ONE AFTERNOON

 
Papa and Mamma went out to row,
And left us alone at home, you know, —
Roderick, James and me.
“My dears,” they said, “now play with your toys
Like dear little, good little, sweet little boys,
And we will come home to tea.”
 
 
We played with our toys the longest while!
We built up the blocks for nearly a mile, —
Roderick, James and I.
But when they came tumbling down, alas!
They fell right against the looking-glass, —
Oh! how the pieces did fly!
 
 
Then we played the stairs were an Alpine peak,
And down we slid with shout and with shriek, —
Roderick, I and James.
But Jim caught his jacket upon a tack,
And I burst the buttons all off my back,
And Roderick called us names.
 
 
Then we found a pillow that had a rip,
And all the feathers we out did slip, —
Roderick, James and I.
And we made a snowstorm, a glorious one,
All over the room. Oh! wasn’t it fun,
As the feathery flakes did fly!
 
 
But just as the storm was raging around,
Papa and Mamma came in, and found
Roderick, James and me.
Oh! terrible, terrible things they said!
And they put us all three right straight to bed,
With the empty pillow-case under our head,
And none of us had any tea!
 

THE STOVE

Betty has a real stove, just as real as the one in the kitchen, if it is not quite so big. It has pots and kettles and a frying-pan, and a soup-pot, and the oven bakes beautifully, and it is just lovely! I went to spend the afternoon with her yesterday, and we cooked all the time, except when we were eating. First, we made soup in the soup-pot, with some pieces of cold goose, and we took some to Auntie (she is Betty’s mother), and she said it was de-licious, and took two cups of it. (They were doll’s cups; Betty says I ought to put that in, but I don’t see any need.) Then we made scrambled egg and porridge, and baked some custard in the oven, and it was just exactly like a big custard in the big cups at home. The cake was queer, so I won’t stop to tell about that, though Rover ate most of it, and the rest we crumbled up for the pigeons, so it wasn’t wasted; but the best of all was the griddle-cakes. Oh, they were splendid! The griddle is just the right size for one, so they were as round as pennies, and about the same size; and we had maple syrup on them, and Maggie the cook said she was so jealous (she called it “jellies”) that she should go straight back to Ireland; but I don’t believe she will. I don’t feel very well to-day, and Betty wasn’t at school, either. But I don’t think it had anything to do with the griddle-cakes, and I am going to play with Betty again to-morrow, – if Mamma will let me.

JOHN’S SISTER

 
What! no elder sister?
I wouldn’t be you!
Who buttons your jacket?
Who ties up your shoe?
 
 
Who gives you a boost
When you climb a tree?
Who bathes your bumps,
As kind as can be?
 
 
Who guided your oar
The first time you paddled?
Who blows your bird’s eggs,
E’en when they’re addled?
 
 
Who sets your moths,
Your butterflies, too?
Who mops up the floor
When you spill the glue?
 
 
Who makes you taffy?
(I tell you it’s fine!)
Who baits your hook,
Untangles your line?
 
 
Who takes out your splinters,
All in a minute?
Who tells you stories,
And sings like a linnet?
 
 
No sister! I pity you,
Truly I do.
And oh! for a whole farm
I wouldn’t be you.
 

NEW YEAR SONG

 
“New Year, true year,
What now are you bringing?
May-day skies and butterflies,
And merry birds a-singing?
Frolic, play, all the day,
Not an hour of school?”
But the merry echo,
The laughing New Year echo,
Only answered, “School!”
 
 
“New Year, true year,
What now are you bringing?
Summer roses springing gay,
Summer vines a-swinging?
Jest and sport, the merriest sort,
Never a thought of work?”
But the merry echo,
The laughing New Year echo,
Only answered, “Work!”
 
 
“New year, true year,
What now are you bringing?
Autumn fruits all fire-ripe,
Autumn horns a-ringing?
Keen delight o’ moonlight nights,
When dull folks are abed?”
But the merry echo,
The laughing New-Year echo,
Only answered, “Bed!”
 

WHAT WAS HER NAME?

“Wake up!” said an old gentleman, dressed in brown and white, as he gently shook the shoulder of a young lady in green, who was lying sound asleep under the trees. “Wake up, ma’am! it is your watch now, and time for me to take myself off.”

The young lady stirred a very little, and opened one of her eyes the least little bit. “Who are you?” she said, drowsily. “What is your name?”

“My name is Winter,” replied the old man. “What is yours?”

“I have not the faintest idea,” said the lady, closing her eyes again.

“Humph!” growled the old man, “a pretty person you are to take my place! Well, good-day, Madam Sleepyhead, and good luck to you!”

And off he stumped over the dead leaves, which crackled and rustled beneath his feet.

As soon as he was gone, the young lady in green opened her eyes in good earnest and looked about her.

“Madam Sleepyhead, indeed!” she re-echoed, indignantly. “I am sure that is not my name, anyhow. The question is, What is it?”

She looked about her again, but nothing was to be seen save the bare branches of the trees, and the dead, brown leaves and dry moss underfoot.

“Trees, do you happen to know what my name is?” she asked.

The trees shook their heads. “No, ma’am,” they said, “we do not know; but perhaps when the Wind comes, he will be able to give you some information.”

The girl shivered a little, and drew her green mantle about her and waited.

By and by the Wind came blustering along. He caught the trees by their branches, and shook them in rough, though friendly greeting.

“Well, boys!” he shouted, “Old Winter is gone, is he? I wish you joy of his departure! But where is the lady who was coming to take his place?”

“She is here,” answered the trees, “sitting on the ground; but she does not know her own name, which seems to trouble her.”

“Ho! ho!” roared the Wind. “Not know her own name? That is news, indeed! And here she has been sleeping, while all the world has been looking for her, and calling her, and wondering where upon earth she was. Come, young lady,” he added, addressing the girl with rough courtesy, “I will show you the way to your dressing-room, which has been ready and waiting for you for a fortnight and more.”

So he led the way through the forest, and the girl followed, rubbing her pretty, sleepy eyes, and dragging her mantle behind her.

Now it was a very singular thing that whatever the green mantle touched, instantly turned green itself. The brown moss put out little tufts of emerald velvet, fresh shoots came pushing up from the dead, dry grass, and even the shrubs and twigs against which the edges of the garment brushed broke out with tiny swelling buds, all ready to open into leaves.

By and by the Wind paused and pushed aside the branches, which made a close screen before him.

“Here is your dressing-room, young madam,” he said, with a low bow; “be pleased to enter it, and you will find all things in readiness. But let me entreat you to make your toilet speedily, for all the world is waiting for you.”

Greatly wondering, the young girl passed through the screen of branches, and found herself in a most marvellous place.

The ground was carpeted with pine-needles, soft and thick and brown. The pine-trees made a dense green wall around, and as the wind passed softly through the boughs, the air was sweet with their spicy fragrance. On the ground were piled great heaps of buds, all ready to blossom; violets, anemones, hepaticas, blood-root, while from under a huge pile of brown leaves peeped the pale pink buds of the Mayflower.

The young girl in the green mantle looked wonderingly at all these things. “How strange!” she said. “They are all asleep, and waiting for some one to waken them. Perhaps if I do it, they will tell me in return what my name is.”

She shook the buds lightly, and lo! every blossom opened its eyes and raised its head, and said, “Welcome, gracious lady! welcome! We have looked for you long, long!”

The young girl, in delight, took the lovely blossoms, rosy and purple, golden and white, and twined them in her fair locks, and hung them in garlands round her white neck; and still they were opening by thousands, till the pine-tree hollow was filled with them.

Presently the girl spied a beautiful carved casket, which had been hidden under a pile of spicy leaves, and from inside of it came a rustling sound, the softest sound that was ever heard.

She lifted the lid, and out flew a cloud of butterflies.

Rainbow-tinted, softly, glitteringly, gayly fluttering, out they flew by thousands and thousands, and hovered about the maiden’s head; and the soft sound of their wings, which mortal ears are too dull to hear, seemed to say, “Welcome! welcome!”

At the same moment a great flock of beautiful birds came, flying, and lighted on the branches all around, and they, too, sang, “Welcome! welcome!”

The maiden clasped her hands and cried, “Why are you all so glad to see me? I feel – I know – that you are all mine, and I am yours; but how is it? Who am I? What is my name?”

And birds and flowers and rainbow-hued butterflies and sombre pine-trees all answered in joyous chorus, “Spring! the beautiful, the long-expected! Hail to the maiden Spring!”

A LESSON SONG

 
Bow down, green Forest, so fair and good,
Bow down, green Forest, and give us wood!
The forest gives us tables,
The forest gives us chairs,
The bureau and the sideboard,
The flooring and the stairs;
The ships that skim the ocean,
The cars in which we ride,
The crib in which the baby sleeps,
Drawn close to mother’s side.
Bow down, green Forest, so fair and good,
Bow down, green Forest, and give us wood!
 
 
Give up, ye Mines, so dark and deep,
Give up the treasure that close ye keep!
The mines are dug
In the earth so deep,
’Tis there that silver
And gold do sleep.
Copper and iron,
And diamonds fine,
Coal, tin and rubies,
All come from the mine,
Give up, ye Mines, so dark and deep,
Give up the treasure that close ye keep!
 
 
O Sea, with billows so bright, so blue!
Full many a gift we ask of you:
Corals, yes, and sponges,
Clams and oysters, too,
And the radiant pearl-drop
The oyster hides from view.
The fish we eat for dinner,
The shells upon the shore,
The whalebone for our mother’s gown,
All these and many more.
O Sea, with billows so bright, so blue!
Full many a gift we ask of you.
 
 
Ye broad, green Meadows, so fresh and fair,
Oh, ye have many a treasure rare!
Flowers the loveliest,
Barley and corn,
Oats, wheat and clover tops,
Berry and thorn;
Grass for the flocks and herds,
Herbs for the sick;
Rice, too, and cotton,
The darkies do pick.
Ye broad, green Meadows, so fresh and fair,
Oh, ye have many a treasure rare!
 
 
So earth and air, so land and sea
Give kindly gifts to you and me.
Should we not be merry,
Gentle, too, and mild?
Then the whole wide earth doth wait
On each little child.
Should we not, in quiet,
At our mother’s knee,
Praise our Heavenly Father,
Thank Him lovingly, —
Since earth and air, and land and sea
Give kindly gifts to you and me?
Since earth and air, and sea and land,
Come from our Heavenly Father’s hand?
 

THE PATIENT CAT

When the spotted cat first found the nest, there was nothing in it, for it was only just finished. So she said, “I will wait!” for she was a patient cat, and the summer was before her. She waited a week, and then she climbed up again to the top of the tree, and peeped into the nest. There lay two lovely blue eggs, smooth and shining.

The spotted cat said, “Eggs may be good, but young birds are better. I will wait.” So she waited; and while she was waiting, she caught mice and rats, and washed herself and slept, and did all that a spotted cat should do to pass the time away.

When another week had passed, she climbed the tree again and peeped into the nest. This time there were five eggs. But the spotted cat said again, “Eggs may be good, but young birds are better. I will wait a little longer!”

So she waited a little longer and then went up again to look. Ah! there were five tiny birds, with big eyes and long necks, and yellow beaks wide open. Then the spotted cat sat down on the branch, and licked her nose and purred, for she was very happy. “It is worth while to be patient!” she said.

But when she looked again at the young birds, to see which one she should take first, she saw that they were very thin, – oh, very, very thin they were! The spotted cat had never seen anything so thin in her life.

“Now,” she said to herself, “if I were to wait only a few days longer, they would grow fat. Thin birds may be good, but fat birds are much better. I will wait!”

So she waited; and she watched the father-bird bringing worms all day long to the nest, and said, “Aha! they must be fattening fast! they will soon be as fat as I wish them to be. Aha! what a good thing it is to be patient.”

At last, one day she thought, “Surely, now they must be fat enough! I will not wait another day. Aha! how good they will be!”

So she climbed up the tree, licking her chops all the way and thinking of the fat young birds. And when she reached the top and looked into the nest, it was empty!!

Then the spotted cat sat down on the branch and spoke thus, “Well, of all the horrid, mean, ungrateful creatures I ever saw, those birds are the horridest, and the meanest, and the most ungrateful! Mi-a-u-ow!!!!”

MATHEMATICS

 
I studied my arithmetic,
And then I went to bed,
And on my little pillow white
Laid down my little head.
 
 
I hoped for dreams of dear delight,
Of sugar-candy bliss;
But oh! my sleep, the livelong night,
Was filled with things like this.
 
 
Add forty jars of damson jam
To fifty loaves of cake,
Subtract a cow, and tell me how
Much butter it will make.
 
 
Then add the butter to the jam,
And give it to a boy,
How long will ’t take ere grievous ache
Shall dash his childish joy?
 
 
If twenty men stole thirty sheep
And sold them to the Pope,
What would they get if he should let
Them have the price in soap?
 
 
And if he slew each guileless beast,
And in pontific glee
Sold leg and loin for Roman coin,
What would his earnings be?
 
 
Next, if a Tiger climbed a tree
To get a cocoanut,
And if by hap the feline chap
Should find the shop was shut;
 
 
And if ten crabs with clawing dabs
Should pinch his Bengal toes,
What would remain when he should gain
The ground, do you suppose?
 
 
Divide a stick of licorice
By twenty infant jaws,
How long must each lose power of speech
In masticating pause?
 
 
And if these things are asked of you,
While you’re a-chewing of it,
What sum of birch, rod, pole or perch
Will be your smarting profit?
 
 
I woke upon my little bed
In anguish and in pain.
I’d sooner lose my brand-new shoes
Than dream those dreams again.
 
 
Oh! girls and boys, who crave the joys
Of slumber calm and deep,
Away then kick your ’rithmetic
Before you go to sleep!
 

BY THE FADING LIGHT

There was only one chapter more to finish the book. Bell did want very much indeed to finish it, and to make sure that the princess got out of the enchanted wood all right, and that the golden prince met her, riding on a jet-black charger and leading a snow-white palfrey with a silver saddle for her, as the fairy had promised he would.

She did want to finish it, and it seemed very hard that she should be interrupted every minute.

First it was dear Mamma calling for a glass of water from her sofa in the next room, and of course Bell sprang with alacrity to answer that call.

But then baby came, with a scratched finger to be tied up, and then Willy boy wanted some more tail for his kite, and he could not find any paper, and his string had got all tangled up.

Then came little Carrie, and she had no buttons small enough for her dolly’s frock, and did sister think she had any in her work-basket?

So sister looked, and Carrie looked, too, and between them they upset the basket, and the spools rolled over the floor and under the chairs, as if they were playing a game; and the gray kitten caught her best spool of gold-colored floss, and had a delightful time with it, and got it all mixed up with her claws so that she couldn’t help herself, and Bell had to cut off yards and yards of the silk.

At last it was settled, and the little girl supplied with buttons, and Bell sank back again on the window-seat, so glad that she hadn’t been impatient, and had seen how funny the kitten looked, so that she could laugh instead of scold about the silk.

“And when the golden prince saw the Princess Merveille, he took her hand and kissed it, for it was like the purest ivory and delicately shaped. And he said – ”

Tinkle! tinkle! went the door-bell, and Bell, with a long sigh, laid down the book and went to the door, for Mary was out. It was old Mr. Grimshaw.

“Good-day, miss!” he said, with old-fashioned courtesy, “I have come to borrow the third volume of ‘Paley’s Evidences.’ I met your worthy father, and he was good enough to say that you would find the book for me. I am of the opinion that he mentioned the right-hand corner of the third shelf in some bookcase; I do not rightly remember in which room.”

Bell showed the old gentleman into the study and brought him a chair, and looked in the right-hand corners of all the shelves; then she looked in the left-hand corners; then she looked in the middle; then she looked on Papa’s desk, and in it and under it.

Then she looked on the mantel-piece, and in the cupboard, and in the chairs, for there was no knowing where dear Papa would put a book down when his thinking-cap was on. All the time Mr. Grimshaw was delivering a lecture on Paley, and telling her on what points he disagreed with him, and why; and Bell felt as if a teetotum were going round and round inside her head.

At last, in lifting Papa’s dressing-gown, which hung on the back of a chair, she felt something square and heavy in one of the pockets; and —there was the third volume of “Paley’s Evidences.”

She handed it to Mr. Grimshaw with her prettiest smile, and he went away thinking she was a very nice, well-mannered little girl.

And so she was; but – oh dear! when she got back to the window-seat the daylight was nearly gone.

Still, the west was very bright, and perhaps she could just find out.

“And he said, ‘Princess, my heart is yours! Therefore, I pray you, accept my hand, also, and with it my kingdom of Grendalma, which stretches from sea to sea. Ivory palaces shall be yours, and thrones of gold; mantles of peacock feathers, with many chests of precious stones.’ So the princess – ”

“Bell!” called Mamma from the next room. “It is too late to read, dear! Blindman’s Holiday, you know, is the most dangerous time for the eyes. So shut the book, like a dear daughter!”

Bell shut the book, of course; but a cloud came over her pleasant face, and two little cross sticks began beating a tattoo on her heart.

Just at that moment came voices under the window, – Carrie and Willy boy, talking earnestly. “Would a princess be very pretty, do you suppose, Willy? prettier than Bell?”

“Ho!” said Willy, “who cares for ‘pretty?’ She wouldn’t be half so nice as Bell. Why, none of the other fellows’ sisters – ”

They passed out of hearing; and even so the cloud passed away from Bell’s brow, and she jumped up and shook her head at herself, and ran to give Mamma a kiss, and ask if she would like her tea.