Chapter 2

I had so many pleasant letters about that red star, I am going to ask you to write again when you find the Great Bear, although I suppose most of you are abed and asleep before he comes out for the night. He will appear earlier when the days are shorter, and I do not believe he can escape all your bright eyes. But I should advise you to ask some one who knows where he is to point him out to you.

M. E. R.

TEDDY'S KITTEN.

TO let the kitten lie and sleep Is something Teddy cannot do; Like caterpillar in a heap, She'd like to curl the whole day through, If Teddy did but want her to.

I wonder if she understands, How just the look of her soft fur So tempts his little roguish hands He cannot keep away from her: He says he wants "to hear her purr!"

And, if he does, 'tis well enough; But then, why does he rub the way To make her silky coat look rough?-- That coat of shining silver-gray, So washed and polished every day?

Why is it that he loves so much To tickle the unconscious paws With just a finger tip or touch, Or open them to find the claws? _His_ reason for it is, "Because!"

When Teddy sometime wanted rest, What if a giant came and sat Beside him when he slept the best, And rolled him this way, rubbed him that, And teased him, as he does the cat?

Do you believe he'd smile and blink, And bear the teasing patiently? I think he'd wink a sleepy wink, And say, not over pleasantly, "O giant, please to let me be!"

MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.

PICTURES FOR MARY.

WHEN little Jack Horner was eating pie, he put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum. When Mary's mother reads to her out of a book, the little girl acts a good deal like Jack.

She puts out her finger, and points to the pictures. She thinks them the best part of the book. They are her plums.

If Mary calls out, "Moo-o-o," you may know that she sees a picture of cows. Here is the very one she found a day or two ago. In it you see two cows,--a big one and a little one. The big cow is standing up, and the little cow is lying beside her.

The little cow has no horns. Mary calls it "a little cow," because it looks too old to be called a calf.

Here is the very picture that Mary was looking at when she called out, "Ba-a-a!"

How many sheep do you see in it? There are two lying down: there is one standing up: that makes three. Is that all?

Look very sharp. See if you can't find more of them. Mary found some straying about on the hills. She thought she could see lambs too; but sheep, when a long way off, look very much like lambs.

A. B. C.

THE CHAMOIS.

THE chamois is a sort of antelope. But first let us say something of the pronunciation of this word _chamois_. It is often pronounced as if it were spelled _sham'my_. This is, perhaps, the easiest mode. But it would be nearer to the French mode to pronounce it _sham-wah_, the last _a_ having the sound of _a_ in _wall_.

The family of antelopes consists of nearly seventy species, upward of fifty being found nowhere but in Africa. The whole of America, North and South, contains but one species. All the antelopes have a most delicate sense of smell, and few quadrupeds can equal them in fleetness. They will outrun the swiftest greyhounds.

The antelopes live in herds, and are very careful not to be surprised: so they place sentinels to watch, and give alarm. The eye, large and brilliant, is a marked feature of the tribe. The word "antelope" signifies "bright eyes."

Our picture shows us several young chamois, standing amid the crags and chasms and precipices which they delight in. A chamois can descend in two or three leaps a rock of twenty or thirty feet, without the smallest projection on which to rest.

The horns of the full-grown chamois are quite black and smooth, and formed like a perfect hook with very sharp points. These elegant creatures are the only animals of the antelope kind to be found in Western Europe. They choose for their home the loftiest mountains.

They dislike heat, and in the summer time they frequent the cold upper regions of the everlasting hills,--either the lofty peaks, or those valleys where the snow never melts. In the winter time, however, the cold of those bleak solitudes seems too much for them, spite of their long, hair and thick coat of fine wool; and they descend to the lower regions. It is then, and only then, that the hunter has any chance of capturing them.

It is said they can scent a man a mile and a half off; and their restlessness and suspicion are extreme. At the prospect of danger they are off and away, racing at an incredible speed, scaling crags with the most amazing agility, and leaving the pursuer far behind.

They are usually taken by a party of hunters, who surround the glen where they are, and advance towards each other until the herd is hemmed in on all sides.

The flesh of the antelope is like venison. No animal ought to yield sweeter meat than the chamois, when we think what he feeds upon. Mountain herbs and flowers, and tender shoots from tree and shrub--such is his food. He drinks very little, but that little is sparkling water; while the air which reddens his blood is the purest in the world.

UNCLE CHARLES.

THE GARDEN TOOLS.

COME, hoe and shovel and rake, From your winter nap awake! The spring has come; There's work to be done: The birds are calling, And off I must run My little garden to make.

You have lain in the attic so long, Perhaps you forget you belong In the sunshine and air full half of the year; And to leave you to mice and to cobwebs up here Any longer would surely be wrong.

Come out of the darkness to light, Where the sunbeams are glittering bright, And the green grass is growing; For I must be hoeing, And digging the earth, and my seeds be a-sowing, And finish it all before night.

Oh, how I hurried and dressed! For the robin was building his nest, And he cried, "Fie! For shame! What is the boy's name, Who sleeps in the morning? He's surely to blame For not working here with the rest."

Come then, rake, shovel, and hoe, With a run and a jump, here we go! Soon so busy we'll be, That the robins shall see, For all their fine words, they're no smarter than we, As off to the garden we go!

AUNTIE FRANK.

Words by TENNYSON. Music by T. CRAMPTON.

1. What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day? Let me fly says little birdie, Mother let me fly away. Birdie wait a little longer Till the little wings are stronger. So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away.

2. What does little baby say In her bed at peep of day? Baby says like little birdie. Let me rise and fly away. Baby sleep a little longer Till the little limbs are stronger. If she sleeps a little longer, She shall fly away.

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Transcriber's Notes:

The July edition of the Nursery had a table of contents for the next six issues of the year. This table was divided to cover each specific issue. The issue number added after the Volume number on the title page.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Nursery, July 1877, XXII. No. 1, by Various