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THE CHILD'S WORLD
THIRD READER
BY
HETTY S. BROWNE
Extension worker in rural school practice
Winthrop Normal and Industrial College
Rock Hill, S.C.
SARAH WITHERS
Principal Elementary Grades and Critic Teacher
Winthrop Normal and Industrial College
AND
W.K. TATE
Professor of Rural Education
George Peabody College for Teachers
Nashville, Tenn.
JOHNSON PUBLISHING COMPANY
Richmond, Virginia
TEACHERS' AIDS
Success with the Child's World Readers is in no wise dependent on the
use of the chart, manual, or cards.
Modern teachers of reading, however, recognize the saving of time and
effort to be accomplished for both their pupils and themselves by the
use of cards, chart, and manual, and look to the publisher to provide
these accessories in convenient form and at moderate cost.
The following aids are therefore offered in the belief that they will
make the work of the teacher, trained or untrained, more effective.
Child's World Reader Charts......................$6.00
(10 beautiful charts in colors 27x37--20 lessons)
Child's World Manual.............................75c
(Suggestions and outlines for first 5 grades)
Child's World Word Cards........................$1.00
(129 cards--258 words in Primer vocabulary)
Child's World Phrase Cards........................75c
(48 cards--96 phrases)
Child's World Phonic Cards...................80c
(80 cards printed both sides)
JOHNSON PUBLISHING COMPANY
Richmond, Virginia.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For permission to use copyrighted material the authors and publishers
express their indebtedness to _The Independent_ for "Who Loves the Trees
Best?" by Alice M. Douglas; to Oliver Herford and the Century Company
for "The Elf and the Dormouse"; to the American Folklore Society for
"How Brother Rabbit Fooled the Whale and the Elephant," by Alcee
Fortier; to the _Outlook_ for "Making the Best of It," by Frances M.
Fox, and "Winter Nights," by Mary F. Butts; to Harper Brothers for "The
Animals and the Mirror," from _Told by the Sand Man_; to Rand McNally &
Company for "Little Hope's Doll," from _Stories of the Pilgrims_, by
Margaret Pumphrey; to Daughady & Company for "Squeaky and the Scare
Box," from _Christmas Stories_, by Georgene Faulkner; to D.C. Heath &
Company for "The Little Cook's Reward," from _Stories of the Old North
State_, by Mrs. L.A. McCorkle; to Charles Scribner's Sons for "A Good
Play" and "Block City," by Robert Louis Stevenson, "The Glad New Year,"
from _Rhymes and Jingles_, by Mary Mapes Dodge, "A Christmas Wish" and
"Rock-a-by-Lady," by Eugene Field; to Houghton Mifflin Company for
permission to adapt selections from _Hiawatha_; to Doubleday, Page &
Company for "The Sand Man," by Margaret Vandergrift, from _The Posy
Ring_--Wiggin and Smith; to James A. Honey for "The Monkey's Fiddle,"
from _South African Tales_; to Maud Barnard for "Donal and Conal"; to
Maud Barnard and Emilie Yonker for their versions of Epaminondas.
Supplementary Historical Reading
Life of General Robert E. Lee
_For Third and Fourth Grades_
Life of General Thomas J. Jackson
_For Third and Fourth Grades_
Life of Washington
_For Fourth and Fifth Grades_
Life of General N.B. Forrest
_For Fifth Grade_
Life of General J.E.B. Stuart
_For Fifth and Sixth Grades_
Soldier Life in the Army of Northern Virginia
_For Fifth Grade_
Tennessee History Stories
_For Third and Fourth Grades_
North Carolina History Stories
_For Fourth and Fifth Grades_
Texas History Stories
_For Fifth and Sixth Grades_
Half-Hours in Southern History
_For Sixth and Seventh Grades_
The Yemassee (_Complete Edition_)
_For Seventh and Eighth Grades_
(Ask for catalog containing list of other supplementary reading)
JOHNSON PUBLISHING COMPANY
RICHMOND, VA.
CONTENTS
PHILEMON AND BAUCIS, _Flora J. Cooke_, 9
THE POPLAR TREE, _Flora J. Cooke_, 15
WHO LOVES THE TREES BEST?, _Alice May Douglas_, 18
LEAVES IN AUTUMN, 19
A STORY OF BIRD LIFE, _Henry Ward Beecher_, 20
BOB WHITE, _George Cooper_, 25
HOW MARY GOT A NEW DRESS, 26
THE PLAID DRESS, 30
THE GODDESS OF THE SILKWORM, 34
THE FLAX, _Hans Christian Andersen_, 37
THE WONDERFUL WORLD, _William Brighty Rands_, 41
THE HILLMAN AND THE HOUSEWIFE, _Juliana H. Ewing_, 42
THE ELF AND THE DORMOUSE, _Oliver Herford_, 46
THE BELL OF ATRI, _Italian Tale_, 48
A DUMB WITNESS, _Arabian Tale_, 53
GIVING THANKS, 56
THE HARE AND THE HEDGEHOG, _Grimm_, 58
EPAMINONDAS, _Southern Tale_, 67
HOW BROTHER RABBIT FOOLED THE WHALE AND THE ELEPHANT, _Southern Folk
Tale_, 73
A CHRISTMAS WISH, _Eugene Field_, 79
THE CHRISTMAS BELLS, _Old Tale Retold_, 82
GOD BLESS THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE, _Old English Rime_, 89
SQUEAKY AND THE SCARE BOX, _Georgene Faulkner_, 90
THE GLAD NEW YEAR, _Mary Mapes Dodge_, 99
MAKING THE BEST OF IT, _Frances M. Fox_, 100
THE ANIMALS AND THE MIRROR, _F.A. Walker_, 106
THE BARBER OF BAGDAD, _Eastern Tale_, 115
WINTER NIGHTS, _Mary F. Butts_, 122
LITTLE HOPE'S DOLL, _Margaret Pumphrey_, 123
NAHUM PRINCE, 130
THE LITTLE COOK'S REWARD, _Mrs. L.A. McCorkle_, 134
ROCK-A-BY, HUSH-A-BY, LITTLE PAPOOSE, _Charles Myall_, 139
THE TAR WOLF, _The Indian Tar-Baby Story_, 140
THE RABBIT AND THE WOLF, _Southern Indian Tale_, 149
BLOCK CITY, _Robert Louis Stevenson_, 154
A GOOD PLAY, _Robert Louis Stevenson_, 155
THE MONKEY'S FIDDLE, _African Tale_, 156
THE THREE TASKS, _Grimm_, 163
THE WORLD'S MUSIC, _Gabriel Setoun_, 170
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY, _Grimm_, 172
THE UGLY DUCKLING, _Hans Christian Andersen_, 181
THE WHITE BLACKBIRD, _Adapted from Alfred de Musset_, 192
THE BROWN THRUSH, _Lucy Larcom_, 199
THE KING AND THE GOOSEHERD, _Old Tale_, 200
DONAL AND CONAL, _Irish Tale_, 206
WHO TOLD THE NEWS?, 212
THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH, _Adapted from Longfellow_, 213
THE TRAILING ARBUTUS, _Indian Legend_, 218
HIDDEN TREASURE, _Grimm_, 223
THE LITTLE BROWN BROTHER, _Emily Nesbit_, 228
HOW THE FLOWERS GROW, _Gabriel Setoun_, 229
WISE MEN OF GOTHAM, _Old English Story_, 230
THE MILLER'S GUEST, _English Ballad (adapted)_, 233
SADDLE TO RAGS, _English Ballad (adapted)_, 239
THE ROCK-A-BY LADY, _Eugene Field_, 244
THE SAND MAN, _Margaret Vandergrift_, 246
A DICTIONARY, 249
SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS, 253
[Illustration: Girl reading a book]
Oh, for a nook and a story-book,
With tales both new and old;
For a jolly good book whereon to look
Is better to me than gold.
--OLD ENGLISH SONG.
[Illustration: Country house]
PHILEMON AND BAUCIS
I
Long ago, on a high hill in Greece, Philemon and Baucis lived.
They were poor, but they were never unhappy. They had many hives of bees
from which they got honey, and many vines from which they gathered
grapes. One old cow gave them all the milk that they could use, and they
had a little field in which grain was raised.
The old couple had as much as they needed, and were always ready to
share whatever they had with any one in want. No stranger was ever
turned from their door.
At the foot of the hill lay a beautiful village, with pleasant roads and
rich pasture lands all around. But it was full of wicked, selfish,
people, who had no love in their hearts and thought only of themselves.
At the time of this story, the people in the village were very busy.
Zeus, who they believed ruled the world, had sent word that he was about
to visit them. They were preparing a great feast and making everything
beautiful for his coming.
One evening, just at dark, two beggars came into the valley. They
stopped at every house and asked for food and a place to sleep; but the
people were too busy or too tired to attend to their needs. They were
thinking only of the coming of Zeus.
Footsore and weary, the two beggars at last climbed the hill to the hut
of Philemon and Baucis. These good people had eaten very little, for
they were saving their best food for Zeus.
When they saw the beggars, Philemon said, "Surely these men need food
more than Zeus. They look almost starved."
"Indeed, they do!" said Baucis, and she ran quickly to prepare supper
for the strangers.
She spread her best white cloth upon the table, and brought out bacon,
herbs, honey, grapes, bread, and milk. She set these upon the table in
all the best dishes she had and called the strangers in.
Then what do you suppose happened? The dishes that the strangers touched
turned to gold. The pitcher was never empty, although they drank glass
after glass of milk. The loaf of bread stayed always the same size,
although the strangers cut slice after slice.
"These are strange travelers," whispered the old couple to each other.
"They do wonderful things."
II
That night Philemon and Baucis slept upon the floor that the strangers
might have their one bed. In the morning they went with the travelers to
the foot of the hill to see them safely started on their way.
"Now, good people," said one of the strangers, "we thank you, and
whatever you wish shall be yours."
As he said this, his face became like that of the sun. Then Philemon and
Baucis knew that Zeus had spoken to them.
"Grant, O Zeus, that one of us may not outlive the other," they cried in
one voice.
"Your wish is granted," said Zeus; "yes, and more. Return to your home
and be happy."
[Illustration: Philemon and Baucis walking home]
Philemon and Baucis turned homeward, and, lo! their hut was changed to a
beautiful castle.
The old people turned around to thank their guests, but they had
disappeared.
In this castle Philemon and Baucis lived many years. They still did all
they could for others, and were always so happy that they never thought
of wishing anything for themselves.
As the years passed, the couple grew very old and feeble. One day Baucis
said to Philemon, "I wish we might never die, but could always live
together."
"Ah, that is my wish, too!" sighed old Philemon.
The next morning the marble palace was gone; Baucis and Philemon were
gone; but there on the hilltop stood two beautiful trees, an oak and a
linden.
No one knew what became of the good people. After many years, however, a
traveler lying under the trees heard them whispering to each other.
"Baucis," whispered the oak.
"Philemon," replied the linden.
There the trees stood through sun and rain, always ready to spread their
leafy shade over every tired stranger who passed that way.
--FLORA J. COOKE.
THE POPLAR TREE
Long ago the poplar used to hold out its branches like other trees. It
tried to see how far it could spread them.
Once at sunset an old man came through the forest where the poplar trees
lived. The trees were going to sleep, and it was growing dark.
The man held something under his cloak. It was a pot of gold--the very
pot of gold that lies at the foot of the rainbow. He had stolen it and
was looking for some place to hide it. A poplar tree stood by the path.
"This is the very place to hide my treasure," the man said. "The
branches spread out straight, and the leaves are large and thick. How
lucky that the trees are all asleep!"
He placed the pot of gold in the thick branches, and then ran quickly
away.
The gold belonged to Iris, the beautiful maiden who had a rainbow bridge
to the earth. The next morning she missed her precious pot. It always
lay at the foot of the rainbow, but it was not there now.
Iris hurried away to tell her father, the great Zeus, of her loss. He
said that he would find the pot of gold for her.
He called a messenger, the swift-footed Mercury, and said, "Go quickly,
and do not return until you have found the treasure."
Mercury went as fast as the wind down to the earth. He soon came to the
forest and awakened the trees.
"Iris has lost her precious pot of gold that lies at the foot of the
rainbow. Have any of you seen it?" he asked.
The trees were very sleepy, but all shook their heads.
"We have not seen it," they said.
"Hold up your branches," said Mercury. "I must see that the pot of gold
is not hidden among them."
All of the trees held up their branches. The poplar that stood by the
path was the first to hold up his. He was an honest tree and knew he had
nothing to hide.
[Illustration: Mercury among the trees]
Down fell the pot of gold. How surprised the poplar tree was! He dropped
his branches in shame. Then he held them high in the air.
"Forgive me," he said. "I do not know how it came to be there; but,
hereafter, I shall always hold my branches up. Then every one can see
that I have nothing hidden."
Since then the branches have always grown straight up; and every one
knows that the poplar is an honest and upright tree.
--FLORA J. COOKE.
WHO LOVES THE TREES BEST?
Who loves the trees best?
"I," said the Spring;
"Their leaves so beautiful
To them I bring."
Who loves the trees best?
"I," Summer said;
"I give them blossoms,
White, yellow, red."
Who loves the trees best?
"I," said the Fall;
"I give luscious fruits,
Bright tints to all."
Who loves the trees best?
"I love them best,"
Harsh Winter answered;
"I give them rest."
--ALICE MAY DOUGLAS.
LEAVES IN AUTUMN
Red and gold, and gold and red,
Autumn leaves burned overhead;
Hues so splendid
Softly blended,
Oh, the glory that they shed!
Red and gold, and gold and red.
Gold and brown, and brown and gold,
Of such fun the west wind told
That they listened,
And they glistened,
As they wrestled in the cold;
Gold and brown, and brown and gold.
Brown and gold, and red and brown,
How they hurried, scurried down
For a frolic,
For a rolic,
Through the country and the town,
Brown and gold, and red and brown.
[Illustration: A bird in a tree]
A STORY OF BIRD LIFE
I
Once there came to our fields a pair of birds. They had never built a
nest nor seen a winter.
Oh, how beautiful was everything! The fields were full of flowers, the
grass was growing tall, and the bees were humming everywhere.
One of the birds fell to singing, and the other bird said, "Who told you
to sing?"
He answered, "The flowers and the bees told me. The blue sky told me,
and you told me."
"When did I tell you to sing?" asked his mate.
"Every time you brought in tender grass for the nest," he replied.
"Every time your soft wings fluttered off again for hair and feathers to
line it."
Then his mate asked, "What are you singing about?"
"I am singing about everything," he answered. "I sing because I am
happy."
By and by five little speckled eggs were in the nest, and the mother
bird asked, "Is there anything in all the world as pretty as my eggs?"
A week or two afterward, the mother said, "Oh, what do you think has
happened? One of my eggs has been peeping and moving."
Soon another egg moved, then another, and another, till five eggs were
hatched.
The little birds were so hungry that it kept the parents busy feeding
them. Away they both flew. The moment the little birds heard them coming
back, five yellow mouths flew open wide.
"Can anybody be happier?" said the father bird to the mother bird. "We
will live in this tree always. It is a tree that bears joy."
II
The very next day one of the birds dropped out of the nest, and in a
moment a cat ate it up. Only four remained, and the parent birds were
very sad. There was no song all that day, nor the next.
Soon the little birds were big enough to fly. The first bird that tried
his wings flew from one branch to another. His parents praised him, and
the other baby birds wondered how he had done it.
The little one was so proud of it that he tried again. He flew and flew
and couldn't stop flying. At last he fell plump! down by the kitchen
door. A little boy caught him and carried him into the house.
Now only three birds were left. The sun no longer seemed bright to the
birds, and they did not sing so often.
In a little time the other birds learned to use their wings, and they
flew away and away. They found their own food and made their own nests.
Then the old birds sat silent and looked at each other a long while. At
last the mother bird asked, "Why don't you sing?"
"I can't sing," the father bird answered. "I only think and think!"
"What are you thinking of?"
"I am thinking how everything changes. The leaves are falling, and soon
there will be no roof over our heads. The flowers are all gone. Last
night there was a frost. Almost all the birds have flown away, and I am
restless. Something calls me, and I feel that I must fly away, too."
[Illustration: Two birds flying over a field]
"Let us fly away together!" the mother bird said.
Then they rose silently up in the air. They looked to the north; far
away they saw the snow coming. They looked to the south; there they saw
green leaves.
All day they flew. All night they flew and flew, till they found a land
where there was no winter. There it was summer all the time; flowers
always blossomed and birds always sang.
--HENRY WARD BEECHER
BOB WHITE
There's a plump little chap in a speckled coat,
And he sits on the zigzag rails remote,
Where he whistles at breezy, bracing morn,
When the buckwheat is ripe, and stacked is the corn:
"Bob White! Bob White! Bob White!"
Is he hailing some comrade as blithe as he?
Now I wonder where Robert White can be!
O'er the billows of gold and amber grain
There is no one in sight--but, hark again:
"Bob White! Bob White! Bob White!"
Ah! I see why he calls; in the stubble there
Hide his plump little wife and babies fair!
So contented is he, and so proud of the same,
That he wants all the world to know his name:
"Bob White! Bob White! Bob White!"
--GEORGE COOPER.
HOW MARY GOT A NEW DRESS
Mary lived a long time ago. She was a little girl when your
great-great-grandmother was a little girl.
In those days all cloth had to be made at home. Aunt Dinah, Aunt Chloe,
and Aunt Dilsey were kept busy spinning and weaving to make clothes for
the whole plantation.
One day Mary's mother said, "Aunt Dilsey, Mary needs a new dress, and I
want you to weave some cloth at once. Can you weave some very fine
cloth?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Aunt Dilsey. "I have some cotton I've been saving to
make her a dress."
Aunt Dilsey got out the cards and carded the cotton smooth and fine.
Then she fastened a roll of this cotton to the spindle and sent the
wheel whirling around with a "Zum-m-m-m--Zum-m-m-m!"
Mary stood and watched the old woman.
[Illustration: Mary watching Aunt Dilsey at spinning wheel]
"Aunt Dilsey," she said, "the spinning wheel sings a song, and I know
what it says. Grandmother told me. It says,
'A hum and a whirl,
A twist and a twirl,
This is for the girl
With the golden curl!
Zum-m-m-m-m-m!
Zum-m-m-m-m-m!'"
"And that means you, honey," said Aunt Dilsey.
When the yarn was ready, Aunt Dilsey fastened it in the loom and began
to weave. The threads went over and under, over and under. As Aunt
Dilsey wove, she hummed. Mary stood by and sang this song,
"Over and under and over we go,
Weaving the cotton as white as the snow,
Weaving the cloth for a dress, oh, ho!
As over and under and over we go."
After the cloth had been woven, Aunt Dilsey took it out of the loom.
Then she bleached it until it was as white as snow. Now it was ready to
be made into a dress.
"Mother, do tell me how you are going to make the dress," said Mary.
"Will it have ruffles on it like Sue's? Will it have trimming on it? And
how many buttons will you put on it? Sue's dress has twelve; I know, for
I counted them."
Mother did not answer all these questions; she just smiled as the
scissors went snip, snip into the cloth. But she did cut out ruffles,
and Aunt Maria began to hem them.
[Illustration: Mary with her mother and grandmother]
By and by grandmother came into the room.
"Mary," she said, "here is some lace I got in England. Mother may put it
on your dress."
How happy Mary was! She danced for joy.
Mother put on the lace, and grandmother worked the buttonholes. How many
do you suppose she worked? Why, she worked twelve!
When the dress was finished, it was just like Sue's. Only it was a great
deal finer, for Mary's dress had three ruffles and Sue's had only two!
And, then, there was the lace from England!
THE PLAID DRESS
"I want a warm plaid dress," said a little girl. "The days are colder,
and the frost will soon be here. But how can I get it? Mother says that
she cannot buy one for me."
The old white sheep in the meadow heard her, and he bleated to the
shepherd, "The little girl wants a warm plaid dress. I will give my
wool. Who else will help?"
The kind shepherd said, "I will." Then he led the old white sheep to the
brook and washed its wool. When it was clean and white, he said, "The
little girl wants a warm plaid dress. The sheep has given his wool, and
I have washed it clean and white. Who else will help?"
"We will," said the shearers. "We will bring our shears and cut off the
wool."
The shearers cut the soft wool from the old sheep, and then they called,
"The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The
shepherd has washed it; and we have sheared it. Who else will help?"
[Illustration: Shearer shearing the sheep]
"We will," cried the carders. "We will comb it out straight and smooth."
Soon they held up the wool, carded straight and smooth, and they cried,
"The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The
shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have cut it, and we have
carded it. Who else will help?"
"We will," said the spinners. "We will spin it into thread."
"Whirr, whirr!" How fast the spinning wheels turned, singing all the
time.
Soon the spinners said, "The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep
has given his wool. The shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have
cut it. The carders have carded it, and we have spun it into thread. Who
else will help?"
"We will," said the dyers. "We will dye it with beautiful colors."
Then they dipped the woven threads into bright dye, red and blue and
green and brown.
As they spread the wool out to dry, the dyers called: "The little girl
wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The shepherd has washed
the wool. The shearers have cut it. The carders have carded it. The
spinners have spun it, and we have dyed it with bright beautiful colors.
Who else will help?"
"We will," said the weavers. "We will make it into cloth."
[Illustration: Weaver at loom]
"Clickety-clack! clickety-clack!" went the loom, as the colored thread
was woven over and under over and under. Before long it was made into
beautiful plaid cloth.
Then the little girl's mother cut and made the dress. It was a beautiful
plaid dress, and the little girl loved to wear it. Every time she put it
on, she thought of her friends who had helped her,--the sheep, the
shearers, the carders, the spinners, the dyers, the weavers, and her own
dear mother.
THE GODDESS OF THE SILKWORM
Hoangti was the emperor of China. He had a beautiful wife whose name was
Si-ling. The emperor and his wife loved their people and always thought
of their happiness.
In those days the Chinese people wore clothes made of skins. By and by
animals grew scarce, and the people did not know what they should wear.
The emperor and empress tried in vain to find some other way of clothing
them.
One morning Hoangti and his wife were in the beautiful palace garden.
They walked up and down, up and down, talking of their people.
Suddenly the emperor said, "Look at those worms on the mulberry trees,
Si-ling. They seem to be spinning."
Si-ling looked, and sure enough, the worms were spinning. A long thread
was coming from the mouth of each, and each little worm was winding this
thread around its body.
Si-ling and the emperor stood still and watched the worms. "How
wonderful!" said Si-ling.
The next morning Hoangti and the empress walked under the trees again.
They found some worms still winding thread. Others had already spun
their cocoons and were fast asleep. In a few days all of the worms had
spun cocoons.
"This is indeed a wonderful, wonderful thing!" said Si-ling. "Why, each
worm has a thread on its body long enough to make a house for itself!"
Si-ling thought of this day after day. One morning as she and the
emperor walked under the trees, she said, "I believe I could find a way
to weave those long threads into cloth."
"But how could you unwind the threads?" asked the emperor.
[Illustration: Hoangti and Si-ling walking among the trees]
"I'll find a way," Si-ling said. And she did; but she had to try many,
many times.
She put the cocoons in a hot place, and the little sleepers soon died.
Then the cocoons were thrown into boiling water to make the threads
soft. After that the long threads could be easily unwound.
Now Si-ling had to think of something else; she had to find a way to
weave the threads into cloth. After many trials, she made a loom--the
first that was ever made. She taught others to weave, and soon hundreds
of people were making cloth from the threads of the silkworm.
The people ever afterward called Si-ling "The Goddess of the Silkworm."
And whenever the emperor walked with her in the garden, they liked to
watch the silkworms spinning threads for the good of their people.
THE FLAX
I
It was spring. The flax was in full bloom, and it had dainty little blue
flowers that nodded in the breeze.
"People say that I look very well," said the flax. "They say that I am
fine and long and that I shall make a beautiful piece of linen. How
happy I am! No one in the world can be happier."
"Oh, yes," said the fence post, "you may grow and be happy, and you may
sing, but you do not know the world as I do. Why, I have knots in me."
And it creaked;
"Snip, snap, snurre,
Basse, lurre,
The song is ended."
"No, it is not ended," said the flax. "The sun will shine, and the rain
will fall, and I shall grow and grow. No, no, the song is not ended."
One day some men came with sharp reap hooks. They took the flax by the
head and cut it off at the roots. This was very painful, you may be
sure.
Then the flax was laid in water and was nearly drowned. After that it
was put on a fire and nearly roasted. All this was frightful. But the
flax only said, "One cannot be happy always. By having bad times as well
as good, we become wise."
After the flax had been cut and steeped and roasted, it was put on a
spinning wheel. "Whir-r-r, whir-rr-r," went the spinning wheel; it went
so fast that the flax could hardly think.
"I have been very happy in the sunshine and the rain," it said. "If I am
in pain now, I must be contented."
At last the flax was put in the loom. Soon it became a beautiful piece
of white linen.
"This is very wonderful," said the flax. "How foolish the fence post was
with its song of--
'Snip, snap, snurre,
Basse, lurre,
The song is ended.'
The song is not ended, I am sure. It has only just begun.
"After all that I have suffered, I am at last made into beautiful linen.
How strong and fine I am, and how long and white! This is even better
than being a plant bearing flowers. I have never been happier than I am
now."
After some time the linen was cut into pieces and sewed with needles.
That was not pleasant; but at last there were twelve pretty white
aprons.
"See," said the flax, "I have been made into something. Now I shall be
of some use in the world. That is the only way to be happy."
II
Years passed by, and the linen was so worn that it could hardly hold
together.
"The end must come soon," said the flax.
At last the linen did fall into rags and tatters; it was torn into
shreds and boiled in water. The flax thought the end had come.
But no, the end was not yet. After being made into pulp and dried, the
flax became beautiful white paper.
"This is a surprise, a glorious surprise," it said. "I am finer than
ever, and I shall have fine things written on me. How happy I am!"
And sure enough, the most beautiful stories and verses were written upon
it. People read the stories and verses, and they were made wiser and
better. Their children and their children's children read them, too, and
so the song was not ended.
--HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.
[Illustration: Girl reading a book]
THE WONDERFUL WORLD
Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful World,
With the wonderful water round you curled,
And the wonderful grass upon your breast,
World, you are beautifully drest.
The wonderful air is over me,
And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree--
It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,
And talks to itself on the top of the hills.
You friendly Earth, how far do you go,
With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow,
With cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles,
And people upon you for thousands of miles?
Ah! you are so great, and I am so small,
I hardly can think of you, World, at all;
And yet, when I said my prayers to-day,
A whisper within me seemed to say,
"You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot!
You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!"
--William Brighty Rands.
[Illustration: The Hillman at the housewife's door]
THE HILLMAN AND THE HOUSEWIFE
As every one knows, fairies are always just. They are kind to others,
and in return they expect others to be kind to them. In some countries
across the sea there are fairies called Hillmen.
Now, there once lived a certain housewife who liked to make bargains.
She gave away only those things for which she had no use, and then
expected always to get something in return.
One day a Hillman knocked at her door.
"Can you lend us a saucepan?" he asked. "There's a wedding on the hill,
and all the pots are in use."
"Is he to have one?" whispered the servant who opened the door.
"Aye, to be sure," answered the housewife; "one must be neighborly. Get
the saucepan for him, lass."
The maid turned to take a good saucepan from the shelf, but the
housewife stopped her.
"Not that, not that," she whispered. "Get the old one out of the
cupboard. It leaks, but that doesn't matter. The Hillmen are so neat and
are such nimble workers that they are sure to mend it before they send
it home. I can oblige the fairies and save sixpence in tinkering, too."
The maid brought the old saucepan that had been laid by until the
tinker's next visit, and gave it to the Hillman. He thanked her and went
away.
When the saucepan was returned, it had been neatly mended, just as the
housewife thought it would be.
At night the maid filled the pan with milk and set it on the fire to
heat for the children's supper. In a few moments the milk was so smoked
and burnt that no one would touch it. Even the pigs refused to drink it.
"Ah, you good-for-nothing!" cried the housewife. "There's a quart of
milk wasted at once."
"And that's twopence," cried a queer little voice that seemed to come
from the chimney.
The housewife filled the saucepan again and set it over the fire. It had
not been there more than two minutes before it boiled over and was burnt
and smoked as before.
"The pan must be dirty," muttered the woman, who was very much vexed.
"Two full quarts of milk have been wasted."
"And that's fourpence!" added the queer little voice from the chimney.
The saucepan was scoured; then it was filled with milk the third time
and set over the fire. Again the milk boiled over and was spoiled.
Now the housewife was quite vexed. "I have never had anything like this
to happen since I first kept house," she exclaimed. "Three quarts of
milk wasted!"
"And that's sixpence," cried the queer little voice from the chimney.
"You didn't save the tinkering after all, mother!"
With that the Hillman himself came tumbling from the chimney and ran off
laughing. But from that time, the saucepan was as good as any other.
--JULIANA H. EWING.
[Illustration: The Hillman running off from the fire]
[Illustration: The Elf and the Dormouse under the toadstool]
THE ELF AND THE DORMOUSE
Under a toad stool
Crept a wee Elf,
Out of the rain
To shelter himself.
Under the toad stool
Sound asleep,
Sat a big Dormouse
All in a heap.
Trembled the wee Elf
Frightened, and yet
Fearing to fly away
Lest he get wet.
To the next shelter--
Maybe a mile!
Sudden the wee Elf
Smiled a wee smile;
Tugged till the toad stool
Toppled in two;
Holding it over him,
Gayly he flew.
Soon he was safe home,
Dry as could be.
Soon woke the Dormouse--
"Good gracious me!
"Where is my toad stool?"
Loud he lamented.
And that's how umbrellas
First were invented.
--OLIVER HERFORD.
[Illustration: The elf flying away with the toadstool as the Dormouse
watches]
THE BELL OF ATRI
I
Good King John of Atri loved his people very much and wished to see them
happy. He knew, however, that some were not; he knew that many suffered
wrongs which were not righted. This made him sad.
One day the king thought of a way to help his people. He had a great
bell hung in a tower in the market place. He had the rope made so long
that a child could reach it.
Then the king sent heralds through the streets to tell the people why he
had put the bell in the market place. The heralds blew their trumpets
long and loud, and the people came from their homes to hear the message.
"Know ye," cried a herald, "that whenever a wrong is done to any man, he
has but to ring the great bell in the square. A judge will go to the
tower to hear the complaint, and he will see that justice is done."
"Long live our good king!" shouted the people. "Now our wrongs shall be
righted."
And so it was. Whenever anyone was wronged, he rang the bell in the
tower. The judge put on his rich robes and went there. He listened to
the complaint, and the guilty were punished.
The people in Atri were now very happy, and the days went swiftly by.
The bell hung in its place year after year, and it was rung many times.
By and by the rope became so worn that one could scarcely reach it.
The king said, "Why, a child could not reach the rope now, and a wrong
might not be righted. I must put in a new one."
So he ordered a rope from a distant town. In those days it took a long
time to travel from one town to another. What should they do if somebody
wished to ring the bell before the new rope came?
"We must mend the rope in some way," said a man.
"Here," said another; "take this piece of grapevine and fasten it to the
rope. Then it will be long enough for any one to reach."
This was done, and for some time the bell was rung in that way.
II
One hot summer noon everything was very still. All the people were
indoors taking their noonday rest.
Suddenly they were awakened by the arousing bell:
Some one--hath done--a wrong,
Hath done--a wrong!
Hath done--a wrong!
The judge started from a deep sleep, turned on his couch, and listened.
Could it be the bell of justice?
Again the sound came:
Some one--hath done--a wrong!
Hath done--a wrong!
Hath done--a wrong!
It was the bell of justice. The judge put on his rich robes and,
panting, hurried to the market place.
There he saw a strange sight: a poor steed, starved and thin, tugging at
the vines which were fastened to the bell. A great crowd had gathered
around.
"Whose horse is this?" the judge asked.
"It is the horse of the rich soldier who lives in the castle," said a
man. "He has served his master long and well, and has saved his life
many times. Now that the horse is too old to work, the master turns him
out. He wanders through the lanes and fields, picking up such food as
can be found."
"His call for justice shall be heard," said the judge. "Bring the
soldier to me."
The soldier tried to treat the matter as a jest. Then he grew angry and
said in an undertone, "One can surely do what he pleases with his own."
[Illustration: The judge sees the horse in the market place]
"For shame!" cried the judge. "Has the horse not served you for many
years? And has he not saved your life? You must build a good shelter for
him, and give him the best grain and the best pasture. Take the horse
home and be as true to him as he has been to you."
The soldier hung his head in shame and led the horse away. The people
shouted and applauded.
"Great is King John," they cried, "and great the bell of Atri!"
--ITALIAN TALE.
A DUMB WITNESS
One day at noontime a poor man was riding along a road. He was tired and
hungry, and wished to stop and rest. Finding a tree with low branches,
he tied his horse to one of them. Then he sat down to eat his dinner.
Soon a rich man came along and started to tie his horse to the same
tree.
"Do not fasten your horse to that tree," cried the poor man. "My horse
is savage and he may kill yours. Fasten him to another tree."
"I shall tie my horse where I wish," the rich man replied; and he tied
his horse to the same tree. Then he, too, sat down to eat.
Very soon the men heard a great noise. They looked up and saw that their
horses were kicking and fighting. Both men rushed to stop them, but it
was too late; the rich man's horse was dead.
"See what your horse has done!" cried the rich man in an angry voice.
"But you shall pay for it! You shall pay for it!"
Then he dragged the man before a judge.
"Oh, wise judge," he cried, "I have come to you for justice. I had a
beautiful, kind, gentle horse which has been killed by this man's savage
horse. Make the man pay for the horse or send him to prison."
"Not so fast, my friend," the judge said. "There are two sides to every
case."
He turned to the poor man. "Did your horse kill this man's horse?" he
asked.
The poor man made no reply.
The judge asked in surprise, "Are you dumb? Can you not talk?"
But no word came from the poor man's lips.
Then the judge turned to the rich man.
"What more can I do?" he asked. "You see for yourself this poor man
cannot speak."
"Oh, but he can," cried the rich man. "He spoke to me."
"Indeed!" said the judge. "When?"
"He spoke to me when I tied my horse to the tree."
"What did he say?" asked the judge.
"He said, 'Do not fasten your horse to that tree. My horse is savage and
may kill yours.'"
"0 ho!" said the judge. "This poor man warned you that his horse was
savage, and you tied your horse near his after the warning. This puts a
new light on the matter. You are to blame, not he."
The judge turned to the poor man and said, "My man, why did you not
answer my questions?"
"Oh, wise judge," said the poor man, "if I had told you that I warned
him not to tie his horse near mine, he would have denied it. Then how
could you have told which one of us to believe? I let him tell his own
story, and you have learned the truth."
This speech pleased the judge. He praised the poor man for his wisdom,
and sent the rich man away without a penny.
--ARABIAN TALE.
[Illustration: Workers leaving a reaped field]
GIVING THANKS
For the hay and the corn and the wheat that is reaped,
For the labor well done, and the barns that are heaped,
For the sun and the dew and the sweet honeycomb,
For the rose and the song, and the harvest brought home--
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!
[Illustration: A house]
For the trade and the skill and the wealth in our land,
For the cunning and strength of the working-man's hand,
For the good that our artists and poets have taught,
For the friendship that hope and affection have brought--
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!
For the homes that with purest affection are blest,
For the season of plenty and well-deserved rest,
For our country extending from sea to sea,
The land that is known as "The Land of the Free"--
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!
THE HARE AND THE HEDGEHOG
I
PLACE: A farmer's cabbage field.
TIME: A fine morning in spring.
(The hedgehog is standing by his door looking at the cabbage field which
he thinks is his own.)
HEDGEHOG: Wife, have you dressed the children yet?
WIFE: Just through, my dear.
HEDGEHOG: Well, come out here and let us look at our cabbage patch.
(Wife comes out.)
HEDGEHOG: Fine crop, isn't it? We should be happy.
WIFE: The cabbage is fine enough, but I can't see why we should be so
happy.
[Illustration: The hare and the hedgehog with a cabbage]
HEDGEHOG: Why, my dear, there are tears in your voice. What is the
matter?
WIFE: I suppose I ought not to mind it, but those dreadful hares nearly
worry the life out of me.
HEDGEHOG: What are they doing now?
WIFE: Doing? What are they not doing? Why, yesterday I brought my pretty
babies out here to get some cabbage leaves. We were eating as
well-behaved hedgehogs always eat, and those horrid hares almost made us
cry.
HEDGEHOG: What did they do?
WIFE: They came to our cabbage patch and they giggled and said, "Oh, see
the little duck-legged things! Aren't they funny?" Then one jumped over
a cabbage just to hurt our feelings.
HEDGEHOG: Well, they are mean, I know, but we won't notice them. I'll
get even with them one of these days. Ah, there comes one of them now.
WIFE: Yes, and he laughed at me yesterday. He said, "Good-morning, Madam
Shortlegs." I won't speak to him. I'll hide till he goes by.
(Wife hides behind a cabbage.)
HEDGEHOG: Good-morning, sir.
HARE: Are you speaking to me?
HEDGEHOG: Certainly; do you see any one else around?
HARE: How dare you speak to me?
HEDGEHOG: Oh, just to be neighborly.
HARE: I shall ask you not to speak to me hereafter. I think myself too
good to notice hedgehogs.
HEDGEHOG: Now, that is strange.
HARE: What is strange?
HEDGEHOG: Why, I have just said to my wife that we wouldn't notice you.
HARE: Wouldn't notice me, indeed, you silly, short-legged, duck-legged
thing!
HEDGEHOG: Well, my legs are quite as good as yours, sir.
HARE: As good as mine! Who ever heard of such a thing? Why, you can do
little more than crawl.
HEDGEHOG: That may be as you say, but I'll run a race with you any day.
HARE: Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! A race with a hedgehog! Well, well, well!
HEDGEHOG: Are you afraid to run with me?
HARE: Of course not. It will be no race at all, but I'll run just to
show you how silly you are.
HEDGEHOG: Good! You run in that furrow; I will run in this. We shall see
who gets to the fence first. Let's start from the far end of the furrow.
HARE: I will run to the brook and back while you are getting there. Go
ahead.
HEDGEHOG: I wouldn't stay too long if I were you.
HARE: Oh, I'll be back before you reach the end of the furrow.
(The hare runs off to the brook.)
II
HEDGEHOG: Wife, wife, did you hear what I said to the hare?
WIFE: Did I hear? I should say I did. What are you thinking of? Have you
lost your senses?
HEDGEHOG: You shouldn't speak that way to me. What do you know about a
man's business? Come here and let me whisper something to you.
(He whispers and then walks to far end of the furrow. His wife laughs.)
WIFE: Ha, ha! I see. I see. Nothing wrong with your brains.
"Short legs, long wit,
Long legs, not a bit,"
as my grandmother used to say. The hare will find that out today.
(She stoops down in the near end of the furrow. The hare returns and
takes his place.)
HARE: Well, are you ready?
HEDGEHOG: Of course I am,--ready and waiting.
HARE: One for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to make ready,
And here we go!
(The hare runs as swiftly as the wind. The hedgehog starts with him, but
stops and stoops low in the furrow. When the hare reaches the other end,
the hedgehog's wife puts up her head.)
WIFE: Well, here I am.
HARE: What does this mean?
WIFE: It means what it means.
HARE: We'll try again. Are you ready?
WIFE: Of course I am.
HARE: One for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to make ready,
And here we go!
(The hare runs swiftly back again. Wife starts, but stops and stoops
low. The hare reaches the other end. The hedgehog puts up his head.)
HEDGEHOG: Here I am.
HARE: I can't understand this.
HEDGEHOG: It is very clear to me.
HARE: Well, we'll try again. Are you ready?
HEDGEHOG: I'm always ready.
HARE: One for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to make ready,
And here we go!
(Again the wife puts up her head and the hare is bewildered.)
[Illustration: The hare racing as the hedhog looks on]
WIFE: You see I am here.
HARE: I just can't believe it.
WIFE: A perfectly simple thing.
HARE: We'll try once more. You can't beat me another time.
WIFE: Don't boast. You had better save your breath for the race; you
will need it.
HARE: One for the money,
Two for the show,
Three to make ready,
And here we go!
(When the hare reaches the other end of the field, the hedgehog puts up
his head.)
HARE: This is very strange.
HEDGEHOG: Shall we run again? You seem a little tired, but I am
perfectly fresh.
HARE (_panting_): No, no! The race is yours.
HEDGEHOG: Will you call my wife and children names any more?
HARE: No, no! I'll never do that again.
HEDGEHOG: Very well. And if you wish a race at any time, friend hare,
just call by for me.
HARE (_walking off shaking his head_): It's very strange. I hope none of
the other hares will hear of this race.
WIFE (_as she meets the hedgehog_): I thought I should hurt myself
laughing. As my grandmother used to say,
"Short legs, long wit,
Long legs, not a bit."
--GRIMM.
EPAMINONDAS
Epaminondas had a good kind granny, who cooked at "the big house."
Epaminondas liked to go to see her, for she always gave him something to
take home with him.
One day when Epaminondas went to see granny, she was baking a cake, and
she gave Epaminondas a piece to eat. As he was leaving, granny said,
"Epaminondas, you may take a slice home to your mammy."
Epaminondas took it in his little hands and squeezing it just as tight
as he could, ran all the way home. When his mammy saw him, she said,
"What's that, Epaminondas?"
"Cake, mammy. Granny sent it to you."
"Cake!" cried his mammy. "Epaminondas, don't you know that's no way to
carry cake? When your granny gives you cake, put it in your hat; then
put your hat on your head and come home. You hear me, Epaminondas?"
"Yes, mammy."
The next time Epaminondas went to see his granny, she was churning, and
she gave him a pat of fresh butter to carry to his mammy.
Epaminondas said to himself, "What was it mammy said? Oh, yes! I know.
She said, 'Put it in your hat and put the hat on your head and come
home.' I'll do just what she told me."
Epaminondas put the pat of butter in his hat, put his hat on his head,
and went home.
It was a hot day, and soon the butter began to melt. Drip, drip, drip,
it went into his ears. Drip, drip, drip, it went into his eyes. Drip,
drip, drip, it went down his back. When Epaminondas reached home, he had
no butter in his hat. It was all on him.
Looking at him hard, his mammy said, "Epaminondas, what in the world is
that dripping from your hat?"
"Butter, mammy. Granny sent it to you."
"Butter!" cried his mammy. "Oh, Epaminondas! Don't you know how to carry
butter? You must wrap it in a cabbage leaf, and take it to the spring.
Then you must cool it in the water, and cool it in the water, and cool
it in the water. When you have done this, take the butter in your hands
and come home. You hear me, Epaminondas?"
"Yes, mammy."
The next time Epaminondas went to see his granny, she wasn't baking cake
and she wasn't churning. She was sitting in a chair knitting.
She said, "Epaminondas, look in the woodshed, and you'll see something
you like."
Epaminondas looked in the woodshed, and there he found four little
puppies. He played with them all the afternoon, and when he started
home, his granny gave him one.
Epaminondas remembered what his mammy had told him. He wrapped the puppy
in a big cabbage leaf, and took it to the spring. He cooled it in the
water, and cooled it in the water, and cooled it in the water. Then he
took it in his hands, and went home.
When his mammy saw him, she said, "Epaminondas, what is that in your
hands?"
"A puppy dog, mammy."
"A puppy dog!" cried his mammy. "Oh, Epaminondas! What makes you act so
foolish? That's no way to carry a puppy. The way to carry a puppy is to
tie a string around his neck and put him on the ground. Then you take
the other end of the string in your hand and come along home. You hear
me, Epaminondas?"
"Yes, mammy."
Epaminondas was going to be right the next time; he got a piece of
string and put it in his pocket to have it ready.
The next day company came to see Epaminondas's mammy, and she had no
bread for dinner. She called Epaminondas and said, "Run to 'the big
house' and ask your granny to send me a loaf of bread for dinner."
"Yes, mammy," said Epaminondas. And off he ran.
Granny gave him a loaf just from the oven--a nice, brown, crusty loaf.
This time Epaminondas was certainly going to do what mammy had told him.
He proudly got out his string and tied it to the loaf. Then he put the
loaf on the ground, and taking the other end of the string in his hand,
he went along home.
When he reached home, his mammy gave one look at the thing tied to the
end of the string.
"What have you brought, Epaminondas?" she cried.
"Bread, mammy. Granny sent it to you."
"Oh, Epaminondas! Epaminondas! How could you be so foolish?" cried his
mammy. "Now I have no bread for dinner. I'll have to go and get some
myself."
She went into the house and got her bonnet. When she came out, she said,
"Epaminondas, do you see those three mince pies I've put on the doorstep
to cool. Well, now, you hear me, Epaminondas. You be careful how you
step on those pies!"
"Yes, mammy."
His mammy went off down the road; Epaminondas went to the door and
looked out. "Mammy told me to be careful how I step on those mince
pies," he said, "so I must be careful how I do it. I'll step right in
the middle of every one."
And he did!
When his mammy came home, there were no pies for dinner.
Now she was angry all over, and something happened. I don't know, and
you don't know, but we can guess.
Poor Epaminondas!--SOUTHERN TALE.
[Illustration: Epaminondas stepping in the pies]
HOW BROTHER RABBIT FOOLED THE WHALE AND THE ELEPHANT
I
One day Brother Rabbit was running along on the sand, lippety, lippety,
lippety. He was going to a fine cabbage field. On the way he saw the
whale and the elephant talking together.
Brother Rabbit said, "I'd like to know what they are talking about." So
he crouched down behind some bushes and listened.
This is what Brother Rabbit heard the whale say:
"You are the biggest thing on the land, Brother Elephant, and I am the
biggest thing in the sea. If we work together, we can rule all the
animals in the world. We can have our own way about everything."
"Very good, very good," trumpeted the elephant. "That suits me. You keep
the sea, and I will keep the land."
[Illustration: Brother Rabbit listening]
"That's a bargain," said the whale, as he swam away.
Brother Rabbit laughed to himself. "They won't rule me," he said, as he
ran off.
Brother Rabbit soon came back with a very long and a very strong rope
and his big drum. He hid the drum in some bushes. Then taking one end of
the rope, he walked up to the elephant.
"Oh, dear Mr. Elephant," he said, "you are big and strong; will you have
the kindness to do me a favor?"
The elephant was pleased, and he trumpeted, "Certainly, certainly. What
is it?"
"My cow is stuck in the mud on the shore, and I can't pull her out,"
said Brother Rabbit. "If you will help me, you will do me a great
service. You are so strong, I am sure you can get her out."
"Certainly, certainly," trumpeted the elephant.
"Thank you," said the rabbit. "Take this rope in your trunk, and I will
tie the other end to my cow. Then I will beat my drum to let you know
when to pull. You must pull as hard as you can, for the cow is very
heavy."
"Huh!" trumpeted the elephant, "I'll pull her out, or break the rope."
Brother Rabbit tied the rope to the elephant's trunk and ran off,
lippety, lippety.
II
He ran till he came to the shore where the whale was. Making a bow,
Brother Rabbit said, "0, mighty and wonderful Whale, will you do me a
favor?"
"What is it?" asked the whale.
"My cow is stuck in the mud on the shore," said Brother Rabbit, "and I
cannot pull her out. Of course you can do it. If you will be so kind as
to help me, I shall be very much obliged."
"Certainly," said the whale, "certainly."
"Thank you," said Brother Rabbit, "take hold of this rope, and I will
tie the other end to my cow. Then I will beat my big drum to let you
know when to pull. You must pull as hard as you can, for my cow is very
heavy."
"Never fear," said the whale, "I could pull a dozen cows out of the
mud."
"I am sure you could," said the rabbit politely. "Only be sure to begin
gently. Then pull harder and harder till you get her out."
The rabbit ran away into the bushes where he had hidden the drum and
began to beat it. Then the whale began to pull and the elephant began to
pull. In a minute the rope tightened till it was stretched as hard as a
bar of iron.
"This is a very heavy cow," said the elephant, "but I'll pull her out."
Bracing his fore feet in the earth, he gave a tremendous pull.
But the whale had no way to brace himself.
"Dear me," he said. "That cow must surely be stuck tight." Lashing his
tail in the water, he gave a marvelous pull.
He pulled harder; the elephant pulled harder. Soon the whale found
himself sliding toward the land. He was so provoked with the cow that he
went head first, down to the bottom of the sea.
That was a pull! The elephant was jerked off his feet, and came slipping
and sliding toward the sea. He was very angry.
"That cow must be very strong to drag me in this way," he said. "I will
brace myself."
Kneeling down on the ground, he twisted the rope around his trunk. Then
he began to pull his very best, and soon the whale came up out of the
water.
Then each saw that the other had hold of the rope.
"How is this?" cried the whale. "I thought I was pulling Brother
Rabbit's cow."
"That is what I thought," said the elephant. "Brother Rabbit is making
fun of us. He must pay for this. I forbid him to eat a blade of grass on
land, because he played a trick on us."
"And I will not allow him to drink a drop of water in the sea," said the
whale.
But Little Rabbit sat in the bushes and laughed, and laughed, and
laughed.
"Much do I care," he said. "I can get all the green things I want, and I
don't like salt water."
--SOUTHERN FOLK TALE.
[Illustration: A mother with children in winter]
A CHRISTMAS WISH
I'd like a stocking made for a giant,
And a meeting house full of toys;
Then I'd go out on a happy hunt
For the poor little girls and boys;
Up the street and down the street,
And across and over the town,
I'd search and find them every one,
Before the sun went down.
One would want a new jack-knife
Sharp enough to cut;
One would long for a doll with hair,
And eyes that open and shut;
One would ask for a china set
With dishes all to her mind;
One would wish a Noah's ark
With beasts of every kind.
Some would like a doll cook-stove
And a little toy wash tub;
Some would prefer a little drum,
For a noisy rub-a-dub;
Some would wish for a story book,
And some for a set of blocks;
Some would be wild with happiness
Over a new tool-box.
And some would rather have little shoes,
And other things warm to wear,
For many children are very poor,
And the winter is hard to bear;
I'd buy soft flannels for little frocks,
And a thousand stockings or so,
And the jolliest little coats and cloaks,
To keep out the frost and snow.
[Illustration: Christmas toys]
I'd load a wagon with caramels
And candy of every kind,
And buy all the almond and pecan nuts
And taffy that I could find;
And barrels and barrels of oranges
I'd scatter right in the way,
So the children would find them the very first thing,
When they wake on Christmas day.
--EUGENE FIELD.
[Illustration: The church tower]
THE CHRISTMAS BELLS
I
Long, long ago, in a far away city, there was a large church. The tower
of this church was so high that it seamed to touch the clouds, and in
the high tower there were three wonderful bells. When they rang, they
made sweet music.
There was something strange about these bells. They were never heard to
ring except on Christmas eve, and no one knew who rang them. Some people
thought it was the wind blowing through the tower. Others thought the
angels rang them when a gift pleased the Christ Child.
Although the people did not know what rang the bells, they loved to hear
them. They would come from miles around to listen to the wonderful
music. When they had heard the bells, they would go out of the church,
silent but happy. Then all would go back to their homes feeling that
Christmas had come, indeed.
One Christmas eve the people in the church waited and waited, but the
bells did not ring. Silently and sadly they went home. Christmas after
Christmas came and went. Nearly one hundred years passed by, and in all
that time the bells did not ring.
People sometimes asked one another, "Do you suppose the bells ever did
ring?"
"Yes," said one very old man. "I have often heard my father tell how
beautifully they rang on Christmas eve. There was more love in the world
then."
Every Christmas eve the church was filled with people who waited and
listened. They hoped that the bells would ring again as they had rung
long ago. Though many gifts were laid on the altar, still the bells did
not ring.
II
Christmas was near at hand again, and every one was happy.
Not far from the city two little brothers lived on a farm--Pedro and
Little Brother.
Their father was poor and had no gift to lay on the altar. But Pedro had
saved all his earnings, and he had one shining silver piece. His father
had promised the little boys that they might go to the church on
Christmas eve and take the gift.
It was quite dark when the lads started on their way to the city. The
snow was falling fast, but they buttoned their little jackets close
about them and walked along briskly. They were not far from the church
when they heard a low whine of distress. Little Brother, clinging to
Pedro in fear, cried, "What is it, Pedro, what is it?"
Pedro ran across the street, and there under a small heap of snow, what
do you think he found? A little black and white dog, shivering with
cold, and nearly starved. Pedro opened his jacket, and put the dog
inside to keep it warm.
"You will have to go to the church alone, Little Brother," Pedro said.
"I must take this little dog back to the farm, and give it food, else it
will die."
"But I don't want to go alone, Pedro," said Little Brother.
"Won't you please go and put my gift on the altar, Little Brother? I
wish so much to have it there to-night."
"Yes, Pedro, I will," said Little Brother.
He took the gift and started toward the church. Pedro turned and went
home.
When Little Brother came to the great stone church and looked up at the
high tower, he felt that he could not go in alone. He stood outside a
long time watching the people as they passed in. At last he entered
quietly and took a seat in a corner.
III
When Little Brother went into the church, all the people were seated.
They sat quietly hoping that at last the bells would ring again as in
the days of old.
The organ pealed out a Christmas hymn. The choir and the people arose,
and all sang the grand old anthem. Then a solemn voice said, "Bring now
your gifts to the altar."
The king arose and went forward with stately tread. Bowing before the
altar, he laid upon it his golden crown. Then he walked proudly back to
his seat. All the people listened, but the bells did not ring.
Then the queen arose and with haughty step walked to the front. She took
from her neck and wrists her beautiful jewels and laid them upon the
altar. All the people listened, but the bells did not ring.
Then the soldiers came marching proudly forward. They took their jeweled
swords from their belts and laid them upon the altar. All the people
listened, but the bells did not ring.
Then the rich men came hurrying forward. They counted great sums of gold
and laid them in a businesslike way upon the altar. All the people
listened, but the bells did not ring.
"Can I go all alone to the front of the church and lay this small gift
on the altar?" said Little Brother. "Oh, how can I? how can I?"
Then he said, "But I told Pedro I would, and I must."
So he slipped slowly around by the outer aisle. He crept quietly up to
the altar and softly laid the silver piece upon the very edge.
And listen! What do you think was heard? The bells, the bells!
Oh, how happy the people were! And how happy Little Brother was! He ran
out of the church and down the road toward the farm.
Pedro had warmed the dog and fed it, and was now on the way to the city.
He hoped that he might see the people come out of the church.
Down the road Little Brother came running. Throwing himself into Pedro's
arms, he cried, "Oh, Pedro, Pedro! The bells, the bells! I wish you
could have heard them; and they rang when I laid your gift on the
altar."
"I did hear them, Little Brother," said Pedro. "Their sound came to me
over the snow,--the sweetest music I ever heard."
Long years after, when Pedro grew to be a man, he was a great musician.
Many, many people came to hear him play.
Some one said to him one day, "How can you play so sweetly? I never
heard such music before."
"Ah," said Pedro, "but you never heard the Christmas bells as I heard
them that Christmas night years and years ago."
--OLD TALE RETOLD.
[Illustration: Family at prayer at the table]
GOD BLESS THE MASTER OF THIS HOUSE
God bless the master of this house,
The mistress, also,
And all the little children
That round the table go:
And all your kin and kinsfolk,
That dwell both far and near;
I wish you a merry Christmas
And a happy new year.
--OLD ENGLISH RIME.
SQUEAKY AND THE SCARE BOX
I
Once upon a time a family of mice lived in the pantry wall. There was a
father mouse, there was a mother mouse, and there were three little baby
mice.
One little mouse had sharp bright eyes and could see everything, even in
the darkest holes. He was called Sharpeyes. His brother could sniff and
smell anything, wherever it might be hidden, and he was called Sniffy.
The baby mouse had such a squeaky little voice that he was called
Squeaky. He was always singing, "Ee-ee-ee!"
Mother mouse was very wise, and she had taught her babies to run and
hide when they saw the old cat coming. She had also taught them not to
go near a trap. The little mice obeyed their mother, and they were happy
in their home in the pantry wall.
They had many good times together. I could not tell you about all of
these, but I am going to tell you about their Christmas party and what
happened to Squeaky.
It was the night before Christmas. The stockings hung by the chimney,
and the tall tree was standing in the parlor. The children were asleep,
and the father and mother had gone upstairs to bed.
In the pantry wall, the little mice were all wide-awake.
"Ee-ee-ee!" squeaked Squeaky; "why can't we creep into the big room and
see the tall Christmas tree? The children have talked about it for days,
and we have never seen one. Mother, please let us go and see it."
"Yes," said Sniffy, "do let us go. Everything smells so good. The
children and the cook made long strings of pop corn to-day. I found a
little on the pantry floor, and I want some more."
"I peeped out of our hole," said Sharpeyes, "and I saw cake and candy
all ready for the children. Oh, I do want a bite of those good things!
Please let us have a Christmas party."
"Well," said mother mouse, "I will ask your father. If he says it is
safe, we will go."
When mother mouse asked father mouse, he said, "I will go out first and
look all about. If it is safe, I will come back for you."
So father mouse crept softly through the pantry, down the long hall, and
into the parlor. The cat was nowhere to be seen. Father mouse ran back
to the pantry and cried, "The cat is not near; come and see the tree."
II
Then all the mice came scampering from the hole in the wall. They crept
through the pantry, down the long hall, and into the parlor. When they
saw the tall Christmas tree, they squeaked again and again in their joy.
Then they ran around and around the tree to see what was on it.
[Illustration: The mice look at the Christmas tree]
On the floor they saw a wonderful doll's house. "How fine it would be to
live there!" they squeaked.
They ran up and down the stairs, sat on the chairs, and lay down in the
beds. Oh, they had a merry time!
Then Sniffy said, "I smell that good pop corn again. Let's climb up into
the Christmas tree and get some."
They climbed up into the tree. They nibbled the pop corn; they nibbled
the candy; they nibbled the nuts; and they nibbled the cakes.
Soon Sharpeyes cried out, "Come here, I see a mouse! I see a mouse! But
he doesn't look like our family at all."
"I should say not," sniffed Sniffy; "and how good he smells!"
"Why, he is good to eat!" squeaked Squeaky; and they all began to eat
the chocolate mouse.
Then they found another candy mouse--a pretty pink one. They were so
busy eating it that they forgot to watch and listen; then--bang! The
door was opened, and the lights were turned on.
With a squeak, the mice scampered down from the tree; then they ran
along the hall, through the pantry, and back to their home. There was
the father mouse, and the mother mouse, and Sharpeyes, and Sniffy. But
where was Squeaky?
III
Now, as Squeaky tried to run down the tree, he fell heels over head.
Down, down, down, he fell until he was caught in a funny box. An ugly
man with black hair and black whiskers seemed to be hopping out of the
box.
When Squeaky saw the lights turned on, he hid under the dress of this
queer man. He lay very, very still, for he had been taught to be still
when danger was near. He heard voices. The father and mother had come
back.
"Yes," the father was saying; "it would have been a shame to forget this
train. I would like it to come right out from under the tree. Help me
put the track down, mother."
When the train was just where it should be, the mother turned to the
beautiful tree.
"Why, look at that Jack-in-the-box," she said. "The man is hanging out.
That will never do. I will shut the box. Teddy must see the man jump
out."
The mother pushed the man with the black hair down, down, into the box
and shut the lid. Poor Squeaky felt the springs close down on him and
squeaked, "Ee-ee-"
"That was a fine squeak," said the father. "The toys are wonderful these
days."
"Yes," said the mother, as she turned off the light. "When I was a
child, we did not have such toys."
"I am in a trap," said poor Squeaky, "but there isn't even a bit of
cheese in it. I wonder what kind of trap it is; nothing seems to hurt
me. Well, I am safe for a while, and I hope I shall soon get out."
Squeaky lay in the box all night, and wondered what Sniffy and Sharpeyes
were doing. The next morning, he heard children calling, "Merry
Christmas! Merry Christmas!" And soon the toys were taken down, one by
one. Then such a noise was heard--drums beating, horns tooting, children
shouting. You should have heard it.
[Illustration: The mother is surprised as Squeaky escapes]
"See our new doll's house!" cried one child.
"See my new train! How fast it goes!" cried another.
"And see my beautiful dolly!" cried another. "She can open and shut her
eyes."
By and by the mother took the box from the tree. "Come here, Teddy," she
said. "Here is a scare box. We will have some fun. Watch me open the
lid."
Teddy stood by his mother and watched closely.
"Are you ready?" asked his mother. "Well, let us count. One, two,
three!"
The lid flew open, and out jumped the man with the black hair and black
whiskers. And with a squeak of joy, out jumped the mouse.
"Ee-ee-ee!" he cried, as he ran away.
"Ee!" said the Jack-in-the-box.
"Whee-ee-ee!" cried the boy with delight.
"Oh,--a mouse! a mouse!" cried the mother. Then she threw the box on the
floor and jumped up on her chair.
"Where? where?" cried all the children.
But they saw only the tip of Squeaky's tail as he ran across the hall to
the pantry. Another moment and he was safe in the hole in the pantry
wall.
The children's father laughed as he helped their mother climb down from
the chair.
"Well," he said, "how did _you_ enjoy Teddy's scare box?"
--GEORGENE FAULKNER.
THE GLAD NEW YEAR
It's coming, boys,
It's almost here.
It's coming, girls,
The grand New Year.
A year to be glad in,
Not to be sad in;
A year to live in,
To gain and give in.
A year for trying,
And not for sighing;
A year for striving
And healthy thriving.
It's coming, boys,
It's almost here.
It's coming, girls,
The grand New Year.
--MARY MAPES DODGE.
[Illustration: The goose and the hen]
MAKING THE BEST OF IT
"What a dreary day it is!" grumbled the old gray goose to the brown hen.
They were standing at the henhouse window watching the falling snow
which covered every nook and corner of the farmyard.
"Yes, indeed," said the brown hen. "I should almost be willing to be
made into a chicken pie on such a day."
She had scarcely stopped talking when Pekin duck said fretfully, "I am
so hungry that I am almost starved."
A little flock of chickens all huddled together wailed in sad tones,
"And we are so thirsty!"
In fact, all the feathered folk in the henhouse seemed cross and
fretful. It is no wonder they felt that way, for they had had nothing to
eat or drink since early in the morning. The cold wind howled around
their house. Hour after hour went by, but no one came near the henhouse.
The handsome white rooster, however, seemed as happy as usual. That is
saying a great deal, for a jollier old fellow than he never lived in a
farmyard. Sunshine, rain, or snow were all the same to him, and he
crowed quite as merrily in stormy weather as in fair.
"Well," he said, laughing, as he looked about the henhouse, "you all
seem to be having a fit of dumps."
Nobody answered the white rooster, but a faint cluck or two came from
some of the hens. They immediately put their heads back under their
wings, however, as if ashamed of having spoken at all.
This was too much for the white rooster. He stood first on one yellow
foot and then on the other. Turning his head from side to side, he said,
"What's the use of looking so sad? Any one would think that you expected
to be eaten by a band of hungry foxes."
Just then a brave little white bantam rooster hopped down from his
perch. He strutted over to the big rooster and caused quite a flutter in
the henhouse by saying:
"We're lively enough when our crops are full, but when we are starving,
it is a wonder that we can hold our heads up at all. If I ever see that
farmer's boy again, I'll--I'll--I'll peck his foot!"
"You won't see him until he feeds us," said the white rooster, "and then
I guess you will peck his corn."
"Oh, oh!" moaned the brown hen. "Don't speak of a peck of corn."
"Madam," said the white rooster, bowing very low, "your trouble is my
own,--that is, I'm hungry, too. But we might be worse off. We might be
in a box on our way to market. It is true that we haven't had anything
to eat to-day, but we at least have room enough to stretch our wings."
"Why, that is a fact," clucked the brown hen. And all the feathered
family--even the smallest chickens--stretched their wings, and looked a
little more cheerful.
"Now, then," went on the rooster, "suppose we have a little music to
cheer us and help pass the hours until roosting time. Let us all crow.
There, I beg your pardon, ladies; I am sorry you can't crow. Let us sing
a happy song. Will you be kind enough to start a merry tune, Mrs. Brown
Hen?"
The brown hen shook herself proudly, tossed her head back and
began,--"Ca-ca-ca-ca-ca-ca!" In less than two minutes every one in the
henhouse had joined her. The white rooster was the loudest of all, and
the little bantam rooster stretched his neck and did the best he could.
Now, the horses, cows, and sheep were not far away. They heard the happy
voices, and they, too, joined in the grand chorus. The pigs did their
best to sing louder than all the rest.
Higher and higher, stronger and stronger, rose the chorus. Louder and
louder quacked the ducks. Shriller and shriller squealed the pigs.
They were all so happy that they quite forgot their hunger until the
door of the henhouse burst open, and in came three chubby children. Each
was carrying a dish of hot chicken food.
"Don't stop your music, Mr. Rooster," said the little girl, who was
bundled up until you could scarcely see her dear little face.
[Illustration: The children arrive with food]
"You see, we were so lonesome that we didn't know what to do. We heard
you folk singing out here, and we laughed and laughed until we almost
cried. Then we went to tell Jack about you. He was lonesome, too, for
he's sick with a sore throat, you know. He said, 'Why, those poor hens!
They haven't been fed since morning! Go and feed them.' And so we came."
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" said the white rooster. "This comes of making the
best of things. Cock-a-doodle-doo!" And nobody asked him to stop
crowing.
--FRANCES M. FOX.
THE ANIMALS AND THE MIRROR
I
Aunt Susan sent an old-fashioned looking-glass to the barn to be stored
in the loft, with other old furniture. The farm boy stood it on the
floor of the barn until he should have time to put it away. The mirror
was broad and long, and it was set in a dark wooden frame.
An old duck wandered into the barn and caught sight of herself in the
mirror. "There is another duck," she said. "I wonder who she is."
And she walked toward the reflection. "She is rather friendly," the duck
went on. "She is walking toward me. What large feet she has, but her
feathers are very handsome."
Just then she bumped into the mirror. "Goodness!" she cried; "if that
duck isn't in a glass case! Why are you in there?"
"Well, you needn't answer if you don't want to," she said, walking away.
"A glass case is a good place for you."
Just then a pig came along, and nosing around, he came in front of the
mirror.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, thinking he saw another pig. His
nose hit the glass, and he stepped back.
"So you are in a glass pen," he said. "You are not very handsome, and
your nose is not so long as mine; I cannot see why you should have a
glass pen."
And away he trotted to tell the other pigs about the very plain-looking
pig.
Kitty came along next and walked in front of the mirror, turning her
head and swinging her tail. She had seen a mirror before and knew what
it was. The cat wished to look in the mirror, but she saw the dog coming
in the door, and she did not want him to think her vain.
The dog walked over to the mirror and gazed in it. Then he looked
foolish, although he had seen a mirror before, too, but not so often as
puss.
"Thought it was another dog, didn't you?" she laughed. "Here comes the
donkey. Let us hide behind those barrels and see what he does."
II
The donkey went up to the mirror.
"If they haven't another donkey!" he said. "I suppose I should speak
first, as I have lived here so long. Why, he is coming to meet me. That
is friendly, indeed."
Bump! his nose hit the glass.
"Well, I had better give up!" he said. "You are in a glass case, but I
don't know why you should be. You are a homely creature, and your ears
are not so long as mine." And he walked off with a disgusted air.
The cat rolled over and over, and the dog buried his head in his paws.
"Did you ever see anything so funny?" he said to puss.
"Hush!" she replied, "Here is the rooster."
[Illustration: The rooster and the mirror]
The rooster stopped quite still when he saw himself in the mirror.
"Well, where did you come from?" he asked, ruffling up his feathers. He
walked straight to the mirror and flew at the other rooster. Bang! He
went against the glass.
"In a glass case, are you?" he said. He stretched out his neck and
looked very fierce. "You should be; you are a sight--your feathers are
ruffled, and you are not half so handsome as I am."
And off he walked, satisfied that he was handsomer than the other
rooster.
"Oh, dear!" laughed the cat. "I certainly shall scream. They all think
they are handsomer than their reflections. Here comes the turkey
gobbler. Let us see what he does."
The gobbler walked slowly over to the mirror and looked at his
reflection.
"Now," he asked, "where in the world did they get you? You are an old,
bald-headed creature, and your feathers need oiling. You look like a
last year's turkey." And off he strutted.
The cat and the dog leaned against the barrels and laughed until the
tears ran down their faces.
"Keep still," said the dog. "Here comes speckled hen and her chickens."
Speckled hen walked around, picking up bits of corn. Suddenly she looked
up and saw the mirror.
"There is a hen with a brood of chicks, but they are not so handsome as
mine," she said, walking toward the looking-glass. "Where do you live? I
know you do not belong here." And she looked closer at the other hen.
Click! Her bill hit the glass.
"Well, if she isn't in a glass coop!" the hen said, stepping back. "If
master has bought her and those chicks, there will be trouble. Mercy!
One of the chicks is bow-legged, and they are a skinny looking lot."
Then she clucked to her chicks and walked out of the barn.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" laughed the dog; "they all think the same. They
certainly are a conceited lot. Here comes the goose."
III
The goose waddled over to the mirror.
"Well, well! If there isn't a new goose!" she said, "and she is walking
toward me. I must be friendly."
Snap! Her bill struck the mirror.
"Oh, you are in a glass box!" she said. "Have you come to stay?" And she
stretched out her neck.
"My, but you have a long neck!" she went on, "and your feathers are nice
and smooth. I suppose you cannot hear in that box."
Then she walked away, nodding good-by. The other goose, of course,
nodded also, and goosey went away satisfied.
"She is not so much of a goose as the others," the cat remarked.
"The peacock is coming," said the dog. "Keep quiet."
In walked the peacock. Seeing another bird, as he supposed, he spread
his beautiful tail to its full width. He walked about, but never a word
did he say.
"Now, what do you make out of that?" asked the dog. "Did he know that he
was looking in a looking-glass, or wouldn't he speak to another bird?"
"I do not know," said the cat, "but here comes the goat. Hide, quick!"
Billy was clattering over the boards, when suddenly he saw the other
goat. He looked at him a minute. "I'll show him," he said, running at
the mirror with head down.
[Illustration: The goat crashes into the mirror]
Bang! Smash! Crash! and Billy jumped back, a very much astonished goat.
"Now you have done it," said the horse, who had been watching all the
time from his stall. "All the animals will get out and run away."
"What are you talking about?" said the dog, who was laughing so hard he
could scarcely talk. "There are no animals in there. That is a
looking-glass; you see yourself when you are in front of it."
"Do you mean to tell me that those animals have all been looking at
themselves and finding fault with their own looks?" asked the horse,
with his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
"Of course," said the cat. "Can't you see that Billy has smashed the
looking-glass?"
"Well, that is the best I ever heard," said the horse, laughing, "but I
wish I had known that was a looking-glass before Billy broke it. I
should very much like to know how I look."
"You might not have recognized yourself; the others didn't," said the
dog.
--F.A. WALKER.
THE BARBER OF BAGDAD
ACT I
PLACE: Ali's barber shop.
TIME: Morning.
WOODCUTTER: I have a load of wood which I have just brought in on my
donkey. Would you like to buy it, good barber?
ALI: Well, let me see. Is it good wood?
WOODCUTTER: The best in the country.
ALI: I'll give you five shekels for all the wood upon the donkey.
WOODCUTTER: Agreed. I'll put the wood here by your door.
(Lays wood at door.)
Now, good sir, give me the silver.
ALI: Not so fast, my good friend. I must have your wooden pack saddle,
too. That was the bargain. I said, "All the wood upon your donkey."
Truly, the saddle is wood.
[Illustration: Ali and the woodcutter with the donkey]
WOODCUTTER: Who ever heard of such a bargain? Surely you cannot mean
what you say? You would not treat a poor woodcutter so. It is
impossible.
ALI: Give me the saddle, or I'll have you put in prison. And take
that--and that--and that!
(Ali strikes the woodcutter.)
WOODCUTTER: Ah, me, what shall I do? What shall I do? I know. I'll go to
the caliph himself.