iAN CO. 
 
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Cornell 1Hntver8it\> 
 
 Xibran? 
 
 OF THE 
 
 IRew IPork State College of agriculture 
 
 ^fJLJJSJ. s<aiteiio : 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PZ 7.H86 
 
 Cat-tails, and other tales, 
 
W 9W « Cornell University 
 
 fflW Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924014479343 
 
CAT-TAILS 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER TALES 
 
 MARY H. HOWLISTON 
 
 Author of "Child's Song Book.' 
 
 A. FLANAGAN COMPANY, 
 
 CHICAGO. NEW YORK. 
 
Copyrighted 1895 
 
 BY 
 
 MAEY H. HOWLISTOM 
 
 OOPYBIQHTED 1899 
 BY 
 
 A. FLANAGAN 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Whoever has to do with little children knows the 
 delight they take in stories; he knows, too, that a 
 marked characteristic of childhood is a lively imagin- 
 ation, a faculty which should be as carefully culti- 
 vated as the memory. 
 
 It is hoped that these stories will be found useful 
 for training the imagination, for leading the child to 
 more intelligent observation of the phenomena about 
 him, and for creating an interest in Natural Science. 
 
 They have been used in connection with science 
 lessons given little children, many of them containing 
 ideas and opinions expressed by the children them- 
 selves during their observations and experiments. 
 
 Thanks are due the following for stories and ad- 
 vice: Sara E. Wiltse, and Ginn & Co., author and 
 publishers of Stories for Kindergartens; Andrea 
 Hofer, editor of Child-Garden; G. Anna Raymond; 
 W. W. Speer, author of "Lessons in Form ;" and Pro- 
 fessor W. S. Jackman, teacher of science, Chicago 
 Normal School. 
 
 MARY H. HOWLISTON. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Brownie and Cat Tail _. 7 
 
 Dorothy's Experiment J 57 
 
 Echo Elves 3* 
 
 Fish or Frogs 2I 
 
 Fairy Mercury (The). .'..-. 36 
 
 February I2th l6 9 
 
 February 22d l 77 
 
 Giant Sloth and the Tiddlywinks - ■ ■ 79 
 
 Grandma Kaoline IIQ 
 
 Grandma Kaoline's Story U- 
 
 Green Worm (The) '. 146 
 
 How Dame Nature Got Her Frost 7° 
 
 Little Brown Seed 4° 
 
 Life of a Butterfly. 49 
 
 Little Goldenrod ..' ._ 104 
 
 Lilac Buds . . .". - 117 
 
 Little Maple Leaves 134 
 
 Living Plow (A) '. 141 
 
 Magnet's Choice (The) 15 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Robin 59 
 
 More About Green Worm 151 
 
 May 30th 183 
 
 Old Sol's Rainbow , 126 
 
 Pussy Willow's Hood •. 66 
 
 Pine Tree Who Had Her Wish (The) 131 
 
 -Seedling's on the Wing 94 
 
 Story of Tad and Polly (The) 154 
 
 Towel's Party (The) 164 
 
 Vapor Family 85 
 
 What Broke the China Pitcher 27 
 
 Walnut Tree that Wanted to Bear Tulips 74 
 
 What the Fire Sprites Did '. 99 
 
 Wee Wee Man (The) 161 
 
AT- TAIL 
 
 sutty little CAt-taib .,-**V> 
 
 mm GroOintf in th.e %vatef »i 
 '" YYr|at a_o ybu. talk about. 
 
 Talking all togerker? r <^ 
 
 "Talk about Hje" Su.njk.in« 
 Talk about tke f/oweTS 
 :Jk about the rainbow 
 Talk about* Ike 5kow , er5 1 
 
 tttlft Cat- tail* 
 you. l"e|| me true 
 
 tta fiyS a-itd. bujwaiej 
 Con\e and Way tvitk, y&u.' | 
 en tke moon. skineS br^ljtly 
 
 In tke Su.mn.tr weatker) 
 in times tkey dance witk us 
 
 Dancing ail together.' 
 
 .ppy Ji'tt/e Cat- tails 
 /Joddind in. the breei-e 
 
 ^o you. 'feo.rtke winter yyiH 
 Wk.i8tfin.cj In tketreV>|L 
 »vk.ispeT& - to u-S 5™ I" 
 
 tfie ice ana Snov/ 
 .e . l-royyn. seed kVade 
 nobinA Soon, to Qr°"*.n 
 
 7A 
 
 db/<? litt/e Cat-tails I 
 We would learn of you. 
 
 about your little frierii 
 
 y^eatk t/|e sky . So blue 
 
 _ __ _ A// about tke beetle^ 
 
 S^A-n .6. "kis funny house 
 
 = M. 1 1 a bout Mtey tadpo/i 
 
 &SZF the 
 
 :<•£-< 
 
 ^Jokn-C Oilbfrtss. 
 
BROWNIE AND OAT-TAIL. 
 
 The Oat-tails that you are to hear about lived 
 beside a certain marsh, in a certain out-of-the-way 
 part of the world. 
 
 It was a very pleasant spot. The days were al- 
 most always bright and sunny and the air was almost 
 always filled with cheery summer sounds, hum of 
 bees, chirp of crickets and croak of frogs. 
 
 The Oat-tails had once been told by a little bird — 
 it's always a little bird that tells things, you know — 
 that there were places where Dame Nature's chil- 
 dren were not contented, that there were daisies who 
 wanted to be buttercups, worms that wanted to be 
 butterflies, and so on. They could scarcely believe it. 
 Never once in their sunshiny lives had such a thought 
 entered their brown heads. 
 
 They felt that it was a good thing to be Cat-tails; 
 that it was good to live on the edge of the marsh, 
 with a little brook rippling past, and that there could 
 not be a lovelier blue sky or fleecier clouds than were 
 over their own heads. So filled were they with con- 
 tent that they grew very straight and tall, and their 
 brown blossoms were like richest velvet. 
 
8 BROWNIE AND CAT-TAIL. 
 
 They had a way of telling the peace and good-will 
 that filled them by waving their long green blades 
 with a rustling sound with every passing breeze. 
 One day when the sky was overcast and it did seem 
 a little gloomy even where the Cat-tails lived, the 
 Willow called to them, "You surely have nothing to 
 be glad about to-day. There isn't a ray of sunshine." 
 
 "But the sun is shining somewhere," answered the 
 Cat-tails, "and we're glad about that." 
 
 Perhaps it was because they were so contented 
 that the Brownie who lived under the coal in the cel- 
 lar during the winter came out to the marsh to spend 
 the summer with them. At any rate, out he came, 
 and had the happiest summer of his whole life. He 
 was very fond of the Cat-tails. Their brown heads 
 were an exact match for his brown suit, and there 
 never was a better swing, he thought, than the one he 
 had in the top of the oldest Cat-tail, who was also 
 the tallest, where he just sat still and let the wind do 
 the pushing. By and by came Hallowe'en, which is 
 a night, you know, when all sorts of strange things 
 happen, when Brownies travel the world over as fast 
 as the wind, when Mother Goose and her children 
 ride about on moon-beams, when witches make tea 
 on your window-sill, and the spider crawls out of his 
 nest and weaves a dainty web over the grass for the 
 
BROWNIE AND CAT-TAIL. 
 
 dew-drop fairies to dance upon. The Cat-tails at this 
 time were still velvety brown without, but daintiest 
 white within. They were so full that every now and 
 
 then the brown coats opened 
 and away sailed a tiny white 
 fairy. 
 
 Now, the same little bird that 
 whispered to the Cat-tails whis- 
 pered a secret to Brownie. The 
 bird said that the little white 
 fairies that sailed away from 
 the Cat-tails seemed to carry 
 with them something of their 
 content, and whatever they 
 touched felt the same. This 
 gave Brownie an idea. Some- 
 how he didn't feel like playing the 
 old Hallowe'en tricks. After the 
 little bird had gone he said to himself, "The 
 tallest Cat-tail shall go with me and we'll drop 
 those fairy seeds of his where I know they're 
 
10 BROWNIE AND CAT-TAIL. 
 
 needed and have all the fun that's going on, too." 
 The tallest Cat-tail liked the plan, and away they 
 went. Brownie led the way to a beautiful room— 1 
 however he got in I'm sure I don't know — where 
 Dinah, the Angora cat, lay curled up on a cushion. 
 "Come, Dinah," said Brownie. "It's Hallowe'en; 
 don't you know it's a night for fun?" "I can't have 
 any fun," said Dinah, "because I haven't a blue satin 
 ribbon for my neck. Go away and let me alone." 
 "No, no, Dinah," said Brownie. "Hold up your paw 
 and hold fast all I give you. See!" And he- waved 
 Cat-tail over her head. And the people of that house 
 have never heard Dinah ask for a blue satin ribbon 
 since. 
 
 "Now we'll visit Ked-top," said Brownie. "He's 
 out-of -sorts because he's lost his brightest yellow and 
 green feather." 
 
 "Wake up, Red-top," said Brownie to the old 
 rooster asleep on his perch. "Wake up. It's Hal- 
 lowe'en and a night for fun." "Don't talk to me of 
 fun," said Red-top. "I can't forget my beautiful 
 green and gold feather." "Well, then," said 
 Brownie, "I say you shall forget it, and here goes!" 
 And, before Red-top could turn around, down came 
 the feathery things from Cat-tail's breast and, as 
 Brownie and Cat-tail left the place, they heard Red- 
 
BROWNIE ANJ^ CAT-TAIL. 11 
 
 top crowing so loudly that the hens were beginning 
 to cackle, and the Hallowe'en fun began in the hen- 
 house. 
 
 "Now, there's Piggins. We'll go to him next. He's 
 a great friend of miDe, and will you believe it, Cat- 
 tail, he's unhappy because his little tail won't curl." 
 
 Piggins was curled up in a corner of his pen and 
 only gave a grunt when Brownie knocked. "Come, 
 Piggins, let me in," called Brownie. "It's Hal- 
 lowe'en and a night for fun. Come out and we'll 
 catch a goblin and shut him up in the farmer's sugar- 
 bowl." 
 
 "I can't thLak of fun while my tail acts so," said 
 Piggins, but he put his nose out of the door just long 
 enough to catch a shower from Cat-tail and hear the 
 laughter of the two friends as they ran off. Piggins 
 instantly forgot all about his tail and scampered 
 after them as fast as his little legs could carry him. 
 
 Now, at this very time, Will-o'-the-Wisp stole out 
 of his home in the gloomy swamp and came dancing 
 along the very road down which Brownie and Cat- 
 tail were running, with Piggins close at their heels. 
 Will-o'-the-Wisp never left his gloomy swamp at any 
 other time than Hallowe'en and was never seen when 
 the moon was shining, but on this night he was al- 
 wvjs about having fun with the rest. He thought it 
 
12 BROWNIE AND CAT-TAIL. 
 
 fun to dance before any creature he could find and^ 
 lure it away to. his dark and gloomy swamp. As soon 
 as he saw Brownie, Cat-tail and Piggins he slyly 
 laughed and said, "Ho! a Brownie! Wouldn't I like 
 to catch him!" and he made himself as bright as he 
 could, which wasn't very bright, because really there 
 was neither fire nor flame about him. 
 
 •Brownie opened his round eyes very wide, for in all 
 his travels he had never seen Will-o'-the-Wisp. 
 
 "Look, Cat-tail," he said. "See that pretty thing 
 dancing ahead of us. Maybe it's a weegie man. Let's 
 follow it." Brownie didn't know what a weegie man 
 was, but remembered a song about one his grand- 
 father used to sing. So Brownie, Cat-tail and Pig- 
 gins ran on after Will-o'-the-Wisp, who clapped his 
 hands with glee and flitted on. He was very hard to 
 follow, because at one minute he was at the side of 
 the road and the instant Brownie, Cat-tail and Pig- 
 gins reached him he darted off and they saw him on a 
 fence post behind them; but they hurried on, and 
 after a great deal of jumping, running and falling, 
 Will-o'-the-Wisp had them just where he" wanted 
 them, at the edge of the swamp. Just as they were 
 about to plunge in after him, Brownie thought of the 
 door-knob, who was unhappy because people thought 
 more of the door-key than they did of him, and he. 
 
BROWNIE AND CAT-TAIL. 13 
 
 cried to Will-o'-the r Wisp, "Oh, please! we must go 
 back, but we'll come to play with you after a while." 
 Will-o'-the-Wisp frowned, but he didn't give up the 
 plan of catching Brownie and his friends. He danced 
 about again until he saw them all coming down the 
 road, and this time he almost caught them, when lo! 
 Brownie thought of some one else who needed a bit 
 from Cat-tail's breast, and again they hurried away. 
 
 And so it went on. Time and again Will-o'-the- 
 Wisp had them at his very door and time and again 
 Brownie, Cat-tail and Piggins were saved by the 
 thought that came to Brownie of someone to help. 
 
 At last Will-o'-the-Wisp grew angry and said to 
 himself, "There's no use trying to catch any of them, 
 I see, and there's a beam of light. The sun is coming 
 and I must run home," and he ran, growling and 
 grumbling, back to his gloomy swamp. Piggins saw 
 the beam of light first and cried, "It's time for my 
 breakfast. Good-by," and off he scampered to his 
 pen. You will be glad to know that after that night 
 he never cared whether his tail curled or not. 
 
 Brownie and Cat-tail looked at each other in sur- 
 prise. Brownie was covered from head to foot with 
 the soft down from Cat-tail's coat and Cat-tail, with 
 only a little of her brown coat left, stood straight and 
 
14 BROWNIE ANL CAT-TAIL. 
 
 happy as ever, her slender green blades waving 
 gently in the morning breeze. 
 
 "Why, it's morning," said Brownie, "and we have 
 been so busy we haven't had time for a bit of play." 
 They went home, however, feeling that they had had 
 a very happy time after all. 
 
THE MAGNET'S CHOICE. 
 
 Mrs. Goldpin lived with her cousin, Miss Silver- 
 pin, in a blue satin cushion that was trimmed with 
 dainty white lace and had a gay little bow at each 
 corner. 
 
 Mrs. Goldpin and Miss Silverpin were so vain as 
 to think the blue satin cushion was made on purpose 
 for them, so when the Brasspins came to live there, 
 they didn't like it at all. . 
 
 "Keally," complained Mrs. Goldpin, "I should 
 think they'-d know better than to come here. Why, 
 they're nothing but common brass !" 
 
 "It is too bad," said Miss Silverpin; "but then 
 you know, cousin, we need have nothing to do with 
 them." 
 
 A few nights after that, Mrs. Goldpin met the 
 Brasspins at a party ; and the next morning she said 
 to Miss Silverpin : 
 
 "I think, my dear, we may as well make friends 
 with the Brasspins; I met them last night at Mrs. 
 Bonton's, so they must be nice people after all." 
 
 Miss Silverpin agreed with Mrs. Goldpin, and that 
 
 15 
 
16 THE MAGNET'S CHOICE. 
 
 very hour they spoke to the Brasspins, and soon they 
 were all good friends. 
 
 One day the mistress came into the room, and put 
 some shining cambric needles and a small darning 
 needle in the cushion. 
 
 Upon this, Mrs. Goldpin screamed as if she were in 
 pain ; then Miss Silverpin screamed as if she were in 
 pain ; and the Brasspins screamed as if they were in 
 pain. . 
 
 "Dreadful!" said Mrs. Goldpin. "Needles coming 
 to live with us ! Why, I've been told they work for a 
 living." 
 
 "And I suppose they never went to a party in their 
 lives!" said Miss Silverpin. 
 
 "Nor to the Auditorium to a concert!" said the 
 Brasspins. 
 
 "I shall not speak to them at all," said Mrs. Gold- 
 pin. 
 
 "Nor I," said Miss Silverpin. . 
 
 "No more will we, neither," said the Brasspinsy 
 who did not always speak correctly. 
 
 The cambric needles and the darning-needle had 
 not heard them, and they were very much pleased to 
 find themselves in such a pretty place. 
 
 "That is a kind lady," said one, "to give us such 
 a fine cushion to rest in." 
 
THE MAGNET'S CHOICE. 17 
 
 "I'm sure she ought to," said the darning-needle; 
 "those children of hers wear me out with the heels 
 and toes of their Stockings; and how that Tommy 
 manages to get such big holes right where his knees 
 come, is more than I can tell." 
 
 As soon as the needles looked around, they saw 
 Mrs. Goldpin, Miss Silverpin, and the Brasspins, and 
 being very polite, they said "Good morning !" 
 
 No one answered. Mrs. Goldpin looked out of 
 the window as if she hadn't heard; Miss Silverpin 
 looked up at the ceiling as if she hadn't heard; and 
 the Brasspins looked down at the floor as if thev 
 hadn't heard. 
 
 "Strange!" said the needles, "they don't mean to 
 speak to us." 
 
 They had been so busy all their lives, making 
 clothes for little girls and boys, they had never found 
 out that some people who do not work look down 
 upon others who do. 
 
 But they did not speak to their fine neighbors 
 again. Indeed, they never thought of them at all, 
 they had such pleasant times by themselves, on their 
 own side of the cushion. 
 
 One afternoon the mistress came again, and this 
 time left a bright new horseshoe magnet beside the 
 cushion. 
 
18 THE MAGNET'S CHOICE. 
 
 "What splendid creature is that?" said Mrs. Gold- 
 pin. "Why, he's looking right at me !" 
 
 "Isn't he fine?" said Miss Silverpin ; "but he seems 
 to be looking right at me." 
 
 "How grand !" said the Brasspins. "Surely he came 
 to see us." 
 
 The horseshoe magnet lay there all the afternoon 
 and evening, looking very smart and -knowing, but 
 not saying a word; although Mrs. Goldpin, Miss Sil- 
 verpin, and the Brasspins tried very hard to get him 
 to notice them. 
 
 By and by the lights were put out, and the house 
 was still. 
 
 Mrs. Goldpin was just getting into a doze when 
 she heard a strange sound beside her on the dresser. 
 
 "What's that, cousin?" she whispered to Miss 
 Silverpin. "Do you hear it?" 
 
 Miss Silverpin listened, and again came the sound 
 —clump, clump, clump, along the top of the dresser. 
 
 "Mercy on us!" said Miss Silverpin; "it's that 
 magnet. He's coming right up here." 
 
 Before Mrs. Goldpin could answer, the magnet 
 stood before them. He made a low bow, and said : 
 
 "Excuse me for disturbing you, ladies. I'm going 
 on a trip to the northern lights, and am looking about 
 for some one to take with me." 
 
THE MAGNET'S CHOICE. 
 
 19 
 
 Then Mrs. Goldpin, Miss Silverpin, and the Brass 
 pins were in a great flutter. 
 
 "He'll take me, of course," whispered Mrs. Gold 
 pin* 
 
 "Yes, and me too," said Miss Silverpin. 
 
 "Surely he'll want us," thought the Brasspins. 
 
 "Thank you, sir," spoke Mrs. Goldpin, politely. 
 "Miss Silverpin and I will be very glad to go with 
 you." 
 
 "You're very kind, indeed!" said the Brasspins; 
 "we can go in a moment." 
 
 "But," said the magnet, "you're not the ones I 
 want ; I'll see who's on the other side of the cushion ;" 
 and away he clumped. 
 
 Mrs. Goldpin was so astonished that she couldn't 
 speak ; so were Miss Silverpin and the Brasspins. 
 
 They heard the magnet go up to the needles; then 
 
20 THE MAGNET'S CHOICE. 
 
 came a joyful little cry : "Oh, here is our old friend. 
 How glad we are to see you, Magnet !" and. the needles, 
 one and all, fairly jumped from the cushion and clung 
 to him. 
 
 The magnet was just as glad to see them, and 
 started off at once, taking them with him. 
 
 "Well, I never!" gasped Mrs. Goldpin, as she 
 watched them leave the room. 
 
 "To think of those common needles being chosen !" 
 
 "That magnet doesn't know what he's about!" 
 snapped the Brasspins. 
 
 But he did, though; and when he left the mis- 
 tress's house that night he had picked up the jolliest 
 kind of a party. There were a shingle-nail, a button- 
 hook, some carpet tacks, a hairpin, a key, and even a 
 pair of scissors, beside the needles. 
 
 I think the northern lights heard they were com-' 
 ing, for they made a great display in the sky that 
 evening ; and- if the horseshoe magnet and his friends 
 ever come back, I hope they'll tell us how it was done. 
 
FISH OR FROGS. 
 
 There was once a family of frogs living in a pond 
 in the warm country, which was so ill-natured in all 
 , its talk, that the voice of each member of the family 
 had grown harsh and disagreeable; these frogs could 
 not even sing sweetly, they had so spoiled their voices 
 with fretting and scolding. 
 
 At last the people living near this pond named the 
 family "Blacksmith Frogs," their voices clanged and 
 clashed so like the anvils and hammers of black- 
 smiths. 
 
 In another pond, not far away, lived another fam- 
 ily of frogs, which never scolded ; the mother always 
 spoke gently to her children, and the children spoke 
 softly to. one another; when they sang, not one of 
 them strained its voice or wrinkled its face with 
 
 screaming ; and the people so enjoyed their soft musi- 
 i 
 cal piping, that they called them "Sugar-miller 
 
 Frogs," because their voices were not unlike the 
 
 sound made by the mills in grinding the sweet, juicy 
 
 corn and beets to get the sugar from them. 
 
 One day Mrs. Blacksmith Frog went to see Mrs. 
 
 21 
 
22 
 
 FISH OR FROGS. 
 
 Sugar-miller Frog, and as 
 soon as she was inside the 
 door, she began in a loud, 
 harsh voice : "I'm sure I 
 don't believe we shall have 
 any weather fit for hatch- 
 ing eggs this year! I 
 never saw the little boys 
 behave so badly in my life ! 
 When the sun comes out it 
 scorches, and when the 
 clouds come along, the 
 water grows too cold for 
 grown frogs, to say noth- 
 ing of babies !" 
 
 Mrs. Sugar-miller Frog 
 had had no chance to 
 speak yet, but Mrs. Black- 
 smith Frog stopped for 
 breath, while she twitched 
 angrily at her bonnet 
 strings, and Mrs. Sugar : 
 miller Frog hurriedly, but 
 most gently, began : 
 
 "I really thought the 
 weather quite pleasant. I 
 
FISH OR FROGS. 23 
 
 am sure my eggs are doing nicely, — just see them ! 
 here they are under this broad lily leaf, — and some 
 kind-hearted boys threw me this shingle, on which I 
 can float about when the sun shines, or under which I 
 can sit when it rains; when the sun is too warm, Mr. 
 Frog pushes it under those willow branches for me." 
 
 Mrs. Blacksmith Frog had been angry with the 
 boys who threw a shingle in her pond, and she went 
 home to scold Mr. Blacksmith Frog because he did 
 not push her about the pond on a shingle, and Mr. 
 Blacksmith Frog scolded her because she did not get 
 home in time to get his dinner; and with all the 
 scolding they nearly forgot to attend to the eggs. 
 
 Both frog mothers stayed at home some time after 
 this, to attend to their eggs; but one morning Mrs.^ 
 Sugar-miller Frog ran over to Mrs. Blacksmith Frog, 
 to tell a wonderful story of how her eggs^ had" all 
 hatched, and instead of bottle-green baby frogs, she 
 had a large family of young fish ! 
 
 "Fish! horrid fish!" exclaimed Mrs. Blacksmith 
 Frog. "I'd be ashamed to say it, and I don't believe 
 you know fish from frogs !" 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Blacksmith Frog hurried over to their 
 neighbor's pond, and looked at the babies with much 
 disapproval, for they surely looked less like frogs than 
 like fish. 
 
24 'FISH OR FROGS. 
 
 Mrs. Sugar-miller Frog was very cheerful, saying 
 she was fond of her babies anyway, and she felt sure it 
 would be pleasant to have fish in the family; they had 
 many advantages over frogs, and look at them as you 
 might, they were the dearest, prettiest- babies in the 
 world ! 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Blacksmith Frog went scolding home- 
 ward, much disgusted with frogs who were not con- 
 tented in their own sphere, but wanted to look like 
 fish, and get into, society in which they did not belong. 
 
 What was their surprise, on arriving at their own 
 pond, to find that their eggs had hatched, and their 
 
 ■ 
 
 babies looked as much like fish as did their neigh- 
 bor's? 
 
 Mrs. Blacksmith Frog shook her babies, and 
 scolded, until Mr. Blacksmith Frog buried himself in 
 the mud for three days, where he kept up such a 
 grumbling and growling that the people thought they 
 would have to move away. 
 
 One day Mrs. Blacksmith Frog was so frightened 
 at something that happened to her babies that she for- 
 got to open her mouth until she was inside her neigh- 
 bor's door, and then she talked and cried both at once : 
 
 "Mrs. Sugar-miller Frog! My babies are neither 
 fish — nor— frogs ! they are horrid boys ! I know they 
 are, for they have — two legs !" 
 
PISH OR FROGS. 25 
 
 "I would not cry," answered Mrs. Sugar-miller 
 Prog. "I find my children seem to be boys, too, but 
 I am not grieved. I like the little boys I have seen 
 about here. We ought to be pleased if our children 
 are to be men." 
 
 Mrs. Blacksmith Frog went home, and made her 
 husband and children quite unhappy with her fault- 
 finding, until one day she found two more legs push- 
 ing out from the body of her oldetst child; then she 
 called him a naughty child for not telling her in the 
 first place that he was going to have four legs, instead 
 of letting her think he was going to be a biped. 
 
 She now insisted that the children should all sit 
 with her on the shingle in the sun, to hasten the 
 sprouting of the new legs; but they could not obey 
 her, for any child knows that sitting in the sunshine 
 would quite kill a soft little tadpole. 
 
 One day the youngest baby seemed hoarse, and 
 when Mrs. Blacksmith Frog opened its little mouth to 
 look in its throat, the mouth fell off in her hand. 
 She tried to put it back, but the other children saw at 
 once that the baby looked more like his papa without 
 his little beak-like mouth, and they took their own 
 mouths off, and stood there with funny, wide-open 
 jaws, looking so much like their own scolding parents, 
 
26 FISH OR FROGS. 
 
 that their mother could not send them to bed without 
 their supper, as slie had threatened. 
 
 One morning these little tadpoles came in a row 
 for their breakfast, eager to tell their mamma that 
 they had left their tails behind them. They were as 
 pleased as a small boy with his first trousers; but 
 their mamma had formed such a habit of fault-find- 
 ing, that now they stood before her, perfect -little 
 frogs, she had no pleasant words for them, but began 
 a complaint about their carelessness in dropping the 
 tails about in the bottom of the pond, and expressed 
 many doleful fears lest the pond should be filled with 
 a load of useless tails. 
 
 With this new trouble she went to Mrs. Sugar- 
 miller Frog, who said : 
 
 "I am so happy! I was pleased with the aspect 
 of my fish children ; I was not sorry when I thought 
 them boys; but now that they are becoming frogs, so 
 like ourselves, I am so happy I sing all night for joy." 
 
 But Mrs. Blacksmith Prog made such loud and 
 bitter complaints, that the people who lived near her 
 pond heartily wished she "would move to South 
 America; but she never did. 
 
WHAT BEOKB THE CHINA PITCHER. 
 
 It was a winter night, — still, bright and cold. 
 The wagon wheels and footsteps creaked loudly as 
 they ground into the crisp snow, and even the great 
 solemn moon looked frosty and cold. 
 
 Katrina stood by the sitting-room window, look- 
 ing out. 
 
 "Going to be a dreadful night," said papa, stir- 
 ring the fire; "it's getting colder every minute." 
 
 "Is it?" said mamma. "Then, Katrina, you must 
 run upstairs and empty the china pitcher in the spare 
 room." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," said Katrina, still looking out into 
 the moonlight; but she didn't go and mamma went 
 on rocking baby to sleep. 
 
 Fifteen minutes passed. Baby was going to "By- 
 low Land" very fast, and mamma spoke again : 
 
 "Come, Katrina, go and see to the pitcher, — that's 
 a good girl. It was grandma's Christmas present, 
 you know, and I wouldn't have it broken for any- 
 thing." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," said Katrina again; "I'll go in a 
 minute." 
 
 27 
 
28 WHAT BROKE THE CHINA PITCHER. 
 
 "Well, dear, be sure to remember," said mamma; 
 and she went off to put baby into her crib. At that 
 moment in came Jamie with a pair of shining new 
 skates, and Katrina forgot all about the pitcher as 
 soon as she saw them. Just outside the window stood 
 'the cold, -listening and watching; and now he 
 chuckled, and snapped his icy fingers. 
 
 "That little girl will never empty the pitcher," 
 he said" to himself; "she's one of the careless kind. 
 Oh, I know them ! So now, little miss, I'll just slip 
 in and punish you for forgetting. Let's see ! 'the spare 
 room' — that's for company. I'll go and spend the 
 night in it. Where is it, I wonder. I'll hunt it up." 
 He knew better than to try and get into the cozy sit- 
 ting room, with its bright fire^ so he slipped softly 
 around the house and peeped through the kitchen 
 window. 
 
 Inside was a large stove glowing with heat, and a 
 teakettle sending out a cloud of steam. 
 
 He shook his head, and muttered: "That's no 
 place for me; the heat in there would kill me in a 
 minute; I'll look farther." 
 
 He went on, peeping into one window after 
 another, until he saw a room with no fire and a closed 
 register. "Ah," he 1 whispered, "this must be the place. 
 Yes, there's the very pitcher I'm going to break; and 
 
WHAT BROKE THE CHINA PITCHER. 29 
 
 as sure as I'm alive, if here isn't a fine crack to let 
 me in !" So in he went. 
 
 "It's a pretty room," he said, "and it seems a pity 
 to spoil such a handsome pitcher; but Katrina 
 shouldn't have left the water in it." 
 
 He stole noiselessly along, chilling everything he 
 touched, until he reached the washstand. Up the 
 stand he went, nearer and hearer to the pitcher, until 
 he could loot into it. •"Not much water," he whis- 
 pered, "but I'll make it do;" and he spread his icy 
 fingers over it. 
 
 The water shivered and shrank back, but the icy 
 fingers pressed harder. "Oh !" cried the water, "I'm 
 so cold !" and it shrank more and more. 
 
 Very soon it called out, "If you don't go away, 
 Cold, I shall certainly freeze." 
 
 "Good!" laughed the cold. "That's just what I 
 want you to do." 
 
 All at once the air was filled with many little 
 voices that seemed to come from the pitcher, sharp 
 and -clnar, like tinkling sleigh bells in Fairyland. 
 
 "Hurrah !" they cried. "The cold is going to make 
 us into beautiful crystals. Oh, won't it be jolly, jolly, 
 jolly!" 
 
 At that the cold pushed his fingers straight into the 
 water, and it began to freeze. Then such a won- 
 
30 
 
 WHAT BROKE THE CHINA PITCHER. 
 
 derf ul thing happened ! The drops began arranging 
 themselves in rows and lines, that everywhere crossed 
 each other; but in doing so -they pushed so hard 
 against the pitcher that it cried out : 
 
 \TinVnV3 - KatrinA Dtoir° UT3UUU 
 
 i 
 
 pok n-C/'Merve. 6t'/iert 
 
 "Please stop pushing me so hard ; -I'm afraid I shall 
 break." 
 
 "We can't," said the drops. "We're freezing, and 
 must have more room ;" and they kept on spreading 
 and arranging themselves." 
 
 The poor pitcher groaned, and called again, "Don't ! 
 don't! I can't stand it;" but it did no good. The 
 
WHAT BROKE THE CHINA PITCHER. 31 
 
 drops only repeated, "We can't help it, we must have 
 room ;" and they pushed so steadily and strongly that 
 at last, with a loud cry, the poor pitcher cracked. 
 
 The cold looked around to see if there was any 
 more mischief he could do. When he found there was 
 none, he stole softly away through the crack in the 
 window. 
 
 Just outside was Jack Frost, hunting for a good 
 place to hang his pictures. The cold told him about 
 the pitcher, and away they went, laughing as if it 
 were a good joke. 
 
 Upstairs in her snug little bed lay Katrina, dream 
 ing that grandma's pitcher was dancing on top of 
 mamma's piano, in brother Jamie's new skates. 
 
ECHO ELVES. 
 
 A long time ago there was a river, which flowed 
 between high, rocky walls on its way to the sea. 
 These rocky walls were filled with Echo Elves. They 
 clung to every crag and point of rock along the river. 
 
 The Echo Elves were always listening and watch- 
 ing for sounds; when they caught one, they played 
 ball with it until the poor little sound was worn out. 
 Twice each week a steamboat came down the river, 
 and the Echo Elves caught the sound of its whistle as 
 soon as the steamboat neared the rocky walls where 
 they lived. 
 
 The -first Elf sent it bounding across the river to the 
 second ; he threw it back. A third caught and sent it 
 to the fourth, and so on. Back and forth it went, 
 until, if you had been on the steamboat, and had never 
 heard of the Echo Elves, you might have thought 
 there were a dozen whistles, all going off at once. 
 
 The Echo Elves never tired of their play. Win- 
 ter or summer, day and night, it was always the same. 
 The sound of the hunter's gun, the shout of a boy, 
 
 the cry of a bird — they caught them all. 
 
 32 
 
ECHO ELVES. 
 
 33 
 
 croK^.cGiifcgri-ss vi sz sa xJ—i 
 
 The river very soon learned 
 how the Echo' Elves spent 
 their tima It heard so many 
 sounds as it rolled slowly 
 along, and listened so care- 
 fully, it found out that a 
 sound was not quite so clear 
 and loud after the Echo 
 Elves had caught it, as be- 
 fore, and that the more they 
 tossed it about, the fainter it 
 became. 
 
 You must not think the 
 Echo Elves by the river are 
 the only ones that ever lived. 
 Bless you, no! the whole 
 world is full of them. They 
 cling to the sides of houses 
 and walls, are on the streets 
 and walks, and are found even 
 in the clouds, helping to make 
 thunder. Sometimes they hide 
 about small lakes in the 
 
34 ECHO ELVES. 
 
 country, where they lie in wait for the songs and 
 laughter of people who are out boating, and some- 
 times they creep into large, empty buildings, where 
 they have fine sport with the sounds of the workmen. 
 
 Now I must tell you of a party of Echo Elves who 
 lived in a country where the people were building a 
 castle for their king. 
 
 This castle was to have a fine music room for the 
 king's daughter, who was very fond of music. The 
 Echo Elves heard of it, and as they, too, were very 
 fond of music, they agreed to find this room and live 
 there. 
 
 "We'll have a concert every day," said they, "if 
 the princess will only practice enough." 
 
 Away they flew to the castle, where they were 
 soon hanging all over the walls of the music room. 
 
 The next day in came the servants who were to 
 prepare the room for the princess, and the very first 
 thing they did was to cover the walls with lovely 
 curtains. 
 
 Poor little Echo Elves! Their fun was spoiled; 
 for although they could hear the sound of the piano or 
 harp, when "the princess played they could not catch 
 a single tone. 
 
 As I have never heard of their leaving the castle, 
 I suppose they are there to this day, hidden behind 
 the curtains in the princess' music room. 
 
The Little Black Crickets. 
 
 fg^i 
 
 £e£ 
 
 « — at- 
 
 1. The lit - tie black crick-ets are sing - ing a song, With 
 
 2. The lit - tie black crick-ets are sing - ing a gain, 2 
 
 3. The lit - tie black crick-ets are hap py and gay, Thro' 
 
 -^ r\ 
 
 £* 
 
 P^S 
 
 i=ft 
 
 voic - es low and clear, They say: ''You must al - ways 
 
 Listen! their song to hear, "Lit-tle chil dren, love each 
 
 clouds and sun-shine blight, "Good morning!" they chirp at 
 
 M 
 
 * 
 
 E3 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 fe^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 g 
 
 do your best, Do your best, lit - tie chil - dren dear. ' ' 
 other," they say, With voic es low and clear, 
 
 peep of day, And at eve, "Good - night, good night!" 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 §E 
 
THE FAIRY MERCURY. 
 
 Fairy Mercury wore a dress of silvery white. 
 Because she looked so much like silver, and could 
 move about so quickly, a great many people called 
 her Quicksilver; but that was not her real name. 
 That was the fairy Mercury. 
 
 She lived in the queerest kind of a house. There 
 were only a glass ball about as large as a pea, for the 
 basement, and a slender glass tube above it for the 
 second and third floors. 
 
 This odd little house was fastened in a frame, and 
 hung outside the front door of a cottage. 
 
 The people who lived in the cottage seemed very 
 fond of the fairy Mercury; at least they came and 
 looked at her every day. She imagined it was because 
 they thought her so pretty, but you and I know bet- 
 ter, do we not? 
 
 The fairy Mercury was something like a worm in 
 one thing; she could stretch herself until she reached , 
 away up the glass tube, and could also shorten her 
 body until her head was not far from the little ball. 
 I think she disliked cold weather, for when winter 
 came she never climbed very high in her glass tube, 
 
 36 
 
THE FAIRY MERCURY. 37 
 
 and when it was very cold, she drew nearer and nearer 
 to the glass ball. 
 
 Then the people seemed to think more of her than 
 ever, and the fairy Mercury was often greatly puzzled 
 to know why they said such strange things when 
 they looked at her. 
 
 Sometimes they called out: "Freezing!" "What 
 do they mean by that?" said the fairy Mercury. "Do 
 they think I'm freezing? Well, I'm not. It takes a 
 great deal to freeze me, I can tell them." 
 
 Then again, when it was very, very cold, and 
 everybody was hurrying to get indoors, almost every 
 one who looked at her said : "Zero," or "Five below." 
 Even people on the street ran up the cottage steps, 
 took a peep at her, and went off saying the same 
 thing : "Zero," "Three below," "Five below." It was 
 very strange, the fairy Mercury thought; but as no 
 one hurt her she didn't care how often they looked. 
 
 When spring came, with its warm breezes and blue 
 skies, she grew livelier, and crept up to the second 
 floor of her house, where she spent most of her time 
 looking out. 
 
 She enjoyed watching the birds build their nests, 
 the leaves come out on the trees, and the man plant- 
 ing seeds in the flower bed before the cottage door. 
 As the weather grew warmer, she climbed higher and 
 
38 THE FAIRY MERCURY. 
 
 higher, and the higher she went, the more people 
 noticed her. 
 
 Then came the summer. It was very hot, and so 
 dry that the grass, the lovely roses, and even the 
 great elm trees were all crying for water. Gentlemen 
 went past with large umbrellas over their heads; 
 ladies sat oh porches fanning, and all the children 
 wore their very thinnest and coolest clothing to 
 school. 
 
 The fairy Mercury kept oh climbing, and was 
 noticed more than ever. Indeed, there seemed always 
 to be some one looking at her; and they said just as 
 queer things as they did in winter. For a whole 
 week she heard them say, "Ninety!" "Ninety-two!" 
 or ."Ninety-five!" and one very hot day they said, 
 "One hundred two in the shade! how can we ever 
 stand it?" and they groaned and wiped their faces, 
 again and again. 
 
 "These are strange people," said the fairy Mer- 
 cury; "they really act as if I had something to do with 
 the weather; but I haven't. Yet, somehow, heat 
 always makes me want to climb, and cold makes me 
 shrink." 
 
 When autumn came, with its fruits and nuts, she 
 dropped down to the first floor of her little house, 
 where she had spent the springtime. Now she looked 
 
THE FAIRY MERCURY. 39 
 
 out upon the leaves as they fell, and the gardener as 
 he gathered his seeds. One day she heard the robins 
 chirping "Good-bye." 
 
 "Ah," said the fairy Mercury, "summer has gone, 
 sure enough." Then the days grew colder, and she 
 
 dropped lower and lower in the glass tube, until 
 another winter came. 
 
 So you see, that as both heat and cold moved her, 
 she went up and down in her little house a great many 
 times each year. Did you ever see the fairy Mercury 
 or her glass house? Did you ever watch her move? 
 Do you know what we caJJLthe fairy and her house? 
 
THE LITTLE BEOWN SEED. 
 
 Down in the middle of a large garden there lay a 
 small brown seed. It had been there quite a long 
 time, and yet it could remember when it swung from 
 a flower stalk, in a dainty seed vessel with several 
 other seeds. 
 
 It often thought of the sunny autumn day when 
 a little lamb ran through the garden and brushed so 
 roughly against the flower stalk that the seed vessel 
 broke and let the seeds, out. 
 
 Two dropped on the lamb's back, where they were 
 caught and carried off in the wool. The others fell 
 on the ground, but soon a bright-eyed robin spied 
 them. She took two, and that left the one that I am 
 telling you of, alone. 
 
 It lay there for a whole day and night; then the 
 gardener came with his rake and hoe, to prepare the 
 garden for winter, and the little brown seed found, 
 itself covered with an inch or two of black soil. 
 Above that was a layer of straw, and over all, some 
 boards; so the brown seed was safely sheltered from 
 the wildest storm that winter could send. 
 
 40 
 
THE LITTLE BROWN SEED. 
 
 41 
 
 §P W } 
 
 
 It was warm and snug 
 there, but very, dark, and 
 at first it felt ■ afraid and 
 lonesome; for you see it had 
 always lived in the bright 
 sunshine with its brothers 
 and sisters. 
 
 But soon it found it was 
 not alone. All about it were 
 slender little rootlets, who, 
 when they saw the brown 
 seed, said, "How do you do, 
 little Seed? We are glad to 
 see you." 
 
 "Oh," answered the seed; 
 "then you can talk ; I am glad 
 of that, for I am a little' 
 afraid here; it's so dark." 
 The rootlets all laughed at 
 that. 
 
 "The idea," they said, "of 
 being afraid of good Mother 
 Earth! Why, she is one of 
 our best friends, and takes 
 such good care of us, that we 
 are never hungry nor cold. 
 
 *#WJmmm4B3& 
 
42 THE LITTLE BROWN SEED. 
 
 And you thought you were alone ! That's a good joke, 
 too," went on the rootlets. "To be sure it's not as 
 lively here as it is in summer, for now we're all rest- 
 ing or asleep." 
 
 "Why," said the brown seed, looking around, "what 
 else is here? I don't see anything." 
 
 "No," answered the rootlets, "you don't see the 
 crickets, wasps, ants, and other insects that are here, 
 because they are all asleep in the wonderful little 
 caves they make for themselves. Yes, and the earth- 
 worms, too." 
 
 "Ugh!" said the seed, with a shiver, "you don't 
 mean to say that I must stay here with those horrid 
 crawling worms! I couldn't bear to have one come 
 near me." 
 
 "Oh, what a foolish little seed," laughed the root- 
 lets again. "Horrid, indeed ! I'm afraid we'd all have 
 a hard time of it trying to grow, if the earthworms 
 didn't help us. Don't you know that they crawl up 
 and down, through the ground, and keep it so light 
 and soft that it is easy for us to get through?" 
 
 "No," answered the seed ; "I didn't know that. Now 
 what do you do down here?" 
 
 "Oh, we belong to that fine lilac bush near the 
 garden wall. Just now we're resting, for it's winter, 
 you know ; but when spring comes, we shall all go to 
 
THE LITTLE BROWN SEED. 43 
 
 w >rk. The lilac bush will be very busy changing its 
 buds to leaves, flowers, and branches, and we shall 
 have all we can do, gathering up the juices Mother 
 Earth gives us, and sending them up to be made into 
 sap for the buds and branches to feed on." 
 
 "And what shall I do when spring comes?" said 
 the seed. 
 
 "You'll have to work, too," answered a little rootlet 
 that had crept very close to it. "I expect spring will 
 want you to make a flower." 
 
 "But I don't know how." 
 
 "Oh, that's nothing," said the rootlet. "She will 
 send little messengers of hers to help you. Never 
 fear ; you'll know how when the time comes." 
 
 The brown seed felt better after this talk with the 
 rootlets, and was quite contented to lie there in the 
 dark, and wait for spring. 
 
 Sometimes it could hear, very faintly, the icy 
 raindrops or hail beating upon the boards overhead, 
 or the howling of the winter wind; but it lay curled 
 up cozy and warm in Mother Earth's arms, and didn't 
 mind at all. 
 
 Oh, they had pleasant times down there in the 
 dark, I can tell you, and the brown seed learned a 
 great many things it never knew before. The rootlets 
 were great talkers, and told many funny stories about 
 
44 THE LITTLE BROWN SEED. 
 
 the way in which they crawled around in summer, 
 over and under large stones, sometimes running 
 against each other, but always keeping their mouths 
 open to catch food for the lilac buds and branches- 
 above ground. 
 
 Then there was a large bulb. One day it began 
 to talk, and the seed heard it say, "I do hope there 
 are no wood mice about." 
 
 "Why do you say that?" asked the seed. 
 
 "Because," said the bulb, "if one of them gets 
 very hungry, I'm afraid he'll leave his warm nest and 
 nibble me." 
 
 "You needn't be afraid," called out a rootlet ; "there 
 are none in this part of the garden. I saw a mole 
 creep past last fall, but he'll not trouble us as long 
 as he can find earthworms. Poor things! they are 
 dreadfully afraid of moles." 
 
 And the worms themselves! The brown seed 
 was never tired of hearing how they made burrows for 
 their pretty pink bodies, and lined them with fine 
 earth ; how they dragged dead leaves into them, and 
 how they were now curled up snugly at the bottom, 
 sleeping, like everything else in this underground 
 world. 
 
 Then there were hundreds of eggs all about, ready 
 for hatching when warm weather came. 
 
THE LITTLE BROWN SEED. 45 
 
 Indeed, I cannot tell you half the curious things 
 the little seed saw and heard during the winter. 
 
 So the weeks and months passed away, until one 
 day they heard a scraping sound overhead, and knew 
 that spring had come, and the gardener was uncover- 
 ing the beds: 
 
 Very soon after that, the lilacs sent word to the 
 rootlets that it was time to go to work. Then the 
 brown seed said, "Maybe spring will send to me now." 
 And even while it spoke there came a soft, pattering 
 sound, very sweet and low; the warm raindrops gath- 
 ered all about it and sang, "We've come, little Seed, 
 to help you grow." The seed tasted the drops, and 
 liked them so much that it drank enough to make it 
 quite soft, and its skin began to crack. "Hello!" it 
 cried, "I feel like getting out of this shell and trying 
 to grow; but I'll wait a little longer; perhaps spring 
 will send me another message." And before the day 
 passed, tbe corner where the seed lay was filled with 
 a strange warmth, and again it heard little voices 
 singing. This time they said : 
 
 "From the golden sun with its fiery glow 
 We've come, little Seed, to help you grow." 
 
 "Well, well," said the seed, "raindrops and sun- 
 beams to help me. Wonder if there's anything else." 
 And the dear Mother Earth that had held it so 
 
46 THE LITTLE BROWN SEED. 
 
 safely all winter, whispered, "I, too, little Seed, will 
 help you grow." 
 
 "Surely," said the seed, "I can grow with so much 
 help." So it bravely went to work, and with the help 
 of the raindrops, broke its shell and sent out the 
 tenderest little stem you ever saw. I don't know how 
 it knew that the stem should turn upward, unless 
 the sunbeams told it, but upward it started, and at 
 the same time a slender rootlet started downward, 
 to be ready for the food Mother Earth would give it 
 when the seed had eaten all it had inside its skin. 
 
 Oh, how hard the brown seed did work, and how 
 happy it was, pushing its stem and rootlets through 
 the soil, until one April morning it reached the light! 
 Then the sunbeams laughed, and danced with joy. 
 
 The world looked very lovely to the newcomer! 
 Overhead was a bright blue sky filled with soft clouds, 
 a warm breeze was blowing, and all about it were 
 other tender plants that had just pushed out of the 
 earth. 
 
 They were all pale and weak, but the sun shone 
 so brightly that they soon felt stronger, and grfiw 1 
 very fast with the help of sunbeams, Mother Earth, 
 and the dear little raindrops. 
 
 Now the lilac roots had no small brown seed to talk 
 with, for you know part of it was making leaves and 
 
THE LITTLE BROWN SEED. 47 
 
 stems above ground, and the rest had grown into 
 many rootlets, that were searching about gathering 
 up juices with their little mouths, for the growing 
 plant. 
 
 Every day it grew higher and stronger, and un- 
 folded leaves so fast that the little rootlets down in the 
 dark were kept busy finding food for it, and one day 
 when the little lamb again ran through the garden, 
 it saw a flower bud among the pretty green leaves; 
 and just a few T days later, what do you suppose was 
 swinging in the morning breeze in place of the bud 
 the little lamb saw? Guess. 
 
Little Brown Seed. 
 
 |P 
 
 S 
 
 n; 
 
 i 
 
 =i=j 
 
 I. 
 
 A 
 
 lit - tie seed, small 
 
 and roundj 
 
 Down in the 
 
 2. 
 
 The 
 
 lit - tie seed kept 
 
 quite still, 
 
 List'ning un- 
 
 3. 
 
 The 
 
 lit - tie seed said 
 
 to him-self: 
 
 "Won-der who 
 
 ijH 
 
 3; 
 
 ground, 
 
 Sleep - ing 
 
 so 
 
 co - sy and 
 
 warm, 
 
 til 
 
 Voic - es 
 
 of 
 
 sun beams 
 
 shy, 
 
 else 
 
 Has 
 
 a 
 
 mes-sage for 
 
 me, 
 
 i 
 
 Hi 
 
 ££^! 
 
 Safe from 
 
 all 
 
 -storm, 
 
 Heard 
 
 wee 
 
 rain - drops whis - per 
 
 Came from 
 
 the 
 
 sky, 
 
 
 The 
 
 gold - en sun with 
 
 I'll wait 
 
 and 
 
 see;" 
 
 And 
 
 the 
 
 voice of earth said 
 
 m^mmm 
 
 3=^=? 
 
 low: 
 fier • 
 
 "We've come lit - tie seed, 
 y glow, Sends us lit - tie seed, 
 
 help you grow."; 
 help you grow." 
 
 "Don't you know That I, lit - tie seed, will help you grow?"' 
 
- LIFE OF A BUTTERFLY. 
 
 One time on a beautiful bright day in May, a lovely 
 buttei fly waked, and came out of her snug warm 
 cradlo, where she had been sleeping all winter. She 
 rested awhile on the twig of a tree, and then flew 
 off ii? to the clear air. She felt so happy and strong 
 with her beautiful wings! She felt as if she could 
 almost fly up into the blue sky. But she was hungry, 
 and began to look for something to eat. She found 
 the dew for drink, and oh! such delicious honey in 
 the f owers. 
 
 Tbere was never anyone happier than she. So 
 she lived and flew about in the warm sunshine for 
 many summer days. At last, she began to look for a 
 place to lay the eggs which would one day be her 
 littli ones. She decided to put them all together on 
 a b'g juicy cabbage leaf, which she found in the gar- 
 ' den. 
 
 They had not been there long before the mamma 
 t>'dtterfly felt that she was not going to be one to take 
 i \re of her babies. She called to a quiet caterpillar 
 
 49 
 
50 LIFE OF A BUTTERFLY. 
 
 who was slowly crawling by, and asked if she could 
 hire her as a nurse for her dear children. 
 
 "See these tiny eggs," she said; "I don't know 
 how long it will be before they come to life ; but I have 
 been wondering who will take care of my little butter- 
 flies if I am not here. Will you, kind green Cater- 
 pillar? But you must be careful about what you give 
 them to eat. Of course you will not expect them to, 
 eat anything as coarse as your food ; they must have 
 honey and dew. And their little wings will be weak; 
 you must not let them fly too far, at first. Dear me ! 
 it is too bad that you do not fly yourself. But I have 
 no time to try to find another nurse. Dear, dear, I 
 am almost sorry I laid my eggs on a cabbage leaf! 
 What a place for baby butterflies! Still you will be 
 good and kind to my little ones, won't you, dear Cat- 
 terpillar? Here, take this gold dust from my wings 
 as your reward. You won't forget about the food, 
 will you?" 
 
 Then the beautiful butterfly flew to a cozy nook 
 and quietly folded her wings for the long, sweet rest 
 that mamma butterflies always have, . and this new 
 nurse, who had not had the chance to say yes or no to 
 this strange request, was left all alone beside the 
 eggs, 
 
 "A pretty one she has chosen !" thought the cater- 
 
LIFE OF A BUTTERFLY. 51 
 
 pillar. "It cannot be that she knew what she was 
 doing when she asked me to be the nurse ! 'A poor 
 crawling creature like me to bring up her dainty little 
 ones ! Did she think they would mind me, when they 
 feel the gay wings on their backs? AVhy, they can 
 fly away, wherever they choose! I cannot fly after 
 them. Ah, how silly she was, in spite of her beauti- 
 ful clothes, and the gold dust on her wings !" 
 
 But the butterfly was gone, and there lay the eggs 
 on the cabbage leaf ;- and the green caterpillar had 
 a kind heart, so she made up her mind to do the best 
 she could. She was too anxious to sleep that night. 
 She watched and walked about until daybreak, for 
 fear some harm should come to the little eggs. 
 
 In the morning she said: "I must ask advice of 
 some one! How should a crawling thing like me 
 know what to do?" But the next puzzle was, whom 
 should she ask? 
 
 Surely the shaggy dog could not tell her ! He often 
 came into the garden, but he was so big and rough 
 that he would whisk all the eggs off the cabbage leaf 
 with one brush of his tail, if she should ask him to 
 come and talk to her. No; she could not ask him 
 about baby butterflies! Then there was the cat — he 
 was quiet, to be sure, and often sat warming himself 
 in the sunshine, there by the apple tree, but he was 
 
52 LIFE OP A BUTTERFLY. 
 
 so selfish and indifferent! He looked as if he was 
 thinking of mice and fresh warm milk all the time. 
 There was no hope of advice from him. He would 
 never take the trouble to think about these eggs ! 
 
 "I wonder who is the wisest of all the creatures I 
 know," sighed the caterpillar, for she was in great 
 trouble. Then she thought, and thought, till at last 
 she thought about birds. She knew one, a lark, who 
 flew so very high that nobody could see where he 
 went to, so she decided that he must be very wise and 
 know a great deal, for he could fly so high ; and that 
 was the caterpillar's idea of perfect glory. 
 
 So she sent a messenger to the cornfield near by, 
 where the lark lived, and ask him to come and talk 
 with her. When he came she told him all, and asked 
 him how she was to feed and take care of little babies 
 so different from herself. 
 
 "Don't you think you can ask some one about it, 
 the next time you fly so high, dear Lark?" 
 
 The lark only answered, "Perhaps so," and soon 
 after went sailing and singing up into the bright blue 
 sky. By and by he was so far away the caterpillar 
 could hear his song no longer, and of course she could 
 not see him, for, poor thing, she never could see far at 
 any time; and looking up was so hard for her; even 
 when she raised her body as high as she could, which 
 
LIFE OP A BUTTERFLY. 53 
 
 she did now. But it was of no use, she could not see 
 the lark, so she dropped upon her legs again and 
 began her walk around the butterfly's eggs, eating a 
 bit of the cabbage leaf now and then as she went 
 along. 
 
 The lark was away so long, she began to worry 
 about it. "What a great while he has been gone!" 
 she cried. "I do wonder where he is now ! I would 
 give all my legs to know. He must have gone higher 
 than usual this time. I should like to know where he 
 goes, and what he hears in that blue sky! He 
 always sings when he goes up and when he comes 
 down, but he never lets the secret out. He is very, 
 very close !" 
 
 Then she took another turn around the eggs. 
 . At last she heard the lark's voice again, and 
 almo.st jumped for joy. He flew straight down into 
 the cabbage bed. 
 
 "News ! news ! good news, friend Caterpillar," sang 
 .the lark. "But the worst of it is, you won't believe 
 ' me." 
 
 "I believe all I am told," said the caterpillar, 
 hastily. 
 
 "Well, then, first of all, I will tell you what these 
 little creatures will want to eat. What do you think 
 it is going to be? Guess!" 
 
54 
 
 LIFE OF A BUTTERFLY. 
 
 "Why, dew and honey out of flowers," sighed the 
 caterpillar. 
 
 "No such thing, old lady! Guess again. Some- 
 thing simpler than that. Something that you can get 
 easily." 
 
 "1 can get nothing as easily as cabbage leaves," 
 said the poor caterpillar, in distress. 
 
 "Good! good! my dear friend," cried the lark in 
 glee. "You have guessed it. You are to feed them 
 with cabbage leaves." 
 
 "Never !" shouted the caterpillar. "It was their 
 mother's last request that I should do no such thing !" 
 
LIFE OF A BUTTERFLY. 55 
 
 "Well," said the lark, "why do you ask me about 
 it, and then doubt what I say? You have neither faith 
 nor trust." 
 
 "Oh, I belieye all I am told!" said the green cater- 
 pillar. 
 
 "No, you do not,'-' replied the lark. "You won't 
 believe what I say about the food, and that is only one 
 of the wonderful things I have to tell you. Why, 
 dear old lady, what do you think those little eggs will 
 turn out to be?" 
 
 "Butterflies, to be sure," said the caterpillar. 
 
 "No, ma'am! caterpillars!" sang the lark: "and 
 
 you will find it out in time." Then the lark flew 
 
 away, for he did not want to argue with his friend, the 
 
 : caterpillar ; but he knew she did not believe what he 
 
 told her. 
 
 "Oh, dear ! I thought the lark was wise and kind ; 
 but he is foolish and saucy instead. Maybe he went 
 up too high this time. It is a pity he should come 
 back so silly and rude. I am so sad and disappointed ! 
 What shall I do? Still, I do wonder what he sees 
 and does away up yonder," observed the caterpillar, 
 as she began once more her walking around the eggs. 
 
 "I would tell you, if you would believe me," sang 
 the lark, as he flew down into the garden again. 
 
 "I believe all I am told," repeated the caterpillar, 
 
56 LIFE OF A, BUTTERFLY. 
 
 with a grave look on her face, as if sh< were telling 
 the truth. 
 
 "Well, then I will tell you something else; for the 
 best of my news you have not heard : £ou will one 
 clay be a butterfly yourself!" 
 
 "Saucy bird!" exclaimed the caterpillar. "Why 
 do you make fun of me because I am poor and small, 
 and have no wings? Now you are cruel, as well as 
 foolish! Go away! I will ask no more advice of 
 you." 
 
 "I told you you would not believe me," replied the 
 lark. 
 
 The caterpillar insisted that she believed "any- 
 thing that was reasonable. But to tell me that but- 
 terflies' eggs are caterpillars, and that caterpillars 
 some day get wings and become butterflies— Lark, 
 that is such nonsense no one could believe .it ! You 
 know that could never be." 
 
 "I know no such thing," replied the lark. "I fly 
 over all the fields, and into the deep blue sky ; and I 
 see so many wonderful things, I don't see why this 
 could not be true also. Oh, dear Caterpillar, it is 
 because you crawl, and never get beyond your cab- 
 bage leaf that you think this is impossible." 
 
 "Nonsense!" shouted the caterpillar. "Look at my 
 long green body; look at my many legs, and then tell 
 
LIFE OF A BUTTERFLY. 57 
 
 me I shall one day have wings, and a painted, feathery 
 coat ! Nonsense! It is all nonsense, I say." 
 
 And so they talked, and came near having a quar- 
 rel because the caterpillar could not believe such a 
 wonderful tale; but. the happy lark called out: 
 
 "Well, my friend, some day you will know that 
 what I say is true. Good-bye!" And he sailed off 
 again. 
 
 Just then the caterpillar nurse felt something mov- 
 ing at her side. She looked around— and there were 
 eight or ten little green caterpillars crawling about ! 
 They had come out of the butterfly's eggs, and were 
 already eating tiny bits of the cabbage leaf ! 
 
 How do you think the nurse felt to see this? She 
 was astonished, and ashamed of what she had said to 
 the lark. 
 
 Then a great joy filled her heart. 
 
 "Perhaps if this first wonder is true, the rest that 
 the lark told me may be also," she said. 
 
 And so she came to believe him, and all the rest 
 of her life she talked to her friends and relations 
 about the time when she should be a butterfly. 
 
 The butterfly's babies — what did they do? Why, 
 they ate and ate the fresh juicy leaves; crawled and 
 crawled about until they grew as big as caterpillars 
 ever grow to be. Then as the days began to grow 
 
58 LIFE OF A BUTTERFLY. 
 
 cool, and the leaves were getting their bright dresses 
 on, these little caterpillars felt like curling up in some 
 snug place for a nap. So they ate all they could of 
 the leaves they liked the best, and then each one 
 looked about for a place to put his cradle. For do 
 you know — they knew how to make their own cra- 
 dles. 
 
 Each one spun a fine silky cover about him, so that 
 when it was done, all one could see was a small brown 
 cradle fastened to the twig of a tree. There he swings 
 and sleeps, so safe and warm that the rain cannot 
 hurt him nor Jack Frost make him cold. He will 
 sleep so soundly and so long that he will wait for the 
 sunshine of next spring to wake him. Then he will 
 begin to stretch, and soon grow too big for his little 
 bed, and on some sunny day he will be wide awake, 
 and come out with beautiful wings, looking just like 
 his mamma. 
 
 This is very strange, but very true; so you see 
 that the kind lark was right, and the dear old cater- 
 pillar nurse was mistaken. 
 
MR. AND MRS. ROBIN. 
 
 One pleasant April day, Mr. and Mrs. Robin were 
 flying about over the fields and woods, looking for a 
 place to build their nest. 
 
 At last they saw an old oak tree that suited very 
 well ; but when they went to look it over, a couple of 
 rude blue jays flew screaming and chattering at them. 
 "Go away! go away!" they called; "if you don't, 
 we'll make you. You needn't think you can make 
 your nests here. Go away ! go away !" 
 
 "Well, well," said good little Mrs. Robin, "we 
 won't quarrel about it, when the whole world is full 
 of beautiful places for nests." So away she and her 
 mate flew. 
 
 Then they found a large, soft maple, that had — 
 oh, so many lovely corners for nests ! and at once they 
 went to work. But when Mr. Robin flew off for a 
 long straw he had seen in the road, he hurried back 
 in a great fright. "Oh, my dear!" he cried, "this 
 place won't do at all! There's a dreadful cat and 
 three kittens on the other side of that fence." 
 
 59 
 
60 
 
 MR. AND MRS. ROBIN. 
 
 "Then we must go," said Mrs. Eobin. "I can't 
 have my birdies eaten by cats." 
 
 They began hunting again, and flew about until 
 Mrs. Eobin said: "I am so tired, Kob, I can't hunt 
 any more to-day." So she tucked her head under her 
 
 wing, and went to sleep a whole hour before her usual 
 time. 
 
 The next morning, after their breakfast, they sat 
 down on a fence rail to talk it all over. "We really 
 must get our nest started to-day," said Mrs. Robin, 
 "for it's time I was laying my eggs." 
 
 "To be surej" said her mate. "Let's go and look 
 
MR. AND MRS. ROBIN. 61 
 
 at that elm tree over there by the brick house;" and 
 off they flew. 
 
 There seemed to be neither blue jays nor cats near 
 the old elm, so they picked out a quiet spot for the 
 nest, quite in the middle of the tree, where neither 
 wind nor rain could reach it. 
 
 Now there were some wicked little sparrows living 
 just under the roof of the brick house. When the 
 robins came, to the elm tree one of them called, "Oh, 
 look! look! Those silly old robins mean to build a 
 nest! Won't we have fun tearing it to pieces!" 
 
 "That we will; ha! ha!" screamed the rest. 
 
 They kept very still, watching, until Mr. and Mrs. 
 Robin had the nest well started; then down they 
 flew, picked it to pieces, and carried it off. When the 
 birds came back and found no nest, Mr. Eobin said : 
 "I think, my dear, we didn't fasten it well to the tree, 
 and it has blown off. We'll go to work again, and do 
 better." So away they flew, bringing long horsehairs 
 and bits of thread and straw, working away as hard 
 as they could, while the bad little sparrows sat watch- 
 ing; and again, when the nest was well started, tore 
 it apart. 
 
 The robins were more puzzled than ever this time. 
 "It can't be the wind," said Mrs. Robin, "because we 
 don't see any of the straws on the ground." 
 
62 MR. AND MRS. ROBIN. 
 
 "Well, I'm sure I don't know what it is," an- 
 swered her mate; "but we'll try again," which they 
 did the very next day; and lo! the same thing hap- 
 pened. 
 
 "This will never do," said Mrs. Robin. "We won't 
 get a nest at all, at this rate. I'll watch, Eob, and 
 you do the work;" but as soon as he left, the spar* 
 rows pounced upon her, pecked and pushed her, until 
 she was so frightened she flew to her mate. 
 
 "Oh, dear! oh, dear!" she cried, "what shall we 
 do? They frightened me so I couldn't stay." 
 
 "Never mind, dear," said her mate; "we'll not 
 mind them, and they'll soon tire of troubling us." 
 
 On worked the robins, day after day, for nearly a 
 week, the sparrows again and again spoiling the nest 
 as soon as it was started, until they had all the straw 
 and threads they wanted; then the robins were left to 
 build in peace. How happy they were then, to be 
 sure! The beautiful nest was soon done, and not 
 long after there were four of the daintiest little eggs 
 in it! 
 
 Mrs. Robin sat on them night and day, until one 
 fine morning four funny baby birds were hatched; 
 they had very large yellow mouths that were almost 
 always open for something to eat, round brown eyes 
 just like the mother's, and no feathers at all. 
 
MR. AND MRS. ROBIN. 63 
 
 They grew so fast that both the old birds were 
 kept busy hunting up long fat worms for them. You 
 don't know what a pleasant home the little nest made 
 for the baby birds. There were the pretty dancing 
 leaves about them, and very often a breeze to rock 
 them to sleep, and at night, or when it rained, the 
 mother's soft feathers to cover them. 
 
 By and by they grew so large that the nest was 
 quite crowded; and Mrs. Robin was troubled for fear 
 some one would fall out. So she said: "Now, chil- 
 dren, you must learn to fly." 
 
 And — will you believe it? — they learned to fly 
 much quicker than you learned to walk. Indeed, 
 before night they were all hopping about over the 
 ground, hunting their own worms, and Mrs. Eobin 
 had only an empty nest. 
 
 It was lonesome after that in the old elm tree; but 
 soon there were more little birds for Mrs. Eobin to 
 care for, and she did it so well that when fall came 
 you could scarcely have told the young birds from the 
 old ones. 
 
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PUSSY WILLOW'S HOOD. 
 
 All winter long Pussy Willow had been shut up in 
 her house by the brook; but one bright spring morn- 
 ing she opened the door and peeped out. It was very 
 early — oh, very early! Not a flower was to be seen 
 yet. Here and there were a few shy buds and a few 
 brave little birds, the only friendly beings she saw. 
 Pussy Willow shivered, either because she was lone- 
 some or because it was cold, I'm sure I don't know 
 which; but she cuddled her little head back in her 
 warm fuzzy hood and sat very still, looking out upon 
 the big world of trees and grass and flowers that were 
 just now beginning to wake from their long winter's 
 nap. 
 
 "Ah, good morning, Pussy Willow!" called the 
 brook as it went sparkling by, glad once more to be 
 free from its winter covering of snow and ice, and to 
 be able to look out once more upon the warm sun and 
 blue sky. 
 
 "Ah, good morning, Pussy Willow!" creaked the 
 stiff old boughs of the trees as they straightened out 
 their naked branches, through which the winter winds 
 so long had played at will. 
 
 66 
 
PUSSY WILLOW'S HOOD. 67 
 
 "Ah, good morning, Pussy Willow !" cried jolly old 
 Jack Frost, who knew well enough that his fun now 
 was very near at an end. 
 
 "Ah, good morning, Pussy Willow!" chirped the 
 little sparrows as they flew busily back and forth 
 from tree to tree, looking, very likely, for a place for 
 a home by and by, and a nest in which to raise their 
 family of baby sparrows. But by this time old Kobin 
 Eedbreast, who had been about all winter long — so 
 warm was he in his warm coat of feathers — began to 
 grow jealous of all this attention poured out to Pussy 
 Willow. "Good morning, Pussy Willow !" said he, 
 flitting up to a. branch near by, and gazing critically 
 at her. "What a funny little hood you have ! Why 
 do you wear it?" 
 
 "Oh, Mother Nature told me to; and she always 
 knows what is best," answered Pussy Willow. 
 
 "I would not wear a hood," sneered Mr. Robin; 
 and down he flew to the ground, leaving Pussy Wil- 
 low a little unhappy, for, like all little girls, she liked 
 to wear nothing that was queer or unbecoming. 
 Then Mr. Eobin — he was a cruel robin — whispered to 
 all the other birds and to the boughs and to the brook, 
 "Pussy Willow has to wear a hood. Pussy Willow 
 Has no hair !" And the next morning, as soon as ever 
 
68 PUSSY WILLOW'S HOOD. 
 
 the sun was up, they called out at Pussy Willow and 
 laughed at her. 
 
 "Bald! bald!" cried the crow; "cheat! cheat!" 
 twittered the sparrows, till poor Pussy could have 
 cried for very grief. "Never mind," soothed Mother 
 Nature; "wait a few days, and it is Mr. Kobin who 
 shall weep, and hide his very head for shame." 
 
 And Pussy Willow did wait; and one morning, 
 when the sun was very warm and the water in the 
 brook sparkled and leaped from pebble to pebble, and 
 all the trees were full of birds, behold Pussy Willow 
 gave up her hood to Mother Nature, and sprang forth 
 happy as a little bee, her long yellow curls dancing in 
 the sunlight and shining like gold as the sun's rays 
 fell upon them. 
 
 "Bald! bald!" screamed the cro^vs, but this time 
 at crestfallen Mr. Bobin; "cheat! cheat!" cried the 
 birds; until for very shame Mr. Bobin was driven 
 from field and forest. 
 
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 From "Child's Song Book," by per. of American Book Co., Publish* 
 
HOW DAME NATURE GOT HER FROST. 
 
 "I declare," said Dame Nature, one day last fall, 
 "I've been trying for a whole week to gather dew to 
 make my frost, and the air has been so dry I couldn't 
 do it; but it's full of moisture to-day, and I'll set my 
 people to work after sundown." 
 
 "Will you?" laughed the clouds. "We mean to 
 cover the earth with a gray curtain to-night ; and then 
 let's see you gather dew!" 
 
 "Of course I can't, if you do that," answered 
 Dame Nature; "but I'll get a chance tomorrow, per- 
 haps." 
 
 But when the next evening came, up spoke the 
 wind: "I'm going to blow as hard as I can to-night; 
 so, Madam, you'll have to give up the dewdrops 
 again." 
 
 "How provoking!" said Dame Nature; "with all 
 the work I have to do, it's very unkind in you to 
 hinder me so." 
 
 But her chance came very soon, for the wind and 
 clouds started off on a trip, and the evenings were 
 still, clear, and cold. 
 
 70 
 
HOW DAME NATURE GOT HER FROST. 71 
 
 "Just the weather for frost-making," - said the 
 Dame; and she sent this message to the people in the 
 country : 
 
 "As soon as the sun sets, you are to throw off all 
 the heat you have, and when you are quite cold, catch 
 the vapor from the air, and hold it." 
 
 "There's no use," said Dame Nature, "in trying 
 to get much dew in city streets; the houses are so 
 close together, and the ground is much too hard ; but 
 there's a fine chance in the country ; and in the morn- 
 ing I'll go out and see what my people have done." 
 
 And what a time they had of it, in the country, 
 that night. As soon as the sun was out of sight, trees, 
 fence boards, grass, fields, and even great stones by 
 the roadside began to throw off their heat. The rocks 
 and stones found it hard work, and soon gave up ; but 
 the others kept on, until they were so cold that as 
 soon as the warm little vapors that were floating 
 about in the air touched them, they became dew. 
 
 At midnight a large star looked down and saw 
 everything but the smooth old rocks covered with it. 
 They had very little. "I don't care," said one of 
 them to a rosebush; "I hadn't much heat anyway, 
 and I'd much rather keep it than be as wet as you 
 are." 
 
 The vapors were a good deal surprised at finding 
 
n 
 
 HOW DAME NATURE GOT HER FROST. 
 
 themselves clinging to trees 
 and fences; but they said, 
 "Never mind; in the morn- 
 ing the sun will set us free," 
 and they settled down for 
 the night. 
 
 But their beds, were so 
 cold that they soon began 
 to freeze. It didn't hurt 
 them at all, but they grew 
 very sleepy and at last 
 closed their eyes and slept, 
 knowing nothing about the 
 shining white dress that 
 was put upon them; nor did 
 they hear the large star 
 say to the little ones, "It 
 must be pretty cold down 
 there on the earth. See 
 how the dew is changing to 
 frost." 
 
 Dame Nature set out very 
 early next morning, to see 
 what had been done. 
 
 "Very well, indeed!" she 
 said to the fences, trees, 
 grass, and earth. "You 
 
HOW DAME NATURE GOT HER FROST. 73 
 
 have a fine lot of frost," but she only frowned at the 
 rocks. 
 
 By and by she saw a garden bed with none at all. 
 "How's this?" she cried. "Didn't you get my order 
 last night?" 
 
 "Oh, but please, dear Dame Nature, we couldn't 
 help it; a little girl came out and covered us with a 
 large piece of cloth." 
 
 "That was a wise little girl," said Dame Nature. 
 "I should like to know her. Well, never mind; I 
 have plenty, anyway;" and off she started, just as the 
 sun, looking out from behind a cloud, said, "What 
 does that frost mean, I should like to know? I'll shine 
 on it with all my might and see what happens." 
 
 And what do you suppose did happen? 
 
THE WALNUT TEEE THAT WANTED TO 
 BEAR TULIPS. 
 
 Many years ago, when your grandmamma's grand- 
 mamma was a little girl, there stood a tall young 
 walnut tree in the back yard of a tulip dealer. 
 
 Now the walnut thought he had never seen any- 
 thing so beautiful as the little tulips that were set 
 out in the yard to be kissed by the sun, who each 
 clay paid a visit of an hour to the walnut. 
 
 The wonder is that the sun did not stay longer to 
 watch the pretty shadow pictures which the walnut 
 began to make on the grass as soon as the sun said 
 "Good morning." 
 
 Another wonder is, that the great walnut ever 
 thought of looking down at the dear little tulips, 
 when he might have looked up at the greater sun. 
 But so he did, and you and I will never know the why 
 of a great many things smaller even than that, until 
 we go up higher, to be taught by the dear Friend who 
 knows everything." 
 
 However, the tulips were very lovely, I assure you, 
 with their scarlet and golden cups. 
 
 74 
 
THE WALNUT TREE WANTED TO BEAR TULIPS. T5 
 
 One day a wonderful sister tulip was brought out. 
 What color was she, do you suppose? 
 
 "Crimson?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Purple?"" 
 
 "Xo." 
 
 I am sure you will not be able to guess, so I will 
 tell you. 
 
 She was black, and she was softer than velvet 
 and more glossy than satin. 
 
 When the walnut saw this beautiful tulip, every 
 little leaf danced in the air for joy, and every little 
 branch bent low. You've seen the trees bending 
 to kiss the children and the flowers that way, I'm 
 sure. 
 
 The walnut did something else, which I will tell 
 you, if you will promise not to tell the hickory or the 
 chestnut. He dropped a little leaf at the tulip's feet, 
 which was written all over with a wonderful language 
 that nobody but trees and flowers, birds and bees, and 
 perhaps Mr. Tennyson or Mr. Kingsley could read. 
 
 The tulip did not seem to care about the leaf or 
 the letter written ou it, and we cannot tell whether 
 she sent an answer back to the walnut or not ; be that 
 as it may, the walnut was not quite so happy after 
 he sent the letter, but he began growing better. 
 
76 THE WALNUT TREE WANTED TO BEAR TULIPS. 
 
 And do you not think it is wiser in our best Friend 
 to make us good instead of happy, sometimes? 
 
 The walnut used to- say after this happened, "I'll 
 bear tulips myself." 
 
 How would a walnut tree look with tulips among 
 its leaves? 
 
 You think that could never, never happen? We 
 shall see? 
 
 Walnut struck his roots deeper, and spread his 
 branches broader and broader, until he was quite 
 wonderful to look upon. Sometimes the wind used to 
 hear him singing something like this, which was set 
 to the most beautiful, rustling little tune you ever 
 heard : 
 
THE WALNUT TREE WANTED TO BEAR TULIPS. 77 
 
 "We'll- bear tulips yet; 
 
 Leaves and I can ne'er forget. 
 
 Roots, be not weary; 
 
 Heart, be thou cheery 
 
 The blessing may tarry, 
 
 But we'll bear tulips yet; 
 
 Leaves, roots, and heart, do not forget." 
 
 A hundred years went by, but there were no tulips 
 among the leaves of the walnut tree. A hundred 
 years is a long time for trees to wait, is it not? We 
 can afford to wait longer for some things than can 
 the trees, for we never, never really and truly die. 
 Now at the end of the hundred years this walnut fell 
 to singing another refrain which the years had been 
 teaching him : 
 
 "I bear no tulips yet; 
 
 And though I ne'er forget, 
 
 As Thou wilt, Master, let it be; 
 
 Tulips or only leaves for me, 
 
 Still I will cheery be. 
 
 Do Thou Thy will with me; 
 
 Leaves, roots, and heart I yield to Thee." 
 
 This dear walnut had been very brave and stout 
 hearted. He had left nothing undone which any wal- 
 nut tree could do, and he had grown very fine in fiber 
 and perfect in form, so that one day a wood carver 
 said, "That perfect tree is just what I want for my 
 work." The brave old walnut was cut down and 
 
78 THE WALNUT TREE WANTED TO BEAR TULIPS. 
 
 sawed and chipped; but he did not mind, for what do 
 you suppose the wood carver was making? 
 
 Black tulips, to be sure! 
 
 Then I advise you to look sharply at every bit of 
 wood carving you can find, for those very tulips are 
 somewhere, feeling very happy that they can bloom 
 all the year, while some of the tulips we know have 
 to sleep half the year at least. 
 
GIANT SLOTH AND THE TIDDLY-WINKS. 
 
 There was once a giant, who lived beside the sea. 
 He was so large and strong that he could tear up a 
 great tree by the roots, and when he laughed or 
 shouted, the noise was like thunder. 
 
 He was called "Giant Sloth" because he was very 
 lazy and liked nothing so much as sleeping. In fact, 
 if it had not been for eating, he would have slept all 
 the time. 
 
 One fine summer morning Giant Sloth sat down 
 on the sand close to the water, with his back against a 
 great log that had once been the mast of a ship. It 
 was very still and warm, and in a moment Giant 
 Sloth began, as usual, to feel sleepy; down went his 
 head, lower and lower, until it rested on the log. 
 
 There he lay in the sand, sound asleep, with the 
 dancing blue waves at his feet, and the soft air and 
 sunshine all about him. 
 
 Now there were some funny tiddly-winks living 
 
 among the rocks, not far from where the giant lay 
 
 sleeping. They were very merry little creatures, who 
 
 '79 
 
80 GIANT SLOTH AND THE TIDDLY-WINKS. 
 
 neither walked nor ran, but were always hopping 
 about. 
 
 This is the way they got into their castle: it was 
 open at the top, and whenever a tiddly- wink wanted to 
 go home and rest, he just hopped all around the castle, 
 until he landed inside. 
 
 It was great fun to see a number of them trying to 
 get in at the same time. Sometimes they fell at the 
 
 side, and again hopped too far, and went right over 
 the top; but they never minded that, and kept on 
 hopping and jumping until they were inside. 
 
 On the morning when Giant Sloth lay sleeping, 
 with his head on the log, the tiddly-winks and their 
 king were out playing in the sand. They dug holes 
 with tiny shovels, sailed chips for boats, and waded 
 into the water just as little boys and girls do. . 
 
GIANT SLOTH AND THE TIDDLY-WINKS. 81 
 
 As they played they went farther and farther from 
 home, until suddenly they saw just before them, the 
 great form of the giant. How they did scamper off 
 then ! They were in such, haste to get away, that they 
 tumbled over each other as they ran. 
 
 "Hurry ! hurry !" they whispered. "There's Giant 
 Sloth. He may wake and catch us." 
 
 They ran so fast they were soon out of breath, and 
 had to stop and rest. 
 
 Then the little king, looking back, said, "Look! 
 the tide is rising ; and if Giant Sloth doesn't awaken 
 he'll get a good wetting, if he isn't drowned." 
 
 The tiddly-winks looked at each other, at the blue 
 waves that were already creeping over the giant's 
 great feet, and then at their king. "That would be 
 dreadful," said they; "but how can we help it? We 
 daren't go near him." 
 
 The king looked troubled. I wonder what we 
 can do," he said to himself, leaning his head on his 
 hand. 
 
 Just then he heard a rustling, and the air whis- 
 pered in his ear, "May it please your majesty, I carry 
 sound very fast, and if you'll give me your message 
 I'll try and take it to the giant." 
 
 "Good! ? ' cried the king; "we'll do it!" Then the 
 tiddly-winks stood close together and shouted as 
 
82 GIANT SLOTH AND THE TIDDLY-WINKS. 
 
 loudly as they could with their faint voices : "Giant 
 Sloth, Giant Sloth ! wake ! The tide is rising. Wake ! 
 wake!" and away went the sound through the air, 
 while the king scrambled upon a rock to see what 
 came of it. 
 
 He watched a moment, then shook his head. "He 
 doesn't move," he said; "we must try something 
 else." 
 
 At that the pretty blue waves that were creeping 
 over the sand called, "May it please your majesty, 
 we carry sound four times faster than the air; try 
 us." 
 
 "Good !" said the king again. "We'll dp it." 
 
 Thereupon he ordered the tiddly-winks to run. into 
 the water, with stones in their hands, which they were 
 to strike together as hard as they could. 
 
 Away hopped the little creatures in every direc- 
 tion, hunting for stones, and back they soon came, 
 each with his hands full. The next instant they were 
 splashing into the waves, as much at home there as so 
 many ducks, striking the stones together and shout- 
 ing for the second time, "Giant Sloth ! Giant Sloth ! 
 wake ! The tide is rising ! Wake ! wake !" and away 
 went the sound through the water. 
 
 Now if only the giant's ears had been where his 
 heels were, he might have awakened; but they were 
 
GIANT SLOTH ANB THE TIDDLY-WINKS. 83 
 
 up on the log, you know. So again the king shook 
 his head, and said, "He's still sound asleep. . What 
 else can we do?" 
 
 He thought, and thought. At last he said, "Now, 
 my men, there's one thing more to try. We must 
 creep to the end of that log, and pound upon it. The 
 wood will carry the sound to his ears for us. Come, 
 get your hammers. Don't be afraid; I'll lead you." 
 
 They were dreadfully afraid to go so near the giant, 
 yet never thought of disobeying their king; so they 
 ran for their hammers, and were soon creeping softly 
 after him. 
 
 Nearer and nearer they went, until they were all 
 close to the end" of the log, but well out of sight, in 
 case the giant awoke. 
 
 "Ready !" ordered the king. "One: — two — strike !" 
 and down went the tiny hammers, again and again, 
 the tiddly-winks at the same time calling, "Giant 
 Sloth, Giant Sloth! Wake! wake!" 
 
 Through wood and air went the sound, straight 
 into the giant's ear. Slowly he opened his eyes, raised 
 his head, and gave such a yawn that the tiddly-winks 
 trembled and crawled close under the log, where they 
 lay very still until they heard him rise and stride off. 
 
 Then they hopped off home (looking gayer than 
 ever in their red, blue, and green coats) , laughing mer- 
 
84 GIANT SLOTH AND THE TIDDLY-WINKS. 
 
 rily, to think what a joke it was, that Giant Sloth 
 hadn't known they were hiding behind the log, or that 
 he had been awakened by tiddly-winks and a tiddly- 
 wink king. 
 
THE VAPOE FAMILY. 
 
 Did you ever hear of the Vapor family? In the 
 beginning of their lives they were drops of water in a 
 pretty little lake out in the country. There they 
 lived a long time, sometimes keeping perfectly still for 
 a whole day, — so still that the lake looked like a 
 mirror, in which you could see the great white clouds 
 overhead, the green hills around, and the soft-eyed 
 cows as they came to drink. 
 
 Then again, when the wind came to see them, the 
 little drops had great fun dancing about, making 
 pretty waves, and racing one after another up to the 
 shore or against the sides of the rowboats. 
 
 They always liked to play with the school children 
 who often stopped as they went past, and waded about 
 in the edge of the lake. 
 
 So they lived on, never thinking of any change, 
 until one day the sunbeams said to them, "Little 
 Drops, don't you want to leave that stupid lake and 
 sail about in the air?" 
 
 Now the drops had never thought of such a thing; 
 
 85 
 
8G THE VAPOR FAMILY. 
 
 but as soon as they heard this, they called out, "Oh; 
 do, please, Sunbeams, tell us how to get there?" 
 
 "We'll get you ready in a little while," said the 
 sunbeams ; and they shone upon the lakewith all their 
 might. Before long the drops felt themselves grow- 
 ing very thin and light. 
 
 "Oh," said one, "I feel so funny ! — just as if I had 
 wings." "So do I," said another; "I'm so light I 
 can't keep still." "Oh, oh, oh!" cried a third, "we 
 really are rising. Good-bye, dear Lake ! I wonder how 
 far Ave shall go." 
 
 It was very pleasant. They could look back and 
 see the lake, with the children playing along its banks, 
 the brown-eyed cows, and the rowboats in the water.. 
 
 It was all very strange, but the strangest thing 
 about it was, that none of their old friends knew 
 they had left; because, you see, they had grown so 
 thin they were invisible. That is, no one could see 
 them as they sailed so gayly away. 
 
 "Now," said the sunbeams, "you must have a new- 
 name. You shall be called 'Little Vapors' as long 
 as you wear this pretty light dress." 
 
 "Vapors !" they laughed ; "that's much prettier than 
 'Drops.' Oh, yes; we'll be Vapors." 
 
 Now just as they were getting used to being in 
 the air, and not at all afraid of falling, the sunbeams 
 
THE VAPOR FAMILY. 
 
 87 
 
 were called away, and at that very moment the poor 
 little Vapors were caught by some cold air, and held 
 until they were so chilled and, frightened they could 
 scarcely move. "Oh, dear! oh, dear!" they cried. 
 "Oh, what shall we do? Oh, please let us go back to 
 
 "OH, SEE THE FOG OVER THE LAKE! " SHE SAID. 
 
 our old home !" And they cried for the sunbeams to 
 come back. But the cold air only laughed, and said, 
 "What are you crying about? I'll give you a better 
 dress than that — one that can be seen ;" and lo ! there 
 
88 THE VAPOR FAMILY. 
 
 was each little vapor dressed in the softest, prettiest 
 gray. As they stood wondering, they heard the chil- 
 dren say, "Oh, see the fog over the lake !" 
 
 "So how we're Fog," said they. "What shall we be 
 next?" The cold air held them until he was driven 
 away by a current of warm air; then they quickly 
 shook off the gray dress, and again sailed upward, 
 light and invisible as ever. 
 
 As they went along, they met hundreds of other 
 Vapors. Inde< d, the whole air seemed full of them ; 
 and as they w( re all talking and laughing together, 
 our little Vapors became quite well acquainted, and 
 soon found out all about the rest. And where do you 
 suppose they came from? 
 
 "I," said one lively little fellow, — "I came from the 
 teakettle on a kitchen stove. When the water bqiled 
 I just slipped through the spout, out at the window, 
 and — here I am." "And I," said another, "came with 
 a large party from the leaves of a fine old oak tree." 
 Another said it floated away from a pan of water out 
 in a yard for the chickens to drink from ; and the odd- 
 est of all was, that a whole company had come from 
 the clothes hanging on a line to dry, on last wash day. 
 Among them all were many who had been back and 
 forth from the sky to the earth a number of times, and 
 they said, "You'll go back, too;" and they told our 
 
THE VAPOR FAMILY. 89 
 
 little Vapors that if they kept rising they would find 
 the air getting colder and colder, and that some day 
 it would send them down to the earth. But the 
 Vapors were not afraid now, and went on higher and 
 higher until they were more than a mile from the lake. 
 Then one beautiful morning they met the cold air 
 again, and in a moment he had caught them all, and 
 this time dressed them in beautiful white, so fleecy 
 and soft it looked like wool. "Now," he said, "I have 
 made clouds of you, and here comes the wind to give 
 ypu a fine ride." It was pretty cold, but they didn't 
 mind that, and called out, "Hurrah! what fun to 
 ride about in the sky ! Come on, Wind ! we're all 
 ready !" and away they went wherever the wind car- 
 ried them. 
 
 They sailed about a long time, sometimes rising 
 and again falling, until they were just above the 
 mountain tops, but always wearing the fleecy white 
 dress when with the cold air, and putting on the in- 
 visible one when they met any warm air. 
 
 A great many other Vapors joined them, so at 
 last the cloud was very large; but one day the wind 
 broke it in two, and part of it sailed away higher than 
 the Vapors had ever been before; and then what do 
 you suppose happened? Why, the cold air caught 
 them again, and said quite roughly, "See here, you've 
 
90 THE VAPOR FAMILY. 
 
 played about in the sky long enough. It's time you 
 went back to earth; and besides, they need rain down 
 there. So here you go ;" and he just turned them into 
 shining drops of water, that went down fa'ster and 
 faster, racing away as if each were trying to get to the 
 earth first; lower and lower, until they reached the 
 hilltops, where some that were very tired stopped. 
 But the rest went hurrying on, striking against the 
 trees and fences, rolling off roofs and making music 
 against the window panes, until out of breath; but 
 very happy after their rush from the sky, they sank 
 down on the ground and were glad to rest. 
 
 Now can you guess what became of the others? 
 
 The wind carried them a long way from where 
 the cloud was broken, and blew them about so roughly 
 that at last the Vapors cried, "We've sailed, far 
 enough. Please, Wind, don't blow us about any 
 more." 
 
 . But the naughty wind wouldn't listen, and sent 
 them whirling into such cold air that the poor Vapors 
 were nearly frozen. But when they looked at each 
 other, they saw such lovely dresses they forgot about 
 the cold — the purest, daintiest white you ever saw. 
 Then they whispered softly, "Let us go back home 
 while we wear these dresses," and down they fell; but 
 
THE VAPOR FAMILY. 91 
 
 not as the raindrops did, for these floated and danced 
 about all the way, like beautiful white fairies. 
 
 Down, down came the soft little flakes, covering 
 the walks and garden beds, and then they lay very 
 still. 
 
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SEEDLINGS ON THE WING. 
 
 "Come, little Thistle-seed," whispered the wind one 
 day; "you can't lie so closely in your mother's lap 
 always. I want some one to play with; come with 
 me." 
 
 The seedling spread its wings a little and listened 
 , as the soft wind spoke. It wanted to go very much, 
 but said to the wind, "I do not like to leave my broth- 
 ers and sisters." 
 
 "They will all go some day and leave you; you had 
 better come now, while the weather is beautiful ; and 
 I'll not always be as gentle and warm a playfellow 
 as I am to-day." - 
 
 Slowly the seed slipped out of its nest, to leave the 
 dear home where it had grown from a tiny spike of 
 purple to a full-winged, ripened seed. 
 
 "Come away! come away!" called the impatient 
 breeze, as the seed lovingly lingered with its sisters 
 and brothers; for its wings were caught among their 
 wings, and it was hard to get away. 
 
 Out into the bright sunlight it sailed at last, carried 
 by the soft wind. How light-hearted and happy it 
 was! Over the low bushes and under the high 
 
 94 
 
SEEDLINGS ON THE WING. 
 
 95 
 
 branches it floated, skimming along so merrily. All 
 at once they heard some one calling, '-'Take me with 
 you ; take me with you, gentle Breeze !" And a poor 
 
 little dandelion seed which had heen lodged in a hazel 
 bush since early summer flew toward the thistle. Its 
 wings were all blown and soiled, so that it could 
 hardly fly. The thistle tenderly put its fluffy white 
 arms about it to help it along ; and then the dandelion 
 told its story to its comrade, and the kind breeze lis- 
 tened too, as it carried them along. 
 
 "I did not leave my brothers and sisters until Ave 
 had journeyed together for a long time. But the rain 
 came down and dampened our wings, and we could 
 not fly. Instead of falling to the ground where I might 
 have been so warm and comfortable, I happened to 
 catch onto the hazel bush where you found me, and 
 there I have been all this beautiful summer; and no 
 one stopped to help me off until you came past." 
 
96 SEEDLINGS ON THE WING. 
 
 The breeze comforted it by whispering that it could 
 aot grow until spring, even if it did fall to the ground; 
 and the gentle thistle put its wings even more closely 
 about the little dandelion, and promised to help it so 
 long as its own wings held out. 
 
 "Shall I bring you some more friends?" asked the 
 breeze. "See, yonder are little Miss Cottonwood and 
 cousin Milkweed ! They are such pleasant company, 
 and we will all enjoy a merry party." 
 
 So off skipped the wind, while the dandelion and 
 thistle rested a moment on the tip of a grass blade. 
 
 Mr. Breeze hurried back, and all puffing and out of 
 breath he introduced the newcomers to his old play- 
 fellows. They all locked their soft wings about each 
 other, and the friendly breeze puffed a little harder 
 that he might carry them all on together. He was so 
 happy and frolicsome and delighted over his merry 
 company, that he skipped about everywhere and did 
 not watch closely where he was carrying them ; and 
 the happy seeds were so joyous and glad, they little 
 cared where they went. 
 
 Suddenly they touched a beautiful, soft white body, 
 that flew along so swiftly and pushed them ahead so 
 hard that they all lost their breath and were quite 
 startled. The breeze could hardly keep up with them, 
 but he made them happy again by telling them tfiat it 
 
SEEDLINGS ON THE WING. 97 
 
 was only the breast of a white dove they had blown 
 against, and soon they would be free. 
 
 The bird flew on and on toward the sun, and just as 
 she was descending into an oak tree, the seeds slipped 
 away from her breast and fell to the ground. They 
 were very much excited, but not troubled in the least, 
 and very glad to rest after the long, swift journey. 
 
 Their playfellow, the breeze, hovered over them 
 and spread a light awning of leaves to keep them pro- 
 tected. The sun was going down, and he swiftly whis- 
 pered a "Good night! sweet dreams!" and hurried 
 on to do his duties in carrying the clouds to the 
 sunset. 
 
 As they lay on the soft moss a clear, fresh voice 
 spoke to them: "Good day, sweet Seedlings!" and 
 they looked around, and it was a last year's acorn that 
 stood holding up its tall young head and tiny fresh 
 leaves. 
 
 "I dropped here last year, just as you did now, and 
 see how beautiful the mosses and soft rains have made 
 me!" 
 
 "Oh, will we be as you are?" they all whispered. 
 
 "I do not know ; but it is beautiful to live and grow. 
 Some day I shall be a tree; something tells me so." 
 
 "Oh, will we all be trees, just like the others in this 
 great forest?" they whispered again. 
 
98 SEEDLINGS ON THE WING. 
 
 "I do not know; go to sleep as I did, and when 
 you wake up you will have dreamed it, just as I did, 
 and your dream will all come true." 
 
 "Will we all dream the same dream?" they asked. 
 
 "Wait and see," said the acorn. 
 
 And they all slept a long, sweet sleep. 
 
WHAT THE FIEE SPRITES DID. 
 
 It was time to get dinner, so Jane filled the tea- 
 kettle and put it on the stove. 
 
 "Wonder what kind of a place this is," said the 
 drops, as they tumbled in. "It's as dark as the pipe 
 we came from ; but there's plenty of room, and that's 
 a comfort," and they waited for what was to come. 
 
 Then Jane stirred the coal, and the little fire sprites, 
 in their flame-colored dresses, reached their arms of 
 heat up to the teakettle, and cried, "Here's work for 
 us !" And they slipped right into the bottom of the 
 kettle; then went creeping, creeping, creeping from 
 one part of the tin to another, until they had traveled 
 all over it, and the kettle was hot. 
 
 "Now," said the fire sprites, "let's heat the water. 
 We'll catch these drops at the bottom, and make them 
 lively for once in their lives, as sure as you're born." 
 With that they threw their long, hot arms around 
 the drops and held them tightly. 
 
 Warmer and warmer grew the drops. They had 
 never felt anything like it before, and became so 
 
 99 
 
100 WHAT THE FIRE SPRITES DID. 
 
 Ijappy that at last they burst out singing a soft little 
 song. 
 
 The cold drops above heard it, and said, "They're 
 singing at the bottom of the" kettle ; some of us must 
 go down to see what the fun is." At once a party 
 started. There would have been no room for them, 
 had not the fire sprites been at work ; but as it was, 
 the drops at the bottom had grown so light, it was an 
 easy matter to push them out of the way. 
 
 This the cold drops did. The others never minded 
 but went dancing and singing to the top. This was 
 their song: 
 
 Rink turn, rink turn re; 
 We're happy as we can be; 
 With a skip and a hop 
 We'll rise to the top — 
 Rink turn, rink turn re. 
 
 The cold drops had only time to spread out over the 
 bottom of the kettle, when they, too, were caught by 
 the fire sprites. They were as much pleased with the 
 heat as their friends had been. - ■ 
 
 "How glad I am that we came here!" said one. 
 "Yes," said another, "and I mean to stay to enjoy 
 myself." 
 
 The words were no sooner spoken than over they 
 all went, pushed aside by another party from above*. 
 
WHAT THE FIRE SPRITES DID. 101 
 
 "We want this place, and you must get out of the 
 way," called the newcomers. 
 
 There was no help for it; up went the warm drops, 
 singing the same little song : 
 
 Rink turn, rink turn re; 
 We're happy as we can be; 
 With a skip and a hop 
 We'll rise to the top — 
 Rink turn, rink turn re. 
 
 By this time all the water in the kettle was in 
 motion, cold drops falling, warm drops rising, singing 
 as they rose, and the fire sprites (who just enjoyed 
 the fun), catching each drop as soon as it reached the 
 bottom. 
 
 They jostled and pushed each other so much, as 
 they danced about, singing their little song, that they 
 made quite a loud bubbling noise. 
 
 Just then little Carl came into the kitchen for a 
 cooky, and he heard the bubbling. "What makes that 
 noise, Jane?" said he. 
 
 "It's the teakettle singing," answered Jane. 
 
 "How can a teakettle sing?" said the little boy. 
 "What makes it?" 
 
 "I don't know, child," said Jane. "Kun along and 
 don't bother;" and she went on peeling the potatoes. 
 
 The happy little drops in the teakettle heard what 
 she said, and they laughed aloud. 
 
102 WHAT THE FIRE SPRITES DID. 
 
 "Jane doesn't know what makes us sing," said they. 
 "Neither do we; but it's something at the bottom of 
 the kettle;" and they bubbled and sputtered at such 
 a rate ? that Jane took the teakettle off the stove. 
 
The Tea Kettle's Song. 
 
 H. 
 
 John Handei,. 
 
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 1. Did you ev - er 'hear a 
 
 2. Such a gur - gling, sweet, yet 
 
 3. "There is nev - er a place like 
 
 4. And the while steam floats a 
 
 tea - ket - tie sing, 
 rol - lick - ing song, 
 home, sweet home," 
 way thro' the - air 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 On a frost - y win - ter night? 
 
 With the cheer - i - est re - frain, 
 
 Out the tea - ket - tie sings quite plain, 
 
 While the bub - bles keep danc - ing on 
 
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 When the kitch 
 
 While the lid 
 
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 Till the place 
 
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 up and down, 
 
 oth - er tune, 
 
 dear old words, 
 
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 the 
 
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 song. 
 
 From "Child's Song Book," by per. of American Book Co.. Publisher*. 
 
LITTLE GOLDEN-BOD. 
 
 Little Golden-rod leaned up against the fence, and 
 looked about her. 
 
 She saw a dusty country road at her feet, with dark 
 woods on the other side. Then she peeped, through 
 the fence at a large meadow with a happy little brook 
 dancing through it, and dozens upon dozens of bright 
 field daisies scattered about, with brown caps, and 
 petals as golden as any sunset you ever saw. 
 
 She looked back at her brothers and sisters, and 
 down at herself. They were all standing by the 
 roadside dressed in pale green, and pretty well cov- 
 ered with dust.* 
 
 "I wish," said little Golden-rod, "I really wish that 
 I had been born a daisy, and were living in that 
 meadow, with the pretty brook to drink from, and a 
 beautiful yellow dress to wear." 
 
 Just then a smart young grasshopper came jumping 
 toward her on his six long legs. 
 
 "You don't look happy, little Golden-rod," said he; 
 "What's the matter?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing much," answered Golden-rod; "only 
 I wish I were a daisy, with a pretty yellow dress." 
 
 104 
 
LITTLE GOLDEN-ROD. 105 
 
 "Is that all?" said the grasshopper; "then just let 
 
 me tell you that I know where you can get gold 
 
 .enough for a dozen dresses. Do you know what a 
 
 rainbow is?" and he hopped quite close to her on the 
 
 fence rail. 
 
 "To be sure I do," said Golden-rod. "It's a beau- 
 tiful bow that sometimes comes in the sky when it 
 rains; what's that to do with it?" 
 
 "Just this," said the grasshopper. "I've heard my 
 grandfather say : 'At the foot of the rainbow lies a 
 pot of gold.' Now, then, Golden-rod, what's to hinder 
 your going there and helping yourself?" 
 
 "Oh, I only wish I could !" said Golden-rod ; "but 
 I don't know where the foot of the rainbow is." 
 
 "I can tell you, then," answered the grasshopper; 
 "it's just across the meadow, over there at the foot of 
 that hill; see?" and he pointed with one of his long 
 legs. 
 
 "Yes," said Golden-rod, "I see; but it's a long way 
 off. How shall I get there?" 
 
 "Oh, just pull yourself loose from the ground, and 
 the wind will take you over 'most any day," and the 
 grasshopper jumped to the ground, and started off. 
 
 "Thank you; thank you! I'll certainly do it," 
 Golden-rod called after him, never stopping to think 
 whether he had told her the truth or not. 
 
106 LITTLE GOLDEN-ROD. 
 
 That very day she commenced trying to pull her- 
 self from the earth, and pretty soon all her dainty 
 roots were calling, "Please stop, Golden-rod. We 
 want to get you something to eat, and you won't let 
 us go into the ground." 
 
 "Never mind anything to eat," she answered; "I'm 
 going after gold for a new dress." And she pulled 
 harder than ever ; but the kind earth knew what was 
 best for the little plant, and wouldn't let go. 
 
 She was not discouraged, though, but worked away 
 every day, with her face always turned toward the 
 hill across the meadow, where the grasshopper- had 
 said the foot of the rainbow would be. 
 
 Day after day went by. It was very hot and dusty, 
 but little Golden-rod kept saying to herself,- "At the 
 foot of the rainbow lies a pot of gold. I must get loose 
 before a rainbow comes, so that I can go at once;" 
 and she kept on pulling. 
 
 But somehow she began to feel faint and weary; 
 and her little roots were saying, "If Golden-rod 
 doesn't let us go farther into the ground, we can't feed 
 her much longer, for there's no more food about us 
 here;" and they sent her only enough to keep her 
 alive, but not enough to make her grow large and 
 strong. 
 
 At last one night, she was so' tired and discouraged 
 
LITTLE GOLPEN-ROD. 
 
 107 
 
 that she just dropped her head upon the fence rail and 
 cried. 
 
 Pretty soon she heard a sweet voice saying, "Poor 
 little Golden-rod ! foolish little Golden-rod ! I'm so 
 
 "YES," SAID THE MOON, 
 "YOU HAVE BEEN 
 FOOLISH." 
 
 sorry for you !" She looked up, and there was the 
 great silvermoon, looking so kindly down, and shower- 
 ing such lovely white light over her. 
 
 "Oh, dear Moon," sobbed Golden-rod, "am I foolish? 
 Please help me; for I am so tired and weak I can not 
 even stand." 
 
 "Yes," said the moon, "you have been very foolish. 
 
108 LITTLE GOLDEN-ROD. 
 
 Listen, little Golden-rod. There is no pot of gold 
 at the foot of the rainbow; and even if there were, 
 you could never reach it; but if you had done your 
 very best here by the road-side, had sent your rootlets 
 far down into the earth, and had caught all the sun- 
 shine the great sun had for you, you would now have 
 as beautiful a dress as any daisy of the field, and be 
 strong and well." 
 
 Then little Golden-rod cried harder than ever ; but 
 she listened all the while as the moon went on : 
 
 "Haven't you noticed that your brothers and sisters 
 have new dresses of gold?" 
 
 "No," said Golden-rod sadly; "I've been so busy 
 watching for the rainbow, I haven't even looked at 
 them for a long time." 
 
 "Look in the morning, then," said the moon, "and 
 ask how they became golden while you are still pale 
 green;" and she wrapped her face in a fleecy cloud, 
 and went away. 
 
 As soon as it was light, little Golden-rod straight- 
 ened up, and looked on both sides of her, although it 
 made, her neck ache to turn around, she had held it 
 still so long. 
 
 She hardly knew her own brothers and sisters. 
 There they stood, each with every slender stem so 
 covered with bright little yellow flowers, that they 
 
LITTLE GOLDEN-ROD. 109 
 
 looked like tossing plumes as the morning breeze 
 waved them. 
 
 "Oh, how pretty you all are!" cried little Golden- 
 rod. "Where did you get those lovely dresses?" 
 
 "Why, you see," said the others, "they just came 
 to us. We gathered all the sunshine we could, and 
 somehow, when our hearts were full of it, we grew 
 yellow ; and the more sunshine we get, the brighter 
 we grow." 
 
 Little Golden-rod looked down at her own faded 
 green suit, that now had many a withered leaf in it, 
 and shook her head. "The moon was right," she whis- 
 pered ; "I have been very foolish ; but perhaps if I try 
 hard I may yet grow into a flower." So she called 
 to the rootlets, and bade them go wherever they chose 
 to get her food ; and instead of watching for the foot 
 of the rainbow, she turned her face to the bright sun ; 
 and behold ! she, too, very soon began to grow yellow 
 like the rest. 
 
 And the kind little rootlets — they sent her the very 
 best food they could find ; so she slowly grew stronger 
 and larger, and before the frost came, she stood 
 straight and tall beside the fence, with her slender 
 stems filled with pretty yellow blossoms, a very happy 
 little Golden-rod. 
 
GRANDMA KAOLINE. 
 
 I have somebody under my "handkerchief to intro- 
 duce to you. It is a very little, very old lady. I will 
 go around and introduce all the quiet, polite children 
 to her. "Johnny Jones, this is Grandma Kaoline." 
 
 You will see that Grandma Kaoline is made of 
 clay. I am going to tell you a strange and wonderful 
 story about Grandma Kaoline. 
 
 The clay of which she is made was found down in 
 the ground, in what people call a clay bed, or clay 
 bank ; sometimes it is called a clay mine. Grandma 
 Kaoline is so very, very old, that while we talk about 
 the clay, we will let her take a nap under my hand- 
 kerchief; perhaps she will like that as well as some 
 longer naps she has had in her other bed, under 
 ground. 
 
 Thousands of years ago, when the earth was very 
 young — yes, niillions of years ago, before little chil- 
 dren came to live upon this beautiful earth, even 
 before the earth had grown so beautiful — there was 
 no clay here with which to make pretty things. 
 
 If Grandma Kaoline could take you by the hand 
 
 no 
 
GRANDMA KAOLINE. Ill 
 
 and lead you back to that time, the world would look 
 so strange to you, that you would cry to come back to 
 kindergarten. Grandma Kaoline could show you 
 nothing but great rocks and oceans, with a few rivers 
 of water. There were no birds, nor trees, nor flowers 
 anywhere on the whole earth. The Careful Gardener 
 had not made them yet, but He knew He should send 
 some little children to live here some day, and there 
 were many things to be made for them, one of which 
 was this clay. Great rocks were thrown up into the 
 air by earthquakes; they were tossed into the rivers 
 by winds; they were pushed and knocked together 
 until they became smooth as glass; then they were 
 thrown into the air as if a giant were playing ball 
 with them, and their smooth sides broken until rough 
 again. 
 
 They were rolled down mountains, and washed in 
 rivers, until they were ground to powder finer than 
 flour. 
 
 This fine powder, ground from the granite rocks, 
 was carried by the water into low places in the ear-th, 
 and then it was laid to rest in cool, dark beds while 
 something else was done by the Gardener who took 
 care of everything. 
 
 I cannot tell you all that was done for us before 
 we came ; but you shall hear of more wonderful things 
 
112 GRANDMA KAOLINE. 
 
 than this at another time; now we are only to talk 
 about the powdered stones which lay in the cool, dark, 
 damp beds for thousands of years, becoming clay, at 
 last, instead of stone. 
 
 Do you think we could make this hard stone into 
 soft clay? 
 
 Was it not kind of the Gardener to do for us what 
 we could not do ourselves? 
 
 I have told you a story about Grandma Kabline, 
 and now Grandma Kaoline may tell you a story about 
 herself. We will play that Grandma Kaoline can 
 talk, and you may listen to her. I think these little 
 children will learn to listen to the stories that the 
 flowers and rocks, the grass and shells, have to tell. 
 
 GRANDMA KAOLINE'S STORY. 
 
 "Once I lay in a bed which was larger than your 
 crib, larger than your mother's bed^ larger than this 
 house; yes, larger than the whole city of Boston. 
 
 "My bed was down under the water, and I wondered 
 what would ever be done with it. I wondered a great 
 many years, and all the time I was wondering, the 
 bed was growing larger, until one day it was pushed 
 up out of the water, and lay in the sweet sunshine — 
 to air, I suppose. 
 
GRANDMA KAOLINE'S STORY. 113 
 
 "It was lying there, so soft and cool and smooth, 
 when some strange-looking people came along. They 
 were not riding in carriages, for they had not yet 
 learned to make carriages. They were not riding on 
 horses, for they had not yet learned to tame the 
 horses, which were wilder than any untamed horse 
 you ever saw. They were all walking. Their feet 
 were bare, for they had not yet learned to make shoes 
 for themselves. They wore but few clothes, and what 
 they did wear were made of the skins of animals ; for 
 they had not yet learned to make cloth. 
 
 "They were thirsty, but they had "no dishes from 
 which to drink, for they had not yet learned to make 
 dishes. So th'ey dipped their hands in the pools, and 
 drank from the little cup which we can all make in 
 the. palms of our hands. 
 
 "A very pretty woman with a very pretty baby made 
 a cup for the baby from a large leaf. While she was 
 getting the leaf, she left the baby standing on the 
 cool bed of clay ; and when she came back to take him 
 up, there were the prints of his two pretty feet, with 
 each little toe as perfect as could be. The woman 
 looked at the little cups made by the pretty baby feet ; 
 -then she kissed the dimpled feet, tossed the baby over 
 her shoulder, and went with the other people, who 
 wandered around the country, not knowing how to 
 
114 GRANDMA KAOLINB'S STORY. 
 
 do much of anything, but learning a little every day. 
 
 "After a long time these same people came back 
 to the same place where the baby had stood in the clay 
 bed, and what do you suppose the baby's mother saw? 
 The two little cups made by baby feet had become 
 quite firm and hafd in the sunshine; and baby's father 
 and mother both shouted, 'Look ! look! Why can we 
 not make dishes from this stuff?' The people ran like 
 children, filled their hands with the soft clay, and 
 made deep dishes, like vases, in which they could keep 
 their seeds and grain; for they soon learned that 
 water would make their new dishes crumble in pieces. 
 After a long, long time somebody threw an old vase 
 into the fire; the fires, you must know, were built 
 upon the ground, for the people had not yet learned 
 to make stoves, nor had they learned how to make 
 matches. It was, therefore, so hard to kindle a fire 
 when it went out, that they took great pains to keep 
 one burning as long as they stayed in a place ; and it 
 was in one of these fires which burned many days, that 
 the old vase was thrown. You will see that the vase 
 must have been well baked before the people went 
 away to learn something else in their wanderings ; but 
 not knowing that a baked vase was any better than 
 an unbaked one, they left it in the ashes. 
 
 "After a very long time they came again to this 
 
GRANDMA KAOLINE'S STORY. 
 
 115 
 
 place, having learned how to take better care of their 
 babies, and to make better things for their own din- 
 ners. Somebody picked up the vase from the ashes, 
 
 and found it was very hard and smooth. They 
 poured some water in it, and the water did not make 
 it crumble; then they knew they could make dishes 
 by baking the clay in a very hot fire, and they danced 
 
116 GRANDMA KAOLINE'S STORY. 
 
 and shouted for joy, that dishes could be made to hold 
 milk and -water. 
 
 "They built great fires, and made more dishes than 
 they could use; they amused themselves by making 
 pictures on the unbaked dishes with sharp sticks. 
 These pictures would remain, of course. Sometimes 
 we find one of those old dishes now. After many 
 hundred years they learned to make china cups and 
 saucers. They learned many other useful things; so 
 that now we, who are their great-great-great-great- 
 great-great-grandchildren, live in good houses, have 
 good clothes and good food, and are still learning how 
 to use the things which the Careful Gardener has 
 placed here for us." 
 
THE LILAC BUDS. 
 
 Little Fredrika's home was a pleasant stone house 
 on Drexel Boulevard in the great city of Chicago. 
 There were many handsome bushes and flowers grow- 
 ing all along the boulevard, and although Fredrika 
 liked them all, her favorite was a fine old lilac that 
 grew just opposite her home. 
 
 There was a rustic bench beside it, where she spent 
 a good many hours in pleasant summer weather, some- 
 times playing "mother" or "school" with the other 
 little girls of the neighborhood, and sometimes sitting 
 quietly with her dolly, watching the fine carriages 
 and prancing horses as they dashed past. She was 
 ther,e so much that people grew quite used to seeing 
 the little girl in her big straw hat, curled up on the 
 rustic bench, with her dolly in her lap, and a sharp- 
 eyed Scotch terrier beside her; for "Gypsy," her 
 brother's pet, was as fond of the old lilac as Fredrika 
 herself. 
 
 She was so well acquainted with the old lilac and 
 had looked at it so often, that she could tell all about 
 it ; just when the lovely blossoms came, how long they 
 
 117 
 
118 THE LILAC BUDS. 
 
 lasted, when the leaves fell, and where the buds 
 appeared. 
 
 Just now, in the month of March, she was watching 
 the buds that the old bush had held all winter, for she 
 knew that when the air and sun were warm and bright 
 they would begin to grow ; and that, Fredrika thinks, 
 is one of the most curious things in the world. 
 
 One afternoon on her way home from school, she 
 stopped to look the lilac bush over, and see if any of 
 the buds were swelling. "Dear me," she said to her- 
 self, "it doesn't seem as if leaves and flowers could 
 be curled up in such tiny buds; I wonder if they're 
 comfortable in those little winter cradles. And how 
 do they know when to begin growing, and whether to 
 grow into leaves, stems, or blossoms?" 
 
 All at once, as she stood there, she heard the oddest 
 little laugh — not much louder than the buzzing of a 
 fly or the singing of a mosquito. "Why, what was 
 that?" said Fredrika; and then she heard it again. 
 It seemed to come from one of the branches of the 
 lilac, that was close beside her. 
 
 Fredrika turned, and looking closely, where the 
 sound came from, she saw a comical little man, about 
 as long as your forefinger, sitting on the lilac bough, 
 and looking at her with the drollest eyes you ever 
 saw. 
 
THE LILAC BUDS. 
 
 119 
 
 
 "NOW," SHE SAID TO HERSELF, "I MUST LISTEN AS 
 HARD AS I CAN." 
 
 His head looked like a hickory nut, with the sharp 
 end for a nose, and on it was an acorn cup for a cap ; 
 his suit was made of birch bark and Fredrika could 
 
120 THE LILAC BUDS. 
 
 see that the buttons were the pretty gray pussies from 
 the pussy-willows; his hair was long, and seemed to 
 be nothing but the soft silk from the corn; and his 
 shoes were snail shells — though how he could get 
 about so fast in them, Fredrika couldn't imagine. 
 
 This queer little fellow turned a couple of somer- 
 saults, looked at the little girl with his sharp black 
 eyes, and laughed again. "I declare," said Fredrika, 
 "you look just like the Brownies in my St. Nicholas. 
 You are one, aren't you?" 
 
 "No," said the little man; "I'm a cousin of the 
 Brownies. I'm a Boggle-de-boo. This is my lilac bush. 
 I live here all the year 'round with my family. Lily 
 cups and roses do very well for fairies, but I want 
 more room. I like to live where I can climb," and at 
 that, away he darted to the farthest end of the bough, 
 where he hung by his heels; and' before Fredrika got 
 used to seeing him with his head down, over he went 
 in another somersault, and alighted just at her elbow. 
 
 "Little girl," he said, "would you like to hear the 
 lilac buds talk? Then come here to-night, just as the 
 moon rises, and you shall. Good-bye;" and before 
 Fredrika could say a word he was gone. 
 
 When she told them of the Boggle-de-boo at the 
 dinner-table that night, her mother said, "Oh, Fred- 
 rika, what a strange child you are ! What does put 
 
THE LILAC BUDS. 121 
 
 such, fancies into your head?" But her father only 
 laughed and said, "They won't hurt her," and patted 
 her cheek and said, "Get nurse to take you out when 
 the moon rises, and then tell papa what you hear." 
 You see, he thought Fredrika imagined it all, and was 
 curious to see what she would say. 
 
 Fredrika kept watch, and just as soon as the moon, 
 which was large and round now, came up out of the 
 lake, she ran for nurse, and out they went to the rustic 
 seat under the old lilac. 
 
 Nurse soon strolled off to talk with a friend, and 
 Fredrika was left alone. 
 
 "Now," she said to herself, "I must listen just as 
 hard as ever I can." At first she heard only a faint 
 sound like the rustling of wind among the branches ; 
 but in a moment, sure enough, there were voices, talk- 
 ing all at once, and so fast that Fredrika couldn't 
 catch a word. By and by, however, she began to 
 know what it was all about ; and what do you think 
 the buds were so excited over? 
 
 Why, the lilac had just said, "Little Buds, I want 
 you to open those brown scales and unfold your leaves 
 and stems." Now one would think that that was just 
 what they'd like; but oh, dear ! the buds were just like 
 so many children — some lazy, some sleepy, and some 
 afraid — and they all spoke out at once. "Oh, no!" 
 
122 THE LILAC BUDS. 
 
 said the lazy and sleepy ones; "no, no; it can't be 
 time yet. We haven't had our sleep out. It's so com- 
 fortable here ! It's such a bother to begin growing." 
 
 And the timid ones said, "We're afraid, Lilac. There 
 was a very cold wind from the lake to-day. What if 
 we should have our tender little stems frozen ! And 
 the moon looks as if we were going to have snow." , 
 
 So they went on talking loudly and fast, complain- 
 ing so much that the old lilac finally grew impatient, 
 and gave them such a good shaking that the Whole 
 place was in quite a flutter, and the Boggle-de-boo 
 laughed so hard he came very near falling off his 
 branch. 
 
 "Now," said the lilac, "don't let me hear any more 
 of this nonsense. In the morning you shall all go to 
 work." She had never scolded them before, and the 
 buds were so frightened they kept still after that. 
 
 Just over Predrika's head was a bough that had one 
 of the finest buds of all, and the little girl had noticed 
 that when all the rest were talking so loudly this 
 little bud was singing all to itself. Of course she 
 couldn't hear the song very well until the place was 
 quiet, but now she heard it plainly. Just think of it ! 
 One dear little thing paying no attention to its 
 naughty brothers and sisters, but singing softly over 
 and over again : 
 
THE LILAC BUDS. 123 
 
 "The sunshine is bright and the air is mild, so it's 
 time to begin to grow." 
 
 It was beautiful, the little voice singing away there 
 in the moonlight. 
 
 Then the Boggle-de-boo spoke again : "Little Fred- 
 rika, this is the only good bud on this whole bush ; and 
 it shall go with you and unfold its slender stem and 
 dainty little leaves in your schoolroom. It deserves 
 to live with little boys and girls ; so take this branch 
 and run home. Good night," and Fredrika was alone 
 with the old lilac, curled up on the rustic bench in 
 the moonlight. 
 
 Just then nurse came back, and Fredrika quickly 
 broke off her bough and hurried home. 
 
 Papa said, "Well, little daughter, and what did the 
 Boggle-de-boo say this time?" 
 
 Of course Fredrika climbed up on his lap and told 
 her story, and of course they all laughed and said 
 again that she was a strange child. Indeed, they 
 wouldn't for a moment believe that she had really 
 seen and heard anything. 
 
 The next morning she took the lilac bough to school, 
 where it was put into a bottle of water, and the little 
 bud was so pleased with the idea of being in a school- 
 room that it soon unfolded a slender stem and pairs 
 of dear little leaves. 
 
124 THE LILAC BUDS. 
 
 When Fredrika told the children about the Boggle- 
 de-boo and his bush, they agreed to watch the lazy 
 and complaining buds; and if you want to know 
 whether or not they are growing, you must ask the 
 children who are watching. 
 
Smart Little Bud. 
 
 p 
 
 m 
 
 3^m 
 
 Si 
 
 1. A "smart - lit - tie bud on a li lac twig, 
 
 2. So it sent up a slen der and grace - ful stem, 
 
 §^n 
 
 affe^g 
 
 a 
 
 Whis - pered soft and low: "The sun-shine is bright and the 
 Dainty as ' e'er was seen, And pairs of dear lit - tie 
 
 new 
 
 k=F 
 
 N^^^ 
 
 air is mil.d, So it's time to be - gin to grow." 
 ten - der leaves All dress'd in the pal - est green. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 ^m 
 
 Yes, 
 
 yes, 
 
 yes, 
 
 Time 
 
 to be - gin 
 
 to 
 
 Yes, 
 
 yes, 
 
 yes, 
 
 Dress'd 
 
 in the pal 
 
 est 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 =* 
 
 grow; 
 green; 
 
 The 
 And 
 
 sun 
 pairs 
 
 shine is bright and the 
 of dear lit tie 
 
 tqi^g 
 
 mm 
 
 air ~ is mild, So it's time to be - gin to grow, 
 ten - der leaves All dressed in the pal est green. 
 
OLD SOL'S RAINBOW. 
 
 Old Sol lives up in the sky. He is large and round, 
 and so bright you cannot look at him in the middle of 
 the day. This earth of ours would find it hard work 
 to get along without old Sol. He gives her light and 
 heat. 
 
 Old Sol is very fond of children, and makes beau- 
 tiful: things for them to see. He paints the clouds at 
 sunset the most wonderful colors: pale pink, deep 
 rose, bright orange, fading away into faintest yellow, 
 until the whole western sky is aglow. Then again, he 
 makes the icicles, the frost, and the snowflake sparkle 
 like diamonds ; and — oh, yes ! he gives the petals of 
 the flowers their beauty. 
 
 One day last summer, old Sol looked at the earth 
 and said, "There's a poor little boy down there who 
 walks with crutches. He comes to the window every 
 day to see me. I'm sorry for him ; think I'll make 
 him a rainbow. He'll like that, I know." Then he 
 called to a cloud in the west. "Ho there, Cloud ! have 
 you any raindrops to-day?" 
 
 126 
 
OLD SOL'S RAINBOW. 
 
 127 
 
 "Plenty of t them," answered the cloud. "Why do 
 you ask?" 
 
 "I want to make a rainbow. Will they help me?" 
 
 The raindrops clapped their hands, and capered 
 about in their, joy at being asked. 
 
 "But do they know how to help?" said old Sol. 
 
 "Yes, yes, yes!" called the raindrops, before the 
 cloud could speak. 
 
 "Oh, you do, do you? Now then, do as I bid you," 
 said he, "and we'll have a rainbow worth seeing ; and 
 that's the truth. Go !" 
 
128 OLD SOL'S RAINBOW. 
 
 Down fell the raindrops, old Sol flashing his bright- 
 est beams through them. Before they could think 
 twice, the sunbeams found themselves tossed about in 
 the raindrops, pulled to pieces, and thrown to the 
 earth. In an instant a beautiful rainbow flashed 
 across the sky. 
 
 The lame boy leaned upon his crutches and watched 
 until the drops stopped falling and the lovely colors 
 faded. 
 
 Down in an alley there lay a glass prism, which 
 had once hung from a large gas fixture in a beautiful 
 house. 
 
 "What can these raindrops be making such a fuss 
 about?" said the prism, as the drops came splashing 
 about it. Then it lay quite still and listened. "Been 
 making a rainbow, have they?" thought the prism. 
 ".Pooh, that's nothing ! I could do it myself, if only I 
 had a chance.". Just then he was struck by the toe 
 of Johnny's boot. Johnny looked at the prism a 
 moment, then picked it up, and put it into his pocket. 
 
 The next day he was playing in the barn, when he 
 saw a small knot hole in one of the boards. Through 
 this knot hole old Sol was peeping, and Johnny held 
 his prism over it. 
 
 "Now is my time!" said the prism; "I'll try my 
 hand at making a rainbow." Wonderful ! Up came 
 
OLD SOL'S RAINBOW. 128 
 
 the sunbeams ; they crept into the prism on one side, 
 looking white, and crept out of it on the other side, 
 spread out like a fan that was painted with the colors 
 of the rainbow ! Johnny looked across the barn, and 
 there they were. 
 
 "That's very strange," thought he-, and he turned 
 the prism round and round. "Now I wonder what 
 does that?" 
 
 And Johnny hasn't found out yet. 
 
THE PINE TREE WHO HAD HER WISH. 
 
 "Oh me!" said a little Pine, "I don't like these 
 leaves of mine. Other trees have broad green leaves, 
 and in the fall they put on such rich colors of crim-, 
 son, orange and yellow. If Mother Nature had given 
 me my choice I would have chosen leaves that would 
 sjiine in the sunlight and dazzle the eyes of every 
 passer-by." 
 
 When the night came on and the sun had sunk 
 behind the western hills the Pine tree went to sleep. 
 And, while it slept, real golden leaves began to bud 
 upon its branches. That was just what it had wished 
 for. 
 
 At break of day the leaf-buds opened and all the 
 trees looked in wonder at the golden beauty of the 
 little Pine tree. How pleased it was! All day long 
 it shook the golden leaves and laughed merrily to see 
 them glisten. 
 
 But at night — poor little tree — the North Wind 
 came, caught the little leaves and carried them every 
 one away. 
 
 130 
 
THE PINE TREE WHO HAD HER WISH. 
 
 131 
 
 The little Pine's joy was turned to sorrow. It hung 
 its head and again went to sleep. 
 
 "Oh, if I had only wished for leaves of glass instead 
 of shining .gold!" were the last words the little tree 
 whispered as she fell asleep. 
 
 And while she slept another wonderful thing hap- 
 pened. Leaves of crystal glass — just such as she had 
 wished for — grew and covered the poor little 
 branches. - 
 
 And in the morning when the sun shone upon them 
 they sparkled and danced, sending out all the lovely 
 colors of the rainbow. 
 
 "Oh, this is a thousand times more beautiful!" 
 laughed the Pine tree. And again she sang for joy. 
 
 But when night came a dreadful hail-storm came 
 down upon the grove. It was so fierce that the 
 strong old trees bowed beneath it; and the little 
 
132 THE PINE TREE WHO HAD HER WISH. 
 
 Pine's leaves of crystal glass were broken into a 
 thousand pieces. 
 
 "Oh dear, oh dear," sobbed the little tree. "I see 
 now it was very foolish in me to wish to change my 
 leaves. Now if only I had leaves like the other trees 
 I should be content. Just simple green leaves. I do 
 not even care for the silver linings that the poplars 
 have." 
 
 Again the little tree slept. Again a wonderful 
 change came upon the leaves. 
 
 The broken pieces of crystal glass faded away, and 
 in their place burst out a host of fresh green leaves, 
 very small and pale, but very beautiful in the morn- 
 ing sun. 
 
 When the little Pine awoke and saw what had hap- 
 pened she gave a glad little cry. 
 
 "Oh!" she cried. "These are much lovelier than 
 leaves of gold or crystal." 
 
 But her lesson was not yet learned. During the 
 morning a little colt came frisking along. "Oh," said 
 the little colt, "what a dainty breakfast these leaves' 
 will make. How sweet and fresh they are." And he 
 stripped every branch of its beauty. 
 
 Then the little Pine burst into tears. She rocked 
 herself to and fro in her grief. 
 
 -?Oh how I wish I had my own needles back again," 
 
THE PINE TREE WHO. HAD HER WISH. 133 
 
 she cried. "At least they made me no trouble. They 
 were green and smooth; and sometimes in the sun- 
 light, and with the dew upon them, they were even 
 beautiful. Mother Nature knew what was best for 
 me after all and I have been a foolish, foolish tree." 
 
 The little Pine cried itself to sleep that night; but 
 good Mother Nature came and leaned over her and 
 kissed her. 
 
 In the morning, strange to say, when the little Pine 
 awoke, there were her own dear needles safe and 
 sound. Tears of joy sprang up in the little Pine's 
 heart. She gave a sigh of rest and contentment. Per- 
 haps if you and I had been there we should have 
 thought it the wind among the needles. And the 
 tears? — very likely we should have called them dew- 
 drops sparkling among the leaves. 
 
THE LITTLE MAPLE LEAVES. 
 
 Once there was an old maple tree that was so cov- 
 ered with beautiful leaves you could scarcely see the 
 brandies. 
 
 The old tree was very kind to the little leaves, and 
 fed them with such good sap which she got from the 
 earth all around, that they grew very large and 
 strong, and of a most beautiful green, dark above and 
 lighter below. 
 
 Then she gave them dainty little twigs and slender 
 boughs to swing from, and the little leaves were so 
 happy that all through the bright spring and summer 
 time they danced and fluttered about so much that 
 the air was almost always filled with their soft rustle. 
 
 NoW they were good little leaves, and wanted to 
 do something for the old tree in return for the food 
 she gave them, so they caught a part of the pure, 
 sweet air and gav.e her that; for you know even a 
 large tree cannot live without air, any more than you 
 or I can. 
 
 Well, they lived on through the long summer, days, 
 keeping bright and green, because they bathed in the 
 
 134 
 
THE LITTLE MAPLE LEAVES. 135 
 
 morning dews and soft summer showers, and fluttered 
 about in the sunshine so much. 
 
 Sometimes they had company. Now and then a 
 katydid would come and sing for them a whole, night 
 long; then a woodpecker, with his sharp eyes and 
 strong bill, would hop all over the old tree until he 
 found a troublesome worm, and when he did, I can 
 tell you, the worm had to leave in a twinkling; and 
 sometimes a plumy-tailed squirrel would dart about 
 the branches with a nut in his paws. So the little 
 leaves were . never lonesome with the birds, bugs, 
 insects, and squirrels all around them. 
 
 Autumn came. 
 
 Then thelittle leaves found it hard to stay upon 
 the tree. 
 
 "Something is the matter !" cried one. "I am get- 
 ting loose." 
 
 "So am I !" cried another. "I can hardly hold on 
 to my twig." 
 
 "There is a little round thing crowding me off !" ; 
 cried the third. 
 
 The old tree heard them. 
 
 "The little round things are my buds," she said. 
 "They must have your places, and you little leaves 
 must go out into the world and find a resting place 
 for the winter." 
 
.136 THE LITTLE MAPLE LEAVES. 
 
 They loyed her very much, but were glad of a 
 chance to see the great world about which they had 
 often heard. The tree helped them change their 
 dresses and get ready to leave. Some of them chose 
 bright yellow for their suits, some chose crimson, some 
 liked the yellow and crimson together, and others 
 said, "My summer dress was so pretty that I mean to 
 keep part of it," and their dresses were made of the 
 crimson and gold, with here and there a little spot 
 of the old green. 
 
 At last they were all dressed, and I wish you could 
 have seen the old tree then, such a mass of gay colors ! 
 Orange, crimson, green and yellow, flashing about in 
 the sunshine, making the old maple look just like a 
 wonderful bouquet. 
 
 I am afraid she grew a little vain, hearing so much, 
 about her beauty, for when anyone went along the 
 road at the foot of the hill, he would be sure to say, 
 "Oh, do see that tree !" "Isn't it lovely !" or "What a 
 beautiful tree!" and very often one would stop to 
 gather a few of the lovely leaves and carry them home 
 to make a little bit of summer when the snow and 
 frost came. 
 
 The little leaves were so pleased with their own 
 beauty that they never rested a moment, but were 
 always peeping at each other, whispering to the tree, 
 
THE LfTTLB MAPLE LEAVES. 137 
 
 and even singing soft little songs that I think the 
 fairies must have taught them on the moonlight nights 
 of that beautiful summer. 
 
 Then, one fine morning, they heard a rustling sound, 
 and along came the wind. 
 
 The little round buds had made the leaves so loose 
 that it was easy to snatch them up, and away they 
 went, hardly stopping to say "Good-bye" to the old 
 tree. 
 
 What a wonderful time they had ! dancing about, 
 up and down, here and there, through the cool air, 
 sometimes all together, sometimes in twos and threes, 
 and again each leaf sailing off on a little trip of its 
 own. 
 
 The wind enjoyed the fun, too, for he played with 
 them all day, and blew so hard that late in the after- 
 noon they were quite a long way from the old maple 
 tree. Then he said, "Look at the sun, little Leaves; 
 he will soon leave you in the dark. And now you 
 must find a place to rest in, for I, too, am going 
 away." 
 
 They looked at the sun, and there he was, like a 
 great ball of fire, sinking into a bed of rosy clouds. 
 
 Then the little leaves hunted about for beds, and 
 soon they were dropping, dropping, dropping down 
 through the fading light until they were all on the 
 
138 THE LITTLE MAPLE LEAVES. 
 
 ground — some in heaps beside the wall, others in the 
 fence corners, and still- others hiding under the bushes 
 in an old garden by the roadside. 
 
 The sun sank slowly out of sight, the wind stole 
 quietly away, and the darkness came softly up, cov- 
 ered- the little leaves and left them alone with the 
 night. 
 
The Maple Leaves. 
 
 
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A LIVING PLOUGH. 
 
 It is blind, it is deaf, it is dumb; it lives in the 
 cold dark earth under our feet, where we walk over 
 it and sometimes step on it, and yet — let me tell you 
 a secret — it knows how to do one thing much better 
 than you or I could do it, or any man in the world. 
 It knows how to plough the ground so that all the 
 green things — trees and flowers and grass — can 
 
 grow. Even the things that man himself plants need 
 the help of this plough. 
 
 But most of us do not know enough to be grateful 
 to it, hardly ever thinking of it at all, except, per- 
 haps, as food for robins or bait for fishes. Now you 
 have guessed what this wonderful plough is. Yes, 
 nothing but an earth-worm. But you will not scorn 
 
 141 
 
142 A LIVING PLOUGH. 
 
 it, I am sure, for you are not so foolish as to think a 
 thing cannot be of interest if it is common; and you 
 know that every ceature is useful, even if you do not 
 know just how. 
 
 Now, you must be wondering what a little worm 
 can do to help the golden-rod and the chestnut tree 
 to grow. First, I must tell you that it doesn't care 
 anything about them, but is just going quietly about 
 its own business, which is to get a living. 
 
 Its way of doing this is what makes it so useful to 
 growing things. First, our worm needs a home — a 
 place to hide in all day and to carry its food to all 
 night. For this it likes nothing as well as a hole in 
 the ground. So as soon as the baby worm is hatched 
 from the egg it begins to make its burrow. If the 
 earth is loose it can easily stretch to a point the 
 end where the mouth is and thus push in between the 
 particles. But suppose the earth is closely packed? 
 The poor worm has no tools, nor even hands and feet. 
 It has only a mouth. So its mouth it must use, and 
 it begins to eat the dirt! Yes, it makes a hole by 
 swallowing every bit of the earth it wants to get 
 rid of. 
 
 But very soon its little body is full. So it comes up 
 to the mouth of its burrow and there empties out the 
 earth in a neat little round pile, You can see these 
 
A LIVING PLOUGH. 143 
 
 worm castings almost any morning when it is not 
 very dry or very cold. Then the worm goes down 
 again and eats its hole a little deeper, keeping on un- 
 til it is perhaps as much as six or seven feetlong. At 
 the bottom it is hollowed out large enough for its 
 owner to coil up in cold or dry weather. But above 
 it is just big enough to fit the worm's body, so that it 
 can draw itself up and down by means of the little 
 hooks along its sides. 
 
 At the top of the burrow it packs in a nice lining of 
 dead leaves, which we suppose is to keep it from feel- 
 ing the cold earth when it rests near its front door in 
 the day-time. For the wise little worm will come out 
 only at night, when robins have gone to bed. Then it 
 will crawl about in search of dead leaves, which it 
 drags into its burrow to eat. But even if it finds no 
 dead leaves, it need not go hungry, for it can live on 
 dirt alone. There are in the dirt tiny seeds and 
 spores, which ferns and such plants bear instead of 
 seeds, as well as insects, and these the worm can eat. 
 
 But, you say, what good is all this? A worm 
 makes a hole and eats some dead leaves, but how 
 does that plough the ground? Ploughing the ground 
 is turning it over and loosening it up so that light 
 and air and sunshine and rain can get into it. Does 
 not the worm do this when it brings up dirt to the 
 
144 A LIVING PLOUGH. 
 
 surface from six or seven feet down? It is true, one 
 worm can do very little; so one honey-bee is a very 
 small creature; and one blade of grass does not 
 amount to much. But by eating a great number of 
 blades of grass, a big cow can live; and if ever so 
 many bees crowded together on one man they could 
 "sting him to death; and so by all working at the same 
 thing, millions and millions of worms can do a great 
 deal. 
 
 The millions and millions of holes these worms 
 make let light and rain and air into the earth. And 
 if a fresh pile of castings is left every morning beside 
 each door, .after a while there will be a thin layer of 
 them all over everywhere. And as they keep on 
 working, this layer. grows and grows until it is four 
 or five inches thick. This is called vegetable mould, 
 and it can be found in every country that is not too 
 dry. You can see for yourself by digging down into 
 some pasture or in the woods where you are sure the 
 soil has not been stirred up for years. At one side of 
 the hole you will find a layer of soil which is finer, 
 darker and richer. 
 
 Every bit of this vegetable mould has been through 
 the bodies of worms, and that is what has made it so 
 different from the rest. It is finer because it has been 
 ground up by the little stones in the worm's gizzard. 
 
A LIVING PLOUGH. 145 
 
 It is darker because it is richer, and it is richer be- 
 cause it has been mixed with digestive juices and 
 bits of dead leaves in the worm's body. The most 
 wonderful plough in the world, the worm has been 
 called, for it not only does all that the ploughs we 
 make can do, but more, for it manages the soil as 
 well! 
 
 So when a seed drops from the mother plant it 
 finds everything made ready for it by its best friend, 
 the worm. It may fall into a worm-hole, or be cov- 
 ered up by castings, and so lie protected until sprout- 
 ing time comes. Then when the first root pushes out 
 it has to thank the worm that the earth is in fine par- 
 ticles so that it can easily make a way among them. 
 And when its tiny root hairs begin to suck up food, it 
 is the worm again that has put there just what they 
 need to send up through the stem for the plant to 
 make leaves, flowers and fruit. 
 
 Did you ever stop tothink what this world of ours 
 would be without trees and flowers and grass? Sup- 
 pose the worms had not made any vegetable mould— 
 the seeds couldn't sprout, the grass couldn't grow, 
 the cows would have nothing to eat, and then what 
 should we live on? So, small and weak as they are, 
 we could hardly live without them. — Mary Mann 
 Miller, in Primary Ed. 
 
THE GREEN WORM. 
 
 One afternoon a little green worm went crawling 
 past a bed of marigolds. When the marigolds saw 
 him, they bent their bright orange and gold heads, 
 and said, one to another, "Here comes an ugly worm. 
 Let's see what he has to say." So they criedj "Good 
 afternoon, old Worm! and what are you going to 
 do?" 
 
 "I'm going to climb that tree," answered the worm. 
 
 Then all the marigolds laughed. "The stupid 
 thing!" they whispered, "he thinks he can climb a 
 tree! What a joke!" 
 
 "Well, but, Worm," said they, "why do you want 
 to climb a tree?" 
 
 "To make a warm little house to sleep in all win- 
 ter," said the worm; and on he crawled: 
 
 This was more of a joke than the other; and the 
 marigolds laughed so hard, they fell over against each 
 other. 
 
 "Make your house here in the grass," they said to 
 the worm. "We want to see you do it." 
 
 "Ah, no," said he; "a blade of grass couldn't hold 
 
 146 
 
THE GREEN WORM. 147 
 
 my house; and the children might crush it in their 
 play, or the gardener run the lawn mower over it," 
 and away he went again, toward the tree, and began 
 to climb the trunk. 
 
 "He'll fall in a moment," said one of the marigolds. 
 "He won't get half way up," said another ; but they 
 were mistaken. 
 
148 THE GREEN WORM. 
 
 Up, up, up, slowly and carefully he crept, looking 
 about for a good place for his house. 
 
 The tree was well acquainted with all the worms, 
 and kept a great many twigs just for them to build on. 
 
 When she saw the green worm she saidj "I'm glad 
 to see you, Worm. Here's a twig I have been keeping 
 for you." 
 
 The worm found it, and stopped a moment to rest. 
 "I never built a house," he said to himself, "but I 
 know I can. Let me see; if I make it round, I'll have 
 to lie curled up inside. No, the shape of my body will 
 be better, and I'll fasten it well to the tree." He then 
 began spinning small whitish threads, and throwing 
 them about in a most wonderful way. 
 
 They caught here and there on the little twigs, and 
 as the busy worm moved hi$ head from side to side, 
 the beautiful threads fell all over his body, until at 
 last it was hidden away' in the snuggest little house 
 you ever saw; and best of all, the house was tightly 
 fastened to the old tree. 
 
 In the morning the marigolds looked for the worm, 
 but could see nothing but a queer-looking, brownish 
 lump on the tree. 
 
 "I declare," said one of the orange marigolds, "that 
 worm knew more than we thought he did. He really 
 
THE GREEN WORM. 149 
 
 has made a house, and is asleep inside, I suppose. I 
 wonder what he made it of." 
 
 "Silk from the corn, I guess," said one. "It looks 
 like it." 
 
 "More like cobweb," said another. 
 
 "I think," said a third, "that the worm chewed up 
 bits of paper for it." 
 
 "All wrong !" called the tree. "You laughed at the 
 worm because he was so ugly ; but he was wiser than 
 you all." 
 
 To this day, the marigolds wonder of what the worm 
 made his house. Could you tell them? 
 
MORE ABOUT THE GREEN WORM. 
 
 Little Green Worm, wrapped in his pretty white 
 blanket, slept and dreamed through all the cold 
 winter days, and long, dark winter nights. 
 
 Old blustering North Wind saw him and said, "Now 
 I'll have some fun with that fellow. I'll shake little 
 Green Worm out of his cozy house." So he laughed 
 and laughed. He really roared, he was so merry, and 
 he shook the tree and tossed the tiny house about, 
 but it did not frighten little Green Worm. It did not 
 loosen the threads of silk that were fastened so care- 
 fully to the twig. 
 
 Then a dismal fellow, named Cold Rain came out 
 of a dark cloud, and brought his daughters, Sleet and 
 Hail, with him. They beat on the little house with 
 their fingers, and tried to pull it open or pick it to 
 pieces; but it was very strong, and they could not 
 hurt it. 
 
 One night, when the wind and the rain were sleep- 
 ing, and the stars shone very brightly in the sky, 
 Giant Great Cold came from his home near the North 
 Pole. He drove strong white horses, that came very 
 swiftly. Now poor little Green Worm will surely die! 
 
 150 
 
MORE ABOUT THE GREEN WORM. 151 
 
 Nothing can resist Giant Great Cold. The flowers 
 wither and die, the leaves curl up, the brook grows 
 still, and the birds fly away when they hear him com- 
 ing. But little Green Worm is safe and happy in 
 his tiny house, while the wind, the rain, and the cold 
 are ruling the world. He had one friend, Miss White 
 Snow, who spread a downy cover all over him, and 
 promised to keep him safely while she stayed. At 
 last the sun grew warm, and White Snow flew before 
 it ; the gentle South Wind sang all day, and the birds 
 and blossoms called to little Green Worm that it was 
 time to wake up. So he slowly opened one eye, and 
 then the other, and stirred very gently. The apple 
 blossoms sent him a sweet message: "It's May, Green 
 Worm, wake up." The violets whispered, "It's May." 
 The birds whistled, "Lazy fellow, wake up ; wake up." 
 Green Worm could sleep, no longer, so he opened 
 the door and came out of his house. Something very 
 strange had happened. He did not feel like himself. 
 He first noticed that instead of five pairs of short legs, 
 he had long slender ones — three on each side. These 
 were jointed, and could be folded up or stretched out, 
 as he pleased. After trying them all, one at a time, 
 he stood upright and looked about him. How sweet 
 everything was that lovely May morning ! Something 
 whispered to him, "You have wings. You can fly." 
 
152 MORE ABOUT THE GREEN WORM. 
 
 Sure enough! Closely folded Avere four wonderful 
 wings, two on each side. They were covered with tiny, 
 feather-like hairs, or scales, Of the most brilliant 
 colors, blue and gold and gray, with spots of crimson. 
 They could be spread out in the warm sunshine or 
 folded together. Oh, how happy was Green Worm! 
 He fluttered down into the garden, lighting on one 
 flower after another. They all nodded to him, and 
 said, "Good morning," and seemed glad to see him. 
 He wondered why he was not hungry; for he 
 remembered that he used to be always hungry. Then 
 he noticed that his strong jaws, that could bite so well 
 and so fast, had disappeared, and a long, thread-like 
 tube, prettily coiled, had taken their place. On each 
 side of this were beautiful waving feathers, which 
 seemed to show Green Worm where to go and what 
 to do. A pan of water stood in the garden, from which 
 the birds had been drinking, and he lighted on the 
 edge and used it for a mirror, for he wanted to see 
 how he looked. There he saw his beautiful wings, his 
 feathered antennae, his tube-like mouth, his slender 
 legs, his bright eyes, and exclaimed, "Why, I'm not 
 green, and I'm not a worm ! What am I?" Just then 
 two children ran by, and one cried, "Oh, do see that 
 lovely butterfly!" "No," said the other, "that's a 
 moth; isn't he a beauty, though?" They tried to 
 
MORE ABOUT THE GREEN WORM. 153 
 
 cafch him, but Mr. Moth, as we must now call him, 
 , flew into the apple tree, and sucked a very little dew 
 and honey from the pink blossoms. "Oh," he cried, 
 "this is grand ! Why, what a miserable fellow I used 
 to be, crawling on the ground and eating such coarse 
 food ! I shudder now to think of it. How Gay Mari- 
 gold laughed at me when I tried to climb the tree ! 
 Where is he? I must find him, and tell him it is my 
 . turn now to laugh." 
 
 But Gay Marigold could not be found ; he had died 
 when Giant Great Cold drove past, and his children 
 were just beginning to look out of their winter houses. 
 
 Day after day Mr. Moth fluttered about, admiring 
 himself in every mirror he could find, and wondering' 
 what power had changed him in the little house that 
 hung on the twig of a tree. Everybody and everything 
 liked him now. When he was Green Worm the chil- 
 dren were afraid of him or tried to kill him; now 
 they said, "Come and see us, Pretty Moth ; we won't 
 hurt you." 
 
 Though he was so happy, Mr. Moth grew very tired 
 and weak. He no longer cared for honey or for dew. 
 Something whispered to him, "Your work is done; 
 now it is time to go." So one day Mr. Moth ceased 
 to breathe, and the children found him lying in the 
 bed of violets, and brought him in for their cabinet. 
 
THE STORY OF TAD AND POLLY. 
 
 Little Polly Wog and her cousin Tad Pole were 
 playing merrily in the water one pleasant May morn- 
 ing. Polly had on a nice brown dress that the water 
 did not hurt, with lovely fringe and lace about the 
 neck. She had just finished her breakfast of lily 
 leaves and water grass. Her eyes were bright and 
 her heart gay, and she thought the world was a very 
 big and happy place. 
 
 Tad was not so active as usual. He soon tired of 
 playing with Polly, and seemed to want to rest. 
 
 "What is the matter with you, Cousin Tad Pole?" 
 said Polly. 
 
 "I don't know," sighed Tad. 
 
 "How funny you do look ! Your cheeks are so fat, 
 you don't look like yourself. Come and play with 
 me." 
 
 "I'm so tired." murmured Tad, "I think I will go 
 to sleep." 
 
 At that moment old Mr. Perch came rushing up, 
 expecting to make a fine breakfast of them both. 
 Polly darted into the water, to the very bottom of the 
 
 154' 
 
THE STORY OF TAD AND POLLY. 155 
 
 pond, and hid. When she came again to the surface, 
 Tad was nowhere to be seen; she thought that Mr. 
 Perch had eaten him, and was very quiet and sad for 
 several days. 
 
 Then Miss Polly began to feel very queer, and all 
 the world seemed changed. She no longer cared for 
 lily leaves and water grasses, but snapped at the bee- 
 tles and flies that came near her. The fringe about 
 her throat had gone, she could not tell where. She 
 could no longer breathe under the water. Her very 
 form was changing. She heard strange voices every- 
 where. The rushes whispered to her, and the sedges 
 sighed, and the water lilies sang : 
 
 ' ' Polly — wig — wog, 
 Polly — wog — frog, 
 Pretty Polly Frog- 
 Frog, Frog, Frog." 
 
 And then Polly would sing softly to herself, "Pretty 
 Polly Wog — Frog, Wog, Frog." 
 
 One day she went to sleep in a cozy little nook 
 near the edge of the water, and when she awoke and 
 rubbed her eyes, she was very much surprised. She 
 had queer little feet, and. long slender legs. She 
 found that she could jump in a wonderful way, and 
 that flies and bugs were very nice for breakfast. Her 
 dress, too, had changed. It was light green, with a 
 
156 THE STORY OF TAD AND POLLY. 
 
 brown jacket and cap that Polly liked very much. She 
 then saw a fine young frog coming toward her, who- 
 made a low bow and said in a deep bass voice, 
 
 "Good morning, Miss Cousin Polly Wog." 
 
 "Oh, oh!" cried Polly, "I do believe you are my 
 cousin Tad Pole. I thought Mr. Perch had eaten 
 you." 
 
 "No, indeed," said he ; "I am having a grand time, 
 and my name is no longer Tad Pole; it is Mr. Bull 
 Frog." 
 ' "And I am known as Miss Frog," said Polly. 
 
 "Very nice," growled Tad. "Now if you will come 
 with me, I will take you to the frog concert. I sing 
 bass, as you may imagine, and have a very sweet 
 voice." 
 
 "You vain fellow!" said Polly. "I can sing too. 
 Let us go." 
 
 And they danced away together, two happy frogs. 
 
DOROTHY'S EXPERIMENT. 
 
 Dorothy had three seeds : a lima bean, a pea, and 
 a kernel of corn. 
 
 Before her on the table were three glasses,— two 
 filled with rich black earth and one with fine sand. 
 
 Dorothy took the seeds from the water where they 
 had been soaking, and put them into the glasses, 
 shoving them about half way down and next the glass, 
 where they could see all that went on outside. 
 
 The kernel of corn and the lima bean had the rich 
 black earth to rest in, while the little round pea 
 curled up in the sand. 
 
 "Now, then," said Dorothy, who liked to use large 
 words, "I am going to try an ex-per-i-ment ; they say 
 that seeds need sunshine, earth, and water to make 
 them grow. I'll find out if it's true." 
 
 Thereupon she put the glass with the kernel of 
 corn into a closet and closed the door; the other two 
 she placed on the window-sill. 
 
 The seeds were asleep when Dorothy planted them, 
 but before long Dame Nature whispered that it was 
 time to grow, and the life in each awoke. 
 
 157 
 
158 
 
 DOROTHY'S EXPERIMENT. 
 
 "Ah !" said the kernel of corn, "it's a pity that child 
 put me into this dark place; I can't grow very well 
 without sunshine, but it will never do to give up. My 
 brothers and I feed too many people and animals for 
 that. I shall have water to drink and plenty of food, 
 for after I use all of my own I can get more from this 
 
 rich earth." And it bravely went to work that minute 
 on a stem and root. 
 
 The trouble with the corn was, that it could see a 
 bit of light through a crack in the door, and although 
 it tried hard not to think about the sunshine, it could 
 not help reaching toward that bit of light all the time. 
 This made its stem long and thin, and pining for the 
 
DOROTHY'S EXPERIMENT. 159 
 
 • 
 
 sunshine made it so pale that kind little Dorothy felt 
 sorry for it. 
 
 "Something tells me to grow," said - the pea. "To 
 be sure there's no earth here, but I can feed my own 
 stem and root for quite a while; there's no time to 
 lose; indeed I must begin at once," which it did. 
 
 "Was ever a seed so lucky as I?" said the lima bean; 
 "a glass house, very warm and light, plenty of food 
 and drink, — surely it would be wrong for me to lie 
 here idle." 
 
 Just then Dorothy came with water and the bean 
 drank so much that its skin cracked. 
 
 "Good," said a dainty stem that was curled up 
 inside, "now I can get out ;" and it stretched its head 
 up to the crack ; but it was too short to even look out. 
 
 "It. won't be long before I can, though," said the 
 stem to itself, and it told the truth, for it grew so fast 
 that Dorothy told her mother it was as-ton-ish-ing. 
 
 There was a busy root, too (Dorothy called it the 
 stem's "little brother"), working its way downward 
 at the same time. 
 
 It seemed strange, but for a fact, the pea did almost 
 as well without earth as the bean did with it. 
 
 "The reason for that," said wise Dorothy, "is that 
 both are feeding on the food packed away under their 
 skins; when that is gone, we'll see a difference." 
 
160 DOROTHYS EXPERIMENT. 
 
 Dorothy was ri«lit, for when the lit Lie roots began 
 feeling about for food, the one that belonged to the 
 bean found much more than the other; so of "course 
 t he bean plant grew faster than the pea vine. 
 
 Dorothy watched the little plants for a few weeks, 
 then gave them a new home in a flower bed, in her 
 own garden. 
 
 When they were taken from the glasses, the lima 
 bean had a strong stem with a pair of beautiful leaves 
 at the top, and many, rootlets. The earn showed 
 leaves,' stem, and root so : pale and tliin that Dorothy 
 feared it would not live in the garden ; while the pea 
 had just reached the top of the glass, and was getting 
 ready to unfold its leaves. 
 
THE WEE-WEE MAN. 
 
 The wee-wee man lived in the land of Fancy. 
 
 He had a wee- wee house, made of slate pencils with 
 rows of jack-stones along the edges. The chimney 
 was an open-top thimble. 
 
 When the house was done he had pencils enough 
 left to make a high fence around it. On top of each 
 post was a rubber ball. 
 
 The pencils, the jack-stones, the balls and the 
 thimble had been lost by careless little children. 
 
 The wee-wee man found handkerchiefs enough 
 to carpet his whole house, put awnings over the win- 
 dows and doors, and a flag on the roof. 
 
 And so many gloves and mittens did he pick up 
 that he made a soft couch of them for each room. 
 
 After the fence was made, the wee-wee man said, 
 "I must have a garden, but where shall I find seed?" 
 
 Good Dame Nature heard him. "I'll send you 
 seed," said she; "watch for it," and she began to sing : 
 
 "The wee-wee man, the wee-wee man, 
 
 He wants a wee-wee garden; 
 Now, who will help the wee-wee man 
 
 To make his wee-wee garden?" 
 161 
 
162 THE WEE-WEE MAN. 
 
 A blue bird was flying past with a seed in aw 
 
 ruouth. , 
 
 She dropped it and flew off for another, singing-: 
 
 "I will help the wee-wee man 
 To make his wee-wee garden." 
 
 The brook that rippled past was carrying seed from 
 its old home among the hills. 
 
 It heard Dame Nature and tossed the seeds upon 
 the bank, and went on its way, singing : 
 
 "Here are seeds for the wee-wee man 
 To plant in his wee-wee garden." 
 
 A squirrel sprang over the slate-pencil fence. 
 "Oh!" cried, the wee-wee man, "how you made me 
 jump !" 
 
 The squirrel laid a nut at his feet and chattered : 
 
 "Here's a nut for the wee-wee man 
 To plant in his wee-wee garden." 
 
 And away went the squirrel. 
 
 The wind blew and sighed and whistled, and with 
 each sigh and whistle down came a dainty little thing 
 with silky wings of white. 
 
 First a dandelion, then a thistle and then a milk- 
 weed seed. 
 
 "Dear, dear ! What a garden I shall have !" said 
 the wee-wee man. 
 
 And the seeds were still coming. 
 
THE WEE-WEB MAN. ' 163 
 
 There was a little dog living in the land of Fancy. 
 
 He was a very queer little dog, unlike any you 
 have ever seen. He liked to be dragged about all day 
 by a tight rope around his neck. He liked to have a 
 big lazy boy harness him to a cart; he liked to draAV 
 the big lazy boy and be whipped by him ; he liked to 
 have his ears and tail pulled, and to be tied up and 
 left a whole day without food or drink. Very queer, 
 was he not? 
 
 This little dog had shaggy hair. When he heard 
 Dame Nature, and saw what the bird, the squirrel, 
 the brook and the wind were doing, why ! he wanted 
 to help. So away he bounded, barking — for he 
 couldn't sing to save his life. 
 
 "I'll bring seeds for the wee-wee man 
 To plant in his wee-wee garden." 
 
 Back he came with bis shaggy hair quite full. They 
 were covered with such sharp little points that the 
 wee-wee man hurt his fingers getting them off. 
 
 Then the wee-wee man planted the seeds in his wee- 
 wee garden and waited for them to grow. 
 
 They slept all winter, and with Dame Nature's help, 
 all except the nut sprouted as soon as spring came, 
 and the wee-wee man had his garden. 
 
 He thought it was very fine, but I suppose you 
 would have, called it only a tangle of weeds. 
 
THE TOWEL'S PARTY. 
 
 The clouds had given no rain for months. 
 
 The tree was very thirsty. 
 
 "I am pining for water," it said. 
 
 "Cheer up" called the rootlets. "We'll get you some." 
 
 And down they went, farther and farther into the 
 
 earth. 
 Par below was water. 
 
 Said the water, "Let's go and help the tree." 
 Up, up, up it crept through the earth, until it reached 
 
 the rootlets. 
 
 "I don't know about that story," said Beth, "Water 
 can't go up !" 
 
 The room was quiet and warm and Beth was sleepy. 
 Her eyes closed and her head began to nod, when sud- 
 denly ! What was that? Surely the towel on the back 
 of the chair winked at her! yes, winked. 
 
 Beth started and slowly before her face and eyes a 
 fold of the towel changed into a smiling mouth, then 
 out came a nose, then a pair of twinkling eyes. 
 
 "What in the, world is the matter with that towel?" 
 thought Beth. 
 
 164 
 
THE TOWEL'S PARTY. 
 
 165 
 
 The smiling mouth opened and the towel spoke: 
 "You're a strange child," it said. "Can't see how 
 water gets through the earth? I'm going to have a 
 party. You may come to it. Then you'll know." 
 
 "You're going to have a party!" repeated Beth. 
 "I never heard of a towel having a party." 
 
 Sufjx,£6>'%"-' 
 
 "No matter," said the towel, "I'm going to have 
 one. It's a capillary attraction party!" 
 
 "A what?" cried Beth. 
 
 "A capillary attraction party. Now, be quiet, for 
 I hear some one coming." 
 
 Beth listened and a kind of sliding sound reached 
 
166 THE TOWEL'S PARTY. 
 
 her ear. The next moment in slid her mother's best 
 lamp, while behind it rolled and rattled the burner 
 and wick. 
 
 "We've come to the capillary attraction party, little 
 girl," said the lamp, and on it slid to the middle of 
 the floor, the burner and wick hurrying after. 
 
 .Then came a queer little voice from the sugar-bowl 
 on the table and a rattling against the lid. "Let me 
 out, let me out," said the voice. "I want to go tq the 
 capillary attraction party." 
 
 Beth lifted the lid and out hopped a beautiful lump 
 of sugar. 
 
 At the edge of the table it stopped, asjf afraid, 
 when up came a saucer, holding a little tea and slyly 
 pushed it' off. - 
 
 "Shall I help you down too?" said Beth to the 
 saucer. 
 
 "Oh, yes, if you piease, miss." 
 
 Beth did so and away went the saucer after the 
 sugar. 
 
 "What next, I wonder?" thought Beth. "Oh, you're 
 coming, are you?" she added, as an ink-bottle with 
 large wings of blotting paper came flying in. 
 
 Beth was busy watching the ink-bottle when some- 
 thing large and soft struck her head. 
 
 Turning she saw a sponge. 
 
THE TOWEL'S PARTY. 16? 
 
 "Here I am," said the sponge, cheerfully, "all the 
 way from your schoolroom. Good afternoon, every- 
 body," and the sponge sat down. 
 
 All this time a basin of water on the floor was coax- 
 ing. "I want to go to the capillary attraction party. 
 Why can't I go? Please let me go !" 
 
 "Be still," said the towel. "You're at the party 
 now, you stupid." 
 
 "Now, my friends," cried the towel, "Here's a little 
 girl who doesn't see how water gets through the 
 earth. Shall we show her?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed," said the oil. 
 
 "To be sure," said the water. 
 
 "That we will," said the ink. 
 
 "Well, then, show her," ordered the towel. 
 
 In a twinkling the burner jumped to its place on 
 the lamp ; the wick dropped into the oil ; the sugar into 
 the saucer ; the blotting paper wings into the ink, and 
 the sponge into the water. The towel dipped its 
 fringe into the basin, too. 
 
 "See here, little.girl," said the oil as it crept up the 
 wick. 
 
 "And here, little girl," said the tea as it crept into 
 the sugar. 
 
 "Look at me, little girl," said the ink as it crept 
 into the blotting paper. 
 
168 THE TOWEL'S PARTY. 
 
 "Look at me, little girl," said the water as it crept 
 up into the sponge and towel. 
 
 "I've seen all that dozens of times," cried Beth. 
 "I don't " 
 
 She was stopped by a hand that gave her a good 
 shake and a voice that said. ;< Come, come ! wake up ! 
 Supper's ready." Beth rubbed her eyes and looked 
 around. 
 
 Was it all a dream, then? 
 
 On the table was the very lamp she had seen at the 
 party. 
 
 "Mother," said Beth, "what's capillary attraction?" 
 
 "What does the child mean?" said her mother. 
 
 "Oh !" cried Tom, "she heard the teacher say that 
 to-day!" 
 
 "I didn't," said Beth. , "I heard it in my sleep." 
 
 "You did," answered impolite Tom. 
 
 "I didn't," said Beth. 
 
 "You did," said Tom. 
 
 It was lucky the milk toast got into their mouths 
 just then and stopped the quarrel. 
 
FEBRUARY TWELFTH. 
 
 It was early in the evening in a shop where flags 
 were sold. 
 
 There were large flags, middle-sized flags, small 
 flags and little bits of flags. The finest of all was 
 Old Glory. Old Glory was made of silk and hung in 
 graceful folds from the wall. 
 
 "Attention !" called Old Glory. 
 
 Starry eyes all over the room looked at him. 
 
 "What day of the month is it?" 
 
 "February Twelfth," quickly answered the flags. 
 
 "Whose birthday is it?" "Abraham Lincoln's." 
 
 "Where is he buried?" "Springfield, Illinois." 
 
 "Very well," said Old Glory, "you are to take some 
 of Uncle Sam's children there to-night." 
 
 "Yes, captain," said the flags, wondering what he 
 meapt. 
 
 "First, I must know whether you are good Ameri- 
 can flags. Hqw many red stripes have you?" 
 
 "Seven !" was the answer. 
 
 "How many white stripes?" "Six!" 
 
 "How many stars?" "Forty-five!" shouted the 
 large flags. 
 
 169 
 
170 FEBRUARY TWELFTH. 
 
 The little ones said nothing. 
 
 "Ah," I see," said Old Glory, "but you are not to 
 blame. Do you see that open transom?" he went on. 
 "Go- through it into the street, put your staffs intoihe 
 hands of any little boys you find and bring them 
 here." 
 
 "Yes, captain," called the flags, as they , fluttered 
 away. 
 
 Last of all, Old Glory pulled his silken stripes into 
 the hallway and waited for the flags to come back. 
 "It's much too cold for little girls," he said to him- 
 self. "Their pretty noses might freeze." 
 
 By and by the flags came back, each bringing a 
 small boy. Old Glory looked at them. 
 
 "What's the matter?" said he; "you don't seem 
 pleased." 
 
 No one spoke, the little boys stared with round eyes 
 at Old Glory, but held tightly to the Bags. 
 
 At last one of the flags said: "Please, captain, 
 these are the only little boys we could find." 
 
 "Well 1" said Old Glory. "And we think they don't 
 belong to Uncle Sam," was the answer.' 
 
 "Why not?" said. Old Glory. 
 
 "Some of them are ragged," called one flag,. 
 
 "And some are dirty," said another. 
 
 "This one is a colored boy," said another. 
 
FEBRUARY TWELFTH. 171 
 
 "Some of them can't speak English at all." 
 
 "The one I found, why, he blacks boots!" 
 
 "And mine is a newsboy." 
 
 "Mine sleeps in a dry goods box." 
 
 "Mine plays a violin on the street corner." 
 
 "Just look at mine, captain!" said the last flag 
 proudly, when the rest were through. 
 . "What about him?" asked Old Glory. 
 
 f'l'm sure he belongs to Uncle Sam; he lives in a 
 brown-stone house and he wears such good clothes !" 
 
 "Of course I belong to Uncle Sam," said the brown- 
 stone boy quickly, "but I think these street boys do 
 not." 
 
 "There, there !" said Old Glory; "Firtelephone to 
 VVashington and find out," and Old Glory floated 
 away. 
 
 The little boys watched and waited. 
 
 Back came Old Glory. 
 
 "It's all right," said he, "Uncle Sam says every 
 one of you belongs to him and he wants you to be 
 brave and honest, for some day he may need you for 
 soldiers; oh, yes! and he said, 'Tell those poor little 
 chaps who have such a hard time of it and no one to 
 help them, that Mr. Lincoln was a poor boy too, and 
 f^t he was the grandest and best of all my sons.' " 
 
 The moon was just rising. 
 
172 FEBRUARY TWELFTH. 
 
 It made the snow and ice shine. 
 
 "It's almost time," said Old Glory softly. 
 
 "Hark! you must not wink, nor cough nor sneeze 
 nor move for three-quarters of a minute !" 
 
 That was dreadful ! 
 
 The newsboy swallowed a cough. 
 
 The bootblack held his breath for fear of sneezing. 
 
 The brown-stone boy shut his eyes so as not to 
 wink. 
 
 They all stood as if turned to stone. 
 
 Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, came a faint sound of bells. 
 
 Nothing else was heard but the beating of their own 
 hearts. 
 
 In exactly three-quarters of a minute, Old Glory 
 said, "What do you think of that?" 
 
 Behold ! a wonderful fairy sleigh, white as a snow : 
 drift, and shining in the moonlight as if covered with 
 diamond dust. 
 
 It was piled high with softest cushions and robes 
 of fur. 
 
 It was drawn by thirteen fairy horses, with arch- - 
 ing necks and flowing manes and tails. 
 
 Each horse wore knots of red, white and blue at 
 his ears and the lines were wound with ribbons of 
 the same. 
 
 "Jump in," said Old Glory. 
 
FEBRUARY TWELFTH. 173 
 
 Into the midst of the cushions and furs they 
 sprang. 
 
 Crack went the whip, tinkle went the bells. Over 
 the house-tops, through the frosty air, among the 
 moonbeams, up and away sailed fairy horses and 
 sleigh, American flags and Uncle Sam's boys. 
 
 Santa Claus -with, his reindeer never went faster. 
 
 Presently the tinkling bells were hushed, and the 
 fairy horses stood very still before the tgmb of Abra- 
 ham Lincoln^ 
 
 "Come," said Old Glory, and he led them inside. 
 
 You must get your father or mother to tell you 
 what they saw there. 
 
 Just before they left, a dirty little hand touched 
 Old Glory and a shrill little voice said : "I'd like to 
 leave my flag here. May I ?" 
 . ."And may I ?" said another. 
 
 Old Glory looked around and saw the same wish in 
 the other faces. 
 
 "You forget," said he, "that the flags are not yours. 
 It would not be right to keep them. What did the 
 people call Mr. Lincoln? You don't know? Well, I'll 
 tell you. It was 'Honest Old Abe,' and Uncle Sam 
 wants you to be like him." 
 
 Again the merry bells tinkled, again the proud 
 horses,- with their flowing manes and tails, sprang into 
 
174 FEBRUARY TWELFTH. 
 
 the air, and before the moon had said "good night" 
 to the earth, they were back at the flag shop. 
 
 The very moment they reached it, horses -and sleigh, 
 cushions and robes, melted away and the children 
 saw them no more. 
 
Hurrah for the Flag! 
 
 M. H. HOW1ISTOM. 
 
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 Then I'd want a part of a fleecy cloud, 
 And some red from a rainbow bright, 
 And pnt them together side by side, 
 
 For my stripes of Red and White. 
 We shall always love the stars and stripes, 
 
 And we mean to be ever true 
 To this land of ours and the dear old flag. 
 The Red, the ml - Ji - "-A ra "- 
 Wave small flags m singing Chorus. 
 
 5. 
 
FEBKUAKY TWENTY-SECOND. 
 
 Uncle Sam and the Goddess of Liberty are great 
 friends. 
 
 The Goddess of Liberty spends most of her time 
 on top of a very high building in the city of Washing- 
 ton. 
 
 Sometimes she comes down and dresses up for a 
 street parade. 
 
 Then she wears a dress of red and white stripes 
 with a blue waist covered with stars. 
 
 On her head is a liberty cap. 
 
 One day the Goddess of Liberty looked down from 
 the high building at Uncle Sam. 
 
 He was tipped back in his chair, with his old white 
 hat very far back on his head, and his hands in his 
 pockets. He was laughing. 
 
 "Hello, Uncle Sam !" called the Goddess of Liberty, 
 "Now what's the joke?" 
 
 "Ha, ha!" chuckled Uncle Sam. "That was a good 
 idea, to be sure." 
 
 "What was a good idea?" said the Goddess of Lib- 
 erty. 
 
 177 
 
178 FEBRUARY TWENTY-SECOND. 
 
 "Why, Old Glory taking those little boys of mine 
 to see Mr. Lincoln's tomb." And he told her about it. 
 
 The Goddess of Liberty thought a while, then she 
 called, "I say, Uncle Sam !" 
 
 "Well?"-said Uncle Sam. 
 
 "Wasn't it a pity your little girls lost that trip?" 
 
 "Y-e-s," said Uncle Sam, slowly, stroking his whis- 
 kers. "But it couldn't be helped, you see." 
 
 "Ah !" said the Goddess of Liberty, and she thought 
 a moment longer. 
 
 Then she cried again, "I say, Uncle Sam!" 
 
 "Well?" said Uncle Sam. 
 
 "The twenty-second of February is George Wash- 
 ington's birthday." 
 
 "Oh, I know that," said Uncle Sam. 
 
 "Why can't you take a party of little girls to his 
 tomb on that day?" 
 
 " "The very thing!" said Uncle Sam, slapping his 
 knee. "I'll begin hunting them up this very day." 
 
 And he did. 
 
 Every time he saw a little girl he lifted his old 
 white hat, with the band of stars about it, and- said, 
 "My dear, would you like to go with me to Mt. Ver- 
 non on the twenty-second of February?" 
 
 "Yes, thank you, Uncle Sam," said all the little 
 girls. 
 
FEBRUARY TWENTY-SECOND. 1?9 
 
 When the morning came such an odd crowd was 
 seen at the boat landing. 
 
 Like the little boys, they were all sizes and kinds. 
 
 Little girls with beautiful dresses and hats ; little 
 girls with dark faces and funny kinky braids ; little 
 girls who looked as if they had but half enough to 
 eat ; and poor little things whose worn clothes showed 
 they had no kind mothers to care for them. 
 
 But when Uncle Sam came with the Goddess of 
 Liberty, he patted a cheek here and there; spoke a 
 kind word or two, and smiled upon all, as if he loved 
 each and every one. 
 
 A big steamer came to take them down the river. 
 
 The name of the steamer was "Stars and Stripes." 
 The Goddess of Liberty stood up tall and straight in 
 the bow of the boat. 
 
 Uncle Sam sat on a camp stool with the little girls 
 crowding about him. 
 
 A whistle sounded. 
 
 A bell rang. 
 
 A great wheel began to go round and round. Then 
 puff, puff, puff away they went down the beautiful 
 river. The band played "Three Cheers for the Eed, 
 White and Blue," "The Star Spangled Banner," and 
 "Yankee Doodle." 
 
180 FEBRUARY TWENTY-SECOND. 
 
 By and by the steamer went slower and the bell 
 tolled. 
 
 The boat stopped at a landing and Uncle Sam led 
 the children up a path to a small stone building with 
 rods of iron for a door. 
 
 He lifted his hat and said softly. 
 
 "Little girls, this is the tomb of George Washing- 
 ton. 'TheTather of his Country.' " 
 
 They looked between the iron rods and saw two. 
 stone caskets with withered flowers upon them. 
 
 One little girl crept up close to Uncle Sam and 
 whispered, "It makes me feel like I was to a funeral, 
 Uncle Sam." , - 
 
 "Come," said Uncle Sam: "Now we'll go to George 
 Washington's old home." 
 
 They went along the path to a very, very old stone 
 house. 
 
 It had a large porch in front. 
 
 "It's too cold to stay here," said Uncle Sam. 
 "We'll step into the hall and have lunch." Inside was 
 a table upon which were piles of great sandwiches 
 almost an inch thick, and glasses of creamy milk. 
 The hungry-looking little girls smiled. 
 
 The well-fed little girls looked pleased. 
 
 "Ah," said Uncle Sam, "you're hungry, aren't you?" 
 
 He gave each child a sandwich and a glass of milk. 
 
r • » FEBRUARY TWENTY-SECOND. 181 
 
 Then he helped himself, and the sandwiches dis- 
 appeared rapidly. 
 
 After lunch they went through the curious old 
 rooms — George Washington's bed room, George 
 Washington's library, George Washington's parlor 
 and even his kitchen. 
 
 Behind the house was a fine old magnolia tree. 
 
 "They 'tell me," said Uncle Sam, "that Washington 
 himself planted this tree. I think I must give each 
 of you a leaf from it." * 
 
 "Oh, please do, please do, dear Uncle Sam !" begged 
 the children. 
 
 He had just given the leaves when there was a loud 
 whistle from the "Stars and Stripes." 
 
 "We must go back," said Uncle Sam. 
 
 And back they went. 
 
 The Goddess of Liberty smiled when she saw the 
 ; glossy leaves. 
 
 "What are you going to do with them?" she said. 
 
 "I'll keep mine as long as I live," said one. 
 
 "So will I," said another, "and I — and I — and 
 I " rang out the little voices. 
 
 Uncle Sam looked pleased, "That's Tight," he 
 said, "I love everything about Mt, Vernon and mean 
 to see that harm never comes to it." 
 
 Just as the steamer started, Daisy slipped her band 
 
182 FEBRUARY TWENTY-SECOND. 
 
 into Uncle Sam's and said: "Uncle Sam, I know 
 what the people used to say about George Washing-- 
 ton." 
 
 "Do you, my child?" said Uncle Sam. "What was 
 it?" 
 
 And as the "Stars and Stripes" moved slowly away 
 from beautiful Mount Vernon, Daisy said softly: 
 "George Washington, First in War, First in Peace, 
 and First in the Hearts of His Countrymen." 
 
MAY THIETIETH. 
 
 The American Eagle spread his great wings and 
 sailed away from the city of Washington. His eyes 
 were very bright and his feathers were very smooth 
 
 Around his neck was a tiny golden band. On the 
 band was the motto, "In God we trust !" 
 
 "Where now?" called the Goddess of Liberty as 
 he wheeled past. 
 
 "Going to find Dame Nature !" said the eagle. He 
 found her so busy she did not see him until he said, 
 "Good morning, Dame Nature." 
 
 She looked up and saw the golden band. Then 
 she knew who it was. "Oh, it's you, is it?" said Dame 
 Nature. "Good morning; what can I do for you?" 
 
 "You are to have all the flowers of field and wood 
 and garden Fn blossom on the thirtieth of May." 
 
 The dame shook her head. 
 I "I don't know about it; I've had bad luck witL 
 sunshine and showers this spring, and flowers can't 
 be hurried, you know." 
 
 "Can't help that," said the eagle looking straight 
 at the sun with his bright eye. "The G. A. E. want 
 flowers for Decoration Day !" 
 
 183 
 
184 MAY THIRTIETH. 
 
 "Why didn't you say so at first?" said Dame 
 Nature. "Decoration Day ! yes, yes, certainly ! Tell 
 Uncle Sam I'll work night and day and he shall have 
 every flower I can raise." 
 
 ,- The eagle grinned but he only said, "I'll tell him," 
 and flew back to the city of Washington. 
 
 Dame Nature hurried away thinking of the dead 
 soldiers. 
 
 "I'll keep my greenest grass, my brightest sun- 
 beams and dewdrops for their graves; of course they 
 shall have flowers, of course, of course." 
 
 She sent word to the -wild flowers in wood and 
 field. 
 
 The raindrops took the message. 
 
 Here it is: 
 
 "Open your petals of purest white, 
 Of yellow, of crimson or gray, 
 Gather your sweetest and rarest perfumes 
 For our Decoration Day." 
 
 Then she sent sunbeams to the country gardens, 
 dear old fashioned gardens, such as our grandmothers 
 had filled with sweet-peas, and pinks and four-o'- 
 clocks, and marigolds, and morning glories and sun- 
 flowers and ever so many more. There they all were 
 bravely trying to grow. Some were just above the 
 
MAY THIRTIETH. 185 
 
 ground and some were just pushing out of their seeds. 
 This was their message: 
 
 "Make ready, each leaf and each tiny bud, 
 Each blossom, blithesome and gay; 
 Make' ready your sweetest and rarest perfume, 
 For our Decoration Day." 
 
 Last of all Dame Nature went to a city florist. 
 
 "I want all your flowers for the thirtieth of May," 
 said she. 
 
 The flowers heard what she said. 
 
 "Some little girl's going to have a birthday party, 
 perhaps," said a tall white lily. 
 
 "A grand wedding in a big church," said the pink 
 carnation. 
 
 "Most likely a great lady gives a reception," said 
 the red rose. "We always go to them." 
 
 "Better than any wedding or party," said the 
 stately palm tree. "You are to decorate soldiers' 
 graves." 
 
 Decoration Day was bright and beautiful. 
 
 Dame Nature kept her word. She had worked so 
 hard that meadow, garden and wood were ready with 
 beautiful offerings. 
 
 The sun was just rising, when Dame Nature again 
 saw the eagle. He was circling above her head. 
 
136 MAY THIRTIETH. 
 
 "I'm glad you've come," she called. "Who's to gather 
 my flowers?" 
 
 "Uncle Sam says no one is to touch them but the 
 children. That's what I came' to tell you," said the 
 eagle. 
 
 When the boys and girls heard that, they threw 
 up their hats and shouted, "Hurrah for Uncle Sam !" 
 
 All the morning busy little hands were at work 
 gathering the flowers and tying them in bunches. 
 
 And when the G. A. R. came with bands of music, 
 and flags and brass buttons and shoulder-straps and 
 uniforms; it was hard to tell which were most 
 pleased, children or flowers. 
 
 Dame Nature, who smiled upon them all day, is 
 sure she saw the eagle sailing high and keeping 
 watch with those keen eyes of his. 
 
 He must have been watching, for that night when 
 Uncle Sam said, "Are you quite sure no grave was 
 overlooked?" he answered, "Sure as can be, every sol- 
 dier's grave in the land has a bunch of flowers upon it 
 to-night." 
 
 "I'm glad of that," said Uncle Sam. "I could not 
 rest if one was overlooked. Poor boys! poor boys! 
 I shall never forget them." 
 
 And the eagle saw him draw his hand across his 
 eyes as if something had gotten into them. 
 
MAY THIRTIETH. 
 
 187 
 
 He was a wise bird and said nothing, but spread 
 bis wings and flew away to the top of the Washing- 
 ton monument, where he perched for the night. 
 
 And the flowers, lying softly in the dewy grass, 
 kissed by the moonbeams, and sung to by the night- 
 winds, whispered softly to each other: — 
 
 "I am proud and happy to be chosen for this 
 place." 
 
 Then they fell asleep. 
 
Cover Them Over With Flowers. 
 
 "Miss M. H. Howlettok, 
 
 -U4- 
 
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 3. Ev-er their mem'ry hold dear, ^ Ev-er their prais - es sing. 
 
 
 Are not too choice for our sol-dier boy s^SIeeping to wake no more. 
 ^ Over the "Union our sol - dier hoys, Part-ed with life to save. 
 ? Ever the graves of our sol - dier boys.Deck with the blossoms of spring. 
 
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 laa-relsfade. 
 
 =£±% 
 
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 F^fP^ 
 
 3^ 
 
Trips About the Farm 
 
 = or, Life on the Farm " 
 
 AN ENTERTAINING AND INSTRUCTIVE READER 
 
 IT tells about how the soil is made and destroyed; how the 
 soil breathes and drinks, what makes it fertile and what keeps 
 it productive. It also explains how plants feed and grow 
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 forests, and the cultivation, characteristics and benefits of 
 trees receive a share of attention. Then we are told all about 
 the periods of insect life, how insects aid plant life, and about 
 harmful insects. The lives of birds, their usefulness, their beauty, 
 and their habits are set forth, as well as a great many curious and 
 valuable facts about the bacteria that the papers tell us 
 so much about. 
 
 This,, bright volume is by Prof. Hiram H. Shepard, of the Chicago 
 Normal School. It is bound in neat clolh, contains 3b6 pages, and contains 
 a large number of attractive illustrations. Price, 50 cents. 
 
 Household Stories 
 
 FOR THE SMALLEST READERS 
 
 SOME OF THE DELIGHTFUL STORIES: 
 
 The Littx.e Red Hen The Battle of the Beasts 
 The Three Goats The Stoet op Chicken Little 
 
 Little King Ween - <The First Christmas Tbee 
 
 , The TEEEii Pigs -The Coming of the Peinob 
 
 The Three Bears The Anxious Little Leaf 
 
 The Town Musicians The Chimera and Pagasus 
 The Wise Faiet Oepheus. The Charming Singer 
 
 The Golden Fleece Euhopa; Phaethon; Perseus, sip. 
 
 FULL OF ILLUSTRATIONS THAT PLEASE CHILDREN 
 This charming volume is by Anna Klingensmith, the author of Norse 
 Gods and Heroes. Cloth.. 176 pages. Price, 35 ten. s. 
 
 A 
 Y 
 
 Wretched Flea ?h3?eSF To 
 
 THE quaint custom in China of attempting to fool evil spirits 
 is shown by the peculiar name of the boy whose life is so 
 entertainingly written by, Mary Muller, the author of 
 "Little People of the Snow." Many of the numerous illustrations 
 are photographed from life. 
 
 How Flea Got HisName Flei Goes to School 
 
 Some op Flea's Games Flea.'s Tea Eabm 
 
 The Choosiwg of Flea's "Wife The Embassador's E/snee 
 Stohies Flea's Motheh Told Flea Takes the Degrees 
 
 ARE TITLES OF SOME OF THE CHAPTERS 
 Cloth . 160 pages. Numerous illustrations. Price, 35 cents. 
 
OTHEJR DESIRABLE BOOK:® 
 
 LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW 
 
 Being the Life of Koohna, an Eskimo Boy. 
 
 CONTEKTS 
 
 The Sun in the Horizon. The Northern Lights. 
 
 Mother Eskimo Makes Koohna a Where the Eskimo Girl Has Her 
 
 New Suit of Clothes. Pockets. 
 
 How Baby Eskimo Lives. The Eskimo House. 
 
 How to Manage the Dog Sledge. Games of Eskimo Boys and Girls. 
 Little Koohna at Work. Hunting the Musk Ox. 
 
 Spearing Fish. How Seals are Caught. 
 
 Voyage on the Ice. The White Man's Igloo- 
 
 Esklmo Stories and Polk Lore. 
 Thisis a charming little volume of 108 pages by Mart Mulleb. It is bound 
 in cloth, has Illuminated covers, embossed with silver, and is fully illus- 
 trated. Cloth 35c. Boards 25c. 
 
 THE LITTLE CLASSIC SERIES 
 
 OF SELECTIONS FROM THE WORLD'S BEST LITERATURE, 
 
 Points of Excellence. 3. Better paper and a good, clear 
 
 1. A full page portrait of the author type. 32 pages in each issue. 
 
 1n each volume. ' 4. Substantial and attractive covers. 
 
 2. Biographical and othermatternot 5. The economical price of 5 cents 
 
 found in other editions. per copy. 
 
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 Miles Standish, double number, 10 cents, The Miraculous Pitcher. 
 
 64 pages. The Three Golden Apples. 
 
 The Deserted Village, and Gray's Elegyr The Snow Image. 
 Rip Van Winkle, etc., etc. 
 
 Single Numbers, 6 cts. a a 4 Per Dozen. 60 cts. 
 
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 A LIBRARY OP TRAVEL FOR CHILDREN. 
 
 This is a series of reading books issued monthly at a low price. It is 
 designed to meet the constant demand of pupils and teachers for interest- 
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 THE TEACHERS' SUPPLEMENT contains hints for Friday Afternoons 
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 Prices: Each number from 96 to 112 pages. Profusely Illustrated. 
 15 cento each; $1.50 per doz.; $10.00 per hundred. 
 
 A. FLANAGAN CO. publishers, CHICAGO, ILL 
 
 iZJ 
 
SHOULD BE IN EVERY HOME. 
 
 CHILD'S CHRIST-TALES 
 
 By ANDREA HCFER PROUDFOOT. 
 
 "Child's Chbist-Tai.es"' is the most Christian of all juvenile story- 
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 The book is illustrated with thirty-eight of the choicest half-tone 
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 "A beautiful behavior gives a higher pleasure than statues or pictures; 
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 PRACTICAL ETIQUETTE 
 
 Is the title of a little book which has had A SALE OF OVER 20,000 
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 A MOTHER'S IDEALS 
 
 IN THE TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 
 
 By MRS. ANDREA HOFER PROUDFOOT. 
 
 This is not a dogmatic book. It is not a book of iron-clad precepts. 
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NEW TEXTS 
 
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 English Grammar 
 
 I. NEW LESSONS IN ENGLISH. For Inter- 
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 A thorough book, in simple language, based upon the inductive 
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 An admirable text-book. It contains the essentials of English 
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 Sample copies sent postpaid on receipt of price. Sample pages 
 free on application, liberal terms of introduction and exchange. 
 
 SMITH'S GRAMMAR, ETYMOLOGY AND 
 SYNTAX. By E. B. Smith, University of 
 Kansas. For Normal Schools, High Schools 
 and Academies." Cloth. Price, 50 cents. 
 
 WALLBANK'S OUTLINES AND EXERCISES 
 IN ENGLISH GRAMMAR. By NEU.IB 
 B. Wai^bank, formerly Instructor in Iowa 
 State Normal School. Paper. 129 pages. 
 Price, 25 cents. 
 
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