“You don’t say so,” said the milk. “Well, we will be chummy, won’t we?”
“Yes,” said the tomato. “They’re going to make cream of tomato soup. It’s
supposed to be quite delicious. And when we’re both well cooked they will
mix us together and season us up very fine and we’ll be eaten as the
first thing at the meal. Yes, soup is very apt to take the lead. It’s a
leader, soup is.”
“Good,” said the milk. “But how silly to call it cream of tomato soup, if
they’re going to use me. I’m milk, I am.”
“Oh, well,” said the tomato, “let them have their little airs and graces.
And maybe when you’re mixed with me you’re every bit as good as cream.
Who knows!”
MARCH 6: Elephant Ways
“Why did you have your toe-nails cut, your skin oiled, and your feet
sand-papered?” asked Sally of an elephant in the Zoo.
“One question at a time please,” said the elephant. “I can’t answer all
three at once, for then the answers would be all jumbled up. Besides, I
don’t know how to say more than one word at a time.
“My nails were cut because they needed it. And, come to think of it, I
can answer all your questions at once. My feet needed to be sand-papered
and my body needed to be oiled. My skin required it, and so the keeper
looked after me, as he did after my friends here.” This he said waving
his trunk.
“But what do you do when you are not in the Zoo?” asked Sally. “They
don’t have sandpaper and nail scissors in the jungles, do they?”
“Ah, that is where you do not understand, and where the keeper does. In
the wilds I can cut my nails on the great rocks. They keep them short.
Here I cannot do it myself, and so the keeper has to do it for me. And I
get the oil for my skin in the swamps when I’m free, and my feet are kept
hard by the ground and rocks. We do not need the keeper’s scissors and so
forth when we are free, for old Mother Nature looks after those things
for us.”
MARCH 7: The Marbles
“The Marbles,” said daddy, “were very proud because they had been used so
much by boys and girls—especially by boys.
“Then, too, the Elves had played marbles, as years before they had found
out about them and thought they were lots of fun to play with.
“‘You are nothing but an ordinary Marble,’ said one large and very blue
Marble to a little Marble.
“‘But I am useful for playing. And I joggle along and roll much better
than you do. You are so big. You are quite awkward!’
“‘I’d feel pretty badly,’ said the big Marble, ‘if I were as cheap as
you. You cost next to nothing. In fact, you didn’t even cost a cent. Not
one whole cent!’
“The Marble rolled along a little way as if it couldn’t be too near the
cheap Marble.
“‘But a cent bought me,’ said the little Marble.
“‘Yes,’ said the big Marble proudly, ‘it bought you and also a number of
other marbles, too. You were one of five for a cent. One cent bought you
and four others! Now, as for me! well, it took the whole of five cents to
buy me!’
“‘I know it,’ said the little Marble sadly.
“‘My Master only bought me yesterday,’ said the big Marble. ‘His friends
have not seen me. They’ll trade everything for me! Gracious—they’d trade
dozens of little Marbles just for me! I cost five cents!’
“The children had arrived, but they did not seem to want to trade
everything for it! One of them said,
“‘It is a beauty, but then it is not nearly so nice to play with as the
smaller ones; besides, if I gave up a lot of small marbles for that big
one I’d never be able to have a real game.’
“And all the other children said just the same thing.
“They played and they played. But the big Marble was so mad that it
rolled away crookedly and no one thought so much of it.
“After the children had finished playing and had taken their marbles, and
after the Master of the big Marble had put it away with the smaller ones,
the little Marble which had been bought with four others for a cent said,
“‘Well, you may be handsome and big. But you are not nearly such fun as
we are. Sometimes the cheap things are the most fun. It doesn’t mean
because you cost five cents that you can give more pleasure.’
“‘I’m glad I can’t be used all the time like you all are,’ said the big
Marble. ‘I am too fine for little Marbles, anyway.’
“But all the little Marbles were happy because they were the best for the
children’s games.”
MARCH 8: Tomatoes’ Advantages
“The Vegetables,” said daddy, “had been put into the cellar for the
winter. There were the Potatoes, the Apples for cooking, Carrots, the
Squash family and many others. As they were talking the cook came down in
the cellar. ‘Well,’ said she to herself, ‘it’s nice to get something from
the hot-house once in a while. I get so sick of these everlasting winter
vegetables and apples that we keep in the cellar. It’s nice to have a few
Tomatoes for a change.’
“Down she put a box with bright red Tomatoes—just from the hot-house.
“‘Well, Vegetables,’ said the Tomatoes, ‘how do you do?’
“‘We’re quite well,’ said the Vegetables and Apples, who were rather
quiet right now.
“‘I don’t see why I shouldn’t talk to you, though I’m pretty different
from you,’ said the biggest Tomato of all.
“‘And why shouldn’t you be?’ asked Mr. Potato. ‘You have been in a
hot-house, spoilt and petted. You’d be queer if you weren’t superior.
With sun and warmth of course you have a fine color!’ And the Tomatoes
agreed that they had had unusual advantages.”
MARCH 9: The Old Woman and the Pot of Daffodils
“A little girl named Laura,” said daddy, “had been quite ill. One day
she was wondering if she would ever feel like herself again, able to do
things and to play around. She was sitting up by the window in a big
chair. She was looking out, feeling very sad and forlorn, when suddenly
she saw a funny old woman who looked just like a witch stop by the window
and then walk right into the room.
“The funny old woman spoke at once.
“‘Don’t be frightened,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. Instead,
you see this pot of daffodils I am carrying?’
“‘Yes,’ exclaimed Laura. ‘Aren’t they beautiful?’
“‘I am so glad you like them,’ continued the old woman, ‘for they are for
you.’
“‘For me?’ repeated Laura. ‘For me?’
“‘Yes,’ said the old woman. ‘When the spring comes I take a walk each
day, carrying with me a pot of daffodils. When I see some one sitting in
the window of a house looking sick and longing to go out I just go right
in and leave my pot of daffodils, for they are better than any spring
tonic, to my mind.’
“And the yellow flowers smiled at Laura and bobbed their pretty heads,
saying, ‘We’ll make you well.’
“And, sure enough, they really did more toward making Laura well than
anything else. How could she help but feel better with the bright flowers
smiling at her and cheering her up?”
MARCH 10: The Tick-Tock Twins
“Hello, twin Tock,” said Tick, and Tock answered, just as quickly as
anything:
“Hello, Tick.”
They never got tired of saying to each other “Tick” and “Tock.” They
were the two clock twins, as you may have guessed, but sometimes between
their words to each other, sometimes between saying to each other “Tick”
and “Tock,” they talked.
Of course they would only say a few words at a time and those would be
said so very quickly we could not understand them, and anyway Tick and
Tock only talk for each other.
They just speak to each other all day long, as the time goes on.
And they don’t stop at night, but as it would be very hard to understand
their story without leaving out all the ticks and the tocks we will hear
it with those left out.
Really it was like this.
“Hello, Tick.”
“Hello, Tock,” and the “Hello” would be said very quickly so no one else
could hear it.
“Nice-Tick.”
“Nice-Tock.”
“Day-Tick.”
“Day-Tock,” and so on and on, never forgetting the tick and the tock.
“We’re such happy twins,” said Tick.
“Yes,” said Tock, “and we never forsake each other. If one of us can’t
go on, the other won’t go alone. There is never a tick without a tock
following right on behind.”
“Ah, you’re so loyal, Tock,” said Tick.
“And so are you,” said Tock.
“There are many clock twins,” said Tick.
“Many,” agreed Tock.
“Every clock has us,” said Tick.
“Every one,” said Tock.
“And if the clock stops, they stop too.”
“Of course,” said Tock.
“One would never go without the other,” said Tick.
“Of course not,” said Tock.
“It’s nice,” said Tick, “to be so loyal, very nice and very unusual.
Think of how we can always wait for the other, and then follow after!”
“We’re each always following the other,” said Tock.
“I’m glad,” said Tick, “I’m not a boy and you’re not a girl. Then when we
grew up we’d be sent to different schools, and one of us would go into
business and the other might marry and keep house. Dear me, it’s much
nicer to be the clock twins. We’ll never be separated.”
MARCH 11: The Fig
“I’m mad,” said the Fig.
“What are you mad about?” asked the Apple.
The Fig and the Apple were in the fruit dish together, along with an
orange or two and a bunch of grapes.
“What are you mad about?” the rest of the fruit asked.
“Yes, you’d better tell us,” said the Apple. “I’m sure it will make you
feel much, much better.”
“I don’t know whether it will or not,” said the Fig.
“Why don’t you think it will?” asked the Apple.
“Because it might make me cry, and some one might call me a cry baby.”
“My dear Fig,” said the Apple, “no one could ever call you a cry baby,
because even if you cried you’re not a baby.”
“But I’ve heard big boys and big girls called cry babies, and they
weren’t babies,” said the Fig.
“All very true,” said the Apple, “but they behaved as babies and once
they had been babies. That is, each one of them had once been a baby. It
would have been impossible for them to have been more than one baby I
suppose.”
“We suppose so, too,” said the rest of the fruit, as it moved in the
fruit dish a little.
“And,” continued the Apple, “they were behaving as though they hadn’t
grown up into boys and girls by crying over some silly little thing.
“You see, Fig, you have never been a baby. You have been a little fig,
but never a little baby. So you couldn’t be a cry baby, though you might
be a cry fig, or a cry little fig. I’m not sure about that.”
“That wouldn’t sound so badly,” said the Fig. “I will have to tell you
what has made me mad, and what may make me cry at any moment.”
“Tell us,” said the Apple.
“Imagine,” said the Fig, “I heard people speak of a person they knew was
mean and horrid and unfair and all that was dreadful as not being worth a
fig. Oh, that was cruel, cruel.”
“I am so glad you told the story,” said the Apple, “for you are being
unhappy for no reason at all. When any one says that a person isn’t worth
thinking about and he wouldn’t give a fig for that person, it doesn’t
mean an insult to the family of figs, but is simply an expression people
have used for a long, long time.” And the Fig was happy again.
But the Fig was more delighted when a lovely child came by the fruit dish
and taking the Fig said, “I simply love figs.”
MARCH 12: Happy Compton
“In the first place,” said Happy Compton, “I’m a dog. I’m not any special
breed. I’m not what is known as a thoroughbred, but they say I’m brighter
than a great many thoroughbreds. I’m glad they think I’m bright, and that
they like me.
“I was a little waif dog first of all. Louise and Ada had been promised a
dog. Their daddy had told them that the first chance he had he would go
and buy them a dog. Then I came along, a lonely, homeless little waif dog.
“They took me in and fed me and loved me and made me warm and happy.
“When their daddy asked them about the dog he was to buy for them Louise
said:
“‘Such dogs as those, in kennels, which are for sale, will get homes, for
they will be in good condition, but this is a homeless little dog and I’d
rather have him. He will be happy here and he will be loved here. No one
could love him more than I do.’
“‘Except the way I love him,’ said Ada, and to prove how much she loved
me she put me down by her on the pillow and covered me up and then Louise
stroked my head and I went off into the dreamland of dogs.
“They both loved me so right away and they still love me so, and I know
how much they always will love me.
“Because they could see how happy I was to be no longer homeless and
miserable they called me Happy. It’s such a nice name, and they have
given me their last name, too—Happy Compton. Isn’t that fine?”
MARCH 13: Ice Box and Furnace
Now the furnace and the ice box were both in a big cellar. The ice box
was some distance away from the furnace, but still they were in the same
cellar. The ice box was near a door, which was by some steps. These steps
led up to the kitchen of the house and every one came down to the ice box
to get out the food which was going to be used and the milk and all such
things which belong in an ice box.
Of course, half of the year the furnace wasn’t doing anything, and in the
winter time the ice box did not have nearly so much ice given to it.
“I feel sorry for you,” said the furnace. “Here you are so cold and you
haven’t even enough warmth about you to make the ice melt quickly as it
does in the summer time.
“You have to be so cold always; even in the winter you have to be cold.
That is the saddest of all. In the summer I’m not so hot myself but as
soon as a cold day comes I am ready to be warm.”
“Ah, furnace, you mustn’t boast too much,” said the ice box. “I’ve heard
the family having great trouble with you. There are days, sometimes the
cold, cold ones, too, when you won’t burn. I’ve even known you to go out
sometimes.
“And oh, how you have made the family shiver. You have made them fuss
over you.”
“And why shouldn’t they fuss over me?” asked the furnace. “I’m the
furnace, I am; the great and warm and powerful furnace. I keep the whole
house warm. I keep all the people in it warm.”
“But you don’t keep them warm when you go out and when you go slowly and
when you won’t burn nicely,” said the ice box.
“That is to show that I won’t let any one think I’m so unimportant that I
don’t have to be noticed and fussed over.”
“It shows that sometimes you are very mean, furnace. Important and great
and wise and clever creatures don’t have to be fussed over. They’re above
it.”
“Look here, young ice box,” said the furnace, “I don’t want any rules
from you. You are a fine thing to talk about a creature keeping warm.
What warmth do you ever give to any one, I’d like to know?”
“You’re right, furnace, I don’t give any warmth. But I am not supposed
to, and you are. I am supposed to keep the ice and to make folks cool in
the hot summer and make the food keep nice and fresh and cool. I do my
work, I do. And you should do yours, you should.”
“I do it all right, never fear,” said the furnace, though it knew that
many a time it had behaved badly. But now it was mad and it went for
all it was worth and the ice box chuckled and said to itself, “The poor
people have been saying how cold they were and how badly the furnace was
behaving. Now the furnace is mad and will behave by burning and raging
for all it is worth.”
And the furnace burned angrily and furiously and how nice and warm the
people kept on that cold winter’s day!
MARCH 14: The Pet Dogs
“There were five dogs,” said daddy, “who belonged to a boy who was named
Jack.
“Brutus was the largest of all. He was a big Newfoundland dog. Next came
Bogi, another Newfoundland dog, but not so large as Brutus.
“Third came Patty, an Irish terrier. Then came Ouji, a cocker spaniel,
and last came Susy, a little fox terrier. When they all stood together
they looked like a flight of stairs, and just as though one could walk
from Susy right up to Brutus.
“‘Ah,’ said Patty, ‘I see something coming my way.’
“All the other dogs looked and Patty said, ‘There is a bug and I’m going
to catch it.’
“But the bug said to itself, ‘I’ll play a joke on that dog.’ And the bug
did play a joke, a very mean joke.
“Patty snapped at the bug and then was about to swallow it when she had
gotten the bug on her tongue, when what should that mean bug do but turn
itself over so that it attached itself to Patty’s tongue, and so Patty
couldn’t swallow it or eat it or anything!
“Then Brutus had a fine idea. He ran for Jack, for he had seen Jack go to
a near-by field to play baseball.
“He ran just as hard as he could and when he reached the field he didn’t
even notice the baseball which had just been hit with the bat.
“The boys were awfully frightened for a moment as they thought Brutus
might get hit by accident with the hard ball, and they called out to him,
but Brutus wasn’t thinking of being afraid of anything.
“But luckily the ball didn’t hit Brutus, and Brutus went right on up to
his master, barking, and showing by his eyes that he wanted to have Jack
follow him.
“‘I guess Brutus wants me for something,’ said Jack, ‘for he wouldn’t
come to the baseball field if it weren’t for something important.’
“So Jack ran quickly home, following Brutus. There he found Patty with
the bug on her tongue and feeling most uncomfortable.
“Jack quickly took the bug off and then Patty no longer looked sick and
miserable.
“She jumped up on Jack and wagged her tail and her eyes looked very glad
and happy as she tried to thank her master. And then she did quite the
sweetest thing ever a dog did. She suddenly seemed to know that Brutus
was the one who had done everything.
“Jack had come quickly when Brutus had called him, for Jack was always so
good to his pets, and Jack had been able to take the bug off her tongue
because he had nice useful hands.
“But Patty knew that it was Brutus who had gone for Jack, and Brutus who
had brought him back so quickly.
“And Patty went over to Brutus, looking so small beside the great big
Newfoundland dog and she licked Brutus’ paws and rolled over on the
grass, saying to Brutus that she was a very grateful, happy, little dog.
“And then, for a special treat, every one of them had a bone, and Jack
gave himself a piece of cake!” ended daddy.
MARCH 15: Biddle’s Trick
“Biddle the cat,” said daddy, “was very thirsty and he wanted to get a
drink of milk.”
“‘Look,’ one of the family suddenly exclaimed. And from the study they
could see a light in the pantry.
“When they went into the pantry there was Biddle on the pantry shelf and
he had just pressed with his paw the electric light button—so the light
had gone on!
“‘Do you want something, Biddle?’ one of the family asked, after they had
all exclaimed at the wonderful thing which Biddle had just done.
“Biddle purred, and looked at the ice box, and they got some milk for him.
“But don’t you think it was clever of him to get the family into the
pantry by turning on the light? This is a true story of Biddle Birdsall,
the clever gray pussy-cat.”
MARCH 16: The Naughty Colds
Mr. and Mrs. Cold were having a very good time. Now, when most people
have a good time it means that they’re playing or singing or laughing or
dancing or reading or hearing music.
Perhaps it means they’re having a party of some sort, or perhaps it may
mean they’re in swimming or having a picnic. Oh, there are lots and lots
of ways of having good times as every one knows.
But when Mr. and Mrs. Cold have a good time it is something very
different from what we mean by a good time. In the first place, Mr.
and Mrs. Cold are very disagreeable people. They have always been
disagreeable. Their daddy and mother were the same way, and as for Aunt
Grippe and their Uncle Bronchitis—well, they’re horrid old creatures, I
can tell you.
Mr. and Mrs. Cold have very mean children, too. There is Sadie Sneeze,
for example. She has the worst sort of a disposition! She just loves to
plague people and make them as uncomfortable as she can.
Then there is Charlie Cough. He likes to hurt creatures. You can just
imagine how mean he is. And there is Susy Sore Throat, and Hatty
Headache. They are all children of Mr. and Mrs. Cold.
“Let’s go on a trip,” they said to the children.
“All right,” said the children. They always agree to go a-traveling, and
the worst thing about them is that they have many cousins and relations,
and their cousins and relations are just as busy a-traveling as they are!
“I think,” said Mrs. Cold, “we’ll go and call on a little girl named
Annette. She is such a nice little girl, I’d like to make her feel
uncomfortable. Let’s give her a good dose of us.”
And the Cold children clapped their hands.
“Is she nice?” they said. And when their mother and daddy said:
“Oh, she is wonderfully nice,” they were just overjoyed. That is how
mean they are. They love to be horrid to nice, nice boys and girls and
grown-ups!
So they picked up their suitcases with plenty of Sadie Sneeze’s best
frocks, and plenty of Charlie Cough’s extra neckties, and lots of Hatty
Headache’s hair ribbons and Susy Sore Throat’s collars and off they went.
Their hair ribbons and collars and dresses aren’t like nice children’s,
for they are mean like themselves!
“Oh, please,” said Annette, when they all arrived, “I didn’t ask you
to come and see me. I don’t need you. I have a nice daddy and a nice
mother all of my own. I don’t want Mr. and Mrs. Cold, and I have two nice
brothers, and I don’t want any others, or even any sisters. Please go
away.”
But the Cold family paid no attention. They were so mean they liked being
where they weren’t wanted.
But the time passed and the dream king found out that Annette had some
horrid visitors. The dream king hurried to tell the fairy queen about it.
“Did you ever hear of such rudeness and such unkindness as that horrible
Cold family show?” he said.
“We’ll put a stop to this, Dream King,” said the fairy queen. “Thank you
for telling me. I know that little girl Annette. Yes, I know her well.
She has golden hair and fair skin and blue eyes. And she lives in a city
house. Ah, yes, I know her. Just like that horrid Cold family to go and
bother some one who is nice!”
The fairy queen set to work. She called together all her assistants and
they hurried to Annette’s house when she was fast asleep.
They gave the Cold family a good talking to and they waved their wands
over Annette so that the Cold family were driven away.
And in the meantime the old dream king had told the dream fairies about
Annette and they made up the most wonderful package of dreams, lovely
dreams sent to her as she was getting all, all well again. But the dream
king himself made up this poem for her:
“Annette is so nice, Annette is so sweet,
Just Annette herself is a great big treat!”
MARCH 17: Why the Shamrock is Worn on St. Patrick’s Day
“It is said,” daddy told the children, “that the shamrock keeps away the
snakes which St. Patrick drove out of Ireland, for they cannot live and
thrive where the shamrock grows.
“But there is a legend about St. Patrick which I think I’ll have to tell
you to-night.
“What are said to be St. Patrick’s footprints can be seen on the rocks
off the shore by the Skerries harbor. The story goes that once a
chieftain named Dichu drew his sword to strike St. Patrick. When he was
about to do this cruel deed his own arm became perfectly stiff until he
said he’d be obedient to St. Patrick. Then St. Patrick taught him to be
good and kind.
“Still another interesting story is that of the idol worshipers. St.
Patrick went into the place where these people were and found them
worshiping the idols. There was a huge pillar of stone with the chief
idol on top of it. It was covered with slabs of gold and silver, and
around it in a circle were twelve other idols. St. Patrick smote the
chief idol with his crozier and the idol crumbled to dust at once.”
MARCH 18: St. Patrick
“Daddy, do tell us this evening more about St. Patrick,” asked Jack and
Evelyn.
“He was born in 372,” said daddy. “When he was only sixteen years old he
was stolen by pirates. They did not treat him at all well, and he was
sold by them into slavery in Ireland.
“His master had him look after pigs in the mountains. But Patrick had
a strange dream in which the Lord told him to run away and set out for
a far-away country. He had been seven years in Ireland, so he was used
to its language and all its customs and manners. After a time he was
ordained a deacon, then a priest, and finally he became a bishop. At this
point the pope told him to return to Ireland to preach the gospel to the
Irish people. Since then he has always been known as St. Patrick. One
story is that on a bitter cold morning St. Patrick and a number of his
followers found they could not possibly build a fire. They had had no
breakfast and were half frozen. St. Patrick listened to their complaints
for a while, and then he told them to gather up the snow in a pile. This
they did. St. Patrick breathed on it, and it became a fire.