N "-50 IT NC EE vu mo 0 $0 7 “huh-Mun“ 21!. | Fifi "‘3": 51w ;: 22311:" ’ ’ a . . \ a, - .._ ' ' ‘7 I j. ‘_ I - - ,. -r - . - ‘ I r. _ ' \ T ..- v '7 Q ~ > h ‘ 7‘ :v 'v“ ,‘ >7 . _\- . ' I . _ 7". - " 1 - n , _ .- i :‘- . .- ' . \ ' - ' '7 '\ ‘L' o " J'TQH‘T W“ In it: . ‘v .-y a“ r" 4 f. v 3. _.» h a. ‘ has-uh . 5 . . ._ r . w ..‘ . _ Lu: . flax,“ - .. val, , w 7 .r . ‘ . H 7 . ‘ Qwkuhv w . ‘l. ‘.-‘1. I‘ v . A\‘.‘.Ir\.ni1,.| “n _ PIRESIDE ANNUAL: ILLUSTRATED STORIES AND POEMS FOR LITTLE PEOPLE. WITH ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS. NEW YORK.- THE H. M. CALDWELL CO. PUBLISHERS Uflvenilc DDHBCUOH Copyright, 1885, 1886, 1887, BY RUSSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY. vi/ééé 544M .2 if. an I7/ THE PET SEAL. A GREAT many seals are killed every year for their soft, fine fur. Among the Shetland Islands the people used to think that harm would come to any one who killed a seal. A number of these animals were caught and tamed. One was a very large fellow. Two men could hardly manage him. He was soon tamed, and had a shed for his home. Every day he would go to the sea for food, and return to the land when his master called him. At the house of his owner lived a dear little baby boy. One day baby’s mother rocked him to sleep and laid him in his little bed. Then she went out, leaving the door open, so that she might hear him if he awoke. He did not awake; but after a while mamma came into the room again. There was the great seal close to baby’s cot, looking into his face just as if he would like to kiss him. Mamma was frightened, and screamed. Then the seal’s master came and ordered him out. He floundered away to his shed. The seal would not have hurt the baby. Seals are very loving creatures. ‘ JULIA A. TIRRELL. TIM’S JUMP. TIM WILKINS went to school in a little red school-house. It had a flat roof and a greatlstone chimney. One day in Winter there came a deep snow, very light and very soft. Great drifts were piled up all about the ,' school-house. They were so high that the very little scholars had to get up on the benches to see over them through the Windows. At noontime and the home the teacher big boys went to dinner. Some of the small boys stayed to eat apples and beechnuts around the glowing hearth. After a time they grew restless, and, putting on mit- tens and little coats, ran out into the snow. They tumbled each other over and over, till they all looked like small snow-men. Then Tim crawled up over the biggest drift,which reached nearly to the eaves, and got up on the roof of the school-house. How the boys TIJI’S JUMP. did cheer, wave their fur caps, and stamp at this act of bra- ver): ! “um I! v Tim wanted to show 4; ' 4 new "W, ’10,, . “kl: . “I l . ““'l\|| ll [‘1' Ml" I I m "we. - i I the other boys that it “MW 43,“. was nothing to What a' " he dared do. Edging along to where the drifts fell off a few feet, he swung his arms around his head, shouted merrily, and then gave a Ks. plunge! - Foolish Tim! Down he went into the soft, light snow, down, down, down! out of sight— out of sound almost. There he stuck fast. The little boys crept up to i the hole and shouted to him to climb out. But the more he tried to do so the deeper he sank in the snow. Then they got sticks and the fire-shovel, and tried in vain to dig him out. ‘ But by and by the teacher came, and Tim was pulled up out of the snow-drift. He looked very cold and scared, and sat in the teacher’s chair before the fire, where he soon fell asleep. I think little Tim will be; careful Where he leaps hereaf-i ter. Don’t you? CHRISTINE STEPHENS. SUSPEND a sheet across the room, And place a lamp not far behind it; 4 Yes, we must sit here in the gloom, ' But we are grown-up and shall not mind it; Now pass between the sheet and light, And see if we shall guess aright. First comes Louise, with merry smile,— We’d know our darling in a minute; . Now Jack draws past, in prince- ly style, The carriage with the baby in it; And here is Jim, with sword and gun, -— Why, we can guess you every one! “ COONIE.” But who is this, in cap and frill, With grandpa’s clumsy, big umbrella? It is not May; it must be Lil,— No, two stray curls announce ’tis Ella; Ah, now our frolic’s well begun! Guessing at shadows is rare fun. EMMA C. DOWD. “COONIE.” A Moon: was perfectly happy. She had reached grandpa’s at last. As she sat before the fire, munching an apple, she \\ a I heard a soft, purring sound behind her. - ll'g “ o kittie 1 " she said, turning hasti- é 1y, for she and the great white cat > 7Lwere old friends. But, instead of the cat, there stood beside her a creature so strange that Modie cried “Oh!” very loud. “What is the mat- ter?” asked grandma, I coming into the room . just then. . . ' \s. - l A " l l 3 ‘ 'hl'fillil'llhmul um I “A - I H ‘11"! H !‘ \\_\ \\ ix: i ! .y . .1 ‘8“ /, \\ olef-e_ gym ebb 4/ | . V i -. 7- -; .1: I A: \ T“ .l,\ T >_- / , W \‘ “i \ i .\ \ \ \D\\- \_ \\\\ \ . . “ “ UOONIE.” Modie said nothing, but pointed to the funny creature beside her. “That is a raccoon,” said grandma, laughing; “he will not hurt you. He’s kind and gentle. Give him some of your apple. His name is‘Coonie.”’ Modie held toward “Coonie” a tempting piece of the fruit. He took it in his funny little paws, which looked as though they were covered with fine 1 black gloves. He ‘ then sat up on his hind legs, like a squirrel, until the apple was eaten. Then he jumped into Modie’s lap, purring softly while she smoothed his soft, black fur. Later in the day ' Modie found him in the kitchen, stand— ing on his hind legs before the milk- safe. He was turn- ing the button on the door, with his naughty black paws. He meant to have a fine feast of milk. He was a sad thief. Modie soon found that if she watched all “Coonie’s” pickings she would have enough to do. One day he climbed up on a chair and snatched a loaf of breadfrom the table, Modie saw him backing down the steps of the kitchen porch with the loaf hugged up to him under one of his fore-legs. Another time Modie found him carrying off in the same way a large and sharp butcher-knife. One day he followed her to one of the neighbors. The lady took down the box! to give him a cake. As she bent over him with the box “ Ooonie” jumped at it and pulled it to the floor. Seating himself in it, he ate his fill, growling and showing his teeth if any one, even Modie, came near him. Af- ter that “Ooonie” was left at home. But he had one excellent trait. He would not come into the house until he had carefully licked his feet clean. He would sit on the door- step and make him- self very neat. Then he would shake his head and rattle the little silver bell which hung about his neck. This was his way of saying “ Let me in, please “ GOONIE.” it was evening “Coonie” would curl up in a little black heap beneath grandpa’s chair. There he would lie, purring, until he was put out in the wood-shed, at bedtime. CLARA J. DENTON. A BAD NEIGHBOR. THE next time you go to Africa, my dears, be sure to bring me back a lepidosiren, will you? I am very anxious to have one. Lep— i-do—si-ren. Can’t you say that? Well, it is rather a hard word. You may call it mud-fish instead, if you like that better, though I am not sure that it is a fish. There is a difference of opinion on the subject of this creature. One very learned man, with green spectacles, calls it a fish; another, whose spectacles are blue (and Who is bald besides, having thought all the hair off his head), vows that it is a reptile. Now, I don’t wear spectacles, and I am not bald, —so really I cannot pretend to decide the matter; but suppose you and I just please ourselves, and call it the mud-fish, whether or no. There is some reason for that name, because at home it lives in the -— “ Mud! ” says Billy. Quite so. What an intelligent child you are, William ! But now about finding one for me. When you are in Africa, as I was saying, and in some very hot place,-—say in Timbuc~ too, where your Uncle Simon lives, -—you must know how to look for the mud-fish. If it is in the rainy season it will be easy enough to find him, for he is swimming about, like any other fish, in that pretty little river which flows near your uncle’s house. But in the hot season it will be harder to find him. The river is dried up then ; there is not a drop of water; the reeds and rushes that were once so fresh and green are withered and dry, and even the mud of the river-bed is baked into a hard, stony flooring, which looks as if it had'never known a drop of moisture. Surely no living creature can be here, save such as can live on land. Not so fast ! Take your spade and dig up carefully some of this hard-baked earth. Dig deeper! “carefully now; sPread A BAD NEIGHBOR. out the earth you have dug up. Ah ! what is that queer-looking lump from which the dry earth falls away? That is what you have been looking for. That is Mr. Mud-fish’s cocoon, and Mr. Mud-fish is com- fortably asleep inside it. You see he knew well enough what to do -' e s when he found the water was all drying up around him. He wriggled his way deep, deep down in- \- to the m u d , his eyes b e ing s0 con- veniently, made that the wet soil does not hurt them. When he has gone deep enough he curls himself round, and wraps his tail round his head by way of a nightcap. Then he brings out of his body a quantity of a smooth, slimy substance, which he carries somewhere about him, and with this he plasters the inside of the mud-cell in which he is, lying, making it all smooth, and binding the particles of earth together so that there is no danger of their cracking apart from the heat. Having done this thoroughly, Mr. Mud-fish goes to sleep, and he sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps; and never wakes up until the rains have come again, and the welcome drops, sinking down through the softening mud, loosen the walls of his cell and let him out again. If you were to put one of these earthy cocoons into a tub of water it would fall to pieces at once, and you would see the sleeper A BAD NEIGHBOR. with his tail wrapped round his head, just as I have told you. At first he would be very stupid and sleepy, but after a time he would wake up; and if he Should live and do well you would find him as curious a creature in his waking as in his sleeping hours. Did you say your Uncle Simon had an aquarium? That is very fortunate, for now you can watch all the queer ways of the mud—fish. Take a small piece of raw meat in your hand, and make a splash- ing in the water with your finger. He will rise slowly, snatch the meat away, and go down to the bottom to eat it. Now watch him as he eats it. He takes the very tip of it between his sharp teeth, and gives it a tremendous bite, seeming to bite with his whole head; then he sucks it in a little farther, and gives it another bite; this he does again and again, till he has bitten through the whole length of the piece. Then, if you please, he shoots it out of his mouth, catches it by the tip again, and bites it all over again, and then again. Three times he goes throughthis singular process, and then, with a quick jerk, he swallows the meat. He will always do this, every time you feed him, and will never swallow the food until he has chewed it all three times. It is a very good thing to chew one’s food thoroughly, but I do not recommend this way of doing it for anybody except a mud-fish. Oh! oh! I forgot to tell you that you must not keep him with other fish, but in a separate part of the aquarium, for he has very cruel and unmannerly ways. He will swim quietly up under an- other fish till he is quite close to him; then, with a quick dart, he will seize the poor creature, and bite a great piece right out of him, his strong, sharp teeth cutting through scales, flesh, and bones. He never takes more than one bite out of each fish, but takes his morsel down to chew, and leaves the poor victim bleeding and dying in misery. That is why I have called him a “bad neighbor,” and it is a good name for him, for, say what you will, a good neighbor does not bite. THE BROKEN BOWL. HOWARD was about ten years old. He was generally a good boy, and he tried to be a brave boy. But he was a coward about one thing. He was not afraid of the dark, nor of being naughty; but he was afraid of being punished. If he did anything wrong, he did not tell of it, but waited to be found out. He had a big dog, named Nero. Nero was very fond of Howard, and would let no one touch him to harm him. Howard’s mother had a beautiful blue china bowl. It stood in her par- lor, on a table. It cost a great deal of money, and she was very fond of it. One day, while she was out, How- ard was in the parlor playing with his ball. He should not have been playing there, ' 'i and he knew it. He thought noth- ing would happen. But something did happen. He tossed his ball up, but did not catch it when it fell. The bowl did catch it and was broken in pieces. Howard was so frightened he ran out of the room, with- out stopping to shut the door. He played in the yard for a little ‘while, and tried to forget, but could not. He knew he ought to tell / ~ ’ 'l. ' ' " THE BROIL'EN BOWL. ’ I V ' . Wt. jllsij DN his mother as soon as she came home; but he was afraid. He knew " she would be displeased and punish him. Pretty soon he went back into the house. Nero was not with Howard." He liked so much to » v lie on the soft parlor" carpet, that when Howard ran out, leaving the - -- door open, he went in and laid down. When Howard’s mother came ' 1‘ home and found 'the dog in the room with the pieces of the bowl, of ‘ ~~ ' course she thought he had broken it. > < . . . l . ’ ’ "-/ L ’ ' ’ ’ . J THE YOUNG NATURALIST. “O you bad dog!” she said; “I shall whip you for this!” She went into the hall for a little whip that was there. Howard stood by the door. “ What are you going to do, mamma ? ” he asked. “ I’m going to whip Nero,” she said ; “ he has broken my bowl.” Howard followed his mother into the parlor. Nero looked very sad when he saw the whip. Then Howard grew very brave, for he could not let Nero be whipped. “ Don’t, mamma,” he said, catching her hand; ,“ Nero did not do it; I did ! ” Howard had to stay all day in his room, and have nothing but bread and water for dinner and tea; but he was very glad he had not let Nero be punished. ANNA M. TALCOTT. THE YOUNG NATURALIST. uITTLE Edna Hayes is so fond of animals, birds, and insects, that her father often calls her his little naturalist. While her playmates are busy with their dolls she can often be seen wandering alone in the garden or orchard, trying to find some new kind of insect to add to her store. She has a place in one corner of the yard where she keeps her strange little pets, and there she makes little houses for them, and the oddest little beds, and does all she can to make them live. But there was one time when her love for these little creatures got her into trouble. It was just at twilight. Edna was standing by the window when she saw something creeping along on the wire screen. She thought THE YOUNG NATURALIST. it must be a large fly, or perhaps a grasshopper trying to find his grassy nest, that he might go to sleep. “Poor little thing!” she said. “You must have got lost. I will take you to my house in the yard and give you a bed.” I She reached up and took it in her little hand. Alas! what could be the matter? Such screaming and dancing about was really frightful. Mamma hurried to light the gas, the children came running in from their play, and papa hastened in from the yard to see what could be the cause of such an unusual noise. “ He hit me! He bit me!” was all little Edna could say; and this she kept repeating as she tossed her hand wildly about. On searching for it the little creat- ure was found on the floor near the window. It was a wasp. Edna is still as fond of insects as ever, but she is more careful about taking them in her hands, unless she knows them to be such as are harmless. H. L. CHARLES. THE ORPHAN TURKEYS. A TRUE STORY. TWENTY-Two little turkeys Were hatched by two hens, And, one by one, some of them Came to bad ends; Till only six turkeys ' Were shivering with cold. The old hens had weaned them When scarce a month old. And now, when the rain comes, Oh, where can they go,— Each disconsolate turkey, The picture of woe? It was time for a venture, So the poor little things Orept up for a shelter ’Neath the old rooster’s wings. That old Brahma rooster Didn’t say, “What a fix!” But with his broad wings He sheltered all six. THE ORPHAN TURKE Y/S'. And not only then, But the next rainy day, He sheltered them all In the same friendly way. The farmer’s wife saw it, I fully intended And said, “I declare, To take ofi your head; Kind-hearted old fellow! But those two old hens Your life I will spare. Shall lose theirs instead.” My dear little children, You always will find, With folks or with fowls, It pays to be kind. MRS. H. E. JENKINS- .0. .u...\. I .. h. .s v .. Chi-Y. . .. a. A. . f; ..r, M... an...“ ...... MM 6 - - .. H r . m . ma 0 .mm . . 0 .m u h h . _. h h 0 e LWUw PM. .. W W yh mo 6 . e.. v. Q t. W from I . as ch .m a l . . . d m in S a u m S mm ..:.. A t mm, 0m m . Wm MWCW ..m_..-&,. M V a h S. 6 .m PI m t u to 1m h 0 0 Bl G e S T Wu S O m E Wm one d1mw w . I. n V 1K WW e: % mm 1% fl was 1m W e a 1% U m m1 e” a G G .snV m b ? s e t a g F .m s w s n n _ b m 6. G l w t _......_@.t m nbasmla 1:1 a S .1 .e 7 0 e M ch 1m. w .m W . r w H e a. w m mm G d m t h. m m e a t s a .b m e e u m .... Ooh r bum “In . W n u 2 .B a . m e m S W M u 1% . .m a e o B u a a t . o G mm W a Qnc n 5... 0J a. .. -0 ONE OF GUSSIE’S MISHAPS. “Anyhow,” thought the child, “if they don’t hurt Aunt Madge they won’t hurt me.” “I am afraid to take you, Gussie,” said mamma; “ you are certain to get into some mischief.” “ I will be so careful, mamma,” said Gussie, in such pleading tones that mamma finally consented. So that afternoon Gussie was dressed in her best dress and new shoes, to her great de- light, and went to “aunt- ie’s house” with papa and mamma. Gussie was at first very careful. She went demurely with young Mr. Blake to look at the new kittens all curled up in the hay, and the little white calf. ’ After tea, however, she forgot herself, and had a frolic with Rover. Rover was a great black New- foundland dog. Both he and Gussie enjoyed their romp very much. Katrina, who was washing dishes in the kitchen, suddenly heard a scream from the barn- yard. Dropping her towel she hurried out. Alas, poor Gussie! In auntie’s barn-yard there was a sink-hole. It was not a very deep one, fortunately for Gussie. But it was deep enough to come up to her chin when she stood on her toes. - Katrina pulled her out, sputtering and scolding as she did so. By that time the rest of the household reached the scene. “She will have to go to bed,” said auntie, “ and her clothes be put in water. You can send her some clean ones in the morn- ' )7 mg. ONE OF GUSSIE’S MISHAPS. ‘-.. So poor Gussie was sent to bed, when it was still daylight. Auntie brought a large book of pictures to amuse her, and then went downstairs. When auntie went to bed that night she looked in to see if Gussie was all right. She found the child sitting up in bed, her cheeks very red, and her eyes full of tears. “O auntie!” said she, “I was hoping you’d come, I’m so afraid.” “Why, dear child,” said auntie, sitting down on the bed and drawing Gussie close to her, “there is nothing to be afraid of. What were you dreaming of?” Gussie hesitated a moment; then, lifting her head from auntie’s shoulderz— , I “ You told about students in your letter, auntie,——what is stu- dents ?” Aunt Madge, to Gussie’s surprise, burst out laughing. Then she explained. When Gussie knew that auntie had some young men boarding with her, who went to school just as Gussie did herself, she laughed too. Next morning Gussie had her breakfast in bed, for her clothes had not come. “ Just as if I was sick,” thought the child, as she nibbled her slice of toast and ate a fresh egg. Gussie was pretty tired of playing invalid before papa came with her clean clothes. He was going a few miles beyond on business, and would stop for Gussie on his way back. MRS. I. A. THRESHEB. STAR OF THE EVENING. Music by T. CRAMPTON. VOICE. Andante espress. cresc. > ' A: gap 1“ E r ’ ‘ 4“ j m‘ ’ h A‘ A h V * 43,3! :3_ Ill: Jfi—j— = A i I A WIT : IL — I - o -d- ' 4- - ' 11f ' 1. Star of the eve - ning, Shin - ing on high, Queen of the beau - ti -fui 2. Eyes that are watch -ing, Gaze up - on thee; Eyes that are anx- ious-ly 3. Day - star of glad - ness, When o‘er the skies, Tem - pests and dark-mess sweep, PIANO. - J. .3 i - ‘—'r—\ 1:! J ' IL ti 2’ If: a a n j I 7 i _ [(4 T“ |-'~ i n 44- if f) . 79 n . A . 07.680) J ' h“ ’l J LI“ l] J. l‘ i‘di“ I; t [3 .l’ i‘ j. I =' - d n . l. i . ,- . U V.“ 1 1 ' ' i 1 ! Gem 01' the sky. Light of the trav - el- er, Long-ing for rest, Ev- er-more Watch-ing for me. Light of the wan- der-er, Ev - er - more thine, Smiling I Do thou a - rise. And when faith fail - eth us, Light of the blest, Shine on our A /___\ A- _. . .-p~- . ‘13- F P. 1‘. =Tjn,_-~‘. _. -.' - . F i . e " P I f ! I. l ' j l r' f 19 \_-__/ peace - ful - 1y Glow in the west. gaze on thee, Smile thou on mine. Star of the eve - ning, Shin-ing on wan - der- ings, Guide us to rest. A high, Queen of the beau-ti-ful, Gem of the sky. - . ~;‘ ! .1.- II - l )1 v I THE MOUSE GETS A OOOKY. PONTO, the spotted dog, came trotting into the field behind the barn. He held in his mouth a fine bit of cooky which the baby gave him. As he ran, he growled to himself, “ I do wish babies ate bones instead of cake. I am tired of cookies- I will hide this till to-morrow.” '91 The wise old mouse just then, seeing the grass heard the dog, and he thought the cooky would be nice. So he squeaked, “ Do you want a bone, Ponto ? ” “ Yes; have you got barked the dog. the dog fairy has one for you,” was This pleased Ponto. He had heard of the dog fairy. He thought bone must be very sweet indeed. he should be thankful for one. was in the field the reply. n e v e r a fairy Sohe said THE MOUSE GETS A COOKIE. The mouse squeaked to him to run around three times in a circle; then he was to lie down in the grass, and shut his eyes for three minutes; then he could open them, and look for the bone. Ponto at once dropped the cooky. He ran around and around after his tail ever so many times. Then he laid down and shut his eyes. After a while he jumped up again. But there was no bone. And the cooky was gone ! The wise old mouse had carried it off to his children. Ponto was puzzled. “I must have turned around too many times,” he snarled. Ever since then some dogs have a habit of walking! about in a circle before they lie down in the grass. Perhaps they are thinking of the fairy bone. Whenever an educated mouse sees a dog going about in this way he laughs in his sleeve. UNCLE FELIX. ,.J'- v n; ., war . .'~- i W . I“. . \’f’ '-7. ‘ Jr: '5 'q p L THE EMPTY NEST. swmg, 7 t used to i e e r lw m m. m 1 W. w 1 1% do t. u r O .m b e H u .m .in m o 1m h u n O r. f 0 WE T hree, s W ing its babies t ther Softly rock ing. , \ OHIO Nestled under th . ‘4" THE EMPTY NEST. This is a leaf, all shrivelled and dry, That once was a canopy overhead; Doesn’t it almost make you cry To look at the poor, little, empty bed? All the birdies have flown away: Birds must fly, or they wouldn’t have wings; Don’t you hope they’ll come back some day ?— Nests without birdies are lonesome things. Deep in the mother’s listening heart Drops the prattle with sudden sting, For lips may quiver and tears may start; But birds must fly, or they wouldn’t have wings. EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER. THE WAX DOLLAR. WHEN Grandma Babcock went to visit Aunt Ada she took Trotty with her. Trot- ty was three years old, and was very fond of good things. She found out very soon that there was a grocery and provision store _ near the house where Aunt Ada. lived. In front of the store hung two big bunches of bananas. Trotty liked bana- nas very much. One day, when Trotty was playing out on the front steps, her aunt, who was very fond of her, leaned out of the window and threw down a. little package. “ There, Trotty,” she said, “go and buy a banana.” Trotty unwrapped the package and found two cents. She went to the store feeling as if she had grown to be a very big girl. ‘ After that she wanted to go every day to. get bananas, and she soon spent all the pennies her aunt had. “I’ll have to spend my penny now,” she said. “I found it in the sewing-machine drawer, and I’ve been saving it.” She went to her baby house, picked up a little box, and then started for the store. The grocer took down the biggest banana he had, and gave it to her; but he laughed when he looked at the money Trotty put in his hand. THE WAX DOLLAR. . , 2’41, “See what that child gave me,” he said to Aunt Ada, when she ~ was in the store the next day. , Y I ' _. _ ‘ _ \‘ If ' . ‘ /'. - \ . . . \\ ' ‘1. ’ ‘ ‘- . I '1 Aunt Ada looked, and saw that it was a big wax dollar that she had made years before when she was taking lessons in wax-work. U ’ And Trotty had; thought it was'a penny, and had bought a banana \, . j j FLORENCE B. HALLOWELL. - THE FALLING LEAVES. A BLITHE red squirrel sat under a tree, When the leaves were falling adown, adown; Some were golden, and some were red, And some were a russet-brown. “If only these leaves were nuts,” thought he, “YVhat a rich little squirrel I should be!” A sweet little baby sat under a tree, When the leaves were falling adown, adown; They fell in his lap, they danced on his toes, And they tickled his little, bald crown. He lifted his arms, and crowed with glee: “They’re birdies, mamma, all flying to me.” Some poor little flowers lay under a tree, When the leaves were falling adown, adown; And they thought of the cold, bleak, wintry days, And the snow-king’s angry frown. But the leaves called out, “We’re coming, you see, To tuck you in as snug as can be.” A shy white bunny sat under a tree, But the snow-flakes were falling adown, adown; The wise red squirrel had scampered away, And the baby had gone to town. So he lifted the cover a trifle to see, ~ And the flowers were sleeping as sound as could be. GUSSIE PACKARD DUBOIS. l .w .. .357. (who. .. LxAu..1/.1.x. /'/. r A PET MULE. DICKIE was twice “ adopted,” and I will tell you how it happened. When quite young he and his mother strayed one day near a large field. Two large mules were grazing in the field. They came to the barbed-Wire fence to look at the wanderers. Hezekiah, the larger of the two, fell in love with Dickie, and wished to have him for a pet. Reaching his head between the rows of wire he caught the little creature by the foot, and dragged him through into the field, hurting him badly. The mother strayed away and was never seen again. A lady at the ranch house, an invalid, saw this strange performance from her window. When evening came, and the men returned from the fields, she induced two of them to go and look after the strange colt. Hezekiah was standing near him, tenderly licking his wounds when the men entered the enclosure. Dickie was faint from his n; Wound and from lack of food.‘ He could not walk, and the men car- ried him to the house. As they left the field Hezekiah brayed loudly, and acted in a very wild, strange manner. He was grieved over the loss of his pet. _ Dickie was adopted for the“ second time by the people at the ranch house. They were very kind to him, and for a while fed him milk with a spoon. But he was soon able to take care of himself. . He became very frisky as he grew stronger. Still he loved to be ' petted, and would often rub his head against the invalid lady’s arm. When she was able to go about he walked out daily by her side, and was as demure and gentle as a kitten. One day when. most of the family had gone to town, Dickie grew lonesome. He concluded he would go into the house to stay with the ladV. She was sittino alone in the dining-room. You can 4 4- ’- v. ' ». '-’ ‘Jlu'f'n . _~ ,- 42," . . . ‘_ pin! MAMJIA ’S BIRITHDA Y. imagine her surprise when Dickie walked in. He looked very large in the house, and she quickly drove him out. Another day, as she sat in the parlor, playing on the piano, he walked quietly in, and stood looking at her with his great, shining eyes. As long as she played he remained quiet. When she ceased he began to moVe about, and she was again obliged to drive him out. After that he would stand with his head in the window, and listen to her playing. When she left the ranch he jumped over the fence after all had left the place. He not only followed the carriage to the depot, but ran for some distance after the train. JENNIE s. JUDSON. MAMMA’S BIRTHDAY. “THE latch is so high _ On this great, big door, And I’ve so many apples In my pinafore! “I got them for mamma, -- This is her birthday,-— And I know when she sees them Just what she will say. Nay") l'éhn‘ffifl MAMMA’S BIR THDA Y. “Oh, what shall I do? . _ *_ _ _ ,w Hark! a step in the hall.- - " Hurry, oh, hurry! _ . My apples will fall.” -. j ll ’ '!l-’"|!1I'llj1 "’ ., I l i 1" t“ I. M - I “5 '. ._. .' “ The door opens wide, -- ' ‘ ’Tis mamma herself, y I. Who thanks, with sweet kisses, Her Lluzii‘ little Uli’. Q AN OLD ENGLISH GAME. HUNDREDS of years ago, even before any people but Indians lived in America, the children used to play games, just as they do now. In England they had plays for the little ones» at Christmas, Michaelmas, and other holidays. The young folks had “ good times,” just as they do now, though not always in the same way. 7 Oliver Goldsmith wrote a great many poems, histories, and stories, which are read now. ’One of them was the story called “ The Vicar of Wakefield,” which the little ones ought to read when they grow up. On Michaelmas eve the vicar’s family played “ Blindman’s Bufi,” “Hunt the Slipper,” “ Hot Cockles,” and, very likely, “ Snapdragon,” for this last game was used on all such occasions. The picture of Snapdragon, ion another page, will almost explain itself. A quantity of brandy is put in a shallow dish on the table. Then they set the brandy on fire, for the alcohol in it will burn. From the pan will rise a bluish blaze, into which some one drops raisins, almonds, or sweetmeats.~ The game is to pick out the raisins, or other eatables, and put them into the mouth. It is quite exciting, and the little ones scream and laugh with delight. Of course they do not burn their fingers very badly, or they would not laugh. You may learn from the picture how people dressed in England one or two hundred years ago. Perhaps you will be glad that you don’t have to wear such great, stiff collars as the children who are playing the game. In those days the men did not wear trousers. as they do now, but “tights” and “ trunks,” like the man-servant who is bringing in the refreshments. ' Papa and mamma in these times will not think that “Snapdragon ” is a very pretty game, for they all teach the little ones not to play with fire. It is not a safe game, and it is just as well that it is not used ""W in our homes. UNCLE FORRESTER. THE ICE-KING’S REIGN. THE sun had gone down with promises sweet, When, keen from the north, the wind Came blustering along on' its coursers fleet,. And left frozen tracks behind. Maude stood at the window; the moon shimmered' down- On whirling leaves, stiff and dead, All piteously driven; she turned with a frown, And soft to herself she said:— “The old tyrant Winter leaves nothing to prize, Leaves nothing that’s bright or fair; He has stolen the blue from the bending skies, The warmth from the earth and air. THE I C'E—IIIN G ’S REIGN. “The summer’s dear blossoms are withered and dead; My garden is brown and bare; The chipper of birds in the nest overhead Is hushed, for no birdlings are here. “The woodlands no longer are shady and sweet, Dry leafage encumbers the ground; The pathways, once verdant and soft to my feet, In fetters of ice are bound. “ The pride of the barn-yard sits humped with the cold, One frozen foot under his wing; And the sheep huddle closely, for warmth, in their fold; The ice tyrant reigns as king.” .She turns from this picture of ruin and death, And seeks the broad casement again; .And, lo! from the dews of her wasted breath Great forests have grown on the pane. Such beautiful trees! such ferns! and such flowers! Such rivers and mountains bold“! Such charming cascades! she gazes for hours, And worships the ice king cold. JENNIE JOY. TLE Or RISTMAS CAROL OF THE BIRDS. ~ -j ' +3» if ’ I Do you know, when we are having such good times at Christmas, p - > what sweet music they have in Norway, that cold country across Wei-i ._ 1'"? “~55, . j ' i j ..1' F . f._ the sea? One day in the year _ a the simple peasants who live there . ' . make the birds very happy, so that they sing, of their own free __ i . . I . . . - "i Will, a glad, joyous carol on Oliristinas morning. ., f , And this is why they sing on that morning more than on any ~ ' ' ' other. After the birds have found shelter from the north wind i" @113} M .____ " _ - .-_ -- IN PAPA’S BOOTS. on Christmas-eve, and the night is still and bright with stars, or even if the storm be ever so severe, the good people bring out sheaves of corn and wheat from their storehouses. Tying them on slen- der poles, they raise them from every spire, barn, gate-post, and gable; then, when the Christmas sun rises over the hills, every spire and gable bursts forth into joyous song. ' You can well believe that these songs of the birds make the people of Norway very happy. They echo, with all their hearts. their living, grateful anthem, “Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will to men!” MRS. G. HALL IN PAPA’S BOOTS. IT was winter, and the snow was very deep where little Katie lived. Katie did not like the winter, for she wanted to run and play out of doors. One day she asked her mamma to let her go out and play in the snow. “Why, Katie!-—you would freeze,” said her mamma. IN PAPA’S BOOTS. ~Papa goes out in the snow, and he doesn’t freeze,” said Katie. “ But papa is larger than my little girl. Besides, he dresses warmer. You know what large rubber boots he wears when he goes out in the snow.” Katie said no more; but the next day she found the big boots in the hall, where her papa had left them. A large coat and fur cap were hanging there, too. Pretty soon Katie’s mamma heard some one crying. She thought i it sounded like the voice of her little girl. She began to ’ " " ' I“ search for her: but she was not to be found any- where in the house. Then she went to the door. There stood Katie, a few steps from the house, in the deep snow. She had on the big boots and the coat and cap. They were so large and heavy that she had got stuck fast in the snow, and could neither go on nor come back. “ I don’t want to play in the snow any more,” she sobbed, as her mamma took her into the house. She is now will- ing to wait until // W/Ifl/ a]; S g! the sun shall melt the snow away. H. I CHARLES. Rena WHY THE SWANS DID NOT GET THE BREAD. LITTLE Myo was not quite two years old, and was an American , but he had lived, in Italy long enough to know how to ask for bread. One day he was walking with his. mamma in the beautiful public garden in Milan, and admiring the great, stately swans that swam in the little lake. He thought he would like to feed them, as he saw other children doing. But he had forgotten to bring any bread with him. “ Myo feed birdies,” he said to mamma, just as if he was sure she had bread in her pocket. But mamma had forgotten the bread, too. She was sorry, and told Myo they would be sure to bring bread the next time they came. But Myo did not want to wait. “Little girl got, bread, mamma,” said Myo, pointing to a little Italian, who stoodwith her mamma, feeding the swans. Before Myo’s mamma could say anything he was running as fast as his little legs would carry him up to this girl. Holding out his hand he said, “ Pane, pane ” (pah-ny), at the same time pointing to the swans. The child understood him. She looked at her mamma and said, “ Bello bambino.” That in Italian meant “ Pretty baby.” Then in the same language she asked to be allowed to give some bread to the “ bello bambino,” so that he could feed the swans. The mother gave her permission. Taking the bread, and not forgetting to say “Grazia,” that is, “Thank you,” Myo ran back to his mamma, put- ting the bread into his own mouth as fast as he could. WHY THE SWANS DID NOT GET THE BREAD. “ Mamma ! ” he cried, “ little girl give me bread! Now Myo feed the birdies. Why, mamma! where’s Myo’s bread? Where’s Myo’s bread ?” The little fellow was surprised not to find the bread in his hands. no looked all around, on the ground, and everywhere, except between his little white teeth, where the bread was being chewed up as fast as possible. Myo never could understand where that bread went to. The next time they visited the gardens mamma took care to take bread with them, enough for both Myo and the birdie. It took a good deal, for every time he gave the swans a piece he took a bite himself. It tasted so good that neither Myo nor the swans cared whether it was called bread or “ pane,” so that they had all they wanted of it. MARY A. ALLEN. THE NEW YEAR. Words by ELIZABETH A. DAvIs. Music by T. CRAMP'ION- VOICE. Allegretto. 77'tf"\ f‘ 1. Lis - ten, lis - ten ! don’t you hear, Some one knock - ing at your door, 2. Ours to choose the thorns and flow’rs, If we do our du ~ ty mind; PIANO. /,_.__\ Don’t you know the glad New w‘I'ear Comes to you and me once more? Spend a - right the pleas -ant hours, Life with beau -ty we shall find. /\ A Comes with treasures ev- er new, Spread out at our wait-ing feet? High resolves and Let us then the por-tals fling, Heaping high the liber-alcheer, Let us laugh and pur-pose true, Round our lives to mu-sic sweet. shout and sing, Welcome! welcome! glad New Year. /\ "\ {as . .yy. , WHAT A BRAVE TOMMY! TOMMY was a big brag. He would swell up and strut like an old gobbler, telling what he had done. Tommy was a big coward. There was no worse scarecrow than he, and he would drop his head and blubber “ Booh-booh ! ” (not daring to look behind him), and how he would make his hands and feet go ! There came a big snow- storm; Oh, 110w it snowed! Tommy’s father, who taught the Centre Grammar School, came into the house, stamp- ing his feet, beating his cap, shaking his clothes as if he were a polar bear trying to get his white coat off. “I tell you!” he ex~ claimed. “Tell what?” asked Tom- my’s mother. “Why, that it’s a tough storm. I wanted to go out and try my new gymnas- tics.” Y “Your what?” asked grandmother, looking up from her knitting. “Your What, J otham ? ” WHAT A BRA VE TOlll ill Y. “Why, what I jump over, you know, to stir up my blood. You know how it works.” “ I never tried it, J otham,” said grandmother. The idea! Grandmother, with her spectacles, trying to jump over that object! . “I guess you folks didn’t see it when Bumps’ express brought it,” said Tom- my’s father. “ It is out in the yard.” That afternoon Abbie, Tom- my’s sister. cried on t, “ Oh, see! The snow is covering up everything ! i What if it should cover us up! ” “Oh!” brave “ I’m not The snow had covered up everything so ' that you could hardly tell it. It looked as if Barnum’s men-ag -—- what a word ! Let’s begin again. It looked as if Barnum’s men-ag-e-rie had come into the yard. The trellis of the grape-vine looked like the white elephant, and a rose- bush like a monkey ——oh, all sorts of creatures were there ! And the pump, with its handle, looked like the showman himself, stretching out his arms and telling those animals to mind. “ Tommy,” said his mother, about dark, “ I wish you would go out to the gate and see if there are any signs of theibaker, though I don't l, WHAT A BRAVE TOMMY. suppose he really will come. Your father has been breaking out the yard-path.” “ I’ll go too,” said Abbie. “ Pooh! I’m not afraid ; girls are,” shouted Tommy. Returning from the gate, when near the back door what was it they ran into ? It was something long, something white, something on legs! ' “ Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” shrieked Tommy, running into this object. “ It’s a bear! It’s a bear ! ” He missed his footing and rolled under the object, bawling away while Abbie, brave little Abbie, tried, though trembling, to pull him up. The shrieking brought the household to the door. “I declare,” said Tommy’s father, “if that boy isn’t under my exercise-horse.” “I felt-his-legs,” groaned Tommy, when in the house. “I was-afraid- it-was-a-a-big bear.” “ I’ll tell you what to be afraid of,” said his mother. “ Afraid of what?” sobbed Tommy, expecting it would be a tiger, a. lion, or a big snake. - ' “Afraid to do wrong.” Tommy’s father made a picture of the “bear ” that frightened Tommy, and. there it is. REV. EDWARD A. RAND. I O - _ -,., i "A ' I . D '0 , | .l v." >y' I .f’ .j. \I l '- 1 ' I ‘. I a ' - - .- § I/ l ,. it! 5’ “ n." . amt ,i f " Mi, Elli!!! hi" ’liilliglmu ‘ j 4! ALA , , ,, ‘ ' lllll'iflfilillriiengagn 5.3-3; Oh, what shall .I write to my dolly? _ ’ ' I love her so much, a Though she sprained her poor foot in the autumn, . And goes with a crutch. . 4Q . . 5, ‘ M. i ’i‘ 'Q- '4s". "’ \' ‘.." f'.‘ " !- j ‘ ( Irfo< -f ~. ._ I“ r. ~z f-i'w'i. -.-' ~"-~“ flaws: A. ' .131; .,!-- ,-*,_;4 u'};vb_fi‘,‘_" .IiL-‘i-J- .- '1.- w.- :~r.-.~ AM i n 1 (- . ~ 75A! ‘ (A\;",‘!- _'-_ ...--~--_|__---- 1i. testes—tum? .\ . ,~ ». . I \ . 'r I. s a Q .r - VALENTINE TO A SICK DOLL. I’ll say—let me think 1—“ Darling deary. Your eyes are so blue, Of winking them never I’m weary,— Though one is askew. “Your cheek is so smooth and s0 pinky, ~ It looks like a rose. I’m sorry I dropped you last summer, And broke off your nose. “Your hair is so yellow ‘and glossy— Your dress was so fine, Before it was torn by Puss Flossy, You sweet Valentine! “ But 'my birthday is coming next Monday, I You poor‘little elf ! I I’ll have a new dolly, and you, dear, Can sleep and get well on the shelf.” UNCLE FELIX. cl" u v A CAT HOSPITAL. STUTTGART is a large city in Germany. Many travellers go there. A really true letter came to me from a little lassie 'who spent several months there. This is What she said : —- “_ DEAR AUNTIE,-—-We took a beautiful ride to-day to a little village a few miles out of the city. We went to a place where a man keeps dozens of cats and kittens to sell. I never knew how many different kinds there Were before. “ How I Wish you could have seen them! Black I cats, white cats, grey cats, yellow cats, streaked and spotted cats, and such darling little kits rolling and tumbling about ! ‘Uncle Tom told me to choose one myself. A OAT . HOSPITAL. “ There was a lovely Persian cat, that I wanted very badly. She‘ had long white hair, ‘like a baby Polar bear,’ Uncle Tom said. Her eyes were as blue as the forget-me-nots we used to find down by the old mill. Her tail puffed out like a fox’s. , “But she was quite deaf. All the Persian cats are. Just think of l llllll, WWW”)"ll‘ill " l ill, \‘l ,5 ‘iv‘i‘lfl‘ ‘ i! l ‘iii'lil llllllllll 'lllllrllllun I a kitten that couldn’t hear you call Kittie7 Kittie, Kittie, when you wanted her to jump up into your lap to be petted, or when you had a. saucer of milk for her. i “ We all laughed at the Manx cats. They are from the Isle of Man. They have stumpy tails, and their hind legs are the longest. They make you fancy they are thinking of turning a somersault. But they are too ugly to make pets of. A OAT HOSPITAL. “At last I chose a cunning, frisky little Angora kitten. She was jet-black. Her hair was so long that when I brushed it, it parted down the middle, like mine. ‘ “Uncle Tom paid quite a handful of silver pieces for her. We squeezed her into an old willow bird-cage for the journey home. “She was full of fun and frolic, and soon grew fond of me. Aunt Laura gave me. some scraps of flannel, and I made her a blanket, in stripes of red and white, with a dab of blue in one corner, like the American flag. “I only had her about ten days When she began to mope about. I’m afraid I fed her with too many good things. She got worse, and then somebody told us about the hospital where they take care of sick animals. Horses, and dogs, and cats, and monkeys, and birds, and other creatures are sent there. They take good care of them, and a good many are cured. ' “I wrapped my kitty in her blanket, and we took her to the hospital. We gave her to a young man, who promised to be very kind to her. ' ' ' “But, oh, dear me! In three days a grand-looking servant, with a great many gilt buttons, came to tell me kitty was dead. I paid eighteen cents. They charge siX cents a day for cats. “ I wrapped her in her flag and buried her in a cigar-box. “ I am your loving little Grace.” SYDNEY DAYRE. Walls like . 9Tww ‘@©Ei very small colt. ’ ina blue white @iaese teal; Callie drahli ll’ so lbl K a I W sure youwould llDHl'rIIK ' , very W©lf$€illllllflgdfi old lady 5% never drazrggll wafer, ' ., ller @ es .uer MW; 5". But said her lilgfsli lea _ u 1. a . A r i .i . H . . a . i \ i - . n . 2.30 I v . _ . 0 r . 4 I I . 1. . . ..... . . \. . . r. - . I A' . , _ '.‘;"‘-V a. ~- _ ,"zB _.‘: .z . ’a ‘ ; - ¢‘ i .q. g l \ .- "_i ‘ _ ' Z ‘ f _ q , . 7 ‘_'v' 5 ' 'l 4 Y _ i ' V I - . A I~ ' L . 5 ‘ ‘~ 0 \_ ‘ _ _ - _§ , q . ‘7 ~ \ '- I _ ' e A LITTLE BOY’S TROUBLE. I CHARLIE’S two pets were great friends. Chico was a spaniel, and Max a mustang pon to sleep in. y. Max, gave Chico a warm corner in his stall . 4 Tli‘nl‘.‘ Mull] 'tt'ai‘i‘i" 1y..--:‘,:-_- _ -. Whenever Charlie came home from a ride Chico was 7 sure to be watching for them. I think the dog was almost as glad to see Max as to see his little master. .Qj another horse, named Mollie. Charlie bore the parting bravely; but Chic He looked lonely enough. and would not eat. 1 Mollie. a ~l_ But by and by Max grew very lazy; so papa sold him and bought 0 was very unhappy. He walked about with his head down, He did not even try to get acquainted with 4 I I . _ V .‘1 .' - .1. A/.. . .. _‘. . ., ‘ p 'r 7' A "LA" _r 0,7' '_ ,A-._- r , v | I ,l‘ "141.’ ' 2‘ W a. I -' _ ‘ \_: G ‘ "'f H . I. ,4 . - 4.. .'__,. .I‘ _ I - § _ I", ‘ _ _ l 1‘ . a win 1 -;.r. '. .1 '3’}: 7'. "+4! .- n i -‘k‘1; ..7-_ 1155;! '. 0-”, | ‘ ; :v-J-g- . , q. ‘w .-' l .,|; l | | I . l a) : l ' - ¢ . .a‘ . w. ' r l n b _4 .“A‘fllf _l .5 A LITTLE BOY’S TROUBLE. At last Chico could not be found. Charlie whistled, and called “Chico! Chico!” but he did not come. It was Thanksgiving day. Charlie had counted‘the'days till it came. Now it was a sad merr -‘ making for him. His dear uncles, and aunties, and cousins were all I there. More than that, he wore. his first pair of,trousers on that day. At any other time he would have felt very proud and happy. But he could enjoy nothing now, because poor Chico would get no Thanksgiving dinner. Two or three days after, Jacob took Charlie over to see Max, who was in a stable not far away. And there —-snugly curled upin the stable—lay Chico, fast asleep. _ He looked lean and hungry. But he liked Max far better than the choicest bone in the world ; so he was content. Charlie was as happy as a little boy \could be. Everybody petted Chico more than ever when he went home, because he was such 'a faithful friend. (1. EMMA CHENEY. -> _; “f'" - r 1-”, ,. . ,4 . 'i _ -" e. - ' ~ 1 g A COMET,‘ bold and bright, wexnt sailing through the .sky, And he thought the stars would follow where he led;' .~ ‘ ' But the moon, so white and high, And the planets kept their pleasant place instead. The bold, bright” comet thought; this is a little queer, To* one in history well known "for aye," . q ". Who has journeyed year on year, " Just to reach, this atmosphere, . And teachlthese plodding planets how to fly. . / . Then he travelled day and night, far beyond the milky way, Past the big stars and the little ones, I Wis: “It will be,” they heard him say, ‘ A century to a day,’ ‘ l hire you have another'chanceto'fly like this.” MARY N. PRESCOTT. 'wi‘ . *1 ‘~ ‘7- .. l ‘ --' \ / 7_ I‘ i . " .l ‘ r 1 :1 M .7 .21, ~.. ' " ° " ‘ ~ ' ) > ' 4 " - -l .’ . - ._.,. ~ I’ a 4 ; n \R’ in. V I ‘ 1 ~ ,A- . . . .I-J; .‘ . . a - , f i . i _. -_ . : -' - ~. 3' ,r . = _ . U .f_-_;_. 9*, y} . ;:_‘- '5". ':"F,.:-: “a; - J ‘ --- l--."¢,'7'*' "as". '-'r 4,: __. {at}. ‘. I“ _- i‘rflsa .é'_\.f~;‘i1_(_3>;;_§::3_4~~_1 _ _ 9 .3 ‘ iiffigffi’ ‘ 't ,_ q _ ._‘=_.M-_.__.__l'":"_ ___— _ ___ _ She passed him proudly by, '- ' - -.-' .1. .' h " 4'. .A| |'.l ._. r. ¢l A ,,. 31‘ .t .7... - .. 7 4. Iv. -- . . v v. . Q1}. 1‘; . . m I ' .L . -. I -V . i "’I y'J’y 'L': ¢ b .. 3_\ A .’ emf. I" I . .\ 4 a- \ i \. r ’l ' ..,. _ f R . .I l . .J 54 . V ,. I. , /, e .. ._ I , 3 ', - J r A . - ,1. \ e . - , i ‘_ O ‘ , l .m . : , _, 8., . ‘I . . . “1.. ‘- 4‘“ _ -,:~. \I i! .""”c“ .- ~ 1. '1 - - Ix." 1 12-, v . H -»|-,.-_ . t, ‘4' .,:‘, -'..‘¢~:- 3.1m J OHN N Y’S WED DING. HANDSOME Johnny Dale lived at our house, and worked forv my father, and told stories to us children. Sometimes the stories were true, and sometimes he made them up, with his eyes shut, and called them “dreams.” The dreams were ' ' very droll and strange. One day he said: —- “ Children, I shall not always live at your house ; I mean sometime to live in a house of my own.” “ O Johnny! don’t go! don’tgo!” I cried; and my tears fell fast, for I loved him dearly. But my brother Ben said :—' “ Poh, that’s one of Johnny’s ‘dreams’! He won’t go and live alone! He can’t make bread!” “What if Nancy should go with me, and make it_for me?” asked Johnny, slyly. _ Then we both laughed, and that was the end of my crying. Nancy was our girl, she would always stay with us ; she would never go to Johnny’s house to make his-bread. 7 Well, one morning, while I was at school, reading 0, a, t, cat, d, o, g, dog, some one knocked loud at the school-house door. It was my papa. The teacher laughed and whispered, “He has come to take you children to a wedding.” ' Dear, good, sweet papa ! , “ But what is a wedding ‘3” I asked, as I danced into the sleigh. “ Wait and see,” laughed papa. When we got home there was mamma in the parlor, with visitors. By and by Nancy came in dressed in silk. How pretty she was l . I 1 . t | _ . . r . narrates. .1. . . ., - . in A 8.. s _ .. , r. e _ . f . . . s k Irv . \we ‘I I . . . . m . f... ‘1! I. . . . . . .. .. . . . -. . , a. n q . | a .w. .a. . I l ‘ I n - p I I ~. 7 . . . . , e . .. .m . . -. . 0 I ..u . . u . .. . . . _ _.. "I - a . ._ _ ._ 77.1.. r v 2141.49. . . . . t . .1... \\ L s . . u v . . Q l \ - ‘0 .. .. Q \. . _ . . - q \ - r . _ l .. > i f , _ \ . s A . _ .. .l. . ._ . I e. e _ . .4 .\ v. | P | . ¢ v s . . 4 a . .e L I . . n 0 ~ .. _ J . . . . ‘ . . Cm! I n I .- . .. .. .. \ x , .. . . . \ I H i l n u I .\ ~ 1 . 1 _ L. body else Lb O n d a 1 _. d VJ e h T ome . r I t . a . S . ... o. . i . z... I ‘ 1| -.T.\;. ....... d :H'»; a 7 o r. . y. n . a .\ I I ied. -._. fit" 1 alled “Mrs. Dale” when she 'was Cc ill! 1 s, as if she had been gone away ll I'VEDDIN G a "c (277 JOHNNY’S My father stood before them and began to say she like it to‘be' Di He looked sober and. the room was still. you do, Mrs. Dale Then they went up and shook hand S T]? , to sit * down. While. When he stopped talking somebody or laughed, and said to Nancy Then Johnny came in, in a blue coat and white vest. “ How do something. a long stop ’ \ DOLLS ’ TRIALS. not Mrs. Dale at all? - She looked ready to cry. But Johnny was as gay as a cricket. He came and led me up to Nancy, and said .— “ You may kiss the bride.” I kissed her, but it was only Nancy. Where was the “ bride ? ” Mamma cut a frosted cake. While I was eating my slice, full of raisins and currants, what did Johnny do but put Nancy in a new ' sleigh and drive her away. “ They will never come back,” said Benny to me, in the corner; “I knew it all the time. She will make Johnny’s bread, and live with him in his new house. Johnny told you so.” I thought my heart would break. My only comfort was that very, very nice cake. It was the best part of Johnny’s wedding. SOPHIE MAY DOLLS’ TRIALS. E morning Nora had been playing in the sitting-room with her best doll. It was the one who was dressed in silk, and named Victoria. Jim, the gray kitten, had been playing there, too, with a ball which he had rolled all over the floor. ’ Nora suddenly thought of something she wanted to tell grandma. She laid Victoria very carefully on the sofa and went upstairs. lie/@140" TRIALS. Jim felt lonely as soon as she was gone. He left his ball and jumped upon the sofa to take a nap. When he saw the doll he thought he would have a little frolic With her. So he tossed her about till he ripped the trimming off- one‘side of her dress. Then he caught hold of her hair, and pulled out one of her nicest curls, and so left a bare spot on her head. _ Just then Nora came in again. When she saw how Victoria had been used she snatched her up ‘ and ran back to grandma, crying as hard as she could. “ Oh, this isn’t half as bad as something that happened to my dolly when I was a little girl,” said grandma. Nora wiped her eyes and tried to stop crying, and said, “What was it that happened then?” “When I was about as old as .you are,” said grandma, “ I had a large rag baby, named Polly. It was stuffed with bran, and its lace was painted with bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks. I thought it was the prettiest baby that \ 5 ever was. The very first summer ‘ that I had her I went away from y! 1 home and stayed a week. When 1 _I came back I found my baby 11, > > -- a dreadful condition. A hungry m Ill» m i i ililll till"! it ,'II in DOLLS’ TRIALS. mouse had got into the chamber where my playhouse was. It had gnawed a hole in the back of Polly’s head and let the bran out, so that her face had fallen in and lost all its shape.” “And didn’t you cry?” asked Nora, with a shiver of sympathy. I I‘ ‘ ’4 &(/r 1* I ' 1.. “ Oh, yes, I cried as hard as I could, and ran to tell my grandma, just as you did. But she stuffed Polly’s head again, and sewed it up, and made her as good as she was before.” All the while grandma was talking she was repairing the mis- .' chief that Jim had done. First she sewed on the trimming that. l ' was ripped off, and then she fastened the curl on again with some glue, so that Victoria looked as well as ever. By the time this was done Nora’s face had grown happy and smiling, and she exclaimed, “ I do think that grandmas are the very best folks to have around when things happen.” M. E. N. HATHEWAY. a e .,. . D m . .. .1 H . O O ‘1. S L“ 9 0 1 mm B . rivals"... .. .. .. ,. . . . .. . . Mg. l .n er. n . , . , ......r & Val.“ . .3 . . a. . A WM .8 n .. .I b e e i y .N a M an a. I a S um 1K . I... G a l .H . d w e .. 1m . .. R n . . i I. n . . .... -- I a O O a 8 _ , . _. .._.. 7 ah Q in . \. _ . . .. l. g v d r t . . .\ 1 a , . w ., m d 1 . F . d n f , 0 1 w W a . 1|. _L .. .0 1 O I e e a ’y 1% 10 Wis - A .11 O l O 1 6 y abk l l 1 C T b l . e O t 1m .7, 1H nI _ d M _ .r: ITU S n/ e S . a n n . 5 on W e e I J n r p 7 01 t d O n _ ... “1 h 1m _I . . . m C H _\ .. . . ... H. o _l\. . _ l 1 .. 1 . . , E m 0 . e . ,. . . 9,. H .vr.. N r D £1" . .. 0 e d M u . n .. l a . . _ e i. o __ 0 Lb h a. . Z," 5"“ - "'1 v. SAG, OF VIRGINIA. Mr. Hurd was puzzled. He read the words three times, and then gave the paper to his Wife. “ One of Howard’s jokes,”lsaid Mrs. Hurd. “ Has Uncle Howard sent something ? ” asked Madge. a; 3 v \\ .— —\\-\.\. l t.\\\ a “ So it seems.” “ What is it?” asked three of the children at once. The baby could not speak, so he pounded the table with a spoon. “ We do not know,” said Mr. Hurd. .“ Perhaps it is Some white mice,” added Harry. “ He wouldn’t send white mice from Virginia to Boston,” replied Dick. “ It may be some fruit in a bag,” said Madge. “ No,” said her father; "‘ it is written ‘SAG,’ in large letters.” SAG, OF VIRGINIA. For two days the children wondered and wondered. At last one evening an expressman called 5 it was quite dark. “ Here is something for Mr. Hurd,” he said to the servant. Mr. Hurd was not at home. Mrs. Hurd and the children were. They went to the door. A boy stood there, holding a donkey by the bridle. The donkey had on a blanket trimmed with red. He had a pretty little bridle, with his name, “ Sag,” on a neat silver plate. “ Oh, oh, oh!” exclaimed all the children. Back of Mr. Hurd’s house there was a little stable, all covered with vines. It had not been used since Mr. Hurd bought the house. There was a stall in it, full of trunks and boxes. When the boy led Sag round to ,the stable the poor donkey looked sorrowful. Every one went to .work. In a few moments the trunks and boxes were all out. Then ‘Dick ran to the livery stable in the next block, and bought an armful of hay. His brother bought some bedding. Then Sag looked all about his new home and seemed to like it. When Mr. Hurd came home it was late. The next morning all the children marched to the stable to introduce papa to Sag, of Virginia. KATE TANNATT woons. THE BOBOLINK. “OH, you’re a silly bird, I think, You little, noisy Bobolink! Why can’t you sometimes let us hear A word of sense as well as cheer? And then you’re such a gossip, too, How can we tell that half is true, With your never-ending chink, chink, chink, You tiresome little Bobolink?” “Ohink-a-chink, I see, I see, What care I what you think of me? My life to you may seem like folly, But never a bird was half so jolly. My nest is hid among the clover, Safe from the eye of the careless rover, And nothing to do but sing chink-chink-chink. Oh, who wouldn’t be a Bobolink?” ELIZABETH A. DAVIS. A MOUSE THAT LIVES IN THE MUD. A MOUSE,F.my children! 'A"m0use' With no particular head, and no particular feet, and no particular tail. A mouse that does not know the taste of cheese, and that never saw a mouse-trap ; a mouse that cannot squeak, and that actually lays eggs! How the little brown fellow, whom you hear scampering and squeaking in the wall, would open his bright black eyes if he were to hear of such a mouse as this. “ That creature a mouse?” he would say. “ Where is its long, beautiful tail? Where is its sharp nose, and its pretty white teeth, and its four trim little feet, with their dainty claws? Pooh! I don’t believe it’s a mouse at all! ” Between you and me, my dears, the little brown fellow is right, and this strange creature is not really a mouse ; but that is What it is called, —the sea-mouse. Brownie might well be proud, however, if he could claim it as his cousin, for it is one of the most beautiful creatures in the world. This little lady in the picture now,-you see nothing beautiful in her, for she is drawn in plain black and white; but, if you were to see her as she really is, your eyes would be fairly dazzled by her brilliant beauty. Her long, oval body is covered with a thick coat of hair, and every single hair in this coat is a tiny bit of living rainbow, flashing back the light in a thousand many-colored rays. Rubies, emeralds, sapphires, topazes, diamonds, amethysts, opals, -— take a handful of each, mix them all together, and toss them up in the sunlight at noon when the sun is brightest, —then you may have A MOUSE THAT LIVES IN THE MUD. some idea of the sparkling beauty of this little sea-mouse, which creeps so quietly about in the mud at the bottom of the sea. By the way, she has another name besides sea-mouse, and a much prettier one, -Aphrodite. Let us call her that in future. Now, is Aphrodite proud of her beauty? We should be, I am sure, in her place. We should spend all our time in'the brightest sunshine we could find, on top of the biggest rock, and we should Q: sparkle and sparkle until the sun himself would be jealous. But Aphrodite is not A ' proud; on the contrary, she is the shyest little creature in the world. Instead of sunning herself, and en- joying the sensation she creates, her one desire is to keep out of the way. Burrowing . into the mud, hid- ing under stones or in empty shells, V wrapping herself up in a sea- weed man- tle, she seems to be con- stantly saying : - ' “j. “Oh! don’t, I-beg of _ you, take the trouble to look at me! I am ' ' ' \_\ r ' only four inches long, and I haven’t any head worth 'mention-. ing. You really embarrass me by staring ; and there are so many creat- ures all around here that are really worth looking at. See that great octopus over there, who is trying so hard to attract your attention. :Go and look at him, like good people ! 7 He is fifty times as big as I am, and he likes to be stared at, and can stare back agai'iv “ Humph! I don’t want to look at the octopus now, do you . U gly- thing! We will see him some day, however... But now I really must stir up Miss Aphrodite, and let you see how she walks. LITTLE GAMES. You see those bunches of bristles on each side of her fiat body? Well, she walks —if you can call it walking—with those. She does not get about very fast; but there is no need of that, for she has plenty of time, and is never in a hurry. Another queer thing about her is the way in which she breathes. You see she lives in the mud a great deal, and yet she does not want to breathe mud; so, under her beautiful rainbow cloak of hair, she has another coat of something that looks like felt. This felt coat catches and holds the mud, and does not let any of it pass through; so that the scale-like gills under- neath, through which she breathes, get nothing but clear, good water. I am very sorry to be obliged to say that Aphrodite is extremely greedy, but it is the melancholy truth. There is no end to her appetite ; and I am afraid that if she were very hungry she would not hesitate to eat her own grandmother. Isn’t that shocking ? LAURA E. RICHARDS. LITTLE GAMES. “ttmg—a—round—a—rosy! ” Cheeks just like a posy; ' Eyes that twinkle with delight,— Could there be a fairer sight? Little feet that dance in glee; Voices singing ’merrily. Won’t you stop a little while? At my question you will smile: LITTLE GAMES. “Rosy I have never seen,— Tell me, is she some fair queen? Have your lily hands now crowned her, While you form a ring around her? “Why ‘draw buckets of water For my lady’s daughter’? Has she spoiled her pretty dress? Ah! to wash her face, I guess! Very hard ’tis to unravel "What is meant, dears, by ‘green gravel.’ Then,’ you say, ‘ How barley grows You, nor I, nor nobody knows; ’ Oats, peas, beans, too, you include: If the question he nOt rude,' Darlings, tell why this is done.” “Ha! Ha! ” laugh they; “it’s such fun I ” GEORGE COOPER \ I-sgéyf ‘:E-.b'.__‘.¢. :7- _ b - 1. u? I 4 . ‘ ‘ ._. .- QUEER things to put together, —- are they not? And yet I know a little boy who spends most of time playing with’these two S’s. All through the summer, when does not rain, he is out in his sand-bank, under the (lining-room windaw. - There he has a little wagon, old pails, pans, cans, sifters, a barrel, and an dozen other things. All day long he plays, sifting, straining, "making mud-pies, cake, and biscuit. He lays out a vil- lage, with streets, canal, r .ilroad-tracks, houses, and church. No doubt every child knows all about playing in the sand. At least I hope so, for I don’t know anything nicer. But I don’t believe yOu all play with spools. Little Harry, of whom I am writing. has nearly a thousand spools. They are of two sizes; some very large and tall, the others more slender and shorter. ~ /7 SPOOLS AND SAIVD. Whenever he has to stay in the house Harry plays with these spools. He builds churches, castles, and high towers. Sometimes he makes farm- houses, with yards for 1 horses, cows, pigs, and chick- ens. Sometimes he lays rail- road-tracks so long that he says they go to California. One day he made a store large enough for him to go inside of and take things which he pretended to sell. Often he strings spools. His mamma fastens a spool firmly at one end of a stout string, and ties a tape- needle on the other end. Then Harry slips on one spool after another till sometimes he has more than a hundred on one string; then he draws them after him about the house. Mamma is always glad to have him busy _in this way; for when little boys are busy they are not nearly so likely to get into mischief. GRANDMA AND THE BEAR. Now, how do you suppose Harry comes to have all these spools? Why, in the place where he lives there are a great many glove- sho )S ; so much silk is used in stitching the gloves and mittens that hu dreds of spools are emptied every day. Many of the people who work in the shops know Harry, and how fond he is of spools. So they have brought them down to him, till now his mamma says she can’t find room in the house for any more. MRS. M. o. RANKIN. GRANDMA AND THE BEAR. ARTHUR was making a visit to Aunt Low, at Rye Farm. The little city boy thought everything was pleasant in the sweet, green country. All day long there were so many delightful things to do ; but among all the country pleasures there was none Arthur liked better than driving up the cows, and seeing them milked in the early evening. He was never tired of watching the sweet, white stream of milk bubbling into the pails under Betty’s swift, skilful fingers. “ Did you ever hear what your grandma once found in her cow~- yard ? ” asked Betty. “ No,” said Arthur. “ What did she find? A dear little, spotted calf, like Mottle ‘? ” ' “No, indeed,” said Betty, laughing. “ Ever so many years ago, GRANDMA AND TIIE' BEAR. when your grandpa first came to Rye Farm, the country about here was all new. In the mountains up yonder, bears, and panthers, and other wild creatures lived in the thick, dark woods. "’ One evening your grandma went out to milk the cows. It was nearly dark, and she saw the cows trembled and seemed frightened. But she spoke gently to them, and went on milking. When she got up with her milk—pail she saw a large, dark animal in one corner of the yard. She threw her milking-stool at it; it growled fiercely, and jumped over the fence. Then she knew it was a bear, and she ran to call the men. - . “They came with their guns, but the bear was out of sight. Grand- ma and her milking-stool had frightened him away.” “ How I should like to have seen him ! ” said Arthur. LUCY RANDOLPH FLEMING. 1 THE SUN —KISS. .. r . 1 v . 1.1.. . . . . . . . .... .. L. . r . . . . . . . _ .. . . . .. . |!|!.||| .. . . . a . . . . J . . . A . . . _ . . . . . . . . n . . K. . . s . . .7. . _ . _ _ . \ . . , p . . .. . .. .. _ . _ ...v.\ . .. H. . h. t , u . S o w ., a, t, w S . “NM! S owe Him .m r. n weedn pmm .. n w m 1 a b H % 9 W. .H Ga 9 1% 1WJ a n '1 LIU .1 a e “am... PM a m e m. a. m r m u a y n 10. G 6 W S b 1|. .0... .u .+.U .\ S O G H O r h 1 H d % g 6 i.b S , W H O .. r m v ....a.. a a l r 6 O Sh .b e h N l 9 d n_Vod w 126 b H b 1 u 01 e d 1k 0 rum 1 1%. r. e>.m I . H m... m. a r aw 9 . .l w n .. a F m r h d c m .1 90 D s Tm W h n .. THE SUN—KISS. Sought she all along the wayside, ’Mong the ferns and waving palms, Where the tiniest flower might hide From her sweet protecting arms. “What fresh treasure are you seeking?” Asked I of the little one, For a myriad blooms were peeping Through the mosses to the sun. “Have you never heard, dear lady, Of the sweetest flower that blooms,— It is neither proud nor stately, ' Like the lily and the rose; “But it brightens every pathway, Springing l’neath your careless tread, Till the sun, with quickening ray, Kisses soft its drooping head. “Then its petals quick unclosing, Freshly _sweet‘ with morning dew,— It is left for our supposing That the story must be true, —- “How it shyly waits the coming Of the glorious King of Day, And that hence the pretty naming ' Of a Sun-Kiss, so they say?” ELIZABETH A. DAVIS. MALMO, THE WOUNDED BAT. A POOR man saw, by the roadside, a large white rat. It seemed to be dead. Moving it gently he found it was alive, but had a. broken leg. He took it up and carried it to his lonely home. He bound up the bruised leg, fed the poor creature, and soon it was quite well. Sam Tills trained the rat to gentle ways, and taught it many little tricks. Malmo was the only company Sam had. He worked MALMO THE WOUNDED RAT. in a. cotton mill, and took Malmo with him. . He rode in his master’s coat-pocket. It looked droll to see his white head peeping out. Sundays both went to dine with Sam’s sister. Malmo’s funny ways made everybody laugh. When Sam said, “Malmo, go sit in my hat,” he went at once. He curled himself up in it, and nodded .\ off to sleep. When his master said, “ Malmo, we’re going now; slip in,” the droll pet jumped from the hat, ran up to his pocket-nest, said good-by in his own fashion, and was ready to start. Evenings, when Sam was reading or singing from his mother’s hymn-book, Malmo had a nap on his master’s head. When it was time to go to bed Sam stroke-d Malmo’s soft fur. The rat rubbed himself against his master’s hand. It was their good-night to each other. Then Malmo crept into his basket—bed, and the candle was blown out. Soon both were fast asleep. F. P. CHAPLIN. TREE—TOADS. DID you ever hear an odd little chirp from some tree or vine near the house? When you caught the musician you found that it was a lively little green toad. He is not much like the great brown fellow who hops about the garden at dusk, catching the bugs and spiders which would soon spoil I your pretty plants. Those of ourv : country are, as I said, small, and very .. ’ near the color of the leaves or bark of the trees to which they cling. They have some very curious relatives in other parts of the world. The mother- toads, in topical Africa, put their eggs on leaves by the side of small streams. When the rain comes it washes them into the water, which will furnish them food after they are hatched. A good old lady toad’s family in Martinique rides about upon her back. In the Andes mamma toadie carries her baby in a sort of bag on her back. In New Guinea there is a curious little fellow, which flies almost like a flying squirrel. His toes and fingers are webbed, and look like great fans outspread, as he springs from limb to limb. They are only four inches in length, and the web of their hind foot expands to four square inches. You see that their feet are their most prominent feature. TREE— T OADS . Nearly all the tree-toads are green or brown in color. A kind Creator gives them this color, as a protection from their enemies, as it makes it more difficult to find them. One species frightens its foes by a luminous secretion; another gives forth a very strong, pungent odor when attacked. Like their neighbor of the garden, they destroy many poisonous insects. ' One bright little fellow is a natural barometer. To make him use- ful he must be placed in a bottle, with a small 11adder. Up this he climbs in pleasant weather, to enjoy the scene, as any one else would. But if the clouds are gathering, or a storm threatens, down to the bottom of the bottle he goes till the weather improves again. MRS. FRANCES SMITH. . - n n t . . . . .I p . - .i. A l . . .. . .. I . t _ t . . . .I t 4 . . . . . . . a I . . . I . . . \ . . 7- 1 . .. .. I . .2. r . a . . Q . . . ... . r . . . . . .. » _ . M v . . h4v . l y 1 . a . 1 . . | . . . . s . . . - . . . a . . . l. . i . .. . - . ~ .l. . . , , . _ . . . . . . | . . .. . . 1 . . . .. \ I A . v . 1.. s . i . . . > L. . \. . - ~ [1‘ .e%%§§ 5 IIIIII AN IIIIIII OF J * w . Ill/Ill!!!III/Ill!Ill/ll!!!Milli/Ill! 3 9015 03961 8387 = LY. a. :j -- _‘ I I1L911 U “arms? (a TA 4 “N . PC 7d . \\ \\.. on. e i l . . a . _ l . v . Q 0 a _ u Q ~ .-. . _ la .5 0 .J I . . . . | F e .— . . . v . 0 . . I \k .3 . u .. R . |l10\ -_ l . . \ . .. a . . \- . . r A \ HVL v M) > a o . . Q‘- L ._.....n..... . 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