Part 19

One day, about two weeks after he came into the house to live, a letter came from Milwaukee saying that he, too, must be sent off. And of course, Mischief knew about it. How could he help it, when the whole household were so sorry to have him go? And accordingly he began to make ready for the long journey he was so soon to take.

As he sat by the range, evidently trying to make up his mind what to take with him, his first thought was of the old coat he had had as a bed; so he crossed the room, took the coat in his mouth, and with his paws scratched it up into a bundle.

Then he thought of his milk-dish. Of course he must take that, for how could he drink from any other dish than the shiny one given him by the cook two weeks before? So he took that between his teeth and put it beside the coat. And the stove-hook, why not take that? No one seemed to be using it just at the moment. And a gelatin-box that had just been emptied, would it not be nice to pack his new collar in?

So he ran tumbling across the floor for the box, and back again for the string, when just then a pair of mittens caught his eye, and in this cold weather the mittens would be a comfort on so long a journey, so they were added to the collection under the table. And Mischief was just thinking he was about ready to start, when the very thing he most dreaded to leave behind him ran across the floor--the little yellow kitten; why could she not go with him, and then the journey would not seem so long? Accordingly, he ran after her, caught her by the neck, and tried to put her down with his other baggage; but the kitten could not understand what Mischief meant, and scratched and spit in a way that plainly said she would not accompany him.

Poor Mischief lay down in despair, and, after his hard morning's work, took a long nap, only waking in time for his dinner. The next day he was put into a warm box, carried to the station, and after a three days' journey arrived in Milwaukee, happy, well, and delighted with his new master, apparently quite forgetting his little mistress whom he left in her New Hampshire home.

WILLIE AND HIS DOG DIVER

BY H. N. POWERS

Willie was a very little child and lived near a mill. One day he saw a big cruel boy come along and throw a little puppy into the mill-pond, and then run away. Willie cried out: "O Papa, Papa, do come here!"

"What is the matter?" said his papa.

"Oh, Papa! I want the little doggie! Please get him for me. He will be drowned!"

His papa took a long pole and put it under the puppy's neck and pulled it out of the water and gave it to Willie. He was very happy with his dog, which, by next year, grew to be a big, strong, shaggy fellow, and was named Diver. He used to go with Willie everywhere the boy went, and he loved Willie very much. Everybody said: "What a beautiful dog!" and Willie was proud of him.

One day when the nuts were ripe, Willie took his basket and went to pick hazelnuts. One big bush full of nuts hung over a deep place in the mill-pond, and, as Willie reached for the top branch, he slipped and fell in the water out of sight. But when he came up, Diver jumped in, took him by his collar, and brought him safe to land. So if it was good for Willie to save the dog's life when he was a little puppy, it was good for the dog to save Willie's life when _he_ was a little boy.

And that was Diver's way of thanking Willie for saving his life. It was a very good way, too! And Willie and Diver were always the best of friends.

GORDON'S TOY CASTLE ON THE HILL

BY EVERETT WILSON

Last Christmas little Gordon Bruce had a fine, large Christmas tree and lots of toys, just as a great many other nice boys and girls had. The tree was up in his playroom, a great, big, sunny room that used to be called the "nursery" when he was a baby.

A few days after Christmas, Gordon's mother said: "Now, Gordon, I think we will have to take down your Christmas tree, for it is getting all dried up, and the little pine needles are dropping all over the floor, and the maid has to sweep them up every day."

Gordon was sorry to have the tree taken down, for it looked so bright and Christmas-y, and he knew it would be a whole year before he would have another Christmas tree, so he asked his mother if she wouldn't wait just one day more. I think that is the way almost all the girls and boys feel. And his mother said she would wait until to-morrow.

It was a rainy day, and as none of his little friends were with him, he began to play with all his toys one after the other; there were many of them, and some of the little ones were still hanging on the tree.

Gordon's father came from Scotland, and he had read to Gordon many stories of the old days in Scotland, when the great generals and the noble lords lived in strong castles set high up on the mountains, so that the soldiers could not get near them. Now among Gordon's Christmas presents was a tiny castle just like the ones he had seen in the books his father read the stories from; and with this castle came a lot of soldiers.

So this day Gordon got out his castle and soldiers and began to play with them. First he got a chair and put a big, thick rug over it to make it look like a steep hill; then he set the castle on top of the hill and stood the soldiers on the ground at the bottom of the hill--all in a row. He was making believe that the soldiers were trying to get up to the castle. Then he dropped some beautiful colored glass marbles, that his Uncle George had given him, down on the floor of the castle. The marbles rolled out of the front door of the castle and down the rug to the bottom of the hill, and bang! they would bump right against the tall soldiers and tumble them down. One after another Gordon would roll the marbles down until by and by every one of the soldiers would be knocked over, and as they were only wooden soldiers, of course they couldn't get up by themselves. Then Gordon would stand them all up in a row again and roll the marbles down the hill until not a single soldier was standing. It was lots of fun for Gordon, for you know it really didn't hurt the soldiers a bit, for they were only made of wood and their uniforms were just red and blue paint.

The next day Gordon's mother took down the tree, and packed up the beautiful things that were on it, and put them away until next Christmas.

HANS THE INNOCENT

WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATED BY M. I. WOOD

Once upon a time there was a woman called Mrs. Stockchen and she had a son named Hans. They lived together in a little cottage and they had a hen and a cow.

One morning Mrs. Stockchen said to her son: "Hans, my dear, will you take Cowslip, the cow, to pasture, and remember not to be late for supper." "Very well," said Hans, and he took up his stick and started for the field.

The sun was very hot when he got there, and seeing a row of five shady trees, he lay down underneath them and fell asleep in two seconds. He snored with his mouth open. Cowslip had been watching him and when she saw his eyes close, she said, "Now! here's my chance!" and, jumping over the fence, she ran away.

Hans stopped snoring and awoke at supper-time. He looked for Cowslip, but she had disappeared; he ran about calling for her, but she did not come; and at last he went home to his mother with a very sad face and said: "Oh, mother, Cowslip ran away while I was asleep. I have looked for her and cannot find her anywhere."

"You lazy, careless, naughty, careless, naughty, lazy Boy!" cried Mrs. Stockchen. "You have left my poor cow wandering all alone. She will lose her way in the dark. Just you go and find her this instant. You will get no supper till you bring her back, or my name is not Matilda Maria!"

Mrs. Stockchen had grown quite scarlet with rage and she shook the soup-ladle at her son to make him go faster. It was getting quite dark by the time Hans reached the field again and nowhere did he see any trace of the cow. He did not know in what direction she had gone, so he walked round and round the field, feeling very miserable.

Just as 10 o'clock was striking, Cowslip stepped out from behind a tree, and kneeling at Hans's feet, said in a choking voice, "I am really very sorry, Hans." "Well," said Hans, "I am sorry too, but let us get home now." So they set out, tired and rather cross.

But when they came within sight of the light in their own cottage window, they met two soldiers who stopped them, and asked what they were doing out so late. "We're just going home," said Hans. "Why," said the soldiers "you ought to have been there two hours ago."

"Well, I couldn't help it," said Hans, "this cow ran away and I had to fetch her before going home to supper."

"Boy!" said the soldiers, "you are not speaking the truth, you have stolen the cow, and you are very impertinent as well. We will take you to prison."

They tied a rope round Hans's neck and another round the cow's, and took them to prison. They put Hans into a dungeon full of horrid creatures, but they let poor Cowslip wander about in the fields outside.

One morning when Hans was crying because the door was locked and because the window bars looked so strong, Cowslip heard him. She came up beside the window, and standing on her hind-legs she peeped in and said, "Hans, my dear master, do you think that if I tried to knock down the wall with my horns, you could get out?" "I will try," said Hans. It was rather hard work for Cowslip, but at last she made a big enough hole and Hans leaped out.

He knocked off his hat in doing so, but then Hans didn't care about a little thing like that.

He jumped on her back, and away they went, over fallen trees, stones, ditches, hedges, everything. They came in sight of the cottage at last, and the sound of their approach caused Mrs. Stockchen to look out of the window. When she saw who it was she fairly jumped for joy and she rushed out at once to meet them.

Hans fell into his mother's arms. And they all lived happily ever afterward.

A REAL LITTLE BOY BLUE

BY CAROLINE S. ALLEN

Once there were four little brothers. The oldest had black eyes. He was called Little Boy Black. But I haven't time to tell about him just now. The second little brother had brown eyes. He was called Little Boy Brown. But I cannot tell you about him either. The third little brother had gray eyes, and was called Little Boy Gray. There is a very nice story I could tell you about him, but I am sure you would rather hear about the fourth little brother.

For the youngest little brother had blue eyes; and his father and mother, his grandfather and grandmother, and every one else, called him Little Boy Blue. His eyes were very blue--as blue as the flowers you find down by the brook. You love the blue flowers, I know. And so I will tell you about Little Boy Blue.

His jacket was blue, his trousers were blue, his stockings were blue, and even his little shoes were blue.

One day Little Boy Blue's mother said to him: "Do you want to go and visit Aunt Polly?" "Who is Aunt Polly?" asked Little Boy Blue. "Aunt Polly lives on a farm, on a high hill. She has horses, and cows, and pigs, and hens, and ducks, and geese--" "And elephants?" asked Little Boy Blue. "No, not any elephants. But she has a woolly white lamb." "Oh, then I will go," cried Little Boy Blue. So his mother went up-stairs and found a little blue traveling-bag. And in the little blue bag she packed some of Little Boy Blue's clothes. Then Little Boy Blue and his mother went to visit Aunt Polly, who lived on a farm on a high hill.

Little Boy Blue's mother stayed two days, and Little Boy Blue stayed ten days. When his mother was going home, she said to Aunt Polly: "Little Boy Blue likes to play, but he likes to work, too. So be sure to give him some work to do every day."

"Very well," said Aunt Polly. And so by-and-by Aunt Polly went to find Little Boy Blue. And she said to him: "Dear Little Boy Blue, what can you do to help?" He thought a minute, and then he said: "I can eat apples to see if they are ripe. And I can pull the roses in the garden, if you have too many."

"The apples are not ripe, and I have just enough roses in the garden," said Aunt Polly. "Can you drive the cows out of the corn?"

"Oh, yes, I can," said Little Boy Blue, "if Towzer can come too." Towzer was the dog.

"And perhaps you can look after the sheep?"

"Yes, Aunt Polly, I can do that," said Little Boy Blue.

On the shelf in Little Boy Blue's room stood a little blue clock. And every morning at five o'clock the door of the clock flew open, and a cuckoo came out. The cuckoo said, "Cuck-oo," five times, and then went into the little blue clock again, and the little door closed after him. Then Little Boy Blue knew it was time to get up.

When he was dressed, he came down-stairs, and Aunt Polly gave him his breakfast. He had new milk in a blue bowl, and johnny-cake on a little blue plate. These he always carried out onto the door-step because he liked, while he was eating and drinking, to see the green grass bending in the breeze, and the yellow butterflies dancing here and there in the sunshine.

"This is the creamiest milk I ever saw," said Little Boy Blue.

"That's nice," said Aunt Polly. "Do you want some more?"

"Yes, please," said Little Boy Blue. So Aunt Polly brought the blue pitcher, and poured more creamy milk into his little blue bowl, and Little Boy Blue said: "Thank you, Aunt Polly."

When Little Boy Blue could eat no more golden johnny-cake, and drink no more creamy milk, he jumped up from the door-step.

First he put his arms around Aunt Polly's neck, and gave her a hug and a kiss. Then he went into the house to get his horn. The horn was a little blue one, and it hung on a peg near the kitchen door.

What do you suppose the horn was for? Why, Little Boy Blue watched the cows and the sheep. Then if they got into the wrong places, and trampled on the crops, Little Boy Blue blew the horn. One of the men always heard the horn, and came to help drive the cows or the sheep back where they belonged.

All this was very pleasant. But one day--what do you think? The sheep ran away, and jumped over a stone wall into the meadow, and the cows got into the corn. Nobody knew how it happened. Little Boy Blue had gone out that morning, just as he always did, to look after them; and no one had heard any horn. At last Towzer ran up to the barn, barking loudly. That was to give the alarm--about the sheep and the cows.

"How queer!" said Aunt Polly, who was in the barn-yard feeding the chickens.

"How strange!" said Uncle Ben.

"Where's Little Boy Blue?" asked the men.

"I'll call him," said Aunt Polly. So she walked, and she walked, all around the farm. As Aunt Polly walked she looked here, and she looked there. And she called:

"Little Boy Blue! Come blow your horn. The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn."

Where do you think Aunt Polly found him? When the head-farmer asked her, "Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep?" Aunt Polly said: "He's under the haycock, fast asleep."

"Shall we go wake him?" said the head-farmer.

"No, no; let him lie," said Aunt Polly. "For if we should wake him, 'he'd cry, cry, cry.'"

You see Little Boy Blue got up so early, he grew sleepy. And the sun was hot. And the haymow made a soft pillow. So he fell sound asleep, and dreamed about the woolly white lamb.

But on the day after that, Little Boy Blue took a nap, first, so that when he looked after the cows and the sheep he could keep awake. He never again had to be told to blow his horn.

When Little Boy Blue's visit was over, Aunt Polly said: "You've been a dear little helper. I'm going to give you something to take home." And, oh, joy! it was the woolly white lamb!

TRAVELS OF A FOX

ADAPTED BY CECILIA FARWELL

The Fox was digging under an old tree and found a bumblebee. He gathered it up and put it into his bag and tied the string. Then he went to the first cottage at the end of the village street and said:

"Good morning, Good Mother. The way is long, and I am weary. May I leave my bag here while I go to the grocery store?"

"That will be all right," said the old woman, "put it behind the door."

So the Fox put the bag behind the door, saying, as he did so: "Be sure that you do not untie the string, Good Mother." Then he went out of the cottage and on up the road.

The old woman looked at the bag and said to herself: "Now, I wonder what that sly fellow carries so carefully? It will do no harm to see."

So she untied the string and started to look into the bag, and when the bag was opened the bumblebee flew out, and the rooster which was stalking about in the kitchen promptly ate him up.

When the Fox came back he saw that his bag had been opened and he said to the old woman: "Where is my bumblebee?"

"I opened the bag for but an instant," said the old woman, "and the bumblebee flew out and the rooster ate him up."

"Then I must take the rooster," said the Fox. So he gathered up the rooster, put him into the bag and tied the string, and threw the bag over his shoulder and went on down the road.

When he came to the next cottage he knocked at the door and said: "Good morning, Good Mother. The way is long and I am weary. May I leave my bag here while I go on to the grocery store?"

"That will be all right," said the old woman, "put it behind the door."

So the Fox put the bag behind the door, saying as he did so: "Be sure that you do not untie the string, Good Mother," and he went on down the road.

The old woman looked at the bag and said to herself, "Now I wonder what it is that that sly old fellow carries so carefully. It will do no harm to see."

So she untied the string and started to look into the bag, and when the bag was opened the rooster flew out, and the pig which was in the kitchen promptly ate him up.

When the Fox came back he saw that the bag had been opened, and he said: "Where is my rooster, Good Mother?"

"I opened the bag for but an instant, and the rooster flew out and the pig ate him up," said the woman.

"Then I must have the pig," said the Fox. So he gathered up the pig and put him into the bag and tied the string and threw the bag over his shoulder and went on down the road.

When he came to the next cottage he knocked at the door and said: "Good morning, Good Mother. The way is long and I am weary. May I leave my bag here while I go to the grocery store?"

"That will be all right," said the old woman, "put it behind the door."

So the Fox put the bag behind the door, saying as he did so, "Be sure that you do not untie the string, Good Mother," and went on down the road.

The old woman looked at the bag and said to herself: "Now I wonder what it is that that sly old fellow carries so carefully. It will do no harm to see."

So she untied the string and opened the bag the least little bit, and the pig jumped out of the bag and ran into the house where the ox stood and the ox promptly gored him to death.

When the Fox came back and saw that the bag had been opened he said: "Where is my pig, Good Mother?"

"I opened the bag the least little bit, and the pig jumped out and the ox gored him to death," said the woman.

"Then I must have the ox," said the Fox. So he went out into the yard and gathered up the ox and put him into the bag and tied the string and threw the bag on his back and went on down the road.

When he came to the next cottage he knocked at the door and said: "Good morning, Good Mother. The way is long and I am weary. May I leave my bag here while I go to the grocery store?"

"That will be all right," said the old woman, "put it behind the door."

So the Fox put the bag behind the door, saying as he did so: "Be sure that you do not untie the string, Good Mother," and went on down the road.

The woman looked at the bag and said to herself: "Now I wonder what it is that that sly old fellow carries so carefully? It will do no harm to see."

So she untied the string and opened the bag and the ox jumped out and ran out into the yard, and the little boy who was playing there chased him off over the hill and into the wood.

When the Fox came back he saw that the string had been untied, and he said to the old woman: "Where is my ox?"

"I opened the bag the least little bit, and the ox jumped out and the little boy chased him over the hill and into the wood," said the old woman.

"Then I must take the little boy," said the Fox.

So he gathered up the little boy and put him into the bag and tied the string and threw the bag over his shoulder and started off down the road.

When he came to the next house he knocked at the door and said: "Good morning, Good Mother. The way is long and I am weary. May I leave my bag while I go to the store?"

"That will be all right," said the woman, "put it behind the door."

So the Fox put the bag behind the door, saying as he did so: "Be sure that you do not untie the string, Good Mother," and went off.

This woman was very busy that morning, making cake, and she had no time to think of the bag, and it lay there for a long time. By-and-by when the cake was done her little boys gathered around the table, crying: "Let me taste the cake, Mother. Give me a piece of cake!" And she gave each one of them a piece of cake.

The cake smelled so good that the little boy in the bag cried out: "Oh, I want a piece of cake, too."

When the woman heard the little boy cry out she went to the bag, and looking down at it, she said: "Now I wonder what that sly Fox has been about?" And the little boy cried out again, and the woman untied the string and let him out, and took the house dog and put him into the bag instead, and the little boy joined the others around the table, and she gave him a piece of the cake.

When the Fox came back he saw that the bag was all tied up, and looked just as it had when he left it, so he took it from behind the door and threw it over his shoulder, saying to himself: "I have had a long journey to-day, and I am hungry. And I have not done so badly, either. I will now go into the woods and see how the little boy tastes."

So he went into the woods and untied the string to take the little boy out of the bag. But the little boy, as we know, was standing around the table with the other little boys eating cake. And no sooner was the string untied than the house dog jumped out of the bag and sprang right on the Fox, and they had a fight right then and there in the woods. Pretty soon the dog went trotting down the road. But the Fox did not go home. In fact he did not go anywhere at all.

OEYVIND AND MARIT

Oeyvind was his name. A low barren cliff overhung the house in which he was born, fir and birch looked down on the roof, and wild-cherry strewed flowers over it. Upon this roof there walked about a little goat, which belonged to Oeyvind. He was kept there that he might not go astray, and Oeyvind carried leaves and grass up to him. One fine day the goat leaped down, and--away to the cliff; he went straight up, and came where he never had been before. Oeyvind did not see him when he came out after dinner, and thought immediately of the fox. He grew hot all over, looked around about, and called, "Killy-killy-killy-goat."

"Bay-ay-ay," said the goat, from the brow of the hill, as he cocked his head on one side and looked down.

But at the side of the goat there kneeled a little girl.

"Is it yours, this goat?" she asked.

Oeyvind stood with eyes and mouth wide open, thrust both hands into the breeches he had on, and asked, "Who are you?"

"I am Marit, mother's little one, father's fiddle, the elf in the house, grand-daughter of Ole Nordistuen of the Heide farms, four years old in the autumn, two days after the frost nights, I!"