diff options
Diffstat (limited to '16073.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 16073.txt | 4767 |
1 files changed, 4767 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/16073.txt b/16073.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7a18110 --- /dev/null +++ b/16073.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4767 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Wreaths of Friendship, by T. S. Arthur and F. +C. Woodworth + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Wreaths of Friendship + A Gift for the Young + + +Author: T. S. Arthur and F. C. Woodworth + + + +Release Date: June 15, 2005 [eBook #16073] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WREATHS OF FRIENDSHIP*** + + +E-text prepared by Rudy Ketterer, Jason Isbell, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) from page +images generously made available by Internet Archive and the University of +Florida + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 16073-h.htm or 16073-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/0/7/16073/16073-h/16073-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/0/7/16073/16073-h.zip) + + Images of the original pages are available through the Florida + Board of Education, Division of Colleges and Universities, + PALMM Project, 2001. (Preservation and Access for American and + British Children's Literature, 1850-1869.) See + http://fulltext10.fcla.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=juv&idno=UF00001794&format=jpg + or + http://fulltext10.fcla.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=juv&idno=UF00001794&format=pdf + + + + + +WREATHS OF FRIENDSHIP: + +A Gift for the Young + +by + +T. S. ARTHUR and F. C. WOODWORTH + +New York: +Charles Scribner, +36 Park Row, And 145 Nassau St. +Stereotyped by Baker & Palmer +11 Spruce Street. + +1851 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Wreaths of Friendship] + + +[Illustration: TOKENS OF AFFECTION. (See Page 207.)] + + + + + +Preface. + + +Young friends--stop a moment. We have set up a sort of turnpike gate +here, as you see, between the title-page and the first story in our +book, in the shape of a preface, or introduction. "What! do you mean to +take toll of us, then?" Why, no--not exactly. But we want to say half a +dozen words to you, as you pass along, and to tell you a little about +these WREATHS which we have been twining for our friends. So you need +not be in quite so great a hurry. Wait a minute. + +You have no doubt noticed that it is a very common thing for an author +to take up several of the first pages of his book with apologies to his +readers. First, perhaps, he apologizes for writing at all; and secondly, +for writing so poorly--just as if it was a crime to make a book, for +which crime the author must get down on his knees, and humbly beg the +public's pardon. We think we shall not take this course, on the whole, +for this reason, if for no other--that we do not feel very guilty about +what we have done. But as the plan of our book is somewhat new, we have +been thinking it would be well enough, in introducing it to you, at +least to tell how we came to make it. + +We have both of us published a good deal, in one way and another, for +young people; and we got a notion--a very pleasant one, certainly, and +rather natural, withal, whether well founded or not--that among that +class of the public composed of boys and girls, we had a pretty +respectable number of friends. Under this impression, we put our heads +together, one day, and made up our minds to invite these friends of +ours, every one of them, to a kind of festival, and that we would share +equally in the pleasure of giving the entertainment. The book, reader, +which we have named WREATHS OF FRIENDSHIP, as perhaps you have already +guessed, grew out of that plan of ours. + +We have not, as you will perceive, indicated the authorship of the tales +and sketches, as they appear; and those readers who have any curiosity +in this matter, are referred to the index. + +We hope the volume will please you. More than this: we hope it will +prove to be useful--useful for the future as well as for the present +life; and, indeed, if it had not been for this hope, much as we love to +entertain our young friends, these Wreaths would never have been twined +by our hands. + +We have little else to add, except the fondest wishes of our hearts; +and, to tell the truth, it was to express to you these kind wishes--to +give you something like a hearty shake of the hand--rather than because +we had any thing of importance to say in our preface, that we stopped +you at the outset. + + THE AUTHORS. + + + + + +Contents + + Authors. Page. + + What shall we Build? T.S.A. 13 + The Two Cousins F.C.W. 16 + A Noble Act T.S.A. 28 + The Word of God T.S.A. 35 + Harsh Words and Kind Words T.S.A. 36 + The Herons and the Herrings F.C.W. 41 + Early Spring Flowers F.C.W. 43 + Temptation Resisted T.S.A. 51 + Evening Prayer T.S.A. 61 + Stretching the Truth F.C.W. 63 + The City Pigeon T.S.A. 67 + A Day in the Woods T.S.A. 72 + The Spider and the Honey Bee F.C.W. 81 + Emma Lee and her Sixpence T.S.A. 88 + Uncle Roderick's Stories F.C.W. 93 + Honesty the Best Policy F.C.W. 94 + How a Rogue Feels when he is Caught F.C.W. 97 + The Weekly Newspaper F.C.W. 100 + The Cider Plot F.C.W. 103 + My First Hunting Excursion F.C.W. 107 + Saturday in Winter T.S.A. 111 + Rover and his Little Master T.S.A. 113 + Something Wrong T.S.A. 117 + The Favorite Child F.C.W. 121 + The Mine T.S.A. 129 + The Miner T.S.A. 132 + Visit to Fairy Land F.C.W. 135 + The Hermit T.S.A. 143 + A Picture T.S.A. 147 + The Boy and the Robin F.C.W. 150 + Something about Conscience F.C.W. 152 + Old Ned T.S.A. 166 + The Freed Butterfly T.S.A. 175 + Julia and Her Birds F.C.W. 177 + The Song of the Snow Bird T.S.A. 185 + How to Avoid a Quarrel T.S.A. 189 + Passing for More than One is Worth F.C.W. 197 + The Lament of the Invalid F.C.W. 205 + The Use of Flowers T.S.A. 207 + Sliding Down Hill F.C.W. 211 + A Garden Overrun with Weeds T.S.A. 217 + Disappointment Sometimes a Blessing F.C.W. 221 + The Old Man at the Cottage Door T.S.A. 232 + Story of a Stolen Pen F.C.W. 234 + + + + + + WREATHS. + WHAT SHALL WE BUILD? + + +Four children were playing on the sea-shore. They had gathered bright +pebbles and beautiful shells, and written their names in the pure, white +sand; but at last, tired of their sport, they were about going home, when +one of them, as they came to a pile of stones, cried out: + +"Oh! let us build a fort; and we will call that ship away out there, an +enemy's vessel, and make believe we are firing great cannon balls into +her!" + +"Yes, yes! let us build a fort," responded Edward, the other lad. + +And the two boys--for two were boys and two girls--ran off to the pile of +stones, and began removing them to a place near the water. + +"Come, Anna and Jane," said they, "come and help us." + +"Oh, no. Don't let us build a fort," said Jane. + +[Illustration: WHAT SHALL WE BUILD?] + +"Yes; we will build a fort," returned the boys. "What else can we build? +You wouldn't put a house down here upon the water's edge?" + +"No; but I'll tell you what we can build, and it will be a great deal +better than a fort." + +"Well; what can we build?" + +"A light-house," said the girls; "and that will be just as much in place on +the edge of the sea as a fort. We can call the ship yonder a vessel lost in +the darkness, and we will hang out a light and direct her in the true way. +Won't that be much better than to call her an enemy, and build a fort to +destroy her? See how beautifully she sits upon and glides over the smooth +water! Her sails are like the open wings of a bird, and they bear her +gracefully along. Would it not be cruel to shoot great balls into her +sides, tear her sails to pieces, and kill the men who are on board of her? +Oh! I am sure it would make us all happier to save her when in darkness and +danger. No, no; let us not build a fort, but a light-house; for it is +better to save than to destroy." + +The girls spoke with tenderness and enthusiasm, and their words reached the +better feelings of their companions. + +"Oh, yes," said they; "we will build a light-house, and not a fort." And +they did so. + +Yes, it is much better to save than to destroy. Think of that, children, +and let it go with you through life. Be more earnest to save your friends +than to destroy your enemies. And yet, when a real enemy comes, and seeks +to do evil, be brave to resist him. + + + + + THE TWO COUSINS; + OR, HOW TO ACT WHEN "THINGS GO WRONG." + + +"There, mother, I knew it would be so. Lucy Wallace has just sent over to +tell me she can't walk out in the woods with me. There's no use in my +trying to please any body--there's no use in it. I'm an odd sort of a +creature, it seems. Nobody loves me. It always was so. Oh, dear! I wish I +knew what I had done to make the girls hate me so!" + +This not very good-natured speech was made by a little girl, whom I shall +call Angeline Standish. She was some ten or twelve years old, as near as I +can recollect. Perhaps my readers would like to know something about the +occasion which called for this speech; but it is a long story, and hardly +worth telling. The truth is, when little boys and girls get very angry, or +peevish, or fretful, they sometimes blow out a great deal of ill-humor, +something after the manner that an overcharged steam boiler lets off +steam--with this difference, however, that the steam boiler gets cooler by +the operation, while the boy or girl gets more heated. The throat is a poor +safety-valve for ill-humor; and it is bad business, this setting the tongue +agoing at such a rate, whenever the mercury in one's temper begins to rise +toward the boiling point. + +As is usual, in such cases, Angeline felt worse after these words had +whistled through the escape pipe of her ill-nature, than she did before; +and, for want of something else to do, she commenced crying. She was not +angry--that is, not altogether so--though the spirit she showed was a +pretty good imitation of anger, it must be confessed. She was peevish. +Matters had not gone right with her that day. She was crossed in this thing +and that thing. Her new hat had not come home from the milliner's, as she +expected; one of her frocks had just got badly torn; she had a hard lesson +to learn; and I cannot repeat the whole catalogue of her miseries. So she +fretted, and stormed, and cried, and felt just as badly as she chose. + +Not long after the crying spell was over, and there was a little blue sky +in sight, Jeannette Forrest, a cousin of Angeline's, came running into the +room, her face all lighted up with smiles, and threw her arms around her +cousin's neck, and kissed her. This was no uncommon thing with Jeannette. +She had a very happy and a very affectionate disposition. Every body loved +her, and she loved every body. + +One not acquainted with Angeline, might very naturally suppose that she +would return her cousin's embrace. But she did no such thing. Her manner +was quite cool and distant. Human nature is a strange compound, is it not? + +"Why, cousin," said the light-hearted Jeannette, "what is the matter? You +are not well, are you?" + +"Yes, well enough," the other replied, rather crustily. Take care, +Angeline, there's a cloud coming over your cousin's face. Speak a kind word +or two, now. Then the sun will beam out again, brightly as ever. Jeannette +was silent for a moment, for she was astonished, and did not know what to +make of her cousin's manner. It would have appeared uncivil and rude to +most little girls. But the sweet spirit of Jeannette--loving, hoping, +trusting--was differently affected. She saw only the brighter side of the +picture. So the bee, as she flies merrily from flower to flower, finds a +store of honey where others would find only poison. + +"Dear Angeline," said her cousin, at length, "I'm sure something is the +matter. Tell me what it is, won't you? Oh, I should love to make you happy, +if I only knew how!" + +Angeline seemed scarcely to hear these words of love. That is strange +enough, I hear you say. So it is, perhaps, and it may be stranger still, +that she read not the language of love and sympathy that was written so +plainly in her cousin's countenance. It is true, though, for all that. She +did not say much of any thing to this inquiry--she simply muttered, between +her teeth, + +"I don't believe any body loves me." + +Jeannette was no philosopher. She could not read essays nor preach sermons. +Her argument to convince her cousin that there was, at least, one who loved +her, was drawn from the heart, rather than from the head. It was very +brief, and very much to the point. She burst into tears, and sobbed, + +"Don't say so, dear." + +Jeannette could not stay long. Her mother had sent her on an errand, and +told her she must make haste back. Perhaps it was as well that she could +not stay--and perhaps not. Human nature is a strange sort of compound, as I +said before; and it may be that the ice which had covered over the streams +leading from Angeline's heart would not have melted under the influence +even of the warm sun that, for a moment or two, beamed upon them so kindly. +For one, however, I should like to know what would have come out of that +conversation, if it had been allowed to go on. Jeannette went home, and +Angeline was again left to her own reflections, which were any thing but +pleasant. It was Saturday afternoon; and, there being no school, she had +hoped to be able to ramble in the woods with some of her little companions. +But here she was disappointed, too, and this increased her peevishness; +though the reason why she could not go was, because she did not learn her +lesson in season, and that was her own fault. Toward night, when Mrs +Standish had leisure to sit down to her sewing, she called Angeline, and +reminded her of the ill-natured spirit she had shown in the early part of +the afternoon. The child was rather ashamed of what she had said, it is +true; but she tried to excuse her conduct. + +"Every thing went wrong to-day, mother," she said; "I couldn't help feeling +so. Oh, dear! I don't see how any body can be good, when things go in this +way--I mean any body but Jeannette. I wish I was like her. It is easy for +her to be good." + +"Your cousin has, no doubt, a very different disposition from yours," said +the mother. "But it is much easier for you to be always good-natured and +happy than you suppose, Angeline." + +"I wish I knew how, mother." + +"Well, you say things went wrong with you this afternoon. I think I know +what some of these things were. They were not so pleasant as they might +have been, certainly. They were troublesome. But don't you think the +greatest trouble of all was in your own heart?" + +"No, ma'am. I was well enough until the things began to go wrong; and then +I felt bad, and I couldn't help it." + +Mrs Standish laughed, as she said, "So, then, as soon as the things begin +to go wrong, you take the liberty to go wrong too. Every thing works well +inside, until it is disturbed by something outside?" + +"That is it, mother." + +"And when the things inside go smoothly, because every thing is smooth +outside, you have a very good and happy disposition?" + +"Pretty good, I think." + +"And so, when there is a hurricane inside, because the wind blows rather +more than usual outside, you are cross, and unhappy, and bad enough to make +up for being so good before?" + +"Yes, ma'am, I am afraid I am, sometimes." + +"No, my child, you are wrong, all wrong. If all was right inside, the other +things you speak of would not disturb you so, if they should happen to go +wrong." + +"Why, mother, wouldn't they disturb me at all?" + +"They might, occasionally, but not near as much. Do you remember that our +clock went wrong last winter?" + +"Yes, ma'am; we couldn't tell what time it was, and it used to strike all +sorts of ways." + +"What do you suppose made the clock act so, Angeline? It goes well enough +now, you know." + +"I believe Mr Mercer said one of the wheels was out of order." + +"That was all. It was not the weather--not because we forgot to wind it +up--not because things did not go right in the room. Now, your mind is +something like a clock. If it is kept in order, it will run pretty well, I +guess--no matter whether it rains or shines--whether it is winter or +summer. Milton says, very beautifully, in his poem called the 'Paradise +Lost,' + + "'The mind is its own place, and of itself + Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.' + +"He means by this, that our happiness or unhappiness depends more upon what +is within us than it does upon what is without. And he is right. Do you +understand, my child?" + +"I understand what you mean, but it is not so easy to see how I am to go to +work and be good all the time, like cousin Jeannette. I'm not like her, +mother, and I never can be like her, I know." + +"True, you will always be very unlike your cousin. But I don't know of any +thing to hinder your being as good and amiable as she is, for all that." + +"Oh, mother! I'd give every thing in the world, if I only knew how!" + +"I think you can learn, my child, with much less expense; though, to be +sure, you will have to give up some things that perhaps you will find it +hard to part with. You will be obliged to give up some of your bad habits." + +"That would be easy enough." + +"Not so easy as you think, it may be. It is a good deal easier to let a bad +habit come in, than it is to turn one out. But 'where there's a will, +there's a way,' you know." + +"Well, mother, what shall I do? I should like to begin pretty soon, for +scarcely any body loves me now," + +"Before you learn much, it might be well to unlearn a little. When any +thing goes wrong, as you say, you must, at least, not make it go worse. You +must not make every body around you unhappy, if you do feel a little cross +and peevish." + +"Oh, mother, I can't speak pleasantly when I don't feel so." + +"Then, in most cases, you had better not speak at all." + +"I never thought of that. I can stop talking, if I try." + +"So you can, and you can do more. You can get into the habit of finding +'the south or sunny side of things,' as Jean Paul says, and if you do, you +will not be likely to have a snow-storm in your heart very often. Besides, +you ought to remember, that all these disappointments and crosses are a +part of your education for heaven, and you should endeavor to improve them +as such, so that their good effect will not be lost. And another thing, my +child: you ought to ask God to assist you in this self-government--to make +you his child--to give you a new heart--to teach you to love Christ, and to +be like him. Then you will seldom feel cross and fretful, because things go +wrong. You will be cheerful and good-natured. You will make others +happy--and you will very soon forget the old story, that nobody loves you." + +Now, many little boys and girls--possibly some who read this story--would +have thought this task too hard. They would have regarded it as a pretty +severe penance. Perhaps they would have concluded, after having put all +these difficult things into one scale, and the thing to be gained by them +into the other, that the reward was not worth so great a sacrifice. So +thought not Angeline, however. She began the work in earnest, that very +day. She went over to her uncle's, with an unusual amount of sunshine in +her countenance, and made it all right with Jeannette. In the evening, she +told her little brother James what she intended to do, and invited him to +help her; and before they retired to rest that night, they knelt down +together and offered up a prayer, that God, for Christ's sake, would help +them in governing themselves. + +One day--perhaps some six weeks after this--Mrs Standish said, smilingly, +to her daughter, + +"Well, my dear, does Lucy Wallace love you any better?" + +"Oh, mother," said Angeline, as a tear of joy stood in her eye, "every body +loves me now!" + + + + + A NOBLE ACT. + + +"What have you there, boys?" asked Captain Bland. + +"A ship," replied one of the lads who were passing the captain's neat +cottage. + +"A ship! Let me see;" and the captain took the little vessel, and examined +it with as much fondness as a child does a pretty toy. "Very fair, indeed; +who made it?" + +"I did," replied one of the boys. + +"You, indeed! Do you mean to be a sailor, Harry?" + +"I don't know. I want father to get me into the navy." + +"As a midshipman?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Captain Bland shook his head. + +"Better be a farmer, a physician, or a merchant." + +"Why so, captain?" asked Harry; + +"All these are engaged in the doing of things directly useful to society." + +"But I am sure, captain, that those who defend us against our enemies, and +protect all who are engaged in commerce from wicked pirates, are doing what +is useful to society." + +"Their use, my lad," replied Captain Bland, "is certainly a most important +one; but we may call it rather negative than positive. The civilian is +engaged in building up and sustaining society in doing good, through his +active employment, to his fellow-man. But military and naval officers do +not produce any thing; they only protect and defend." + +"But if they did not protect and defend, captain, evil men would destroy +society. It would be of no use for the civilian to endeavor to build up, if +there were none to fight against the enemies of the state." + +"Very true, my lad. The brave defender of his country cannot be dispensed +with, and we give him all honor. Still, the use of defence and protection +is not so high as the use of building up and sustaining. The thorn that +wounds the hand stretched forth to pluck the flower, is not so much +esteemed, nor of so much worth, as the blossom it was meant to guard. +Still, the thorn performs a great use. Precisely a similar use does the +soldier or naval officer perform to society; and it will be for you, my +lad, to decide as to which position you would rather fill." + +"I never thought of that, captain," said one of the lads. "But I can see +clearly how it is. And yet I think those men who risk their lives for us in +war, deserve great honor. They leave their homes, and remain away, +sometimes for years, deprived of all the comforts and blessings that +civilians enjoy, suffering frequently great hardships, and risking their +lives to defend their country from her enemies." + +"It is all as you say," replied Captain Bland; "and they do, indeed, +deserve great honor. Their calling is one that exposes them to imminent +peril, and requires them to make many sacrifices; and they encounter not +this peril and sacrifice for their own good, but for the good of others. +Their lives do not pass so evenly as do the lives of men who spend their +days in the peaceful pursuits of business, art, or literature; and we could +hardly wonder if they lost some of the gentler attributes of the human +heart. In some cases, this is so; but in very many cases the reverse is +true. We find the man who goes fearlessly into battle, and there, in +defence of his country, deals death and destruction unsparingly upon her +enemies, acting, when occasion offers, from the most humane sentiments, and +jeopardizing his life to save the life of a single individual. Let me +relate to you a true story in illustration of what I say. + +"When the unhappy war that has been waged by our troops in Mexico broke +out, a lieutenant in the navy, who had a quiet berth at Washington, felt it +to be his duty to go to the scene of strife, and therefore asked to be +ordered to the Gulf of Mexico. His request was complied with, and he +received orders to go on board the steamer Mississippi, Commodore Perry, +then about to sail from Norfolk to Vera Cruz. + +"Soon after the Mississippi arrived out, and before the city and castle +were taken, a terrible 'norther' sprung up, and destroyed much shipping in +the harbor. One vessel, on which were a number of passengers, was thrown +high upon a reef, and when morning broke, the heavy sea was making a clear +breach through her. She lay about a mile from the Mississippi, and it soon +became known on board the steamer, that a mother and her infant were in the +wreck, and that unless succor came speedily, they would perish. The +lieutenant of whom I speak, immediately ordered out a boat's crew, and +although the sea was rolling tremendously, and the 'norther' still blowing +a hurricane, started to the rescue. Right in the teeth of the wind were the +men compelled to pull their boat, and so slowly did they progress, that it +took over two hours to gain the wreck. + +"At one time, they actually gave out, and the oars lay inactive in their +hands. At this crisis, the brave but humane officer, pointing with one hand +to the fortress of San Juan de Ulloa, upon which a fire had already +commenced, and with the other to the wreck, exclaimed, with noble +enthusiasm, + +"'Pull away, men! I would rather save the life of that woman and her child, +than have the honor of taking the castle!' + +"Struck by the noble, unselfish, and truly humane feelings of their +officer, the crew bent with new vigor to their oars. In a little while the +wreck was gained, and the brave lieutenant had the pleasure of receiving +into his arms the almost inanimate form of the woman, who had been lashed +to the deck, and over whom the waves had been beating, at intervals, all +night. + +"In writing home to his friends, after the excitement of the adventure was +over, the officer spoke of the moment when he rescued that mother and child +from the wreck as the proudest of his life. + +"Afterward he took part in the bombardment of Vera Cruz, and had command, +in turn, of the naval battery, where he faithfully and energetically +performed his duty as an officer in the service of his country. He was +among the first of those who entered the captured city; but pain, not +pleasure, filled his mind, as he looked around, and saw death and +destruction on every hand. Victory had perched upon our banners; the arms +of our country had been successful; the officer had bravely contributed his +part in the work; but he frankly owns that he experienced far more delight +in saving the woman he had borne from the wreck, than he could have felt +had he been the commander of the army that reduced the city. + +"Wherever duty calls, my lads," concluded the captain, "you will find that +brave officer. He will never shrink from the post of danger, if his country +have need of him; nor will he ever be deaf to the appeal of humanity; but +so long as he is a true man, just so long will he delight more in saving +than in destroying." + + + + + + THE WORD OF GOD. + + +Henry, what book is that you have in your hand?" + +"It is the Bible, mother," + +"Oh, no, it cannot be, surely!" + +"Why, yes it is--see!" + +"And my little boy to treat so roughly the book containing God's holy +word!" + +Henry's face grew serious. + +"Oh, I forgot!" he said, and went and laid the good book carefully away. + +"Try and not forget again, my son. If you treat this book so lightly now, +you may, when you become a man, as lightly esteem its holy truths; and then +you could never live in heaven with the angels. No one goes to heaven who +does not love and reverence the Word of God, which is holy in every jot and +tittle." + + + + + + HARSH WORDS AND KIND WORDS. + + +William Baker, and his brother Thomas and sister Ellen, were playing on the +green lawn in front of their mother's door, when a lad named Henry Green +came along the road, and seeing the children enjoying themselves, opened +the gate and came in. He was rather an ill-natured boy, and generally took +more pleasure in teasing and annoying others, than in being happy with +them. When William saw him coming in through the gate, he called to him and +said, in a harsh way, + +"You may just clear out, Henry Green, and go about your business! We don't +want you here." + +But Henry did not in the least regard what William said. He came directly +forward, and joined in the sport as freely as if he had been invited +instead of repulsed. In a little while he began to pull Ellen about rudely, +and to push Thomas, so as nearly to throw them down upon the grass. + +"Go home, Henry Green! Nobody sent for you! Nobody wants you here!" said +William Baker, in quite an angry tone. + +It was of no use, however. William might as well have spoken to the wind. +His words were entirely unheeded by Henry, whose conduct became ruder and +more offensive. + +Mrs Baker, who sat at the window, saw and heard all that was passing. As +soon as she could catch the eye of her excited son, she beckoned him to +come to her, which he promptly did. + +"Try kind words on him," she said; "you will find them more powerful than +harsh words. You spoke very harshly to Henry when he came in, and I was +sorry to hear it." + +"It won't do any good, mother. He's a rude, bad boy, and I wish he would +stay at home. Won't you make him go home?" + +"First go and speak to him in a gentler way than you did just now. Try to +subdue him with kindness." + +William felt that he had been wrong in letting his angry feelings express +themselves in angry words. So he left his mother and went down upon the +lawn, where Henry was amusing himself by trying to trip the children with a +long stick, as they ran about on the green. + +"Henry," he said, cheerfully and pleasantly, "if you were fishing in the +river, and I were to come and throw stones in where your line fell, and +scare away all the fish, would you like it?" + +"No, I should not," the lad replied. + +"It wouldn't be kind in me?" + +"No, of course it wouldn't." + +"Well, now, Henry," William tried to smile and to speak very pleasantly, +"we are playing here and trying to enjoy ourselves. Is it right for you to +come and interrupt us by tripping our feet, pulling us about, and pushing +us down? I am sure you will not think so if you reflect a moment. So don't +do it any more, Henry." + +"No, I will not," replied Henry, promptly. "I am sorry that I disturbed +you. I didn't think what I was doing. And now I remember, father told me +not to stay, and I must run home." + +So Henry Green went quickly away, and the children were left to enjoy +themselves. + +"Didn't I tell you that kind words were more powerful than harsh words, +William?" said his mother, after Henry had gone away; "when we speak +harshly to our fellows, we arouse their angry feelings, and then evil +spirits have power over them; but when we speak kindly, we affect them with +gentleness, and good spirits flow into this latter state, and excite in +them better thoughts and intentions. How quickly Henry changed, when you +changed your manner and the character of your language. Do not forget this, +my son. Do not forget, that kind words have double the power of harsh +ones." + + + + +[Illustration: THE HERONS AND THE HERRINGS.] + + + + + + THE HERONS AND THE HERRINGS. + A FABLE. + + + A Heron once came--I can scarcely tell why-- + To the court of his cousins, the fishes, + With despatches, so heavy he scarcely could fly, + And his bosom brimfull of good wishes. + + He wished the poor Herrings no harm, he said, + Though there seemed to be cause for suspicion; + His government wished to convert them, instead, + And this was the end of his mission. + + The Herrings replied, and were civil enough, + Though a little inclined to be witty: + "We know we are heathenish, savage, and rough, + And are greatly obliged for your pity. + + "But your plan of conversion we beg to decline, + With all due respect for your nation; + No doubt it would tend to exalt and refine, + Yet we fear it would check respiration." + + The Heron returned to his peers in disdain, + And told how their love was requited. + "Poor creatures!" they said, "shall we let them remain + So ignorant, blind, and benighted?" + + Then soon on a crusade of love and good-will + The Herons in council decided; + And they flew, every one that could boast a long bill, + To the beach where the Herrings resided. + + So the tribe were soon converts from ocean to air, + Though liking not much the diversion, + And wishing at least they had time to prepare + For so novel a mode of conversion. + + A sensible child will discover with ease + The point of the tale I've related-- + A blockhead could not, let me say what I please-- + Then why need my MORAL be stated? + + + + + EARLY SPRING FLOWERS. + + +Of all the amusements of my childhood, I can think of none which I loved so +much as rambling in the woods and meadows among the flowers. What a rich +treat it used to be, just after the earth had thrown aside its white +mantle, and begun to be clothed in its summer dress, to get permission to +spend a whole Saturday afternoon in the woods with my brother and sister. +Oh, how delighted we all were, when we found the first wild flowers of +spring! Let me see. What flowers show their pretty faces the earliest? Do +you remember, young friend? Perhaps you have always lived in the city, and +have never made their acquaintance. But if you have ever seen them, +blushing in their native haunts, I am sure you must remember how they look, +and what their names are. I cannot see how any body can forget them, they +are so beautiful and lovely. + +One of the earliest flowers of spring, and one which grew in the woods only +a few rods from my father's door, near the stream that turned my miniature +water-wheels, is the _Trailing Arbutus_. Often you may find this plant +unfolding its delicate blossoms before the snow has left the ground. That, +in our northern latitudes, is usually among the first flowers in blossom. +Soon after she appears, you may see one and perhaps two different species +of the _Anemone_. One, especially--the _Anemone Thalictroides_, +as it used to be called in botany, though it is now the _Thalictrum +Anemonoides_, I believe--is among the fairest of all these flowers of +spring. She has a blossom as white as snow. The _Anemone Nemrosa_ is +almost as fair, too, though not quite, I think. You can sometimes see them +both smiling side by side, early in the month of May, nodding gracefully at +each other, and smiling as if they were very happy. It does not require +much imagination to fancy they are conversing together; and, indeed, I +would quite as soon believe that flowers could talk, as I would believe +those stories about the fairies that children hear sometimes. + +There is another beautiful flower which makes her appearance very +early--the _Spring Beauty_, or _Claytonia Virginica_. She is +usually found in the same locations with the Anemone. Then there is the +_Liver Leaf_. Did you ever find that, little girl? Very possibly you +have not taken a ramble early enough in the spring to see her. She makes +her visit frequently in the latter part of April, and she does not stay +long. But after her flower has faded and fallen, there may be seen a few +deeply notched and curious leaves, to mark the spot where she bloomed so +sweetly. + +The _Blood Root_, too, will make her visit, and go away again, if you +delay your ramble in the woods till the first of May. The blossom of the +Blood Root is a very delicate white. Hundreds of exotic flowers are +cultivated in our gardens, and very much admired, that are not half so +pretty as this. The leaves that appear before the plant is in blossom, are +oval, a little like those of the Adder's Tongue, which is in flower +somewhat later, and like those of one species of the Solomon's Seal--the +_Convallaria Bifolia_. But when the flower of the Blood Root appears, +you see quite a different kind of leaf, so that even close observers of +wild flowers are sometimes deceived, and think that their early leaves +belong to some other plant. + +Every body who has been at all familiar with the forest and meadows in the +spring, knows the _Violet_. There are a good many sisters in this +charming family, but none, perhaps, in our latitude, that are more +beautiful than the _Viola Rotundifolia,_ or Yellow Violet, with +roundish leaves, lying close to the ground. The Blue Violet, too, appears +soon after, and is perhaps equally pretty. I recollect distinctly where it +used to grow near the little brook that ran through our meadow--a brook +that many a time has served to turn my water-wheel. Oh, those days of +miniature water-wheels, and kites, and wind-mills! how happy they were, and +how I love to think of them now! By the way, have you ever read Miss +Gould's poetical fable about the little child and the Blue Violet? I must +recite a stanza or two of this poem, I think. The child speaks to the +Violet, and says, + + "Violet, violet, sparkling with dew, + Down in the meadow land, wild where you grew, + How did you come by the beautiful blue + With which your soft petals unfold? + And how do you hold up your tender young head, + Where rude, sweeping winds rush along o'er your bed, + And dark, gloomy clouds, ranging over you, shed + Their waters, so heavy and cold? + + "No one has nursed you, or watched you an hour, + Or found you a place in the garden or bower; + And they cannot yield me so lovely a flower, + As here I have found at my feet! + + "Speak, my sweet violet, answer and tell, + How you have grown up and flourished so well, + And look so contented, where lonely you dwell, + And we thus by accident meet?" + +Then the Violet answers, and tells the child why it is so contented, and +how it is able to hold up its head, and where its pretty blue petals come +from. But I will not recite the remainder of the poem, for I am sure my +readers do not need to be told who made the flowers, and who taught them to +bloom so sweetly in their wild haunts. + +The early flowers of spring! I loved them fondly when a child; but now I am +a man, I love them still more. Shall I tell you why, dear child? There is +something sad in the reason, and yet it is not all sadness. I had a +sister--I _had_ a sister. Ah! that tells the tale. I have no sister +now! The dearest companion of my early rambles among the flowers--herself +the fairest and sweetest of them all--has fallen before the scythe of +Death. She has gone now to a world of perpetual spring, and the flowers she +loved so well are blooming over her grave. She faded away in the early +spring, and we laid her to rest where her mother had long been sleeping. By +the side of the streamlet where we used to play in the sunny days of +childhood, and where the Dandelion grew, and the Butter-cup, and the +Violet--there is now the form of her I tenderly loved. + +But my strain is sad--too sad. I will sing, and be cheerful. + + Alas! how soon + The things of earth we love most fondly perish! + Why died the flower our hearts had learned to cherish? + Why, ere 'twas noon? + + I cannot tell-- + But though the grave be that loved sister's dwelling, + And though my heart e'en now with grief is swelling, + I know 'tis well. + + 'Tis well with the-- + 'Tis well with thee, thou lone and silent sleeper! + 'Tis well, though thou hast left me here a weeper + Awhile to be. + + 'Tis well for me-- + 'Tis well; my home, since thou art gone, is dearer-- + The grave is welcome, if it bring me nearer + To heaven and thee. + + I'll not repine-- + No, blest one; thou art happier than thy brother: + I'll think of thee, as with thy angel-mother, + Sweet sister mine. + + Still would I share + Thy love, and meet thee where the flowers are springing, + Where the wild bird his joyous note is singing-- + Come to me there. + + Oh! come again, + At the still hour, the holy hour of even, + Ere one pale star has gemmed the vault of heaven; + Come to me then. + + + + + TEMPTATION RESISTED. + + +Charles Murray left home, with his books in his satchel, for school. Before +starting, he kissed his little sister, and patted Juno on the head, and as +he went singing away, he felt as happy as any little boy could wish to +feel. Charles was a good-tempered lad, but he had the fault common to a +great many boys, that of being tempted and enticed by others to do things +which he knew to be contrary to the wishes of his parents. Such acts never +made him feel any happier; for the fear that his disobedience would be +found out, and the consciousness of having done wrong, were far from being +pleasant companions. + +On the present occasion, as he walked briskly in the direction of the +school, he repeated over his lessons in his mind, and was intent upon +having them so perfect as to be able to repeat every word. He had gone +nearly half the distance, and was still thinking over his lessons, when he +stopped suddenly, as a voice called out, + +"Halloo, Charley!" + +Turning in the direction from which the voice came, he saw Archy Benton, +with his school basket in his hand; but he was going from, instead of in +the direction of the school. + +"Where are you going, Archy?" asked Charles, calling out to him. + +"Into the woods, for chestnuts." + +"Ain't you going to school, to-day?" + +"No, indeed. There was a sharp frost last night, and Uncle John says the +wind will rattle down the chestnuts like hail." + +"Did your father say you might go?" + +"No, indeed. I asked him, but he said I couldn't go until Saturday. But the +hogs are in the woods, and will eat the chestnuts all up, before Saturday. +So I am going to-day. Come, go along, won't you? It is such a fine day, and +the ground will be covered with chestnuts. We can get home at the usual +time, and no one will suspect that we were not at school." + +"I should like to go, very well," said Charley; "but I know father will be +greatly displeased, if he finds it out, and I am afraid he will get to know +it, in some way." + +"How could he get to know it? Isn't he at his store all the time?" + +"But he might think to ask me if I was at school. And I never will tell a +lie." + +"You could say yes, and not tell a lie, either," returned Archy. "You were +at school yesterday." + +"No, I couldn't. A lie, father says, is in the intent to deceive. He would, +of course, mean to ask whether I was at school to-day, and if I said yes, I +would tell a lie." + +"It isn't so clear to me that you would. At any rate, I don't see such +great harm in a little fib. It doesn't hurt any body." + +"Father says a falsehood hurts a boy a great deal more than he thinks for. +And one day he showed me in the Bible where liars were classed with +murderers, and other wicked spirits, in hell. I can't tell a lie, Archy." + +"There won't be any need of your doing so," urged Archy; "for I am sure he +will never think to ask you about it. Why should he?" + +"I don't know. But whenever I have been doing any thing wrong, he is sure +to begin to question me, and lead me on until I betray the secret of my +fault." + +"Never mind. Come and go with me. It is such a fine day. We shan't have +another like it. It will rain on Saturday, I'll bet any thing. So come +along, now, and let us have a day in the woods, while we can." + +Charles was very strongly tempted. When he thought of the confinement of +school, and then of the freedom of a day in the woods, he felt much +inclined to go with Archy. + +"Come along," said Archy, as Charles stood balancing the matter in his +mind. And he took hold of his arm, and drew him in a direction opposite +from the school. "Come! you are just the boy I want. I was thinking about +you the moment before I saw you." + +The temptation to Charles was very strong. "I don't believe I will be found +out," he said to himself; "and it is such a pleasant day to go into the +woods!" + +Still he held back, and thought of his father's displeasure if he should +discover that he had played the truant. The word "truant," that he repeated +mentally, decided the matter in his mind, and he exclaimed, in a loud and +decided voice, as he dragged away from the hand of Archy, that had still +retained its hold on his arm, "I've never played truant yet, and I don't +think I ever will. Father says he never played truant when he was a boy; +and I'd like to say the same thing when I get to be a man." + +"Nonsense, Charley! come, go with me," urged Archy. + +But Charles Murray's mind was made up not to play the truant. So he started +off for school, saying, as he did so-- + +"No, I can't go, Archy; and if I were you, I would wait until Saturday. You +will enjoy it so much better when you have your fathers consent. It always +takes away more than half the pleasure of any enjoyment to think that it is +obtained at the cost of disobedience. Come! go to school with me now, and I +will go into the woods with you on Saturday." + +"No, I can't wait until Saturday. I'm sure it will rain by that time; and +if it don't, the hogs will eat up every nut that has fallen before that +time." + +"There'll be plenty left on the trees, if they do. It's as fine sport to +knock them down as to pick them up." + +But Archy's purpose was settled, and nothing that Charles Murray could say +had any influence with him. So the boys parted, the one for his school, and +the other for a stolen holiday in the woods. + +The moment Charles was alone again, he felt no longer any desire to go with +Archy. He had successfully resisted the temptation, and the allurement was +gone. But even for listening to temptation he had some small punishment, +for he was late to school by nearly ten minutes, and had not his lessons as +perfect as usual, for which the teacher felt called upon to reprimand him. +But this was soon forgotten; and he was so good a boy through the whole +day, and studied all his lessons so diligently, that when evening came, the +teacher, who had not forgotten the reprimand, said to him: + +"You have been the best boy in the school to-day, Charles. To-morrow +morning try and come in time, and be sure that your lessons are all well +committed to memory." + +Charles felt very light and cheerful as he went running, skipping, and +singing homeward. His day had been well spent, and happiness was his +reward. When he came in sight of home, there was no dread of meeting his +father and mother, such as he would have felt if he had played the truant. +Every thing looked bright and pleasant, and when Juno came bounding out to +meet him, he couldn't help hugging the favorite dog in the joy he felt at +seeing her. + +When Charles met his mother, she looked at him with a more earnest and +affectionate gaze than usual. And then the boy noticed that her countenance +became serious. + +"Ain't you well, mother?" asked Charles. + +"Yes, my dear, I am very well," she replied; "but I saw something an hour +ago which has made me feel sad. Archy Benton was brought home from the +woods this afternoon, where he had gone for chestnuts, instead of going to +school, as he should have done, dreadfully hurt. He had fallen from a tree. +Both his arms are broken, and the doctor fears that he has received some +inward injury that may cause his death." + +Charles turned pale, when his mother said this. + +"Boys rarely get hurt, except when they are acting disobediently, or doing +some harm to others," remarked Mrs Murray. "If Archy had gone to school, +this dreadful accident would not have happened. His father told him that he +might go for chestnuts on Saturday, and if he had waited until then, I am +sure he might have gone into the woods and received no harm, for all who do +right are protected from evil." + +"He tried to persuade me to go with him," said Charles, "and I was strongly +tempted to do so. But I resisted the temptation, and have felt glad about +it ever since." + +Mrs Murray took her son's hand, and pressing it hard, said, with much +feeling, + +"How rejoiced I am that you were able to resist his persuasions to do +wrong. Even if you had not been hurt yourself, the injury received by Archy +would have discovered to us that you were with him, and then how unhappy +your father and I would have been I cannot tell. And you would have been +unhappy, too. Ah! my son, there is only one true course for all of us, and +that is, to do right. Every deviation from this path brings trouble. An act +of a moment may make us wretched for days, weeks, months, or perhaps years. +It will be a long, long time before Archy is free from pain of body or +mind--it may be that he will never recover. Think how miserable his parents +must feel; and all because of this single act of disobedience." + +We cannot say how often Charles said to himself, that evening and the next +day, when he thought of Archy, "Oh, how glad I am that I did not go with +him!" + +When Saturday came, the father and mother of Charles Murray gave him +permission to go into the woods for chestnuts. Two or three other boys, who +were his school companions, likewise received liberty to go; and they +joined Charles, and altogether made a pleasant party. It did not rain, nor +had the hogs eaten up all the nuts, for the lads found plenty under the +tall old trees, and in a few hours filled their bags and baskets. Charles +said, when he came home, that he had never enjoyed himself better, and was +so glad that he had not been tempted to go with Archy Benton. + +It was a lesson he never afterward forgot. If he was tempted to do what he +knew was wrong, he thought of Archy's day in the woods, and the tempter +instantly left him. The boy who had been so badly hurt, did not die, as the +doctor feared; but he suffered great pain, and was ill for a long time. + + + + + EVENING PRAYER. + + + Heavenly Father! Through the day, + Have we wandered from thy way? + Have our thoughts to error turned? + Has within us evil burned? + + Heavenly Father! Oh, remove + Evil thoughts and evil love! + Give us truth our minds to fill; + Give us strength to do thy will. + + Often we are led astray + From the true and righteous way; + But, we humbly pray to thee, + From the tempter keep us free. + + Heavenly Father! While we sleep, + Angel watchers round us keep. + When the morning breaks, may we, + Better, wiser children be. + + + + + STRETCHING THE TRUTH. + + +It is a very bad habit, this stretching the truth, as one does a piece of +India rubber; and the worst of it is, that when any body forms the habit, +there is no telling how much it will grow upon him. + +There is Jack Weaver, for instance. He is a sailor all over, to be sure--an +"old salt," as he would call himself. But that does not confer upon him any +license to spin such yarns as he does, to his young shipmates on the +forward deck. He has cruised half a dozen years after whales, in the +Pacific ocean, and, of course, has seen some sights that are worth speaking +of. But that is no reason why he should fill the head of that young fellow +sitting on a coil of rope with a hundred cock-and-bull stories, that have +scarcely a word of truth in them, from beginning to end. Why, he don't +pretend to tell stories without stretching the truth. + +I know some boys, too, who seem to find it very difficult to relate any +incident as it took place. They are so much in the habit of stretching the +truth, in fact, that those who are acquainted with them seldom believe more +than half of one of their stories. These boys, however, have not the +slightest intention, when they are pulling out a foot into a yard, of doing +any thing wrong. Very possibly they think they are telling a pretty +straight story. Habits are strong, you know--especially bad habits. Just +look at Selden Mason, one of the best-natured boys I ever saw, and who has +not got an enemy among all his school-mates; it is wonderful what a +truth-stretcher he has got to be. Every boy shakes his head, when he hears +a great story, and says it sounds like one of Selden's yarns. And yet be is +so particular and minute in relating any thing, sometimes, that one who did +not know him would not suspect him of treating the truth so badly. His +apparent sincerity reminds me of an anecdote related of another boy, who +had this habit worse than Selden has, I should think. The boy remarked that +his father once killed ninety-nine crows at a single shot! He was asked why +he did not say a hundred, and have done with it. The fellow was indignant. +"Do you think I would tell a lie for one crow?" said he! + +Selden Mason's habit of truth-stretching has got such a hold of him now, +that you can perceive the marks of it in almost every thing he says. I have +sometimes been half sorry he was so good a boy in other respects; for, as +his companions like him pretty well, there is the more danger that they +will catch the habit of him, before they are aware of it. His teacher was +once asked what he thought of Selden, on the whole. "I can't help being +pleased with the fellow," said he; "he is a good scholar, and very +obedient; but I should like him a great deal better if he didn't tell such +monstrous stories. He is like a book all printed in italic letters, with an +exclamation point at the end of every sentence." Selden has often gone by +the name of the "Exclamation Point," since that time. + +Poor fellow! I wish he had tried to break himself of that habit, before it +became so deeply rooted. I am afraid it will stick to him as long as he +lives now; and if it does, he will get a very bad character as a man of +business. Scarcely any reliance can be placed upon his word. No matter how +careful he may be to state a thing exactly as it is, in his business +matters, if he keeps up this general habit, people will say, "Oh! that's +nothing but one of Mason's italic stories!" + +Look out, my boy! It wouldn't be the strangest thing in the world, if you +had got into a habit something like this of Selden's, though it may not yet +be half so strong. But keep a sharp look-out, at any rate. Take care that +you never stretch the truth. + + + + + THE CITY PIGEON. + + +With all is the beautiful lingerer in our crowded cities a favorite. All +love this gentle bird, that, shunning the cool and quiet woods, stays with +man in the hot and noisy town, and, amid strife and the war of passions, +passes ever before him a living emblem of peace. "It is no light chance," +says Willis, in his exquisite lines "To a City Pigeon," + +[Illustration: THE CITY PIGEON.] + + "It is no light chance. Thou art set apart + Wisely by Him who has tamed the heart, + To stir the love for the bright and fair, + That else were sealed in this crowded air; + I sometimes dream + Angelic rays from thy pinions gleam." + +In these same lines, how truly and how sweetly has he said: + + "A holy gift is thine, sweet bird! + Thou'rt named with childhood's earliest word! + Thou'rt linked with all that's fresh and wild, + In the prison'd thoughts of a city child; + And thy glossy wings + Are its brightest image of moving things." + +In the language of the same poet, how often have we said, as we looked +forth upon the gentle bird: + + "Stoop to my window, thou beautiful dove; + Thy daily visits have touched my love. + I watch thy coming, and list the note + That stirs so low in thy mellow throat; + And my joy is high + To catch the glance of thy gentle eye." + +In his lines to "The Belfry Pigeon," Mr Willis has expressed most +truthfully the feelings and thoughts which all have had for this gentle +creature, which, + + "Alone of the feathered race, + Doth look unscared on the human face." + +As we know of nothing on the subject more appropriate and beautiful than +the address referred to, we will copy it for our young readers. + + + + + THE BELFRY PIGEON. + + + "On the cross beam under the Old South Bell, + The nest of a pigeon is builded well. + In summer and winter that bird is there, + Out and in with the morning air. + I love to see him track the street, + With his wary eye and active feet; + And I often watch him as he springs, + Circling the steeples with easy wings, + Till across the dial his shade has pass'd, + And the belfry edge is gained at last. + 'Tis a bird I love, with its brooding note, + And the trembling throb in its mottled throat; + There's a human look in its swelling breast, + And the gentle curve of its lowly crest; + And I often stop with the fear I feel-- + He runs so close to the rapid wheel. + + "Whatever is rung on that noisy bell-- + Chime of the hour or funeral knell-- + The dove in the belfry must hear it well. + When the tongue swings out to the midnight moon-- + When the sexton cheerily rings for noon-- + When the clock strikes clear at morning light-- + When the child is waked with 'nine at night'-- + When the chimes play soft in the Sabbath air, + Filling the spirit with love of prayer-- + Whatever tale in the bell is heard, + He broods on his folded feet unstirr'd, + Or, rising half in his rounded nest, + He takes the time to smooth his breast, + Then drops again with filmed eyes, + And sleeps as the last vibration dies. + + "Sweet bird! I would that I could be + A hermit in the crowd like thee! + With wings to fly to wood and glen. + Thy lot, like mine, is cast with men, + And daily, with unwilling feet, + I tread, like thee, the crowded street; + But, unlike me, when day is o'er, + Thou canst dismiss the world and soar; + Or, at a half-felt wish for rest, + Canst smooth the feathers on thy breast, + And drop, forgetful, to thy nest." + + + + + A DAY IN THE WOODS. + + +"School!" said Richard White, to himself; "School! I don't want to go to +school. Why am I sent to school every day? What good is there in learning +grammar, and arithmetic, and geography, and all them things? I don't like +school, and I never did." + +"Dick!" called out a voice; and the lad, who had seated himself on a cellar +door, and placed his satchel beside him, looked up, and met the cheerful +face of one of his school-fellows. + +"What are you sitting there for, Dick? Don't you hear the school bell?" + +"Yes; I hear it, Bill." + +"Then get up and come along, or you will be late." + +"I don't care if I am. I don't like to go to school." + +"You don't?" + +"No, indeed. I'd never go to school if I could help it. What's the use of +so much learning? I'm going to a trade as soon as I get old enough; and +Pete Elder says that a boy who don't know A B C, can learn a trade just as +well as one who does." + +"I don't know any thing about that," replied William Brown; "but father +says, the more learning I get when a boy, the more successful in life will +I be when a man; that is, if I make a good use of my learning." + +"What good is grammar going to do a mechanic, I wonder?" said Richard, +contemptuously. "What use will the double rule of three, or fractions, be +to him?" + +"They may be of a great deal of use. Father says we cannot learn too much +while we are boys. He says he never learned any thing in his life that did +not come of use to him at some time or other." + +"Grammar, and geography, and double rule of three, will never be of any use +to me." + +"Oh, yes, they will, Dick! So come along. The bell is nearly done ringing. +Come, won't you?" + +"No; I'm going out to the woods," + +"Come, Richard, come! That will be playing truant." + +"No; I've made my mind up not to go to school to-day." + +"You'll be sorry for it, Dick, if you do stay away from school." + +"Why will I?" said the boy, quickly. "Are you going to tell?" + +"If I should be asked about you, I will not tell a lie; but I don't suppose +any one will inquire of me." + +"Then why will I be sorry?" + +"You'll be sorry when you're a man." + +Richard White laughed aloud at the idea of his being sorry when he became a +man, for having neglected his school when a boy. + +"If you are not going, I am," said William Brown, starting off and running +as fast as he could. He arrived at the door of the schoolhouse just as the +bell stopped ringing. In stopping to persuade Richard not to play truant, +he had come near being too late. + +As soon as William left him, Richard White got up from the cellar door +where he had been reclining lazily, and throwing his satchel over his +shoulder, started for the woods. His books and satchel were in his way, and +rather heavy to carry about with him for six or seven hours. But he did not +think it prudent to leave them any where, for the person with whom they +were left would suspect him of playing truant, and through that means his +fault might come to the knowledge of his parents. + +After thinking over this, as he went on his way, it occurred to Richard +that the satchel was as likely to betray him if carried along as if left at +some store to be called for on his return. Finally, he concluded to ask for +a newspaper at a shop. + +With this he wrapped up his satchel, and taking it under his arm, went on +without any more fears of betrayal from this source. + +As soon as the foolish boy reached the woods, he hid his satchel, so as to +get clear of the trouble it was to him, beside a large stone, and covered +it with leaves and long grass. Then he felt free, and, as he thought, +happy. + +But it was not long before he got tired of rambling about alone. He +listened, sometimes, to the birds, and sometimes tried, with stones, to +kill the beautiful and innocent creatures. Then he thought how pleasant it +would be to find a nest, and carry off the young ones; and he searched with +great diligence for a long time, but could find no nest. + +Once a little striped squirrel glided past him, and mounted a high tree. As +it ran around and around the great trunk, appearing and disappearing at +intervals, Richard tried to knock it off with stones. But his aim was not +very true. Instead of hitting the squirrel, he managed to get a severe blow +himself; for a stone which he threw very high, struck a large limb, and, +bouncing back, fell upon his upturned face, and cut him badly. + +From that moment, all the pleasure he had felt since entering the woods was +gone. The blood stained his shirt bosom, and covered his hand when he put +it up to his face. Of course, the wound, and the blood upon his shirt, +would betray him. This was his first thought, as he washed himself at a +small stream. But, then, all at once it occurred to him--for evil +suggestions are sure to be made to us when we are in the way to receive +them--that it would be just as easy to say that a boy threw a stone, which +struck him as he was walking along the street, as to say that he got hurt +while in the woods. And, without stopping to think how wicked it would be +to tell a lie, Richard determined to make this statement when he got home. + +The smarting of the wound, and the uneasiness occasioned by a sight of the +blood, so disturbed Richard's feelings, that he was unable to regain enough +composure of mind to enjoy his day of freedom in the woods. By twelve +o'clock, he was tired and hungry, and heartily wished himself at home. But +it would not do to go now; for if he were to do so, his father would +understand that he had not been to school. There was no alternative for him +but to remain out in the lonely woods, without any thing to eat, for five +hours longer. And a weary time it was for him. + +At last the sun, which had been for a very long time, it seemed to him, +descending toward the western horizon, sunk so low that he was sure it must +be after five o'clock, and then, with sober feelings, he started for home. +The day had disappointed him. He was far from feeling happy. When he +thought of the wound on his face and the blood upon his bosom, he felt +troubled. If he told the truth, he knew he would be punished, and if he +told a lie, and was found out, punishment would as certainly follow. + +These were his thoughts and feelings when he came to the place where he had +concealed his satchel. But, lo! his books were gone. Some one had +discovered and carried them off. + +Sadly enough, now, did Richard White return home. We will not pain our +young readers with an account of his reception. The father already knew +that his son had not been to school, for a man had found the satchel in the +woods. Richard's name was on it, and this led the man to bring it to his +father, with whom he was acquainted. + +Richard never went to school again. On the very next week, he was sent to +learn a trade, and he soon found that there was a great difference between +a school-boy and an apprentice. + +William Brown continued to go to school two years longer, when he also went +from home to learn a trade. He was then a good scholar, and had a fondness +for books. Because he was learning a trade, he did not give up all other +kinds of learning, but, whenever he had leisure, he applied himself to his +books. Both he and Richard were free about the same time. Richard had +learned his trade well, and was as good a workman as William; but he had +not improved his mind. He had not been able to see the use that learning +was going to be to a mechanic. + +Fifteen years have passed since these two lads completed their terms of +apprenticeship, and entered the world as men; and how do they now stand? +Why, William Brown has a large manufactory of his own, and Richard White is +one of his workmen. By his superior intelligence and enterprise, the former +is able to serve the public interests by giving direction to the labors of +a hundred men, and his reward is in proportion to the service he thus +renders; while the latter serves the public interest to the extent of only +one man's labors, and his reward is in exact ratio thereto. + +Did Richard White gain any thing by his day in the woods? We think not. Is +there any use in education to a mechanic? Let each of our young readers +answer the question for himself. + + + + + THE SPIDER AND THE HONEY-BEE. + A FABLE FOR MANY IN GENERAL AND SOME IN PARTICULAR. + + +I. + + A bee who had chased after pleasure all day, + And homeward was lazily wending his way, + Fell in with a Spider, who called to the Bee: + "Good evening! I trust you are well," said he. + +II. + + The bee was quite happy to stop awhile there-- + For indolence always has moments to spare-- + "Good evening!" he said, with a very low bow, + "My health, sir, alas! 'tis quite delicate now. + +III. + + "From spring until autumn, from morning till night, + I'm obliged to be toiling with all my might; + My labors are wearing me out, and you know + I might as well starve, as to kill myself so." + +IV. + + The Spider pretended to pity the Bee-- + For a cunning old hypocrite Spider was he-- + "I'm sorry to see you so ill," he said; + And he whispered his wife, "He will have to be bled." + +[Illustration: THE BEE OUTSIDE THE WEB.] + +V. + + "Some people--perhaps they are wiser than I-- + Some people are in a great hurry to die; + Excuse me, but candor compels me to say, + 'Tis wrong to be throwing one's life away. + +VI. + + "Your industry, sir, it may do very well + For the beaver's rude hut, or the honey-bee's cell; + But it never would suit a gay fellow like me; + I love to be idle--I love to be free. + +VII. + + "This hoarding of riches--this wasting of time, + In robbing the gardens and fields--'tis a crime! + And then to be guilty of suicide, too! + I tremble to think what a miser will do." + +VIII. + + 'Tis strange the poor Bee was so stupid and blind. + "Mister Spider," said he, "you have spoken my mind; + There's something within me that seems to say, + I have toiled long enough, and 'tis better to play. + +IX. + "But how in the world shall I manage to live? + I might beg all my life, and nobody would give. + 'Tis easy enough to be merry and sing, + But living on air is a different thing." + +X. + + The Spider was silent, and looked very grave-- + 'Twas a habit he had--the scheming old knave! + No Spider, intent on his labor of love, + Had more of the serpent, or less of the dove. + +XI. + + "To serve you would give me great pleasure," said he; + "Come into my palace, and tarry with me; + The Spider knows nothing of labor and care. + Come, you shall be welcome our bounty to share. + +XII. + + "I live like a king, and my wife like a queen, + In meadows where flowers are blooming and green; + 'Tis sweet on the violet's bosom to lie, + And list to the stream that runs merrily by. + +XIII. + + "With us you shall mingle in scenes of delight, + All summer and winter, from morning till night; + And when 'neath the hills the sun sinks in the west, + Your head on a pillow of roses shall rest. + +XIV. + + "When miserly Bees shall return from their toils, + We'll catch them, and tie them, and feast on the spoils; + I'll lighten their burdens--I ought to know how-- + My pantry is full of such gentlemen now." + +XV. + + The Bee did not wait to be urged any more, + But nodded his thanks, as he entered the door. + "Aha!" said the Spider, "I have you at last." + And he caught the poor urchin, and wound him up fast. + +XVI. + + The Bee, when aware of his perilous fate, + Recovered his wit, though a moment too late. + "O treacherous Spider! for shame!" said he, + "Is it thus you betray a poor, innocent Bee?" + +XVII. + + The cunning old Spider then laughed outright; + "Poor fellow!" he said, "you are in a sad plight! + Ha! ha! what a dunce you must be to suppose, + That the heart of a Spider should pity your woes! + +[Illustration: THE BEE INSIDE THE WEB.] + +XVIII. + + "I never could boast of much honor or shame, + Though a little acquainted with both by name; + But I think if the Bees can a brother betray, + We Spiders are quite as good people as they. + +XIX. + + "On the whole, you have lived long enough, I opine; + So now, by your leave, I will hasten to dine; + You'll make a good dinner, it must be confess'd, + And the world, I am thinking, will pardon the rest." + +XX. + + This lesson for every one, little and great, + Is taught in that vagabond's tragical fate: + _Of him who is scheming your friend to ensnare_, + _Unless you've a passion for Heeding, beware!_ + + + + + + + EMMA LEE AND HER SIXPENCE. + + +Emma's aunt had given her a sixpence, and now the question was, what should +she buy with it? "I'll you what I will do, mother," she said, changing her +mind for the tenth time. + +"Well, dear, what have you determined upon now?" + +"I'll save my sixpence until I get a good many more, and then I'll buy me a +handsome wax doll. Wouldn't you do that, mother, if you were me?" + +"If I were you, I suppose I would do just as you will," replied Emma's +mother, smiling. + +"But, mother, don't you think that would be a nice way to do? I get a good +many pennies and sixpences, you know, and could soon save enough to buy me +a beautiful wax doll." + +"I think it would be better," said Mrs Lee, "for you to save up your money +and buy something worth having." + +"Isn't a large wax doll worth having?" + +"Oh, yes! for a little girl like you." + +"Then I'll save up my money, until I get enough to buy me a doll as big as +Sarah Johnson's." + +In about an hour afterward, Emma came to her mother, and said-- + +"I've just thought what I will do with my sixpence. I saw such a beautiful +book at a store, yesterday! It was full of pictures, and the price was just +sixpence. I'll buy that book." + +"But didn't you say, a little while ago, that you were going to save your +money until you had enough to buy a doll?" + +"I know I did, mother; but I didn't think about the book then. And it will +take so long before I can save up money enough to get a new doll. I think I +will buy the book." + +"Very well, dear," replied Mrs Lee. + +Not long after, Emma changed her mind again. + +On the next day, her mother said to her-- + +"Your Aunt Mary is quite sick, and I am going to see her. Do you wish to go +with me?" + +"Yes, mother, I should like to go. I am so sorry that Aunt Mary is sick. +What ails her?" + +"She is never very well, and the least cold makes her sick. The last time +she was here she took cold." + +As they were about leaving the house, Emma said-- + +"I'll take my sixpence along, and spend it, mother." + +"What are you going to buy?" asked Mrs Lee. + +"I don't know," replied Emma. "Sometimes I think I will buy some cakes; and +then I think I will get a whole sixpence worth of cream candy, I like it +so." + +"Have you forgotten the book?" + +"Oh, no! Sometimes I think I will buy the book. Indeed, I don't know what +to buy." + +In this undecided state of mind, Emma started with her mother to see her +aunt. They had not gone far before they met a poor woman, with some very +pretty bunches of flowers for sale. She carried them on a tray. She stopped +before Mrs Lee and her little girl, and asked if they would not buy some +flowers. + +"How much are they a bunch?" asked Emma. + +"Sixpence," replied the woman. + +"Mother! I'll tell you what I will do with my sixpence," said Emma, her +face brightening with the thought that came into her mind. "I will buy a +bunch of flowers for Aunt Mary. You know how she loves flowers. Can't I do +it, mother?" + +"Oh, yes, dear! Do it, by all means, if you think you can give up the nice +cream candy, or the picture book, for the sake of gratifying your aunt." + +Emma did not hesitate a moment, but selected a very handsome bunch of +flowers, and paid her sixpence to the woman with a feeling of real +pleasure. + +Aunt Mary was very much pleased with the bouquet Emma brought her. + +"The sight of these flowers, and their delightful perfume, really makes me +feel better," she said, after she had held them in her hand for a little +while; "I am very much obliged to my niece, for thinking of me." + +That evening, Emma looked up from a book which her mother had bought her as +they returned home from Aunt Mary's, and with which she had been much +entertained, and said-- + +"I think the spending of my sixpence gave me a double pleasure." + +"How so, dear?" asked Mrs Lee. + +"I made aunt happy, and the flower woman too. Didn't you notice how pleased +the flower woman looked? I wouldn't wonder if she had little children at +home, and thought about the bread that sixpence would buy them when I paid +it to her. Don't you think she did?" + +"I cannot tell that, Emma," replied her mother; "but I shouldn't at all +wonder if it were as you suppose. And so it gives you pleasure to think you +have made others happy?" + +"Indeed it does." + +"Acts of kindness," replied Emma's mother, "always produce a feeling of +pleasure. This every one may know. And it is the purest and truest pleasure +we experience in this world. Try and remember this little incident of the +flowers as long as you live, my child; and let the thought of it remind you +that every act of self-denial brings to the one who makes it a sweet +delight." + + + + + + + UNCLE RODERICK'S STORIES. + + +Uncle Roderick was an old bachelor--as thorough going an old bachelor as +any one need wish to see. Some folks said he had a great many droll whims +in his head. I don't know how that was; but this I know, that he loved +every body, and almost every body loved him. He had evidently seen better +days, when, in my boyhood, I first made his acquaintance; or rather, he had +been "better off in the world," as the phrase goes. Whether he had been +happier, may admit of a question; for the wealthiest man is not always the +happiest. There were marks about him which seemed to show that he had been +higher on the wheel of fortune, and that the change in his condition had +had a chastening effect--just as some fruits become mellower and better +after being bruised a little and frost-bitten. He was a great lover of +children, and withal an inveterate story-teller. + +His memory must have been pretty good, I think; for he would often tell +stories to his little friends by the hour, about what happened to him when +he was a boy. Some of these stories were funny enough; but the old +gentleman usually managed to tack on some good moral to the end of them. By +your leave, boys and girls, I will serve up two or three of these stories +for an evening's entertainment. They will bear telling the second time, I +guess, and I will repeat them, as nearly as my recollection will allow, in +the good old bachelor's own words. + + * * * * * + + + STORY FIRST. + HONESTY THE BEST POLICY. + + +A person is, on the whole, a great deal better off to be honest. Dishonesty +is a losing game. A wise man was once asked what one gained by not telling +the truth. The reply was, "Not to be believed when he speaks the truth." He +was right. There are a great many other respects, too, in which a dishonest +person suffers by his dishonesty. I must tell you what a lie once cost me. +I was about nine years old, perhaps. In justice to myself, I ought to say +that I was not much addicted to this vice; but told a fib once in a great +while, as I am afraid too many other little boys, pretty good on the whole, +sometimes allow themselves to do. One very cool day in the spring of the +year, my father, who was a farmer, was ploughing, and I was riding horse. I +didn't relish the task very well, as I was rather cold, and old Silvertail +was full of his mischief. It was a little more than I could do to manage +him. Moreover, there was some rare sport going on at home. + +"Father," said I, after bearing the penance for the greater part of the +forenoon, "how much longer must I stay in the field?" + +"About an hour," was the reply. + +An hour seemed a great while in the circumstances, and I ventured to say, +"I wish I could go home now--my head aches." + +"I am very sorry," said my father; "but can't you stay till it is time to +go home to dinner?" + +I thought not--my headache was getting to be pretty severe. + +"Well," said he, taking me off the horse, and no doubt suspecting that my +disease was rather in my _heart_ than my head--a suspicion far too +well-founded, I am sorry to say--"well, you may go home. I don't want you +to work if you are sick. Go straight home, and tell your mother that I say +you must take a good large dose of rhubarb. Tell her that I think it will +do you a great deal of good!" + +There was no alternative. I went home, of course, and delivered the message +to my mother. I told her, however, that I thought my head was better, +hoping to avoid taking the nauseous medicine. But it was of no use. It was +too late. She understood my case as well as my father did. She knew well +enough my disease was laziness. So she prepared the rhubarb--an unusually +generous dose, I always thought--and I had to swallow every morsel of it. +Dear me! how bitter it was! It makes me sick to think of a dose of rhubarb, +let me be ever so well. I am sure I would have rode horse all day--and all +night, too, for that matter--rather than to have been doctored after that +sort. But it cured my laziness pretty effectually, and it was a long time +before I told another lie, too. + +"Honesty is the best policy," children, depend upon it, though there is +another and a better reason, as you very well know, why you should always +speak the truth. + + + STORY SECOND. + HOW A ROGUE FEELS WHEN HE IS CAUGHT. + + +When I was a little boy, as near as I can recollect, about nine years of +age, I went with my brother one bright Saturday afternoon, when there was +no school, to visit at the house of Captain Perry. The captain was esteemed +one of the kindest and best-natured neighbors in Willow Lane, where my +father lived; and Julian, the captain's eldest son, very near my own age, +was, among all the boys at school, my favorite play-fellow. Captain Perry +had two bee-hives in his garden, where we were all three at play; and as I +watched the busy little fellows at work bringing in honey from the fields, +all at once I thought it would be a very fine thing to thrust a stick into +a hole which I saw in one of the hives, and bring out some of the honey. My +brother and Julian did not quite agree with me in this matter. They +thought, as nearly as I can recollect, that there were three good reasons +against this mode of obtaining honey: first, I should be likely to get +pretty badly stung; secondly, the act would be a very mean and cowardly +piece of mischief; and, thirdly, I should be found out. + +Still, I was bent on the chivalrous undertaking. I procured a stick of the +right size, and marched up to the hive to make the attack. While I was +deliberating, with the stick already a little way in the hole, whether I +had better thrust it in suddenly, and then scamper away as fast as my legs +could carry me, or proceed so deliberately that the bees would not suspect +what was the matter, Captain Perry happened to come into the garden; and I +was so busy with my mischief, that I did not notice him until he advanced +within a rod or two of the bee-hives. He mistrusted what I was about. +"Roderick," said he. I looked around. I am sure I would have given all I +was worth in the world, not excepting my little pony, which I regarded as a +fortune, if, by some magic or other, I could have got out of this scrape. +But it was too late. I hung my head down, as may be imagined, while the +captain went on with his speech: "Roderick, if I were in your place (I +heartily wished he was in my place, but I did not say so; I said nothing, +in fact), if I were in your place, I would not disturb those poor, harmless +bees, in that way. If you should put that stick into the hive, as you were +thinking of doing, it would take the bees a whole week to mend up their +cells. That is not the way we get honey. I don't wonder you are fond of +honey, though. Children generally are fond of it; and if you will go into +the house, Mrs Perry will give you as much as you wish, I am sure." + +This was twenty years ago--perhaps more. I have met Captain Perry a +hundred times since; yet even now I cannot look upon his frank, honest +countenance, but I distinctly call to mind the Quixotic adventure with the +bees, and I feel almost as much ashamed as I did when I was detected. + + + STORY THIRD. + THE WEEKLY NEWSPAPER. + + +I never shall forget what a sensation it used to produce in our family, +years ago, when the newspaper came. We children--there were three of us, +one brother and two sisters--used to watch for the post, on the +all-important day, as anxiously as a cat ever watched for a mouse. Peter +Packer, the bearer of these weekly dispatches, deserves a little notice. He +was a queer man, at least he had that reputation in our neighborhood. As +long as I can remember, he went his rounds; and, for aught I know, he is +going to this day. + +Peter's old mare--she must be mentioned, for the two are almost +inseparable--was as odd as he was. I should think she belonged to the same +general class and order with Don Quixote's renowned Rosinante; but she had +one peculiarity which is not put down in the description of Rosinante, to +wit, the faculty of diagonal or oblique locomotion. This mare of Peter's +went forward something after the manner of a crab, and a little like a ship +with the wind abeam, as the sailors say. It was a standing topic of dispute +among us boys, whether the animal went head foremost or not. But that did +not matter much, so that she made her circuit--and she always did, +punctually; that is, she always came some time or another. Sometimes she +was a day or two later than usual; but this never occurred except in the +summer season, and it was in this wise: she had a most passionate love for +the practical study of botany; and not being allowed, when at home, to +pursue her favorite science as often as she wished, owing partly to a want +of specimens, and partly to her master's desire to educate her in the more +solid branches, she frequently took the liberty to divest herself of her +bridle, when standing at the door of her master's customers, and to gallop +away in search of flowers. She was a great lover of botany, so much so, +that, as I said before, her desire to obtain specimens sometimes interfered +a little with her other literary engagements; and I am sure I can forgive +her-- + + "For e'en her failings leaned to virtue's side." + +Just so it was with Peter himself. No storm, or tempest, or snow-bank, +could detain him--that is, not longer than a day or two--in his weekly +round. But he loved the theory of making money as much as his mare loved +botany; and he was a practical student, too, and the road which he traveled +afforded a good many opportunities both for extending his knowledge of that +science and of practically applying his principles. So, between the two, +our newspaper sometimes got thoroughly aired before it came to the house. +But Peter was punctual--I insist upon it--for he always came some time or +another. + +When the paper did come, we literally devoured its contents. With us it was +an oracle. If the "Courier" affirmed or denied a thing, that was enough for +us. It was an end to all debate. How confiding children are! He who has +read "Robinson Crusoe" when a boy, finds it almost impossible to regard it +a fable when he is a man. The newspaper, that makes its weekly visit to the +family circle in the country, leaves the marks of its influence upon the +mind and the morals of the child. It forms his tastes and controls his +character. How careful, then, should parents be, in the selection of +periodicals to be the companions of their children. + + * * * * * + + + STORY FOURTH. + THE CIDER PLOT. + + +When I was an apprentice, some years ago, I lived--no matter where, and +served--no matter whom. There were three apprentices besides myself; and it +seems necessary to say, that, at the time when the incident happened which +I am about to relate, we had neither of us completed that branch of +husbandry called the sowing of wild oats; and as the soil was very +favorable for the development of that species of grain, we were perhaps a +little too industriously engaged in its cultivation. We were in great haste +to have the oats all sowed in good season. + +One day our employer bought a cast of cider--Newark cider, I believe they +called it--and the greater portion of it was nicely bottled, and placed in +a dark corner of the cellar, to be used, not for making vinegar, or mince +pies, but for a very different purpose--which may be surmised by such as +remember that in those days the juice of the apple had a much better +reputation than it has now. We were allowed our share of the beverage. But +we were not satisfied. We resolved ourselves into a sort of committee of +the whole, one afternoon; and after a long and somewhat spirited debate, +came to the unanimous conclusion that, in the course of human events, it +became necessary to employ the most effective measures to procure +additional supplies from the cellar. Now it so happened, that these +measures were not of the most peaceable and honorable kind. Such was their +nature, in fact, that if we had been discovered in the act of resorting to +them, it would no doubt have been deemed necessary, in the general course +of human events, that we should be soundly whipped. + +The plan was to seize a bottle once in a while, something after the manner +of privateers; though I believe the trade of privateering is regarded as +piracy, now-a-days. How times are changed! We were to go on this expedition +in rotation, from the oldest downward. We commenced, and two of us had +performed the feat. It came George Reese's turn next. You didn't know +George, I suppose. But I wish you had known him. I think you could +appreciate the story better, if you knew him as well as I did. Well, George +went down cellar, with his pitcher in his hand, thirsting for cider and +glory. You must know that there was a flight of stairs that led directly to +the cellar from the room we occupied. You should know, too, that we went +down without a light, and felt our way in the dark. George had not been +below two minutes, when we heard a report from the cellar very like the +discharge of a pistol. It was loud enough to alarm the whole house. We were +frightened. We had reason to be. Who knows, thought we, but they have set a +spring-gun for us, and poor George is badly wounded? We waited in silence, +and with not a little anxiety, for our hero to come up. + +He came at last, and a sorry looking fellow he was. He was covered from +head to foot with yeast! The cook had placed her bottle of emptyings, +tightly corked, in the village of cider bottles; and the truth flashed upon +us at once, that George had made a mistake, and captured the wrong bottle; +and the most of its contents, being a little angry at the time, were +discharged into his face. But this was not all. George thought he had +encountered a cider bottle, after all, for he could see nothing in the +cellar, and he had poured what little remained of his yeast into the +pitcher, and brought it up with him. When he made his appearance, there was +such a noisy trio of laughter as that old kitchen had seldom heard before. +This brought in the cook, and she laughed as loudly as the rest of us. +Then, to crown all, the lady of the house, hearing the noise, came to see +what we were all about; and she laughed the loudest of any body. I shall +never forget the image of George Reese, as he entered that room. It gives +me a pain in the side now, only to think of it. + +MORAL 1.--Before undertaking any enterprise similar to this cider-plot, it +is desirable to count the cost. + +MORAL 2.--In your pursuit after glory, take care that you do not come in +contact with something else that is not so pleasant. + + * * * * * + + + STORY FIFTH. + MY FIRST HUNTING-EXCURSION. + + +I shall never forget the first time I sallied out into the woods to try my +hand at hunting. Carlo, the old family dog, went with me, and he was about +as green in the matter of securing game as myself. We were pretty well +matched, I think. I played the part of Hudibras, as nearly as I can +recollect, and Carlo was a second Ralph. I had a most excellent +fowling-piece--so they said. It began its career in the French war, and was +a very veteran in service. Besides this ancient and honorable weapon, I was +provided with all the means and appliances necessary for successful +hunting. I was "armed and equipped as the law directs," to employ the words +of those semi-annual documents that used to summon me to training. + +Well, it was sometime before we--Carlo and I--started any game. Wind-mills +were scarce. For one, I began to fear we should have to return without any +adventure to call forth our skill and courage. But the brightest time is +often just before day, and so it was in this instance. Carlo began +presently to bark, and I heard a slight rustling among the leaves in the +woods. Sure enough, there was visible a large animal of some kind, though I +could not determine precisely what it was, on account of the underbrush. +However, I satisfied myself that it was rare game, at any rate; and that +point being settled, I took aim and fired. + +Carlo immediately ran to the poor victim. He was a courageous fellow, that +Carlo, especially after the danger was over. Many a time I have known him +make demonstrations as fierce as a tiger when people rode by our house, +though he generally took care not to insult them until they were at a +convenient distance. Carlo had no notion of being killed, knowing very well +that if he were dead, he could be of no service whatever to the world. +Hudibras said well when he said, + + "That he who fights and runs away, + May live to fight another day." + +[Illustration: RODERICK'S FIRST SHOT.] + +That was good logic. But Carlo went farther than this, even. He was for +running away before he fought at all; and so he always did, except when the +enemy ran away first, in which case he ran after him, as every chivalrous +dog should. In the case of the animal which I shot at, Carlo bounded to his +side when the gun was discharged, as I said before. For myself, I did not +venture quite so soon, remembering that caution is the parent of safety. By +and by, however, I mustered courage, and advanced to the spot. There lay +the victim of my first shot! It was one of my father's sheep! Poor +creature! She was sick, I believe, and went into a thicket, near a stream +of water, where she could die in peace. + +I don't know whether I hit her or not. I didn't look to see, but ran home +as fast as my legs would carry me. Thus ended the first hunting excursion +in which I ever engaged, and, though I was a mere boy then, and am somewhat +advanced now, it proved to be my last. + + + + + + SATURDAY IN WINTER. + + +I. + + Our tasks are all done, come away! come away! + For a right merry time--for a Saturday play. + See! the bright sun is shining right bravely on high; + Make haste, or he'll soon be half over the sky. + Come! first with our sleds down the glassy hill side, + And then on our skates o'er the river we'll glide. + +II. + + Now, Harry! sit firm on your sled--here we go! + Swift--swift as an arrow let fly from a bow! + Hurrah! downward rushing, how gayly we speed, + Like an Arab away on his fleet-going steed. + Hurrah! bravely done! Down the icy hill side, + Swift--swift as an arrow, again let us glide. + +III. + + And now for the river! How smooth and how bright, + Like a mirror it sleeps in the flashing sunlight. + Be sure, brother Harry, to strap your skates well; + Last time you remember how heavy you fell. + Now away! swift away! why, Harry! not down? + Are you hurt? You must take better care of your + crown. + +IV. + + Up, up, my good brother! now steady! start fair! + Away we go! swift through the keen, frosty air. + Down again! Bless me, Harry! your skates can't be + right-- + Just wait till I see--no--but now they are tight. + Here we go again! merry as school-boys can be, + From books, pens, and pencils, and black board, set free. + +V. + + Tired, at last, of our sport, home to dinner we run, + And find that, two hours ago, dinner was done. + But our meat and potatoes we relish quite well, + Though cold--and the reason we scarcely need tell. + Five hours spent in scudding and skating, I ween, + 'Twould give to such lads as we, appetites keen. + +VI. + + At last the dim twilight succeeds to the day; + Our week's work is ended, and ended our play. + 'Tis Saturday night, and we know with the morn, + Another dear Sabbath of rest will be born. + O'er wearied, we sink into slumber profound, + Assured that God's angels are watching around. + + + + + + ROVER AND HIS LITTLE MASTER. + + +[Illustration: ROVER AND HIS LITTLE MASTER.] + + +"Come, Rover!" said Harry, as he passed a fine old Newfoundland dog that +lay on a mat at the door; "come, Rover! I am going down to the river to +sail my boat, and I want you to go with me." + +Rover opened his large eyes, and looked lazily at his little master. + +"Come! Rover! Rover!" + +But the dog didn't care to move, and so Harry went off to the river side +alone. He had not been gone a great while, before a thought of her boy came +suddenly into the mother's mind. Remembering that he had a little vessel, +and that the river was near, it occurred to her that he might have gone +there. + +Instantly her heart began to throb with alarm. + +"Is Harry with you?" she called up to Harry's father, who was in his study. +But Harry's father said he was not there. + +"I'm afraid he's gone to the river with his boat," said the mother. + +"To the river!" And Mr Lee dropped his pen, and came quickly down. Taking +up his hat, he went hurriedly from the house. Rover was still lying upon +the mat, with his head upon his paws and his eyes shut. + +"Rover!" said his master, in a quick, excited voice, "where is Harry? Has +he gone to the river? Away and see! quick!" + +The dog must have understood every word, for he sprang eagerly to his feet, +and rushed toward the river. Mr Lee followed as fast as he could run. When +he reached the river bank, he saw his little boy in the water, with Rover +dragging him toward the shore. He was just in time to receive the +half-drowned child in his arms, and carry him home to his mother. + +Harry, who remained insensible, was placed in a warm bed. He soon, however, +revived, and in an hour or two was running about again. But after this, +Rover would never leave the side of his little master, when he wandered +beyond the garden gate. Wherever you found Harry, there Rover was sure to +be--sometimes walking by his side, and sometimes lying on the grass, with +his big eyes watching every movement. + +Once Harry found his little vessel, which had been hidden away since he +went with it to the river, and, without his mother's seeing him, he started +again for the water. Rover, as usual, was with him. On his way to the +river, he saw some flowers, and, in order to gather them, put his boat down +upon the grass. Instantly Rover picked it up in his mouth, and walked back +toward the house with it. After going a little way, he stopped, looked +around, and waited until Harry had got his hand full of flowers. The child +then saw that Rover had his boat, and tried to get it from him; but Rover +played around him, always keeping out of his reach, and retreating toward +the house, until he got back within the gate. Then he bounded into the +house, and laid the boat at the feet of Harry's mother. + +Harry was a little angry with the good old dog, at first, but when his +mother explained to him what Rover meant, he hugged him around the neck, +and said he would never go down to the river again any more. + +Harry is a man now, and Rover has long since been dead; but he often thinks +of the dear old dog that saved him from drowning when he was a child; and +it gives him great pleasure to remember that he never beat Rover, as some +boys beat their dogs, when they are angry, and was never unkind to him. Had +it been otherwise, the thought would have given him great pain. + + + + + SOMETHING WRONG. + + +[Illustration: SOMETHING WRONG.] + + +What's the matter here? There is something wrong. It is clear that the +little boy in the picture is not receiving kind treatment at the hands of +his sister. But what is she doing to him? Not pulling his ear, we hope. +Something is wrong; what can it be? We must try and make it out. There is a +whip and a top on the floor, and also a chair thrown down, to which a +string is tied. + +The little boy, we suppose, was whipping his top, while his sister was +playing with the chair. + +"Take care, now, Johnny," says the sister, as the lash of her brother's +whip comes every little while close to her face; "take care, or you will +cut me in the eyes." + +But Johnny either doesn't hear, or doesn't heed, and keeps on whipping his +top. + +"There, now!" says Anna, "you came as near as could be to striking me. I +wish you would go out into the passage or down into the dining-room with +your top." + +"John," says mamma, looking up from her work, "you must be careful and not +cut your sister with that whip." + +"No, ma'am," replies Johnny, and keeps on with his sport as carelessly as +ever. + +Presently there is a cry, and then an angry exclamation. The lash of +Johnny's whip has fallen with a smarting stroke on Anna's neck. The little +girl, without waiting to reflect, follows the impulse of her feelings, and +seeks to punish her brother by pinching and pulling his ears. + +This is the story of the picture, and we are sorry it will not bear a more +favorable explanation. + +We do not think that any of our young readers will approve the conduct of +either of the children. Undoubtedly, Johnny was wrong not to have been more +careful how he threw his lash about. Anna had as much right to be in the +room as he had, and if Johnny wanted to whip his top, it was his place to +do it so cautiously as not in the least to endanger his sister's face and +eyes; and he deserved to have his top taken from him as a punishment for +his carelessness and indifference; and no doubt this was done by his +mother. + +And Anna was wrong, likewise, for permitting her angry feelings to so carry +her away as to lead her to hurt her brother, in revenge for what he had +done to her. So, you see, Johnny's wrong act was the cause of a still +greater departure from right in his sister. If Johnny had loved his sister, +he would have been much more careful how he used his whip; and if Anna had +loved her brother, she would never have been tempted to strike him or pull +his ear, even if he had hurt her. + +It is a very sad thing for little brothers and sisters to quarrel with each +other. + + "Birds in their little nests agree, + And 'tis a shameful sight, + When children of one family, + Fall out, and chide, and fight." + +We hope, among all our little readers, there is not a brother and sister +who have quarreled--who have ever called each other hard names--or, worse, +who have ever lifted their tiny hands to hurt each other. + + + + + THE FAVORITE CHILD. + + +[Illustration: THE FAVORITE CHILD.] + + +In a very pretty little village not many miles from N----, in Connecticut, +lived Susan Meredith. She was the youngest of three sisters, the eldest of +whom could not be more than twelve or thirteen years of age. A year or two +before the period when our history of this little group commences, the +mother had gone to her rest. + +Weighed down with a sorrow too heavy to be borne, and of a nature too +delicate to be confided to others, she sank under it while in the noon of +life, and died commending her children to God. Susan--little Sue, as she +was frequently called--young as she was, remembered a thousand incidents +connected with the departed one, and seemed, so late as the time at which +our story begins, to be never happier than when her mother was the theme of +conversation. + +There was something remarkable in this. One reason for it might have been, +that the surviving parent of these sisters, though once a kind and +affectionate father, was now so altered by habits of intemperance, that +they found very little enjoyment in his society. But there was another +reason. Little Sue was an unusually thoughtful, serious child, for one of +her years. Was there not another reason, still? I do not know. I cannot +tell what words God may whisper to the child that loves him; but this I +know, that little Sue talked much of heaven, and seemed to have learned +more of the language of heaven than men can teach. + +One bright Saturday, in the early spring time, when there was no school, +these sisters might have been seen winding their way through the woods, not +far from the house where they lived, searching for the first wild flowers. +Little Sue, the youngest, was very happy, but, as usual, more grave than +the other sisters. By and by, wearied with their walk, they sat down under +the shadow, of a tree, and talked a great while. At first, the conversation +was about birds and flowers; but Sue soon gave a serious turn to it. + +"I wonder," said she, "if dear mother has pretty flowers in heaven. I hope +so--she loved them so well. Do you remember the little monthly rose she +wanted we should bring into her room, just before she died? How happy she +was, when one of us went and brought it to her bed. And she went to heaven +so soon after that! Oh, I think there must be flowers up there in the sky, +or she would not have thought of them and loved them so, when she was +dying. Don't you think so?" + +And she was silent. So were her sisters, awhile. Thoughts of heaven made +them serious. They were sad, too. When the youngest--their darling +Sue--conversed in this strain, a cloud always came over their sunny faces. +They could scarcely tell why it was so; for they, too, loved to think of +heaven. But the language of their sister seemed to them to belong to +another world; and often, in the midst of their brightest hopes, would come +the fear, like a thunderbolt, that God would crush that cherished flower, +and remove her from their embrace while she was young. + +"Sue," at length said Eliza, the eldest sister, "why do you always talk so +much about heaven?" + +"I don't know," was the reply; "perhaps, because I think a good deal about +it. I dreamed last night"---- + +"Oh, I thought so," said Maria, playfully interrupting her sister; "I +should think the little fairies were playing hide and seek all around your +pillow every night. I wish they would whisper in my ears as they do in +yours. Why, the naughty things hardly ever speak to me, and when they do, +they tell a very different story from those they tell you. It is generally +about falling down from a church steeple, or something of that kind. Well, +what did they say to you this time, dear?" + +"I never had such a dream before," said the favorite, her face glowing with +a new, almost an unearthly radiance; "I mean I never had one just like it. +When dear mother died, you remember I told you a dream about the angels. +Last night I thought they came to me again, and I saw mother, too, so +clearly!" + +She stopped, and her eyes fell. She seemed almost sorry that she had said +as much; for she had not forgotten that the former dream to which she +alluded had caused her sisters pain, and she thought, that perhaps she +should make them unhappy again, if she related her dream of the night +before. But her sisters begged her to go on, and she did so. + +"When I went to sleep," said she, "I was thinking of--of--what father had +said to me"--and she burst into a flood of tears. Her sisters wept, too; +for they well remembered that their father had come home intoxicated that +night, and that he had spoken very harshly to them all, and especially to +the youngest. They could not say much to console her. What could they say? +Silently they wept, and by their tears and embraces they told her how +deeply they sympathized with her, and how much they would do for her, if +they could. When the little dreamer was able to go on, she said, + +"I was thinking about this when I went to sleep. I thought I was crying, +and wondering why God should let dear mother die, and leave us all alone, +when I heard some one say, 'Look up,' I looked up in the sky, and all the +stars were windows, and I saw through them. I saw heaven--so beautiful--so +beautiful! I saw mother looking out of one of these windows, and she +smiled, as she did when we brought the rose to her bed-side. I heard her +call my name, and she reached her arms toward me, and said, 'You may come,' +Oh, this was not like other dreams"---- + +"Don't think of it, dear sister; don't think of it any more," said Eliza. +"You was not well last night, and I have often heard, that when people are +ill, their dreams are more apt to be disturbed. But we will not say any +more about it now, dear." + +"No," said Maria; "we shall all feel too sad, if we do." And she made an +effort to be cheerful; though tears stood in her eyes as she spoke. + +"I don't know why it makes others feel sad to think of heaven," said the +favorite. "I should love dearly to go there." + +"But then it is so dreadful to die!" + +"I know it; but mother was so happy when she died!" + +"Would you be willing to leave your sisters, dear Sue?" + +"No; not unless I could see my mother and Christ. Oh, I do love Christ more +than all the rest of my friends! Do you think that is wrong?" + +The three sisters slowly and thoughtfully bent their steps homeward, and +just as the sun was setting, and the western clouds were spread with the +beauty and glory of twilight, they entered that cottage which, though the +abode of sorrow, was yet dear and sacred to them, because it was once the +home of their mother. + +From that time, the gentle, loving, thoughtful little Sue, faded--faded as +a flower in the autumn wind. She had not been well for weeks; and soon it +was evident that she was rapidly declining. Was her dream a cause or an +effect--a cause of her decline, or an effect of an illness already preying +upon her frail system? Perhaps we cannot tell. There is something very +remarkable about many dreams. It is not easy to account for them all, by +what is known of the laws of the mind. But we must not stop now to inquire +into this matter. + +Step by step, that cherished sister went downward to the grave; and before +the summer had come, while the early violet and the pure anemone were still +in bloom, God called her home. Peacefully and beautifully her sun went +down. "They have come," she said. So died the youngest--the favorite child. + + + + + THE MINE. + + +[Illustration: THE MINE.] + + +There are three kingdoms in nature--the Mineral kingdom, the Vegetable +kingdom, and the Animal kingdom--the former for the sake of the latter, and +all for the sake of man. Without the Vegetable kingdom animals could not +exist, and without the Mineral kingdom vegetables could not exist. + +It is also worthy of remark, that in all the inferior kingdoms of nature, +there is an image of what is superior. The lowest of all the kingdoms is +the Mineral kingdom, where every thing takes a fixed form, and where all +changes are the work of centuries, instead of days and months, as in the +Vegetable and Animal kingdoms. Yet, in this dull, inert kingdom, we find a +certain image of the one next above, in the upright or orderly forms into +which many of its substances arrange themselves. Under circumstances of +more than usual freedom, particles of matter in this kingdom will assume +shapes so nearly resembling those of the Vegetable kingdom, that many were +at first disposed to conclude that they were mere petrifactions; as in the +case of formations at the bottom of the ocean, and those that take place in +caverns. But we will not wonder at this, when we remember, that the use of +the Mineral kingdom is to sustain the Vegetable kingdom, in order that the +latter may sustain the Animal kingdom. Use, it must be remembered, is the +great law that pervades, sustains, and holds in harmonious order, the whole +universe. + +In the Vegetable kingdom we see a still nearer approach to man. There is +motion and life--not conscious life, but a kind of insensible existence. +Nearly all the members of this kingdom elevate themselves toward heaven, +and stand upright, like men. + +In the Animal kingdom there is still greater perfection of life and +freedom. Beasts move over the earth, birds fly through the air, and fishes +change their places, at will, in the sea. This is the highest and most +perfect kingdom, and it is for the sake of this that the others exist. And, +as was just said, all three are for the sake of man. They go to sustain his +natural life, while he remains in this world. + +The variety and beauty in the two higher kingdoms are displayed to the eyes +of all. But the wonders of the Mineral kingdom are hidden beneath the +surface. Mines have to be opened, in order to obtain the metals and +precious stones that the earth hides in her bosom; and man can only obtain +them through hard and patient labor. Hundreds of feet below the surface of +the ground, the miner, with no light to direct his labor but that given him +by his dimly burning safety-lamp, toils on, unconscious of the day's +opening or decline. The sun does not rise nor set for him. He is not warned +by the home-returning bee, the dimly falling shadows of evening, nor the +sudden cry of the night-bird, that the hour of rest has come. But the body +cannot endure labor beyond a certain number of hours. Tired nature calls +for repose, and the call must be obeyed. Even the miner must have his hours +of rest; and then he comes forth, it may be, from his gloomy place of +labor, once more into the sunlight; or sinks to sleep in the dark chambers +where he toils for bread. + +When you look at a piece of metal, whether it be gold, silver, copper, or +iron, remember that it has been won from its hidden place, deep in the +solid earth, by the hard labor of man. + + * * * * * + + + + + THE MINER. + + + Down where the daylight never comes + Toileth the miner on; + He sees not the golden morning break-- + He sees not the setting sun. + + Dimly his lamp in the dark vault burns, + And he sits on the miner's hard floor, + Toiling, toiling, toiling on; + Toiling for precious ore! + + The air is wet; for the dew and rain, + Drank by the thirsty ground, + Have won their way to his dark retreat, + And are trickling all around--- + + And sickly vapors are near his lips, + And close to his wire-net lamp, + Unseen, as an evil spirit comes, + Up stealeth the dread fire-damp! + + But the miner works on, though death is by, + And fears not the monster grim; + For the wiry gauze, round his steady light, + Makes a safety-lamp for him. + + Rough and rude, and of little worth, + Seems the ore that the miner brings + From the hidden places where lie concealed + Earth's rare and precious things; + + But, tried awhile in the glowing fire, + It is rough and rude no more; + Art moulds the iron, and forms the gold, + And fashions the silver ore. + + And useful, rare, and beautiful things, + 'Neath the hand of skill arise: + Oh! a thousand thousand human wants + The miner's toil supplies! + + + + + VISIT TO FAIRY LAND. + + +So, then, you want to hear some stories about the fairies, do you, little +girl? Well, I must humor you a little, I suppose; though I should not +wonder if my fairy stories were somewhat different from those you have +heard before. But have you the least idea that there were ever such beings +as the fairies in the world? If you have, let me tell you, you are quite +mistaken. The stories that have been told about these fairy people are none +of them worthy of belief, though it must be admitted that millions have +believed them. Many of the men and women who pretended to have seen the +fairies, and who related the stories in the first place, believed all they +said, I have no doubt. But they were generally ignorant persons, very +superstitious, and easily imposed upon. There are, it is true, invisible +inhabitants in this world. Those who believe the Bible, can hardly doubt +the presence of angels among us. But angels, as they are represented in the +Scriptures, are a very different class of spirits from those called +fairies, if we may credit what has been said of this singular race of +beings, by those who pretend to have seen them in fairy land. + +Not a great while ago, the people of England and Scotland were very +superstitious. It is not two centuries since our good forefathers on that +island were burning witches by scores. At that time, a great many believed +in the existence of fairies, or elves. I have been at some pains to find +out at what time this fairy superstition first appeared among the Britons. +But it seems not very easy to determine. One thing is certain, that the +belief in some kind of spirits--either the same with the fairies, under a +different name, or very nearly related to them--dates back to a very early +period in British history--earlier, probably, than the Christian era. + +The fairies are always represented as very small and very +beautiful--generally, as perfect miniatures of the human form. The color of +their dress is uniformly pure green. It would seem, according to the +accounts of these people, some five or six hundred years ago, that they +were kind, amiable, excellent neighbors. Indeed, one of the names they went +by was, "the Good Neighbors," and another was, "the Men of Peace." Still, +they used to do some mischief in those days, if we may believe their +historians, who tell us that the fairies, once in a while, visited the +abodes of men, and carried away captives into their invisible haunts, under +ground. The reason for this kidnapping of human beings was said to be, that +the fairies were obliged occasionally to pay a tribute of this kind to +their king or queen. + +The fairies were not always cunning enough to keep their victims, after +they had caught them. Sometimes people would come back from fairy land, and +tell all about what they had seen there. You might suppose that a great +deal would be learned of these strange, invisible creatures, from the men +and women who had been with them and escaped. Well, so there was. But the +worst of it was, the stories did not hang together very well; and there +were about as many different and contradictory accounts of fairydom as +there were different individuals who pretended to have made a visit to that +country. However, all seemed to agree that fairy land was a very merry +country. The people there were great lovers of fun, according to the +general testimony, and used to dance a great deal by moonlight, in the open +air. They are engaged in one of their dances, you see, in the engraving. +Every evening, as soon as the moon rose, they assembled at some convenient +place, took hold of each other's hands, usually in a ring, I think, and +then they had a right merry time of it, you may depend. It did not seem to +make any difference, whether the spot selected for the dance was on the +land or on the sea. Indeed, they could dance pretty well in the air, +without any thing to stand upon. The assemblies held in the palaces of the +king and queen of the fairies, were, at times, splendid in the extreme. No +poet, in his most lofty flights of fancy, ever dreamed of such beauty and +splendor as were exhibited at the fairy court. They rode on milk-white +steeds. Their dresses were of brilliant green, and were rich beyond +conception. When they mingled in the dance, or moved in procession among +the shady groves, or over the delightful meadows, covered with the fairest +of flowers, music, such as mortal lips cannot utter, floated on the breeze. + +However, these splendors, astonishing as they were, all vanished in a +moment, whenever the eye of any one gifted with the power of spiritual +communion was turned upon them. Then their treasures of gold and silver +became slate-stones, and their stately halls were turned into damp caverns. +They themselves, instead of being the beautiful creatures they were before, +became ugly as a hedge-fence. + +The king of fairy land was called _Oberon_--the queen, _Titania_. +The king used to wear a crown of jewels on his head, and he always carried +a horn in his hand, which set every body around him to dancing, whenever he +blew it. Ben Jonson, a poet who flourished a great many years ago, speaks +very respectfully of fairies and elves, in his poems. In describing the +haunts of his "Sad Shepherd," he says-- + + + "There, in the stocks of trees, white fays do dwell, + And span-long elves that dance about a pool." + + +Shakspeare, too, in several of his plays, makes us quite familiar with the +fairy people. Shakspeare, you are aware, wrote in the time of Elizabeth, +and as late as that period, there were thousands in England and Scotland in +whose creed the existence of such a race of spirits was a very important +article. It was not long, however, after this, before the superstition +about the fairies--which, at the worst, was a very foolish affair--began to +decline. But that decline brought a dark night to thousands of poor, +innocent men and women; for then came the era of witchcraft, and persons of +every rank, convicted of this imaginary crime, were hurried to the scaffold +or the stake. + +In the beginning of the seventeenth century, Dr. Corbett, Bishop of Oxford +and Norwich, wrote a very humorous satire on the fairy superstition, called +"The Fairies' Farewell, a proper new ballad to be sung or whistled to the +tune of Meadow Brow." Perhaps I cannot better take leave of these very +curious imaginary people, than to employ a couple of stanzas from the +bishop's playful ballad: + + + "Witness those rings and roundelays + Of theirs, which yet remain, + Were footed in Queen Mary's days, + On many a grassy plain; + But since of late Elizabeth, + And later James came in, + They never danced on any heath, + As when the time hath been. + + "By which we note the fairies + Were of the old profession; + Their songs were Ave Marias, + Their dances were processions; + But now, alas! they all are dead, + Or gone beyond the seas, + Or further for religion fled, + Or else they take their ease." + + + + + THE HERMIT. + + +A Traveler was once passing through a great wilderness, in which he +supposed no human being dwelt. But, while riding along in its gloomiest +part, he was surprised to see a hermit, his face covered with a long +beard, that hung down upon his breast, sitting on a stone at the +entrance of what seemed a cave. + +The hermit arose as the traveler drew up his horse, and speaking kindly to +him, invited him to accept such refreshment as it was in his power to +offer. The traveler did not refuse, but, dismounting, tied his horse to a +tree, and, following the pious man, entered the narrow door of a little +cave which nature had formed in the side of a mountain. All the hermit had +to set before the traveler, was water from a pure stream that came merrily +leaping down the hill side, and some wild fruit and nuts. + +"Tell me," said the traveler, after he had eaten, "why a man with a sound +body, such as you possess, and a sound mind, should hide away from his +fellow-men, in a dreary wild like this?" + +"For pious meditation and repentance," replied the hermit. "All is vanity +in the world. Its beauties charm but to allure from heaven. And worse than +this, it is full of evil. Turn where you will, pain, sorrow, and crime meet +your eyes. But here, in the silence of nature, there is nothing to draw the +mind from holy thoughts; there is no danger of falling into temptation. By +pious meditation and prayer, we are purified and made fit for heaven." + +"Not so," answered the traveler; "pious meditation and prayer are of no +avail without good be done to our fellow-men. Piety is nothing without +charity; and charity consists in willing well and doing well to our +neighbors. 'And now abideth faith, hope, and charity,' says the Apostle, +'but the greatest of these is charity,' Hermit, you are not wise thus to +retire from the midst of the busy world. Your service cannot be acceptable +to God. Go back again among your fellow-men, and faithfully perform your +real duties in life. Heal the sick, comfort the mourner, bind up the broken +heart, and in the various walks of life do good to friend and enemy. +Without this, how can you hope in the judgment to hear the Lord say, 'As +much as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me?'" + +The hermit, at such unexpected words, bowed his head, and was silent. The +traveler went on, and said-- + +"You have committed a common error, in supposing that in holy meditation, +as it is called, there was any thing particularly pleasing to God. But +reason will tell you why the widow's mite is more acceptable in heaven than +the most pious thoughts of idle self-righteousness. Hermit! go back again +into the world, and there act your part as a man in the great social body. +Only by this means will you be prepared to live and act in the great body +of angels in heaven." + +The hermit could not reply, but still sat with his head bowed to his bosom, +and his eyes upon the ground. The words of the stranger fell with strokes +of reproof upon his heart. + +When the traveler returned that way, he sought for the hermit, but found +him not at the door of his cave. He entered, but the place had been a long +time deserted. The erring man had gone back into the world, and taken his +place among his fellows. And he had done right. No man is wise who retires +from society, and shuts himself up in the hope of becoming better through +prayer and pious thoughts. Only by doing our duty to our fellow-men, in +some particular pursuit in life, can we hope to grow better and wiser? + + + + + A PICTURE. + + +[Illustration: A PICTURE.] + + +What have we here? That kind-looking old gentleman must have something for +these children; his hand is in his pocket, and they are all gathering +around him. I wonder who he is, and what he is going to give them? + +"He's their uncle, may be." + +"Or their grandfather." + +"Or somebody else that is kind to children." + +No doubt of it in the world. He is some one who likes children, you may be +sure. And I suppose he's got a pocket full of sugar-plums or nuts for his +favorites. The little girl who has seized his cane, I rather think, will +get the largest share; but I don't suppose her young companions will be at +all displeased at this, for no doubt she is a very good girl, and beloved +by all. Indeed, if we may judge by the faces of the children, not one of +them will look at what the other receives, to see if he has not obtained +the largest share. + +This is not always so, however. I know some little boys and girls, who, +when their parents, relatives, or friends give them cakes, candies, or +playthings, immediately look from what they have themselves to what the +others have received, and, if one thinks his share smaller or inferior, +becomes dissatisfied, and, from a jealous and envious spirit, sacrifices +his own pleasure and that of all the rest. Because there is a square inch +more of cake in his brother's piece, that which he has doesn't taste good. +If he have one sugar-plum less than the others, they become tasteless, and +he throws them all, perhaps, upon the floor. + +How bad all this looks, and how very bad it really is! The friends of such +children are never encouraged to make them presents. They rather avoid +doing so; for they know that their greedy, envious, covetous spirit, will +turn the good things they would offer them into causes of strife and +unhappiness. + + + + + THE BOY AND THE ROBIN. + + +I. + + So now, pretty robin, you've come to my door; + I wonder you never have ventured before: + 'Tis likely you thought I would do you some harm; + But pray, sir, what cause have you seen for alarm? + +II. + + You seem to be timid--I'd like to know why-- + Did I ever hurt you? What makes you so shy? + You shrewd little rogue, I've a mind, ere you go, + To tell you a thing it concerns you to know. + +III + + You think I have never discovered your nest; + 'Tis hid pretty snugly, it must be confessed. + Ha! ha! how the boughs are entwined all around! + No wonder you thought it would never be found. + +IV. + + You're as cunning a robin as ever I knew; + And yet, ha! ha! ha! I'm as cunning as you! + I know all about your nice home on the tree--'Twas + nonsense to try to conceal it from me. + +V. + + I know--for but yesterday I was your guest-- + How many young robins there are in your nest; + And pardon me, sir, if I venture to say, + They've had not a morsel of dinner to-day. + +VI. + + But you look very sad, pretty robin, I see, + As you glance o'er the meadow, to yonder green tree; + I fear I have thoughtlessly given you pain, + And I will not prattle so lightly again. + +VII. + + Go home, where your mate and your little ones dwell; + Though I know where they are, yet I never will tell; + Nobody shall injure that leaf-covered nest, + For sacred to me is the place of your rest. + +VIII. + + Adieu! for you want to be flying away, + And it would be cruel to ask you to stay; + But come in the morning, come early, and sing, + For dearly I love you, sweet warbler of spring. + + + + + SOMETHING ABOUT CONSCIENCE: + OR MR MASON'S STORY. + + +Two little boys, Robert and Samuel, were one day assisting the gardener +about some flower-beds. They were rather young to be of much service to the +old man, and gave him some trouble, once in a while, by the clumsy way in +which they did their work. Still, they meant to please the gardener, and he +ought not to have got out of patience, if they did now and then make a +blunder. Well, he was usually very patient and kind; but that day, for some +reason or another, things did not go right with him at all. Pianos and +violins, though they sometimes make sweet music, get out of tune +occasionally, and then, no matter what you try to play on them, nothing +sounds well. It is so with men and women too often; and with boys and +girls, too, it is to be feared. At any rate, it was so with Mr Mason's +gardener, at the time I speak of. He was peevish and fretful, and said some +harsh things to Robert, because he accidentally destroyed a fine tulip with +his spade. Robert cried, and said he did not mean to do it. Then the old +man was sorry, but, probably feeling too proud to confess it, he was silent +for a long time. By and by, however, he told Robert that his conscience +troubled him on account of his speaking so unkindly, and he hoped the +little boy would forgive him. So you see the gardener was a good man, +although he was hasty at that time. Robert cheerfully forgave him, and +things went on a good deal better. The boys tried to be more careful, and +the gardener tried to be more patient. + +[Illustration: THE GARDENER REPROVING ROBERT.] + +Robert thought a good deal about the old man's mention of conscience, and +when he saw his father, he asked him what the conscience meant. + +Robert's father liked to have his children make such inquiries, and did all +that he could to encourage them in doing so. + +"There are two ways, Robert," said he, "of explaining things. One is by +telling what they are, directly, and the other is by telling what they do. +I find that my children generally like the last of these methods better +than they do the first; and I am not sure but, on the whole, it is quite as +good as the other. At any rate, I shall try to describe conscience by +pointing out some of its effects. In other words, I shall tell you a story. +Some twenty-five years ago--it may be thirty; how time slides away!--I knew +a boy who had one of the kindest of mothers, but whose father had died +before his recollection. I think--indeed I know--he loved his mother, +though he was sometimes thoughtless, and once in a while disobedient. One +day, in midsummer, when the blackberries were ripe in the woods, and the +trout were sporting merrily in the brook, Charles--for that was the name of +the boy--came running to his mother, all out of breath, and said that +Joseph Cone and Charley Corson had come with their baskets and fish-lines, +and wanted he should go with them. 'Oh, such fine times as they are going +to have, mother! Mayn't I go? Blackberries are ripe now, and there are lots +of them over in Mr Simpson's woods. And oh! such splendid trout! One of the +boys caught a trout last Saturday, so big that he couldn't hardly pull it +out of the water! Oh, I _do_ want to go, mother! I'll bring home a +fine string of trout--I know I will. Ha! ha! ha!' And Charley danced up and +down the room, and clapped his hands, and laughed very loudly at the idea, +I suppose, of his outwitting the simple little fish." + +Robert laughed, too, when his father came to this part of the story, and +said he thought that was something like counting the chickens before they +were hatched. + +"Yes," continued Mr Mason; "but I am afraid that was not the worst of it, +by a good deal; for Charles knew well enough that his mother wanted him at +home that day, and he ought not to have urged her so hard. 'My dear,' said +that kind, indulgent lady, 'I will let you do just as you choose about +going. You know I want you to help me about the house to-day, and I should +be very sorry to have you leave me. But I don't wish to govern you by +force. I want to see you mind because you love me--not because you are +obliged to. So I shall not say any more. Do as you please, this time.' + +"Charles thought a moment or two. He saw plainly enough that there were two +sides to the question about going a-fishing that day. His mother was not +very well. He thought of that; and he thought that if he went, she would +have more work to do, and perhaps she would then be quite sick. His +conscience was at work, you see. 'Well,' he thought, 'I guess I will let +the trout stay where they are to-day,' But just then he heard one of the +boys say, 'Halloo, Charley! what do you say? We're tired of waiting. Shall +we go without you, or will you come along?' + +"Well, what do you think Charley did, Robert?" + +"Why, he stayed at home, and helped his mother, of course." + +"No, I'm sorry to say that he changed his mind, and started off with the +boys. His conscience said _no_, but his will said _yes_." + +"Then he did very wrong." + +"So I think. But the truth must be told. Charley took his fishing +apparatus, and whistled for his little dog, Caper, and away the three boys +ran, toward the brook. + +"'Let's go to the deep hole under the elm tree. That's where Bill Havens +caught the big trout, the other day,' said one. + +"Bill Havens, as they called him, was one of the most noted fishermen in +the place. I knew him well. He was always sure to succeed, wherever and +whenever he went out with his hook and line. I have been to this deep hole +with Bill Havens, more than once, and have seen him catch half a dozen +large pickerel, when I could not, by any of my skill, persuade a single +fish to come out of the brook. + +[Illustration: BILL HAVENS AT THE DEEP HOLE.] + +"'But we shall have to cross the brook,' said Charley, 'and how in the +world are we going to do that? The foot-bridge was swept away by the +freshet, you know.' + +"'Oh, I'll see about that. I know where there's an old tree that lies clear +across the stream. We can get over on that, just as well as we could over +the foot-bridge,' + +"And so they started for the old tree, which was to serve them for a +bridge. It had been blown down by the wind, and had fallen across the +stream, so that the large end rested on the side where the boys were, while +the upper limbs reached the opposite bank. When the boys got to the tree, +they saw that it was not quite so convenient a bridge as they could wish; +and Charley Mason, who was not by any means a headstrong lad, and not used +to such adventures, said he would rather not attempt to cross it. But the +other two boys laughed at him, and told him not to be a coward; and he +finally determined he would venture, if the others succeeded. They did +succeed, and Charley, not without some trembling--which, of course, made +his danger the greater--prepared to follow. 'Take care, Charley! take care! +Rather dangerous business, isn't it? Cling closely to the tree. There--so. +Don't look down into the water, or you'll be dizzy. That's the way. Come +on, now. Don't hang on to that dry limb! It will break and let you fall +into the water, if you do. How the poor fellow trembles! _Plash_! +There he goes, I declare!' + +[Illustration: CHARLES CROSSING THE BROOK.] + +"Sure enough, Charles had slipped and fallen into the stream! and his +companions, so frightened that they hardly knew what they did, took to +their heels, and ran as fast as they could toward home!" + +"Poor Charley! he was drowned, then?" said Robert. + +"No, he managed to get out of the water; but he had a hard time of it, +though. He could not swim very well, at the best; and with all his clothes +on, it was as much as he could do to swim at all. If the river had been a +little wider, he never could have got out alone. As it was, however, by the +help of some rocks there were in the brook, he reached the shore, pretty +thoroughly exhausted, and not a little frightened. His zeal for +trout-fishing was by this time a good deal cooled off, as you may suppose. +The nearest he came to catching any of those cunning little fellows that +day, was when he tumbled into the brook; and then he had something else to +think of. + +"There he was, alone, wet as a drowned rat, and shivering, partly from cold +and partly from fright, as if he had the ague. Poor fellow! His conscience +began to be heard again, now he had time to think. He hardly knew what to +do; he was ashamed to go home to his mother; and there he stood, for a good +while, leaning his head on the fence near the water, the tears all the time +chasing each other down his cheeks." + +"I don't wonder he cried," said Robert; "but I can't help laughing to think +what a sorry figure he must have made there, on the bank! And he was going +to bring home such a nice string of fish, too! I wonder if his mother did +not laugh when she saw him coming. Did he stay there, father, shivering and +crying, till some body came after him?" + +[Illustration: CHARLES, AFTER THE DUCKING.] + +"No, he started for home before any of the neighbors reached the spot where +he fell into the river; and, as they missed him on the way, they supposed +he was drowned, and searched for his body half an hour or more, till they +learned he was safe at home." + +"Well, what did his mother say to him, father?" + +"She did not say much, poor woman. She was not well, as I said before, when +Charles left her; and as her servant had gone away for a week, and she had +no one but him to assist her in her work, she became very much fatigued; +and when she heard that Charles had fallen into the river, she fainted +immediately. She had hardly recovered when the boy reached the house." + +"I think Charles was a very bad boy." + +"Not so much worse than many others, perhaps, as you may suppose. You judge +of the boy's conduct by the consequences of it. If he had been successful +in his trout-fishing, and no accident had happened to his mother, you would +not have thought half as much of his guilt in acting contrary to his +mother's wishes." + +"Certainly not." + +"But the boy would have been just as bad, for all that." + +"I can't see how, father." + +"Why, the boy, when he was thinking what he would do about going on that +fishing excursion, could not have foreseen all that would happen if he +went. Do you think he could?" + +"No, sir, not all, I suppose. But I am sure he was a very bad boy, whether +he knew what would happen or not." + +"Yes, no doubt. But I want you to see exactly where his guilt lay. It was +simply in his not yielding to his mother's wish, when she so kindly left +him at liberty to do as he chose; especially as he knew she was ill, and +needed his assistance." + +"Charley deserved a good whipping." + +"Well, he _was_ punished severely." + +"Did his mother punish him?" + +"No, for weeks she was too ill for that; and if she had been well, probably +she would not have punished him." + +"How did he get punished?" + +"By his own conscience. He felt that he had done wrong, and that made him +very unhappy. He saw, then, that he had been very unkind to his mother, and +that his unkindness cost her pain and sorrow. He would rather have given +all his playthings--every one of his toys--than to feel as he did then. +Indeed, I think he would prefer the severest punishment from his mother, to +the wound which his conscience inflicted. Do you understand now, my son, +what is meant by conscience?" + +"I think I do. When we are sorry for any thing we have done, it is the +conscience that makes us feel so." + +"Not always. Charles was no doubt very sorry he had tried to cross the +river on the tree, because he fell into the water, and came near being +drowned. But the conscience had nothing to do with this sorrow. When we see +that we have carelessly or wilfully injured some one--hurt his feelings, +perhaps--or when we reflect that we have disobeyed God, and feel grieved +and sorry on this account, then the conscience is the cause of our pain. So +you see that it is one of the numerous proofs of the wisdom and the +goodness of God, that he has given mankind a conscience. Take care, my son, +that you listen to its voice." + + + + + OLD NED. + + +Not many years ago, Farmer Jones had an old horse named "Ned," who appeared +to have almost as much sense as some people. Ned was a favorite with his +master, who petted him as if he were a child instead of a dumb animal. The +horse seemed to understand every word that the farmer said to him, and +would obey him quite as readily and with as much intelligence as Rover, the +house dog. If his master came into the field where he was grazing, Ned +would come galloping up to meet him, and then caper round as playfully, +though not, it must be owned, as gracefully, as a kitten. + +Farmer Jones, on these occasions, generally had an ear or two of corn in +his pocket; and Ned, whose nose had been many a time in that capacious +receptacle of odds and ends, after sweeping around his master two or three +times, would stop short and come sideling up, half coquetishly, yet with a +knowing twinkle in his eye, and commence a search for the little tidbit +that he had good reason for knowing lay snugly stored away in the pocket. + +[Illustration: OLD NED.] + +If any one besides his master went into the field and tried to catch Ned, +he was sure to have a troublesome time of it; and if he succeeded in his +object before circling the field a dozen times in pursuit of the horse, he +might think himself lucky. But a word or a motion of the hand from Farmer +Jones was all-sufficient. Ned would become, instantly, as docile as a +child, trot up to his side, and stand perfectly still to receive the saddle +and bridle. + +When Farmer Jones was on the back of Ned, or sitting behind him in the old +chaise, no horse could be more even in his gait, or more orderly in all his +movements. But it wasn't safe for any one else to try the experiment of +riding or driving him. If he escaped without a broken neck, he might think +himself exceedingly fortunate; for the moment any one but his master +attempted to govern his actions in any way, he became possessed with a +spirit that was sometimes more than mischievous. He would kick up, bite, +wheel suddenly around, rear up on his hind feet, and do almost every thing +except go ahead in an orderly way, as a respectable horse ought to have +done. + +Ned was too great a favorite with his master for the latter to think of +trying very hard to correct him of these bad practices. He would talk to +him, sometimes, about the folly of an old horse like him prancing about, +and cutting up as many antics as a young colt; but his words, it was clear, +went into one of Ned's ears and out of the other, as people say, for Ned +did not in the least mend his manners, although he would nod his head in a +knowing and obedient way, while his master was talking to him. + +Ned spent at least two thirds of his time, from the period when the grass +sprung up, tender and green, until it became pale and crisp with frost, in +a three-acre field belonging to his master, where he ate, walked about, +rolled himself on the soft sward, or slept away the hours, as happy as a +horse could be. Across one corner of this field a little boy and his sister +used every day to go to school. The little boy was a namesake of the horse; +but he was usually called Neddy. One day Neddy felt rather mischievous, as +little boys will feel sometimes. He had a long willow switch in his hand, +and was cutting away at every thing that came within his reach. He +frightened a brood of chickens, and laughed merrily to see them scamper in +every direction; he made an old hog grunt, and a little pig squeal, and was +even so thoughtless as to strike with his slender switch a little lamb, +that lay close beside its mother on the soft grass. + +"Don't, don't, Neddy," Jane, his sister, would say. + +But the little fellow gave no heed to her words. At last, in crossing the +field, they came to where the old horse lay under the shade of a great +walnut tree. The temptation to let him have a taste of the switch was too +strong for Neddy to resist; so he passed up close to the horse, and gave +him a smart cut across the shoulders. + +Now that was an indignity to which the old fellow was not prepared to +submit. Why, it was at least ten years since the stroke of a whip had been +felt upon his glossy skin. Whip and spur were of the times long since gone +by. Springing up as quickly as if he were only a colt instead of a grave +old horse, Ned elevated his mane, and swept angrily around the now +frightened lad, neighing fiercely, and striking out into the air with his +heels at a furious rate. Jane and Neddy ran, but the horse kept up, and by +his acts threatening every moment to kill them. But, angry as the old +fellow was, he did not really intend to harm the children, who at length +reached the fence toward which they were flying. Jane got safely over, but +just as Neddy was creeping through the bars, the horse caught hold of his +loose coat, with his teeth, and pulled him back into the field, where he +turned him over and over on the grass with his nose for half a dozen times, +but without harming him in the least, and then let him go, and went +trotting back to the cool, shady place under the old walnut tree, from +which the switch of the thoughtless boy had aroused him. + +Neddy, you may be sure, was dreadfully frightened, and went crying home. On +the next day, when they came to the field in which Ned lived at his ease +and enjoyed himself, the old horse was grazing in a far-off corner, and the +children thought they might safely venture to cross over. But they had only +gained half the distance, when Ned espied them, and, with a loud neigh, +gave chase at full gallop. The children ran, in great alarm, for the fence, +and got through, safely, before the horse came up. + +After this, whenever they ventured to cross the field, Ned would interfere. +Once he got Neddy's hat in his mouth, and ran off with it. But he didn't +harm it any, and after keeping the children waiting at the fence for about +half an hour, came and threw it over; after which he kicked up both his +heels in a defiant manner, and giving a "horse laugh," scampered away as if +a locomotive were after him. + +At last Neddy's father complained to Farmer Jones of the way in which his +old horse was annoying the children, who had to pass through the field, as +they went to school, or else be compelled to go a long distance out of +their way. The farmer inquired the cause of Ned's strange conduct, and +learned that the little boy cut him across the shoulders with a willow +switch. + +"Ho! ho!" said he, "that's the trouble, is it? Ned won't bear a stroke from +any one. But I will make up the matter between him and the children. So let +them stop here on their way from school this evening." + +The children stopped accordingly. Ned was standing in the barn-yard, the +very picture of demure innocence. But when he saw little Neddy and his +sister, he pricked up his ears, shook his head, and neighed. + +"Come, come, old boy!" said the farmer, "we've had enough of that. You must +learn to forgive and forget. The little fellow was only playing with you." + +Ned appeared to understand his master, for he looked a little ashamed of +himself, and let his pointed ears fall back again to their old places. + +"Now, my little fellows," said Farmer Jones, "take up a handful of that +sweet new hay, and call him to the bars." + +"I'm afraid," returned Neddy. "He'll bite me." + +"Not he. Why the old horse wouldn't harm a hair of your head. He was only +trying to frighten you as a punishment for the stroke you gave him. Come. +Now's your time to make friends." + +Neddy, thus encouraged, gathered a handful of the sweet new hay that was +scattered around, and going up to the fence, held it out and called to the +horse-- + +"Here! Ned, Ned, Ned!" + +The horse shook his head, and stood still. + +"Come along, you old vagabond!" said Farmer Jones, in a voice of reproof. +"Don't you see the lad's sorry for the cut he gave you? Now walk up to the +bars, and forgive the little fellow, as a sensible horse ought to do." + +Ned no longer hesitated, but went up to the bars, where Neddy, half +trembling, awaited him, and took the sweet morsel of hay from the child's +hand. Jane, encouraged by this evidence of docility, put her hand on the +animal's neck, and stroked his long head gently with her hand, while Neddy +gathered handful after handful of hay, and stood close by the mouth of the +old horse, as he ate it with the air of one who enjoyed himself. + +After that, the children could cross the field again as freely as before, +and if Ned noticed them at all, it was in a manner so good natured as not +to cause them the slightest uneasiness. + + + + + THE FREED BUTTERFLY. + + + Yes, go, little butterfly, + Fan the warm air + With your soft silken pinions, + So brilliant and fair; + A poor, fluttering prisoner + No longer you'll be; + There! Out of the window! + You are free--you are free! + + Go, rest on the bosom + Of some favorite flower; + Go, sport in the sunlight + Your brief little hour; + For your day, at the longest, + Is scarcely a span: + Then go and enjoy it; + Be gay while you can. + + As for me, I have something + More useful to do: + I must work, I must learn-- + Though I play sometimes, too. + All your days with the blossoms, + Bright thing, _you_ may spend; + They will close with the summer, + _Mine_ never shall end. + + + + + JULIA AND HER BIRDS. + + +Little Julia Cornish, a young friend of mine, is very fond of birds. It is +no strange thing, I am aware, for children to love birds. Indeed, I do not +see how any body can help loving the dear little things, especially those +that fill the air with their music. But Julia was unusually fond of them, +and her fondness showed itself in a great many ways. She did not shut them +up in cages. But she was so kind to those that had their liberty, that many +of them became quite as tame as if they had always lived in a cage. + +I must tell you about a robin that used to be a pet of hers. You know the +robin, do you not, reader? To my mind he is one of the dearest of all our +native songsters. His notes are among the first we hear in the spring. And +he is a very social and confiding creature. How often he selects a place +for his nest on some tree near the house! and when it is built, while his +partner is busy with her domestic duties, he will sing for hours together +his song of love and tenderness. + +Julia resided in the country; and every year the robins built their nests +on the trees in her father's orchard, near the house. She fancied that the +robins came from the South to her door, year after year, and brought their +children with them. She was sure she could distinguish the voices of her +old friends, and she used to sit under the shade of the trees where they +had their nests, and talk to them kindly, and leave something good for them +to eat. + +One year there were a pair of robins who made their nest on a tree, the +boughs of which hung over the house; and Julia could sit in her window and +see all that the little family were doing. She was delighted with such a +token of confidence, and she and the robins soon became very intimate. The +old ones frequently flew down from their nest, and alighted near the door, +when Julia would give them as much food as they wanted, and let them carry +some home to their children. + +By and by, the young robins were old enough to leave their nests. That was +a great day with both parents and children, and all seemed about as merry +as they could be when the half-fledged little birds took their first +lessons in flying, though Julia laughed a good deal to see their +manoeuvres, and said their motions were awkward enough. However, they +learned to fly after a while, as well as their parents, though before they +left for the season, some cruel boy threw a stone at one of them and broke +his wing. Poor fellow! he suffered a great deal of pain, and his parents +and brothers and sisters were very sad about it. They seemed for a while +hardly to know what to do. Probably there were no surgeons among them, who +understood how to manage broken limbs. And they had a long talk +together--so Julia said--and finally hit upon this plan. Willy--that was +the name my friend gave to the lame bird--was to go into the house, and see +if something could not be done for him there. + +Accordingly, one bright morning in June, almost as soon as breakfast was +over, the little invalid, attended by the rest of the family, came to the +door, where Julia was waiting to receive them--for she fed them regularly +every day--and then, after they had eaten what they wanted, instead of +flying away, as they were accustomed to do, little Willy hopped into the +kitchen, while the rest remained near the door. Julia thought that was +queer enough, and she ran and told her mother. "I wonder if I can coax the +little fellow to stay with me until his wing gets well," she said. "I wish +I could. Oh, I should dearly love to take care of him, and I am sure we can +make him well soon." + +[Illustration: JULIA'S PET ROBIN.] + +Little Willy did not say--at least he did not say in our language--that he +should be happy to place himself awhile under his friend Julia's care. But +he seemed very content, and soon made himself quite at home. Though he had +perfect liberty to go just where he pleased, and would often venture out of +the house, yet he evidently considered himself an inmate of Mr Cornish's +family. Under the care especially of Miss Julia, he became so tame that she +could take him in her lap and stroke his feathers. Willy was a great +favorite in the family, after he had been there a day or two. No one did +any thing for his wing. They did not understand setting birds' wings, when +they were broken. Still, Willy got better in a very short time, without the +assistance of a surgeon. A great many sick people, you know, need the care +of a nurse more than that of a doctor. That was the case with Willy, it +would seem. In less than three weeks his wing was entirely well, and he was +able to take care of himself. So he warbled his adieu to the family under +whose roof he had been so kindly treated, and flew away with the other +robins who had been waiting for him. + +[Illustration: JULIA FEEDING THE BIRDS.] + +Julia is very kind, too, to the snow-birds in the winter. Many a time, when +the snow has been deep, and these hungry birds have come to her father's +door, I have seen her feeding them. One winter, I recollect, she had a +flock of them that she could call to her, when she wanted to feed them, +just as she could the chickens. The snow-bird is an interesting little +creature; and though he has not a very sweet voice for singing, he was +always a favorite with Julia, and I am not sure but I love the fellow as +well as she does. Winter to me would be a great deal more gloomy, were it +not for the Winter King, as Miss Gould calls this little bird. + +Did you know reader, that the snow-bird is a very affectionate creature? It +seems that it is so. Some years ago one of them flew into a house, where, +finding itself quite welcome, it remained over night. By accident, however, +it was killed in the morning, and one of the servants threw it into the +yard. In the course of the day, one of the family witnessed a most +affecting scene in connection with the dead body. Its mate was standing +beside it, mourning its loss. It placed its beak below the head of its +companion, raised it up, and again warbled its song of mourning. By and by +it flew away, and returned with a grain or two of wheat, which it dropped +before its dead partner. Then it fluttered its wings, and endeavored to +call the attention of the dead bird to the food. Again it flew away, again +it returned, and used the same efforts as before. At last, it took up a +kernel of the wheat, and dropped it into the beak of the dead bird. This +was repeated several times. Then the poor bereaved one sang in the same +plaintive strain as before. But the scene was too affecting for the lady +who witnessed it. She could bear the sight no longer, and turned away. I +have loved the snow-bird more than ever since this story was told me, and +so has my friend Julia. + +Now I think of it, I have in one of the storerooms of my memory, a song +about the snow-bird. It is rather simple and childish--possibly too much so +for boys and girls of your age. However, as we are somewhat musical just +now, after talking so much about birds, and are greatly in want of a song, +I will sing this about Emily and the Snow-Bird, and you may join in the +chorus, if you like. + + + + + SONG OF THE SNOW-BIRD. + + +I. + The ground was all cover'd with snow one day, + And two little sisters were busy at play, + When a snow-bird was sitting close by on a tree, + And merrily singing his chick-a-de-de, + Chick-a-de-de, Chick-a-de-de, + And merrily singing his chick-a-de-de. + +[Illustration: THE SISTERS AND THE SNOW-BIRD] + +II. + + He had not been singing that tune very long, + Ere Emily heard him, so loud was his song.-- + "O sister! look out of the window," said she; + "Here's a dear little bird, singing chick-a-de-de. + Chick-a-de-de, &c. + +III. + + "Poor fellow! he walks in the snow and the sleet, + And has neither stockings nor shoes on his feet; + I pity him so! how cold he must be! + And yet he keeps singing his chick-a-de-de. + Chick-a-de-de, &c. + +IV. + + "If I were a barefooted snow-bird, I know + I would not stay out in the cold and the snow.-- + I wonder what makes him so full of his glee; + He's all the time singing that chick-a-de-de. + Chick-a-de-de, &c. + +V. + + "O mother! do get him some stockings and shoes, + And a nice little frock, and a hat, if he choose; + I wish he'd come into the parlor, and see + How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-de." + Chick-a-de-de, &c. + +VI. + + The bird had flown down for some pieces of bread, + And heard every word little Emily said; + "How queer I would look hi that dress!" thought he; + And he laughed, as he warbled his chick-a-de-de. + Chick-a-de-de, &c. + +VII. + + "I'm grateful," he said, "for the wish you express, + But I've no occasion for such a fine dress; + I had rather remain with my limbs all free, + Than to hobble about, singing chick-a-de-de. + Chick-a-de-de, &c. + +VIII. + + "There is ONE, my dear child, tho' I cannot tell who, + Has clothed me already, and warm enough too-- + Good morning! O, who are so happy as we?"-- + And away he went, singing his chick-a-de-de. + Chick-a-de-de, &c. + + + + + EDGAR AND WILLIAM; + OR HOW TO AVOID A QUARREL. + + +"Here! lend me your knife, Bill; I've left mine in the house," said Edgar +Harris to his younger brother. He spoke in a rude voice, and his manner was +imperative. + +"No, I won't! Go and get your own knife," replied William, in a tone quite +as ungracious as that in which the request, or rather command, had been +made. + +"I don't wish to go into the house. Give me your knife, I say. I only want +it for a minute." + +"I never lend my knife, nor give it, either," returned William. "Get your +own." + +"You are the most disobliging fellow I ever saw," retorted Edgar, angrily, +rising up and going into the house to get his own knife. "Don't ever ask me +for a favor, for I'll never grant it." + +This very unbrotherly conversation took place just beneath the window near +which Mr Harris, the father of the lads, was seated. He overheard it all, +and was grieved, as may be supposed, that his sons should treat each other +so unkindly. But he said nothing to them then, nor did he let them know +that he heard the language that had passed between them. + +In a little while Edgar returned, and as he sat down in the place where he +had been seated before, he said, + +"No thanks to you for your old knife! Keep it to yourself, in welcome. I +wouldn't use it now, if you were to give it to me." + +"I'm glad you are so independent," retorted William. "I hope you will +always be so." + +And the boys fretted each other for some time. + +[Illustration: THE TWO BROTHERS AT PLAY.] + +On the next day, Edgar was building a house with sticks, and William was +rolling a hoop. By accident the hoop was turned from its right course, and +broke down a part of Edgar's house. William was just going to say how sorry +he was for the accident, and to offer to repair the damage that was done, +when his brother, with his face red with passion, cried out-- + +"Just see what you have done! If you don't clear out with your hoop, I'll +call father. You did it on purpose." + +"Do go and call him! I'll go with you," said William, in a sneering, +tantalizing tone. "Come, come along now." + +For a little while the boys stood and growled at each other like two +ill-natured dogs, and then Edgar commenced repairing his house, and William +went to rolling his hoop again. The latter was strongly tempted to repeat, +in earnest, what he had done at first by accident, by way of retaliation +upon his brother for his spiteful manner toward him; but, being naturally +of a good disposition, and forgiving in his temper, he soon forgot his bad +feelings, and enjoyed his play as much as he had done before. + +This little circumstance Mr Harris had also observed. + +A day or two afterward, Edgar came to his father with a complaint against +his brother. + +"I never saw such a boy," he said. "He won't do the least thing to oblige +me. If I ask him to lend me his knife, or ball, or any thing he has, he +snaps me up short with a refusal." + +"Perhaps you don't ask him right," suggested the father. "Perhaps you don't +speak kindly to him. I hardly think that William is ill-disposed and +disobliging naturally. There must be some fault on your part, I am sure." + +"I don't know how I can be in fault, father," said Edgar. + +"William refused to let you have his knife, the other day, although he was +not using it himself, did he not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Do you remember how you asked him for it?" + +"No, sir, not now, particularly." + +"Well, as I happened to overhear you, I can repeat your words, though I +hardly think I can get your very tone and manner. Your words were, 'Here, +lend me your knife, Bill!' and your voice and manner were exceedingly +offensive. I did not at all wonder that William refused your request. If +you had spoken to him in a kind manner, I am sure he would have handed you +his knife, instantly. But no one likes to be ordered, in a domineering way, +to do any thing at all. I know you would resent it in William, as quickly +as he resents it in you. Correct your own fault, my son, and in a little +while you will have no complaint to make of William." + +Edgar felt rebuked. What his father said he saw to be true. + +"Whenever you want William to do any thing for you," continued the father, +"use kind words instead of harsh ones, and you will find him as obliging as +you could wish. I have observed you both a good deal, and I notice that you +rarely ever speak to William in a proper manner, but are rude and +overbearing. Correct this evil in yourself, and all will be right with him. +Kind words are far more powerful than harsh words, and their effect a +hundred-fold greater." + +On the next day, as Edgar was at work in the garden, and William standing +at the gate, looking on, Edgar wanted a rake that was in the summer-house. +He was just going to say, "Go and get me that rake, Bill!" but he checked +himself, and made his request in a different form, and in a better tone +than those words would have been uttered in. + +"Won't you get me the small rake that lies in the summer-house, William?" +he said. The words and tone involved a request, not a command, and William +instantly replied-- + +"Certainly;" and bounded away to get the rake for his brother. + +"Thank you," said Edgar, as he received the rake. + +"Don't you want the watering-pot?" asked William. + +"Yes, I do; and you may bring it full of water, if you please," was the +reply. + +Off William went for the watering-pot, and soon returned with it full of +water. As he stood near one of Edgar's flower-beds, he forgot himself, and +stepped back with his foot upon a bed of pansies. + +"There! just look at you!" exclaimed Edgar, thrown off his guard. + +William, who had felt drawn toward his brother on account of his kind +manner, was hurt at this sudden change in his words and tone. He was +tempted to retort harshly, and even to set his foot more roughly upon the +pansies. But he checked himself, and, turning away, walked slowly from the +garden. + +Edgar, who had repented of his rude words and unkind manner the moment he +had time to think, was very sorry that he had been thrown off his guard, +and resolved to be more careful in the future. And he was more careful. The +next time he spoke to his brother, it was in a kind and gentle manner, and +he saw its effect. Since then, he has been watchful over himself, and now +he finds that William is one of the most obliging boys any where to be +found. + +"So much for kind words, my son," said his father, on noticing the great +change that had taken place. "Never forget, throughout your whole life, +that kind words are far more potent than harsh ones. I have found them so, +and you have already proved the truth of what I say." + +And so will every one who tries them. Make the experiment, young friends, +and you will find it to succeed in every case. + + + + + PASSING FOR MORE THAN ONE IS WORTH. + + +The other day I had occasion to pay a man half a dollar, and gave him a +dollar bank note, for which he gave me in exchange two silver pieces that I +supposed to be worth twenty-five cents each. One of the pieces, however, I +found afterward would only go for sixteen or seventeen cents. It was not a +quarter of a dollar, though it looked very much like one. It had passed for +some eight or nine cents more than it was worth. Well, that was an affair +of very little consequence, you say. True enough, but I am going to take +hold of something else with this handle, that may be of more consequence. + +There are a great many folks in the world who, like this pistareen, pass +themselves off, or try to pass themselves off, for more than their real +value. It is bad business, though; and they always feel _cheap_ when +they get found out, as they are sure to be in the end. + +Did you ever see a dandy under a full press of canvas, as the sailors say, +showing himself off on one of the principal streets of a city--on Broadway, +for instance, in New York? He was trying to pass himself off for more than +his worth. And no doubt he succeeded, too, in some instances. By the way, +do you know what definition Webster gives of a dandy in his large +dictionary? It is worth remembering. Suppose we turn to it. "A dandy," says +he, "is one who dresses himself like a doll, and carries his character on +his back." It is a most capital definition; but the silly fellow will pass +for something else where he is not known. He will make a great swell, and +some people will believe he is a gentleman. Indeed, it would not be strange +if he should pass himself off, one of these days, upon some young lady who +is quite ignorant of this kind of currency, as an Italian count, or, +perhaps, the marquis of this or the duke of that. There is no telling. But +if she takes him for a cent more than Webster rates him at, she gets +cheated, depend upon it. He is not worth the clothes on his back. He has to +cross the street sometimes, to get rid of being dunned by his tailor; and +he has been two or three hours trying to find a barber who will trust him. +He's nothing but a pistareen, and hardly that. + +Some people pass themselves off for being very learned, when they are as +ignorant as a horse-block. But, oh! such mistakes as they make sometimes; +it is enough to set one into a fit of laughter, only to think of some of +them. I know a miss, who tries to pass herself off for a great reader, when +the truth is, she has only dipped up a spoon-full, here and there, from a +score or two of authors, and has not the slightest idea about the merits of +any of them. Some one came up with her nicely the other night, at a party. +He had suspicions, I suppose, that she was trying to pass for too much; at +all events, he asked her a great many roundabout questions, which she was +obliged to answer, and in doing so she let out the secret. Every body saw +what sort of a coin she was, at once. + +What fools some folks make of themselves, by attempting to pass for more +than they are worth, in the matter of dollars and cents. It is said, that +in the city of New York there are a good many poor fellows that can +scarcely get enough money to appear in a respectable suit of clothes, who +will buy a dinner in some cheap eating-house for sixpence, and then pick +their teeth on the door-steps of the Astor House, to make people think they +have dined there. And that is not any worse than some would-be genteel +people manage when the warm season comes on, every year. They close their +front window blinds, and steal into and out of their houses like thieves, +or dogs that have just had a flogging, so that their neighbors will think +they have gone to Saratoga, or Rockaway, or some other fashionable summer +retreat. They take a good deal of pains to pass for so much more than they +are worth--do they not, little friend? They only go for pistareens, though, +where they are known. + +One sometimes comes across a public speaker--a lawyer--possibly a +preacher--who displays his eloquence by using all sorts of long and +out-of-the-way words. A man may be listening ever so quietly and +innocently, and the first thing he knows, down comes a word about his ears +half as long as his arm almost, and half as heavy as a mallet. That is what +the orator calls a _knock-down_ argument; and when he wishes to be +particularly convincing and eloquent, he throws at you such brick-bats and +bars of iron as incomprehensibility--epexegetically--anthropopathically--so +fast that you have scarcely a chance to dodge one before another comes +whizzing along. Of course, you are confounded with the man's assault and +battery, and if you are a thinking person, perhaps fall to musing how such +monstrous words can come out of a man's throat whole, without choking him, +or themselves splitting to pieces. When I hear a public speaker going on in +that way, I generally think that the poor fellow is making up in big words +what he lacks in brains, and if I could whisper a small word or two in his +ear, I should be apt to say, "That will never do, sir. You can't pass +yourself off for a great scholar with this clap-trap. You are nothing but a +pistareen, and rather smooth at that. You are, indeed. Those big words that +we have to bend up and twist around to get into our coat-pockets, will not +go for sense. So pray be quiet, and not attempt to pass for any more than +you are honestly worth, which is little enough, to be sure." + +I have known boys and girls at school attempt to pass for more than their +real value. Whenever I hear a boy asking somebody to write a composition +for him, or to help him write one, which he intends to palm off as his own, +or see him jog the boy that sits next him in the school-room, to get some +help in reciting a bad lesson, I think of the pistareen, and want very much +to caution the little fellow not to pass for more than he is worth. And it +makes very little difference that I know of, whether it is a boy or a girl. +It seems just as bad in one case as it does in the other. + +It happens once in a while that a young lady puts on a great many charms +that are not natural to her, and uses every kind of deception, just for the +sake of being admired, or, perhaps, to get a good husband. It is bad +business, though. Sensible men are not often caught with such a trap; and +if they are, when they find out how the matter stands--and they will find +it out sooner or later--they despise the trick as one of the meanest that +was ever invented. I have a notion, too, that this kind of deception is +pretty common among young gentlemen, as well as young ladies. But it is a +miserable business, whoever may work at it. It never turns out well in the +end, if it does after a fashion at first. It is a great deal better to be +natural, and to act like one's self. This passing for more than one is +worth, to buy a husband or a wife, as the case may be, don't pay, as the +merchant says. + +Some people work like a horse in a bark-mill, to make every body believe +they are most excellent Christians, very nearly as pious as the angel +Gabriel, when the truth is, their religion is all sham, and they will lie +and cheat as bad as any body, if they think they will not be found out. +Whenever I see one of this class, trying with all his might to pass for a +saint, with his face as long as a yard-stick, or, perhaps, all lighted up +with kindly smiles, I can't help thinking of the pistareen. It will come +into my mind in spite of all I can do. Why, all the time the man is putting +on these airs, he is plotting some scheme for selfish gain, or some +mischief, just as likely as not. "He does not rise toward heaven like the +lark, to make music, but like the hawk, to dart down upon his prey. If he +goes up the Mount of Olives to kneel in prayer, he is about to build an +oil-mill up there. If he weeps by the brook Kedron, he is making ready to +fish for eels, or else to drown somebody in the stream." Poor man! he has a +hard time of it, trying to keep up appearances. But it will be harder +still, by and by, if he does not look out. He cannot carry his mask with +him into the other world. There no one will pass for any more than he is +worth. + + + + + LAMENT OF THE INVALID. + + + The earth is arrayed in the robes of spring, + And by the soft zephyr the green leaves are stirred; + With the wood-bird's note the pine forests ring, + And the voice of the robin's glad music is heard. + + I see my companions abroad on the plain, + But the beauties of spring, they are not for me. + Oh! when shall I leave my dull prison again? + I am pining to roam 'mid the wild flowers free. + + O green is the turf in the wildwood now, + And my spirit flies from the dwellings of men, + Where the wind blows soft through the cedar's bough, + And the voice of the streamlet is heard from the glen. + + This dim-lighted chamber I long to resign + For my cherish'd retreat, 'neath the wide-spreading tree. + Through the long, long hours of day I pine + For the breath of the flowers and the hum of the bee. + + No, not for me are the beauties of spring, + Nor the zephyr that sighs in the cedar's bough; + The birds of the forest all sweetly may sing, + But not for my ear is their music now. + + Yet, merciful Father! I will not complain; + My hopes are all centred on heaven and Thee; + I know that thy grace will my spirit sustain-- + I ask not for more--'tis sufficient for me. + + + + + THE USE OF FLOWERS[1]. + + +[Footnote 1: See the frontispiece.] + + +Just one moment longer, cousin Mary, I want to put this flower in your +hair. Now doesn't it look sweet, sister Aggy?" + +"Oh, yes! very sweet. And here is the dearest little bud I ever saw. I took +it from the sweet-briar bush in the lane. Put that, too, in cousin Mary's +hair." + +Little Florence, seeing what was going on, was soon, also, at work upon +Mary's hair, that, in a little while, was covered with buds and blossoms. + +"Now she is our May Queen," said the children, as they hung fondly around +their cousin, who had come out into the country to enjoy a few weeks of +rural quiet, in the season of fruits and flowers. "And our May Queen must +sing us a song," said Agnes, who was sitting at the feet of her cousin. +"Sing us something about flowers." + +"Oh, yes!" spoke up Grace, "sing us that beautiful piece by Mrs Howitt, +about the use of flowers. You sang it for us, you remember, the last time +you were here." + +Cousin Mary sang as desired. After she had concluded, she said-- + +"Flowers, according to these beautiful verses, are only useful as objects +to delight our senses. They are only beautiful forms in nature--their +highest use, their beauty and fragrance." + +"I think that is what Mrs Howitt means," replied Grace. "So I have always +understood her. And I cannot see any other use that flowers have. Do you +know of any other use, cousin?" + +"Oh, yes. Flowers have a more important use than merely giving delight to +the senses. Without them, plants could not produce fruit and seed. You +notice that the flower always comes before the fruit?" + +"Oh, yes. But why is a flower needed? Why does not the fruit push itself +directly out from the stem of a plant?" asked Agnes. + +"Flowers are the most exquisitely delicate in their texture of all forms in +the vegetable kingdom. Look at the petals of this one. Could any thing be +softer or finer? The leaf, the bark, and the wood of the plant are all +coarse, in comparison to the flower. Now, as nothing is made in vain, there +must be some reason for this. The leaves and bark, as well as wood, of +plants, all have vessels through which sap flows, and this sap nourishes, +sustains, and builds up the plant, as our blood does our bodies. But the +whole effort of the plant is to reproduce itself; and to this end it forms +seed, which, when cast into the ground, takes root, springs up, and makes a +new plant. To form this seed, requires the purest juices of the plant, and +these are obtained by means of the flowers, through the exquisitely fine +vessels of which these juices are filtered, or strained, and thus separated +from all that is gross and impure." + +"I never thought of that before," said Agnes. "Flowers, then, are useful, +as well as beautiful." + +"Nothing is made for mere beauty. All things in nature regard use as an +end. To flowers are assigned a high and important use, and exquisite beauty +of form and color is at the same time given to them; and with these our +senses are delighted. They are, in more respects than one, good gifts from +our heavenly Father." + +"Oh! how I do love the flowers," said Agnes; "and now, when I look upon +them, and think of their use as well as their beauty, I will love them +still more. Are they so very beautiful because their use is such an +important one, cousin Mary?" + +"Yes, dear; I believe this is so. In the seeds of plants there is an image +of the infinity of our great Creator; for in seeds resides a power, or an +effort, to reproduce the plants, that lie concealed as gems within them, to +infinity. We might naturally enough suppose that flowers, whose use it is +to refine and prepare the juices of plants, so as to free them from all +grosser matters, and make them fit for the important office of developing +and maturing seeds, would be exceedingly delicate in their structure, and, +as a natural consequence, beautiful to look upon. And we will believe, +therefore, that their peculiar beauty depends upon their peculiar use." + + + + + SLIDING DOWN HILL. + + +Say what you will--talk about cold hands, feet, and noses, as much as you +please--there are about as fine sports in winter as we get in the whole +year. There is something very exciting in snow. A snow storm acts like +electricity upon the spirits of the boys--and girls too, for that matter. +How busy we used to be, on Saturday afternoon, when there was no school, as +soon as the first flakes of snow had whitened the ground, making new sleds, +and mending up old ones. + +Our southern readers know very little about these sports of winter. I have +a good mind to enlighten them a little. Imagine, my young friends--you who +live so near the tropics that snow and ice are objects of +curiosity--imagine, if you can, the earth covered to the depth of two feet +or more with snow. In some places, the drifts are as high as your head, and +higher too. When it first falls, the particles are loosely thrown together; +but a warm sun or a little shower of rain melts them down a little, and +then comes a night cold enough to freeze up your mouth, if you don't look +out, and the surface of the snow becomes hard and slippery. Then such a +time as the boys have sliding down hill--why, it is worth coming up as far +north as New York, and running the risk of having your fingers frozen a +little, to see them at it, and take a few trips down the hill. + +[Illustration: SLIDING DOWN HILL.] + +A sled constructed for this purpose is a very simple thing. I will sketch +one for you. Here it is, and a boy carrying it up the hill. + +When the boy gets to the top of the hill, he sometimes lies and sometimes +sits up on his sled, and lets it go. It finds its way down, without any of +the boy's help, you may depend upon it. He has to guide it a little with +his feet, though. If he did not, he might come in contact with another +boy's sled, or a rock, perhaps; and that would be rather a serious joke, +when the sled was going like the cars on a railroad. + +Sometimes there are a dozen boys, all or nearly all with a sled of their +own, sliding down the same hill at once. In fact, we used to have the whole +school at it, now and then, when I was a little boy. It was a merry time +then, you may be sure. Occasionally we would have a large sled, which it +took three or four boys to draw up the hill. Then half a dozen of us would +get on, and slide down in advance of the wind, it seemed to me--for it was +so swift that I scarcely could breathe--until we came up all standing in a +huge snow bank. + +Sometimes, when we were half way down, and our locomotive was under a full +pressure of steam, a boy would fall off, and, not being able to check the +force he received from the sled, would go down to the bottom of the hill in +a manner calculated to raise a very stormy concert of laughter from the +rest of the boys. And the poor John Gilpin enjoyed the fun, too, or tried +to enjoy it, as much as any of them, though he did not laugh quite so +heartily; and he could well be pardoned for not doing that, certainly, +until he had got to the end of his ludicrous race. + +I can recollect a great many funny adventures connected with sliding down +hill. I don't know that I ever laughed more in my life at any one time, +than I did once at a feat of Jack Mason's. Jack was a courageous +fellow--one of the most daring boys in the whole school. Some thirty or +forty of us were one bright Saturday afternoon sliding down a fine hill, +with a good level valley at its foot, when Jack challenged the boys to go +down the other side, which was a great deal steeper, and which had an +immense drift of snow at the bottom. No one dared to do it. We all thought +it would be rather too serious business. Jack surveyed the ground for a few +minutes, and screwed his courage up to the highest point. "I am going +down," said he. We tried to dissuade him, but it was of no use. When Jack +had made up his mind, you might as well attempt to turn the course of the +north wind as to turn him. The words were no sooner out of his mouth, than +down he went, like an arrow. We trembled for him, and held our breath +almost, as we watched his sled; for it used to be a proverb with us, that +Jack would break his neck one of these days, and we were not without our +fears that the day had come. + +Down went Jack on his sled, and in a few moments he was plunged in the snow +bank out of sight. We all ran down to dig him out, scarcely daring to hope +we should find him alive. We worked like beavers for a considerable time, +and found nothing of the poor adventurer. At last, more than a rod from +where he entered the bank, up popped Jack, as white with snow as if he had +been into a flour barrel, tugging his sled after him, and grinning like a +right merry fellow, as he was. Take it all in all, it was one of the most +laughable sights I ever saw; and now as I write, and a sort of a +daguerreotype likeness of Jack, just emerging, like a ghost, from that snow +bank, comes up to my mind, I have to stop and laugh almost as heartily as I +did at the scene itself, when it occurred. + + + + + A GARDEN OVERRUN WITH WEEDS. + + +"Father, I don't like to go to school," said Harry Williams, one +morning. "I wish you would let me always stay at home. Charles Parker's +father don't make him go to school." + +Mr Williams took his little boy by the hand, and said kindly to him, "Come, +my son, I want to show you something in the garden." + +Harry walked into the garden with his father, who led him along until they +came to a bed in which peas were growing, the vines supported by thin +branches that had been placed in the ground. Not a weed was to be seen +about their roots, nor even disfiguring the walk around the bed in which +they had been planted. + +"See how beautifully these peas are growing, my son," said Mr Williams. +"How clean and healthy the vines look. We shall have an abundant crop. Now +let me show you the vines in Mr Parker's garden. We can look at them +through a great hole in his fence." + +Mr Williams then led Harry through the garden gate and across the road, to +look at Mr Parker's pea vines through the hole in the fence. The bed in +which they were growing was near to the road; so they had no difficulty in +seeing it. After looking into the garden for a few moments, Mr Williams +said-- + +"Well, my son, what do you think of Mr Parker's pea vines?" + +"Oh, father!" replied the little boy; "I never saw such poor looking peas +in my life! There are no sticks for them to run upon, and the weeds are +nearly as high as the peas themselves. There won't be half a crop!" + +"Why are they so much worse than ours, Harry?" + +"Because they have been left to grow as they pleased. I suppose Mr Parker +just planted them, and never took any care of them afterward. He has +neither taken out the weeds, nor helped them to grow right." + +"Yes, that is just the truth, my son. A garden will soon be overrun with +weeds and briars, if it is not cultivated with the greatest care. And just +so it is with the human garden. This precious garden must be trained and +watered, and kept free from weeds, or it will run to waste. Children's +minds are like garden beds; and they must be as carefully tended, and even +more carefully, than the choicest plants. If you, my son, were never to go +to school, nor have good seeds of knowledge planted in your mind, it would, +when you become a man, resemble the weed-covered, neglected bed we have +just been looking at, instead of the beautiful one in my garden. Would you +think me right to neglect my garden as Mr Parker neglects his?" + +"Oh, no, father; your garden is a good garden, but Mr Parker's is all +overrun with weeds and briars. It won't yield half as much as yours will." + +"Or, my son, do you think I would be right if I neglected my son as Mr +Parker neglects his son, allowing him to run wild, and his mind, +uncultivated, to become overgrown with weeds?" + +Little Harry made no reply; but he understood pretty clearly what his +father meant. + +"I send you to school," Mr Williams continued, "in order that the garden +of your mind may have good seeds sown in it, and that these seeds may +spring up and grow, and produce plentifully. Now which would you prefer, to +stay at home from school, and so let the garden of your mind be overrun +with weeds, or go to school, and have this garden cultivated?" + +"I would rather go to school," said Harry. "But, father, is Charles +Parker's mind overrun with weeds?" + +"I am afraid that it is. If not, it certainly will be, if his father does +not send him to school. For a little boy not to be sent to school, is a +great misfortune, and I hope you will think the privilege of going to +school a very great one indeed." + +Harry Williams listened to all his father said, and, what was better, +thought about it, too. He never again asked to stay home from school. + + + + + JULIAN PARMELEE; + OR DISAPPOINTMENT SOMETIMES A BLESSING. + + +In a pleasant New England village, several years ago, there was a good deal +of excitement produced among the little folks, by the appearance, on the +sign-post, and in the tavern and store, of some large placards, with very +curious and funny pictures upon them. These placards made known the +important fact, that, for the sum of ninepence, (a shilling, according to +the currency of New York,) any boy and girl in the vicinity might have the +pleasure of seeing some of the most astonishing feats of trained animals +ever heard of. On a certain day there was to be a sort of juggler, who +would play on some kind of instruments. The music made by this man would +have the power of charming the animals--so the advertisement read--and the +instant they heard it, they would commence playing their antics. There was +a great black bear who would stand on his head; a dog who knew almost as +much as his master; a cock that could walk on a pair of high stilts. Then +there were learned monkeys, learned pigs, and I know not what besides. + +[Illustration: THE "SHOW."] + +The pictures of these different animals, performing their several exploits, +caused a great deal of wonder and admiration among the village boys and +girls. In cities, where such exhibitions occur very frequently, such things +would not be much thought of. But it is very different in the country, +where public exhibitions of every sort are "like angels' visits, few and +far between." For nearly a week before the day appointed for this juggling +exhibition, there was nothing talked of in this quiet village so much as +the "show." Ninepences that had been a twelvemonth in accumulating, were +now in great demand; and more than one boy sighed as he reflected that he +had spent his pennies in candies and other nice things, so that he had none +left for the "show," and secretly resolved that he would be wiser next +time, and not allow his money to slip through his fingers so easily. + +Among those who had the permission of their parents to visit the +exhibition, and who were anxiously longing for the day to come, were Julian +Parmelee and his sister. Julian, especially--a boy of about nine years of +age--was almost crazy with delight, when his mother told him he might go. +He jumped, danced, clapped his hands, shouted, and went through so many +strange manoeuvres, that his elder brother George, who was rather more +sober on the occasion, said he guessed he should not go to the court-house +and pay ninepence to see the show, for he was in a fair way to get the +exhibition at home, for nothing. + +"Oh, mother!" said Julian, "do you really believe the bear will stand on +his head? What a funny sight it must be! I wonder if they keep the bear +chained. I shall take care I do not get within reach of his paws, I guess. +Charley Staples said he didn't believe it was half so big as the one he saw +when he was up in Vermont. How big is it, mother? as big as our Carlo? Oh, +I wish it was time to go now! I should think monkeys were very funny +creatures. They say there is one in the show that rides a horse, just like +a man. Ha! ha! ha!" And he laughed so loudly that he waked up the baby in +the cradle. + +I do not wonder at all that little Julian was so much delighted with the +idea of going to this exhibition. It was something entirely new to him; and +to children, especially, such singular feats as these animals were to +perform, are always entertaining. It may, however, admit of a question, +whether it is right, just for our amusement, to inflict so much pain upon +these poor creatures as is necessary to teach them their several parts. It +seems rather cruel. You know what the frogs once said to the boys, +according to the fable, in the matter of stoning: "Young gentlemen, you do +not consider, that while this is sport to you, it is death to us." These +poor bears, and monkeys, and other animals, while they are going through +their education, might use some such language to their teachers, perhaps, +if they had the same faculty that the fable ascribes to the frogs. But, +however that may be, it was very natural that Julian should be half frantic +at the thought of seeing the show, and quite as natural that Julian's +father and mother should consent to let him go. + +Well, some two days before the exhibition was to take place, Julian was +taken sick. There is a class of diseases--such as the measles and the +whooping-cough--which, you know, almost every boy and girl must have some +time or another; and it is not always left with the children to decide +precisely when they shall take their turn. One of these diseases had made +Julian a call, and insisted on staying with him a week or two. It was the +whooping-cough. Julian wanted to be excused for a few days; but the old +fellow told him, in his wheezing way, that he could not think of letting +him off so long. Julian was disappointed, and cried a good deal. It did +seem rather hard that he must be caged up in his chamber just at this time. + He was not so sick as to make it necessary to stay at home; but his mother +thought it would be wrong to allow him to go where there were to be so many +other children, because they would be in danger of taking the disease from +him. So it was decided that he could not see the "show;" and he fretted +and stormed, and made himself very unhappy. He was usually a good-natured +boy, but it must be confessed, that he was now quite out of humor. + +"I don't see what I'm sick for, just when I wanted to go to the 'show.' I +declare, it is too bad. And the whooping-cough, too! If it was any thing +else, I could go. What under the sun--" + +"There, Julian, that will do, I think," said his mother, kindly. + +Julian checked himself, but he could hardly help muttering something about +its being "very provoking." + +Mrs Parmelee was silent for a while, until the peevishness of her child had +a little time to subside, and then she said-- + +"My dear child, I am sorry that you should feel so; for you not only make +yourself unhappy, but you are finding fault with God, and you know that is +very wrong. God had something to do with your sickness. He could very +easily have prevented it, if he had chosen to do so. But he did not choose +to prevent it, and--" + +"Well, why didn't he prevent it, mother?" + +"Hear me through, my child. If he allowed you to be sick, when he could +have kept you well, then it is certain that, on the whole, he would rather +you would be sick. You see this, don't you, Julian?" + +"Yes, ma'am. God made me sick, didn't he?" + +"There's no doubt that all diseases are under his control." + +"Then, mama, I am sure that God--" + +"Not quite so fast. I want you to see what you was doing, when you was +so peevish a little while ago. You was very much out of humor. Indeed, I +think you showed some anger." + +"Oh, no, mother, I was not angry." + +"Perhaps not, my child; but what would you call that spirit, if it was +not anger?" + +"I was--I was--provoked--I mean vexed, mama." + +"Well, who vexed you?" + +"Nobody; it was the whooping-cough." + +"I'm very sorry that my child should get into such a passion--or +vexation, whichever it may be--with the whooping-cough; for you say that +you suppose the disease was under the control of God, so that it must +have been rather an innocent sort of thing, after all. If you should +fall into the mill-pond, and a man standing on the shore should let you +struggle a while before he helped you out, you would get vexed, wouldn't +you?" + +"I guess I should." + +"You would certainly have as much reason for vexation as you have had +this morning. But would you be likely to get vexed with the water?" + +"Why, no, mama. I should be provoked with the man, because he didn't +help me out." + +"I thought so. Well, then, don't you think you found fault with God, in +this matter of the whooping-cough?" + +"It may be so." + +"It must be so." + +Little Julian was a thoughtful child. He saw that this spirit of +peevishness was very wrong, and that he had murmured against God. He +told his mother that he hoped he should not do so any more. He was +silent for some minutes, and then said-- + +"There is one thing I would like to know about, mother; but it may be I +ought not to ask." + +"What is it, Julian?" asked his mother. + +"If God is kind, and if he loves us, why does he let us get sick? I am +sure you would keep me well all the time, if you could, because you love +me, and because you are good and kind." + +"I am glad you asked that question, Julian. There are a great many +things which we cannot understand about the government of God. But I +think I can explain this to you. God, it is true, often disappoints us, +and gives us pain, and makes us weep. This would all seem very strange, +and almost unkind, if we did not know that God has some other end in +view besides making us happy in this life. He is training us for another +world; and if you live to be a man, you will see that such +disappointments as this of yours, for a part of God's plan of fitting +his children for heaven." + +"But I think we should be just as good, if he did not make us feel bad +and cry." + +"That is your mistake. Do you think you would be just as good a child, +if your parents always humored you, and gave you every plaything you +asked for? Are you quite sure that you would now mind your father and +mother as well, if you had always been allowed to have your own way?" + +"But you don't make me sick, mother." + +"True. We correct you in another way. But we sometimes give you pain, +and make you cry. Did you ever think, when your father reproved you and +punished you, that it was because he did not love you?" + +"Oh, no, mother." + +"You can see how your father can be kind and affectionate, and still +give you pain?" + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"Then cannot you see how God may disappoint _his_ children, and +even make them unhappy for a time, and love them tenderly, too?" + +"Oh, mother, I see it all now! I wonder I never thought of this before! +Well, the whooping-cough is not so bad, after all. I've learned +something by it, at any rate." + +"Yes, and it may be worth a great deal more to you than the 'show' would +have been." + + + + + THE OLD MAN AT THE COTTAGE DOOR. + + + Come, faint old man! and sit awhile + Beside our cottage door; + A cup of water from the spring, + A loaf to bless the poor, + We give with cheerful hearts, for God + Hath given us of his store. + + Too feeble, thou, for daily toil, + Too weak to earn thy bread-- + For th' weight of many, many years, + Lies heavy on thy head-- + A wanderer, want, thy weary feet, + Hath to our cottage led. + + Come rest awhile. 'Twill not be long, + Ere thy faint head shall know + A deeper, calmer, better rest, + Than cometh here below; + When He, who loveth every one, + Shall call thee hence to go. + + God bless thee in thy wanderings! + Wherever they may be, + And make the ears of every one + Attentive to thy plea; + A double blessing will be theirs, + Who kindly turn to thee. + + + + + STORY OF A STOLEN PEN. + WRITTEN BY ITSELF. + + +My friend, Theodore Thinker, who is an odd sort of a genius, and +frequently takes up things after a singular fashion, has put into my +hands a paper with this caption: "Story of a Stolen Pen, written by +itself." It seems, from a somewhat lengthy introduction--too lengthy to +be here quoted--that the pen once belonged to some editor or another; +and as Theodore has something to do with editorial matters himself, I +should not wonder if he is the one. Some curious readers may be disposed +to inquire how the pen was made to talk so fluently, and perhaps some +others would like to know how it was found in the first place. I can't +answer these reasonable inquiries. The manuscript is entirely silent on +both points. I have my conjectures in relation to the thing--pretty +strong conjectures, too. I guess the whole story is a fable, to tell the +truth. But never mind. There is a great deal of sense in fables +sometimes; and who knows but there may be some in this? At all events, +we must have + + THE STORY. + + +[Illustration: THE THIEF STEALING THE PEN.] + + +I wish you could have seen the thief in the act of stealing me. What a +sorry face he had on! I send you a rough sketch of him--for I have a +little talent at drawing--taken from memory. I was lying on the desk, +close by a manuscript which I had commenced. He snatched me as soon as +the editor's back was turned, and ran out of the office. I wonder the +people did not notice that he was a rogue as he passed along the street. +Why, he stared at every body he met, as if he was afraid they were going +to give him an invitation to walk to the police office. The first thing +he did was to call at several pawnbroker's offices, where he tried to +sell me. No one would give him what he asked. He wanted ten or twelve +dollars, I believe. Well, he gave up that project before night, and I +heard him mutter to himself, "If I only had the money for it!" After +supper he took me into his room, and when he had locked the door fast, +he began to examine me carefully. "It _is_ a beautiful pen," said +he, and then he tried to see how I would write. I should think he was a +pretty good penman. He made a great many flourishes with me, and wrote +his name several times. His name was John Smith, by the way, or at any +rate, that was the signature he made. "What a fine pen this is," said +he; "I never wrote with a better pen in my life. But it won't do for me +to keep it. I shall be found out, if I do. Oh, dear! I wish I had got it +without stealing it. I wonder where I can sell the troublesome thing." + +Just then somebody knocked at the door. It was a long time before he let +the person in. He had to think what he would do with me first, and it +took him a good while to put away the paper he had been scribbling on. +"Why, John!" said the man, when he came in, "what makes you look so +frightened? I should think you took me for a tiger, or some such +animal." "I've got the toothache," said the thief, "and I have sent for +the doctor to pull it out. I thought he had come when you knocked. Dear +me! how I dread it! Did you ever have a tooth drawn?" + +So you see the fellow told a lie. Those who break one of God's +commandments, are pretty likely to break more before they get through. +My new owner seemed to find it difficult to get to sleep that night, and +after he did get to sleep, he muttered a good deal in his dreams. Once I +heard him say, "No; I bought it of Mr Bagley, in Broadway." I could not +help thinking that he ought to be content with telling lies when he was +awake. + +One day he left me on the table when he went out. It was unfortunate for +him. That night I overheard the chambermaid talking with him about it, +and I saw him turn very red in the face. It was evident she did not +believe his story about buying the pen of Mr Bagley, though he told it +over and over again, and made use of a terrible oath, which I dare not +repeat. Poor man! I pitied him. He was certainly very unhappy. He wanted +to sell me very much indeed; but some how or other, no one would give +the price he asked. Perhaps they remembered the saying, "The buyer is as +bad as the thief." He offered me to one man in Pearl street, who seemed +a little disposed to buy. "Wait a minute," said he; and he went into a +back room to speak to somebody. But John Smith thought it would be safer +for him not to wait. I guess he had his mind on the subject of police +officers at that time. + +He never went to church with me but once; and then, strange enough, the +minister preached from this text: "The way of transgressors is hard." +I could feel the poor man's heart throb, as the clergyman slowly read +the words. When he went home, he was in great distress--for the sermon +was a very solemn one--and he took down from a shelf a small Bible, all +covered with dust, and looked at some words which were written on the +first leaf. I don't wonder he wept, as he read them--"A mother's gift." +He remembered where the text was, and he turned to it, and read it again +and again. "Yes," said he, "it is true--too true. But what shall I do? +I have been to the theatre so much now, that I can't be happy unless I +go; and where am I to get the money? I wish I had never begun to steal. +Oh! that was a sad day for me, when I listened to wicked boys, and +robbed that old man's pear tree." I saw then how he first became a +thief; and I thought I should like to have every body know that when +boys are stealing apples, and pears, and peaches, they are serving an +apprenticeship to the business of stealing on a larger scale. I myself +have heard of many a highway robber, who began his career in the orchard +of his neighbor. + +Mr Smith did not reform. About three months ago, he stole a horse from +a stable in the upper part of the city, and immediately left for some +place in New Jersey. It was a beautiful horse, but he could not sell +him. People were suspicious. At last he was arrested, and had to go to +Sing Sing prison. I hope he will make up his mind to be an honest man +now; for he has certainly learned, by pretty dear experience, that +"honesty is the best policy." I can't think he would steal any more if +they should let him out. Still, I am not sure. The habit was very +strong. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WREATHS OF FRIENDSHIP*** + + +******* This file should be named 16073.txt or 16073.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/0/7/16073 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + |