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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/24477-8.txt b/24477-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7c5aacf --- /dev/null +++ b/24477-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1399 @@ +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 *** + +***** This file should be named 24477-8.txt or 24477-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/4/7/24477/ + +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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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 + + + + + + +</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. 4<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'>Try, try again</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Prisoner</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Clarence's Kittens</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Tiger's Toilet</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Peterlin on his Travels</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_106">106</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>George's Boat</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Carpenter</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Little Mischief</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Walter's Dog</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Horse that loves Children</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>How Taddy learned his Lesson</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Old Clock</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>In the Maple-Woods</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_124">124</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'>The Song of the Kettle</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>On the Gate</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Where's the Baby?</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Birds' Return</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Song of the Ducks (<i>with music</i>)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_128">128</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_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 278px;"> +<img src="images/illus097.png" width="278" height="400" alt=""TRY, TRY AGAIN."" title=""TRY, TRY AGAIN."" /> +<span class="caption">"TRY, TRY AGAIN."</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_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<h2>"TRY, TRY AGAIN."</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 101px;"> +<img src="images/i.png" width="101" height="100" alt="I" title="I" /> +</div><div class='unindent'><br />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.</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>William opened a portfolio, and, taking out some pictures, +said, "What do you think of these?"</p> + +<p>"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."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + +<p>William smiled, but said nothing; though it was his own +drawing that his friend was praising.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Don't be discouraged, my young friends, by failing in +your first attempts. Learn to persevere. Keep at it. +That's the Way.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Uncle Charles.</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: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus099.png" width="277" height="206" alt="The Prisoner" title="The Prisoner" /> +</div> +<h2>THE PRISONER.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Eva</span> 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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>spoils</i> the +rule should be shut up in jail five minutes."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>Papa thinks that the next time he makes a rule he will +be careful not to break it.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">L. P. A.</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: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus101.png" width="277" height="209" alt="The Song of the Kettle" title="The Song of the Kettle" /> +</div> +<h2>THE SONG OF THE KETTLE.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">My</span> house is old, the rooms are low,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The windows high and small;</span><br /> +And a great fireplace, deep and wide,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is built into the wall.</span><br /> +<br /> +There, on a hanging chimney-hook,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My little kettle swings;</span><br /> +And, in the dreary winter-time,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How cheerily it sings!</span><br /> +<br /> +My kettle will not sing to-day—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What could it sing about?</span><br /> +For it is empty, it is cold:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The fire is all gone out.</span><br /> +<br /> +Go, bring to me, to fill it up,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Fresh water from the spring;</span><br /> +And I will build a rousing fire,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And that will make it sing!</span><br /> +<br /> +Bring white bark from the silver birch,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And pitch-knots from the pine;</span><br /> +And here are shavings, long and white,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That look as ribbons fine.</span><br /> +<br /> +The little match burns faint and blue,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But serves the fire to light;</span><br /> +And all around my kettle, soon,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The flames are rising bright.</span><br /> +<br /> +Crack, crack! begins the hemlock-branch,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Snap, snap! the chestnut stick;</span><br /> +And up the wide old chimney now<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The sparks are flying thick.</span><br /> +<br /> +Like fire-flies on a summer night,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They go on shining wings;</span><br /> +And, hark! above the roaring blaze<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">My little kettle sings!</span><br /> +<br /> +The robin carols in the spring;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In summer hums the bee:</span><br /> +But, in the dreary winter, give<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The kettle's song to me.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'><br /> +<span class="smcap">Marian Douglas.</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: 173px;"> +<img src="images/illus103.png" width="173" height="200" alt="Clarence" title="Clarence" /> +</div> +<h2>CLARENCE'S KITTENS.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Clarence</span> is a little boy who loves to read "The Nursery," +and often laughs at the funny stories in it.</p> + +<p>Where Clarence lives, there are two kittens. He calls +them kittens; but they are both <i>grown-up</i> 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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Clarence thought it was a funny sight to see one cat +punish another. What do you think about it, little Nursery +people?</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Mrs. L. A. White.</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> +<h2>THE TIGER'S TOILET.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> 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.</p> + +<p>He looks in the picture as though he were very angry, +and were growling and snarling terribly; but though he did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus105.png" width="277" height="292" alt="The Tiger" title="The Tiger" /> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>But, after all, he never forgot that he was a tiger; for if,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Peens felt very badly at losing his tiger; and I am sure +he must have been a very kind keeper to him.</p> + +<p>Even a tiger may be taught love and gratitude by kind +treatment.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Elizabeth Sill.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='center'>(<i>Adapted from the German.</i>)</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>PETERLIN ON HIS TRAVELS.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Peterlin</span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus107.png" width="277" height="220" alt="Peterlin on the brink of an abyss" title="Peterlin on the brink of an abyss" /> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Yes, it was Biddy's voice, calling her runaway child. She +approached him at a quick run; and it was not till he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">From the German.</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> +<h2>ON THE GATE.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Where</span> are you going? Have you got<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Any thing good to eat</span><br /> +In that big basket? Let me peek!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Do you live on our street?</span><br /> +I'm six years old to-day; aren't you<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Surprised? I wish you'd wait!</span><br /> +I'll tell you something, if you will,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And swing you on our gate.</span><br /> +<br /> +This is my grandpa's house. I wish<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He was your grandpa too!</span><br /> +I guess your mother'll let you come<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And stay with me; don't you?</span><br /> +I'm making patchwork: it's to keep<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The heathens warm. I hate</span><br /> +To keep in-doors. I wish I could<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Swing all day on the gate!</span><br /> +<br /> +Have you a doll? Yes? Mine got drowned:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Joe threw her down the well;</span><br /> +But pretty soon I'm going to buy<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A new one; don't you tell!</span><br /> +My bank is almost full; I'll let<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You shake it, if you'll wait:</span><br /> +Pa said he'd fill it if I would<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stop swinging on the gate.</span><br /></div><p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus109.png" width="277" height="211" alt="On the gate" title="On the gate" /> +</div> + +<div class='poem'> +We've got some kittens in the barn;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They're way up in the loft:</span><br /> +I like to hold them in my lap,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They feel so warm and soft.</span><br /> +Joe broke my little spade one day,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Digging the earth for bait:</span><br /> +Does your big brother call you names,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And pull you off the gate?</span><br /> +<br /> +I go to school. I'm at the head:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You ought to hear me spell!</span><br /> +I and another girl are in<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The class. There goes the bell!</span><br /> +I'll have to run, and get my books.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh, dear! I shall be late:</span><br /> +Another scolding I shall get<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For swinging on the gate!</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +H. B.<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_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> +<h2>GEORGE'S BOAT.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 125px;"> +<img src="images/illus110a.png" width="125" height="103" alt="George on the boat" title="George on the boat" /> +</div> + +<div class='story'><span class="smcap">George</span> 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.</div> +<div class="figright" style="width: 125px;"> +<img src="images/illus110b.png" width="125" height="107" alt="Mabel asked if she might go" title="Mabel asked if she might go" /> +</div> +<div class='story'>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.</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 125px;"> +<img src="images/illus110c.png" width="125" height="103" alt="How far did the boat go?" title="How far did the boat go?" /> +</div> +<div class='story'>How far did they +go in the boat? As +far as the bridge, by +the great elm-tree. +George thought that was far +enough.</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> +<div class="figright" style="width: 125px;"> +<img src="images/illus111a.png" width="125" height="109" alt="Rover saw George and Mabel" title="Rover saw George and Mabel" /> +</div> + +<div class='story'>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.</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 125px;"> +<img src="images/illus111b.png" width="125" height="111" alt="George and Mabel picked some grapes" title="George and Mabel picked some grapes" /> +</div> + +<div class='story'>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.</div> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 125px;"> +<img src="images/illus111c.png" width="125" height="101" alt="George and Mabel thought it was time to come home" title="George and Mabel thought it was time to come home" /> +</div> + +<div class='story'>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.</div> + +<div class='sig'> +W. O. C.<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_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE LITTLE CARPENTER.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Uncle Charles.</span><br /> +</div> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 276px;"> +<img src="images/illus113.png" width="276" height="400" alt="THE LITTLE CARPENTER." title="THE LITTLE CARPENTER." /> +<span class="caption">THE LITTLE CARPENTER.</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_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<h2>LITTLE MISCHIEF.</h2> + + +<h3>X.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bessie's</span> mother had an aquarium. If you do not know +what that is, I will tell you. The Latin word <i>aqua</i> means +water; and the name <i>aquarium</i> has been given to a glass +case holding water for fishes and for sea-plants.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 283px;"> +<img src="images/illus114.png" width="283" height="300" alt="Looking at the goldfish" title="Looking at the goldfish" /> +</div> + +<p>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?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>XI.</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/illus115.png" width="300" height="284" alt="Pouring hot water in" title="Pouring hot water in" /> +</div> + +<p>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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>XII.</h3> + +<p>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.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 283px;"> +<img src="images/illus116.png" width="283" height="300" alt="The fish grew still" title="The fish grew still" /> +</div> + +<p>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.</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_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 280px;"> +<img src="images/illus117.png" width="280" height="363" alt="WALTER'S DOG." title="WALTER'S DOG." /> +</div> +<h2>WALTER'S DOG.</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Mamma</span>, 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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>So you see, dogs have their fancies as well as human +beings.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/illus118.png" width="150" height="105" alt="Doghouse" title="Doghouse" /> +</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_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus119.png" width="277" height="239" alt="THE HORSE THAT LOVES CHILDREN." title="THE HORSE THAT LOVES CHILDREN." /> +</div> + +<h2>THE HORSE THAT LOVES CHILDREN.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Anna Livingston.</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> +<h2>HOW TADDY LEARNED HIS LESSON.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Taddy</span> 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.</p> + +<p>Taddy's eyes began to grow round. "Don't I <i>wish</i> I was +a big boy too, so I could skate!" he said to himself.</p> + +<p>Then he saw Jamie take off his skates, and lay them down +on the ice, and go off on an errand for his mother.</p> + +<p>All at once it popped into Tad's head to slip down the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +back-stairs, and out through the gate, and just <i>see</i> if he +could not skate.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus121.png" width="277" height="208" alt="Then Jamie came back" title="Then Jamie came back" /> +</div> + +<p>"I'm sure," said he, "it can't be so very hard: the boys do +it <i>so</i> easy! What if I do tumble down a few times at first! +I don't mind a little bump."</p> + +<p>So he sped down the stairs, tied on his cap and scarf, +tucked his mittens in his pocket, and was off for the ice.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>But he pulled out his mittens, saying, "I must get up +slowly: that's the way the boys do." So he raised himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<div class='sig'> +M. L.<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_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE OLD CLOCK.</h2> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 181px;"> +<img src="images/illus123.png" width="181" height="350" alt="The Old Clock" title="The Old Clock" /> +</div> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 58px;"> +<img src="images/t.png" width="58" height="80" alt="T" title="T" /> +</div><div class='unindent'><br />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."</div> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Carl Heinsman.</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> +<h2>IN THE MAPLE WOODS.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> 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.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>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.</p> + +<p>"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 <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'time time'">time</ins> we will have!" said the two +girls; and they all clapped their hands for joy.</p> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +set out at a brisk pace through the fields, over the snow, the boys drawing +the sled, and the girls following close behind.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/illus125.png" width="277" height="210" alt="In the woods" title="In the woods" /> +</div> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>raw</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p></div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Anna Holyoke.</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> +<h2>WHERE IS THE BABY?</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Oh!</span> who has seen my baby?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Does anybody know</span><br /> +Where I can find my darling,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My precious little Joe?</span><br /> +<br /> +The house is very lonesome;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No baby do I see:</span><br /> +Oh! if my missing treasure<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would but come back to me!</span><br /> +<br /> +Ah! here is a young lady,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just four years old to-day,</span><br /> +Who tells me that my darling<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is not so far away.</span><br /> +<br /> +What! this great girl my baby?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Well, well, it must be so;</span><br /> +But, really, it's amazing<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To see how babies grow.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'><br /> +<span class="smcap">Kate Cameron.</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_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus127a.png" width="400" height="75" alt="Birds" title="Birds" /> +</div> +<h2>THE BIRD'S RETURN.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +"<span class="smcap">Where</span> have you been, little birdie,—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Where have you been so long?"</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">"Warbling in glee</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Far o'er the sea,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And learning for you a new song,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">My sweet,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Learning for you a new song."</span><br /> +<br /> +"Why did you go, little birdie,—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Why did you go from me?"</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">"Winter was here,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Leafless and drear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And so I flew over the sea,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">My sweet,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So I flew over the sea."</span><br /> +<br /> +"What did you see, little birdie,—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">What did you see each day?"</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">"Sunshine and flowers,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Blossoms and bowers,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And pretty white lambkins at play,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">My sweet,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Pretty white lambkins at play."</span><br /> +<br /> +"Who kept you safe, little birdie,—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Who kept you safe from harm?"</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">"The Father of all,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Of great and of small:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He sheltered me under his arm,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">My sweet,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Under his dear, loving arm."</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'><br /> +<span class="smcap">George Cooper.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illus127b.png" width="200" height="192" alt="Bird landing" title="Bird landing" /> +</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_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus128.png" width="600" height="301" alt="THE DUCKS AND GEESE." title="THE DUCKS AND GEESE." /> +</div> +<h2>THE DUCKS AND GEESE.</h2> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/music.png" width="600" height="536" 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/aprmusic.midi">here</a>.]</small></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="8" cellspacing="0" summary="Verses Two and Three"> +<tr><td align='left'>Now the snows are melting, going,<br /> +Now the little streams are flowing;<br /> +Buds are swelling, birds are singing,<br /> +Odors sweet the wind is bringing;<br /> +Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack!<br /> +Good soft mud and running water,<br /> +Now waddlers shall not lack.<br /></td><td align='left'>Little girls and boys are straying,<br /> +Or in sunny meadows playing,<br /> +Seeking buttercups and clover,<br /> +While their hearts with joy run over;<br /> +But—what goose can't see it plainly?—<br /> +Spring for <i>us</i> is given mainly.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">Quack, quack, &c.</span><br /></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>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> + +<p>The remaining correction made is indicated by a dotted lines under the correction. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, April 1873, Vol. XIII., by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, APRIL 1873 *** + +***** This file should be named 24477-h.htm or 24477-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/4/7/24477/ + +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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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: ASCII + +*** 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 Zooelogical 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 *** + +***** This file should be named 24477.txt or 24477.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/4/7/24477/ + +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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