Charles' Journey to France, and Other Tales

By Mrs. Barbauld

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Title: Charles' Journey to France, and Other Tales

Author: Anna Laetitia Barbauld

Release Date: July 11, 2011 [eBook #36707]

Language: English

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UNCLE THOMAS' STORIES FOR GOOD CHILDREN.

[Illustration: UNCLE THOMAS.]

CHARLES' JOURNEY TO FRANCE,
AND OTHER TALES.

[Illustration]

BY MRS. BARBAULD.

Worcester:
Edward Livermore.
1847.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847,
By Edward Livermore,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.

Greenfield:
Merriam and Mirick, Printers.

INTRODUCTION.

Uncle Thomas' Stories for Good Children.

The design of this Series of unpretending little books, is, to give to
the Young, information, joined with amusement.

They are prepared for young children, and if, from the reading of
these stories, they acquire a love for good books, the compiler's
object will be accomplished.

Contents.

CHARLES' JOURNEY TO FRANCE, 9

THE BALL PLAYERS, 32

THE LITTLE BOY WHO WAS A COWARD, 39

MY MOTHER, 44

STORIES OF DOGS, 49

A NAUGHTY BOY, 59

THE SILLY LAMB, 63

LUCY AND HER LAMB, 71

STORY OF A JOURNEY TO FRANCE.

Well, Charles, we will take a journey. We will go to France. We will
see some of the world besides home.

Bring your hat. Good-bye, Papa. Farewell, Billy, and Harry, and every
body. We are going a great way off. And we shall go down the lane, and
through the church-yard and by the corner-house, and over the stile,
till we have got quite into the fields. How pretty the fields will
look! for it will be summer days again before we go. And there will be
yellow flowers, and white flowers, and grass, and trees, and hedges;
and the grasshoppers, will chirp, chirp, under our feet. Do not try to
catch them; it will only hinder us, and we have a great way to go.

Pray what are those pretty creatures that look so meek and
good-natured, and have soft thick white wool upon their backs, like a
greatcoat, and make a noise like the little baby when it cries? Those
are sheep and lambs. And what are those creatures with horns, that
are bigger than the sheep? Some of them are black, and some red: they
make a loud noise, but they do not look as if they would hurt any
body. Those are cows that give milk. Stroke them. Poor cows! stand
still and look back. Now we cannot see papa's house at all; and we can
see only the top of the church steeple. Let us go a little farther.
Now look back. Now we cannot see the church at all. Farewell! We are
going a great way. Shall we ever come back again? Yes, we shall come
back again; but we must go on now. Come, make haste.

What is that tall thing that has four great arms which move very fast?
I believe, if I was near it, they would strike me down. It is a
wind-mill. Those arms are the sails. The wind turns them round. And
what is a wind-mill for? It is to grind corn. You could have no bread
if the corn were not ground. Well, but here is a river; how shall we
do to get over it? Why, do you not see how those ducks do? they swim
over. But I cannot swim. Then you must learn to swim, I believe: it is
too wide to jump over. O, here is a Bridge! Somebody has made a
bridge for us quite over the river. That somebody was very good, for I
do not know what we should have done without it; and he was very clever
too. I wonder how he made it. I am sure I could not make such a bridge.

[Illustration: Well, but here is a river.--_Page 12._]

Well, we must go on, on, on; and we shall see more rivers, and more
fields, and towns bigger than our town a great deal--large towns, and
fine churches, streets, and people--more than there is at the fair.
And we shall have a great many high hills to climb. I believe I must
get somebody to carry the little boy up those high hills. And
sometimes we shall go through dusty sandy roads; and sometimes through
green lanes, where we shall hear the birds sing.

[Illustration]

Sometimes we shall go over wide commons, where we shall see no trees,
nor any house; and large heaths, where there is hardly any
grass--only some purple flowers, and a few black nosed little sheep.
Ha! did you see that pretty brown creature that ran across the path?
Here is another; and look! there is another; there are a great many.
They are rabbits. They live here, and make themselves houses in the
ground. This is a rabbit-warren.

Now we are come amongst a great many trees--more trees than there are
in the orchard by a great many, and taller trees. There is oak, and
ash, and elm. This is a wood. What great boughs the trees have! like
thick arms. The sun cannot shine amongst the trees, they are so
thick. Look, there is a squirrel! Jumping from one tree to another. He
is very nimble. What a pretty tail he has!

Well; when we have gone on a great many days, through a great many
fields and towns, we shall come to a great deep water, bigger a great
many times than the river, for you can see over the river, you
know--you can see fields on the other side; but this is so large, and
so wide, you can see nothing but water, water, as far as ever you can
carry your eyes. And it is not smooth, like the river; it is all
rough, like the great pot in the kitchen when it is boiling; and it is
so deep, it would drown you, if you were as tall as two church
steeples. I wonder what they call this great water? There is an old
fisherman sitting upon a stone drying himself; for he is very wet. I
think we will ask him. Pray, fisherman, what is this great water? It
is the sea: did you never hear of the sea? What! is this great water
the same sea that is on our map at home? Yes, it is. Well, this is
very strange! we are come to the sea that is in our map. But it is
very little in the map. I can lay my finger over it. Yes; it is
little in the map, because every thing is little in the map, the towns
are little, and the houses are little.

Pray, fisherman, is there any thing on the other side of this sea?
Yes; fields, and towns, and people. Will you go and see them? I should
like to go very well; but how must we do to get over? for there is no
bridge here. Do not you see those great wooden boxes that swim upon
the water? They are bigger than all papa's house. There are tall poles
in the middle, as high as a tree. Those are masts. See! now they are
spreading the sails. Those white sheets are the sails. They are like
wings. These wooden boxes are like houses with wings. Yes, and I will
tell you what, little boy! they are made on purpose to go over the
sea; and the wind blows them along faster than a horse can trot. What
do they call them? They call them ships. You have seen a ship in a
picture. Shall we get in? What have those men in the ship got on? They
have jackets and trowsers on, and checked shirts. They are sailors. I
think we will make you a sailor; and then instead of breeches you must
have a pair of trowsers. Do you see that sailor, how he climbs up the
ropes? He runs up like a monkey. Now he is at the top of the mast. How
little he looks! but we must get in. Come, make haste: they will not
stay for us. What are you doing? picking up shells! We must get into a
boat first, because the ship is not near enough. Now we are in.

Now we are upon the great sea. Blow, blow, wind! Sail away, ship!
There are little rooms in the ship. Those little rooms are called
cabins. Let us walk about, and look at the ship. Why, you cannot walk
steady; I am afraid you are tipsy! because the ship rolls about. But
the sailors can walk steady. The sea is not like the river; it is
greenish. Well, here is water enough if we should be thirsty. Yes,
here is water enough; but you would not like to drink it. It is salt
and bitter. You could not drink it. How fast we go! Now the fields are
a great way off. Now we cannot see any green fields at all, nor any
houses, nor any thing but the great deep water. It is water, all round
as far as ever we can see. Yes, and sky; we can see the sky too. All
sky over our heads, and all water every where round us! Do not be
afraid, little boy! blow, blow, wind! sail away, ship! I see some
things in the sea at a great distance. Those are more ships and boats.
How very small they are! they look like nut shells in a great pond. O,
now we are coming to the green fields and towns on the other side of
the sea! I can see them a little. Now I can see them very plain. And
here is a little piece of green land, with the water running all round
it. That is an island. A piece of land with water all round it, is an
island. But we are not going there; we are going to the great land.

Now we are at the land. Get out of the ship. Pray, what country is
this? This is France. France! why France is in the map too.

And pray what is the name of that country we came from, where we live,
and where papa lives? It is England. And the deep sea is between
France and England? Yes, you know it is so in the map.

[Illustration: THE SHIP CHARLES CAME HOME IN.]

O, France is a pretty place! it is warmer than our country: and here
are pretty flowers and fine fruit, and large grapes. I never saw such
large grapes in all my life. And the vines grow in the fields; they do
not grow against walls, as our vines do. And there are a great many
people, men and women, and little boys and girls, singing, and dancing
about, and so merry! nothing can be like it. I think we will live
here, and send for papa and Arthur. Let us go and talk with those
people. Here, you little girl! pray give us some of your nice fruit.
_Serviteur Monsieur._ What do you say, little girl? I do not
understand you. I cannot help that. Here is an old man cutting vines;
we will speak to him. Pray, old man, will you give us some of your
fruit? We are come a great way to see you. _Serviteur Monsieur._ What
do you say? We do not know what _Serviteur Monsieur_ is. It is French.
But we do not understand French. I cannot help that; you must go home
and learn. And why do you speak French? Because this is France. Did
not you know that every body speaks French in France! Ha, ha, ha! He,
he, he! Ho, ho, ho! Here is a foolish little boy come a great way over
the sea, and does not know that every body speaks French in France.
Ha, ha, ha! He, he he! Ho, ho, ho! Here is a foolish little boy come
a great way over the sea, and does not know that every body speaks
French in France. Ha, ha, ha! He, he, he! Ho, ho, ho! Here is a
foolish little boy come a great way over the sea, and does not know
that every body speaks French in France. Ha, ha, ha! He, he, he! Ho,
ho, ho!--What shall we do, little boy? every body laughs at us; and
all the little birds twitter and chirp at us. We will go home again.
Farewell, France! We will not go to France again till papa has taught
us to talk French. Let us go into the ship again. Blow, wind, sail
away ship! Now we are got back again. Pray, papa, teach the little boy
French before he goes a great way abroad again.

[Illustration]

THE BALL PLAYERS.

Up goes the ball with might and main,
And soon it cometh down again;
Ups and down, I've heard them say
For many a year, is the world's way!

Up goes the ball,--like a goblet-cup;
Hold your hand as you send it up!
Down it comes,--ere it reach the ground,
Catch the ball so firm and round.

An up and down, that is the way,
With a good round ball, that you must play;
Up, high as you can, then down again,
Five and five, and a double ten.

[Illustration]

The world is a ball, and every star,
And the sun himself, great balls they are;
Round they go, and round about,
Ever and ever, yet ne'er are out!

Up goes the ball! Oh, if I threw
Up to the very sky so blue,
Up to the moon, or to Charles Wain,
'Twould be long ere the ball came down again!

An up and down--that is the way,
With a good round ball, that you must play;
Up, high as you can, and down again,
Ten and ten, and six times ten!

Face to the shade, and back to the shine;
Send up your balls with a toss like mine,
Straight as a dart, as if 't were cast
From the spring of a mighty arbalast.

[Illustration]

There it goes! good luck to the ball!
Here it comes, with a plumping fall;
How merry it is, our balls to throw,
Standing together thus in a row!

An up and a down, that is the way,
With a good round ball, that you must play;
Up, high as you can, and down again,
Now, we have counted ten times ten.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: He was afraid of dogs, too.--_Page 40._]

THE LITTLE BOY WHO WAS A COWARD.

There was once a little boy, who was a sad coward. He was afraid of
every thing almost. He was afraid of the two kids, Nanny and Billy,
when they came and put their noses through the pales of the court; and
he would not pluck Billy by the beard. What a silly boy he was! Pray
what was his name? Nay, indeed, I shall not tell you his name; for I
am ashamed of him. Well, he was much afraid of dogs, too: he always
cried if a dog barked, and ran away, and took hold of his mamma's
apron like a baby. What a foolish fellow he was! for the dogs do not
hurt, you know; they love little boys and play with them. Did you ever
see a dog eat up a little boy? No, never, I dare say. Well; so this
simple little boy was walking by himself one day, and a pretty black
dog came out of a house, and said, bow, wow, bow, wow; and came to the
little boy, and jumped upon him, and wanted to play with him; but the
little boy ran away. The dog ran after him, and cried louder, bow,
bow, wow; but he only meant to say, Good-morrow, how do you do? but
this little boy was sadly frightened, and ran away as fast as ever he
could, without looking before him, and he tumbled into a very dirty
ditch, and there he lay crying at the bottom of the ditch, for he
could not get out: and I believe he would have laid there all day, but
the dog was so good-natured that he went to the house where the little
boy lived, on purpose to tell them where he was. So, when he came to
the house, he scratched at the door, and said, Bow, wow; for he could
not speak any plainer. So they opened the door.

What do you want, you black dog? We do not know you. Then the dog went
to Ralph the servant, and pulled him by the coat, and pulled him till
he brought him to the ditch; and the dog and Ralph together got the
little boy out of the ditch; but he was all over mud, and quite wet,
and every body laughed at him because he was a coward.

Now, Charles, my pen is tired, I cannot write any more at present; but
if you are a good boy, perhaps I may write you some more stories
another time. Farewell.

[Illustration]

MY MOTHER.

My own mamma!
My dear mamma!
How happy I shall be,
To-morrow night
At candle light,
When she comes home to me.

'Tis just a week,
Since on my cheek,
She pressed a parting kiss,
It seems like two,
I never knew,
So long a week as this.

My tangled hair
She smoothed with care,
With water bathed my brow,
And all with such
A gentle touch--
There's none to do so now.

I cannot play
When she's away,
There's none to laugh with me,
And much I miss
The tender kiss--
The seat upon her knee.

When up to bed
I'm sorrowing led,
I linger on the stairs;
I lie and weep;
I cannot sleep;
I scarce can say my prayers.

But she will come,
She'll be at home
To-morrow night, and then
I hope that she
Will never be
So long away again.

[Illustration]

STORIES OF DOGS.

Dogs are very useful creatures, and they are much attached to man.
Some of them will play with little boys, will run after a ball and
bring it back to their playfellow. Spaniels or water dogs will bring
sticks which are thrown into the water. Some carry baskets. They do
many useful and amusing things for their masters.

There is a large house upon the top of a mountain, in Italy, in which
a great many people live, called monks. The house is called a convent.
These monks have a very fine breed of dogs, called the dogs of St.
Bernard. They are a very large fine looking dog, very strong and very
bold, and yet very kind. Not cross, like some of the little curs, we
see every day. These dogs are trained to go down the mountains, and if
they find any travelers, who have lost their way in the deep snow, or
who are unable to get to the convent, these dogs help them. One of
them in ranging about the mountain a few years ago, met with a poor
little boy, almost dead with cold and hunger, and so benumbed that he
could not walk.

[Illustration]

The dog made signs to him, so as to make him understand, that he wanted
him to get up upon his back, which after much trouble, the poor little
boy did, and the dog carried him to the convent, where he was put into a
warm bed, and taken so good care of, that he was soon quite well.

All dogs, however, are not like the good dogs of St. Bernard. Some are
very vicious. Such dogs are dangerous animals, and certainly should
not be permitted to go unchained.

[Illustration: He rushed into the parlor, where all the family were at
tea. _Page 55._]

There was an instance of great ferocity on the part of a dog exhibited
not long since, in the streets of New York. A horse belonging to a poor
drayman, got free from the halter with which he was fastened, and
started for home. The drayman as soon as he found the horse gone,
went in pursuit and called upon the people in the streets to stop his
horse. A bull-dog also taking the alarm pursued the horse, and soon
coming up with him, seized the poor animal by the upper lip. The horse,
terribly frightened, ran along several streets, the dog all the time
hanging to his lip. At length a crowd collecting prevented his farther
progress; and to escape being caught, and frantic with pain and fear, he
rushed into a hardware shop, and thence into the parlor where all the
family were at tea. After turning over the chairs and table, they were
driven back into the shop, when every exertion was made in vain by the
owner of the horse, and several others to release the animal from the
gripe of the tormentor. At last one of the company with a knife put an
end to the dog's existence, thus releasing the poor horse.

[Illustration]

STORY OF A NAUGHTY BOY.

There was a naughty boy; I do not know what his name was, but it was
not Charles, nor George, nor Arthur, for those are all very pretty
names: but there was a robin came in at his window one very cold
morning--shiver--shiver; and its poor little heart was almost frozen
to death. And he would not give it the least little crumb of bread in
the world, but pulled it about by the tail, and hurt it sadly, and it
died. Now a little while after, the naughty boy's papa and mamma went
away and left him, and then he could get no victuals at all, for you
know he could not take care of himself. So he went about to every
body--Pray give me something to eat, I am very hungry. And every body
said, No, we shall give you none, for we do not love cruel, naughty
boys. So he went about from one place to another, till at last he got
into a thick wood of trees, for he did not know how to find his way
any where; and then it grew dark, quite a dark night. So he sat down
and cried sadly; and he could not get out of the wood; and I believe
the bears came and eat him up in the wood, for I never heard any thing
about him afterwards.

[Illustration]

STORY OF THE SILLY LAMB.

I will tell you a story about a lamb. There was once a shepherd, who
had a great many sheep and lambs. He took a great deal of care of
them, and gave them sweet fresh grass to eat, and clear water to
drink; and if they were sick he was very good to them, and when they
climbed up a steep hill, and the lambs were tired, he used to carry
them in his arms; and when they were all eating their suppers in the
field, he used to sit upon a stile, and play them a tune, and sing to
them; and so they were the happiest sheep and lambs in the whole
world. But every night this shepherd used to pen them up in a fold. Do
you know what a sheepfold is? Well, I will tell you. It is a place
like the court; but instead of pales there are hurdles, which are made
of sticks that will bend, such as osier twigs; and they are twisted
and made very fast, so that nothing can creep in, and nothing can get
out. Well, and so every night, when it grew dark and cold, the
shepherd called all his flock, sheep and lambs, together, and drove
them into the fold, and penned them up, and there they lay, as snug
and warm and as comfortable as could be, and nothing could get into
and hurt them, and the dogs lay round on the outside to guard them,
and to bark if any body came near; and in the morning the shepherd
unpenned the fold, and let them all out again.

Now they were all very happy, as I told you, and loved the shepherd
dearly that was so good to them--all except one foolish little lamb. And
this lamb did not like to be shut up every night in the fold; and she
came to her mother, who was a wise old sheep, and said to her, I wonder
why we are shut up so every night! the dogs are not shut up, and why
should we be shut up? I think it is very hard, and I will get away if I
can, I am resolved, for I like to run about where I please, and I think
it is very pleasant in the woods by moonlight. Then the old sheep said
to her, you are very silly, you little lamb, you had better stay in the
fold. The shepherd is so good to us, that we should always do as he bids
us; and if you wander about by yourself, I dare say you will come to
some harm. I dare say not, said the little lamb: and so when the evening
came, and the shepherd called them all to come into the fold, she would
not come, but crept slily under a hedge and hid herself; and when the
rest of the lambs were all in the fold and fast asleep, she came out and
jumped, and frisked, and danced about; and she got out of the field, and
got into a forest full of trees, and a very fierce wolf came rushing out
of a cave and howled very loud. Then the silly lamb wished she had been
shut up in the fold; but the fold was a great way off,--and the wolf
saw her, and seized her, and carried her away to a dismal dark den, all
covered with bones and blood; and there the wolf had two cubs, and the
wolf said to them, Here, I have brought you a young fat lamb--and so the
cubs took her, and growled over her a little while, and then tore her to
pieces, and ate her up.

[Illustration]

LUCY AND HER LAMB.

Lucy had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow,
And every where that Lucy went,
The lamb was sure to go.

He followed her to school one day;
That was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play,
To see the lamb at school.

And so the teacher turned him out,
But still he lingered near:
And waited patiently about,
Till Lucy did appear.

And then he ran to her, and laid
His head upon her arm,
As if he said, "I'm not afraid;
You'll shield me from all harm."

"What makes the lamb love Lucy so?"
The little children cried;
"Because she loves the lamb, you know,"
The teacher quick replied.

"And you, each gentle animal,
In confidence may bind,
And make them follow at your call,
If you are always kind."

UNCLE THOMAS' STORIES FOR
GOOD CHILDREN.

POETICAL TALES. BY MARY HOWITT.

STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS. BY UNCLE THOMAS.

STORIES OF THE MONTHS. BY MRS. BARBAULD.

CHARLES' JOURNEY TO FRANCE. BY MRS. BARBAULD.

PHEBE, THE BLACKBERRY GIRL.

GRIMALKIN AND LITTLE FIDO.

[Illustration]

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