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diff --git a/11374-h/11374-h.htm b/11374-h/11374-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f0619d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/11374-h/11374-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1484 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fun And Frolic, by Various</title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; } + margin-top: { 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 100%; font-size: 8pt; justify: right;} /* page numbers */ + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + // --> + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11374 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Fun And Frolic, by Various, Edited by E. T. +Roe</h1> +<br /> +<br /> +<center><b>E-text prepared by The Internet Archive Children's Library,<br /> + Christine Gehring, Garrett Alley,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</b></center> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr class="full" /> +<br /> +<br /> +<table border=0 width="100%"> +<tr> +<td width="260"> +<img src="images/001.png" alt="Front Cover"> +</td> +<td width="*"> +<h1>FUN AND FROLIC</h1><br> + +<center> +<img src="images/005.png" alt=""> +</center> + +<h4>PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED.</h4><br> + +<h3>EDITED BY</h3> + +<h2>E. T. ROE</h2> + +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr> +<center> +<img src="images/004.png" alt=""> +</center> +<hr> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +<br> + + <a href="#GRANDMOTHER'S_CHAIR"><b>GRANDMOTHER'S CHAIR.</b></a><br> + <a href="#HOW_GRANDMA_SURPRISED_ELSIE"><b>HOW GRANDMA SURPRISED ELSIE.</b></a><br> + <a href="#GOING_TO_BED"><b>GOING TO BED.</b></a><br> + <a href="#THE_CAT_AND_THE_PARROT"><b>THE CAT AND THE PARROT.</b></a><br> + <a href="#BABY"><b>BABY.</b></a><br> + <a href="#THE_CAPTAINS_DAUGHTER"><b>THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER.</b></a><br> + <a href="#FUN_FOR_THE_KITTENS"><b>FUN FOR THE KITTENS.</b></a><br> + <a href="#TOMMY_GREEN_AND_TOMMY_RED"><b>TOMMY GREEN AND TOMMY RED.</b></a><br> + <a href="#FOND_OF_CATS"><b>FOND OF CATS.</b></a><br> + <a href="#THE_CATS_QUESTIONS"><b>THE CAT'S QUESTIONS.</b></a><br> + <a href="#SCRAMBLE"><b>"SCRAMBLE."</b></a><br> + <a href="#CLEVER_GOATS"><b>CLEVER GOATS.</b></a><br> + <a href="#KING_LEAR"><b>KING LEAR.</b></a><br> + <a href="#THE_BRITISH_MASTIFFS"><b>THE BRITISH MASTIFFS.</b></a><br> + <a href="#ON_THE_LAKES_IN_A_STORM"><b>ON THE LAKES IN A STORM.</b></a><br> + <a href="#FRITZ"><b>FRITZ.</b></a><br> + <a href="#NAUGHTY_WILLIE"><b>NAUGHTY WILLIE.</b></a><br> + <a href="#NED_BENTLYS_TEMPTATION"><b>NED BENTLY'S TEMPTATION.</b></a><br> + <a href="#HODGE"><b>"HODGE."</b></a><br> + <a href="#APRIL_FOOL"><b>APRIL FOOL.</b></a><br> + <a href="#IN_A_STORM_ON_THE_SEA"><b>IN A STORM ON THE SEA.</b></a><br> + <a href="#THE_JAGUAR"><b>THE JAGUAR.</b></a><br> + <a href="#MILITARY_DOGS"><b>MILITARY DOGS.</b></a><br> + <a href="#TRUE_TO_HIS_WORD"><b>TRUE TO HIS WORD.</b></a><br> + <a href="#HUNTING_A_LION"><b>HUNTING A LION.</b></a><br> + <a href="#PURSUED_BY_INDIANS"><b>PURSUED BY INDIANS.</b></a><br> + <a href="#THE_TRUANT'S_SOLILOQUY"><b>THE TRUANT'S SOLILOQUY</b></a><br> + <a href="#A_QUEER_FISH"><b>A QUEER FISH.</b></a><br> + <a href="#A_PROUD_MONARCH"><b>A PROUD MONARCH.</b></a><br> + <a href="#BABYS_ANSWERS"><b>BABY'S ANSWERS.</b></a><br> + <a href="#DEAR_LITTLE_BROWN-EYED_BESS"><b>DEAR LITTLE BROWN-EYED BESS.</b></a><br> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="GRANDMOTHER'S_CHAIR"></a><h2>GRANDMOTHER'S CHAIR.</h2> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Grandmother sits in her easy chair</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Softly humming some old-time air;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And as she sings, her needles keep pace</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With the smiles that flit o'er her wrinkled face;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While the fire-light flickers, and fades away,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And comes again like the breaking day.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">From morning till evening she knits and sings,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While ever the pendulum tireless swings</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The moments around, with its tick and stroke,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nor hastes for the festal, nor lags for the yoke.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And grandmother never repines at her fate</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of being the last at the "Crystal Gate."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Husband, and daughters, and sons all there,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wearing the "crown and the garments fair"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Singing the songs that will never tire,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And swelling the chorus of heaven's choir;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But patiently, hopefully, bides the time</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That shall bring her at last to a fairer clime.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Grandmother's chair will be vacant soon,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For the rays of life slant far past noon;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But yonder in heaven she'll sing again,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Joining the evermore glad refrain,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wearing the "crown" and the "garments fair,"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While we mournfully stand by her vacant chair.</span><br> + + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="HOW_GRANDMA_SURPRISED_ELSIE"></a><h2>HOW GRANDMA SURPRISED ELSIE.</h2> +<br> +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/009.png" align="left" alt="GRANDMAMMA WONDERS IF SHE CAN'T MEND IT."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">GRANDMAMMA WONDERS IF SHE CAN'T MEND IT.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Elsie Dean was four years old when she was invited to her first party. +It was Dollie Blossom's fifth birthday, and Dollie's mamma had arranged +for a little party in honor of the event. Of course Elsie's mamma was +perfectly willing she should go to the party, for the Blossoms were very +nice people, and Mrs. Dean was always glad for an occasion of enjoyment +for her little daughter. But alas, on the day before the party was to +occur, Elsie went to a picnic, and was so unfortunate as to tear her +dress—the only one she had which her mamma thought was suitable for her +to wear to the party. "I am afraid you cannot go to the party, my dear, +for now you have nothing fit to wear," said Mrs. Dean to Elsie. The +little girl's eyes filled with tears, and her Grandmamma seemed to feel +almost as bad about it as Elsie. But she did not wish to make the little +girl feel any worse over her disappointment, so she made light of it and +told her that there would probably be another birthday party soon, and +by that time she would surely have a suitable dress to wear. Elsie was +finally comforted, and went to bed in good spirits after kissing mamma +and grandmamma good night.</p> + +<p>What was Elsie's surprise next morning, to find that her picnic dress +had been mended "good as new." She did not need to ask who did it, for +she felt certain that it was grandmamma's work, and so it proved. +Grandmamma remembered that she herself was a little girl once, and that +blessed memory brought her into close sympathy with the grief and joy of +her little granddaughter. And so Elsie, thanks to her grandmamma's tact +and tenderness, went to Dolly Blossom's birthday party.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="GOING_TO_BED"></a><h2>GOING TO BED.</h2> +<table border=0 width="250" align=right> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/011.png" align=left alt="GOING TO BED."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">GOING TO BED.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br style="clear: left"> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The evening is coming,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">The Sun sinks to rest;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The rooks are all flying</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Straight home to their nest.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Caw!" says the rook, as he flies overhead:</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It's time little people were going to bed!</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The flowers are closing,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">The daisy's asleep;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The primrose is buried</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">In slumber so deep.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Shut up for the night is the pimpernel red:</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It's time little people were going to bed!</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The butterfly, drowsy,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Has folded its wing;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The bees are returning,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">No more the birds sing.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Their labor is over, their nestlings are fed:</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It's time little people were going to bed!</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Here comes the pony,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">His work is all done;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Down through the meadow</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">He takes a good run;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Up goes his heels, and down goes his head:</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It's time little people were going to bed!</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Good-night, little people,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Good-night and good-night;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Sweet dreams to your eyelids,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Till dawning of light;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The evening has come, there's no more to be said:</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It's time little people were going to bed!</span><br> + +<p style="text-align: right"><b>T. HOOD.</b></p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<a name="THE_CAT_AND_THE_PARROT"></a><h2>THE CAT AND THE PARROT.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/013.png" align="left" alt="POLLY PLAYING OFF A TRICK ON PUSS."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">POLLY PLAYING OFF A TRICK ON PUSS.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>A lady who lived in New York City owned a pet parrot and a large house +cat. The parrot was just as full of mischief as could be. One day the +cat and parrot had a quarrel. I think the cat had upset Polly's food, or +something of that kind. However, they seemed all right again. An hour or +so after Polly was on her stand, she called out in a tone of extreme +affection, "Pussy! Pussy! come here, Pussy." Pussy went and looked up +innocently enough; Polly with her beak seized her tin of food and tipped +its contents all over the cat, and then chuckled as poor Puss ran away +half frightened to death.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="BABY"></a><h2>BABY.</h2> + + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who is it coos just like a dove?</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who is it that we dearly love—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The brightest blessing from above?</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Our baby.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While silent watch the angels keep,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who smiles so sweetly in his sleep,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And oft displays his dimples deep.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Our baby.</span><br> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="THE_CAPTAINS_DAUGHTER"></a><h2>THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=right> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/015.png" align="left" alt="SHIPWRECK ON THE AUCKLAND ISLANDS."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">SHIPWRECK ON THE AUCKLAND ISLANDS.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br style="clear: left"> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">We were crowded in the cabin,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Not a soul would dare to sleep,—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It was midnight on the waters,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And a storm was on the deep.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">'Tis a fearful thing in winter</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">To be shattered by the blast,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And to hear the rattling trumpet</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Thunder, "Cut away the mast!"</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">So we shuddered there in silence,—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">For the stoutest held his breath,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While the hungry sea was roaring,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And the breakers talked with Death.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And as thus we sat in darkness,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Each one busy with his prayers,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"We are lost!" the Captain shouted,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">As he staggered down the stairs.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But his little daughter whispered,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">As she took his icy hand,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Isn't God upon the ocean,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Just the same as on the land?"</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Then we kissed the little maiden,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And we spoke in better cheer,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And we anchored safe in harbor</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">When the morn was smiling clear.</span><br> + +<p style="text-align: right"><b>J. T. FIELDS</b></p> + + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="FUN_FOR_THE_KITTENS"></a><h2>FUN FOR THE KITTENS.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=right> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/017.png" align="left" alt="FUN FOR THE KITTENS."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">FUN FOR THE KITTENS.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Our cat she had five little ones,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">As every person knew;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Their names were "Flossie," "Snowball," "Smut,"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">With "Kit," and little "Mew."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">One day on foraging intent,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">She leaped upon a cage,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But after sniffing round a while</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Vexed thoughts her mind engage.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"How very sad it is," thought she,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">"That every single linnet</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Has been removed before we came!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">The cage has nothing in it!</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"However, I have dined to-day,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">So now for quiet rest;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My children, you may go and play,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">For frolic suits you best."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With folded paws she laid her down,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And meditative look,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While every wicked little cat</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Its own diversion took.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Said Snowball to his brother Kit,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">"Get out of this—now do;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For Smut and I, we live in here,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And there's no room for you!</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"And Smut feels rather sick to-day,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">He told me so just now;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">So off you go, again I say,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Or there will be a row.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"And Kit, just leave that stick alone;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come, drop it now at once;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of all the cats I ever knew</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">You are the greatest dunce."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cried little Smut, "Quick, Snowball, quick!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Or you will be too late;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Here's sister Flossie pushing in;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Come quick, and shut the gate."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"How strange it seems, when you and I,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Dear Snowball, are so good,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That other cats should be so pert,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Inquisitive and rude!"</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Said mother Puss, "This summer day</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">I thought to lie at rest,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While my dear children romp and play,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Which seems to suit them best.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"But really, how they snarl and fight,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And kick, and growl, and riot!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ah, well! when they are old like me</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">They'll like a little quiet."</span><br> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="TOMMY_GREEN_AND_TOMMY_RED"></a><h2>TOMMY GREEN AND TOMMY RED.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/019.png" align="left" alt="PAINTING TOMMY'S FACE."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">PAINTING TOMMY'S FACE.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Tommy Green was a little boy only eight years old when his parents sent +him to "boarding school," where he was thrown into the company of boys +older than himself. It is strange how most all boys enjoy teasing those +who are younger than themselves.</p> + +<p>At Tommy's boarding school all the boys slept in one large room, on cots +conveniently arranged. Tommy was a heavy sleeper. One morning he awoke +with a strange feeling of stiffness about his face, and no sooner did he +sit up in bed than a laugh rang around the whole room.</p> + +<p>"What are you laughing at?", he asked, but the boys only laughed the +harder at his confusion. At last one little boy named Frankie Jones +cried out "Tommy, it's your face."</p> + +<p>Tommy rushed to a looking-glass, and found on his forehead and on each +cheek an enormous dab of red paint.</p> + +<p>"Halloo, Green?" shouted one of the boys, "You're red now, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>Tommy was greatly teased for a while, but kept his temper, and it was +not very long before he was joining with his school-mates to tease some +other small boy in a similar manner.</p> + +<p>Such things are provoking, but it is best to treat them good-naturedly, +as Tommy did, and not lose one's temper.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="FOND_OF_CATS"></a><h2>FOND OF CATS.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/021.png" align="left" alt="EGYPTIAN SAVING HIS CAT."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">EGYPTIAN SAVING HIS CAT.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Pussy has always been a favorite in the East, but the country where she +was held in the highest estimation, and treated with the greatest +respect, was Egypt.</p> + +<p>The fondness of the Egyptians for their cats is shown in some of their +ancient paintings where the cat is frequently seen by the side of its +master whilst he entertains company. When a cat died the whole household +shaved off their eyebrows in token of mourning; and its body was sent to +the embalmers, and there made into a mummy, and afterwards buried, with +great lamentations, in the cat-sepulchre adjoining the town.</p> + +<p>Heredotus, the Greek historian, who had himself spent some time in +Egypt, and witnessed the customs of the natives, tells us that when a +house caught fire the only care of the Egyptians was to save the lives +of the cats, utterly regardless of the destruction of their property.</p> + +<p>Bubastis was the sacred city of cats, and there was the temple of the +goddess Pasht, whose statue appeared with the head of a cat. There the +cats reveled in luxury, for they were looked upon as living +representatives of the divinity. The punishment for killing any sacred +animal was death; but woe to the luckless person who even accidentally +killed a cat? for he was set upon by the infuriated people, and torn to +pieces without trial.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="THE_CATS_QUESTIONS"></a><h2>THE CAT'S QUESTIONS.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=right> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/023.png" align="left" alt="ARE YOU FRIEND OR FOE?"> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">"ARE YOU FRIEND OR FOE?"</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br style="clear: left"> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dozing, and dozing, and dozing!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Pleasant enough,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dreaming of sweet cream and mouse-meat.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Delicate stuff!</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of raids on the pantry and hen-coop,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Or light, stealthy tread</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of cat gossips, meeting by moonlight</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">On ridge-pole or shed.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Waked by a somersault, whirling,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Whirling from cushion to floor;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Waked from a wild rush of safety</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">From window to door.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Waking two hands that first smooth us,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And then pull our tails;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Punished with slaps when we show them</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">The length of our nails!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">These big mortal tyrants even grudge us</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">A place on the mat.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Do they think we enjoy for our music</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Staccatos of "scat?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">What in the world were we made for?</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Man, do you know?</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">By you to be petted, tormented?</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Are <i>you</i> friend or foe?</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To be treated now, just as you treat us,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">The question is pat,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To take just our chances in living,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Would <i>you</i> be a cat?</span><br> + +<p style="text-align: right"><b><i>LUCY LARCOM.</i></b></p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="SCRAMBLE"></a><h2>"SCRAMBLE."</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/025.png" align="left" alt="SCRAMBLE ON THE TOP OF THE WALL."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">"SCRAMBLE" ON THE TOP OF THE WALL.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Doctor Schroeder was a quaint old German physician, who lived in a fine +old-fashioned house near a public play-ground. Connected with the +doctor's premises was an extensive peach orchard, and, sad to say, +naughty boys would sometimes climb over the orchard wall and pilfer his +peaches. To guard against this practice the doctor had the top of his +wall adorned with a row of very ugly iron spikes. Not far from Doctor +Schroeder's place lived a family known as "the Jones's". One member of +the family was a small boy nicknamed "Scramble;" so named, I presume, +from the fact that he was all the time scrambling over other people's +fences and into other people's fruit trees.</p> + +<p>One day "Scramble" got caught on the spikes on top of Doctor Schroeder's +wall, and in spite of all his efforts to get loose, the spikes held him +fast until he was discovered and taken down by the quaint old doctor, +almost frightened out of his wits. That is, "Scramble" was frightened, +not the doctor, But to "Scramble's" great surprise and greater relief, +the old German did not punish him with the terrible cane he held in his +hand, but took him into the orchard and told him to take his pick of the +finest fruit on the place.</p> + +<p>"Scramble" felt greatly abashed over this unexpected kind treatment, and +never again had the heart to pilfer peaches from old Doctor Schroeder.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CLEVER_GOATS"></a><h2>CLEVER GOATS.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/027.png" align="left" alt="GOATS KNOCKING AT THE DOOR."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">GOATS KNOCKING AT THE DOOR.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Goats sometimes do very clever tricks, which almost prove them to be +capable of reasoning.</p> + +<p>A goat and her kids frequented a square in which I once lived, and were +often fed by the servants and myself. Now and again I heard a thumping +at the hall door, which arose from the buttings of the goat when the +food was not forthcoming, and the mother's example was followed by her +two little kids. After a while this grew monotonous, and no attention +was paid to their knocking! but one day the area bell—used by the +delivery men and callers generally, the wire of which passed by the side +of one of the railings—was sounded. The cook answered the bell, but no +one was there save the goat and kids, with their heads bent down towards +the kitchen window. It was at first thought that some mischievous boy +had rung the bell for them, but they were watched, and the old goat was +seen to hook one of her horns into the wire and pull it. This is too +much like reason to be ascribed to mere instinct.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="KING_LEAR"></a><h2>KING LEAR.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/029.png" align="left" alt="KING LEAR."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">KING LEAR.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Poor old King Lear, who in ancient times reigned in Britain, having in +his old age turned over all his possessions to his two older daughters, +Goneril and Regan, who professed to love him more than did their younger +sister Cordelia, was by them cruelly deprived of his crown and turned +out of his palace. None dared to give him shelter for fear of the anger +of the two wicked queens. And though he had become blind, he was forced +to wander over the land he once ruled, his only guide being an old and +faithful servant. At last, in his misery and despair, he thought he +would go to his youngest daughter, who had become queen of France, and +see if she would take pity on him. So he crossed over to France. When +Cordelia heard of her father's woeful plight, and of her sisters' +cruelty to him, she wept for sorrow, and at once sent him everything +needful for his comfort. She and her husband then set out to meet him, +surrounded by their soldiers and followers, and brought him in great +state to the palace, and honored him as a king in their land.</p> + +<p>The King of France soon gathered an army and invaded Britain. The two +ungrateful daughters and their husbands were killed, King Lear was +restored to his throne, and when he died Cordelia succeeded him in the +kingdom.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="THE_BRITISH_MASTIFFS"></a><h2>THE BRITISH MASTIFFS.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/031.png" align="left" alt="ANCIENT BRITISH SOLDIER AND MASTIFF."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">ANCIENT BRITISH SOLDIER AND MASTIFF.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>When the Romans invaded Britain they found that the natives had a breed +of large fierce dogs, who would fight bravely for their masters; these +animals they called <i>pugnaces</i>, or fighting dogs, and from them the +modern English mastiff is descended.</p> + +<p>Soon after the conquest of the island some of the British mastiffs were +sent to Rome, where their sagacity, strength and courage excited so much +admiration, that an imperial officer was appointed to reside in Britain +for the express purpose of selecting the finest dogs to fight with other +animals for the amusement of the vast crowds assembled in the Colosseum. +The strongest dogs previously known to the Romans were the Molossian +dogs of Epirus, which in their native country were trained by their +masters to fight in battle, but when they were matched against the +British mastiffs they were thoroughly beaten. The dogs of Britain were +then pitted against various wild beasts; and it was said that three of +them were a match for a bear and four for a lion. And so famous were +they for courage, that the Gauls imported them, and trained them for +war, and used them in their battles.</p> + +<p>The British mastiff is no longer trained to fight in battle, but his +character for sagacity and fidelity as well as courage, is as high as it +was in the days of the Romans.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="ON_THE_LAKES_IN_A_STORM"></a><h2>ON THE LAKES IN A STORM.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/033.png" align="left" alt="NOW FOR IT! OVER WITH YOU!"> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">"NOW FOR IT! OVER WITH YOU!"</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Some minutes before sunrise we went aboard our boat and took our places +for a long pull up the lakes. There were two sets of rowlocks, with oars +to match. Fred took one pair and Farr the other. Spot lay down on Farr's +coat behind his master. I took the stern seat and steering oar. Scott +had the bow seat and a paddle.</p> + +<p>"All ready!" cried Fred, cheerily. "Give way! one, two, three, and away +we go!"</p> + +<p>By the time we were fairly out on the lake there was quite a "sea."</p> + +<p>We made for Birch Island. The swells threw us about amazingly. There is +much strength and friskiness in these fresh-water surges. Those were +wild moments. Fred, Farr and Scott were pulling with might and main. The +spray flew over us; the spatters drenched us. I expected every moment +that we should be swamped. And as we drew near the island our case +seemed not much improved. The waves broke against it fiercely.</p> + +<p>"It won't do to let her run on there!" exclaimed Farr. "It will swamp +her."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Fred; "but it is not deep water. Sit still and pull till I +give the word, then jump out, everybody, and ease her ashore.</p> + +<p>"Now for it! Over with you!" he shouted, a moment afterwards.</p> + +<p>We leaped out, and carried the boat by main strength high upon the +land.</p> + + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="FRITZ"></a><h2>FRITZ.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/035.png" align="left" alt="FRITZ COVERING UP HIS FOOD."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">FRITZ COVERING UP HIS FOOD.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Fritz is a beautiful light-blue grey cat. He is the especial pet of his +master's little daughter, and therefore has many privileges about the +house not usually accorded to cats. Among these special privileges is +that of having his food in the dining-room. Fritz has many +peculiarities, the chief being that he thinks that he is covering up the +food that remains after he has eaten all he wishes, a habit of wild cats +which is well known.</p> + +<p>He stands over the plate which contains the remains of his repast and +scratches perfectly imaginary dust or mould over it.</p> + +<p>This he does all round the plate, and after a curious look at it to see +that it is all right, and it <i>is</i> covered up, he walks leisurely away. +How strange it is that these traces of a wild state are so often to be +seen in animals which have been domesticated for long generations! Fritz +had no need to cover up his food, even if the dirt or mould were there +for the purpose, for he is sure of getting plenty more when he wants it. +It was simply from the force of habit, a habit not his own, but his +ancestors, that he went through the motions.</p> + +<p>What a forcible illustration of the power of habit!</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="NAUGHTY_WILLIE"></a><h2>NAUGHTY WILLIE.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=right> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/037.png" align="left" alt="NAUGHTY WILLIE."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">NAUGHTY WILLIE.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Willie got punished at school to-day!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">What did he do?</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Why, he drew on his slate, in a comical way,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pictures of horses and oxen, and they</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Seemed to be dancing a real Irish jig!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yes, and he, too, had a little wee pig</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Down in the corner, as cute as could be;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">All of us laughed such a picture to see!</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That was the morning before recess,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When he threw paper balls at sly little Bess;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And one hit her plump on her fat little nose,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And made us all laugh, as you may well suppose;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And he pulled some one's hair as they went out to spell,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But who cried out nobody would tell.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And then, let me see; why he stepped on my toes,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And balanced his book on the tip of his nose</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When the teacher wasn't looking, and then, O, dear me,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He made some whiskers as black as could be</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With the cork of the ink-bottle rubbed on his cheek,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And we all laughed till we hardly could speak.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The teacher caught him, and punished him well;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Not half the words that were his could he spell;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And in the arithmetic he had to guess</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Half of the answers and wished they were less.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">All he has gained by his actions to-day,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Is a black mark and his ill-timed play.</span><br> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="NED_BENTLYS_TEMPTATION"></a><h2>NED BENTLY'S TEMPTATION.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/039.png" align="left" alt="NED REFUSING TO DRINK WITH THE MINERS."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">NED REFUSING TO DRINK WITH THE MINERS.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>When Ned Bently was a boy of about fifteen years of age he lost both of +his parents by yellow fever, in New Orleans. The only remaining relative +he had was a bachelor uncle, living in the mining regions of California. +Ned worked his way on board a ship, as a sailor boy, to San Francisco, +and finally arrived at the diggings where his uncle was engaged in +mining. In those early days of California mine digging the miners were +generally a very rough class of men. So it happened that soon after +Ned's arrival a great gruff "digger" offered to treat Ned to a drink of +liquor, and became very angry because he refused to touch it.</p> + +<p>Ned scarcely shut his eyes all that night, for he was dreadfully afraid +that the miners might yet force him to drink of that which he had been +taught was certain ruin to body and soul. But to Ned's great surprise +and joy, next morning the very man who the night before had offered to +treat him took a bold stand in his defense against the other miners' +attempts to force him to drink.</p> + +<p>"The lad's about right," said the gruff old digger. "If he can live out +here without drinkin' liquor, he'll be able to buy and sell the whole of +ye by'n'by." And so it proved, for Ned held fast to his resolution not +to drink, and became one of the wealthiest mine owners in California.</p> + + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="HODGE"></a><h2>"HODGE."</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/041.png" align="left" alt="DR. JOHNSON AND HIS CAT."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">DR. JOHNSON AND HIS CAT.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Many have a dislike to cats; but when boys say they hate cats, it is to +be feared that they mostly do so that they may have an excuse for +hunting and ill-treating them. In some cases, however, there is a +natural antipathy which those who possess it cannot help, though it +seems very foolish and unreasonable.</p> + +<p>James Boswell tells us that he was "unluckily one of those who have an +antipathy to a cat," so that he was uneasy when in a room with one. It +certainly was rather unlucky, for he was writing the life of Dr. +Johnson, and wishing to be as much in his company as possible was +frequently at his house. Now the Doctor had a favorite tomcat whom he +called "Hodge," and Boswell relates how he "suffered from the presence +of this same Hodge."</p> + +<p>He says, "I recollect him one day scrambling up Dr. Johnson's breast, +apparently with much satisfaction, while my friend, smiling and half +whistling, rubbed down his back and pulled him by the tail, and when I +observed that he was a fine cat, saying, 'Why, yes, Sir, but I have had +cats whom I liked better than this,' and then, as if perceiving Hodge to +be out of countenance, he added! 'But he's a very fine cat; a very fine +cat, indeed.'"</p> + +<p>Hodge was well taken care of, and did not have to catch rats for a +living, for the Doctor was in the habit of treating him to oysters.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="APRIL_FOOL"></a><h2>APRIL FOOL.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/043.png" align="left" alt=""> +<br style="clear: all"> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Most small boys are fond of April-fooling people. How often on the first +day of April have we seen the small boy wrapping up a piece of wood or +brick in the shape of a parcel bought at the store, carelessly place it +on the sidewalk as if dropped by a passer-by, and then hide himself near +by and wait for some one to be "fooled" by it.</p> + +<p>Dick and Frank Slemmons, one April-fool's day, concluded to get up an +April-fool on a grander scale than usual. They procured an old pair of +pants, a shirt, pair of boots, gloves, a dunce's cap, and a "false-face" +or mask. They took these articles to their father's barn, and by +stuffing them with straw and putting a few extra touches of paint on the +mask, they made a hideous looking Guy. To the back of this figure, near +the shoulders, the boys fastened a string, and when it began to grow +dark they carried it out into the yard and placed it in a sitting +posture on the front fence, to fool people who were passing by. Holding +to the string they hid themselves behind the fence intending when any +one passed to let the figure fall forward as if it were about to drop +from the fence. But they failed to fool anybody, for the first one to +come along was Mike, their father's hostler, who at once discovered the +boys, and, saying "Ah! see the little laddie-bucks over the fince!" he +grabbed the guy and took it along with him.</p> + +<p>So the boys themselves were the only ones April fooled.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="IN_A_STORM_ON_THE_SEA"></a><h2>IN A STORM ON THE SEA.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/045.png" align="left" alt="IN A STORM ON THE SEA."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">IN A STORM ON THE SEA.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Little David Loomis, only eight years old, was permitted by his father, +Captain Loomis, to accompany him on a whaling expedition. While out at +sea the body of a dead whale was discovered at some distance from the +boat, floating in the water. Several of the crew manned one of the +smaller boats and rowed away over the glassy sea to secure the carcase. +David was allowed to go with them. Before the boat reached the floating +whale, however, a fearful squall suddenly arose; the wind screamed and +whistled round their little boat; the waves, lashed to sudden fury, +hissed and foamed, breaking over them like a deluge, whilst a terrible +peel of thunder broke right overhead. David was scared almost out of his +senses. He had never before seen such a storm. But he sat still, as one +of the crew had told him to do, looking out, oh! how eagerly, for some +signs of his father's vessel. Nothing was to be seen, however, but a +wild waste of heaving, tumbling billows, over which the boat seemed +actually to fly. Suddenly the clouds lifted, the wind ceased, and all +was as calm as before the storm. Nothing was to be seen of the dead +whale, and the crew was content to let it float where it would, while +they rowed in search of their vessel. Ere long they were safe and sound +on board with Captain Loomis. David could not help repeating from a poem +he had recited at school, the words: "Isn't God upon the ocean, just the +same as on the land?"</p> + + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="THE_JAGUAR"></a><h2>THE JAGUAR.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/047.png" align="left" alt="THE JAGUAR WAITING FOR HIS PREY."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">THE JAGUAR WAITING FOR HIS PREY.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>The jaguar, or American tiger, as he is sometimes called, is a native of +South America. He is beautifully spotted with rings containing smaller +spots on a deeper ground tint. He is a ferocious and destructive beast, +inhabits the forests, and seeks his prey by watching, or by openly +seizing cattle or horses in the enclosures. His depredations among the +herds of horses which graze on the prairies of Paraguay are vast and +terrible. Swift as lightning he darts upon his prey, overthrows it by +weight, or breaks its neck by a blow of his paw. His strength is so +great, he can easily drag off a full-sized horse. He is an expert +climber, and the prints of his claws have been seen on the bark at the +top of trees fifty feet in height and without branches. He sometimes +feeds on monkeys, but they are generally too active for him; having the +power to swing themselves from branch to branch with wonderful +swiftness, they are soon beyond his reach. After horses, oxen and sheep +are his favorite prey, and his devastations among them are often very +extensive. On account of this, efforts are constantly made to destroy +him. He is hunted with dogs, which run him to bay, or force him to seek +safety in a tree, where he is kept till the approach of the hunters, who +shoot him, or disable him with their long spears.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="MILITARY_DOGS"></a><h2>MILITARY DOGS.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/049.png" align="left" alt="DOG CHILDREN OF THE REGIMENT."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">DOG CHILDREN OF THE REGIMENT.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Big dogs, little dogs; black dogs, white dogs—all sizes and sorts of +dogs are now carefully trained for use in the military service of France +and Germany as messengers, scouts, and sentinels.</p> + +<p>These "dog-children of the regiment" are not chosen from any special +breed of dogs, because that would at once cause then to be recognized, +and so become a target for the foe whenever seen.</p> + +<p>These military dogs are chosen on account of the promise they give of +"individual merit," and their education is begun as early as possible. +All are trained to silence—a most difficult lesson, and only learnt by +long and patient teaching. In fact, it is at all times difficult to +insure obedience when music strickes up, for the training poodles, +fox-terriers, and collies are sorely tempted to give vocal +accompaniment. Dogs selected for this service are thoroughly children of +the regiment. They are never allowed to associate with civilians, or to +let any man wearing an unknown uniform approach them. They must not +attack strangers, but are to keep at a respectful distance from all +such. Thus their fidelity as letter-carriers is secured.</p> + +<p>When on sentry duty they are taught to warn their human companions of +the approach of any strangers within three hundred yards. Each dog has +his regimental number on his collar.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="TRUE_TO_HIS_WORD"></a><h2>TRUE TO HIS WORD.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/051.png" align="left" alt="TAKE HENCE THE INFIDEL, SAID OMAR"> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">"TAKE HENCE THE INFIDEL," SAID OMAR</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>At the conquest of Susa, Harmozan, a Persian prince, the satrap of +Ahwaz, was taken prisoner by the Arabs. When about to be taken before +Omar, the Commander of the Faithful, he arranged himself in his most +gorgeous apparel, wearing a crown on his head, and his embroidered silk +robe being confined by a splendid jeweled girdle. When his conductors +brought him to the mosque he saw Omar stretched on the ground, taking a +mid-day sleep. When he awoke he asked their business, and they replied, +"We bring you here the king of Ahwaz."</p> + +<p>"Take hence the infidel," said Omar, averting his gaze. "Strip him of +his robes, and array him in the garb of El Islam."</p> + +<p>This was done, and when Harmozan was again brought into the presence of +Omar he wore the striped garments of the Arabs. After conversing a while +he complained of being thirsty; but when a cup of water was brought he +expressed a fear that he might be killed while drinking it.</p> + +<p>"Be of good courage," said Omar! "your life shall be safe till you have +drunk this water."</p> + +<p>Harmozan instantly dashed the cup on the ground, claiming fulfillment of +the Caliphs word. Omar declared that this conduct deserved punishment as +deceitful, but out of regard for his word he pardoned the Persian, who +became a convert to the faith of El Islam.</p> + + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="HUNTING_A_LION"></a><h2>HUNTING A LION.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/053.png" align="left" alt="THE LION SITS DOWN ON THE HUNTER."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">THE LION SITS DOWN ON THE HUNTER.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Some hunters near the Cape of Good Hope went in search of a lion which +had carried off a number of cattle from the neighborhood.</p> + +<p>They discovered him in a thicket or jungle, and at once proceeded to +pepper him with slugs and bullets. Regardless of the shower of balls the +lion bounded forward, and in an instant turned the chase upon them. All +took to their horses or their heels. One huge fellow, not nimble enough +to mount his horse in time, was left in the rear, and was speedily run +down by the rampant lion. He had the prudence to fling himself flat on +the ground and lie quiet as a log. The lion sniffed at him, scratched +him with his paw, and then quietly sat down upon his body. His routed +companions, collecting in a band, took courage at length to face about; +and, seeing the lion on the prostrate body of the hunter, they imagined +that their comrade was killed, and began to concert measures for +avenging him. After a short pause, however, the lion resigned of his own +accord his seat of triumph, relieved his panting capture, and retreated +towards the mountains. The party, on coming up, found their friend +shaking his ears, unharmed, except what he had suffered from a very +ungentlemanly piece of conduct on the part of the lion.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="PURSUED_BY_INDIANS"></a><h2>PURSUED BY INDIANS.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/055.png" align="left" alt="PURSUED BY NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">PURSUED BY NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Two young men who had been attached to an exploring party, out West, but +had unwisely strayed away from their companions, were leisurely riding +along the prairie, trying to track the footsteps of their friends, when +they saw on the brow of a hill in their rear about a dozen Indian +warriors, who were rapidly approaching them. There was not a moment to +lose. The white men were unarmed, save for their hunting-knives, while +the lances of the red men gleamed in the light of the afternoon sun. +Putting spurs to their horses the two young men tried to escape by +flight, but the derisive cries of the enemy showed that the distance was +rapidly lessening between them. Nothing could have saved them had it not +been that, just at the most critical moment, they reached a "windrow," a +strip of ground upon which a storm had hurled down the trunks of trees +in wild confusion. Hastily abandoning their horses to their fate, the +two friends got in among the thick fallen timber, where they concealed +themselves, and listened breathlessly while the Indians with shouts +pursued, and attempted to capture the coveted animals. But they did not +succeed. A cloud of dust heralded the approach of a party of men, who +with shouts and cries galloped into the midst of them.</p> + +<p>It was the exploring party, whose opportune appearance saved their +companions' lives.</p> + + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="THE_TRUANT'S_SOLILOQUY"></a><h2>THE TRUANT'S SOLILOQUY</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=right> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/057.png" align="left" alt="ALONG THE MOUNTAIN GLADE"> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">"ALONG THE MOUNTAIN GLADE"</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My schoolmates all are blessed to-day,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Their lessons conning o'er;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">O, how I wish that I were now</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Within that school-room door!</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My teacher sits beside her desk,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">With a smile upon her face,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Until she looks around the room,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And sees my vacant place.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">My heart is aching while I walk</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Along the mountain glade;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I love the trees, the rippling stream,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">But sigh that I have strayed.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">O, there's no joy in the hours of play,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">If snatched from the study-time;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">No music in the wild-bird's song,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">While I hear the school-bell chime.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">O, then, I'll seek my school again,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">My teacher's rules obey,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nor wander, as a truant boy,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">And waste another day.</span><br> + + + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="A_QUEER_FISH"></a><h2>A QUEER FISH.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/059.png" align="left" alt="A QUEER FISH."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">A QUEER FISH.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Little May's father is a fisherman. One day he brought home the funniest +fish May ever saw. She was a little bit frightened and didn't know +whether to laugh or cry. Her papa took her up in his lap, put an arm +around her waist and held her fast with one hand while he kept a tight +hold on the fish with the other.</p> + +<p>"See, May," he said, "what a queer fish this is. Would you think it +followed the same kind of business that papa does for a living?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa!" said May; "that horrid thing a fisherman?—surely you are +joking."</p> + +<p>"No, my daughter," said the fisherman, "it is no joke. With that queer +looking rod and line fastened to its nose it angles for other fishes. It +hides amongst the sea-weed at the bottom of the sea, and the fleshy +shreds attached to its nose, floating about in the water, act as natural +bait, and attract the unwary little fishes in its neighborhood, but the +instant one of them makes a bite at the tempting morsel it is whisked +away, and the poor fish is caught in the huge mouth of the fisherman +fish, and crushed up by its sharp teeth."</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa!" said May, "what horrid big eyes it has; what a huge mouth, +and such awfully sharp teeth! Ugh! Put it down, please, papa, for I +really believe I am going to be frightened."</p> + +<p>The fisherman laughed heartily, and threw the queer fish into the +basket.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="A_PROUD_MONARCH"></a><h2>A PROUD MONARCH.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=left> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/061.png" align="left" alt="A PROUD MONARCH"> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">A PROUD MONARCH</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Theodore, Emperor of Abyssinia, was raised to the throne from a very +humble position in life. He was one of the proudest of monarchs, was +styled "King of Kings," and boasted a descent from King Solomon and the +Queen of Sheba; a fiction devised to flatter the vanity of the royal +house of Ethiopia.</p> + +<p>When this mighty emperor gave an audience he was surrounded by several +large and fierce-looking lions, and he made a great display of his +command over the savage creatures; but, notwithstanding their ferocious +aspect, the animals were said to be in reality as tame as dogs. Anyway, +they must have made a timid ambassador feel rather nervous when first +introduced to the royal presence.</p> + +<p>The Abyssinians are very vain, and King Theodore thought himself greater +than all the sovereigns in the world, and this led to his fall. Thinking +he was not treated with sufficient respect by the British envoy and +other Europeans, he imprisoned them all. In 1867 an expedition was +fitted out under the command of General Napier. After encountering great +difficulties on the march, the British troops stormed and took +possession of Magdala without losing a single man; and the Emperor +Theodore, seeing that all was lost, slew himself to avoid falling into +the hands of the enemy. The captives were liberated, and for his +services in this campaign General Napier received the title of Lord +Napier of Magdala.</p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="BABYS_ANSWERS"></a><h2>BABY'S ANSWERS.</h2> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=right> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/063.png" align="left" alt="WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?"> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">"WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?"</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br style="clear: left"> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Where did you come from, baby dear?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Out of the every-where into the here."</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Where did you get your eyes so blue?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Out of the sky as I came through."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Some of the starry spikes left in."</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Where did you get that little tear?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"I found it waiting when I got here."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"What makes your forehead so smooth and high?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"A soft hand stroked it as I went by."</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Something better than any one knows."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Three angels gave me at once a kiss."</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Where did you get that pearly ear?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"God spoke, and it came out to hear."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Where did you get those arms and hands?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Love made itself into hooks and bands."</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"From the same body as the cherubs' wings."</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"How did they all just come to be you?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"God thought about me, and so I grew."</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"But how did you come to us, my dear?"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"God thought of you, and so I am here."</span><br> + +<p style="text-align: right"><b>GEORGE MACDONALD.</b></p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="DEAR_LITTLE_BROWN-EYED_BESS"></a><h2>DEAR LITTLE BROWN-EYED BESS.</h2> +<h3>A True Experience of Child-life.</h3> + +<table border=0 width="250" align=right> +<tr> +<td> +<center> +<img src="images/065.png" align="left" alt="DEAR LITTLE BROWN-EYED BESS."> +<br style="clear: all"> +<p style="text-indent: 0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0"> +<b><font size="2">DEAR LITTLE BROWN-EYED BESS.</font></b> +</p> +</center> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br style="clear: left"> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I was working in my garden one day in the end of June,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The sun shone high in the clear blue sky, and the clock had just struck noon;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I mused o'er my earliest childhood—my earliest friends, and lo,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">There rose up the picture of a child in the dear dim Long-ago:</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">She holds in her arms a puppy, and smilingly shows it to me,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Her cheeks they are rosy and chubby, all dimpled with baby glee;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Her hair is dark and wavy, her brown eyes full of fun,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And she wears a blue straw bonnet to shelter from the sun.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">She gathers daisies and kingcups till her pockets are more than full,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And dreams of the far-away city where she soon must go to school;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Her home it is rustic and lonely in the land of the river Ness,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But she loves her rural dwelling, does dear little brown-eyed Bess.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">One time—ah! how well I remember, it seems like yesterday,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dear Bessie came to visit me, just nine years past last May:</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Beneath the hawthorn blossoms, hearts full of childish bliss,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">We vowed eternal friendship, and sealed it with a kiss;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And I plucked a bright pink rosebud to fasten in her dress—</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">She was six years old that summer, was dear little brown-eyed Bess.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I remember very little of all she said to me,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But I know we loved each other with childish love and free;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I remember romping gaily around some little ricks,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And fondly giving Bessie a tiny box of bricks;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I remember our long, long parting one autumn afternoon,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And Bessie softly whispering, "Come back and see me soon."</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But alas! some wicked fairy was present with us then,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For during the days of childhood we never met again.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Six years went by, and I happened to look at my toys one day.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When I came across a wooden horse with which I used to play,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A little wooden pony I found in the old toy "press,"</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That I once had got in a present from dear little brown-eyed Bess</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">'Mongst the flowers I was dreaming and thinking—Was I ever to see her more?</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When roused by a sound I looked and saw a carriage before the door</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I ran right out of the garden and up the wooden stair,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Till I came to my own pink bedroom where I quickly smoothed my hair;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">At my heart came a rush of rapture as I hastened to brush my dress</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For who was down in the parlor? 'Twas dear little brown-eyed Bess.</span><br> +<br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Once more does our friendship flourish like the flowers in the garden-bed,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And a tall young stately maiden is in little Bessie's stead.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When I look at this stately maiden I think of the bright pink moss,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think of a foaming brooklet with a bridge of stones across;</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think of a waste of heather, a collie pup, and a cat,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In the arms of a rosy baby with a blue straw sun shade hat.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">When I look at this stately maiden I cannot a smile suppress.</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While I bless in my heart the good old times when I knew her as little Bess.</span><br> + +<p style="text-align: right"><b>JEANIE P. H. SIMPSON</b></p> + +<br style="clear: all"> +<hr> +<center> +<img src="images/067a.png" alt=""> +</center> +<hr> +<center> +<img src="images/067b.png" alt=""> +</center> +<hr> +<center> +<img src="images/070.png" alt="Inside Back Cover"> +</center> +<br /> +<br /> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11374 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |