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+Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, April 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, April 1873, Vol. XIII.
+       A Monthly Magazine for Youngest People
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: January 31, 2008 [EBook #24477]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, APRIL 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. 4
+
+        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.
+
+   Try, try again                                     97
+
+   The Prisoner                                       99
+
+   Clarence's Kittens                                103
+
+   The Tiger's Toilet                                104
+
+   Peterlin on his Travels                           106
+
+   George's Boat                                     110
+
+   The Little Carpenter                              112
+
+   Little Mischief                                   114
+
+   Walter's Dog                                      117
+
+   The Horse that loves Children                     119
+
+   How Taddy learned his Lesson                      120
+
+   The Old Clock                                     123
+
+   In the Maple-Woods                                124
+
+
+IN VERSE.
+
+   The Song of the Kettle                            101
+
+   On the Gate                                       108
+
+   Where's the Baby?                                 126
+
+   The Birds' Return                                 127
+
+   Song of the Ducks (_with music_)                  128
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration: "TRY, TRY AGAIN."]
+
+
+
+
+"TRY, TRY AGAIN."
+
+
+[Illustration: I]T is a true story that I am going to tell you now. It
+is about a little boy whose name was William Ross. Having had a present
+of a pencil, he thought he would make use of it by trying to draw.
+
+His first attempts were poor enough. One day, when he had been playing
+ball with a young friend, he stopped, and, taking out his pencil, began
+to draw a picture on the wall.
+
+"What do you call that?" asked his friend. "Why, that is a horse!"
+replied William: "can't you see?"--"A horse! is it?" cried his friend,
+laughing. "Why, I took it for a donkey."
+
+"You are quite right in laughing at it," said William. "Now that I look
+at it again, I see it is all out of drawing; but I will keep at it till
+I can make a good drawing of a horse."
+
+William was not afraid of being laughed at; and he felt much obliged to
+those who pointed out any faults in what he did. He was not discouraged
+by failures. He kept trying till he had used his pencil nearly all up.
+Still he had not yet made a good drawing of a horse.
+
+"You'll never learn to draw: so you may as well give it up first as
+last," said his friend to him one day, some six months after their last
+meeting. "Your horses are all donkeys still."
+
+William opened a portfolio, and, taking out some pictures, said, "What
+do you think of these?"
+
+"Ah! here is something like a horse," replied his friend, looking at one
+of the drawings. "You will never do any thing like this, Willy."
+
+William smiled, but said nothing; though it was his own drawing that his
+friend was praising.
+
+Well, by bravely keeping at it, William at last began to make pictures
+worth looking at. While yet a boy, he sent in a painting to the Society
+of Arts, for which he received a present of a silver palette. He rose to
+be Sir William Ross, miniature painter to Queen Victoria.
+
+Don't be discouraged, my young friends, by failing in your first
+attempts. Learn to persevere. Keep at it. That's the Way.
+
+                                                  UNCLE CHARLES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE PRISONER.
+
+
+EVA is six years old, and has deep-blue eyes. Ernest is almost four
+years old, and has very black eyes. Jessie will be two years old next
+week, and has large brown eyes. Their papa, who has been kept at home
+by illness for a week, thinks that he is just getting acquainted with
+them, and never knew before that he had three such fine children.
+
+He noticed, the other day, that every hour, almost, they would run into
+the sitting-room with cake or sugar or bread-and-butter, scattering
+crumbs all over the carpet, and keeping their mamma busy much of the
+time in sweeping up. So he thought he would call a council to consider
+the matter, and see what could be done about it.
+
+Papa, robed in his dressing-gown, took the chair; Eva was placed in
+front; Ernest stood on the right hand, and Jessie on the left. The
+chairman then told the children how much work they made mamma, and
+proposed a rule,--that no more food should be brought into the
+sitting-room. All who were in favor of such a rule were requested to
+vote for it by raising their hands. Each of the children raised a hand;
+and fat little Jessie raised both of hers as high as she could. So the
+vote was passed.
+
+Then papa said that a rule was good for nothing unless there was a
+penalty with it. So he made Eva judge, and asked her what the punishment
+should be for breaking the rule. "I think," said she, "the first one
+that _spoils_ the rule should be shut up in jail five minutes."
+
+This was thought to be about the right thing: so the bedroom was
+selected for a jail, and Ernest was made jailer. Eva wanted to know,
+since she was judge, and Ernest was jailer, what Jessie could be. Her
+papa said that Jessie would probably be the first prisoner. As to
+Ernest, he went at once and told his mamma that he was "no more a little
+boy, but a jailer-man."
+
+Well, that day no more crumbs were scattered; and Ernest did not get a
+prisoner, though he kept a bright lookout for one. But the next day he
+got one; and this is the way it happened. Papa said he would like an
+apple. Eva brought him one; and, while he was paring and eating it, he
+dropped some of the peel on the floor. In an instant, to his great
+dismay, he was arrested and locked up; and he might have languished in
+jail full five minutes, if Ernest had not been such a kind jailer that
+he let him out in two.
+
+Papa thinks that the next time he makes a rule he will be careful not to
+break it.
+
+                                                        L. P. A.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF THE KETTLE.
+
+
+        MY house is old, the rooms are low,
+          The windows high and small;
+        And a great fireplace, deep and wide,
+          Is built into the wall.
+
+        There, on a hanging chimney-hook,
+          My little kettle swings;
+        And, in the dreary winter-time,
+          How cheerily it sings!
+
+        My kettle will not sing to-day--
+          What could it sing about?
+        For it is empty, it is cold:
+          The fire is all gone out.
+
+        Go, bring to me, to fill it up,
+          Fresh water from the spring;
+        And I will build a rousing fire,
+          And that will make it sing!
+
+        Bring white bark from the silver birch,
+          And pitch-knots from the pine;
+        And here are shavings, long and white,
+          That look as ribbons fine.
+
+        The little match burns faint and blue,
+          But serves the fire to light;
+        And all around my kettle, soon,
+          The flames are rising bright.
+
+        Crack, crack! begins the hemlock-branch,
+          Snap, snap! the chestnut stick;
+        And up the wide old chimney now
+          The sparks are flying thick.
+
+        Like fire-flies on a summer night,
+          They go on shining wings;
+        And, hark! above the roaring blaze
+          My little kettle sings!
+
+        The robin carols in the spring;
+          In summer hums the bee:
+        But, in the dreary winter, give
+          The kettle's song to me.
+
+                                                 MARIAN DOUGLAS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CLARENCE'S KITTENS.
+
+
+CLARENCE is a little boy who loves to read "The Nursery," and often
+laughs at the funny stories in it.
+
+Where Clarence lives, there are two kittens. He calls them kittens; but
+they are both _grown-up_ kittens, and the elder of the two is a
+full-grown cat. One is named Ring, because she has such a pretty white
+ring about her neck; and the other is named Daisy.
+
+Now, Daisy is Ring's aunt, and is sometimes very cross to her niece.
+Being a sedate cat herself, she tries to stop Ring's fun; but Ring is a
+happy kitten, and always tries to have a good time.
+
+One day, after coming from church, Clarence's aunt was reading, when the
+dinner-bell rang. So she left her book on the window-sill, and laid her
+spectacles upon it.
+
+Pretty soon old Daisy seated herself in a very dignified way right in
+front of the book. In a few minutes, little Ring came frisking along,
+and, without paying the least regard to Madam Daisy, up she jumped, and
+whisked the spectacles down on the carpet.
+
+She was just ready to send them flying across the room, when down came
+Madam Daisy as stern as a police-officer. She looked at Ring a moment,
+in a crushing way, then lifted her paw, and boxed the naughty kitten's
+ears till she mewed for mercy.
+
+Ring ran away as soon as she could, and left the spectacles for
+Clarence's mamma to pick up; while old Daisy took her seat on the
+window-sill again, and seemed to feel that she had done her duty.
+
+Clarence thought it was a funny sight to see one cat punish another.
+What do you think about it, little Nursery people?
+
+                                               MRS. L. A. WHITE.
+
+
+
+
+THE TIGER'S TOILET.
+
+
+THIS splendid tiger lived in the Zoölogical Gardens at Berlin. He had a
+very kind keeper named Peens, who used to comb out the long waving hair
+that grew on his cheeks.
+
+He looks in the picture as though he were very angry, and were growling
+and snarling terribly; but though he did gnash his teeth, and make a
+fearful noise, he enjoyed his hair-dressing very much. I have seen some
+children who acted like this tiger when their hair was combed; but that
+was because they were really cross. He is not.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Whenever he saw Peens coming toward his cage with the comb in his hand,
+this tiger would at once throw himself down close to the bars, with his
+head pressed against them, as you see him here, as if he would say, "I'm
+all ready, Peens, go ahead!" This showed how much he liked the feeling
+of the comb.
+
+But, after all, he never forgot that he was a tiger; for if, by
+accident, Peens pulled his hair, he would give a dreadful growl, and
+look as if he would like to eat him up in a minute. Then Peens would
+stop for a moment, until he was good natured again.
+
+A few weeks ago this beautiful and intelligent tiger died. In his last
+hours he mewed constantly with pain, like a great cat, and was only
+quiet when Peens came to the bars, and stroked his cheeks. When the
+keeper went away, he would call after him.
+
+Peens felt very badly at losing his tiger; and I am sure he must have
+been a very kind keeper to him.
+
+Even a tiger may be taught love and gratitude by kind treatment.
+
+                                                 ELIZABETH SILL.
+
+(_Adapted from the German._)
+
+
+
+
+PETERLIN ON HIS TRAVELS.
+
+
+PETERLIN was a chick just five days out of the shell. He began to think
+he was somebody now. The old cornfield became too narrow for him. He
+must start out on his travels, and see something of the world.
+
+Biddy, his mother, clucked and scolded away at him, and told him how he
+might lose himself in the grass, and never find his way home.
+
+But it was of no use. The mother's warnings were unheeded. Off started
+Peterlin; and, before he was well aware of it, the cornfield lay far
+behind him, and he found himself standing on a rock, and gazing forth
+over the wide world.
+
+The valley lay open before him. Dear me, what a world it seemed!--so
+very vast! With fright and amazement Peterlin looked down on all the
+magnificence till he felt himself growing giddy.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+He stood on the brink of an abyss; and far beneath him flowed a stream
+through the blooming land; and over the waters moved proud vessels with
+their white sails and their waving flags.
+
+All at once Peterlin saw a bird in the air. "Oh, dear! what if it should
+be a vulture?" thought he, trembling in every joint. "Oh, if I were only
+once more under my good old mother's wing! Oh! how I wish I had minded
+her warning!"
+
+Off ran Peterlin back through the grass, back over the ploughed field,
+along by the edge of the wood; and then he heard a noise,--"cluck,
+cluck, cluck!" "Oh, joy, joy! That is my mother's voice!" thought he.
+
+Yes, it was Biddy's voice, calling her runaway child. She approached him
+at a quick run; and it was not till he was safe under her wing that the
+quick beat of his heart slackened, and he felt once more at peace.
+Peterlin then and there resolved that he would wait till he was older
+before he started again on his travels.
+
+                                                FROM THE GERMAN.
+
+
+
+
+ON THE GATE.
+
+
+        WHERE are you going? Have you got
+          Any thing good to eat
+        In that big basket? Let me peek!
+          Do you live on our street?
+        I'm six years old to-day; aren't you
+          Surprised? I wish you'd wait!
+        I'll tell you something, if you will,
+          And swing you on our gate.
+
+        This is my grandpa's house. I wish
+          He was your grandpa too!
+        I guess your mother'll let you come
+          And stay with me; don't you?
+        I'm making patchwork: it's to keep
+          The heathens warm. I hate
+        To keep in-doors. I wish I could
+          Swing all day on the gate!
+
+        Have you a doll? Yes? Mine got drowned:
+          Joe threw her down the well;
+        But pretty soon I'm going to buy
+          A new one; don't you tell!
+        My bank is almost full; I'll let
+          You shake it, if you'll wait:
+        Pa said he'd fill it if I would
+          Stop swinging on the gate.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+        We've got some kittens in the barn;
+          They're way up in the loft:
+        I like to hold them in my lap,
+          They feel so warm and soft.
+        Joe broke my little spade one day,
+          Digging the earth for bait:
+        Does your big brother call you names,
+          And pull you off the gate?
+
+        I go to school. I'm at the head:
+          You ought to hear me spell!
+        I and another girl are in
+          The class. There goes the bell!
+        I'll have to run, and get my books.
+          Oh, dear! I shall be late:
+        Another scolding I shall get
+          For swinging on the gate!
+
+                                                           H. B.
+
+
+
+
+GEORGE'S BOAT.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+GEORGE had a boat on a little stream that ran not far from the house.
+The boat was flat; and George pushed it along with a pole. It did not go
+fast.
+
+One day Mabel asked her brother if she might go in the boat with him.
+George said, "Oh, yes!" So he pushed up to the shore, and helped Mabel
+in. Then he pushed off.
+
+How far did they go in the boat? As far as the bridge, by the great
+elm-tree. George thought that was far enough.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Rover saw George and Mabel in the boat, and he wanted to go too. He ran
+down to the shore, and barked. But George said there would not be room
+for him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+There was a place where the grapevines hung over the water. George
+pushed the boat to the place; and he and Mabel picked some grapes.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+By and by the sun was almost down. George and Mabel thought it was time
+to go home. Their mother had told them to come home before dark.
+
+                                                        W. O. C.
+
+
+
+
+THE LITTLE CARPENTER.
+
+
+THE picture of the little boy on the opposite page is from a photograph
+from life: so you may look on it as on a real likeness of some one in
+England. I do not know his name; but I think he must be some one whose
+parents have fitted up a little carpenter's shop for him, so that he may
+learn to do something useful.
+
+The picture reminds me of a true story. About sixty years ago, there was
+a rich man in Germany, of the name of Reinhold, who had seen so much of
+the changes of life, that he resolved that each of his children, both
+boys and girls, should learn some useful trade or profession.
+
+Rudolf, the eldest boy, learned to be a carpenter. But, when he was
+twenty-one years of age, he came into the possession of a large fortune.
+He married, and thought that he had so much money that he could never
+spend it all.
+
+But, before he was fifty years of age, the whole of his large
+possessions had melted away. Some of his stately houses had been burned
+down; and the insurance-offices had failed. Some men he had trusted had
+proved dishonest; and many schemes that he had entered upon had turned
+out badly.
+
+At the age of forty-six, Rudolf Reinhold took up the business of a
+carpenter, which he had learned between the ages of fourteen and
+eighteen. He soon became skilful, and turned his attention to building
+houses in the city of Berlin. So successful was he, that in ten years he
+was once more a rich man.
+
+One of his daughters had become a dressmaker, and another a
+music-teacher; and even when, at last, they were once more rich, they
+always felt glad that their father had made them accomplish themselves
+in useful pursuits, instead of leading lives of idleness and
+self-indulgence.
+
+                                                  UNCLE CHARLES.
+
+[Illustration: THE LITTLE CARPENTER.]
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE MISCHIEF.
+
+
+X.
+
+BESSIE'S mother had an aquarium. If you do not know what that is, I will
+tell you. The Latin word _aqua_ means water; and the name _aquarium_ has
+been given to a glass case holding water for fishes and for sea-plants.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+One day, when the pretty gold-fishes were not swimming about in a very
+lively manner, Bessie thought it must be because they were cold. "Poor
+things!" said she, "there is no fire in the room; and the water feels
+quite chilly. It must be sad to swim about in cold water all day. What
+can I do for them?"
+
+
+XI.
+
+Although there was no fire in the room, there was a jug of hot water on
+the hearth, which Susan had left there a few minutes before.
+
+"How fortunate!" thought Bessie. "Now I can give these poor little
+fishes a nice hot bath. They will like it, I know. What a kind little
+girl they will think me!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+So she took the jug, mounted into the arm-chair, and poured the whole
+jugful of water on the fish. It made them very lively; and Bessie put
+down the jug, jumped off the chair, and got a stool to stand on to watch
+the little things through the glass.
+
+
+XII.
+
+Soon the little fishes grew still; and then, one by one, they rose to
+the surface, and turned over upon their backs. Bessie had never seen
+them do that before; and she began to feel a little frightened. She
+wished they would move their fins, and begin to swim again; but they did
+not: they lay quite still.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+At last she put in her hand, and drew one out of the water, so that she
+might look at it closer. Then she could no longer doubt what was the
+matter with it. The poor fish was quite dead,--cooked, in fact. Bessie
+burst out crying, and sobbed as if her heart would break.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WALTER'S DOG.
+
+
+"MAMMA, why can't I have a collar for Fido, like that on Charley's
+dog?"--"You must wait until our ship comes in," said his mother,
+laughing.
+
+Walter believed that a ship was really coming, and set to thinking of
+the things that he hoped it would bring him. Then he called Fido, and
+told him how much he wished to give him a collar.
+
+If Fido had known how to speak, perhaps he would have said, "I don't
+care much about a collar: I get along just as well without it." But Fido
+could not speak English, though he barked smartly when Walter said,
+"Speak, sir."
+
+I must tell you some of Fido's funny ways. He would sit up on his
+haunches, drop his fore-paws, and wait for Walter to put a piece of
+bread on his nose; then he would sit quite still while Walter counted,
+"One, two, three;" and, at the word "three," he would give his head a
+toss, and catch the bread in his mouth.
+
+Fido had a great taste for music. There was one tune in particular that
+he was very fond of; and, when it was played on the piano, he would
+begin to make a whining noise, which would grow louder and louder, until
+it ended in sharp, quick barks, keeping time with the music. Walter
+called this "Fido's singing."
+
+Fido liked dancing-tunes; but there was a friend of his, one of the
+neighbor's dogs, that liked only psalm-tunes. He would whine solemnly
+until a lively tune was struck up; when he would slink away in manifest
+displeasure. He would not countenance such frivolity.
+
+So you see, dogs have their fancies as well as human beings.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE HORSE THAT LOVES CHILDREN.
+
+
+THIS is a picture of the horse that refuses to run over children. His
+name is Prince. Once his master was driving him along a narrow street,
+when Prince saw an infant creeping along across the street right in his
+way.
+
+Prince at once slackened his speed; and though his master, who did not
+know that the infant lay in the way, touched him with the whip, Prince
+knew better than to hurt the poor little infant.
+
+At last the good horse stopped short, and refused to move. His master
+got out of the buggy to see what was the matter; and there, close by the
+horse's fore-feet, was a baby on its knees.
+
+Was not Prince a good, wise horse to refuse to harm the baby? Another
+time, when a little boy came up behind him, when the flies were
+pestering him, Prince, instead of kicking him, just lifted up one of his
+hind-feet, and pushed him gently away.
+
+Prince is very fond of sugar; and, as his master's little girls used to
+feed him with it, I think that is one reason why he is so kind to all
+children. Whenever Prince sees these little girls, he will make a queer
+whinnying noise, the meaning of which is, "Oh, do give me a lump of
+sugar!"
+
+In the picture, the hostler is offering Prince some oats; but Prince
+knows that the man has some sugar, and so he refuses the oats. He wants
+his sugar first.
+
+                                                ANNA LIVINGSTON.
+
+
+
+
+HOW TADDY LEARNED HIS LESSON.
+
+
+TADDY and his mamma had just got nicely settled, she with some sewing,
+and he with a little primer, out of which he was beginning to learn his
+lesson, when mamma was called away to see a neighbor who was sick. She
+only stopped to tell Taddy to study his lesson like a good boy, while
+she was gone. But, instead of looking on his book, the little boy, as
+soon as he was left alone, began to look out of the window. In an open
+lot behind the house he saw grown-up Jamie, who lived next door, skating
+on a little sheet of ice.
+
+Taddy's eyes began to grow round. "Don't I _wish_ I was a big boy too,
+so I could skate!" he said to himself.
+
+Then he saw Jamie take off his skates, and lay them down on the ice, and
+go off on an errand for his mother.
+
+All at once it popped into Tad's head to slip down the back-stairs, and
+out through the gate, and just _see_ if he could not skate.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"I'm sure," said he, "it can't be so very hard: the boys do it _so_
+easy! What if I do tumble down a few times at first! I don't mind a
+little bump."
+
+So he sped down the stairs, tied on his cap and scarf, tucked his
+mittens in his pocket, and was off for the ice.
+
+"The skates are too long for me, but that is no matter. I know how to
+put them on. There! now they're on. Hurrah! here I g--! Oh!"
+
+Down he sat, before he had hardly got upon his feet. He got a hard bump;
+and his bare hands rubbed upon the ice till they were so cold, that, if
+he hadn't made up his mind to be stout-hearted, he would have been glad
+to go in and warm them.
+
+But he pulled out his mittens, saying, "I must get up slowly: that's the
+way the boys do." So he raised himself on his hands and knees first,
+planting one foot at a time firmly before trying to stand. But, as he
+was straightening up his back, somehow his heels slipped up; and this
+time it was his poor little head that rapped so smartly upon the
+treacherous ice.
+
+Taddy lay still a minute, not feeling quite so hopeful about the next
+attempt; when he happened to see a little tree just a few steps off. So
+he crept quickly over to it, feeling sure now of success. Catching hold
+of it, he helped himself up to a firm stand, saying, "Now, I must put
+one foot out at a time, so,--and then the other. Oh! I can do it now."
+
+So he tried again. One beautiful stroke, then another, and over he went
+again, flat on his nose! But this was not all. Such a crash as even his
+little body could make was too much for the ice, which happened to be
+rather thin around that friendly tree; and, by the time Taddy had picked
+himself up, he was above his knees in water. There was a terrible ache
+at his nose; and he put up his hand to warm it a minute, but was
+frightened to find his mittens all spotted with blood. This was too much
+for him. He sent forth a cry that would have made your heart ache.
+
+Just then Jamie came back; and there he found poor Taddy standing in the
+water, holding out one hand, and looking at the bloody mitten through
+his tears, the other covering tightly his aching nose; while a big
+purple bump was rapidly appearing on his forehead.
+
+"Halloo! what's going on?" shouted Jamie. Taddy's story was very humble;
+and kind-hearted Jamie carried him into the house, where his mother was
+just inquiring for him.
+
+"I left my little boy to learn another kind of lesson," she said. "But
+perhaps the one he has taught himself will do as much good."
+
+                                                           M. L.
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD CLOCK.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+"[Illustration: T]ICK, tock! tick, tock!" That is what the old clock
+said. And the boy sat at a table near by, and leaned his head upon his
+hand, and put the end of the pen-holder in his mouth, instead of writing
+his theme on the "Flight of Time."
+
+"Tick, tock! tick, tock!" said again the old clock; and then there was a
+little buzzing noise, and the old clock began to strike; and all at once
+a little door over the dial-plate opened, and there stood a little bird
+crying, "Cuckoo, cuckoo!" And over the bird, on the top of the clock, a
+little man started up in a red coat, with sabre and musket complete, and
+began to march backwards and forwards.
+
+Henry did not look up to see the bird and the little man; for he wanted
+to be out in the garden at play with his sister, instead of trying to
+write a theme on the "Flight of Time."
+
+At last Henry finished his theme in these words: "Time does not fly at
+all fast for me when I am trying to write a theme. On the contrary, it
+seems very long indeed. We ought to improve our time. We ought to work.
+Life is short. My theme is ended. And now, having written the required
+number of words, I will go out in the garden, and see if any peaches
+have fallen during the night."
+
+So Henry ran out in the garden; and he and his sister had a good frolic
+among the flowers and the fruit-trees. Whether he got a good mark, the
+next day at school, for his theme on the "Flight of Time," I cannot tell
+you.
+
+                                                  CARL HEINSMAN.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+IN THE MAPLE WOODS.
+
+
+IN the early spring, when the snow melts, thousands of men in the
+Northern and Western States are busy making maple-sugar. If you have
+seen only the dirty-looking brown cakes of maple-sugar sold in many
+places, you know very little about it. I have seen it as white as snow,
+although it is generally brown. Then there is the nice sirup; and did
+you ever eat any maple-candy? Well, I will tell you a story.
+
+        Willy and his sisters lived in Vermont, where a
+        great deal of maple-sugar is made. One spring,
+        when their Cousin Leonard came to see them,
+        they thought it would be fine fun to go to the
+        maple woods, where the men had been making
+        sugar, and try to make some candy. It was a
+        bright day, not very cold, although some snow
+        was still left upon the ground.
+
+        "Mother," said Willy, "may we go to the woods
+        to-day, and make some maple-candy?"--"Yes,"
+        said his mother, "only be careful not to wet
+        your feet."--"Oh! what a nice time we will
+        have!" said the two girls; and they all clapped
+        their hands for joy.
+
+        In a few minutes their mother had put them up a
+        nice luncheon. Then they took a small kettle,
+        two or three tin cups, three spoons, and a
+        hatchet. These things they packed upon a
+        hand-sled; and, when all was ready, they set
+        out at a brisk pace through the fields, over
+        the snow, the boys drawing the sled, and the
+        girls following close behind.
+
+        [Illustration]
+
+        There was a good path, and they soon came to
+        the woods. On the edge of the woods was a hut,
+        where the men rested sometimes while making
+        sugar. The children thought they would play
+        that was their house. Nobody was there that
+        day: so they had it all to themselves.
+
+        A little way out of the woods were two large
+        stakes with a pole across them, on which hung a
+        large kettle. Some half-burnt logs and ashes
+        were under the kettle, but the fire was all
+        out. A pile of wood was not far off; and
+        branches of trees, chips, and logs were
+        scattered around.
+
+        The children gathered dry leaves and sticks,
+        and made a fire in a safe place. The next thing
+        to do was to get some sap to boil into candy.
+        What is sap? It is the juice of a tree. When
+        the warm spring sunshine melts the snow, the
+        roots of the tree drink in the moisture of the
+        earth. This goes up into the tree, and makes
+        sap. The sap within the tree, and the sunshine
+        without, make the buds swell, and the bright
+        fresh leaves come out.
+
+        For making sugar the sap of the maple-tree is
+        used. But how is the sap got from the trees?
+        and how is it made into sugar? I will tell
+        you. A hole is bored in each tree, a spout put
+        in the hole, and a bucket is placed underneath.
+        This is called "tapping the tree." The sap runs
+        from the tree into the bucket, drop by drop,
+        until it is full. Then the sap is boiled till
+        it becomes sirup; and the sirup is boiled into
+        sugar.
+
+        The children found that the sap was dropping
+        from the spouts in the trees around them. Some
+        of the buckets were nearly full. They soon
+        gathered enough into their little tin cups to
+        fill their kettle; and then they put it on the
+        fire to boil.
+
+        While it was boiling, they thought they would
+        eat their luncheon. What do you suppose they
+        had besides bread? I will tell you. They had
+        thin slices of _raw_ meat. "But did they eat it
+        raw?" perhaps you will ask. Oh, no! The boys
+        whittled out some clean, pointed sticks, on
+        which they held their meat close to the fire
+        till it was roasted to a beautiful brown; and
+        then you cannot think how good it tasted. After
+        eating their bread and meat, they had some nice
+        crullers and cheese to end off with.
+
+        Well, by and by the sap in the little kettle
+        had boiled into sirup. Then the children
+        brought some clean snow in their cups, and
+        carefully dipped a spoonful of hot sirup into
+        each cup. The snow cooled it at once, and
+        turned it into clear, hard candy. I wish you
+        could have had some of it to eat! I know they
+        thought it was delicious.
+
+        Soon after they had eaten their candy, they put
+        out the fire with snow, and went home, having
+        had a very happy time; and they did not forget
+        to take candy enough with them for mother and
+        little sister, and all the rest of the family.
+
+                                                   ANNA HOLYOKE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHERE IS THE BABY?
+
+
+        OH! who has seen my baby?
+          Does anybody know
+        Where I can find my darling,
+          My precious little Joe?
+
+        The house is very lonesome;
+          No baby do I see:
+        Oh! if my missing treasure
+          Would but come back to me!
+
+        Ah! here is a young lady,
+          Just four years old to-day,
+        Who tells me that my darling
+          Is not so far away.
+
+        What! this great girl my baby?
+          Well, well, it must be so;
+        But, really, it's amazing
+          To see how babies grow.
+
+                                                   KATE CAMERON.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE BIRD'S RETURN.
+
+
+        "WHERE have you been, little birdie,--
+         Where have you been so long?"
+
+              "Warbling in glee
+               Far o'er the sea,
+         And learning for you a new song,
+               My sweet,--
+         Learning for you a new song."
+
+        "Why did you go, little birdie,--
+         Why did you go from me?"
+
+              "Winter was here,
+               Leafless and drear;
+         And so I flew over the sea,
+               My sweet,--
+         So I flew over the sea."
+
+        "What did you see, little birdie,--
+         What did you see each day?"
+
+              "Sunshine and flowers,
+               Blossoms and bowers,
+         And pretty white lambkins at play,
+               My sweet,--
+         Pretty white lambkins at play."
+
+        "Who kept you safe, little birdie,--
+         Who kept you safe from harm?"
+
+              "The Father of all,
+               Of great and of small:
+         He sheltered me under his arm,
+               My sweet,--
+         Under his dear, loving arm."
+
+                                                  GEORGE COOPER.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE DUCKS AND GEESE.]
+
+[Illustration: Music]
+
+
+THE DUCKS AND GEESE.
+
+        Words from "The Nursery."          Music by T. CRAMPTON.
+
+_Lively. mf_
+
+
+        1. Spring is coming, spring is here!
+        All ye ducks and geese draw near!
+        Into ponds and streamlets dashing;
+        Come, ye waddlers join the splashing!
+        Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack!
+        Good soft mud and running water,
+        Now waddlers shall not lack.
+
+        Now the snows are melting, going,
+        Now the little streams are flowing;
+        Buds are swelling, birds are singing,
+        Odors sweet the wind is bringing;
+        Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack!
+        Good soft mud and running water,
+        Now waddlers shall not lack.
+
+        Little girls and boys are straying,
+        Or in sunny meadows playing,
+        Seeking buttercups and clover,
+        While their hearts with joy run over;
+        But--what goose can't see it plainly?--
+        Spring for _us_ is given mainly.
+                             Quack, quack, &c.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Page 124, double word "time" removed. Original text read, "what a nice
+time time we will have!"
+
+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, April 1873, Vol. XIII., by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, APRIL 1873 ***
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