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Title: The Nursery, April 1877, Vol. XXI. No. 4
A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers
Author: Various
Release Date: February 20, 2009 [EBook #28132]
Language: English
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THE
NURSERY
_A Monthly Magazine_
FOR YOUNGEST READERS.
VOLUME XXI.--No. 4.
BOSTON:
JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET,
1877.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by
JOHN L. SHOREY,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
FRANKLIN PRESS:
RAND, AVERY, AND COMPANY,
117 FRANKLIN STREET,
BOSTON.
[Illustration: Contents]
IN PROSE.
"Why did Elfrida go to Sleep?" 97
The Prairie-Dog 100
Strut 101
Third Lesson in Astronomy 103
The Robbery 104
The Little Recruit 107
One good turn deserves another 109
A Letter from Texas 110
Drawing-Lesson 113
A Story of a Seal 114
Fun in Winter 117
Old Whitey 118
Why do they all Love Freddy? 122
My Rabbits 125
The Council of Buzzards 127
IN VERSE.
The Caterpillars 102
Puss and her Three Kittens 106
Fred and Ned 120
How the Morning comes 124
A Mother Goose Melody (_with music_) 128
[Illustration]
[Illustration: "WHY DID ELFRIDA GO TO SLEEP?"
VOL. XXI.--NO. 4.]
"WHY DID ELFRIDA GO TO SLEEP?"
[Illustration: T]HAT was the question, "Why did Elfrida go to sleep?"
She had been sent to the grocer's in the village; and the grocer's was
only half a mile off from Brook Cottage, where she lived with her aunt
and five cousins. She had been sent to buy a pound of sugar, half a
pound of coffee, and five small rolls of bread.
Usually she would go to the shop and return in less than half an hour.
Now a whole hour went by, and no Elfrida was to be seen. What could be
the matter? Had she run a thorn into her foot, and been lamed? Had she
stopped to talk with the children on their way home from school? Had she
been run over by a fast horse?
"Let us go and find her," cried James, the eldest of the three boys.
"Let us all go!" echoed Susan, his youngest sister. "Shall Sport go with
us?" asked Emma. "By all means!" said James. "Here, Sport, Sport! Where
are you, old fellow?" A big black-and-white Newfoundlander soon rushed
frisking in, wagging his tail, and seeming ready to eat up every one of
the children, just to show them how fond he was of them all.
Then the children all set out for Mr. Spicer's shop. There they learned
that no Elfrida had been seen in the shop that afternoon. "Where can she
be?" cried James, a little anxious. "Sport, where is Elfrida?"
Sport stopped his nonsense of playing with a stick, and began to look
serious. Then he made a bee-line for the nearest turning on the right,
on the way home. This was an old lane, on which some old gardens backed,
and which led, by a little longer way, to Brook Cottage.
By the time the children had arrived at the head of the lane, Sport was
seen galloping back in a state of great excitement. "Bow-wow!"--"Oh, you
have found her, have you, old fellow?"--"Bow-wow!"--"Well and good! You
are a jolly old Sport!"
On the step of the gate of an old garden sat Elfrida, fast asleep, with
her empty basket in her lap. Emma proposed to tickle her nose with a
straw. "No! I will pull that thick braid of hair," said Susan. "No! let
me whisper in her ear," said James. But, before anybody did any thing,
Sport settled the question by putting his paws up on her shoulders, and
crying, "Bow-wow!"
Elfrida started, and looked around as if in a dream. "What does it mean?
How long have I been here?" cried she. "Why did you go to sleep?" asked
the two girls. "Yes, why, why, did you go to sleep?" echoed all the
boys. "Oh, that's my secret," said Elfrida. "Now who can catch me in my
run to Mr. Spicer's?" So off she started, followed by Sport and all the
children.
"Now tell us why did you go to sleep?" said the children, as they were
all on their way home, after she had made her purchases. "Will you
promise not to tell anybody, if I tell you?" asked Elfrida. "We promise,
we promise!" cried all the children. "Now, then, why did you go to
sleep?"--"Hush! I went to sleep because--because--because I was sleepy,"
said Elfrida.
ARTHUR SELWYN.
[Illustration]
THE PRAIRIE-DOG
MY friend John lives in Colorado, not far from Denver; and he writes me,
that he and his sister, not long ago, walked out to see some
prairie-dogs.
The prairie-dog is about the size of a full-grown squirrel, and of a
like color. It makes a hole for itself in the ground. This hole is in
the shape of a tunnel, and as large round as a man's hat.
[Illustration]
Now, this little dog is so gentle, that he lets the owl and the
rattlesnake come and live with him, if they like. All three are often
found dwelling together. For my part, I should not much like such
neighbors.
The prairie-dogs live on the roots of grass. Scattered all around the
entrance to their homes, you may see remnants of the dry roots which
they have got for food. They are quick in their movements, and quite
playful.
Johnny writes me, that, when some of these little dogs saw him and his
sister approaching, they sat down on their hind-legs, and began barking.
Then they dropped into their holes backwards. As Johnny did not care to
wake up any of the other lodgers, he and his sister went home, well
content with their first sight of a prairie-dog.
AUNT ALICE.
[Illustration]
STRUT
STRUT was the name of a hen that lived on Father Nunn's farm, nine miles
from Norwalk, Ohio.
She was very vain; that is, she had a very good opinion of herself. She
always would strut when walking. Indeed, it was hard for her to pick up
grains of corn as other chickens did. I think she never saw her feet in
her life: certainly she never looked where she stepped.
Worse than all this, when she saw any person in the yard, instead of
dodging away, as a modest hen should, she would strut right up to such a
person, and look saucily in his face, as though asking, "Who are you?
Where are you going? What for?"
At last, however, Strut received a severe rebuke for her evil ways.
Cousin William Bird, who is soon to be a doctor, was visiting at Father
Nunn's. Having occasion to climb the ladder to the barn-loft, he saw
Strut on the farther side. He knew that she would come straight to him;
and he also knew that she would not look where she stepped. So he held
still to see what would happen; for exactly between them was an opening
in the floor for throwing down hay.
Sure enough, Strut started for Cousin William, and, stepping off the
edge of the hole, fell fluttering, cackling, and frightened, to the
floor beneath.
She was humbled by her fall; for she never strutted again, but walked
and ate afterwards like other chickens.
UNCLE JOE.
THE CATERPILLARS
EIGHT great cabbages growing in the ground;
Crowds of little caterpillars crawling all around;
Caterpillars squirmed about, and wriggled in the sun;
Said, "These cabbages look sweet: suppose we taste of one!"
Down flew a hungry bird, coming from the wood,
Saw the caterpillars there, and said, "Won't those taste good!"
Up crept pussy-cat, hunting round for mice,
Saw the bird, and smacked her lips, and said, "Won't he taste nice!"
Dog saw pussy creeping there, and he began to run,
Said, "Now I will frighten puss, and then there will be fun!"
So doggy barked; and pussy hid; and birdie flew away;
And caterpillars lived to eat a cabbage up that day.
FLETA F.
[Illustration]
THIRD LESSON IN ASTRONOMY
I HAVE told you about the sun and the stars. Can you think of any thing
else in the sky that you would like to know a little about? Of course, I
do not mean the dark clouds, but something bright and pretty, that all
children love to look at.
I think you must have guessed that I mean the moon,--the beautiful moon.
Now, I want you to make another guess: Is the moon bright because it is
made of fire, like the sun; or because the sun shines on it, as it does
on Venus and Jupiter?
If any of you think it is made of fire, you must try to warm your little
toes and fingers in the moonlight, as you do in the sunshine, and you
will find out for yourselves that it is not a great fire, like the sun,
and that you cannot get warm in the light of it.
And now you will guess at once, that, if it is not fire itself, it must
shine from the sun's fire; and that is right. The moon itself is cold
and dark. It is the light of the sun that makes it look bright to us. We
might call it the sun's looking-glass, in which we see his image or
reflection.
But we cannot at all times see the whole of it. When we do, we call it a
full moon, and, when we see only the edge of it, we say it is a new
moon. The moon itself does not change its shape. It is always round,
like an orange--a dark round ball, which we should never see at all, if
the sun did not light it up for us; and it is only a part of the time we
can see the side which is lighted up.
Which do you suppose is the larger,--the moon, or the stars? Now I know
you will say the moon, because it looks so much larger; but you must
remember that the stars are so far away, we can hardly see them at all,
and the moon is our own moon, and much nearer to us than our own sun.
We can see more of it than we can see of the stars; but it is a very
small thing indeed, compared with one of them. It would take about fifty
moons to make one such earth as we live on, and it would take more
earths than you can count to make one star or sun.
M. E. R.
THE ROBBERY.
I MUST tell you of something that happened one day last summer, when I
was at the Zoölogical Garden in Philadelphia.
Among the persons standing around the cage where the monkeys were kept,
was an old lady who had on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles. All at
once, a big brown monkey stretched out his paw between the bars,
snatched the spectacles, and scampered away, chattering and grinning
with delight.
Of course, the poor lady was in distress. The keeper came to the rescue,
and, by driving the monkey about the cage with a long pole, forced him
at last to drop the spectacles. But one of the glasses had come out of
it; and this the thief still held in his mouth, and refused to give up.
[Illustration]
The keeper followed him sharply with the pole. Away he went, swinging
from one rope to another, screaming and scolding all the time, until the
keeper was so tired, that I feared he would have to let the monkey keep
the glass. But this the keeper said would never do; for he knew, that,
if he let the monkey carry the day, he never could control him again.
So the keeper still plied his pole. The monkey dodged it as well as he
could, until the blows came so thick and fast, that he could bear them
no longer, when he opened his mouth, and let the glass drop.
Now comes the funniest part of the story. The glass fell quite near the
bars, just where the old lady was standing; and a gentleman took her
parasol, which had a hooked handle, to draw it within reach. But he put
the parasol in a little too far, and it slipped out of his hand.
Instantly a large yellow monkey wrapped his long tail around it, and
started off. Imagine the feelings of the poor old lady--first robbed of
her spectacles, and then of her parasol!
But her property was all recovered at last; the robbers were both
punished; and she went on her way in peace.
MRS. E. S. R.
PUSS AND HER THREE KITTENS.
OUR old cat has kittens three;
What do you think their names should be?
One is a tabby with emerald eyes,
And a tail that's long and slender;
But into a temper she quickly flies,
If you ever by chance offend her.
I think we shall call her this--
I think we shall call her that;
Now, don't you fancy "Pepper-pot"
A nice name for a cat?
One is black, with a frill of white,
And her feet are all white fur, too;
If you stroke her, she carries her tail upright,
And quickly begins to purr, too.
I think we shall call her this--
I think we shall call her that;
Now, don't you fancy "Sootikin"
A nice name for a cat?
One is a tortoise-shell, yellow and black,
With a lot of white about him:
If you tease him, at once he sets up his back:
He's a quarrelsome Tom, ne'er doubt him!
I think we shall call him this--
I think we shall call him that;
Now, don't you fancy "Scratchaway"
A nice name for a cat?
Our old cat has kittens three,
And I fancy these their names will be:
"Pepper-pot," "Sootikin," "Scratchaway,"--there!
Were there ever kittens with these to compare?
And we call the old mother--now, what do you think?
"Tabitha Longclaws Tiddleywink."
THOMAS HOOD.
THE LITTLE RECRUIT.
THERE had been an insurrection in Dolldom. _Insurrection_ is a big word:
what does it mean, I wonder? I will tell you: it means an uprising, a
rebellion. If a number of persons should refuse to obey the law, and
rise up in arms to resist it, they would be guilty of an insurrection.
[Illustration]
Now, it happened (according to Tommy's story) that all the dolls in the
house, headed by a naughty male doll of African descent, and known as
"Dandy Jim," rose in insurrection against their lawful queen, Lucy the
First, whose brother, Duke Tommy, was commander-in-chief of her
Majesty's forces.
The rebels were well fortified in one corner of the play-room. They had
mounted several cannon on alphabet-blocks; and a whole company of tin
soldiers defended the outworks. Besides this, a china dog and a wooden
elephant had been enlisted as allies, and stood bravely in front.
General Tommy felt a weight of responsibility upon his shoulders, and,
like a prudent soldier, he resolved not to go into battle until his army
was large enough to make victory certain. So he enlisted Queen Lucy the
First as a recruit.
Queen Lucy looked very grand in her paper cocked hat, with a feather at
the top. She carried a gun; and General Tommy taught her how to fire it
off. When all were ready for the onset, he blew a trumpet.
The army marched in excellent order along the entry, into the play-room;
and not a soldier drew back as they came within sight of the enemy.
"Halt!" cried General Tommy. The army halted. The traitor, "Dandy Jim,"
stood pointing his sword, and the dolls all kept still.
One long blast of the trumpet, and then the brave General Tommy cried
out, "Now, soldiers, on, on to victory!"
On they went. The tin soldiers were soon swept down. The dog and the
elephant were handsomely beaten; and, rushing into the fort, General
Tommy seized the traitor, "Dandy Jim," by the throat, and said, "Now,
sir, your doom is a dungeon!"
The dolls all fell on their knees, and thus was the great insurrection
in Dolldom put down without bloodshed, and the authority of Queen Lucy
the First fully restored. Of course, there was great rejoicing; and,
when the reporter left, General Tommy was preparing for a grand
illumination.
EMILY CARTER.
[Illustration]
ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER.
ON a fine summer day, a dove, that was perched upon the branch of a
tree, saw a bee fall into a stream that was flowing past. The poor bee
tried to get out of the water, but could not.
The dove, seeing that the bee was struggling for her life, dropped a
leaf close beside her, so that she might climb on to it, and save
herself. This the bee at once did, and very glad she was to find herself
safe once more.
Not long after this, a sportsman, who was roaming through the woods for
game, saw the dove flying about, and lifted his gun to shoot her. But,
just as he was taking aim, something happened, that checked him in the
act.
The bee, whose life had been saved by the dove, was going about from
flower to flower in search of honey, when she saw the sportsman taking
aim at the good dove that had befriended her in her time of need. "That
dove once saved my life, and now I will save hers," thought the bee to
herself.
With that she flew at the sportsman, and stung him on the lip. The poor
fellow dropped his gun with a loud cry of pain, which so startled the
dove, that she flew away; and the man did not have another chance to
shoot her. "Surely one good turn deserves another," thought the bee, as
she turned merrily to her work.
LEONORA.
A LETTER FROM TEXAS.
_Dear Children_,--I am writing this letter at my office-desk in San
Antonio, Texas, a long way off from some of you who will read it. I am
the big brother of a lot of little ones, and they call me "Doc."
We take "The Nursery," and the little folks think it is splendid. As
soon as it comes, mamma reads the stories, and shows them the pictures.
They crowd around her to listen: some of them sit down on chairs like
little ladies; some sit on the floor like beggars; and some--I am sorry
to say--lie flat down on the carpet, like--certainly not like ladies and
gentlemen.
What do you think, children, of boys and girls who lie on the floor, and
kick up their heels in the air? _You_ would not do so, would you?
[Illustration]
Now listen! I want to tell you something about our cat. When we first
got her, she was a tiny kitten, and we fed her on milk in a saucer. You
ought to have seen her lap it up with her little tongue! Don't you think
it is a pretty sight to see a kitten drinking milk? I do. But our cat
isn't a kitten any longer, but a great, big, grown cat.
Well, the other night she got locked up in the schoolroom. You know Miss
Anna and Miss Emma teach a big school in our house, and Willie,
Pressley, Eddie, May, and Emily go to it. Sadie, "Little Lalla," and
baby are too young for school yet. These are my little brothers' and
sisters' names. There are eight of them mentioned here. See if you can
count them.
As soon as Emily found out that Kitty was locked up, she ran to Miss
Eliza and mamma, and asked them to let her out; but they said, "No," for
they knew that, if she got out of the schoolroom, she would surely run
into the dining-room, and drink up the baby's milk. So she had to stay
there all night.
Early next morning, Miss Eliza went into the schoolroom to let Kitty
out; and what do you think she saw? There was Kitty, fast asleep in
Willie's little wagon, and four little kittens lying by her side, fast
asleep too.
When Miss Eliza went back to the nursery, and told the children what she
had seen, Eddie, May, Emily, Sadie, and even "Little Lalla" set up a big
shout, and, bursting out of the nursery, ran shouting and laughing to
the little wagon in the schoolroom, where, sure enough, there they were,
four little ones. Three were gray and white, and one gray and black.
Kitty looked so pleased and so happy! You ought to have seen her. Wasn't
that a nice surprise?
May chose the one that looked most like Kitty: Emily and Sadie each
chose one of the gray-and-white ones, and Eddie took the gray-and-black
fellow.
To-day is Emily's birthday. She is seven years old, and may have a
little party. If she _does_, how I would like to have you all here to
play with her! However, at some future time I may write, and tell you
all about it.
But it is time for me to run home, and get some dinner: so good-by.
"DOC."
[Illustration]
[Illustration: DRAWING-LESSON BY HARRISON WEIR.
VOL. XXI.--NO. 4.]
A STORY OF A SEAL.
"THE seal is an amphibious quadruped."
"Oh, come now, Aunt Emily, do not puzzle us with your hard names," cries
Johnny.
"But, Johnny, a lad seven years old ought to know that _amphibious_
means 'capable of living on land or water;' and that _quadruped_ means
'having four feet.'"
"Oh, now I understand," said Johnny. "But does the seal have feet?"
"It has a sort of feet; but they are so wrapped up in the skin, that
they are not of much use on land, except to help it to creep, after a
fashion. So the seal passes most of its time in the sea, coming on shore
only to bask and sleep in the sun, or to suckle its young ones. It is
covered with a close thick fur and is a very good swimmer."
"But let us have the story," said Jane.
"The story is this: once a fisherman, after harpooning an old seal,
found one of its young ones on the sand, and took it home. Here it
became the playmate of the children, whom it seemed to love very much.
They named it Blue-eyes. It would play with them from morning till
night, would lick their hands, and call them with a gentle little cry,
not unlike the human voice in its tone.
"It would look at them tenderly with its large blue eyes, shaded by long
black lashes. It was very fond of music. It would follow its master to
fish, swimming around the boat, and taking a great many fish, which it
would give up without even biting them. No dog could have been more
faithful, or more quick to learn what was wanted.
"But the fisherman's half-sister was a silly old woman. She had come to
help nurse his wife, who was ill. This half-sister took it into her head
that the poor seal would bring bad luck to the family. She told her
brother that he must get rid of it.
[Illustration]
"Weary of her teasing, he at last took the poor seal, rowed with it out
into the open sea, and there, more than seven miles from the shore,
threw it into the water, and then hurried home as fast as sails would
carry him.
"But, when he entered his cottage, the first thing he saw was the
faithful seal lying close beside the cradle of one of his children. As
soon as it saw its master, it showed great joy, and tried to caress
him. But he took the seal and gave it away to a sailor, who was going on
a long voyage. Two weeks afterward, as the fisherman came back from his
boat, he saw the seal at play with the children.
"'If you do not kill that seal, I will kill it myself,' said the old
aunt. The children began to cry. 'No, no, you shall not kill it!' cried
Hans with flashing eyes. 'You shall kill me first,' cried little Jane.
'You have no right to kill it,' cried Mary, the eldest girl.
"'Am I to be ruled by these children?' said the silly aunt, turning to
her brother.
"'The seal shall live,' said he: 'the children shall have their way.
Your notion that the poor seal brings bad luck is a very silly notion.
You ought to be ashamed of it.'
"'Hurrah!' cried Hans. 'Blue-eyes, the vote is taken: you are to live,
and all this nonsense about your bringing bad luck is blown away.'
"The seal began to flop about as if in great joy.
"'I shall leave the house at once,' said the silly aunt.
"'Do as you please,' said the fisherman.
"And so it turned out, that the only ill luck brought to the family by
the seal was the departure of the cross and silly old aunt. And, if the
truth were known, this was found to be a very good thing for all. The
fisherman prospered, the mother of the children got well at once; and
all were happier than ever before, including Blue-eyes, who now was the
jolliest seal that ever played with children."
EMILY CARTER.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FUN IN WINTER.
THE ground was white with snow. The sky looked black as though another
storm were coming. The day was very cold; but the tough boys and girls
did not mind the cold weather. They were out to have some fun.
Their rubber boots, and thick coats and mittens, kept them dry and warm.
One of the boys, though, had come out bare-headed. He was the boy who
never _could_ find his cap when he wanted it. His name was Tom.
"Now look here, Tom," said his brother Sam, a sturdy little chap, who
was always trying to keep Tom in order; "this won't do. You go into the
house and get your cap. Go quick, or you'll get this snowball right in
your face."
"Fire away!" said Tom, dancing around, and putting up his arm to keep
off the snowball.
"I'm going to have a hand in this game," said Joe, aiming a snowball at
Sam. "Look out for yourself, old fellow."
"Clear the track!" cried Bill and Ned, rolling a huge snowball down the
hill.
Mrs. O'Sullivan, who was just going up the back-steps to ask for cold
victuals, looked around to see what was going on; while Charles had his
own fun in dragging his little sister up the hill on her sled.
All this time, a little boy named Jim, who had been having a private
coast in the field near the house, was peeping over the fence, and
wishing he were old enough to play with the other boys. He didn't
venture to join them, for he was bashful, and rather timid: but he saw
all that took place, and he will remember all about it when he sees this
picture.
UNCLE SAM.
OLD WHITEY.
I AM a great boy six years old, and I take "The Nursery." Some of the
stories I spell out myself; but the most of them mamma reads aloud to my
little brother Albert and me.
Last summer, we all went to visit an uncle who lives on a large farm. We
had just the best kind of a time. There was a big dog, named Rover, that
would play with us for hours. He would run after and bring back a ball
or stick, or any thing that we would throw for him. He would "speak,"
"roll over," "sit up and read," and do lots of funny tricks.
Then there was a white horse twenty-five years old, and just as sleek
and fat as a colt. Old Whitey has lived on the farm ever since he was a
little colt. Old as he is, he is still able to do a great deal of work.
[Illustration]
One day Uncle Wash was ploughing, and he put me on the back of Old
Whitey. Well, I liked that very much, and began to cluck, and jerk the
reins, to make him go along; when in an instant, without any warning, he
pricked up his ears, kicked up his heels, and ran away, leaving the
plough behind.
I can't tell you how scared I was. I held on as long as I could; but it
was of no use. The old horse ran through swamps and bogs, and dropped
me, head first, in the mud and dirt. I was hurt on my head and side, but
I would not cry because I was too big for that. When the men got to me,
I was hunting for my hat.
After getting rid of his load, the runaway coolly walked up to the barn,
and stood looking as mild as a lamb. I didn't have any faith in Old
Whitey after that, though his master said he never knew him to do such a
thing before.
NELSON.
WOODSTOCK, VT.
FRED AND NED.
[Illustration]
"OH, this is weather for play, for play!
And I will not go to school to-day,"
Said Master Frederic Philip Fay.
So he hung his satchel upon a tree:
And over the hills to the pond went he,
To frolic, and see what he could see.
He met a boy on the way to school,
And said, "Ned Foster, you're a fool
To study and plod because it's the rule."
Quoth Ned, "You'll find that _he's_ the fool
Who, for his pleasure, shirks his school:
Sun, moon, and stars, all go by rule."
Then Ned passed cheerily on his way,
And not another word did say
To Master Frederic Philip Fay.
Fred sat him down on a rock near by,
And cast a look on the bright blue sky,
And then at the sun, that was mounting high.
"Yes, truly, the sun has no time for play:
He has to go in a certain way,"
Said Master Frederic Philip Fay.
"Oh! what would become of us all, suppose
The sun, some morn, should say, as he rose,
'A truant I'll be to-day--here goes!'
"Then off should whirl in a mad career,
And leave it all night and winter here,--
No blue in the sky, no flower to cheer?
"Yes, there is a duty for every one,
For Master Fay, as well as the sun:
A law must be minded, a task must be done."
Up started Frederic Philip Fay:
He took from the tree his satchel away,
And ran off to school without delay.
IDA FAY.
[Illustration]
WHY DO THEY ALL LOVE FREDDY?
"BUT do they all love Freddy, mamma?"
"I think there is no doubt of it, Freddy. The cat loves you; for she
will let you pull her about, and never try to scratch you."
"Yes; and I think old Towser loves me. He lets me get on his back: he
never bites me."
"I would like to catch him at it--biting my little Freddy! He knows too
much for that; and, besides, he loves you."
"But does the old cow love me, mamma?"
"Why, didn't she let you play with her calf, and never try to hook you?
The old cow loves Freddy, and will give him all the fresh milk he
wants."
"The hens love me because I feed them."
"Yes, the hens love you; and, more than that, the little sparrows love
you; for they follow you, and hop about your feet, as if they wanted to
say, 'Good-morning, Freddy! We all love you, Freddy.'"
"But I will tell you one beast that does not love me, mamma. The old sow
does not love me."
"Don't you believe it, little boy! The old sow loves you just as well as
Towser does; just as well as the cow does; just as well as old Scamper,
the horse, loves you."
"I should like to be sure that the sow loves me."
"Come with me, and I will put you on her back; and, if she does not like
it, it will be a sign that she does not love you; but, if she does like
it, it will be a sign that she loves my little Freddy just as much as
the others do."
So mamma took Freddy, and placed him on the back of the old sow. The old
sow gave a look over her ears, saw it was Freddy, and then uttered a
contented grunt, as much as to say, "All right! Freddy, you are a
darling, and I love you."
[Illustration]
"Did I not tell you that the old sow loved you, like the rest?"
"Yes, mamma; but why, why, do they love me? Tell me that."
Mamma snatched Freddy up in her arms, took him into the house, and then
said, "I think they must love you, Freddy, because you love them. Love
wins love, you know. The person who says that no one loves him should
ask himself the question, 'But do I love any one?'"
IDA FAY.
HOW THE MORNING COMES.
CHEERY, cheery,
Out of the dreary
Dark there glows
A tint of yellow, a purple gleam,
A shine of silver, a brazen beam,
A flush of rose;
The darkness, meanwhile, flying, gone:
Thus does the morning dawn.
Creeping, creeping,
Daintily peeping,
Hastes the light
Through the window to see where lies
The little girl with the sleepy eyes;
Glistens bright
With very joy to find the place
Where lies her dreaming face.
Drowsy, drowsy,
A little frowzy
Gold-locked head
Turns on its pillow, yawns, and winks;
Lifts from its pillow, peeps, and blinks;
Turns in bed;
Then with a slow, reluctant shake,
Is almost wide awake.
MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.
[Illustration]
MY RABBITS.
ONE day Cousin John asked me if I would like two nice rabbits. I said I
would like them very much. So he gave them to me, and I had a pen made
for them.
One I called Pink, and the other White. They were very tame, and soon
got to know their names. I took them out and let them run about the yard
every fine day.
Once Pink ran away, and I thought he was lost. I had a long chase after
him through the bushes; but I caught him at last and brought him home.
My brother George kept a lot of chickens in the yard, and while I fed my
pet rabbits, he would feed his chickens.
HATTIE.
[Illustration]
THE COUNCIL OF BUZZARDS.
THE buzzard is a large black bird, nearly as large as a turkey. He never
kills that he may eat, but devours the refuse in the city streets, and
the dead animals on the prairies and swamps of the Southern States. It
is against the law to shoot buzzards; for they are the health officers
of the South.
Here, in beautiful, sunny Louisiana, I seldom look out doors without
seeing one or more buzzards slowly circling around in the air in quest
of food. Before they begin to eat, they arrange themselves in a solemn
row, as if holding a council, and "caw" in a very wise manner. Then one
flies down, and then another, and another; and as they eat, they seem to
comment on their repast. At last nothing is left of it but the bare
bones to bleach in the sun. They will eat an ox in a day.
AUNT ANN.
LA TECHE, LA.
[Illustration]
A MOTHER GOOSE MELODY.
Music by ANNIE MOORE.
[Illustration: Music]
Three little dogs were basking in the cinders,
And three little cats were playing in the windows,
Three little mice popp'd out of a hole,
And a piece of cheese they stole, they stole!
The three little cats jump'd up in a trice,
And crack'd the bones of the three little mice,
The three little mice.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
The January edition of the Nursery had a table of contents for the first
six issues of the year. This table was divided to cover each specific
issue. A title page copied from the January edition was also used for
this number.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nursery, April 1877, Vol. XXI. No.
4, by Various
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