Chapter 2

The one who had chosen the roadside bank fared no better, for scarcely had she opened her yellow flowers for everyone to see when a donkey came along. "Here's a juicy mouthful!" said he, and he stopped and ate her up--flowers, leaves, and all!

The flower-pot on the window-sill which the third dandelion-child had made her home was taken inside one day, just when her flowers were ready to open.

"I must throw away this nasty weed," said a voice, "before I plant my seeds." Then some little round, black, ugly seeds were laid down carefully, while the dandelion was rooted up and flung away into a back yard down below.

This is a sad story, you see, but it is perfectly true.

The others who had skipped about the meadows grew among long grass now, which nearly choked them, and completely hid them from the sun. And when June came and the hay was cut, they too were cut and crushed before they had had any flowers at all.

But away in a corner, by a hedge--hidden from all eyes and sheltered from cold winds--the dandelion-child who had not wanted to go into the world grew stronger and more beautiful every day. She knew nothing about fine gardens or admiring eyes--and she cared nothing. All she knew was that the sun looked down on her with all his brightness, and that the great blue sky into which she was always gazing was wide enough and fair enough for her.

E.D.

Conceit Bowled Out!

He was a clever cricketer, And very proud of that; Conceitedly one afternoon He took his cricket bat. But when he at the wicket saw His sister with her curls, He turned his nose up so, and said: "I never play with girls!

"They're molly-coddles all," he cried; "They always spoil a match; They cannot field or bowl a bit-- They cannot even catch! However, just this once I'll play!" O, pride had such a fall: You should have heard them shout--a girl Had bowled him out first ball!

C.B.

Laugh at It!

When you hear the merry rain Patter at the window-pane, Think 'twill soon be fine again; So laugh at it!

If you chance to tumble down, Though you bump your little crown, Never cry or pout or frown, Just laugh at it!

When the sum is hard to do, Rub it out and try anew; When you get the answer true You'll laugh at it!

C.B.

The Dancing Academy

This is the way, on a rainy day, We teach our dolls to dance-- The doll in blue, and the Scotchman true, And Lady Belle from France. It's heel and toe and it's to and fro, They all can do it well; But the best of all our pupils small Is darling Lady Belle!

They're very good, but they're only wood, So they have to be shown The step to take and the bow to make-- They cannot dance alone! Quadrille, gavotte, and I don't know what, They soon will clever be! So, dolls who sigh to be dancers, try Our Dolls' Academy!

C.B.

A Visit to the Dale Farm

When Dorothy's and Oliver's father and mother had arranged to go abroad for six weeks, the question arose: "What shall we do with the children?" They had many aunts and uncles who would willingly take care of them, but their mother wanted them to be in the country; so, in the end, it was decided to send them with their nurse to stay at a farm, the mistress of which had once been a nurse to their mother, and who was sure to take good care of them.

There was a great deal of excitement and bustle, but at last all was ready, and the day came for them to say good-bye for a short time to their home. Their ponies had already been sent on, and the terrier Patch was to go with them.

Their mother was going with them, and their father saw them off at the station.

When they arrived at the Dale Farm there was a warm welcome for them. Their mother and her old nurse had a lot to talk about, and then they went into the quaint farm-parlour for tea, and how they all enjoyed the honey and cream and hot scones!

After tea they had to say good-bye to their mother, for she had to be driven back to the station.

The following morning the children were wakened by the crowing of the cocks and the cackling of the hens and other noises unfamiliar to them. After breakfast, they went on a tour of inspection round the farm places. They also went to greet their ponies, who seemed quite rejoiced to hear their voices in this strange land. Then they went to see Mrs. Farmer feed her poultry; and what a noise there was among the turkeys, and geese, and ducks, and hens!--all so hungry for breakfast, and all pushing round without the slightest regard for good manners. After them there were the calves to feed. Six long-legged shaky little things--they wondered they could ever grow into anything to be afraid of. Before they had half finished looking round nurse called them to get ready for their ride.

Everything was different from what it was at home, for they were to take their rides without a groom, and across the common, a big place covered with short crisp grass, with occasional clumps of rushes and thistles; and here they could canter, or gallop, or race without fear of harm.

People and animals seemed to do as they liked on the common. Donkeys browsed sleepily, and when the children came near lifted their heads as if to say: "Who are these strangers? They're not donkeys, so what do they want on our ground?"

Then there were a lot of geese there. Patch thought he would have a bit of fun with the geese one day, so he set off to chase them. There was a great fluster and spreading of wings, and they waddled off a few yards; then they turned suddenly and faced him, stretching out their long necks and hissing, at which Patch turned tail and troubled them no more.

The village children on their way to and from school would linger on the common to chase butterflies or run races. Then the boys found it a capital place for playing at soldiers and leap-frog, and other things.

As it was June the farm people were busy in the hay, so of course Dorothy and Oliver helped. They raked and tossed and gathered it into heaps, and then they grew dreadfully hungry, so they sat under the hedge and ate _bread and cheese_, which they found was quite the correct lunch for haymakers. Patch sat with them and was having his share, when he suddenly began sniffing and snorting and scratching round a haycock. They thought there must be a rat about, but when they moved the hay they found a poor little creature with a brown plush coat and _no eyes_! Nurse told them it was a mole, so they put it in a box lined with cotton-wool and gave it lettuce to eat, but it only lived four days. I don't think it would like the most luxurious nest as well as a little hole in the ground.

It would take a long time to tell you about all the children saw and did during their visit to the Dale Farm: how they rode on the hay, then came jogging back in the empty cart for more; how they drove with the farmer in his spring-cart, which was not so very springy; how they learned to milk, and quite got over their fear of cows. Altogether they had such a delightful time that they hope they may go again next year.

When the letter came to say the ship had arrived bringing back their father and mother they were of course delighted, but they were quite sorry to have to say good-bye to all their farm friends, animals as well as people.

So the children went back to their city home, and when their father and mother heard all their accounts of the good time they had had, and saw their tanned and rosy cheeks, they said: "O, you must go again next year."

_Ellyn Hall._

The Worst Pupil

When Betty kept a school one day, Her sister was so good; The dollies every one behaved As well-taught dollies should;

But Tom was such a noisy boy She had to get the cane; The very sight gave him a fright And made him good again!

C.B.

The Tea Party

Little Miss Betty has had a tea-party, Everyone came with an appetite hearty; Animals, dollies, and toys were invited; Bobby was good and our Baby delighted. Of cake, bread-and-butter, and milk they had plenty-- The cups were so tiny that Bobby drank twenty; And when it was over they ran and asked mother If they might to-morrow have just such another!--C.B.

A Scratch Team.

"That's a wide!" said Tom, as the ball went rolling by about a yard from the stump. "Throw it up, Maggie. Now, Hugh, try again!"

It was a very young and inexperienced team that Tom Gardner was instructing. Tom was staying with his Aunt Gertrude, and had been complaining to her that he had no one whom he could play cricket with.

"Why don't you play with the children?" asked his aunt at last.

"Play with the kids?" gasped Tom. "Why, auntie, they are all girls except Hugh, and he not even in knickerbockers! And they don't know how!"

"Well, can't you teach them?" his aunt asked. Tom looked at her with some surprise. He was very fond of her and would do much to please her, but this seemed rather unreasonable.

"I--I have only a bat," he murmured? "there aren't any stumps!"

"O, I'll soon make you some stumps," said the lady briskly. "Come out into the garden and I'll soon get them."

She was as good as her word. In a few minutes she had found three sticks, pointed the ends with her pocket-knife, and driven them in with the gardener's mallet on the lower lawn. A flower-pot was placed on the centre stick. Then she produced a ball from her pocket.

"Now," she said, "you have everything you will want, and I leave you to teach your scratch team."

Tom laughed. The phrase "your scratch team" pleased him. His aunt's energy had infected him, and he began to marshal his forces.

"Now, look here, girls," he said; "Maggie, you're wicket-keeper, and Fan and Kitty must field, and Hugh shall bowl."

But Hugh proved such an indifferent bowler that even the girls began to clamour.

"Let me twy, Cousin Tom," cried Maggie; "I can frow better than Hugh!"

"You frow!" laughed Tom; "why, you can't speak properly yet!"

"Let me twy," said Maggie; "I don't bowl with my tongue!"

So Maggie tried, and the game began to get exciting.

Maggie couldn't say her "r's," but she could certainly throw a ball very straight, and Tom had to play his best.

He began to hit the ball about the lawn, so that the little fielders grew hot and out of breath. At last one vigorous toss absolutely hit the wicket and sent the stumps and the flower-pot sprawling.

"I have knocked him out," cried Maggie, jumping about in her glee. "I am going to bat the ball now!"

But at that moment a voice was heard calling: "Come in to tea, children!"

"It can't be tea-time yet, surely!" said Tom, quite astonished at the quick flight of time.

So the scratch team had not played so badly after all, and during Tom's stay with his aunt they had many a game together and always thoroughly enjoyed it.

_M.A. Hoyer._

Roddy's Victory

It was Saturday--a summer Saturday; the sun shone down upon the meads and pastures round Clover Farm so radiantly that every face felt bound to smile brightly in return. Every face but one, and that belonged to Roddy Lester, the eldest of the farmer's four.

"What ails my boy this fine sunshiny morning?" called out mother from the cool, sweet dimness of the dairy, where she was at work.

Roddy did not answer. He was standing in the ivy-encircled doorway of the dairy, his hands deep in his pockets, his feet shuffling to and fro, and on his face a dark, angry cloud.

"Come, Roddy, tell mother the trouble. Is it anything to do with school? Is there a punishment preparation to be done this morning?"

"No; there isn't!" Roddy roused himself at such a suspicion. "Why, mother, I told you I was moved up yesterday; don't you remember? But I'll come inside and tell you all about it."

"No! Tell me from outside all about it."

"Well, then, mother, I don't _want_ to take the children to the meads. I want to amuse myself. And it's not fair. Saturday's a holiday, and it's my right to have it!" sullenly said Roddy.

"Your right! Perhaps so, dear! But sometimes it is our privilege to yield our rights!" quietly said mother, taking her eyes for a second off the yellowing cream to glance at the boy's gloomy face. "Who told you to take the children to the meads--father?" she asked.

"Yes, it was. He said I was to take them to the cowslip meads, and not to stir from there until he came back from market."

"And what is it you want to do instead?"

"I want to go with my net down to Butterfly Corner. There will be heaps of butterflies out this sunny day. And the other boys at school are all collecting: they have more than I have, all of them. I have only a tortoiseshell and a brimstone. O, it's a regular shame of father!"

"Hush, dear, hush! Nothing that your kind, good father says or does can be called a shame. But I believe I can guess why he gave those orders. He knew that this is an over-busy day for me, and also that I have one of my bad headaches." Certainly mother's face gleamed out white from the dairy shadows. "And as this is market-day at Hamley Town he and old Michael would be away until dinner-time. So, you see, sonny, he has left _you_ in charge. You are in father's place this morning to guard the farm and us all, particularly the tinies. Don't you see what an honour it is to be trusted thus?"

Something stirred in Roddy's heart at his mother's words. The best part of him suddenly came uppermost. He walked quietly away, followed by Fuzzy sniffing at his heels. And, somehow, the boy felt an inch taller as he looked round the farm. After all, what were the butterflies compared with the tinies left in his charge? "Hip, hip, hooray!" Roddy straightened himself and cheered. He had won a victory--over himself.

"Hi, Nettie! Hi, Dumps! Come along! And where's Baby? We're going to the meads, and I'll make you a fine cowslip ball to shoot the rooks with!" he shouted, and Fuzzy barked madly round as the tinies flocked out.

When they got there, what with the sun and the wind, the making of the huge cowslip ball and the little ones' joy over it, Roddy's face cleared up and was as sunshiny as the weather itself. There's nothing like giving up your own will for making the heart sing.

By-and-by, when dinner-time came, so did father. As the dog-cart drove along the high-road, Roddy and Nettie puzzled over its appearance.

"It's got a new wheel at the back, Roddy!"

But Roddy's eyes widened into a fixed stare, and his face grew very red.

"Well, boy, here you are at your post. Now I'll tell you why I wanted you to stay at home this morning. It was for this surprise. Look, my lad! For weeks back I've been in treaty for this bicycle for you. To-day I was able to close with the bargain, and it's yours!"

For a few seconds Roddy could not see: his eyes were dimmed. The good, kind father had been planning out his boy's pleasure! "O, father!" he gasped; then, "O, mother!"

"Such a beauty!" delightedly said mother.

"It's a good one; I don't know the name," father was beginning.

"I do!" put in mother. "It is the 'Victory'--Roddy's Victory!"

_M.B. Manwell._

Was It a Dream?

Rita grew quite tired of gathering wildflowers while her brother Frank sat by the water busy with his fishing-rod.

"He _must_ be tired of it by this time! He has been fishing for two hours!" she said, and, swinging her bunch of flowers, she walked to where her brother was sitting.

"_Do_ leave off fishing for a while, Frank!" she pleaded, leaning against the tree beside him. "There is such a funny-looking animal running about over there in the grass. Come and look!"

Frank laughed.

"I know your funny-looking animals, Rita!" he said.

"Aren't you really tired of sitting quite still?" went on Rita wonderingly.

"I don't think about it," answered her brother. "I want to catch the fish, and to do that I must sit still."

Rita knew she must be contented to wait, so she walked a little way from him and threw herself down upon the bank.

As she lay looking into the water she suddenly felt herself grow very sleepy. A little while after, the water began to get so clear that she could see right through it. It grew more and more so until it became just like glass. Rita could see the very bottom of the pond and the fish swimming quickly backwards and forwards.

Then she heard some very funny little voices coming up from the water. This made her look closer, and she soon discovered a small group of fishes who seemed to be speaking very eagerly together. She saw they were gathered round Frank's line, on the end of which hung a tempting piece of bait.

"I tell you, my son," Rita heard the largest fish say to one of the smaller ones, "that is a trap. I have seen hundreds of poor fishes try to swallow that worm, and they have been pulled up out of the water and I have never seen them any more!"

"But, mother!" cried the smaller fish, "if I only had just one bite! Look what a beauty it is! I am sure there can be nothing to harm me!"

"Inside that worm," continued, the big fish, "there is a hook which will catch into your gills, and you will not be able to get away. Then the man at the top will pull you up and up, and you will be killed and eaten by him!"

Still the little fish looked longingly at the bait. Rita wanted to call out and tell him what his mother said was quite true; but somehow her voice refused to come.

The other fishes who were gathered round listening did not say anything, but Rita saw that some of the smaller ones looked at the worm just as longingly as the little one who had spoken.

For a few minutes there was silence in the water; then all at once, at a moment when it thought its mother was looking the other way, the little fish made a dart forward and tried to swallow the bait. The next moment it was wriggling about in a most pitiable manner and giving faint little cries for help. Its mother swam towards it in great distress.

"Come and help!" she called, in a trembling voice.

All the other fishes surrounded the line, and some caught hold of the little fish's tail and held on.

Just as Rita was getting very excited indeed she gave a great start and jumped up from the bank.

"What was that?" she exclaimed aloud.

"Why, I've got a splendid catch. It must be a monster! The line is so heavy I can hardly pull it in!"

It was Frank's voice. Rita suddenly remembered where she was and that she must have fallen asleep. She walked slowly to Frank, thinking about her strange dream.

She had only stood by him a minute when--splash!--out flew the line from the water and over went Frank on his back.

It was so funny that Rita could not help laughing heartily--especially as Frank was not at all hurt.

"It's all very well for you to laugh!" he said, when he had got up again; "but that was the best catch I've ever had, and the wretched fish must have got off the hook!"

Rita grew very thoughtful. Could her dream have been true? It really did seem strange. Anyway, although she felt sorry for Frank, she could not help feeling very pleased that the poor little fish had got free!

_Edith Robarts._

Merry Folk.

Merry folk tiny, merry folk tall, Happy as can be, here they are all, Spending the holidays 'midst the flowers, Laughing away the joyous hours!

Merry folk sunny, merry folk sweet, Pleasant to look at, happy to meet, Nothing but smiling, never a sigh, They are so glad to be here, that's why!

Merry girls dancing under the trees, With their curls floating out on the breeze, Merry boys playing all the day through, Here you will find them waiting for you.

Why are they merry? I'll tell you why: They know you will see them by-and-by; They know that you all are going to look At them in this merry picture-book.

Auntie's Tea-Tray.

"Auntie dear, will you buy Molly and me a toboggan? There's such a lovely slide on Heath Hill, and Toddy Graham and the Earles have toboggans, and we want one too."

Auntie looked up from her sewing and shook her head. "No, my dears, I can't. Run out and play with your hoops instead," she said, and then she went on with her work.

Charlie _was_ angry. "I'm ever so much bigger than Toddy Graham," he said indignantly, "and his mother lets him have a toboggan. It's a shame! But never mind, Molly; we'll go all the same. I've got an idea. You go to the hill and I'll come presently."

Molly trotted away, and in a minute or two Charlie came running towards her, carrying his auntie's best tea-tray. "I had an awful bother to get it," he said. "Jane saw me with the old one and took it away; but I remembered this one was upstairs in auntie's room, so I fetched it without anyone seeing me."

"But what's the good of a tea-tray?" asked Molly.

"Toboggan, you silly; come along," Charlie answered shortly; and in another minute the two children were spinning away down the hill.

The first journey was most successful, but on the second. Charlie forgot that a tea-tray requires careful management and good steering, and half-way down the hill he came into collision with Toddy Graham.

Over went the tray, smash came Toddy's toboggan right on the top of it, and all three' children were shot out into the snow. Toddy and Charlie picked themselves up, but Molly lay without moving.

"She's dead, Toddy Graham. O, what shall I do?" wailed poor frightened Charlie.

"You'd better fetch your aunt," suggested practical Toddy; and Charlie rushed off as fast as his fat legs could carry him.

When auntie arrived upon the scene, she found her small niece sitting up, howling vigorously, and rubbing a very big bump on her forehead. There was no great harm done--at least, as far as the children were concerned, but the best tea-tray was battered and scratched beyond recognition.

"Really, auntie did behave like a brick," said Charlie, and when they opened their money-boxes and, putting all their pennies and sixpences together, bought her a new tea-tray, she declared it was ever so much better than the one they had spoilt.

And what do you think happened when Christmas Day came? Why, auntie gave them the jolliest toboggan you ever saw, and the children found out that she had meant to do so all along, and that was why she had refused to give them one when they first asked for it. Wasn't she a nice aunt?

_L.L. Weedon._