Produced by David Edwards, Jana Srna and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The University of Florida, The Internet
Archive/Children's Library)
[Illustration]
THE
APPLE DUMPLING,
AND
OTHER STORIES
FOR
YOUNG BOYS AND GIRLS.
LONDON:
ADDEY & CO., 21 OLD BOND STREET.
MDCCCLII.
LONDON:
Printed by G. BARCLAY, Castle St. Leicester Sq.
TO LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS.
Once on a time there lived a little bit of a lady, who had a great many
nephews and nieces. She was very little indeed, so all the children
loved her, and said she was the best little Auntie in the world, and
exactly the right size to play with them and tell them stories.
Sometimes she told them stories about great and good men; sometimes
funny stories about Frizzlefits and Rumplestiltskin, and sometimes she
would make them nearly die with laughing at stories about the Dutchman,
Hansansvanansvananderdansvaniedeneidendiesandesan.
At last, one day, one of her nieces said to her, "Dear Auntie, do write
some stories, and put them in a book for us to read, and keep, as long
as we live."
The little Aunt thought this was a very good plan, and _here_ are the
stories, dear little children, for all of you. If you like them, just
let me know, and you shall have some more next year from
AUNT FANNY.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
TO LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS iii
THE APPLE DUMPLING 1
THE BROTHERS 8
ANNIE BROWNE 22
THE THREE BEARS 29
ABOUT MINDING QUICKLY 38
THE TWINS 47
THE LITTLE BOY THAT WAS AFRAID OF THE WATER 56
THE MAY QUEEN 62
THE TOOTHACHE 73
THE BOYS' SCHOOL 79
THE CHRISTMAS PARTY 101
THE APPLE DUMPLING.
Many years ago, there was a little old woman who lived a long way off in
the woods. She lived all by herself, in a little cottage with only two
rooms in it, and she made her living by knitting blue woollen stockings,
and selling them.
One morning the old woman brushed up the hearth all clean, and put
everything in order; then she went to the pantry and took out a great
black pot, and filled it full of water, and hung it over the fire, and
then she sat down in her arm-chair by the fire. She took her spectacles
out of her pocket and put them on her nose, and began to knit a great
blue woollen stocking.
Very soon she said to herself, "I wonder what I shall have for dinner?
I think I will make an apple dumpling." So she put her knitting down,
and took her spectacles off her nose, and put them in her pocket, and,
getting out of her arm-chair, she went to the cupboard and got three
nice rosy-cheeked apples. Then she went to the knife-box and got a
knife; and then she took a yellow dish from the dresser, and sat down in
her arm-chair, and began to pare the apples.
After she had pared the apples, she cut each one into four quarters.
Then she got up again, and set the dish of apples on the table, and went
to the cupboard, and got some flour and a lump of butter. Then she took
a pitcher, and went out-of-doors to a little spring of water close by,
and filled the pitcher with clear, cold water. So she mixed up the flour
and butter, and made them into a nice paste with the water; and then she
went behind the door, and took down a rolling-pin that was hung up by a
string, and rolled out the paste, and put the apples inside, and covered
the apples all up with the paste. "That looks nice," said the old woman.
So she tied up the dumpling in a nice clean cloth, and put it into the
great black pot that was over the fire.
After she had brushed up the hearth again, and put all the things she
had used away, she sat down in her arm-chair by the fire, and took her
spectacles out of her pocket and put them on her nose, and began to knit
the big blue woollen stocking.
She knit eight times round the stocking, and then she said to herself,
"I wonder if the dumpling is done?" So she laid down her knitting, and
took a steel fork from the mantelpiece, and lifted the lid of the pot
and looked in.
As she was looking in, her spectacles tumbled off her nose, and fell
into the pot.
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!--that's bad! that's bad!" said the old woman.
She got the bright tongs, and fished up her spectacles, and wiped them
with the corner of her apron, and put them on her nose again, and then
she stuck the fork into the apple dumpling.
The apples were hard. "No, no, no," she said; "it is not done yet."
So she put on the lid of the pot, and laid the fork on the mantelpiece,
and sat down in her arm-chair, and began to knit again on the big blue
woollen stocking.
She knit six times round the stocking, and then she said to herself, "I
wonder if the dumpling is done?"
So she put her knitting down, and took the fork from the mantelpiece,
and lifted the lid of the pot and looked in.
As she was looking in, her spectacles tumbled off her nose, and fell
into the pot.
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!--that's bad! that's bad!" said the old woman.
She got the bright tongs and fished up her spectacles, and wiped them
with the corner of her apron, and put them on her nose again, and took
the fork and stuck it into the dumpling. The apples were just beginning
to get soft.
"No, no, no; it is not quite done yet," said the old woman.
So she put on the lid of the pot, and laid the fork on the mantelpiece,
and sat down in her arm-chair, and began to knit again on the big blue
woollen stocking.
She knit twice round the stocking, and then she said to herself, "I
wonder if the dumpling is done?"
So she laid down her knitting, and took the fork from the mantelpiece,
and lifted the lid of the pot, and looked in.
As she was looking in, her spectacles tumbled off her nose, and fell
into the pot.
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!--that's bad! that's bad!" said the old woman.
She got the bright tongs and fished up her spectacles, and wiped them
with the corner of her apron, and put them on her nose again, and took
the fork and stuck it into the dumpling.
The apples were quite soft. "Yes, yes, yes; the dumpling is done," said
the old woman.
So she took the dumpling out of the pot, and untied the cloth, and
turned it into a yellow dish, and set it upon the table.
Then she went to the cupboard and got a plate, and then to the knife-box
and got a knife; then she took the fork from the mantelpiece, and drew
her arm-chair close up to the table, and sat down in it, and cut off a
piece of the dumpling, and put it on her plate.
It was very hot, and it smoked a great deal; so the old woman began to
blow it. She blew very hard. As she was blowing, her spectacles tumbled
off her nose, and fell into the dumpling.
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!--that's bad! that's bad!" said the old woman.
She took her spectacles out of her plate, and wiped them with the
corner of her apron, and said to herself, "I must get a new nose. My
nose is so little, that my spectacles will not stick on my nose."
So she put her spectacles into her pocket, and began to eat the
dumpling.
It was quite cool now. So the old woman ate it all up, and said it was
very good indeed.
THE BROTHERS.
One day Henry came bounding home from school, his face beaming with joy.
He was head of his class, and he held fast in his hand a fine silver
medal, which had been awarded to him for good behaviour.
"Oh!" said he to himself, as he ran along, "how happy this will make my
dear Mother. I know she will kiss me; perhaps she will kiss me five or
six times, and call me her dear, dear boy. Oh! how I love my Mother!"
He ran up the steps of the house where he lived as he said this, and
pulled the bell very hard, for he was in a great hurry. His Father
opened the door. "Hush! Henry," said he, "come in very softly, your
Mother is very ill."
"My Mother! Dear Father, what is the matter with her? May I go in to her
if I will step very softly?"
"No," said his Father, "you must not see her now; you must be very still
indeed. I see, my dear boy, that you have been rewarded for good conduct
in school; I am glad that I have so good a son. And now, Henry, I know
you love your Mother so much, that you will promise me to be very still,
and wait patiently until she is able to see you." As he said this, he
drew Henry close to him, and smoothed down his long curling hair, and
kissed his cheek.
Henry threw his arms around his Father's neck, and promised him; and
then, putting away his medal, he went softly, on tiptoe, up to his
play-room, and shutting the door, began to work at a ship that he was
rigging. He did not get on very fast, for he could not help thinking of
his dear Mother, and wishing he could see her. She had hemmed all the
sails of the ship for him, and he was going to name it the "Eliza,"
after her.
The next morning Susan, the old nurse, knocked very early at the door of
the room where Henry slept. "Master Henry," said she, "what do you think
happened last night?"
"What did?" said Henry, sitting up in the bed; "is my Mother better?"
"Yes, she is better," replied Susan, "but do guess what has come.
Something that you have wished for very often. Something you can play
with, and take care of, and love more than you love your dog Hector."
"Is it alive?" said Henry.
"Yes," replied Susan, "it is alive, and in your Mother's room."
"Can it be a brother--a real live brother?" cried Henry, jumping out of
bed, and running up to Susan.
"Yes, it is a brother--a real live brother!" said Susan, laughing.
"I've got a brother! I've got a brother--a real brother!" shouted Henry,
running up and down the room, clapping his hands, jumping over the
chairs, and making a terrible noise, for in his joy he hardly knew what
he was about.
"Oh, hush, Master Henry!" said Susan. "What a crazy little fellow! your
Mother is still very ill. Now dress yourself quickly and quietly, and
you shall see your little brother."
Henry trembled with joy, and in his haste he put his feet into the arms
of his jacket, and his arms into the legs of his trousers; but after a
while he managed to get them on right, and though he washed his face and
hands in a minute, and brushed his hair with the back of the brush, yet
he did not look so bad as you might suppose.
He went very softly into his Mother's room. It was darkened, and he
could not see very well. He went up to the side of the bed. His Mother
smiled, and said, "Come here, my son." Her face was pale, but it had a
very happy look, for in her arms, sweetly sleeping, was the little
brother that Henry had longed for. He had a sister, who was nearly his
own age, but he had always wished for a brother, and the brother had
come at last.
"Dear Mother, may I help you take care of my little brother?" said
Henry; "you know I am strong enough to hold him. I would not let him
fall for the world."
"Yes, dear boy," replied his Mother; "when he is a little older, I
shall have a great deal of comfort in trusting this dear little brother
with you. It is more necessary now than ever, my son, that you should
try always to be good, and to set a good example before your brother. He
will be sure to do just as you do. If you are a good boy, you will be a
good man; and how happy you will be, when you are grown up, to think
that your good example will have made your brother a good boy, and a
good man too. Now kiss me, and go and get your breakfast."
Henry kissed his Mother, and told her of his good conduct in school, at
which she was very glad, and then stooping down, he kissed the soft
cheek of the little sleeping baby, and went gently out of the room.
In a few weeks his Mother got quite well, and Charles (that was the
baby's name) began to laugh and play with his brother. Henry was never
so happy as when he was with little Charley. He always put him to sleep
at night. The dear little fellow would clasp his little hand tight round
one of Henry's fingers, and fall to sleep in his bed, while his brother
sang to him.
One day when Charles was about four years old, he said, "Dear brother,
will you ride me on your back?" Henry was very busy just then; he was
making a bow and arrow. He looked down, and saw a sweet little face, and
two bright blue eyes, looking at him, and saying as plainly as eyes
could say, "Do, dear brother." So he said, "Yes, Charley, I will, if you
will help me to put away my things." Charles ran about, and helped Henry
put his play-room in nice order, and then climbing on his back, and
holding fast to a ribbon for a bridle, which Henry held between his
teeth, he gave him a little tap on the shoulder, and crying, "Get up,
old fellow," away they went around the room, Henry galloping so hard,
that Charles bounced about almost as much as if he was on a real pony.
"Let us go in the parlours, they are a great deal larger," said Charles;
"do, dear brother."
"I am afraid it would not be right," replied Henry; "we may break
something. Mother has said that we had better never play there."
"But we will be so careful," said the little boy; "we can play circus so
nice. I _want_ to go in the parlour."
Henry's Father and Mother had gone out riding, so he could not ask
leave to play in the parlours. He was almost sure it was wrong to go
there, but he wanted to gratify his brother; so, promising himself to be
very careful, he trotted down stairs into the parlour, with Charles on
his back. At first he went slowly round the two rooms, but Charles began
to whip his horse and cry, "Get up, old boy, you are getting lazy. You
shall be a race-horse. Now go faster, faster; go round the room like
lightning."
So round he went, fast and faster, shaking his head, and taking great
jumps, and kicking his legs up behind, with Charley holding on, laughing
and screaming with delight, till, alas! sad to tell, his elbow brushed
against a beautiful and costly vase, which stood upon a little table,
knocked it off, and broke it into a hundred pieces.
Henry stopped short, and let Charles slide down from his back. He
looked at the broken vase, and then at his brother, and Charles looked
at Henry, and then at the pieces on the floor.
"It is all broken," said he. "It can't be mended at all; can it,
brother?"
"No, it is past mending," said Henry; "and the first thing we must do
will be to tell Mother."
"Oh, no!" said the little boy; "I am afraid to tell her."
"We must never be afraid to tell the truth, dear Charley. I will set you
a good example. You shall never learn to tell a lie from me." Henry had
always remembered what his Mother had said to him, the very first time
he ever saw his little brother; and very often, when he was tempted to
be naughty, or get in a passion, the words, "Your brother will do just
as you do," would seem to come from his heart, and he would conquer his
passion.
In a few moments the boys heard the wheels of the carriage. Henry went
to the hall door, and opened it. He held Charles by the hand. He had to
hold him very tight, for Charles tried to get away. His face was pale.
He waited until his Mother got out of the carriage and came up the
steps, and, taking hold of her hand and looking up in her face, he said,
in a firm voice, "Mother, I have broken your vase."
"And I, too," said the little boy; "and it is broken all to pieces."
Henry was glad to hear his little brother say this; and oh! how happy it
made him feel, to think that the child had learned to speak the truth
from him.
Their Mother kissed them both and said, "My darling boys, I am rejoiced
that you are not afraid to speak the truth. I would rather lose twenty
vases than have you tell a lie. But you knew it was wrong to play in the
parlours; did you not?"
"Yes, dear Mother, it was wrong, and I knew it was," replied Henry. "I
will submit to any punishment you think right. I ought to have
remembered that you advised us not to go there."
"If you think you ought to be punished," said his Mother, "Charley shall
go to bed to-night without your singing to him. This will make you both
remember. Is that right?"
"Yes, dear Mother," said Henry; but he looked very sorry; and little
Charles made up a long face, for he loved his brother so much, that he
could not bear to think that he must go to sleep without holding his
finger and hearing him sing.
When bed-time came, Charley wanted to beg his Mother to think of some
other punishment for him. He wanted his dear brother so much. He looked
at Henry, but Henry said, "Good-night, little fellow; we deserve this.
Come! one night will soon be over. Now, let us see how well you can
behave;" and he gave him a smile, and a kiss so full of love, that the
little fellow put his lips tight together, and marched off to bed
without a tear. It was hard to do it, but he had this kind brother to
set him a good example, and he was determined to be as good a boy as
Henry.
Not many weeks after this, poor little Charles was taken sick. He was
very sick indeed, and every day he grew worse. The doctor did all he
could for him, and Henry stayed with him night and day, and would hardly
take any rest. He gave him all his medicine, and sang to him very often
when he was in pain. But Charles did not get any better, and at last the
doctor said that he could not make him well--the little boy must die.
When Henry heard this, the tears burst from his eyes, and he sobbed out,
"Oh, my brother! oh, my brother! I cannot part with you, my little
precious brother."
The poor little fellow had become so weak and thin that he could
scarcely lift his hands from the bed where he lay.
The last night came. He knew that he would not live many hours, for his
dear Mother had said so; and now she told him, that as he had always
tried to be a good boy, he would go to Heaven, and Jesus would take him
into His bosom, and love him, and keep him, until they came to him.
His little pale face grew bright. "Dear Mother," said he, "will Jesus
let my brother come to me? I want my brother in Heaven. Come here close
to me," said he to Henry. His brother leaned his face down close to the
little boy's face, and helped him clasp his arms around his neck, and
then he whispered, in a soft, weak voice, "Do not cry, dear brother--do
not cry any more. I will pray to Jesus to let you come very soon and
sing me to sleep in Heaven."
These were the last words he spoke, for his breath grew shorter and
shorter, and soon after his little hand dropped away from his brother's,
and he was dead.
And his Father had him buried in Highgate Cemetery.
It was in the summer time that he died, and his brother Henry planted a
white rose-bush at the foot of the little grave, and a red rose-bush at
the head, and often in the pleasant summer afternoons he would go alone
to Highgate, and sit upon little Charley's grave, and think how he might
at that moment be praying for him in Heaven.
Henry is now a man. He was always a good boy. He is now a good man; and
although many years have passed since he lost his little brother, he
goes every summer to Highgate to visit his grave; and the tears always
come into his eyes when he speaks of him, and tells that little
Charley's last words were, that he would pray to Jesus to let his
darling brother come soon, and sing him to sleep in Heaven.
ANNIE BROWNE.
Little Annie Browne was an only child, that is, she had no little
brothers or sisters; so you may be sure her parents loved this little
girl very much indeed, and were always endeavouring to make her happy.
Now I wonder if the dear little boy or girl, who is reading this, can
guess the means that Annie's Father and Mother took to make her happy.
Did they give her plenty of candy? No. Did they buy new play-things for
her every day? No. Did they take her very often to the Museum or the
Zoological Gardens? No; this was not the way. I will tell you what they
did; and I will tell you what Annie did for one whole day when she was
about five years old, and that will give you a very good idea of the way
they took to make her _good_, for then she was _sure_ to be _happy_.
Well, one day Annie woke up very early in the morning, and, sitting up
in her little bed, which was close by the side of her Mamma's, she first
rubbed her eyes, and then she looked all round the room, and saw a
narrow streak of bright light on the wall. It was made by the sun
shining through a crack in the shutter. She began to sing softly this
little song, that she had learned in school,--
"What is it shines so very bright,
That quick dispels the dusky night?--
It is the sun--the sun;
Shedding around its cheerful light,
It is the sun--the sun."
Presently she looked round again, and saw her Mamma sleeping. She said,
in her soft little voice, "Mamma, Mamma! good morning, dear Mamma!"
But her Mamma did not wake up. Then she crept over her to where her Papa
was sleeping, and said,--
"Papa, Papa! good morning, dear Papa!"
But her Papa was too fast asleep to hear her. So she gave her Papa a
little kiss on the end of his nose, and laid gently down between them.
In a few minutes, her Papa woke up, and said,--
"Why! what little monkey is this in the bed?" which made Annie laugh
very much. She then jumped out of bed, and put on her stockings and
shoes herself, as all little boys and girls of five years old ought, and
washed her face and hands, and put on her clothes; and her Mamma, who
was now awake, fastened them, and brushed her hair nicely. After that,
she said some little prayers that her Mamma had taught her, and then ran
down stairs, singing as gaily as a lark, and dancing as lightly as a
fairy.
After breakfast, her Mamma got her school basket (it was a cunning
little basket), and put in it a nice slice of bread and butter, and a
peach, and gave her a little bouquet of flowers to present to her
teacher, whom little Annie loved dearly; and then her Mamma said, "Good
bye, my darling!" and Annie made her such a funny little curtsey, that
she nearly tumbled over, and off she went to school with her Papa, who
always saw her safe to the door.
Annie staid in school from nine o'clock until two. When she came home,
her Mother kissed her, and said--
"Have you been a good little girl in school to-day?"
"I think I have," said Annie; "Miss Harriet said that I was very
diligent. What is diligent, Mamma?"
"To be diligent, my dear," answered her Mamma, "means to study your
lesson all the time, without thinking of play, or anything else, until
you know it perfectly."
Annie said she was glad it meant such good things, and added, "Mamma,
will you play I am a lady coming to see you, if you are not too busy?"
Her Mamma said she would. So Annie got her two dolls. One was a very
pretty wax doll, with eyes that could open and shut. Her name was Emily;
and the other was not wax, but was larger. Her name was Augusta. Annie
put on their hats and shawls, and dressed herself in an old hat, with a
green veil, and came near her Mamma, and made believe ring a bell, and
said, "Ting a ling, ting a ling."
"Come in," said her Mamma.
Little Annie shook hands with her Mamma, and said, "How do you do, Mrs.
Browne?"
"Thank you, I am very well," said her Mamma. "Take a seat, my dear Mrs.
Frisby," that was Annie's name. "How are your children, Mrs. Frisby?"
"Oh! they are very sick," answered Annie; "one has the toothache, and
the other has a little square hole in the back of her head, and it has
made her head ache."
"Dear me! Mrs. Frisby," said her Mamma, "I am very sorry to hear it; you
ought to go to the doctor with them."
Then Annie pretended to go to the doctor, and she took out of the drawer
a little bit of sugar for medicine. She ate the medicine up herself, and
said that it had done the dollies a great deal of good. In this pleasant
way she amused herself until dinner time.
After dinner, her Papa and Mamma took her to the Park, as it was a
pleasant day; and there Annie jumped about with other little girls, or
ran with her great hoop. She could roll the hoop very well.
Then she came skipping home, and had her tea; and after that her
mother undressed her and heard her say her prayers, and kissed her for
good night; and she jumped into bed, and in a moment was fast asleep.
Don't you think Annie was a happy little girl? _I_ think she was, for
all her days passed in this pleasant manner. Some other time, perhaps, I
will tell you more about little Annie Browne.
THE THREE BEARS.[1]
[1] From "The Doctor," by Robert Southey.
Once upon a time there were Three Bears, who lived together in a house
of their own, in a wood. One of them was a Little, Small, Wee Bear; and
one was a Middle-sized Bear, and the other was a Great, Huge Bear. They
had each a pot for their porridge, a little pot for the Little, Small,
Wee Bear; and a middle-sized pot for the Middle Bear, and a great pot
for the Great, Huge Bear. And they had each a chair to sit in; a little
chair for the Little, Small, Wee Bear; and a middle-sized chair for the
Middle Bear; and a great chair for the Great, Huge Bear. And they had
each a bed to sleep in; a little bed for the Little, Small, Wee Bear;
and a middle-sized bed for the Middle Bear; and a great bed for the
Great, Huge Bear.
One day, after they had made the porridge for their breakfast, and
poured it into their porridge-pots, they walked out into the wood while
the porridge was cooling, that they might not burn their mouths, by
beginning too soon to eat it. And while they were walking, a little old
Woman came to the house. She could not have been a good, honest old
Woman; for first she looked in at the window, and then she peeped in at
the keyhole; and seeing nobody in the house, she lifted the latch. The
door was not fastened, because the Bears were good Bears, who did nobody
any harm, and never suspected that any body would harm them. So the
little old Woman opened the door and went in; and well pleased she was
when she saw the porridge on the table. If she had been a good little
old Woman, she would have waited till the Bears came home, and then,
perhaps, they would have asked her to breakfast; for they were good
Bears,--a little rough or so, as the manner of Bears is, but for all
that very good-natured and hospitable. But she was an impudent, bad old
Woman, and set about helping herself.
So first she tasted the porridge of the Great, Huge Bear, and that was
too hot for her; and she said a bad word about that. And then she tasted
the porridge of the Middle Bear, and that was too cold for her; and she
said a bad word about that too. And then she went to the porridge of the
Little, Small, Wee Bear, and tasted that; and that was neither too hot
nor too cold, but just right; and she liked it so well, that she ate it
all up: but the naughty old Woman said a bad word about the little
porridge-pot, because it did not hold enough for her.
Then the little old Woman sate down in the chair of the Great, Huge
Bear, and that was too hard for her. And then she sate down in the chair
of the Middle Bear, and that was too soft for her. And then she sate
down in the chair of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, and that was neither
too hard, nor too soft, but just right. So she seated herself in it, and
there she sate till the bottom of the chair came out, and down came
hers, plump upon the ground. And the naughty old Woman said a wicked
word about that too.
Then the little old Woman went up stairs into the bed-chamber in which
the three Bears slept. And first she lay down upon the bed of the Great,
Huge Bear; but that was too high at the head for her. And next she lay
down upon the bed of the Middle Bear; and that was too high at the foot
for her. And then she lay down upon the bed of the Little, Small, Wee
Bear; and that was neither too high at the head, nor at the foot, but
just right. So she covered herself up comfortably, and lay there till
she fell fast asleep.
By this time the Three Bears thought their porridge would be cool
enough; so they came home to breakfast. Now the little old Woman had
left the spoon of the Great, Huge Bear, standing in his porridge.
"=SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE!="
said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice. And when
the Middle Bear looked at his, he saw that the spoon was standing in it
too. They were wooden spoons; if they had been silver ones, the naughty
old Woman would have put them in her pocket.
"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE!"
said the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.
Then the Little, Small, Wee Bear looked at his, and there was the spoon
in the porridge-pot, but the porridge was all gone.
"_Somebody has been at my porridge, and has eaten it all up!_"
said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.
Upon this the Three Bears, seeing that some one had entered their house,
and eaten up the Little, Small, Wee Bear's breakfast, began to look
about them. Now the little old Woman had not put the hard cushion
straight when she rose from the chair of the Great, Huge Bear.
"=SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!="
said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice.
And the little old Woman had squatted down the soft cushion of the
Middle Bear.
"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!"
said the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.
And you know what the little old Woman had done to the third chair.
"_Somebody has been sitting in my chair,
and has sate the bottom of it out!_"
said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.
[Illustration]
Then the Three Bears thought it necessary that they should make further
search; so they went up stairs into their bed-chamber. Now the little
old Woman had pulled the pillow of the Great, Huge Bear, out of its
place.
"=SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED!="
said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice.
And the little old Woman had pulled the bolster of the Middle Bear out
of its place.
"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED!"
said the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.
And when the Little, Small, Wee Bear came to look at his bed, there was
the bolster in its place; and the pillow in its place upon the bolster;
and upon the pillow was the little old Woman's ugly, dirty head,--which
was not in its place, for she had no business there.
"_Somebody has been lying in my bed,--and here she is!_"
said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.
The little old Woman had heard in her sleep the great, rough, gruff
voice of the Great, Huge Bear; but she was so fast asleep that it was no
more to her than the roaring of wind, or the rumbling of thunder. And
she had heard the middle voice of the Middle Bear, but it was only as if
she had heard some one speaking in a dream. But when she heard the
little, small, wee voice of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, it was so
sharp, and so shrill, that it awakened her at once. Up she started; and
when she saw the Three Bears on one side of the bed, she tumbled herself
out at the other, and ran to the window. Now the window was open,
because the Bears, like good, tidy Bears, as they were, always opened
their bed-chamber window when they got up in the morning. Out the little
old Woman jumped; and whether she broke her neck in the fall; or ran
into the wood and was lost there; or found her way out of the wood, and
was taken up by the constable and sent to the House of Correction for a
vagrant as she was, I cannot tell. But the Three Bears never saw
anything more of her.
ABOUT MINDING QUICKLY.
Emma was one day sitting by the fire, on a little stool. She was trying
to cut a mouse out of a piece of paper. She had a pair of scissors, with
round ends. Her mother had given her these scissors for her own, because
they were safer for her to use than scissors with pointed ends.
Presently, her Mother said, "Come here to me, Emma."
"Wait a minute, Mother," said Emma.
"Do you know," said her Mother, "that it was naughty for you to say
that?"
"Why, you can wait a _little_ minute," said Emma; "I am very busy.
Don't you see that I am making a mouse?"
"Emma," replied her Mother, "do you know that I ought to punish you,
because you do not mind?"
"I am coming directly," cried Emma, dropping her scissors and her paper
mouse, and running up to her Mother.
Her Mother took her up on her lap, and said, "My little girl, this will
_never_ do. You must learn to come at once when you are called; you
_must_ obey quickly. If you continue in this very naughty habit of not
minding until you are told to do a thing two or three times, you will
grow up a very disagreeable girl, and nobody will love you."
Emma looked up mournfully into her Mother's face, and said, "Mother, I
will try to do better."
She was a good-tempered child, and was seldom cross or sullen; but she
had this one bad habit, and it was a very bad habit indeed--she waited
to be told twice, and sometimes oftener, and many times she made her
kind Mother very unhappy.
For a few days after this Emma remembered what her Mother had said to
her, and always came the first time she was called. She came pleasantly,
for it is very important to mind pleasantly, and did everything she was
told to do immediately; and her Mother loved her dearly, and hoped she
was quite cured of her naughty ways.
But I am very sorry to have to say that a time came when Emma entirely
forgot her promise. You shall hear how it happened.
One morning Emma's Mother said to her, "Emma, it is time for you to get
up, and put on your stockings and shoes."
Emma did not move. She lay with her eyes wide open, watching a fly on
the wall, that was scrubbing his thin wings with his hind legs.
"Did you hear me, Emma? Put on your stockings and shoes!"
Emma got up very slowly. She put one foot out of bed, and then looked
again at the fly. This time he was scrubbing his face with his fore
legs. So she sat there, and said to herself, "I wonder how that funny
little fly can stay upon the wall. I can't walk up the wall as the fly
can. What a little round black head he has got!"
"Emma!" said her Mother, and this time she spoke in a very severe tone.
Emma started, and put her other foot out of bed, and took up one of her
stockings.
Her Mother got out of her bed, which was close to Emma's crib, and began
to dress herself. When she was dressed, she looked round, and saw Emma,
with one stocking half on, and the other rolled up in a little ball,
which she was throwing up in the air.
Her Mother was angry with her. She went up to her, and took her
stocking away from her, and told her to get into bed again; for if she
would not dress herself when her Mother bid her, she should be punished
by being made to lie in bed. She shut up the window shutters, and took
all the books out of the room, and telling Emma not to get up until she
gave her leave, she went down stairs to breakfast.
Now children don't like to be in bed in the daytime,--at least I have
never heard of any one that did; and Emma was soon tired of lying in a
dark room wide awake, with nothing to do, and no pleasant thoughts, for
she could think of nothing but her naughty behaviour. So this was a very
severe punishment, and she began to cry, and wish she had minded
quickly, and then she would have been down stairs, where the sun was
shining brightly into the windows. She would have been sitting in her
chair, with her dear little kitten in her lap, and a nice bowl of bread
and milk for her breakfast. She always saved a little milk in the bottom
of the bowl for Daisy her kitten, and after she had done, she would give
the rest to Daisy. So you see that Emma lost much pleasure by not
minding quickly; and, what was worse than all, she had displeased her
Mother, and made her unhappy.
Oh, how weary she got! how she longed to get up! She did not dare to
disobey her Mother, and she lay in her crib a long, long time, and
thought she never could be so naughty again.
At last her Mother came into the room. She opened the shutters, and
said, "Emma, you may get up and put on your stockings and shoes."
Emma jumped up quickly, and had them on in two minutes, and then she
took off her night-gown and put on her day-clothes, which hung over the
back of the chair by her crib, and went to her Mother to have them
fastened, for she could not fasten them herself. Her Mother fastened her
clothes, and then, taking her little girl's hand, she said, "My dear
little Emma, you have made me feel very unhappy this morning. I do not
like to punish you, but it is my duty to try to cure you of all your
naughty ways, and it is your duty to try to overcome them. If you do
not, some day you may meet with some terrible misfortune, like that
which happened to a boy I used to know when I was young. I will tell you
the story. This boy, like you, grieved his parents often, by not minding
quickly; and he suffered for it in a way that he will never forget as
long as he lives. He was one day standing on the steps of the house
where he lived, and I was standing at the window of the house opposite,
where I lived. I was watching some men that were on the top of this
boy's house, fixing the slates on the roof. The roof was covered with
loose pieces of slate, and nails, and rubbish.
"Presently one of the men on the roof cried out, 'Go in, little boy; go
in.' But the boy was looking at a kite that some other boys had in the
street, and he did not choose to go in. The man thought that he had
minded what he told him, and without looking again he tumbled down a
great heap of slates and rubbish. The house was quite high, and a large
and sharp piece of slate came down very swiftly, and struck the boy on
the side of his head, and cut off nearly the whole of his ear. In a
moment the blood poured down his neck and over his clothes, and I
thought he would bleed to death. Oh, Emma! what a dreadful punishment
for not minding quickly!
"For a long time he went about with his head bound up, and when he got
well again the side of his face looked very bad indeed, for where his
ear had been there was a dreadful scar that never went away. Now he is a
man, and he often tells children how he got this dreadful scar, and all
because he did not mind quickly."
The tears had rolled down Emma's face while her Mother was telling her
this story. When she had finished it, Emma put her arms around her
Mother's neck, and told her that indeed she would try to obey at once,
and be a good little girl, so that her dear Mother would never be
unhappy about her again.
Her Mother kissed her, and took her down stairs, and gave her some
breakfast, and all this day, and ever after, she did try very hard to be
good. Whenever she felt herself going about anything slowly, the thought
of the poor boy who had lost his ear would come into her mind, and she
would jump up at once, when her Mother called her, and do whatever she
wanted her to do, pleasantly and quickly.
THE TWINS.
"Well, Susan," said her Father one day, as she came home from school, "I
am glad to see you; I wish to inform you that two young gentlemen
arrived here to-day."
"What are their names, Father?" asked Susan.
"I do not know," answered her Father; "I do not believe they have got
any names. They are very small--so small that at this moment they are
both asleep in the great chair."
"Both asleep in the great chair?" cried Susan, astonished at what her
Father had said, "I do believe you have been buying two little monkeys."
"No, I have not," said her Father, laughing. "Now come with me, and I
will show you these strangers, and then see if you will say they are
monkeys."
Susan went with her Father. He took her hand, and led her into her
Mother's room. The room was dark, and her Mother was lying in the bed.
Susan was afraid that she was sick. She went to her and said,--
"Dear Mother, are you sick? You look very pale."
Her Mother kissed her, and said, "I am very weak, my dear child; but do
you not want to see your little brothers?"
"Brothers?--where?" cried Susan. "Have I a brother?"
"Two of them," said her Father. "Come here, Susan, here they both are,
fast asleep."
Susan went up to the great easy chair, and on the cushion she saw, all
tucked up warm, two little round fat faces lying close together. Their
noses nearly touched each other, and they looked funny enough.
"Well, Susan," said her Father, "do you like the monkeys?"
"Oh, Father!" answered the little girl, clasping her hands, "I am so
glad--I am so happy! They are exactly alike,--how I shall love them, the
dear little toads!"
"Toads!" said her Father, laughing; "they don't look a bit like toads."
"Well, I said that because I loved them so," replied Susan, "just as you
sometimes call me your little mouse."
For two weeks the little twins slept together in the great chair, and
there was no end to Susan's wonder and delight. Her Mother had to tie a
bit of red silk around the wrist of one of them, to tell them apart.
They grew very fast, and were the dearest little fellows in the world,
they had such bright, merry, black eyes, and were always ready to have a
frolic with Susan. As they grew up, they were so good and so pretty,
that everybody loved them, and a great many people came to see them. I
forgot to tell you that one was named George, and the other James.
One day, when the twins were three years old, they were left alone in
the breakfast-room. The things on the breakfast-table had been cleared
away, except a bowl nearly full of sugar, which was standing on the
table.
Presently the little fellows spied the bowl of sugar. "George," said
James, "if you will help me with this chair, I will give you some
sugar."
So both the boys took hold of the heavy chair, and dragged it to the
table. Then James helped George to climb upon it, and from that he
scrambled up on the table. He walked across, to where the sugar was, and
sat down on the table, and took the sugar-bowl in his lap.
"Now, you get the stool," said George.
So James got the stool, and put it close to the side of the table where
George was, and stood upon it.
You should have seen how their merry black eyes sparkled, at the fine
feast they were going to have. They did not think that they were doing
wrong, for their Mother had often given them a little sugar.
So George took the spoon that was in the sugar, and helped James to a
spoonful, and then took one himself. He was very particular to give
James exactly as many spoonfuls as he took himself.
They were having such a delightful time, that for some moments they did
not speak a single word. George began first,--
"This is nice," said George.
"I like sugar," said James.
"It is so sweet," said George.
"And so good," said James.
"We will eat it all up," said George.
"We won't leave a bit," said James.
"It is almost all gone," said George.
"There is hardly any left," said James.
All the time they were talking George had been stuffing his brother and
himself with the sugar.
Just then their Mother opened the door. She had opened it softly, and
the little boys had not heard her. When she saw them so busy--with their
round faces stuck all over with crumbs of sugar, and George sitting on
the table, dealing it out so fairly--she could not keep from laughing.
The twins heard her laugh, so they laughed too; and George cried out,
"Mother, this sugar is nice--I like it."
"And so do I," said James.
Their Mother lifted George from the table, and told them they must not
do so again, for so much sugar would make them sick. She washed their
faces, and sent them to play in the garden. There was a fine large
garden at the back of the house, where they could play without danger.
Three years after this, the twins were sent to school, where they soon
became great favourites, because they were amiable and good, and always
willing to do as they were told. They looked so exactly alike, and were
dressed so exactly alike, that often very funny mistakes were made. I
will tell you something that happened, that was not funny, but it will
show you how hard it was to tell which was George, and which was James.
One day, the teacher gave the twins a spelling lesson, and told them
that they must know it perfectly that morning.
Now George, for the first time, was naughty, and instead of learning
the lesson, he was making elephants and giraffes on his slate; but James
studied his lesson, and soon knew it. Presently the teacher said,
"James, do you know your lesson?"
"Yes, sir," said James. He went up to the desk and said it very well.
"You know it perfectly," said his teacher; "you are a good boy. Now go
to your seat."
In a few moments he said, "George, come and say your lesson."
But George did not know a word of it; and James whispered to him, "I
don't want you to be punished, brother; I will go for you and say it
again."
So James went and repeated his lesson. The teacher thought of course it
was George; he said, "Very well, indeed, George; you know it just as
well as James: you are _both_ good boys."
When George heard this praise, which he did not deserve, he was
troubled. He had been taught never to deceive. He did not think at first
how wrong he had been; _now_, he saw plainly, that it was very wrong;
that he and his brother had been _acting_ a lie.
He whispered to James, "Brother, I can't bear to cheat, so I will go and
tell the teacher."
So he went directly up to the desk, and said, "Sir, I have not yet said
my lesson."
"Why, yes you have," replied the teacher; "I have just heard you say
it."
"No, sir, if you please," said George; "I do not know it at all. James
said it twice, to save me from being punished."
"Well, George," replied his teacher, "I am very glad you have told me
this. I never should have found it out. But your conscience told you
that you were doing wrong; and I am thankful you have listened to its
warnings, and made up your mind at once to be an honest boy. I will not
punish you or James, for I am sure neither of you will do so again."
The little boys promised him they never would--and they never did; and
they grew up to be honest and good men.
THE LITTLE BOY THAT WAS AFRAID OF THE WATER.
Once on a time there were two little boys. William was five years old,
and Johnny was not quite three. The weather was very warm, and these
little boys got so weak, and looked so pale and sick, that the doctor
said their parents had better take them to Hastings, and let them bathe
in the sea. So their Mother packed up their clothes, and some books, for
she did not wish them to be idle; and one pleasant afternoon they all
went by the railway to Hastings.
The little boys were very much amused at all they saw. There were
several other boys in the carriage, and William and Johnny looked very
hard at them, and wished they knew what their names were, and whether
they had a Noah's Ark and Rocking-Horse like theirs.
After three hours' ride by the puffing, screaming railway, they arrived
safely at Hastings, and they found a carriage waiting for them, which
soon took them to the house which their papa had hired. Tea was
immediately brought up, and then, as they were all very tired, they went
early to bed.
After breakfast the next morning, William and Johnny walked down to the
smooth and beautiful beach with their parents, where a great many
people, some of them children, were bathing. They seemed to like it very
much; and it really did look very inviting, for the sun made the water
sparkle like diamonds, and the waves seemed dancing and leaping, and
looked as if they longed to give everybody a good splashing.
William was delighted. He could hardly wait to be undressed, he was in
such a great hurry to be ducked; and when the bathing-woman took him and
plunged him under the water, although he gasped for breath, he laughed,
and kicked, and splashed the water, and cried, "Duck me again! duck me
again!" and he looked so pleased, that some other children came to where
he was, and they all had a grand frolic together.
Little Johnny laughed too, as he stood in the machine; but, when his
Mother said, "Come, Johnny, now it is your turn," he made a terrible
face, and cried, "Dear Mamma, please let me go home. I shall never see
you again if you put me in that great big water." But his Mamma said he
must go in, because it would do him a great deal of good, and she
undressed him, and put him into the woman's arms.
Johnny now began to scream as loud as he could, and cried out,
"Mamma, Mamma, I want to go back to you." But the old woman did not mind
him a bit, and holding him by his arms, she plunged him under the water.
[Illustration]
The poor little fellow came up gasping and panting, and sobbed out, "Oh,
my dear Mamma, come and kiss me 'fore I die."
Everybody laughed--for there was no danger--except his kind Mother. A
tear started to her eye, for she knew her dear little son really thought
he was dying, and would never see her again. But in a little while he
felt better, and, after his Mother had taken him, and had rubbed him all
over and dressed him, and he had run up and down the beach with William
and the other children, he felt such a nice warm glow all over him, that
he forgot all about his fright.
Very soon he said, "Mamma, I am so hungry--I am as hungry as a little
bear."
"That is because you have been in the water," replied his Mother.
"Are the fishes always hungry?--does the water make them hungry too?"
said Johnny.
"I believe they are always ready to eat," replied his Mother; "you know
that they are caught by bait. This bait is often a little worm, put upon
a sharp hook. The fish snap at the bait, and the hook catches them in
the mouth. Come, little hungry fish," added his Mother, "and I will give
you something to eat; but I will not put it on a hook to hurt you."