Part 2

ONE day, when I was in the barn, I happened to look up, and there, on a beam, I saw a red squirrel with a great bushy tail. He was looking right at me.

The next day I saw him in my yard, trying to jump from one tree to another. I thought he would fall; but he just saved himself by catching the end of a twig.

Up in one of the chambers there was an old satchel hanging on a nail. Bunny climbed in at the window, and filled the satchel with nuts and apple-seeds. There was a basket of corn in the wood-house; and Bunny carried it almost all away.

One day, as Bunny was going along in the grass, he heard a noise: so he sat up, and looked about. He saw a dog. Up went Bunny into a tree.

The dog came under the tree, and barked. The saucy squirrel ran down, and said with his eyes, "Now catch me if you can," and then ran up to the top of the tree as quick as a wink.

W. O. C.

THE CHILDREN'S PARTY.

WILL you come to our party to-day, Carrie Wynn? The party is all ready now to begin; And you shall be mother, and pour out the tea, Because you're the oldest and best of the three.

My white cups and saucers that came Christmas Day Are all set out nicely on Hatty's gilt tray; Real milk in the cream-jug, and real sugar too; But only _play_-tea--we pretend that it's true.

We've got a _whole_ orange, and three macaroons, And some _blue_-mange--we'll eat it with Hatty's new spoons; And we've carried our table out under the trees: So come, Carrie Wynn, to our party, do, please!

Hatty'll sit at one end, and the other you'll take; And I'll cut the orange, and she'll help the cake: You'll see something funny--the reason, don't ask it-- When we've eaten the cake, we can eat up the basket!

We invited the dolls; but they both have the mumps; And yesterday mine got two terrible bumps: So we left them in bed; and I do not much care, For dolls never _will_ sit up straight on a chair.

Then, nicest of all, when our party is done, We'll wash up the dishes; and won't that be fun! Then scrub sticky fingers and sugary thumbs; And the sparrows and robins may clear up the crumbs.

ELIZABETH SILL.

DANDY THE BEAR.

WE have a dancing bear in our village. His name is Dandy. He belongs to Mr. Werner, a German, who leads him about the streets, and makes a show of him. We children all give Dandy some of our spare cents when we see him; for a bear has to be fed like you and me.

"Come, Dandy," Mr. Werner will say, "here are the young ladies and gentlemen, all with plenty of cents in their pockets to give you if you perform well. They are good judges of high art. They can admire the poetry of motion. So do your prettiest."

Mr. Werner has a monkey and a pet dog. The monkey is called Captain. He wears a hat with a feather in it. The name of the pet dog is Grip. He is fat and greedy; and, if he sees a boy with a cake, he begs for a piece of it; indeed, he wouldn't object to the whole of it. I wonder if you can spy out Grip and the Captain in the picture.

But Dandy makes more fun for us than all the rest. "Now, Dandy," Mr. Werner will say, "make your most stunning bow to the ladies, and then give us a turn on the light fantastic."

By the "light fantastic," Mr. Werner means "the light fantastic toe." He has made this joke so many times, that we know what he means by it.

Thus encouraged, Dandy will bow, raise himself on one of his hind-feet, and whirl round in a _pirouette_. (If you do not know what a _pirouette_ is, you must get some one to explain and pronounce the word for you.)

You would laugh to see Dandy imitate the great dancers. Though he can hardly be called graceful, he is very amusing; and we children willingly pay for the sight a cent each when the Captain passes round the hat.

Mr. Werner thinks of taking Dandy to other towns to show off his accomplishments. If you should ever see him, I hope you will treat him well for my sake. I am the boy in the picture with a slate under his arm; and my name is

RICHARD ROE.

LITTLE MISCHIEF.

IV.

BESSIE went to pass a week with her Aunt Clara and Uncle Frank. Uncle Frank was a portrait-painter. One day Bessie took her doll Cornelia, and went into his studio.

On the easel stood a portrait. Bessie looked at it, and thought it must be a likeness of her friend Col. Fraser. "But," said she, "the mustache is too faint: it wants paint."

Then she remembered hearing her uncle say that he had more work than he could attend to. "What if I do a little work for him, and so give him a surprise!" thought she.

V.

"Uncle Frank, when he is by, never lets me touch his paints," said Bessie to herself; "but that must be because he does not know how clever I am. Nothing can be easier to paint than a mustache. It is only a number of hairs."

So Bessie climbed up into her uncle's chair, and took one of his long brushes in her hand. Then she looked at the colors on the palette, and tried to mix the blue and red as she had seen Uncle Frank do.

The long brush was hard to manage. However, she remembered the rhyme, "Try, try, try again;" and she worked away until she thought she had got the tint.

VI.

At last Bessie was ready to begin her great work. So, standing on tiptoe, she applied the brush to the upper-lip. She was determined, while she was about it, to give Col. Fraser a thoroughly good mustache, long and thick.

Now and then she would step back a little way, and consider the picture from a distance, as she had seen her uncle do. She was well pleased with her work. It was certainly a great improvement: so Bessie thought.

At last she laid down her brush. She felt quite charmed with her success, and picked up her doll off the floor, that she might see how well her little mamma could paint.

VII.

"It is beautiful! Is it not, Cornelia?" she said, as she threw herself back in the chair. "Uncle will never say again that I cannot paint. Perhaps it is more blue than Col. Fraser's mustache; but it is all the prettier for that."

Bessie remembered, too, that her mamma had once read to her a story about a man with a blue beard. "So people _do_ have blue mustaches sometimes," thought she.

What did Uncle Frank say when he saw what she had done? I am sorry to say he did not agree with Bessie that the picture was improved. At first he was vexed; then he laughed; then he gave Bessie a kiss.

TOO MANY PRESENTS.

DID you ever hear of the boy who had a drum and a trumpet and a rocking-horse for his Christmas presents, and cried, after all, because Santa Claus had given his sister a doll, and hadn't given him one?

I have heard of that boy; but, to tell the truth, I doubt the whole story. It is a little too tough for me. I don't believe there ever was such a boy; and I won't believe in him until I see him.

But I did know a little boy who _almost_ cried because he had _no_ Christmas present. He was a good boy too. He would have been pleased with any thing; and it was too bad that Santa Claus forgot to bring some little gift for him.

The queerest case, though, is that of the little boy whose picture we have here. You see him just as he looked on Christmas morning, with his presents all around him; and yet you see he does not look happy. What can be the matter with the child?

Ah! the trouble is, that he has too many presents. He has so many that he doesn't know what to do with them. He doesn't know which to play with first. He is afraid all the time that some of them will get lost. And so, by trying to enjoy them all at once, he fails to enjoy them at all.

Poor boy! he is having a hard time of it, and I pity him very much. If I were going to prescribe for him, this is what I should say, "Tom, my boy" (I know by his looks that his name is Tom), "don't be cast down. I'll show you the way out of your trouble. Your case is pretty bad; but there's a remedy. What you want to do is to _give away_ something.

"Now, there's that doll that you are hugging so closely. What does a boy like you want of a doll? That must have been meant for some little girl. It was sent to you on purpose to give away. Of course it was.

"Then there are those two wagons. You don't want both of them. You know you don't. Find the boy who hadn't any Christmas presents, and give one of the wagons to him. Let that wooden soldier go with it; for what do you want of a soldier, when you have a gun of your own?

"And what if you should give away something that you do want very much; why, it wouldn't hurt you a bit: you would feel all the better for it. Just try now, Tom, and see if you wouldn't."

Perhaps the little boy would take my advice; and perhaps he wouldn't, but, if he should, I'm sure he would make a much more cheerful picture than he does now.

UNCLE SAM.

THE DOG AND THE SHADOW.

A DOG, crossing a bridge with a piece of meat in his mouth, saw in the water what he took to be another dog, with a piece of meat twice the size of his own. Letting go his own, he flew at the other dog to get the larger piece from him. He thus lost both,--that which he grasped at in the water, because it was a shadow; and his own, because the stream swept it away.

JACK & GILL

Old Nursery Rhyme extended.

Music by T. CRAMPTON.

VOICE

AND

PIANO

1. Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after. Jack got up and said to Jill-- As in his arms he caught her-- "If you're not hurt, wipe off the dirt, And then we'll fetch the water."

2. Jack and Jill went round the hill To tend the geese and gander, But strolled away to sport and play, And left the geese to wander: A fox came down and pounced on one, And stole it for his dinner. While Jill and Jack came running back, But Foxy was the winner.

3. Jack and Jill went down the hill To scare away the crows there: Jack fired his gun, and soon killed one, But blew off his own nose there. Says Jill, "Good luck, my darling Jack! I'll go and fetch your master; And don't suppose you've lost your nose, We'll stick it on with plaster."

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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 or table of contents. This was taken from the January issue with the "No." added. The original table of contents covered the first six months of 1873. The remaining text of the table of contents can be found in the other issues.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, February 1873, Vol. XIII., by Various