_THE SUMMERS READERS_
SECOND READER
BY
MAUD SUMMERS
ILLUSTRATED FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS BY
LUCY FITCH PERKINS
AND
MARION L. MAHONY
[Illustration]
FRANK D. BEATTYS AND COMPANY
NEW YORK
Copyright, 1909, by
FRANK D. BEATTYS AND COMPANY
NEW YORK
THE DE VINNE PRESS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks are due to the following publishers and authors for permission to
reprint poems and to adapt stories on which they hold copyright:
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS:
“Singing”; “Autumn Fires” by Robert Louis Stevenson from “Poems
and Ballads” (copyright 1895, 1896).
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & COMPANY:
“Sir Robin” from “Childhood Songs” by Lucy Larcom; “A Flock
of Doves” from “Poems for Children” by Celia Thaxter; “What
the Winds Bring” by Edmund Clarence Stedman; “Hiawatha”;
“The Children’s Hour”; “Christmas Bells” by Henry Wadsworth
Longfellow; “The Miraculous Pitcher”; “The Pomegranate Seed” by
Nathaniel Hawthorne.
KINDERGARTEN LITERATURE COMPANY:
“The Bluebird” from “Songs from the Nest” by Emily Huntington
Miller.
LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY:
“September” by Helen Hunt Jackson.
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD COMPANY:
“The Caterpillar” from “Finger Plays” by Emilie Poulsson.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY:
“The Fairy’s Love Song” by Ella Higginson.
MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY:
“Patty’s New Dress” from “More Mother Stories” by Maud Lindsay;
“The Teeter” from “Rhymes for Little Fingers” by Maud Burnham.
SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE:
“Mary’s Meadow” by Juliana Horatio Ewing.
THE PHELPS PUBLISHING COMPANY:
“Pop-corn Song” by Sophia T. Newman. From “Good Housekeeping.”
THE YOUTH’S COMPANION:
“The Calico’s Story”; “The Nixie’s Strain” by Hjalmar Hjorth
Boyesen.
F. A. OWEN PUBLISHING COMPANY:
“The Story of a Little Water Drop” by Eva Mayne.
CONTENTS
PAGE
SEPTEMBER: HELEN HUNT JACKSON
INDIAN CORN 11
THE COMING OF THE CORN—Henry W. Longfellow (_Adapted_) 14
ARABELLA’S PARTY 16
THE CATERPILLAR—Emilie Poulsson 18
RUMPEL-STILTS-KIN—Jacob and William Grimm (_Adapted_) 19
OCTOBER: WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
HIAWATHA’S CANOE—Henry W. Longfellow (_Adapted_) 25
HIAWATHA’S SAILING—Henry W. Longfellow (_Adapted_) 26
LADY GRAY 27
THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER—Jacob and William Grimm 29
HALLOWE’EN 31
POP-CORN SONG—Sophia T. Newman 34
PHILEMON AND BAUCIS—Nathaniel Hawthorne (_Adapted_) 35
NOVEMBER: JOHN G. WHITTIER
THE FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY 41
THANKSGIVING DAY LONG AGO 44
THANKSGIVING DAY—Lydia Maria Child 46
WHITTIER 48
PATTIE’S NEW DRESS—Maud Lindsay (_Adapted_) 51
DECEMBER: OLD SONG
CHRISTMAS CAROL 56
THE BIRDS’ CHRISTMAS FEAST 57
PICCOLA 59
THE STAR-CHILDREN—Fraulein Meissner (_Adapted_) 62
THE STARS—May Moore Jackson 65
RAPHAEL—Louise de la Ramée (_Adapted_) 67
JANUARY: DINAH M. MULOCK
THE GREAT WHITE STOVE—Louise de la Ramée (_Adapted_) 71
THE FLOCK OF DOVES—Celia Thaxter 75
THE MIDNIGHT SUN 77
MICHAEL ANGELO 80
FEBRUARY: EVE BRODLIQUE SUMMERS
A VALENTINE—Eve Brodlique Summers 83
ABRAHAM LINCOLN 84
THE FIRST FLAG 87
LONGFELLOW’S ARM-CHAIR 88
THE ROAD OF THE LOVING HEART 89
SINGING—Robert Louis Stevenson 91
MARCH: CELIA THAXTER
THE FOUR WINDS—Edmund Clarence Stedman 93
THE BAG OF WINDS 94
THE FEAST OF DOLLS 97
THE FEAST OF FLAGS 98
FRANKLIN’S KITE 100
BOATS SAIL ON THE RIVERS—Christina G. Rossetti 102
THE STORY OF A WATER-DROP—Eva Mayne (_Adapted_) 103
APRIL: LUCY LARCOM
THE SLEEPING PRINCESS—Jacob and William Grimm (_Adapted_) 106
AN OPEN SECRET—Unknown 110
THE FEAST OF EGGS—Christoph Schmid (_Adapted_) 111
THE EASTER EGG—Christoph Schmid (_Adapted_) 114
THE FARMER AND THE BIRDS 116
MAY: EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER
MARY’S MEADOW—Juliana Horatio Ewing (_Adapted_) 119
THE MAY PARTY 122
COME, MY DOLLY—Lydia Avery Coonley-Ward 124
PROSERPINA—Nathaniel Hawthorne (_Adapted_) 125
HAWTHORNE AND HIS CHILDREN 131
JUNE: SELECTED
THUMBLING—Hans Christian Andersen (_Adapted_) 134
MIDSUMMER NIGHT—Shakespeare (_Adapted_) 143
THE TEETER—Maud Burnham 144
THE NIXIE’S MUSIC—Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen (_Adapted_) 145
JULY: FRANCIS SCOTT KEY
AMERICA—Samuel F. Smith 150
LIBERTY BELL 152
THE SOLDIER BIRD 155
THE CALICO’S STORY—The Youths’ Companion (_Adapted_) 157
AUGUST: ELLA HIGGINSON
THE SIX LITTLE SEA-MAIDS—Andersen (_Adapted_) 162
THE SINGER AND THE CRICKET 166
KING SOLOMON AND THE BEES 168
THE LITTLE MAID OF THE LIGHTHOUSE 169
GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD MORNING—Lord Houghton 173
WORD LIST 177
Sing a song of Seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall.
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.
SEPTEMBER.
[Illustration:
The goldenrod is yellow,
The corn is turning brown,
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.
By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer’s best of beauty
And autumn’s best of cheer.
HELEN HUNT JACKSON.
]
INDIAN CORN.
[Illustration]
Long ago the Indians lived where we now live.
The Indian house was a tent covered with skins or bark. These tents were
called wigwams.
The Indians wore clothes made of deerskin. Often these were covered with
pretty beads.
Indian boys played ball, and swam in the rivers. Sometimes they went into
the woods to hunt with their bows and arrows.
Indian girls played with dolls made of deerskin. Sometimes they helped
their mothers plant the corn or cook the food.
The Indian baby’s cradle was a bag made of skin. It was tied to a board.
The Indian mother carried the baby on her back in this cradle.
Often she hung the cradle on a branch of a tree. The wind rocked the
little cradle.
[Illustration]
Sometimes the Indian father wore feathers in his hair, and painted his
face. This made him look very fierce.
Indian children never cried. More than anything else they wanted to be
brave.
II
One day some white people came over the sea in a ship. They were called
Pilgrims.
It was cold, and snow was on the ground.
The Pilgrims sent out some men to walk along the shore.
They were looking for a good place to build their log-houses.
They soon came to a pile of sand. They began to dig, and found a basket
full of corn. It belonged to the Indians.
The Pilgrims did not know that the Indians could make such large, strong
baskets. It took two men to lift the basket of corn from the ground.
The white men had never seen Indian corn.
“How beautiful it is!” they said.
The Pilgrims took some of the corn to plant in the spring. The next
summer they paid the Indians for all they had taken.
A kind Indian taught them how to plant the corn. He also taught them how
to cook it.
Indian corn is one of the most useful of all the plants that grow.
THE COMING OF THE CORN.
[Illustration]
Hiawatha, the young Indian chief, was alone in the woods.
He was thinking what he could do to help his people.
He could not rise from his bed of leaves, as he had not eaten anything
for three days.
Then a young man dressed in green and yellow came to him.
“Oh, my Hiawatha!” he said. “I am Mondamin, the friend of man.
“I have come to tell you how you can help your people. Arise from your
bed and wrestle with me.”
Hiawatha grew stronger and stronger as he wrestled with Mondamin. Three
times Mondamin came and wrestled with Hiawatha.
Then Mondamin said, “The next time we wrestle you will win. Take off my
green and yellow clothes. Make a bed for me to lie in where the sun may
come and warm me.
“No one but you must watch beside me, until I come again with the
sunshine.”
Hiawatha made the bed as Mondamin had told him, and then went home. Every
day he watched the place where Mondamin was lying.
At last he saw a small green feather coming up from the earth.
Before the summer was over, the corn with its soft yellow hair stood
before him, tall and beautiful.
Then Hiawatha was glad, and cried, “It is Mondamin, the friend of man!”
He called the Indians and showed them the corn. Then he said, “It is a
gift for you, my people, and it will always be your food.”
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW’S “Hiawatha” (_Adapted_).
ARABELLA’S PARTY.
[Illustration]
“Grandma, Arabella wants a party, and there are no dolls to come to it,”
said Ruth.
“Peter has been lying in my room a great many years,” said Grandma. “I
think he would like to come to a party.”
Ruth laughed when Grandma gave her the rag baby. He wore such queer
clothes.
“Your father played with Peter when he was a little boy,” said Grandma.
“He liked Sally Squash, too. Shall we ask her to the party?”
Ruth followed Grandma into the garden. They soon found a long squash.
Grandma cut a face in the small end, and put a white paper dress on the
squash. Then Sally was ready for the party.
“I should like to ask Patty Corncob,” said Grandma. “I played with her
when I was a little girl.”
Grandma tied a head and arms made of paper on a corncob. Then she made a
pink paper dress and cap.
“Oh, how pretty!” said Ruth as she looked at Patty Corncob. “I like her
almost as well as Arabella.”
Grandma drew a face in the head of a clothespin, and put on a blue paper
dress and hat.
“This is Betty Clothes-pin,” said Grandma. “She came to my parties long
ago.”
Ruth could not tell which she liked the better, Patty or Betty.
They all sat down under a tree, and ate the cake that Dinah had baked for
the party.
Arabella did not look like the other dolls. She had blue eyes and yellow
hair, and wore a beautiful silk dress.
But she smiled and seemed to have almost as good a time as Grandma and
Ruth.
THE CATERPILLAR.
Fuzzy little caterpillar,
Crawling, crawling on the ground!
Fuzzy little caterpillar,
Nowhere, nowhere to be found,
Though we’ve looked and looked and hunted
Everywhere around!
When the little caterpillar
Found his fuzzy coat too tight,
Then a snug cocoon he made him,
Spun of silk so soft and light;
Rolled himself away within it,
Slept there day and night.
See how this cocoon is stirring!
Now a little head we spy.
What! Is _this_ our caterpillar
Spreading gorgeous wings to dry?
Soon the free and happy creature
Flutters gaily by.
EMILIE POULSSON.
RUMPEL-STILTS-KIN.
There was once a wicked miller who said to his king, “I have a beautiful
daughter who can spin straw into gold.”
The king loved gold more than anything else, so he carried the miller’s
daughter away to his castle.
He filled a large room with straw, and said to her, “If you do not spin
this straw into gold before morning, you must die.”
Then the king went out and locked the door.
The miller’s daughter sat down and began to cry. She did not know how to
spin straw into gold.
Soon a brownie came in, and said, “What will you give me if I spin this
straw into gold?”
“My gold chain,” said the miller’s daughter.
The brownie sat down beside the spinning-wheel, and sang,
“Round about, round about,
Lo and behold!
Reel away, reel away,
Straw into gold!”
[Illustration]
Around went the wheel, and soon all the straw was spun into gold.
When the king came in the next morning, he was very glad to see so much
gold. But he wanted more.
So he locked the miller’s daughter into a larger room filled with straw.
II
Again the brownie came in, and said, “What will you give me if I spin
this straw into gold?”
The miller’s daughter said, “My gold ring.”
So again he sang,
“Round about, round about,
Lo and behold!
Reel away, reel away,
Straw into gold!”
The king was so glad to see all the gold, that he filled a much larger
room with straw.
“Now,” he said, “if you spin this straw into gold I will make you my
queen.”
When the brownie came that night, the miller’s daughter said, “I have
nothing else to give you.”
“Will you give me your first little child, when you are queen?” said the
brownie.
“Yes,” said the miller’s daughter.
Once more the brownie sang. The wheel went round, and soon the room was
filled with gold.
The king was so glad that he made the miller’s daughter his queen.
When she held her first little child in her arms, she was so happy that
she did not think about the brownie.
But one day he came to take away the baby. The poor queen was very
unhappy.
Then the brownie said, “If in three days you can find out my name, I will
not take away your child.”
III
The queen sent all over the land to find out the queerest names.
The first day passed, and the second day passed, and she could not tell
the brownie his name.
On the third day a man came to the queen and said, “Last night as I was
walking through the woods, I saw a brownie dancing around a bonfire and
singing,
“To-day I brew, to-morrow I bake,
Next day the queen’s child I shall take.
How glad I am that nobody knows
That my name is Rumpel-Stilts-Kin!”
This made the queen very happy. When the brownie came in she said,
“Is your name Tom?”
“No, my queen.”
“Is it John?”
“No, my queen.”
“Is it Robert?”
“No, my queen.”
“Can your name be Rumpel-Stilts-Kin?”
“An old fairy has told you! An old fairy has told you!” he cried. Then he
ran away.
The queen laughed and said,
“Good morning to you, Mr. Rumpel-Stilts-Kin.”
JACOB AND WILLIAM GRIMM (_Adapted_).
OCTOBER.
[Illustration:
Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian princes,
But soon they’ll turn to ghosts;
The leathery pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough;
It’s autumn, autumn, autumn late,
’Twill soon be winter now.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.
]
HIAWATHA’S CANOE.
Hiawatha, the young Indian chief, lived in the woods, by the Big Sea
Water. He wanted to make a canoe.
He said to the Birch-tree, “Take off your white cloak, for the summer is
coming, and you will not need it.”
The Birch-tree waved its branches in the wind and said, “Take my cloak, O
Hiawatha!”
So Hiawatha cut the beautiful white bark from the tree.
Then he said to the Cedar, “Give me your branches, so my canoe will be
strong.”
There was a cry from the top of the Cedar, but it said, “Take my
branches, O Hiawatha!”
So Hiawatha cut them off and bent them, to make a frame for his canoe.
“Give me your roots, O Larch-tree,” Hiawatha said, “to hold the ends of
my canoe together.”
The Larch-tree said sadly, “Take them all, O Hiawatha!”
Hiawatha pulled up the roots of the Larch-tree, and sewed the bark
together. Then he said to the Fir-tree, “Give me your balm, so that the
water may not come into my canoe.”
And the tall dark Fir-tree said, “Take my balm, O Hiawatha!”
So Hiawatha made his birch canoe. And it lay upon the water like a yellow
leaf in autumn.
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW’S “Hiawatha.” (_Adapted_).
HIAWATHA’S SAILING.
“Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree!
Of your yellow bark, O Birch-Tree!
Growing by the rushing river,
Tall and stately in the valley!
I a light canoe will build me,
That shall float upon the river
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn,
Like a yellow water-lily!”
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.
[Illustration]
LADY GRAY.
One summer Robert and his father and mother lived in a little house in
the woods.
They saw a squirrel running about in the trees.
Robert put some nuts on the ground and hid behind a tree. Soon the
squirrel came and carried them away.
The next day he put the nuts nearer the house. The squirrel came again
and carried them away.
So it went on for some time. Each day Robert put the nuts nearer the
house.
They named the squirrel Lady Gray.
One day Robert’s mother sat down in a chair on the porch. She put some
nuts on the floor and kept very still.
After a while Lady Gray came up on the porch. She looked at Robert’s
mother, then she took a nut and ran away as fast as she could.
By and by Lady Gray became so gentle that she would hunt for nuts in
their pockets.
One morning Father put a nut on his shoulder. Lady Gray jumped on
Father’s shoulder and ate the nut. How they all laughed.
II
The next summer Robert went again to the little house in the woods.
Robert’s father wanted the house to look pretty, so he painted it white
and green.
In the morning Robert called out, “Mother! Mother! See what the squirrels
have done!”
The porch was covered with marks of little feet.
Lady Gray saw Robert and came up on the porch. A baby squirrel was with
her. They named it Little Son.
Soon Little Son was as gentle as Lady Gray. Sometimes he would let them
put their hands on his soft fur.
One day Robert was out walking with his father. They saw a hole in an old
tree.
Robert’s father held him up so that he could put his hand in the hole.
The squirrel’s nest was almost full of nuts.
All summer Robert had good times, playing with Lady Gray and Little Son.
THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER.
[Illustration]
There was once a kind old shoemaker who was very poor. He had leather to
make only one pair of shoes.
He cut these out and went to bed. The next morning the shoes were
standing ready upon the table.
The shoemaker sold them and bought leather to make two pairs of shoes.
He cut these out, and again found the shoes made when he got up in the
morning.
He sold the shoes and bought leather to make four pairs. The work he cut
out was always done in the morning.
One evening the shoemaker said to his wife, “I should like to sit up
to-night and see who it is that makes the shoes.”
In the night two little elves ran in. They sewed and rapped and tapped so
quickly that the shoes were made long before morning. Then the elves ran
away.
The next day the shoemaker’s wife said, “These elves have made us rich. I
should like to do something for them. You make each of them a little pair
of shoes, and I will make them some clothes.”
On Christmas eve they put the shoes and the clothes on the table. Then
they hid behind the door to see what the elves would do.
When the elves saw the clothes, they quickly put them on. They laughed
and danced and jumped about.
At last they danced out of the door and across the grass and were seen no
more. But the kind shoemaker and his wife lived a long and happy life.
JACOB and WILLIAM GRIMM (_Adapted_).
HALLOWE’EN.
Big Brother Ben, Sister Polly and little Martha sat talking together
under the old oak-tree.
Father went out to see what the children were doing.
“Oh, Father,” said Polly, “to-night is Hallowe’en!”
“May we have some pumpkins to make Jack-o’-lanterns?” asked Ben.
“Yes,” said Father. “Come with me.”
They went down to the corn-field and each chose a yellow pumpkin.
Brother Ben cut a round piece out of the stem-end of each pumpkin. The
little girls then went to work to dig out the pumpkins.
After this Brother Ben cut eyes, nose, and mouth on the outside. The last
thing was to make a little hole in which to set a candle.
“How would you like a bonfire to-night?” asked Father.
This pleased Brother Ben so much that he threw his cap in the air and
cried,
“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!”
[Illustration]
II
When evening came Father and Brother Ben made a large bonfire near the
corn-field.
They all sat around the bonfire and ate the good things which Mother and
Sister Polly carried down in a basket.
Father showed them how to toast apples, pop corn and roast nuts in the
fire.
“Now let us march around with the pumpkins on our heads,” said Brother
Ben.
Mother sat on a rug and watched them. After a while little Martha joined
her and soon the rug held them all.
“Please, Mother, tell us a story,” said little Martha.
Mother told them about the brownies and elves who come out on Hallowe’en
to help the farmer, and all the busy people who work for us.
“I know a story about them, Mother,” said little Martha.
“Let us hear it, dear,” said Mother.
So little Martha told them about the Elves and the Shoemaker.
“I’ll tell about Cinderella and her Pumpkin Coach,” said Polly.
Father told them the story of Mondamin and his gift of corn to the
Indians.
“I can say the poem,” said Brother Ben. “We learned it in school.”
Brother Ben gave the poem so well that they were all very still for a few
moments.
Then Mother said softly, “It is bedtime now.”
As they turned away from the fire Polly said, “The Jack-o’-lanterns were
fun, but I like the stories best of all.”
POP-CORN SONG.
In they drop with a click, clack, click,
Kernels so hard and yellow;
’Round they whirl with a hop, skip, hop,
Each little dancing fellow.
Up they leap, with a snap, crack, snap,
Tossing so light and airy;
Out they pour with a soft, swift rush,
Snowballs fit for a fairy.
SOPHIA T. NEWMAN.
PHILEMON AND BAUCIS.
[Illustration]
A long time ago, on a high hill, lived old Philemon and his good wife
Baucis.
They were poor, but they were two of the kindest old people that ever
lived. Often they went without their supper to give it to some traveler.
One evening, Philemon and Baucis sat on their door-step looking at the
sunset.
Soon they saw two travelers coming up the hill. Some children ran after
them, shouting and setting their dogs on them.
“Come, Wife,” said Philemon. “Let us go and meet these travelers.”
“You go to them,” said Baucis, “while I get them some bread and milk.”
Philemon went to meet the travelers and said, “Welcome, strangers!
Welcome!”
He asked them to come in to supper. Baucis gave the travelers bread and
milk and honey.
On the table stood a pitcher half full of milk.
The travelers quickly drank the milk.
“What good milk!” said one of them. “May I have a little more, kind
Baucis?”
“I am sorry,” said Baucis, “but there is no more milk.”
“Why,” said the traveler, “here is more milk!”
He took the pitcher and filled both bowls.
Baucis looked into the pitcher, and saw the white milk running in from
the side. Soon it was full.
“May I have some bread, Mother Baucis,” said the traveler, “and a little
of that honey?”
Baucis cut him some and found that the bread was no longer old and hard
as it was when she and Philemon ate of it.
And, oh, the honey! It was better than any honey they had ever eaten.
“Who are you, wonderful travelers?” said Philemon.
“Your friends, my good Philemon. After this the pitcher will always be
full of milk for you and Baucis, and for poor travelers.”
II
The next morning the travelers asked Philemon and Baucis to walk with
them and show them the road.
When Philemon and Baucis turned to go back, the older traveler said,
“Good Philemon and Baucis, you gave us not only milk and bread but also a
kind welcome. Ask for anything you want, and you shall have it.”
[Illustration]
Philemon and Baucis looked at each other and said, “Grant that we may die
together.”
“You shall have your wish,” said the traveler. “Now look at your home.”
They saw a beautiful white castle standing where their little house had
been.
The old people fell on their knees to give thanks. When they looked up,
the travelers were not there.
Philemon and Baucis lived in the castle a long, long time. One morning
they could not be found.
The people looked everywhere for them. At last they saw two large trees
standing in front of the castle.
One was an oak, the other was a linden-tree. The people wondered where
they came from. Just then the wind began to blow, and the trees seemed to
be talking.
“I am Philemon,” said the Oak.
“I am Baucis,” said the Linden.
Whenever a traveler rested under the trees, the leaves seemed to say,
“Welcome, dear traveler! Welcome!”
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE (_Adapted_).
NOVEMBER.
[Illustration:
Ah! on Thanksgiving Day, when from east and from west,
From north and from south come the pilgrim and guest,
What moistens the lip, and what brightens the eye?
What calls back the past, like the rich pumpkin-pie?
JOHN G. WHITTIER.
]
THE FIRST THANKSGIVING DAY.
[Illustration]
One spring the Pilgrims planted corn as the Indians had taught them.
Summer brought the sunshine and the rain to ripen the corn.
Such a harvest as there was when autumn came!
“Let us have a day of thanksgiving for this great blessing,” said the
Governor.
“A Thanksgiving Day! A Thanksgiving Day!” cried the Pilgrims.
“The Indians have been kind to us. We will ask them to our feast,” said
the Governor.
So they began to get ready for the first Thanksgiving Day.
II
The Pilgrim fathers went hunting and fishing. They carried home duck,
turkey, and fish.
The Pilgrim mothers made bread and cake from the corn. They baked plenty
of pumpkin-pies.
What a good time the children had getting ready for the feast! They
gathered the wild plums and grapes. They put pop-corn in the ashes of
the wide fireplace. Then they watched until the “Snap! Crack! Snap!” was
heard.
The Indians came, gaily dressed in skins, and paint, and feathers. They
brought five large deer to the feast.
The Indians came in time for breakfast and stayed three whole days. So
they must have had a good time. They played games, and danced, and sang.
Before the feast the Indians and the Pilgrims thanked God for His
goodness to them.
Ever since then the people have kept Thanksgiving Day.
[Illustration]
THANKSGIVING DAY LONG AGO.
The large kitchen was a busy place on Thanksgiving morning.
A log fire was burning in the fireplace. On the walls hung strings of
dried apples. Long, yellow squashes hung up above.
A little girl sat beside the spinning-wheel dressing corncob dolls. She
was taking care of the baby that lay in the queer old cradle.
Mother put the pudding in the kettle that hung before the fire. Then she
said, “Come, Patty! It is time to set the table.”
Patty looked at the turkey that was roasting before the fire.
“I wish Thanksgiving came every day,” she said.
“What hard work that would make for Mother!” said Grandma, looking at the
rows of pies.
After a while a loud shout made them all run to the door.
“Here they come! Here they come!” said Patty, dancing around the room.
Uncle John stopped the sleigh and out jumped Aunt Mary and the children.
What a good dinner it was! They all said that the turkey was the best
they ever ate. And, oh, the pudding and the pies!
After dinner the fun began. There were games and songs, and at last a
dance.
Grandma and Grandpa stood at one end. Father and little Patty stood at
the other end. Then up and down the long kitchen they went, laughing all
the time.
In the evening they sat around the log fire. They told stories, roasted
apples, and ate the nuts the children had gathered.
At last they said good night. Then Uncle John put Aunt Mary and the
children in the sleigh, and drove home through the softly falling snow.
Soon every one in the old farm-house was in bed and asleep.
Pussy sat in the warm firelight, alone, in the large kitchen.
THANKSGIVING DAY.
[Illustration]
Over the river and through the wood,
To Grandfather’s house we go;
The horse knows the way
To carry the sleigh
Through the white and drifted snow.
Over the river and through the wood;
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes
And bites the nose,
As over the ground we go.
Over the river and through the wood,
To have a first-rate play.
Hear the bells ring,
“Ting-a-ling-ding!”
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!
Over the river and through the wood,
Trot fast, my dapple-gray!
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting-hound!
For this is Thanksgiving Day!
Over the river and through the wood,
And straight through the barn-yard gate.
We seem to go
Extremely slow,
It is so hard to wait!
Over the river and through the wood;
Now Grandmother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah for the fun!
Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie!
LYDIA MARIA CHILD.
WHITTIER.
When Whittier was a little boy, he lived on a farm.
In the summer he ran about with bare feet. He went swimming and fishing.
His merry whistle could be heard as he hunted for strawberries.
He knew the songs of the birds. He liked to watch them make their nests
and feed their young.
When he went into the woods, the squirrels played about him. They let him
see where they hid their nuts.
He watched the bee gather honey from the flowers. He knew how it made its
house.
Often, at night, he sat on the door-step to eat bread and milk.
Then he could see the clouds and hear the frogs. Sometimes the fireflies
flew about looking like little lanterns.
He tells of all those happy times in a poem called “The Barefoot Boy.”
[Illustration]
II
In another poem called “Snow-Bound,” Whittier tells what he did in the
winter.
One morning they looked out to find everything covered with snow.
“See the well!” said one of the boys. “It looks like a castle.”
“That pole looks like an old man,” said another.
Just then their father called out, “Boys! Make a path.”
With merry shouts they made a path to the barn. In one place the snow was
so deep that they played it was a cave.
The old horse heard them and put his head out of the barn window to see
the fun.
The rooster heard them coming and crowed a good morning.
They fed the farm-yard animals and gave them straw for their beds.
In the evening they all gathered around the fireplace.
The dog lay asleep in the warm firelight. The cat opened and closed her
yellow eyes as she sat beside him.
The boys roasted apples and ate the nuts which they had gathered.
Then their father told them a story about the Indians. Mother talked of
the days when she was a little girl.
When bedtime came, they said good night.
The wind roared around the house. The snow fell through the roof upon
their beds. But the children did not know it, for they were soon fast
asleep.
PATTIE’S NEW DRESS.
When Pattie was a little girl, long ago, she needed a warm new dress.
Grandmother said, “I’ll spin the wool for it.”
“And I’ll weave the cloth,” said Sister Rachel.
“And I’ll make the dress,” said the little girl’s mother.
The sheep had given the wool from their backs for Pattie’s new dress.
“It is as soft as down, and as white as milk, and as beautiful as snow,”
said Pattie.
Grandmother carded the wool fine and smooth. Then she fastened it on her
spindle and sent the spinning-wheel whirling round.
“Zu-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m!” sang the wheel, as it turned.
“Zu-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m!”
Pattie’s brother said it sounded as if there were bees in the room.
“Zu-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m!”
As Grandmother drew the thread out from the fleecy wool she said,
“A hum and a whirl,
A twist and a twirl,
This is the way good yarn is spun.”
[Illustration]
II
Pattie stood by to watch her spin. She asked more questions than
Grandmother had time to answer.
“Will there be a pocket in my new dress,” she asked, “and buttons down
the back?”
“And, oh, Grandmother! What color is it going to be?”
“I know,” said Brother Joe. He had just come in from the woods with some
walnut bark.
“It will be the color of a—chestnut.”
“Brown, brown, brown!” cried Pattie.
Mother made a dye with the walnut bark. Sure enough, when she dipped
the yarn into the dye it came out a beautiful brown just as Pattie had
guessed.
Then Sister Rachel fastened the yarn in the loom and began to weave.
The treadle went up and the treadle went down with a click and a clack.
Such a merry sound!
Away the shuttle went to carry the thread under and over, and in and out.
When the cloth was woven Sister Rachel took it out of the loom. Mother
was all ready to begin the dress.
“Snip, snip, snip!” went her sharp scissors.
“Stitch, stitch, stitch!” flew her shining needle.
Long after Pattie was in bed and fast asleep that night, Mother was busy
sewing.
Grandmother and Rachel helped, too, and the dress was ready the very next
day.
It had pockets, two of them, bound with red.
It had buttons down the back like a row of red berries.
Jack Frost had come in the night and the cold winds had begun to blow.
But Pattie did not care.
“I’m warm as toast in my new woolen dress,” said little Pattie.
MAUD LINDSAY (_Adapted_).
[Illustration]
DECEMBER.
[Illustration: OLD SONG.
Sing we all merrily,
Christmas is here.
The day that we love best
Of days in the year.
Bring forth the holly,
The box and the bay,
Deck out our cottage,
For glad Christmas Day.
]
CHRISTMAS CAROL.
And all the bells on earth shall ring,
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day,
And all the bells on earth shall ring,
On Christmas Day in the morning.
And all the angels in heaven shall sing,
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day,
And all the angels in heaven shall sing,
On Christmas Day in the morning.
And all the souls on earth shall sing,
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day,
And all the souls on earth shall sing,
On Christmas Day in the morning.
OLD SONG.
THE BIRDS’ CHRISTMAS FEAST.
[Illustration]
Far away across the sea, there is a very cold country.
The ground is covered with snow almost all the year, and the birds cannot
get enough to eat.
So every Christmas the children are the birds’ Santa Claus.
In the summer the children go into the fields and gather grain for the
birds.
The day before Christmas such a wonderful thing happens!
Over the snow the birds come from north, south, east, and west.
They sit upon the porch, upon the roof of the house, and sometimes look
in at the windows.
“Here we are, little friends!” they seem to say.
On Christmas morning, a tall pole with a bunch of grain on the top is set
before every door.
Then such a twittering is heard from the birds, and such merry shouts
from the children!
It would be hard to tell which has the better time, the birds or the
happy children.
Suggested by CELIA THAXTER’S Poem, “The Sparrows.”
PICCOLA.
Fred and May lived one winter in a country where the sun was always
bright and warm.
What good times they had playing in the garden!
One day they saw a queer little girl watching them. She did not look like
the little girls they played with at home.
She wore a long red dress. On her feet were little wooden shoes.
She said that her name was Piccola. She told them that she was alone all
day, because her mother went out to work.
Fred and May asked her to come and play with them in the garden.
One day the children were talking about Santa Claus.
“Who is that?” asked Piccola.
“Why, Piccola!” said May. “Did you never hear of Christmas?”
“Yes,” said Piccola. “We go to church on Christmas Day, and hear
beautiful singing.”
Then the children told her all about Santa Claus.
“Hang up your stocking on Christmas Eve,” said May. “He will come down
the chimney and fill it with toys.”
Piccola could hardly wait to tell her mother about Santa Claus.
“I wonder what he will give me,” she said.
“Do not look for him this year, little daughter,” said her mother. “I
shall be thankful if we have enough to eat.”
But Piccola knew that Santa Claus would not forget her.
II
On Christmas Eve Piccola did not have any stocking to hang up. So she put
her little wooden shoe in front of the fireplace.
“I’m sure Santa Claus will not care if it is a shoe,” she said.
The next morning Piccola awoke before it was light. She ran softly to the
fireplace to see what was in her shoe.
“Oh, Mother, Mother!” cried the happy little girl. “See what Santa Claus
has given me!”
She ran to her mother with the shoe in her hand. A little bird had come
down the chimney. There it lay in the shoe, looking up at her with its
two bright eyes.
[Illustration]
Piccola fed it and warmed it. Then she carried it into the garden to show
it to Fred and May.
They gave her candy, and toys, and a doll. But Piccola liked the gift of
Santa Claus best of all.
Suggested by CELIA THAXTER’S Poem, “Piccola.”
THE STAR-CHILDREN.
Queen Sunshine lived in a wonderful red and blue castle.
She wore a dress of gold. Whenever she came out from her castle
everything became light.
She had many children whom she loved very dearly, and they also wore
dresses of gold.
Their good servant, the Moon, who followed after them, wore a dress of
shining silver.
In another country across the sea lived Queen Darkness.
She always wore the same black dress. Wherever she went all things became
dark.
She was alone and unhappy and often wished that she had children like
those of Queen Sunshine.
One day when Queen Sunshine’s children were playing on the seashore, a
little boy fell into the water.
“Oh, help me! Help me!” he cried.
One of his sisters tried to help him, and she, too, fell into the sea.
[Illustration]
By and by, when the Moon came to take them home, not one child was on the
shore. They had all fallen into the water.
The Moon looked at the sea, and saw that it was black.
“Oh!” she cried. “Queen Darkness is there! She has taken all the dear
children.”
II
The Moon was so sorry for Queen Sunshine that she would not go home and
tell her that Queen Darkness had taken the children.
She said to Queen Darkness, “Let me go with the children.”
Queen Darkness gladly carried their good servant, the Moon, to her dark
castle to live with Queen Sunshine’s children.
She named them the Star-children. Queen Darkness always keeps the
Star-children near her. The little ones are so close together that they
look like a silver ribbon on her dress.
Ever since, their mother, Queen Sunshine, has been looking for her
children.
Whenever she comes in her golden dress to the shore of the sea, the
water is so bright that she cannot find them.
Queen Darkness does not let the Star-children go out when it is light,
but once every night she leads them across the sky.
Their mother always follows after them. Sometimes she sees one of her
children far away.
The kind old servant, the Moon, sometimes runs away and comes to Queen
Sunshine to tell her about her children.
From the German of FRAULEIN MEISSNER (_Adapted_).
THE STARS.
Do you know what the little stars do at night?
They play on a deep blue hill.
Mother Moon watches to keep them in sight,
For they’re never, never still.
Do you know what the little stars do at dawn?
They sink in a sun-kissed sea,
And there they sleep till the day is gone,
As still as still can be.
MAY MOORE JACKSON.
[Illustration]
RAPHAEL.
Long, long ago, across the sea, there lived a master artist.
He made, in clay, such beautiful bowls and vases, that people came from
far and near to buy them.
Some young men lived with him. The master artist taught them how to make
the same beautiful things.
One summer day, one of these young men was very sad. A little boy with
golden hair ran up to him and said, “Dear Luca, why are you so unhappy?”
“Oh, Raphael!” said Luca. “The great duke wants us to paint him a bowl
and a vase. The master says that the artist who makes the most beautiful
one may live with him always. He will also have a gift from the duke.”
“When must the bowl and the vase be ready?” said Raphael.
“In three months,” answered Luca.
Raphael threw his arms around Luca’s neck.
“Let me try to paint them for you,” said the little boy with golden hair.
“You dear child!” cried Luca. “You are only seven years old. You cannot
help me.”
Raphael was very sorry for his dear Luca.
“Oh, Luca, I love you so! Please let me try,” he said again.
Then Luca said, “You may try, Raphael. It can do no harm. I can never
paint the vase and the bowl.”
II
Raphael was glad now that his father had taught him how to draw.
He was glad, too, that the master artist had taught him how to put the
colors on the clay.
All through the long summer days the child worked alone. He would not let
any one see his painting till it was done.
One day he showed Luca his work.
“Dear Luca, see!” he said. “There are the vase and the bowl for you to
give the duke!”
Luca fell on his knees before the little boy.
“Wonderful child!” he said. “I cannot call this beautiful work mine. It
would not be right.”
The next day the duke came to look at all the vases and the bowls.
“Here is something very beautiful,” he said, taking a bowl in his hand.
“Who painted this?”
The master artist turned to the young men and said, “Who did this work?”
But no one answered.
Then a little boy with golden hair went to him. “I painted it,” he said.
“I, Raphael.”
Tears of joy came into the great duke’s eyes. He took a golden chain from
around his neck and gave it to Raphael.
The little boy said, “But it is Luca’s. I painted the bowl for him to
give to you.”
But Luca did not hear him. He was kneeling again at the feet of the
wonderful child.
LOUISE DE LA RAMÉE’S “The Child of Urbino” (_Adapted_).
JANUARY.
[Illustration:
Who comes dancing over the snow,
His soft little feet all bare and rosy?
Open the door, though the wild winds blow,
Take the child in and make him cozy.
Take him in and hold him dear,
He is the wonderful glad New Year.
DINAH M. MULOCK.
]
THE GREAT WHITE STOVE.
Karl had no mother and his father was very poor.
The only beautiful thing in their little house was a white stove. It was
very large, and it had wonderful colored pictures all over it.
Karl and his brothers and sisters loved it dearly. In the summer they
covered it with flowers.
In the winter the children sat around the stove, while Karl drew them
pictures and told them stories.
One cold winter night the father came home very late. He could not find
work, and the children had not enough to eat.
By and by the little ones went to bed.
Then the father told Karl and his sister that he had sold the great white
stove.
“Oh, no, Father!” cried Karl. “You will not send our dear stove away.”
“I must,” said his father. “It is a wonderful stove. There is a man who
will give me a great deal of gold for it. I must have gold to buy bread
for my little ones.”
“Wait awhile,” said Karl. “I will help. I am sure there is work I can do.”
Karl’s father shook his head and went away. He thought such a very little
boy could not help him.
All that night Karl lay on the floor beside his dear white stove.
II
In the morning the man came and carried the stove away in a wagon. Karl
was so unhappy that he could do nothing but cry and cry.
“I love it so,” he said. “Better than anything on earth.”
Then he said, “I will go with it.”
He ran quickly after the wagon and climbed into it.
By and by when no one was looking, he hid inside the great white stove.
It was very dark, but it was warm, and soon he was fast asleep.
When Karl opened his eyes, he wondered where he could be. He lay quite
still and listened.
He traveled a long, long time. At last the stove was set down on a soft
rug. Then some one said, “What a wonderful stove!”
[Illustration]
The door was opened, and Karl jumped out. He fell on his knees before a
man who had a very kind face.
“Oh,” cried he, “please do not send me away! Let me stay here with my
dear white stove.”
“Poor child!” said the man, as he laid his hand on Karl’s hand. “Why did
you hide in the stove? Tell me for I can help you. I am the king.”
III
Karl was glad to tell the king all about the great white stove. He told
him how much they all loved it. He said that they had to send it away
because they had no bread to eat.
“Do let me stay with it,” he said again. “I will cut wood for it and feed
it. The stove loves to have me feed it, for I have done it so long.”
“But what else do you wish to do?” said the king.
“I should like to paint pictures, beautiful pictures, like those on the
stove,” said the little boy.
So the king told Karl that he could stay in the castle with the great
white stove.
Karl became a great artist and painted beautiful pictures. Then the king
gave him the stove.
Karl sent it back to the little house where his father still lived. He
often went there to see his father and the great white stove.
He was thankful that he had traveled so far inside of the stove that
winter day.
LOUISE DE LA RAMÉE’S “The Nurnberg Stove” (_Adapted_).
THE FLOCK OF DOVES.
The world was like a wilderness
Of soft and downy snow;
The trees were plumed with feathery flakes,
And the ground was white below.
Came the little mother out to the gate
To watch for her children three;
Her hood was red as a poppy-flower,
And rosy and young was she.
She took the snow in her cunning hands,
As waiting she stood alone,
And lo! in a moment, beneath her touch,
A fair white dove had grown.
A flock she wrought, and on the fence
Set them in bright array,
With folded wings, or pinions spread,
Ready to fly away.
And then she hid by the pine-tree tall,
For the children’s tones rang sweet,
As home from school through the drifts so light,
They sped with merry feet.
“O Nannie, Nannie! See the fence
Alive with doves so white!
Oh, hush! don’t frighten them away!”
They whisper with delight.
They crept so soft, they crept so still,
The wondrous sight to see,
The little mother pushed the gate,
And laughed out joyfully.
She clasped them close, she kissed their cheeks,
And lips so sweet and red.
“The birds are only made of snow!
You are my doves,” she said.
CELIA THAXTER.
THE MIDNIGHT SUN.
Naka lives where it is very cold. There is snow and ice nearly all the
year.
Naka lives in a queer little round house made of cakes of snow. The door
is so close to the ground that she has to creep in and out on her hands
and knees.
One day Naka’s mother dressed the little girl in her warm fur clothes.
She first put on stockings made of bird skins. The soft feathers kept her
feet very warm. Over the stockings she wore another pair made of bearskin.
Next she put on a white bearskin coat. This had a hood which she put over
Naka’s short, dark hair.
It was almost noon when they crept out into the dim light.
They climbed a hill and saw the sun just rising; the beautiful, bright
sun which they had not seen for so long!
[Illustration]
It soon went away, but the next day it came again and stayed longer.
After a while it did not go away at all.
All day and all night the bright sun was shining on the earth. Naka had a
merry time playing in the warm sunshine.
She ran about on the soft green grass and picked the pretty flowers.
She found some berries one day and carried them home to her mother.
She watched the great white birds that came to lay their eggs among the
rocks.
Best of all, the reindeer came back and gave her milk to drink.
By and by the sun went slowly away. But Naka was happy.
In the winter she had no sun. But the moon and the stars were bright.
Then, too, she saw again the beautiful northern lights, which are
brighter than fireworks.
MICHAEL ANGELO.
Long ago in a country over the sea there lived a Grand Duke.
He had a garden in which he put some beautiful statues.
A boy artist named Michael Angelo often came there to study. One day he
saw across the garden the statue of a faun that had no head.
“I will make a head for that statue,” said Angelo.
He made a head of a laughing faun. The mouth was open so that the teeth
could be seen.
About this time the Grand Duke was walking in his garden. He stopped to
look at the statue made by the boy artist.
“Well done, Angelo!” said the Grand Duke. “But, see! You have made an old
faun. He should not have all his teeth.”
“That is so,” said Angelo, and he quickly took out some of the teeth.
This pleased the Grand Duke so much that he asked Angelo to live with him
in his castle.
[Illustration]
The years Michael Angelo spent among the beautiful statues in the Grand
Duke’s garden helped him to become a great artist.
FEBRUARY.
[Illustration:
But this one is my very own.
See! here a kiss I write
Shaped like a star that all alone
Shines brightly through the night.
]
A VALENTINE.
I’m making you a valentine,
At least, I’m going to try,
Because they don’t seem really mine
Those valentines I buy.
But _this_ one is my very own.
See! Here a kiss I write
Shaped like a star that all alone
Shines brightly through the night.
Now something blue, just like the sky.
And this—green like a tree,
And this thing—oh, so very high!—
Is just some love from me!
EVE BRODLIQUE SUMMERS.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
When Abraham Lincoln was a little boy, he lived in a log house in the
woods.
He could not go to school, for he worked on a farm with his father. He
went to school only one year.
His mother taught him how to read and write in the evenings. When
everybody had gone to bed, he would sit and read by the light of a log
fire.
There were only two or three books in the house. Lincoln read them over
and over.
One day a man let him take a book about George Washington. When he went
to bed, Lincoln put it between the logs of the house.
When he awoke he found that the snow had fallen upon the book and spoiled
it. He took it back to the man and told him he was very sorry.
The man said, “You must either pay for the book, or work three days in my
corn-field.”
At the end of the three days the man said, “You are an honest boy, Abe.
You may keep the book.”
II
Lincoln did not like to see any one unkind to animals.
Once, when he was a boy, Lincoln was standing on a log making a speech.
The boys were clapping their hands and shouting.
One of the boys saw a turtle. He picked it up and threw it down at
Lincoln’s feet. The poor turtle could not crawl away with its broken
shell.
Lincoln did not like this. He jumped off the log and said, “Whoever did
that is a coward!”
The boys were sorry for the poor turtle. They gently picked it up and
carried it down to the water.
One day when Lincoln was a man, he saw a pig trying to get out of the mud.
Lincoln had on some new clothes. He did not want to get them muddy, so he
passed on.
But he could not help thinking about the poor pig. He turned back and
helped the pig out.
Lincoln became a very great man. He was so wise and kind that the people
made him President.
He did so much for his country that we keep his birthday on the 12th of
February.
[Illustration]
THE FIRST FLAG.
Over one hundred years ago, there lived in Philadelphia a young woman
named Betsy Ross.
From the time she was a little girl she liked to sew. When her husband
died she made money by her needlework.
One day there came to her little brown house the great General Washington.
He wanted a new flag for his soldiers to carry in their war against the
King of England.
When he heard of the beautiful needlework of Betsy Ross, he came to ask
her to help him.
Together they planned a flag that had thirteen stripes and thirteen stars.