Part 2
GOING CRABBING.
Come, Bob, Tom, Ned, Jack, Jim—all of you. We are going a-crabbing.
Hooray! hooray! hooray!
Bob and Tom must carry the nets, and here is twine and bait enough for all of us. It is a dull day, and the crabs will bite well, I guess.
What queer shells! Yes. They are periwinkles. Ned will crack them for us when we get to the creek. Then I will show you how to catch crabs. Here we are!
Along the shore now take your stand, With a bit of fish-line in your hand!
At one end of the fish-line tie on this piece of periwinkle meat. Ugh! It is not nice I know, but you must not be too nice when you go crabbing. The boys must look after the girls and see that their lines are all right. Now—have you plenty of elbow room? Is the bait tied on so that it cannot get off? Then swing the line and throw it so that the bait falls well out into the creek. Now wait—and hold on to the other end of your line. Do you feel a jerk? a pull? Then haul in very slowly, and be ready with the nets, Bob and Tom. Slip the net under the crab as soon as it is near the shore. If you do not it will get away. Look! There is a crab with but one large claw! It broke off the other in trying to get away. A crab will often lose a claw rather than be taken in a net.
See that one dart off under the seaweed! Now we have all that we need. Let us roll up our lines and go home. Look at John, with a crab fast to his coat. Oh! what fun we have had!
PETER’S WORK-SHOP.
Peter is fond of tools. He loves to saw and hammer, and to drive nails. Oh, what a noise he makes! He has a room all to himself in the upper part of the house, and here he spends most of his time on rainy days when he is out of school.
It is handy to have such a boy as Peter around, for if a hinge gets loose, or a piece of board is wanted, there is no need of sending for a carpenter; Peter will attend to it just as well as the best.
Nellie, Dotty, and Susy, bring him their dolls to mend, and sometimes he has so much work of this sort to do that his work-shop looks like a dolls’ hospital. He has a sign upon the wall—“Dolls mended”—and he tries his best to do his work well, and to keep his tools bright.
Poor little Dotty was almost broken-hearted when Laura Matilda fell and broke her arm; but Jessie said “Peter can mend it;” and Dotty took it to Peter herself for she would not trust the dear doll out of her arms. She has to sit patiently and wait her turn, just as sick people do in the hospital, and is comforted by seeing other dolls worse off than poor Laura Matilda. What if she had broken her neck? or smashed her head? O that is too dreadful to think of.
Peter has an order for a bench, and after he has sawed the board the right length, he will have to use the plane and make it nice and smooth, and all this takes time. Dotty thinks he is very slow; but there are some things that cannot be done fast, and “what is worth doing at all is worth doing well.” Have patience, little Dotty!
UP IN THE BELFRY.
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong! Little girls up in the belfry so high, Think they have climbed to the edge of the sky.
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong! People below look like flies they’re so small; Laura’s so short she can’t see them at all.
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong! Fleecy white clouds o’er their heads, see them float! Oh, if the girls could have one for a boat!
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong! Floating through cloud-land how happy they’d be! Wonderful things in the heavens they’d see!
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong! Rain-bows and sun-beams, the hail, and the snow, All these the secret of making they’d know.
Ging! Gong! Ging! Gong! Tree-tops and clouds they must now leave to go Down to the earth and the people below.
THE TIDE.
Mildred came over to spend an afternoon with Gertie. Gertie led Mildred to her favorite spot. It was out on the rocks, away out to the very last one that could be seen above the water.
Gertie took off her shoes and stockings. Mildred felt too much dressed up to do that. They sat on the rock, Gertie dangling her feet in the water. They talked, and they laughed, and they sang:
“Little fishes in the water, Who has taught you how to swim? Has your mother or your father Shown you how to use each fin?
“Little fishes in the water, Who has taught you how to dive? How to glide, and not to falter, How to live, and how to thrive?”
Suddenly Gertie looked toward the shore. The tide was coming in. Already some of the stepping stones were covered with water. Her stockings and shoes were gradually being carried away.
Mildred was frightened. Gertie looked very brave but wasn’t so calm as she looked. She picked up her soaked shoes and stockings. They started for the beach. They ran and they jumped. Mildred wasn’t sure footed. She slipped and she slopped. Her shoes were soon wet.
The water rose higher and higher. No use in jumping, for the rocks and stones were now covered. Poor Mildred had to wade through the water with her new shoes and stockings on her feet. But her shoes were not any wetter than Gertie’s were in her hand. Mildred’s pretty dress was badly wet, too.
Gertie took her visitor to her room to get her clothes dry. She felt ashamed to think she had forgotten about the tide. She was sorry she had by her thoughtlessness marred the pleasure of Mildred’s visit.
DOLLY’S BATH.
Dolly needs to have a bath In her little tub, Where her pretty hands and feet I will gently rub; Twist her hair upon her head So it won’t get wet; Then the towels and the soap And the sponge I’ll get.
There now, Dolly, stand just so; Very quiet keep; Though the water in the tub Is not very deep, It might make you very ill, Very pale and thin, If by any chance, my dear, You should tumble in.
Where’s my dolly? O dear me! I told her not to stir! For oh, you know, all-over baths Do not agree with her! And now she is a dreadful sight; Not fit to hug or kiss! Oh, dolly dear, how could you serve Me such a trick as this?
THE LITTLE MOTHER.
Lulu’s dolls are so large that you would think they were real flesh and blood. She likes to have them large, she says, for then she can hug them, and make it seem as if they were alive. Her doll-baby, Flo, is just the size of her little sister, Baby May, and it is hard sometimes to tell which one she has in her arms.
Lulu is a real little mother girl. She takes the best of care of her dolls, and fondles them, and talks to them just as if they knew all that she said. She makes all their clothes, and keeps them in good order, and it would surprise you to see how well she sews.
She is gentle and kind in all her ways, but sometimes she has to scold G. W. and B. F. and stand them in a corner.
They are such bad boys. Lulu has not made up her mind yet whether she will call them George Washington and Benjamin Franklin, or more fancy names, but has become so used to G. W. and B. F. that it will be quite hard for her to make any change. When night comes on Lulu sings her dolls to sleep, and then puts them in their own little beds where they rest quietly until daylight. If they were real children, and cried out in the night with aches, and pains, and bad dreams, what a hard time Lulu would have!
THE STOLEN CHILD.
This is a sad story, as you might well know. But sad things will take place now and then, and we cannot help it. It is a story about a little boy, named Peter. That was to be his name when he grew up, but now nobody called him anything but Pete.
Pete had had a bad fall when a little baby and it left him with a weak back, so that he could not run and romp like the rest of the small boys. He had toys to play with, but they were not nice or new, and he soon tired of them. What he wanted most was a doll. Really? Yes. He was ashamed to let the boys know it for fear they would call him “Sissy,” but deep down in his heart there was a strong desire for a doll to hug, and to hold, and to take to bed with him.
One day a lady came to the house, and somehow she guessed just what kind of a boy Pete was. Without saying a word, she took a small shawl off a hook, gave it a fold and a roll, pinned it together and then handed it over to the small boy.
You should have seen Pete’s face! There was not room on it for the broad smile that tried to get there, and finally had to break itself all up into little bits. Oh, how he hugged and loved that doll! and he soon got so he did not mind being seen on the street with it in his arms. There was no danger of breaking it; and it could sit down bea—u—ti—fully.
One day Pete thought he would try to climb a lamp-post. He had seen the other boys do it, and it looked easy, but he would need two hands. So the doll—Matilda Jane—had to sit down on a stoop near by, and wait until Pete came back for her.
Well, it was not long; but when Pete got back to the place where Matilda Jane was he could not find her.
She was go——o——o——ne! Somebody had stolen her!
Pete was heart-broken. He cried, and cried, and cried. He should never see his own dear Matilda Jane again! And the worst of it was that he wouldn’t know her if he saw her. Even his mother laughed, and said “Oh, it was only an old shawl. No great loss!”
But Pete’s heart was wrapped up in that shawl and that is what makes this a sad story. He might have other dolls, but none that would take the place of his Matilda Jane.
CAUSE FOR THANKFULNESS.
Fast asleep, fast asleep, are these dear little girls; On the pillow are laid their two heads, full of curls, And of dreams gay and bright: Their prayers these sweet little maidens have said, And their stockings hung up at the head of their bed, To be filled this glad night.
While they dream their mother sits beside them. While she fills their stockings with gifts, her heart is filled with praise. Her two little girls are both alive and well. It is not many weeks since the elder was very ill. The mother had been very sorrowful at the thought of losing one of her own dear girls.
What queer fancies sick people have! This little girl while ill imagined many things. She thought she was a fairy riding in a little golden carriage driven by two small white kittens, and that the doctor was a giant. She told him he was too big to take a drive with her, he would smash her carriage and kill her kittens. If he would be good, and not make her swallow such horrid stuff, she would change him into a dear little Puck, with a green jacket and a lace ruff.
Sometimes she thought she was an angel flying through the air. She said she was sitting on a horn of the moon, but would fly off soon to a world way off out of sight. That made her mother cry.
Once she very politely asked her father—a very large man—to take a seat on the mantle-piece, as she thought the room was crowded. And once she thought she was a clown in a circus, and tried to stand on her head in bed.
She was very ill; but she got well, however. Now it is Christmas eve. The mother is happy and thankful because there are two little girls instead of one.
PLATO’S SOLILOQUY.
Do I look like a happy dog? Do I look like a handsome dog? Do I look like a respectable dog? Is this what the other dogs call fun?
My master is a very kind man. He has brought me up well. I knew he did not like his dogs to stay out all night, nor wander off at any time with vulgar dogs. I had over-heard dogs talking about the fun they had when off together. I had been invited a number of times to join them. I had always refused until last night. Then I made up my mind I was going to have some fun too. So quietly slipping away, I ran around the corner and off with the dogs.
Fun? Yes, we did have fun, though an uneasy sneaky feeling would come over me at times to interfere with my happiness. Fun? Yes, but it ended in a fight! Fun? Yes, we did have fun, but I’m not having any now!
One eye nearly gone, one ear half chewed off, a hole in my cheek, a hump on my leg, my master in sorrow, and I in disgrace, to say nothing of aches and of pains. It will be some time before I get my good looks back again, or my usual fine gait. Three-legged and one-eyed! Ugh!
Fun? Yes! But if any dog imagines that I think it pays, he is very much mistaken. When I let myself down again to go off with vulgar dogs, no matter what the fun, may I be locked in the asylum for foolish and insane dogs!!
THE KING’S DAUGHTER.
She does not look like a Princess, with her plain fur cap and cape, and driving her own sleigh. Yet a daughter of the King she is.
If you could look under the fur robe, you would find a doll’s carriage, and in it two dolls all dressed for a drive. You would find a doll’s bed, with pillows, blankets, mattress and spread. You would find a pair of skates, a sled, some mittens, handkerchiefs, caps, and hoods; and a basket of candles, spangles, and small toys for a tree.
This “King’s Daughter” did not pay for them all. She is only one of a circle of Daughters. They saved their money, they bought the toys, they made the clothes, and they dressed the dolls, not for themselves, not for their own little brothers and sisters, but for a family of children who but for them would have no presents at all. Their father is poor and ill, and their mother earns but little.
It is the day before Christmas. This King’s Daughter is taking these things to the home of those poor children. The other Daughters will meet her there, to trim a tree they have ordered. The poor mother will help them, forgetting her sorrows for a while. The sick father will smile as he looks on. This will be his last Christmas-tree on earth, as he can not live much longer. He is very glad the King has sent his daughters to do for the children what he is not able to do for them himself.
On Christmas day will come a basket, full of good things to eat, which these same girls have provided. These girls by saving their money have had less candy to eat, fewer trinkets to wear, and perhaps a little less fun. But think of the comfort and happiness they will give to those poor children, that sad mother, that sick father!
Are you a daughter of the King?
GETTING READY FOR BED.
Allan thought it was time he learned to get himself ready for bed. He wished to be a man as soon as possible. That, he thought, would be one way to grow manly. So he kissed everybody good-night and went upstairs to bed all alone.
No, not exactly alone, for Toodles went with him. Allan did not admit it to anybody, but he really was very much obliged to Toodles, as he was a great deal of company.
“Now Toodles, you watch me undress, and see if I don’t know how!” And Toodles watched.
“You see that, Toodles?” asked Allan as he put out one foot with a stocking on it. “That is where I keep some of my pigs.”
“Pur-r-r, pur-r-r,” said Toodles.
“Sure!” said Allan. “You can’t see them, for they are all covered up; but they are there. Now, look!” Allan jerked off the stocking and wiggled his toes before Toodles’ very nose. “See, five of them!”
“Pur-r-r, pur-r-r,” said Toodles.
“And here’s where I keep all the others!” said Allan as he held up the other stockinged foot. “See them?” Off went that stocking. “Are they not nice little pigs? There’s the one that went to market, and there’s the one that said, ‘squeak, squeak.’” Allan poked his bare foot into Toodles’ ribs and wiggled his toes in his fur.
“Pur-r-r, pur-r-r,” said Toodles.
Allan got his clothes off, but found it hard to get his nightgown on. His hands would go into the legs of the gown. His feet would go into the arms of the gown. He and the gown got all tangled up. Toodles couldn’t help him. He could only encourage him by saying “Pur-r-r, pur-r-r.”
Mamma came up and straightened him out, and buttoned his gown behind.
Then Allan said his prayers, asking God to “bless everybody and Toodles.”
A BOY.
Tickle your chin! Tickle your chin! When a boy wakens, our trials begin.
Tickle your chin! Tickle your chin! When a boy dallies, there’s mischief within.
Tickle your chin! Tickle your chin! When a boy dresses, he makes a great din.
Tickle your chin! Tickle your chin! When a boy washes, he half rubs his skin.
Tickle your chin! Tickle your chin! When a boy frolics, to imps he’s akin.
Tickle your chin! Tickle your chin! When a boy loves us, our hearts he can win.
THE LITTLE SAIL-BOAT.
James had a present of a big Jack-knife, and oh, how proud he was of it! He whistled all day long, and at last made himself a nice boat, with bowsprit, mast, and sail, all complete. James called his boat the “Arrow,” for it would fly so swiftly when the wind was right. O how it would go!
James had a sister Ella, near his own age, who was very fond of her brother, and proud of the boat that he had made. The two always played nicely together, and were never known to quarrel. James liked to please Ella, and Ella liked to please James, so both were happy.
There was nothing James and Ella enjoyed more than wading in the shallow water and guiding the little sail-boat—their newest toy. Ella called James—“Captain”; and James called Ella—“Mate,” and as James wore a sailor-suit he felt quite like a sea-faring man.
James was careful not to let his little boat get out into deep water, for it had cost him a great deal of time and trouble to make it, and he did not care to lose it. But one calm day the Captain and Mate had gone for a drive, leaving the sail-boat in what they thought was a safe place. While they were gone, a stiff breeze came up and blew the little boat away from the shore, and it sailed, and sailed far out of sight. Wasn’t that too bad?
IF I ONLY HAD WINGS!
If I only had wings, now I’m tired of play, How nice it would be to go sailing away! The sky is so blue and the clouds are so bright, I should never be weary from morning till night.
You dear little bird on the top of the tree, I am sure you’re as happy as happy can be; With your little wings you can fly very high, But with large ones I think I could get to the sky.
There are many things there which I’m longing to know: Those clouds look like mountains all covered with snow; Oh, if we had wings could we go there and play, And tumble about as we do in the hay?
And where do the stars go as soon as it’s light? And why do they twinkle the whole of the night? Do they talk to each other when no one can hear? And do they feel sad when the moon isn’t there?
If that butterfly now to a fairy would turn, Perhaps she would help me these secrets to learn; Such beautiful sights and such wonderful things I would quickly find out if I only had wings.
AFTERNOON TEA.
I have three dolls. Their names are Blanche Amelia, Capitola, and John Henry. Blanche Amelia and Capitola are very well-behaved, but John Henry gives me a world of trouble. I thought it would be nice to have a boy-doll. But it is not. He is a great care.
When I dress up Blanche Amelia and Capitola in their best clothes, they seem to know that they must act like ladies, and I am never ashamed of them.
I love to make believe; don’t you?
Mamma and my sister Belle go out to afternoon teas and receptions, and when they come home I hear them tell how this one looked, and what that one did, and what the other one said, and what they all wore, and oh! how I do enjoy it.
Then I have an afternoon tea for my dolls. I have my own set of dishes, and my own tea-tray, and I pass the cups around to them just as if they were real folks.
Blanche Amelia and Capitola sit up and behave their best, but John Henry will put his arms on the table, although I have told him it is not nice to do so.
When I play afternoon tea I have to eat all the goodies myself, and drink all the warm milk, which I call tea, and when the play is over I am ever so tired. But not a bit hungry. Oh, no!
HOW ELMER WAS LET ALONE.
“I just wish I could be let alone for a while,” said Elmer Green. “I am tired, and I don’t want to do anything for any body.”
“Tired” was another name for “cross,” and to tell you the truth this was one of Elmer’s real cross days. He got up cross, and he would stay cross for some time. He always did. It was of no use to try to please him. It could not be done. So he took a book and went off by himself, but was not gone long before he came back for his top. He spun that for a while; then he got out his toys; then he counted his marbles; then he thought he would pick some cherries, but there was no one to go with him, and there was no fun in going alone.
What should he do? He wanted to be amused, and didn’t know how to amuse himself.
Presently he came into the room where his mother was, and stood around hoping she would ask him to do something for her. But she did not. She had a great deal to do, and needed help, but she would not call on Elmer. It made him feel as if he was of no use to any one.
“Mother,” he said at last, “what can I do?”
“Please yourself,” was the quick reply.
That was what Elmer had been trying to do, but with poor success. He hung his head, and felt as cross as a bear. As he sat in a corner, his mother took up the pail to go out to the well. Elmer seized the pail out of her hand and drew the water. He began to feel better. Then he looked around to see what else he could do. He did not wait to be asked. The more he did, the more he felt like doing. He had found out that it was not nice to be let alone; and he also found out that he pleased himself most by trying to please others.
BY THE MILL-POND.
Come, let us sit down under the shade of this big tree.
How its branches reach over, and dip down into the water. It is like a great umbrella. It is an old tree. See how thick the trunk is. It is nice to sit in its shade on such a warm day. We will ask the miller to give us some corn, and we will feed the ducks. There are five of them—white as snow, and with bright yellow bills and legs.
Here they come!—one, two, three, four, five. Let us name them. Ala, Ela, Ila, Ola, Ula. The names sound very much alike, but that will make no difference to them. And if you call one the others are sure to follow.
Quack—quack—quack—quack—quack!
They know what we are sitting here for, and they are in haste to be fed. They are always hungry.
Now throw the corn out, where the water is deep. See the ducks dive for it! That one is standing on its head. How queer it looks, with its yellow legs kicking up on top of the water. Over goes that one! Heels over head! The ducks don’t mind. Now let them quack, quack for a while. Soon they will sail off to their pet feeding-ground, where the earth is moist and there are soft grasses.
Look! look! What is the matter? A big turtle has seized one of the ducks by the leg. It cannot get away. Isn’t that too bad! Now there are only four white ducks on the mill-pond.
MRS. BRUIN AND HER CUBS.