of ice for Mr. Walrus. Then have it carried over to his pond, and when
you give it to him tell him it is his reward for working so hard all
Winter, and it is to cool his water—not to chop up.’
“Well, the Keeper did as the Fairy Queen had suggested. At first the
Walrus did chop up the ice—although it was such a small piece to chop
up he did seem a little surprised when it was put in his pond. Then he
waited for it to be taken away, but instead, the Keeper came and told him
to play with it himself.
“After a few days the Walrus understood it was all for him because it was
some of the ice he had chopped in the Winter.
“So every day when the ice would come he would be so joyful. He would
take a rest on the piece of ice first—for he thought it a lovely, cool
sort of chair—and then he would dive down into the cold water. And the
Fairy Queen was so pleased that the Walrus was getting a good reward for
his Winter’s work.”
MAY 11: Kay and the Trunk
“Kathleen, or Kay, as she was always called for short, lived by the ocean
in a little fishing village,” said daddy. “She used to watch the men
fishing all day and hauling their nets in at night. And she would watch
her mother cook the fish for their meals, for they practically lived
on it. One day a big trunk was washed ashore which without a doubt had
fallen off one of the big boats passing by.
“In the trunk were lots and lots of lovely dresses—a pink dress, a yellow
satin dress, a green velvet coat, a hat with soft, big plumes on it, and,
oh, so many lovely things! Kay was breathless for a moment, she was so
excited—all those gorgeous things for a little girl who had seen little
else beside fishing-nets and such things.
“‘Is it for me?’ cried Kay.
“‘Yes; all for you,’ said her daddy. ‘Nobody else wants these things here
in our fishing village, and you can have them to play with.’
“‘Oh, how marvelous!’ said Kay. ‘I’ll never be lonely now. I can play I’m
a queen when I wear that yellow satin dress and the velvet coat, and I’ll
pretend that the fishes are my subjects, and I can play I’m a beautiful
lady going to a ball when I wear the pink dress.’
“She jumped around and around with joy, crying: ‘Oh, what a fine time
I’ll have dressing up! Oh, such fun!’”
MAY 12: The Sun Talks to Harry
“There was a little boy,” said daddy, “whose name was Harry, and he loved
sunsets and everything that had bright colors. But as he had spent all
his life in the city, he had not seen half the wild flowers and lovely
wood flowers you children can always see.
“One day he had been playing very hard as it was his birthday and his
mother had given him a party. So he was tired before it was time to go
to bed, and he was sitting by the open window looking at the sun just
beginning to think about going to bed too.
“But the Fairy Queen was whispering to the sun to tell Harry a story as a
special birthday treat, and at the same time Harry was saying ‘Oh, please
go to bed, Mr. Sun, for I want to see all your bright colors.’
“But the sun had no intention of being hurried. He wanted to go to bed
when he was tired and not before. Besides, in the warm weather he liked
to stay up longer, and it was only in the cold winter that he cared about
going to bed before the afternoon really was over.
“In a moment or two Harry was sound asleep in his chair by the window.
And the sun had listened to the Fairy Queen’s whisper, for soon Harry was
having the most wonderful talk with Mr. Sun.
“He came right in the window, and sat on the sill, just as friendly as
friendly could be. He told Harry the history of his life, and oh, how
very, very old he was. It made Harry feel quite old too, to hear the sun
talking, and he said to him, ‘Mr. Sun, don’t you feel very blue when you
think how old you are?’
“‘Sometimes to be sure I do. That is only natural. And it is then that
you see many blue clouds and pale lavender colors around me as I’m going
to bed. But you will agree that isn’t very often. For when I am sensible
I say to myself that there is nothing disgraceful about being old. And it
is then that I look bright and rosy. For it is very foolish to mind being
old when you are as strong and well as I am and have such a wonderful
long record.’”
MAY 13: Old Mr. Owl Writes a Book
“Old Mr. Owl wanted to write a book and he asked the fairies how to set
about doing it,” commenced daddy.
“‘Well,’ said the fairy queen, ‘it makes a good deal of difference, old
Mr. Owl, what you want to write about.’
“‘What nonsense!’ he said. ‘It’s just that I want to know how to start
off with my book. Just think what a marvelous book it will be—for as long
as folks can remember I’ve been called the Wise Bird—the bird who’s awake
at night and whose eyes are so very bright!’
“‘Before I started saying what a fine book it would be, if I were you,
I’d write it and give other people the chance to say so,’ said the fairy
queen.
“Mr. Owl began to write with his pen, made out of one of Mr. Turkey
Gobbler’s best feathers, on a large, flat stone, which he put in the
hollow of his tree. Very late in the night, he awakened his fairies who
had been sleeping, and told them to listen to his book. Then he called
all the owls from the neighborhood with a loud hoot-hoot. But before he
began to read, he said:
“‘I’ve not enough light. I will hurt my eyes—my beautiful, wise, big
eyes.’
“You see he had made a special arrangement to have his own lights, and
when he said that he hadn’t enough, from all over came countless little
fireflies. They sparkled and gave the most beautiful light all over the
woods, and Mr. Owl put his spectacles on his nose, and said:
“‘Now I see to perfection—which means quite all right.’ And Mr. Owl
commenced reading his book.
“It told about the parties, balls and picnics in fairyland, and of the
wild adventures and happenings in the woods. The fairies were absolutely
delighted that a book had been written with so much about them in it.
“And the fairy queen was more than happy, for the last chapter was all
about her.
“‘Well,’ said Mr. Owl, ‘you made me ashamed of myself for boasting about
my book before I had written it, and so the only thing I could do was to
write a wise chapter all about you.’
“And the fairy queen smiled with pleasure and also with amusement—for
Mr. Owl had certainly thought he could write a wise book—though the next
time, perhaps, he wouldn’t say so before he had written it.
“The fireflies had been sparkling and flashing lights all this time, and
finally they whispered:
“‘Have a dance, all of you; we’ll give you the light and dance too. It is
not well to read books all the time—you must dance.’
“So they all ended off with a fine dance, and old Mr. Owl, with his book
under his wing, danced with the rest of the owls and fairies. But before
the evening was over he presented to the fairy queen a copy of his book,
which said on the cover, ‘A BOOK, by Wise Mr. Owl.’”
MAY 14: The Little Turkeys
“When Mrs. Turkey’s little ones were born,” said daddy, “she taught them
the things that all good turkey mothers teach their young in the early
spring days, especially how they must keep their feet dry for a number of
weeks so they will grow up into fine and strong turkeys. And, as Mother
Turkey watched her children she said to herself: ‘What a Thanksgiving
turkey you will be, my dear,’ as she pointed to one. ‘And what a
Christmas turkey you will be. And do not be sad, because you will be used
for meals.
“‘It is a very great honor. A very great honor indeed! Turkeys are
especially honored in this way!’”
MAY 15: Billy’s Trip in the Coach
“A little Boy named Billy was sitting in front of a fire,” began daddy.
“It was in his own bedroom and he was in a great big armchair toasting
his feet before he got into bed.
“He began thinking of the picture over the fireplace. It was a most
wonderful picture. There was a stage coach and a driver all dressed in
red. There were eight white horses with big red plumes standing up from
their harnesses, which made them look very fine indeed. And then there
were two footmen just climbing upon the coach. They never seemed to reach
the top; they always seemed to be in just the same place trying to get
there!
“Now Billy wondered if they didn’t get tired of being over the fireplace
all the time, hanging up on a silly hook. To him the eight beautiful
horses looked as if they needed a good gallop and run, and the little fat
coachman in red looked as if he would like to be off for a trip too.
“As Billy was wondering about it, suddenly he saw the coachman wave his
arms, flourish his whip and the two footmen jump—actually jump right upon
the top of the coach.
“And then the coach began to fill with passengers. The Fairy Queen was
there with all the little Fairies trailing along too. Billy didn’t see
how the coach could possibly hold so many passengers, but to his great
surprise it began to grow larger and larger. And soon he heard a gruff
voice.
“‘Well, Billy, do you want to see where we go when we take our trips?
You mustn’t think we stay over this fireplace all the time. We have many
friends, and we go upon wonderful trips when you’re fast asleep. But this
time we will take you with us.’
“Just then a little Gnome came down from the coach and began to help
Billy up.
“Off they went, with the most dashing and daring speed. Around cliffs
they tore, and over the narrowest and most dangerous roads.
“Finally they came to the very steepest cliff you can possibly imagine.
“‘Well,’ said the fat little coachman, ‘here we all get dashed to pieces
unless the Tipping Bird comes along.’
“‘Dear me,’ said Billy, ‘I do hope he comes. I would hate to be dashed to
pieces.’
[Illustration: “MR. OWL AWAKENED THE FAIRIES AND TOLD THEM TO LISTEN TO
HIS BOOK.”—_Page 111_]
“‘Oh, that’s just to make it more exciting,’ said one of the Fairies; ‘we
won’t really be dashed to pieces. The Tipping Bird is a Bird known only
in Fairyland, and he always comes just as the Fairy Queen waves her wand.’
“And soon what should Billy see come flying along but a great big black
Bird—the biggest Bird Billy had ever seen in all his life. They left the
coach on the side of the cliff, and then the horses, coachman, footmen,
Fairies, Gnomes, Billy and all, found nice little parts of the Tipping
Bird’s wings to rest in. Soon they were flying over the side of the
cliff, and then landed in a beautiful valley of soft feathers.
“‘Oh dear,’ said Billy, ‘where are we going now?’
“‘You must sleep in your good soft bed instead of the chair,’ said
Billy’s mother, who had carried him asleep to his bed while he had been
dreaming of the trip in the coach.”
MAY 16: Mother Maple Tree
“I am going to tell you,” said the old maple tree, “a little family
history. We belong to the Sugar Maple family. Our trees are often used in
making furniture, and our sap gives wondrous maple sugar which boys and
girls and ladies and gentlemen love so much!
“And when autumn comes we all dress up in the most wonderful costumes of
red and orange and flaming gold. But we will not talk about autumn quite
yet.
“The work for us to do now is to see that each leaf grows to be as big
and beautiful as possible. For we have been known as one of the nicest of
shade trees. We keep the sun from shining down too hard on people during
the hot summer months. We make shady avenues and streets and driveways.
“Mr. Sun is a perfectly splendid old chap, but in the summer he gets so
excited that he is very warm, indeed, and the people love the shade we
can give. So you see, leaves, you must not be lazy!”
The leaves rustled and shook their heads. “No, Mother Maple, we will not
be lazy.”
“We have many cousins,” continued Mother Maple. “There is Cousin Sycamore
Maple whose family comes from far away. Cousin Sycamore is not very
strong and its flowers are late in coming out. Now Cousin Norway Maple
is quite different. A fine strong tree Cousin Norway is, and a tree that
doesn’t mind soot and dust and smoke or insects. Many of Cousin Norway’s
children are planted in city streets where there is a great deal of
smoke.
“There is Cousin Box Elder which is a relation because it has clusters of
‘keys’ or seeds, which hang on all winter.
“Cousin Striped Maple is very beautiful with its streaked white lines. In
the winter oftentimes its bark is used by boys for whistles and in the
autumn Cousin Striped Maple is yellow and very handsome.
“As for Mr. Mountain Maple—well, Cousin Mountain is so named because upon
all mountains the Mountain Maple loves to grow and Cousin Vine Maple is
so named because it hasn’t the strength to stand up by itself and its
stems are like vines.
“Cousin Silver Maple is very beautiful but is not strong enough to stand
the city. Cousin Silver likes parks which are given over to trees and
greens and plants.
“And then there are the red maple and the black maple. Cousin Black Maple
is almost exactly like us, but its branches are orange colored and its
‘keys’ spread more widely than ours do.
“Cousin Red Maple loves the swamps and is a beautiful tree, as are all
his children, but I’m glad we belong to the Sugar Maple family.”
“So are we, Mother Maple,” said the leaves, as they all promised to be
good and beautiful and strong.
MAY 17: The Sport Fish
“At the seashore the other day when it was so warm,” said daddy, “I saw
some great things which were made to look like big fish. They were made
of rubber, I was told, and pumped up like automobile tires, and then they
were covered with canvas.
“Their eyes were painted on the canvas, so were their fins and their
tails. They looked like very funny fishes but still they did not look
quite right. And people were riding on top of them in the water, and
what games they did have with the breakers. The fishes would rush in to
the shore when a great wave would come and the people would have a most
glorious ride. And children rode them, too. They’re not in the least
dangerous, for if any one falls off in the water when he is riding a fish
which lies right on top, he has no distance to fall at all, and simply
gets a nice, jolly ducking.
“But by holding on fast no one need fall off—just lie or sit on the fish
and the breakers and the fish do the rest.
“Well, such fun as every one was having at the beach. The children were
laughing and crying out, ‘Let’s ride the sport fish.’
“Big men and grown-up ladies were saying, ‘Let’s ride the breakers on the
sport fish. My, how they go! Aren’t they fun.’
“And I am quite sure that farther out in the ocean real fishes were
saying, ‘Well, isn’t it a shame! Here there are make-believe fishes that
are thought more of than we are. And we’re real, not just imitations!’
“But I also felt sure that old Grandfather Ocean Fish said, ‘Now, look
here, we have no right to get mad. We never offered our backs for folks
to ride on. And we never rushed in to the shore on the great breakers. So
we can’t grumble. For the sport fishes—not real like us, to be sure—will
help the grown-ups and children have the kind of fun they like.’”
MAY 18: Mother Sheep
“My beautiful baby, Laura Lamb,” said Mother Sheep, “we always follow the
leader. We’re gentle and we’re quiet. We’re rather timid, too. We don’t
think a great deal for ourselves.
“They say,” Mother Sheep continued, “that when people cannot sleep they
make believe they are seeing sheep, and that they are counting them going
through a gate. That is because sheep follow each other, and if one were
going through a gate the others would be going through, too.
“Oh, they get tired, you see, of counting the sheep they make believe
that they see! And so they go to sleep!
“And you see what a help we are to people when we do such things, so that
they can see us in their minds going through a gate—one after the other.
“You see, my Laura Lamb, if sheep should go different ways then people
couldn’t be helped toward sleep by us, and it is nice to think of helping
people to sleep, for we’re gentle, kind souls, and it is nice to help.
“So, Laura Lamb, you, too, always follow the leader. Don’t go through one
gate yourself and have your cousins going through another and some other
cousins through the opening in the fence and the others perhaps going
under the fence.
“We must all go together, we sheep.”
And Laura Lamb bleated and said: “Ba-aaa-baa-aaa, Mother Sheep! I will do
as you say.”
MAY 19: The Monkeys’ Victory
“The Animals in the Zoo were boasting one day,” said daddy.
“‘I am the most wonderful of you all,’ said the Black-Footed Penguin. ‘I
live in water and on the rocks. My ways are interesting. I have strange
habits, and what is more my voice is like a donkey’s. I can bray most
beautifully.’
“‘Well,’ laughed the Donkey who was passing along the road. ‘The idea
of comparing yourself to me.’ And the Donkey stopped quite still, even
though he was pulling a cart in which was a little Girl.
“‘Go on,’ said the little Girl. But the Donkey stood quite still.
“‘You can’t bray as well as I can,’ said the Donkey.
“‘I bray just the same way,’ said the Black-Footed Penguin.
“‘Well,’ laughed the Hyena, ‘most People and Animals don’t think a
Donkey’s voice is anything very fine.’ And the Hyena went on laughing and
laughing, almost until his sides burst!
“‘If you’re going to be rude,’ said the Donkey, ‘I shall leave.’
“‘At last,’ said the little Girl in the cart, ‘the Donkey has decided to
move. I thought I might have to sit here all day.’
“‘Ah,’ said the Sea Lion, ‘none of you are as fine as I am. I jump into
the air to get my food. I don’t get it in any commonplace, ordinary way.
No indeed, I jump for it. Each time I do a trick. And they stop and look
at me. For I am very interesting.’
“‘It’s much nicer,’ said the bushy-tailed Wood-Rat, ‘to be what I am. My
tail is the wonder of the world.’
“‘I never heard that before,’ said the Flying Squirrels. ‘Now with us, it
is different. We can fly! We are like Birds. That’s very superior.’
“‘But you’re not Birds,’ said a Sparrow, who was flying by the cages, and
over the yards of the Animals. ‘At the rate you are talking, I am about
as interesting as any of you. I can fly for that matter, and I can pick
up food. I fly down for it instead of flying up for it like Mr. Sea Lion.’
“‘I don’t fly up for it,’ said Mr. Sea Lion. ‘I jump for it.’
“‘Oh, all right,’ said the Sparrow. ‘I’m sure I don’t care whether you
jump or fly. You’re very fussy about words, it seems to me.’
“‘Look at me,’ said the Seal. ‘I come from a wonderful land, and I am a
thing of great beauty. My skin is beautiful. And I swim so nicely, and I
like the water so much.’
“‘You’re no better than I am,’ said the Alligator crossly.
“‘Nonsense,’ said the Seal, ‘but I won’t quarrel with you about it, for I
know I’m right.’
“‘I have the finest coat,’ said the Zebra. ‘Now, in truth, I am something
worth looking at.’
“‘You’re queer, that’s all,’ said the Rocky Mountain Sheep from his yard.
“The Australian Dog who looked like a Fox also got into the argument, but
back in the Zoo house, the Monkeys were saying:
“‘Now, to-morrow let us see who gets the most admiration and attention.
Then we will see who is the most interesting Animal in the Zoo.’
“‘All right,’ agreed the other Animals, for each was quite sure he’d win.
The word was whispered about the Zoo that the visitors should decide the
question.
“The next day the Children began to arrive—and all day long they kept
coming. Each Animal had fussed to look his best, and when the Children
would pause and stop to admire any Animal the others would look angry.
“They stopped before every Animal for a few moments, and would say to
each other:
“‘Oh, look at this queer Animal! See what he does!’ But then they
would pass on and in front of the Monkey cages they stood. The Monkeys
performed tricks, they made faces and they ate peanuts which were given
to them, and at the end of the day, alas and alack, every Animal had to
admit that the one who received the most attention from the Children was
the old Monkey and his family.”
MAY 20: The Mosquitoes
“Well, friends,” said the little mosquito, “how about a banquet to-night?
It’s the first warm evening of the season, and without a doubt the people
will sit out on their porches and enjoy the beautiful air.”
“They won’t enjoy us,” said the second mosquito.
“Well, I’m sure we wouldn’t be flattered if they did,” said the first
mosquito. “If they enjoyed us it would mean that we didn’t bite them, and
that would never do.”
“It would never do,” agreed the second mosquito.
“Well, let’s be off, for the sun has gone down and the people will have
finished their suppers before long.”
“All right,” said the first mosquito, “I’m ready, and I’ll give a call to
the children and to the cousins and to all of the family and relatives.”
“Buzz-buzz-buzz,” came back the answers, and soon all the mosquito
relatives had joined the first two mosquitoes.
“Is every one ready for a banquet?” asked the first mosquito.
“Every one, without a doubt,” said the mosquitoes.
So they all started forth and buzzed along, talking of people who felt
them most.
“We don’t want to go to those who’re not properly bitten by mosquitoes,”
said the first mosquito.
“I heard some one say, the other day,” said the second mosquito, “that
the two creatures she hated most were the flies and the mosquitoes. She
said she didn’t like yellow-jackets and hornets, but practically every
other creature she liked.
“Now, wasn’t that a nice compliment?”
“A large one,” said they all.
“What do you mean by a large compliment?” asked the second mosquito.
“You should say a big compliment. But still what do we care about words
except a few choice ones such as bite and bitten and will bite?” So the
mosquitoes hurried, and some of them went on one piazza where people were
sitting and some on another, and were happy over their mean banquet.
MAY 21: The Potato Bugs
“Well, it is time we should get started,” said Mrs. Potato Bug.
“And we must work hard,” said Mr. Potato Bug.
“We have such fun working,” said the little potato bugs.
The potato bugs had six legs apiece. They had little black feelers and
tiny eyes. They were yellow and black on the back, and blue and brown
underneath.
They spit a little yellow juice on any one who took hold of them, for
they said:
“It’s all right for us to treat the potatoes badly, but it is a different
thing for people to have the bad manners to pick us up as if we were
little creatures of no importance.”
There were also brick-red bugs with black dots on either side. These
were the little potato bugs, while the others were the daddies and
the mothers. They got on the leaves of the first potato crop and fed
off them, eating away at the leaves as hard and as fast as such tiny
creatures could do.
These little bugs were very anxious to kill the plants and they would
have done so if they had made a good headway. That is, they would have
done a great deal of harm if they hadn’t been driven away in time.
But these bugs went to other potatoes and they saw some of the potato
grubs, so they said to them:
“Potato grubs, what are you doing?”
“We’re eating holes in the potatoes,” said the grubs. “What are you
doing?”
“We were eating leaves of potato plants,” said the potato bugs. “We were
driven away from some other plants, but here we are, and the dear little
children have come, too.”
“Are you going to eat the leaves here?” asked the grubs.
“We think they look good,” said the potato bugs.
“They do,” said the grubs, “but of course we pay all our compliments to
the potatoes themselves. We don’t bother about the leaves.”
“Perhaps,” said the potato bugs, “the potatoes wouldn’t mind it if you
didn’t pay them such compliments.”
“Perhaps not,” said the grubs, “but we do, just the same. We say to the
potatoes:
“‘Dear potatoes, we love you. Let us show you how fond we are of you by
eating you.’”
“Ha, ha, ha,” laughed the potato bugs, “that is a good joke.”
“The farmers don’t like the jokes, though,” said the grubs. “They think
they and their wives and their children and their neighbors and their
friends are the ones who should pay such compliments to the potatoes.”
“Absurd,” said the potato bugs.
“Of course,” admitted the grubs, “it is not so absurd if we put ourselves
in their places, but who in the world ever imagined that a grub would put
itself in the place of a person? No one would, so why should we do it?
And we don’t.”
“That’s so,” said the potato bugs, “and neither do we. If we cared for
people we wouldn’t eat the leaves and we wouldn’t try to destroy the
plants.”
“We’re not friendly with farmers even if we do like potato hills,” said
the grubs.
“That’s so,” said the potato bugs, “and why should we be friendly with
the farmers? They don’t like us. They ask us to leave. They try to get
rid of us.