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Digitized by the Internet Arcinive 
 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/shortstoriesforsOaspi 
 
SHORT STORIES FOR SHORT PEOPLE 
 
 C 
 
SHORT STORIES 
 
 FOR 
 
 SHORT PEOPLE 
 
 ALICIA ASPINWALL 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 MARIE L. DANFORTH 
 
 NEW YORK 
 B, P. BUTTON & COMPANY 
 
 68 X FirrH Ave. 
 
Copyright 
 
 E. P. BUTTON & CO. 
 
 1896 
 
 FirH Printing Jnne. 1806 
 
 Second " September, i8(ff 
 
 Xkird ' June, 1901 
 
 Fourth ' July. 1005 
 
 Fifth ' August, 1907 
 
 Sixth ' July, 1909 
 
 Seventh " December, zoiO 
 
 Eighth ' May, 1 91 2 
 
 Kinth ' February, 1914 
 
 Tenth ' July. 191 3 
 
 Eleventh ' May, igi? 
 
 Twelfth ■ August, 191S 
 
 Thirteenth * March. 1920 
 
 Fourteenth ' May, 1921 
 
 Fifteenth * August. 1929 
 
 Sixteenth " July. 1023 
 
 Seventeenth June. J924 
 
 Eighteenth " July. 1925 
 
 Nineteenth " March. 191* 
 
 Twentieth " March, 1926 
 
 Twenty-first " November, 1926 
 
 Printed in ^ United States of America 
 
J 
 
 Ljbiaiy, Univ oi 
 Norii) Caroling. 
 
 TO GARDNER 
 
 "THE YOUNGEST MEMBER OF THE HOUSE' 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED 
 
 BY HIS MOTHER 
 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 THESE stories are bits of that pure imagina- 
 tion of which the best types are to be 
 found in Grimm's Collection of German 
 Household Tales, and of which the line was so well 
 continued by Hans Andersen. Many have tried to 
 follow in the same path ; but none, it seems to me, 
 have done it so well as Mrs. Aspinwall. Her stories 
 have that pure impossibility in which children de- 
 light, that fresh vigor which carries attention along, 
 and that suggestion which even children vaguely 
 feel of deeper meanings. " The Quickly-Growing 
 Squash," for instance, is to the child who hears it, 
 as it doubtless was to the author, only a bit of 
 frolic extravaganza ; but if it had been written — as 
 it well might have been — by Tieck or Hoffmann 
 or Musaus, it would have had ere now a dozen 
 
Vlll 
 
 Prefatory Note. 
 
 theories and elucidations advanced by wise com- 
 mentators. It would have been held to express 
 systematically the growth of a sin or of a suspicion 
 or of a superstition, or of any one of half a dozen 
 other things of which the author never dreamed. 
 That is the test of a fantasy-piece, that it has 
 something for all ; it rouses a whole swarm of 
 analogies and suggestions, yielding a moral when 
 the author sought only innocent fun and the 
 delights of narration. The lover of childhood and 
 the lover of creative imagination may alike find 
 pleasure in this book, and it should have ten 
 thousand readers. 
 
 Thomas Wentworth Higginson. 
 
 Cambridge, Mass. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 A Quick-Running Squash . - . i 
 Bosh-Bosh Oil ...... 9 
 
 The Toad . . . . o . . 32 
 
 Tula Oolah 39 
 
 The N. S. Bicycle 56 
 
 The Tiger on the Hudson ... 65 
 Lucia, the Organ-Maiden ... 77 
 
 The Shadow 88 
 
 What the Squirrel Did for Richard . 99 
 The Runaway Watch . . . .112 
 A Grasshopper's Trip to the City . iig 
 The Light-House Lamp . . . .133 
 Monkey Tricks in the Jungle . .138 
 The Upsidedownians . . . .146 
 The Iron Dog 160 
 
Contents. 
 
 My Flannel Rooster 
 
 The Statue and the Birds . 
 
 The Toad-Boy 
 
 The Sad Experience of Poor Pomposity 
 
 Red Boots 
 
 Saved 
 
 The Disobedient Island . 
 
 The Bold Bad Bicycle . 
 
 The Lady of Snow .... 
 
 How the Andirons took a Walk . 
 
 "Achusett's Ride to Philadelphia" 
 
 The Mouse's Revenge . . 
 
 The Tail of a Mouse 
 
A QUICK-RUNNING SQUASH. 
 
 CHARLES owned a garden. One morning 
 his father called him and pointing to four 
 stakes driven in the ground which certainly 
 had not been there the night before, said : 
 
 "All the land within those four stakes is yours, 
 your very own." 
 
 Charles was delighted, and thanking his dear 
 father ran off to get his little cart, for he wished 
 at once to build a stone wall about his property. 
 He did not fear it would run away, but he knew 
 
2 A Quick- Running Squash. 
 
 that land-owners always walled in their posses- 
 sions. 
 
 "After the wall is built," said his father, "you 
 may plant in your garden anything you like, and 
 James will give you what you ask for." 
 
 In two days the wall was built, and a good 
 one it was too, being strong and even. 
 
 The next day James set out some plants 
 for him, and gave the boy some seeds which 
 he planted himself, James telling him how to 
 do it. 
 
 He then got his watering-pot and gently 
 sprinkled the newly planted ground with warm 
 water. Running across the lawn he looked down 
 the road to see if his father had not yet come 
 from the village. His father was nowhere to be 
 seen, but coming down the road was a most 
 remarkable looking man. He was tall and thin 
 and had bright red hair which had evidently not 
 been cut for a very long time. He wore a blue 
 coat, green trousers, red hat, and on his hands, 
 which were large, two very dirty, ragged, white I 
 kid gloves. This wonderful man came up to 
 
A Quick- Running Squash. 3 
 
 Charles and asked for a drink of water, which he, 
 being a polite boy, at once brought. The man 
 thanked him, and then said : 
 
 "What have you been doing this morning, 
 little man?" S 
 
 Charles told him about his new garden, and 
 the man listened with much interest. 
 
 "Little boy," said he, "there is one seed that 
 you have not got." 
 
 "And what is that?" 
 
 " The seed of the quick-running squash." 
 
 Charles's face fell. 
 
 "I don't believe James has that, and I don't 
 know where to get one," he faltered. 
 
 "Now, as it happens," said the man, "I 
 have one of those very seeds in my pocket. It 
 is not, however, that of the common, every- 
 day quick-running squash. This one came from 
 India, and is marvellous for its quick-running 
 qualities. You have been kind to me, little boy, 
 and I will give it to you," and with a peculiar 
 smile, this strange man produced from his pocket, 
 instead of the ordinary squash seed,* an odd, 
 
4 A Quick-Running Squash. 
 
 round, red seed which he gave to Charles, who 
 thanked him heartily, and who ran to plant it at 
 once. Having done so, he went back to ask 
 when the quick-running squash would begin to 
 grow. But the man had disappeared, and aK 
 though Charles looked up and down the dusty 
 road, he could see nothing of him. 
 
 As he stood there, he heard behind him a little 
 rustling noise, and turning, saw coming toward 
 him a green vine. He had, of course, seen vines 
 before, but never, never had he seen such a queer 
 one as this. It was running swiftly toward him, 
 and on the very front was a round yellow ball, 
 about as big as an orange ! Charles looking back! 
 to see where it came from, found that it started 
 in the corner of his garden. And what had hel 
 planted in that corner? Why, to be sure, the 
 seed of the quick-running squash which the 
 strange man had just given him. 
 
 ''Well, well, well," he shouted, in great ex- 
 citement, "what an awfully quick-running squash 
 it is. I suppose that little yellow thing in front is 
 the squash itself. But indeed it must not run 
 
A Quick-Running Squash. 5 
 
 away from me, I must stop it," and he darted 
 swiftly down the street after it. 
 
 But, alas, no boy could run as fast as that 
 squash, and Charles saw far ahead the bright 
 yellow ball now grown to be about the size of 
 an ordinary squash, running and capering merrily 
 over stones big and little, never turning out for 
 anything, but bobbing up and down, up and 
 down, and waving its long green vine like a tail 
 behind it. The boy ran swiftly on. " It shall not 
 get away," he panted. '* It belongs to me." 
 
 But that the squash did not seem to realize 
 at all. He did not feel that he belonged to any- 
 body, and he did feel that he was a quick-running 
 squash, and so on he scampered. 
 
 Suddenly he came to a very large rock, and 
 stopped for a moment to take breath, and in 
 that moment Charles caught up with him and 
 simply sat down on him. 
 
 '• Now, squash," said he, slapping him on the 
 side, " your journey is ended." 
 
 The words were scarcely spoken when he 
 suddenly felt himself lifted up in the air, and 
 
6 A Quick-Running Squash. 
 
 bumpity, bump, over the stone flew the squash, 
 carrying with him his very much astonished little 
 master! The squash had been growing all the 
 time, and was now about three times as big as 
 an ordinary one. Charles, who had a pony of 
 his own, knew how to ride, but never had he 
 ridden anything so extraordinary as this. On 
 they flew, " roll, waddle, bump, bump ; roll, 
 waddle, bang;' the boy digging his knees hard 
 into the sides of the squash to avoid being 
 thrown. He had a dreadfully hard time. Mount 
 the next quick-running squash you meet, and 
 you will see for yourself how it is. 
 
 To Charles's great delight he now saw his 
 father coming toward him, riding his big black 
 horse Nero, who was very much frightened when 
 he saw the boy on such a strange yellow steed. 
 But Nero soon calmed down at his master's 
 voice, and turning, rode along beside the big 
 squash, although he had to go at full speed to do 
 so. ^'Gallopty-gallop " went Nero and "bumpity- 
 bump " went the squash. Papa lost his hat 
 (Charles had parted with his long before). 
 
A Quick-Running Squash. 7 
 
 "What are you doing, my son, and what, 
 what is it you are riding?" asked his father. 
 
 "A quick-running squash, Papa," gasped 
 Charles, who, although bruised and aching, re- 
 fused to give up the squash, and was still 
 pluckily keeping his seat. "Stop it, oh, do stop 
 it. Papa." 
 
 His father knew that this could be no ordinary 
 squash, and saw that it evidently did not intend 
 to stop. 
 
 " I will try to turn it and make it go back," he 
 said, so riding Nero nearer and nearer the squash, 
 he forced it up against a stone wall. But, instead 
 of going back, this extraordinary squash jumped 
 with scarcely a moment's hesitation over the 
 high wall, and went bobbing along into the rough 
 field beyond. But alas, before them was a broad 
 lake, and as he could not swim, back he was 
 forced to turn. Over the wall and back again 
 over the same road and toward the garden 
 whence he came, Charles still on his back and 
 Charles's papa galloping at full speed behind. 
 
 The squash, however, must have had a good 
 
8 A Quick-Running Squash. 
 
 heart, for when he reached the house again, he 
 of his own accord turned in at the gate and 
 ran up to the wall of Charles's garden. There 
 he stopped, for he was now so big that he could 
 not climb walls, and indeed had he been able to 
 get in he would have filled the little garden 
 to overflowing, for he was really enormous. 
 Charles's father had actually to get a ladder for 
 the poor little fellow to climb down, and he was 
 so tired that he had to be carried to the 
 house. But the squash was tired, too, dreadfully 
 tired. I suppose it is a very bad thing for a 
 growing squash to take much exercise. This 
 certainly was a growing squash, and there is also 
 no doubt that he had taken a great deal of exercise 1 
 that morning. Be that as it may, when the family \ 
 were at luncheon, they were alarmed by hearing 
 a violent explosion near the house. Rushing out to 
 see what could have happened, they found that the 
 marvellous quick-running squash had burst! ! It 
 lay spread all over the lawn in a thousand pieces. 
 The family, and all the neighbors' families for 
 miles around, had squash pie for a week. 
 
/^^^^ .. 
 
 BOSH-BOSH OIL. 
 
 A Fairy Story. 
 
 GARDNER had started off by himself for a 
 long tramp through the woods. He had 
 walked qtdte a distance when he suddenly 
 came to a small brown hut, which he was about to 
 pass when he heard cries of pain coming from it. 
 Running quickly to its one window, he looked in, 
 and saw a most extraordinary sight. An old man 
 was alone in the one room, standing near the wall 
 and with his face pressed hard against it. The 
 tears were running down his cheeks, and he was 
 moaning piteously. 
 
lo Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 "What is the matter?" said Gardner, "andi 
 why do you stand there with your face pressed to" 
 the wall?" 
 
 "Come in, little boy, and I will tell you," was 
 the answer. 
 
 Gardner ran in, and seated himself on a three- 
 legged stool, which stood in the middle of the 
 floor. 
 
 "Day before yesterday," began the old fellow, 
 ** I was standing at my door, and a small man, 
 with a tall pointed cap and a long beard, passed, 
 dressed entirely in brown. He tripped and fell, 
 and I laughed, which made him very angry. 'I 
 will teach you to laugh at me,' he scolded. *I am 
 ^L Brownie, and no one may laugh or even look at 
 a Brownie.' Then he told me that in punishment 
 I must stand here with my nose glued to the wall 
 till some kind boy got for me the ' Bosh-Bosh 
 Oil.' If I rub some of that on my nose I shall 
 then be free. Vou have a kind face, and I wonder 
 if you woulS be willing to help me?" 
 
 " Indeed I will get this wonderful oil for you if 
 I can," said Gardner. " Where is it to be found ? " 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 1 1 
 
 "There," and the old man pointed to the top 
 of a mountain near the house. ** But the path 
 is a very steep one, little boy, and the Brownie 
 said there were many dangers to be braved 
 before one could reach the top. When fairly 
 there, however, you will find the oil in a golden 
 box, in a golden house, and guarded by the 
 famous Gold-Bird. Many boys have been here, 
 but no one would venture, and I suppose I shall 
 have to stay here till I die," and he began to 
 weep again. 
 
 Now Gardner was a brave as well as kind 
 ooy, and he was greatly touched by the old 
 man's sad position. 
 
 ''I will go," he said, "and don't lose your 
 courage, for I will come back soon, and if it is a 
 possible thing, bring the oil." 
 
 The old man was delighted, and thanked the 
 boy heartily, as he started on his mission. 
 
 He found the path up the mountain with no 
 difficulty, and a pleasant path it was, being 
 shaded and with flowers on either side. He 
 walked on for a hundred yards or so, when he 
 
12 Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 was stopped by a very strong wire, which was 
 stretched directly across the path. He got down 
 on his knees and tried to crawl under it, but 
 lo and behold, down came the wire and he could 
 not pass it! "I will then jump over it," he 
 said. But when he got up, up it flew, for it 
 was a magic wire, and was there to prevent 
 people going any farther. Gardner looked to the 
 right and left, but found that it stretched way 
 off in the distance, on either side, which made 
 it impossible for him to go round it. He sat * 
 down for a moment, discouraged, but not for 
 long. That very morning he had exchanged with 
 a boy friend a fine three-bladed knife for a big red 
 marble and a wonderfully powerful magnet. This 
 magnet he now took from his pocket, and held , 
 toward the wire. ' 
 
 "Ah, ha!" he shouted, for the wire, though 
 evidently with the utmost reluctance, bent to 
 meet it. Magic though it was, it had to obey 
 the magnet. Gardner held the magnet lower 
 and lower, finally laying it on the ground, and, 
 sadly obeying it, down, down, down came the 
 
 1 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 13 
 
 wire also. Then the boy stepped over it, and it 
 rattled angrily as he did so. Looking back and 
 laughing merrily, he found to his amazement that 
 the wire had disappeared! And not only that, 
 but his magnet as well, had vanished! Gardner 
 was, of course, greatly surprised, but he expected 
 to see strange things, and so, in a moment, 
 continued his journey. 
 
 He had not gone far when he saw before him, 
 sitting in the middle of the path, a small but very 
 pretty Italian greyhound, who was looking at him 
 intently, her little head cocked on one side, and 
 her two ears, which were enormous, raised in the 
 greatest astonishment. * 
 
 "Where did you come from, boy?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "I came from below," he answered, "and my 
 name is not Boy, but 'Gardner,' doggie." 
 
 "And my name is not Doggie, but 'Little 
 Pitcher,'" was the answer while the large ears 
 were held proudly upright. 
 
 "Well, 'Little Pitcher,' you seem to be a nice 
 
 •This picture is taken from a liTing "Little Pitcher." 
 
14 Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 dog, but I cannot waste time talking to you, I 
 must hurry on." 
 
 "I am sorry," said the dog, politely but very 
 firmly, "but this place you shall not pass." , 
 
 Gardner smiled. , 
 
 "You funny little thing," he said; "and how 
 are you going to prevent my doing so?" 
 
 "In this way," and the boy suddenly found 
 himself seated in the path tripped by the nim- 
 ble little hound ! 
 
 Three times was this repeated, till Gardner at 
 last sat down by the side of the path and glared 
 angrily at his small tormentor. Then he remem- 
 bered that he had a cracker in his pocket. Taking 
 it out he offered it to the little animal. 
 
 "Thank you, I have already dined," was thq 
 dignified answer. 
 
 "Then don't you want to come for a walk 
 with me?" and Gardner smiled persuasively at 
 the dog, who wagged her tail but said she had 
 just returned from a long walk. 
 
 The boy's heart sank. There remained but 
 one more thing to try. 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 ^b 
 
 " On my way up here," he began (and truth- 
 fully too), '' I saw a cat" 
 
 At this Pitcher's eyes glistened, and she was visi- 
 bly affected, although she was silent for a moment 
 Then coming nearer the boy, she whispered : 
 
y Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 "What kind of a cat? Big and strong and 
 a fighter, I daresay?" 
 
 "No, rather a gentle, frightened looking cat." 
 The small dog's body grew suddenly rigid. Her 
 eyes rolled. She smacked her lips and said: 
 
 "Ah, well, she was very near her home, I 
 suppose? " 
 
 "No, in a field." 
 
 "Z'hounds! You don't say so? Of course she 
 was near shelter of some sort? Near a tree?" 
 
 "No, in an open field." 
 
 "You don't say so?" 
 
 Pitcher was now trembling and her voice was 
 hoarse with excitement. 
 
 "This cat — this cat," she panted, "was facing 
 the road, I suppose?" 
 
 "On the contrary," said Gardner, "her back 
 was toward the road, and she was sound asleep." 
 
 "Back toward the road — and asleep! Great 
 Sirius! This is too much!! I cannot let this 
 chance go," and with a howl of delirious excite- 
 ment, Pitcher vanished down the path! Gardner, 
 laughing heartily, went osk. 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 17 
 
 But only for a few steps, for his way was again 
 blocked. This time by a bush, a cruel looking 
 bush, covered with long, sharp thorns which grew 
 directly in the middle of the path. The boy tried 
 to pass on the right side, when to his amazement, 
 the thorn-bush gave a funny little hop and placed 
 itself directly in front of him. He then ran quickly 
 to the left, but the bush ran too, and stood firmly 
 before him, again barring the way. 
 
 While wondering what to do, he saw lying on 
 the ground near, a small box. Full of curiosity 
 he opened it and found it contained a large fat 
 yeast cake. But it was not a common everyday 
 yeast cake, for it smelt like delicious candy. 
 Gardner tasted it carefully, and finding it was as 
 good as it smelt, ate it all, and then what do 
 you think happened? He suddenly felt himself 
 rise. Up, up, up he was lifted, high over the 
 thorn bush, and then down, down, down he 
 slowly came on the other side. For the yeast 
 he had eaten was made in fairyland, and, working 
 much quicker than ours can, had made Gardner 
 rise at once. Four times he bounded up into 
 
i8 
 
 Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 the air, each time being carried not quite so high, 
 and the last time he was dropped right in front 
 of a boy who was seated in the middle of the 
 
 
 
 /V>' 
 
 .«■> 
 
 path, and who looked at him in surprise. Thisi 
 boy was older than Gardner, and he was big and I 
 fat, and, to Gardner's horror, he had a bright blue 
 face. 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 19 
 
 " What are you bounding along in that absurd 
 way for?" he asked, and Gardner told him about 
 the yeast cake and begged him to let him go on 
 his way. 
 
 " No," said Blue-Face, with much firmness, 
 "that I shall not do. I have sat here for five 
 years, and shall do so for the next five. Come 
 again in five years, and then perhaps I will let 
 you pass." 
 
 "Oh," said Gardner, "that will be much too 
 late. I am in a great hurry, for I wish to get 
 some of the Bosh-Bosh Oil for the poor old man 
 I at the foot of the hill. He is suffering." 
 
 "Well," said Blue-Face, indifferently, "that, 
 of course, is nothing to me. I cannot let you 
 pass." 
 
 Gardner put his hand into his pocket and drew 
 forth the big red marble. 
 
 " Oh, what a beauty," said Blue-Face ad- 
 miringly. 
 
 " It shall be yours, if you will let me pass." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then it shall be yours if you can catch it" 
 
20 Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 "Take your offer and thanks for it," said Blue 
 Face. 
 
 Gardner then threw up the marble, and in 
 such a way that when it fell it must roll down 
 the path. This it did, and Blue-Face, seeing 
 what was now his own property rolling rapidly 
 down the hill away from him, forgot everything 
 and dashed after it, while Gardner, seizing his 
 chance, flew in the other direction. 
 
 "Good-bye, Blue-Face," he shouted, but re- 
 ceiving no answer, looked back, to find no boy, 
 and, alas, no marble. 
 
 "What a strange path this is," he said, "and 
 how can things disappear so quickly." 
 
 The air was now suddenly filled with deafen- 
 ing barks. " Bow-wow-wow " in a very high key, 
 " bow-wow- wow " in a middle-sized key, and I 
 " bow-wow- wow " in a very low key. Gardner 
 stopped and looked about him, but saw no dogs. I 
 
 "Those are dogs, I know," he said, "andj 
 wherever they are, I am sure I hope they are \ 
 muzzled," for he could not help feeling a bit 
 nervous. 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 21 
 
 A sharp turn, and a strange sight was before 
 him. In the very middle of the path stood an 
 enormous brown jug, and in this jug, and appar- 
 ently fastened by their tails, were about twenty 
 
 snakes ! At least Gardner thought they were 
 snakes, till on examination he found that each 
 had the head of a dog. One the small head of 
 a black and tan, another of the impertinent pug, 
 
22 Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 one of the big, shaggy St. Bernard, another of 
 the Newfoundland, and so on ; and each dog-head 
 was barking its loudest, while the snake-bodies 
 were writhing wildly from side to side. The 
 boy's heart sank. 
 
 " Never, never, can I pass those — those — 
 things — whatever they are," he said. Then he 
 remembered the poor old man waiting for him. 
 
 "Good dogs, good doggies," he said, in a 
 wheedling tone, though his teeth were chattering 
 with fear. 
 
 His answer was louder barking from the dog- 
 snakes, and wilder writhing from the snake-dogs. 
 Suddenly he thought of the cracker in his pocket. 
 Breaking off a piece, he threw it down near the 
 jug. " Snap," and one of the dog-snakes had 
 eaten it, and with apparent relish. Then he broke 
 up all the crackers into small pieces, and going as 
 near the big jug as he dared, threw them on the 
 ground at one side. All the dog-snakes bent at 
 once to eat them, which for a second left the other 
 side free, and in that second, but with his heart J 
 beating hard, Gardner darted by The dogs, find^ 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 23 
 
 ing that he had escaped them, gave one tremen- 
 dous bark, and then — ^when the boy looked back, 
 nothing was to be seen except the dusty, brown 
 path stretching off behind him. 
 
 On he trudged and suddenly stepped into 
 something horrid, very black and fearfully sticky. 
 He drew back his foot quickly, but in doing so, 
 the boot was actually torn from him. He then 
 tried to go round the sticky mass, but, alas, it 
 seemed to extend on either side as far as the eye 
 could reach. Then he tried to pull out his boot, 
 but it was as firmly imbedded as if it had grown 
 there. 
 
 " This," he said, " is the very worst place I 
 have reached yet. What shall I do ? " 
 
 A bunch of brilliant yellow flowers now at- 
 tracted his attentions. 
 
 "Buttercups," he said, "and what monstrous 
 ones they are, and oh, what in the world does 
 this mean? They are real buttercups." For, on 
 stooping to examine them, he found that each 
 little yellow flower was filled to overflowing with 
 something that certainly looked like very good 
 
24 Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 butter. Gardner was amazed, and then a funny 
 thought came to him. ''Why not butter my feet, 
 and then perhaps I shall be able to cross this pitch 
 pond." So laughing at the thought, he carefully 
 covered the sole of his boot and the sole of his 
 stocking (and very nasty that felt, too) with the 
 butter. Then he cautiously tried one foot on the 
 pitch, and found that he could now walk over it 
 with the utmost ease ! He had soon crossed it, 
 and turned to give one last look at his lost boot, 
 when — and Gardner rubbed his eyes to make sure, 
 for he thought he must be mistaken — he found 
 that the black, sticky mass had disappeared, and 
 with it his boot ! 
 
 He had scarcely recovered from his astonish- 
 ment, when he was startled by hearing a tre- 
 mendous '' quaaaacky Looking up, he saw, a 
 little way up the path, a monster duck — never 
 had he imagined such an enormous bird. Its 
 mouth was wide open, and was fully as large as a 
 window I This alarming creature was coming 
 down upon Gardner as fast as she could waddle, 
 and her eves were snapping angrily. He had, 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 2 5 
 
 poor boy, but a moment in which to make up his 
 mind, and what do you think he did ? Seizing a 
 handful of buttercups (and how fortunate it was 
 for him that they happened to grow right there) he 
 covered his entire head with butter. Then gather- 
 
 ing himself together, he ran toward the duck with 
 a tremendous rush, ^e was the very best runner 
 at school, which was, of course, of the greatest 
 assistance to him in doing this wonderful thing. 
 
 Can you credit me, when I tell you that Gardner 
 jumped directly into the widely opened mouth of 
 the monster duck, and that he went with such tre- 
 mendous force that he shot right through her, land- 
 ing a foot beyond her, face down, on the ground 1 
 
26 Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 Of course, his slippery, buttered head was a great, 
 great help to him, but it was in any case a most 
 marvellous thing for a boy to have done, was 
 it not ? He lay there for five minutes, without 
 moving, for he felt, naturally, quite weak. Then, 
 remembering the poor old man, he slowly 
 picked himself up, and went on, first turning to 
 see what had become of the duck, whose dead 
 body he expected to see. But no duck, either 
 dead or alive, was there. He was, however, be- 
 yond being astonished at anything now. 
 
 '*I don't at all like the feeling of this butter on 
 my head," he said, as he continued his journey, 
 " and I wish I could find some water, so that I 
 could wash it off." 
 
 His wish was gratified, for there, right before 
 him, was a well. And not only a well, but a 
 bucket, too. This Gardner filled, and succeeded in 
 washing most of the butter from his head. Then 
 he saw that to continue on his road, he must either 
 go round the well, or step over it. To go round 
 was impossible, as the ground on either side was 
 too steep. To step over was equally impossible, 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 27 
 
 for the well was very large. ** Butter won't help 
 me here," he thought, sadly. Looking down into 
 the well he called out, 
 
 "Won't you please go off, Well, and let me 
 get the Bosh-Bosh Oil for the poor old man ?" 
 
 And then, he almost fell into the hole, for a 
 voice far, far below answered, saying, 
 
 "Who is speaking to me?" 
 
 Gardner was much frightened, for he thought 
 this must be some other boy who had fallen into 
 the well. 
 
 "Who are you?" he called out. 
 
 "Truth," came the answer, and then Gardner 
 remembered to have heard that " truth lies at the 
 bottom of a well." 
 
 " I wish you would come up here, Truth," he 
 said (for an idea had suddenly come to him). 
 
 "Very well," said Truth, "wait a moment and I 
 will be there." 
 
 Gardner promised, for, indeed, what else could 
 he do but wait ? Soon a scrambling and scratching 
 was heard, and Truth slowly crept up till he reached 
 a big stone which jutted out at one side, about 
 
28 Bosh-Bosh Oil 
 
 two feet from the top. And on this he sat, while 
 Gardner looked at him in astonishment, for he was 
 truly a most remarkable fellow. He looked 
 young, he looked old. He was very big and 
 round, and he had the kindest, frankest, sweetest 
 face you can imagine. Gardner thought at first 
 he must be made of glass, for he was so wonder- 
 fully transparent — you could see right through him. 
 
 ''Now, boy," said he, "what do you want to 
 ask me?" 
 
 "Why you don't tell the truth at all times?" 
 
 **Tell the truth at all times? I do. I am Truth 
 itself," was the indignant answer. 
 
 "But every one says that 'truth lies at the bot- 
 tom of a well.* " 
 
 At this Truth laughed heartily, so heartily that 
 he almost fell from his slippery seat, and then he 
 explained that it was a different kind of a "lie." 
 
 "But I don't see," continued Gardner, "why 
 you live at the bottom of a well, anyway. I should 
 think you would prefer the top. But perhaps, 
 Truth, you can't lie down as easily at the top of a 
 well." 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 29 
 
 "Oh, yes, Truth can go anywhere," was the 
 proud answer. ** I will show you," and crawling up, 
 he lay down over the well, completely covering it. 
 
 This was the little boy's chance, for which he 
 had been waiting. With one bound he was over, 
 using poor Truth for a bridge, but stepping very 
 lightly, not to hurt him. He heard a great splash, 
 a loud cry from Truth, and looked back to see — 
 nothing, nothing but the dusty path. The well 
 and fat, pleasant Truth had vanished ! 
 
 Now as the boy went on, the path changed. 
 It became very beautiful. On either side most 
 gorgeous flowers filled the air with delicious 
 perfume, while lovely birds, which Gardner had 
 never seen before, sang loudly. Suddenly, he felt 
 a light touch on his arm, and turning, saw beside 
 him a wee maid — a fairy. 
 
 "Gardner," said she, "you have been a very 
 brave boy. You have passed in safety all the 
 dangers of the path, and I will now lead you to 
 the Golden Temple, containing the Bosh-Bosh Oil, 
 which is guarded by the famous Gold-Bird." 
 
 So Gardner walked on with her, trembling with 
 
30 Bosh-Bosh Oil. 
 
 excitement. Sweet music was heard — a soft yel- 
 low light shone on him, and then, looking up, he 
 saw before him — the Te^nple. It was a round 
 house made of solid, shining, yellow gold. Slen- 
 der gold pillars supported the roof, which was 
 made of diamonds, and was too dazzlingly beauti- 
 ful to look at. They entered and sat down on 
 the wonderful chairs, which were made of precious 
 stones, one being of sapphire, one of rubies, one 
 of emeralds, and so on. A small gold table stood 
 in the middle of the room. On it was a golden 
 box containing the wonderful oil, and guarded by 
 the Gold-Bird. His head was a huge diamond, 
 his eyes two brilliant emeralds, and his body and 
 wings were of gold. When he saw Gardner, he 
 opened the box-lid with his bill, and there lay 
 seven tiny bottles of the wonderful oil, which to tell 
 the truth, looked just like kerosene. The fairy 
 gave one bottle to Gardner, who thanked her and 
 the bird, and with his prize clasped in his hands, 
 ran swiftly down the path, delighted to think that 
 even if he had lost his boot and his marble and 
 magnet, he could now help the poor old man. 
 
Bosh-Bosh Oil. 31 
 
 He had reached the foot of the path, when he 
 saw a small black object, lying directly in the mid- 
 dle of it. When he came up to it, he found, to 
 his delight, that it was his boot. Sitting down, he 
 tried to put it on, but something hard in the heel 
 prevented his doing so. Putting in his hand, he 
 drew out his magnet. Again he tried, and this 
 time something round and hard in the toe pre- 
 vented him. This proved to be his lost marble — 
 and now the little boy was quite, quite happy. 
 
 Running to the hut, he found that the old man 
 was crying as if his heart would break, for he 
 thought that the boy, who had been gone a long 
 time, was never coming with the magic oil, and 
 that he would have to remain there, his face pressed 
 to the wall, till death came. Gardner ran to him 
 and showed his treasure, and they at once rubbed 
 some of the oil on the poor old sufferer's nose, 
 which, as the Brownie had said, immediately be- 
 came free / 
 
 And then Gardner, followed by the old man's 
 thanks and blessings, went home. 
 
THE TOAD. 
 
 ONE day Reginald's mamma asked him if he 
 would n't like to get some mushrooms. He 
 said he would, and taking his pail in his 
 hand, off he went. First to a place where he thought 
 he had seen some growing, but they proved to be 
 toad-stools, which, although pretty, are very dan- 
 gerous to eat. Reginald knew this, so he did not 
 touch them, but went on farther. Soon he found 
 a beautiful mushroom, and was about to pick it, 
 when a voice quite near, said : 
 " Boy, how do you do ? " 
 
 Reginald turned, but seeing no one thought he 
 must have been mistaken, and again stooped to 
 pick the mushroom, when he saw, sitting beside 
 it, an enormous toad. Just then he again heard^ 
 
 the same voice, and this time louder : 
 
 an 
 
The Toad. 33 
 
 ** I said, boy, how do you do ? " And if you 
 can believe me, the voice was the toad's voice, 
 and it was he who had spoken ! Reginald, who 
 had never heard a toad speak before, and in fact 
 did n't know that they could, was so much 
 astonished that he fairly gasped. 
 
 "That mushroom," continued the toad, calmly, 
 "is mine, and you cannot have it. Go and pick 
 those toad-stools." 
 
 " But," said Reginald, who had somewhat 
 recovered from his astonishment, "I don't want 
 any toad-stools." 
 
 "Well, then," said the toad, "of course, that is 
 not my fault, now is it?" 
 
 "No," said Reginald, somewhat timidly. 
 
 "Then the best thing for you to do, boy, is to 
 go home." 
 
 " But, I came to pick mushrooms for my 
 mamma, and I certainly shall not go home because 
 a toad tells me to do so. I am not ready to go." 
 
 " Oh," said the toad, " I beg your pardon ; I 
 thought perhaps, you were ready. If you are not, 
 then why don't you stay here? And if you stay, 
 
34 The Toad. 
 
 
 perhaps you would like to go fishing with me ? It 
 will really give me much pleasure to show you 
 how I catch fish." 
 
 Reginald, who was very, very fond of fishing, 
 could not resist this, and said : 
 
 " Yes, thank you, I should like that very 
 much." 
 
 Then the toad stood on his hind legs, slipped 
 his cold, slimy hand in the boy's, and on they 
 walked toward the brook. 
 
 '* You are really the most remarkable toad I ever 
 saw," said Reginald. " What is your name?" 
 
 ''Wait," was the answer, ''and perhaps you 
 may guess it before our walk is over." 
 
 As soon as they reached the brook, the toad 
 seated himself on the very edge, in the mud. 
 
 "Sit down beside me," said he to Reginald, 
 who did not at all like to do this, for he did n't 
 want to get wet. But he had often been told by 
 his father that whenever he went fishing with 
 any one, he must do just as he was told to do, 
 so when the toad said again, "Sit down here," 
 this time very sternly, why Reginald — ^sat down. 
 
REGINALD AND THE TOAD. PAGE 34. 
 
36 The Toad. 
 
 "Now," said the toad, "I think I may truly say, 
 that you will be surprised." So they waited and 
 waited and waited and waited, and no fish came. 
 
 At last Reginald lost all patience, and said, " I 
 will wait no longer, I have not seen a single fish." 
 
 " Then," said the toad, " if they don't come, 
 I can't catch them, can I ? But there is one thing 
 I can do, and I do it well, too, and that is to catch 
 butterflies. Would you like to see me do it? " 
 
 "Toads can't catch butterflies," said Reginald, 
 contemptuously. 
 
 " I ask you again, rude boy, will you come 
 and see me catch butterflies ? " 
 
 " I should like to very much." 
 
 "Then come, and you are to look up in the 
 sky all the time, and when you see a butterfly, 
 tell me," directed the toad. 
 
 So on they went, the toad holding Reginald's 
 hand, and Reginald looking up into the sky. But 
 although they walked for more than an hour, and 
 the poor boy's neck ached cruelly, not one butterfly 
 did they see. 
 
 At last, Reginald, as before; lost patience, and 
 
The Toad. 37 
 
 sitting down, said angrily : "I shall go no farther. 
 I have not seen any butterflies at all." 
 
 " Well," said the toad, " then of course you 
 don't blame me for not catching them. You seem 
 tired, and you are hungry too, I am sure. Are 
 you fond of wild honey?" 
 
 '• I never tasted any." 
 
 "You don't say so," said the toad; **then 
 come,'* and Reginald, much delighted, followed 
 him. They walked on and on and ?n, till the 
 poor boy was ready to drop with fatigue. At last 
 they returned to the very spot where they had 
 first started from. And now, what do you sup- 
 pose that horrid, disagreeable toad did ? He 
 walked to the mushroom, and sitting down upon 
 it, said, "Well, Boy, have you had a pleasant 
 walk?" 
 
 Reginald was, of course, very angry. "I 
 think you are a horrid, wicked toad I " said he, 
 " a perfect frauds 
 
 "Ah, ha," said the toad, "I thought perhaps 
 you would guess my name, and you have done 
 so. My name is — 'Fraud' And., little boy, there 
 
38 The Toad. 
 
 are no fish in that brook ; and there are never any 
 butterflies in these woods, nor is there any wild 
 honey, for there are no bees. Also, there is but 
 one mushroom here, and as I am sitting on that, 
 there is, as you see, not *mush room' for you. 
 So, as I remarked to you about three hours ago, 
 go homer 
 
 Those were the toad's last words, and poor 
 Reginald, grieved and angry, did go home, 
 with an aching neck and an empty pail; and 
 told his dear mamma all about it. 
 
TULA OOLAH. 
 
 LITTLE Celia Cameron lived with her 
 mother in a cottage by the sea. Her fa- 
 ther had been a fisherman, but was drowned 
 some years before, when Celia was quite a baby. 
 Since then her poor mother had to work very 
 hard to support herself and her child. She did 
 washing for the rich city-people who spent the 
 summer at the big hotel half a mile down the 
 beach. Good little Celia did all she could to help 
 her mother, by gathering driftwood for their 
 winter fire. There was much of this wood to be 
 found on the beach, for many a good ship was 
 wrecked on that dangerous coast. This occupa- 
 tion brought little Celia nearly every day to the 
 beach, where she was as much at home splashing 
 in the water, as any fish. 
 
 39 
 
40 Tula Oolah. 
 
 There were many seals on that coast, who used 
 to come up in the early morning and sit round 
 sociably together, sunning themselves, and lazily 
 rubbing their sides against the rocks. Whether 
 it was because they had got used to seeing her, or 
 because they thought Celia must somehow belong 
 to them on account of her name, I don't know, 
 but they certainly were not afraid of her, but would 
 come quite near, and sometimes even allow her 
 to stroke their wet glossy backs. 
 
 There was one seal in particular, with whom 
 she became quite intimate. She often brought 
 him bits of her breakfast, going without herself, 
 poor little thing, in order to do so. Of course 
 the seal did not know that, but he certainly 
 seemed to be very fond of her, and to appreci- 
 ate her kindness, looking at her with love and 
 gratitude, in his great soft eyes. After a while 
 he seemed to feel that it was not right for him 
 to be the one to receive presents, and to give 
 nothing in return, so after this, every time that 
 Celia appeared he would dive into the deep water, 
 and come to her proudly bearing a gift And 
 
Tula Oolah. 41 
 
 such odd gifts they were : fishes, sometimes liv- 
 ing, sometimes dead, bits of wood, a piece of an 
 old chain, and another time a piece of slimy sea- 
 weed, fully ten feet long. Once he brought her a 
 beautiful pink shell. 
 
 Celia was always very careful to thank the seal 
 (Soft-Eyes, she called him) for all the things he 
 brought her, whether she really liked them or 
 not, for she would not have hurt his feelings for 
 anything. But when she saw the beautiful pink 
 shell, she gave a shout of delight, and stooping, 
 kissed Soft-Eyes right on his wet head. He 
 gave a little contented grunt, and nestled up to 
 her, and there they both sat for a long time, sun- 
 ning themselves, Soft-Eyes munching the cracker 
 she had brought, and Celia examining the lovely 
 shell. It was afterward put on a shelf in the one 
 room of the tiny cottage, and every one admired 
 it, for it was not often that any one had so pretty a 
 shell, and particularly one brought up from the 
 ocean-bed and given by a soft-eyed, friendly seal. 
 One day Celia went to the rocks, and her dear 
 friend was not there. 
 
42 Tula Oolah. 
 
 "Soft-Eyes," she called, and several seals bobbed 
 up their heads, but Soft-Eyes was not among them. 
 
 Seating herself she waited, thinking perhaps he 
 had gone farther, trying to get another pink 
 shell for her. "He will be here," she said, and 
 sure enough she soon heard a great puffing, 
 snorting noise, and on came Soft-Eyes swim- 
 ming slowly toward her, and carrying in his 
 mouth — something. What it was she could not 
 make out. Twice it slipped from him and he had 
 to dive for it. When he got nearer, Celia saw that 
 it was an iron box, he was carrying. Crawling up 
 on the rocks, he dropped this strange gift by her 
 side, and then looked triumphantly into her face 
 with eyes that said plainly, "There, what do you 
 think of that for a gift?" 
 
 Celia didn't know what to say but looked at 
 the box with the greatest astonishment. 
 
 "Where did you get it, Soft-Eyes?" she said, 
 but he only grunted, thinking, no doubt, that the 
 little girl was thanking him again for what he had 
 brought her. And indeed it had been no easy 
 matter for him to pick up that heavy iron box from 
 
Tula Oolah. 43 
 
 the bottom of the ocean, where it had lain almost 
 hidden by great pieces of iron, and a pile of rot- 
 ten timbers, which had crumbled as he pulled away 
 the box, and which was all that remained of a big 
 ship that had been wrecked there many, many years 
 before. 
 
 But of this the seal knew nothing, nor, of 
 course, did Celia. The box was about a foot 
 square, made of iron, and was locked, and there 
 was no name or inscription of any sort on it. 
 
 "Where is the key, Soft-Eyes?" said Celia, 
 but he made no answer. 
 
 Then she decided to break the lock, so running 
 home, she got a hammer, and a very heavy iron 
 spike. She thought it only right to open the box 
 on the beach, in the presence of the seal, for she 
 could not help feeling that he would be as much 
 interested as she to see what it contained. 
 
 And indeed he seemed to be, and sat there 
 breathing hard, with his big eyes fixed steadily on 
 the little girl who, with beating hearty at last suc- 
 ceeded in prying open the lock. Lifting the lid, 
 Celia and Soft-Eyes looked in, and saw, fitted 
 
44 Tula Oolah. 
 
 neatly into the box, another, exactly like the first 
 Taking it out, they found that that too was locked. 
 Placing it on the rock between herself and Soft- 
 Eyes, Celia looked through the key-hole, but could 
 see nothing. 
 
 Suddenly both she and the seal started back, 
 and looked in terror at the box, for from it came 
 an awful sound, as of some one in distress I The 
 voice was soft and muffled, and sounded like a 
 child moaning. The seal was so much alarmed, 
 that he scuttled off, and was about to jump into 
 the water, when poor little Celia called piteously 
 to him. 
 
 ** Come back, Soft-Eyes," she said, " don't 
 leave me all alone with this thing, whatever it 
 is," and the seal, who, at heart, was ashamed of 
 his cowardice, came back, though with evident re- 
 luctance. 
 
 "Now," said Celia, "whatever is in this, is 
 small, and I am sure can't hurt us much, and I 
 am going to find out what it is." 
 
 So with some difficulty, she broke the lock and, 
 saw still another box ! At this, both she and Soft- 
 
Tula Oolah. 45 
 
 Eyes felt relieved. The seal came quite near, and 
 even bravely smelt of it, which, after all, was a 
 good deal for him to do, as he was frightened al- 
 most out of his wits. 
 
 Celia lifted the third box out, and now the cries 
 of the creature, or whatever it was, inside, grew 
 very loud. This box differed from the others, be- 
 ing made of brass, prettily ornamented with scroll- 
 work. It was quite dry, all the boxes being so 
 tightly fitted into each other, that the sea-water 
 had been unable to force its way in. 
 
 This, too, was locked, but its key hung on the 
 handle at the side. Unlocking it, Celia opened the 
 lid very cautiously. The seal, meanwhile, had gone 
 to the edge of the rock again, ready to at once 
 jump into the water, should an enemy spring out 
 upon them. But as nothing of the kind happened, 
 curiosity got the better of him, and joining Celia, 
 they both looked into the box together, and saw, 
 standing in the middle of it, an elephant about 
 eight inches long ! 1 
 
 He was exquisitely made and his wee trunk 
 was waving restlessly from side to side, while he 
 
46 Tula Oolah. 
 
 moaned piteously, " Tula Oolah, Tula Oolah," 
 over and over again. Celia lifted him out of 
 the box on to her lap, and found to her aston- 
 ishment, that he was not alive, but was made of 
 some hard metal — brass, she thought, for the color 
 was yellow. 
 
 " But, if he is not alive, then how can he wave 
 his trunk and talk? And what, Soft-Eyes, oh, 
 what is he saying?" 
 
 But of course the seal did n't know, and he 
 evidently did not like the looks of the uncanny 
 little elephant at all, for as the small creature 
 raised his voice, and said louder and with still 
 more piteous sound, "Tula Oolah," Soft-Eyes 
 gave a yell of terror, jumped into the water, and 
 for three days Celia saw nothing of him ! 
 
 She put the poor little animal back into the 
 brass box, and locking it, carried it home and put 
 it on the table. Her mother was away for the 
 whole day, and Celia ran to the cupboard, and 
 took out the glass of milk, which had been left 
 there for her dinner. She poured a little into a 
 saucer. 
 
4 
 
48 Tula Oolah. 
 
 "He must be hungry," she said, "and perhaps 
 * Tula Oolah ' means ' give me food ' in the ele- 
 phant language." 
 
 But when she took the little creature out and 
 offered him the milk, he did not take it, and 'twas 
 the same with the bread she then gave him. 
 
 "Oh, what can it be that you want?" said 
 tender hearted Celia, who was greatly distressed 
 by its evident grief. 
 
 "Tula Oolah," was the answer. 
 
 At last she could bear it no longer, and lock- 
 ing the elephant in his box, she went off for drift- 
 wood, taking her lunch with her, for she meant to 
 wait till her mother came home before going into 
 the house, and listening again to that pitiful cry. 
 She gathered a great deal of wood, which she piled 
 neatly in the shed at the back of the cottage. 
 
 At last, when the sun began to go down, Celia 
 saw her mother coming, far down the beach, and 
 ran to meet her. Her mother was much as- 
 tonished, when she heard the story of the elephant, 
 and much more astonished when she saw the little 
 animal herself, and listened to his moaning cry. 
 
Tula Oolah. 49 
 
 "Celia," said she, "perhaps he is talking French. 
 Now, there is a French gentleman at the hotel, 
 and to-morrow I will ask him to come and see 
 the elephant, and perhaps he can understand 
 him." 
 
 So the next morning at about ten Professor 
 Turier came to the cottage. 
 
 "Where ees de leedle elephante?" said he, 
 and when he saw him, he began : 
 
 " Bonjour, vous parlez Francais?" 
 
 "Tula Oolah," answered the elephant. 
 
 "Que voulez-vous ? " continued the French 
 gentleman, and "Tula Oolah," moaned the ele- 
 phant. 
 
 At last the Frenchman went away, and told 
 all the people at the hotel what he had seen. 
 Among them was a German. 
 
 " I vill minezelf haf von gonverzazhuns mit dot 
 leedle elephantchen," said he, and followed by 
 the two hundred and thirty guests of the hotel, 
 he went to the cottage. 
 
 " Nun, elephantchen," said he, when he and 
 each of the two hundred and thirty guests had 
 
50 Tula Oolah. 
 
 satisfied their curiosity by looking at the mar- 
 vellous little animal. "Wie geht's?" 
 
 "Tula Oolah," was the answer. 
 
 "So? Kannst also kein Deutsch sprechen? 
 Don't shpeak chermans, eh?" enquired the Ger- 
 man gentleman, sadly. 
 
 "Tula Oolah," replied the elephant with equal 
 sadness, and so the interview ended. 
 
 Then one of the ladies advised Celia's mothei 
 to take him to the gang of Italians who were work- 
 ing on the bridge below the hotel. 
 
 "What he says sounds to me like Italian," sh( 
 said. But when the Italians heard the "Tuk 
 Oolah" they could make nothing of it, nor die 
 the elephant pay the slightest attention to them, 
 although they talked loudly and all together. 
 
 At last the landlord said, " Mrs. Cameron, to- 
 morrow a gentleman, a Mr. Newcombe, is coming 
 here, who understands elephants — I mean real 
 ones. He has lived in India for many years. He, 
 I think, will be able to help you." 
 
 When Mr. Newcombe arrived, he heard about 
 the little elephant, first from the clerk, and then 
 
Tula Oolah. 51 
 
 from each of the two hundred and thirty guests, 
 and the following day, the procession, he leading 
 it, came to the cottage, and he at last was able to 
 help them. 
 
 **Tula Oolah?" he said enquiringly to the 
 elephant, and "Tula Oolah," answered the little 
 creature, no longer sadly but joyfully. 
 
 " I understand him," said Mr. Newcombe. 
 " He is speaking the language of a people who 
 live in the southeastern part of northwestern 
 Hindoostan. Now, it happens that I lived right 
 among those very people for several years, and 
 am glad you came to me, as I am probably the 
 only man in this country who can speak and 
 understand their language." 
 
 "Then what, oh what, is he saying?" asked 
 Celia, and her mother, and the two hundred and 
 thirty guests. 
 
 "He says 'tula oolah,' which means 'put me 
 in the water' " 
 
 " But what for ? " said Celia and the two 
 hundred and thirty, but Mrs. Cameron ran at 
 once to fill her largest tub with water. When it 
 
52 Tula Oolah. 
 
 was full, little Celia dropped the elephant, who 
 was now shrieking "Tula Oolah, Tula Oolah," joy- 
 fully, and at the top of his voice, into the middle 
 of the tub ! The minute his feet touched the 
 water, he raised his trunk, threw his head back 
 and gave vent to a most ear-piercing shriek! 
 How such a small creature could produce such 
 a sound, was hard to understand, and the 
 German gentleman and the French gentleman, 
 were so much alarmed, that they immediately ran 
 out of the cottage ! 
 
 The two hundred and thirty guests who were 
 waiting outside, hearing the loud cry, and seeing 
 the two frightened gentlemen, who were evi- 
 dently bent on getting away as quickly as possible, 
 became alarmed too, and ran for their lives, and 
 the beach was soon quite deserted. In the cottage 
 itself, only Celia and her mother and the ex- 
 Indian gentleman were left, and they all stood 
 there, watching carefully the wee elephant, to see 
 what would happen next. 
 
 He swam lazily round the tub three times, 
 trumpeting loudly and apparently having a very 
 
Tula Oolah. 53 
 
 fine time. The water in the tub, meanwhile, had 
 begun to change. It had grown quite thick — like 
 molasses, and was of a bright yellow color. After 
 the elephant had been round the three times, he 
 swam slowly to the middle. There he remained 
 for fully a minute, trumpeting occasionally, but 
 more softly, while the water grew constantly 
 thicker and yellower. 
 
 At last, raising his trunk once more, he said 
 softly and very sadly, ''Oolah," and then began 
 slowly to sink ! 
 
 "Oh," screamed Celia, "he is drowning," and 
 she put out her hand to save him, but the gentle- 
 man prevented her, reminding her that the little 
 creature was not really alive. 
 
 " I think I know all about this, but wait," he 
 said. 
 
 Down, down, down went the elephant, till 
 only the very top of his head could be seen. 
 Then that too disappeared, leaving only a little 
 depression. At this the three looked for a 
 moment, till even that vanished, and the tub stood 
 there filled with a solid yellow mass of something. 
 
54 Tula Oolah. 
 
 It was perfectly hard and smooth and looked like 
 burnished brass. They tried to lift it, but found 
 it so heavy that it was utterly impossible for them 
 to move it. Mr. Newcombe then hurried away, 
 and soon returned with a chemist who examined 
 carefully what was in the tub, and pronounced it 
 to be pure gold ! , 
 
 They were all, of course, very, very much sur- * 
 prised, except, indeed, Mr. Newcombe. 
 
 *' I suspected this might be gold," he said, " and 
 I will tell you why. I have, as I told you, lived 
 among the people in the southeastern part of 
 northwestern Hindoostan, the country from which 
 this elephant probably originally came. It is a 
 mountainous region, and the people live isolated 
 lives. They have many interesting legends which 
 have been handed down from father to son, and 
 among them one that I think may apply to this 
 case." Then Mr. Newcombe translated the legend 
 for them : 
 
 " If you find an elephant, made of brass, 
 
 An elephant small and old — 
 Through * Oolah ' — the water — allow him to pass 
 
 And the Oolah shall turn to gold ' 
 
 
Tula Oolah. 55 
 
 "This little elephant is undoubtedly one of that 
 kind, and is probably many hundred years old." 
 
 The gold was broken into small pieces, so that 
 it could be more easily carried away and sold. 
 Celia insisted on staying in the roomv while this 
 was being done, for she could not help feeling 
 that somewhere in it she should find the elephant. 
 But they did not find him, although in breaking 
 the last bit of gold, which had been in the middle 
 at the very bottom of the mass, they came upon 
 two tiny tusks ! And that was all that was left of 
 the Tula Oolah elephant. 
 
 The gold proved to be very pure and when 
 sold was worth a great many thousand dollars, so 
 that Celia and her mother became very rich 
 people. They gave a large lump of it to Mr. 
 Newcombe, for without his help they might never 
 have got the gold at all, and they were very 
 grateful to him. They built a beautiful house on 
 the beach so that Celia could always be near her 
 dear friend, Soft-Eyes, the seal, who had brought 
 all this good fortune to his dear little friend. 
 
THE N. S. BICYCLE. 
 
 GORDON RANDALL had had some money 
 given him to buy a bicycle which he was to 
 choose himself. 
 
 ** Now, Gordon," said his mother, as he started 
 off for the shop, " if there is anything about the 
 bicycle that you do not understand, make them 
 explain it to you. Do not be afraid to ask ques- 
 tions." 
 
 And Gordon promised to be very careful. In 
 about an hour back he came, radiant. 
 
 ** I have bought one. Mamma, and oh, such a 
 beauty you never saw. The man is to oil it and 
 send it up this afternoon, and oh, Mamma, I 
 am so happy." 
 
 When the bicycle came, Mrs. Randall was 
 
 delighted with the machine, which seemed to 
 
 be a very fine one. 
 
 56 
 
The N. S. Bicycle. 57 
 
 "You have evidently made a good choice. But, 
 Gordon," said she, "what are those two letters 
 * N. S.' engraved on the handle ? What do they 
 mean ? " 
 
 "Why," said Gordon, "I don't know. Per- 
 haps they are the initials of the maker, but (hanging 
 his head shamefacedly) I really did not see them 
 before, or I should surely have asked, as you bade 
 me. But, Mamma, I will ride down at once to the 
 shop on my new machine and ask the man." 
 
 "Very well," said his mother, "but be quick, 
 dear, for your supper will be ready before long." 
 
 So off went Gordon, his little heart swelling 
 with pride. He rode well, having ridden a good 
 deal before, but never on such a beautiful machine, 
 so light, yet so strong. "And it is mine, my 
 very own," he shouted in great delight. Soon 
 he came to the shop, and carefully guiding his 
 machine to the sidewalk, tried to go more slowly, 
 when to his horror he found he could not ! The 
 I wheels refused to stop. Round and round they 
 I went, faster than ever, and poor Gordon was carried 
 by the shop in spite of himself ! On and on he went, 
 
58 The N. S. Bicycle. 
 
 and round and round went his poor, unwilling, 
 little legs, while his heart beat " thump, thump," 
 in his terror. By the post-office, by the station he 
 shot, and on and on, far, far away from his home I 
 The town was left behind, and now he found him- 
 Belf on a quiet country road. He tried again and 
 again to make the bicycle go more slowly, but 
 no, it absolutely refused to obey him. Gordon, 
 who had only ridden the ordinary bicycles before, 
 did not know what to do to force this dreadful 
 creature to do his bidding. To his delight, he now 
 saw before him a very high, steep hill. J 
 
 '* Ha, ha, Mr. Bicycle," said he, "your run will 
 come to an end here, I fancy." 
 
 But when they reached the hill, if you will be- 
 lieve me, the bicycle did not even seem to see that 
 there was a hill there, for he ran right up the steep 
 incline, as if it were the most level bicycle track in 
 the world. 
 
 "Oh dear, oh dear," said Gordon, "will nothing 
 stop it, and must I go on forever ? Why, it may 
 run on for years, and till I am an old, old man, and 
 how strange it will look to see a white-haired man 
 
The N. S. Bicycle. 
 
 59 
 
 riding on a small boy's bicycle, and riding so 
 awfully fast, too. I wonder if kind people will 
 take pity on me and throw food to me as I pass ?" 
 
6o The N. S. Bicycle. 
 
 Poor Gordon's supper time was now long past, 
 and he began to feel very hungry, you see. A 
 dreadful thought suddenly came to him — " If I 
 go on at this pace I am sure that in a few days 
 the land will give out, and then I suppose I 
 shall have to ride right into the ocean." At this 
 fearful idea, Gordon's tears began to flow. He 
 was now approaching a large town and every one 
 he met looked at him in surprise, for to see a ten- 
 year-old boy on a bicycle riding so wonderfully 
 fast, and crying as if his heart would break, was a 
 strange sight truly. 
 
 "Where are you going, little boy?" they 
 cried. 
 
 ** I am sure, I don't know," said Gordon, and 
 before they could say any more he was gone. He 
 passed a big railway station and saw by its sign 
 that he was in the town of Boreborough, /brfy 
 miles from his home, and at this his tears again 
 gushed forth. 
 
 "Wot yer cryin' 'bout?" said a very small and 
 very dirty boy, who was playing in the street. 
 "Yer a great big cry-baby, an' yer 'd better turn 
 
The N. S. Bicycle. 6i 
 
 round an' go home ter yer ma," and the small boy 
 threw, I am sorry to say, a handful of mud at 
 poor Gordon. 
 
 But Gordon did not mind that at all, for at 
 the boy's words, an idea had come to him. 
 What was it he had said ? ** Turn round and go 
 home." Now was it not just possible that he 
 might do this ? He knew that he could guide 
 the bicycle, even if he could not stop it, and why 
 could he not turn it entirely round ? It was 
 certainly worth trying, and if you will believe me, 
 the idea of doing so had not once come to him till 
 the dirty little, mud-throwing boy had spoken. 
 He waited till he came to a wide, free space and 
 began to turn. " Hurrah," he shouted as he 
 found the machine obeyed him beautifully and 
 came about with no trouble. He was very much 
 ashamed to think that he had not thought before 
 of this simple way out of his difficulty. 
 
 He was now on his way back, going as fast 
 as ever, but no longer crying. He was now 
 fairly shouting in his delight. Passing the small 
 boy again, he called out, " Thank you, thank you," 
 
62 The N. S. Bicycle. 
 
 and to this day that boy does not know what it 
 was that Gordon thanked him for. Back over the 
 same road he flew, and ah, so willingly now. Past 
 many twinkling electric lights, then out of the big- 
 town, and on to the quiet country road again 
 where the trees looked very tall and black in the 
 darkness. Gordon was not very old, and he was 
 afraid to be out on that lonely road alone, but 
 he kept saying to himself, '*I shall soon be at 
 home." He passed through many small towns, 
 then through the long, dark, wooden bridge that 
 spanned the river Nokowi, which he could hear 
 rushing and tumbling far beneath, hurrying on to 
 the sea. And then at last he saw the lights of his 
 own dear home, twinkling in the distance. 
 
 Down into the middle of the town he went, by 
 the station, post-office, and shop where he had 
 bought this terrible machine, and at last he came 
 to his home. Turning in at the gate, and gather- 
 ing his little remaining strength, he made a tre- 
 mendous effort and jumped from the bicycle. 
 
 And the bicycle, what do you think it did ? It 
 stopped short, and stood perfectly still, leaning 
 
The N. S. Bicycle. 63 
 
 against the piazza, and looking as good and de- 
 mure as any ordinary machine could do. But 
 Gordon did not trust it, and running to the stable, 
 got a strong rope and tied it firmly to the piazza 
 post. Then he went in to his mother, whom he 
 found sobbing bitterly. Running to her and 
 throwing his arms about her, he told her the whole 
 wonderful story, and oh, how glad she was to 
 see him. 
 
 ''And I thought," she said, "that I had lost 
 my dear boy. Men are searching for you in every 
 direction, while you, poor little fellow, were in 
 Boreborough, forty miles away." 
 
 She kissed him again and again and after he 
 had eaten something, for he was faint with hun- 
 ger, he went to bed and slept till eleven o'clock 
 the next day. 
 
 " Now, Gordon," said his mother, ** the first 
 thing to do is to make the shop-man take back 
 the bicycle. I will go with you and help you pull 
 it, for you must not get on it again," and Gordon 
 was very willing to obey. 
 
 So they led the machine back» and it did not 
 
64 The N. S. Bicycle. 
 
 seem at all ashamed, but held its bright nickel- 
 plated head up proudly, as if it were a very remark- 
 able machine, and truly I think it was, don't you? 
 
 When they got to the shop and told their story 
 to the man, he said: "Why I supposed the boy 
 wanted one of the N. S. machines." 
 
 "And what does * N. S.' mean?" said Gordon. 
 
 "Mean?" said the man. '" N. S.' means 
 Never Stop. They never stop, you see, till you 
 jump off." 
 
 "Indeed they don't," said Gordon, "you are 
 quite right, and I think ' Never Stop ' is a very 
 good name for them." 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Randall, " I think that both 
 my son and I would prefer the ordinary bicycle." 
 
 So the man exchanged the remarkable " N. S." 
 bicycle for a common one, which is perfectly willing 
 to stop whenever its little master tells it to. 
 
 And do you know, the manufacturers found that 
 no one would buy the N. S. machines, so they gave 
 up making them some time ago, and now, no mat- 
 ter where you try, you will find it impossible to buy 
 an N. S. bicycle. 
 
THE TIGER ON THE HUDSON. 
 
 HARRY was spending his Christmas vacation 
 at Uncle Ned's. Uncle Ned had a fine 
 place on the Hudson, a place dear to the 
 boy's heart. There was always sure to be snow 
 there long after it had left other places. There 
 were horses, which meant sleigh-rides, unlimited 
 hills, which meant coasting, and lastly dear Uncle 
 Ned and Aunt Susie, who had no children of their 
 own, and who were very, very fond of their nephew. 
 In the house Harry's favorite room was his uncle's 
 " den," which by the way was n't a den at all, but 
 the biggest room in the house. The walls were 
 covered with guns, bows and arrows, odd-looking 
 swords, and pictures of strange places and animals, 
 for Uncle Ned had been a great traveller, and had 
 
 been at the places and seen the animals himself: 
 8 ^ 
 
66 The Tiger on the Hudson. 
 
 and as he had a big stock of hair-bristling stories 
 to tell about his thrilling adventures and escapes, 
 he was a rare companion. There was a wide fire- 
 place in the room, a good fireplace, which knew its 
 duty, and performed it well, taking its smoke 
 decently up the chimney and not spitting it out into 
 the room, as so many spiteful fireplaces do. There 
 was no carpet on the floor, but across one end of 
 the room lay a magnificent rug, the skin of a 
 " Royal Bengal Tiger," which measured ten feet 
 from tip to tip. Uncle Ned had killed the tiger 
 himself, although Harry had never heard the story. 
 
 One time in the summer, when his uncle and he 
 were bathing, Harry had seen on his uncle's arm a 
 long, cruel red scar, extending from shoulder to 
 wrist. "What is that?" said the boy. 
 
 **The Bengal tiger and I know all about that," 
 was the answer, '' and when you are ten years old, 
 I will tell you the story. You are too young 
 now." 
 
 And Harry had not forgotten. He was ten 
 years old, on the twelfth of December, and his first 
 question to his uncle, when he came this time for 
 
The Tiger on the Hudson. 67 
 
 his Christmas holidays was: ''Will you tell me 
 the story of the tiger, Uncle, for I am now ten, 
 you know?" 
 
 I Uncle Ned smiled, and said : " Come into my 
 den at five this afternoon, and I will tell you all 
 about it." 
 
 So after luncheon, and after two hours spent 
 in coasting, Harry went to the den. His uncle 
 had not yet come in, and he found, on looking at 
 the funny little bronze clock on the mantelpiece, 
 that it was only quarter-past four. 
 
 Harry was tired, and threw himself into Uncle 
 Ned's big leather chair to wait. It had already 
 grown quite dark outside, for the December days 
 were short. But the room was not dark, for there 
 was a glorious fire, blazing triumphantly up the 
 chimney, shining upon all the curious interesting 
 things in the room, and showing distinctly each 
 mark, spot, and stripe on the beautiful tiger-skin. 
 
 The tiger's head had been stuffed, and two 
 fearfully life-like, green eyes had been placed in it 
 Harry used to be quite afraid to look into them, 
 they were so awfully real. He was looking at 
 
68 The Tiger on the Hudson. 
 
 them now when, suddenly, he sprang to his feet in 
 unutterable horror, for he saw that the eyes had 
 begun to rnove I Slowly, slowly they looked round 
 the room, and rested at last, upon him ! 
 
 He met their gaze, and having once looked 
 into those cruel, green glaring eyes, he was en- 
 tirely unable to move. For fully a minute did 
 those two stare at each other silently, while the 
 small bronze clock ticked busily on, and the fire 
 snapped and crackled its way merrily up the wide 
 chimney. Then the Tiger opened his mouth, and 
 in a rough, hoarse voice spoke : 
 
 "I heard your uncle say that he would tell you 
 how I, the king of beasts, the Royal Bengal Tiger 
 came to lie here. I will tell you first my side of 
 the story. Sit still and listen " (and, indeed, 
 Harry was quite unable to do anything else). 
 
 " My home was on the banks of the river 
 Ganges. I had a beautiful wife and three beautiful 
 children." (Here the Tiger's voice became husky.) 
 " We had a happy home," he continued, " near an 
 old deserted temple. Plenty of water we had, a 
 pleasant climate and enough to eat. There was a 
 
s 
 
70 The Tiger on the Hudson. 
 
 village not very far away and there were herds of 
 cattle, stray monkeys, and occasional children. 
 Ah, those happy days, long-gone, long-gone." 
 (The Tiger seemed to be full of feeling.) " Each 
 morning we all went down to the river Ganges for 
 a drink, I leading the way, followed by my gentle 
 wife and my three beautiful children. Then back 
 again, and if game was at hand, and I kept the 
 larder well stocked, we ate our breakfast. My wife 
 was busy all the morning, teaching the little ones 
 to hunt, and they did well, the dear little things — 
 they were my children. They killed the smaller 
 creatures, and once, one of them, perhaps the 
 bravest of the three, brought in a small monkey, 
 which he himself had killed, unaided. You can 
 imagine what a proud day that was for his mother 
 and me. Oh, my tender wife, and innocent 
 children, where are you now ?" (Here the Tiger 
 sobbed aloud.) 
 
 "Well," he continued, when able to speak, 
 ''one night I was crouching near the village, 
 watching for prey, when I overheard a conversation 
 between two natives. It seemed that a white 
 
The Tiger on the Hudson. 71 
 
 man had arrived at the village the night before, 
 and that he intended to make an end of me and 
 my family ! Oh, how I roared in my rage, when 
 I heard that. How I lashed my tail from side 
 to side, as I hurried home to tell my wife. 
 
 ** * Shall we not all go farther into the thicker 
 denser forest,' said she, 'farther from the haunts 
 of man ? ' 
 
 "■ But I turned fiercely upon her. ' I will de- 
 fend you,' I roared, 'I will defend you.' 
 
 "Three days after this, I was taking a nap in 
 a clump of bushes, when I heard an odd crackling 
 noise. Keeping perfectly still, I crouched and 
 listened. The boughs directly over my head were 
 now parted, and there stood a man, not two feet 
 away ! Never had I been so near a man before. 
 He was a native, and his eyes seemed to have a 
 strange effect on me, for when I looked into them, 
 I was powerless to move. He grew very pale, and 
 his teeth chattered, but he kept his eyes steadily 
 fixed on me, while he slowly, slowly moved back- 
 wards. When I could no longer see those strange 
 eyes, I sprang, but alas, not upon him ! He had 
 
72 The Tiger on the Hudson. 
 
 just escaped me, and was running for his life. 
 I was after him like a flash, when suddenly, I 
 saw a white man standing directly in my way, 
 and who did not seem in the least afraid. At 
 this, my rage knew no bounds, for men always 
 fled from me in terror. I lashed my tail savagely, 
 growling all the time. I opened my mouth that the 
 white man might see my long pointed teeth, and I 
 put my gloriously sharp claws in and out, keeping 
 my eyes upon him all the time. He was a tall, 
 thin man, with brown fur covering the lower part 
 of his face. Why did he stand so fearlessly there ? 
 How did he dare to brave me ? In his hand he 
 held a common black stick, which he had raised to 
 his shoulder and held pointed at me. Roaring 
 louder in my rage, I crouched lower and lower, 
 and then gathering myself together, was just about 
 to spring upon him, when suddenly, without a 
 moment's warning, the common little black stick 
 in the man's hand, bftrst ! ! Out of the end 
 rushed fire and flame. Bang! Bang I — some- 
 thing hit me — a red cloud came before my eyes — 
 I knew no more. And that 's how I came to be 
 
The Tiger on the Hudson. ^-^ 
 
 here. The next thing I knew, I was lying in this 
 quiet room, with new eyes and ears (oh, why did 
 they take from me my beautiful ears ?) and here 
 I have been ever since. I am not the tiger I was, 
 and yet I should n't wonder if after all, there were 
 enough of me left to attack — say — a small boy I '' 
 
 Harry began to feel exceedingly uncomforta- 
 ble at these words. The tiger's voice, which had 
 been soft, now grew louder. 
 
 " I am hungry — I have had nothing to eat for 
 ten long years. / am hungry,'' he repeated, and 
 this time his voice rose almost to a roar. 
 
 For a moment there was silence in the room 
 and then Harry, who was staring, fascinated, saw 
 that the creature was actually coming toward him ! 
 Slowly he crept, his long white teeth gleaming in 
 the firelight, and his big green eyes snapping 
 angrily. 
 
 *' Yes, I am HUNGRY," he roared, for the 
 third time, and then poor Harry realized what the 
 tiger's horrible intention was-r-to satisfy that hun- 
 ger, by eating him. The poor boy's teeth chat- 
 tered, he trembled violently. In another minute 
 
74 The Tiger on the Hudson. 
 
 the creature would be upon him. How could he 
 defend himself ? 
 
 The poker ! Springing to his feet and seizing 
 the big iron poker, Harry advanced upon the 
 Tiger. 
 
 Meantime, the shovel and tongs, which stood 
 with the poker, followed the law of all fire- 
 irons and fell with a crash on the hearth ! Roused 
 by this noise, Harry became suddenly conscious 
 that he was standing quite alone in the room, 
 fiercely brandishing the poker at — nothing I Rub- 
 bing his eyes he looked about him at the quiet 
 room, at the fire which had now burned low, and 
 lastly, and rather timidly, he looked at the tiger- 
 skin rug lying flatly and innocently upon the floor. 
 Just then the door opened, and he heard his 
 uncle's cheery voice. 
 
 "Well boysie, are you ready for the grewsome 
 tiger-tale?" 
 
 ** Why Uncle," said Harry, "I have just heard 
 it." 
 
 ** Heard it ? " said Uncle Ned, in astonishment. 
 ** From whom ? " 
 
The Tiger on the Hudson. 75 
 
 "From the tiger himself." And then Uncle 
 Ned, looking more carefully at the boy's flushed 
 face, and tousled hair, laughed long and loud. 
 "You were dreaming, little boy," he said, at last. 
 
 *'0h, Uncle, it was too real to be a dream, I 
 will tell you about it," and he told him all. 
 
 When he had finished. Uncle Ned was very 
 much astonished. ''The story is true, just as it 
 really happened," said he. " My native guide came 
 running back to me with a white face, shouting * the 
 tiger, the tiger ! ' when out he sprang. I had just 
 time to put my gun to my shoulder and fire. 
 Fortunately, my aim was true, for he fell at my 
 feet. I did not, however, know about Madam 
 Tiger or the three little Tigerses, and your friend 
 omitted to tell you that before we parted he gave 
 me this," and Uncle Ned showed the cruel scar on 
 his arm. 
 
 " I went up to him as he lay stretched out at 
 full length on the ground, supposing, of course, 
 that he was quite dead, and he — ^well, I found that 
 he was n't. But in the main, Harry, the story is 
 true, just as I would have told it myself, and it is 
 
76 The Tiger on the Hudson. 
 
 certainly very odd that you should have dreamed 
 it. 
 
 The following year Harry visited his aunt and 
 uncle in September. One day when his uncle was 
 in his den, writing, the boy came in with three 
 tiger-lilies. Going to the tiger, he placed them 
 under his paw. 
 
 "And why, dear?" said his uncle. 
 
 ** Well, Uncle, I know, of course, that he was a 
 very bad tiger to scratch you," said Harry, "but 
 oh, it was n't the fault of his three dear little baby 
 tigers — and he loved them dearly — he said so him- 
 self, you know, and so — I brought him these three 
 tiger-lilies, one for each." 
 
LUCIA, THE ORGAN-MAIDEN. 
 
 NEVER had Pietro Pitti turned out such a 
 wonderful hand-organ, and that is saying 
 a great deal. It had been made by a 
 new man, who had come from the cold North 
 country, and who had been with Pitti but a short 
 time. He begged to be allowed to make the 
 organ himself. 
 
 '* I have an idea," he said, ** which, if I can 
 but carry out, will make you famous, master." 
 
 ** I have fame already," was the proud answer. 
 
 **Ah, but there is always one step higher, 
 master." 
 
 ''Make the organ then, as you will. North- 
 erner," said Signor Pitti, and the young man had 
 done so. 
 
 This day it was finished and was to be tried 
 
 •»2 
 
78 Lucia, the Organ-Maiden. 
 
 for the first time. Signer and Signora Pitti and 
 the children, four small Pittises, were present, 
 while the workmen stood in the background ex- 
 pectant, and many pairs of black eyes were fixed 
 eagerly upon the hand-organ which was brought 
 in by the Northerner. The covering cloth was 
 removed. The organ was made of selected rose- 
 wood, which Signor Pitti always used, and was 
 beautifully polished. But it differed from all the 
 other organs, for in front was a glass window, 
 through which you looked into a beautiful little 
 room hung with soft pink satin. 
 
 " A doll's room, a salon,'' cried the youngest 
 Signorina Pitti. At the back of this room at one 
 side was a door. 
 
 '* Well, well," said Signor Pitti, ''but what — " 
 "Patience, master, for a moment," said the 
 Northerner, and began to turn the handle of the 
 organ. It played a march through well and 
 clearly, and in perfect time, but then all Signor 
 Pitti's organs did that. Next it played " La Bella 
 Napoli." Signor and Signora smiled, for they 
 loved their Naples and liked to hear its praises. 
 
PAOLO AND HIS ORGAN. PAGE 8l. 
 
 7^ 
 
8o Lucia, the Organ-Maiden. 
 
 Then the door at the back of the small orphan- 
 room opened slowly, and out came a most ex- 
 quisite doll about ten inches high. She was 
 dressed in pink and had long flowing hair, and it 
 was really hard to decide whether her cheeks were 
 pinker than her smile was broad, or her smile 
 broader than her cheeks were pink — they were 
 both unmistakable. 
 
 Coming forward she bowed very low to her 
 audience, and as they saw nothing of the spring in 
 her back, or the wire that made her do so, they 
 all bowed politely in return, for it really seemed as 
 if she must be alive. Then slowly, gracefully, the 
 little creature danced around her pink drawing- 
 room in perfect time to the music. When that was 
 finished she bowed once more, the door at the back 
 opened and she disappeared. 
 
 The Pitti family were delighted. "Bella, 
 Bella, Wonderful," they cried, and the North- 
 erner's fortune was made from that day. 
 
 The organ was sold to one Paolo Cello for 
 quite a large sum of money, and Lucia, the little 
 dancing-lady, danced every day in beautiful 
 
Lucia, the Organ-Maiden. 8i 
 
 Naples, before hundreds of people. And wherever 
 she appeared, crowds of admirers applauded her. 
 
 Sometimes Paolo and she would go to some of 
 the villas in the neighborhood, where she danced 
 tirelessly, under trees laden with big yellow 
 oranges, and with flowers of all colors and kinds 
 growing about her. 
 
 One day they went to Pompeii and there, out- 
 side its ruined walls, Lucia danced for some 
 foreigners, in full sight of a big mountain out of 
 which smoke was coming forever, forever. Lucia 
 danced and Vesuvius smoked, each attending to 
 its own business. But whenever Lucia danced, 
 whether before strangers or dark-skinned Italians, 
 the result was the same — admiration. And Paolo 
 came to love the little creature almost as if she 
 were alive, and took the best care of her. 
 
 The window of her dancing-room, and the room 
 itself were spotless, the machinery well oiled, and 
 Paolo was always very careful to play her music 
 in good time, neither too fast nor too slow — in 
 dancing so much depends upon the music, you 
 know. 
 
82 Lucia, the Organ-Maiden. 
 
 Ah, those happy days, they were too good to 
 last, and they did n't. One day Paolo was taken 
 ill. 
 
 ** We can't go out to-day, little Lucia," he said. 
 He often talked to her as if she were truly alive, 
 and as she did n't know she was n't, perhaps it 
 was just as well. 
 
 Worse and worse grew Paolo, as he lay upon 
 his narrow bed in his one small room. Gradually 
 the stock of money which he and Lucia had earned, 
 dwindled, disappeared. One by one the bits of 
 furniture had to be sold. Then came a dreadful 
 day when Paolo pulled up the little window and 
 spoke to Lucia. 
 
 " It almost breaks my heart," he said, **but we 
 must part, you and I. I am penniless. A man 
 has offered me a big sum for you. But I have 
 parted with everything else first, Lucia mia," and 
 the poor fellow, pointed round the room, which 
 was indeed quite empty, save for the bed and 
 organ. " But, if I live, I shall work hard and try 
 to buy you back again. Remember that, Lucia." 
 Then Paolo stooped and kissed her, and no one 
 
Lucia, the Organ-Maiden. 83 
 
 but he and she knew of that big hot tear which 
 fell on her cheek. 
 
 Later, a man knocked at the door, gave money 
 to Paolo, and took the organ away. Then followed 
 unhappy years for poor Lucia. Not that her new 
 master, Antonio, was unkind — he was simply a 
 very careless, untidy man. He left the organ 
 standing in cold places, where the wind crept in 
 and chilled her. Once he left the organ for a 
 while in the street on a stormy day, and the rain 
 came in through a crack in the case and dripped 
 on her pretty pink cheeks. The color ran, and 
 poor Lucia was greatly mortified, and looked it, 
 too. Sometimes Antonio played much too fast, 
 and Lucia was, of course, obliged to dance fast, 
 which, as she was a person of much natural dignity, 
 was very repulsive to her. Sometimes the Master 
 forgot to even oil the machine, and once he put in 
 too much oil. So much that it oozed out over the 
 floor, and poor Lucia's pretty pink slippers were 
 ruined, which, as she was an extremely dainty little 
 thing, hurt her feelings dreadfully. 
 
 But worse was to follow. Antonio, who was 
 
84 Lucia, the Organ-Maiden. 
 
 quite old, gave up the business and sold the organ 
 to a man named Pietro Nolli, who took it to 
 America. For ten days poor Lucia was put in a 
 dark, dark place on the big steamer, where she 
 heard the most awful roaring noises, and was 
 tossed up and down, from side to side, till she 
 really longed to die. She thought of Paolo and 
 wondered if he had died, and if not, whether she 
 would ever see him again. It comforted her some- 
 what to remember that he had said he would try 
 and find her and buy her back again. 
 
 At last she reached America, and then fol- 
 lowed a year of wretched life to the poor dancer. 
 Nothing was done for her. The machinery was 
 broken and not mended. The organ was sadly 
 out of tune, but Pietro neither noticed nor cared. 
 The dust collected in the little drawing-room. 
 The window grew cloudy, but for that Lucia was 
 glad, for she was ashamed of the dirty room, and 
 also, alas, of her dancing. She was older, and had 
 rheumatism, for she was not used to the colder 
 climate of America, and so she danced in quite a 
 stiff jerky way, that would have been funny if it 
 
Lucia, the Organ-Maiden. 85 
 
 had not been so sad. However, people still 
 seemed to like to see her dance, and crowded 
 about the organ whenever she began. 
 
 One bitterly cold day, Lucia, her bones aching, 
 was about to make her bow, when she felt some- 
 thing snap in her back, and instead of bowing for- 
 ward, she bowed backward ! It was with the 
 greatest difficulty that she stood upright again, 
 and went on with the dance. But from that time 
 on, she always bowed the same way, backward 
 and not forward. She had no idea how very funny 
 she looked, and when she heard the shout from 
 the people who were watching her, she supposed, 
 of course, it was a shout of delight, such as she 
 had heard many times in her life, and her poor 
 little cold heart warmed at the sound. 
 
 One day, by accident, her window was broken, 
 and of course not mended. So poor Lucia had 
 to dance in her drawing-room with the dust and 
 bitter, biting cold blowing in through the hole. 
 It was a frightful experience for her, with her 
 rheumatism, and dressed in the thinnest of thin 
 tulles with no underclothes to speak of Through 
 
86 Lucia, the Organ-Maiden. 
 
 the cruel hole she could now hear the people talk- 
 ing about her, but instead of the words of praise 
 she had heard all her life, she found that they 
 were laughing at her, making fun of her. At this 
 poor Lucia was almost broken hearted. It seemed 
 to her the very worst blow of all. 
 
 She now no longer tried to dance her best, or 
 even to keep up with the squeaky music, and one 
 day she felt very ill, and began to go slow-er and 
 s-1-o-w-e-r, and was about to stop altogether, and 
 never dance again, when she suddenly saw looking 
 at her, through the window a face that she knew I 
 A dear face with kind tender eyes, eyes that were 
 full of tears. She heard a voice, a long unheard 
 voice, saying, "Lucia, cara mia, Lucia 'tis I, your 
 Paolo, I have found you at last," and then the 
 little dancer heard no more for she fainted and 
 fell on the floor of the room. 
 
 Five dollars did Paolo give to Pietro for the 
 organ, and then the old happy days began once 
 more. The machinery was mended, the organ 
 thoroughly made over by Paolo, who understood 
 well his business. Lucia was beautifully and 
 
Lucia, the Organ-Maiden. 87 
 
 warmly dressed in rich crimson velvet Her dig- 
 nity, grace, and youth came back again, and she 
 danced as before for Paolo, and put her whole 
 heart into it. I saw her only yesterday. I advise 
 you to look carefully at every hand-organ you 
 meet, and perhaps you may see her, too. 
 
THE SHADOW. 
 
 THERE was once a Shadow, who lived with 
 his six-year-old master, George, in a house 
 by the sea. At least they were there dur- 
 ing the long, warm summer, but in winter they 
 lived in the city. George was a dear little fel- 
 low, and the Shadow loved him very much, and 
 everywhere that he went, the Shadow went too. 
 That is, when the weather was pleasant, for the 
 Shadow disliked the rain very much and nothing 
 could induce him to go anywhere with his master 
 on a rainy, or even a cloudy day. He would then 
 hide himself, and when the sun shone again, out 
 he would come and run to his master's side. 
 
 They were a busy pair, these two. They ate 
 their breakfast very early in the morning — that is, 
 George did, but the Shadow, although well and 
 
 88 
 
The Shadow. 
 
 89 
 
 strong, never ate anything. After breakfast, they 
 would both put on their play-suits of gray flannel, 
 roll their sleeves up to their elbows, their trousers 
 above their knees, and would go forth bare-legged 
 to the beach, which was about ten minutes' walk 
 from the house. They always wore large, rough 
 
 L 
 
 '■"*^^.%.-__ 
 
90 The Shadow. 
 
 straw hats to shield them from the sun, and carried 
 pails and shovels, and oh, what fine times they 
 had ! George's big black dog always went with 
 them. This dog had a very sad, solemn face, and 
 George's papa had named him "Woe." He was 
 not really sad, however, but was kind and merry, 
 liking nothing better than to play and romp 
 with his young master. Sometimes he would lie 
 down on the beach, and George and the Shadow 
 would fill their pails with the warm sand and pour 
 it all over him, till nothing but his black head, and 
 his sad, sad face could be seen. He enjoyed it, 
 and never knew how very funny he looked. One 
 day they had a terrible time, or it might have been 
 if Woe had not been there. But he was, and you 
 shall hear about it. 
 
 George and the Shadow were building a sand- 
 house, and needing more wet sand, the boy, quite 
 forgetting that the tide was coming in, ventured 
 too far out. His back was toward the ocean, 
 and suddenly, without a moment's warning, up 
 came a monstrous wave, and striking poor little 
 George, rolled him over and over, and drew him 
 
The Shadow. 91 
 
 r 
 
 out to sea. At least it would have done so, had 
 not Woe, with a loud bark, jumped into the water, 
 and seizing him, drew him back to the shore and 
 safety. The wave, meanwhile, hurried back to the 
 sea. He may have been frightened at Woe's loud 
 bark, which was really quite dreadful, or he may 
 have felt that he had done a cowardly thing in 
 striking one so much smaller than he, and more- 
 over one whose back was turned towards him. 
 The poor Shadow, meanwhile, had been standing 
 on the very edge of the ocean, shivering with 
 terror and crying bitterly, and oh, how delighted 
 he was to see his master again. 
 
 A few days after this, they made another trip 
 to the beach, and again something happened, which 
 I must tell you about from the very beginning. 
 George, you see, had built a castle of sand and 
 round beach stones (of which there were a great 
 many at hand), and at one end was a tower. 
 
 The Shadow, up to this time, had been a very 
 gentle little fellow, willing and eager to do just 
 what his master wanted to do, but he was not very 
 big, you must remember, and this time he very 
 
92 The Shadow. 
 
 much wanted a second tower. *' Two towers are 
 so much prettier than one," he said to George, who 
 paid no attention, but simply went on building his 
 one tower still higher. At the top he placed a 
 small flag which his mamma had given him that 
 very morning. When the castle was finished, he 
 clapped his hands with delight, and of course the 
 Shadow had to clap his hands too, but oh, how un- 
 willingly he did it. It certainly was hard for him, 
 for not only did George refuse to build the castle 
 as he wanted it, but the poor Shadow had to help 
 George carry the stones and build the castle the 
 way he did not want it. Still, he ought not to 
 have got so vexed about it. When his master 
 walked home that afternoon, it was a very cross, 
 sulky little Shadow that followed him. 
 
 George, after supper, went to bed and sup- 
 posed, of course, his shadow had done the same. 
 But he was wide-awake, and had decided to do 
 something very naughty. As soon as all the 
 people in the house were asleep, out crept that 
 little Shadow through the window and across 
 the lighted lawn (for the moon was now shining 
 
The Shadow. 93 
 
 brightly), and soon arrived at the beach. 
 Shadows when they are with their masters 
 have to do just as they do, but once let them 
 get away and they sometimes act very strangely. 
 If you ever meet one without his master, watch 
 him and see if he does not act oddly. This one 
 had never been away alone before in his short life, 
 and he felt very free and happy. He ran first 
 from one end of the beach to the other, then 
 danced and hopped about, and finally lay down 
 on the sand and rolled over and over. He was 
 dressed as he had been in the afternoon, pail, 
 shovel, and all. 
 
 At last, he said to himself, " Now to my busi- 
 ness." And what do you suppose his "business " 
 was ? To put another tower on the castle ! He 
 knew just how to do it, as he had helped George 
 build the other one that afternoon, you know. 
 
 But the poor little fellow had forgotten that al- 
 though Shadows can work very well with their 
 masters, without them they can do nothing, and 
 when you are older, children, you will find that 
 shadow-people are not the only ones who work 
 
94 The Shadow. 
 
 well when the master is present, and not at all 
 when he is absent. Although the Shadow worked 
 hard, he could not carry the sand, he could not 
 drag the stones, and he could not build the tower, 
 for his pail was a shadow-pail, his shovel a shadow- 
 shovel, and he himself the biggest shadow of all. 
 Then he sat down and cried bitterly. A kind- 
 hearted moonbeam, of which there had been mil- 
 lions playing all about, came to him, saying : 
 
 "What is the matter?" 
 
 He told her, and shining kindly on him, she 
 said : 
 
 ** Go home, and I promise that the next time 
 you come to the beach, you shall find two towers 
 on the castle." 
 
 " How can you do that? " he asked, but as the 
 moonbeam had already gone, of course she could 
 not answer this. 
 
 The Shadow, comforted, in spite of himself, by 
 her promise, thought he would go home, but before 
 he had gone half the distance, he was so tired 
 that he lay down for a nap by the roadside. He 
 meant to take only a very short nap, but he slept 
 
The Shadow. 95 
 
 and slept and slept. The sun came up and dried 
 the dew from the flowers and grass, and still he 
 slept ! Suddenly he was awakened by hearing 
 voices. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, for there 
 coming toward him, were George's papa and"' 
 mamma. With them was George, and behind 
 him, if you will believe me, walked a strange, 
 new Shadow ! Our Shadow ran up to him, and 
 said angrily : 
 
 "• Go away, this is my master." 
 
 '• No," said the strange one, smiling saucily, 
 "look again at George." 
 
 The Shadow did, and saw that the boy was 
 dressed in his best serge suit, his brown shoes and 
 stockings, and his round brown hat, and then he 
 remembered that this was Sunday and that George 
 was on his way to church. 
 
 "Now," said the strange Shadow, proudly, 
 *• look at me." 
 
 Our Shadow did, and found that he was dressed 
 exactly like George. Then, knowing that it was 
 the first duty of a good Shadow to dress like his 
 master in every particular, he realized that George 
 
96 The Shadow. 
 
 did not want him, dressed as he was. Had the 
 boy turned and found him following, dressed 
 in his play-suit, large hat, shovel, pail, and 
 all, I am sure he would have been very much 
 frightened, ^ilthough he was not a boy to be 
 " afraid of his own shadow." So the Shadow 
 stood sadly back, and when they were gone, he 
 began to cry. 
 
 "What is the matter ?'* said a tiny gray bird, 
 who was sitting on a twig by his side, and he told 
 her the whole story. 
 
 " Stop crying, and I will help you," said the 
 bird. **Go first and put on your brown clothes, 
 just like George's. I, meanwhile, will fly up to 
 the sky and tell a friend of mine, a dear cloud, to 
 send down some rain. Then, of course, the 
 Shadow, who is now with George at church, will 
 have to run home. When he gets there, the rain 
 will stop, and then will be your chance. Run as 
 fast as your little shadow-legs will carry you to 
 your master, and even if the wrong Shadow runs 
 too, I am sure you can go faster, as he will be tired 
 from his former run." 
 
The Shadow. 97 
 
 " Thank you, thank you, dear bird," said the 
 Shadow. 
 
 He hurried then to change his clothes, and sure 
 enough, very soon, down came the rain as the bird 
 had promised, and in rushed the wrong Shadow, 
 breathless. Then the rain ceased and our Shadow 
 fairly flew to the church. But the wrong one, real- 
 izing what had happened, flew too, and oh, what a 
 mad race they had. But as the bird had foretold, 
 the right one reached the church first, and when 
 the services were over, back walked George, fol- 
 lowed closely by his own Shadow. He was very 
 glad to be near his master again, and began to 
 feel badly for his naughtiness. The next day, off 
 they went to the beach, the Shadow walking very, 
 very slowly and hanging his guilty little head. 
 
 " I wonder if the moonbeam will have really 
 built the other tower, and will George be very 
 angry?" he thought. 
 
 Now when they got to the beach, they went di- 
 rectly to the castle, and what do you think they 
 tbund ? The moonbeam had kept her word. There 
 were, to be sure, two towers, one at one end and 
 
98 
 
 The Shadow. 
 
 one at the other, but one was a "really, truly" 
 tower, while the other — ^was only a '^shadow- 
 tower'' I So George was not at all angry, and the 
 Shadow was happy. But do you know he has 
 never left his master again, and the next pleasant 
 day you meet George, watch and see if his Shadow 
 is not close at his heels. 
 
 *% 
 
WHAT THE SQUIRREL DID FOR 
 RICHARD. 
 
 RICHARD had found a big and tempting 
 chestnut in the woods, and was about to eat 
 it, when he heard a "chit, chit, chit," over- 
 head, and looking up saw, perched on the swaying 
 branch of a tree, a red squirrel, whose bright eyes 
 were fixed wistfully on the 
 chestnut ; so wistfully that 
 Richard knew at once what 
 the little creature wanted. 
 It was late for chestnuts, 
 there were not many to 
 be found, and this one 
 was large and mealy. But 
 Richard was a kind-hearted 
 boy, and so he said: "You shall have the nut, 
 squirrel,'* and placing it on a stone under the 
 
 99 
 
loo What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 
 
 tree, he walked off a few feet. Down scampered 
 the squirrel, seized the nut, and was up again 
 on the branch in a twinkling, where he sat crack- 
 ing and nibbling it, with the greatest enjoyment. 
 Richard stood under the tree watching him. 
 
 "Is n't it good?" he said. *'I am awfully glad 
 I gave it to you." 
 
 "Chit, chit," said the squirrel; and then, to 
 Richard's astonishment, he uttered these words in 
 very good English : "You have been kind to me, 
 little boy. You have not only given away what is 
 yours, but, more than that, something which you 
 yourself wanted very much. To do that, is the 
 greatest kindness one can show to another. Now, 
 as it happens, I am a powerful squirrel, and in re- 
 turn for your kindness, I am going to give you a 
 gift, which some time will be of the greatest use to 
 you. Now, mark my words : Whenever you rub 
 the little finger of your right hand across your 
 chin, you will at once become a squirrel." Then 
 he ceased speaking, and vanished ! 
 
 Richard stood there, staring in astonishment, 
 rubbing his eyes, and wondering if the squirrel had 
 
What the Squirrel Did for Richard. loi 
 
 really spoken to him. " Of course I know," he 
 said, " that I can't turn into a squirrel, even if I 
 rubbed the little finger of my right hand over my 
 chin, all day long." 
 
 But, just to convince himself, he drew his right 
 hand little finger across his chin, and before you 
 could count two, he found he had actually become 
 a dear little red squirrel, and was running quickly 
 up a tree ! (Perhaps to get away from the small 
 boy, who had stood there, only a moment before.) 
 
 •'What fun this is," he thought, "to stay in 
 these beautiful woods all day long — to have to do 
 no lessons, and not to go to bed till I want to. 
 Oh, how happy I am." 
 
 The next two hours he spent in taking flying 
 leaps from tree to tree, startling all the other 
 squirrels and wood-creatures, who scolded him 
 roundly for disturbing their afternoon naps. Then 
 he felt tired, and sat down upon a soft mossy stone 
 to rest. It had begun to grow dark, and the boy- 
 squirrel for the first time thought of his dear 
 mother and his comfortable home. And then — 
 then — he remembered that his mother would not 
 
I02 What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 
 
 know him as he was now, and that his friend, the 
 squirrel, had neglected to tell him how he was to 
 turn himself back into a boy again. 
 
 '• Then I must always be a squirrel," he said, 
 *' and never, never go home to dear Papa and 
 Mamma any more." 
 
 At this dreadful thought his tears began to flow, 
 and, forgetting that he was no longer a boy, he 
 tried to put his little paw into his pocket, to get a 
 handkerchief to wipe those tears. Suddenly he 
 caught sight of his bushy tail. " The very thing 
 for a handkerchief," he thought, and was about to 
 use it, when he noticed on the extreme end of the 
 tail, and almost hidden by the soft fur, a small 
 knob that looked very much like an electric-bell 
 button. On this was printed, in letters so small 
 that, had not his eyes been very small too, I am 
 sure he never could have read it, " Press the but- 
 ton." Curling his tail over his head, he pressed 
 the knob hard against his little sharp brown nose, 
 and immediately he became — Richard — the boy, 
 again. 
 
 Running home as fast as he could, for he felt 
 
What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 103 
 
 a bit dazed by these quick changes, he rushed into 
 the house. His mother was sitting before the fire, 
 sewing, while the big pet cat, '' Tabby," lay curled 
 upon the rug at her feet. Richard was in a state 
 of great excitement, and when Mrs. Burton heard 
 the story of the squirrel, which he told her, she 
 smiled and said : 
 
 "My little boy must not lie down in the woods 
 and take his naps again." 
 
 " Oh, Mamma, you think I was dreaming, but 
 this was no dream. I can really turn myself into 
 a squirrel, whenever I like — I will show you." 
 And Richard rubbed the little finger of his right 
 hand over his chin, and then, how it happened 
 Mrs. Burton could never tell, but the first thing 
 she knew, her boy had vanished, and running 
 across the room she saw a little red squirrel I 
 
 But alas ! the cat had seen it, too, and like a 
 flash was after it, giving it no time to press the 
 knob, and change itself back into a boy. Poor 
 Mrs. Burton screamed in her fright, while round 
 the room, over chairs and tables, flew the two I 
 Then the boy-squirrel ran to his mother's arms for 
 
I04 What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 
 
 protection. She held him high in one hand, beat- 
 ing down the cat with the other, till the squirrel 
 got a chance to press the button, and Mrs. Burton 
 found that she was holding her own dear boy in 
 her arms. Poor woman, she was so weak that 
 she was unable to speak for some time, and in- 
 deed it is not strange that this was so, for to see 
 one's only child pursued and almost eaten up by 
 a pet cat, was an unusual and extremely trying 
 experience for any mother. 
 
 When she had recovered herself, she said to 
 Richard, with tears in her eyes : ** Promise me 
 that you will never turn yourself into a squirrel 
 again, unless, indeed, you can save your life by so 
 doing." Richard promised, and for two years he 
 remained just a plain, common boy, like other 
 boys. 
 
 Then one day, in summer, he went bathing in 
 
 the river with some friends. Forgetting the strong 
 
 current in mid-stream, he ventured out too far 
 
 Jrom the shore, and, to his horror found that he 
 
 si;;: 
 
 was being carried away in spite of himself. His 
 friends shouted to him, but did not venture to go 
 
What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 105 
 
 to his help. Suddenly, floating on the water near, 
 he saw a piece of wood, about a foot long. This 
 he seized, and clung desperately to it. His 
 strength was fast leaving him, and he could no 
 longer swim. But alas ! the board was not big 
 enough to bear his weight, and the poor boy felt 
 himself sinking ! Just then, fortunately, he remem- 
 bered that he could save himself by turning 
 himself into a squirrel, and quickly rubbing his 
 finger over his chin, in a twinkling a very wet 
 little red squirrel, crawled up on the board and 
 leisurely floated down-stream ! 
 
 The boys on the shore, seeing Richard no 
 more, thought he had sunk, and shouting "He is 
 drowned," ran to tell his mother. Half a mile 
 down-stream, the board with the squirrel was 
 washed ashore, and the little creature ran through 
 the woods, till he came to the place on the river- 
 bank where he had left his clothes, when, pressing 
 the knob, ''Richard was himself again." 
 
 Dressing himself, he ran home to his mother, 
 who was crying bitterly, having heard from th^ 
 boys that he was drowned. She could scarcely 
 
io6 What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 
 
 believe her eyes, when she saw him standing there 
 alive before her. He told her what had saved his 
 life, and then, indeed, she felt grateful to the 
 squirrel. 
 
 Just a week from this time, Richard went from 
 his father's house to the village on an errand. 
 Instead of going by the regular road, he made a 
 "short-cut," going through Farmer Newbone's 
 pasture, entirely forgetting the dangerous bull, 
 who was in it. He was half-way across when he 
 heard a loud bellowing, a snorting and puffing, 
 and turning, saw, to his horror, the bull ! The 
 animal's eyes were glaring angrily, and tossing his 
 head in fury, he was coming with tremendous 
 speed toward the little boy, who stood there, 
 trembling with fear ! He knew that the bull 
 would be upon him, before he could possibly 
 reach the wall, and feared his last moment had 
 come, when, fortunately, he happened to remem- 
 ber that he could turn himself into a squirrel, and 
 so escape. Then he sat down on the ground, and 
 calmly waited for the bull to come on ! He held 
 his finger all ready within an inch of his chin, and 
 
What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 107 
 
 smiled at the thought of the bull's astonishment 
 when he should disappear before his eyes. 
 
 And now the animal was very near, was almost 
 upon him. Richard waited till he could feel the 
 hot breath upon his face, when he quickly rubbed 
 his finger on his chin, and — then — a red squirrel 
 ran right up the animal's nose, over his head, 
 
 along his back, down his tail, across the field, and 
 over the high wall, before the astonished bull had 
 finished staring at the place where there had cer- 
 tainly been a boy only a moment before ! 
 
io8 What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 
 
 Years after, when Richard grew to be twelve 
 years old, he went one time with his father to a 
 city fifty miles from his home, to spend a week. 
 They had a room on the fifth floor of a big, noisy 
 hotel. The boy had a fine time, for his father was 
 very kind to him, showing him everything, and 
 taking him about constantly. One night Richard, 
 being tired, went to bed at eight o'clock. His 
 father had gone for the evening, to see a gentle- 
 man on business. The boy had been asleep for 
 about an hour, when suddenly he woke up, feeling 
 choked, and found that the room was full of 
 smoke ! Springing from his bed, he put on his 
 clothes and ran to the door, only to be met by still 
 thicker smoke, while below he could hear a roar- 
 ing noise, and the cries of frightened people I 
 
 Running then to the window, he looked out 
 into the street, five stories below. He knew that 
 if he jumped, it would kill him instantly, and he 
 also realized, poor boy, that if he stayed where he 
 was, he would surely be burned to death, for he 
 could see the angry flames bursting out from the 
 lower windows of the hotel. 
 
What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 109 
 
 A narrow coping, about six inches wide, ran 
 under his window, to the corner of the big build- 
 ing, and from there a water-spout led to the 
 ground ; but even supposing that he could walk on 
 this narrow ledge, he certainly could never, never 
 slide down to the ground on a water-spout. A 
 cat might do it, but certainly not a boy. And 
 thinking of a cat, reminded him of the power 
 which the squirrel had given him so long before. 
 Why could he not become a squirrel, and so 
 escape this dreadful death ? It was now five years, 
 however, since he had been a squirrel, the last 
 time being when he had raced over the bull's back, 
 you know. 
 
 With a beating heart, poor Richard rubbed the 
 little finger of his right hand on his chin, and im- 
 mediately a red squirrel was running quickly along 
 the narrow ledge (which seemed a broad safe way 
 to him) toward the water-spout I Reaching this, 
 he ran easily, swiftly down. 
 
 '' There 's a kitten," said a man in the 
 crowd. 
 
 "No, it's a rat," said another, for no one 
 
I lo What the Squirrel Did for Richard, 
 
 thought of a country squirrel coming out of a city 
 hotel. 
 
 When the little creature was almost down, he 
 met with a painful accident. He caught one of the 
 claws of his right front paw on a rusty nail, and 
 in his haste to get down, it was broken off! 
 When he reached the ground, he managed to 
 change himself into Richard again, without anyone 
 noticing it, in the noise and confusion. Then, 
 looking about him in the crowd, he saw at a little 
 distance, his poor father, who stood there with the 
 tears running down his cheeks, and who was offer- 
 ing a great deal of money to anyone who would 
 go into the burning hotel, and save his boy, but 
 no one would go. Twice he had tried to go him- 
 self, but the people held him back, and would not 
 let him. Richard ran to him, and the father 
 and son, and indeed all the people about, cried, 
 but it was for joy. Then Richard noticed that his 
 right hand was bleeding, and remembered the 
 rusty nail that had torn his paw a moment before, 
 when he was a squirrel. Looking at his hand, he 
 found, to his horror, that the little finger was gone I 
 
What the Squirrel Did for Richard. 1 1 1 
 
 '*0h, dear, oh, dear," he cried, "then I fear I 
 shall never be able to turn myself into a squirrel 
 again." 
 
 And so it proved, for from that time on, al- 
 though he rubbed each finger across his chin, 
 taking one at a time, and giving each a fair trial, 
 it was in vain. A boy he was, and a boy he had 
 to remain. 
 
THE RUNAWAY WATCH. 
 
 LUCY had come to spend a few weeks with 
 her aunt at the seashore. She had ar- 
 rived the night before, and as the train 
 was late, she had to go to bed directly she got to 
 the house. After breakfast the next day, she 
 went to the beach, and was very much excited — 
 for, do you know she had never, never seen the 
 ocean before. Her own home was in a city, far 
 in the west and this was the first time she had 
 ever been away from it. When she came in sight 
 of the water, you cannot imagine how surprised 
 and delighted the little city child was. She gazed 
 and gazed at the ocean, lying so calmly, quietly 
 before her. 
 
 "And this is the great Atlantic," she said, then 
 
 turning, she saw the beach. " Oh, what a beau ti- 
 ns 
 
The Runaway Watch. 113 
 
 lal beach," she exclaimed, and indeed it was, 
 being very long, and with hard, firm sand, which 
 was almost as white as snow. The waves were 
 rolling up very gently, — ah, it was all unlike any- 
 thing that Lucy had ever seen before, and very, 
 very beautiful. She took out her watch and look- 
 ing at it, found that she had two hours before 
 luncheon to remain in this enchanting place. 
 
 And now, v/hile she is holding the watch in 
 her hand I must describe it to you, for this story 
 is really not about Lucy at all, but about her 
 watch. In the first place, one glance at his fine 
 open face, would show anyone what a thoroughly 
 good watch he was. He was always "up to 
 time," and was therefore very successful as a 
 business watch. He employed several hands, but 
 as he always kept them steadily at work, he never 
 had a strike. He was a repeater, but not a gossip, 
 and, in fact, required considerable pressing before 
 he would consent to speak at all. 
 
 When Lucy took her watch out, and it heard 
 the roar of the ocean, it was so astonished that it 
 actually stopped short. Like Lucy, this was its 
 
1 1 4 The Runaway Watch. 
 
 first visit to the seashore. The hands knocked 
 off work, and rushing to the small glass window, 
 looked forth at the astounding scene. Then back 
 they scurried and said to the master of the works : 
 
 ** Our mistress is having a fine time in this 
 sand. We, too, demand a holiday. We have 
 kept steadily at work all these years, and please, 
 please, let us go." 
 
 The master himself was very much excited at 
 what he had seen from the watch window, and to 
 tell the truth, was just as eager as they to investigate 
 for himself, so he gave his consent, and out rattled 
 the hands, the small cog-wheels, big wheels, main- 
 spring, and everything that is in a watch, till the 
 case was quite, quite empty. 
 
 Then being careful to keep out of Lucy's sight, 
 these strange little things, went rolling, rattling, 
 clattering down the beach. The cog-wheels got 
 clogged with sand once in a while, and one of 
 the hands had to go and put him right again. 
 The main-spring was broken, in one of his 
 mad rushes, but that did not give anyone the 
 slightest uneasiness, for he was in the habit of 
 
The Runaway Watch. 1 15 
 
 breaking often, anyway, and always without the 
 slightest provocation. They threw sand at each 
 
 other, shouted, laughed, and behaved just as 
 children do. At last one of the wheels caught 
 sight of Lucy in the act of rising to go back. 
 •' Hurry, hurry," he screamed, "or she will go 
 
ii6 The Runaway Watch. 
 
 without us ! " and ther> how the works flew ! They 
 had never, when in the case, been known to hurry 
 in the least, but now they fairly jostled each other 
 in their eagerness. The hands kept themselves 
 well in hand, the main-spring, broken as he was, 
 did spring, and the cog-wheels cogged, and they 
 finally did get there, just in time to fly breathless 
 into the case, but not in time to brush ofl" the sand. 
 Lucy fortunately did not take out her watch. If 
 she had happened to do so, I am sure she would 
 have been much astonished at its condition. 
 
 The works, meanwhile, had somewhat recov- 
 ered themselves. The wheels took their places, 
 the hands theirs, and the head master gave the 
 order, standing before them : 
 
 "■ Tick- tick, tick- tick, go T' And they all bent 
 to their work, only to find that they were unable to 
 get on at all. " Scratch, squeak-i-ty, scratch," was 
 the only sound they could make. Then the hands 
 quarrelled, each accusing the other of not doing his 
 work, and so stopping all the machinery. Then 
 the wheels took it up, one saying to the other : 
 
 "It is your fault." 
 
The Runaway Watch. 1 1 7 
 
 *' It 's not," was the indignant answer, " it 's 
 yoursy 
 
 ** Hush, hush," said the case, ** I will settle this 
 matter for you," and as he naturally knew more 
 about the case than anyone could, they listened 
 respectfully. 
 
 " You don't get on," said he, ''simply because 
 you are clogged with sand." 
 
 " He is right," said the master, and we can do 
 no more till we go to the watchmaker's." 
 
 That night, when Lucy tried to wind her watch, 
 it would n't wind. She listened, and there was no 
 friendly " tick- tick " to be heard. So the next day 
 she took it to the maker, who was very much sur- 
 prised when he examined the works. 
 
 " Well, well, little girl," said he, "what have you 
 been doing to this watch ? It looks as if you had 
 rolled it in sand, thrown sand at it, and poured 
 sand into it." 
 
 Lucy was very much ashamed, but as she really 
 had no idea how it came about, she could sav 
 nothing. 
 
 ** It must have happened yesterday," said her 
 
1 1 8 The Runaway Watch. 
 
 aunt, " and the next time you go to the beach the 
 watch had better remain at home." 
 
 And so the works were punished for their 
 naughtiness, for they never got even a gHmpse 
 of the beautiful ocean again, and had to rem^n 
 quietly in their case ever after, saying ** Tick-tick, 
 tick-tick." And sometimes if you listen very 
 closely, you may hear them say, softly and re- 
 gretfully, " Atlan-//^, At\2in-/iCy Atlan-//(^." 
 
A GRASSHOPPER'S TRIP TO THE 
 
 CITY. 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was a green Grass- 
 hopper, who lived with his papa and 
 mamma, his brother and sisters, under a 
 daisy in a green field. Near them was a big red 
 house, and in the house lived a boy whose name 
 was Southworth. This boy owned a beautiful cat 
 called Propriety, which was a very long name, but 
 then she was a very long cat. She was gray, and 
 had the greenest eyes you ever saw, but she had 
 one serious fault — she was very fond of eating 
 grasshoppers. She would crouch in the long 
 grass, and when one appeared, out would come 
 her paw, and that grasshopper would never, never 
 hop any more. She knew no better, but that did 
 
 not make it any happier for the grasshopper. 
 
 119 
 
1 20 A Grasshopper's Trip to the City. 
 
 Southworth thought that Propriety's eyes were 
 green because she ate so many grasshoppers. I 
 can scarcely believe it was so, however, because 
 some cats drink only milk, and I never saw any 
 cat with white eyes, did you ? 
 
 Now the Grasshopper who lived under the 
 daisy, asked his mother one day if he might take 
 a "hop." He didn't say walk as you do, as he 
 did n't know how to walk. His mother said yes, 
 but told him to be very careful to keep away 
 from Propriety. He said he would, and off he 
 hopped. 
 
 He had a lovely time, looking at all the pretty 
 flowers in the field. He saw a great, ripe rasp- 
 berry hanging temptingly just where he could 
 reach it. Now, a few days before, he had seen 
 Southworth eating a raspberry, and had heard him 
 say, '' How delicious ! " so he thought he too 
 would taste this berry. But he did not like it at 
 all, so popped it out as quickly as he could, and 
 looked sadly down at his pretty green coat that 
 was all stained with the red juice. He was a 
 neat grasshopper, and he wiped his little mouth 
 
A Grasshopper s Trip to the City. 1 2 1 
 
 and coat and legs as well as he could with a clean 
 leaf that grew near. 
 
 He had hopped quite a distance from his home 
 by this time, and feeling tired, looked about for a 
 nap-place. He soon found it — a flat stone on 
 which the sun had been shining all the morning, 
 making it warm and comfortable. He lay down 
 in the very middle of it, and was soon fast asleep. 
 
 Now under this stone there was a hole, and in 
 it lived a black snake. He, too, was fond of 
 sleeping and had his own favorite nap-place — on 
 the very same warm flat stone on which the Grass- 
 hopper was lying. 
 
 The Snake came from his hole, looked about, 
 and said: "I think I will take a nap." So he 
 crawled up on the stone (not noticing the Grass- 
 hopper) and curled himself round and round and 
 round and went to sleep. Not a very comfortable 
 position for a nap, but then he was only a snake, 
 and, I daresay, had no kind mother to tell him to 
 "lie straight." 
 
 Pretty soon the Grasshopper woke up, and you 
 never saw such a surprised Grasshopper as this 
 
122 A Grasshopper's Trip to the City. 
 
 one. At first he thought there was a black moun- 
 tain before him. Then he found that the ''black 
 mountain " went entirely round him. 
 
 "I must jump," said he, and he did. But he 
 was sleepy, and he was frightened, and where do 
 you think he jumped ? Directly on the Snake's 
 head I 
 
 This woke up the Snake, who lifted his head 
 -and said, "hssssssss." But, of course, he could 
 
 not see the Grasshopper, 
 nor could he touch him. 
 The Grasshopper did n't 
 know what "hssssssss" 
 meant, but it sounded 
 very dreadful, and being 
 now thoroughly awake, he made a tremendous 
 jump, high in the air, and came down — on some- 
 thing warm, soft, gray ! At first he thought 't was 
 a new kind of grass, and then his heart stood still, 
 for he found that he was on the head and right 
 between the ears of his greatest enemy — ^Propriety, 
 who was crouching in the grass, watching for grass- 
 hoppers I He gave one agonized jump for his life I 
 
A Grasshopper's Trip to the City. 123 
 
 'T was a high jump, 't was a long jump, and his 
 next landing place was not land at all, but water, 
 for the poor little fellow found himself in a pond. 
 It seemed like the ocean to him, and he called 
 loudly for '' help, help ! " 
 
 Just then he saw, floating on the water, some- 
 thing green. He made a great effort and suc- 
 ceeding in reaching it, scrambled up on a large 
 leaf. It was a lily-pad, and beside it grew a most 
 beautiful pink water-lily. 
 
 "Poor little fellow," said the Leaf, 'Test on 
 
1 24 A Grasshopper's Trip to the City. 
 
 me. I will rock you very gently and you will 
 soon be better." 
 
 And the Lily bent her beautiful head and said : 
 " Yes, rest, come nearer me, for I carry a perfume 
 that must surely make you better." 
 
 The Grasshopper, who was very polite, thanked 
 them both, and sure enough was soon well again. 
 " You are beautiful," he said to the Lily, who 
 blushed, growing pinker than ever. *' I am sorry," 
 continued the Grasshopper, " that you cannot hop 
 about. I am sure it would give every one in our 
 field the greatest pleasure to see you. Oh, if you 
 could only hop about and shed your delicious per- 
 fume." The Water-Lily smiled (I suppose you 
 have never seen a water-lily smile, and did n't 
 know they could do so, but this was a very re- 
 markable lily). 
 
 '• Little Grasshopper," said she, " I should feel 
 sad indeed if I thought I should remain here for- 
 ever, and do no good in the world ; but my brothers 
 and sisters have always been taken to the hot, 
 dusty city, and given to poor people, many of 
 whom have never seen the beautiful country, and 
 
A Grasshopper's Trip to the City. 125 
 
 the green growing things. They have been happy 
 in seeing the lilies, and the lilies themselves have 
 been happy in the knowledge that they were giving 
 pleasure, and so doing good." 
 
 She had scarcely finished speaking, when 
 voices were heard, and two boys appeared, one 
 holding a large bunch of beautiful water-lilies. 
 
 " Oh," said he, pointing to our lily, '* here is a 
 fine pink one. I must pick that." 
 
 Meanwhile, the Grasshopper had been thinking 
 over what the Lily had said, and he, too, longed 
 to do good. He knew he was a fine jumper, for 
 his father had often told him so, and he also knew 
 that he was a pretty little fellow, being very green 
 and having long slender legs. He thought : 
 '* Now perhaps those poor city people would like 
 to see a grasshopper fresh from the country." In 
 a twinkling his mind was made up. He, too, 
 would go to the city ; so he jumped right into 
 the very heart of the Lily. She was surprised, but 
 
 pleased. 
 
 The boy, meanwhile, waded into the shallow 
 water, picked the Lily, and walked with it a long 
 
126 A Grasshoppers Trip to the City. 
 
 way down a wooded road till he came to a railway 
 station. Soon a train came "puff, puff, puffing" 
 along. The Grasshopper was very much fright- 
 ened, and clung closely to the Lily. She herself 
 was trembling with fear, but said kindly, ** Do not 
 be afraid, I will protect you, dear." The train 
 stopped, and the boy with the flowers clasped 
 tightly in his hand, stepped on board and walked 
 through the car, calling : 
 
 " Lilies, lilies for sale, ten cents a bunch ! " 
 A lady bought them, and on they went toward 
 the dusty city. Before very long the train, the 
 lady, the lilies, and the Grasshopper arrived. Then 
 they took a horse-car, and on they went again, till 
 they came to a big red building, which they en- 
 tered. Over its door was the name, " Children's 
 Hospital," but the Lily and the Grasshopper did 
 not know that, for they had never been taught to 
 read. Another lady, dressed in black and wearing 
 a tall white cap, now appeared, and taking the 
 flowers placed them in a green vase filled with 
 water. And oh, how glad they were to taste water 
 again, for they were very thirsty. 
 
A Grasshoppers Trip to the City. 127 
 
 *' I brought these," said the first lady, " thinking 
 that perhaps the poor children at the hospital, who 
 are ill and suffering, might enjoy them." 
 
 " Indeed they will," said the other lady. 
 
 Then the lilies were taken into a large room, 
 where there were many small white beds, side by 
 side, and on each bed lay a little child. They were 
 good children, and although they were all ill, they 
 knew they were there to be made better by the kind 
 doctors and nurses, so they were very patient and 
 uncomplaining. 
 
 When the lilies were brought in, many heads 
 were raised to look at them, while many voices 
 said, "How beautiful," and one boy asked, "What 
 are those pretty things? Flowers ? " Poor fellow 
 he had never seen any water-lilies before. The 
 nurse let each child smell them, and the pink Lily 
 whispered to the Grasshopper, " Now I am happy, 
 for I am doing good." The flowers were placed 
 on a small table between two beds. 
 
 " Lily dear," said the Grasshopper, " don't you 
 think this is a good time for me to appear ? I am 
 sure these children will be glad to see me. I will 
 
128 A Grasshoppers Trip to the City. 
 
 hop from bed to bed, so that each child may have 
 a good look at me. Then I, too, shall be doing 
 good." 
 
 '' Well," said the Lily, "go." 
 
 So out hopped the little fellow, first on the 
 bed nearest. But the girl who lay there, did n't 
 see him, so he jumped directly on her hand. But 
 the child, who had never seen a grasshopper 
 before, was so frightened that she screamed 
 loudly. 
 
 '* 'T was a bug, a horrid green bug," she 
 said to the nurse, who hurried to her bedside. 
 The Grasshopper, much frightened, jumped to the 
 next bed, and then to the next, but alas, alas, 
 only to be met with shrieks of fear. The nurses 
 ran from bed to bed trying to catch him, scream- 
 ing too, and I am sure he would have screamed 
 louder than any of them only he did n't know 
 how to do it. At last he managed to hop back 
 unseen to his friend, the Lily, and curled down 
 in his old place, crying bitterly. She comforted 
 him, folding her petals closely about him, and he 
 lay there hidden and at rest. There he remained 
 
A Grasshopper's Trip to the City. 129 
 
 for several days, till at last the Lily told him she 
 was dying. 
 
 "We must all die, you know, and I have done 
 my work, so am ready to go." 
 
 The next morning, when the Grasshopper said, 
 ** Good morning, dear Lily," she did not answer. 
 Her beautiful head was drooping. She was dead. 
 
 Soon the nurse came, and taking the flowers, 
 away, threw them into an ash-barrel. The Grass- 
 hopper hopped out, and kissing his Lily for the 
 last time, sat near her, on the top of the rubbish. 
 He felt very badly, for his only friend had gone 
 from him. A man soon appeared, who emptied 
 the contents of the barrel into a big wagon, but 
 the Grasshopper jumped just in time, and landed 
 on the very top of the load — a little speck 
 of bright green, in the midst of the ashes and 
 rubbish. The cart rattled noisily over the city 
 streets, and soon came in sight of the sea. Its 
 contents were emptied into a big boat, which 
 ivas waiting at the wharf Again the Grasshopper 
 jumped, and once more found himself on the 
 irery top of everything. He looked about and 
 
1 30 A Grasshopper's Trip to the City. 
 
 saw rubbish, rubbish, rubbish, everywhere. " Tchu, 
 tchu, tchu," and on went the steamboat down the 
 harbor. 
 
 An old tin Can that was lying near, said, 
 "Good morning. Baaaa." 
 
 ''Good morning," answered the Grasshopper, 
 ''but why 'baaaa'?" 
 
 "Because," said the Can, proudly, "I am a 
 Mutton-can, so of course I say * baaaa.' " 
 
 " Oh, of course," assented the Grasshopper, 
 adding politely, " I am sure it sounded very pretty, , 
 only I did n't know quite what it meant. Sir." ' 
 
 " Quite excusable," said the Can. 
 
 " Where are we going ? " 
 
 " To be emptied into the sea," answered the 
 Can. Then noticing the terrified look on the 
 Grasshopper's face, he added : " You must not 
 give yourself the slightest uneasiness, however, 
 for I can float." 
 
 After this abominably selfish speech, the Can 
 settled himself back very comfortably, and smiled. 
 
 " But /can't float," said the poor Grasshopper, 
 " and what will become of me ? " 
 
A Grasshopper's Trip to the City. 1 3 1 
 
 "Get off," was the laconic answer. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "We stop at another wharf farther down the 
 harbor, and there will be your chance. Baaaa ! " 
 
 "Thank you, kind Can. I will," said the 
 Grasshopper, and when they reached the next 
 wharf, off he jumped. 
 
 He hopped and hopped till he came to a stone 
 wall, and over this he skipped, finding himself in a 
 beautiful field, in which grew a wilderness of 
 daisies. 
 
 " How do you do?" said they. 
 
 "And how are you?" answered he. "What 
 is the name of this place ? " 
 
 "Quincy." 
 
 "What!" cried the Grasshopper, "then this 
 is where I live." Just then he saw, not far away, 
 a large red house, which he at once recognized as 
 the home of Southworth and Propriety. 
 
 I am sure no grasshopper ever hopped his little 
 way to his home more quickly than this one. Soon 
 he came to his own field, and there under the 
 home-daisy sat his mamma crying bitterly for her 
 
132 A Grasshoppers Trip to the City. 
 
 son. As he came near he heard her say : " Oh, I 
 shall never, never see him again." Then up he 
 went and gave her one big kiss on her cheek. 
 When she saw who it was, she cried again, but 
 this time it was from joy, and the Grasshopper 
 cried with her. Soon his papa, and all his brothers 
 and sisters came up, and he told them about his 
 travels. When he had finished, he said to his 
 mother : "I shall never go away from you again, 
 but always live here in this field." And they say 
 that he lived to a "green old age," but then, to 
 be ^re, he was very green, to begin with. 
 
THE LIGHT-HOUSE LAMP. 
 
 I AM now going to tell you about a lamp. Not 
 the kind that you are used to, but one much 
 bigger. She lived in the very top of a light- 
 house, which stood upon a small island far out at 
 sea. The island was good and gentle herself, but 
 all about her were dangerous, cruel rocks. Some 
 of them lifted their dark, sullen heads far above 
 the water, and in the daytime could be plainly 
 seen, when of course, the sailors kept away from 
 them, but at night, the boats might have sailed 
 directly upon them, had it not been for our good 
 Lamp. In the light-house lived a man and his 
 wife. The man loved his Lamp, and it was well 
 worthy his affection, for in spite of two very large 
 wicks, it was itself anything but wicked, and had 
 really no vice, although once in a great while, it 
 
 .133 
 
134 The Light-House Lamp. 
 
 did smoke. The man gave much time to it, keep- 
 ing it always bright and shining, and in return for 
 
 this kind care, the Lamp burned with a clear, 
 strong blaze that could be seen for miles, shining 
 
The Light- House Lamp. 135 
 
 through the light-house windows, which sur- 
 rounded it on all sides. 
 
 One night after the Lamp had been lighted, a 
 dreadful storm arose. The wind roared. The 
 waves dashed higher and higher, but the Lamp 
 burned on. The light-house keeper came up to 
 see that all was right, and spoke to it as he often 
 did. 
 
 " Burn brightly, my good Lamp, and you and I 
 between us may save many a life this night." 
 
 " I will, I will, master," said the Lamp. 
 
 Still louder roared the dreadful wind, and 
 higher and higher dashed the waves. One lifted 
 his head so high that he looked through the light- 
 house window, directly into the Lamp's face, but 
 she did not flinch. 
 
 "Go out," said the waves. 
 
 "Yes, go out," roared the wind. "There is a 
 big steamer coming, and heading directly for these 
 rocks. I will blow her on them, and my friends, 
 the waves, will dash her over and over against 
 them, and destroy her." 
 
 " Cruel, cruel," cried the Lamp, " but I will pre- 
 
136 The Light- House Lamp. 
 
 vent your doing this wicked thing. I will save 
 these^people, in spite of you," and the brave 
 Lamp burned brighter than ever. And the poor, 
 exhausted sailors in the storm-tossed boat saw at 
 last the light. 
 
 *'0h," said they, "there must be rocks near, 
 for see, that is a light-house," and they turned the 
 boat quickly from the danger, and went safely on 
 their way, blessing the little Lamp who had done 
 so much for them. Then the wind and the waves 
 were very, very angry. 
 
 " We will put out this saucy Lamp, who dares 
 to put her puny strength against our might." 
 
 So they made still greater efforts, and the dash- 
 ing of the waves and the roaring of the wind were 
 horrible to hear. ** Such a storm as this was surely 
 never known," said the keeper to his wife, " but do 
 not fear, the light-house is firm." And above them 
 the Lamp burned calmly on, happy in the knowl- 
 edge that she had done right. Then the wind 
 and the waves, tired out at last, rested for a mo- 
 ment, and in the silence the Lamp spoke to them, 
 telling them how wickedly they had acted. 
 
The Light-House Lamp. 137 
 
 ** Don't you know why you, with all your 
 power, were unable to do anything against me?" 
 
 "No," said they. 
 
 " Because," said she, *' on my side is right, and 
 on yours wrong, and wrong cannot stand against 
 right. How much better it would be if you would 
 use your great power to help me in doing good." 
 
 And at last, do you know, the wind and the 
 waves, listening to these words, began to feel very 
 badly for their wickedness. The waves shed tears 
 (at least, I suppose they were tears, as they were 
 very salt) and all through the night, the wind 
 sighed and moaned piteously round the light- 
 house, while the waves sobbed and kissed the 
 island below, in their sorrow. In the morning 
 they said : 
 
 " We will help you, dear little Lamp, and we 
 will try hard to be good, if you will show us how." 
 
 This the Lamp gladly promised to do. And 
 the wind and the waves have kept their word, for 
 if a ship comes near those rocks in a storm, the 
 wind simply blows it by the dangerous place, and 
 I am happy to say there has never, never been a 
 wreck there. 
 
MONKEY TRICKS IN THE JUNGLE. 
 
 THIS is the story of a little gray Elephant 
 He was not a circus Elephant, but lived 
 at his home, which was far, far away in 
 Africa. If you or I had been there, we should 
 \iave found many strange, interesting things to 
 i^ee, but the Elephant cared not for them. He 
 only knew that this was home, and the place where 
 his big gray mamma and he lived happily to- 
 gether. His mother was very kind and allowed 
 him to go wherever he liked, and his ** likes " took 
 him sometimes far from his home, for he was a 
 great walker. His trunk, he always kept with him, 
 in readiness for his journeys. 
 
 One day, he bade his mother good-bye, and 
 started out on a long, long tramp. He passed 
 many gorgeous flowers that you or I should 
 
Monkey Tricks in the Jungle. 139 
 
 have picked, had we been there. The air was 
 alive with the cries of strange creatures, and 
 beautiful birds were constantly flying by him, their 
 brilliant green, crimson, and orange plumage al- 
 most too dazzling to look at. But the Elephant 
 paid not the slightest attention to them. We 
 never notice sparrows, and to him these gorgeous 
 birds were simply sparrows, and he had seen them 
 all his life. 
 
 On and on he went. Once he heard a low, 
 threatening growl, a rustling in the bushes, and 
 he turned quickly back, choosing another path. 
 He was much frightened, for well he knew that 
 that low sound meant that a lion was near. His 
 face grew fairly gray with fright — at least it would 
 have done so, had it not already been so very 
 gray. But he heard no more from the lion. 
 Soon he began to feel tired and hungry. 
 
 "I will lunch," said he, and choosing a cool, 
 comfortable place under the shade of a big palm 
 tree, he began. He had chicken-sandwiches, pic- 
 kles, French-fried potatoes, custard pie, caramels, 
 — no, I fear I have made a mistake. That was not 
 
140 Monkey Tricks in the Jungle. 
 
 exactly the luncheon that this little African Ele- * 
 phant had, after all. He had — well, to tell the 
 truth, I am not quite sure what he did have, but 
 I know that it was good. He finished with a 
 long draught of the delicious jungle-ade (please 
 don't ask me how to make this, as it can only 
 be made correctly in Africa). 
 
 Just as he was finishing, he heard a " chat, 
 chat, chattering," and looking up saw a mischiev- 
 ous little monkey sitting overhead, and swinging 
 himself lazily back and forth on a branch. He 
 had bent a very thirsty eye upon what remained 
 of the jungle-ade, and the Elephant, seeing this, 
 said cordially : 
 
 ** Have some ? " 
 
 He was a generous soul, and then also he 
 had really had as much jungle-ade as it was 
 possible for one young elephant to drink. The 
 Monkey seized the cup, and there was soon no 
 jungle-ade. 
 
 *' Elephant, that was delicious, and I am sure I 
 thank you very much," said he, ''and now, can I 
 not in return do something for you ? " 
 
Monkey Tricks in the Jungle. 141 
 
 "Yes, you can. A gnat has just bitten me," 
 said the Elephant, sadly. 
 
 "Really?" said the Monkey. "Well, you 
 are not the first one who has been bitten by a 
 gnat." 
 
 " But he bit me on my back," said the Ele- 
 phant, "where it is impossible for me to scratch. 
 I have tried and tried, but alas, it is just out of 
 reach of my trunk. Now, Monkey, if you will 
 scratch it for me, I shall be greatly obliged." And 
 the Monkey did. But alas, the naughty little fel- 
 low did it too well, for he scratched and scratched 
 and scratched and scratched. 
 
 "Stop, stop, stop," yelled the Elephant. 
 
 ** Dh no," said the Monkey, " I am sharpening 
 my nails beautifully and I dont want to stop." 
 
 "I will punish you," said the Elephant. 
 
 But the Monkey only laughed at this threat. 
 " You told me yourself that you could not reach 
 this spot," and on he scratched, for I am sorry to 
 say that he was far from being a good monkey. 
 
 " That may be so, but I know what I can do," 
 said the Elephant. " I can take you home to my 
 
142 Monkey Tricks in the Jungle. 
 
 mamma who can and will reach you, for you shall 
 be punished for your naughtiness," and without 
 more ado, he started. 
 
 I wish, children, we could have been there to 
 see that Elephant run — for he fairly flew. He 
 kept to no path, but dashed on, crushing the 
 flowers, breaking the branches of the trees, in his 
 headlong flight. "Scurry, scurry," went the ani- 
 mals out of his path, and all the birds and insects 
 fairly bumped against each other in their eagerness 
 to get away from this mad, rushing creature — they 
 scarcely knew what he was, so fast he flew. And 
 the Monkey clung closely to him, his teeth chat- 
 tering with fear. 
 
 '* If I fall, I may be killed, and if I manage to 
 stick on, I know I shall be, when we get to his 
 home. Oh, what shall I do, what shall I do ?" he 
 wailed. It was truly not a pleasant outlook for 
 any monkey, now was it ? 
 
 But deliverance was at hand, for there right 
 before him was a low hanging branch. '* Can I 
 but reach that, I am safe," he thought. They are 
 near it, are at it, — one spring gives the monkey, 
 
144 Monkey Tricks in the Jungle. 
 
 and, hurrah ! reaches it, and grasping it firmly 
 swings himself up to safety. Climbing to the top- 
 most branch, he yells derisively to the fast disap- 
 pearing Elephant : 
 
 " Stupid little Elephant, 
 Big-eared Elephant, 
 Waddling Elephant, 
 Wrinkles on yer skin, 
 Silly little Elephant. 
 Bob-tailed Elephant, 
 You can't catch a Monkey, 
 You ' no count ' thing" — 
 
 which was, on the Monkey's part, most reprehen- 
 sible, and which I am happy to say was unheard 
 by the Elephant, who, meanwhile, quite uncon- 
 scious of what had happened, flew on. 
 
 "Wait," he said, "we are almost there, and 
 your punishment is coming, bad Monkey." 
 
 Soon the home was reached, and there stood 
 his mother. "Mamma, Mamma," he shouted, 
 " take him off, quickly, and punish him, for he has 
 been very naughty." 
 
 "What do you mean, child?" said she. 
 *' Punish whom ? " 
 
Monkey Tricks in the Jungle. 145 
 
 "Why, the Monkey who is sitting on my 
 back." 
 
 "There is no monkey on your back." 
 
 "What, no monkey?" screamed the Elephant. 
 
 His mother, meanwhile, came nearer, and 
 looking him closely in the face, said sternly : " My 
 son, did you have jungle-ade with your lunch- 
 eon ? " 
 
 "Yes," he faltered (for he knew his mother 
 had forbidden him to touch it). 
 
 "Then," said she, "I am not surprised that 
 you talk of monkeys. Go to bed at once, and 
 without your supper." 
 
 So it was the poor little Elephant who had the 
 punishment. And to this day, he cannot imagine 
 what could have become of that Monkey. 
 
THE UPSIDEDOWNIANS. 
 
 IT was a lovely summer afternoon when Molly 
 and Sam went for a sail with their Uncle Jack. 
 They had taken a basket with plenty of sup- 
 per, for they were going for such a long sail that 
 they could not get home before nine o'clock. It 
 would be a bright moonlight night, however, and 
 the boat was a safe one. Off they went, and 
 waving their hands to Mamma, as long as they 
 could see her, they sailed away and away. 
 
 "Now, children," said their uncle, "let us go 
 straight out to the open ocean. We will sail as 
 fast as we can, till five o'clock, and then we will 
 turn about and come home." 
 
 With the children's help, and they were a great 
 help, he spread all sail, and away flew the Dragon- 
 fly over the water. At first they saw a great 
 
 146 
 
The Upsidedownians. 147 
 
 many boats like their own, and even smaller, then 
 fewer and fewer, until, at last, only one or two 
 stately ships were to be seen. Then they met a 
 big ocean steamer ploughing the water, throwing 
 the white waves to right and left. When the peo- 
 ple on board saw the little sail-boat bobbing up 
 and down on the water, they waved their handker- 
 chiefs at Uncle Jack and the two children, who 
 took off their hats in return. 
 
 When it was five o'clock, and time to turn 
 about for home, the wind suddenly died out, and 
 the unfilled sail flapped uselessly at the mast. It 
 began to grow dark, too, while just over their 
 heads they saw a big black cloud, which looked 
 most threatening. Fearing that a thunder storm 
 was coming, and realizing their danger, Uncle Jack 
 sprang to take in sail. But he was already too 
 late, for the storm was upon them! The cloud 
 above suddenly burst, a torrent of rain de- 
 scended, and the wind blew furiously. Bidding 
 the two children lie down in the bottom of the 
 boat, and keep perfectly quiet, Uncle Jack worked 
 frantically with the big sail, and at last succeeded 
 
148 The Upsidedownians. 
 
 in taking it in. As soon as the sail was down, the 
 boat, which had been rolling frightfully, righted 
 itself somewhat, and poor Uncle Jack and the two 
 trembling children knew that their present danger 
 was over. 
 
 And now the Dragon-fly raced madly on, 
 blown by the furious gale. Uncle Jack keeping her 
 as steady as possible, and aiming for — he knew 
 not where. The sky was as black as night, and 
 the howling of the wind in the rigging was dread- 
 ful. For fifteen minutes this storm continued, 
 then the sky began to lighten a bit, the wind died 
 gradually out, and the sun shone on them again, 
 for it had been only a summer storm, and though 
 violent, did not last long. And now, to their utter 
 amazement, they saw directly before them an isl- 
 and which was quite unknown, even to Uncle Jack 
 who had sailed in these waters for years. Between 
 them and the island, however, and standing like 
 sentinels on guard, was a reef of angry looking 
 rocks, against which the breakers were dashing 
 with tremendous force. "We must keep away 
 from them," said Uncle Jack, when to his horror, 
 
The Upsidedownians. 149 
 
 he found that a very strong current was carrying 
 the boat directly upon them ! 
 
 In vain did he try to turn it, while the children 
 sat silently with white faces, clasping each others 
 hands, and expecting every moment to be dashed 
 to pieces. "If we can but reach the quiet water 
 beyond," thought Uncle Jack, "we shall be all 
 right," and to his unutterable relief, the waves, in- 
 stead of dashing them against the cruel rocks, 
 carried them right between two tall ones, into the 
 still water. But when the boat got there, it im- 
 mediately turned upside down, breaking the mast, 
 and throwing them and everything else out. For- 
 tunately, being near the shore, the water was not 
 more than two feet deep, so the spill did not in- 
 jure them in any way, except to give them a 
 ducking. Taking the rope which was on the bow 
 of the Dragon-fly, they all waded ashore, and Uncle 
 Jack fastened the rope to the stump of a tree. 
 
 " Now come, children," said he, " let us 
 look about; there may be people on this island, 
 who will help us. We must dry our clothes, and 
 mend our boat before we can go home." 
 
150 The Upsidedownians. 
 
 "Uncle," said Sam, "what shall we do if there 
 are no people here?" 
 
 "Well, in that case, we will make a fire oun 
 selves. I have matches in my pocket, and there 
 seems to be plenty of wood. But first, let us 
 make sure that we are on a desert island." 
 
 So they turned from the water, and walked on, 
 when to their amazement, they saw coming toward 
 them, three most astonishing figures ! A very old 
 man, and two children, a boy and a girl about the 
 age of Sam and Molly. There was nothing ve/y 
 remarkable about this, but can you believe me, 
 when I tell you that all three were walking on 
 their hands, while their feet stuck straight up in 
 the air ! Each had a pair of brushes, like blacking 
 brushes, their hands being thrust through the 
 straps at the back, and on these they walked, to 
 protect their hands from the rough stones. But 
 when they came near, each jumped quickly on his 
 feet,, and taking off one brush, shook hands heart- 
 ily with the strangers, bidding them welcome to 
 the Upsidedown Island. 
 
 " You were very fortunate not to get drowned," 
 
The Upsidedownians. 
 
 151 
 
 said the old man. '' People who are bold enough 
 to try to come to this island, are dashed first 
 against those rocks, and then turned upside down." 
 " But we did not try to come," said Molly, 
 "the waves brought us." 
 
 "Ah," said the old man, "that is probably 
 why you escaped. The rocks guard us, and do 
 not let inquisitive people land. However, as the 
 waves have brought you, in spite of yourselves, 
 
152 The Upsidedownians. 
 
 you are heartily welcome. But you are wet, come 
 to my house, dry your clothes and have dinner." 
 So saying, the three thrust their hands into their 
 brush-straps, and walking as before, led the way 
 to the village. 
 
 Of course, there could be no conversation, 
 while these strange people were in this ridiculous 
 position, so that Uncle Jack and the two children 
 had ample time to look about them. And many 
 strange things they saw. Fields carefully culti- 
 vated, and trees that looked like our trees, but 
 which bore the strangest fruit you can imagine. In 
 a field, at a little distance, they saw what looked 
 like bean-poles, which, however, were waving back 
 and forth. When they got nearer, they found they 
 were not poles at all, but the legs of a herd of 
 cows, the cows themselves lying flat on their 
 backs, with their legs straight up in the air, and 
 turning their heads over occasionally to get a nib- 
 ble at the rich, green grass. 
 
 When Uncle Jack and the children reached the 
 village, they found that everyone there was walk- 
 ing in the same absurd way, as the \hree who had 
 
The Upsidedownians. 153 
 
 met them. They could not help asking why this 
 was done. 
 
 " Dry your clothes first," said the old man, 
 "and have your dinner with us, and then I will 
 tell you all about us Upsidedownians. Dinner 
 will be ready before long. See, there are my two 
 grandsons picking the potatoes and digging the 
 apples," and Uncle Jack and the two children 
 actually did see them, doing this very thing. One 
 of the boys was picking potatoes from a tree, while 
 the other was digging rosy cheeked apples from 
 the brown earth 1 1 They could scarcely wait to 
 be told the meaning of all this. 
 
 After their clothes had been thoroughly dried, 
 they were called to dinner, and were relieved to 
 find that the Upsidedownians sat at the table as 
 they themselves did, keeping their feet down on 
 the ground. The dinner itself was a queer affair, 
 although the food was excellent, and well-cooked. 
 First they were given candied fruit, and a dish of 
 the ripe red apples they saw dug from the ground. 
 Then they had fish and some of the potatoes 
 which they had seen picked from the trees, and 
 
154 The Upsldedownians. 
 
 lastly, some soup made from the roots of a plant 
 which grew on the island. 
 
 "You are surprised," said the old man, "that 
 we serve our soup last, but the reason is simple. 
 You see, standing as we Upsidedownians do, so 
 much of the time, with our heads down, our stom- 
 achs get, after a while, turned topsy-turvy, so that 
 we are obliged to begin with the dessert, and end 
 with the soup, in order that our dinner may be 
 properly digested." 
 
 And Uncle Jack said, " I see," for he really 
 was not quite sure, whether he himself was stand- 
 ing on his head or his heels. "But why," he 
 asked, " do you walk on your hands at all ? " 
 
 "I will tell you," said the old man. "This 
 then is the history of our people. Our great-great- 
 great grandparents were people who lived in a 
 country far from here. They were not satisfied 
 there. They thought everything was wrong, and 
 longed to go to some far-away land, where they 
 could make a new world, with everything their 
 own way. They went off in a big ship and sailed 
 and sailed for a year and a day, but every land 
 
The Upsidedownians. 155 
 
 they came to, had people on it, all doing just as 
 in the land which they had left. At last, one day 
 our island was reached, and sailing around and 
 around it, they could see no house, no man, wo- 
 man, nor child, and they said : * Here we will land, 
 here we will live, where we can have everything 
 our own way.' But when they tried to land, the 
 rocks seized their boats and turned them upside- 
 down, spilling them all out into the water ! For- 
 tunately, it happened to be a calm day, when the 
 water was like glass, and, though with much diffi- 
 culty, they all managed to get safely to land. 
 Here they lived, and here their children, and 
 great-great-great grandchildren have lived ever 
 since. We try hard to do everything quite dif- 
 ferently from the way they do in the land our 
 grandparents came from." 
 
 " I think you have succeeded admirably," said 
 Uncle Jack, heartily. 
 
 **You do? Ah, well we do our best, we do 
 our best," and the old man rubbed his hands to- 
 gether, delightedly. 
 
 "Of course, it was hard for us to learn to walk 
 
156 The Upsidedownians. 
 
 on our hands, and hard, too, to make potato^ 
 grow on trees, and apples in the earth, but we 
 succeeded at last," he said, triumphantly. 
 
 "Yes, you have indeed succeeded," said Uncle 
 Jack, "but will you tell me, why is your way 
 better than the old ? " 
 
 "Because it is our way," said the old man, 
 and to this Uncle Jack could find no possible 
 answer. " Our power and influence are great. 
 Our will here is law, and all who approach our 
 island must obey that law. Look up, stranger. 
 Watch that gull." 
 
 " Looking up. Uncle Jack and the children saw 
 a huge gull flying lazily toward the island, his 
 white wings spread and glistening in the bright 
 sunlight. He went in the ordinary way till he was 
 directly over them when he immediately turned 
 and flew upside-down till he found himself once 
 more beyond the island and over the water, when 
 he again turned, and flew like a common, every- 
 day gull. 
 
 "Astonishing," said Uncle Jack and the chil- 
 dren. 
 
 " Same with the fishes, whose home is near the 
 
The Upsidedownians. 157 
 
 island," said Smith Mr. (for that, they found was 
 the old gentleman's name), ''and speaking of 
 fishes, reminds me of your boat. I suppose you 
 will want to have us help you mend and put it in 
 proper condition again, for your homeward voyage. 
 We will do so to-morrow, and you will, I hope, 
 spend to-night with us ? There will be plenty of 
 room for you all on my roof" 
 
 "On the roof?" cried Uncle Jack, Sam, and 
 Molly together. "Is it possible that you Upside- 
 downians sleep on the roofs of your houses ? " 
 
 "Certainly we do," said Smith Mr. "We 
 would not sleep as they do in the land where our 
 great-great-great grandfathers and also our great- 
 great-great grandmothers came from." 
 
 " I think we will not spend the night with 
 you," said Uncle Jack, hastily. " But we will be 
 greatly obliged to you Smith Mr. if you will give 
 us help in mending our boat." 
 
 "Gladly," said the old man, and followed by 
 all the village-people clattering over the rocks on 
 their brushes, and with feet held high and straight 
 in air, they walked to the shore. 
 
 Pulling in the boat by the rope, they all worked 
 
158 The Upsidedownians. 
 
 hard to get it in condition, and were so kind and 
 helpful, that everything was done in less than half 
 an hour. Then, when they were about to start, a 
 boy came from the village, balancing on his feet 
 a basket of the tree-potatoes, and earth-apples, 
 which he gave to them. A glass of milk also was 
 given to each of the children. They were aston- 
 ished to see all the cream settled at the bottom of 
 the glass. 
 
 ** When cows feed, lying on their backs," said 
 Smith Mr., *'the cream always falls to the bottom 
 of the milk." 
 
 As they got into their boat, he said: ''You 
 may tell your friends about us, that they may 
 wonder, but never let them know where this island 
 is. Promise me," and Uncle Jack, Molly, and Sam 
 promised, and thanking them all for their kind- 
 ness, the boat was pushed off. They had great 
 difficulty in keeping it upright, although the water 
 was perfectly calm. Twice before reaching the 
 rocks, it was almost upset, and the third time 
 would have been, had not the kind-hearted Up- 
 sidedownians jumped into the water, and held it 
 
The Upsidedownians. 159 
 
 This was, of course, difficult for them to do, as 
 they had, while in the water, to stand on their 
 tender feet. But they at last reached the rocks, 
 and then, all pushing together, out between the 
 two high ones — shot the Dragon-fly, and the dan- 
 ger was over. 
 
 Shouting good-bye and waving their hats to 
 the crowd of Upsidedownians, who stood on the 
 shore, with heads down, clapping their feet fran- 
 tically together, the Dragon-fly sailed home, and 
 reached there at just nine o'clock. 
 
THE IRON DOG. 
 
 ARNOLD'S father and mother had taken for 
 the summer a big, gray house, near the 
 big gray sea, and they had just come 
 down. Behind the house there was a beautiful 
 garden, a wild tangled garden, with more flowers 
 than you can imagine, climbing and growing 
 everywhere. In front, the green, smooth-shaven 
 lawn sloped down to the very sea, and standing 
 directly in the middle was a large iron Dog. He 
 was big, he was fierce, his tail stuck straight up in 
 the air, and no dog had ever been known to ap- 
 proach him. Arnold's father, strange to say, did 
 not appreciate his beauties, and asked the owner 
 of the place to remove him, but as the man 
 thought it would be a difficult matter, and as 
 Arnold, who was delighted with the Dog, begged 
 
The Iron Dog. i6i 
 
 hard to have him remain, his father at last, con- 
 sented. 
 
 " / think that iron Dog is the most beautiful 
 thing here," said Arnold. 
 
 "Then enjoy him to your heart's content," 
 said Papa, smiling and kissing his little boy. 
 
 And Arnold did enjoy him. He got on his 
 back and rode him, whacking him hard with 
 a stout stick. He brought him make-believe 
 dinners, and decorated him with beautiful daisy 
 chains. In fact, the Dog was in every way a most 
 satisfactory companion, and they never quarrelled. 
 
 One night, Arnold's father and mother went to 
 a dinner-party. The house was several miles 
 away, and they were not to return till twelve 
 o'clock. " Bread and milk and one cookie for 
 supper," said Mamma, as she kissed Arnold good- 
 bye. Supper-time came, and with it the large 
 bowl of rich milk and white bread, while on 
 a small plate lay the tempting cookie. After 
 supper, Arnold spent an hour playing with the 
 white cat and her three kittens, and then he 
 went to bed. But after Mary left him, he could 
 
1 62 The Iron Dog. 
 
 not seem to sleep, but tossed and turned, tossed 
 and turned, fell asleep for a second, and then 
 woke up again. 
 
 ** Mary, Mary," he shouted, but Mary had gone 
 out walking with one of her friends, and the lonely 
 little boy called in vain. At last he got up, put 
 on his slippers, and running to the window, which 
 was wide open, looked out. The warm summer 
 air blew softly in, and the moon which was full, 
 was flooding the whole world with a silvery I'ght. 
 A.rnold could hear the sea at the foot of the lawn 
 softly ** lap-lapping " the shore. Then he saw his 
 friend, the Dog, standing on guard, on the lawn, 
 looking bigger and more threatening than ever, 
 his shadow reaching far off at one side. 
 
 " I will go out into the silver world and see my 
 Dog," said he, " for Mary will not come to me, and 
 I am dreadfully lonesome." 
 
 So putting on his little red dressing gown, 
 down stairs he ran, into the library, through the 
 tall glass door to the piazza and across the lawn. 
 Ah, how delicious it was ! To his iron friend he 
 ran, and mounting him, put his two warm arms 
 
The Iron Dog. 
 
 163 
 
 about his neck, and stooping, kissed him gently 
 between his ears. Just then, the bell in the church 
 at Marlscombe, a mile away, began to strike ten, 
 sounding very loud indeed in the stillness of the 
 
 night. While it was yet striking, Arnold became 
 aware of something which frightened him so much 
 that he almost fell off. For the iron Dog's body 
 beneath him had suddenly began to grow warm-f 
 
164 The Iron Dog. 
 
 Then — in a minute — his tail began to move — 
 s-1-o-w-l-y, s-1-o-w-l-y wagging from side to side. 
 Next he gave himself a tremendous shake, and 
 then — then — he jumped from the pedestal — a liv- 
 ing Dog! ! And just then the bell stopped ringing. 
 Arnold screamed in his astonishment and fright, 
 but the Dog looking back at him with friendly 
 eyes, said : 
 
 " Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you. I suppose 
 you thought I was a common, every-day iron 
 dog?" 
 
 " I always thought you a very beautiful dog," 
 said Arnold. At this the animal looked pleased. 
 
 "I am very glad, Arnold," he said, "that you 
 happened to come out to-night. On every other 
 night, I am as other iron dogs, but on the first 
 night of every month from ten to twelve, I am 
 alive, and this is my night." 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad then," said the little boy, 
 "that I came, for I should otherwise have known 
 nothing about it." 
 
 " I will take you about with me," said the Dog, 
 "but first I must have some words with you. 
 
The Iron Dog. 165 
 
 Never again whack me so cruelly with that horrid 
 stick." 
 
 " Dear Doggie, I will not," faltered Arnold, 
 ** I did n't know you could feel, you see." 
 
 *' Do I then look like one who has no feel- 
 ing ? " said the Dog, angrily. 
 
 "No," said Arnold, "you don't and I will 
 never beat you again." 
 
 " Then," continued the Dog, " don't mortify 
 me by putting those silly daisy chains about my 
 neck. I am ashamed of them. Make me, instead, 
 a collar of the beautiful dog-wood." 
 
 "Oh no, that would poison us," said Arnold. 
 
 "What would poison us ?" 
 
 "Dog- wood." 
 
 " I would like to see the dog who would poi- 
 son me," and he growled fiercely. 
 
 "I mean," Arnold hastened to assure him, 
 "the plant would poison us." 
 
 " Oh," said the Dog, mollified. " But come, 
 we are wasting time, and I have a skunk to kill 
 to-night. First, I must have a drink of water." 
 
 "Are you thirsty ? " said Arnold. 
 
1 66 The Iron Dog. 
 
 " Indeed, I am. Would n't you be thirsty, if 
 you had had no water for four long weeks ? " And 
 Arnold admitted that he would. So the Dog gal- 
 loped to a watering trough, stopping on the way 
 to bark at the moon, and a metallic bark it was 
 too. Then the drink began. "Gurgle, gurgle" 
 went the water through the hollow body. First 
 the legs were filled, then the body, the head, and 
 then the beautiful upright tail. 
 
 "There," said he, "that ought to last for some 
 time. And now for my skunk, for there is that 
 clock actually striking eleven already." 
 
 "Oh, must you kill the skunk to-night?" said 
 Arnold, who did not at all like the idea. 
 
 " Certainly, I must. Do I look like one, who 
 having once seen a skunk, would let him live?" 
 said the Dog, who really seemed a boastful fellow. 
 
 "Indeed you don't," said Arnold, heartily. 
 
 "I was almost upon him last month," contin- 
 ued his friend, "when he suddenly disappeared 
 in a hole and I had not time to catch him 
 Come." So, swiftly galloped the Dog over 
 stones and bushes, Arnold with his two arms 
 
The Iron Dog. 167 
 
 about his neck and wishing heartily that he was in 
 his own little bed. But he was ashamed to ask to 
 get off. 
 
 "We are getting near him," panted the Dog, 
 and Arnold was in a minute fully persuaded that 
 this was so. 
 
 " Oh, do go back," he begged, but his friend 
 refused. Soon they beheld a small black and 
 white animal flying across the field. 
 
 *' Hurrah, we 're in luck, Arnold. There he 
 is." 
 
 But the iron Dog had forgotten that the jour- 
 ney to the field was long, and that time had flown. 
 Before he could even begin the chase, to the boy's 
 great relief the big bell began to toll the hour of 
 twelve. 
 
 ** Arnold, Arnold," cried the poor animal, 
 skunk and everything forgotten, " 't is the hour. 
 I must reach my pedestal before twelve has fully 
 struck, or I shall turn into iron, wherever I may 
 be." 
 
 " One;' said the bell. 
 
 " Hurry then," screamed Arnold, and the Dog 
 
1 68 The Iron Dog. 
 
 began his flight. He galloped, he flew, over 
 stones, walls, and bushes. 
 
 " Two!'' 
 
 On, on, over the shallow brook that was hurry- 
 ing to the sea, he flew with one bound. 
 
 *' Three!'' 
 
 It was for his life he ran. 
 
 " You '11 do it, but faster, faster," screamed 
 Arnold, who was as much excited as he. 
 
 '' Four ! Five ! " 
 
 " On, on, dear Dog." 
 
 '' Six ! Seven !" 
 
 Alas, there is still one field more to cross. 
 
 ''Eight!" 
 
 " Oh," he panted, " I should so hate to be 
 found * off my base.' 
 
 '' Nine !" 
 
 ''Shall I get off?" said Arnold. 
 
 " No, your weight is nothing. Don't leave 
 me." 
 
 ''Ten!" 
 
 "See," shrieked Arnold, "there is your ped- 
 estal — you '11 reach it ! " 
 
The Iron Dog. 169 
 
 But the Dog's iron joints were already stiffen- 
 ing, and creaked as he ran. He began to grow 
 cold, too, poor fellow, and his eyes, losing their 
 bright alert look, grew hard and dead. 
 
 " Eleven I " and the pedestal was reached. 
 
 " Here we are," and Arnold jumping down, 
 pushed the Dog toward it 1 One bound now, and 
 he was on ! ! 
 
 " Twelve ! " said the clock. 
 
 *' Dear, dear Doggie, I am so glad, so very, 
 very glad," said Arnold, hugging him and dancing 
 about him in great delight. 
 
 But the poor creature could make no answer, 
 for he was again a stiff, cold, iron Dog. Arnold 
 tried, but in vain, to push back one poor leg 
 that had not quite had time to get on, but stuck 
 straight out behind. Then, tired out with exer- 
 tion and excitement, and with one arm about the 
 cold neck of his friend, the little boy fell fast 
 asleep. But I am glad to say that his nap lasted 
 only for a moment, for fortunately his father and 
 mother were just coming home as the clock struck 
 twelve, and looking across the lawn recognized, 
 
170 
 
 The Iron Dog. 
 
 in the bright moonlight, the small figure in the red 
 gown. 
 
 •' 'T is Arnold," they cried, and stopping the 
 coachman, ran across the lawn. 
 
 ** Little boy, what does this mean ? " they asked, 
 and Arnold waking up, told them the whole won- 
 derful story. 
 
MY FLANNEL ROOSTER. 
 
 I AM a little girl and my name is Margaret. I 
 have a papa and a mamma, and I have also 
 a great many toys, but the toy I love best is 
 my own dear Rooster. He is really a beautiful 
 Rooster. He is made of red flannel, and is 
 very fat and has black worsted eyes, and two very 
 strong, stiff legs on which he can stand alone. It 
 really seems as if he could do everything except 
 crow, and as he can't do that, I do it for him. 
 The other day I caught a bad cold, and had to 
 stay in the house. I was playing with my Roos- 
 ter and forgot my cold, and tried to crow, but I 
 made such a funny, hoarse sound that it made me 
 laugh. The Rooster stood on the table before me, 
 and I began again, when what do you think he 
 did? He turned his head slowly, and looking 
 sternly at me, said : 
 
 «7X 
 
172 My Flannel Rooster. 
 
 ** Do you call that a crow, young person ? 
 Because / call it ridiculous, and must beg you to 
 be silent, if that is the best you can do." 
 
 I was so surprised that for a minute I just 
 looked at him and could n't say one word, then I 
 began : 
 
 " But, Rooster, I did n't know before that 
 roosters could talk." 
 
 "Well," said he, they can't usually; in fact, I 
 suppose I am the first one who ever did talk, but 
 I positively could not keep still while you were 
 making such an absurd noise. It is enough to 
 make any rooster talk to hear you." Here he 
 yawned. " I beg your pardon, Margaret, but I am 
 veiy tired. I had to get up so early this morning — 
 you know we roosters are obliged to be up by day- 
 break. I often try to make you get up too," and 
 here he looked so sternly at me that I really felt 
 frightened, "but" continued he, "it is of no use 
 and I always have to comb my own feathers and 
 get myself ready." 
 
 "But, Rooster," said I, "how can you comb 
 your feathers ?" 
 
My Flannel Rooster, 
 
 173 
 
 ''You are a silly girl," said he. *' Of course I 
 comb them with my comb. But after all, one 
 must not expect too much," he added. "It isn't 
 your fault, Margaret, that you are only a girl — we 
 can't all be roosters. But now listen and I will 
 teach you how to crow." 
 
 Then he began, and except that it sounded 
 somewhat soft and flannelly, he really did crow 
 very well. When he 
 had finished, he looked 
 at me, and actually 
 winked one of his 
 worsted eyes ! 
 
 " Now listen again," 
 said he, "and prepare 
 this time to hear 
 something really fine. 
 " Cock — a — doooo — " 
 he began at the top of 
 his voice, when sud- 
 denly something hap- 
 pened. I think the people who made him must 
 have put too much stuffing in his little throat, but 
 
174 My Flannel Rooster. 
 
 anyway ** crrrrrrrack " went a thread and out came 
 the stuffing all along his neck, beginning at his 
 poor mouth ! I suppose those people thought he 
 was a common toy rooster, and did not suspect 
 what a wonderful little fellow he really was. Not 
 expecting him to crow, they left no room for it, 
 you see, and then when the crow came, why out 
 the stuffing had to pop ! 
 
 Well, I mended him, and oh, so carefully, but 
 not one word has the dear little fellow ever spoken 
 to me since ! 
 
THE STATUE AND THE BIRDS. 
 
 THERE was once a little Bird. Such a dear 
 little creature. I wish you could have 
 known her, but as you did n't I suppose I 
 shall have to tell you about her and what hap- 
 pened to her. She had been spending the winter 
 in the South and now that the warm summer was 
 coming, had come back to her Northern home. 
 She had a mate, and the two were now looking 
 for a nice, sheltered spot. What for ? Guess. 
 Yes, you are right, it was for their nest. 
 
 " Let us build here in this fine, large Oak- 
 tree," said he. 
 
 But his little wife said, " No, I want a new 
 place. Birds always build their nests in trees. 
 Let us choose a place where no bird has ever built 
 before." 
 
 Near them was a large white Statue of a man, 
 
 135 
 
1 76 The Statue and the Birds. 
 
 seated in a big arm-chair. One hand was slightly 
 raised and held a manuscript 
 
 " Here, here," chirped the Bird, "here we will 
 build," and to the Statue she flew, alighting on its 
 shoulder. Then hop, hop, down she went and 
 darted in under the manuscript. And indeed 
 't was a cozy spot for a house, for the manuscript 
 made a most beautiful roof. The big Oak-tree 
 spoke to the Bird, begging her to come to him and 
 build her nest. 
 
 *'I will shelter you; I will rock you gently up 
 and down, back and forth, for I love birds. 
 Come, come to me." And the husband-bird 
 agreed with him and would gladly have gone to 
 him, but seeing that his wife had made up her 
 mind against it, he said nothing at all, being an 
 exceedingly wise little bird. 
 
 Then they began to build their nest, and oh, 
 how they worked, and oh, oh, how they chattered. 
 But in the end they made a beautiful nest, lining 
 and interlining it, till really I should have liked to 
 live there myself. And one night, the little wife 
 said to her husband : *' The nest is done." 
 
177 
 
1 78 The Statue and the Birds. 
 
 "It is," said he. 
 
 " And it is well done," said she. 
 
 *'It is," said he. 
 
 "It is very well done," said she. 
 
 "It is," said he, and then they went to bed. 
 Now on the next day, and for them, poor little 
 things, 't was to be a sad day indeed, two men 
 came and stood before the Statue. You can 
 imagine their feelings when one said : 
 
 " Yes, Patrick, get your ladder, and give the 
 Statue a good washing, for it really does look very 
 dirty," and the other man answered : 
 
 " Yis, sorr," and then they both went away. 
 
 "Oh," screamed the birds, "how dreadful, for 
 if he washes the Statue, we shall be discovered, 
 and our home torn down and thrown away." 
 
 Then the little wife-bird hopped on to one 
 knee of the big Statue and begged piteously for 
 help, while the little husband-bird rushed to the 
 other knee and did the same. 
 
 "Don't let them tear down our beautiful 
 home," said one. 
 
The Statue and the Birds. 179 
 
 " Protect us, for we came to you and trusted 
 you," said the other. 
 
 " Our dear home, that we worked so hard to 
 build," said he. 
 
 "And that we had just finished," added she, 
 her voice breaking. 
 
 Then they both listened for the Statue's answer. 
 But he made no answer, and his cold eyes looked 
 at them and did not soften. Then they sobbed 
 aloud. 
 
 •' I think your heart must be of stone, like the 
 rest of you," said the husband at last. But the 
 wife said : 
 
 " Perhaps, he is not really as cold as he seems. 
 He has a kind face, and may help us, after all," 
 and running to him, she whispered in his ear : 
 ** Dear Statue, when the man comes, strike him 
 down. He is going to wash and scrub you, and 
 I am sure you will not like that at all, will you? 
 No one does. So for your own sake, as well 
 as ours, strike, and strike hard." But the Statue 
 gave no sign that he had heard. 
 
i8o The Statue and the Birds. 
 
 The little Bird did not quite lose hope, how- 
 ever. "When the time comes, I am sure he will 
 not fail us," she said. 
 
 Soon the man came, and placing his ladder 
 against the Statue, began his work. 
 
 "Strike, strike, now is your time," screamed 
 the Bird. But, alas, the Statue remained as before, 
 and no blow was struck to defend the little home. 
 His head was thoroughly cleaned, and I really 
 think he must have been, at heart, a pretty poor 
 sort of Statue, for he did not even resent this, 
 but sat there calmly, while the man soaped and 
 scrubbed his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. And 
 the nest was at last discovered. 
 
 " Well, well," said the man, " a quare shpot 
 
 indade for to build a nist," and he threw it away. 
 
 The poor birds were broken-hearted. But 
 
 their friend, the big Oak-tree, comforted them, 
 
 saying : 
 
 "To-night you, with the help of your friends, 
 can bring your nest up here and spend the summer 
 with me, after all." 
 
 So when the darkness came, the birds called 
 
The Statue and the Birds. i8i 
 
 upon all their friends, who gladly helped them, 
 having pitied them, and they really succeeded in 
 lifting the nest and fastening it securely on a 
 branch of the Tree. But alas, the very next day 
 a man came and looking up at the Tree, said : 
 
 " That dead branch is dangerous ; it may fall at 
 any time and I will send Patrick to cut it off this 
 morning," and if you can believe me, the branch 
 he pointed at, was the very one on which the birds 
 had for the second time built their nest. 
 
 " Oh, Tree," they cried, "again our home is to 
 be taken from us. Save us." 
 
 And he answered : " Never fear, little Birds, I 
 will save your home, for did I not promise to pro- 
 tect you from all harm?" Then the Tree called 
 loudly to his friend the Wind, who had been play- 
 ing quietly near, and said : 
 
 ''Blow, Wind." And the Wind blew softly, 
 sweetly through the trees, and all the leaves 
 rustled and the branches rocked gently. Then 
 Patrick, the destroyer, appeared, carrying a ladder, 
 which he placed against the branch. Again the 
 Tree spoke : 
 
1 82 The Statue and the Birds. 
 
 "Wind, Wind, do you not hear me? Blow 
 hard, blow quick, as you love me, blow!'' The 
 last was fairly a shriek, which was, however, al- 
 most drowned in the sudden rush of the on-com- 
 ing Wind, which had sprung up to answer the 
 Tree's loud call. IVhooooooo ! ! he roared, and the 
 Tree rocked back and forth ! Patrick, who was not 
 a very brave man, was frightened at the sudden 
 fierce wind. 
 
 "Well, well," said he, "av Oi don't be look- 
 in' out, Oi'll be blowed away intoirely," — ^and off 
 he ran, leaving the ladder still resting against the 
 branch. This was just what the Tree wished. 
 
 " Blow harder. Wind," he shouted ; so louder 
 yet roared the Wind, and back and forth swayed 
 the Tree, and up and down, up and down went 
 the branch on which the ladder rested, till, at last, 
 no decent ladder could stand it any longer, so back 
 he fell with a great crash. And on what do you 
 suppose he fell ? On the Statue. And the Tree 
 aimed well, for not only did he hit the Statue, but 
 broke off his nose (and every one knows that a 
 statue with a broken nose can never be the same 
 
The Statue and the Birds. 183 
 
 again). Not only the nose was broken, but the 
 arm as well, and the very arm too that had re- 
 fused to strike a blow in defence of a poor little 
 bird's home. 
 
 " Now, Birds," said the Tree, much pleased at 
 what had been done, " call your friends and move 
 your nest up here," and he pointed to a safe place 
 higher; so once more the home was moved. 
 Later Patrick removed the dead branch and stared 
 in astonishment at the Statue. 
 
 *'Av Oi'd a shtayed, Oi 'd a looked loike 
 thot," said he. 
 
 The Statue was mended but was never the same 
 man again. And the Birds stayed with their kind 
 friend, the Tree, all through the summer, and sang 
 loudly to him, for joy, content, and gratitude were 
 in their hearts, and later when some little bird- 
 children came, they told them of the Tree's kind- 
 ness, and the wee birdies, too, sang to him all 
 through the long warm summer, and the Tree was 
 happy. And this was the song they sang : 
 
 You never should build on a statue of stone 
 For his heart is as cold as he ! 
 
184 The Statue and the Birds. 
 
 The loveliest place is, I am sure you will own, 
 Near the heart of a big oak-tree ! 
 
 Cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep ! 
 The loveliest place that can be 
 Is — cheep, cheep, cheep, cheep ! 
 Near the heart of a big oak-tree. 
 
THE TOAD-BOY. 
 
 THERE was once a Toad who lived near a 
 big flat stone in the forest. As he sat by 
 his hole one day, a Boy passed. The 
 Toad looked at him, and said : 
 " Oh, how I wish I were a boy." 
 " Then w^hy don't you be one ? " said a Snake 
 who was near. 
 
 " I don't know how." 
 .. "If you really want to become a boy, I will 
 tell you how to do it," and the Snake winked 
 his wicked eyes at the Toad. " All you have to do 
 is to hop ten times round that flat stone, and then 
 without waiting a moment, hop quickly on the 
 stone itself Then you will become a boy." 
 
 "Thank you, kind Snake," said the Toad, 
 and he at once began. " Hop-i-ty, hop-i-ty, 
 
 i8j 
 
1 86 The Toad-Boy. 
 
 hop," round and round the stone. When he had 
 been round ten times and was just ready for the 
 final jump, the wicked Snake, who had been 
 watching, suddenly seized him by the leg, and 
 held him fast The poor Toad cried with pain 
 and disappointment ; but the next day he came 
 again, having made up his mind to try once more. 
 So he began, "hop-i-ty, hop-i-ty, hop," till he had 
 been round ten times. It took longer this time, 
 as his poor little leg was lame. Just as he was 
 about to make the final jump on the stone, out 
 sprang the Snake again and seized him by the 
 other leg. 
 
 "You are very unkind," said the poor Toad, 
 but the Snake only laughed and wriggled away. 
 The Toad sat there, crying bitterly. 
 
 "What is the matter?" said a friend who lived 
 near, and he listened sympathetically to the 
 story. 
 
 " Make one more trial," he advised, " and I 
 will help you." 
 
 So on the following morning the Toad com- 
 ing to the flat stone, began, for the third time, his 
 
The Toad-Boy. 
 
 187 
 
 journey. But he was obliged to go very, very 
 slowly, "hop-i-ty, hop-i-ty, hop," for his poor lit- 
 tle legs pained him dreadfully. 
 
 At last, he was ready for his final jump, when 
 as before, out popped the Snake. But this time 
 out popped somebody else at the same time — 
 ' t was the friendly Toad. And 
 what do you think he did ? He 
 gave one tremendous jump, and 
 came down directly on the Snake's 
 head, and as he was very fat and 
 heavy, the Snake was unable to 
 move. Our Toad, meanwhile, had 
 succeeded in reaching the stone, 
 and at once began to feel very 
 strangely. First, his toad-skin 
 began to **c-r-r-r-rack, c-r-r-r- 
 rack," and finally fell from 
 him altogether ; then he 
 grew taller and taller, and 
 then before you could count five, a doy stood 
 where a toad had been before I He stepped from 
 the stone and tried to walk, which at first was a 
 
1 88 The Toad- Boy. 
 
 very difficult matter, as his legs were weak, but as 
 he went on they became stronger. 
 
 He walked on and on through the woods, 
 picking, with his new little hands, the beautiful 
 flowers, which he had never even noticed before, 
 when he was a Toad, but which he now thought 
 very lovely. Soon he began to feel hungry, for 
 he did not seem to care to eat the fat flies, which 
 were flying lazily about, and which when he was a 
 Toad, used to seem so delicious to him. And not 
 only did he long for something to eat, but he was 
 tired as well, ah, so tired ; the night, too, was com- 
 ing on and he wanted a soft bed. And more 
 than all, his poor little heart began to ache — 
 ache for a kind, loving mamma. He had now 
 reached a high-road, and made up his mind that 
 he would walk down it, in search of the things he 
 needed. He soon came to a house, and walking 
 timidly to the door, asked the lady there if she 
 would like to have a little boy. She said : 
 
 "No, I have already one little boy." Then as 
 the light fell full on his face, the lady screamed 
 and said : " Oh, what is the matter with you ? 
 
The Toad-Boy. 189 
 
 Go away." And he walked to the next house. 
 There, too, he asked the lady if she did not want 
 a little boy. 
 
 " No," said she, "I have already two little boys 
 of my own." Then as he turned to leave, she 
 too saw his face, screamed, and shut the door 
 quickly. 
 
 To the third house he went, and there the lady 
 had three boys. But she gave him some bread 
 and butter and spoke kindly to him. At this 
 house the lamps were not yet lighted, so that she 
 could not see his face. He walked away eating 
 his bread and butter, but with a very heavy heart. 
 Sitting down by the road-side, he cried bitterly. 
 
 "No one wants me," he sobbed, " I have no dear, 
 kind mamma to love and pet me, and I am afraid 
 I shall have to become a toad again." Just then 
 he heard the sound of an approaching carriage, and 
 looking up, saw its lamps, shining like two great 
 eyes in the darkness. In the carriage sat a lady, 
 who, hearing the child's cries, stopped and said : 
 
 "What is the matter, little boy? Why don't 
 you go home to your mamma ? " 
 
igo The Toad- Boy. 
 
 ** I have no home and I have no mamma," he 
 said, sadly, " Oh, dear Lady, don't ^^^ want a little 
 boy, and won't you be my mamma ? " 
 
 "Yes," said the lady, "I will take you gladly, 
 for I have no boy of my own. Come here, dear." 
 
 The poor little fellow walked to the side of the 
 carriage, his beautiful golden curls shining in the 
 light of the lamps. But alas, the light showed 
 something else, for when he was near enough for 
 the lady to see him distinctly, she too, like the 
 others, shrank away. 
 
 "Poor, poor child," she said. 
 
 "What is the matter with me ; Lady, why do 
 you look so sadly at me?" said the Boy, his lip 
 quivering. 
 
 "Look," said she, giving him a small mirror 
 which hung at the side of the carriage. In this he 
 looked, and saw — a boy's head with beautiful 
 golden curls, but the /ace, was the horrid green 
 face of a toad ! He screamed in his fright, and 
 then he told his story to the lady, who was very 
 much interested. 
 
 " I advise you," said she, "to go back and find 
 
The Toad-Boy. 191 
 
 that Snake and make him tell you how to get rid 
 of the toad-face and how to get a boy-face. If you 
 are successful, come to my house," and she 
 pointed to a big house near, "and be my own 
 dear boy." 
 
 He thanked her very much and back he went 
 to the woods. The night was hot and he slept 
 comfortably under a big tree on a soft pile of 
 leaves. In the early morning, he began his search 
 for the Snake, but, although he spent hours in 
 looking for him, he could not find him, and when 
 night came he was much discouraged. 
 
 "The Snake is gone, no one wants me, and it 
 will be much better for me to become a Toad 
 again," said he. So the poor little fellow found 
 the flat stone and counting carefully, walked round 
 it backward, the tears streaming from his eyes. 
 After he had gone round ten times, and was 
 about to take the final jump on the stone, out 
 popped that same horrid Snake, and tried to 
 catch him by the heel, when the Boy, who although 
 he had the face of a toad, had the brains and 
 hands of a boy, quickly seized the creature, and 
 
192 The Toad-Boy. 
 
 holding him so that he could not possibly bite, 
 began to squeeze him. 
 
 " Now, you bad fellow," said he, "I shall 
 squeeze you till you tell me what I want to 
 know." 
 
 The Snake, who was much frightened, said : 
 "I will." 
 
 "Then," said the Boy, "when I was a Toad, 
 you told me how to become a Boy — but what 
 kind^ you bad, bad Snake ? A boy with the horrid, 
 green spotted face of a toad. Now, you must tell 
 me how to change this." 
 
 "Go then," gasped the Snake, "to the milk- 
 weed — ^break a piece — rub the white juice over 
 your face — and you will at once — have the face 
 of a real boy." 
 
 So running quickly to the weed, first putting 
 down the Snake, and telling him to " crawl off," 
 which he did, hissing angrily as he went, the Boy 
 broke off a piece of the milkweed, and rubbed it 
 well into his green face. Running now to a pond 
 near, he looked down and saw reflected in it, the 
 face of a dear little boy, and oh, how happy the 
 
The Toad-Boy. 
 
 193 
 
 sight made him. Then fast as his legs could 
 carry him, he ran to the lady's house. She was 
 delighted to see him and kissed him on his new 
 little face, saying : 
 
 *' You are now to be my own son, dear, and I 
 shall expect you to be a very good Boy." 
 
 "I will try hard. Mamma," said he, "and I 
 don't think I shall fail, for I know I was a very 
 ^pod Toad." 
 
THE SAD EXPERIENCE OF POOR 
 POMPOSITY. 
 
 /^^urrrf Gurrrrr ! Gurrrrrr! What am I 
 ^^ growling at ? Do you see the small white 
 dog in that picture opposite — 't is at him I growl, 
 and I will tell you why. My Master is an 
 artist. One day he decided to paint me. Of 
 course you have noticed what a fine dog I am? 
 Have I not the brightest eyes, the silkiest hair, 
 the waggiest tail you ever saw? And can't you 
 almost see the blue blood through my delicate 
 skin? My Master and Mistress admire me very 
 much, and he wished naturally to paint a picture 
 of me. Somewhere in the background he also 
 put my mistress, an excellent foil to me. A few 
 weeks ago Master put the finishing touches to the 
 picture, completing the very tip of one of my 
 beautiful ears. "There," said he to Mistress, in 
 
 194 
 
Pomposity. 195 
 
 whose lap I was sitting, "that is Pomp himself 
 with his own air of conscious superiority and dig- 
 nity." (My real name, by the way, is not Pomp, 
 but Pomposity, and to tell you the honest truth, I 
 am not quite sure what it means. I wish I did 
 know, although of course, it is something very 
 nice.) Well, Mistress agreed with Master in 
 thinking that the picture could not be better, and 
 I was allowed to jump down. 
 
 Now in the studio, there is the very softest, 
 nicest chair you can imagine, but for some strange 
 reason my Master does not let me lie in it. He 
 told me himself that it was covered with old tap- 
 estry, and when I knew it was after all, nothing 
 nice and new, I sat upon it whenever he was — 
 well, whenever I felt like doing it. This night 
 after supper, I found, to my delight, the studio 
 door a little open, and creeping in, I went to my 
 dear chair, and was soon happily dozing. I heard 
 them calling and calling for me, but as I never 
 came at their call at any time, that did not 
 trouble me and I dozed on. At last they went 
 to bed and the house was still. The moon rose 
 
1 96 Pomposity. 
 
 and looked in the window. Curious old thing she 
 is. She stared at me till I growled, and at last I 
 actually had to turn my back toward her. Then 
 she looked at everything in the room, going into 
 all the dark corners and examining everything 
 carefully. At last she shone full on the picture, 
 and there she stayed and I could not blame her 
 for doing so, for it really looked very lovely. 
 
 While we were both gazing at it, you can im- 
 agine my feelings, when the dog in the picture, 
 the picture I, began to move! He turned about 
 and faced me. I was of course beside myself, and 
 running to the picture said : 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " 
 
 " Coming out to see you," was the saucy 
 answer. 
 
 " Never," said I angrily. " Master has often 
 said that there was no dog like me, and do you 
 think I am going to have a rival who looks exactly 
 like me, trotting about ? Go back. Don't you 
 know that you are only a painted dog ? You are 
 not real." 
 
 But the miserable little wretch only looked at 
 
Pomposity. 
 
 197 
 
 me defiantly. Still glaring at him and growling, 
 I backed slowly to my chair, but had not reached 
 it when the picture-dog, all wet with paint as he 
 was, jumped from his mistress's lap, and out into 
 
 the room ! And then the chase began. Round 
 he ran and round I ran after him. Over chairs 
 and tables we flew ! '* Crash;' and a beautiful 
 vase lay broken on the floor. '' Tssst^' and a 
 
1 98 Pomposity. 
 
 piece of Persian embroidery was torn as we passed 
 through it. " Crash," and another vase was 
 broken, and then — then, I caught him and gave 
 him a terrific bite on his hind-leg. But that one 
 bite was enough for me. Ugh ! Think of a dog 
 guilty of such bad taste as that, pretending to be 
 a dog of breeding. 
 
 He had now jumped upon me and gave me a 
 slight bite on the nose, but just at that moment 
 my picture-mistress called him. He ran at once, 
 and putting his two wet paws on the beautiful 
 gold frame pulled himself up and into the picture 
 and jumped on his mistress's lap. I was of course 
 very indignant with her for interfering, and run- 
 ning to the picture, said : 
 
 " Madame, did you ever hear of * Woman's 
 Sphere ' ? That frame is yours. Remain in it." 
 At these words, she was of course very much 
 ashamed of herself, and could not say one word 
 in answer. 
 
 And now comes the sad, sad part of my story. 
 When Master came in the next morning, I went 
 up to him like an honest dog, and explained mat- 
 
Pomposity. 199 
 
 ters. But he only gazed about the room, which, 
 indeed, did look dreadful in the bright light of day. 
 
 "Pomp, Pomp," he said, in a low blood-cur- 
 dling tone, and pointing first at the broken vases 
 and then at the wet paint which that miserable 
 little cur had scattered everywhere, •• naughty 
 dog," he continued, and then — then — he slapped 
 me! 
 
 I ran wildly to the picture, barking. I thought, 
 of course, that as soon as he saw those telltale 
 marks on the frame, Master would know who the 
 real culprit was. But alas, what do you think he 
 said? 
 
 "Yes, I see, Pomp, you were barking at your 
 picture, thinking it was another dog, and for that 
 opinion I am much obliged, I am sure. But why, 
 why did you walk over my palette before you 
 stepped on the frame? No, Pomp, you need not 
 shake your head. I know you did it, for see, here 
 are the marks of your two guilty little paws ! " 
 
 I was powerless, after this, to make him under- 
 stand the true facts of the case, although I never 
 would have believed that a man as intelligent as 
 
200 
 
 Pomposity. 
 
 Master, could be so stupid. Well, I was pun- 
 ished. No walk did I get that day, and for many, 
 many days I was forbidden to enter my dear stu- 
 dio. Master has now varnished the picture, I am 
 glad to say, so there is no chance of the dog's 
 ever getting out again. But do you wonder that 
 I growl at him, horrid beast? Grrrf Grrrr I 
 Grrrrrrr III 
 
RED-BOOTS. 
 
 ONE morning not long ago, a pair of little 
 red boots were placed in the window 
 of a large shoe-shop in Boston. They 
 were very pretty and they knew it, being, if the 
 truth must be told, somewhat vain, although at 
 bottom, they were good little soles. They were 
 placed in the middle of the window on a glass 
 shelf, and the shoe-man very thoughtfully put 
 them between two mirrors, so they could con- 
 stantly see themselves. After looking all about 
 them, they said (for being laced boots, they had 
 tongues) : 
 
 "We are surely far more beautiful than any 
 shoes here." 
 
 " That may be, but it is better to be of some 
 use in the world than to be merely beautiful," said 
 
202 Red-Boots. 
 
 a pair of stout commonsense walking boots from 
 the lower shelf. "But," he added heartily, "we 
 are very glad to welcome you here in our midst; 
 little Red-Boots," and all the other shoes squeaked 
 their approval. "Yes," continued he, "and not 
 only do we bid you welcome, but I propose that 
 to-night we give a ball in your honor, for 't is 
 seldom that such a beautiful pair of boots comes 
 to this window." 
 
 At this the boots grew redder than ever with 
 delight, and all in the window expressed pleasure, 
 particularly the dancing shoes, of which there were 
 many. 
 
 "And where will you get your music?" said 
 the red boots. All laughed at this. 
 
 " Look," said one, pointing to a broad band 
 of brass, which went directly across the window, 
 bearing the name of the owner of the shop, " what 
 is that?" 
 
 "A brass band," said Red-Boots. 
 
 " And what better music could one want than 
 that?" said the other. 
 
 After it grew dark, and the shop was closed, 
 
Red-Boots. 203 
 
 and all was quiet in the streets, the shoe ball 
 began. The brass band played, the shoe-horns 
 blew, and all the shoes squeaked. They were 
 very graceful, making but few mistakes, for the 
 commonsense pair led them. And so they mer- 
 rily danced till morning. And in the morning, a 
 lady and her little son entered the shop. 
 
 *' I want some red laced boots for my boy," 
 said she. And the man tried on those in the win- 
 dow, which proved a perfect fit. 
 
 " Now if they match these stockings, I will take 
 them," said the lady, opening a parcel she carried 
 and displaying a pair of lovely red silk stockings. 
 The boots were a little lighter than the stockings, 
 but the lady, being much pleased with them, took 
 them in spite of this, they first saying good-bye to 
 all their friends in the window. 
 
 Two days after, the red boots and stockings 
 were worn for the first time, and their four-year- 
 old master Robert was very proud of them. The 
 stockings were not very polite to the boots, saying : 
 
 "You are not nearly as pretty a color as we, 
 for you are too light" 
 
204 Red-Boots. 
 
 Now the boots had been taught never to 
 answer rudely so they said simply : 
 
 " Yes, Stockings, you are a prettier color than 
 we." This answer was so kind and polite, that 
 the stockings were ashamed, and ever after, were 
 very friendly. In a few days the stockings were 
 washed, and when they were sent upstairs again, 
 they were so changed, that the boots scarcely 
 knew them. They were now much lighter, and 
 they were streaked too, a light and dark red. 
 
 ''Oh, dear," they sighed, "we were carelessly 
 washed, and the color ran." 
 
 "Where?" said the boots. 
 
 "Away." 
 
 "And why did n't you run after it?" 
 
 "We could n't." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Boots, you ask too many questions." 
 
 " Perhaps I do, but you must remember that I 
 have two tongues." 
 
 "That is true, I had forgotten," said the stock- 
 ings. 
 
 Several weeks passed, and the boots and stock- 
 
Red-Boots. 205 
 
 ings grew old together. Their master Robert was 
 a good little fellow, and the shoes were fond of 
 him, and went everywhere with him, and hear now 
 what they did for him. 
 
 Robert was playing in the yard before his 
 house one day, when a hand-organ man appeared. 
 He looked first at the child, and then at all the 
 windows in the house, but no one was in sight. 
 
 " Has 00 dot a monkey wif 00?" said Robert. 
 
 " No," said the man, " but I have three at 
 home, and if you will come with me, I will show 
 them to you." And Robert, quite forgetting that 
 his mamma had told him never, never to go away 
 with any stranger, followed the man. 
 
 ''Stop, stop,'' said the boots, but the little boy, 
 not understanding the shoe-language only heard 
 " squeak, squeak-i-ty squeak." 
 
 On and on they went, till poor Robert began 
 to cry, but the man seizing him by the hand, hur- 
 ried him on till they came to his home — such a 
 wretched home. He gave Robert a crust of bread, 
 and taking off his coat and hat and boots told him 
 to lie down, and go to sleep, and the poor child, 
 
2o6 Red-Boots. 
 
 tired and homesick, did so, crying for his papa and 
 mamma. Meanwhile, his father and mother, find- 
 ing that he was lost, went at once to the police- 
 station. 
 
 "We have lost our little boy," said they. 
 " He had long yellow curls ; and he wore a black 
 hat and coat, and red boots and stockings." 
 
 "I am glad he did," said the policeman, "for 
 as most boys wear black ones, somebody will be 
 sure to have noticed his red ones, and we can 
 more easily trace him." 
 
 And so it proved. For many people had seen 
 a hand-organ man, and with him a crying boy, 
 and they had all noticed the red boots. At last 
 they traced him to the very house, and knocked at 
 the door. But the hand-organ man suspected who 
 it was, and taking up the sleeping child, put him 
 in another room and locked the door. Then 
 opening his house-door, he asked the policeman 
 and the lady and gentleman what they wanted. 
 
 "The child you stole," said the policeman, 
 sternly, and the wicked man said he knew nothing 
 about "any stolen child." Just then Robert's 
 
Red-Boots. 207 
 
 mamma, who had been looking all about the 
 room hoping to find her darling, suddenly gave a 
 cry of delight. In the corner she had seen — what ! 
 Two little red boots. And of course she knew 
 then that her boy was not far away. The police- 
 man now made the bad man unlock the other 
 door, and Robert was soon in his mother's arms. 
 
 •• Good little Red-Boots, dear little Red-Boots," 
 said she, "but for you, I might never have found 
 my darling boy. I shall not throw you away, but 
 will keep you forever." 
 
 And although many years have passed since 
 then, and Robert is now a very big boy, there is 
 upstairs a small box and in it are two tiny worn 
 red boots„ Ask Robert to show them to yoii 
 when you see him. 
 
SAVED. 
 
 DONALD was sitting in the big chintz-covered 
 chair in the drawing-room, staring at his 
 favorite picture — and indeed it was well 
 worth looking at. It was a sea-scene, a picture of 
 a dreadful storm. In fact, it was wonderful that 
 
 So8 
 
Saved. 209 
 
 the slender gilt frame could hold so great a storm 
 as was evidently going on there. The waves were 
 fearfully and wonderfully high, while the sky above 
 them was black and angry. At the left of the 
 picture stood a group of tall jagged rocks, while 
 very near, and aiming directly for them, was a poor 
 battered, storm-tossed ship. Its mast was broken, 
 and the torn sail dragged over the side. The rud- 
 der, too, must have been useless, for the boat 
 seemed to pay no attention to it, but obeyed only 
 the fierce wind, which was blowing it directly 
 toward the rocks and destruction ! 
 
 While Donald was looking at the boat, he sud- 
 denly sprang to his feet in amazement. It seemed 
 incredible — he could scarcely believe his ears, but 
 from that boat had come the unmistakable sound, 
 faint but yet distinct, of someone shouting. (Don- 
 ald told me this himself, so I am sure there could 
 have been no mistake.) Going nearer the picture 
 he could see that the waves were moving, actually 
 moving, while from the boat, and quite distinctly 
 now, came the cry, "Boy ahoy." Putting both 
 hands to his mouth, as his father had taught him 
 
2IO Saved. 
 
 to do when at sea, he answered : ** Ship ahoy ! 
 What is the matter?" 
 
 "Help us I " was the answer. "Our captain 
 is dead. Our boat is drifting on these rocks, and 
 we don't know what to do." 
 
 " Have you an anchor?" shouted Donald. 
 
 "Yes, two." 
 
 "Then, throw them both out," roared the boy. 
 This was evidently done. The rattling of the 
 anchor-chains could be distinctly heard in the 
 quiet room, even above the roaring of the storm. 
 Then Donald waited in breathless suspense, for 
 although he knew, of course, that anchors in real 
 seas did hold real ships, he could not know how 
 they might act in a picture-sea, and holding a 
 picture-boat. But anchors are anchors, after all, 
 wherever they be found. These held, and to Don- 
 ald's great delight and relief the boat was saved! 
 
 When Mamma heard the story later, she 
 smiled, and in fact, so did I, when he told me 
 about it in the afternoon. (I am Donald's aunt, 
 and we are great chums.) I thought, at first, as 
 his mother did, that he must have been dreaming, 
 
Saved. 
 
 21 t 
 
 but when he took me into the drawing-room, and 
 showed me the boat, and I found that in spite of 
 the dreadful wind which ought to have dashed it 
 on the rocks long before, it had not moved one 
 inch since morning, why then I thought to myself^ 
 something must have held that boat, and if it 
 wasn't an anchor, then what was it? What do 
 you think ? 
 
THE DISOBEDIENT ISLAND. 
 
 THERE was once upon a time a long, gray 
 Island, lying not far from the mainland. 
 On him there were trees and rocks, but no 
 houses. He had a son — the dearest wee Island 
 you ever saw. This little fellow was nestled up 
 very close by his father's side, in the water, but, 
 although he did not wear rubber shoes, he did not 
 mind being wet at all, nor did he ever catch cold. 
 On this small Island grew a beautiful oak-tree, 
 which spread its branches protectingly, completely 
 shading him from the hot sun. There were also 
 many lovely flowers there, and altogether it was 
 a very pretty place. Just opposite the Island, on 
 
 912 
 
The Disobedient Island. 213 
 
 the mainland, was a large red house, and in it 
 lived a papa, a mamma, and three children, Sam, 
 Bob, and their young sister Geraldine. They 
 owned a boat which was very broad and safe, and 
 they had all been taught to row and swim. A 
 pleasant day seldom came, that the children did 
 not go over to "their island " as they called it. 
 
 One day Sam said to his father : " I wish there 
 were a bridge leading from the big Island to the 
 little one, and then we could eat our luncheon 
 under the shade of that big tree." 
 
 "Sam, that is a very good idea," said his 
 father, " I must build one for you," and the chil- 
 dren all shouted in their delight. 
 
 " How lovely it will be." 
 
 "Yes," said the big Island, "I, too, shall like 
 that very much, for I shall be glad to be connected 
 with my little son." 
 
 But although he spoke in a loud voice, no one 
 paid the slightest attention to him. The next time 
 Mr. Arnold came to the Island he brought with 
 him on the boat, boards and nails, and before long, 
 with the boy's help, a bridge was built. There 
 
214 The Disobedient Island. 
 
 was a railing on one side, and it was strong, safe, 
 and very pretty. 
 
 "To-morrow, we will paint it," said Mr. Ar- 
 nold, so the next day they brought some bright 
 red paint, and when the bridge was painted with 
 this, it was really lovely. The children danced 
 with delight, and their big, black dog, " Diso- 
 bedience," was so much pleased, that he walked 
 directly on the wet red bridge, barking loudly all 
 the time ; then lay down, and rolled over and over ! 
 They called him again and again to " Come back, 
 come back," but he would not come, and really, 
 with such a name, I don't think he was very much 
 to blame. "Give a dog a bad name, and," as 
 everyone knows, " it will stick to him." But it did 
 not stick to him, nearly as hard as the paint did. 
 You never saw such an extraordinary sight as 
 that red-black dog. He was very red, and he 
 knew it, and tried to hide under a bush, but there 
 was no hope for him, so running to the boat he 
 curled himself down in the bottom and soon fell 
 fast asleep. When they returned later, to the 
 mainland, poor Disobedience was washed again 
 
The Disobedient Island. 215 
 
 and again, but in vain, for from each bath he 
 emerged a bright red dog. The man was at 
 last obliged to shave him, and to this he submit- 
 ted far less willingly than most young men of 
 his age. 
 
 And now, the children took their luncheon on 
 the small Island almost every day. They called 
 it "their dining-room," and a very good one it 
 made. They brought from the big Island a flat 
 stone for a table, and used the boat-cushions to 
 sit on. 
 
 One day, Bob brought with him a very inter- 
 esting book, called A Boys Adventures on Sea 
 and Land, which he read aloud to the others. He 
 thought he had only two listeners, Sam and Ger- 
 aldine, but there was a third, who was the most 
 interested of all — it was the little Island. Not a 
 word did he lose, and after the children went 
 home, he still kept thinking and thinking about 
 the wonderful adventures of that boy in the book. 
 Later in the evening he said to his father : 
 
 " Papa, may I not take a walk ? I should so 
 much like to see what is on your other side." 
 
2i6 The Disobedient Island. 
 
 "There is nothing there," said his father, 
 " but water, water, water. You must remain 
 where you are, it is not safe for you to move, my 
 son." 
 
 Nothing more was said, and the Papa-Island 
 was soon asleep. But the little Island was not 
 asleep but very wide awake. When he found 
 that his father slept, he began very cautiously to 
 move. First he stretched himself, then raised 
 himself slowly, s-1-o-w-l-y, when suddenly, ** c-r- 
 r-r-r-rack " went the bridge, broken right in the 
 middle I This bridge the Island had quite forgot- 
 ten, and he was so frightened, that he sat down 
 again, splash, into the water. Then he listened 
 to see if he had waked up his father, but no, the 
 old fellow was sleeping soundly. Islands, when 
 once they get aleep, are very sound sleepers. 
 After a few moments the naughty little son got up 
 again very, very quietly, and this time made no 
 noise but stepped farther and farther away from 
 his home. At first he was much pleased, as the 
 Moon was shining brightly, and the water was not 
 deep. But the Moon, as it happened, was a great 
 
The Disobedient Island. 217 
 
 friend of the Papa-Island, on whom she had shone 
 for many years. 
 
 "Go back," she said to the naughty Island. 
 
 " Oh, no," said he, "I am going to see the 
 world." 
 
 The Moon, much grieved, hid her face in her 
 handkerchief And what do you think her hand- 
 kerchief was ? A soft white cloud. Of course, 
 when she was crying she could not shine, and so 
 the small Island found himself in darkness. But 
 on he went, pretending that he liked it. 
 
 Suddenly — ah, it is so sad, I scarcely like to 
 tell you about it — he stepped into a very deep 
 hole, and went down, down, down out of sight, 
 till only the top of the beautiful tree could be seen 
 above the water ! He called loudly, piteously to 
 the Moon, who was now again looking at him. 
 But she was powerless to help. ** Oh, Papa, 
 Papa," he screamed, and this time the big Island, 
 hearing the splash and the cry, did wake up, and 
 finding his son gone, knew in a moment what had 
 happened. And over at the big house, on the 
 mainland, someone else must have heard the cry, 
 
2i8 The Disobedient Island. 
 
 perhaps in her dreams, for little Geraldine sud- 
 denly started up, and rushing to the window, 
 looked out into the moonlit night. She saw first 
 the big Island, then looking at the place where 
 the small Island ought to have been, found it was 
 gone ! Being only a very little girl, she was so 
 much frightened that she ran quickly back to bed 
 again, and fell fast asleep. 
 
 Meantime, the poor Papa-Island was in great 
 distress, for of course, he could not go himself to 
 pull out his son, and whom could he send? 
 
 "Will no one help me?" he said, and sud- 
 denly a small voice answered : 
 
 - 1 will." 
 
 Now, a family of birds lived at the end of 
 the Island and he had given them a pleasant 
 home, and had been kind to them in many ways, 
 and they were fond of him. It was one of these 
 who had spoken. 
 
 " I am afraid you cannot help me, little bird," 
 he said, sadly. " I need someone who is very 
 strong, and who can pull my naughty son out of 
 the water, and put him back by my side. He has 
 
The Disobedient Island. 219 
 
 run away from me, and there you see all that is 
 left of him." The bird looked, and saw only the 
 very top of the oak-tree, waving mournfully to 
 and fro. 
 
 "Well," he said, "that is, of course, a difficult 
 task, but I think, nevertheless, that I can help you, 
 for I am a King-bird, and one is not a king for 
 nothing. You have been kind to me and my 
 family, and in return, I am glad to do this for 
 you." 
 
 "But how?" 
 
 " Have patience, and you will see," was the 
 answer. 
 
 The King-bird now flew to the highest point 
 on the Island, and gave a very loud piercing 
 whistle, which was immediately answered from 
 the mainland, and repeated over and over again, 
 from the right, from the left, and then sounding 
 fainter and fainter as it came from a distance. 
 
 " Now," said the King-bird, " my subjects all 
 know that I desire their presence here, at once." 
 
 He had scarcely finished speaking when over- 
 head a faint "whirring" noise was heard, which 
 
220 The Disobedient Island. 
 
 grew louder and louder till it sounded like the 
 "roar of many waters," and soon tens, hundreds, 
 thousands of birds of all kinds appeared, and bow- 
 ing low to the King-bird, said : 
 
 "What does your Majesty wish us to do?** 
 
 "Something that will be very difficult, I fear," 
 said he, "but something which I feel sure, will be 
 done by you, my loyal subjects, if anyone on earth 
 or in air can do it." 
 
 At this the birds all cheered, and I wish you 
 could have heard that liquid, musical cheer, for the 
 lark led it. 
 
 "Now," continued his Majesty, "go at once, 
 and lift that small Island, which you see out there, 
 and put it back here," and he pointed to the place 
 where it had been. 
 
 " We will, we will," shouted all the birds, 
 courageously, and off they flew. Can you believe 
 me when I tell you that they actually did do this 
 wonderful thing? They pulled that small Island 
 up by means of the oak tree (which you remember 
 was partly above water) each one taking a twig, 
 and all pulling together, and as there were 
 
The Disobedient Island. 221 
 
 many wonderfully strong birds, eagles and others, 
 among them, they succeeded in doing it, and 
 placed the wet, shivering little Island by his 
 father's side, once more ! 
 
 '* Thank you, my subjects, I am indeed proud 
 of you," said the King-bird, while the big and 
 little Island thanked the birds over and over again, 
 till they were hoarse. And the sun, raising his 
 big round, red face above the water, shone upon 
 them all with warm approval. 
 
 When Geraldine got up the next morning, she 
 ran to the window, and there was the wee Island, 
 just where he had always been. So she said 
 nothing about what she had seen the night before, 
 because she thought she must have been dreaming. 
 After breakfast, the children said to their father : 
 
 " May we not go to the Island to-day, and 
 take luncheon in our " dining-room " ? 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Arnold, •* and Mamma and I 
 will go, too." So off they all went, Disobedience 
 with them. 
 
 When they got there, their father said : ** I will 
 take the lunch-basket to the dining-room." When 
 
22 2 The Disobedient Island. 
 
 he came to the bridge, he found only half a 
 bridge, the other half being broken off, and having 
 fallen partly into the water. The small Island, 
 too, was wet, very wet, all the leaves of the oak 
 tree fairly dripping with water. 
 
 **Well," said Mr. Arnold, "how did this hap- 
 pen ? A big wave must have washed completely 
 over the little Island, breaking the bridge on its 
 way, and yet I really don't see how it could have 
 done so." 
 
 The poor wee Island hung his head in shame. 
 The children felt badly to think that their pretty 
 bridge was broken, although there was one who 
 was much delighted at the accident, and that was 
 Disobedience. He laughed till his fat sides ached, 
 and I really don't think he was very much to 
 blame, for the bridge had certainly not treated him 
 well. Geraldine was the only one who suspected 
 what had really happened, and she told her father, 
 what she had seen in the night. He laughed 
 heartily and said : '* That was only a dream, dear 
 little girl." 
 
 But the two Islands, Geraldine, you and I 
 know that it was not a. dream. 
 
THE BOLD BAD BICYCLE. 
 
 THERE was once a Bicycle, who lived in a 
 city, in a big shop with hundreds of other 
 bicycles. He was a happy-hearted little 
 fellow, although, if the truth must be told, somewhat 
 vain of his fine appearance. He had gorgeous 
 silver mountings, the best of rubber tires, and a 
 sweet-toned bell, to warn people that he was com- 
 ing. He was just finished at the time I write, and 
 had been sent to the shop from the manufactory 
 only the night before. The workmen knew when 
 they made him, that he was a very fine machine, 
 light, strong, and perfectly made ift every re- 
 spect, and as he stood there finished before them, 
 bright and shining, they were proud of him. But 
 just how bright he really was, they never sus- 
 pected, for he had not only a strong will of his 
 
 Mi 
 
224 The Bold Bad Bicycle. 
 
 own, but could also reason and think, all of which 
 was quite unusual in a bicycle. 
 
 When he arrived at the big shop, he was 
 delighted, for the others seemed so glad to see 
 him, and welcomed him cordially. They told 
 him about the different machines, and that, in all 
 probability he would soon be sold, and taken 
 by his master to see the big world. They gave 
 him much good advice, telling him to always 
 obey and try to be good, although they confessed 
 that they, take them as a whole, were rather a 
 "fast" lot. 
 
 Well, that very morning, our Bicycle was 
 taken out to be looked at by a gentleman, who 
 wanted to buy one for his son. The proprietor 
 pointed out all his good points, till the little fellow 
 was so delighted with himself that he could not 
 stand alone, but leaned against the wall for sup- 
 port. The gentleman finally said : 
 
 " I am much pleased with this bicycle. My 
 son shall come next week and look at it, and if he 
 likes it, I will buy it." 
 
 Now all this day, and through the night, the 
 
The Bold Bad Bicycle. 225 
 
 Bicycle was thinking, ** I shall see the world ; but, 
 oh, how can I wait till next week ? That man said 
 I was beautiful, — well, he is quite right, I am. I 
 heard him say, too, that the lighter the machine, 
 the greater the speed. Dear me, if that is so, how 
 awfully fast I could go if I had no rider ^ Sud- 
 denly a magnificent thought came to him, a 
 thought that made his nickel-plated heart, cold 
 though it was, beat fast He knew that at five 
 o'clock every morning the janitor opened the big 
 door, while he swept out the place. 
 
 Now, what do you suppose this audacious 
 bicycle planned to do ? Simply this. When the 
 man went to the back part of the shop to get his 
 broom, he would slip off quietly, and see the 
 world, all alone. " No one shall pull my ears and 
 tell me to *go this way, and go that way.' No, I 
 shall go whichever way pleases me." You can 
 imagine, that once having made up his mind to do 
 this thing, he slept but little. He heard the big 
 clock at the corner strike '^ Ihree^ then ''four,'' 
 then '' fiv^y The hour had come, and soon foot- 
 steps were heard, the big door was unlocked, and 
 
2 26 The Bold Bad Bicycle. 
 
 hooked back as usual, and the man went off for 
 his broom. Now was the Bicycle's chance, and 
 silently, swiftly, he glided away. 
 
 Out of the door, across the sidewalk and with 
 a big bu7np down into the street, for being a bright 
 little fellow, he knew, although no one had told 
 him, that the sidewalk was not the proper place for 
 a bicycle. Oh, how happy he was, how free he felt. 
 The street was quite deserted at this early hour, 
 and so no one was astonished at seeing a bicycle 
 whizzing along faster than any bicycle had ever 
 been known to go before, turning to the right or 
 left, as the fancy struck him, and with no rider ! 
 Soon he met a dog, a large St Bernard, stout 
 and dignified, who had lived a long life, and knew 
 much more than he ever told. He glanced at the 
 Bicycle, and then — -then — his two eyes grew as big 
 as saucers and with one agonized howl of terror, 
 he was off. The Bicycle laughed and hurried on. 
 His next encounter was with a sad-looking horse 
 drawing a milk-wagon, who gave one look at him, 
 and then like the dog, ran away, scattering the 
 milk-cans over the road as he went. His master, 
 
The Bold Bad Bicycle. 227 
 
 when he came out of the house, stared in aston- 
 ishment to find him gone. 
 
 " I really did n't know the fellow could run," 
 he said, but then he had n't seen the riderless 
 bicycle. 
 
 On and on sped the machine. He now kept 
 meeting people, and they acted very much as the 
 horse and dog had done, being greatly alarmed 
 at the strange sight. The Bicycle finding that no 
 one could possibly catch him, had a fine time. He 
 would go up slowly till he was quite near some- 
 body, and then, just as he put out his hand to 
 catch him, whizz, he was a block away, leaving 
 the man behind gasping with surprise. People 
 shouted, horses shied, dogs barked, and the police 
 were at their wit's end. Accidents were reported 
 in all parts of the city, from runaway horses who 
 had caught sight of our friend. 
 
 "Arrest that bicycle," demanded the people; 
 '•it is dangerous." 
 
 "Willingly," said the police, "but how? No 
 train, horse, nor bicycle can catch it." 
 
 But fortunately for the city, the Bicycle, after 
 
2 28 The Bold Bad Bicycle. 
 
 a few hours of sport, grew tired of the noise 
 and confusion, and went out into the country. 
 As he went at the rate of five miles a minute, he 
 found himself in about five minutes twenty-five 
 miles away on a lovely wooded country road. 
 There he stopped to rest, for he was tired, "rub- 
 ber tires," you know. Oh, what a glorious morn- 
 ing he had spent. He had laughed so much to 
 see everybody flying from him, and then, when 
 they had tried to catch him, that surely was fun- 
 nier than all. 
 
 While he was laughing again at the remem- 
 brance, two boys came up to him. 
 
 ** I wonder who that stunning machine belongs 
 to," said one. 
 
 '* To somebody who is very careless to leave i 
 here," said the other. 
 
 " Let 's try it, just for a few feet," and the first 
 speaker raised one leg to mount, when, whizz, all 
 they saw of the Bicycle was a small black speck 
 on a hill about two miles off I The boys wen 
 badly frightened, I assure you. 
 
 At last, the Bicycle felt that it was time foi 
 
The Bold Bad Bicycle. 229 
 
 him to go home. Every bicycle, like every dog, 
 must have his day, and he felt that he had had 
 his ; but now, he longed to tell them all at home 
 about his travels. " I must wait till darkness 
 
 comes," he said, "so that I may get into the shop 
 without being seen." So when night came, back 
 he crept, meeting scarcely anyone on the way. 
 When he reached the shop, he found, alas, that it 
 was closed for the night. This possibility he had 
 quite forgotten. Creeping up in the doorway, he 
 
230 The Bold Bad Bicycle. 
 
 leaned sadly against the wall, when suddenly he 
 caught sight of a notice nailed against the door, 
 and looking at it more closely read : ** Stolen 
 from this shop," and then followed a description 
 of him. He laughed so heartily at this, that he 
 almost fell down. Then he waited and waited, 
 till at last the big clock at the corner struck 
 ''five,'' when he crept silently round in the half 
 darkness and hid himself in the side doorway till 
 he heard the man unlocking the door. Then, 
 when he went for his broom, back crept the 
 Bicycle and took his old place among the others, 
 who welcomed him with shouts of glee. He told 
 them of his adventures, and oh, how they laughed. 
 
 ** The proprietor was very angry when he found 
 that you were gone," they said. " He thought, 
 of course, someone must have stolen you, and oh, 
 how surprised he will be when he comes in this 
 morning, and finds you here." 
 
 And indeed he was. He came in soon after 
 with a friend, and the bicycles heard him say : 
 
 "Yes, 't was a very bold thing to do. The 
 thief must have walked in through the door and 
 
The Bold Bad Bicycle. 231 
 
 taken the bicycle. There was where it stood 
 [pointing], and what ? Do my eyes deceive me ? 
 There is the bicycle, now ! ! Look, look," he 
 said, very much excited, " the thief has actually 
 brought back the machine. It is covered with 
 dust, and whoever stole it must have ridden a 
 long distance." 
 
 " Indeed he did," shouted all the bicycles, 
 laughing heartily, but the proprietor did not notice 
 them. 
 
 '' I will find the thief who took that bicycle," 
 said he, "if it takes me years to do it"; but 
 although he made every effort, he never did find 
 him, for beside the bicycles, you and I are the 
 only ones who know who the real thief was, and 
 we will never tell, will we ? 
 
THE LADY OF SNOW. 
 
 ONE day, the poor bare, brown earth awoke 
 and looked sadly up into the sky. The 
 green grass, the pretty, bright flowers, 
 and tender leaves had left him long ago, and he 
 knew he was no longer beautiful. The sky saw 
 this, and moved by pity, threw over him a soft, 
 white mantle. First she sent down a few feathery 
 stars. Then, well pleased at the effect, more and 
 more, and faster and faster they came, till the 
 trees, the bare fields, and houses were hidden by 
 the pure, white covering, till surely no one could 
 have suspected the hard ugliness beneath. At 
 last, when all was done, the clouds rested, and 
 the big sun shone out, glad that he had something 
 so beautiful to look upon. 
 
 In one of the houses, a little girl stood at the 
 
 ass 
 
The Lady of Snow. 
 
 233 
 
 window. "Mamma, Mamma," she called, "may 
 I not go out into the beautiful new world?" and 
 Mamma consenting, out she went, first putting on 
 her thick coat and hood and big rubber boots. 
 
 "Now," said Eleanor, "I will make a snow- 
 man. No, I don't think I will make a snow-man. 
 Every one does that. I will make a snow-woman^ 
 
 So the little maid rolled up the soft, damp 
 snow into a huge ball, gently sloping it at the 
 back for the graceful sweep of the long train. On 
 this another ball was placed for the body, and on 
 this again a third, smaller one, for the well shaped 
 
234 Th^ Lady of Snow. 
 
 head. Then Eleanor running to the house, re- 
 turned with a handful of cranberries. Two were 
 pressed firmly into the head for eyes. A third she 
 squeezed hard, rubbing the red juice on the firm 
 white cheeks, which blushed astonishingly beneath 
 her touch. Four cranberries placed side by side 
 made the soft red mouth of this wonderful snow- 
 lady, and then I wish you could have seen 
 her. Eleanor again ran to the house, and got a 
 summer gardening hat, and an old red shawl, 
 which shawl had long been regarded as the cat's 
 undisputed property — but the poor lady's need 
 was great. The straw hat was placed on her 
 head, and the faded green strings tied under her 
 chin, and the little girl smiled, well pleased at the 
 fiery, blushing face before her. Perhaps the lady 
 had reason to blush, for as yet, poor thing, she was 
 entirely unclothed. But Eleanor quickly remedied 
 that by folding the warm shawl tenderly about the 
 slender figure, crossing and pinning it in front. 
 Just as she did this, a gentle voice said : 
 
 "Thank you, dear." She turned but saw no 
 one. 
 
The Lady of Snow. 235 
 
 Again the voice said: "Thank you for the 
 shawl," and then the child started back in astonish- 
 ment, for the words had come from the cranberry 
 lips of the Snow-Lady. 
 
 ''Why, Lady, Lady," she stammered when 
 she was able to speak at all, " I never knew before 
 that snow-people could speak." 
 
 " Snow-men can't," said the Lady, " and 't is 
 snow-men that children usually make, but you, 
 little girl, have made a snow-woman, and women 
 always talk more than men." 
 
 •'Why, yes," said Eleanor, "I have often 
 heard my Papa say that." 
 
 She was delighted with her new friend and 
 spent the entire day with her. It had grown 
 warmer, and the heat seemed to affect the Snow- 
 Lady, for as the day wore on, she became greatly 
 depressed. When at last night came, and Mamma 
 called her to come in, Eleanor put her arms about 
 the Lady and kissed her affectionately on her red lips. 
 
 "Good-night, I will come to you to-morrow," 
 she whispered, but the Lady gave her a tender, 
 melting look, and said sadly : 
 
236 The Lady of Snow. 
 
 "You have been very kind to me, dear little 
 girl. Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye." 
 
 Eleanor running back, gave her one more kiss, 
 and turning at the door, saw the Snow-Lady's face, 
 now so sad, still looking at her. 
 
 " No wonder she feels badly to be left alone 
 through the long night," thought Eleanor, "but I 
 will go to her the very first thing to-morrow." 
 With this thought she fell asleep. And as she 
 slept, a gentle "pat-pat-pattering" was heard out- 
 side, which continued all through the night, and 
 in the morning when Eleanor looked from her 
 little window, there was the bare brown earth 
 again, — the beautiful snow was gone. 
 
 "My Lady, my dear Snow-Lady," she cried, 
 and dressing quickly she hurried out to her. But 
 alas, when she reached the spot there lay in a sad 
 little heap only the old red shawl, and on it the 
 green trimmed straw bonnet. And Eleanor felt as 
 if the whole beautiful, white world of yesterday 
 and the lovely Lady of Snow, who had looked so 
 sadly at her, had been but a dream. 
 
HOW THE ANDIRONS TOOK A WALK. 
 
 IN a big open fireplace, polished and clean, 
 A glorious, rollicking fire was seen, 
 But its Andirons, standing erect, tall and 
 stiff. 
 Were wondering — wondering — wondering if — — 
 
 **Twere better to stay there, supporting that wood, 
 For that's what they did, as good andirons should, 
 Or go into the garden, and jump all about, 
 And canter and gallop, and caper and shout? 
 
 And one said, **/, now, am for running away, 
 I think it outrageous, that we two must stay 
 Standing perfectly quiet, as if on the rack. 
 While this merciless fire is burning our back," 
 
 «37 
 
238 How the Andirons Took a Walk. 
 
 ''That's so," said the other, "it does not seem 
 
 right 
 That we with our polish, I know we are bright, 
 Are never invited to houses about, 
 While even the fire's allowed to go out I " 
 
 "Then let us go, now," said these bold brassy 
 
 brothers, 
 "We will take for ourselves, what is given to 
 
 others. 
 We'll go for a holiday, hip, hip, hurrah ! 
 Good-bye, Mr. Bellows, we 're not going far." 
 
 "We '11 go by the big chair," said one, '*to the 
 
 hall, 
 And keep close together, so neither can fall." 
 " Of course," said the other, " together we '11 stay, 
 But I'll be the leader, and show you the way. 
 
 " First over the fender, and round by that stool—" 
 Interrupted the other ; " I think you 're a fool 
 
240 How the Andirons Took a Walk. 
 
 To suppose for one moment that I 'm such a 
 tender, 
 
 As to try with three legs to jump over that fen- 
 der." 
 
 "Of the sense in your brass knob I 've long been 
 
 in doubt, 
 If we don't jump that fender, how shall we get 
 
 out?" 
 " Why, kick it down, addlepate, that is the way." 
 ** ' Addlepate, addlepate,' what 's that you say ? " J 
 
 " You can kick it yourself then, I 'm not such an 
 
 ass. 
 As to wear out my poor legs, a-kickin' of brass." 
 " You 're a stupid, cantankerous, obstinate chump 
 If you won't kick that fender, and I '11 never 
 
 jump." 
 
 " Hush, hush," said the Bellows and Shovel and 
 
 Tongs, 
 "Just stay in the fireplace, and settle your wrongs, 
 
How the Andirons Took a Walk. 241 
 
 Stand under the embers, and finish your talk, 
 You 're both much too heated to go for a walk." 
 
 **0h, yes," said the Poker, '''tis much better taste 
 For each of us brethren to stay where he 's 
 
 placed." 
 "Very well," said the Andirons, and each hung his 
 
 head, 
 And in the hot ashes, they both went to bed. 
 
"ACHUSETTS'S RIDE TO PHILA- 
 DELPHIA." 
 
 ONE time a letter was put into the box^ 
 directed to — 
 
 Miss Margaret Van Duff, 
 Salem, 
 
 Massachusetts. 
 It was sent by a little girl to her cousin, and 
 contained a pretty Christmas card. Unfortu- 
 nately, in directing it, Gladys put the achusetts 
 so very near the edge of the envelope, that when 
 the letter was dropped into the box " Achusetts " 
 
" Achusetts's Ride to Philadelphia." 243 
 
 fell off. He was n't hurt in the least, for he fell 
 on a round soft newspaper. Stopping a moment 
 to hear the news, he hopped nimbly down on to a 
 thin foreign-looking letter. 
 ? "Where are you going?" said Achusetts. 
 
 "To Germany," was the answer, proudly 
 given. 
 
 "Then, upon my word, I think I will join you," 
 said Achusetts, "and I am very glad that I hap- 
 pened to meet you." 
 
 "The pleasure is mutual," said the German 
 letter, politely, "but as to taking you with me to 
 Germany, that I cannot do. I am sorry, but you 
 see, it costs a great deal of money to go there. 
 My poor master had to give five cents to pay my 
 passage over, and it would be a great imposition, 
 if you were to join me." 
 
 Achusetts, although disappointed, saw the force 
 of this reasoning, and wishing the traveller a pleas- 
 ant voyage, left him. Achusetts had never been 
 in a letter-box before, and found much to interest 
 him. New letters kept dropping in, through the 
 one door, and as they all talked at once, it soon 
 
244 " Achusetts's Ride to Philadelphia." 
 
 seemed very much like an afternoon tea. One 
 letter was crying bitterly. 
 
 ''Whatisthe matter with her?" asked little 
 Achusetts, of a very dirty letter, who was sitting 
 near. 
 
 " Going to the dead-letter office ; they forgot 
 to put on the stamp," was the answer. 
 
 ''Oh," said Achusetts pityingly, for among 
 letters it is considered a terrible disgrace to be 
 sent to the dead-letter office. 
 
 Just then, someone said : " It is time for the 
 postman to come." 
 
 "Oh," said Achusetts frightened, "then I 
 must hurry back to my own letter." 
 
 But do you know, although he searched every- 
 where, the poor little fellow could not find his 
 letter. The box was very dark, and filled almost 
 to the top. The postman now appeared, and took 
 out all the letters, leaving poor Achusetts behind, 
 in spite of his piteous cries to be allowed to 
 go with the others. The box was then locked, 
 and he was alone. His sobs and cries echoed 
 through the lonely iron house. Suddenly, 
 
** Achusetts's Ride to Philadelphia." 245 
 
 "click," a New York letter was dropped in. 
 She was very kind and sympathetic with Achu- 
 setts, when she heard his story, but was powerless 
 to help. 
 
 "But don't cry," she said, " many letters are 
 dropped in here with only * Mass' on them, and 
 there will be your chance." 
 
 "Click," and at that very moment another 
 letter was dropped in. She was a gorgeous 
 creature, dressed in pale violet, and with a beau- 
 tiful violet wax buckle at her back. She was 
 addressed to — 
 
 Miss Violet Blueblood, 
 
 2000 Beacon St., 
 
 Boston, Mass. 
 
 But alas, this address took up so much of the en- 
 velope, that there proved to be no room for poor 
 little Achusetts. And letter after letter was 
 dropped in, and still there seemed to be no chance 
 for him. Again the time came for the postman, 
 they heard his key in the lock, when suddenly 
 Achusetts caught sight of a letter lying near ad- 
 
246 ** Achusetts's Ride to Philadelphia." 
 
 dressed to " Philadelphia, Penn." It was very 
 dark in the letter-box, and poor Achusetts's eyes 
 were swollen with crying, so he mistook the Penn 
 for Mass. 
 
 "That is where I belong," he thought, "right 
 up near the Mass, and there is plenty of room for 
 me, too. But I am not going to ask this letter 
 to let me get on, because I have been refused so 
 many times. 
 
 So just as the postman slid the letters out, 
 Achusetts scrambled quickly on the envelope, and 
 threw his arms tightly about Penn till he was 
 firmly stuck. Penn struggled wildly to escape, 
 but in vain. When they got out into the light, 
 what was Achusetts's horror to find that he had 
 fastened himself on to a Penn instead of a Mass^ 
 But the mischief was done ; they could not sepa- 
 rate, although they were very much afraid that 
 Achusetts's unfortunate blunder would send them 
 to the dead-letter office. But the letter did, after 
 all, reach its destination, although little Robert 
 Richardson was very much surprised, and laughed 
 heartily to get a letter addressed to him at — 
 
"Achusetts's Ride to Philadelphia." 247 
 
 2001 Chestnut Street, 
 Philadelphia, 
 
 Pennachusetts. 
 
 As for the other letter on which Achusetts 
 belonged, and from which he fell, that, too, 
 reached in safety Margaret Van Duff at 
 
 Salem, 
 
 Mass 
 
 Still, you can see how important it is, chil- 
 dren, to direct your envelopes very carefully, or 
 part, or possibly the whole, of the address may 
 tumble off and the letters never reach the people 
 for whom they are intended. 
 
THE MOUSE'S REVENGE. 
 
 A Tragedy. 
 
 THERE was once a Mouse, who lived up in 
 the tall steeple of a church. It was really 
 a pleasant place to live in for many rea- 
 sons. It was quiet, the air was good, the view 
 very beautiful, and there were no cats there. In 
 fact, only one thing troubled the Mouse, and as 
 he grew older, it troubled him more and more. 
 And that was the Bell, a big, sullen-looking iron 
 Bell, which hung in the tower. It was rung every 
 night at nine, and the noise it made was dread- 
 ful. The Mouse talked to the Bell again and 
 again, and told him rudely to "hold his tongue," 
 but it was of no use. Each night, just as he had 
 sunk into his first doze, "clang, clang" would go 
 the Bell. " Nine o clock, nine o'clock," it seemed 
 
The Mouse's Revenge. 249 
 
 to say, and the poor Mouse would wake up, 
 shivering with terror. 
 
 "Suppose it is nine o'clock," he would sob; 
 "you can't prevent its being nine o'clock, and 
 what are you going to do about it?" But it had 
 a heart of iron and was not touched. 
 
 One evening, the Mouse climbed directly on 
 the Bell itself, and sat there admiring the sunset. 
 He became drowsy, and quite forgetting where he 
 was, fell fast asleep. He was awakened by a 
 most horrible noise. He felt the ground, as he 
 thought, rock beneath him. Suddenly he remem- 
 bered where he was, that it was nine o'clock, and 
 that the Bell was beginning its nightly duty ! 
 
 "Clang, clang," it said. 
 
 The poor Mouse jumped frantically from one 
 side to the other, and screamed : 
 
 "Stop, stop, let me get off!" but it did not 
 stop, and, at last, becoming dizzy, he staggered — 
 lost his footing — and fell! 
 
 Down, down, down he went, striking on the 
 stone floor of the tower, many feet below. He 
 was not killed, but he was much bruised. All 
 
250 The Mouse's Revenge. 
 
 through the long night he lay there, and got up 
 the next morning, feeling stiff and miserable, and 
 very, very angry. 
 
 " I will punish that wicked bell," he said. " I 
 can't bite him, that I know, for I tried to once and 
 could n't. His skin is fearfuly tough. I wish he 
 would fall, just as I did, the heartless monster," 
 he sobbed. 
 
 But suddenly his sobs ceased, and his eyes 
 brightened, for an idea had come to him. The 
 
 Bell, of course, he could 
 not bite, but how about 
 that rope above it and on 
 which it hung? *' If I 
 gnaw through that, the 
 
 Bell will fall hurrah," 
 
 he squealed, and at once 
 began his work. ' * Gnaw, 
 gnaw, gnaw," went the 
 sharp little teeth, and be- 
 fore long, a tiny strand 
 snapped. He stopped for 
 a moment and laughed. 
 
The Mouse's Revenge. 251 
 
 **Stop gnawing, you small wretch," roared the 
 Bell. " I will punish you." 
 
 "Oh, no, you can't hurt me," said the Mouse, 
 and the Bell, feeling that this was so, trembled with 
 rage, knowing that he was powerless, although 
 big and strong, and with a tongue mightier than 
 any pen. 
 
 ** You can't even speak till nine o'clock to- 
 night," said the Mouse, "and it shall be my pleas- 
 ing duty to see that even then you remain silent," 
 and he chuckled in great glee. Then he began 
 again, "gnaw, gnaw, gnaw." Snap, went another 
 strand, and before very long the rope gave way 
 entirely, and down went the big Bell with a tre- 
 mendous crash that seemed to shake the very 
 building ! 
 
 But, oh, little Mouse, poor little Mouse, how 
 did it happen ? With it, he fell too ! He had 
 been sitting on the Bell, you know, and had 
 gnawed the rope above his head. When that 
 broke, down came the Bell, and he being on it, 
 had to come too. When some men, hearing the 
 crash, rushed up the stairs, to see what had hap- 
 
252 The Mouse's Revenue. 
 
 pened, they found the Bell on the stone floor. 
 broken in many pieces, while under it lay the poor 
 Mouse, quite, quite dead. 
 
 You see, we can never injure others without 
 danger of injuring ourselves. 
 
THE TAIL OF A MOUSE. 
 
 ONCE upon a time a wee Mouse crept from 
 his hole, and, crossing the room, suddenly- 
 appeared upon my writing table. I like 
 mice, and he may have known it. Anyway, there 
 he sat, winking his beady little eyes roguishly at 
 me. I knew that mice often have very thrilling 
 experiences, forcing their way without invitation or 
 encouragement into the houses of the rich and 
 poor alike, and going from attic to cellar, from 
 boudoir to butler's pantry, and I thought, ** Now, 
 perhaps this little fellow will tell me the story of 
 his life, that I may again tell it to my children." 
 So I said, very politely : 
 
 " Most beautiful Mouse, will you not kindly tell 
 me the tale of your life ? " 
 
 *'Well," said the Mouse, very indignantly, "if 
 
 353 
 
254 
 
 The Tail of a Mouse. 
 
 you cannot see my tail, my beautiful tail, yourself, 
 from the beginning to the end, I think you must be 
 stupid, and I really cannot waste my valuable time 
 in talking with you." 
 
 So away he went, and as he took his tail with 
 him, I am very sorry to say that I am unable to 
 tell it to you.