Part 1
FIVE MINUTE STORIES
[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
Books by Laura E. Richards
=STEPPING WESTWARD=
This charming autobiography by the daughter of Julia Ward Howe and Samuel Gridley Howe is replete with amusing anecdotes and portraits, especially of famous literary figures of Boston. It epitomizes a long and useful life. Illustrated. $3.00
=FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE=
The absorbing story of “The Angel of the Crimea” told by the daughter of the person most responsible for encouraging Miss Nightingale to become a nurse. $1.75
=JOAN OF ARC=
The stirring life and pathetic death of Domremy’s girlish heroine, who once saved France and today inspires it. $2.00
=ELIZABETH FRY=
The true story of Elizabeth Fry, the famous Quakeress, who through extraordinary zeal revolutionized the English prison system and was known as the “Angel of the Prisons.” $1.75
ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES
A biography of the interesting and active wife of John Adams, based upon her own diaries and letters and contemporary records, and told in Mrs. Richard’s delightful style. $2.00
=LAURA BRIDGMAN=
The famous American woman who though stricken blind and deaf led such a wonderfully rich and helpful life is the subject of this biography. $2.00
=SAMUEL GRIDLEY HOWE=
Mrs. Richards is especially qualified to write the biography of her distinguished father. Woven into the biography is the account of the many friendships Dr. Howe formed through his amazing personality and his work. As a picture of a great man and his times, her book is warm, glowing and human. Illustrated. $2.50
=QUICKSILVER SUE=
A charmingly told story for girls of impetuous, lovable Sue and steady Mary. $1.50
=MERRY-GO-ROUND=
A delightful collection of rhymes, jingles, nonsense poems, and light and amusing narrative bits by the supreme American exponent in this field of verse for children. Illustrated, $1.50
=HARRY IN ENGLAND: Being the Partly-True Adventures of H. R. in the Year 1857.=
A charming tale of a little American boy’s adventures during a visit to England. Delightfully illustrated by Reginald Birch. $1.50
=New York= =D. Appleton-Century Company= =London=
_Books by Laura E. Richards._
“Mrs. Richards has made for herself a little niche apart in the literary world, from her delicate treatment of New England village life.”—_Boston Post._
“=SOME SAY=,” and a companion story, “=NEIGHBOURS IN CYRUS=.” 16mo, 50 cents.
=JIM OF HELLAS=; or, =IN DURANCE VILE=, and a companion story, =BETHESDA POOL=. 16mo, 50 cents.
=MARIE.= 16mo, 50 cents.
“Seldom has Mrs. Richards drawn a more irresistible picture, or framed one with more artistic literary adjustment.”—_Boston Herald._
“A perfect literary gem.”—_Boston Transcript._
=NARCISSA=, and a companion story, =IN VERONA=. 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.
“Each is a simple, touching, sweet little story of rustic New England life, full of vivid pictures of interesting character, and refreshing for its unaffected genuineness and human feeling.”—_Congregationalist._
“They are the most charming stories ever written of American country life.”—_New York World._
=MELODY.= The story of a Child. 16mo, 50 cents.
“Had there never been a ‘Captain January,’ ‘Melody’ would easily take first place.”—_Boston Times._
“The quaintly pretty, touching, old-fashioned story is told with perfect grace; the few persons who belong to it are touched in with distinctness and with sympathy.”—_Milwaukee Sentinel._
=SAME.= _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.
=CAPTAIN JANUARY.= 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.
A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose success has been very remarkable. One reads it, is thoroughly charmed by it, tells others, and so its fame has been heralded by its readers, until to-day it is selling by the thousands, constantly enlarging the circle of its delighted admirers.
=SAME.= _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.
=WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.= 4to, cloth, gilt top, $1.25.
The title most happily introduces the reader to the charming home-life of Dr. Howe and Mrs. Julia Ward Howe during the childhood of the author.
=GLIMPSES OF THE FRENCH COURT.= Sketches from French History. Illustrated with a series of portraits in etching and photogravure. Square 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
With true literary touch, she gives us the story of some of the salient figures of this remarkable period.
=ISLA HERON.= A charming prose idyl of quaint New England life. Small quarto, cloth, 75 cents.
=NAUTILUS.= A very interesting story, with illustrations; uniquely bound, small quarto, cloth, 75 cents.
=FIVE MINUTE STORIES.= A charming collection of short stories and clever poems for children.
_Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston._
FIVE MINUTE STORIES
BY LAURA E. RICHARDS AUTHOR OF “CAPTAIN JANUARY,” “MELODY,” “NARCISSA,” “MARIE,” “NAUTILUS,” ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY A. R. WHEELAN, E. B. BARRY AND OTHERS.
BOSTON ESTES AND LAURIAT PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1891, 1892, 1893, 1894, 1895_, BY THE CENTURY CO. _Copyright, 1895._ BY ESTES AND LAURIAT
Colonial Press: C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, Mass., U.S.A.
TO JOHN AND BETTY
CONTENTS.
PAGE Dedication vii Betty 15 Two Calls 16 A New Year Song 19 New Year 20 A Lesson Song 24 The Rubber Baby 26 The Red, White and Blue 28 Totty’s Christmas 29 A Certain Boy 32 The New Sister 33 Buttercup Gold 35 One Afternoon 42 The Stove 43 John’s Sister 44 New Year Song 45 What Was Her Name 46 A Lesson Song 49 The Patient Cat 52 Mathematics 53 By the Fading Light 55 Tobogganing Song 58 Song of the Tilt 59 The Lazy Robin 60 The Boy’s Manners 62 Merry Christmas 66 Rinktum 67 In the Tunnel 69 Practising Song 71 Queen Elizabeth’s Dance 72 A Storming Party 74 At the Little Boy’s Home 75 Then and Now 76 Pleasant Walk 78 A Great Day 80 A Pastoral 82 Riches 84 Poverty 85 The Best of All 87 A Study Hour 89 The Young Ladies 90 The Weathercock 92 Ichthyology 93 A Happy Morning 98 Lilies and Cat-Tails 99 The Metals 104 The Howlery Growlery Room 109 The Speckled Hen 113 The Money Shop 116 A Long Afternoon 121 The Jacket 122 The Fireworks 124 Jingle 126 See-Saw 127 Nancy’s Nightmare 129 Amy’s Valentine 131 Once Upon a Time 133 The Pathetic Ballad of Clarinthia Jane Louisa 134 A Day in the Country 135 Goosey Lucy 136 Goosey Lucy’s New Year’s Calls 139 Three Little Birds 142 The Quacky Duck 143 New Year Thoughts 144 Nonsense 145 The Singular Chicken 147 The Clever Parson 148 The Purple Fish 155 Mr. Somebody 157 A Christmas Ride 159 A Funny Fellow 161 Woffsky-Poffsky 162 April and the Children 163 The Snowball 165 A Great Fight 168 Hallelujah! 171 Lullaby 172 Merry Christmas 173 The Little Dog with the Green Tail 175 Naughty 180 Hard Times 180 On the Steeple 183 Naughty Billy 184 A Lad 184 Saint Valentine’s House 185 The Gentleman 187 A Leap Year Boy 190 King Pippin 193 The Story of the Crimson Crab 194 Mother’s Riddle 196 King John 197 The Spotty Cow 198 The Button Pie 199 The Inquisitive Ducks 200 Queen Matilda 202 The Two-Shoes Chair 203 Ethelred the Unready 205 Poor Bonny 205 The Husking of the Corn 209 The Clever Cheese-Maker 211 The Spelling Lesson 214 The Person who Did Not Like Cats 216
FIVE MINUTE STORIES.
BETTY.
WHEN I sit and hold her little hand, My Betty, Then all the little troubles seem to shrink, Grow small and petty. It does not matter any more That ink is spilt on parlor floor, That gown is caught upon the latch, And not the smallest bit to match, That cook is going, housemaid gone, And coming guests to meet alone; It matters not at all, you see, For I have Betty, and Betty has me.
When I sit and hold her little hand, My Betty, Then all the simple, foolish baby talk Grows wise and witty. I’m glad to know that Pussy Mow Was frightened at the wooden cow, I weep for Dolly’s broken head, And for the sawdust she has shed; I take with joy the cups of tea From wooden teapot poured for me, And all goes well, because, you see, I play with Betty, and Betty with me.
When I walk and hold her little hand, My Betty, Then every humble weed beside the way Grows proud and pretty. The clover never was so red, Their purest white the daisies spread, The buttercups begin to dance, The reeds salute with lifted lance, The very tallest trees we pass Bend down to greet my little lass; And these things make my joy, you see, For I love Betty, and Betty loves me!
TWO CALLS.
BEAU PHILIP and Beau Bobby stood side by side on the doorstep of their father’s house. They were brothers, though you would hardly have thought it, for one was very big and one was very little.
Beau Philip was tall and slender, with handsome dark eyes, and a silky brown moustache which he was fond of curling at the ends. He wore a well-fitting overcoat, and a tall hat and pearl-gray kid gloves.
Beau Bobby was short and chubby, and ten years old, with blue eyes and yellow curls (not long ones, but funny little croppy locks that _would_ curl, no matter how short he kept them). He wore a pea-jacket, and red leggings and red mittens.
There was one thing, however, about the two brothers that was just the same. Each carried in his hand a great red rose, lovely and fragrant, with crimson leaves and a golden heart.
“Where are you going with your rose, Beau Bobby?” asked Beau Philip.
“I am going to make a New Year’s call,” replied Beau Bobby.
“So am I,” said Beau Philip, laughing. “We may meet again. Good-by, little Beau!”
“Good-by, big Beau!” said Bobby, seriously, and they walked off in different directions.
Beau Philip went to call on a beautiful young lady, to whom he wished to give his rose; but so many other people were calling on her at the same time that he could only say “good-morning!” to her, and then stand in a corner, pulling his moustache and wishing that the others would go. There were so many roses in the room, bowls and vases and jars of them, that he thought she would not care for his single blossom, so he put it in his buttonhole; but it gave him no pleasure whatever.
Beau Bobby trotted away on his short legs till he came to a poor street, full of tumble-down cottages.
He stopped before one of them and knocked at the door. It was opened by a motherly looking Irish woman, who looked as if she had just left the washtub, as, indeed, she had.
“Save us!” she cried, “is it yersilf, Master Bobby? Come in, me jewel, and warm yersilf by the fire! It’s mortal cowld the day.”
“Oh, I’m not cold, thank you!” said Bobby. “But I will come in. Would you—would you like a rose, Mrs. Flanagan? I have brought this rose for you. And I wish you a Happy New Year. And thank you for washing my shirts so nicely.”
This was a long speech for Beau Bobby, who was apt to be rather silent; but it had a wonderful effect on Mrs. Flanagan. She grew very red as she took the rose, and the tears came into her eyes.
“Ye little angil!” she said, wiping her eyes with her apron. “Look at the lovely rose! For me, is it? And who sint ye wid it, honey?”
“Nobody!” said Bobby. “I brought it myself. It was my rose. You see,” he said, drawing his stool up to the little stove, “I heard you say, yesterday, Mrs. Flanagan, when you brought my shirts home, that you had never had a New Year’s call in your life; so I thought I would make you one to-day, you see. Happy New Year!”
“Happy New Year to yersilf, me sweet jewel!” cried good Mrs. Flanagan. “And blessings go wid every day of it, for your kind heart and your sweet face. I had a sore spot in my heart this day, Master Bobby, bein’ so far from my own people; but it’s you have taken it away this minute, wid yer sweet rose and yer bright smile. See now, till I put it in my best chiny taypot. Ain’t that lovely, now?”
“Isn’t it!” cried Beau Bobby. “And it makes the whole room sweet. I am enjoying my call _very_ much, Mrs. Flanagan; aren’t you?”
“That I am!” said Mrs. Flanagan. “With all my heart!”
A NEW YEAR SONG.
When the year is new, my dear, When the year is new, Let us make a promise here, Little I and you, Not to fall a-quarrelling Over every tiny thing, But sing and smile, smile and sing, All the glad year through.
As the year goes by, my dear, As the year goes by, Let us keep our sky swept clear, Little you and I. Sweep up every cloudy scowl, Every little thunder-growl, And live and laugh, laugh and live, ’Neath a cloudless sky.
When the year is old, my dear, When the year is old, Let us never doubt or fear, Though the days grow cold. Loving thoughts are always warm; Merry hearts know ne’er a storm. Come ice and snow, so love’s dear glow Turn all our gray to gold.
NEW YEAR.
THE little sweet Child tied on her hood, and put on her warm cloak and mittens. “I am going to the wood,” she said, “to tell the creatures all about it. They cannot understand about Christmas, mamma says, and of course she knows, but I do think they ought to know about New Year!”
Out in the wood the snow lay light and powdery on the branches, but under foot it made a firm, smooth floor, over which the Child could walk lightly without sinking in. She saw other footprints beside her own, tiny bird-tracks, little hopping marks, which showed where a rabbit had taken his way, traces of mice and squirrels and other little wild-wood beasts.
The Child stood under a great hemlock-tree, and looked up toward the clear blue sky, which shone far away beyond the dark tree-tops. She spread her hands abroad and called, “Happy New Year! Happy New Year to everybody in the wood, and all over the world!”
A rustling was heard in the hemlock branches, and a striped squirrel peeped down at her. “What do you mean by that, little Child?” he asked. And then from all around came other squirrels, came little field-mice, and hares swiftly leaping, and all the winter birds, titmouse and snow-bird, and many another; and they all wanted to know what the Child meant by her greeting, for they had never heard the words before.
“It means that God is giving us another year!” said the Child. “Four more seasons, each lovelier than the last, just as it was last year. Flowers will bud, and then they will blossom, and then the fruit will hang all red and golden on the branches, for birds and men and little children to eat.” “And squirrels, too!” cried the chipmunk, eagerly.
“Of course!” said the Child. “Squirrels, too, and every creature that lives in the good green wood. And this is not all! We can do over again the things that we tried to do last year, and perhaps failed in doing. We have another chance to be good and kind, to do little loving things that help, and to cure ourselves of doing naughty things. Our hearts can have lovely new seasons, like the flowers and trees and all the sweet things that grow and bear leaves and fruit. I thought I would come and tell you all this, because sometimes one does not think of things till one hears them from another’s lips. Are you glad I came? If you are glad, say Happy New Year! each in his own way! I say it to you all now in my way. Happy New Year! Happy New Year!”
Such a noise as broke out then had never been heard in the wood since the oldest hemlock was a baby, and that was a long time ago. Chirping, twittering, squeaking, chattering! The wood-doves lit on the Child’s shoulder and cooed in her ear, and she knew just what they said. The squirrels made a long speech, and meant every word of it, which is more than people always do; the field-mouse said that she was going to turn over a new leaf, the very biggest cabbage-leaf she could find; while the titmouse invited the whole company to dine with him, a thing he had never done in his life before.
When the Child turned to leave the wood, the joyful chorus followed her, and she went, smiling, home and told her mother all about it. “And, mother,” she said, “I should not be surprised if they had got a little bit of Christmas, after all, along with their New Year!”
A LESSON SONG.
ORANGES and apples, And baby’s ball, are round; And my pretty picture-book, That is square, I’ve found; And an egg is oval, And the corners all, When you take them by themselves, Triangles they call.
I am perpendicular When I stand up straight, I am horizontal When in bed I wait; And from sitting quite erect, If I chance to swerve, Then my rounded shoulders make What is called a curve.
See! a sheet of paper I roll together neat, Straight and smooth, and then I have A cylinder complete; But if thus I widen out Either end alone, Look! it makes a different thing,— That is called a cone.
Points there are, a many, On my pencil one, Two on mother’s scissors, Five a star has on; And our doggie has one Right upon his nose, And my dancing-master says, “Children, point your toes!”
Oh! the world of wonders Is so very full, How can little children learn Half enough in school? I must look about me Everywhere I go, Keep my eyes awake and wise, There’s such a lot to know.
THE RUBBER BABY.
THE ascent of the Rubber Baby took place in the back yard on the afternoon of last Fourth of July. It was an occasion of great interest.
We were all in the yard,—Mamma, Papa, Tubby, Toots, Posy, Bunny, Bay and Mr. Bagabave. (This boy has another name, but he prefers Mr. Bagabave because he made it himself.)
There was also the best cousin, who is nine feet tall, more or less, and a kind gentleman who was a friend of the best cousin, and came to see that he did not hurt himself with the firecrackers.
Well, there we all were, and we fired crackers and torpedoes the whole afternoon without stopping. The best cousin and the kind gentleman did it to amuse the children, and the rest of us did it to amuse ourselves.
We had cannon-crackers a foot long; we had double-headers, which papa threw up in the air, oh, ever so far, so that they exploded long before they reached the ground. Then there were dear little crackers, very small and slender, just made for Bay, though it is quite strange that the Chinese people should have known about her, when she is so very young.
Now we fired off single crackers, great and small, with a bang and a bang and a bang-bang; then we put a whole bunch under a barrel, and they went snap, crack, crickety, crackety. Yes, it was delightful.
But Papa, who has lived long and fired many crackers, began to pine for something new, and he said, “Let us have an ascension!”
Then we took counsel, and Mr. Bagabave said, “We will send up the Rubber Baby.” Now the Rubber Baby belonged to Bay, and she loved him; but when Bunny and Mr. Bagabave told her what a fine thing it was to get up in the world, and how many people would like to go up farther than the Rubber Baby would go, Bay consented, and went and brought the Rubber Baby, who smiled and thought little of the matter.
Then Papa brought the biggest cannon-cracker of all, and made a long fuse for it, and set it up in the ground; and over it he put a tomato can, and on the tomato can he set the Rubber Baby.