something under his arm. I'll tell you what it is when he gets nearer."
The hens were trying to look under the fence and through the holes.
The gobbler looked for a minute, and then he said: "I do believe--" then
he stopped. "Yes, it is," he continued, looking again; "it's a
rooster."
The gobbler flew down and the turkeys followed and the master drove the
gander and his family back to the yard. "You will get your wings
clipped to-morrow," he said, and then from under his arm he released a
big yellow-and-black rooster, which flew to the ground, looked about,
spread his wings and crowed in a way that plainly said: "I am cock of
this walk and king of this yard. Let none dispute my rights."
The drake collected his family and started for the pond, and the gander
and geese followed along behind.
The turkey spread his wings and held his head high as he strutted away
with his family. But he did not impress the new rooster; he was ruler
and he knew it.
"Now the sun will know when to rise," said one hen, "and we shall know
when to awake."
"Yes," said another, "and we have had a narrow escape; it looked for a
while as if our family were to lose its social standing, but now that we
have a new king we can hold up our heads again and look down on the
others, if we have to go to the top of the wood-pile to do it."
The dog laughed to himself as he walked away. "I knew all the time," he
said, "that the new rooster was coming, but I thought it would do them
good to know they were only fitted to care for their own flock."
[Illustration: headpiece to The Pink and Blue Eggs]
*THE PINK AND BLUE EGGS*
"I tell you I saw them with my own eyes," said old White Hen, standing
on one foot with her neck outstretched and her bill wide open. "One was
pink and the other was blue. They were just like any other egg as far
as size, but the color--think of it--pink and blue eggs. Whoever could
have laid them?" Old White Hen looked from one to the other of the
group of hens and chickens as they stood around her.
"Well, I know that I didn't," said Speckled Hen.
"You needn't look at me," said Brown Hen. "I lay large white eggs, and
you know it, every one of you. They are the best eggs in the yard, if I
do say it."
"Oh, I would not say that," said White Hen. "You seem to forget that the
largest egg ever seen in this yard was laid by me, and it was a little
on the brown color; white eggs are all well enough, but give me a brown
tone for quality."
"You never laid such a large egg as that but once," replied Brown Hen,
"and everybody thought it was a freak egg, so the least said about it
the better, it seems to me."
"It is plain to understand how you feel about that egg," said White Hen,
"but it does not help us to find out who laid the blue and pink eggs."
"Where did you see them?" asked Speckled Hen.
"On the table, by the window of the farm-house," said old White Hen. "I
flew up on a barrel that stood under the window, and then I stretched my
neck and looked in the window, and there on the table, in a little
basket, I saw those strange-looking eggs."
"Perhaps the master had bought them for some one of us to sit on and
hatch out," said Brown Hen.
"Well, I, for one, refuse to do it," said White Hen. "I think it would
be an insult to put those gaudy things into our nests."
"I am sure I will not hatch them," said Speckled Hen. "I would look
funny hiking around here with a blue chick and a pink chick beside me,
and I a speckled hen. No! I will not mother fancy-colored chicks; the
master can find another hen to do that."
"You do not think for a minute that I would do such a thing, I hope,"
said Brown Hen. "I only mentioned the fact that the master might have
such an idea, but as for mixing up colors, I guess not. My little
yellow darlings shall not be disgraced by a blue and a pink chick
running with them."
"Perhaps White Hen is color-blind," said Speckled Hen. "The eggs she
saw may be white, after all."
"If you doubt my word or my sight go and look for yourselves," said
White Hen, holding her head high. "You will find a blue and a pink egg,
just as I told you."
Off ran Speckled Hen and Brown Hen, followed by many others, and all the
chicks in the yard.
One after another they flew to the top of the barrel and looked in the
window at the eggs White Hen had told them of. It was all too true; the
eggs were blue and pink.
"Peep, peep, peep, peep, we want to see the blue and pink eggs, too,"
cried the chickens. "We never saw any and we want to look at them."
"Oh dear! why did I talk before them?" said Brown Hen. "They will not
be quiet unless they see, and how in the world shall I get them up to
that window?"
"Did it ever occur to you not to give them everything they cry for?"
said White Hen. "Say 'No' once in a while; it will save you a lot of
trouble."
"I cannot bear to deny the little darlings anything," said Brown Hen,
clucking her little brood and trying to quiet them.
"Well, you better begin now, for this is one of the things you will not
be able to do." said White Hen, strutting over to the dog-house to tell
the story of the blue and pink eggs to Towser.
"Wouldn't it be just too awful if the master puts those eggs in one of
our nests?" asked White Hen, when she had finished her story.
"Oh--oh!" laughed Towser, "that is a good joke on you; don't know your
own eggs when you see them."
"Don't tell me I laid those fancy-colored eggs," said White Hen, looking
around to see if any of her companions were within hearing distance. "I
know I never did."
"But you did," said Towser, laughing again. "I heard the master say to
my little mistress, 'If you want eggs to color for Easter take the ones
that White Hen laid; they are not so large as the others, and I cannot
sell them so well.'"
"Towser, if you will never mention what you have just told me I will
tell you where I saw a great big bone this morning," said White Hen. "I
was saving it for myself. I like to pick at one once in a while, but
you shall have it if you promise to keep secret what you just told me."
Towser promised, and White Hen showed where it was hidden.
A few days after Brown Hen said: "I wonder when master is going to bring
out those fancy eggs. If he leaves them in the house much longer no one
will be able to hatch them."
"Oh! I forgot to tell you that those eggs were not real eggs, after
all," said White Hen, "but only Easter eggs for the master's little girl
to play with, so we had all our worry for nothing. Towser told me, but
don't say a word to him, for I did not let on that we were worried and
didn't know they were only make-believe eggs; he thinks he is so wise,
you know, it would never do to let him know how we were fooled."
[Illustration: headpiece to Why the Morning-glory Sleeps]
*WHY THE MORNING-GLORY SLEEPS*
One day the flowers got into a very angry discussion over the sun, of
whom they were very fond.
"Surely you all must know that he loves me best," said the rose. "He
shines upon me and makes me sweeter than any of you, and he gives me the
colors that are most admired by man."
"I do not see how you can say that," said the dahlia. "You may give
forth more fragrance than I can, but you cannot think for a second that
you are more beautiful. Why, my colors are richer than yours and last
much longer! The sun certainly loves me the best."
The modest lily looked at the dahlia and said in a low, sweet voice, "I
do not wish to be bold, but I feel that the sun loves me and that I
should let you know that he gives to me more fragrance than to any of
you."
"Oh, oh! Hear lily!" said the others in chorus. "She thinks the king of
day loves her best."
The lily hung her head and said no more, for the other flowers quite
frightened her with their taunts.
"How can any of you think you are the best beloved of the sun?" said
goldenglow. "When you behold my glowing color which the sun bestows on
me, do any of you look so much like him as I do? No, indeed; he loves me
best."
The hollyhock looked down on the others with pitying glances. "It is
plain to be seen that you have never noticed that the sun shines on me
with more warmth than on you, and now I must tell you he loves me best
and gives me the tenderest of his smiles. See how tall I am and how
gorgeous are my colors. He loves me best."
"When it comes to sweetness, I am sure you have forgotten me," said the
honeysuckle. "Why, the king of day loves me best, you may be sure! He
makes me give forth more sweetness than any of you."
"You may be very sweet," said the pansy, "but surely you know that my
pet name is heart's-ease and that the sun loves me best. To none of you
does he give such velvet beauty as to me. I am nearest his heart and
his best beloved."
The morning-glory listened to all this with envy in her heart. She did
not give forth sweetness, as many of the others, neither did she possess
the beauty of the rose or the pansy.
"If only I could get him to notice me," she thought. "I am dainty and
frail, and I am sure he would admire me if only he could behold me; but
the others are always here and in such glowing colors that poor little
me is overshadowed by their beauty."
All day morning-glory thought of the sun and wondered how she could
attract his attention to herself, and at night she smiled, for she had
thought of a plan. She would get up early in the morning and greet him
before the other flowers were awake.
She went to bed early that night so that she might not oversleep in the
morning, and when the first streak of dawn showed in the sky
morning-glory opened her eyes and shook out her delicate folds. The dew
was on her and she turned her face toward the sun.
As soon as she peeped into the garden the sun beheld her. "How dainty
and lovely you are!" he said. "I have never noticed before the beauty
of your colors, morning-glory," and he let his warm glances fall and
linger upon her.
The sunflower all this time was watching with jealous eyes, for she was
the one who had always welcomed the sun, and this morning he seemed to
have entirely forgotten her.
Still sunflower kept her gaze upon them and wondered what she could do
to win back her king from the delicate little morning-glory.
But as she looked she saw the morning-glory sway and nod her head. "She
is going to sleep," said the sunflower; "his warm breath makes her
drowsy, or else she was up so early that she cannot keep awake."
While the sunflower watched, sure enough the morning-glory nodded and
closed her eyes. She was fast asleep, and the fickle sun, seeing that
she no longer looked upon him, looked away and beheld the sunflower
looking toward him with longing eyes.
"Good morning, King," she said, as she caught his eye, and she was wise
enough not to let him know she had seen him before. So the sun smiled
and turned his face upon them all, and the sunflower kept to herself
what she had seen, knowing full well that she was the one who knew best
how to keep his first and last glances.
A little later one of the flowers called out: "Look at morning-glory;
she is still sleeping. Let us tell her it is time to awaken."
"Morning-glory! morning-glory!" they called, but she did not answer.
She was sound asleep.
"That is strange," said the rose. "I wonder if she has gone to sleep
never to awake. I have heard of such things happening."
After two or three mornings the other flowers ceased to notice
morning-glory, for they thought she had ceased to be one of them, but
the wise sunflower kept her own counsel. She knew that morning-glory
had to sleep all day in order that she might not miss the sun; but, as I
told you, she was wise enough not to complain, and she kept his love for
her by so doing.
[Illustration: headpiece to Dorothy and the Portrait]
*DOROTHY AND THE PORTRAIT*
Dorothy was very fond of her grandmother and grandfather, and liked to
visit them, but there were no little girls to play with, and sometimes
she was lonely for some one her own age. She would wander about the
house looking for the queer things that grandmothers always have in
their homes. The hall clock interested Dorothy very much. It stood on
the landing at the top of the stairs, and she used to sit and listen to
its queer tick-tock and watch the hands, which moved with little nervous
jumps. Then there were on its face the stars and the moon and the sun,
and they all were very wonderful to Dorothy. One day she went into the
big parlor, where there were pictures of her grandfather and
grandmother, and her great-grandfather and great-grandmother, also.
Dorothy thought the "greats" looked very sedate, and she felt sure they
must have been very old to have been the parents of her grandfather.
But the picture that interested her the most was a large painting of
three children, one a little girl about her own age, and one other
older, and a boy, who wore queer-looking trousers, cut off below the
knee. His suit was of black velvet, and he wore white stockings and
black shoes. The little girls were dressed in white, and their dresses
had short sleeves and low necks. The older girl had black hair, but the
one that Dorothy thought was her age had long, golden curls like hers,
only the girl in the picture wore her hair parted, and the curls hung
all about her face.
Dorothy climbed into a big chair and sat looking at them. "I wish they
could play with me," she thought, and she smiled at the little
golden-haired girl. And then, wonderful to tell, the girl in the
picture smiled at Dorothy.
"Oh! are you alive?" asked Dorothy.
"Of course I am," the little girl replied. "I will come down, if you
would like to have me, and visit with you."
"Oh, I should be so glad to have you!" Dorothy answered.
Then the boy stepped to the edge of the frame, and from there to the top
of a big chair which stood under the picture, and stood in the chair
seat. He held out his hand to the little girls and helped them to the
floor in the most courtly manner. Dorothy got out of her chair and
asked them to be seated, and the boy placed chairs for them beside her.
"What is your name?" asked the golden-haired girl, for she was the only
one who spoke.
"That was my name," she said, when Dorothy told her. "I lived in this
house," she continued, "and we used to have such good times. This is my
sister and my brother." The little girl and boy smiled, but they let
their sister do all the talking. "We used to roast chestnuts in the
fireplace," she said, "and once we had a party in this room, and played
all sorts of games."
Dorothy could not imagine that quiet room filled with children.
"Do you remember how we frightened poor old Uncle Zack in this room?"
she said to her brother and sister, and then they all laughed.
"Do tell me about it," said Dorothy.
"These glass doors by the fireplace did not have curtains in our day,"
said the little girl, "and there were shells and other things from the
ocean in one cupboard, and in the other there were a sword and a helmet
and a pair of gauntlets. My brother wrapped a sheet around him and put
on the helmet and the gauntlets, and, taking the sword in his hand, he
climbed into the cupboard and sat down. We girls closed the doors and
hid behind the sofa. Uncle Zack came in to fix the fire, and my brother
beckoned to him. Poor Zack dropped the wood he was carrying and fell on
his knees, trembling with fright. The door was not fastened and my
brother pushed it open and pointed the sword at poor Uncle Zack.
"'Don' hurt a po' ol' nigger,' said Zack, very faintly. 'I 'ain' don'
noffin', 'deed I 'ain'.'
"'You told about the jam the children ate,' said my brother, in a deep
voice, 'and you know you drank the last drop of rum Mammy Sue had for
her rheumatism, and for this you must be punished,' and he brought the
sword down on the floor of the cupboard with a bang.
"Poor Uncle Zack fell on his face with fright. This was too much for my
sister and me, and we laughed out.
"You never saw any one change so quickly as Uncle Zack. He jumped up
and we ran, but my brother had to get out of his disguise, and Uncle
Zack caught him. He agreed not to tell our father if we did not tell
about his fright, and so we escaped being punished."
"Tell me more about your life in this old house," said Dorothy, when the
little girl finished her story. But just then the picture of Dorothy's
great-grandmother moved and out she stepped from her frame. She walked
with a very stately air toward the children and put her hand on the
shoulder of the little girl who had been telling the story, and said:
"You better go back to your frame now."
"Oh dear!" said the little girl. "I did so dislike being grown up, and
I had forgotten all about it, when my grown-up self reminds me. That is
the trouble when you are in the room with your grown-up picture," she
told Dorothy. "You see, I had to be so sedate after I married that I
never even dared to think of my girlhood, but you come in here again
some day and I will tell you more about the good times we had."
The boy mounted the chair first and helped his sisters back into the
frame. Dorothy looked for her great-grandmother, but she, too, was back
in her frame, looking as sedate as ever. The next day Dorothy asked her
grandmother who the children were in the big picture.
"This one," she said, pointing to the little golden-haired girl, "was
your great-grandmother; you were named for her; and the other little
girl and boy were your grandfather's aunt and uncle. They were your
great-great-aunt and uncle."
Dorothy did not quite understand the "great-great" part of it, but she
was glad to know that her stately-looking great-grandmother had once
been a little girl like her, and some day, when the great-grandmother's
picture is not looking, she expects to hear more about the fun the
children had in the days long ago.
[Illustration: headpiece to Mistress Pussy's Mistake]
*MISTRESS PUSSY'S MISTAKE*
A very kind gentleman, who lived in a big house which was in the midst
of a beautiful park, had a handsome cat of which he was very fond. While
he felt sure Pussy was fond of him, he knew very well she would hurt the
birds, so he put a pretty ribbon around Pussy's neck, and on it a little
silver bell which tinkled whenever she moved and this warned the birds
that she was near.
Pussy resented this, but pretended she did not care. One day a thrush
was singing very sweetly on the bough of a tree which overhung a small
lake. Pussy walked along under the tree, and, looking up at the thrush,
said: "Madam Thrush, you have a most beautiful voice, and you are a very
handsome bird. I do wish I were nearer to you, for I am not so young as
I was once, and I cannot hear so well."
The thrush trilled a laugh at Pussy, and said: "Yes, Miss Puss, I can
well believe you wish me nearer, but not to see or hear me better, but
that you might grasp me."
Pussy pretended not to hear the last remark, but said: "My beautiful
Thrush, will you not come down where I can hear you better? I cannot
get about as nimbly as I used to when I was young, or I would go to
you."
"I cannot sing so well on the ground," replied the thrush. "You can
come up here, even if you are not so spry as you were. But tell me, do
you not find the bell you wear very trying to your nerves?"
"Oh no," answered sly Pussy. "It is so pretty that I'm glad to wear it,
and my master thinks I am so handsome that he likes to see me dressed
well. And then he can always find me when he hears the bell. That is
why I wear it."
"I understand," answered the thrush, "and we birds are always glad to
hear it, too." And she trilled another laugh at Pussy and added, "You
are certainly a very handsome creature, Miss Puss."
Pussy all this time had very slowly climbed the tree, for she wanted the
thrush to think she was old and slow, but the bird had her bright eyes
upon her. When Pussy reached the branch the thrush was on she stopped
and seated herself.
"Now, my pretty little friend, do sing to me your loudest song."
She hoped it would be loud enough to drown the tinkle of the bell. The
thrush began and was soon singing very sweetly. Pussy took a very
cautious step and then remained quiet. The thrush stopped singing and
spread her wings.
"Oh, do not stop!" said Puss. "Your song was so soothing I was in a
doze; do sing again." And she moved a little closer.
The thrush took a step nearer to the end of the bough and said: "I am
glad you like my voice. I will sing again if it pleases you so much."
She began her song, but she kept her eyes on Puss, and as Puss drew
nearer she moved closer to the end of the swinging bough.
She had reached a very high note when Puss gave a spring, but the thrush
was too quick; she flew out of Pussy's reach, and splash went Pussy into
the lake, for she had not noticed that the thrush was moving to the end
of the bough, so intent was she on the thought of catching her.
Poor Pussy was very wet when she scrambled to the bank of the lake, and
the birds were chirping and making a great noise.
"How did you like your bath, Miss Puss?" the thrush called to her. "You
should never lay traps for others, for often you fall into them
yourself."
[Illustration: headpiece to Kid]
*KID*
Kid was one of those little boys who seemed to have grown up on the
streets of the big city where he lived.
He never remembered a mother or a father, and no one ever took care of
him. His first remembrance was of an old woman who gave him a crust of
bread, and he slept in the corner of her room. One day they carried her
away, and since then Kid had slept in a doorway or an alley.
By selling papers he managed to get enough to eat, and if he did not
have the money he stole to satisfy his hunger.
He was often cold and hungry, but he saw many other children that were
in the same condition, and he did not suppose that any one ever had
enough to eat or a warm place to sleep every night.
Kid went in to the Salvation Army meetings, when they held them in his
neighborhood, because it was a place where the wind did not blow, and
while there he heard them sing and talk about Some One who loved
everybody and would help you if only you would ask Him. Kid was never
able to find out just where this Person lived, and, therefore, he could
not ask for help.
One day Kid saw a lady who was too well dressed to belong in his part of
the city, and he followed her, thinking that she might have a
pocket-book he could take. The opportunity did not offer itself,
however, and before Kid realized it he was in a part of the city he had
never seen before.
The buildings were tall and the streets much cleaner than where he
lived. Kid walked along, looking in windows of the stores, when he
noticed a lady standing beside him with a jeweled watch hanging from her
belt.
He had never seen anything so beautiful or so easy to take, and he
waited for a few more people to gather around the window, and then he
carefully reached for the watch, and with one pull off came the trinket,
and away ran Kid, like a deer, with the watch clasped firmly in his
begrimed little hand.
On and on he ran, not knowing where he was going--nor caring, for that
matter--and it seemed to Kid that the whole world was crying, "Stop,
thief!" and was chasing him.
After a while the noise grew fainter and fainter and he stopped and
looked back. There was not a person in sight.
Kid looked around him. All the houses were large with clean stone steps
in front of them. Kid sat down on the bottom step of one of these
houses and looked at his treasure.
He held it to his ear and heard its soft tick, then he looked at the
sparkling stones on the case. He opened it and watched the little hands
move, then he opened the back part, and there was the picture of a baby,
a little boy, Kid thought. Around its chubby face were curls, and its
eyes were large and earnest-looking. Kid sat gazing at it for some
minutes, wondering who it was. When he looked up he saw a large
building across the street with a steeple on it, and on the top of that
a cross.
The door of the building was open, and after a while Kid walked across
the street and up the long, wide steps. He went in and looked
cautiously about. It was still and no one was to be seen.
There were two doors, and Kid went to one of them and pushed it open.
He thought for a minute he was dreaming, for he did not suppose that
anything so grand could be real.
There were rows and rows of seats, and at the very end of the big room
Kid saw a light. He walked down one of the aisles to where the little
flame was burning, and stood in front of the altar.
Kid looked at everything with a feeling of awe, but he had not the
slightest idea of what it all meant, and he wondered who lived in this
beautiful house, and thought it strange that no one appeared and told
him to go out.