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diff --git a/28135-h/28135-h.htm b/28135-h/28135-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..624f421 --- /dev/null +++ b/28135-h/28135-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1685 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nursery, July 1877, Vol. XXII., by Various. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 70%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem3 {margin-left: 40%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .story {font-size: 200%; margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em;} + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, July 1877, XXII. No. 1, 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, July 1877, XXII. No. 1 + A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 20, 2009 [EBook #28135] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, JULY 1877 *** + + + + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. Music +by Linda Cantoni. + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> + + + + +<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 XXII.—No. 1.<br /> + +<br /><br /> +BOSTON:<br /> +JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET,<br /> +1877.<br /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='copyright'><br /><br /><br /> +Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by<br /> +JOHN L. SHOREY,<br /> +In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.<br /> +<br /><br /><br /> +FRANKLIN PRESS:<br /> +RAND, AVERY, AND COMPANY,<br /> +117 FRANKLIN STREET,<br /> +BOSTON.<br /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/contents.png" width="400" height="210" alt="Contents" title="" /> +</div> + +<h3>IN PROSE.</h3> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents in Prose"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Percy and the Oxen</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Pet Rabbits</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Fourth of July Morning</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A Fish Story</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Buttercup's Circus</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>At Sea</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drawing-Lesson</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Solomon and the tame Bear</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Sixth Lesson in Astronomy </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Pictures for Mary</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Chamois</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<h3><br />IN VERSE.</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents in Verse"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Wild Bees' Home</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Chipping-Birds' Song</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The little Deserter</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>At Dinner</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Teddy's Kitten</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Garden Tools</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>What does little Birdie say? (<i>with music</i>) </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/illus004.png" width="250" height="194" alt="A Merry Christmas to You" title="" /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 339px;"> +<img src="images/illus005.png" width="339" height="500" alt="Wild bees" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Wild bees of the wood are we;</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">But our hive you must not see.</span><br /> +</div> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE WILD BEES' HOME.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Wild</span> bees of the wood are we;<br /> +But our hive you must not see:<br /> +Here behold our happy home,<br /> +Where we labor, where we roam.<br /> +Brooks that on their shining bosoms<br /> +Catch the overhanging blossoms;<br /> +Banks all bright with clustering flowers,—<br /> +Here is where we pass our hours.<br /> +<br /> +Seldom on this solitude<br /> +Does a girl or boy intrude;<br /> +Few among you are aware<br /> +What a home is ours, so fair!<br /> +In the brook are little fish;<br /> +You would like them on a dish:<br /> +Keep away, and bring no hooks<br /> +To these happy, murmuring brooks.<br /> +<br /> +You would like to find our hoard<br /> +Of honey-comb and honey stored;<br /> +You would track us, if you could,<br /> +Through the field, and through the wood,<br /> +Till, within some hollow tree,<br /> +You our waxen cells could see.<br /> +But beware now what you do;<br /> +Treat us well, and we'll treat you.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Dora Burnside.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus007.png" width="500" height="380" alt="Percy and the Oxen" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2>PERCY AND THE OXEN.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Summer</span> came, and the city streets were dry, dusty, and +noisy, and the bricks made everybody's eyes ache.</p> + +<p>So mamma took little Percy, who was only three years +old, and the rosy, fat one-year-old baby, and went away in +the steam cars to the green, fresh, cool, sunny country. +Grandpa was left all alone in the still city home, with good +old 'Titia to keep house for him until the family should +come back in the fall.</p> + +<p>Well, those who could go to the country had just as +much fun as they could wish for,—sitting out under the +trees all the sunny days, and in the barn, when the sun +was too hot for them to want him to shine on them.</p> + +<p>One day, great-aunt Hannah was giving her nephews +and nieces a dinner of corn and beans, and apples and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +cream, and nice bread and butter, and they all sat at the +table a long time, talking and laughing, and enjoying themselves.</p> + +<p>All at once little mamma said, "Why, where's Percy?" +and sprang up, and ran to the side-door, which opened on to +the green.</p> + +<p>No Percy was to be seen there: so all began to hunt +through the sitting-room, even through the parlor (where +he never played), out in the kitchen, farther out through +the long wood-shed, still farther out in the carriage-house; +but he was in none of these places.</p> + +<p>Then great-aunt Hannah opened the cupboards, and +pulled out the drawers, as though she expected to find +the "grand-boy" rolled up in a napkin, and tucked away +in a corner.</p> + +<p>There was a high state of flutter when mamma peeped +round the edge of the open dining-room door, and said, +"Come with me."</p> + +<p>She was so smiling, that every one knew the search was +up; and a row of tall people and short people, headed by +little mamma, and ended by tall aunt Hannah, streamed out +and over the green, across the road. There they were +stopped, and told by mamma to go softly and look in one +of the barn-windows.</p> + +<p>What did they see? A good load of sweet-scented hay +piled on a wide hay-cart, two big oxen yoked to that, standing +in the middle of the barn-floor, with their two great +heads held down very low.</p> + +<p>In front of them was little chubby Percy, in his clean +white frock, swinging a tiny pail, that would hold a teaspoonful +of berries, in one hand, and with the other holding +out a berry to the oxen, as they put their great mouths +down to be fed.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Aunt Emmie.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/illus009.png" width="300" height="248" alt="Pet Rabbits" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>PET RABBITS.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Many</span> of my little readers have owned tame rabbits; but +I doubt if they ever had for a pet the little wild rabbit who +lives in the woods, and, at the South, builds his nest above +ground.</p> + +<p>On a warm, sunny afternoon in May, two little rabbits, +whose mother had been killed by a dog, were brought home +in a gentleman's pocket, and given to my little boys. They +were not old enough to feed themselves: so we put some +milk in a small bottle, and tied a piece of sponge to the +neck of it, and in that way the little things sucked up +the milk.</p> + +<p>The children had a large, old-fashioned fireplace in their +room, and, after taking out the andirons, they covered the +bricks with fresh clover and grass, making a safe and snug +home for the rabbits at night. Several times a day they +were allowed to run about the lawn, and crop the sweet +white clover; and often at night, they would jump out from +their home in the fireplace, and run about the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were named George and Mary Rabbit, and always +used to sleep side by side. But after a few weeks they +must have felt tired of their humdrum life; for one bright +morning they ran away. I hope they are living happily +together in the fragrant woods from which they were +brought.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Charlie's Mamma.</span><br /> +</div> +<p><span class="smcap">Kittrells, N. C.</span><br /> +</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<h2>CHIPPING-BIRDS' SONG.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +"<span class="smcap">Chipper</span>, chipper, clear the way;<br /> +We must be at work to-day.<br /> +See us swiftly fly along,<br /> +Hear our bursts of merry song.<br /> +Watch me in my busy flight,<br /> +Glancing in your window bright;<br /> +Save your bits of yarn for me,<br /> +Just think what a help 'twould be!"<br /> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 163px;"> +<img src="images/illus010.png" width="163" height="300" alt="Chipping Bird" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='poem'> +"Chip, chip, chipper!" How he sings,<br /> +As he comes for shreds and strings,<br /> +Which he is not slow to see,<br /> +From the budding lilac-tree!<br /> +Now with cunning, saucy pranks,<br /> +See him nod his hearty thanks:<br /> +"These are just the thing," sings he;<br /> +"Truly you are helping me!"<br /> +<br /> +"Chipper, chipper!" See him go;<br /> +Now 'tis fast, and now 'tis slow;<br /> +Working ever at the nest,<br /> +Never stopping once to rest;<br /> +Getting little straws and strings<br /> +For his good wife, while he sings,<br /> +"Chip, chip, chipper, gay are we;<br /> +See us in the lilac-tree!"<br /> +<br /> +"Chipper, chipper," all day long;<br /> +Thus I hear his tuneful song,<br /> +Meaning, as he flutters past,<br /> +Gayly warbling, working fast,<br /> +"I can't stop to talk to you;<br /> +I have got my work to do:<br /> +Chip, chip, chipper, clear the way;<br /> +We shall finish up to-day."<br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Annie A. Preston.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus011.png" width="500" height="378" alt="Fourth of July Morning" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>FOURTH OF JULY MORNING.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Mat</span>, Let, and Win are the names by which three little +sisters of my acquaintance are usually called. These are +nicknames, of course. Can you guess what their real names +are?</p> + +<p>Lest you should be too long about it, I will tell you: they +are Matilda, Letitia, and Winifred. Mat is the one standing +on the chair in the picture; Let is the one sitting on the +bed, with her left foot hanging down; and Win, the +youngest, is the one sitting up in bed.</p> + +<p>What is the cause of all this commotion? It is only four +o'clock in the morning; but Mat and Let have rushed into +Win's room to get a good view, out of her window, of the +men firing guns out on the green. It is the Fourth of +July.</p> + +<p>"Why do they wake us up so early with their bell-ringing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +their crackers, and guns?" said Let. "I hate the +Fourth of July!"</p> + +<p>"She talks like a rebel," said Win. "She must be put +in prison."</p> + +<p>"That is not a bad idea, Win," said Mat. "She hates +the Fourth of July, does she?—the birthday of the great +republic! She hates it!—the day that made us a nation."</p> + +<p>"Yes; and I hate the stars and stripes, and all this fuss +and noise, this smell of smoke, and firing of crackers," said +Let, showing a fist.</p> + +<p>"Jump up, Win, and help me arrest this rebel," said +Mat. "The country is lost if we allow such talk."</p> + +<p>The next minute, the three sisters were running about +the room,—Mat and Win trying to catch poor Let, and +thrust her into the closet, which was to be her prison. +Such a stamping, such an outcry, as there was!</p> + +<p>"What's all that racket there?" cried papa, at last, from +the foot of the stairs that led into his room underneath. +"Isn't there noise enough out of doors, without your shaking +the house over our heads?"</p> + +<p>"Let says she hates the Fourth of July, and the old flag," +cried Mat; "and we think she ought to be put in prison as +a rebel. We are trying to arrest her."</p> + +<p>"Go to bed, every one of you, you rogues!" said papa, +"or I will put you all in prison for breaking the peace,—Where's +my big whip, mother?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you where it is, papa," cried little Win.</p> + +<p>"Where, then, is it, you little darl—I mean you little +rogue?" said papa.</p> + +<p>"It is where Cinderella's glass slippers are," screamed +Win. "Ask the fairies where that is."</p> + +<p>What a scampering and laughing there was then!</p> + +<p>Papa made a pounding with his feet on the stairs, as if he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +were coming up in a great rage; but he and mamma were +laughing all the time, and so were Mat and Let,—all but +Win, and she kept a grave face.</p> + +<p>It was now almost five o'clock, and the three sisters made +up their minds that they would dress themselves, and go +out on the green to see the fun.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Emily Carter.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 347px;"> +<img src="images/illus013.png" width="347" height="325" alt="The Little Deserter" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>THE LITTLE DESERTER.</h2> + + +<div class='center'><br />FREDERICK.</div> + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">See</span> him on the apple-tree,<br /> +Looking down so bold and free!<br /> +Now that he his wings can show us,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>He pretends he does not know us.<br /> +<br /> +Ah, you rogue! are you aware<br /> +How deserters often fare?<br /> +Come, be good, and I'll not chide:<br /> +See, the door is open wide.<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br />BIRDIE.</div> + +<div class='poem3'> +Peep, peep, peep!<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br />CLARA.</div> + +<div class='poem'> +Were you not well treated by us?<br /> +Why, then, do you thus defy us?<br /> +Salad every morning early,<br /> +Crumbs of bread, and grains of barley,<br /> +Sugar, now and then a berry,<br /> +And in June a nice ripe cherry,—<br /> +These were yours; don't be ungrateful;<br /> +To desert us is too hateful.<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br />BIRDIE.</div> + +<div class='poem3'> +Peep, peep, peep!<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br />FREDERICK.</div> + +<div class='poem'> +Now 'tis pleasant all, and sunny,<br /> +Bees are busy making honey,<br /> +You can flit from bough to bough,<br /> +You can sing and twitter now:<br /> +Wait till winter comes, you rover,<br /> +Then your frolic will be over.<br /> +Cats are on the roof already:<br /> +Birdie, dear, come back to Freddy.<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br />BIRDIE.</div> + +<div class='poem3'> +Peep, peep, peep!<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='center'><br />CLARA.</div> + +<div class='poem'> +Peep and peep! What then, deserter?<br /> +Was there creature ever perter?<br /> +Mine you are; to me belong;<br /> +Me you owe each day a song.<br /> +Darling, here's your cage all clean;<br /> +Come, I say, and don't be mean;<br /> +Come, and be once more our pet,<br /> +And your fault we will forget.<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br />BIRDIE.</div> + +<div class='poem3'> +Peep, peep, peep! T'wee, t'wee, t'wee!<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br />PAPA.</div> + +<div class='poem'> +Ha! he takes his merry flight,<br /> +And the little bird is right.<br /> +No deserter, child, is he,<br /> +Who escapes to liberty.<br /> +Air and sun and open sky<br /> +Birdie likes, as you and I.<br /> +Paid to him is now your debt,<br /> +And I'm glad: so do not fret.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Ida Fay.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<h2>A FISH STORY.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Cousin Willie</span> lives on a pleasant island in Chesapeake +Bay. He has a boat called the "Nautilus." One morning +he was taking a sail in his boat, when he saw a large fish-hawk +soaring and wheeling through the air, as though in +search of a breakfast for its young nestlings. At length it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +made a dive down to the water, and brought up a large +fish.</p> + +<p>Just then an eagle that had been watching the fish-hawk +from the top of a tree, came swooping down toward the +hawk, as if determined to have the fish for his own breakfast.</p> + +<p>The eagle attacked the hawk; and the two birds fought +for the fish until the hawk was forced to let it drop, when +the eagle made a rapid swoop, and caught the fish in his +talons.</p> + +<p>Cousin Willie, from his boat, watched the fight of the +birds, and thought he would like to make the bold robber +give up his prey. So he shot at him with a pistol, and gave +him such a fright that he dropped the fish in his turn.</p> + +<p>Willie picked up the fish, took it home, and laid it upon +a table in the kitchen to be cooked for dinner. But a sly +old cat saw it on the table, and, as no one was near to +prevent, she grabbed it quickly, and stole away with it to +give herself and her kittens a breakfast.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +Thus the cunning puss and her kitties, you see,<br /> +Got the better of those brave fishers three.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Cousin Lucy.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 325px;"> +<img src="images/illus016.png" width="325" height="236" alt="Hawk" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus017.png" width="500" height="385" alt="Buttercup's Circus" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>BUTTERCUP'S CIRCUS.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Fred</span> and Bertie, two little black-eyed boys, were visiting +their Aunt Susan in a beautiful country village. The +large, old-fashioned house, under a giant elm-tree, was full +of wonders to them; but their greatest delights were in +driving the old gray horse, or feeding and petting an +Alderney calf which their Uncle Harry was raising.</p> + +<p>This "baby-cow," as little Bertie called her, was kept +away from its mother, old Clover, most of the day, and tied +to a cherry-tree in the side yard. The boys named her +Buttercup. They were allowed to feed her with meal and +water; and she soon grew so tame, that they could pat and +caress her as much as they pleased.</p> + +<p>One day Fred found an old saddle in the stable; and he +proposed to Bertie to help him put it on the calf, and have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +a ride the length of her rope. They succeeded in fastening +it upon Buttercup's smooth back; and Freddie exclaimed +with delight, "Now we will have a first-class circus!"</p> + +<p>They brought a chair from the house, and placed it by +the side of Miss Cow, she looking wonderingly at them with +great round eyes. The boys both stood together in the +chair, and Fred said, "Now I will count, and, when I say +<i>four</i>, we must spring upon the saddle. One—two—three—four;" +and on they went.</p> + +<p>But, before they could have said "<i>five</i>" Miss Buttercup's +heels were in the air, and her head went down so quickly, +that Master Fred felt a sudden chill, and found himself in a +tub of rain-water that stood under the eaves of the wood-shed; +while Bertie went head-foremost into a pan of meal +and water.</p> + +<p>A slight noise followed their fall. Their uncle and aunt +appeared. The saddle was sent back to the stable, and the +boys did not engage Buttercup for any more circus performances +that summer.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Mamma Maggie.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<h2>AT SEA.</h2> + + +<div class='right'> +<span class="smcap">Bark "Murray," Pacific Ocean</span>, December, 1876.<br /> +</div> + +<p><i>Dear Nursery</i>,—I am making a voyage, on a sailing +vessel from San Francisco to the Sandwich Islands. We +have been on the water for three weeks.</p> + +<p>Every day at noon, if the sun shines, the captain comes +up on deck with a queer thing in his hand, which he calls a +sextant. With this he looks at the sun, and finds out just +where on this great ocean we are, and just how far we have +gone in the last twenty-four hours. To-day he says we are +three hundred miles from Honolulu.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus019.png" width="500" height="376" alt="At Sea." title="" /> +</div> + +<p>There are twenty sails on this ship. I love to lie down +on deck, and look at them; and I think it is a beautiful sight +to see them all spread and filled with wind. It almost seems +as if their tops touched the sky. All the masts and sails +and ropes have names. I am sure it would take me a good +while to learn them; but all the sailors know them.</p> + +<p>When the captain wants a sail changed, he gives the +order in a very loud tone; then the first mate, who is never +very far from the captain, repeats the order; and then the +sailors run quickly to the ropes and pull away, and sing +while they pull; and the sail goes up or down, just as the +captain wants it.</p> + +<p>Every hour a sailor takes his turn at steering the ship: +so there is always one man at the wheel. There is a large +bell swung just in front of him, which he strikes every half-hour +to mark the time. When it is twelve o'clock, he strikes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +the bell eight times; and it is eight bells again at four +o'clock and at eight o'clock. The first hour after eight +bells is two bells; the second, four bells; the third, six +bells; and the half-hours strike the odd numbers,—three, +five, and seven bells. It is a very funny way to tell time, I +think.</p> + +<p>One day the captain slung a hammock on deck, and we +had a nice time swinging in it. Another day, when the sea +was very calm, he hung a rope from the rigging, and made +a real swing for us. We have long fish-lines which we +throw over the ship's side. Once a gentleman on board +caught a beautiful dolphin, all green and blue and gold. +The steward made a nice chowder out of the dolphin for our +lunch, and we had baked dolphin for dinner that day.</p> + +<p>Thanksgiving Eve a little lamb was born on board. The +sailors named it "Thanksgiving," for the day. It is a dear +little lamb now,—so white and gentle! We have tied a +blue ribbon around its neck, and it will run all over the +deck after us, and go to sleep in our laps. There is a cunning +little pig, too, which I call "Dennis," after the pig +that I read about in "The Nursery." I wish it were really +the same wonderful little pig; but mamma says she does +not think it can be.</p> + +<p>I must tell you about the beautiful bouquet the steward +made for our Thanksgiving dinner. It was made out of +vegetables with a knife—yellow roses from carrots, and +white roses, japonicas, and tuberoses from turnips and potatoes. +Some of the petals he dipped into beet-water, and so +made blush roses of them. Then he made two canary-birds +of carrots, and perched them among the flowers. Mamma +said that she had seen many a cluster of wax flowers that +were not as beautiful.</p> + +<p>Perhaps I will write again when we arrive at Honolulu.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Rose.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 351px;"> +<img src="images/illus021.png" width="351" height="500" alt="DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR." title="" /> +<span class="caption">DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.</span> +</div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<h2>SOLOMON AND THE TAME BEAR.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Uncle Reuben</span> was a farmer; and he had a great many +cattle, sheep, horses, pigs, geese, and turkeys, all of which, +you know, are usually found on a large farm; and, besides +these, he had one animal not usually found on a farm, and +that was a tame bear. He hired a large boy to do the +"chores," as the easy part of farm-work is called; and this +boy's name was Solomon Sturtevant.</p> + +<p>Now, although the bear was tame, he was kept chained; +for there was no knowing what mischief even a tame bear +might take it into his head to do. He might take a notion +to find out how a nice tender pig would taste.</p> + +<p>Solomon thought it fine sport to tease the bear, and there +was one way of doing it more amusing than any other, and +that was to pelt him with green chestnut-burs.</p> + +<p>Chestnut-burs, you know, are covered with sharp thorns; +and yet the bear, being very fond of chestnuts, would try to +get at the nuts which he knew were in them,—snarling +and whining, and making up very comical faces, because the +burs pricked his mouth.</p> + +<p>Solomon would stand and watch him, and think it fine +fun. But he came near doing it once too often; for +one day, when he had carried the bear a capful of burs, +intending to have a good laugh at him, the chain that held +the bear was not fastened as firmly as usual. After trying +two or three burs, the bear made a spring toward Solomon, +got loose from his chain, and started after him in earnest.</p> + +<p>Solomon was not long in deciding that he had something +to do <i>that</i> time besides laughing, and started in a hurry to +get out of the bear's way. Now there was a ladder leaning +against the side of the barn close by, and Solomon thought +that if he went up on the barn-roof he would be all right.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus023.png" width="500" height="377" alt="Bear on the ladder" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>No such thing. The bear went right up the ladder after +him. Then Solomon ran up the roof to the ridge; but +the bear followed. Solomon ran down the other side of the +roof, and so did the bear. Solomon jumped down to +the cow-house, and still the bear followed him. Then Solomon +jumped on to a shed that was close by the cow-house, +and the bear jumped too.</p> + +<p>Solomon now began to think that his time had come. +He gave one more jump from the shed to the ground. +This was too much of a jump for the bear to take, and so +Solomon made good his escape.</p> + +<p>I do not remember how the bear got down; but I am +sure, that, when he did, Solomon did not care to feed him +any more with green chestnut-burs. I think Solomon was +too glad to escape a hugging to try it very soon again.</p> + +<p>This is a true story.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Aunt Em.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus024.png" width="400" height="273" alt="At Dinner" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>AT DINNER.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">My</span> little kittens, here, you see,<br /> +Are just as good as they can be;<br /> +Not often do three children dine,<br /> +Who are as well-behaved as mine.<br /> +<br /> +I've taught them how to be polite,<br /> +To keep their bibs all clean and white,<br /> +To say, "Mee-oo" for "If you please,"<br /> +And never to be cross, or tease.<br /> +<br /> +My darlings, Muff and Puff and Fluff,<br /> +Stop always when they've had enough:<br /> +They never come unwashed or late,<br /> +They never crowd or push the plate.<br /> +<br /> +My care has not been vainly spent;<br /> +That's why I purr with such content;<br /> +For I'm the milk-white puss, you know,<br /> +That sits close by—their mother—<span class="smcap">Snow</span>.<br /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus025.png" width="500" height="353" alt="Sixth Lesson in Astronomy" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>SIXTH LESSON IN ASTRONOMY.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Did</span> you ever hear of a great bear and a little bear made +of stars? And a big dog? And a lion? If you never +did, I suppose you would like to be told where they are,—such +astonishing things as animals made of stars. But, if +you think a minute, you will see that every thing that has +any thing to do with stars must be up in the sky.</p> + +<p>Now this very night, if the stars come out before you +go to bed, I want you to look for the Great Bear. It is not +a real bear, of course; but it is a kind of picture of a bear. +I wish it could growl, to give you an idea where it is, +because, it really looks so little like a bear, it is very hard to +find. It is nearly overhead now; but you needn't be a bit +frightened. The Great Bear has never been known to drop +down on little girls and boys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p>There is a funny thing about this bear. Part of him is a +big dipper, and I think you will find him out by that. If +you can find the seven bright stars in the shape of a dipper, +you have found the bear's tail and a part of his body.</p> + +<p>And now I want to tell you how it happens that these +stars are called the Great Bear. If you look up in the sky +some bright starlight night, you will see there a good many +different figures, in stars; and a long time ago, people gave +names to these figures. To one of them they gave the +name of the Great Bear; to another, the Little Bear; to +another, the Great Dog; and so on. These different star-figures +are called constellations. They really look very +little like the things they are named for: so I can't expect +you to find them without help.</p> + +<p>Now, it is very convenient to have the stars divided up +in this way. When I asked you to find the red star last +winter, it would have been a great help to you if I had told +you what constellation it was in; but you might not have +known what I meant by a constellation.</p> + +<p>I had so many pleasant letters about that red star, I am +going to ask you to write again when you find the Great +Bear, although I suppose most of you are abed and asleep +before he comes out for the night. He will appear earlier +when the days are shorter, and I do not believe he can +escape all your bright eyes. But I should advise you to ask +some one who knows where he is to point him out to you.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +M. E. R.<br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/illus026.png" width="250" height="148" alt="Lilies of the Valley" title="" /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 324px;"> +<img src="images/illus027.png" width="324" height="400" alt="Teddy's Kitten" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>TEDDY'S KITTEN.</h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">To</span> let the kitten lie and sleep<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is something Teddy cannot do;</span><br /> +Like caterpillar in a heap,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She'd like to curl the whole day through,</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">If Teddy did but want her to.</span><br /> +<br /> +I wonder if she understands,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How just the look of her soft fur</span><br /> +So tempts his little roguish hands<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He cannot keep away from her:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He says he wants "to hear her purr!"</span><br /> +<br /> +And, if he does, 'tis well enough;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But then, why does he rub the way</span><br /> +To make her silky coat look rough?—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That coat of shining silver-gray,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So washed and polished every day?</span><br /> +<br /> +Why is it that he loves so much<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To tickle the unconscious paws</span><br /> +With just a finger tip or touch,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or open them to find the claws?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>His</i> reason for it is, "Because!"</span><br /> +<br /> +When Teddy sometime wanted rest,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What if a giant came and sat</span><br /> +Beside him when he slept the best,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And rolled him this way, rubbed him that,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And teased him, as he does the cat?</span><br /> +<br /> +Do you believe he'd smile and blink,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And bear the teasing patiently?</span><br /> +I think he'd wink a sleepy wink,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And say, not over pleasantly,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"O giant, please to let me be!"</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 242px;"> +<img src="images/illus029.png" width="242" height="300" alt="Pictures for Mary" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>PICTURES FOR MARY.</h2> + +<div class='story'> +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> little Jack Horner +was eating pie, he put in his +thumb, and pulled out a plum. +When Mary's mother reads to +her out of a book, the little girl +acts a good deal like Jack.</p> + +<p>She puts out her finger, and +points to the pictures. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +thinks them the best part of +the book. They are her plums.</p> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 241px;"> +<img src="images/illus030.png" width="241" height="300" alt="Picture of cows" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='story'> +<p>If Mary calls out, "Moo-o-o," +you may know that she sees a +picture of cows. Here is the +very one she +found a day +or two ago. +In it you see +two cows,—a +big one and +a little one. +The big cow +is standing +up, and the +little cow is lying beside her.</p> + +<p>The little cow has no horns. +Mary calls it "a little cow," +because it looks too old to be +called a calf.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>Here is the very picture that +Mary was looking at when she +called out, "Ba-a-a!"</p></div> +<div class="figright" style="width: 242px;"> +<img src="images/illus031.png" width="242" height="300" alt="Sheep" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='story'> +<p>How many sheep do you see +in it? There are two lying +down: there +is one standing +up: that +makes three. +Is that all?</p> + + +<p>Look very +sharp. See +if you can't +find more of +them. Mary +found some straying about on +the hills. She thought she +could see lambs too; but sheep, +when a long way off, look very +much like lambs.</p> +</div> +<div class='sig'> +A. B. C.<br /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>THE CHAMOIS.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> chamois is a sort of antelope. But first let us say +something of the pronunciation of this word <i>chamois</i>. It +is often pronounced as if it were spelled <i>sham´my</i>. This is, +perhaps, the easiest mode. But it would be nearer to the +French mode to pronounce it <i>sham-wah</i>, the last <i>a</i> having +the sound of <i>a</i> in <i>wall</i>.</p> + +<p>The family of antelopes consists of nearly seventy species, +upward of fifty being found nowhere but in Africa. The +whole of America, North and South, contains but one +species. All the antelopes have a most delicate sense of +smell, and few quadrupeds can equal them in fleetness. +They will outrun the swiftest greyhounds.</p> + +<p>The antelopes live in herds, and are very careful not to +be surprised: so they place sentinels to watch, and give +alarm. The eye, large and brilliant, is a marked feature of +the tribe. The word "antelope" signifies "bright eyes."</p> + +<p>Our picture shows us several young chamois, standing +amid the crags and chasms and precipices which they +delight in. A chamois can descend in two or three leaps +a rock of twenty or thirty feet, without the smallest projection +on which to rest.</p> + +<p>The horns of the full-grown chamois are quite black and +smooth, and formed like a perfect hook with very sharp +points. These elegant creatures are the only animals of +the antelope kind to be found in Western Europe. They +choose for their home the loftiest mountains.</p> + +<p>They dislike heat, and in the summer time they frequent +the cold upper regions of the everlasting hills,—either the +lofty peaks, or those valleys where the snow never melts. +In the winter time, however, the cold of those bleak solitudes +seems too much for them, spite of their long, hair and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +thick coat of fine wool; and they descend to the lower +regions. It is then, and only then, that the hunter has any +chance of capturing them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus033.png" width="500" height="465" alt="Chamois" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>It is said they can scent a man a mile and a half off; and +their restlessness and suspicion are extreme. At the prospect +of danger they are off and away, racing at an incredible +speed, scaling crags with the most amazing agility, and +leaving the pursuer far behind.</p> + +<p>They are usually taken by a party of hunters, who surround +the glen where they are, and advance towards each +other until the herd is hemmed in on all sides.</p> + +<p>The flesh of the antelope is like venison. No animal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +ought to yield sweeter meat than the chamois, when we +think what he feeds upon. Mountain herbs and flowers, +and tender shoots from tree and shrub—such is his food. +He drinks very little, but that little is sparkling water; +while the air which reddens his blood is the purest in the +world.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Uncle Charles.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<h2>THE GARDEN TOOLS.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 218px;"> +<img src="images/illus034.png" width="218" height="250" alt="Garden tools" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='poem'> +<span class="smcap">Come</span>, hoe and shovel and rake,<br /> +From your winter nap awake!<br /> +The spring has come;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There's work to be done:</span><br /> +The birds are calling,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And off I must run</span><br /> +My little garden to make.<br /> +<br /> +You have lain in the attic so long,<br /> +Perhaps you forget you belong<br /> +In the sunshine and air full half of the year;<br /> +And to leave you to mice and to cobwebs up here<br /> +Any longer would surely be wrong.<br /> +<br /> +Come out of the darkness to light,<br /> +Where the sunbeams are glittering bright,<br /> +And the green grass is growing;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For I must be hoeing,</span><br /> +And digging the earth, and my seeds be a-sowing,<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And finish it all before night.</span><br /> +<br /> +Oh, how I hurried and dressed!<br /> +For the robin was building his nest,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And he cried, "Fie! For shame!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What is the boy's name,</span><br /> +Who sleeps in the morning? He's surely to blame<br /> +For not working here with the rest."<br /> +<br /> +Come then, rake, shovel, and hoe,<br /> +With a run and a jump, here we go!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Soon so busy we'll be,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That the robins shall see,</span><br /> +For all their fine words, they're no smarter than we,<br /> +As off to the garden we go!<br /> +</div> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Auntie Frank.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/illus035.png" width="250" height="300" alt="Boy with tools" title="" /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 139px;"><img src="images/divider1.png" width="139" height="19" alt="Divider" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/illus036.png" width="300" height="197" alt="WHAT DOES LITTLE BIRDIE SAY?" title="" /> +</div><h2>WHAT DOES LITTLE BIRDIE SAY?</h2> + +<p> +Words by <span class="smcap">Tennyson</span>.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus036-music.png" width="500" height="558" alt="Music" title="" /> +</div> +<div class="center"><small>[<i>Transcriber's Note: You can play this music (MIDI file) by clicking</i> <a href="music/july77.mid">here</a>.]</small><br /><br /></div> +<div class='poem'> +1. What does little birdie say<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In her nest at peep of day?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let me fly says little birdie,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mother let me fly away.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Birdie wait a little longer</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till the little wings are stronger.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So she rests a little longer,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then she flies away.</span><br /> +<br /> +2. What does little baby say<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In her bed at peep of day?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Baby says like little birdie.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let me rise and fly away.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Baby sleep a little longer</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till the little limbs are stronger.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If she sleeps a little longer,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">She shall fly away.</span><br /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3> +<p>The July edition of the Nursery had a table of contents for the next +six issues of the year. This table was divided to cover each specific +issue. The issue number added after the Volume number on the title page.</p> +<p>On the midi, second to last bar, bass staff, last chord, B-natural +changed to B-flat.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, July 1877, XXII. No. 1, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NURSERY, JULY 1877 *** + +***** This file should be named 28135-h.htm or 28135-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/1/3/28135/ + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. 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