Part 4

“Oh,” they all cried, “how we should like to see the chickens that lay such beautiful eggs!”

“Of course hens do not lay them,” said one little girl. “Hens’ eggs are white.”

“I saw a rabbit running away from my nest,” said another. “I believe a little rabbit laid them.”

All the children laughed and said, “Yes, yes! The rabbits laid the colored eggs!”

From the German of CHRISTOPH SCHMID (_Adapted_).

THE FARMER AND THE BIRDS.

It was springtime. The birds were singing merrily as they built their nests.

But the farmers were angry. They did not want the birds to eat the corn in the fields, and the cherries on the trees.

The farmers said that all the birds must be killed. But the birds had one friend.

This friend stood up before the farmers and said, “Think of your woods and fields without the birds! Who will drive the worms from your fields and gardens?

“The birds pay you well for the grain and the cherries that they eat. What will you do without their sweet music?”

The farmers laughed and would not listen to the friend.

They sent men and boys into the fields and the woods to kill the birds. The little ones were left to die in their nests.

When summer came, there was not a bird to be seen. Hundreds of worms ate everything that grew in the gardens and fields.

That autumn there were no red and yellow leaves on the trees. The branches were dry and brown.

Then the farmers were sorry. The next spring they sent a man away to bring the birds from all the country around.

One day the man drove a wagon covered with green branches into the village. Cages filled with singing birds hung upon the branches.

The farmers opened the doors, and the birds flew out.

Once more the woods and the fields were filled with sweet music.

Suggested by LONGFELLOW’S poem, “The Birds of Killingworth.”

MAY.

MARY’S MEADOW.

Mary liked to plant flowers beside the road and in the fields.

She told her father that she wanted to make people happy who had no gardens. So Father called her The Traveler’s Joy.

But Mary liked best of all to play in the Squire’s meadow. It was filled with beautiful flowers and singing birds.

Mary cried when her father told her that he and the Squire were no longer friends. He said she must not play in the meadow with the Squire’s great dog, Saxon.

One day, the gardener gave Mary some pretty cowslips. She forgot what her father had told her, and ran down to the Squire’s meadow to plant them.

Soon she heard a loud shout. She looked up and saw the old Squire running toward her. With one hand he held his dog, Saxon, who was trying to get away.

Mary was so frightened that she did not hear what the Squire was saying. She told him that she was not digging up his cowslips, but planting them.

Just then Saxon came running toward her. The Squire stopped shouting to her, and called to Saxon. He did not know that Mary and Saxon were such good friends.

Mary threw her arms around Saxon’s neck, and began to cry. Then she picked up her basket and ran home as fast as she could.

Every day she thought the old Squire would come and tell her father. But he never came.

II

The next spring it was great fun to look for the flowers which The Traveler’s Joy had planted.

One day Mary’s father sent for her. When she came home, she found the old Squire talking to her father. He held some cowslips in his hand.

He gave them to Mary, and said, “My dear, I am sorry that I sent you out of the meadow.”

“But I was not digging up your cowslips,” Mary said.

The old Squire put his hand on her head. “I know, my child,” he said. “You are The Traveler’s Joy.”

“I am glad the cowslips grew,” Mary said. “I hope they will grow all over your meadow.”

Then the Squire said, “It is not my meadow now. I have given it away.”

“Oh, please, please, do not give it away!” cried Mary. “Can’t I play there with Saxon, and plant flowers?”

The Squire smiled at her father, and said, “Yes, Mary! You may play, and plant, and do what you like there.”

Father put his arm around the little girl. “You do not know what the Squire means. Do you, dear?” he said. “The Squire has given it to you. Now we shall always call it Mary’s Meadow.”

JULIANA HORATIO EWING’S “Mary’s Meadow” (_Adapted_).

THE MAY PARTY.

A bright, happy crowd of children marched to the woods for a May party.

First came two boys carrying a May-pole to which bright ribbons were tied.

Then came the May Queen with a crown of flowers on her head, and a long wand in her hand.

The girls marched behind the May Queen, carrying the pretty May baskets which they had made. The boys were waving flags and blowing horns.

When they came to the woods, the boys set up the May-pole and all the children danced around it.

In and out they went weaving the bright ribbons. The girls went to the left, the boys to the right. They bowed as they passed each other, and sang the pretty May-pole song.

Soon the pole was wound with the bright ribbons.

Then some of the children ran down to the water to sail boats, and others went up, up, in the swings.

The older girls set the table. What a beautiful table it was! There were sandwiches, and oranges, and cakes, and nuts, and candy.

After the children had eaten all the good things, they went through the woods gathering flowers.

They filled the pretty baskets with flowers, and stood them side by side. But the children could not tell which they liked the best.

That night, when it was dark, each girl and boy put a basket on the door-step of a friend, then rang the bell and ran away.

They had such a good time that they wished May-day came oftener than once a year.

COME, MY DOLLY.

Come, my Dolly, come with me, Dance beneath the apple-tree. See the blossoms flying down, Wings of pink and rosy crown. Catch them, Dolly, in your gown, While the sun sees you and me Dancing ’neath the apple-tree.

Some day, Dolly, you will see Snow upon the apple-tree; White wings then will flutter down, Covering leaves all dry and brown. But, my Dolly, do not frown; When spring comes again, you’ll see Pink wings on the apple-tree.

LYDIA AVERY COONLEY-WARD.

PROSERPINA.

It was harvest-time and the grain was ready to be gathered.

Mother Ceres was very busy, for she had the care of every seed that grows.

She put on her hat made of poppies. Then she stepped into a chariot drawn by a pair of winged dragons.

“Dear Mother,” said Proserpina, “may I go down to the shore and play with the sea-maids?”

“Yes, child,” answered Mother Ceres, “but you must not go alone into the fields.”

The sea-maids heard Proserpina calling. Soon she saw them coming up out of the water. They made a chain of beautiful shells and hung it around Proserpina’s neck.

“How pretty it is!” said Proserpina. “Wait for me here while I run into the fields. I want to make each of you a chain of flowers.”

Proserpina’s hands were soon full of flowers. She was turning to go back, when she saw a beautiful plant near her.

“I will put it in my garden,” said Proserpina. She pulled and pulled. Soon Proserpina held the plant in her hands. She was surprised to see the deep hole which its roots left in the ground.

II

The hole grew deeper and wider, and Proserpina heard a loud noise under the ground.

Four black horses jumped out of the hole, drawing a golden chariot. In it sat a very dark man, with a crown of diamonds on his head.

The man caught Proserpina in his arms, and shouted to his horses. They went so fast that they seemed to fly through the air.

Proserpina was frightened and called out, “Mother! Mother Ceres! Come quickly and help me!”

But Mother Ceres was a great way off, and could not hear her cry.

“I will not harm you,” said the man. “I am King Pluto. All the gold and silver under the ground belong to me.

“I will give you a garden full of prettier flowers than those in your hand. Where I live all the flowers are made of pearls and rubies.”

Just then Proserpina saw Mother Ceres in a field far away. She gave a loud cry, but King Pluto only made the horses go faster.

As they went under the earth it grew darker and darker. By and by they came to his castle. It was made of gold and lighted with lanterns made of diamonds. There was no sunshine in King Pluto’s country.

“Try to be happy, little Proserpina,” he said. “You may have my crown to play with. If you like, you may sit beside me and be my little queen.”

“I do not want golden castles and crowns,” sobbed Proserpina. “Please carry me back to my mother.”

Dinner was ready for them but Proserpina would eat nothing. She knew that if she ate the food or drank the water of King Pluto’s country, she could never see her mother again.

III

Mother Ceres heard Proserpina’s loud cry. She looked all around but could not see her. Then she drove home quickly, but she could not find her in the house.

She heard the sea-maids singing, and ran down to ask them about Proserpina.

“She left us this morning to gather flowers,” said one of them. “We have not seen her since.”

It was now almost dark. Mother Ceres lighted her torch, and went from house to house asking every one about her child.

Day and night for six long months she hunted for her little girl. Her torch burned dimly by day but at night it lighted her path.

At last some one told her that Proserpina had been carried off by King Pluto.

Then Mother Ceres said, “The grain shall not grow, nor the flowers bloom, until my little girl is given back to me.”

The earth turned brown, and there was no food for men nor animals. So they asked King Pluto to make the earth green by sending Proserpina home.

IV

Proserpina had grown very hungry. She had just begun to eat some fruit when King Pluto told her she could go back to her mother.

As she walked along, everything turned green. Beautiful flowers grew in her path. The cows and the sheep began to eat the grass and the birds to sing in the trees.

Mother Ceres was sitting on the door-step when she heard Proserpina say, “Here I am, Mother dear.”

How happy Mother Ceres was, to hold her little girl in her arms once more. Proserpina told her all about King Pluto’s castle.

“I was so unhappy, Mother dear,” she said, “that I did not eat anything until to-day. Then King Pluto gave me some fruit that had grown in one of your gardens.”

“Oh, my little Proserpina!” said Mother Ceres. “Why did you eat it?”

“I did not eat all of it,” said the little girl. “I swallowed only six seeds.”

“My child,” said Mother Ceres sadly, “you ate those six seeds in King Pluto’s castle. So you will have to spend six months of every year under the ground with him. While you are gone nothing shall grow. But when you come back to me in the spring, we will make the world beautiful.”

NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE (_Adapted_).

HAWTHORNE AND HIS CHILDREN.

Nathaniel Hawthorne had three children. They had great fun together.

In the spring he made them boats to sail on the lake, and kites to fly in the air.

In the summer he went fishing with them and took them into the woods to gather flowers.

In the autumn they went nutting.

One day the children were standing at the foot of a tall walnut tree. Soon they heard a shout.

When they looked up the children saw their father high up in the top of the tree. Then down came the nuts! The children put them into bags and carried them home.

When the snow came, their father took them coasting. Sometimes as they went down the hill they fell into the snow.

Then how they shouted and laughed!

Hawthorne liked to take long walks with his son. The little boy thought that his father was the best playmate in the world.

Once when they were out walking, they passed through some tall grass and weeds. They played these were giants and dragons which had to be cut down.

Hawthorne struck so hard that he broke his cane. Then he sat down and watched the little boy fighting with the giants and dragons.

Hawthorne loved children so much that he wrote books for them.

His three children loved his stories. They read his Wonder Book and Tanglewood Tales so often that they knew them almost by heart.

JUNE.

THUMBLING.

There was once a woman who had no little child. So one day she went to see a Wise Fairy.

“I wish for a tiny, little child,” she said. “Can you tell me where I can get one?”

“Here is a grain of corn,” said the Wise Fairy. “Plant it in a flower-pot. Then you will see what is to be seen.”

“Thank you,” said the woman.

Then she went home and planted the corn in a flower-pot.

The next day a large flower came up. It looked like a tulip bud.

The woman kissed the red and yellow leaves. As she kissed it the flower opened with a loud snap.

In the middle of the tulip there was a little tiny girl. She was only an inch high. So they named her Thumbling.

II

“Thumbling must have a cradle,” said the woman. So she made her one out of a walnut shell.

Thumbling slept on the blue velvet leaves of a violet. Her cover was a pink rose leaf.

One night a great Ugly Toad hopped in at the window.

“What a pretty little girl!” she said. The Ugly Toad took the walnut shell and hopped down into the garden. A brook ran through the garden.

“I will put her out in the brook on a water-lily leaf,” said the Ugly Toad. “Then she cannot get away.”

On the largest leaf the Toad laid the walnut shell. Thumbling was in it fast asleep.

In the morning Thumbling awoke and began to cry. The Fishes looked up and saw poor little Thumbling.

“Why are you crying, little girl?” they said.

“I do not want to live with the Ugly Toad,” said Thumbling.

“Live with the Toads?” said the Fishes. “No, that must never be.”

They cut the stem of the lily leaf with their sharp teeth.

The lily leaf floated down the brook and carried Thumbling away from the Ugly Toads.

III

By and by a large May-bug came flying along.

He caught Thumbling with his long claws. Then he flew with her into a tree. How frightened little Thumbling was!

Soon many other May-bugs came into the tree, to look at poor frightened little Thumbling.

“Why!” said one. “She has no claws.”

“She has only two legs,” said another. “She should have six.”

“How ugly she is!” said all the others.

When the May-bug heard this he flew down with her from the tree. He set her upon a large daisy and left her there.

All summer Thumbling lived alone in the great woods.

She wove a bed out of the leaves of grass. She hung the bed under a large leaf to keep out the rain.

Thumbling ate the honey from the flowers. She drank the dew that stood every morning upon the leaves.

Then winter came, and it began to snow. Poor little Thumbling! She was very cold.

IV

A Field Mouse lived in a corn-field close to the woods.

“I will ask the Field Mouse for something to eat,” she said.

Poor Thumbling stood at the door like a little beggar girl.

“You dear child!” said the Field Mouse. “Come into my warm house. You may eat dinner with me.”

“Would you like to stay with me all winter?” said the Field Mouse.

“You may keep my house clean, and you may tell me pretty stories.”

The winter was long and cold. But Thumbling was happy with the kind Field Mouse.

V

One day Thumbling found a poor bird lying near the Field Mouse’s door. Thumbling was very sorry. She thought the bird was dead.

“Poor little Swallow!” she said. “You must not lie on the cold snow.”

Thumbling wove a mat of hay. Then she laid it over the Swallow. She found some soft wool and made a warm bed.

“Good-by, you pretty little Swallow,” she said.

Then Thumbling laid her head against the bird. The Swallow moved. It was not dead. It was only cold.

The Swallow opened its eyes and looked at Thumbling.

“Thank you, pretty child,” he said. “I am warm now. Soon I shall fly about in the bright sunshine.”

“Oh!” said Thumbling. “You cannot live out of doors. Cold winter is here. You must stay in the Field Mouse’s home.”

The Field Mouse did not like birds. But she liked Thumbling and wished to make her happy.

So all winter the Swallow lived in the Field Mouse’s warm home.

VI

At last spring came.

“I must go now,” said the Swallow. “Will you go with me, Thumbling? You may sit upon my back and I will fly out into the bright sunshine.”

“No!” said Thumbling. “The kind Field Mouse will be sorry to have me leave her.”

“Good-by, then, dear little Thumbling,” said the Swallow.

“No, no!” said Thumbling. “I will go with you. I do not like to live in the dark ground when it is so beautiful above.”

Thumbling sat upon the Swallow’s back. Then he flew high up into the air.

By and by they came to a warm country.

A large white flower was growing in a garden. The Swallow flew down and set Thumbling upon one of its broad leaves.

VII

In the middle of the flower she saw a little tiny man. He was no larger than Thumbling.

The tiny man was as pure and white as if made of glass. He had a gold crown on his head and bright wings on his shoulders.

He was the King of the flower fairies.

“Oh, how beautiful he is!” said Thumbling to the Swallow.

The fairy King was glad to see Thumbling. He took off his crown and put it on her head.

“You shall be Queen of all the flower fairies,” he said.

How happy every one was! Out of every flower came a tiny flower fairy.

Each one brought the Queen a gift, but the one she liked best was a pair of golden wings.

When she put these on she could fly from flower to flower.

“You shall not be called Thumbling,” said the fairy King. “That is an ugly name. We will call you Maia.”

HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN (_Adapted_).

MIDSUMMER NIGHT.

When the moon shines, and the stars are bright, and the warm winds blow, the fairies meet together. They come from everywhere.

The fairy queen, Titania, sends one to hang pearls of dew on the flowers. She sends another to kill the worms that are eating the roses. She sends others to frighten away the birds that cry at night.

When Titania lies down upon a bed of cowslips, the fairies sing her to sleep.

Other fairies wait upon Oberon, the king. The one he likes best is Puck.

Puck is the merriest fairy of all. He plays all sorts of tricks to make the king laugh.

The fairies dance merrily together in the moonlight. But when they are frightened they hide in acorn cups.

The king and the queen and all their fairies stay in the woods through the summer night. But when they first see the sunlight, they fly away, and follow darkness around the world.

SHAKESPEARE’S “Midsummer Night’s Dream” (_Adapted_).

THE TEETER.

Said the brownest little Brownie, To the weest little Fairy, “Won’t you come along And play a while with me?” Said the weest little Fairy To the brownest little Brownie, “Tell me what you want to play, Then I will see!” So this sprightly happy fellow Found the broadest blade of grass, And balanced it upon a mossy stone. And those little fairy children Teetered gaily up and down, Up and down all the afternoon alone.

MAUD BURNHAM.

THE NIXIE’S MUSIC.

Little Nils was born on Sunday.

His mother told him that the fairies always liked a Sunday child. They would help him to be a great and good man.

She said that if he were kind and true, he would see the Nixie sometime. Then the Nixie would grant him three wishes.

Nils wanted to see the Nixie more than anything else. Many a time he sat by the water where the Nixie lived and listened for her music.

Sometimes on midsummer nights he thought he could hear it. But he could not see the Nixie nor tell her his three wishes.

“Perhaps I am not good enough,” thought Nils. Then he tried to be kind to the birds and animals. He was also very gentle with his little sister.

He knew what his three wishes would be, when he saw the Nixie.

First he wanted to be wise; then he wanted to be famous. But most of all he wanted a violin, so that he could play the Nixie’s music.

One day he asked the schoolmaster to let him take his violin.

The kind old man listened to Nils’s story. Then he said, “I will teach you to play the violin.”

After a few lessons, Nils tried to play the Nixie’s music. But though his ears could hear it, his fingers could not play it.

II

After a while the old schoolmaster died and left his violin to Nils.

Nils played on it all the time when he was not at work in the woods with his father.

The people said that he could play the Nixie’s music. They came from far and near to hear it. But Nils knew that he could not play it, although he could still hear it.

He played at all the feasts. He made more money with his violin than he did when he worked in the woods.

When he grew to be a man, he was very gentle and kind. People came to him when they were sad and wanted help. They called him Wise Nils.

Once two men were traveling through the country. They came to hear Nils play.

The travelers had never heard such beautiful music. They asked Nils to go with them and play in many countries.

“No!” Nils answered. “I must stay here. My people need me.”

III

A few weeks after the men went away, a large box came to Nils. He opened it and found that the travelers had sent him a beautiful violin.

As he drew the bow over the strings, Nils said, “Now I can play the Nixie’s music.”

He ran down to the water, for it was Midsummer Night. That is the time when Nixie always plays the loudest.

After a while he heard the soft music. But when he tried to play it the music was gone. Sadly he put his violin down.

Should he never see the Nixie and tell her his three wishes?

Then he said to himself, “But I have my first wish, for the people call me Wise Nils. And I might have been famous, if I had gone with the men.”

Then he thought of his third wish. He picked up his dear violin, and held it lovingly in his arms.

HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN (_Adapted_).

JULY.

AMERICA.

(_To be memorized_)

My country! ’tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my Fathers died, Land of the Pilgrims’ pride, From ev’ry mountain side Let freedom ring.

My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills, My heart with rapture thrills, Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom’s song; Let mortal tongues awake, Let all that breathe partake, Let rocks their silence break, The sound prolong.

Our Fathers’ God, to thee; Author of liberty, To thee we sing; Long may our land be bright With freedom’s holy light, Protect us by thy might, Great God, our King!

SAMUEL F. SMITH.

THE LIBERTY BELL.

It was the Fourth of July, 1776.

For more than a year America had been at war with England.

A great and good man had written a paper saying that America must be free.

On the Fourth of July a number of wise men met in Philadelphia, to see about signing this paper.

Many people stood around the house where they met.

“Will they sign it? Will they sign it?” the people asked.

An old bell-man was in the tower ready to ring the bell. His little grandson stood below to tell him when to ring it.

Hour after hour passed, but still the old man and the little boy waited.