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 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924014518645 
 
ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Or, the record OF A 
 HAPPY YEAR 
 
 KATE LOUISE BROWN 
 
 BOSTON, U. S. A. 
 
 D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 
 1899 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1899, ^'^ ^- ^- HEATH & CO. 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Plimpton ^reaa 
 
 H. m. PUMPTON & CO., PRINTERS & BINDERS, 
 NORWOOD, MASS., U.S.A. 
 
TO 
 
 HENRY TURNER BAILEY 
 
 GOOD COMRADE AND INSPIRATION 
 OF MANY ON THIS ROAD 
 
 1899 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 In introducing " Alice and Tom " to a wider 
 circle of grown-up and child friends, the author 
 has endeavored to present : — 
 
 First, a picture of free, healthy, hearty child- 
 life : of loving and courteous relations between 
 child and child, and between children and their 
 older friends and lovers. 
 
 Second, a picture of child-life in its relations 
 with the great, outside world of nature ; a quick- 
 ening of the recognition of that kinship between 
 all created things ; of the love, tenderness, and 
 reverence which should grow from this know- 
 ledge ; of the growth of a sense of law and beauty 
 which such knowledge inspires. 
 
 Third, a realization of what the poets and great 
 thinkers have felt about these things. 
 
 While the book does not claim to outline any 
 series of nature lessons, it aims to present clearly 
 a definite method of procedure. It is hoped that 
 many of the chapters will suggest a series of les- 
 sons, which the teacher may carry out, specimens 
 in hand. These lessons should precede rather 
 than follow the reading of the chapters. 
 
VI FOREWORD 
 
 " Alice and Tom " is the result of a long and 
 happy experience with a flock of hearty, lovable 
 country children. 
 
 Through this experience the author has come 
 to realize : — 
 
 First, that knowledge springs from actual con- 
 tact with the outside world, rather than from 
 books or theories. 
 
 Second, that a child's contact with common 
 things, rather than with strange or unusual ob- 
 jects, forms the best basis of knowledge. 
 
 Third, that affectionate interest springing from 
 the child's free choice of material is the secret of 
 all progress. 
 
 Note. — The author's thanks are due to Messrs. Houghton, 
 Mifflin & Co. for their courtesy in permitting the use of selections 
 from their editions of Lowell, Longfellow, Whittier, etc., — also 
 to Edith M. Thomas, Margaret Deland, Louise Imogen Guiney, 
 Frank Dempster Sherman, Clinton ScoUard, Thomas Wentworth 
 Higginson, John Burroughs, and others, for the use of original ma- 
 terial. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I. 
 
 II. 
 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 XI. 
 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Alice i 
 
 Tom . . 4 
 
 Rags 7 
 
 The Little Lady in Gray .... 9 
 
 Little Snowdrop 14 
 
 The Tree Babies. 17 
 
 Bare Twigs — William A llinghatn ... 19 
 
 The Horse-Chestnut 20 
 
 The Horse-Chestnut (continued) ... 23 
 
 The Baby Crocus 27 
 
 The Crocus Grown up 31 
 
 What a Seed can tell .... 34 
 
 How the Plant grew 38 
 
 A Seed — lVillia?n Allingham ... 41 
 
 The Catkin 42 
 
 What Rags found 44 
 
 On the Grasshopper and Cricket — John 
 
 Keats 47 
 
 Grasshopper Green 48 
 
 On the Grasshopper and Cricket — Leigh 
 
 Hunt 50 
 
 An Early Visitor 51 
 
 Bird of the Earth-brown Breast — 
 
 Adapted frojn John Burroughs . . 55 
 
 A Race with the Wind . . 58 
 
 The Whistler — Clinton Scollard . . 62 
 
 Far in the Woods ... . . 63 
 
 Mary's Meadow 67 
 
 A Birthday Girl 71 
 
 Blossoming Time .... 78 
 
 Decoration Day 85 
 
 Cherry Ripe . . ... 89 
 
 White Birch and Wild Raspberries . . 97 
 
VIU 
 
 CUJN ItJMlS 
 
 LESSON PAGB 
 
 XXXI. The Bobolink io6 
 
 XXXII. The ©'Lincoln Family — Wilson Flagg . 113 
 
 XXXIII. The Fourth of July 115 
 
 XXXIV. The Birds and the Poets . . .125 
 XXXV. Camping Out 128" 
 
 XXXVI. Camping Out (continued) . . . .133 
 
 XXXVII. Camping Out (concluded) .... 138 
 
 XXXVIII. The Thistle 146 
 
 XXXIX. The Soul of a Butterfly— 7". IV. Hig- 
 
 ginson IS3 
 
 XL. Goldenrod and Aster . . . . 154 
 
 XLI. The Walk to Chestnut Ridge . . . 160 
 
 XLII. With Robin Hood 164 
 
 XLIII. Birds of Passage 173 
 
 XLIV. Jack Frost has his Way . . . . 178 
 XLV. The First Snow-Fall ... .183 
 XLVI. The Christmas Silence — Margaret De- 
 land 190 
 
 XLVII. The Winter Woods ..... 193 
 
 XLVI II. The Trees in Winter 199 
 
 XLIX. The Chickadee — R. W. Emerson . . 206 
 
 L. A Day in February 207 
 
ALICE AND TOM 
 
 OR THE RECORD OF A HAPPY YEAR 
 
 I.— ALICE 
 
 " Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever: 
 Do noble things, not dream them all day long; 
 And so make life, death, and that vast forever, 
 One grand, sweet song." 
 
 Charles Kingsley. 
 
 WANT you 
 to know my 
 Alice. Is 
 there room in 
 your hearts 
 for another 
 friend ? 
 
 Alice is as 
 round as an ap- 
 ple, and as red 
 as a cherry. She 
 calls herself 
 ' half-past seven : " 
 what can that mean? 
 How those big blue 
 eyes of hers twinkle with fun or shine with joy ! 
 My Alice has two dimples ; one in her right cheek, 
 the other in her chin. 
 
2 ALICii AND lOivi 
 
 " Where is the dimple for your left cheek, little 
 one ? " 
 
 " It lost itself one day," says the maiden, trying 
 hard to keep a sober face. 
 
 My Alice has brown hair, " nut-brown locks " 
 in two braids. Mother ties each braid with a rib- 
 bon to match her daughter's dress. The ribbons 
 are too often missing. Who can tell what 
 becomes of them ? 
 
 " They lose themselves," says AHce. " Please, 
 mother dear, pin them on." 
 
 Alice likes to go to school. She says it is 
 " just fun." 
 
 She is very fond of play, however. She can run 
 even faster than a boy, and toss a ball exactly as 
 well. 
 
 I have seen her climb very tall trees. 
 
 She is a happy child, with a heart brimful of 
 joy. When you read this book you will know 
 why Alice is so happy. 
 
 Here is my friend : will you be her friend and 
 love her, too .? 
 
II. —TOM 
 
 Blessings on thee, little man, 
 Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan i . , . 
 With thy red lip, redder still 
 Kissed by strawberries on the hill." 
 
 John G. Whittier. 
 
 F you are Alice's 
 
 friend you 
 
 must be Tom's 
 
 also. Tom is 
 
 nine years old. 
 
 I could not 
 
 call Tom " as 
 
 .J round as an apple," 
 
 for he is very tall and 
 
 thin. His legs are 
 
 long and hard : he is 
 
 proud of that. 
 
 He will say to his mother, " Just feel the calves 
 
 of my legs ! See how hard they are ! They are 
 
 hard as rocks ! " 
 
 Tom is as brown as a berry, with two big, 
 sober, dark eyes. Alice's eyes shine and twinkle. 
 Tom's are like the golden-brown waters in the 
 trout pools. 
 
 Tom does not like his short, black, curly locks. 
 He uses soap and water to make his hair lie 
 
6 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 smoothly. It stays so about five minutes. Tom 
 calls it " the trial of his life." 
 
 Every little while he begs to have it cut. Once 
 a year, in summer, he is allowed to have it shaved. 
 This is a jo)^ul day for Tom. 
 
 We laugh at him, and his father says, " Old fel- 
 low, you look exactly as you did when you were 
 six months old." 
 
 " It is like Uncle Will's, and he is a Harvard 
 senior," replies Tom proudly. 
 
 I, who know Tom so well, think him a little 
 man. He is brave, kind, and gentle. You can- 
 not make him tell a lie. 
 
 He loves to share with others, and his heart is 
 very tender toward weak, small things. 
 
 Shall he be your friend, too ? 
 
III.— RAGS 
 
 " Ah, Blanco, did I worship God 
 As truly as you worship me. 
 Or follow where my Master trod, 
 
 With your humility. 
 Did I sit fondly at his feet 
 As you, dear Blanco, sit at mine, 
 And watch him with a love as sweet, 
 My life would grow divine." 
 
 J. G. Holland, To my Dog Blanco. 
 
 EAR! dear! please 
 don't leave me 
 out," barks Rags, 
 funniest and cur- 
 liest of dogs. 
 
 His coat is like 
 a snarl of gray silk. 
 His eyes are dark 
 and sharp. 
 
 You should see 
 his tongue ; it is 
 like a fluttering 
 pink rose-petal. 
 
 Tom was sound 
 asleep one Christ- 
 mas morning, but in his dreams he heard a queer 
 noise. He awoke and looked about. By the bed 
 was a big basket, and the noise came from it. 
 
8 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Tom opened the basket and out jumped a little 
 ball of gray down. It raced over the floor. It 
 smelled of Tom's stockings and growled at his 
 boots. Then it hopped on the bed and kissed 
 Tom. It tried to tell Tom about coming from 
 grandma's. 
 
 ". Bow-wow ! How are you, old fellow ? I am 
 well and hearty ! I came from grandma's. She 
 is a fine old lady ! Too bad she is n't your 
 grandma, too. 
 
 " I came in the cars. It was a long way and I 
 got tired of that basket. The cars made a great 
 noise. I just barked to tell them to keep still. 
 
 " I 'm glad I 'm here. I can run and jump and 
 roll a ball. I can play ' dead dog.' If you hide a 
 ball, I can find it. Now hurry up ! I want my 
 breakfast ! Wow ! " 
 
 Rags has two great faults : he will chase cats 
 and he will leave his bones in the wrong places. 
 He drops them under the bed, and tucks them 
 away in the easy-chairs and sofas. One dreadful 
 day father found a big bone in his silk hat. 
 
 But the little dog's heart is full of love for 
 Alice and Tom. Everywhere they go. Rags 
 would go too. If mother permitted it, he would 
 sleep with Tom every night. 
 
 No, we must not leave Rags out, must we, old 
 fellow ? 
 
 " Bow-wow-ze^(?zc/ .'' Leave me out ? I guess 
 not ! I 'm a good dog ! Wow ! " 
 
IV. — THE LITTLE LADY IN GRAY 
 
 Oh, sweet and low the south wind blows, 
 And through the brown field calling goes, 
 
 'Come, Pussy! Pussy Willow! 
 Within your dose brown wrapper stir; 
 Come out and show your silver fur; 
 Come, Pussy ! Pussy Willow ! ' " 
 
 Anon. 
 
 I. 
 
 T was a bright, cold 
 
 day in March, and 
 
 AHce and Tom had 
 
 started for school 
 
 very early. They were 
 
 looking carefully on 
 
 both sides of the road. 
 
 "There must be 
 
 some out by this 
 
 time," said Tom. " I 
 
 am going over the 
 
 wall to see." 
 
 Now, in the bushes 
 by the brook was — 
 some one just arrived 
 in town. She had 
 on a gray fur hood 
 and a brown coat — 
 the dear little lady! 
 Tom's bright eyes 
 spied her. 
 
lO ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " There is just one," he cried. " We '11 carry it 
 to Miss Merriam." 
 
 Tom picked the brown twig very carefully. 
 
 " You dear soft thing," cried Alice, smoothing 
 the little lady. 
 
 " Wow ! " said something else. 
 
 " .Rags ! you bad dog, why did you follow us ? " 
 and Tom looked very sternly at the little dog. 
 
 Rags lay down flat upon the ground and 
 wagged a beseeching tail. His eyes seemed to 
 say, " Do let me go to school ! I will be good." 
 
 "No," said Tom firmly, "you are not wanted 
 at school. You must go right home. Do you 
 remember how you chased poor Mary Ann the 
 last time you came .? No, no, Rags, — go — 
 right home ! " 
 
 Rags knew he must go when his master spoke 
 like that. He trotted sadly up the road until he 
 came to the turn ; then he sat down. 
 
 Alice and Tom went on to the brown school- 
 house under -the elms. Miss Merriam was al- 
 ready there hard at work. 
 
 "Oh, the first Pussy Willow!" she cried as 
 Tom handed her the little lady in gray. " I am 
 ' so glad to see you, you dear little thing." 
 
 Tom put the Pussy Willow in a pretty glass 
 vase, and set it on a table where every one could 
 see the welcome visitor. 
 
 I think their schoolroom would please you. 
 It was large and airy, and full of sunshine. The 
 
THE LITTLE LADY IN GRAY II 
 
 walls were a soft gray-blue and hung with pic- 
 tures. 
 
 Over the fireplace the dear Christ-Child gazed 
 from his mother's arms with big, tender eyes. 
 There was an open piano, a row of plants in each 
 window, a cabinet for collections, and a long sand 
 table. 
 
 Two goldfish swam about in a glass globe, and 
 on the window-seat lay a white cat fast asleep. 
 The sun shone warmly on her soft fur and the 
 yellow ribbon about her neck. 
 
 A pretty canary was just taking his morning 
 bath. 
 
 On the blackboard was written in golden let- 
 ters, 
 
 " Little children, love one another." 
 
 II. 
 
 The school children were all glad to see Pussy 
 Willow. They begged to sing their song about 
 her. 
 
 " Oh ! you Pussy Willow, 
 Pretty little thing." 
 
 After the song each child told something about 
 her. Miss Merriam wrote the sentences upon 
 the board. 
 
 They looked at Pussy very carefully to find out 
 all they could. 
 
12 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 PUSSY WILLOW. 
 
 Pussy Willow comes in March. 
 
 She grows on a bush. She grows by the 
 
 brook. 
 The branch has red-brown bark. 
 She cuddles down on the branch. 
 Every pussy has a little shelf to sit on. 
 All the pussies do not sit on the same side 
 
 of the branch. 
 They peep at one another. 
 Pussy Willow is shaped like an egg. 
 She wears a gray fur hood. 
 She has on a little brown coat. 
 Pretty soon Pussy will take off her fur hood. 
 Then she will have some yellow curls. 
 
 " Is this all you can tell ? " asked Miss Mer- 
 riam. 
 
 " Wow ! " said a sharp little voice. Every one 
 jumped ! 
 
 Mary Ann Haskins, the school cat, jumped 
 also, and her back went up. 
 
 Above the edge of the paper basket peeped a 
 wild little gray head. Two black eyes shone, and 
 a pink tongue wagged back and forth. 
 
 " You have n't asked me" barked Rags. " So 
 that 's a pussy, is it ? I call that a strange kind 
 of a cat ! No use to a dog ! Always up a tree ! 
 Don't think much of that kind of a cat ! Now 
 
THE LITTLE LADY IN GRAY 1 3 
 
 Mary Ann is more to my taste, and " — but Rags 
 never finished his story. 
 
 A strong arm took hold of him. The next 
 moment he was out in the cold, cold world. 
 
 " Rags ! " cried Tom, " go home or I shall lock 
 you up." 
 
 Rags knew what that meant, very well. On 
 his way he met Maps White, his great crony. 
 
 " Where have yoii been. Rags ? " he' asked. 
 
 " Oh, just at the schoolhouse," replied Rags. 
 " I have begun plant-study. We took the pussy 
 willow to-day. My story was the best of all." 
 
V. — LITTLE SNOWDROP 
 
 ' And I believe the brown earth takes delight 
 In the new snowdrop looking back at her." 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 OLLY MAY 
 
 was the very 
 smallest child 
 in school. 
 Though shy 
 and unwilling 
 to talk, she 
 heard every- 
 thing that 
 -- was said and 
 thought a good 
 deal about it. 
 
 One day, soon 
 
 after the pussy 
 
 willow lesson, she 
 
 found a little snowdrop. It was in a sunny spot 
 
 in Grandpa Lowell's garden. 
 
 " May I have it, grandpa ? " she asked, with 
 eager, shining face. 
 
 " I know where you want to take it," said 
 grandpa, with a twinkle in his kind old eyes. 
 
LITTLE SNOWDROP 1 5 
 
 So the dear little flower was taken up carefully 
 with plenty of earth. It was put in a small pot, 
 and carried all the way to school in Dolly's own 
 hands. 
 
 Now little Snowdrop was on the table, and all 
 the children were looking at her. Do you won- 
 der that Dolly's face was so bright ? 
 
 " This is our first real flower," said Miss Mer- 
 riam, " and the very youngest child brought it. 
 That makes it the more welcome. We all like 
 the snowdrop : tell me why .? " 
 
 " I like it because it is so brave," declared Tom. 
 " It comes up in the cold, sometimes right out of 
 the snow." 
 
 " I like its white dress and pale green waist," 
 said Susie Miner. 
 
 " See it hang over like a little bell ! " exclaimed 
 Mabel Weston. 
 
 " I like the leaves," said Alice. " They are 
 long and narrow like grass blades. They are 
 darker green than the ' waist,' as Susie calls it. 
 They look so pretty against the pure white of the 
 flower." 
 
 Miss Merriam took the plant very gently from 
 the pot. 
 
 " What a funny root," said Bob Mason, " just 
 like a tiny onion." 
 
 " Have you seen other roots like this ? " 
 
 The children thought a moment, then men- 
 tioned the lily, the tulip, and the crocus. 
 
1 6 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " We call such a root a bulb," said Miss Mer- 
 riam. " The bulb is packed full of food for the 
 young plant. That is why it comes so early, and 
 has the strength to push its way up through the 
 frozen soil. There are other bulbs : - see if you 
 can find out about them." 
 
 Miss Merriam then wrote on the board the 
 lines at the head of this chapter. 
 
 " I like that so much ! " said Beth Fairchild. 
 " The snowdrdp really seems to be peeping at 
 the earth. Is the earth our mother, too ? I read 
 somewhere ' our mother earth.' " 
 
 " I think we can call her ' mother ' since all we 
 have in our bodies comes from her. She gives 
 us food and clothing, and were it not for her kind 
 nourishing we could not live," replied Miss Mer- 
 riam. 
 
 The snowdrop remained in school all day. 
 The children gave it many loving glances. They 
 tried to draw it, and Dolly made whole rows of 
 funny, crooked little flowers all looking down. 
 
 When the new sewing-cards came, — oh joy ! 
 On every card was a snowdrop to sew in green 
 and white silk. 
 
 No wonder Dolly went home with pink cheeks. 
 
VI. — THE TREE BABIES 
 
 ' Do the little brown twigs complain 
 That they have n't a leaf to wear ? 
 Or the grass when the wind and the rain 
 Pull at her matted hair ? 
 
 ' Do the buds that the leaves left bare 
 To strive with their wintry fate, 
 In a moment of deep despair 
 Destroy what they cannot create ? 
 Oh, Nature is teaching us there, 
 To patiently watch and wait." 
 
 A. E. P. 
 
 T was a rainy day. 
 
 \ The cold North 
 
 Wind roared about 
 
 -^•^ the brown school- 
 
 J^ house. The drops 
 
 raced and chased 
 
 down the window 
 
 panes. 
 
 The httle pupils 
 
 were hard at work 
 
 all the morning. 
 
 They did not care if 
 
 it was stormy. 
 
 At last Miss Mer- 
 
 riam told them to put 
 
 away their books. 
 
 She called Tom to her and said something in 
 
 a low tone. He left the room, but soon returned 
 
 with a wet branch from the horse-chestnut tree. 
 
ly ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Let US talk about the tree babies," said Miss 
 Merriam. " I have watched them out in the cold 
 and snow ; they are brave little things." 
 
 " I should think such a storm would kill them," 
 said Beth. 
 
 " It did n't kill Pussy Willow," remarked Bob. 
 " There are buds on the trees all winter, and they 
 don't die." 
 
 Miss Merriam brought a jar from the ante- 
 room. " Here are some twigs I have had in 
 water several days," she said. 
 
 " Why, the buds are bursting open," cried 
 Daisy, " and there are other leaves inside." 
 
 " Are they just like the outside leaves .'' " 
 
 " Oh no, they are not so thick. They are a 
 different color, too. The outside leaves are all 
 brown. The inner ones are light green, with 
 brown on the tips." 
 
 " What are the outside leaves good for ? " 
 
 " I know — I know ! " cried Alice, " they keep 
 the bud from getting cold." 
 
 " The mother-tree takes good care of her leaf- 
 children," said Miss Merriam. " All winter long 
 the leaf-babies in their warm coats swing up and 
 down. They do not mind the rain or the snow ; 
 the cold does not touch them. 
 
 " They are waiting for spring time, for growing 
 time. They are in no hurry, they take plenty of 
 time. 
 
 " Dear little leaf-babies ! " 
 
VII. — BARE TWIGS 
 
 BARE twigs in autumn are signs for sadness ; 
 We feel that the good time is well-nigh past ; 
 The glow subdued and the voice of gladness, 
 And frosty whispers in every blast. 
 
 Bare twigs in April enhance our pleasure ; 
 We know the good time is yet to come ; 
 With leaves and flowers to fill summer's measure, 
 And countless songs ere the birds be dumb. 
 
 William Allingham. 
 
VIII. —THE HORSE-CHESTNUT 
 
 A WONDERFUL STORY-BOOK 
 
 " The Tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their brown ; 
 ' Shall I take them away ? ' said the Frost, sweeping down. 
 ' No, leave them alone 
 Till the blossoms have grown,' 
 Prayed the Tree, while he trembled from rootlet to crown." 
 
 BjORNSTJERNE BjORNSON. 
 
 TOM," said Alice that same day, "let's have 
 some branches of our own to study." 
 
 " All right," agreed Tom, " but what shall we 
 choose ? " 
 
 " I '11 ask mother," said Alice. . 
 
 Mrs. Pryor advised taking the same kind of 
 branch they had seen at school, — the horse- 
 chestnut. " All the parts are so large," she said, 
 " that it is easy to study." 
 
 Alice kept her branch in a jar of water in her 
 south window. Every day she watched it, and 
 talked with her mother about the unfolding. For 
 nearly a week the buds seemed to remain the 
 same. 
 
 " Oh dear ! I don't believe they will ever open," 
 she said at last, tired of no reward for her watch- 
 ing. 
 
 " Remember what your little verse says," re- 
 plied Mrs. Pryor soothingly. 
 
THE HORSE-CHESTNUT 21 
 
 ' Oh, Nature is telling us there, 
 To patiently watch and wait.' 
 
 The best things are often the slowest. If you 
 would be a true Nature-lover, Alice, you must 
 learn to look often, and always very patiently." 
 
 One day it did seem as if the buds were grow- 
 ing larger. Surely, the tree-babies inside must 
 be stirring ! Their cradles were now too small. 
 
 The next day one could see that the buds were 
 really opening. The brown bud-scales, or little 
 waterproof coats, were not so tightly folded. 
 They were even starting a little at the edges. 
 
 Alice had noticed that the horse-chestnut bud 
 was much larger than other buds, and had a rich 
 reddish-brown color. It was covered on the out- 
 side with thick leaves or scales. The whole bud 
 was sticky with a brown varnish. This was to 
 keep out the wet and cold. 
 
 When these scales unfolded, she saw still 
 another set. They were thinner and a light 
 green. The brown varnish was on the tips wher- 
 ever they were exposed. 
 
 Alice noticed that these inner leaflets gradu- 
 ally grew longer and longer. Every day they 
 stretched upward a little farther. 
 
 " The outer scales have rolled down, mother," 
 said the little girl. " But that inner set grows 
 longer so very slowly." 
 
 " Perhaps it has something precious to guard, 
 Alice. What do you think it may be ? " 
 
22 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Oh, leaves, I suppose, and perhaps blossoms. 
 They are precious things ! Perhaps the inside 
 scales are wise, after all." 
 
 Very soon the inner scales parted, and Alice 
 saw bits of light brown fuzz peeping out. 
 
 " The babies are getting restless," said Mrs. 
 Pryor ; " they are kicking off their blankets." 
 
 From that time on the daily watch became very 
 exciting. The inner scales parted more and more. 
 Their work of protection was nearly over. The 
 leaf clusters were tightly folded like the fingers 
 of a baby, and covered with the woolly fuzz. 
 
 By and by they began to spread. Bits of ten- 
 der green peeped out. The seven little leaf-parts 
 slowly unrolled. 
 
 They were like timid children who look about 
 to see if any one means to hurt them. But they 
 were soon trustful children. Even the smallest 
 leaf-part spread out as much as it could to find 
 the beautiful light. 
 
 At first the stem was short, and the leaf-parts 
 turned down over it. Did they regret the warm, 
 safe bud-home they had left .? But the brave lit- 
 tle stem kept pushing on, longer and longer. 
 The timid leaflets took courage and spread out 
 more and more. 
 
 They were the most exquisite green, with a per- 
 fect feather-veining. They brought the spring to 
 Alice's little room, and her heart unfolded with 
 the tender leaves. 
 
IX.— THE HORSE-CHESTNUT 
 Continued 
 
 " Nature never hurries ; atom by atom, little by little, she achieves her 
 work." — Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 
 AS the buds unfolded, Alice saw they were 
 not all alike. The large end ones had both 
 flower and leaf clusters in them. The smaller 
 side buds had only leaves. 
 
 Both leaf and flower clusters were covered with 
 the fuzzy blankets, which turned a light brown 
 when they were exposed to the air. 
 
 She found out another thing, too. The horse- 
 chestnut leaves did not always have seven parts. 
 Many of the side clusters were only five-parted. 
 Mrs. Pryor told her that she had found leaves in 
 six and nine parts. 
 
 " Why is the flower cluster always in the mid- 
 dle ? " asked the child. 
 
 " Think a moment," said her mother ; " which 
 is really the most precious part ? " 
 
 " I suppose the flowers," said Alice slowly; "they 
 are such beauties when they are full-grown." 
 
 " But you must have even a better reason than 
 that. What will the flowers make by and by ? " 
 
24 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Oh! nuts, and nuts make trees. I see now." 
 " Yes, that is true. The good httle leaves do 
 
 their part, and the tree 
 could not get on with- 
 out them. But Nature 
 always guards her 
 seeds most carefully. 
 
 " That is why we 
 find the apple and or- 
 ange seeds in the very 
 centre. That is why the peach and cherry have 
 their hard cases. You might plant all the leaves 
 on the tree and nothing would grow from them. 
 
 " Even the tiniest flower has its seeds cherished 
 in the safest place in its very heart." 
 
 " It is all so wonderful," said Alice with a sigh ; 
 " and there is so much to know, mother dear." 
 
 " Knowing means growing," said Mrs. Pryor, 
 patting the bright cheek next to her. 
 
 But Alice thought the twigs as wonderful as 
 the buds. She counted three kinds of marks or 
 scars upon them. 
 
 First there were the horseshoes, each studded 
 with its row of dainty nail-heads. Alice saw that 
 some of the horseshoes had more nails than 
 others. 
 
 When she asked her mother about it, Mrs. 
 Pryor told her that the horseshoe scar was made 
 when the leaf stalk dropped from the twig. 
 
 Each dot was the broken end of a bundle of 
 
THE HORSE-CHESTNUT 
 
 25 
 
 fibres, which ran from the branch through the 
 leaf stem to each of the divisions of the leaf. 
 This bundle formed the mid-vein of each leaf. 
 
 " So you see, Alice, if there are five bundles 
 there will be five dots ; seven bundles, 
 seven dots. Now what do the dots 
 tell us about the leaflets ? " 
 
 Alice thought a moment : " Five 
 dots — five bundles. One bundle 
 to each leaflet. Oh, I see, five 
 bundles, five leaflets ! Why, mother 
 dear, the number of dots tells the 
 number of leaflets in the leaf that 
 grew there. The twig is like a 
 story-book, is n't it ? " 
 
 " It is, indeed," said Mrs. Pryor, 
 " and a most wonderful history. I 
 have studied it for years and still 
 I am always finding some new 
 truth." 
 
 " It 's very convenient to have you 
 for a mother," said the child, with a 
 little caress. " Now you '11 tell me 
 all those stories." 
 
 But Alice still had to use her eyes 
 in spite of the convenient story-teller at hand. 
 She found sets of rings running around the twigs. 
 
 Mother led her to see that they were made by 
 the dropping off of the bud-scales. She saw that 
 some of the spaces between the bud-scale scars 
 
26 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 were longer than others. This showed that the 
 branch had grown more in some years than in 
 others. 
 
 In the forks of the branches Alice found still 
 another kind of scar. It was circular in shape 
 and sunken toward the middle. Alice thought it 
 looked like the seal her mother used- in sealing 
 letters. 
 
 She also noticed dots scattered over the sur- 
 face of the twig. Mrs. Pryor told her that these 
 were little holes out of which the gases in the 
 tree escaped. In the older parts these dots had 
 become long rifts or gashes. 
 
 So you see the horse-chestnut bud wrote its 
 own life story on its branches. All these things 
 Alice learned day by day, as she watched her buds 
 open. 
 
 The leaf-clusters unfolded beautifully, but the 
 little flower-clusters faded in a few days. Mother 
 Nature was not willing to have all her work car- 
 ried on in the house and ahead of time. 
 
 Later, Alice saw the great clusters of pink and 
 white on the trees. They were all the more 
 lovely to her because she had been watching the 
 branch with new eyes. 
 
X. — THE BABY CROCUS 
 
 " A baby crocus has literally its own little dome, — dovius or duomo, 
 — within which in early spring it lives a delicate convent life of its own, 
 quite free from all worldly cares and dangers, exceedingly ignorant of 
 things in general, but itself brightly golden and perfectly formed before 
 it is brought out." — John Ruskin, 
 
 T was Sunday after- 
 noon, and Mrs. Ben- 
 nett sat waiting for 
 her little son to re- 
 turn from Sunday- 
 school. In he came, 
 fresh and rosy from 
 his long walk 
 and North 
 Wind's 
 kisses. 
 
 "Oh, mo- 
 ther," he 
 cried, "just 
 see this little 
 flower! I 
 found it in a 
 yard on the 
 avenue. It was cud- 
 dled in a corner where 
 the coping made a 
 bend." 
 
 " Why, it is a crocus, 
 
28 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 the first I 've seen this season. But, Tom, you 
 must not take flowers from a yard. That will 
 never, never do ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Tom, aghast. " I did n't mean to 
 do wrong. But the little thing looked so cold 
 and lonesome, I thought I would bring it to you." 
 
 " I am very fond of crocuses," said his mother. 
 " There is something so tender and delicate in 
 this little flower. I know of nothing sweeter 
 unless it is a baby snowdrop." 
 
 " And it 's so brave, mother. My crocus was 
 coming right up in the snow. Snowdrops and 
 crocuses must be strong to do that, even if they 
 seem tender." 
 
 " There 's a good reason for that, Tom." 
 
 " What is it ? " And Tom's eyes looked very 
 eager, as they did always at a new idea. 
 
 " Wait a little, my boy. When we can get a 
 crocus bulb to study, I will show you what I 
 mean." 
 
 " It seems as if we had to wait for everything." 
 And Tom gave a sigh. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," laughed Mrs. Bennett. " Life is 
 made up of waiting. Mothers have to wait to see 
 things grow in their children. 
 
 " Put your flower in water, and come to dinner. 
 I know some one who does n't like to be kept 
 waiting in her kitchen, Sundays of all days." 
 
 The next Tuesday Tom came tumbling in, 
 eager to find his mother. 
 
THE BABY CROCUS 29 
 
 " There 's a whole bed of crocuses on the 
 lawn ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Bennett, smiling ; " I have 
 visited them every day since the first green blade 
 pricked through the ground. This was planned 
 as a surprise for you. Now we can have our 
 bulb. " 
 
 " I '11 go and get one this minute," cried Tom, 
 starting up. 
 
 " Will you take up the plant before the blos- 
 som is fully out ? " 
 
 Tom was silent for a moment. " No, I won't," 
 he replied at last. " It is n't fair for the plant to 
 work so hard to make a flower, and then not have 
 the chance to let it grow. I '11 wait." 
 
 " That is right," said Mrs. Bennett ; " even 
 plants should be respected in their rights. But I 
 think by to-morrow you may have your bulb." 
 
 When the waiting time was over and Tom 
 took up his bulbs, he gave a great cry. 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! " he said. " Just look here ! 
 See this large bulb with three little ones growing 
 from it. And there are ever so many thread-like 
 roots growing from the bottom of the big bulb. 
 Is the big bulb a mother, and are the little ones 
 her children ? " 
 
 " Yes, Tom, or at least they are little houses 
 for them to live in. The large bulb is anxious to 
 have her children close beside her. 
 
 " She does not scatter seed like some flower 
 
30 ALICE ANB TOM 
 
 mothers, to fall and grow wherever it will. Her 
 children are part of herself, and she gives her very 
 life to feed them. 
 
 " When the buds are fully formed and ready to 
 send their flower children on the earth journey, 
 then the mother bulb dies : her work is done." 
 
 " Oh ! that seems too bad," and tears shone in 
 Tom's brown eyes. 
 
 " That is mother-love, my boy, the world over. 
 But let me cut one of the tiny bulbs open. What 
 do you see, Tom ? " 
 
 " I see a little yellow speck in the white." 
 
 " That is the beginning of a baby crocus. The 
 little thing lives in its cosy bulb-home until it is 
 perfectly able to rise in the world as a grown-up 
 flower." 
 
 " Is that why it is so strong and can push its 
 way up through the hard soil ? " cried Tom with 
 excited eyes. 
 
 " Yes, dear. Now is n't this story of crocus 
 life as good as any fairy tale .'' " 
 
 " It is wonderful ! " said Tom, earnestly. 
 
XI. — THE CROCUS GROWN UP 
 
 " Where March winds whistle keen and cold, 
 The crocus opes its fairy gold." 
 
 'LICE was just 
 as eager as Tom 
 to know 
 about the 
 crocus. She 
 loved to lie 
 flat upon the 
 lawn and 
 look down 
 into their fairy cups, — " little palaces of delight," 
 her father called them. 
 
 One day she ran to her mother with a great 
 discovery. 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! " she cried ; " those crocuses 
 are so queer ! They grow in little bunches — a 
 lot of leaves in a bunch, with one or two buds in 
 the middle. And the lower part is wrapped in 
 strips of something like tissue paper. 
 
 " There 11 be one on one side of the stalk, then 
 the next one will be on the other side and reach 
 farther up, and so on. Sometimes there'll be 
 three or four of the strips." 
 
32 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Many of the spring bulb-flowers have that 
 covering or sheath," said Mrs. Pryor. 
 
 " The flower stalk is very tender and needs to 
 be protected from the cold. The sweet little bud 
 that is pushing its way up is even more delicate." 
 
 Alice thought the crocus leaf very pretty. It 
 was long and green like a grass blade, only a 
 darker green and much thicker. 
 
 It had a white stripe running up the middle 
 out to the very tip. The under part of the leaf 
 was very curious. I will not tell you about it, for 
 I should like to have you see it for yourself. 
 
 Tom's crocuses were hardy little things, many 
 of them six or seven inches high. There were 
 very white ones, golden at the hearts, yet even 
 the whitest had a few faint marks of purple. 
 
 Alice was specially fond of the orange-colored 
 cups. They were smaller than the others, and 
 beautifully marked on the outside of the petals 
 with groups of fine black lines. 
 
 Alice noticed that the stalks were brightly 
 steeped with the general color of the flower about 
 half way down, then shaded into white. 
 
 Each delicate cup was cut in six petals ; three 
 large outside ones, and three smaller ones that 
 stood modestly within. 
 
 Every petal was exquisite in its veining of a 
 darker shade. At night the petals folded into a 
 closed bud. But when the sunshine came in the 
 morning, each fairy palace would open its door. 
 
THE CROCUS GROWN UP 33 
 
 The little golden lady inside with her three 
 shining maids of honor would peep out into the 
 spring world. One by one the petals would curve 
 out until the airy cups swung like bright bubbles 
 among the green leaves. 
 
 Oh ! there is nothing more beautiful than a 
 crocus among all of Mother Nature's children. 
 I have told you only a very little. Watch some 
 crocuses yourself next year, and see if I am not 
 right. 
 
 About this time Miss Merriam gave her chil- 
 dren this verse to learn. 
 
 " Come, gather the crocus cups with me 
 And dream of summer coming : 
 Saffron and purple and snowy white 
 Before the first bee's humming." 
 
XII. — WHAT A SEED CAN TELL 
 
 ' As wonderful things are hidden away 
 In the heart of a little brown seed, 
 As ever were found in the fairy net 
 Of which children sometimes read." 
 
 OU must not 
 
 think Miss 
 
 Merriam was 
 
 idle all this 
 
 The children 
 
 studied the horse - 
 
 chestnut twig at 
 
 school, as Alice and 
 
 Tom were doing at 
 
 home. 
 
 Perhaps Alice and 
 
 Tom got more out of it than the rest, 
 
 because they had so much help and 
 
 companionship in the study. At any 
 
 rate they were glad to give their extra knowledge 
 
 to the class. 
 
 The children painted their twigs in water col- 
 ors on drawing-paper, and modelled them in clay. 
 The first work was a slow process, as they had to 
 try many times before they mixed the paints just 
 
WHAT A SEED CAN TELL 35 
 
 right to get the peculiar red-brown of the bark 
 and bud-scales. 
 
 One day Miss Merriam gave each child a bean, 
 and asked him to drop it in a cup of water that 
 stood on the table. The next day the same beans 
 were given out again. 
 
 " Do your beans look as they did yesterday ? " 
 inquired the teacher. 
 
 The children thought not. They agreed that 
 the beans were larger and softer. Bessie noticed 
 that the skin was loose and wrinkled now. The 
 day before it had been on very tight. 
 
 Several of the pupils tried to separate the skin 
 from a bean that had not been soaked. They 
 saw that parts of the inside came off with it. 
 
 " Now take off the skin of your soaked bean 
 very carefully," said Miss Merriam. 
 
 " My bean has broken in two pieces," said Daisy. 
 
 " So has mine," cried Hal, " and there is some 
 juice between the pieces." 
 
 " I see a little bunch at the top," said Alice. 
 
 " Look at the bunch carefully." 
 
 " I see a tiny white leaf ! " 
 
 " I see two white leaves." 
 
 " What is between them ? " 
 
 " It looks like a stem." 
 
 " You are right ; now what have we found in 
 the bean ? What shall we call it ? " 
 
 " A plant" burst out Dolly, " 'cause my snow- 
 drop had a stem and leaves." 
 
36 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Every seed has a little plant shut up in it," 
 
 " Every seed in the world ? " 
 
 " Yes, every seed in the world has a little plant, 
 or at least the beginnings of one. Many seeds, 
 however, are so small that you cannot see the 
 plant without putting it under the microscope." 
 
 " I told Tom you would find something lovely 
 in those beans," said Alice, with a glowing 
 face. 
 
 " What shall we call the seed itself ? " 
 
 " It is a house or a box," said Beth. 
 
 " I like to call it a cradle, and the plant a 
 baby." 
 
 II. 
 
 " Now let us think of the human baby. What 
 does it do ? " 
 
 " Our newest baby sleeps all the time," said 
 little Frida in a very important manner. 
 
 " All young babies sleep the greater part of the 
 time. Their sleepy time is growing time, just as 
 ours is. And the plant-baby is no exception. It 
 sleeps until something says, ' Wake up ! ' " 
 
 " What says ' Wake up,' Miss Merriam .? " 
 
 " I will not tell you now because I want you to 
 find out and tell me, later." 
 
 " Our baby eats when he does n't sleep," put in 
 Frida. 
 
 " So does the dear plant-baby. It must eat as 
 any living thing does. God puts its food in the 
 
WHAT A SEED CAN TELL 37 
 
 cradle with it. Oh, little baby bean plant has so 
 much food in those thick halves of its cradle ! 
 
 " That is why it is able to grow two leaves as 
 well as a stem. Little morning-glory baby has 
 only enough food-jelly to grow a stem in the seed. 
 It must make leaves by its own labor." 
 
 " Oh ! I do fink that 's too bad," said Hal with 
 such a grieved face that the children shouted. 
 
 Miss Merriam showed them two boxes full of 
 loam and sand which Mr. Pryor had sent over 
 from his greenhouse. 
 
 Rows of holes had been made in the sand, and 
 each child in turn was allowed to plant a bean. 
 After the earth was put back over the seeds, Frida 
 took the watering-pot and gave them a good drink. 
 
 The boxes were put on the window seat, and 
 Mary Ann was kindly requested not to sit on 
 either of them. The sunshine fell warmly on the 
 brown earth. 
 
 Overhead the little canary sang, " Spring is 
 coming, Sweet ! Surely coming, Sweet ! Sweet ! 
 Sweet ! " 
 
XIIL — HOW THE PLANT GREW 
 
 " From each little seed, O hear the cry, 
 ' Who cares to live, to live must die I ' 
 From each little plant O hear the shout, 
 ' The sunshine is coming, spring out ! spring out ! 
 For howsoe'er strongly the wind may blow, 
 The summer is coming again, we know.' " 
 
 From the Norwegian. 
 
 ^T was Friday when the beans were 
 
 planted. On Monday one seed was 
 
 taken carefully from the earth. 
 
 The little stem had moved 
 
 down into the soil. 
 
 " The baby is awake 
 
 now and stretching," 
 
 said Miss Merriam. 
 
 " You just ought to 
 
 see how our baby 
 
 stretches," said Frida. 
 
 On Wednesday they looked at 
 
 another bean. The stem had grown 
 
 longer. What do you think it had 
 
 growing out from each side ? 
 
 On Friday the little leaves had 
 grown above the cradle-top up to 
 the surface of the earth. They 
 were no longer white but a pale 
 green. What had changed the color ? 
 
HOW THE PLANT GREW 39 
 
 The next Monday the plant was several inches 
 high. The two halves of its cradle still clung to 
 the stem. The leaves were larger, and between 
 them was another leaf-bud. 
 
 " Do you know now what said ' Wake up ' to 
 the plant-baby ? " asked Miss Merriam. 
 
 " The light wakes me up in the morning," said 
 Alice. 
 
 " So the sunshine and the water both helped 
 the little plant. It was sound asleep in its warm, 
 dark cradle. But the sunshine thrust its slender 
 golden fingers down through the soil. The kind, 
 silver raindrops ran hurrying down to where the 
 cradle lay. 
 
 " ' Wake up, dear little one,' they said, ' the 
 beautiful growing time is coming.' 
 
 " So the baby stirred and stretched. His cradle 
 was too small for the new life. Down went the 
 plump foot firmly in the soil. 
 
 " Up came two little leaves like clasped hands. 
 ' Dear light ; be good to me,' was their prayer, 
 ' show me the way to find you.' 
 
 " ' I am all right,' said the stem, ' my place is to 
 stay in the dark, to reach about and find sweet 
 juices for the plant-baby's food. 
 
 " You may turn me up to the light if you will, 
 but I know my duty, and I shall grow down again 
 even if I must curve to do it' " 
 
 " You talk just as if you had been a plant-baby 
 yourself," said Bessie. 
 
40 ALICii AiNjj luivi 
 
 " I have been a human baby, and have watched 
 many human babies," replied Miss Merriam. 
 " When you are older, you will know that there 
 is not so much difference between the various 
 kinds of babies as we have thought." 
 
 One day the children could not find the halves 
 of the cradle. " They were on the stem yester- 
 day," said Susie. 
 
 " Had they changed at all ? " 
 
 " They looked dry and wrinkled." 
 
 " Then they have dropped off. The plant 
 needs them no longer. It now has enough leaves 
 to feed it. They take in what is needed from the 
 air and sunshine. The roots do their work also. 
 Our plant-baby has grown up and can care for 
 itself." 
 
 The plants in the boxes grew very fast. They 
 ran up some strings along the side of the window. 
 Pretty soon some white blossoms opened their 
 lovely eyes to the sunny world. 
 
 " All this from a seed? " you ask. 
 
 Yes, this is a part of the life-history of every 
 little seed allowed to grow. In the sweetest, 
 most perfect way, the seed does just what God 
 tells it to do. 
 
XIV. — A SEED 
 
 how a seed which 
 Autumn flung down, 
 And through the Win- 
 ter neglected lay, 
 Uncoils two little green 
 leaves and two brown, 
 ;^.With tiny root taking 
 ^ . hold on the clay, 
 ^^'"As lifting and strength- 
 ^ ening day by day, 
 It pushes red branchlets, sprouts 
 
 new leaves. 
 And cell after cell the power in 
 
 it weaves. 
 Out of the storehouse of soil 
 and clime. 
 To fashion a tree in due course of time ; 
 Tree with rough bark, and bough's expansion, 
 Where the crow can build his mansion. 
 Or a man in some new May, 
 Lie under whispering leaves and say, 
 ' Are the ills of one's life so very bad 
 When a Green Tree makes me deliciously glad ? ' 
 As I do now. But where shall I be 
 When this little tree is a tall green tree ? 
 
 William Allingham. 
 
XV. —THE CATKIN 
 
 ' For ages on our river borders, 
 These tassels in tlieir tawny bloom, 
 And willowy studs of downy silver, 
 Have prophesied of Spring to come." 
 
 John G. Whittier. 
 
 ERY soon after 
 Pussy Willow 
 came the Cat- 
 kin was seen on 
 the alder and 
 hazel bushes. 
 
 There were 
 some catkins 
 on a branch in 
 the schoolroom. 
 Beth Fairchild 
 had brought 
 them. They 
 were about half 
 an inch long, and very hard. 
 
 " I do not think them pretty," said 
 the little girl. 
 " Wait and see," replied Miss Merriam, putting 
 the branch in water. 
 
 The sunshine coaxed the catkin. " Do grow 
 and show them what you can be," urged the warm 
 rays. 
 
THE CATKIN 43 
 
 " It is pretty hard to fight against public opin- 
 ion," replied the catkin sadly. " The little girl 
 does not like me — says I am ugly." 
 
 " Oh, never mind ! Go ahead ! She '11 change 
 her mind by and by." 
 
 So the catkin took heart. Every day he 
 stretched a little. 
 
 " Why, he is growing longer," cried the chil- 
 dren. 
 
 The catkin grew and grew. You never saw 
 such a big fellow ; he simply outdid himself. 
 What do you think he began to send out after a 
 while ? Mary Ann's pink nose was covered with 
 it one day. She was asleep on the window seat 
 in the sunshine. 
 
 " What is the yellow dust ? " asked Frida. 
 
 " It is pollen ; it ripens the seeds of other 
 flowers. Have you never seen it before .'' " 
 
 Many of the children had. 
 
 The catkin still grew. It grew as if it were 
 fun. 
 
 One day Miss Merriam let the children look at 
 it through a magnifying glass. Every little bit 
 was in itself a lovely flower. 
 
 " The catkin zs beautiful, after all," said Beth. 
 
 " Well, it paid to try," thought the catkin, tired 
 with stretching. 
 
 " There ! did n't I tell you so ? " said the jolly 
 sunbeam. 
 
XVI. — WHAT RAGS FOUND 
 
 The grasshoppers all skip, 
 The early dewdrops sipping, 
 
 Under, over. 
 Bent and clover, 
 Daisy, sorrel 
 Without quarrel, 
 ' All are fond of skipping." 
 
 Thomas Hood. 
 
 T was recess at the brown 
 
 ' . schoolhouse. The chil- 
 
 ^ dren had eaten their 
 
 'luncheon, and were at play 
 
 in the field opposite. 
 
 ? They liked this field even 
 
 better than the schoolyard. 
 
 They liked to swing on the 
 
 birches and to sail boats on 
 
 the brook. 
 
 Rags was there, too. He 
 sat on the schoolhouse steps 
 as the children came out. 
 " Is n't he a good dog ? " 
 said little Dolly. "He didn't 
 try to come into the schoolhouse 
 to-day." 
 "" Rags was so happy to be called 
 
 " good dog " ! He jumped up and 
 down and barked at the top of his 
 voice. 
 
WHAT RAGS FOUND 45 
 
 When they reached the field Rags ran about 
 the edge, still barking loudly. 
 
 " He does that to keep all the bad dogs away," 
 explained Alice. 
 
 " I 'd like to see any bad dogs here," barked 
 Rags. " If they come I '11 send them off, double- 
 quick time ! Wow ! " 
 
 The children walked about, looking carefully to 
 see if the first violets had arrived. March had 
 thus far been mild and lovely. The grass was 
 already green. But the violet-sisters had not as 
 yet donned their green coats and blue bonnets. 
 
 " What is the matter with Rags ? " said Rose. 
 " He has found something." 
 
 Rags, almost beside himself, was standing look- 
 ing down into the grass. 
 
 " I have a hopping thing," barked Rags. " It 
 hopped up in my face ! I caught it with my paw ! 
 I am holding it down ior you, my dear master." 
 
 " It 's a young grasshopper ! " cried Tom. 
 " I '11 take it to Miss Merriam." 
 
 " Here 's another ! " said Bob. " Hi ! there he 
 goes. Oh dear, I lost him ! " 
 
 " I have one," said Frida. " Let 's each try to 
 get one." 
 
 So down on their knees went the children. Rags 
 meantime telling them how to catch the " hopping 
 things." 
 
 " I caught the first," he barked, " so I know. 
 Get down on all fours just as I do. Put your 
 front paw down — so ! Quick ! " 
 
46 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 The children caught three or four more, then 
 ran to find Miss Merriam. 
 
 " Grasshoppers ! Hve grasshoppers," they cried, 
 tumbhng into the schoolroom. 
 
 " What ! as early as this ? " said their teacher. 
 
 " Truly ! truly ! just see ! " and Tom opened his 
 hands a little way. 
 
 " You are right," said Miss Merriam. " I never 
 saw them so early before. Put them in this 
 glass." 
 
 The young grasshoppers soon found themselves 
 in a glass house. It was useless to try to fly out, 
 for Miss Merriam had tied netting over the top. 
 
 " I know we '11 have a lesson about the grass- 
 hoppers," said Tom to Alice as the bell rang. 
 
 Mary Ami was watching a mouse-hole in the 
 cellar, so Rags was allowed to come in. He felt 
 very proud of the honor, and tried not to bark 
 every time a grasshopper stirred. 
 
XVII. — ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND 
 CRICKET 
 
 THE poetry of earth is never dead ! 
 When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, 
 And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run 
 From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead ; 
 This is the Grasshopper's, — he takes the lead 
 In summer luxury, — he has never done 
 With his delights : for when tired out with fun 
 He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. 
 The poetry of earth is ceasing never : 
 On a lone winter evening, when the frost 
 Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills 
 The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever ; 
 And seems to one in drowsiness half lost 
 The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills. 
 
 John Keats. 
 
XVIIL — GRASSHOPPER GREEN 
 
 " Grasshopper Green is a comical chap, 
 He lives on the best of fare ; 
 Bright little jacket and trousers and cap, 
 These are his summer wear. 
 
 " Out in the meadow he 16ves to go 
 Playing away in the sun, 
 It 's hopperty, skipperty high and low. 
 Summer 's the lime for fun." 
 
 THIS IS THE STORY GRASSHOPPER GREEN TOLD. 
 
 AM a young grasshopper. 
 
 I am a very early one. 
 
 Do you know what I came 
 from ? 
 
 What does the chicken 
 come from ? 
 
 Look at my head ! Is n't 
 it funny ? 
 
 It is so queer I am really 
 quite proud of it. It is what 
 / call beautiful. I cannot 
 say that of your heads. 
 
 See my eyes! Why do 
 you like them ? Are they 
 like yours ? Why not ? 
 
 If my eyes were set in like 
 yours, I should feel very 
 badly. 
 
GRASSHOPPER GREEN 49 
 
 See my feelers ! Where are they ? 
 
 They will be very long, by and by. Then I 
 shall be the envy of all my friends. 
 
 What did you say about wings ? You show 
 how little you know. It really makes me sad ! 
 
 No grasshopper has wings when he is first 
 born. 
 
 I have more legs than you. Count them and 
 tell me how many pairs. My legs have joints. 
 
 Look at my back legs. 
 
 They grow from my thighs. Are they long or 
 short ? 
 
 Let me just kick a bit to show you how strong 
 they are. There ! can you kick up over your 
 body like that ? 
 
 My body is made up of rings. Look at its end ! 
 What color am I ? 
 
 Soon I am going to jump out of my skin. 
 Can you do that ? 
 
 My old skin will be too small for me. I need a 
 new one as you need new clothes. 
 
 I don't quite like this place. I hope that kind 
 lady will let me out by and by. 
 
 Please tie up that dog. Dogs and cats are 
 sworn foes of grasshoppers. 
 
 Good-by. I want to hop now. 
 
XIX. — ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET 
 
 GREEN little vaulter in the sunny grass, 
 Catching your heart up at the feel of June — 
 Sole voice that 's heard amidst the lazy noon 
 When even the bees lag at the summoning brass ; 
 And you, warm little housekeeper, who class 
 With those who think the candles come too soon, 
 Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune 
 Nick the glad silent moments as they pass. 
 O sweet and tiny cousins that belong. 
 One to the fields, the other to the hearth. 
 Both have your sunshine ; both, though small, are strong 
 At your clear hearts ; and both seem given to earth 
 To ring in thoughtful ears this natural song, — 
 In doors and out, summer and winter, — Mirth. 
 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 
XX. — AN EARLY VISITOR 
 
 " The bluebird shifting his light load of song." 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 ONE bright day in the last of March, Miss 
 Merriam took her school for a walk. They 
 left the road behind and went into a field. 
 
 Everywhere from the dead brown grass the 
 new green blades were pushing up. 
 
 On the branches of the apple-trees funny little 
 gray woolly buds were swelling. They were like 
 mittens covering the dainty pink fingers of my 
 Lady Appletree. 
 
 The sky was a deep blue, with white baby 
 cloudlets floating over it. The air was warm and 
 sunny, for lovely Spring had really come. 
 
 The children ran around until they were tired. 
 Then they clustered about Miss Merriam, who 
 sat on a great rock. 
 
 She was showing them some queer green and 
 gray wrinkled patches. They clung to the rock 
 so tightly that it was hard to get them off without 
 tearing. 
 
 " Hush ! " said Miss Merriam. " Keep very 
 still." 
 
 Just then a sweet song came from overhead, 
 and they saw a flash of blue wings. It was the 
 first bluebird. 
 
52 
 
 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Over the bare fields soared the lovely stranger. 
 They could see his brovi^n breast and the patch of 
 white next to the tail. His wings and back were 
 bluer than the bluest sky. 
 
 His song trickled down to them like drops of 
 silver. Close behind came his mate. Four blue 
 
 wings dipping and flashing ! Two brown breasts 
 rising and falling ! They went to an old apple- 
 tree. 
 
 " Is this a good place, dearie-o, dearie-o ? " said 
 Mr. Bluebird. 
 
 " Nice tree ! nice tree ! " piped Mrs. Bluebird's 
 silver voice. 
 
 The children shouted ; they could keep still no 
 longer. Up and away flashed the blue wings ! 
 
AN EARLY VISITOR 53 
 
 " Dear, dear, dearie-o ! " came the sweet notes, 
 growing fainter and fainter. 
 
 " I wish we could have kept still longer," said 
 Tom. 
 
 " I think you did very well as it was," said Miss 
 Merriam. " It would be hard even for grown 
 people to keep still with such a lovely sight be- 
 fore them." 
 
 " We must put that down in our spring note- 
 books," said Paul. 
 
 " I hope you will be so gentle and kind that 
 the bluebirds will build in this field. They like 
 old apple-trees, but they are very shy. It is easy 
 to drive them away if we are rough and too 
 noisy." 
 
 " I feel so happy 'cause the birdies have come," 
 said Dolly. 
 
 " Let 's all take hold of hands and dance," pro- 
 posed Frida. 
 
 So they made a ring, and danced about Miss 
 Merriam. It was a pretty sight : thirty little chil- 
 dren dancing under the spring skies. 
 
 The warm sun shone down on rosy cheeks, 
 laughing eyes, and bright curls; on fluttering 
 ribbons and pretty white aprons. Then they 
 broke the ring and ran to Miss Merriam. 
 
 Poor Miss Merriam ! she got so many " bear 
 hugs," so many warm childish kisses ! 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird were resting at the 
 lower end of the field. 
 
54 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " How pretty that school looked ! " said Mrs. 
 Bluebird. " I almost wish we had not flown 
 away. I was not so very much afraid." 
 
 " My parents built in this field last year," said 
 Mr. Bluebird. "It was a good place. The chil- 
 dren were kind and gentle. Perhaps we could 
 not do better." 
 

 yi;/^ ///^M/'un.^:^ 
 
XXL — BIRD OF THE EARTH-BROWN 
 BREAST 
 
 " And wiled the bluebird to his whiff of song." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 WHEN Nature made the bluebird she wished 
 to make the sky and earth friends. So 
 she gave him the color of the one on his back, 
 and the hue of the other on his breast. She 
 ordered that his appearance in spring should tell 
 that the strife and war between earth and sky was 
 at an end. 
 
 He is the peace bringer ; in him the earth and 
 sky shake hands and are fast friends. He means 
 the furrow and the warmth ; he means all the 
 soft, wooing influences of the spring on the one 
 hand, and the retreating footsteps of winter on 
 the other. 
 
 In New York and in New England the sap 
 starts up in the sugar-maple the very day the 
 bluebird arrives, and sugar-making begins forth- 
 with. . . . 
 
 The bluebird is the first bit of color that cheers 
 our northern landscape. The other birds that 
 arrive about the same time — the sparrow, the 
 robin, the phoebe bird, are clad in neutral tints, 
 
56 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 gray, brown, or russet; but the bluebird brings 
 one of the primary hues, and the divinest of them 
 all. ... 
 
 The bluebird usually builds its nest in a hole 
 in a stump or stub, or in an old cavity dug out by 
 a woodpecker, when such can be had ; but its first 
 impulse seems to be to start in the world in much 
 
 more style, and the happy pair make a great show 
 of house hunting, about the farm buildings. Now 
 they think they will take a dove-cot, then they 
 will discuss a last year's swallow's-nest. 
 
 We hear them announce with much flourish 
 and flutter that they have taken the wren's house, 
 or the tenement of the purple martin. 
 
 Finally nature becomes too urgent, when all 
 this pretty make-believe ceases. Most of them 
 settle back upon the old family stumps and knot- 
 holes in remote fields and go to work in earnest. 
 
BIRD OF THE EARTH BROWN BREAST 57 
 
 With the bluebirds the male is useful as well 
 as ornamental. He is the gay champion and 
 escort of the female at all times. While she is 
 sitting he feeds her regularly. 
 
 It is very pretty to watch them building a nest. 
 The male is very active in hunting out a place 
 and exploring the boxes and cavities. He seems 
 to have no choice in the matter, and is anxious 
 only to please and encourage his mate — who 
 knows what will do and what will not. 
 
 After she has suited herself, away the two go 
 in search of material for the nest. The male acts 
 as guard, flying ahead and above the female. 
 
 She brings all the material and does all the 
 work of building. He looks on and encourages 
 her with gesture and song. 
 
 She enters the nest with her bit of dry grass or 
 straw, and having placed it to her notion, with- 
 draws and waits near by while he goes in and 
 looks it over. On coming out he exclaims very 
 plainly, " Excellent ! excellent ! " and away the two 
 go again for more material. 
 
 Adapted from John Burroughs. 
 
XXII. — A RACE WITH THE WIND 
 
 "-Oh wind ! a-blowing all day long, 
 Oh wind, that sings so loud a song ! " 
 
 Robert Louis Stevenson. 
 
 THE cuckoo clock sang its cheery note at half- 
 past nine, and Alice rose from her piano 
 like a free little bird. She put on her rubbers 
 and light coat, and pulled the red Tarn o' Shan- 
 ter over the brown hair. 
 
 North Wind was humming around the corner 
 of the house. 
 
 " Dear me ! Alice has on her cap to-day. I 
 should have had such fun tipping that felt sailor 
 over her nose ! " and North Wind gave a funny 
 groan. 
 
 Tom was on the lookout for his friend. 
 
 " Is n't this a jolly day ! " he cried. " I feel like 
 running. Let 's race with the wind." 
 
 " All right," said North Wind, " nothing I like 
 better ! Come on ! " 
 
 Down the road ran the children, the jolly wind 
 roaring with joy. First, he took them by a grove 
 of oak-trees. 
 
 " Tune up ! " he cried merrily, blowing through 
 the branches until every dry leaf sighed. 
 
 " What a sad noise they make ! " said Alice. 
 
A RACE WITH THE WIND 
 
 59 
 
 " They are the stiffest set," hummed North 
 Wind. " They hang on all winter ! They don't 
 know enough to drop like other leaves. But 
 your time will come soon — soon — s-o-o-n ! 
 You '11 go — go — g-o-o-o ! " 
 
 The next moment North Wind went whisking 
 
 over the meadows. Tom and Alice scrambled 
 through the bars. 
 
 " Wait ! " cried the alder and birch catkins ; 
 " come and see how we are stretching." 
 
 " I have put out my rosy-purple silken threads," 
 said the hazel. 
 
 " Listen to our sad story," sighed the water- 
 reeds. " Once a god lay by us. He breathed 
 
6o ALICE AND TOM 
 
 through us a wild, sweet song. He went away 
 and left us lonely and we have forgotten the song. 
 That is why we must sigh — sigh — forever." 
 
 Up among the pines went North Wind. How 
 he bent the great branches ! How he roared and 
 hummed through the slender needles ! 
 
 " It is like the ocean — I love it," said Alice, 
 stopping to listen. 
 
 " Yes, the sea, the sea ! the wide beautiful sea ; 
 we long for the sea ! We dream of it by night, 
 we sing of it by day. When shall we find it ? " 
 murmured the pines sadly. 
 
 " Come on ! come on ! " called the North Wind. 
 
 They ran down the hill and up another where 
 two windmills stood. The school-children called 
 them the General and the Captain. The General 
 pumped water up into the Club House, The 
 Captain did the same for Frida's home. 
 
 " I wonder why the Captain cries so ? " said 
 Tom, stopping short. 
 
 " Do you ask ? " whined the Captain. " Am I 
 not smaller than my neighbor ? Does he not 
 belong to a club house, and I to a private resi- 
 dence only ? " 
 
 " But you have a sweet little girl to love you," 
 said the General kindly. 
 
 " Come on / " called North Wind. 
 
 " I can't help it ! You ^now you look down on 
 me," replied the Captain bitterly. 
 
 " Come on ! I can't wait ! " 
 
A RACE WITH THE WIND 6 1 
 
 But Alice and Tom were looking for snail 
 shells under the chestnut leaves. 
 
 " I '11 go to Greenland and pull every little 
 polar bear's tail until he fairly howls ! " said 
 North Wind crossly, and away he flew. 
 
 " Why, Tom, where 's the Wind ? " said Alice 
 a moment later. 
 
 " I think he got tired waiting, and ran away 
 from us," said Tom laughingly. 
 
XXIII. —THE WHISTLER 
 
 HE came up over the hill 
 In the flush of the early morn, 
 And he blew his whistle shrill, 
 Till the blackbirds, down in the corn. 
 And the robins, all were still. 
 
 And the leaves began to lean. 
 
 And the little blades of grass, 
 And the lily garden queen 
 
 All eager to see him pass, — 
 He of the frolic mien. 
 
 They watched for his black-tossed hair. 
 
 And his peachy lips a-purse. 
 And his tan cheeks full and fair. 
 
 As he flung a flute-like verse 
 Into every nook of the air. 
 
 But never a trace could they find 
 
 Of his form, though they knew him near ; 
 
 And their bright eyes were not blind. 
 You will marvel not to hear 
 
 That the whistler was the wind. 
 
 Clinton Scollard. 
 
XXIV.— FAR IN THE WOODS 
 
 ' When beechen buds begin to swell, 
 
 And woods the bluebird's warble know, 
 The yellow violet's modest bell 
 
 Peeps from the last year's leaves below.'' 
 
 William Cullen Bryant. 
 
 'T was a happy little 
 party that met at the 
 Big Oak one May 
 afternoon. Miss 
 Merriam, Alice, 
 Tom, and Mollie 
 Dawson were going 
 to hunt for yellow 
 violets. 
 
 Of course Rags 
 went, and when' 
 Frisk Dawson 
 saw his friend, 
 he simply lifted 
 up his voice and 
 rent the air with his cries. 
 " I should like to know 
 if / am to be left out.?" 
 he demanded. The little dogs were 
 crazy with delight. They raced down 
 the road barking wildly. 
 
64 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Mrs. Chipmunk to her hus- 
 band, " I wish dogs had never been invented. 
 They do make me nervous with their loud 
 voices." 
 
 " Come down here, madam," grinned Rags ; 
 " a Httle shaking would improve your temper." 
 
 Mr. Chipmunk dropped an old nut on Rags's 
 head. 
 
 " Come up ' Aere, my friend," he said ; " let us 
 settle the matter in the right place, — in the 
 boughs of this old chestnut." 
 
 Rags trotted on, pretending not to hear. It 
 cut the little dog's heart to remember that he 
 could not climb a tree. 
 
 It was lovely in the woods- The young ferns 
 were unrolling their curl papers. They were 
 such funny, pinky, damp, rumpled things ! The 
 children gathered a few and wrapped them in 
 wet moss. 
 
 The maple twigs were tipped with red, and in 
 some places the path was rosy with the fallen 
 blossoms. 
 
 Through the faintly budding branches the 
 great, purple shoulders of the hills lifted them- 
 selves against the spring sky. The sunshine 
 stole down pleasantly, and far away bird-voices 
 were calling. 
 
 " I do love to be in the woods," said Alice 
 dreamily, looking up through the tracery of gray- 
 green. 
 
FAR IN THE WOODS 65 
 
 " So do I," said Mollie. " I always feel good in 
 the woods. Oh, Alice, let 's say ° Far in the 
 Woods.' " 
 
 " Far in the woods, the fresh green woods, in May, 
 Once sang a bird ; but all it found to say. 
 Was, ' Keep it ! keep it ! ' all the merry day. 
 
 " The bird ? I never saw it, no, not I ; 
 I followed, but it flitted far on high ; 
 And ' Keep it ! keep it ! ' Echo caught the cry. 
 
 " I was so glad as through the woods I went ! 
 
 And now I think that ' Keep it ! keep it ! ' meant, 
 ' Child, keep each happy thought that Heaven has sent.' " 
 
 Edith M. Thomas. 
 
 " Why, what is that ? " cried Tom. Faint and 
 far down the forest aisles came a sweet, coaxing 
 voice : " Keep it ! " 
 
 Mollie looked at Alice and the color deepened 
 in their cheeks. 
 
 " Keep it ! keep it ! " Nearer came the song. 
 
 " Keep it ! keep it ! ^ee/> it ! " nearer and faster. 
 
 Tom squeezed Miss Merriam's hand, but no 
 one spoke. 
 
 ^^ Keep it — keep it — k-e-e-p itf It was di- 
 rectly overhead, but they could not see the sing- 
 er's form. 
 
 " Keep it — keep it — k-e-ep it .' " 
 
 Away floated the song until it died in one deli- 
 cate note in the distance. The children drew a 
 long breath. 
 
 " Miss Merriam," said Tom solemnly, " we have 
 truly heard the ' keep it ' bird ! " 
 
66 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " And here are the yellow violets," exclaimed 
 Alice joyously. 
 
 They were springing beside the path, — the 
 tall stems with their great light-green, net-veined 
 leaves. 
 
 " Oh, see the darling, cuddling flower ! " cried 
 Alice, turning up the drooping golden face of 
 the violet. 
 
 " See the black lines on its throat ! " said Tom. 
 " I 'm so glad we came." 
 
 " Really, boys and girls are past finding out," 
 said Rags. " What a fuss they make over a 
 flower ! Now, if it were a fine, large rat, how 
 proudly would I lay such at my dear master's feet ! " 
 
 " I agree with you," replied Frisk. " A good- 
 sized bone is a thing of joy forever." 
 
 " But we must not tell where the yellow violets 
 are," went on- Rags ; " let us prove that we, too, 
 can keep a secret. Why, even that saucy bird 
 said, ' Keep it ! keep it ! ' " 
 
XXV. — MARY'S MEADOW 
 
 ' A pasture rolling west 
 Lies open to the sun, 
 Bright shod with primroses doth it run ; 
 And forty oaks be nigh, 
 Apart and face to face. 
 And cowbells all the morn 
 In the space." 
 
 Hrom " A Ballad of Kenelm." 
 
 Louise Imogen Guiney. 
 
 HAT red cheeks, 
 my Dolly!" said 
 Miss Merriam. 
 
 " I tried so hard 
 to make good gs" 
 replied the dear lit- 
 tle thing. 
 " They are good, Dolly." 
 A smile of joy rippled 
 over the small face. 
 
 " My children have all done 
 ■ well. I am very happy." 
 Such a company of twin- 
 kling smiles dancing over cheeks and lips ! 
 
 " You have done so well I will take you to 
 ' Mary's Meadow ' at recess." 
 
 " Oh-h-h ! " squealed twelve little voices. 
 
 It was not far to " Mary's Meadow." They 
 
68 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 went down Maple Road until the brook cut across 
 their path. 
 
 " Hear the water sing !. " said Miss Merriam, as 
 they stood on the bridge. " Listen ! is it not a 
 sweet little song ? What does it say ? " 
 
 The children smiled, but no one answered. 
 
 " I think it says, ' Ripple-dipple-bubble-ubble- 
 chink-chink ! ' " 
 
 " It does, I hear it ! " cried Owen, 
 
 " Look, children, Mr. Sparrow is going to take 
 a drink." 
 
 A small brown bird was standing on a stone, 
 looking about with his bright dark eyes. At last 
 he plunged his head down into the water and 
 splashed it up over his back. 
 
 " He 's havirig a bath ! " squealed the small 
 voices. 
 
 Birdie was frightened and flew away, although 
 Constance called after him, " Come back, birdie ! 
 Do come back ! " 
 
 " Never mind, children ! See where the forget- 
 me-nots are coming up under the great willows." 
 
 " I don't see the ' darling eyes of blue,' " said 
 Isabel. 
 
 " Oh, it 's not time yet : only the leaves are up. 
 By and by we shall see the sweet little blue eyes." 
 
 " I will get you a whole bushel. Miss Merriam, 
 when they come," said Owen eagerly. 
 
 " I '11 get you the whole world full!" cried Don- 
 ald, not to be outdone. 
 
mary's meadow 6g 
 
 " Thank you, my dear children. Now we must 
 go on." 
 
 At the bars the children wriggled through like 
 so many kittens. Some rolled under, Miss Mer- 
 riam laughing to see them. 
 
 " Look, children ! see what I 've found." 
 
 It was a patch of ground crowded full with 
 tiny blossoms. Each stood up bravely, on its 
 yellow, thread-like stem. Each one had a yellow 
 centre with four bluish-white points or petals 
 about it. 
 
 " These are eyebrights cuddled together. They 
 like to grow that way." 
 
 " It 's like a school of children," said Bessie. 
 
 They found half a dozen patches, one, only, as 
 large as a handkerchief. Close to the ground 
 were short-stemmed violets, blue as the sky, 
 peeping out from their broad green leaves. 
 
 Hal found a wee, yellow flower with five petals. 
 " Is it a baby buttercup ? " he inquired. 
 
 " No, it is a cinquefoil," replied Miss Merriam. 
 
 " I 'm 'fraid I shan't 'member that," said Hal, 
 shaking his sunny locks. 
 
 Just then Isabel called them to see a rock, 
 with tiny white flowers growing from its crevices. 
 Each had a golden heart and a fuzzy red stem. 
 
 " That is ' saxifrage,' " explained Miss Mer- 
 riam. " Oh Donald, what have you ? " 
 
 " I found it in some bushes near the wall," Don- 
 ald replied proudly ; " it is a Mayflower." 
 
70 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " What a long stem ! " 
 
 " See how it bends over ! " 
 
 " It has one pink cheek." 
 
 " It 's Hke a fairy bell." 
 
 " We call it ' anemone ' or ' windflower.' Now, 
 children, we must go. Do you see the eyebrights 
 I have taken up on this piece of turf ? We will 
 water them every day, and they will keep a long 
 time for us." 
 
 Just then Hal spied a big turtle. " Can't we 
 carry him to school and tame him V he inquired. 
 
 " I 'm afraid he would be homesick, dear." 
 
 Hal looked so unhappy that Miss Merriam 
 added quickly : 
 
 " You may keep him, if you 11 let him go after 
 school." 
 
 So Hal ran along, clasping his treasure. But in 
 a moment Mr. Turtle snapped him sharply. Hal 
 let him drop with a cry. 
 
 " His toenails are too sharp," he sobbed, the 
 tears rolling down his face. 
 
 " Never mind, dear boy. You would n't like it 
 if a big giant should try to carry you away, 
 would you ? " 
 
 " It 's lovely in ' Mary's Meadow.' May we 
 come again to-morrow } " 
 
 " We will come again soon, my little children." 
 
XXVI. — A BIRTHDAY GIRL 
 
 ' And all voices that address her 
 Soften, sleeken every word, 
 As if speaking to a bird. 
 
 ' And all fancies yearn to cover 
 
 The hard earth whereon she passes, 
 With the thymy-scented grasses. 
 
 " And all hearts do pray, ' God love her ! ' 
 
 Ay, and always, in good sooth, 
 
 We may all be sure he doth." 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 OOD morning, Alice," said 
 the sun, peeping through 
 the windows. 
 
 " Good morning," mewed 
 Prettytoes, with a wet, lov- 
 ing kiss. 
 
 " Good morning, my dear 
 child," said mother, com- 
 ing to greet her Birthday Girl. 
 
 Eight golden daffodils in a pale- 
 green glass nodded at Alice's plate. 
 On the right lay a new book, with 
 " In Sunshine Land " on the cover. 
 
72 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 A fine bicycle leaned against her chair. Do you 
 wonder that Alice was too happy to eat ? 
 
 " Did you like my present ? " was Tom's first 
 question, as they started for school. " I bought 
 it with my own money." 
 
 " How good you are, Tom ! " said Alice grate- 
 fully. " I love the ' Sunshine ' book." 
 
 " Come, my dear Birthday Girl," said Miss 
 Merriam at school, holding out a pink, sweet 
 spray. " Let me pin this on. Here 's one for 
 you, Tom." 
 
 Then Alice saw that every pupil wore arbutus. 
 What a glad throb of joy came as the children 
 sang ! — 
 
 " Oh, a happy new year to our little friend, 
 Our little friend so dear." 
 
 Alice, as queen of the day, chose the songs, 
 games, and verses. She also gave out books, pen- 
 cils, and papers. 
 
 The time passed quickly and happily. 
 
 At three o'clock eighteen children met Miss 
 Merriam at the Great Oak. They were to walk to 
 the Glen, and on their return take tea with Alice. 
 
 Roy brought his bugle and some of the other 
 boys their bows and arrows. They had been 
 reading " Robin Hood," and liked playing at 
 archers in the " merry greenwood." 
 
 " I hope they won't shoot the birdies," whis- 
 pered troubled little Frida to Miss Merriam. 
 
A BIRTHDAY GIRL 73 
 
 " They are not likely to hit anything," said her 
 friend, comfortingly. 
 
 After a half-mile walk among the pines, an old 
 quarry was reached. Leaping down from stair 
 to stair in the ledges came a little brook, child 
 of the spring rains. 
 
 Miss Merriam let them throw stones in the 
 pools that had formed in the hollows of the rocks. 
 Polly-Pod or Horace Burt slipped in, and wet one 
 leg half way to the knee. 
 
 " I don't care," said Polly- Pod stoutly, " I like 
 to be wet." 
 
 " Be ponies," said Miss Merriam, " that will 
 help it dry." 
 
 So the frisky children pranced along the pine- 
 needles, and some even got down and rolled. 
 
 Suddenly the trees ended, and they were in a 
 lonely little glen folded about by the hills. To the 
 right rose the bold shoulder of Hancock Hill, out- 
 lined in dark blue. It quite overhung them, and 
 the children were awed by its wild, savage beauty. 
 
 In the bright, ^reen meadow where they stood 
 a little brook ran, — a famous trout stream. The 
 children raced away to look in the laughing 
 waters. Shouts of joy soon told that the first 
 pink spires of the arethusa had been found. 
 
 Mr. Rolf, the one dweller in the Glen, came to 
 meet them. His kind face grew very bright as 
 Alice danced forward. 
 
 "Good afternoon, Mr. Rolf," said the little 
 
74 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 maid. " It 's my birthday, — I'm eight ! That 's 
 why we 're here. Oh ! how is Sweethps ? " 
 
 " I am very glad to see you, Miss AHce," said 
 Mr. Rolf, lifting his hat. " Sweetlipswill be glad, 
 too. She is feeding below the house — and with 
 something to show you." 
 
 " Miss Merriam — children — all come ! " cried 
 Alice. " Sweetlips has something to show us. I 
 know — I know ! " 
 
 Away fled the children to find Sweetlips. In 
 front of the house was tied a pretty red and white 
 cow, and close to her stood a funny little calf. 
 
 II 
 
 " A bossy ! a bossy ! " exclaimed the children. 
 " What long legs ! What a queer bossy ! " 
 
 The baby cow looked very much disturbed, and 
 began to prance on her long, unsteady legs. 
 
 ," Gently ! gently ! " warned Miss Merriam. 
 " See how the poor baby trembles, she is so 
 afraid." 
 
 The children patted Sweetlips, and the friendly 
 creature stood and looked at them with her large, 
 kind eyes. 
 
 " That bossy has a red bonnet and cape on," 
 said Mollie. 
 
 Every one shouted. But the baby was indeed 
 strangely marked. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to name the calf," 
 said Mr. Rolf to Alice. 
 
A BIRTHDAY GIRL 75 
 
 " Oh ! thank you ! I think Tippytoes would be 
 a good name." 
 
 " So it shall be," said Mr. Rolf heartily. 
 
 Just then Roy blew a tremendous blast on his 
 bugle. Poor Tippytoes kicked up her heels in a 
 fright, and started across the field. 
 
 " We are making poor Sweetlips and her baby 
 very unhappy," said Miss Merriam. " Let us go 
 away to Apple-Tree House." 
 
 In the orchard were some charming old trees, 
 just right to climb. They had low branches and 
 broad limbs, and were full of delightful nooks 
 and corners. 
 
 The children scrambled up to their pet places 
 in a twinkling, Miss Merriam with them. They 
 told stories, laughed and sang, until Mr. Rolf 
 thought the air full of little birds. 
 
 By and by they slid down and ran to get a 
 drink from the old well, with its long sweep. 
 They walked on the fence, which was, as Daisy 
 said, " such a nice, safe fence to walk on ! " 
 
 They peeped at the speckled hens and the 
 sober old horse. They rolled down the grassy 
 slope, and then picked violets and buttercups to 
 adorn their hats. Then Mr. Rolf invited them 
 in to see his cases of butterflies and moths. 
 
 After this the boys found four kittens in the 
 shed, and poor Miss Merriam had hard work to 
 collect her flock. At last they were in the woods 
 once more on their homeward way. 
 
76 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " It 's raining," said Percy suddenly. 
 
 The sky had grown dark, and big drops pattered 
 down. 
 
 " Come in under the hemlocks," said Miss Mer- 
 riam. 
 
 The children crept under the low, spreading 
 boughs which closed like a roof above them. They 
 could hear the patter of the drops overhead, — 
 the click and fall of the elfin hoofs of the rain 
 steeds, — but not a drop came through. 
 
 The little ants foraging among the pine and 
 hemlock needles were very much surprised at 
 these newcomers. A bird whose nest was 
 down low brooded her treasures with a trembling 
 heart. 
 
 But the rain soon ceased and the sun shone 
 out again. The children crept from their hiding- 
 places to see a glorious rainbow shining through 
 the trees. 
 
 At Alice's home, Mrs. Pryor met and welcomed 
 them at the door. After hands and faces had 
 been washed, and tumbled locks smoothed, they 
 were called to the dining-room. 
 
 Oh the joys of that feast ! They had birth- 
 day cake, sandwiches, and wee biscuits ; tarts, 
 animal crackers, ice-cream, lemon jelly, and glasses 
 of milk and cocoa. A horn of candy at each plate 
 completed this dainty supper. 
 
 At last Alice was alone in her own room. 
 Sounds of music came stealing from the garden. 
 
A BIRTHDAY GIRL 77 
 
 Some one was playing a guitar and singing these 
 words : — 
 
 Good-night, my sweet I 
 Rest, tired feet. 
 The shadows creep, 
 The wee stars peep ; 
 The moon looks from a cloudlet fold. 
 Sleep, little girl with the heart of gold, 
 Good-night ! 
 
 The south wind sighs, 
 Close, weary eyes ! 
 In cosy nest 
 Find sweetest rest ; 
 
 Sleep till the night grows wan and old; 
 Greet the young day, Heart of Gold. 
 Good-night I 
 
 " Dear Uncle Phil ! he always thinks of such 
 nice things," mused Alice. " I 'm so happy — 
 and — sleepy. Can I keep awake until mother 
 comes ? I " — 
 
 The moonbeams stole into the little white room 
 and kissed the quiet form. Down the garden 
 walk tinkled the music, growing fainter and 
 fainter. 
 
 " Good-night ! " breathed the last sweet note. 
 
XXVII. — BLOSSOMING TIME 
 
 " Blow, winds ! and waft through all the rooms 
 The snowflakes of the cherry-blooms ! 
 Blow, winds ! and bend within my reach 
 The fiery blossoms of the peach ! " 
 
 t- Henry W. Longfellow. 
 
 FEEL so good to-day," 
 said Alice, skipping up 
 and down until every 
 stray lock bobbed. 
 
 " I feel — just com- 
 mon," remarked Tom, 
 taking careful aim at 
 a big robin gravely 
 promenading on Mr. 
 Ellis's lawn. 
 
 "Don't, Tom ! " 
 cried the little girl 
 sharply. 
 
 Tom's hand 
 dropped, and a flush crept 
 >over his brown face. 
 
 " How can you do so, 
 when you say you love the 
 birds .? " 
 " I do like the birds, and I don't want to hurt 
 them," said Tom stoutly. 
 
BLOSSOMING TIME 79 
 
 " Why, Tom Bennett ! you were all ready to 
 throw that stone." 
 
 " Well, I did n't think. I don't know why it 
 is," said Tom dolefully, " but the minute you see 
 something alive, your hand wants to hit it before 
 you know -what you are about. Truly and hon- 
 estly, Alice, if you were a boy you would know 
 just how it is." 
 
 " Yes," barked Rags, " if you were a boy or a 
 dog, you would understand just what Tom and I 
 mean." 
 
 Alice held her head a trifle higher. 
 
 " I 'm afraid, Tom," she said at last, coldly, " that 
 you are getting to be just like some other boys." 
 
 " Well, I don't want to be like a girl," muttered 
 Tom crossly ; " boys are as good as girls any day." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said a cheery voice ; " my Alice 
 and Tom are surely not quarreling } " 
 
 Miss Merriam looked down upon her two sulky 
 children with amused eyes. 
 
 " I did n't like what Tom did," said Alice 
 slowly. 
 
 " Alice thought I was mean," mumbled Tom. 
 
 " Tell me about it," said their teacher coax- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Yes, do explain," begged Rags ; " Miss Mer- 
 riam is all that we dogs admire. Her lap is 
 a cosy nest for an after-dinner nap, and I have 
 never found a spot more convenient for extra 
 bones than her largest pansy-bed. 
 
8o ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Often have I dined royally from her own 
 table. The rugs in her parlor are ideal napkins, 
 I assure you. She is a good companion on a 
 walk, and we entirely agree on the subject of gray 
 squirrels and muskrats. Oh, no, do not shame 
 this dear and admirable Miss Merriam." 
 
 " You must excuse Tom," said Miss Merriam 
 after she had heard the recital. " Is he not at 
 heart a good, kind boy ? We all do wrong things 
 for lack of thought. Come, Alice, have you never 
 acted hastily yourself .? " 
 
 Tom walked along, winking hard to keep the 
 tears back. Alice stole a little glance at him and 
 her heart melted. 
 
 " You are not mean, Tom," she said quickly. 
 " I 'm sorry I said so. You 're the nicest, kindest 
 boy I know." 
 
 • " That is right," barked Rags joyfully. " Had 
 you not forgiven my master, much as I love you, 
 my dearest Alice, I should have been compelled to 
 turn my back upon you." 
 
 " Now let us talk of pleasanter subjects," said 
 Miss Merriam. " Colonel Appleton has invited 
 the grammar classes and your division to see his 
 orchard in bloom." 
 
 " Oh, hurrah ! " cried Tom. 
 
 " I 'm so glad ! " said Alice. " Colonel Apple- 
 ton's parties are the very nicest things that happen 
 in this town." 
 
 " Alice, I '11 race you to the schoolhouse gate. 
 
BLOSSOMING TIME 8 1 
 
 Please excuse us, Miss Merriam, but we can't 
 keep still with such a treat ahead." 
 
 " Run along, dears," said Miss Merriam in 
 ready sympathy. 
 
 The two skipped away, and Rags followed in 
 joyful excitement. His dog-heart realized that 
 the cloud had passed. 
 
 II 
 
 The children found great branches of flower- 
 ing fruit trees in their various school - rooms. 
 They drew or painted them, and each grade had 
 its selected nature-lesson from these same beauti- 
 ful subjects. 
 
 Just before school closed, Mr. Minot called 
 them together and showed a collection of colored 
 Japanese photographs. They were views of cherry 
 or peach orchards with the happy, child-like people 
 enjoying themselves under the branches. 
 
 At three the children came together again for 
 their walk to Colonel Appleton's. At the gate of 
 the orchard they paused a moment, and looked 
 at the great trees, white and rosy with bloom, 
 which towered above the hedge. 
 
 The green door opened and Shuji, Colonel 
 Appleton's Japanese servant, appeared in the full 
 costume of his native land. Making a low bow, 
 with hands clasped tightly together, Shuji wel- 
 comed them in Japanese, and Colonel Appleton 
 repeated his words in English. 
 
82 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " A thousand welcomes to you. May your joys 
 be as many and as fragrant as these blossoms, 
 only may they not fade so quickly ! " 
 
 The orchard covered several acres, and was sur- 
 rounded by a high buckthorn hedge. The grass 
 was a delicate green, studded with lilies of the 
 valley, violets, and dandelions. The peach trees 
 glowed as with fire, and the plum and cherry 
 trees showered down soft, white petals with every 
 wind. 
 
 The children stood silent ; they had never be- 
 fore realized how much beauty lay in a blossom- 
 ing orchard. As they stood there, they became 
 aware of a gentle chorus in the branches. 
 
 " Hush ! " said Mr. Minot.; •' listen to the sing- 
 ing trees ! What do they say, Lesley ? " 
 
 Lesley Holmes, a bright-faced girl of twelve, 
 stepped forward. 
 
 THE SINGING TREES 
 
 " White are the singing trees. 
 And every breath of the breeze 
 Scatters a drift of bloom 
 And a honey-sweet perfume ; 
 While above and all around 
 Is a gentle murmuring sound. 
 In this music so low and sweet 
 Labor and pleasure meet ; 
 Every small minstrel goes home 
 And adds to the great yellow comb, 
 Stored for the mid-winter feast, 
 When the gift of the flowers has ceased. 
 Hark to the singing tree-s 
 So full of blossoms and bees." 
 
 Edith M. Thomas. 
 
BLOSSOMING TIME 83 
 
 Just then three dear little Japanese maidens 
 advanced, one in bright rose and silver, one in 
 blue and gold, and the third in primrose-yellow 
 and green. 
 
 They were only Ruth, Polly, and Barbara as 
 they had appeared at a party the past winter. 
 But out in the blossoming orchard they seemed 
 like figures from another world. 
 
 They sang a little Japanese song that Colonel 
 Appleton had put into English for them. It was 
 about a cherry blossom that loved the south wind 
 only too well ; for he blew her petals to the four 
 corners of the earth. 
 
 Ill 
 
 I cannot begin to tell you what pleasure Colo- 
 nel Appleton's orchard festival gave the children. 
 Their kind friend pointed out the more famous 
 trees, and explained the process of grafting, and 
 how different varieties of fruit could be obtained. 
 
 He also explained how trees became wild, and 
 how wild trees could be improved. He told them 
 how to care for the trees and keep them free from 
 insects. 
 
 Then he led them to an open space where rows 
 of beehives stood. They saw the little brown- 
 jacketed workers fly home heavy with nectar from 
 the apple blossoms, and with pollen on breast and 
 thighs. 
 
 Then they looked at a collection of large pho- 
 
84 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 tographs in the library. Colonel Appleton was a 
 great lover of trees, and this collection showed 
 many of the famous trees of the world. 
 
 There was our own Washington Elm at Cam- 
 bridge, and the Domesday Oak on the river 
 Wye in old England. There were the gigantic 
 redwood trees in California, and the renowned 
 beeches of Denmark and Burnham. 
 
 They saw the magnificent double row of horse- 
 chestnuts in Bushey Park, near Hampton Court 
 Palace, and many an old oak studded with the 
 mistletoe of the Druids. 
 
 There were also the trees of the tropics, — great 
 banyans, palms, and ferns, and trees cut in curious 
 shapes which had adorned the gardens of kings. 
 
 Then the children were invited to a stone ter- 
 race overlooking the hills, where a table was 
 spread and Shuji handed about slices of bread 
 and honey, sponge cake, and glasses of milk and 
 of lemonade. After luncheon, their kind old 
 friend gave each child a delightful little book 
 by John Burroughs, called " Birds and Bees." 
 
 " Three cheers for Colonel Appleton and the 
 orchard ! " shouted Guy Weld as they parted from 
 their host. And very heartily rang the cheers 
 through the purple twilight. 
 
XXVIII. — DECORATION DAY 
 
 " How sleep the brave who sink to rest, 
 By all their country's wishes blest ! 
 When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, 
 Returns to deck their hallowed mould, 
 She there shall dress a sweeter sod 
 Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. 
 
 " By fairy hands their knell is rung, 
 By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; 
 There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, 
 To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; 
 And Freedom shall a while repair 
 To dwell a weeping hermit there." 
 
 William Collins. 
 
 IT was three o'clock on Decoration Day. 
 Alice, Tom, and Rags had climbed Eagle 
 Hill with Dr. Lester, and sat looking over the 
 wide landscape. 
 
 The doctor was a dear old man, with a thin 
 face and delicate form. Alice's mother had told 
 her that in all the long years since the war, he 
 had never known one day without pain. Yet 
 he never complained. He was always full of fun, 
 always laughing and making jokes, always inter- 
 ested in others. The children loved that kind 
 face, with its deep brown eyes and silver locks. 
 
 " Well, Tom," said their friend, " what are you 
 going to be when you are a man } " 
 
86 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " I used to think I should be an engineer, I Hke 
 machinery so much. But now I 've almost decided 
 to be a soldier. It 's splendid to wear a uniform, 
 and charge on the foe, and help save your coun- 
 try." 
 
 " Tom," said Dr. Lester very quietly, " don't 
 get the idea that the only way to serve your coun- 
 try is to enter the army." 
 
 " Why, don't you think it 's the best thing in 
 the world to be a soldier ? " 
 
 " And kill and destroy, and lay waste miles and 
 miles of country ? Think of all the sorrow, Tom ; 
 all the mothers who lose their sons, all the chil- 
 dren who cry for their dead fathers." 
 
 " Oh, I did n't know you felt i^Aai way about 
 it," murmured Tom, very much shocked. 
 
 " War, dear Tom, is the most awful thing that 
 can befall a country. We should do everything 
 we can to prevent it. 
 
 " But sometimes it becomes a God-given duty 
 to fight. It is better to fight than to lose our 
 freedom. That is what the Revolutionary war 
 meant. Honor bids us fight rather than let a 
 great wrong go on. 
 
 " But there is one thing to remember, Tom. 
 We are one country, always to stand united ' lest 
 divided we fall.' Every true American will pro- 
 tect his country even with his life-blood. 
 
 " You may not be asked to do that, Tom, but 
 you may choose even a better way." 
 
DECORATION DAY 87 
 
 " How ? " asked the boy's eager, shining eyes. 
 
 " You can be the very best and manUest kind 
 of boy. You can strive to do right in your home 
 and school. That is always the beginning. Then, 
 when you go out in the world, you can be fair 
 and kind in your dealings with others. 
 
 " If you see a wrong, you can help right it. 
 You can help make better laws, and see that they 
 are carried out. If every one would do thus, we 
 should never need wars to settle disputes." 
 
 Alice and Tom long remembered these words. 
 
 " I should like to tell you about the colonel of 
 my regiment," continued the doctor. " His name 
 was Robert G. Shaw. 
 
 " He was a young man, Tom, and full of the 
 love of life. He was fond of books, pictures, and 
 travel. He loved quiet hours of study, and above 
 all, he valued the time he spent with his friends. 
 
 " Now this young man feared and hated war. 
 Yet, when the time came, he was ready for his 
 duty. He did a task that no one else was willing 
 to undertake. He trained a regiment of negroes 
 into soldiers. For the first time, the black man 
 was made a man like other men. 
 
 " In his last fight he led his soldiers into the 
 very jaws of death, and he fell with his face to 
 the foe. It was a glorious death! I could never 
 wish you to follow a truer hero than our Colonel 
 Shaw. I knew him from his boyhood, — -brave, 
 honest, cheerful, patient, pure, loving." 
 
88 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Just then the distant notes of the band came 
 stealing up from the valley. The soldiers were 
 going home, and as they marched they sang — 
 
 " Glory ! glory hallelujah ! 
 His soul is marching on." 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor solemnly, " his soul is 
 marching on. Children, do you like poetry .? 
 Here is something Lowell wrote for his friend 
 Shaw : — 
 
 " Brave, good, and true, 
 I see him stand before me now, 
 And read again on that young brow, 
 Where every hope was new, 
 
 How sweet were life ! Yet, by the mouth firm-set, 
 And look made up for Duty's utmost debt, 
 I could divine he knew 
 
 That death within the sulphurous hostile lines : 
 Right in the van. 
 
 On the red rampart's slippery swell. 
 With heart that beat a charge, he fell 
 Foeward, as fits a man." 
 
 When a year from the next July came, Alice 
 and Tom stood before the memorial to Colonel 
 Shaw on Boston Common. They gazed up in 
 awe at the fine, resolute face with its onward look. 
 
 Their eyes filled with tears as they saw the 
 patient, loving black men loyally plodding after. 
 Reverently they laid their flowers on the granite 
 beneath the bronze. 
 
 Tom looked up at the noble young face. He 
 remembered his friend's words, and his heart said, 
 " I will — I will try to be just such a man." 
 
XXIX. — CHERRY RIPE 
 
 " In the green leaves overhead 
 
 Little lights were burning red ; 
 
 Looking up, it seemed that I 
 
 Saw the stars in fairy sky 
 
 Glistening the leaves among, 
 
 Lanterns by the pixies hung; 
 
 But I heard a song-bird pipe, 
 ' Cherry ripe I ' and ' Cherry ripe ! ' " 
 
 Frank Dempster Sherman. 
 
 nmb — ^lOM came across 
 ■ « the floor, blush- 
 ing, at Miss Mer- 
 riam's call, while 
 some of the 
 other children 
 looked confused. 
 
 It was one of those days 
 when everything was going 
 wrong. It had grown 
 suddenly hot, the air 
 was close and lifeless, 
 and no one was ready 
 for the change. 
 Miss Merriam felt it herself, 
 and could not blame her rest- 
 less children. Bessie kept bobbing up and down, 
 mopping her little red face with a very dingy 
 handkerchief. 
 
go ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " I 'm SO hot," she said piteously, " my clothes 
 stick to me, and I stick to my seat." 
 
 Some of the children had made fans, and were 
 using them with energy. AHce had wound her 
 long braids in a knob, secured by her drawing- 
 pencil. Every time the little girl moved, the pen- 
 cil bobbed. 
 
 This pleased Donald so much that he laughed 
 aloud. No one could hear Donald's laugh and 
 be cross. Miss Merriam said it was like a bobo- 
 link's voice and a meadow brook's ripple, twisted 
 in one silver skein of song. 
 
 And now Tom was standing there, and every 
 one felt a little strange. 
 
 " What have you in your mouth, Tom .? " 
 
 " Cherries," mumbled the lad. 
 
 " Let me see them, please." 
 
 Tom at once took out a much-chewed and un- 
 pleasant-looking little mass. He felt ashamed as 
 he displayed this sorry sight to his teacher's gaze. 
 
 "Thank you, Tom;- now please put it in the 
 basket. Children, I will leave the room for a 
 moment. While I am gone, Tom may pass 
 the basket. I expect every cherry to be put in 
 there. Call me, Tom, when all the cherries are 
 collected." 
 
 Miss Merriam was in the anteroom nearly five 
 minutes when Tom appeared. 
 
 " I have every one," he said, while his dark 
 eyes begged mutely for pardon. 
 
CHERRY RIPE 9 1 
 
 The children were very quiet and sober when 
 their teacher returned. Owen was sobbing, for 
 he did not like to give up his cherries. 
 
 " Thank you, children," said Miss Merriam in 
 her usual pleasant tones. " Now may I ask why 
 you eat the cherries before they are ripe ? " 
 
 " We like green things," at last ventured one 
 child. 
 
 " Is the hard, bitter fruit, then, better than the 
 soft, juicy cherries we shall have very soon ? " 
 
 The children looked a little foolish, but were 
 silent. 
 
 " I don't see why it is," burst out Percy frankly, 
 " but you want the green fruit the minute it is big 
 enough to bite." 
 
 " I felt that way when I was very small," said 
 Miss Merriam calmly. " A baby, you know, 
 wants to put everything into its mouth. 
 
 " But when we are older we usually get over 
 caring for such things. You are old enough now 
 to realize that unripe fruit cannot be safely eaten. 
 It is giving your stomachs a giant's task. This 
 is as unfair as if I should expect my primary chil- 
 dren to do high school work. Can you not let 
 unripe fruit alone and have the patience to wait ? 
 
 " Please remember this : no unripe fruit is to 
 be brought to school unless I ask for it. 
 
 " Now, children dear, let us make the best of 
 this hot day. If we are only busy the time will 
 pass before we know it. 
 
92 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " We will eat our luncheon out of doors, and 
 the last hour you may have your paint-boxes." 
 
 The children went to work briskly. No day 
 is too hot to take away the joy a paint-box may 
 bring. 
 
 II 
 
 It was as Miss Merriam said. Not many days 
 passed before the cherries were ready to eat. 
 The sun kissed the little globes hanging between 
 the green leaf clusters. It woke to life the sweet 
 juices, and the cherries blushed redder and redder. 
 
 One morning Colonel Appleton's Shuji came 
 to school with a great basket of cherries. He 
 also brought a bough loaded with the fruit. Miss 
 Merriam hung this over the blackboard where all 
 could see. 
 
 The children's mouths watered; they knew a 
 feast was in store as well as a lesson. 
 
 " What makes the cherry ? " was the first ques- 
 tion. 
 
 No one answered until another was asked. 
 
 " What makes the apple ? " 
 
 " The little part that holds the seeds swells 
 bigger and bigger, and that makes the apple," 
 said Mabel. 
 
 " It is the same with the cherry. But what be- 
 comes of the pretty, rosy dress of the apple 
 blossom ? " 
 
 " It drops off ; the wind carries it away." 
 
CHERRY RIPE 93 
 
 " What do you find at one end of an apple ? " 
 
 " The stem." 
 
 " At the other end ? " 
 
 " You find a hollow — a dimple we called it — 
 and some little dried leaves." 
 
 " The dried leaves were a part of the blossom 
 that did not fall off like the petals. Don't you 
 remember we called it the calyx, or little cup ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, Miss Merriam ; and when we made 
 our clay apples we stuck a clove in at that end." 
 
 " Do you find the calyx left in your cherries ? " 
 
 The children thought not. 
 
 " No. The cherry calyx is not so firmly at- 
 tached as the apple calyx. It soon dries up and 
 falls away. Frida, what can you tell me about 
 your cherry ? " 
 
 " It has a light green stem about two inches 
 long. The cherries grow in twos and threes." 
 
 " It has a curved surface," said Agnes, " but 
 is n't quite a sphere. White cherries bulge out a 
 good deal on two opposite sides." 
 
 " The skin is glossy," said Tom. " These 
 cherries are a light red. I 've seen them dark red 
 and almost black." 
 
 " Can you peel the cherry ? " 
 
 " Not very well ; the pulp would come off with 
 the skin." 
 
 " Tell us about the inside, Norman." 
 
 " It is soft ; we call it pulp. It is full of sweet 
 juice. There is a hard stone inside." 
 
94 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " What is in the stone ? " 
 
 " There is meat inside. I 've cracked the stones 
 open a good many times." 
 
 " What is the meat, Amy ? " 
 
 " It 's the seed, is n't it. Miss Merriam ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear ; the mother tree has provided 
 a safe, warm nest for her little seed-children." 
 
 " I don't see how the seed is ever going to get 
 out. It looks as if the mother-tree planned to 
 keep her children hidden." 
 
 " It does indeed, Polly ; but why does the tree 
 surround this seed with such rich juicy pulp ? 
 Does it not say, ' Do eat me and set the stone 
 free ' ? Then, when the stone lies on the ground 
 and the sun and rain do their will, the plant-baby 
 finds the way out from its dark cradle with the 
 hard walls. 
 
 " You may all eat your cherries, and take out 
 the stones carefully. Is there anything interest- 
 ing about the stone ? " 
 
 " It has a little ridge running around it." 
 
 " See what I have on the end of my watch- 
 chain, children." 
 
 " Why, it 's a little basket ! " 
 
 "Yes, and made from a cherry-stone. My 
 grandfather's hired man carved it for me years 
 ago, when I was a child." 
 
 " I don't see how he could do it," said Alice in 
 great awe. 
 
 " Well, it did take a sharp knife, great patience, 
 
CHERRY RIPE 95 
 
 and much skill. What other fruits have a stone 
 in the centre ? " 
 
 Alice named the plum, Guy the peach, and 
 Hazel the olive. 
 
 Miss Merriam asked them in what points these 
 fruits differed from the cherry. Here are some 
 of the questions she put on the blackboard. Can 
 you answer them ? 
 
 In what is the cherry like the peach and plum ? 
 
 How does it differ ? 
 
 How does the cherry-skin differ from the peach- 
 skin ? 
 
 Why are the plum and cherry skins more nearly 
 alike ? 
 
 Is there any difference in the pulp of the three ? 
 
 " How many of you like cherries ? " 
 
 Every hand was raised. 
 
 " I know some one who likes the cherries even 
 better than you do." 
 
 " Oh ! the robins ! the robins ! " 
 
 " Yes ; and of all cherry-eaters I think the 
 robins deserve their share most. Have you any 
 idea how many insects or worms a young robin 
 will eat in a day ? " 
 
 " Perhaps twenty," ventured Alice. 
 
 " I have read of a man who watched a nest from 
 nine in the morning until five at night. The 
 
96 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 parents brought over three hundred worms to the 
 little ones in that time." 
 
 " If all the birds do as well, I think they earn 
 the few cherries they take," said Guy warmly. 
 
 " I think so, too, and they should be more than 
 welcome to their feast. I want to read you this 
 story from John Burroughs : — 
 
 " ' One season, to protect my early cherries, I 
 placed a large stuffed owl amid the branches of a 
 tree. Such a racket as there instantly began 
 about my grounds is not pleasant to think upon. 
 The orioles and robins fairly '' shrieked out their 
 affright." The news instantly spread in every 
 direction, and apparently every bird in town came 
 to see that owl in the cherry-tree, so that I lost 
 more fruit than if I had left the owl in-doors. 
 
 " ' With craning necks and horrified looks the 
 birds alighted upon the branches, and between 
 their screams each one would snatch off a cherry, 
 as if the act was some relief to their outraged 
 feelings.' " 
 
 " When a young bird falls from its nest, the 
 other birds collect and make a terrible fuss," said 
 Horace Burt. " If you climb up and put the bird 
 back the rest calm down, and soon go away." 
 
 " Do you see this great basket of ripe cherries.? 
 We will divide them at luncheon. Did n't it pay 
 to wait, Tom ? " 
 
 " Yes, Miss Merriam," said Tom, with a red 
 face, though his eyes twinkled. 
 
XXX. —WHITE BIRCH AND WILD RASP- 
 BERRIES. 
 
 " The birch, most shy and lady-like of trees.'' 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 ALICE and Tom were having a vaulting 
 match out on the avenue. Tom was be- 
 ginning to get cross at his repeated failures, when 
 a jolly voice cried — 
 
 " Hi ! there ! " 
 
 Both children turned as Uncle Phil came 
 toward them on his bicycle. 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Phil ! " screamed Alice, running 
 up to him and catching hold of his arm. " Goody, 
 goody, goody ! Have you come to stay all day ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! " gayly replied Mr. Lansing. 
 " I was getting lonesome in Cambridge. I feel 
 like a poor old cow who has been kept on dry 
 hay for months. I long for a bite of fresh growing 
 grass. Now, my chickens, go put up a lunch 
 while I speak to Mary. We '11 go on a tramp." 
 
 Tom and Alice fled, capering with joy. What 
 could be better than rambling about with the best 
 of uncles on the loveliest of June Saturdays .? 
 Tom came back in his oldest sailor suit. Rags at 
 his heels, barking wildly. 
 
 "Want to go too, little Rags?" said Uncle 
 
98 
 
 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Phil, catching him up. " I 'm afraid it is too far 
 for Httle dogs." 
 
 " Oh ! wow ! wow ! wow ! " cried Rags in a 
 frenzy of grief. 
 
 " Do let him go ! Tom and I will take turns 
 carrying him when he is tired," said Alice. 
 
 " Yes, do ! " urged Tom. 
 
 " Let us see, Rags, if you '11 fit into my blazer 
 pocket," mused Uncle Phil. 
 
WHITE BIRCH AND WILD RASPBERRIES 99 
 
 " Yes ; but it is a tight fit. How do you like 
 that, my friend ? " 
 
 The children shouted at Rags. His little wild 
 head looked very funny peeping from Uncle 
 Phil's pocket. 
 
 " I think we shall be able to manage it," said 
 Uncle Phil. " Now, I hope every one has a good 
 lunch. You must feed me, too. Cookies, Tom ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Tom, with dancing eyes. " Nora 
 knows how you like her cookies. She has put in 
 a gingerbread donkey — just for you." 
 
 " That 's kind," said Uncle Phil with a smile. 
 " Nora was always such a friend to me." 
 
 " Be at home for supper, Philip," said Mrs. 
 Pryor, as she waved a good-by. 
 
 After following the road for some time, they 
 turned into a lane that led between two fields. 
 Along the path were thickets of wild rosebushes 
 fairly starred with the tender, pink, golden-hearted 
 blossoms. A constant flutter and chirping proved 
 that many little homes were sheltered here. 
 
 Wild grapevines clambered over the alder and 
 hazel bushes, throwing a faint yet delicious odor 
 upon the breeze. Clematis was beginning to 
 show tangled knots of pale green. 
 
 By the brookside wild forget-me-nots opened 
 their stars of pale yet perfect blue. Here and 
 there a graceful elm followed the stone wall. In 
 one place the lane was arched overhead by maples 
 and birches. 
 
lOO ALICE AND TOM 
 
 A mother quail suddenly crossed the road 
 before them. She was followed by three tiny, 
 comical babies plunging along in awkward quail 
 fashion. 
 
 Tom dropped, and clutched Rags, holding his 
 hand firmly over the dog's mouth. 
 
 " I said I would be good," barked the poor 
 dog, when he was once more free. " Can't you 
 trust me, Tom ? I only say ' How do you do .? ' to 
 the birds. I am very much interested in the 
 birds. I should like to make a study of them. 
 But how can I when I may neither speak nor 
 shake hands ? " 
 
 The field on one side was full of red-winged 
 blackbirds. They seemed to resent the coming 
 of the strangers, and flew about in excitement, 
 giving their alarm note, " Chu-chu-chu ! " There 
 was a swamp close by, and Uncle Phil had the 
 children notice how oozy and like black water and 
 mud was that cry. 
 
 Some dainty little yellow birds flew ahead, 
 chasing one another through the bushes. " Pi-ty, 
 pi-ty ! " they cried, in sweet yet mournful tones.. 
 
 By and by the travellers began to climb to 
 some high, breezy pastures. The grass was short 
 and fine, and at every step clouds of grass- 
 hoppers flew up about them. Scattered here and 
 there were tall pines and groups of white birches. 
 
 " Look at that bird ! " said Tom to Alice in low 
 tones. 
 
WHITE BIRCH AND WILD RASPBERRIES lOI 
 
 A dark, grayish-brown bird was hopping a few 
 yards ahead. Now and then it turned and looked 
 at them. Then it would skulk at one side, taking 
 a sweet-fern bush as a cover. 
 
 " Halloa ! " said Rags. 
 
 The bird flew up and away, showing two long 
 white quills on the edges of its tail. 
 
 " That was a vesper sparrow," said Uncle Phil, 
 " so called because 'he sings his sweetest song at 
 twilight. He likes a high, breezy field. No 
 meadows or orchards for him ! " 
 
 The field suddenly dipped into a hollow. 
 White birches stood about shaking their tremu- 
 lous leaves. 
 
 " There 's a spring in here if I remember 
 rightly," said Uncle Phil. 
 
 " And raspberry-bushes ! " cried Alice. " Look, 
 Tom, some of the berries are almost ripe ! " 
 
 II 
 
 They found the spring bubbling up among the 
 fern. The children thought no water could be 
 more delicious. After they had all had a drink 
 they hunted for more raspberries. 
 
 " They are so much nicer than garden berries," 
 said Alice, staining mouth and fingers. 
 
 " You are right, Alice," said Uncle Phil. " Make 
 a wild fruit tame and it loses its flavor. We find 
 raspberries and white birch so often together that 
 I think of them as relatives." 
 
I02 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Uncle Phil had thrown himself upon the 
 mosses. He lay back with his arms under his 
 head, looking at the children with a lazy smile. 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Phil," cried Alice, dropping down 
 beside him, " do tell us a story ! You look just 
 like it. Tell us about the fairies, or anything." 
 
 Uncle Phil's glance swept across the breezy 
 field. It rested upon the shimmering, swaying 
 birches. 
 
 " Trees again ! " groaned Rags. " I think I 11 
 leave for a while, or my feelings may get the 
 better of me." 
 
 So he trotted off to examine into the mysteries 
 of grasshopper housekeeping. 
 
 " The white birch is the maiden of the woods, 
 with her snowy limbs and waving tresses," began 
 Uncle Phil. " She is like a child, never of the 
 same mind for two minutes. 
 
 " First we find her by the highway, then she 
 climbs the hillslope. Now she gleams at us from 
 the woodland shadows. Now she dances before 
 us in the breezy field. 
 
 " One moment she prefers the rich loam of the 
 forest. The next, she chooses the sandy wayside 
 soil. 
 
 " Wherever the pine goes the birch follows. 
 Cut off your pine grove from the southern slope 
 and in a few years the place is crowded with oaks 
 and birches. I wonder why this is so? 
 
 " I think the seeds must have been lying there 
 
WHITE BIRCH AND WILD RASPBERRIES IO3 
 
 a long time. But there was no chance for any- 
 thing else under the great pines. Big trees are 
 very selfish. They take all the rain, and the little 
 trees have small chance for life. 
 
 " Sometimes I find a lone birch in the forest 
 with none other of its kind near. Usually they 
 grow in clusters or rows. They are social crea- 
 tures, and enjoy their kind. 
 
 " They are such graceful little ladies ! I love 
 to see them sway in the breezes. Only the trunks 
 are white. All the branches are dark brown, 
 almost black, and spotted with white. 
 
 " Get me a branch, Tom. I want you to see 
 how beautiful the leaf is. How curiously it is 
 put on ! Was there ever a prettier leaf ? See 
 what a perfect triangle of the softest, most satiny 
 green. The fairies could n't ask a lovelier green 
 for their cloaks, could they, Alice ? 
 
 " See how daintily it is scalloped and crimped 
 at the edges ! Look ! every stem is put on with 
 a quirk. How can the birch-leaves help dancing 
 with every breeze ? And see the little bud in the 
 axil of each leaf ! 
 
 " We must find some black birch and peel it to 
 chew. 'T is almost as good as young checker- 
 berry leaves. 
 
 " After all, I prefer my lady birch. Once I was 
 in the wilds all summer. Then I learned to know 
 my birch. I made my cup of her bark. Oh, how 
 delicious the water was ! Talk of wine ! it is 
 
I04 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 nothing beside cold spring water from a birch- 
 bark dipper. 
 
 " I fished in the lake from a canoe of birch- 
 bark, and my tent was made from it. I made 
 sketches and wrote letters on the thin inner 
 lining. I even sent a poem to my lady-love on 
 birch-bark." 
 
 " Yes," cried Alice, " and I have it now." 
 
 " There 's a legend — Alice always wants the 
 fairy tales. 
 
 " An iron-hearted king had seven fair daughters. 
 He did not remember their youth. He kept them 
 close at home always — always spinning. 
 
 " But when night came they stole out into the 
 forest and danced with the wood nymphs. Then 
 it was that the dryads opened their tree trunks, 
 and the water nixy rose from the fountain. 
 
 " Then it was that Pan stirred in the heart of 
 the forest and woke the echoes with his pipe, — 
 golden in daytime hours, silver under the moon- 
 beams. 
 
 " The big owls sat on the treetops. All the 
 wood creatures crept from their lairs to look and 
 listen. 
 
 " Kindest of all was Cynthia, the gentle moon 
 who gazed down to light the revels. But one 
 night the king followed and saw his daughters. 
 In his anger he changed them to trees. 
 
 " Still they stand and wave in the springtide 
 their green mantles. In the winter one catches 
 
WHITE BIRCH AND WILD RASPBERRIES IO5 
 
 a glimpse of white limbs veiled in the dusk of dark 
 locks. Oh, the old king was not so cruel after 
 all! 
 
 " They are forever young and happy — always 
 dancing, always loved of bird and man. Tom, 
 why do you stare so at me with those big eyes ? 
 Did n't you like the story ? Rather have injuns ? " 
 
 " No, no ! " said Tom hastily. " I like all your 
 stories — only," very dolefully, " I am so hungry ! " 
 
 " Well, well ! " said Uncle Phil. " Where are 
 those baskets.? I want my donkey. Hungry, 
 Rags ? " 
 
 " A little," said Rags modestly. " I have fin- 
 ished my seventeenth grasshopper, but think I 
 could manage a cooky, thank you." 
 
XXXL — THE BOBOLINK 
 
 " Pipe blown through by the warm, wild breath of the West, 
 Shepherding his soft droves of fleecy cloud. 
 Gladness of woods, skies, waters, all in one, 
 The bobolink has come." 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 LICE was taking 
 a walk with 
 Frances. She 
 was a dear little 
 friend from the 
 city, who was 
 spending a few days 
 with Alice. 
 
 Frances was seven, 
 but very small for her 
 age. She had a round 
 face, with big black eyes, 
 and a little dark, curly 
 head, 
 hand was so tiny it was 
 almost lost in Alice's clasp. To Al- 
 ice she seemed like a big doll: very 
 frail, very wonderful and precious. 
 
 They had been to the barn and 
 seen Max the brown horse, and all 
 the hens. Prettytoes had rubbed her soft 
 coat against Frances's feet. 
 
THE BOBOLINK I07 
 
 " Why, she loves me," said the child in great 
 delight. 
 
 Now they were on their way to the corner of 
 the field where Sally Muggins was feeding. In 
 the kindergarten Frances had heard about cows. 
 She had never seen one at very close range. 
 
 " Now, dear, you must not think of being 
 afraid," said Alice. " Sally is very big, but she is 
 the kindest creature. I give her hay and grass 
 to eat and she does n't hurt me. Her mouth is 
 pretty big when it opens, but you must not mind 
 that." 
 
 Sally was feeding quietly near the stone wall. 
 When the children came up she moved toward 
 them. 
 
 " Oh ! " said little Frances, beginning to 
 tremble. 
 
 " Please don't be afraid, darling," said Alice 
 tenderly. " Do you think I 'd take you where 
 you could get hurt ? Sally is asking me to feed 
 her. Stay here and I '11 give her something." 
 
 Alice ran ahead and offered a great bunch of 
 grasses and clover she had pulled. Sally opened 
 a mouth that made Frances fairly turn pale. 
 Alice ran back and took the small hand again. 
 
 " Why, dear, you 're just shaking all over ! " 
 
 " I 'm not much afraid," said little Frances, 
 " only she is so big, and her mouth is just 'nor- 
 mous. And she has n't any teeth in front, Alice." 
 
 " I know it," replied Alice. " She is n't a meat- 
 
108 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 eater like the dog, so she does n't need sharp front 
 teeth. She has some broad, flat teeth, though, to 
 grind her grass and hay. You ought to see Mr. 
 Rolf's Sweetlips, Frances. Our Sally is a good, 
 kind cow, but Sweetlips is the prettiest cow I 
 ever saw." 
 
 " What is that bird, the one making such a 
 fuss ? " asked Frances. 
 
 " Oh, that 's a bobolink. He has a nest here 
 somewhere. I wish I could find it." 
 
 " I don't like him ; he 's a noisy bird ; he 's too 
 noisy," said Frances. 
 
 " Oh, you funny little midget ! " cried Alice, 
 stooping to kiss her friend. 
 
 In the mean time the noisy bird had perched 
 on a tall clover stalk, that bent under his weight. 
 
 " See, Frances," said Alice, " is n't he a funny 
 bird ? See those white spots on his back, and 
 the white on his shoulders. Our poem at school 
 says — 
 
 " ' Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed, 
 Wearing a bright black wedding coat, 
 White are his shoulders and white his crest; 
 Hear him call in his merry note ! 
 Bobolink ! bobolink I spink, spank, spink I ' " 
 
 " Alice," whispered Frances, " a lady is coming." 
 
 " Oh, it 's dear Miss Merriam," cried Alice. 
 " Let 's run ! " 
 
 So the two children clasped hands and ran over 
 the grass. 
 
 " This is my Frances," said Alice. " She 's 
 
THE BOBOLINK IO9 
 
 coming to school with me Monday. We 've been 
 watching the boboHnk." 
 
 " Just what I came here to do," repHed AHce's 
 teacher, after she had greeted the children. " I 
 feel as if I must find the nest. I have tried twice 
 before ; but I think that saucy bird has led me 
 astray on purpose. See ! There 's Mrs. Bobo- 
 link, Alice." 
 
 " Why, she 's a brown bird, not a bit like her 
 mate." 
 
 " I know it, and I can tell you something very 
 queer. When fall comes Mr. Bobolink changes 
 his black and white coat for one like his wife's." 
 
 "Why.?" asked Alice. 
 
 " It is safer for him. He flies south to the 
 grass lands, where they call him the reed bird. 
 Then later he goes to the rice swamps, where he 
 eats, eats, eats until he is as fat as butter. 
 
 " He does n't sing then. He is a very stupid 
 little bird. The hunters shoot the rice birds by 
 the dozen and sell them in the market. Now I 
 Tnust find that nest." 
 
 Mr. Bobolink hovered over a tall tuft of grass, 
 shouting, " See ! see ! See here ! here ! here ! " 
 
 Miss Merriam looked into the tuft, but nothing 
 was there. 
 
 " He ! he ! he ! " snickered Bob from a bunch 
 of weeds. Miss Merriam walked toward the 
 weeds, looking under every clover cluster and tall 
 daisy. 
 
no ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Bob and his mate soared to the other end of 
 the field. Under the weed clump was only a 
 very lively family of crickets. 
 
 " Let us sit down and keep perfectly still," said 
 Miss Merriam. 
 
 So the three dropped on the grass, and pulled 
 the timothy stems over their dresses. After a 
 little the birds flew back. They were not flying 
 very high. The children could see how they 
 turned their wings down until they looked like 
 open umbrellas. 
 
 Finally, the wife dropped suddenly and was 
 hidden in the grasses. Her mate still soared and 
 circled, singing as if he were fairly beside himself. 
 
 " Bobolink ! bobolink - link - link - dink - dink ! 
 Here ! here ! See ! Phew ! Shoo ! Dink ! 
 dink ! Tom Denny-leedle-deedle ! " sang the 
 crazy fellow. 
 
 Miss Merriam stole over toward Mrs. Bobolink. 
 As she neared a tussock of dried grass the brown 
 bird flew up. She fluttered about the intruder's 
 head with every show of fear and anxiety. 
 
 " I must be near it," thought the hunter, with 
 fast-beating heart. 
 
 Where was the nest ? Both birds by this time 
 were away. Miss Merriam was sure that saucy 
 Bob was laughing at her. 
 
 " Oh ! see-see ! Let-be, let-be ! Can't see ! can't 
 see ! Can't-let-be ! Here-here ! Near-near 1 
 Oh here I Oh here ! See - near ! See - near ! " 
 
THE BOBOLINK I I I 
 
 came tittering over the grasses. Still the search 
 went on. 
 
 As Bob and his mate would n't show the nest, 
 the others tried to find it for themselves. It 
 seemed as if they hunted in every square inch of 
 that field. Bob scolded and made fun of them 
 by turns. 
 
 Sometimes he was tilting on the grasses, calling 
 " Here ! here ! " Then he was soaring overhead, 
 crying, " Leedle-deedle-deedle-leedle." 
 
 Once in a while he would have a fit of wild 
 mirth. These strange beings prowling about his 
 country seemed to amuse him. 
 
 " He ! he ! he ! Can't see ! can't see ! Oh 
 phew ! phew ! Can't do ! Can't do ! " he jeered. 
 
 He would perch on the fence-rail, silent for a 
 moment. Then across the field would come a 
 scornful, long-drawn " Can't see-e-e-e ! " 
 
 At last the search was given up. Miss Merriam 
 shook her head at the provoking bird. 
 
 " You are a naughty fellow," she said. " You 
 don't know your friends from your enemies. We 
 only want to see those pretty, brown-specked eggs. 
 Why, we would n't hurt them for anything." 
 
 " That is a queer bird," said little Frances ; 
 " he makes my head ache. He 's too fussy." 
 
 " My grandfather says the bobolink is the corn- 
 planting-bird," said Miss Merriam. " He says, 
 ' Dig a hole, dig a hole, put it in, put it in, cover 't 
 up, cover 't up, step on 't, step along.' " 
 
112 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Later in the day Alice ran into the field to 
 look for a handkerchief Frances had dropped 
 there. Suddenly she saw a brown bird lying on 
 the ground. Her heart beat loud and fast. Had 
 she found the bobolink's nest ? 
 
 She stood very still. But the little wife had 
 heard even her light footfall. She gave a " twitter- 
 itter " of fear and darted away. Alice bent for- 
 ward. 
 
 There lay the nest with rosy clovers nodding 
 about it. There lay the smooth round eggs, 
 flecked and dashed heavily with reddish-brown. 
 
 " Come back, little mother," said Alice gently. 
 " Come back, or the dear eggs will get cold. I '11 
 not hurt you. Come back, little bird." 
 
XXXII. — THE O'LINCOLN FAMILY 
 
 A FLOCK of merry singing-birds were sporting in the 
 grove ; 
 Some were warbling cheerily, and some were making 
 
 love; 
 There were Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Wintersuble, Con- 
 
 quedle, — 
 A livelier set was never led by tabor, pipe, or fiddle, — 
 Crying, "Phew, shew, Wadolincon, see, see, Bobolincon, 
 Down among the tickletops, hiding in the buttercups ! 
 I know the saucy chap, I see his shining cap 
 Bobbing in the clover there, — see, see, see.'' 
 
 Up flies Bobolincon, perching on an apple-tree. 
 Startled by his rival's song, quickened by his raillery. 
 Soon he spies the rogue afloat, curveting in the air, 
 And merrily he turns about, and warns him to beware ! 
 "'Tis you that would a-wooing go, down among the 
 
 rushes O ! 
 But wait a week, till flowers are cheery, — wait a week, 
 
 and ere you marry, 
 Be sure of a house wherein to tarry ! 
 Wadolink, Whiskodink, Tom Denny, wait, wait, wait! " 
 
 Every one 's a funny fellow ; every one's a little mellow ; 
 
 Follow, follow, follow, follow, o'er the hill and in the hol- 
 low ! 
 
 Merrily, merrily, there they hie ; now they rise and now 
 they fly ; 
 
I 14 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 They cross and turn, and in and out, and down the mid- 
 
 ' die, and wheel about, — 
 With a " Phew, shew, Wadolincon ! listen to me, Bobo- 
 
 lincon ! — 
 Happy 's the wooing that 's speedily doing. 
 That 's merry and over with the bloom of the clover ! 
 Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Wintersuble, follow me. 
 
 " Oh, what a happy life we lead, o'er hills and o'er the 
 meads ! 
 
 How we sing and how we play, see, see, we fly away! 
 
 Now we gambol o'er the clearing, off again, then re- 
 appearing 
 
 Poised aloft on quivering wing, how we soar and how we 
 sing! 
 
 Let 's be merry and moving, let 's be happy and loving ; 
 
 For when midsummer has gone, and the grain has filled 
 the ear. 
 
 And the reapers scatter our young, then, Bobolincon, 
 
 Wadolincon, Wintersuble, 
 ^ Haste away ! " 
 
 Wilson Flagg. 
 
XXXIII.— FOURTH OF JULY 
 
 " The patriotism of the average small boy is measured by the amount 
 of noise he can make on this occasion. 
 
 " If torpedoes and fire-crackers suffice, he is but lukewarm. Add horns 
 and gunpowder from sunri.se to sunset, and he is a hero, ready to pledge 
 
 all on his country's altar." 
 
 I. THE NIGHT BE- 
 FORE 
 
 LEASE, mother dear, 
 say 'Yes.'" Alice 
 hung on Mrs. Pryor's 
 arm and looked up 
 pleadingly into her 
 
 ^^I(% " But if Mollie is with you, 
 you two will chatter half the 
 night." 
 
 " We don't mind if we don't 
 sleep," replied Alice. "We want 
 to get up early enough to see the ' Hor- 
 ribles.' " 
 " But if you do this foolish thing, you won't half 
 enjoy the day, you '11 be so tired." 
 
 " You say it is always best to learn by expe- 
 rience," said Alice soberly. " Please give rne the 
 chance." 
 
 Mrs. Pryor smiled in spite of herself, and Mr. 
 Pryor bent low over his paper. 
 
Il6 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Very well, Alice, you shall have your own way. 
 But if it turns out badly — remember, no com- 
 plaints ! " 
 
 " Oh, thank you, mother dear, for giving me a 
 chance to be foolish just once," said Alice gayly. 
 " Now I '11 run and tell Mollie." 
 
 " Do you dread to-morrow ? " asked Mr. Pryor. 
 
 " A little," replied his wife, " but, after all, it is 
 natural she should wish it. They shall have the 
 spare room ; then no one will mind the chatter." 
 
 The girls were much pleased with the honor. 
 " Now, Mollie, we can talk forever if we like," said 
 Alice. " Let 's stay awake all night." 
 
 " Why, do you s'pose we can .? " 
 
 " We can tell stories and Mollie, I know 
 
 a way. We can sit up all night." 
 
 " But our heads will slip." 
 
 " Well, we can do up our hair in curl papers." 
 
 " I 'd like to have curls," said Mollie ; " Hazel's 
 are lovely." 
 
 " Yes, they are : I just hate straight hair. 
 Mother will do up the papers for us." 
 
 " Mother," said Alice, dancing out on the piazza, 
 " will you please do up our hair in curl papers ? We 
 should like curls, because to-morrow is the Fourth 
 of July. Then it will help us keep awake. If 
 our heads slip, the papers will wake us up." 
 
 " Very well," said Mrs. Pryor, laughing. " Get 
 me comb and brush and a basin of water ; I also 
 need scissors, pins, and some of that stiffest brown 
 paper." 
 
FOURTH OF JULY I I 7 
 
 " There 's no half-way about our Alice," said Mr. 
 Pryor as the children ran away. 
 
 "Yes," replied his wife, " Alice likes to test things 
 for herself. Now ^ou shall cut the curl papers." 
 
 " Of your stiffest brown paper, I notice," said 
 Mr. Pryor, his brown eyes twinkling. 
 
 AHce winced a little when the first curl paper 
 was twisted and pinned. " That pulls — mo- 
 ther ! " 
 
 " Oh, excuse me, dear," replied Mrs. Pryor. " In 
 order to make them stay up, you must have the 
 papers rather tight." 
 
 " Mollie, your head looks like a big corn-ball," 
 Alice said, laughing, when the work was finished. 
 
 " I don't look any funnier than you," said 
 Mollie. 
 
 The wide-awake children sat up in bed against 
 the head-board. Long after the rest of the house 
 was quiet, the little tongues were chattering. 
 
 " Alice," said Mollie after a long pause, " don't 
 you begin to feel sleepy ? " 
 
 " Yes, a little. Let 's get up and wash our faces, 
 then we '11 be all right." 
 
 " That 's better," said Alice after they were once 
 more settled. " Now don't talk any more, but 
 just bend your mind to keeping awake." 
 
 " Alice," said Mollie suddenly, " you are going 
 to sleep." 
 
 " I am no^," said Alice jumping. 
 
 There was a long silence. The two heads 
 
I 1 8 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 leaned nearer and nearer together. Suddenly 
 they touched with a whack ! 
 
 " Oh dear me ! " cried MoUie, " how you did 
 hurt me ! " 
 
 " You hurt me just as much," retorted sleepy 
 Alice, crossly. 
 
 " I sha'n't try to sit up any longer," and Mol- 
 lie slid down on the pillow. " Ugh ! it feels just 
 horrid ! " 
 
 " Does n't it ! I don't believe I care so much 
 for curls ; do you ? " 
 
 A little later Alice heard a rustling. " What 
 are you doing, dear ? " 
 
 " I can't stand these papers a minute longer," 
 replied Mollie, fretfully. " I 'm going to take out 
 every one of them." 
 
 " So am I," said Alice. " Oh, how these pins 
 prick ! " 
 
 " I guess Mrs. Pryor wanted our hair to curl up 
 tight," said Mollie, yawning. 
 
 " I ■ guess she wants me to have plenty of expe- 
 rience," thought poor Alice, with tears in her 
 eyes. 
 
 They tugged, pulled, pricked their hands, and 
 tore the paper, but at last the thing was done. 
 
 Two little heads slid down upon the pillows 
 with sighs of relief. 
 
 In a second they were both in the Land of Nod. 
 
FOURTH OF JULY II9 
 
 II. THE MORNING AFTER 
 
 Bang ! went something outside the window. 
 
 " What 's that? " said MolHe drowsily. " We 've 
 only been asleep a little while." 
 
 " It 's Tom ! He said he would get up before 
 we did," cried Alice. " We must hurry, dear, or 
 we shall miss the Horribles." 
 
 The two girls tumbled out of bed and scram- 
 bled into their clothes. 
 
 " Why, it 's night," said Mollie, as they opened 
 the hall door. 
 
 Overhead the stars were still shining, though 
 growing very pale, and just then the clock struck : 
 one — two — three ! 
 
 " Is that you, Tom } " There was a giggle 
 among the honeysuckles and another bang ! 
 
 " Don't, please, Tom ! You '11 wake mother." 
 
 Tom and Percy stepped out, their pockets 
 bulging with fire-crackers and torpedoes. 
 
 " We '11 go on the avenue," whispered Alice, 
 " and then mother won't hear. Is n't it strange, 
 Tom, that father and mother don't care about get- 
 ting up early on the Fourth ? " 
 
 " I can't understand it," said Tom earnestly. 
 " If I live to be a hundred, I shall always like to 
 do it." 
 
 " I 'm sure I shall, too," replied Alice. 
 
 For two hours the avenue echoed with the snap 
 of torpedoes and the bang of crackers. To the 
 
I20 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 children it seemed that noise, a great noise and 
 a good deal of it, was the object of the glorious 
 Fourth. 
 
 At six they started to meet the Horribles. By 
 this time half the school had collected at Alice's 
 house. 
 
 No one was quite sure where the parade started, 
 but Guy had heard it was at Mossy Meadows, a 
 full mile away. 
 
 But everything was quiet at Mossy Meadows. 
 A woman sweeping her porch advised them to go 
 to River View. Another long mile tramp, still 
 no Horribles. Suddenly a faint sound of music 
 came across the fields. 
 
 " They are at the Centre after all," said Percy. 
 " If we cut across lots we shall save time." 
 
 So over the bars climbed the children, and 
 across the dewy fields they ran. They climbed 
 fences, they waded tall grass, they jumped brooks. 
 At last, tired and panting, they reached Main 
 Street. 
 
 The parade was just starting. It was such a 
 collection of funny things ! There was a giant 
 with a horrible face who could stretch his neck 
 until he was ten feet tall. There were fairies, 
 goblins, brownies, and gypsies. 
 
 All the bicycle clubs were in gay or quaint 
 attire. Every old horse and broken-down wagon 
 in town had been called into use. 
 
 " See, Mollie," whispered Alice, " that team 
 
FOURTH OF JULY 121 
 
 says, ' Mollie and me and the baby.' Why ! they 
 have a real pig dressed up as a baby ! Hear it 
 squeal ! " 
 
 When the parade had passed, they ran down 
 another street to see it again. It was very excit- 
 ing. Alice thought she could never weary of it. 
 
 At half-past eight Mr. and Mrs. Pryor were 
 watching the parade from their own piazza. 
 
 " How many children are following ! " the lady 
 remarked. " I suppose they come from those 
 back streets near the river." 
 
 " They are from nearer home than that," said 
 Mr. Pryor. " There is our Alice." 
 
 " Why, Arnold, it can't be possible." 
 
 No wonder Mrs. Pryor had hard work to re- 
 cognize in that little gypsy girl her own daughter. 
 Alice's long hair hung uncombed over her shoul- 
 ders. Her dress was torn and full of burned 
 places. She had cut a slit in one stocking climb- 
 ing over some bars. She had left behind the heel 
 of one boot when she scrambled over a stone 
 wall. Her hat was on one side, her face was red 
 and moist. She was very tired and very happy. 
 
 " We 've had a jolly time," cried the child, " and 
 we 're as hungry as bears." 
 
 " I suppose you 've had enough of fire-crack- 
 ers," said Mr. Pryor at the breakfast table. 
 
 " Why, indeed, no ! " cried Alice in amazement. 
 " We have a lot left, and we 're going to set them 
 off until it is dark." 
 
122 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 III. THE END OF IT ALL 
 
 At dinner time Mollie and Alice returned from 
 Tom's, looking weary. 
 
 " Do rest a little this afternoon," urged Mrs. 
 Pryor. 
 
 " I think we will," said Alice, " just for an hour. 
 Come into the library, Mollie, it 's so cool there. 
 You take the couch, and I '11 have father's steamer 
 chair. If Tom comes over, say we '11 be out by 
 half-past two." 
 
 Mr. Pryor returned from his walk at five o'clock. 
 
 " I 've had a very quiet afternoon," said his wife, 
 smiling. 
 
 " I suppose those crazy girls are off again," 
 he remarked. 
 
 " They are both sound asleep in the library," 
 she replied. " They dropped off within ten min- 
 utes after dinner. I believe I must awaken them, 
 after all." 
 
 Alice and Mollie awoke at six, very much sur- 
 prised to find that they had been asleep. After 
 tea they went to the Club House to see the fire- 
 works that the neighborhood had planned. 
 
 Tom met them, looking a little sheepish. He 
 did not wish the girls to know that he had been 
 slumbering in the hammock all the afternoon. 
 
 Rags was there also with Mops White, Frisk 
 ■Dawson, and numerous cronies. He was angry 
 with his master, who had shut him up the night 
 
FOURTH OF JULY 1 23 
 
 before, and he felt obliged to treat Tom with cold- 
 ness. Even the joyful excitement of the crackers 
 and torpedoes had but partly consoled him. 
 
 At the Club House he was engaged in earnest 
 discussion with Sir Charles Grandison, Dr. Tal- 
 bot's English mastiff. 
 
 "We licked you, we Americans," he said, 
 tauntingly. 
 
 " I don't believe it," said Sir Charles. " Eng- 
 land has never been whipped, never ! " 
 
 " But we did," insisted Rags. " On the Fourth 
 of July, 1776, our best men met in Philadelphia 
 and there drew up the famous Declaration of 
 Independence. In it we swore that no tyrant foe 
 should impose its yoke upon our freeborn necks, 
 — and they never have." 
 
 " I hope England will declare war in less than 
 a week. She '11 whip you all to nothing." 
 
 " I 'd like to see her try it," said Rags with a 
 peculiar smile. " We 'd just sink that little island 
 of yours in mid-ocean so that it would never be 
 heard from again." 
 
 " You are spoiling for a fight, Rags," said Tom, 
 coming up just then. " What is the matter with 
 you ? Come home now, the fireworks are over." 
 
 " You shall hear from me soon," said Sir 
 Charles stiffly. 
 
 " I am ready to meet you," returned Rags 
 proudly. 
 
 " You 're tired, old fellow," said Tom, hugging 
 
124 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 his dear friend as they turned homeward, " but not 
 so tired as I." 
 
 " Oh, I 'm not very tired," barked Rags, " but my 
 blood is up. Rags will never stand calmly by and 
 let his country be insulted. Come on, haughty 
 cur ! I will defend my country's honor with my 
 life." 
 
XXXIV. —THE BIRDS AND THE POETS 
 
 THE ROBIN 
 
 " The sobered robin, hunger-silent now, 
 
 Seeks cedar-berries blue, his autumn cheer." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 " In that continuous redbreast boding rain." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 " Now was the winter gone and the snow ; and Robin the Redbreast 
 Boasted on bush and tree, it was he, it was he and no other 
 That had covered with leaves the Babes in the Wood, and blithely 
 All the birds sang with him, and little cared for his boasting. 
 Or for his Babes in the Wood, or the Cruel Uncle, and only 
 Sang for the mates they had chosen and cared for the nests they were 
 building." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 THE BLUEBIRD 
 
 " The bluebird in the meadow brakes 
 Is singing with the brook." 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 " While yet the bluebird smoothed in leafless trees 
 His feathers ruffled by the chill sea breeze." 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 THE ORIOLE 
 
 " My oriole, my glance of summer fire, 
 Is come at last." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 " An oriole clattered and the robins shrilled." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 THE 'bobolink 
 
 " The bobolink tinkled ; the deep meadows flowed." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
126 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Merrily swinging on brier and weed, 
 Near to the nest of his .little dame, 
 Over the mountain-side or mead, 
 Robert of Lincoln is telling his name. 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 Spink, spank, spink ; 
 Snug and safe is this nest of ours, 
 Hidden among the summer flowers, 
 Chee, chee, chee." 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 THE LARK AND OWL 
 
 " The lark is but a bumpkin fowl, 
 He sleeps in his nest till morn ; 
 But blessings on the jolly owl. 
 That all night blows his horn." 
 
 Scott. 
 
 THE LARK ' 
 
 " Up with me ! up with me into the clouds ! 
 For thy song, lark, is strong ; 
 
 Up with me ! up with me into the clouds ! 
 Singing, singing, 
 
 With clouds and sky about thee ringing; 
 Lift me, guide me till I find 
 
 That spot which seems so to thy mind ! 
 
 " There is madness about thee, and joy divine 
 In that song of thine. 
 Lift me, guide me, high and high. 
 To thy banque ting-place in the sky." 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 " Hark ! hark I the lark at heaven's gate sings, 
 And Phoebus 'gins arise, 
 His steeds to water at those springs 
 
 On chaliced flowers that lies ; 
 And winking Mary-buds begin 
 
 To ope their golden eyes ; 
 With everything that pretty bin, 
 My lady sweet, arise ; 
 Arise, arise I " 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
THE BIRDS AND THE POETS \2'J 
 
 ' The purple finch that on wild-cherry and red-cedar feeds, 
 A winter-bird, comes with its plaintive whisile, 
 And pecks by the witch-hazel." 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 " O blithe newcomer ! I have heard, 
 I hear thee and rejoice. 
 O cuckoo ! shall I call thee bird. 
 Or but a wandering voice ? " 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 " The only hammer that I hear 
 
 Is wielded by the woodpecker." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 " When the phebe scarce whistles 
 Once an hour to his fellow." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 " A thrush is ringing 
 Till all the alder coverts dark 
 Seem sunshine-dappled with his singing." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 " Now rings the woodland loud and long. 
 The distance takes a lovelier hue, 
 And, drowned in yonder living blue 
 The lark becomes a sightless song." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 other birds 
 
 " The cock's shrill trump that tells of scattered corn, 
 Passed breezily on by all his flapping mates." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 " Silently overhead the hen-hawk sails 
 With watchful, measuring eye." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 " The thin-winged swallow skating on the air." 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 " I hear the rabbit hghtly leaping, 
 
 And the foolish screaming of the jay." 
 
 Whittier. 
 
XXXV. —CAMPING OUT 
 
 " I said, I will not walk with men to-day, 
 But I will go among the trees, — 
 Among the forest trees I '11 take my way, 
 
 And they shall say to me what words they please." 
 
 The Trees. 
 
 EAR Rags," 
 said Alice, 
 " wo n't y o u 
 please try to 
 understand ? " 
 "No, I won't!" 
 barked Rags 
 in a perfect 
 fury. "You 
 want me to under- 
 stand something 
 that will break my 
 . You and Tom are 
 going away ! You do not 
 intend to take me ! Why is that, 
 I should like to know ? " 
 " There ! there ! " said Tom soothingly. " We 
 leave you at home because the place where we go 
 is not a good one for dogs. There are miles and 
 
CAMPING OUT 129 
 
 miles of water, and more trees than you ever saw 
 in all your life. You know you don't like trees, 
 Rags." 
 
 " I don't care," barked Rags, " I want to go i I 
 will go anywhere so long as I can go with you." 
 
 " The train is coming, children," said Mr. Ben- 
 nett. " Here, Rags, watch this," and he threw his 
 cap on the platform. Rags took his place sadly : 
 he was too faithful not to obey. 
 
 Alice and Tom gave him a last hug, with tear- 
 ful eyes. As the train rumbled away, they caught 
 a glimpse of the dear little fellow in Mr. Bennett's 
 arms. He was not barking, but the whole droop 
 of his form made the children's hearts sink. 
 
 " Crying, Alice } '' said Uncle Phil. 
 
 " I can't help it," sobbed Alice. " Rags will die 
 before we get home." 
 
 " Oh, no, he won't, — he 's such a busy fellow, 
 you know. There 's the Dog Club — he 's been 
 elected President. Things are in bad shape there. 
 He '11 have to do a good deal to straighten them 
 out. Then, you know, he may have to lecture 
 before the Summer School. What do you think 
 of these subjects, Alice, — ' Cats : how to make 
 them love you ; ' ' Laws against the flying of 
 birds ; ' ' Trees : how they may be prevented ' ? " 
 
 Alice smiled : she knew that dear Uncle Phil 
 was trying to lead her mind to happier subjects. 
 
 They were really bound for the camp Uncle 
 Phil loved, among the beautiful Squaw Lakes. 
 
130 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Father, mother, Uncle Phil, Miss Merriam, Alice 
 and Tom, were going into the wilds. 
 
 It was such a pleasant journey, past busy towns 
 and lovely villages, through a wide country where 
 the pale-blue mountains beckoned from the hori- 
 zon's edge. The travellers sailed for several 
 hours on a beautiful lake, where they floated si- 
 lently, violet mountain peaks appearing and re- 
 appearing, the silvery mists curling from their 
 sides. 
 
 At Binden, Jeremiah was awaiting them with a 
 three-seated mountain wagon. There was also an 
 express team for the trunks, driven by a lank, 
 roguish-looking lad known as Ike. 
 
 Jeremiah had a gruff voice and kindly eyes. His 
 glance seemed to say, " I wonder if you 're going 
 to be nuisances, and whether or not I '11 take you 
 fishing." 
 
 Ike gave a broad wink at Tom when no one 
 else was looking. The two were to ride with the 
 trunks. 
 
 They were soon climbing the great hill back of 
 Binden. The air was fresh and keen, and heavy 
 with the odors of pine and sweet fern. Tom felt 
 as if he could fly like the swallows tracking the 
 deep blue overhead. 
 
 " Wal," said Ike, " s'pose you 'spect to catch a 
 hundred-pound fish while you 're up here." 
 
 " Fresh-water fish don't usually weigh that," 
 said Tom demurely. 
 
CAMPING OUT 131 
 
 " The fish in our lake are so thick that some- 
 times you can't go out rowin'," went on Ike ; 
 "an' they get right up on their tails and beg 
 you to catch them. What do you think of that ? " 
 
 " It will go very well with your other fish story," 
 replied Tom with a perfectly sober face. 
 
 Ike chuckled : " Do ye know w'at that is 
 standin' against that wall ? " 
 
 " Elderberry," said Tom ; " it grows where I live. 
 Do you know what that bird is ? " 
 
 " A crow or a brown thrasher, I guess," faltered 
 Ike. 
 
 " Why, that 's a white-throated sparrow," said 
 Tom. "He stays with us for about a month in 
 the spring. He says, 'Sow wheat, Peabody — 
 Peabody — Peabody.' " 
 
 " Wal ! wal ! " was all Ike remarked, but he 
 thought, " The little chap is n't any greenhorn, 
 even if he does come from Bosting-way." 
 
 After a while the road turned into the woods. 
 
 " We love the woods, don't we ? " said Alice, 
 leaning against her dear friend's shoulder. 
 
 " Ah ! indeed we do," said Miss Merriam, with 
 a little caress. " One of my friends has said : — 
 
 " ' But he who spends an hour within the wood, 
 Hath fed on fairy food.' " 
 
 " Would n't it be just lovely if we could find the 
 fairies .? " cried the little girl. 
 
 In another moment the horses drew up in a 
 large clearing. 
 
132 
 
 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Welcome to Camp Fairchild," said Uncle Phil, 
 swinging Alice down to the ground. 
 
 She saw a sparkle of blue ahead and a glimmer 
 of tents among the trees. Several people came 
 running to them over the pine-needle carpet. A 
 little girl seized her hand eagerly. 
 
 " I 'm Betty Fairchild," she said, laughing all 
 over her pretty brown face. " You 're Alice Pryor, 
 and I 'm so glad to see you." 
 
 Betty's mouth was like a red, red rose, and her 
 dark curls bobbed over her brow. Alice felt a 
 sudden and great content. 
 
 
 'V«« 
 
XXXVI. — CAMPING OUT 
 
 II. — Cotitinued. 
 
 " And when I came among the trees of God, 
 With all their thousand voices sweet and blest, 
 They gave me welcome. So I slowly trod 
 Their arched and lofty aisles with heart at rest." 
 
 The Trees. 
 
 W l^^ ^^ ^^^^ Merriam ? " whispered Betty, 
 
 V V when the two girls were free to run 
 away. 
 
 " She is my teacher." 
 
 " Do you like to have her here ? Does n't she 
 make you think of lessons, and long, tiresome 
 hours in the school-room .? " 
 
 " Why, I never have too much of her," cried 
 Alice in amazement. " She is one of my very 
 best friends. She 's the sweetest, dearest lady in 
 the world next to mother." 
 
 " Oh, you really like her, then ? " 
 
 " Like her ! " echoed Alice in a choked voice, 
 " why, / /ove her. I can't tell you how much I love 
 her." 
 
 " Oh," said Betty, greatly impressed; " of course, 
 then, I shall like her, and be glad she has come. 
 Has she been your teacher long ? " 
 
 " Ever since I went to school," cried Alice, with 
 
134 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 a little sob. " And next term I 'm going to lose 
 her. I shall have to be promoted into the Gram- 
 mar School. I can't bear to leave Miss Merriam. 
 I have cried at night a good many times lately 
 thinking of it. But don't let us talk about it any 
 more." 
 
 " I am so thankful you came," said Betty. 
 " When I saw another boy I almost fainted ! 
 Does n't Tom ever tease you ? " 
 
 " Sometimes, only.I really think I tease him more 
 than he does me. He 's just like my brother, and 
 the dearest boy. I wish he were my real brother." 
 
 " Don't wish for a real brother," said Betty, shak- 
 ing her dark curls. " He would live only to plague 
 you." 
 
 Alice and Betty ran about and explored the 
 entire camp. They visited the wharf, where sev- 
 eral canoes and a steam launch were anchored. 
 They peeped into the tents, where the white cot- 
 beds were all ready for their weary occupants. 
 
 On the slope of the hill was a large log house, 
 encircled by. broad piazzas, where hammocks 
 swung, and chairs and couches invited repose. 
 There was a long dining-hall in the house, and a 
 smaller room behind it, with a loft overhead. 
 
 " See the big fireplace," said Betty. " We have 
 a rousing fire here when it is cold or stormy. 
 In the smaller room you may read or write when 
 you want to be quiet. The kitchen is a house by 
 itself back among the trees." 
 
CAMPING OUT 135 
 
 " What do you do all day ? " asked Alice, very 
 much interested. 
 
 " We go out on the lake to sail or fish or ex- 
 plore, and we take walks or drives. We hunt for 
 flowers and watch birds and pick berries. Do 
 you swim, Alice ? " 
 
 " I am learning," said Alice ; " we have swim- 
 ming baths in our town. Do you like to climb, 
 Betty.?" 
 
 " I love to," said the little lady joyously. " You 
 like the same things I do, Alice." 
 
 Alice thought the early supper delightful. They 
 had blackberries, brown bread, and fresh lake trout 
 fried to a crisp, golden brown. 
 
 Tom sat nearly opposite with Dick and Horace 
 Fairchild. Dick made up iaces at Betty, and went 
 through a remarkable series of gestures that puz- 
 zled Alice. 
 
 " What does he mean ? " she inquired, turning 
 to her friend. 
 
 " He means that here is another girl to tease, 
 with long braids to pull, and hair ribbons to steal." 
 
 " I don't think he 11 do either," said Alice, with 
 dignity. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, you don't htow boys," replied 
 Betty, shaking her head wisely. 
 
 After tea they all went out on the lake. They 
 rowed about until the shadows crept from 
 mountain to mountain, and a lone whippoorwill 
 lamented from the swamp. 
 
136 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Then the moon rose, silvering the landscape. A 
 strain of music crept upon the quiet air. Both 
 Dick and Horace Fairchild sang a clear, high, 
 thrilling soprano, while little Betty joined in with 
 a deep, rich contralto. 
 
 Tom did not know why there was such a lump 
 in his throat, and Alice hid her head in Miss Mer- 
 riam's lap. 
 
 " O lovely moon ! " 
 
 rang the childish" voices, while the Queen of Night 
 rose in majesty from the dark mountains. The 
 quiet lake waters stole the radiance and were a 
 silver flood. The shores caught the echoes and 
 threw them back. 
 
 Overhead the stars crept out, and night birds 
 called to one another across the waves. Alice 
 went up from the wharf holding Miss Merriam's 
 hand. After she had been tucked away and the 
 good-nights said, there was a restless turning, 
 broken by a stifled sob. 
 
 " What is it, dear ? " said the friend, leaning over 
 and patting Alice's shoulder. 
 
 The child turned a little tear-stained face to 
 hers. 
 
 " What is it, Alice ? " 
 
 " I could n't help thinking of it," she murmured. 
 
 " Of what, my little girl ? " 
 
 " About next fall, when I must be promoted and 
 leave you." 
 
 Miss Merriam was silent a moment. 
 
CAMPING OUT 137 
 
 " Dear Alice," at last she said, " I, too, have been 
 thinking about it. But it is a thing that must 
 come. It is a hard thing for both of us, but a 
 right thing. You will never lose me as a friend. 
 And you will try not to make it harder, Alice ? " 
 
 " I '11 try not to," murmured the child. 
 
 " Now go to sleep, my little friend. Hear the 
 pines sing a sleepy song ! To-morrow there will 
 be a long, beautiful day in the woods." 
 
 " Will you hold my hand ? " begged Alice in an 
 unsteady voice. 
 
 " Yes, dear child. Now go to sleep, my Alice." 
 
 Miss Merriam held the little hand until it re- 
 laxed in her grasp. Then she laid it gently down 
 and turned on her pillow with something very like 
 a sigh, as she whispered : — 
 
 " Oh the beautiful love and faithfulness of a 
 child-heart ! " 
 
XXXVII. —CAMPING OUT 
 
 III. — Concluded 
 
 " Then all around me as I went 
 Their loving arms they lightly bent, 
 And all around leaf-voices low, 
 Were calling, calling soft and slow; 
 I could not fail to know 
 The words they whispered so, 
 Nor could I onward go 
 From words so sweet and low." 
 
 The Trees. 
 
 O T H E R," 
 
 said Betty, 
 with a very 
 long face, 
 " those boys 
 are mean." 
 
 " What quar- 
 rel have you 
 now.?" asked 
 Mrs. Fairchild wearily. 
 
 " It is n't a quarrel this 
 time," said Betty ; " only 
 they won't let us go over to Camp 
 Ellis with them." 
 " That is not so bad. I wish to have you keep 
 quiet this afternoon." 
 
CAMPING OUT 139 
 
 " They make me so ■ angry," went on Betty. 
 " They say they are older than we girls, and 
 know more of life, and have had more experience!' 
 Betty's little nose went up scornfully. 
 
 Every one laughed, and Mrs. Pryor said sooth- 
 ingly, " I would not mind even that It is just as 
 well for you boys and girls to be sometimes apart. 
 Then, when you come together again, you will 
 enjoy one another all the more." 
 
 Miss Merriam strolled off into the forest, a child 
 on either side, for by this time Betty was an equal 
 adorer with Alice. 
 
 Their way led among grand pines and hem- 
 locks, and they looked up, up into a world of green 
 branches, with here and there a fleck of blue sky 
 peeping through. Spicy odors came down to 
 them, and from the " green lyres " of the pines a 
 sad, sweet music stole. 
 
 " We spent last summer in Europe," said Betty, 
 " and when we went into great cathedrals I always 
 thought of our pine groves." 
 
 " That is very natural," said Miss Merriam. 
 " The oldest builders must have got their ideas 
 from the forest aisles. These rows of grand tree- 
 trunks suggested the pillars or columns. The 
 branches meeting overhead gave them the pointed 
 roof." 
 
 " I read in one of father's books something like 
 this," said Alice : — 
 
 " ' The groves were God's first temples.' " 
 
140 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " That is from Bryant's ' Forest Hymn.' We 
 must read it together some day." 
 
 So they strolled along until they saw before 
 them a glimmer of blue water. 
 
 " The lake should not be there',' said Betty in 
 puzzled tones ; " we have been going away from 
 it all the time." 
 
 They pressed forward until they stood in a 
 fringe of birches which lined the edge of a dainty 
 little lakelet. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! oh ! " cried the girls, " it 's a baby 
 lake. Why have we never seen it before .? Have 
 we really discovered it 1 " 
 
 The little lake was hardly more than a pool. 
 It lay there in the depths of the forest, its tiny 
 waves breaking up against a beach of fairest sand. 
 The great pines bent to screen it, while white 
 birches tossed their snowy limbs and fluttered 
 their green mantles close to the very edge. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " said Miss Merriam, " and it 
 makes one think of another poem, Lowell's ' Foun- 
 tain of Youth ' : — 
 
 " 'T is a woodland enchanted ! 
 The great August noonh'ght, 
 Through myriad rifts slanted, 
 Leaf and bole thickly sprinkles 
 With flickering gold.' 
 
 " Then in another place it says : — 
 
 f' ' And o'er it 
 
 A birch hangs delighted, 
 
 Dipping, dipping, dipping its tremulous hair.' " 
 
CAMPING OUT 141 
 
 " What was the ' Fountain of Youth ' ? " asked 
 Alice. 
 
 " It was only a fairy dream, dear. Long ago, 
 people believed in this wonderful fountain in the 
 forest. If one drank of it he could never grow 
 old. So people made weary journeys to find it. 
 Some grew old in the search, and died far from 
 home." 
 
 " How sad ! " said Betty, a shade creeping over 
 her bright little face. " But our lake is so pretty, 
 even to look at it makes one happy. Father says 
 that a happy heart keeps us young. Alice, sup- 
 pose we call our lake ' Lake Theodora,' for Miss 
 Merriam ? " 
 
 " That is very sweet in you," said their friend ; 
 " I shall be proud of my namesake." 
 
 '' Now, at last," said Betty briskly, " we have 
 something to keep from those boys. Won't it be 
 nice, Alice, to steal away and enjoy it all our- 
 selves ? " 
 
 Alice's face clouded. " I was thinking — how 
 much I should like to have Tom see it," she said, 
 rather faintly. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! dear ! what shall I do with you ? " 
 said Betty, holding up her hands in comic dis- 
 may. 
 
 " I think you might keep it a secret for a while," 
 said Miss Merriam. " Then we can plan a picnic 
 here and invite the boys." 
 
 " But they '11 make fun of it, and splash the 
 
142 
 
 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 water, and j)/^// like wild Indians," said Betty, with 
 trembling lips. 
 
 " Don't worry, dear. I '11 take care of that." 
 
 One afternoon, as they neared Lake Theodora, 
 Betty said suddenly, " Why, what is that ? " 
 
 Rocking on the waves was the daintiest, pret- 
 tiest birch-bark canoe, all soft golden brown with 
 a white stripe around the edge. 
 
CAMPING OUT 143 
 
 The pretty boat was tied to a birch trunk by a 
 scarlet cord, and a slender paddle peeped over its 
 edge. On the white stripe some letters were 
 painted in black, — 
 
 "THE LADY BETTY." 
 
 A slip of paper fluttered from the paddle. Betty 
 seized it, and her face grew very red. 
 
 " From, those horrid boys " 
 
 was inscribed in Dick's most dashing hand. 
 
 Alice, meantime, was skipping up and down 
 crying, " A canoe of your own, Betty ! The boys 
 made it ! That is why they were away so much. 
 They make lots of canoes at Camp Ellis. Oh, 
 Betty ! Oh, Betty ! " 
 
 Meanwhile, in the bushes across the pool, three, 
 nay, four pairs of sharp young eyes, were watch- 
 ing the scene. 
 
 " If you open your mouth I '11 — I '11 choke you ! " 
 whispered Dick sternly, burying poor Horace's 
 nose deeply in the mosses. 
 
 " She 's crying — Betty is," said Tom, in awe- 
 struck tones. 
 
 But there was one member of the party who 
 simply could not keep still. 
 
 "Wow! wow!" 
 
 Alice turned pale, and even Miss Merriam 
 started. 
 
 " Wow ! wow ! " went on the sharp voice. " I 
 
144 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 tell you I won't keep still a minute longer. I hear 
 my dear Alice. Where is she ? " 
 
 " We might as well show up," said Dick, " Rags 
 has given us away." ■ So the lads arose from their 
 hiding-place, and advanced to the water's edge, a 
 smiling row. 
 
 " Is it Rags ? " cried Alice. For reply Tom 
 held up the little dog, who barked as if beside 
 himself. 
 
 " We '11 swim across," said Dick. " Betty, come 
 over in your canoe and get this dog." 
 
 " Keep still. Rags," ordered Tom, as he dropped 
 his friend on the canoe bottom. 
 
 " All right," said Rags. " I don't mind water, 
 woods, or anything, now that I am with my family 
 once more." 
 
 " Oh, you dearest doggie ! " cried Alice, catching 
 up her friend and hugging him. " How did you 
 ever get here .? " 
 
 " Hum ! " replied the little dog, " I prefer that 
 you should not inquire into my private affairs. 
 But I do love you, Alice," and Rags kissed her 
 vigorously. 
 
 When the boys reached shore, there was a tor- 
 rent of exclamation. It was a confused mixture 
 of canoe and dog, of thanks and inquiry. 
 
 " Well, Alice," said Tom, as soon as he could 
 make himself heard above the noise, " it was this 
 way. After we went, Rags just pined and pined, 
 he missed us so. Then Uncle Will drove out. 
 
CAMPING OUT 145 
 
 He was going on to Uncle Fred's for a visit, then 
 up here. After he had driven twenty miles he 
 found Rags under the carriage seat. That cute 
 little dog had guessed where he was going, so he 
 hid himself away to go, too, — did n't you. Rags ? 
 Uncle Will brought him right along." 
 
 " Yes," barked Rags, " I came right along. I 
 wish to be a good dog and mind my master, but 
 there are some things flesh and blood cannot 
 stand. I could not live without you, Alice and 
 Tom. If Uncle Will had not brought me, I 
 should have walked every step of the way. It is 
 really very nice here. I don't mind these forest 
 trees so much. Now that you have that pretty 
 brown canoe for me, I shall not object to the 
 water. I will drive away all the bad dogs. No 
 bear shall come to this camp ! Wow ! " 
 
XXXVIIL — THE THISTLE 
 
 " Bright, bright, restless bright, through the sunburnt meads 
 Wavers the butterfly : 
 Ever across its path a pilot invisible leads 
 A sylphid fleet of the thistle's light and feathery seeds, — 
 And August passeth by." 
 
 Edith M. Thomas. 
 
 T was a 
 beautiful 
 day in late 
 August. 
 Already the 
 leaves were red- 
 dening in the 
 maple domes. 
 Cardinal flowers 
 stood up brave 
 and ruddy beside 
 the stream. 
 The sun shone 
 warm upon the slope 
 of the hillside pas- 
 ture, but the breeze 
 was fresh and cool. In the dry, yellowing grasses 
 thousands of little musicians were tuning their 
 instruments. 
 
THE THISTLE 1 47 
 
 Grasshoppers and crickets scraped their vioHns. 
 Locusts pierced the silence with their sharp nee- 
 'dle of sound. 
 
 Each little brown, green, or gray clad brother 
 of the stubble did his part in the late summer 
 chorus, which hinted of the coming autumn sym- 
 phony. 
 
 Alice lay upon the ground gazing dreamily at 
 the faint violet peaks rising in waves and crests 
 against the cheek of the sky. She had come out 
 by herself to look for milkweed pods. Her basket, 
 nearly full, lay by her side. 
 
 She was rather tired and a bit sober. In a few 
 days they were going home. It would be good to 
 see the old faces and the loved places. But this 
 life out of doors was so sweet, so free ! 
 
 Why must the work-time draw near, with its 
 puzzles for even little girls of eight ? Alice drew 
 a long sigh. 
 
 " Look out ! " said a sharp voice, " you nearly 
 blew me out of this thistle. You mortals are as 
 bad as the wind." 
 
 Alice looked about, but saw no one save a great 
 burly bee, grumbling among the purple thistle 
 threads. 
 
 " Yes, I spoke," said the bee. 
 
 " I did n't know bees could talk," replied Alice, 
 in great wonder. 
 
 " That proves how little you know, in spite of 
 your size," said the bee saucily. 
 
148 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " I 'm sure I 'm very glad to find it out," replied 
 the child humbly ; " I 've been learning something 
 new every day." 
 
 " Now, / don't have to," remarked the bee com- 
 placently; " I know it all to begin with." 
 
 " I would rather find things out : surprises are 
 such fun." 
 
 " That 's the way you look at it," said the bee, 
 loftily. " But then you can't help it, being only a 
 mortal. Can you make honey ? " 
 
 " No, but I can eat it." 
 
 " Do you have baskets in your hind legs .'' Can 
 you pack them full with pollen } " 
 
 " Now see here. Sir Bee," said another voice ; 
 " I shall not allow you to treat my visitor so rudely. 
 You are nearly drunk with the nectar you have 
 taken from me. Off with you ! " 
 
 " You 're the stiffest old lady I ever saw. Madam 
 Thistle. I shall not trouble you again," 
 
 " Oh, yes, you will ! We thistles are the refuge 
 of you great fellows after all else has failed. Go 
 away, I tell you." 
 
 " I 'm going : good-by, little girl. Good-by ! " 
 and Sir Bee flew, scolding, away. 
 
 " Can you talk, also ? " cried Alice, looking up 
 at the great thistle stalk bending over her. 
 
 " Everything in nature talks, but only a few 
 mortals have the ears to hear," replied the thistle. 
 
 " But I understand you perfectly," said Alice, 
 in great wonder. 
 
THE THISTLE 1 49 
 
 " That is because you love us," said the thistle. 
 " I knew it the minute you came here. You said, 
 ' Oh, what a splendid thistle ! I never saw such 
 a big one.' Now a great many people would have 
 added, ' What horrid spines ! ' " 
 
 " I can't say I like your spines," said Alice hon- 
 estly. " I suppose you have good reason for grow- 
 ing them." 
 
 " Of course I have ! If you knew my life, and 
 all I have to contend with, you would not won- 
 der." 
 
 " I should like very much to know. Whatever 
 you have had to try you, you have been the one 
 to come out ahead. I never saw so tall a thistle ! 
 Why, you are nearly three feet high." 
 
 " That 's so," said the thistle, " and my spines 
 are very strong." 
 
 " Why do you have them ? " 
 
 " Well," replied the thistle, " I have a great 
 objection to being eaten up. The cows graze in 
 this pasture, and if I did not arm myself with 
 these spines they would have me, sure ! But I 
 do not wish to live through the season for myself 
 alone. I have some little seed-children to send 
 out into the world. Every mother desires life for 
 her children's sake." 
 
 " Why, of course," said Alice, " it is perfectly 
 right to grow spines for protection. The roses 
 do, and a good many other plants. You have a 
 very pretty cluster of leaves close to the ground. 
 
150 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 They spread out like a green rosette. Some of 
 them must be nearly a foot long. I have seen 
 these rosettes in the field without any stalk and 
 blossoms. I have stepped on them when I was 
 barefooted." 
 
 " I 'm sorry, Alice, but we thistles must live. 
 We are forced to be fighters. How do you like 
 my leaf .? " 
 
 " It is very curious. I see it is put on alter- 
 nately, and grows shorter as it nears the top." 
 
 " Do you notice what a stout mid-rib it has ? 
 That is because my leaf is so long. I like to stand 
 my leaves out, not let them droop. Everything 
 in a thistle means pluck, endurance, firmness. We 
 are the true warriors of the field." 
 
 " Your leaf reminds me a little of the dande- 
 lion's. It is cut in gashes, then it runs out in a 
 set of points. The centre is the longest. Each 
 point ends with a spine." 
 
 " If you look on the underside of the leaf, Alice, 
 you will see that the spine is the mid-rib of the 
 leaflet. It grows hard as it runs toward the end. 
 It says to itself, ' I have two things to do. I must 
 support my leaflet and make it stand out like a 
 banner. I must also be a sharp little sword to 
 protect my leaf.' " 
 
 " Your stalk is covered with little hairs, I see." 
 
 " Yes, I don't intend that any bugs shall come 
 crawling up me. But my blossom, Alice, — that 
 is my crown of joy." 
 
THE THISTLE 151 
 
 " I don't wonder, Madam Thistle. It looks like 
 a green jar swelling out at the sides and tapering 
 toward the top. Mother has a vase shaped just 
 like it. Your vase is crowded full with clusters 
 of lovely purple threads. They are like silken 
 fringes." 
 
 " If you will look into this vase, you will see a 
 bunch of shorter threads in the centre. They are 
 very white and silky. Pull out one of the purple 
 threads and there will be a bunch of silky hairs 
 clinging to it. By and by purple threads will push 
 up through the white bunch of silky threads in 
 the centre. My blossom will be beautiful then. 
 It will be richer than a king's royal robe. It will 
 be a perfect store-house of sweets. The bees will 
 have a great feast then, I 'm afraid. 
 
 " By and by my bright crown will fade and grow 
 brown and dry. The winds of autumn will beat 
 upon me. I shall spread my vase open wide, 
 and out will fly a host of little winged creatures. 
 Here is one now, Alice. I send it to you from 
 this faded blossom of mine." 
 
 Somethmg tickled Alice's cheek and she opened 
 her eyes. She put up her hand and caught the 
 visitor that Madam Thistle had sent to her. It 
 was a little hard, flat seed -case of light yellow- 
 brown. A withered thistle thread hung to it, and 
 on either side were tufts of white silk. 
 
 " Alice, dear," said Miss Merriam just behind 
 her, " what are you doing ? " 
 
152 
 
 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " I suppose I 've been asleep," said Alice ; " at 
 any rate Madam Thistle has been talking to me." 
 
 " What did she say ? " 
 
 Alice repeated as best she could the message of 
 the stately flower. Then Miss Merriam had .her 
 
 observe the strong, sweet odor of the blossom. 
 Alice also noticed that each silken thread of the 
 seed-case was like a most dainty white feather. 
 
 " Fly away, thistle seeds," said Miss Merriam. 
 " You have such pretty wings. Fly away until 
 
THE THISTLE 1 53 
 
 you find some new home. Then sink into the 
 brown earth and dream through winter hours. 
 Let me whisper a wonderful secret. Some day, 
 httle seed, you shall be a flower. Is that not 
 worth all the waiting and the dreaming ? " 
 
 XXXIX.— THE SOUL OF A BUTTERFLY. 
 
 OVER the fields where the brown quail whistles. 
 Over the ferns where the rabbits lie, 
 Floats the tremulous down of a thistle : 
 Is it the soul of a butterfly ? 
 
 See how they scatter and then assemble. 
 Filling the air while the blossoms fade, — 
 
 Delicate atoms that whirl and tremble 
 
 In the slanting sunlight that skirts the glade. 
 
 There goes the Summer's inconstant lover. 
 Drifting and wandering faint and far, 
 
 Only bewailed by the upland plover. 
 Watched by only the evening star. 
 
 Come next August, when thistles blossom. 
 
 See how each is alive with wings ! 
 Butterflies seek their souls in its bosom. 
 
 Changed thenceforth to immortal things. 
 
 Thomas Went worth Higginson. 
 
XL. — GOLDENROD AND ASTER 
 
 " Some gaudy prince has stayed here overnight : 
 For, look ! the roadside gleams in splendor bright 
 With gold-embroidered plumes that decked his train, 
 While stars of purple amethyst, like rain, 
 Have fallen from his robes." 
 
 James Berry Bensel. 
 
 ^<tea NE day, after 
 ^ "*' dinner, Uncle 
 Philip made one 
 of his sudden 
 calls. He pro- 
 posed a walk, 
 and as Alice ran 
 to get her hat 
 Tom strolled 
 into the yard. 
 He was only too 
 glad to go. 
 
 Alice was tell- 
 ing of the large 
 number of little 
 
 ones who had joined the school that day. They 
 
 were so sweet and loving. 
 
 Little Hubert Bell had run up in school to kiss 
 
 Miss Faith, who had come to assist Miss Merriam, 
 
 " 'cause you 're so pretty," he said. 
 
GOLDENROD AND ASTER I 55 
 
 Ever so many had talked aloud, and Tina Mason 
 had not been willing to go out at recess. 
 
 " I are a large girl now," she said. " I go to a 
 truly school, and I must 'tudy my 'esson." 
 
 Dolly had told them all about it. Dolly was 
 one of Miss Merriam's " big girls " now. 
 
 " We love the httle ones," said Alice. " Each 
 one of us had a little pupil for her own child. 
 We would help it dress and play with it at recess, 
 and give it things, and comfort it when it was 
 hurt." 
 
 " That was a very good plan," said Uncle Philip, 
 " very different from the one which ruled when I 
 was a little shaver. The big children used to 
 tease and hurt the little ones." 
 
 " How mean ! " cried Alice indignantly ; " our 
 scholars would never think of such a thing. The 
 grammar-school boys give the younger boys rides 
 on their double-runners and bicycles, and play ball 
 with them sometimes." 
 
 " If I saw a big fellow punch a little one I 'd — 
 I 'd punch him," said Tom, his big eyes darken- 
 ing. 
 
 " I like that spirit," said Uncle Phil; " it is manly 
 to care for and protect the weak. The savage 
 races had no idea of this. But as fast as people 
 get civilized they see that they must be gentle as 
 well as strong. That 's what is meant by the 
 ' brotherhood of man ' we hear so much about 
 in church. Do you know, children, that there is 
 
156 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 something very like this among animals and 
 plants ? 
 
 " When the buffaloes on the plains are attacked 
 by wolves, they put the mothers and little ones 
 in the centre. Then the males form a ring around 
 them and fight. 
 
 " There are sister bees who spend all their time 
 caring for the baby bees. 
 
 " I have known of winged mother-ants who bite 
 off their own wings when their little ones come 
 from the egg. These wings would be in the way, 
 so they give up flying through love for their 
 young." 
 
 " But you said ' plants,' too," cried Alice eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, and I can show you about it now just as 
 well as not. Suppose we sit down on this bank. 
 Tom, get me the finest plume of goldenrod you 
 can, roots and all. Alice, select the same of large, 
 purple asters." 
 
 The children came running back in a few mo- 
 ments with what Uncle Philip had desired. 
 
 " We '11 take the aster first. Tell me about the 
 roots, Alice." 
 
 " They are thread-like," said Alice. 
 
 " There 's a large, thick root in the centre of the 
 threads running sideways," said Tom. 
 
 " Why are there these two forms, Alice ? " 
 
 " The little ones reach out and get food from 
 the soil," said Alice, " but I don't know what the 
 large root is for." 
 
GOLDENROD AND ASTER 1 57 
 
 " The large root keeps the plant steady. The 
 goldenrod has one, too. It is so tall it needs more 
 support than the thread-like roots can give it," 
 said Tom, who often thought deeper than Alice. 
 
 " Here at your hand is an example of working 
 together, and' of helpfulness. The big root says 
 to the little ones, ' Spread out and get all the food 
 you can. I am so big and strong I '11 keep the 
 plant erect' 
 
 " Look at the aster-star : how many kinds of 
 flowers do you see there ? " 
 
 " I see yellow things in the centre, and purple 
 petals all about the edge," replied Alice. 
 
 " Look at the yellow things ; what are they 
 like .? " 
 
 Alice was silent for a moment, then said : " As 
 nearly as I can make out, they are like tubes." 
 
 " That is so, and each tube is a flower in itself. 
 There are hundreds of these tube-like flowers in 
 a head together. One such tube-flower would 
 make no show at all by itself. ' In union there 
 is strength,' you know. 
 
 " What you call petals are not petals at all, but 
 rays. We might speak of them as the big sisters 
 of the little yellow flowers. Now what do you 
 suppose they do for their wee sisters ? " 
 
 " Oh, what .? " cried Alice, with dancing eyes. 
 
 " They are just silken flags, hung out to tell the 
 bees that there is honey for sale in the yellow 
 tubes. When the bees come with their pollen- 
 
158 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 covered thighs and pay for honey with pollen, 
 don't you suppose the whole family is glad ? " 
 
 " I can see the two kinds of flowers in the 
 goldenrod," said Tom, who had been looking 
 keenly at the bright plume. 
 
 " We call such family flowers as goldenrod and 
 aster ' composite ' flowers. Can you think of any 
 others .? " 
 
 " There 's the daisy and sunflower," replied 
 Alice. 
 
 " Yes, — and the yellow daisy with a brown 
 centre," added Tom. 
 
 " You mean the rudbeckia, or Black-eyed Susan. 
 There 's something very pretty about the daisy. 
 If a sudden storm comes, the white rays fold above 
 the yellow flowers in the centre like a little tent. 
 You see how anxious the kind sister rays are to 
 protect the smaller flowers," said Uncle Philip. 
 
 " We are going to study the aster and golden- 
 rod in school this week. I shall remember all you 
 have told us. How is it you get such beautiful 
 ideas from the birds and flowers ? " 
 
 " Because I love them," said Mr. Lansing. 
 " They are my little brothers and sisters. The 
 same God who is my Father is their Father, too, 
 and cares for them with equal love. 
 
 " So, when I study a plant or animal, I think 
 not only how curious or beautiful it is, but how 
 much love and care is shown in it." 
 
 " Everything is beautiful," said Alice, as she 
 
GOLDENROD AND ASTER I 59 
 
 looked over the peaceful landscape fast gaining 
 its autumn tints. " Miss Merriam showed us 
 some dry leaves last year. After we had talked 
 about them, and noticed the color and the curves, 
 they no longer seemed ugly." 
 
 " And the oyster-shell they had in the grammar 
 classes," added Tom ; " don't you remember how 
 many colors they found in it ? " 
 
 " Look at little sorrel," said Uncle Phil. " What 
 a glowing crimson some of her leaves have turned ! 
 There is a wealth of color in even the humblest 
 weeds, if we will but stoop to look." 
 
 Alice went home with her head full of new 
 thoughts, so many lessons had come in one day. 
 
 A new world had been opened to her, not of 
 beauty alone, but of love and care in the humblest 
 wayside flower. After this the stately golden- 
 rod and tender-eyed aster would be more than 
 flowers to her. They would be friends, — a part 
 of that toiling, loving sisterhood to which she, 
 too, by nature belonged. 
 
XLL — THE WALK TO CHESTNUT RIDGE 
 
 " The chestnuts, lavish of their long-hid gold, 
 To the faint Summer, beggared now and old. 
 Pour back the sunshine hoarded 'neath her favoring eye." 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 iHY are you 
 eating so fast, 
 dear? " said 
 Mr. P r y o r. 
 " Is it only 
 ' ten minutes 
 for refresh- 
 ments ' ? " 
 
 " You see 
 it is Saturday 
 and we are 
 going nut- 
 ting," e X- 
 plained Alice. 
 " I wish I were going, 
 too," and Mr. Pryor tried to 
 look sober. " It would be 
 ever so much more interesting than dealing in 
 hides and leather all day long." 
 
 " It is n't fair for me to have so much play-time 
 
THE WALK TO CHESTNUT RIDGE l6l 
 
 and you so little," and Alice's bright face grew 
 anxious. 
 
 " Now, don't look like that, sweetheart. I 've 
 had my play-time, and now must work like the 
 rest of the grown-up world. You '11 be there soon 
 enough, my dear one." 
 
 " Poor dear little father," said Alice, patting his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Bring home some autumn sunshine for me," 
 said Mr. Pryor, as he rose from the table and 
 looked at the clock. 
 
 Alice ran to him and gave him a good hug- 
 
 ging. 
 
 " Be a good boy to-day, father dear," she said. 
 
 " I '11 try," said Mr. Pryor, kissing the tip of her 
 nose. 
 
 It was a glorious day, bright with the clear 
 autumn sunshine and glowing with color. Maples 
 were blazing in scarlet and gold. The birches 
 were clad in pale amber, while the chestnuts looked 
 very stylish in rich yellow-brown. 
 
 Near the schoolhouse stood great oaks, — domes 
 of terra-cotta red or brown, every leaf most ex- 
 quisitely colored. 
 
 Goldenrod waved her plumes by the roadside, 
 or crowded the little hollows in thick ranks. 
 From the -thickets, asters gleamed like gentle eyes 
 that mourned summer's departure. Everlasting 
 opened her white, golden-hearted clusters. 
 
 Sumac stood gorgeous in fiery crimson with 
 
1 62 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 great cones of golden-brown berries. Woodbine 
 clambered over wall and hedgerow like a trail of 
 flame, while mountain-ash held out pretty clusters 
 of light red. 
 
 Upon every breeze arose hosts of dainty, light- 
 winged creatures. The heralds of Madam Thistle 
 hurried along on tufts of gossamer. Milkweed 
 birds showed their brown breasts and snowy pin- 
 ions. 
 
 The clematis shook off her foam^like down. A 
 little later, and goldenrod and aster would join the 
 carnival of the winds. 
 
 Clover, sunburned little gypsy maid, was still 
 loitering by the way ; and here and there shone 
 the pale-blue stars of the chiccory. 
 
 The children ran down the streets in high 
 spirits. West Wind called to them from the pines, 
 where he played sweet melodies on their slen- 
 der harpstrings. Now he bent the heads of tall 
 grasses in the fields — autumn's aftermath : or 
 shouted from the maples, whose gaudy banners 
 quivered in his embrace. 
 
 By the time the schoolhouse was reached, at 
 least twenty children were in the party. They 
 walked through the woods, as they had done on 
 Alice's birthday. Fallen leaves carpeted the path, 
 and tall ferns, bleached to the palest yellow, peered 
 at them from the shadows. 
 
 Just before reaching Mr. Rolf's glen they turned 
 into a path leading around the base of Hancock 
 
THE WALK TO CHESTNUT RIDGE 1 63 
 
 Hill. Rags went ahead barking to ward off the 
 bears and bad dogs. Once in a while he left the 
 party to chase a wild rabbit, or stir up a partridge. 
 It was a great day for him. 
 
 Presently they came upon a stream which dashed 
 and foamed over the jagged rocks. The ravine 
 grew narrower. Great hills rose on either side. 
 The warm, bright air grew suddenly chill, and the 
 stream murmured hoarsely below. 
 
 The children walked along in silence as the 
 hills closed about them. It was so still, so far 
 removed from the haunts of men ! Yet the heart 
 of a great city beat only a few miles away. 
 
 At last they came out into a sunny field which 
 sloped to the road below. The children gave a 
 great shout and raced down the hill. Some of 
 them rolled down, very much alarming the little 
 autumn grasshoppers and crickets in the stubble. 
 
 After crossing the road they climbed a stone 
 wall and mounted another slope. Above them, 
 on a high ridge, stood a row of great chestnuts 
 rustling in golden robes. 
 
 From the ridge a beautiful view of the next 
 town, with its twin lakes, was spread out before 
 them. After the children had gained the top, 
 they sat down to rest. 
 
XLII. — WITH ROBIN HOOD 
 
 " Come where the horns are blowing, 
 Come to the merry greenwood, 
 Come, gentle lords and ladies. 
 To sport with Robin Hood." 
 
 Old Song. 
 
 AS they sat there, the sound of voices came to 
 them, and they saw caps gleaming among 
 the bushes. 
 
 Walter Carter gave a groan, and said, loudly 
 and rudely, " Some of those Hazeldale roughs ! 
 I believe they '11 try to get up a fight. I should n't 
 think they would come hanging round where no 
 one wants them." 
 
 A lad of twelve or thirteen came out of the 
 bushes and looked at them with steady eyes. 
 
 " I heard what you said," he remarked coolly. 
 " We are from Hazeldale school. But we are not 
 ' roughs,' if you mean by that disorderly boys. We 
 have come for chestnuts, as I suppose you have. 
 If there is any fight, we shall not be the ones to 
 start it. Now what have you to say ? " 
 
 Walter had nothing to say ; he had no excuse 
 for his rudeness. 
 
 " Who gave you permission to come on this 
 land anyway ? " went on the boy, coming a step 
 nearer. 
 
1 66 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " It is none of your business," retorted Walter. 
 
 " It is my business," replied the lad. " This 
 land belongs to my father, Mr. Waterbury." 
 
 " I don't believe it," said Walter saucily. 
 
 The boy stepped back and raised a toy bugle 
 to his lips. Its note was answered by a shout, and 
 boys came bursting upon the scene. Boys, boys, 
 everywhere ; from the bushes, from behind rocks 
 and trees, from the tall grass. They seemed to 
 rise from the very ground itself. They stood 
 about their leader armed with stout sticks, and 
 scowling at the intruders. 
 
 "What is it. Master ?" said one little fellow, 
 keen of face and dark of eye. 
 
 " Have these impudent strangers dared insult 
 your worship ? " 
 
 " One has, indeed, my gallant Allan A'Dale," 
 replied the lad. 
 
 " Does he deserve the death t " 
 
 A sudden light broke upon Guy's mind. He 
 stepped forward and took off his cap, bowing low. 
 
 " Brave Robin Hood," he said earnestly, "please 
 pardon him. He did not know your worship. 
 The rest of our party do not feel as he does. We 
 came to get nuts. But if we intrude upon your 
 domain, we will go. It will be hard lines, for we 
 have come far ; still, we will go." 
 
 A frank smile lit Robin Hood's face, and he 
 held out his hand graciously. Guy sank upon 
 one knee and kissed it. 
 
WITH ROBIN HOOD 1 67 
 
 " Rise, noble stranger," said the chief ; " I wel- 
 come you all to our merry-making. Will Loxley, 
 stand forth ! " 
 
 A slender, sunburned lad, with roguish eye, 
 sprang to his chief's side. 
 
 "My trusted lieutenant. What hither. Will 
 Scarlet ! " 
 
 A jolly little fellow, grinning from ear to ear, 
 tripped to the other side. 
 
 " Friar Tuck ! " A roly-poly lad, nearly as 
 broad as he was long, came sheepishly forward. 
 
 " These are my good men, a score all told," 
 said Robin Hood, waving his hand toward the 
 crowd. " We do not lead the chase to-day. The 
 red deer may lie low in his leafy covert : he shall 
 not be disturbed. 
 
 " We have come, like you, for nuts. The field 
 is wide, arid there are nuts enough for all. 
 
 " What ho, my gallant men ! Climb up and 
 beat down the nuts for these fair ladies." 
 
 The merry men sprang up in the trees and 
 began beating and shaking. The nuts, in their 
 rough burs, came tumbling down. Rags barked, 
 and it was all very exciting. 
 
 " How queer they are ! " whispered MoUie to 
 Alice as they stood aside watching the scene. 
 
 " They are just playing," said Alice. " Don't you 
 remember that the grammar pupils read ' Robin 
 Hood ' last year ? I think that boy is just 
 splendid ! " 
 
1 68 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 It was such fun, gathering nuts in the golden 
 October weather ! Jack Frost had cracked many 
 of the burs, so there was little trouble in getting 
 at the plump, brown contents. 
 
 Rags bustled about, advising every one, until he 
 stepped on a large bur. The pain drove him 
 away to a quiet place, where he sat down, ruefully 
 licking his foot. 
 
 Robin Hood looked at it carefully and pressed 
 out a long chestnut spine. 
 
 " Better stay here, little dog," he said, patting 
 him kindly. 
 
 At lunch they all sat together on the grass and 
 opened their baskets. Robin Hood and his men 
 sat with them. They exchanged sandwiches and 
 doughnuts, as if they had known one another all 
 their lives. 
 
 After dinner they rested, while Robin Hood 
 told the most stirring tales of adventure and hair- 
 breadth escape. The younger children were much 
 impressed, but the older boys and girls had read 
 it all before from a favorite book. 
 
 In the afternoon they were taken to the " merry 
 green wood," and shown the haunts of the chief 
 and his men. There were the bowers, made of 
 hemlock branches and carpeted with moss, where 
 the men were supposed to sleep. There was an 
 open space used as a council hall, with a great 
 rock as a throne. 
 
 The boys had made a rude table and benches 
 
WITH ROBIN HOOD 1 69 
 
 from some weather-worn boards " taken from the 
 king's own stables," as Robin Hood gravely in- 
 formed them. 
 
 There was a gloomy cavern, "where they re- 
 paired in times of great danger." As it could 
 hold perhaps three or four lads by dint of much 
 squeezing, it must have been a cherished refuge. 
 
 Robin Hood led them to a tiny pond of water 
 surrounded by dark forest trees. 
 
 " This is a bottomless pool," he said hoarsely, 
 " and here we plunge all traitors to our just 
 cause." 
 
 " How many times have you done it ? " inquired 
 Alice with twinkling eyes. 
 
 " Ask me not, fair lady," replied the chief, turn- 
 ing aside to hide his emotion. 
 
 Just then a bugle sounded from the path ahead. 
 
 " 'T is he, — the King's officer, sent to appre- 
 hend us," cried Robin Hood. " Flee, my men, — 
 flee, my guests ! Save these fair ladies first." 
 
 The children scattered as by magic. Some 
 climbed the trees, some hid in the bushes, or lay 
 with beating hearts in the evergreen tangles. 
 
 A panting lad who had been posted as watch- 
 man came rushing down the path shouting, " He 
 comes ! save yourselves ! " 
 
 It seemed very real, although the children knew 
 it to be but play. In a moment the district police 
 strolled by. He was a fat, good-humored old fel- 
 low, whom the children knew and liked. 
 
170 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 He looked from side to side with a broad grin, 
 and well he might grin. Alice's hat was in plain 
 sight among the bushes, and the noble chief's red 
 belt was a bit of color against a white-birch stem. 
 
 Davison's face grew as wrinkled as a baked 
 apple with his smiling. He trudged on, chuckling 
 to himself. 
 
 When the great peril was past, Robin Hood 
 blew his bugle and gathered his trusty men again. 
 Then began a remarkable dancing to the music 
 of one or two combs and a rickety jewsharp. 
 
 Alice thought those boys would actually wrig- 
 gle off their arms and legs. The spirit seized 
 them all. The visitors joined in, even the girls 
 catching up their frocks and skipping into the 
 circle. 
 
 They danced until they could dance no more, 
 dropping one by one on the pine needles, simply 
 worn out. Robin Hood was the last to stop. 
 " 'T is a general thanksgiving for our great deliv- 
 erance," he said gravely. 
 
 Rags sat upon the throne with an approving 
 smile. As usual, he thought it all for his benefit. 
 
 But the long, bright day drew to a close, as all 
 days must. 
 
 " How late it is ! " said Lesley. " We must start 
 for home, as we shall have to go around by road." 
 
 " I cannot allow you to depart without refresh- 
 ment," said Robin Hood. " A half mile hence 
 lives a trusty vassal of mine. Sir Herbert Water- 
 
WITH ROBIN HOOD 17! 
 
 bury. He and his lady bid our guests break bread 
 with them. After the feast, I myself and Sir Her- 
 bert's henchman will drive you home in the hay- 
 
 rigging-" 
 
 " But our mothers, — they will worry," said 
 
 Lesley. 
 
 " Leave it in my hands," said Robin Hood gra- 
 ciously. " A trusty varlet riding to the mail hath 
 scattered the news in your manor." 
 
 At the Waterbury house long tables had been 
 spread in both dining-room and kitchen. Mrs. 
 Waterbury, assisted by two smiling maids, flew 
 about, filling cups and offering stacks of bread 
 and butter, cake and cold fowl, to the hungry 
 children. 
 
 Rags sat in a high chair at Robin Hood's 
 right hand, a napkin pinned about his neck. On 
 the left was a splendid black cat with large yel- 
 low eyes. Tifhns had so stately and dignified an 
 appearance that Rags did not venture to bark at 
 him. 
 
 During supper Robin Hood vanished, and it 
 was only Rex Waterbury who laughed and chat- 
 ted with his guests. 
 
 Tom looked at him with the greatest admira- 
 tion. He noticed the firm mouth and keen yet 
 pleasant eye. He felt the power which made 
 him leader of so many other restless lads. Tom 
 would have been willing to follow also. 
 
 At last the hay-rigging stood at the door, and 
 
172 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 the laughing children clambered in. A great 
 golden moon was rising over the hills and shining 
 down upon the harvest fields. It smiled upon 
 them all the way. 
 
 It had been a charming time, and the baskets 
 of nuts were the least of the treasures they had 
 brought home. At last only three lads remained 
 in the rigging. 
 
 " Good-night ; come again," said Rex pleasantly 
 as Guy, Walter, and Norman jumped out over 
 the tail-board. 
 
 But Walter lingered. 
 
 " I was a donkey to you to-day," he said in a 
 low tone. 
 
 " Never mind," said Rex hastily ; " I 'ra glad 
 you see that we Hazeldale fellows are not quite 
 savages." 
 
 " But I apologize." 
 
 " 'T is forgotten," said Robin Hood graciously. 
 " Good-night again." 
 
 The boys listened as the rumble of the hay- 
 rigging died away in the distance; then they 
 turned homeward. 
 
 " Is n't he a brick ? " said Walter eagerly. I 
 will not repeat the answer. But any one who 
 knows boys may guess. 
 
XLIII. — BIRDS OF PASSAGE 
 
 ' With mingled sound of horns and bells, 
 A £ar-heard clang, the wild geese fly, 
 
 Storm-sent, from Arctic moors 
 and fells, 
 Like a great arrow through 
 the sky." 
 
 John G. Whittier. 
 
 HE children did not 
 realize it, but al- 
 ready their little 
 friends the birds 
 were stealing away to 
 their winter homes. 
 How quiet was this 
 leave-taking ! 
 
 First, that little winged rainbow of the flowers, 
 ruby-throated humming-bird, drifted toward the 
 Southland. One day they saw him dipping his 
 long beak into the morning-glory cups, as breezy 
 and cheerful as ever. In twenty-four hours he 
 had vanished and the garden knew him no more. 
 
 The gleams of orange and black, that had flitted 
 restlessly among the elm-boughs all summer, now 
 suddenly ceased. Only the wind-swept cradles 
 were left to tell the tale of the baby orioles that had 
 been rocked to sleep there many a summer night. 
 
174 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 Where was Mr. Bobolink, all chatter and im- 
 portance ? Where was that once jolly fellow now 
 
 " Sober with work and silent with care " ? 
 
 All summer long, the restless swallows had 
 darted in and out of the old barns, never quiet, 
 always on the wing. The day came when a sud- 
 den stillness told the story. The thrushes war- 
 bled sweet farewells about the porch and through 
 orchard ways ; then one listened in vain for their 
 silver carols. Troops of autumn birds from the 
 far north made their brief visits and then de- 
 parted. 
 
 Alice and Tom often saw great flocks of cheer- 
 ful little fellows darkening some wayside tree, or 
 perched in long rows on fence or telephone wire. 
 The next day they would be gone. 
 
 Robins, so bold and talkative through the spring 
 and early summer, became suddenly silent. They 
 were now more often seen in flocks, as if preparing 
 for flight. 
 
 As the leaves fell, the shriek of the bluejay was 
 heard in the grove where in spring days the wood- 
 pecker tapped briskly for his mate. Flocks of 
 chickadees, all in gray overcoats and jaunty black 
 caps, pecked among the wayside weeds. 
 
 Great glossy crows walked about over the bare 
 fields as if the earth were theirs, and man but a 
 willing servant. 
 
 One night Tom lay awake with a bad toothache. 
 After midnight the pain ceased. Tom pillowed 
 
BIRDS OF PASSAGE 175 
 
 his cheek upon a hot-water bag, and felt that at 
 last he might be able to sleep. 
 
 Mrs. Bennett was lowering the window before 
 going to her own room. 
 
 " What is that noise ? " said Tom, suddenly 
 starting up in bed. 
 
 Outside, the air seemed filled with a hoarse 
 clank and clangor. Mrs. Bennett opened the win- 
 dow and listened. 
 
 " It must be the wild geese going over," she 
 said. 
 
 " Oh, I want to see them," cried Tom, forget- 
 ing toothache and all. " I must see them, mother ! 
 Such a chance does n't come every day." 
 
 Mrs. Bennett bundled up Tom in an afghan, and 
 held him on her lap at the open window. 
 
 It was a dark night, — even the stars were hid- 
 den. The restless autumn winds were silent, and 
 the only sound that came to them was that hoarse 
 cry from overhead. 
 
 It was a sound which made even sturdy, sensible 
 Tom creep a little closer to his mother. It was a 
 confused mixture of voices, as if some were urging 
 and others objecting. There was the clash of 
 arms, as of foe meeting foe ; the shout of those 
 who won, and the sullen groan of the conquered. 
 
 " Come, little lad," said Mrs. Bennett, closing 
 the window as the last hoarse note died away. 
 " This is a strange performance when some one 
 has been almost crying from toothache all night." 
 
176 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " I don't care," replied Tom sturdily ; " it was 
 worth hearing, and I don't believe my teeth will 
 ache any more for it, either. Were the geese 
 flying at night because they were afraid to go in 
 the daytime ? " 
 
 "Perhaps so," replied Mrs. Bennett; "still, I 
 have often noticed flocks in the daytime. If you 
 watch to-morrow you may see one." 
 
 Tom cuddled the water-bag to his still sensitive 
 face, and fell asleep to dream of the wild, hoarse 
 crying. 
 
 A few days after, a flock actually passed over 
 the schoolhouse while the children were out at 
 recess. They gazed up at the great black arrow 
 traveling through the sky. 
 
 The strong-winged birds were higher up than 
 when Tom had heard them, but one could dis- 
 tinctly make out that strange battle-cry. 
 
 " They have come from Arctic moors," said 
 Miss Harris, " driven away doubtless by some sud- 
 den storm. When we see them in this climate 
 it is a pretty sure sign that winter is at hand. 
 They always move in that position, and have a 
 leader or commodore, whom they obey strictly." 
 
 " How do they know which way to go ? " asked 
 Bessie. 
 
 " There is a voice within them which tells them 
 to go and points out the way. The tiniest war- 
 bler may travel all those miles of air from North- 
 land to Southland and not miss the way. But 
 
BIRDS OF PASSAGE 1 77 
 
 not all the birds that start on the winter passage 
 reach the Southern rivers and orange groves. 
 Sudden storms overtake and bewilder them. The 
 hunters lie in wait for them. Some of them see 
 the lights in the lighthouse and dash themselves 
 against the glass. The next morning there will 
 often be scores of pretty creatures lying dead on 
 the sand below. 
 
 " But this is the sad side, and there is a brighter 
 one. Thousands of little songsters find their way 
 in perfect safety to the old orchards where they 
 were born, or where they built last year. The 
 same birds often build in the same places year 
 after year. 
 
 " We know that March will bring the first blue- 
 bird, and that, when wake-robin opens in the low 
 meadows, many more of our little feathered friends 
 will have appeared." 
 
XLIV. — JACK FROST HAS HIS WAY 
 
 " Then every morn the river's banks shine bright 
 With smooth plate-armor treacherous and frail, 
 By the frost's clinking hammers forged at night." 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 LICE wan- 
 dered out 
 into the gar- 
 d e n, and 
 looked disap- 
 pointed at the 
 blackened beds 
 and ruined borders. 
 Only yesterday she 
 had plucked a fine 
 bouquet to carry to 
 her teacher. 
 Now, where hardy asters had nodded in brave 
 bright ranks, there were only withered stalks 
 sparkling with hoar frost, and poor, blighted blos- 
 soms. The sweet-peas were no more. Here and 
 there, a bit of mignonette or candy-tuft remained 
 to tell the tale of the garden's former glory. 
 
 Where were the stiff, gaudy dahlias bristling 
 with pride ? Where were the hollyhocks, haunt 
 of the bustling bee ? Only a brief while before, 
 
JACK FROST HAS HIS WAY 1 79 
 
 nasturtium blew his trumpet from the piazza rail- 
 ing, and scarlet salvia lit garden ways with her 
 flaming torch. 
 
 Now all was blackness and desolation ; darkness 
 for rainbow tint, and decay for warm, summer 
 beauty. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! all the flowers are gone," 
 cried Alice. " I do love winter, but I hate to have 
 my lovely pets die. I know you, you Jack Frost ! 
 I know your little, cold hands that nip and sting." 
 
 Every fallen leaf had an edge of cold white 
 spangles. Every grass-blade stood up clad in a 
 robe of glistening down. Even the fence-rails 
 were stiff with icy points and scales. 
 
 The air was full of little needles, and the sun, 
 " a blood-red orange," looked dimly through the 
 ice-charged atmosphere. 
 
 Alice shivered a little : where was all the sum- 
 mer brightness ? Where was the sweet, peaceful 
 autumn sunshine that had made the long, bright 
 days so full of golden promise .? 
 
 She wandered down into a sheltered corner 
 where the bee-hives stood in a row. A cry of joy 
 came from the little girl. There, just before her, 
 was a great clump of marigolds, as yet spared by 
 Jack's cruel hands. 
 
 There they stood, the gorgeous growing blos- 
 soms ! Some were yellow as gold, others a deep 
 sunny brown with yellow crimped borders. 
 
 " You dear things ! " cried Alice. " You dear, 
 
l8o ALICE AND TOM 
 
 brave things ! I am going to pick you and carry 
 you to school. Miss Harris will fill the great 
 peacock-blue jar, and you '11 be a fine sight for a 
 dull day." 
 
 Alice's hands did quick work, and she ran into 
 the house with as many as she could carry. 
 
 " Autumn sunshine ! " said Mr, Pryor as he 
 met her in the hall. 
 
 " That is a good name for them," said the child, 
 hugging her burden closer. 
 
 " I meant something else as well," replied Mr. 
 Pryor, smiling, as he looked at the happy little 
 face. 
 
 On the board at school was a pretty sketch 
 of a laughing little sprite stealing through a clump 
 of flowers and striking them with his slender 
 wand. 
 
 " Is that Jack Frost ? " inquired Tom. 
 
 " I meant it for him," replied Miss Harris, " and 
 to-day we will talk of his capers." 
 
 After the lesson the pupils were asked to write 
 some stories about lively Jack. 
 
 Charlotte Hale, one of the older class children, 
 was noted for her pretty tales. Charlotte intended 
 writing a book at some future time. 
 
 Here is her story: — 
 
 A CHAT WITH LIVELY JACK. 
 
 I was on my way to school one morning, when 
 whom should I meet but Jack Frost. He was a 
 
JACK FROST HAS HIS WAY l8l 
 
 lively little fellow, in a cap and coat of ice span- 
 gles. 
 
 He held a long ice-wand, tipped with a star. 
 His sharp eyes were like gimlets, and seemed to 
 go through me. 
 
 " How do you do, Jack ? " I said. 
 
 " Glad to see you," he said, giving me such a 
 nip I almost cried. 
 
 " I don't like you, Jack," I said. " You are very 
 unkind." 
 
 " Why ? " he asked. 
 
 " You kill all my flowers, and just now you hurt 
 me." 
 
 " You are like all other mortals," said Jack. 
 " You forget the pleasant things and remember 
 only what you don't enjoy. What if I do kill the 
 flowers ? Is n't it time for them to go to sleep ? 
 Suppose the leaves do fall ? If you had worked 
 as busily as a tree all summer, you would be glad 
 to rest through winter days. 
 
 " How about the pictures on your window- 
 panes, — castles, bridges, forests, and winding 
 streams ? If it were not for me, would you have 
 them } How. about the crust I put over the 
 river ? I suppose you don't care for sliding and 
 skating ! 
 
 " There are some countries where I never go. 
 The people there are too tired ever to work. 
 Disease runs away wherever I come. I may put 
 the flowers to sleep, but I also kill the little things 
 
1 82 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 — I believe they call them germs — that make 
 illness and death. I make the blood run faster. 
 I make people work. Am I so bad a fellow ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, Jack," I said. " You are really a very 
 good fellow, only please don't shake hands with 
 me again." 
 
 As the days went on. Jack Frost had his will 
 more and more. Soon not a garden flower re- 
 mained. 
 
 Even little late Clover gave up the struggle and 
 fell by the way. The last frost flower tucked up 
 its toes and went to bed. 
 
 The leaves fell thicker and thicker, until only 
 the gaunt, bare branches were left to tell of all the 
 summer bower and shade. 
 
 The hoar frost lay thicker each morn upon the 
 yellow stubble. Summer was far away. Even 
 Autumn had vanished and white-headed Winter 
 stood at the door. 
 
XLV. — THE FIRST SNOW-FALL 
 
 " Out of the bosom of the air, 
 
 Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, 
 Over the woodlands brown and bare. 
 Over the harvest fields forsaken. 
 Silent and soft and slovif 
 Descends the snow.'' 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 OME very 
 cold days fol- 
 lowed, to the 
 delight of the 
 school chil- 
 Jack Frost had 
 his word, and 
 covered the pond with 
 a crystal blanket. 
 Every morning the larger boys tested the ice, 
 saying hopefully to one another, " Guess it will 
 bear to-morrow : don't you think so ? " 
 
 Skates were carefully sharpened, and the skies 
 watched most anxiously. The interest in the 
 thermometer must have gratified the Clerk of the 
 Weather, had that wise old gentleman been aware 
 of it. 
 
 Alice got out her fur-trimmed jacket and hood, 
 
184 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 and even thought seriously of wearing two pairs 
 of mittens. 
 
 Rags pretended to be very much afraid of her 
 squirrel muff, and barked violently when it ap- 
 peared. 
 
 " Rags ! " said Tom severely, " don't you know 
 the difference between live things and things that 
 are dead ? " 
 
 " Oh, my ! " barked Rags, very much crestfallen. 
 " So we dogs can't have our little jokes, eh ? " 
 
 About this time Rags came out in a blanket 
 that was the envy of all his mates. It was of 
 bright red cashmere, lined and wadded, and 
 trimmed with rosettes of black satin ribbon. 
 
 The first day he wore it he trotted proudly 
 along, looking neither to the right nor left. He 
 would not speak to any of his friends, but held 
 his nose high in the air in foolish pride. 
 
 The next day, however, he must have had bet- 
 ter thoughts, for he was his old friendly self. He 
 even invited several little dogs to the house, and 
 shared his choice bones with them. 
 
 The cold weather continued, and at last the 
 pond was pronounced safe. Then there came 
 such a carnival of skating and sliding as the town 
 had never before seen. 
 
 Boys got up early and went without their break- 
 fasts for the sake of an extra " skate." Girls hur- 
 ried their practicing in order to go around the 
 pond once or twice before school. 
 
THE FIRST SNOW-FALL 1 85 
 
 One long recess Miss Faith took her little ones 
 over, and the older children drew them about on 
 sleds or ice-chairs which the boys had rigged. 
 
 Every afternoon the ice was covered with gay 
 figures, and every evening bonfires blazed there, 
 and the shouts of the skaters could be heard 
 until nearly midnight. 
 
 As you may readily guess, lessons suffered 
 somewhat among the older pupils. But the 
 teachers were patient : they knew it was a fine, 
 healthful sport, and such a glorious chance did 
 not occur every year. 
 
 Great games of hockey were played on the ice, 
 and some of the gentlemen left their business 
 early to enjoy the Canadian game of " curling." 
 If you don't know what that is, ask your teacher, 
 who surely will. 
 
 One Saturday, when the whole school was on 
 the ice, the sound of a bugle came from the 
 upper end of the pond. Robin Hood and his 
 men dashed down among them, and they had an- 
 other exciting time together. 
 
 In all, there were ten or a dozen days of skat- 
 ing ; then the.weather suddenly grew milder. 
 
 " I believe it 's going to snow," said Tom, look- 
 ing up into the dull gray sky. 
 
 " Oh ! I 'm almost sorry," cried Alice. " I did 
 hope for one more day on the ice." 
 
 " It was not much good yesterday," said Tom. 
 "It was getting almost sloshy. Now, if we can 
 
1 86 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 only have snow enough for good coasting, won't it 
 be jolly ! " 
 
 When school was half over, Percy, who had 
 glanced up at the window, cried, " Hurrah ! it 's 
 snowing ! " 
 
 How the faces brightened ! Some of the ex- 
 cited children laughed aloud. Miss Faith's little 
 ones were so happy that they could think of 
 nothing else but the lovely, feathery flakes. 
 
 At recess, every child in the building was out 
 trying to catch the white wonders. Some held 
 up dark cloths and" watched the pretty shapes as 
 they floated down. 
 
 There were snowflakes like feathers and snow- 
 flakes like ferns. Others had three sides, some 
 six, and some were like tiny stars. 
 
 The grammar-school children had their magni- 
 fying-glasses to hold over the flakes. Guy made 
 a hasty sketch of one in his note-book and brought 
 it to Mr. Minot. 
 
 Many of the younger children ran home and 
 pulled out their sleds, expecting a coast that very 
 day. 
 
 II 
 
 Alice and Tom played out in the snow until 
 five o'clock. It fell so thick and fast that they 
 made snowballs and pelted one another and Rags, 
 who enjoyed the fun as well as any one. 
 
 Of course the small dog barked at the falling 
 flakes ; it was a plain duty. But the little white 
 
THE FIRST SNOW-FALL 1 87 
 
 feathers came down as briskly as ever, notwith- 
 standing. 
 
 After Ahce was called in and had changed her 
 damp skirts, she knelt by the window and gazed 
 out into the white world. The air was full of 
 whirling flakes. Some rode fast and furiously, 
 others sailed down with stately grace. 
 
 The trees were covered with ermine ; hardly 
 a naked twig could be seen. The flower-beds on 
 the lawn lost their outlines, and the whole surface 
 became one uniform sheet of white. 
 
 A flock of chickadees settled on the syringa- 
 bush, shaking away the flakes and searching for 
 seeds. Alice ran for some crumbs .and scattered 
 them over the snow. 
 
 The birds flew joyously down and ate as only 
 hungry birds will. Alice saw their tiny foot-prints, 
 which the ever busy snowflakes sought to cover. 
 
 She watched them gradually disappear, and 
 then said to herself, " I am really sleepy. It 's 
 the warm room, after being out in the cold." 
 
 " We are never sleepy," said a tiny voice. 
 
 Alice jumped up eagerly, for on -the other side 
 of the pane a group of snow fays were tapping. 
 
 " Come out, Alice, and have a ride," they called 
 impatiently ; " the great swan will not wait." 
 
 The next moment she found herself in the 
 thick of the storm. A crowd of little elves pressed 
 about her, danced up and down, clapped their 
 hands, and gave every sign of joy. 
 
1 88 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Now we 've got her, darling Alice ! More of 
 you to the left ! Steady, now ! " they cried, in 
 fine, sweet voices. 
 
 " Why, I 'm not cold one bit," she said, in great 
 surprise. 
 
 " Of course you 're not," chorused the snow 
 fays ; " snow is the warmest blanket in the world. 
 Does n't Mother Nature use it to cover her most 
 precious secrets during the winter.? But when 
 you ride on the swan you '11 be warmer still. 
 There he is ! Steady now ! " 
 
 Ahce found herseliE on the back of a great white 
 bird, whose downy plumage rose up about her 
 with the most delightful warmth. Away they 
 went, some of the snow fays clustering on either 
 side, others flying in advance to clear the way. 
 
 " Where are we going ? " asked Alice. 
 
 " Wherever you like. Sweetheart," said the 
 great bird. 
 
 " I should like to go to Greenland and see 
 Agoonack, if it is not too far." 
 
 " We '11 have you there in a very short time." 
 
 Alice had never had such a delicious feeling as 
 that which the ride with the snowflakes gave her. 
 It was like floating on the softest sea, yet it had 
 all the freedom of the bird's motion. 
 
 The snowflakes about her changed into all 
 kinds of shapes. Sometimes they were clusters 
 of fairy-like blossoms. Then they were flocks of 
 white birds who sang her sweet melodies and 
 
THE FIRST SNOW-FALL 1 89 
 
 then flitted away. They were curious- shapes, 
 that changed every moment. 
 
 The snow fairies told her stories of the dancing 
 water-drop sisters who were scattered into fragile 
 mist fays by the great sun. They whispered the 
 secrets of the mystic change from vapor to frost, 
 from rain to hail and snow. 
 
 It seemed so simple, even if wonderful, and 
 Alice longed to remember it all to carry home 
 to mother. 
 
 " Look below, Alice, if you wish to see Agoo- 
 nack," said the white bird. 
 
 The snowflakes had disappeared, and the sky 
 was a dark yet clear blue. Overhead the great 
 stars sparkled. Down below, a short, fat, fur- 
 covered figure was running toward a sledge drawn 
 by little brown dogs. 
 
 " O Agoonack, darling ! " cried Alice, stretch- 
 ing out her arms. 
 
 " Come to supper, dear," said Mr. Pryor, raising 
 Alice from the floor, where she had fallen. 
 
 " Have I come back from riding with the snow 
 elves .'' " asked Alice, rubbing her eyes. 
 
 " You seem here in the body, but I think your 
 mind is still away," laughed Mr. Pryor, pinching 
 one rosy cheek. " Have you been with little Kay 
 at the Snow Queen's feet? " 
 
 " Well, it was the most real dream ! " persisted 
 Alice. 
 
XLVL— THE CHRISTMAS SILENCE 
 
 •w" 
 
 d—^ 
 
 T7USHED are the 
 pigeons cooing 
 low 
 On dusty rafters of 
 
 the loft ; 
 And mild-eyed oxen, 
 breathing soft, 
 Sleep on the fragrant 
 hay below. 
 
 Dim shadows in the 
 corner hide ; 
 
 The glimmering lan- 
 tern's rays are 
 shed 
 
 Where one young 
 lamb just lifts 
 his head, 
 
 Then huddles 
 against his mo- 
 ther's side. 
 
 Strange silence tingles in the air ; 
 Through the half-open door a bar 
 Of light from one low-hanging star 
 Touches a baby's radiant hair. 
 
THE CHRISTMAS SILENCE I9I 
 
 No sound : the mother, kneeUng, lays 
 Her cheek against the little face. 
 Oh human love! Oh heavenly grace! 
 'T is yet in silence that she prays ! 
 
 Ages of silence end to-night ; 
 Then to the long-expectant earth 
 Glad angels come to greet His birth 
 In burst of music, love, and light ! 
 
 Margaret Deland. 
 
XLVIL — THE WINTER WOODS 
 
 " The snowbird twittered on the beechen bough ; 
 And 'neath the hemlock, whose thick branches bent 
 Beneath its bright, cold burden, and kept dry 
 A circle on the earth of withered leaves, 
 The partridge found a shelter. Through the snow 
 The rabbit sprang away " 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 ALICE sat by the fire buried in her favorite, 
 " Alice in Wonderland." The March Hare 
 and the Hatter were just stuffing the Dormouse 
 into the teapot, when a sharp tap came on the 
 window. 
 
 Uncle Phil in golf suit and Miss Merriam in 
 bicycle dress were outside. Tom stood smiling 
 between them. Alice ran, laughing, to the door. 
 
 "Come, Alice!" said Uncle Phil, "scramble 
 into that wonderful snow suit of yours. We are 
 going into the woods." 
 
 Alice ran joyfully away, returning as a comical 
 little figure in blue reefer, mittens, and leggings. 
 Over her skirts she had drawn a pair of bright 
 red woolen snow-drawers. With the tucked-in 
 skirts, Alice was more like a fat Dutch boy than 
 an American maiden. A red cap with bobbing 
 tassel was drawn over her head. 
 
 All the party buckled on snowshoes and 
 
194 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 skimmed over the fleecy whiteness hke so many 
 wild birds. Rags cried mournfully from the barn 
 chamber as they flew past. 
 
 Frida's mother saw them, and thought to her- 
 self, " Mrs. Pryor is bringing up Alice just like a 
 boy. How can she let her go out on such a freez- 
 ing day and before the roads are broken ? " 
 
 But Alice sped on, unknowing. Sometimes, in 
 her eagerness to outdo Tom, she would trip her- 
 self up with the points of her snowshoes. There 
 would be a desperate wallowing in the drifts, as if a 
 red and blue puppy were scrambling about. Then 
 Uncle Phil would pull her out, and set her on 
 her feet panting and glowing, with mouth full of 
 snow, yet laughing like a crazy little elf. 
 
 They stopped to rest on a high ridge overlook- 
 ing miles of pleasant country. At the right, the- 
 horizon's edge showed a sparkling strip of blue 
 flecked with white sails. In front rose the spires 
 of a great city, and beyond a range of purple hills. 
 A few crows were walking along the edge of the 
 river, black dots against the intense whiteness. 
 
 " What a white, white world ! " said Miss Mer- 
 riam, " and how the snow covers up and makes 
 equal all things ! " 
 
 " Yes," replied Uncle Phil ; " that old gravel-pit 
 and stony field of Uncle William's are as softly 
 curving, as full of dimpling hollows, as ' Mary's 
 Meadow.' It is like the rain on the ' just and the 
 unjust' " 
 
THE WINTER WOODS 1 95 
 
 " Please, what do you mean ? " said Tom, who 
 must always have everything made plain. 
 
 " Just this," replied Uncle Phil kindly : " Na- 
 ture gives everything a chance. She cares for the 
 burdock as well as the lily, and the snake equally 
 with the noble, intelligent horse." 
 
 "Well, I don't see any use in three things, — '- 
 snakes, English sparrows, and mosquitoes," said 
 Tom decidedly. 
 
 "I know the sparrows are quarrelsome and 
 drive our sweet song-birds away," said Alice. 
 "When people talk of killing them I feel glad; 
 but then the baby sparrows are so pretty ! The 
 brown is so bright, and their breasts are so soft 
 and gray, and I like that white ring about their 
 necks. Somehow, I cannot help liking them a 
 little. How do you think we ought to feel } " 
 
 " Oh, don't ask me^' said her uncle, laughing. 
 " Let us leave such questions to the wise men, 
 and take up our tramp again." 
 
 They passed from the open field to the shelter 
 of the woods. Outside, a keen, brisk wind had 
 been blowing. Within, it was calm and still. Not 
 a breath ruffled the pallid ghost ferns that lined 
 their path ; not a feathery flake fell from the snow- 
 wreathed plumes of hemlock and spruce. The 
 white birches stood in suits of glittering mail. 
 
 It was so silent, so strange, so spotless, that 
 Alice was awed. " It is like the Snow Queen's 
 home where Gerda went to find little Kay," she 
 thought. 
 
196 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Is n't this a wild rabbit's track, Uncle Phil?" 
 asked Tom. Before Mr. Lansing could reply, 
 there was a flash of gray and the scud of four 
 little frightened feet. 
 
 " Good for you. Bunny ! " cried Uncle Phil ; 
 "but no one in this party is after your ladyship." 
 
 " Even the wild rabbit has a winter dress to 
 match the snow," said Miss Merriam. " Nature is 
 always looking out for her children, Tom." 
 
 " Here are a lot of wood-mice tracks," said 
 Uncle Phil, pausing by a large nut-tree. " I 
 fancy the little rascals have their storehouses 
 not far away." 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Phil," cried Alice, " mother read 
 me a story from Mr. Burroughs about some mice 
 who had a hoard of beech-nuts in a sugar-maple 
 tree. 
 
 " There were two doors, — one a little hole up 
 high, the other a larger one at the foot, leading to 
 the storehouse. 
 
 " A red squirrel tried to break in at the upper 
 door. While he was trying, the mice carried out 
 the nuts by the lower door to a hole they had 
 underground. Don't you think the squirrel was 
 vexed when he found out the trick ? " 
 
 " I don't doubt it, and I can imagine that the 
 mice laughed in their whiskers to think how 
 neatly they were fooling Mr. Squirrel." 
 
 " Tell me. Uncle Phil," said Alice, who had 
 been gazing up into the pines, " why the lower 
 
THE WINTER WOODS 1 97 
 
 stems of the pines are all dead ? When you look 
 up, there are very few live branches overhead. 
 All the needles seem to be on the outside of the 
 tree and toward the ends of the branches." 
 
 "That's so in 'most any big tree," said Tom. 
 " The leaves are on the outside, like a tent or the 
 walls of a house. Have n't you noticed that when 
 you were lying on the ground and looking up ? " 
 
 " Why, yes ; so I have. I have seen the birds 
 fly to and fro from branch to branch, when you 
 could n't see them outside," said Alice. 
 
 " That means a very real page from a tree's life- 
 history," said Mr. Lansing. " Now let us think a 
 little. What keeps the leaves alive, Tom ? " 
 
 " Air, rain, sunshine from outside, and sap from 
 inside," said Tom slowly. 
 
 " Do all the leaves have the same chance ? " 
 
 " I should think the ones on the outside would 
 get the most sunshine." 
 
 "Just so; and every leaf -cluster stretches and 
 strains to get near the coveted place. If you 
 should look at an oak branch, you would see 
 that nearly all the leaves are on the ends of the 
 branches. 
 
 " Every stem has made itself long, and the leaf- 
 blade has reached out in almost a horizontal posi- 
 tion just to get to the sunshine. But at the top 
 of the tree, where there is no such fierce crowd- 
 ing, the stems are shorter and the leaves take 
 various positions." 
 
igS ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " I suppose many of the leaves get covered up 
 and have no chance at all," said Alice, much in- 
 terested. 
 
 " Yes, that is specially true of the pine. After 
 a while the lower branches give up the struggle, 
 as we see here. But there is another reason. 
 Our single pines in the north pasture are not 
 like these." 
 
 " These pines are all together ; none of them 
 has enough room," said Alice. 
 
 " You are right, dear ; crowding of any kind 
 affects growth." 
 
 Just then a shrill chatter came from the tops of 
 some large nut-trees. 
 
 " Blue-jays ! " said Miss Merriam ; " the cold 
 weather has been hard on them lately. I fed 
 a dozen or more from our dining-room windows 
 yesterday." 
 
 " I heard a redpoll trill only this morning," said 
 Uncle Phil. " We ought to see the little fellows 
 in this wood." 
 
 " I used to think the woods in winter were dead 
 and still," said Tom. " But we 've found rabbits 
 and mouse-tracks ; we 've heard crows and blue- 
 jays. There ! is n't that a woodpecker ? " 
 
 " Very likely," replied Mr. Lansing, " and, we 
 may add, owls in the hollow trees, muskrats in the 
 swamps, and — look here — fox-tracks ! The 
 Club -will be on the hunt before long. You would 
 better stay indoors, Reynard ! " 
 
XLVIIL— THE TREES IN WINTER 
 
 " How tender and how slow, in sunset's cheer, 
 Far on the hill, our quiet tree-tops fade ! 
 A broidery of northern seaweed, laid 
 Long in a brook, were scarce more fine and clear. 
 Frost, and sad light, and windless atmosphere 
 Have breathed on them, and of their frailties made 
 Beauty more sweet than summer's builded shade. 
 Whose green domes fall, to bring this wonder here." 
 
 Louise Imogen Guiney. 
 
 ALICE," said Mrs. Pryor, "will you take the 
 Club books to Colonel Appleton after 
 dinner ? " 
 
200 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " Oh, yes, mother dear," replied AHce eagerly, 
 " and may I stay — if I am asked ? " 
 
 "I think so," said Mrs. Pryor; "only not too 
 long." 
 
 Alice found her friend pacing up and down 
 his avenue. 
 
 " Have you come to play with me ? " he asked 
 roguishly, as he shook hands. 
 
 " If you wish to have me," replied Alice. 
 
 " Suppose we take the books in and then come 
 out again. I like this mild weather when I can 
 stay out. I 've been laid up with rheumatism 
 since Tuesday. So glad you 've come to play 
 with me," said the colonel, squeezing the child- 
 hand, for Alice was a great pet of his. 
 
 They left the books in the library, and Alice 
 went to the parlor to speak to Madam Appleton, 
 who sat knitting by the fire. 
 
 A great mastiff arose from the hearth-rug and 
 offered a huge paw to Alice. A red-and-green 
 parrot sat on its perch in the bay window, and 
 remarked, as Alice greeted Madam Appleton, " A 
 cold day for chickens ! " 
 
 " Yes, it has been very cold weather," repeated 
 Madam, as she kissed the rosy cheek. " I hope 
 you are very careful, dear, not to expose yourself. 
 Little girls cannot be too prudent in winter." 
 
 Alice smiled as she remembered her trip to the 
 woods, and her long hours of coasting and skat- 
 ing and tumbling about in the drifts. 
 
THE TREES IN WINTER 20I 
 
 " That 's right, clear out ! " said Polly politely, 
 as the door closed. 
 
 " Where would you like to go, Alice ? " inquired 
 Colonel Appleton. 
 
 " I like the avenue," replied Alice. " Your 
 elms are beautiful. Father says there are no such 
 trees in the whole county as yours." 
 
 " I agree with him," said the colonel, looking 
 very much pleased. " And are you also fond of 
 trees, little maid ? " 
 
 " I just love them," cried Alice. " They seem 
 like people. If I were not a little girl I 'd choose 
 to be a great, splendid tree. I like them in win- 
 ter, too, when the leaves are off : you can see 
 the shape so well. Our teachers have been ask- 
 ing us to notice them." 
 
 " What have you found out so far } " 
 
 " Only a little. The American elm is like a 
 Greek burial urn. Uncle Phil says the main 
 branches spout up and fall away like a fountain. 
 
 " The maple is dome-shaped, and the hemlocks 
 and spruces are like cones. A row of poplars 
 are like so many quills " — 
 
 " You have used your eyes well. Ladybird. 
 Now, I think it is very interesting to see how the 
 trees branch. Look at the old willow where we 
 have had so many tea-drinkings. How does that 
 branch out ? " 
 
 '' The trunk ends where the branches begin. 
 
202 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 They spring away from it in a bunch, like the 
 spokes of a wheel. I never noticed it before." 
 
 " Look at the Lombardy poplar near the gate. 
 Does the trunk divide ? " 
 
 " No, it runs to the very top. The stem must 
 do the same in the hemlocks and spruces." 
 
 " Now here 's a maple : how does that branch 
 out?" 
 
 " Something like the poplar, only the branches 
 spread more, and are more nearly horizontal. 
 The trunk runs to the top also, and the limbs 
 alternate." 
 
 " Can you find a tree where the limbs are oppo- 
 site .? " 
 
 Alice looked around over the park. Near the 
 terrace stood a noble beech, the glory of the 
 estate. Often had she lain under its shade in sum- 
 mer and watched the pale, golden-green lights 
 that fell upon the turf as the sun sifted through 
 its tender leaves. Such a green never came 
 through any other kind of foliage, so father said. 
 
 Now that crown of verdure had fallen, and 
 Alice could see how horizontally the branches 
 were placed, and that they were opposite as well. 
 
 " Yes, you are right," said the colonel : " our 
 beech is as fine an example of that kind of branch- 
 ing as one could wish to see. A growing tree is 
 such a wonderful thing. From the moment the 
 sap begins to stir, up to the time when everything 
 
THE TREES IN WINTER 2O3 
 
 is frost-bound, the tree is growing in a way we 
 can scarcely realize. 
 
 " Think of the thousands of tiny rootlets search- 
 ing about in the soil for the hidden springs ! 
 Think of the millions of little mouths on the 
 underside of the leaves as eagerly seeking for 
 what the air and sunshine "can give ! 
 
 " In storm or sunshine it stands, — growing, 
 growing, always doing its best. You were not 
 far out of the way in saying that trees made you 
 think of people, Alice. They are braver, wiser, 
 more prudent than we think. Let me show you 
 what I mean." 
 
 Colonel Appleton pulled down a horse-chestnut 
 branch and pointed out the buds to her. " Do 
 you see any difference in them .? " he inquired. 
 
 " Some are larger than others." 
 
 " Where do the largest buds come .? " 
 
 " Out at the ends of the twigs." 
 
 " Now these very smallest ones are not devel- 
 oped, may never be any different. But if any 
 accident kills the main buds, these smaller buds 
 will take their places and grow as bravely as pos- 
 sible. Is that not prudent, Alice?" 
 
 "Why do some trees have such wrinkled bark 
 and others smooth .? " said Alice, looking at a 
 great elm near the gate. 
 
 " Come where we chopped down a tree, a few 
 days ago, and I '11 try to show you." 
 
 The great trunk lay upon the snow, its freshly 
 
204 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 exposed surface shining bright yellow against the 
 whiteness. 
 
 "What do you see there? " the colonel asked, 
 tapping it with his cane. Alice stooped and 
 looked at the wood. 
 
 " I see rings," she said, " rings and rings, in the 
 wood, and they '11 show plainer when the wood is 
 drier." 
 
 " Every year the tree grows one ring about 
 itself. As the wooden cylinder grows thicker, 
 what does it do to the bark, Alice ? " 
 
 " It must push against it." 
 
 " Yes, the bark has to stretch, just as your skin 
 does, as you grow bigger and bigger. By-and-by, 
 however, the bark stretches all it can, and then 
 it begins to crack. Sometimes the bark grows so 
 thick and strong that the trunk cannot expand. 
 Then the tree becomes what we call ' bark-bound.' 
 
 " It shows, especially in fruit-trees, that the soil 
 has grown poor and that the trees have been 
 neglected. We have to wash the trunk in soft 
 soap or lye to soften the bark." 
 
 " How much you know ! " said Alice, looking 
 up into the kind old face with love and reverence. 
 " You are so good to us always." 
 
 " It is because you bring the spring and summer 
 to my autumn and winter," said the dear old man. 
 
 " We love you so," went on Alice earnestly. 
 " When you were so ill, we cried and cried. Even 
 some of the boys cried in school, and none of us 
 
THE TREES IN WINTER 2O5 
 
 could work. Oh, you won't get ill again ? You 
 are going to stay with us a long, long time ? " 
 
 Alice's voice trembled, and tears sparkled in 
 her dark-blue eye. 
 
 " Oh, yes, Sweetheart, — a long time yet, let us 
 hope," said the colonel, much moved. 
 
 " ' Grow old along with me, 
 The best is yet to be ! ' 
 
 " We '11 have many a good time together under 
 the old trees." 
 
 So the two friends walked on happily under 
 the leafless branches and in the pleasant winter 
 sunshine ; for, with child and old man alike, it 
 was summer in the heart. 
 
XLIX. — THE CHICKADEE 
 
 PIPED a tiny voice hard by, 
 Gay and polite, a cheerful cry, 
 Chick-chickadeedee ! saucy note, 
 Out of sound heart and merry throat. 
 As if it said, " Good day, good sir ! 
 Fine afternoon, old passenger ! 
 Happy to meet you in these places, 
 Where January brings few faces." 
 This poet, though he live apart. 
 Moved by his hospitable heart. 
 Sped, when I passed his sylvan fort, 
 To do. the honors of his court. 
 As fits a feathered lord of land ; 
 Flew near, with soft wing grazed my hand ; 
 Hopped on the bough, then, darting low. 
 Prints his small impress on the snow, 
 Shows feats of his gymnastic play, 
 Head downward, clinging to the spray. . . . 
 This scrap of valor, just for play. 
 Fronts the north wind in waistcoat gray. 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 
L. — A DAY IN FEBRUARY 
 
 ' The day is ending. 
 The night is descending ; 
 The marsh is frozen, 
 The river dead. 
 
 ' Through clouds like ashes 
 The red sun flashes 
 On village windows 
 That glimmer red." 
 
 LO.VGFELLOW. 
 
 T is hard to have a birth- 
 day without any party or 
 presents or mother, either." 
 AHce's kind words brought 
 a sudden comfort to Tom's 
 sore Httle heart. It was 
 the twenty-eighth of February, 
 and the dear lad was nine years 
 old. He could not remember a 
 year before when the birthday 
 candles had not been lighted at 
 his party. How forlorn seemed 
 the contrast ! 
 Dear Grandma was very ill, 
 and Mr. and Mrs. Bennett were at 
 her bedside. Tom was alone in the 
 house with the servants, and no one had thought 
 
208 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 of his birthday. He knew that sooner or later 
 some one would remember him. So he crowded 
 back his heartache, and tried to be as busy and 
 cheerful as possible. 
 
 It was a dull, dreary day. The gray skies over- 
 head looked as if they might at any moment send 
 down a crowd of spiteful little snowflakes, armed 
 with darts to sting and annoy. The black trees 
 lifted gaunt arms against the sullen sky. 
 
 A sad wind moaned through the dry, shivering 
 grasses by the river's brink. And the river itself, 
 gay singer in summer days, as it ran through 
 daisied meadows, now lay silent under its ice- 
 blanket. 
 
 " Come over after dinner, Tom," said Alice at 
 parting. " We 11 play beanbags, or look at the 
 new photographs Uncle Phil sent." 
 
 As Alice entered the house Mr. Pryor met her, 
 his finger on his lips. 
 
 " Mother is ill," he whispered. 
 
 Alice's little face lost every trace of color. She 
 tried to speak, but could only sob brokenly. 
 
 " Why, Sweetheart, don't be alarmed," said 
 father hastily, putting his arm about her. " Dear 
 mother is in no danger, and you may see her after 
 dinner. 
 
 " Now you and I are to eat together : won't that 
 be fun .? Emma has made corn fritters, for one 
 thing, and you know what a fellow I am for 
 Emma's fritters." 
 
A DAY IN FEBRUARY 2O9 
 
 The red stole up in Alice's cheeks, and a great 
 tear made its way down. Father kissed the tear 
 away, feeling that he had been very clumsy in his 
 dealings with this lovely child-heart. 
 
 After dinner they went upstairs together. Mrs. 
 Pryor greeted Alice with a bright smile and loving 
 kiss. " Your sister has been waiting to see you," 
 she said, turning back the sheet. 
 
 Alice's heart gave a great leap and her head 
 whirled ; for a moment she could not see. 
 
 " God has sent us another dear child," said Mrs. 
 Pryor, lifting the wee hand and placing it in 
 Alice's. 
 
 " I feel as if she were more yours than mine ; 
 you have wanted a sister for such a long time." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Pryor, "this is Alice's baby, 
 and her big sister shall give her a name. What 
 shall it be, Sweetheart ? " 
 
 Alice looked down upon the new sister with 
 a heart full of joy. A baby sister to love and care 
 for and watch every day! Could she ever be 
 good enough, kind enough, careful enough, to 
 deserve such a blessing } 
 
 It was so tiny, so fragile, so soft, with its little 
 downy head and rose-leaf hands ! Alice knelt by 
 the bed and kissed the wee face : in all this hap- 
 piness she had not yet been able to speak. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Pryor watched her with satisfied 
 faces; her welcome to the newcomer could not 
 be doubted. 
 
2IO ALICE AND TOM 
 
 " And may I really name her ? " she said. 
 
 "Yes, dear," answered Mrs. Pryor, "it shall be 
 whatever you wish." 
 
 " I 'm named Alice Mary, for you, mother, and 
 I should like to have my sister ' Theodora Arnold,' 
 for dear Miss Merriam and father." 
 
 " We could not ask for a better name," said 
 Mrs. Pryor. " Theodora means ' Gift of God,' and 
 our dear baby is surely that." 
 
 " So is Miss Merriam to all her scholars," said 
 the loyal little girl, with a sweet, grave face. 
 
 Just then Baby Theodora curled her little 
 fingers tightly about Alice's hand, and the joy of 
 the child's heart was too deep for speech. 
 
 Maggie tapped at the door to announce that 
 Master Bennett was below. Alice pleaded that 
 he might come up, and Tom entered, his great 
 eyes full of wonder. 
 
 " Oh, Tom," cried Alice, " see my new sister, — 
 all my own ! She 's Theodora : that means ' Gift 
 of God.' Is n't she a darling ? " 
 
 Tom gazed at the wee stranger, and his lip 
 twitched. 
 
 " I don't see why I can't have a brother as well 
 as other boys," he murmured with a great throb 
 of loneliness. 
 
 " Tom, dear," said Alice, " she shall be your 
 sister, too. We '11 own her together. You shall 
 play with her and teach her, and love her all you 
 please. 
 
A DAY IN FEBRUARY 211 
 
 " Oh, mother, Theodora came on Tom's birth- 
 day. Tom should have her as much as I." So 
 saying, AHce took the other httle hand and laid it 
 in Tom's. Just then something jumped upon the 
 bed and sniffed around suspiciously. 
 
 " Rags, you naughty fellow, I told you to stay 
 downstairs ! " and Tom seized the intruder. 
 
 " Do let him look at Baby just a moment. Oh, 
 mother, he 's kissing her ! " 
 
 Theodora wrinkled up her face and began to 
 cry. Mr. Pryor laughingly hustled the three from 
 the room. " Will it kill her? " whispered Tom, 
 aghast. 
 
 " Oh, no, indeed, only the mother and Baby 
 must go to sleep now." 
 
 " She 's so little," said Tom to Alice, when they 
 found themselves alone. 
 
 " But she '11 grow : we were as small as that 
 once," replied Alice kindly. " I 'm going right 
 over to tell dear Miss Merriam." 
 
 " I 'm going round to tell all my friends," barked 
 Rags. " I '11 show them what a baby we have. 
 If any bad dog tries to hurt her I '11 — " And Rags 
 gave a tremendous growl. 
 
 " This is a beautiful day," cried Alice, dancing 
 along. " Tom, Tom ! see what I 've found ! " On 
 the bush by the way was spring's first visitor, — 
 darling Pussy Willow, in brown coat and gray 
 hood. 
 
 Alice picked it gently. " I 'm going to carry 
 
212 
 
 ALICE AND TOM 
 
 you to Miss Merriam," she said happily. " You 
 and my sister and the spring have all come to- 
 gether." The gray skies parted, and a sunbeam 
 stole down from a rift of perfect blue, and kissed 
 the bright face, with its smiling lips and eager 
 eyes. 
 
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