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CINDERELLA AND THE GLASS SLIPPER. 
 
THZ 
 
 Cl WDBRBLLA 
 
 QT tqe Hiftofy q? \ 
 
 WKK 
 
 Newly illu^tr&toR hy 
 
 Copyright. 1905. by A. E. Wilcox 
 
 Chicago 
 
 HOMEWOOD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
*Cinde:$eddh-s- 
 
 NCE upon a time there lived 
 upon the borders of fairy-land 
 a gentleman and his wife who 
 had an only child, a little 
 daughter. When the baby 
 was christened, as the lady was a great 
 favourite with the fairies, a powerful fairy be- 
 came its God-mother. Poor little Ella (for 
 this was the name they gave her) was soon 
 left without a mother, but her father, a year 
 or two after his wife's death, thinking he 
 could not take proper care of his motherless 
 child, married again. His second wife 
 was a widow with two grown-up daughters, 
 and they, being proud and selfish, and 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 jealous of their young and beautiful step- 
 sister, because everybody loved her, made 
 matters very unpleasant for her. They gave 
 poor Ella no nice clothes, nor toys, nor 
 books, but, as she grew older, made her do 
 the work of a servant for them ; and because 
 when tired out she would sit in the chimney 
 corner amongst the cinders these cruel 
 sisters nick-named her Cinderella. Her 
 father now seemed to take little or no notice 
 of her, and she felt as if she had not a friend 
 in the world. While her step-sisters were 
 richly dressed, and went to balls and parties, 
 poor Cinderella was kept out of sight and 
 ordered to sweep the rooms, clean the grates, 
 or wash the dishes, and was seldom allowed 
 to go out to enjoy herself; Now one evening 
 when Cinderella was grown up, though still 
 very young, an invitation came for a grand 
 party to be given in honour of the Prince's 
 birthday ; so, of course, 
 
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 WX3 
 
 ell.lesL W her ?i?tex$ 
 
 for the feaj( &£ t^ e paJ^ee 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 Whilst brushing their hair and helping 
 them to dress, the poor girl could not help 
 saying, " I wish I were going too ; " but her 
 step-sisters laughed at the idea of a scullery 
 maid, as they called her, going to a royal ball. 
 Cinderella bore these cruel words patiently 
 until after they were gone, when she sat down 
 by the kitchen fire and cried bitterly. Just 
 as she was thinking of her dear kind mamma 
 who used to love her, she was surprised and 
 a little alarmed to hear a voice close beside 
 her say, " Do not cry, Cinderella ; I am come 
 to help you." Suddenly looking up, she saw 
 an old lady with a magic wand standing near 
 her. 
 
 ' Cinderella," said her visitor, " I am your 
 fairy God-mother, and I mean you to go to 
 the ball to-night ; obey me, and all will be 
 well. Just run into the garden and find me 
 a pumpkin." As it was a fine moonlight 
 night Cinderella soon found a large one, with 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 which she hastened back. The fairy touched 
 it with her magic wand, and it instantly 
 turned into a grand coach. 
 
 " Now," said she, 'go and find me six 
 mice." The trap happened to contain just 
 that number, and, alter a touch with the 
 wand, the six mice at once became six fine 
 spirited cream-coloured horses. 
 
 " Now," said the iairy, ' look in the rat- 
 trap, and bring me a rat." The astonished 
 girl ran to the barn, and soon returned with a 
 fine one. A touch of the wand changed 
 this into a fat coachman m ororgeous livery. 
 
 " Now," said the lain - God-mother, " look 
 behind the watering pot in the garden, and 
 you will find two lizards." These, being 
 brought, changed at a touch into two tall 
 footmen, also in rich liveries, who mounted 
 behind the carnage. Her coach beino - now 
 drawn up the door, (See the frontispiece) 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 Cinderella was next touched with the magic 
 wand, and her working clothes instantly 
 became a splendid ball dress ; while her worn 
 shoes turned into a beautiful pair of glass 
 slippers. 
 
 " Now," said the fairy, " go to the palace 
 and enjoy yourself; but be sure you leave 
 the ball before the clock strikes twelve. If 
 you disobey me your fine dress will become a 
 ragged one again ; your coach will again be- 
 come a pumpkin ; your coachman a rat ; your 
 footmen lizards ; and your horses mice." 
 
 Cinderella gratefully thanked her God- 
 mother, promised obedience, and, stepping 
 into her carriage, drove off in high glee to the 
 palace. When her splendid coach dashed 
 up to the palace gates the attendants thought 
 it must be some great foreign Princess who 
 had arrived ; therefore, receiving a special 
 message, 
 
|iM, Zsord ||WfoerW 
 
 ' — t° the J^ll-roOTR. 
 
 SHEwBb? 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 Feeling just a little shy, but very happy, 
 Cinderella passed up the grand staircase ; 
 through the state chambers, adorned with 
 lovely statuary, splendid mirrors, costly pic- 
 tures, and tropical plants of rare grace and 
 beauty; until at length she found herself 
 pacing the polished floor of the gilded ball- 
 room. Her appearance at once caused a 
 flutter of curiosity amongst the brilliant 
 assemblage. Every one wondered who this 
 fair young stranger could be. Even amid 
 this dazzling scene her wonderful beauty, 
 and the richness of her dress, made her the 
 observed of all observers. Cinderella had 
 not been many minutes in the room before 
 she saw her two cross sisters, who had 
 of course arrived a little earlier ; but they 
 did not know her in her fine dress. 
 Like all the other guests they regarded her 
 as some strange beautiful princess who 
 had come in state to the ball. 
 
 As soon as he became aware of her presence, 
 
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 ©faAerell* 
 
 to (iL^rzee . 
 
 wit)? 
 
 T?ITT7, 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 and would afterwards have no other partner. 
 Remembering what the fairy had told her, Cin- 
 derella had resolved not to stay for supper, but 
 managed to slip away just as the clock was striking 
 half-past eleven. She found her coach waiting at 
 the gate. When her sisters returned, she was 
 sitting in her usual place, and in her working 
 dress. They told her that a charming young 
 Princess had come in state to the Ball, and had 
 disappeared no one knew when ; and how annoyed 
 the Prince was, and anxious to find out who she was. 
 
 Another ball was to be given, with the hope that 
 the lovely stranger would go to that also. 
 
 The next time Cinderella dressed her sisters for 
 the royal ball she was in good spirits, for she knew 
 that she would go too. And so it happened. The 
 fairy again appeared, and sent her God-daughter as 
 before ; at the same time praising her obedience 
 and saying, "Mind you leave before twelve to-night 
 also." Again the Prince would scarcely leave her 
 side, and, as she was becoming a little spoiled by 
 all this admiration and flattery, she began to think 
 more of herself, and less of the promise to the fairy. 
 
till, glaring up% eloek^e ?^ ^ in 5 ™**te9 
 
 tfoula$CriteW . S^tlea 
 
 toeyai?d meagre, 
 ?e a^rteil from ffc tooth, 
 
 l Ana, 
 
 
 || )©*£$ 
 
 irzs 
 
 through 
 
 little gl&£3 ?lipperj5 ta her b^t^ jli|Kt. 
 
 237 B 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 At that moment the clock struck twelve ; 
 and, as the last stroke rang out on the clear 
 night air, she found herself again in her 
 working dress ; and, rushing out into the 
 moonlight, she was just in time to see her 
 coach roll away as a pumpkin, the rat and 
 mice run squeaking away, followed by the 
 lizards, and she had to return home alone 
 and on foot. As soon as the Prince found 
 out she was gone, he sent down to ask the 
 guards if they had seen the beautiful Princess 
 leave ; but they assured him that no one 
 had passed out of the palace, but a poor girl 
 who looked more like a beggar than a 
 Princess. 
 
 Then the Prince himself began to search 
 for her ; and at last, on the grand staircase, 
 he found the brilliant little glass slipper 
 which he knew the Princess had worn. 
 
e next sl&y 
 
 pent out Ker2kl% 
 t° pfoel&im, jay ^oarceL 
 of trumpet tk&t 
 
 joot ex&stty pitted 
 
 trie ti^ygi^ glider 
 r? e Kail jkxneL on t)z e $t&\t<z^ a 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 " Lor,'' said he, " no other lady has such 
 a little foot ; only my Princess could put 
 it on. ' 
 
 When the sisters came home they of course 
 told Cinderella this strange story of the 
 Princess's second disappearance, and also 
 that it was reported that the Prince loved 
 her so much that he declared he would 
 never marry any one else. 
 
 The proclamation caused much stir in the 
 province. 
 
 Oi course the ladies of the court circle 
 all hastened to the palace to try the slipper 
 on, but without success ; then the ladies 
 from the counties tried, but they could not 
 put it on ; next the ladies from the towns 
 tried, but it was of no use. After many 
 amusing attempts they all had to give it 
 up. 
 
fte turn 
 
 o| # erof 3 9 
 
 i^ler^ 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 But, in spite of all their efforts to get a foot 
 into it, to the intense amusement ol the 
 attendants, and to their own disappointment, 
 it was of course absurdly too small lor them. 
 When all attempts to find the owner seemed 
 fruitless, at the Prince's request, the enquiry 
 was made, "Is there anyone else amongst 
 those present who would like to try?" In the 
 crowd of bystanders who had obtained 
 admission to the palace to watch the trial 
 was Cinderella. Modestly stepping forward, 
 she begged permission to try her fortune. 
 Her sisters laughed, and ridiculed the idea of 
 Cinderella being able to wear the slipper of a 
 beautiful Princess; but the Prince, who seemed 
 to think her eyes were familiar to him, 
 laughingly said, " Oh ! let her try, and Cinder- 
 ella took her place in the chair for her trial. 
 
 v., 
 
 i 
 
Re e^'ny gliffeM. her liny 
 foot mto it, 
 &rc<R, putting herh^uR 
 into her packet, 
 areiA?out pother 
 
 vjkich ?Ke aJ^o p^i: or. 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 The surprise and annoyance of her step- 
 sisters may be imagined. After joyfully 
 exclaiming, " This must be my Princess," the 
 Prince desired the young girl to explain her 
 present disguise ; and Cinderella told him her 
 story simply and prettily. As she ceased 
 speaking the fairy suddenly appeared, and 
 saying, "My Prince, this fair girl is worthy 
 of your love," put Cinderella's hand in his, 
 and with a touch of her wand she was again 
 slothed in her enchanted garments. The 
 Prince reproached Cinderella's father with his 
 gross neglect of his child, and would have had 
 the cruel sisters severely punished had not 
 Cinderella begged that they might be for- 
 given. As they begged her pardon for their 
 past cruelty, the sweet young girl treated them 
 so kindly that they were made to feel quite 
 ashamed of their past conduct. 
 
 The Prince insisted upon Cinderella at 
 once becoming his bride, and his father and 
 mother — the King- and Oueen — were glad to 
 receive a new daughter who had so kind and 
 powerful a friend as the fairy God-mother. 
 
o they 
 
 Were married. 
 %n 3. 
 
 Were 
 
 v/ery r?^ppy 
 
CINDERELLA. 
 
 It was a grand wedding-, and everybody 
 was pleased ; for the poor as well as the rich 
 had o"ood reason to remember that daw The 
 
 O J 
 
 people said, "Our Princess will always feel for 
 the poor ; for she knows what work, and 
 sorrow, and trials are." And so it proved. 
 
 Her husband loved her very much ; and, 
 in memory of her surprising story, kept 
 amongst the crown jewels her brilliant little 
 glass slipper. 
 
THE CHILDREN'S QUEER CHURNING. 
 
 The churn stood under the apple-tree, behind the farm-house. 
 
 It was shady there, and, as the churn had a handle at 
 each end, it needed twice as much shade as a one-handled churn. 
 
 Hattie and Esther Somers were briskly at work turning the 
 handles. They were boarding', with their mother, at Mr. Hale's 
 farm-house. 
 
 " B'r, B'r, B'r," went the churn, and the laughter of the little 
 girls mingled with it and made a pretty song. 
 
 "Isn't it funny?" cried Hattie, and both laughed harder than 
 ever. 
 
 You wouldn't think there was anything funny about a churn, 
 if you had to make the butter. What could it be that so pleased 
 the children ? 
 
 Two blue-jays flew into the apple-tree and screamed with glee- 
 Indeed it was a pretty sight, — Hattie and Esther whirling those 
 handles around. 
 
 "Why, children, what are you doing ? " cried Mamma Somers, 
 coming from the house. This made the little girls laugh again. 
 
 " I guess it's most done now," replied Esther. 
 
 "What is most done?" asked Mrs. Somers. 
 
 " Let's look and see," said Hattie. She opened the lid of the 
 churn. Both the girls were in quite a flutter. There was some- 
 thing strange about it. 
 
 The children peeped into the churn. 
 
 " Why, it's the same one ; the others haven't come ! " cried 
 Hattie, and both looked disappointed. 
 
 A yellow butterfly came creeping out of the churn, and flew away. 
 
 " Tommy Dodd told a fib, I do believe," said Esther, sadly. 
 
 "What is it, my dears?" asked Mamma Somers. 
 
 "Why, he was churning, and he told us he was making but- 
 terflies," replied Hattie. 
 
THE CHILDREN'S SHEER CHURNING. 
 
 "Yes; and so we thought we'd try to make some." 
 
 The children looked as if they were ready to cry; but for all 
 
 
 
 that their mother sat down on the 
 woodpile and laughed till she really 
 cried. 
 
 "Tommy must have told you 
 he was making the butter fly, I 
 think," she said at last, wiping her 
 eyes. " Real butterflies are not 
 made in a churn. They come from 
 a chrysalis." 
 
 " A what ? " cried both children. 
 "Yes, it's a hard word; but this 
 afternoon we will hunt after one." 
 They found a fine chrysalis 
 before night. But the whole family 
 had a great laugh over the chil 
 dren's churning. 
 
THE CHILDREN'S QL'EER CHURNING. 
 
THE MAIL-CARRIER AxND THE SQUIRREL. 
 
 In the State of Maine there lives a man who is very fond of 
 dumb animals. His - business was to take the mail from the 
 station to the post-office, in the centre of the town. To reach the 
 station he had to cross a river in a small boat, and then walk 
 along on the shore a long distance. 
 
 One day, as he was walking along, he saw a little squirrel 
 running beside the way. On returning home he thought of the 
 squirrel and put a handful of corn into his pocket. The next day, 
 on coming to the place, he saw the squirrel again. Without 
 appearing to notice it he scattered the corn along. 
 
 The squirrel was shy at first, and kept some distance away, 
 but as the mail-carrier passed on he had the pleasure of seeing 
 her pick up the corn. 
 
 The kind man repeated this each day. The squirrel would 
 venture a little nearer each time, until she became so tame that 
 she would run up on his clothes and perch on his shoulder, 
 when he would stop and hold open his pocket, and she would 
 jump into it and eat the corn there. 
 
THE MAIL-CARRIER A. YD THE SQUIRREL. 
 
 She had a nest in a hollow tree, where rested three pretty 
 baby squirrels. After a while she took them to meet the kind 
 
 man with her. He fed them all, with much pleasure, for several 
 weeks; then he was called away, and another man took his 
 place. He was very sorry to leave the squirrels, they had beeu 
 such good friends for many months. 
 
 
Little Maizie Popcorn, dressed in fleecy white, 
 Danced on the cottage hearth, in the firelight ; 
 Tripping, skipping, whirling, — what a merry sight! 
 
 Silly Maizie Popcorn, — vainer none could be. — 
 Holding out her skirts, cried, " Where is one like me ? ' 
 Then came a troop of them just as fine as she. 
 
 237 s c 
 
THE STORY OF MAIZIE POPCORN. 
 
 Yes ; a, whole assembly, ready to begin, 
 Scalloped to each dainty foot, ruffled to the chin, 
 Courtesied in Paris style ; now away they spin. 
 
 All the hearth a dancing-floor ; every maid a belle ; 
 Joyful every one to see how her mates excel ; 
 While a waltz, the fire played, gently rose and fell. 
 
 Jealous Maizie Popcorn, sulking, drew aside, 
 Would not dance another step, in her foolish pride. 
 "Mixed society," she said, "she could not abide." 
 
 Angry little Popcorn stood too near the blaze, 
 
 Did not see how brown she grew, lived out all her days, 
 
 Turned to flame an instant; passed away in haze: 
 
 Vanished from that happy hearth — and the fire hissed ; 
 In that melancholy way ceasing to exist; 
 Naughty, punished Popcorn, hardly was she missed. 
 
 LAVXNIA S. GOODWIK, 
 
THE SLEEPY GIANT. 
 
 Belle and Cora were getting sleepy; but their mamma did not 
 wish to have them retire until their usual bedtime. She gave them 
 a picture-book ; but they soon got tired of it, and their heads began 
 to droop. 
 
 Their papa was sitting in his easy-chair, reading a newspaper. 
 As he glanced across the table and saw the sleepy look on his little 
 girls' faces, he thought he must do something to drive it away. He 
 laid aside his papers and called them to him, saying : — 
 
 " Let us play for a few minutes." Belle and Cora were wide 
 awake in a moment. " I will be a cross old giant, and fall asleep in 
 my chair. If any little girl disturbs me she must be careful to keep 
 out of my reach, unless she wishes to be shut up in my castle." 
 
 He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Both little girls 
 crept up and touched him on the hand. He seemed fast asleep. Then 
 they shook him a little, and, standing on tiptoe, touched his cheek. 
 
 All at once his eyes opened, and he sprang at them ; but they 
 were too quick for him, and ran off laughing. Then the old giant 
 
LILTS GARDEN. 
 
 scolded away, to the amusement of his little disturbers, who felt sure 
 that they would not get caught. 
 
 Soon he was asleep again, and the little girls crept softly to 
 awaken him. But this time they were caught. He must have been 
 sleeping with one corner of his eye open ; for, as the little girls came 
 creeping up, he sprang and caught them both, and held them fast. 
 
 He then told them of the dungeon in his castle, and asked how 
 they would feel when they got there. But they did not seem at all 
 frightened, and before long bought their liberty with a kiss. 
 
 Mamma then came and took them off to bed, feeling happy, if 
 not sleepy. 
 
 : was only a little piece of garden 
 
 to Lily's home in the city. In 
 
 t spring days she went out there, 
 
 and watched to see if any flowers came up. 
 
 She felt happy when she found the first 
 
 blades of grass. 
 
 The poet sings that " his heart dances with the daffodils." Lily's 
 heart danced, one morning, when she found a dandelion among the 
 grasses in her yard, — a real yellow dandelion, with all its golden 
 petals spread out. 
 
 Just then one of her playmates looked over the fence, and put 
 out her hand. 
 
 " Do give it to me," she said. " I shan't like you a bit if you 
 don't. I shall think you are just as stingy " — 
 
 " But it's all I have," said Lily ; " I can't give it away. I can't. 
 Wait till to-morrow, and there'll be some more out. They're grow- 
 ing. There'll be some all round to-morrow or next week." 
 
LILT'S GARDEN. 
 
 "To-morrow! I want it now, to-day," said her friend; "to-day's 
 better than to-morrow." 
 
 Lily looked at the child and then at the dandelion. "I suppose 
 it would be mean to keep it," she said; "but it is so lovely — can't 
 you wait? " 
 
 ^°' 
 
 " Oh, well, keep it, 
 you stingy girl ! " 
 -" Come and pick it yourself, then," said Lily, with tears in 
 rTer, eyes. 
 
 The next day, when Lily went into the yard, there were a dozen 
 golden dandelions, like stars in the grass, and a little blue violet 
 was blooming all alone by itself. 
 
m 
 
 
 
 
 
BETTY B. 
 
 h^/k 
 
 
 €>a^L V^VV- W$Cr 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 
I ■' H . 
 
 BLACKBERRYING. 
 
 Over the fields where blackberries straj, 
 Two little maidens are rambling to-day. 
 
 Black eyes and bine eyes bent to the ground, 
 Searching; each nook whore a berry is found. 
 
 * 
 
 Little brown fingers stained to the tips ; 
 Sweeter than berries the soft rosy lips. 
 
 Gayly they chatter, the wee maidens sweet, 
 Wild rose and daisy beneath the small feet. 
 
 Brown curls and golden almost entwined, 
 As two little maidens one berry must find. 
 
 Under the sunny skies, laugh as you go 
 Over the fields where the blackberries stow. 
 
 LUCY RANDOLPH FLEMING. 
 
LAUGHING AWAY THE RAIN. 
 
 The clouds were dark and heavy, the rain came pattering down, 
 
 And Royal, by the window, gazed out with pout and frown ; 
 
 But, as I looked, all quickly his face grew bright with joy. 
 
 " Mamma says smiles are sunbeams," mused thoughtful little Roy, 
 
 "And, perhaps, if I laugh softly the big drops will not sia}' v 
 
 For sunshine always frightens the naughty rain away ! " 
 
 I smiled to hear my baby, my baby man so wise, 
 
 But, ah ! in that brief moment a wonder filled my eyes, 
 
 For. lo ! a quivering sunbeam stole through the window-pane- 
 
 u Oh ! oh ! " cried Royal, gayly ; " Fve laughed away the rain ! " 
 
 EMMA C. DOW» 
 
CHIPPY TOP-KNOT. 
 
 RS. Biddy Top-Knot had twelve fluffy, downy little 
 chicks. Each one of the twelve had yellow feet and 
 yellow bills, and each one looked so much like the 
 other eleven that you could not tell one from the other. 
 Mother Biddy knew them apart. She took great care of 
 them. In the daytime she scratched and found food for them, 
 
 and at night gathered 
 
 them under her wing. 
 
 ■M 
 
 very good, and only 
 
 trouble. This 
 
 name was 
 
 Biddy's chicks were 
 
 one gave her any 
 
 little chick's 
 
 Chippy. k: "V 
 
 Chippy / ' * _ \ \ did not mean 
 to make his {■'. ,'-' ' ,p^. W0lk u ----- V '■■ mamma un- 
 happy, but w i -." ",_ W^^w ^m^^^ ■ \ he did like 
 to have his s >; := ;-./*'-„ r*5?^X 7 V; ■* '■] own way. 
 When Bid- : %{ | , ~ <x %^^^^^'-^ d y took 
 
 her brood ^ M-bS^^^^^' ■ under the 
 
 fence and ' \ '■ '-"^^^^^S^^^H 3 *^^^- ' ' into the 
 
 road to I V;^;:?[ ja^^gg^y^} $| hunt for 
 
 bugs, Chip- V'. f'<"'% --■'"- !'.--'.-■. : ;'|f / Py was a ^" 
 
 ways sure \wtim^ :: ^©^' to stray 
 
 rom the \»< / , v,,!,,;,;' ! '"' 3^^^^#- others. 
 
 They all f^ffift'i^ J ^J&^T\ li ked to 
 
 run off and WPW||^< J^v^fW^ scratch in 
 
 the dirt; ^1 Fjj 1 ™ / ' but when 
 
 their moth- er called 
 Cluck! cluck! cluck! very fast, how they would scamper, all but 
 
 Chippy! He was never in a hurry. In vain Biddy scolded him. 
 
 She told him that hawks were fond of chickens, and were always 
 ready to pounce upon stray ones ; the safe place was near his 
 mother; stiH he did not heed her. 
 
CHIPPY TOP-KNOT. 
 
 One fine day Mrs. Biddy took her chickens down by the 
 
 brook. There were large stones 
 in it, so they easily crossed to 
 the other side. Then she led 
 them along the bank until 
 they came to a" large field, into 
 which Biddy walked with them 
 to hunt for grasshoppers. But 
 Chippy did not follow. He liked 
 
 
 better to walk in the soft, warm sand 
 by the brook. 
 
 " I don't see what mother is in 
 such a hurry for. I'll just stay here 
 and play a little," said he. " I do like 
 to make tracks in the soft sand. I 
 don't care much for grasshoppers. I'm 
 not afraid of hawks. They could not catch me." 
 
 Chippy ran up and down by the side of the brook and never 
 Dnce thought how far behind his mamma was leaving him. A 
 
BAT-CHARLIE. 
 
 hawk pounced upon him, and would have carried him away to her 
 nest in the old oak-tree had she not been frightened. By some 
 chance Chippy slipped from her claws and fell at the feet of little 
 four-year-old Hetty Sexton, who was picking daisies in the field. 
 Very gently she lifted Chippy, who was both humbled and lamed. 
 She carried him in her apron to show her mamma, — "The dear, 
 little, broken-winged angel chickie, that fell from the sky." 
 
 In his new home Chippy was so kindly cared for that he 
 was soon able to run about and scratch with the other chicks. 
 But he could never fly, for the broken wing was not strong. 
 Chippy, though he never saw his mother again, did not forget 
 the lesson he learned by his disobedience. 
 
 ^±~ 
 
 
 BAY-CHARLIE. 
 
 Grandpa West was a kind old man, and fond of animals. 
 He had a large farm. His horses, cows, and hens were all well 
 cared for, but his special pet was a large bay horse. 
 
 One day there was company to dinner. Bay-Charlie happened to 
 be mentioned at table. Grandpa told two or three stories about him. 
 
 " That horse must be very knowing," said one of the party. 
 " I should like to see him." 
 
 " You shall, sir," answered the old gentleman, pleased with 
 this praise of his favorite. 
 
BA2-CHARLIE. 
 
 When dinner was over, but while the family and guests were 
 still gathered around the table, he excused himself for a few 
 minutes. He returned directly, followed by Bay-Charlie, without 
 halter or bridle, without corn or oats to lure him. His master's 
 voice and beckoning hand were enough for the faithful, loving 
 creature. 
 
 Right up the veranda steps, into the dining-room, he came. 
 
 Around the table he followed the old man, stopping when he 
 stopped. From one visitor's hand he took an apple ; from 
 another's a piece of bread, a pear, a lump of sugar. His beauti- 
 ful eyes were shining, and his ears were quivering with grateful 
 pleasure. 
 
 Then he followed his kind master out again, carefully picking 
 his way down the veranda steps. He went to his green pasture 
 and rippling brook, pleased with his visit 
 
 This is true. 
 
A TURKEY FOR ONE. 
 
 Lura's Uncle Roy is in Japan. He used to take Christmas 
 dinner at Lura's home. Now he only could write her papa to say 
 a box of gifts had been sent, and one was for his little girl. 
 
 1 
 
 ip,,f. ; wpP 
 
 •;1 
 
 The little girl clapped her hands, crying, "O mamma ! don't 
 you think it is the chain and locket dear uncle said he would 
 sometime give me ? " 
 
A TURRET FOR ONE. 
 
 " No," replied her papa, reading on. " Your uncle says it is 
 a turkey for one." 
 
 " But we do not need turkeys from Japan," remarked the 
 2ittle daughter, soberly. 
 
 Her papa smiled and handed the open letter to her mamma. 
 
 "Read it aloud, every bit," begged Lura, seeing her mamma 
 was smiling too. 
 
 But her mamma folded the letter and said nothing. 
 
 On Christmas eve the box, which had just arrived, was 
 opened, and every one. in the house was made glad with a 
 present. Lura's was a papier-mache turkey, nearly as large as the 
 one brought home at the same time by the market-boy. 
 
 Next morning, while the fowl in the kitchen was being 
 roasted, Lura placed hers before a window and watched people 
 aamire it as they pass^- All its imitation feathers, and even 
 
A TURKEY FOR ONE. 
 
 more its red wattles, seemed to wish every man and woman, boy 
 and girl, a Merry Christmas. 
 
 Lura had not spoken of the jewelry since her uncle's letter 
 was read. It is not nice for one who receives a gift to wish it 
 was different. Lura was not that kind of a child. 
 
 When dinner was nearly over, her papa said to her, " My 
 dear, you have had as much of my turkey as you wanted ; if you 
 please, I will now try some of yours." 
 
 " Mine is what Uncle Roy calls a turkey for one," laughed 
 Lura. She turned in her chair towards where her bird had been 
 strutting on the window-sill, and added, in surprise, " Why, what 
 has become of him ? " 
 
 At that moment the servant brought in a huge platter. When 
 room had been made for it on the table it was set down in front 
 of Lura's papa, and on the dish was her turkey. 
 
 "Oh, what fun!" gayly exclaimed the child. "Did uncle tell 
 you to pretend to serve it ? " 
 
 " I have not finished what he directs me to do," her papa 
 said, with a flourish of the carving-knife. 
 
 "But, papa — oh, please!" Her hand was on his arm. "You 
 would not spoil my beautiful bird from Japan ! " 
 
 A hidden spring was touched with the point of the knife. 
 The breast opened, and disclosed the fowl filled with choice toys 
 and other things. The first taken out was a tiny box; inside 
 wa? a gold chain and locket; the locket held Uncle Roy's picture* 
 
 It was a turkey for one, — for only Uncle Roy's niece. But 
 all the family shared the amusement. 
 
"BILLY'S ROAD." 
 
 Billy was not a boy, but a pet goat, with a thousand cun- 
 ning ways. He followed the Laytor children everywhere, even to 
 school. When the scholars were called in he would lie down in 
 the sun, or crop the grass that grew in the yard. At the noon 
 recess he came to the children for his dinner. As he made no 
 trouble, and was very obedient, the teacher did not object to his 
 coming. 
 
 The road to school lay across a rickety old bridge, that 
 spanned a narrow rushing creek. One morning when they came 
 to this stream they found the old bridge torn up and some men 
 working at a new one. One of the new sleepers was already down. 
 As it made a very safe foot-bridge they started to walk across it, 
 thinking, of course, that Billy would follow them. 
 
 Before they were half-way across they heard Billy's piteous 
 bleat behind them. There he stood, his fore feet on the sleeper, 
 while he looked doubtingly down at the swiftly rushing water. 
 He did not fear to walk the sleeper, for goats are very sure- 
 footed animals; but he did fear very much the noisy waters below. 
 
 When the children reached the ground they called him 
 aaxiously, but he still kept up his pitiful baa-a and his steady 
 gaee at the water. Mamie took from her lunch basket the tidbits 
 
 D 
 
BILLY'S ROAD. 
 
 of -which Billy was fond; but all in vain. He stood still and 
 kept up his mournful bleating. 
 
 Then one of the men proposed to throw him in the water, 
 laughing at the children's screams, and declaring a " cold bath 
 would be good for him." But Clinton came dashing across the 
 sleeper, and, taking Billy by the collar, pushed him back on the 
 ground ; then calling " Come, Billy," he was off on a swift r»r 
 through the bushes. 
 
 '-«. 
 
 ; • «^™^~-~ 
 
 ".i declare," said the man, "if that boy isn't making a path 
 for the goat through the grubs, clear round the creek." 
 
 Mamie went on alone, and when she was more than halt- 
 way to school Clinton came through the oak bushes out upon 
 the road, with Billy at his heels. 
 
 The new sleepers were put down, but the bridge was left 
 unfinished all summer. Clinton and Billy soon had quite a road 
 trodden around the creek, for the naughty goat would not go 
 alone. Teams passing this way also took this new path, aad 
 people called it " Billy's road." 
 
SCAMP'S THANKSGIVING. 
 
 To-day was Thanksgiving day. At least my master said so. 
 All I know is, that Thanksgiving means a big dinner, — every 
 Thanksgiving I have been to, and I am right old now for a pug- 
 dog. My master always invites lots of people to dinner, and such 
 a good time they have! 
 
 Yesterday I heard my master say there was going to be a 
 number of people here to dinner, so I thought I would invite 
 some dog friends to dinner, too. Pug-dogs have friends as well 
 as their masters. So I went out early this morning, and I saw a 
 poor, hungry-looking dog walking up the street, and I invited him. 
 
SCAMP'S THANKSGIVING. 
 
 Then I met a cat, and I invited her. Then I saw a bull-dog, and 
 I invited him; and, last of all, I thought I would ask my mas- 
 ter's brother Alexis' kitten. They all said they would come. 
 
 Then I began to wonder how I was going to get dinner for 
 them. So I began to hunt around. I went into the kitchen and 
 saw a big fat turkey on the table. Just then Annie, the cook, 
 went out of the room ; so I jumped up on the table and caught 
 the turkey in my mouth. I was just about to jump down with 
 it when Annie came back. "You scamp!" she cried; "what are 
 you doing?" 
 
 I dropped the turkey and started to run, but she caught me. 
 "You bad dog!" said she; "now I am going to lock you up." 
 She took me to the cellar and put me in the coal-bin and locked the 
 door- Here I have been all day. How ashamed I shall be when 
 I get out and see all the guests I invited! I wonder if they camp. 
 I don't think I like Thanksgiving. 
 

 
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