Part 4

“‘It’s quite true, though,’ said the cat. ‘The mistress knows that. I’ve often heard her say that she couldn’t leave the clean clothes in the basket a moment as I’d lie among them right away. And she never dared leave the linen closet door open. Of course they don’t know how fond I am of such a bed,’ added Snow, ‘or they would enjoy having a bed made for me of clean clothes all the time.’

“‘Bow-wow-wow,’ laughed the dog. ‘You are a creature to love everything that is fine. How about soiled clothes? Wouldn’t they feel the same?’

“‘You insult me,’ said the cat. ‘I only lie in clean clothes. Soft cushions, good food, especially cream and still more especially nice food from the table—all these things I like.’

“‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said the dog. ‘I knew you loved all comforts but this one of clean clothes I never heard of before.’

“‘That’s why I am never talking to you when I see the clothes basket of clean clothes going upstairs,’ said Snow. ‘I am busy then!’

“And this,” said daddy, “is a true story.”

FEBRUARY 1: Mice are Discovered

“The Mice,” said daddy, “had been enjoying a new pantry they had found. They always found some pantry where they could get good things to eat, and this pantry was full of delicious cheese and all sorts of nice things.

“‘Really,’ said Mr. Mouse, ‘I don’t think we could have found a better pantry. It’s one of the nicest homes we’ve had in a long time.’

“‘Yes,’ said Mrs. Mouse. ‘And there are no traps, and there is not a single Cat in the House. That is what I call right. It’s very wrong to keep a Cat. They’re such horrid creatures.’

“They would frisk about the pantry, behind the shelves and through the drawers which were often left half-open.

“‘It is so stupid and inconsiderate,’ said Mr. Mouse, ‘for people to close all the drawers and lock up their things in tin boxes. For my part I hate tin boxes. They can’t be bitten and they’re so apt to cut me when I try to get them opened.’

“‘Yes, they’re horrid,’ said Mrs. Mouse. ‘We can’t open them, no matter how much we try. I like little cardboard boxes best that we can nibble through.’

“Now one day the children who lived in the house had been out coasting all the afternoon. It had been a glorious afternoon, and they had coasted so hard they were very hungry.

“When they came in they asked their mother for something to eat.

“‘Go and look in the pantry,’ said their mother. ‘You will find biscuits and jam, and quite a lot to eat in there. As it’s a Saturday afternoon you may have a little feast.’

“Off went the children to the pantry. Now, the Mice had not been bothered all afternoon. They had seen the cook leave the kitchen and the pantry was just off the kitchen.

“‘We’ll have a feast this afternoon,’ said Mother Mouse. And all the little Mice had thought it was a wonderful scheme to have a regular feast.

“They had been enjoying themselves and having a splendid time when the children arrived.

“When they heard the door open and the children coming in, the Mice scampered to their holes and to their hiding places back on the shelves. They made a great deal of noise, and some of them squealed in their hurry to get past each other.

“‘The pantry is full of Mice,’ said the children.

“Meanwhile the Mice were saying, ‘They heard us, and now they know that we are living here. Well, we’ll just have to move—that’s all. For somehow people don’t like to have Mice for visitors. It’s very foolish of them, but they don’t like us!’

“‘Well,’ said Mr. Mouse, ‘we might as well make the best of it. Besides this has been a very nice home and perhaps we’ll be lucky and find another.’

“‘I hope it will be just as nice,’ said Mrs. Mouse, as they all followed Mr. Mouse in his search for a new pantry!”

FEBRUARY 2: In the Sea

“In the sea,” said daddy, “and far away in the tropics where the plants and birds and animals are very different from here, there are floating plant creatures known as Portuguese Men-of-War.

“The reason they’ve been given this name is because some one who was about to name them decided they looked like old battleships. The Portuguese Man-of-War is made up of many little creatures all joined together, just as though many of us were all fastened together in our villages or in our country places.

“Some of these creatures are very different from each other. The Portuguese Man-of-War is quite large, and when it is like this it is filled by a kind of gas which enters into it and which makes it look even larger than it is.

“It is beautifully colored and it floats on top of the water.

“These parts are the large members of the colony. The rest of them, or rather a second kind of members of the family, hang from under the side of these—many little creatures which form the largest part of the colony.

“Many of them are small and trumpet-shaped, and they are the ones who do the marketing and get the food for the rest.

“Then there are members of the colony who also hang from under the many members on top, and they are the fingers or the feelers for the community.

“There are still others who look like bunches of grapes, and they look after the baby creatures who come to form a part of this strange animal-plant.

“Still more of them are like great long ribbons and they are armed with cells which sting and slay young fishes down in the water. Then they bring up the food to the other members of the family.

“So, you see, this whole big community of many-colored little creatures, which are a kind of animal-plant life, all help each other. And they are all of many beautiful colors, and add as much to the beauty of the sea as anything else.

“But I want to make it quite clear that they are all together as a plant would be, and yet each has its purpose in life, whether it be to market or get the fish or look after the eggs.

“Lately I have seen in a great museum in one of the large cities a copy of one of these colonies made out of blown glass.

“There you can see the colors, for without the colors you can’t half imagine how lovely it is. The little creatures are lovely lavenders, and green, and purples, and browns, and pinks—all like a lovely mass of soft and delicate colors.

“So that the Portuguese Man-of-War and its little inhabitants are becoming better known.”

FEBRUARY 3: The Circus Dream

“I want to tell you the story this evening,” said daddy, “of a little boy named Jay Rial.

“Jay Rial was as nice a little boy as any one could ever hope to see. Every one liked him and he liked people, too. But the thing he loved above everything else in the world was the circus.

“He loved the sound of the train whistle which brought the circus to town, and he loved the old circus which used to travel by the road and not come by the train at all. He loved the circus band, the clowns, the animals. He loved the very tent itself, the smell of peanuts, the roars of the lions, the beautiful ladies who rode the beautiful horses.

“He loved the performers, and every time he went to a circus he wished his eyes were bigger so he could see more, and he wished that circus people didn’t have to go to sleep at all.

“He used to follow the circus parade as it came through the town and he didn’t mind if it was always late, for he could go to the circus grounds with some of the other boys and see them unpack, and maybe he could sometimes help a little, too!

“Once he had been allowed to stand in the middle of the sawdust-covered ring when they were fixing up the tent. That had been a great moment.

“There was only one thing about circus day which ever made him sad. That was that sometimes people couldn’t afford to go to the circus. He had been very lucky. He was always able to do chores for his mother and daddy around circus time and he could make enough money for a ticket.

“But there were some little boys and girls who couldn’t do that, or whose mothers and daddies couldn’t afford to do that for them.

“‘If I ever get to be a big man,’ said little Jay Rial, ‘I’m going to take just as many children to the circus with me as I can.’

“Little Jay Rial called it his circus-dream. And sometimes he would really dream that he was taking hundreds and hundreds of little boys and girls whose faces had been sad and teary because they hadn’t thought they were going to the circus. He had dreamed of how they would follow after him and would say:

“‘Me, too?’

“And he would smile at them and say, ‘Yes, all of you!’

“It was a beautiful dream.

“Now there are many people who dream of doing something fine when they have more money or when they’re grown up and who forget it when that time comes.

“They will excuse themselves by saying, ‘Yes, I have more money than I used to have, but I find I need it all,’ instead of doing more than they had been able to do before. There are little boys who say, ‘When I grow up I’m going to see that poor children get ice-cream once in a while.’ But when they grow up they forget and they don’t realize that there are lots of children in hospitals and in homes who very seldom receive visits from the ice-cream man.

“Now Jay Rial was different. He remembered. When he grew up he went into the circus business. He was the one who would tell the newspapers in the different towns in advance when the circus was coming to town so every one could look forward to it.

“And he remembered his circus dream.

“So every year when the circus came to the very biggest city they visited, grown up Jay Rial arranged that every child in every hospital or home or any child who was crippled and not as fortunate as other children should come to the circus free.

“They arranged one afternoon when no one need buy a ticket but when every seat was free. And yet, that wasn’t enough for Jay Rial. When the hospitals and homes sent in their lists of the numbers of children who would be able to go to the circus the lists grew so long that the place wouldn’t hold them all.

“Do you suppose Jay Rial said, ‘Sorry, but we’ve room for no more?’ Not a bit of it. He had another circus party for those who couldn’t come to the first.

“And Jay Rial’s face was full of smiles as he looked at the thousands of children who were shrieking with joy over the circus, and he said, ‘My dream has come true.’

“But,” ended daddy, “Jay Rial is one of those people who help to make dreams come true.”

FEBRUARY 4: Little Mildred’s Muff

“Mildred had lost her muff,” said daddy. “She lived in a small town near a big city. She went to school in the city. Every morning she took the train into the city and came back by train in the afternoon. When she got home that afternoon she told her mother and daddy what had happened. Mildred’s daddy said that he would telephone to the railway station to see if anything had been seen of it. Mildred stood by listening.

“‘Mildred,’ said her daddy, ‘they’re asking me if your muff had a head on it. Did it?’

“‘Oh, let me talk, daddy!’ And Mildred grabbed the receiver.

“‘Yes, yes,’ she cried excitedly into the telephone; ‘it had a black fox’s head on it!’ Then she heard the joyful words:

“‘I think it has been found and brought here.’

“Mildred could hardly wait until the morning came. Then she went with her daddy to the lost and found department of the railway station.

“As soon as she got inside she cried, ‘There is my muff over there with all those umbrellas and books!’ And she jumped up and down with happiness.”

FEBRUARY 5: The Coal-Bin

“I’m proud, that is what I am,” said a large piece of coal in the coal-bin. “There was a song written once about a king named Coal.”

“But,” said another piece of coal, “you have the idea, I believe, that his name was spelt as our name is spelt. I think that is wrong. The king spelt his name Cole. The song you mean goes like this, ‘Old King Cole was a merry old soul.’ Isn’t that the one you mean?”

“Yes,” said the large piece of coal which had spoken first. “That is the old song I mean. A fine one it is, to be sure. But what care I how the king spelt his name, or how the person who wrote the song spelt it? My grandfather once lived in a king’s coal-bin in a great palace. That is, he must have. Of course he never told me about it myself for he was burnt before I came around. But one of my grandfathers must have been in a king’s coal-bin and maybe he is still there. Kings must have coal-bins and be kept warm, mustn’t they?

“Perhaps I’ve a little cousin this very moment crackling and sizzling and burning for a king, who knows?

“But, now I come to think of it I don’t believe Old King Cole was good enough to belong to our family. He had to call for things all the time, whereas we are called for!

“Yes, people want us. They never knew before how much they appreciated us. They didn’t know it until we became a little scarce.”

“Yes,” said the other pieces of coal, “we can now hold up our coal heads and say to all the world, ‘Well, now what do you think of the coal-bin? You think a lot of it if we’re within it, and if the coal-bin is empty—ah, you’re sad!’

“Yes, that shows our importance. People talk about coal nowadays. They go around asking each other if they have enough coal. And people usually answer by saying that they are getting along all right but they would like to have more.

“They would like to have more of us, we, the fine pieces of coal, the coal which is at last appreciated, the coal which at last gets thanks for the warmth it gives, and the coal which is missed so sadly when it isn’t around!”

FEBRUARY 6: In Dreamland

“We’ve got lots of work to do to-night,” said the Dream King, and the Dream Fairies said, “What have we to do?”

“Well,” said the Dream King, “in talking to the Fairy Queen this afternoon, she said that she had quite a lot to tell me and she looked very sad.

“It seems that there have been many children lately she has heard telling each other unkind things they have heard about each other.

“For instance, she heard one little girl say to another little girl, ‘Oh, Sally, I heard Mamie say she thought you were awfully mean and selfish. I told her I didn’t think so. I stood up for you. I was your friend.’

“Well, the Fairy Queen said that made her mad. She said it was far worse of the little girl who came and told such a horrid thing than it even was in the little girl who had said it.

“I am going to give dreams to lots and lots of children who have said mean things. I am going to show them a huge room full of children and all the children will be crying and sobbing, and there won’t be enough handkerchiefs to go around.

“And I will tell them that these children are crying because of the mean speeches they have heard repeated.

“Hurry, Dream Fairies, tie up the dreams for me to take around. You know what I want now.

“And, Dream Fairies,” continued the Dream King, “I’m going to tell each girl and boy how every mean speech she or he thinks of and doesn’t make, or doesn’t repeat, will come straight to Dreamland and every week we will have a great big bonfire of them. Then all the Dream Fairies will laugh and sing as the mean speeches are burnt up.”

FEBRUARY 7: How the Inkfishes Protect Themselves

“Inkfishes,” said daddy; “aren’t black at all. In fact, they look very much like the ordinary jellyfish. But they are called inkfishes because when an enemy comes near them they drop ink out of an ink pocket they have near their mouths. You see, they can see perfectly through the ink, but the other fishes can’t and so when they dive down again and again and try to catch the inkfishes, they can’t do it. The water is so black they can’t see anything and they flounder off into the clear water, while the inkfishes keep out of their way.

“The jellyfishes and inkfishes are great friends and often visit each other. Little Kitty Inkfish and Nelly Jellyfish were especially good friends, and one day Kitty Inkfish asked her mother if she could invite Nelly Jellyfish to visit her for a whole week. Old Mrs. Inkfish consented, so Nelly Jellyfish was invited. Such excitement as there was, and all sorts of entertainments and parties were planned. Nelly Jellyfish arrived at exactly the hour she was invited to commence her visit. That afternoon the first party in her honor was to be given, and, of course, a number of other jellyfishes were invited for the party.

“But a great big, dangerous fish was hovering near. He saw all the nice fat looking jellyfishes, and he said to himself, ‘Here’s where I have a supper party too.’ So he dove through the water toward little Nelly Jellyfish. Oh, how frightened all the jellyfishes were, but as quickly as possible the inkfishes had dropped ink into the water and made it so black that the big fish couldn’t see. They all got out of the way, pulling the jellyfishes with them, and watched, with great amusement, the great big fish trying to find his way out.

“He coughed and sneezed with the ink in his face and made very wry faces at the taste of the ink, which made the inkfishes chuckle.

“At last the big fish had left, and all the jellyfishes congratulated the inkfishes on their wonderful means of protection, and they said they felt pretty sure that Nelly Jellyfish would be well looked after on her visit as well as have a wonderful time.”

FEBRUARY 8: The Vegetables

“The vegetables on the stove were talking,” said daddy. ‘I insist upon being well-cooked,’ said Mr. Leader Potato.

“‘To my mind, that is nonsense. The cook arranges the heat and puts us on the stove when she wants to,’ said one of the String-Beans. ‘She takes us off when she sees fit. And she gives us just what she wants in the way of salt and pepper and butter.’

“‘Yes, can you imagine her saying, “Mr. Bean, have you enough salt?”’

“‘Neither would she say,’ went on the Stewed Corn, “Are you quite warm enough, Mr. Corn, or are you too warm? I will open a window if you wish.” No! We do exactly as we’re told. Mr. Potato, you are wrong. Yes, I grieve to admit it, but you are quite, quite wrong.’

“‘I insist upon being well-cooked because if I am not well-cooked, I am extremely horrid to eat,’ repeated Mr. Leader Potato; ‘I am hard and not “done” at all. No one likes me then. So they find it is well to cook me properly.’

“‘We all should be cooked properly,’ said the others.

“‘You all should, it is true,’ said Mr. Leader Potato. ‘But it is absolutely important that I should be well-cooked. A half-cooked potato is so extremely disagreeable.’

“But as he was talking, along came the cook to mash Potato and his family, for dinner was almost ready.

“‘How much fussing over I require!’ said Mr. Potato proudly.”

FEBRUARY 9: The Life Saving St. Bernards

“Once there was an old man who owned a number of St. Bernard dogs,” said daddy. “One night they camped near a small settlement. The old man had found sticks and wood, and the dogs had carried it along on the sleds. So they had a huge fire. They got nice and warm and had a supper of the provisions they’d brought and which, too, the dogs had carried.

“But a storm could be seen coming, and the snow was flying so fast it was almost blinding. The old man rolled the dogs up in warm rugs, and then, rolling up in a sleeping bag, he went fast asleep.

“He had not been asleep long before he was awakened by one of the biggest St. Bernard dogs, who was tugging at his sleeping bag.

“‘What is it, my beauty?’ asked the old man. Still the dog tugged at the bag. The old man was so sleepy at first he was half dazed, but he opened his eyes. Slowly he realized that some one must be suffering near-by, for he heard a strange wailing sound as of some one in distress. He got up, put on some warm things, and, hitching some of the dogs to a sled, they started out into the blizzard.

“They went toward the place where the sound of the wailing came from, and there, half buried in the snow, they found a man almost frozen to death. The old man, with the help of the dogs, put him on the big sled and dragged him back to their camp. There the old man rubbed him, and by the fire he began to recover. He said he had started out for another settlement to find food and had become blinded by the snow until he could go no farther. He was so grateful to the old man for saving his life. But the old man told him that the dog had been the rescuer.”

FEBRUARY 10: The Birthday Goblin

“A little girl named Polly,” said daddy, “could hardly wait for her birthday to come. She had been thinking about it for a long time, and at last there was only one more night and the birthday would actually be here.

“It was bedtime and Polly was ready for bed.

“‘I’m going to stay awake for ages,’ she said to herself, ‘and try to guess what mother and daddy are going to give me, and what we’ll have to eat at the party. I do hope it will be ice-cream. I am a little afraid it won’t be, though, because when I asked mother about it, she said that perhaps it would be nice to have a change. Nothing is so nice as ice-cream for a birthday party.’

“‘That’s true,’ said a jolly little creature, who suddenly appeared before her.

“‘Who are you?’ asked Polly.

“‘I’m the birthday Goblin. That is, I am one of the birthday Goblins, for there are a good many of us needed for our work. There are such lots of birthdays,’ and the Goblin tossed his head and laughed.

“‘And,’ continued the Goblin, ‘I tell mothers and daddies not to forget the good, old-fashioned way of putting a ring, a thimble and a button in the cake. I have to see about the presents, too. For how well I know what the girls and boys like as presents! That’s our business, you know.’

“‘Are we going to have ice-cream tomorrow?’ asked Polly.

“‘Yes,’ said the Goblin. ‘Your mother took my suggestions so quickly. I didn’t have to coax her at all. But your birthday is here and the sun has been up some time. Good-by, happy birthday!’ And as Polly opened her eyes, her mother was by her bed, whispering that always wonderful birthday wish of:

“‘Many happy returns of the day!’”

FEBRUARY 11: A Make-Believe and Real President

“You have heard,” said daddy, “how Abraham Lincoln pretended the cabbages which he grew in his garden were real people and how he named them. The straightest and very best-looking one he named General Strong, and another he named Captain Brave. One more he admired especially and thought it an exceptionally fine looking cabbage. He called it Mr. President, and little did he then think that he, the little boy, would be President when he grew up.”

FEBRUARY 12: Abraham Lincoln

“I have one little story to tell you to-night which I don’t think you’ve heard before,” said daddy. “When the present King of Siam was a little boy and his governess was teaching him American history he became so impressed with Abraham Lincoln and his freeing of the slaves and the tragedy of his death, that he said,

“‘When I become King I will free the slaves of the palace.’

“‘Will you promise me that?’ his governess asked, and the little boy promised. And when he became king all of the wives and slaves of the royal palace—four or five hundred—were freed and were given money and assistance to get fresh starts as free people.

“That story came to me,” daddy continued, “from my own mother who knew the governess, and I have never told it to you two children before.

“And while it is splendid to think of a little boy in far-off Siam loving and following the great example of our splendid Lincoln, still I’ve been thinking to-day that the greatest thing of all is that we all know Lincoln so well that we can hardly find a new story to tell of him.

“He was so simple, so human, so real a person that we have all grown to know him—not only as a President and a magnificent figure in history—but as Abraham Lincoln, the man of the people.”

FEBRUARY 13: Isa’s Valentine Party