</div>
- <div class='line in20'><span class='fss'>MARGARET JOHNSON.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id013'>
-<img src='images/illus022.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'><i>THE SNOW WITCH.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>There was skating on the ponds where the snow had been cleared;
-there were icicles on the trees, nice blue, clear skies in the daytime,
-cold, bright, wintry moonlight at night.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Lovely weather for Christmas holidays! But to one little five-year-old
-man, nothing had seemed lovely this Christmas, though he was spending
-it with his Father and Mother and his big sisters at Grandpapa’s
-beautiful old country house, where everybody did all that could be done
-to make Grandpapa’s guests happy. For poor little Roger was pining for
-his elder brother, Lawson, whom he had not seen for more than four
-months. Lawson was eight, and had been at school since Michaelmas,
-and there he had caught a fever which had made it not safe for him to join
-the rest of the family till the middle of January. But he was coming
-to-morrow.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Why, then, did Roger still look sad and gloomy?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Stupid little boy!” said Mabel. “I’m sure we’ve tried to amuse
-him. Why, Mamma let him sit up an hour later than usual last night,
-to hear all those funny old fairy tales and legends Uncle Bob was
-telling.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, and weren’t they fun?” answered Pansy. “I did shiver at
-the witch ones, though, didn’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Poor little Roger! Pansy’s shivering was nothing to his! They had
-all walked home from the vicarage, tempted by the clear, frosty moonlight
-and the hard, dry ground; and trotting along, a little behind the others, a
-strange thing had happened to the boy. Fancy—in the field by the Primrose
-Lane, through the gateway, right in a bright band of moonlight, <i>he
-had seen a witch</i>. Just such a witch as Uncle Bob had described—with
-shadowy garments, and outstretched arms, and a queer-shaped head, on all
-of which the icicles were sparkling,
-just as Uncle Bob had said.
-For it was a winter-witch he had
-told the story about, whose dwelling
-was up in the frozen northern
-seas—“the Snow Witch” they
-called her.</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id014'>
-<img src='images/illus023.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>Cold as it was, Roger was
-in a bath of heat, his heart beating
-wildly, his legs shaking, when he
-overtook his sisters. And the
-night that followed was full of
-terrible dreams and starts and
-misery, even though nurse and baby were next door, and he could see
-the night-light through the chinks. If it had not been that Lawson was
-coming—Lawson who never laughed at him or called him “stupid little
-goose,” Lawson who listened to all his griefs—Roger could not have
-borne it. For, strange to say, the little fellow told no one of his trouble;
-he felt as if he could <i>only</i> tell Lawson.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>No wonder he looked pale and sad and spiritless; there was still
-another dreadful night to get through before Lawson came.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But things sometimes turn out better than our fears. Late that
-afternoon, when nursery tea was over and bedtime not far off, there came
-the sound of wheels and then a joyful hubbub. Lawson had come! Uncle
-Bob had been passing near the school where he was, and had gone a little
-out of his way to pick him up. Every one was delighted—oh, of them all,
-<i>none</i> so thankful as Roger.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Though I wont tell him to-night,” decided the unselfish little
-fellow, “not to spoil his first night. I sha’n’t mind when I know he’s in
-his cot beside me.” And even when Lawson lovingly asked him if anything
-was the matter, he kept to his resolution.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But he woke in the middle of the night from a terrible dream;
-Lawson woke too, and then—out it all came.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I thought she was coming in at the window,” Roger ended. “If—if
-you look out—it’s moonlight—I think <i>p’r’aps</i> you’ll see where she stands.
-But no, no! Don’t, <i>don’t</i>! She might see you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>So Lawson agreed to wait till to-morrow.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I have an idea,” said Lawson. “Roger, darling, go to sleep. <i>I’m</i>
-here, and you can say your prayers again if you like.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Lawson was up very early next morning. And as soon as breakfast
-was over he told Roger to come out with him. Down the Primrose Lane
-they went, in spite of Roger’s trembling.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now, shut your eyes,” said Lawson, when they got to the gate.
-He opened it, and led his brother through.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Look, now!” he said, with a merry laugh. And what do you
-think Roger saw?</p>
-
-<div class='figright id015'>
-<img src='images/illus024.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>An old scarecrow, forgotten since last year. There she stood, the
-“Snow Witch,” an apron and ragged
-shawl, two sticks for arms, a bit of
-Grandpapa’s hat, to crown all—that
-was the witch!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Shake hands with her,
-Roger,” said Lawson. And shake
-hands they both did, till the old
-scarecrow tumbled to pieces, never
-more to frighten either birds or little
-boys. “Dear Lawson,” said Roger,
-lovingly, as he held up his little face
-for a kiss. And happy, indeed, were
-the rest of the Christmas holidays.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>May they never love each
-other less, these two; may they be
-true brothers in manhood as they have been in their childish days!</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>L. Molesworth.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'><i>THE THREE BLIND MICE.</i><br /> <span class='large'><i>THE STORY TOLD BY A BROWNIE.</i></span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus025.jpg' width='300' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
-Well, first of all, I must tell you that I am a
-Brownie, and although I am ever and ever so
-old, I look as young to-day as I did when
-I was but one year old. Well, it was about
-seven hundred years ago, and I used to be a
-great deal with some other Brownies, cousins of mine, visiting
-at the same farm-houses as they did, and helping them
-with their work. And it was in this way that I got to know
-the Three Blind Mice,—Purrin, Furrin, and Tod.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Pretty, pleasant little fellows they were; and they
-were not blind then,—far from it. They lived up in the loft of Dame
-Marjoram’s room, over at Fiveoaks Farm.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Such merry supper-parties as never were, I think, before or since, we
-used to have then. We would think nothing of finishing a round of apple
-and a walnut-shell full of honey between us, in one evening, to say nothing
-of scraps of cheese-rind and the crumbs we stole from the birds. Purrin
-had a most melodious voice, and could sing a good song, while Tod was
-never at a loss for an amusing story. As to Furrin, he was almost as quaint
-as our Mr. Puck, and, though perhaps it is not for <i>me</i> to say so, when those
-in high places do encourage him, not one-tenth as mischievous.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When Angelina, the old stable cat, had kittens, he would get into all
-sorts of out-of-the-way places, and imitate their squeaky little voices, so that
-she was always on the fidget, thinking she must have mislaid one somewhere,
-and never able to find it. For you see, as she could not count, she
-never knew whether they were all beside her or no. Often he would coax
-a whole hazel-nut out of Rudge, the Squirrel, who lived on the Hanger, just
-above, and whom every one believed to be a miser. And then his Toasting-fork
-Dance was so sprightly and graceful, it did your heart good to see
-it. Ah, me! those days are gone, and Furrin is gone too; and the Moon,
-when she looks through that chink in the barn roof, no longer sees us
-feasting and making merry on the great beam.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And this is how they became blind:</p>
-
-<div class='figright id016'>
-<img src='images/illus026.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>They were very fond of Gilliflower, Dame Marjoram’s little daughter,
-and after the nurse had put her to bed, Furrin, Purrin, and Tod used to
-creep up into her room, and read her some of the funny
-little tales from Mouse-land till she went to sleep. She
-would lie there with her eyes shut, and perhaps imagined
-that it was her own thoughts that made her fancy
-all about the fairy tales that came into her head; but
-really it was the mice who read them to her, but in such
-a low voice that Gilliflower never thought of opening
-her eyes to see if any one was there. I must tell you
-that the print in Mouse-land is <span class='xxsmall'>very, very small</span> and hard to
-read. This did not matter so much during the long
-Summer evenings, when there was plenty of light to
-see to read by; but when the Winter came on, and the mice had only
-the firelight to read by, then reading the small print began to tell its tale.
-You know how bad it is for the eyesight to read any print by firelight, and
-it must be very much worse when the print is very small; and so Furrin
-would say to Purrin, “My eyes are getting quite dim, so now you must
-read;” and before Purrin had read a page he would say the same thing to
-Tod, and then Tod would try; but after a time their eyes became so dim
-they couldn’t see at all, and so they had to invent stories to tell little Gilliflower;
-so the poor little mice went quite blind, trying to amuse their little
-girl friend.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>I took what care of them I could; but their blindness was very sad
-for them. No longer had Purrin the heart to sing or Furrin to dance and
-jest. Only they would sit close together, each holding one of Tod’s hands,
-and listening to his stories, for he kept his spirits best, and did all he could
-to cheer the others. All the marketing fell to me then, and it gave me
-plenty to do; for, poor souls, the only amusement left them was a dainty
-morsel, now and then.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And, by and by, they became so tired of sitting still, when Tod had
-exhausted all his stock of stories, that they got reckless, and would go
-blundering about the house after Dame Marjoram, whom they knew by
-the rustle of her silken
-skirt, and the tapping of
-her high-heeled shoes.
-They all ran after her,
-forgetting, that although
-they could not see her,
-still she could see them,
-and trying to follow her
-into her store-room,
-where the almonds, and
-raisins, and sugar, and
-candied-peel were kept.</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id017'>
-<img src='images/illus027a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='figright id018'>
-<img src='images/illus027b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>I told them she would get angry, and that harm would come of it;
-but I think their unhappiness and dulness made them quite foolhardy, for
-they still went on, getting under her feet, and well-nigh tripping her up;
-clambering into the lard-pot before her very eyes; in short, doing a
-thousand irritating and injudicious things day by day, until her patience was
-quite worn out. And at last, when they scrambled on to the dinner-table,
-thinking it to be the store-room shelf, and sat all in a row, quietly eating
-out of Miss Gilliflower’s plate, Dame Marjoram, who had the carving-knife
-in her hand, thought it high time for them to have a lesson in manners.
-So, thinking the knife was turned blunt side downwards, she rapped them
-smartly across their three tails. What
-was her horror and their dismay, to find
-them cut off quite cleanly. The little
-tails lay still on the table, and the three
-little mice, well-nigh crazed with terror
-and pain, groped their way off the table
-and out of the room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>I was returning from the cheese-room,
-and met them crossing the great
-hall.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Of course, I took in at a glance all that had occurred, and I must
-say that I felt but little surprise, though much sorrow. I guided them to
-our old haunt in the loft-roof and then sat down to prepare a Memorial
-for Dame Marjoram, giving a full account of all that they had suffered for
-the sake of her family.</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id019'>
-<img src='images/illus028a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>This I placed on the top of the key-basket;
-and while she was reading it, with my usual tact
-I silently brought in Purrin, Furrin, and Tod, and
-pushed them forward in front of her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The tears stood in her eyes as she finished
-reading my scroll, and from that time forth nothing
-was too good for the Three Blind Mice. The good
-wife even tried to make new tails for them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But they did not live long to enjoy their new happiness. The loss of
-their sight, followed by the shock of having their tails cut off, was too much
-for them. They never quite recovered, but died, all on the same day,
-within the same hour, just a month afterward.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Their three little graves were made beneath the shadows of a
-lavender bush in the garden.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sometimes I go there to scatter a flower or two, and to shed a tear
-to the memory of Purrin, Furrin, and Tod.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Helen J. Wood.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id020'>
-<img src='images/illus028b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>VI—THE LILACS.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>There was a great clump of lilac bushes out by the garden wall.
-These lilacs grew close together and made a thick hedge nearly
-around a little plot of ground, where the grass grew so thick and
-velvety that it was like a great green rug, and they bent their tall
-heads over this little green plot, and so formed a lovely summer-house.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Here we used to sew for our dolls, and here we used to give tea-parties.
-Raspberry shortcake was one of the dainties we used to have.
-This is the way we made it: Take a nice clean raspberry leaf, heap
-it with raspberries, and put another leaf on top. Eat at once.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>In this lovely summer-house I used to keep school. I had a row
-of bricks for scholars. Each brick had its own name. Two or three
-of the bricks were nice and red and new. I named those new bricks
-after my dearest little school-friends.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The rest of the bricks were either broken or blackened a little.
-Those bricks were my naughty, idle scholars. I used to stand them
-up in a row to learn their lessons. The first thing I knew those bad
-bricks would all tumble down in a heap. Numbers of little lilac-switches
-grew about my schoolhouse, and I fear I was a severe teacher.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the lilacs were in bloom, that dear little summer-house was
-a very gay little place. The great, purple plumes would nod in every
-little wind that blew. The air was full of sweetness. Butterflies
-made the trees bright with their slowly-waving wings. There was a
-drowsy hum of many bees. Sometimes we would catch hold of one
-of the slender trunks of the lilac trees, and give it a smart shake.
-Away would flash a bright cloud of butterflies, and a swarm of angry,
-buzzing bees!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Pleasant Sabbath afternoons, we used to take our Sunday-school
-books out under the lilacs to read. And as we read about good deeds
-and unselfish lives, our own choir of birds would sing sweet hymns.
-Then we would look up and smile, and say, “They have good singing
-at the lilac church, don’t they?”</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id021'>
-<img src='images/illus030.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>I HAD A ROW OF BRICKS FOR SCHOLARS.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>EIGHT YEARS OLD.<br /> <span class='large'>THE SINGING-LESSON.</span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in2'>A slender, liquid note,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Long-drawn and silver-sweet.</div>
- <div class='line'>Obediently the little maid</div>
- <div class='line'>Tries, timid still, and half afraid,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>The lesson to repeat.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in18'>A breezy turn or two,</div>
- <div class='line in18'>A blithe and bold refrain,</div>
- <div class='line in16'>A ripple up and down the scale,</div>
- <div class='line in16'>And still the learner does not fail</div>
- <div class='line in18'>To echo soft the strain.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in2'>A burst of melody</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Wild, rapturous, and long.</div>
- <div class='line'>A thousand airy runs and trills</div>
- <div class='line'>Like drops from overflowing rills,—</div>
- <div class='line in2'>The vanquished pupil’s song</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in18'>Breaks into laughter sweet.</div>
- <div class='line in18'>And does her master chide?</div>
- <div class='line in16'>Nay; little Ethel’s music-room</div>
- <div class='line in16'>Is mid the sunny garden’s bloom,</div>
- <div class='line in18'>Her roof the branches wide.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in10'>With parted lips she stands</div>
- <div class='line in10'>Among the flowers alone.</div>
- <div class='line in8'>Her teacher—hark! again he sings!</div>
- <div class='line in8'>A stir—a flash of startled wings—</div>
- <div class='line in10'>The little bird has flown!</div>
- <div class='line in40'><span class='fss'>MARGARET JOHNSON.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id022'>
-<img src='images/illus032.jpg' alt='“One,| Two,| Buckle| My Shoe.” By Margaret Johnson' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>“One,<br /> Two,<br /> Buckle<br /> My Shoe.”</h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Smile on me, Baby, my sweet,</div>
- <div class='line'>As I kneel humbly here at your feet.</div>
- <div class='line'>My Prince, with no crown for your head,</div>
- <div class='line'>But your own sunny tresses instead.</div>
- <div class='line'>And your lips and your eyes gravely sweet,</div>
- <div class='line'>Smile down on me here at your feet,</div>
- <div class='line in14'>Little one.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>VII.—THE SAND-BANK.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>That sand-bank in the pasture was one of the nicest of our playhouses.
-There was neither dust nor dirt in it—nothing but
-clean, fine sand, with now and then a pebble. It was not high, so there
-was no danger of a great mass of sand falling down on us two children.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The sand-bank was not very far from the little brook. Myra and
-I would carry pailful after pailful of water from the brook to it, until
-we had moistened a large quantity of sand. Sometimes we would
-cover our little bare feet with the cool, wet sand, packing it just as
-close as we could. Then gently, O, so gently, we would pull our feet
-out from under the sand. The little “five-toed caves” as we used to
-call them, would show just as plain as could be, where our little feet
-had been! We used to catch little toads and put them into those little
-damp caves, but they would soon hop out.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>We used to make the nicest pies and cakes and cookies out of that
-lovely wet sand. We used to wish our sand-dainties were fit to eat!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Oftentimes, when we were tired of cooking, we would go to work
-and lay out a wonderful garden with tiny flower-beds and winding
-paths, out of that wet sand. Some of those flower-beds were star-shaped,
-some were round as a wheel, and some were square. We
-used to gather handfuls of wild-flowers and stick them down in, until
-every tiny bed blossomed into pink and blue and white and gold!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>We used to make sand-preserves out there. The time and the
-patience that we used up in filling narrow-necked bottles with sand!
-After a bottle was well-filled and shaken down, we would catch up
-that bottle and run down to the brook. We would wash the outside
-of that bottle until it shone like cut-glass, and then we would pack it
-away in a hollow stump that we called our preserve-closet.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>We used to play a game that we called “Hop-scotch” out in the old
-sand-bank. In this game, you mark the sand off into rather large
-squares. Then hopping along on one foot, you try with your toe to
-push a pebble from one square into another.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id023'>
-<img src='images/illus034.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>THE SAND-BANK GARDEN.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>VIII.—THE OLD PASTURE.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>I used to play a great deal out in the old pasture. It had a clump
-of cradle-knolls in it. A cradle-knoll is a little mound of moss.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>On these mossy little cradle-knolls, checkerberry leaves and berries
-used to grow. How delicious those spicy young checkerberry leaves
-tasted! And we hunted those red plums as a cat hunts a mouse!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The pasture had two or three well-beaten paths in it, that the
-cows had made by their sober steady tramping back and forth from
-the barnyard lane to the growth of little trees and bushes and tender
-grass at the back. At sunset-time, two little barefooted girls would
-“spat” along those cool smooth winding paths after those cows.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>As long as we kept in the paths our little feet were all right. But
-sometimes a clump of bright wild-flowers tempted us, and then two
-sorry little girls with thistle-prickles in their feet would come limping
-back. But out where the tender grasses grew there were no thistles,
-and such fun as hide-and-seek used to be among the bushes!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sometimes we could not find the cows very readily; and then we
-would climb up on a smutty stump and call, “co’ boss! co’ boss!” until
-the woods rang.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>In the spring, we would go a-maying out in the old pasture, and
-O, such great handfuls of the sweet mayflower as we used to bring
-home! Later on, we would gather great bunches of sweet-smelling
-herbs that grew wild out there, and carry them home to hang up in
-the shed-chamber and dry.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>If one of my schoolmates had been unkind to me, I would go out
-into the old pasture, and there I would plan out for myself a lovely
-future wherein I should be <i>very</i> rich and <i>very</i> good to the poor. And
-my unkind schoolmate would be one of the humble receivers of my
-gifts, and so it would come about that before I got through building
-air-castles I would actually feel sorry for the poor schoolmate who
-had ill-used me. And then home I would go, singing and skipping!</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/illus036.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>“CO’ BOSS!! CO’ BOSS!”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>Little Mother Hubbard.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div><a href="music/little_mother_hubbard.mp3" class="x-ebookmaker-drop">Listen</a></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id024'>
-<a href='images/little_mother_hubbard.png'><img src='images/illus037.jpg' alt='Little Mother Hubbard. WORDS BY ALBERT H. HARDY. MUSIC BY T. CRAMPTON.' class='ig001' /></a>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>1. Lit-tle Mo-ther Hub-bard sat</div>
- <div class='line'>In the park at play, With her gown and point-ed hat All of so-ber</div>
- <div class='line'>gray. And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce be-lieved my eyes;</div>
- <div class='line'>And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce believed my eyes.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>2. Pug no long-er frisked a-bout,</div>
- <div class='line'>For he felt the loss Of his sup-per and his cake, So was tired and</div>
- <div class='line'>cross. And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug;</div>
- <div class='line'>And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>3. Mo-ther Hub-bard hur-ried home,</div>
- <div class='line'>Say-ing, “Mer-cy me! Pug shall have some frost-ed cake And a cup of</div>
- <div class='line'>tea.” But the cake was eat-en up And the nurse had lost his cup;</div>
- <div class='line'>But the cake was eat-en up, And the nurse had lost his cup.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figleft id025'>
-<img src='images/illus038.jpg' alt='PILLOW·LAND' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>PILLOW·LAND</h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in14'>GOOD-NIGHT.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in12'>Suck-a-Thumb,</div>
- <div class='line in12'>Bed-time’s come.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Dressed in white,</div>
- <div class='line'>Shut eyes tight.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in4'>“Nighty, night!”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>IX.—THE ELM-TREE.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>Out in one of the meadows was a big elm-tree. It was very tall,
-and in summer it looked like a monster bunch of green plumes.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It stood on the bank of our little brook. Right where the old elm
-stood, the bank was quite high, six feet almost. The boughs on the
-old tree grew very low. I would catch hold of one of those low-hanging
-boughs. Then, I would give a little run and jump. Away
-out over the bank and over the brook I would swing!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Oftentimes I would take my patchwork out under the old elm.
-But soon the patchwork would be on the ground, forgotten, and an
-idle little girl would be lying flat on the grass, with her hands clasped
-under her head, looking up into the clear blue sky!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>I used to make believe that the white clouds were my ships, coming
-into harbor under full sail. And I used to make up fine names for
-my ships, and O, such splendid cargoes as they would be loaded with,
-all for me—their rich young owner—the idle dreamer in the grass!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>O, it was such fun to lie there in the midst of funny daisies with
-their high white collars, and buttercups with their yellow caps! The
-roguish little winds would make them bend over and tickle the rosy
-face of the little girl whom the birds and the brook had almost hushed
-off to sleep. There would be a soft little touch on my forehead, and
-then another on my chin, and yet others on my cheeks. Then I
-would open my eyes and laugh at those funny little white and gold
-heads, soberly wagging up and down. But once I was rather frightened
-out under the old elm. I had been lying flat on my back for an
-hour or two, when I was called. I half raised myself up and answered.
-My hand was on the ground just where I had been lying. I felt
-something squirming around my thumb. It was a tiny brown snake!
-Of course, it was as harmless as a fly, but didn’t I spring to my feet!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When I had to recite a little piece in school or at a church concert,
-I always used to rehearse that little piece out under the old elm, over
-and over again.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id026'>
-<img src='images/illus040.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>SWINGING ON THE ELM-TREE BOUGH.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'><i>Puggie in Disgrace.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus041.jpg' width='64' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi_8'></p>
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='c011'>C</span>hild-ren, just look at this queer little Pug,</div>
- <div class='line'>His small wrin-kled nose, his little black mug!</div>
- <div class='line'>I fear he’s been naugh-ty at les-sons to-day,</div>
- <div class='line'>And, like naugh-ty child-ren, he’s pun-ished this way.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>He sits on the stool of re-pent-ance, you see;</div>
- <div class='line'>Poor Pug-gie is gen-tle and meek as can be;</div>
- <div class='line'>But when at his les-sons he just took a nap,</div>
- <div class='line'>And that is the rea-son he wears the Fool’s cap.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>His neck has an or-na-ment, not like his head,</div>
- <div class='line'>But a beau-ti-ful lock-et and rib-bon in-stead;</div>
- <div class='line'>So you see that to some one the dog-gie is dear,</div>
- <div class='line'>Al-though they all tease him I very much fear.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>From Ho-race, the eld-est, to lit-tle Miss May,</div>
- <div class='line'>All in-sist that Poor Pug-gie should join in their play;</div>
- <div class='line'>Some-times they pet him, and some-times they tease,</div>
- <div class='line'>But he bears it all pa-tient-ly, eager to please.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>He rolls his big eyes, or just heaves a sigh,</div>
- <div class='line'>And thinks they’ll make up for it all by and by.</div>
- <div class='line'>For Pug-gie is greed-y, and bears a great deal</div>
- <div class='line'>For the sake of some cakes or a good heart-y meal.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>But though he <i>is</i> greed-y, his faults are but few,</div>
- <div class='line'>He is lov-ing and hon-est, de-vo-ted and true.</div>
- <div class='line'>If our two-foot-ed friends were as faith-ful as he</div>
- <div class='line'>Ve-ry for-tu-nate peo-ple I think we should be.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id027'>
-<img src='images/illus042.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'><i>TIC-TAC-TOO.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Tic-tac-too was a little boy; he was exactly three years old, and the
-youngest in the family; so, of course, he was the king. His real name
-was Alec; but he was always known in the household, and among his
-wide circle of friends generally, as Tic-tac-too. There was a little story to
-account for this, and it is that story which I am now going to tell.</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id028'>
-<img src='images/illus043.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>There are very few children who do not know the funny old nursery rhyme
-of “Tic-tac-too;” it is an old-fashioned rhyme, and in great vogue amongst
-nurses. Of course Alec enjoyed it, and liked to have his toes pulled, and the
-queer words said to him. But that is not the story; for it is one thing to like
-a nursery rhyme very much, and another to be
-called by the name of that rhyme, and nothing
-else.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Now, please, listen to the story.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>There was no nicer house to live in than
-Daisy Farm: it was old-fashioned and roomy;
-there were heaps of small bedrooms
-with low ceilings, and heaps
-of long passages, and unexpected
-turnings, and dear little cosey corners;
-and there was a large nursery
-made out of two or three of
-the small rooms thrown together,
-and this nursery had casement
-windows, and from the windows
-the daisies, which gave their name
-to the farm, could be seen. They
-came up in thousands upon thousands,
-and no power of man and scythe combined could keep them down.
-The mowing-machine only suppressed them for a day or two; up they started
-anew in their snowy dresses, with their modest pink frills and bright yellow
-edges.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mr. Rogers, who owned Daisy Farm, objected to the flowers; but his
-children delighted in them, and picked them in baskets-full, and made daisy-chains
-to their hearts’ content. There were several children who lived in this
-pleasant farmhouse, for Tic-tac-too had many brothers and sisters. The old-fashioned
-nursery was all that a modern nursery should be; it had deep cupboards
-for toys, and each child had his or her wide shelf to keep special
-treasures on; and the window-ledges were cosey places to curl up in on wet
-days, when the rain beat outside, and the wind sighed, and
-even the daisies looked as if they did not like to be washed
-so much.</p>
-
-<div class='figright id029'>
-<img src='images/illus044a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>Some of the children at Daisy Farm were old enough to
-have governesses and masters, to have a schoolroom for
-themselves, and, in short, to have very little to say to the
-nursery; but still there were four nursery little ones; and one
-day mother electrified the children by telling them that
-another little boy was coming to pay them a visit.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“He is coming to-morrow,” said mother; “he is a year
-younger than Alec here, but his mother has asked us to take
-care of him. You must all be kind to the little baby
-stranger, children, and try your very best to make him feel at
-home. Poor little man, I trust he will be happy with us.”</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id030'>
-<img src='images/illus044b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mother sighed as she spoke; and when she did this, Rosie, the eldest
-nursery child, looked up at her quickly. Rosie had dark gray eyes, and a very
-sympathetic face; she was the kind of child who
-felt everybody’s troubles, and nurse said she did
-this far more than was good for her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The moment her mother left the room, Rosie
-ran up to her nurse, and spoke eagerly—</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why did mother sigh when she said a new
-little boy was coming here, nursie?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, my love, how can I tell? People sigh
-most likely from habit, and from no reason whatever.
-There’s nothing to fret anybody in a sigh,
-Miss Rosie.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But mother doesn’t sigh from habit,” answered Rosie; “I expect there’s
-going to be something sad about the new little boy, and I wonder what it is.
-Harry, shall we collect some of our very nicest toys to have ready for the poor
-little new boy?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Harry was six; he had a determined face, and was not so generous as
-Rosie.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’ll not give away my skin-horse,” he said, “so you needn’t think it, nor
-my white dog with the joints; there are some broken things down in that
-corner that he can have. But I don’t see why a new baby should have my
-best toys. Gee-up, Alec! you’re a horse, you know, and I’m going to race
-you from one end of the nursery to the other—now trot!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Fat little curly-headed Alec started off good-humoredly, and Rosie surveyed
-her own shelf to see which toys would most distract the attention of
-the little stranger.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She was standing on a hassock, and counting her treasures over carefully,
-when she was startled by a loud exclamation from nurse.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Mercy me! If that ain’t the telegraph boy coming up the drive!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Nurse was old-fashioned enough still to regard telegrams with apprehension.
-She often said she could never look at one of those awful yellow
-envelopes, without her heart jumping into her mouth; and these fears she had,
-to a certain extent, infected the children with.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Harry dropped Alec’s reins, and rushed to the window; Rosie forgot
-her toys, and did likewise; Jack and Alec both pressed for a view from
-behind.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Me, me, me, me want to see!” screamed baby Alec from the back.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Nurse lifted him into her arms; as she did so, she murmured under her
-breath,—</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“God preserve us! I hope that awful boy isn’t bringing us anything bad.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Rosie heard the words, and felt a sudden sense of chill and anxiety; she
-pressed her little hand into nurse’s, and longed more than ever to give all the
-nicest toys to the new little boy.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Just then the nursery door was opened, and Kate, the housemaid, appeared,
-carrying the yellow envelope daintily between her finger and thumb.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There, nurse,” she said, “it’s for you; and I hope, I’m sure, it’s no ill-luck
-I’m bringing you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, sake’s alive!” said nurse. “Children, dears, let me sit down.
-That awful boy to bring it to me! Well, the will of the Lord must be done;
-whatever’s inside this ugly thing? Miss Rosie, my dear, could you hunt
-round somewhere for my spectacles?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It always took a long time to find nurse’s spectacles; and Rosie, after
-a frantic search, in which she was joined by all the other nursery children,
-discovered them at last at the bottom of Alec’s cot. She rushed with them
-to the old woman, who put them on her nose, and began deliberately to read
-the contents of her telegram.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The children stood round her as she did so. They were all breathless
-and excited; and Rosie looked absolutely white from anxiety.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, my dears,” said nurse at last, when she had spelt through the
-words, “it ain’t exactly a trouble; far from me to say that; but all the same,
-it’s mighty contrary, and a new child coming here, and all.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What is it, nurse?” said Harry. “<i>Do</i> tell us what it’s all about.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It’s my daughter, dears,” said nurse; “she’ll be in London to-morrow, on
-her way back to America.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, nurse!” said Rosie, “not your daughter Ann?”</p>
-
-<div class='figright id031'>
-<img src='images/illus046.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The same, my love; she that has eight children, and four of them with
-carrotty hair. She wants me to go up to London,
-to see her to-morrow; that’s the news the
-telegraph boy has brought, Miss Rosie. My
-daughter Ann says, ‘Mother, meet me to-morrow
-at aunt’s, at two o’clock.’ Well, well, it’s mighty
-contrary; and that new child coming, and all!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But you’ll have to go, nurse. It would be
-dreadful for your daughter Ann not to see you again.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, dear, that’s all very fine; but what’s to become
-of all you children? How is this blessed baby to get on
-without his old Nan?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, nurse, you <i>must</i> go! It would be so cruel if
-you didn’t,” exclaimed Rosie.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Nurse sat thinking hard for a minute or two; then saying she would go
-and consult her mistress, she left the room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The upshot of all this was, that at an early hour the following morning
-nurse started for London, and a girl, of the name of Patience, from the village,
-came up to take her place in the nursery.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mrs. Rogers was particularly busy during these days. She had some
-friends staying with her, and in addition to this her eldest daughter, Ethel,
-was ill, and took up a good deal of her mother’s time; in consequence of
-these things the nursery children were left entirely to the tender mercies of
-Patience.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Not that that mattered much, for they were independent children, and
-always found their own amusements. The first day of nurse’s absence, too,
-was fine, and they spent the greater part of it in the open air; but the second
-day was wet—a hopelessly wet day—a dull day with a drizzling fog, and no
-prospect whatever of clearing up.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The morning’s post brought a letter from nurse to ask for further leave of
-absence; and this, in itself, would have depressed the spirits of the nursery
-children, for they were looking forward to a gay supper with her, and a
-long talk about her daughter Ann, and all her London adventures.</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id032'>
-<img src='images/illus047.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>But this was not the real
-trouble which pressed so heavily
-on Rosie’s motherly heart; the
-real anxiety which made her little
-face look so careworn was caused
-by the new baby, the little boy of
-two years old, who had arrived
-late the night before, and now sat
-with a shadow on his face, absolutely
-refusing to make friends
-with any one.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He must have been a petted
-little boy at home, for he was
-beautifully dressed, and his curly
-hair was nicely cared for, and his
-fair face had a delicate peach
-bloom about it; but if he was
-petted, he was also, perhaps,
-spoilt, for he certainly would not
-make advances to any of his new
-comrades, nor exert himself to be agreeable, nor to overcome the strangeness
-which was filling his baby mind. Had nurse been at home, she would have
-known how to manage; she would have coaxed smiles from little Fred, and
-taken him up in her arms, and “mothered” him a good bit. Babies of two
-require a great lot of “mothering,” and it is surprising what desolation fills
-their little souls when it is denied them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Fred cried while Patience was dressing him; he got almost into a passion
-when she washed his face, and he sulked over his breakfast. Patience was
-not at all the sort of girl to manage a child like Fred; she was rough in every
-sense of the word; and when rough petting failed, she tried the effect of
-rough scolding.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Come, baby, come, you <i>must</i> eat your bread and milk. No nonsense
-now, open your mouth and gobble it down. Come, come, I’ll slap you if you
-don’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But baby Fred, though sorrowful, was not a coward; he pushed the bowl
-of bread and milk away, upset its contents over the clean tablecloth, and
-raised two sorrowful big eyes to the new nurse’s face.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Naughty dirl, do away,” he said; “Fred don’t ’ove ’oo. Fred won’t
-eat bekfus’.”</p>
-
-<div class='figright id033'>
-<img src='images/illus048.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, Miss Rosie, what
-a handful he is!” said
-Patience.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Let me try him!”
-said Rosie; “I’ll make him
-eat something. Come Freddy
-darling, you love Rosie,
-don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No, I don’t,” said Fred.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, you’ll eat some breakfast; come now.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I won’t eat none bekfus’—do away.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Rosie turned round and looked in a despairing way at
-her own three brothers.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If only nurse were at home!” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Master Fred,” said Patience, “if you won’t eat, you must get down from
-the breakfast-table. I have got to clear up, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She popped the little boy on the floor. He looked round in a bewildered
-fashion.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Let’s have a very exciting kind of play, and perhaps he’ll join in,” said
-Rosie, in a whisper. “Let’s play at kittens—that’s the loveliest of all our
-games.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Kittens” was by no means a quiet pastime. It consisted, indeed, in wild
-romps on all-fours, each child assuming for the time the character of a kitten,
-and jumping after balls of paper, which they caught in their mouths.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It’s the happiest of all our games, and perhaps he’ll like it,” said Rosie.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Patie,” said Alec, going up to the new nurse, “does ’oo know <i>Tic-tac-too</i>?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Of course I do, master Baby—a silly game that.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I ’ike it,” said little Alec.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He tripped across the nursery to the younger baby, and sat down by his
-side.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Take off ’oo shoe,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Fred was very tired of being cross and miserable. He could not say he
-was too little to Alec, for Alec was scarcely bigger than himself. Besides he
-understood about taking off his shoe. It was a performance he particularly
-liked. He looked at Baby Alec, and obeyed him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Take off ’oo other shoe,” said Alec.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Fred did so.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Pull off ’oo ’tocks,” ordered the eldest baby.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Fred absolutely chuckled as he tugged away at his white socks, and
-revealed his pink toes.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now, come to Patie.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Fred scrambled to his feet, and holding Alec’s hand, trotted down the long
-nursery.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Patie,” said Alec, “take F’ed on ’our lap, and play <i>Tic-tac-too</i> for
-him?”</p>
-
-<div class='figright id034'>
-<img src='images/illus049.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>Patience was busy sewing; she
-raised her eyes. Two smiling little
-baby-boys were standing by her knee.
-Could this child, whose blue eyes were
-full of sunshine, be the miserable little
-Fred?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, master Alec,” she said, kissing
-the older baby, “you’re a perfect
-little darling. Well, I never! to think
-of you finding out a way to please that
-poor child.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Tic-tac-too!” said Fred, in a loud
-and vigorous voice. He was fast getting
-over his shyness, and Alec’s game
-suited him to perfection.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But the little stranger did <i>not</i> like the game of kittens. He marched in a
-fat, solid sort of way across the nursery, and sat down in a corner, with his
-back to the company. Here he really looked a most dismal little figure. The
-view of his back was heart-rending; his curly head drooped slightly, forlornness
-was written all over his little person.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What a little muff he is!” said Harry; “I’m glad I didn’t give my skin
-horse to him.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, don’t,” said Rosie, “can’t you see he’s unhappy? I must go and
-speak to him. Fred,” she said, going up to the child, “come and play with
-Alec and me.”</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter id035'>
-<img src='images/illus050.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No,” said Fred, “I’se too little to p’ay.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But we’ll have such an easy play, Fred. <i>Do</i> come; I wish you would.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’se too little,” answered Fred, shaking his head again.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>At that moment Rosie and her two elder brothers were called out of the
-room to their morning lessons. Rosie’s heart ached as she went away.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Something must be done,” she said to herself. “That new little boy-baby
-will get quite ill if we can’t think of something to please him soon.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She did not know that a very unexpected little deliverer was at hand. The
-two babies were now alone in the nursery, and Patience, having finished her
-tidying up, sat down to her sewing.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Patience lifted him on her lap, popped him down with a bounce, kissed
-him, and began,—</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“Tic, tac, too,</div>
- <div class='line'>The little horse has lost his shoe,</div>
- <div class='line'>Here a nail, and there a nail,</div>
- <div class='line'>Here a nail, and there a nail,</div>
- <div class='line in16'>Tic, tac, too!”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the other children returned to the nursery, they heard peals of
-merry baby laughter; and this was the fashion in which a little boy won his
-name.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>X.—THE PASTURE FENCE.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>We used to play a great deal about the pasture fence. It was a
-high rail fence and we used to take a little pole in both hands
-as a balancing pole, and run along on the top. Carefully we balanced
-ourselves as we ran! But finally we would tip first one way and then
-the other, and then, with a little laughing scream, off we’d topple!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sometimes we would put a board through the fence and have a fine
-time at “seesaw.” Up one of us would go, high in the air, and down
-would go the other with a thud!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>We used to play that the pasture fence was a huge cupboard.
-Each rail was a shelf. Many of those rail-shelves were loaded down
-with bits of broken dishes, shining pebbles, bits of green moss that we
-called “pincushions,” and white clam-shells full of strawberries, or
-raspberries, or little dark juicy choke-cherries. The contents of the
-clam-shells were for the birds. If we found a clam-shell lying on the
-ground, we believed with all our little hearts that a little winged
-creature had been fed from our cupboard.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sometimes we would carry on a thriving millinery store out at the
-pasture fence. We would make queer little bonnets out of birch-bark.
-Then we would sew wildflowers on the bonnets and lay them on the
-rails of the fence for sale. Such a number of those funny little bonnets
-as would be on exhibition on our rail-counters!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>One of the big upright posts of our rail fence was hollow a little
-way down. One day we found on the ground a nest full of birdlings;
-one of them was dead, and a little green snake had almost reached the
-nest. The mother-bird was flying about crying pitifully. I snatched
-the nest away and carried it O, so carefully to the pasture fence and
-put it down in the hollow of the fence-post. Then we went a bit
-away and waited. Pretty soon there was a little rush of wings; and
-soon the mother-bird settled down in that hollow post just as cunning
-as could be. And that dear little family staid in that hollow post
-until the baby-birds grew up and flew away.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>LULU’S FIRST THANKSGIVING.</h2>
-</div>
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Lulu was six years old last spring. She came to make a visit
-at her grandfather’s, and stayed until after Thanksgiving.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter id022'>
-<img src='images/illus053.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>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’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>
-
-<p class='c008'>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’s. It did not take
-them long to get acquainted. Before time for dinner they felt as if
-they had always known each other.</p>
-
-<div class='figright id036'>
-<img src='images/illus054.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>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>
-
-<p class='c008'>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 class='c008'>After dinner they played
-all kinds of games. All the uncles and aunts and grown-up cousins
-played blind-man’s-buff with them.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>XI.—OUR RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>We had a number of rainy-day playhouses. When it did not
-rain very hard, Myra and I would scamper out to our little
-playhouse made of boards, and listen to the patter of the drops.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was not a very costly playhouse. It was built in a corner made
-by the shed and the orchard fence. One side of our playhouse was
-the shed. Another side was the fence; this open side we used to call
-our bay-window. A creeping hop vine twined around the rough
-fence-boards and made a green lace curtain for our bay-window.
-The third side was made of boards. Across this side stretched the
-wide board seat, which was the only furniture of our playhouse. The
-fourth, or front side of the playhouse consisted mostly of a “double-door,”
-of which we were very proud. This double-door was two large
-green blinds. Did not we feel like truly little housekeepers when we
-fastened those two blinds together with a snap!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the rain came down in gentle showers we used to go out to
-the little playhouse and have a concert. First Myra would step up on
-to that wide board seat and recite a little piece. Then I would step
-up on to the seat and sing a little song. Perhaps while I was singing
-a robin in the orchard would begin to sing, O, so loud and sweet that
-all the orchard just rang with that sweet music! We would stop our
-concert and listen to the robin. When he had finished, we used to clap
-our little hands. And all the time the rain kept up a fairy “tinkle,
-tinkle,” as if some one was keeping time for us on a tiny piano.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Spat-t! Spat-t! would come the little drops through a tiny hole in
-the roof of our little house. We used to hold our faces up towards
-that little leak in the roof. Oftentimes a drop would strike us fairly
-on the tip of our small noses! Then how we would laugh!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sometimes we would take hold of hands and repeat together, over
-and over again: “Rain, rain, go away, come again, another day!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And if we said those words long enough, the rain would go away!</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id004'>
-<img src='images/illus056.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>THE RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2>
-</div>
-<h3 class='c006'>XII.—THE WHOLE WHITE WORLD.</h3>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>In winter we played everywhere! The whole white world was a
-lovely playground! We had no skates, but we wore very thick-soled
-boots that took the place of skates very well. At least we
-thought so, and that was all we needed to make us contented. When
-the little pond was frozen over, we would take a quick run down its
-snowy banks and then we would skim clear across that little pond’s
-frozen surface just as swift as a bird would skim through the air.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sometimes a thick frost would come in the night-time. The next
-morning a fine blue haze would be in the air and everything would be
-clothed in soft white frost-furs. As the sun rose higher and higher
-we would watch to see the trees and bushes grow warm in the sunshine
-and throw off their furs. Then we would try and catch those
-soft furs as they fell. But if caught they melted quickly away.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>If the surface of the snow hardened enough so that we could walk
-on the crust without breaking through, our happiness was complete.
-High hills were all about us, and it seemed to us as if every shining
-hill would say if it could, “Come and slide!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And O, the happy hours that we have had with our clumsy old
-sled! Away we would go, the wind stinging our faces until crimson
-roses blossomed in our cheeks, and the shining crust snapping and
-creaking under our sled, and the hill flying away behind us!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>If a damp clinging snow came, it made lovely snowballs; and it was
-such fun to catch hold of the long clothes-lines and shake them and
-see little clumps of snow hop like rabbits from the line into the air.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And if instead of warmth, and great damp feathery snowflakes,
-there came a bitter wind and an icy sleet that froze as it fell—what
-then? Never mind! Sunrise would set the whole world a-sparkle.
-Every tree and bush would be gay with splendid ice-jewels! And in
-the great shining ice palace, we could run and laugh and shout, watching
-the ice-jewels loosen and fall, all day long.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id037'>
-<img src='images/illus058.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>“AWAY WE WOULD GO!”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id038'>
-<img src='images/illus059a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'><i>GRAN’MA GRACIE.</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus059b.jpg' width='145' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
-It was Uncle George who called her “Gran’ma” when she
-was only six, and by the time she was seven everybody had
-taken to the name, and she answered to it as a matter of
-course.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Why did he call her so? Because she was such a prim,
-staid, serious, little old-fashioned body, and consequently
-her mother laughingly took to dressing her in an old-fashioned
-way, so that at last, whether she was out in the
-grounds, or round by the stables with Grant, in her figured
-pink dress, red sash, long gloves, and sun-bonnet, looking after her pets, or
-indoors of an evening, in her yellow brocade, muslin apron—with pockets, of
-course, and quaint mob cap tied up with its ribbon—she always looked serious
-and grandmotherly.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It is her nature to,” Uncle George said, quoting from “Let dogs
-delight;” and when he laughed at her, Gran’ma used to look at him wonderingly
-in the most quaint way, and then put her hand in his, and ask him to
-take her for a walk.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Gran’ma lived in a roomy old house with a delightful garden, surrounded
-by a very high red-brick wall that was covered in the spring with white blossoms,
-and in the autumn with peaches with red cheeks that laughed at her and
-imitated hers; purple plums covered with bloom, and other plums that looked
-like drops of gold among the green leaves; and these used to get so ripe and
-juicy in the hot sun, that they would crack and peer out at her as if asking to
-be eaten before they fell down and wasted their rich honey juice on the ground.
-Then there were great lumbering looking pears which worried John, the gardener,
-because they grew so heavy that they tore the nails out of the walls, and
-had to be fastened up again—old John giving Gran’ma the shreds to hold
-while he went up the ladder with his hammer, and a nail in his mouth.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>That garden was Gran’ma’s world, it was so big; and on fine mornings she
-could be seen seriously wandering about with Dinnywinkle, her little sister, up
-this way, down that, under the apple-trees, along the gooseberry and currant
-alleys, teaching her and Grant that it was not proper to go on the beds when
-there were plenty of paths, and somehow Dinnywinkle, who was always
-bubbling over with fun, did as the serious little thing told her in the most obedient
-of ways, and helped her to scold Grant, who was much harder to teach.</p>
-
-<div class='figright id039'>
-<img src='images/illus060.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>For Grant, whose papa was a setter, and mamma a very lady-like retriever,
-always had ideas in his head that there were wild
-beasts hiding in the big garden, and as soon as his
-collar was unfastened, and he was taken down the
-grounds for a run, he seemed to run
-mad. His ears went up, his tail began
-to wave, and he dashed about frantically
-to hunt for those imaginary wild
-beasts. He barked till he was hoarse
-sometimes, when after a good deal of
-rushing about he made a discovery, and
-would then look up triumphantly at
-Gran’ma, and point at his find with his
-nose, till she came up to see what he
-had discovered. One time it would be
-a snail, at another a dead mouse killed
-by the cat, and not eaten because it was
-a shrew. Upon one occasion, when
-the children ran up, it was to find the
-dog half wild as he barked to them to come and see what he was holding
-down under his paw,—this proving to be an unfortunate frog which uttered
-a dismal squeal from time to time till Gran’ma set it at liberty, so that it could
-make long hops into a bed of ivy, where it lived happily long afterwards, to
-sit there on soft wet nights under a big leaf like an umbrella, and softly whistle
-the frog song which ends every now and then in a croak.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Grant was always obedient when he was caught, and then he would walk
-steadily along between Gran’ma and Dinny, each holding one of his long silky
-ears, with the prisoner making no effort to escape.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But the job was to catch him; and on these occasions Gran’ma used to run
-and run fast, while Dinny ran in another direction to cut Grant off.</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id040'>
-<img src='images/illus061.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>And a pretty chase he led them, letting them get close up, and then giving
-a joyous bark and leaping sidewise, to dash off in quite a fresh direction.
-Here he would perhaps hide, crouching down under one of the shrubs, ready
-to pounce out on his pursuers, and then dash away again, showing his teeth as
-if he were laughing, and in his frantic delight waltzing round and round after
-his tail. Then away he would bound on to the closely shaven lawn, throw
-himself down, roll over and over, and set Dinny laughing and clapping her
-hands to see him play one of his favorite tricks, which was to lay his nose
-down close to the grass, first on one side
-and then on the other, pushing it along as
-if it was a plough, till he sprang up and
-stood barking and wagging his tail, as
-much as to say, “What do you think of
-that for a game?” ending by running helter-skelter
-after a blackbird which flew away,
-crying “Chink—chink—chink.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>That was a famous old wilderness of a
-place, with great stables and out-houses,
-where there was bright golden straw, and
-delicious sweet-scented hay, and in one
-place a large bin with a lid, and half-full of
-oats, with which Gran’ma used to fill a
-little cross-handled basket.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now, Grant,” she cried, as she shut
-down the lid, after refusing to let Dinny
-stand in the bin and pour oats over her head and down her back—“Now,
-Grant!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Wuph!” said Grant, and he took hold of the basket in his teeth, and
-trotted on with it before her round the corner, to stop before the hutches that
-stood outside in the sun.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Here, if Dinny was what Gran’ma called “a good girl,” she had a treat.
-For this was where the rabbits lived.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Old Brownsmith sent those rabbits, hutch and all, as a present for Gran’ma,
-one day when John went to the market garden with his barrow to fetch what
-he called some “plarnts;” and when he came back with the barred hutch, and
-set the barrow down in the walk, mamma went out with Gran’ma and Dinny,
-to look at them, and Grant came up growling, sniffed all round the hutch before
-giving a long loud bark, which, being put into plain English, meant, “Open
-the door, and I’ll kill all the lot.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I don’t know what to say, John,” said mamma, shaking her head. “It
-is very kind of Mr. Brownsmith, but I don’t think your master will like the
-children to keep them, for fear they should be neglected and die.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“’Gleckted?” said old John, rubbing one ear. “What! little miss here
-’gleck ’em? Not she. You’ll feed them rabbuds reg’lar, miss, wontcher?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Gran’ma said she would, and the hutch was wheeled round by the stables,
-Grant following and looking very much puzzled, for though he never hunted
-the cats now, rabbits did seem the right things to kill.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But Gran’ma soon taught him better, and he became the best of friends
-with Brown Downie and her two children, Bunny and White Paws.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>In fact, one day there was a scene, for Cook rushed into the schoolroom
-during lesson time, out of breath with excitement.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Please’m, I went down the garden, ’m, to get some parsley, and that
-horrid dog’s hunting the rabbits, and killing ’em.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>There was a cry from both children, and Gran’ma rushed out and round to
-the stables, to find the hutch door unfastened, and the rabbits gone, while, as
-she turned back to the house with the tears running down her cheeks, who
-should come trotting up but Grant, with his ears cocked, and Bunny hanging
-from his jaws as if dead.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Gran’ma uttered a cry; and as Mamma came up with Dinny, the dog set
-the little rabbit down, looked up and barked, and Bunny began loping off to
-nibble the flowers, not a bit the worse, while Grant ran and turned him back
-with his nose, for Gran’ma to catch the little thing up in her arms.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Grant barked excitedly, and ran down the garden again, the whole party
-following, and in five minutes he had caught White Paw.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Dinny had the carrying of this truant, and with another bark, Grant dashed
-in among the gooseberry bushes, where there was a great deal of rustling,
-a glimpse of something brown, and then of a white cottony tail. Then in
-spite of poor Grant getting his nose pricked with the thorns, Brown Downie
-was caught and held by her ears till mamma lifted her up, and she was
-carried in triumph back, Grant trotting on before, and leading the way to the
-stable-yard and the hutch, turning round every now and then to bark.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The rabbits did not get out again, and every morning and evening they were
-fed as regularly as Gran’ma fed herself.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>On reaching the hutch, Grant set the basket down, leaving the handle rather
-wet, though he could easily have wiped it with his ears, and then he sat down
-in a dreamy way, half closing his eyes and possibly thinking about wild rabbits
-on heaths where he could hunt them through furze bushes, while Gran’ma in
-the most serious way possible opened the hutch door.</p>
-
-<div class='figright id041'>
-<img src='images/illus063.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>There was no difficulty about catching White Paw, for he was ready enough
-to thrust his nose into
-his little mistress’s
-hand, and be lifted
-out by his ears, and
-held for Dinny to
-stroke.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now let me take
-him,” she cried.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No, my dear, you
-are too young yet,”
-said Gran’ma; and
-Dinny had to be content
-with smoothing down White Paw’s soft brown fur, as it nestled up
-against its mistress’s breast, till it was put back kicking, and evidently longing
-to escape from its wooden-barred prison, even if it was to be hunted by Grant.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then Bunny had his turn, and was duly lifted out and smoothed; after
-which, Brown Downie, who was too heavy to lift, gave the floor of the hutch a
-sharp rap with one foot, making Grant lift his ear and utter a deep sigh.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No,” he must have thought; “it’s very tempting, but I must not seize
-her by the back and give her a shake.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then the trough was filled with oats, the door fastened, and the girls looked
-on as three noses were twitched and screwed about, and a low munching sound
-arose.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Three rabbits and a dog! Enough pets for any girl, my reader; but
-Gran’ma had another—Buzz, a round, soft-furred kitten with about as much
-fun in it as could be squeezed into so small a body. But Buzz had a temper,
-possibly soured by jealousy of Grant, whom he utterly detested.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Buzz’s idea of life was to be always chasing something,—his tail, a shadow,
-the corner of the table-cover, or his mistress’s dress. He liked to climb, too, on
-to tables, up the legs, into the coal-scuttle, behind the sideboard, and above
-all, up the curtains, so as to turn the looped-up part into a hammock, and sleep
-there for hours. Anywhere forbidden to a respectable kitten was Buzz’s favorite
-spot, and especially inside the fender, where the blue tiles at the back
-reflected the warmth of the fire, and the brown tiles of the hearth were so bright
-that he could see other kittens in them, and play with them, dabbing at them
-with his velvet paw.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Buzz had been dragged out from that forbidden ground by his hind leg, and
-by the loose skin at the back of his neck, and he had been punished again and
-again, but still he would go, and strange to say, he took a fancy to rub himself
-up against the upright brass dogs from the tip of his nose to the end of his
-tail, and then repeat it on the other side.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But Gran’ma’s pet did not trespass without suffering for it. Both his
-whiskers were singed off close, and there was a brown, rough, ill-smelling
-bit at the end of his tail where, in turning round, he had swept it amongst the
-glowing cinders, giving him so much pain that he uttered a loud “Mee-yow!”
-and bounded out of the room, looking up at Gran’ma the while as if he believed
-that she had served him like that.</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id042'>
-<img src='images/illus064.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>In Gran’ma’s very small old-fashioned way, one of her regular duties was
-to get papa’s blue cloth fur-lined slippers, and put them
-against the fender to warm every night, ready for him
-when he came back tired from London; and no sooner
-were those slippers set down to toast, than Buzz, who
-had been watching attentively, went softly from his
-cushion where he had been pretending to be asleep, but
-watching all the time with one eye, and carefully packed
-himself in a slipper, thrusting his nose well down, drawing
-his legs right under him, and snoozling up so
-compactly that he exactly fitted it, and seemed part of a fur cushion made in
-the shape of a shoe.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But Buzz was not allowed to enjoy himself in that fashion for long. No
-sooner did Gran’ma catch sight of what he had done than she got up, went to
-the fireplace, gravely lifted the slipper, and poured Buzz out on to the hearth-rug,
-replaced the slipper where it would warm, and went back, to find, five
-minutes later, that the kitten had fitted himself into the other slipper, with
-only his back visible, ready to be poured out again. Then, in a half-sulky,
-cattish way, Buzz would go and seat himself on his square cushion, and watch,
-while, to guard them from any more such intrusions, Gran’ma picked up the
-slippers and held them to her breast until such time as her father came home.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Those were joyous times at the old house, till one day there was a report
-spread in the village that little Gran’ma was ill. The doctor’s carriage was
-seen every day at the gate, and then twice a day, and there were sorrow and
-despair where all had been so happy. Dinny went alone with Grant to feed
-the rabbits; and there were no more joyous rushes round the garden, for the
-dog would lie down on the doorstep with his head between his paws, and watch
-there all day, and listen for the quiet little footstep that never came. Every
-day old John, the gardener, brought up a bunch of flowers for the little child
-lying fevered and weak, with nothing that would cool her burning head, and
-three anxious faces were constantly gazing for the change that they prayed
-might come.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>For the place seemed no longer the same without those pattering feet.
-Cook had been found crying in a chair in the kitchen; and when asked why,
-she said it was because Grant had howled in the night, and she knew now that
-dear little Gran’ma would never be seen walking so sedately round the garden
-again.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was of no use to tell her that Grant had howled because he was miserable
-at not seeing his little mistress: she said she knew better.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Don’t tell me,” she cried; “look at him.” And she pointed to where
-the dog had just gone down to the gate, for a carriage had stopped, and the
-dog, after meeting the doctor, walked up behind him to the house, waited till
-he came out, and then walked down behind him to the gate, saw him go, and
-came back to lie down in his old place on the step, with his head between his
-paws.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>They said that they could not get Grant to eat, and it was quite true, for the
-little hands which fed him were not there; and the house was very mournful and
-still, even Dinny having ceased to shout and laugh, for they told her she
-must be very quiet, because Gran’ma was so ill.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>From that hour Dinny went about the place like a mouse, and her favorite
-place was on the step by Grant, who, after a time, took to laying his head in
-her lap, and gazing up at her with his great brown eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And they said that Gran’ma knew no one now, but lay talking quickly
-about losing the rabbits and about Dinny and Grant; and then there came a
-day when she said nothing, but lay very still as if asleep.</p>
-
-<div class='figleft id043'>
-<img src='images/illus066.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>That night as the doctor was going, he said softly that he could do no more,
-but that those who loved the little quiet
-child must pray to God to spare her to
-them; and that night, too, while tears were
-falling fast, and there seemed to be no
-hope, Grant, in his loneliness and misery,
-did utter a long, low, mournful howl.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But next morning, after a weary night,
-those who watched saw the bright glow of
-returning day lighting up the eastern sky,
-and the sun had not long risen before
-Gran’ma woke as if from a long sleep,
-looked up in her mother’s eyes as if she
-knew her once more, and the great time of
-peril was at an end.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>All through the worst no hands but her mother’s had touched her; but
-now a nurse was brought in to help—a quiet, motherly, North-country woman
-who one day stood at the door, and held up her hands in astonishment, for
-she had been busy down-stairs for an hour, and now that she had returned
-there was a great reception on the bed: Buzz was seated on the pillow purring;
-the rabbits all three were playing at the bed being a warren, and loping
-in and out from the valance; Grant was seated on a chair with his head close
-up to his mistress’s breast; and Dinny was reading aloud from a picture storybook
-like this, but the book was upside down, and she invented all she said.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Bless the bairn! what does this mean?” cried nurse.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It meant that Dinny had brought up all Gran’ma’s friends, and that the
-poor child was rapidly getting well.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id044'>
-<img src='images/illus067.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>The Sunshine Corner</h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Miss Myrtle read to the children this afternoon an Account
-sent by her married cousin, Mrs. Pingry. Mrs. Pingry wrote:
-“I spell it with a big A, just for fun, because it is of so small a matter,
-but it was a sunshiny matter for it caused some smiling, and it brought
-out real kindness from several persons.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Mr. Pingry goes in on the 8.17 train and attends to his furnace
-the last thing, allowing twelve minutes to reach the station. When
-about half-way there, yesterday, it occurred to him that he forgot to
-shut the drafts. Just then he met Jerry Snow, the man at the Binney
-place, and asked him to please call round our way, and ask for Mrs.
-Pingry, and say Mr. Pingry had left the drafts open. Jerry said he
-would after going to the post-office, but Mr. Pingry, fearing Jerry
-might forget, called hastily at the door of Madam Morey, an elderly
-woman who does plain sewing, and said he forgot to shut the furnace
-drafts; if she should see a boy passing would she ask him to call at
-our door, and ask for Mrs. Pingry, and tell her? Madam said she
-would be on the lookout for a boy, while doing her baking.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now as Mr. Pingry was hurrying on, it came to him that he had
-not yet made a sure thing of it, and at that moment he saw the woman
-who does chore-work at the Binney’s, coming by a path across the
-field. He met her at the fence, and asked if she would go around by
-our house and say to Mrs. Pingry that Mr. Pingry had left the drafts
-all open. She agreed, and Mr. Pingry ran to his train, a happy man.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now Madam Morey felt anxious about the furnace, and stepped
-often to the window, and at last spied a small boy with a sled, and
-finding he knew where we live, told him Mr. Pingry went away and
-forgot to shut the furnace drafts and wished to send back word,
-and would the boy coast down that way and tell Mrs. Pingry? The
-boy promised, and coasted down the hill.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Madam Morey still felt uneasy about the furnace, and not being
-sure the boy would do the errand kept on the watch for another; and
-when the banana-man stopped and made signs at her window ‘would
-she buy?’ she wrote a few words on a bit of brown paper and went
-with him far enough to point out the house and made signs, ‘would he
-leave the paper there?’ He made signs ‘yes?’ and passed on.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now at about half-past eight, our front doorbell rang and I heard
-a call for me. I hurried down, and received the chore-woman’s message
-and acted upon it at once.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Sometime afterwards, as I was in the back-chamber, I heard voices
-outside and saw six or eight small boys trying to pull their sleds over
-a fence, and wondered how they happened to be coasting in such a
-place. Presently I heard a commotion on the other side and went to
-the front windows. All the sleds were drawn up near the steps, and
-the small boys were stamping around like an army come to take the
-house. Seeing me they all shouted something at me. They seemed
-so terribly in earnest, and came in such a strange way, that I flew
-down, sure something dreadful had happened—perhaps Willy was
-drowned! and I began to tremble. At sight of me at the door they
-all shouted again, but I did not understand. I caught hold of the biggest
-boy and pulled him inside, and said to him, in a low, tremulous
-voice, ‘Tell me! What is it?’ He answered, in a bashful way, ‘Mr.
-Pingry said he left the drafts open.’ ‘Thank you all!’ I said.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Next, the banana-man, bobbing his head, and making signs,
-though I shook my head ‘no.’ Finally up came Bridget with a slip of
-brown paper having written on it, but no name signed: ‘Your furnace
-drafts are open.’ Such a shout as went up from us!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Grand company coming, I guess! exclaimed my sister, a short
-time afterwards. Sure enough there stood a carriage and span. Jerry
-Snow, it seems, forgot our furnace until he went to look at his own.
-He was then just about to take Mrs. Binney out for an airing. He
-mentioned it to her and she had him drive round with the message.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“By this time we were ready to go off, explode, shout, giggle, at
-the approach of any one; and when Madam Morey stepped up on our
-piazza we bent ourselves double with laughter, and my sister went
-down upon the floor all in a heap, saying, ‘Do—you—suppose—she—comes—for
-that?’</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Even so. She had worried, thinking the hot pipes might heat
-the woodwork, and half-expected to hear the cry of ‘fire!’ and bells
-ringing, and could not sit still in her chair, and in the goodness of her
-heart she left her work and came all the way over!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh! we had fun with Mr. Pingry that evening. But now, my
-dear Miss Myrtle, the funniest part of all was that Mr. Pingry did not
-forget to shut the drafts!”</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Miss Fillissy-Follissy.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'>A SLUMBER SONG.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div><a href="music/a_slumber_song.mp3" class="x-ebookmaker-drop">Listen</a></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id045'>
-<a href='images/a_slumber_song.png'><img src='images/illus069.jpg' alt='A SLUMBER SONG. Words by M. H. Music by F. E. S. Softly throughout, but well accented.' class='ig001' /></a>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>1. Sleep, oh sleep, my lambs a-wea-ry! Shin-ing sun-beams all are o’er;</div>
- <div class='line'>’Tis the time when lit-tle children Sail a-way to slum-ber shore.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>2. Glid-ing, glid-ing to the mu-sic Of a ten-der, tender lulla-by</div>
- <div class='line'>Gent-ly drift the lads and lass-es When the stars come out on high.</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>3. Soft-ly to the swaying grass-es Fall the gracious drops of dew;</div>
- <div class='line'>Yet more soft-ly at the gloaming Close the bairn-ies’ eyes of blue.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id046'>
-<img src='images/illus070.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id047'>
-<img src='images/illus071.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>THE GROCER’S BOY.</h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Sammy Swattles wasn’t a bad boy, you understand; he was
-simply thoughtless. He thoughtlessly did things which robbed
-him of peace of mind for some time after he did them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When Sammy was ten years old he had to leave school, to go to
-work for Mr. Greens, the grocer, in order to help support his mother.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He did a great many things for the grocer, from seven o’clock in
-the morning till six at night, but his principal work was to place large
-paper bags on the scales and fill them with flour from the barrel.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the bag weighed twenty-three pounds, Sammy had to seal
-it up and take it to the family it was ordered for. The grocer allowed
-him two cents for every bag he carried, over and above his wages,
-which were $2.50 per week. Some weeks Sammy made over $3.00
-which helped his mother to run their little house quite comfortably.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Now, Sammy, in his thoughtlessness, used to sample quite a good
-deal of the grocer’s preserved ginger. Every time he would pass the
-tin boxes of ginger, he would thoughtlessly take a piece, and it would
-disappear in the recesses of Sammy’s rosy mouth.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>One night, after he had locked up all but the front door of the store,
-he helped himself to quite a large piece of the ginger, and walked
-home.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He did not care for any supper that night. He felt as if bed was
-the best place for his troubled little stomach.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He hadn’t been in bed two minutes when a little fierce man, with a
-white cloth round his black body and a huge grin on his ebony face,
-bounded into his room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>With a scream Sammy leaped out of bed and bounded out of the
-window. With a yell the Indian was after him. Sammy flew down
-the road like a runaway colt, the black man in his rear yelling like
-thunder and lions. Sammy never ran so fast in his life, but the little
-black man gained on him, and finally caught him!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sammy pleaded hard to be spared to his mother, but the little man
-grimly took him by the collar, and with one leap landed him on the
-island of Ceylon, in the Indian Ocean, at a place called Kandy. Then
-he led Sammy out into the country, and blew a whistle. In an instant
-they were surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of men, women and
-boys, all as black as Sammy’s captor. Sammy cried:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What have I done! what have I done!” and they all cried:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You have taken the ginger that we have gathered by hard work,
-without permission, and you are condemned to live here for the rest
-of your life on ginger alone!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then Sammy began to cry real hard, for he thought of his poor
-mother, off there in Massachusetts, wondering day after day, “What
-has become of my Sammy!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And then to be compelled to eat nothing but ginger all his life!
-It was awful! He already hated ginger. He looked so woebegone
-that they all cried:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If you will promise to be good, and think before you do things,
-we will let you go! But if you don’t keep your promise we’ll get you
-again, and then, look out!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>So Sammy promised, and ran for home. But the black people
-seemed to regret having let him off so easily, and they all came trooping
-after him!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>You should have seen Sammy run! He went over through India,
-and across Afghanistan, Persia and Turkey like a streak of lightning!
-He plunged into the Mediterranean and swam across to Italy.
-From Italy he swam to Spain; and across Spain, from Tarragona to
-Cape Finisterre, he ran like the Rapids of the River St. Lawrence, the
-black people at his heels!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He was almost exhausted as he dove off Cape Finisterre into the
-broad Atlantic, and he would have sunk down deep, for fifteen or
-twenty miles, if a friendly dolphin hadn’t come along and invited him
-to ride on its shiny back!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The black men gave up the chase then, and the dolphin swam over
-to Massachusetts Bay, up Boston Harbor, to the Charles River, to the
-bridge by Sammy’s home. There the dolphin said good-by, told
-Sammy to always be a good boy, and then, with a flip of its tail, it
-rushed down the river—and Sammy awoke!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It had all been a dream, of course; but it cured Sammy of thoughtlesness,
-and nobody ever had cause again to say that Sammy Swattles
-wasn’t all a nice little boy should be. He told his employer all about
-it, and his employer said: “Well, be a good boy, and never do anything
-without thinking of whether it’s right or wrong to do it.”</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>John Ernest McCann.</i></span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'><span class='sc'>An Absent-minded Man.</span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figleft id048'>
-<img src='images/illus073a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='figright id049'>
-<img src='images/illus073e.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='large'>H</span>e lit a candle for young Ted.</div>
- <div class='line'>This absent minded man.</div>
- <div class='line'>—Twas time to send the boy to bed—</div>
- <div class='line'>But something else came in his head,</div>
- <div class='line in4'>Some problem or some plan.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id050'>
-<img src='images/illus073b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='large'>H</span>is thoughts were miles and miles away,</div>
- <div class='line'>But still the taper there,</div>
- <div class='line'>While he was thinking, seemed to say,</div>
- <div class='line'>“Bed! Bed! I’ll burn out if I stay!”</div>
- <div class='line in4'>And scolded with its glare.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id051'>
-<img src='images/illus073c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='large'>A</span>nd so he took Ted’s candle light</div>
- <div class='line'>—Ted grinned, the little elf—</div>
- <div class='line'>And bade, with manner most polite,</div>
- <div class='line'>His son a very sweet good-night,</div>
- <div class='line in4'>And went to bed himself.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id052'>
-<img src='images/illus073d.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id053'>
-<img src='images/illus074a.jpg' alt='Good King Grin. KING GRIN PRINCE LAUGH' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>Good King Grin.</h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='figleft id054'>
-<img src='images/illus074b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>THE JESTER.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='large'>T</span>here is a King in Nonsense Land</div>
- <div class='line'>Whose castle, neither tall nor grand,</div>
- <div class='line'>Is gaily perched upon a hill</div>
- <div class='line'>Behind the town of Jolliville.</div>
- <div class='line'>A spangled jester lets you in—</div>
- <div class='line'>Whoever calls on good King Grin.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figright id054'>
-<img src='images/illus074c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>“QUITE BALD.”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>His height in feet is only four;</div>
- <div class='line'>Around his waist is one foot more;</div>
- <div class='line'>His mouth is wide; his eyes are twinkles</div>
- <div class='line'>Half hidden in a net of wrinkles;</div>
- <div class='line'>His beard is red; his hair is thin—</div>
- <div class='line'>In fact, quite bald is good King Grin.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figleft id055'>
-<img src='images/illus074d.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic004'>
-<p>PRINCESS GIGGLE.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>His family—beneath the sun</div>
- <div class='line'>You never saw a happier one:</div>
- <div class='line'>The good Queen Smile, so fair to see;</div>
- <div class='line'>Prince Laugh, the heir-apparent he;</div>
- <div class='line'>And Princess Giggle’s baby din—</div>
- <div class='line'>Is life and joy to good King Grin.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Three ministers of state has he:</div>
- <div class='line'>Prime Minister is Pleasantry;</div>
- <div class='line'>In Foreign Matters, great and small,</div>
- <div class='line'>Good-Nature ministers to all;</div>
- <div class='line'>And Cheerfulness, when bills come in,</div>
- <div class='line'>Is Treasurer to good King Grin.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id056'>
-<img src='images/illus075a.jpg' alt='Ministers of State' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>His courser is a palfry stout,</div>
- <div class='line'>And when the good king rides about,</div>
- <div class='line'>The very babies crow for joy:</div>
- <div class='line'>From peasant-man and peasant-boy,</div>
- <div class='line'>From landed knight and all his kin,</div>
- <div class='line'>Arise one cry: “Long live King Grin.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id057'>
-<img src='images/illus075b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-<div class='ic057'>
-<p><span class='small'><i>Ralph Bergengren.</i></span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <h2 class='c004'><i>A Funny Twin Brother</i></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class='c005'>
- <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus076.jpg' width='113' alt='' />
-</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
-Last sum-mer when we were in the coun-try
-hav-ing a hap-py ho-li-day, we of-ten went
-in-to the hay-field, and you lit-tle ones may
-fan-cy the fun we had. John-ny and Lil-ly
-rolled in the sweet fresh hay, and were
-bu-ried and came up a-gain ma-ny and
-ma-ny a time; and just when we thought there was not
-a bit of chub-by child to be seen, a round red laugh-ing
-face would peep out, fol-lowed by a sort of wind-mill of
-arms and legs.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was on a bright sum-mer’s day in that hay-field that
-we met Tim and his lit-tle mis-tress. “Who was Tim?”
-you say. Well, Tim was a don-key, and such a hap-py
-pet-ted don-key has sel-dom been seen be-fore. Liz-zy—the
-lit-tle girl you see in the pic-ture—was the far-mer’s
-daugh-ter, and as she led Tim round her fa-ther’s field,
-she picked up the sweet hay and fed him with it.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When Tim and lit-tle Liz-zy came near us, we all went
-up to pat the don-key: then the lit-tle girl told us how
-good and gen-tle her Tim was. “We are very luc-ky to
-have such a good don-key,” said she.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And I think he is luc-ky to have such a good lit-tle
-mis-tress,” said I.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, but he be-longs to us all,” an-swered the child,
-“and there are six of us; we all feed and pet him. My
-father bought him when he was quite lit-tle. He is five
-years old now; just the same age as my lit-tle bro-ther
-Willy. So he is his Twin Bro-ther you see,” ad-ded
-Liz-zy grave-ly.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter id058'>
-<img src='images/illus077.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div class='figcenter id044'>
-<img src='images/illus079a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div>
- <h2 class='c004'>Sam on the kitchen funnel blew</h2>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='figright id059'>
-<img src='images/illus079b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Sam on the kitchen funnel blew,</span></div>
- <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>The dinner-bell Jane rang;</span></div>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The bellows made a nice guitar,</span></div>
- <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>Min played while Alice sang.</span></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Tom came to hear us, Tabby too,</span></div>
- <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>Who brought her kittens three;</span></div>
- <div class='line'><span class='sc'>And also Flora with her pup;</span></div>
- <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>We let them all in—free!</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id044'>
-<img src='images/illus079c.jpg' alt='_S Birch_' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id060'>
-<img src='images/illus080.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>TO</div>
- <div>WEE PEOPLE</div>
- <div>WHO MAKE HOME</div>
- <div>HAPPY WITH ARTLESS</div>
- <div>PRATTLE AND MERRY</div>
- <div>PLAY, THIS BOOK IS</div>
- <div>LOVINGLY</div>
- <div>DEDICATED.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='pbb'>
- <hr class='pb c013' />
-</div>
-<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'>
-
-<div class='section ph2'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c003'>
- <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
- <ol class='ol_1 c002'>
- <li>Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
-
- </li>
- <li>Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.
- </li>
- </ol>
-
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK ***</div>
-<div style='text-align:left'>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will
-be renamed.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
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-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
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-<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br />
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max-width: 25%; } + .hidden { visibility: hidden; display: none; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } + </style> + </head> + <body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Little Tot’s Own Book, by Anonymous</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> + +<table style='min-width:0; padding:0; margin-left:0; border-collapse:collapse'> + <tr><td>Title:</td><td>Our Little Tot’s Own Book</td></tr> + <tr><td></td><td>of Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and Jingles</td></tr> +</table> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Anonymous</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 17, 2021 [eBook #65368]</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: Richard Tonsing, Juliet Sutherland, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net</div> + +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/illus001.jpg' alt=' “What do they say in Baby-land?” “Why, the oddest things; Might as well Try to tell What a birdie sings!”' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id002'> +<img src='images/illus002.jpg' alt=' BABY-LAND. “How many miles to Baby-land?” “Any one can tell; Up one flight, To your right: Please to ring the bell.” “What do they do in Baby-land?” “Dream and wake and play; Laugh and crow, Shout and grow: Happy times have they!”' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id003'> +<img src='images/illus005.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='titlepage'> + +<div> + <h1 class='c001'>OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK<br /> <span class='small'>OF</span><br /> <span class='large'><i>Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and Jingles</i>.</span></h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div>NEW YORK:</div> + <div><span class='xlarge'>HURST & COMPANY,</span></div> + <div>PUBLISHERS.</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='box'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1912</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>—BY—</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>HURST & COMPANY</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c005'><i><span class='small'>There was once a very happy little girl who spent her childhood on an old green farm. +She had a little sister, and these two children never knew what it was to possess toys from +the stores, but played, played, played from dawn till dark, just in the play-places they found +on that green farmstead. I so often have to tell my children “how mama used to play”—for +I was that very happy little girl—that I think other “little women” of these days will +enjoy knowing about those dear old simple play-times.</span></i></p> + +<h3 class='c006'>I.—THE LITTLE STUMP-HOUSE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>One of my pet playhouses was an old stump, out in the pasture. +Such a dear, old stump as it was, and so large I could not put +my arms more than half way round it!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Some of its roots were partly bare of earth for quite a little distance +from the stump, and between these roots were great green +velvety moss cushions.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the side, above the largest moss cushion, was a little shelf where +a bit of the stump had fallen away. On this little shelf I used to +place a little old brass candlestick. I used to play that that part of +the stump was my parlor.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Above the next moss cushion were a number of shelves where I laid +pieces of dark-blue broken china I had found and washed clean in the +brook. That was my dining-room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There were two or three little bedrooms where the puffy moss beds +were as soft as down. My rag dolly had many a nap on those little +green beds, all warmly covered up with big sweet-smelling ferns.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then there was the kitchen! Hardly any moss grew there. I +brought little white pebbles from the brook, and made a pretty, white +floor. Into the side of the stump above this shining floor, I drove a +large nail. On this nail hung the little tin pan and iron spoon with +which I used to mix up my mud pies.</p> + +<p class='c008'>My sister had a stump much like mine, and such fine times as the +owners of those two little stump-houses used to have together, only +little children know anything about.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/illus009.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>THE STUMP PLAY-HOUSE.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id005'> +<img src='images/illus010a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>THE STOLEN LITTLE ONE.<br /> <span class='large'>A TRUE STORY.</span></h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='figleft id006'> +<img src='images/illus010b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Two little girls went shopping with their mamma. While she +was at the end of the store, Julie, the youngest, ran to the door. +Her mother was too busy to notice her, but Julie’s sister Mattie was +watching her. She saw +a tall woman pass the +door, and snatch up little +Julie. Without a word +to her mother, Mattie ran +after them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Away they went down +the street. The woman +would soon have outrun +Mattie, but her screams +attracted the attention of +a policeman. He followed +too. They came +up with the woman as she +was darting into a cellar. Mattie told the policeman that the bad +woman had stolen her sister Julie. He soon took both children +home. Their mother was overjoyed to see them, and praised Mattie +for being such a brave little girl. She never let Julie go out of her +sight again, when she took her out on the street.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'>PINK HUNTER.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>II.-THE OLD APPLE-TREE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>There was an old apple-tree in the orchard that was the oldest +tree in the town. It overtopped the house, and the trunk was +very big and brown and rough; but O, the millions of fine green leaves, +as soft and smooth as silk, that it held up in the summer air!</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the spring it was gay with pink and white blossoms, and then +for days the tree would be all alive with the great, black-belted bees. +A little later those sweet blossoms would fall off in a rosy rain, and +Myra and I would stand under the old apple-tree and try to catch the +little, fluttering things in our apron! And then, later still, came little +apples, very sour at first, but slowly sweetening until it seemed to me +that those juicy, golden-green apples tasted the best of any fruit in all +the world! My apron-pockets were always bursting with them!</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was a famous horse up in the old tree. It could only be +reached by means of a ladder placed against the old tree’s stout trunk! +A strange horse, you would call him, but O, the famous rides that I +have had on that horse’s broad, brown back! The name of the horse +was “General.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Up among the leaves where the sunshine played hide-and-seek was +one dear bough that was just broad enough and just crooked enough +to form a nice seat. Another bough bent round just in the very place +to form a most comfortable back to that seat. A pair of stirrups made +of rope, some rope reins tied to the trunk of the tree, and there was +my horse, “all saddled and all bridled!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>I put my feet into the stirrups, shake my bridle-reins and cry, +“Get up, General!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The bough would sway a little, and I and the birds would be off +together, swinging and singing, up in a fair green world where there +was no one to disturb nest or little rider! The birds would sing to me, +and I would sing to them, and which of those little singers was the +happiest, I do not know!</p> + +<p class='c008'>But I do know that my little heart was full of glee and joy to the +brim!</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id007'> +<img src='images/illus012.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>RIDING “GENERAL.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id008'> +<img src='images/illus013.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>SHE WISHED TO BE A PRINCESS.<br /> <span class='large'><i>A True Story.</i></span></h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Little Mary had had a volume of Hans Andersen’s Fairy Stories +given her at Christmas. The story she liked best was “The +Princess and the Pea,” for, like all little girls, little Mary had a natural +desire to be a Princess.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When she went to bed at night with her doll little Mary would +think to herself, “Oh, how beautiful to be a real princess of such very +fine blood as to feel a little bit of a pea under twenty mattresses!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>One morning a comforting idea came to little Mary. “Who +knows,” she said to herself, “with all my very many great grandfathers +and grandmothers, but p’raps I am related to some King or +Queen way back?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Thereupon, she went to her mother’s pantry and took a bean from +the jar—as large a one as she could find—and, going to her room, +put it carefully under the hair mattress. That night she went to bed +happy, with joyful hopes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the morning little Mary’s elder sister found her with her head +buried in her pillow crying. “Oh,” little Mary sobbed, “I did think +I might have just a little speck of royal blood in my veins, but I +couldn’t feel even that big bean under just one mattress!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nothing would comfort little Mary until her mama explained to +her that even princesses were not happy unless they had good hearts; +and <i>she</i> could have, if she tried, just as good and royal a heart as any +Princess under the sun.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Anne Fiske Davenport.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>III.—THE LITTLE POND.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>Out in the pasture, was a little pond. This little pond was quite +deep in the time of the spring and autumn rains. At such +seasons Myra and I would take our little raft made of boards, and by +means of some stout sticks would push the raft around on that little +pond for hours. The wind would raise little waves, and these waves +would splash up against the sides of our little raft with a delicious sort +of noise.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to dress a smooth stick of wood in doll’s clothes. We +used to call this wooden dolly by the name of Mrs. Pippy. We would +take Mrs. Pippy on board our ship as passenger. Somehow, Mrs. +Pippy always contrived to fall overboard. And then, such screaming, +such frantic pushing of that raft as there would he, before that calmly-floating +Mrs. Pippy was rescued!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Just beyond the further edge of the pond was a little swampy +place where great clumps of sweet-flag used to grow. Sweet-flag is a +water-plant whose leaves are very long and slender and their stem-ends, +where they wrap about each other, are good to eat. In summer +this little sweet-flag swamp was perfectly dry. But when the rains +had come and the little pond was full, this little sweet-flag swamp was +covered with water.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Right between the pond and the swamp lay a big timber, stretching +away like a narrow bridge, with the pond-water lapping it on one +side and the swamp-water lapping it on the other. Such exciting times +as we used to have running across that little bridge after sweet-flag!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Run! run!” we would cry to each other; and then, away we +would go, running like the wind, yet very carefully, for the least misstep +was sure to plump us into the water!</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the water in the swamp had nearly dried up, a bed of the +very nicest kind of mud was left. Taking off our shoes and stockings, +we would dance in that sticky mud until we were tired. Then we +would hop over the timber and wash our small toes clean in the pond.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>Clever Tommy.</i></h2> +</div> + +<div class='figleft id009'> +<img src='images/illus015.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>“You like clever cats, Arthur,” +said Laura; “and I +am sure this is one. See how +funnily he is drinking the +milk with his paw. Did you +know this cat, mamma?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, my dear, I was +staying at the house when +his mistress found him out. +We used to wonder sometimes +why there was so little +milk for tea, and my +friend would say ‘They +must drink it in the kitchen, +for the neck of the milk +jug is so narrow, Tom could +not get his great head in.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But Tom was too clever +to be troubled at the narrow +neck of the milk or cream +jug, and one day when his +mistress was coming towards the parlor through the garden, she saw Tom +on the table from the window, dipping his paw into the jug like a spoon +and carrying the milk to his mouth. Did he not jump down quickly, and +hide himself when she walked in, for he well knew he was doing wrong.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And was he punished, mamma?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, Laura, although his mistress scolded him well, and Tom quite +understood, for cats who are kindly treated are afraid of angry words.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Did you ever see Tom drink the milk in this way?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, for his mistress was proud of his cleverness, and she would +place the jug on the floor for him. When she did that, Tom knew he +might drink it, and he would take up the milk in his paw so cleverly +that it was soon gone.”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id010'> +<img src='images/illus016.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>FLOWERS.</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='c011'>H</span>ow stilly, yet how sweetly,</div> + <div class='line in2'>The little while they bloom,</div> + <div class='line'>They teach us quiet trustfulness,</div> + <div class='line'>Allure our hearts from selfishness,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And smile away our gloom:</div> + <div class='line'>So do they prove that heavenly love</div> + <div class='line in2'>Doth every path illume!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>How stilly, yet how sadly,</div> + <div class='line in2'>When summer fleeteth by,</div> + <div class='line'>And their sweet work of life is done,</div> + <div class='line'>They fall and wither, one by one,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And undistinguish’d lie:</div> + <div class='line'>So warning all that Pride must fall,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And fairest forms must die!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>How stilly, yet how surely,</div> + <div class='line in2'>They all will come again,</div> + <div class='line'>In life and glory multiplied,</div> + <div class='line'>To bless the ground wherein they died,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And long have darkly lain:—</div> + <div class='line'>So we may know, e’en here below,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Death has no lasting reign!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>IV.—THE LITTLE BROOK.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>We had a merry playmate in a little brook that ran down through +the sunny meadows! It slipped and slid over little mossy +pebbles and called to us, “Follow, follow, follow!” in the sweetest +little voice in the world!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes, I would kneel down on the little low bank, and bend my +head down close, and ask, “Where are you going, little brook?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>It would splash a cool drop of spray in my face, and run on calling, +“Follow, follow, follow!” just as before.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Wild strawberries grew red and sweet down in the tall grass, and +great purple violets, and tall buttercups nid-nodding in the wind.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Very often Myra and I would take off our shoes and stockings, and +wade. The roguish little brook would tickle my small toes, and try and +trip me up on one of its little mossy stones. Once I did slip and sat +right down in the water with a great splash! And the little brook +took all the starch out of my clothes, and ran off with it in a twinkling.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Now and then, I would fasten a bent pin to a string and tie the +string to the end of a stick and fish for the tiny minnows and tadpoles. +But, somehow, I never caught one of the little darting things. I used +to believe the brook whispered them to keep away from that little +shining hook.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes, I would take a big white chip and load it with pebbles +or violets and send it down stream. The sly little brook would slip my +boat over one of its tiny waterfalls just as quick as it could! If my +little boat was loaded with pebbles, down would go my heavy cargo to +the bottom! But if it were loaded with violets, then a fleet of fairy +purple canoes would float on and on, and away out of sight.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A great green frog with big, staring eyes watched from the side of +the brook. Now and then, he would say, “Ker-chug!” in a deep voice. +I used to ask him in good faith, what “ker-chug!” meant. But he +did not tell, and to this day I have not found out what “ker-chug” +means.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id011'> +<img src='images/illus018.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>“WILD STRAWBERRIES GREW RED AND SWEET DOWN IN THE TALL GRASS.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>V.—THE MEADOW-ROCKS.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>Another place where I played was out on the meadow-rocks. +Right down in a level spot in the meadow were three great +rocks. Each one of these rocks was as large as a dining-room table. +Right through this little flat place ran the brook I have told you about, +bubbling round our three great rocks.</p> + +<p class='c008'>0, what splendid playhouses those rocks were! We each owned +one. The third was owned by that wooden doll, Mrs. Pippy. In order +to get to either one of the houses you had to cross a little bridge that +spanned a tiny river. Also there were dear little steps up the sides of +the rocks which it was such a pleasure to go up and down.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the top of the rocks, which were almost as flat as the top of a +table, were little closely-clinging patches of moss that we called our +rugs. There were queer-shaped hollows in the tops of these rocks. +In one little moss-lined hollow I used to cradle my baby-doll. Another +hollow was my kitchen sink. I used to fill up my sink with bits of +broken dishes, turn on some water from the brook, and then such a +scrubbing as my dishes got!</p> + +<p class='c008'>At the rocks, kneeling down on the planks that formed our bridges, +we used to wash our dollies’ clothes. Then we would spread them on +the grass to dry. Didn’t we use to keep our babies clean and sweet!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Afterwards, pinning our short skirts up about us, we would wash +the floors of our little rock houses until they shone. When everything +was spick-and-span, we would unpin our skirts, pull down our +sleeves, rub our rosy cheeks with a mullein leaf to make them rosier, +and with a big burdock leaf tied on with a couple of strings for a bonnet +we would go calling on our lazy neighbor, Mrs. Pippy, and give +her a serious “talking-to.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Or, perhaps, we would call on each other and talk about the terrible +illnesses our poor children were suffering from. Or, perhaps, we +would go to market. The market consisted of a long row of raspberry +bushes along the meadow fence.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/illus020.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>WASHING-DAY AT THE ROCK-HOUSES.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id012'> +<img src='images/illus021.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>BUT WHEN TO-MORROW</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>But when to-morrow, down the lane,</div> + <div class='line'>I walk among the flowers again,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Between the tall red hollyhocks,</div> + <div class='line'>Here I shall find you as before,</div> + <div class='line'>Asleep within your fastened door,—</div> + <div class='line in2'>My lazy four-o’clocks!</div> + <div class='line in20'><span class='fss'>MARGARET JOHNSON.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id013'> +<img src='images/illus022.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'><i>THE SNOW WITCH.</i></h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>There was skating on the ponds where the snow had been cleared; +there were icicles on the trees, nice blue, clear skies in the daytime, +cold, bright, wintry moonlight at night.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lovely weather for Christmas holidays! But to one little five-year-old +man, nothing had seemed lovely this Christmas, though he was spending +it with his Father and Mother and his big sisters at Grandpapa’s +beautiful old country house, where everybody did all that could be done +to make Grandpapa’s guests happy. For poor little Roger was pining for +his elder brother, Lawson, whom he had not seen for more than four +months. Lawson was eight, and had been at school since Michaelmas, +and there he had caught a fever which had made it not safe for him to join +the rest of the family till the middle of January. But he was coming +to-morrow.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Why, then, did Roger still look sad and gloomy?</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Stupid little boy!” said Mabel. “I’m sure we’ve tried to amuse +him. Why, Mamma let him sit up an hour later than usual last night, +to hear all those funny old fairy tales and legends Uncle Bob was +telling.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, and weren’t they fun?” answered Pansy. “I did shiver at +the witch ones, though, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Poor little Roger! Pansy’s shivering was nothing to his! They had +all walked home from the vicarage, tempted by the clear, frosty moonlight +and the hard, dry ground; and trotting along, a little behind the others, a +strange thing had happened to the boy. Fancy—in the field by the Primrose +Lane, through the gateway, right in a bright band of moonlight, <i>he +had seen a witch</i>. Just such a witch as Uncle Bob had described—with +shadowy garments, and outstretched arms, and a queer-shaped head, on all +of which the icicles were sparkling, +just as Uncle Bob had said. +For it was a winter-witch he had +told the story about, whose dwelling +was up in the frozen northern +seas—“the Snow Witch” they +called her.</p> + +<div class='figleft id014'> +<img src='images/illus023.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Cold as it was, Roger was +in a bath of heat, his heart beating +wildly, his legs shaking, when he +overtook his sisters. And the +night that followed was full of +terrible dreams and starts and +misery, even though nurse and baby were next door, and he could see +the night-light through the chinks. If it had not been that Lawson was +coming—Lawson who never laughed at him or called him “stupid little +goose,” Lawson who listened to all his griefs—Roger could not have +borne it. For, strange to say, the little fellow told no one of his trouble; +he felt as if he could <i>only</i> tell Lawson.</p> + +<p class='c008'>No wonder he looked pale and sad and spiritless; there was still +another dreadful night to get through before Lawson came.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But things sometimes turn out better than our fears. Late that +afternoon, when nursery tea was over and bedtime not far off, there came +the sound of wheels and then a joyful hubbub. Lawson had come! Uncle +Bob had been passing near the school where he was, and had gone a little +out of his way to pick him up. Every one was delighted—oh, of them all, +<i>none</i> so thankful as Roger.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Though I wont tell him to-night,” decided the unselfish little +fellow, “not to spoil his first night. I sha’n’t mind when I know he’s in +his cot beside me.” And even when Lawson lovingly asked him if anything +was the matter, he kept to his resolution.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But he woke in the middle of the night from a terrible dream; +Lawson woke too, and then—out it all came.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I thought she was coming in at the window,” Roger ended. “If—if +you look out—it’s moonlight—I think <i>p’r’aps</i> you’ll see where she stands. +But no, no! Don’t, <i>don’t</i>! She might see you.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>So Lawson agreed to wait till to-morrow.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I have an idea,” said Lawson. “Roger, darling, go to sleep. <i>I’m</i> +here, and you can say your prayers again if you like.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lawson was up very early next morning. And as soon as breakfast +was over he told Roger to come out with him. Down the Primrose Lane +they went, in spite of Roger’s trembling.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now, shut your eyes,” said Lawson, when they got to the gate. +He opened it, and led his brother through.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Look, now!” he said, with a merry laugh. And what do you +think Roger saw?</p> + +<div class='figright id015'> +<img src='images/illus024.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>An old scarecrow, forgotten since last year. There she stood, the +“Snow Witch,” an apron and ragged +shawl, two sticks for arms, a bit of +Grandpapa’s hat, to crown all—that +was the witch!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Shake hands with her, +Roger,” said Lawson. And shake +hands they both did, till the old +scarecrow tumbled to pieces, never +more to frighten either birds or little +boys. “Dear Lawson,” said Roger, +lovingly, as he held up his little face +for a kiss. And happy, indeed, were +the rest of the Christmas holidays.</p> + +<p class='c008'>May they never love each +other less, these two; may they be +true brothers in manhood as they have been in their childish days!</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>L. Molesworth.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>THE THREE BLIND MICE.</i><br /> <span class='large'><i>THE STORY TOLD BY A BROWNIE.</i></span></h2> +</div> + +<div class='c005'> + <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus025.jpg' width='300' alt='' /> +</div><p class='drop-capi_8'> +Well, first of all, I must tell you that I am a +Brownie, and although I am ever and ever so +old, I look as young to-day as I did when +I was but one year old. Well, it was about +seven hundred years ago, and I used to be a +great deal with some other Brownies, cousins of mine, visiting +at the same farm-houses as they did, and helping them +with their work. And it was in this way that I got to know +the Three Blind Mice,—Purrin, Furrin, and Tod.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Pretty, pleasant little fellows they were; and they +were not blind then,—far from it. They lived up in the loft of Dame +Marjoram’s room, over at Fiveoaks Farm.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Such merry supper-parties as never were, I think, before or since, we +used to have then. We would think nothing of finishing a round of apple +and a walnut-shell full of honey between us, in one evening, to say nothing +of scraps of cheese-rind and the crumbs we stole from the birds. Purrin +had a most melodious voice, and could sing a good song, while Tod was +never at a loss for an amusing story. As to Furrin, he was almost as quaint +as our Mr. Puck, and, though perhaps it is not for <i>me</i> to say so, when those +in high places do encourage him, not one-tenth as mischievous.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When Angelina, the old stable cat, had kittens, he would get into all +sorts of out-of-the-way places, and imitate their squeaky little voices, so that +she was always on the fidget, thinking she must have mislaid one somewhere, +and never able to find it. For you see, as she could not count, she +never knew whether they were all beside her or no. Often he would coax +a whole hazel-nut out of Rudge, the Squirrel, who lived on the Hanger, just +above, and whom every one believed to be a miser. And then his Toasting-fork +Dance was so sprightly and graceful, it did your heart good to see +it. Ah, me! those days are gone, and Furrin is gone too; and the Moon, +when she looks through that chink in the barn roof, no longer sees us +feasting and making merry on the great beam.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And this is how they became blind:</p> + +<div class='figright id016'> +<img src='images/illus026.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>They were very fond of Gilliflower, Dame Marjoram’s little daughter, +and after the nurse had put her to bed, Furrin, Purrin, and Tod used to +creep up into her room, and read her some of the funny +little tales from Mouse-land till she went to sleep. She +would lie there with her eyes shut, and perhaps imagined +that it was her own thoughts that made her fancy +all about the fairy tales that came into her head; but +really it was the mice who read them to her, but in such +a low voice that Gilliflower never thought of opening +her eyes to see if any one was there. I must tell you +that the print in Mouse-land is <span class='xxsmall'>very, very small</span> and hard to +read. This did not matter so much during the long +Summer evenings, when there was plenty of light to +see to read by; but when the Winter came on, and the mice had only +the firelight to read by, then reading the small print began to tell its tale. +You know how bad it is for the eyesight to read any print by firelight, and +it must be very much worse when the print is very small; and so Furrin +would say to Purrin, “My eyes are getting quite dim, so now you must +read;” and before Purrin had read a page he would say the same thing to +Tod, and then Tod would try; but after a time their eyes became so dim +they couldn’t see at all, and so they had to invent stories to tell little Gilliflower; +so the poor little mice went quite blind, trying to amuse their little +girl friend.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I took what care of them I could; but their blindness was very sad +for them. No longer had Purrin the heart to sing or Furrin to dance and +jest. Only they would sit close together, each holding one of Tod’s hands, +and listening to his stories, for he kept his spirits best, and did all he could +to cheer the others. All the marketing fell to me then, and it gave me +plenty to do; for, poor souls, the only amusement left them was a dainty +morsel, now and then.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And, by and by, they became so tired of sitting still, when Tod had +exhausted all his stock of stories, that they got reckless, and would go +blundering about the house after Dame Marjoram, whom they knew by +the rustle of her silken +skirt, and the tapping of +her high-heeled shoes. +They all ran after her, +forgetting, that although +they could not see her, +still she could see them, +and trying to follow her +into her store-room, +where the almonds, and +raisins, and sugar, and +candied-peel were kept.</p> + +<div class='figleft id017'> +<img src='images/illus027a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figright id018'> +<img src='images/illus027b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>I told them she would get angry, and that harm would come of it; +but I think their unhappiness and dulness made them quite foolhardy, for +they still went on, getting under her feet, and well-nigh tripping her up; +clambering into the lard-pot before her very eyes; in short, doing a +thousand irritating and injudicious things day by day, until her patience was +quite worn out. And at last, when they scrambled on to the dinner-table, +thinking it to be the store-room shelf, and sat all in a row, quietly eating +out of Miss Gilliflower’s plate, Dame Marjoram, who had the carving-knife +in her hand, thought it high time for them to have a lesson in manners. +So, thinking the knife was turned blunt side downwards, she rapped them +smartly across their three tails. What +was her horror and their dismay, to find +them cut off quite cleanly. The little +tails lay still on the table, and the three +little mice, well-nigh crazed with terror +and pain, groped their way off the table +and out of the room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I was returning from the cheese-room, +and met them crossing the great +hall.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Of course, I took in at a glance all that had occurred, and I must +say that I felt but little surprise, though much sorrow. I guided them to +our old haunt in the loft-roof and then sat down to prepare a Memorial +for Dame Marjoram, giving a full account of all that they had suffered for +the sake of her family.</p> + +<div class='figleft id019'> +<img src='images/illus028a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>This I placed on the top of the key-basket; +and while she was reading it, with my usual tact +I silently brought in Purrin, Furrin, and Tod, and +pushed them forward in front of her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The tears stood in her eyes as she finished +reading my scroll, and from that time forth nothing +was too good for the Three Blind Mice. The good +wife even tried to make new tails for them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But they did not live long to enjoy their new happiness. The loss of +their sight, followed by the shock of having their tails cut off, was too much +for them. They never quite recovered, but died, all on the same day, +within the same hour, just a month afterward.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Their three little graves were made beneath the shadows of a +lavender bush in the garden.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes I go there to scatter a flower or two, and to shed a tear +to the memory of Purrin, Furrin, and Tod.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Helen J. Wood.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id020'> +<img src='images/illus028b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>VI—THE LILACS.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>There was a great clump of lilac bushes out by the garden wall. +These lilacs grew close together and made a thick hedge nearly +around a little plot of ground, where the grass grew so thick and +velvety that it was like a great green rug, and they bent their tall +heads over this little green plot, and so formed a lovely summer-house.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Here we used to sew for our dolls, and here we used to give tea-parties. +Raspberry shortcake was one of the dainties we used to have. +This is the way we made it: Take a nice clean raspberry leaf, heap +it with raspberries, and put another leaf on top. Eat at once.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In this lovely summer-house I used to keep school. I had a row +of bricks for scholars. Each brick had its own name. Two or three +of the bricks were nice and red and new. I named those new bricks +after my dearest little school-friends.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The rest of the bricks were either broken or blackened a little. +Those bricks were my naughty, idle scholars. I used to stand them +up in a row to learn their lessons. The first thing I knew those bad +bricks would all tumble down in a heap. Numbers of little lilac-switches +grew about my schoolhouse, and I fear I was a severe teacher.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the lilacs were in bloom, that dear little summer-house was +a very gay little place. The great, purple plumes would nod in every +little wind that blew. The air was full of sweetness. Butterflies +made the trees bright with their slowly-waving wings. There was a +drowsy hum of many bees. Sometimes we would catch hold of one +of the slender trunks of the lilac trees, and give it a smart shake. +Away would flash a bright cloud of butterflies, and a swarm of angry, +buzzing bees!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Pleasant Sabbath afternoons, we used to take our Sunday-school +books out under the lilacs to read. And as we read about good deeds +and unselfish lives, our own choir of birds would sing sweet hymns. +Then we would look up and smile, and say, “They have good singing +at the lilac church, don’t they?”</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id021'> +<img src='images/illus030.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>I HAD A ROW OF BRICKS FOR SCHOLARS.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>EIGHT YEARS OLD.<br /> <span class='large'>THE SINGING-LESSON.</span></h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'>A slender, liquid note,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Long-drawn and silver-sweet.</div> + <div class='line'>Obediently the little maid</div> + <div class='line'>Tries, timid still, and half afraid,</div> + <div class='line in2'>The lesson to repeat.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in18'>A breezy turn or two,</div> + <div class='line in18'>A blithe and bold refrain,</div> + <div class='line in16'>A ripple up and down the scale,</div> + <div class='line in16'>And still the learner does not fail</div> + <div class='line in18'>To echo soft the strain.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'>A burst of melody</div> + <div class='line in2'>Wild, rapturous, and long.</div> + <div class='line'>A thousand airy runs and trills</div> + <div class='line'>Like drops from overflowing rills,—</div> + <div class='line in2'>The vanquished pupil’s song</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in18'>Breaks into laughter sweet.</div> + <div class='line in18'>And does her master chide?</div> + <div class='line in16'>Nay; little Ethel’s music-room</div> + <div class='line in16'>Is mid the sunny garden’s bloom,</div> + <div class='line in18'>Her roof the branches wide.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in10'>With parted lips she stands</div> + <div class='line in10'>Among the flowers alone.</div> + <div class='line in8'>Her teacher—hark! again he sings!</div> + <div class='line in8'>A stir—a flash of startled wings—</div> + <div class='line in10'>The little bird has flown!</div> + <div class='line in40'><span class='fss'>MARGARET JOHNSON.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id022'> +<img src='images/illus032.jpg' alt='“One,| Two,| Buckle| My Shoe.” By Margaret Johnson' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>“One,<br /> Two,<br /> Buckle<br /> My Shoe.”</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Smile on me, Baby, my sweet,</div> + <div class='line'>As I kneel humbly here at your feet.</div> + <div class='line'>My Prince, with no crown for your head,</div> + <div class='line'>But your own sunny tresses instead.</div> + <div class='line'>And your lips and your eyes gravely sweet,</div> + <div class='line'>Smile down on me here at your feet,</div> + <div class='line in14'>Little one.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>VII.—THE SAND-BANK.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>That sand-bank in the pasture was one of the nicest of our playhouses. +There was neither dust nor dirt in it—nothing but +clean, fine sand, with now and then a pebble. It was not high, so there +was no danger of a great mass of sand falling down on us two children.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The sand-bank was not very far from the little brook. Myra and +I would carry pailful after pailful of water from the brook to it, until +we had moistened a large quantity of sand. Sometimes we would +cover our little bare feet with the cool, wet sand, packing it just as +close as we could. Then gently, O, so gently, we would pull our feet +out from under the sand. The little “five-toed caves” as we used to +call them, would show just as plain as could be, where our little feet +had been! We used to catch little toads and put them into those little +damp caves, but they would soon hop out.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to make the nicest pies and cakes and cookies out of that +lovely wet sand. We used to wish our sand-dainties were fit to eat!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Oftentimes, when we were tired of cooking, we would go to work +and lay out a wonderful garden with tiny flower-beds and winding +paths, out of that wet sand. Some of those flower-beds were star-shaped, +some were round as a wheel, and some were square. We +used to gather handfuls of wild-flowers and stick them down in, until +every tiny bed blossomed into pink and blue and white and gold!</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to make sand-preserves out there. The time and the +patience that we used up in filling narrow-necked bottles with sand! +After a bottle was well-filled and shaken down, we would catch up +that bottle and run down to the brook. We would wash the outside +of that bottle until it shone like cut-glass, and then we would pack it +away in a hollow stump that we called our preserve-closet.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to play a game that we called “Hop-scotch” out in the old +sand-bank. In this game, you mark the sand off into rather large +squares. Then hopping along on one foot, you try with your toe to +push a pebble from one square into another.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id023'> +<img src='images/illus034.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>THE SAND-BANK GARDEN.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>VIII.—THE OLD PASTURE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>I used to play a great deal out in the old pasture. It had a clump +of cradle-knolls in it. A cradle-knoll is a little mound of moss.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On these mossy little cradle-knolls, checkerberry leaves and berries +used to grow. How delicious those spicy young checkerberry leaves +tasted! And we hunted those red plums as a cat hunts a mouse!</p> + +<p class='c008'>The pasture had two or three well-beaten paths in it, that the +cows had made by their sober steady tramping back and forth from +the barnyard lane to the growth of little trees and bushes and tender +grass at the back. At sunset-time, two little barefooted girls would +“spat” along those cool smooth winding paths after those cows.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As long as we kept in the paths our little feet were all right. But +sometimes a clump of bright wild-flowers tempted us, and then two +sorry little girls with thistle-prickles in their feet would come limping +back. But out where the tender grasses grew there were no thistles, +and such fun as hide-and-seek used to be among the bushes!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes we could not find the cows very readily; and then we +would climb up on a smutty stump and call, “co’ boss! co’ boss!” until +the woods rang.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the spring, we would go a-maying out in the old pasture, and +O, such great handfuls of the sweet mayflower as we used to bring +home! Later on, we would gather great bunches of sweet-smelling +herbs that grew wild out there, and carry them home to hang up in +the shed-chamber and dry.</p> + +<p class='c008'>If one of my schoolmates had been unkind to me, I would go out +into the old pasture, and there I would plan out for myself a lovely +future wherein I should be <i>very</i> rich and <i>very</i> good to the poor. And +my unkind schoolmate would be one of the humble receivers of my +gifts, and so it would come about that before I got through building +air-castles I would actually feel sorry for the poor schoolmate who +had ill-used me. And then home I would go, singing and skipping!</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id002'> +<img src='images/illus036.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>“CO’ BOSS!! CO’ BOSS!”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>Little Mother Hubbard.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div><a href="music/little_mother_hubbard.mp3" class="x-ebookmaker-drop">Listen</a></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id024'> +<a href='images/little_mother_hubbard.png'><img src='images/illus037.jpg' alt='Little Mother Hubbard. WORDS BY ALBERT H. HARDY. MUSIC BY T. CRAMPTON.' class='ig001' /></a> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>1. Lit-tle Mo-ther Hub-bard sat</div> + <div class='line'>In the park at play, With her gown and point-ed hat All of so-ber</div> + <div class='line'>gray. And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce be-lieved my eyes;</div> + <div class='line'>And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce believed my eyes.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>2. Pug no long-er frisked a-bout,</div> + <div class='line'>For he felt the loss Of his sup-per and his cake, So was tired and</div> + <div class='line'>cross. And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug;</div> + <div class='line'>And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>3. Mo-ther Hub-bard hur-ried home,</div> + <div class='line'>Say-ing, “Mer-cy me! Pug shall have some frost-ed cake And a cup of</div> + <div class='line'>tea.” But the cake was eat-en up And the nurse had lost his cup;</div> + <div class='line'>But the cake was eat-en up, And the nurse had lost his cup.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figleft id025'> +<img src='images/illus038.jpg' alt='PILLOW·LAND' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>PILLOW·LAND</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in14'>GOOD-NIGHT.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in12'>Suck-a-Thumb,</div> + <div class='line in12'>Bed-time’s come.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Dressed in white,</div> + <div class='line'>Shut eyes tight.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in4'>“Nighty, night!”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>IX.—THE ELM-TREE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>Out in one of the meadows was a big elm-tree. It was very tall, +and in summer it looked like a monster bunch of green plumes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It stood on the bank of our little brook. Right where the old elm +stood, the bank was quite high, six feet almost. The boughs on the +old tree grew very low. I would catch hold of one of those low-hanging +boughs. Then, I would give a little run and jump. Away +out over the bank and over the brook I would swing!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Oftentimes I would take my patchwork out under the old elm. +But soon the patchwork would be on the ground, forgotten, and an +idle little girl would be lying flat on the grass, with her hands clasped +under her head, looking up into the clear blue sky!</p> + +<p class='c008'>I used to make believe that the white clouds were my ships, coming +into harbor under full sail. And I used to make up fine names for +my ships, and O, such splendid cargoes as they would be loaded with, +all for me—their rich young owner—the idle dreamer in the grass!</p> + +<p class='c008'>O, it was such fun to lie there in the midst of funny daisies with +their high white collars, and buttercups with their yellow caps! The +roguish little winds would make them bend over and tickle the rosy +face of the little girl whom the birds and the brook had almost hushed +off to sleep. There would be a soft little touch on my forehead, and +then another on my chin, and yet others on my cheeks. Then I +would open my eyes and laugh at those funny little white and gold +heads, soberly wagging up and down. But once I was rather frightened +out under the old elm. I had been lying flat on my back for an +hour or two, when I was called. I half raised myself up and answered. +My hand was on the ground just where I had been lying. I felt +something squirming around my thumb. It was a tiny brown snake! +Of course, it was as harmless as a fly, but didn’t I spring to my feet!</p> + +<p class='c008'>When I had to recite a little piece in school or at a church concert, +I always used to rehearse that little piece out under the old elm, over +and over again.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id026'> +<img src='images/illus040.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>SWINGING ON THE ELM-TREE BOUGH.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>Puggie in Disgrace.</i></h2> +</div> + +<div class='c005'> + <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus041.jpg' width='64' alt='' /> +</div><p class='drop-capi_8'></p> +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='c011'>C</span>hild-ren, just look at this queer little Pug,</div> + <div class='line'>His small wrin-kled nose, his little black mug!</div> + <div class='line'>I fear he’s been naugh-ty at les-sons to-day,</div> + <div class='line'>And, like naugh-ty child-ren, he’s pun-ished this way.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>He sits on the stool of re-pent-ance, you see;</div> + <div class='line'>Poor Pug-gie is gen-tle and meek as can be;</div> + <div class='line'>But when at his les-sons he just took a nap,</div> + <div class='line'>And that is the rea-son he wears the Fool’s cap.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>His neck has an or-na-ment, not like his head,</div> + <div class='line'>But a beau-ti-ful lock-et and rib-bon in-stead;</div> + <div class='line'>So you see that to some one the dog-gie is dear,</div> + <div class='line'>Al-though they all tease him I very much fear.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>From Ho-race, the eld-est, to lit-tle Miss May,</div> + <div class='line'>All in-sist that Poor Pug-gie should join in their play;</div> + <div class='line'>Some-times they pet him, and some-times they tease,</div> + <div class='line'>But he bears it all pa-tient-ly, eager to please.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>He rolls his big eyes, or just heaves a sigh,</div> + <div class='line'>And thinks they’ll make up for it all by and by.</div> + <div class='line'>For Pug-gie is greed-y, and bears a great deal</div> + <div class='line'>For the sake of some cakes or a good heart-y meal.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>But though he <i>is</i> greed-y, his faults are but few,</div> + <div class='line'>He is lov-ing and hon-est, de-vo-ted and true.</div> + <div class='line'>If our two-foot-ed friends were as faith-ful as he</div> + <div class='line'>Ve-ry for-tu-nate peo-ple I think we should be.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id027'> +<img src='images/illus042.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>TIC-TAC-TOO.</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Tic-tac-too was a little boy; he was exactly three years old, and the +youngest in the family; so, of course, he was the king. His real name +was Alec; but he was always known in the household, and among his +wide circle of friends generally, as Tic-tac-too. There was a little story to +account for this, and it is that story which I am now going to tell.</p> + +<div class='figleft id028'> +<img src='images/illus043.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>There are very few children who do not know the funny old nursery rhyme +of “Tic-tac-too;” it is an old-fashioned rhyme, and in great vogue amongst +nurses. Of course Alec enjoyed it, and liked to have his toes pulled, and the +queer words said to him. But that is not the story; for it is one thing to like +a nursery rhyme very much, and another to be +called by the name of that rhyme, and nothing +else.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Now, please, listen to the story.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was no nicer house to live in than +Daisy Farm: it was old-fashioned and roomy; +there were heaps of small bedrooms +with low ceilings, and heaps +of long passages, and unexpected +turnings, and dear little cosey corners; +and there was a large nursery +made out of two or three of +the small rooms thrown together, +and this nursery had casement +windows, and from the windows +the daisies, which gave their name +to the farm, could be seen. They +came up in thousands upon thousands, +and no power of man and scythe combined could keep them down. +The mowing-machine only suppressed them for a day or two; up they started +anew in their snowy dresses, with their modest pink frills and bright yellow +edges.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mr. Rogers, who owned Daisy Farm, objected to the flowers; but his +children delighted in them, and picked them in baskets-full, and made daisy-chains +to their hearts’ content. There were several children who lived in this +pleasant farmhouse, for Tic-tac-too had many brothers and sisters. The old-fashioned +nursery was all that a modern nursery should be; it had deep cupboards +for toys, and each child had his or her wide shelf to keep special +treasures on; and the window-ledges were cosey places to curl up in on wet +days, when the rain beat outside, and the wind sighed, and +even the daisies looked as if they did not like to be washed +so much.</p> + +<div class='figright id029'> +<img src='images/illus044a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Some of the children at Daisy Farm were old enough to +have governesses and masters, to have a schoolroom for +themselves, and, in short, to have very little to say to the +nursery; but still there were four nursery little ones; and one +day mother electrified the children by telling them that +another little boy was coming to pay them a visit.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“He is coming to-morrow,” said mother; “he is a year +younger than Alec here, but his mother has asked us to take +care of him. You must all be kind to the little baby +stranger, children, and try your very best to make him feel at +home. Poor little man, I trust he will be happy with us.”</p> + +<div class='figleft id030'> +<img src='images/illus044b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Mother sighed as she spoke; and when she did this, Rosie, the eldest +nursery child, looked up at her quickly. Rosie had dark gray eyes, and a very +sympathetic face; she was the kind of child who +felt everybody’s troubles, and nurse said she did +this far more than was good for her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The moment her mother left the room, Rosie +ran up to her nurse, and spoke eagerly—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why did mother sigh when she said a new +little boy was coming here, nursie?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, my love, how can I tell? People sigh +most likely from habit, and from no reason whatever. +There’s nothing to fret anybody in a sigh, +Miss Rosie.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But mother doesn’t sigh from habit,” answered Rosie; “I expect there’s +going to be something sad about the new little boy, and I wonder what it is. +Harry, shall we collect some of our very nicest toys to have ready for the poor +little new boy?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Harry was six; he had a determined face, and was not so generous as +Rosie.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’ll not give away my skin-horse,” he said, “so you needn’t think it, nor +my white dog with the joints; there are some broken things down in that +corner that he can have. But I don’t see why a new baby should have my +best toys. Gee-up, Alec! you’re a horse, you know, and I’m going to race +you from one end of the nursery to the other—now trot!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fat little curly-headed Alec started off good-humoredly, and Rosie surveyed +her own shelf to see which toys would most distract the attention of +the little stranger.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She was standing on a hassock, and counting her treasures over carefully, +when she was startled by a loud exclamation from nurse.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Mercy me! If that ain’t the telegraph boy coming up the drive!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nurse was old-fashioned enough still to regard telegrams with apprehension. +She often said she could never look at one of those awful yellow +envelopes, without her heart jumping into her mouth; and these fears she had, +to a certain extent, infected the children with.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Harry dropped Alec’s reins, and rushed to the window; Rosie forgot +her toys, and did likewise; Jack and Alec both pressed for a view from +behind.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Me, me, me, me want to see!” screamed baby Alec from the back.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nurse lifted him into her arms; as she did so, she murmured under her +breath,—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“God preserve us! I hope that awful boy isn’t bringing us anything bad.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Rosie heard the words, and felt a sudden sense of chill and anxiety; she +pressed her little hand into nurse’s, and longed more than ever to give all the +nicest toys to the new little boy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Just then the nursery door was opened, and Kate, the housemaid, appeared, +carrying the yellow envelope daintily between her finger and thumb.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“There, nurse,” she said, “it’s for you; and I hope, I’m sure, it’s no ill-luck +I’m bringing you.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, sake’s alive!” said nurse. “Children, dears, let me sit down. +That awful boy to bring it to me! Well, the will of the Lord must be done; +whatever’s inside this ugly thing? Miss Rosie, my dear, could you hunt +round somewhere for my spectacles?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>It always took a long time to find nurse’s spectacles; and Rosie, after +a frantic search, in which she was joined by all the other nursery children, +discovered them at last at the bottom of Alec’s cot. She rushed with them +to the old woman, who put them on her nose, and began deliberately to read +the contents of her telegram.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The children stood round her as she did so. They were all breathless +and excited; and Rosie looked absolutely white from anxiety.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well, my dears,” said nurse at last, when she had spelt through the +words, “it ain’t exactly a trouble; far from me to say that; but all the same, +it’s mighty contrary, and a new child coming here, and all.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What is it, nurse?” said Harry. “<i>Do</i> tell us what it’s all about.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It’s my daughter, dears,” said nurse; “she’ll be in London to-morrow, on +her way back to America.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, nurse!” said Rosie, “not your daughter Ann?”</p> + +<div class='figright id031'> +<img src='images/illus046.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>“The same, my love; she that has eight children, and four of them with +carrotty hair. She wants me to go up to London, +to see her to-morrow; that’s the news the +telegraph boy has brought, Miss Rosie. My +daughter Ann says, ‘Mother, meet me to-morrow +at aunt’s, at two o’clock.’ Well, well, it’s mighty +contrary; and that new child coming, and all!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But you’ll have to go, nurse. It would be +dreadful for your daughter Ann not to see you again.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, dear, that’s all very fine; but what’s to become +of all you children? How is this blessed baby to get on +without his old Nan?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, nurse, you <i>must</i> go! It would be so cruel if +you didn’t,” exclaimed Rosie.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nurse sat thinking hard for a minute or two; then saying she would go +and consult her mistress, she left the room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The upshot of all this was, that at an early hour the following morning +nurse started for London, and a girl, of the name of Patience, from the village, +came up to take her place in the nursery.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Rogers was particularly busy during these days. She had some +friends staying with her, and in addition to this her eldest daughter, Ethel, +was ill, and took up a good deal of her mother’s time; in consequence of +these things the nursery children were left entirely to the tender mercies of +Patience.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Not that that mattered much, for they were independent children, and +always found their own amusements. The first day of nurse’s absence, too, +was fine, and they spent the greater part of it in the open air; but the second +day was wet—a hopelessly wet day—a dull day with a drizzling fog, and no +prospect whatever of clearing up.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The morning’s post brought a letter from nurse to ask for further leave of +absence; and this, in itself, would have depressed the spirits of the nursery +children, for they were looking forward to a gay supper with her, and a +long talk about her daughter Ann, and all her London adventures.</p> + +<div class='figleft id032'> +<img src='images/illus047.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>But this was not the real +trouble which pressed so heavily +on Rosie’s motherly heart; the +real anxiety which made her little +face look so careworn was caused +by the new baby, the little boy of +two years old, who had arrived +late the night before, and now sat +with a shadow on his face, absolutely +refusing to make friends +with any one.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He must have been a petted +little boy at home, for he was +beautifully dressed, and his curly +hair was nicely cared for, and his +fair face had a delicate peach +bloom about it; but if he was +petted, he was also, perhaps, +spoilt, for he certainly would not +make advances to any of his new +comrades, nor exert himself to be agreeable, nor to overcome the strangeness +which was filling his baby mind. Had nurse been at home, she would have +known how to manage; she would have coaxed smiles from little Fred, and +taken him up in her arms, and “mothered” him a good bit. Babies of two +require a great lot of “mothering,” and it is surprising what desolation fills +their little souls when it is denied them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred cried while Patience was dressing him; he got almost into a passion +when she washed his face, and he sulked over his breakfast. Patience was +not at all the sort of girl to manage a child like Fred; she was rough in every +sense of the word; and when rough petting failed, she tried the effect of +rough scolding.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Come, baby, come, you <i>must</i> eat your bread and milk. No nonsense +now, open your mouth and gobble it down. Come, come, I’ll slap you if you +don’t.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>But baby Fred, though sorrowful, was not a coward; he pushed the bowl +of bread and milk away, upset its contents over the clean tablecloth, and +raised two sorrowful big eyes to the new nurse’s face.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Naughty dirl, do away,” he said; “Fred don’t ’ove ’oo. Fred won’t +eat bekfus’.”</p> + +<div class='figright id033'> +<img src='images/illus048.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, Miss Rosie, what +a handful he is!” said +Patience.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Let me try him!” +said Rosie; “I’ll make him +eat something. Come Freddy +darling, you love Rosie, +don’t you?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, I don’t,” said Fred.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well, you’ll eat some breakfast; come now.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I won’t eat none bekfus’—do away.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Rosie turned round and looked in a despairing way at +her own three brothers.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If only nurse were at home!” she said.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Master Fred,” said Patience, “if you won’t eat, you must get down from +the breakfast-table. I have got to clear up, you know.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>She popped the little boy on the floor. He looked round in a bewildered +fashion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Let’s have a very exciting kind of play, and perhaps he’ll join in,” said +Rosie, in a whisper. “Let’s play at kittens—that’s the loveliest of all our +games.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Kittens” was by no means a quiet pastime. It consisted, indeed, in wild +romps on all-fours, each child assuming for the time the character of a kitten, +and jumping after balls of paper, which they caught in their mouths.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It’s the happiest of all our games, and perhaps he’ll like it,” said Rosie.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Patie,” said Alec, going up to the new nurse, “does ’oo know <i>Tic-tac-too</i>?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Of course I do, master Baby—a silly game that.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I ’ike it,” said little Alec.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He tripped across the nursery to the younger baby, and sat down by his +side.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Take off ’oo shoe,” he said.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred was very tired of being cross and miserable. He could not say he +was too little to Alec, for Alec was scarcely bigger than himself. Besides he +understood about taking off his shoe. It was a performance he particularly +liked. He looked at Baby Alec, and obeyed him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Take off ’oo other shoe,” said Alec.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred did so.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Pull off ’oo ’tocks,” ordered the eldest baby.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred absolutely chuckled as he tugged away at his white socks, and +revealed his pink toes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now, come to Patie.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred scrambled to his feet, and holding Alec’s hand, trotted down the long +nursery.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Patie,” said Alec, “take F’ed on ’our lap, and play <i>Tic-tac-too</i> for +him?”</p> + +<div class='figright id034'> +<img src='images/illus049.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Patience was busy sewing; she +raised her eyes. Two smiling little +baby-boys were standing by her knee. +Could this child, whose blue eyes were +full of sunshine, be the miserable little +Fred?</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well, master Alec,” she said, kissing +the older baby, “you’re a perfect +little darling. Well, I never! to think +of you finding out a way to please that +poor child.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Tic-tac-too!” said Fred, in a loud +and vigorous voice. He was fast getting +over his shyness, and Alec’s game +suited him to perfection.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But the little stranger did <i>not</i> like the game of kittens. He marched in a +fat, solid sort of way across the nursery, and sat down in a corner, with his +back to the company. Here he really looked a most dismal little figure. The +view of his back was heart-rending; his curly head drooped slightly, forlornness +was written all over his little person.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What a little muff he is!” said Harry; “I’m glad I didn’t give my skin +horse to him.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, don’t,” said Rosie, “can’t you see he’s unhappy? I must go and +speak to him. Fred,” she said, going up to the child, “come and play with +Alec and me.”</p> + +<div class='figcenter id035'> +<img src='images/illus050.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>“No,” said Fred, “I’se too little to p’ay.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But we’ll have such an easy play, Fred. <i>Do</i> come; I wish you would.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’se too little,” answered Fred, shaking his head again.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At that moment Rosie and her two elder brothers were called out of the +room to their morning lessons. Rosie’s heart ached as she went away.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Something must be done,” she said to herself. “That new little boy-baby +will get quite ill if we can’t think of something to please him soon.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>She did not know that a very unexpected little deliverer was at hand. The +two babies were now alone in the nursery, and Patience, having finished her +tidying up, sat down to her sewing.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Patience lifted him on her lap, popped him down with a bounce, kissed +him, and began,—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Tic, tac, too,</div> + <div class='line'>The little horse has lost his shoe,</div> + <div class='line'>Here a nail, and there a nail,</div> + <div class='line'>Here a nail, and there a nail,</div> + <div class='line in16'>Tic, tac, too!”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>When the other children returned to the nursery, they heard peals of +merry baby laughter; and this was the fashion in which a little boy won his +name.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>X.—THE PASTURE FENCE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>We used to play a great deal about the pasture fence. It was a +high rail fence and we used to take a little pole in both hands +as a balancing pole, and run along on the top. Carefully we balanced +ourselves as we ran! But finally we would tip first one way and then +the other, and then, with a little laughing scream, off we’d topple!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes we would put a board through the fence and have a fine +time at “seesaw.” Up one of us would go, high in the air, and down +would go the other with a thud!</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to play that the pasture fence was a huge cupboard. +Each rail was a shelf. Many of those rail-shelves were loaded down +with bits of broken dishes, shining pebbles, bits of green moss that we +called “pincushions,” and white clam-shells full of strawberries, or +raspberries, or little dark juicy choke-cherries. The contents of the +clam-shells were for the birds. If we found a clam-shell lying on the +ground, we believed with all our little hearts that a little winged +creature had been fed from our cupboard.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes we would carry on a thriving millinery store out at the +pasture fence. We would make queer little bonnets out of birch-bark. +Then we would sew wildflowers on the bonnets and lay them on the +rails of the fence for sale. Such a number of those funny little bonnets +as would be on exhibition on our rail-counters!</p> + +<p class='c008'>One of the big upright posts of our rail fence was hollow a little +way down. One day we found on the ground a nest full of birdlings; +one of them was dead, and a little green snake had almost reached the +nest. The mother-bird was flying about crying pitifully. I snatched +the nest away and carried it O, so carefully to the pasture fence and +put it down in the hollow of the fence-post. Then we went a bit +away and waited. Pretty soon there was a little rush of wings; and +soon the mother-bird settled down in that hollow post just as cunning +as could be. And that dear little family staid in that hollow post +until the baby-birds grew up and flew away.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>LULU’S FIRST THANKSGIVING.</h2> +</div> +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Lulu was six years old last spring. She came to make a visit +at her grandfather’s, and stayed until after Thanksgiving.</p> + +<div class='figcenter id022'> +<img src='images/illus053.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>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’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> + +<p class='c008'>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’s. It did not take +them long to get acquainted. Before time for dinner they felt as if +they had always known each other.</p> + +<div class='figright id036'> +<img src='images/illus054.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>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> + +<p class='c008'>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 class='c008'>After dinner they played +all kinds of games. All the uncles and aunts and grown-up cousins +played blind-man’s-buff with them.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>XI.—OUR RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>We had a number of rainy-day playhouses. When it did not +rain very hard, Myra and I would scamper out to our little +playhouse made of boards, and listen to the patter of the drops.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was not a very costly playhouse. It was built in a corner made +by the shed and the orchard fence. One side of our playhouse was +the shed. Another side was the fence; this open side we used to call +our bay-window. A creeping hop vine twined around the rough +fence-boards and made a green lace curtain for our bay-window. +The third side was made of boards. Across this side stretched the +wide board seat, which was the only furniture of our playhouse. The +fourth, or front side of the playhouse consisted mostly of a “double-door,” +of which we were very proud. This double-door was two large +green blinds. Did not we feel like truly little housekeepers when we +fastened those two blinds together with a snap!</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the rain came down in gentle showers we used to go out to +the little playhouse and have a concert. First Myra would step up on +to that wide board seat and recite a little piece. Then I would step +up on to the seat and sing a little song. Perhaps while I was singing +a robin in the orchard would begin to sing, O, so loud and sweet that +all the orchard just rang with that sweet music! We would stop our +concert and listen to the robin. When he had finished, we used to clap +our little hands. And all the time the rain kept up a fairy “tinkle, +tinkle,” as if some one was keeping time for us on a tiny piano.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Spat-t! Spat-t! would come the little drops through a tiny hole in +the roof of our little house. We used to hold our faces up towards +that little leak in the roof. Oftentimes a drop would strike us fairly +on the tip of our small noses! Then how we would laugh!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes we would take hold of hands and repeat together, over +and over again: “Rain, rain, go away, come again, another day!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>And if we said those words long enough, the rain would go away!</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/illus056.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>THE RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>XII.—THE WHOLE WHITE WORLD.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>In winter we played everywhere! The whole white world was a +lovely playground! We had no skates, but we wore very thick-soled +boots that took the place of skates very well. At least we +thought so, and that was all we needed to make us contented. When +the little pond was frozen over, we would take a quick run down its +snowy banks and then we would skim clear across that little pond’s +frozen surface just as swift as a bird would skim through the air.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes a thick frost would come in the night-time. The next +morning a fine blue haze would be in the air and everything would be +clothed in soft white frost-furs. As the sun rose higher and higher +we would watch to see the trees and bushes grow warm in the sunshine +and throw off their furs. Then we would try and catch those +soft furs as they fell. But if caught they melted quickly away.</p> + +<p class='c008'>If the surface of the snow hardened enough so that we could walk +on the crust without breaking through, our happiness was complete. +High hills were all about us, and it seemed to us as if every shining +hill would say if it could, “Come and slide!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>And O, the happy hours that we have had with our clumsy old +sled! Away we would go, the wind stinging our faces until crimson +roses blossomed in our cheeks, and the shining crust snapping and +creaking under our sled, and the hill flying away behind us!</p> + +<p class='c008'>If a damp clinging snow came, it made lovely snowballs; and it was +such fun to catch hold of the long clothes-lines and shake them and +see little clumps of snow hop like rabbits from the line into the air.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And if instead of warmth, and great damp feathery snowflakes, +there came a bitter wind and an icy sleet that froze as it fell—what +then? Never mind! Sunrise would set the whole world a-sparkle. +Every tree and bush would be gay with splendid ice-jewels! And in +the great shining ice palace, we could run and laugh and shout, watching +the ice-jewels loosen and fall, all day long.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id037'> +<img src='images/illus058.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>“AWAY WE WOULD GO!”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id038'> +<img src='images/illus059a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'><i>GRAN’MA GRACIE.</i></h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='c005'> + <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus059b.jpg' width='145' alt='' /> +</div><p class='drop-capi_8'> +It was Uncle George who called her “Gran’ma” when she +was only six, and by the time she was seven everybody had +taken to the name, and she answered to it as a matter of +course.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Why did he call her so? Because she was such a prim, +staid, serious, little old-fashioned body, and consequently +her mother laughingly took to dressing her in an old-fashioned +way, so that at last, whether she was out in the +grounds, or round by the stables with Grant, in her figured +pink dress, red sash, long gloves, and sun-bonnet, looking after her pets, or +indoors of an evening, in her yellow brocade, muslin apron—with pockets, of +course, and quaint mob cap tied up with its ribbon—she always looked serious +and grandmotherly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is her nature to,” Uncle George said, quoting from “Let dogs +delight;” and when he laughed at her, Gran’ma used to look at him wonderingly +in the most quaint way, and then put her hand in his, and ask him to +take her for a walk.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Gran’ma lived in a roomy old house with a delightful garden, surrounded +by a very high red-brick wall that was covered in the spring with white blossoms, +and in the autumn with peaches with red cheeks that laughed at her and +imitated hers; purple plums covered with bloom, and other plums that looked +like drops of gold among the green leaves; and these used to get so ripe and +juicy in the hot sun, that they would crack and peer out at her as if asking to +be eaten before they fell down and wasted their rich honey juice on the ground. +Then there were great lumbering looking pears which worried John, the gardener, +because they grew so heavy that they tore the nails out of the walls, and +had to be fastened up again—old John giving Gran’ma the shreds to hold +while he went up the ladder with his hammer, and a nail in his mouth.</p> + +<p class='c008'>That garden was Gran’ma’s world, it was so big; and on fine mornings she +could be seen seriously wandering about with Dinnywinkle, her little sister, up +this way, down that, under the apple-trees, along the gooseberry and currant +alleys, teaching her and Grant that it was not proper to go on the beds when +there were plenty of paths, and somehow Dinnywinkle, who was always +bubbling over with fun, did as the serious little thing told her in the most obedient +of ways, and helped her to scold Grant, who was much harder to teach.</p> + +<div class='figright id039'> +<img src='images/illus060.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>For Grant, whose papa was a setter, and mamma a very lady-like retriever, +always had ideas in his head that there were wild +beasts hiding in the big garden, and as soon as his +collar was unfastened, and he was taken down the +grounds for a run, he seemed to run +mad. His ears went up, his tail began +to wave, and he dashed about frantically +to hunt for those imaginary wild +beasts. He barked till he was hoarse +sometimes, when after a good deal of +rushing about he made a discovery, and +would then look up triumphantly at +Gran’ma, and point at his find with his +nose, till she came up to see what he +had discovered. One time it would be +a snail, at another a dead mouse killed +by the cat, and not eaten because it was +a shrew. Upon one occasion, when +the children ran up, it was to find the +dog half wild as he barked to them to come and see what he was holding +down under his paw,—this proving to be an unfortunate frog which uttered +a dismal squeal from time to time till Gran’ma set it at liberty, so that it could +make long hops into a bed of ivy, where it lived happily long afterwards, to +sit there on soft wet nights under a big leaf like an umbrella, and softly whistle +the frog song which ends every now and then in a croak.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Grant was always obedient when he was caught, and then he would walk +steadily along between Gran’ma and Dinny, each holding one of his long silky +ears, with the prisoner making no effort to escape.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But the job was to catch him; and on these occasions Gran’ma used to run +and run fast, while Dinny ran in another direction to cut Grant off.</p> + +<div class='figleft id040'> +<img src='images/illus061.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>And a pretty chase he led them, letting them get close up, and then giving +a joyous bark and leaping sidewise, to dash off in quite a fresh direction. +Here he would perhaps hide, crouching down under one of the shrubs, ready +to pounce out on his pursuers, and then dash away again, showing his teeth as +if he were laughing, and in his frantic delight waltzing round and round after +his tail. Then away he would bound on to the closely shaven lawn, throw +himself down, roll over and over, and set Dinny laughing and clapping her +hands to see him play one of his favorite tricks, which was to lay his nose +down close to the grass, first on one side +and then on the other, pushing it along as +if it was a plough, till he sprang up and +stood barking and wagging his tail, as +much as to say, “What do you think of +that for a game?” ending by running helter-skelter +after a blackbird which flew away, +crying “Chink—chink—chink.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>That was a famous old wilderness of a +place, with great stables and out-houses, +where there was bright golden straw, and +delicious sweet-scented hay, and in one +place a large bin with a lid, and half-full of +oats, with which Gran’ma used to fill a +little cross-handled basket.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now, Grant,” she cried, as she shut +down the lid, after refusing to let Dinny +stand in the bin and pour oats over her head and down her back—“Now, +Grant!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Wuph!” said Grant, and he took hold of the basket in his teeth, and +trotted on with it before her round the corner, to stop before the hutches that +stood outside in the sun.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Here, if Dinny was what Gran’ma called “a good girl,” she had a treat. +For this was where the rabbits lived.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Old Brownsmith sent those rabbits, hutch and all, as a present for Gran’ma, +one day when John went to the market garden with his barrow to fetch what +he called some “plarnts;” and when he came back with the barred hutch, and +set the barrow down in the walk, mamma went out with Gran’ma and Dinny, +to look at them, and Grant came up growling, sniffed all round the hutch before +giving a long loud bark, which, being put into plain English, meant, “Open +the door, and I’ll kill all the lot.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I don’t know what to say, John,” said mamma, shaking her head. “It +is very kind of Mr. Brownsmith, but I don’t think your master will like the +children to keep them, for fear they should be neglected and die.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“’Gleckted?” said old John, rubbing one ear. “What! little miss here +’gleck ’em? Not she. You’ll feed them rabbuds reg’lar, miss, wontcher?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Gran’ma said she would, and the hutch was wheeled round by the stables, +Grant following and looking very much puzzled, for though he never hunted +the cats now, rabbits did seem the right things to kill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Gran’ma soon taught him better, and he became the best of friends +with Brown Downie and her two children, Bunny and White Paws.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In fact, one day there was a scene, for Cook rushed into the schoolroom +during lesson time, out of breath with excitement.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Please’m, I went down the garden, ’m, to get some parsley, and that +horrid dog’s hunting the rabbits, and killing ’em.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was a cry from both children, and Gran’ma rushed out and round to +the stables, to find the hutch door unfastened, and the rabbits gone, while, as +she turned back to the house with the tears running down her cheeks, who +should come trotting up but Grant, with his ears cocked, and Bunny hanging +from his jaws as if dead.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Gran’ma uttered a cry; and as Mamma came up with Dinny, the dog set +the little rabbit down, looked up and barked, and Bunny began loping off to +nibble the flowers, not a bit the worse, while Grant ran and turned him back +with his nose, for Gran’ma to catch the little thing up in her arms.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Grant barked excitedly, and ran down the garden again, the whole party +following, and in five minutes he had caught White Paw.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Dinny had the carrying of this truant, and with another bark, Grant dashed +in among the gooseberry bushes, where there was a great deal of rustling, +a glimpse of something brown, and then of a white cottony tail. Then in +spite of poor Grant getting his nose pricked with the thorns, Brown Downie +was caught and held by her ears till mamma lifted her up, and she was +carried in triumph back, Grant trotting on before, and leading the way to the +stable-yard and the hutch, turning round every now and then to bark.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The rabbits did not get out again, and every morning and evening they were +fed as regularly as Gran’ma fed herself.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On reaching the hutch, Grant set the basket down, leaving the handle rather +wet, though he could easily have wiped it with his ears, and then he sat down +in a dreamy way, half closing his eyes and possibly thinking about wild rabbits +on heaths where he could hunt them through furze bushes, while Gran’ma in +the most serious way possible opened the hutch door.</p> + +<div class='figright id041'> +<img src='images/illus063.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>There was no difficulty about catching White Paw, for he was ready enough +to thrust his nose into +his little mistress’s +hand, and be lifted +out by his ears, and +held for Dinny to +stroke.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now let me take +him,” she cried.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, my dear, you +are too young yet,” +said Gran’ma; and +Dinny had to be content +with smoothing down White Paw’s soft brown fur, as it nestled up +against its mistress’s breast, till it was put back kicking, and evidently longing +to escape from its wooden-barred prison, even if it was to be hunted by Grant.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then Bunny had his turn, and was duly lifted out and smoothed; after +which, Brown Downie, who was too heavy to lift, gave the floor of the hutch a +sharp rap with one foot, making Grant lift his ear and utter a deep sigh.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No,” he must have thought; “it’s very tempting, but I must not seize +her by the back and give her a shake.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then the trough was filled with oats, the door fastened, and the girls looked +on as three noses were twitched and screwed about, and a low munching sound +arose.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Three rabbits and a dog! Enough pets for any girl, my reader; but +Gran’ma had another—Buzz, a round, soft-furred kitten with about as much +fun in it as could be squeezed into so small a body. But Buzz had a temper, +possibly soured by jealousy of Grant, whom he utterly detested.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Buzz’s idea of life was to be always chasing something,—his tail, a shadow, +the corner of the table-cover, or his mistress’s dress. He liked to climb, too, on +to tables, up the legs, into the coal-scuttle, behind the sideboard, and above +all, up the curtains, so as to turn the looped-up part into a hammock, and sleep +there for hours. Anywhere forbidden to a respectable kitten was Buzz’s favorite +spot, and especially inside the fender, where the blue tiles at the back +reflected the warmth of the fire, and the brown tiles of the hearth were so bright +that he could see other kittens in them, and play with them, dabbing at them +with his velvet paw.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Buzz had been dragged out from that forbidden ground by his hind leg, and +by the loose skin at the back of his neck, and he had been punished again and +again, but still he would go, and strange to say, he took a fancy to rub himself +up against the upright brass dogs from the tip of his nose to the end of his +tail, and then repeat it on the other side.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Gran’ma’s pet did not trespass without suffering for it. Both his +whiskers were singed off close, and there was a brown, rough, ill-smelling +bit at the end of his tail where, in turning round, he had swept it amongst the +glowing cinders, giving him so much pain that he uttered a loud “Mee-yow!” +and bounded out of the room, looking up at Gran’ma the while as if he believed +that she had served him like that.</p> + +<div class='figleft id042'> +<img src='images/illus064.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>In Gran’ma’s very small old-fashioned way, one of her regular duties was +to get papa’s blue cloth fur-lined slippers, and put them +against the fender to warm every night, ready for him +when he came back tired from London; and no sooner +were those slippers set down to toast, than Buzz, who +had been watching attentively, went softly from his +cushion where he had been pretending to be asleep, but +watching all the time with one eye, and carefully packed +himself in a slipper, thrusting his nose well down, drawing +his legs right under him, and snoozling up so +compactly that he exactly fitted it, and seemed part of a fur cushion made in +the shape of a shoe.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Buzz was not allowed to enjoy himself in that fashion for long. No +sooner did Gran’ma catch sight of what he had done than she got up, went to +the fireplace, gravely lifted the slipper, and poured Buzz out on to the hearth-rug, +replaced the slipper where it would warm, and went back, to find, five +minutes later, that the kitten had fitted himself into the other slipper, with +only his back visible, ready to be poured out again. Then, in a half-sulky, +cattish way, Buzz would go and seat himself on his square cushion, and watch, +while, to guard them from any more such intrusions, Gran’ma picked up the +slippers and held them to her breast until such time as her father came home.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Those were joyous times at the old house, till one day there was a report +spread in the village that little Gran’ma was ill. The doctor’s carriage was +seen every day at the gate, and then twice a day, and there were sorrow and +despair where all had been so happy. Dinny went alone with Grant to feed +the rabbits; and there were no more joyous rushes round the garden, for the +dog would lie down on the doorstep with his head between his paws, and watch +there all day, and listen for the quiet little footstep that never came. Every +day old John, the gardener, brought up a bunch of flowers for the little child +lying fevered and weak, with nothing that would cool her burning head, and +three anxious faces were constantly gazing for the change that they prayed +might come.</p> + +<p class='c008'>For the place seemed no longer the same without those pattering feet. +Cook had been found crying in a chair in the kitchen; and when asked why, +she said it was because Grant had howled in the night, and she knew now that +dear little Gran’ma would never be seen walking so sedately round the garden +again.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was of no use to tell her that Grant had howled because he was miserable +at not seeing his little mistress: she said she knew better.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Don’t tell me,” she cried; “look at him.” And she pointed to where +the dog had just gone down to the gate, for a carriage had stopped, and the +dog, after meeting the doctor, walked up behind him to the house, waited till +he came out, and then walked down behind him to the gate, saw him go, and +came back to lie down in his old place on the step, with his head between his +paws.</p> + +<p class='c008'>They said that they could not get Grant to eat, and it was quite true, for the +little hands which fed him were not there; and the house was very mournful and +still, even Dinny having ceased to shout and laugh, for they told her she +must be very quiet, because Gran’ma was so ill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>From that hour Dinny went about the place like a mouse, and her favorite +place was on the step by Grant, who, after a time, took to laying his head in +her lap, and gazing up at her with his great brown eyes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And they said that Gran’ma knew no one now, but lay talking quickly +about losing the rabbits and about Dinny and Grant; and then there came a +day when she said nothing, but lay very still as if asleep.</p> + +<div class='figleft id043'> +<img src='images/illus066.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>That night as the doctor was going, he said softly that he could do no more, +but that those who loved the little quiet +child must pray to God to spare her to +them; and that night, too, while tears were +falling fast, and there seemed to be no +hope, Grant, in his loneliness and misery, +did utter a long, low, mournful howl.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But next morning, after a weary night, +those who watched saw the bright glow of +returning day lighting up the eastern sky, +and the sun had not long risen before +Gran’ma woke as if from a long sleep, +looked up in her mother’s eyes as if she +knew her once more, and the great time of +peril was at an end.</p> + +<p class='c008'>All through the worst no hands but her mother’s had touched her; but +now a nurse was brought in to help—a quiet, motherly, North-country woman +who one day stood at the door, and held up her hands in astonishment, for +she had been busy down-stairs for an hour, and now that she had returned +there was a great reception on the bed: Buzz was seated on the pillow purring; +the rabbits all three were playing at the bed being a warren, and loping +in and out from the valance; Grant was seated on a chair with his head close +up to his mistress’s breast; and Dinny was reading aloud from a picture storybook +like this, but the book was upside down, and she invented all she said.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Bless the bairn! what does this mean?” cried nurse.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It meant that Dinny had brought up all Gran’ma’s friends, and that the +poor child was rapidly getting well.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id044'> +<img src='images/illus067.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>The Sunshine Corner</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Miss Myrtle read to the children this afternoon an Account +sent by her married cousin, Mrs. Pingry. Mrs. Pingry wrote: +“I spell it with a big A, just for fun, because it is of so small a matter, +but it was a sunshiny matter for it caused some smiling, and it brought +out real kindness from several persons.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Mr. Pingry goes in on the 8.17 train and attends to his furnace +the last thing, allowing twelve minutes to reach the station. When +about half-way there, yesterday, it occurred to him that he forgot to +shut the drafts. Just then he met Jerry Snow, the man at the Binney +place, and asked him to please call round our way, and ask for Mrs. +Pingry, and say Mr. Pingry had left the drafts open. Jerry said he +would after going to the post-office, but Mr. Pingry, fearing Jerry +might forget, called hastily at the door of Madam Morey, an elderly +woman who does plain sewing, and said he forgot to shut the furnace +drafts; if she should see a boy passing would she ask him to call at +our door, and ask for Mrs. Pingry, and tell her? Madam said she +would be on the lookout for a boy, while doing her baking.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now as Mr. Pingry was hurrying on, it came to him that he had +not yet made a sure thing of it, and at that moment he saw the woman +who does chore-work at the Binney’s, coming by a path across the +field. He met her at the fence, and asked if she would go around by +our house and say to Mrs. Pingry that Mr. Pingry had left the drafts +all open. She agreed, and Mr. Pingry ran to his train, a happy man.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now Madam Morey felt anxious about the furnace, and stepped +often to the window, and at last spied a small boy with a sled, and +finding he knew where we live, told him Mr. Pingry went away and +forgot to shut the furnace drafts and wished to send back word, +and would the boy coast down that way and tell Mrs. Pingry? The +boy promised, and coasted down the hill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Madam Morey still felt uneasy about the furnace, and not being +sure the boy would do the errand kept on the watch for another; and +when the banana-man stopped and made signs at her window ‘would +she buy?’ she wrote a few words on a bit of brown paper and went +with him far enough to point out the house and made signs, ‘would he +leave the paper there?’ He made signs ‘yes?’ and passed on.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now at about half-past eight, our front doorbell rang and I heard +a call for me. I hurried down, and received the chore-woman’s message +and acted upon it at once.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sometime afterwards, as I was in the back-chamber, I heard voices +outside and saw six or eight small boys trying to pull their sleds over +a fence, and wondered how they happened to be coasting in such a +place. Presently I heard a commotion on the other side and went to +the front windows. All the sleds were drawn up near the steps, and +the small boys were stamping around like an army come to take the +house. Seeing me they all shouted something at me. They seemed +so terribly in earnest, and came in such a strange way, that I flew +down, sure something dreadful had happened—perhaps Willy was +drowned! and I began to tremble. At sight of me at the door they +all shouted again, but I did not understand. I caught hold of the biggest +boy and pulled him inside, and said to him, in a low, tremulous +voice, ‘Tell me! What is it?’ He answered, in a bashful way, ‘Mr. +Pingry said he left the drafts open.’ ‘Thank you all!’ I said.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Next, the banana-man, bobbing his head, and making signs, +though I shook my head ‘no.’ Finally up came Bridget with a slip of +brown paper having written on it, but no name signed: ‘Your furnace +drafts are open.’ Such a shout as went up from us!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Grand company coming, I guess! exclaimed my sister, a short +time afterwards. Sure enough there stood a carriage and span. Jerry +Snow, it seems, forgot our furnace until he went to look at his own. +He was then just about to take Mrs. Binney out for an airing. He +mentioned it to her and she had him drive round with the message.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“By this time we were ready to go off, explode, shout, giggle, at +the approach of any one; and when Madam Morey stepped up on our +piazza we bent ourselves double with laughter, and my sister went +down upon the floor all in a heap, saying, ‘Do—you—suppose—she—comes—for +that?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Even so. She had worried, thinking the hot pipes might heat +the woodwork, and half-expected to hear the cry of ‘fire!’ and bells +ringing, and could not sit still in her chair, and in the goodness of her +heart she left her work and came all the way over!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh! we had fun with Mr. Pingry that evening. But now, my +dear Miss Myrtle, the funniest part of all was that Mr. Pingry did not +forget to shut the drafts!”</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Miss Fillissy-Follissy.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>A SLUMBER SONG.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div><a href="music/a_slumber_song.mp3" class="x-ebookmaker-drop">Listen</a></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id045'> +<a href='images/a_slumber_song.png'><img src='images/illus069.jpg' alt='A SLUMBER SONG. Words by M. H. Music by F. E. S. Softly throughout, but well accented.' class='ig001' /></a> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>1. Sleep, oh sleep, my lambs a-wea-ry! Shin-ing sun-beams all are o’er;</div> + <div class='line'>’Tis the time when lit-tle children Sail a-way to slum-ber shore.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>2. Glid-ing, glid-ing to the mu-sic Of a ten-der, tender lulla-by</div> + <div class='line'>Gent-ly drift the lads and lass-es When the stars come out on high.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>3. Soft-ly to the swaying grass-es Fall the gracious drops of dew;</div> + <div class='line'>Yet more soft-ly at the gloaming Close the bairn-ies’ eyes of blue.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id046'> +<img src='images/illus070.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id047'> +<img src='images/illus071.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>THE GROCER’S BOY.</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Sammy Swattles wasn’t a bad boy, you understand; he was +simply thoughtless. He thoughtlessly did things which robbed +him of peace of mind for some time after he did them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When Sammy was ten years old he had to leave school, to go to +work for Mr. Greens, the grocer, in order to help support his mother.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He did a great many things for the grocer, from seven o’clock in +the morning till six at night, but his principal work was to place large +paper bags on the scales and fill them with flour from the barrel.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the bag weighed twenty-three pounds, Sammy had to seal +it up and take it to the family it was ordered for. The grocer allowed +him two cents for every bag he carried, over and above his wages, +which were $2.50 per week. Some weeks Sammy made over $3.00 +which helped his mother to run their little house quite comfortably.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Now, Sammy, in his thoughtlessness, used to sample quite a good +deal of the grocer’s preserved ginger. Every time he would pass the +tin boxes of ginger, he would thoughtlessly take a piece, and it would +disappear in the recesses of Sammy’s rosy mouth.</p> + +<p class='c008'>One night, after he had locked up all but the front door of the store, +he helped himself to quite a large piece of the ginger, and walked +home.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He did not care for any supper that night. He felt as if bed was +the best place for his troubled little stomach.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He hadn’t been in bed two minutes when a little fierce man, with a +white cloth round his black body and a huge grin on his ebony face, +bounded into his room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>With a scream Sammy leaped out of bed and bounded out of the +window. With a yell the Indian was after him. Sammy flew down +the road like a runaway colt, the black man in his rear yelling like +thunder and lions. Sammy never ran so fast in his life, but the little +black man gained on him, and finally caught him!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sammy pleaded hard to be spared to his mother, but the little man +grimly took him by the collar, and with one leap landed him on the +island of Ceylon, in the Indian Ocean, at a place called Kandy. Then +he led Sammy out into the country, and blew a whistle. In an instant +they were surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of men, women and +boys, all as black as Sammy’s captor. Sammy cried:</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What have I done! what have I done!” and they all cried:</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You have taken the ginger that we have gathered by hard work, +without permission, and you are condemned to live here for the rest +of your life on ginger alone!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then Sammy began to cry real hard, for he thought of his poor +mother, off there in Massachusetts, wondering day after day, “What +has become of my Sammy!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>And then to be compelled to eat nothing but ginger all his life! +It was awful! He already hated ginger. He looked so woebegone +that they all cried:</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If you will promise to be good, and think before you do things, +we will let you go! But if you don’t keep your promise we’ll get you +again, and then, look out!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>So Sammy promised, and ran for home. But the black people +seemed to regret having let him off so easily, and they all came trooping +after him!</p> + +<p class='c008'>You should have seen Sammy run! He went over through India, +and across Afghanistan, Persia and Turkey like a streak of lightning! +He plunged into the Mediterranean and swam across to Italy. +From Italy he swam to Spain; and across Spain, from Tarragona to +Cape Finisterre, he ran like the Rapids of the River St. Lawrence, the +black people at his heels!</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was almost exhausted as he dove off Cape Finisterre into the +broad Atlantic, and he would have sunk down deep, for fifteen or +twenty miles, if a friendly dolphin hadn’t come along and invited him +to ride on its shiny back!</p> + +<p class='c008'>The black men gave up the chase then, and the dolphin swam over +to Massachusetts Bay, up Boston Harbor, to the Charles River, to the +bridge by Sammy’s home. There the dolphin said good-by, told +Sammy to always be a good boy, and then, with a flip of its tail, it +rushed down the river—and Sammy awoke!</p> + +<p class='c008'>It had all been a dream, of course; but it cured Sammy of thoughtlesness, +and nobody ever had cause again to say that Sammy Swattles +wasn’t all a nice little boy should be. He told his employer all about +it, and his employer said: “Well, be a good boy, and never do anything +without thinking of whether it’s right or wrong to do it.”</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>John Ernest McCann.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><span class='sc'>An Absent-minded Man.</span></h2> +</div> + +<div class='figleft id048'> +<img src='images/illus073a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figright id049'> +<img src='images/illus073e.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='large'>H</span>e lit a candle for young Ted.</div> + <div class='line'>This absent minded man.</div> + <div class='line'>—Twas time to send the boy to bed—</div> + <div class='line'>But something else came in his head,</div> + <div class='line in4'>Some problem or some plan.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id050'> +<img src='images/illus073b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='large'>H</span>is thoughts were miles and miles away,</div> + <div class='line'>But still the taper there,</div> + <div class='line'>While he was thinking, seemed to say,</div> + <div class='line'>“Bed! Bed! I’ll burn out if I stay!”</div> + <div class='line in4'>And scolded with its glare.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id051'> +<img src='images/illus073c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='large'>A</span>nd so he took Ted’s candle light</div> + <div class='line'>—Ted grinned, the little elf—</div> + <div class='line'>And bade, with manner most polite,</div> + <div class='line'>His son a very sweet good-night,</div> + <div class='line in4'>And went to bed himself.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id052'> +<img src='images/illus073d.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id053'> +<img src='images/illus074a.jpg' alt='Good King Grin. KING GRIN PRINCE LAUGH' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>Good King Grin.</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='figleft id054'> +<img src='images/illus074b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>THE JESTER.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='large'>T</span>here is a King in Nonsense Land</div> + <div class='line'>Whose castle, neither tall nor grand,</div> + <div class='line'>Is gaily perched upon a hill</div> + <div class='line'>Behind the town of Jolliville.</div> + <div class='line'>A spangled jester lets you in—</div> + <div class='line'>Whoever calls on good King Grin.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figright id054'> +<img src='images/illus074c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>“QUITE BALD.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>His height in feet is only four;</div> + <div class='line'>Around his waist is one foot more;</div> + <div class='line'>His mouth is wide; his eyes are twinkles</div> + <div class='line'>Half hidden in a net of wrinkles;</div> + <div class='line'>His beard is red; his hair is thin—</div> + <div class='line'>In fact, quite bald is good King Grin.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figleft id055'> +<img src='images/illus074d.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>PRINCESS GIGGLE.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>His family—beneath the sun</div> + <div class='line'>You never saw a happier one:</div> + <div class='line'>The good Queen Smile, so fair to see;</div> + <div class='line'>Prince Laugh, the heir-apparent he;</div> + <div class='line'>And Princess Giggle’s baby din—</div> + <div class='line'>Is life and joy to good King Grin.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Three ministers of state has he:</div> + <div class='line'>Prime Minister is Pleasantry;</div> + <div class='line'>In Foreign Matters, great and small,</div> + <div class='line'>Good-Nature ministers to all;</div> + <div class='line'>And Cheerfulness, when bills come in,</div> + <div class='line'>Is Treasurer to good King Grin.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id056'> +<img src='images/illus075a.jpg' alt='Ministers of State' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>His courser is a palfry stout,</div> + <div class='line'>And when the good king rides about,</div> + <div class='line'>The very babies crow for joy:</div> + <div class='line'>From peasant-man and peasant-boy,</div> + <div class='line'>From landed knight and all his kin,</div> + <div class='line'>Arise one cry: “Long live King Grin.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id057'> +<img src='images/illus075b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic057'> +<p><span class='small'><i>Ralph Bergengren.</i></span></p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>A Funny Twin Brother</i></h2> +</div> + +<div class='c005'> + <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus076.jpg' width='113' alt='' /> +</div><p class='drop-capi_8'> +Last sum-mer when we were in the coun-try +hav-ing a hap-py ho-li-day, we of-ten went +in-to the hay-field, and you lit-tle ones may +fan-cy the fun we had. John-ny and Lil-ly +rolled in the sweet fresh hay, and were +bu-ried and came up a-gain ma-ny and +ma-ny a time; and just when we thought there was not +a bit of chub-by child to be seen, a round red laugh-ing +face would peep out, fol-lowed by a sort of wind-mill of +arms and legs.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was on a bright sum-mer’s day in that hay-field that +we met Tim and his lit-tle mis-tress. “Who was Tim?” +you say. Well, Tim was a don-key, and such a hap-py +pet-ted don-key has sel-dom been seen be-fore. Liz-zy—the +lit-tle girl you see in the pic-ture—was the far-mer’s +daugh-ter, and as she led Tim round her fa-ther’s field, +she picked up the sweet hay and fed him with it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When Tim and lit-tle Liz-zy came near us, we all went +up to pat the don-key: then the lit-tle girl told us how +good and gen-tle her Tim was. “We are very luc-ky to +have such a good don-key,” said she.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And I think he is luc-ky to have such a good lit-tle +mis-tress,” said I.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, but he be-longs to us all,” an-swered the child, +“and there are six of us; we all feed and pet him. My +father bought him when he was quite lit-tle. He is five +years old now; just the same age as my lit-tle bro-ther +Willy. So he is his Twin Bro-ther you see,” ad-ded +Liz-zy grave-ly.</p> + +<div class='figcenter id058'> +<img src='images/illus077.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id044'> +<img src='images/illus079a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>Sam on the kitchen funnel blew</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='figright id059'> +<img src='images/illus079b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Sam on the kitchen funnel blew,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>The dinner-bell Jane rang;</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The bellows made a nice guitar,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>Min played while Alice sang.</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Tom came to hear us, Tabby too,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>Who brought her kittens three;</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>And also Flora with her pup;</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>We let them all in—free!</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id044'> +<img src='images/illus079c.jpg' alt='_S Birch_' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id060'> +<img src='images/illus080.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div>TO</div> + <div>WEE PEOPLE</div> + <div>WHO MAKE HOME</div> + <div>HAPPY WITH ARTLESS</div> + <div>PRATTLE AND MERRY</div> + <div>PLAY, THIS BOOK IS</div> + <div>LOVINGLY</div> + <div>DEDICATED.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c013' /> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='section ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + + <ol class='ol_1 c002'> + <li>Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. + + </li> + <li>Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. + </li> + </ol> + +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. 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. + +Title: Our Little Tot’s Own Book + of Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and + Jingles + +Author: Anonymous + +Release Date: May 17, 2021 [eBook #65368] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Richard Tonsing, Juliet Sutherland, and the Online + Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK *** + +[Illustration] + + “WHAT DO THEY SAY IN BABY-LAND?” + “WHY, THE ODDEST THINGS; + MIGHT AS WELL + TRY TO TELL + WHAT A BIRDIE SINGS!” + +[Illustration] + + BABY-LAND. + + “HOW MANY MILES TO BABY-LAND?” + “ANY ONE CAN TELL; + UP ONE FLIGHT, + TO YOUR RIGHT: + PLEASE TO RING THE BELL.” + + “WHAT DO THEY DO IN BABY-LAND?” + “DREAM AND WAKE AND PLAY; + LAUGH AND CROW, + SHOUT AND GROW: + HAPPY TIMES HAVE THEY!” + +[Illustration] + + + + + OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK + OF + _Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and Jingles_. + + + NEW YORK: + HURST & COMPANY, + PUBLISHERS. + + + + + Copyright, 1912 + —BY— + HURST & COMPANY + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + +_There was once a very happy little girl who spent her childhood on an +old green farm. She had a little sister, and these two children never +knew what it was to possess toys from the stores, but played, played, +played from dawn till dark, just in the play-places they found on that +green farmstead. I so often have to tell my children “how mama used to +play”—for I was that very happy little girl—that I think other “little +women” of these days will enjoy knowing about those dear old simple +play-times._ + + + I.—THE LITTLE STUMP-HOUSE. + +One of my pet playhouses was an old stump, out in the pasture. Such a +dear, old stump as it was, and so large I could not put my arms more +than half way round it! + +Some of its roots were partly bare of earth for quite a little distance +from the stump, and between these roots were great green velvety moss +cushions. + +On the side, above the largest moss cushion, was a little shelf where a +bit of the stump had fallen away. On this little shelf I used to place a +little old brass candlestick. I used to play that that part of the stump +was my parlor. + +Above the next moss cushion were a number of shelves where I laid pieces +of dark-blue broken china I had found and washed clean in the brook. +That was my dining-room. + +There were two or three little bedrooms where the puffy moss beds were +as soft as down. My rag dolly had many a nap on those little green beds, +all warmly covered up with big sweet-smelling ferns. + +Then there was the kitchen! Hardly any moss grew there. I brought little +white pebbles from the brook, and made a pretty, white floor. Into the +side of the stump above this shining floor, I drove a large nail. On +this nail hung the little tin pan and iron spoon with which I used to +mix up my mud pies. + +My sister had a stump much like mine, and such fine times as the owners +of those two little stump-houses used to have together, only little +children know anything about. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: THE STUMP PLAY-HOUSE.] + + + + +[Illustration] + + THE STOLEN LITTLE ONE. + A TRUE STORY. + + +[Illustration] + +Two little girls went shopping with their mamma. While she was at the +end of the store, Julie, the youngest, ran to the door. Her mother was +too busy to notice her, but Julie’s sister Mattie was watching her. She +saw a tall woman pass the door, and snatch up little Julie. Without a +word to her mother, Mattie ran after them. + +Away they went down the street. The woman would soon have outrun Mattie, +but her screams attracted the attention of a policeman. He followed too. +They came up with the woman as she was darting into a cellar. Mattie +told the policeman that the bad woman had stolen her sister Julie. He +soon took both children home. Their mother was overjoyed to see them, +and praised Mattie for being such a brave little girl. She never let +Julie go out of her sight again, when she took her out on the street. + + PINK HUNTER. + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + II.-THE OLD APPLE-TREE. + +There was an old apple-tree in the orchard that was the oldest tree in +the town. It overtopped the house, and the trunk was very big and brown +and rough; but O, the millions of fine green leaves, as soft and smooth +as silk, that it held up in the summer air! + +In the spring it was gay with pink and white blossoms, and then for days +the tree would be all alive with the great, black-belted bees. A little +later those sweet blossoms would fall off in a rosy rain, and Myra and I +would stand under the old apple-tree and try to catch the little, +fluttering things in our apron! And then, later still, came little +apples, very sour at first, but slowly sweetening until it seemed to me +that those juicy, golden-green apples tasted the best of any fruit in +all the world! My apron-pockets were always bursting with them! + +There was a famous horse up in the old tree. It could only be reached by +means of a ladder placed against the old tree’s stout trunk! A strange +horse, you would call him, but O, the famous rides that I have had on +that horse’s broad, brown back! The name of the horse was “General.” + +Up among the leaves where the sunshine played hide-and-seek was one dear +bough that was just broad enough and just crooked enough to form a nice +seat. Another bough bent round just in the very place to form a most +comfortable back to that seat. A pair of stirrups made of rope, some +rope reins tied to the trunk of the tree, and there was my horse, “all +saddled and all bridled!” + +I put my feet into the stirrups, shake my bridle-reins and cry, “Get up, +General!” + +The bough would sway a little, and I and the birds would be off +together, swinging and singing, up in a fair green world where there was +no one to disturb nest or little rider! The birds would sing to me, and +I would sing to them, and which of those little singers was the +happiest, I do not know! + +But I do know that my little heart was full of glee and joy to the brim! + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: RIDING “GENERAL.”] + + + + +[Illustration] + + SHE WISHED TO BE A PRINCESS. + _A True Story._ + + +Little Mary had had a volume of Hans Andersen’s Fairy Stories given her +at Christmas. The story she liked best was “The Princess and the Pea,” +for, like all little girls, little Mary had a natural desire to be a +Princess. + +When she went to bed at night with her doll little Mary would think to +herself, “Oh, how beautiful to be a real princess of such very fine +blood as to feel a little bit of a pea under twenty mattresses!” + +One morning a comforting idea came to little Mary. “Who knows,” she said +to herself, “with all my very many great grandfathers and grandmothers, +but p’raps I am related to some King or Queen way back?” + +Thereupon, she went to her mother’s pantry and took a bean from the +jar—as large a one as she could find—and, going to her room, put it +carefully under the hair mattress. That night she went to bed happy, +with joyful hopes. + +In the morning little Mary’s elder sister found her with her head buried +in her pillow crying. “Oh,” little Mary sobbed, “I did think I might +have just a little speck of royal blood in my veins, but I couldn’t feel +even that big bean under just one mattress!” + +Nothing would comfort little Mary until her mama explained to her that +even princesses were not happy unless they had good hearts; and _she_ +could have, if she tried, just as good and royal a heart as any Princess +under the sun. + + _Anne Fiske Davenport._ + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + III.—THE LITTLE POND. + +Out in the pasture, was a little pond. This little pond was quite deep +in the time of the spring and autumn rains. At such seasons Myra and I +would take our little raft made of boards, and by means of some stout +sticks would push the raft around on that little pond for hours. The +wind would raise little waves, and these waves would splash up against +the sides of our little raft with a delicious sort of noise. + +We used to dress a smooth stick of wood in doll’s clothes. We used to +call this wooden dolly by the name of Mrs. Pippy. We would take Mrs. +Pippy on board our ship as passenger. Somehow, Mrs. Pippy always +contrived to fall overboard. And then, such screaming, such frantic +pushing of that raft as there would he, before that calmly-floating Mrs. +Pippy was rescued! + +Just beyond the further edge of the pond was a little swampy place where +great clumps of sweet-flag used to grow. Sweet-flag is a water-plant +whose leaves are very long and slender and their stem-ends, where they +wrap about each other, are good to eat. In summer this little sweet-flag +swamp was perfectly dry. But when the rains had come and the little pond +was full, this little sweet-flag swamp was covered with water. + +Right between the pond and the swamp lay a big timber, stretching away +like a narrow bridge, with the pond-water lapping it on one side and the +swamp-water lapping it on the other. Such exciting times as we used to +have running across that little bridge after sweet-flag! + +“Run! run!” we would cry to each other; and then, away we would go, +running like the wind, yet very carefully, for the least misstep was +sure to plump us into the water! + +When the water in the swamp had nearly dried up, a bed of the very +nicest kind of mud was left. Taking off our shoes and stockings, we +would dance in that sticky mud until we were tired. Then we would hop +over the timber and wash our small toes clean in the pond. + + _Percia V. White._ + + + + + _Clever Tommy._ + + +[Illustration] + +“You like clever cats, Arthur,” said Laura; “and I am sure this is one. +See how funnily he is drinking the milk with his paw. Did you know this +cat, mamma?” + +“Yes, my dear, I was staying at the house when his mistress found him +out. We used to wonder sometimes why there was so little milk for tea, +and my friend would say ‘They must drink it in the kitchen, for the neck +of the milk jug is so narrow, Tom could not get his great head in.’ + +“But Tom was too clever to be troubled at the narrow neck of the milk or +cream jug, and one day when his mistress was coming towards the parlor +through the garden, she saw Tom on the table from the window, dipping +his paw into the jug like a spoon and carrying the milk to his mouth. +Did he not jump down quickly, and hide himself when she walked in, for +he well knew he was doing wrong.” + +“And was he punished, mamma?” + +“No, Laura, although his mistress scolded him well, and Tom quite +understood, for cats who are kindly treated are afraid of angry words.” + +“Did you ever see Tom drink the milk in this way?” + +“Yes, for his mistress was proud of his cleverness, and she would place +the jug on the floor for him. When she did that, Tom knew he might drink +it, and he would take up the milk in his paw so cleverly that it was +soon gone.” + + + + +[Illustration] + + FLOWERS. + + + How stilly, yet how sweetly, + The little while they bloom, + They teach us quiet trustfulness, + Allure our hearts from selfishness, + And smile away our gloom: + So do they prove that heavenly love + Doth every path illume! + + How stilly, yet how sadly, + When summer fleeteth by, + And their sweet work of life is done, + They fall and wither, one by one, + And undistinguish’d lie: + So warning all that Pride must fall, + And fairest forms must die! + + How stilly, yet how surely, + They all will come again, + In life and glory multiplied, + To bless the ground wherein they died, + And long have darkly lain:— + So we may know, e’en here below, + Death has no lasting reign! + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + IV.—THE LITTLE BROOK. + +We had a merry playmate in a little brook that ran down through the +sunny meadows! It slipped and slid over little mossy pebbles and called +to us, “Follow, follow, follow!” in the sweetest little voice in the +world! + +Sometimes, I would kneel down on the little low bank, and bend my head +down close, and ask, “Where are you going, little brook?” + +It would splash a cool drop of spray in my face, and run on calling, +“Follow, follow, follow!” just as before. + +Wild strawberries grew red and sweet down in the tall grass, and great +purple violets, and tall buttercups nid-nodding in the wind. + +Very often Myra and I would take off our shoes and stockings, and wade. +The roguish little brook would tickle my small toes, and try and trip me +up on one of its little mossy stones. Once I did slip and sat right down +in the water with a great splash! And the little brook took all the +starch out of my clothes, and ran off with it in a twinkling. + +Now and then, I would fasten a bent pin to a string and tie the string +to the end of a stick and fish for the tiny minnows and tadpoles. But, +somehow, I never caught one of the little darting things. I used to +believe the brook whispered them to keep away from that little shining +hook. + +Sometimes, I would take a big white chip and load it with pebbles or +violets and send it down stream. The sly little brook would slip my boat +over one of its tiny waterfalls just as quick as it could! If my little +boat was loaded with pebbles, down would go my heavy cargo to the +bottom! But if it were loaded with violets, then a fleet of fairy purple +canoes would float on and on, and away out of sight. + +A great green frog with big, staring eyes watched from the side of the +brook. Now and then, he would say, “Ker-chug!” in a deep voice. I used +to ask him in good faith, what “ker-chug!” meant. But he did not tell, +and to this day I have not found out what “ker-chug” means. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: “WILD STRAWBERRIES GREW RED AND SWEET DOWN IN THE TALL +GRASS.”] + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + V.—THE MEADOW-ROCKS. + +Another place where I played was out on the meadow-rocks. Right down in +a level spot in the meadow were three great rocks. Each one of these +rocks was as large as a dining-room table. Right through this little +flat place ran the brook I have told you about, bubbling round our three +great rocks. + +0, what splendid playhouses those rocks were! We each owned one. The +third was owned by that wooden doll, Mrs. Pippy. In order to get to +either one of the houses you had to cross a little bridge that spanned a +tiny river. Also there were dear little steps up the sides of the rocks +which it was such a pleasure to go up and down. + +On the top of the rocks, which were almost as flat as the top of a +table, were little closely-clinging patches of moss that we called our +rugs. There were queer-shaped hollows in the tops of these rocks. In one +little moss-lined hollow I used to cradle my baby-doll. Another hollow +was my kitchen sink. I used to fill up my sink with bits of broken +dishes, turn on some water from the brook, and then such a scrubbing as +my dishes got! + +At the rocks, kneeling down on the planks that formed our bridges, we +used to wash our dollies’ clothes. Then we would spread them on the +grass to dry. Didn’t we use to keep our babies clean and sweet! + +Afterwards, pinning our short skirts up about us, we would wash the +floors of our little rock houses until they shone. When everything was +spick-and-span, we would unpin our skirts, pull down our sleeves, rub +our rosy cheeks with a mullein leaf to make them rosier, and with a big +burdock leaf tied on with a couple of strings for a bonnet we would go +calling on our lazy neighbor, Mrs. Pippy, and give her a serious +“talking-to.” + +Or, perhaps, we would call on each other and talk about the terrible +illnesses our poor children were suffering from. Or, perhaps, we would +go to market. The market consisted of a long row of raspberry bushes +along the meadow fence. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: WASHING-DAY AT THE ROCK-HOUSES.] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + But when to-morrow, down the lane, + I walk among the flowers again, + Between the tall red hollyhocks, + Here I shall find you as before, + Asleep within your fastened door,— + My lazy four-o’clocks! + MARGARET JOHNSON. + + + + +[Illustration] + + _THE SNOW WITCH._ + + +There was skating on the ponds where the snow had been cleared; there +were icicles on the trees, nice blue, clear skies in the daytime, cold, +bright, wintry moonlight at night. + +Lovely weather for Christmas holidays! But to one little five-year-old +man, nothing had seemed lovely this Christmas, though he was spending it +with his Father and Mother and his big sisters at Grandpapa’s beautiful +old country house, where everybody did all that could be done to make +Grandpapa’s guests happy. For poor little Roger was pining for his elder +brother, Lawson, whom he had not seen for more than four months. Lawson +was eight, and had been at school since Michaelmas, and there he had +caught a fever which had made it not safe for him to join the rest of +the family till the middle of January. But he was coming to-morrow. + +Why, then, did Roger still look sad and gloomy? + +“Stupid little boy!” said Mabel. “I’m sure we’ve tried to amuse him. +Why, Mamma let him sit up an hour later than usual last night, to hear +all those funny old fairy tales and legends Uncle Bob was telling.” + +“Yes, and weren’t they fun?” answered Pansy. “I did shiver at the witch +ones, though, didn’t you?” + +Poor little Roger! Pansy’s shivering was nothing to his! They had all +walked home from the vicarage, tempted by the clear, frosty moonlight +and the hard, dry ground; and trotting along, a little behind the +others, a strange thing had happened to the boy. Fancy—in the field by +the Primrose Lane, through the gateway, right in a bright band of +moonlight, _he had seen a witch_. Just such a witch as Uncle Bob had +described—with shadowy garments, and outstretched arms, and a +queer-shaped head, on all of which the icicles were sparkling, just as +Uncle Bob had said. For it was a winter-witch he had told the story +about, whose dwelling was up in the frozen northern seas—“the Snow +Witch” they called her. + +[Illustration] + +Cold as it was, Roger was in a bath of heat, his heart beating wildly, +his legs shaking, when he overtook his sisters. And the night that +followed was full of terrible dreams and starts and misery, even though +nurse and baby were next door, and he could see the night-light through +the chinks. If it had not been that Lawson was coming—Lawson who never +laughed at him or called him “stupid little goose,” Lawson who listened +to all his griefs—Roger could not have borne it. For, strange to say, +the little fellow told no one of his trouble; he felt as if he could +_only_ tell Lawson. + +No wonder he looked pale and sad and spiritless; there was still another +dreadful night to get through before Lawson came. + +But things sometimes turn out better than our fears. Late that +afternoon, when nursery tea was over and bedtime not far off, there came +the sound of wheels and then a joyful hubbub. Lawson had come! Uncle Bob +had been passing near the school where he was, and had gone a little out +of his way to pick him up. Every one was delighted—oh, of them all, +_none_ so thankful as Roger. + +“Though I wont tell him to-night,” decided the unselfish little fellow, +“not to spoil his first night. I sha’n’t mind when I know he’s in his +cot beside me.” And even when Lawson lovingly asked him if anything was +the matter, he kept to his resolution. + +But he woke in the middle of the night from a terrible dream; Lawson +woke too, and then—out it all came. + +“I thought she was coming in at the window,” Roger ended. “If—if you +look out—it’s moonlight—I think _p’r’aps_ you’ll see where she stands. +But no, no! Don’t, _don’t_! She might see you.” + +So Lawson agreed to wait till to-morrow. + +“I have an idea,” said Lawson. “Roger, darling, go to sleep. _I’m_ here, +and you can say your prayers again if you like.” + +Lawson was up very early next morning. And as soon as breakfast was over +he told Roger to come out with him. Down the Primrose Lane they went, in +spite of Roger’s trembling. + +“Now, shut your eyes,” said Lawson, when they got to the gate. He opened +it, and led his brother through. + +“Look, now!” he said, with a merry laugh. And what do you think Roger +saw? + +[Illustration] + +An old scarecrow, forgotten since last year. There she stood, the “Snow +Witch,” an apron and ragged shawl, two sticks for arms, a bit of +Grandpapa’s hat, to crown all—that was the witch! + +“Shake hands with her, Roger,” said Lawson. And shake hands they both +did, till the old scarecrow tumbled to pieces, never more to frighten +either birds or little boys. “Dear Lawson,” said Roger, lovingly, as he +held up his little face for a kiss. And happy, indeed, were the rest of +the Christmas holidays. + +May they never love each other less, these two; may they be true +brothers in manhood as they have been in their childish days! + + _L. Molesworth._ + + + + + _THE THREE BLIND MICE._ + _THE STORY TOLD BY A BROWNIE._ + + +Well, first of all, I must tell you that I am a Brownie, and although I +am ever and ever so old, I look as young to-day as I did when I was but +one year old. Well, it was about seven hundred years ago, and I used to +be a great deal with some other Brownies, cousins of mine, visiting at +the same farm-houses as they did, and helping them with their work. And +it was in this way that I got to know the Three Blind Mice,—Purrin, +Furrin, and Tod. + +Pretty, pleasant little fellows they were; and they were not blind +then,—far from it. They lived up in the loft of Dame Marjoram’s room, +over at Fiveoaks Farm. + +Such merry supper-parties as never were, I think, before or since, we +used to have then. We would think nothing of finishing a round of apple +and a walnut-shell full of honey between us, in one evening, to say +nothing of scraps of cheese-rind and the crumbs we stole from the birds. +Purrin had a most melodious voice, and could sing a good song, while Tod +was never at a loss for an amusing story. As to Furrin, he was almost as +quaint as our Mr. Puck, and, though perhaps it is not for _me_ to say +so, when those in high places do encourage him, not one-tenth as +mischievous. + +When Angelina, the old stable cat, had kittens, he would get into all +sorts of out-of-the-way places, and imitate their squeaky little voices, +so that she was always on the fidget, thinking she must have mislaid one +somewhere, and never able to find it. For you see, as she could not +count, she never knew whether they were all beside her or no. Often he +would coax a whole hazel-nut out of Rudge, the Squirrel, who lived on +the Hanger, just above, and whom every one believed to be a miser. And +then his Toasting-fork Dance was so sprightly and graceful, it did your +heart good to see it. Ah, me! those days are gone, and Furrin is gone +too; and the Moon, when she looks through that chink in the barn roof, +no longer sees us feasting and making merry on the great beam. + +And this is how they became blind: + +[Illustration] + +They were very fond of Gilliflower, Dame Marjoram’s little daughter, and +after the nurse had put her to bed, Furrin, Purrin, and Tod used to +creep up into her room, and read her some of the funny little tales from +Mouse-land till she went to sleep. She would lie there with her eyes +shut, and perhaps imagined that it was her own thoughts that made her +fancy all about the fairy tales that came into her head; but really it +was the mice who read them to her, but in such a low voice that +Gilliflower never thought of opening her eyes to see if any one was +there. I must tell you that the print in Mouse-land is very, very small +and hard to read. This did not matter so much during the long Summer +evenings, when there was plenty of light to see to read by; but when the +Winter came on, and the mice had only the firelight to read by, then +reading the small print began to tell its tale. You know how bad it is +for the eyesight to read any print by firelight, and it must be very +much worse when the print is very small; and so Furrin would say to +Purrin, “My eyes are getting quite dim, so now you must read;” and +before Purrin had read a page he would say the same thing to Tod, and +then Tod would try; but after a time their eyes became so dim they +couldn’t see at all, and so they had to invent stories to tell little +Gilliflower; so the poor little mice went quite blind, trying to amuse +their little girl friend. + +I took what care of them I could; but their blindness was very sad for +them. No longer had Purrin the heart to sing or Furrin to dance and +jest. Only they would sit close together, each holding one of Tod’s +hands, and listening to his stories, for he kept his spirits best, and +did all he could to cheer the others. All the marketing fell to me then, +and it gave me plenty to do; for, poor souls, the only amusement left +them was a dainty morsel, now and then. + +And, by and by, they became so tired of sitting still, when Tod had +exhausted all his stock of stories, that they got reckless, and would go +blundering about the house after Dame Marjoram, whom they knew by the +rustle of her silken skirt, and the tapping of her high-heeled shoes. +They all ran after her, forgetting, that although they could not see +her, still she could see them, and trying to follow her into her +store-room, where the almonds, and raisins, and sugar, and candied-peel +were kept. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +I told them she would get angry, and that harm would come of it; but I +think their unhappiness and dulness made them quite foolhardy, for they +still went on, getting under her feet, and well-nigh tripping her up; +clambering into the lard-pot before her very eyes; in short, doing a +thousand irritating and injudicious things day by day, until her +patience was quite worn out. And at last, when they scrambled on to the +dinner-table, thinking it to be the store-room shelf, and sat all in a +row, quietly eating out of Miss Gilliflower’s plate, Dame Marjoram, who +had the carving-knife in her hand, thought it high time for them to have +a lesson in manners. So, thinking the knife was turned blunt side +downwards, she rapped them smartly across their three tails. What was +her horror and their dismay, to find them cut off quite cleanly. The +little tails lay still on the table, and the three little mice, +well-nigh crazed with terror and pain, groped their way off the table +and out of the room. + +I was returning from the cheese-room, and met them crossing the great +hall. + +Of course, I took in at a glance all that had occurred, and I must say +that I felt but little surprise, though much sorrow. I guided them to +our old haunt in the loft-roof and then sat down to prepare a Memorial +for Dame Marjoram, giving a full account of all that they had suffered +for the sake of her family. + +[Illustration] + +This I placed on the top of the key-basket; and while she was reading +it, with my usual tact I silently brought in Purrin, Furrin, and Tod, +and pushed them forward in front of her. + +The tears stood in her eyes as she finished reading my scroll, and from +that time forth nothing was too good for the Three Blind Mice. The good +wife even tried to make new tails for them. + +But they did not live long to enjoy their new happiness. The loss of +their sight, followed by the shock of having their tails cut off, was +too much for them. They never quite recovered, but died, all on the same +day, within the same hour, just a month afterward. + +Their three little graves were made beneath the shadows of a lavender +bush in the garden. + +Sometimes I go there to scatter a flower or two, and to shed a tear to +the memory of Purrin, Furrin, and Tod. + + _Helen J. Wood._ + +[Illustration] + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + VI—THE LILACS. + +There was a great clump of lilac bushes out by the garden wall. These +lilacs grew close together and made a thick hedge nearly around a little +plot of ground, where the grass grew so thick and velvety that it was +like a great green rug, and they bent their tall heads over this little +green plot, and so formed a lovely summer-house. + +Here we used to sew for our dolls, and here we used to give tea-parties. +Raspberry shortcake was one of the dainties we used to have. This is the +way we made it: Take a nice clean raspberry leaf, heap it with +raspberries, and put another leaf on top. Eat at once. + +In this lovely summer-house I used to keep school. I had a row of bricks +for scholars. Each brick had its own name. Two or three of the bricks +were nice and red and new. I named those new bricks after my dearest +little school-friends. + +The rest of the bricks were either broken or blackened a little. Those +bricks were my naughty, idle scholars. I used to stand them up in a row +to learn their lessons. The first thing I knew those bad bricks would +all tumble down in a heap. Numbers of little lilac-switches grew about +my schoolhouse, and I fear I was a severe teacher. + +When the lilacs were in bloom, that dear little summer-house was a very +gay little place. The great, purple plumes would nod in every little +wind that blew. The air was full of sweetness. Butterflies made the +trees bright with their slowly-waving wings. There was a drowsy hum of +many bees. Sometimes we would catch hold of one of the slender trunks of +the lilac trees, and give it a smart shake. Away would flash a bright +cloud of butterflies, and a swarm of angry, buzzing bees! + +Pleasant Sabbath afternoons, we used to take our Sunday-school books out +under the lilacs to read. And as we read about good deeds and unselfish +lives, our own choir of birds would sing sweet hymns. Then we would look +up and smile, and say, “They have good singing at the lilac church, +don’t they?” + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: I HAD A ROW OF BRICKS FOR SCHOLARS.] + + + + + EIGHT YEARS OLD. + THE SINGING-LESSON. + + + A slender, liquid note, + Long-drawn and silver-sweet. + Obediently the little maid + Tries, timid still, and half afraid, + The lesson to repeat. + + A breezy turn or two, + A blithe and bold refrain, + A ripple up and down the scale, + And still the learner does not fail + To echo soft the strain. + + A burst of melody + Wild, rapturous, and long. + A thousand airy runs and trills + Like drops from overflowing rills,— + The vanquished pupil’s song + + Breaks into laughter sweet. + And does her master chide? + Nay; little Ethel’s music-room + Is mid the sunny garden’s bloom, + Her roof the branches wide. + + With parted lips she stands + Among the flowers alone. + Her teacher—hark! again he sings! + A stir—a flash of startled wings— + The little bird has flown! + MARGARET JOHNSON. + + + + +[Illustration: “One,| Two,| Buckle| My Shoe.” By Margaret Johnson] + + + Smile on me, Baby, my sweet, + As I kneel humbly here at your feet. + My Prince, with no crown for your head, + But your own sunny tresses instead. + And your lips and your eyes gravely sweet, + Smile down on me here at your feet, + Little one. + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + VII.—THE SAND-BANK. + +That sand-bank in the pasture was one of the nicest of our playhouses. +There was neither dust nor dirt in it—nothing but clean, fine sand, with +now and then a pebble. It was not high, so there was no danger of a +great mass of sand falling down on us two children. + +The sand-bank was not very far from the little brook. Myra and I would +carry pailful after pailful of water from the brook to it, until we had +moistened a large quantity of sand. Sometimes we would cover our little +bare feet with the cool, wet sand, packing it just as close as we could. +Then gently, O, so gently, we would pull our feet out from under the +sand. The little “five-toed caves” as we used to call them, would show +just as plain as could be, where our little feet had been! We used to +catch little toads and put them into those little damp caves, but they +would soon hop out. + +We used to make the nicest pies and cakes and cookies out of that lovely +wet sand. We used to wish our sand-dainties were fit to eat! + +Oftentimes, when we were tired of cooking, we would go to work and lay +out a wonderful garden with tiny flower-beds and winding paths, out of +that wet sand. Some of those flower-beds were star-shaped, some were +round as a wheel, and some were square. We used to gather handfuls of +wild-flowers and stick them down in, until every tiny bed blossomed into +pink and blue and white and gold! + +We used to make sand-preserves out there. The time and the patience that +we used up in filling narrow-necked bottles with sand! After a bottle +was well-filled and shaken down, we would catch up that bottle and run +down to the brook. We would wash the outside of that bottle until it +shone like cut-glass, and then we would pack it away in a hollow stump +that we called our preserve-closet. + +We used to play a game that we called “Hop-scotch” out in the old +sand-bank. In this game, you mark the sand off into rather large +squares. Then hopping along on one foot, you try with your toe to push a +pebble from one square into another. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: THE SAND-BANK GARDEN.] + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + VIII.—THE OLD PASTURE. + +I used to play a great deal out in the old pasture. It had a clump of +cradle-knolls in it. A cradle-knoll is a little mound of moss. + +On these mossy little cradle-knolls, checkerberry leaves and berries +used to grow. How delicious those spicy young checkerberry leaves +tasted! And we hunted those red plums as a cat hunts a mouse! + +The pasture had two or three well-beaten paths in it, that the cows had +made by their sober steady tramping back and forth from the barnyard +lane to the growth of little trees and bushes and tender grass at the +back. At sunset-time, two little barefooted girls would “spat” along +those cool smooth winding paths after those cows. + +As long as we kept in the paths our little feet were all right. But +sometimes a clump of bright wild-flowers tempted us, and then two sorry +little girls with thistle-prickles in their feet would come limping +back. But out where the tender grasses grew there were no thistles, and +such fun as hide-and-seek used to be among the bushes! + +Sometimes we could not find the cows very readily; and then we would +climb up on a smutty stump and call, “co’ boss! co’ boss!” until the +woods rang. + +In the spring, we would go a-maying out in the old pasture, and O, such +great handfuls of the sweet mayflower as we used to bring home! Later +on, we would gather great bunches of sweet-smelling herbs that grew wild +out there, and carry them home to hang up in the shed-chamber and dry. + +If one of my schoolmates had been unkind to me, I would go out into the +old pasture, and there I would plan out for myself a lovely future +wherein I should be _very_ rich and _very_ good to the poor. And my +unkind schoolmate would be one of the humble receivers of my gifts, and +so it would come about that before I got through building air-castles I +would actually feel sorry for the poor schoolmate who had ill-used me. +And then home I would go, singing and skipping! + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: “CO’ BOSS!! CO’ BOSS!”] + + + + + Little Mother Hubbard. + + +[Music] + + 1. Lit-tle Mo-ther Hub-bard sat + In the park at play, With her gown and point-ed hat All of so-ber + gray. And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce be-lieved my eyes; + And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce believed my eyes. + + 2. Pug no long-er frisked a-bout, + For he felt the loss Of his sup-per and his cake, So was tired and + cross. And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug; + And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug. + + 3. Mo-ther Hub-bard hur-ried home, + Say-ing, “Mer-cy me! Pug shall have some frost-ed cake And a cup of + tea.” But the cake was eat-en up And the nurse had lost his cup; + But the cake was eat-en up, And the nurse had lost his cup. + + + + +[Illustration: PILLOW·LAND] + + + GOOD-NIGHT. + + Suck-a-Thumb, + Bed-time’s come. + + Dressed in white, + Shut eyes tight. + + “Nighty, night!” + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + IX.—THE ELM-TREE. + +Out in one of the meadows was a big elm-tree. It was very tall, and in +summer it looked like a monster bunch of green plumes. + +It stood on the bank of our little brook. Right where the old elm stood, +the bank was quite high, six feet almost. The boughs on the old tree +grew very low. I would catch hold of one of those low-hanging boughs. +Then, I would give a little run and jump. Away out over the bank and +over the brook I would swing! + +Oftentimes I would take my patchwork out under the old elm. But soon the +patchwork would be on the ground, forgotten, and an idle little girl +would be lying flat on the grass, with her hands clasped under her head, +looking up into the clear blue sky! + +I used to make believe that the white clouds were my ships, coming into +harbor under full sail. And I used to make up fine names for my ships, +and O, such splendid cargoes as they would be loaded with, all for +me—their rich young owner—the idle dreamer in the grass! + +O, it was such fun to lie there in the midst of funny daisies with their +high white collars, and buttercups with their yellow caps! The roguish +little winds would make them bend over and tickle the rosy face of the +little girl whom the birds and the brook had almost hushed off to sleep. +There would be a soft little touch on my forehead, and then another on +my chin, and yet others on my cheeks. Then I would open my eyes and +laugh at those funny little white and gold heads, soberly wagging up and +down. But once I was rather frightened out under the old elm. I had been +lying flat on my back for an hour or two, when I was called. I half +raised myself up and answered. My hand was on the ground just where I +had been lying. I felt something squirming around my thumb. It was a +tiny brown snake! Of course, it was as harmless as a fly, but didn’t I +spring to my feet! + +When I had to recite a little piece in school or at a church concert, I +always used to rehearse that little piece out under the old elm, over +and over again. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: SWINGING ON THE ELM-TREE BOUGH.] + + + + + _Puggie in Disgrace._ + + + Child-ren, just look at this queer little Pug, + His small wrin-kled nose, his little black mug! + I fear he’s been naugh-ty at les-sons to-day, + And, like naugh-ty child-ren, he’s pun-ished this way. + + He sits on the stool of re-pent-ance, you see; + Poor Pug-gie is gen-tle and meek as can be; + But when at his les-sons he just took a nap, + And that is the rea-son he wears the Fool’s cap. + + His neck has an or-na-ment, not like his head, + But a beau-ti-ful lock-et and rib-bon in-stead; + So you see that to some one the dog-gie is dear, + Al-though they all tease him I very much fear. + + From Ho-race, the eld-est, to lit-tle Miss May, + All in-sist that Poor Pug-gie should join in their play; + Some-times they pet him, and some-times they tease, + But he bears it all pa-tient-ly, eager to please. + + He rolls his big eyes, or just heaves a sigh, + And thinks they’ll make up for it all by and by. + For Pug-gie is greed-y, and bears a great deal + For the sake of some cakes or a good heart-y meal. + + But though he _is_ greed-y, his faults are but few, + He is lov-ing and hon-est, de-vo-ted and true. + If our two-foot-ed friends were as faith-ful as he + Ve-ry for-tu-nate peo-ple I think we should be. + +[Illustration] + + + + + _TIC-TAC-TOO._ + + +Tic-tac-too was a little boy; he was exactly three years old, and the +youngest in the family; so, of course, he was the king. His real name +was Alec; but he was always known in the household, and among his wide +circle of friends generally, as Tic-tac-too. There was a little story to +account for this, and it is that story which I am now going to tell. + +[Illustration] + +There are very few children who do not know the funny old nursery rhyme +of “Tic-tac-too;” it is an old-fashioned rhyme, and in great vogue +amongst nurses. Of course Alec enjoyed it, and liked to have his toes +pulled, and the queer words said to him. But that is not the story; for +it is one thing to like a nursery rhyme very much, and another to be +called by the name of that rhyme, and nothing else. + +Now, please, listen to the story. + +There was no nicer house to live in than Daisy Farm: it was +old-fashioned and roomy; there were heaps of small bedrooms with low +ceilings, and heaps of long passages, and unexpected turnings, and dear +little cosey corners; and there was a large nursery made out of two or +three of the small rooms thrown together, and this nursery had casement +windows, and from the windows the daisies, which gave their name to the +farm, could be seen. They came up in thousands upon thousands, and no +power of man and scythe combined could keep them down. The +mowing-machine only suppressed them for a day or two; up they started +anew in their snowy dresses, with their modest pink frills and bright +yellow edges. + +Mr. Rogers, who owned Daisy Farm, objected to the flowers; but his +children delighted in them, and picked them in baskets-full, and made +daisy-chains to their hearts’ content. There were several children who +lived in this pleasant farmhouse, for Tic-tac-too had many brothers and +sisters. The old-fashioned nursery was all that a modern nursery should +be; it had deep cupboards for toys, and each child had his or her wide +shelf to keep special treasures on; and the window-ledges were cosey +places to curl up in on wet days, when the rain beat outside, and the +wind sighed, and even the daisies looked as if they did not like to be +washed so much. + +[Illustration] + +Some of the children at Daisy Farm were old enough to have governesses +and masters, to have a schoolroom for themselves, and, in short, to have +very little to say to the nursery; but still there were four nursery +little ones; and one day mother electrified the children by telling them +that another little boy was coming to pay them a visit. + +“He is coming to-morrow,” said mother; “he is a year younger than Alec +here, but his mother has asked us to take care of him. You must all be +kind to the little baby stranger, children, and try your very best to +make him feel at home. Poor little man, I trust he will be happy with +us.” + +[Illustration] + +Mother sighed as she spoke; and when she did this, Rosie, the eldest +nursery child, looked up at her quickly. Rosie had dark gray eyes, and a +very sympathetic face; she was the kind of child who felt everybody’s +troubles, and nurse said she did this far more than was good for her. + +The moment her mother left the room, Rosie ran up to her nurse, and +spoke eagerly— + +“Why did mother sigh when she said a new little boy was coming here, +nursie?” + +“Oh, my love, how can I tell? People sigh most likely from habit, and +from no reason whatever. There’s nothing to fret anybody in a sigh, Miss +Rosie.” + +“But mother doesn’t sigh from habit,” answered Rosie; “I expect there’s +going to be something sad about the new little boy, and I wonder what it +is. Harry, shall we collect some of our very nicest toys to have ready +for the poor little new boy?” + +Harry was six; he had a determined face, and was not so generous as +Rosie. + +“I’ll not give away my skin-horse,” he said, “so you needn’t think it, +nor my white dog with the joints; there are some broken things down in +that corner that he can have. But I don’t see why a new baby should have +my best toys. Gee-up, Alec! you’re a horse, you know, and I’m going to +race you from one end of the nursery to the other—now trot!” + +Fat little curly-headed Alec started off good-humoredly, and Rosie +surveyed her own shelf to see which toys would most distract the +attention of the little stranger. + +She was standing on a hassock, and counting her treasures over +carefully, when she was startled by a loud exclamation from nurse. + +“Mercy me! If that ain’t the telegraph boy coming up the drive!” + +Nurse was old-fashioned enough still to regard telegrams with +apprehension. She often said she could never look at one of those awful +yellow envelopes, without her heart jumping into her mouth; and these +fears she had, to a certain extent, infected the children with. + +Harry dropped Alec’s reins, and rushed to the window; Rosie forgot her +toys, and did likewise; Jack and Alec both pressed for a view from +behind. + +“Me, me, me, me want to see!” screamed baby Alec from the back. + +Nurse lifted him into her arms; as she did so, she murmured under her +breath,— + +“God preserve us! I hope that awful boy isn’t bringing us anything bad.” + +Rosie heard the words, and felt a sudden sense of chill and anxiety; she +pressed her little hand into nurse’s, and longed more than ever to give +all the nicest toys to the new little boy. + +Just then the nursery door was opened, and Kate, the housemaid, +appeared, carrying the yellow envelope daintily between her finger and +thumb. + +“There, nurse,” she said, “it’s for you; and I hope, I’m sure, it’s no +ill-luck I’m bringing you.” + +“Oh, sake’s alive!” said nurse. “Children, dears, let me sit down. That +awful boy to bring it to me! Well, the will of the Lord must be done; +whatever’s inside this ugly thing? Miss Rosie, my dear, could you hunt +round somewhere for my spectacles?” + +It always took a long time to find nurse’s spectacles; and Rosie, after +a frantic search, in which she was joined by all the other nursery +children, discovered them at last at the bottom of Alec’s cot. She +rushed with them to the old woman, who put them on her nose, and began +deliberately to read the contents of her telegram. + +The children stood round her as she did so. They were all breathless and +excited; and Rosie looked absolutely white from anxiety. + +“Well, my dears,” said nurse at last, when she had spelt through the +words, “it ain’t exactly a trouble; far from me to say that; but all the +same, it’s mighty contrary, and a new child coming here, and all.” + +“What is it, nurse?” said Harry. “_Do_ tell us what it’s all about.” + +“It’s my daughter, dears,” said nurse; “she’ll be in London to-morrow, +on her way back to America.” + +“Oh, nurse!” said Rosie, “not your daughter Ann?” + +[Illustration] + +“The same, my love; she that has eight children, and four of them with +carrotty hair. She wants me to go up to London, to see her to-morrow; +that’s the news the telegraph boy has brought, Miss Rosie. My daughter +Ann says, ‘Mother, meet me to-morrow at aunt’s, at two o’clock.’ Well, +well, it’s mighty contrary; and that new child coming, and all!” + +“But you’ll have to go, nurse. It would be dreadful for your daughter +Ann not to see you again.” + +“Yes, dear, that’s all very fine; but what’s to become of all you +children? How is this blessed baby to get on without his old Nan?” + +“Oh, nurse, you _must_ go! It would be so cruel if you didn’t,” +exclaimed Rosie. + +Nurse sat thinking hard for a minute or two; then saying she would go +and consult her mistress, she left the room. + +The upshot of all this was, that at an early hour the following morning +nurse started for London, and a girl, of the name of Patience, from the +village, came up to take her place in the nursery. + +Mrs. Rogers was particularly busy during these days. She had some +friends staying with her, and in addition to this her eldest daughter, +Ethel, was ill, and took up a good deal of her mother’s time; in +consequence of these things the nursery children were left entirely to +the tender mercies of Patience. + +Not that that mattered much, for they were independent children, and +always found their own amusements. The first day of nurse’s absence, +too, was fine, and they spent the greater part of it in the open air; +but the second day was wet—a hopelessly wet day—a dull day with a +drizzling fog, and no prospect whatever of clearing up. + +The morning’s post brought a letter from nurse to ask for further leave +of absence; and this, in itself, would have depressed the spirits of the +nursery children, for they were looking forward to a gay supper with +her, and a long talk about her daughter Ann, and all her London +adventures. + +[Illustration] + +But this was not the real trouble which pressed so heavily on Rosie’s +motherly heart; the real anxiety which made her little face look so +careworn was caused by the new baby, the little boy of two years old, +who had arrived late the night before, and now sat with a shadow on his +face, absolutely refusing to make friends with any one. + +He must have been a petted little boy at home, for he was beautifully +dressed, and his curly hair was nicely cared for, and his fair face had +a delicate peach bloom about it; but if he was petted, he was also, +perhaps, spoilt, for he certainly would not make advances to any of his +new comrades, nor exert himself to be agreeable, nor to overcome the +strangeness which was filling his baby mind. Had nurse been at home, she +would have known how to manage; she would have coaxed smiles from little +Fred, and taken him up in her arms, and “mothered” him a good bit. +Babies of two require a great lot of “mothering,” and it is surprising +what desolation fills their little souls when it is denied them. + +Fred cried while Patience was dressing him; he got almost into a passion +when she washed his face, and he sulked over his breakfast. Patience was +not at all the sort of girl to manage a child like Fred; she was rough +in every sense of the word; and when rough petting failed, she tried the +effect of rough scolding. + +“Come, baby, come, you _must_ eat your bread and milk. No nonsense now, +open your mouth and gobble it down. Come, come, I’ll slap you if you +don’t.” + +But baby Fred, though sorrowful, was not a coward; he pushed the bowl of +bread and milk away, upset its contents over the clean tablecloth, and +raised two sorrowful big eyes to the new nurse’s face. + +“Naughty dirl, do away,” he said; “Fred don’t ’ove ’oo. Fred won’t eat +bekfus’.” + +[Illustration] + +“Oh, Miss Rosie, what a handful he is!” said Patience. + +“Let me try him!” said Rosie; “I’ll make him eat something. Come Freddy +darling, you love Rosie, don’t you?” + +“No, I don’t,” said Fred. + +“Well, you’ll eat some breakfast; come now.” + +“I won’t eat none bekfus’—do away.” + +Rosie turned round and looked in a despairing way at her own three +brothers. + +“If only nurse were at home!” she said. + +“Master Fred,” said Patience, “if you won’t eat, you must get down from +the breakfast-table. I have got to clear up, you know.” + +She popped the little boy on the floor. He looked round in a bewildered +fashion. + +“Let’s have a very exciting kind of play, and perhaps he’ll join in,” +said Rosie, in a whisper. “Let’s play at kittens—that’s the loveliest of +all our games.” + +“Kittens” was by no means a quiet pastime. It consisted, indeed, in wild +romps on all-fours, each child assuming for the time the character of a +kitten, and jumping after balls of paper, which they caught in their +mouths. + +“It’s the happiest of all our games, and perhaps he’ll like it,” said +Rosie. + +“Patie,” said Alec, going up to the new nurse, “does ’oo know +_Tic-tac-too_?” + +“Of course I do, master Baby—a silly game that.” + +“I ’ike it,” said little Alec. + +He tripped across the nursery to the younger baby, and sat down by his +side. + +“Take off ’oo shoe,” he said. + +Fred was very tired of being cross and miserable. He could not say he +was too little to Alec, for Alec was scarcely bigger than himself. +Besides he understood about taking off his shoe. It was a performance he +particularly liked. He looked at Baby Alec, and obeyed him. + +“Take off ’oo other shoe,” said Alec. + +Fred did so. + +“Pull off ’oo ’tocks,” ordered the eldest baby. + +Fred absolutely chuckled as he tugged away at his white socks, and +revealed his pink toes. + +“Now, come to Patie.” + +Fred scrambled to his feet, and holding Alec’s hand, trotted down the +long nursery. + +“Patie,” said Alec, “take F’ed on ’our lap, and play _Tic-tac-too_ for +him?” + +[Illustration] + +Patience was busy sewing; she raised her eyes. Two smiling little +baby-boys were standing by her knee. Could this child, whose blue eyes +were full of sunshine, be the miserable little Fred? + +“Well, master Alec,” she said, kissing the older baby, “you’re a perfect +little darling. Well, I never! to think of you finding out a way to +please that poor child.” + +“Tic-tac-too!” said Fred, in a loud and vigorous voice. He was fast +getting over his shyness, and Alec’s game suited him to perfection. + +But the little stranger did _not_ like the game of kittens. He marched +in a fat, solid sort of way across the nursery, and sat down in a +corner, with his back to the company. Here he really looked a most +dismal little figure. The view of his back was heart-rending; his curly +head drooped slightly, forlornness was written all over his little +person. + +“What a little muff he is!” said Harry; “I’m glad I didn’t give my skin +horse to him.” + +“Oh, don’t,” said Rosie, “can’t you see he’s unhappy? I must go and +speak to him. Fred,” she said, going up to the child, “come and play +with Alec and me.” + +[Illustration] + +“No,” said Fred, “I’se too little to p’ay.” + +“But we’ll have such an easy play, Fred. _Do_ come; I wish you would.” + +“I’se too little,” answered Fred, shaking his head again. + +At that moment Rosie and her two elder brothers were called out of the +room to their morning lessons. Rosie’s heart ached as she went away. + +“Something must be done,” she said to herself. “That new little boy-baby +will get quite ill if we can’t think of something to please him soon.” + +She did not know that a very unexpected little deliverer was at hand. +The two babies were now alone in the nursery, and Patience, having +finished her tidying up, sat down to her sewing. + +Patience lifted him on her lap, popped him down with a bounce, kissed +him, and began,— + + “Tic, tac, too, + The little horse has lost his shoe, + Here a nail, and there a nail, + Here a nail, and there a nail, + Tic, tac, too!” + +When the other children returned to the nursery, they heard peals of +merry baby laughter; and this was the fashion in which a little boy won +his name. + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + X.—THE PASTURE FENCE. + +We used to play a great deal about the pasture fence. It was a high rail +fence and we used to take a little pole in both hands as a balancing +pole, and run along on the top. Carefully we balanced ourselves as we +ran! But finally we would tip first one way and then the other, and +then, with a little laughing scream, off we’d topple! + +Sometimes we would put a board through the fence and have a fine time at +“seesaw.” Up one of us would go, high in the air, and down would go the +other with a thud! + +We used to play that the pasture fence was a huge cupboard. Each rail +was a shelf. Many of those rail-shelves were loaded down with bits of +broken dishes, shining pebbles, bits of green moss that we called +“pincushions,” and white clam-shells full of strawberries, or +raspberries, or little dark juicy choke-cherries. The contents of the +clam-shells were for the birds. If we found a clam-shell lying on the +ground, we believed with all our little hearts that a little winged +creature had been fed from our cupboard. + +Sometimes we would carry on a thriving millinery store out at the +pasture fence. We would make queer little bonnets out of birch-bark. +Then we would sew wildflowers on the bonnets and lay them on the rails +of the fence for sale. Such a number of those funny little bonnets as +would be on exhibition on our rail-counters! + +One of the big upright posts of our rail fence was hollow a little way +down. One day we found on the ground a nest full of birdlings; one of +them was dead, and a little green snake had almost reached the nest. The +mother-bird was flying about crying pitifully. I snatched the nest away +and carried it O, so carefully to the pasture fence and put it down in +the hollow of the fence-post. Then we went a bit away and waited. Pretty +soon there was a little rush of wings; and soon the mother-bird settled +down in that hollow post just as cunning as could be. And that dear +little family staid in that hollow post until the baby-birds grew up and +flew away. + + _Percia V. White._ + + + + + LULU’S FIRST THANKSGIVING. + + +Lulu was six years old last spring. She came to make a visit at her +grandfather’s, and stayed until after Thanksgiving. + +[Illustration] + +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’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. + +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’s. It did not take them long to get +acquainted. Before time for dinner they felt as if they had always known +each other. + +[Illustration] + +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. + +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. + +After dinner they played all kinds of games. All the uncles and aunts +and grown-up cousins played blind-man’s-buff with them. + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + XI.—OUR RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE. + +We had a number of rainy-day playhouses. When it did not rain very hard, +Myra and I would scamper out to our little playhouse made of boards, and +listen to the patter of the drops. + +It was not a very costly playhouse. It was built in a corner made by the +shed and the orchard fence. One side of our playhouse was the shed. +Another side was the fence; this open side we used to call our +bay-window. A creeping hop vine twined around the rough fence-boards and +made a green lace curtain for our bay-window. The third side was made of +boards. Across this side stretched the wide board seat, which was the +only furniture of our playhouse. The fourth, or front side of the +playhouse consisted mostly of a “double-door,” of which we were very +proud. This double-door was two large green blinds. Did not we feel like +truly little housekeepers when we fastened those two blinds together +with a snap! + +When the rain came down in gentle showers we used to go out to the +little playhouse and have a concert. First Myra would step up on to that +wide board seat and recite a little piece. Then I would step up on to +the seat and sing a little song. Perhaps while I was singing a robin in +the orchard would begin to sing, O, so loud and sweet that all the +orchard just rang with that sweet music! We would stop our concert and +listen to the robin. When he had finished, we used to clap our little +hands. And all the time the rain kept up a fairy “tinkle, tinkle,” as if +some one was keeping time for us on a tiny piano. + +Spat-t! Spat-t! would come the little drops through a tiny hole in the +roof of our little house. We used to hold our faces up towards that +little leak in the roof. Oftentimes a drop would strike us fairly on the +tip of our small noses! Then how we would laugh! + +Sometimes we would take hold of hands and repeat together, over and over +again: “Rain, rain, go away, come again, another day!” + +And if we said those words long enough, the rain would go away! + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: THE RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.] + + + + + “HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.” + + + XII.—THE WHOLE WHITE WORLD. + +In winter we played everywhere! The whole white world was a lovely +playground! We had no skates, but we wore very thick-soled boots that +took the place of skates very well. At least we thought so, and that was +all we needed to make us contented. When the little pond was frozen +over, we would take a quick run down its snowy banks and then we would +skim clear across that little pond’s frozen surface just as swift as a +bird would skim through the air. + +Sometimes a thick frost would come in the night-time. The next morning a +fine blue haze would be in the air and everything would be clothed in +soft white frost-furs. As the sun rose higher and higher we would watch +to see the trees and bushes grow warm in the sunshine and throw off +their furs. Then we would try and catch those soft furs as they fell. +But if caught they melted quickly away. + +If the surface of the snow hardened enough so that we could walk on the +crust without breaking through, our happiness was complete. High hills +were all about us, and it seemed to us as if every shining hill would +say if it could, “Come and slide!” + +And O, the happy hours that we have had with our clumsy old sled! Away +we would go, the wind stinging our faces until crimson roses blossomed +in our cheeks, and the shining crust snapping and creaking under our +sled, and the hill flying away behind us! + +If a damp clinging snow came, it made lovely snowballs; and it was such +fun to catch hold of the long clothes-lines and shake them and see +little clumps of snow hop like rabbits from the line into the air. + +And if instead of warmth, and great damp feathery snowflakes, there came +a bitter wind and an icy sleet that froze as it fell—what then? Never +mind! Sunrise would set the whole world a-sparkle. Every tree and bush +would be gay with splendid ice-jewels! And in the great shining ice +palace, we could run and laugh and shout, watching the ice-jewels loosen +and fall, all day long. + + _Percia V. White._ + +[Illustration: “AWAY WE WOULD GO!”] + + + + +[Illustration] + + _GRAN’MA GRACIE._ + + +It was Uncle George who called her “Gran’ma” when she was only six, and +by the time she was seven everybody had taken to the name, and she +answered to it as a matter of course. + +Why did he call her so? Because she was such a prim, staid, serious, +little old-fashioned body, and consequently her mother laughingly took +to dressing her in an old-fashioned way, so that at last, whether she +was out in the grounds, or round by the stables with Grant, in her +figured pink dress, red sash, long gloves, and sun-bonnet, looking after +her pets, or indoors of an evening, in her yellow brocade, muslin +apron—with pockets, of course, and quaint mob cap tied up with its +ribbon—she always looked serious and grandmotherly. + +“It is her nature to,” Uncle George said, quoting from “Let dogs +delight;” and when he laughed at her, Gran’ma used to look at him +wonderingly in the most quaint way, and then put her hand in his, and +ask him to take her for a walk. + +Gran’ma lived in a roomy old house with a delightful garden, surrounded +by a very high red-brick wall that was covered in the spring with white +blossoms, and in the autumn with peaches with red cheeks that laughed at +her and imitated hers; purple plums covered with bloom, and other plums +that looked like drops of gold among the green leaves; and these used to +get so ripe and juicy in the hot sun, that they would crack and peer out +at her as if asking to be eaten before they fell down and wasted their +rich honey juice on the ground. Then there were great lumbering looking +pears which worried John, the gardener, because they grew so heavy that +they tore the nails out of the walls, and had to be fastened up +again—old John giving Gran’ma the shreds to hold while he went up the +ladder with his hammer, and a nail in his mouth. + +That garden was Gran’ma’s world, it was so big; and on fine mornings she +could be seen seriously wandering about with Dinnywinkle, her little +sister, up this way, down that, under the apple-trees, along the +gooseberry and currant alleys, teaching her and Grant that it was not +proper to go on the beds when there were plenty of paths, and somehow +Dinnywinkle, who was always bubbling over with fun, did as the serious +little thing told her in the most obedient of ways, and helped her to +scold Grant, who was much harder to teach. + +[Illustration] + +For Grant, whose papa was a setter, and mamma a very lady-like +retriever, always had ideas in his head that there were wild beasts +hiding in the big garden, and as soon as his collar was unfastened, and +he was taken down the grounds for a run, he seemed to run mad. His ears +went up, his tail began to wave, and he dashed about frantically to hunt +for those imaginary wild beasts. He barked till he was hoarse sometimes, +when after a good deal of rushing about he made a discovery, and would +then look up triumphantly at Gran’ma, and point at his find with his +nose, till she came up to see what he had discovered. One time it would +be a snail, at another a dead mouse killed by the cat, and not eaten +because it was a shrew. Upon one occasion, when the children ran up, it +was to find the dog half wild as he barked to them to come and see what +he was holding down under his paw,—this proving to be an unfortunate +frog which uttered a dismal squeal from time to time till Gran’ma set it +at liberty, so that it could make long hops into a bed of ivy, where it +lived happily long afterwards, to sit there on soft wet nights under a +big leaf like an umbrella, and softly whistle the frog song which ends +every now and then in a croak. + +Grant was always obedient when he was caught, and then he would walk +steadily along between Gran’ma and Dinny, each holding one of his long +silky ears, with the prisoner making no effort to escape. + +But the job was to catch him; and on these occasions Gran’ma used to run +and run fast, while Dinny ran in another direction to cut Grant off. + +[Illustration] + +And a pretty chase he led them, letting them get close up, and then +giving a joyous bark and leaping sidewise, to dash off in quite a fresh +direction. Here he would perhaps hide, crouching down under one of the +shrubs, ready to pounce out on his pursuers, and then dash away again, +showing his teeth as if he were laughing, and in his frantic delight +waltzing round and round after his tail. Then away he would bound on to +the closely shaven lawn, throw himself down, roll over and over, and set +Dinny laughing and clapping her hands to see him play one of his +favorite tricks, which was to lay his nose down close to the grass, +first on one side and then on the other, pushing it along as if it was a +plough, till he sprang up and stood barking and wagging his tail, as +much as to say, “What do you think of that for a game?” ending by +running helter-skelter after a blackbird which flew away, crying +“Chink—chink—chink.” + +That was a famous old wilderness of a place, with great stables and +out-houses, where there was bright golden straw, and delicious +sweet-scented hay, and in one place a large bin with a lid, and +half-full of oats, with which Gran’ma used to fill a little +cross-handled basket. + +“Now, Grant,” she cried, as she shut down the lid, after refusing to let +Dinny stand in the bin and pour oats over her head and down her +back—“Now, Grant!” + +“Wuph!” said Grant, and he took hold of the basket in his teeth, and +trotted on with it before her round the corner, to stop before the +hutches that stood outside in the sun. + +Here, if Dinny was what Gran’ma called “a good girl,” she had a treat. +For this was where the rabbits lived. + +Old Brownsmith sent those rabbits, hutch and all, as a present for +Gran’ma, one day when John went to the market garden with his barrow to +fetch what he called some “plarnts;” and when he came back with the +barred hutch, and set the barrow down in the walk, mamma went out with +Gran’ma and Dinny, to look at them, and Grant came up growling, sniffed +all round the hutch before giving a long loud bark, which, being put +into plain English, meant, “Open the door, and I’ll kill all the lot.” + +“I don’t know what to say, John,” said mamma, shaking her head. “It is +very kind of Mr. Brownsmith, but I don’t think your master will like the +children to keep them, for fear they should be neglected and die.” + +“’Gleckted?” said old John, rubbing one ear. “What! little miss here +’gleck ’em? Not she. You’ll feed them rabbuds reg’lar, miss, wontcher?” + +Gran’ma said she would, and the hutch was wheeled round by the stables, +Grant following and looking very much puzzled, for though he never +hunted the cats now, rabbits did seem the right things to kill. + +But Gran’ma soon taught him better, and he became the best of friends +with Brown Downie and her two children, Bunny and White Paws. + +In fact, one day there was a scene, for Cook rushed into the schoolroom +during lesson time, out of breath with excitement. + +“Please’m, I went down the garden, ’m, to get some parsley, and that +horrid dog’s hunting the rabbits, and killing ’em.” + +There was a cry from both children, and Gran’ma rushed out and round to +the stables, to find the hutch door unfastened, and the rabbits gone, +while, as she turned back to the house with the tears running down her +cheeks, who should come trotting up but Grant, with his ears cocked, and +Bunny hanging from his jaws as if dead. + +Gran’ma uttered a cry; and as Mamma came up with Dinny, the dog set the +little rabbit down, looked up and barked, and Bunny began loping off to +nibble the flowers, not a bit the worse, while Grant ran and turned him +back with his nose, for Gran’ma to catch the little thing up in her +arms. + +Grant barked excitedly, and ran down the garden again, the whole party +following, and in five minutes he had caught White Paw. + +Dinny had the carrying of this truant, and with another bark, Grant +dashed in among the gooseberry bushes, where there was a great deal of +rustling, a glimpse of something brown, and then of a white cottony +tail. Then in spite of poor Grant getting his nose pricked with the +thorns, Brown Downie was caught and held by her ears till mamma lifted +her up, and she was carried in triumph back, Grant trotting on before, +and leading the way to the stable-yard and the hutch, turning round +every now and then to bark. + +The rabbits did not get out again, and every morning and evening they +were fed as regularly as Gran’ma fed herself. + +On reaching the hutch, Grant set the basket down, leaving the handle +rather wet, though he could easily have wiped it with his ears, and then +he sat down in a dreamy way, half closing his eyes and possibly thinking +about wild rabbits on heaths where he could hunt them through furze +bushes, while Gran’ma in the most serious way possible opened the hutch +door. + +[Illustration] + +There was no difficulty about catching White Paw, for he was ready +enough to thrust his nose into his little mistress’s hand, and be lifted +out by his ears, and held for Dinny to stroke. + +“Now let me take him,” she cried. + +“No, my dear, you are too young yet,” said Gran’ma; and Dinny had to be +content with smoothing down White Paw’s soft brown fur, as it nestled up +against its mistress’s breast, till it was put back kicking, and +evidently longing to escape from its wooden-barred prison, even if it +was to be hunted by Grant. + +Then Bunny had his turn, and was duly lifted out and smoothed; after +which, Brown Downie, who was too heavy to lift, gave the floor of the +hutch a sharp rap with one foot, making Grant lift his ear and utter a +deep sigh. + +“No,” he must have thought; “it’s very tempting, but I must not seize +her by the back and give her a shake.” + +Then the trough was filled with oats, the door fastened, and the girls +looked on as three noses were twitched and screwed about, and a low +munching sound arose. + +Three rabbits and a dog! Enough pets for any girl, my reader; but +Gran’ma had another—Buzz, a round, soft-furred kitten with about as much +fun in it as could be squeezed into so small a body. But Buzz had a +temper, possibly soured by jealousy of Grant, whom he utterly detested. + +Buzz’s idea of life was to be always chasing something,—his tail, a +shadow, the corner of the table-cover, or his mistress’s dress. He liked +to climb, too, on to tables, up the legs, into the coal-scuttle, behind +the sideboard, and above all, up the curtains, so as to turn the +looped-up part into a hammock, and sleep there for hours. Anywhere +forbidden to a respectable kitten was Buzz’s favorite spot, and +especially inside the fender, where the blue tiles at the back reflected +the warmth of the fire, and the brown tiles of the hearth were so bright +that he could see other kittens in them, and play with them, dabbing at +them with his velvet paw. + +Buzz had been dragged out from that forbidden ground by his hind leg, +and by the loose skin at the back of his neck, and he had been punished +again and again, but still he would go, and strange to say, he took a +fancy to rub himself up against the upright brass dogs from the tip of +his nose to the end of his tail, and then repeat it on the other side. + +But Gran’ma’s pet did not trespass without suffering for it. Both his +whiskers were singed off close, and there was a brown, rough, +ill-smelling bit at the end of his tail where, in turning round, he had +swept it amongst the glowing cinders, giving him so much pain that he +uttered a loud “Mee-yow!” and bounded out of the room, looking up at +Gran’ma the while as if he believed that she had served him like that. + +[Illustration] + +In Gran’ma’s very small old-fashioned way, one of her regular duties was +to get papa’s blue cloth fur-lined slippers, and put them against the +fender to warm every night, ready for him when he came back tired from +London; and no sooner were those slippers set down to toast, than Buzz, +who had been watching attentively, went softly from his cushion where he +had been pretending to be asleep, but watching all the time with one +eye, and carefully packed himself in a slipper, thrusting his nose well +down, drawing his legs right under him, and snoozling up so compactly +that he exactly fitted it, and seemed part of a fur cushion made in the +shape of a shoe. + +But Buzz was not allowed to enjoy himself in that fashion for long. No +sooner did Gran’ma catch sight of what he had done than she got up, went +to the fireplace, gravely lifted the slipper, and poured Buzz out on to +the hearth-rug, replaced the slipper where it would warm, and went back, +to find, five minutes later, that the kitten had fitted himself into the +other slipper, with only his back visible, ready to be poured out again. +Then, in a half-sulky, cattish way, Buzz would go and seat himself on +his square cushion, and watch, while, to guard them from any more such +intrusions, Gran’ma picked up the slippers and held them to her breast +until such time as her father came home. + +Those were joyous times at the old house, till one day there was a +report spread in the village that little Gran’ma was ill. The doctor’s +carriage was seen every day at the gate, and then twice a day, and there +were sorrow and despair where all had been so happy. Dinny went alone +with Grant to feed the rabbits; and there were no more joyous rushes +round the garden, for the dog would lie down on the doorstep with his +head between his paws, and watch there all day, and listen for the quiet +little footstep that never came. Every day old John, the gardener, +brought up a bunch of flowers for the little child lying fevered and +weak, with nothing that would cool her burning head, and three anxious +faces were constantly gazing for the change that they prayed might come. + +For the place seemed no longer the same without those pattering feet. +Cook had been found crying in a chair in the kitchen; and when asked +why, she said it was because Grant had howled in the night, and she knew +now that dear little Gran’ma would never be seen walking so sedately +round the garden again. + +It was of no use to tell her that Grant had howled because he was +miserable at not seeing his little mistress: she said she knew better. + +“Don’t tell me,” she cried; “look at him.” And she pointed to where the +dog had just gone down to the gate, for a carriage had stopped, and the +dog, after meeting the doctor, walked up behind him to the house, waited +till he came out, and then walked down behind him to the gate, saw him +go, and came back to lie down in his old place on the step, with his +head between his paws. + +They said that they could not get Grant to eat, and it was quite true, +for the little hands which fed him were not there; and the house was +very mournful and still, even Dinny having ceased to shout and laugh, +for they told her she must be very quiet, because Gran’ma was so ill. + +From that hour Dinny went about the place like a mouse, and her favorite +place was on the step by Grant, who, after a time, took to laying his +head in her lap, and gazing up at her with his great brown eyes. + +And they said that Gran’ma knew no one now, but lay talking quickly +about losing the rabbits and about Dinny and Grant; and then there came +a day when she said nothing, but lay very still as if asleep. + +[Illustration] + +That night as the doctor was going, he said softly that he could do no +more, but that those who loved the little quiet child must pray to God +to spare her to them; and that night, too, while tears were falling +fast, and there seemed to be no hope, Grant, in his loneliness and +misery, did utter a long, low, mournful howl. + +But next morning, after a weary night, those who watched saw the bright +glow of returning day lighting up the eastern sky, and the sun had not +long risen before Gran’ma woke as if from a long sleep, looked up in her +mother’s eyes as if she knew her once more, and the great time of peril +was at an end. + +All through the worst no hands but her mother’s had touched her; but now +a nurse was brought in to help—a quiet, motherly, North-country woman +who one day stood at the door, and held up her hands in astonishment, +for she had been busy down-stairs for an hour, and now that she had +returned there was a great reception on the bed: Buzz was seated on the +pillow purring; the rabbits all three were playing at the bed being a +warren, and loping in and out from the valance; Grant was seated on a +chair with his head close up to his mistress’s breast; and Dinny was +reading aloud from a picture storybook like this, but the book was +upside down, and she invented all she said. + +“Bless the bairn! what does this mean?” cried nurse. + +It meant that Dinny had brought up all Gran’ma’s friends, and that the +poor child was rapidly getting well. + + + + +[Illustration] + + The Sunshine Corner + + +Miss Myrtle read to the children this afternoon an Account sent by her +married cousin, Mrs. Pingry. Mrs. Pingry wrote: “I spell it with a big +A, just for fun, because it is of so small a matter, but it was a +sunshiny matter for it caused some smiling, and it brought out real +kindness from several persons. + +“Mr. Pingry goes in on the 8.17 train and attends to his furnace the +last thing, allowing twelve minutes to reach the station. When about +half-way there, yesterday, it occurred to him that he forgot to shut the +drafts. Just then he met Jerry Snow, the man at the Binney place, and +asked him to please call round our way, and ask for Mrs. Pingry, and say +Mr. Pingry had left the drafts open. Jerry said he would after going to +the post-office, but Mr. Pingry, fearing Jerry might forget, called +hastily at the door of Madam Morey, an elderly woman who does plain +sewing, and said he forgot to shut the furnace drafts; if she should see +a boy passing would she ask him to call at our door, and ask for Mrs. +Pingry, and tell her? Madam said she would be on the lookout for a boy, +while doing her baking. + +“Now as Mr. Pingry was hurrying on, it came to him that he had not yet +made a sure thing of it, and at that moment he saw the woman who does +chore-work at the Binney’s, coming by a path across the field. He met +her at the fence, and asked if she would go around by our house and say +to Mrs. Pingry that Mr. Pingry had left the drafts all open. She agreed, +and Mr. Pingry ran to his train, a happy man. + +“Now Madam Morey felt anxious about the furnace, and stepped often to +the window, and at last spied a small boy with a sled, and finding he +knew where we live, told him Mr. Pingry went away and forgot to shut the +furnace drafts and wished to send back word, and would the boy coast +down that way and tell Mrs. Pingry? The boy promised, and coasted down +the hill. + +“Madam Morey still felt uneasy about the furnace, and not being sure the +boy would do the errand kept on the watch for another; and when the +banana-man stopped and made signs at her window ‘would she buy?’ she +wrote a few words on a bit of brown paper and went with him far enough +to point out the house and made signs, ‘would he leave the paper there?’ +He made signs ‘yes?’ and passed on. + +“Now at about half-past eight, our front doorbell rang and I heard a +call for me. I hurried down, and received the chore-woman’s message and +acted upon it at once. + +“Sometime afterwards, as I was in the back-chamber, I heard voices +outside and saw six or eight small boys trying to pull their sleds over +a fence, and wondered how they happened to be coasting in such a place. +Presently I heard a commotion on the other side and went to the front +windows. All the sleds were drawn up near the steps, and the small boys +were stamping around like an army come to take the house. Seeing me they +all shouted something at me. They seemed so terribly in earnest, and +came in such a strange way, that I flew down, sure something dreadful +had happened—perhaps Willy was drowned! and I began to tremble. At sight +of me at the door they all shouted again, but I did not understand. I +caught hold of the biggest boy and pulled him inside, and said to him, +in a low, tremulous voice, ‘Tell me! What is it?’ He answered, in a +bashful way, ‘Mr. Pingry said he left the drafts open.’ ‘Thank you all!’ +I said. + +“Next, the banana-man, bobbing his head, and making signs, though I +shook my head ‘no.’ Finally up came Bridget with a slip of brown paper +having written on it, but no name signed: ‘Your furnace drafts are +open.’ Such a shout as went up from us! + +“Grand company coming, I guess! exclaimed my sister, a short time +afterwards. Sure enough there stood a carriage and span. Jerry Snow, it +seems, forgot our furnace until he went to look at his own. He was then +just about to take Mrs. Binney out for an airing. He mentioned it to her +and she had him drive round with the message. + +“By this time we were ready to go off, explode, shout, giggle, at the +approach of any one; and when Madam Morey stepped up on our piazza we +bent ourselves double with laughter, and my sister went down upon the +floor all in a heap, saying, ‘Do—you—suppose—she—comes—for that?’ + +“Even so. She had worried, thinking the hot pipes might heat the +woodwork, and half-expected to hear the cry of ‘fire!’ and bells +ringing, and could not sit still in her chair, and in the goodness of +her heart she left her work and came all the way over! + +“Oh! we had fun with Mr. Pingry that evening. But now, my dear Miss +Myrtle, the funniest part of all was that Mr. Pingry did not forget to +shut the drafts!” + + _Miss Fillissy-Follissy._ + + + + + A SLUMBER SONG. + + +[Music] + + 1. Sleep, oh sleep, my lambs a-wea-ry! Shin-ing sun-beams all are o’er; + ’Tis the time when lit-tle children Sail a-way to slum-ber shore. + + 2. Glid-ing, glid-ing to the mu-sic Of a ten-der, tender lulla-by + Gent-ly drift the lads and lass-es When the stars come out on high. + + 3. Soft-ly to the swaying grass-es Fall the gracious drops of dew; + Yet more soft-ly at the gloaming Close the bairn-ies’ eyes of blue. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + + THE GROCER’S BOY. + + +Sammy Swattles wasn’t a bad boy, you understand; he was simply +thoughtless. He thoughtlessly did things which robbed him of peace of +mind for some time after he did them. + +When Sammy was ten years old he had to leave school, to go to work for +Mr. Greens, the grocer, in order to help support his mother. + +He did a great many things for the grocer, from seven o’clock in the +morning till six at night, but his principal work was to place large +paper bags on the scales and fill them with flour from the barrel. + +When the bag weighed twenty-three pounds, Sammy had to seal it up and +take it to the family it was ordered for. The grocer allowed him two +cents for every bag he carried, over and above his wages, which were +$2.50 per week. Some weeks Sammy made over $3.00 which helped his mother +to run their little house quite comfortably. + +Now, Sammy, in his thoughtlessness, used to sample quite a good deal of +the grocer’s preserved ginger. Every time he would pass the tin boxes of +ginger, he would thoughtlessly take a piece, and it would disappear in +the recesses of Sammy’s rosy mouth. + +One night, after he had locked up all but the front door of the store, +he helped himself to quite a large piece of the ginger, and walked home. + +He did not care for any supper that night. He felt as if bed was the +best place for his troubled little stomach. + +He hadn’t been in bed two minutes when a little fierce man, with a white +cloth round his black body and a huge grin on his ebony face, bounded +into his room. + +With a scream Sammy leaped out of bed and bounded out of the window. +With a yell the Indian was after him. Sammy flew down the road like a +runaway colt, the black man in his rear yelling like thunder and lions. +Sammy never ran so fast in his life, but the little black man gained on +him, and finally caught him! + +Sammy pleaded hard to be spared to his mother, but the little man grimly +took him by the collar, and with one leap landed him on the island of +Ceylon, in the Indian Ocean, at a place called Kandy. Then he led Sammy +out into the country, and blew a whistle. In an instant they were +surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of men, women and boys, all as black +as Sammy’s captor. Sammy cried: + +“What have I done! what have I done!” and they all cried: + +“You have taken the ginger that we have gathered by hard work, without +permission, and you are condemned to live here for the rest of your life +on ginger alone!” + +Then Sammy began to cry real hard, for he thought of his poor mother, +off there in Massachusetts, wondering day after day, “What has become of +my Sammy!” + +And then to be compelled to eat nothing but ginger all his life! It was +awful! He already hated ginger. He looked so woebegone that they all +cried: + +“If you will promise to be good, and think before you do things, we will +let you go! But if you don’t keep your promise we’ll get you again, and +then, look out!” + +So Sammy promised, and ran for home. But the black people seemed to +regret having let him off so easily, and they all came trooping after +him! + +You should have seen Sammy run! He went over through India, and across +Afghanistan, Persia and Turkey like a streak of lightning! He plunged +into the Mediterranean and swam across to Italy. From Italy he swam to +Spain; and across Spain, from Tarragona to Cape Finisterre, he ran like +the Rapids of the River St. Lawrence, the black people at his heels! + +He was almost exhausted as he dove off Cape Finisterre into the broad +Atlantic, and he would have sunk down deep, for fifteen or twenty miles, +if a friendly dolphin hadn’t come along and invited him to ride on its +shiny back! + +The black men gave up the chase then, and the dolphin swam over to +Massachusetts Bay, up Boston Harbor, to the Charles River, to the bridge +by Sammy’s home. There the dolphin said good-by, told Sammy to always be +a good boy, and then, with a flip of its tail, it rushed down the +river—and Sammy awoke! + +It had all been a dream, of course; but it cured Sammy of +thoughtlesness, and nobody ever had cause again to say that Sammy +Swattles wasn’t all a nice little boy should be. He told his employer +all about it, and his employer said: “Well, be a good boy, and never do +anything without thinking of whether it’s right or wrong to do it.” + + _John Ernest McCann._ + + + + + AN ABSENT-MINDED MAN. + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + He lit a candle for young Ted. + This absent minded man. + —Twas time to send the boy to bed— + But something else came in his head, + Some problem or some plan. + + ◼ + + His thoughts were miles and miles away, + But still the taper there, + While he was thinking, seemed to say, + “Bed! Bed! I’ll burn out if I stay!” + And scolded with its glare. + + ● + + And so he took Ted’s candle light + —Ted grinned, the little elf— + And bade, with manner most polite, + His son a very sweet good-night, + And went to bed himself. + + ◻ + + + + +[Illustration: Good King Grin. KING GRIN PRINCE LAUGH] + + Good King Grin. + + +[Illustration: THE JESTER.] + + There is a King in Nonsense Land + Whose castle, neither tall nor grand, + Is gaily perched upon a hill + Behind the town of Jolliville. + A spangled jester lets you in— + Whoever calls on good King Grin. + +[Illustration: “QUITE BALD.”] + + His height in feet is only four; + Around his waist is one foot more; + His mouth is wide; his eyes are twinkles + Half hidden in a net of wrinkles; + His beard is red; his hair is thin— + In fact, quite bald is good King Grin. + +[Illustration: PRINCESS GIGGLE.] + + His family—beneath the sun + You never saw a happier one: + The good Queen Smile, so fair to see; + Prince Laugh, the heir-apparent he; + And Princess Giggle’s baby din— + Is life and joy to good King Grin. + + Three ministers of state has he: + Prime Minister is Pleasantry; + In Foreign Matters, great and small, + Good-Nature ministers to all; + And Cheerfulness, when bills come in, + Is Treasurer to good King Grin. + +[Illustration: Ministers of State] + + His courser is a palfry stout, + And when the good king rides about, + The very babies crow for joy: + From peasant-man and peasant-boy, + From landed knight and all his kin, + Arise one cry: “Long live King Grin.” + +[Illustration: _Ralph Bergengren._] + + + + + _A Funny Twin Brother_ + + +Last sum-mer when we were in the coun-try hav-ing a hap-py ho-li-day, we +of-ten went in-to the hay-field, and you lit-tle ones may fan-cy the fun +we had. John-ny and Lil-ly rolled in the sweet fresh hay, and were +bu-ried and came up a-gain ma-ny and ma-ny a time; and just when we +thought there was not a bit of chub-by child to be seen, a round red +laugh-ing face would peep out, fol-lowed by a sort of wind-mill of arms +and legs. + +It was on a bright sum-mer’s day in that hay-field that we met Tim and +his lit-tle mis-tress. “Who was Tim?” you say. Well, Tim was a don-key, +and such a hap-py pet-ted don-key has sel-dom been seen be-fore. +Liz-zy—the lit-tle girl you see in the pic-ture—was the far-mer’s +daugh-ter, and as she led Tim round her fa-ther’s field, she picked up +the sweet hay and fed him with it. + +When Tim and lit-tle Liz-zy came near us, we all went up to pat the +don-key: then the lit-tle girl told us how good and gen-tle her Tim was. +“We are very luc-ky to have such a good don-key,” said she. + +“And I think he is luc-ky to have such a good lit-tle mis-tress,” said +I. + +“Oh, but he be-longs to us all,” an-swered the child, “and there are six +of us; we all feed and pet him. My father bought him when he was quite +lit-tle. He is five years old now; just the same age as my lit-tle +bro-ther Willy. So he is his Twin Bro-ther you see,” ad-ded Liz-zy +grave-ly. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + + +[Illustration] + + SAM ON THE KITCHEN FUNNEL BLEW, + THE DINNER-BELL JANE RANG; + THE BELLOWS MADE A NICE GUITAR, + MIN PLAYED WHILE ALICE SANG. + + TOM CAME TO HEAR US, TABBY TOO, + WHO BROUGHT HER KITTENS THREE; + AND ALSO FLORA WITH HER PUP; + WE LET THEM ALL IN—FREE! + +[Illustration: _S Birch_] + + +[Illustration] + + TO + WEE PEOPLE + WHO MAKE HOME + HAPPY WITH ARTLESS + PRATTLE AND MERRY + PLAY, THIS BOOK IS + LOVINGLY + DEDICATED. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. + 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. + 3. 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} + .x-ebookmaker .ol_1 li {padding-left: 1em; text-indent: 0em; } + body {font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: justify; } + table {font-size: .9em; padding: 1.5em .5em 1em; page-break-inside: avoid; + clear: both; } + div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; } + div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } + .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; + page-break-before: always; } + .box {border-style: solid; border-width: medium; padding: 1em; margin: 0em auto; + page-break-inside: avoid; max-width: 25%; } + .hidden { visibility: hidden; display: none; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } + </style> + </head> + <body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Little Tot’s Own Book, by Anonymous</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> + +<table style='min-width:0; padding:0; margin-left:0; border-collapse:collapse'> + <tr><td>Title:</td><td>Our Little Tot’s Own Book</td></tr> + <tr><td></td><td>of Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and Jingles</td></tr> +</table> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Anonymous</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 17, 2021 [eBook #65368]</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: Richard Tonsing, Juliet Sutherland, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net</div> + +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id001'> +<img src='images/illus001.jpg' alt=' “What do they say in Baby-land?” “Why, the oddest things; Might as well Try to tell What a birdie sings!”' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id002'> +<img src='images/illus002.jpg' alt=' BABY-LAND. “How many miles to Baby-land?” “Any one can tell; Up one flight, To your right: Please to ring the bell.” “What do they do in Baby-land?” “Dream and wake and play; Laugh and crow, Shout and grow: Happy times have they!”' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id003'> +<img src='images/illus005.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='titlepage'> + +<div> + <h1 class='c001'>OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK<br /> <span class='small'>OF</span><br /> <span class='large'><i>Pretty Pictures, Charming Stories, and Pleasing Rhymes and Jingles</i>.</span></h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div>NEW YORK:</div> + <div><span class='xlarge'>HURST & COMPANY,</span></div> + <div>PUBLISHERS.</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='box'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div><span class='small'>Copyright, 1912</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>—BY—</span></div> + <div><span class='small'>HURST & COMPANY</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c005'><i><span class='small'>There was once a very happy little girl who spent her childhood on an old green farm. +She had a little sister, and these two children never knew what it was to possess toys from +the stores, but played, played, played from dawn till dark, just in the play-places they found +on that green farmstead. I so often have to tell my children “how mama used to play”—for +I was that very happy little girl—that I think other “little women” of these days will +enjoy knowing about those dear old simple play-times.</span></i></p> + +<h3 class='c006'>I.—THE LITTLE STUMP-HOUSE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>One of my pet playhouses was an old stump, out in the pasture. +Such a dear, old stump as it was, and so large I could not put +my arms more than half way round it!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Some of its roots were partly bare of earth for quite a little distance +from the stump, and between these roots were great green +velvety moss cushions.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the side, above the largest moss cushion, was a little shelf where +a bit of the stump had fallen away. On this little shelf I used to +place a little old brass candlestick. I used to play that that part of +the stump was my parlor.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Above the next moss cushion were a number of shelves where I laid +pieces of dark-blue broken china I had found and washed clean in the +brook. That was my dining-room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There were two or three little bedrooms where the puffy moss beds +were as soft as down. My rag dolly had many a nap on those little +green beds, all warmly covered up with big sweet-smelling ferns.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then there was the kitchen! Hardly any moss grew there. I +brought little white pebbles from the brook, and made a pretty, white +floor. Into the side of the stump above this shining floor, I drove a +large nail. On this nail hung the little tin pan and iron spoon with +which I used to mix up my mud pies.</p> + +<p class='c008'>My sister had a stump much like mine, and such fine times as the +owners of those two little stump-houses used to have together, only +little children know anything about.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/illus009.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>THE STUMP PLAY-HOUSE.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id005'> +<img src='images/illus010a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>THE STOLEN LITTLE ONE.<br /> <span class='large'>A TRUE STORY.</span></h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='figleft id006'> +<img src='images/illus010b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Two little girls went shopping with their mamma. While she +was at the end of the store, Julie, the youngest, ran to the door. +Her mother was too busy to notice her, but Julie’s sister Mattie was +watching her. She saw +a tall woman pass the +door, and snatch up little +Julie. Without a word +to her mother, Mattie ran +after them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Away they went down +the street. The woman +would soon have outrun +Mattie, but her screams +attracted the attention of +a policeman. He followed +too. They came +up with the woman as she +was darting into a cellar. Mattie told the policeman that the bad +woman had stolen her sister Julie. He soon took both children +home. Their mother was overjoyed to see them, and praised Mattie +for being such a brave little girl. She never let Julie go out of her +sight again, when she took her out on the street.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'>PINK HUNTER.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>II.-THE OLD APPLE-TREE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>There was an old apple-tree in the orchard that was the oldest +tree in the town. It overtopped the house, and the trunk was +very big and brown and rough; but O, the millions of fine green leaves, +as soft and smooth as silk, that it held up in the summer air!</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the spring it was gay with pink and white blossoms, and then +for days the tree would be all alive with the great, black-belted bees. +A little later those sweet blossoms would fall off in a rosy rain, and +Myra and I would stand under the old apple-tree and try to catch the +little, fluttering things in our apron! And then, later still, came little +apples, very sour at first, but slowly sweetening until it seemed to me +that those juicy, golden-green apples tasted the best of any fruit in all +the world! My apron-pockets were always bursting with them!</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was a famous horse up in the old tree. It could only be +reached by means of a ladder placed against the old tree’s stout trunk! +A strange horse, you would call him, but O, the famous rides that I +have had on that horse’s broad, brown back! The name of the horse +was “General.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Up among the leaves where the sunshine played hide-and-seek was +one dear bough that was just broad enough and just crooked enough +to form a nice seat. Another bough bent round just in the very place +to form a most comfortable back to that seat. A pair of stirrups made +of rope, some rope reins tied to the trunk of the tree, and there was +my horse, “all saddled and all bridled!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>I put my feet into the stirrups, shake my bridle-reins and cry, +“Get up, General!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The bough would sway a little, and I and the birds would be off +together, swinging and singing, up in a fair green world where there +was no one to disturb nest or little rider! The birds would sing to me, +and I would sing to them, and which of those little singers was the +happiest, I do not know!</p> + +<p class='c008'>But I do know that my little heart was full of glee and joy to the +brim!</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id007'> +<img src='images/illus012.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>RIDING “GENERAL.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id008'> +<img src='images/illus013.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>SHE WISHED TO BE A PRINCESS.<br /> <span class='large'><i>A True Story.</i></span></h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Little Mary had had a volume of Hans Andersen’s Fairy Stories +given her at Christmas. The story she liked best was “The +Princess and the Pea,” for, like all little girls, little Mary had a natural +desire to be a Princess.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When she went to bed at night with her doll little Mary would +think to herself, “Oh, how beautiful to be a real princess of such very +fine blood as to feel a little bit of a pea under twenty mattresses!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>One morning a comforting idea came to little Mary. “Who +knows,” she said to herself, “with all my very many great grandfathers +and grandmothers, but p’raps I am related to some King or +Queen way back?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Thereupon, she went to her mother’s pantry and took a bean from +the jar—as large a one as she could find—and, going to her room, +put it carefully under the hair mattress. That night she went to bed +happy, with joyful hopes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the morning little Mary’s elder sister found her with her head +buried in her pillow crying. “Oh,” little Mary sobbed, “I did think +I might have just a little speck of royal blood in my veins, but I +couldn’t feel even that big bean under just one mattress!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nothing would comfort little Mary until her mama explained to +her that even princesses were not happy unless they had good hearts; +and <i>she</i> could have, if she tried, just as good and royal a heart as any +Princess under the sun.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Anne Fiske Davenport.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>III.—THE LITTLE POND.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>Out in the pasture, was a little pond. This little pond was quite +deep in the time of the spring and autumn rains. At such +seasons Myra and I would take our little raft made of boards, and by +means of some stout sticks would push the raft around on that little +pond for hours. The wind would raise little waves, and these waves +would splash up against the sides of our little raft with a delicious sort +of noise.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to dress a smooth stick of wood in doll’s clothes. We +used to call this wooden dolly by the name of Mrs. Pippy. We would +take Mrs. Pippy on board our ship as passenger. Somehow, Mrs. +Pippy always contrived to fall overboard. And then, such screaming, +such frantic pushing of that raft as there would he, before that calmly-floating +Mrs. Pippy was rescued!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Just beyond the further edge of the pond was a little swampy +place where great clumps of sweet-flag used to grow. Sweet-flag is a +water-plant whose leaves are very long and slender and their stem-ends, +where they wrap about each other, are good to eat. In summer +this little sweet-flag swamp was perfectly dry. But when the rains +had come and the little pond was full, this little sweet-flag swamp was +covered with water.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Right between the pond and the swamp lay a big timber, stretching +away like a narrow bridge, with the pond-water lapping it on one +side and the swamp-water lapping it on the other. Such exciting times +as we used to have running across that little bridge after sweet-flag!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Run! run!” we would cry to each other; and then, away we +would go, running like the wind, yet very carefully, for the least misstep +was sure to plump us into the water!</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the water in the swamp had nearly dried up, a bed of the +very nicest kind of mud was left. Taking off our shoes and stockings, +we would dance in that sticky mud until we were tired. Then we +would hop over the timber and wash our small toes clean in the pond.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>Clever Tommy.</i></h2> +</div> + +<div class='figleft id009'> +<img src='images/illus015.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>“You like clever cats, Arthur,” +said Laura; “and I +am sure this is one. See how +funnily he is drinking the +milk with his paw. Did you +know this cat, mamma?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, my dear, I was +staying at the house when +his mistress found him out. +We used to wonder sometimes +why there was so little +milk for tea, and my +friend would say ‘They +must drink it in the kitchen, +for the neck of the milk +jug is so narrow, Tom could +not get his great head in.’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But Tom was too clever +to be troubled at the narrow +neck of the milk or cream +jug, and one day when his +mistress was coming towards the parlor through the garden, she saw Tom +on the table from the window, dipping his paw into the jug like a spoon +and carrying the milk to his mouth. Did he not jump down quickly, and +hide himself when she walked in, for he well knew he was doing wrong.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And was he punished, mamma?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, Laura, although his mistress scolded him well, and Tom quite +understood, for cats who are kindly treated are afraid of angry words.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Did you ever see Tom drink the milk in this way?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, for his mistress was proud of his cleverness, and she would +place the jug on the floor for him. When she did that, Tom knew he +might drink it, and he would take up the milk in his paw so cleverly +that it was soon gone.”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id010'> +<img src='images/illus016.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>FLOWERS.</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='c011'>H</span>ow stilly, yet how sweetly,</div> + <div class='line in2'>The little while they bloom,</div> + <div class='line'>They teach us quiet trustfulness,</div> + <div class='line'>Allure our hearts from selfishness,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And smile away our gloom:</div> + <div class='line'>So do they prove that heavenly love</div> + <div class='line in2'>Doth every path illume!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>How stilly, yet how sadly,</div> + <div class='line in2'>When summer fleeteth by,</div> + <div class='line'>And their sweet work of life is done,</div> + <div class='line'>They fall and wither, one by one,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And undistinguish’d lie:</div> + <div class='line'>So warning all that Pride must fall,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And fairest forms must die!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>How stilly, yet how surely,</div> + <div class='line in2'>They all will come again,</div> + <div class='line'>In life and glory multiplied,</div> + <div class='line'>To bless the ground wherein they died,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And long have darkly lain:—</div> + <div class='line'>So we may know, e’en here below,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Death has no lasting reign!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>IV.—THE LITTLE BROOK.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>We had a merry playmate in a little brook that ran down through +the sunny meadows! It slipped and slid over little mossy +pebbles and called to us, “Follow, follow, follow!” in the sweetest +little voice in the world!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes, I would kneel down on the little low bank, and bend my +head down close, and ask, “Where are you going, little brook?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>It would splash a cool drop of spray in my face, and run on calling, +“Follow, follow, follow!” just as before.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Wild strawberries grew red and sweet down in the tall grass, and +great purple violets, and tall buttercups nid-nodding in the wind.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Very often Myra and I would take off our shoes and stockings, and +wade. The roguish little brook would tickle my small toes, and try and +trip me up on one of its little mossy stones. Once I did slip and sat +right down in the water with a great splash! And the little brook +took all the starch out of my clothes, and ran off with it in a twinkling.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Now and then, I would fasten a bent pin to a string and tie the +string to the end of a stick and fish for the tiny minnows and tadpoles. +But, somehow, I never caught one of the little darting things. I used +to believe the brook whispered them to keep away from that little +shining hook.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes, I would take a big white chip and load it with pebbles +or violets and send it down stream. The sly little brook would slip my +boat over one of its tiny waterfalls just as quick as it could! If my +little boat was loaded with pebbles, down would go my heavy cargo to +the bottom! But if it were loaded with violets, then a fleet of fairy +purple canoes would float on and on, and away out of sight.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A great green frog with big, staring eyes watched from the side of +the brook. Now and then, he would say, “Ker-chug!” in a deep voice. +I used to ask him in good faith, what “ker-chug!” meant. But he +did not tell, and to this day I have not found out what “ker-chug” +means.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id011'> +<img src='images/illus018.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>“WILD STRAWBERRIES GREW RED AND SWEET DOWN IN THE TALL GRASS.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>V.—THE MEADOW-ROCKS.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>Another place where I played was out on the meadow-rocks. +Right down in a level spot in the meadow were three great +rocks. Each one of these rocks was as large as a dining-room table. +Right through this little flat place ran the brook I have told you about, +bubbling round our three great rocks.</p> + +<p class='c008'>0, what splendid playhouses those rocks were! We each owned +one. The third was owned by that wooden doll, Mrs. Pippy. In order +to get to either one of the houses you had to cross a little bridge that +spanned a tiny river. Also there were dear little steps up the sides of +the rocks which it was such a pleasure to go up and down.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the top of the rocks, which were almost as flat as the top of a +table, were little closely-clinging patches of moss that we called our +rugs. There were queer-shaped hollows in the tops of these rocks. +In one little moss-lined hollow I used to cradle my baby-doll. Another +hollow was my kitchen sink. I used to fill up my sink with bits of +broken dishes, turn on some water from the brook, and then such a +scrubbing as my dishes got!</p> + +<p class='c008'>At the rocks, kneeling down on the planks that formed our bridges, +we used to wash our dollies’ clothes. Then we would spread them on +the grass to dry. Didn’t we use to keep our babies clean and sweet!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Afterwards, pinning our short skirts up about us, we would wash +the floors of our little rock houses until they shone. When everything +was spick-and-span, we would unpin our skirts, pull down our +sleeves, rub our rosy cheeks with a mullein leaf to make them rosier, +and with a big burdock leaf tied on with a couple of strings for a bonnet +we would go calling on our lazy neighbor, Mrs. Pippy, and give +her a serious “talking-to.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Or, perhaps, we would call on each other and talk about the terrible +illnesses our poor children were suffering from. Or, perhaps, we +would go to market. The market consisted of a long row of raspberry +bushes along the meadow fence.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/illus020.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>WASHING-DAY AT THE ROCK-HOUSES.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id012'> +<img src='images/illus021.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>BUT WHEN TO-MORROW</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>But when to-morrow, down the lane,</div> + <div class='line'>I walk among the flowers again,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Between the tall red hollyhocks,</div> + <div class='line'>Here I shall find you as before,</div> + <div class='line'>Asleep within your fastened door,—</div> + <div class='line in2'>My lazy four-o’clocks!</div> + <div class='line in20'><span class='fss'>MARGARET JOHNSON.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id013'> +<img src='images/illus022.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'><i>THE SNOW WITCH.</i></h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>There was skating on the ponds where the snow had been cleared; +there were icicles on the trees, nice blue, clear skies in the daytime, +cold, bright, wintry moonlight at night.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lovely weather for Christmas holidays! But to one little five-year-old +man, nothing had seemed lovely this Christmas, though he was spending +it with his Father and Mother and his big sisters at Grandpapa’s +beautiful old country house, where everybody did all that could be done +to make Grandpapa’s guests happy. For poor little Roger was pining for +his elder brother, Lawson, whom he had not seen for more than four +months. Lawson was eight, and had been at school since Michaelmas, +and there he had caught a fever which had made it not safe for him to join +the rest of the family till the middle of January. But he was coming +to-morrow.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Why, then, did Roger still look sad and gloomy?</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Stupid little boy!” said Mabel. “I’m sure we’ve tried to amuse +him. Why, Mamma let him sit up an hour later than usual last night, +to hear all those funny old fairy tales and legends Uncle Bob was +telling.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, and weren’t they fun?” answered Pansy. “I did shiver at +the witch ones, though, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Poor little Roger! Pansy’s shivering was nothing to his! They had +all walked home from the vicarage, tempted by the clear, frosty moonlight +and the hard, dry ground; and trotting along, a little behind the others, a +strange thing had happened to the boy. Fancy—in the field by the Primrose +Lane, through the gateway, right in a bright band of moonlight, <i>he +had seen a witch</i>. Just such a witch as Uncle Bob had described—with +shadowy garments, and outstretched arms, and a queer-shaped head, on all +of which the icicles were sparkling, +just as Uncle Bob had said. +For it was a winter-witch he had +told the story about, whose dwelling +was up in the frozen northern +seas—“the Snow Witch” they +called her.</p> + +<div class='figleft id014'> +<img src='images/illus023.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Cold as it was, Roger was +in a bath of heat, his heart beating +wildly, his legs shaking, when he +overtook his sisters. And the +night that followed was full of +terrible dreams and starts and +misery, even though nurse and baby were next door, and he could see +the night-light through the chinks. If it had not been that Lawson was +coming—Lawson who never laughed at him or called him “stupid little +goose,” Lawson who listened to all his griefs—Roger could not have +borne it. For, strange to say, the little fellow told no one of his trouble; +he felt as if he could <i>only</i> tell Lawson.</p> + +<p class='c008'>No wonder he looked pale and sad and spiritless; there was still +another dreadful night to get through before Lawson came.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But things sometimes turn out better than our fears. Late that +afternoon, when nursery tea was over and bedtime not far off, there came +the sound of wheels and then a joyful hubbub. Lawson had come! Uncle +Bob had been passing near the school where he was, and had gone a little +out of his way to pick him up. Every one was delighted—oh, of them all, +<i>none</i> so thankful as Roger.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Though I wont tell him to-night,” decided the unselfish little +fellow, “not to spoil his first night. I sha’n’t mind when I know he’s in +his cot beside me.” And even when Lawson lovingly asked him if anything +was the matter, he kept to his resolution.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But he woke in the middle of the night from a terrible dream; +Lawson woke too, and then—out it all came.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I thought she was coming in at the window,” Roger ended. “If—if +you look out—it’s moonlight—I think <i>p’r’aps</i> you’ll see where she stands. +But no, no! Don’t, <i>don’t</i>! She might see you.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>So Lawson agreed to wait till to-morrow.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I have an idea,” said Lawson. “Roger, darling, go to sleep. <i>I’m</i> +here, and you can say your prayers again if you like.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lawson was up very early next morning. And as soon as breakfast +was over he told Roger to come out with him. Down the Primrose Lane +they went, in spite of Roger’s trembling.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now, shut your eyes,” said Lawson, when they got to the gate. +He opened it, and led his brother through.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Look, now!” he said, with a merry laugh. And what do you +think Roger saw?</p> + +<div class='figright id015'> +<img src='images/illus024.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>An old scarecrow, forgotten since last year. There she stood, the +“Snow Witch,” an apron and ragged +shawl, two sticks for arms, a bit of +Grandpapa’s hat, to crown all—that +was the witch!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Shake hands with her, +Roger,” said Lawson. And shake +hands they both did, till the old +scarecrow tumbled to pieces, never +more to frighten either birds or little +boys. “Dear Lawson,” said Roger, +lovingly, as he held up his little face +for a kiss. And happy, indeed, were +the rest of the Christmas holidays.</p> + +<p class='c008'>May they never love each +other less, these two; may they be +true brothers in manhood as they have been in their childish days!</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>L. Molesworth.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>THE THREE BLIND MICE.</i><br /> <span class='large'><i>THE STORY TOLD BY A BROWNIE.</i></span></h2> +</div> + +<div class='c005'> + <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus025.jpg' width='300' alt='' /> +</div><p class='drop-capi_8'> +Well, first of all, I must tell you that I am a +Brownie, and although I am ever and ever so +old, I look as young to-day as I did when +I was but one year old. Well, it was about +seven hundred years ago, and I used to be a +great deal with some other Brownies, cousins of mine, visiting +at the same farm-houses as they did, and helping them +with their work. And it was in this way that I got to know +the Three Blind Mice,—Purrin, Furrin, and Tod.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Pretty, pleasant little fellows they were; and they +were not blind then,—far from it. They lived up in the loft of Dame +Marjoram’s room, over at Fiveoaks Farm.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Such merry supper-parties as never were, I think, before or since, we +used to have then. We would think nothing of finishing a round of apple +and a walnut-shell full of honey between us, in one evening, to say nothing +of scraps of cheese-rind and the crumbs we stole from the birds. Purrin +had a most melodious voice, and could sing a good song, while Tod was +never at a loss for an amusing story. As to Furrin, he was almost as quaint +as our Mr. Puck, and, though perhaps it is not for <i>me</i> to say so, when those +in high places do encourage him, not one-tenth as mischievous.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When Angelina, the old stable cat, had kittens, he would get into all +sorts of out-of-the-way places, and imitate their squeaky little voices, so that +she was always on the fidget, thinking she must have mislaid one somewhere, +and never able to find it. For you see, as she could not count, she +never knew whether they were all beside her or no. Often he would coax +a whole hazel-nut out of Rudge, the Squirrel, who lived on the Hanger, just +above, and whom every one believed to be a miser. And then his Toasting-fork +Dance was so sprightly and graceful, it did your heart good to see +it. Ah, me! those days are gone, and Furrin is gone too; and the Moon, +when she looks through that chink in the barn roof, no longer sees us +feasting and making merry on the great beam.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And this is how they became blind:</p> + +<div class='figright id016'> +<img src='images/illus026.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>They were very fond of Gilliflower, Dame Marjoram’s little daughter, +and after the nurse had put her to bed, Furrin, Purrin, and Tod used to +creep up into her room, and read her some of the funny +little tales from Mouse-land till she went to sleep. She +would lie there with her eyes shut, and perhaps imagined +that it was her own thoughts that made her fancy +all about the fairy tales that came into her head; but +really it was the mice who read them to her, but in such +a low voice that Gilliflower never thought of opening +her eyes to see if any one was there. I must tell you +that the print in Mouse-land is <span class='xxsmall'>very, very small</span> and hard to +read. This did not matter so much during the long +Summer evenings, when there was plenty of light to +see to read by; but when the Winter came on, and the mice had only +the firelight to read by, then reading the small print began to tell its tale. +You know how bad it is for the eyesight to read any print by firelight, and +it must be very much worse when the print is very small; and so Furrin +would say to Purrin, “My eyes are getting quite dim, so now you must +read;” and before Purrin had read a page he would say the same thing to +Tod, and then Tod would try; but after a time their eyes became so dim +they couldn’t see at all, and so they had to invent stories to tell little Gilliflower; +so the poor little mice went quite blind, trying to amuse their little +girl friend.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I took what care of them I could; but their blindness was very sad +for them. No longer had Purrin the heart to sing or Furrin to dance and +jest. Only they would sit close together, each holding one of Tod’s hands, +and listening to his stories, for he kept his spirits best, and did all he could +to cheer the others. All the marketing fell to me then, and it gave me +plenty to do; for, poor souls, the only amusement left them was a dainty +morsel, now and then.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And, by and by, they became so tired of sitting still, when Tod had +exhausted all his stock of stories, that they got reckless, and would go +blundering about the house after Dame Marjoram, whom they knew by +the rustle of her silken +skirt, and the tapping of +her high-heeled shoes. +They all ran after her, +forgetting, that although +they could not see her, +still she could see them, +and trying to follow her +into her store-room, +where the almonds, and +raisins, and sugar, and +candied-peel were kept.</p> + +<div class='figleft id017'> +<img src='images/illus027a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figright id018'> +<img src='images/illus027b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>I told them she would get angry, and that harm would come of it; +but I think their unhappiness and dulness made them quite foolhardy, for +they still went on, getting under her feet, and well-nigh tripping her up; +clambering into the lard-pot before her very eyes; in short, doing a +thousand irritating and injudicious things day by day, until her patience was +quite worn out. And at last, when they scrambled on to the dinner-table, +thinking it to be the store-room shelf, and sat all in a row, quietly eating +out of Miss Gilliflower’s plate, Dame Marjoram, who had the carving-knife +in her hand, thought it high time for them to have a lesson in manners. +So, thinking the knife was turned blunt side downwards, she rapped them +smartly across their three tails. What +was her horror and their dismay, to find +them cut off quite cleanly. The little +tails lay still on the table, and the three +little mice, well-nigh crazed with terror +and pain, groped their way off the table +and out of the room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>I was returning from the cheese-room, +and met them crossing the great +hall.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Of course, I took in at a glance all that had occurred, and I must +say that I felt but little surprise, though much sorrow. I guided them to +our old haunt in the loft-roof and then sat down to prepare a Memorial +for Dame Marjoram, giving a full account of all that they had suffered for +the sake of her family.</p> + +<div class='figleft id019'> +<img src='images/illus028a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>This I placed on the top of the key-basket; +and while she was reading it, with my usual tact +I silently brought in Purrin, Furrin, and Tod, and +pushed them forward in front of her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The tears stood in her eyes as she finished +reading my scroll, and from that time forth nothing +was too good for the Three Blind Mice. The good +wife even tried to make new tails for them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But they did not live long to enjoy their new happiness. The loss of +their sight, followed by the shock of having their tails cut off, was too much +for them. They never quite recovered, but died, all on the same day, +within the same hour, just a month afterward.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Their three little graves were made beneath the shadows of a +lavender bush in the garden.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes I go there to scatter a flower or two, and to shed a tear +to the memory of Purrin, Furrin, and Tod.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Helen J. Wood.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id020'> +<img src='images/illus028b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>VI—THE LILACS.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>There was a great clump of lilac bushes out by the garden wall. +These lilacs grew close together and made a thick hedge nearly +around a little plot of ground, where the grass grew so thick and +velvety that it was like a great green rug, and they bent their tall +heads over this little green plot, and so formed a lovely summer-house.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Here we used to sew for our dolls, and here we used to give tea-parties. +Raspberry shortcake was one of the dainties we used to have. +This is the way we made it: Take a nice clean raspberry leaf, heap +it with raspberries, and put another leaf on top. Eat at once.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In this lovely summer-house I used to keep school. I had a row +of bricks for scholars. Each brick had its own name. Two or three +of the bricks were nice and red and new. I named those new bricks +after my dearest little school-friends.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The rest of the bricks were either broken or blackened a little. +Those bricks were my naughty, idle scholars. I used to stand them +up in a row to learn their lessons. The first thing I knew those bad +bricks would all tumble down in a heap. Numbers of little lilac-switches +grew about my schoolhouse, and I fear I was a severe teacher.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the lilacs were in bloom, that dear little summer-house was +a very gay little place. The great, purple plumes would nod in every +little wind that blew. The air was full of sweetness. Butterflies +made the trees bright with their slowly-waving wings. There was a +drowsy hum of many bees. Sometimes we would catch hold of one +of the slender trunks of the lilac trees, and give it a smart shake. +Away would flash a bright cloud of butterflies, and a swarm of angry, +buzzing bees!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Pleasant Sabbath afternoons, we used to take our Sunday-school +books out under the lilacs to read. And as we read about good deeds +and unselfish lives, our own choir of birds would sing sweet hymns. +Then we would look up and smile, and say, “They have good singing +at the lilac church, don’t they?”</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id021'> +<img src='images/illus030.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>I HAD A ROW OF BRICKS FOR SCHOLARS.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>EIGHT YEARS OLD.<br /> <span class='large'>THE SINGING-LESSON.</span></h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'>A slender, liquid note,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Long-drawn and silver-sweet.</div> + <div class='line'>Obediently the little maid</div> + <div class='line'>Tries, timid still, and half afraid,</div> + <div class='line in2'>The lesson to repeat.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in18'>A breezy turn or two,</div> + <div class='line in18'>A blithe and bold refrain,</div> + <div class='line in16'>A ripple up and down the scale,</div> + <div class='line in16'>And still the learner does not fail</div> + <div class='line in18'>To echo soft the strain.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'>A burst of melody</div> + <div class='line in2'>Wild, rapturous, and long.</div> + <div class='line'>A thousand airy runs and trills</div> + <div class='line'>Like drops from overflowing rills,—</div> + <div class='line in2'>The vanquished pupil’s song</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in18'>Breaks into laughter sweet.</div> + <div class='line in18'>And does her master chide?</div> + <div class='line in16'>Nay; little Ethel’s music-room</div> + <div class='line in16'>Is mid the sunny garden’s bloom,</div> + <div class='line in18'>Her roof the branches wide.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in10'>With parted lips she stands</div> + <div class='line in10'>Among the flowers alone.</div> + <div class='line in8'>Her teacher—hark! again he sings!</div> + <div class='line in8'>A stir—a flash of startled wings—</div> + <div class='line in10'>The little bird has flown!</div> + <div class='line in40'><span class='fss'>MARGARET JOHNSON.</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id022'> +<img src='images/illus032.jpg' alt='“One,| Two,| Buckle| My Shoe.” By Margaret Johnson' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>“One,<br /> Two,<br /> Buckle<br /> My Shoe.”</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Smile on me, Baby, my sweet,</div> + <div class='line'>As I kneel humbly here at your feet.</div> + <div class='line'>My Prince, with no crown for your head,</div> + <div class='line'>But your own sunny tresses instead.</div> + <div class='line'>And your lips and your eyes gravely sweet,</div> + <div class='line'>Smile down on me here at your feet,</div> + <div class='line in14'>Little one.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>VII.—THE SAND-BANK.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>That sand-bank in the pasture was one of the nicest of our playhouses. +There was neither dust nor dirt in it—nothing but +clean, fine sand, with now and then a pebble. It was not high, so there +was no danger of a great mass of sand falling down on us two children.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The sand-bank was not very far from the little brook. Myra and +I would carry pailful after pailful of water from the brook to it, until +we had moistened a large quantity of sand. Sometimes we would +cover our little bare feet with the cool, wet sand, packing it just as +close as we could. Then gently, O, so gently, we would pull our feet +out from under the sand. The little “five-toed caves” as we used to +call them, would show just as plain as could be, where our little feet +had been! We used to catch little toads and put them into those little +damp caves, but they would soon hop out.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to make the nicest pies and cakes and cookies out of that +lovely wet sand. We used to wish our sand-dainties were fit to eat!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Oftentimes, when we were tired of cooking, we would go to work +and lay out a wonderful garden with tiny flower-beds and winding +paths, out of that wet sand. Some of those flower-beds were star-shaped, +some were round as a wheel, and some were square. We +used to gather handfuls of wild-flowers and stick them down in, until +every tiny bed blossomed into pink and blue and white and gold!</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to make sand-preserves out there. The time and the +patience that we used up in filling narrow-necked bottles with sand! +After a bottle was well-filled and shaken down, we would catch up +that bottle and run down to the brook. We would wash the outside +of that bottle until it shone like cut-glass, and then we would pack it +away in a hollow stump that we called our preserve-closet.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to play a game that we called “Hop-scotch” out in the old +sand-bank. In this game, you mark the sand off into rather large +squares. Then hopping along on one foot, you try with your toe to +push a pebble from one square into another.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id023'> +<img src='images/illus034.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>THE SAND-BANK GARDEN.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>VIII.—THE OLD PASTURE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>I used to play a great deal out in the old pasture. It had a clump +of cradle-knolls in it. A cradle-knoll is a little mound of moss.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On these mossy little cradle-knolls, checkerberry leaves and berries +used to grow. How delicious those spicy young checkerberry leaves +tasted! And we hunted those red plums as a cat hunts a mouse!</p> + +<p class='c008'>The pasture had two or three well-beaten paths in it, that the +cows had made by their sober steady tramping back and forth from +the barnyard lane to the growth of little trees and bushes and tender +grass at the back. At sunset-time, two little barefooted girls would +“spat” along those cool smooth winding paths after those cows.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As long as we kept in the paths our little feet were all right. But +sometimes a clump of bright wild-flowers tempted us, and then two +sorry little girls with thistle-prickles in their feet would come limping +back. But out where the tender grasses grew there were no thistles, +and such fun as hide-and-seek used to be among the bushes!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes we could not find the cows very readily; and then we +would climb up on a smutty stump and call, “co’ boss! co’ boss!” until +the woods rang.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the spring, we would go a-maying out in the old pasture, and +O, such great handfuls of the sweet mayflower as we used to bring +home! Later on, we would gather great bunches of sweet-smelling +herbs that grew wild out there, and carry them home to hang up in +the shed-chamber and dry.</p> + +<p class='c008'>If one of my schoolmates had been unkind to me, I would go out +into the old pasture, and there I would plan out for myself a lovely +future wherein I should be <i>very</i> rich and <i>very</i> good to the poor. And +my unkind schoolmate would be one of the humble receivers of my +gifts, and so it would come about that before I got through building +air-castles I would actually feel sorry for the poor schoolmate who +had ill-used me. And then home I would go, singing and skipping!</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id002'> +<img src='images/illus036.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>“CO’ BOSS!! CO’ BOSS!”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>Little Mother Hubbard.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div><a href="music/little_mother_hubbard.mp3" class="x-ebookmaker-drop">Listen</a></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id024'> +<a href='images/little_mother_hubbard.png'><img src='images/illus037.jpg' alt='Little Mother Hubbard. WORDS BY ALBERT H. HARDY. MUSIC BY T. CRAMPTON.' class='ig001' /></a> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>1. Lit-tle Mo-ther Hub-bard sat</div> + <div class='line'>In the park at play, With her gown and point-ed hat All of so-ber</div> + <div class='line'>gray. And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce be-lieved my eyes;</div> + <div class='line'>And she looked so wondrous wise That I scarce believed my eyes.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>2. Pug no long-er frisked a-bout,</div> + <div class='line'>For he felt the loss Of his sup-per and his cake, So was tired and</div> + <div class='line'>cross. And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug;</div> + <div class='line'>And this self-ish lit-tle pug Wished himself up-on his rug.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>3. Mo-ther Hub-bard hur-ried home,</div> + <div class='line'>Say-ing, “Mer-cy me! Pug shall have some frost-ed cake And a cup of</div> + <div class='line'>tea.” But the cake was eat-en up And the nurse had lost his cup;</div> + <div class='line'>But the cake was eat-en up, And the nurse had lost his cup.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figleft id025'> +<img src='images/illus038.jpg' alt='PILLOW·LAND' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>PILLOW·LAND</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in14'>GOOD-NIGHT.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in12'>Suck-a-Thumb,</div> + <div class='line in12'>Bed-time’s come.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Dressed in white,</div> + <div class='line'>Shut eyes tight.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in4'>“Nighty, night!”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>IX.—THE ELM-TREE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>Out in one of the meadows was a big elm-tree. It was very tall, +and in summer it looked like a monster bunch of green plumes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It stood on the bank of our little brook. Right where the old elm +stood, the bank was quite high, six feet almost. The boughs on the +old tree grew very low. I would catch hold of one of those low-hanging +boughs. Then, I would give a little run and jump. Away +out over the bank and over the brook I would swing!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Oftentimes I would take my patchwork out under the old elm. +But soon the patchwork would be on the ground, forgotten, and an +idle little girl would be lying flat on the grass, with her hands clasped +under her head, looking up into the clear blue sky!</p> + +<p class='c008'>I used to make believe that the white clouds were my ships, coming +into harbor under full sail. And I used to make up fine names for +my ships, and O, such splendid cargoes as they would be loaded with, +all for me—their rich young owner—the idle dreamer in the grass!</p> + +<p class='c008'>O, it was such fun to lie there in the midst of funny daisies with +their high white collars, and buttercups with their yellow caps! The +roguish little winds would make them bend over and tickle the rosy +face of the little girl whom the birds and the brook had almost hushed +off to sleep. There would be a soft little touch on my forehead, and +then another on my chin, and yet others on my cheeks. Then I +would open my eyes and laugh at those funny little white and gold +heads, soberly wagging up and down. But once I was rather frightened +out under the old elm. I had been lying flat on my back for an +hour or two, when I was called. I half raised myself up and answered. +My hand was on the ground just where I had been lying. I felt +something squirming around my thumb. It was a tiny brown snake! +Of course, it was as harmless as a fly, but didn’t I spring to my feet!</p> + +<p class='c008'>When I had to recite a little piece in school or at a church concert, +I always used to rehearse that little piece out under the old elm, over +and over again.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id026'> +<img src='images/illus040.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>SWINGING ON THE ELM-TREE BOUGH.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>Puggie in Disgrace.</i></h2> +</div> + +<div class='c005'> + <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus041.jpg' width='64' alt='' /> +</div><p class='drop-capi_8'></p> +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='c011'>C</span>hild-ren, just look at this queer little Pug,</div> + <div class='line'>His small wrin-kled nose, his little black mug!</div> + <div class='line'>I fear he’s been naugh-ty at les-sons to-day,</div> + <div class='line'>And, like naugh-ty child-ren, he’s pun-ished this way.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>He sits on the stool of re-pent-ance, you see;</div> + <div class='line'>Poor Pug-gie is gen-tle and meek as can be;</div> + <div class='line'>But when at his les-sons he just took a nap,</div> + <div class='line'>And that is the rea-son he wears the Fool’s cap.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>His neck has an or-na-ment, not like his head,</div> + <div class='line'>But a beau-ti-ful lock-et and rib-bon in-stead;</div> + <div class='line'>So you see that to some one the dog-gie is dear,</div> + <div class='line'>Al-though they all tease him I very much fear.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>From Ho-race, the eld-est, to lit-tle Miss May,</div> + <div class='line'>All in-sist that Poor Pug-gie should join in their play;</div> + <div class='line'>Some-times they pet him, and some-times they tease,</div> + <div class='line'>But he bears it all pa-tient-ly, eager to please.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>He rolls his big eyes, or just heaves a sigh,</div> + <div class='line'>And thinks they’ll make up for it all by and by.</div> + <div class='line'>For Pug-gie is greed-y, and bears a great deal</div> + <div class='line'>For the sake of some cakes or a good heart-y meal.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>But though he <i>is</i> greed-y, his faults are but few,</div> + <div class='line'>He is lov-ing and hon-est, de-vo-ted and true.</div> + <div class='line'>If our two-foot-ed friends were as faith-ful as he</div> + <div class='line'>Ve-ry for-tu-nate peo-ple I think we should be.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id027'> +<img src='images/illus042.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>TIC-TAC-TOO.</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Tic-tac-too was a little boy; he was exactly three years old, and the +youngest in the family; so, of course, he was the king. His real name +was Alec; but he was always known in the household, and among his +wide circle of friends generally, as Tic-tac-too. There was a little story to +account for this, and it is that story which I am now going to tell.</p> + +<div class='figleft id028'> +<img src='images/illus043.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>There are very few children who do not know the funny old nursery rhyme +of “Tic-tac-too;” it is an old-fashioned rhyme, and in great vogue amongst +nurses. Of course Alec enjoyed it, and liked to have his toes pulled, and the +queer words said to him. But that is not the story; for it is one thing to like +a nursery rhyme very much, and another to be +called by the name of that rhyme, and nothing +else.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Now, please, listen to the story.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was no nicer house to live in than +Daisy Farm: it was old-fashioned and roomy; +there were heaps of small bedrooms +with low ceilings, and heaps +of long passages, and unexpected +turnings, and dear little cosey corners; +and there was a large nursery +made out of two or three of +the small rooms thrown together, +and this nursery had casement +windows, and from the windows +the daisies, which gave their name +to the farm, could be seen. They +came up in thousands upon thousands, +and no power of man and scythe combined could keep them down. +The mowing-machine only suppressed them for a day or two; up they started +anew in their snowy dresses, with their modest pink frills and bright yellow +edges.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mr. Rogers, who owned Daisy Farm, objected to the flowers; but his +children delighted in them, and picked them in baskets-full, and made daisy-chains +to their hearts’ content. There were several children who lived in this +pleasant farmhouse, for Tic-tac-too had many brothers and sisters. The old-fashioned +nursery was all that a modern nursery should be; it had deep cupboards +for toys, and each child had his or her wide shelf to keep special +treasures on; and the window-ledges were cosey places to curl up in on wet +days, when the rain beat outside, and the wind sighed, and +even the daisies looked as if they did not like to be washed +so much.</p> + +<div class='figright id029'> +<img src='images/illus044a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Some of the children at Daisy Farm were old enough to +have governesses and masters, to have a schoolroom for +themselves, and, in short, to have very little to say to the +nursery; but still there were four nursery little ones; and one +day mother electrified the children by telling them that +another little boy was coming to pay them a visit.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“He is coming to-morrow,” said mother; “he is a year +younger than Alec here, but his mother has asked us to take +care of him. You must all be kind to the little baby +stranger, children, and try your very best to make him feel at +home. Poor little man, I trust he will be happy with us.”</p> + +<div class='figleft id030'> +<img src='images/illus044b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Mother sighed as she spoke; and when she did this, Rosie, the eldest +nursery child, looked up at her quickly. Rosie had dark gray eyes, and a very +sympathetic face; she was the kind of child who +felt everybody’s troubles, and nurse said she did +this far more than was good for her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The moment her mother left the room, Rosie +ran up to her nurse, and spoke eagerly—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why did mother sigh when she said a new +little boy was coming here, nursie?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, my love, how can I tell? People sigh +most likely from habit, and from no reason whatever. +There’s nothing to fret anybody in a sigh, +Miss Rosie.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But mother doesn’t sigh from habit,” answered Rosie; “I expect there’s +going to be something sad about the new little boy, and I wonder what it is. +Harry, shall we collect some of our very nicest toys to have ready for the poor +little new boy?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Harry was six; he had a determined face, and was not so generous as +Rosie.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’ll not give away my skin-horse,” he said, “so you needn’t think it, nor +my white dog with the joints; there are some broken things down in that +corner that he can have. But I don’t see why a new baby should have my +best toys. Gee-up, Alec! you’re a horse, you know, and I’m going to race +you from one end of the nursery to the other—now trot!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fat little curly-headed Alec started off good-humoredly, and Rosie surveyed +her own shelf to see which toys would most distract the attention of +the little stranger.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She was standing on a hassock, and counting her treasures over carefully, +when she was startled by a loud exclamation from nurse.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Mercy me! If that ain’t the telegraph boy coming up the drive!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nurse was old-fashioned enough still to regard telegrams with apprehension. +She often said she could never look at one of those awful yellow +envelopes, without her heart jumping into her mouth; and these fears she had, +to a certain extent, infected the children with.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Harry dropped Alec’s reins, and rushed to the window; Rosie forgot +her toys, and did likewise; Jack and Alec both pressed for a view from +behind.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Me, me, me, me want to see!” screamed baby Alec from the back.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nurse lifted him into her arms; as she did so, she murmured under her +breath,—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“God preserve us! I hope that awful boy isn’t bringing us anything bad.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Rosie heard the words, and felt a sudden sense of chill and anxiety; she +pressed her little hand into nurse’s, and longed more than ever to give all the +nicest toys to the new little boy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Just then the nursery door was opened, and Kate, the housemaid, appeared, +carrying the yellow envelope daintily between her finger and thumb.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“There, nurse,” she said, “it’s for you; and I hope, I’m sure, it’s no ill-luck +I’m bringing you.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, sake’s alive!” said nurse. “Children, dears, let me sit down. +That awful boy to bring it to me! Well, the will of the Lord must be done; +whatever’s inside this ugly thing? Miss Rosie, my dear, could you hunt +round somewhere for my spectacles?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>It always took a long time to find nurse’s spectacles; and Rosie, after +a frantic search, in which she was joined by all the other nursery children, +discovered them at last at the bottom of Alec’s cot. She rushed with them +to the old woman, who put them on her nose, and began deliberately to read +the contents of her telegram.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The children stood round her as she did so. They were all breathless +and excited; and Rosie looked absolutely white from anxiety.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well, my dears,” said nurse at last, when she had spelt through the +words, “it ain’t exactly a trouble; far from me to say that; but all the same, +it’s mighty contrary, and a new child coming here, and all.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What is it, nurse?” said Harry. “<i>Do</i> tell us what it’s all about.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It’s my daughter, dears,” said nurse; “she’ll be in London to-morrow, on +her way back to America.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, nurse!” said Rosie, “not your daughter Ann?”</p> + +<div class='figright id031'> +<img src='images/illus046.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>“The same, my love; she that has eight children, and four of them with +carrotty hair. She wants me to go up to London, +to see her to-morrow; that’s the news the +telegraph boy has brought, Miss Rosie. My +daughter Ann says, ‘Mother, meet me to-morrow +at aunt’s, at two o’clock.’ Well, well, it’s mighty +contrary; and that new child coming, and all!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But you’ll have to go, nurse. It would be +dreadful for your daughter Ann not to see you again.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, dear, that’s all very fine; but what’s to become +of all you children? How is this blessed baby to get on +without his old Nan?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, nurse, you <i>must</i> go! It would be so cruel if +you didn’t,” exclaimed Rosie.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nurse sat thinking hard for a minute or two; then saying she would go +and consult her mistress, she left the room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The upshot of all this was, that at an early hour the following morning +nurse started for London, and a girl, of the name of Patience, from the village, +came up to take her place in the nursery.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Rogers was particularly busy during these days. She had some +friends staying with her, and in addition to this her eldest daughter, Ethel, +was ill, and took up a good deal of her mother’s time; in consequence of +these things the nursery children were left entirely to the tender mercies of +Patience.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Not that that mattered much, for they were independent children, and +always found their own amusements. The first day of nurse’s absence, too, +was fine, and they spent the greater part of it in the open air; but the second +day was wet—a hopelessly wet day—a dull day with a drizzling fog, and no +prospect whatever of clearing up.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The morning’s post brought a letter from nurse to ask for further leave of +absence; and this, in itself, would have depressed the spirits of the nursery +children, for they were looking forward to a gay supper with her, and a +long talk about her daughter Ann, and all her London adventures.</p> + +<div class='figleft id032'> +<img src='images/illus047.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>But this was not the real +trouble which pressed so heavily +on Rosie’s motherly heart; the +real anxiety which made her little +face look so careworn was caused +by the new baby, the little boy of +two years old, who had arrived +late the night before, and now sat +with a shadow on his face, absolutely +refusing to make friends +with any one.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He must have been a petted +little boy at home, for he was +beautifully dressed, and his curly +hair was nicely cared for, and his +fair face had a delicate peach +bloom about it; but if he was +petted, he was also, perhaps, +spoilt, for he certainly would not +make advances to any of his new +comrades, nor exert himself to be agreeable, nor to overcome the strangeness +which was filling his baby mind. Had nurse been at home, she would have +known how to manage; she would have coaxed smiles from little Fred, and +taken him up in her arms, and “mothered” him a good bit. Babies of two +require a great lot of “mothering,” and it is surprising what desolation fills +their little souls when it is denied them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred cried while Patience was dressing him; he got almost into a passion +when she washed his face, and he sulked over his breakfast. Patience was +not at all the sort of girl to manage a child like Fred; she was rough in every +sense of the word; and when rough petting failed, she tried the effect of +rough scolding.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Come, baby, come, you <i>must</i> eat your bread and milk. No nonsense +now, open your mouth and gobble it down. Come, come, I’ll slap you if you +don’t.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>But baby Fred, though sorrowful, was not a coward; he pushed the bowl +of bread and milk away, upset its contents over the clean tablecloth, and +raised two sorrowful big eyes to the new nurse’s face.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Naughty dirl, do away,” he said; “Fred don’t ’ove ’oo. Fred won’t +eat bekfus’.”</p> + +<div class='figright id033'> +<img src='images/illus048.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, Miss Rosie, what +a handful he is!” said +Patience.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Let me try him!” +said Rosie; “I’ll make him +eat something. Come Freddy +darling, you love Rosie, +don’t you?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, I don’t,” said Fred.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well, you’ll eat some breakfast; come now.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I won’t eat none bekfus’—do away.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Rosie turned round and looked in a despairing way at +her own three brothers.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If only nurse were at home!” she said.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Master Fred,” said Patience, “if you won’t eat, you must get down from +the breakfast-table. I have got to clear up, you know.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>She popped the little boy on the floor. He looked round in a bewildered +fashion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Let’s have a very exciting kind of play, and perhaps he’ll join in,” said +Rosie, in a whisper. “Let’s play at kittens—that’s the loveliest of all our +games.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Kittens” was by no means a quiet pastime. It consisted, indeed, in wild +romps on all-fours, each child assuming for the time the character of a kitten, +and jumping after balls of paper, which they caught in their mouths.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It’s the happiest of all our games, and perhaps he’ll like it,” said Rosie.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Patie,” said Alec, going up to the new nurse, “does ’oo know <i>Tic-tac-too</i>?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Of course I do, master Baby—a silly game that.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I ’ike it,” said little Alec.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He tripped across the nursery to the younger baby, and sat down by his +side.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Take off ’oo shoe,” he said.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred was very tired of being cross and miserable. He could not say he +was too little to Alec, for Alec was scarcely bigger than himself. Besides he +understood about taking off his shoe. It was a performance he particularly +liked. He looked at Baby Alec, and obeyed him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Take off ’oo other shoe,” said Alec.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred did so.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Pull off ’oo ’tocks,” ordered the eldest baby.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred absolutely chuckled as he tugged away at his white socks, and +revealed his pink toes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now, come to Patie.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Fred scrambled to his feet, and holding Alec’s hand, trotted down the long +nursery.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Patie,” said Alec, “take F’ed on ’our lap, and play <i>Tic-tac-too</i> for +him?”</p> + +<div class='figright id034'> +<img src='images/illus049.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Patience was busy sewing; she +raised her eyes. Two smiling little +baby-boys were standing by her knee. +Could this child, whose blue eyes were +full of sunshine, be the miserable little +Fred?</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well, master Alec,” she said, kissing +the older baby, “you’re a perfect +little darling. Well, I never! to think +of you finding out a way to please that +poor child.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Tic-tac-too!” said Fred, in a loud +and vigorous voice. He was fast getting +over his shyness, and Alec’s game +suited him to perfection.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But the little stranger did <i>not</i> like the game of kittens. He marched in a +fat, solid sort of way across the nursery, and sat down in a corner, with his +back to the company. Here he really looked a most dismal little figure. The +view of his back was heart-rending; his curly head drooped slightly, forlornness +was written all over his little person.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What a little muff he is!” said Harry; “I’m glad I didn’t give my skin +horse to him.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, don’t,” said Rosie, “can’t you see he’s unhappy? I must go and +speak to him. Fred,” she said, going up to the child, “come and play with +Alec and me.”</p> + +<div class='figcenter id035'> +<img src='images/illus050.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>“No,” said Fred, “I’se too little to p’ay.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But we’ll have such an easy play, Fred. <i>Do</i> come; I wish you would.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’se too little,” answered Fred, shaking his head again.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At that moment Rosie and her two elder brothers were called out of the +room to their morning lessons. Rosie’s heart ached as she went away.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Something must be done,” she said to herself. “That new little boy-baby +will get quite ill if we can’t think of something to please him soon.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>She did not know that a very unexpected little deliverer was at hand. The +two babies were now alone in the nursery, and Patience, having finished her +tidying up, sat down to her sewing.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Patience lifted him on her lap, popped him down with a bounce, kissed +him, and began,—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Tic, tac, too,</div> + <div class='line'>The little horse has lost his shoe,</div> + <div class='line'>Here a nail, and there a nail,</div> + <div class='line'>Here a nail, and there a nail,</div> + <div class='line in16'>Tic, tac, too!”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>When the other children returned to the nursery, they heard peals of +merry baby laughter; and this was the fashion in which a little boy won his +name.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>X.—THE PASTURE FENCE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>We used to play a great deal about the pasture fence. It was a +high rail fence and we used to take a little pole in both hands +as a balancing pole, and run along on the top. Carefully we balanced +ourselves as we ran! But finally we would tip first one way and then +the other, and then, with a little laughing scream, off we’d topple!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes we would put a board through the fence and have a fine +time at “seesaw.” Up one of us would go, high in the air, and down +would go the other with a thud!</p> + +<p class='c008'>We used to play that the pasture fence was a huge cupboard. +Each rail was a shelf. Many of those rail-shelves were loaded down +with bits of broken dishes, shining pebbles, bits of green moss that we +called “pincushions,” and white clam-shells full of strawberries, or +raspberries, or little dark juicy choke-cherries. The contents of the +clam-shells were for the birds. If we found a clam-shell lying on the +ground, we believed with all our little hearts that a little winged +creature had been fed from our cupboard.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes we would carry on a thriving millinery store out at the +pasture fence. We would make queer little bonnets out of birch-bark. +Then we would sew wildflowers on the bonnets and lay them on the +rails of the fence for sale. Such a number of those funny little bonnets +as would be on exhibition on our rail-counters!</p> + +<p class='c008'>One of the big upright posts of our rail fence was hollow a little +way down. One day we found on the ground a nest full of birdlings; +one of them was dead, and a little green snake had almost reached the +nest. The mother-bird was flying about crying pitifully. I snatched +the nest away and carried it O, so carefully to the pasture fence and +put it down in the hollow of the fence-post. Then we went a bit +away and waited. Pretty soon there was a little rush of wings; and +soon the mother-bird settled down in that hollow post just as cunning +as could be. And that dear little family staid in that hollow post +until the baby-birds grew up and flew away.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>LULU’S FIRST THANKSGIVING.</h2> +</div> +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Lulu was six years old last spring. She came to make a visit +at her grandfather’s, and stayed until after Thanksgiving.</p> + +<div class='figcenter id022'> +<img src='images/illus053.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>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’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> + +<p class='c008'>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’s. It did not take +them long to get acquainted. Before time for dinner they felt as if +they had always known each other.</p> + +<div class='figright id036'> +<img src='images/illus054.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>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> + +<p class='c008'>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 class='c008'>After dinner they played +all kinds of games. All the uncles and aunts and grown-up cousins +played blind-man’s-buff with them.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>XI.—OUR RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>We had a number of rainy-day playhouses. When it did not +rain very hard, Myra and I would scamper out to our little +playhouse made of boards, and listen to the patter of the drops.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was not a very costly playhouse. It was built in a corner made +by the shed and the orchard fence. One side of our playhouse was +the shed. Another side was the fence; this open side we used to call +our bay-window. A creeping hop vine twined around the rough +fence-boards and made a green lace curtain for our bay-window. +The third side was made of boards. Across this side stretched the +wide board seat, which was the only furniture of our playhouse. The +fourth, or front side of the playhouse consisted mostly of a “double-door,” +of which we were very proud. This double-door was two large +green blinds. Did not we feel like truly little housekeepers when we +fastened those two blinds together with a snap!</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the rain came down in gentle showers we used to go out to +the little playhouse and have a concert. First Myra would step up on +to that wide board seat and recite a little piece. Then I would step +up on to the seat and sing a little song. Perhaps while I was singing +a robin in the orchard would begin to sing, O, so loud and sweet that +all the orchard just rang with that sweet music! We would stop our +concert and listen to the robin. When he had finished, we used to clap +our little hands. And all the time the rain kept up a fairy “tinkle, +tinkle,” as if some one was keeping time for us on a tiny piano.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Spat-t! Spat-t! would come the little drops through a tiny hole in +the roof of our little house. We used to hold our faces up towards +that little leak in the roof. Oftentimes a drop would strike us fairly +on the tip of our small noses! Then how we would laugh!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes we would take hold of hands and repeat together, over +and over again: “Rain, rain, go away, come again, another day!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>And if we said those words long enough, the rain would go away!</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id004'> +<img src='images/illus056.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>THE RAINY-DAY PLAYHOUSE.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c006'>XII.—THE WHOLE WHITE WORLD.</h3> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c007'>In winter we played everywhere! The whole white world was a +lovely playground! We had no skates, but we wore very thick-soled +boots that took the place of skates very well. At least we +thought so, and that was all we needed to make us contented. When +the little pond was frozen over, we would take a quick run down its +snowy banks and then we would skim clear across that little pond’s +frozen surface just as swift as a bird would skim through the air.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes a thick frost would come in the night-time. The next +morning a fine blue haze would be in the air and everything would be +clothed in soft white frost-furs. As the sun rose higher and higher +we would watch to see the trees and bushes grow warm in the sunshine +and throw off their furs. Then we would try and catch those +soft furs as they fell. But if caught they melted quickly away.</p> + +<p class='c008'>If the surface of the snow hardened enough so that we could walk +on the crust without breaking through, our happiness was complete. +High hills were all about us, and it seemed to us as if every shining +hill would say if it could, “Come and slide!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>And O, the happy hours that we have had with our clumsy old +sled! Away we would go, the wind stinging our faces until crimson +roses blossomed in our cheeks, and the shining crust snapping and +creaking under our sled, and the hill flying away behind us!</p> + +<p class='c008'>If a damp clinging snow came, it made lovely snowballs; and it was +such fun to catch hold of the long clothes-lines and shake them and +see little clumps of snow hop like rabbits from the line into the air.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And if instead of warmth, and great damp feathery snowflakes, +there came a bitter wind and an icy sleet that froze as it fell—what +then? Never mind! Sunrise would set the whole world a-sparkle. +Every tree and bush would be gay with splendid ice-jewels! And in +the great shining ice palace, we could run and laugh and shout, watching +the ice-jewels loosen and fall, all day long.</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Percia V. White.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id037'> +<img src='images/illus058.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>“AWAY WE WOULD GO!”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id038'> +<img src='images/illus059a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'><i>GRAN’MA GRACIE.</i></h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='c005'> + <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus059b.jpg' width='145' alt='' /> +</div><p class='drop-capi_8'> +It was Uncle George who called her “Gran’ma” when she +was only six, and by the time she was seven everybody had +taken to the name, and she answered to it as a matter of +course.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Why did he call her so? Because she was such a prim, +staid, serious, little old-fashioned body, and consequently +her mother laughingly took to dressing her in an old-fashioned +way, so that at last, whether she was out in the +grounds, or round by the stables with Grant, in her figured +pink dress, red sash, long gloves, and sun-bonnet, looking after her pets, or +indoors of an evening, in her yellow brocade, muslin apron—with pockets, of +course, and quaint mob cap tied up with its ribbon—she always looked serious +and grandmotherly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is her nature to,” Uncle George said, quoting from “Let dogs +delight;” and when he laughed at her, Gran’ma used to look at him wonderingly +in the most quaint way, and then put her hand in his, and ask him to +take her for a walk.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Gran’ma lived in a roomy old house with a delightful garden, surrounded +by a very high red-brick wall that was covered in the spring with white blossoms, +and in the autumn with peaches with red cheeks that laughed at her and +imitated hers; purple plums covered with bloom, and other plums that looked +like drops of gold among the green leaves; and these used to get so ripe and +juicy in the hot sun, that they would crack and peer out at her as if asking to +be eaten before they fell down and wasted their rich honey juice on the ground. +Then there were great lumbering looking pears which worried John, the gardener, +because they grew so heavy that they tore the nails out of the walls, and +had to be fastened up again—old John giving Gran’ma the shreds to hold +while he went up the ladder with his hammer, and a nail in his mouth.</p> + +<p class='c008'>That garden was Gran’ma’s world, it was so big; and on fine mornings she +could be seen seriously wandering about with Dinnywinkle, her little sister, up +this way, down that, under the apple-trees, along the gooseberry and currant +alleys, teaching her and Grant that it was not proper to go on the beds when +there were plenty of paths, and somehow Dinnywinkle, who was always +bubbling over with fun, did as the serious little thing told her in the most obedient +of ways, and helped her to scold Grant, who was much harder to teach.</p> + +<div class='figright id039'> +<img src='images/illus060.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>For Grant, whose papa was a setter, and mamma a very lady-like retriever, +always had ideas in his head that there were wild +beasts hiding in the big garden, and as soon as his +collar was unfastened, and he was taken down the +grounds for a run, he seemed to run +mad. His ears went up, his tail began +to wave, and he dashed about frantically +to hunt for those imaginary wild +beasts. He barked till he was hoarse +sometimes, when after a good deal of +rushing about he made a discovery, and +would then look up triumphantly at +Gran’ma, and point at his find with his +nose, till she came up to see what he +had discovered. One time it would be +a snail, at another a dead mouse killed +by the cat, and not eaten because it was +a shrew. Upon one occasion, when +the children ran up, it was to find the +dog half wild as he barked to them to come and see what he was holding +down under his paw,—this proving to be an unfortunate frog which uttered +a dismal squeal from time to time till Gran’ma set it at liberty, so that it could +make long hops into a bed of ivy, where it lived happily long afterwards, to +sit there on soft wet nights under a big leaf like an umbrella, and softly whistle +the frog song which ends every now and then in a croak.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Grant was always obedient when he was caught, and then he would walk +steadily along between Gran’ma and Dinny, each holding one of his long silky +ears, with the prisoner making no effort to escape.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But the job was to catch him; and on these occasions Gran’ma used to run +and run fast, while Dinny ran in another direction to cut Grant off.</p> + +<div class='figleft id040'> +<img src='images/illus061.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>And a pretty chase he led them, letting them get close up, and then giving +a joyous bark and leaping sidewise, to dash off in quite a fresh direction. +Here he would perhaps hide, crouching down under one of the shrubs, ready +to pounce out on his pursuers, and then dash away again, showing his teeth as +if he were laughing, and in his frantic delight waltzing round and round after +his tail. Then away he would bound on to the closely shaven lawn, throw +himself down, roll over and over, and set Dinny laughing and clapping her +hands to see him play one of his favorite tricks, which was to lay his nose +down close to the grass, first on one side +and then on the other, pushing it along as +if it was a plough, till he sprang up and +stood barking and wagging his tail, as +much as to say, “What do you think of +that for a game?” ending by running helter-skelter +after a blackbird which flew away, +crying “Chink—chink—chink.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>That was a famous old wilderness of a +place, with great stables and out-houses, +where there was bright golden straw, and +delicious sweet-scented hay, and in one +place a large bin with a lid, and half-full of +oats, with which Gran’ma used to fill a +little cross-handled basket.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now, Grant,” she cried, as she shut +down the lid, after refusing to let Dinny +stand in the bin and pour oats over her head and down her back—“Now, +Grant!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Wuph!” said Grant, and he took hold of the basket in his teeth, and +trotted on with it before her round the corner, to stop before the hutches that +stood outside in the sun.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Here, if Dinny was what Gran’ma called “a good girl,” she had a treat. +For this was where the rabbits lived.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Old Brownsmith sent those rabbits, hutch and all, as a present for Gran’ma, +one day when John went to the market garden with his barrow to fetch what +he called some “plarnts;” and when he came back with the barred hutch, and +set the barrow down in the walk, mamma went out with Gran’ma and Dinny, +to look at them, and Grant came up growling, sniffed all round the hutch before +giving a long loud bark, which, being put into plain English, meant, “Open +the door, and I’ll kill all the lot.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I don’t know what to say, John,” said mamma, shaking her head. “It +is very kind of Mr. Brownsmith, but I don’t think your master will like the +children to keep them, for fear they should be neglected and die.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“’Gleckted?” said old John, rubbing one ear. “What! little miss here +’gleck ’em? Not she. You’ll feed them rabbuds reg’lar, miss, wontcher?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Gran’ma said she would, and the hutch was wheeled round by the stables, +Grant following and looking very much puzzled, for though he never hunted +the cats now, rabbits did seem the right things to kill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Gran’ma soon taught him better, and he became the best of friends +with Brown Downie and her two children, Bunny and White Paws.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In fact, one day there was a scene, for Cook rushed into the schoolroom +during lesson time, out of breath with excitement.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Please’m, I went down the garden, ’m, to get some parsley, and that +horrid dog’s hunting the rabbits, and killing ’em.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was a cry from both children, and Gran’ma rushed out and round to +the stables, to find the hutch door unfastened, and the rabbits gone, while, as +she turned back to the house with the tears running down her cheeks, who +should come trotting up but Grant, with his ears cocked, and Bunny hanging +from his jaws as if dead.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Gran’ma uttered a cry; and as Mamma came up with Dinny, the dog set +the little rabbit down, looked up and barked, and Bunny began loping off to +nibble the flowers, not a bit the worse, while Grant ran and turned him back +with his nose, for Gran’ma to catch the little thing up in her arms.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Grant barked excitedly, and ran down the garden again, the whole party +following, and in five minutes he had caught White Paw.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Dinny had the carrying of this truant, and with another bark, Grant dashed +in among the gooseberry bushes, where there was a great deal of rustling, +a glimpse of something brown, and then of a white cottony tail. Then in +spite of poor Grant getting his nose pricked with the thorns, Brown Downie +was caught and held by her ears till mamma lifted her up, and she was +carried in triumph back, Grant trotting on before, and leading the way to the +stable-yard and the hutch, turning round every now and then to bark.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The rabbits did not get out again, and every morning and evening they were +fed as regularly as Gran’ma fed herself.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On reaching the hutch, Grant set the basket down, leaving the handle rather +wet, though he could easily have wiped it with his ears, and then he sat down +in a dreamy way, half closing his eyes and possibly thinking about wild rabbits +on heaths where he could hunt them through furze bushes, while Gran’ma in +the most serious way possible opened the hutch door.</p> + +<div class='figright id041'> +<img src='images/illus063.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>There was no difficulty about catching White Paw, for he was ready enough +to thrust his nose into +his little mistress’s +hand, and be lifted +out by his ears, and +held for Dinny to +stroke.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now let me take +him,” she cried.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, my dear, you +are too young yet,” +said Gran’ma; and +Dinny had to be content +with smoothing down White Paw’s soft brown fur, as it nestled up +against its mistress’s breast, till it was put back kicking, and evidently longing +to escape from its wooden-barred prison, even if it was to be hunted by Grant.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then Bunny had his turn, and was duly lifted out and smoothed; after +which, Brown Downie, who was too heavy to lift, gave the floor of the hutch a +sharp rap with one foot, making Grant lift his ear and utter a deep sigh.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No,” he must have thought; “it’s very tempting, but I must not seize +her by the back and give her a shake.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then the trough was filled with oats, the door fastened, and the girls looked +on as three noses were twitched and screwed about, and a low munching sound +arose.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Three rabbits and a dog! Enough pets for any girl, my reader; but +Gran’ma had another—Buzz, a round, soft-furred kitten with about as much +fun in it as could be squeezed into so small a body. But Buzz had a temper, +possibly soured by jealousy of Grant, whom he utterly detested.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Buzz’s idea of life was to be always chasing something,—his tail, a shadow, +the corner of the table-cover, or his mistress’s dress. He liked to climb, too, on +to tables, up the legs, into the coal-scuttle, behind the sideboard, and above +all, up the curtains, so as to turn the looped-up part into a hammock, and sleep +there for hours. Anywhere forbidden to a respectable kitten was Buzz’s favorite +spot, and especially inside the fender, where the blue tiles at the back +reflected the warmth of the fire, and the brown tiles of the hearth were so bright +that he could see other kittens in them, and play with them, dabbing at them +with his velvet paw.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Buzz had been dragged out from that forbidden ground by his hind leg, and +by the loose skin at the back of his neck, and he had been punished again and +again, but still he would go, and strange to say, he took a fancy to rub himself +up against the upright brass dogs from the tip of his nose to the end of his +tail, and then repeat it on the other side.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Gran’ma’s pet did not trespass without suffering for it. Both his +whiskers were singed off close, and there was a brown, rough, ill-smelling +bit at the end of his tail where, in turning round, he had swept it amongst the +glowing cinders, giving him so much pain that he uttered a loud “Mee-yow!” +and bounded out of the room, looking up at Gran’ma the while as if he believed +that she had served him like that.</p> + +<div class='figleft id042'> +<img src='images/illus064.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>In Gran’ma’s very small old-fashioned way, one of her regular duties was +to get papa’s blue cloth fur-lined slippers, and put them +against the fender to warm every night, ready for him +when he came back tired from London; and no sooner +were those slippers set down to toast, than Buzz, who +had been watching attentively, went softly from his +cushion where he had been pretending to be asleep, but +watching all the time with one eye, and carefully packed +himself in a slipper, thrusting his nose well down, drawing +his legs right under him, and snoozling up so +compactly that he exactly fitted it, and seemed part of a fur cushion made in +the shape of a shoe.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Buzz was not allowed to enjoy himself in that fashion for long. No +sooner did Gran’ma catch sight of what he had done than she got up, went to +the fireplace, gravely lifted the slipper, and poured Buzz out on to the hearth-rug, +replaced the slipper where it would warm, and went back, to find, five +minutes later, that the kitten had fitted himself into the other slipper, with +only his back visible, ready to be poured out again. Then, in a half-sulky, +cattish way, Buzz would go and seat himself on his square cushion, and watch, +while, to guard them from any more such intrusions, Gran’ma picked up the +slippers and held them to her breast until such time as her father came home.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Those were joyous times at the old house, till one day there was a report +spread in the village that little Gran’ma was ill. The doctor’s carriage was +seen every day at the gate, and then twice a day, and there were sorrow and +despair where all had been so happy. Dinny went alone with Grant to feed +the rabbits; and there were no more joyous rushes round the garden, for the +dog would lie down on the doorstep with his head between his paws, and watch +there all day, and listen for the quiet little footstep that never came. Every +day old John, the gardener, brought up a bunch of flowers for the little child +lying fevered and weak, with nothing that would cool her burning head, and +three anxious faces were constantly gazing for the change that they prayed +might come.</p> + +<p class='c008'>For the place seemed no longer the same without those pattering feet. +Cook had been found crying in a chair in the kitchen; and when asked why, +she said it was because Grant had howled in the night, and she knew now that +dear little Gran’ma would never be seen walking so sedately round the garden +again.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was of no use to tell her that Grant had howled because he was miserable +at not seeing his little mistress: she said she knew better.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Don’t tell me,” she cried; “look at him.” And she pointed to where +the dog had just gone down to the gate, for a carriage had stopped, and the +dog, after meeting the doctor, walked up behind him to the house, waited till +he came out, and then walked down behind him to the gate, saw him go, and +came back to lie down in his old place on the step, with his head between his +paws.</p> + +<p class='c008'>They said that they could not get Grant to eat, and it was quite true, for the +little hands which fed him were not there; and the house was very mournful and +still, even Dinny having ceased to shout and laugh, for they told her she +must be very quiet, because Gran’ma was so ill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>From that hour Dinny went about the place like a mouse, and her favorite +place was on the step by Grant, who, after a time, took to laying his head in +her lap, and gazing up at her with his great brown eyes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And they said that Gran’ma knew no one now, but lay talking quickly +about losing the rabbits and about Dinny and Grant; and then there came a +day when she said nothing, but lay very still as if asleep.</p> + +<div class='figleft id043'> +<img src='images/illus066.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>That night as the doctor was going, he said softly that he could do no more, +but that those who loved the little quiet +child must pray to God to spare her to +them; and that night, too, while tears were +falling fast, and there seemed to be no +hope, Grant, in his loneliness and misery, +did utter a long, low, mournful howl.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But next morning, after a weary night, +those who watched saw the bright glow of +returning day lighting up the eastern sky, +and the sun had not long risen before +Gran’ma woke as if from a long sleep, +looked up in her mother’s eyes as if she +knew her once more, and the great time of +peril was at an end.</p> + +<p class='c008'>All through the worst no hands but her mother’s had touched her; but +now a nurse was brought in to help—a quiet, motherly, North-country woman +who one day stood at the door, and held up her hands in astonishment, for +she had been busy down-stairs for an hour, and now that she had returned +there was a great reception on the bed: Buzz was seated on the pillow purring; +the rabbits all three were playing at the bed being a warren, and loping +in and out from the valance; Grant was seated on a chair with his head close +up to his mistress’s breast; and Dinny was reading aloud from a picture storybook +like this, but the book was upside down, and she invented all she said.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Bless the bairn! what does this mean?” cried nurse.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It meant that Dinny had brought up all Gran’ma’s friends, and that the +poor child was rapidly getting well.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id044'> +<img src='images/illus067.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>The Sunshine Corner</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Miss Myrtle read to the children this afternoon an Account +sent by her married cousin, Mrs. Pingry. Mrs. Pingry wrote: +“I spell it with a big A, just for fun, because it is of so small a matter, +but it was a sunshiny matter for it caused some smiling, and it brought +out real kindness from several persons.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Mr. Pingry goes in on the 8.17 train and attends to his furnace +the last thing, allowing twelve minutes to reach the station. When +about half-way there, yesterday, it occurred to him that he forgot to +shut the drafts. Just then he met Jerry Snow, the man at the Binney +place, and asked him to please call round our way, and ask for Mrs. +Pingry, and say Mr. Pingry had left the drafts open. Jerry said he +would after going to the post-office, but Mr. Pingry, fearing Jerry +might forget, called hastily at the door of Madam Morey, an elderly +woman who does plain sewing, and said he forgot to shut the furnace +drafts; if she should see a boy passing would she ask him to call at +our door, and ask for Mrs. Pingry, and tell her? Madam said she +would be on the lookout for a boy, while doing her baking.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now as Mr. Pingry was hurrying on, it came to him that he had +not yet made a sure thing of it, and at that moment he saw the woman +who does chore-work at the Binney’s, coming by a path across the +field. He met her at the fence, and asked if she would go around by +our house and say to Mrs. Pingry that Mr. Pingry had left the drafts +all open. She agreed, and Mr. Pingry ran to his train, a happy man.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now Madam Morey felt anxious about the furnace, and stepped +often to the window, and at last spied a small boy with a sled, and +finding he knew where we live, told him Mr. Pingry went away and +forgot to shut the furnace drafts and wished to send back word, +and would the boy coast down that way and tell Mrs. Pingry? The +boy promised, and coasted down the hill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Madam Morey still felt uneasy about the furnace, and not being +sure the boy would do the errand kept on the watch for another; and +when the banana-man stopped and made signs at her window ‘would +she buy?’ she wrote a few words on a bit of brown paper and went +with him far enough to point out the house and made signs, ‘would he +leave the paper there?’ He made signs ‘yes?’ and passed on.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now at about half-past eight, our front doorbell rang and I heard +a call for me. I hurried down, and received the chore-woman’s message +and acted upon it at once.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sometime afterwards, as I was in the back-chamber, I heard voices +outside and saw six or eight small boys trying to pull their sleds over +a fence, and wondered how they happened to be coasting in such a +place. Presently I heard a commotion on the other side and went to +the front windows. All the sleds were drawn up near the steps, and +the small boys were stamping around like an army come to take the +house. Seeing me they all shouted something at me. They seemed +so terribly in earnest, and came in such a strange way, that I flew +down, sure something dreadful had happened—perhaps Willy was +drowned! and I began to tremble. At sight of me at the door they +all shouted again, but I did not understand. I caught hold of the biggest +boy and pulled him inside, and said to him, in a low, tremulous +voice, ‘Tell me! What is it?’ He answered, in a bashful way, ‘Mr. +Pingry said he left the drafts open.’ ‘Thank you all!’ I said.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Next, the banana-man, bobbing his head, and making signs, +though I shook my head ‘no.’ Finally up came Bridget with a slip of +brown paper having written on it, but no name signed: ‘Your furnace +drafts are open.’ Such a shout as went up from us!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Grand company coming, I guess! exclaimed my sister, a short +time afterwards. Sure enough there stood a carriage and span. Jerry +Snow, it seems, forgot our furnace until he went to look at his own. +He was then just about to take Mrs. Binney out for an airing. He +mentioned it to her and she had him drive round with the message.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“By this time we were ready to go off, explode, shout, giggle, at +the approach of any one; and when Madam Morey stepped up on our +piazza we bent ourselves double with laughter, and my sister went +down upon the floor all in a heap, saying, ‘Do—you—suppose—she—comes—for +that?’</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Even so. She had worried, thinking the hot pipes might heat +the woodwork, and half-expected to hear the cry of ‘fire!’ and bells +ringing, and could not sit still in her chair, and in the goodness of her +heart she left her work and came all the way over!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh! we had fun with Mr. Pingry that evening. But now, my +dear Miss Myrtle, the funniest part of all was that Mr. Pingry did not +forget to shut the drafts!”</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>Miss Fillissy-Follissy.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'>A SLUMBER SONG.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div><a href="music/a_slumber_song.mp3" class="x-ebookmaker-drop">Listen</a></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id045'> +<a href='images/a_slumber_song.png'><img src='images/illus069.jpg' alt='A SLUMBER SONG. Words by M. H. Music by F. E. S. Softly throughout, but well accented.' class='ig001' /></a> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>1. Sleep, oh sleep, my lambs a-wea-ry! Shin-ing sun-beams all are o’er;</div> + <div class='line'>’Tis the time when lit-tle children Sail a-way to slum-ber shore.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>2. Glid-ing, glid-ing to the mu-sic Of a ten-der, tender lulla-by</div> + <div class='line'>Gent-ly drift the lads and lass-es When the stars come out on high.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>3. Soft-ly to the swaying grass-es Fall the gracious drops of dew;</div> + <div class='line'>Yet more soft-ly at the gloaming Close the bairn-ies’ eyes of blue.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id046'> +<img src='images/illus070.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id047'> +<img src='images/illus071.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>THE GROCER’S BOY.</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>Sammy Swattles wasn’t a bad boy, you understand; he was +simply thoughtless. He thoughtlessly did things which robbed +him of peace of mind for some time after he did them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When Sammy was ten years old he had to leave school, to go to +work for Mr. Greens, the grocer, in order to help support his mother.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He did a great many things for the grocer, from seven o’clock in +the morning till six at night, but his principal work was to place large +paper bags on the scales and fill them with flour from the barrel.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the bag weighed twenty-three pounds, Sammy had to seal +it up and take it to the family it was ordered for. The grocer allowed +him two cents for every bag he carried, over and above his wages, +which were $2.50 per week. Some weeks Sammy made over $3.00 +which helped his mother to run their little house quite comfortably.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Now, Sammy, in his thoughtlessness, used to sample quite a good +deal of the grocer’s preserved ginger. Every time he would pass the +tin boxes of ginger, he would thoughtlessly take a piece, and it would +disappear in the recesses of Sammy’s rosy mouth.</p> + +<p class='c008'>One night, after he had locked up all but the front door of the store, +he helped himself to quite a large piece of the ginger, and walked +home.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He did not care for any supper that night. He felt as if bed was +the best place for his troubled little stomach.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He hadn’t been in bed two minutes when a little fierce man, with a +white cloth round his black body and a huge grin on his ebony face, +bounded into his room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>With a scream Sammy leaped out of bed and bounded out of the +window. With a yell the Indian was after him. Sammy flew down +the road like a runaway colt, the black man in his rear yelling like +thunder and lions. Sammy never ran so fast in his life, but the little +black man gained on him, and finally caught him!</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sammy pleaded hard to be spared to his mother, but the little man +grimly took him by the collar, and with one leap landed him on the +island of Ceylon, in the Indian Ocean, at a place called Kandy. Then +he led Sammy out into the country, and blew a whistle. In an instant +they were surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of men, women and +boys, all as black as Sammy’s captor. Sammy cried:</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What have I done! what have I done!” and they all cried:</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You have taken the ginger that we have gathered by hard work, +without permission, and you are condemned to live here for the rest +of your life on ginger alone!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then Sammy began to cry real hard, for he thought of his poor +mother, off there in Massachusetts, wondering day after day, “What +has become of my Sammy!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>And then to be compelled to eat nothing but ginger all his life! +It was awful! He already hated ginger. He looked so woebegone +that they all cried:</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If you will promise to be good, and think before you do things, +we will let you go! But if you don’t keep your promise we’ll get you +again, and then, look out!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>So Sammy promised, and ran for home. But the black people +seemed to regret having let him off so easily, and they all came trooping +after him!</p> + +<p class='c008'>You should have seen Sammy run! He went over through India, +and across Afghanistan, Persia and Turkey like a streak of lightning! +He plunged into the Mediterranean and swam across to Italy. +From Italy he swam to Spain; and across Spain, from Tarragona to +Cape Finisterre, he ran like the Rapids of the River St. Lawrence, the +black people at his heels!</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was almost exhausted as he dove off Cape Finisterre into the +broad Atlantic, and he would have sunk down deep, for fifteen or +twenty miles, if a friendly dolphin hadn’t come along and invited him +to ride on its shiny back!</p> + +<p class='c008'>The black men gave up the chase then, and the dolphin swam over +to Massachusetts Bay, up Boston Harbor, to the Charles River, to the +bridge by Sammy’s home. There the dolphin said good-by, told +Sammy to always be a good boy, and then, with a flip of its tail, it +rushed down the river—and Sammy awoke!</p> + +<p class='c008'>It had all been a dream, of course; but it cured Sammy of thoughtlesness, +and nobody ever had cause again to say that Sammy Swattles +wasn’t all a nice little boy should be. He told his employer all about +it, and his employer said: “Well, be a good boy, and never do anything +without thinking of whether it’s right or wrong to do it.”</p> + +<div class='lg-container-r'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='small'><i>John Ernest McCann.</i></span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><span class='sc'>An Absent-minded Man.</span></h2> +</div> + +<div class='figleft id048'> +<img src='images/illus073a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figright id049'> +<img src='images/illus073e.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='large'>H</span>e lit a candle for young Ted.</div> + <div class='line'>This absent minded man.</div> + <div class='line'>—Twas time to send the boy to bed—</div> + <div class='line'>But something else came in his head,</div> + <div class='line in4'>Some problem or some plan.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id050'> +<img src='images/illus073b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='large'>H</span>is thoughts were miles and miles away,</div> + <div class='line'>But still the taper there,</div> + <div class='line'>While he was thinking, seemed to say,</div> + <div class='line'>“Bed! Bed! I’ll burn out if I stay!”</div> + <div class='line in4'>And scolded with its glare.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id051'> +<img src='images/illus073c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='large'>A</span>nd so he took Ted’s candle light</div> + <div class='line'>—Ted grinned, the little elf—</div> + <div class='line'>And bade, with manner most polite,</div> + <div class='line'>His son a very sweet good-night,</div> + <div class='line in4'>And went to bed himself.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id052'> +<img src='images/illus073d.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id053'> +<img src='images/illus074a.jpg' alt='Good King Grin. KING GRIN PRINCE LAUGH' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>Good King Grin.</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='figleft id054'> +<img src='images/illus074b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>THE JESTER.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='large'>T</span>here is a King in Nonsense Land</div> + <div class='line'>Whose castle, neither tall nor grand,</div> + <div class='line'>Is gaily perched upon a hill</div> + <div class='line'>Behind the town of Jolliville.</div> + <div class='line'>A spangled jester lets you in—</div> + <div class='line'>Whoever calls on good King Grin.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figright id054'> +<img src='images/illus074c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>“QUITE BALD.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>His height in feet is only four;</div> + <div class='line'>Around his waist is one foot more;</div> + <div class='line'>His mouth is wide; his eyes are twinkles</div> + <div class='line'>Half hidden in a net of wrinkles;</div> + <div class='line'>His beard is red; his hair is thin—</div> + <div class='line'>In fact, quite bald is good King Grin.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figleft id055'> +<img src='images/illus074d.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic004'> +<p>PRINCESS GIGGLE.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>His family—beneath the sun</div> + <div class='line'>You never saw a happier one:</div> + <div class='line'>The good Queen Smile, so fair to see;</div> + <div class='line'>Prince Laugh, the heir-apparent he;</div> + <div class='line'>And Princess Giggle’s baby din—</div> + <div class='line'>Is life and joy to good King Grin.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Three ministers of state has he:</div> + <div class='line'>Prime Minister is Pleasantry;</div> + <div class='line'>In Foreign Matters, great and small,</div> + <div class='line'>Good-Nature ministers to all;</div> + <div class='line'>And Cheerfulness, when bills come in,</div> + <div class='line'>Is Treasurer to good King Grin.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id056'> +<img src='images/illus075a.jpg' alt='Ministers of State' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c012'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>His courser is a palfry stout,</div> + <div class='line'>And when the good king rides about,</div> + <div class='line'>The very babies crow for joy:</div> + <div class='line'>From peasant-man and peasant-boy,</div> + <div class='line'>From landed knight and all his kin,</div> + <div class='line'>Arise one cry: “Long live King Grin.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id057'> +<img src='images/illus075b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +<div class='ic057'> +<p><span class='small'><i>Ralph Bergengren.</i></span></p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c004'><i>A Funny Twin Brother</i></h2> +</div> + +<div class='c005'> + <img class='drop-capi' src='images/illus076.jpg' width='113' alt='' /> +</div><p class='drop-capi_8'> +Last sum-mer when we were in the coun-try +hav-ing a hap-py ho-li-day, we of-ten went +in-to the hay-field, and you lit-tle ones may +fan-cy the fun we had. John-ny and Lil-ly +rolled in the sweet fresh hay, and were +bu-ried and came up a-gain ma-ny and +ma-ny a time; and just when we thought there was not +a bit of chub-by child to be seen, a round red laugh-ing +face would peep out, fol-lowed by a sort of wind-mill of +arms and legs.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was on a bright sum-mer’s day in that hay-field that +we met Tim and his lit-tle mis-tress. “Who was Tim?” +you say. Well, Tim was a don-key, and such a hap-py +pet-ted don-key has sel-dom been seen be-fore. Liz-zy—the +lit-tle girl you see in the pic-ture—was the far-mer’s +daugh-ter, and as she led Tim round her fa-ther’s field, +she picked up the sweet hay and fed him with it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When Tim and lit-tle Liz-zy came near us, we all went +up to pat the don-key: then the lit-tle girl told us how +good and gen-tle her Tim was. “We are very luc-ky to +have such a good don-key,” said she.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And I think he is luc-ky to have such a good lit-tle +mis-tress,” said I.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, but he be-longs to us all,” an-swered the child, +“and there are six of us; we all feed and pet him. My +father bought him when he was quite lit-tle. He is five +years old now; just the same age as my lit-tle bro-ther +Willy. So he is his Twin Bro-ther you see,” ad-ded +Liz-zy grave-ly.</p> + +<div class='figcenter id058'> +<img src='images/illus077.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + +<div class='figcenter id044'> +<img src='images/illus079a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> +<div> + <h2 class='c004'>Sam on the kitchen funnel blew</h2> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='figright id059'> +<img src='images/illus079b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c010'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Sam on the kitchen funnel blew,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>The dinner-bell Jane rang;</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The bellows made a nice guitar,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>Min played while Alice sang.</span></div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Tom came to hear us, Tabby too,</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>Who brought her kittens three;</span></div> + <div class='line'><span class='sc'>And also Flora with her pup;</span></div> + <div class='line in2'><span class='sc'>We let them all in—free!</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id044'> +<img src='images/illus079c.jpg' alt='_S Birch_' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id060'> +<img src='images/illus080.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c002'> + <div>TO</div> + <div>WEE PEOPLE</div> + <div>WHO MAKE HOME</div> + <div>HAPPY WITH ARTLESS</div> + <div>PRATTLE AND MERRY</div> + <div>PLAY, THIS BOOK IS</div> + <div>LOVINGLY</div> + <div>DEDICATED.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c013' /> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='section ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c003'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + + <ol class='ol_1 c002'> + <li>Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. + + </li> + <li>Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. + </li> + </ol> + +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR LITTLE TOT’S OWN BOOK ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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