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+Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, September 1873, Vol. XIV. No. 3, 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, September 1873, Vol. XIV. No. 3
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: March 29, 2008 [EBook #24940]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NURSERY, SEPT. 1873, VOL.XIV NO.3 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net Music
+by Linda Cantoni.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+NURSERY
+
+_A Monthly Magazine_
+
+FOR YOUNGEST READERS.
+
+VOLUME XIV.--No. 3
+
+        BOSTON:
+        JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36, BROMFIELD STREET.
+        1873.
+
+
+
+        Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
+        JOHN L. SHOREY,
+        In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
+
+
+
+
+
+        BOSTON:
+        STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY RAND, AVERY, & CO.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: CONTENTS.]
+
+
+IN PROSE.
+
+                                                     PAGE.
+
+  The Queer Things that happened to Nelly              65
+
+  The Six Ducks                                        69
+
+  The Bunch of Grapes                                  71
+
+  A True Story about a Dog                             73
+
+  Pitcher-Plants and Monkey-Pots                       76
+
+  Under the Cherry-Tree                                77
+
+  Rambles in the Woods                                 80
+
+  What I Saw at the Seashore                           82
+
+  Blossom and I                                        85
+
+  How Norman became an Artist                          87
+
+  A Boot-Race under Difficulties                       89
+
+  Pictures for Walter                                  90
+
+  The Fisherman's Children                             92
+
+
+IN VERSE.
+
+                                                    PAGE.
+
+  Rose's Song                                          68
+
+  A Little Tease                                       75
+
+  Sleeping in the Sunshine                             78
+
+  Young Lazy-Bones (_with music_)                      96
+
+
+[Illustration: THE QUEER THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO NELLY.]
+
+
+
+
+THE QUEER THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO NELLY.
+
+
+[Illustration: N]ELLY BURTON had been weeding in the garden nearly all
+the summer forenoon; and she was quite tired out. "Oh, if I could only
+be dressed up in fine clothes, and not have to work!" thought she.
+
+No sooner had the thought passed through her mind, than, as she looked
+down on the closely-mown grass by the edge of the pond, she saw the
+queerest sight that child ever beheld.
+
+A carriage, the body of which was made of the half of a large
+walnut-shell, brightly gilt, was moving along, dragged by six beetles
+with backs glistening with all the colors of the rainbow.
+
+Seated in the carriage, and carrying a wand, was a young lady not larger
+than a child's little finger, but so beautiful that no humming-bird
+could equal her in beauty. She had the bluest of blue eyes, and yellow
+crinkled hair that shone like gold.
+
+She stopped her team of beetles, and, standing upright, said to Nelly,
+"Listen to me. My name is Pitpat; and I am a fairy. I see how tired you
+are with work. Your father, though a good man, is a blacksmith; and
+there is often a smirch on his face when he stoops to kiss you. Your
+mother wears calico dresses, and doesn't fix her hair with false braids
+and waterfalls. Would you not like to be the daughter of a king and
+queen, and live in a palace?"
+
+"Oh, yes, you beautiful Pitpat! I would like that ever so much!"
+exclaimed Nelly. "Then I should be a princess, and have nothing to do
+but amuse myself all day."
+
+"Take the end of my wand, and touch your eyes with it," said the little
+fairy.
+
+Nelly obeyed; and in a moment, before she could wink, she found herself
+in a beautiful room, with mirrors reaching from the ceiling to the
+floor. By these she saw that she was no longer clad in an old dingy
+dress, nor were her feet bare; but she had on a beautiful skirt of
+light-blue velvet, and a bodice of the most costly lace, trimmed with
+ribbons; while diamonds were in her hair, and a pair of gold slippers on
+her feet.
+
+Servants were in attendance on her, one of whom said, "May it please
+your Highness, his Majesty, your royal father, is coming." Nelly's heart
+fluttered. The door opened, and, preceded by two or three lackeys, a
+pompous old gentleman entered, clad in rich robes, a golden crown on his
+head, and no smirch on his face.
+
+But, dear me, instead of catching her up in his arms, and calling her
+his own precious little Nelly, his Majesty simply gave her his hand to
+kiss, and passed on.
+
+The queen followed in his steps. Her hair was done up in a tower of
+top-knots and waterfalls; and there was drapery enough on the back of
+her dress to astonish an upholsterer. Instead of calling Nelly "her
+darling," as Nelly's first mother used to do, the queen merely said, as
+she swept by, "Where are your manners, child?" for you must know that
+poor Nelly had forgotten to courtesy.
+
+Nelly put her face in her hands, and began to cry. "Oh, you cruel
+Pitpat!" said she, "why did you tempt me? Oh! give me back my own dear
+mother in her calico dress, my own dear father with the smirch on his
+face, my doll Angelica, my black-and-white kitten Dainty, and my own
+dear, dear home beside the lovely pond where the air is so sweet and the
+bushes are so green."
+
+"Take the end of my wand again, and touch your eyes with it," said the
+voice of Pitpat. And there on the carpet, in her little gilded carriage,
+stood the fairy once more with her wand held out. Nelly seized it
+eagerly, and touched her eyes.
+
+"Why, Dainty, what are you about?" said Nelly, as she felt the kitten's
+head against her arm; and then, opening her eyes, she started to find
+herself in the old wood-shed, seated with her back against the door,
+Angelica in her lap, and the soft breeze from the pond fanning her cheek
+and bosom. She looked at her feet. Ah! the golden slippers had
+disappeared. "Dear me! I must have been dreaming," said Nelly.
+
+                                                  IDA FAY.
+
+
+
+
+ROSE'S SONG.
+
+
+            So it's hush-a-by, baby,
+            Hush-a-by now,
+        Mamma's gone to buy something good;
+            And she will not forget
+            Her own darling pet,
+        But will buy her a bonny blue hood:
+        Yes, she'll buy her a bonny blue hood.
+            Oh! she will not forget
+            Her own baby pet,
+        But will buy her a bonny blue hood.
+
+            Then it's crow away, baby,
+            Crow away, sweet,
+        Papa he is coming to-night;
+            And he'll bring home a kiss,
+            Like _this_ and like _this_,
+        For his sweet little Minnie so bright,
+        For his dear little Minnie so bright.
+            Oh! he's many a kiss,
+            Like _this_ and like _this_,
+        For his sweet little Minnie to-night.
+
+                                                  GEO. BENNETT.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE SIX DUCKS.
+
+
+IN the pond near Emily's house six tame ducks used to have a fine time
+swimming about, except in winter, when the pond was frozen. Emily had a
+name for each one of them. They used to run to her when she called; for
+they knew she loved them all, and would treat them well.
+
+Among these six happy ducks there was a white one that was at one time
+of his life a wild duck. Emily named him _Albus_; for _albus_ is Latin
+for _white_. I will tell you how Albus happened to become tamed.
+
+He was once on his way to the South with a large flock of his wild
+companions, when, as they were alighting near a creek, Albus was shot in
+the wing by Dick Barker, a sportsman who was out gunning. Dick ran with
+his dog Spot to pick up the poor wounded bird; but Albus was not so much
+hurt that he could not fly a little.
+
+He flew and flew till he came to Emily's little garden; and then he fell
+at her feet, faint, but not dead, as if pleading for protection. Emily
+took him up in her arms, though she soiled her apron with blood in so
+doing. Dick and Spot came up; and Dick said roughly, "Give me up that
+duck."
+
+"The duck has flown to my feet for protection; and I would be shot
+myself before I would betray him and give him up," said Emily. "I shall
+keep him, and heal his wounds."
+
+Mr. Dick Barker scolded wildly; but it was of no use. He had to go off
+duckless. As for Albus, he soon grew well under Emily's tender care; but
+his wing was not as strong as it used to be: so he concluded he would
+become a tame bird, and not try to fly off again with his wild
+companions. He had a happy home, a kind mistress, and pleasant duck
+acquaintances. So, like a good sensible waddler, he was content.
+
+                                                  EMILY CARTER.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE BUNCH OF GRAPES.
+
+
+"I AM thinking what I shall do with this beautiful bunch of grapes,"
+said Reka Lane as she sat on the bench near the arbor. Her real name was
+Rebecca; but they called her, for shortness, Reka.
+
+"I know what I should do with it," said little Matilda, who had been
+wading in the brook, and was without shoes and stockings. "I should
+divide it among the present company."
+
+"Good for Matty!" exclaimed brother Henry. "The best use you can put
+grapes to is to eat them before they spoil. Come, Reka, divide, divide."
+
+"I am not sure that I shall do that," said Reka.
+
+"Look at that queer dog!" said Matty. "He has crept under the shawl on
+the ground, and looks like a head with no body to it."
+
+"That shawl was left there the other day by old Mrs. Merton," said Reka.
+"The dog is her son's terrier; and his name is Beauty."
+
+"He is any thing but a beauty," said Matty. "I think him the ugliest dog
+I ever saw."
+
+"I suppose they call him Beauty to make up for the bad word he gets from
+every one as being ugly," said Reka. "He is a good dog, nevertheless;
+and he knows that shawl belongs to his mistress.--Don't you, Beauty?"
+
+Here Beauty tore out from under the shawl, and began barking in a very
+intelligent manner.
+
+"Now I will tell you what we will do," said Reka. "Put on your shoes and
+stockings, Matty, and we will all go and call on Mrs. Merton, who is
+ill; and we'll take back her shawl, and give her this beautiful bunch of
+grapes."
+
+"Bow, wow, wow!" cried Beauty, jumping up, and trying to lick Reka's
+face.
+
+When the children left Mrs. Merton's, after they had presented the
+grapes, Henry Lane made this remark, "I'll tell you what it is, girls,
+to see that old lady so pleased by our attention gave me more pleasure
+than a big feast on grapes, ice-creams, and sponge-cake, with lemonade
+thrown in."
+
+                                                  DORA BURNSIDE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A TRUE STORY ABOUT A DOG.
+
+
+I AM a middle-aged gentleman who is blessed with only one child, a
+little girl now nearly six years old. Her name is Fanny; and her cousin
+Gracie, who is about the same age, lives with us.
+
+Both of these little girls are very fond of having me tell them stories;
+and I have often told them about a dog I once had. They liked this story
+so much, that they made me promise I would send it to "The Nursery," so
+that a great many little girls and boys might hear it also. This is the
+story:--
+
+        When I was a little boy, not more than eight
+        years old, my mother consented to my having a
+        dog which a friend offered to give me. He was a
+        little pup then, not more than five weeks old.
+        I fed him on milk for a while, and he grew very
+        fast. I named him Cæsar.
+
+        When he got to be six months old, he became
+        very mischievous. Things were constantly being
+        missed from the house. Handkerchiefs, slippers,
+        shoes, towels, aprons, and napkins disappeared;
+        and no one could tell what became of them. One
+        day Cæsar was seen going into the garden with a
+        slipper in his mouth; and I followed him to a
+        far-off corner where stood a large
+        currant-bush.
+
+        I looked under the bush, and saw Cæsar digging
+        a hole, into which he put the slipper, and then
+        covered it up with earth. Upon digging under
+        this bush, I found all the things that had been
+        missed.
+
+        A neighbor's dog, called "Dr. Wiseman," was
+        Cæsar's particular friend. One day we heard a
+        loud scratching at the front-door; and, when we
+        opened it, in walked Cæsar and Dr. Wiseman.
+        Cæsar took the Doctor by the ear, and led him
+        up to each of the family, just as if he were
+        introducing him, and then led him into the
+        garden, and treated him to a bone.
+
+        Although Cæsar did many naughty things, we all
+        loved him; for he was quite affectionate as
+        well as intelligent: but our neighbors
+        complained of him because he chased their
+        chickens, bit their pigs, and scared their
+        horses. A farmer who came to our house one day
+        with a load of potatoes took a great fancy to
+        him. He wanted him for a watch-dog on his farm,
+        which was only four miles from our house.
+
+        As he promised to treat him kindly, my mother
+        thought it was best to let him have the dog;
+        and I finally consented, although I believe I
+        cried a good deal about it.
+
+        So Cæsar was put into the farmer's wagon, much
+        against his will; and off he went into the
+        country. About three months afterwards, when
+        there was a foot of snow on the ground, there
+        came a great scratching at the front-door of
+        our house, early in the morning, before I was
+        up; and, when the servant opened the door, in
+        bounded Cæsar with a rope around his neck, and
+        a large chunk of wood fastened to the other end
+        of it.
+
+        He ran by the servant, and up the stairs, with
+        the piece of wood going bump, bump, all the
+        way, dashed into my room, jumped right up on my
+        bed, and began licking my face.
+
+        I was very glad to see my dog again. He staid
+        with us several days; and, when the farmer came
+        for him, he lay down on the floor, closed his
+        eyes, and pretended to be dead; but the farmer
+        took him back to the farm in his wagon.
+
+        About a year and a half after that, when I came
+        home for a vacation, we all went up to the
+        farm, hoping to see Cæsar; but we never saw him
+        again. The farmer had shot him, because he
+        killed the chickens, and chased the sheep, and
+        would not mind any thing that was said to him.
+        Thus you see, children, that Cæsar came to a
+        bad end, although he had every advantage of
+        good society in his early youth.
+
+                                                  LANSINGBURGH, N.Y.
+
+C. R. W.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A LITTLE TEASE.
+
+
+        I KNOW a little fellow
+          Who is such a wilful tease,
+        That, when he's not in mischief,
+          He is never at his ease:
+        He dearly loves to frolic,
+          And to play untimely jokes
+        Upon his little sister,
+          And upon the older folks.
+
+        He rings the bell for Sarah,
+          And then slyly runs away;
+        And tries to make a fool of her
+          A dozen times a day:
+        He hides away in corners,
+          To spring suddenly in sight;
+        And laughs, oh! very heartily,
+          To see her jump with fright.
+
+        When kitty's lying quiet,
+          And curled up warm and snug,
+        This little fellow always feels
+          Like giving her a hug;
+        And kitty from his fond embrace
+          Would surely never flinch,
+        Did she not know the little tease
+          Would give her many a pinch.
+
+        But this provoking fellow
+          Has a very curious way
+        Of feeling rather hurt at tricks
+          That other people play,--
+        Just like some older jokers,
+          Who laugh at fun they make,
+        But never can enjoy the fun
+          Of jokes they have to take.
+
+                                                  JOSEPHINE POLLARD.
+
+
+
+
+PITCHER-PLANTS AND MONKEY-POTS.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+PITCHER-PLANTS are so called, because, at the end of the leaves, the
+midrib which runs through them is formed into a cup shape; and in some
+it looks very like a pitcher or water-jug You will understand this
+better if you look at the drawing.
+
+There are various kinds of pitcher-plants. Some are shorter and broader
+than others; but they are all green like true leaves, and hold water as
+securely as a jug or glass. They grow in Borneo and Sumatra, hot islands
+in the East. The one shown in the drawing grows in Ceylon.
+
+Some grow in America; but they are altogether different from those in
+Borneo and Ceylon. One beautiful little pitcher-plant grows in
+Australia: but this is also very different from all the rest; for the
+pitchers, instead of being at the end of the leaves, are clustered round
+the bottom of the plant, close to the ground.
+
+All these pitcher-plants, though very beautiful to look at, are very
+cruel enemies to insects: for the pitchers nearly always have water in
+them; and flies and small insects are constantly falling into them, and
+getting drowned.
+
+Monkey-pots are hard, woody fruits; some as large and round as a
+cannon-ball, and some shaped like a bowl. They grow on large trees in
+Brazil and other parts of South America; and the natives take out the
+seeds, and use the fruits for holding water, or to wash themselves in.
+
+They are called monkey-pots because monkeys are very fond of the seeds.
+Some of the seeds are so good, that they are collected, and sent to
+London and other places, where they are sold in the markets. The
+Brazil-nut is one of them.
+
+                                                  J. R. J.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+UNDER THE CHERRY-TREE.
+
+
+"NOW is the time to pick the cherries!" shouted Charles as he came
+running in from the garden one July afternoon.
+
+"Are they quite ripe?" said his mother.
+
+"Ripe? I should think so. Just look at them!" answered Charles, pointing
+to the trees.
+
+"O mamma!" said Mary, "the birds are getting them all. We must have them
+picked at once."
+
+"Never fear, little girl," said her mother. "There will be enough for
+the birds and ourselves and our neighbors too. But it really is time to
+begin to pick them. So, Charles, get a basket, and we will all go out
+under the cherry-tree."
+
+So out they all went,--Charles and Mary and Ellen and Julia and Ruth;
+and mamma followed with the baby.
+
+"I told the gardener to bring a ladder," said mamma. "He will be here in
+a moment, Charles. You can't pick cherries without a ladder, you know."
+
+"Of course," said that saucy boy. "Nobody can pick cherries without a
+ladder." And with that he gave a spring, and in about half a minute had
+climbed up into the tree.
+
+"Now, girls, hold your aprons," said he. And down came a shower of the
+delicious fruit.
+
+Then what a glorious scramble those little girls had! How they laughed
+and jumped and knocked heads together in picking up the cherries! They
+ate as many as they wanted; and still Charles kept throwing down more.
+
+"Have you had enough?" said he. "So have I. Now it's time to think about
+filling the basket. Ah! here comes the ladder at last, with a man under
+it."
+
+                                                  UNCLE SAM.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+SLEEPING IN THE SUNSHINE.
+
+
+        SLEEPING in the sunshine,
+            Fie, fie, fie!
+        While the birds are soaring
+            High, high, high!
+        While the buds are opening sweet,
+        And the blossoms at your feet
+        Look a smiling face to greet.
+            Fie, fie, fie!
+
+        Sleeping in the sunshine,
+            Fie, fie, fie!
+        While the bee goes humming
+            By, by, by!
+        Is there no small task for you,--
+        Nought for little hands to do?
+        Shame to sleep the morning through!
+            Fie, fie, fie!
+
+
+
+
+RAMBLES IN THE WOODS.
+
+
+RACHEL has been used to a life in the city, but she is now on a visit to
+her uncle's in the country; and she has fine times rambling through the
+woods and fields.
+
+Her cousin Paul takes her to pick berries, and tells her the names of
+the things she sees. "Smell of these leaves," Paul will say, breaking a
+twig from a shrub, somewhat like a huckleberry-bush, and crushing the
+leaves in his hand. "This is the bayberry-shrub. How fragrant the leaves
+are! It bears a berry with a gray wax-like coating; and in Nova Scotia
+this wax is much used instead of tallow, or mixed with tallow, to make
+candles."
+
+"But what is this little red berry on the ground?" asked Rachel once
+when they were on one of their rambles. "It has a dark glossy leaf; and
+I like the taste and the smell of it very much."
+
+"That is the checkerberry," said Paul. "Some people call it the
+boxberry; and some call it wintergreen. It has a flavor like that of the
+black birch. It is used to scent soap, and sometimes to flavor candy. It
+is an evergreen plant."
+
+"What do you mean by an evergreen?" asked Rachel.
+
+"I mean, it is green the whole year round: it does not dry up and fall
+off, like the leaves of the strawberry-plant," said Paul.
+
+"What other sweet-smelling plants are there about here?" asked Rachel.
+
+"Did you ever taste the bark of the sassafras-tree?" asked Paul. "If
+not, here is one; and I will break off a twig for you to chew. The color
+of the inner bark, near the root, is red, like cinnamon. A beer is made
+from it; and it is also used in soaps."
+
+[Illustration: RAMBLES IN THE WOODS.]
+
+"I like the odor of it very much," said Rachel.
+
+"Here is a black-birch tree," cried Paul. "Some people call it the
+sweet-birch. I will cut off a piece of the bark for you to taste."
+
+"Why, it tastes like checkerberry-leaves," said Rachel.
+
+"Yes," replied Paul. "It is a beautiful tree, and is good for fuel. But
+here is a white-birch. See how white the bark is! It grows on poor land,
+and is a very pretty tree when well taken care of."
+
+Here there was the sound of a horn; and Rachel asked, "What is the
+meaning of that sound?"
+
+"It means that we must run home to dinner," said Paul. "So give me your
+hand, Cousin Rachel. You need not be afraid of snakes. There are none
+here that can do any harm. Come, we will make a short cut through the
+grove to the house."
+
+                                                  UNCLE CHARLES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHAT I SAW AT THE SEASHORE.
+
+
+LAST summer I went to spend a few weeks at a quiet little island on the
+New-England coast. Every morning I used to go to the beach, and sit on
+the sands, and watch the blue sea with its sparkling waves, and listen
+to the surf breaking in white foam all along the shore.
+
+On pleasant days the beach was lively with bathers, shouting and
+laughing as they plunged into the cool waves; and little boys and girls
+playing in the clean sand, digging with their shovels, and loading and
+unloading their wagons, or picking up shells and sea-mosses to carry
+home.
+
+On the brightest days of all, I noticed a pale-faced lady who came to
+sit a while in the sunshine, propped up with shawls and pillows. She
+always brought with her a little sky-terrier, of which she seemed as
+fond as if it had been a real baby.
+
+After a while, I got acquainted with the invalid lady, and found that
+her name was Miss Dean, and that her dog was named Skye. He was a
+shaggy-looking little creature; but he had very bright eyes, and he knew
+almost as much as the children who played with him. He was very fond of
+his mistress, and very thoughtful of her comfort.
+
+Let me tell you one thing about him that made me think so. Skye slept in
+the room with his mistress, on a soft cushion, with a little blanket
+spread over him; and in the morning, when he woke, if she was still
+asleep, he never disturbed her. He just sat up on his cushion as still
+as he could be, and watched her till she woke. As soon as she opened her
+eyes, he gave a little bark, for "good-morning," and sprang up on her
+bed, to be loved and petted.
+
+Well, Skye was a good little dog; and we all learned to love him; and
+none of us would have hurt him for the world. But one day, as we were
+walking up from the beach, ladies and gentlemen and children and all,
+Skye ran down a lane, out of sight; and a thoughtless, wicked boy, who
+had a stone in his hand, and wanted to hit something with it, threw it
+with all his might at poor Skye, and broke one of his legs.
+
+Skye cried out with the pain; and we all hurried back to see what was
+the matter. There we found him, whining and howling, and trying to limp
+along on three legs; and we just caught sight of the bad boy, running
+away far down the lane. Miss Dean picked up her poor little darling,
+and carried him home.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Now, it happened that there was a very skilful surgeon staying at the
+hotel, who had come down to the island for a short vacation. Miss Dean
+sent for him, and begged him to set poor Skye's broken leg. He was a
+kind-hearted man, and I could not refuse to use his skill to relieve the
+dumb little sufferer.
+
+So Miss Dean took Skye on her lap, and stroked him gently, and talked
+lovingly to him, calling him "Poor doggy!" and "Dear Skye," while the
+doctor made the splints, and pressed the broken bones back into their
+place. Then the doctor sent for some plaster of Paris, and made a soft
+mortar of it, and put it all around the mended leg, and let it harden
+into a little case, so that the bones would have to stay just as he put
+them till they grew together again.
+
+All the time the doctor was doing this, Skye kept as still as a mouse;
+but, when it was all done, the little creature laid his head on Miss
+Dean's shoulder, and cried great tears, just like a child. Miss Dean had
+to cry, too, at the helplessness of her poor dumb darling.
+
+For a good many weeks, Skye could only hobble about on three legs, and
+had to keep still on his cushion, or lie on his mistress' lap, most of
+the time; but he was very patient. And at last, when the good doctor
+said it would do to remove the plaster and the splints, we did so; and
+Skye ran around the room as well and lively as ever. Wasn't he glad to
+have his liberty again!
+
+                                                  MUZ-MUZ.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+BLOSSOM AND I.
+
+
+I WILL tell you a true story about my sister and me. I am five years
+old, and Fanny (papa calls her Blossom) is three.
+
+We are in Germany now, but our home is in America; and, when I go out to
+play with the boys here, they call me "America." We came over the ocean
+in a big ship. Papa and mamma were seasick; but Fanny and I were not,
+and we liked to live on the water.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+When mamma packed our trunks, I wanted her to put in my little pails and
+wheelbarrow; and she said there wasn't room, but that we could bring as
+many numbers of "The Nursery" as we pleased. So we brought all we had.
+
+We have used them so much, that papa says they are not fit to be bound;
+but I don't want to put them away on a shelf to be kept nice. I like to
+have them every day; and so does Fanny.
+
+When we were coming on the steamer, Fanny used to sit in the captain's
+lap, and tell him the stories.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Our auntie sends us a new "Nursery" every month. One was lost, and we
+were very sorry; for we can't read other picture-books so well. Fanny
+always has a "Nursery" to take to bed with her; and in the morning, when
+I wake up, I hear her talking to the boys and girls in the pictures.
+
+                                                  C.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HOW NORMAN BECAME AN ARTIST.
+
+
+THE landscape-painter sat on a camp-stool with an umbrella over his
+head. His palette and his box of paints were on the ground by his side.
+He was there to draw a picture of the village of F----.
+
+Hardly had he begun his crayon outline when he heard a boy's voice
+behind him. "May I look on? sir?" said the boy. "Yes, look as much as
+you please, but don't talk," said the painter without turning his head.
+
+The boy had a basket strapped to his back, and stood looking intently,
+with both hands resting on his knees. His name was Norman Blake. Other
+boys, and a young woman, soon came up, and joined him as spectators.
+
+Norman studied every movement of the painter's hand; and, when he got
+home, he took a piece of charcoal, and tried to draw a picture on the
+wall. Rather a rough picture it was, but pretty good for a first
+attempt.
+
+The next day Norman went again, and looked on while the painter
+sketched. "You've got that line wrong," cried Norman all at once,
+forgetting that the painter had told him not to talk.
+
+"What do you know about it, you young vagabond?" cried the painter
+angrily. "Out of this! Run, scamper, and don't show your rogue's face
+here again! But stop. Before you go, come here, and point out what
+struck you as wrong."
+
+Norman pointed to a certain line which made the village church seem a
+little out of its right place in the picture. The landscape-painter
+seized him by the ear, and said, "You little scamp, how did you find
+that out? You are right, sir! But what business have you to criticise my
+picture? I am hesitating whether to thrash you, or to make a painter of
+you."
+
+"Make a painter of me, by all means;" said Norman, laughing; for he saw
+that the honest painter was only half in earnest.
+
+Well, the end of it was, that Norman accompanied the painter to the
+city, and began to study drawing and painting. He succeeded so well,
+that, after he had been studying six years, he one day brought to his
+friend the painter the sketch which we have had copied above.
+
+"Do you remember that?" asked Norman.
+
+"Of course I do!" said the painter. "It represents our first meeting.
+Little did I think that the young vagabond with the basket on his back
+would one day beat me in sketching."
+
+                                                  ALFRED SELWYN.
+
+[Illustration: HURRAH! GREAT BOOT-RACE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.]
+
+[Illustration: "NOW, WHEN SHE COMES OUT, I SHALL BE SURE OF HER!"]
+
+
+
+
+PICTURES FOR WALTER.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+HERE are some birds having a ride on the weather-vane. The vane is on
+the top of the barn.
+
+I should think it would make the birds dizzy to swing backwards and
+forwards. But they like it just as well as some boys like to swing on a
+gate.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Here is an old crow sitting on the fence. He is a sly old thief. There
+is a nest in the grass; and he is after the eggs. If you try to get near
+him, he will fly away, saying "Caw, caw, caw!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The milk-maid set down her pail of milk, and went to the orchard. A
+little pig came along, and tipped the pail over; and the milk was all
+spilled. Never leave milk where a pig can get at it.
+
+A woodpecker had a nest in a hollow tree. A boy climbed up to get the
+eggs; but the old birds flew at him, and pecked him, and made him get
+down. I am glad they drove him away. What right had he to meddle with
+their nest?
+
+                                                  W. O. C.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE FISHERMEN'S CHILDREN.
+
+
+THERE were three children on the beach looking out to see the boats of
+the fishermen sail off to the fishing-grounds. Little Joe Bourne and his
+sister Susan stood side by side, watching their father's boat. Rachel,
+who was with them, was not their sister, but an orphan-child, whose
+grandfather, Mr. Harrison, was in one of the boats.
+
+It was a windy day in November. The waves broke with a great noise on
+the shingly beach. Soon the wind rose higher: the sea rose too, and the
+rain fell fast. The children walked back to the village; and there the
+old men said, shaking their heads, "We shall have a storm."
+
+That night, all the boats came safely back into the harbor, excepting
+the boat in which Rachel's grandfather had sailed. It was a long, sad
+night for poor Rachel. The next day and the next passed by; and no
+grandfather came back to take care of her, and find her in food and
+clothes, and carry her in his strong arms when she was tired out with
+walking.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Susan and Joe in their own house felt sad for the little orphan. One day
+their mother went to market. Baby was in the cradle, and Susan was
+rocking it, whilst Joe was cutting out a boat with an old jack-knife.
+The kettle on the stove began to sing; and Susan and Joe began to talk.
+
+"Poor Rachel will have to be sent to the workhouse now," said Joe.
+
+"I hope not," said Susan. "I hope father will give her a home in our own
+house."
+
+"Why, he says he can hardly earn enough to feed his own family," said
+Joe.
+
+"But can't we do something to help him?" asked Susan.
+
+"I know of nothing children like us can do," said Joe.
+
+When their mother came home, Susan begged so earnestly to have Rachel
+come and stay with them, that Mrs. Bourne at last replied, "Well, we
+will take her in for a week or two, and see; but mind, Susan, you must
+try and earn a little money somehow. You will now have less time to play
+on the sands, remember."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+So Susan went and found Rachel, and brought her home to live with them
+all. The poor little orphan was a bright, joyous child. She had a
+strange hope that she should see her grandfather again; that he was not
+lost; for he had told her many stories of his escape from great dangers
+at sea.
+
+"Why, grandfather was on a wreck once a whole week," said Rachel: "he
+was cast away once on an island where he had to live on clams a long
+while before he was rescued. I think we shall hear from him soon."
+
+One day Joe caught a fine basket of perch from the rocks, and went round
+to try and sell them. But all the folks in the village told him they
+could get as many fish as they wanted without buying them. So Joe walked
+off to a town four miles away from the sea, and there he sold his fish.
+
+He told a kind blind lady, to whom he sold some, that his sister wanted
+to get work, so that she could help a poor little orphan-girl. The kind
+lady sent Susan half a dozen handkerchiefs to hem; and the next morning
+Susan rose early, and sewed by candle-light, while the other children
+were in bed and asleep.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+For three years the poor Bourne family gave Rachel a nice happy home in
+their little house; and they would have kept her longer, but one day,
+while the children were all playing on the beach, they heard a great
+shouting, and ran to see what it was about.
+
+It was all in honor of Grandfather Harrison. He had come back, as Rachel
+had always said he would. He had been picked up at sea in his sinking
+boat by a ship bound for Australia. The old man was carried to that far
+country. He went to the mines, and helped some men dig gold. He made a
+good deal of money, thinking it would be a good thing if he could only
+be rich enough to send his dear little grand-daughter to school.
+
+But Rachel was not the only one who was benefited by his good fortune.
+The Bournes shared in it. Joe and Susan, and all the rest of the
+children, were sent to school also; and they studied with a will. It was
+always a happy thought to Rachel that the great kindness of these good
+people did not miss its reward even in this life.
+
+                                                  IDA FAY.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+YOUNG LAZYBONES.
+
+Music by T. CRAMPTON.
+
+[Illustration: Music]
+
+_Cheerfully. mf_
+
+        1. Young Lazybones is smooth and sleek,
+          Young Lazybones is fat;
+        His eye sits drowsing in his cheek,
+          And many a day has sat,
+        Young Lazybones he keeps his state
+          All in his easy chair,
+        And tho' the time is getting late,
+          He does not seem to care.
+
+        2. Then little Maggie sings to him,
+          And plays upon the harp;
+        While rapid Robert, keen and slim,
+          Cries, "Lazybones, look sharp!"
+        And Lucy tickles with her wand,
+          This sleepy, lazy boy;
+        And one and all with tricks and jokes
+          In teasing him take joy.
+
+        3. But Lazybones must take his nap
+          Before he goes to bed:
+        He does not move his weary limbs
+          Or lift his heavy head.
+        And though a dozen brewers' drays
+          Should rumble o'er the stones,
+        Not all the noise that they can make
+          Would rouse Young Lazybones.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+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
+July issue with the "No." added. The original table of contents covered
+the second half of 1873. The remaining text of the table of contents can
+be found in the rest of the year's issues.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nursery, September 1873, Vol. XIV.
+No. 3, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NURSERY, SEPT. 1873, VOL.XIV NO.3 ***
+
+***** This file should be named 24940-8.txt or 24940-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, September 1873, Vol. XIV. No. 3, 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, September 1873, Vol. XIV. No. 3
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: March 29, 2008 [EBook #24940]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NURSERY, SEPT. 1873, VOL.XIV NO.3 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net Music
+by Linda Cantoni.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</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 XIV.&mdash;No. 3<br />
+
+<br /><br />
+BOSTON:<br />
+JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36, BROMFIELD STREET.<br />
+1873.<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='center'>
+<small>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by</small><br />
+<small> JOHN L. SHOREY,</small><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></span><br />
+<small><span class="smcap">Stereotyped and Printed by Rand, Avery, &amp; Co.</span></small><br />
+</div>
+<div><br /><br /></div><div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"><img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div><div><br /><br /></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/contents.png" width="400" height="208" alt="Contents" title="Contents" />
+</div>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>IN PROSE.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'><small>PAGE.</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Queer Things that happened to Nelly</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Six Ducks</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Bunch of Grapes</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A True Story about a Dog</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Pitcher-Plants and Monkey-Pots</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Under the Cherry-Tree</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Rambles in the Woods</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>What I Saw at the Seashore</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Blossom and I</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>How Norman became an Artist</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Boot-Race under Difficulties</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Pictures for Walter</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Fisherman's Children</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />IN VERSE.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><small>PAGE.</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Rose's Song</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Little Tease</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Sleeping in the Sunshine</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Young Lazy-Bones (<i>with music</i>)</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/illus004.png" width="200" height="105" alt="Decoration" title="Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 281px;">
+<img src="images/illus065.jpg" width="281" height="400" alt="THE QUEER THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO NELLY." title="THE QUEER THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO NELLY." />
+<span class="caption">THE QUEER THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO NELLY.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE QUEER THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO NELLY.</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 136px;">
+<img src="images/n.png" width="136" height="150" alt="N" title="N" />
+</div><div class='unindent'><br />ELLY BURTON had been weeding in the garden
+nearly all the summer forenoon; and she
+was quite tired out. "Oh, if I could only be
+dressed up in fine clothes, and not have to
+work!" thought she.</div>
+
+<p>No sooner had the thought passed through her mind, than,
+as she looked down on the closely-mown grass by the edge
+of the pond, she saw the queerest sight that child ever
+beheld.</p>
+
+<p>A carriage, the body of which was made of the half of a
+large walnut-shell, brightly gilt, was moving along, dragged
+by six beetles with backs glistening with all the colors of
+the rainbow.</p>
+
+<p>Seated in the carriage, and carrying a wand, was a young
+lady not larger than a child's little finger, but so beautiful
+that no humming-bird could equal her in beauty. She had
+the bluest of blue eyes, and yellow crinkled hair that shone
+like gold.</p>
+
+<p>She stopped her team of beetles, and, standing upright,
+said to Nelly, "Listen to me. My name is Pitpat; and I am
+a fairy. I see how tired you are with work. Your father,
+though a good man, is a blacksmith; and there is often a
+smirch on his face when he stoops to kiss you. Your mother
+wears calico dresses, and doesn't fix her hair with false
+braids and waterfalls. Would you not like to be the daughter
+of a king and queen, and live in a palace?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, you beautiful Pitpat! I would like that ever so
+much!" exclaimed Nelly. "Then I should be a princess,
+and have nothing to do but amuse myself all day."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Take the end of my wand, and touch your eyes with it,"
+said the little fairy.</p>
+
+<p>Nelly obeyed; and in a moment, before she could wink,
+she found herself in a beautiful room, with mirrors reaching
+from the ceiling to the floor. By these she saw that she
+was no longer clad in an old dingy dress, nor were her feet
+bare; but she had on a beautiful skirt of light-blue velvet,
+and a bodice of the most costly lace, trimmed with ribbons;
+while diamonds were in her hair, and a pair of gold slippers
+on her feet.</p>
+
+<p>Servants were in attendance on her, one of whom said,
+"May it please your Highness, his Majesty, your royal
+father, is coming." Nelly's heart fluttered. The door opened,
+and, preceded by two or three lackeys, a pompous old gentleman
+entered, clad in rich robes, a golden crown on his
+head, and no smirch on his face.</p>
+
+<p>But, dear me, instead of catching her up in his arms, and
+calling her his own precious little Nelly, his Majesty simply
+gave her his hand to kiss, and passed on.</p>
+
+<p>The queen followed in his steps. Her hair was done up
+in a tower of top-knots and waterfalls; and there was drapery
+enough on the back of her dress to astonish an upholsterer.
+Instead of calling Nelly "her darling," as Nelly's first
+mother used to do, the queen merely said, as she swept by,
+"Where are your manners, child?" for you must know
+that poor Nelly had forgotten to courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>Nelly put her face in her hands, and began to cry. "Oh,
+you cruel Pitpat!" said she, "why did you tempt me? Oh!
+give me back my own dear mother in her calico dress, my
+own dear father with the smirch on his face, my doll Angelica,
+my black-and-white kitten Dainty, and my own dear,
+dear home beside the lovely pond where the air is so sweet
+and the bushes are so green."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Take the end of my wand again, and touch your eyes
+with it," said the voice of Pitpat. And there on the carpet,
+in her little gilded carriage, stood the fairy once more with
+her wand held out. Nelly seized it eagerly, and touched
+her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Dainty, what are you about?" said Nelly, as she
+felt the kitten's head against her arm; and then, opening
+her eyes, she started to find herself in the old wood-shed,
+seated with her back against the door, Angelica in her lap,
+and the soft breeze from the pond fanning her cheek and
+bosom. She looked at her feet. Ah! the golden slippers
+had disappeared. "Dear me! I must have been dreaming,"
+said Nelly.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Ida Fay.</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>ROSE'S SONG.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">So it's hush-a-by, baby,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hush-a-by now,</span><br />
+Mamma's gone to buy something good;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And she will not forget</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Her own darling pet,</span><br />
+But will buy her a bonny blue hood:<br />
+Yes, she'll buy her a bonny blue hood.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh! she will not forget</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Her own baby pet,</span><br />
+But will buy her a bonny blue hood.<br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Then it's crow away, baby,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Crow away, sweet,</span><br />
+Papa he is coming to-night;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And he'll bring home a kiss,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Like <i>this</i> and like <i>this</i>,</span><br />
+For his sweet little Minnie so bright,<br />
+For his dear little Minnie so bright.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh! he's many a kiss,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Like <i>this</i> and like <i>this</i>,</span><br />
+For his sweet little Minnie to-night.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Geo. Bennett.</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_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
+</p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/illus069.png" width="350" height="348" alt="Six Ducks" title="Six Ducks" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE SIX DUCKS.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the pond near Emily's house six tame ducks used to
+have a fine time swimming about, except in winter, when
+the pond was frozen. Emily had a name for each one of
+them. They used to run to her when she called; for they
+knew she loved them all, and would treat them well.</p>
+
+<p>Among these six happy ducks there was a white one
+that was at one time of his life a wild duck. Emily named
+him <i>Albus</i>; for <i>albus</i> is Latin for <i>white</i>. I will tell you how
+Albus happened to become tamed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He was once on his way to the South with a large flock
+of his wild companions, when, as they were alighting near
+a creek, Albus was shot in the wing by Dick Barker, a
+sportsman who was out gunning. Dick ran with his dog
+Spot to pick up the poor wounded bird; but Albus was not
+so much hurt that he could not fly a little.</p>
+
+<p>He flew and flew till he came to Emily's little garden;
+and then he fell at her feet, faint, but not dead, as if pleading
+for protection. Emily took him up in her arms, though
+she soiled her apron with blood in so doing. Dick and Spot
+came up; and Dick said roughly, "Give me up that duck."</p>
+
+<p>"The duck has flown to my feet for protection; and I
+would be shot myself before I would betray him and give
+him up," said Emily. "I shall keep him, and heal his
+wounds."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dick Barker scolded wildly; but it was of no use.
+He had to go off duckless. As for Albus, he soon grew well
+under Emily's tender care; but his wing was not as strong
+as it used to be: so he concluded he would become a tame
+bird, and not try to fly off again with his wild companions.
+He had a happy home, a kind mistress, and pleasant duck
+acquaintances. So, like a good sensible waddler, he was
+content.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Emily Carter.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/illus070.png" width="200" height="128" alt="Decoration" title="Decoration" />
+</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_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus071.png" width="300" height="269" alt="The Bunch of Grapes" title="The Bunch of Grapes" />
+</div>
+<h2>THE BUNCH OF GRAPES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">I am</span> thinking what I shall do with this beautiful bunch
+of grapes," said Reka Lane as she sat on the bench near
+the arbor. Her real name was Rebecca; but they called
+her, for shortness, Reka.</p>
+
+<p>"I know what I should do with it," said little Matilda,
+who had been wading in the brook, and was without shoes
+and stockings. "I should divide it among the present company."</p>
+
+<p>"Good for Matty!" exclaimed brother Henry. "The
+best use you can put grapes to is to eat them before they
+spoil. Come, Reka, divide, divide."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not sure that I shall do that," said Reka.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Look at that queer dog!" said Matty. "He has crept
+under the shawl on the ground, and looks like a head with
+no body to it."</p>
+
+<p>"That shawl was left there the other day by old Mrs.
+Merton," said Reka. "The dog is her son's terrier; and his
+name is Beauty."</p>
+
+<p>"He is any thing but a beauty," said Matty. "I think
+him the ugliest dog I ever saw."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose they call him Beauty to make up for the bad
+word he gets from every one as being ugly," said Reka.
+"He is a good dog, nevertheless; and he knows that shawl
+belongs to his mistress.&mdash;Don't you, Beauty?"</p>
+
+<p>Here Beauty tore out from under the shawl, and began
+barking in a very intelligent manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I will tell you what we will do," said Reka. "Put
+on your shoes and stockings, Matty, and we will all go and
+call on Mrs. Merton, who is ill; and we'll take back her
+shawl, and give her this beautiful bunch of grapes."</p>
+
+<p>"Bow, wow, wow!" cried Beauty, jumping up, and trying
+to lick Reka's face.</p>
+
+<p>When the children left Mrs. Merton's, after they had presented
+the grapes, Henry Lane made this remark, "I'll
+tell you what it is, girls, to see that old lady so pleased
+by our attention gave me more pleasure than a big feast on
+grapes, ice-creams, and sponge-cake, with lemonade thrown
+in."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Dora Burnside.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 164px;">
+<img src="images/illus072.png" width="164" height="200" alt="Grapes" title="Grapes" />
+</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_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 272px;">
+<img src="images/illus073.png" width="272" height="300" alt="A true story about a dog" title="A true story about a dog" />
+</div>
+<h2>A TRUE STORY ABOUT A DOG.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I am</span> a middle-aged gentleman who is blessed with only
+one child, a little girl now nearly six years old. Her name
+is Fanny; and her cousin Gracie, who is about the same
+age, lives with us.</p>
+
+<p>Both of these little girls are very fond of having me tell
+them stories; and I have often told them about a dog I once
+had. They liked this story so much, that they made me
+promise I would send it to "The Nursery," so that a great
+many little girls and boys might hear it also. This is the
+story:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>When I was a little boy, not more than eight years old, my mother consented
+to my having a dog which a friend offered to give me. He was a
+little pup then, not more than five weeks old. I fed him on milk for
+a while, and he grew very fast. I named him C&aelig;sar.</p>
+
+<p>When he got to be six months old, he became very mischievous. Things
+were constantly being missed from the house. Handkerchiefs, slippers,
+shoes, towels, aprons, and napkins disappeared; and no one could tell what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+became of them. One day C&aelig;sar was seen going into the garden with a
+slipper in his mouth; and I followed him to a far-off corner where stood
+a large currant-bush.</p>
+
+<p>I looked under the bush, and saw C&aelig;sar digging a hole, into which he
+put the slipper, and then covered it up with earth. Upon digging under
+this bush, I found all the things that had been missed.</p>
+
+<p>A neighbor's dog, called "Dr. Wiseman," was C&aelig;sar's particular
+friend. One day we heard a loud scratching at the front-door; and, when
+we opened it, in walked C&aelig;sar and Dr. Wiseman. C&aelig;sar took the
+Doctor by the ear, and led him up to each of the family, just as if he were
+introducing him, and then led him into the garden, and treated him to a
+bone.</p>
+
+<p>Although C&aelig;sar did many naughty things, we all loved him; for he
+was quite affectionate as well as intelligent: but our neighbors complained
+of him because he chased their chickens, bit their pigs, and scared their
+horses. A farmer who came to our house one day with a load of potatoes
+took a great fancy to him. He wanted him for a watch-dog on his farm,
+which was only four miles from our house.</p>
+
+<p>As he promised to treat him kindly, my mother thought it was best to
+let him have the dog; and I finally consented, although I believe I cried
+a good deal about it.</p>
+
+<p>So C&aelig;sar was put into the farmer's wagon, much against his will; and
+off he went into the country. About three months afterwards, when there
+was a foot of snow on the ground, there came a great scratching at the front-door
+of our house, early in the morning, before I was up; and, when the
+servant opened the door, in bounded C&aelig;sar with a rope around his neck,
+and a large chunk of wood fastened to the other end of it.</p>
+
+<p>He ran by the servant, and up the stairs, with the piece of wood going
+bump, bump, all the way, dashed into my room, jumped right up on my
+bed, and began licking my face.</p>
+
+<p>I was very glad to see my dog again. He staid with us several days;
+and, when the farmer came for him, he lay down on the floor, closed his
+eyes, and pretended to be dead; but the farmer took him back to the farm
+in his wagon.</p>
+
+<p>About a year and a half after that, when I came home for a vacation, we
+all went up to the farm, hoping to see C&aelig;sar; but we never saw him again.
+The farmer had shot him, because he killed the chickens, and chased the
+sheep, and would not mind any thing that was said to him. Thus you
+see, children, that C&aelig;sar came to a bad end, although he had every
+advantage of good society in his early youth.</p></div>
+
+<div class='center'><span class="smcap">Lansingburgh, N.Y.</span>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+<span class="smcap">C. R. W.</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_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus075.png" width="300" height="225" alt="A Little Tease" title="A Little Tease" />
+</div>
+
+<h2>A LITTLE TEASE.</h2>
+
+
+<div class='poem'><span class="smcap">I know</span> a little fellow<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who is such a wilful tease,</span><br />
+That, when he's not in mischief,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He is never at his ease:</span><br />
+He dearly loves to frolic,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And to play untimely jokes</span><br />
+Upon his little sister,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And upon the older folks.</span><br />
+<br />
+He rings the bell for Sarah,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And then slyly runs away;</span><br />
+And tries to make a fool of her<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A dozen times a day:</span><br />
+He hides away in corners,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To spring suddenly in sight;</span><br />
+And laughs, oh! very heartily,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To see her jump with fright.</span><br />
+<br />
+When kitty's lying quiet,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And curled up warm and snug,</span><br />
+This little fellow always feels<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like giving her a hug;</span><br />
+And kitty from his fond embrace<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would surely never flinch,</span><br />
+Did she not know the little tease<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would give her many a pinch.</span><br />
+<br />
+But this provoking fellow<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has a very curious way</span><br />
+Of feeling rather hurt at tricks<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That other people play,&mdash;</span><br />
+Just like some older jokers,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who laugh at fun they make,</span><br />
+But never can enjoy the fun<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of jokes they have to take.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Josephine Pollard</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_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PITCHER-PLANTS AND MONKEY-POTS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 205px;">
+<img src="images/illus076.png" width="205" height="250" alt="Pitcher-Plant" title="Pitcher-Plant" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Pitcher-plants</span> are so called, because, at
+the end of the leaves, the midrib which runs
+through them is formed into a cup shape; and
+in some it looks very like a pitcher or water-jug
+You will understand this better if you
+look at the drawing.</p>
+
+<p>There are various kinds of pitcher-plants. Some are
+shorter and broader than others; but they are all green like
+true leaves, and hold water as securely as a jug or glass.
+They grow in Borneo and Sumatra, hot islands in the East.
+The one shown in the drawing grows in Ceylon.</p>
+
+<p>Some grow in America; but they are altogether different
+from those in Borneo and Ceylon. One beautiful little
+pitcher-plant grows in Australia: but this is also very different
+from all the rest; for the pitchers, instead of being at
+the end of the leaves, are clustered round the bottom of the
+plant, close to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>All these pitcher-plants, though very beautiful to look at,
+are very cruel enemies to insects: for the pitchers nearly
+always have water in them; and flies and small insects are
+constantly falling into them, and getting drowned.</p>
+
+<p>Monkey-pots are hard, woody fruits; some as large and
+round as a cannon-ball, and some shaped like a bowl. They
+grow on large trees in Brazil and other parts of South
+America; and the natives take out the seeds, and use the
+fruits for holding water, or to wash themselves in.</p>
+
+<p>They are called monkey-pots because monkeys are very
+fond of the seeds. Some of the seeds are so good, that they
+are collected, and sent to London and other places, where
+they are sold in the markets. The Brazil-nut is one of
+them.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+J. R. J.<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_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus077.png" width="300" height="300" alt="Under the Cherry Tree" title="Under the Cherry Tree" />
+</div>
+<h2>UNDER THE CHERRY-TREE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Now</span> is the time to pick the cherries!" shouted Charles
+as he came running in from the garden one July afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>"Are they quite ripe?" said his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Ripe? I should think so. Just look at them!" answered
+Charles, pointing to the trees.</p>
+
+<p>"O mamma!" said Mary, "the birds are getting them
+all. We must have them picked at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Never fear, little girl," said her mother. "There will
+be enough for the birds and ourselves and our neighbors
+too. But it really is time to begin to pick them. So,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+Charles, get a basket, and we will all go out under the
+cherry-tree."</p>
+
+<p>So out they all went,&mdash;Charles and Mary and Ellen
+and Julia and Ruth; and mamma followed with the baby.</p>
+
+<p>"I told the gardener to bring a ladder," said mamma.
+"He will be here in a moment, Charles. You can't pick
+cherries without a ladder, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said that saucy boy. "Nobody can pick
+cherries without a ladder." And with that he gave a spring,
+and in about half a minute had climbed up into the tree.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, girls, hold your aprons," said he. And down came
+a shower of the delicious fruit.</p>
+
+<p>Then what a glorious scramble those little girls had!
+How they laughed and jumped and knocked heads together
+in picking up the cherries! They ate as many as they
+wanted; and still Charles kept throwing down more.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you had enough?" said he. "So have I. Now
+it's time to think about filling the basket. Ah! here comes
+the ladder at last, with a man under it."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Uncle Sam.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 184px;">
+<img src="images/illus078.png" width="184" height="250" alt="Man with a ladder" title="Man with a ladder" />
+</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_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class='center'> <table class="sleep" summary="Sleeping in the Sunshine">
+<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<div><span style="margin-left: 4em;"><b><big>SLEEPING IN THE SUNSHINE.</big></b></span><br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;"><span class="smcap">Sleeping</span> in the sunshine,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Fie, fie, fie!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">While the birds are soaring</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">High, high, high!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">While the buds are opening sweet,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">And the blossoms at your feet</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Look a smiling face to greet.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Fie, fie, fie!</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Sleeping in the sunshine,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Fie, fie, fie!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">While the bee goes humming</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">By, by, by!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Is there no small task for you,&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Nought for little hands to do?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Shame to sleep the morning through!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 8em;">Fie, fie, fie!</span><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><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>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p>
+<h2>RAMBLES IN THE WOODS.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Rachel</span> has been used to a life in the city, but she is
+now on a visit to her uncle's in the country; and she has
+fine times rambling through the woods and fields.</p>
+
+<p>Her cousin Paul takes her to pick berries, and tells her
+the names of the things she sees. "Smell of these leaves,"
+Paul will say, breaking a twig from a shrub, somewhat like
+a huckleberry-bush, and crushing the leaves in his hand.
+"This is the bayberry-shrub. How fragrant the leaves are!
+It bears a berry with a gray wax-like coating; and in Nova
+Scotia this wax is much used instead of tallow, or mixed
+with tallow, to make candles."</p>
+
+<p>"But what is this little red berry on the ground?" asked
+Rachel once when they were on one of their rambles. "It
+has a dark glossy leaf; and I like the taste and the smell
+of it very much."</p>
+
+<p>"That is the checkerberry," said Paul. "Some people
+call it the boxberry; and some call it wintergreen. It has a
+flavor like that of the black birch. It is used to scent soap,
+and sometimes to flavor candy. It is an evergreen plant."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 276px;">
+<img src="images/illus081.png" width="276" height="400" alt="RAMBLES IN THE WOODS." title="RAMBLES IN THE WOODS." />
+<span class="caption">RAMBLES IN THE WOODS.</span>
+</div><p>"What do you mean by an evergreen?" asked Rachel.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean, it is green the whole year round: it does not
+dry up and fall off, like the leaves of the strawberry-plant,"
+said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"What other sweet-smelling plants are there about
+here?" asked Rachel.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever taste the bark of the sassafras-tree?"
+asked Paul. "If not, here is one; and I will break off a twig
+for you to chew. The color of the inner bark, near the root,
+is red, like cinnamon. A beer is made from it; and it is also
+used in soaps."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I like the odor of it very much," said Rachel.</p>
+
+<p>"Here is a black-birch tree," cried Paul. "Some people
+call it the sweet-birch. I will cut off a piece of the bark
+for you to taste."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it tastes like checkerberry-leaves," said Rachel.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Paul. "It is a beautiful tree, and is good
+for fuel. But here is a white-birch. See how white the bark
+is! It grows on poor land, and is a very pretty tree when
+well taken care of."</p>
+
+<p>Here there was the sound of a horn; and Rachel asked,
+"What is the meaning of that sound?"</p>
+
+<p>"It means that we must run home to dinner," said Paul.
+"So give me your hand, Cousin Rachel. You need not be
+afraid of snakes. There are none here that can do any
+harm. Come, we will make a short cut through the grove
+to the house."</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: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus082.png" width="400" height="99" alt="What I Saw at the Seashore" title="What I Saw at the Seashore" />
+</div>
+
+<h2>WHAT I SAW AT THE SEASHORE.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Last</span> summer I went to spend a few weeks at a quiet
+little island on the New-England coast. Every morning I
+used to go to the beach, and sit on the sands, and watch the
+blue sea with its sparkling waves, and listen to the surf
+breaking in white foam all along the shore.</p>
+
+<p>On pleasant days the beach was lively with bathers, shouting
+and laughing as they plunged into the cool waves; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+little boys and girls playing in the clean sand, digging with
+their shovels, and loading and unloading their wagons, or
+picking up shells and sea-mosses to carry home.</p>
+
+<p>On the brightest days of all, I noticed a pale-faced lady
+who came to sit a while in the sunshine, propped up with
+shawls and pillows. She always brought with her a little
+sky-terrier, of which she seemed as fond as if it had been a
+real baby.</p>
+
+<p>After a while, I got acquainted with the invalid lady, and
+found that her name was Miss Dean, and that her dog
+was named Skye. He was a shaggy-looking little creature;
+but he had very bright eyes, and he knew almost as much
+as the children who played with him. He was very fond of
+his mistress, and very thoughtful of her comfort.</p>
+
+<p>Let me tell you one thing about him that made me think
+so. Skye slept in the room with his mistress, on a soft
+cushion, with a little blanket spread over him; and in the
+morning, when he woke, if she was still asleep, he never
+disturbed her. He just sat up on his cushion as still as he
+could be, and watched her till she woke. As soon as she
+opened her eyes, he gave a little bark, for "good-morning,"
+and sprang up on her bed, to be loved and petted.</p>
+
+<p>Well, Skye was a good little dog; and we all learned to
+love him; and none of us would have hurt him for the world.
+But one day, as we were walking up from the beach, ladies
+and gentlemen and children and all, Skye ran down a lane,
+out of sight; and a thoughtless, wicked boy, who had a stone
+in his hand, and wanted to hit something with it, threw it
+with all his might at poor Skye, and broke one of his legs.</p>
+
+<p>Skye cried out with the pain; and we all hurried back to
+see what was the matter. There we found him, whining
+and howling, and trying to limp along on three legs; and we
+just caught sight of the bad boy, running away far down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
+the lane. Miss Dean picked up her poor little darling, and
+carried him home.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 213px;">
+<img src="images/illus084.png" width="213" height="275" alt="Doctor setting Skye&#39;s leg" title="Doctor setting Skye&#39;s leg" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Now, it happened that
+there was a very skilful surgeon
+staying at the hotel,
+who had come down to the
+island for a short vacation.
+Miss Dean sent for him,
+and begged him to set poor
+Skye's broken leg. He was
+a kind-hearted man, and
+I could not refuse to use his
+skill to relieve the dumb
+little sufferer.</p>
+
+<p>So Miss Dean took Skye
+on her lap, and stroked him
+gently, and talked lovingly
+to him, calling him "Poor
+doggy!" and "Dear Skye," while the doctor made the
+splints, and pressed the broken bones back into their place.
+Then the doctor sent for some plaster of Paris, and made a
+soft mortar of it, and put it all around the mended leg, and
+let it harden into a little case, so that the bones would have
+to stay just as he put them till they grew together again.</p>
+
+<p>All the time the doctor was doing this, Skye kept as still
+as a mouse; but, when it was all done, the little creature
+laid his head on Miss Dean's shoulder, and cried great tears,
+just like a child. Miss Dean had to cry, too, at the helplessness
+of her poor dumb darling.</p>
+
+<p>For a good many weeks, Skye could only hobble about on
+three legs, and had to keep still on his cushion, or lie on his
+mistress' lap, most of the time; but he was very patient.
+And at last, when the good doctor said it would do to remove<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
+the plaster and the splints, we did so; and Skye ran
+around the room as well and lively as ever. Wasn't he
+glad to have his liberty again!</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Muz-Muz</span>.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 187px;">
+<img src="images/illus085a.png" width="187" height="200" alt="Skye" title="Skye" />
+</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>BLOSSOM AND I.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">I will</span> tell you a true story about my sister and me. I am
+five years old, and Fanny (papa calls her Blossom) is three.</p>
+
+<p>We are in Germany now, but our home is in America;
+and, when I go out to play with the boys here, they call me
+"America." We came over the ocean in a big ship. Papa
+and mamma were seasick; but Fanny and I were not, and
+we liked to live on the water.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 264px;">
+<img src="images/illus085b.png" width="264" height="250" alt="Mamma packing the trunks" title="Mamma packing the trunks" />
+</div>
+
+<p>When mamma packed our
+trunks, I wanted her to put
+in my little pails and wheelbarrow;
+and she said there
+wasn't room, but that we could
+bring as many numbers of
+"The Nursery" as we pleased.
+So we brought all we had.</p>
+
+<p>We have used them so
+much, that papa says they
+are not fit to be bound; but
+I don't want to put them away on a shelf to be kept nice. I
+like to have them every day; and so does Fanny.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When we were coming on the steamer, Fanny used to sit
+in the captain's lap, and tell him the stories.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/illus086a.png" width="350" height="265" alt="Fanny on the captain&#39;s lap" title="Fanny on the captain&#39;s lap" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Our auntie sends us a new "Nursery" every month. One
+was lost, and we were very sorry; for we can't read other
+picture-books so well. Fanny always has a "Nursery" to
+take to bed with her; and in the morning, when I wake up,
+I hear her talking to the boys and girls in the pictures.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">C</span>.<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/illus086b.png" width="250" height="212" alt="Fanny asleep" title="Fanny asleep" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div><br /><br /></div><div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"><img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div><div><br /><br /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/illus087.png" width="350" height="340" alt="How Norman became an artist" title="How Norman became an artist" />
+</div>
+
+<h2>HOW NORMAN BECAME AN ARTIST.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> landscape-painter sat on a camp-stool with an umbrella
+over his head. His palette and his box of paints
+were on the ground by his side. He was there to draw a
+picture of the village of F&mdash;&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>Hardly had he begun his crayon outline when he heard a
+boy's voice behind him. "May I look on? sir?" said the
+boy. "Yes, look as much as you please, but don't talk,"
+said the painter without turning his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The boy had a basket strapped to his back, and stood
+looking intently, with both hands resting on his knees. His
+name was Norman Blake. Other boys, and a young woman,
+soon came up, and joined him as spectators.</p>
+
+<p>Norman studied every movement of the painter's hand;
+and, when he got home, he took a piece of charcoal, and
+tried to draw a picture on the wall. Rather a rough picture
+it was, but pretty good for a first attempt.</p>
+
+<p>The next day Norman went again, and looked on while
+the painter sketched. "You've got that line wrong," cried
+Norman all at once, forgetting that the painter had told
+him not to talk.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you know about it, you young vagabond?"
+cried the painter angrily. "Out of this! Run, scamper,
+and don't show your rogue's face here again! But stop.
+Before you go, come here, and point out what struck you
+as wrong."</p>
+
+<p>Norman pointed to a certain line which made the village
+church seem a little out of its right place in the picture.
+The landscape-painter seized him by the ear, and said, "You
+little scamp, how did you find that out? You are right,
+sir! But what business have you to criticise my picture?
+I am hesitating whether to thrash you, or to make a painter
+of you."</p>
+
+<p>"Make a painter of me, by all means;" said Norman,
+laughing; for he saw that the honest painter was only half
+in earnest.</p>
+
+<p>Well, the end of it was, that Norman accompanied the
+painter to the city, and began to study drawing and painting.
+He succeeded so well, that, after he had been studying
+six years, he one day brought to his friend the painter the
+sketch which we have had copied above.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember that?" asked Norman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do!" said the painter. "It represents our
+first meeting. Little did I think that the young vagabond
+with the basket on his back would one day beat me in
+sketching."</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Alfred Selwyn.</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/illus089a.png" width="400" height="342" alt="Hurrah! Great boot-race under difficulties." title="Hurrah! Great boot-race under difficulties." />
+<span class="caption">Hurrah! Great boot-race under difficulties.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/illus089b.png" width="250" height="101" alt="&quot;Now, when she comes out, I shall be sure of her!&quot;" title="&quot;Now, when she comes out, I shall be sure of her!&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;Now, when she comes out, I shall be sure of her!&quot;</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<div><br /><br /></div><div class="figcenter" style="width: 141px;"><img src="images/divider.png" width="141" height="16" alt="Divider" title="Divider" /></div><div><br /><br /></div>
+<h2>PICTURES FOR WALTER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/illus090a.png" width="200" height="161" alt="Bird on weather-vane" title="Bird on weather-vane" />
+</div>
+
+<div class='story'><span class="smcap">Here</span> are some
+birds having a ride
+on the weather-vane.
+The vane is
+on the top of the barn.</div>
+
+<div class='story'>I should think it would make
+the birds dizzy to swing backwards
+and forwards. But they
+like it just as well as some boys
+like to swing on a gate.</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/illus090b.png" width="200" height="160" alt="Bird on a fence" title="Bird on a fence" />
+</div>
+
+<div class='story'>Here is an old
+crow sitting on the
+fence. He is a sly
+old thief. There
+is a nest in the grass; and he
+is after the eggs. If you try to
+get near him, he will fly away,
+saying "Caw, caw, caw!"</div>
+<div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></div>
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/illus091a.png" width="200" height="157" alt="The pig and the milk bucket" title="The pig and the milk bucket" />
+</div>
+
+<div class='story'>The milk-maid
+set down her pail
+of milk, and went
+to the orchard. A
+little pig came along, and tipped
+the pail over; and the milk was
+all spilled. Never leave milk
+where a pig can get at it.</div>
+
+<div class='story'>A woodpecker had a nest in
+a hollow tree. A boy climbed
+up to get the eggs; but the old
+birds flew at him, and pecked
+him, and made him get down.
+I am glad they drove him away.
+What right had he to meddle
+with their nest?</div>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">W. O. C.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/illus091b.png" width="200" height="170" alt="Birds driving the boy away" title="Birds driving the boy away" />
+</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_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus092.png" width="300" height="227" alt="The Fisherman&#39;s Children" title="The Fisherman&#39;s Children" />
+</div>
+<h2>THE FISHERMEN'S CHILDREN.</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">There</span> were three children on the beach looking out to
+see the boats of the fishermen sail off to the fishing-grounds.
+Little Joe Bourne and his sister Susan stood side by side,
+watching their father's boat. Rachel, who was with them,
+was not their sister, but an orphan-child, whose grandfather,
+Mr. Harrison, was in one of the boats.</p>
+
+<p>It was a windy day in November. The waves broke with
+a great noise on the shingly beach. Soon the wind rose
+higher: the sea rose too, and the rain fell fast. The children
+walked back to the village; and there the old men said,
+shaking their heads, "We shall have a storm."</p>
+
+<p>That night, all the boats came safely back into the harbor,
+excepting the boat in which Rachel's grandfather had sailed.
+It was a long, sad night for poor Rachel. The next day
+and the next passed by; and no grandfather came back to
+take care of her, and find her in food and clothes, and
+carry her in his strong arms when she was tired out with
+walking.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus093.png" width="300" height="237" alt="Cutting a boat with an old jack-knife" title="Cutting a boat with an old jack-knife" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Susan and Joe in their own house felt sad for the little
+orphan. One day their mother went to market. Baby was
+in the cradle, and Susan was rocking it, whilst Joe was cutting
+out a boat with an old jack-knife. The kettle on the
+stove began to sing; and Susan and Joe began to talk.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Rachel will have to be sent to the workhouse
+now," said Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not," said Susan. "I hope father will give her
+a home in our own house."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, he says he can hardly earn enough to feed his
+own family," said Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"But can't we do something to help him?" asked Susan.</p>
+
+<p>"I know of nothing children like us can do," said Joe.</p>
+
+<p>When their mother came home, Susan begged so earnestly
+to have Rachel come and stay with them, that Mrs. Bourne
+at last replied, "Well, we will take her in for a week or two,
+and see; but mind, Susan, you must try and earn a little
+money somehow. You will now have less time to play on
+the sands, remember."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/illus094.png" width="350" height="268" alt="Susan went and found Rachel" title="Susan went and found Rachel" />
+</div>
+
+<p>So Susan went and found Rachel, and brought her home
+to live with them all. The poor little orphan was a bright,
+joyous child. She had a strange hope that she should see
+her grandfather again; that he was not lost; for he had told
+her many stories of his escape from great dangers at sea.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, grandfather was on a wreck once a whole week,"
+said Rachel: "he was cast away once on an island where
+he had to live on clams a long while before he was rescued.
+I think we shall hear from him soon."</p>
+
+<p>One day Joe caught a fine basket of perch from the rocks,
+and went round to try and sell them. But all the folks in the
+village told him they could get as many fish as they wanted
+without buying them. So Joe walked off to a town four
+miles away from the sea, and there he sold his fish.</p>
+
+<p>He told a kind blind lady, to whom he sold some, that his
+sister wanted to get work, so that she could help a poor little
+orphan-girl. The kind lady sent Susan half a dozen handkerchiefs
+to hem; and the next morning Susan rose early,
+and sewed by candle-light, while the other children were in
+bed and asleep.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/illus095.png" width="300" height="227" alt="Susan hemming by candlelight" title="Susan hemming by candlelight" />
+</div>
+
+<p>For three years the poor Bourne family gave Rachel a
+nice happy home in their little house; and they would have
+kept her longer, but one day, while the children were all
+playing on the beach, they heard a great shouting, and ran
+to see what it was about.</p>
+
+<p>It was all in honor of Grandfather Harrison. He had
+come back, as Rachel had always said he would. He had
+been picked up at sea in his sinking boat by a ship bound
+for Australia. The old man was carried to that far country.
+He went to the mines, and helped some men dig gold. He
+made a good deal of money, thinking it would be a good
+thing if he could only be rich enough to send his dear little
+grand-daughter to school.</p>
+
+<p>But Rachel was not the only one who was benefited by
+his good fortune. The Bournes shared in it. Joe and Susan,
+and all the rest of the children, were sent to school also; and
+they studied with a will. It was always a happy thought
+to Rachel that the great kindness of these good people did
+not miss its reward even in this life.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span class="smcap">Ida Fay.</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_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/illus096.png" width="400" height="228" alt="Young Lazybones" title="Young Lazybones" />
+</div>
+<h2>YOUNG LAZYBONES.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/music.png" width="600" height="428" 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/septmusic.midi">here</a>.]</small></div>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="8" cellspacing="0" summary="Second and third verses of Young Lazybones">
+<tr><td align='left'>2. Then little Maggie sings to him,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And plays upon the harp;</span><br />
+While rapid Robert, keen and slim,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cries, "Lazybones, look sharp!"</span><br />
+And Lucy tickles with her wand,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This sleepy, lazy boy;</span><br />
+And one and all with tricks and jokes<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In teasing him take joy.</span><br />
+</td><td align='left'>3. But Lazybones must take his nap<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Before he goes to bed:</span><br />
+He does not move his weary limbs<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or lift his heavy head.</span><br />
+And though a dozen brewers' drays<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Should rumble o'er the stones,</span><br />
+Not all the noise that they can make<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would rouse Young Lazybones.</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>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p>
+<p>This issue was part of an omnibus. The original text for this issue did
+not include a title page or table of contents. This was taken from the
+July issue with the "No." added. The original table of contents
+covered the second half of 1873. The remaining text of the table of
+contents can be found in the rest of the year's issues.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nursery, September 1873, Vol. XIV.
+No. 3, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NURSERY, SEPT. 1873, VOL.XIV NO.3 ***
+
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+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, September 1873, Vol. XIV. No. 3, 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, September 1873, Vol. XIV. No. 3
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: March 29, 2008 [EBook #24940]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NURSERY, SEPT. 1873, VOL.XIV NO.3 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net Music
+by Linda Cantoni.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+NURSERY
+
+_A Monthly Magazine_
+
+FOR YOUNGEST READERS.
+
+VOLUME XIV.--No. 3
+
+        BOSTON:
+        JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36, BROMFIELD STREET.
+        1873.
+
+
+
+        Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
+        JOHN L. SHOREY,
+        In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
+
+
+
+
+
+        BOSTON:
+        STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY RAND, AVERY, & CO.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: CONTENTS.]
+
+
+IN PROSE.
+
+                                                     PAGE.
+
+  The Queer Things that happened to Nelly              65
+
+  The Six Ducks                                        69
+
+  The Bunch of Grapes                                  71
+
+  A True Story about a Dog                             73
+
+  Pitcher-Plants and Monkey-Pots                       76
+
+  Under the Cherry-Tree                                77
+
+  Rambles in the Woods                                 80
+
+  What I Saw at the Seashore                           82
+
+  Blossom and I                                        85
+
+  How Norman became an Artist                          87
+
+  A Boot-Race under Difficulties                       89
+
+  Pictures for Walter                                  90
+
+  The Fisherman's Children                             92
+
+
+IN VERSE.
+
+                                                    PAGE.
+
+  Rose's Song                                          68
+
+  A Little Tease                                       75
+
+  Sleeping in the Sunshine                             78
+
+  Young Lazy-Bones (_with music_)                      96
+
+
+[Illustration: THE QUEER THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO NELLY.]
+
+
+
+
+THE QUEER THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO NELLY.
+
+
+[Illustration: N]ELLY BURTON had been weeding in the garden nearly all
+the summer forenoon; and she was quite tired out. "Oh, if I could only
+be dressed up in fine clothes, and not have to work!" thought she.
+
+No sooner had the thought passed through her mind, than, as she looked
+down on the closely-mown grass by the edge of the pond, she saw the
+queerest sight that child ever beheld.
+
+A carriage, the body of which was made of the half of a large
+walnut-shell, brightly gilt, was moving along, dragged by six beetles
+with backs glistening with all the colors of the rainbow.
+
+Seated in the carriage, and carrying a wand, was a young lady not larger
+than a child's little finger, but so beautiful that no humming-bird
+could equal her in beauty. She had the bluest of blue eyes, and yellow
+crinkled hair that shone like gold.
+
+She stopped her team of beetles, and, standing upright, said to Nelly,
+"Listen to me. My name is Pitpat; and I am a fairy. I see how tired you
+are with work. Your father, though a good man, is a blacksmith; and
+there is often a smirch on his face when he stoops to kiss you. Your
+mother wears calico dresses, and doesn't fix her hair with false braids
+and waterfalls. Would you not like to be the daughter of a king and
+queen, and live in a palace?"
+
+"Oh, yes, you beautiful Pitpat! I would like that ever so much!"
+exclaimed Nelly. "Then I should be a princess, and have nothing to do
+but amuse myself all day."
+
+"Take the end of my wand, and touch your eyes with it," said the little
+fairy.
+
+Nelly obeyed; and in a moment, before she could wink, she found herself
+in a beautiful room, with mirrors reaching from the ceiling to the
+floor. By these she saw that she was no longer clad in an old dingy
+dress, nor were her feet bare; but she had on a beautiful skirt of
+light-blue velvet, and a bodice of the most costly lace, trimmed with
+ribbons; while diamonds were in her hair, and a pair of gold slippers on
+her feet.
+
+Servants were in attendance on her, one of whom said, "May it please
+your Highness, his Majesty, your royal father, is coming." Nelly's heart
+fluttered. The door opened, and, preceded by two or three lackeys, a
+pompous old gentleman entered, clad in rich robes, a golden crown on his
+head, and no smirch on his face.
+
+But, dear me, instead of catching her up in his arms, and calling her
+his own precious little Nelly, his Majesty simply gave her his hand to
+kiss, and passed on.
+
+The queen followed in his steps. Her hair was done up in a tower of
+top-knots and waterfalls; and there was drapery enough on the back of
+her dress to astonish an upholsterer. Instead of calling Nelly "her
+darling," as Nelly's first mother used to do, the queen merely said, as
+she swept by, "Where are your manners, child?" for you must know that
+poor Nelly had forgotten to courtesy.
+
+Nelly put her face in her hands, and began to cry. "Oh, you cruel
+Pitpat!" said she, "why did you tempt me? Oh! give me back my own dear
+mother in her calico dress, my own dear father with the smirch on his
+face, my doll Angelica, my black-and-white kitten Dainty, and my own
+dear, dear home beside the lovely pond where the air is so sweet and the
+bushes are so green."
+
+"Take the end of my wand again, and touch your eyes with it," said the
+voice of Pitpat. And there on the carpet, in her little gilded carriage,
+stood the fairy once more with her wand held out. Nelly seized it
+eagerly, and touched her eyes.
+
+"Why, Dainty, what are you about?" said Nelly, as she felt the kitten's
+head against her arm; and then, opening her eyes, she started to find
+herself in the old wood-shed, seated with her back against the door,
+Angelica in her lap, and the soft breeze from the pond fanning her cheek
+and bosom. She looked at her feet. Ah! the golden slippers had
+disappeared. "Dear me! I must have been dreaming," said Nelly.
+
+                                                  IDA FAY.
+
+
+
+
+ROSE'S SONG.
+
+
+            So it's hush-a-by, baby,
+            Hush-a-by now,
+        Mamma's gone to buy something good;
+            And she will not forget
+            Her own darling pet,
+        But will buy her a bonny blue hood:
+        Yes, she'll buy her a bonny blue hood.
+            Oh! she will not forget
+            Her own baby pet,
+        But will buy her a bonny blue hood.
+
+            Then it's crow away, baby,
+            Crow away, sweet,
+        Papa he is coming to-night;
+            And he'll bring home a kiss,
+            Like _this_ and like _this_,
+        For his sweet little Minnie so bright,
+        For his dear little Minnie so bright.
+            Oh! he's many a kiss,
+            Like _this_ and like _this_,
+        For his sweet little Minnie to-night.
+
+                                                  GEO. BENNETT.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE SIX DUCKS.
+
+
+IN the pond near Emily's house six tame ducks used to have a fine time
+swimming about, except in winter, when the pond was frozen. Emily had a
+name for each one of them. They used to run to her when she called; for
+they knew she loved them all, and would treat them well.
+
+Among these six happy ducks there was a white one that was at one time
+of his life a wild duck. Emily named him _Albus_; for _albus_ is Latin
+for _white_. I will tell you how Albus happened to become tamed.
+
+He was once on his way to the South with a large flock of his wild
+companions, when, as they were alighting near a creek, Albus was shot in
+the wing by Dick Barker, a sportsman who was out gunning. Dick ran with
+his dog Spot to pick up the poor wounded bird; but Albus was not so much
+hurt that he could not fly a little.
+
+He flew and flew till he came to Emily's little garden; and then he fell
+at her feet, faint, but not dead, as if pleading for protection. Emily
+took him up in her arms, though she soiled her apron with blood in so
+doing. Dick and Spot came up; and Dick said roughly, "Give me up that
+duck."
+
+"The duck has flown to my feet for protection; and I would be shot
+myself before I would betray him and give him up," said Emily. "I shall
+keep him, and heal his wounds."
+
+Mr. Dick Barker scolded wildly; but it was of no use. He had to go off
+duckless. As for Albus, he soon grew well under Emily's tender care; but
+his wing was not as strong as it used to be: so he concluded he would
+become a tame bird, and not try to fly off again with his wild
+companions. He had a happy home, a kind mistress, and pleasant duck
+acquaintances. So, like a good sensible waddler, he was content.
+
+                                                  EMILY CARTER.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE BUNCH OF GRAPES.
+
+
+"I AM thinking what I shall do with this beautiful bunch of grapes,"
+said Reka Lane as she sat on the bench near the arbor. Her real name was
+Rebecca; but they called her, for shortness, Reka.
+
+"I know what I should do with it," said little Matilda, who had been
+wading in the brook, and was without shoes and stockings. "I should
+divide it among the present company."
+
+"Good for Matty!" exclaimed brother Henry. "The best use you can put
+grapes to is to eat them before they spoil. Come, Reka, divide, divide."
+
+"I am not sure that I shall do that," said Reka.
+
+"Look at that queer dog!" said Matty. "He has crept under the shawl on
+the ground, and looks like a head with no body to it."
+
+"That shawl was left there the other day by old Mrs. Merton," said Reka.
+"The dog is her son's terrier; and his name is Beauty."
+
+"He is any thing but a beauty," said Matty. "I think him the ugliest dog
+I ever saw."
+
+"I suppose they call him Beauty to make up for the bad word he gets from
+every one as being ugly," said Reka. "He is a good dog, nevertheless;
+and he knows that shawl belongs to his mistress.--Don't you, Beauty?"
+
+Here Beauty tore out from under the shawl, and began barking in a very
+intelligent manner.
+
+"Now I will tell you what we will do," said Reka. "Put on your shoes and
+stockings, Matty, and we will all go and call on Mrs. Merton, who is
+ill; and we'll take back her shawl, and give her this beautiful bunch of
+grapes."
+
+"Bow, wow, wow!" cried Beauty, jumping up, and trying to lick Reka's
+face.
+
+When the children left Mrs. Merton's, after they had presented the
+grapes, Henry Lane made this remark, "I'll tell you what it is, girls,
+to see that old lady so pleased by our attention gave me more pleasure
+than a big feast on grapes, ice-creams, and sponge-cake, with lemonade
+thrown in."
+
+                                                  DORA BURNSIDE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A TRUE STORY ABOUT A DOG.
+
+
+I AM a middle-aged gentleman who is blessed with only one child, a
+little girl now nearly six years old. Her name is Fanny; and her cousin
+Gracie, who is about the same age, lives with us.
+
+Both of these little girls are very fond of having me tell them stories;
+and I have often told them about a dog I once had. They liked this story
+so much, that they made me promise I would send it to "The Nursery," so
+that a great many little girls and boys might hear it also. This is the
+story:--
+
+        When I was a little boy, not more than eight
+        years old, my mother consented to my having a
+        dog which a friend offered to give me. He was a
+        little pup then, not more than five weeks old.
+        I fed him on milk for a while, and he grew very
+        fast. I named him Caesar.
+
+        When he got to be six months old, he became
+        very mischievous. Things were constantly being
+        missed from the house. Handkerchiefs, slippers,
+        shoes, towels, aprons, and napkins disappeared;
+        and no one could tell what became of them. One
+        day Caesar was seen going into the garden with a
+        slipper in his mouth; and I followed him to a
+        far-off corner where stood a large
+        currant-bush.
+
+        I looked under the bush, and saw Caesar digging
+        a hole, into which he put the slipper, and then
+        covered it up with earth. Upon digging under
+        this bush, I found all the things that had been
+        missed.
+
+        A neighbor's dog, called "Dr. Wiseman," was
+        Caesar's particular friend. One day we heard a
+        loud scratching at the front-door; and, when we
+        opened it, in walked Caesar and Dr. Wiseman.
+        Caesar took the Doctor by the ear, and led him
+        up to each of the family, just as if he were
+        introducing him, and then led him into the
+        garden, and treated him to a bone.
+
+        Although Caesar did many naughty things, we all
+        loved him; for he was quite affectionate as
+        well as intelligent: but our neighbors
+        complained of him because he chased their
+        chickens, bit their pigs, and scared their
+        horses. A farmer who came to our house one day
+        with a load of potatoes took a great fancy to
+        him. He wanted him for a watch-dog on his farm,
+        which was only four miles from our house.
+
+        As he promised to treat him kindly, my mother
+        thought it was best to let him have the dog;
+        and I finally consented, although I believe I
+        cried a good deal about it.
+
+        So Caesar was put into the farmer's wagon, much
+        against his will; and off he went into the
+        country. About three months afterwards, when
+        there was a foot of snow on the ground, there
+        came a great scratching at the front-door of
+        our house, early in the morning, before I was
+        up; and, when the servant opened the door, in
+        bounded Caesar with a rope around his neck, and
+        a large chunk of wood fastened to the other end
+        of it.
+
+        He ran by the servant, and up the stairs, with
+        the piece of wood going bump, bump, all the
+        way, dashed into my room, jumped right up on my
+        bed, and began licking my face.
+
+        I was very glad to see my dog again. He staid
+        with us several days; and, when the farmer came
+        for him, he lay down on the floor, closed his
+        eyes, and pretended to be dead; but the farmer
+        took him back to the farm in his wagon.
+
+        About a year and a half after that, when I came
+        home for a vacation, we all went up to the
+        farm, hoping to see Caesar; but we never saw him
+        again. The farmer had shot him, because he
+        killed the chickens, and chased the sheep, and
+        would not mind any thing that was said to him.
+        Thus you see, children, that Caesar came to a
+        bad end, although he had every advantage of
+        good society in his early youth.
+
+                                                  LANSINGBURGH, N.Y.
+
+C. R. W.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A LITTLE TEASE.
+
+
+        I KNOW a little fellow
+          Who is such a wilful tease,
+        That, when he's not in mischief,
+          He is never at his ease:
+        He dearly loves to frolic,
+          And to play untimely jokes
+        Upon his little sister,
+          And upon the older folks.
+
+        He rings the bell for Sarah,
+          And then slyly runs away;
+        And tries to make a fool of her
+          A dozen times a day:
+        He hides away in corners,
+          To spring suddenly in sight;
+        And laughs, oh! very heartily,
+          To see her jump with fright.
+
+        When kitty's lying quiet,
+          And curled up warm and snug,
+        This little fellow always feels
+          Like giving her a hug;
+        And kitty from his fond embrace
+          Would surely never flinch,
+        Did she not know the little tease
+          Would give her many a pinch.
+
+        But this provoking fellow
+          Has a very curious way
+        Of feeling rather hurt at tricks
+          That other people play,--
+        Just like some older jokers,
+          Who laugh at fun they make,
+        But never can enjoy the fun
+          Of jokes they have to take.
+
+                                                  JOSEPHINE POLLARD.
+
+
+
+
+PITCHER-PLANTS AND MONKEY-POTS.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+PITCHER-PLANTS are so called, because, at the end of the leaves, the
+midrib which runs through them is formed into a cup shape; and in some
+it looks very like a pitcher or water-jug You will understand this
+better if you look at the drawing.
+
+There are various kinds of pitcher-plants. Some are shorter and broader
+than others; but they are all green like true leaves, and hold water as
+securely as a jug or glass. They grow in Borneo and Sumatra, hot islands
+in the East. The one shown in the drawing grows in Ceylon.
+
+Some grow in America; but they are altogether different from those in
+Borneo and Ceylon. One beautiful little pitcher-plant grows in
+Australia: but this is also very different from all the rest; for the
+pitchers, instead of being at the end of the leaves, are clustered round
+the bottom of the plant, close to the ground.
+
+All these pitcher-plants, though very beautiful to look at, are very
+cruel enemies to insects: for the pitchers nearly always have water in
+them; and flies and small insects are constantly falling into them, and
+getting drowned.
+
+Monkey-pots are hard, woody fruits; some as large and round as a
+cannon-ball, and some shaped like a bowl. They grow on large trees in
+Brazil and other parts of South America; and the natives take out the
+seeds, and use the fruits for holding water, or to wash themselves in.
+
+They are called monkey-pots because monkeys are very fond of the seeds.
+Some of the seeds are so good, that they are collected, and sent to
+London and other places, where they are sold in the markets. The
+Brazil-nut is one of them.
+
+                                                  J. R. J.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+UNDER THE CHERRY-TREE.
+
+
+"NOW is the time to pick the cherries!" shouted Charles as he came
+running in from the garden one July afternoon.
+
+"Are they quite ripe?" said his mother.
+
+"Ripe? I should think so. Just look at them!" answered Charles, pointing
+to the trees.
+
+"O mamma!" said Mary, "the birds are getting them all. We must have them
+picked at once."
+
+"Never fear, little girl," said her mother. "There will be enough for
+the birds and ourselves and our neighbors too. But it really is time to
+begin to pick them. So, Charles, get a basket, and we will all go out
+under the cherry-tree."
+
+So out they all went,--Charles and Mary and Ellen and Julia and Ruth;
+and mamma followed with the baby.
+
+"I told the gardener to bring a ladder," said mamma. "He will be here in
+a moment, Charles. You can't pick cherries without a ladder, you know."
+
+"Of course," said that saucy boy. "Nobody can pick cherries without a
+ladder." And with that he gave a spring, and in about half a minute had
+climbed up into the tree.
+
+"Now, girls, hold your aprons," said he. And down came a shower of the
+delicious fruit.
+
+Then what a glorious scramble those little girls had! How they laughed
+and jumped and knocked heads together in picking up the cherries! They
+ate as many as they wanted; and still Charles kept throwing down more.
+
+"Have you had enough?" said he. "So have I. Now it's time to think about
+filling the basket. Ah! here comes the ladder at last, with a man under
+it."
+
+                                                  UNCLE SAM.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+SLEEPING IN THE SUNSHINE.
+
+
+        SLEEPING in the sunshine,
+            Fie, fie, fie!
+        While the birds are soaring
+            High, high, high!
+        While the buds are opening sweet,
+        And the blossoms at your feet
+        Look a smiling face to greet.
+            Fie, fie, fie!
+
+        Sleeping in the sunshine,
+            Fie, fie, fie!
+        While the bee goes humming
+            By, by, by!
+        Is there no small task for you,--
+        Nought for little hands to do?
+        Shame to sleep the morning through!
+            Fie, fie, fie!
+
+
+
+
+RAMBLES IN THE WOODS.
+
+
+RACHEL has been used to a life in the city, but she is now on a visit to
+her uncle's in the country; and she has fine times rambling through the
+woods and fields.
+
+Her cousin Paul takes her to pick berries, and tells her the names of
+the things she sees. "Smell of these leaves," Paul will say, breaking a
+twig from a shrub, somewhat like a huckleberry-bush, and crushing the
+leaves in his hand. "This is the bayberry-shrub. How fragrant the leaves
+are! It bears a berry with a gray wax-like coating; and in Nova Scotia
+this wax is much used instead of tallow, or mixed with tallow, to make
+candles."
+
+"But what is this little red berry on the ground?" asked Rachel once
+when they were on one of their rambles. "It has a dark glossy leaf; and
+I like the taste and the smell of it very much."
+
+"That is the checkerberry," said Paul. "Some people call it the
+boxberry; and some call it wintergreen. It has a flavor like that of the
+black birch. It is used to scent soap, and sometimes to flavor candy. It
+is an evergreen plant."
+
+"What do you mean by an evergreen?" asked Rachel.
+
+"I mean, it is green the whole year round: it does not dry up and fall
+off, like the leaves of the strawberry-plant," said Paul.
+
+"What other sweet-smelling plants are there about here?" asked Rachel.
+
+"Did you ever taste the bark of the sassafras-tree?" asked Paul. "If
+not, here is one; and I will break off a twig for you to chew. The color
+of the inner bark, near the root, is red, like cinnamon. A beer is made
+from it; and it is also used in soaps."
+
+[Illustration: RAMBLES IN THE WOODS.]
+
+"I like the odor of it very much," said Rachel.
+
+"Here is a black-birch tree," cried Paul. "Some people call it the
+sweet-birch. I will cut off a piece of the bark for you to taste."
+
+"Why, it tastes like checkerberry-leaves," said Rachel.
+
+"Yes," replied Paul. "It is a beautiful tree, and is good for fuel. But
+here is a white-birch. See how white the bark is! It grows on poor land,
+and is a very pretty tree when well taken care of."
+
+Here there was the sound of a horn; and Rachel asked, "What is the
+meaning of that sound?"
+
+"It means that we must run home to dinner," said Paul. "So give me your
+hand, Cousin Rachel. You need not be afraid of snakes. There are none
+here that can do any harm. Come, we will make a short cut through the
+grove to the house."
+
+                                                  UNCLE CHARLES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+WHAT I SAW AT THE SEASHORE.
+
+
+LAST summer I went to spend a few weeks at a quiet little island on the
+New-England coast. Every morning I used to go to the beach, and sit on
+the sands, and watch the blue sea with its sparkling waves, and listen
+to the surf breaking in white foam all along the shore.
+
+On pleasant days the beach was lively with bathers, shouting and
+laughing as they plunged into the cool waves; and little boys and girls
+playing in the clean sand, digging with their shovels, and loading and
+unloading their wagons, or picking up shells and sea-mosses to carry
+home.
+
+On the brightest days of all, I noticed a pale-faced lady who came to
+sit a while in the sunshine, propped up with shawls and pillows. She
+always brought with her a little sky-terrier, of which she seemed as
+fond as if it had been a real baby.
+
+After a while, I got acquainted with the invalid lady, and found that
+her name was Miss Dean, and that her dog was named Skye. He was a
+shaggy-looking little creature; but he had very bright eyes, and he knew
+almost as much as the children who played with him. He was very fond of
+his mistress, and very thoughtful of her comfort.
+
+Let me tell you one thing about him that made me think so. Skye slept in
+the room with his mistress, on a soft cushion, with a little blanket
+spread over him; and in the morning, when he woke, if she was still
+asleep, he never disturbed her. He just sat up on his cushion as still
+as he could be, and watched her till she woke. As soon as she opened her
+eyes, he gave a little bark, for "good-morning," and sprang up on her
+bed, to be loved and petted.
+
+Well, Skye was a good little dog; and we all learned to love him; and
+none of us would have hurt him for the world. But one day, as we were
+walking up from the beach, ladies and gentlemen and children and all,
+Skye ran down a lane, out of sight; and a thoughtless, wicked boy, who
+had a stone in his hand, and wanted to hit something with it, threw it
+with all his might at poor Skye, and broke one of his legs.
+
+Skye cried out with the pain; and we all hurried back to see what was
+the matter. There we found him, whining and howling, and trying to limp
+along on three legs; and we just caught sight of the bad boy, running
+away far down the lane. Miss Dean picked up her poor little darling,
+and carried him home.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Now, it happened that there was a very skilful surgeon staying at the
+hotel, who had come down to the island for a short vacation. Miss Dean
+sent for him, and begged him to set poor Skye's broken leg. He was a
+kind-hearted man, and I could not refuse to use his skill to relieve the
+dumb little sufferer.
+
+So Miss Dean took Skye on her lap, and stroked him gently, and talked
+lovingly to him, calling him "Poor doggy!" and "Dear Skye," while the
+doctor made the splints, and pressed the broken bones back into their
+place. Then the doctor sent for some plaster of Paris, and made a soft
+mortar of it, and put it all around the mended leg, and let it harden
+into a little case, so that the bones would have to stay just as he put
+them till they grew together again.
+
+All the time the doctor was doing this, Skye kept as still as a mouse;
+but, when it was all done, the little creature laid his head on Miss
+Dean's shoulder, and cried great tears, just like a child. Miss Dean had
+to cry, too, at the helplessness of her poor dumb darling.
+
+For a good many weeks, Skye could only hobble about on three legs, and
+had to keep still on his cushion, or lie on his mistress' lap, most of
+the time; but he was very patient. And at last, when the good doctor
+said it would do to remove the plaster and the splints, we did so; and
+Skye ran around the room as well and lively as ever. Wasn't he glad to
+have his liberty again!
+
+                                                  MUZ-MUZ.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+BLOSSOM AND I.
+
+
+I WILL tell you a true story about my sister and me. I am five years
+old, and Fanny (papa calls her Blossom) is three.
+
+We are in Germany now, but our home is in America; and, when I go out to
+play with the boys here, they call me "America." We came over the ocean
+in a big ship. Papa and mamma were seasick; but Fanny and I were not,
+and we liked to live on the water.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+When mamma packed our trunks, I wanted her to put in my little pails and
+wheelbarrow; and she said there wasn't room, but that we could bring as
+many numbers of "The Nursery" as we pleased. So we brought all we had.
+
+We have used them so much, that papa says they are not fit to be bound;
+but I don't want to put them away on a shelf to be kept nice. I like to
+have them every day; and so does Fanny.
+
+When we were coming on the steamer, Fanny used to sit in the captain's
+lap, and tell him the stories.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Our auntie sends us a new "Nursery" every month. One was lost, and we
+were very sorry; for we can't read other picture-books so well. Fanny
+always has a "Nursery" to take to bed with her; and in the morning, when
+I wake up, I hear her talking to the boys and girls in the pictures.
+
+                                                  C.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HOW NORMAN BECAME AN ARTIST.
+
+
+THE landscape-painter sat on a camp-stool with an umbrella over his
+head. His palette and his box of paints were on the ground by his side.
+He was there to draw a picture of the village of F----.
+
+Hardly had he begun his crayon outline when he heard a boy's voice
+behind him. "May I look on? sir?" said the boy. "Yes, look as much as
+you please, but don't talk," said the painter without turning his head.
+
+The boy had a basket strapped to his back, and stood looking intently,
+with both hands resting on his knees. His name was Norman Blake. Other
+boys, and a young woman, soon came up, and joined him as spectators.
+
+Norman studied every movement of the painter's hand; and, when he got
+home, he took a piece of charcoal, and tried to draw a picture on the
+wall. Rather a rough picture it was, but pretty good for a first
+attempt.
+
+The next day Norman went again, and looked on while the painter
+sketched. "You've got that line wrong," cried Norman all at once,
+forgetting that the painter had told him not to talk.
+
+"What do you know about it, you young vagabond?" cried the painter
+angrily. "Out of this! Run, scamper, and don't show your rogue's face
+here again! But stop. Before you go, come here, and point out what
+struck you as wrong."
+
+Norman pointed to a certain line which made the village church seem a
+little out of its right place in the picture. The landscape-painter
+seized him by the ear, and said, "You little scamp, how did you find
+that out? You are right, sir! But what business have you to criticise my
+picture? I am hesitating whether to thrash you, or to make a painter of
+you."
+
+"Make a painter of me, by all means;" said Norman, laughing; for he saw
+that the honest painter was only half in earnest.
+
+Well, the end of it was, that Norman accompanied the painter to the
+city, and began to study drawing and painting. He succeeded so well,
+that, after he had been studying six years, he one day brought to his
+friend the painter the sketch which we have had copied above.
+
+"Do you remember that?" asked Norman.
+
+"Of course I do!" said the painter. "It represents our first meeting.
+Little did I think that the young vagabond with the basket on his back
+would one day beat me in sketching."
+
+                                                  ALFRED SELWYN.
+
+[Illustration: HURRAH! GREAT BOOT-RACE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.]
+
+[Illustration: "NOW, WHEN SHE COMES OUT, I SHALL BE SURE OF HER!"]
+
+
+
+
+PICTURES FOR WALTER.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+HERE are some birds having a ride on the weather-vane. The vane is on
+the top of the barn.
+
+I should think it would make the birds dizzy to swing backwards and
+forwards. But they like it just as well as some boys like to swing on a
+gate.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Here is an old crow sitting on the fence. He is a sly old thief. There
+is a nest in the grass; and he is after the eggs. If you try to get near
+him, he will fly away, saying "Caw, caw, caw!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The milk-maid set down her pail of milk, and went to the orchard. A
+little pig came along, and tipped the pail over; and the milk was all
+spilled. Never leave milk where a pig can get at it.
+
+A woodpecker had a nest in a hollow tree. A boy climbed up to get the
+eggs; but the old birds flew at him, and pecked him, and made him get
+down. I am glad they drove him away. What right had he to meddle with
+their nest?
+
+                                                  W. O. C.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE FISHERMEN'S CHILDREN.
+
+
+THERE were three children on the beach looking out to see the boats of
+the fishermen sail off to the fishing-grounds. Little Joe Bourne and his
+sister Susan stood side by side, watching their father's boat. Rachel,
+who was with them, was not their sister, but an orphan-child, whose
+grandfather, Mr. Harrison, was in one of the boats.
+
+It was a windy day in November. The waves broke with a great noise on
+the shingly beach. Soon the wind rose higher: the sea rose too, and the
+rain fell fast. The children walked back to the village; and there the
+old men said, shaking their heads, "We shall have a storm."
+
+That night, all the boats came safely back into the harbor, excepting
+the boat in which Rachel's grandfather had sailed. It was a long, sad
+night for poor Rachel. The next day and the next passed by; and no
+grandfather came back to take care of her, and find her in food and
+clothes, and carry her in his strong arms when she was tired out with
+walking.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Susan and Joe in their own house felt sad for the little orphan. One day
+their mother went to market. Baby was in the cradle, and Susan was
+rocking it, whilst Joe was cutting out a boat with an old jack-knife.
+The kettle on the stove began to sing; and Susan and Joe began to talk.
+
+"Poor Rachel will have to be sent to the workhouse now," said Joe.
+
+"I hope not," said Susan. "I hope father will give her a home in our own
+house."
+
+"Why, he says he can hardly earn enough to feed his own family," said
+Joe.
+
+"But can't we do something to help him?" asked Susan.
+
+"I know of nothing children like us can do," said Joe.
+
+When their mother came home, Susan begged so earnestly to have Rachel
+come and stay with them, that Mrs. Bourne at last replied, "Well, we
+will take her in for a week or two, and see; but mind, Susan, you must
+try and earn a little money somehow. You will now have less time to play
+on the sands, remember."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+So Susan went and found Rachel, and brought her home to live with them
+all. The poor little orphan was a bright, joyous child. She had a
+strange hope that she should see her grandfather again; that he was not
+lost; for he had told her many stories of his escape from great dangers
+at sea.
+
+"Why, grandfather was on a wreck once a whole week," said Rachel: "he
+was cast away once on an island where he had to live on clams a long
+while before he was rescued. I think we shall hear from him soon."
+
+One day Joe caught a fine basket of perch from the rocks, and went round
+to try and sell them. But all the folks in the village told him they
+could get as many fish as they wanted without buying them. So Joe walked
+off to a town four miles away from the sea, and there he sold his fish.
+
+He told a kind blind lady, to whom he sold some, that his sister wanted
+to get work, so that she could help a poor little orphan-girl. The kind
+lady sent Susan half a dozen handkerchiefs to hem; and the next morning
+Susan rose early, and sewed by candle-light, while the other children
+were in bed and asleep.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+For three years the poor Bourne family gave Rachel a nice happy home in
+their little house; and they would have kept her longer, but one day,
+while the children were all playing on the beach, they heard a great
+shouting, and ran to see what it was about.
+
+It was all in honor of Grandfather Harrison. He had come back, as Rachel
+had always said he would. He had been picked up at sea in his sinking
+boat by a ship bound for Australia. The old man was carried to that far
+country. He went to the mines, and helped some men dig gold. He made a
+good deal of money, thinking it would be a good thing if he could only
+be rich enough to send his dear little grand-daughter to school.
+
+But Rachel was not the only one who was benefited by his good fortune.
+The Bournes shared in it. Joe and Susan, and all the rest of the
+children, were sent to school also; and they studied with a will. It was
+always a happy thought to Rachel that the great kindness of these good
+people did not miss its reward even in this life.
+
+                                                  IDA FAY.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+YOUNG LAZYBONES.
+
+Music by T. CRAMPTON.
+
+[Illustration: Music]
+
+_Cheerfully. mf_
+
+        1. Young Lazybones is smooth and sleek,
+          Young Lazybones is fat;
+        His eye sits drowsing in his cheek,
+          And many a day has sat,
+        Young Lazybones he keeps his state
+          All in his easy chair,
+        And tho' the time is getting late,
+          He does not seem to care.
+
+        2. Then little Maggie sings to him,
+          And plays upon the harp;
+        While rapid Robert, keen and slim,
+          Cries, "Lazybones, look sharp!"
+        And Lucy tickles with her wand,
+          This sleepy, lazy boy;
+        And one and all with tricks and jokes
+          In teasing him take joy.
+
+        3. But Lazybones must take his nap
+          Before he goes to bed:
+        He does not move his weary limbs
+          Or lift his heavy head.
+        And though a dozen brewers' drays
+          Should rumble o'er the stones,
+        Not all the noise that they can make
+          Would rouse Young Lazybones.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+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
+July issue with the "No." added. The original table of contents covered
+the second half of 1873. The remaining text of the table of contents can
+be found in the rest of the year's issues.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nursery, September 1873, Vol. XIV.
+No. 3, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NURSERY, SEPT. 1873, VOL.XIV NO.3 ***
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