PART TWO

_Early appearances are often deceptive, and one cannot tell how an unpromising beginning may end._

The ugly duckling found himself in the tall grass, and up flew a flock of little birds, making much noise. “That is because I am here. Even the little birds fly from me,” thought the poor duck.

Next morning he came to a marsh where the wild ducks lived. They looked at him and said: “You are really very ugly, but that does not matter so long as you do not marry into our family.” The little duck had no such idea, and so he stayed a while in the marsh.

Then came the wild geese, but they were young and foolish. They came flying down to where the little duck was and wished him to join them. But just then bang! bang! went the guns and two wild geese fell dead. A great dog jumped into the grass and bore one of the wild geese off in his mouth.

“I am glad I am too ugly to be shot, and too ugly for a dog to bite,” thought the duck, and hid himself under a tuft of grass, where he stayed all night, in great terror.

Then he went to a peasant’s hut and crept in the door, for a great storm was raging, and he was wet and tired. In the hut lived an old woman, a hen and a cat. The hen looked at the duck and said: “Can you lay eggs?” “No,” said the duck, “I have never tried.” The cat said: “Can you arch your back and purr?” “Oh, no, indeed, I know I cannot!” said the poor duck.

“Then get out of here, for you are of no use,” and the poor duck had to run for his life. The cat spit at him as he ran, and the hen scratched dirt in his face, and even the old woman, who was blind, threw her shoe at him thinking he was a weasel.

And now the winter was coming on. The duck had to find some place to live and something to eat. He felt stronger every day and learned to dive into the marshes for eels and frogs; but still he was far from strong. It began to grow cold and the wind blew.

The duck had to swim around to keep the water from freezing, but the hole grew smaller and smaller until at last it froze quite fast, and the poor duck was caught on the ice. Early in the morning a peasant came along and took him home and thawed him out by the fire. But he flew over the fence and went again into the marshes. Here he passed the winter.

Now it was spring. The duck rose in the air and began to fly. “How wonderful it is to fly!” he cried joyously and flew on and on until he saw a lake in the park. Here he flew down and looked at himself in the water. He was no longer a duck, for he saw a beautiful white bird with a long graceful neck. The children on the bank called out:

“Oh, come and see! Another swan! and he is the loveliest of them all!” Then he looked again in the water and hid his beautiful head under his wing to hide his joy. “I never dreamed I could look like this when I was the ugly duckling,” he said to himself.

KILLING THE BIRDS

_The needless destruction of birds is not only a wanton and cruel sport, but costs the farmers of the country a vast sum of money by allowing injurious insects to flourish._

It was spring. The skies were blue, the grass was green and the trees were covered with leaves. All nature seemed glad. The farmers alone were dissatisfied and angry. And why? Because the birds had eaten so many of their cherries and so much of their grain. They called a meeting at the town hall to consider what could be done to prevent this devastation.

At the meeting, the farmers spoke. Each told of his loss through the greediness of the birds. One farmer said, “The birds come into my oat field and light on the stalks and actually pick oats out of the stalks.”

Another one said, “They peck holes in the peaches, and apples, and eat up the cherries and figs, so that I lose a lot of fruit every year.”

Still another said, “I wish you could hear the noise they make around my house. They fly down and eat the chicken feed, then they fly off to the corn field and eat corn. Heaven only knows how much it takes to feed them.” And so it was that every farmer complained of the poor little birds.

Finally they decided that all the birds should be killed. Poor birds! They had but one friend at the meeting--the school master. In vain he begged for his friends, the birds; in vain he spoke of their use to the farmers--of their sweet music. The farmers would not listen, and the decree went forth that all the birds must go. By summer all had been killed by the farmers, or by traps set by the farmers’ boys. The little ones were left to die in the nest. Not a bird was to be seen.

And now hundreds of worms ate everything that grew. The branches of the trees were brown and dry, for the worms had eaten the leaves. There were worms everywhere--but no birds to eat the worms and stop their ruining the crops. The farmers now realized what a terrible mistake they had made in killing the birds. Their crops were ruined. Starvation stared them in the face. What could they do?

They went to the school master to ask his advice. “My friends,” said he, “you must get birds from somewhere; without birds your farms are worthless. You see you need the birds to destroy the worms, or else the worms will destroy your crops.”

At great expense and trouble the farmers went to a distant country to buy birds. They were brought in cages and turned out to make their homes in the trees. But it took many years to undo the harm that had been done by the foolish act of the farmers in destroying their bird friends.

SAINT GEORGE AND THE DRAGON

_A true knight is one who fearlessly offers himself in defence of the helpless, particularly women and children._

There was a rich king who had a daughter that he loved better than anything else in the world. She was very beautiful and everybody in the kingdom loved her dearly. Though she was the king’s daughter, yet she always thought of and helped the poorest of his subjects.

One day there came from the mountains a dragon with his mouth wide open to devour everything. The dragon’s breath was like fire, and his scales rattled as if they were made of tin. He was dreadful to behold. The king’s soldiers and knights were sent for to kill or drive away the dragon, but nothing could be done. Every time a knight went out to fight the dragon, the terrible monster knocked him down with a blow of his tail, and devoured him, armor and all.

The dragon demanded that every morning a young girl should be tied to a tree by the river where he could find her and eat her. There was great grief in the kingdom over this, but everybody knew it had to be done, or the dragon would come into the town and eat every one.

When the king’s daughter heard of the demand of the dragon and the grief of the people, she said, “Let me go. If the dragon must devour a young woman every day, he shall take me the very first morning.”

All the people begged her not to go, but she insisted. The high priest decided to take a pigeon into the court yard and set it free. If it flew to the East the king’s daughter was to go to the dragon.

When the pigeon was set free it flew to the East for a great distance. Finally it came to a knight on his horse. The pigeon lit on the knight’s shoulder and cooing tried to tell the knight of the trouble. Then it flew in the direction it wanted the knight to go. The knight understood and followed the pigeon.

He found the princess tied to a tree and the dragon close by. He told the princess not to be afraid for he was going to kill the dragon. She kept very still and the dragon lashed his tail in a fury as the knight came near to where he was.

Now, this knight knew that no ordinary methods would conquer the dragon. All the other knights who had attacked the dragon had been slain by its poisonous fangs. He quickly called for some pitch. The people ran to their houses and brought him a bucket full of pitch. He made a large ball of it, and put it on the end of his spear.

When the dragon came near with its mouth open he thrust the ball of pitch down its throat so that it was not able to open its mouth or use its poisonous fangs. The dragon was choked by the ball of pitch.

While the dragon was choking and trying to get the pitch out of his mouth the knight thrust his sword into him and killed him.

The princess was then untied and taken to the palace where there was great rejoicing. The king rewarded the knight by calling him St. George and giving him a gold cross.

THE WISDOM OF SOLOMON

_To show how a very wise man found out the truth of a cause brought before him for decision._

Solomon was king of Israel after his father, David, died. Solomon was a very wise king. He wrote a great many proverbs which we read in the Bible. He probably said these proverbs to his people in order to make them lead correct lives and to prosper in all their work. He was also a prosperous king and gathered much money for himself and his people. Upon one occasion the Queen of Sheba came to see him. He showed her his vast treasures of gold and silver, his houses and cattle, and he answered all the questions she asked him. The queen was greatly astonished at all this wealth, and said:

“Behold! the half was not told me. Thy wisdom and prosperity exceed the fame which I heard.”

We know that Solomon and his men built the great temple for the people of Israel, known as Solomon’s Temple. He had the stone cut in the mountain and shaped, so that when it was brought it fitted exactly into place. There was neither hammer nor ax nor any tool of iron heard in the house while it was building. So wonderful were the gold and precious jewels and rare woods and fine cloths of the temple that when it was finished there was no temple in the world finer than Solomon’s temple.

To show how wise a king was Solomon, let us see how he decided one case that was brought before him for judgment.

Two women came before the king. One of them said:

“Oh, my lord, this woman and I dwell in one house. We both had a little baby of nearly the same age. There was no one else in the house with us. This woman’s child died in the night, and while I slept she took my child from its bed and gave me her dead child. I pray you make her return to me my own child, for her child is dead and it is mine that is yet alive.”

Then the other woman said:

“Nay, it is my child that is alive, and it was her child that died; and now she seeks to rob me of my living child. I pray you, my lord, to judge between us.”

The king thought a little while and then said:

“Bring me a sword,” and they brought him a sword. Then he said:

“Divide the living child in two and give half to the one and half to the other.”

One of the women readily agreed to this, but the mother cried out:

“No! my lord! give her the living child, but in no wise slay it. I would she keep it altogether than to have it dead before my eyes.”

Then Solomon said: “Give this woman the child, for it is hers. Only a mother’s heart can feel such sacrifice.” And he ordered the child given to its true mother.

HOW THE RABBIT GOT ITS COTTON TAIL

_If we desire to avoid trouble we should always do as we are told._

Once upon a time there lived a mother rabbit with her baby rabbit in the midst of a deep forest. Her love was very great for Bunny. She thought that no other rabbit in all the woods had such a straight pretty little tail.

All rabbits had short straight tails then and I suppose they would have been that way until this day had it not been for this foolish little Bunny that I am telling you about.

For a long time he was content to play around the door of his little house, but by and by when he began to feel like a grown-up rabbit, he wanted to go away to Farmer Green’s turnip patch. When his mother shook her head and said “No,” he wrinkled his nose and became a very cross little rabbit.

When night came and his mother had fallen asleep in her bed of warm dried leaves, Bunny crept silently out of the house on his cushioned feet up to the dark world and ran as fast as he could.

Finally he came to a great field and right in the midst he could see the farmer’s house, and on one side the garden. Straight toward this garden he ran at such a pace it did not take him long to reach the fence and find a hole to crawl through. Such a sight he saw! Rows and rows of juicy turnips, and fresh crisp lettuce, and round green cabbages. There was so much that he did not know what to taste first.

All at once in a corner he saw a tiny, house-looking thing with an open door inviting him to come in. Bunny went in and found there a sweet red apple. But he couldn’t come out again! Try as he might, the door would not open. He was in a rabbit trap!

The next morning Farmer Green came and carried poor Bunny to the barn and left him shut up in a large room. By and by the hired man came in and left the door open. Quick as a flash Bunny was out and running through the door. Then down he fell into a tar bucket, sticky and black. There he twisted and turned over and over until he was all covered with tar.

It seemed as if he would never reach the side of the bucket, but finally one black little foot stretched up and he pulled with all his might, till over he went and started to run again. This time he ran straight into a cotton basket full of white cotton. He was certainly a sight now, for the cotton stuck to the tar. For a long time he lay there and rested.

When night came he crept out of the basket and ran home where his poor little frightened mother was crying. You may be sure she hardly knew her son, and she began at once to wash and scrub and scrape him to get off the tar and the cotton. At last he was the same little rabbit again, except for a fluffy little piece of cotton which clung to his tail and still clings there yet. And that is why we call him cotton tail.

LEGEND OF THE WOODPECKER

_In which we see how a well-known bird got its color and habits._

Once there lived an old woman on the edge of a wood far away from anybody. She lived in a little cabin and did all her own work. Nobody ever came to see her because she was cross and mean and selfish, and nobody ever cares to visit a person like that.

She always wore a black dress, a white apron with bows, and a queer little red bonnet on her head. How selfish she was! She could not keep a dog, nor a cat, nor even a bird because she would not feed them. She raised no flowers because she would not spare the water to keep them alive.

One day she was baking some cakes and a poor hungry man came to the door and begged for one. “Please give me one of those cakes you are baking,” said he. “I am very poor and hungry and am weak from tramping so far.” And then the man sat down on the door step while the old woman thought it over.

The old woman broke off a piece of dough and put it into the oven to bake. After it was baked she decided it looked so nice and brown that it was too large to give away. She then broke off a very small piece of dough and put it in the oven to bake. After it was baked it was as nice and large as the other one. At last she broke off a piece as small as a pinhead. After it was baked it was as large and nice as the others.

She looked at the old man and said: “These cakes are too nice to give away,” and then she put the cakes away in the cupboard.

Then she offered the man a piece of bread. The poor man took the crust of bread and disappeared. The woman then felt sorry she had given away even so small a piece of bread and wanted it back again. She said: “I wish I were a bird so I could fly to this man and get my crust of bread back.”

All at once she felt herself growing smaller and smaller. Then she shrank to the size of a bird. She still had on the black dress and the red bonnet. She flew after the man and cried out, “Crust! Crust! My Crust!” But the man could not be found. She looked in the woods, she looked in the chimneys, and she decided he had hidden in a tree. So she began to Tap! Tap! Tap! at every tree she lit on.

She was now no longer a woman but a bird. Her black dress became the body of the bird, her white apron became the white wings, and the red bonnet became the red head of the bird. She is called the red-headed woodpecker.

All day long she knocks at trees. Her head is so hard that it never hurts, no matter how hard she knocks. She is still trying to find her crust of bread. All we know is that when she finds a worm she eats it on the spot and never leaves even a bite for the other birds.

A DISOBEDIENT DICKY BIRD

_Our mothers know what is best for us, and a wise child always obeys._

Three little birds, Fluffy, Chirpie and Dicky, lived in a beautiful nest hung high among the branches of an old oak tree. The father and mother birds were kept very busy every day gathering food for the hungry little mouths that always flew wide open whenever the parent birds came near.

Day by day they grew until they were large enough to take their first trip out of the nest. First they hopped to the edge of the nest, then to the nearest branch, and as they grew stronger they hopped from twig to twig. At last the mother said:

“Now, birdies, it is time for you to fly down and eat sand.” Fluffy and Chirpie flew down and began eating sand, but Dicky said:

“I can’t fly; and I don’t like sand anyway.”

“Oh, but you must eat sand,” said his mother. “Birds have no teeth with which to grind their food, so we must eat sand that it may grind up the food that we eat, such as bugs, worms and seeds. Come, you must eat sand if you would become strong.” But Dicky only cried the louder: “I can’t fly, and I don’t like sand!”

Then the mother went to him and pushed him out of the nest, and he spread his wings and flew to the ground.

“Eat sand and grow strong,” said Chirpie. “How do you know you don’t like it if you won’t taste it?” But foolish Dicky only said: “I won’t eat sand!”

Now, the mother bird had promised that when they had grown strong they should go to the meadow. So one spring morning she told them they might go, though she feared Dicky was not strong enough to go so far. They flew over the fence and through the orchard, and by this time Chirpie and Fluffy were far ahead. Dicky was being left behind. He called loudly: “Wait! wait!” but they were already too far away to hear.

Soon all but Dicky reached the meadow.

“Why, where is Dicky?” exclaimed the mother.

“We left him sitting on the orchard wall,” said Fluffy; “he was too tired to fly. He will not eat sand and the bugs make him sick. He is weak.”

What a fine time they had! Mother showed them how to get the best bugs, worms and seeds; and they bathed in the brook to their hearts’ content. When they had eaten all they could and frolicked all they wished, they looked and saw the great round sun going down in the west, and they knew that night was near. Then they flew back to the dear home tree, and what do you think was the first thing they saw when they reached home? Yes--there was Dicky under the tree eating sand! He wanted to be strong and had found out that he had to do what his mother told him.

ROBERT E. LEE

(January 19th)

_In which it appears that a good boy can become a great man._

Robert E. Lee was born on a beautiful plantation in Virginia. He was a very handsome boy. His father was rich and had many servants, but Robert was not spoiled by all these things. His father and many members of his family had been soldiers. Robert loved to listen to their stories about the battles they had fought for love of their country. He said to himself: “When I am a man I, too, will be a soldier and fight for my country.”

As he listened he learned that a soldier must always do his duty; that means he must do the right thing in the right way at the right time. He learned that a soldier’s duty is always to obey orders, to be brave, to be faithful, and to be tender-hearted.

Day by day this little boy tried to do these things. Was it easy? Oh, no! but soldiers do not hunt for easy things to do. Perhaps sometimes when he had a hard lesson he would rather have gone hunting or drilled with his boy company or played ball, but he did his duty first, and then he played as hard as the other boys. Soon his family, his teachers and boy friends found that Robert could be trusted, in work or play, to do his very best.

When Robert was eleven years old his brave soldier-father died. It was a sad time for him. His brothers were away from home, and his mother was sick. Then Robert showed his faithfulness and tenderness.

Young as he was, he carried the keys to the big store-house and gave out the rations to all the servants on that big plantation. He helped his mother in many other ways. On pleasant mornings he would order out the carriage and leaving his playmates, would take his mother to drive, and tell her all about his work and play to cheer her up.

How his mother loved him! She would often say: “Robert is both son and daughter to me.”

I wonder if the boys teased him sometimes and if he felt like giving up? I think he did, but he knew that soldiers must keep on trying.

With work and study and play the years went by until Robert was eighteen years old, and it was time for him to go to West Point and learn to be a soldier. During the Civil War he became a great general, and was in command of all the soldiers of the Confederate States. He always felt kindly toward his enemies. After the war he said to a lady, “You must train your sons to love all the country, and to be good Americans.” He was one of the greatest soldiers a country has ever had, and a pure hearted, Christian man. That is why we celebrate his birthday.

WHY THE BLUEBIRD CARRIES HAPPINESS

_Service is the source of happiness._

Once there was a little fairy whose name was Good Luck. She was known and loved all over the world because she carried Happiness to every one. This Happiness she carried in an ugly black box, and though it could only hold a tiny bit, it was always full. Now Good Luck had to be very careful of her gift, for if she lost Happiness the world would be very sad.

One night she was very tired. It was very dark and not a star could be seen. So Good Luck had to hunt a place to hide her treasure. She thought perhaps the trees would help her, so she asked a pine tree to hold it while she slept. But he answered: “What, that ugly little box! No, indeed! I have too many pretty cones to hold.”

The tired little fairy hurried on until she came to a fir whom she asked to hold her precious gift. But the fir was too busy and would not bother with it.

Thus each tree gave some excuse. Poor Good Luck was about to cry when she spied a tree whose branches drooped down to the ground. “Will you hold my box, little tree?” she cried.

“My branches bend low,” sighed the little tree sadly, “and I am too ugly to be of much use. I will watch it. Lay it near my trunk.”

Early the next morning Good Luck awoke, and opening her box she sprinkled a tiny bit on the tree. Then she thanked the kind tree and flew away. Later the sun was surprised to find the bent tree straight and its branches reaching up to the skies.

Now, that night a little brown bird came to the branches of that tree. She told him of Good Luck and her box; but she made a mistake and told him it was golden when it was black. This little bird was ugly and the other birds made fun of him. Usually he was too busy helping others to think of himself, but this night he determined to find Good Luck and ask her to give him beautiful plumage like the other birds.

So he started out. One day when he was flying over a brook he saw a fairy caught in a spider’s web. Quickly cutting the threads he put her on his back and carried her away. After putting her down he saw she carried a small black box. The fairy asked him would he carry it for her. “Yes,” said he. Before flying away he asked her if she could tell him where he could find Good Luck and her box.

“I am Good Luck,” answered she, “and you have the box of Happiness on your back--Happiness isn’t always in golden boxes.”

The little bird flew to the brook to see the box, but instead he saw a beautiful bluebird. And that is how the bluebird got his color, and why it is such a happy little bird.

HOW THE LITTLE BIRD REACHED HOME

_The protection of helpless birds is a virtue that should be encouraged._

Surrounded by brick tenement houses where lived the families who worked in the great cotton mill is a little park where the children from the Kindergarten love to go. There in the springtime they watch the butterflies, the rainbow as the sun shines upon the spray of the fountain, the little fishes and frogs in the fountain, and the birds in the trees.

By the fountain stood an old oak tree where two little birds had built a wonderful house. In the body of the tree was the home of a red-headed woodpecker, and at the foot of the tree some dear little squirrels lived, and were very happy.

After a while there were three little baby birds in the nest, and the Kindergarten children were as much excited as the mother and father birds. One day the mother and father bird had flown away to find food for the baby birds, and one little baby bird wished to watch the children playing so happily beneath the tree.

He leaned so far over the edge of the nest that he fell to the ground. Now the little brother and sister birdies in the nest begged him to come back, but he just said: “Twee, twee! I can’t get back to my nest for mother has not taught me to fly, you know.”

The little frogs and fishes in the pond were sorry for him; the woodpecker, and the squirrels and the butterflies were sorry, but the children were more sorry than all the others. The frightened birdie nestled against the trunk of the oak tree. A little boy named Leland, caught the bird and put him in his cap, but the tree was too high for a five-year-old boy to climb. A great gray cat came up waving his tail and thinking what a nice bird dinner he would have. A lame boy offered to watch all the afternoon to keep the cat from catching the bird, but he could not climb a tree, for he had only one leg and had to walk with crutches.

A man in a furniture wagon came to the rescue. He stood upon the high seat and threw the birdie up on the branches, but the bird fell again. A man with a string of fish and a pole on his shoulder was stopped by the children. He took the birdie and put him on the top of his tall fishing pole. The bird held on tight with his little feet. Slowly he raised the fishing rod until the bird was at the edge of the nest, then he hopped in where his brother and sister were waiting for him.

How happy the mother and father birds were when they came home and heard all that had happened! How happy the woodpecker, the frogs, the fish, the squirrels and butterflies were! But the little children were happier than all the rest.

THE JOURNEY OF A DROP OF WATER

_Showing how each single drop plays its part in making the earth fruitful._

In a tiny spring at the foot of a green mossy hill, a merry drop of water once decided to take a journey. “Good-by!” it called to the others, and away it ran, faster and faster until it came to a brook.

Here it had the merriest time running over the shining pebbles, and joining its song to the brook’s as it wound in and out through the forest. It saw the tiny fishes darting here and there, and the dragon flies above. Sometimes the cows came for a long cool drink, and once it passed some children playing on the bank.

It helped to carry the paper sail boats far down the stream, and just as it was thinking how much it would like to turn back to play with the children, the little brook emptied into the river.

Now, it was not so pleasant here for the little drop of water. The river ran too fast and there was not much room to turn about. You see the river had much work to do.

Big boats had to be carried from place to place, and the wheels of the factories had to be turned, and there were many logs to be carried from the timber forests to the saw mills, where there were still other wheels to turn. The river was a very busy place indeed, and every drop had to work.

“Oh, river!” the little drop cried, “please wait for me!” But on the river ran, and by and by the little drop of water was carried into the sea. Here the big waves rolled and tumbled over each other. Farther and farther out it was carried with never a moment to rest. The little drop of water thought the waves were very rough indeed, and wondered if they were never still.

After a while it saw a sunbeam. “Now is my chance,” it thought; “what fun it will be to climb up to the land where the Sun King lives. Good-by, old Ocean; you may roll on without me,” and up and up it climbed until it was too tired to go any higher. Then suddenly it fell off into a cloud and floated through the sky.

After a while the cloud melted and down, down fell the little drop. It was not alone, for hundreds of little raindrops were falling with it. It fell right into the tender leaves of a stalk of corn that was growing in the field. The corn was so grateful that he drank the little drop of water, and let it go down on to its very roots.

But there were others there, too, and so they began to travel under ground until one day they came out from the side of a hill, and splash! the little drop of water was back in the very spring from which it started!

“Why, what a journey I have had!” exclaimed the drop. “I should like to do that again,” and straightway started on its way down the brook. And to this day the little drops of water go down the brooks, and out to sea, and up in the clouds, and down like rain, and they do that over and over again.

HOW WE CAME TO HAVE UMBRELLAS

_It is a wise man that makes provisions against a rainy day._

One morning in April a wee brownie started out for a walk. It was a beautiful day and there was not a cloud in the sky. He put on a brown jerkin and brown breeches, and brown pointed shoes, and a little brown pointed cap, as all brownies should. His clothing was all new and fresh. He carried his basket over his arm, for he had a bit of marketing to do by the way. He skipped along as merry as any brownie could be on a bright, sunny morning in April.

He bought a jar of honey from a wandering bee, and a jar of butter at the buttercup shop. He drank some milk that he got from a milk weed, and then lay down to rest a bit. By and by a squirrel came along and said, “You had better hurry home. It is going to rain.” But the brownie looked at the sky and laughed at the squirrel. By and by a butterfly flew by and said, “You had better hurry home. It is going to rain.” But the brownie laughed again and paid no attention to the butterfly.

When it was time to go home, the brownie started across the fields when he felt a drop on his face. “Bless me! what’s that?” said the brownie. The sunny April day had changed to a showery April day, and it was raining. It is quite bad enough to be a little child out of doors when it is raining, but think of a tiny little brownie with fresh new clothes, and every raindrop as full as a bucket!

He crept under the tallest blades of grass and tried to cover himself, but it was no use. The raindrops fell thicker and faster, and he became more drenched every minute.

At last he saw, just a little way ahead, a fine broad toadstool. That would make a good roof! So he ran as fast as his little legs would carry him to get under the stool.

But some one else needed shelter from the weather, too. The brownie ran straight into a huge doormouse who lay safe and dry under the toadstool.

Poor little brownie! He was frightened. The doormouse looked as large as a bear. But it was warm and dry under the toadstool, and very wet outside. The doormouse did not see him, and kept on the other side of the stalk, just peeping out now and then. The brownie began to tug at the toadstool. It was very heavy. But never mind! Tug--tug--tug--up it came, and off scampered the brownie with the toadstool over his head, and the doormouse was left out in the rain!

By and by a grown-up person with very sharp eyes, saw the brownie, and the grown-up person went off at once and made himself a large toadstool from iron and wood and cloth to hold over his head when it rained. So that is how we came to have umbrellas.

JOHNNY’S RABBIT

_The wild animals have feelings that should be regarded and rights that should be respected._

Johnny had caught a rabbit in his trap. He had intended eating all the rabbits he caught, but this one was so beautiful he just could not eat him, so he built a pen for him and intended keeping him.

Then he went for a stroll in the woods. After walking a long distance he sat down under a tree to rest. Suddenly a black bear and a gray fox appeared in the clearing. They looked very fine and gay as they stood there watching Johnny.

“What shall we do with that bad boy?” asked Mr. Fox of Mr. Bear. “You know so much about everybody’s business, and where every one is, you can go and call all the animals together. Then we’ll decide what is best.”

The fox disappeared and in a short time Johnny began hearing rustling sounds in the bushes about him. Suddenly the clearing was crowded with animals. A big old rabbit with ragged whiskers and long fur frightened him more than the bear or the fox, because he remembered all the rabbits he had caught.

Mr. Bear sat down beside Johnny and cleared his throat.

“This little boy,” he began, “has caught a rabbit, and has put him in a pen. He may kill it and eat it. Now, we don’t know when he may take a gun and come out to shoot us.”

All the animals looked solemnly at Johnny. Mr. Bear went on: “This is his first trip so far into the woods alone. Shall we send him home to his mother?”

Mr. Fox looked at Johnny through his narrow eyes, then said: “Let’s chase him through the woods and see how he likes it; guess that will teach him a lesson.”

Johnny was frightened almost to death and his lips trembled. He looked straight at Mr. Fox, but he didn’t cry. Mr. Bear laid his big paw on Johnny’s shoulder. Then old Mr. Rabbit spoke:

“I don’t think he meant to do us harm. You know he has been a good boy up to this time. Suppose we give him one more chance.”

Most of the animals did not like this idea, but Mr. Bear, the judge, thought it would do. So he dismissed court, and with Mr. Rabbit escorted Johnny to the edge of the woods where they let him go.

Johnny went home and gave the little rabbit some carrots, then filled a basket with cabbages and turnips, and took the basket and the rabbit to the edge of the woods. Off scampered the rabbit and told the other animals about the basket. That night there was a great feast in the woods, and Johnny was much happier than he would have been had he kept the poor little rabbit.

HOW JACK CAME TO HAVE A WINDOW BOX

_A spirit of love and thoughtfulness for others is a means of our own growth in character._

Jack was a little boy who had been sick nearly all his life. He was never able to go into the parks and gardens to see the squirrels and flowers, and play in the sunshine as all other little boys did. All day long he would lie in his little white bed and watch the wind frolic in the tree tops and the sunbeams dance on the floor. And, oh, how he longed to be outside! But he would never let any one know that he was so unhappy because he could not go out and play with the children.

He said to himself, “I know it hurts my mother as much as it does me to see me here in bed all the time. So I must try to be cheerful for her sake. Besides, it will do no good to complain.”

So he was a merry, bright little fellow. All the children loved to come and sit with him. “Hello, Jack,” they would say as they came into his room. “Hello, Bob,” he would answer. “So glad to see you! tell me about the ball game.” And they talked about their sports.

Each day one of his friends would come and bring him a bouquet of flowers, so that his room was always bright and cheerful. He loved the white roses because they were so pure and sweet, but best of all he loved the big yellow daffodils, and always wanted a vase of them right by his bed.

One day when it was almost time for Jack to have a birthday one of Jack’s friends said to all the other little boys:

“Let’s make something nice for Jack’s birthday; something that will make him happy for a long time.”

So the boys thought and thought and talked about it for a long time before they could decide what to give him. But one morning Jack’s best friend called all the boys and said:

“Let’s make a big box to fit right in Jack’s window, and keep flowers planted in it all the year round.”

So the boys got their fathers to help make the box, and they took it to Jack’s room and put it in his window and filled it with rich soft earth. They got some daffodils and planted them about an inch apart. Every day Jack watched for the daffodils to shoot up above the earth. By and by they began to come up, then they grew and grew until at last they began to bloom. The box was a glory of yellow flowers, and Jack was a very happy little boy.

His friends came every day to see them and to talk with Jack.

“I have a beautiful garden,” said Jack; “all filled with golden balls.” And so when he went to bed he told his garden “Good-night!” And when he awoke he smiled at his flowers and said, “Good-morning!” And they smiled back and seemed to know him.

DOROTHY’S DREAM OF HAPPINESS

_Wherein a little girl learns a great lesson in her dreams._

“Mother dear,” said Dorothy, “may I go pick some flowers?”

“Yes, but you must not go far as it is getting late.”

“Very well, mother,” said Dorothy, “I’ll do everything you say,” and off she scampered to pick flowers.

It was a beautiful day in May and all the flowers were in bloom.

“Oh, how I wish I were a flower!” thought Dorothy. “They are such beautiful things and they make so many people happy.”

She walked along as happy as happy could be picking flowers and humming to herself. Presently she sat down to rest, and leaned her head against the trunk of a big tree.

Soon it grew so dark she could not see. She had forgotten that her mother had told her not to go far. She looked all around, but could not see a thing. It was black dark everywhere. Dorothy wondered why it was so dark.

“Oh, dear, what shall I do! there’s no place to go, and I can’t stay here.” She walked on feeling her way among the trees until she saw a light away up on the top of a steep hill. She climbed the hill in the direction of the light until she came to a little house. Out at the gate stood an old, old woman gazing up at the stars.

“Oh, please,” said Dorothy to the old woman, “help me out. I am lost from home and I do wish I could make somebody happy. Do you know how I can do it?”

The old woman thought for a minute before she said:

“Yes, I can turn you into a beautiful daisy, and you can grow here on the hillside, and you will afford somebody happiness.”

“Very well,” said little Dorothy, “that suits me exactly, for I have been wishing I were a flower.”

The next morning when the old woman awoke she went to her window and looked among her flowers, and there was the most beautiful daisy growing among the others.

In a short while an old man passed by and noticed this beautiful daisy.

“Look what a beautiful flower,” said he to himself, “with its golden heart and its silver dress. I will take it to Louise, how happy she will be to see this lovely flower.”

Louise was sick, and when the old man gave her the flower how happy she was! The little flower afforded Louise pleasure until she grew well and strong again.

Just then a call came: “Dorothy, Dorothy, where are you, dear?” Dorothy opened her eyes and answered:

“Here I am, mother, under the big oak tree.” She had only been dreaming. But as she went into the house she said to herself, “I wonder if I need to be turned into a flower to give happiness to others.”

THE PRINCESS LOSES THE FOOT RACE

_If we desire to run in a race we should keep our minds free from all diverting influences._

There was once a king who had a daughter so beautiful that everybody loved her, and all the princes far and near were anxious to marry her. The young princess was not so eager to get married, and so she gave out that she would not marry any man unless he could beat her in a foot race.

She was a very swift runner; nobody had ever beaten her in a race, though many had tried. She could run almost as fast as the wind and could easily outstrip the wild animals in her father’s forests. She announced that anybody might run against her for her hand, but that any one who failed must have his head cut off.

And now the young men came to run with her. There was a race every day and sometimes two, but the young girl always won, and the headsman was ready with his ax to chop off the head of the young man who failed to beat the princess in the race. It looked as if the pile of heads would be as big as a house if it kept on at that rate.

There was a poor young man who heard about the princess and wanted to try his fortune in the race. He was very good looking and a fine runner himself, besides which he had some sense which is of much importance in a race as we shall see.

He gathered a bunch of roses, and had a silken girdle made, and took a bag with a gold ball in it, and knocked at the door of the palace.

“I have come to race with the princess,” he said. “And I am ready now to try my fortune.”

“You will lose your head,” said the princess, “though I hope not,” she added as she looked at the young man.

Well, the race began, and the princess flew on ahead of the young man. He was just behind her and threw the bunch of roses in front of her flying feet. She stopped to pick them up and fasten them in her belt. Then she ran on, overtook the young man and was again ahead of him. This time he threw the girdle in front of her. She stopped to pick that up, too, and to fasten the rose in it. Then she ran on again and overtook the young man and was about to pass him in the race.

He dropped the bag with the gold ball inside. The girl stopped and picked up the bag; she took out the ball and began to play with it. She sat down on the grass and tossed it up and caught it in her fingers, while the young man ran on to the goal.

When he came back to get her she was still playing with the ball, and it seemed to everybody that she did not mind losing the race at all.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST