ducks would be so sympathetic at the same time. And they wouldn’t make so
much noise. I fear something has happened over there.”
And he looked through his spy-glass in the direction of the duck farm.
“There. I see something like smoke,” he said. “Yes, I’m sure I see
something like smoke.”
“Near the duck farm?” said the other fireman, getting up, and adding:
“We’d better send out the alarm and get started.”
“It’s away from the farm that I see the smoke,” said the first fireman,
“but maybe the ducks are afraid it will reach them. It’s one of those
forest fires I think.”
So an alarm was sent out in the town and the firemen rushed to the
firehouse and got on their fire-clothes as they hurried away on the
fire-engine.
How the horses did run! Still the ducks were quacking. The horses
galloped, the men held on, and the ones who guided the fire horses drove
as they had never driven before.
“It’s a fire!” shouted the people on the farm. “A terrible forest fire!
Oh, send for the firemen and the engines! Oh, send for help, help, help.”
And they telephoned wildly to the town.
But just at that moment, when the people on the farm felt that help could
not come in time to save them and the hundred thousand ducks, along
dashed the fire-engines and the brave firemen drawn by the splendid
horses.
They rushed past the duck farm to the forest fire which was coming
steadily nearer.
“Come men, come people,” they shouted as they went by. And every one went
rushing to help the firemen.
The dreadful forest fire was stopped just before it reached the duck
farm, and the ducks cackled softly and happily, though still they were
nervous from all they had been through: “We are safe, quack, quack, we
are safe.”
“How did you ever get here before we telephoned?” asked the people on the
farm.
“Your ducks sent us the alarm,” replied one of the firemen.
AUGUST 17: Friends of Animals
“Years and years and years ago,” said daddy, “there lived an emperor
in India whose name was Asoka. He was the first man—in fact, the first
person, I believe—to start a hospital for the cure of sick animals.
“He lived so many years ago that the way we know of much that was done in
his time is by reading what the men who wrote histories have to tell us.
Most of the good deeds which he did were written upon the rocks, ’way,
’way back, years and years and years ago. And upon these rocks were also
written rules and directions for his people.
“Among many things which he did, in addition to building hospitals for
animals, was to build hospitals for human beings and to see that they
were looked after. He also had wells dug so people could drink when they
were traveling through the country.
“He ordered the planting of trees so people could rest under their shade,
and he spent all his time thinking how he could help others.
“But he was not the first person who tried to help others. He was the
first one, though, to think of a hospital for animals and throughout the
time he was emperor he saw that the hospitals for animals were kept in
good condition.
“Animals with thorns in their feet were taken to the hospital. The horrid
thorns would be taken out and soft, cooling liniment or ointment poured
on and the animal would feel all right once more.
“Animals with sore throats, animals with colds, animals with broken bones
and sprained ankles—all animals who needed attention and care were looked
after in the hospitals founded by Asoka.
“If animals had written histories as well as human beings they would have
written a great deal about Asoka and the wonderful things he did.
“But even though they could not write, for future people and future
animals, of Asoka’s goodness, and even though they couldn’t thank him
with words, they were grateful, as only animals can be grateful—very
deeply, dumbly grateful.
“But the historians—the men who wrote about those times—speak of the
goodness of Asoka and of how the people loved him.”
AUGUST 18: The Orangeade
“They talk about birds who go South for the winter and about butterflies
and other little creatures who sleep all winter,” said the Orangeade,
“but my family might just as well not exist in the winter time.”
“The same is true of me, too,” said the Lemonade as well as the Iced Tea.
“But at the same time your families do exist because there are lemons and
oranges and tea all the year around,” said a little gnome. “And sometimes
your families are about in warmer climates just as the birds are in
warmer climates in the winter. But it isn’t strange that you aren’t
wanted in the winter when it is cold, for no one wants a cool drink of
orangeade or of lemonade and no one wants a glass of iced tea when there
is a snow-storm and when the wind is blowing outside the windows.
“You can understand that, can’t you?” asked the gnome.
“Yes, I understand that now,” said the Orangeade, “and I don’t feel
unhappy any more. Ah, here come the tennis players. We must be ready for
them!”
AUGUST 19: The Climbing Perch
“I am going to tell you this evening,” said daddy, “about the Climbing
Perch family before they came to the big aquarium.
“Far, far away in Africa they lived in a river, and were a very happy
family. But one day the river seemed to be drying up so fast that they
couldn’t find enough water to live in. They had noticed it getting worse
and worse every day for some time, and they had been hoping for rain. But
this day it was so bad that they knew something would have to be done.
“‘Well, even if the river dries up, it won’t bother us,’ said
Granddaddy Climbing Perch, ‘not in the very least.’ And he gave a huge
spatter-spatter with his tail.
“All the other fishes looked very much worried and their fins trembled
with fear.
“‘Why, Granddaddy Climbing Perch,’ said the old Mother Climbing Perch,
‘do you want all the children to die?’
“‘I should say not,’ replied Granddaddy Climbing Perch angrily. ‘The very
idea of your saying such a thing. I am surprised—yes, surprised, and very
much annoyed.’ Granddaddy Climbing Perch’s fins wiggled with temper.
“‘I’m sorry,’ said old Mother Climbing Perch meekly, ‘but I didn’t just
understand what you said such a thing for, and why you don’t seem to be
worried that the river is drying up. You always used to love the children
and tell them stories.’
“‘I do still love them, and I shall tell them a true story now of an
adventure which will happen to us. Come around me, children!’ And
Granddaddy Climbing Perch flopped his tail very hard.
“All the fishes swam over by Granddaddy Climbing Perch and looked at him
out of their queer, shiny eyes.
“‘Now, children,’ he began, ‘years and years and years ago, our great,
great, greatgrandfathers were caught just like this in a river which had
dried up. They decided that the only thing for them to do was to try to
make up their minds to die, when the Fairy Queen happened along.
“‘“I will name you the Climbing Perch,” she said, “and you will be able
to go from pond to pond in the dry seasons. See if it is not so!” She
waved her wand and disappeared—and sure enough all the family climbed out
of the river—which was dry—and with their gills, which are like saws,
they scrambled to the next pond, where there was water. We will do the
same.’
“All the Climbing Perch family now knew the meaning of their family name,
and off they started, led by Granddaddy Climbing Perch. They got to the
next pond where there was water—but they hadn’t been there for more than
a week when that pond dried up, too, and they had to be off again.
“Would you believe it—but they had to change ponds five times before they
could stay and make a real home! And they are the ones I saw to-day. Of
all the fishes in the Aquarium they are the proudest because they had had
such traveled lives—and they are very happy. Then, too, after all their
hard work, they are glad to be in a big tank which looks as if it would
never go dry!”
AUGUST 20: The Onion’s Insult
“I have been insulted,” said the onion.
“Tell me what the insult was,” said the carrot.
“Some one was going to help the cook get the dinner—some one who knew
little about cooking but less about how to fix vegetables, and this
person said she would peel the onions.
“She began to peel me first as though I were a potato and then she kept
on peeling until the cook suddenly noticed what she was doing and said:
“‘Stop peeling that poor onion. It’s all good to eat, and we will just
cut it up in smaller pieces for frying.’
“Imagine,” said the onion, “to hear of any one so ignorant about onions.
That was said before you were brought out, Mr. Carrot. I was insulted!
To think of not being understood better than that. Oh, it is sad, it is
insulting, not to be understood.”
“Cheer up,” said the carrot. “It is not an insult when a creature is
ignorant. You should just feel sorry for ignorance, and feel proud and
happy that you were saved in time so you could do your part when the
great meeting takes place between you and Mr. Beefsteak to-night at the
big dinner.”
“That’s so,” said the onion, “I will cheer up. It has made me feel better
to talk to you. I don’t feel insulted any more.”
AUGUST 21: Harriet’s Monkey
“A little girl named Harriet,” said daddy, “was sitting on the front
porch of her home one day when a hurdy-gurdy came along. An old man was
wheeling the hurdy-gurdy and on top of it sat a monkey with a red jacket
and red cap. His jacket had brass buttons on it, and on either side were
two little pockets which jingled with pennies.
“Then the old man played a tune on his hurdy-gurdy and the monkey danced.
He took off his cap and Harriet took out all the pennies in her purse—she
had had seven—and gave them to the monkey.
“Into one pocket he put four pennies and into the other three. Then he
took off his cap for more. But Harriet said: ‘I have no more pennies.’
The monkey did not seem to understand at first—but when Harriet shook her
head and showed him her empty purse, he leaned his head on one side and
pretended to cry. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and he put
it to his eyes as if to wipe the tears away.
“But soon, when the old man played another tune, the monkey began to
dance around and seemed quite as happy as before.
“And the old man played yet again. But by this time the monkey was tired,
so what do you think he did?”
“What?” exclaimed the children.
“He saw that opposite where Harriet was sitting, there was a
rocking-chair—just like Harriet’s. He gave a jump and up he got into the
chair. Then twisting his tail around him, he began to rock and rock, back
and forth, and how he did seem to enjoy it!
“As they were sitting there opposite each other—Harriet and the
monkey—along came Harriet’s mother. She was surprised to see Harriet’s
guest, and the monkey got right out of the chair and made a low bow. He
began to do his tricks again, and he took the pennies Harriet’s mother
gave him. He also wept when she didn’t give him any more!
“‘How’d you like to own a fine monkey like that?’ asked the old man.
“‘Oh mother, could I?’ asked Harriet.
“‘Well, he is a cunning little fellow,’ agreed her mother, ‘but what will
daddy say?’
“‘Oh, daddy will think he is great fun,’ said Harriet quickly, for she
saw that her mother was really thinking of letting her keep the monkey.
“‘Is he a nice, quiet monkey?’ asked her mother.
“‘Show how quiet you are,’ said the old man. And the monkey laid down as
if he were sound asleep.
“‘I think we’ll keep him,’ said Harriet’s mother, and Harriet bounded up
and down with joy. The monkey copied her and jumped up and down too, for
he had taken a great liking to Harriet—and he made a polite bow to his
former master, as he handed him some money from Harriet’s mother.”
AUGUST 22: Summer Corn
“Let me tell you,” said Grandfather Corn, “the ways of summer corn.”
All the ears of corn listened, which, of course, they could do quite
perfectly, as they were all ears!
“I have grown very quickly. I am very big and full grown,” continued
Grandfather Corn. “I wanted to be like this, for in every corn-field some
one must give this word of advice to little ears of corn.”
“Advice, advice,” said the ears of corn. “We are going to hear advice.”
“That’s it, my bright little ears. I would say my bright little eyes if I
could, but of course I can’t.”
“Too bad,” said the little ears. “But never mind, we are not without
ears, even if we haven’t eyes and noses and chins.”
“Eyes, and noses and chins are very silly and quite useless,” said
Grandfather Corn.
“Certainly for us at any rate,” said the little ears.
“But for the advice,” said Grandfather Corn.
“When it gets cold don’t let any one encourage you into growing. We will
give the people our fine selves as long as the warm weather remains, but
not when it is cold. We’re famous for being summer corn, and we will
never let it be said of us that we were so coarse and hardened that we
could stand the chilly days.” And the little ears nestled in their silken
beds and said they would certainly not try to grow in the cold weather
for they knew they would hate anything that wasn’t like summer warmth.
AUGUST 23: A Bee Story
“The worker bees,” said daddy, “carry little pollen baskets and they
bring in the pollen to the young. They also bring in some sweetened water
which the little ones like very much indeed.
“Now and again on a very hot day a number of bees will stand at the front
door of their hive and will fan in some of the outside air so as to cool
the ones who must be within the hive. They always see that the hive is
kept very, very clean. Oh, how neat they are.
“They have to guard against their enemy, the wax moth, too. The wax moth
is a tiny gray moth miller who likes to get into the hive and feed upon
the combs and the pollen stored away in the honey-bees’ cells. If they
are allowed there they will build tunnels through the combs and destroy
them. The Italian bees, little gentle creatures, are fine about defending
themselves, even doing better work than the usual honey-bees.
“The bees must go to many flowers in order to get all the honey that
they need. They love clover, oh, how they love clover, which shows that
they’re not in the least bit snobbish, for clover grows wild in the
fields, of course.
“The bees love buckwheat fields, and from many, many flowers and a great
deal of gathered nectar and pollen, they get the amount of honey they
feel they need for themselves for the time being, and to store for the
future.
“They always work, they hardly ever play. Always they are thinking of
the day which may come when they won’t have such an easy time gathering
honey, and though they may seem to have all they need they think it is
well to be thrifty and to be ready for a rainy day.
“How the bees love the sweet things of life, the flowers, the honey, the
warmth, the summertime.
“But though they love the sweet things of life, they are never through
working. Right through their little lives they work. They work too hard.
They don’t stop to enjoy their hard work as creatures should.
“Even when they have all the nourishment they need they go on searching
for more for the storehouse. They do not flit about and enjoy life like
the beautiful butterflies. No, they must always work. They’ve had no help
from other creatures; they’ve never destroyed lives of other creatures in
order to get food. Though they flit among all flowers they never become
snobbish and love only the flowers which cost a lot to grow. They love
clover, free clover, best of all.”
AUGUST 24: Allie Baa’s Portrait
“A little girl named Melly,” said daddy, “was having her portrait
painted. The lady who was painting her portrait one day said to her:
“‘Now, you are such a good girl, and you keep so still while I am
painting a lovely picture of you to give to your mother, that I wonder if
there is anything you would like me to paint for you?’
“The little girl’s face was in smiles at once.
“‘Oh yes,’ she cried, ‘I’d like to have my dollie painted.’ And when
Melly brought her doll the next time the lady said to herself, ‘I think I
will change the picture of Melly and have her holding her doll, as she is
now.’
“And how differently Melly looked! No longer was she the little girl
sitting stiffly on a chair, looking now and again at the window and
longing to be out with her friends. She was not being good because she
thought she should, but because she was happy having Allie Baa with her.
“She looked like a real little girl, and the lady was delighted. For
before she had seemed unlike a child. She had looked so sad.
“‘Yes,’ said the lady to herself, ‘I will certainly have Melly holding
the doll.’
“And then she did a painting of Allie Baa, and it looked just like her.
How delighted Melly was! She showed the picture of Allie to her—but of
course Allie never even smiled. She looked at it just as she looked at
everything else.
“‘You dear, precious dollie,’ said Melly, ‘you don’t care whether you
have a painting of your dear old face or not. But it’s a great comfort to
your mother.’
“The lady was so pleased at the picture of Melly, and she was proud of
herself that she had thought of having Melly bring her doll.
“When Melly’s mother saw the painting she said: ‘Whatever made you think
of having her hold Allie Baa? Why, that is just like my dear little
girl—just the way we always see her. How glad I am.’ And the lady was
happy, for she had made the real mother and the make-believe so pleased!”
AUGUST 25: Saving the Elm
“Yes, I was very, very ill,” said the elm tree. “I didn’t know whether I
would ever get well or not. I had all sorts of things the matter with me.
My wood was cracking and I was generally in bad shape.
“They talked about me, people did, and they said it would be a great pity
to cut me down. They said I gave shade in the hot summer, they said I was
very beautiful and they said I should be saved if possible. A lot of very
clever tree doctors were sent for and they said that I could be saved.
Oh, how happy that made me!” And Grandfather Elm swayed in the breeze and
smiled.
“All the bad wood which had started in to hurt me was taken away. Then
they fixed up the places where the old wood had been so it would keep in
good condition in the future.
“I had steel straps put upon me in certain places to keep me from blowing
over and fixed in such a way that I could sway and laugh and blow
naturally with the rest of you.
“My, but when they said I was all right, how I did rejoice! I was so
happy, so happy. For I am a well elm now!”
AUGUST 26: A Magic Lantern Show
There was a queer cry from outside the lighthouse—on the window ledge—and
Teeny, the little daughter of the lighthouse keeper looked out. There,
against the shutter was a sea gull and another was by him. The window
ledge was very wide but they did not seem to be there from choice. Then
Teeny remembered what a storm there had been the night before, and she
thought that these sea gulls must have been hurt.
Teeny opened the window and took the sea gulls inside. They were very
young and they had been hurt. They had not been hurt very badly, but
they had been very much frightened.
All day Teeny looked after the sea gulls. They grew quite tame, and as if
they knew that Teeny was a little girl of the sea.
It was late in the afternoon when Teeny remembered that she had planned
to have a Magic Lantern show.
“This will be fine,” said Teeny to herself. “I have two of my audience.
Usually I have to be audience and stage manager, too. Sometimes daddy
and mother come, but they are busy at this time, and usually I am alone.
Of course, I have lots of companions in the pictures that I show, and I
leave them on the sheet which shows the pictures for a long time and talk
to them.”
Teeny took a great cushion and she put the sea gulls upon it. “To-morrow
you will be strong enough to be set free,” she told them. “I know you
hate to be prisoners when you are used to flying over the great sea.”
The sea gulls paid no attention to the magic lantern show, which
disappointed Teeny a little. But still, they did make an audience, and
that was quite a treat!
AUGUST 27: The Baby Ear
“I am so afraid I won’t be eaten,” said the baby ear of corn as it rested
on the kitchen table in a fine house where lived a mother and a father
and several children.
“Cheer up, baby ear,” said the mother ear, “if you didn’t get the chance
to grow into a big, full-sized ear of corn, at least you have been able
to live in a wonderful silken home, and that is more than many folks and
creatures can do.”
“What is it to live in clover?” asked the baby ear. “They say, out in the
corn field, that some folks think it’s fine to live in clover.”
“To live in clover,” said the mother ear, “means just the same as to
live in a silken bed. In fact it means anything that is nice. People may
live in clover and not be near a clover field, because they may live
so happily and in such comfortable, cheery, pleasant homes that it’s a
perfect kind of life. Clover does not always need to mean clover. It may
just mean happiness.
“Hark!” said the mother ear. They were being taken out of their silken
homes.
“Look, children,” said the mother of the children, “at this tiny baby
ear alongside of a big ear. That is a most unusual sight. We’ll let our
youngest one eat this ear.” And the baby ear was delighted.
AUGUST 28: How Arthur Saved a Little Girl
“One day a lake schooner was making its daily trip,” said daddy. “A boy
named Arthur had paddled in his canoe to the head of the lake and was
coming back home on the boat, for that had just made a nice length paddle.
“The boat was crowded with passengers. Many of them knew Arthur, and many
of them had been rather mean and had said that Arthur spent too much time
on the water.
“Suddenly some one gave a cry:
“‘Somebody overboard! Oh, oh!’
“And then every one became very much excited and cried and screamed.
Arthur had not seen the person go overboard, but he rushed to the end of
the boat where all the people had hurried and saw in the water just going
down a little child in a white dress.
“‘She has been under twice now,’ said some one.
“Arthur didn’t say a word, nor did he scream, but in one dive he was in
the water and had grabbed hold of the little girl. They were soon hauled
in.
“And the people who had thought Arthur spent too much time in the water
looked on, ashamed that all they had done was to scream, while Arthur had
gone in the water and had saved the child’s life.”
AUGUST 29: The Huckleberry Pickers
“To-day I passed by a house and heard some little children talking to
some other children who looked very ragged, hot and tired,” said daddy.
“These children had been picking huckleberries and were going around this
hot afternoon trying to sell them.
“They had stopped by this house where they had seen the little children
playing. The mother of the little children had gone out for the
afternoon, but they were having a party with a few of their little
friends.
“They told the little poor children that they hadn’t any money at all to
buy the berries with, but they asked them to stay and play with them and
that they were sure when their mother came home she would buy all the
berries.
“The children could not resist the temptation. They sat down and had
some lemonade and sponge cake, and, oh, it did seem so good after the
hot tramp they had made looking for the berries. After they had had all
the lemonade and sponge cake that they could possibly eat they all went
wading in a little brook back of the house. They did so enjoy the lovely,
cool water, and when the mother came home, there she found her children
entertaining the little poor children.
“Of course she bought every one of the huckleberries, which pleased the
little children so much.
“But what pleased them still more was that the mother added that if they
came that way very often she would like to buy huckleberries of them, for
her family was so fond of them, and that there would be lemonade parties
too.”
AUGUST 30: Mr. Sun’s Birthday
The children had seen old Mr. Sun on his way to bed. He had been as red
as could be and very, very enormous. They wondered what Mr. Sun was up
to, and were not surprised at all when daddy said:
“Mr. Sun had a birthday party this afternoon and the gnomes were invited.
He told his guests to come just a little while before it was time for him
to go to bed.
“‘Well,’ said Peter Gnome, ‘you don’t suppose we would come after you had
gone to bed, do you?’
“‘Oh, no,’ said Mr. Sun as he grinned, ‘but the party must begin at just
such a time and end at just such a time. I have my own special reasons,
so come as I’ve said, won’t you, gnomes?’
“‘By all means,’ said the gnomes.
“And just a little while before Mr. Sun’s going to bed time, all the
gnomes appeared on top of a high hill.