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Kli

'BUN

COT AND CRADLE STORIES

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

<BYan6cbil&ten mb Great«6tanbcbilbten

THE AUTHORESS.

1 '^ /| n f^..f

EDITOR'S NOTE.

The editing of this collection of children'H storien
written by my great aunt, Mrs. Traill, has been a
pleasant privilege undertaken in order to relieve her
of some of the drudgery of preparing " copy " for the
press and to save her eyes the trouble of " catching
the foxes," as she quaintly terms the stripling out of
words or phrases too often repeated.

One or two of the stories are old friends, never
printed, but often told to a group of eager listeners
gathered at her knee — an audience who believed then
never was nor ever could be a more delightful story-
teller than Aunt Traill.

Of these, " The Sv/iss Herd-Boy and his Alpine
Mouse," the last in this volume, was always a great
favourite. Written when the author was not quite
sixteen, it was sold to a London publisher, but owing
to his death, and consequent changes in the firm, was
not published. Many years after it was re-written
from memc ry, and now makes its first appearance in
print among " Cot and Cradle Stories."

The initial story of " The Queen Bees " and " The
Wrens of * Westove ' " were written during the past
summer of 1895 ; the latter while I was staying with
the author on the Island of Minnewawa. It is a fact
worthy of note — one perhaps unique in the annals of

EDITOR'S NOTE.

book-making — that this volume from Mrs. Trail] 'h
pen, containing, as it does, stories written in 1818 and
in 1896, represents a broad space of seventy-eight
years of active literary life.

The following paragraph from a letter dated Nov.
1st, 1895, in which she replies to my wish to include
a story I had not found among the MS. sent me, is so
characteristic, I make no apology for quoting it :

" Among my rough copy I found some portions
of 'Tho English SpaiTOWs: their treatment in the
United States, and flight to Canada.' I could have
done something with the fragments had I not been
taken ill. It was the very article that had been so
marred by tlie mice; handfuls of the MS., the very
best of it, lay in chips in the drawer. Those hungry
varminta had devoured the most telling portions of
the tale, made beds of the most touching incidents
in the last hours of paterfamilias, after his loyal
exhortations to his numerous family to follow his
example, fight the Yankee birds, and die gloriously
under the ancient and honorable British flag, the
Union Jack."

No one has done more with her pen to inculcate
the principles of truth and honor, loyalty and patriot-
ism, and the love of nature in all its forms, than
Mrs. Traill.

Three generations of Canadian children have read
and loved her "Lost in the Backwoods," and her
gentle teaching will go down the ages to future gen-
erations with unabated influence in the pages of her

"Cot and Cradle Stories/'

PREFACE

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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,

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.

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.

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.

" 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<l
by those old fellows.' "

It was only too true, the young bees were in open
revolt. " We will have a Queen of our own," they
cried, *' and do as wc like. Let us go off at once to
the royal nursery and choose one."

So off they went to the royal cells. There were
only three young female bees there, the de/Jid Queen's
daughtera. One of the princesses was much larger
than the others, and the velvet of her dress finer and
brighter than the sober brown of her sistei-s* attire.

Of course the young bees all said, " We will have
this one for our Queen."

No one but a drone made any objection to the
choice, and no attention was paid to him when he
said, " This one is not the best for our ruler, she is
proud, and vain, and selfish ; she is fatter and finer
than the others because she always got the largest
share of the food and the best cell to live in."

The others di-ove him away and said, " We like
this one, she is the hanasomest," and then they all
paid homage to her as their Queen, and she buzzed
her thanks as they followed her out of the hive in a
great crowd, pushing and shoving very rudely in

<^or a:.o c^a^,^ storjes.

'"'■ool. They had not e" nth^" '"' '*' "^^ ^"^
bye to the old bec« a« th.V , ""'™ *" ^^ 8»«J-
Queen. ' "^ ""'^ ''"""^d off with theifZ

Now, the young Queen w^ ,

"•d no experience, and yet 117 ^^ ^^^ ^
enough to govern \,rll ""^''' '^^ *«" '-i'e

Ws for hef k J:: "~- -«-*« and to n,ake
-yone when she C i„ J /°" ""' """^ -^v,- of
' """de mistakes. *®'""*^- «> «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.

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

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.

THE QUEEN BEES.

\ •■■*

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.

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,

THE OUEEN BEES.

from a pjanien t<jad or Home voracioUH birri, ah it i«
hiinlly likely that a Hoail would be in Hearch of
honey or bee-bread : or it may have been just out of
curiosity to see how bees lived, that she ventured
into the little house.

However, she had no business there, and when she
was in she could not turn herself about to retreat,
when she heard a mighty buzzing and fuss all around
her.

The bees were in a great quandary how to get rid
of the great ugly beast. It was useless trying to
sting her, and she neither could nor would go, that
was plain; so they wisely went at once to their Queen
for advice.

" Bury the horrid creature," was all she could say.

They all clapped their wings and cried, " We will."

Without more ado they called the cell-builders and
the wax-makers and set them to work, saying, *' We
will soon make the abominable beast a house ; " so
they covered the big snail with a roof and walls of.
wax, and I dare say she may be sleeping there at this
day, a warning to snails to mind their own business
and stay at home.

There was a great deal of honey taken out of the
hive by the bee-keeper that year, and for three more
years the good Queen ruled well. She became the

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

nursing mother for many swarms of fine healthy
young bees, and at last died at a good old age.

All the hives in the neighbourhood were put into
mourning for her by the old gardener, who loved his
bees and knew all their ways. Her subjects raised a
white dome of virgin wax over her by way of tomb,
and Pat says it is somewhere in a secret place in the
garden known only to the bees and himself.

t \

althy

t into
d his
sed a
tomb,
1 the

ZTbc (Breat (Brecn Braflon^f l? an6
1bi0 ]frien&0.

On his return from his travels the great green
Dragon-fly sent cards of invitation to all his friends
and acquaintances, requesting the honour of their
company at a grand ball under the tall oak tree near
the lake in Stjuire Wildflower's Park.

The following regulations and particulars were
arranged by Mr. Buz, the blue-backed blow-fly, and
circulated by Mr. Hum, the big black beetle:

" The company are requested to arrive at four
o'clock precisely, and to assemble under the oak tree
near the lake. Dancing to begin fit a signal given by
Mr. Tick, the death-watch, who has kindly consented
to act as time-keeper. An early hour has been chosen
on account of the butterflies, who never like to be

•24

cor AND CRADLE STORIES.

out after suiiHet. A good band of musicians ha8 been
engaged for the evening. The stewards are Mr.
Chirp, the hearth cricket, and Squire Bombybus, the
gi'eat black humble-bet.

" Refreshments will consist of finiit, nuts, honey and
sugar. Nectar, fresh dew and water will be served
in acorn cups.

" No (juarrelling will be allowed, and notice is given
to wasps, hornets and flies not to eat too much, and
on no account to sting any of the guests. N.B. — This
caution is not intended for the bees, whose well-bred
manners admit of no doubt of the propriety of their
conduct in any society.

"The blue and black dragon-fly, the great green
aiid gold dragon-fly, the small blue fly, the dark
green, the red, the crimson, the purple, the orange, the
tawny, and the many other flies who claim kinship
to the master of the feast, are expected to attend and
are oflered a hearty welcome.

" A select party of flies only will be admitted, such
as can come in full dress suitable for such an occa-
sion.

What a bustle the insects were in for a mile around
Squire Wildflower's Park ! What a trimming of feet
and pluming of wings! What a brushing of head-
dresses and brightening of eyes were to be seen on
every bush, leaf and flower! Many hearts beat high
with hope and promised joy as the sun began to
decline toward the west.

I :

THE DRAGON-FLY AND HIS FRIENDS.

'>5

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.

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,

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.

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

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.

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

cor AND CRADLE STORIES.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

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

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.

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<le all her birds and In^aHtH and insects,
and even the flowers and trees, speak in the stories
she told us: so they were more like fables than
stories, but we children liked them none the less for
that. Here is one of our old nurse's stories that she
told to the two- and three-year-old little ones. It was
called

"THE TWO WHITE PIGEONS AND THE BROWN COW.

"A long, long time ago it was, my dears, there were
two pretty white pigeons that lived in a meadow by
the side of a river. It was a tine place. The grass
grew fresh and green, and the white daisies looked
like stars holding up their little heads to the sun-
shine, and the cowslips smelled so sweet, and the
violets sweeter still, though they hid their faces
under the green leaves. They were modest and not
so bold as the buttercups, who held up their yellow
heads and seemed to say, ' Look at us and our gold
cups, are we not fine fellows i ' But everyone liked
the violets and the ' meadow-sweet,' and the delicate
' meadow pinks ' better than the buttercups.

" One bright May morning when tlie sun had
4

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

warmed the water in the river, the great green
dragon-flies came out and the little water-beetles
danced their reels on the top of the water under the
shade of the overhanging willow trees : the May-
flies, too, came up from the bottom of the river —
where they had lain in their little houses snug and
safe all winter — and sported themselves on the broad
leaves of the water plantains, and the little red
spotted Lady-birds found nice resting-places on the
docks and mallow leaves beside them.

" The gold-finches and thrushes and linnets sang in
the hedges, and the nightingales poured out their
songs all night long in the gro'i e by the meadow. It
was as if they were all singing songs of praise to
the good God who had made them so happy and
joyful.

" The pigeons, too, were very happy and gladsome
as they flew to and fro ov nestled among the long
grass and flowers. They had their own way of sing-
ing and talking to each other. It was not like the
song of the lark when he rises from the ground and
sings so sweetly and clearly as he soars up, up, up, so
high that he seems to be lost to earth and belong to
the blue sky or the white clouds.

" The note of the pigeon is only just ' Coo-coo-coo'
but it is soft and sounds nicely, just as if they were

BETTY HOLTS STORY.

sayinji softly, ' I love you, I love you ' — so it was a
sort of love-song they sang to each other.

" Now, the little hen-pigeon saw that all the other
birds were busy making nests or sitting on the eggs
they had laid, and she thought she must not be idle.
So she made a hollow place in the grass by way of a
nest and laid a white egg in it. She was so pleased
that she called her mate to see it, and he was as
pleased and proud as she was. He admired the
smooth round agg very much, and did nothing but
coo and coo to show how happy he was.

" I am sorry to say that their happiness did not
last very long, for a great brown cow came into the
meadow, and as she went over to the river to drink
she chanced to see the pretty white egg as it lay in
the grass. She did not know what it was — perhaps
she thought it was only a white stone — so she gave a
stamp with her big heavy foot and smtished it to pieces.

" The little pigeons wore so vexed when they saw
the Qgg was broken that they cried out, ' Broon Coo !
Broon Coo I why did you tread on our kiest and
break our pretty white egg ( Coo-coo-coo ! '

" But the hard-hearted brown cow did not care for
the grief of the poor pigeons. She tossed up her
horns and swished her long tail, and walked oft'
munching the flowers as she went.

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

" The pigeons were very sorry, but as they could
not put the broken egg together they did not fret
long over it, and were soon happy again. The next
day the little mother made another nest in the grass,
and laid another egg and covered it up safely, but
the spiteful brown cow when she came to the river
to drink, looked about her till she spied the nest, and
gave a stamp, and of course broke the newly laid

egg-

" Then the pigeons flew about in great distress and

said, ' Broon Coo ! Broon Coo ! why did you come

again and break our nice white iigg ? Coo-coo-coo ! '

" But the unkind cow only said, * Moo-moo ! who
cares for you ? ' and tossed her head as she marched
off".

" Now, there was a nice
wise owl who had watched
it all from the dead branch

of a hollow tree, and she
said, * My dear friends, why
do you make your nests on
the ground day after day ? . ^

The wild pigeons build in "^'^^^(/ik'^^S
the trees, and their nests
are safe from the feet of cows or men, or
any creature that walks the earth. Why
not try that plan ? '

HETTY HOLTS STORY.

" Then the pigeons set to work and gathered sticks
and straws ai I other things, and made a nest on the
flat branch of a pine tree, and laid two eggs in it.
When the brown cow came to look for their nest as
slie had before, to break their egg, they put their
heads out of the nest and cried, ' Broon Coo ! Broon
Coo I you can't tread on our nest and break our
pretty white eggs. Noo-noo-noo ! *

" Ever since that time the pigeons have built their
nests in the trees, where no ill-natured beasts can
harm them."

■

^be five little (Bar&enera.

Agnes and Scara, Jane and Katie, and little Susie
came to their father one day and asked for a piece
of ground that was just outside the garden wall. It
was a bit of waste land only a few feet wide, but
they all wanted to have gardens of their own, because,
they said, "the gardener was very cross to them
when they plucked flowers out of the garden borders
or made litters on the walks, ' and so they would like
to plant flowers for themselves.

Their father, who was always kind, and wished to
see the little ones happy, granted the request. He
gave directions to the gardener to dig, rake smooth,
and divide the piece of land into so many beds with a
path between them, so that the five little gardeners
need not interfere with each other, each having her

THE FIVE LITTLE GARDENERS.

own, and tx> 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

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.

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

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.

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."

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.

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.

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

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.

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."

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

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

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."

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

" 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.

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,

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

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.

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

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.

" 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.

fi ':

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.

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,

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.

" 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.

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.

" 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

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.

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

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

:: 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 <lown in
the orchard : and instea<l ol eanying the nuts home,
she would amuse herself rolling them about in the
gra.'«. Fri^'ky ate far more than she earned, and
wmi often scolded for her idle ways.

Dick was the yoiv'v^ est nii'l .small^^st of the family,
a merry little fellow, fond of nuschief and fun ; in-
deed, he was a great plague to Iris mother and sisters,
always up to some impish tricks — pulling their
whiskers, biting tl.'iir ears or tails, or jumping over
their Viacks. H*^ would not take his turn at digging

MIDGE, THE FIELDMOUSE.

for roots, hut spent most of his time in chasinj^ the
hijr beetles and chafers, runninj^ after the crickets, or
trying to jump Hke the grasshoppers, and even poking
his intiuisitive little nose under the leaves to wake
up poor sleeping moths. Midge would say to him,
"Dick ! Dick ! you are so idle I fear you will come to
no good." And saucy Dick would reply, " All work
and no play, you know, mother, makes Dick a dull
boy."

"Very true, my son, but all play and no work is
woi'se, and ends in want." And his careful mother
warned him again not to be out too late.

" Oh, I'm not afraid of old Madge, the owl, stupid
old thing! I can take care of myself; she shan't get
me." And he frisked away.

But the old owl was not so stupid as Dick thought,
or his self-confidence made him careless, for one night
not long after his mother had warned him he was out
playing in the moonlight. The owl saw him from her
perch on the dead branch of an oak tree, and before
Dick could hide himself she pounced down and
carried him off and ate him up, bones and skin and
all. Poor wilful little Dick !

One day Midge missed Dandy. When dinner-time
came he was not to be found, and a& his mother wa.s
going out to work with Midglet and Frisky, she put
away his dinner so that he might find it ready for

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

« 1 1

'f^ i

, t '

him when he came in. But alafi ! Dandy nev«^r came
back to oat it. He had carried out his intention and
Ht't out to pay some visits, and being more thoughtful
of the H<hniration he was going to excite in the minds
of his friends tlian of the dangers by the w»)y, he was
caught and devoured by tlie great grey cat belonging
to the farm. No doubt she admired him, but not in
the way the vain little fellow would have desired.

Not long after this sad luid of poor Dandy, Midge
announced her intention of taking a journey.

" I'm going away for two days to visit my uncle
and aunt, the Dormice, for I hear they have come
lately to settle in the beech-woods. At the same
time I shall look out for beech-nuts, and by and by,
when the nuts are ripe and begin to fall, we will go
and gather in a good store for our winter's food. Pray
be careful to keep n^ar home in the day-time, and
do not go out after sunset lest you be caught by the
owl or the cat, or the cunning weasel ; " and with this
parting injunction Midge set out on her travels.

The first day Grim and Frisky were very good
and minded what their mother had said to them ; but
the next day, when Midglet told them they were to
stay in the house and keep quiet, they ran out and
would not heed what she said. Grim went away by
himself and never came back. I cannot tell what
became of him. Frisky, after running about for

\ ^

MIDGE, THE FIELD-MOUSE.

awhile, saw a round hole in the ground, and being a
very iuijuisitive little mouse poked her nose in to see
what was tiiere. Finding nothing at first, she crept
in farther, and presently wiw two bright red eyes
looking at her. Friglitened, she tiirned to Hy, but
too late ; the weasel sprang upon her and caught her
under the ear. A ^harp bite, and in a few moments
Frisky was dead.

It was a sad home-coming for the mother when,
after her long journey, she came in to find only
Midglet to greet her and tell her of the fate of her
two undutiful children.

" Well, Midglet dear," she said, " we cannot bring
them back, and as my good aunt and uncle were very
kind and invited us all to come and live near them
in the beech-wood, wheie we shall never want for
good food nor suffer from the neighbourhood of such
ravenous enemies as owls, cats and weasels, I think
we had better leave the old home and try our
fortunes in the new."

Midglet was very willing to bid good-bye to the
house under the old apple-tree, and to settle down
near their relatives, the Dormice, of Beech-wood,
where they lived very happily, and I dare say may
be seen any fine October day hard at work laying up
a goodly store of ripe beech-nuts in a new granary
under the trees.

Mbat the (5rc? parrot Sa(& anb 2)t^.

"Never too late! Never too late to mend!" words
shouted in a loud, unmusical voice, arrested the steps
of many a passer-by in the street of a populous old
English town in one of the eastern counties. Many a
head was turned to see the speaker of these remark-
able words, especially as they formed the title of a no
less remarkable book which was attracting the notice
of the reading public at the time.

These words, " Never too late ! " repeated over and
over again, were the first greeting I received upon
entering my old friend's sitting-room in Bungaye. I
turned to see where the harsh words came from, and
found a great grey parrot, v/ith scarlet legs and a red
collar about its neck, occupying a fine large cage near
the window.

THE ilREY r Ah' ROT.

Setting its heiul U) onr si<U' with u knowing l(M)k,
it eyed iiu» with so comical uii ''xpreasion that I fairly
burst into a fit of lau^liter. This seciiie*! rathiM' to
rutflc the temper of the (juier bird, and she raised a
fresh screecli. repeatinj^ her fonner words in a slirillei-
key, "Never t(K) late to mend!" which sci'nutl in-
tended for a hint to me to mend my manners.

Polly was a recent ac(|uisition in my friind's house,
and it was a new and amusinjij experience to me to
study the (^Id ways an<l listen to the sayings of the
bird.

" Polly is an educated bird," was the remark of her
master, a grey-headed old gentleman whom this odd
bird seemed to take a delight in imitating — not his
words only, but the peculiar manner in which he
spoke. This had a very droll effect, for Polly was
really an actor and mimic Her master had a pecu-
liar way of grumbling and muttering to himself when
annoyed, and Polly would fidget about her cage
muttering to hei'self, sometimes calling out, "Shut that
door ! Shut that door ! " and ruffling ud the feathers
of her neck as if she felt a cold draught of air. As
the door was often left open or ajar, it may be it
annoyed her as much as it did the rheumatic old
gentleman she was imitating.

There is a srreat love of mischief in some birds.

A^<

IMAGE EVALUATION
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I.I

11.25

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IM |25
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ttUU

Hiotographic

Sciences

Corporation

23 WIST MAIN STMIT

WIBSTM.N.Y. MSM

(716) •72-4503

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

The magpie, the jay, jackdaw and others will hide
any article they can manage to secrete — things that
they can make no ixwsible use of for food or comfort.
Is it a thievish propensity in their nature, or is it
really from the same love of fun we often see in some
children \

I believe this grey parrot hid things just for fun,
as she seemed to enjoy watching the result of her
mischievous pranks.

One day I was sitting alone in the dining-room
writing a letter. Polly's cage-door was open. I think
she had learned to unlatch it heraelf. Out she
hopped and on to the table she came, making sundry
polite bows of her head and announcing her arrival
by repeating several times, " Poor Polly ! Poor Polly!"

A pen (it was in the days of goose-quills) lay beside
a penknife a little beyond the paper on which I was
writing. Poll quietly took possession of the pen and
flew off with it. Sticking it between the bars of her
cage and eyeing me with a cunning look, she came
back again. Making her bows, she repeated in more
decided tones, "Poor Polly! Poor Polly! Never too
late ! Never too late to mend ! " then picked up the
penknife in her handy claws, weighed it carefully,
and transferring it to her bill, balanced it with a
nicety and precision that a reasoning being might

\ r

THE GREY PARROT.

\ t

have used. Satisfied there was no fear of dropping
it, she carried it off to her cage.

I let her alone to see what she would do next, but
this time I had to put a stop to her proceedings.
Polly had obtained pen and penknife, but she had no
ink, so she walked to and fro on the table eyeing the
inkstand and repeating her address, " Poor Polly !
Poor Polly ! " as usual, but when she made an attempt
to abstract the glass with the ink in it from the stand,
I trembled for the result, and laid my hand on the
stand, saying decidedly, "No, Polly ! that will not do;
the ink you must leave alone."

I believe the sagacious creature understood, but
unwilling to let an opportunity pass, she deliberately
seized my envelope by a comer and marched away
with it.

Being deprived of the ink, however, she could
make no attempt at writing, so wisely turned her
attention to something else.

The house-maid had come in to lay the cloth for
dinner, and having set the voider in order, she depos-
ited the knife-tray on the floor beside it and left the
room.

Mrs. Poll lost not a minute in taking advantage of
her absence. Urged either by mischief or acquisitive-
ness, she flew down and set to work.

COT AND CRADLE STORIES,

She took every knife and fork out of the tray, and
laid them side by side on the floor, and then pro-
ceeded to conceal them by poking them under the
edge of the carpet — hiding the knives and forks so
completely that not even a handle was visible. The
carver gave her the most trouble. She could not
manage to hide it under the carpet, so took it in her
bill, but found she could not balance it — it was too
large, too heavy in the handle, and too long in the
blade — so she shoved it under the s^and of the voider
as far as she could reach.

It was amusing to watch the manner in which she
pranced about when her task was done — how she
eyed the hidden things, and inspected the spot to
make sure nothing of them was visible. Then re-
peating her usual formula, she resumed her perch on
the top of the cage to see what would follow.

I do not know if Polly did, but I most certainly
enjoyed the state of perplexity the poor maid was
in. First she looked into the empty tray and said,
" Well, sure, and I thought I had brought in them
knives all right. Why, what a fool I must be ! " and
went out again. But they were not in her pantry, so
back she came.

" If you please, Miss, did you do anything with my
knives ? " The question was asked humbly and
douVitingly.

THE GREY PARROT.

" No, Mary, I Aever touched i^em."

I could not find it in my heart to betray the parrot
and spoil the fun. »

" Sure, the things must be bewitched, Miss, for
they are not in my pantry, and they are not here
either."

All this time the bird was hopping about, first on
one leg and then on the other, bowing her head and
repeating, " Poor Polly ! Poor Polly!"

But Mary soon found out the trick the bird had
played her. Her foot struck against the hidden
knives, and then the secret was out. Mary finished
setting the table, muttering to herself, " Well, I do
believe that the old one is in that wicked bird ; it's
up to everything, it is ! "

One fine spring morning the window had been left
open in front of the stand on whifh Polly's cage
always stood. The warm fresh air inspired the bird
with the desire to be abroad enjoying the delights of
freedom, so she managed to open the door of her
gilded prison, and flew away over the Common to
revel in the sweet scents of gorse and heather then
in bloom on the turfy waste which lay on one side
of the town.

There was a great fuss in the house when Polly's
cage was discovered to be. empty. Search was made

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

everywhere in the house without success. She must
h&ve gone for^h through the window, but in which
direction no one could decide. Men and maids, boys
and girls started up and down the street, into the
by-ways and even down to the market-place. The
hue and cry was raised that the precious " foreign
bird " was lost, and liberal offers of reward were
made for its recovery.

Meanwhile Mistress Poll had naturally preferred a
wider range for her liberty than a dusty street, and
was out among the gay golden-flowered furze bushes
of Bungaye Common.

About noon a small mob of ragged boys and girls

rushed up to Mrs. S 's front door with the news

that they had noticed a lot of small birds, sparrows
and chaffinches and robins, gathered together and
flying about a hawthorn bush, and scolding at a
great rate at a big grey bird with scarlet legs and
M red mark on its^ neck.

One of the boys said the little birds might have
pecked at the grey bird and made its neck bleed, but
they all wondered to hear the big one talkmg to the
little ones.

" And oh, Missis ! that queer bird did preach a real
sermon to the little felk ws, and told them to mend
their v:ays ; and she told them her name was Polly,

THE GREY PARROT.

and we got right feared on her, for we never did
hear a bird talk like a human afore. We ran awny
as fast as we could, and we met a man who told us
it was your talking bird, an' he said you would give
us a lot if we got her safe, maybe as much as six-
pence ! "

This hint being responded to, and an additional
donation of cake and raisins being gratefully ac-
cepted by the boys, the spot Polly had retired to was
soon reached.

The parrot was easily recaptured, the cage being
set within sight of the fugitive, furnished with a
lump of sugar and a biscuit. Polly, knowing that no
such dainties grew on furze bushes, responded to
the bait and flew down from her wanderings. She
hopped in at the open door repeating her old words
very emphatically : " Never too late ! Never too late
to mend ! " and was borne home in triumph, attended
by all the urchins that had gathered round to look
at and listen to the wonderful talking bird.

One thing delighted the household in Broad Street.
Polly had learned a new word, had added to her stock
of vocables, and now shouted, "Cuckoo! Cuckoo!"
imitating the mellow note of that mysterious spring
visitor so perfectly that you might have fancied you
heard the cuckoo calling as she flew above your head.

Rl*..

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

Polly had h^ard it while she was sitting in the
hawthorn bush on the Common, and was evidently
pleased with her new accomplishment. She lived to
be quite old, but I never heard that she paid another
visit to the Common, or whether the little birds she
saw there profited by the sermon she preached to
them.

ZCat an& Q:it: Zhc 6roun& Squirrela
of HDinnewawa.

Tat and Tit began their life together on one of the
large islands in Stony Lake. They were pretty little
creatures. Th<»ix* fur was a light brown, with stripes
of black and white along the back ; their tails were
flat and furred, but not as long and flu^* as the red
squirrels' tails are.

The Indians call the ground squirrels " chipmunks,"
because when they are angry or frightened they cry,
" Chip-chip-chip !" as they run up the trees to get out
of danger. They are the smallest kind of squirrel,
not very much bigger than dormice. Their cousins,
the black, the grey, the red and the flying squirrels,
are all much bigger than the ground squirrel. They
make their houses in the ground under rocks and roots,
7

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

not up in the forked branches of big trees nor in the
hollow trunks of dead ones, as the larger squirrels do.

Tat was rather bigger than his little wife Tit, and
being the stronger, he could do more work in getting
seeds out of the pine cones and bringing home acorns ;
but Tit was very clever in finding where the ripe
strawberries and huckleberries grew, and what bil-
berries were sweetest and earliest to ripen.

The island was a fine place for squiiTels to live on.
There were oak trees to give them plenty of acorns, and
tall pine trees that had cones full of nice seeds, besides
plenty of plants and bushes with sweet berries on
them ; so there was no lack of food for Tat and Tit
to eat during the summer, or to lay up in the little
granary dug deep down under the root of the big
tree, where they kept nuts, seeds and acorns in store
for winter use.

The good God, when He created them and many
other of the wild animals, gave them wisdom to
provide for the cold season of frost and snow, by
laying up for themselves food for the time when they
can get nothing to eat from the frozen ground. As
squirrels and field-mice, and bears and raccoons, and
many other wild creatures sleep during most of the
winter months, they do not require a great deal of food,
but they know just exactly how much to provide, and

TAT AND TIT.

never seem to lay up too much or too little for their
needs.

The squirrels have no hands to carry w fnit they
gather, but they have little pouches, or pi>ckct8, in
their cheeks that they fill with seeds or nuts or what-
ever they wish to carry, and these they can empty
when they reach their storing-place. You cannot see
them at work filling these pouches, but they can stuff
a great deal into them, and are busy running to and
fro all day filling and empt3ring them.

Our little squirrels were nice and cleanly in their
habits, and kept everything tidy in their little house.
They were very lively, and liked a good game of play

Tat and Tit.

100

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

when the sun shone brightly, racing and chasing,
skipping and leaping about and over one another's
back like children in a play-ground. You would laugh
to see the merry little creatures so full of frolic and
fun.

Yet Tat and Tit had their troubles, too, and now I
am going to tell you of how they had to leave the big
island and seek another home.

One fine day a gang of rude lumbermen caiiie in
boats to the island. They had axes and ropes, and
they cut down the fine pine trees and sawed them up
into big logs ; then they chopped down the beautiful
oak trees, and hewed off the branches, and cut the
trunks into lengths. The other trees they cut into
firewood, and altogether made such havoc of all the
pretty bushes and green things on the island, that it
looked bare and ugly.

After rolling all the logs into the water and
making a boom to keep them from floating off, the
men went away. But they forgot to see that the
fires they had made on the island to cook their food
by were quite out, and some days after they left, the
wind fanned the smouldering ashes into a blaze, and
the dead leaves and trampled grass being very dry,
the fire quickly spread. Soon there was nothing on
the island but black burnt ground and bare rocks.

T/r AND TIT,

101

Our little Aquirrels wero so fright^'ned that they
jumped into the water and swam away from the
heat and smoke of their burning island. It was a
good thing that they, like all these little creatures,
were good swimmers.

It was a beautiful moonlight night and the water
of the lake was warm, but Tat said he thought it
was better to be on dry land or up in a green tree on
an island than in the water. They swam a long way
and Tat began to be very tired ; then they had come
away in such a hurry they had brought no food with
them, and he was very hungry.

" Let us land on this island close by," said Tit,
"and go to our cousins, the red squirrels, and ask
them to give us some supper and a bed."

"Well, I am not fond of begging," replied Tat,
" but I am very hungry and tired, and do not mind
for once asking Dot and Dit, the red squirrels, for a
nut or an acorn."

So they landed on the shore of the island, and
after waiting about a little to dry their wet tails,
they went to the foot of a big tree where they heard
the welcome sound of cracking nuts and nibbling
acorns going on.

Tat scratched joyfully at the bai 1^ of the tree
by way of asking admittance. Now Dot, the red

102

COT AND CRADLE STOatES.

■

squirrel, was not a very kind-hearted fellow, and did
not like being disturbed at his supper. He poked
his head out of the warm nest up in the tree where
he and his wife and family lived, and said curtly,
" Who is scratching at my door at this time of
night ? "

" It is only Tat and Tit, your cousins, Mr. Dot,"
replied Tat.

" Ugh ! " said Dot, very gruffly, " and what do you
want, you two chipmunks, disturbing folks in this
way ? "

" If you please, cousin Dot," said Tit, in a soft
pleading voice, "we have been burnt out of house
and home on our own island, and we are very tired
and cold and hungry "

Dit, who was much kinder than Dot, seeing
how tired and miserable the two poor little chip-
munks looked, shivering at the foot of the tree,
threw them down a nut and some berries, and told
them they would find a hole and some moss among
the roots below, where they could rest for the
night.

This was but a cold welcome for Tat and Tit, and
though they accepted the privilege, they did not feel
very grateful to their niggardly relations. They
heard Dot scolding Dit for throwing them ih<^ nut

-vj

TAT AND TIT.

103

and giving them leave to sleep in the hole at the foot
of their tree.

" As for cousins," they heard him say, " I, for one,
do not hold chipmunks as any relation of the red
squirrel family, and I hope they will go away soon
and not trouble us with their company."

This ungracious speech annoyed Tat and Tit very
much, and they wished they had gone to some kinder
family in their need.

" Never mind, Tat," said Tit, " we will get up very
early in the morning before Dot and Dit are awake,
and go away to the other side of the island, where
we may find some berries for breakfast."

Tat had forgotten one thing when he craved the
red squirrels' hospitality, and that was the well-
known fact that the red squirrels are never friendly
with the ground squirrels, but will chase them away,
bite, scratch, and ill-treat them if they find them
among the acorns or pine cones ; just as if the oak
trees and pines were their property and the ground
squirrels were robbing them. Sometimes they will
run after and take away from them the acorns they
are carrying, and will even kill the little things, so
that it was a good thing that Tat and Tit escaped

before surly old Dot got up that day.

'iX

Tat and Tit cuddled down for the night, his soft

104

COT AND CRADLE STORIES,

little nose over her warm back, and they soon got dry
and slept well. They were awake again just as the
first rays of the morninf^ sun fell across the island,
making the dew-drops shine like diamonds on the
wild grasses and flowers.

I do not know whether our two little friends stayed
to wash their faces in the dew, or to brush their
brown coats, or trim their whiskers and tails, for
they were in a hurry to go away and seek for food or
find somo. more hospitable friends than the red
squirrels.

It is a bad thing that the big and strong often
attack the small and weak, even leaving the sick and
wounded to die without caring for them. God has
taught us to be tender and kind to the weak and
sufiering, the aged and infirm.

Tat and Tit soon found plenty of berries and roots,
but while they were eating them they were startled
by the sight of a broad-winged hawk that was
hovering above the trees. They ran as fast as they
could, never stopping till they found ' themselves at
the lake-shore.

There was a canoe lying on the bank just above
the water's edge. Into it the chipmi^iks leaped, and
hid themselves under a bundle that lay at the bottom,
where they felt they were quite safe from the keen
eyes of the hawk.

TAT AND TIT,

105

After awhile they ventured to look out from under
the bundle, which was indeed nothing but a coat
which the owner of the canoe had left there. Pres-
ently they found a piece of bread, some cake and
some cheese in the pocket. This was a great find for
the little chipmunks, who had often picked up the
crumbs and crusts left by the lumbermen, and they
were glad to get such a treat. They nibbled the
cheese and thought it very good. When they had
eaten all they wanted th^y filled the little pockets in
their cheeks, for they thought from past experience
that it would be wise to lay by some of the nice food
against the time they might be hungry again.

They thought the canoe was a fine big shell, so
determined to make themselves happy and comfort-
able now that they had plenty to eat and nothing to
trouble them. They skipped about and enjoyed
themselves greatly. When they were tired they
crept into one of the pockets of the coat and found it
soft and warm, very pleasant to sleep in. Now and
then they took a nibble at the cheese, — these little
creatures did not know any law against taking what
did not belong to them, but thought they were very
lucky in finding such nice things provided for them
without having the trouble of seeking the food
for themselves. It is wrong for children to steal.

106

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

but it was no sin in these little wild squirrels.
Alas!—

" The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley."

About noon-time the canoe-inan came back, and
taking up his coat gave it a shake. Out came Tat
and Tit in a hurry, and away they scampered to hide
themselves, clinging in a terrible fright to the side
of the canoe.

"Ugh! you little thieves!" grumbled the man, when
he noticed the marks of their teeth on his bread and
the big hole made in his cheese ; but he thought it
was field-mice or a musk-rat, perhaps, that had found
out his store, and did not see the poor trembling
chipmunks clinging to the canoe.

They lay quite still until the man, having finished
his dinner, lay down and went to sleep.

After a while he wakened up, and taking the
paddle in his hand pushed off from the shore, and the
next thing the chipmunks knew was that he had
landed on the shore of a little cove, between two
rocks, and jumping ashore dragged the canoe up;
then turning it over bottom upwards went away.

Our little travellers skipped away as soon as the
man was out of sight, and soon came to the conclu-

TAT AND TIT

107

aion thai they had arrived at an excellent place in
which to settle.

It was indeed a fine place for them, plenty of lofty
oak and pine trees, lots of bushes full of fruit, rasp-
berries and bilberries, huckleberries and strawberries.

" This is a grand place ! " cried Tat, gleefully, " and
if there are no red squirrels or other disagreeable
animals on it, we will call this our island and live here
always."

There are a gi'eat number of islands in Stony Lake
— some large and some small ; some only bare rocks
without trees upon them, nothing but tufts of grass
and round cushions of grey moss or lichens ; others
rise high in huge rugged, rocky banks that are hard
to climb, and are clothed with lofty trees, such as
tall pines with dark feathery tops, fine large oaks and
poplars, and many other kinds.

The people who like to come to cool, (juiet places in
hot weather have built houses on many of these
wooded rocky islands, ana spend a pleasant time
there during the summer. They have boating and
bathing, and some plant little gardens and care for
the wild-flowers, of which there are many kinds grow-
ing on all the islands, even in the most barren-look-
ing spots among or on the rocks.

Names are given to the islands by the people who

108

cor AND CRADLE STORIES.

live on them, and some have wisely chosen an Indian
name which is more or less descriptive of the sort of
island.

The wildj rocky, but tree-clad island on which Tat
and Tit had landed, and which they meant to call
their own, was called Minnewawa by the Indians. It
means " Lake, or Water of the Wild Goose,"* and was
called so because the wild geese came early in the
spring and made their nests in the rushes of the little
coves or inlets between the rocks, where the water
lay calm and sheltered from the cold winds. There
the good motherly geese could sit and hatch their
little downy broods and teach them how to swim,
without danger of their being hurt or killed by bull-
frogs or fish-hawks. You see how all mothers take
care for the safety and good of their children ; even
wild geese and ducks and hens, fierce eagles, and lions
and tigers love their little ones. The great God who
made them has given them this love for their young.

Well, Minnewawa was just the place for the little
chipmunks and for birds. The only neighbours Tat
and Tit had were a family of flying-squirrels, who
were not much bigger than themselves, and a pair of

* Minnewawa has also been translated, " Murmur of the wind in
tree-tops," but that given in the text is correct — Afinne, water,
wawa, wild geese — in the Otchipte or Chippewa language — Ed.

TAr AND TIT.

109

wood phoebes — dear busy little birds with black
heads and some white about their breasts, who build
a nest of mud and moss and live by catching mos-
quitoes, and all kinds of small flies and midges.

The flying-squirrel is a very pretty creature. His
fur is a grey colour, and soft as silk ; his eyes are
round, block and very bright, and he has a lovely tail
which he sets up when he takes a jump, and it looks
like a fine grey feather. He, too, like the chipmunk,
lives on nuts and berries, and sleeps during the winter
months in a soft nest, where he lies snug and warm
beside his little grey wife and wae ones while the
cold weather lasts.

Tat and Tit were always good friends with the
flying-squirrels, so they were not sorry to find a
family of them living on the island; they knew
they would not chase them away, but would let
them feed among the oak and pine trees, and be
friendly enough to shov/ them where the best food
was to be found.

The first thing Tat did was to look out for a nice
secure spot in which to make a house. He was not
long in finding a suitable place, although there were
so many holes and hollows among the rocks that l-^y
piled on the shore, and on the land higher up on the
island, that it was a little hard to decide which would
be the best.

110

COT AND CRADLE STORIES,

Tit was well pleased with Tat's choice of a deep
round hole at the foot of an aged oak tree, from
which the acorns would drop to the ground close by.
The little pair set to work, and with their hands
smoothed all the rough places, and dug and scooped
out the hole till it was large enough for them to
sleep in, 'vith a little feeding-room and storehouse
beside ; then they made it warm and soft with moss
and dried hay, and any very nice thing that they
found in the way of down or feathers that had been
dropped by the wild ducks or geese.

The chipmunks were very busy and very happy.
Little people who have plenty to do are always much
happier than those who are idle or lazy.

The summer passed away very merrily for our
friends, and when the days began to shorten, they
knew they must bestir themselves to lay up stores
for the long cold winter that was sure to come.

Tat remembered where the wild rice grew, with its
long bright green grassy leaves, and its lovely trem-
bling flowers waving with every breath of wind, and
that now the tall spikes of grain must be ripe. He
knew, too, that if any of the Indian women chanced
to land near the rice bed, they would gather it all
for food for themselves and their children, and leave
very little for the squirrels. So he and Tit made

TAT AND TIT

111

haste to visit the swamp where they had seen the
wild rice, and in a little while they had carried an
ample store to the house under the tree.

The high winds of October brought down .showers
of ripe acorns from the oak tree, so they had not far
to go for them. Pine cones full of seeds also strewed
the ground. Then there were hazel nuts on the
bushes that had at first been hidden by the long
leafy hoods that covered them; but the frost with-
ered these, and then the nuts, brown as berries, were
seen.

I am not sure if our squirrels cared for the hard,
crude juniper berries, although they looked so bright
on the green branches of the low bushes ; but if they
did not, there were other wild creatures who might
take them. Some of the birds that stay with us
during the winter season are glad of the juniper
berries, so you see there is something for all God's
creatures, however small.

Shorter and colder grew the days. The frost had
already set in, the lake no longer flowed fresh and
blue, or reflected the island shores, the tall trees, the
clouds and the sunshine, or the moon and stars upon
its surface. It was white and still as death — silent
under a covering of thick ice and snow, where once
had been sound and motion.

112

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

Our chipmunks had retired to their well-lined nest,
and were fast asleep curled up like balls of soft fur.
They heeded not the cold winds sweeping through
the trees, or the deep snowdrifts that lay heaped
upon the ground.

We will leave them there till the winds grow soft
and warm sunbeams melt the snow-wreaths and
loosen the ice that binds up the water of the lakes
and streams.

Good-night, little Tat and Tit; good-night, and
pleasant dreams !

Zbc pet Santame.

Katie was only ten years old. Her mother was a
widow who lived in a town where her two boys
could be within reach of a good school, but Katie
lived with her grandmother in the country.

Sometimes the boys spent their holidays in the
country with their grandmother, and when they were
together Katie and her brothers had always a happy
time.

It was Katie's birthday, and as she could not go to
spend it with her mother, her elder brother Charlie
came to see her, and to bring her the accustomed
birthday present from her mother.

Katie always enjoyed surprises, and this time, after
Charlie had given her a new doll and some candies,
he showed her a basket with a cover tied down on

it, and asked her to guess what was in it. He had

114

COT AND CRADLE STORIES,

bronpfht the basket all the way from K in the

cai'H, and it had something alive in it.

Katie guessed a great many times. She lifted the
basket and felt it was heavy, and she heard a scratch-
ing noise in it ; then she peeped through the cracks.

" It is a rabbit, a white one, I know it is," she cried,
" for I see something white inside."

" No, guess again," said Charlie, " it is not a
rabbit."

" It is a lovely white kitten, then, and I am so
glad, because I do love pussies."

" No, not right yet ; guess again," laughed Charlie,
who was a little bit of a tease.

" Then, is it guinea-pigs ? I'm sure it is, two nice
little guinea-pigs."

" No, wrong again."

" Oh, you tiresome boy ! " cried Katie, getting im-
patient, " I won't love you a bit if you do not let me
open the basket."

Charlie laughed and held the lid for a minute
longer, then he untied it and lifted out a beautiful
pair of bantams.

Katie was so surprised and delighted that she
could only say, " Oh, what darlings ! "

Charlie cut the strings that tied the feet of the
little creatures together, and put them down on the

THE PET BANTAMS.

115

ground. The hen was as white as snow and soft as
silk, but the rooster was indeed a beautiful bird. His
feathers were black and red and gol<l-coloured, bright
and glossy ; he had lovely drooping foathers in his
tail of a shining greenish black. Ah, many a girl
would have liked to rob the bantam of them to stick
in her hat. The red comb on his head was so bright
it looked scarlet when the light shone on it, and he
had handsome black stockings of fine feathers down
to his toes.

As soon as he found himself free he stepped out,
clapped his wings to shake off the dust of travel, and
gave a loud sharp crow that almost startled Katie.
She said it sounded like " How do you do ! how do
you do, Katie ? " but Charlie said it was bird lan-
guage, and sounded more like " Erka-rerka-kerka-
kroo-kroo-oo ! ! ! " and all he could make of the little
hen's voice was " Kra-kra-kra ! "

Katie and Charlie both tried to imitate the ban-
tams, but they could not make much of it.

The next thing was to get bread crumbs and grain,
and a saucer of >'ater to refresh them after their
journey, and to stand by and watch the little pair
enjoying it, all the while preening their feathers
before they nestled down close together after their
wants had been satisfied.

116

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

Then came the question of what they should be
called. Katie suggested " Beauty " and " Belle," but
Charlie, who was deep in the study of Roman history,
.said that was too common a name — why not call
them " Mark Antony " and " Cleopatra " ? Katie was
not at all sure she liked such grand names — in fact, she
thought them very odd names to give to anything so
pretty as the bantams — but as she had a very high
opinion of Charlie's learning, she gave up her wish and
consented to have her pets called " Mark Antony "
and " Cleopatra."

" I don't suppose the darlings will mind what they
are called if we give them plenty of food and find a
nice house for them."

After strutting about the premises for a while the
bantams found a high place in the wood-shed — a loft
where there was a lot of rubbish — and they settled
themselves for a roost on a beam that just suited
them, and made themselves quite comfortable for the
night.

At the tiret dawn of day Katie was awakened from
her sleep by the crowing of Mark Antony, and by
the time she and Charlie were dressed, the bantams
were marching about tho yard and scratching to find
worms and seeds among the grass and chips; and
when Katie scattered some grain and crumbs they

THE PET BANTAMS.

117

came and took them, as tjimo as if they had known
her all their lives.

Charlie said there would be no need for a coop or a
house for them, as they would not run away, they
seemed so well contented.

After a few days had passed the little white hen
found her way to the kitchen. Under the dro r
there chanced to be an open basket in which Maggie,
the maid, had put the clean clothes ready folded for
ironing, and into the midst of the nicely rolled-up
linen Cleopatra settled herself down very quietly, and
in about half an hour or so out she flew, making
such a cackling, which was Answered by Mark Antony
calling and clapping his wings to let all the house
know the news that his wife had laid a beautiful
white Qgg.

The egg was a very small one to make such a fuss
about, but Katie was as much delighted at the sight
of it as if it had been twice as big.

Maggie said she would not put up with the little
hen making a nest among her clean clothes, and the
next time Cleopatra came into the kitchen to lay
her ^^^ Maggie drove her out into the shed. Katie
thought Maggie was very ill-natured, but the banty
soon found a nest for herself in the loft. Every day
she lai'l an egg, while Mark Antony sat on the end

118

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

of the board ready to call with her when she flew
down from her nost.

At the end of a week, however, Cleopatra refused
to come off the nest. It was to no p'lrpose that her
little husband urged her to leave it; she resolutely
refused, and as Mark Antony could not prevail upon
her to do what he wished, he got sulky and angry
with her.

Whether she told him that she was sitting on the
eggs and could not leave them to get cold while she
went about taking her pleasure with him, I do not
know, but Katie was quite sure she had explained
all about the work she had to do hatching the eggs.
Still the selfish fellow would not understand her, and
sulked and scolded the poor little thing, but she kept
very quiet on the nest and took no notice.

At last he lost all patience, and flew down in a
great rage, giving her a bit of his mind very decid-
edly ; but Cleopatra knew what was her duty to her
eggs, and only nodded her wise little head without
giving the least sign that she meant to yield to his
wishes. Then he stalked away, and did not come
back again till late in the afternoon.

And how do you think the silly fellow tried to
punish Cleopatra ? He made his appearance in the
wood-shed with two ugly, big black hens beside him.

THE PET BANTAMS,

119

and he strutted to and fro, scratched up the ground
just below where Cleopatra sat, and clapped his
wings, and made a great crowing, as if he would
say, " There, madam, you may go on sittin j;; there as
long as you like. I have got two lar^ wives to take
your place. Who cares for you ? Not I ' "

The pretty white hen looked down on her rivals,
and if you could have heard her speak she would
have said, " What a couple of great coarse-looking old
frights they both are ! Much good may they do you,
my dear husband."

Mark Antony certainly had not chosen these com-
mon barn-yard hens for their youth or beauty, and
the comparison between them and his pretty dainty
little bantam wife when he saw them together made
him feel rather mean, so he sulkad and walked off
again.

It was only a day after this that Katie, when she
went out to feed her bantams, noticed that Cleopatra
did not as usual come down for her breakfast. Look-
ing closer she saw a soft fluffy little chick peeping
out from beneath the careful mother's breast feathers,
and presently another and another popped its tiny
head out, so she knew that the white hen had hatched
her eggs.

Full of joy she ran to call Charlie, who soon

120

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

Bcrambled up into the loft and handed down seven
little chicks in his cap. Then, in a great hurry, down
flew the little mother to look after her brood.

While Katie was crumbling some bread for the
chicks, Charlie laid down an empty flour-barrel, and
cutting some sticks with sharp points to them, stuck
them in the ground in front of the open end of the
barrel, with space enough between to let the little
hen go in and out if she wished. It made a nice
coop, and the bantam and her brood were well housed
and as happy as they could be.

When Mark Antony came into the yard he was
surprised at the sight of Cleopatra and her family.
She had not quite forgotten his behaviour, and how
he had tried to vex her by bringing the two black
hens into the shed ; so when he drew near she took
very little notice of him, and when he looked cross
she advised him to go back to his larger friends —
she had her chicks to attend to and could not be
bothered with him.

A brave little guardian she proved to her brood.
No cat or rat or any other hurtful thing could come
near them, and when one day the two black hens
came to inspect them she fairly drove them before
her out of the yard. They never dared venture in
sight of the little vixen again.

THE PET BANTAMS.

121

It was late in the hot month of July before Cleo-
patra made friends again with Mark Antony, but by
degrees she let him come near her and look at his
fine, now full-fledged, family, and to take notice of
their beauty and to praise them and express his pride
in being father to such a flock of handsome chicks.

Before long they were quite reconciled and lived
very happily together, and though they are both
growing old they are still the dearest and most
prized of Katie's ] ets.

(Ebe loft? an& tbe lowl?; or, ^be
®ah an^ ite Depen^ent0*

On a pleasant flowery plain grew a mighty oak tree
and at its roots tender grass, beautiful, graceful ferns,
and sweet blue violets.

The same sunbeams glistened on the shining leaves
of the great oak as brightened the lowly grass and
ferns and flowers. The same genial showers of
spring and dews of summer fed them. The same
breezes that stirred the spreading branches of the
sturdy oak softly waved the leaflets of the ferns and
kissed the blossoms of the violets, shedding abroad
their fragrance on the air. The same rich mould
that fed the strong roots of the tree had nourished
the fibres of the grasses, the ferns and the violets.

All had received the gifts of their great Creator in

THE OAK AND ITS DEPENDENTS.

123

equal shares for the good of all alike. The plants
gave back to M\e earth for the use of the oak all
their old leaves, adding richness to the soil and also
giving something to the air that was needed for the
good of men and animals. What the plants did not
need they gave back, keeping only a little for future
use stored in their living roots.

If the oak had taken more during its long life, it
also had yielded more. For two hundred years it
had grown and thriven through wintry blasts and
summer tempests. Bravely it had held up its leafy
head against the crashing thunder-bolts, and bravely
it had faced the fierce lightning that passed it by
without blighting a leaf or withering a branch.

Year after year in the autumn the fallen leaves of
the oak were spread over its lowly dependants, a
deep wai .-r> covering to keep them safe from bitter
winds and biting frosts ; thus had they lived and
helped each other.

The squirrels played among the topmost branches
of the giant tree, and feasted on the brown acorns,
not neglecting to lay up stores of the latter for the
winter in their hidden granaries.

The bees gathered honey from its blossoms, and
in the spring the birds built their nests and hatched
their young unseen among its sheltering leaves, or

124

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

filled the air with songs of gladness. All was peace
and joy and harmony ; each lived for the other, and
high and low were both content.

One .summer day it chanced that two travellers,
tired from their long journey, sat down to rest
beneath the grateful shade of the oak.

" What a contrast this grand tree presents when
compared with these trifling plants at it roots ? " said
one as he leaned his back against the grey-barked,
massive trunk of the tree. " Of what use are they ? "
he went on, as he carelessly plucked a handful of the
pretty ferns and violets and cast them aside, giving
no thought to their beauty, for he was no lover of
God's work in nature.

*' It is a fine piece of timber, my friend," said the
other, as he looked up with admiration at the size of
the great tree ; " if felled, this oak would cut into
planks and beams stout and strong enough for a
man-of-war."

" If it were mine," said the first speaker, " it would
soon be cut up and turned into money instead of
standing here useless."

" Yet it would be a pity after all, for the tree is a
great ornament and someone might miss it," said his
friend.

" Not much more than these weeds at its foot

THE OAK AND ITS DEPENDEATS.

125

foot

would, and no one cares for weedH," was the answer ;
and the men rose up and went on their way.

But the little plants had heard, and were very
angry at the slight that had been shown them in
being called " weeds."

" Weeds, indeed ! nothing but weeds ! " exclaimed
the graceful lady-fern, as she tried to raise her
crushed stem.

" Useless things ! No one cares for us ! " sobbed
the poor torn violets the unfeeling man had plucked
and trampled upon, while the tender blades of grass
were too crushed to express their indignation at the
way they had been treated.

" Thest ',!,rft,rf less men made a great fuss about this
big oak, ai • listened to one of my songs!"

cried a mo( . {':-bi 1 from a bough above.

" And ne\ i^ed these pretty little ones of mine

playing at hide-and-seek on the branch over their
ugly heads ! " chattered a red squirrel, with a morti-
fied air.

" I am sure they were quite blind to my beautiful
colours," complained a swallow-tail butterfly as he
rested on an oak leaf close by.

" Oh, my dear friends," said a bee, " butterflies and
bees are of no value — we cannot be made use of as
beams and boards ! "

126

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

They were all hurt because the oak was said to be
of more value than they were.

The grand old tree sighed through all its branches,
and was grieved by the envious spirit roused by the
words they had heard. Still more did its great
heart ache when it heard one of its dependants
exclaim :

" Let them come and cut down the oak ! we shall
not mind ; there will be all the more room left for
our roots ! "

Not many days after there came a party of lumber-
men, armed with sharp axes. They crossed the plain,
and when they reached the oak they stopped and
looked at it. Then taking the shining axes from
their shoulders, they struck the trunk of the tree
till the air re-echoed with the sound of the blows.

" Yes, it is a noble tree," said one of the men, " but
it will take many a stioke to bring it down and saw
it into logs for the saw-mill. Be that as it may,
though, there is money in it."

Then the men smote the tree many more blows
with their axes. The birds flew away in terror ; the
squirrels fled, leaping from branch to branch, and
hardly got away safe from the dogs that had come
with the men.

Hour after hour the woods rang with the sound of

tree

THE DOWNFALL OF THE OEEAT OAK.

128

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

the strokes of the axe-men. At last, with a crash
that made the earth fairly quake, clown came the
!nij,'hty tree prostrate on the jrround it had so lonj;
adorned, a thing of grandeur and of beauty.

Alas ; the poor ferns and the violets and grasses
were so trodden down, crushed and shapeless beneath
the heels of the axe-men, they had little life left in
them. The winter came, but the ground was bare
and there were no sheltering leaves to cover them.
The frosts nipped the roots, the summer heat
withered them, and thus uncared for they perished.
Too late they repented of their envy and ingratitude,
and learned that the oak had been their best friend
for all time and seasons.

The downfall of the lofty had been the destruc-
tion of the lowly.

. i

f. \

fl>r6. Jfl?trap an^ I)a^&? Xoitfllcoa^

One fine summer evening two spiders met by chance
on the top of a brick wall that surrounded a pleasant
garden. These spidera were of difi'erent species and
very unlike in their habits and dispositions. One,
whom I shall call Daddy Longlegs, was of that wander-
ing and harmless tribe country-folk call harvestraen,
because they are often seen during harvest season
galloping over the fields and gardens, and even ven-
turing inside people's houses. There is a saying
among old wives, " A great many harvestmen, a
bamful of corn."

The harvestman is a most amiable spider, never
being known to pinch or bite the reapers in the corn-
fields, or the poor gleaners when they go to sleep
under the hedges, though he will run over their faces

or hands if they chance to obstruct his progress, yet
9

130

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

* i
111

so lightly that this does not even cause the sleepers to
start. The lives of these spiders, too, are protected
by the same kindly prejudice that preserves the robin
and the swallow. Country people consider it a bar-
barous act to kill the harmless harvestman.

They are not so voracious as the garden or house
spiders, contenting themselves with the very small
insects, such as the little grey gnats and tiny flies,
which they find trapped in the old webs of the
garden spiders.

Perhaps I had better give a slight account of Mr.
Longlegs' appearance, as he may not be already
known to my young friends.

Mr. Longlegs had a very light grey body, mounted
upon eight slender legs of a most amazing length —
so long that by their help he covered about six times
the ground occupied by a common spider. Among
his tribe he was always looked upon as a very accom-
plished person, the most expert dancer and swiftest
of foot of all the family of Longlegs. He was also
remarkable for his evenness of temper, never putting
himself in a passion on any provocation.

"It is better," he would say, "to take matters
coolly and fairly ; those who do so are sure to be
best off in the end."

Mrs. Flytrap, the garden spider, was a creature of
a very different order. She was of a watchful, cun-

pers to

otected

e robin

a bar-

r house

Y small

ly flies,

of the

b of Mr.
already

nounted
ngth —

X times
Among
accom-
wiftest
as also
putting

Imatters
to be

iture of
il, cuii-

MRS. FLYTRAP AND DADDY LONG LEGS. 131

ning temper, very greedy and avaricious. She worked
hard, and was never happy unless she had half-a-
dozen webs hung out to catch unwary insects, and a
larder well stocked with legs and wings of the fattest
and tenderest description. Her body was of a dusky
brown colour, with as many eyes as she had legs,
and though you would have supposed eight eyes were
quite as many as one spider could need, she said they
were not enough, for let her be ever so watchful
some good morsel was sure to escape her notice or be
stolen from hei* by one of her neighbours. She was
on foot from sunrise till sunset, seldom taking any
rest or pleasure, and was so sour and unsociable that
she was not only ugly but looked ever so much olr'er
than the gay, good-humoured harvestman.

But to my story. Mrs, Flytrap was running along
the wall at full speed to look at a web she had made
that very morning, and in which she expected to
find entangled some fat fly or juicy young gnat when
a stop was put to her progress by the unwelcome
presence of Mr. Longlegs. He was standing quietly
looking down at the leaves of . , currant bush which
grew against the wall below, his long legs taking up
the whole path and effectually blocking the way.

Mrs. Flytrap was in a great hurry, and felt angry
at seeing the whple width of the road taken up by
one person, so slie very uncourteously commanded

132

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

Mr. Longlegs to move on that she might pass, saying,
" I wonder what you mean by taking up so much
room with your long spindle legs."

"Come now, friend Flytrap, you had better be
civil," observed Longlegs, coolly, and without moving
an inch, " for I must tell you I am rather inclined to
have a will of my own, especially when I am treated
with any degree of rudeness."

Mrs. Flytrap looked spiteful on hearing this speech,
but Longlegs took no notice of her, as he did not
wish to change his place for a few minutes. He had
his eye on a gnat slightly caught in an old web
among the leaves of the currant bush, and was afraid
if he moved he might frighten it away and so lose a
good supper ; so he candidly toll Mrs. Flytrap that
when he had secured the gnat he was watching he
would allow her to pass.

" Indeed," said Mrs. Flytrap, " I am not going to
wait your leisure. I might stay here all night if I
did and lose all chance of prey, and that would be a
pretty joke truly."

" Then," replied Longlegs, who was as obliging and
polite as a spider could be, "as I do not like to put
you out I will let you walk under me. Tliere is
plenty of room and to spare," he added pleasantly, as
he raised himself to his full height on his long legs.

Instead of accepting this friendly offer, Mrs. Flytrap

!i '

MRS. FLYTRAP AND DADDY LONG LEGS. 13*i

saying,
) much

bter be
moving
lined to
treated

speech,
did not
He had
►Id web
s afraid
o lose a
ap that
ling he

oing to
;ht if I
Id be a

ng and
to put
here is
ntly, as
legs,
lytrap

declared she woul(i not lower herself by doing any-
thing of the kind. Longlegs took no further notice
of her, but continued quietly watching his prey,
which by this time had become pretty securely
entangled. Stretching down one of his long feelers,
he fished the gnat out of the net and prepared to
enjoy his supper.

Mrs. Flytrap, who could never see eating going on
without wanting her pickings, began to dispute the
possession of the gnat with Mr. Longlegs, claiming it
as her rightful property and saying she had woven
the web, and ended by darting out one of her claws
to seize it from its rightful owner.

" Gpintly, gently, my friend," said Longlegs. " How
comes it you did not claim this gnat while it was yet
in your web? — if, indeed, it was your own web it was
in, a statement I am much inclined to doubt."

At these words Flytrap flew into a great rage and
ran to and fro on the wall, trying to annoy her enemy
as much as possible, but though she was the stronger
and fiercer, Longlegs was the more agile; he kept
his legs stretched out all round him, so that Flytrap
could not approach nearer to him than within half
an inch or more on either side ; and being as niui ole
as a French dancing-master, he was always ready for
her at every turn. Flytrap soon realized that she
was likely to come off* the worst in the encounter.

134

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

Still she did her best to dislodge her adversary, and
while they were yet eyeing each other with hostile
intention, a light breeze swept away the gnat which
had been the bone of contention between them.

At the same moment Flytrap heard a great buz-
zing, which seemed to come from one of her nets
close by, and a panic seized her lest her enemy should
also hear it and gallop off on his long legs, and
find and gobble up the prey before she could reach
it herself.

" Now," thought this cunning spider, " if I could
manage to put him off his guard I might take the
opportunity and throw him over the wall." So she
turned about to Longlegs and said in a deceitful
voice, " Well, my friend, your gnat is gone and you
are none the better of keeping me waiting ; still, to
prove to you that I do not bear malice for the little
diiference between us, I shall be very pleased if you
will do me the favour of accompanying me home to
supper. I dare say I can find some titbit in tho
larder that will serve to satisfy our hunger till morn-
ing. But stay," she added, as if suddenly recollecting
herself. " I will first step home and see that every-
thing is prepared with all due decorum, for I am
very particular in that respect when I have friends
at my table."

There was something so sly and hypocritical in the

,ry, and
hostile

b which

at buz-

er nets
should

js, and

i reach

I could

ike the

So she

eceitful

tid you

still, to

le little

if you

ome to

in the

morn-

lecting

every-

I am

■riends

in the

MRS. FLYTRAP AND DADDY LONGLEGS. 135

expression of Mrs. Flytrap as she said this, and the
change of manner was so sudden and unexpected,
that the harvestman, who had his wits about him,
suspected there was some trick and that she meant
no good by her polite invitation to supper, so he
resolved to watch and, if possible, to defeat her
project.

Feigning compliance, therefore, he stood a little to
one side to let Mrs. Flytrap pass.

" Now or never," said Mrs. Flytrap to herself, giv-
ing a sidelong jump, hoping thereby to overset her
lighter adversary from the wail ; but, as often happens,
' the crafty are taken in their own snare, and the trap
they set for others proves their own ruin. Longlegs,
suspecting treachery, was on his guard, and moved so
nimbly out of the way that Mrs. Flytrap lost her
balance and fell off the wall herself. She began at
once to spin a thread to descend by, but unfortunately
was not aware of a toad who had scrambled out of
his hiding-place, and with open mouth was ready to
receive her, and who devoured her in an instant.
Thus did avarice and treachery meet with due reward.

Longlegs had the satisfaction of finding an excel-
lent supper ready trapped, and several new webs well
stocked with the choicest provisions, which, as they
no longer were required by their rightful possessor,
he had no hesitation in enjoying.

» I

lii

Jf urtber Hbventurea of G:at anb ZCit.

SUNSHINE AND SPRING ON THE ISLAND

MINNEWAWA.

The sunbeams have grown strong and warm, and the
ice in the lake is beginning to break up into great
masses, showing here and there pools of* fresh blue
water, on the brink of which flocks of wild ducks are
to be seen pluming their feathers. At night the clang
of the Wawas* is heard coming from the south and
the west, where under warmer climes they have passed
the month of winter Nature, true to her seasons, has
called all her wild wanderers home again to their old
haunts among the lakes and streams of Canada.

All the little animals, and some big ones, too, that
have bc^n asleep in their dens and holes and warm

* Wild Geese.

\ \

MORE ABOUT TAT AND TIT.

137

D OF

id the
great
blue
cs are
clang
1 and
assed
s, has
ir old

, that
varm

ncstfc) all winter, arc waking up and looking alxjut
them.

Tat and Tit, too, are stirring and stretching, think-
ing it is high time to wake up and see what tlie
world outside is like. They are soon frolicking about
in the sunshine, running along the fallen trees that are
clear of snow, and scratching aside the dead leaves in
search of a stray pine cone or two that may have been
left from last year. They do not find many, and as
there are no berries or nuts ripe, it would go hard
with them if they had not stored up enough to eat in
their little granary ui.der the root of the oak tree.
But they have plenty there, and are growing quite
fat and hearty. Many a half -hour they spend sitting
basking in the sunshine on the rocks, dressing their
fur coats and brushing away the dust from their tails
and paws, making themselves clean and presentable.

Very pretty they look, this bright April morning.
There is a sweet scent in the air from the pines and
the cedars ; the sunbeams have set the sap flowing
through the branches and sprays of the evergreens,
and all their spiny leaves are getting greener every
day. There is a sound of rushing wings and splash-
ing water, breaking the silence of the lonely lake, as
flight after flight of wild ducks arrive, letuming to
their old haunts among the iiishes and flags, where

138

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

I I '*s\

they will soon be making nests and hatching thefr
broods of little brown ducklings.

We hear the piping of the little birds, the chicka-
dees and tree-creepers, the wood phoebes and cross-
bills, and soon the hollow sound made by the wood-
grouse that we call the Canadian partridge, calling
to his mate to leave the shelter of the dull cedar
swamp and join him in the more cheerful open glades
of the forest. Standing on the trunk of some big
fallen tree he beats his breast with his wings, the
rapid strokes making a hollow drumming sound that
can be heard for a long distance. Like a good obedi-
ent wife, the hen leaves ths close covert of the cedar
trees and comes at his call, not again hiding from
him till she has made her nest and hatched her brood
of little chicks.

I must not stop to tell of the spring flowers and
all the pretty feathery ferns that are rearing their
heads from the ground and unfurling their fronds to
the warm spring air, or you will think I have for-
gotten our chipmunks Tat and Tit.

As the spring days lengthened, Tat noticed that
his little wife kept away from him. She seemed too
busy to attend to him or to play as much as usual,
but spent the time making their house bigger inside
and bringing in small bundles of soft fine hay to the

MORE ABOUT TAT AND TIT.

139

inner nest where they slept. When he asked her
what need there was for a warm bed in June, she
gave him no answer, and he thought she was cross
and sulky ; so he stayed away from the house all day,
and Tit said she was glad to have a little time to
herself to work. This made Tat sulky, and he w.ent
off in a pet and sat en the bough of a tree near by.

Presently he heard Tit calling to him to come down,
for she wanted him very particularly. When he got
down into the house he was very much surprised to
see that she had four tiny chipmunks all closely
cuddled together in the new nest that she had been
so busy making for the little family.

Tat was delighted. He skipped about joyously, up
and down the trees and over the rocks. Then he
went off to look for some nice food for the little ones
to eat, but the young mother told him not to trouble
himself, lo" she had good food herself to give them ;
they were too young yet to eat acorns and nuts.

Tat was very curious, and wanted to see if the
little ones were like their mother and himself, but
when he tried to get a peep at them Tit covered them
up so that he only saw one funny little head. He
could not see its eyes, for squirrels, like a great many
other small animals, caanot open their eyes for some
days after they are born.

140

COT ANP CRADLE STORIES.

\\\ «

: i

Tat did not admire the little une he saw, and said
he thoujjht it was " a fright, and a stupid thing."

" Stupid yourself, sir ! " cried Tit, " she's a real
beauty ! " and for many days she revenged V erself on
liim by keeping the little ones covered so that he
could not see them. Tat was discontented enough at
this, but the crosser he got the more she teased him.
It was not very kinu of the little mother, but she
meant to surprise him when the eyes of the chip-
munks were open, and she couid show him how
pretty they were with their yellow coats and bright
shining eyes.

Soon they began to frisk about, and Tat was very
proud of his family.

As they grew older they would pop out of the nest
and skip over the rocks and fallen logs, racing and
chasing each other, and scampering after their father
and mother, jumping over their backs and catching
them by their tails, making great fun of them.
Sometimes Tat was so vexed with their behaviour
that he was obliged to give the boldest of them a
sharp cufF, or a nip with his teeth, but Tit never even
scolded them. I am afraid she rather enjoyed their
pranks.

Tiny was the biggest and the boldest, Trotty was
the most nimble. Tots was the gentlest, and Tricksy,
the sly one, was the most mischievous.

i 1

MORE ABOUT TAT AND TIT.

141

real
on
he

1 at
iiim.

A great many people came to Minnewawa that
summer to j^ather the wild fruit which fijrew in
plenty all over the island. Several Indian womm
and children came for the huckleberries and ra.sp-
berries, cutting poles and long sticks to build the
sort of house the Indians call a " wigwam." The
Indian boys are good hunters and trappers. They
carry bows and arrows to shoot the small birds and
animals, and learn to use these with great skill.
They quickly find out, too, where the squirrels have
their holes or nests in the trees, and where the wild
birds lay their eggs. The Indian women cook and
use all sorts of herbs and roots, and make stews and
soups of many things we would not care to eat.
They cook all kinds of wild animals, musk-rats,
ground-hogs, raccoons and squirrels, beat's, and many
kinds of fish and birds.

Tat and Tit were very much afraid of the Indians,
and kept close to their hole with their little ones
while they were about. Yet in spite of all their
watchfulness, a sad fate happened to one of them,
One day Tit had gone out to get some food, when she
saw *' White Cap," a big Indian lad, coming along
over the rocks. He had on a blanket coat with a
red sash around his waist, and his bo\7 sbing over
his shoulder. Tit was terribly frightened and hid

I > k

III t:

142

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

» I

hoFHelf aH well as she could behind a roek, from
which she could peep out to see which way he went.
When he drew near, she noticed that he had a
sijuirrel drawn through his sash, and saw by its
pretty striped coat that it was Tricksy, the brightest
and most playful of her own little ones.

White Cap had spied it sitting on the branch of a
tree near its home and had killed it. Poor Tit was
in great grief, and it was not long before she had
another sorrow, for Tots, too, fell a victim to White
Cap's arrow, and was probably made into soup by
the Indian women.

At first Tiny and Trotty were dull and sad, but
they soon forgot all about their loss, and played and
frisked as lively as if nothing had happened to their
little brother and sister.

The Indians remained some time longer on the
island, engaged in fishing, but our chipmunks went
away to another part of it and took care they were
not seen by their enemy, the Indian boy. They
kept very quiet, never going out except in the dusk
of the evening or on moonlight nights, or when they
knew the Indians were out fishing by torchlight.

It is a pretty sight on a dark night to see the
Indian canoe with fiaming torch at the bow shoot
out from the shadow of the forest tree-clad shore, the

AfORE ABOUT TAT AXD TIT.

143

m the
went
were
They
dusk
they

figure of its occupant, spear in hand, 8tandin|; in the
canoe ready to strike the fish as it rises to the light.
So alert and <|uick are the Indian's eye and hand that
he seldom fails to bring up a hig bass or inaskinonge
on the point of his spear. When he has taken several
tine ones lie paddles his canoe ashore, makes a fire,
and laying the fish on the hot ashes, cooks it for his
supper. After eating heartily he rolls himself up in
his Manket, stretches himself on the ground, his feet
to the fire, and is soon sound asleep.

Tat and Tit were not sorry when the Indians
moved away to another island. They loved the
stillness and quiet of Minnewawa, but this they
were not long to enjoy.

One day a party of men with materials for build-
ing a house arrived, and soon the noise of axes and
hammers, the clatter of piling the newly sawn timber,
and the voices of men at work were heard.

The spot chosen for the site of the house was juat
above the rock where the oak tree stood, at the foot
of which Tat and Tit had made their home. At first
our squirrels feared that the men would cut the oak
tree down, but the gentleman who had bought ,the
island said that it must stay — he would not have the
fine tree destroyed. It stands there still with its
spreading boughs shading the roof of the house, a

\i ¥•

Di 1 I

THE COTTADE AT MINNFWAW.V.

MORE ABOUT TAT AND TIT.

145

little cottage with a wide veranda all around it, and
steps leading down to the rocks and beyond to the
water's edge.

Tat and Tit were rather fearful at first when they
heard the joyous voices of the children who came
with their father and mother to live in the house —
afraid lest they should have bows and arrows such as
White Cap had, and would kill them for their mother
to make soup of, or to have their skins to use for
trimming. For some time they would hardly venture
from their house under the rock, only stealing out for
a run when they knew the owners of the house and
the little girls were out in the canoe or paying visits
to their friends on the other islands.

After awhile, as they saw no sign of danger, thej''
grew bolder and soon felt no fear, but would scamper
out to pick up the crumbs that Ruth and Amy threw
down for them, or sit upon the rock close by and
eat a piece of apple or cake, holding it in their tiny
hands. It was great fun for the children to watch
the squirrels at play. Sometimes they would clap
their hands just to see how fast the little creatures
would scamper away, bounding at full speed over the
rocks and up the trees, and to hear them cry, ** Chip-
chip-chip ! " which the children said sounded like
" Catch me if you can \ "
10

146

COT AND CRADLE STORJES.

When they hid themselves in the hole 'inder th6
oak tree, Ruth would call out,

'* Tit, Tit, come out of your hole,
Or else we'll beat you as black as a coal ;"

and Amy would say,

'* You dear little mouse,
Come out of your house."

But Trotty and Tiny only crept closer, till the chil-
dren got tired waiting for them and went away. Yet
I think it was almost as much fun to the chipmunks
as it was to the children, for they always came back
and seemed to like playing hide-and-seek with the
two little girls.

One day towards the end of summer, Tat and Tit
told Tiny they were going away for some time and
might not return till near winter, but they would
help Trotty and her to get in the stores before they
went.

So they all set to work and soon had everything
settled nicely for the young ones, and were very
pleased to add to their store the good things that
Ruth and Amy threw out for them.

It was not very long after Tat and Tit left them
that their little friends Ruth and Amy went away
with their father and mother,

MORE ABOUT TAT AND TIT.

147

nder thft

the chil-
«ray. Yet
hipmunks
•ame back

with the

± and Tit

time and

ley would

sfore they

They said many good-byes to the chipmunks, and
though I am not very sure that they understood all
the kind things the children said, they took the good
things they gave them as a farewell feast.

" Good-bye, Trotty; good-bye, Tiny," they said, "we
are sorry to leave you, but we are coming back next
year, and we hope you will be here too."

I think the squirrels were sorry when the steam-
boat came and took the children away, but they were
so busy getting ready for the winter themselves that
they had not time to miss them very much.

Time passed quickly, and when the snow and frost
came, Trotty and Tiny were snug and warm in their
nest, cuddling down for the long winter's sleep.

When Ruth and Amy come again next July, they
will probably find their pets grown much bigger and
as ready to pick up the bits of bread and sweet cake
as they were when they bade them good-bye.

[verything
rere very
lings that

left them
tent away

Datre ipartlett anb flDre. ©orftinfl.

!i ■

i! i

" Good day to you, n dghbour Dorking," said a black
and white speckled lien, as she poked her head out
through the partition which divided her nest from
her friend's, the pretty white English-bred hen, who
was sitting very steadily upon a nest of thirteen
fine eggs.

"Good morning, ma'am," replied the little white
hen to Mrs. Partlett.

" The weather seems to me to be getting very
warm," continued the latter : " I am sure I must have
sat twenty -one full daj's on my eggs, and yet not a
cheep do I hear, nor a sign of a crack can I see on
any one of them."

" Well, my friend, I was just making the same
remark to myself," said the Dorking. " What the

DAME PARTLETT AND MRS. DORKING. 149

reason can be that my chicks are so lazy, I do not
know, for I am sure it is full time for them to be out."

"I really think you must have made a mistake
about the day Dame Darby made up our nests and
put those eggs under us. It is three weeks past, I
am sure."

" Yos," said Mrs. Dorking, * for I know she said if
we nad luck these chickens would be out on the first
day of June, and I am a good one for counting."

" Oh, my dear, I know it has been said, * that little
English hen is good at counting her chickens before
they are hatched,' ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mrs. Partlett.
" Now do not ruffle up your feathers and take offence
at an old friend. Your comb has got quite red, I
declare. You see I am a regular old wife, and like
to have my joke sometimes."

But Mrs. Dorking rather stood on her dignity
among the native-bred poultry, and said curtly :

" I dislike jokes, as I never can see any wit in
vulgar sayings," then buried her head in the white
feathers of her breast and took no further notice of
Mrs. Partlett.

Both hens turned over their eggs, counting them,
and finding n*>ne broken or addled, settled themselves
down comfortably to attend to their duty.

Several days went by, and at last Mrs. Dorking

f :l

150

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

called out, " My eggs are chipping, and I can hear
8uch a bustle among the chicks. I am sure they will
be large ones and strong, too."

" I wish you luck, neighbour, with your brood,"
answered Mrs. Partlett, heartily. " Mine are all out."

"Big ones?"

'* I guess they are ! "

So there was great calling and cackling in the hen-
house that day over the new broods. The old rooster,
hearing all the fuss, strutted in and stood on the
threshold, staring in rather a disdainful way at the
two motherly hens ; but when he caught sight of the
newly hatched families, he raised his wings, stretched
out his neck, uttered a shrill crow, loud enough to be
heard all over the farm-yard, and then stalked away
without so much as a kind word to Mrs. Partlett or
her friend.

Mrs. Dorking was disgusted at his rudeness and
said, " Well, indeed i Did you ever! " She could not
utter another word, she felt so angry.

" Well, my dear," said Mrs. Partlett, " I really do
not know what to make of my old husband to-day.
He just gave one look at one of my chicks, and if you
could have seen the face he made, you would have
been surprised. Poor little innocents! I do believe,"
she whispered, " the old fellow is jealous."

DAME PARTLETT AND MRS. DORKING. 161

Then the two mothers gathered their chickens
under their breasts and cuddled them to sleep ; they
at any rate, felt \ ery proud of them.

The next morning Mrs. Darby came, and filling her
apron with the fledglings, she carried them and the
hens into a nice green yard, where she put them into
latticed coops, one at either end of the enclosure which
was fenced round with boards about a foot high. In
the middle she placed two large shallow pans, one
with water in it and the other with milk, curds and
bran. Then she scattered some grain outside of the
coops for the hens and left them.

The two mothers were very glad to find themselves
and their broods so well cared for, yet they could not
feel quite happy. There was something very odd
about these chicks that puzzled the mothers a good
deal, and also gave them some trouble.

In the first place, the old rooster and two young
ones, with all the hens in the farm-yard, would come
and crane their necks over the low board fence, stare
at lihe little flock of yellow downy things, and make
remarks, such as :

" Did you ever see such odd-looking creatures ?
Such big splay-feet ! "

"Yes, and see how awkward they are waddling
about and tumbling over every tiny stone or getting
tangled and overset by the long grass."

\^ '

152

cor AND CRADLE STORIES.

" What heavy long bodies, and just look at their
heads, and the little squinting eyes ! "

" And the broad yellow beaks. Oh, my ! what a
set of frights ! "

" Well, I pity their mothers," said another amiable
old hen ; " they will have any amount of trouble in
managing those queer children. They are not a bit
like mine, and I have brought up half a dozen broods
in my day that have done me credit."

" And look there at the dirty creatures, all dabbling
at once in the water and throwing the nice food about
in such way as I never saw before," said another.

It was in vain that Mrs. Dorking and Mrs. Partlett
clucked and called to the broods to come to them.
They only cried out "EecUe! eedle! eedle!" and went
on dabbling in the dirty water or gobbling in the pan
of food till they were not fit to be seen.

" What shall we do with these unruly creatures ? "
asked Mrs. Dorking in despair.

" I'm sure I don't know," replied Mrs. Partlett, " it
beats all I ever saw, and I really think they must be
idiots."

" Do you think that we sat too long on the eggs
before they were hatched ? I am not sure, but I think
it must have been four weeks instead of three, and
perhaps that may have turned their brains."

I i

DAME PARTLETT AND MRS. DORKING. 153

Just then old Mrs. Gray, the wisest goose in the
yard, came by with her family of half -grown gos-
lings. She nodded good-naturedly to the two hens
as they stood sorrowfully discussing the odd be-
haviour of their families. Indeed, not tlie least of
their trouble was that neither knew which belonged
to her, and the chicks never seemed to know their
own mother.

" What is lie matter, my friends ? " asked Mrs.
Gray ; " you both look rather put out."

Mrs. Partlett, who was the readier speaker, made
haste to tell the whole story of their trouble and
anxiety. Mrs. Gray listened very patiently, and turn-
ing her head espied the unruly subjects of the com-
plaint.

" Why, my friends," she exclaimed, " surely you
ought to know that those are not chickens, but duck-
lings."

"Ducklings! Ducklings! " screamed the two hens
in a breath ; " you do not say so, Mrs. Gray."

" Well, ladies, they are nothing more nor less, and I
ought to know my own relations, for the geese and
the ducks are cousins," replied Mrs. Gray, as she
stretched out her long neck to take a nearer view of
them as they rushed into a pool of rain-water and
began dabbling and swimming about in it.

• i

cor AND CRADLE STORIES,

" And a very fine 8et of little duckies they are,"
added Mrs. Gray as she walked off, leaving the poor
hens to make the best of theii- bad bargain. Poor
things, they did not know what to do with them or
hew they should lie brought up, all their past experi-
ence and knowledge having been of the education of
chickens, not ducks. ,

However, they did not like to forsake them with-
out a trial, and would have been good nurses, but the
ungrateful things never would come when they were
called, or eat the hard grain or other dainties the hens
scratched up for them ; and instead of all gathering
under the wings and warm breasts of their mothers,
they just huddled together in a heap among the wet
grass. Indeed, they soon grew so big that not more
than one or two could have found room under the
feathers of their anxious nurses.

One day the stronger of the flock contrived to get
over the low fence and set off as fast as they could to
a pond in the near neighbourhood. There they
splashed about, diving and swimming and enjoying
themselves in spite of the great distress of the two
foster-mothers, who called and clucked and screamed
to warn them of the danger they were in. I am sorry
to say these ducklings only answered : " Old ladies,
mind your own business and teaca your own chickens
to keep out of water. Quack! Qtuick ! QxuMik!"

n>r0. nDarger^ pie; or, prating

puniabet).

" Good evening to you, neighbours," said a pert
Magpie, as she hopped on the projecting arm of an
old oak tree whose boughs overhung the ruined wall
of the church -yard. Below her perch a Crow and a
Raven were holding friendly converse while they
picked the flesh from a sheep bone by way of supper.
They were too busily engaged to notice Mag's
familiar salutation until she repeated it in a louder
key, adding as she cast her eye with rather a scorn-
ful expression on their homely fare, " You seem to
have a good appetite for your supper, my friends. I
must say, for my own part, that my stomach is
rather too delicate to relish such coarse food as seemb
to satisfy you. I have ju^.t made my evening repast

loG

cor ANP CRADLE STORIES.

!^^

p., I

i !

from the breast and win^j^ of a young duckling. She
had strayed rather late from her mother when
searching for slugs and worms among the grass by
yonder pond. I soon put a stop to her frolics, and
swallowed two partridge eggs by way of sauce."

" How I dislike the company of that vain and
foolish bird," said Mrs. Corby, the crow, aside to her
companion.

" Her affectation and ridiculous boasting rather
amuse than annoy me," replied Mr, Croaker, the
raven, in an undertone. Raising his head as he
finished speaking, he returned the magpie's remark
by a slight nod, and she being in a gossipy humour
needed no further encouragement to continue prating.

" Really, ray dear friends," she said, " although I
have but recently partaken of greater dainties, I fear
I must appear very unsociable sitting up here on ihis
wall by myself while you are enjoying your supper
together. I dislike formality, so by yoiM Ir^ave I
will step down and pick a morsel with you, ju it for
company's sake.

The crow begged she would use no ceremony, and
without waiting for a second invitation Mrs. Mag
hopped down and placed herself by Mrs. Corby, who
very politely made way for her better accommodation.

" I hope you will find our meat good, Mrs. Margery

MRS. AfARGERY PIE.

1.57

Pie," observed Croaker, slyly casting a sidelong
glance at his companion." " To be sure, it cannot
boast of the delicate flavouring of your young duck-
ling, nor the richness of partridge eggs, but to such
as it is you are heartily welcome."

" Pleasant society often sweetens the driest of
meat," replied Mrs. Margery, condescendingly, but it
was quite evident to the crow and the raven from
the way she pecked at the sheep bone that she had
scarcely broken her fast since noon, and that tht'
duckling and eggs were but an imaginary repast.

Having satisfied their hunger, and slaked their
thirst at a neighbouring brook, they repaired to the
hollow ash tree, where they chatted for some time
upon various interesting subjects, such as the back-
wardness of the season, the prospects of a wet
harvest, and the probability of carrion becoming
plentiful in consequence of a disease which had
recently broken out in Farmer Haylock's flock.

Mag, who loved talking too well to be long a
patient listener, soon grew tired of hearing Mr,
Croaker holding forth on such grave topics. Seizing
the first opportunity of a pause in the conversation,
she changed the subject by inquiring with much
apparent interest after his infant family of ravens.

Being duly satisfied that they were in excellent

158

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

health, she turned to her neighbour Crow and said
pertly :

" As for your young folks, Mrs. Corby, I hardly
need ask how they are, for they were very noisy
about an hour ago."

" Indeed, Mrs. Pie," returned the crow, " I hope
they were not quarrelling with one another."

" Oh, dear, no, I dare say not," replied Mag. " I
suppose it was only their violent spirits. I passed
your nest this afternoon, and, as I like to be neigh-
bourly, I just looked in to give you and your partner
a call. You were abroad somewhere, and I was
quite grieved to see the disorderly behaviour of your
crowlets. They were all cawing at once ; it was
impossible to push in a single word. Not an
answer could I get, and the rude things made such
a din with their cawing and flapping that in pity to
my ears I was fain to fly off."

" Really, Mrs. Mag," replied the old crow, as she
tried to look concerned, "I must apologize for my
young folks. They have seen very little of the world,
and the silly little things have such an aversion to
strangers that they will never answer any questions
that are put to them by anyone they do not know
well. I hope, Mrs. Pie, you will excuse them on
account of their youth."

11]

MRS. MARGERY PIE,

159

" Say no more, my good friend, say no more ; I
freely forgive them," answered Mag, with a grand air
of condescension. " I dare say they will learn better
manners in time. I merely mention the matter
thinking it may suggest some useful hints for the
education of your family. I must confess, though, I
felt rather surprised that a bird of your well-known
sagacity should not have been more particular in the
early training of your crowlets. You should have
visited me a year ago, and have seen how I managed
my little pielets. They were, indeed, very clever
birds."

The crow was about to assure Mrs. Mag that she
knew how to bring up a family without coming to
her for instruction, but the prating bird gave her no
chance, allowing her no time to speak.

" Now we are on the subject of improvement," she
went on, " let me ask you, my dear Mrs. Corby, to
take a little more pains in the building of your nest.
It gives me great uneasiness to observe the slovenly
manner in which you and your relations build your
dwellings — a few dried sticks just carelessly heaped
together, with hardly a feather or a piece of wool to
make them soft and comfortable. I would strongly
advise you to take pattern from mine."

" Friend Mag," replied the old crow, with , quiet

160

cor .4iVZ? CRADLE STORIES.

digpity, "you are extremely kind to take so much
interest in me and my affairs. Rough and rude as
my nest may appear to you, it possesses every con-
venience and comfort necessary for the crowlets.
More I do not desire. This is the third brood I have
brought up in that very nest, and not an accident has
happened to any of them ; nor have I addled one ^^^g
this season, wet and cold as it has been."

"Ah, my good neighbour, all this may be very
true," replied Mag, with a significant nod, " but surely
there is no reason why you should disdain to alter
the style of your building for the better. If you
could but hear the spiteful remarks that are made by
your neighbours, you would feel so mortified that you
would not leave one stick lying across another."

"There you are quite mistaken," replied the crow,
" for I never pay the slightest attention to the idle
tittle-tattle and gossiping of a country place like
this. It is only a pity that my neighbours do not
stay at home and mind their own business instead of
troubling themselves with mine."

" Of all things in the world I hate gossiping and
gossipers the most," observed Mr. Croaker, " and I
do believe that half the weak and sickly families one
meets with among the magpies and daws is due to
their l)ein<j' neglected in the nest by their mothers,

MRS. MARGERY ^*IE.

161

who leave them too long at a time while they are
abroad collecting the news and scandal of the neigh-
bouring nests."

This speech was so pointedly aimed at Mag that
she felt somewhat fluttered, but deeming it unwise
to fit the cap to herself, she affected unconcern by
pretending to dress her breast feathers, then resumed
the conversation by inviting Mr. Croaker and Mrs.
Corby to come home and spend the evening with her
in a friendly way.

" My nest," said she, " is a pattern of neatness,
strength and comfort, and I may say without vanity
it is the best built, the warmest, the softest and most
agreeably situated of any nest in the country, far or
near, let the next be where it may."

" You seem to have a very good opinion of your
own abilities, Mrs. Pie," observed Croaker, " but I
have heard that self-praise is no recommendation."

" I am sure, when you see my home," replied Mag,
nothing abashed, " you will be obliged to own I have
not said half enough of its merits. It is built in a
warm niche, just under the arch of a ruined window
in yonder ivied tower, and in it there are two of the
most beautiful eggs you have ever seen. Do fly over
with me and peep in at them. I assure you it will
be quite a treat.
U

162

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

I i I

Mr. Croaker excused himself, saying he had to go
and chant a funeral elegy over the body of a young
friend, Master Jacky Daw, who had fallen from the
nest and broken his neck. His death had been a
great shock to his parents, who had been absent at
the time attending the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Jay.
The funeral was to take place in about an hour, con-
sequently he could not possibly accept her invitation.

Mrs. Corby also declined on the plea that she had
already been away from her nest long enough, and
without waiting for any further farewell, flew away
in great haste.

" Well, I must be going too," said Mag, slowly, " or
Mr. Pie will make a fine chattering at me for staying
out so late, and I dare say my eggs will be getting
cold."

" That is past a doubt, I should imagine," said Mr.
Croaker ; "they must be as chill as yonder tombstones
by this time, and most likely will be all addled and
come to nothing."

" Absurd ! You ravens were always reckoned birds
of ill-omen," cried Mag, "and you are enough to make
anyone melancholy by your gloomy forebodings.
Why, the church clock has not struck seven yet ; at
least, I have not heard it."

" That is not much to be wondered at," said Croaker,

MRS. MARGERY PIE.

163

" since you have prated so incessantly that you could
not have heard it if it had struck twenty times over.
But let me tell you, it must be late, for I have heard
the beetle winding his horn this hour or more, and the
nightingales are singing in the hedge over there. You
know they never begin till the other birds are abed.
It must be eight o'clock or more."

" Bless me, friend Croaker, you don't say so ! " ex-
claimed Mag in a fright, now thoroughly roused to a
knowledge of the lateness of the hour. " Well, I
must be gone, that ia certain," and away she flew,
chattering to herself as she went for want of a better
listener.

Just as Mag came within a short distance of her
nest she was accosted by Mrs. Leatherwings, the bat.
Mrs. Leatherwings was a near neighbour, dwelling in
the same old tower as the magpies.

" Oh, Mistress Pie !" she cried out as she met her on
the wing, "lam so glad to find you. I have been
flitting about for the last half-hour in search of you,
but I am sorry to be the bearer of unpleasant tidings."

" No accident happened to Mr. Pie, I hope ? " said
Mag, anxiously, as she paused in her flight.

"Not that I know of," replied Mrs. Leatherwings.
" but he has been home several times to look for you,
and I warrant will be cross enough when he finds
you."

164

cor AND CRADLE STORIES.

" As for that I can always out- chatter him," answered
Mag, scornfully ; " but pray, neighbour Leatherwings,
tell me what is the matter."

" Matter enough ; at least, I should think so if it
were my case," answered the bat, shaking her head.
"You must know then, Mistress Pie, that as I was
clinging to the wall waiting for the twilight, I heard
the waving of heavy wings close to me. Turning my
head I saw a strange bird of monstrous size coming
into the tow^r. He flew round and round the walls,
and once passed so near to me that I was forced to
stick my claws into the ivy and hold on with all my
strength, or I must have been swept down by his
great wings. At last he darted th» -^'^qrh the window
straight into your nest. The first mischief he did
was to kick out your two beautiful eggs. I saw them
with my own eyes shiver to pieces on the ground
below ; so, says I to myself, ' Mistress Margery Pie,
this comes of keeping such unreasonable hours as
you do.' "

" I do not understand what you mean, Mrs. Leather-
wings," retorted Mag.

" Are you not on the wing from four in the morn-
ing till nearly nine at night? Oh, Mistress Margery!
Mistress Margery Pie ! Why will you not follow our
example and keep better hours, stay at home more,

AfRS. AfARGERV PIE.

1«5

and then such misfortune as this would not befall
you."

" Prythee, neighbour Leatherwings, spare your
counsel," said Mag, who, though fond of giving it,
never liked to be offered advice. " Have I not trouble
enough, but you must make matters worse by your
ill-natured remarks. I dare say after all this is only
some doleful tale you have hatched up to alarm me.
I will hurry home and learn how much truth there is
in it," and turning abruptly she nearly brushed down
Mrs. Leatherwings in her haste.

The bat's tidings were only too true. The first
object that met Mag's sight as she reached the tower
was the wreck of her two beautiful eggs. They were
lying broken in a hundred pieces on the cold stones.

" Alas ! Alas ! " she cried, " my eggs, my dear
unhatched eggs ! They have been murdered by some
wicked bird ! Would that I had been wise and
returned to my nest while it was yet daylight!"

" In good truth, Mistress Margery Pie, you would
have shown your wisdom by so doing," screeched a
harsh voice from among the ivy. Looking up, Mag
saw a great long-eared, tawny-breasted owl regarding
her with a pair of piercing black eyes. Mag smoothed
her ruffled feathers and meekly requested the intruder
to leave her nest as she wished to retire for the night,

166

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

^'•!:\ \

\ u

adding that she expected her husband would be home
at any moment and cross if he found all was not
ready for his reception.

The owl declared that he made a point of never
changing his lodgings when he found them to his
liking.

" And really, Mrs. Margery," he went on, " I never
in my life met with so nice a place as this. I did not
expect to find it nearly so pleasant, for I know how
apt most people are to overrate their own handiwork.
Positively you only did yourself justice when you
extolled your nest to your neighbours Corby and
Croaker. I heard your conversation on the subject
as I sat on the church steeple, and being in want of a
new house I thought from the account you gave of
yours that it would just suit me. I flew off directly
to look at it, and I assure you, Mrs. Pie, I am quite
charmed with it in every way. The situation you
have chosen is romantic and agrees with my tastes ; I
am delighted with the way you have lined the inside
of the nest, and admire the skill displayed in its con-
struction. It has but one fault, and that is scarcely
worth mentioning. It is not quite so large as I could
wish, but in all other respects it suits me almost as
well as though it had been made for me. So albeit I
may feel a little crowded I am willing to put up with

MRS. MARGERY PIE.

167

that inconvenience. In this world, Mm Pie, we can-
not expect to have t\ ings perfect in every particular,
and I am always ready to make the best of them and
take the bitter with the sweet."

The coolness with which the owl made this long
speech so enraged Mag that, losing all patience, she
hopped about in a great passion, feeling ready to
'"hoke with anger.

' Let me tell you, sir," she said, as soon asshe could
speak, "that it is a very unjust and dishonest pro-
r^eeding on your part, and I thought you were a bird
of better principle than to murder my eggs, take
possession of my house, and then refuse me, the right-
ful owner, admittance."

" For the matter of that, Mrs. Margery Pie" replied
the owl, setting up his long ears, " let me tell you I
am the rightful owner of this nest ; it is my lawful
property. It is well known that birds of the higher
order have a claim on all old towers, ruined castles,
churches, barns, outhouses or any other deserted
dwellings, not to mention hollow trees, holes in rocks,
and such sort of places. And now I remember this
very tower was left me by pay grandfather when I
was but an owlet, and as I find the situation promises
to be healthy and pleasant I shall spend most of my
time here.

|i'

168

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

" However," he went on before poor Mag could find
words to express her indignation, "as I do not lika
to be ill-natured I will allow vou to build another
nest for yourself on my manor, if you do not place it
too close to mine. Your vain chattering might dis-
turb my thoughts if we were to become very near
neighbours. There is a nook in the broken archway
that might suit you, and should your new house prove
more commodious than this I could remove to it and
give up this, as you seem to have an affection for it.
If you were orderly tenants I should call upon you
once in a while as an encouragement."

" You hateful bird ! " shrieked Mag, as the owl
finished his insolent speech. " Who do you suppose
would waste their time building houses for you to live
in ? For my part, I would not soil a feather by enter-
ing my nest after you had set your foot in it, and as
for your company, pray make no favour of that, for I
think those are best off who are farthest from you,
you disagreeable creature!"

" Come, come, good Mrs. Margery ! " cried the owl,
sharply, showing his claws ov^er the side of the nest,
" it would be well for you to keep a civil tongue in
your head or you may chance to receive a little whole-
some correction that will teach you to mend your
manners. Gro, foolish bird," he added in a more solemn

MA*S. MARGERY PIE.

169

voice, " and let this lesson teach you wisdom for the
time to come. Had you stayed at home and minded
your own business, instead of flying from phice to
place gossiping about your neighbours, prating and
boasting of your own merits, your eggs would have
remained unbroken and yourself still in (juiet enjoy-
ment of your house, as I should not have known that
it was built in my domain. Let me tell you, Mrs.
Mag, that a lowly cot, though ever so meanly built,
where the mistress is wise and prudent, is far better
than a lofty palace that is badly governed."

With these words the bird of wisdom withdrew into
the magpie's nest, and burying his sharp beak among
the downy feathers of his breast, settled himself for a
comfortable nap.

Poor Mag turned away, humbled and mortified, to
seek a new home and lament over the misfortunes
she had brought upon herself and her family by her
foolish vanity and idle, gossiping habits.

i&-

iii'i

Zbc Mrena of *'Mcdtovc.**

It was about the middle of the month of May, on
a fine, sunny, breezy morning, that a pair of little
brown birds, looking somewhat weary and travel-
worn from their flight over the big Lake Ontario,
crossed the rapid Otonabee river near the village of
Lakefield, and flew to the veranda of a small cottage
not far from its shores, surrounded by a shady grove
of maple and beech trees.

The travellers settled themselves at once in a snug
corner under the overhanging roof. They were
quite at home. In this spot th^y had nested &^d
hatched their young families of wrens for several
preceding summers, and though the little pair were
growing old they did not forget their summer home,
but duly came back to it every year.

THE WRENS OF ''WESTOVE."

171

ly, on
little
avel-
tario,
ge of
ttage
throve

snug
were
ai}d
vera!
were
lome,

What led these little birds back year after year to
the same place \ No man, however wise, can tell
you. Neither can I, otherwise than that the great
and wise Qod had so ordered it, and the wild birds
obey the law of nature that He has given to them.

Our little pair of wrens did not begin to build at
once. No doubt they were very tired and must
rest and look for food the first thing. They flew
down through the grove to the river, and soon found
some worms :ad newly hatched water-flies ; then

172

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

'I' •

W:\

back to the bough of the white-barked birch tree
that grew on the grass plot close to the house, there
to pour out their joy in song. Clear, sweet and
cheering the notes sounded as they sat on the light
swaying sprays among the dancing catkins and new
leaves of the birch tree. It was holiday time with
the little pair, and for several days they courted and
caressed each other, chatting away in their bird
language, no doubt making plans for the future.

The robins had arrived, and were waiting for the
coming of their wives from the other side of the
water, having all in readiness to receive them. The
dear little yellow-hammers, too, were beginning to
build in the shrubbery, and the wrens, being sensible
birds, thought it was time they should get to work
also. They were tired of their frolic, and it would
never do for them to be idle while all the others
were so busy.

The first thing Jenny Wren did was to clear out
the rubbish and cobwebs that had accumulated in
the old nesting comer. To her great disgust she
found that a phoebe had taken possession of it, and
as she had always considered she had a vested right
in that particular corner, Jenny was very angry at
being thus supplanted by Mrs. Phoebe, the fly-catcher.

" Such a poor, miserable, untidy housekeeper as she

THE WRENS OF " WESTOVEr

173

is, too ! " cried Jenny. " Just look at the sort of nest
she is building ! I declare, it is made of all kinds of
rubbish — straws and sticks, mixed up with dead
leaves, moss and mud — the dirty thing ! I hope the
mistress will sweep it all down with the broom."

" Now, wifie," chirped the good husband, trying to
soothe and cheer his angry little mate, " never mind
old Phoebe ; no one expects anything tidy or neat in
what she builds. She knows, I expect, what suits
her and her partner and the young Phoebes."

But Jenny would not listen to a word of excuse
for her untidy neighbour. " Just see what a waste
of time and materials ! Here are two or three nests,
such as they are, that she has begun, and not one
finished or fit to be looked at."

Jenny did not see the sly glance of her partner s
bright eye as he said •

" Now, Jenny dear, look to home. You see our
nests are by no means models contrasted with the
yellow-bird's and black-cap's and the little humming-
bird's."

" Oh, yes, indeed," retorted Jenny, with a flirt of
her fan-like tail, " the humming-bird's ! A tiny
mite of a nest — you can seldom even see it — and the
eggs not bigger than peas ! " She forgot how small
her own eggs were, but Jenny was a pettish little

174

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

creature when she was crossed and out of humour,
as she was that day with Phoebe. She was very like
little people who, when they are angry, are apt to
lay cross things to anything or anybody.

After grumbling awhile she calmed down and ap-
peared to heed her husband's advice to look out
another corner, and presently sent him off to get a
May -fly or some other dainty of the like kind for
their supper.

Away he flew, gladly leaving her hard at work
under the roof of the veranda at the opposite comer
to their old abode. The change was not all for the
worse either, for Mrs. Jenny found a good store of
food in the new place, a lot of eggs in a white
silken bag which some spider had laid up, as he
thought, safely ; but hungry birds are not altogether
honest, and our little wren made a good meal on
what she discovered, yet was ready to share the
body of a shad-fly her thrifty partner brought from
the river.

Their hunger satisfied, and the question of the spot
for their nest being settled, our little wrens nestled
down side by side, tucked their wee brown heads
under their wings, and slept as soundlj. as wrens do
sleep till they are roused by the crowing of the cocks
in the village over the river.

i!«

THE WRENS OF ''WESTOVE:'

175

Up at the earliest dawn, they were soon at work
gathering tiny birch twigs and other small matters
to lay the foundation of their nest. They were not
very long housebuilding ; the work went on bravely,
and the nest was finished ready for Jenny to take
possession of it the following day.

Blithe and joyful were the songs of the pair when
the first wee white ^g^ was seen in the nest. A*
to Mrs. Jenny, she was altogether too proud of her
treasure, and when the phoebe, her neighbour, came
to finish one of her ill-made nests, she was called
upon to admire Jenny's lovely white ^^g.

" Dear me ! " said Phoebe, as she whisked her long
tail feathers to one side and peered into the nest, " is
that all you are making such a bray about ? I do
not see any such wonderful thing in that mite of an
®gg- I ^ill show you five or six of mine, larger and
with nice little lines and spots on them."

Jenny felt dreadfully hurt at this speech, and
never spoke of her eggs again to the rude phoebe.

For about two weeks our motherly little bird sat
over her eggs. I do not think, unless at night, that
the father-bird did anything in the way of tending
the eggs, but he took good care of his wife. He
brought her food all day long while she was brood-
ing over the nest, and, sitting on the tree close

J 76

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

beside her, he »a,ng his sweetest songs of love to cheer
her.

Great wu3 his pride and delight when one by one
Jenny showed him the four little fledglings in the
nest, No doubt both father and mother thought
their young birds were beauties, although they were
not like downy chickens, or ducklings, or goslings,
and it was beautiful to see the loving care they took
of them.

All day long the old birds were on the wing seek-
ing the sort of food the young ones needed. This
they had no difficulty in finding. There was no lack
of insect food, for the three-oared May-flies and shad-
flies were plentiful. The slender blue dragon-flies,
too, had risen from their water-beds at the bottom
of the lake and the river, and leaving their worn-out
gauzy dresses on bush or flower would rise and dance
reels and waltzes in the sunshine until they were
caught by the birds who fed upon them. A short
and happy life, while it lasts, have these beautiful
creatures. Such is His will who has thus made them
to enjoy the brief time He has given them here.

The wrens were a most happy family, full of life
and gaiety. The parent birds were loving and kind
to their little ones, and taught them to be kind to
one another. They coaxed them out of the nest on

THE IVFE:::> or - IVES TO /E.

the branches, and tru c:))v. tiiem to fly, taking them
longer distances eacii day until their wings were
strong and they were able to take care of themselves ;
and before long they would be able to sing their
bright, joyous songs and help to fill the woods with
music. They had plenty to eat, and they spent the
days very happily flitting about among the flowers
in the garden round the cottage, or in the leafy shade
of the maple and birch trees in the grove beyond.

One day, late in August, the old birds went away.
They gave no warning of their intended departure,
not even saying good-bye to their childreiv, Biownit;,
Flossie and Flutter, but silently and secretly left their
old nest in the verandti at " Westove." Whether they
died or flew a^vay over the great lake or the rapid
River Niaga:"a, i seRich of a warmer sunnier climate
to spend the .inter in, I do not know, but I never
saw thciii agaii!, and the young birds were left to
take care of th<^mfacives.

The family had been reduced to three. The young-
est, Fan, was not (|uick enough to fly out of the reacli
of a wicked old tabby cat, who pounced upon lier
and carried her ofl' to make a dainty titbit for her
hungry kittens, as well as providing a les'on in cat
education, her plan being tv» cultivat*^ in her young a

taste fo)' the finer deliccies oi" life in !>rder to en-
12

^\:s;'

178

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

courage an ability to possess themselves of tliem. The
othere missed Fan very much at first, but were so
busy and full of life that they soon grew used to being
without her.

For awhile they managed to get on, but soon the
sources of food became less plentiful. The May-flies
had been gone a long time, and spidei*s were getting
scarce. A change was going on everywhere and in
everything around them ; the swallows of all kinds,
the swifts, the white-breasted martins, the bank and
the chimney swallows, had been gathering in large
flocks as if preparing for flight, and strengthening
their wings by practice for a long journey. The
robins, too, were now more seldom seen prancing about
boldly near the houses and gardens. The blackbirds
were going off" in numbers, and there were only the
bluejays still coming to the orchards and chattering
over the fruit left on the trees. The golden-winged
flickers, who belong to the Woodpecker family, were
still to be seen, but our young wrens felt they must
be guided by the example of the dear little canaries
and the tiny warblers, who had come like their father
and mother, and were now preparing to seek a warmer
climate before the dreary days and cold winds ap-
peared.

September is a busy month with all the migratory

THE WRENS OF '^WESTOVE:'

170

birds, as well as with some of the wilil animals. The
birds must make ready to fly, and be strong and well
for their long hours on the wing when they have no
l)laee to light and rest upon. The wild creatui-es, foxes,
muskrats, woodchucks, and the black, red, grey and
ground squirrels, are all hard at work gathering and
storing their winter supplies of nuts, acorns, com,
seeds and roots, or burrowing their holes and making
them comfortable lodgings for the long f^sys of frost
and snow.

Our little wrens found themselves as busy as any
of the other birds, especially now that they were
thrown entirely upon their own resources, and had to
rely upon their own judgment and follow in perfect
obedience the laws set down for them by their great
All-wise Creator, and by which He governs His
children and guides them safely to the haven where
they would be.

So it was not very long after their parents' depart-
ure that Brownie, Flutter and Flossie made up their
minds to go away from Canada and pay a visit to
their relations in the United States, on the other side
of Lake Ontario, just as their father and mother had
done year after year.

Flutter was in a state of great excitement at the
prospect of such a fine holiday, with its opportunity

ISO

COT AND CRADLE STORIES,

of seeing the world. He said he meant to go first to
see his rich cousins, the Goldcreats, but Flossie and
Brownie were undecided whether it might not be
better to go south at once to their grand Carolina
relations.

They parted one fine September day and never met
again. I cannot tell you anything more about Flutter,
but if you will turn over to the next page you may
read what happened to Brownie and Flossie during
their travels.

Iticb Itelationa an& poor ®ne0.

HOIV OUR CANADIAN WRENS FARED AMONG THEIR

SOUTHERN COUSINS.

Brownie and Flossie had heard such good reports
of the hospitality of their cousins, the gold-crested
wrens, and of the grandeur of the wrens of Carolina,
that they made no longer tarrying than they could
help in crossing the Niagara River over to the neigh-
bouring State of New York, and thence to the genial
State of Pennsylvania. There they fell in with a
party of bluebirds with whom they had been intimate
during the summer. These were very glad to sec
them, and invited them to stay awhile and rest after
their long flight over the country. The weather was
soft and pleasant, and our little travellers enjoyed
the society of their old friends, who said th«/y would

182

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

be sure to receive a warm welcome from Scjuiro
ReguluK ami tlie rest of their rich cousins.

This was very cheering, and after getting some
directions from the kind bluebirds, they again stjirted
on their travels.

Flossie wanted to learn why their cousin v/as called
by such a fine name and title.

" Some call him ' King of the Wrens,' and you see
he carries a gold crown on his little head to show
his title and dignity."

" Oh, does wearing a crown make a king ? " asked
simple Flossie. " I wish Brownie had a gold crest on
his head."

But Brownie only remarked, " ' Handsome is that
handsome does.' I do not think that a yellow cap
would become a plain brown suit such as mine is."

Flossie, however, had her own notions. She liked
gay feathers and flowers, but she said no more.
Brownie had not the least fear of not meeting with
respect, though he did not wear a gold plume on
his little brown head.

It was not long before he and Flossie presented
themselves at the bower of "Rosedale," where the
family of Squire Goldcrest had a charming home.
Situated under the shade of a magnolia in full
bloom, it was indeed a lovely bowery spot, full of

H %

RICH RELATIONS AND POOR ONES. 1 8.1

fjweet scents from the bloHsoms of the trecA, and
glorious witli colour from the flowers in the tjarden
that surrounded it.

A burst of song from a pai*ty of young goldcrests
had attracted Brownie to the spot. He intro<luced
himself and Flossie as Canadian cousins, who had
come from the north side of Lake Ontario to piiy
their respects to Squire Goldcrest and his family.

Brownie was not ashamed of his birthplace and
breeding. Indeed he was proud of having been
hatched under the British flag. He knew its colours
well, as it had often waved over the nest on the
veranda of " Westove."

The Goldcrests are well-bred and courteous, al-
though perhaps a little too proud of the family
distinction, the crest they carry on their small heads.
This family expressed their pleasure at seeing their
small cousins, and invited them to help themselves
to whatever insect food was in season.

^Ti3. Goldcrest pointed out an apple-tree near by,
and bade Flossie make herself at home.

This was all very pleasant, and you may be sure
the weary little birds were greatly delighted at their
reception.

The orange grove seemed very much better than
their old home in Ontario, and they felt they were

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

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■tt IM 12.2
£ U£ 12.0

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Photographic

Sciences

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(716) •73-4503

184

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

fortunate in having fallen into such good quarters,
so gave themselves up to enjoy the pleasures that
surrounded them.

Flossie greatly admired the elegance of her rela-
tives* dr^ds and manners, the beautiful silky olive
tints were so much prettier than the coffee-brown
shade of her own plain dress, and she soon began to
feel unhappy because she had no fine ornaments or
bright-tinted feathers.

It was not long, either, before she heard sundry
remarks about the shabbiness of her and Brownie's
brown coats, and their want of stylish manners and
musical taste.

When she whispered her grievances to Brownie he
only replied, " Never mind, Flossie, our brown suits
are good enough for us. What do clothes matter,
anyway ? "

But when Flossie told him that they spoke of
them as " poor beggarly Canadian emigrants," he got
very indignant, and a coolness was soon evident
between them and their hosts.

Our little birds were not at all happy, and as time
passed on it became evident to them that they had
out-staid their welcome, so they resolved to make
their farewells and go off to Carolina to see their big
cousins there.

RICH RELATIONS AND POOR ONES. 185

This resolution was received with approval hy the
Goldcrests, who were indeed getting a little tired of
their company and quite ready to speed their parting.
When bidding Squire Goldcrest good-bye, he wished
them a safe journey, and added haughtily that " he
hoped they would meet with a warmer welcome and
better treatment than the Goldcrests had given them ;
but the Carolinas were a proud set, always asserting
their claims to being superior to the Goldcrests
because they were so much bigger, and their country
richer and hotter than the one we live in. They
wish every wren to bow down to them, but we Gold-
crests will do nothing of the kind. Possibly you
poor Canadians may."

This speech made Flossie rather nervous at the
thought of encountering the grand Carolinas; but
Brownie thought there might be a little jealousy
to prompt the Goldcrest's remark, and that after all,
though bigger, the Carolina cousins might be really
kinder than the purse-proud gold-crested wrens.

Nevertheless, after such a character given them of
the Carolina cousins, they felt more or less timid and
shy about introducing themselves to such grand
folks, and were really surprised at the hearty wel-
come they received at their hands.

The grand head of the family was so gracious and
kind that he soon put them at their ease. He only

186

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

joked them in a good-natured way about their size,
and called them " wee fellows, perfect pickaninnies."

" Little and good I hope you /irill find us, my great
cousin," replied Brownie, merrily and in happy con-
tent. Indeed, Brownie did not think size was of
much importance, or that his being little and brown
mattered much ; he was happy and well, had plenty
to eat, and was grateful for all the kindness they
were receiving from the big cousins who made no
ill-natured remarks about their brown coats.

The little wrens were certainly having a very good
time; the weather was warm and sunny, flies and
spiders were plentiful; there were the tenderest of
worms for the finding, many insects hidden in the
fruit and flowers, and they were at liberty to help
themselves. It was little wonder that they grew fat
and thriving.

The only drawback to perfect happiness was the
fear of strange birds, snakes and prowling animals.
The paroquets, too, often scared them with their loud
discordant cries and chattering voices, calling out,
" Who are you ? Who are you ?" a question which
appeared very rude to our Canadian birds.

However, they seldom ventured very far from
their nest, or away from their hoppitable southern
friends the Carolinas.

Although it was winter there, it was not cold as in

"Th.

RICH RELATIONS AND POOR ONES. 187

s^t

the winter months in Canada ; but as time went on
the heat began to be too oppressive, and a longing
came over the wrens for cooler shades and fresher
air. The home feeling at last got so strong that it
made them restless, and they felt that they must
hasten back to their old home in Ontario. Nothing
now was so sweet to them as a nest under the trees
in the grove near the place where they had first seen
the light, and where they had been fed and brooded
over by the old birds.

They knew there were kind hearts ready to wel-
come them, and bright eyes that would be watching
for their return, so they bade farewell to their kind
Carolina cousins, who had treated them so well, and
were told they would be glad to see them again
another year if they cared to travel south. The
Carolinas themselves were going west for change of
air, and would also be away for some months.

Our Canadians did not go back through Pennsyl-
vania, so 8»?w nothing more of the Goldcrest«. They
were in haste to reach the veranda at " Westove "
before any intruding phoebe, and once more take
possession of their own comer under the roof.

They arrived about the middle of May, and my
young readers may find them there in the summer,
busy, no doubt, and filling the air with their cheerful

songs.

(£be little SutlDere.

It was a soft, sweet summer evening. The wild bees
had gone to their nests, the flowers had closed their
petals, and the butterflies had folded their beautiful
wings and gone to rest. The moths, who love shade
better than sunshine, were flitting about enjoying
the cool air in the twilight. The white water-lilies,
too, had retired to their crystal halls under the
waters, and as twilight deepened the fire-fl' 3s rose on
wing, lighting up the gloom of the darkening forest
with their tiny sparks of light, now seen like falling
stars, now hidden from sight, as they appeared and
disappeared among the thick covert of the pines and
cedars.

The fire-fly is often seen high in the air among tht
loftiest of the forest trees, unlike the lowly English

THE LITTLE BUILDERS.

189

\ ■

bees
their
itiful
jhade

lilies,
• the
3e on
orest
lling
and
and

I the
^lish

glow-worm, which is found among the dewy grass in
mossy dells and lonely wooded lanes, revealed to the
<^ye by its emerald-tinted light, softer and less
brilliant than that of the fire-fly of our Canadian
woods.

On the slight leafy branch of a wild red cherry-
tree, close beside the cottage on the island of Minne-
wawa, sat a pair of pretty wood phoebes, very
lovingly nestled side by side.

The settlera call this bird " Peewee," from the ?of t
syllables, slowly repeated, which they utter, like
Pee-wee ! Pee-wee ! but Phoebe is the name usually
given to the little birds.

l*heir note can hardly be called a song, though
doubtless the birds know what it means. If we
knew the bird language, we might understand what
the phcebes are saying to each other this summer
night as they sit so lovingly cuddled together.

It may be only some such word as " darling " or
" dearie," but I think I can guess what it is all about,
what the wee wifie is saying to her mate.

"It is time for us, dearie, to be thinking about
making a nest," — to which he replies with a bright
twinkle of his black eye :

" The nights are dry apd warm, my darling wifie.
We need not trouble ourselves about building a house.

190

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

If you are cold, just lay your hecul against my warm
breast or under your own wing."

But the wee wifie was not thinking about cold
that warm June night, or indeed about herself at the
time. She whispered a few words in her companion's
ear. It was a secret, you see, but he soon guessed it
and said gaily :

" All right, Phoebe, my darling, I'll be up in the
morning before sunrise and set to work. You shall
find what a smart husband you have — not like some
of those selfish birds I could name who leave their
poor little partners all the work to do, building the
nest, and hatching and feeding their broods."

Phoebe was glad to know what a good active
partner sh6 had, and I am quite sure that Mr. Phoebe
was as good as his word.

Before the dew-drops had dried on the long grass
and herbage of the island, our brave little phoebe was
hard at work collecting tiny sticks, and hay, and fine
dry fibres from the roots of the old plants of former
seasons v*hat lay rotting in the soil. Tufts of lovely
moss, groen and fresh, he picked from the rocks and
bark of the trees. Here and there he found a feather
that had been dropped by some bird in its flight.
Altogether he brought a fine heap of odd materials
for his wife to choose from.

THE LITTLE BUILDERS.

191

At first Mistresa Phcebe did not appear to be satis*
fied with the place chosen by her partner for laying
the foundation of the nest. It was rather too public,
facing as it did the front door of the house ; but as
phcebes are known to liavv. a fancy for building in
sheds and under the shelter of verandas, and even
old bridges and such out-of-the-way places, on
second thoughts she did not find fault. She looked
with great approval at the heap of stuff he had
collected,and with hearty good- will the pretty pair
set to work.

The only tools they had to build with were their
tiny bills and the sharp claws of their little feet. With
these they managed to weave and twist and twine
the twigs and sticks and fibre together. The bills
took the place of scissors or knives, and with their
breasts they contr'ved to mould, shape and smooth
the whole into the proper form for a pho&'^'s nest.

All the time the little wife was busy making the
nest her husband wat) Hying to and fro supplying her
with just thfc very bit she was ready for. Now a
twig, then a bit of root-fibre like hair, or strips of
bass wood to lace th^ coarser materials together.
Again it was a bit of soft moss or grey lichen, or the
cast-off cocoon of a caterpillar, which she entwined
so cleverly with her deft little bill. He never kept

192

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

her waiting a moment, but flew to and fro all the
day long, never seeming to weary of helping the
busy little weaver.

When night came the work was done, and judging
from the appearance of the outside you would have
thought it a large house, and that Mrs. Phoebe was
making room for six or seven lodgere ; but the
phoebes seldom lay more than three or four eggs,
white, with a few pencil marks at one end, and the
deep cup-shaped hollow in the nest, moulded by the
little mother's breast, was just the size fitted for the
young birds when the eggs were hatched.

For about ten days the mother-bird sat over the
eggs, seldom leaving them and only for a few
minutes at a time. At night the faithful partner
of her cares sat beside his wife, and no doubt the
pair had sweet whisperings together about the
strange unhatched eggs and the young birds hidden
under the delicate shells, for the future comfo :''t and
safety of which, though unseen, they had ao carefully
provided.

Now, there was one other thing these little birds
did that I must tell you about. The young birds of
their family have no warm down upon them like
chickens, nor any feathers at all at first, so the
mother and father bird made a lovely silk mat to
cover the wee birdies.

THE LITTLE BUILDERS.

19n

The careful father-bird had found the dried stem
of the red-flowered swamp milkweed lying withered
on the ground. He stripped away the bark and tore
off the fine long silken fibres from the plant, and these
he carried to his wife, bit by bit. Many journeys it
cost him before he had collected enough, then together
they heckled and pounded the threads until they
became as fine and soft as silk, after which they
felted all into a lovely mat. It really was a beau-
tiful piece of work, and I wish my young friends
could see it.

But I must hurry on with my story, and tell how
the dear phoebes fed and cared for the tiny family
when they came out of the shell.

There were but three of them, and they did ot
look very pretty at first. They were very ba id
seemed to be all mouths as they sat huddled together
with their heads just visible over the edge of the
nest, and gaping when they saw the old birds coming
with a fly.

Mrs. Phoebe was very proud of her fledglings. "Are
they not dear beauties ? " she would say.

" All right, mammie dear," said her husband, "only
their mouths are too large, and are always gaping
when they hear me coming."

" Their mouths are no different from those of other
13

194

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

birds. All little birds have big mouths. Ours are not
uglier than the sparrows and the yellow-V^irds. and as
to young robins and catbirds ! Oh, my ! I am sure
our wee birdies ai*e perfect beauties compared with
those young frights."

So Mr. Phcebe said nothing more about the big
mouths of the three little ones, but only whispered
slyly. " I suppose all geese think their young ones
swans."

It was about the middle of July when Gracie and
Rosie, with their little brother Georgie, arrived for
their annual visit to the island.

The first thing the little girls noticed was the
phoebes' nest just over the upper sill of the front
entrance to the veranda.

" Those foolish little birds ! " cried Gracie. "If they
have not built their nest just opposite the glass door !
Why, we must pass under it every time we go in
or out."

" They must be very sociable and fond of com-
pany," laughed Rosie. " You know, they built above
the north door last year, and you remember how
anxious the poor birds looked whenever we passed
under the nest then."

" I think the dear little things must have forgotten
all about that," said Gracie, solemnly.

THE LITTLE BUILDERS,

195

The children watched the birds with much interest,
noting the ways of the wood phcebes and their little
ones. The parent birds were very shy, and often
would wait patiently with a worm ready to drop into
the open gaping mouths, till they saw a chance to
dart into the veranda and off again like a flash.

One day they seemed to go much more frequently,
heedless of the presence of anyone. It was evident
that their rapid flights to and from the nest in so
unusual a way had some special cause. Rosie thought
they had some secret to tell the little birds. Qracie
said they must be angry with them and were scolding
them, but their mother said, " No, the old birds are
teaching the young ones to fly, and you will find the
nest empty to-morrow."

And mamma was right ; the nest was empty, the
birds were flown, and the wood phoebe's " Pee- wee !
Pee-wee!" was not heard again that summer from
under the veranda at Minnewawa.

Zbc Stolen IDci^age**

" Richard, did you ever tell the boys of your first
voyage and shipwreck ? " asked Mr. Warren, as he
laid down the book he had been reading and looked
at his brother, a plain middle-aged seaman, whose
sunburnt complexion told of years passed under
foreign skies.

" No, brother, I have not ; there has always been
so much else to tell them that I have never thought
of it, but I will tell them now if they care to hear it.
It may serve as a lesson to the lads."

Captain Warren, turning his comfortably lined
chair to the fire, looked around at the family circle
of boys and girls whose attention had been attracted

Prom an incident that occurred during a gale on the east ooaat of England
in the yeair 18t4.

THE STOLEN VOYAGE.

107

by their fathers question. A story from Uncle
Richard was always delightful, aid one of sea-
faring and adventure, as this promised to be, excited
additional interest.

" Well, you know, boys, that your grandmother
was left a widow when your father and I were small
children. I was very little more than six years old,
and your father about five.

" Your grandmother was left without anything to
live on, so she was glad to collect a few things in her
house and move to a small cottage which stood on
the borders of a wide common, distant about two
miles from the fishing village of Southwold, in one
of the eastern counties, and a short distance from
*'ie sea beach.

" The little cottage was owned by Uncle Philip,
our mother's brother. Uncle Philip was captain and
part owner of the WUliam and Mary, a small
trading vessel which made short voyages to and
from Leith and London — sometimes she went as far
as the Baltic and other ports as distant.

" Our uncle let mother have the cottage, rent free,
staying with us for a few days at a time when his
vessel was in the harbour or undergoing repairs. He
was a good-natured, careless sort of a man, acting for
the most part rather on the impulse of the moment

198

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

than from due reflection ; yet he was kind and
generous, very good to our dear mother, and fond of
us boys. He was always ready to contribute to our
enjoyment, and we hailed the season of his visiting
the cottage as a time of unrestrained pleasure.

" It was to no purpose that our mother reproved us
when Uncle Philip was at home ; he laughed at all
our pranks and justified all our acts of disobedience
as faults which reason and time would cure, and in
fact, our wildest tricks were no faults in his eyes.

" One of our favourite amusements was going to
the great pond on the heath to sail our ' fleet,' as
we called a collection of little boats which we had
carved for ourselves. Once we carried off the wash-
ing tub, which caused mother some trouble and
delay, and we got a good rating for it. The depth
of the pond made mother very uneasy lest any
accident should happen to us when we were playing
on its slippery banks, and when we went out to
play her last words from the open door were often,
* Be sure, boys, you do not go to the pond.'

" I am sorry to say that we did not always give
heed to the warning, but whenever we could elude
her watchful eye we were sure to take the path to
the scene of this forbidden pleasure.

"I well remember a quarrel that took place be-

THE STOLEN VOYAGE.

199

tween my poor mother and Uncle Philip on this very
subject. She had detected us sailing our boats on
the pond — we had soiled and wetted our clothes, and
your father had only just recovered from the measles
and had a sore throat. My mother was very angry
with us both and particularly with me, being the
eldest, for leading your father into mischief and
danger. She was proceeding to punish me when
uncle interfered to prevent it, saying we were but
showing our love for the sea betimes.

" ' As to the lads, sister,' he said, in his off-hand
way, ' they are brave lads, and as soon as they are
old enough shall go to sea with me, and depend upon
it I will make good seamen of them.'

" At this poor mother fell a-crying, for she did not
wish us to be sailors ; she said it was a hard life and
few sailors were God-fearing men.

" This angered her brother, and he swore that we
should go to sea if he liked, and be none the worse
men if we did.

*" Ah, Philip, brother Philip,* said my mother, * when
did you ever see the blessing of God fall upon un-
dutif ul children ? How can you encourage these
boys in acts of wilful disobedience to their widowed
mother ? ' ,

•' Uncle Philip said nothing, but he looked hurt

200

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

and thoughtful all the rest of the day. He went
away the following morning, and my mother never
saw him again. I do not think there was any
angry feeling between them when they parted.
Uncle Philip felt that he had been wrong, and
mother saw it, so they parted very affectionately.

" Some months after, on a fine afternoon in the
latter end of October, your grandmother sent us out
with a basket to gather mushrooms on the heath.

" Having wearied ourselves in gathering the mush-
rooms, for which we had strolled near to the edge of
the heath, where it terminated in the high bank or
cliff, below which lay the shingly beach and ever-
sounding sea, we sat down on a heathy knoll under
the shelter of a clump of holly trees. This was one
of our favourite retreats at all seasons of the year.
The holly trees grew close to the ground, and being
very thick, made a fine shelter from either sun or
wind. ,

"We sat down on the dry ferns and moss, and
enjoyed the scene before us. We liked watching the
flights of silvery- winged sea-gulls and other sea-birds
that flitted over our heads or dropped one by one on
the quiet waters of the ' Broad,* a sheet of salt water
which extended for some distance inland and was a
great breeding-place for sea-birds of all kinds.

THE STOLEN I'OVAGE.

201

"'That looks very much like uncle's ship, the
William and Mary* said he.

" Uncle Philip had taught us to distinguish one sort
of vessel from another, and to know many a one by
the trim of its sails, and we knew his old craft as well
as if we had seen the figure-head or the painted name
below it.

" * I wonder,' said your father, 'if uncle can see us?*

'* * Let us tie this handkerchief to a stick and wave
it, and perhaps he will answer,' I said.

" There was a stick slung through the handle of our
basket, and we proceeded at once to carry out the
plan. We knew uncle would be on deck looking out
for the old cottage on the heath ; and sure enough he
was, for in a few minutes after the elevation of our
flag, a boat was lowered from the ship's side, and
full of glee we watched her steering straight for the
beach in a line with the steep path that wound up
the side of the cliff. With a shout of delight we ran
down to meet her.

" Our loud huzzas were answered by uncle's
familiar 'Aye, aye,' as the keel of the boat grated on
the shingle.

" ' Well, boys,' said Uncle Philip, * I have just run
the boat ashore for five minutes to shake hands with
you and say good-bye before the brig sails for New-

202

cor AND CRADLE STORIES.

castle. We are out for coals this trip. I caught
sight of your bit of bunting from the hill, and if you
have a mind for a bit of a cruise, why, as you have
never been aboard the William and Mary, and as it
is a promise of long st.anding, I don't mind if I take
you out now. The tide will serve for an hour to come,
and that leaves us time enough to get back before we
heave anchor.'

" You may suppose we were pleased at this. We
had long wanted to see the ship, and joyfully hailed
the opportunity. Your father was already in the
boat, and I was preparing to follow him when uncle
called out :

" • Avast a bit there, you Richard Warren ; step
home and ask your mother's leave, or maybe, boys,
we shall get into hot water for sailing without orders
from the commander-in-chief. And hark 'ee, lad, be
back in the shaking out of a tops'le reef.*

"Off I set, scampering up the steep cliff like a
frightened hare in a direct line for the cottage door.
Panting and breathless I presented myself before my
mother, who, without listening to a word of my pas-
sionate entreaties to be allowed to go with my uncle,
gave a positive denial to my petition, and asked me
angrily why I had not brought home the basket of
mushrooms, bidding me begone and fetch them home
without any further delay.

THE STOLEN VOYAGE.

20a

>■::-

" With a dogged lcx)k and sullen step I turned
slowly toward the beach, my brow clouding as I went
with ill -suppressed resentment and disappointment ;
but wlien my eye caught once more the little boat
rocking on the edge of the smooth water, my uncle at
the helm and your father's face full of joyful expecta-
tion, a sudden thought flashed across my mind, the C
I would conceal my mother's refusal and no one would
suspect me of falsehood. I even said to myself, I am
sure she would have let us go if uncle had been there
to ask her, and only she was cross about the mush-
rooms she might have said yes. Yet to go in direct
disobedience to her command, — well, I shall get a
scolding and a few blows, and maybe no supper to-
night, but then Arthur will not be blamed. So I
set the pleasure against the punishment, and said to
myself, * Well, I don't care, I'll go.'

" I slackened my pace to deliberate, for something
just then seemed to say in my own heart, * It is not
the punishment only. You are doing wrong, and
God will mark it against you.'

*' The next moment I heard Uncle Philip's shrill
whistle urging me to quicken my steps, and my
brother's eager question, ' May we go ? ' decided me,
and in an unlucky moment I replied :

" * Yes, yes, we may go,' and giving my hand to

204

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

Powell, the sailor who (xjcupied the rower's bench, I
leaped into the boat. Uncle cried out, ' Give way ! *
and off we flew over the smooth water as swift as a
bird through the air. All my scruples of conscience
were forgotten as I gave myself up to the delight of
the moment. ^

" I think uncle had either forgotten his promise to
take us to the brig, cr perhaps the delay in sending
me to ask our mother's leave made him think he had
not time to do so.

" We had coasted along for a short time, when he
proposed putting us ashoie, but we entreated him in
the most vehement manner to keep his promise and
take us aboard the brig.

"For some moments he remained firm in his re-
fusal, but we persisted, urging him not to break his
promise, till, overcome by our entreaties, he bade
Powell pull off into deep water. Half an hour's
rowing brought us alongside the Willicum and Mary,
and in another minute we stood on her deck fall of
wonder at everything we sav The masts, sails,
compass, rudder, capstan, the boom, each rope and bit
of canvas in turn attracted our attention — we wanted
to be told the names and uses of everything on
board. »

" Now, it happened that during uncle's absence the

the

THE STOLEN VOYAGE.

205

mate bad iiaglected to execute some order, or had
done it amiss. My uncle, though a good-humoured
man when he was ashore, was very strict and hasty
on board the brig, and he got into a violent passion,
swearing at the sailors most dreadfully, at which
your father and I were so terrified that we retreated
down the companion-way into the little cabin below
to be out of hearing of his angry words.

" I suppose our poor uncle quite forgot he had his
nephews on board, and we, terrified by his blustering
voice and the hoarse bawling of the men, dared not
venture into his presence.

" We heard the noise of the anchor being weighed,
and could not understand what the bustle and heavy
trampling overhead could be about. The gradual
decline of daylight and the deepening gloom around
us made us think of home, and wish we were once
more within it.

" We began to perceive an unusual motion in the
vessel, and could hear the waters dashing against her
sides. The brig was under way, and fast pursuing
her northern voyage. It was evident that our uncle
had forgotten us.

" Urged by feelings of anxiety that could no longer
be controlled, we crept up to the deck and ventured
to look about in the hope of catching Powell's eye,

206

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

but he was up in the rigging. Uncle was pacing the
deck in a very ill-humour, his eyes fix( . the
shi'ouds, and too much engaged in scolding the men
who were shifting the sails to notice us.

"'Richard, what shall we do?' whispered your
father, as he looked uneasily towards the fast-reced-
ing shore. ' What will poor mother say ? she will
be so frightened at our not coming home.'

" These words dyed my cheeks with blushes, and
then the thought of my falsehood and disobedience
ruslied into my mind. I felt like a condemned and
guilty criminal, and was dumb with shame and
remorse. I dared not confess to my innocent brother
the wicked part I had acted, but stood a guilty
wretch with eyes bent on the deck, unable to say
a word.

" I would have given the world, had all its riches
been at my command, to have been quietly seated
beside my poor mother's cottage fire.

" Meanwhile your father had ventured to approach
his uncle, and watching a favourable moment asked
him when the boat was going to put us ashore.

" The sound of his tremulous, anxious voice seemed
to recall| Uncle Philip to himself. He had quite for-
gotten us. Regarding him with an expression of
vexation and perplexity, he turned to Powell.

THE STOLEN VOYAGE,

207

" ' A pretty go, this.' he said, ' I forgot the lads.
What's to be done now ? '

" ' Captain, there's no help for it,' said the sailor,
casting his eye along the line of coast ; ' there's a
heavy sea, and a lee shore, the brig's under way
and night's coining on. Time and tide stay for no
man, nor boys either ; the lads must take their
chances with the brig.'

"'There is no question about the matter,' grum-
bled out Hardy, the mate. ' There'll be dirty weather
before morning and no mistake, and we're too far
out to stop now.'

" My uncle was in a thorough ill-humour with
himself, with us and the whole ship's crew. I heard
him say to Powell that in case we fell in with a
vessel bound to the port he would put us aboard
with orders to make our way home as best we could,
as he was uneasy at the trouble that our absence
would occasion our mother.

" The thought of my unhappy mother and her night
of anxious watching made my heart sink within me.
I felt as if I were sufficiently punished for my fault,
but heavier things were in store.

"Your father, who was by nature more delicate
than I, began to feel all the deadly sensations of sea-
sickness, and was soon too ill to remain on deck.

208

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

My uncle carried him down below, and putting him
into a spare berth in the cabin, left me to watch
beside him.

" We pas8ed a most miserable night. The pitching
and rolling of the vessel, the thundering of the waves
and the creaking and rattling of the sails and ropes,
together with the horrible sickness, made my head
ache and completely bewildered my brain. At last
I fell asleep on the cabin floor, and remembered no
more of what passed until uncle came down at day-
light and told us there had been a heavy gale of
wind during the night, and that it was still blowing
hard. He gave us some salt beef and biscuit for
breakfast, and a tin mug or pannikin,' as sailors call
it, of tea, and bade us keep quiet, as there was a
heavy sea and the rain was falling in torrents.

" We were cold and miserable, and the sight of food
only made us worse. We could not help noticing
that poor old uncle looked anxious. Several times
he said earnestly, ' Lads, I would give a great deal if
I could see you both safe ashore ! '

" I think that day was the worst and most comfort-
less I ever experienced. The brig rolled and pitched
so much that we could not keep our feet. If we
ventured to move we were thrown down, and soon
were sorely battered and bruised by being thrown

THE STOLEN VOYAGE.

209

against the sides of the berth and other fixtures in
the cabin.

•' Uncle Philip only visited us for a few minutes at
a time to give us food and try to cheer our spirits,
but there was a harassed and painfully anxious
expression on his face which did not escape us.

" Toward evening the heavy rain ceased, but with
the stormy sunset the wind, which had lulled a little,
rose and by degrees increased till it blew a perfect
hurricane. The sailors had put up the dead lights to
keep the waves from breaking in the cabin lights,
and lit a lamp to supply the place of the daylight.

" As night wore on the gale increased. About the
mid-watch my uncle came down, looking worn and
weary. He broke a morsel of biscuit and drank some
brandy, of which he gave us both a mouthful, forcing
us to take it, as he said we should grow weak unless
we did so.

" I asked him if he could not turn in for an hour
and try to sleep, but he shook his grey head. His
eyes were full of tears as he bade me get into the
berth.

" ' Be sure, Dick,' he said, ' do not forget to say
your prayers. We need all the help of Almighty
God this night more than we ever did in our lives
before.'

210

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

m :

" I knelt down by the side of the berth, and uncle
on a sea chest. I heard him say, ' O Lord, have
mercy; have mercy upon our souls, and save these
children, for Christ's sake.'

" He rose saying to himself, 'A fearful night indeed,
but the will of the Lord be done.'

" While he was yet speaking a dreadful crash was
heard on deck, followed by a cry that struck terror
to our hearts. Poor uncle hurried up on deck and we
saw him no more.

"There was a roaring, rushing sound above our
heads as of the sweep of a flood of water.

" * Richard,' cried your father, starting up in the
berth, * the vessel is going down ! My mother ! Oh,
my poor mother! '

"His words wrung my heart with agony, and throw-
ing myself down beside him, in a voice hardly audible
from grief and terror, I confessed what I had done,
and begged him to forgive me for bringing him into
this fearful peril, and besought him to pray to God
to forgive my great sin.

" Boys, he never reproached me, nor through the
long hours of misery and danger that followed did
he say one word to add to my grief and remorse.
Young as I then was, for I had not completed my
eleventh year, I was deeply touched by this proof of

THE STOLEN VOYAGE.

211

his brotherly kindness and forbearance. I never for-
got it, and I never shall."

As he said these words Captain Warren extended
his hand toward his brother. There was silent but
^quent affection in the warm pressure with whicli
Arthur Warren returned the grasp of brotherly love.
It spoke the feelings of his heart more eloquently
than a thousand words could have done.

"Well, boys," continued Captain Warren, "we passed
that awful night in prayer and watching. At times
we strained our ears to listen for the sound of uncle's
voice, or the hoarse bawling of the sailors, which we
had caught at intervals all through the storm, but all
was silent, we heard only the thundering of the waves
ahd the roar of the blast. We were, in fact, the only
creatures left alive on that devoted ship.

" As soon as the first gleam of day reached the cabin
we ascended the ladder, where an awful scene met
our eyea

" The ship lay a complete wreck on the water, her
masts gone, her rudder unshipped, her rigging rent
away, her bulwarks torn. The waves had swept the
deck clean of everything.

" How can I describe the terror of your father and
myself when we found ourselves alone in the desolate

212

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

l\M

ship as it lay tossed hither and thither by the white
waves, a mere spot on that vast expanse of water !

" It was no use crying out in our despair, there was
no one to hear, our uncle and his men were fathoms
deep in the sea. We strained our eyes through the
streaming tears in the hope of descrying some friendly
sail, but there was none in sight, and our mastless
hulk continued to drive before the merciless fury of
the gale.

" From the wet and slippery deck we were driven
by the lashing fury of the spray and the down-pour-
ing rain, which began once more to fall in torrents,
and we retreated sad and miserable to the shelter of
the cabin, where we passed another most miserable
day.

" We climbed into our berths, having secured some
biscuits, for grief rarely destroys the sense of hunger
in children, and there we remained, sometimes losing
consciousness of our dreary situation in sleep. When
awake we twined our arms together and looked into
each otlier's faces as if to ask that counsel which
neither could give, or we watched the stream of light
as it gradually faded into the dim, uncertain grey
of twilight.

" Often during that melancholy day did we kneel
with clasped hands and lift up our voices crying to the

THE STOLEN VOYAGE.

213

Almighty to preserve uh, and then, weary with grief,
would lie down and sleep. Thus wore away the
longest day I ever remember to have spent.

" ' Weeping may endure lor a night, but joy
Cometh in the morning.' The day dawned brilliantly.
The storm had subsided, and our vessel now merely
rolled like a log on the surface of the water.

The sun had risen gloriously when we went up on
deck, and it was with a wild cry of delight that we
saw a schooner bearing down upon us. Presently a
boat came dancing over the waves, and in a few
minutes one of her crew stood upon our deck. Then
we felt that help had indeed come, and throwing our
arms around each other we wept and laughed for joy.

" The hearts of the rough seamen were moved when
they heard the tale we had to tell. We were soon on
board the schooner, and the wreck was taken posses-
sion of and towed into Yarmouth, to which port their
vessel was bound.

" Captain Holly and his crew were most kind to us.
On our reaching Yarmouth he took us to his own
home, and despatched a trusty messenger to acquaint
our mother with the fact, and to bring her back to
Yarmouth that he might have the satisfaction of
being present at our meeting, and to smooth away all
the anger toward me, if any such should remain.

214

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

" At the sight of her lost ones all feelings of anger
and grief were alike forgotten. Her eyes overflowed
with tears of thankfulness, and she lifted up her voice
in grateful acknowledgment to Him who had looked
upon the fatherless and redeemed them from the
perils of the mighty deep.

" And now, my dear children, let these things teach
you never under any temptation to conceal the truth,
or in order to gratify yourselves disobey your parents,
and above all things, to be thankful to Qod for all
His mercies."

nger
>wed
oice
)ked
the

ach

uth,

nts,

ball

^be Svpi00 "toerbi^Bo? an^ *t0
aipine fDouee.

Herman and Berta Switzer were the children of
a poor soldier's widow who lived in a small cabin,
called a chUlet, in one of the lovely valleys among
the Alps of Switzerland.

The spot was very rugged, full of jutting rocks and
deep gorges worn by the wintry torrents, and spring
was always late in visiting it, the sun having but
little access to the earth to warm it and bring
forth buds and blossoms.

Many persons would have left it for some more
favoured locality, but the Swiss peasantry love their
wild mountainous country and their Alpine homes,
rude and bleak though they may seem to strangers:
They make the most of the blessings they possess and

216

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

m% 1 '

thank the Giver of all good for them, and think their
Switzerland the best country in the world. If it
were not, they say, foreigners from all parts of the
globe would not come to visit it as they do every
year.

The Swiss are remarkable for industry, ingenuity
and frugality. The men are brave, hardy and ener-
getic ; nor are the women less so than the men. Much
of the field work is done by the women, while the
husbands and sons follow the more difficult and peril-
ous life of the hunter or guide in the wild passes of
the mountains. The wives and daughters patiently
cultivate the garden, carrying manure and earth on
their backs in baskets to enrich some small field or
flat on the side of the mountain, where they will raise
a few bushels of oats and barley.

Such a field, of about half an acre in extent, had
thus been made to yield a scanty supply of grain and
roots by the widow Switzer and her children. This
with the milk of a small flock of goats, a little honey
from the hives of the wild rock bees, some hard cheese
made from the goats' milk, and such small supplies of
meat as they procured from snaring the mountain
conies and hares, the family contrived to live, if not
luxuriously, yet with comfort.

But hard times sometimes came. The cold late

THE SIV/SS HERD- BOY.

217

springs kept back the grain from ripening, floods
swept the newly sown seed out of the ground, or the
wild goats, the ibex and chamois, browsed upon the
tender blade when it showed promise of a fair crop.

To prevent this last misfortune it was Herman's
and Berta's task to rise at earliest dawn and watch the
field and chase away the wild animals. Besides the
larger animals they had to watch for, there were the
rock conies and the Alpine mouse or marmot.

The children knew all the ways and habits of
these wild creatures. They knew where the cautious
chamois and the wary ibex hid their tender kidlings
in the mountain gorges, spots where the foot of man,
however venturous, had never dared to approach.
Herman could point out to his sister the tall pine tree
that had twisted its roots so deeply in the rifted rock
that no storm could move it, and where the lordly
eagle had its eyry and had built its nest and reared
its young ones year after year unmolested by the
hunter. He knew where the bright-eyed, sharp-
winged falcon that soared so high above their heads,
had its nest.

The simple loving nature of the boy took pleasure
in watching and studying the habits of the birds and
animals he met with in their native haunts. He
could imitate the songs of the birds and the cries of

218

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

the wild beasts, and was so great an adept at this
natural music that he could lure the female from her
perch to seek her mate. He could imitate the whist-
ling cry of the marmot, the bark of the hill-fox, the
bleat of the kid, or the call of the dam to her young,
and by the last many a one was brought within the
range of his cross-bow or sling.

Brave and hearty, Herman was also gentle and
kind. Like David he would have killed the lion or
the bear in defence of his flocks, and would have
carried the lame and the helpless lambs in his arms.
Among the herd-boys who frequented the mountain
pasture he was friendly and kind, but if need required
he could hold his own with the stoutest of them. Yet
he was no brawler, and while he firmly defended his
rights he quarrelled with no one, going his own way
peacefully, ever ready to lend a helping hand to a
companion in danger or distress.

Bei'ta, a gentle, dutiful little girl, was younger than
her brother, and like him in many ways. They were
a great comfort to their mother, and cheered her
lonely life and widowed heart.

During the pasturing season, Herman, now a fine
healthy lad of twelve years of age, earned a scanty
living for his mother and sister by keeping the flocks
and herds of a farmer who lived in the neighbouring
valley.

THE SWISS HERD- BOY.

219

During the long cold months of winter, when the
inhabitants of the Alpine valleys are shut up as in a
prison, Herman and Berta were not idle. The little
flock of goats that were housed under the roof of the
chalet, as the cottages are called in that country, have
to be tended and fed. Stores of dried herbage and
roots from the garden had been carefully garnered
during the warm season for their sustenance.

Herman had been taught by his uncle, an aged
Hian who sometimes visited the chalet, to carve
wooden toys, to make cups, bowls and platters, and
to ornament some of the better sort with such simple
devices as ears of wheat, barley or oats cut in the
wood as a border. For such work he found occasional
purchasers among the better class of farmers' wives,
or at the fairs held in the neighl)ouring towns.

Herman, as I said before, was well versed in the
minor arts of the hunter and trapper. He had dis-
covered the holes and burrows of the marmots in the
rocks, and often drew them from their winter retreats.
The flesh served for food and the skins brought
a small sum, or he made them up into caps and
mittens for himself and Berta.

He took a great fancy to one of these little animals.
It was very young when he caught it, and he soon
contrived to attach it to him and to teach it many

220

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

little tricks. In the coune of itn training it became
very obedient, and would do many things at his
bidding.

Mouzelle, for so he named the marmot, would sit
up on its haunches with a small reed stick balanced
across its nose, or would hold it in its fore paws, which
were flexible and almost like hands, and dance on its
hind legs to the sound of that inspiriting air, the
" BaviA dea vackes," or " Herd-boy's Call to his Cows,"
keeping good time to the notes breathed through a
little pipe that his master had v^ade and was accus-
tomed to play upon when keeping the flocks and
herds on the mountains.

The herdsmen as they sauntered home at sunset
would often stop to listen to Herman s music and
watch with great delight the movements of the
marmot, who seemed to imitate the step of its young
master as he danced and played.

" If I were you, Herman, I would go to the great
fair at Altdorf ," said one of the neighbours as he leant
on the top of the ironshod staff called an alpenstock,
and gazed with admiring eyes at the little creature.

" And what should I go to Altdorf for, Carl Graaf ?
I have no toys to sell, not even a bowl or a platter for
the salesman at the fair ; I have had no time for
that work since the flood came.

HERMAN AND HIS MARMOT.

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

•:, I
i

■ i

" You should take your Mouzelle to the fair," said
Carl.

" What I Mouzelle, my darling pet ! I shovild kiae
him in the fair among the crowd. No, no. Carl, I
have no business at the great fair this year, and no
money to spend withal," said Herman, sorrowfully.

"The greater need of turning an honest penny,
child," was Carl Graaf s reply.

" But how, good Carl ? "

'• Listen to me, child. The world runs after shows
and rare sights of all kind& Franz Reusler, who has
the caravan with the lions and tigers and giants and
dwarfs and such outlandish animals, drew scarcely
more money than the man with the dancing dogs and
the monkeys and the learned pig and talking magpie.
For my part I was half afraid that some of those big
hungry-looking beasts would break the bars .Jl their
cages and jump out upon us, or maybe eat up a baby
or two at a snap, for there were lots of those innocents
in the crowd ; and to my mind, Herman, it is more
wonderful to hear a bird talk like a wise man, and a
stupid pig tell a man or woman's fortune by the cards,
and what the hour of the day is by his fore feet, than
seeing lions and tigers eat poor marmots and dogs
and hares. Ugh ! that is an ugly sight.

" Bah ! I had a young wolf cub and a bear, and

; 1 i

KX-\

THE SWISS HERD BOY.

223

and

they were as tame as your little fawn was, but I had
to shoot them at last, for Carline, when she came
home from the silk-winding If st year, took it into her
silly head to be afraid of bruin, and declared the wolf
cub cast hungry eyes at Fridolin whenever the little
fellow passed near his kennel."

" But I do not see what good it would be to take
Mouzelle to the fair," said Hennan.

" Well, stupid, do you not see," said Carl, giving
Herman a good-natured poke with his alpenstock,
" that a marmot that can dance as well as yours does,
and can keep such good time to the music, and minds
all you say to him, is well worth paying a bit of
money to see? Just you go to the fair and see if you
do not come back with money enough in your pouch
to buy your good mother a warm linsey petticoat for
the winter, and maybe a red ribbon for little Berta,"
and Carl laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

" Ah, indeed, Carl, that would be something to talk
about," said the little fellow, brightening. " A warm
petticoat for mother, and it should be black and red
too, for that looks gay and so warm when the snow
comes, and would match Berta's red ribbon. But,
Mouzelle, if I should lose you or any harm should
befall you in the crowd ! Ah, that would be too
bad to happen."

224

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

r-j'i

"Oh, never fear, lad. No harm will happen to
Mouzelle. We shall all go to the fair, wife and I and
the little ones. Pauline and Carline are ccming
home to-night to go with us, and you may go with us
too. I go every year, if only to see the great tower
dressed with evergreen and laurel and the flags of
the free Cantons, and the statue of our great hero,
William Tell, who cleft the apple off his son's head.
Hurrah for William Tell and the free Cantons ! " and
waving his fur cap above his head, Carl Graaf went
down the valley.

" It is a pretty little beast and very well taught,
too," said a soft fawning voice behind Herman, who
looking round perceived, standing close by, a man
whom he had not noticed before.

The stranger was shabbily dressed and had a
rushen flail basket, such as carpenters carry tools in,
slung over his shoulder. He spoke low and softly,
but had a shai'p, cunning expression which did not
suit his voice.

" Let me see your marmot go through his exercise,
master," said the traveller, seating himself on a block
of stone near the door of the chMet.

Herman complied at once with the request, not a
little proud of the exploits of his pet and the excla-
mations of delight from the stranger, who cried out
repeatedly, " Bravo ! Bravo I Encore I"

THE SWISS HERD BOY.

225

happen to
ind I and
B coming

with us
eat tower

fla;a^ of
eat hero,
•n's head.
tis!" and
laf went

taught,

an, who

a man

had a
tools in,

1 softly,
iid not

xercise,
a block

t, not a

excla-

ed out

The boy did not undcratand what this last word
meant until the man, pitying his ignorance, told him
it meant to repeat over again.

" You will make quite a fortune at the fair with
that mouse of yours," stiid: the man as he tried to
imitate the notes of the Swiss air that Herman
had been playing on his flute and make the marmot
dance, but finding it no easy task he soon tired, and
turning to Herman said, "Boy, if you will sell the
mouse I will give you this piece of silver for it. A
large price for a marmot;" and he held up a coin
between his finger and thumb.

" I do not wish to sell my dear Mouzelle," hastily
replied Herman. " I love it too well to part from it.
No, my pet," he added, bending his face fondly
over the soft velvet head of the mannot, " I will not
sell you for twenty gretchen. No, not for all the
richest man could ofler me, for I love you too dearly,
my clever little pet.*'

" I suppose," said the man, with a sneer, " that you
are fool enough to believe all yon ass of a goatherd
said to you about making a lot of money at the fair,
as if people go there only to throw away inoney and
time seeing a stupid marmot dance."

" Why," said the boy, opening his blue eyes very
wide, " did you not praise my marmot yourself, and

226

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

tell me that I had better go to the fair with him, for
I should make a fortune by showing off his tricks ? "

At this speech the man threw himself back and
laughed so long and so loudly that Herman was
greatly astonished at him.'

" Come, now," he said at last, " this is a great joke.
I did not think you had been so green as to believe
everything you hear. So you took all I said for
truth, did you?"

" I would not have told you an untruth myself, and
that is why I believed what you said."

" Well, well, child, you are a good boy, no doubt,
and I am very glad to find you are honest and truth-
ful. Now just step in and get me a cup of goat's
milk and a morsel of rye bread. Here is a coin to
pay you for it. You see that I am honest; yes, I
am honest."

" Yes, indeed, you are," said Herman, " and I will
bring you a bowl of milk and some cheese to eat
with your bread."

"Don't hurry yourself, child," said the traveller.
" I can sit here and rest myself a bit till you come
back;" and crossing his legs he leaned back as one
that was very weary from long walking, and shut his
eyes as if to take a nap.

Herman was absent some minutes. His mother

THE SWISS HERD-BOY,

227

and sister were both out working in the field above,
and It took him some time to get the milk and
bread and cheese.

"I will place the things nicely on the table and
then ask the stranger to come in and rest awhile,
for the good Book says, 'Use hospitality, nothing
grudging, for thereby some have entertained angels
unawares.' I dare say mother will ask him to stay
all night ; he can have a part of my bed, he is not
very big."

Full of kindly feeling, Herman busied himself to
set the humble fare in tempting array, and after
putting the cushion from his mother s chair on that
placed ready for his guest, he stepped out to summon
him to the frugal meal.

But the man was nowhere to be seen ; the basket
and stick he had carried were gone, and after the
first moment of surprise Herman discovered to his
dismay that his flute and his pet, his darling Mou-
zelle, bad also disappeared.

In vain he ran hither and thither, calling upon the
stranger and whistling the notes of an air which
invariably drew the marmot from its hiding-place.
No marmot was to be seen running to him to climb
his leg and nestle its soft head in his breast, or lick
his now tearrstained face.

228

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

The treachery of the wayfaring man filled Herman
with distress.

" What a wicked man ! what a wicked man ! he
will never go to heaven ! He is a liar and a robber.
It is better to be poor than to steal," he repeated,
crying bitterly for his lost pet.

In the midst of his sorrow the wife of Carl Graaf
came by. It was so rare to see anjrthing but smiles
upon Herman's face that the good woman was thun-
derstruck. She thought some great calamity had
befallen her poor neighbour, but when Herman told
of how he had been robbed, she said :

" Cheer up, child, and dry your eyes. All will yet
be well. Doubtless the vile cheat has taken your
mouse to the fair to show it off there. It may be the
same fellow that had the cage of white mice last
year. A cruel creature he is. I know him well and
we will find him out. You shall go with Carl and
me to the fair to-morrow. We shall start before day-
break, for there is a late moon to light us. The
children are all going, and you shall have your share
with them. Nay, not a word. I have bread and
cheese and apples. You shall not want, never fear,
while we have plenty. I have mitts, and socks, and
yam of my own spinning and knitting to sell at
the fair.

THE SWISS HERD- BOY.

220

" Keep a good heart, my boy, you will have your
Alpine mouse again. The good Lord never deserts
the children of the widow, though He suffers them
to be tried in this world." And the kind neighbour
went on her way.

The early morning, long ere day dawned, found
Herman ready dressed for his journey. His mother
gave him a good meal of boiled milk thickened with
rye meal, and some goat's milk in a leathern bottle
to drink by the way.

The moon, which had not yet set, gilded the dis-
tant snow-capped mountains and glittered on the icy
pinnacles with a silvery radiance, while the deep
clefts and gorges lay in heavy shadow. The moon-
light is beautiful at all times and in all places, but
most so in an Alpine country like Switzerland, and
no doubt it is the grandeur of such scenery that binds
the hearts of all who live in mountainous countries
so closely to their native land.

" So the wild whirlwind and the tempest's roar
But bind him to his native locks the more."

After an hour or two the first rays of morning
began to lighten the mountain path, and cheerily Carl
Qraaf and his wife and children hastened along.

A merry party they were. The children were full

230

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

of expectation of rare shows and fine sights that
were to gladden their eyes at the fair.

Lotchen, Graaf's wife, trudged on with a pack of
homespun wares upon her back, while Carl, like a
good husband, carried the fat baby on his shoulder.
It was the heavier and to his fond eyes the more
precious load. Franz and Fridolin, two stout chubby
boys of seven and nine years eld, trotted behind or
cantered on before like littk Highland ponies, their
yellow curls smoothed from their ^'sual rough state
into tolerable order, while their red cheeks gave proof
of the care their older sisters, Carline and Pauline,
had taken to scour them clean in the brook that
flowed past their father's door.

Herman began bO whistle and imitate the notes
of the little birds as they carolled in the bushes,
and smiled gleefully to see how Carline and \i<jv
sister turned their heads to listen and look for the
feathered songsters. By and by he set Franz and
Fridolin scampering up the steep rocky sides of the
valley to get a sight of the wild kid whose plaintive
bleating he had mimicked ; or to hunt for che mar-
mot in its holes and burrows among the rocks, while
he mocked its shrill whistling note of anger or
surprise.

Sometimes he feigned the wild scream of the eagle

THE SWISS HERD BOY.

2S1

s tlmt

>ack of
like a
oulder.
J more
hubby
lind or
I, their
1 state
\ proof
auline,
<i that

notes
3ushes,
id her
or the
iz and
of the
lintive
} mar-
while
jer or

eagle

or the kestrel hawk as if it came from the pines on
the rocky pinnacles above their heads, then with a
merry shout and laugh ran on to surprise and delude
them by some new trick or innocent deception. Even
the practised ear of Carl Graaf was often deceived by
Herman's mimicry, and the old goatherd would cry
out, " Bah ! The boy's a witch to cheat us so ! "

The early dew was scarcely dry from the azure
bells of the blue gentian and the rock saxifrage that
carpeted the ground, when our little party made a
halt under a group of arbutus bushes to eat a hasty
meal before descending the steep road to the more
level country. Lotchen selected a thymy knoll on
the bank of a bright sparkling rill of cool water.
Here she collected the stragglers and made them sit
down, while she divided the rye cakes, cheese and
apples among them. Herman was not forgotten,
but received a liberal share, and the prudent mother
greatly commended him for dividing his milk with
the boys, and was glad to accept a little of it for the
chubby baby.

As soon as the frugal meal was ended, the children
gathered up the fragments that remained and stowed
them away carefully in Carl's wallet, " for," said the
mother, " they may be wanted yet as we go home ;
cakes are nice, but they do not satisfy hungry
children."

232

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

As they descended the hill a pretty scene presented
itself to the view of the travellers. The balconies
and steep overhanging roofs of the cottages scattered
in tlie valley seemed to give an air of coolness to the
shaded space below. Meadows gay with flowers lay
stretched out in the distance ; herds of cattle were
feeding or cooling themselves in the pools that
glistened in the sun, reflecting the quivering branches
of the overhanging trees. It was all a great contrast
to the wild rocky hills and shaded valleys they had
left behind them, and they enjoyed the change.

Groups of men, women and children, all in holiday
attire, some in carts and carriages and some on foot,
soon added a greater interest to the scene.

There were caravans of wild beasts, with pictures
of huge tigers and lions on the outside, painted larger
than life and as red or yellow as the painter could
make them, at the sight of which dreadful-looking
animals Franz set up a loud cry, declaring that the
"beasts with the big claws and white teeth would
eat him," and it was only with some difficulty that his
sisters could drag him past the slow-moving caravans.

As they entered the suburbs of the town the throng
of people grew greater, and poor Lotchen's troubles
began. The baby, who had slept soundly most of the
way, now began to waken and cry, frightened by the

THE SWISS HERD- BOY.

233

V]
4

•\

din of pealing bells and rattlinj^ wheels ami the
shouting of boys and scolding of women, the blare of
trumpets and all the confusion of sounds to which
the poor child's ears were not accustomed. Then it
was such a trouble to keep Franz and Fridolin from
being run over by the carriages or lost in the crowd.

Some foreign soldiers frightened Carline by star-
ing rather rudely at her, and one of them pinched
little Christine's cheek and made her cry again.

While all this was going on, Herman, wj^osc eyes
were wandering everywhere in search of the man
who had stolen his marmot, was completely separated
from Carl and his family. Pushed hither and thither,
one man called out to him to move along, another to
stand aside. A woman declared he had trodden on
her foot, and another that he had shoved her little
daughter.

Presently a party of gaily-dressed people came by
— ladies carrying tambourines and dressed in gauze
and tinsel, with flowers and feathers on their heads,
mounted on tall horses decked out with scarlet and
gold cloths. Meh who stood on the backs of their
horses turned somersaults in the air, lighting again
on their horses. There were camels with monkeys
riding them, and monkeys dressed in red jackets
mounted on French poodles.

234

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

TheHC were no sooner paNHcd than the '»rowd gave
way for a big elephant who had a wooden tower with
red silk hangings on his back, and was led by a boy
dressed in crimson with a white turban on his head.
Then came a ^and of Tyrolese minstrels in peaked
hats, red jackets and blue velvet breeches, tied at the
knees with rosettes of gay ribbon. They were singing
their mountain melodies to the sound of the flute and
ilageolet. All the people stopped to hear them, and
many gave them money. Herman had become a
little bewildered by all the novel sights, and began to
feel uneasy at being separated from his friends, when
suddenly his ear caught the tones of a voice he felt
sure he had heard befoi e.

Yes, it must be the wery same. He pressed eagerly
forward to the stone steps at the foot of the market-
place to listen, as a soft voice cried out : " Walk up,
walk up, my little dears, my pretty little girls and
boys, and you shall see a fine sight. Only one kreut-
zer, only one, to see my Alpine mouse. He is the best
dancer at the fair. He will dance a saraband or a
waltz, or turn a pirouette to the sound of my flute.
Ah ! he is a rare fellow. He will sit up on his hind
legs and balance a stick on his nose. Oh, he is a
wonderful little beast ! Only one kreutzer to see my
pretty marmot dance ! "

c
1
t
a

THE SWISS HERD- BOY.

235

" It is my own marmot, my own <lear Mouzclle!"
cried out Herman. Dashing aside the group of star-
ing children and at one bound darting up the steps of
the market-house, he snatched the trembling little
animal from the ground and hid it in his bosom, then
stood panting and breathless, his eyes filled with tears
and his cheeks flushed with excitement.

" Boy, let that Alpine mouse alone !" screamed the
man.

" It is mine, my own marmot, and you stole it from
me yesterday," sobbed Herman, still undauntedly
sheltering the recovered treasure.

" A likely story that !" cried one of the bystanders.

" Here, here, seize the youngsi/cr and take him be-
fore the Mayor !" called out another.

" Yes, yes, to the Mayor with him !"

" Away with him to jail !" shouted another.

" No, no, to the Mayor. He is a wise man, our
Mayor, and will soon set the matter right," cried a
voice from the outskirts of the crowd.

Driven forward by the rush of the crowd that had
collected round the showman, the terrified boy was
carried into the justice hall. So sudden had been the
whole afiair that he had no time to think of what he
should say in his defence, but he felt strong in having

236

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

;:tt:

a righteouH cause. " I will tell the truth," said the
child to himself, " and the Mayor will believe me."

The loud threatening^ tones of the angry showman
seemed to have no weight with the Mayor, a man of
a mild but firm countenance. He listened attentively
to all that the man had to say, and then bidding him
be silent turned to Herman, who stood with his head
bent over the marmot, and said :

" My little man, you are accused of interrupting
the show and creating a disturbance among peaceable
citizens of this good town, and rudely and violently
taking away the complainant's property. What hast
thou to say in thy defence ? "

Herman raised his tear-stained face, and looking up
said quietly, " I will tell you the truth, and nothing
but the truth, Mr. Mayor, for my mother has taught
me from the good Book to be true and honest in word
and deed."

" Only listen to the canting young hypocrite," cried
one of the showman's friends.

" Silence, and let the child be heard in his defence."

Herman then, gaining courage, related in his own
simple words the way in which he had been robbed
by the showman while he was getting some refresh-
ment for him.

Some of the people cried out, "Shame! shame!"

THE SWtSS HERD BOY

23;

but others said, " No, no, he is lying : see how ho
blushea"

Herman was blushing. Grief and distress at finding
himself accused as a thief and liar had brought a
flush to the cheek of the agitated boy.

" Appearances are against him," said a man who had
listened with great attention to all that had passed,
" but a child's blush is no proof of guilt."

The showman boldly offered to take his oath for
the truth of his statement, but the good Mayor would
not even ask the child to swear to what he had said.
He saw the purity of truth in his face.

After thinking for a minute or two, he said to
Herman, " Put down the marmot on the ground."
Herman obeyed at once.

" Now, Mr. Showman, let me see the performance
of your marmot's tricks."

'•The little beast is tired and frightened by the
treatment he has received," said the man, sullenly,
" and I am losing time here."

" If the little creature is accustomed to obey you, he
will do so whether he is tired or not, so no excuse,
but begin at once," said the Mayor, sternly.

The man, forced to obey, drew out Herman's flute,
but the marmot paid no heed to the tunes he played.
The angry showman shook him, then set him up on

238

COT AND CRADLE STORIES.

n\i

his hind legs, but he only sank down again and re-
mained sulkily crouched on the ground, his ears set
back stubbornly.

" It is plain that the marmot will not own you for
his master. Now, my boy, try what you can do with
this sulky rebel," said the Mayor.

" May I have my own flute ?" asked the now hope-
ful child. When ordered to give it up the man threw
the flute on the ground jit his feet.

Taking it up the child placed it to his lips and be-
gan to play the old familiar air, the "Raus des vdcheSy*
in his sweetest strains. In an instant, as if new life
had been put into the marmot, it sprang up from its
sluggish posture, and Hftrynan, inspired by his own
music, began to dance, and while the curious crowd
stood gazing with admiring eyes, the Alpine mouse
went through all the sprightly movements of one of
the native dances.

" Bravo ! bravissimo !" cried out an Italian pedlar,
"Now for the stick solo and the waifcz."

The marmot delighted the spectators by dancing
round and round with the stick balanced on his fore
paws ; he then went through all his tricks, and finally
ran up Herman's leg and buried his soft grey head in
his vest. •

Just at this moment a bustling step was heard in

¥■'

THE SWISS HERD-BOY.

239

and re-
3ars set

yrou for
lo with

IT hope-
threw

md be-

ew life

ram its

is own

crowd

mouse

one of

pedlar.

ancing
is fore
finally
lead in

the entry, and a loud hearty voice cried out, " Here
he is ! I have found the truant at last. But hey,
what is this ? How did he get here ? " and elbowing
his way through the crowd Carl Graaf reached the
boy's side. Making a respectful salutation to the
Mayor, he said : " Your Worship's Reverence, may it
please you to listen to me in behalf of this child ?"

The Mayor made a motion of assent, and the honest
goatherd in a few brief words told the story of the
marmot and its master, adding, " Your Worship, this
boy is a truth-telling, honest lad, and comes of God-
fearing parents. I and Lotchen, my wife, who have
known him from his birth, will go bail for him if
sucii be the pleasure of your Reverence."

After imposing a heavy fine and giving the dis-
honest showman a severe reprimand, the Mayor let
him go. He left the court-house amid the jeers and
hisses of the crowd, while several pieces of silver were
dropped into the hands of the now radiantly happy
Herman.

Thus truth and honesty were rewarded, and Her-
man was able to bring home the dreamed-of good
things to his mother and Berta.

sard in

Mkf«

OANADIAN GOPYMQHT 8EIIU Of

PANSY'S STORIES.

y (

'Bttttr IwolBi fi»r jmag paopl* oaaaot b* tcian±''—Tkt Pntbyterian.

Priee, TO Cento eacli.

WHAT THET OOULDN'T. Illustrated.
ONLY TEN 0ENT8. Freely illustrated.
WANTED. Freely illustrated.

"Fuisy's writings Iut* mi indiaorilMUe ehuiu shout them, Mid fMotnftt* oa M
BO othar fletion hM powor to do,"— Sword and TroweL

STEPHEN MITOHELL'S JOUBNET. Frontispiece.

" Hu »11 the gTMieful •implicitjr. earnest pmnxMe and pnctioal fodUneH which
Mr* ao olwrMStaristio of Mn. Aloen'* writings. "—7a« Chri$tian.

"—The

' One of the t>Mt ihe hw written."

Matiehuttr Examiner.

TWENTY MINUTES LATE. Frontispiece.

"A delightfnl story. Wlthont Meming inatniotiTe, the etonr teMhes leeaona
not only in obedience, Idndnees Mid Mlf-deniftl, but in oommon-eenae worldly
wiadom/'— 2%« Ltfrmry World.

JOHN BEMINOTON, BI/iETYB. A Sequel to *<Aunt Hannah,
and Martha and Joh!2." Frontispiece.

" Thii is, witbcuc exception, the best tempennoe story we hsTe read for a long
time. 1%« teaching is pronounced, thoroughly up to date, clear and outapolien on
' ptaae of the qnestton."— 2%< iVuttm Ttmperanee HmUd.

HER A8800IATE MBMBBBB. Frontispiece.

'As a story writer we consider

moions and graoelass, each and
Trot

rrowol.

Ider Panw to be a specialist Tor gentto and sbnple.
all, here is a bright and beautiful book."— Anerd mia

MISS DEE DUNMOBE BBYANT. FrontUpiece.

"We ham no hesitation in saying that with each new Tolume Pftnsy ezoels her-
self. We trust that this book may pro?* a delight to many oliildren.— IfilAodM
J l sasr d er.

" A ple a sa n t and interesting story, ol*T*tly told.— IFfltriiigtoa Chiardtan.

AUNT HANNAK AND MABTHA AND JOHN. By Panst
and Mrs. C. M. Livinostonx.

"Both cheap and good; . . . written with slcill and ability and in tlie interest
of trath and righteousness.— Primitive MtthodM MagoBlnt.

" A flrstHrate story— amusing, interesting, pathetic.— CAri«tiait MiteeUanv.

JUDGE BUBNHAM'S DAUOHTEBS. A Sequel to "Ruth
Erakine's Grosses."

"We have had many charming stories from Pansy, but we consider 'Judge
Bumham's Daughters ' to be decidedly her masterpiece."— ^cwcMttc CkronMd.

EIOHTY-SEVEN : A Ohautanana Storj'

"There is a brftoing tone about the tiook which seems to stir '>oe up t6
use of life's opportunities."— Lomion Quarttrljf Mn-iew.

William Briggs, Publisher, Toronto.

•■?

ES.

riiyUrian.

fMotoat* «■ M

ndlinaw which

Mushes leMona
i-«ense worldly

nt Hannah,

read for a long
1 outopoken on

itl* and liBiple.
k."— Avord mod

Msy flioels her-
ran.— Jr<tAodM .

By Pansy

dlnUMintarMt
to "Ruth

oniidcr 'Judga

900 ai> tb mak*

:)nto.

i'»