ICTURE iSOOK H \rrrr'T''STr r ^:-^:''ST^'ir- T r - ^^^: 'r T^ g-^-r'ij ■<">. t- \. k'.^.'. OL \ hi 1 0? Malcolm Whyte Collection of CHILDREN'S LITERATURE CORNELL UNIVERSITY UBRARY 'lUlliiiifiilifiS™^"''® picture-book .tales 3 1924 012 680 132 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924012680132 ,-^!u;»::^|-;:;,l.yi^VU li: OUR LITTLE SUNBEAM'S PICTURE-BOOK TALES AND SKETCHES WRITTEN BY Mrs. SEMPLE GARRETT ■WITH MORE THAN ONE HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS BY Sir JOHN GILBERT, R.A.J. E. MILLAIS, R.A., AND other artists LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE New York: 416 BROOME STREET PREFACE. |OME children are very fond, I know, of having their things like those of grown people. Now, as the books which are written for your elders often have prefaces, I have made up my mind that you shall not be behind them in that respect. In the first place, I have to say that many of the stories are not quite so nice as they might have been ; and this is the reason for their being so : in order that such of you young folk as are not very quick at reading may be able to make out all the words in this book, I have written the whole work in very short words. In fact, there is but one of more than two syllables in all the pages that follow, and only those words which have the simplest meaning have been used by me. The adoption of this plan has, of course, very much increased my labours and my difficulties. vi Preface. Nor is this all ; in order that children who are as yet unable to read may take some pleasure in the book, I have put into it a great many pictures, and that has obliged me to make my tales very short. From what I have said, you will see that you must learn fast if you would have longer and better stories to read from my pen. B. S. G. Appach Road, S.W. 1877- CONTENTS. Page THE HOUSE ON FIRE lo A NEW JOY 12 THE DANCING GIRL 14 THE GREY CAT 16 A LOVING SISTER 20 GEORGE'S FALL 24 TOMMY'S SWING 26 A WALK BY THE RIVER 28 BESSIE AND HER DOLLS 29 THE TIGER AND THE DOG 31 TEDDY'S NEW SHOES 34 A FIERCE DOG 36 TOM PRICE'S BATH 38 JANE AT HER AUNT'S • 42 THE LAST KITTEN 44 PAUL'S BIRTHDAY GIFT 45 BEARS 49 A NICE DOG 50 PLAYING AT KEEPING SCHOOL 52 ACTING THE LADY 55 PETER'S LESSON 59 ROBIN REDBREAST 62 PAPA'S GIFTS 63 CON'S FUN 66 ARTHUR'S RETURN 67 THE CUCKOO 71 GOING TO THE FAIR 72 CLARE DEANE'S SCHOOL-DAYS 74 IN THE FIELDS -jj CLIMBING A TREE 80 A TRIP BY SEA • 83 AN ASS AND HER FOAL 86 JACK'S TRICKS 89 A LIVING LIGHTHOUSE 93 IN THE MUD 99 A SPOILED CHILD 103 OLD PETER no A ZEBRA .. 114 viii Contents'. Page A SILLY PLAN 115 SUN-RISE AND SUN-SET 125 WHITE BEARS 13° ERIE'S SONG 131 OSWALD'S BARGAIN i34 IDLE MADGE I39 GEESE AND THEIR YOUNG ONES I44 A LOST PURSE I45 DERWENT'S RIDE 150 A DUCK'S QUARREL 152 THE HAPPY DAY 158 FLORENCE AND HER DOG 160 A DARK DAY 162 THE POOR PUP 166 A PLEASANT NIGHT 171 THE DOLL'S HOUSE 173 ON THE SANDS 176 THE BEST THING TO BUY 178 THE ORPHANS 182 LOTTIE'S LIE 189 BRAVE LITTLE NANCY .". 193 EFFIE'S PROMISE 196 LOST LORD KELLY 203 THE NEW FISHING-ROD 211 BROTHER AND SISTER 216 GUY'S THEFT 217 THE BURNT COAT 227 SUCH A GOOD BOY ... • 232 GRAND-PAPA 235 GEORGE AND HIS GUESTS 239 MALCOLM'S ERROR ... . 246 PEASANT LIFE 251 THE ENGINE-DRIVER'S DAUGHTER 255 CARELESS BRIAN ... 260 THE FIRST DAY AT SCHOOL 266 AT THE FARM 270 OLD ABEL BLAIR ... 274 SIR JAMES GOLDBURN'S PHYSIC 280 MAUD'S PARTY 290 LIONS 298 CAUGHT BY THE TIDE 300 WILLIE AND ANNIE ■:5o6 CHRISTMAS-TIME 313 OUR LITTLE SUNBEAM'S PICTURE-BOOK. THE HOUSE ON FIRE. About six o'clock one autumn evening: there was an alarm of fire in a large house upon a wide heath. The flames quickly spread, and all the servants ran out in a fright, just as dinner was going to be served to the mistress of the house. Little Bertie had been put to bed about ten minutes before the fire broke out, as he was not very well. The nurse forgot all about the child, so eager was she to save herself from being burnt, and so did all the rest of the people that lived in the house, except the lady whose servants had run away so quickly. She was the mother of Bertie — his father was away from home that even- ing — and she made haste to her little boy's room. Taking him in her arms, she ran through a wood with him to the house of a friend, where he was soon safe in bed again, and slept soundly till morning. lo THE HOUSE ON FIEE. II A NEW JOY. What a state of joy Lily and Jack are in ! They have been away from home staying with their aunt for two months, and now that they have come back, they find a new baby - brother in the nursery. He is very pretty, with his large blue eyes, so clear and keen, and his small mouth. " See Jack ! Oh, do look ! he is smiling at me," cries Lily in delight. " Yes, so he is," says Jack. " But how cold his hands are ! " he adds, as he takes hold of one of the little closed fists which Baby is swinging about. Lily stands on tip-toe, touches the baby's light brown hair, and then leans forward to kiss him. ''What is he looking at, I should like to know ? " asks Jack, as he sees the tiny infant stare at a distant table. "He is looking at the bright light of the lamp," says Nurse : " that often keeps him quiet." 12 s*.^^ i. A NEW jor. 13 THE DANCING GIRL. " Oh, do come and look at this strange girl ! " cried Fred to his sister as he stood at the window. Kate made haste to him, and saw a very young girl with a brown skin jumping up and down with great spirit. On one side of her was a lamb, and on the other a pair of wooden shoes, which she had taken off in order to leave her feet quite free. "What a strange dress she has on!" said Kate. " I think the child is a Swiss," said her Mamma, who had just then come into the room. " Swiss ! " cried Fred ; " and so is the milk in the tin that Nurse puts in her tea." " I wonder if that lamb is hers ? " was Kate's question as she turned to her Mamma. "No doubt she takes it about with her, and very pretty it looks ; but it would be better if the girl were at school." 14 THE DANCING GIEL. IS THE GREY CAT. There was once a young pigeon that lived with five others in a nice green dove- cote on the back wall .of a fine house. Each day came three little boys from this house, and they brought with them corn, with which they fed these birds, and sometimes bits of bread were added to this food. But life even to birds has its cares. The six pigeons had a watchful foe, from whom they had many narrow escapes. This foe was a large grey cat that had been left be- hind in an empty house hard by, and had become yery wild in its habits. As there was no food in the house where the cat stayed, there were very few mice in it, and Puss soon turned his thoughts to other game. Week after week the boys saw that there was a pigeon missing, till at last there was only a young one, that had barely reached its full size, and a much older i6 - -.t. .... -if sl-i. THE GREY CAT, 17 The Grey Cat. one, who had seen a good deal of the world. " It is strange," said the old bird one night, when he and his young friend were about to go to bed in their cote, "very strange that Tumble, Gobble, Flyer, and Fantail have never been seen since ; they went one after the other, into that nice garden at the end of the road. I watched them each time fly over the wall, but I am quite sure they never came out again. Take my word for it, youngster, there is some hidden danger there, so I pray you keep away from that garden." The young bird tossed his head and laughed with scorn. "It is all very well for you who are old and slow to be in a fright about the garden : I am young and fast." Having said this, he closed his eyes and went to sleep. I8 The Grey Cat. The very next day the young pigeon flew into the dreaded garden, and saw nothing but flowers and fruit. " That silly old bird ! " he said ; but just then the hungry grey cat seized him by the neck and carried him off". This time Puss did not eat his victim, as usual, in a corner of the garden behind the empty house, for some one just then put a key into the garden door. The cat in haste mounted the wall ; and as the three boys were passing just then on their way home, they found out what the fate of the young pigeon was about to be, but could not save it from making a meal for the grey cat. At last the house was once more let, arid then Puss himself met his death from the bite of a dog, that always got angry when a cat spat at him. 19 2 — 2 A LOVING SISTER. Nell has no Papa or Mamma, and no sister, so she has given her whole heart to her sole brother, Joe. She lives with her Aiint Clark, and Joe is at school a few miles off, and only sees his sister once a , week. That day is always a happy one for Nell, as she can then play with her much-loved brother. One morning Uncle Clark gave half=a- crown to each of the two children, and Joe went out at once to spend his money. He bought, among other things, a small whip ; but Nell kept her gift until she could see something very nice to buy. A week after, when Joe came to pay his usual visit to his sister, he sat down on a chair, and looked so sad, that Nell knelt by his side and took his hand. " What is the matter, Joe ? " she asked. "I was playing with my whip, and I 20 A LOVING SISTEE. 21 A Loving Sister. knocked down a vase. It cost half-a- crown, and I have to pay for it out of my pocket-money," replied he, with a sulky look. " Oh, Joe, I can pay that for you ! " she said, gladly, " as I have not yet spent my half-crown." Joe's face soon cleared, and he took the money back to school to pay for the vase ; but he soon forgot, sad to say, how kind his little sister had been. I say this be- cause, ere long, a time came when Nell had a large doll given to her ; but it had no clothes on, and she had only fourpence with which to buy any. This sum was not nearly enough, so she asked her brother to let her have two shillings out of four which she knew that he had ; but he only laughed, and said that a doll did not want clothes. 22 GEOEGE'S FALL. 23 GEORGES FALL. Poor George West is no longer able to run about and play like other boys of his age. He cannot even walk without crutches. Let me now tell you how this sad state of things was brought about. He had often been told by his mother not to lean out of the window, lest he might fall into the street and be killed. But one day a man with a Punch and Judy show began to perform close by, so George threw up the window and thrust out his head to see the fun. All went well till Punch for his crimes was about to be hanged ; then George, eager to see all that took place, leant too far out, and fell upon the flags, breaking his right leg in two places. It is to be hoped that his mishap will be a warning to all of youi and that you will keep from leaning out of windows. 24 tommy's swrsra. 25 TOMMY'S SWING. Tommy Blair is an only child, and as there is no one of his age at home that he can play with, he often goes into the next house to see Dick Sprott. One day Dick got a piece of old rope, of which he made a swing. Now, not only was the rope old and rotten, but the bough on which he tied it was weak. Tommy came back and told his Mamma about Dick's swing and the fun they had just had ; but she warned him not to go upon the swing again, as she knew that Dick was too young to make a safe one. When next Tommy went to see his young friend, Dick once more asked him to get upon the rope ; but Tommy did not forget what his mother had said. It was well that he did not, for, but a minute after, the rope broke, and poor Dick fell on a sharp stone, which made a deep cut on his face. Tommy has now a nice new swing of his own. 26 '■»**'?? >/P^ -C^^^' ►^ "sju x;,V!"t 1 '. Akv A WALK BY THE RIVEE. 27 A WALK BY THE RIVER. Rose has been a very good girl. to-day. She has hemmed quite one-half of the side of a towel, and has only lost her needle three times in the course of her task. But then, you see, there were so many strange things to look at in the street, that she could not help jumping up every now and then to peer through the window. She had also got through her lessons well, so her Mamma took her after dinner for a walk by the river, where they caught sight of the fish swimming in the clear water. Then they sat down on the soft grass, and Rose was glad to see her Mamma open a book full of pictures ; and the little girl's joy became great when two or three nice tales were read to her. What Rose did not quite know the meaning of she got her mother to explain, and so the time passed very quickly. 28 BESSIE AND HER DOLLS. Little Bessie with her dolls is a pretty- sight. She could scarcely be fonder of them than she is if they were babies, in- stead of pieces of painted wood, that can give her no love in return. She is by no means fond of sewing, and her Mamma has no little trouble at times to get her to take pains with her stitching; but she never grudges to spend any amount of 29 Bessie and her Dolls. time in making clothes for her dear dolls ; a task in which she displays much more taste and skill than could have been looked for in so youthful a sempstress. This has been a very busy day with her ; for as soon as her morning lessons were over — she is too young to be kept long in the school-room — she washed and dressed her waxen pets, and took them out in her little cart for an airing, choosing the shady side of the way, lest the sun should melt the faces of her poor dolls. When she returned, she gave them their dinner while she took her own, and then, as she had neither crib nor cradle for them, she put them in her little cart to sleep. Her next task was to do a bit of wash- ing, and soon she was to be seen hanging up to dry sundry small garments, after which she fondly kissed the sleeping dolls. 30 THE TIGER AND THE TERRIER. HE tiger is somewhat like a huge cat, and the skin has yellow hair with dark stripes on it, that reach from the head to the very tip of the tail. In its wild state it is very savage ; but if caught when it is young, it may sometimes be made tame. A tiger moves, too, very like a cat, and uses its big heavy paw in much the same way that Puss does his little one. Tigers 31 THE TIGER AND THE TERRIER. 32 The Tiger and the Terrier. have been known to eat men ; but in most cases, if it does not suffer from great hunger for many days, this wild beast avoids man, and it is only when driven to bay by the hunter, gun in hand, that the tiger turns upon his foe. In India, where there are a great many tigers, if one of these beasts begins to kill and eat men, it is followed for many miles till it is shot. A little dog when a pup was once put int6 a cage with a very young tiger, and they became good friends in time. 33 TEDDY'S NEW SHOES, You boys and girls, whose parents have as much money as will buy all that you need, set no great store by a pair of new shoes. You would rather have a toy or a nice book, or even a cake. But then, little folk, you do not know what it is to have to go out when it is cold and wet, and when there are holes in your boots. Now, Teddy Ross, on the other hand, had been wearing a very old and broken pair of shoes for a long time past. At length a new pair was bought for him, and one cannot wonder that he was so much pleased with them that he thought of them the next day as soon as he awoke, and jumped out of bed to look at them with- out waiting even to put on his clothes. His mother, who had saved up her money to buy the shoes, watched the boy as he put them on. 34 vV^^' TEDDY'S NEW SHOES. 35 3—2 A FIERCE DOG. Bull- Dogs are strong, but very ugly. Their heads look too big for their bodies, and their mouths are wide, that one may well dread a bite from them. Once they get their teeth set into a thing, they will not let go their grip, though you beat them as hard as you like with a thick stick. When in a rage, a bull-dog has been known to seize upon the calf of his own master's leg, just as soon as on that of a stranger. One of these dogs, called Grog, was seen to go into a field on a summer's day, and make his way to where a donkey was quietly gating grass. With a low growl the bull-dog rushed at the donkey to seize him by the nose ; but the poor ass turned quickly round, shot out his hind legs, and kicked Grog into the air, leaving him with a broken rib. 3<5 A PIEECE DOG. 37 TOM PRICE'S BATH. \, HEN Tom Price was just six years old, to the very day, he was awoke soon after the dawn by a kiss from his mother, who brought him a present of a nice horse and cart, made of wood. Tom was in great glee at getting such a gift, and was in haste to draw it about on the floor. " No, dear," said his Mamma, when she saw him jump out of bed for this purpose, "you must let Nurse give you your bath and get you dressed first." Tom did not object to have his clothes put on, but he felt a strong dislike to the bath, as the day was so cold that thick ice was to be seen without. So, on hearing what his Mamma said, he began to shiver, and to beg that his face and hands only 38 TOM PRICE'S BATH. 39 Tom Price's Batk. should be washed. His Mamma granted this boon, as it was his birthday ; but she took care to tell him that, as the chill would have been taken off the water of his bath, he would not have felt it very cold. After breakfast, Tom heard, from the groom who had just brought round his father's horse, that several boys were skat- ing and sliding on a frozen pond a short way off, so he ran to his Mamma, and begged her to allow him to go and look at the boys on the ice. " If you promise me not to go upon the ice," said Mrs. Price, "I will give you leave ; but I don't wish you to run any danger of the ice breaking under you." Tom made the promise, and away he ran to the pond ; but the ice looked so nice that he thought he might venture to 40 .' , Tom Price's Bath. walk across it. When he was in the middle of it he began to caper about, but suddenly there was a crash, and down he went into the cold water. He was almost drowned ere a man got him out ; and when he went home, the Nurse laughed, and said his bath had been colder that day than on any other during the winter. And so, indeed, what followed went to prove, for Tom, though he had his wet clothes taken off the moment he got home, caught a very bad cold, and was kept in bed for some days. 41 JANE AT HER AUNTS. " Jane, I shall have to take you from school, that you may go and stay with your aunt," said Mrs. Pratt one day. " Then, mother, I shall miss my chance of that prize," was the reply of the little girl as she looked up from her book. It was hard, of course, to give up all hope of getting the prize which she had worked so well to win ; but like a good girl did as her mother wished her, and while she was with her sick aunt, made herself quite as busy with the tasks of the house as with those of the school. The ducks, the hens, the chickens, and the dog found a good friend in her. It was a great pleasure to her when the little dumb things came running to her each morning, as she stood throwing out handsful of corn from her apron. 42 JANE AT HER ATJNT'S 43 THE LAST KITTEN. Poor Puss has only one kitten left out of five that she had, so she is in great fear when any one comes near it. She often takes it in her mouth, ad runs away to hide it. 44 PAULS BIRTHDAY GIFT. Paul Crake, when he reached his seventh birthday, had a poodle named Snap given to him. When Papa took Paul into the park for a walk by the side of the lake, Snap always went with them, and barked with joy at the sight of the grass. But one morning Snap came upon a lot of rare ducks and other water-fowl, which swam on the lake with their pretty feathers above the water. With a sudden yelp he dashed at them. Some of the ducks had their tiny ducklings with them, and were in great fear. But Snap still ran on and barked, so the big ducks flew into the air, in their haste to get away. The park-keeper threw his stick at poor Snap, and it hit him so hard on the hind leg that he howled with pain. After this, Paul's Papa did not like to take Snap into the park again, so he was left at home 45 46 THE EESCUED CHILD. 4; Paul's Birthday Gift. for a long time. At length they all left London, and went to live In the country, and then Paul's younger brother Tom began to make friends with Snap. The two boys and the dog often went out into the fields together ; and one day, just before it became dark, Paul and Tom were coming home, when Tom saw a ball in a pond, and tried to get It. The child fell into the water, and Paul, In his fright, ran to tell his Papa. But Snap, when he saw Tom up to his neck In water, jumped in and pulled him to land. When this act became known, Snap was treated with more kindness than ever by his master. A year after the dog was taken back to London, and again went through the park ; but he no longer showed any desire to bark at the ducks, as he did not forget, I suppose, the keeper's stick. 48 BEARS. Bears are very strong. I know of a boy who once ran round the corner of a street right into the arms of a bHnd dancing bear. Two or three of the people stand- ing round had been teasing the bear, so it squeezed the boy till he could not breathe, before the keeper came to the rescue. 49 A NICE DOG. John and his little brother Willie had a dog with long rough hair, and they called their dumb friend Skye. It was given this name, not because its coat was blue, like the sky above, but for the reason that such dogs came from the Island of Skye — a place which is spelt, you see, with an e at the end of it. John and Willie were Scotch boys, and the elder wore a kilt, which hardly reached to his bare knees. This was the kind of dress which was worn a great while ago by the people in the land of his birth. The boys were very fond of Skye ; and they might well be so, for he was always ready to join in their sports, and would sit up to beg whenever he was told, and then catch a bit of bread in his mouth, if such a thing were thrown to him. At last poor Skye was run over and killed. 50 A NICE DOG. SI 4—2 PLAYING AT KEEPING SCHOOL, Anna and Rosy are not very fond of lessons, and their teacher has almost daily to find fault with them oh account of their neglect of their studies. They Would like to play all day long, and it does not put them in the least to shame to see them- selves at the foot of their class. Their Mamma calls them idle girls ; but that by no means disturbs them, and just as little heed do they pay to her words when she tells them that a time will come when they will regret the wasted years of youth. Quite unlike them are their cousins, Jane and Lucy, for they take a pleasure in trying to keep ahead of their school-fellows, and their eager looks, as they compete in spelling and sums, give delight to their teachers. One Christmas Anna and Rosy were 52 PLATINO AT KEEPING SCHOOL. 53 Playing at keeping School. visited by these cousins, and as the weather chanced to be wet, they had to amuse themselves indoors as well as they could. For a time they played with their dolls ; but at length growing tired of that, Jane said, " Oh, come and let us play at keeping school, and you three shall be my pupils." "Yes, that will be good fun," said Lucy; "but we must take it in turns to be teacher." Anna and Rosy entered with as much spirit into this game as did their cousins, and tried their best to spell the words, and to answer the questions put to them, when Jane or Lucy acted the part of teacher. The good result of this was, that they learned more in fun during the holidays than they had done when making a pre- tence to learn lessons at school. 54 ACTING THE LADY. Maud and Kate, with their cousin Ruth, went into the garden one fine ■ day to play. " Let us play at being big ladies," said Maud, " and ask each other to tea." " Yes, and I will be Lady Ann Hall," cried Kate, who spoke of some one that dwelt close bv the town where these little girls lived. Now, Maud was sorry when she heard this, for she would have liked very much to act the part of this lady herself But her face soon cleared, and she made haste to say, " Then I will be Mrs. Luke ; " that was the rector's wife, whom they often saw in her chaise, drawn by two pretty white ponies, without one speck of black on their smooth coats. As for Ruth, she had just come from school, where she had been reading about the Kings and Queens who lived a long while ago, so she said, " I shan't be 55 ACTING THE LADY. 56 Acting the Lady. anybody alive : I shall be Lady Jane Grey." Then Maud and Kate, who were sisters, ran into the room where their Mamma was sitting, and asked for some bread and jam, for the game they were going to play. But Ruth was too shy to beg for any, so she held back. Ere long Kate came back with her sister, and called out, "Here, Ruth, Mamma has sent this for you." And then she put two, slices of bread, spread with jam, into her cousin's hand. After that, they took some leaves which had fallen from a plane tree, and used them as plates. Into some of these they put small bits of the bread they had, and called them cakes, and into others they put like pieces, and called them tarts. When all was ready, Maud, holding her head very high, and trying in that way to make herself look, as she thought, 57 Acting the Lady. like Lady Ann, called upon Ruth and Kate, in order to ask them to take tea at her house. But when she saw them eat her tarts and cakes, in the shape of bread and jam, she felt vexed, and thought them too greedy. When this little girl's Mamma saw them a few minutes after, she was sorry to see sour looks, instead of merry faces. " Mamma, is this fair ? " asked Maud, looking very cross. " I ask Ruth and Kate to tea, and they eat up all my things." Her Mamma smiled, and said, "Ah, Maud ! you told me that you were going to act the part of quite a real lady. But do you think that Lady Ann Hall would grudge her guests what they might eat at her table, and then complain of them to her friends?" 58 PETER'S LESSON. In a large house, near the village green, lived Peter Squire, the only son of a very rich man. Peter wore fine velvet clothes, and had a nice pony, which he rode with much grace and ease. When he trotted past the boys that were playing on the village green, and saw their poor dress, he felt scorn for them in his heart, and thought it quite a matter of course that they should humbly stand aside, to let his pony and himself go by. In time, he grew so careless, that he would ride his pony straight at some of these village boys, and leave them to get out of the way in the best manner that they could. One day, when Peter was riding home very fast, he saw two boys standing in his way, with their backs to him, but he never pulled his rein, trusting that they would jump aside at the last moment ; and if they 59 PET^E'S LESSON. 60 Peter's Lesson. did not, it was little matter, he thought — their clothes could hardly be made more dirty than they were by a fall. The taller boy turned in time to see the potiy and save himself; but the other was thrown down with great force, and lay bleeding on the ground, as Peter, without one word of regret, rode on. A week after this heartless act, while Peter was standing watching a game that some of the village boys were playing, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turnings saw a boy about his own size. " You rode over my brother last Mon- day ! I thought I should catch you," said the stranger, and forthwith he seized Peter, and beat him soundly. After that day, the boy who wore velvet clothes did not venture to ride over those who were not so well dressed as himself 6i ROBIN REDBREAST. About Christmas little boys and girls often hear of Robin Redbreast. This small bird may be often seen by them, too, if the snow should happen to be upon the ground. At such a time, every little bird has a great deal of trouble in finding his food, and the Robin among the rest. If, then, you throw out on to the snow a few crumbs from the window, you will be pretty sure, sooner or later, to have a visit from Robin. 62 PAPA'S GIFTS. ■ 'fen' Tift "^ ■*'*• i . 1 • ^ J I ' h. .-i\ •a£Ei> |^^-=l^>.*'^f'^ 4.| Charlie's Papa has been in London, and has brought home nice gifts for each of his children, Lucy, the elder girl, has got a small work - box, and her Mamma hopes that Lucy will now be 63 Papa's . Gifts. able to keep her thimble where it can be found, and that such a present will make her more fond of sewing than as yet she has been. Little Ada, her sister, has been given a large doll, which can be made to shut its blue eyes, and so go to sleep, by a pull at a wire. For Charlie himself, the eldest child, Papa has bought a book, full of stories and pictures. Now that tea is over, the boy brings the new book to his Papa, and begs him to read some of the tales ; for Charlie, though seven years old, has not quite learnt to read even the most simple words. So Ada is taken up on to Papa's knee ; Lucy seats herself on a stool at her father's feet ; and even Mamma waits to hear the new book read. There are a good many questions and comments, and bed-time comes all too soon for the children. 64 con's ruN. 65 CON'S FUN. Ruth and Ellen were in very high spirits one Christmas Eve ; for their brother Con, who had been a whole year at school in Paris, was to be home within the next hour. And sure enough he came, ere he had been waited for m.any minutes at the window. His sisters felt some surprise to see him grown so tall, and they thought he looked odd in his clothes, of French cut. After dinner, they all three went into a room to amuse themselves. *' Now, what shall we do for some fun ? " said Ruth, turning to her brother. « " Would you like to see me walk about, head down and heels up ? " asked Con ; and before a reply could be given, he threw himself on to his hands, and began to walk round the table, with his feet in the air ; but neither the girls nor the cat liked that kind, of fun. 66 ARTHUR'S RETURN. The sun was sending its bright rays among the 'trees that grow in Bushey Park, as a little boy and his sister took their way through the grass. Jane pulled after her, by the arm, a good-sized doll, to which she talked once or twice about its not walking fast enough, and John amused 6y 5—2 Arthur s Return. himself by making cuts with a cane at the trunks of the trees which they passed. " He '11 get home by two o'clock : I asked Pa last night," said John at last. " Oh, how glad we shall be ! " said Jane; with a face full of joy. " I have made something for him, and I think he will like it. Isn't it nice to have a brother that has been away for six months ? " " I would rather have him at home than away," was John's answer; "Arthur and I used to have some rare fun together." Just then some one darted from the other side of one of the trees, and getting behind the boy who had spoken, put his hands over John's eyes. "It's Arthur!" cried John; and then he threw his arms round his brother, and gave him three or four good hugs, while Jane, after waiting a minute, kissed the 68 Arthurs Return. struggling Arthur, who was not, after all, pleased at the way either John or she showed their joy at his return from school. " I say, don't pull me about, please," said Arthur, in a half-sulky tone. So John, when he heard this, let go his hold ; but Jane took his hand, and they all walked on. "There are four new pups in the stable," said John. " Would you not like to see them, Arthur?" " Yes, let us go and look at them," was Arthur's reply ; and away they went to- wards home. When they got near the house, Jane ran in, but soon came out again, with one of her hands behind her. " Guess what I have for you," she said to Arthur, as he was coming back from the stable with John. 69 Arthur's Return. " I can't ; what is it ? " he repHed. " A ,book-mark, with Welcome back on it ; and I sewed it my own self," said Jane, with a happy smile. Arthur looked at the gift which she held out to him, but he did not seem to think much of it, and in taking it from her, did so without a word of thanks. Indeed, when he was asked by his Papa to show the present that little Jane had made, Arthur could not find it. The truth was, he had taken so little care of it, that it had dropped from his hand on his way back from the stable. But this was not all, for Arthur was so unkind, and showed so little wish to please or to be pleased, that when the time came for his return to school, he had lost much of the love of John and Jane, and they saw him go away with less regret than they had done at Christmas. 70 No BIRD has a name more like the sounds it utters than ''.■^k^2''^) the cuckoo. Very few per- sons, however young, can have walked much through the fields in spring without having heard, a little distance off, the two notes of this bird, which sound just like the word "cuc-koo," said slowly. His voice is always sweet to the ear, for it tells of the spring flowers. 71 GOING TO THE FAIR. It was the day of the Fair in the town of Deane. On each side of the High 72 Going to the Fair. Street was a long row of stalls, on which were sold apples, nuts, and many kinds of sweets, besides a vast number of nice toys. There was ^ show, too, which stood near the market-cross, and a man was at the door begging people to walk up and look at the giant and the dwarf that were within. When Amy Blake awoke that morning, the first thing she thought of was this Fair, for her mother had promised to take the girl at the same time that the geese were driven to market. So when all was ready, away went Mrs. Blake with her youngest child in her arms, and with Amy at her side, who drove the geese along by means of a switch. Very happy was Amy all the way ; and when the geese were sold, she became quite full of joy, for then her mother was free to take her through the main street, and point out the fine things that were there. 73 CLARE DEANE'S SCHOOL- DAYS. When Clare, the youngest girl in the large school on the Green, had lived in that big old house of red bripk for more than a year, she began to wonder if she should ever see her Papa any more, for he had never been once to see her, nor had he sent her any nice presents, such as Laura , Brown had twice got from her Papa, though he lived far away in Spain. Another year passed, yet only one small note during that time was sent to Clare from her Papa, saying that he would have to stop in China for more than two years longer. But with this note there came a fine gold locket, which she was told to wear, as the hair of her Mamma, who died when her little daughter was but a baby, was inside. Clare wore the locket be- neath her dress, for the lady of the school CLAEE DEANE S SCHOOL-DATS. 75 Clare Dean's School-Days. said that little girls did not wear such things, at least, while they were learning their lessons. Then time went on, and again winter came round. At last Clare began to forget all about her Papa ; but one day a servant came to say that Miss Deane was wanted in the parlour, and that she had better put her locket outside her dress. So Clare went and gave a timid tap at the door of that room, and was told by a man's voice that she might come in. "Why, you must be Clare Deane, I think ? " said the stranger, after he had called her to his side. " I know this locket ; it came all the way from China, where they grow the tea, and it was a gift from me." Then Clare was full of joy, for she knew that her Papa had come back at last. 76 IN THE FIELDS. As THE warm sun was shining after a whole week's rain, Herbert thought that it would be much more to his taste if he spent the afternoon in the fields instead of in school. He would have liked to get one of the boys to go with him ; but he had some fear, that if he told any one of what he was going to do, the secret might get known, either to his own parents, or to some of the masters at the school. There was Dick Stokes, who had broken a window in the Doctor's study, and he had told another boy about it, who went the next day and told the Doctor's son. No, he would go by himself, thought Herbert, and so keep his secret safe. Having thus made up his mind to play truant, he went a long way round, to avoid being seen, and then struck off down a lane to the fields. When he got there, he threw himself on what seemed a nice dry place ; but he soon grew tired of looking 77 IN THE FIELDS. 78 In the Fields. 3t the scene around, and began to feel sleepy, so he got up and went home. As he walked back, the wind, he thought, had got very cold, for he felt a chill run through him more than once. His sister Milly was at the door as he went up the garden walk, and to her he said, "I feel my back quite stiff: I can't think what 's the matter with it." " Come and get your tea ; it is just ready," she said. Herbert went in and took his seat near the fire, which had been just lit, for the evenings were still cold. But he ate little at tea, and the next morning he was so ill that the doctor was sent for, and then he had to tell that he had been lying in a field the day before. When the doctor heard this, he said that Herbert had, no doubt, caught a very bad cold, and would be ill for some time. 79 CLIMBING A TREE. It was a nice warm day when Hugh Short called at the house of Joe Rich and his brother, in order to ask them to go for a walk. The two boys were willing enough to go with Hugh, so off they all went. When they got among the trees, they played for some time at hide and seek ; but at length Sam Rich stopped at the foot of a tree, and called out that he could see a bird's nest on one of the boughs. " Where is it ? " asked Hugh. " I don't see it. " On the second big branch, there," said Sam, pointing with his finger to the place where something like a ball of dark straw lay. " Who will go and get it ?" asked Joe, looking at his brother. "I will," said Hugh, and he at once 80 CLIMBING A TKBE. 8l Climbing a Tree. began to mount the trunk of a tall tree, though he could not as yet see the nest. He had hard work to get to the first bough, but still harder to get to the second ; and when he did get there, he found that the nest was on the third bough, so he called out that he did not like to go any higher. Joe and his brother, when they heard this, thought it would be a good joke to run away, and leave their friend to go home by himself But they begged him to get on the third bough, and Hugh, after a hard struggle, got there. As he was moving along to the nest, his boot slipped through a kind of loop-hole in the branch, and stuck there quite fast. Hugh called out in vain to Joe and Sam, for they were gone, and he had to spend the night there in a sad state. ^2 A TRIP BY SEA. Amy and Ellen were in a great state of joy when they heard their Mamma say that she would take them to the Isle of Man. The day came on which they were to go, and then Mrs. Pole told her chil- dren that they need not feel afraid if they saw large waves, and felt the steam-ship toss about. Amy vowed, as she threw back her head and shook her curls, by way of seeming very bold, that she could face both the wind and the waves. Ellen, too, said that she was not a bit afraid of sailing on the water in a ship, if Mamma were with her. " Well, I am glad to hear that both of you feel so brave, for the wind is rather strong to-day, I fear," said Mrs. Pole. When they had all been about ten minutes at sea, a small wave struck the ship, and sent some water splashing on 83 6—2 A TEIP BY SEA. 84 A Trip by Sea. the deck, upon which the girls began to scream. But their Mamma told them there was no danger. After a time Amy, and at last Ellen, began to smile and look about them again. Then came another wave bigger than the other, and the ship at the same time gave a lurch, which put both girls into such a fright, that they began to cling to their Mamma and cry aloud. Upon once more getting them quiet, Mrs. Pole, with a laugh, said, " You were very brave about being on the sea when you were on land this morning ; but I must say that you quite fail to keep up your courage, now that you are on the water." The wind went down, and the rain fell ere long, so the sea became smooth, and no more spray was thrown on the deck. Then the two girls began to think that they had shown a good deal of silly fear. 8s AN ASS AND HER FOAL. < No LITTLE boy was ever more happy at getting a birthday present than Edward Price. His Papa called to him just before lunch-time, and asked him to take a short walk through the garden and down to the river. When Mr. Price got near to the bank, he pointed to an ass and her young one, and said, " There is a donkey and her foal for you, my dear. I could have done without the foal ; but the man who had them for sale this morning, would not let me have the one without the other." " Oh, I like the little donkey better than the other! may I ride on it. Papa?" asked Edward, who had never sat in any saddle but his rocking-horse's. It was no wonder, then, that his eyes danced with joy at the thought of having a real live thing to ride upon, and that he should 86' AN ASS AND Hb'k POAL. B7 An Ass and her Foal. clap his hands and laugh aloud as he looked at his Papa's gift. " No, Edward," was the reply, "it is too young ; but you shall have a saddle and bridle put on the other one, and you must let the foal run by her side. They ought not to be parted." For some days Edward took great delight in riding the ass and seeing the foal follow her. But one morning he begged the groom to shut up the foal in the stable. Edward ■ then got upon the ass ; but it would not move on, in spite of the whip, and at last threw Edward off and cut his elbow. « Then the boy called to mind what his father had said, and let out the foal ; upon which the poor ass became quite content. 88 JACKS TRICKS. Jack was a boy very fond of playing off tricks upon his sisters. He had no brother to romp with him; and as the girls I have just spoken of 89 ^•fe"*-^ Jacks Tricks. were of gentle, timid natures, he found it good fun to startle them as often as he could. At one time he would make a cracker explode close to his eldest sister, and so cause her to ink her copy- book ; at another he would pull back the girls' chairs as they were going to sit down. At length the day came when the prizes were to be given at his school. Jack put on his best clothes, and thought that he looked very smart in them — he was rathei vain, you see. On his way to school he spied his three sisters, so getting behind a tree, he waited till they came up, and then, with a gruff cry, sprang out on them. By chance his foot caught in one of the roots of the tree, so ere he could enjoy the cry of fright that broke from his youngest sister Jane, he fell flat on his face in a shallow pool of water, left by the heavy 90 yack's Tricks. rain of the day before. Very sulky was the face of Jack as he looked at his new trousers of light grey, and saw that they were not only wetted, but stained with grass and mud at both knees. All his sisters looked at him with much concern when he had risen from the ground, for they thought that he had hurt himself; but the damage went no further than that which had been done to his new clothes. " I wish I had never met you girls here," he said, with a fretful frown. "It was not meeting us that made you fall," said his eldest sister, " it was your trying to give us a fright. Jack." "Now you can't go to school, you are in such a mess," said the youngest girl, Lily. "And perhaps you would have got a prize," put in Alice. 91 yack's Tricks. " I must go back and get other clothes," said Jack ; and off he went as fast as he could, for it was the custom at his school to give away fruit and cake to the boys just before the prizes were handed out ; and Jack knew that even then he was a little late. When he got home, he rushed up to his bed-room, but was stopped at the door by a servant, who said, in a cross tone, that she could not let him in until she had made the bed. So Jack had to wait for full ten minutes before he could change his clothes, and when he got to school, he was too late for the fruit and cake. Some of the prizes had just been given away ; but Jack soon learnt that his own name had not as yet been called out by any of the masters. He began to fear that there was no prize for him ; but he got one at last. Q2 A LIVING LIGHTHOUSE. Polly Hope had lost her mother a long while before the stormy night about which I am going to tell you. The girl lived by the sea-side with her father, a poor fisher- man, who was sometimes days and nights away, trying to catch fish for the support of his child and himself At such times Polly was all alone in the cottage, save when her aunt, who lived a mile off, came to see her and to teach her how to make her father's blue shirts, or when the little girl herself was asked to tea by her aunt. Polly kept the cottage very clean and tidy, because her father liked to see his home look nice ; and she often put down her book of tales, that she might keep every- thing well dusted, and the tins over the fireplace as bright as new silver. She loved her father very much, so it was no wonder that she should thus strive to please him. 93 A Living Lighthouse. - At break of day, on New Years Eve, the wind began to blow in fearful gusts ; and the snow which had fallen during the night, though frozen hard by the cold when morning came, was whirled high from the ground in some places. Tom Hope, the father of Polly, had come back in his boat many hours before the wind rose, so his daughter felt happy in the thought that the huge waves, which she could hear beating on the rocks near the cottage, could do no harm to her only parent. All that day the fisherman worked at mending his nets, and at a pair of canvas trousers he was making ; but when night was coming on, he put his red woollen cap on his head, and going outside, gave a long look towards the sea, where he could just catch sight of a large ship strug- gling amid the distant waves. A few 94 A LIVINa LIGHTHOUSE. 95 A Living Lighthouse. hours after, when Polly was lighting her candle to go to bed, her father again went out on the cliff where his cottage stood, but soon came back, and in great haste lit a lantern. " Polly, my child," he called out, " there's a big ship getting close on to the rocks ; I 've seen her lights, and she is sure to be knocked to chips if once she touches rocks like them. Put something over your head and shoulders, and be quick about it, my girl. I want you to go out and hold this lantern as a warning, while I run Xo the village: for help." " But it is so dark and cold outside," pleaded Polly, as she looked at her snug little bed. " Aye, aye, too dark for them on board to see the rocks ; but if you don't do as I say, many a poor fellow in that ship will lose his life to-night," was the reply of her father. 96 A Living Lighthouse. When Polly heard this, she at once got ready to face the bitter cold. " We had better leave by the side door, little lass, as it has a bit of shelter from this wind," he said, as he took her hand. " I '11 show you where to stand on the cliff; and you must promise me to stay there, cold though it is, till I get back." Polly made the promise, and then she asked if she was to hold up the lantern all the time he was away. " That you must," said her father, " for I want the men on board the ship to see the light of your lantern, and know by it that they are too near the land to be safe." They went to the door and stood for a minute on the step, white with" snow. " The lights there belong to the ship," he went on, "and they seem nearer to the rocks than they were ten minutes since." Polly found it very cold, dark, and stormy 97 ' '' A Living Lighthouse. on the cliff, though her father had so placed her that she got a Httle shelter from the fierce wind. Once or twice she felt the cold in her hands and feet so great, that she thought of running home at once to the cottage fire. But she knew very well that if she did, her father would be far from pleased, even though she might come back with the lantern in a few minutes. It was a hard struggle, and the tears begcin to run down her cheeks, so much did the cold pain her ; but she did not forget what her father had said, and she held out bravely till he came back with the good news that the men in the ship had, no doubt, seen the lantern, for the ship had turned away, and was now nearly safe. "You have been as good as a light- house, Polly," he said, as he kissed her cold cheek and led her home. 98 IN THE MUD. When Mr. Hume told his children, Frank and Kate, that they might go with him in the gig to town, they were full of glee at the thought of so nice a ride. Aunt Grace had them dressed in their best clothes full half an hour before the time at which they had to start. " Now, children," she said, " sit down and be quiet, and don t, I beg of you, mess your clothes, for your Papa will not take you with him, if you are not as neat as a new-made pin — that you well know." As Aunt Grace thus spoke, she looked hard at Frank. It is not easy, one must admit, for young folk to sit still when they have nothing to do. But in this case, at least, Kate found some work for herself " Oh, Frank, do hold this skein of yarn on your hands for me while I wind it. I 99 7 — 2 In the Mud. want so much to get on with the socks I am making for Papa," said Kate. "You are always asking me to do things," repHed Frank, in a very cross tone, as he made a dash with his hand at a fly on the window-pane. " Can't you get some one else to help you ? " Just then Tim, the herd-boy, came into the farm kitchen where Frank and his sister were, and put a can of milk on the table. As Tim turned to the door, the sound of a horn was heard, and he ran off with great speed to see the mail-coach that was about to pass by. Frank ran after him-, for he was even more eager to see the coach than the other. Tim took a short cut, instead of going round by the gate, and then leaping a ditch, was soon in the high road. " Help me over, Tim," cried Frank. 100 IN THE MUD. ICI In the Mud. Tim looked back, gave a droll laugh, and said, " You are always asking me to do things. Can't you get some one else to help you ? " These were the very words that Frank had spoken to his sister a minute before. When Frank heard them, he tried to leap across himself; but he was too little to be able to do so, and his foot came down on some soft mud. He almost lost his shoe in it, and the coach went by, when he was in too much distress to look at it. His sister met him as he was coming back, and told him that the gig was waiting. Then she caught sight of his dirty shoe and stocking ; so pointing to them, she said, " Oh, what a mess you are in, Frank ! " When seen by his Papa, the little boy was told that he was not in a fit state to be taken into the gig, and it was driven away without him. IC2 A SPOILED CHILD. Pat's Papa and Mamma thought him a very nice Httle boy ; but I do not think that any one else did. At least, his Nurse did not, for she was often heard to say that she would rather have charge of ten good children, than of this one rude boy. No doubt, had it not been for the high wages and nice presents which she got from Mrs. Smith, Pat's Mamma, the woman would not have stayed long in her place. It was his way, when the Nurse did not give him all he asked for, to scream and kick, till she was glad, for the sake of peace, to grant his wish. Early in the month of March, he was told that his Cousin Emma was coming next morning to spend a week or two with him. "It will be very pleasant for you to have a playmate, my dear ; but you must be a 103 A Spoiled Child. good boy, and very kind to Emma/' said Mrs. Smith. " I shan't let her have my new horse and cart, nor my whip, nor my hoop, nor my box of paints," said Pat. His Mamma smiled fondly, and said, " Oh, yes, my pet ! you will lend her some of your toys, I am sure ? " "No, I shan't," he replied ; and then, after a moment's thought, he said, " She may have my broken Jack-in-the-box, if she likes." A week after, when Mrs. Smith went into a room where Pat and his cousin were, she found the boy pushing back Emma from a box of wooden soldiers that he had got from his Papa some months before. " What is the matter, Pat ? " asked Mrs. Smith. Pat did not answer, but began to rub his eyes in a fretful way. 104 A SPOILED CHILD. 10? A Spoiled Child. " I only wanted to see his soldiers, and he shoved me away," said little Emma. '* Never mind him ; I will buy you a box of new soldiers myself when next I go to town," said Mrs. Smith. On hearing this, Pat began to cry, and said, " I won't have that ; I want the new box, and she can take my old one." Just then Mrs, Smith saw that her son had only one shoe on, so she rang the bell for the Nurse ; the fear that Pat might catch cold putting all thoughts of the box of toys out of her head for the moment. Not many days after, as Nurse was dressing the children to go out, Pat went to a closet where his toys were kept, and took out his hoop. "Now, Master Patrick," said the Nurse, " you must not take your hoop out to-day. 1 06 THE SOILED PKOCK. loy A Spoiled Child. It has been raining all night, and the roads are full of mud. You would be sure to mess your clothes if you took your hoop." " I don't care," said Pat, " I want it ; " and then, as usual, he began to cry. As the Nurse chanced to have a head- ache that morning, she put her hands over her ears, and said, " Well, well, you may take it ; but for pity's sake don't make a noise, for my poor head is like to split." When they got out on to the road, Pat at once began to bowl his hoop along, leaving the Nurse and Emma behind. Then he ran back to them, still driving his hoop before him through pool and puddle, till at last it went against Emma's blue merino frock, which had been put on for the first time that very morning. As soon as they got home again, Mrs. io8 A Spoiled Child. Smith saw that her Httle niece's frock was daubed with mud in many places ; and the Nurse told her what had taken place. Pat's Mamma was all the more vexed when she heard that the hoop was taken out against the Nurse's wish, because of a letter that had just come. " Ah, Pat, what a pity you don't always do as you are told ! " said Mrs. Smith. " Here is a letter from your Aunt Judith, who is going to give a children's party, to which she has asked Emma, but not you. She tells me that, in spite of all she could say to you, your conduct was so bad, when last you were at her house, that she cannot have you there again." Pat cried in earnest when he heard this news ; but his tears were useless. 109 ooR old Peter e was for many a good workman ; great deal of water came through the thatch of his cottage one winter, and the damp brought on a fever, IIQ Old Peter. which left him helpless for the rest of his life. Little Tom caught sight of the old man, as he was passing the window one day, and cried, *' There s Peter that used to drive our cart." Then Mr. Jones, the father of the boy, went to the door and called to Peter. The old man, stick in hand, came limping back, and stood in the door- way, while Mr. Jones asked after the health of Peter, and told him that Mrs. Jones had half a cheese and some other things, which had been put in a basket for him. Turning to her children, Mrs. Jones said, " Which of you has any-thing for poor Peter ? He is in very great need." Dora, who was sitting on a stool, thought for a moment, and then said, "He might take my new spelling-book : I don't want it, Mamma." Ill Old Petef. While Mr. Jones and his wife were laughing at the words of Dora, there was a movement of Tom towards the door where Peter stood, and the boy held out a shilling, as he said, " Here, Peter, you may have that ; it 's all I 've got." But the old man did not like to take the money, till Mr. Jones made a sign to Peter that he was to do so. When Tottie saw what her brother had done, she peeped round the door-way, and said, looking at her Papa, " I would give a shilling too, if I had one." " But you have two-pence which I gave you this morning," said Mrs. Jones. "Oh, that!" replied Tottie; "that I want to buy candy with." '' Ah, Tottie," said her mother, " you give away only what you don't much want, see. 112 A ZEBRA. If any of you children have seen a zebra, you can hardly need to be told of the beauty of its skin, striped as it is with black upon a ground of cream-white. This pretty creature, it may surprise you to hear, is both savage and crafty. It will slink up to its keeper with a playful movement of its nostrils and upper lip, as if wanting to be patted, and will then strike out wildly with its fore feet ; or it will hide behind a door, and will rush out when it sees you go away from its den, and will snap and snort with rage. Its nice round back seems to invite you to take a ride ; but if you were put upon it by some means — a zebra would not let you get on it like a horse or a pony — you would be thrown off in an instant. It is better far to have a plain -looking donkey than a handsome 2ebra. 114 A SILLY PLAN. Not a very long while ago there were three boys from London at a large school in Lichfield. The name of the tallest, and, I think, the oldest of them, was George. The other two were brothers; and one was called Henry, and the other Joseph. The school-master, Doctor Fell, worked very hard, and did all he could to teach his pupils. But George was very idle, and would not learn his lessons, so he often got a whipping. He used to sulk for an • hour or two when he was beaten ; but he went on no better after. One morning Joseph, who was not at all quick at learning lessons, got a few i sharp cuts from a cane, for not knowing ' the year when the Battle of the Nile was won* by the English ; so Henry was in much grief about his brother Joe; and when they were going to bed that night, I IS 8 — 2 A Silly Plan. Henry looked at Joe's left hand, and saw- that the paini of it was swollen. Now, Henry was so ver)^ fond of his brother, that this sight caused the elder boy to think of writing home to his uncle — they had neither father nor mother — to tell of Joe's treatment. But when Joe heard of this, he said, " It would do no good, for you know that uncle told Doctor Fell not to spare the rod : those were the very words." While the brothers were talking, George came to them, and said, " Look here, you have been speaking about the rod and Joe's hand. What fools you both are to stay here ! Why don't you run away ? " Henry looked at Joseph; but neither of them were ready to say a word in reply. " I 'm getting sick of the place, and the bother they make about me when I can't say my lessons. Now, tell me, how much Il6 A Silly Plan. money have you both got ? " George went on, as he thrust his hands into his pockets and made a jingle with the coins there. " Nothing," was the answer of both brothers. " Well, you should "run away all the same," said George. , " What time 's best ? " asked Henry ; " I suppose night." . " No, morning, just as it begins to dawn," was what George replied ; and then, finding that the two brothers looked in a timid way at the window, he added, " I know a far better way to get out than that, though the window is so near the ground, that it would only be a good jump," " I wouldn't jump it, George," said Joe ; ** it 's too high." " Besides, there is a large flower- pot right beneath," said Henry. A Silly Plan. "Well, you need. not jump it at all, I tell you," was George's answer, " All you've to do is to meet me just at day- break outside my room, and I '11 show you the way out." " But how should, we get home ? " asked Joe. " Walk it," replied George, boldly ; and then he stopped, for there was a slight noise outside the door, like a short laugh. " What was that ? " asked Joe. " I don't know," said' Henry. " Perhaps it 's some one outside." " Let us look," said George in a whisper- and then he went softly to the door, turned the handle, and put his head out. There was no one to be seen, so he smiled at their alarm, and soon after bade the brothers good night. Of course, neither Henry nor Joe went Ii8 THE BOYS CAXjaHT. 119 A Silly Plan. to bed that night. They talked for a long time as to what they should say to their uncle, and spent the rest of their time in making up a bundle of clothes. As soon as it began to get light, Henry and his brother went on tip -toe to the door of George, and waited for him to come out. But it was broad day before they saw him appear, and then he said, " We must be quick, for I Ve slept too long. You go down-stairs and through the kitchen ; the door is only bolted." " But you will come with us ? " asked Henry, who saw that George was going towards the bed-room which had just been left by the two brothers. "No, I shall try the jump from the window, and then go through the wood," was George's answer, as he turned away. Henry and his brother crept down-stairs, s 120 A Silly Plan. and went along a passage to the kitchen. They found that the door leading to the yard, where the fowls were kept, had but one bolt under the latch, so they soon got outside, and then climbed over a low wall, round which they ran till they came to a broad ditch, that they could not get over. But when they turned back, there was an open place In a hedge, through which they got, and then walked past the church till they came to a broad street. They were just passing a corner, when Doctor Fell seized both of them by the collar of the jacket ; and Henry was in such a fright, that he dropped the buhdle which he had thrown over his shoulder. Doctor Fell said that he should punish them, and told the boys that he knew all about their plan, from the first moment that it was talked of by George. 121 A Silly Plan. *' But where is he, where is George Morton ? " asked the school-master. xThe two boys were silent, and on their way back to school they began to wonder if George had. really got away. But it was not till the night after that they heard of the droll mishap which befell the eldest of the three boys. He got safe off to the wood that May morning, and had nearly walked across, when a sudden turn in the path brought him -face to face with a very big man, holding a very thick stick under his arm. "What right have you in this here wood ? " asked the man, who was some- thing like a game-keeper in dress. " I was only going ," began George. " Of course you were going," said the man, in a voice that was very gruff; " and I '11 be bound you were going after the birds. You come along with me." So say- 122 GEOBGE AND THE GAME-KEEPEE. 123 A Silly Plan. ing, the man took hold of George, and after walking about two miles, locked him in an upper room of a cottage till mid - day. George had begun to suffer a good deal from hunger, when the game-keeper threw open the door, ajid said, "Now then, Sir Robert is ready to hear what you've got to say about that trespass on his land." When, George got to Sir Robert's house, he told the game-keeper's master all about trying to run away from school with Henry and his brother. So George was sent back to Doctor Fell, and fared worse than the two brothers. 124 SUN-RISE AND SUN-SET. Polly lives with her Papa by the sea - side. From the window of the room where she sleeps she can look at the sea and the ships as they pass by. In the winter, when the wind roared, and the sea was lashed into foaming waves, , 125 Sun-rise and Sun-set she was afraid when she heard the showers of sea-spray dashing against her window, as she took off her clothes and got ready for bed. But now sunimer has come, and the sea is calm, she looks with pleasure on the sun's light as it sparkles on the water. The distant hills have put on a brighter green since those cold and stormy days, when she could not walk on the white road over the cliff of chalk, because the wind was so strong, that she was in danger of being blown off her feet She rises earlier now, and is glad to see the sun high above the top of a far-off mountain. " I wonder where the sun comes from," she often says to the old Nurse who has had charge of the little girl since she was a baby. But the Nurse only smiles and shakes her head, which makes Polly think that 126 there is some secret about the sun's hiding-place which Nurse Ellen will not tell. At length there came a time when Polly's father heard her question, and he said, stroking the silken hair of his little girl, " My pet, the sun is always in the same place." 127 Sun-rise and Sun-set. "Oh, no, that can never be!" said Polly, " because it comes from behind a big hill over there, and it always goes away right down into the sea." " Not always ; and even when it looks to you as if it did, you mistake the move- ment of the world where we live for the movement of the sun," replied Polly's father. " Papa, I 'm sure I Ve seen it go into the sea," ishe said. " Well, next Friday we are going to the lakes, and then you shall see the sun go down behind the hills where there is no sea, Polly." He kept his promise ; and she saw that her Papa was right. Now that she has grown much bigger, and has a lady to teach her each day, Polly has learnt much about the moon as well as the Sun. 128 WHITE BEABS. 129 WHITE BEARS. " Papa, I have just seen a bear," cried Edith, as she ran out of the hall into the garden, where Captain Sharpe was putting water on some flowers which he had just planted. " Where did you see it, my dear ? " asked he, as he made a pause in his work and smiled on his daughter. " There is a show in the village, and it was outside," she said. " Did you ever see a bear, Papa ? " " Scores. What was the colour of the bear that you saw, Edith ? " " Brown, of course," replied Edith, with a laugh. "They are all brown. Papa. Peter, the new groom, says he has seen a lot of them." " Peter is wrong," said Captain Sharpe; " there are white bears, which are found among the ice at the North Pole." 130 P^v-*"^;-^^- ■^=.*&: BRIES SONG. *' What was that song f f ^ about, which I heard you sing a verse of last Sun- day ? " asked Mrs. Taylor of her niece Brie, while they sat watching the sheets of rain, driven by a strong wind against the windows, one wintry day. 131 9—2 Erie's Song. " About the ship ? Oh, I am not sure that I know all the words. I learnt off a few of the verses from Jane last week, and she sang it three times, that I might catch the tune," said Brie. " Well, let me hear the words, so far as you can call them to mind," said Mrs. Taylor. "The song is about Christ in the storm," said Brie ; and then she sang, in a sweet childish voice : " A little ship was on the sea^ It was a pretty sight ; It sailed along so pleasantly, While all was calm and bright. " But, lo ! a storm began to rise ; The wind was loud and strong, It blew the clouds across the skies, It blew the waves along. " And all, save One, were sore afraid Of sinking in the deep. 132 Bries Song. His head was on a pillow laid, And He was fast asleep. " ' Master, we perish : Master, save ! ' They cried. The Master heard. He rose, rebuked the winds and waves, ' And stilled them with a word ! " • " You do not quite knov^ the words," said Jane, who had come into the room w^hile the singing had been going on. Brie was silent for a minute or two, and did not seem to heed this remark. Then she said, with a thoughtful look, " But Jesus does not always still the storm when He is asked, aunt; else that large ship would not have been broken all to pieces on the shore." " We do not know what wise ends God has in view when such things occur," was the reply. 133 OSWALD'S BARGAIN. When David Grant went to the first school he ever was at, he had to sleep in the same room with a boy two years older than himself. This boy's name was Oswald. The very next night after David got to the school, Oswald asked, just before they began to go to bed, what his new school- fellow had in a small deal box that lay upon his trunk, David went to the box, and took out a little boat, rigged like a cutter. " Oh, what a beauty ! " cried Oswald. " David, who was very shy, without speaking, held out the boat, so that the other might look at it. " Eh, are you going to give it me ? " said Oswald, who was very apt to covet what did not belong to him, if it took his fancy. A little more colour came into David's 134 Oswald's Bargain. face as he heard this awkward question. He did not quite like to refuse ; but he was far too fond of his boat to give it away to a boy that was almost a stranger. After a few moments' silence, he said, in a low voice, "No, I can't give it you ; " and then he added, " but I '11 let you sail it some day." " Well, look here, I '11 give you some- thing for it. Come and sit on my bed, and I can show you a lot of nice things that I have in my trunk." Oswald had no sooner said this, than he took up a box with a leather cover, and put it on his bed. As soon as David, at the request of Oswald, had taken a seat on the bed, the elder boy raised the lid of his box, and pointed to a small bag of marbles. " Twenty marbles ; come, will you take them for the ship ? " asked Osw;ald, who 135 Oswald's Bargain. was mean enough to be willing to profit by the youth of David, a little fellow, not yet seven years old. " Twenty marbles, in a nice bag, are as good as a boat with only one mast, any day." " I want to keep my boat," said David, who did not know, though, that his Papa had given more than forty times as much money for the boat as Oswald had for the bag of marbles. *' Then I '11 tell you what we will do," said Oswald, searching among the clothes in his trunk; " here is a peg-top," he went on, as he held one out in his hand, " and you shall have that as well as the marbles. And, David, I '11 lend you the boat when you like." The simple David had too much good- nature to refuse, though he did not know how to spin a peg-top, so he gave up the 136 OSWAIiB'S BAEGAIIir. 137 Oswald's Bargain. boat. But Oswald only laughed when David asked for the loan of the boat, which he had parted with for a bag of marbles and a top, neither of which he wished to have. Once when David, a second time, begged Oswald to lend the boat, the younger boy was asked by some of his play-mates if that was the boat which he had sold to Oswald. " Yes, and he promised to lend it to me when I liked," replied David, whose blue eyes began to fill with tears. " How much did he give you for it?" asked a big boy. David told him ; and then all the boys set up a shout, and said that he was a silly fellow. But many of them were kind to David that day, while Oswald they hooted, crying, ' Give him back his boat." 138. Just as Madge was going up to bed one night, she was asked by her mother to make a small silk bag next day. " I want to show your Grandma how nicely you can sew," added Mrs. Ware to her little girl ; " and the 139 Idle Madge-. bag will do to hold her knitting. She is coming to tea on Thursday, and as this is Tuesday, you will have two whole days to finish it — twice as long as you need." Madge was much pleased to hear these words, and made a promise to have the bag done in time to give it to her Grandma when she came. Early next day Madge was given silk enough for the bag ; but the day wore on, and still she did not begin the work. To- wards night she put in a few stitches, but then she gave a great yawn, said that she was " so tired," and left her needle stick- ing in one side of the bag. Thursday morning came, the day on which the gift was wanted ; but still Madge put off the time for going on with her work. When the children's dinner-hour came, 140 Idle Madge. Mrs. Ware asked Madge if she had made the bag. " I shall have it done in time, Mamma," replied Madge ; and then Mrs. Ware said no more. There was now no time to be lost ; but as the day was mild and sunny, Madge thought that she would go into the meadow and do her work there. As she went, she often stopped to pluck the wild flowers, and at last she sat down at the foot of a tree, to m.ake them into little bunches, which she tied with thread. Then she thought of the bag, and began to sew it. But ere long she fell asleep in the sultry air, and tea-time had come, when the caw- ing of a flock of rooks awoke her. She raised her eyes to the sky, and for a moment was full of wonder as to where she was ; but soon she saw the silk for the 141 Idle Madge bag lying in her lap, and then she looked at it in distress ; for the failing light told her that it was past tea-time. As to the bag, it was now quite too late to finish it ; indeed, it was not yet half made. She took her way homewards in shame and distress ; and the charming warble of a bird, hidden by the branches of a tree which she passed, were not heeded by her. T42 GEESE AND THEIE YOUNG ONES. 143 GEESE AND THEIR YOUNG ONES. Rose took a walk one fine day with her elder sister Sally, who had the baby in her arms. When they had gone a good way through the fields, Rose took out a book which her uncle had brought her ; but as she was only six, and had but just learnt her letters, of course she could not read a word of it. But she had got Sally to read a few of, the stories to her, and now wanted her to read some more ; for Rose could take great delight in a tale, though she could not read any of it. But Sally was now too busy with the baby, so Rose went with her to look at a flock of geese and their little ones, the goslings. " You must not tease them," said Sally, who saw that her sister was poking a switch at them. But Rose would not take advice, and so got a fright from the geese. 144 A LOST PURSE. There was once a boy called Titus Top, and his play-mates at school made fun of his name at first ; but as he only laughed in return more loudly than they, nearly all of them grew tired of such rude jokes, when it was found that he himself seemed to enjoy them quite as much as any pupil there. But there were two boys, Green and Brown, who looked on Titus with great dislike, and often tried to quarrel with him. It was all in vain, for Titus, to let you know the whole truth, never felt even the sharpest words keenly, and so it cost him no effort at all to keep his temper about a thing which did not in any way vex him. As time went on, some of the boys said that Titus Top had more good - nature than any of them, but others thought that he was really a stingy and rather stupid 145 10 A Lost Purse. fellow. Those who spoke of his good- nature, called to mind that he was always calm and smiling ; but those who thought him stingy, did not forget that he had a very large plum-cake sent to him from home on each of the two birth-days which had passed since he came to Elm House School, and that he had eaten every morsel of them himself, for no boy could be found who could say that he had tasted a bit of either of the presents. At length a day came when Titus was to find his true level among his school- fellows. He took a walk about mid-day, and was seen to pass the corner of a street by Green and Brown. They chanced to take the same road, at some distance behind Titus Top, who did not know that these boys had him in view. A lady, who was going on before him, put a purse into the 146 A LOST PUESE. 147 10 —2' A Lost Purse. pocket of her dress ; but some-how this purse fell to the ground, and she went on, knowing nothing of the loss which she had just had. But Titus had been looking at the lady, and saw her drop the purse. See- ing her walk away, he picked up the purse ; but instead of taking it to the owner, as an honest boy would have done, he turned quickly round a corner, and when he got under an arch-way, where he thought no one would b)e likely to see him, he opened the purse, and found it full of gold and silver. Now, it chanced that Titus Top had been seen to pick up the purse by Green and by Brown, who had also seen it fall from the pocket of the lady. At first they made sure that Titus would run after her ; but when they saw him hurry round a corner, they dogged his steps, and watched him as he looked into the purse. On their way back to school. Green told 148 A Lost Purse. Brown that he knew the name of the lady who had lost the money^ — she was a doctor's wife — and proposed that they should at once tell the head master of what they had seen. As Brown agreed that they ought to do so, they saw Mr. Stokes, and told their story. Then Titus was sent for ; and when he had been made to give back the purse to the lady, he was told that, after such a disgrace, he could not be kept any longer at Elm House School. Green had a plum-cake sent by the lady a day or two after. .c."* -•^. '^^w 149 DERWENTS RIDE. As Major Sutcliffe rode up to the main entrance of the Grange, Derwent was on the steps, and went to receive the old friend of his father. "Shall I get your horse put into the stable ? " asked the boy, as Major Sutcliffe shook hands with him. " No, thank you ; I can only stay ten minutes," was the Major's reply. "Then I will take care of him myself," said Derwent. No sooner had the owner of the horse entered the house, than Derwent thought he should like to have a short ride ; so he got into the saddle and shook the reins. The horse started back, reared, and then went off through the gate at a gallop, in spite of all Derwent could do. In leaping a hedge, on the other side of which there were some boys playing cricket, the horse threw Derwent to the ground, and broke his leg. ISO DEEWBIirT'S EIDi!. ISI A DUCK'S QUARREL. A LONG, long while ago, two ducks took a strong liking to each other, and passed a very happy life at the large pond where they lived. When people threw into the water^ or on the ground, a bit of bread, they were far less greedy in trying to gobble it up from each other than such birds always are. The larger and more handsome of the two friends was known by the name of Red - Eyes, and the other was called Thin- Neck. Said Red -Eyes one morning, as she thrust her beak under each wing, and pulled out two or three loose feathers, " I think the water in the pond will be very nice to-day, after all the rain last night." Her friend Thin -Neck, who had just awoke, gave something like a yawn, as she replied, "It will be better than it has been^ but what a pity the rain is not falling to- IS2 A Duck's Quarrel. tf SRtT^ day also. I like to feel the patter of the drops on my back ; and then, too, plenty of rain makes the ground about here so nice and sloppy." " That is quite true," said Red- Eyes ; '' but a little rain is better than none." Thin- Neck shook her tail, which was her way of laughing, and said, " Well, I won't dispute that with you ; but had we not better get into the water ? " 153 A Duck's Quarrel. The two ducks then went with their usual slow waddle to the pond. After re- maining there for more than an hour, Red- Eyes came to land again, and at the same time got a friendly nod from rather a dirty duck, called Rooter. "It is quite a wonder to see you away from your dear friend Thin- Neck," was the remark that fell from the bill of Rooter. " I am very fond of her," said Red- Eyes, simply, " and there is no doubt that she is just as fond of me." "Is she ? " said Rooter, in a tone of doubt. " Of course ; why, she loves and admires me more than I can tell you," replied Red- Eyes. Rooter turned away her head, to hide a look of contempt, and then said, " I think she hardly loves you so much as you sup- pose; and as to saying that she admires you, that I am quite sure she does not." IS4 ' A DUCK'S QUAREEL. 155 A Duck's Quarrel. " You 2.vc\2a.^ me ! " cried Red - Eyes ,' " why, it was only the other day that she told me that there was not a duck on the pond so pretty as I." Rooter stopped and thrust her beak into some gravel, in order to give herself time to think over what she should reply. This duck could not bear to hear any bird praised but herself, and so she was much vexed to find that Thin- Neck had spoken so well of Red- Eyes. After a few minutes' silence, Rooter slowly quacked these words : " It was but ' yesterday that your friend told me you had more silly conceit than any duck near here, and that your eyes, about which you think so much, were not both of the same colour." " The false wretch ! " cried Red- Eyes. " Of course, you won't tell what I 've said ? " quacked Rooter. Red - Eyes did not reply, for at that ii6 A Duck's Quarrel. moment she caught sight of Thin- Neck , coming up from the pond, and flew at her old friend with savage fury. Thin- Neck, in a fright, turned and fled ; but she was caught by the back of the head, and got a sharp bite from Red- Eyes. After sadly pulling about the feathers of poor Thin-Neck, some of which were now sticking to the bill of Red-Eyes, the passion of the last-named bird began to cool, and Thin-Neck got a chance of gasp- ing out, " Oh ! why have you treated me in this way ? " " You know what you said about my eyes to Rooter." " I declare I never spoke about you to Rooter in all my life," sobbed Thin- Neck. This was quite true; but Red- Eyes was silly enough to believe Rooter, whom she scarcely knew, rather than an old friend like Thin- Neck. 157 THE HAPPY DAY. Mrs. Mill and her children, Ruth and Bella, like Sunday- better than anv other day in the week ; for then Mr. Mill is at home with them, instead of out at work, as on other days. Both the little girls go with their Papa to church; and whea IS8 The Happy Day. dinner is over, and the plates and dishes put away, he takes down the Bible from the shelf where it is kept. This is a signal for Mrs. Mill to sit down beside her two girls ; and when she has done so, Mr. Mill reads to them some pretty story from the Holy Book before him. Then Ruth and Bella repeat the hymns which they have been learning during the week ; and she who is the more correct, as to the words, gets as a reward an apple or an orange. As Ruth is the elder of the two, one would think that she would always excel her sister in such things ; but this is not so, for Ruth is often careless when her mother is teaching her the verses, while Bella tries hard to learn ; and besides that, she does not forget what she has learnt so quickly as Ruth. 159 FLORENCE AND , HER DOG. Ever since the winter before last, Florence has had a very nice dog of her own. She got him in this way : One cold night, when she was coming back to her fathers farm, after taking tea with her aunt, she saw that a fine black and brown dog had taken it into his head to follow her. The fact was, that poor Carlo had lost his master more than a fortnight before, and was too tired and hungry to wander any longer in search of him. When Florence got home, she took the dog in and fed him ; and at supper that night, her father said that he would try to find Carlo's master. But the dog was never claimed by his real owner, and so Carlo always follows Florence when she goes out for a walk with her sisters in fine weather. 1 60 TLOEENGE AND HEK DOG. l6l 11 A DARK DAY. The day was so foggy, that it was quite dark, and the lamps in the streets of London were all lit. In the shops the people sold their wares by gas-light ; but few went out to buy, except those who had to get bread, meat, coals, or any other thing they might need for food. It was not a day for ladies to buy shawls and laces. At the west-end of London, where Edith and John Dale lived, it was less foggy than in the City ; still, it was quite unfit for the children to go out ; and in- stead of taking a walk in Hyde Park, as they did nearly every day, they had to play in the house. To all the grown-up folk it seemed a dismal day ; but children have often the best of it, and see fun in things that are dull enough to Papas and Mammas. Thus Edith and John thought it quite droll to sit down to lunch with the 162 .t tf. \ .A>- i)ASH DRESSED UP. 163 11—2 A Dark Day. gas burning over their heads : it was just like taking a seven o'clock dinner. When they rose from the table, they went to look out of the window, but could see nothing, except the dim light of the nearest lamp. " Mamma, where is the street ? I can't^ see it ; and where have the houses on the other side gone to ? " asked Edith. " They are there, my dear, though you can't see them ; just as God is here, though we are unable to see Him," she answered. "Was it like this in Egypt, Mamma, when Pharaoh would not let the Hebrews go, and God made it dark all over the land ?" asked John, as he left the window, and went to warm himself at the fire. " I don't think darkness at all a nasly plague," broke in Edith. " You would not say that if you had to go out into the darkness," said Mrs. Dale. 164 A Dai'k Day. But Edith gave very little heed to the words ; for just then Dash, a large dog, came into the room. " Oh, come and let us play with Dash!" said John. Edith agreed, and they ran away to get things to dress him up with, like a dog they had seen at a show. Edith got a cap her Papa had brought from Turkey, and put it on the head of the dog, and John got a long pipe, such as the Turks use, and tried to get Dash to hold it in his paw. Then Edith got a dusting-broom, made of feathers, and stuck it in Dash's cap, to make him appear grand. " Does he not look funny ? " cried John, as he looked at the good dog. But Dash was thinking of his supper, and began to bark for it. i6s THE POOR PUP. John and Edith did not live all the year round in London, but went in summer to their Papa's country house. Here they had for play-mate a black pup, that had been born in the stable. One day Mrs. Dale told the children to leave their play, and come and be dressed, as she was go- ing to drive into town, and meant to take them with her. John was playing with Juno, the black pup, at the time, so he asked if it might go to town too ; but his Mamma said she could not take any dogs with her. Soon after the chaise was brought round to the door, and, the two children being ready, took their seats in it. The pup crawled in too, unseen by Mrs. Dale, whose back for the moment was turned towards the chaise. John quickly pushed Juno under the seat ; but before they had 1 66 The Poor Pup. driven half a mile, Mrs. Dale found some- thing tug at her dress. It was Juno, busy biting a hole in her silk gown. "He jumped in himself. Mamma, it wasn't my fault," cried John, who knew, his Manima would be angry, unless he could convince her he had not had any part in bringing the pup into the chaise. But Mrs. Dale said that he ought to have told her that Juno was with them, in time to put her out, and that it was now too late to do so. When they reached town, Mrs. Dale took the children into a shop with her, and Juno went .after them. But a great many people were passing, and the poor pup became quite scared, for it was a new thing to it to be in a crowded street. In a moment half a dozen people were be- tween it and its friends. Seeing a tall 167 The Poor Pup. lady in black crossing the street, Juno thought it might be Mrs. Dale ; at least he would run and smell her. What should a country-bred pup know of the dangers of London streets ? There were six cabs, as well as some carts, waggons, and vans passing as poor Juno ran into the middle of the street. A minute or so after, Mrs. Dale heard Edith ask John if he knew where Juno was, and heard him reply that he did not know what had become of it. At this, Mrs. Dale left the shop in haste, and see- ing a small crowd of people on the pave- ment close by her own chaise, and some one speaking to her groom, the sad truth flashed upon hen Juno had been run over, and a man who loved dogs had picked her up ! The two children were quite wretched i68 THE POOE rUP. 169 The Poor Pup. at seeing their poor little friend in pain, and John cried nearly all the way home. But: Juno did not suffer long; he died next day, and was buried under the shade of a tree near the house. Frank and Mary Mill had come to visit their cousins, the Dales, that day ; so Frank, who was a big boy, dug the grave ; and Mrs. Dale, with her two children, went to see the pup put in the ground. Junos mother, too, was there, looking down at the remains of her offspring with a sad air. The black cat, too, paid its last mark of respect for the harmless little pup that had come to so sad an end ; and, to complete the group, Mary Mill took the kitten to see Juno put into the grave, and told her pet to take a lesson by the pup's fate, and avoid great cities. 170 ill A PLEASANT NIGHT. There is a story of two little German boys, that were so good, that when they went to sleep on Christmas Eve, five Angels came to see them in their bed- room. With them they brought a number of toys ; besides that, one Angel brought a Christmas-tree, and one fetched gifts to 171 A Pleasant Night. hang upon it. An Angel took his seat upon a stool, and began to play upon a harp, and one sat upon the foot of the bed playing a guitar ; while the fifth folded his arms, and leant upon the top of the bed, putting good and happy thoughts, I dare say, into the minds of the sleeping children. Among the toys was a sheep, made of wood, and not very well made, and another was a poorly -clad doll, that leant against a basket of other toys, just as if it were tipsy. Perhaps it had sold its best clothes for money to buy beer. This makes me think the story can't be true. At any rate, English children expect Angels to do something better for them than to give them toys. Any man or woman with a kind heart and a little money can do that. 172 THE DOLLS HOUSE. " Oh, Mamma, I wish to-morrow were come ! Can we not do anything to make it come quicker ? " said Httle Agnes Hay one day. " If I were to go to bed sooner, wouldn't that make to-morrow come much quicker?" she added, with an earnest look. "It is a new thing to hear you propose going to bed early, Agnes," said Mrs. - Hay, with a smile. "That is because I cfm in such haste 173 The Doll's House. to go to Doras, you see. Might not she have asked me to go to-day, Mamma ? " Agnes's cousin, Dora, had just been given a doll's house, and it was to ^ee this new toy that Agnes was so eager to visit her cousin. Next day the sun shone bright, and Agnes went with her Papa in his dog-cart to the house where Dora lived. The two cousins, who were about the same age, were always very glad to see each other. If at any time they had a dispute, they soon made it up again ; for they found that it was better to give way to each other than to have no one to play with, Dora had no sisters, and her three brothers were all away at school ; while Agnes had no brothers, and her only sister had died a year ago. Dora was almost as eager to show Agnes her fine gift as the other was to see it, and began 174 The Doll's House. to watch at the window for her uncle's dog-cart a long time before she could in reason expect to see it. When it did arrive, Dora took her cousin's hand, and they ran together to the play -room. Then when Agnes had taken off her hat and cloak, the two little girls sat down in front of the doll's house, and began to enjoy themselves. One room in the tiny house had a sofa, a table, three chairs, and a foot-stool ; and one had a dresser, with plates and dishes on it, so they played at having dinner. I7S ON THE SANDS, The month of June is always hailed with joy by the little Smiths ; for then they go to the sea-side, and are as happy as the day is long. In June, you know, the day is very long. Their cousins, the 176 On the Sands. Browns, often go with them, and that makes quite a large party. With a spade and a pail — and they have all little spades and pails — there is no end to the fun to be had on the sands. Sometimes three or four of the children unite their efforts to make a river, and to put a bridge across it. For the river, all that is needed is to dig a channel, and let the water from the sea run into it. That work Hugh Smith does himself; but for the bridge the aid of his sisters is needed. As for Julia Smith, she likes to go about by herself in search of queer bits of sea-weed. On the stern of a boat is seated Alick Brown, looking at the sea, and thinking how nice it must be to go out in a boat and catch fish. Mary Brown's taste is to wade, and she coaxes her younger sister to do the same, and so they are all happy. 177 12 THE BEST THING TO BUY. When Uncle Hugh went to visit his sister, he was much pleased with his little niece, Emma,, and wished that he had brought her a doll or a book. As he had not done that, he gave her a piece of money. Now Emma had no less than six dolls : one dressed as a young infant, one as a lady going to a ball, and one as a fish- wife ; her three others were older, and all more or less broken ; still, they were good for playing with. Every little girl knows, that when one wants to play at having a sick baby, a doll with a broken nose is a useful thing to have. Besides her dolls, Emma had a number of other toys ; so many, indeed, that though she tried, she could not think of any play-thing she would like to buy. " Mamma, what shall I do with my money? " she asked, as Mrs. Fox, Emma's mother, came into the room. THE BEST THING TO BUY. i79 The Best Thing to Buy. " I would advise you to buy something very, very nice," said Mrs. Fox. " Oh, that is just what I want to do ! " re- pHed Emma. Then after a pause, she said, "Are there any dolls' harps. Mamma? be- cause I should like to teach my lady -doll to play the harp like Cousin Ann." "If you mean to buy a doll's harp, let me tell you that would be but a poor way of spending, your gift. Listen, and I will show you how you can buy one of the sweetest joys I know." Mrs. Fox then told her little girl of a sad case of distress about which she had just heard. Emma looked grave as she heard of the widow and her seven poor children who had no food to eat ; but, at the same time, did not know why her Mamma spoke of them just then. A few minutes after, she 1 80 The Best Thing to Buy. went out with her Mamma to walk, and on their way they came upon a poor boy, sitting by the side of the road. He was the son of the very widow Mrs. Fox had been teUing Emma about. Emma had her uncle's gift jn her pocket, so she took it out, and went up and gave it to the boy. Then she knew that to help those who are in need is a great joy. i8i THE ORPHANS. Beyond the outskirts of London, and not far from Barnet Wood, there lived, many years ago, a merchant named Pal- grave. He was a very rich man, and owned a great deal of land in the county. His house, which was a fine one, stood in ample grounds, and nearly all the land round it was owned by Mr. Palgrave. It was his custom each morning before break- fast to walk out alone — he had no longer any children to share his rambles — and once or twice, while taking his walk, he had seen the figure of a little girl, in an old blue dress, gliding in and out among the trees, and often stooping to pick up something. The next time that he caught sight of the old blue dress, he called to the wearer ; but she quickly took to her heels, and ran at her utmost speed across the fields to- 182 183 The Orphans. wards some poor cottages, which it had pleased a builder to scatter near the en- trance to Barnet. At length on a certain Sunday morning, full three hours before the pleasant jangle of the church bells would begin, Mr. Pal- grave saw the child in the blue gown mounting a stile on some land of his own. As there was no other outlet by which one so young would be likely to return, he made up his mind to wait for her, in order to see what it was that she went out to gather. He had been leaning his elbows on the stile for a few minutes, when the girl came down a side-walk, with her eyes fixed on the ground, and raised them only when she was about to get over the stile. She started back when she saw Mr. Pal- grave, and then his eyes fell upon a bundle of sticks which she had in her arms. 184 The Orphans. " I called to you the other day, when you were on my land, but you ran away," he said, mildly. " What are you going to do with that wood of mine which you have there ? " *' Make a fire with it," she replied, after a silence of some moments, during which she stole a timid look at Mr. Palgrave. " Where do you live ? " he asked. " Over yonder," she said, pointing with one hand to a distant cottage, while with the other hand she clutched the bundle of sticks. " And that key which hangs round your waist ? " he asked. " Oh, this is the key of our door ! " she said, touching it with her fore-finger. " What is your name ? " he asked. " Jane Porson," was her answer. " Well, I shall call and inquire about i8s The Orphans, you to-morrow," he said. " You may take away the sticks this time." Jane gave no reply, but made off as fast as she could ; and the next day Mr. Pal- grave went to the cottage pointed to by Jane, But when he knocked at the door, there was no answer, and he soon began to think that the cottage was empty, for no one came, in spite of all the noise he could make at the door. At last a plough- man came by, and he touched his hat as he told Mr. Palgrave that the house must be empty, for that John Porson had died more than a fortnight ago, and that his three children had gone away to London, he thought. The plough-man then went on his way, and Mr. Palgrave was about to return home, when Jane was seen coming along the road, with a loaf under her arm. 186 The Orphajts. " I thought you told me that you lived here," said Mr. Palgrave, pointing to the door at which he had been knocking. " Yes, sir, so I do," she replied ; " but I keep the door locked, because of my little brothers." She put the key that she now had in her hand into the door, and they both entered the cottage. " Have you no parents ? " he asked. " My father and mother are both dead, and I have to take care of my two brothers." Mr. Palgrave looked into a room as this was said to him, and saw a boy of six years, and one of only four, sitting by the embers of a wood fire. That day he took care to ask about Jane Porson and her brothers, at the cottage of a neighbour of hers, and there learnt that they were very poor orphans, and that Jane had worked hard to get a little food for them during 187 The^ Orphans. the past fortnight. While she was away from them, she always locked them in the house to keep them from harm. Touched by so pleasing an instance of loving care in one so young, Mr. Palgrave from that time took charge of the orphans. Jane was put to school, and was taught to read and write, neither of which could she do when she first met Mr. Palgrave. Her brothers became very fond of her as they grew up, and this she felt to be a great reward for her care of them. i88 LOTTIES LIE. The day being very warm, Mrs. Gash, the tanner's wife, went Lotties Lie. making a pair of stockings for her husband. Agnes, with a book full of pictures, went after her, and little Tom brought out his tin horse and cart. As soon as Mrs. Gash had taken a seat by the porch, she sent to tell Lottie, her eldest child, to take a basket, and get ready to go out for some things that had to be bought. Lottie soon came into the garden, and then her mother gave her money to buy butter, sugar, tea, and candles. Away she went through the garden -gate, leaving Agnes turning over the leaves of her book, and little Tom playing with his horse and cart. As Lottie was on her way back, with four-pence change in her hand, she saw in a shop window a nice long stick of yellow barley-sugar, striped with white. Her mouth began to water as she stood look- ing at the tempting barley-sugar ; and at 190 Lotties Lie. last she hit upon a plan by which to get money to buy what she so much wished to have. It was a long and rather thick stick of sugar, so she had to pay two-pence for it. When she got back, instead of putting four-pence change into her mother's hand, she only put two-pence there. Mrs. Gash looked at the bronze pieces in surprise, and said, " Why, Lottie, you ought to have brought me four-pence back ! " " Sugar is a penny a pound dearer," said Lottie, who had just heard the grocer tell a woman that sugar would be raised in price in a day or two, " Dear me, that is a great deal to ad- vance in price all at once \ " said Mrs. Gash. " I must inquire about it." Lottie ate the barley- sugar in secret ; but somehow it did not taste so sweet as 191 Lottie's Lie. she thought it would. Then she began to fear that her mother would find out the lie which she had told about the price of the sugar ; and that night, when going to bed, Lottie could not say her prayers at her mother's knee, until she had told all, with bitter tears of sorrow, and made many promises to be honest and truthful for the future. Mrs. Gash was shocked and grieved to hear what her daughter had to confess, but was too good a woman not to forgive those that truly repent. 192 BRAVE LITTLE NANCY. One summer Mrs. Jay went with her two little girls, Nancy and Louie, to live in a nice cottage in the country. They had always dwelt before this in a house above a shop in a large town, and it was (^uite new to them to see the flowers grow in the woods, and to see the sheep and lambs in the fields. Nancy was much older than Louie, and able to walk faster than her little sister, whom she loved fondly ; but she never grudged the trouble it gave her to wait for Louie as they went along., ' On a certain sunny morning, Louie took up her basket, and asked Nancy to go with her into the wood to gather flowers. There was only one field be- tween them and the wood, so Nancy did not think it worth while to put her bonnet on. But a good deal can happen in a 193 13 BEAVE LITTLE NANCY. 194 Brave Little Nancy. short walk, and they had hot gone far be- fore that took place which showed the elder sister to be a brave girl. A cow, driven wild by gad-flies, and in a bad temper besides, ran towards the little girls, and put them into such a fright, that Nancy ran away as fast as she could, and left poor Louie behind. A minute after she heard a scream, and looking back saw her dear little sister lying on her face on the ground. Louie had tripped over a stone, and had fallen. The cow was much nearer now ; but Nancy forgot her own danger in thinking of that of her sister, and went as fast as she could to her aid. Just then a boy came up, and drove back the cow with a stick. When Louie was raised, she soon ceased crying. 19s 13 — 2 EFFIES PROMISE. vOw, MIND what I have said, Effie, for you are nearly eight years old, and I am quite shocked that you should be such a dunce." The speaker of these words was Mr. Dixon, the father of Effie. She laughed, raised her- self on tip-toe, and held up her face for a kiss, as Mr. Dixon drew on his gloves and got ready to go out. " I don't think that I ought to kiss so idle a girl. It is a disgrace to you that you should not know your letters at your age." " But, Pa, the doctor said that I wasn't to learn any lessons, because my health was not good," replied Effie, pertly. " That was more than a year ago ; but you are quite strong enough to begin learning something now, and so you have 196 Effies Promise. been all the summer. Before I kiss you, therefore, you must promise me to go about doing tlie tasks set you in good earnest. It is no use my paying for a teacher for you, when you won't learn anything." " Well, I can sew, and I can knit, if I can't read," said the girl, pouting. " But I want you to learn to read," was Mr. Dixon's answer. "" Oh, well, there 's no need for me to hurry! I heard Mr. Carson say to you that weakly children should not be made to learn too many lessons," said Effie. " But you learn none; and besides, you are no longer weakly, Effie." " Well, I don't like Miss Pratt. I wish I had some one else to teach me. She is cross and nasty," said Effie, tossing her head. IQ7 Effie's Promise. " That is just what you said about the other lady whom I engaged at mid-summer. In the case of Miss Pratt, I happen to know, that instead of being cross and nasty, as you say, she has a very good temper and is nice. You need not hope, then, that I shall send her away also. As to kissing you, unless you make me a promise to learn all your letters — you know some of them now — before this day month, I shall do no such thing," he said, turning away. " Well, I promise that I wz// learri them," she said. Mr. Dixon stooped and kissed his only child. In a few moments more the clatter of his horse's hoofs could be heard by Effie as he rode away. Miss Pratt had crossed the hall just as Effie's final words were spoken, so she heard the promise, 198 Effie's Promise. and lost no time in asking her pupil to go into the school-room with her ; but Effie broke away from the hand which was laid gently on her shoulder, and, saying that she had a head-ache, she ran off into the garden. About six weeks after the day when Effie gave her promise, she went into her father's study, and found him sitting before a table strewed with papers. " Papa, do you know that you made me a promise, one day, of a large wax doll, able to squeak and move its eyes ? " said Effie. " When did I promise that ? " he asked, drawing down the corners of his mouth and looking very grave. " When ! why, ever so many months ago, and you said I should have it on my birth-day, and this is my birth-day, and 199 Effie's Promise. it's now almost dinner-time, and I have not ^" Mr. Dixon stopped her, by saying, " Got the doll. I know you have not ; but what of that ? It was only a promise on my part." " Only a promise ! Oh, Papa, you have often said that people should keep their promises ! " cried Effie, in surprise. " Yes, I have. Now, do you see this new book that I have here ? " he said, as he placed one full of large letters, with pictures under them, on his knee. " Come to me, and let me hear if you can say all your letters without a mistake." " Oh, please don't ask me ! It is my birth-day, and I ought not to say lessons to-day," she pleaded. , " Do as I tell you," he said, holding up his finger in a v^^arning way. 200 EPPIE'S PEOMISE. 20 1 Effie's Promise. She knelt down with a half-sulky look, and failed to tell the letter k when she saw it. " I made you a promise," he said, rising, " and I was ready to keep it." He opened adrawer, and took out a very big doll, in a splendid dress of blue satin trimmed with lace. " Six weeks ago you gave me a promise, which you have made no effort to keep — I know how idle you have been — and now I shall give this doll to your 'Cousin Ellen. I do not feel bound to keep a promise made to one who does not think it worth her while to keep the promise which she has made to me," He put the doll back into the drawer, and Eiie burst into tears. But she soon dried her eyes, and made up her mind to learn her letters without further delay, , 202 . LOST LORD KELLY. Very soon after the death of his father, little Lord Kelly, then just nine years old, saw that all the people at the castle where he lived — the visitors as well as the ser- vants — began to notice him a good deal more than they had ever done before. This was quite a change fof him, as no one had tried very much to make friends with him during the life-time of the late Earl, except Corks, the chief butler. Indeed, Joseph — that was the name by which the youthful lord was called by his sisters' and cousins — was not allowed, while his father was alive, to have much of his own way in any respect. If the lad wanted to go out for a ride on his Shet- land pony when the rain was falling, the Earl — that is to say, the father of Joseph — would sharply refuse to let him go ; for the simple reason, that the old lord knew 203 Lost Lord Kelly. that his son was not strong enough to stand even a sUght wetting without catch- ing cold. In such cases the child had always found it quite in vain to try to gain the consent of the Earl to what he had once made up his mind to regard as an unwise request on the part of Joseph. Not that the old lord was an unkind father, far from it; but he knew very well that Joseph must be treated with great firmness to pre- vent his getting very often into mischief ; and it was really a sad loss to the boy when he had no one who would take the trouble to control his actions. Had his mother been still living, she might have proved a check upon his conduct ; but the Countess had died about a year before her husband. In short, Joseph, who was heir to all his father's vast estates, was a somewhat 204 Lost Lord Kelly. head-strong lad, who stood much in need of a firm and loving hand to guide him. Lady Sarah, one of his sisters, was nearly two years older than himself; but he gave no heed to what she said ; and of little Mabel, who was only six, he took but slight notice, though she, as well as her sister, were very fond of their only brother, and shared many of his rambles after the death of their father. Once when Joseph said that he should like to go fishing, and that he did not think such a drizzle would do him any harm — it was really a nasty, cold, wet day — he felt some surprise to find that, so far from trying to stop him from going out, one servant ran to get him his fishing- rod, another went off in search of bait, and a third, with a very low bow, handed him his hat. His aunt, who had now 205 Lost Lord l^elly. charge of him, made an effort to detain him ; but when he began to cry, she let him go, and the result was that he fell into the river, and got so wet, that he had a bad cough for some weeks after. , From the windows of Kelly-stone, as the castle was called, you could see the English Channel, and about a mile dis- tant there was a nice beach, most of which was sand. Joseph and his two sisters were one morning taken by their aunt and a cousin for a walk on this beach. The ladies sat down at last under a cliff to read, while the children made their way to the water's edge, in order to see the large waves breaking on the sea-shore. Though a strong wind was blowing, the air was not cold, so Joseph was the first to propose that his sisters and himself should take off their shoes and stockings. 206 Lost Lord Kelly.. >'^"^S'^ The girls rather Hked to walk -^^f with bare feet in the pools of salt water ; but they kept a good way from the surf Not so Joseph : he rolled up his trousers as far as he could get them to go, and shouted, 207 Lost Lord Kelly. " Now, then, Sally, come along. I am going to chase the waves as they draw back." " I forbid you to do any such thing," said his aunt. " You have not yet quite got rid of your cough." " Corks says that salt water will never give a fellow cold," cried out the young lord. " I wish you would not talk so much to Corks," was his aunt's reply, and then she went on reading her book, without giving herself any further trouble about her nephew. "It's all right, Sally," he said in a whisper, " she doesn't mind ; " and then away he ran. For some time he danced up and down, sometimes running close to the edge of a wave, as it drew back, and then when it dashed forward again, he 208 Lost Lord Kelly. would -scamper up the sands, laughing as the foaming water now and then caught him and splashed his bare legs. At length he ran farther along the beach, and his sisters went after him. As he passed by his aunt, he came upon Corks, who was then going back to the castle, having just got some orders about dinner. " I say. Corks, didn't you tell me that sea-water never gave people cold ? " called out Joseph. "Yes, my lord," replied Corks, — he was the head butler, you know ; '" but all the same I think your lordship had better keep away from that part of the beach beyond the cliff; there's holes there, full of water, that you might fall into. And, Lady Sarah, you and Lady Mabel should put on your shoes and stockings in walk- 209 14 Lost Lord Kelly. ing over shingle like this, or you will get your feet cut." Hardly had Corks gone than Joseph ran forward after a wave. All of a sudden he seemed to fall on his face, and then the wave went right over him. He was never seen after ! The tide was going out at the time, so his body was most likely taken out to sea. 210 THE NEW FISHING-ROD. It was a proud and happy day for Egbert Law when he got from his Uncle Simon a nice new fishing-rod. He had often wished to have such a thing; for his 211 14—2 The New Fishing-Rod. father and uncle were both great anglers, and used many a time to bring home baskets full of fresh trout for supper. Till now a crooked pin tied to a piece of stout thread had served Egbert instead of a rod, and many an hour had he spent, seated on a bank at the edge of a stream, as he threw his pin into the water. But these simple efforts had not met with any suc- cess. The most silly fish that ever swam had never been lured to Egbert's hook. " I shall bring home lots of trout now," he said to his two sisters, Sarah and little Rachel, who stood by him. " Me go with you to fish," said his youngest sister. " And I '11 go with you too, Egbert," cried Sarah. "Oh, you can go, but not Rachel ; she is too little, and can't walk fast enough," rcr 212 The New Fishing-Rod. plied Egbert, as he slung his fishing basket on his shoulder, with the air of a very busy person. " You needn't get anything else for supper, mother," he then said ; *' I shall be home in time to have the trout cooked." " Where are you going to fish ? " asked Sarah, who meant to go along with her brother, and hoped to be able to take Rachel also. When she heard that the chosen spot was the bridge at the mill, she was glad, for she knew it was not too far for the little one to walk. But Egbert, who was much too full of his own pleasure to think of other people, went off in a great hurry, and before his sisters were ready to go with him. When they at length reached him on the bridge, they waited beside him for nearly an hour; then, getting tired, they turned their faces to- wards home. On the way they met Mr. 213 The New Fishing-Rod. Kirk, a friend of their Papa, who was coming from the river with a string of trout which he had just caught. When he heard from the sisters where they had been, and what Egbert was about, he gave the trout he carried to Httle Rachel. Two hours after Egbert came home, but with- out a single fish. It .was the trout Rachel brought home that was cooked for supper, and Egbert wished he had been less boastful. 214 BBOTHEK AND SISTEE. 2IS BROTHER AND SISTER. The parents of Sandy Grey always gave him a present on his birth-day, and as a rule he left it to them to choose what it should be, and was always pleased with what they gave him. But one year, a little while before his birth-day came round, he thought the nicest thing to have would be a wheel- barrow ; for he had a little garden of his own, which he kept in order himself, and he wanted a light barrow in which to wheel mould, plants, and weeds. He had only to hint this wish to his Papa, and he took steps to procure for his son the gift that w^ould be the most welcome to him. The first use to which Sandy put his barrow was to give his little sister Jessie a ride in it. Of course Jessie took her doll with her for an airing. It was the first of many nice rides ; for Sandy was very fond of his sister, and liked to please her. ' 216 GUY'S THEFT. EHiND the house where Guy- Brace lived there was a large piece of ground ; but it was not in the least like a garden. What had once been flower- beds, and nice smooth paths winding about among them, had been made into a play- ground, and even two or three fruit-trees had been cut down to give more room for a couple of swings. In short, Guy's father kept a school for boys, and was, therefore, forced to put aside his own liking for flowers and fruit, in order to provide his pupils with space enough in which to enjoy their games and sports. But Dr. Brace had a neighbour named Crick, who was quite free to follow his 217 Guy's Theft. own tastes, and have as many flowers and as much fruit as he pleased. The end of Mr. Crick's garden was very near to the end of the play-ground ; in fact, there was but , a narrow lane be- tween them ; and Dr. Brace had more than once stopped in this lane, to admire the fine fruit-trees in Mr. Crick's garden. Guy had often done so too, as he strolled about with his father's dog Bingo at his heels. Bingo wds much fonder of the boy than it was of its own master, and the reason for this strong liking is not very hard to explain. The master of the school had to work very hard, in order that his pupils might be well taught, and he had so little time to spare for taking a walk, that Bingo very seldom went out with his master. Guy, on the other hand, was very idle, and instead, after school, of learn- 218 Guy's Theft. ing his lessons for the next day, would whistle for Bingo, and hasten off to a large pond about a mile away, where the dog would leap into the water a score of times, and bring out of it a short stick, thrown into the pond for that purpose by Guy. The boy was coming back on a sum- mer's evening from one of these trips, when his eyes fell upon a fine pear-tree, the branches of which were so laden with fruit, that they were bent down towards the ground. He stood looking at the splendid pears, and longing for a capful of them, until he heard his name called. He turned and saw two of his father's pupils, Edwin and Peter. These boys were brothers, and they came from the West Indies, where their parents lived. They had no friends in England, so they 219 Guy's Theft. did not go home at Mid-summer, as all the other boys did, but still stayed in the house of Dr. Brace. " Why, Guy, we have been looking for you," cried Edwin, the elder brother. " A boy we know is going to teach Us draughts, and I thought you would like to learn the game, so I said you w^ould go with us. He doesn't live far from here — just round in the next road." "No, I don't care about learning the game : I 've seen it played, and I think it 's too much bother," replied Guy. "Bother!" said Edwin; "why, you should see my father play a game at chess. That 's trouble, if you like. But come along, Peter, — it's no use waiting for Brace." The two brothers went away, and Guy walked up the lane, but had not gone far 220 Guy's Theft. before he began to think about the pears, and he soon made up his mind to turn back and look at them again. "After all," thought Guy, as he stared for some minutes at three or four of the largest pears, " it would not be very hard to get into that garden from the lane." The next day Guy could not get the pear-tree out of his head. An hour before dus,k he went out and bowled his hoop past the back of Mr. Crick's garden. The sight of the big pears tempted him so much, that he tried to get on to the wall ; but it was not till he had brought a form from the school-room that he was able to do what he wished. Sitting astride of the wall, he had a full view of the pear-tree ; but, as ill luck would have it, all its branches were jiist out of reach ; so he peered round, and, seeing no one, dropped from the wall into the garden. 221 GUT'S THEFT. 222 Guy's Theft. He walked round to a bough that was more thickly studded with pears than any, of the others, and then quickly filled his pockets with the fruit, putting some also into his straw hat. Hardly had he done this, than a bark from Bingo, left on the other side of the wall, caused the stealer of pears to start in alarm. But this was not all, for he heard voices in the garden a moment after, and he could hear some one say, " So he would not come with us last night, when I told him you were going to teach Peter and me how to play the game." Guy made a rush towards the wall when he heard these words ; but in doing so he trod on something, which gave a click and seized him by the right ankle, just as he was raising his foot. The upper part of his boot saved him from being much hurt ; 223 Guy's Theft. but still the teeth of the iron trap which he had trodden on bruised him, and he tore his new trousers of blue serge in getting his foot out. Not five minutes after all this had taken place, the two brothers, Edwin and Peter, passed by the pear-tree, and saw the iron trap, with a piece of blue serge sticking between its rusty teeth. A man who worked in the garden came up to the boys just then, and the trap was again set by him. By chance Edwin picked up the bit of blue serge, and kept it to tie on the tail of his kite. "There has been some one after the fruit," said the man. So thought young Crick too, as he pointed out the print of feet on the soft mould. When the two brothers got home, they 224 Guy's Theft, found Guy in the back kitchen getting his ankle bathed In hot water, for the bruise had got rather painful. " Why, Guy, how did you get that piece torn out of your trousers ? " asked Peter. " It was a dog," replied Guy, his face getting a lltde red as he told this untruth. 225 15 Guy's Theft. " Stop, just see if this bit of stuff will fit into the tear," said Edwin, taking out the piece of blue serge from his pocket. "No, I am; sure it won't," said Guy. " It seems just the same kind of serga," said a voice,, that the boys knew in a moment to be Dir. Brace's. " Where did you find it ? " Edwin told his sllory, and Guy's father looked very grave, but he did not say much more about the matter until the two brothers had goaae out of the room. Then the Doctor stooped down and fitted the piece of serge into the hole that the trap had made in the cloth. Guy soon saw that it was useless to deny his guilt, so he burst into tears, and made no further attempt to conceal what he had done. " And they were quite hard and nasty," sobbed Guy, " though they looked so nice." 226 THE BURNT COAT A POOR farm servant who had no work was walking along a country road one very- hot day, and wishing that he could meet with some one who would employ him. He had eaten nothing since the night before, for he had no money to buy food, and his only hope of getting a meal lay in the chance of some one hiring him, and paying him for his labour. 227 15—2 The Burnt Coat. At length he came to a bend in the road, which brought him in sight of a hay-stack, near which was a cart and two horses. The man who was with this cart called out, "Job, is that thee, my lad ? " And then the farm servant, who wanted to find work, nodded his head, by way of saying " yes " to this question. There was a field of corn half cut near to where the carter stood, and he pointed it out to Job, saying at the same time, that the men in the field could do with further help, and that Job had better ask the farmer if he wanted a reaper. The friendly carter then took a reaping hook out of his cart, and said he would lend it to Job, with whom, by-the-bye, he had worked in former days. Job tbanked the carter, and soon got work in the field of corn. But before using the reaping hook, 228 The Burnt Coat. which had just been lent to him, he took off an old coat of blue cloth with brass buttons, and threw it on the nearest hedge. Then he pulled off a pair of gaiters which he wore over his trousers, and left them near to his coat. Now it so chanced that while Job was cutting the corn, Hubert Dart and three other boys came along the road. They saw Job's coat and gaiters on the hedge, as they passed by on their way to have a game at cricket. When they were coming back, just before sunset, they again saw the coat and the gaiters lying in the same place. Hubert had a box of matches, and he thought it would be great fun to drop a lighted match into the open pocket of the coat. The other boys did not see this shameful act, as they were just then walk- 229 THE BUENT COAT. 230 The Burnt Coat. ing some yards in advance of Hubert; but it was seen by a woman, and she lost not a moment in running to Job, for she knew that the coat was his. When the poor fellow heard what had been done, he made haste to the hedge, and found a thick smoke rising from the pocket in which the flaming match had been put. As soon as he could smother the fire, he ran after Hubert, and holding up the coat, showed a large hole which had been burnt in it. At first Hubert began to laugh ; but when the woman said that she had seen all that he had done, and knew who his father was, he took out all the pocket money that he had, and paid for the damage done. Had Job told Hubert's father, he would have made the boy buy Job a new coat. 2.^1 SUCH A GOOD BOY. " Papa, Nurse says I have been a good boy to-day ; and you said if I was a good boy, you would take me to town some time. Will you take me on Monday?" asked Johnny Smiles, as he met his Papa at the gate, on his way home from town. " Oh, you have been a good boy, have you ? Then I should like to know who it was I heard crying this morning, be- cause he could not get jam with his bread and butter." Johnny hung his head a moment; for he knew that the crying boy his Papa spoke of, had been none other than him- self But he soon took heart, and said, " I didn't steal any sugar out of the sugar-bowl, and I stood quite still when Nurse was brushing my hair, and I let Baby play with my horse. Wasn't that ' being good. Papa ? " 232 SUCH A GOOD BOX. 233 Such a Good Boy. *You are good at blowing your own trumpet, I see, Johnny," said Mr. Smiles. "I haven't a trumpet, Papa; but I wish you would buy me one," cried Johnny, quite pleased with this new idea. "So good a boy must have a reward, that is quite clear. Well, you shall go with me to Brighton, and see what will be new to you, the sea and the ships," said Mr. Smiles, taking his little boy b}^ the hand. " Oh, when shall we go, Papa .'* " was Johnny's next question; and great was his joy, when he learned that in the course of two days he should go with his Papa to the sea-side. On reaching Brighton, he saw a num- ber of things that seemed to him very droll, such as the bathing machines, and the women with them. But most of all he liked to look at the ships that went and came over the blue sea. 234 GRAND-PAPA. LD Mr. Hale, who lived in the white-washed cottage at the end of the village, had a num- ber of grand-children, to all of whom he was very kind. He had often two -or three of them staying with him, and then they had always good fun ; for Grand-papa was not too old or grave to enjoy a game with young people. When Letty Blake was able to go out, after having had the measles, it was to Grand- papa's she was sent for change of air ; and when Philip Spence took scarlet fever, it was to Mr. Hale's cottage that all the other little Spences were sent, to be out of the way. Grand-papa never forgot the birth-days of any of his grand-children, and had 235 Grand-papa. always some nice present for each one at such times. But a day came when Mr. Hale had not so much money as he used to have ; and then he had to give cheap gifts in- stead of dear ones. There was no longer to be seen on his tea-table the very best sponge-cake that was to be bought ; but only plain home-made cake, and not too much of it. Letty Blake, who was a greedy girl, did not by any means like this change, and so made her visits to Grand-papa less fre- quent than before. " What is the use of going out to tea," she said, " if one is only to get plain cake ? " But her cousins, the Spences, still went to see their kind old. friend. They loved romping above all things, and the loss of his money had not made Grand-papa so 236 GEAND-PAPA. 237 Grand-papa. sad that he could not still take part in childish sport- He had soon worse trouble to bear than the loss of riches. For a long time he was very ill ; and then the children to whom he had been so kind when in health, thought it a dull thing to go and see him. There was only one out of the many who was grateful, and who loved Grand- papa when he was poor and ill just as well as when he had rich cake for his little guests, and was able to amuse them. This was little Susan Grant, whose father was dead, and whose mother was not able to buy her smart frocks, nor to give her nice things to eat. With her doll in her arms, she often went to see Grand-papa, and cheered with her presence his ailing hours. She was the richest of all her cousins, for she had a loving, grateful heart. 238 GEORGE AND HIS GUESTS. ,ow, THEN," cried George, when he and his friends had grown tired of romping, " I will sing you a nice song. Aunt says that it has no tune, and that, I think, is why it's so easy for me to sing it," he added; with a merry laugh. The young people round him at once ceased their noisy chatter ; and then, when he had cleared his throat, he began chanting, in a droning tone, what he called " The Blue-bottle Flies." "Three blue-bottles, three blue-bottles, three blue- bottles Sate on a mile-stone. Said th.& Jirst blue-bottle to the second blue-bottle, 'We are three blue-bottles on a mile-stone — Three blue-bottles, three blue-bottles, three blue- bottles On a mile-stone.' " Said the second blue-bottle to the third blue- bottle, ' We are three blue-bottles on a mile-stone — 239 George and his Guests. Three blue-bottles, three bJue-bottles, three blue- bottles On a mile-stone.' Said the third blue-bottle to the first blue-bottle, ' We are three blue-bottles on a ' " " Oh, come, stop that ! " cried Duncan, a boy of eight years. " / know that song too, and you might go on singing it till bed-time without getting any further." George thrust his tongue into his cheek, and made such a lump appear there, that little Eva, who just then came into the room, cried, " Oo has got toffee ; oo has some in oos mous. Give Eva some." " No, it isn't toffee I have in my mouth ; it 's the tooth-ache, Eva," said George. " I thought you were going to sing some- thing nice just now," said the oldest boy of the party. "Well, as none of you seem to like what I have sung, I will give you * The Ten Little Niggers.'" 240 George and his Guests " Ten Little Nigger Boys went out to dine ; One choked his little self, and then there were Nine. " Nine Little Nigger Boys sat up very late; One over-slept himself, and then there were Eight. George and his Guests. " Eight Little Nigger Boys travelling in Devon ; One said he'd stay there, and then therewere Seven. " Seven Little Nigger Boys chopping up sticks ; One chopped himself in halves, and then there were Six. GeorQe and his Guests. " Six Little Nigger Boys playing with a Hive ; A Bumble-Bee stung one, and then there were Five. " Five Little Nigger Boys going by a door ; One got in Chancery, and then there were Four. 243 16—2 George and his Guests. " Four Little Nigger Boys going out to Sea ; A Red Herring swallowed one, and then there were Three. " Three Little Nigger Boys walking in the 'Zoo'"; The big Bear hugged one, and then there were Two. 244 George and his Guests. " Two Little Nigger Boys sitting in the Sun ; One got frizzled up, and then there was One. " One Little Nigger Boy, having no more fun, Went and got married, and then there were None." '>-- J il 'iQii i.'lM J '%\ yy:'j . iJ|j!|,||j|][:N| 245 MALCOLM'S ERROR. ?HE weather had been very hot for nearly a week, when Mal- colm went into the drawing- room, where his father, Mr. Cairn, was sitting at an open window, and threw himself upon a sofa, near to which his younger brother Walter was standing. " I wish we could get some bathing about here, Wally," "^^ said Malcolm, taking up a book and trying to fan himself with it. "Since we have come to live in this place, there has been no chance of a dip." Mr. Cairn raised his eyes from, the paper that he was reading, and said, "Ah, true. I shall write to that man at Ply- mouth again, and tell him I must have no more delay in making the bath-room." 246 Malcolm! s Error. " I wish we were going to have one big enough to swim in," said Malcolm, after a few moments of silence. " I shall forget how to swim if we remain here long." " I wish I knew how to swim," said Wally, who was three years younger than his brother. Mr. Cairn had put down his paper, and was about to leave the room, but he stopped when he heard Malcolm's remark, and said, " I don't like to hear boys grum- bling when they are well off. You can't expect to have the sea at the bottom of the street, as was the case in the town where you were born." " But there 's no sea at all here," replied Malcolm. " Of course there is not," said Mr. Cairn. "It would amaze me ver}^ much if there were, for we are just a hundred miles from the coast." 247 Malcolm's Error. "Well," said Malcolm, when his father had left the room, "what do you say, Wally, to getting up early in the morning and going to bathe ? " " But where can we go ? " asked Wally. " Why, I heard the new coachman say that there was a nice river about three miles from here, at a place called Fish-gate." Walter agreed to go with his brother, but said that he would ask leave from his Papa before he went. When Malcolm heard this, he put his arm round the little boy's neck, and begged him not to say a word to either of their parents as to what they were about to do. " Why not ? " asked Wally. " Because they might not let you go, as you can't swim," replied Malcolm. "You can tell them when we come back, if you like," he added. 248 Malcolm's Error. Poor Wally gave his consent to what his brother asked, for he was very fond of Malcolm, and he knew that Malcolm loved him very dearly also. Early in the morning, with the bright sun shining full in their faces, they set off along the straight road leading to the vil- lage, close by which they were going to bathe. 249 Malcolm's Error. At last they came to a deep stream^ and the two boys, when they had found a shallow place, began to undress. " You must take care not to get into deep water," said Malcolm ; and then he went in, and kept near the bank till Wally got into the water also. But when Mal- colm went a little farther away from the bank, a strong under-current carried him, in spite of all his efforts, towards a water- mill. He had a hard struggle to save his own life, and when he looked round, Wally's hands were all of the boy that could be seen above the water. Malcolm's cries brought a couple of plough-men from a field hard by ; but they were too late to save Wally. Malcolm has now grown to be a young man; but he has never ceased to sorrow for the brother he led astray. 2SO PEASANT LIFE. The parents of Grace and Janet Barton were poor people who worked hard all day, and had only the very plainest fare. The little girls had not even one doll between 2SI Peasant Life. them, and they had no other toys; "but when they had time to play, they tied a string round an old shawl, and called that a doll. When very little, they used to play at helping their mother to wash the clothes and to sweep the hearth ; but the time came too soon when they had to do that in earnest, and found no fun in it. At four years old, Janet, liked nothing better than to roll up her little sleeves above the elbow, put on an apron of her mothers, and bury her plump arms in a tubful of soap-suds. She then thought she was doing a great deal of work, and, indeed, she was not useless ; for the .heart of the busy mother was cheered by the blithe talk and merry ways of her child, and her labour was one-half lighter for the little one's presence. ^ But when she was six, a basin of water 252 Peasant Life. was set upon a stool for Janet, and she had to wash her father's socks till her back ached, and till the skin was, in some places, nearly rubbed off her fingers. But the children of the poor, at least those who live in the country, have their own joys, and the little Bartons had a pretty home. If they had not dolls and other toys, they had whole fields of daisies, enough, indeed, to make daisy-chains that would reach from London to New York. The fields, of course, were not theirs ; but they had leave to gather the daisies that grew in them. The parents of these little girls were good people, who taught their children to love what is right and hate that which is wrong; and the little ones were none the less happy for knowing that. John Barton, their father, was but a plough-man, it is 253 Peasant Life. true, and did not mix among polite people; but he had learned good manners from reading the Bible, and no one ever heard him use a bad word, or knew him do a base thing. When his children were quite young, they were taught to look up with awe and love to the Great Being who made them. On Sundays they all went to church, except, indeed, on such days as were too wet for the little ones. It was very pleasant on a fine spring morning, when the trees were bursting into leaf, to walk along the country road to church : Janet having one of her fathers hands in hers, and Grace the other. Besides these two girls, there was a boy called Jamie, He went each day to a farm, to herd cattle. At night, before the father and brother came home, the cottage hearth was always swept, and then the mother put the porridge and milk on the table for supper. 2S4 THE ENGINE-DRIVERS DA UGHTER. The house in which Rose Rivers lived was not a large one, and the upper part of it was let off to a shoe -maker and his wife, so you will soon guess that the father of the little girl was not very rich. But there was always plenty of food for Rose's mother and herself; for Ned Rivers, as he was called among his friends, had never lost a day's work during the last twenty years, and his wages, with care, were just enough to keep his wife and child in some degree of comfort. It is true that he could not manage to save any money, and the thought of that at times made him sad when he looked at those he loved ; but he had something to console him when he called to mind that he was an old member of the Grand Railway Band of Brothers, who would allow him 255 The Engine-Driver's Daughter. a sum of money weekly, in case he fell sick, or got hurt on the railway. You may wonder why he should be thought to run any risk of getting bruised or wounded on a railway line ; but when I tell you that Ned Rivers was the engine-driver of a luggage train, you will be quite ready to believe that he was in much more danger of being hurt, and even killed, than those people who sit in the train as it rushes along so fast. Then, again, you must not forget that luggage trains mostly travel in the nighty and that makes the risk greater than by day; for the engine-driver, when it is dark, can only see the lamps which are put up as signals to him. Sometimes it happens that people forget to put up these lights, and then the engine and its train dashes against waggons, trucks, or some- 256 THE ENGINE-DEIVEE'S DATJG-HTEE. 257 ir The Engine-Driver's Daughter. thing else, and the driver is either maimed or killed. Just before Christmas, wjien the snow was lying on the ground, Rose went out a full hour before her father had said that he would be home, in the hope of seeing his train and himself pass on the way to the station, about a mile or so distant. It would be four o'clock when he would pass, so there would be light enough for him to see her, and then how happy she would be when he waved his hand to her, in the way that ' he had so often done before ! Meantime she played at making snow- balls, and throwing them at the gate through which she had come. At length a church clock struck five, but still Ned Rivers had not come in sight. Then it grew quickly dark, and a snow-storm came on, so Rose went home ; but she watched .258 The Engine-Driver's Daughter. for him at the cottage window, for her mother was getting into a state of great alarm at the long absence of her loved husband, and the little girl wished to be the first to call out that she saw her father coming. , At last, when past bed-time, Rose saw her father coming, and with a cry of joy ran out to meet him. The snow had kept back his train, but he was unhurt. 259 17—3 CARELESS BRIAN. Within a few miles of Dublin — the chief city, as most of you know, of Ireland — there lived, a great many years ago, a boy named Brian. His father, Mike Murphey as he was called, had a gang of men under his orders, and they were busy at that time in making a deep cutting in the ground, not very far from Brian's home. This cutting was for the purpose of letting the trains pass through ; for there was no rail- way from Dublin to Wexford in those days. When the boy's father was going to bed one night — he was always in his sleeping-room soon after eight each*evening — he called Brian, who was in an out- house playing with a dog which he had, and said, " Did you grease them there boots that I told you about ^" " Indeed I did not," replied Brian. 260 CAEELESS BEIA]J. 261 Careless Brian. " Faix, I forgot all about 'em ; but I '11 do 'em to-night." *'Ah, go 'long, you're a lazy young rascal," said the father, " and, to make you more careful next time I tell you to do a thing, you must bring them to me early in the morning. We have got to work where there is a good drop of water, and as I '11 be standing about in it a good deal, I must have them boots." So saying, Mike Murphey put down the short pipe which he had been smoking, and went to bed. Next morning when Brian got up, though it was still early, his father had been gone to his work for more than two hours. But Brian was in no hurry to start, for he bethought him that he would take his fishing-rod and basket — a present from his father — and try to catch a few fish on bis way back. 263 Careless Brian. He took his dog with him and set out ; but had not got a mile on his way when he dropped one of the boots, and in pick- ing it up again, he found that he had been so careless as to forget to grease the boots. So he had to turn back, and by the time he had set out again, it had begun to rain fast. When he reached where his father and the men, were at work, the rain had quite ceased to fall. "So you have come at last! but my feet have been as wet as a sponge, Brinie, for an hour past," said Mike Murphey, in an angry' tone. " I suppose you've not brought me a pair of dry stockings, now the sun 's out ? " " No," replied Brian, patting the head of his dog, and not seeming to care about his father's wet state. " Then it 's little use there 'd be in put- 263 Careless Brian. ting them big boots on now. What kept you so long ? " " I forgot to grease the boots last night, and I forgot to grease them when I got up this morning ; so I had to turn back when I got to Pat Casey's cottage, and — " " Well, I '11 forget too, my fine fellow," said the father, " and I '11 begin with you. I '11 forget to work for you, and to pay for what you eat, and then I '11 see how you like that, my boy." Some time after Brian had left, his father, as the day was very cold, was obliged to take a spade and dig for an hour, in order to warm himself. But when he got home that night, he did not feel well, and the next day he had a bad cough, through getting wet feet. Mike went to the railway cutting, and was out till the evening, though the weather was 264 Careless Brian. very rainy. But in a day or two poor Mike became very ill, and then he did indeed forget to go to work, and to pay for Brian's food, for a fever which seized him made him forget all things. Brian was very contrite for his share in bringing about his father's illness, and tried to make amends by watching by the bed-side of the sick man. In time Mike got quite well, and then it was a joyful sight to the boy, when he saw his father shoulder his spade, and go to seek work again. THE FIRST DAY AT SCHOOL. Great was the joy of little Alfy Cox, when he learned that he was to begin to go to school. His elder 266 The First Day at School. brothers told him he would soon find that school was not so nice as he thought, that it was much better to be able to play all day, than to be shut up for a number of hours in a school-room. But this was not what his father said. He told his little son it was a fine thing to go to school, and that he hoped he would like learning, not only while he was a boy, but all his life long. Alfy thought as little about his father's words as he did about those of his bro- thers. He was eager to have done with childish days and to begin to be a big boy. The first step towards that end was, he thought, to go to school. So on the morning when he was first to mix with other children, and to learn lessons in a public place, he had a new slate hung round his neck, and a long piece of pencil, to which his father had put a fine point, 267 The First Day at School. placed in his hand. Then, under the care of an elder brother, he walked to a school for young children, in a street a little way from his father's house. When Alfy stepped into the school- room, and saw a crowd of young faces, and a strange lady among them, he felt a little bashful. A great many pairs of eyes were turned towards him, and that made him feel that he was a foolish little boy, not fit to be seen by so many people at once. When the lady who taught the school spoke to him, his replies were in a low voice, and his manner was very shy ; but she liked him none the worse for that. Taking his slate from the new pupil, the teacher ruled lines upon it, and wrote the letter O upon one of the lines. Then she told Alfy to sit down on the form, and try to copy the O she had made. For nearly 268 The First Day at School. an hour he sat as quiet as a mouse, or rather as a cat when it is watching for a mouse, only looking shyly now and then at the little boys and girls that sat on each side of him. At his left sat a young lady of five, making figures on her slate. To Alfy's surprise, she leant towards him and said, " We are going to have apple pudding for dinner to-day." Then the teacher called Alfy to her side, and gave him a lesson in the first reading-book. After that she showed him a card, upon which there was a picture of Christ blessing little children, and made him spell out the words for himself Then he went back to his seat, and the young lady of five again bent towards him ; this time to ask what he was going to have for dinner. 269 AT THE FARM. " Mamma, the cart is at the door. Come, Sophy ; come, Hugh," cried Phemie, one bright day in July, as she stood at the parlour window, looking for the cart that was to take them all to Greenlees Farm. She had little need to bid Hugh ' 270 At tJic Farm. come, for before she had done speaking he was at the door holding the horse. Then httle Sophy ran out to the step, and with her the dog Terry, who seemed to know that the children were in great spirits, and wagged his tail and frisked about, showing that he shared their joy. When they all got into the cart — the three children with their mother, Mrs, Rose — ^what fun they had placing them- selves on the straw, Terry always being in the midst. They were not yet quite seated to their minds, when Jack, the farm lad who drove, took the reins in his hand, and, with a light touch of the whip, made the horse set off at a trot. Phemie, who had been standing up in the cart, fell down with the jolt ; but, not being hurt, she only laughed. Hugh and Sophy laughed too, and Terry barked. 271 At the Farm, When they had gone about a mile, they came to a steep hill ; so to make the bur- den light for the horse, they all got out of the cart and walked up the hill. That was just what the children liked ; for there were some wild roses growing by the way- side there, and they were glad to be able to pluck them. Greenlees Farm-house was quite a small one, with a roof of thatch instead of slate. The kitchen of this house had no floor except an earthen one; but that was one of the things that gave a charm to the place, in the eyes of Phemie and Hugh. Floors of stone and wood they were always seeing ; but to sit in a kitchen with one's feet, on the bare ground was quite a new thing to them. But this earthen floor, it must be borne in mind, was not soft like the soil of a garden, nor wet like a road: 272 At the Farm. it was quite dry and hard, its chief fault being that it was not even. Phemie said that when the farmer's wife placed the table for dinner, she took care not to let any of its four feet go into a hole that there was in the floor. There was one other thing about this kitchen that seemed odd, and rather nice to Hugh and Phemie, that was that it had no ceiling, and the rafters could be seen. Round about the farm-house the scene was very pretty. When they had taken their dinner of curds and cream, with oat- cake and butter, the three children went out to a field, in which there were a number of sheep grazing. Here they spent some happy hours, Hugh and Phemie in pluck- ing wild flowers for their mother, and little Sophy in trying to make friends with the sheep and their lambs. 273 18 OLD ABEL BLAIR. Abel Blair was a very old and very poor , man when first I heard of him. At one time he had a wife and three sons; but they had all died save the youngest son, and he had been heard of only once since he went to New Zealand, ten years before the time of which I am about to speak. Abel, through ill luck and old age, had been forced to give up the little farm where he had lived all his life, and his father before him. The old man then came to London, and sometimes got a day's work or tw6 at driving a cart filled with cabbages, fruit, or other garden produce, to Covent Garden Market. But he grew almost too old even for that kind of work, and he began to feel despair in his heart — alone and friendless as he was. Then Abel would fall on his knees, and 274 Old Abel Blair. pray that he might be kept from the fate of being a beggar in his old age. And when he had so prayed, he felt that he was wrong in thinking himself with- out a friend; so he would become more cheerful, and comfort himself still further by reading chapters in his well-worn Bible. He was standing in Covent Garden one morning, waiting for his cart horses to finish their oats, before taking them back to Hornsey, when some one plucked the sleeve of his frock. Abel turned and saw the post-master of his native place. "Why, Abel," he said, "where have you been hiding yourself? There have been two letters for you lying at our post- office for a long time past — months, I am sure. I have kept them in the hope that you would return some day, for there is 27s 18 — 2 Old Abel Blair. the New Zealand post-mark on them, and I knew you had a son out there." Abel Blair tried to speak, but the words died avv'ay in his throat, so much was he moved by this joyful piece of news. Old Abel Blair. " From my son ? " he said at last, and he held out his shaking hand, as if to receive the letters. " I am sure they are," said the post- master; "but of course I have not got them with me. Tell me where you live, and I will send them to you." . Abel Blair gave his address, and soon after the two men parted. Some days went by before the letters came to Abel, and then a third letter came with the others ; but Abel did not notice that, though it was in the same hand-writing, the post-mark was not that of New Zealand. Henry, his son, had made a good deal of money by keeping a sheep-farm at Tai Tapu, and was coming home very soon. Such were the contents of two of the letters; but the third said that Abel was to come to his native place at once, and go to 277 Old Abel Blair. the house were he had so long lived, for that his son had bought it and the farm. Abel took the train part of the way; but he was obliged to walk nine miles, as he had not money enough to ride all the way. It was almost dark when he came to the old stone bridge over the river, where he had so often fished when he was a little boy. There was no fear of his missing his way now, let the darkness be ever so great, he thought, for he knew every inch of the road. But the snow began to fall, and had he not come in sight of a light streaming from a farm-house window, he might have lost his way. As he drew nearer to the friendly beacon shining over the snow, he soon saw his old dwelling. The door was thrown open as he passed through the gate, and he heard a voice cry, 278 Old Abel Blair. " Father, is that you ?" A moment after he felt himself clasped round the neck by Henry, who said, '' I thought I would give you a pleasant surprise." 279 SIR JAMES GOLDB URN'S PHYSIC. No sooner was Edwin Goldburn told that his rich old uncle had come back from the East Indies, than he was eager to learn what the presents were, which he felt sure his late father's brother had brought. The boy's Mamma had said, months before Sir James Goldburn reached England, that there was no reason to doubt that Edwin would be much petted by his uncle ; and how could a boy, thought Edwin, be petted at the outset, save by making him a number of nice presents ? Sir James had never been wedded, and he had no other nephew than Edwin. Mrs. Goldburn had, therefore, pointed out to her son that he had a right to expect, sooner or later, a great deal of money from the worthy knight. But in order that 280 Sir James Goldburn's Physic. Edwin might run no risk of losing his uncle's favour, he had been begged by his Mamma to be very polite to Sir James, and to be ready to oblige him in all things. Edwin had been willing enough to promise to do all this, and his Mamma was quite content to take his word, though, had she called to mind her son's conduct towards herself, she might well have doubted the value of a pledge given by Edwin. In one respect he was not unlike a boy that I have before spoken of in this book ; but the nephew of Sir James had less excuse for his careless and even selfish conduct, than one who had been allowed to grow up without any training as to what his duty is to those around him. Mrs. Goldburn and her mother lived in a small but very snug house, in a narrow street close to St. James' Palace, and when 281 Sir James Goldburn's Physic. Edwin's uncle wrote from Portsmouth to say he was coming to London, as soon as he had spent two or three days with his friend, Captain Latham, it w^as but the proper course to invite the old knight to stay with them for a time. The night that Sir James reached Mrs. Goldburn's house, he said, when dinner was over, " I greatly fear that I am 'about to have an attack from an old foe of mine. Certain twinges in my right foot tell me that I am going to have a fit of«(the gout." " I hope it may turn out to be a mistake on your part," said Mrs. Goldburn. " Ah, no," he replied ; " I know the symptoms too well, so I must beg of you to excuse me if I retire to bed, and get you to send for the nearest doctor without a moment's delay." " Run, Edwin, and bring our own doctor 28;? Sir yames Goldburn's Physic. from Savile Row," said Mrs. Goldburn's mother. Edwin went out into the hall, but while Sir James was getting up from the table, he saw his nephew slink back into the room and whisper to Mrs. Goldburn. " Well, then, you must take a cab if it is raining hard," said that lady, as she put her hand into her pocket and gave Edwin some money. But Sir James had not been in his bed-room for ten minutes, when Edwin returned to say that he could not get a cab, as all those that passed had people in them. Mrs. Goldburn went to the door and looked out. There was, it is true, a drizzle, but it was not, as Edwin had said, raining hard. So, to save further delay, she sent the parlour-maid, a middle-aged woman with a very cross-looking face, which 283 Sir yames Goldbtcrn's Physic. looked none the less cross for being asked to go out into the wet. Still, she went at once, and without a word of grumbling — a proof that Janet was better at heart than her looks would have led you to suppose. When the doctor had seen Sir James, he ordered him to take a dose of a certain kind of physic every three hours, and a bottle of it was got from the druggist round the corner. Next Edwin was told to go and sit by his uncle's bed-side for a time ; but he was too busy looking at the luggage, which had come all the way from Bombay, to give any heed to this request, though made both by his Mamma and her mother. Towards night Janet got the boy to go to the room of Sir James. " Are you better ? " asked Edwin, going up to the foot of the bed. 284 Sir yames Goldburtis Physic. " Not yet," replied Sir James, pulling his night-cap further on to his head ; "I shall be worse before I am better. Fill me a wine-glass out of that bottle on the table by the bed." " How much ? " asked Edwin, who was pulling at his uncle's braces, which were lying over the back of a chair. "A wine-glass full," replied Sir James sharply, and then he closed his eyes, and moaned slightly, as though in great pain. Edwin looked round, and took a bottle which was standing on the mantel-piece, from which he poured a glass-full of the liquid, and gave it to his uncle. As Sir James was drinking it, Mrs. Goldburn came into the room with Janet, who had just been to bring something else from the druggist. Sir James gave back the glass, wiped his moustache, smacked his lips in 285 SIE JAMES GOLDBURN'S PHYSIC. 286 Sir Jafnes Goldburn's Physic. a doubtful manner, and then made a fright- ful face. " Murder ! " he cried ; "I have been given poison." Mrs. Goldburn screamed and clasped her hands. Janet drew herself up stiffly^ and stared at the knight. As to Edwin, he began to laugh at the comic face of his uncle, who did look rather funny in his night-cap at that moment, part of which had got pushed down to the lid of his left eye. " You young rascal!" gasped Sir James, " what have you given me ? " ''The physic you asked for," replied Edwin. *' But what bottle did you take it from. Master Edwin ? " asked Janet. The boy was silent for a moment while he looked round him. " Why, from that 287 Sir y antes Goldburn's Physic. , bottle on the mantel-piece," he said at last. "Why, that's my mother's hair-wash," cried Mrs. Goldburn. ^* I told him the bottle on the table," groaned Sir James. " I never heard you," said Edwin. " You never hear anything that you are told to do," said Mrs. Goldburn, sinking into a chair. " Why, uncle, look here, you have spilt some of it on the sheet, so you didn't drink it all," said Edwin. " Nonsense," cried Sir James in a rage ; " only a few drops fell. Tell me, some one, is the hair-wash poison ? " " I don't know," sobbed Mrs. Goldburn. " I am sure, mum, that hair-dye can't be good for his stummick," said the parlour- maid in a half-whisper to her mistress. 288 Sir yames Goldburn's Physic. " Good for my stomach ! " shouted Sir James, who only heard part of what Janet said. "How dare you say that ? Send for a doctor." The doctor came, and gave something to Sir James to make him sick, after which the aihng man was none the worse for Edwin's mistake. But the careless boy got no presents from abroad ; even a large jar of honey, which a friend from Greece had given to Sir James, was kept closed for months. 289 19 MAUDS PARTY. " I SHALL be away most of the day," said Mrs. Colvile to her little daughter, one cold morning, " so if you like to invite two or three of your young friends to an early tea, you may J)k Maud's Party. do so, for you might feel a bit lonely if you had no one with you for so many hours'. As to your father, he won't be home till late, as he is going to work over-time to finish a door for Mr, Parkes, the miller." " Oh, I '11 be sure to come," said Maud ; " but how many should I .invite, mother, and what am I to give them with the tea?" " Give them! why, there's a nice currant loaf that I baked last night ; give 'em some of* that. And, how many? Well, ask Lottie and Bella and Martha. Then you might have Sally and Susan Jones. That will make five, quite as many as you can manage, I think. But you must tell them, Maud, that you have to go out at six, and when you leave, take care to lock the door and put the key in your pocket, for there 's a many tramps going about the 291 19 —2 Maud's Party. country to see what they can steal. Oh, dear, it 's so cold, that I am afraid there '11 be snow before I get away." Mrs. Colvile s fears about a fall of snow were not without reason ; for that very night the ground became white with it, and even the next morning, when she got ready to set out, the snow had not quite ceased. As soon as she had gone, and Maud had watched her mother with loving eyes till she was out of sight, the little girl put on her bonnet, and her jacket trimmed with white fur, in order to run round to the neighbours' houses where her young friends lived. But she took care first to lock the door and take the key with her, as her mother had told her to do, when- ever it became needful to go out. All the little girls came at half-past two o'clock, which was as soon as Maud could 292 Maud's Party. get the room tidy for them, after putting away the dinner things. They played at one game after another until four o'clock, and then Maud, who had the kettle ready filled, made the tea, and cut off a number of thick slices of the currant loaf These slices were soon eaten, and then Maud had the great delight of cutting off more of them for her guests. They passed a very pleasant time, and the kitchen clock, all too soon for them, struck five. Then the tea things were put away, and they began to romp. At last Bella said she could teach them a new game, and she began at once to do so. They all liked it very much, and began to play it ; but just then Maud looked at the clock, and saw that its hands pointed to five minutes to six. " You must all go now," cried Maud. 293 Maud's Party. " I told you that I had to meet my mother." " Oh, let us finish the game," pleaded 'one after the other of the little guests. " No," replied Maud, stoutly, " it s get- ting dark, and I think the snow is coming on again ; I saw some fall on the window pane just now. Besides, mother said I was to start to meet her at six." So the girls put on their bonnets in haste and went away. Then Maud quickly lit the lantern and went out, taking care to lock the door after her. She walked on for a mile, and asked a wood-cutter that she at length came to, if he had seen a woman with a striped shawl go by ; but the man said that nobody had passed by at all for the last half-hour. Then Maud stood at a gate which she came to, not sure whether to go on or to 294 Maud's Party. return ; for her mother had told her that she would meet her ere the girl got to that gate. At last Maud, after waiting there some time, went on for another half-mile, and as she turned a bend in the road, she saw a figure sitting on a heap of stones. "Is that you, Maud?" cried a voice that the little girl knew was her mother's. Maud ran forward full of joy, and said, " Yes ; but why are you sitting there in the cold ? Are you very tired, mother ? " "No, my dear, but I have sprained my ankle and can't walk a step. You must hurry to the mill across yonder, and tell your father where I am. I am so glad you have come, love, for I had begun to fear that I should have to sit here till I was frozen to death. Indeed, for the last ten minutes it 's taken me all my time to 295 Maud's Party. keep awake. If I had fallen asleep there would have been an end of me ; for I Ve heard many people say that when it's as cold as it is to-night, and you fall asleep out of doors, you never wake at all." "Oh, mother," said Maud, "are you sure you can keep awake while I go to the mill ? " " I '11 try, child, anyhow," replied Mrs. Colvile. "You can get back in twenty minutes, if you and your father make haste. Indeed sooner, per'aps, as you will likely have _ the spring cart to come m. Maud made all the haste she could to the miller's, and only slipped down once on her way, but she fell with such force that the lantern flew out of her hand, and the candle in it went out. When her father heard of the mishap, 296 Maud's Party. lie threw down his saw and ran to the miller. Five minutes after they all set out to rescue Mrs. Colvile, who was taken home without delay. The next day, when Maud went to church, the snow was all gone, and the weather was v/arm. 297 HE lion is sometimes called the king of all beasts, perhaps under the belief that he is the strongest as well as the most noble-looking brute of all those that roam the far-off 298 Lions. forests in a savage state. I say far-off forests, because there are no lions in Eng- land, nor in any country near it, save those in dens. But the lion is not the strongest of all savage beasts, though, like the eagle, he has a right royal look. The tiger of Bengal has most likely quite as much power in his body, in his jaws, and in his limbs, as a lion. There is a beast, too, with a long trunk, that is more than a match either for a lion or a tiger in strength. When lions fight, it is often because one beast wishes to take the food away from the other. Men have often been known to quarrel about much the same thing, so we must not judge the lion too harshly when he fights on this account. 299 CAUGHT BY THE TIDE. As THE day was a fine and warm one, ^^^^^^^^ Clara, if they would come with him to the 300 Caught by the Tide. " I am going to try the new net that Papa bought me last week. This is the first day there has been a chance of taking it out with me since I got it ; the weather has been so stormy and wet. And, Clara," Frank went on, turning to his younger sister, " I know there are shrimps about the rocks. Wouldn't you like to have some live shrimps, Clara ? " " Yes ; and Cla will eat zem for tea," said the, little girl, who, was only four years old. " But Cla must first get them boiled," said Frank, laughing. " r have a basket that will just do to put them in," was Edith's remark, as she went to get Clara's hat and jacket, and to put on her own. The little folk were soon ready, and away they went in high spirits to the beach, 301 Caught by the Tide. at one end of which were low-lying rocks, over which the tide came at high water. As Frank thought that he would be more likely to find shrimps in the pools about the rocks than elsewhere, he went thither with his two sisters. The boy took off his boots and stock- ings, in order to avoid wetting them, and turned up his trousers to the knee. Then he searched in the pools, but he caught no shrimps ; and even when he went down to the edge of the rocks, where the rising tide came to them, he only caught one shrimp, which he turned out of his net into the hands of Clara, who was so much afraid of a thing that was quite unlike a boiled shrimp in colour, that she screamed when she saw it twisting about. But Frank grew tired of meeting with so little success in fishing, and he went with 302 Caught by the Tide. his sisters to the sands. Here he waded to his knees in the calm sea, and pHed his net right and left, while Edith and Clara stood at the water's edge looking on. Frank caught more shrimps here than he could ever have done at the rocks ; and the two girls were so busy putting them into the basket and talking to Frank, that they only took notice of the sea as it slowly but surely came onwards to their feet, driv- ing them farther back towards the houses round the bay. At last it got near dinner-time, so Frank put his net over his shoulder, and looked round to see where his sisters were just then. They had been standing where a current of water had drifted the sand into a little patch much higher than the beach just behind them. In fact, there was now water round the two children, to pass 303 Caught by the Tide. through which, on their way to land, would' take Clara up to her waist. Frank saw some men in, the distance, and shouted to them, but they were too far off to hear him. He could have waded through the water to them, but he could not make up his mind to forsake his sisters for 'a moment, even to bring them aid. At length he hit upon the wisest course — ^for each moment lost made the danger greater — and took his little sister Clara ia his arms, telling Edith to follow him and cling to his jacket. In this way they all got home in safety. Frank had told his Mamma all about the danger they had been in, and had eaten his dinner, before he thought of the net. " Did you bring my net with you } " he asked of Edith. 304 Caught by the Tide. "Oh, no, I was too much afraid that Clara would be drowned, to notice it." "Well, I threw it down at your feet just before I took Clara in my arms," said Frank, in a tone of regret. " At any rate, you brought the basket with the shrimps, Edith, didn't you ?" * "No, indeed, Frank, I forgot all about that too," said Edith, kissing him. 30s 20 WILLIE AND ANNIE. Just before bed-time, the children at Longtree Hall came into the room where Dr. Graham and his wife were, in order to bid them good night. "Well, Willie, what did you think of the beasts and birds at the Gardens to- day ? " asked the doctor. " Oh, papa," replied the boy in an eager way, " I saw a bird, and, oh, it was so big ! There is nothing in all the world that has a neck so long." " What name does it bear, did you find out that, Willie ? " was the doctor's next question, as he pushed up the stubborn hair from the forehead of his son, and looked in his face fondly. "A man there said it was an ostrich, and then Nurse told me that Mamma had one of its feathers in her head when she went to the Queen's drawing-room last year." "In her hair, not in her head, my boy. You would not like to have a hole made 306 /-:::- f THE OSTEICH. 307 20 — 2 Willie and Annie. in your head, Mamma, and put an ostrich feather into it, would you ? " asked the doctor, smiling. "No indeed," repFied Mrs. Graham, her brown eyes dancing with humour ; " not even if so famous a doctor as you were to offer to get a feather into my thick head." "And the man told us," said Willie, taking his father's hand and pulling it to attract his notice, " that men away abroad sometimes ride on the back of an ostrich, and that it can run so fast that no one can catch it." "Did he tell you, also, that it is a very silly bird ? " asked the doctor. "No, he never said a word about that," replied Willie, gravely. " Perhaps he forgot it." "Well, I have heard that when the ostrich has been chased, it has been known to bury its head in a heap of sand, in the belief that no one can then see its body. 308 >' THE EAGLE. 309 Willie and Annie. What a cunning fellow he must be, eh, Willie ? " said the doctor, with a sly look at his wife. " There are a good many people in this world like the ostrich," was the response of Mrs. Graham. " But we must not be like him, must we, Willie ? " said Dr. Graham. " I don't know ; but I think I should like to be able to run away as fast as an ostrich," replied Willie. " Upon my word, this is not a very cheering statement to come from a boy that I intend to be a soldier," said the doctor, laughing. " I had rather be an eagle than an ostrich," said Annie, who was standing by her mother. "Why so?" asked Mrs. Graham. " Because I should like to be able to fly up to the moon," was the little girl's reply. " I never heard of an eagle flying to the 310 GIEAFFES. 3" Willie and Annie. moon, my child, nor of any other thing getting so far. But you would be able to fly up to the top of those high rocks you were looking at the other day. Indeed, that is just the kind of place that an eagle would select to build her nest in, and to keep the eaglets — her little ones." "Are there very little eagles?" asked Annie. "Yes, and they are fed by their mother till they are old enough and strong enough to provide for their own wants," said her father. " How far could an ostrich reach with its long neck ? " asked Willie. "That depends upon the size of the bird; but you were wrong in thinking that there is nothing which has so long a neck. I have seen a couple, with much longer necks, in the Jardin des Plantes, at Paris. The French call them giraffes. Some of these beasts could stand outside and look in at your bed-room window on the second floor." 312 CHRISTMA S- TIME. About a fortnight before Christmas, as Gerald Stanley and his sister Meg were on their way to the church that their parents went to each Sunday, he said to his father, "Do you think that uncle will preach 313 Christmas- Time. this morning, Papa, or will it be the curate ? " Mr. Stanley looked at his son in some surprise, and asked, " Why do you wish to know ? Surely it, cannot matter much to you, at your age." Gerald hung down his head, and began to kick at the little snow-drifts which they were passing, but he made no reply. " Won't you give me an answer, Gerald ? do you prefer the preaching of your uncle to that of the curate, Mr. Smith? Is that what you mean ? " " No, it isn't that," replied Gerald. " I like to hear Mr. Smith." "What ! better than to hear your uncle ? " " Yes." " May I ask why ? " " Because uncle preaches twice as long as Mr. Smith, and it 's very cold to-day." 314 Christmas- Time. *' I am glad to find that it is the effect of the cold rather than the effect of the sermon that you dread," said Mr. Stanley, as his face cleared. He was very proud of his elder brother, Sir Philip, arid would have been sorry even had one so young- as Gerald found fault with the Rector's preaching. " I thought the church was to be heated in a proper manner this winter," said Lady Mary, Gerald's mother. " So it was to have been, my dear," re- plied Mr. Stanley; "but the people in the parish have been very slow in putting down their money for the purpose." " It would not cost much, and I think that you and Sir Philip had better find the money between you, rather than keep me and the children freezing in weather like this." 31S Christmas- Time. They had got to the church porch by this time, and as the organ was already peaHng, they all went in without further words. Mr. Stanley lived in a fine old house, of. great size, which stood in the town, about a mile and a half from his brother's church. There was a handsome place of worship within a few hundred yards of Mr. Stanleys dwelling, but he thought it his duty to go to the Rector's church. When Sunday came round again, the weather was as cold as ever, and the snow lay still deeper on the ground. " I shall not go to church to-day," said Gerald, in some glee, to his sister. " Mamma said last Sunday that we ought not to be kept freezing in a pew when the weather is like this." "/wasn't cold last Sunday," said Meg, 316 Christmas- Time "and I intend to go to church, if Papa goes." " Not cold !" said Gerald, with a sneer. " That 's because you are so well taken care of. I haven't got thick furs and things like you." Meg laughed, and said that his over- coat was quite as warm as her seal-skin jacket. But Gerald went to his Mamma, and begged that he might not be forced to go to church that day, as he had felt so cold last Sunday. His request was granted, and he thought it a very pleasant thing to see both his parents and Meg going through the snow, while he stopped at home by the fire. The next day was Christmas Eve, and great was the bustle in the kitchen of Mr. Stanley's house. At eleven in the 317 Christmas- Time. morning, the chief cook, with two other servants walking behind her, bore a large bowl to the door of the dining-room. The footman had taken a message from the kitchen to the lady of the house half an hour before, so the cook's com.ing caused no surprise. In the bowl was the plum pudding, now ready to be boiled for the next thirty hours. With a low curtsey, the bowl is handed to Lady Mary, and each of those present stirs the compound. Gerald's turn comes last, but just before he takes the spoon for that purpose, a wedding ring is dropped into the bowl. "That's to see who is going to get a husband within the next twelve-month," says the cook, in reply to a look of wonder from Meg. " Had we a ring in the pudding last 318 Christmas- Time. year ? " asks Meg, when the servants have gone from the room. " No, my dear," says Lady Mary. " We were in Rome last Christmas, you know, and forgot to put one in." That night when the children were in their beds, Gerald was awoke by many voices singing in the street outside. The moon was shining bright, so he got up and went to the window. It was a sweet Christmas carol that a few men and boys were singing. The snow had now gone, and the weather had become quite mild, so Gerald watched them for some minutes, and then as he went back to bed, he could hear them, after a pause, break out again, with — " Hark ! the herald angels sing, Glory to the new-born King." At dinner the next day, Sir Philip 319 Christmas-Time. asked Gerald why he was not at church last Sunday. The boy said it was because he had felt so cold all through the service when he was last there. "Why, you were asleep nearly the whole time," said Sir Philip, "so you could not have felt the cold much." At this remark they all laughed at Gerald ; but Lady Mary a moment after said, that she had always heard that extreme cold made people sleepy. FINIS. / ^^