upon us, and will keep us from all harm, so we need fear nothing. We are
both well contented with little; and as long as we do not lose our
voices, we can make several dollars a day, and so we are happy. Good-bye
to you, and the kind-hearted children who have been so pleasant to us,
and that God will bless you all, is the prayer of Hendrik and his sister
Gertruyd."
[Illustration: Doves]
LETTER FROM A LITTLE GIRL TO AN ABSENT SCHOOL-MATE.
SUNNY SIDE.
MY DEAR LILY:
As you were so kind as to remember me at Christmas, I will write you a
letter about our other yearly festival, the "May-day Coronation." Of
course, you remember many of our pleasant gatherings, at different rural
spots, on that occasion. But I do not think we ever had a pleasanter
time than this year at May Mount; for so we christened the place where
we had our party.
Early in the morning, we voted for the Queen, and after every one had
written their choice on the big slate, we found that Annie was
unanimously elected. We were all delighted, as she had been so long
separated from us, and then she chose her maids of honor and two pages.
We selected some pretty songs, and all rehearsed the pieces of poetry we
intended for our Queen; then we were very busy finishing off moss
baskets, and making bouquets and wreaths for the procession.
We had two beautiful banners, all trimmed round with evergreen; one had
on it, "All Hail, thou lovely May;" and the other, "Sweet Spring has
come." We also twined a tall May-pole with evergreen and put on the top
a great wreath of daffies. For a throne we had an armchair, and on each
side two large bouquets of flowers. These were sent us from Boston,
besides three beautiful wreaths for the Queen and her maids of honor.
The wild flowers were so plentiful, that we had very pretty wreaths for
all the subjects too, which we cannot say every year.
At two o'clock we all started, each one carrying baskets of refreshments
for the table, which was to be laid in pic-nic style. We had a great
deal of fun walking over to the place, for the wind blew quite strong,
and we had as much as we could do to get all our things safely to
Riverdale. After we arrived in the little wood, we chose a green mound
for the throne, and spread carpets round for fear of dampness; and then,
while the young ladies made the arrangements for the celebration, we
scampered off for wild flowers.
The boys were just as full of fun as they could be, and one of them
caught a little snake and chased us; but we did not mind any thing, we
felt so happy ourselves. One of the girls tore her dress, and another
fell out of the swing, which one of the gentlemen kindly put up for us;
but we determined to laugh at everything.
Soon the parents and company all assembled, and then we went through our
usual ceremonies. Our Queen looked sweetly, and the wreaths were very
becoming to all the girls. Each one said a piece of poetry to her
majesty, and then kissing her hand, said, "Long live the Queen of May."
We had a bishop, who put on the crowns and made a nice little address;
and then the pages introduced all the ladies and gentlemen to the Queen,
who sat smiling and blushing at her honors.
Then we all stood in a circle and sang our May song round the May-pole,
but the wind scattered our voices, and they did not sound so well as in
school. After that, we played games and went to the top of Prospect
Rock, from which we could see the river, the woods and all the village,
which looked very pretty with its three churches, and nice white houses.
After we had rambled round till we were tired, we took some refreshment
at the table, which was loaded with good things and looked very pretty.
Then we repeated several of our songs, by particular request; and we did
a great deal better than at first. Just before sunset we packed up all
the things and prepared to go home. Some of us rode, packed eight or
nine, close in a wagon, and the rest of us walked home.
We stopped a moment at the old apple-tree, where the first May-party was
gathered, and some of the oldest girls gave an account of the "Prince of
Wales," who was present on the occasion.
We had a grand time, and I hope we may have just such another every
year. I pressed my wreath as a memento of the occasion, and have put it
away to show you, when you come to make me a visit. With love to all
your sisters, I remain your affectionate school-mate,
AGNES.
AN ACCOUNT OF A SEA-SHORE VISIT,
_FOR THOSE WHO HAVE RECEIVED THE "NANTASKET SEA-WEEDS."_
Two little girls, rejoicing in the names of Mary and Maimée, were one
summer recommended to visit the sea-shore, to regain the health and
strength which they had lost by too steady an application to study.
After being duly prepared, one by the "Good Aunt," whom every body knew
and loved for her many acts of disinterestedness; the other by a most
excellent mother, they both started off with friend "Maimiotti" for a
snug little nook at Lynn.
Wild was the delight of the trio, as they took up their comfortable
quarters with the good-natured fisherman; and never were they tired of
gazing at the beautiful expanse of waters spread before them. Many were
the plans formed for that week of leisure, and unbounded freedom;
certainly enough to fill up six common months, and for a while, what to
do first was a difficult question.
However, moderation, or "A happy Medium," was to be their motto; and
though they were their own mistresses, with liberty to do just what they
pleased, they showed a wonderful instance of self-government, and _were
pleased_ to do right. Whether this is difficult or not, I leave to the
decision of certain scholars, who have enjoyed a similar pleasure, when
controlling themselves during the temporary absence of the Queen Bee.
Every day Mary, Maimée and "Maimiotti" were up bright and early before
breakfast; and after a brisk walk on the beach, or in the surrounding
woods, they returned with fine appetites and an inexhaustible supply of
spirits.
When proper attention had been bestowed upon the arrangement of their
rooms, they passed a portion of their time aiding the fisherman's wife
in the homely details of house-keeping; sometimes holding the little
baby, and sometimes devoting themselves to the amusement of sick Kitty
B., who was always pleased with the attention.
After this wholesome discipline, they sat down to their sewing with
renewed interest, and while one read aloud, accomplished wonders of work
with their fast flying needles, unconscious of the flight of time.
At length the hour for the bath, with its important and interesting
preparations arrived. After decking themselves in the most fantastic
costumes, great was the frolic at "the Cradle," as they gambolled in the
waters like so many sea-nymphs; but vainly striving to emulate them in
the art of swimming.
A nap and the duties of the toilet followed this delightful
exhilaration; for they considered a tidy exterior indispensable to their
comfort and pleasure, even in their retirment from all social life. At
their meals a constant flow of lively conversation, and never ceasing
jokes enlivened the hour; while at the same time, a graceful attention
to the wants of those around them marked their refinement, and made them
the pets of the household. They all seemed to remember the infinite
power of good manners, and in their wildest fun never overstepped the
bounds of a becoming propriety.
In the afternoon, a little more reading, letters and journal-writing
filled up the time, till cooler hours allowed another ramble on the
rocks, or a stroll after the sweet wild flowers in the woods around. And
famous were the collections of Iceland moss, sea-shells, pebbles and
pressed flowers, made by those indefatigable bodies for "the dear ones
at home."
Every day brought some new pleasure, and though apart from the throng of
gay visitors around them, they were never weary of their simple life;
and their happy hearts were a constant offering of gratitude to the
Giver of all the fair and glorious things in the world about them. The
sunset clouds, the flight of birds, the brilliancy of the sea and sky,
the bracing air and the soft moonlight, filled their hearts with good
and holy feelings; and without knowing it, they were made better by the
beauty of Nature.
The building of a stone cottage near by, was the source of constant
interest; and many were the pleasant visits to its various apartments,
decorated with all the appliances of wealth and taste. By the aid of a
kind gentleman's camera, a perfect drawing of the cottage, and a pretty
little bird's eye view of the shore were obtained; but better than all,
an original sketch of their humble cot was taken, as a memento of those
sunny hours.
Fishing for cod and haddock with the skipper in his dory, sea-sickness
notwithstanding, was one of their rare occasions of enjoyment. Then the
delightful trip to Nahant, in a sail boat, will long be remembered by
those hardy adventurers, one of whom almost pitched the merry crew into
the briny deep, as the stout fisherman pushed the little bark homeward
against the resisting winds and waves.
But last, though not least in their annals, was the grand "Clam bake,"
when "all the folks" from far and near, came to have a good time, and
eat as much baked fish, boiled lobsters and hot clams as possible. One
of the party, carried away by the spirit of the occasion, and imitating
the example of those around, forgot the motto of the week and ate too
many clams. As a necessary consequence she forfeited a delicious bath;
thereby proving that every excess is followed by the loss of some
anticipated enjoyment, and worse than all, by an accompanying loss of
self-respect.
A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF A SUNDAY SCHOOL SCHOLAR.
Many were the tears shed at the death of lovely Carry G.; the joy of her
parents, the idol of her school-mates, and the pride of her Teachers. She
belonged to the Sunday-school of the First Church in ----, and no one was
more regular in attendance, or more thorough in the preparation of her
lessons. But death, who had been busy in the village, visited the little
band of scholars; and one of its choicest flowers was transplanted to a
fairer soil.
The love of a fond mother, of an affectionate sister and brothers, the
interest of her many friends could not save her; and after a short
separation, she followed her beloved father to that Heaven, whither he
had preceded her.
The deepest sympathy prevailed among all her class-mates and
school-companions, during her illness, and many were the pleasant
incidents brought to mind, as they thought upon her guileless life.
She was about eleven years old, and had already made considerable
proficiency in her studies at school; always maintaining a very good
rank, and being noted for her habits of neatness and regularity. In
music she evinced a great taste, playing with ease and correctness, and
in her father's sickness, she was quite a solace with her little songs.
Of flowers she was excessively fond; always the first to find them in
her garden, and ever ready to join in the ramble after the wild blossoms
of the neighboring hills and dales. Her last effort of health, was an
early morning walk, the pleasures of which she enjoyed exceedingly, for
she was keenly alive to the beauties of Nature.
In poetry she took great delight, frequently reading selections, with
great feeling and pathos. One piece, of which she was particularly
fond, she neatly copied off for her mother, to whom she read it just
before her sickness, with such peculiar earnestness and sweetness, that
it was like listening to the tones of an angel. It is called "The
Inquiry," and may be found in "The Common School Speaker and Reader."
To all these pleasant qualities, which made her so agreeable at home and
abroad, she added a sacred regard for truth. In all her dealings at
school, this was very conspicuous; and to have her word doubted caused
the deepest pang to her sensitive nature.
In her last sickness the fever affected her brain, so that she was not
always conscious of what was going on around her; but in her wanderings,
she was constantly thinking of her school-mates, and in imagination
participating with them in their usual duties. A few hours before she
died, she partook of a little refreshment; and then with her usual sweet
smile of intelligence, gave her mother her parting kiss of affection.
Soon after she slept in peace; and free from all pain and anguish, she
is now one of the bright celestial choir.
The scholars of her school, sang several touching hymns at her funeral;
and as they took their last look at her remains, beautiful even in
death, their grief burst forth in sobs, and general sadness pervaded the
room. The earnest prayer of the minister made a deep impression; and the
appropriate services at the Sunday-School, on the next Sabbath, will
long be remembered by those who heard them. May the many virtues of this
sweet child be imitated, and may all those who loved her in life, be
enabled to followed her bright example.
On the coffin-lid, which was covered with her favorite flowers, the
gifts of those who loved her, were placed the following lines, the
effusion of a friend:
"Sweet flowers upon the Bier,
Bedewed with Nature's tears!
No more her Child, reposing here,
Within her fane appears.
The silent bending skies,
Will weeping vigils keep;
While myriad glistening starry eyes,
Attend her peaceful sleep.
Far, far beyond those skies,
Where dwell the immortal throng,
Strains of a new-born spirit rise,--
Swells the celestial song.
The tides of rapture roll,
The Heaven's eternal rounds,
As if a _union_ there of _souls_
Were mingling in the sounds.
O let us weep; away
From that blest land of peace,
We shall not always lingering stay;
Soon will our yearning cease."
A SIMPLE STORY FOR GEORGY.
A nice little duck once took it into his wise head, that he would like
to travel, and so get vast stores of learning. Upon hearing that there
was to be a grand gathering of all the fowls in the country, he resolved
to be present at the exhibition.
So upon a bright balmy day, he was taken in a cage for his carriage, and
put in the midst of the mixed assembly. Upon looking round, he soon
spied out his near neighbors, the beautiful rough-neck pigeons, who
cooed a pleasant welcome.
There he saw great Turkey-gobblers, white Geese, China Fowls, and
Chickens of every description. The Guinea-hens frightened him with their
loud screams, and for a while, he was perfectly bewildered with the din
of the many sounds about him.
Very soon he made the acquaintance of a pretty little Polish couple, who
told him they were the descendants of the famous "Thaddeus of Warsaw,"
and "Sobieski;" and they told him a pathetic story of their many
sufferings, and final sad death away from their country.
With the other fowls he could not make any acquaintance, they so stared
him out of countenance, from envy of his beautiful plumage. In most
disconsolate tones he begged to be taken out of the crowd, and satisfied
with this specimen of city life, he was ever afterwards contented with
_home_.
Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack!
Said the duck in sad plight!
Oh! carry me back,
To my sweet country home;
Where there is no lack
Of fresh air and light,
Where I'm not on the rack,
For want of a little room.
Take me from this clack,
Or, struck with a blight,
I shall die, alack!
And that will seal my doom.
_A Duck's Lament._
[Illustration: Bird]
A STORY FOR SWEET LITTLE FANNY.
Out in the country there lives a funny little boy, who makes a great
deal of sport in his family, by saying and doing a great many droll
things.
This merry little fellow owns a beautiful Maltese kitten, which he calls
"Minnie," and with her he has a great many frolics. She is a very great
favorite with every body, and visitors are sure to notice her bright
eyes, her white breast, and her graceful motions.
Like all little boys and girls, she likes to be noticed; and when she is
caressed and petted, she shows her satisfaction by purring as loud as
possible. But if she is teazed, she is very unhappy, and runs off into a
dark hole in the cellar, so her little master cannot find her.
One day he took it into his busy head, that, as he had a cold bath every
day, pussy must have one too. So off he goes to the bathing-tub, and
notwithstanding Minnie's pitiful cries, he plunges her into the cold
water, and gives her a thorough ducking.
Being missed by his mother, search was made for the little rogue, and he
was found in the act, apparently very much satisfied with his
performance. He was quite surprised to find, that instead of doing a
kind act, he had unintentionally been very rough with his darling Kitty.
Great was his sorrow, and after carefully drying his pet, he tried, by
every effort in his power, to make her forget his strange treatment.
Minnie quickly recovered her health and spirits; and soon after she was
seen chasing her tail, and jumping round among the chairs.
Her little master, in his _first_ pair of boots, clattered round the
room in great glee; and when tired of racing, he sat down in the
corner, to teach his Maltese playfellow how to read. But she did not get
any farther than "mew," and I guess her teacher will not try that much
longer, for she cannot learn as fast as little Fanny. When _she_ can
read and spell, she too shall have a pretty little kitty for her next
birth-day present, or if she likes better, a beautiful great doll.
[Illustration: Dog]
SKETCHES FROM A FIRESIDE JOURNAL.
This week I am to have a vacation, so I will see how much I can do at
home, and try to spend the time properly.
Monday. I was up early and walked with the girls, though the weather was
dreary. I came home and helped mother get breakfast, and then sewed all
the morning. In the afternoon I took care of my little brother, and
amused the other children, while mother was out. Before dark I played
ball on the Court-house steps.
Tuesday. I was lazy and lost my walk, so I felt cross all the morning,
and every thing seemed to go wrong. At last I determined to conquer
myself and be pleasant, and then I helped mother make some cake. In the
afternoon I learned how to darn stockings, and father was very much
pleased with me for doing so well. In the evening mother let us have a
frolic, and we dressed up in all sorts of characters. We had an old
woman with a long nose, and "Mrs. Jemima Jones," who wore a most absurd
looking, beaver bonnet.
Wednesday. I walked with the girls to the Monument, and we collected a
quantity of moss, to make baskets and vases. I helped mother take care
of the children, and stopped a quarrel between my two brothers. I made a
whole sheet, so mother said I might go to the vestry, and help tie up
bouquets for the Warren street Sunday School. The room was full of
ladies, and we made fifty beautiful bunches of flowers, which were sent
into the city on long poles. In the evening father and mother went to
hear Mr. Giles lecture, and they came home perfectly delighted with him.
Thursday. The fourth of July! I did not go into Boston, as I had been
the year before; but some of our Sunday-School went to see the Floral
Procession, which they said was very beautiful. The girls, who staid at
home, went off on a pic-nic, and we had a fine time, for we had a
boat-ride and games in the woods.
Friday. I went with my Cousin and a party of girls to visit the woollen
factories. We went into all the different rooms, where they were dyeing,
spinning, weaving and folding cloth; but the machinery made such a
noise, that we could not hear each other talk. In the night there was a
terrible fire; two houses were burned and a poor little boy perished in
the flames. Every body went to see the ruins, and the next day all the
ladies were busy making clothes, and raising money for the sufferers.
Saturday. I was very busy, at home, all the morning, sweeping, dusting
and putting the parlor in order. A large party on horseback went to Blue
Hill, so I stopped awhile to look, as they passed through the village.
In the afternoon I mended all my clothes, learned my Sunday-School
lesson, and went to walk. I then watered my garden, and gathered some
flowers for a bouquet, to be put in church the next day.
Sunday. I went to church all day, and then father took a walk with us.
We went to Harrison Grove, where the Sunday-school once had a
celebration, and two little children were christened under the trees. It
was a beautiful sight, and I often think of the pleasant time we had,
listening to our minister, and the other gentlemen who spoke to us, on
that interesting occasion.
SARAH.
UNDA, OR THE FOUNTAIN FAIRY.
In the warm bright days of pleasant October, as some happy, healthful
children were collected on the banks of a bubbling brook, twining gay
autumn leaves into wreaths and bouquets, with one accord they asked for
a story. "What shall it be about?" "Oh, about fairies," said a bright
eyed girl, who had lately been revelling in the fascinating tales of the
"Forty Thieves," and "Aladdin's wonderful lamp." "Well, a story you
shall have, but only about good fairies; for a wicked fairy seems as
inconsistent as an ungentle lamb, an ugly beauty, or a dark sunbeam."
"Oh, good, good, good!" echoed from them all; and after the lunch of
wedding cake was finished, and each one had crept as near as possible to
the narrator, she began.
"Once upon a time there lived a Fairy, or Fair spirit, in a crystal
palace. This was built upon the polished surface of an immense mirror,
and being reflected in the clear depths below, it was an object of
unsurpassable magnificence.
Her name was Unda. For many, many years she had been busy doing good,
refreshing the earth, the trees and the modest flowerets, and giving
bountiful supplies to all the living creatures in her extensive
dominions.
The fame of her beauty and goodness at last reached the ears of the
excellent ruler of a certain great city, and he resolved to invite her
to visit his people. Like his father before him, he had always striven
to better their condition, and by her pure presence, he hoped to banish
all the _evil spirits_, which frequently tormented and degraded his
beloved subjects.
Accordingly an invitation was sent to Unda, and she agreed to come
within a year, provided a safe and convenient road should be constructed
for her especial benefit, and pleasant resting places erected, where
she might stop and collect her strength. This was promised; and a
hundred thousand magicians were immediately set to work to cut down
hills, blow up rocks, and fill up valleys, so that her course might be
unobstructed, and her access to the great city might be easy and
agreeable.
The news of her coming was sent to distant parts of the country by the
Flying Lightnings, who were employed as the ruler's messengers. On the
appointed day, thousands of people were brought safely to the place by
the giant, Steam, who, by a puff of his breath, could waft a hundred
chariots across the land, and great ships across the sea, in less than
no time.
Great was the desire to see the beautiful stranger, and vast the
preparations made in honor of her arrival. The city was ornamented with
flowers and evergreen, and sounds of music and shouts of rejoicing were
heard in every street. A procession was formed, three miles in length,
composed of men of all ranks, ages and professions, each bearing an
appropriate offering, and all vying with each other in the costliness of
their gifts. Myriads of gallant horsemen, on gaily caparisoned steeds,
bore along splendid flags and banners; children scattered flowers in
endless profusion, and representatives of various nations all went forth
in their pomp to greet the distinguished guest.
A pretty lake, in the centre of a spacious park interspersed with green
lawns, shady trees and pleasant walks, was especially fitted up for her
residence. And there, with a prospect of the hills and dales of the
neighboring country, and the companionship of her sweet sisters, Lux and
Aer, the good ruler hoped she would be tempted to remain forever.
Every thing was ready, and crowds of people with happy, expectant faces,
were waiting for the sign of her approach. Soon soft musical tones were
heard, like the breathings of an Æolian harp. Then swelling clearer and
louder, instantly up rose the lovely Water Spirit, radiant with gems,
and decked with a scarf of rainbow hues. Dancing and leaping higher and
higher, till she had attained her full majestic height, she bowed her
glittering head as a token of homage to the Father of all, and then
scattered cooling drops, like blessings, upon the gathered multitude.