Chapter 2

They liked the prairie-dogs and the antelopes; but they were afraid of the buffaloes; and, when their papa went out to shoot one, they would almost cry for fear he would get hurt. But, when he came back with plenty of nice buffalo-meat, they had a real feast; for they had had no meat but salt-pork for many a day, and they did not like that very well.

Sometimes a storm would come up with fearful peals of thunder, and flashes of lightning. More than once the tent was blown down, and the rain came pouring on them; but the little girls put their heads under the bed-clothes, and crept close to their mamma, and never minded the storm.

After travelling in this way three or four months, they were still many, many days' journey away from California, and Annette and Lisette began to wish themselves back in their old home; for now the plains were no longer green and bright with flowers, but hot, sandy, and dusty, with only ugly little bushes, called "sage-bushes," growing on them.

Sometimes they would have to go all day without water; for the water was so warm and impure, that nobody could drink it,--not even the cattle. They saw several hot springs, so hot that they could not put their hands in them; but their mamma found them very nice for washing clothes.

Late in the fall they crossed the Sierra Nevada Mountains; and, oh! how steep and narrow and rough the road was! Often their papa had to fasten logs of wood to the wagons to keep them from going down the mountains too fast. Sometimes a wagon would upset, and go rolling down hill.

Yet the children enjoyed being in the mountains; for they liked to play under the tall pine-trees, picking up the cones, and hunting for lumps of pine-gum, and hearing all the time the sweet music of the wind as it sang in the branches.

But in a few days the weather got very cold. Heavy snow-storms came on. One night twenty head of cattle were frozen to death; and as there were few oxen left, and the flour was almost gone, the little girls began to be very much afraid that they should perish too.

Luckily their papa shot some fat deer, which gave them plenty to eat; and, after many hardships, the whole party reached the Sacramento River in safety. Here they got on board of a flat-boat, and went to Sacramento City, where they lived in a tent for many months. I may some time tell you how they went to the mines.

A journey to California is a very easy matter now-a-days. You may go by railroad all the way, and have every comfort by day and night.

Annette and Lisette have made the journey more than once in a palace car; but they often think of the times when they were two happy little girls riding over the prairies in a baggage-wagon, or playing together under the mountain pines.

A. F.

SALT-LAKE CITY, UTAH.

A LETTER TO GEORGE.

DEAR GEORGE,--I wish you were with me now on my farm. We are having nice times. There is a little colt here that follows me all about. He does this because I give him apples. But I think he is more fond of the apples than of me.

One day I had nothing to give him; and this made him feel very cross. He put back his ears, and kicked up his heels, and scared the chickens almost to death.

There are ten little chickens. One of them was sick; but it has got better. One of them was running along the other day, and caught his foot in a string; the string caught on a bush, and held him fast; and there he was standing on one leg and struggling until I pulled the string off.

William and Jane are going down to Mr. Walker's to get a basket of apples. Come and see me, and I will give you some; and you shall make friends with the colt.

W. O. C.

THE BLACKBERRY FROLIC.

"WHY, where are you going, Nelly?" asked Martin Ray of his sister, as, with a plate of pudding for him, she entered his chamber where he was confined to his bed.

Poor Martin had broken his leg by a fall from a tree, and he had to keep very still.

"We have made up a blackberry-party," said Nelly. "The girls and boys are waiting for me at the door; and I can only stop a minute to say that you must be good, and not fret while I am away."

"Don't be late in returning home," said Martin; "for mother is going to take me down stairs for the first time, this afternoon; and I want to see you before I go up to bed."

"All the sweetest berries I can find shall be saved for you," said Nelly, as she tied the little scarf about her neck, put on her hat, and kissed Martin for good-by.

Nelly's companions were waiting impatiently for her at the door; and, when she came, they raised a shout of "Here she is!" Then they set off, through a shady lane, on their walk to Squire Atherton's woods, along the borders of which the blackberries grew in great profusion.

Soon they came to a place where a brook crossed between two fields, with such a narrow plank for a bridge that some of the girls did not half like going over it; for the brook seemed to be quite full and deep.

"What a fuss you girls make about trifles!" cried Robert Wood. "Who but a girl would think of being frightened at a bridge like this?"

"Stop that, Robert," said Harry Thorp. "I will help them across in a way that will prevent all danger."

Harry plucked up a stout bulrush that grew near by, and held it out over the plank to the girls to serve as a kind of support for them to hold by. Susan Maples was the first to lay hold of the thick end of the bulrush, by which Harry led her across. Then the other girls followed; but, just as Nelly got on, Robert Wood shook the plank, and tried to scare her.

He did not succeed in this; for Nelly was thinking of her dear brother at home with his broken leg, and she felt that she would not be afraid of a much more dangerous crossing than that over the plank.

After a walk of a mile, they came to the edge of the wood. "Jewels of jet! Look here!" cried Harry Thorp. "See the bouncers! Here's sweetness! Here's blackness! Here's richness!"

And, true enough, there they were. Never were high-bush blackberries finer or riper; but the largest and ripest seemed always the hardest to get at. The boys cut hooked sticks, with which they pulled down the branches; and their mouths were soon black with the juice of the berries. Then the girls began filling their baskets.

The sun was low in the west when Nelly remembered her promise to Martin, and said, "Now for home!" to which the rest cried, "Agreed!"

But the girls had not gone far before they began eating the berries from their baskets, and offering them to one another,--all but Nelly Ray. She did not eat any of her blackberries, nor did she give any away; and yet she had the best basketful of all.

She had, besides, a branch of a bush, with berries on it, which she was carrying very carefully; so that she kept a few steps behind the other girls.

When Nelly reached home, she looked in at the open door, and saw Martin down stairs for the first time since his accident. He was wrapped in shawls; and Nelly said, as she put the full basket on his knees, and waved the branch before his eyes, "Why, brother, they have wrapped you up so, and your face is so pale, that you look like a girl."

"Looks are nothing: behavior is all," said Martin, laughing. "Why, Nelly, what a splendid feast we shall have! What big ones! Thank you, dear, dear sister."

As she heard those words, and saw his pleased looks, Nelly felt she was well repaid for all her trouble.

IDA FAY.

LITTLE JACK HORNER.

Words by AUNT CLARA. Music by T. CRAMPTON, W. London.

1. Little Jack Horner, He sat in the corner, Crying for something to eat; In came Mother Hubbard, And went to the cupboard, And bro't him a nice plate of meat. Then little Jack Horner Came out of the corner, And threw his nice meat on the floor: "I want some mince pie!" Was the naughty boy's cry, As he clung to the drawing-room door.

2 "I don't like cold lamb; Give me raspberry-jam:" But old Mother Hubbard said, "No! If a boy cannot eat Such nice, wholesome meat, To bed without food he must go."

3 So little Jack Horner, Who cried in the corner, Was washed clean, and put into bed: After sleeping all night, He awoke fresh and bright, And was glad to eat plain meat and bread.

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Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

This issue was part of an omnibus. The original text for this issue did not include a title page nor a table of contents. This was taken from the July issue with the "No." added. The original table of contents covered the second half of 1873. The remaining text of the table of contents can be found in the rest of the year's issues.

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

On pages 37 and 38, the sounds of the lambs were in a smaller font. For this text version, this has been represented with tildes. (~)