ffdt £^r^rt^C> &^0^ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill ': http://archive.org/details/storyofrobinhoodOOchic When they found that the King was addressing them, Robin Hood and his men fell on their knees before him. \r, The Story of ROBIN HO Popular Edition Profusely Illustrated Chicago M. A. Donohue & Co. A J M 1 PRINTED BO M. A. Donohue & Company CHICAGO und r IY f Made in U. S. A. ROBIN HOOD lived about seven hundred years ago, in England, when Richard the First was King. At that time a large part of the land was covered with great forests, in which deer, wild boar and other game ran wild; and it was near the borders of one of these, called Sherwood Forest, that Robin Hood was born. From his earliest years he had a great love for all the manly out-door sports and games, and he became very expert at them; above all, in the use of the bow and arrow. He grew so skillful \mm P^O *B I J4 HOOT* in this that there was no archer in all the country round who could compare with him, and he always carried off the prizes at the shooting matches. Besides this, he had bright wits, and a merry heart; loved a song and a jest; and was liked by nearly everybody who knew him. But something took place which drove him into a way of life that, otherwise, he might not have chosen for himself. In those days all the game in the forest belonged to the King; it was against the law to shoot it. The King had men in the forest, called for- esters, to catch those who did so and have them punished. One day, as Robin Hood was passing through the forest, he met with a party of these foresters. One of them was a man who had a great name as an archer and was — 8- B^O *B I Jf H O O 2> Robin Hood became a Great Marksman. — 9— P^O 3 I JV HOOD — _ " ■!■!■. i i ■' ■ ■ i ■■— ■ ■ ■■■ . ■— — i— j =ai jealous of Robin Hood's growing fame. He began to taunt Robin, and at last dared him to show his skill by shoot- ing a deer which came in sight at a great distance. Robin Hood's temper was up; and without thinking, he put an arrow in his bow and let it fly at the deer, which it struck and killed. The forester only became more angry at this feat, which was one he could not do himself, so he said he would take Robin and have him hung for kill- ing the King's deer. Robin started to fly, but the foresters pursued him so closely that he saw no chance of escap- ing, so he turned and again drawing his bow, sent an arrow into the heart of the man who had begun the quarrel. He dropped dead, while his comrades stood still, not knowing but that they might be served as badly, so Robin — 10 — P^O *B I ff H O O 7> Hood escaped. But as there would now be no mercy shown to him if any of the King's men laid hands upon him, he became an outlaw, that is, he lived in the forest, and got his food by shooting the deer and other game, try- ing of course not to come in the way of the foresters. Now there were many other young men who, from one cause and another had taken to this kind of life, and Robin Hood soon gathered them into a band of which he was made captain, and which became so strong that in the end they were more of a terror to the foresters than the foresters to them. They wore a uni- form of Lincoln green, with scarlet caps; and besides his bow and arrows, each man had a short sword; while the captain carried a bugle-horn with which to call his men when he needed them. -a— Robin Hood's struggle with Little John. -tt— P^O B I JV HOOT) i They led a pleasant life in the green- wood, but it was an entirely unlawful one, for besides shooting the game, they used to rob rich people who passed through the forest. But Robin Hood, though a robber, was in many ways so good that he was thought well of by most people; for he would not take from those who were poor — instead, he often gave them help. He would kiot let his men hurt or rob a woman, and when the weak were wronged he took their part. He gave a proof of this one day when he stopped a knight named Sir Richard of the Lea, who was passing with two followers, through the forest. Robin saw that the knight wore a very \ sad face, and he asked why this was so. The knight replied that he had met with losses, and had been forced to -13— I P^O KIT* HOOD mortgage his lands to the Abbot of St. Mary's of York, who, if the money were not paid next day, would seize all he had. Robin Hood was touched by the sadness of the knight, and agreed to lend him the sum needed to redeem his lands. The knight departed in great joy, and this kind deed was told far and wide, greatly to the credit of Robin Hood. Robin Hood's dearest friend, and the next in command to himself, was called Little John. The way in which they came together was this. Robin liked to roam the forest by himself in search of adventures; and one day, as he was passing thus along a forest path, he came to a brook over which a nar- row plank was laid. Here, in the center of the plank, he met Little John; it be- came a question as to which should go P^O B / JV H O O 2> back. "Let me pass," said the stranger, "or it will be the worse for thee." Robin laughed at the idea of any one trying to scare him by threats, and told the stranger to go back or he would put an arrow through him. "Then," said the other, "thou art a coward, for none other would offer to use a bow and arrows against a man armed only with a quarter staff." Now Robin Hood was anything but a coward, and cculd not bear to do that which would give anybody a right to call him one; so he stepped aside and cut for himself a staff of oak. "Now," said he, "we are equal, we will fight it out, and whichever knocks the other into the water shall be victor." The stranger was seven feet tall, and though Robin Hood was expert in the use of the staff, he found him more — 13 — P^O 3 I A HOOD than a match. After they had thumped each other well for a while, the stranger at last hit Robin a blow which sent him into the brook. He waded to the bank while the stranger stood and laughed at him. Then Robin Hood sounded his horn, and his men came running from all sides. When he told them how he had been served they wished to give the stranger a taste of the water too, but Robin, who was very much pleased with his strength and skill, stopped them, and asked the stranger if he would not be one of his merry-men. "Most willingly," cried he, "and though my name is John Little, I hope you will find that I can do great things!" The merry-men laughed when they heard the big stranger's name; and one of them said that it should be changed -16 — F^O *B I JV HO O 2> from John Little to Little John, which was done, and he was ever after called that way. Another time, as Robin Hood was walking through the greenwood, he found a fat friar sitting near a brook, and thought he would have some sport with him, so he said: "Carry me over the brook, fat friar, or I will beat thee till thou art sore." The friar, without a word, tucked up his gown and carried him over, but as Robin started off, he cried: — "Stop, my fine fellow, and carry me back or it will cause thee sorrow." Robin took the friar on his back, and carried him — 17 B^O *B I JV HOOT) over, and set him down, saying:— "Now, take me over once more, fat friar. As thou art twice my weight, it is right I should have two rides to thy one." The friar again took him on his back, but in the middle of the stream, he threw him in the water, saying: "Now, my pretty youth, let us see if thou canst swim." Then he went laughing on his way. But Robin was angry, and ran after him, and attacked him with his staff. The friar defended himself, and they fought for a long time without either getting the best of it. Finally, when both were tired out, Robin Hood told the friar who he was, and asked him if he would not like to join his band and be their chaplain. The friar was a jolly fellow, and was quite willing to take Robin's offer. So he became one of the merry -men, and was almost as — 18 The Friar dropped Robin into the middle of the stream. -19 — /COS I ff HOOD famous as Robin Hood himself, being known as Friar Tuck. Robin, before he became an outlaw, had been in love with a young maiden named Marian, but he had not seen her since. Her love for him did not die out, however; and finally her longing to see him became so great tha* she put on boy's clothes, and went to seek him in the forest. She met him at last; but he did not know her in her strange dress, and she would not, at first, tell him who she was, but drew her sword and dared him to fight. He, of course, soon over- came her; so she took off her cap, and let her beautiful hair fall over her shoul- ders, and then Robin Hood knew her. He still loved her as much as ever, and they were soon married by Friar Tuck, the merry-men celebrating their wedding with great festivity. F^O B / JV HOOD tssrssam Maid Marian longs to see Robin Hood again, so putting on boys' clothes, finds him in the forest. -a— F^O B I Jf H O O -D mm p— T » i -.,,-, -t— i^— — »— gBJ i. — i i — ■■■.— | ^TwieBiiii umi.iii' wi ■mt-i'iii. i ■■ It was the way of the outlaws when they caught travelers who seemed likely to have much gold or silver about them to take them to dine with Robin Hood. After they had been feasted he would see how much they had, and would make them pay for their entertainment according to their means. One day they brought before him a rich Abbot, the same who had been so harsh with Sir Richard of the Lea. Robin Hood re- solved that besides taking his gold, he would put him to shame, so after they had stripped him of all his money, they tied him upon a mule's back, with his face to the tail, and in that ridiculous posture sent him out of the forest, amidst hooting and laughter. One day, as he was on his way to the town of Nottingham, Robin Hood fell in with a traveling tinker and asked -22 — P^O *B I JSf H O O 2> ^riar Tuck marries Robin Hood and Maid Marian. -23- R^O B / ff HOOT) him for the news. "Surely," said he, "wandering about as thou dost, thou must hear a great deal." "Ay," said the tinker, "I do, and the latest I have heard is the best." "What may that be?" asked Robin. "It is," replied the other, "that at last there is to be an effort made to catch that thief, Robin Hood. He has done mischief enough in this forest. I have a warrant, myself, from the Sheriff of Nottingham to catch him; and it would be worth a hundred pounds to me if I could find him." Robin laughed to himself at this, but went on talking to the tinker until they came to Nottingham. Here he invited the tinker to go with him to an inn, where he treated him so liberally to ale that he became drunk, and, finally, fell asleep. When he awoke, Robin Hood — 24 — P^.O S I JV HOO D had gone, and the Sheriff's warrant was missing, too. The tinker called the land- lord, and told him of his loss. "Why," said the landlord, laughing, "thou hast been cheated; that was Robin Hood himself." The tinker at once started to hunt for Robin again; and was lucky enough to meet him in the forest the next day. He attacked him immediately with a thick club that he carried, while Robin defended himself as best he could with his oaken staff, which was the only weapon he had with him. They fought long, on nearly even terms, until at last Robin's staff broke beneath the stout blows of the tinker, who then called upon him to yield or he would crack his skull. Robin blew his horn for help, and Little John and another came to his aid. — 25 — F^O 21 I J* HOOT} — —r— - ■■■ ' J ' , ', ■ T '■ ' ' " ■'■" I ■'■ ' I I MM ■■ ' I ■ ' " ' | — ■ They seized the tinker and were going to hang him to a tree, but he was such a fine, stout fellow that Robin Hood thought he would like to add him to his band. So he proposed that he should join, saying that he would give him the hundred pounds reward which he had lost. This was too good an offer to be refused, so the tinker agreed, and Robin said that as he was a man of metal by trade, he hoped he would prove a man of mettle by nature. But it happened, at last, that King Richard had occasion to journey into that part of the country where Sherwood forest lay; and there he heard so much of the doings of Robin Hood, and of the way in which he evaded capture, that he made up his mind that something must be done to put an end to such defiance of authority. But he was advised that -26 — P^O ® / it would be useless to try to come at Robin Hood with a force of troops, as he knew the forest so well, and how to hide in it, that he had no trouble in escaping from pursuit when the greater strength of his foes made him choose not to fight. So the King concluded to go into the forest alone, wearing plain black armor, and without anything to show that he was King; hoping in this way to meet Robin Hood, and learn for him- self what kind of man he might be. He had not ridden many miles be- fore he was called upon to halt by Robin Hood himself, who took him for some obscure knight. The King had been a Crusader, and wore the red cross which was borne by those who had gone to the Holy Land to fight; and as Robin Hood had a great respect for nV -27 — The King is ordered to halt by Robin Hood* — 28 — B^O 3 I JV HOOT} such, lie addressed the supposed knight in a friendly way, and invited him to come and dine with him. The King consented, and Robin Hood led him to where the merry -men held their feasts, and they all sat down to a banquet of the best the forest afforded. The guest proved a jolly com- panion, and did his share in the way of joke and song. Being curious to know if Robin Hood and his men were as wonderful shots as report made them out to be, the King, after the meal, turned the talk on to the subject of archery, and Robin Hood was soon led into giving an exhi- bition of the skill of himself and his band. Two rods were set up at a dis- tance which the King, from his know- ledge of archery, thought to be too distant by at least fifty paces. But Robin — »— lK^O *B I JV HOOD I ""' """ ""*" ' ■■ * ■ - ■■ I' '" '" ■ " ■ ■ '" " . " X '—' JLl ' ■ ■ ~" 1 I .I ' -. T ■ " .- ■ ■ ' ■ ■ ■ i T! i i - V . J ..-. ^^ Hood said that his men must shoot at no nearer mark, and that by their rules he who missed should receive a stout blow as a penalty. When the shooting began, the King could not help express- ing his admiration at its accuracy; and the infliction of the penalty in the few cases in which shots were missed made him laugh heartily. Finally he spoke to Robin Hood and said: "Robin Hood, I have much credit with the King. How would it be if I could get him to forgive thy misdoings? Wouldst thou be one of his men and serve him faithfully? ,, This was what Robin wished more than all else in the world. "I would be glad," said he, "to give up the life I lead. I did not like it from the first. Some men praise my deeds; but, for my own part, I hate my way of living. — 30 B^O V I J* HOOD King Richard is a brave prince, and if he would but forgive me, he would find me as true and as full of love for him, as any man in his service." "I am King Richard," said the knight as he stood up with a majestic air; and when he had said this, Robin Hood and all his men fell down on their knees before him. "Stand up, my brave men," said the King. "You have been thieves, which you should not have been, but you are able to serve me if you will. I will forgive what you have done up to this time, but take care that your acts from henceforth are such that I shall feel no grief for the way I now treat you." Then Robin and his men arose and gave three cheers for the King. When the King returned to London, Robin and many of his men went with — 31 — B^O 2 J ft O O 2> When they found that the King was addressing them, Robin Hood and his men fell on their knees before him. — M- B^O g / jV HOOT} him, while those who remained were made foresters. Robin rose so high in the King's favor that he became rich, and was made Earl of Huntingdon. He continued to be as kind-hearted as ever, and never refused to help the poor and unfortunate, when it was in his power to aid them. He lived at court many years; but when he grew to be an old man, a great longing took possession of him to return to the forest and resume the merry life he had led there in his younger days. So he got the King's permission to leave the court, and with his dear friend, Little John, who shared his longing, he sought his old haunts in Sherwood. He found a few of his old comrades still living there, and spent some time very happily with them. But one day, as he was walking with Little John, — 33 — JCQ & I ft HOO D he said: "We have shot many deer together, Little John, but to-day I feel as though I could shoot no more." "Why sayest thou so, dear master," said Little John. "I know not what ails me," said Robin Hood, "but my fingers seem too feeble to draw the bow. Help me to Kirkley's Priory, Little John, perhaps my cousin, the Prioress, may relieve me by letting a little blood." So they set out for the Priory, but with all the assistance Little John could give him the walk so fatigued Robin Hood that when they reached there he was very ill. His cousin received him with great apparent friendship, and Little John left him in her care; but the Prioress, not realizing his weakened condition, bled him too freely. *I will shoot one more shot, and where the arrow falls, bury me." -38- P^O *B I ft HOOD When Little John came again he found his master in a dying condition. When he asked Robin Hood if there were nothing he could do for him, he said: "Bring my bow and arrows, and open yonder window. I will shoot one more shot, and where the arrow falls, there bury me with my bow by my side." So his bow was brought, and Little John supported him while, with all his remaining strength, he shot an arrow out of the window. He fell ex- hausted, and soon breathed his last. Then his friend, the heart-broken Little John, and his sorrowing comrades, bore him to the spot marked by the arrow; and there his grave was dug, and he was laid to rest as he had directed, while his numerous friends mourned their great loss. t WHO IS THE THIEF? When I was a boy, my mother took into the house a small girl, to run of errands and to pick peas. The name of this girl was Sarah. She was not more than twelve years old. The parents of Sarah were quite poor. They lived not far from our house ; and, when we gave Sarah any thing good to eat, she would want to run and take it to her father or mother. One fine day in June, my mother called up Mary, the girl who used to set the table, and said, " Mary, why have you rf>rgotten to put the bread in the napkins by the side of the plates on the dinner-table ? " " I am sure, ma'am," said Mary, " T put the rolls of bread by every plate not half an hour ago." WHO IS THE THIEF 1 ! "It is strange that they are not there now," said my mother. " Put on some more bread at once." The next day, it was rainy ; but, the day after that, the sk/ was blue, and the sun bright. Again my mother called up Mary, and said, " What does this mean ? There is no bread on the table to-day." " Well, ma'am, that beats all ! " cried Mary. " With my own hands I put the bread at every plate not five minutes ago ! " " Who do you think has taken it ? " asked my mother. " Indeed, ma'am, I can't say for certain," replied Mary ; " but I can guess who does it. I think the thief wears a blue calico dress." " Do you mean to say that Sarah takes the bread ? " " What becomes of all the cake and pie we give her, ma'am ? Off it goes to her folks the first chance. Not a bit will that child eat." " I will not think," said my mother, " that so good a daugh- ter can be a thief." " Wait and see, ma'am," said Mary. At the dinner-table, my mother told my father of the loss of the bread, and added, " Mary thinks that Sarah is the thief." " No, she isn't," said my father. " She hasn't the look of a thief. The girl or boy who does mean things soon shows it in the face. Was the bread stolen that day it rained ? " " No : the two times we have lost it the day has been fair." "And the window was open both those days, was it not?" « Yes ; but what has that to do with the theft ? " "I will watch to-morrow, and then I will let you know." So the next day, after the dinner-table was set, my father THE SPIDER. stood behind the door, and watched. The day war fair, and the window was open. By and by, the head of a large dog appeared at the win- dow. He looked round, saw no one, and leaped in. He went to each plate, took the roll of bread and ate i^ but did not disturb the table. My father went to the window and shut it, and there the thief was caught. A noble dog, but thin and hungry. My mother and I came in and saw him. No owner could be found for the dog ; so we kept him, and fed him, and after that he did not steal. We called him Bruno. As for Sarah, my father gave orders that she should have i nice plate of food every day to take to her father and mother. csoie chables. THE SPIDEk. I will tell you what my little niece Mary found out about the spider. She learnt it all from books, and told it to me as I now tell it to you. The spider is very greed'y and very cun'ning. In less than one day, he will eat more than twenty times his weight. If a little boy should get up in the morning, and eat a fat pig, and ten tur'keys ; and then, about noon, eat a few more pigs ; and, before he went to bed, eat a sheep or two, — he would not do more, ac*cord'ing to his size, than the spider oan do. The spider makes his web so that he may catch flies, moths, and such small things. But, if a bee or a wasp gets caught in his web, he will run and help him to break awty ; for h« ^es not quite like the ways of bees and wasps. A The spider's eyes are bright: sometimes he has six cw eight of them. He can smell, hear, and taste. Once a year, he changes his skin, and has a new set of legs. If one of his limbs gets torn off, he does not mind it much : it will aoon grow again. He has eight legs; and these are joint'ed like a crab's, and have claws at the ends. He has two short fore-arms, with which to hold his prey. He knows when there is to be a change of weath'er. By watch'ing his hab'its, we can learn to fore-tell a great storm or a great frost. He goes out of his web when rain or a bad storm sets in. A spider may be tamed. A man in prison once tamed a spider, so that it would come and eat out of his hand. I will tell you a story in which a spicier plays a part. There was once a young prince, who said, that, if he had the power, he would kill all the spiders and all the flies in ihe world. THE SPIDER. One day, after a great fight, this prince had to hide from his foes. He ran into a wood ; and there, under a tree, he lay down and fell asleep. One of his foes passed by, saw him, and, with his dra vn sword in his hand, was creeping up to him to kill him, when all at once a fly stung the prince on his lip, and woke him. He sprang to his feet, and the foe ran off That night the prince hid himself in a cave in the same wood. In the night, a spider wove her web across the en- trance of the cave. Two men, who were in search of the prince that they might kill him, passed the cave in the morn'ing ; and the prince heard what they said. " Look ! " cried one of them. " He must be hid in this cave." " No," said the other, " that cannot be ; for, if he had gone in there, he would have brushed down that spider's web." And so the men passed on, and did not try to look in the cave. As soon as they were out of sight, the prince thought how his life had been saved, one day by a fly, and the next day by a spider ! He raised his eyes and his hands to heaven, and made a prayer of thanks to God. He prayed, that, where he could not see why God had given life to this ugly thing and to that, he might learn to trust in God, and to wait for more light. Emily Cabteb THERE IS A TIME FOR ALL THINGS. Charles Ray came home from school, and said to his broth'er, " Come, Hen'ry, you have staid in the house long e-nough. There is fine skating on the pond. Get your skates, and let us be off"." " Stop and hear me read this sto'ry in my little magazine," uaid Henry. " I shall do no such thing," said Charles. " We have but an hour for play on the ice. We must go now if we would go at all." " But this is such a nice sto'ry that I want you to hear it," said Henry. " I will hear it at the right time, and in the right place," said Charles. " It is play-time now ; and I shall not stop to hear you read, though I am as fond of that little magazine as you are." Henry did not like to give up hi*, wish, and so he be-gan to read a-loud. THERE IS A TIME FOR ALL THINGS. Then Charles said, "You are as bad as the man who stopped to scold a boy at the wrong time." " Tell me a-bout it," said Henry. "Get your skates and come a-long, and you shall hear a-bout it," said Charles. " It is worth hear'ing." When the boys were out in the cool air with their skates, Charles told the tale thus : " There was once a boy, who, in try'ing to learn to swim, got be-yond his depth in the wa'ter, and saw that he must drown if he could not get help. " See'ing a man on a rock near by, he cried out to him to help him. But the man be-gan to talk to him thus : ' My young friend, you did wrong in go'ing into the wa'ter before you knew how to swim. You did wrong in com'ing a-lone to the beach, and go'ing out be-yond your depth. You did wrong ' — " '0 sir ! sir ! ' cried the poor boy, ' please help me now, and scold me after-wards. I shall drown be-fore you get through your ser'mon.' < ' Do not speak, but hear the voice of wis'dom, my young friend,' said the man. ' Let this teach you neVer to go be- yond your depth. If you had been a good, wise boy,' — " Here the boy sank." " Was the boy drowned ? " asked Henry. " No : he was not drowned. A big wave bore him in, where it was not over his head ; and he soon got on his feet, and ran up the beach, and put on his clothes." " I hope he gave that man a piece of his mind," said Hen- ry. " What a foolish old man he must have been ! " " I do not know what the boy said," said Charles. " I only know that the story ought to teach us that a thing that may be good at one time may not be so good at an-oth'er. The man was to blame in choos'ing such a time as that to preach" Sasdt Bat. fi< THE BLUEBIRDS WHO WOULD HAVE THEIR HOUSE CLEANED. I want to tell you a short story about some birds. It is a true story about Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird. I have a friend who is very fond of all kinds of pets, and, most of all, of birds ; and she loves so much to watch them, that she has put two little bird-houses in the trees near her window. Here, every year, a pair of bluebirds come to make their home for the summer. My friend likes very much to watch them, as they fly round so busily, getting food for their little ones, and, when the warm weather comes, teaching them to fly- So, very early every spring, my friend has the gardener clean out the houses, and make them quite nice, and ready for the little birds. But this spring, she was busy about other things ; and it was so cold and chilly, she scarcely thought of the birds. But one morning, as she was sitting by her window, she heard a great twittering and fluttering in the old maple-tree. It was Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird, and they were in some trouble. Mrs. Bluebird would go into the house and look round ; and then she would come out and talk away to Mr. Bluebird ; and then he would go in, and they would both come out, and chatter and scold. Then they examined the other house ; but it did not suit them any better. They said, just as plainly as birds could, that they would not do their own house-cleaning ; and then they flew oS. THE EUROPEAN HO USE-SPAR RROW. My friend was very much amused ; but she felt sorry too. for the disappointed little birds ; so she had the houses all put in good order that very day. The next morning she was much pleased to see the little birds back again. No doubt they were glad to find their house so nicely cleaned and put in order. They went to work happily and cheerfully to build their nest, and then tc go to house-keeping for the summer. Don't you think they were funny little bluebirds ? Charlie's Mamma -»o?e A DIALOGUE FOR GEORGE AND FRANK. GEORGE. Somebody's been in the garden, Nipping the blossoms fair : All the green leaves are blackened Who do you think was there ? FRANK. Somebody's been in the forest, Cracking the chestnutrburrs : Who is it dropping the chestnuts Whenever a light wind stirs 1 A DIALOGUE FOR GEORGE AND FRANK. GEORGE. Somebody's been at the windows, Marking on every pane : Who made the delicate drawings Of lace-work and moss and grain ? FRANK. Somebody's all the time working Out on the pond so blue, Bridging it over with crystal, — Now can you tell me who ? GEORGE. While he is building his bridges We will patiently wait ; And, when he has them all finished Then we will slide and skate. FRANK. And I will hurrah, and you will hurrah-^ GEORGE And we both will hurrah — - For Jack Frost ! am LOYE IS THE BEST FORCE. Once two little boys were on their way to school. They were broth'ers, and their names were John and Frank. John was the old'er of the two, and he liked to rule Frank by ^ sharp words ; but Frank did not like to be ruled in that way. "Come on — quick'er, quick'er. What a slow coa ch you are ! " said John. " It is not late, and the day is hot," said Frank. " I tell you I want to get to school in time to clean out my desk," said John. " Come ! you shall come." And then John tried to pull Frank a-long by main force ; but, the more John pulled, the more Frank made up his mind not to yield. While the dis-pute went on, they came to a place in the road where a man was trying to make a horse pull a great load of stones. The horse had stopped to rest, when the man be-gan to beat him. This the horse did not like, for he had tried to do his best : so he stood stock still. In vain did the man lay on the lash: the horse would not start. In vain did the man swear at him : the horse did not mind his oaths. LOVE IS THE BEST FORCE. Just then a young man came u , and said to the man with the load of stones, « Why do you treat a good, brave horse in that way ? He woidd pull for you till he died, if you would only treat him kindly. Stand a-side, and Jet me show you how to treat a good horse." So the man stood a-side ; and the young man went up, and put his arm round the neck of the horse, and pat'ted him on the back, and said, "Poor old fellow ! It was too bad to lash you so, when you were doing your best, and just stopped & mo'ment to take breath." And so the young man soothed the poor beast, by kind words and soft pats with his hand ; and then said to him, " Now, good old horse, see what you can do ! Come, sir ! we have only a few steps more to the top of the hill. Get up now. Show you will do for love what you would not do for hate." The horse seemed to know what was said to him ; for he start'ed off at a strong, brisk pace, and was soon at the top of the hill. " There, my good friend," said the young man to the driv'er, "I hope you see now that love is the best force; that even beasts will do for you, when you are kind, what they will .not do when you are harsh." John heard all these words, and they set him to thinking. At last he said to Frank, " It is a hot day, Frank ; and it is not late. Let us walk through the lane to school." " No, John," said Frank, " I will take the short cut, and will walk just as fast as you want me to. So, come on." "Frank," said John, "Love is bet'ter than hate, — isn't it?" " Oh, a thous'and times better ! " cried Frank. As chance would have it, they that day read in school a fa'ble, two thous'and years old, which I will now tell you. EVENING HIMN. The North Wind and the Sun had a dis-pute as to which could show the more strength. They a-greed that the one that could strip a man first of his cloak should be the ~ic'tor. First the North Wind tried his strength: he blew, and blew, with all his might ; but, blow as hard as he could, he could not do much. The man drew his cloak round him more and more tight; he would not let it be torn from him. So at last the North Wind gave up the tug, and called on the Sun to see what he could do. By look'ing at the two pict'ures of the same man, you may see what the North Wind could not do, and what the Sun did do. The Sun shone out with all his warmth. The man could not well bear the heat: he soon grew to be so warm that he had to take off his cloak ; and so the Sun be-came the win'ner in the tri'al. Love has more strength than hate. Emily Castes o» EVENING HYMN. I hear no voice, I feel no touch, I see no glory bright; But yet I know that God is near, In darkness as in light. He watches ever by my side, And hears my whispered prayer: The Father for his little child Both night and day doth care. NOW. CARLO, B IS FOR BARK! oJw, the garden where he ran was on a small island in the sea; and I will tell you what Pink did one morning. I was sitting in the sun on the sand ; and the sea was all blue and gold ; and the baby waves were dancing up and down, as nothing but baby waves can dance. Up above my head, right in the grass, a tiny kitten was hiding ; and down on the sand, by my feet, lay Pink. Oh, how black he was ! — not a bit of white about him anywhere. He kept his eyes on the grass where kittie was, a few minutes ; then up he jumped, and ran right up the bank, and sprang into the grass. All in a minute the dog ran past me again, and in his big mouth was the little kitten. " Pink, Pink ! — you naughty dog ! " I cried, " come here, this minute." But Pink did not mind me one bit. He just stopped half a second, or about that time, turned his eyes back at me, as if he would like to make them say, " I am only doing my duty, ma'am;" then he gave one solemn wag A TRICK OF MT BLACK PINK of his tail, and plunged off into the sea with kittle in his mouth. I ran down close to the water, and called and begged and scolded ; and my Black Pink paid no more attention to mfe than he did to the rocks on the shore. Around and around the dog went. Once or twice he dropped the kitten a little way out from his mouth, just to see if it could swim. Then back he came to the shore, laid kittie, all wet and cold, on the sand, shook himself, gave kittie two or three hints with his paw to get up and shake herself; but kittie did not mind: so Pink rolled her over and over in the sand, until there was such a big bundle of sand that nobody would think there was a kitten inside it. Then he took up the bundle, and carried it up the bank and laid it in the sun, and stood a long time looking at it. I picked up the kitten, and was carrying it to the house to rub off the sand and dry the poor thing ; and, as I was on the walk, I met John the gardener, and told him what Pink had done. CHICK- A-DBE. u Oh ! it won't kill the cat," he said. "Pink gives it a bath every day ; and kittie likes it when she gets dry" I am afraid some one will think this a made-up story, if I do not tell you that it is true ; that I saw it ; and that it hap- pened on a little island in Long-Island Sound, where I have spent many summers, and about which I could tell you stories enough to fill " The Nursery " a whole year. S. k. h oXKo CHICK-A-DEE. LITTLE MAKT'S SONG. Chick-a-dee ! chick-a-dee ! chick-a-dee-dee ! The bravest of all little birdies is he. He comes in the winter ; and, cold though it be. He cheerily warbles his chick-a-dee-dee. " Mary ! Mary ! sweet Mary '. " says he, " I'm a bright little bird, with a heart full of glee : Come here and live with me on my willow-tree, And I'll sing to you, darling ! I'll sing chick-a-dee '. ; " birdie ! dear birdie ! good chick-a-dee ! 1 cannot live with you in your willow-tree : My own mamma loves me as well as can be ; And what would my dear papa do without me ? " Pretty chick-a-dee-dee, so merry and free, Come sit, little birdie, on my cherry-tree : I'll throw you some crumbs from the window, you see, While you merrily warble your chick-a-dee-dee ! " West Newton. Codsin Luct. THE BIRD-HUNTERS. " Now for it ! " said Albert. " Just stand back, Lucy Keep still, and see me catch those two little birds." The two little birds did not seem to be much terrified by Albert's approach, though he had his hat all ready to pu< over them. They continued to play till he got quite near and then they flew up to a higher part of the tree. " You ought to get a little fresh salt and put on their tails," said Max, an older boy, who stood near with a stick in his hand. " There is no such thing as fresh salt," said Lucy : " salt is always salt." GOLD LOCKS. " oo it is," said Max ; " and you, like the birds, are too wise to be caught." " If I can't catch a bird, I can catch a butterfly," said Albert. But he tried to catch one, and failed. Then Max said, " Look here, little ones, my mother says it is wrong to torment birds and butterflies. We ought to be kind to every thing that lives. Come with me, and I will show you where we can pick a plenty of ripe black- berries." So they went with Max, and picked blackberries. With some large leaves they made a little plate, and put in it berries enough to take home to their mother. u, A . oXKo GOLD LOCKS. Gold Locks wears such a cunning cap ! Delicate are its soft white laces, Dainty and blue its silken crown : Dear little girl, how sweet her face is I With her Normandy bonnet on, Easy it might be to mistake her For a small-folks' queen from fairy-land, Or a quiet, rose-cheeked little Quaker. Yet she's neither a Quaker nor a queen, For all she wears such a funny bonnet ; But her head is the brightest ever seen, With grandpa's loving hand upon it. Clara Dotf Bates. Clarence at the Menagerie On the first day of May, a big menagerie came to our town; and Clarence went with his papa to see the animals. He enjoyed looking at them all; but most of all he liked the monkeys and the elephants. He fed monkeys with candy, and laughed to see them hang by their tails while they took it from his hand. They ate all the candy he would give them, and did it in a very funny way. Clarence's papa said the candy had better be eaten by monkeys than by boys; but I doubt whether Clarence was of that opinion. CLARENCE AT THE MENAGERIE. Clarence was afraid of the great elephant when his papt* first took him near it, and hung back when they came within reach of its trunk. " Why are you afraid of the elephant, Clarence ? " asked his papa. " I'm afraid he will trunk me," said Clarence. But he soon got over his fear, and was so busy feeding the elephant, that his papa had to coax him away. On their way home, Clarence's papa told the little boy some stories about elephants. Here is one of them : — A famous elephant, called Jack, was once travelling with his keeper from Margate to Canterbury in England, when they came to a toll-bar. Jack's keeper offered the right toll, but the toll-bar man would not take it. He wanted to make them pay more than was right. So he kept the gate shut. On this the keeper went through the little foot-gate to the other side of the bar, calling out, " Come on, Jack • " and at once the ele- phant applied his trunk to the rails of the gate, lifted it from its hinges, and dashed it to the ground. He then went on his way, while the toll-bar man stood petrified to see what a mistake he had made in demanding an unjust toll from an elephant " Now. Clarence," said his papa, " I suppose you would say that the elephant ' trunked ' the toll-gate, and so he did ; but, you see, it was because he did not choose to be imposed Upon. Clakf.nce'b Vasx THE CHILDREN AT GRANDMOTHER'S. HERE was once a grandmother who had four« teen little grandchildren. Some of them were cousins to one another ; and some were brothers and sisters. This grandmother lived in an old, old cottage not far from the sea-beach. The cottage had a long sloping roof; and there was an elm- tree in front of it. One fair day in June, the boys went down to the sea-beach to bathe, and the girls went out on the lawn to play. Some of them thought they would play " hunt the slipper." But little Emma Darton, who was a cousin to the rest, said, " I promised my mother I would not sit down on the grass : so, if you play ' hunt the slipper,' I must not play with you ; for in that game you have to sit." Then her Cousin Julia replied, " Nonsense, Emma ! It is a bright warm day. Don't you see the grass is quite dry ? Come, you must not act and talk like an old woman of sixty. Come and join in our game." But Emma said, " When I make a promise, I always try to keep it. If to do that is to be like an old woman of sixty, then I am glad I am like one." " You are the oldest-talking little witch I ever knew for a five-year-old," cried Julia. " If you don't look out, you'U not live half your days." " I think Emma is right," said Marian, another cousin. " So, if you insist on sitting on the grass, Emma and I will go and sit by ourselves on the trunk of the old fallen tree." But Julia insisted on having her game of " hunt the slipper ; " and Emma and Marian went and sat down on the fallen trunk, and looked on while the rest played. THE FLYING WOOD-SAWYER. The next day five of grandmother's little visitors did not seem to be well. Some were coughing, and some were sneezing, and some were complaining of pains in their limbs. " Why, what is the matter with you, children ? " said the old lady. " If I did not know you were sensible little girls, I should say you had been sitting on the clamp grass, — all of you but Emma and Marian.'" The cousins looked at ■ one another ; but no one spoke aloud. Then Marian whispered to Emma,, " A.re you not glad you kept your promise to your mother ? " Emma looked up and smiled, but did not say a word. Dora Bbrnside. THE FLYING WOOD-SAWYER. One day last winter I was cutting maple-logs in the woods with a cross-cut saw. It was about five feet long, and had a handle at each end, so as to be used by two persons together. My brother generally helped me ; but, for some reason, he was not with me then, and I was at work all by myself in a rather lonesome place. I had finished eating my dinner, set my pail under a clump of trees, and commenced my afternoon job ; but, as the log was large and hard, I often had to stop and rest a minute. While I was standing still, with my hands upon one handle of the saw, all at once a bird came flying down towards me ; and, after resting upon the ground behind the log a few moments, what do you suppose he did ? Whether he knew I was tired, and thought it was too hard for me to cut the wood all alone, I cannot say ; but suddenly he gave a little spring, and seated himself right on the other THE FLYING WOOD-SAWYER. handle of my saw, as you see in the picture, grasping it with all the hands he had, and looking as though he had come on purpose to help me saw that log through. For my part, I rather think he did help me ; for, while he kept his hold upon the other end of the saw, I rested faster than I ever did before. I stood as motionless as a statue ; for I feared that any movement would scare the bird away. How soon I should have got through my sawing with his help, I cannot tell. But suddenly he seemed to think of something more important ; and away he went, like a streak of sunshine, off into the woods beyond me. I have never .seen my sawyer-bird since then. I call him my " sawyer-bird " because I don't know how else to name him. He was a strange bird to me : but he seemed like a good friend ; and I shall always remember him as he looked when trying to help me work that winter's day. Uncle William. r '"^rnmrn THE OLD BLIND MAN AND HIS GRAND- DAUGHTER. Silver-white his locks are straying As upon the bench he sits, While his little grandchild, playing, Round about him sings and flits. Calmly there, and unrepining, Waits he — he is old and blind ; But the sun is brightly shining. And the soft spring airs are kind. PAPA'S STORY. " Ah ! if he could once, once only, See the splendor of the vale ! He, so old and weak and lonely, See the trees wave in the gale ! " Then his little daughter, pressing Up against the old man's knee, With her childish, soft caressing, Filled his heart with boyish glee. Through her eyes once more beholding All the glories of the spring, Now his youth once more unfolding, Hope and joy and beauty bring. From the Gbk»'%&. PAPA'S STORY. " Now, papa, for another army story," said little Eddie as he climbed into papa's lap, and prepared himself to listen. Papa closed his eyes, stroked his whiskers ; and Eddie knew the story was coming. This is it, — One day, when we were camping in Virginia, some of us got leave to go ■nto the woods for chestnuts, which grew there in great ahundance. We ;vere busy picking up the nuts, when we heard a scrambling in the buab.es. SVe thought it was a dog. " Was it a dog ? " asks Eddie. " No, it was not a dog." " Was it a cat ? " " No, it was not a cat." *' papa ! was it a bear ? " PAPA'S STORY. *No, it was not a bear." Si Do tell rne what it was ! " " Well, let me go on with my story, and you shall hear. It was a fox. How lie did run when he saw us ! We ran after him and chased him into a pile of rails, in one corner of the camp. You see, the soldiers had torn down all the fences, and piled them up for fire-wood. The fox ran right in among the rails ; and, the more he tried tc get out, the more he couldn't. "A fox, a fox ! " we shouted; hearing which, all the men, like so man; boys, rushed up, and made themselves into a circle around the wood-pile, Bo that poor foxy was completely hemmed in. PAFA'S STOBT. Then a K.8olly, now, must have a pie : We will make it, you and I. Here's a cunning little tin ! Roll and roll the pie-crust thin; Spread it smoothly now within j Lay some bits of apple in, Cover nicely ; let it bake : That's the way our pies we make. THE TIDE COMING IN. Dolly may not eat it all ; Then, if playmates chance to call, We will give them a surprise With our little cakes and pies. All we make is good to eat ; For our hands are clean and sweet ; And we have such handy ways, Our dear mother often says, That she thinks, by all the looks, We shall soon be famous cooks, emeroy vurvusa o:<«o THE TIDE COMING IN. JttMA and Rose were on a visit to their uncle, who lived near the seaside. They came from Ohio, and did not know about the ebb and flow of the tide of the ocean. They ran down on the sandy beach, and seated themselves on a rock. Their cousin Rodney was not far off, engaged in fishing for perch. All at once there was a loud cry from Julia, the THE TIDE COMING IN. elder of the two sisters. The water had crept up all round the rock on which they sat, thus forming an island of it ; and they did not know what to make of it. " The water has changed its place," shouted Rose. Rodney was alarmed, and began to blame himself for neglecting, in his eagerness to catch a few fish, the little girls under his charge. He took off his shoes and stockings, rolled up his panta- loons, and ran into the water over the sandy bottom to the rock. Taking Rose in his arms, he told Julia to follow. " But I shall wet my nice boots," said Julia. " Then, wait on the rock," said Rodney, " while I carry Rose, and set her down on dry land. I will then come for you, and carry } r ou pickback to the shore." " No, Cousin Rodney," said Julia : " I think I will not ride pickback. I should be too heavy a load. I must not mind wetting my boots and stockings." " Then, place your hand on my shoulder, and come along," said Rodney. " The tide is gaining on us very fast." " I don't know what you mean by the tide," said Julia. " Why, cousin," said Rodney, " you must know that the tides are the rise and fall of the waters of the ocean. It will be high tide an hour from now ; then the water will cover ah these rocks you see around us. After that, the water will sink and go back till we can see the rocks again, and walk a long way on the sand ; then it will be low tide. But we must not stay here talking : the water will soon be too deep for us." So Rodney took Rose in his arms, and Julia placed her left hand on his right shoulder ; and in this way they went through the water to the dry part of the beach. " We must look out for this sly tide the next time," said Uttle Rose as she ran to tell papa of their adventure. Uhcle CqA mmmm m tw^^ *P Moderate. -,* -4 Music by T. CHAMPION. / 1. "When the moon is si lin-ing Brightly in the sky, Lit - tie birds lie 2. Lit - tie lambs that briskly Run, and skip and play, All a - mong the -ft ft T _ H ^ t-* *-&■ aas I ^ ■»- tft - *- -*- -»i- -*- snug - ly In their nests on high. Not a wing they flut - ter, mead-ows, Thro' the sum-mer day. Rest within the sheep-fold, 1 : ^=^ == T = =^^ m 5 — 3 — 3 — % — «-Pj — ?- — H« — c — J — d J it =ter*.— zt= t± ^—^L Not a chirp is heard, Oh ! to sleep so soundly, • Each be - side its dam,— Oh ! to be as hap - py As a lit - tie As a lit - tie fe r*==< c =ti sqaF^g 1 Oh ! to sleep so soundly, Oh ! to be as hap - py ! As As mtt££^E^E lit - tie bird, lit - tie lamb. E g^fc GOOD-NIGHT AND GOOD-MORNING. A fair little girl sat under a tree, Sewing as long as her eyes could see ; Then smoothed hs? work, and folded it right, And said, " Dear wcik. gcod-night ! good-night ! " Such a number of rooks came over her head, Crying " Caw ! caw ! " on their way to bed, She said, as she watched their curious flight, " Little black things, good-night ! good-night ! " The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed ; The sheep's " Bleat ! bleat ! " came over the road All seeming to say, with a quiet delight, * Good little girl, good-night ! good-night I " LITTLE ANNA. And what do you think were the last words she said As mamma led her darling at night up to bed ? " When I'm a big lady, and go to housekeeping, I sha'n't leave a cobweb for spiders to sleep in." Mrs. H. F. Harrington. oXKo LITTLE ANNA. This is the cot- a tage where little Anna lived. She ran out, and played all day in the green meadows, and was as happy as a bird. A great golden butterfly was rest- ing on a flower. Anna ran to catch it ; but away it flew, up into the bright blue sky. Then she sat down among the lilies, and kissed their red lips, and said, " Pretty, pretty, pretty ! " That was all she could say. There was a little lamb feeding in the meadow. Anna went up to it, and patted its soft white wool with her hands. Then she ran down to the little brook that ~ flowed through the meadow, and there she saw her face in the clear water. When she was tired, she lay down under a bunch of lilies, and went to sleep. There is where her mother found her, asleep among the flowers. w. o. c <*»{o If wishes were horses, beggars would ride ; If wishes were watches, I'd wear one by my side. THE LITTLE BOY'S KEBUKE. There was once a very old man who lived in the house of his son. The old man was deaf; his eyes were dim, and his legs weak and thin. When he was at table he could hardly hold his spoon, so much did his hand shake ; and at times he would spill his soup on the cloth. All this vexed his son and the son's wife ; and they made the old man sit in a corner behind the stove. There he ate his food from an earth'en-ware dish ; and he had not always too much to eat, as you may guess. Well, one day his trem'bling hands could not hold the dish : it fell on the floor, and broke. At this his son and his son's wife were so vexed that they spoke harsh'ly to the poor old man. His only an'swer was a deep, sad sigh. They then brought him a bowl made of wood, out of which he had to take his food. Not long after this, his little grand'son, a boy of about four years of age, was seen at work with a chis'el and ham'mer, hol'low-ing out a log of wood. His parents could not guess what he was trying to do. The little boy said nothing to any one, but kept at work on the log, and looked very grave, as if he had some great work in hand. " What are you do'ing there ? " asked his father. The lit- tle boy did not want to tell. Then his mother asked, "What are you do'ing, my son ? " " Oh ! " said he, " I am only making a little trough, such as our pigs eat out of." SPBWG VOICES. " But what are you making it for, my son ? " " I am making it," said he, " for you and father to eat out of when I am a man." The parents looked at each other, and burst into tears. From that time forth, they treated the old man well. He had the best place at the table, a nice dish, and plenty of food. Uncle Charles. o?8 h -H f . J» h-fth^'h . I ■! J r_-iEEj=ri=S: =&=*3*: J=3*=3*==iEb=j=n]=A: :tsEEE3 * * * * » ■ -*- « — # — # — #- * neighbours al-ways used to say, X wish he'd stop that dru mmi ng ; Row de dow, dow, man or beast come on, who cares ? Not Bil - ly Hood ; not I ! " Row de dow, dow, on the kitchen floor he sank,' This valiant lit - tie man ! Bow de dow, dow, §i sb£4* =*=? rHh— S=q i — i — jt- i — i 1 — i — « — is i* h h -J 3 — » — «— i- > * 9 tf- a=: -frr+l XT ZjZ dow ! ^H*-i Row, dow, dow ! JiT**!" ^w de dow de, -* « -0 • m- row de, dow de. row, dow -t— t dow I ■fr- t^W 'JJ 1 -1 1 r r ■f — t — « p - zj. 1 7 1 THE GLEANERS. Come to the cornfields ! * who will go ? To the golden cornfields ! who will go ? 51 The " cornfields " here referred to are the cornfields of Europe, which to this country would be called fields of wheat or other grain. The poppy, which is here only seen in gurdena jrow» there as a common weed in the cornfields. A PRESENT FOR MARIA. Where the full-eared corn lies low, And the scarlet poppies blow, — Who will go ? Underneath these skies of blue, — Bright and happy skies of blue,— There is work for all of you, — Kate and little Harry too, Work for you. The busy gleaners they are here, — Young and old, they all are here. Work now like the busy bee, — like the busy honey-bee, — Help, children dear ! G erda Fa* A PRESENT FOR MARIA. Do you see what Thomas, the gardener, is giving to Maria? It is a pretty little canary-bird in a cage. Thomas has bought it on purpose for her. He makes her a present because he likes her. She has always been kind to him ; and what pleases him still more is, that she has been kind to his little boy, — the boy who is playing with the wagon. Do you see what that little boy holds with his left hand ? He holds two red apples. Maria has just given him those apples. He is greatly pleased with them. He will not drop them if he can help it ; but he must try to move the wagon with his other hand. The other little boy in the picture is Maria's brother PauL I am sorry to say that he is not a very good boy. He is A PRESENT FOR MARIA. not pleased to see a present given to his sister. He wonders why presents are not given to him. I can tell you the reason, Master Paul. It is because you think only of yourself. You never try to please anybody else. You must learn to be obliging and friendly to others if you would have them care for you. Alfred Selwyn. HOW KOSE TOOK CAKE OF THE CHILDREN, A few years since, there was a little boy named Nelson, who lived in London. He was seven years old; and he had a sister two years younger, and a brother three years younger, than himself. The parents of these children were poor. One day, when Nelson was coming back from an errand for his mother, a poor little terrier-dog followed him. This dog seemed weak and hungry ; his feet and legs were covered with mud, and one of them was lame. " What is the matter, little dog ? " asked Nelson ; and, hearing these kind words, the little dog trotted after the boy more boldly, as if he had found a good friend. On looking closer, Nelson saw that there were lumps on the dog's side, as if he had been beaten with a stick When the boy reached his home, the dog waited outside on the doorstep. HOW ROSE TOOK CARE OF THE CHILDREN. The children came out to see him ; and the dog had such a look of sorrow in his large dark eyes, that it made them cry with pity. u Do let us keep him, mother, and take care of him," said they ; " for he has been badly used." The mother wished her children to be merciful and kind ?o she let the poor dog lie in the wash-house for the night, and gave it some food. The children called the dog Rose for that was the prettiest name they could think of. In a few days, Rose grew to be quite strong and well and he showed his gratitude for kindness in a wonderful manner. He guarded the house, took care of the hens and chickens, and, what was best of all, went daily with the children to school, and fetched them home. Now, there was a bad place to cross in the road to the school, and the eldest boy found it hard to take care of his little brother and sister in getting across this place. Rose seemed to know what ought to be done. He would walk before the children to the edge of the sidewalk, and then, if he saw a carriage coming, he would bark at the children, and run round them, as if they were a flock of sheep he was taking cars of. He would not let one of the children cross until he saw it was safe, and the road was clear, so that they would not be run over ; and then he would lead them across, and so frolic along until he came to the school. Leaving the children at school, Rose would trot home. By and by, the good mother would say, " Rose, it is time to fetch the children ; " and then this faithful dog would run to the school, and bring the children home in the same way he had led them before. As winter came, he would carry their dinner-basket for SHADOW BUFF.