the happiest dog in the world when at last he reached Chautauqua. When
once he was there he had many fine times, bathing in the Lake, going off
on long walks and drives with the family, and playing with the dogs.
The house in which Aunt Jean lived was very near the lake, and Stiggins
liked to lie on the front porch and watch the children at play by the
water's edge. One day, Harry and Sally were there with a small sail-boat
attached to a string, which Harry held, as the boat sailed out on the
water. Suddenly the string broke, and then there was nothing with which
to draw the boat to land.
The children were quite small and did not know what to do. They asked a
big boy to wade out and return the boat to them, but he was a lazy boy
and told them to throw stones beyond the boat to make it come back of
itself. They tried his plan, but were not strong enough to throw the
stones very far, and the boat only floated further away.
All this time Stiggins had been lying on the porch watching the
children. I am not sure whether he thought they were throwing stones
for him to swim after, or whether he saw they were in trouble and wished
to help them, but this is what he did. Without a word from anyone, he
jumped up, trotted down to the water and waded in. The children and the
big boy wondered what he meant to do. Stiggins himself seemed to know
very well. He swam straight to the boat, caught it in his mouth, brought
it to land, and dropped it at the children's feet. Then he trotted back
to the porch.
Harry and Sally thought that Stiggins was the kindest and most polite
dog they had ever seen, and the big boy was ashamed, because he thought
that a dog had been kinder and more polite than he.
This story is as true as true can be. I know, because Aunt Jean saw the
whole affair and she told me about it herself.
* * * * *
When Johnnie Jones was a Santa Claus
"I should think it would be exciting to be Santa Claus," said Johnnie
Jones, "and fill children's stockings when they are asleep in bed. I
should like very well to be his helper some time."
"You may be," Mother answered; "anyone who really wishes to be Santa's
assistant, may be."
Johnnie Jones was surprised. "Well, I didn't know that," he said.
"Please tell me how."
"Whenever people give Christmas presents to those they love, they are a
sort of Santa Claus," Mother told him. "But this year you may be a real
Santa Claus, if you like, with a real pack of toys, and you may fill
some real stockings belonging to some real children, this coming
Christmas Eve."
"Oh! Mother dear, tell me all about it, quick as a wink," begged Johnnie
Jones, clapping his hands with delight.
"I thought you would be pleased," Mother answered. "Father knows of a
large house in which ever so many children live who have never hung up
their stockings. I suppose no one has thought to tell Santa Claus about
them, and their fathers and mothers are very poor. Father and I want
to make them have a bright, happy Christmas this year, and he has told
them, each one, to be sure to hang up stockings on Christmas Eve for a
Santa Claus to fill. If you like, you may be that Santa, and Father and
I will be your assistants, and we'll go, all three of us, to the house
at night when the children are fast asleep."
Johnnie Jones skipped joyfully about the room. "Shall we go in a sleigh
with bells and reindeer?" he asked.
"We'll go in a sleigh if there is snow," Mother promised, "but I am
afraid we shall have to use horses, and pretend they are reindeer."
Johnnie Jones was greatly excited. He asked Mother every question he
could think of, and wished it were Christmas Eve that very minute.
Mother told him be should be glad they still had several days before
Christmas in which to make their preparations.
That same afternoon they went shopping. Johnnie Jones was allowed to
select the toys for the children, and he chose enough drums and horses,
wagons and cars, dolls and play-houses, dishes and tables, to fill four
very large boxes. Next, they ordered the candy, pounds and pounds of it,
and a big tree with ever so many candles for it. Last of all, they
bought warm coats and shoes.
The next three days was a busy time for Johnnie Jones. After he had
finished his gifts for the family, he went to work on the decorations
for the tree. He made yards and yards of brightly colored paper chains,
and many cornucopias. Every evening before his bed-time Mother and
Father helped him.
At last the day before Christmas came. When Johnnie Jones awoke in the
morning he was very much pleased to find the ground covered with snow.
It was hard to wait until night, but he was busy all day, and the time
passes quickly when one is busy.
After a very early supper Father, Mother and Johnnie Jones dressed
themselves in their warmest clothing and heaviest wraps. By the time
they were ready, there was the sleigh, drawn by two strong horses
wearing many bells, standing before the house. It was quite a while
before the toys, and candy, and ornaments, were safely packed in the
sleigh, but at last all was in readiness, and away they went.
After a long, beautiful ride over the hard snow, with the moon and stars
shining up in the sky, they reached the big house.
"Are all the children asleep?" Father asked two men who were waiting for
them at the door.
The men answered yes, and Father whispered to Johnnie Jones: "We must be
very quiet, Santa Claus, that we may not waken anybody."
They tiptoed carefully into the first room where several children were
asleep in their beds.
"I see the stockings," whispered Johnnie Jones eagerly. "Give me my
sack."
Father placed the heavy sack on the floor, and the little Santa and
Mother filled the stockings with candy and nuts, oranges and tiny toys.
As soon as Father had set up the tree in an empty room, he came back to
help. It was the best kind of fun, but they had to be very quiet in
order not to waken the children. Once Johnnie Jones couldn't help
laughing aloud when a ridiculous old Jack popped out of the box in his
hand. The laugh awoke a little boy, who sat up in bed and called out,
"Hello! Is that you, Santa Claus?" They had to leave the room until he
fell asleep again.
When all the stockings had been filled, the tree decorated, and the
presents arranged under it, Father locked the door of that room so that
no one should peep in before it was time. Little Santa Claus was so
tired that he went to sleep in Father's arms on the way home, and when
he was being carried to bed awoke only long enough to hang his own
stocking by the fire-place.
The next morning he opened his eyes very early, as is the custom of
children on Christmas Day. He looked for his stocking, first of all,
wondering if Santa had filled it. Of course he had, with all the things
that little boys like best.
Johnnie Jones was so happy over his presents, that he could scarcely
take time to dress. At last Mother reminded him of those other children
waiting so anxiously for their first Christmas tree. Johnnie Jones
laid down his new toys immediately, and dressed himself as quickly as
possible. Directly after breakfast they returned to the big house, this
time on the street car.
Before they turned the corner on their way to the house, they heard the
voices of the children, who were full of joy over the presents found in
their stockings. Father went at once to the room he had locked up the
night before, and lighted the candles on the tree. When all was ready he
opened the door, and Johnnie Jones invited the children to enter.
They stood very quietly about the tree, not saying a word at first. It
was so beautiful, and so different from anything they had ever seen,
that it made them feel shy. But when Father called the children in turn,
and Johnnie Jones gave to every one a warm coat, a new pair of shoes,
and a splendid toy, they found their tongues, and made such a noise as
you never heard.
They had to dress themselves in the coats and shoes, and they had to
show each other their toys. Some of them had to turn somersaults, and
all of them had to make a great noise just to express their joy.
But happiest of all those happy children was little Johnnie Jones.
All too soon, Father, Mother and Johnnie Jones had to leave, so that
they might reach Grandmother's house in time for dinner. When they were
again on the car, the little boy began to talk of the good time they had
had.
"I'd like to be a Santa Claus every year," he said.
"Then save your pennies," Mother answered, "until next Christmas comes."
* * * * *
An Original Valentine
Tom and Sarah were the little boy and girl who lived in the small brown
house near the home of Johnnie Jones. It was the evening before St.
Valentine's day and the brother and sister were sitting by the fire,
talking together.
"I do wish we had some valentines to send," said Tom. "If we only had
some gilt or colored paper and some pictures, we could make them, but we
haven't anything at all."
"I am sorry," their mother told them. "The children have been so kind to
you this winter. You remember how they helped you with the coal? I wish
we could send them each a very beautiful valentine to thank them, but I
am afraid I can't spare the money to buy even one."
Sarah had been as quiet as a little mouse while Tom and Mother were
speaking. Then suddenly she said: "I know what we can do!"
"What?" asked Tom.
Sarah began to dance about the room. "It will be such fun!" she said.
"Please tell me," begged Tom.
"Don't you see," Sarah explained; "we can't buy valentines, and we can't
make valentines, so we shall just have to be valentines!"
"Now how in the world can we be valentines?" Tom asked her.
"We'll dress in our Sunday clothes," she answered. "We'll cut hearts out
of paper and pin them all over us. Then we'll ask Mother to pin a paper
envelope on each of us, and address it to one of the children. When we
are ready we'll ring the door bell of that child's house, and when he
opens the door, we'll speak mottoes, and all sorts of rhymes. Won't the
children laugh?"
"All right!" said Tom. "Only, I would rather not be a valentine myself.
You be one and I will send you. We'll pretend you are the doll valentine
we saw down town the other day, the one that danced when the man wound
her up, and spoke the verse."
"Well!" Sarah assented, "and you must wind me up and I'll dance little
Sally Waters."
They spent the rest of the evening thinking of rhymes. Their mother
taught them all she could remember, and Sarah repeated them over and
over again so that she should not forget.
The next morning they went to school, but as soon as they had reached
home and eaten their lunch they began their preparations. No one in the
whole world ever saw a sweeter valentine than Sarah, when she was ready
in her bright red dress and short snow-white coat, decorated with paper
hearts. Then her mother cut and folded some wrapping paper into a big
envelope, and placed it about Sarah's little body. Of course her feet
had to be left free so that she could walk, and her head, so that she
could breathe.
"Let's go to Johnnie Jones's house first," Tom said.
So his mother addressed the envelope to Master Johnnie Jones, and the
children started off.
Johnnie Jones was at home that afternoon, feeling very sad. He had
fallen into the pond several days before, and the icy bath had given him
such a cold that he had to stay indoors. He could see the other children
running about from house to house sending their valentines, and he
wanted to run about and send some too. To be sure he had received ever
so many, but he was tired of looking at them and hearing the mottoes
read, and he wished very much that some one would come in to play with
him.
Mother had just said: "I am afraid no one will come to-day, dear,
because all the children are busy with their valentines," when the door
bell rang.
As soon as Maggie had opened the door she called up to Johnnie Jones:
"There's a beautiful valentine down here for you. I'll bring it up. Tom
sent it. I caught him at the door, so I'll bring him up, too."
Johnnie Jones ran to the head of the staircase as fast as he could run.
How he did laugh when Maggie placed Sarah before him, and showed him the
address on the envelope.
"It's a doll valentine," Tom explained, "and it has a phonograph in it.
I'll wind it up."
He knelt down and pretended to turn a crank. Then Sarah, who had not
smiled or spoken a word before, said:
"If you love me as I love you,
No knife can cut our love in two."
Tom turned the crank again, and this time she danced.
"Let me wind it," begged Johnnie Jones, who was very much pleased. He
did, and the valentine said:
"Roses red and violets blue,
Sugar is sweet and so are you."
Mother joined the children in the hall, and was delighted with the
valentine, which each one wound up until it had said all the rhymes that
Sarah knew, and had danced until she was tired. Then the doll changed
into a little girl for a while, and she had some milk and cookies with
the other children.
"We shall have to go now," Tom said at last, looking out of the window.
"The other children have gone into their houses and I must send them
each a valentine."
So Mother made a new envelope and addressed it to Miss Elizabeth Elkins.
"Thank you for my valentine," said Johnnie Jones. "It's the loveliest
one I have had all day, only I wish I could keep it as I can the
others."
All the children who received the little Valentine in turn, made exactly
the same remark, so Tom and Sarah were very happy over the success of
their plan.
* * * * *
When Johnnie Jones was a Cry-Baby
All his life Johnnie Jones had been a bright, happy little fellow who
seldom cried even when he was hurt. Therefore, everyone who knew him was
surprised when suddenly, just before he was five years old, he became a
cry-baby.
The trouble began with some of the older boys in the neighborhood.
There were three of them who were several years older than Johnnie
Jones, and a year older than the other children. Lately these big boys
had commenced to tease the smaller ones, and especially Johnnie Jones.
They did not intend to be unkind, but would often make him cry by
rolling him off his sled, pelting him with snowballs, or calling him
nicknames.
Of course, there was no reason for crying, since, although the boys were
rather rough, they never really hurt Johnnie Jones. Indeed, they loved
him, and were only in fun when they teased him. If Johnnie Jones had
been brave enough to laugh at them he would soon have been left in
peace; but as he always cried instead, the boys began to call him
"crybaby."
Johnnie Jones soon formed the bad habit of crying about every little
thing that did not please him, until at last it was difficult to live
with him. His father and mother were greatly distressed, and tried in
every way to help Johnnie Jones. They told him that they were ashamed to
have a cry-baby for a son, but that only made him cry more than ever.
Finally Mother said that something must be done, for Johnnie Jones had
reached the point where he was almost always crying. He would come home
crying from kindergarten, he would come in from play with tears in his
eyes, and worst of all, every few minutes, he would find some excuse for
crying at home.
"I think he must be ill," Mother said to Father, one day, "and I am so
worried that I shall take him to the doctor."
Father agreed, so in the afternoon, Mother and Johnnie Jones paid Dr.
Smith a visit in his office.
Dr. Smith was a great friend of Johnnie Jones's and was sorry to hear of
the crying spells. He examined the little boy very carefully, but could
find nothing wrong with him. Then he said that he was sure Johnnie Jones
was not ill, and that he cried so often just because he had formed a bad
habit.
"It is a very disagreeable habit," he continued, "and I know you want to
overcome it, so I'll write you a prescription for some medicine. Doctors
usually do not prescribe for people unless they are ill, but I think if
you take a spoonful of this medicine every time you cry, you will soon
be cured of the habit. You try it, anyway."
He gave the prescription to Mother, who, after thanking him, left the
office with Johnnie Jones. On the way home they stopped at the
drug-store and bought the medicine, which mother took into the house
with her, while Johnnie Jones ran out to play.
There wasn't a child in that neighborhood who was not fond of Johnnie
Jones, but since he had become a cry-baby none of them cared to play
with him, because he would often spoil the best game by stopping to cry.
No one enjoys playing with a tearful boy or girl.
All the children were playing in the snow when Johnnie Jones joined
them. They had built a snow fort, which half of the children were trying
to destroy with snowballs, and which half were defending. They were
having the merriest sort of a time. Occasionally some one would be
struck by a ball, but he would just laugh and send back another, for it
was all in fun.
Johnnie Jones began to play, too, and was enjoying himself very much,
when unfortunately a stray ball struck his cheek. It did hurt, but not
nearly enough to cry about, for all the balls were soft. Johnnie Jones,
however, began to cry, called the children "unkind," which was foolish,
and ran away home.
As soon as he entered the house, Mother gave him some of the medicine.
Never was anyone more surprised than Johnnie Jones, when he tasted it!
The only other medicine he had ever taken had been sweet, but this was
dreadfully bitter. He had no sooner swallowed it than he began to cry
again. Mother immediately poured more of it from the bottle.
"I won't take any more," Johnnie Jones, said between his sobs, "it is
bad medicine."
"Yes, indeed," Mother told him, "you must take it every time you cry,
just as the doctor said, because we can't continue to have a cry-baby in
the house. You must take another dose now unless you can stop crying
without it."
"I'll stop," said Johnnie Jones, and he did.
Mother poured some of the medicine into another bottle to send to Miss
Page at kindergarten, and then placed the rest on the mantel where
Johnnie Jones could see it.
It was remarkable how quickly the little boy was cured of his bad habit.
After he had taken but three doses of the bitter medicine he learned
to stop and think when anything failed to please him. Then, instead of
allowing himself to cry, he would often manage to laugh, which was much
more sensible, and much pleasanter for the people near him. Soon he
began to realize what a foolish little boy he had been, and at last he
made up his mind to be, instead of a cry-baby, a big, brave boy. And
that is what he was, all the rest of his life, bright and sweet and
brave, so that everyone loved to be with him, grown folks as well as
the children.
* * * * *
Johnnie Jones and the Man Who Cried "Wolf" too Often
Some time passed by before people began to realize that Johnnie Jones
was no longer a cry-baby. On that account he had a very unpleasant
experience one day.
The children were playing horse on the sidewalk, and Johnnie Jones as
one of the horses, was being driven by Sammy Smith. All went well until
they reached a rough place in the pavement. Here Johnnie Jones tripped
and fell, scraping his leg against a sharp stone, and straining and
bruising his arm quite badly. It happened so quickly that none of the
children saw that he was hurt, and so did not pity him when he began to
cry. They were so accustomed to hear him cry over every little trouble,
that they thought nothing of his crying then. If they had known he was
really hurt, they would have been kind and helped him up. As it was,
they merely told him not to be such a cry-baby and ran off and left him.
Just then Father came by on his way home, and when he saw Johnnie Jones
leaning against the fence, crying, he thought, too, that the little boy
had become a cry-baby again. If he had seen Johnnie Jones fall, he would
have picked him up and carried him home in his arms; but not knowing
that the little boy was really hurt, he took hold of his hand, and
walked home with him. Johnnie Jones was trying his best not to cry, but
I think the bravest boy in the world might not have been able to keep
back the tears, with such a sore leg and arm.
As they entered the house, Mother said: "Oh little son! crying again?"
When she had heard of the accident, she told Johnnie Jones that she
was sorry, and would try to help him after lunch. But as soon as she
saw that he could eat nothing at all, she asked Father to carry him
upstairs, where she examined the injured leg and arm. When she found
them so badly scraped and bruised, she was greatly distressed.
"You poor little boy!" she exclaimed, "No one realized that you were
really in pain."
After she had bathed and bandaged the leg and arm, and made Johnnie
Jones comfortable, she brought his lunch up to him, and while he was
eating, told him this story:
Once, a long, long time ago, there lived a man whose name has been
forgotten. He lived with other men and their families out in the pasture
lands, and there he tended the sheep. Now a great many wolves lived near
by, which often tried to steal into the fold and carry off the sheep.
Everyone kept a close watch for these wolves, and when any person saw
one he would cry out, "wolf! wolf!" so that all the others might come
to help him destroy it, and save the sheep. But this first man of whom
I told you, liked to call "wolf!" when there was no wolf there, just
to frighten or disturb the others. Sometimes he would waken the men at
night by his foolish cry, and they would come running out only to find
he had given a false alarm. At last these men grew weary of answering
his calls. Besides, as there had been no wolves about for some little
time, they were feeling quite safe.
One night, when the foolish man was keeping watch over his sheep, he saw
in the distance an entire pack of wolves coming steadily toward the
fold. Instantly he raised a loud cry, "WOLF! WOLF!" and waited for help.
But no help came.
The men heard his cry. but as they did not believe the wolves were
really there, they remained in their beds. One man alone could not
defend himself and his sheep against a pack of hungry wolves. So, next
morning, he was found badly injured, and the sheep were gone. Everyone
was sorry for the man, but all knew he could blame only himself. He had
cried "wolf!" too often, when there was no wolf there, and so he was not
believed when the wolf came at last.
"Johnnie Jones," said Mother, when she had finished the story, "you have
cried so often when there was no reason for crying, that this one time
when you cried because you were really hurt, no one believed you. I am
very sorry for you, little son, but don't you see that it was no one's
fault but your own?"
* * * * *
Johnnie Jones's Birthday Party
A few days before Johnnie Jones's fifth birthday, Mother asked him what
he would like to have for a birthday present.
"A party," he answered immediately, "and I want to invite all the
children who live on this street."
"Very well," Mother said, "we'll write the invitations now, on your own
note paper."
Johnnie Jones gave her a joyful hug, and ran to his desk for the paper.
Mother wrote upon every sheet: "Johnnie Jones will be very glad to have
you come to his birthday party, Saturday afternoon, from three until
five o'clock." She addressed an envelope to each one of his playmates,
and Johnnie Jones stamped, sealed and mailed the invitations as soon as
they were written.
Next day the postman brought the answers. The children accepted with a
great deal of pleasure.
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday seemed very long days to impatient
Johnnie Jones.
"I sometimes think," he said to Mother, "that Saturday isn't coming this
week."
But, when he awoke one morning, Saturday had come at last, and the party
was to be that very day.
While Mother was helping him to dress in his party clothes, she said:
"Remember to make everyone glad that he came to your party, and to play
whatever the children wish, even if they do not choose your favorite
games."
He promised to remember, and as soon as he was dressed, ran to the
window to watch for his guests. He did not have long to wait before they
began to arrive.
As soon as the children had removed their hats and coats, Johnnie Jones
led them to a long kindergarten table, which Mother had borrowed. Each
child sat down in a small red chair, and made a necklace of colored
beads, which was soon finished and tied about his neck.