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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nursery, Volume 17, No. 101, May, 1875, by Various</title>
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14335 ***</div>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Nursery, Volume 17, No. 101, May, 1875,
+by Various</h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<!-- Page 127 --><div><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127" /></div>
+
+<table width="650" summary="Publishing date and volume number">
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ No. 101.
+ </td>
+ <td align="center">
+ MAY, 1875.
+ </td>
+ <td align="right">
+ Vol. XVII.
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<table style="background: url(images/01.png);" width="650"
+summary="Cover Page (Illustrated)">
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ <h3>THE</h3>
+
+ <h1>NURSERY</h1>
+
+ <h2><i>A Monthly Magazine</i></h2>
+
+ <h3>FOR YOUNGEST READERS.</h3>
+ <br />
+ <br />
+ <h6>BOSTON:<br />
+ JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 BROMFIELD STREET<br />
+ <br />
+ AMERICAN NEWS CO., 119 NASSAU ST., NEW YORK.<br />
+ NEW-ENGLAND NEWS CO., 41 COURT ST., BOSTON.<br />
+ CENTRAL NEWS CO., PHILADELPHIA.<br />
+ WESTERN NEWS CO., CHICAGO.</h6>
+ </td>
+ <td>
+ <div style="height: 845px;">&nbsp;</div>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<table width="650" summary="">
+<tr><td>$1.60 a Year, in advance, Postage Included.</td><td align="right">A single copy, 15 cts.</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><!-- Page 128 --><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128" />CONTENTS OF NUMBER ONE HUNDRED AND ONE.</h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td><td align='center'>PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>EDITOR'S PORTFOLIO.</td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><a href="#EDITORS_PORTFOLIO">128</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER</td><td align='left'>By <i>Uncle Charles</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_129'>129</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>ON A HIGH HORSE</td><td align='left'>By <i>Josephine Pollard</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_132'>132</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>CELEBRATING GRANDMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY</td><td align='left'>By <i>Emily Carter</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_133'>133</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE LITTLE CULPRIT</td><td align='left'>(<i>From the German</i>)</td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_136'>136</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE DOLL-BABY SHOW</td><td align='left'>By <i>George Cooper</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_138'>138</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE CHICKENS THAT WERE WISER THAN LOTTIE</td><td align='left'>By <i>Ruth Kenyon</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_140'>140</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A HUNT FOR BOY BLUE</td><td align='left'>By <i>A.L.T</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_142'>142</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A DRAWING-LESSON</td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_145'>145</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>DAY AND NIGHT</td><td align='left'>By <i>Aunt Winnie</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_146'>146</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>VIEW FROM COOPER'S HILL</td><td align='left'>By <i>E.W.</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_147'>147</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>SATURDAY NIGHT</td><td align='left'>By <i>Uncle Charles</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_148'>148</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>THE CUCKOO</td><td align='left'>By <i>Uncle Oscar</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_150'>150</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>WORK AND SING!</td><td align='left'>By <i>Emily Carter</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_152'>152</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>ONE YEAR OLD</td><td align='left'>By <i>A.B.C.</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_153'>153</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>MY DOG</td><td align='left'>By <i>Willie B. Marshall</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_156'>156</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>MAY</td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_157'>157</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>DOT AND THE LEMONS</td><td align='left'>By <i>G.</i></td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_158'>158</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>DADDY DANDELION</td><td align='left'>(<i>Music by T. Crampton</i>)</td><td align='left'><a href='#Page_160'>160</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="EDITORS_PORTFOLIO" id="EDITORS_PORTFOLIO" />EDITOR'S PORTFOLIO.</h2>
+
+
+<p>We think that the present number, both in its pictorial and its literary
+contents, will please our host of readers, young and old. The charming
+little story of &quot;The Little Culprit,&quot; in its mixture of humor and
+pathos, has been rarely excelled.</p>
+
+<p>The drawing lessons, consisting of outlines made by Weir from Landseer's
+pictures, seem to be fully appreciated by our young readers, and we have
+received from them several copies which are very creditable.</p>
+
+<p>Remember that for teaching children to read there are no more attractive
+volumes than &quot;The Easy Book&quot; and &quot;The Beautiful Book,&quot; published at this
+office.</p>
+
+<p>The pleasant days of spring ought to remind canvassers that now is a
+good time for getting subscribers, and that &quot;The Nursery&quot; needs but to
+be shown to intelligent parents to be appreciated. See terms.</p>
+
+<p>The use of &quot;The Nursery&quot; in schools has been attended with the best
+results. We have much interesting testimony on this point, which we may
+soon communicate. It will be worthy the attention of teachers and school
+committees.</p>
+
+<p><i>Subscribers who do not receive</i> &quot;THE NURSERY&quot; <i>promptly, (making due
+allowance for the ordinary delay of the mail), are requested to notify
+us</i> IMMEDIATELY. <i>Don't wait two or three months and then write
+informing us that we have &quot;not sent&quot; the magazine, (which in most cases
+is not the fact): but state simply that you have not</i> RECEIVED <i>it; and
+be sure, in the first place, that the fault is not at your own
+Post-office. Always mention the</i> DATE <i>of your remittance and
+subscription as nearly as possible. Remember that</i> WE <i>are not
+responsible for the short-comings of the Post-office, and that our
+delivery of the magazine is complete when we drop it into the Boston
+office properly directed</i>.</p>
+
+<p><b>&quot;Every house that has children in it, needs 'The Nursery' for their
+profit and delight: and every childless house needs it for the sweet
+portraiture it gives of childhood.&quot;&mdash;Northampton Journal.</b></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div><!-- Page 129 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129" />[Pg 129]</span></div>
+
+<p class="center">
+<a href="images/02.png"><img src="images/02.png" width="400"
+alt="THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER. VOL. XVII.&mdash;NO. 5." title="" />
+</a></p>
+<h5>THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER. VOL. XVII.&mdash;NO. 5.</h5>
+
+
+<div><!-- Page 130 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130" />[Pg 130]</span></div>
+
+<h2>THE DOG WHO LOST HIS MASTER</h2>
+
+
+<p><img src="images/03.png" width="100" alt="S" title="S" />pot was a little dog who had come all the way from Chicago to Boston,
+in the cars with his master. But, as they were about to take the cars
+back to their home, they entered a shop near the railroad-station; and
+there, before Spot could get out to follow his master, a bad boy shut
+the door, and kept the poor dog a prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>The cars were just going to start. In vain did the master call &quot;Spot,
+Spot!&quot; In vain did poor Spot bark and whine, and scratch at the door,
+and plead to be let out of the shop. The bad boy kept him there till
+just as the bell rang; and then he opened the door, and poor Spot
+ran&mdash;oh, so fast!&mdash;but the cars moved faster than he.</p>
+
+<p>Mile after mile poor Spot followed the cars, till they were far out of
+sight. Then, panting and tired, he stopped by the roadside, and wondered
+what he should do, without a home, without a master.</p>
+
+<p>He had not rested many minutes, when he saw two little girls coming
+along the road that crossed the iron track. They were Nelly and Julia,
+two sisters. Spot thought he would try and make friends with them.</p>
+
+<p>But they were afraid of strange dogs. Julia began to cry; and Nelly
+said, &quot;Go away, sir; go home, sir: we don't want any thing to do with
+you, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Spot was sorry to be thus driven off. He stopped, and began to whine in
+a pleading sort of way, as if saying, &quot;I am a good dog, though a
+stranger to you. I have lost my master, and I am very hungry. Please let
+me follow you. I'll be very good. I know tricks that will please you.&quot;</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 131 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131" />[Pg 131]</span></div>
+
+<p>The children were not so much afraid when they saw him stop as if to get
+permission to follow. &quot;He is a good dog, after all,&quot; said Nelly: &quot;he
+would not force his company on us; he wants his dinner. Come on, sir!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Thus encouraged, Spot ran up, wagging his tail, and showing that he was
+very glad to find a friend. He barked at other dogs who came too near,
+and showed that he meant to defend the little girls at all risks.</p>
+
+<p>When they arrived home, they gave him some milk and bread, and then took
+him into the sitting-room, and played with him. &quot;Beg, sir!&quot; said Nelly;
+and at once Spot stood upright on his hind-legs, and put out his
+fore-paws.</p>
+
+<p>Then Julia rolled a ball along the floor; and Spot caught it almost
+before it left her hand. &quot;Now, die, sir, die!&quot; cried Nelly; and, much to
+her surprise, Spot lay down on the floor, and acted as if he were dead.</p>
+
+<p>When papa came home, and saw what a good, wise dog Spot was, he told the
+children they might keep him till they could find the owner.</p>
+
+<p>A week afterwards, they saw at the railroad-station a printed bill
+offering a reward of thirty dollars for Spot.</p>
+
+<p>He was restored at once to his master, who proved to be a Mr. Walldorf,
+a German. But the little girls refused the offered reward; for they said
+they did not deserve it, and Spot had been no trouble to them.</p>
+
+<p>Three weeks passed by, and then there came a box from New York, directed
+to Nelly and Julia. They opened it: and there were two beautiful French
+dolls, and two nice large dolls' trunks filled with dolls' dresses and
+bonnets,&mdash;dresses for morning and evening, for opera and ball-room, for
+the street and the parlor, for riding and walking.</p>
+
+<p>The present was from Mr. Walldorf; and with it came a letter from him
+thanking the little girls for their kindness to his good dog, Spot, and
+promising to bring Spot to see them the next time he visited Boston.</p>
+
+<p class="author">UNCLE CHARLES.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div><!-- Page 132 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132" />[Pg 132]</span></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/04.png"><img src="images/04.png" width="600" height="449" alt="On A High Horse" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<h2>ON A HIGH HORSE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>On a velocipede<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Harry would ride:<br /></span>
+<span>Quickly the splendid steed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Set him astride.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Now for a jolly time!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now for some sport!<br /></span>
+<span>Hold on!&mdash;the little chap's<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Legs are too short.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Harry can't touch the peg,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All he can do;<br /></span>
+<span>Though he may stretch his leg<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Out of his shoe!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>What can we do for him?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This much, of course:<br /></span>
+<span>Let down the rider&mdash;or<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let down the horse.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Many a hobby-horse<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Small boys must ride,<br /></span>
+<span>Ere such a steed as this<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They can bestride<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>So, little Harry dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Don't look so cross<br /></span>
+<span>When you are taken down<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From a high horse.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="author">JOSEPHINE POLLARD.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div><!-- Page 133 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133" />[Pg 133]</span></div>
+
+<h2>CELEBRATING GRANDMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There were three little sisters and one little brother; and their names
+were Emma, Ruth, Linda, and John. And these children had a grandmother,
+whose seventieth birthday was near at hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What shall we do to celebrate our dear grandmother's birthday?&quot; asked
+Emma, the eldest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get some crackers and torpedoes, and fire them off,&quot; said Johnny.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that will never do!&quot; cried Linda. &quot;Let us give her a serenade.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But we none of us sing well enough,&quot; said Ruth; &quot;and grandmother, you
+know, is a very good musician. Let us do this: Let us come to her as the
+'Four Seasons,' and each one salute her with a verse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes: that's a very pretty idea,&quot; cried Linda. &quot;And I'll be Spring; for
+they say my eyes are blue as violets.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I'll be Summer,&quot; cried Emma. &quot;I like summer best.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll be Autumn,&quot; said Johnny; &quot;for, if there's any thing I like, it is
+grapes. Peaches, too, are not bad; and what fun it is to go a-nutting!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's but one season left for me,&quot; said Ruth. &quot;I must be Winter. No
+matter! Winter has its joys as well as the rest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But who'll write the verses for us?&quot; asked Emma. &quot;There must be a verse
+for every season.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, the teacher will write them for us!&quot; cried Ruth. &quot;No one could do
+it better.&quot;</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 134 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134" />[Pg 134]</span></div>
+
+<p>And so, on the morning of grandmother's birthday, as she sat in her
+large armchair, with her own pussy on a stool at her side, the &quot;Four
+Seasons&quot; entered the room, one after another, and formed a semicircle
+in front of her. Grandmother was not a bit frightened. She smiled
+kindly; and then the &quot;Seasons&quot; spoke as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+<a href="images/05.png"><img src="images/05.png" width="400"
+alt="Celebrating Grandmother&#39;s Birthday" title="" />
+</a></p>
+
+
+
+<h3>SPRING.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>I am the Spring: with sunshine see me coming;<br /></span>
+<span>Birds begin to twitter; hark! the bees are humming:<br /></span>
+<span>Green to field and hillside, blossoms to the tree,<br /></span>
+<span>Joy to every human heart are what I bring with me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div><!-- Page 135 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135" />[Pg 135]</span></div>
+
+<h3>SUMMER.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>See my wealth of flowers! I'm the golden Summer:<br /></span>
+<span>Is there for the young or old a more welcome comer?<br /></span>
+<span>Come and scent the new-mown grass; by the hillside stray;<br /></span>
+<span>And confess that only June brings the perfect day.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h3>AUTUMN.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>Mark the wreath about my head,&mdash;wreath of richest flowers;<br /></span>
+<span>I am Autumn, and I bring mildest, happiest hours;<br /></span>
+<span>In my hand a goblet see, which the grape-juice holds;<br /></span>
+<span>Corn and grain and precious fruits, Autumn's arm enfolds.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h3>WINTER.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>Round my head the holly-leaf; in my hand the pine:<br /></span>
+<span>I am Winter cold and stern; these last flowers are mine.<br /></span>
+<span>But while I am left to rule, all's not dark or sad;<br /></span>
+<span>Christmas comes with winter-time to make the children glad.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h3>ALL THE SEASONS.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>Here our offerings glad we bring,<br /></span>
+<span>And long life to Grandma sing.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="author">EMILY CARTER.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<a href="images/06.png"><img src="images/06.png" width="400" height="330" alt="Hummingbirds and Fruit" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div><!-- Page 136 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136" />[Pg 136]</span></div>
+
+<h2>THE LITTLE CULPRIT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>School had begun. The boys and girls were in their places, and the
+master was hearing them spell; when all at once there was a soft, low
+knock at the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come in!&quot; said the master; and a little cleanly-dressed girl, about six
+years old, stood upon the threshold, with downcast eyes.</p>
+
+<p>She held out before her, as if trying to hide behind it, a satchel, so
+large that it seemed hard to decide whether the child had brought it, or
+it had brought the child; and the drops on her cheeks showed how she had
+been running.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Katie!&quot; cried the schoolmaster, &quot;why do you come so late? Come
+here to me, little culprit. It is the first time you have been late.
+What does it mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Little Katie slowly approached him, while her chubby face grew scarlet.
+&quot;I&mdash;I had to pick berries,&quot; she faltered, biting her berry-stained lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Katie!&quot; said the master, raising his forefinger, &quot;that is very
+strange. You <i>had</i> to? Who, then, told you to?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Katie still looked down; and her face grew redder still.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look me in the face, my child,&quot; said the master gravely. &quot;Are you
+telling the truth?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Katie tried to raise her brown roguish eyes to his face: but, ah! the
+consciousness of guilt weighed down her eyelids like lead. She could not
+look at her teacher: she only shook her curly head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Katie,&quot; said the master kindly, &quot;you were not sent to pick berries: you
+ran into the woods to pick them for yourself. Perhaps this is your first
+falsehood, as it is the first time you have been late at school. Pray
+God that it may be your last.&quot;</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 137 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137" />[Pg 137]</span></div>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, oh!&quot; broke forth the little culprit, &quot;the neighbor's boy, Fritz,
+took me with him; and the berries tasted so good that I staid too long.&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/07.png"><img src="images/07.png" width="600" height="449" alt="At Teacher&#39;s Desk" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>The other children laughed; but a motion of the master's hand restored
+silence, and, turning to Katie, he said, &quot;Now, my child, for your
+tardiness you will have a black mark, and go down one in your class;
+but, Katie, for the falsehood you will lose your place in my heart, and
+I cannot love you so much. But I will forgive you, if you will go stand
+in the corner of your own accord. Which will you do,&mdash;lose your place in
+my heart, or go stand in the corner for a quarter of an hour?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The child burst into a flood of tears, and sobbing out, &quot;I'd rather go
+stand in the corner,&quot; went there instantly, and turned her dear little
+face to the wall.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes the master called her, and, as she came running to him,
+he said: &quot;Will you promise me, Katie, never again to say what is not
+true?&quot;</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 138 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138" />[Pg 138]</span></div>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, I will try&mdash;I will try never, never to do it again,&quot; was the
+contrite answer.</p>
+
+<p>Then the master took up the rosy little thing, and set her on his knee,
+and said: &quot;Now, my dear child, I will love you dearly. And, if you are
+ever tempted to say what is not true, think how it would grieve your old
+teacher if he knew it, and speak the truth for his sake.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes!&quot; cried the child, her little heart overflowing with
+repentance; and, throwing her arms around the master's neck, she hugged
+him, and said again, &quot;Yes, yes!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="author">FROM THE GERMAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_DOLL_BABY_SHOW" id="THE_DOLL_BABY_SHOW" />THE DOLL-BABY SHOW.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>Our doll-baby show, it was something quite grand;<br /></span>
+<span>You saw there the loveliest dolls in the land.<br /></span>
+<span>Each girl brought her own, in its prettiest dress:<br /></span>
+<span>Three pins bought a ticket, and not a pin less.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>For the doll that was choicest we offered a prize:<br /></span>
+<span>There were wee mites of dollies, and some of great size.<br /></span>
+<span>Some came in rich purple, some lilac, some white,<br /></span>
+<span>With ribbons and laces,&mdash;a wonderful sight!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Now, there was one dolly, so tall and so proud,<br /></span>
+<span>She put all the others quite under a cloud;<br /></span>
+<span>But one of us hinted, in so many words,<br /></span>
+<span>That sometimes fine feathers do not make fine birds.<br /></span>
+</div>
+<div><!-- Page 139 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139" />[Pg 139]</span></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/08.png"><img src="images/08.png" width="600" height="454" alt="The Doll-Baby Show" title="" />
+</a>
+</div><br />
+<div class="stanza">
+<span>We sat in a row, with our dolls in our laps:<br /></span>
+<span>The dolls behaved sweetly, and met no mishaps.<br /></span>
+<span>No boys were admitted; for boys will make fun:<br /></span>
+<span>Now which do you think was the dolly that won?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Soon all was commotion to hear who would get<br /></span>
+<span>The prize; for the dollies' committee had met:<br /></span>
+<span>We were the committee; and which do you think<br /></span>
+<span>Was the doll we decided on, all in a wink?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Why, each of us said that our own was the best,<br /></span>
+<span>The finest, the sweetest, the prettiest drest:<br /></span>
+<span>So we <i>all</i> got the prize&mdash;we'll invite you to go<br /></span>
+<span>The next time we girls have our doll-baby show.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="author">GEORGE COOPER.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div><!-- Page 140 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140" />[Pg 140]</span></div>
+
+<h2>THE CHICKENS THAT WERE WISER THAN LOTTIE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Lottie is always asking, &quot;Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When mamma calls from the window, &quot;Lottie, Lottie!&quot; she answers, very
+pleasantly, &quot;What, ma'am?&quot; for she hopes mamma will say, &quot;Here's a nice
+turnover for you;&quot; or, &quot;Cousin Alice has come to see you.&quot; But when the
+answer is &quot;It is time to come in,&quot; the wrinkles appear on Lottie's
+forehead, and her voice is a very different one, as she says, &quot;Oh, dear,
+I don't want to! <i>Why</i> need I come in now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When papa says, &quot;Little daughter, I want you to do an errand for me,&quot;
+Lottie whines, and asks, &quot;<i>Why</i> can't Benny do it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Out in the field Old Biddy Brown has four wee chickens, little soft
+downy balls, scarcely bigger than the eggs they came from just one week
+ago.</p>
+
+<p>They are very spry, and run all about. When the mother Biddy finds any
+nice bit, she clucks; and every little chick comes running to see what
+is wanting.</p>
+
+<p>When it grows chilly, and she fears they will take cold, she says,
+&quot;Cluck, cluck, cluck!&quot; and they all run under her warm feathers as fast
+as they can.</p>
+
+<p>Just now Mother Biddy gave a very loud call, and every chicken was under
+her wings in a minute; and up in the sky I saw a hawk, who had been
+planning to make a good dinner of these same chickens. I could not help
+thinking, how well for them, that they did not stop, like Lottie, to
+ask, &quot;Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Down came the hawk with a fierce swoop, as if he meant to take the old
+hen and the chickens too; but Mother Biddy sprang up and faced him so
+boldly, that he did not know what to make of it.</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 141 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141" />[Pg 141]</span></div>
+
+<p class="center">
+<a href="images/09.png"><img src="images/09.png" width="400"
+alt="The Chickens That Were Wiser Than Lottie" title="" />
+</a></p>
+
+<p>She seemed to say, &quot;Come on my fine fellow, if you dare. You have got to
+eat me before you eat my chicks; and you'll find me rather tough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So the hawk changed his mind at the last moment. He thought he would
+wait till he could catch the chickens alone. The chickens were saved,
+though one of them was nearly dead with fright.</p>
+
+<p class="author">RUTH KENYON.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div><!-- Page 142 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142" />[Pg 142]</span></div>
+<h2>A HUNT FOR BOY BLUE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>We have a little three-year-old boy at our house, who likes to hear
+stories, and his mother tells him a great many. But there is one which
+pleases him more than all the rest, and perhaps the little readers of
+&quot;The Nursery&quot; will like it too.</p>
+
+<p>You have all heard of little Boy Blue, and how he was called upon to
+blow his horn; but I don't think any of you know what a search his
+father had to find him. This is the story.</p>
+
+<p>Boy Blue lived on a large farm, and took care of the sheep and cows. One
+day the cows got into the corn, and the sheep into the meadow; and Boy
+Blue was nowhere to be seen. His father called and called, &quot;Boy Blue,
+Boy Blue, where are you? Why do you not look after the sheep and cows?
+Where are you?&quot; But no one answered.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;">
+<a href="images/10.png"><img src="images/10.png" width="200" height="244" alt="Father &amp; Horse" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>Then Boy Blue's father went to the pasture, and said, &quot;Horse, horse,
+have you seen Boy Blue?&quot; The old horse pricked up his cars, and looked
+very thoughtful, but neighed, and said, &quot;No, no: I have not seen Boy
+Blue.&quot;</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 143 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143" />[Pg 143]</span></div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;">
+<a href="images/11.png"><img src="images/11.png" width="200" height="195" alt="Father &amp; Oxen" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>Next he went to the field where the oxen were ploughing, and said,
+&quot;Oxen, oxen, have you seen Boy Blue?&quot; They rolled their great eyes, and
+looked at him; but shook their heads, and said, &quot;No, no: we have not
+seen Boy Blue.&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;">
+<a href="images/12.png"><img src="images/12.png" width="200" height="243" alt="Father &amp; Duck" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>Next, he went to the pond; and a great fat duck came out to meet him;
+and he said, &quot;Duck, duck, have you seen Boy Blue?&quot; And she said, &quot;Quack,
+quack, quack! I have not seen Boy Blue.&quot; And all the other ducks said,
+&quot;Quack, quack!&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;">
+<a href="images/13.png"><img src="images/13.png" width="200" height="248" alt="Father &amp; Turkey" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>Then Boy Blue's father visited the turkeys, and asked the old gobbler if
+he had seen Boy Blue. The old gobbler strutted up and down, saying,
+&quot;Gobble, gobble, gobble! I have not seen Boy Blue.&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;">
+<a href="images/14.png"><img src="images/14.png" width="200" height="213" alt="Cockerel" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>He then asked the cockerel if he had seen Boy Blue. And the cockerel
+answered, &quot;Cock-coo-doodle-doo! I haven't seen Boy Blue:
+cock-coo-doodle-doo!&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;">
+<a href="images/15.png"><img src="images/15.png" width="200" height="222" alt="Hen" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>Then an old hen was asked if she had seen Boy Blue. She said, &quot;Cluck,
+cluck, cluck! I haven't seen Boy Blue; but I will call my chicks, and
+you can ask them. Cluck, cluck, cluck!&quot; And all the chicks came running,
+but only said, &quot;Peep, peep, peep! We haven't seen Boy Blue. Peep, peep,
+peep!&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;">
+<a href="images/16.png"><img src="images/16.png" width="200" height="241" alt="Hen &amp; Chicks" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>Boy Blue's father then went to the men who were making hay, and said,
+&quot;Men, men, have you seen my Boy Blue?&quot; But the men answered, &quot;No, no: we
+have not seen Boy Blue.&quot; But just then they happened to look under a
+haycock; and there, all curled up, lay Boy Blue, and his dog Tray, fast
+asleep.</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 144 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144" />[Pg 144]</span></div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;">
+<a href="images/17.png"><img src="images/17.png" width="200" height="233" alt="Father &amp; Boy Blue" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>His father shook him by the arm, saying, &quot;Boy Blue, wake up, wake up!
+The sheep are in the meadow, and the cows are in the corn.&quot; Boy Blue
+sprang to his feet, seized his tin horn, and ran as fast as he could to
+the cornfield, with his little dog running by his side.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;">
+<a href="images/18.png"><img src="images/18.png" width="200" height="241" alt="Boy Blue &amp; Horn" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>He blew on his horn, &quot;<i>Toot, toot, toot</i>!&quot; and all the cows came running
+up, saying, &quot;Moo, moo!&quot; He drove them to the barn to be milked. Then he
+ran to the meadows, and blew once more, &quot;<i>Toot, toot, toot</i>!&quot; and all
+the sheep came running up, saying, &quot;Baa, baa!&quot; and he drove them to
+their pasture.</p>
+
+<p>Then Boy Blue said to his dog, &quot;Little dog, little dog, it's time for
+supper,&quot; and his little dog said &quot;Bow, wow! Bow, wow!&quot; So they went home
+to supper.</p>
+
+<p>After Boy Blue had eaten a nice bowl of bread and milk, his father said:
+&quot;Now Boy Blue, you had better go to bed, and have a good night's rest,
+so that you may be able to keep awake all day to-morrow; for I don't
+want to have such a hunt for you again.&quot; Then Boy Blue said, &quot;Good
+night,&quot; and went to bed, and slept sweetly all night long.</p>
+
+<p class="author">A.L.T.</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 145 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145" />[Pg 145]</span></div>
+
+<p class="center">
+<a href="images/19.png"><img src="images/19.png" width="400"
+alt="From SIR EDWIN LANDSEER&#39;S painting. In outline by MR.
+HARRISON WEIR, as a drawing lesson." title="" />
+</a></p>
+<h5>From SIR EDWIN LANDSEER&#39;S painting. In outline by MR.
+HARRISON WEIR, as a drawing lesson.</h5>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div><!-- Page 146 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146" />[Pg 146]</span></div>
+
+<h2>DAY AND NIGHT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Blue-eyed Charley Day had a cousin near his own age, whose name was
+Harry Knight. When they were about eight years old, and began to go to
+the public school, the boys called them, &quot;Day and Night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Charley did not object to the puns the schoolboys made; but Harry was
+quite vexed by them. Having quite a dark skin, and very dark eyes and
+hair, he thought the boys meant to insult him by calling him, &quot;Night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>One large boy, about twelve years old, seemed to delight in teasing
+Harry. He would say to him, &quot;Come here, 'Night,' and shade my eyes, the
+day is so bright.&quot; Then, seeing that Harry was annoyed, he would say,
+&quot;Oh, what a dark night!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Poor Harry would get angry, and that made matters worse; for then Tom
+Smith would call him a &quot;stormy night,&quot; or a &quot;cloudy night,&quot; or the
+&quot;blackest night&quot; he ever saw.</p>
+
+<p>Harry talked with his mother about it; and she told him the best way
+would be to join with the boys in their jokes, or else not notice them
+at all. She said if he never got out of temper, the boys would not call
+him any thing worse than a &quot;bright starry night.&quot; And if he went through
+the world with as good a name as that she should be perfectly satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't take offence at trifles, Harry,&quot; said Mrs. Knight. &quot;Don't be
+teased by a little nonsense. All the fun that the boys can make out of
+your name will not hurt you a bit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Harry was wise enough to do as his mother advised, and he found that she
+was right. The boys soon became tired of their jokes, when they found
+that no one was disturbed by them. But the little cousins were alway
+good-naturedly called &quot;Day and Night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="author">AUNT WINNIE.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div><!-- Page 147 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147" />[Pg 147]</span></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/20.png"><img src="images/20.png" width="600" height="433" alt="View from Cooper&#39;s Hill" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<h2>VIEW FROM COOPER'S HILL.</h2>
+
+
+<p>When grandma was a little girl, she lived in England, where she was
+born. She lived in the town of Windsor, twenty-three miles south-west of
+London, the greatest city in the world.</p>
+
+<p>Grandma showed us, the other day, this picture of a view from Cooper's
+Hill, near Windsor, and said, &quot;Many a time and oft, dear children, have
+I stood there by the old fence, and looked down on the beautiful
+prospect,&mdash;the winding Thames, the gardens, the fields, and Windsor
+Castle in the distance.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This noble structure was originally built by William the Conqueror, as
+far back as the eleventh century. It has been embellished by most of the
+succeeding kings and queens. It is the principal residence of Queen
+Victoria in our day. The great park, not far distant, has a circuit of
+eighteen miles; and west from the park is Windsor Forest, having a
+circuit of fifty-six miles.</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 148 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148" />[Pg 148]</span></div>
+
+<p>&quot;It is many a year since I saw these places. I cannot expect to visit
+them again; but this picture brings them vividly before me.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so, dear children, should you ever go to England, don't forget to
+go to Cooper's Hill, and, for grandma's sake, to look round upon the
+charming prospect which she loved so much when a child.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="author">E.W.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="SATURDAY_NIGHT" id="SATURDAY_NIGHT" />SATURDAY NIGHT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Bring on the boots and shoes, Tommy; for this is Saturday night, and I
+must make things clean for Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>Here is my old jacket, to begin with. Whack, whack, whack! As I beat it
+with my stick, how the dust flies!</p>
+
+<p>The jacket looks a little the worse for wear; and that patch in the
+elbow is more for show than use. But it is a good warm jacket still, and
+mother says that next Christmas I shall have a new one.</p>
+
+<p>Whack, whack, whack! I wish Christmas was not so far off. If somebody
+would make me a present now of a handsome new jacket, without a patch in
+it, I should take it as an especial kindness. I do hate to wear patched
+clothes.</p>
+
+<p>Stop there, Master Frank! You deserve to be beaten, instead of your
+jacket. Look in the glass at your fat figure and rosy checks. Are you
+not well fed and well taken care of? Is not good health better than fine
+clothes? Are you the one to complain?</p>
+
+<p>Ah, Frank! Just look at poor Tim Morris, as he goes by in his carriage.
+See his fine rich clothes, and his new glossy hat. But see, too, how
+pale and thin he looks. How gladly would he put on your patched jacket,
+and give you his new one, if he could have your health!</p>
+
+<div><span class="pagenum"><!-- Page 149 --><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149" />[Pg 149]</span></div>
+
+<p class="center">
+<a href="images/21.png"><img src="images/21.png" width="350"
+alt="Saturday Night" title="" />
+</a>
+</p>
+
+<p>Whack, whack, whack! I'm an ungrateful boy. I'll not complain again.
+Christmas may be as long as it pleases in coming. I'll tell mother she
+mustn't pinch herself to buy me a new jacket. I'll tell her this one
+will serve me a long time yet; that I have got used to it, and like it.
+It will look almost as good as new when I get the dust out of it. Whack,
+whack, whack!</p>
+
+<p class="author">UNCLE CHARLES.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div><!-- Page 150 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150" />[Pg 150]</span></div>
+<h2>THE CUCKOO.</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Tell me what bird this is a picture of,&quot; said Arthur.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That,&quot; said Uncle Oscar, &quot;is the cuckoo, a bird which arrives in
+England, generally, about the middle of April, and departs late in June,
+or early in July.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why does it go so early?&quot; asked Arthur.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I think it is because it likes a warm climate; and, as soon as
+autumn draws near, it wants to go back to the woods of Northern Africa.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why is it called the cuckoo?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because the male bird utters a call-note which sounds just like the
+word <i>kuk-oo</i>. In almost every language, this sound has suggested the
+name of the bird. In Greek, it is <i>kokkux</i>; in Latin, <i>coccyx</i>; in
+French, <i>coucou</i>; in German, <i>kukuk</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What does the bird feed on?&quot; asked Arthur.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It feeds on soft insects, hairy caterpillars, and tender fruits.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where does it build its nest?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The cuckoo, I am sorry to say, is not a very honest bird. Instead of
+taking the trouble to build a nest for herself, the female bird lays her
+eggs in the nest of other birds, and to them commits the care of
+hatching and rearing her offspring.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should not call that acting like a good parent,&quot; said Arthur. &quot;Do the
+other birds take care of these young ones that are not their own?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes! they not only take care of them and feed them for weeks, but
+sometimes they even let the greedy young cuckoos push their own children
+out of the nest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's a hard case,&quot; said Arthur. &quot;Is there any American bird that acts
+like the cuckoo?&quot;</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 151 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151" />[Pg 151]</span></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<a href="images/22.png"><img src="images/22.png" width="350" height="467" alt="The Cuckoo" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes!&quot; said Uncle Oscar. &quot;There is a little bird called the
+'cow-bunting,' about as large as a canary-bird: she, too, makes other
+birds hatch her young and take care of them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't like such lazy behavior. Did you ever hear the note of the
+cuckoo?&quot; said Arthur.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes!&quot; replied Uncle Oscar. &quot;I have heard it in England; and there,
+too, I have heard the skylark and the nightingale, neither of which
+birds we have in America. But we have the mocking-bird, one of the most
+wonderful of song-birds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder if the cuckoo would not live in America,&quot; said Arthur. &quot;I
+should like to get one and try it. I would take good care of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would not thrive in this climate, Arthur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="author">UNCLE OSCAR.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div><!-- Page 152 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152" />[Pg 152]</span></div>
+<table style="background: url(images/23.png); height: 923px;" width="600" summary="">
+<tr><td style="width: 200px;">&nbsp;</td><td valign="bottom">
+<h2>WORK AND SING!</h2>
+<div class="center">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>You must work, and I must sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That's the way the birdies do:<br /></span>
+<span>See the workers on the wing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">See the idle singers too.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Yet not wholly idle these,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They the toilers do not wrong;<br /></span>
+<span>For the weary heart they ease<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the rapture of their song.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>If our work of life to cheer<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We no music had, no flowers,<br /></span>
+<span>Life would hardly seem so dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Longer then would drag the hours.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Like the birdies let us be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let us not the singers chide;<br /></span>
+<span>There's a use in all we see:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Work and sing! the world is wide.<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p class="author">EMILY CARTER.</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div><!-- Page 153 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153" />[Pg 153]</span></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<a href="images/24.png"><img src="images/24.png" width="300" height="413" alt="One Year Old" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<h2>ONE YEAR OLD.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Hold her up, mamma, and let us all have a look at her. Is she not a dear
+little thing?</p>
+
+<p>She is not a bit afraid, but only puzzled at being stared at by so many
+people. She does not know what to make of it.</p>
+
+<p>She clutches at her mother's chin, as much as to say, &quot;Tell me what this
+means.&quot;</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 154 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154" />[Pg 154]</span>It means, baby, that you are one year old. This is your birthday, and
+we have come to call on you.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<a href="images/25.png"><img src="images/25.png" width="350" height="450" alt="Nurse, Baby, &amp; Cat" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>But here is Jane, the nurse. Has she come to take you away from us? We
+are not ready to part with you.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 155 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155" />[Pg 155]</span>You want to go with her? Well, that is too bad! You like her better
+than you do me. I must see what she does that makes you so fond of her.</p>
+
+<p>She takes you to the barn, and shows you the horse and the cow. Then she
+lets you look out of the barn-window. There you spy the kitten.</p>
+
+<p>The kitten sees you, and jumps up on the basket, and looks in your face.
+You put out your little hand, and try to reach her.</p>
+
+<p>Jane has the pig and the chickens to show you yet. But I cannot stay any
+longer. I must leave you playing with the kitten.</p>
+
+<p class="author">A. B. C.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div><!-- Page 156 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156" />[Pg 156]</span></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/26.png"><img src="images/26.png" width="600" height="452" alt="My Dog" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<h2>MY DOG.</h2>
+
+
+<p>I have a dog, and his name is Don. He is nine years old. His master is
+in Boston, and I call Don my dog, because I like to have him here. He is
+a black-and-white dog, and measures six feet in length, and about two
+feet in height.</p>
+
+<p>When I go on errands, Don takes the basket or pail, and trots away to
+the store; and sometimes I have to pull him, or he will go the wrong
+way.</p>
+
+<p>He is a lazy old fellow, and he likes to sleep almost all the time,
+except when he is asked if he wants to go anywhere; and then he frisks
+around, and seems as if he had never been asleep.</p>
+
+<p>When he wants a drink, he goes around to the store-room door, and asks
+for it by looking up in our faces; and I dare say he would say, if he
+could speak, &quot;Please give me a drink?&quot;</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 157 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157" />[Pg 157]</span></div>
+
+<p>I have a little brother, and he sits on my dog a good deal. And I have a
+cousin of whom the dog is very fond and when she is at the table, he
+will put his paw on her lap, and want her to take it.</p>
+
+<p>My little baby-brother tumbles over the dog, and sits on him; and
+sometimes when I am tired, I lie down and take a nap with my head on
+Don's back. He likes to have me do it, and he always keeps watch while I
+am asleep.</p>
+
+<p class="author">LYNN, MASS. WILLIE B. MARSHALL.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="MAY" id="MAY" />MAY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>Pretty little violets, waking from your sleep,<br /></span>
+<span>Fragrant little blossoms, just about to peep,<br /></span>
+<span>Would you know the reason all the world is gay?<br /></span>
+<span>Listen to the bobolinks, telling you 'tis May!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Little ferns and grasses, all so green and bright,<br /></span>
+<span>Purple clover nodding, daisies fresh and white,<br /></span>
+<span>Would you know the reason all the world is gay?<br /></span>
+<span>Listen to the bobolinks, telling you 'tis May!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Darling little warblers, coming in the spring,<br /></span>
+<span>Would you know the reason that you love to sing?<br /></span>
+<span>Hear the merry children, shouting as they play,<br /></span>
+<span>&quot;Listen to the bobolinks, telling us 'tis May!&quot;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div><!-- Page 158 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158" />[Pg 158]</span></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/27.png"><img src="images/27.png" width="600" height="451" alt="Dot and The Lemons" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<h2>DOT AND THE LEMONS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Dot's father is a funny man. One night, he brought home some lemons for
+mamma,&mdash;twelve long, fat, yellow lemons, in a bag. Dot was sitting at
+the piano with mamma when his father came in, and did not run, as usual,
+to greet him with a kiss. So Dot's father opened the bag, and let the
+lemons drop one by one, and roll all over the floor.</p>
+
+<p>Then Dot looked around, and cried, &quot;Lemons, lemons! Get down; Dot get
+down!&quot; And he ran and picked up the lemons one by one, and put them all
+together in the great black arm-chair. As he picked them up, he counted
+them: &quot;One, two, three, five, six, seven, nine, ten!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When Dot got tired of seeing them on the chair, he began to put them on
+the floor again, one at a time, and all in one spot. While he was doing
+this, his father stooped down, and when the little boy's back was
+turned, took the lemons, slily from the spot where Dot was placing
+them, and put them behind his own back,&mdash;some behind his right foot, and
+some behind his left.</p>
+
+<div><!-- Page 159 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159" />[Pg 159]</span></div>
+
+<p>He took only a few of them at first, so that Dot should not miss them.
+But, when Dot came to put the last lemon on the floor, he could not see
+any thing of the others, and was very much surprised. Then mamma,
+grandmamma, and grandpapa all burst out laughing. His father stepped
+aside, and there Dot saw the lemons in two rows.</p>
+
+<p>Then father said, &quot;That was only a joke. Now, Dot, put them back again
+on the chair&mdash;quick!&quot; And Dot ran and began to take away the lemons from
+the first row, and lay them on the black cushion of grandpapa's great
+arm-chair, one by one. One&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;five: he had only one more
+lemon to pick up from the first row; but when he came for it&mdash;my! there
+were two.</p>
+
+<p>Well, to tell the truth, Dot didn't notice this at first. He picked up
+one of the two, and thought to himself, &quot;Only one left, Dot.&quot; But, I
+declare! there were <i>two</i> left when he came back. &quot;This is a long row,&quot;
+thought Dot. And every time he left <i>one</i>, he found <i>two</i>, till papa had
+quite used up the second row, from which he had been filling up the
+first.</p>
+
+<p>At last Dot <i>did</i> see the last lemon, and then again he didn't see it,
+for when he looked for it, it wasn't <i>two</i>, as before, it wasn't there
+at all!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O papa! you have it behind you; and Dot will pull at your hand till you
+give up the lemon; and then you can't play any more tricks with your
+bright little boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Dot will go up to bed with Alice, and in the middle of the night
+mamma will hear him saying in his sleep, &quot;Five, six, nine, 'lemon!&quot; For
+Dot always says '<i>lemon,</i> when he means <i>eleven</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="author">G.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div><!-- Page 160 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160" />[Pg 160]</span></div>
+<h2>DADDY DANDELION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Words by T. Hood. Music by T. Crampton</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/28.png"><img src="images/28.png" width="600" height="793" alt="Music" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Allegretto. mf</i></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span>1.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Daddy Dandelion<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was a splendid fellow,<br /></span>
+<span>With a coat of green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And a crest of yellow.<br /></span>
+<span>He had lots of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He was very lazy;<br /></span>
+<span>So he chose to scold<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Modest little Daisy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>2.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>Ah! you silly flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You're to me beholden,<br /></span>
+<span>To your best of power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Aping me the golden.<br /></span>
+<span>Just then some one passed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who his stick was swinging,<br /></span>
+<span>Chopped off Dandelion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stopped his accents stinging.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span>4.<br /></span>
+<span>Daisy at the sight<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dropped a tear for sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span>Closed her leaves that night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Opened on the morrow.<br /></span>
+<span>Gazing with delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">People, all of them,<br /></span>
+<span>Asked her where she found<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Such a sparkling gem.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p><!-- Page 161 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161" />[Pg 161]</span></p>
+
+<h2>COLGATE &amp; CO. NEW YORK</h2>
+
+<h3>VIOLET TOILET WATER.</h3>
+
+<h3>CASHMERE BOUQUET EXTRACT.</h3>
+
+<h3>CASHMERE BOUQUET Toilet Soap.</h3>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Good Commissions or valuable premiums are given to agents for three
+first-class union religious papers and one agricultural monthly.
+Canvassers are making excellent wages. Agents wanted. Send for sample
+copy and terms. Address,</p>
+
+<h4>H.A. KING, Box 2289, N.Y. City.</h4>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h2>AN APRIL FOOL</h2>
+<p>will not subscribe</p>
+<h2>FOR</h2>
+<p>THE RURAL HOME from April 4th to January, but</p>
+<h2>A WISE MAN</h2>
+<p>will, since the subscription for that period&mdash;THIRTY-NINE
+WEEKS&mdash;will cost him only</p>
+
+<h3>ONE DOLLAR, POST-PAID.</h3>
+
+<h3>First-class, Eight-Page, Agricultural and Family Weekly&mdash;$2 a Year.</h3>
+
+<p>Specimens free. Address</p>
+
+<h4>THE RURAL HOME,</h4>
+<p class="center">Rochester, N.Y.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h2>IN PRESS.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+
+<h2>NURSERY PRIMER.</h2>
+
+<p>A book by which children can teach themselves to read, with but little
+help from parent or teacher.</p>
+
+<h3>SUPERBLY AND APTLY ILLUSTRATED.</h3>
+
+<p>The most beautiful Primer in the market. Containing upwards of a hundred
+fine pictures. 96 Pages of the size of The Nursery. The word-system of
+teaching explained and applied.</p>
+
+<h4>JOHN L. SHOREY,</h4>
+
+<p class="center">36 Bromfield Street, Boston.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+<h2>NOTICE.</h2>
+
+<p>Any of the following articles will be sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt
+of the price named, viz:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+The Kindergarten Alphabet and Building Blocks, PAINTED: PRICE<br />
+Roman Alphabets, large and small letters, numerals, and animals, .75<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 1.00</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; 1.50</span><br />
+<br />
+Crandall's Acrobat or Circus Blocks, with which hundreds of queer, fantastic<br />
+figures may be formed by any child, 1.15<br />
+Table-Croquet. This can be used on any table&mdash;making a Croquet-Board, at<br />
+trifling expense 1.50<br />
+Game of Bible Characters and Events .50<br />
+Dissected Map of the United States 1.00<br />
+Boys and Girls Writing-Desk 1.00<br />
+Initial Note-Paper and Envelopes 1.00<br />
+Game of Punch And Judy 1.00<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>BOOKS will be sent postpaid, also, at publishers prices. Send orders and
+remittances to</p>
+
+<h3>JOHN L. SHOREY,</h3>
+
+<h4>Publisher of &quot;The Nursery.&quot;</h4>
+
+<h4>36 Bromfield Street, Boston, Mass.</h4>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p><!-- Page 162 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162" />[Pg 162]</span><b>CONSTANTINES PINE TAR SOAP</b> For Toilet, Bath and Nursery Cures
+Diseases of Skin and Scalp and Mucous Coating. Sold by Druggists and
+Grocers.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<a href="images/29.png"><img src="images/29.png" width="300" height="354" alt="" title="" />
+</a>
+</div>
+
+<p>FRAGRANT SOZODONT</p>
+
+<p>Is a composition of the purest and choicest ingredients of the vegetable
+kingdom. It cleanses, beautifies, and preserves the <b>TEETH</b>, hardens and
+invigorates the gums, and cools and refreshes the mouth. Every
+ingredient of this <b>Balsamic</b> dentifrice has a beneficial effect on the
+<b>Teeth</b> and <b>Gums</b>. <b>Impure Breath</b>, caused by neglected teeth, catarrh,
+tobacco, or spirits, is not only neutralized, but rendered fragrant, by
+the daily use of <b>SOZODONT</b>. It is as harmless as water, and has been
+indorsed by the most scientific men of the day.</p>
+
+<p><b>Sold by all Druggists, at 75 cents.</b></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h2>AGENTS' GUIDE</h2>
+
+<p>Tells who want agents, and what for. 8 page monthly,
+10c. a year postpaid. Jas. P. Scott, 125 Clark-st., Chicago.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h2>SEEDS AND BULBS.</h2>
+
+<p>ILLUSTRATED SPRING CATALOGUE FOR 1875. NOW READY.</p>
+
+<p>Sent, with a specimen copy of THE AMERICAN GARDEN, a new Illustrated
+Journal of Garden Art, edited by James Hogg, on receipt of ten cents.</p>
+
+<p><b>BEACH, SON &amp; CO., Seedsmen,</b> 76 Fulton St., Brooklyn, N.Y.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h2>MAUCK'S HERALD.</h2>
+
+<h3>A $3 Weekly for $2.</h3>
+
+<h4>8 LARGE PAGES, 48 LONG COLUMNS.</h4>
+
+<p>Each, number is complete, and everybody likes it. Gives a weekly record
+of the world's doings. In its columns will be found a choice variety of
+Gems in every department of Literature, of interest to the general
+reader. Its contents embrace the best Stories, Tales of Adventure,
+Thrilling Deeds, Startling Episodes, Sketches of Home and Social Life,
+Sketches of Travel, Instructive Papers on Science and Art, Interesting
+Articles on Agriculture, Horticulture, Gardening and Housekeeping,
+Choice Poetry, Essays, Correspondence, Anecdotes, Wit and Humor,
+Valuable Recipes, Market Reviews, Items of Interesting and Condensed
+Miscellany. Free from Sectarianism, there is always something to please
+all classes of readers, both grave and gay.</p>
+
+<p>As a Family Paper, it has merits that no similar publication possesses.
+The large amount and great variety of popular and valuable reading
+matter in each number is not excelled by any other paper.</p>
+
+<p>Sample 6 cents; with two chromos, 25 cents. $2 a year. Try it three
+months for 50 cents. Say where you saw this. Value and satisfaction
+guaranteed. More agents and subscribers wanted everywhere.</p>
+
+<h3>The Nursery and Mauck's Herald,</h3>
+
+<p>Both one year, postpaid, for $2.25.</p>
+
+<p class="center">Address L.W. MAUCK, Cheshire, Ohio.</p>
+
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>30 FANCY CALLING CARDS, 9 styles, 20 cts. with names, or 40 Blank Scroll
+Cards 5 designs and colors 20 cts. Outfit 19 styles 10 cts. Address J.B.
+HUSTED, Nassau, Kens Co., N.Y.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>$57.60 <b>Agents' Profits per week</b>. Will prove it or forfeit $500. New
+articles are just patented. Samples sent free to all. Address W.H.
+CHIDESTER, 267 Broadway, N.Y.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>FREE Sample copy of <b>CHEAPEST PAPER IN AMERICA!</b> Eight large pages,
+(<i>Ledger</i> size.) Monthly; only 50 cents a year. Choice Reading, Nice
+Premiums. AGENTS WANTED. <b>LITERARY REPORTER</b>, Quincy, Mich.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h2>SPELLING CHAMPIONS ATTENTION!</h2>
+
+<h3>Sargents Pronouncing Spelling-Book.</h3>
+
+<p>The most elaborate work of the kind, contains an &quot;Alphabetical Index of
+Representative words, <i>such as are liable to be misspelled or
+mispronounced</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>These words are not technical absurdities, such as no one uses, but
+honest useful words, which every scholar ought to know.</p>
+
+<p>No better collection to test spellers at the matches now in vogue can be
+found.</p>
+
+<p>Price 32 cents, postpaid. Published by</p>
+
+<h4>JOHN L. SHOREY,</h4>
+
+<h4>36 Bromfield Street, Boston.</h4>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h2>PRETTY PAPERS FOR PAPER DOLLS.</h2>
+
+<p>Send 15 cents, and get 20 varieties by
+mail. C.W. JENCKS &amp; BRO., Providence, R.I.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+<h2>THE NURSERY</h2>
+
+<div><!-- Page 163 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163" />[Pg 163]</span></div>
+
+<h3>PREMIUM-LIST for 1875.</h3>
+
+<p>For three new subscribers, at $1.60 each, we will give any one of the
+following articles: a heavily-plated gold pencil-case, a rubber
+pencil-case with gold tips, silver fruit-knife, a pen-knife, a beautiful
+wallet, any book worth $1.50. For five, at $1.60 each, any one of the
+following: globe microscope, silver fruit-knife, silver napkin-ring,
+book or books worth $2.50. For six, at $1.60 each, we will give any one
+of the following: a silver fruit-knife (marked), silver napkin-ring,
+pen-knives, scissors, backgammon-board, note-paper and envelopes stamped
+with initials, books worth $3.00. For ten, at $1.60 each, select any one
+of the following: morocco travelling-bag, stereoscope with six views,
+silver napkin-ring, compound microscope, lady's work-box, sheet-music or
+books worth $5.00. For twenty, at $1.60 each, select any one of the
+following: a fine croquet-set, a powerful opera-glass, a toilet case,
+Webster's Dictionary (unabridged), sheet-music or books worth $10.00.</p>
+
+<p><b>Any other articles equally easy to transport may be selected as
+premiums, their value being in proportion to the number of subscribers
+sent. Thus, we will give for three new subscribers, at $1.60 each, a
+premium worth $1.50; for four, a premium worth $2.00; for five, a
+premium worth $2.50; and so on.</b></p>
+
+<p>BOOKS for premiums may be selected from any publisher's catalogue; and
+we can always supply them at catalogue prices. Under this offer,
+subscriptions to any periodical or newspaper are included.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h2>SPECIAL OFFERS.</h2>
+
+<p>BOOKS.&mdash;For two new subscribers, at $1.60 each, we will give any
+<i>half-yearly</i> volume of THE NURSERY; for three, any <i>yearly</i> volume; for
+two, OXFORD'S JUNIOR SPEAKER; for two, THE EASY BOOK; for two, THE
+BEAUTIFUL BOOK; for three, OXFORD'S SENIOR SPEAKER; for three, SARGENT'S
+ORIGINAL DIALOGUES; for three, an elegant edition of SHAKSPEARE,
+complete in one volume, full cloth, extra gilt, and gilt-edged; or any
+one of the standard BRITISH POETS, in the same style. GLOBES.&mdash;For two
+new subscribers, we will give a beautiful GLOBE three inches in
+diameter; for three, a GLOBE four inches in diameter; for five, a GLOBE
+six inches in diameter. PRANG'S CHROMOS will be given as premiums at the
+publisher's prices. Send stamp for a catalogue. GAMES, &amp;c.&mdash;For two new
+subscribers, we will give any one of the following: The Checkered Game
+of Life, Alphabet and Building Blocks, Dissected Maps, &amp;c., &amp;c. For
+three new subscribers, any one of the following: Japanese Backgammon or
+Kakeba, Alphabet and Building Blocks (extra). Croquet, Chivalrie, Ring
+Quoits, and any other of the popular games of the day may be obtained on
+the most favorable terms, by working for THE NURSERY. Send stamp to us
+for descriptive circulars.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h3>MARSHALL'S ENGRAVED PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN AND GRANT.</h3>
+
+<p>Either of these large and superbly executed steel engravings will be
+sent, postpaid, as a premium for three new subscribers at $1.60 each.</p>
+
+<p>Do not wait to make up the whole list before sending. Send the
+subscriptions as you get them, stating that they are to go to your
+credit for a premium; and, when your list is completed, select your
+premium, and it will be forthcoming.</p>
+
+<p><i>Take notice that our offers of premiums apply only to subscriptions
+paid at the full price: viz., $1.60 a year. We do not offer premiums for
+subscriptions supplied at club-rates. We offer no premiums for one
+subscription only. We offer no premiums in money</i>.</p>
+
+<h3>Address, JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 Bromfield St., Boston.</h3>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+<div><!-- Page 164 --><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164" />[Pg 164]</span></div>
+<h3>TERMS&mdash;1875.</h3>
+
+<p><b>SUBSCRIPTIONS</b>,&mdash;$1.60 a year, in advance. Three copies for 4.30 a
+year; four for $5.40; five for $6.50; six for $7.60: seven fur $8.70;
+eight for $9.80; nine for $10.90; each additional copy for $1.20; twenty
+copies for $22.00, always in advance.</p>
+
+<p>POSTAGE is included in the above rates. All magazines are sent postpaid.</p>
+
+<p>A SINGLE NUMBER will be mailed for 15 cents. <i>One sample number will be
+mailed for 10 cents</i>.</p>
+
+<p>VOLUMES begin with January and July. Subscriptions may commence with any
+month, but, unless the time is specified, will date from the beginning
+of the current volume.</p>
+
+<p>BACK NUMBERS can always be supplied. <i>The Magazine commenced January</i>,
+1867.</p>
+
+<p>BOUND VOLUMES, each containing the numbers for six months, will be sent
+by mail, postpaid, for $1.00 per volume; yearly volumes for $1.75.</p>
+
+<p>COVERS, for half-yearly volume, postpaid, 35 cents; covers for yearly
+volume, 40 cents,</p>
+
+<p>PRICES OF BINDING.&mdash;In the regular half-yearly volume, 40 cents; in one
+yearly volume (12 Nos. in one), 50 cents. If the volumes are to be
+returned by mail, add 14 cents for the half-yearly, and 22 cents for the
+yearly volume, to pay postage.</p>
+
+<p>REMITTANCES may be made at our risk, if made by check, or money-order.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h3>IN CLUB WITH OTHER PERIODICALS.</h3>
+
+<p>(ALL POSTPAID.)</p>
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>Scribner's Monthly</td><td align='left'>$4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>$4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Harper's Monthly</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Harper's Weekly</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Harper's Bazar</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Atlantic Monthly</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Galaxy</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Old and New</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Lippincott's Magazine</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Appleton's Journal</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Living Age</td><td align='left'>8.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>9.00</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Phrenological Journal</td><td align='left'>3.10, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.00</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Science of Health</td><td align='left'>2.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>3.10</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Sanitarian</td><td align='left'>3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.00</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>St. Nicholas</td><td align='left'>$3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>$4.00</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Household</td><td align='left'>1.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>2.20</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Mother's Journal</td><td align='left'>2.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>3.25</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Demorest's Monthly</td><td align='left'>3.10, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.25</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Little Corporal</td><td align='left'>1.50, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>2.70</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Leslie's Illustrated</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Optic's Magazine</td><td align='left'>3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.25</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Lady's Journal</td><td align='left'>4.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.75</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Godey's Lady's Book</td><td align='left'>3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.00</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Hearth and Home</td><td align='left'>3.00, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>4.00</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Young People's Mag.</td><td align='left'>1.50, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>2.70</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Horticulturist</td><td align='left'>2.10, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>3.20</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Ladies Floral Cabinet</td><td align='left'>1.30, and The Nursery,</td><td align='left'>2.60</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>N.B.&mdash;When any of these Magazines is desired in club with &quot;The Nursery&quot;
+at the above rates, both Magazines must be subscribed for at the <i>same
+time</i>; but they need not be to the same address. We furnish our own
+Magazine, and agree to pay the subscription for the other. Beyond this
+we take no responsibility. The publisher of each Magazine is responsible
+for its prompt delivery; and complaints must be addressed accordingly.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h3>NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS</h3>
+
+<p>The number of the Magazine with which your subscription <i>expires</i> is
+indicated by the number annexed to the address on the printed label.
+When no such number appears, it will be understood that the subscription
+ends with the current year. <b>No notice of discontinuance need be given,
+as the Magazine is never sent after the term of subscription expires.</b>
+Subscribers will oblige us by sending their renewals promptly. State
+always that your payment is for a <i>renewal</i>, when such is the fact. In
+changing the direction, the <i>old</i> as well as the <i>new</i> address should be
+given. The sending of &quot;The Nursery&quot; will be regarded as a sufficient
+receipt.</p>
+
+<h4>Any one not receiving it will please notify us immediately, giving date
+of remittance.</h4>
+
+<h3>ADDRESS, JOHN L. SHOREY, 36 Bromfield St., Boston, Mass.</h3>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14335 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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