Part 1

LEAVES

FOR A

CHRISTMAS BOUGH.

Love, Truth, and Hope.

BOSTON:

WM. CROSBY & H. P. NICHOLS,

111 WASHINGTON STREET.

NEW YORK: CHARLES B. NORTON, 71 CHAMBERS STREET.

1849.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by WILLIAM CROSBY & H. P. NICHOLS, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

COOLIDGE AND WILEY, PRINTERS, 12 WATER ST., BOSTON.

PREFACE.

Recollections of the many pleasant hours passed with a certain juvenile circle, not fifty miles from Boston, and associations connected with this joyous season, have induced the feeble effort of collecting a few stray leaves for its amusement. Hoping that their many defects, arising from a hasty preparation amid various cares and occupations, may be kindly pardoned, they are presented as a trifling Gift for the Holidays.

To that group, bound together by a mutual sympathy in each other's joys and fleeting sorrows, it may not be uninteresting to recall the days of "Auld Lang Syne." The scene will be a chequered one, for amid the frolic and sunshine, some tears will have been shed; while with hours of hard and thoughtful study, the bitterness of failure will sometimes appear.

But the bright and beautiful so far prevail over the rest, that such only need be recalled; and while enjoying those sweet remembrances, let us be merry and glad together. With truth and goodness as our constant aim, let us strive to make daily progress in the school of life, and though we may be separated on Earth, we may hope for a blissful reunion in Heaven.

CONTENTS.

Preface, 5

A Letter from Santa Claus, 9

Rigolette, 14

A Story for Minna, 19

A Story for Nellie and Molly, 21

The School-Teacher's Song, 24

Letter from the West, 26

A Sketch for the Members of the "Sunbeam Society," 31

Scraps about Dogs, 34

A Letter from a little Girl to a Sick School-mate, 39

Who is my Neighbour? 46

A Few Rhymes for Dan, 51

A Story for Little Emma, 53

A Story told under the Great Elm Tree, 55

A Letter, 60

A Conversation on Fairs, 65

A True Sketch for the Two Sisters, 68

Scraps from a Journal, picked up in a gale of Wind, 71

An Incident, 76

A Story for Willie, 78

A Letter, 81

A Parody on the Mower's Song, 87

A Few Rhymes for "Charlie Boy," 89

A Story for Lizzie, 91

The German Musicians, 94

Letter from a Little Girl to an Absent School-mate, 102

An Account of a Sea-Shore Visit, 107

A Tribute to the Memory of a Sunday-School Scholar, 113

A Simple Story for Georgy, 118

A Story for Sweet Little Fanny, 121

Sketches from a Fireside Journal, 124

Unda, or the Fountain Fairy, 128

Leaves for a Christmas Bough.

A LETTER FROM SANTA CLAUS,

FOR CHRISTMAS, 1849.

MY DEAR CHILDREN:

As I have always been in the habit of meeting with you on this Anniversary, and as I cannot expect to see you all together this year, for the sake of old times I am going to write you a letter. Perhaps you are not aware that I have been a silent spectator of your daily occupations, but so it is.

I generally take a nap from one year to another, so after our glorious celebration at the "Bee-Hive," I packed myself away in the stove-pipe for that purpose; but the hum of merry voices kept me awake, and thus I lay and listened to what was going on. The fairies, in whom you perhaps all believe, have also been quite numerous in your vicinity, and from my relationship to them, I have often heard of your excursions over hill and dale, and the many gay times you have enjoyed together.

I travel over many regions at this season of the year, and in order to accomplish all I wish, in my endeavors to please the young folks, I shall begin my preparations a little earlier than usual, so you need not wonder if I visit some of you a little before Christmas and New Year, with one of my gifts. This will consist of a few of the simplest little sketches, letters, and reminiscenses of the various occurrences in which you have participated, and I hope the contents of this "Christmas Bough" will give you as much satisfaction as those of by-gone seasons, when the festive pine-tree erected to my honor has been loaded with gay and glittering gifts.

I trust you will all enjoy the holiday, and with glad and grateful hearts fully appreciate the many privileges you enjoy, as the children of kind parents, and the objects of interest to affectionate friends. Of course you will be most forcibly reminded of the Giver of all these blessings, and you will love to listen about the "gentle child Jesus," in honor of whose birth the day is celebrated.

By looking back upon the past year, you can see what steps you have taken in self-improvement, what you have learned, what left unlearned; and the retrospect will help you to form new plans for the future, which now rises bright and beautifully before you. One little girl will have the satisfaction of having almost conquered a peevish temper, which made her very disagreeable; another will have acquired habits of neatness and order, so necessary to comfort and enjoyment.

This scholar will have an increase of memory, and thus avoid the repetition of that troublesome phrase, "Oh, I forgot;" and that one will become more thoughtful, and will not consider the excuse, "I didn't think," sufficient to cover her frequent blunders. A nice, hearty little fellow that I know will have learned to read fluently, and to love his books for the sake of all the good and pleasant things he can find in them; while another rogue will be kind and gentle to his sisters, and give up the naughty habit of teasing his companions. The proud child will learn her true value, and not think herself better than her mates, on account of her pretty face, fine clothes, or handsome residence; while best of all these changes, the cowardly and deceitful will be ever brave and truthful, finding that honesty is the greatest safeguard, and truthfulness a shield from many temptations.

All foolish quarrels will be forgotten, and the spirit of love and good will pervade all their actions, as the children resolve to aid their kind parents in family cares, the brother and sister mutually assisting each other, and with cheerful, bright faces make a perpetual sunshine at home. In this delightful progress, the claims of those who have always served you as devoted domestics, will not be forgotten; and by your thoughtfulness, you can thus atone for many an unkind word or heedless exaction on your part.

As children of benevolent parents, you will help to bestow gifts upon the poor and needy, and nothing, I know from watching you all, will be more pleasant than this part of the Christmas rejoicings. I shall want to hear from you in answer to this lengthy epistle, for I know you are all used to writing; and be assured I shall ever feel a sincere and hearty interest in your welfare, and whatever may be your position in life, memory will carry me back to the happy days spent in the pretty village of D. And now, as I draw on my seven-leagued boots for other scenes, I will wish you all a "Merry Christmas," and a "Happy New Year."

SANTA CLAUS.

RIGOLETTE.

A little girl, thinking it was very difficult to write compositions, once went to her teacher, and said, "Will you please tell me how to begin? for I do not know what to say first." "How would you begin, if you were to relate the subject to me?" "Oh! it would be very easy to _talk_ it all, but to _write_ it properly is very hard." "Well, my dear, just suppose yourself talking to me, and for once forget the difficulties of a composition, and I have no doubt you will succeed." Pointing to an engraving of Rigolette, she continued, "Go and write a description of that picture, and if you will patiently persevere till it is carefully finished, I will tell you a story about your favorite."

HERE IS THE COMPOSITION.

"There is a young girl sitting by a window, looking at her Canary birds. She seems to be very busy with her work, but she stops sewing for a moment, to listen to the singing of the birds. Her face is very beautiful; her hair is dark and neatly parted on her forehead. Her eyes are brown, perhaps black; her nose straight, her cheeks rosy, and her mouth sweet and smiling. She has a handkerchief tied round her head, and she wears a dark, nice-fitting dress. The furniture in the room is a large old-fashioned table, a high-back chair, and on the window-seat is a pot of pretty flowers. The green blind is drawn up, and in the distance, the top of a church is seen, so I suppose the room is very high. The birds' cage is covered with chick-weed and flowers, and I guess they are very happy and contented. Her hands are white and handsome, but her thimble is blue, and different from any I ever saw, and I should think she was hemming a handkerchief."

As a reward for her ready acquiescence, the following little sketch was written: "Rigolette was a young French girl, in Paris, and earned her livelihood by following the trade of a seamstress. She had been left an orphan at a very early age, but from her joyous, happy temperament, she had acquired her name, which signifies 'The Warbler.' For the people who adopted her, she performed the duties of a faithful daughter, and was ever cheerful, active, and industrious. She was placed in the midst of poor and even wicked people, but her native love of the good and beautiful saved her from contamination."

"As a young girl of twenty, when deprived of her early protectors, she lived by herself, with her two Canaries, 'Ramonette and Papa Crétu,' for her companions; and solaced by their songs, with the native buoyancy of youth and health, she passed a busy, contented life. Though possessing very limited means, she was most charitable, supporting a poor family for a whole winter, and often cheering the sick and lonely. She was proverbial, in all the neighborhood, for her neatness, taste, industry, good humor, and active benevolence. She thus became the friend, the assistant, the confident, and adviser, whenever it was in her power to aid others, and like a sunbeam she gladdened many a dark and gloomy apartment."

"Still, she was used to suffering, and sorrow visited her young heart when her cousin was unjustly thrown into prison. Nobly did she devote herself to him, when deserted by all others, and many were the efforts she made to gain his release."

"Meanwhile she made the acquaintance of a German prince, who, in order to become acquainted with his subjects, travelled through his dominions in disguise. Through his efforts the cousin was released, and made the proprietor of a fine farm. By daily intercourse the good prince became intimately acquainted with the excellent French girl, and fully appreciated her many estimable qualities. By her means the prince's daughter, who had long been lost, was joyfully restored to his affection, and to her proper rank in society."

"Soon after Rigolette was married, and the prince made her a handsome present on her wedding day. A beautiful rose-wood box, containing many tasteful articles of apparel, and various ornaments to adorn her country home, was sent to her with this inscription: "To Industry, Prudence, and Goodness." Her gratitude for all these favors was unbounded, and many kind, affectionate letters passed between them, keeping up a continued interest through life. The example of one such good and cheerful being is a blessing to all around, imparting the purest pleasure, and teaching a valuable lesson to those who come within its genial influence."

A STORY FOR MINNA.

There was once a little mouse, that was kept in a nice little trap, and carefully tended by many good children. It was a great pet, and grew fat and plump every day. It was so tame that it would sit up just like a squirrel, and eat its little dinner without the least fear of those around.

Sometimes it would wash its face like a kitten, and then, after a race round the room, creep back to its wire cage and take a long nap. It had a soft, warm bed of cotton and wool, which it would pull to pieces before it went to sleep, to the great amusement of all the boys and girls, who daily watched its capers.

No mouse ever had a pleasanter time, or greater dainties at its command. It had plenty of cheese and sugar, and though it had no companions, it seemed to play as much as it liked, and to be very happy. On the table near it stood a globe full of gold fishes sailing in the water, and over its head were two yellow Canary birds. What they thought of each other, I can't say; but it was a strange sight to see the beast, birds, and fishes thus brought together.

No cat ever disturbed little mousey's retreat, but alas, one cold winter night, it froze to death! From its fate, if you ever are allowed to keep pet animals, remember to take good care of them, for they are helpless creatures, and dependent upon you for constant watchfulness.

A LITTLE STORY FOR NELLIE AND MOLLY.

Hanging high above the school-room door, there was a little brown leaf, which flew round and round in airy circles, and at last, attracting the notice of certain inquisitive "little folks," was called "the little bird." Upon being swept down from its winter's perch, the following little scrap was found rolled up in its folds.

"To day has been dull and rainy, but I was in an atmosphere full of sunshine, for nice little boys and sweet little girls were near me on one side of the room, and on the other, busy young misses and maidens. The "wee little ones" said a nice lesson from Peabody's Primer, which is a very pretty book, and I could see they were improving very much."

"Then the second class, composed of youngsters about six or seven years old, recited from the Spelling Book, the Geography, the Mental Arithmetic, and then read from a book all about animals, birds, and fishes. They all answered briskly, stood up very straight, turned out their toes, and looked so smiling you would have thought they were playing a very pleasant game."

"Once in a while they could not answer the questions correctly, and then down went a little boy or girl a place lower in the class; but in spite of that they all kept good natured, and were thus saved from getting into more trouble."

"One darling little girl, who had sometimes been tempted to pout and spoil her face by crying, made a great effort to keep calm when she lost the head of the row, and succeeded. 'I didn't cry, did I?' said she, 'and I am determined I never will again.'"

"Then the teacher kissed her beaming face, and the sweet child felt as happy as her teacher, at the consciousness of her great victory, and all her little companions were very glad with her, for they loved each other dearly."

THE SCHOOL TEACHER'S SONG.

A PARODY ON THE VINE DRESSER'S SONG.

Come away girls, to labor, Brightly glows the young day; Come away, every young neighbor, To the school-room away.

The clear echo ringing, Is heard on the lawn, While the school-girl is singing Her joys in the morn.

In the bright glancing school-room, From tree and from stream, O'er each rose-tinted cheek-bloom, How plays the Sun's beam. Come away, &c.

Come, each happy young maiden, Your lesson prepare, With heads freely laden With Learning's sweet fare. Come away, &c.

Then the blithe ones come bounding, Aroused by the call, And their voices resounding Good lessons from all. Come away, &c.

Hark! the scholars now wending, The street-side along, Are cheerily blending Their shouts and their song. Come away, &c.

LETTER FROM THE WEST.

RIVER-SIDE, ST. CHARLES.

My dear Coz:

Here I am settled down at the far West, on a pretty little farm, and enjoying every earthly blessing. I am surrounded by a family of merry children, who frolic round from morn till night, enjoying every moment of the bright sunshine, and never tired of admiring the beauties all around them. Perhaps a description of my pets may amuse you, so with a mother's natural pride, I will draw a picture of their various traits.

My oldest son is a tall, black-eyed boy, and a most gentlemanly little fellow of his age, assisting his father on the farm, and often lending his aid to me in the school-room, when, amid the cares of teaching, I need a monitor. Young as he is, the native energy of his mind makes the smaller ones bend to his will, and they are very fond of him, in spite of his exactions.

Charlie, the second, is very precocious, and astonishes us all, by the readiness with which he acquires every thing, and I look forward to the time when he will be as great a student as his father.

Annie is a fair-haired, gentle lassie, with deep, earnest blue eyes, a most delicate complexion, which, from her great sensitiveness, is the perfect index of her feelings. She is very conscientious, and has never once deceived me. She is fond of her needle, and will be a most efficient help in the cares of the household, as she is ever most happy when quietly seated at my side.

Ada, her sister, is a perfect contrast, with large, black eyes, and a face glowing with health and happiness. She is not at all pretty, but her constant good humor and lively sympathy impart an animated and pleasant expression, as agreeable to us as beauty. With her brothers she is a great favorite, ready for any plan of theirs, and though she is often in mischief, her merry laugh procures a speedy pardon. As I look out of the window, I see the group coming in from the woods, loaded with flowers and mosses, and Ada mounted on the white poney, looking like a gipsey queen surrounded by her subjects.

The two youngest, Arthur and Mabel, are the darlings of all, and are the objects of general pride and attention, particularly the former, who is beginning to show quite a taste for mechanics.

In looking at my children, I am often reminded of our own childish days, when together we roamed in the pleasant village of D., free as birds and careless of aught beside the present. Do you remember those good old times, when, with our teacher, we took such pleasant walks, hunting for wild flowers to press in our herbaliums, and the frolics we had going after berries or nuts?

Then our summer picnics, at Powder Rock, Pine Grove, Vine Rock, Cow Island, Harrison Grove, Table Mount, Job's Island, the Farm, and other favorite spots too numerous to mention. In winter, too, can we ever forget the "Quilting Bee," followed in the evening by the "Candy Scrape"; our famous French class nights, when we performed "Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme;" and last but not least the representation of the "Knapsack?"

With these scenes of pleasure, comes the memory of more serious hours, passed in improving study, and instructive courses of reading. The Examinations, at which we quaked with fear, in the presence of the Committee and the assembled parents. But they generally ended with unalloyed pleasure, as we received our premiums for any progress in our lessons, or any steady effort to acquire good habits. Our attempts at Composition, the subject of so many sighs and groans, and the great stumbling block in our path of learning. I have yet several relics of our mimic Post Office, which helped us more than any thing else in conquering the difficulties of writing.

When my children have been very good, I entertain them with a perusal of my various notes and letters, and nothing pleases them better than selections from my old Journal. I keep up with them the same routine we had at school, making a pleasant walk, or a little gathering of the neighbor's children, the result of a fortnight's earnest attention to books and work, and seldom do I have to banish any of the happy circle. But if laziness, selfishness, or wilful naughtiness of any kind is manifested, the offender is debarred from the anticipated enjoyment.

And now, dear Coz, I shall expect an answer to my lengthy epistle, with a full account of Henry, Emma, Molley, and Dan, of whom my little ones often draw imaginary pictures, believing them to be possessed of every perfection.

Ever Yours, with kisses from all here, I remain,

MARY CRIBBENS.

A SKETCH

_FOR THE MEMBERS OF THE "SUNRISE SOCIETY," AND THOSE WHO HAVE A QUICK EYE CAN BEST JUDGE IF THE OUTLINES RESEMBLE THE ORIGINAL._

In a certain town situated on the banks of the winding Charles, and in the neighborhood of a village church, there is an humble school-house, shaded by magnificent elm trees, the pride of the place. In the interior stand two rows of green desks, flanked by sober-looking chairs, and occupied by scholars of all ages from five to fifteen. In the centre is a venerable stove, which for many years has been the presiding genius of the place, and has retained its stand in the midst of various revolutions. In winter it imparts its generous warmth to roast chestnuts and apples, and in summer it serves as a graceful pedestal for flowers, while its long funnel, raised over the heads of those below, seems like a protecting arm.

On its walls hang various maps, drawings, and pictures, one in particular, the object of their admiration and regard; each having some pleasant association, and all combining to add a pleasant aspect to the room. At the upper end of the apartment, which is used as a dressing-room, library, and play-house, &c., &c., are two great tablets, with the following inscriptions:

"There's not a leaf within the bower, There's not a bird upon the tree, There's not a dew drop on the flower, But bears the impress, Lord of Thee!

God, thou art good! Each perfumed flower, The smiling fields, the dark green wood, The insect fluttering for an hour; All things proclaim that _God is good_."

Near the said stove is a table covered with books and work, scattered round in most elegant confusion, while in the centre stands a beautiful white vase, filled with the sweetest flowers. Near by are "the little ones," making their first attempts at writing and drawing upon the slate, or perhaps sewing upon their many-colored patchwork. In the larger circle may be seen the older sisters and companions industriously plying their needles and pencils, while listening to the reading of some interesting book.

In this circle are various specimens of happy childhood; some being plump and rosy, others pale and thin, some tall and some short, some with black eyes and others with blue or grey, but the countenances of all lit up by the earnest expression of eager interest. With the sunshine playing round their young heads, clustering together, there cannot be a more fascinating picture, or one more worthy of an artist's hand; for what is a more beautiful sight than a group of bright-faced, busy-fingered children?

SCRAPS ABOUT DOGS.