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Lea diagremmes suivants iliustrent ie mAthode. y errata >d to It ie pelure, f on A 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 •I'-^'^"**: ■■'l^''*%.^rii:^,^' Kli 'BUN i^ COT AND CRADLE STORIES BY CATHARINE PARR TRAILL AUTHOR or " LOST IN THE BAOKWOOOS," " PEARLS AND PBBBLIS ; OR, NOTBB or AN OLD NATURALIST," >TC. EDITED BY MARY AGNES FITZGIBBON AUTHOR or "a VBTBRAN or 1812," "a trip to MANITOBA," BTC. >< ♦ M TORONTO: w:lliam brigos, wesley buildings. C. W. COAXES, MoKTUAb, Qra. S. F. HUE8TIS, Halipax, N.S, 1895. Kntercd, according to the Act o( the Pwliament of Canada in the year one thousand eight hundred and ninety-live, by William Brioos, Toronto, in the Ofoe of the Hinieter of Agriculture, at Ottawn. DEDICATED TO THE %_ ^*«*<. ^l«te^ /f***^ r^. ^^•^■^•vh^^xiK^ ■^. ^#«^ /X>.^^*-Cr xj^^^l^->^ t A^ /^ ^f'^^^n^A /^^^ -t^ -*t^ J>^^^ ^OV-d-.^^. €^-e^ ('^/^irsi^^^^ ^i^ CONTENTS. PAO» Thb Qdikn Bkks 11 The Grkat Grebm Draoon-Flt and His Frirnds . . 28 Blind Willy's Drbam .86 Bbtty Holt's Story 47 The Five Little Oardenrrs S4 A Garden Party 82 Katie's Secret 69 MiDOE, THE FIELD-MOUSR, AND HSR FaMILY ... 76 What the Grey Parrot Said and Did .... 88 Tat and Tit: the Ground Squirrels of Mimnrwawa . 97 The Pet Bantams US The Lofty and the Lowly; or, The Oak and Its De- pendents ..... 122 Mrs. Flytrap and Daddy Longlkos 129 Further Adv nturbs of Tat and Tit .... 136 Dame PARTLErr and Mrs. Dorkino 148 Mrs. Margery Pie; or, Prating Punishrd . , . 166 The Wrens op "Westove" 170 Rich Relations and Poor Ones * 181 The Little Builders 188 The Stolen Voyage 196 The Swiss Hbrd-Boy and His Alpine Mousb . . . 216 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. Zbc (Slueen Beea. It was a lovely bright morning in June. The dew still sparkled like diamonds on the freshly opened flowers in many a gay garden. The air was sweet with the scent of roses and lilies. Butterflies of many gorgeous colours flitted over blossoms no brighter than their own gay wings, which opened and shut like living flowers in the sunbeams. Happy creatures ! they had nothing to do but enjoy their short, joyous lives. Myriads of gauzy-winged insects, too, were dancing in the warm sunshine that June morning. The bees alone were absent. Why were they not busy seeking honey in the bells of the flowers ? The humming-birds were darting hither and thither, 12 COT AND CRADLE STORIFS. liovering for a brief instant with their tiny bodies glittering like emcraldR and ruby gems, just poised in air, while in haste they inserted their long, slender bills in the necks of the honey-bearing flowers, the larkspurs, columbines and balsams. These little summer visitors from the Southern States and West Indies know well where the sweets are hidden ready for them and the bees. But again we ask, Why are the bees absent ? There is the yello.v powder on the nnthers of the flowers to be gathered for the bee-bread, to feed the young ones that are ready to take wing ; and there is other delicate matter to be got for making wax for the cells wherein to store the honey for winter use. What are the little creatures doing ? In reply, we hear a st^'angely mournful sound, and see the hive in great commotion. The bees are creep- ing outside, flying a short distance, then returning as if unable to tear themselves away. Something is certainly wrong to-day among these wise and orderly creatures. Yes, the sad news has just been told them, their beloved old Queen is dead. There is grief and deep trouble among her subjects — such trouble as would follow in this great British Empire were the tidings of so sad an event as the death of our most gracious THE QUEEN BEES. 13 and beloved sovereign Queen Victoria to reach her subjects. The Queen Bee had gone out for a few minutes to give some special order, to direct one of the chief workers to take his band to a clover-Held in full bloom and abounding in fresh honey-bearing blossoms, when a rapacious fly-catcher — the largest of the Phoebe birds, known as the " Kingbird " or " Tyrant Fly- catcher " — saw her as he sat watching for prey on a bare pole near by. He gave a flirt with his wings and white-fringed tail as he swept round her, and she was quickly seized and torn by his cruel bill. Thus the hive was left without a Queen to rule over its inmates. There was grief among the bees, but no doubt the hungry kingbird had made* a sweet meal, and cared nothing for the sorrow he had caused in the garden that lovely June morning. The work of the labouring bees was at a standstill, the news of the Queen's death having been carried to them by trusty messengers. The drones were in a state of wild distress. The ovenseers in charge of the honey-seekers were in despair. The fine-dust gatherers ceased their cheerful buzzing songs, and, heavy with grief, wended their way back to join in the general lamentation of the hive. 14 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. I i The old Irish gardener Pat was grieved for the trouble the bees were in, and took a piece of black crape from an old hat-band and tied it to the stand where the beehive stood, to show that he sympathized with them in their sorrow for the untimely death of their Queen. When someone laughed at the kindly old man for putting the bees in mourning, he said, gravely : " Shure an' the craythurs will take it kindly as a compliment, and be plazed that we think uv thim in the day uv their trouble for the loss uv their good ould Queen." The excitement was greatest among the young swarm that had been hatched only a few days. A change was at hand, and it became an important question among them as to what was to be done without a Queen. Who was to take care of them ? Then the old bees held a consultation to consider the situation. " How can we keep order here without a Queen ? " asked one of the elders. " This newly hatched swarm are in a very excited and unruly state ; they will not obey any law but their own sweet wills, and I fear we shall have great trouble with them." " We must turn them out," said another of the old bees. THE QUEEX BEES. 15 " They are already in a state of rebellion," remarked a thii-d. " I just overheard a pert young bee saying they were * not going to be lorded over and overrule «he constantly ThefirstdaytheyhadaJItoscatter.K .• of something to eat, as there ^f^' '""*"'' ^d their only shelter was a hZi^ tl Z"'"'^- t"e. Although thp h„. ""^ '™nk of a -- or bad wltheritt """'' "" ''* ^^^"* °^ '-™ing, as that very davaM ''/''' "°' '°"^ '» -i*h heavy „i„ ,„d ^, J l^O^der-storm came on others managed to ^et .„' 7 ?"^" "^^ *"•* » ^^^ the hollow o? the tr?e 1^ ''''*^'- *''«'»-'^- - ones, and the poor MpW ,* '""""^^ °^ "'« -e-ker "y^^e hail anLert^^:;—--" down -"a:rsh?e:;;rtrrn:rt""-'^- ---y.tho^hsomeofhe:f:j:rwt:n:::^ r over each t loose from ^saygood- 1 their new She had ^ was wise ^ to make advice of constantly Jn search prepared, ■unk of a 1^, it Was event of long in ame on d a few iives in iveaker » down grether oming 5ason- T//£ (J (ZEE A' BEES. 17 able enough to say she could, but she had sliown a great want of order and management. She did not set the right bees in the right places. In the old time thero were regular overseers who set them their work and particular tasks, and no one interfered ; but now, when the labourers came to thp Queen she set the honey-makers to build the cells, and the makers of the bee-bread to pound the wax, the gatherers of the pollen from the flowers to get the honey, so that all was confusion. No one knew what to do, nothing was well done, and there was great waste of time and material. The honey-makers had no cells fit to hold the honey when they 'came home with it, the wax was badly made, the bees were hungry and out of humour, and all blamed the poor Queen. At last they fretted and harassed her so much with their complaints, that she fell sick and died. There was no one left then to iTile and govern the bees. They had no honey laid up in store for the winter when the frost and snow caine, so they perished from cold and hunger. It was not so with the hive bees. The new Queen that had been despised by the young swarm proved to be a most wise and careful ruler. She caused the cells to be mended and cleaned, had all the rubbish removed, and appointed careful ovei'seers for the 2 18 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. workei'H in their several departmentH. She saw *^ '' every place was well filled, everything done at uuo right time and in the right way, and plenty of food and honey stored up against the cold days of winter. This good Queen was so kind and thoughtful about the welfare of her subjects that she often warned the workers against wandering tcx) far away in search of honey, lest they should be overtaken by hungry birds, or heavy rains and high winds, wlien too far from the shelter of the hive. She knew how desirous some of her working bees were to please her and make the hive famous as giving the largest yield of honey for the season, and if they heard of a field of white clover or buckwheat, or a grove of fresh basswood trees in flower, many miles away from home, they would wing their way to gather honey to increase their store. She was often very unhappy when night came and these stragglers had not returned. Many accidents hap- pened, and she constantly warned her young bees never to go farther than two or three miles away. Some old strong workers would laugh at such advice, for they often flew as far as six miles away when the scent of the basswcwd blossoi .« was strong in the air. Many of these rash ones overloaded themselves, and fell an easy prey to the kingbird or the shrike. I ^ THE QUEEN BEES. 19 i\ \ •■■* Things went well in the hive under the gocxl Qiieen's i-ule. The nui*sei'y chambers were filled with eggs for tine swarms of new l>ees to be hatched out while the summer was yet warm, and one might have thought that nothing could happen to disturb tiie serenity of her reign. Suddenly, liowever, a report was circulated among the old bees that some thieves had enteivd the hive, and emptied a number of cells of the best and purest of the virgin honey. The rumour caused a great commotion, and the Queen called her oldest and wisest counsellors to- gether, to consider what was the best thing to be done. One of the ablest among them said that he had noticed idle gangs hanging about a distant hive, and as none of them seemed to bring home honey from the fields or gaitlens, they had been suspected of being a set of thievish vagabonds. His advice was, that two or three brave working bees should be set to watch at a little distance, and if any bees not loaded with honey or flower-dust entered the hive, the workera should give a signal at once to have them seized : or if any bees came out loaded with honey, they should attack them at once and call for help. This advice was taken and all arrangements made. 20 cor AND CHADLE STORIES, Not long after a party of sneak-bees were Heen creep- ing cautiouHly into the hive, where they soon were at work filling theniHelves with the contents of Horne of the best cells. Meanwhile some of the wax-W()rkei"s had filled up the sides of the door of the hive, so tliat an overloaded bee could not pass through without a siiueeze. This trap prevented the robbers from getting out. Then the enraged hive-bees set upon them, and a great battle tcK)k place, which ended in all the thievish bees in the hive being killed. A few terrified ones outside flew home to tell of the fate of their comrades. After that day no robber- bees ventured out to steal from t- at Queen's hive. There were other enemies Ixjsides the robber-bees. There were miller-moths that laid their eggs w^ithin the bee-house, the worm hatched from them doing great damage, more even than the mice did. Spiders, too, sometimes spun their webs across the door of the hive, and the unwary bees going forth got entangled in the meshes. I think had Mrs. Webspinner ventured to capture one of the good lively workers, she would have come off* second-best in the battle, a dozen angry bees with their stings all ready being always at hand to defend their comrades. Once a big snail crawled into the hive. It may have been to hide herself from some outside danger, i THE OUEEN BEES. 81 I from a pjanien t5 Precisely HvS Mr. Tick told thirty minuteH past four, Mr. Hum wound his horn and announced the approach of all the Butterflies. They came along in grand state, fanning the breeze with their gorgeous wings, and in such numbers that they darkened the air for the space of two or three yards as they flew. First came the Emperor, as befitted his rank, with his superb Empress by his side. Next cair*c the Swallow-tail, in a delicate suit of brimstone colour and black, with beautiful blue and red eyes on the edges of his wings. After him flew the Peacocks and the Admirals, the beautiful Embroidered and two most exquisitely dressed Painted Ladies. Several large green Lunars followed ; and last in size, though not in beauty, came the blue Adonis, the little dandy and beau of the ball. Besides all these there were the Orange-tipped, the Tortoise-shell, the Wood butterflies and many others of less note, who all followed at a respectful distance. General Sphinx sent his aide-de-camp, the Mag-pie Moth, with his compliments to their host, and to beg that he and his family might be excused until after sunset, as the glare of light was apt to injure their eyes, and to say that they would do themselves the pleasure of stepping in during the cool of the evening. The Bees sent a drone from the hive to say that as THE DRAGON-FLY AND HIS FRIENDS. 27 it was such a fine day they did not like to waste so many hours in idleness, but as soon as the flowers b'igan to close they would airange their dresses and join the dancers. They sent a present of some honey by the drone. This was most gratefully received, and Squire Bombybus asked tho bearer to stay and join the dance. " I shouM be delighted to accept your kind invita- tion," he replied, " but the fact is I never could move quickly enough to learn to dance even the slow minuet, but as I am a good bass musician when not hurried, I will be happy to help the band." Among the flies were the green and the brown Blow-flies (who, by the way, were only admitted out of respect to Mr. Buz); the Soldier-fly, with his red jacket; the Musk-fly, with a splendid new suit of crimson, green and gold ; the slender Wasp-fly, in his golden and black coat ; the green Drake-fly, dressed in emerald green and starry eyes ; the May-fly in her elegant gauze dress, and many others in robes trimmed with glittering spangles, whose names could not be learned owing to the fluttering and buzzing and humming that filled the air during the arrival of visitors from every quarter. Greatly to the annoyance of the more aristocratic ol" the company, a number of House and Horse-flies, 28 COT A.XD CRADLE STORIES. JIM well as oth«r common flies, crowded into tho asHembly. All attempts to expel these intruder were in vain, as they concealed themselves under tlie leaves of the oak tree. The Wasps, who are always ready for ji fray, proposed making a general slaughter of them, but Mr. Buz, having a kindly feeling for his poor relations, petitioned that they might be allowed to remain if they promised to keep at a respectful distance and did not intrude among the grandees. The request was granted, and the flier4 gratefully accepted the condition. They soon formed reels and cotillons, a few light, lively airs, piped by a band of gnats from the lake-shore, and ^the bagpipes, played by a drone, providing excellent music. Of Beetles there was a great attendance, many dressed in gorgeous and shining attire ; tho great red Lady -bird and the spotted yellow Lady-bird, besides a number of black beetles both large and small. They all displayed suits of delicate gauze, which few people knew they possessed, as they are in the habit of keeping them carefully folded up, seldom showing them on common occasions. Some anger might have been excited by the pres- ence of that insect of evil reputation, the Earwig, but being disguised in a long and very fine pair of gauze wings, few recognized him, and he passed in the crowd. THE DRAGON-FLY AND HIS FRIENDS. 29 111 Later in the evening Mr, Twirl, the cockchafer, came with his family, and the Bees, having brushed their black velvets and cleaned themselves from any wax or honey that might have stuck to them, also made their appearance. They did not dance much, but willingly lent their aid to the musicians. Just as the dancing commenced, a bustle and chirj)- ing was heard, and a number of Locusts and Grasshop- pers skipped lightly into the midst of the company ; some in brown and pink, others in green hunting coats. One of the latter, named Gryllus, leaped over the heads of a party of Copper Beetles (who were chat- ting to some young Lady-birds, engaging them for a country dance), and presented himself before tlie great green Dragon-fly to request that he might be allowed to take part in the next set. Mr. Chirp, the cricket, seconded the request, assur- ing their host that the grasshoppers and locusts were, like the crickets, the best horn -pipe dancers and singers in the country. Their host having graciously granted the petition, the whole party sprang off to look for partners. Scarcely had this matter been satisfactorily settled when a dispute arose over the intrusion of a band of Harvestmen and Harry-longlegs. Mr. Chirp hurried forward to interpose ami do his 30 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. duty as steward. With his most dignified chirrup he represented to them the impropriety of persons of their low degree thus tlirusting themselves upon those who filled a higher station. Upon this a Harvestman stood on tiptoe and asked what he meant. " In the first place," said he, with a spiderish grin, " I am seventh or eighth cousin to Mr. Tick, the death-watch, and I am considcied one of the best dancers of the present day. Indeed, I will not yield the palm to any but my friend Harry-longlegs, who can dance a minuet on the water, and has the honour of being the great-grandfather to the minstrels." On hearing this, Mr. Chirp thought he had better not run the risk of giving oftence to the minstrels by putting a slight on their great-grandfather : then, too, Mr. Tick, who was a ticklish sort of old fellow to deal with, might walk off in a Kuff and leave the com- pany without the means of knowing the time of day. Dancing now commenced with great spirit on every side. The ball was opened by the great green Dragon-fly and one of the Painted Ladies, who all were agreed was the belle of the ball. The Butterflies fluttered through the quadrilles in fine style; the Beetles preferred country dances, and while Mr. Twirl, the cockchafer, arranged a reel of THE DRAGOX FLY AND HIS FRIENDS. ni bv t/ too, ^ to corn- day, on ifreat dies, The fine and 1 of eight over the oak tree, the Harvestnien went througli the figures of a mstic dance with great skill and grace. The pleasure of the evening wtisa little disturlK'd by the bad behavi(3ur of the Hornets and Wasps. They crowded around the honey and sweets, and when Mr. Hum and his assistant, Mr. Buz, begged them to desist — for thev feared lest there would be none of the dainties left for the rest of the company — they darted out their long stings and threatened a regular battle. It was not until the Dragon-fly appeared that tliese ill-behaved guests could be induced to return to the dance. They did so in so bad a temper that they quarrelled with their partners, killed two or three honest black Beetles who chanced to stand in their way, and maimed several flies in so cruel a manner that all chance of the poor things ever being able to dance again was quite despaired of. Finally, having made themselves as disagreeable as possible, they left the ball to go marauding in the Squire's garden. It was little to be wondered at if they were followed by the hisses and maledictions of the whole party. As soon as the dew began to fall the Butterflies proposed going home, to the regret of all, especially the Dragon-fly, who tried to persuade tlieni to stay 32 cor AND CRADLE STORIES. I anotliev hour. The pnident Emperor, however, wisely declined to risk the health and appearance of aii}'^ of his train, and left at the time they had appointed. Some few .silly little Butterflies, who had not been hatched many hour.s, refused to obey his summons. Hidinff themselves under the leaves until the last fluttering of papilio wings had died away in the distance, they came out again and rejoined the dance. The green Dragon-fly lamented the tleparture of the Painted Lady, but roused himself to receive General and Mrs. Sphinx, who just then arrived. They were very richly dressed, chiefly in crimson and brown, with plumes of feathers on their heads. Some of the members of their train were really magnificently attirea, especially the Tiger Moths. There were also some young ladies among ohem in robes of exquisite whiteness, entirely composed of ostrich feathers, a costume that was most becoming to their black eyes and fair complexion. The Death's-head Moth, to be sure, produced a slight chill on his arrival, but this was politely attributed to the falling dew. Mr. Hum introduced the Sphinx party to the Dragon-fly, Squire Bombybus having disappeared from hia post as Steward. Indeed, it was rumoured among the guests that he hatl drunk too much nectar, THE DHAGOS FLY AX J) HIS FK/EXI)S. 33 and hati retii*ed to the shelter ot* a white water-lily on the lake, lis he had l)een seen pulling on his black velvet night-cap very near the place where the lilies f^rew. Mr. Chirp thoujjjht it wise to exalt Mr. Hum to the dignity of Deputy Steward, in the place of the dejmrted Sijuire Bonibybus. As soon as it wtis dusk a brilliant display of light was provided by four dozen Fire-flies that had been hired for the occasion. These lovely moving lamps shed a soft refulgent glory on the scene, those sta- tioned on the lake-shore adding greatly to the effect by the reflection of their bright beams on the surface of the water. The stai-s alx>ve and the glow-worms on the dewy gmss beneath formed an illumination, the brilliancy of which could only be realized by those who were present at the fete. After supper the dancing was resumed with una- bated enjoyment. In spite of Mr. Tick's warning of the lateness of the hour, and that evil pei-sons were about, the nightingale's song from the thicket near by sounded so sweet and made such an addition to their band of music that no one cared to break up the party. It w^ould have been well for those giddy insects if they had listened to the warning voice of good Mr. Tick, the death-watch. Just as the Dragon-fly was 3 34 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. whirling through a waltz with one of (General Sphinx's daughteni, a sudden rushing sound was heard. The music ceased. Terror and dismay made the heart of every insect ((uake, as, attracted by the sound of revelry, three nightingales and a swarm of bats bore down upon them. A most dreadful slaughter ensued. Those who escaped the beaks of the nightingales fell an easy prey to the teeth of the bats, who swept them down on every side with their flapping wings. The glow-worms, betrayed by their own light, were pounced upon by the nightingales, who soon made an end of them despite their cries for mercy. The great green Dragon-fly was found next morn- ing, a floating corpse on the bosom of the lake, where he had either thrown himself in a fit of despair or been swept down by the wings of the bats. When the Bees and Butterflies heard the sad \a^^ they rejoiced that they had gone home in proper time, and thus escaped the melancholy fate of the thought- less, giddy creatures, who, in the midst of their gaiety, had fallen a prey to the bats and the night- ingales. mint Min^'0 Dream. Where '8 the blind child ho boAUtiful and fair, With guileless dimples and with flaxen hair, That waves in every breeze ?" —Blirmjield. LriTLE Willy had not always been blind. A severe attack of scarlet fever, when he was four years old, had so affected his eyes as to destroy their sight. " My eyes fell asleep," the child would say when anyone spoke kindly to him about it, "and never woke again." That was the way he put it ; and few, looking into the sweet, happy face of the child, could realize that the light was shut out forever from the blue eyes. They had a fixed, strange look in them, as if they were gazing on some far-off object which never came 36 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. any nearer ; but they were open and as blue as ever. Willy was one of the happiest of children ; no one ever saw him crying or fretting. He had a smile for everyone, and everyone loved and cared for him. His little hands seemed to take the place of his eyes. He rarely stumbled or fell ; his fingers, spread at the tips, were his guides, and so fine was his touch that he knew the nature of every object, and even avoided obstructions as if he felt their presence before he touched them with the sensitive little fingers. As he grew older he ran about as fearlessly as any of the other children, his sense of hearing helping him to know when anyone was coming towards him, and enabling him thus to prevent running against them. Besides his elder brothers and sisters, Willy had two great friends whom he loved very dearly. One, and I think the dearer — though Willy never allowed that one was any dearer to him than the other — was a shaggy little Scotch terrier. From under the long hair which hung over his eyes. Jack (for that was his name) watched his master with a great love. Jack never left Willy for long at a time. He watched every movement, and seemed to know exactly what he wanted and where to run before him and keep him away from I'ough places. The other nUND WILLY S DREAM. 37 was a snow-white pussy cat. Willy called her " Owny. " An odd name it was for a cat, but Willy said she was his " very own," and there could be no better name for her than " Owny." lliese three spent many an hour together, and it was a pretty sight to see the golden-haired child sitting on the grass or among the flowers, his soft, white pussy clasped in his arms and rubbing her head lovingly against his face, w^hile the faithful terrier lay at his feet, keeping watch and ward to obey the little master's slightest wish. Willy loved the sunshine ; he felt its warmth, and it seemed to shine right down into his heart and out again in his happy smile and joyous laughter. He knew that " God is love," and it kept that love ever c shining bright within. This was what made them say that Willy was " the sunbeam in the house." Willy had been told all about the flowers, and he loved them dearly, touching them tenderly and weav- ing many a tiny garland of the daisies he gathered from among the grass. He heard the birds singing, and knew all their songs one from another. He asked a great many questions about the things he could not see, and as he was a bright, clever little fellow, and remembered what he was told, his mother and sisters and 38 COT AND CR/^DfJt STOR/KS. brothers wero never wearied by his questions : they sometimes wondered how it was he remembered so much. They did not know that he remembered because he wanted to learn all about the birds and flowers and trees, and did not ask the questions merely from idleness, as many children do who have their eyes to answer such questions for them. Then Willy thought over what he was told, and in that waj?" impressed it so upon his mind that people said he had a good memory. Willy had not altogether forgotten what he saw before the fever sent his eyes to sleep. He knew the sky was blue, and that white fleecy clouds chased each other across the wide, wide heavens. He remembered that there was a loving look in his mother's eyes, and that they were more beautiful than anything else in the world. He heard the wind among the tree-tops, and knew that some of these were very tall and high, almost touching the blue of the sky. He knew that the roses which grew so thickly over the wall were bright red, as well as very sweet to smell. He knew that the lily was white as snow, and that his dear " Owny " was white, too ; that the velvety pansy growing in the borders was of many lovely colours, and that faithful Jack's long hair was a yellowy, b>'Owny shade. BUND WlLLrs DREASf. ni) He could sec pictures of them all, he Haid, when they told him about them, and Willy's mind-pictures were as real to him as the things themselves are to us as we see them with our eyes. But it was in his sleep, lie said, that he saw every- thing best. In his dreams the birds and the beasts, the insects and the flowers, all had voices for him and for each other.. He could understand what they said, and sometimes he thought they were all really alive like himself. The older children often laughed at Willy's odd notions, but they were always ready to listen to and be amused by his wonderful dreams. It was like reading stories of Wonderland or fairy tales, they said. One day in June, the sun was shining brightly as Willy sat on the grass by the side of the house. He threw his head back that the warm rays might fall on his upturned face. His mother passing him laid her hand on his brow and asked, " Is my boy happy in the sunshine ? " " Oh, yes, mother," he said, as he caught her fingers and patted them softly ; " it is so lovely, just as if it was kissing me." "Tell me what you dreamt last night," said his sister Nellie, as, tired from her walk home from school, she threw herself down on the grass beside \Ht C^<;«u- »C IC. J^l<:< HLL\D WILLVS DHEAM. 41 i liiin. " You kx>k so bright, 1 know you must be thinking of something nicer than usual. " And Willy turning to her smiling, told his dream : " I saw a beautiful lake, and the Queen of the lake was a big white bird. She was a wild swan, and she loved the bright water, and all the big fishes and the little fishes, and the wild ducks and the geese, and she loved the water-lilies that grew in the lake, and said they were pretty and sweet. She loved the wild rice, too, for it made good food for her and for the poor hungry Indians that gather it, and she cared for the May-flies and the dragon-flies, and was good to every- thing that was on the lake, as well as the flowei-s that grew on the banks of the green grassy meadow, for she was a good Queen was the white swan, and all her subjects loved her. " Well, you must know, a wicked man came in a boat. He had a long gun, and he shot the beautiful swan and carried her away in his boat. There was great sorrow on the lake because the white swan, the Queen, was dead and gone — and they all said, ' Who will be Queen now ? ' " The big bull-frog put up his ugly head and croaked out in his harsh voice, * I'll be King of the lake ! ' But the big fishes said, * No, we will not have you. You eat our little ones. You are rude and ugly. 42 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. and have a loud voice. Go back to your inud-lmnk again.' " Then the bull-frog gave a croak and went away, for though he was very bold in speaking, he was afraid some big fish might open his mouth and eat him. " A beaver cam^ out of his dam, r.nd said he wanted to be King of the lake ; but the fiah all said they woula not have him either, as he > /ould soon spoil the beautiful lake with his building. And tl musk-rat and the otter were all bad subjects. They would be as bad as the beaver, so the fishes would not listen to them. " Then a great loon came swimming along, and he said, ' Let me have charge of the lake, and I will not let any beavers, or musk-rats, or otters come into the waters ; only such things as are good for the geese and ducks and fish to live upon.' " But the fish would not have the loon to rule, as they said he was a selfish fellow, who would think only of himself. " Before anyone could speak there was a great flap- ping of wings overhead, and a great osprey flew down from a tree that hung its branches over the lake. All the ducks and the geese, and all the other birds, even the kingfisher, flew away, for they were afraid of the lil.ixn U'/LI.rs DREAM. 4.S fish-hawk. The lf)on, who is a diver, went under the water like a flasli, so that the keen eye of the fierce bird could not see where he went. The only one that was not quick enough to gt away was the fish that had been talking. The greedy fisli-liawk cauglit him and carried him off in his talons. " Presently the great green Orai^on-fly, who had thrown off the warm cloak he had worn while shel- tered by the roots of the white water-lily at the bottom of the lake, and now sat sunning himself on the smooth surface of her large green leaf, spread his gauzy wings to dry in the warm rays of the sun. Looking about him with his bright eyes, he saw that all the creatures on the lake were sad and sorrowful, grieving that they had no Queen to make laws for the protection of the newly hatched dragon-flies and May-flies and shad-flies. " ' Our good old Queen, the white swan, is dead ! ' they cried, ' and we have not found anyone to be Queen of the lake.' " * Then I will choose a queen for you,' said the dragon-fly, * the pure white water-lily, who is wise as she is fair. She left her crystal palace this morn- ing at break of day, and came up like a bride to meet the glory of the rising sun. He filled her lap with gold and sweet perfumes, and wrapped her round 44 COT AXn CRADLE S'lOKJES. with ivory whiteness, and decked her with gems of light nice rare than iTibies or diamonds. Im she not worthy to be our Queen ? Has she not been a nursing mother in her care of us under the water when we were weak and helpless ? * " All the other water-flowers bowed their heads and said, ' Yes, we too will have the sweet white water-lily to be the Queen of the lake.' " Then there was a great clapping of wings among the May-flies, the young dragon-flies, the shad-flies, and thousands of silvery winged moths and shining beetles who had all lain at the bottom of the lake, shut up in their hard prison-like little cases under the shelter of the roots of the water-lily, and were now waiting for flight into the gay sunbeams on shore, and they all cried out, * The White Lily shall reign over us ; the White Water-lily i:: our Queen ! ' " And she looked so lovely and so stately that I am sure she would make a very good Queen," added Willy. " It made me very happy, too, to have such a nice dream." What did blind Willy do when the days were cold or wet, and he could no longer sit on the grass in the sunshine among the flowers ? While his brothers were away at school all day, or out with other boys at play, would Willy be lonely and dull and fretful ? BLISD WILLIS DREAM. 45 t ' No! he lived in too bright a world of his own to he dull and fretful. He had his faithful Jack and dear Owny to talk to, and he was so deft with his Hnjijers that he was a great help to his mother. He could pare the apples for pies and puddings, beat the egos for the cakes she made, and bring in the wood and water from the shed. When his mother went to the village, Willy carried her bag or basket and made himself useful in many ways. His mother, when she was young, had seen how the blind people worketl in a great hospital in England, and sne taught Willy to make baskets and knit stockings and warm muf- flers for winter wear for his brothers and himself. Willy was never idle. He loved to plait the sweet- scented grass that the Indian women use in some of their basket work. The name of the grass is " Holy Grass," and in some countries it is used to strew (iver the floors of the churches. Willy's plaits were given to his sister Nellie to make into dinner mats. He was very fond of music, and could whistle a tune very correctly. One day a gentleman heard him, and brought him a flageolet, a sort of small flute. Willy soon learned to play pretty airs and hymn- tunes on it, and it was a great delight to the blind boy. One hope was the brightest thought in Willy's 4G COT AND CRADLE STORIES. I iniiul, and it wan one that made iiiin most content with his lot. When anyone pitied him for being blind, he would raise his face with a bright smile and say, " Oh, never m'nd, when I die and God takes me to heaven, He will give me new eyes and I will see all the beautiful things in His garden, and oh! won't that be glorious !" and a ray from the truest sunshine gloriiied the sweet face and made it very beautiful. Willy was indeed one of God's own children, a lamb of the Good Shepherd's fold, and he knew and loved the Good Shepherd who cared for him. itent )eing ! and j8 nie 1 see ivon't fihine ul 3n, a T and JSett? t)olt*6 Stor?* BETfY Holt was my i.iother's old nun^e. She was a very old woman when I was a child. She had been nurse to my mother, and to all my uncles and aunts, and was very good and kind to all little children. She v,'as grand at telling stories and singing old ballads, chanting rhymes and teaching wise proverbs which she had listened to when she was a child. There are not many old women like Betty Holt in these days. Betty was not dressed as women folks dress now- a-days. She wore a great high-crowned cap, with a very narrow border which met under her chin. Round the front of the cap she had a broad black ribbon with a bow tied just over the right ear. Her large flowered chintz gown was open at the waist to 48 cor AM) CRADLE STOKf/lS. \ \ show H HpotlesH wliite kerchief: below the skirt you could Hce a broad striped blue or ^'een stuff' petti- coat, and above it an apron of white linen witli a finely plaited border. Her shoes were of black velvet, pointed at the toes with bright steel buckles, and had high red heels. These were her best shoes, but in the nursery she wore grey list slippers. The sleeves of her gown were short, only just meeting the top of her long, grey mittens — not gloves, as she had no fingers to them, for she used to say, " My dears, muffled cats catch no mice." Betty was not a pretty womau, but she was always orderly and neat as a new pin. She never had a husband, yet was very fond of children, and having lived so many, many years in our grand- mother's family, she loved us all as much as if we had been her own children — and we were all very fond of old Betty. We had heard all her stories over and over again, but would stop crying or quarrelling to listen to them again. She used to sing us long ballads, such as " Lord Thomas and Fair Ellen," or the sad story of " The Babes in the Wood," or " Chevy Chase," or the doleful story of " Death and the Lady," or " Barbara Allen." But we loved best to listen to and learn hymns ab<^ut (iod, and hear the old, old story of the BITTY HOLTS STOKV. 49 Lord JeHUH when He came to die for uh. WnttH' beautiful *' Cradle Hymn " was a fjreat favourite, and we dearly loved to liHten to it. Betty ma give them such flower seeds and roots as they asked for ; but they were not to help themselves or meddle with his borders. The children were very well satisfied with this arrangement, and they ali agreed to be good and not vex the old gardener. Agnes, the eldest of the children, was about ten years old. She set to work diligently, and this was how she laid out her garden : She first strewed the dividing path which lay between her plot and Sara's with white sand from a heap in tlie yard. This was a good plan, as it kept the path neat and nice if it rained ever so hard. Then she got Peter the gardener to give her a bit of cord. The ends of the cord she tied fast to two sticks, one of which she stuck upright in the centre of the bed, and with the other drew a circle about four feet across. Then she drew four straight lines from the centre of the circle to the outer edge ; thus dividing the round bed into four equal parts. An- other large circle beyond the first, with a path between, gave her four comei beds of equal size, as the whole plot was a square. Agnes had used her garden- line and sticks much in the way she had seen her father strike circles with his compasses, fixing one leg of the compass in the 50 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. paper and using the other, which held the pencil, to mark the exact figure on the paper ; the end of her Htick made the same mark in the soft earth. In the very centre of the round, Agnes planted a lovely pink rose. The gardener brought it himself an] put it in for her, he was t^o pleased with the neat way in which she had laid oat her garden ground. A border of double daisies, red, white and pink, were next planted round the outer edge. In one quartering she planted pansies of many colours, and in another phlox ; in the third, the blue nemophila, and in the fourth were portulaca of all colours. Thus the middle bed was filled with very pretty flowers, though as yet they were not in bloom. In the corner beds she had other flowers planted, but I cannot remember their names, only that later in the summer there were China asters and some geraniums. Agnes was a sensible girl, you see ; she waited with patience for the blooming of many of the plants she put into the ground. Sara's garden was next to her sister Agnes's, and Sara said : " Mine is to be a useful garden, not all for show." She laid out her bit of ground in straight beds, and planted the sweet and fragrant lemon-thyme in one bed, sweet marjoram in another, curled parsley THE FIVE LITTLE GAKDEXERS. 'U in a third, and suinmer savory in a fourth ; then she had a sage bush or two and a bush of sweet lavender, and a row of wallflowers and stalks set back against the brick wall. This was Sara's garden, and the old gardener laughed and said : " Well, Miss Sara, you'll make a rare good housewife for some good husband one of these days." Then he brought her a root of pepper- mint and a bit of bergamot, and said : "Now, Miss, you have the sweetest garden in the place." Jane's garden. Well, Jane was six years old, and she thought she would have something very nice for her garden ; so she planted two currant bushes with the green fruit on them in the middle, then a big peony and a hollyhock, and some cowslips and prim- roses, and the rest of the bed she filled in with wild strawberries and a lot of other things, wherever there was room for anything. She would not take pattern by Agnes's or Sara's gardens, but liked to do things as she chose herself. Katie's garden. Katie was only four years old, and she was not very wise, as you will find when you hear how she made her garden. She began by making a puddle with water from the pump, then she brought a lap-full of daisies and buttercups from the meadows, and stuck the flowers in rows over the i 58 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. soft ground. Katie thought it looked very pretty and ran to call her father to see what a lovely flower garden she had made. But her father only laughed and said : " Katie, your flowers hav(» no roots : they will all be faded to-morrow." Katie would not believe this, but when the sun canie out next day, by noon all the flowers drooped and hung their heads, so she pulled them up and got fresh ones; but they faded, too, and day after day it was always the i?ame. Then she said : " I will sow seeds as Peter does." Katie went to the cook and said : " Please, Anne, I want you to give me some rice, and some pearl barlej^ and some coffee." Anne thought she wanted these things to play with, so gave them without asking any questions. Katie ran away to her garden, and making some lines in the soil vith a stick, planted the rice and barley and the few coffee-beans. When she told Jtne what a flne thing she had done in planting the ^hings Anne had given her, Jane made great fun of her, and Agnes and Sara, too, laughed at the wee Katie's garden. This made the child very angry, and she said she would not do anything more to her garden ; so it grew only weeds till Agnes took pity on it, cleaned it up, and sowed mustard and cress and THE FIVE LITTLE GARDENERis. 50 radish seeds, which came up ijuickly, and then Katie was very hapj)y. Susie, the youngest, must have her garden, too, as well as her sisters, but she was a verj' odd child, and you shall hear what she did with the piece of ffroun*! next to Katie's acrainst the brick wall. She got an old trowel from the garden-house, and set to work to dig a great hole in the ground. When she was tired and hot, Katie came and took a turn at the digging, and helped her to carry away the earth and make a heap with it farther off. The two little folks agreed to plant two ripe cherries in the hill they had made, and they said : " We shall have two big cherry-trees next year, with plenty of nice red cherries to eat for ourselves ; " and then they went to work again digging at the hole in the ground, making it bigger and deeper. " What are you making that hole for, children ? " asked their father as he watcl ed them at work. " We are digging to find a treasure," said Susie. " What sort of treasure do you expect to get out of that hole ? " "Gold and silver and beautiful things," replied Susie. " But gold and silver do not grow in places like your garden, Susie." 60 COT A. YD CRADLE STORIES. *' You wiid they oame out of the earth, deep, deep •lown, and we are going to dig till we find them," was Susie'H decided answer as she went on digging. But Susie never found the treasure she worked so' hard for that day, so many years ago. But in the years that followed she found a better treasure than either gold or silver or precious stones — treasures which never rust nor decay, which the Lord our God will give to those little ones who love Him and their blessed Saviour. EDITOR'S NOTE. For older readers a knowledge of the future of the five little gardeners may add interest to the foregoing story. Agnea revealed her character in the methodical plan of her garden. Authoress of the Royal biographies, many poems, his- torical tales and several novels, she accomplished an enormous amount of work, writing her " Lives of the Queens of Scotland " only a few chapters ahead of the printers, while at the same time she was fulfilling numerous social engagements, keeping up a large private correspondence, and accomplishing some of the finest and m<»st laborious fancy work. Her systematic way of arranging her time enabled her to do much more and better work than she otherwise could have done. The old gardener's prophecy as to Sara's future was a true one. Of the five sisters she was the only one who never wrote. She was the housekeeper of the family, and married the vicar of a large parish in the north of England, a rich man, who entertained a great deal — both his friends and the poor of his parish — and Sara was indeed "a rare good housewife to a good husband." THE FIVE LITTLE GARDENERS. fil deep Jane'H garden was also in a ouriuus way an index of her lifu. She wrote many things on many subjects, her gamut ranging all the way from witty squibs to erudite histories and religious tnict^H. Her store of knowledge, apparently inexhaustible, was yet a kaleidoscopic collection of valuable material. Her love of colour was without artistic arrangement, but grand in its almost barbaric detiance of the rules of art. Of Katie's garden we can truly say, thit in her choice of the buttercups and daisies of the home meadows, she fore- shadowed her love for the wild-flowers and ferns, and the valu- able work she has done in bringing our Canadian jlora to the knowledge of the world. All through life she has gathered gifts of her Heavenly Father day by day, and when the hot noonday sun of sorrow faded them, she has but turned again to the garden of her trust to replace them. She has owed much to the kindly help and sympathy of others, and has been ever as grateful as she was to Agnes when she sowed the useful mustard and cress in the garden under the wall. Susie, who was possessed of the greatest of all gifts, the priceless gift of true genius, was ever questioning the reason of things, ever digging deep into the well of the knowledge of life, ever seeking for the treasure of truth, and tinding it in increas- ing beauty and wealth in the Book of Life. Generous, enthusi- astic, a brilliant conversationalist, a true poet, and a graphic writer, Canadian literature owes much to her influence and her pen. a (Barben parti?. During le absence of our eldest sister and the long confinement of our father to the house from the gout, the attention of our mother was devoted to his sick- room, consequently we younger ones were left a great deal to ourselves. In fact, we ran wild, spending the chief part of our time in play about the old-fashioned garden and plantation which bounded the west side of the pasture-fields beyond the orchards and gardens. We had no playmates of our own class, a fact which we lamented greatly, for we were sociable young folks. We had playmates, though, the acquisition of which led to a scene ludicrous to the onlookers, though serious enough at the time to the actors therein. I was nine and Susie seven years old, an age when I M A GARDEN PARTY. 6.S children are rarely gifted with much discretion, and we were certainly no exceptions to the rule ; and in this instance our family jride was in abeyance, for we fonned a great friendship with a i^ustic lad and his sister Anne. The boy's name was Jonathan Spilling, but on account of his figure being very short ami stout, he was known in the house by the familiar name of " Punch." Now, Punch was not really a bad boy. He was a sort of Gideonite that served them all in turns — cowboy, swineherd, hewer of wood and drawer of water, errand-boy, collector of eggs and feeder of poultry, gardener's assistant, and in the .'-eason of sowing of grain his daily business from " morning dawn to evening grey " was to run up and down the fields with a wooden clapper in his ha»^ds, and raise his voice to scare away the rooks and crows from preying upon the new-sown wheat and other grain. The sounds that he gave forth on such occasions I fear I should be unable to convey to the minds or understanding of my readers. Punch's w^aming cry was something between an Indian war-w^hoop and the yell of a catamount, and ended in a peculiar warble which was inimitable by any other throat than that of an accomplished Suffolk bird-lwy. 64 COT AND CRADLE S 7 OAVES. It was not the musical talents of Punch nor the shrill treble of his sister Anne that attracted our intimacy, but the fascinations of the bird-boy's hut. It was scooped out of a sand-bank, below the shelter of the quick-set hedge, and in front of it he had laid out a miniature garden, edged with red and white double-daisies and di\ ided by tiny sanded walks. The walls of the hut were adorned with strings of birds' eggs, disposed in graceful festoons. A fire of dry turf burned on the mud floor, in the embers of which were roasted potatoes, appetizingly ready for the guest and smelling good. Added to these were crab-apples, sloes and nuts from the hedge-rows, set out on a clean piece of board supported on four pegs to serve for a table, and two stools of similar construction for the honored guests. Was there ever a more charming picnic than this, got up especially for our entertainment ! And to crown all, a somersault executed by the master of the ceremonies, Punch himself. The programme was as follows : First performance, balancing on one foot and one hand alternately : second, spinning round like a wheel ; third, standing head downwards, heels upward ; and as a grand ^-n-aie, a somersault and leap-frog over Anne's head and shouldei's. A GARDES PARTY. 65 Punch's talents as an acrobat were not unappreciated by his guests. In return for such entertainments and hospitality could we do less than invite our host and hostess to a feast of plums, apples and currants in the garden, taking good care to keep out of sight of the parlour windows. Our stolen friendship with the children of the old farm bailiff lasted for many months, but was termin- ated suddenly by an act of great imprudence on our part. During the winter and early spring we had been indebted to Punch for several valuable treasures — a stiing of rare birds' eggs, hawks' and kites'; a tomtit's nest with ten tiny eggs in it, and two night- ingale's eggs; and in our abundant sense of the obligation we invited him to a feast of green goose- berries and currants. Now, it happened that our father, who was a great connoisseur in fine fruit, had raised a seedling goose- berry which promised to exceed in size any in the garden, and as ill-fortune befell us, it was this very bush we hit upon as the one from which to provide the feast. During the progress of the entertainment, my brother Sam took offence at me for some slight, and 66 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. ran off with the tale to my father, who had just come into the garden, that "Miss Kate and Susan were stealing the seedling gooseberries and giving them to Punch to eat." The next moment we heard our father's angry voice sternly bidding us to go instantly out of the garden to be punished for stealing the fruit and for playing with the cow-boy Punch. I was so seldom in disgrace that I felt the angry rebuke dreadfully, and sobbing and trembling, 1 shrank away under the stern looks and reprimand, not daring to say a word in defence of my conduct. Susie bore it more stoically. Then the delinquent Punch was summoned from the kitchen, sternly re- proved and this fearful sentence pronounced upon him, that he, " the green gooseberry stealer and currant robber, should have his skin stripped over his ears and be hung at the market-cross in the town of Southwold, as a fearful warning to all bad boys not to steal green gooseberries." Now, Punch had borne his master's reproof with a stolid countenance, but this awful sentence was more terrible than being sent to jail, and the bucolic spirit was aroused. Wiping with the sleeve of his fustian jacket the tears that had started to his eyes, he burst out: "Ah, yah, Mr, Strickland, sir, .! A GARDEN PARTY. 67 you daren't do that! It would kill I, and then you'd be hanged for it." How frightened I felt at his daring to confront my father with these bold words ! I think it must have cost my father some effort to keep his countenance as the boy stood boldly before him. his grey eyes fixed unshrinkingly on his face, in defiance of the dread sentence. As for my mother and elder sisters, they could hardly keep from laughing at the boy's expanded eyes and resolute attitude. " Go, sirrah," said my father ; " be oflf with you, and don't let me see your face for a week." Punch pulled his forelock and disappeared, while my mother gently remonstrated with my father for so terrifying the poor culprit, at which he laughed and seemed to enjoy the spirit the boy had shown in replying so manfully to the threat. Not many minutes had elapsed before the old bailiff craved to speak a few words to his master, having heard that his son was not to come back for some time, as " he did not want him to be corrupting his children and teaching them to lie and steal." The old man stroked down his white hair and said, in reply to this, that he " thought it was his master's young ladies that had been 'krupting his decent- behaved son." 68 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. IS Now, this was a more stunning blow to our pride than could have been inflicted by anything my father could have said, and we went no more to play with Dur old friends, Punch and his sister. We declined every invitation to the bird-boy's hut, and resisted the tempting offers of roasted dainties or curious specimens of rare birds' eggs. The old man's words had cut too deeply to be forgotten ; we shrank from tlie thought of having to be answerable for Punch's delinquencies as well as for our own, and so played with him no more. H. 1 'A Icatie'a Secret Katie was only seven years old. She was a sunny, happy child, ntted by her older brothers and sisters, and was generally willing to share her pleasures with the younger ones until the unfortunate day when she had a secret to keep from them. How it all happened I will try to tell you, and it will show you how a hidden fault may be as bad as an untruth, as well as how easily little girls may be deceived by bad reasoning. One beautiful spring morning Katie was very busy weeding and planting in her own garden, when Johnnie, the gardener's son, came up beside her and said in a very low voice : " Miss Katie, look here what I have got, and it shall be yours if you li ce to have it." 70 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. I " What is it, Johnnie — a flower for my garden ? " " No, it iH much nicer than a flower — just take a peep at it," whispered Johnnie, as he opened the front of his blouse. Katie peered eagerly to see what he had hidden in his vest, and cried out with delight, " What a dear ! Is it a little hare ? " " No, Miss, it is a rabbit." " A dear little grey bunny ! Where did you find it ?" " I caught it just at the mouth of its burrow on the sand-hill beyond the garden," answered the boy, " and I will give it to you all for your own self to feed and play with if you will promise to keep it a great secret and not let your brother or Miss Susie know of it. They would soon kill it or let it run away to the hills again." Katie hesitated, but she wanted the little bunny for her own very much, it was such a beauty ; so when Johnnie said again, " I will not give it to you unless you promise not to let anybody know you have it, but keep it a secret, and say ' Honour bright.' " Foolish Katie did as Johnnie told her, and said " Honour bright," which meant she would keep the secret safe from everybody. She did not quite know why she should not tell Susie, but Johnnie said it would be such fun to keep it all to herself till the bunny had grown to be a big fellow. KATIES SECRET. 71 Then he told her he would put the little rabbit in an empty hogshead that was in the coach-house, and would keep the door locked except when he let her in to see it, and feed it with cabbage-leaves, and carrots, and paroley, and clover, and other green things that it liked. So it was all settled between them, and for a little while the mere thought of possessing the rabbit was a source of pleasure to Katie, only there was always the fear that the secret would be found out, and she had to be very careful lest her stolen visits to the coach-house should be suspected. She had to make KATIE AND HKR BUNNY, 72 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. I false excuses when she stole away from her sister and brothers when they were playing or working in their gardens. That was not the only trouble either. Johnnie would come to her often and slyly ask her for grapes and peaches or other fruit, which she had to get for him unseen by *; oJd gardener who had charge of the wall fruit. . e A',,a afraid to refuse, because Johnnie threatened to take the rabbit away or to tell she had it. She was now so fond of the pretty creature, and loved to watch its way so much, that she could not bear to think of parting with it. Katie called the bunny " G%by," and it seemed to know its name quite well when she called it. She loved to watch it skipping about, or eating the leaves she gave it out of her Iiands, or sitting up and wash- ing its face and long soft ears with its forepaws. She would have liked very much to show it to Tommy and Susie and share all this pleasure with them, but she had only Johnnie to talk to about the little pet. Sometimes Johnnie was cross and rude, or teasing, and when she wanted to see the rabbit he would say, " Oh, don't bother me," or he would turn the key in the lock of the coach-house door and go away, when she wanted to stay a little longer than usual with her pet. This vexed Katie a great deal, and so you see it was not all pleasure. One day Johnnie had left the key in the door, and KATIES SECRET. 78 ILatie, spying it, ran to look at her treasure ; but .10 Gaby was there to stand up and lick her fingers and rub his soft gi'ey head against her hand. The house was empty, nor could she see how the little creatui-e had managed to escape. She forgot that the tiny rabbit had grown during the time she had had him, and that his love of liberty had increased with his power to skip and jump and play in his house, and that he was now as strong as the wild rabbits on the grassy hills outside. There was no hole or cranny in his house through which he could squeeze his body, so he must have jumped out over the top of the walls of his prison. When Katie thought of this she hunted every part of the building to see if Gaby was hidden in some dark comer or empty box, but nowhere could she find her lost treasure. Then she thought perhaps Johnnie had taken it away to punish her for not supplying him with some of the fruit he had asked for, and she burst out crying as if her heart would break. While she was still sobbing and crying outside the coach-house door, she heard her brother calling her very loudly, " Katie ! Katie ! Come here and see what I have found in the garden." Katie ran with speed, for the sudden hope came to her that it might be her dear little rabbit. And it was the runaway. But alas ! he held the poor dying 'h |! 74 CO 7 AND CRADLE STORIED. little creature in his haiirlH juHt breathing its lant. Tommy had caught sight of the rabbit among the cabbages, and thinking he was doing a good deed in killing a wild rabbit that was doing damage in the garden, had struck it across the neck with a stick he had in his hand and given it its death-blow. THE DYING BABBIT. Katie cried out in her terror and grief at the sight of the dying rabbit, and throwing herself on the ground, sobbed and cried so passionately that her brother was quite bewildered, and asked her why she acted in such a strange way. " Oh, Tom," she said, between her sobs, " it was my own dear bunny, and you have killed it, you wicked boy." KAT/KS SEC/iET. 75 " Why, Katie, it wa« only a wild rabbit that was eating the young cabbages. " " No, no. it wasn't ; it was my little rabbit that 1 lovecl so much," she sobbed out, as she took the poor dead thing out of his hands. Then she told him the whole story, and Tonnny said : " Well, dear, I am soriy I killed the rabbit, but if you had not hidden the truth from us it would not have happened : and Johnnie was a bad boy to «leceive you so." Then Tom told Katie she had better go and tell their father all about it. This was very hard for Katie to do, but Tom said it was right and should be done, or more trouble might come of it. So Katie went and confessed all her fault to her father, and how she had stolen the fruit out of the vinery and from the walls to give to the naughty boy who gave her the rabbit. Katie's father was very loving and kind, and talked to her a long time, showing her the sin and the evil she had been led into, and the consequences that would have followed if she had continued unchecked in deceitful ways. Katie never forgot her father's solemn words as he laid his hand on her head and asked God to pardon her sin, and lead her ever in the path of truth. I 'I. fi ': I flDi^ge, tbe f lelNfDouae, an& 1>er familij. Midge, the field-mouse, lived in a pretty orchard, under the moss-covered roots of an old apple-tree. Her house was a very small one, but she had made it warm and cosy by lining it with dry moss and soft hay. A snug little house it was, with a granary in which she stored away acorns and nuts, kernels from the plum-stones, and pips from the apples she found in the orchard. Midge was a very industrious little housekeeper. She was always busy laying in supplies for her family, and she had no less than five little ones to feed. Her husband was dead. A wicked weasel, who lived in a bank just outside the orchard, had pounced upon poor Mr. Midge as he was picking up MIDGE, THE FIELD MOUSE. 77 nome peas the gardener at the mill had dropped while Mowing the spring cix>p, and so the brave little wife was left alone to provide for her five lielpleHs little ones. They were only two days old, and though the tiny things were blind and very bare-lo«^king, having as yet no soft fur on their bodies, Midge thought them "real beauties." She loved them dearly, for they were her very own, and she did not love them any less because they were blind and bare. She cuddled them up close to her to keep them warm, and even pulled the soft white fur from her own breast to cover them. Midge was much prettier than the common grey house-mouse, and living in the fields and among the dewy grass instead of in musty holes under boards and bricks, she was much cleaner in her habits. She had very round, bright black eyes, and two pretty little upright ears that looked like softly lined hollow shells. Her fur was a silky grey buff, except that on her breast, which was white as snow. Her tail was long, and her fore feet flat, and in these fore feet she could hold a nut or aii apple and eat it as the dor- mice and squirrels do. An old rat named Sly-boots, a distant relative of Midge's, lived in a bif' hole or burrow in the mill, 78 cor AND CRADLE STORIES. \ >; where he was a great nuisance to Bell, the miller, for he gnawed holes in the flooring of the granary, and bit the sacks that he might get at the wheat waiting to be ground, wasting and spilling more than he ate. The miller's man had set snares and baited traps, and laid poisoned bread and cheese about in Sly-boots' tracks, but the wise old rat took good care to keep his head out of snares, and his feet out of traps ; and having a very sharp nose for poisoned dainties, he only sniffed at them and passed them by. He was a selfish old fellov/, very boastful and vain, and not at all good-nL,£.ured. Sly-boots often stopped at Midge's door, and if she had a sweet apjjle or tasty nut he would help himself, without fcio much as a "by your leave." But as he was a relation, Midge put up with his want of good manners, and took as little notice of him as possible. One day when he called she was very busy with her family, and did not attend to him or offer him anytning to eat. This did not please him, and look- ing in at her children, he said crossly : " Dear me, Mrs. Midge, what a miserable set of pigmies you have there ! I would not own them if I were you. One of my ratlings would make four of such." "Are your little ones well, cousin, and are their eyes open yet ? " asked Midge, meekly. MIDGE, THE FIELD-MOUSE. 79 " Open ! Yes, indeed, I should think ho." " And have they their coats on, too ? " asked Midge. " Of course ! I wonder at you for asking such a question. Our ratlings are not bare like those niice- lets of yours," and with thevse spiteful words Mr. Slv-boots walked off. He did not wish to answer any more questions. He was neither kind nor truthful. Poor Midge felt very unhappy about her little ones ; she feared all was not right with them, and Sly-boots' rude w^ords made her heart ache with anxiety about her darlings. Three days after, while Midge was cleaning out her house — for work must be done no matter how sad she might feel — she heard a rustling noise close by. Peeping out she saw a funny-looking tiny creature standing upright among the bushes on a pair of very long, slender hind legs. Midge knew at once that it must belong to the Mouse family, and there- fore be some relation to her. It had a very small brown body supported on its slender long legs ; its two fore feet were so short and stuck so close to its breast that they looked more like hands than feet, and Midge wondered how it could walk on them. When her visitor saw her, he gave such a jump that he nearly went over her head. 80 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. Midge was startled, and cried out, " Squee ! squee !" The odd little creature turned round and said : " Oh, pray don't be frightened. Cousin Midge. I hope I did not touch you." " Oh, no ! " said Midge, pleasantly. She thought he had done it just in fun ; slie did not know that he was a jumping mouse, and that he always moved about in that way. Then the little stranger told her that he was called the " Jumper," because he skipped instead of walking or running like other mice. He could climb trees and even bare walls with his hands and sharp claws, and his long tail and flat feet kept him from falling when . he stood upright like a man. Midge was greatly pleased to see this new cousin, and they were soon good friends. Being very hospi- table, she brought her guest a nice sweet apple and two hazel-nuts, which he ate while they talked about their children and the difficulty of bringing them up well and providing food for them. Midge's little ones were lying still, covered up with a warm mat of moss and hay. Remembering what Sly-boots had said, she was very shy of letting her new friend see them, and made many apologies for their being so sleepy and stupid and not opening their eyes, regretting too that they had no nice gi'ey coats like her own. MIDGE, THE FIELD-MOUSE. 81 " How old are they ? " asked her visitor. " Seven days," said little Midge, sadly, for they seemed very old to her. " Seven days ! Is that all I Well, then, you need not trouble about it. All mice and rats and squirrels, and even some of our enemies, the cats and dogs, are blind when they are very young. Two days more and your little ones' eyes will be wide open." Delighted at being thus relieved of one anxiety, Midge uncovered her treasures that her friend might have a peep at them. " They are nice and fat and healthy-looking," said her cousin, " and as for their coats, they are growing finely. They will soon be as soft and silky as your own;" and Midge covered up her micelets again, hap- pier than she had been for days. " I must skip home now," said her visitor, " and look after my own household ; but I will come again and pay my respects to you and your family." " And where do you live ? " asked Midge. " My dear cousin, my nest is in a very high place, not on the ground under the roots of trees like yours. We Jumpers build nests of hay, roots and other such material as the little song-birds use, and we hang them between stalks of wheat or Indion coiTi, tying them so fast to each stalk that tliey cannot fall, A 82 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. |c i They ure like the cradles the women in the big houses put their babies in, but the wind rocks our baby Jumpers to sleep. Midge thought it must be very nice for the little ones, and as her cousin could stand up on his hind legs and look in at the uest, or climb up the corn- stalks by his sharp claws, it was all right for him, but it would never do for her to have such a high house. Then she reflected that even if she could climb up a corn-stalk, there was none growing in the orchard for her either to climb up or to tie a nest to. Midge told her friend of the cross speech made by Sly-boots, and asked if ratlings were bare when they were very young. " Of course they are, and blind, too," replied the Jumper, " and they are not nearly as nice-looking as either yours or mine. Now, good-bye, Cousir Midge," and with a hop, skip and jump he was oii md out of sight in a minute. It had been a very pleasant visit, and Midge was happy and lively thinking of the merry little mouse and his funny ways. How cleverly he managed to jump about on his long legs, and climb with his tiny hands ! Two days afterwards Midge had the joy of seeing five pairs of bright black eyes shining on her, and very soon the furiy coats began to show and feel as '' \ n MIDGE, THE hlELD-MOUSE. 83 Roft as the most exacting of mothers could desire : the white breasts looked just like babies' pinafores, and Midge wa." as proud and happy as a field-mouse could be. Whenever Midge went in search of food she covered up her nest with thistledown and grass, bidding her little ones lie still and not leave the nest, lest they should come to harm. She had noticed a big white owl, who lived at the mill, hovering about and looking from under the thick feathers that shaded her great eyes in daylight, and was afraid if she spietl one of the little mice she would swoop down and seize it ; so Midge gave a strict charge to her children not to go out to play in the moonlipjht, as owls see far better by night than they can by day. Now, it is a great pity that mice, as well as children, do not always obey their parents, for often as soon as the little mother-mouse was out of sight, these silly little creatures would scamper out and play at hide- and-seek in the grass. But I have not yet told you their names. Midglet, the eldest, was the best of the lot. Although she was rather greedy and tried to get the best of the food her mother brought, she was industrious and took great care of the house, keeping everything in it in good order. Dandy was a smart little fellow. He «iid not care » 84 COT AND CRADLE STORIES. I \ :: I, ' i to soil his coat or his hands digging roots in the orchard, and spent in brushin;i; his coat a good deal of the time in which he ought to have been at work. He said he meant to go out and pay visits where he would be courted and admired, and altogether he was a vain, silly little mouse. Grim, the third, was (juite different : he did not care enough about how he looked or how dirty he was. He would even kick Midglet when she tried to wash his dirty hands or brush his coat, and had been known to bite and scratch his mother when he was in a bad temper. Frisky was a good-iiatured, careless little mouse. She loved to play, cud was fonder of sittirjg and sunning herself among the daisies and buttercups then of helping her mother to find nuts or to dig the pips out of the apples the wind blew