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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:13:26 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/24476-h.zip b/24476-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..000faab --- /dev/null +++ b/24476-h.zip diff --git a/24476-h/24476-h.htm b/24476-h/24476-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7239167 --- /dev/null +++ b/24476-h/24476-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1732 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nursery, March 1873, Vol. XIII., by Various. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .story {font-size: 200%; margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, March 1873, Vol. XIII., by Various + +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: The Nursery, March 1873, Vol. XIII. + A Monthly Magazine for Youngest People + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 31, 2008 [EBook #24476] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, MARCH 1873 *** + + + + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h3>THE</h3> + +<h1>NURSERY</h1> + +<h2><i>A Monthly Magazine</i></h2> + +<h2><span class="smcap">For Youngest Readers.</span></h2> + +<div class='center'>VOLUME XIII.—No. 3<br /> + +<br /><br /> +BOSTON:<br /> +JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET.<br /> +1873.<br /> +</div> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<small>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873,</small><br /> +<br /> +<small><span class="smcap">By</span> JOHN L. SHOREY,</small><br /> +<br /> +<small>In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.</small><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap"><small>Boston:</small><br /> +<small>Rand, Avery, & Co., Stereotypers and Printers.</small></span><br /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/contents.png" width="400" height="208" alt="Contents" title="Contents" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>IN PROSE.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'><small>PAGE.</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Pigeons and their Friend</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Obedient Chickens</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>John Ray's Performing Dogs</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Ellen's Cure for Sadness</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Kitty and the Bee</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Little Mischief</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>How the Wind fills the Sails</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Ida's Mouse</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Almost Lost</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Little May</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>An Important Disclosure</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />IN VERSE.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='center'><small>PAGE.</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Rowdy-Dowdy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Sliders</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mr. Prim</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Minding Baby</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Deeds, not Words</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Molly to her Dolly</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Timothy Tippens (<i>with music</i>)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/illus04.png" width="300" height="146" alt="Decoration: Cherub and birds" title="Decoration: Cherub and birds" /> +</div><div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 276px;"> +<img src="images/illus065.png" width="276" height="400" alt="THE PIGEONS AND THEIR FRIEND." title="THE PIGEONS AND THEIR FRIEND." /> +<span class="caption">THE PIGEONS AND THEIR FRIEND.</span> +</div> + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PIGEONS AND THEIR FRIEND.</h2> + +<h3>A TRUE STORY.</h3> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 95px;"> +<img src="images/w.png" width="95" height="100" alt="W" title="W" /> +</div><div class='unindent'><br />HEN I was in Boston about a year ago, I stopped +one day at the corner of Washington Street and +Franklin Street to witness a pretty sight.</div> + +<p>Here, just as you turn into Franklin Street, +on the right, a poor peddler used to stand with +a few baskets of oranges or apples or peanuts, which he +offered for sale to the passers-by.</p> + +<p>The street-pigeons had found in him a good friend; for he +used to feed them with bits of peanuts, crumbs of bread, +and seed: and every day, at a certain hour, they would fly +down to get their food.</p> + +<p>On the day when I stopped to see them, the sun shone, +and the street was crowded; and many people stopped, like +myself, to see the pretty sight.</p> + +<p>The pigeons did not seem to be at all disturbed or frightened +by the noise of carriages or the press of people; but +would fly down, and light on the peddler's wrist, and peck +the food from the palm of his hand.</p> + +<p>He had made them so tame, that they would often light +on his shoulders or on his head; and, if he put food in his +mouth, they would try to get it even from between his +teeth.</p> + +<p>The children would flock round to see him; and even the +busy newsboy would pause, and forget the newspapers under +his arm, while he watched these interviews between the +birds and their good friend.</p> + +<p>A year afterwards I was in Boston again; but the poor +peddler and his birds were not to be seen. All Franklin +Street, and much of the eastern side of Washington Street,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +were in ruins. There had been a great fire in Boston,—the +largest that was ever known there; and more than fifty +acres, crowded with buildings, had been made desolate, so +that nothing but smoking ruins was left. This was in +November, 1872.</p> + +<p>I do not know where the poor peddler has gone; but I +hope that his little friends, the pigeons, have found him out, +and that they still fly down to bid him good-day, and take +their dinner from his open hand.</p> + +<p>The picture is an actual drawing from life, made on the +spot, and not from memory. The likeness of the peddler is +a faithful one; and I thank the artist for reproducing the +scene so well to my mind. Folks <i>do</i> say that he has hit off +<i>my</i> likeness also in the man standing behind the taller of +the two little girls.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Alfred Selwyn</span>. +</div> + + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<h2>ROWDY-DOWDY.</h2> + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Rowdy-dowdy</span> loves a noise;<br /> +Cannot play with quiet boys;<br /> +Cannot play with quiet toys:<br /> +Rowdy-dowdy loves a noise!<br /> +<br /> +In the street he takes delight,—<br /> +In the street from morn till night:<br /> +Don't I tell the story right,<br /> +Rowdy-dowdy, noisy sprite?<br /> +<br /> +Rowdy-dowdy's full of fun;<br /> +Never walks if he can run;<br /> +Never likes the setting sun:<br /> +That stops Rowdy-dowdy's fun.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 222px;"> +<img src="images/illus068.png" width="222" height="300" alt="Rowdy-Dowdy" title="Rowdy-Dowdy" /> +</div> + +<div class='poem'> +He is full of prankish ways;<br /> +Never still one moment stays;<br /> +Boys are fond of boyish plays:<br /> +These are Dowdy's rowdy days.<br /> +<br /> +Out at elbows, out at toes,<br /> +Out at knees, the urchin goes:<br /> +Still he laughs, and still he grows<br /> +Rowdier, dowdier, I suppose.<br /> +<br /> +Rowdy-dowdy, don't you see,<br /> +Full of noisy, boys-y glee,<br /> +Is as sweet as he can be,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>For the sprite belongs to me!<br /> +<br /> +He is mine to have and hold,<br /> +Worth his weight in solid gold:<br /> +Ah! I've not the heart to scold<br /> +Rowdy-dowdy, brave and bold!<br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Josephine Pollard</span>. +</div> + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus069.png" width="400" height="299" alt="The Obedient Chickens" title="The Obedient Chickens" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>THE OBEDIENT CHICKENS.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> I was a little girl, I had a nice great Shanghai hen +given to me. She soon laid a nest full of eggs; and then I +let her sit on them, till, to my great joy, she brought out a +beautiful brood of chickens.</p> + +<p>They were big fellows even at first, and had longer legs +and fewer feathers than the other little yellow roly-poly +broods that lived in our barn-yard. But, although I could +see that they were not quite so pretty as the others, I made +great pets of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were a lively, stirring family, and used to go roving +all over the farm; but never was there a better behaved, +or more thoroughly trained set of children. If a hawk, or +even a big robin, went sailing over head, how quickly they +scampered, and hid themselves at their mother's note of +warning! and how meekly they all trotted roost-ward at the +first sound of her brooding-call! I wish all little folks were +as ready to go to bed at the right time.</p> + +<p>One day when the chickens were five or six weeks' old, I +saw them all following their mother into an old shed near +the house. She led them up into one corner, and then, after +talking to them for a few minutes in the hen language, went +out and left them all huddled together.</p> + +<p>She was gone for nearly an hour; and never once did they +stir away from the place where she left them. Then she +came back, and said just as plain as your mother could say +it, only in another way, "Cluck, cluck, cluck! You've all +been good chickens while I was away; have you? Well, +now, we'll see what a good dinner we can pick up."</p> + +<p>Out they rushed, pell-mell, as glad to be let out of their +prison, and as pleased to see their mother again, as so many +boys and girls would have been.</p> + +<p>Well, day after day, this same thing happened. It came +to be a regular morning performance; and we hardly knew +what to make of it, until one day we followed old Mother +Shanghai, and discovered her secret.</p> + +<p>She had begun to lay eggs again, and was afraid some +harm would come to her young family if she left them out +in the field while she was in the barn on her nest. So she +took this way of keeping them out of danger.</p> + +<p>Of course, what she said to her brood when she left them +must have been, "My dears, my duties now call me away +from you for a little while; and you must stay right here,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +where no harm can come to you, till I come back. Good-by!" +And then off she would march as dignified and earnest +as you please.</p> + +<p>She did this for a number of weeks, until she thought her +young folks were old and wise enough to be trusted out +alone. Then she let them take care of themselves.</p> + +<p>This is a true story.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">East Dorset, Vt.</span> M. H. F. +</div> + + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus071.png" width="400" height="300" alt="John Ray's Performing Dogs" title="John Ray's Performing Dogs" /> +</div> +<h2>JOHN RAY'S PERFORMING DOGS.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was once a little boy whose name was John Ray, +and who lived near a large manufacturing town in England. +When only seven years old, he fell from a tree, and was +made a cripple for life.</p> + +<p>His father, who was a sailor, was lost at sea soon afterwards;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +and then, John's mother dying, the little boy was +left an orphan. He was nine years of age when he went to +live with Mrs. Lamson, his aunt,—a poor woman with a +large family of young children.</p> + +<p>It was a sad thought to John that he could not work so as +to help his good aunt. It was his frequent prayer that he +might do something so as not to be a burden to her; but +for a long time he could not think of any thing to do.</p> + +<p>One day a stray dog came to the house; and John gave +him a part of his dinner. The dog liked the attention so +well, that he staid near the house, and would not be driven +off. Every day John gave him what he could spare.</p> + +<p>One day, John said to him, "Doggie, what is your name? +Is it Fido? Is it Frisk? Is it Nero? Is it Nap? Is it +Tiger? Is it Toby? Is it Plato? Is it Pomp?"</p> + +<p>When John uttered the word "Pomp," the dog began to +bark; and John said, "Well, sir, then your name shall be +Pomp." Then John began to play with him, and found that +Pomp was not only acquainted with a good many tricks, but +was quick to learn new ones.</p> + +<p>Pomp would walk on his hind-legs better than any dog +that John ever saw. Pomp would let John dress him up in +an old coat and a hat; and would sit on a chair, and hold the +reins that were put in his paws, just as if he were a coachman.</p> + +<p>Pomp learned so well, and afforded such amusement to +those who saw his tricks, that the thought occurred to John, +"What if I try to earn some money by exhibiting Pomp?"</p> + +<p>So John exhibited him in a small way, to some of the +neighbors, and with so much success, that he bought another +dog and a monkey, and began to teach all three to play +tricks together.</p> + +<p>A kind lady, who had been informed of his efforts to do +something for his aunt, made some nice dresses for the dogs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +and the monkey. The pictures will show you how the animals +looked when dressed up for an exhibition.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus073.png" width="400" height="301" alt="Dogs in fancy dress" title="Dogs in fancy dress" /> +</div> + +<p>The kind lady did still more: she hired a hall in which +John could show off his dogs; and then she sold five hundred +tickets for a grand entertainment. It was so successful, +that John was called upon to repeat it many times.</p> + +<p>Oh! was he not a proud and happy little boy when he +found himself so rich that he could put a twenty-pound note +in the hands of his aunt as a token that he was grateful for +all her care of him?</p> + +<p>It was more money than the poor woman had had at any +one time in her whole life before; and she kissed her little +nephew, and called him the best boy in the world.</p> + +<p>John and his dogs grew to be so famous, that he had to go +to other cities to show them; and soon he earned money +enough to keep him till he could learn to be a watchmaker.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>As he was a diligent, faithful workman, he at last became +the owner of a nice house, and then took his aunt and some +of her children to live with him.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Uncle Charles</span>. +</div> + + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus074.png" width="400" height="302" alt="The Sliders" title="The Sliders" /> +</div> +<h2>THE SLIDERS.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Come</span> Clara and Jane, Frank and Tom, come along;<br /> +We'll watch the boys sliding, and listen their song:<br /> +You'll hear it ring out like the notes of a horn,<br /> +In the clear, frosty air of this cold winter's morn.<br /> +</div> + + +<h3>THE SONG.</h3> + +<div class='poem'> +Oh! how pleasant it is when the snow's on the ground,<br /> +And the icicles hang on the eaves all around,<br /> +O'er the white winter-carpet our way to pursue,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>With our schoolmates and friends ever hearty and true!<br /> +<br /> +When we come to the place of the jolly long slide,<br /> +With a run and a jump o'er the ice we will glide:<br /> +Look out for the engine! keep off of the rail!<br /> +Don't you hear the steam-whistle? make way for the mail!<br /> +<br /> +We laugh at cold weather; we laugh at mishaps;<br /> +We will slide till we're warm from our shoes to our caps;<br /> +And the quick bounding blood as it mantles and glows<br /> +Shall paint all our cheeks like the fresh, ruddy rose.<br /> +<br /> +So we'll keep the pot boiling; now up the long slide,<br /> +And then down on the other that runs by its side,—<br /> +There's nothing like <i>tiring</i>, there's nothing like <i>rest</i>,—<br /> +Till the broad yellow sun is far down in the west.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">George Bennett</span>. +</div> + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<h2>ELLEN'S CURE FOR SADNESS.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Our</span> little Ellen is never in a good temper when she +comes down late to breakfast, and finds the things cleared +away. First she complains that her bowl of bread and milk +is too hot; and then, when Aunt Alice pours in some water +to cool it, Ellen says, "It is now too cold."</p> + +<p>I think the fault is in herself. She is five years old,—quite +old enough to know that she ought to get up when +the first bell rings, and come down to breakfast. She knows +she is in fault. She has missed papa's kiss, for he had +to leave home early on business; and this adds to her +grief.</p> + +<p>But, after she had eaten her bread and milk on the day I +am speaking of, she asked Aunt Alice what she should do +to cure herself of her "sadness." "I think that the best +plan, in such cases, is to try to do some good to somebody,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +said Aunt Alice. "The best way to cheer yourself is to +cheer another."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus076.png" width="400" height="403" alt="Talking to Aunt Alice" title="Talking to Aunt Alice" /> +</div> + +<p>This made Ellen thoughtful; and she stood at the window, +looking out on the street, long after Aunt Alice had left the +room. It was a cold, cloudy day, and there were flakes of +snow in the air. Ellen stood watching a poor woman at the +corner, who was trying to sell shoe-strings; but nobody +stopped to buy of her.</p> + +<p>"That poor woman looks sad and discouraged," said Ellen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +to herself: "she must be almost as sad as I am. How can +I comfort her? Why, by buying some of her shoestrings, +of course."</p> + +<p>Ellen had some money of her own put away in a box. +She ran and got it, then, putting on her bonnet, went out +and bought a whole bunch of shoestrings. Then, with her +aunt's consent, she asked the poor woman to come in and +get some luncheon.</p> + +<p>The poor woman gladly accepted the invitation; and +Ellen soon had her seated by a nice fire in the kitchen, +chatting and laughing with the maids as merrily as if she +had no care in the world.</p> + +<p>"Have I made you happy?" asked Ellen. "That you +have, you darling," said the poor woman, with a tear in her +eye. "And so you have made <i>me</i> happy," replied Ellen. +Yes, she had found that Aunt Alice was in the right. "The +best way to cheer yourself is to cheer another."</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Emily Carter</span>. +</div> + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 269px;"> +<img src="images/illus077.png" width="269" height="300" alt="Fishing" title="Fishing" /> +</div> + + +<div class='poem2'> +<span class="smcap">Mr. Prim</span> sat on the bank from twelve o'clock till four:<br /> +He caught one fish—he caught a cold—and then—caught nothing more.<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></div> + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<h2>KITTY AND THE BEE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illus078a.png" width="200" height="178" alt="Kitty considering the chickens" title="Kitty considering the chickens" /> +</div> + + +<div class='story'><span class="smcap">There</span> were no mice +for kitty, and what +could she do? She +could not sit still. +She saw the little soft white +chickens running about in the +grass, and she thought she would +try to catch one.</div> + +<div class='story'>So she crouched down, and, +without making a bit of noise, +was getting ready for a spring.</div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illus078b.png" width="200" height="174" alt="Kitty runing from the chicken" title="Kitty runing from the chicken" /> +</div> + +<div class='story'>But the chickens +had a dear mother +who loved them. +When she saw kitty +creeping along, she knew that +they were in danger: so she +flew at kitty, and made a dreadful +noise that scared her away.</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illus079a.png" width="200" height="177" alt="Kitty catching a butteryfly" title="Kitty catching a butteryfly" /> +</div> + +<div class='story'>Then kitty saw a +great butterfly flying +along in the air. By +and by it flew down +upon a flower. Kitty sprang +and caught it in her mouth.</div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illus079b.png" width="200" height="173" alt="Kitty watching the bird" title="Kitty watching the bird" /> +</div> + +<div class='story'>Then she saw a +pretty bird on a bush, +singing as hard as +he could sing. Kitty +crept along under the bush, like +a sly little rogue. But the bird +saw her coming, and flew away.</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illus079c.png" width="200" height="163" alt="Kitty catching the bee" title="Kitty catching the bee" /> +</div> + +<div class='story'>One day a bee was +coming home with +honey. Kitty saw +the bee, and caught +it in her mouth. I think she will +not try to catch any more bees. +Can you guess why?</div> + +<div class='sig'> +W. O. C. +</div> + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> +<h2>MINDING BABY.</h2> + + +<div class='center'><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span></div> + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Rock</span> the cradle<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just a minute;</span><br /> +Rock it gently,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Baby's in it.</span><br /> +If he's sleeping,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Do not wake him;</span><br /> +If he rouses,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nurse will take him.</span><br /> +<br /> +Sing him now<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Some little ditty,</span><br /> +Sweet and bird-like,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Low and pretty.</span><br /> +He will hear it<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In his slumbers,</span><br /> +And will feel<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Its soothing numbers.</span><br /> +<br /> +Sound and sounder<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He'll be sleeping</span><br /> +In the angels'<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Holy keeping;</span><br /> +For they always,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Darling Carrie,</span><br /> +Near to infants<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Watch and tarry.</span><br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br /><span class="smcap">Carrie.</span></div> + +<div class='poem'> +Baby, baby,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stop your play now,</span><br /> +And to sleep-land<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Go away now.</span><br /> +As the bee's rocked<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the lily,</span><br /> +I will rock you,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little Willy.</span><br /> +<br /> +As the May-bough<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Rocks the nest-bird,</span><br /> +I will rock you,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother's best bird.</span><br /> +Boys, at play there,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hush your clatter!</span><br /> +Don't wake baby<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With your chatter!</span><br /> +<br /> +In the garden<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Do not play now:</span><br /> +Go and frolic<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On the hay-mow.</span><br /> +I am minding<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Baby-brother;</span><br /> +For, you see, I'm<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little mother.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">George Bennet.</span></div><p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 291px;"> +<img src="images/illus081.png" width="291" height="400" alt="MINDING BABY." title="MINDING BABY." /> +<span class="caption">MINDING BABY.</span> +</div> + + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 278px;"> +<img src="images/illus082.png" width="278" height="300" alt="Mischief and the clock" title="Mischief and the clock" /> +</div> +<h2>LITTLE MISCHIEF.</h2> + + +<h3>VIII.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bessie</span> went into the parlor one day, and noticed that the +clock did not tick. "I must wind it up," thought she. "It +must be very easy, for you only have to turn the key round +and round."</p> + +<p>So Bessie began to turn the key. At first it would not +move; but then she tried it the other way, and it went +round and round quite easily. She was determined to do +it thoroughly while she was about it: so she went on winding +and winding, and was charmed to hear it begin to tick.</p> + +<p>But all at once it made a noise,—burr-r-r-r,—and then +it stopped ticking.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 280px;"> +<img src="images/illus083.png" width="280" height="300" alt="No sound" title="No sound" /> +</div> + + +<h3>IX.</h3> + +<p>The hands, too, that had been going so fast, stood still. +What could be the reason of it? Had it really stopped? +Bessie put her ear quite near, and listened. Yes, there was +not a sound.</p> + +<p>She began to feel frightened, and to think that perhaps, +after all, she had better have left it alone. Her mother +came into the room and said, "What are you doing, Bessie? +You must have broken the mainspring of the clock."</p> + +<p>"I saw it was not going, mamma, and so I wound it up," +sobbed out Bessie: "I did not mean to break it." That was +all she could say.</p> + + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 239px;"> +<img src="images/illus084.png" width="239" height="325" alt="Benny" title="Benny" /> +</div> +<h2>DEEDS, NOT WORDS.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Benny</span> says he'll be a soldier:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He will march to fife and drum,</span><br /> +With a musket on his shoulder;<br /> +Never stouter heart nor bolder,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where the shots the thickest come.</span><br /> +(Yet I've seen the speckled hen<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>Put to rout brave Captain Ben!)<br /> +<br /> +Willie longs to be sailor:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He will cross the farthest seas;</span><br /> +'Mid the terror and commotion<br /> +Of the dark, tempestuous ocean,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He will pace his deck at ease.</span><br /> +(<i>Storms</i> are <i>certain</i> when we scrub<br /> +Willie in his bathing-tub.)<br /> +<br /> +Nellie hears with awe and wonder<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of the perils they will seek;</span><br /> +Weeps at thought of cruel slaughter;<br /> +Prays for seamen on the water;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blushes for her courage weak:</span><br /> +(Yet the best thing, Nellie dear,<br /> +Is to <i>do</i> the duty near.)<br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +A. D. W. +</div> + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> +<h2>HOW THE WIND FILLS THE SAILS.</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">What</span> makes the vessel move on the river?" asked +little Anna one day of her brother Harry.</p> + +<p>"Why," said Harry, "it's the wind, of course, that fills the +sails, and that pushes the vessel on. Come out on the bank, +and I will show you how it is done."</p> + +<p>So Anna, Harry, and Bravo, all ran out on the lawn. +Bravo was a dog; but he was always curious to see what +was going on.</p> + +<p>When they were on the lawn, Harry took out his handkerchief, +and told Anna to hold it by two of the corners +while he held the other two.</p> + +<p>As soon as they had done this, the wind made it swell +out, and look just like a sail.</p> + +<p>"Now you see how the wind fills the sails," said Harry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 299px;"> +<img src="images/illus086.png" width="299" height="300" alt="Holding the handkerchief" title="Holding the handkerchief" /> +</div> + +<p>"Yes; but how does it make the ship go?" asked Anna.</p> + +<p>"Well, now let go of the handkerchief, and see what becomes +of it," said Harry.</p> + +<p>So they both let go of it; and off the wind bore it up +among the bushes by the side of the house.</p> + +<p>In order to explain the matter still further to his sister, +Harry made a little flat boat out of a shingle, and put in it +a mast, and on the mast a paper sail.</p> + +<p>Then they went down to the river and launched it; and, +much to Anna's delight, the wind bore it far out towards +the middle of the stream.</p> + +<p>Bravo swam out, took it in his mouth, and brought it +back; and Anna was at last quite satisfied that she knew +how it is that the wind makes the vessel go on the river.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Dora Burnside</span>. +</div> + + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 304px;"> +<img src="images/illus087.png" width="304" height="400" alt="Molly and Dolly" title="Molly and Dolly" /> +</div> +<h2>MOLLY TO HER DOLLY.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Well</span>, dolly, here I am again,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just home from school, you see:</span><br /> +Let's come down to our cubby-house<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beneath the willow-tree.</span><br /> +<br /> +There, dolly, now we're snug and safe,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Away from horrid boys;</span><br /> +Oh! don't we hate their teasing tricks,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their rudeness and their noise!</span><br /> +<br /> +Come, let me press your little cheek,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So rosy and so cool;</span><br /> +And I will tell you all about<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The times I had at school.</span><br /> +<br /> +I said my tables pretty well,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But missed on five times seven:</span><br /> +In spelling I went to the head<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(The word, dear, was e-lev-en).</span><br /> +<br /> +At recess, Nelly Fay and I<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A splendid "teter" made:</span><br /> +O dolly! we went up so high,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>You</i> would have been afraid.</span><br /> +<br /> +And Nelly promised she would come<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And spend this afternoon:</span><br /> +So, dolly, I must change your dress,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For she will be here soon.</span><br /> +<br /> +She'll bring with her her stylish doll,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Miss Maud May Rosalie)</span><br /> +Who wears real ear-rings and a watch<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(As vain as she can be)!</span><br /> +<br /> +Ah, dolly! by her Paris dress<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yours will look plain, I fear;</span><br /> +But you have twice as sweet a face,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My <i>ownty</i> darling dear!</span><br /> +</div> + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 256px;"> +<img src="images/illus088a.png" width="256" height="200" alt="Mouse in a bottle" title="Mouse in a bottle" /> +</div> +<h2>IDA'S MOUSE.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">One</span> morning when Ida went to the closet for the birdseed +to feed her canary, she found a wee brown mouse in +the bottom of the bottle where the seed was kept. Instead +of screaming and running away, Ida clapped her fat little +hand over the mouth of the bottle, and mousie was a +prisoner.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 267px;"> +<img src="images/illus088b.png" width="267" height="200" alt="Mousie in a jar" title="Mousie in a jar" /> +</div> + +<p>Mamma said mousie should be drowned; but Ida begged +so hard to keep him, that mamma got a glass jar, put mousie +into it, with a bit of bread and cheese to keep him company,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +tied a piece of tin, all pricked with little holes, over the +mouth of the jar, and set it on the shelf.</p> + +<p>Ida spent half the day in watching the mouse.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 240px;"> +<img src="images/illus089a.png" width="240" height="200" alt="Mousie in a cage" title="Mousie in a cage" /> +</div> + +<p>When papa came home at night, he brought a funny little +tin house for mousie's cage. Mousie was put into it; and +he soon began to make the wire-wheel go round. He turned +the wheel so fast and so long, that he soon made his nose +sore. Ida thought he was very tame; but I think he only +wanted to get out and run away.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 227px;"> +<img src="images/illus089b.png" width="227" height="200" alt="Mousie on the stairs" title="Mousie on the stairs" /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>One day mousie managed to get his door open and scamper +off. Then Ida cried and cried, and was afraid her dear +mousie would starve. But after a day or two, as grandma +was going up stairs, she saw little mousie hopping up ahead +of her.</p> + +<p>He ran into Ida's closet. Ida brought the cage; and +mamma and grandma made mousie run into it.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is not the same mouse," said grandma.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 243px;"> +<img src="images/illus090.png" width="243" height="200" alt="Mousie free" title="Mousie free" /> +</div> + +<p>"Oh, yes, it is!" said Ida. "I know him by his sore +nose."</p> + +<p>Ida took good care of mousie till warm weather came, +and it was time to go into the country for the summer. +Then she took the cage outside the back-gate, and opened +mousie's door. Mousie was very quiet at first; but soon he +peeped out, and, seeing nothing to hinder, he ran away as +fast as his little legs could carry him.</p> + +<p>I am glad that he was set free; for I do not think he +was happy in the cage. I hope he will keep away from +traps and cats, and live to a good old age.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Auntie May</span>.</div> + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus091.png" width="277" height="300" alt="Almost lost" title="Almost lost" /> +</div> +<h2>ALMOST LOST.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Soon</span> after school had commenced, it began snowing so, +that the mistress dismissed all the scholars, and they started +for their homes.</p> + +<p>Among the girls were two little sisters, Julia and Emily +Burns, who lived a mile and a half from the schoolhouse, +and had to cross a wide field, and pass through a wood, before +they could reach the well-known road that led up to their +own house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<p>They had an umbrella with them; and Julia, the elder +sister, had a leather bag on her arm, containing their luncheon. +Soon the snow began to fall with blinding force: the +wind blew, and they could not see their way.</p> + +<p>They were by this time near the entrance to the wood. +Emily began to cry with alarm; but Julia said, "Do not be +afraid. See! there is the little old shanty where the wood-choppers +used to go in winter to eat their dinners. We will +go in there, and stop till somebody comes for us."</p> + +<p>So they went in; and, as good luck would have it, Julia +found some matches in an old box on the shelf. There were +plenty of pine-chips, too, lying in the corner of the one +room, which was all that the shanty afforded.</p> + +<p>Soon Julia had a merry fire blazing on the hearth; then +Emily began to laugh. They sat down on a log, and +warmed themselves; and Julia drew forth their luncheon +from the leather bag, and they ate a hearty meal.</p> + +<p>What do you suppose the sisters did after that? Why, +they began to sing songs, and tell stories, and repeat riddles; +and they were in the midst of this, when they heard +the sound of voices.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! what's that?" cried Emily.</p> + +<p>"It sounds very much like papa's voice," said Julia; "and +that bow-wow sounds like the voice of old Tiger. Yes, here +they come."</p> + +<p>And the next moment the children's father, with two big +boys, sons of one of their neighbors, burst into the room; +and papa exclaimed, "Why, you little rogues, how I have +worried about you! And here you are as comfortable as a +mouse in a meal-bag!"</p> + +<p>Then old Tiger began to frisk round them, and to jump +up as if to kiss them. "Down, old fellow!" said Mr. Burns: +"you told us where they were; didn't you, old Tiger?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tiger barked loudly, as much as to say, "Yes, I told you +where they were; and I think I am the smartest dog that +ever lived. Bow-wow! Of all the dogs ever told about in +'The Nursery,' I am the wisest, the bravest, the handsomest, +and the best. Bow-wow!"</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Mary Elmore</span>. +</div> + + + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus093.png" width="400" height="328" alt="Little May" title="Little May" /> +</div> +<h2>LITTLE MAY.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> were pigs and chickens and cows and a good old +gray pony on the farm where little May lived.</p> + +<p>May loved them all; and they all seemed to love her.</p> + +<p>The cows, as they lay chewing their cud, would let the +little girl pat them as much as she pleased. They never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +shrank from the touch of her soft little hands. Sometimes +papa would let May stand beside him when he milked. +Then she would be sure to get a good saucer of milk to feed +the kittens with. She was a great friend of all the cats.</p> + +<p>She took great delight in feeding the chickens; and she +even liked to throw bits to the pigs. It made her laugh to +see piggy, with one foot in the trough, champing his food +with such a relish.</p> + +<p>Once she saw her papa scratch piggy's back with an old +broom. So, a few days after, she thought she would try it; +but, instead of getting an <i>old</i> broom, she took a nice new +one, and, reaching over the side of the pen, managed to touch +the pig's back with it.</p> + +<p>Now, what do you think that ungrateful animal did? He +caught the broom in his mouth, and began to chew it.</p> + +<p>Off went May to her mother as fast as her little feet could +carry her. "Mamma, mamma!" said she, "come quick. +Oh, dear, dear! piggy is eating the broom."</p> + +<p>To be sure, there was mamma's best carpet-broom all +chewed down to a stub; and the pig was still eating away.</p> + +<p>May cried then; but it was so very funny, that mamma +only laughed, and by and by May laughed too. When papa +got home, he was told the story, and it made him laugh.</p> + +<p>May was almost ready to cry again; for she felt sorry, and +she did not like to be laughed at. "There's nothing to cry +about, darling," said her papa; "but don't try to scratch the +pig's back again until I show you how to do it."</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Aunty May</span>. +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/illus094.png" width="150" height="117" alt="Mug" title="Mug" /> +</div> + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus095.png" width="277" height="202" alt="AN IMPORTANT DISCLOSURE" title="AN IMPORTANT DISCLOSURE" /> +</div> +<h2>AN IMPORTANT DISCLOSURE.</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">I want</span> to tell you something, Tommy."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"The country is going to ruin."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so! What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Rag currency is the matter."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"I'll explain. You paid for that kettle of milk ten cents. +You paid in rag currency. Did you ever see a silver +dime?"</p> + +<p>"No, Billy; but my big brother has seen one."</p> + +<p>"Well, that is specie. Now, what we want is specie payment."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"My father says so."</p> + +<p><i>Carlo the dog listens attentively, and seems to be absorbed +in a profound reflection upon the currency question.</i></p> + + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus096.png" width="600" height="354" alt="Timothy Tippens" title="Timothy Tippens" /> +</div> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/music.png" width="600" height="396" alt="Music" title="Music" /> +</div> + + +<div class="center"><small>[<i>Transcriber's Note: You can play this music (MIDI file) by clicking</i> <a href="music/marmusic.midi">here</a>.]</small></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="8" cellspacing="0" summary="Second and Third Verses"> +<tr><td align='center'>2<br /> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Second verse"> +<tr><td align='left'>Timothy Tippens's horse was blind,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because he couldn't see, oh!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>He'd two legs in front, and two behind;</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And that's one more than three, oh!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Though if two be be-four, and behind two more,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">It looks very like six to me, oh!</span></td></tr> +</table></div></td><td align='center'>3<br /> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Third verse"> +<tr><td align='left'>Timothy Tippens's horse he died,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Tim cried, "Gee," and "Woe," oh!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>And sold his cart to his neighbor Jack,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because it wouldn't go, oh!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Without a horse: and you know, of course,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">It was likely it should be so, oh!</span></td></tr> +</table></div></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div><br /><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"> +<img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /> +</div> +<div><br /><br /></div> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> +<p>The last line of the second verse of the song on page 96 was not indented +in the original.</p> + +<p>This issue was part of an omnibus. The original text for this issue did +not include a title page or table of contents. This was taken from the +January issue with the "No." added. The original table of contents +covered the entire year of 1873. The remaining text of the table of +contents can be found in the rest of the year's issues.</p></div> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, March 1873, Vol. XIII., by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, MARCH 1873 *** + +***** This file should be named 24476-h.htm or 24476-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/4/7/24476/ + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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. 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/dev/null +++ b/24476.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1359 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, March 1873, Vol. XIII., by Various + +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: The Nursery, March 1873, Vol. XIII. + A Monthly Magazine for Youngest People + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 31, 2008 [EBook #24476] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, MARCH 1873 *** + + + + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +THE NURSERY + +_A Monthly Magazine_ + +FOR YOUNGEST READERS. + +VOLUME XIII.--No. 3 + + BOSTON: + JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET. + 1873. + + + + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, + + BY JOHN L. SHOREY, + + In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. + + + + + + BOSTON: + RAND, AVERY, & CO., STEREOTYPERS AND PRINTERS. + + +[Illustration: Contents] + + +IN PROSE. + + PAGE. + The Pigeons and their Friend 65 + + The Obedient Chickens 69 + + John Ray's Performing Dogs 71 + + Ellen's Cure for Sadness 75 + + Kitty and the Bee 78 + + Little Mischief 82 + + How the Wind fills the Sails 85 + + Ida's Mouse 88 + + Almost Lost 91 + + Little May 93 + + An Important Disclosure 95 + + +IN VERSE. + + Rowdy-Dowdy 67 + + The Sliders 74 + + Mr. Prim 77 + + Minding Baby 80 + + Deeds, not Words 84 + + Molly to her Dolly 87 + + Timothy Tippens (_with music_) 96 + +[Illustration: Decoration] + +[Illustration: THE PIGEONS AND THEIR FRIEND.] + + + + +THE PIGEONS AND THEIR FRIEND. + +A TRUE STORY. + + +[Illustration: W]HEN I was in Boston about a year ago, I stopped one day +at the corner of Washington Street and Franklin Street to witness a +pretty sight. + +Here, just as you turn into Franklin Street, on the right, a poor +peddler used to stand with a few baskets of oranges or apples or +peanuts, which he offered for sale to the passers-by. + +The street-pigeons had found in him a good friend; for he used to feed +them with bits of peanuts, crumbs of bread, and seed: and every day, at +a certain hour, they would fly down to get their food. + +On the day when I stopped to see them, the sun shone, and the street was +crowded; and many people stopped, like myself, to see the pretty sight. + +The pigeons did not seem to be at all disturbed or frightened by the +noise of carriages or the press of people; but would fly down, and light +on the peddler's wrist, and peck the food from the palm of his hand. + +He had made them so tame, that they would often light on his shoulders +or on his head; and, if he put food in his mouth, they would try to get +it even from between his teeth. + +The children would flock round to see him; and even the busy newsboy +would pause, and forget the newspapers under his arm, while he watched +these interviews between the birds and their good friend. + +A year afterwards I was in Boston again; but the poor peddler and his +birds were not to be seen. All Franklin Street, and much of the eastern +side of Washington Street, were in ruins. There had been a great fire +in Boston,--the largest that was ever known there; and more than fifty +acres, crowded with buildings, had been made desolate, so that nothing +but smoking ruins was left. This was in November, 1872. + +I do not know where the poor peddler has gone; but I hope that his +little friends, the pigeons, have found him out, and that they still fly +down to bid him good-day, and take their dinner from his open hand. + +The picture is an actual drawing from life, made on the spot, and not +from memory. The likeness of the peddler is a faithful one; and I thank +the artist for reproducing the scene so well to my mind. Folks _do_ say +that he has hit off _my_ likeness also in the man standing behind the +taller of the two little girls. + + ALFRED SELWYN. + + + + + + +ROWDY-DOWDY. + + ROWDY-DOWDY loves a noise; + Cannot play with quiet boys; + Cannot play with quiet toys: + Rowdy-dowdy loves a noise! + + In the street he takes delight,-- + In the street from morn till night: + Don't I tell the story right, + Rowdy-dowdy, noisy sprite? + + Rowdy-dowdy's full of fun; + Never walks if he can run; + Never likes the setting sun: + That stops Rowdy-dowdy's fun. + +[Illustration] + + He is full of prankish ways; + Never still one moment stays; + Boys are fond of boyish plays: + These are Dowdy's rowdy days. + + Out at elbows, out at toes, + Out at knees, the urchin goes: + Still he laughs, and still he grows + Rowdier, dowdier, I suppose. + + Rowdy-dowdy, don't you see, + Full of noisy, boys-y glee, + Is as sweet as he can be, + For the sprite belongs to me! + + He is mine to have and hold, + Worth his weight in solid gold: + Ah! I've not the heart to scold + Rowdy-dowdy, brave and bold! + + JOSEPHINE POLLARD. + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE OBEDIENT CHICKENS. + + +WHEN I was a little girl, I had a nice great Shanghai hen given to me. +She soon laid a nest full of eggs; and then I let her sit on them, till, +to my great joy, she brought out a beautiful brood of chickens. + +They were big fellows even at first, and had longer legs and fewer +feathers than the other little yellow roly-poly broods that lived in our +barn-yard. But, although I could see that they were not quite so pretty +as the others, I made great pets of them. + +They were a lively, stirring family, and used to go roving all over the +farm; but never was there a better behaved, or more thoroughly trained +set of children. If a hawk, or even a big robin, went sailing over head, +how quickly they scampered, and hid themselves at their mother's note of +warning! and how meekly they all trotted roost-ward at the first sound +of her brooding-call! I wish all little folks were as ready to go to bed +at the right time. + +One day when the chickens were five or six weeks' old, I saw them all +following their mother into an old shed near the house. She led them up +into one corner, and then, after talking to them for a few minutes in +the hen language, went out and left them all huddled together. + +She was gone for nearly an hour; and never once did they stir away from +the place where she left them. Then she came back, and said just as +plain as your mother could say it, only in another way, "Cluck, cluck, +cluck! You've all been good chickens while I was away; have you? Well, +now, we'll see what a good dinner we can pick up." + +Out they rushed, pell-mell, as glad to be let out of their prison, and +as pleased to see their mother again, as so many boys and girls would +have been. + +Well, day after day, this same thing happened. It came to be a regular +morning performance; and we hardly knew what to make of it, until one +day we followed old Mother Shanghai, and discovered her secret. + +She had begun to lay eggs again, and was afraid some harm would come to +her young family if she left them out in the field while she was in the +barn on her nest. So she took this way of keeping them out of danger. + +Of course, what she said to her brood when she left them must have been, +"My dears, my duties now call me away from you for a little while; and +you must stay right here, where no harm can come to you, till I come +back. Good-by!" And then off she would march as dignified and earnest as +you please. + +She did this for a number of weeks, until she thought her young folks +were old and wise enough to be trusted out alone. Then she let them take +care of themselves. + +This is a true story. + + EAST DORSET, VT. M. H. F. + +[Illustration] + + + + +JOHN RAY'S PERFORMING DOGS. + + +THERE was once a little boy whose name was John Ray, and who lived near +a large manufacturing town in England. When only seven years old, he +fell from a tree, and was made a cripple for life. + +His father, who was a sailor, was lost at sea soon afterwards; and +then, John's mother dying, the little boy was left an orphan. He was +nine years of age when he went to live with Mrs. Lamson, his aunt,--a +poor woman with a large family of young children. + +It was a sad thought to John that he could not work so as to help his +good aunt. It was his frequent prayer that he might do something so as +not to be a burden to her; but for a long time he could not think of any +thing to do. + +One day a stray dog came to the house; and John gave him a part of his +dinner. The dog liked the attention so well, that he staid near the +house, and would not be driven off. Every day John gave him what he +could spare. + +One day, John said to him, "Doggie, what is your name? Is it Fido? Is it +Frisk? Is it Nero? Is it Nap? Is it Tiger? Is it Toby? Is it Plato? Is +it Pomp?" + +When John uttered the word "Pomp," the dog began to bark; and John said, +"Well, sir, then your name shall be Pomp." Then John began to play with +him, and found that Pomp was not only acquainted with a good many +tricks, but was quick to learn new ones. + +Pomp would walk on his hind-legs better than any dog that John ever saw. +Pomp would let John dress him up in an old coat and a hat; and would sit +on a chair, and hold the reins that were put in his paws, just as if he +were a coachman. + +Pomp learned so well, and afforded such amusement to those who saw his +tricks, that the thought occurred to John, "What if I try to earn some +money by exhibiting Pomp?" + +So John exhibited him in a small way, to some of the neighbors, and with +so much success, that he bought another dog and a monkey, and began to +teach all three to play tricks together. + +A kind lady, who had been informed of his efforts to do something for +his aunt, made some nice dresses for the dogs and the monkey. The +pictures will show you how the animals looked when dressed up for an +exhibition. + +[Illustration] + +The kind lady did still more: she hired a hall in which John could show +off his dogs; and then she sold five hundred tickets for a grand +entertainment. It was so successful, that John was called upon to repeat +it many times. + +Oh! was he not a proud and happy little boy when he found himself so +rich that he could put a twenty-pound note in the hands of his aunt as a +token that he was grateful for all her care of him? + +It was more money than the poor woman had had at any one time in her +whole life before; and she kissed her little nephew, and called him the +best boy in the world. + +John and his dogs grew to be so famous, that he had to go to other +cities to show them; and soon he earned money enough to keep him till he +could learn to be a watchmaker. + +As he was a diligent, faithful workman, he at last became the owner of a +nice house, and then took his aunt and some of her children to live with +him. + + UNCLE CHARLES. + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE SLIDERS. + + + COME Clara and Jane, Frank and Tom, come along; + We'll watch the boys sliding, and listen their song: + You'll hear it ring out like the notes of a horn, + In the clear, frosty air of this cold winter's morn. + + +THE SONG. + + Oh! how pleasant it is when the snow's on the ground, + And the icicles hang on the eaves all around, + O'er the white winter-carpet our way to pursue, + With our schoolmates and friends ever hearty and true! + + When we come to the place of the jolly long slide, + With a run and a jump o'er the ice we will glide: + Look out for the engine! keep off of the rail! + Don't you hear the steam-whistle? make way for the mail! + + We laugh at cold weather; we laugh at mishaps; + We will slide till we're warm from our shoes to our caps; + And the quick bounding blood as it mantles and glows + Shall paint all our cheeks like the fresh, ruddy rose. + + So we'll keep the pot boiling; now up the long slide, + And then down on the other that runs by its side,-- + There's nothing like _tiring_, there's nothing like _rest_,-- + Till the broad yellow sun is far down in the west. + + GEORGE BENNETT. + + + + +ELLEN'S CURE FOR SADNESS. + + +OUR little Ellen is never in a good temper when she comes down late to +breakfast, and finds the things cleared away. First she complains that +her bowl of bread and milk is too hot; and then, when Aunt Alice pours +in some water to cool it, Ellen says, "It is now too cold." + +I think the fault is in herself. She is five years old,--quite old +enough to know that she ought to get up when the first bell rings, and +come down to breakfast. She knows she is in fault. She has missed papa's +kiss, for he had to leave home early on business; and this adds to her +grief. + +But, after she had eaten her bread and milk on the day I am speaking of, +she asked Aunt Alice what she should do to cure herself of her +"sadness." "I think that the best plan, in such cases, is to try to do +some good to somebody," said Aunt Alice. "The best way to cheer +yourself is to cheer another." + +[Illustration] + +This made Ellen thoughtful; and she stood at the window, looking out on +the street, long after Aunt Alice had left the room. It was a cold, +cloudy day, and there were flakes of snow in the air. Ellen stood +watching a poor woman at the corner, who was trying to sell +shoe-strings; but nobody stopped to buy of her. + +"That poor woman looks sad and discouraged," said Ellen to herself: +"she must be almost as sad as I am. How can I comfort her? Why, by +buying some of her shoestrings, of course." + +Ellen had some money of her own put away in a box. She ran and got it, +then, putting on her bonnet, went out and bought a whole bunch of +shoestrings. Then, with her aunt's consent, she asked the poor woman to +come in and get some luncheon. + +The poor woman gladly accepted the invitation; and Ellen soon had her +seated by a nice fire in the kitchen, chatting and laughing with the +maids as merrily as if she had no care in the world. + +"Have I made you happy?" asked Ellen. "That you have, you darling," said +the poor woman, with a tear in her eye. "And so you have made _me_ +happy," replied Ellen. Yes, she had found that Aunt Alice was in the +right. "The best way to cheer yourself is to cheer another." + + EMILY CARTER. + + + + +[Illustration] + + + MR. PRIM sat on the bank from twelve o'clock till four: + He caught one fish--he caught a cold--and then--caught nothing more. + + + + +KITTY AND THE BEE. + +[Illustration] + + +THERE were no mice for kitty, and what could she do? She could not sit +still. She saw the little soft white chickens running about in the +grass, and she thought she would try to catch one. + +So she crouched down, and, without making a bit of noise, was getting +ready for a spring. + +[Illustration] + +But the chickens had a dear mother who loved them. When she saw kitty +creeping along, she knew that they were in danger: so she flew at kitty, +and made a dreadful noise that scared her away. + +[Illustration] + +Then kitty saw a great butterfly flying along in the air. By and by it +flew down upon a flower. Kitty sprang and caught it in her mouth. + +[Illustration] + +Then she saw a pretty bird on a bush, singing as hard as he could sing. +Kitty crept along under the bush, like a sly little rogue. But the bird +saw her coming, and flew away. + +[Illustration] + +One day a bee was coming home with honey. Kitty saw the bee, and caught +it in her mouth. I think she will not try to catch any more bees. Can +you guess why? + + W. O. C. + + + + +MINDING BABY. + + +NURSE. + + ROCK the cradle + Just a minute; + Rock it gently, + Baby's in it. + If he's sleeping, + Do not wake him; + If he rouses, + Nurse will take him. + + Sing him now + Some little ditty, + Sweet and bird-like, + Low and pretty. + He will hear it + In his slumbers, + And will feel + Its soothing numbers. + + Sound and sounder + He'll be sleeping + In the angels' + Holy keeping; + For they always, + Darling Carrie, + Near to infants + Watch and tarry. + + +CARRIE. + + Baby, baby, + Stop your play now, + And to sleep-land + Go away now. + As the bee's rocked + In the lily, + I will rock you, + Little Willy. + + As the May-bough + Rocks the nest-bird, + I will rock you, + Mother's best bird. + Boys, at play there, + Hush your clatter! + Don't wake baby + With your chatter! + + In the garden + Do not play now: + Go and frolic + On the hay-mow. + I am minding + Baby-brother; + For, you see, I'm + Little mother. + + GEORGE BENNET. + +[Illustration: MINDING BABY.] + +[Illustration] + + + + +LITTLE MISCHIEF. + + +VIII. + +BESSIE went into the parlor one day, and noticed that the clock did not +tick. "I must wind it up," thought she. "It must be very easy, for you +only have to turn the key round and round." + +So Bessie began to turn the key. At first it would not move; but then +she tried it the other way, and it went round and round quite easily. +She was determined to do it thoroughly while she was about it: so she +went on winding and winding, and was charmed to hear it begin to tick. + +But all at once it made a noise,--burr-r-r-r,--and then it stopped +ticking. + +[Illustration] + + +IX. + +The hands, too, that had been going so fast, stood still. What could be +the reason of it? Had it really stopped? Bessie put her ear quite near, +and listened. Yes, there was not a sound. + +She began to feel frightened, and to think that perhaps, after all, she +had better have left it alone. Her mother came into the room and said, +"What are you doing, Bessie? You must have broken the mainspring of the +clock." + +"I saw it was not going, mamma, and so I wound it up," sobbed out +Bessie: "I did not mean to break it." That was all she could say. + +[Illustration] + + + + +DEEDS, NOT WORDS. + + + BENNY says he'll be a soldier: + He will march to fife and drum, + With a musket on his shoulder; + Never stouter heart nor bolder, + Where the shots the thickest come. + (Yet I've seen the speckled hen + Put to rout brave Captain Ben!) + + Willie longs to be sailor: + He will cross the farthest seas; + 'Mid the terror and commotion + Of the dark, tempestuous ocean, + He will pace his deck at ease. + (_Storms_ are _certain_ when we scrub + Willie in his bathing-tub.) + + Nellie hears with awe and wonder + Of the perils they will seek; + Weeps at thought of cruel slaughter; + Prays for seamen on the water; + Blushes for her courage weak: + (Yet the best thing, Nellie dear, + Is to _do_ the duty near.) + + A. D. W. + + + + +HOW THE WIND FILLS THE SAILS. + + +"WHAT makes the vessel move on the river?" asked little Anna one day of +her brother Harry. + +"Why," said Harry, "it's the wind, of course, that fills the sails, and +that pushes the vessel on. Come out on the bank, and I will show you how +it is done." + +So Anna, Harry, and Bravo, all ran out on the lawn. Bravo was a dog; but +he was always curious to see what was going on. + +When they were on the lawn, Harry took out his handkerchief, and told +Anna to hold it by two of the corners while he held the other two. + +As soon as they had done this, the wind made it swell out, and look just +like a sail. + +"Now you see how the wind fills the sails," said Harry. + +[Illustration] + +"Yes; but how does it make the ship go?" asked Anna. + +"Well, now let go of the handkerchief, and see what becomes of it," said +Harry. + +So they both let go of it; and off the wind bore it up among the bushes +by the side of the house. + +In order to explain the matter still further to his sister, Harry made a +little flat boat out of a shingle, and put in it a mast, and on the mast +a paper sail. + +Then they went down to the river and launched it; and, much to Anna's +delight, the wind bore it far out towards the middle of the stream. + +Bravo swam out, took it in his mouth, and brought it back; and Anna was +at last quite satisfied that she knew how it is that the wind makes the +vessel go on the river. + + DORA BURNSIDE. + +[Illustration] + + + + +MOLLY TO HER DOLLY. + + + WELL, dolly, here I am again, + Just home from school, you see: + Let's come down to our cubby-house + Beneath the willow-tree. + + There, dolly, now we're snug and safe, + Away from horrid boys; + Oh! don't we hate their teasing tricks, + Their rudeness and their noise! + + Come, let me press your little cheek, + So rosy and so cool; + And I will tell you all about + The times I had at school. + + I said my tables pretty well, + But missed on five times seven: + In spelling I went to the head + (The word, dear, was e-lev-en). + + At recess, Nelly Fay and I + A splendid "teter" made: + O dolly! we went up so high, + _You_ would have been afraid. + + And Nelly promised she would come + And spend this afternoon: + So, dolly, I must change your dress, + For she will be here soon. + + She'll bring with her her stylish doll, + (Miss Maud May Rosalie) + Who wears real ear-rings and a watch + (As vain as she can be)! + + Ah, dolly! by her Paris dress + Yours will look plain, I fear; + But you have twice as sweet a face, + My _ownty_ darling dear! + +[Illustration] + + + + +IDA'S MOUSE. + + +ONE morning when Ida went to the closet for the birdseed to feed her +canary, she found a wee brown mouse in the bottom of the bottle where +the seed was kept. Instead of screaming and running away, Ida clapped +her fat little hand over the mouth of the bottle, and mousie was a +prisoner. + +[Illustration] + +Mamma said mousie should be drowned; but Ida begged so hard to keep him, +that mamma got a glass jar, put mousie into it, with a bit of bread and +cheese to keep him company, tied a piece of tin, all pricked with +little holes, over the mouth of the jar, and set it on the shelf. + +Ida spent half the day in watching the mouse. + +[Illustration] + +When papa came home at night, he brought a funny little tin house for +mousie's cage. Mousie was put into it; and he soon began to make the +wire-wheel go round. He turned the wheel so fast and so long, that he +soon made his nose sore. Ida thought he was very tame; but I think he +only wanted to get out and run away. + +[Illustration] + +One day mousie managed to get his door open and scamper off. Then Ida +cried and cried, and was afraid her dear mousie would starve. But after +a day or two, as grandma was going up stairs, she saw little mousie +hopping up ahead of her. + +He ran into Ida's closet. Ida brought the cage; and mamma and grandma +made mousie run into it. + +"Perhaps it is not the same mouse," said grandma. + +[Illustration] + +"Oh, yes, it is!" said Ida. "I know him by his sore nose." + +Ida took good care of mousie till warm weather came, and it was time to +go into the country for the summer. Then she took the cage outside the +back-gate, and opened mousie's door. Mousie was very quiet at first; but +soon he peeped out, and, seeing nothing to hinder, he ran away as fast +as his little legs could carry him. + +I am glad that he was set free; for I do not think he was happy in the +cage. I hope he will keep away from traps and cats, and live to a good +old age. + + AUNTIE MAY. + +[Illustration] + + + + +ALMOST LOST. + + +SOON after school had commenced, it began snowing so, that the mistress +dismissed all the scholars, and they started for their homes. + +Among the girls were two little sisters, Julia and Emily Burns, who +lived a mile and a half from the schoolhouse, and had to cross a wide +field, and pass through a wood, before they could reach the well-known +road that led up to their own house. + +They had an umbrella with them; and Julia, the elder sister, had a +leather bag on her arm, containing their luncheon. Soon the snow began +to fall with blinding force: the wind blew, and they could not see their +way. + +They were by this time near the entrance to the wood. Emily began to cry +with alarm; but Julia said, "Do not be afraid. See! there is the little +old shanty where the wood-choppers used to go in winter to eat their +dinners. We will go in there, and stop till somebody comes for us." + +So they went in; and, as good luck would have it, Julia found some +matches in an old box on the shelf. There were plenty of pine-chips, +too, lying in the corner of the one room, which was all that the shanty +afforded. + +Soon Julia had a merry fire blazing on the hearth; then Emily began to +laugh. They sat down on a log, and warmed themselves; and Julia drew +forth their luncheon from the leather bag, and they ate a hearty meal. + +What do you suppose the sisters did after that? Why, they began to sing +songs, and tell stories, and repeat riddles; and they were in the midst +of this, when they heard the sound of voices. + +"Oh, dear! what's that?" cried Emily. + +"It sounds very much like papa's voice," said Julia; "and that bow-wow +sounds like the voice of old Tiger. Yes, here they come." + +And the next moment the children's father, with two big boys, sons of +one of their neighbors, burst into the room; and papa exclaimed, "Why, +you little rogues, how I have worried about you! And here you are as +comfortable as a mouse in a meal-bag!" + +Then old Tiger began to frisk round them, and to jump up as if to kiss +them. "Down, old fellow!" said Mr. Burns: "you told us where they were; +didn't you, old Tiger?" + +Tiger barked loudly, as much as to say, "Yes, I told you where they +were; and I think I am the smartest dog that ever lived. Bow-wow! Of all +the dogs ever told about in 'The Nursery,' I am the wisest, the bravest, +the handsomest, and the best. Bow-wow!" + + MARY ELMORE. + + +[Illustration] + + + + +LITTLE MAY. + + +THERE were pigs and chickens and cows and a good old gray pony on the +farm where little May lived. + +May loved them all; and they all seemed to love her. + +The cows, as they lay chewing their cud, would let the little girl pat +them as much as she pleased. They never shrank from the touch of her +soft little hands. Sometimes papa would let May stand beside him when he +milked. Then she would be sure to get a good saucer of milk to feed the +kittens with. She was a great friend of all the cats. + +She took great delight in feeding the chickens; and she even liked to +throw bits to the pigs. It made her laugh to see piggy, with one foot in +the trough, champing his food with such a relish. + +Once she saw her papa scratch piggy's back with an old broom. So, a few +days after, she thought she would try it; but, instead of getting an +_old_ broom, she took a nice new one, and, reaching over the side of the +pen, managed to touch the pig's back with it. + +Now, what do you think that ungrateful animal did? He caught the broom +in his mouth, and began to chew it. + +Off went May to her mother as fast as her little feet could carry her. +"Mamma, mamma!" said she, "come quick. Oh, dear, dear! piggy is eating +the broom." + +To be sure, there was mamma's best carpet-broom all chewed down to a +stub; and the pig was still eating away. + +May cried then; but it was so very funny, that mamma only laughed, and +by and by May laughed too. When papa got home, he was told the story, +and it made him laugh. + +May was almost ready to cry again; for she felt sorry, and she did not +like to be laughed at. "There's nothing to cry about, darling," said her +papa; "but don't try to scratch the pig's back again until I show you +how to do it." + + AUNTY MAY. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +AN IMPORTANT DISCLOSURE. + + +"I WANT to tell you something, Tommy." + +"What is it?" + +"The country is going to ruin." + +"You don't say so! What's the matter?" + +"Rag currency is the matter." + +"What's that?" + +"I'll explain. You paid for that kettle of milk ten cents. You paid in +rag currency. Did you ever see a silver dime?" + +"No, Billy; but my big brother has seen one." + +"Well, that is specie. Now, what we want is specie payment." + +"How do you know?" + +"My father says so." + +_Carlo the dog listens attentively, and seems to be absorbed in a +profound reflection upon the currency question._ + + + + + +[Illustration: TIMOTHY TIPPENS.] + + T. CRAMPTON + + +[Illustration: Music] + +_Lively_. + +VOICE AND PIANO. + + 1 + + Timothy Tippens drove a cart + To a market up the town, oh! + He carried a lot of turnip tops, + And sold for half a crown, oh! + His waistcoat was red and so was his head, + But his little coat was brown, oh! + + 2 + + Timothy Tippens's horse was blind, + Because he couldn't see, oh! + He'd two legs in front, and two behind; + And that's one more than three, oh! + Though if two be be-four, and behind two more, + It looks very like six to me, oh! + + 3 + + Timothy Tippens's horse he died, + And Tim cried, "Gee," and "Woe," oh! + And sold his cart to his neighbor Jack, + Because it wouldn't go, oh! + Without a horse: and you know, of course, + It was likely it should be so, oh! + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Obvious punctuation errors repaired. + +Page 96, the final line of the second verse was not indented in the +original text. + +This issue was part of an omnibus. The original text for this issue did +not include a title page or table of contents. This was taken from the +January issue with the "No." added. The original table of contents +covered the entire year of 1873. The remaining text of the table of +contents can be found in the rest of the year's issues. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, March 1873, Vol. XIII., by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, MARCH 1873 *** + +***** This file should be named 24476.txt or 24476.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/4/7/24476/ + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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. 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