Part 2

````The sparrows would drive us away,

```In the rose by the door cats would eat us, I'm sure;

````Let us build in the apple-tree, pray,

`````Pray, pray,

````Let us build in the apple-tree, pray."

````So away high up in the old apple-tree

`````Mr. Wren built Brownie a nest,

```And't is there she sits now, in the white-blossomed bough,

````With the baby birds under her breast,

`````Breast, breast,

````With the baby birds under her breast.=

--NELLIE M. GARABRANT.

BE GOOD, PAPA.

```Two voices cry, "Be good, papa,

````Don't work too hard to-day!"

```And I turn to see the waving hands

````Of my little Beth and Faye.=

```Two girls of bright and sunny hair,

````Of deep and thoughtful eyes;

```And in their voices, touched with love,

````What tender magic lies!=

````All day, along the crowded street,

````Within the busy town,

````I seem to hear their voices sweet;

`````They chase me up and down.=

````And their dear words of

`````warning love

```Pursue, where'er I

`````go;

```They mean far more,

`````far more to me

```Than those who speak

`````them know.=

```Have I no helping hand to reach

````Out to my brother's need?

```Do I seek my gain by others' loss?

````Am I led to some wrong deed?=

````Do temptations press, within, without?

`````Do wrong impulses urge?

````Of some dishonorable act

`````Stand I upon the verge?=

```Then comes that message, soft and clear,

````From the dear home, miles away.

````"Be good, papa! be good, papa!"

````The childish voices say.=

```There rise before my faltering eyes

````My little Beth and Faye.

```I feel I dare not do the wrong;

````I dare not go astray.=

--FRANK FOXCROFT.

THE SNOW FAMILY.

|It was a very small family, only three; Mr. Snow, Mrs. Snow, and the baby. Mr. Snow did not look like other men. Mamma Snow did not look like your mamma. And their baby was such a funny one!

Where do you think I saw this strange family? It was in our school-yard, last winter. There had been a long snow-storm. Great piles of soft white snow were in the yard. Boys like to play in the snow. They are not afraid of the cold.

Well, my boys made a great snow-man. This they called Mr. Snow. Then they made a lady out of the snow. They called her Mrs. Snow. They said she was Mr. Snow's wife. At last they made a baby out of the snow. The baby stood beside Papa and Mamma Snow.

Then they called me out to see this family. I told them Mr. Snow was very pale for such a large man. One boy said, "Yes; it is a very pale family. We think they are not very well." Another boy said he was sure they would not live long.

Every day I asked my boys about Mr. Snow and his wife and baby. But one morning every one of the Snow family was gone. Where was Mr. Snow? Where was Mrs. Snow? And where was the funny little baby? They had lived in our yard just one week. No one knew where they had gone. No one but the south wind and the sun, and they would not tell.

--S. E. SPRAGUE.

CROSSING THE BROOK.

````O dear little rill!

````Why don't you keep still!

````I never can cross,

````To that bank of moss,

````With you racing past

````The smooth stones so fast.=

````Are you ever still,

````You swift little rill?

````Don't you sometimes stay

````In cool nooks to play,

````For days or for hours,

````With bees, birds, and flowers?=

````If only I knew,

````I'd come and play too,

````I don't think you'd mind,

````Your voice sounds so kind.

````Who taught you to sing,

````You dear little thing!=

````And now for the moss!

````I 'll toss you a bit,

````You good-natured chit.=

````There! bear it away--

````Since you will not stay--

````And give it, for mo,

````Dear rill, to the sea,--

````The great sea so wide,

````With ships on its tide!=

````Now please don't be rude,

````Though I must intrude,

````And wade fairly through

````Your ruffles so blue.

````How pretty they look,

````You dear little brook!=

````Come on, Snip; don't fear!

````You can't drown in here;

````And, if you do get

````Your dainty toes wet,

````'T will not make you sick:

````So come along, quick!

````Thanks, kind little rill!

````Though you can't keep still,

````You did n't get cross.

--Mrs. M. J. TAYLOR.

GRANDFATHER'S SPECTACLES.

|One day Grandfather Shriff lost his spectacles. "Where can they be? Maybe they are on the mantel." So he hunted, but could not find them on the mantel.

"Where can they be? Perhaps they are among the books." So he hunted and hunted, but could not find them among the books.

"Perhaps they are in the other room." So he hunted and hunted and hunted, but could not find them in the other room.

"Perhaps they are up-stairs." So he hunted and hunted and hunted and hunted, but could not find them up-stairs. "Perhaps I dropped them somewhere in the front yard." So he hunted and hunted and hunted and hunted and hunted, but could not find them anywhere in the front yard.

"Perhaps they are out in the dining-room." So he hunted and hunted and hunted and hunted and hunted and hunted, but could not find them in the dining-room.

At last he asked old Aunt Harriet, the cook. "Why marster, there they is, right square on the top of your head." And, sure enough, there they were. Did n't we all laugh at grandfather!

--R. W. L.

FINDING BABY'S DIMPLES.

````See my baby brother

`````Sitting in mamma's lap;

````He's just getting ready

````To take a little nap.=

````But before to dreamland

`````My baby brother goes,

````I want to count his fingers,

`````And see his chubby toes.=

````Mamma, can't you make him

`````Just talk and laugh again,

````So we can find the dimples

`````In his sweet cheeks and chin?=

````His eyes shine like diamonds

`````When he looks up so glad.

````O, he's the dearest brother

`````A sister ever had.=

````Now he talks a little,

`````And laughs, come quick,

`````and see

````My baby brother's dimples,

`````As cunning as can be.=

````The angels love our baby,

`````He is so very fair;

````And so they came and kissed

`````him,

````And left the dimples there.=

--MRS. T. S. LOVEJOY.

KITTY'S FRIEND TOAD.

|A great fat toad and Prim, my white kitten, are very good friends. He stays in the barn shed, where her milk-saucer is kept.

When the cows are milked, Prim always expects her saucer will be filled. If Fred forgets to give her any, she cries, "Mee-ow!" Then he remembers and gives her some milk.

Kit's friend, the toad, gets into her saucer and sits, and she doesn't mind it at all. She laps what milk she wants, and leaves the rest for him.

One day, when she went to eat her dinner, the toad put his foot up on her face lovingly, as you would pat and smooth your dear mamma's face.

Sometimes I bring the saucer and Toady into the parlor to show my visitors. He likes it, and winks his bright eyes at them.

He never tried to get out but once. Then he swung his long legs over the side of the dish, and was just going to jump, when I put my hand on him.

The ladies all screamed and ran. Then they all laughed.

--MRS. J. A. MELVIN.

PLAYING HORSE.

```Out in the fields to have some fun

```With the soft green grass, the breezes and sun,

```And the sweet new flowers, and birdies gay,

```On this frolicksome, sunny, glad spring day.

```Sister Nell is willing, you see,

```A steady, gentle "old horse" to be.

```She has carried her driver far and fast,

```And now she is ready for rest at last.=

```Give her some grass, and take good care

```Of your pretty horse with the golden hair;

```Then off she'll go for another run

```With her little driver, till play is done.

```O, the breezes, how soft they blow!

```Through the tree-tops singing they go:

```And, chasing Maudie adown the hill,

```Play with her glowing hair at will.=

```Hither and thither the birdies fly,

```Glad in the freedom of earth and sky;

```And blossoms open their eyes to see

```How joyous and fair the day can be.

```But there are no things so glad and gay

```As our little ones at their merry play,

```When sister Nell a pony will be,

```And "make good times" for her darlings three.=

--M. D. BRINE.

NINE LITTLE PIGS.

|We have nine little pigs. One is all white. One is light brown. The rest are spotted. These nine pigs live in a pen. It is in a yard near the barn. The pigs like to run in the yard. They turn up the soft dirt with their noses.

One day they made a hole under the fence. Piggy White got out of the yard first. The little brown pig came out next. Then all the spotted ones came out. Piggy White stopped to look around him. "Wee! wee! what a big world this is!" he said. Then all the other little pigs said "Wee! wee!" just like Piggy White.

Piggy White was larger than any of the others; so of course he knew all about it."

"Where shall we go?" said the little brown pig.

"Let us go up the hill," said a spotted one. The other little pigs said "Wee! wee!" again. That is the way they said yes.

So they started up the hill. It was a very small hill; but the pigs said, "What a large hill this is!" They were only baby pigs, you know. This was their first walk, out of their yard. By and by they came to the top of the hill. They saw a large house in a large yard "What a big pen!" said all the little pigs. "Do you think we shall find more pigs there?" said the brown pig. "Wee! wee!" said the others. You see, a pig thinks the whole world was made for pigs. Some one had left the gate open. The nine pigs went into the yard, one after another. No one was in sight, so they went on. They were still looking for pigs.

Before they got to the door, the cook came out. The pigs gave her one look. "That is no pig," said Piggy White.

Then they all ran back to their pen. But they knew more than when they left it. They had seen the world, and they had found that there are more than pigs in it.

--S. E. SPRAGUE.

CONFIDENTIAL

````O yes, it was lovely down there at

`````Cape May,

````And I s'posed I should never be

`````tired of play;

````And Auntie was sweet as an auntie

`````could be;

````But some one was homesick, you

`````s'pose it was me?

````Such elegant ladies and beautiful

`````girls

````All asking for kisses and praising

`````my curls;

````But no precious papa to hug me, and say,

````"Has dear little Kitty been good all the day!"

``And mamma, dear, when they turned out the light,

``And no blessed mamma to kiss me good-night,

````Cuddled down in the pillow, with no one to see,

````Was a little girl crying you guess it was me?=

--EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER.

A ROSE THAT WILL GROW FOREVER.

|Roger Daland was sick. He was just sick enough to be cross.

His picture-books fell off the bed. His playthings hid under the bedclothes, and Roger cried. His mother read aloud to him, but he did not like the story. Then she told him a true story about the "Mission for the Sick."

"Kind ladies met in a hall," she said, "and took with them fruit, flowers, and good things for sick men, women, and dear little children."

Roger was pleased. He thought about the mission some time; then he said, "I wish I could send my rose-bush in the little red pot."

"You can if you wish," said his mother, "and I will write a note for you."

Roger's eyes grew bright. His mother wrote, "Roger Daland sends this rose to some sick child."

Then it was sent away in a nice basket. Three days after, the postman brought Roger a note; it said:--

"Dear Little Boy, I am lame. I can never walk. My mother goes out washing. I am alone all day. I used to cry. I never cry since the rose-bush came. I sit in my chair and watch it. I thank you, and my mother does too. I learned to write before I fell down on the ice. My mother cannot write, but she says she will ask God to bless you. She can work better, for the rose keeps me company. She used to cry too, when I was all alone.

"'The rose will grow forever,' she says. I hope it will not die.

"My mother says 'if it does die in the pretty pot, the goodness will keep on growing.' I shall not let it die.

"Your friend,

"Mary Brennan."

When Roger's mother finished reading the note her little boy looked very happy. After that he sent little Mary some of his toys. He is well now; but he never forgets the Mission for the Sick.

--KATE TANNATT WOODS.

THE SIGNS OF THE SEASONS

```What does it mean chirp,

```And away to the south-land the wild-geese steer?

```When apples are falling and nuts are brown?

```These are the signs that autumn is here.

```What does it mean when the days are short?

```When the leaves are gone and the brooks are dumb?

```When the fields are white with the drifting snows?

```These are the signs that winter has come.

```The old stars set, and the new ones rise,

```And skies that were stormy grow bright and clear;

```And so the beautiful, wonderful signs

```Go round and round with the changing year.=

--M. E. N. HATHEWAY.

SEEING FOR GRANDMA.

|Grandma Farn is getting old, and has a disease of the eye. She will be seventy at her next birthday. She cannot see to read or to sew as well as she used to. But she has a number of grandchildren.

She calls them her eyes. She says that they must do her seeing for her; and they do, for they are good boys and girls, and love her very much.

The boys are larger and older, and they read aloud in the evening by the light of the lamp. The girls are younger, and cannot read yet; though Lucy, the eldest of the four girls, is now going to school.

The girls have found out a nice way for seeing for grandma. They take a spool of cotton and a paper of large needles. They thread every needle and leave it hanging on the spool. This saves their grandmother's eyes. All she then has to do is to put away the needle when she has used all the cotton. Then she takes another, and another, till the whole twenty-four are used.

Then the girls thread the twenty-four again. In this way they "see for grandma."

Grandma makes clothing for the poor. She can see enough to sew, but not enough, even with glasses, to thread her needle.

--R. W. LOWRIE.

````Such a little woman,

````Busy little fingers,

`````Gravely shelling beans,

`````Eyes of sweetest blue;

````Kitty looks as she would say,

````"Don't you bother, kitty,

`````"Tell me what it means!"

`````I have work to do.=

````"You may sit and watch me

`````While I'm shelling beans;

````I am helping mother,

`````That is what it means."=

--LUCY R. FLEMING.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

````Come, cheerful and gay

````As the glad sun in May,

````Let us carol away

````The bright Christmas Day.=

````The star of His birth

````Shines white o'er the earth.

````Then in transports henceforth

````Let us shout of His worth.

````Our griefs we will fling

````To the winds as we sing,

````And our voices shall ring

````With the name of our King.=

MRS. C. F. MONTAGUE.

ZIP IN TROUBLE.

|As Uncle Will was going home one noon, he saw a crowd in the street near his house. There were about fifty boys, and they were standing about something that seemed to please them. Their shouts of glee could be heard a long way off.

Uncle Will walked up to find out what was the matter. What did he see but his tame crane, Zip. He was perched on one foot in the midst of the boys, pecking at them right and left. Not a boy could come within six feet of him without feeling the point of his sharp bill.

The boys thought this was great fun. They never had seen so strange a bird. But poor Zip did not enjoy it. When he saw Uncle Will he ran to him, and tucked his head under his arm. He was glad enough to be taken home.

Zip was very fond of music. When the piano was played, he would stalk into the house, if the door stood open. If the door was closed, he would tap on the window till he was let in. Then he would dance up to the piano, and strike upon the keys with his beak. If the tune was a lively one, he seemed to enjoy it all 'the more; he would tap faster and faster; his bill would come down, pounce, between the fingers of the player, but it never hit them.

It as good as "man's-buff" to But Zip grew lie got up at day-the garden. Some-night, when the clock struck. His voice was loud, but it was not sweet. He was not Jenny Lind; he was only Zip. The neighbors did not enjoy his songs. They said he waked up the babies. So poor Zip was sent to the country. There he was very sad, and sang a great deal. But there was only one baby to hear him, and that baby was deaf.

LITTLE BY LITTLE.

|When Charlie woke up one morning and looked from the window, he saw that the ground was deeply covered with snow. The wind had blown it in great drifts against the fence and the trees.

Charlie's little sister Rosey said it looked like hills and valleys. On the side of the house nearest the kitchen the snow was piled higher than Charlie's head. Mamma said she did not know how black Aunt Patsey could get through it to bring in the breakfast.

"There must be a path cleared through this snow," said papa. "I would do it myself, if I had time. But I must be at my office early this morning." Then he looked at Charlie. "Do you think you could do it, my son?"

"I, papa! Why, it is higher than my head! How could a little boy like me cut a path through that deep snow?"

"How? Why, by doing it _little by little_. Suppose you try; and if I find a nice path cleared when I come home to dinner, you shall have the sled you wished for."

So Charlie got his wooden snow-shovel and set to work. He threw up first one shovelful, and then another; but it was slow work.

"I don't think I can do it' mamma," he said. "A shovelful is so little, and there is such a heap of snow to be cleared away!"

"Little by little, Charlie," said his mamma. "That snow fell in tiny bits, flake by flake, but you see what a great pile it has made."

"Yes, mamma; and if I throw it away shovelful by shovelful, it will all be gone at last. So I will keep on trying."

Charlie soon had a space cleared from the snow, and as he worked on the path grew longer. By and by it reached quite up to the kitchen door. It looked like a little street between snow-white walls.

When papa came home to dinner, he was pleased to see what his little boy had done. Next day he gave Charlie a fine blue sled, and on it was painted its name, in yellow letters, "_Little by Little_."

The boys all wanted to know it came to have such a name.

And when they learned about it, I think it was a lesson to them as well as to Charlie.

--MRS. SUSAN ARCHER WEISS

WHAT THE SNOW-FLAKES SAY.

````Bright, beautiful snow crystals,

`````Filling the air,

````Why do you come dancing,

`````From homes so fair,

````To fall and be trodden on everywhere?=

````"We hurry, we scurry down,

`````From regions bright,

````To clothe the murky old town,

````And bare hills, bleak and brown,

`````In garments white.=

```"And when we are trod on and black,

````Our sweet task o'er,

```We joyously hasten back,

```Dance o'er the homeward track,

````More glad than before."

--M. J. T.

A DANGEROUS FRIEND.

A TRUE STORY.

|Once there was a little boy named Charley, who was not afraid of anything. He would pick up frogs or bugs, or walk up to a dog or goat and pat him just as if he was an old friend. But he was a good boy, and never hurt any creature.

He drove the cows home every evening. Charley loved the cows that gave him such good milk, and he used to talk to them as he drove them along.

One day Charley thought he would cut across a lot that was fenced in. He had only walked a little way when he saw a big bull trotting towards him. Do you think Charley was frightened? Not a bit. He knew it was of no use to run. As quick as he could, he pulled up a handful of grass and held it out to the bull.

The bull was feeling very ugly, for the men who put him in the field had beaten him, and choked him with the rope around his neck. But when he saw Charley standing there so bravely, he knew the little boy did not want to hurt him. He stopped, looked at Charley a moment, and then quietly ate the grass, from his hand.

Charley pulled some more grass and gave him, and then some more, and more, until the bull had enough. Charley walked away, with the bull following him to the fence.

The next evening he pulled some turnips and carried them to the bull. He liked them very much. Every day after that Charley carried something good to his big friend.

But one day Charley's father passed by the field. He was terribly frightened to see his little boy on the bull's back, riding around the lot. He shouted to him, but turned pale when he saw Charley take hold of the horns and let himself down over the bull's head. He expected to see the animal toss the little fellow in the air; but he only rubbed his black nose against Charley and let him run to his papa.

The next day the bull was taken away, for Charley's papa did not want him to have such a dangerous friend.

I do not believe the bull would ever have hurt the kind little boy; do you?

C. H. B.

THE PET FOX.

|Hardie had a funny present once. It was a little fox. The man who gave it to him found it when it was a small cub. He tried to tame it as it grew older, but he could not make it very tame.

The man belonged to the army, and soon he had to go away. Then he gave his fox to Hardie, who was glad to have it for a pet. He wanted to keep it in the house. But his mamma said Foxy was not a nice pet to keep in the house. So Hardie made him a kennel out doors. Foxy had a collar on, with a strong chain.

His young master fastened him by this chain; and then he gave him chicken bones, and other good things, to eat.

Foxy seemed quite happy for a time; but one day the dogs found him, and they teased him so that poor Foxy worked out of his collar and ran and hid in the house. Hardie was sorry for his pet, but he knew he must not stay in the house.

So he made the collar and chain fast once more, and put the fox back in his kennel. Then he fenced it up so that the dogs could not get in, and said, "There, poor fellow! You need not be afraid!"

But when Foxy heard the dogs bark he was afraid. He was sure they would get at him, and he worked so hard at his collar that he got it off again. Then he ran away to the woods, Hardie was very sorry to lose his fox; he asked all the boys if they had seen it.

Down the road there lived a blacksmith who had two pet raccoons. They were tame, very tame. They had a place to live in which they had fixed as they liked it. They used to run across the road from their home to a spring, to drink.

A boy who did not know about the blacksmith's raccoons saw one of them as it ran to get a drink. He chased it and caught it Then he came up to find Hardie.

"Hardie, I 've found your fox!" cried the boy. Hardie ran in haste to look; but when he saw what the boy had brought he said, "O dear! That is no fox at all. It is one of Mr. Gunn's raccoons."

The boy took the raccoon back, and Hardie never found his fox.

--MRS. D. P. SANFORD.

PLAY-TIME.

````The boys were in the garden,

````Digging little wells;

````The girls were at the sea-side,

````Hunting pretty shells.=

````The boys were in the schoolroom,

````Sitting all in rows;

````The girls were in the ball-room,

````Standing on their toes.=

````The boys were in the wild woods,