Part 2

"Well," said Tony, "the man must have been very cruel to it, for it is very thin and tired."

"O father, _don't_ send it back," said Elsie.

"But I thought _you_ did not like monkeys," said father.

"Yes, yes, I do," replied Elsie; "I like this one very much."

"Then," said father, "I shall ask the man if we may buy him."

The next day the man was sent for, and he willingly sold the monkey to father. "For," he said, "Jacko will never do much good now."

So Jacko was tenderly cared for and fed, and very soon his foot got all better, and he began to grow fat.

He was very kind to the children, and would play with them, but sometimes he was very mischievous.

One day, when the maid was washing, she went into the garden and found the clothes all lying about on the grass.

"Dear me," she said, "I cannot have hung them up right." So she pinned them up again, and went into the house. Presently, out she came once more, and what was her surprise to find the clothes all down again!

The maid said, "I will put them up again, and this time I will watch."

So she pinned the clothes up again, and hid behind the door.

Presently, along the garden wall came Jacko. Away he ran along the clothes-line, picking out all the pegs as he went, and down dropped the clothes upon the grass.

"Oh, you villain!" cried the maid; "take that!" And she threw a bowl of water at Jacko. But Jacko only made a face at her as he scampered away.

So Jacko had recovered his spirits, and was very happy. Let us hope he will live for many, many years.

_The Horse that went to Church._

=Maggie= and May had a dear old horse which was a great pet, and its name was Bobbie.

Now Bobbie was very, very wise, and if I were to tell you all the funny things he did, why, I should fill this book so that there would not be room for anything else.

Of course, these two little girls lived in the country; for boys and girls who live in towns very seldom have a horse to play with.

It was harvest time, and the reapers were very busy cutting down the golden corn and binding it into sheaves.

Have you ever been in a harvest field on a summer afternoon? I can tell you it is delightful, and those of you who have not been there have missed something very nice indeed.

Now every afternoon there was great running to and fro in the farm kitchen, for Mollie, the cook, was putting into a basket tea, and bread and butter, and scones, and all sorts of good things for Maggie and May to take to the workers in the harvest field.

At four o'clock the stable boy opened the stable door, and out trotted Bobbie, saddled; for he, too, was going to the harvest field.

Maggie would ride upon his back, and May would carry the basket; and when the workers saw them coming they would all sit down in a corner of the field waiting to have tea.

Bobbie knew the road to the field quite well, but, sad to say, he was very lazy, and would not hurry at all. Then Maggie would drive him close to the hedge, and pretend she was getting a stick to whip him with. When she did this he began to trot, and never stopped until he came to the gate in the field.

When tea was over, and all the things were gathered into the basket again, these two little girls would both get on Bobbie's back, one behind the other; and he galloped off, for he was thinking to himself, "Now I am going back to my stable and to a good feed of hay."

When all the corn was gathered in and sent away to be made into flour, Maggie and May went back to school. Bobbie went with them every day, for it was too far away for little girls to walk.

They would both jump upon his back, and with a "Gee-up, Bobbie," off he trotted.

Every Sunday Bobbie went to church. I do not mean that he went into church, for I am afraid the seat would not have held him, and he would have looked rather funny.

As soon as the first bell rang, the stable boy harnessed him to the trap, and round trotted Bobbie to the door of the house.

When the second bell began to ring Maggie and May got into the dogcart and drove off to church. When they got there Bobbie was put into a stable not far away until the service was over.

Now one Sunday morning these two little girls could not go to church, so that Bobbie was not harnessed as usual.

When the first bell began to ring Maggie said to May, "Listen, May; I think I hear Bobbie crying for us. Let us look out of the window."

There, with his head looking over the stable door, was Bobbie, whinnying as loudly as he could.

"Look, look!" cried May; "he is trying to get out."

Just then Bobbie gave a great jump over the door, and was trotting off to church.

He went straight to his stall in the stable, and remained there until the service was over; and when the other horses backed out, Bobbie did the same, and came home, no doubt feeling that he had done his duty.

_The Weasel and the Rabbit._

=Freda= and Max were having a holiday in a lovely country town. Every day they went for a walk, sometimes climbing hills, and at other times going down by the river.

One morning Uncle Jim said,--

"Let us all go down to Hope's Farm and see the farmer, and I may just fish a little in the river before coming home."

"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried Freda and Max together. "I should love to see you catch a fish."

So off they went. There were Freda and Max, Uncle Jim, and father and mother--quite a jolly party.

It was a lovely morning, and the banks at the sides of the road were clad with all kinds of flowers. Freda and Max gathered big bunches, and Don, the sheep-dog, kept poking his nose into every rabbit hole he came to. Sometimes he got so far down the hole that only his hind legs were sticking out.

Don was very anxious to catch a rabbit, and sometimes he sat outside poor bunny's house for quite a long time, with his ears pricked up and his head on one side, listening. He _did_ catch a rabbit once, but I will tell you about that some other time.

Well, after Freda and Max and all the others had walked for some miles, they came to the farm. It stood at the foot of a high hill, and quite near to the river.

Max said how jolly it would be to jump out of bed in the mornings and fish for trout for breakfast.

Uncle Jim saw the farmer, who gave each of them a glass of milk to drink. It was fresh from the cow and still warm. They all sat down on the grass before the house to drink it.

The sun was shining, and the birds were singing, and Freda said it would be lovely to sit there for ever and ever.

Max said _he_ did not think so. He wanted to go fishing some day like Uncle Jim.

But Freda said, "Of course, Max is only a boy."

I am afraid these two children would have begun to quarrel there and then, had not Uncle Jim cried out,--

"Look! look! there are some trout jumping out of the water."

And it was quite true. The river was sparkling in the sunshine, and the trout were leaping out of it high into the air to catch the flies for food.

Suddenly, it seemed as if the whole world had stopped moving. The birds ceased their singing, and all was silent.

They all sat and looked, and presently, away at the other side of the broad river, near the edge of the wood, a rabbit came hopping along as though in great pain. They all watched until it disappeared into the wood.

"What is the matter with the poor rabbit?" said Max.

"Hush!" said Uncle Jim. "See what is coming now."

And there, creeping along swiftly and silently, in the very track of the poor rabbit, was a large weasel.

They all watched it with bated breath.

Nearer and nearer the weasel got to the place where the rabbit had fled, and presently it, too, went out of sight.

"Oh! I do hope poor bunny is safe now," cried Freda.

But alas, just then a loud scream rang through the wood, and they knew then that at last the weasel had caught the rabbit.

Uncle Jim then waded across the river, and went into the wood to see if he could find the weasel, but he came back without being able to do so.

"But how could a small weasel kill a large rabbit?" asked Max.

"Well, you see," said Uncle Jim, "when a weasel hunts a rabbit, the rabbit is so much afraid that it loses all its strength, so that it is unable to run fast and get to a place of safety."

"Then the weasel very soon catches the rabbit and kills it."

"I hate weasels," said Freda.

"So do I," said Max.

"Oh, well, you see," said Uncle Jim, "the weasel must get food; and I know some little people who are very fond of rabbit pie."

_The Saucy Squirrels._

"=Do= tell me a true story, auntie," said Maggie one evening.

"Very well," answered auntie. "It is just half an hour before bed-time. Now what shall I tell you?"

"It must be a true story," said Maggie, "because, you know, we agreed that bed-time stories must be true. Do you know anything about squirrels?"

"Yes, I do," answered auntie, "and I will tell you about them.

"One day, not very long ago, Auntie Jessie and I went for a walk in Regent's Park.

"Now you may remember that this park is quite near to the Zoo, and as you walk along you can hear the roaring of the lions and the shrieking of the different animals in their cages not far away.

"It was a beautiful spring day, and Auntie Jessie and I were sauntering along one of the walks, when suddenly she said,--

"'Look, look! there is one of the squirrels out of the Zoo! It must have escaped.'

"And there, sitting in the middle of the path before us was a lovely gray squirrel, with its bushy tail curled up its back.

"'Ah, how pretty it is,' I cried. 'See, it is not a bit afraid!'

"Auntie Jessie threw some biscuit to it, and it came close up to us.

"'Why,' I cried, 'I do believe there are some more coming to us.'

"And down the trees they came, helter-skelter, along the grass as fast as they could.

"'Well,' said Auntie Jessie, 'I had no idea there were squirrels here.'

"'Nor I,' I said. 'Let us go and buy some nuts and buns for them to eat.'

"'Yes, do,' said Auntie Jessie, and off we went.

"We came back in a very short time, and when the squirrels saw us they came scampering along once more.

"I stood with my back to the railings, and one bold little squirrel climbed up my back. Then it ran along my arm as I held it out, and took nuts out of my hand.

"Then some would climb up my dress, and when I looked up I saw one saucy little squirrel sitting on Auntie Jessie's shoulder.

"Another one who was not very hungry took a nut and ran along the grass, scratched away some leaves with his foot, made a little hole, dropped the nut inside, covered it all up again with the earth and leaves, and then came back for more.

"Oh, he was a funny little fellow! You see that was his cupboard, and he kept all his food there until he was hungry enough to eat it."

"How pretty they must have been!" said Maggie.

"Yes, they were indeed," answered auntie, "and some day I shall take you there, and you can then feed them yourself.

"After we had fed the squirrels, it was time for us to come home. As we were coming along the lane I found something awfully nice. Can you guess what it was?"

"A purse," answered Maggie.

"Wrong," said auntie. "Try again."

"A bracelet."

"Wrong again," said auntie. "I will tell you.

"Just as Auntie Jessie and I were coming past the orchard we spied a black-looking object in the path before us. As we got nearer to it we found it was a tiny young blackbird. It had flown down from its nest in the tree, and now it was too afraid to move.

"I took it in my hand, and how its little heart did beat! It was very much afraid. Then I went into the orchard, and put it in a place of safety, and it fluttered away.

"We had not gone very far along the road again when Auntie Jessie gave a squeal and jumped back.

"Just then down dropped a young thrush from another tree. But just as I was going to pick it up it flew across the road. So I left it there, as it was quite able to take care of itself.

"And now there is not time to tell you any more to-night, for it is time to go to bed."

_The Owl in the Dovecot._

"=Father=," said Jack, when he came home from school one day, "I have had a lesson to-day about the owl."

"Have you?" said Jack's father. "And what did the teacher tell you?"

"Well," said Jack, "the teacher told us how it slept in the day time and only came out after dusk. Have you ever seen an owl, father?"

"Yes I have," answered Jack's father. "Come and I will tell you about it."

So Jack sat himself down on the mat before the fire, and father cleared his throat and began,--

"Once upon a time, when I was a boy like you, I had a little brother, and his name was Bob.

"Now Bob and I used to play together, go to school together, go to bed together--in fact, we did nearly everything together.

"Bob said one day to his mother, 'Mother, I should _love_ to have some real doves. Do, please, get me some.'

"So mother said, 'Well, I will help you to get some, but you must save up all your pennies as well.'

"Bob and I saved up our Saturday pennies for a long time. At last, with mother's help, we had enough to buy some doves. They _were_ pretty, all white, with rings round their necks.

"I can remember what fun we had putting up the dovecot. We placed it against the wall of the house, and not far from our bed-room window.

"Our house was in the country, and when Bob and I were in bed at night we could hear the owls hooting and crying to one another. It was a weird sound, and if Bob and I had not known what it was, I think we should have been very much afraid. But then, you know, it was only the owls' way of talking to one another.

"Well, one night, a long time after Bob and I had gone to bed, we heard a very strange noise.

"'Did you hear that noise, Bob?' I said.

"'Yes,' said Bob. 'I wonder what it is.'

"The noise still went on, so Bob said,--

"'Let's get up. I believe the noise is in the dovecot.'

"So we both jumped out of bed, and got into our clothes as fast as ever we could.

"Bob picked up the candle, and we ran out, and what do you think had happened?

"First of all, we saw the door of the dovecot wide open. Bob had forgotten to close it for the first time. There, lying dead upon the floor, was one of our pretty doves.

"By this time father and mother came rushing out to see what all the noise was about.

"They brought a lantern, and we looked inside. The other doves were trying to hide in the corners, or clinging to the wire-netting in a great state of fear.

"At last we could see a great dusky owl crouching on a box near the roof. Its feathers were all ruffled up, and its great black eyes staring at us as it kept rocking to and fro. Then it lay down on its back and pretended it was dead.

"All at once it got up in a great rage, struggling, scratching, and flapping its wings to try to escape.

"'Let us carry the box to the summer-house,' said Bob.

"So we took the box out with the owl in it, and carried it to the summer-house, and left it there for the rest of the night. You see we wanted to see the owl in daylight.

"Very, very early in the morning there came another owl to seek its mate; and when it could not find it, the bird sat upon the roof of the house and called and called again in very mournful tones for quite a long time.

"The next morning Bob and I went straight to the summer-house to see our captive.

"It was now quite quiet, and sat on Bob's hand letting him stroke it gently.

"'What shall we do with it?' said Bob to me.

"'Let us take it to the old tree in the field,' I answered.

"So Bob put it down near the hollow of the tree, and it shuffled away into the darkness.

"And that is the end of the story," said Jack's father.

"But why did you let it go?" cried Jack.

"Well, the farmer does not like people to kill owls, as they eat up the mice that do harm to his corn-fields."

_A True Story of a Canary._

=It= was the day after New Year's Day, and we had all gathered at Uncle Jim's house to have a tea-party. When I say _we_, I mean Ethel, and Mabel, and Godfrey, and myself. Of course, Ethel's mother was there, as well as _her_ uncle and aunt, and altogether we had a lot of people.

Presently, Ida came.

Now Ida is Ethel's very dear friend, and she lives at the sea-side. She had to come in the train to get to our party.

Uncle Jim has two canaries, and they are such dear little things.

One is called Dicky and the other Fluffy.

Dicky is a beautiful singer and very proud; he is always preening his feathers to make himself look nice. Fluffy cannot sing at all. She sometimes tries to imitate Dicky, and all the sound she makes is a croak. Then she looks quite ashamed of herself.

These two little birds are so tame, they come out of their cages and fly about the room.

They sometimes alight on the table and pick up crumbs, and Fluffy will even hop on to the edge of your plate and steal your dinner. They look very tiny when they hop about the table.

Fluffy is a very greedy bird. She is always eating, and whenever she sees a loaf of bread on the table she cheeps and cheeps until she gets some crumbs.

Now when Ida saw these birds she looked very sad.

"Why, Ida," said Godfrey, "you look quite ready to cry. Whatever is the matter?"

"Well," said Ida, "a most dreadful thing happened yesterday. A lady asked me to take care of her canary while she went away to do some shopping. I did so, and was teaching it to fly about the room like Fluffy and Dicky.

"It was a very valuable bird, and she prized it greatly.

"In the afternoon I thought I would let it out of its cage. It flew round the room a few times, and then to my horror it went straight into the fire. There was just a little squeak, and it was gone."

The bright fire had attracted this little bird, and now Ida did not know how she would tell the owner when she came back for her pet.

So this is a warning to all little boys and girls who have birds to keep--to be sure to put a guard before the fire before letting them out of their cages.

THE END.

+Transcriber's Notes+

1. Typographical errors have been silently corrected.

2. Variations of spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.

3. The text version is coded for italics and the like mark-ups i.e., a) italics are indicated thus _italic_; b) small caps are indicated thus =small-caps=; c) strong/bold text is indicated thus +strong+ d) Images in the book are indicated as [Illustration] at the respective place, between paragraphs.