hum of the two children's voices, as Violet and Peony wrought together
with one happy consent. Violet still seemed to be the guiding spirit;
while Peony acted rather as a laborer and brought her the snow from
far and near. And yet the little urchin evidently had a proper
understanding of the matter.
[Illustration: Violet and Peony wrought together.]
12. "Peony, Peony!" cried Violet; for her brother was at the other
side of the garden. "Bring me those light wreaths of snow that have
rested on the lower branches of the pear tree. You can clamber on the
snowdrift, Peony, and reach them easily. I must have them to make some
ringlets for our snow-sister's head!"
13. "Here they are, Violet!" answered the little boy. "Take care you do
not break them. Well done! Well done! How pretty!"
"Does she not look sweet?" said Violet, with a very satisfied tone;
"and now we must have some little shining bits of ice to make the
brightness of her eyes. She is not finished yet. Mamma will see how
very beautiful she is; but papa will say, 'Tush! nonsense!--come in out
of the cold!'"
14. "Let us call mamma to look out," said Peony; and then he shouted,
"Mamma! mamma!! mamma!!! Look out and see what a nice 'ittle girl we
are making!"
15. "What a nice playmate she will be for us all winter long!" said
Violet. "I hope papa will not be afraid of her giving us a cold! Shan't
you love her dearly, Peony?"
"Oh, yes!" cried Peony. "And I will hug her and she shall sit down
close by me and drink some of my warm milk."
16. "Oh! no, Peony!" answered Violet, with grave wisdom. "That will not
do at all. Warm milk will not be wholesome for our little snow-sister.
Little snow-people, like her, eat nothing but icicles. No, no, Peony;
we must not give her anything warm to drink!"
17. There was a minute or two of silence; for Peony, whose short legs
were never weary, had gone again to the other side of the garden. All
of a sudden, Violet cried out; loudly and joyfully:
18. "Look here, Peony! Come quickly! A light has been shining on her
cheek out of that rose-colored cloud! And the color does not go away!
Is not that beautiful?"
"Yes, it is beau-ti-ful," answered Peony, pronouncing the three
syllables with deliberate accuracy. "O Violet, only look at her hair!
It is all like gold!"
19. "Oh, certainly," said Violet, as if it were very much a matter of
course. "That color, you know, comes from the golden clouds that we
see up there in the sky. She is almost finished now. But her lips must
be made very red--redder than her cheeks. Perhaps, Peony, it will make
them red if we both kiss them!"
[Illustration: "Kiss me!" cried Peony.]
20. Accordingly, the mother heard two smart little smacks, as if both
her children were kissing the snow-image on its frozen mouth. But
as this did not seem to make the lips quite red enough, Violet next
proposed that the snow-child should be invited to kiss Peony's scarlet
cheek.
21. "Come, 'ittle snow-sister, kiss me!" cried Peony.
"There! she has kissed you," added Violet, "and now her lips are very
red. And she blushed a little, too!"
"Oh, what a cold kiss!" cried Peony.
22. Just then there came a breeze of the pure west wind sweeping
through the garden and rattling the parlor windows. It sounded so
wintry cold that the mother was about to tap on the window pane with
her thimbled finger to summon the two children in, when they both
cried out to her with one voice:
23. "Mamma! mamma! We have finished our little snow-sister, and she is
running about the garden with us!"
24. "What imaginative little beings my children are!" thought the
mother, putting the last few stitches into Peony's frock. "And it
is strange, too, that they make me almost as much a child as they
themselves are! I can hardly help believing now that the snow-image has
really come to life!"
"Dear mamma!" cried Violet, "pray look out and see what a sweet
playmate we have!"
III
25. The mother, being thus entreated, could no longer delay to look
forth from the window. The sun was now gone out of the sky, leaving,
however, a rich inheritance of his brightness among those purple and
golden clouds which make the sunsets of winter so magnificent.
26. But there was not the slightest gleam or dazzle, either on the
window or on the snow; so that the good lady could look all over
the garden and see everything and everybody in it. And what do you
think she saw there? Violet and Peony, of course, her own two darling
children.
27. Ah, but whom or what did she see besides? Why, if you will believe
me, there was a small figure of a girl, dressed all in white, with
rose-tinged cheeks and ringlets of golden hue, playing about the garden
with the two children!
28. A stranger though she was, the child seemed to be on as familiar
terms with Violet and Peony, and they with her, as if all the three
had been playmates during the whole of their little lives. The mother
thought to herself that it must certainly be the daughter of one of the
neighbors, and that, seeing Violet and Peony in the garden, the child
had run across the street to play with them.
29. So this kind lady went to the door, intending to invite the little
runaway into her comfortable parlor; for, now that the sunshine was
withdrawn, the atmosphere out of doors was already growing very cold.
30. But, after opening the house door, she stood an instant on the
threshold, hesitating whether she ought to ask the child to come in,
or whether she should even speak to her. Indeed, she almost doubted
whether it were a real child after all, or only a light wreath of the
new-fallen snow, blown hither and thither about the garden by the
intensely cold west wind.
31. There was certainly something very singular in the aspect of
the little stranger. Among all the children of the neighborhood the
lady could remember no such face, with its pure white and delicate
rose-color, and the golden ringlets tossing about the forehead and
cheeks.
32. And as for her dress, which was entirely of white, and fluttering
in the breeze, it was such as no reasonable woman would put upon a
little girl when sending her out to play in the depth of winter. It
made this kind and careful mother shiver only to look at those small
feet, with nothing in the world on them except a very thin pair of
white slippers.
33. Nevertheless, airily as she was clad, the child seemed to feel not
the slightest inconvenience from the cold, but danced so lightly over
the snow that the tips of her toes left hardly a print in its surface;
while Violet could but just keep pace with her, and Peony's short legs
compelled him to lag behind.
34. All this while, the mother stood on the threshold, wondering how
a little girl could look so much like a flying snowdrift, or how a
snowdrift could look so very like a little girl.
She called Violet and whispered to her.
"Violet, my darling, what is this child's name?" asked she. "Does she
live near us?"
35. "Why, dearest mamma," answered Violet, laughing to think that her
mother did not comprehend so very plain an affair, "this is our little
snow-sister whom we have just been making!"
"Yes, dear mamma," cried Peony, running to his mother and looking up
simply into her face. "This is our snow-image! Is it not a nice 'ittle
child?"
36. "Violet," said her mother, greatly perplexed, "tell me the truth
without any jest. Who is this little girl?"
"My darling mamma," answered Violet, looking seriously into her
mother's face," surprised that she should need any further explanation,
"I have told you truly who she is. It is our little snow-image which
Peony and I have been making. Peony will tell you so, as well as I."
37. "Yes, mamma," asseverated Peony, with much gravity in his crimson
little phiz; "this is 'ittle snow-child. Is not she a nice one? But,
mamma, her hand is, oh, so very cold!"
IV
38. While mamma still hesitated what to think and what to do, the
street gate was thrown open and the father of Violet and Peony
appeared, wrapped in a pilot-cloth sack, with a fur cap drawn down over
his ears, and the thickest of gloves upon his hands.
39. Mr. Lindsey was a middle-aged man, with a weary and yet a happy
look in his wind-flushed and frost-pinched face, as if he had been busy
all the day long and was glad to get back to his quiet home. His eyes
brightened at the sight of his wife and children, although he could not
help uttering a word or two of surprise at finding the whole family in
the open air on so bleak a day, and after sunset, too.
40. He soon perceived the little white stranger, sporting to and fro
in the garden like a dancing snow-wreath, and the flock of snowbirds
fluttering about her head.
"Pray, what little girl may that be?" inquired this very sensible man.
"Surely her mother must be crazy to let her go out in such bitter
weather as it has been to-day, with only that flimsy white gown and
those thin slippers!"
41. "My dear husband," said his wife, "I know no more about the little
thing than you do. Some neighbor's child, I suppose. Our Violet and
Peony," she added, laughing at herself for repeating so absurd a story,
"insist that she is nothing but a snow-image which they have been busy
about in the garden almost all the afternoon."
42. As she said this, the mother glanced her eyes toward the spot where
the children's snow-image had been made. What was her surprise on
perceiving that there was not the slightest trace of so much labor!--no
image at all!--no piled-up heap of snow!--nothing whatever save the
prints of little footsteps around a vacant space!
43. "This is very strange!" said she.
"What is strange, dear mother?" asked Violet. "Dear father, do not you
see how it is? This is our snow-image, which Peony and I have made
because we wanted another playmate. Did not we, Peony?"
"Yes, papa," said crimson Peony. "This be our 'ittle snow-sister. Is
she not beau-ti-ful? But she gave me such a cold kiss!"
44. "Poh, nonsense, children!" cried their good, honest father, who had
an exceedingly common-sensible way of looking at matters. "Do not tell
me of making live figures out of snow. Come, wife; this little stranger
must not stay out in the bleak air a moment longer. We will bring her
into the parlor; and you shall give her a supper of warm bread and
milk, and make her as comfortable as you can."
45. So saying, this honest and very kindhearted man was going toward
the little white damsel, with the best intentions in the world. But
Violet and Peony, each seizing their father by the hand, earnestly
besought him not to make her come in.
46. "Nonsense, children, nonsense, nonsense!" cried the father,
half-vexed, half-laughing. "Run into the house, this moment! It is
too late to play any longer now. I must take care of this little girl
immediately, or she will catch her death-a-cold!"
And so, with a most benevolent smile, this very well-meaning gentleman
took the snow-child by the hand and led her toward the house.
[Illustration: He took the snow-child by the hand.]
47. She followed him, droopingly and reluctant, for all the glow and
sparkle were gone out of her figure; and whereas just before she had
resembled a bright, frosty, star-gemmed evening, with a crimson gleam
on the cold horizon, she now looked as dull and languid as a thaw.
48. As kind Mr. Lindsey led her up the steps of the door, Violet and
Peony looked into his face, their eyes full of tears, which froze
before they could run down their cheeks, and entreated him not to bring
their snow-image into the house.
49. "Not bring her in!" exclaimed the kindhearted man. "Why, you are
crazy, my little Violet--quite crazy, my small Peony! She is so cold
already that her hand has almost frozen mine, in spite of my thick
gloves. Would you have her freeze to death?"
V
50. His wife, as he came up the steps, had been taking another long,
earnest gaze at the little white stranger. She hardly knew whether
it was a dream or no; but she could not help fancying that she saw
the delicate print of Violet's fingers on the child's neck. It looked
just as if, while Violet was shaping out the image, she had given it a
gentle pat with her hand, and had neglected to smooth the impression
quite away.
51. "After all, husband," said the mother, "after all, she does look
strangely like a snow-image! I do believe she is made of snow!"
A puff of the west wind blew against the snow-child, and again she
sparkled like a star.
52. "Snow!" repeated good Mr. Lindsey, drawing the reluctant guest
over his hospitable threshold. "No wonder she looks like snow. She is
half frozen, poor little thing! But a good fire will put everything to
rights."
53. The common-sensible man placed the snow-child on the hearthrug,
right in front of the hissing and fuming stove.
"Now she will be comfortable!" cried Mr. Lindsey, rubbing his hands
and looking about him, with the pleasantest smile you ever saw. "Make
yourself at home, my child."
54. Sad, sad and drooping looked the little white maiden as she stood
on the hearthrug, with the hot blast of the stove striking through her
like a pestilence. Once she threw a glance toward the window, and
caught a glimpse, through its red curtains, of the snow-covered roofs
and the stars glimmering frostily and all the delicious intensity of
the cold night. The bleak wind rattled the window panes as if it were
summoning her to come forth. But there stood the snow-child, drooping,
before the hot stove!
55. But the common-sensible man saw nothing amiss.
"Come, wife," said he, "let her have a pair of thick stockings and a
woolen shawl or blanket directly; and tell Dora to give her some warm
supper as soon as the milk boils. You, Violet and Peony, amuse your
little friend. She is out of spirits, you see, at finding herself in a
strange place. For my part, I will go around among the neighbors and
find out where she belongs."
56. The mother, meanwhile, had gone in search of the shawl and
stockings. Without heeding the remonstrances of his two children, who
still kept murmuring that their little snow-sister did not love the
warmth, good Mr. Lindsey took his departure, shutting the parlor door
carefully behind him.
57. Turning up the collar of his sack over his ears, he emerged from
the house, and had barely reached the street-gate when he was recalled
by the screams of Violet and Peony and the rapping of a thimbled finger
against the parlor window.
58. "Husband! husband!" cried his wife, showing her horror-stricken
face through the window panes. "There is no need of going for the
child's parents!"
"We told you so, father!" screamed Violet and Peony, as he
reëntered the parlor. "You would bring her in; and now our
poor--dear--beau-ti-ful little snow-sister is thawed!"
59. And their own sweet little faces were already dissolved in tears;
so that their father, seeing what strange things occasionally happen
in this everyday world, felt not a little anxious lest his children
might be going to thaw, too. In the utmost perplexity, he demanded an
explanation of his wife.
60. She could only reply that, being summoned to the parlor by the
cries of Violet and Peony, she found no trace of the little white
maiden, unless it were the remains of a heap of snow which, while she
was gazing at it, melted quite away upon the hearthrug.
"And there you see all that is left of it!" added she, pointing to a
pool of water in front of the stove.
61. "Yes, father," said Violet, looking reproachfully at him through
her tears, "there is all that is left of our dear little snow-sister!"
"Naughty father!" cried Peony, stamping his foot, and--I shudder to
say--shaking his little fist at the common-sensible man. "We told you
how it would be. What for did you bring her in?"
62. And the stove, through the isinglass of its door, seemed to glare
at good Mr. Lindsey, like a red-eyed demon triumphing in the mischief
which it had done!
* * * * *
I. =Rŭd´dĭ nĕs=_s_: redness. =Phiz=: face. =Săl´lĭ_e_d=: ran out.
=Ē̍ mẽrġ_e_d´=: came out.
II. _W_=rô_ugh_t=: worked. =Ûr´chĭn=: a little boy.
=Dē̍ lĭb´ẽr ā̍t_e_=: slow and careful. =Ăc´cū̍ rȧ çy̆=:
correctness. =Ĭm ăġ´ĭ nȧ tĭv_e_=: full of fancies.
III. =Ĭn hĕr´ĭt anç_e_=: possession. =At´mos phere=:
air. =T̶hĭth´ẽr=: to this place. =Ăs´pĕct=: appearance;
look. =Cŏm pĕl_l_ed´=: forced; obliged. =Lăg=: go slowly.
=Cŏm prē̍ hĕnd´=: understand. =Ăs sĕv´ẽr āt ĕd=: said earnestly.
IV. =Pilot-cloth sack=: a coat made of coarse dark blue cloth,
such as pilots wear. =Flĭm´s̝y=: thin. =Bē̍ nĕv´ō̍ lent=: kind.
=Rē̍ lŭc´tant=: unwilling.
V. =Pĕs´tĭ lenç_e_=: the plague; a deadly disease.
=Rē̍ mŏn´stranç ĕs̝=: objections. =Glâre=: stare; look fiercely.
* * * * *
Little, happy, rich, kind, strange, diligent, polite, strong,
lifeless, lazy.
Name words having similar meaning: as, little, small.
Name words having opposite meaning: as, little, large.
* * * * *
Speak clearly if you speak at all;
Carve every word before you let it fall.
HOLMES
Little by Little
1. Low on the ground an acorn lies--
Little by little it mounts to the skies,
Shadow and shelter for wandering herds,
Home for a hundred singing birds.
Little by little the great rocks grew,
Long, long ago, when the world was new;
Slowly and silently, stately and free,
Cities of coral under the sea
Little by little are builded, while so
The new years come and the old years go.
2. Little by little all tasks are done;
So are the crowns of the faithful won,
So is heaven in our hearts begun.
With work and with weeping, with laughter and play,
Little by little the longest day
And the longest life are passing away--
Passing without return, while so
The new years come and the old years go.
The House I Live In
I
1. This wonderful body of mine is the house in which I live. This house
has five gates, through which messages from the outside world can get
to me. There is Eye Gate, Ear Gate, Nose Gate, Taste Gate, and Touch
Gate. All my knowledge of the things around me comes in through these
five gates.
2. This house of mine has, in its lower story, a kitchen called the
stomach. Here the food is cooked, or "digested," as we say, and
prepared for being mixed with the blood. In the story above there is a
great pump, the heart, which sends the blood through the house to keep
it warm and in good repair.
Then, in the top story, or the head, is the room where the master or
mistress of the house lives.
3. We should learn all we can about this house and what to do to keep
it in good order. We should find out what is bad for it and what is
good, that we may avoid the one and seek the other. Thus we may hope to
grow up strong and healthy men and women. Good health will cheer us and
make all our work easy and pleasant.
[Illustration: A section of skin]
4. The first lesson on health that I have to learn is this: _I must
keep my body clean_. Much of the dirt that gathers on the body comes,
not from the outside, but from the inside of the body. The skin is full
of little pores. These pores are the mouths of tiny pipes, or tubes,
millions of which are found in the skin.
5. You can see them in this picture, which shows a little bit of the
skin, cut through from the inside to the outside and very much enlarged.
It is through these tubes that the body rids itself of many waste
substances which would prove very harmful if retained. When their
outlets become choked up with dirt, nothing can pass through them. You
see, therefore, how necessary it is to keep the skin clean if we wish
to have good health.
6. Once upon a time a great man was coming to visit a certain town. The
people went out to meet him, clad in gay and curious dresses so as to
do honor to their noble visitor. One little boy was covered all over
with thin leaves of gold, so that he might look like a golden boy.
7. No doubt he looked very pretty, but he became ill and died before
the gilding could be removed All the pores of his skin were closed up
by the gold; and it soon caused his death.
8. In Holland there is a village which is said to be the cleanest in
the world. The houses, inside and outside, the streets, and everything
about the place, are kept neat as a pin. Women wearing clumsy wooden
shoes may be seen scrubbing the houses and pavements.
9. We should be like these Dutch people and keep our wonderful house,
the body, clean. It is only by frequently washing the whole body that
we can keep in good health.
[Illustration: The cleanest village in the world]
Water and soap are all that are needed to keep the skin clean and ready
for its work, and every one can get these.
II
10. The second health lesson I have to learn is this: _I must breathe
fresh air_. If a man cannot get air to breathe, he will die. But that
is not all: impure air is bad for him.
11. Why do we need to breathe at all?
Because the air contains a gas called oxygen, and a constant supply of
this gas must be taken into the blood, or else we cannot remain in good
health. When we breathe, the air passes down into the lungs and there
meets with the blood.
12. And as the oxygen gas passes inwards, another gas, which has to be
got rid of, passes outwards and is breathed out into the air. Thus the
air we breathe out is different from the air we breathe in. It has lost
the gas which is necessary for our life and health, and it contains a
gas which is hurtful to us.
13. If I live in a room that does not get fresh air, the air in it will
soon become close and bad, because every time I breathe I take some of
the oxygen out of it and put injurious gas in its place.
14. If a small animal, such as a bird or a rabbit, is put under a glass
bell so that no air can get in, it uses up all the oxygen. In a few
minutes it becomes faint; it is unable to stand up, and unless it gets
fresh air it will soon die.
15. You may have heard the story of the Black Hole of Calcutta. One
hundred and forty-six English prisoners were shut up in a small cell.
They could not get enough fresh air to breathe, and in the morning one
hundred and twenty-three of them were found dead.
III
16. The third health lesson I have to learn is this: _I must take
plenty of exercise_. To make the body strong we must use it. The parts
that are most used become the strongest, and those used least will be
the weakest.
17. The arms of the blacksmith are very strong because he uses them
so much. The boy who works and plays in the open air grows strong
and healthy, but the boy who sits indoors and does not take exercise
often grows up to be a weak and unhealthy man. It is best to take our
exercise in the open air and the sunlight.
[Illustration: The king and the dervish]
18. Games like baseball are good for boys. There are also plenty of
pleasant outdoor games for girls. When no game can be played, a brisk
walk in the open air is quite as good. Brisk walking is one of the
easiest and best of exercises for both boys and girls.
19. But there are some things we should avoid when taking exercise. We
should not work or play too long without resting. We should not try to
do things that are beyond our strength. When exercise is too violent,
it does harm rather than good.
20. An eastern king, who had become pale and ill, asked a wise dervish
what medicine he should take.
The dervish, knowing that it was exercise alone which the idle king
needed, said: "I will bring you to-morrow a remedy which will cure your
disease."
21. The next day the dervish appeared before the king.
"Here," said he, "is a ball which holds the medicine that will cure
you. Take it into your garden every day and knock it about till you
perspire freely. This will make the medicine take effect."
The king did as the dervish told him, and the exercise in the fresh air
soon made him well.
* * * * *
Ball, door, sun, cold, church, odor, milk, bitterness, bell, town,
nose, honesty, rose, industry, gold, red, heat, leather, mud, joy.
Tell which of these words name things that you can (1) see, (2)
hear, (3) touch, (4) taste, (5) smell. Which name things of which
you can only think?
* * * * *
Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,
As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
DRYDEN
Jefferson's Ten Rules
Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826): An American statesman. He wrote the
Declaration of Independence and was one of the able men at the
head of the government of the United States in its early days.
Jefferson was the originator of what is called the Democratic idea
of government.
Never put off until to-morrow what you can do to-day.
Never trouble another for what you can do yourself.
Never spend your money before you have earned it.
Never buy what you don't want because it is cheap.
Pride costs more than hunger, thirst, and cold.