hard nature. But he never flinched.
Time and time again Washington saw his men suffering or deserting. But
Washington suffered with them and he never lost courage.
Time and time again Washington was doubted; jealous groups tried to work
against him. But Washington went straight on, doing as he should and not
stooping to “play favorites” or to be a “favorite.”
There was the time, too, when the country he loved doubted him, and
showed him cruel ingratitude. But Washington did not turn from his
course. It was the hardest of all to bear but he was the Father of his
Country and—his children did come back to him.
And then—when everywhere people were singing his praises, shouting them,
exclaiming them, Washington never lost his head.
He never let his own little inner feelings of likes and dislikes keep him
from being fair.
Always fair, always just, always true to the country whose government he
really made, he is the Father of his Country in truth.
After the Revolutionary War, as after all wars, the country was in a
frightfully upset state and the people were the same. Then it was that
Washington held together the country, made its government, and slowly but
steadily brought order out of the most frightful disorder.
In those days people traveled by stage-coach; cities were small and far
apart, the country was spread out and rumors and prejudices were hard to
overcome.
But all of these tangled threads and oh, so tangled were they, Washington
unraveled!
His Christmas Days, too—often how unlike Christmas they were! One was
spent at Valley Forge when everything was frozen and the men went forth
seeking food. Another was spent at New Windsor where the suffering from
the cold had been intense, but there was brightness that day because
of the arrival of a great wagon filled with shirts and warm clothing
for Washington and his men. And yet another Christmas was that when the
famous crossing of the Delaware River took place.
Washington—whom historians all call very great.
Washington—the Father of his Country!
FEBRUARY 23: The Stamp Traveler
“I am very superior,” said the Postage Stamp. “I travel all over the
world. My family have always traveled. We don’t stay in one place—of
course sometimes we do—but more often we go away. Now and again our
little one-cent brothers go about the town, but we, the noble two-cent
stamps, how we travel.”
“You don’t travel any more than we do,” said the Envelope upon which the
stamp was stuck fast.
“I disagree with you,” said the Stamp.
“That makes no difference to me,” said the Envelope. “But if you disagree
with me, why don’t you leave me?”
“I can’t,” said the Stamp.
“Of course you can’t, you poor dear,” said the Ink which had made the
address on the envelope. “You’re stuck to the Envelope, and no matter how
hard you quarrel you still have to stick.”
“Well, I’d like to know if you don’t have to stay on too,” said the Stamp.
“Ah, but I have fun when I’m being put on. Sometimes I make a nice smudgy
spot, and then the Creature who has been writing with me does not know
what to do.
“The Creature will argue like this, ‘Now shall I let the Envelope go as
it is, or shall I address a fresh one? There is something queer about
this Ink.’ Then it is that I chuckle. ‘No,’ the Creature continues, ‘I
think I will not notice the smudgy spot. Maybe the persons getting it
will think that the rain has made it look so badly—rain often gets at a
letter.’
“And so the Creature blames it on the rain, and I go off quite free.”
“That’s not to your credit when you’re guilty,” said the Envelope.
“We mustn’t quarrel,” said the Postage Stamp, “as now we’re off for a
trip. The man is putting us in a bag. Then we go on a train—then to a new
Post Office, and at last we reach the place for which we started.”
“Yes,” said the Ink, “the place I have marked with my ink!”
FEBRUARY 24: How Rowdy Shared His Home
“Rowdy was a beautiful and very handsome bulldog. He had a lovely white
throat, too, and when he went out into the street he wore a fine big
collar, which made him look very distinguished,” said daddy, “and he
belonged to a little boy named Alfred. Alfred’s mother was a very rich
lady, and Rowdy had all the comforts that any dog could possibly ask for.
He slept in Alfred’s room in a beautiful basket.
“Alfred and Rowdy were really inseparable companions. Alfred was not a
very strong little boy. He couldn’t join in all the sports that other
little boys enjoy. Because of Alfred’s ill health he and Rowdy were all
the better companions.
“Alfred had a phonograph, which he used to play a great deal. Rowdy would
sit before it, so delighted at the music. He’d put his head first on one
side and then on the other. Of course Alfred would talk to him and ask
him how he was enjoying the music. Rowdy would wag his tail to show he
thought it was fine.
“In the afternoons Alfred and his mother used to take drives in a lovely
big open Victoria. One afternoon it was beautifully bright and sunny.
Alfred’s mother said:
“‘We’ll go for a nice long drive to-day.’
“‘Rowdy!’ called Alfred, for Rowdy was fast asleep on the sofa.
“Rowdy jumped up eagerly as if he knew something pretty nice was going to
happen.
“‘Rowdy, how would you like to take a drive? Speak and say if you would
like it.’
“So Rowdy wagged his tail and gave a bark as if to say, ‘Charmed!’
Rowdy’s best collar was put on, and off they started. They had not gone
far before they passed a poor, pathetic little waif dog. Rowdy was not
snobbish and proud as some dogs might have been, brought up in all the
comforts he had always had. Instead he seemed to feel very sorry for
the little waif dog and whined sadly. Then he tried to jump out of the
carriage.
“‘Do you want to take the little waif dog driving?’ said Alfred to Rowdy.
And Rowdy showed as well as he could that he would like that tremendously.
“They took the poor little homeless dog back with them and gave him good
food and a nice home. Rowdy seemed to be glad to give such happiness to a
little friendless dog, and he seemed to feel that it was giving the dog
rare pleasure to have a master like Alfred.”
FEBRUARY 25: The Tired Eagles
“In the house where Kenneth lived there was a chair which had always
fascinated him. It was a very, very old chair, and Kenneth’s mother and
daddy were very proud of it,” said daddy to Jack and Evelyn. “Kenneth’s
daddy had bought it at a sale of old and curious things. It was a Roman
chair, and on either side were two heads of eagles. These four heads in
all always made Kenneth wonder, for they looked so very life-like. He
used to imagine that even little wooden eagles must get very tired of
always being just the same. And late one afternoon, sitting in the chair
he fell asleep.
“‘You’re terribly tired, aren’t you?’ said the first eagle, who suddenly
seemed to be looking at him.
“‘Yes, I’m a little tired,’ Kenneth admitted.
“‘Well, you’re not as tired as we are,’ said the second eagle.
“‘No, indeed!’ said the third eagle. ‘You’re only tired because you’ve
played so many games. We’re tired because we’re always still.’
“Kenneth listened eagerly, because he’d so often thought just what he was
hearing. ‘Yes,’ said Kenneth very sympathetically, ‘I should think you
would be very dull. I’ve often thought that. Have you been there a long
time?’
“‘Oh, ages and ages!’ replied the fourth eagle, who up to this time had
not spoken. ‘We were very old before your daddy got us. We’ve been on
this chair so long. We can’t remember how long. And what makes us feel so
sad is that we are called eagles and should fly and yet are forever glued
to this chair.’
“‘Kenneth, Kenneth,’ cried Kenneth’s mother, ‘it’s long past bed-time!’
“‘Oh, I am not so tired as the eagles are!’ said Kenneth. And Kenneth’s
mother wondered if he was talking in his sleep.”
[Illustration: “‘WE’VE BEEN ON THIS CHAIR SO LONG,’ SAID THE FOURTH
EAGLE.”—_Page 44_]
FEBRUARY 26: The Squirrels’ Peanut Hunt
“A little girl named Polly,” began daddy, “lived near a park. In this
park were a great many squirrels. They were principally gray, with great,
long bushy tails, and they were very tame. Polly had often fed them
peanuts, but she thought it would be lots of fun to have a real peanut
hunt. So she ran around as quickly as she could, hiding the peanuts from
her bag.
“First one very old fat squirrel found three peanuts hidden under a rock.
“He called to the other squirrels and waved his bushy tail in the air,
trying to say, ‘There are peanuts if we will hunt for them!’
“The squirrels didn’t stop to eat the peanuts after they discovered that
there were so many hidden. They just kept on getting more and more until
finally they had succeeded in finding them all.
“Then they began to carry the peanuts to their little homes, and they
looked so happy, just as if they were free from cares or worries for days
to come, for, of course, they didn’t have to worry about meals for ever
and ever so long with the wonderful supply they now had on hand.”
FEBRUARY 27: The Game of Manners
“I must tell you a story about the game of good manners which they play
in a large public school in a big city,” said daddy. “They are let into
the secret that it’s a lesson, but it is a play-time lesson and they
have it in connection with their gymnasium and play-time work, though it
doesn’t take the place of recess.
“And they grow to understand their teachers better, who are teaching them
the game of manners and they get on so much better when both teachers and
pupils understand each other and really like each other.
“For example, they hear a story of a little boy who didn’t want to wash
his hands or face and who became so dirty that he found himself without
any companion except a pig.
“After they have heard such a story they all act it out, one taking the
part of the dirty little boy, and the others of the people he met who
wouldn’t play with him or have anything to do with him, or invite him
into their homes, or anything nice like that.
“And they take turns in having the story about a boy and about a girl.
“They hear a story of a very rude boy or girl and of how he grew up into
a cross man or woman, and they hear of his adventures and what horrible
times he had making others miserable as well as himself.
“Then they act out these stories in their classes where they have
dramatics and different ones take the parts of the bad child or the
unmannerly child or the unmannerly grown-up, and of all the people whom
these met with in their adventures.
“And oh, what laughter there is when a boy makes a mistake in acting his
part of the teacher and in being very unlike the teacher and more like
himself which of course is quite natural. Yes, the game of good manners
is a great and successful game in this school where there are three
thousand and six hundred boys and girls.”
FEBRUARY 28: Naughty Julius
“There is nothing more dreadful to my mind,” said daddy, “than a little
boy who is mean to other children not so big and strong as he is. I once
knew a little boy like that and will tell you about him this evening.
“The little boy’s name was Julius.
“A family came to live one day in the house opposite where Julius lived.
The house had been vacant for a long time, so Julius was delighted when
he found he was to have neighbors. What was his disappointment, though,
to find that the family opposite consisted only of a mother, daddy and a
little sick boy named Hugh. He was cross when he saw Hugh’s little pale
face at the window opposite. He would laugh at him until he saw the tears
trickle down Hugh’s face and he would turn away from the window.
“One day Julius’ mother came to him and said, ‘Julius, it is very cruel
to make fun of a little sick boy, and I will tell you what is the trouble
with Hugh.
“‘Hugh had his right foot frozen last winter, and he has had to have it
taken off. To-day he is going out for the first time on his crutches,’
concluded his mother.
“Julius kept very quiet, but inwardly he was planning something very mean
to do. He waited around for some time, and still no sign of Hugh. At last
he saw him, so he shrieked from the window, ‘Hello, tenderfoot!’
“Hugh was bound he would be brave, so he beat back the tears. Julius
rushed downstairs and out into the street.
“Just at that moment a fast motor-car came along. Julius did not see it,
but Hugh did, and as his little voice was too weak to rise above Julius’
laughter he hobbled on his crutches and pulled Julius out of the way just
in the nick of time. Oh, how frightened Julius was! And his escape from
some terrible injury seemed marvelous.
“In a flash he saw what it would have meant to him to have no football,
no skating, no sports, and the little crippled Hugh he had laughed at and
who had so much to bear had saved him.
“Hugh forgave Julius, and they became fast friends from that time, and
Julius never forgot that Hugh had saved his life.”
FEBRUARY 29: The Whistling Boy
“I am going to tell you a story,” said daddy, “about a whistling boy. It
is a true story too. The boy was asked to a party and he went.
“All the children were playing games—follow the leader, prisoner’s base,
blind man’s buff, hide and go seek, still-pond-no-more-moving, and many
other games.
“They asked him if he wanted to play and he put his hands in his pockets
and whistled. Then they had supper and they asked him if he liked creamed
chicken and he whistled.
“They asked him if he liked ice-cream and he whistled. And as he whistled
the same three notes whenever he was asked anything they didn’t know
whether he liked ice-cream or not.
“They gave him some supper when everything was passed around and he
whistled when he took his plates and his cup of cocoa. When he had
finished, without saying a word to any other children he got up, put his
hands in his pockets once more and whistled.
“The children began to giggle, for they thought he was such a funny boy,
and a funny boy he was. He had been rather spoilt and he hadn’t really
learned to play with other children.
“They felt very sorry for him, but still he wouldn’t say a word or do
anything. They had asked him to the party because he had just come to the
town to live and they thought he must be lonely.
“Well, when he got home he felt very badly, as many shy people do who
have been rude because they were so shy they didn’t know what to say, and
so did the wrong thing.
“He cried when he was going to bed. And he was much ashamed of himself,
for he thought it was a dreadful thing for a boy to cry.
“After a while he went to sleep, and in his sleep the Dream King came to
him.
“‘I’ll help you,’ said the Dream King, ‘and I will not let you behave as
badly as you did this afternoon if I can help it. For listen, Boy. If
you whistle again instead of talking and playing I will take away your
tongue for a whole month and you won’t be able to make any sound.’
“And the dream seemed so real to the boy that he tried his best to act as
other boys, and he succeeded too.”
MARCH 1: Lucy’s Tonsils
Now, there were two tonsils and they had made their home in Lucy’s throat.
Tonsils always make their homes in throats. They do not care for other
kinds of homes.
They are all alike in that way.
Now people are very different. Some people like to have their homes in
country places. Others like to have their homes in big cities where there
are crowds and crowds of people.
Still others like to have their homes in seaside places, so they can be
neighbors of dear old Mother Ocean.
But tonsils like to make their homes in throats. And these twin Tonsils
were in Lucy’s throat.
One Tonsil was named Ton Tonsil and the other was Tom Tonsil.
“Hello, Ton,” said Tom, “are you up to mischief?”
“Indeed I am,” said Ton. “I’m causing trouble. How about you?”
“Doing all I can think of and I’ve a good many pranks left to play, too,”
said Tom. “I tell you what, we have a loyal and faithful little friend in
Susy Sore Throat. She’s a mean one.
“She’s a good playmate for us. She’s going to be with us to-day. Gracious
me, it’s surprising how Susy does turn up, and half the time no one knows
from where she comes.
“She’s going to bring her little half-brother along with her—you
know—Ronald Raw Throat. They’re very fond of being together.”
“I think we’ll have a fine party,” said Ton Tonsil. “I feel puffed up
with excitement already.”
“So do I,” said Tom.
“I tell you Lucy’s throat is a fine home for us,” said Ton.
“Yes,” said Tom, “it’s gorgeous. We have had lots of room to grow big
with pride, and we have. We’ve grown big with Tonsil pride.
“They say it’s not nice for Tonsils to grow so proud because they’ve
nothing to be proud of—but gracious me, that is just the point.
“Things that have no reason to be puffed up and proud are usually the
kind that are most conceited.
“And those creatures who are modest and not conceited are usually the
ones who can do things. You’ll almost always find it is that way.”
“That’s the way it usually is,” said Ton. “Well, we mustn’t talk any
more. We must get bigger and bigger and just let Lucy know we’re making
ourselves quite at home in her throat.
“In fact, she needn’t think she has any rights to her own throat. We’re
the ones with rights.”
“And don’t forget us,” said the little Adenoid Cousins. “Don’t forget us.”
“We won’t,” said the Tonsil Twins. “We won’t forget you.”
Along then came Susy Sore Throat and Ronald Raw Throat, and Carrie Cold
came too, and so did Clarence Cough. Oh, they all came and had a party in
Lucy’s throat.
Well, they liked the party so much that they came again and again.
Sometimes they had little parties and sometimes big parties.
One day, however, Lucy decided to let her Tonsils know that they could
not make their home any longer in her throat.
So she went to the big doctor who had promised to take them out and who
had told her that she would get rid of those wretched little Twins.
It wasn’t pleasant to think of getting rid of the Twins. They wouldn’t
come out by a mere kind word. No, they had to be cut out. Harsh ways had
to be used with them. But Lucy was brave—and she knew that once she got
rid of those wretches her throat would never again be the place for the
Tonsil parties.
So the big doctor took the Tonsil Twins out and their Adenoid Cousins
along with them, and the Tonsils wept red tears as they left Lucy, but
they said each to the other:
“It was all our fault for behaving as we did!”
MARCH 2: Lucy’s Visitors
The Tonsil Twins had been taken away from Lucy’s throat and no longer did
they make their home there and give the horrible parties they had been
giving for so long a time. And, while Susy Sore Throat was leaving, nice
visitors came to see Lucy.
A most attractive little toy wooden bunny came. His ears could be moved
up and down and a most roguish look he would have when one ear was up and
the other down.
Lucy gave him chicken broth and he was extremely pleased.
If he had not been afraid his wooden face would have cracked he would
surely have smiled. For it was pleasant indeed when one was only a little
wooden bunny rabbit to be given chicken broth.
It was most superior chicken broth, too. Oh, yes, for it had been made
for Lucy and was made so as to give her lots of extra strength.
Besides the toy bunny a rag doll came to see Lucy. Yes, a very lovable
sweet rag doll came to visit her.
She wore a little knitted hood on her head and a little sweater and a
knitted scarf to keep her warm.
And she had a pair of warm knitted shoes. She wore her outside jacket,
too, over her sweater, and she took along her little apron, so she could
wear that when she played, so as not to hurt her good dress.
Oh, yes, the rag doll was going to play with Lucy and have an excellent
time.
Then many members of the game family came to call on Lucy. They, too,
came ready for play. Yes, there is nothing in the world that a game is
more ready for than a good play.
Then people came to see Lucy, too, and congratulate her on the fact that
the Tonsil Twins and the Adenoid Cousins had left.
A lovely gray felt bunny and a brown felt monkey always were with Lucy.
They had always belonged to her and, though new visitors came, they did
not leave her. The monkey put his arm around the bunny and with his other
arm on the pillow by Lucy he looked most comfortable.
He hadn’t left her when she had gone to have the Tonsil Twins out. He had
been such a comfort. Of course, when they were actually to be taken out
he had to stay behind, but he was with her just as long as he could be
and he joined her again as soon as he could.
“Well,” he was saying to the gray rabbit, “I’m laughing up my sleeve.”
“How can you do that?” asked the rabbit. “You haven’t any sleeve and you
aren’t laughing up your arm. You’re not even turning your mouth in that
direction.
“What do you mean by saying that?”
“Oh, it is just an expression,” said the monkey. “When Creatures say
they’re laughing up their sleeve it does not really mean that they’re
holding open their sleeve and saying:
“‘Ha, ha, ha,’ up it. But it means they’re laughing inwardly or to
themselves or so no one can see their laughter. That is what the
expression means.
“So, you see no one can see my laughter, but I’m laughing all right at
the good joke played on those wretched Tonsil Twins!”
Just then there came another visitor. This time it was the prince of
desserts—Prince Ice-Cream. Proudly the Prince came in on the best and
most royal of saucers and just at that moment Susy Sore Throat left for
good and all.
[Illustration: “A LOVELY FELT BUNNY AND A BROWN FELT MONKEY ALWAYS WERE
WITH LUCY.”—_Page 50_]
MARCH 3: The Homesick Puppy
Daddy had a story about a little dog that he knew would please both the
children.
“Would you like to hear of a little dog who was homesick?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Evelyn, “we would love to hear about it—that is, if he didn’t
die of homesickness.”
“No, indeed,” said daddy, “this little dog didn’t die of homesickness,
for he was sent home again and then was perfectly happy.
“He was the pet puppy of his mother, and he had told the man who had sold
him to a little girl that he didn’t want to go.
“The man who sold him thought that the little girl would give him such a
nice home, and so she did, but the little puppy wanted more than just a
nice home. He wanted his mother.
“Of course the little girl hadn’t hesitated a moment about buying him,
for he was a beautiful little Boston bull, and she promised him that she
would make him happy.
“Now, when the little girl reached home with her puppy she gave him a
great big bowl of the most delicious warm milk and a good puppy biscuit.
But the puppy wouldn’t touch the milk and biscuit.
“At bedtime the little girl showed the puppy his basket, which was nice
and soft and comfortable. She thought that after a good night’s rest he
would be hungry for his breakfast and feel better.
“But morning came, and the puppy still refused to eat. And, would you
believe it, hours passed, and the puppy still would not eat.
“Then the little girl decided that the only thing to be done was to take
her beautiful puppy back to his mother.
“She ordered her pony cart to be ready for a certain hour, and off she
started, holding the puppy by her side.
“When the puppy came near his home and began to see familiar sights it
was all she could do to keep him in the cart, and when they were right by
his home she could not hold him, for with a bound he was out and frisked
and jumped over his mother, and she did the same, looking as if they
would almost kill each other with joy.
“‘I guess he had better stay home,’ said the man.
“‘Yes,’ answered the little girl, ‘this is where he belongs.’”
MARCH 4: Lady Ethel
“I want to tell you a story this evening of the horse called Lady Ethel,”
said daddy.
“One time Lady Ethel’s master took a long ride far out into the country
away from where people lived.
“He felt quite ill after he had ridden a long way, and all of a sudden he
got quite dizzy and fell.
“Lady Ethel pulled him out of the road and off to one side so no one
taking the same road would go dashing over him by mistake.
“And then she went back home, all the distance alone, and neighed so that
the people came out with her and found her master.
“He was quite ill after that, for he had been feeling poorly when he had
started out on his ride, but if it hadn’t been for Lady Ethel he wouldn’t
have had the chance to have been taken home and put back to bed and
nursed back to health.
“He said he was grateful to all who helped him get well, but the one he
was most grateful to of all was the faithful Lady Ethel.
“And every day while he was ill they led her under his window and she
neighed happily after he had called out with as much strength as he could:
“‘Hello, my faithful, fine Lady Ethel!’”
MARCH 5: The Soup