“It’s something you’ve always wanted to know,” said Danny.
“And because I’m the oldest horse, they’ve given me the honor of telling
it to you,” added Prince.
Then the three horses neighed, looked at each other, smiled their horse
smiles and then looked at Bobbie.
“You’ve always wanted to know why we put our ears straight up when you’ve
come around,” said Prince.
“Oh yes,” said Bobbie, “I’ve always wanted to know if there was any
special reason for it.”
“There is,” said Prince, “and I will tell it to you. When we put our ears
up it’s to tell you we’re feeling pleasant and friendly. When horses put
their ears way back it means they’re cross and that perhaps they’ll bite.
But we have never put our ears back on our heads when you’ve been around,
Bobbie, so it means we always, always like to have you with us.”
And the next morning when Bobbie got up he went out to his three friends
and kissed them and said, “I know a secret of yours.”
JANUARY 27: In the Kitchen
“One evening,” commenced daddy, “when the house was quiet and still, and
every one was sleeping soundly, the tins and pans began to talk in the
kitchen.
“‘I think I am to be congratulated more than any of you,’ said the egg
beater. ‘You see my name means that I beat eggs. But not only do I beat
eggs. I beat cream and all other things they wish to whip into a fine
fluffy state.’
“‘True enough,’ agreed the other pans and tins.
“‘But you see,’ said the egg beater, ‘the wonderful part is that I am
not cross. Imagine being used only as a beater. Imagine forever whipping
everything that comes near you. Isn’t that enough to make an egg beater
cross? But am I cross?’
“And all the pots and pans creaked and said, ‘No.’
“‘Then,’ said the egg beater, ‘it only goes to show that my disposition
is quite perfect. Even whipping and beating everything that comes my way
doesn’t make me cross.’
“‘Listen to me,’ said the cheese grater. ‘Think of what my name means!’
“What?’ asked the others.
“‘It means I am greater than anything else. No other pot or tin or pan is
named by my name.’
“‘Oh,’ chuckled the gravy spoon, a big, good-natured, easy-going spoon,
‘you don’t understand at all.’
“‘What don’t I understand?’ asked the cheese grater.
“‘You see I help the gravy at the table and I hear the grownups and
children talk. They say that greater means something finer, bigger,
stronger, more noble than something that is merely great. Now greatest
means the best of all. You see the way they spell your name is quite
different from the way they spell the word that means great.’
“‘And what difference does that make?’ asked the cheese grater, who was
feeling sad.
“‘All the difference in the world,’ said the gravy spoon. ‘It means
something quite different.’
“‘The very idea of making such a mistake,’ said the cheese grater sadly.
“‘Never mind,’ said the egg beater. ‘I have a really bad name and I rise
above it. I do the best I can and don’t complain. You must do the same.’
“‘I will,’ said the cheese grater. ‘But I am so disappointed.’
“So the rest of the talk between the tins, pots and pans was not upon
their names and the meanings of them.”
JANUARY 28: The Little Needle
A little girl named Jinny in crossing the street one day saw a needle
shining very brightly in the center of the crossing. She picked it up
because, as she said to herself, some horse might get it in his foot and
have it hurt dreadfully. She stuck the needle in her fur and walked on.
Soon after she was home she went to bed and soon she was sound asleep.
The bright needle in the fur seemed to grow brighter and brighter. It
looked like something alive, it was so bright, and, sure enough, it was
talking!
“I came over from Italy with a very poor girl who was a sewer. She did
most wonderful fancy work. Her beautiful work brought ever so much more
money than it formerly did, and after a time she was never worried any
more.
“Well, after a while she succeeded so well that she bought a little house
and no longer had to work.
“To-day she was carrying her workbag to a friend’s house to sew a little
for amusement. But there was a hole in the bag, and I fell out. Then you
came along and picked me up. I’ll help you sew if you like, Jinny, for my
kind mistress doesn’t need me now.”
When Jinny awoke there was the needle on her fur, and she put it in her
workbag with such pleasure.
JANUARY 29: Real Dogs
Lucifer and his mistress went for quite a long drive one day. On their
way home his mistress stopped to make a call. Lucifer stayed alone in the
wonderful carriage.
Some common dogs passed by. They were barking and playing and seemed to
be having a very good time. Lucifer looked at them as if he sometimes
longed to be a real dog and to play as other dogs did. But of course
there was his family to be thought of and his background! He could not
disgrace it. He must not try anything different. He must just stay at
home, doing nothing but wear a big bow of ribbon and hear his mistress
tell of what a fine breed he was.
But the other dogs did fill him with envy. He had a strange longing to be
out playing, too. What a stupid life he led! No fun at all. And he would
like to see more of the world. No matter where he went with his mistress,
the world always seemed the same.
He wondered to himself if the dogs would play with him. He barked and
they looked at the victoria and at the poodle dog with the blue bow.
They seemed to be laughing at him, and for the first time his family tree
didn’t seem of any use. It was simply that the dogs were judging him for
what he was—they didn’t care a bit about his father or his grandfather.
“Could I join you?” he asked.
“Well, you don’t look as though you amounted to much,” they said, “but
come along. We’ll try to be kind to you.”
“Oh,” said Lucifer, as he ran along, “I do amount to a great deal. You
don’t know. I have more of a background than any of you.”
“What?” they all asked, with their ears and eyes showing that they could
not believe what they had heard. “Tell us what a background is,” they
asked. “Is it another name for life-saving?”
“No,” said Lucifer, “it means that I needn’t do anything but live up
to my family name. For years and years our family have been of noble,
aristocratic line. I am a dog of wonderful breeding.”
“You’re only snobbish,” they said, and Lucifer felt very badly. “Why,
you poor little dog, we feel sorry for you,” said one bright looking fox
terrier. “Our friends have saved children from drowning this summer,
some have saved lives in fire, and we all try to amount to something.
Pooh, you can’t be your grandfather. Try to be yourself and amount to
something!” And Lucifer joined the dogs to be taken on a regular dog’s
trip.
JANUARY 30: The Little Old Man
“There was once a very strange old man,” said daddy, “who decided he
would live at the top of the mountain. He liked to hear all the rumbling
sounds and thought he’d like to help make them. He loved pine trees, too,
of which there were plenty on top of the mountain. He told his family
about his desire, and the next day they started off.
“At last they reached the top, and there were so many of them it did make
a merry party.
“But it was almost dark, and they were all eager for supper.
“The grandmothers and mothers arranged the supper, and they had a most
delicious meal too.
“They had moss soup, a salad of pine needles chopped up very fine, big
berry pies and nuts, for they all wanted to eat mountain food at once.
They sat on low stumps of trees while they ate.
“After they’d finished eating they all felt quite energetic, and so the
old grandfather, who was the leader in everything, said:
“‘Let’s help with this storm which is coming on.’ And I should say they
did!
“All the older ones bellowed at the tops of their lungs so that it
sounded almost like roaring. The younger ones whistled and sang. The
people who lived at the foot of the mountain shivered and said: ‘Oh, what
a terrific storm! Listen to the sound of the wind!’
“But the old man and his family thought it fine fun.”
JANUARY 31: The Fussy Cat
“A white cat named Snow,” said daddy, “and a black dog named Coal were
the greatest of friends.
“‘I am so glad to-day is wash-day,’ said Snow. ‘I saw the soiled clothes
being scrubbed so hard and hung out on the line to dry. To-morrow they
will iron the clothes and then put them back in the basket all nicely
folded. Later they will go in the linen room! Ah, such joy.’ And Snow
purred happily.
“‘Now what in the world do you talk about wash-day and ironing-day for?’
asked Coal. ‘I can understand it when you talk about mice because I have
never known any creature so fond of them. But what do you care for clean
clothes? You don’t wear them. You can wash yourself and comb your hair by
yourself.’
“‘But I like to lie in clean clothes. Nothing gives me the joy that the
basket of clean clothes does! At least it is one of the joys of my life.
As for the linen closet—well, when they leave the door open I am happy. I
love to lie among the white napkins and pillow covers and sheets.’
“‘That’s the queerest thing I’ve ever heard,’ said the dog.
“‘It’s quite true, though,’ said the cat. ‘The mistress knows that. I’ve
often heard her say that she couldn’t leave the clean clothes in the
basket a moment as I’d lie among them right away. And she never dared
leave the linen closet door open. Of course they don’t know how fond I am
of such a bed,’ added Snow, ‘or they would enjoy having a bed made for me
of clean clothes all the time.’
“‘Bow-wow-wow,’ laughed the dog. ‘You are a creature to love everything
that is fine. How about soiled clothes? Wouldn’t they feel the same?’
“‘You insult me,’ said the cat. ‘I only lie in clean clothes. Soft
cushions, good food, especially cream and still more especially nice food
from the table—all these things I like.’
“‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said the dog. ‘I knew you loved all comforts but
this one of clean clothes I never heard of before.’
“‘That’s why I am never talking to you when I see the clothes basket of
clean clothes going upstairs,’ said Snow. ‘I am busy then!’
“And this,” said daddy, “is a true story.”
FEBRUARY 1: Mice are Discovered
“The Mice,” said daddy, “had been enjoying a new pantry they had found.
They always found some pantry where they could get good things to eat,
and this pantry was full of delicious cheese and all sorts of nice things.
“‘Really,’ said Mr. Mouse, ‘I don’t think we could have found a better
pantry. It’s one of the nicest homes we’ve had in a long time.’
“‘Yes,’ said Mrs. Mouse. ‘And there are no traps, and there is not a
single Cat in the House. That is what I call right. It’s very wrong to
keep a Cat. They’re such horrid creatures.’
“They would frisk about the pantry, behind the shelves and through the
drawers which were often left half-open.
“‘It is so stupid and inconsiderate,’ said Mr. Mouse, ‘for people to
close all the drawers and lock up their things in tin boxes. For my part
I hate tin boxes. They can’t be bitten and they’re so apt to cut me when
I try to get them opened.’
“‘Yes, they’re horrid,’ said Mrs. Mouse. ‘We can’t open them, no matter
how much we try. I like little cardboard boxes best that we can nibble
through.’
“Now one day the children who lived in the house had been out coasting
all the afternoon. It had been a glorious afternoon, and they had coasted
so hard they were very hungry.
“When they came in they asked their mother for something to eat.
“‘Go and look in the pantry,’ said their mother. ‘You will find biscuits
and jam, and quite a lot to eat in there. As it’s a Saturday afternoon
you may have a little feast.’
“Off went the children to the pantry. Now, the Mice had not been bothered
all afternoon. They had seen the cook leave the kitchen and the pantry
was just off the kitchen.
“‘We’ll have a feast this afternoon,’ said Mother Mouse. And all the
little Mice had thought it was a wonderful scheme to have a regular feast.
“They had been enjoying themselves and having a splendid time when the
children arrived.
“When they heard the door open and the children coming in, the Mice
scampered to their holes and to their hiding places back on the shelves.
They made a great deal of noise, and some of them squealed in their hurry
to get past each other.
“‘The pantry is full of Mice,’ said the children.
“Meanwhile the Mice were saying, ‘They heard us, and now they know that
we are living here. Well, we’ll just have to move—that’s all. For somehow
people don’t like to have Mice for visitors. It’s very foolish of them,
but they don’t like us!’
“‘Well,’ said Mr. Mouse, ‘we might as well make the best of it. Besides
this has been a very nice home and perhaps we’ll be lucky and find
another.’
“‘I hope it will be just as nice,’ said Mrs. Mouse, as they all followed
Mr. Mouse in his search for a new pantry!”
FEBRUARY 2: In the Sea
“In the sea,” said daddy, “and far away in the tropics where the plants
and birds and animals are very different from here, there are floating
plant creatures known as Portuguese Men-of-War.
“The reason they’ve been given this name is because some one who was
about to name them decided they looked like old battleships. The
Portuguese Man-of-War is made up of many little creatures all joined
together, just as though many of us were all fastened together in our
villages or in our country places.
“Some of these creatures are very different from each other. The
Portuguese Man-of-War is quite large, and when it is like this it is
filled by a kind of gas which enters into it and which makes it look even
larger than it is.
“It is beautifully colored and it floats on top of the water.
“These parts are the large members of the colony. The rest of them, or
rather a second kind of members of the family, hang from under the side
of these—many little creatures which form the largest part of the colony.
“Many of them are small and trumpet-shaped, and they are the ones who do
the marketing and get the food for the rest.
“Then there are members of the colony who also hang from under the many
members on top, and they are the fingers or the feelers for the community.
“There are still others who look like bunches of grapes, and they
look after the baby creatures who come to form a part of this strange
animal-plant.
“Still more of them are like great long ribbons and they are armed with
cells which sting and slay young fishes down in the water. Then they
bring up the food to the other members of the family.
“So, you see, this whole big community of many-colored little creatures,
which are a kind of animal-plant life, all help each other. And they are
all of many beautiful colors, and add as much to the beauty of the sea as
anything else.
“But I want to make it quite clear that they are all together as a plant
would be, and yet each has its purpose in life, whether it be to market
or get the fish or look after the eggs.
“Lately I have seen in a great museum in one of the large cities a copy
of one of these colonies made out of blown glass.
“There you can see the colors, for without the colors you can’t half
imagine how lovely it is. The little creatures are lovely lavenders, and
green, and purples, and browns, and pinks—all like a lovely mass of soft
and delicate colors.
“So that the Portuguese Man-of-War and its little inhabitants are
becoming better known.”
FEBRUARY 3: The Circus Dream
“I want to tell you the story this evening,” said daddy, “of a little boy
named Jay Rial.
“Jay Rial was as nice a little boy as any one could ever hope to see.
Every one liked him and he liked people, too. But the thing he loved
above everything else in the world was the circus.
“He loved the sound of the train whistle which brought the circus to
town, and he loved the old circus which used to travel by the road and
not come by the train at all. He loved the circus band, the clowns, the
animals. He loved the very tent itself, the smell of peanuts, the roars
of the lions, the beautiful ladies who rode the beautiful horses.
“He loved the performers, and every time he went to a circus he wished
his eyes were bigger so he could see more, and he wished that circus
people didn’t have to go to sleep at all.
“He used to follow the circus parade as it came through the town and he
didn’t mind if it was always late, for he could go to the circus grounds
with some of the other boys and see them unpack, and maybe he could
sometimes help a little, too!
“Once he had been allowed to stand in the middle of the sawdust-covered
ring when they were fixing up the tent. That had been a great moment.
“There was only one thing about circus day which ever made him sad. That
was that sometimes people couldn’t afford to go to the circus. He had
been very lucky. He was always able to do chores for his mother and daddy
around circus time and he could make enough money for a ticket.
“But there were some little boys and girls who couldn’t do that, or whose
mothers and daddies couldn’t afford to do that for them.
“‘If I ever get to be a big man,’ said little Jay Rial, ‘I’m going to
take just as many children to the circus with me as I can.’
“Little Jay Rial called it his circus-dream. And sometimes he would
really dream that he was taking hundreds and hundreds of little boys and
girls whose faces had been sad and teary because they hadn’t thought they
were going to the circus. He had dreamed of how they would follow after
him and would say:
“‘Me, too?’
“And he would smile at them and say, ‘Yes, all of you!’
“It was a beautiful dream.
“Now there are many people who dream of doing something fine when they
have more money or when they’re grown up and who forget it when that time
comes.
“They will excuse themselves by saying, ‘Yes, I have more money than I
used to have, but I find I need it all,’ instead of doing more than they
had been able to do before. There are little boys who say, ‘When I grow
up I’m going to see that poor children get ice-cream once in a while.’
But when they grow up they forget and they don’t realize that there are
lots of children in hospitals and in homes who very seldom receive visits
from the ice-cream man.
“Now Jay Rial was different. He remembered. When he grew up he went into
the circus business. He was the one who would tell the newspapers in the
different towns in advance when the circus was coming to town so every
one could look forward to it.
“And he remembered his circus dream.
“So every year when the circus came to the very biggest city they
visited, grown up Jay Rial arranged that every child in every hospital or
home or any child who was crippled and not as fortunate as other children
should come to the circus free.
“They arranged one afternoon when no one need buy a ticket but when
every seat was free. And yet, that wasn’t enough for Jay Rial. When the
hospitals and homes sent in their lists of the numbers of children who
would be able to go to the circus the lists grew so long that the place
wouldn’t hold them all.
“Do you suppose Jay Rial said, ‘Sorry, but we’ve room for no more?’ Not a
bit of it. He had another circus party for those who couldn’t come to the
first.
“And Jay Rial’s face was full of smiles as he looked at the thousands of
children who were shrieking with joy over the circus, and he said, ‘My
dream has come true.’
“But,” ended daddy, “Jay Rial is one of those people who help to make
dreams come true.”
FEBRUARY 4: Little Mildred’s Muff
“Mildred had lost her muff,” said daddy. “She lived in a small town near
a big city. She went to school in the city. Every morning she took the
train into the city and came back by train in the afternoon. When she
got home that afternoon she told her mother and daddy what had happened.
Mildred’s daddy said that he would telephone to the railway station to
see if anything had been seen of it. Mildred stood by listening.
“‘Mildred,’ said her daddy, ‘they’re asking me if your muff had a head on
it. Did it?’
“‘Oh, let me talk, daddy!’ And Mildred grabbed the receiver.
“‘Yes, yes,’ she cried excitedly into the telephone; ‘it had a black
fox’s head on it!’ Then she heard the joyful words:
“‘I think it has been found and brought here.’
“Mildred could hardly wait until the morning came. Then she went with her
daddy to the lost and found department of the railway station.
“As soon as she got inside she cried, ‘There is my muff over there
with all those umbrellas and books!’ And she jumped up and down with
happiness.”
FEBRUARY 5: The Coal-Bin
“I’m proud, that is what I am,” said a large piece of coal in the
coal-bin. “There was a song written once about a king named Coal.”
“But,” said another piece of coal, “you have the idea, I believe, that
his name was spelt as our name is spelt. I think that is wrong. The king
spelt his name Cole. The song you mean goes like this, ‘Old King Cole was
a merry old soul.’ Isn’t that the one you mean?”
“Yes,” said the large piece of coal which had spoken first. “That is
the old song I mean. A fine one it is, to be sure. But what care I how
the king spelt his name, or how the person who wrote the song spelt it?
My grandfather once lived in a king’s coal-bin in a great palace. That
is, he must have. Of course he never told me about it myself for he was
burnt before I came around. But one of my grandfathers must have been in
a king’s coal-bin and maybe he is still there. Kings must have coal-bins
and be kept warm, mustn’t they?
“Perhaps I’ve a little cousin this very moment crackling and sizzling and
burning for a king, who knows?
“But, now I come to think of it I don’t believe Old King Cole was good
enough to belong to our family. He had to call for things all the time,
whereas we are called for!
“Yes, people want us. They never knew before how much they appreciated
us. They didn’t know it until we became a little scarce.”
“Yes,” said the other pieces of coal, “we can now hold up our coal heads
and say to all the world, ‘Well, now what do you think of the coal-bin?
You think a lot of it if we’re within it, and if the coal-bin is
empty—ah, you’re sad!’
“Yes, that shows our importance. People talk about coal nowadays. They
go around asking each other if they have enough coal. And people usually
answer by saying that they are getting along all right but they would
like to have more.
“They would like to have more of us, we, the fine pieces of coal, the
coal which is at last appreciated, the coal which at last gets thanks for
the warmth it gives, and the coal which is missed so sadly when it isn’t
around!”
FEBRUARY 6: In Dreamland
“We’ve got lots of work to do to-night,” said the Dream King, and the
Dream Fairies said, “What have we to do?”
“Well,” said the Dream King, “in talking to the Fairy Queen this
afternoon, she said that she had quite a lot to tell me and she looked
very sad.
“It seems that there have been many children lately she has heard telling
each other unkind things they have heard about each other.
“For instance, she heard one little girl say to another little girl, ‘Oh,
Sally, I heard Mamie say she thought you were awfully mean and selfish. I
told her I didn’t think so. I stood up for you. I was your friend.’
“Well, the Fairy Queen said that made her mad. She said it was far worse
of the little girl who came and told such a horrid thing than it even was
in the little girl who had said it.
“I am going to give dreams to lots and lots of children who have said
mean things. I am going to show them a huge room full of children and
all the children will be crying and sobbing, and there won’t be enough
handkerchiefs to go around.
“And I will tell them that these children are crying because of the mean
speeches they have heard repeated.
“Hurry, Dream Fairies, tie up the dreams for me to take around. You know
what I want now.
“And, Dream Fairies,” continued the Dream King, “I’m going to tell each
girl and boy how every mean speech she or he thinks of and doesn’t make,
or doesn’t repeat, will come straight to Dreamland and every week we
will have a great big bonfire of them. Then all the Dream Fairies will
laugh and sing as the mean speeches are burnt up.”
FEBRUARY 7: How the Inkfishes Protect Themselves
“Inkfishes,” said daddy; “aren’t black at all. In fact, they look very
much like the ordinary jellyfish. But they are called inkfishes because
when an enemy comes near them they drop ink out of an ink pocket they
have near their mouths. You see, they can see perfectly through the ink,
but the other fishes can’t and so when they dive down again and again and
try to catch the inkfishes, they can’t do it. The water is so black they
can’t see anything and they flounder off into the clear water, while the
inkfishes keep out of their way.