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diff --git a/24940.txt b/24940.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa45aec --- /dev/null +++ b/24940.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1389 @@ +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 *** + +***** This file should be named 24940.txt or 24940.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/9/4/24940/ + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net Music +by Linda Cantoni. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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