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Zbe IDictorian Heaberd.

SECOND BEADEE.

AVTHOBIZED BY THE ADVISORY BOARD
FOR MANITOBA.

; ; TORONTO: .

THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED.
THE W. J. GAGE COMPANY, LIMITED.

Pann

Entered acoordinf to Act of the Pwrliat^eiit of OaaiMla, in the yew one thoiMuid
eight hundred and ninety-eight, by Thb Oopp, Clark Company, LiMmo, and
Tm W. J. Gagi Oohpaht, Lunnoi at the Department of Agriculture.

CONTENTS.

The Sdeetions in Poetr// are printed in Italicn,

PAaa

Mweh 7

Tl»« Pied Piper (lUuatratedJ 8

Summer and Winter 19

The Cats that Went to Law 14

BeatUiful Swings IS

The Lark and the Fanner 10

I%e Lark*$ Song 18

Hark/ Hark! the Lark 18

The Brook 19

The Woodman's, Axe 91

Diteontent 22

The Story of Echo 24

A Summer Dap 26

A Song for Little Ma if 27

The Anxious Leaf 28

One, Two, Three 29

The Three Bears SL

TheMi»aionof a Bote ( Illustrated) 38

The King and the Gooso Boy . 41

Summer Bain 46

Lord Kelson's Boyhood (lUustratedJ * 40

Evening SO

The Ugly Duckling 51

The Biver 66

The Stone in the Road 67

I%e Wise Fairy 68

Letters of Recommendation . . . . ' 70

Fro»i Pippa Passes 72

LitUe Things 72

How a Butterfly Came , 78

2*« Beal Thief 74

The Town-Muaicians of Bremen 75

Fairy Folk 80

6 Contents.

LitUe Boy Blue gl

Story of a Drop of Water |8

The Land of Nod 88

The Land of Nod 90

Little Red Riding-Hood 91

Hide and Seek 97

The Daisy and the Lark 98

The Froet 102

The Feast of Cherries (^/«M«<mterf; \0^

The Miller of the Dee 109

The Sower and the Seed 110

The Quest Ill

The Good Samaritan .112

A Boy'e Song 113

All Thingt Bright and Beautiful 114

How I Turned the Grindstone . . . ' 115

How the Leaves Came Loicn 117

The Hero of Haarlem 118 \

The Maple . 120 \

The Bear and the Bees 123

The Adventure in the Woods 125

The Voiee of the Grass 130

The Prince's Lesson 132

Hie Brown Thrush 133

How a Dog Saved a Crew 134

Bobert of Lincoln 136

The Beatitudes 188

The King and the Page 139

The Children's Hour 140

Five Peas in a Pod 142

The Sandpiper 146

The Stars in the Sky 148

The Brook and the Wave 152

The Dandelion 163

Damon and Pythias 156

LUtle Sorrow 167

Grace Darling 168

Hiawatha's Childhood 161

Arnold Winkelried ^'»' s, * . . 164

Under the Greenwood Tree 166

The Snow Man ("/Wtwirotcd; 166

Owr Almanae 176

The Story of Dick Whittington 178

■'\ -

»!•■

■

102

B ''

103

^^B

109

1 '

110

H ■,

111

^^m

112

H'-' "

113

^^B '

114

H- -

115

B '' '

117

^^B

118 \

120 \ .

123

^^B

125

130

B' ''"

132

B^ -

133

^^H

134

H' ' ' . ' ^ ''

136

188

^^H

139

B '

140

142

B' ' <-'

146

B ".

148

152

B '

168

B '

156

Wm ■

167

W -

168

■^ ''

161

164 1

166

176

^^B

178

SECOND READER

liAARCH.

In the snowing and the blowing,

In the cruel sleet,
Little flowers begin their growing

Far beneath our feet.

Softly taps the Spring, and cheerly, —

" Darlings, are you here ? "
Till they answer, " We are nearly, .

Nearly ready, dear."

" Where is Winter, with his snowing ?

Tell us. Spring," they say.
Then she answers, " He is going.

Going on his way."

" Poor old Winter does not love you ;
. But his time is past ; ;.? w; , ; | r
Soon my birds shall sing above you ; —
Set you free at last" ? )

Second Reader.
THE PIED PIPER.

■^

Would you hear a story of the long, long ago ?
It may not be altogether true, but it has been
told so often, that we seem to think it true.

The little village of Newtown was sadly
troubled with rats. There wasn't a bam or a
stable, a store-room or cupboard but they ate
their way into it. The bread and the cheese,
the fruit and the vegetables, all disappeared.
And in addition to all this, the rats kept up
such a scratching and squeaking, that the poor
people couldn't get half their sleep.

They tried cats, but the rats chased them
away. They tried poison, but it nearly brought
on a plague when so many rats died. They tried
traps, but it was of no use. Every day seemed
to bring a fresh army of the little pests.

The mayor and the council were at their wits'
end. They had almost decided that the best
thing to be done was for everybody to leave the
village. Just then there came along the most
peculiar looking fellow you ever saw. He was
tall and thin, and had keen piercing eyes. But
the funny thing about him was his coat. It was
made of patches of cloth of all colors. His hat
was no better. Even his trousers and his stock-
ings were of the same kind. '

PiBD PiPKB.

The Pied Piper.

*'I am the Pied Piper/* he said, addressing
the mayor. "And what will you pay me, if I
rid you o£ every rat in Newtown V*

Now the mayor aild the oooncil were only too
eager to get rid of the rats, but they did not like
to give out their money. So they higgled and
haggled until the Piper grew impatient and said,
** Give me fifty pounds, or that is the end of it."
So they promised the money as soon as not a rat
was to be found in Newtown. ' '

Then the Piper walked out into the street and
placed a pipe to his lips. He played such a
shrill keen tune that it was heard in every house
in the village. It sounded as if thousands of
rats were squeaking at once.

Then there was a strange sight. Out of every
hole the rats came running and tmnbling. Old
rats and young rats, big lean ones and little fat
ones, crowded after the Piper and followed him
down the street. Every few yards he would
stand and give an extra flourish on his pipe, so
that the little rats would have time to- catch up
to the older ones.

Up Silver Street he went and down Gold
Street, and then he took a boat and sailed out
into the deep sea. Still he kept playing his pipe
and all the rats followed him, plashing and pad-
dling and wagging their tails with delight.

SisooND Reader.

■Ill
I

• On and on he sailed, and the rats followed
him. One by one they sank in the waves, until
every rat of them was drowned in the deep sea.

Then the Piper rowed back to shore, but not
a rat followed him. Nor could a single rat be
found in all the village. »^,a.*, «»..» c

Then the mayor and council began to shake
their heads, and to " hum ! " and " haw ! " For
where was the fifty pounds to come from ?
And wasn't fifty pounds too much for the work
of a few minutes ? Think of it ! Fifty pounds
for just sitting in a boat and playing a tune on
the pipe I It was ridiculous. So they said to
the Piper, "Fifty pounds is too much — ^far too
much. Will you not take twenty ? Surely that
is good pay for your work." '

But the Piper replied, " Fifty pounds is what
you promised, and you had better pay it quickly,
for I can play other tunes as well." Then the
mayor grew angry, and ordered him out of the
village. ' -' * "

t..." Very well," said the Piper, smiling. "Just
as you wish." So he placed his pipe to his lips
again, and began playing as before. But this
time it was not shrill keen notes; it was the
sound of play and laughter. - j - nv :

Then out of their homes, and the schoolrooms,
and from the playgrounds, ran all the children.

• V

Summer and Winter.

laughing and shouting, and they followed the
Pied Piper down the long street. On they went,
dancing and skipping, and joining hands. Down
Gold Street and down Silver Street they went,
and on into the cool, green forest, with its great
oak trees, and wide-spreading beeches. On went
the Piper with his many-cdlored coat, and the
children followed, until their voices grew faint,
, and died away in the distance.

All the while the old folks watched and waited.
But the Piper never came back, nor were the
voices of the children ever heard again in the
streets.

People say that both Piper and children went
to another land, where there were no rats and no
greedy mayor, and that they danced and sang
all the dayj and never grew tired, and never
felt sad. ^■^ W^^-.Vr.i'^- --■-■•!■•■:■ -M. ■ ^ ■■:^i-^:> ■:>':■ 7

* , • - ? '^ '•',','.-•

■■V ■ \ . 'I -.:

SUMMER AND WINTER.

What are the bright eyes watching
Under the Southern sun ?

Oh, the roses fair in the balmy air,
And the vines that dimb and run.

Second Reader.

What are the bright eyes watching

Under the Northern sky ?
Feathery snow, while the chill winds blow,

And the clouds go drifting by.

What are the children doing

Alike in the cold and the heat ? W:>

They are making life gay on the darkest day,

With the sound of their little feet.

tiA

What are the children learning
Alike in the East and the West ?

That a Father's hand is o'er sea and land —
That of all things, Love is best. > -,>

!>•

*! • ijli X.i ■

THE CATS THAT WENT TO LAW.

;V'

■fn^

>i Did you ever hear the fable of the cats that
went to law? It seems they stole a piece of
cheese and began to dispute as to how it should
be divided. When they found they could not
agree, they decided to bring the matter before
the monkey, who should act as judge.

Now the monkey was wise and fair. He took
a pair of scales, and placed a part of the cheese
in each pan. ''

" Let me see I " he began. " This piece is too
large." So he bit off a good mouthful to make
the shares equal, .ir--- ^y-.:,:^:.,-:^ .j-'y^.,! *^

Beautiful Things.

" Ah I " he said, " now the other piece is too
large." Then he took another bite, and weighed
once more. Still the shares were not equal.

"Stop! stop!" said the cats, who now saw how
things were going. "Give each of us a piece and
we shall be satisfied." n /^

" Oh, no ! " said the monkey, " we must be
just. The law is always just." So he kept on
nibbling, till the cheese was nearly all gone.

Then the cats begged him to take no further
trouble. "Trouble I" said the monkey, "I am
glad you mentioned it, for that reminds me, I
must have some pay for my trouble." And
with that he crammed all that remained into
his mouth, and broke up the court.

BEAUTIFUL THINGS.

Beautiful faces are they that wear
The light of a pleasant spirit there ;
It matters little if dark or fair.

Beautiful hands are they that do
Deeds that are noble, good, and true ;
Busy with them the long day through.

Beautiful feet are they that go
Swiftly to lighten another's woe.
Through summer's heat or winter's snow.

Second Reader.

THE LARK AND THE FARMER

A FABLE.

..'■.v

't r. ■

A lark once made her nest in a field of hay.
It was an early summer, and she was afraid that
the mowers would come to cut the hay before
her yoimg ones were able to fly to a place of
safety. When she went away to look for food,
she told her little ones to remember everything
they heard the farmer say, and to tell her on her
return.

When she was gone, the young larks heard the
farmer say to his son, "I think this hay is ripe
enough. Go to-morrow morning and ask our
friends and neighbors to come and help us to
cut it down."

A rf *•■ V-

-:-^'X^i\'. *:^^*"^' \ ' ,A. '^:^''^\V

Soon afterwards the- mother-lark came back.
Her little ones chirped round her, and told her
what the farmer had said, and asked her to
remove them to a place of safety before the
mowers came. C - '

Their mother replied, "Fear not; for if the
farmer depends On his friends and neighbors, I
am sure the hay will not be cut to-morrow."

Next day she went out again to seek for food,
and left the same orders as before. Th^ farmer

, 4,^

The Lark and the Farmer.

came and waited, looking f^r his friends and
neighbors; but the sun rose high in the sky,
and still nothing was done, for no one came to
help him.

Then the farmer said to his son, "These
friends and neighbors of oiu's have not come
to help us. Go to your uncles and ccusins, and
ask them to come early to-morrow morning and
help us to mow our hay."

The son went away and did so, and the young
larks were in a great fright. They told this also
to their mother.

"If that is all," said she, "do not be fright-
ened, dears ; for uncles and cousins are not
always very ready to help one another. But be
sure to listen again to-morrow, and tell me what
you hear." ,,

Next day she flew away as usual for food.
The farmer came down to the field with his son,
but neither uncles nor cousins were there to
meet him. So he said, "Well, George, have
two good scythes ready to-morrow morning, and
we will cut down the hay ourselves !"

When the mother-lark was told this, she said,
" Now it is time for us to be gone ; for when a
man does his own work himself, he is not likely
to fail."

Second Reader.

So saying, she and her young ones flew away
to another field, and the hay was cut next day
by the farmer and his son. They had learned
what the lark knew already, that work is best
and most quickly done when people help them-
selves.

THE LARK'S SONG.

A lark flew up from its dewy nest

Beside a meadow daisy.
And, swelling its throat, sang loud and clear,

As if with joy 'twere crazy.
Wake up ! wake up ! " were the words it sang ;

" The world is growing lazy.

' In through yon window I peep and see

A maiden soundly sleeping.
Wake up, little girl ! don't wait for the sun
-^ To begin his tardy creeping ; V

Lest for unlearned lessons and tasks undone

At eve you may be weeping."

HARKl HARKl THE LARK.

Z>if^i' Hark! hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
tf ^, And Phoebus 'gins arise, ^

^ till >7-^' , ■ ■' '1 vj;-'-

■ His steeds to water at those sprmgs %

On chalic'd flowers that lies ; ; '^

I. '--I

The Brook.

away
:t day
earned
3 best
them-

ar, \^
ang;

And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes ;

With every thing that pretty bin
My lady sweet, arise ;
Arise, arise !

THE BROOK.

J':.

)':■."

; :■ t ',

I ';.:

,•■ /-

From a fountain,

In a mountain,
Drops of water ran.
Trickling through the grasses ;
So the brook began.

Slow it started;
Soon it darted.
Cool and clear and free,
Rippling over pebbles,
Hurrying to the sea.

Children straying j< -

Came a-playing
On its pretty banks ;
Glad, our little brooklet
Sparkled up its thank's.

Blossoms floating

Mimic boating,
Fishes darting past.
Swift and strong and happy,
Widening very fast.

;1--: i,5-

'' -•.».

i '>■

",r'f

Second Reader.

Bubbling, singing,
Rushing, ringing.
Flecked with shade and sun,
Soon our little brooklet
To the sea has run.

THE WOODMAN'S AXE.

Once upon a time an honest woodman lived
with his wife and children in a small house in
the woods. He was very poor, — so poor that
he had to work from early morning until late
in the evening in order to keep his family from
starving. They, too, worked with all their
might, but still they were very poor.

One day as the woodman was working on the
bank of a stream, his axe slipped from his h inds
and fell into the water. **Ah, me I" he c^ied;
" it was very hard to get my living with my axe,
but what shall I do now that it is gone ? " And
he hid his face in his hands, and groaned aloud.

Then he was aware of a bright light, and he
heard a sweet voice that said, "Look up, my
friend; why do you mourn so bitterly?"

" I have lost my axe," said the woodman ;
"my axe that I loved as a brother. Where
shall I find another?" •

The Woodman's Axe.

Now you must know that it was the water-
fairy who spoke to the woodman. No sooner
had he finished his speech than the tairy was
gone. Down she went to the bottom of the
river, but immediately returned, bearing in her
hand an axe of gold.

** Is this your axe ? " she asked. But the
woodman shook his head. " No, no I My axe
was not so fine as that. That would buy mine
a thousand times over; but it is not mine, it
is not mine."

Then the fairy sank beneath the water again.
In a moment she re-appeared, bearing a silver
axe. " Is this yours ? " she asked again. " No,
no I " said the woodman ; " that is much finer
than mine. Mine was made of iron."

Then the fairy went down once more, and
when she came back she carried in her arms the
woodman's axe. " That is it ! " he cried ; " That
is it!" "Yes," said the fairy, "this is the
honest axe with which you earn the bread to
feed your hungry children. Because you would
not lie, the silver axe and the gold one shall
both be yours." The woodman thanked the
fairy, and hurried home to show his treasures
to his family.

On the way he met a neighbor, a lazy man,
who had spent all that he owned. "Good day ! "

I I

Second ^EAiMft.

said the neighbor; "where did you get those
fine axes ? " Then the woodman told him.

Away hurried the lazy man to try his luck at
y- the river. Down went his axe into the water,
and loudly he cried for help. The water-fairy
came and asked him the cause of his weeping.
" I have lost my axe," he said ; '* I have lost my
good axe."

' The fairy sank beneath the water. Soon she
brought up an axe of gold. "Is this yoiu* axe ?"
she asked. " Yes," he cried, greedily, " that is
mine ; I know it so well."

" You dishonest rogue ! " said the fairy ; " this
is my axe, not yours. I shall take it home with
me, but you must dive for your own if you wish
to get it."

DISCONTENT.

Down in a field, one day in June,
The flowers all bloomed together,

Save one, who tried to hide herself,
And drooped that pleasant weather.

A robin who had flown too high,

And felt a little lazy,
Was resting near this buttercup

Who wished she were a daisy.

/ - '. ■

Discontent.

For daisies grow so trig and tall,

She always had a passion
For wearing frills around her neck,

In just the daisies* fashion.

And buttercups must always be '

The same old tiresome color ;

While daisies dress in gold and white,
Although their gold is duller.

" Dear Robin," said the sad young flower,
" Perhaps you'd not mind trying

To find a nice, white frill for me.
Some day when you are flying ? "

" You silly thing," the robin said,
" I think you must be crazy :

I'd rather be my honest self,
Than any made-up daisy.

" You're nicer in your own bright gown.

The little children love you ;
Be the best buttercup you can,

And think no flower above you.

" Though swallows leave me out of sight.
We'd better keep our places ;

Perhaps the world would all go wrong
With one too many daisies.

" Look bravely up into the sky,
And be content with knowing

That God wished for a buttercup
Just here, where you are growing."

> 1

{"Second Header.
THE STORY OF ECHO.

Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, the
people who lived on this beautiful earth told
strange stories to one another, an<l believed
many curious things.

Among other things, they believerl that a
beautiful race of beings called nymphs lived
everywhere in the woods and streams, and
shared the life of the trees and brooks. The
fairest of these was Echo, and her voice was
the sweetest of all. '

One day Echo displeased Queen Juno. Now,
you must know, Juno had wonderful power.
She could change a nymph to a stone, or a
fountain, or a breeze. And she said to Echo, —

" You may keep your sweet voice, if you like,
but you shall have nothing else. And you shall
never speak first. You can only answer when
others speak to you."

Poor Echo ! She became thin and pale, and
thinner and paler, until at last Queen Juno's
word became true. Only her voice was left.

She wandered from place to place in the
woods, unseen, and heard only when others
spoke.

On a quiet evening you may hear her, if you
walk near some high rock where she loves to
hide. Call to her, and she will answer.

,f
/

The Storv of Echo.

" Where are yon ? " you may ask.

" Where are yon ? " she will reply.

'Are you Echo?"

"Echo!" she answers.

" C 'Ome to me ! " you cry.

" (^)me to me I " she replies.

" I like you," you say to her.

" I like you," Echo repeats.

Now a very curious thinj]; is true. Echo
always answers in the same tone in which you
speak to her. If you sing, she sings back to
you. If you shout, she shouts to you again. If
you cry, she cries, too. If you are cross and
ill-natured, she will be cross and ill-natured, too.

Two boys once went into the woods to find
Echo. They could not hear her voice, although
they called and called. At last one of them
cried impatiently, " You are a mean old cheat ! "

Quick as thought came back the cross reply,
"You are a mean old cheat!" The other boy
cried quickly, "He didn't mean that." The
same tone came back in Echo's reply, ** He
didn't mean that."

When the boys told their mother what had
happened, she smiled, and said, " That happens,
the \»rorld over. Gentle words will bring forth
gentle words, and harsh tones will be echoed by
harsh tones."

1 fii

1^1

ill

' Sec!ONd Keader.

«»

A SUMMER DAY.

This is the way the morning dawns :
Bosy tints on flowers and trees,
Winds that wake the birds and bees,
Dew-drops on the flowers and lawns—
This is the way the morning dawns.

This is the way the sun comes up :
Gold on brooks and grass and leaves.
Mists that melt above the sheaves.
Vine and rose and buttercup —
This is the way the sun comes up.

This is the way the rain comes down :

Tinkle, tinkle, drop by drop.

Over roof and chimney-top ;
Boughs that bend, and clouds that f rown-
This is the way the r-^in comes^down.

This is the way the river flows :
Here a whirl, and there a dance,
Slowly now, then, like a lance.
Swiftly to the sea it goes —
This is the way the river flows.

This is the way the daylight dies :
Cows are lowing in the lane.
Fire-flies wink o'er hill and plain.
Yellow, red, and purple skies —
This is the way the daylight dies.

A Song for Little May.

( ■„■ ' .'i I.

A SONG FOR LITTLE MAY.

^ n

Have you heard the waters singing,

Little May,
Where the willows green are bending

O'er their way ?
Do you know how low and sweet,
O'er the pebbles at their feet.
Are the words the waves repeat.

Night and day ?

^'1
-1

Have you heard the robins singing.

Little one,
When the rosy dawn is breaking —

When 'tis done ?
Have you heard the wooing breeze
In the blossomed orchard trees.
And the drowsy hum of bees

In the sun ?

All the earth is full of music.

Little May —
Bird, and bee, and water singing

On its way.
Let their silver voices fall
On thy heart with happy call,
" Praise the Lord, who loveth all,

Night and day,"

Little May.

Second Reader.

THE ANXIOUS LEAF.

<y.

Once upon a time a little leaf was heard to
sigh and cry, as leaves do when a gentle wind
is about.

''What is the matter, little leaf?" said the
twig.

'* The wind has just told me that some day it
will pull me off and throw me down to die on
the ground," sobbed the little leaf

The twig told it to the branch on which it
grew, and the branch told it to the tree ; and
when the tree heard it, it rustled all over, and
sent back word to the leaf : " Do not be afraid ;
hold on tightly, and you shall not go until you
wish it."

So the leaf stopped sighing, and went on
rustling and singing. Every time the tree shook
itself, and stirred up all its leaves, the branches
shook themselves, and the little twig shook
itself; and the little leaf danced up and down
merrily, as if nothing could ever pull it off.

And so it grew all summer long, and till
October. And, when the bright rays of autumn
came, the little leaf saw all the leaves around
becoming \ery beautiful. Some were yellow
and some scarlet, and some striped with both
colors. Then it asked the tree what it meant.

i ;

One/Two, Three.

And the tree said : " All the leaves are getting
ready to fly away ; and they have put on these
beautiful colors because of joy." Then the little
leaf began to wish to fly away too, and grew
very beautiful in thinking of it.

When it was very gay in all its colors it saw
that the branches had no color in them, and so it
said : " Oh, branches ! why are you lead-color
and we so red and golden ? " The branches
answered softly : " We must keep on our work-
clothes, for our life is not done ; but your clothes
are for a holiday, because your tasks are over."

-Just then a little puff* of wind came, and the
leaf let go without thinking of it; and the
wind took it up and turned it over and over,
and whirled it like a spark of fire in the air;
and then it dropped gently down under the
edge of the fence among hundreds of leaves,
and fell into a dream, and never waked up to
tell what it dreamed about.

!'i

ONE, TWO, THREE.

It was an old, old, old, old lady,

And a boy who was half -past three ;

And the way that they played together
Was beautiful to see.

1 1 '

Second Reader.

She couldn't go running and jumping,

And the boy, no more could he.
For he was a thin little fellow.

With a thin little twisted knee.

They sat in the yellow sunlight, • ^

Out under the maple tree ;
And the game that they played, I'll tell you,

Just as it was told to me.

It was Hide-and-Go-Seek they were playing,
Though you'd never have known it to be,

With an old, old, old, old lady
And a boy with a twisted knee.

The boy would bend his face down -i^.

On his one little sound right knee.
And he'd guess where she was hiding '

In guesses One, Two, Three.

" You are in the china closet ! "

He would cry, and laugh with glee.

It wasn't the china closet ;

But he still had Two and Three.

" You are up in Papa's big bedroom
In the chest with the queer old key ! "
. i And she said " You are warm and warmer,

But you're not quite right," said she.

1 1 1 "It can't be the little cupboard v
i{ Where Mamma's things used to be,
I So it must be the clothes-press, Gran'ma,"
b' And he found her with his Three.

i'i ■■- r, , ji ' ■ _ ^

I y ;■

The Three Bears. 8|

Then she covered her face with her fingers,
That were wrinkled and white and wee,

And she guessed where the boy was hiding
With a One, and a Two and Three.

And they never had stirred from their places

Bight under the maple tree —
This old, old, old, old lady

And the boy with the lame little knee,
This dear, dear, dear old lady

And the boy who was half -past three.

Ill

THE THREE BEARS.

A very long time ago, there was a bold, rude
little girl, who lived in a far off country. The
village people called her Silverlocks, because her
curly hair was so light and shiny. She was a
sad romp, and so full of her pranks, that her
parents could never keep her quiet at home.

One day when she had been told not to go
out, she trotted off into a wood, to string neck-
laces of blossoms, to chase the bees, and to pull
wild roses ; and she ran about from place to
place, until at last she came to a lonely spot,
where she saw a pretty-looking small house.
Finding the door a little way open, and the
parlor window also, she peeped in, but could see

'•7.

Second Reader.

no one ; and slyly she laughed to think what fine
fun she would have before the good folks came
back. So she made up her mind to go boldly
into the house and look about her.

Now it ahanced that a family of three bears
was living in this house. The first was the great
papa, called Eough Bruin, from his thick, shaggy
coat ; the second was a smaller bear, called Mrs.
Bruin, and sometimes Mammy Muff, from her
soft fur; the third was a little funny brown
bear, their own dear pet, called Tiny. The
house was empty when little Silverlocks found
it out, because the bears had all gone out for
a morning walk. Before going from home, the
great bear had told Mrs. Bruin to rub down
Tiny's face, and make him tidy, while he was
busy in brushing his own hair, so that all three
might have a pleasant walk in the woods, while
the rich rabbit-soup, which they were to have
for dinner, cooled upon the table in the parlor.
When they were all ready they went out for
their walk, and they left both the door and the
window a little open.

In the bears' house there was only a parlor
and a bedroom, and when that saucy p:-;ss,
Silverlocks, threw open the door and went in,
she found there was a pleasant smell, as if some-
thing nice had just been cooked, and on looking

The Three Bears.

in the parlor, she saw three jars of steaming
soup standing on the table — dinner having been
got ready for the three bears by Mrs. Bruin.
There was a big black jar quite full of soup for
Rough Bruin, a smaller white jar of soup for
Mammy Muff, and a little blue jar for Tiny, and
with every jar there was a deep wooden spoon.
The little girl was now as himgry as she was full
of mischief, and felt quite glad when she saw the
soup-jars on the table. It did not take her long
to make up her mind how to act — taste the nice-
smelling soup she would, happen what might. It
would, she thought, be such good fun; she would
then run home again, and have a fine tale to tell
old Mike the groom — one that would make him
laugh till Christmas ; for that silly fellow, too,
liked mischief, and taught Silverlocks all sorts
of foolish tricks, and laughed at all her naughty
ways, which was surely not the best plan to
correct her faults, and make a good child of her.

After looking outside to see that no one was
coming, she began first to taste the soup in
Rough Bruin's great jar, but it was so very hot
with pepper that it burned her mouth and
throat. Then she tried Mammy Muff's jar, but
the soup was too salt — there was no bread in it
either, and she did not like it at all. Then she
tried Tiny's soup, and she foimd it was just to

iP.!

f .

Second Reader.

her taste, and had nice bits of white bread in it.
So she thought she would have it and run all
risks. Now, before the little willful child sat
down to eat Master Tiny's soup, she looked
for a seat, and saw there were three chairs in
the room. One, a very large oak chair, was
the great bear's seat; another of a smaller
size, with a velvet cushion, was Mrs. Bruin's
chair; and a little chair with a rush bottom
belonged to the little bear Tiny. These chairs
Silverlocks tried all in turn. She could not sit
in the very large chair, it was so hard ; she did
not like the smaller chair, it was too soft; but
the little chair with the rush bottom, she found
to be very nice, indeed. It was just the thing.
So she sat down in it with the jar upon her
knees, and began to enjoy herself. She dipped
and dipped again, eating away till she had eaten
up all the soup in the little blue jar. She did
not leave one bit or drop of either bread, meat,
or soup for the poor little bear, who at that very
minute was begging the old folks to go home to
their dinner — for indeed all three were hungry
enough after their walk.

Just as Silverlocks had taken the last spoonful
of soup and had got up on the chair, to put the
jar back upon the table, the bottom of the chair
fell out, and she tumbled on the floor. But she

. J

The Three Bears.

was not hurt, and the little mad-cap jumped
up and danced round the broken chair, think-
ing it all fine fun. She then began to wonder
where the stairs could lead to, so up she went
into the bedroom, where the bears used to sleep,
and there she saw three beds side by side. Now
one of these was a large bed for the big bear ;
there was also a smaller bed for Mrs. Bruin, and
a nice little bed for Master Tiny. Being sleepy,
she thought she would lie down and have a bit
of a nap. So, afte* taking off her shoes, she first
jumped on to the largest bed, but it was made so
high at the top that she could not lie on it ; she
then tried the next bed, but that was too high at
the foot; but she found the little bear's bed to
be just right, so she got snugly into it. She let
her cheek rest gently on the soft pillow, and
watched the vine nodding in at a broken win-
dow pane, and the blue-fly buzzing about in the
fold of the curtain, till she fell fast asleep, and
dreamed about the same thing over and over
again, often laughing in her sleep too, because
the dream was all about her breaking the little
chair.

While she was dreaming away, the bears came
home very tired and hungry, and went to look
after their soup. The big bear cried out in a
loud, angry voice :

< '

Second Reader.

1 I

1 'IlilH

"WHO HAS MEDDLED WITH MY
SOUP?"

Mammy Muff next said in a loud voice too,
but not so gruffly as Rough Bruin :

" Who has meddled with my soup ? "

But when the little bear saw his jar lying
empty on the table, he bit his paws for grief, and
asked over and over again, with his shrill little
voice :

** Who has meddled with my soup f "

Soon after the big bear, with a voice of thun-
der, said :

"WHO HAS BEEN IN MY CHAIK,
AND PUT IT OUT OF ITS PLACE?"

And Mrs. Bruin grumbled out :

"Who has been sitting in my chair, and

PUT IT OUT OF its PLACE?"

But poor Tiny was more angry than either of
them, and sadly sobbed as he cried :

"TF/i/O has heen sitting in m,y little chair, and
broken it ? "

They now looked about below-stairs, feeling
sure there was some one in the house, and then
up-stairs they all went, snuffing and grunting in
a very bad humor.

Said the great bear in a fmy :

The Three Bears.

" SOME ONE HAS BEEN ON MY BED
AND EUMPLED ITl"
Then said Mammy Muff :

" Some one has been on my bed and
rumpled it 1 "

Tiny next moimted a stool, and jumped on to
the foot of his own small bed. In a moment he
squeaked out :

" Some one has been on my bed — and here she
IS ; oh, here she is ! ** And he opened his mouth,
and looked as fierce and as wicked as could be
at Silverlocks.

The little girl had not been roused from her
sleep by the loud voices of Mr. and Mrs. Bruin,
but the shrill, piercing tones of Tiny's voice
waked her right up, and she was startled enough
to find herself nose to nose with the angry little
bear, and she was still more afraid, when she
also saw two great bears in the room. Now the
great bear had, very well for her, opened the
window. So she quickly slid off the bed, and
flew across the room, took one jump at the
opened sash, and dropped upon the turf below.
She rolled over and over on coming to the
ground, but up again she soon got, for, on
looking at the open window, she saw the three
bears staring wildly at her, and making a great
noise. When the little busy-body safely reached

^^1

Second Header.

home, she got a severe scolding for her pains.
She never forgot the fright which the sight of
the three bears had given her, and so she took
good care, ever after, to keep away from places
where she had no right to go, and also to avoid
meddling with things that did not belong to her.

THE MISSION OF A ROSE.

Only a rosebud kissed by the dew,
Out in a garden fair it grew,
Loved by the sunshine, wooed by the wind,
Yet to be out in the v/orld it pined.
Roses around it had gone away.
Here all alone it was doomed to stay ;
Ah ! said the rosebud, could I go too.
Some loving work in the world to do.

One summer morn came a maiden there

Seeking a flower, a flower to wear ;

Spied out the bud, amid green leaves curled,

Gathered and bore it out in the world.

There in her simple dress it lay.

Hearing her heart beat all the day,

" Ah ! " said the rosebud, " Now let me break

Into a rose, for her sweet sake."

[•eak

A Rose.

The King and the Goose Boy.

But still a bud it was given away,

A sick child saw it from where she lay,

It brought to the pale sad face a smile,

Pain was forgotten just for a while.

" Now," said the rosebud, " Let me bloom,"

And its fragrance floated across the room ;

The bud was a rose at dawn of day,

But the soul of the child had passed away.

.• I

THE KING AND THE GOOSE BOY.

It was a bright sunny afternoon when King
Jeseph of Bavaria left his palace and wandered
into the park alone. When he reached a quiet
spot he sat down, and taking a book from his
pocket began to read.

He read until the sound of the wind in the
trees made him feel drowsy. Then he placed
the book on the seat beside him, and was soon
fast asleep.

When he awoke, he continued his walk
through the park, and passed into a meadow
which bordered on a pretty little lake.

Suddenly he thought of his book. He did not
wish to walk back for it himself, so he .looked
about for a messenger. No one was in sight but
a boy of twelve years, who was keeping a flock
of geese.

Second Reader.

"My boy," said the king, " on such a bench in
the park you will find a little book that I was
reading. Go and bring it to me and you shall
have a dollar."

The boy did not know the king, but he
thought that no man in his senses would offer
a dollar for such a small service. So he simply
glanced upwards and said, ** Do you think I'm a
fool ? "

"Do you think I am making fun of you?"
asked the king. " Of course you are," said the
boy. " Nobody would give a dollar for so little
work as that."

"Here, then, is the dollar," said the king.
" Now, perhaps you will go." The boy took the
money, and his eyes sparkled, for he never had
so much silver in his hand before. Still he did
not move.

" Why do you not go ? " asked the king. " I
am in a hurry." The boy took off his hat and
stammered out, " I should like to go, but I dare
not. If my geese were to get away I should be
dismissed."

"Never mind!" said the king. "I shall look
after the geese while you are away."

"You?" said the boy, looking at the stranger
from head to foot; "you would make a fine
goose-keeper. Why, they would run away down

The Kino and the Goose Boy.

the hill into the water, and then I should have a
pretty time of it. Look at that old fellow with
the black head. He belongs to the king's gar-
dener, and he is a brute to manage. He would
run away before you could turn around."

"But I can manage people," said the king,
"and surely I could manage a flock of geese."
"Ah I" said the lad, "then you are perhaps a
schoolmaster. But boys and girls are easier to
manage thaa ihme geese. "

The king could not keep from laughing, but
he told the boy he would pay for any damage to
the geese. So the little fellow started off, after
putting his whip into the king's hand.

But he soon stopped and ran back. "What
now?" enquired the king. "Why! crack the
whip!" shouted the boy. "Crack the whip! or
they will all be away." So the king tried and
tried, but couldn't make the least sound.

" Well, you are a fine one ! " said the boy.
"You want to keep geese and can't crack a
whip ! "

So he snatched the whip from the king, and
swinging it round made it crack and crack again,
until all the geese closed in together and began
to eat the sweet grass. " That is the way now,"
said the little fellow. " Now try it ! " So the
king tried again, and after a time could make

i li

*i !

Second Reader.

the whip sound a little. Then the boy went off
at full speed.

No sooner was he gone than the geese appeared
to know it. The big fellow with the black head
gave two or three screeches, and then up the
whole flock rose in a body, and half-running, half-
flying, were soon settled in the middle of the lake.

The king shouted, but it was of no use. He
tried to crack the whip, but he couldn't make it
sound. He ran here and there, but only suc-
ceeded in driving the birds farther into the lake.
Then overcome with heat, he threw himself on
the grass and laughed loud and long.

When the boy returned with the book, he was
both hot and angry. "I knew you couldn't mind
them," he said. "Now I am in for trouble. But
you must help me to get them together again."
So he showed the king how to call, and how
to wave his arms. Then after a long time
they chased the geese out of the lake, into the
meadow.

Then said the boy, "No one will ever get me
to leave my geese again — not even the king."
"Quite right, my boy," said the king, handing
him another dollar. "The king will never ask
to take care of them again, for you see I myself
am the king."

Summer Bain.

It was now the boy's turn to look amazed.
Taking off his hat, he thanked the king for his
kindness, but remarked, " I am very sorry to
have talked to you as I did, but even a king
can't manage geese if he hasn't learned how."

SUMMER RAIN.

gentle, gentle summer rain.

Let not the silver lily pine.
The drooping lily pine in vain, .

To feel that dewy touch of thine,
To drink thy freshness once again,
O gentle, gentle summer rain !

In heat the landscape quivering lies ;

The cattle pant beneath the trees ;
Through parching air and purple skies,

The earth looks up in vain for thee ;
For thee, for thee it looks in vain,
O gentle, gentle summer rain.

Come, thou, and brim the meadow streams.
And soften all the hills with mist ;

O falling dew, from burning dreams.
By thee shall herb and flower be kissed.

And earth shall bless thee yet again,

gentle, gentle summer rain.

Second Beadeb.

LORD NELSON'S BOYHOOD.

When Lord Nelson was a boy he went as a
midshipman on board a vessel commanded by
his uncle, on a cruise of discovery in the Arctic
ocean.

One day a party was sent out on a large field
of ice to try to shoot seals or other animals for
fresh meat. Young Nelson went with them.

They had been out some time when they
noticed that Horatio was missing. They could
not see him anywhere.

At length they h^ard the repoit of a gun, and
running in the direction of the sound, they found
that he had woimded a great white bear, but
that he had only slightly disabled it.

Fortunately for him there was a large crack in
the ice between him and the bear, and as often
as the bear tried to jump across this crack,
young Nelson struck him with his musket, and
knocked him back.

The whole party ran towards him, and arrived
just in time. The boy in making a hard blow at
the bear slipped and fell, and his gun fell from
his hands.

In a moment the angry beast had bounded
across the chasm and was about to kill the

Lord Nelson.

Lord Nelson's Boyhood.

defenceless lad, when on'^ ol' the men fired and
saved the too daring boy.

His uncle was at first very angry, and scolded
Horatio for his folly; but he could not help
admiring his bravery.

" Why did you go alone to attack a bear ? " he
asked.

" I wanted to get the skin for my father," the
boy answered.

Then the captain's voice grew tender, and
taking his nephew's hand, he said : " Were you
not afraid, Horatio?"

" What is meant by being afraid, uncle ? " the
boy asked.

His imcle tried to make him understand what
fear is, but the brave boy could not understand
him fully, because he had never felt fear.

The enemies of England found, when he be-
came a man, that Lord Nelson was never afraid
of them, and his sailors were always brave when
they had their darling hero to lead them.

■ 1 1

Second Reader.

EVENING.

It is the hour of evening,

When nature is at rest :
Each weary bird is sleeping

Within its pleasant nest ;
The bee has ceased its humming,

The fish no longer springs,
Even the happy butterfly

Closes its shiny wings.

The pretty flowers are lying

Half hidden in the grass ;
They cannot hear our footsteps

Or our voices as we pass.
For all their darling blossoms

Are shut in slumber deep.
Just like the eyes of children

When they are fast asleep !

The flowing of the water

Is a very sleepy sound —
The lullaby of nature,

With silence all around ;
The music of the night-time,

It lulleth to repose.
The never-resting water.

How sleepily it flows !

The Ugly Duckling.

THE UGLY DUCKLING.

Part I. '

It was fine summer weather in the country.
The corn was golden, the oats were green, and
the haystacks in the meadows were beautiful.
Around the cornfields and the meadows were
large forests, and in these forests were deep
pools of water. How pleasant it was to walk in
the country !

In a suni.y spot, stood a pleasant old farm-
house. It was near a deep river, and from the
house down to the water grew great burdock
leaves. These were so high that a little child
might stand upright imder the taller ones.

This spot was as wild as the marsh itself

In this cozy place sat a duck on her nest,
waiting for her young brood to hatch. She
was beginning to get tired of her task, for the
little ones were a long time coming out of their
shells, and she seldom had any visitors. The
other ducks liked to swim in the water much
better than to climb the slippery banks and sit
under a burdock leaf to keep her company.

At last one shell cracked, and then another.
From each egg came a living creature that lifted
its head and cried, ** Peep I peep ! "

i;i

imi

Second Reader.

" Quack I quack ! " said the mother. Then
they all tried to quack, and looked about them
at the green leaves. The mother let them look,
because green is good for the eyes.

" How large the world is 1 " said all the young
ducks. For they found they had much more
room than when they lay in the shell.

** Indeed 1 " said the mother, ** do you think
this is the whole world ? It reaches far over the
other side of the garden, as far as the parson's
field ; but I have never gone so far as that."

** Are you all out ? " she asked, rising to her
feet. ** Oh, no I you have not all come yet.
That largest egg lies there still. How much
longer must this go on ? I am quite tired ; "
and she seated herself again on her nest.

" Well, how are you getting on ? " asked an
old duck who came to pay her a visit.

"It takes so long for that one egg," replied
the duck from her nest; **it will not break.
But just look at the others ! Are they not the
dearest ducklings you ever saw ? They are the
image of their father."

"Let me look at that egg which will not
break ! " said the old duck. " I believe it is a
turkey's egg. I was led to hatch some once,
and after all my care and trouble with the young

The Ugly DuckliKg.

ones, they were afraid of the water. I could not
bring them to it. I did my best, but it was of
no use. Let me see that egg !

" Yes ; it is a turkey's egg. Let it lie there.
You would better teach the other children to

swim.

" I will sit here a little while longer," said the
duck. " I have sat here so long already, I may
as well try a few days more."

** Just as you please," said the old duck, turn-
ing away.

Part II.

At last the great egg broke. *' Peep I peep I "
said the ycimg one, as it stepped forth. He was
larger than the others, and very ugly.

The duck looked at him. ** He is certainly a
very large duckling," she said. "He does not
look like the others. Can it be that he is a
young turkey ? We shall soon see. Into the
water he must go, even if I have to push him."

On the next day the weather was fine. The
sun shone upon all the green burdock leaves.
The mother duck went with her whole family
down to the water.

Splash ! She sprang in. ** Quack ! quack ! "
cried she, and all the little ducklings plunged
in after her.

/ ^.

Second Reader.

;■

The water closed over their little heads, but
they quickly came to the surface, and swam
bravely. Every one was in the water ; even the
ugly young duckling was swimming. .^

, " No, he is no turkey," said the mother. "See
how finely he uses his legs, and how well he
holds himself ! He is my own child ; and he is
not so very ugly, either, if you look at him
aright.

" Quack ! quack ! Just come with me, and I
will take you to the duck yard. But stay close
by me, so that no one may tread upon you, and
take care that the cat does not get you ! "

And so they came into the farmyard, and
there they found a great quarrel, for two families
of ducks were fighting over an eel's head, which,
after all, the cat seized and ate.

" See, children I that is the way of the world,"
said the duck mother, who would have liked the
eel's head herself.

**Now, use your legs," she added, *'and
behave as well as you can ! You must bow
your heads before the old duck yonder. She is
the most distinguished duck in the yard. She
is of Spanish blood : that is why she is so fat :
and see ! she has a red rag tied to her leg.
That is something to be proud of It is a great
honor for a duck. She is so much prized that

*■:■

The Ugly Duckling.

they fear to lose her, and by this sign everybody
knows her well."

" Now, quickly ! do not turn your toes in, but
out, — see ? — so ! Now bow your heads and say
'Quack!'" And so they did, but the other
ducks all laughed aloud.

" Just see ! here comes another brood," said
an old duck. "As if there were not enough
already. And, oh ! see that duckling ! We will
not have him here ! " Then one duck flew at
him and bit him in the neck.

" Let him alone I " said the mother duck.
*' He does nobody any harm."

*' Yes ; but he is so big and so ugly," said the
duck who had bitten him, "and therefore he
must be bitten."

"They are beautiful children," said the old
duck with the red rag on her leg, — "all but
that one. I wish he were improved."

" That cannot be done, Your Grace," said the
duck mother. " He is not beautiful, but he has
a good temper, and swims grandly with the
others, — I think even better than they. I could
wish he were not so large; but I think he stayed
too long in the egg."

Then she stroked his feathers with her bill.
"I think he will grow up strong, and able to
take care of himself"

Second Reader.

" The other ducklings do very well," said the
old duck. " Now, make yourselves at home,
and if you find an eel's head you may bring it
to me." y

And so they made themselves at home.

But that poor duckling who had come last from
the egg was bitten, and pushed, and laughed at
by the ducks as well as the hens.

"He is too big," said they. And the turkey
cock, who had been born into the world with
spurs, and thought he was a king, puffed himself
out like a ship with full sails, and flew at the
duckling. The poor thing did not know where
to stand or where to go ; he was very unhappy,
because he was so abused by the whole duck
yard.

Part III.

So went the first day, and afterwards it grew
worse. The poor duckling was driven about by
everybody. Even his sisters turned against him,
and said, " Oh ! you ugly thing ! I wish the cat
might catch you ! " The ducks bit him, the hens
beat him, and the girl who fed them kicked him
with her foot.

At last he ran away.

" It is just because I am so ugly," thought the
duckling. And he flew until he came to a great

!■

The Ugly Duckling.

field where some wild ducks lived. Here he lay
all night, for he was tired and troubled.

In the morning the wild ducks awoke, and
saw their new comrade.

" What sort of thing are you 1 " they said.
And the duckling bowed on all sides, as politely
as he could.

"What an ugly creature you are!" said the
wild ducks. "But that doesn't matter, if you
don't ni rry into oiu* family."

Poor "i ling I He had no wish to marry a
wild duck. He simply wanted to lie among the
rushes, ad to drink the water in the marsh.
He lay there two whole days, and then two wild
geese flew down where he was hiding. They
were young things, for they had not been out
of the egg long. That explains why they were
so saucy.

"Listen, comrade," they said; "you are so
ugly that we like you very well. Will you go
with us ? Not far away there is another marsh
as lovely as this, and perhaps you can find a wild
goose there who is as ugly as you are."

Crack ! crack ! they heard, and both geese fell
dead on the marsh. The sound came again, —
pifF! paff ! crack ! crack I A flock of wild geese
flew into the air.

NrtP*'

'i\

Second Eeadeb.

The huntsmen had come. The smoke from
their guns rolled over the marsh like clouds over
the water. The poor duckling was afraid. He
turned his head this way and that, but he did
not know where to go.

Just then a great dog came near. His tongue
hung from his mouth, his jaws were open, and
his eyes glared fearfully.

He thrust his nose close to the duckling, and
showed his sharp teeth ; but, splash I splash ! —
away he went without touching him.

" Oh ! " sighed the duckling, " how thankful I
am that I am so ugly ! Even a dog will not
bite me."

So he lay still, while the shot rattled around
him.

It was late in the day before it became quiet.
Even then the poor thing did not dare to move.
He waited quietly for many hours. At last he
flew forth, away from the marsh, as fast as he
could. He hurried over field and meadow ; but
a storm came up, and the wind blew so hard
that he could not fly against it.

Part IV.

Toward evening he saw a tiny little cottage.
It seemed ready to fall, it was so old. It
remained standing because it did not know on

The Ugly Duckling.

which side to fall first. The winds blew, the
rain fell, and the duckling could fly no farther.
He sat down by the cottage, and then he saw
that its door was open, leaving room for him to
enter. He slipped through the door and found
shelter.

There lived in the cottage a woman, with her
cat and her hen. The cat was called Little Son
by his mistress. He could raise his back, and
purr ; he could even throw out sparks from his
fur if he was stroked the wrong way.

The hen had very short legs. Her mistress
named her Chicken Short Legs. She laid good
eggs, and the woman loved her as if she were
her own child.

In the morning they saw the strange duckling.
The cat began to purr, and the hen began to
cluck.

"What is this?" said the woman, as she
looked about her. But she did not see very
well, and so she thought that the duckling must
be a fat duck which had lost its way.

" That's a prize ! '' she said. " Now I can
have some ducks' eggs." So she let the duckling
stay in the house three weeks; but no eggs came.

Now the cat was the master of the house and
the hen was the mistress. They always said.

Second Header.

Iiil
I

" We and the world," for they believed that they
were half of the world, — and the better half, too.
The duckling thought differently, but the hen
would not listen to him. ^^ .

** Can you lay eggs ? " she asked.

*'No."

** Then be so good as to hold your tongue."

And the cat said, " Can you raise your back,
and purr, and send out sparks ? "

**No."

"Then you have no right to speak when
sensible people are speaking."

So the duckling sat in the comer, feeling very
lonely. After a while the sun shone, and the
fresh air came into the room. Then he began
to feel a great longing to swim in the water, and
he could not help telling the hen.

" How absurd I" she said. "You have nothing
to do, and so you think nonsense. If you could
lay eggs, or purr, it would be all right." i

" But it is so delightful to swim about on the
water," said the duckling. " It is so grand to
have it close over your head, while you dive
down to the bottom ! "

"Yes, it must be delightful I" said the hen.
" You must be out of your senses. Ask the cat.
He knows more than any one else. Ask him

The Ugly Duckling.

how he would like to swim on the water, and
dive down to the bottom. I will not tell you
what / think. Ask our mistress, the old lady,
for she knows mr^e than all the rest of the
world. Do y. ti) \ she would * ko to swim,
or to let the water close over her head ? "

"You do not understand me," said the duck-
ling.

" We do not understand you ? Who can im-
derstand you, then ? Do you think you know
more than all the rest ? — than the cat, and the
old lady? — I do not speak of myself. Do not
think such nonsense, child, but thank your stars
that we let you in. Are you not in a warm
room ? Are you not in good company, who may
teach you something? But you talk nonsense,
and your company is not very pleasant. I am
speaking for your good. What I say may not
be pleasant to hear, but that is a proof of my
friendship. I advise you to lay eggs, and to
learn to purr as quickly as possible."

"I believe I must go out into the world
again," said the poor duckling.

And the duckling went. He came to the
water, where he could swim and dive, but all
other animals turned away from him because he
was so ugly.

R.i'|

i ■

» 1

Second Reader.

Part V.

And now came the autumn. The leaves of
the forest were gold and brown. The wind
caught them as they fell, and whirled them into
the cold air. The clouds hung full of hail and
snowflakes, and the ravens sat on the ferns,
crying, " Croak ! croak I " It made one shiver
to see the world.

All this was hard for the poor duckling.

One evening, at sunset, a flock of beautiful
birds came out of the bushes. The duckling had
never seen any like them before. They were
swans. They curved their graceful necks, and
their soft feathers were white and shining. They
flew high in the air, and the ugly duckling was
left sad and sorrowful.

He whirled in the water, stretched his neck
high in the air, and uttered a strange cry. He
could never forget those beautiful birds; and
when they were out of sight, he was beside
himself. He knew not their names, only that
they had gone ; and, oh ! how he wished that
he might be as lovely as they were.

The winter was cold, — so cold. The duckling
was obliged to swim about on the water to keep
from freezing, but every night the place where
he swam grew smaller and smaller.

The Ugly Duckling.

side
hat
hai

At last it froze so hard that the ice in the
water crackled as he moved. The duckling had
to paddle with his legs to keep the water from
freezing. At last he was worn out, and lay still
and helpless, frozen in the ice.

Early in the morning a poor man came by.
He saw what had happened. He broke the ice
with his wooden shoe, and carried the duckling
home to his wife. There he came to himself
again.

But the children wanted to play with him, and
the duckling was afraid that they would hurt
him. He started up in terror, flew into the
milkpan, and splashed the milk about the room.
The woman clapped her hands, which frightened
him the more. He flew into the meal tub, and
out again. How he looked 1

The woman screamed, and struck at him with
the tongs. The children laughed and screamed,
and tried to catch him. The door stood open.
He was just able to slip out among the bushes,
and to lie down in the sun.

It would be too sad if I were to tell you all
that the poor duckling suffered in the hard
winter ; but when it had passed, he found him-
self lying, one morning, in the marsh amongst
tho rushes. The warm sun shone, the lark sang,
the beautiful spring had come.

^ i

(

IS,

Second Reader.

Then the duckling felt that his wings were
strong. He flapped them against his sides, and
rose high into the air. He flew on and on, until
he came to the great garden where the apple
trees blossomed. Elder trees bent their long
branches down to the stream, which flowed
through the grass.

Oh I here it was fresh and beantiful; and, soon,
from the bushes close by cam three beautiful
swans. They rustled their feathers, and swam
lightly on the water. The duckling remembered
the lovely birds. He felt strangely unhappy.

" I will fly to them," he said. " They will kill
me because I am so ugly. That is just as well.
It is better to be killed by the swans than to be
bitten by the ducks, beaten by the hens, pushed
about by the girl who feeds the chickens, and
starved with hunger in the winter."

So he flew into the water, and swami toward
the splendid swans. The moment they saw him,
they rushed to meet him.

" Only kill me ! " said the poor duckling. He
bent his head to the water, and waited for death.

But what did he see in the clear water ? He
saw his own picture in the water, no longer an
ugly duckling, but a beautiful white swan 1

To be bom in a duck's nest in a farmyard is
no matter, if one is hatched from a swan's egg.

The Ugly Ducklinc;.

He was glad now that he had suffered sorrow
and trouble. He could enjoy so much better all
the new happiness and pleasure. The great
swans swam around him, and stroked his neck
with their beaks.

Some children came into the garden, and
threw bread and corn into the water.

** See ! " said the youngest ; *' there is a new

one.

>»

The other children were delighted.

" Yes, a new one has come ;" and they clapped
their hands and ran to their father and mother,
and brought cakes and bread to throw into the
water.

They shouted together, "The new one is the
most beautiful, he is so young and so pretty."

And the old swans bowed their graceful heads
before him.

Then he felt quite ashamed, and hid his head
under his wing. He did not know what to do,
he was so happy ; but he was not at all proud.
He had been despised while he was ugly, and
now he heard them say that he was the most
beautiful of all the birds.

Even the elder tree bent down its boughs into
the water before him, and the sun shone clear
and bright.

hK .' i

Second Reader.

He shook his . white feathers, curved his
slender neck, and cried from a full heart, ** I
never dreamed, while I was an ugly duckling,
that I could be so happy 1 "

THE RIVER.

River, River, little River,

Bright you sparkle on your way,
' O'er the yellow pebbles dancing.
Through the flowers and foliage glancing,
Like a child at play.

River, River, swelling River,

On you rush, o'er rough and smootli,
Louder, faster, brawling, leaping
Over rocks, by rose-banks sweeping.
Like impetuous youth.

River, River, brimming River,

Broad and deep, and still as Time ;
Seeming still — yet still in motion,
Tending onward to the ocean,
Just like mortal prime.

River, River, rapid River,

Swifter now you slip away ;
Swift and silent as an arrow ;
Through a channel dark and narrow,
Like life's closing day.

The Stone in the Road.

THE STONE IN THE ROAD.

• There was once a very rich man who lived in
a beautiful castle near a small town. He loved
the people of the town, and tried in many ways
to help them. He planted trees in the streets,
built schoolhouses for the children, and ^ave
his gardens for pleasure-grounds on Saturday
afternoons.

But the people did not love to work. They
were unhappy because they were not as "icl' as
the owner of the castle. They were never done
complaining and grumbling.

One day the rich man got up very ear^y and
placed a large stone in the road that led past his
home. Then he hid himself behind the fence
and waited to see what would happen.

By and by a poor man came a' :ig driving a
cow. He scolded because the stone lay in his
path, but he walked around it j^nd passed on his
way. Then a farmer came in a waggon. He,
too, began to scold and complain because the
stone was in the way, but he drove around
it and continued his journey. And . so the
day passed. Every one who came by scolded
and fretted because of the stone, but nobody
touched it.

ill '\

■1/ ■//■

> 1/ ' Second Reader.

(.1

f:;

At last, just at evening, the miller's boy came
down the road. He was a hard-working young
fellow, and he was very tired after a hard day's
work. But he thought to himself, " It is almost
' dark. Some one will fall over this stone during
the night, and perhaps get badly hurt. I must
move it out of the way." So he tugged, and
pulled and pushed, and at last succeeded in
moving it from its place.

To his great surprise he found a bag lying
beneath it. The bag was well filled with gold,
and on it was written these words, " This gold
belongs to the one who moves the stone."

It is no wonder that the miller's boy went
home with a light heart. How do you suppose
the other townsmen felt who passed along the
road ?

i:;

THE WISE FAIRY.

, ^ Once, in a rough, wild country,
• On the other side of the sea,

, jttfThere lived a dear little fairy,
\^ And her home was in a tree.

; A dear little, queer little fairy.
And as rich as she could be.

■. <

■/»=

The Wise Fairy. 69

To northward and to southward,

She could overlook the land,
And that was why she had her house

In a tree, you understand. '
For she was the friend of the friendless,

And hier heart was in her hand.

And when she saw poor women

Patiently, day by day.
Spinning, spinning, and spinning

Their lonesome lives away.
She would hide in the flax of their distaffs

A lump of gold, they say.

And when she saw poor ditchers,

Knee-deep in some wet dike,
I^igging, digging, and digging,

To their very graves, belike,
She would hide a shining lump of gold

Where their spades would be sure to strike.

And when she saw poor children
Their goats from the pastures take,

Or saw them milking and milking
Till their arms were ready to break,

What a plashing in their milking pails
Her gifts of gold would make !

Sometimes in the night, a fisher

Would hear her sweet low call,
And all at once a salmon of gold
' Right out of his net would fall ;
But what I have to tell you

Is the strangest thing of all.

• Second Keadeb. . |'

If any ditcher, or fisher.
Or child, or spinner old
. Bought shoes for his feet, or bread to eat,
Or a coat to keep from the cold,
« The gift of the good old fairy \

Was always trusty gold.

But if a ditcher, or a fisher.

Or spinner, or child so gay.
Bought jewels, or wine, or silks so fine.

Or staked his pleasure at play.
The fairy's gold in his very hold

Would turn to a lump of clay.

So, by and by, the people

Got open their stupid eyes :
" We must learn to spend to some good end,"

They said, " if we are wise ;
" 'Tis not in the gold we waste or hold

That a golden blessing lies."

LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION.

Pi; <■

.|l:i

A gentleman once advertised for a boy to
assist him in his office, and nearly fifty applied
for the place. Out of the whole number he in a
short time chose one, and sent all the rest away.

"I should like to know," said a friend, "on
what ground you chose that boy. He had not
a single recommendation with him."

^d,"

to
ied
a
ay.
on
lot

Letters of IRecommendation.

^* You are mistaken," said the gentleman ; " he
had a great many : —

"He wiped his feet when he came in, and
closed the door after him ; showing that he was
orderly and tidy.

*' He gave up his seat instantly to that lame old
man ; showing that he was kind and considerate.
" He took off his cap when he came in, and
answered my questions promptly and respect-
fully; showing that he was polite.

" He lifted up the book which I had purposely
laid on the floor, and placed it on the table, while
all the rest stepped over it, or shoved it aside ;
showing that he was careful.

"And he waited quietly for his turn, instead
of pushing the others aside; showing that he
was modest.

"When talking with him, I noticed that his
clothes were carefully brushed, his hair in nice
order, and his teeth as white as milk. When he
wrote his name, I observed that his finger-nails
were clean, instead of being tipped with jet, like
those of the handsome little fellow in the blue
jacket.

" Don't you call these things letters of recom-
mendation ? I do ; and what I can know about
a boy by using my eyes for ten minutes, is worth
more than all the fine letters of recommendation
he can bring me."

ir^

Second Reader.

FROM PIPPA PASSES.

The year's at the Spring
And day's at the morn ;
Morning's at seven ;

The hillside's dew-pearle<l ;

The lark's on the wing ;
The snail's on the thorn ;
God's in His Heaven —
All's right with the world.

LITTLE THINGS.

A little spring had lost its way

Amid the grass and fern ;
A passing stranger scooped a well

Where weary men might turn.

He walled it in, and hung with care

A ladle at its brink ;
He thought not of the deed he did,

But judged that toil might drink.

\
He passed again, and lo ! the well.

By summers never dried,

Had cooled ten thousand parching tongues,

And saved a life beside.

How A Butterfly Came.

HOW A BUTTERFLY CAME.

es,

Late in September a lady saw a worm upon
a willow leaf. It was about two inches long,
and almost as large as her little finger. Stripes
of black, green and yellow went around its little
body.

The lady carried leaf and sleeper home. She
took willow leaves for it to eat, put them all in
a glass dish, and tied lace over it.

In just one week her guest was gone. All the
leaves were gone ; only a lovely green bag was
left. It was just one inch long, was made very
neatly, and looked much like a little bed or
cradle. No stitches could be seen, and the
seams had an edge like gold cord.

Gold and black dots like tiny buttons were
on it. The caterpillar had sewed himself in.
His old clothes were near by. He had pushed
them off in a hurry. The new home was made
fast to a bit of cloth.

Almost six weeks the little sleeper lay in his
silken cradle. Early in November he burst the
pretty green hammock, and then the old home
turned white.

A lovely butterfly came out. It had brown
and golden wings, with stripes of black, like

;? -t! 1

^-1'

..;[|

Second Reader.

cords, on them, and a feathery fringe of white
for each stripe.

On the edges of the wings were white and
yellow dots. The head was black, and also had
white and yellow dots on it. The inside of the
wings was darker; it was like orange-tinted
velvet. All these changes wert? in less than two
months.

THE REAL THIEF.

(a dog's story.)

I did not take it. Indeed not I,

I'll tell you the story ; I'll tell you why r

I pR,B8ed by the larder, all by myself ; . ^

I saw a fowl on the larder shelf.

I peeped through the door, and I said to Myself —
Don't you think that's a fowl on the larder shelf ?
There's not the least doubt of it, answered Myself ;
It's a very fat fowl on the larder shelf.

Well, there, never mind it, said I to Myself ;
Come away and don't look at the larder shelf.
So I ran off at once. Miss ; but somehow Myself,
When I wasn't looking, climbed up to the shelf ;

But I caught him, and scolded the wicked Myself ;
Come down sir, I told him, come down from the

shelf.
But he wouldn't obey me, that wicked Myself,
For he ate all the fowl on the larder shelf.

- ■•r

The TowN-MuslclANs of Brem^k.

THE TOWN-MUSICIANS OF BREMEN.

Part I.

A poor fanner had a donkey which had
patiently carried the com to the mill for many
a long day ; now he was getting old and weak,
and grew more and more unable for heavy work.
Then the farmer began to think he perhaps
wasn't quite worth keeping; and the donkey,
thinking his master intended to get rid of him,
ran away from the farm and set oif on the road
to the town of Bremen.

" At Bremen," he thought, *' they will perhaps
make me town-musician." After travelling some
distance, he came to a hound, stretched out on
the road and panting for breath. "What are
you panting so for, my fine fellow ? " asked the
donkey.

" Oh," sighed the hound, " I am old and good-
for-nothing. I can no longer hunt, and, as my
master was going to kill me, I fled from him;
and now, what can I do for a living?" "I'll
tell you what," said the donkey ; " I'm going to
Bremen to be town-musician; come with me,
and become a musician too. I will play the
flute, and you shall beat the drum.'*

i;|!

i .^

Second Reader.

The hound was willing, so they continued
their road together. They hadn't gone far
before they came to a cat, sitting on the path,
with a miserable, woe-begone face. " Hallo !
Old Whiskers, what's gone wrong with yoi?"
said the donkey.

"Who could be cheerful when his life is in
danger?" replied the cat. "Because ^'m grow-
ing old and my teeth are gone, and because it's
pleasanter to sit by the fire and purr, than to
chase and kill the mice, my mistress was going
to drown me, so I ran away. Pray advise me,
good gentlemen. What am I to do ? "

" Come with us to Bremen," said the donkey.
" You are very musical at night. Come and be
a town-musician." Tabby agreed to this pro-
posal, and set off along with t.^ -n. Presently
the three runaways came to a farmyarcl, and
there, upon a gate, a cock was sitting and
crowing with all his might.

"Your voice is shrill enough to split one's head
open," said the donkey. "What's the matter
with you ? " " Well, I was crowing to tell folks
we were going to have fine weather ; but guests
are coming, and my heartless mistress has told
the cook to make soup of me for to-morrow, and
this evening I'm to have my head cut off. So I
am having a good crow while I can."

The Town-Musicians of Bremen.

" Well, Ked-comb, you had better come with
us," said the donkey. ** We're on our way to
Bremen ; and everywhere one can find some-
thing better to do than to die. You have a
good loud voice ; and, if we all sing out together,
it will have a very fine effect."

The cock consented, and the four comrades
went on along the road together. Bremen was
more than a day's journey off; so, when night
came, they encamped in a forest. The donkey
and the hound lay down under the shelter of a
tree, among the branches of which the cat and
the cock settled, the cock flying to the topmost
bough, where he thought he should be safest.

But, before he went to sleep, he peered care-
fully all round into the darkness, and at a little
distance he fancied he saw a tiny spark. So he
caDed out to his friends below that they must be
near a house, for he saw a light burning.

" If that is so," said the donkey, " then we had
better jog on a little farther, for we are not very
comfortable here." The hound thought that a
bone or two with a bit of meat on them would
do him a world of good.

Part II.

So they made their way through the forest in
the direction of the light, which grew brighter
and larger as they drew nearer. Presently they

Second Header.

found themselves standing opposite a robber's
house, all brilliantly lightefl from top to bottom.
The donkey, being the tallest, went and looked
in at the window.

"What do you see, Graycoat?" asked the
cock. "What do I see?" replied the donkey;
"why, I see a tiible loaded with all kinds of good
things to eat and drink, and robbers sitting all
round it enjoying themselves." "That's just
what we should like to be doing," said the cock.
"Yes, indeed 1 how I wish we were there," said
the donkey.

Then the four animals held a council as to
how they could contrive to drive away the
robbers; and, after much discussion, they hit
upon a plan. The donkey was to put his fore-
feet on the window-sill, the hound was to get on
the donkey's back, the cat was to climb on the
shoulders of the dog, and the cock was to fly up
and perch on the head of the cat.

When all was ready, at a certain signal, the
animals all began to sing out together ; the don-
key brayed, the hound barked, the cat mewed,
and the cock crowed. Then they crashed through
the window into the room, and the glass fell with
a tremendous clatter on the floor.

The robbers, hearing such a horrible noise,
and thinking that a ghost must have come into

The Town-Musicians of Bremen.

the
lyup

the

don-

jwed,

ough

with

the house, fled aftrighted into the forest. The
four friends now seated themselves at the table,
highly satisfied with what was left, and ate
enough to last them for a month.

Their plenteous meal ended, the sweet singers
put out the lights, and each looked for a suitable
sleeping-place. The donkey lay down on some
straw in the yard, the hound found a cozy corner
behind the door, the cat curled itself up upon
the hearth near the warm ashes, and the cock
perched himself on a beam in the bam ; and,
being very tired with their long journey, they
were soon sound asleep.

A little after midnight, the robbers peered out
of their hiding-place and saw that the lights were
out in the house, and that everything was still.
Said the captain, "What fools we were to let
ourselves be frightened so." Then he sent one
of the band to go and examine the house and see
what was the matter.

Everything was perfectly quiet, so the messen-
ger went into the kitchen to light a candle, and
thinking the burning, fiery eyes of the cat were
live coals, he held a lucifer match to them to
light it. But the cat, not liking his blunder, flew
in his face, spitting and scratching.

Frightened out of his wits, he was rushing out
of the back door, when the hound, who had made

Second Reader.

his bed there, sprang out and bit him on the leg ;
and, as he darted across the yard, the donkey
gave him a vicious kick with its hind-foot. Dis •
tm-bed by all this commotion, the cock grew wide
awake, and shrilled down from his beam, " Cock-
a-doodle-do I " •

Away ran the robber to the captain as fast as
his legs could carry him, and said, " Oh, there is
such a dreadful witch sitting in the house ; she
spat at me and scratched my face with her
finger-nails ; behind the back-door stands a man
with a dagger, who stabbed me in the leg; in the
straw-yard is a black monster, who banged me
with a monstrous wooden club ; and aloft upon
the roof there sits a judge, who cried out, * Bring
the rogue to me.' So I ran off as fast as I
could."

On hearing this, the robbers did not dare to
go back to the house again ; and the four musi-
cians of Bremen found it suited them so well,
that they determined to settle there for the rest
of their lives.

FAIRY FOLK.

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen.

We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men.

Little Boy Blue.

Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together ;

Green jacket, red-cap,
And white owl's feather.

Down along the rocky shore

Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes

Of yellow tide-foam :
Some in the reeds

Of the black mountain-lake.
With frogs for their watch-dogs,

AH night awake.

LITTLE BOY BLUE.

The little toy dog is covered with dust,

But sturdy and staunch he stands ;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,

And his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new,

And the soldier was passing fair ;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue

Kissed them and put them there.

" Now, don't you go till I come," he said,

" And don't you make any noise ! "
So, toddling off to liis trundle-bed,

He dreamt of the pretty toys ;
And, as he was dreaming, an angel song

Awakened our Little Boy Blue —

Oh ! the years are many, the years are long, ,

But the little toy friends are true !
e

82 Second Reader. .<

Aye, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,

Each in the same old place —
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,

The smile of a little face ;
And they wonder, as waiting the long years
through

In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue,

Since he kissed them and put them there.

STORY OF A DROP OF WATER.

Up among the hills there is a dell where a
headlong little stream rests for a moment, after
leaping from the rocks above, before it hurries
on toward the sea.

It rests in a deep pool, so clear that you may
count the pebbles at the bottom ; and, when the
sun shines, the little fish cast a shadow on the
white stones. All round about, the ivy clings to
the rocks ; and, just near enough to the water-
fall to be sprinkled now and then with the spray,
a wild convolvulus droops over the pool.

At the edge of one of the flower-bells I saw a
drop of water hang, and it seemed as though the
convolvulus were bending down an ear to listen
to what the drop of water had to say.

Story of a Drop of Water.

I said to myself, ** I will listen, too ; for if my
ears are too dull for such a tiny voice, perhaps
my heart can hear."

So I listened with my heart, and I will tell
you what the drop of water seemed to be
saying.

The convolvulus wanted to know all about the
travels of the drop. "Yoa restless little drop of
water," it said, "where do you come from, and
whither are you going ? I sit here all the day,
in the sunshine and the rain. I take thankfully
what God gives me, and I am very happy. I
love the stream, and the rocks, and the blue sky
overhead ; they are all so good to me.

" But still, before I die, I should like to know
what there is outside this little dell. The fishes
never speak, and the birds only sing. It makes
me glad to hear them; but they sing about
nothing but their mates and their little ones,
and something else that I cannot rightly under-
stand, though they say I shall know all about
it after I am dead.

"The bees come often to see me, but when I
ask them about the world they say they know
nothing about it; they have no time to think
about anything but honey. So pray, little drop
of water, tell me what you have seen."

/:"

Second Reader.

■t :;

And the little drop of water said, " Dear,
beautiful flower, I will tell you all I know,
for in all my travels I never met with any
one fairer than you. But I must be quick, for
there are thousands and thousands of us all
having a race to the sea, and I cannot bear to
be the last.

" I was born on a calm, starlight night, and I
found myself resting in the bosom of a daisy.
I looked round. There were thousands upon
thousands just like myself, seeming to come out
of the air, and to go to sleep on blades of grass
and in the cups of flowers.

" I listened, and I heard a gurgling of water
just below me, and then I could see that there
was a tiny little rill pushing its way amongst the
roots of the grass.

"Then there came a great light, and a little
breeze went shivering all amongst the leaves and
flowers. At that a thousand thousand sleepy
drops woke up, and leaping into the little rill
went hurrying along.

"I joined them, and we hastened on down
glassy slopes facing the morning sun. I was so
bright and glad then that I ran faster and faster,
till I slid over a smooth, broad stone, and found
myself in a deep, strong stream between high,
woody banks

Story of a Drop of Water.

Then, all at once, the world seemed to open
out before me. For one moment I could look
down a steep mountain height, and away over
sunny fields, and waving woods, and curling
smoke. For one moment only ; then I was
lost in a struggling, shouting, whirling maze
of drops, that seemed to have lost their senses
altogether.

" Some cried, ' On with you ! away ! ' others
cried, * Back ' ' some said, ' Here, this way ! '
others said, * No, that way ! ' But not one of us
could help himself at all. I was dashed against
a hard rock, flung back again, whirled round and
round, pushed under a shelving stone, and then
I took a leap right into the air.

" Away I went ; I was not at ail frightened,
you know, because this was just the rt of thing
I was born for.

** So I flew down, down, down tin ough ^lie air,
and I felt the sunbeams rattling i. gainst me all
the way ; and then they would spring back and
dance round me in circles of green and gold, and
red and blue. You can have no idea how de-
lightful it was.

''But it was soon over, and then I found
myself at the bottom of a waterfall, in a bioad
and quiet river. Here I travelled on more leis-
urely for some time. Then I was suddenly

ifk'

Second Reader.

pushed into a narrow channel ; and just as I
was wondering how this was to end I was
plunged into a deep, dark hole, where I had
to grope and stumble amongst the spokes of
a great wheel that went splashing round and
round.

" There was a grumbling noise like thunder
somewhere near, but I did not stop to find out
what it was ; I ran along as fast as I could, an 1
was glad to find myself out in the bro;id river
again.

" By and by we came to a town where large
ships could float on the water. If you saw them
you would wonder how little waterdrops such as
we are could bear them up ; but I suppose we
must be very strong, for we felt them no weight
at all.

<( (

Now,' we said to one another, *we shall
soon reach the sea.' But that was not quite so
easy as we supposed ; for suddenly we met a
vast host of salt-water drops marching straight
against us.

*' ' Let us pass,' we said, * for our home is in
the sea.'

" But they would not listen ; they came pour-
ing along with resistless power, and drove us
back for a mile or two.

Story of a Drop of Water.

\ .:

" Then they suddenly turned and ^said, * Come
along — it was only our fun.'

"And so we all swept out together amongst
the rolling ocean waves.

" Oh, it is a free and glorious life there ! No
banks to bind you in, no channels to force you
this way or that. Rising and falling, rolling and
swaying hither and thither, springing into the
air, playing with the sunbeams, and then plung-
ing back into the heart of gloomy waves, — it
is the heaven of waterdrops, to which we are
always trying to get back.

" But I was not to stay there long that time ;
a vast foaming billow shook me off from its crest.
A gust of wind caught me and carried me aloft.

" Then I faiui^ed in the hot sun, and I remem-
ber nothing more till I woke again on a bank of
silver cioud that glided before the wind towards
the distant hills. It was beautiful to see the
white-sailed ships flitting over the water, and the
shadows of the clouds racing over the broad
bright surface.

''But, as we floated on, we left the glorious
sea behind. Nearer and nearer came the hills,
growing darker as we approached. Then a
cold, wet wind met us, and we all shivered
and shook; and as we shivered we began to fall,

Second Reader.

=t> «

and knew that we were turned into a shower
of rain. :•••,.. ■ . ^^'■' ■'••'^ .'.'■•' ■'■■■:•',• ' . ;"^^v.:-

" I fell into a rocky crevice, and groped my
way along in the dark through many windings
and turnings, till suddenly I felt a bustle and
pushing all round me, and amongst a troop like
myself I burst into the sunlight again, and raced
aftpr the rest round and round a rocky basin
frin;red with fern.

** After several mazy circles I found my way
out. und was hurried alons^ to the top of the fall
that brought me to your feet.

" Farewell ! farewell, little flower ! Let me
away to my heaven in the sea. God tells you
to rest here, but to me he gives no rest except
in the glorious sea. And so wherever I am,
in cloud or rainbow, or stream or river, always
the one thing I crave for is to get back to the

sea.

Then the drop fell, and I could see him no
more.

THE LAND OF NOD.

Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear,
Your head like the golden rod, •

And we shall go sailing away from here
To the beautiful Land of Nod.

The Land of Nod.

Away from life's hurry and worry and flurry,
Away from earth's shadow and gloom,

To a world of fair weather, we'll float off together
Where roses are always in bloom. ,

Just shut up your eyes and fold your hands,

Your hands like the leaves of a rose,
And we will go sailing to those fair lands

That never an atlas shows.
On the north and the west they are bounded by rest,

On the south and the east by dreams,
'Tis the country ideal, where nothing is real,

But everything only seems.

Just drop down the curtains of your dear eyes.

Those eyes like a bright blue-bell.
And we will sail out under star-lit skies

To the land where the fairies dwell.
Down the river of Sleep our barge will sleep,

Till it reaches that mystic isle
Which no man has seen, but where all have been.

And there we will pause awhile.

I will croon you a song as we float along

To that shore which is blessed of God,

Then ho ! for that fair land, we're off to that rare
land,

That beautiful Land of Nod.

.msm

H''>i>'*

7 ">v'
• i.^ , ■■■<

Second Reader.

.- Ill

THE LAND OF NOD.

Do you know the way to the Land of Nod,

That city old and gray,
Where only at night the people awake

And at night the children play ?

I will tell you the way to that Land of Nod,
'Tis the pleasantest way that I know.

For you roll and roll, and roll and roll
Down the hills of long ago. . '-

You lay you down on the sweet green grass
When the flowers are going to sleep ;

You shut your eyes and listen awhile
To the little night-bird's peep.

And then you roll, and roll and roll

Down into the valley so sweet.
Where the fireflies dance with their fairy lamps

While the angels their night watches keep.

Don't open your eyes or you won't get in
Past those sentries of drowsy sleep,

Who guard this city from waking eyes
And from even the eyes that peep.

Then hush ! and listen as down you roll.

For the gates are opening wide ;
You can hear the bells of the fairy elves

As far through the valley they ride.

Little Red Riding-Hood.

/>■

Then roll and roll and roll and roll

Down into that valley so deep,
Where the fairies dance with their firefly lamps,

When the children are all asleep,

When the children are all asleep.

LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD.

I; I
, t

Far away in the heart of the country, near a
pretty village, there once lived a little girl. She
was one of the sweetest and best children you
ever saw.

Her mother loved her dearly, and her grand-
mother was very fond of her too. Grandma had
given her darling a little hood of red velvet, and
this became her so well, that every one who
knew Ler always called her by the name of
Little Red Riding-Hood.

Well, one day her mother baked a batch of
cakes, and she said to Red Riding-Hood : —

" I hear your poor grandma has not been well
lately ; so I want you to go, like a good child, to
see if she is any better. Take this cake and a
pot of butter with you."

Little Red Riding-Hood, who was a dear will-
ing child, put the things into a basket with great

Second Header.

care, and off she set. The house in which her
grandma Hved was on the other side of a thick
wood.

On ran Little Red Riding-IIood ; but, just as
she came to the wood, what should she meet but
a great ugly wolf. The wolf would have liked
to have eaten her up then and there ; but you
must know, there were some wood-cutters close
at hand, and they would soon have killed him in
turn. ,

So the wolf trotted up to the little girl, and
said as softly as he could, " Good morning. Little
Red Riding-Hood."

*' Good rmorning, Master Wolf," said she.

" And where may you be going so early ? " he
asked.

" Oh, I'm going to grandma's," said Little Red
Riding-Hood ; for she thought there was no
harm in being civil.

" Indeed ! And what have you got in the
basket, my pretty maid ? " asked the wolf, as he
sniffed and sniffed at the lid.

" Oh," said she, " only a cake and a pot of
butter ; for my granny is ill, you know."

" Dear me ! " cried the wolf, " and where does
she live, pray ? "

^ !

• /

Little Red Riding- Hood.

" he

the

ls he

)t of
loes

" Down by the mill, through the wood," said
she.

*' Well, if that's the case," said the wolf, " I
don't mind going and seeing ^^r too. I shall
go by the road, now, you tak th(^ path through
the wood, and let us see w vvill be there
first."

Away went the wolf, and he made all haste,
as you may guess. Sure enough, he stood at
granny's door in a very short time.

Thump, thump, went the wolf at the door.

" Who's there ? " cried out grandma, from
within.

Then the wolf said, in a small, child-like voice,
"It's only Little Red Riding-Hood; and I've
brought you a cake and a pot of butter from
mother."

So grandma, who was in bed, cried out, ** Pull
the string, my dear, and it will lift the latch."

This the great ugly wolf did, and in he went.
As soon as he was in, he fell on the poor old
woman, and ate her up in a minute. Next, he
shut the door, put on grandma's night-cap and
night-gown, and got into the bed. Then he drew
the curtains quite close, and hid his head on the
pillow.

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23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

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Second Reader.

r ' !

There the ugly wolf lay, how merry you can't
think, licking his lips, and waiting for Little Red
Riding-Hood.

^ All this while she toddled on through the
wood, here plucking a wild flower, there picking
some nice berries for her grandma. Then down
she sat on a mossy bank to sort her flowers, red,
blue, and yellow.

In a little while a wasp came up to her. He
buzzed about, and at last dropped on Red
Riding-Hood's posy of flowers.

" Sip away my poor little wasp ; and take as
much honey as you like," said Little Red Riding-
Hood.

The wasp hummed his thanks, as he flew
from flower to flower; and when he had sipped
enough, away he sped.

Soon a little wren hopped up, and he began
to peck with his wee bill at a berry. "Peck
away, my little wren, as much as you like, only
leave enough for grandma and me," said Riding-
Hood.

" Tweet, tweet," said the wee wren, for
"Thank you." So he ate his fill, and away he
flew.

Now Little Red Riding-Hood thought it was
high time for her to get on her way, so she

Little Red Riding-Hood.

for
he

Iwas

she

picked up her basket and set off. Soon she
came to a brook, and there she saw an old
woman, bent almost double.

" What are you looking for, Goody ? " said the
little girl.

"For water-cresses, my pretty chick,' said she;
** and a poor trade it is, let me tell you."

Little Red Riding-Hood gave Goody a bit of
cake, saying, '* Sit down. Goody, and eat. I will
pick the water-cresses for you." So the old
woman sat down and ate the cake, while Riding-
Hood got a heap of cresses.

"There's a dear ! " said Goody. " Now, if you
meet the Green Huntsman on your way, tell him
there's game in the wind."

That she would ; and away went Red Riding-
Hood, but when she looked round, the old
woman was gone.

Little Red Riding- Hood looked everywhere
for the Green Huntsman, but she could not see
him, until at last, just as she was passing a still
pool, she met him. He was all green from top
to toe, so that she could not mistake him.

" Good morning. Master Huntsman," said
Little Red Riding-Hood. " The old water-cress
woman bade me tell you that there's game in
the wind."

Second Reader.

The Green Huntsman nodded, but said
nothing. He bent his ear to the ground, strung
his bow and fitted an arrow, while Little Eed
Riding-Hood toddled away, trying to think what
it could all mean. , , -, A;^- .^

In a short time she got to her grandma's
house, and she tapped at the door.

" Who's there ? " cried the wolf from within,
in a queesr, gruff sort of voice.

" It's only your grandchild Eed Eiding-Hood ;
and I've brought you a nice cake and a pot of
fresh butter from mother." '

Then said the wolf more mildly, "Pull the
string, my dear, and it will lift the latch." So
she did as she was bid, and in she went.

Now the wolf hid his head under the bed-
clothes, and said, "Put the cake and pot of
butter on the shelf, my pet, and then come and
help me to get up." r>^^p- :t tfi n .^r itH ?

Well, Little Eed Eiding-Hood did so, but
when she came up to help her grandma, and
drew back the curtains, she could l make out
how her grandma had got so ugly. So she said,

"Dear me, grandma, what longf arms you've
got!" ■'■■ - ■■■' ■ ■ ' ^ ■ •-' -^i.rrJ^

The better to hug you, my dear." ■ ' f
But, grandma, what great eyes you've got

Hide and Seek.

the
So

" The better to see you, my child."

** But, grandma, what big teeth youVe got ! "

" The better to eat you up," said the wolf, as
he got ready to make a spring on her.

But, at that moment, the wasp, who had come
into the house along with Riding-Hood, stung
the wolf on the nose, so that he sneezed and
sneezed again.

Then the little wren, who was sitting on the
window-sill, when he heard this, said, '* Tweet,
tweet!"

And the Green Huntsman, who was outside,
hearing the wren, let fly his arrow, and it struck
the wolf through the hea.t, and killed him on
the spot.

HIDE AND SEEK.

but
and
out

►u've

t ! "

Now hide the flowers beneath the snow,
And Winter will not find them ;

Their safety nooks he cannot know ;
They left no tracks behind them.

The little brooks keep very still,
Safe in their ice-homes lying ;

Let Winter seek them where he will,
There's no chance for his spying.

*'\

Second Reader.

Gone are the birds ; they're liiding where (

The Winter never searehcH ;
Safe in the bahuy Southern air,

They sing on sunlit perches.

But comes the Spring at last to look

For all her playmates hidden, '-

And one by one — flower, bird, and brook —
Shall from its place be bidden.

Then shall the world be glad and gay.

The birds begin their chorus,
The brooks sing, too, along their way.

And flowers spring up before us !

THE DAISY AND THE LARK.

Now listen ! In the country, close by the road-
side, stood a pleasant house. You must have
seen one like it very often.

In front lay a little garden, inclosed by a fence,
and full of blossoming flowers. Near the hedge,
in the soft green grass, grew a little daisy. The
sun shone as brightly and warmly upon her as
it shone upon the large and beautiful garden
flowers.

The daisy grew from day to day. Every morn-
ing she unfolded her little white rays, and lifted
up a little golden sun in the centre of her

The Daisy and the Lark.

• I

l)lossoni. She never remein])ere(l how little; slie
was. She never thought that she was hidden
down in the grass, while the tall beautiful flowers
grew in the garden. She was too happy to caro
for such things. She lifted her face towards the
warm sun, she looked up to the blue sky, and
she listened to the lark singing high in the air.

One day the little daisy was as jo)rful as if
it were a great holiday, and yet it was only
Monday. The little children were at school.
They sat at their desks learning their lessons.
The daisy, on her tiny stem, was learning from
the warm sun and the soft wind how good
God is.

Then the lark sang his sweet song. It sounded
just as she felt.

" How beautiful, how sweet the song is ! "
said the daisy. "What a happy bird to sing
so sweetly and fly so high I " But she never
dreamed of being sony because she could not
fly nor sing.

The tall garden flowers by the fence were very
proud and conceited. The peonies thought it
very grand to be so large, and puffed themselves
out to be larger than the roses.

*' See how bright my colors are ! " said the
tulips. And they stood bolt upright to be seen

. .H

100

Second Reader.

more plainly. They did not notice the little
daisy.

She said to herself, " How rich and beautiful
they are? No wonder the pretty bird likes
them. I am glad I can live near them."

Just then the lark flew down.

"Tweet, tweet, tweet," he cried, but he did
not go near the peonies and tulips. He hopped
into the grass near the lowly daisy. She
trembled for joy. The little bird sang beside
her: "Oh, what sweet, soft grass, and what a
beautiful little flower, with gold in its heart and
silver on its dress ! "

How happy the little daisy felt ! And the
bird kissed it with his beak, sang to it, and then
flew up into the blue air above.

The daisy looked up at the peonies and the
tulips, but they were quite vexed, and turned
their backs upon her. She did not care, she
was so happy. When the sun was set, she
folded up her leaves and went to sleep. All
night long she dreamed of the warm sun and
the pretty little bird.

The next morning, when she stretched out her
white leaves to the warm air and the light, she
heard the voice of the lark, but his song was
sad.

The Daisy and the Lark.

101

Poor little lark ! He might well be sad : he
had been made a prisoner in a cage that hung by
the open window. He sang of the happy time
when he could fly in the air, joyous and free.

The little daisy wished that she could help
him. What could she do? She forgot all the
beautiful things about her, — ^the warm sunshine,
the soft breeze, and the shining leaves. She
could only think of the poor bird, and wish
that she might help him.

Just then two boys came into the garden.
They came straight to the daisy. One of them
carried a sharp knife in his hand.

" We can cut a nice piece of turf for the lark,
here," he said.

And he cut a square piece of turf around the
daisy, so that the little flower stood in the
centre.

" How bright the daisy looks ! Let us leave
it there."

He carried the piece of turf with the daisy
growing in it, and placed it in the lark's cage.
The poor bird was beating his wings against the
iron bars of his cage, and the daisy wished that
she could speak to him.

"There is no water here," said the captive
lark. "All have gone, arid forgotten to give

102

Skcmwi) Reader.

■ 1'

me a drop of water to drink. My throat is hot
and dry. I feel as if I were burning."

And he thrust his beak into the cool turf to
refresh himself a little with the ^-een grass.
Within it was the daisy. lie nodded to her,
and kissed her with his beak.

" Poor little flower ! Have you come here,
too?"

" How I wish I could comfort him," said the
daisy. And she tried to fill the air with
perfume.

The poor bird lay faint and weak on the floor
of the cage. His heart was broken. The daisy
drooped, sick and sorrowful, towards the earth.

In the morning the boys came, and when they
found the bird was dead, they wept many bitter
tears. They dug a little grave for him, and
covered it with flowers.

** Ah, if we had only cared for him before ! "
they said.

The daisy had given her little life to make the
captive Ijird glad.

THE FROST.

The frost looked forth one still, clear night,
And whispered, " Now I shall be out of sight ;
So through the valley and over thQ height,
III silence I'll make my way ;

TlIK FkAST ok rilKHIlIKS.

10.1

Tlien Ik; llcvv to tli(3 iiiouiituin, hikI powilrrol itM
crt'st ;

Ho lit on tho trocH, and tlioir 1m)u<:;1im Im «In'Mt

In diamond beads ; and lio did Iuh luiHt

To make all the world look ^ay.

He went to the windows of those wlio slept,
And over each pane like a fairy crept ;
Wherever he breathed, wherever he steppi'd,
By the light of the morn were seen

Most beautiful things; there were flowers and trees;

There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees;

There were cities with temples and towers ; and
these

All pictured in silver sheen !

THE FEAST OF CHERRIES.

Three hundred years ago, says an ohl wn'tcM*,
cdierries were very scarce in Germany. A Hti'ango
disease came upon the fruit-trees, and the gr(;at(U'
number of them died. But a rich merchant of
Hamburg, named Wolff, who had a large garden
in the middle of the city, had managed to keep
his cherry trees free from this disease.

He had in his garden all the best kinds of ti'Cics
then known, and he was able to sell his fruit for
any price he liked to ask. His cherries were

104

Second Kkadkr.

worth almost thoir weight in gold, and ho sooh
.made a fortune out of them.

One spring-time, when his favorite trees wen*
in full blossom, and gave good promise of a fine
crop of fruit, a great war broke out. The Ger-
man armies were defeated, and Hamburg was
besieged. The leader of the enemy vowed that,
as soon as he had taken the city, every man,
woman, and child in it should be put to death.

While the people fought bravely against the
enemy without the walls, a more terrible enemy
appeared within; for food began to get scarce.
In a few days more, the citizens must open their
gates to their conquerors, or die of hunger.

But while those within the walls suffered from
hunger, those encamped without wore dying of
thirst. The summer was very hot, and every
spring and brook near their camp was dried up.
The soldiers suffered much from want of water,
while they had to endure the heat and smoke of
battle, and often the pain of wounds.

Wolff, the merchant, returned slowly to his
house one morning. Along with the other mer-
chants of the city, he had been helping to defend
the walls against the enemy; and so constant
was the fighting, that for a whole week he had
worn his armor day and night. And now he
thought bitterly that all this fighting was useless.

j I

Feast ov Cueuuibs.

The Feast of Chekhies.

107

for on the morrow want of food would force tlieni
to open the gates.

As he passed through his garden, he noticed
that his cherry trees were covered with ripe fruit,
so large and juicy that the very sight of it was
refreshing. At that moment a thought struck
him. He knew how much the enemy were suf-
fering from thirst. What would they not give
for the fruit that hung unheeded on the trees of
his orchard? Might he not by means of his
cherries secure safety for his city ?

Without a moment's delay he put his plan into
practice, for he knew there was no time to lose if
the city was to be saved. He gathered together
three hundred of the children of the city, all
dressed in white, and loaded them with fruit
from his orchard. Then the gates were thrown
open, and they set out on their strange errand.

When the leader of the enemy saw the gates
of the city open, and the band of little white-
robed children marching out, many of them
nearly hidden by the leafy branches which they
carried, he at first thought that it was some trick
by which the townspeople were trying to deceive
him, while preparing for an attack on his camp.
As the children came nearer, he remembered his
cruel vow, and was on the point of giving orders
that they should all be put to death.

A !^»S'I

108

Second Reader.

Hill

But when he saw the little ones close at hand,
so pale and thin from want of food, he thought of
his own children at- home, and he could hardly
keep back his tears. Then, as his thirsty,
wounded soldiers tasted the cool, refreshing
fruit which the children had brought them, a
cheer went up from the camp, and the general
knew that he was conquered, not by force of
arms, but by the power of kindness and pity.

When the children returned, the general sent
along with them waggons laden with food for
the starving people of the city; and next day
he signed a treaty of peace with those whom he
had vowed to destroy.

For many years afterwards, as the day came
round on which this event took place, it was
kept as a holiday, and called "The Feast of
Cherries." Large numbers of children in white
robes marched through the streets, each one
bearing a branch with bunches of cherries on
it. But the old writer who tells the story is
careful to say, that on these occasions the chil-
dren kept the cherries for themselves.

The Miller of the Dee.

109

THE MILLER OF THE DEE.

There dwelt a miller hale and bold

Beside the river Dee ;
He worked and sang from morn to night,

No lark more blithe than he ;
And this the burden of his song

Forever used to be :
" I envy nobody ; no, not I,

And nobody envies me ! "

" Thou 'rt wrong, my friend," said old King Hal,

" As wrong as wrong can be ;
For could my heart be light as thine,

I'd gladly change with thee.
And tell me now, what makes thee sing,

With voice so loud and free.
While I am sad, though I'm the king,

Beside the river Dee."

The miller smiled, and doffed his cap.

" I can errn my bread," quoth he;
" I love my wife, I love my friend,

I love my children three ;
I owe no penny I cannot pay,

I thank the river Dee
That turns the mill that grinds the corn.

To feed my babes and me."

110

Second ReadeIi.

"Good friend," Huid Hal, and Higlied tlie while,

" Farewell ! and happy be ;
But say no more, if thou 'dst be true.

That no one envies thee.
Thy mealy cap is worth my crown,

Thy mill my kingdom's fee ;
Such men as thou are England's boast,

O miller of the Dee!"

THE SOWER AND THE SEED.

The same day went Jesus out of the house,
and sat by the seaside. And great multitudes
were gathered together unto him, so that he
went into a ship, and sat ; and the whole
multitude stood on the shore. And he spake
many things unto them in parables, saying.
Behold, a sower went forth to sow, and when
he sowed, some seeds fell by the wayside, and
the fowls came and devoured them up. Some
fell upon stony places, where they had not much
earth; and forthwith they sprung up, because
they had no deepness of earth; and when the
sun was up, they were scorched ; and because
they had no root, they withered away. And
some fell among thorns : and the thorns sprung
up and choked them. But other fell into
good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an
hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.
Who hath ears to hear, let him hear.

The Quest.

Ill

THE QUEST.

There once wa-s a restless boy

Who dwelt in a lionie by the sea,
Where the water danced for joy
And the wind was ghid and free :
But he said, " Good mother, oli ! let nie go ;
For the dullest place in the world, I know,
Is this I'Hle brown house,
This old brown house.
Under the apple tree.

" I will travel east and west ;

The loveliest homes I'll see ;
And when I have found the best.
Dear mother, I'll come for thee. .
I'll come for thee in a year and a day.
And joyfully then we'll haste away
From this little brow^n house,
Tliis old brown house,
Under the apple tree."

So he travelled here and there,

But never content w^as he.
Though he saw in lands most fair
The costliest homes there be.
He something missed from the sea or sky,
Till he turned a^ain with a wistful si oh
To the little brown house,
The old brown house.

Under the apple tree.

'•V

112

Second Reader.

Then the mother Haw and smiled,

While her heart grew glad and free.
" Hast thou chosen a home, my child ?
Ah, where shall we dwell ? " quoth she.
And he said, " Sweet mother, from east to west,
The loveliest home, and the dearest and best.
Is a little brown house.
An old brown house,
Under an apple tree."

THE GOOD SAMARITAN.

And Jesus answering said, A certain man
went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell
among thieves, which stripped him of his rai-
ment, and wounded Aim, and departed, leaving
him half dead.

And by chance there came down a certain
priest that way : and when he saw him, he
passed by on the other side.

And likewise a Levite, when he was at the
place, came and looked on him, and passed by on
the other side.

But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed,
came where he was : and when he saw him, he
had compassion on him.

And went to him, and bound up his woimds,
pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own

A Boy's Song.

113

l)east, and brouglit liini to an inn, and took care
of liini.

And on the morrow, when he departed, lie
took out two pence, and gave thrni to the host,
and said unto him. Take care of him : and what-
soever tliou spendest more, when I come again,
I will repay thee.

Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was
neighbor unto him that fell among the thieves 'i

And he said, He that showed mercy on him.
Then said Jesus unto him. Go, and do thou
likewise.

A BOY'S SONG.

Where tlie pools are bright and deep,
Where the gray trout lies aslei^p,
l^p tlie river and o'er the lea —
That's the way foi* Billy and me.

Where the blackbird sings the latest,
Wliere the hawthorn blooms the sweetest.
Where the nestlings cliirp and flee —
That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the mowers mow the cleanest,
Where the hay lies thickest, greenest,
There to trace the homeward bee —
'^riuit's the way for Billy and me.
9

•ii it

i.'S:

114

Second Reader.

Where the hazel bank is steepest,
Where the shadow falls the deepest,
Where the clustering nuts fall free —
That's the way for Billy and me.

There let us walk, there let us play,
Through the meadow, among the hay,
Up the water and over the lea —
That's the way for Billy and me.

ALL THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL.

All things bright and beautiful.
All creatures great and small.

All things wise and wonderful —
The Lord God made them all.

Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings —

He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings.

The purple-headed mountain,

The river running by.
The morning, and the sunset

That lighteth up the sky.

The tall trees in the greenwood,
The pleasant summer sun,

'^riie ripe fruits in the garden —
He made them, every one.

How I Turned the Grindstone.

He ^iivo us eyes to see them, '
And lips that we might tell

How ^-eat is GimI Almighty,
Who hath made all things Avell.

115

HOW I TURNED THE GRINDSTONE.

One cold, winter morning, when I was a little
boy, I met on my way to school a smiling man
with an axe on his shoulder.

" My pretty boy," said he, *' has your father a
grindstone?"

*' Yes, sir," said I.

" You. are a fine little fellow," said the man :
" will you let me grind my axe on it ? "

It pleased me very much to be called a fine
little fellow ; so I said, " O, yes, sir : it is down
in the shop."

** And will you, my little man," said he, patting
me on the head, " get a little hot water ? "

Now, how could I refuse? He was such a
smiling, pleasant man ! As fast as I could I
ran into the house, and brought him a whole
kettleful.

" How old are you ? " and " What's your
name?" he asked. But before I could answer

116

Second Readek.

he went on, **Yoii are one of the finest bids T
ever saw : will you just turn a few minutes for
me?" ■' -'^ '-■' '"'■

Tickled with liis jn-aise, like a little fool, I
went to work. It was a new axe ; and I toiled
' and tugged and turned till I was tired enough
to drop.

The school bell rang, but I could not get
away ; it rang again, and there I was still, turn-
ing away at the grindstone. My hands were
blistered, and my shoulders ached.

At last the axe was ground. What a sharp,
keen edge it had ! I remember how it shone in
the winter sun.

Then I looked up, expecting thanks. But the
man suddenly turned toward me with a frown,
and said, *'You little rascal, you have played
truant ! Be off" now : scud away to school, or
you'll catch it ! "

It was hard enough to turn a heavy grindstone
so long, and on such a cold day; but to be called
a ** little rascal " for doing it was too much.
These harsh words sank deep into my boyish
mind, and often have I thought of them since.

Boys and girls, whenever you meet a flatterer,
beware of him. You may be pretty sure that he
has *'an axe to grind," and wants you to turn the
grindstone.

How THE Leaves Came Down.

117

HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWN.

"I'll tell you how the leuvoH camo down,"
The great tree to his ehildn'ii Hftid,

"You're gettmg sleepy, yi^llow and brown —
Yes, very sleepy, little red,
It is quite time you went to bed."

" Ah ! " begged each silly pouting U»af ,

" Let us a little longer stay.
Dear father tree ; behold our grit^f !

'Tis such a very pleasant day,

We do not want to go away."

So just for one more merry day
To the great tree the leaflets clung,

Frolicked and danced and had tluur way.
Upon the autumn breezes swung,
Whispering all their sports among.

" Perhaps the great tree will forget,
And let us stay until the spring,

If we all beg, and coax and fret."
But the great tree did no sueli thing,
He smiled to hear their whispering.

"Come, children, all to bed!" he cried.

And ere the leaves could urge their pi-ayer

He shook his head, and far and wide,
Fluttering and rustling every wlu^re,
Down sped the leaflets through the air.

■I

118 Second Header.

I saw tlufiii on the ^n'ound, ihvy lay
Red and golden, a luiddh'd Hwann,

Waiting till one from far away

With bed-clothes heaped upon his arm,

Should come and wrap them soft and warii».

The great bare tree looked down and smiled ;

" Good-night ! dear little ones," he said,

And from below each sleepy child

Replied, " Good-night," and munnured

" It is so nice to go to bed."

— Susan B, Coolidge (by permission of the ptihlishcrs).

THE HERO OF HAARLEM.

Far across the sea lies a country called
Holland. If you visit that country some day,
you will observe many strange things you will
never see at home. Strangest of all will be the
great dikes, or sea-walls, which keep the waters
of the ocean from pouring over the land and
drowning all the people. For Holland is a low
country, and nothing but the strong dikes could
keep the waves of the sea away from the doors
of the people. You may imagine, tlu^n, how
carefully these dikes are guarded.

One day long years ago, a little boy was
playing in the garden, when his mother called
him to run an errand. *' I have here," she said,

I /

M
pi

TlIK HkUO ok HAAUi.KM.

119

" Homo (^aki's for tlio oM bliiul man wiio Hvth
beyond tho dike. Hrinj;" them to him, and come
back in time for supper."

Gladly the little fellow departed on his errand.
He delivered the cakes, rested a few minutes,
and then taking up tho empty basket set out for
home. But the way was long, and it grew dark
before he had reached the end of his walk.

But, hark ! In the silence of the evening, as
ho was passing tho very highest part of the dike,
his ear caught tho sound of running water. If
we had been walking there we should have given
little heed to such a sound ; but the little Dutch
l)oy knew what it meant. He knew that the sea
was making its way through the dike. Before
morning — even before he could get men to help
— the water would be pouring in over the land.

What was he to do ? Quick as a flash he ran
to the spot from which the water flowed, and
thrust his hand into the hole in the dike.

Then he called for help, but no one came.
He called again, and listened, but still no
answer. Again he shouted and waited, but
there was no sound to break the silence. His
voice grew fainter and fainter, and at last would
not sound above a whisper. His hand became
cold as ice, and the pain extended into his arm,
and then into his whole body. Still he did not

120

Second Reaoek.

movo from liis post ; for lio saw that tlio water
had ceased to flow. IJis little, half-frozen hand
was holding back the great sea.

All night long he sat and waited ; he had
no longer any power to call for help. In the
morning they found him, with his hand still in
the hole in the dike — but almost dead from cold
and fatigue.

Is it any wonder that the people of Holland
tell over and over again to their children th(^
story of the little l)oy-lier() of the dike ?

THE MAPLE.

On the topmost twig of a maple tree there
grew a seed. In the springtime the gentle
movement of the sap and the soft ru^l^le of the
leaves whispering among themselves had awak-
ened him ; then, day by day, half sleeping and
half conscious, he had fed upon what the roots
provided, stretching himself lazily in the sun-
shine. Presently his wing began to unfold

" That is very curious," said he, stirring a little.
'' It must be a mistake. I don't flutter about
like the bees." That bit of wing, which seemed
his, and not his, puzzled him. *' It must belong
to something else," he thought. And afterward

The Maple.

121

h(3 was always on tlio lookout for a l)eo or a
(Iragc^n fly Avitli only ono wing, l^ut none came.

The hot summer noons and the long moonlit
nights became sultrier, and the leaves drooped.
" How withered I am ! " said the seed to his
most intimate friend, a leaf that hung from a
near bough. " It makes me feel quite brittle."
But the leaf did not answer, for just then it fell
from the twig with a queer, reluctant shiver to
the ground.

'' Ah ! " murmured the maple seed, *' I under-
stand." So he was not surprised when a rude
breeze twisted him oflf one day, and sent him
spinning into space.

" Here I go," thought he, " and this is the end
of it."

"Puff*!" said the breeze, who had seen much
of the world, and looked with contempt upon
the untravelled. ''Puff*! how ignorant ! " and he
blew the seed right into a crack in the earth.

" It must be the end, for all that," insisted the
seed. No wonder he thought so, for it was cold
and dark where he lay. A troubled cloud leaned
down and wept over him. Then he began to
grow amazingly in the warmth and moisture.

" If this goes on," he thought, " I shall
certainly burst, and then I must die. How is
one to live, with a crack in his sides ? "

122

Second Reader,

6.* I'. ■ '■■

ll:

But the maple seed was wrong. He did not
die. An unsuspected, mysterious strength sus-
tained him. His roots found food in the brown
earth, and he Hfted up a slender stem into the
pure sunlight and warm air. Through spring,
summer, autumn, and winter, year after year,
this lived and grew, until the tiny sapling had
become a beautiful tree, with spreading branches.

** Ah ! " said the tree, " how stupid I was ! "

It was very pleasant on the lawn. An old
couple from the house near by came out in good
weather to sit under the tree. They reminded
him of some fragile leaves he had seen fluttering
somewhere in the past. He was glad to have
them come, and he kept his coolest shade for
them. Partly for their sakes, he liked to have
the robins sing in his branches.

The years went by. The old man tottered out
alone to sit in the cool shadow. He was bent
and sorrowful.

'* Ah," sighed the tree, " I know ! I know !
He has lost his leaf, and feels brittle. If I could
only tell him this is not the end ! "

After this, many sunny days came, but not
the old man, and the tree concluded that he
had been blown away. " If he only knew that
he would

grow

again ! " he said to himself.

The Bear and the Bees.

123

" Unless one knows that, it is so uncomfortable
to lie in the dark."

A great storm came. The sky blackened, the
winds blew with might, and the heavy rain fell.
The maple was uprooted and broken. The next
day there came men with axes, who cut the tree
in pieces, and drew it to the house.

" Is this the end ? " he questioned. But no, —
the logs were piled one day in the fireplace in a
large, sunny room. The old man leaned from
his chair to warm his hands by the cheerful heat
the crimson flame gave out. " Is it the maple ? "
he said. " Ah I this goes with the rest."

The fire grew brighter, burned duller, turned
to embers, smouldered to ashes. The hearth
was cold. The figure was sitting still in the
arm-chair, but the old man himself had blown
away.

The spirit of the maple tree whispered, " Does
he know ? There is 7io end ! "

A J

THE BEAR AND THE BEES.

Some bears, going out for a walk one day,

Discovered in one of the trees
A hive full of honey, which smelt very fine.
So they stopped to make friends with the bees.
The old bear bowed low and said, " Brum, Brum ; "
And the lady -bee answered, " Hum, Hum, Hum."

124

Second kEADEn.

"Madam Boo," said tlie bear to the i'air little; queen,

" Youi-Helf I am happy to meet !
I h(jpe you'll invite me to share in your feast,
I'm exceedingly fond of what's sweet ! "
And he tried to smile with his " Brum, Brum, Brum ; "
But the bees all frowned with their " Hum, Hum, Hum."

Then the queen bee haughtily raised her head.

As she sat on her leafy throne.
And said, " Mr. Bear, as you very well know.
We bees prefer dining alone ! "
Then the bear looked cross, and grunted, "Brum, Brum;"
But the bees all smiled, and applauded, " Hum, Hum."

" Heigh-ho ! Mrs. Bee," said the angry bear,

" You will please to bear this in mind,
There is nothing to hinder my taking it all,
Since you do not choose to be kind ! "
And he stalked about with a loud " Brum, Brum ; "
But the bees only laughed a low " Hum, Hum."

Then the bear began to climb up the tree ;

But the queen, in her .firmest tone.
Called out, " Mr. Bear, I must warn you now,
You had better let us alone —
We are all fully armed ;" but the bear sneered, " Brum!"
And the bees all savagely buzzed, " Hum, Hum ! "

The soldier-bees drew out their sharp keen knives ;

While the little bees giggled with glee,
" Oh, what a sore nose you will have, Mr. Bear, v^

When you scramble dow^n out of this tree ! "

But the bear glared in rage while he growled, "Brum,
Brum,"

And the sturdy young bees piped a saucy " Hum, Hum."

The Adventure in the W(k)ds.

126

Nearer lie crept to the coveted prize ; -

But that prize he was never to gain,

For the knives pierced his nose, and liis ears, and liis

eyes,

Till he howled with the smart and the pain :

Down he went to the ground with a sad " Brum, Brum,"

While the bees in their triumph sang, " Hum, Hum,
Hum ! "

" Now then, Mr. Bear," said the sage little (jueen,

" If you would be healthy and wise,
You must learn not to think quite so nnich ol" yourself.
And all others you must not despise ! "
And the bear marched otf with a sullen " Brum, Brum,"
While the busy bees buzzed with a pleasant " Hum, Hum."

THE ADVENTURE IN THE WOODS.

It had been raining very heavily. The fir-
trees shook their heads. "We should never
have thought it would be like this," they said.
The drops fell from the trees on the bushes,
from the bushes on the ferns, and then ran awav
in countless little streams among the I'ocks and
mosses.

The rain had begun in the afternoon, and it
was already dark. The green frog, who had
been taking another look at the weather before
going to bed, said to his neigh])()r: ''It will
not stop l)efore to-morrow." The ant, who had

126

Second Reader.

gone for a walk in the woods, was of the same
opinion. She sighed and complained at each
step she took. **My dress is all spoiled," she
said, **and my hat, too. If I had only an
umbrella or overshoes, it would not be so bad ;
but it is so unpleasant to be out in this cold
rain without any protection ! "

As she was talking to herself in this way, she
saw right in front of her a large nuishroom.
" This is splendid," she cried out. " It is just
as fine a shelter as one could wish. I can stay
here till it stops raining. And it does not
appear that any one lives here. So much the
better! Surely I am in luck."

She was just in the act of settling herself for
the night when she heard a slight noise, and
looking up she saw a little cricket standing at
the door. On his back he carried his little
violin. "If you please, Mrs. Ant," said the
cricket, ** may I come in ? " " Come right in,"
ans weired the ant. "I am very glad to have
good company on such a night as this. Just
hang up your violin, and take a seat." "Thank
you very much, Mrs. Ant. I am really very
tired. I was playing all day at the fair in the
forest, and now I have been caught in this
terrible storm. You are very kind, indeed, to
let me come in,"

The Adventure in the Woods.

127

The two had not been sitting there very long
when they saw a tiny light shining in the dis-
tance. As it came nearer they perceived that
it was from a lantern which a glow-worm carried
in his hand. '* Good evening ! " he began.
" Might I stay here over night ? I was on my
way to see my cousin down at the l)rook, but I
lost my way, and really I do not know where
I am." " Come right in," said the other two.
" It will be splendid to have a light on such
a night as this." The glow-worm placed his
lantern on the table, and seated himself on
the driest leaf he could find.

Soon they heard somebody stumbling towards
them over the leaves and the moss. It was a
big black beetle. ** Well 1 well 1 " he began, in
his coarse voice. **I am right, after all. This
is the inn. I am glad to have reached it."
Then he pulled out his satchel, and began to
devour his supper, nmttering t > himself, —
"When a fellow has been out all day, boring
through wood, he gets an appetite." Then he
borrowed a light from the glow-worm, lit his
pipe, and began to smoke quite comfortably.

It grew darker than ever, and the weather
seemed worse. Then, to the astonishment of
all, a new miest walked in. It was a snail, w^ith

her house on her back.

That's what I call

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128

Second Reader.

running ! " she began. '' Really, I am out of
breath, and I have a stitch in my side. I was
going down to the next village, but you know
one cannot do more than she is able, especially
when she carries her house with her. If the
company does not object, I shall stay here over
night, and run the balance of my journey in
the morning."

As no one objected, the snail stretched herself
on the floor, pulled out her knitting needles and
began to knit.

The five were thus comfortably situated when
the ant opened up a conversation, by suggest-
ing that they should have some fun. " I see
that Mr. Cricket has his violin with him. If he
is not too tired, perhaps he would play us a
piece ; then we could have a dance. It would
keep us warm, and the time would not grow so
heavy on our hands." Everybody agreed to this
proposal. So the cricket placed himself in the
middle, and played the merriest tune he knew
by heart, while the others danced around him.
The snail, to be sure, did not dance very much.
"You know," she said, *'it makes me dizzy
when I whirl around so fast, and really I prefer
to k)ok on."

Now the mushroom under which the little
people were dancing, belonged to an old toad.

The AnvKNTUHK ix thk Woods.

120

■ -1

In fine woafclior sho nsofl to sit on the roof, Imt
when bad weatlier came slio crept nnder the
mushroom, and then it might rain from Easter
to Christmas for all she cared. This toad had
gone in the afternoon to visit her cousin, the
water-snake, and they had so nuich to talk about
that it grew quite dark before she set out for
home. As she neared the mushrocmi she heard
the noise of the dancers, and slipping in quietly,
she was in their midst before they were aware of
her presence.

This was an unexpected disturbance. The
beetle fell on his back with fright, and it was
five minutes before he could get on his legs
again. The little glow-worm thought, but too
late, that he should have put out his lantern.
The cricket dropped his violin in the middle of
a measure. The poor little ant went into one
fainting fit after another. The snail, who is not
easily excited, had palpitation of the heart. But
she knew what to do. She crept into her little
house, locked the door and said to herself, '' Let
come what will ! I am not at home to any one !"

How the toad did scold the poor little people !
** Do you think my house is a shelter for tramps
and travelling musicians ? A person cannot leave
home for a few minutes, liut some one is sure to

^^.

130

Seconh Kkader.

l)reak in. Vavk up your tbinjijH and j»() I iS'ovor
let nio Hee you around liero again I (iot oft*! "

Tliere was nothing to l)e done but to set out in
the*rain. So they gathered up their l)elongings
and away they went.

Wliat a sorrowful procession ! The glow-
worm took the lead to light the way, then
came the beetle, then the ant, then the cricket,
and last of all the snail. The beetle, who had
good lungs, kept shouting from time to time,
" Is there any tavern here ? " But all his cries
were in Vain. After wandering around for a
long time they found a tolerably dry place
under the root of a tree. There they spent the
remainder of the night very uncomfortably, ainl
without much sleep.

And though they got off with their lives, it
was a very narrow escape. Those who were in
the adventure will remember it as long as they
live.

THE VOICE OF THE GRASS.

Here I come creeping, creeping every wliere ;

By the dusty roadside,

On tlie sunny hillside,

Close to tlie noisy brook,

In every shady nook,
I come creeping, creeping everywhere.

1^: .■

The Voice of the Oh asm.

they

Hore 1 coiiio creeping, creeping PVfrywlH'fM ;

All round the open (l<x)r

Wlu're Hit the aginl poor ;

Here, where the chilth'en play

In the brij^]it and merry May,
I come creeping, creeping every when*.

Here T come creeping, creeping everywhere ;

In the noisy city street

My pleasant face you'll meet,

Cheering the sick at heari,

Toiling liis busy part ;
Silently creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping exeiywhero ;

You can not see me coming,

Nor hear my low, sweet Imnnning;

For in the starry night.

And the glad morning light,
I come quietly, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywh<»re ;

More welcome than the flowers

In sunnner's pleasant hours ;

The gentle cow is glad,

And the merry bird not sad
To see me creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywlu^re;
When you're numbered with the d(»ad
In your still and narrow bed,
In the happy spring I'll come
And deck your silent home,

Creeping, silently creeping, everywhere.

1.32

SiK.'oxi) Ukaih:u.

M«;ro r eoiiio oroepiiijj, cn^'piiij,' <»v<«ry wlicro ;

My humble hoii^ oI' pniiH*!

Most joyfully I ruiHii

To Him at who.se commiiiid

I beautify the land ;
Creeping, silently cr«M»pin^, cvoryvvluTe.

THE PRINCE'S LESSON.

■ w

:1b i;
■'? 'i'

There was once a little English prince named
Henry. His father tried to make him happy by
giving him many toys, and a pony and a boat.

But the prince was not happy. He thought
only of himself, and he kept wishing for tilings
he had not, instead of trying to use properly
those he had.

A wise man named Sir Arthur visited the king
one day, and seeing how unhappy Prince Henry
was, by the frown on his face, said to his father :
" I can make your boy smile instead of frown if
you let him visit me for a few months."

" If you can," said the king, ** I will give you
anything you ask."

Prince Henry went home with Sir Arthur that
day. When they reached Sir Arthur's castle, he
said : ** I have a flower bed that talks."

"What does it say? How does it talk?"
asked the prince in surprise.

Tjik Bkown Tiiiirsn.

i:w

*' It 1ms a secret which it tells to those who
watch it every day," said Sir Arthur.

"Where is it?" said Prince Henry.

** Right before you," Sir Arthur replied.

The prince could see only a bed that had Just
been finished, in which nothing was yet growing.

" Come every day, and when it is ready it will
tell you its secret," said Sir Arthur.

The prince came every day and watched and
waited for the secret, and at last one day he saw
a great many little plants peeping up through the
ground. They grew so as to form words, and
this is the secret they told Henry, " Do a kind-
ness to some one every day."

The prince did what the flower bed had told
him to do, and he soon learned to smile instead
of frown.

THE' BROWN THRUSH.

There's a merry brown thrusli sitting up in the tree
He is singing to you ! he is singing to nie !
And what does he say, little girl, little boy ?
" Oh, the world's running over with joy !

Don't you hear ? don't you see ?

Hush ! look here ! in my tree

I am as happy as happy can be."

184

Second Reader.

And the brown thrush keeps singing " A nest, do you see,

And five eggs hid by nie in the big cherry tree ?

Don't meddle, don't touch, little girl, little boy,

Or the world will lose some of its joy !
Now I'm glad ! now I'm free !

And I always shall be, ^ '\ ■

If you never bring any sorrow to me."

So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree.
To you and to me — to you and to me ;
And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy—
" Oh, the world's running over with joy !

But long it won't be.

Don't you know ? don't you see ?

Unless we're as good as can l)e."

HOW A DOG SAVED A CREW.

A heavy gale was blowing, when a vessel was
seen drifting toward the coast of Kent. She
struck on the beach, and the breaking waves
dashed over her in foam.

Eight men were seen holding on to the wreck,
but no ordinary boat could go to their aid in
such a sea ; and in those days there were no life-
boats — at least there were none on that part of
the coast.

How A Dog Saved a Chew.

135

The people on shore feared every nionient that
the poor sailors would be washed off the sliij)
and drowned ; for although the ship was not far
from the land, it was too far for any one to swim
through the foaming breakers.

If a rope could be taken from the wreck to
the shore, the sailors might be saved. How
could this be done ? A gentleman, who was
standing on the beach with a large Newfound-
land dog by his side, thought he saw how it
could be . managed.

He put a short stick in his dog's mouth, and
then pointed to the vessel. The l)rave dog knew
what his master wanted, and, springing into the
sea, he fought his way bravely through the
waves.

When he reached the ship, he tried to climb
up its sides, but in vain. He was seen, however,
by the crew, and they made fast a light rope to
another piece of wood, which they threw toward
him.

The wise animal again seemed to understand
what was meant, and, seizing this piece of wood,
he turned his head towards the shore to carry it
to his master.

This time the wind and waves helped him on
his way ; but he was almost worn out when he
reached the shore, dragging the rope after him.

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136

Second Reader.

'(■ ^

I ■.

A stronger rope was then tied to the first one
by the sailors, and one end of it was pulled on
shore. Along this rope the sailors made their
way one by one to the land, and in this way
every man on board was saved, through the
courage and wisdom of the dog.

By next day the storm was over, and the
sailors were able to row out to their ship and
save a large part of the cargo. A week after-
wards, they got the ship itself off the rocks,
and took it into harbor to be repaired-

Some of you may have seen a rocket. When
it is fired, it sails away up into the sky with a
long train of sparks behind it. It is by large
rockets fired from the shore, with a strong line
fastened to them, that we now get a rope carried
to such a wreck.

ROBERT OF LINCOLN.

Braggart and prince of braggarts is lie,
Pouring boasts from his little throat :
" Bob-o'-link ! Bob-o'-link !
Spink, spank, spink ;
Never was I afraid of man ;
Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can !
Cliee, cliee, chee."

ll(jiJKRT (JF Lincoln.

Six white eggs on a bed of liay,

Flecked with purple — a pretty siglit !
There, as the mother sits all dav,

Robert is singing with all his might ;
" Bob-o'-link ! Bob-o'-link !
Spink, spank, spink ;
Nice good wife, that never goes out,
Keeping house while I frolic about.
Chee, chee, chee."

Soon as the little ones chip the shell,
Six wide mouths are open for food.
RobeH of Lincoln bestirs him well,

Gathering seeds for the hungry brood :
" Bob-o'-link ! Bob-o'-link !
Spink, spank, spink ;
This new life is likely to be
Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
Chee, chee, chee."

Robert of Lincoln at length is made

Sober with work, and silent with care
Oft' his holiday garment laid.

Half forgotten that merry air : —
" Bob-o'-link ! Bob-o'-link !
Spink, spank, spink ;
Nobody knows but my mate and I
Where our nest and our nestlings lie.
Chee, chee, chee."

137

138

Second Header.

:fil

It ,

Sunmier wanes ; the children are grown ;

Fun and frolic no more he knows ;
Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone ;
Off he flies, and we sing as he goes,
" Bob-o'-link ! Bob-o'-link !
Spink, spank, spink ;
When you can pipe that merry old strain,
Robert of Lincoln, come back again.
Chee, chee, chee."

THE BEATITUDES.

Blessed are the poor in spirit : for theirs is
the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they that mourn : lor they shall
be comforted.

Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit
the earth.

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst
after righteousness : for they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful : for they shall obtain
mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall
see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers : for they shall
be called the children of God.

Blessed are they which are persecuted for
righteousness' sake : for theirs is the kingdom
of heaven.

The King and the Page.

139

THE KING AND THE PAGE.

A celebrated Prussian general was in his youth
a page in the court of Frederick the Great. His
father was dead, and his widowed mother could
barely support herself He was anxious to lieli)
her, but could spare nothing from his meagre pay.

At last, however, he found a means of earning
something for her. Each night one of the ser-
vants had to keep watch in the ante-room of the
king's sleeping apartment, in order to wait upon
him if he desired anything. This was a weari-
some task to many, and they willingly gave over
their watch to others, when it came their turn.
The poor page began to take over these night
watches for others. He was paid, of course, and
the money thus obtained he sent to his mother.

One night the king could not sleep, and wished
to have something read aloud to him. He rang
his bell, he called — but no one came. At last he
arose and went into the ante-room to see if a
servant were there. Here he found the page
seated at a table, sound asleep. Before him lay
a letter to his mother, which he had begun to
write.

The king stepped to the table and read the
beginning of the letter — " My own dear precious

140

Second Reader.

tr*

mother — This is now the third night I have been
watching for money, and I am very tired. But
I am glad that I have earned another dollar,
which I enclose."

Touched by the youth's goodness, the king
permitted him to sleep on. He returned to his
room, took two rolls of ducats, put one in each
of the lad's pockets and then went back to bed.

When the page awoke and found the money in
his pockets, he knew very well who put it there.
In the morning he came before the king and
begged forgiveness for his faulty service. At
the same time he thanked him for the present to
his mother.

The king praised him for his filial love, and
advanced him to a better position. He rose
higher and highe^ in the service, and finally
became one of the best known generals in the
army.

THE CHILDREN'S HOUR.

Between the dark and the daylight,
When tlie night Ih beginning to lower,

Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.

The Children's Hour.

T lu'ar m th« chamber abov<^ mo

The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,

And voices soft and sweet.

141

From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,

Grave Alice and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence :
Yet I know by their merry eyes

They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall !

By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall !

They climb up into my turret

O'er the arms and back of my chair ;

If I try to escape, they surround me ;
They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses.
Their arms about me entwine,

Till I think of the. Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine !

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142 Second IIkadkr.

Do you think, O blno-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,

Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a matcli for you all ?

I hav( ; ^ou fast in my fortress,
And will not let you iepart.

But put you down into the dungeon
In the round- tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forevi-,
Yes, forever and a day,

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin.
And moulder in dust away !

IHJ

FIVE PEAS IN A POD.

t 1 1

There were once five peas in one pod. They
were green, and the pod was green ; so they
thought the whole world was green.

The sun shone and warmed the pod. It was
mild and pleasant in the day-time, and dark at
night, of course.

The peas grew bigger and bigger. They
thought a great deal, wondering what they
should do by and by.

" Must we sit here forever ? " asked one. " I
think there must be something outside of our
shell. I am sure of it."

Five Pkas ix a Pod.

143

Weeks })jisserl ])\. T]w peas })eeaine yellow,
and the shell beeaine yellow, t(»'

''All the world is tiirniiii'" yellow," said thev.

Perhaps they were right.

Suddenly something;' i)ulled the pod. It was
torn off and held in human liands. Then it was
dropped into a jacket pocket, with other pods.

** Now we shall soon be opened," said one.
'' That is just what I want."

" I should like to knovy which one of us will
travel farthest," said the smallest pea. '* We
shall soon see, now."

''What is to happen will happen," said the
largest pea.

" Crack ! " went the pod, as it burst. The
five peas rolled out into the bright sunshine.
There they lay in a child's hand.

A little boy was holding them fast. He said
they were fine peas for his pea shooter. So
saying, he put one in, and shot it forth.

" Now I am flying out into the wide world,"
said the pea. " (.atch me if you can ! " He was
gone in a moment.

" I shall fly straight to the sun," said the
second pea. " That is a pod which will suit me
exactly." Away he went.

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Second Readeii.

1^1 1

** Wo sliall ^o farther than tlio othors/' .said
the next two. And away they went.

** What is to happen will happen," said the last
of the five, as he was shot out of the pea shooter.

As he spoke, he flew up against an old board,
under a garret window. He fell into a crack,
which was almost filled with moss and soft earth.
The moss closed over him. There he lay, a little
captive. But God saw him.

" What is to happen will hai)pen," said the i)oa
to himself. ,

In the garret lived a jjoor woman. She went
out every day to v.^ork for her living. She had
one little daughter, who was very sick. All
winter long the sick child lay in her bed, patient
and quiet. She was alone all day, while her
mother was away at work.

Spring came. One morning, early, the sun
shone brightly through the little window. He
threw his rays over the floor of the sick room.
The mother was going to her work, when the
child cried,—

*' Oh, mother ! look out of the window. What
can that little green thing be ? It is moving in
the wind."

The mother went to the window ctnd opened it.

" Oh I " she said. " Here is a little i)ea grow-

Five Peas in a Pod.

145

ing up. It has really taken root, and is putting
out its green leaves. How could it have found
its way into this crack ? Now you will have a
little garden to amuse you." So saying, tlui
mother drew the bed nearer to the window, that
the sick child might see tiie budding ])lant.
Then she went to her work.

** Mother, I beheve I shall get well," said the
child, when her mother came home in the twen-
ing. **The sun has been so bright and warm
to-day, and the little j)ea is growing so w(^ll,
I think I shall get better, too, and go ont into
the warm sunshine."

** God grant it 1 " said the mother, as she
kissed her child. Then she brought a little
stick to prop the tiny plant which had given her
daughter such hope.

She tied a piece of string to the window sill,
so that the little pea tendrils might twine round
it when they grew up. Indeed, they seemed to
grow from day to day.

** Here is a flower ccmiing ! " said the mother,
one morning. And now she 1)egan to hope that
her little girl would get well. The little girl
raised her head to look at her gai'dtui, with
its one pea plant.

A week after, she sat up foi* the first time, for

a whole hour. She was cpiite happy as she sat
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nil.

146

Second Readeu.

■I

by her window in the warm Hiuishine, whih^
the little pea plant on the roof bore one ])ink
blossom.

The child kisse<l the tender leaviis gently.
This was her Thanksgiving Day.

** Our Heavenly Father himself has planted
that pea, and made it grow and blossom to bring
joy to you and hope to me, my l)lesse(l child,"
said the happy mother. And she smiled at the
flower as if it had been an angel.

. But what became of the other peas ? Why,
the one who cried, ''C/atch me, if you can !" fell
on the roof of a house, and ended his days in
the crop of a pigeon. The next two were also
eaten by pigeons, so they were of some use.

The fourth, who started to reach the sun, fell
into the gutter.

The young girl stood at the garret window,
with bright eyes and rosy cheeks. 81ie folded
her thin hands over the pea blossom, and
thanked God for sending it to her lonely
room.

THE SANDPIPER.

Across the lonely ])each wo flit,

One little sandpiper and I ;
And fast I gather bit by bit,

Th3 scattered driftwood, bleaclied and dry.

Thk Sandpiper.

147

Tli« wild wavcH reach their luiiuls for it,
The wild wind raves, tJie tide niiiH hij^h,

As lip and down tlio beach we flit, —
One little wmdpiper and I.

Above our heads the sullen clouds

Scud black and swift across the sky ;
Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds

Stand out the white lighthouses high.
Almost as far as eye can reach

I see the close-reefed vessels fly.
As fast we flit along tlui beach, —

One little sandpiper and I.

I watch liiiii as he skims along

Uttering liis swe.et and mournful cry ;
He starts not at my fitful song,

No:c flash of fluttering drapery.
He has no thought of any wrong ;

He scans me with a fearless eye ;
Staunch friends are we, well tried and strong,

The little sandpiper and I.

Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night

When the loosed storm breaks furiously ?
My driftwood fire will burn so bright !

To what warm shelter canst thou fly ?
I do not fear for thee, though wroth

The tempest rushes through the sky ;
For are we not God's children both,

Thou, little sandpiper, and I ?

r—Celia Thaxter (hy permisHion of the puhlisherf}^.

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148

Second Header.

THE STARS IN THE SKY.

i '

Once on a time and twice on a time, and all
times together p.s ever I heard tell of, there was
a tiny lassie who would weep all day to have the
stars in the sky to play with ; she wouldn't have
this, and she wouldn't have that, but it was
alwavs the stars she would have. So one fine
day off she went to find them. And she w^alked
and she walked and she walked, till by-and-by
she came to a mill-dam.

" Gooden to you," says she ; " I'm seeking the
stars in the sky to play with. Have you seen
any?"

" Oh, yes, my bonnie lassie," said the mill-dam.
"They shine in my own face o' nights till I
can't sleep for them. Jump in and perhaps
you'll find one."

So she jumped in, and swam about and swam
about and swam about, but ne'er a one could she
see. So she w ent on till she came to a brooklet.

** Gooden to you, Brooklet, Brooklet," says
she ; " I'm seeking the stars in the sky to play
with. Have you seen any ? "

"Yes, indeed, my l)()nnie lassie," said the
Brooklet. "They glint on my banks at night.
Paddle about, and maybe you'll find one."

The Stars ijf the SkV.

149

So she paddled and she paddled and she
paddled, but ne'er a one did she find. So on
she went till she came to the Good Folk.

" Gooden to you, Good Folk," says she ; *' I'm
looking for the stars in the sky to play with.
Have ye seen e'er a one ? "

" Why, yes, my bonnie lassie," said the Good
Folk. ** They shine on the grass here o' night.
Dance with us, and maybe you'll find one.'*

And she danced and she danced and she
danced, but ne'er a one did she see. So down
she sate ; I suppose she wept.

'* Oh dearie me, oh dearie me," says she, " I've
swam and I've paddled and I've danced, and if
ye'U not help me I shall never find the stars in
the sky to play with."

But the Good Folk whispered together, and
one of them came up to her and took her by the
hand and said, " If you won't go home to your
mother, go forward, go forward ; mind you take
the right road. Ask Four Feet to carry you to
No Feet at all, and tell No Feet at all to carry
you to the stairs without steps, and if you can
climb that "

" Oh, shall I be among* the stars in the sky
then ? " cried the lassie.

"If you'll not be, then you'll be elsewhere,"
said the Good Folk, and set to dancing again.

160

Second Reader.

¥■1

So on she went again with a light heart, and
by-and-by she came to a saddled horse, tied to a
tree.

" Gooden to you. Beast," said she ; " I'm seek-
ing the stars in the sky to play with. Will you
give me a lift, for all my poor bones are a-aching."

" Nay," said the horse, ** I know nought of the
stars in the sky, and I'm here to do the bidding
of the Good Folk, and not my own will."

" Well," said she, " it's from the Good Folk I
come, and they bade me tell Four Feet to carry
me to No Feet at all."

"That's another story," said he; ''jump up
and ride with me."

So they rode and they rode and they rode, till
they got out of the forest and found themselves
at the edge of the sea. And on the water in
front of them was a wide glistening path running
straight out towards a beautiful thing that rose
out of the water and went up into the sky, and
was all the colors in the world, blue and red and
green, and wonderful to look at.

" Now get you down," said the horse ; " I've
brought you to the end of the land, and that's as
much as Four Feet c^n do. I must away home
to my own folk."

"But," said the lassie, "where's No Feet at
all, and where's the stairs without steps ? "

The Stars in the Skjt.

151

'' I know not," said the horse, " it's none of
my business either. So gooden to you, bonnie
lassie ; " and off he went.

So the lassie stood still and looked at the
water, till a strange kind of fish came swimming
up to her feet.

" Gooden to you, big Fish," says she ; '' I'm
looking for the stars in the sky, and for the stairs
that climb up to them. Will you show me the
way ? "

" Nay," saM the Fish, " I can't, unless you
bring me w« from the Good Folk."

**Yes, indeed," said she. ''They said Four
Feet would brng me to No Feet at all, and No
Feet at all would carry me to the stairs without
steps."

'' Ah, well," said the Fish ; '' that's all right,
then. Get on my back and hold fast."

And off he went — Kerplash ! — into- the water,
along the silver path, towards the bright arch.
And the nearer they came the brighter the sheen
of it, till she had to shade her eyes from the
light of it.

And as they came to the foot of it, she saw it
was a broad bright road, sloping up and awsiy
into the sky, and at the far, far end of it she
could see wee shining things dancing about.

*•(,

162

Second Reader.

" Now," said the Fish, '' here you arc, and yon's
the stair : climb up, if you can, but hold on fast.
I'll warrant you'll find the stairs easier at home
than by such a way ; 'twas ne'er meant for lassies'
feet to travel ; " and off he splashed through the
water.

So she clomb and she clomb and she clomb,
but ne'er a step higher did she get : the light was
before her and around her and the water behind
her, and the more she struggled the more she
was forced down into the dark and the cold, and
the more she clomb the deeper she fell.

But she clomb and she clomb, till she got
dizzy in the light and shivered with the cold,
and dazed with the fear; but still she clomb,
till at last, quite dazed and silly-like, she let
clean go, and sank down — down — down.

And bang she came on to the hard boards,
and found herself sitting, weeping and wailing,
by the bedside at home all alone.

— More English Fairy Tales— Jacobs (hy permission of the publishers).

THE BROOK AND THE WAVE.

!l.:i

The brooklet came from the mountain,

As sang the bard of old,
Running with feet of silver

Over the sands of gold !

ome
es'
the

The Dandelion*. 163

Par awfiy in tlio l)i-iny ocean

There rollecl a tui'])iil(nit wave,
Now sint^injij aloiio; tlie sea-beacli,

Now liowlinif alonji' tluj eave,

•

And the brooklet liaw found the billow,

Thoutjh they flowed so far apart,
And has filled with its freslnienH and sweetness

That turbulent, bitter heart !

THE DANDELION.

(iay little dandelion

Lights up the niea<ls.
Swings on lier slender foot,

Telleth her beads,
Lists to the robin's note

Poured from above ;
Wise little dandelion

Asks not for love.

Cold lie the daisy banks

Clothed but in green,
Where, in the days a-gone.

Bright hues were seen.
Wild pinks are slumbering,

Violets delay ;
True little dandelion

Greeteth the Ma}^

154

\'f'

Second Header.

Brave little dandelion !

Fast falls the snow,
Bending the daffodil's

Haughty head low.
Under that fleecy tent,

Careless of cold,
Blithe little dandelion

Counteth her gold.

Meek little dandelion

Groweth more fair,
Till dies the amber dew

Out from her hair.
High rides the thirsty sun.

Fiercely and high ;
Faint little dandelion

Closeth her eye.

Pale little dandelion,

In her white shroud,
Heareth the angel breeze

Call from the cloud !
Tiny plumes fluttering

Make no delay ;
Little winged dandelion

Soareth away.

t^ !

Damon and Pythias.

155

DAMON AND PYTHIAS.

A young man named Pythias had done some-
thing to offend Dionysius the tyrant. For this
offence he was cast into prison and condemned
to die.

His home was far away, and he wished very
much to see his father and mother and his
friends before he died. So he determined to
ask Dionysius to grant him permission to visit
his home. "Let me say good-bye to those I
love," he said, "and then I will come back amd
give up my life."

But the tyrant only laughed at him. " How
am I to know that you will keep your promise ? "
he asked. "You wish to cheat me, and save
yourself. No ! no ! you must go back to prison
and await your doom."

A young man, brave and handsome, named
Damon, then spoke. "O King! put me into
prison in place of my friend Pythias, and let
him go to his country to put his affairs in order
and bid his friends farewell. He will come back
as he promised, for he was never known to
break his word. But if he is not here on the
day which you have appointed for his death, I
will die in his stead."

sii

•K'.

156

Second Header.

r !

The tyrant was surprised that anybody should
make such an otter, but he at last agi'eed to free
the prisoner and permit Damon to take his place.

Time passed, and the day drew near on which
Pythias was to die. Yet he had not come back,
nor had any message been received from him.
The guards were ordered to keep a closer watch
on Damon, lest he should endeavor to escape.
But this precaution was unnecessary. He had
such faith in the truth and honor of his friend
that he said, ** He is sure to return ; but if he
does not, it will not be his fault. It will be
because he is detained against his will."

At last the fatal day came, and then the very
hour. The jailer came to lead Damon to his
death. Even then he expressed his confidence in
Pythias, saying that something had happened to
prevent his return, and that he was only too
pleased to be able to die for him. His own
life, he said, was no dearer to him than the life
of his friend.

Just as he was setting out from prison, Pythias
rushed in, hot and breathless. He had been de-
layed by storms and shipwreck, and was almost
too late. Throwing himself into Damon's arms,
he wept tears of joy because his friend's life was
spared. Then he gave himself up to the jailer
and asked to be led to his death.

Little Sorrow.

157

Dionysius was not so bad but that he could
see good in others. He felt that lives like those
of ]3amon and Pythias were too noble to be
taken away, and calling them to him he set them
lioth free. " Would that I had in all the world
(me friend like you!" he said. "He would be
more to me than all my wealth."

:li'

LITTLE SORROW.

Among the thistles on the liill,

In tears sat Little Sorrow :
" I see a black cloud in the west ;

'Twill bring a storm tomorrow.
And when it storms, wliere sliall I be ^
And what will keep the rain from me ?

Woe's me ! " said Little Sorrow.

" But now the air is soft and sweet,
The sunshine bright," said Pleasure ;

" Here is my pipe : if you will dance,
I'll wake mv merriest measure :

Or, if you choose, we'll sit beneath

The red rose-tree, and twine a wreath.
Come, come with me," said PI en sure.

158

Secx)Nd Header.

" Oh, I want neither dance nor flowers —
x'hey're not for me," said Sorrow,

" When that bhick cloud is in the west,
And it will storm to-morrow I

And if it storm, what shall I do ?

I have no heart to play with you —
Go ! go ! " said Little Sorrow.

But lo ! when came the morrow's morn,
The clouds were all blown over ;

The lark sprang singing from his nest
Among the dewy clover ;

And Pleasure called : " Come out and dance

To-day you mourn no evil chance ;
The clouds have all blown over ! "

" And if they have, alas ! alas !

Poor comfort that ! " said Sorrow ;
" For if to-day we miss the storm,

'Twill surely come to-morrow,
And be the fiercer for delay ;
•I am too sore at heart to play —

Woe's me ! " said Little Sorrow.

GRACE DARLING.

It was a dark September night. An awful
storm was raging on the sea. The lighthouse-
keeper and his daughter lay awake listening to
the angry beating of the surf upon the rocks,
for on such a night sleep was impossible. For

Grace Daklinq.

160

many years liad they lived a lonely life on their
little island, yet rarely had they known a storm
so severe as this.

As they listened, the quick oar of the younj^
girl caught a new sound. It was the cny of men
in distress, calling for assistance. All night long
the two watchers could hear that cry alM»ve thc^
roaring of the wind and waves, and yet it was so
dark they could see nothing. Neither could they
render any help. But they knew that a boat
was on the rocks, and they pictured to tlunn-
selves the men and women clinging to the ropes
and masts.

When morning came they saw aci'oss the
raging sea, about a mile away, a broken wreck,
with people hanging to the rigging. ** Father,
we must try to save them!" said the brave
young girl. "Let us get out the boat at (nujc."
**No, no, Grace!" was the answer. "Our boat
would not live in such a sea. We could not
readi them. Yet we cannot stay here and see
them perish."

" Quick, then ! " said (Irace, and in a few
minutes they were out on the billows in the
heavy lighthouse boat. Grace pulled one oar
and her father the other, an<l they made straight
for the wreck.

It was hai'd rowing against such a sea, and it
seemed as if they wcnild never reach the place,

160

Second Readkr.

But at last they found theniHolvos at the
broken vessel. Here the danger was greater
thf-!! ever. The waves dashed over the rocks
and threatened every moment to engulf them.
After many trials the father elim})ed upon tlie
wreck, while Grace by her strength and skill
kept the l)oat in place.

One by one the worn out sutterers were
- helped on board, and then the lighthouse-
keeper clambered back into Jiis place. Strong
arms grasped the oars, the boat was turned
towards shore, and soon all were safe in the
lighthouse.

Here Grace took charge oH the shipwrecked
men, nursing them until the storm had passed
away and they were strong enough to leave for
their own homes.

It is many years since this happened, ])ut the
name of Grace Darling will never be forgotten.
If you ever go to England, you may visit a little
churchyard near the sea on the l^^istern coast.
Here is to be found the grave of the l)rave girl
who risked her life to save the lives of others.

Hiawatha's Childhood.

161

HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD.

By tlio shores of Gitcho Ounioo,
By the shining Big-Sea- Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokoniis,
Daughter of tlio Moon, Nokonus.
Dark beliind it rose the forest.
Rose the black and gloomy pine-tre«'s,
Rose the firs with cones upon tlu^ni ;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny watiu*,
Beat the shininL" Biff-Sea- Wati'sr.

There the wrinkled, old Nokomis
Nursed the little Hiawatha,
Rocked him in his linden cradle.
Bedded soft in moss and rushes,
Safely bound with reindeer sinews ;
Stilled his fretful wail by saying :

« Hush ! the Naked Bear will get the«j ! "
Lulled him into slumber, singing,

" Ewa-yea 1 my little owlet !
Who is this, that lights the wigwam ?
With his great eyes lights the wigwam ?
Ewa-yea ! my little owlet ! "

Many things Nokomis taught ]vm
Of the stars that shine in heaven ;
Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet,
Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses ;
Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits,
Warriors with their plumes and war- clubs.

162

Second RExVDEr.

Flaring far away to northward
In tlic frosty nights of Winter ;
Sliowed tlio broad, white road in heaven,
Patliway of the ghosts, the shadows, •
Running straight across the lieavens,
Crowded with the ghosts, tlie shadows.

At the door on snnnner evenino-s
Sat the little Hiawatha,
Heard the whispering of the pine-trees,
Heard the lapping of the water,
Sounds of music, M^ords of wonder;

" Minne-wawa ! " said the pine-trees,
" Mudway-aushka ! " said tlie water.

Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee,
Flitting through the dusk of evening,
With the twinkle of its candle
Ligliting up the brakes and bushes ;
And he sang the song of cliildren.
Sang the song Nokomis taught him :

" Wah-wah-taysee, little fire-fl}-.
Little, flitting, white-fire insect.
Little, dancing, white-fire creature,
Light me with your little candle,
Ere upon my bed I lay me.
Ere in sleep I close my eyelids I "

Saw tlie moon rise from the water
Rippling, rounding from the water.
Saw the flecks and shadows on it.
Whispered, " What is that, Nokomis ? '*
And the good Nokomis answere<l :

Hiawatha's Childhood. 163

" Once a warrior, very an<^ry,
Seized his gi*aiidiiiother, and threw hw
Up into the sky at midnight ;
lliglit against the moon he tlirew her ;
'Tis her body that you see there."

Saw the rainbow in the heaven,
In tlie Eastern sky the rainbow,
Wliispered, " What is that, Nokomis ? "
And tlie good Nokomis answered :

" 'T's the heaven of flowers yoii see tliere ;
All the wild flowers of tlie forest,
All tlie lilies of the prairie,
Wlien on earth they fade and perisli,
Blossom in that heaven above us."

'f\

When he heard the owls at midnight,
Hooting, laughing in the forest,
" What is that ? " he cried in terror ;
" What is that ? " he said, « Nokomis ? "
And the good Nokomis answered :
" That is but the owl and owlet, '
Talking in their native language.
Talking, scolding at each other."

Then the little Hiawatha
Learned of every bird its language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How they built their nests in Summer,
Where they hid themselves in Winter,
Talked M'ith them whene'er he met them,
Called them " Hiawatha's Chickens."

:'i

164 Second Reader.

Of all beasts he learned the language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How the beavers built their lodges,
Where the squirrels hid their acorns,
How the reindeer ran so swiftly.
Why the rabbit was so timid.
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them " Hiawatha's Brothers."

ARNOLD WINKELRIED.

An army was marching into Switzerland. If
it were not driven back the towns would be
burned, the farmers would lose their sheep and
their grain, and the people would be made slaves
to the conquerors.

The men of Switzerland knew their danger,
and they determined to defend their homes and
their hves. So they came from the mountains
and the valleys, and banded themselves together
to resist the invaders. They had no guns or
swords like their enemies but some carried bows
and arrows, some had scythes or pitchforks, and
some had only sticks and heavy clubs.

As the invading army marched along they
kept in line, and stood close together. Nothing
could be seen but their shields and the points of
their spears, or their shining armor.

Arnold Winkelried.

165

The Swiss bowmen shot their arrows, but they
glanced from the shields of the enemy; others
tried stones and clubs but without success. The
line was still unbroken. "We must break their
ranks," said the leader, " or our country will be
lost."

A poor iiictn named Arnold Winkelried then
stepped forth. He had a happy home on the
mountain side, and a wife and family that he
loved very dearly. But he determined to give
his life to save his country. Calling upon his
comrades to follow him, he rushed into the very
centre of the lines. A hundred spears were
turned to catch him on their points. The
soldiers forgot to stay in their places and the
lines were broken. The Swiss army pressed
through the gap. They seized the weapons of
the invaders and overpowered them in one
mad rush. They fought as men who knew no
fear, for they thought only of their country and
their homes.

Such a battle was never known before. Switz-
erland was saved and Arnold Winkelried did not
die in vain.

166

Second Reader.

UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE.

Under the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie w itli nie,
And tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's tliroat J*
Come hither, come hither, come liither',
Here shall we see
No enemy,
But winter and rough weatlier.

Who doth ambition shun.
And loves to live in the sun.
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased with w^liat he gets ?
Come hither, come hither, come hither ;
Here shall we see
No enemy,
But winter and rough weather.

THE SNOW MAN.

Part I.

" It is so nice and cold," said the snow man,
** that it makes my whole body crackle. This is
just the kind of wind to put life into one. How
that great red thing up there is staring at me."
He meant the sun, which was just setting.
"But he shall not make me wink. I shall
stand fast."

Hans Christian Andersen.,
Photograph from Statue

■<<

The Snow Man.

169

He lia<l two large three-cornered pieces of
slate in his head instead of eyes ; his mouth
was a bit of an old rake, so that he had good,
strong teeth. He had ])een born amid the merry
shouts of boys, the tinkling of sleigh-bells, and
the cracking of whips.

The sun went down, and the full moon rose,
large and round and bright, in the deep blue
sky. The snow man thought it was the sun
rising again. " There he comes again from the
other side," said he. " But I have cured him of
staring. He may hang there now and shine as
long as he likes, so that I may be able to see
about me.

" I only wish I knew how to move about from
place to place as people do. I should so like to
move. If I could I would slide on the ice, as I
have seen the bovs do, but I do not know how
to run."

"Bow-wow!" barked the old watch-dog. He
was very hoarse. He had once been kept in the
house, and lay by the fire, and he had been
hoarse ever since. "The sun will teach you to
run fast enough. Did I not see him — last year's
snow man — run? Yes; and many another before
him. Bow-wow 1 He will soon make you run."

" I don't know what you mean^ comrade," said
the snow man. "Will that thing up yonder

170

Second Reader.

teach 1110 to run ? I know he can run, for he
ran fast enough a Httle while ago when I looked
at him, and now he comes creeping up the other
side."

' ** You don't know anything," said the watch-
dog ; " but no wonder, when you have only just
been made. The thing you see up yonder just
now is the moon, and what you saw before it
was the sun. He will come again to-morrow
morning, and will very Hkely teach you to run
down into the ditch ; for I think the weather is
going to change. I feel it in my bones. There
is sure to be a change."

*' I can't 1 ake out what he is talking about,"
said the snow man to himself, **but I feel it is
about something not at all pleasant. The thing
which stared at me so, and then went out of
sight, and which he calls the sun, is no. my
friend ; I can feel that too."

" Bow-wow ! " barked the watch-dog, and then
he turned round three times and lay down in his
house to sleep.

The change in the weather that he had spoken
about really came. Next morning a thick, wet
fog covered the whole country, and a sharp, i^y
wind arose which seemed to freeze one's very
bones ; but when the sun got up the sight was
beautiful.

■:.Ti ' ■ . / .

' y.

The Snow Man.

171

All the trees and ])ushes were covered with
hoar-frost, and looked like a forest of white
coral, or as thouj^h every branch was covered
with sparklinj^ gems. All the little twigs too,
that cannot be seen in summer for the leaves,
now stood out clearly, looking like fine, white
lace-work. Every bough glittered with a clear,
bright light. The birch, waving in the wind,
seemed as much alive as in summer-time ; and
when the sun shone, everything sparkled as if
diamond dust had been strewn about.

1»ART II.

" This is really beautiful," said a young girl
who had come into the garden with a young
man, and they both stood still near the snow
man to look at the fairy-like scene. '* Why,
summer can show us nothing lovelier than this,"
she added, and her eyes sparkled.

"And we can't have a fellow like that in
summer," replied the young man, pointing to
the snow man. " He is capital."

The girl laughed, nodded her head at the snow
man, and then tripped away over the snow with
her friend. The snow creaked and crackled
under their feet as if they had been walking on
starch.

172

Second Reader.

" Who aro those two ? " asked the snow man
of the watch-dof(. ** You are older than I am.
Do you know them ?"

** Of course I do," said the watch-dog. " She
has often patted me on the back, and he has
given me bones. I never ])ite those two." .

"But who are they?" again asked the snow
man. ( -

** They are lovers," replied the watch-dog.
" They will go and live in the same kc»nnel and
gnaw at the same bone by-and-by."

" Are they as great people as you and 1 '{ "
asked the snow man.

"Well, they belong to the same master," said
the dog. "It is strange how little people know
who were born only yesterday. But I have age,
and I know every one about here ; and there
was once a time when I did not stand out here
chained in the cold. Bow-wow!" .^

"The cold is splendid," said tho snow man.
"But do tell me, tell me; only don't rattle. your
chain so, for it makes me crack all through when
you do that."

" Bow-wow ! " barked the watch-dog. " When
I was a puppy they called me a pretty little
fellow. I lay on a velvet chair up in the
master's house, and sometimes sat in my mis-

. \

The Snow Man.

173

m-, '

tress's lap. They used to kiss mo, and to wipe
my paws with a scented handkerchief, liut
after a while I grew too big for them, and then
they sent me down to the kitchen, You can see
it from where you stand. , ' , ♦

** It is not such a fine place as the room
upstairs; but I was more comforta])le in it, for
I was not always being taken hold of and pulkul
about by the children as I had been, licisides, I
had plenty of good things to eat, and I had my
own cushion. And then there was the stove.
It is the finest thing in the world at this time
of the year. I used to creep right under it.
Oh, I dream of that stove still 1 Bow-wow I "

*' Is a stove so beautiful ? " asked the snow
man. " Is it like me ? "

" It is just the opposite of you ; it is as black
as coal, and has a long neck and brass knobs.
It eats burning wood, so that fire comes out of
its mouth. Oh, it is so fine to keep close by its
side, or to get right under it I You can see it
through the window from where you stand."

Then the snow man looked, and saw a black
shining thing with brass knobs and fire gk?aming
from the lower part of it. And as ho looked, a
strange feeling came over him that he had never
felt before, and could not tell the meaning of

174

Second Readeii.

But iiK'ii who an) not iiuulc of snow know what
it moans well enou^^^li. ,, ^

** And why did you leavo lior ? " asked the
snow man, for he felt that the stove nuist })e of
the female sex. ** How coukl you come away
from such a place ? "

** I had to leave," replied the watch-dog.
" They turned me out and chained me up liere.
I bit one of the boys in the leg because he
kicked away the bone I was gnawing. * lione
for bone/ thought I ; but they were so angiy
that from that time I have been tied up here,
and have lost my voice. Don't you hear how
hoarse I am ? Bow-wow ; that's the end of
it all."

'. ' ^ Part III.

The snow man did not wish to hear any more.
He was gazing into the housekeeper's room on
the lower storey, where the stove stood on its
four iron legs, looking about the same size as
himself.

"Oh, how strangely I feel," he said. " Shall I
ever get in there ? It is my only wish, and I
must go in and stand beside her, even if I have
to break the window on my way." \

'* You must never go in there," said the watch-
dog. " If you did get near the stove, it would
soon be all over with you. Bow-wow I "

The Snow Man.

175

" 1 think it is all over with inc us it is," sai<l
the snow man. " 1 believe 1 am breaking to
pieces."

All day the snow man stood staring in throu^di
the window. And in the twilij^ht the room
looked still more pleasant ; for a gentle, glow
came from the stove not like sunlight, nor moon-
light either — no, only the waraith which comes
from a stove when it is well fed. Every now and
then, when the door of the stove was opened, a
bright flame leaped up, and its red light shone
on the snow man's white face and breast.

" I can bear this no longer," said he. '* How
beautiful she looks when she puts out her
tongue I" The night was long, but it did not
seem long to the snow man. A sharp frost set
in, and by the morning all the windows were
covered with the loveliest frost flowers that any
snow man could wish to see.

But alas ! they hid the stove from his sight.
The panes would not thaw, and he could not see
her. It was just the kind of weather that should
have pleased the snow man, but he was not
pleased. He ought to have been happy, but he
was not ; he hmged so much for the stove.

"That is a bfid complaint for a snow man,"
said the watch-dog. " I know what it is, for I
had it myself. But I got over it. Bow-wow !

176

Second Reader.

Now we are going to have a change in the
weather."

The weather did change ; it began to thaw.
As the thaw went on the snow man went off.
He said nothing; he only pined and wasted
away. One morning he broke and fell down
altogether. ■ -■

Something like a broomstick stuck up in the
place where the boys had built him. " Now I
know the meaning of it all," said the watch-dog.
" The snow man had a stove poker in his inside.
That is why he had such a great longing for the
stove. But it is all over now. Bow-wow ! "

And now came the end of the winter. '' Bow-
wow !" barked the watch-dog ; but the little girls
of the house danced about in the sunshine sing-
ing, and nobody thought any more of the snow
man.

OUR ALMANAC.

Robins in tlie tree-tops,

Blossoms in tlie grass ;
Green things a-growing

Everywhere you pass ;
Sudden little breezes ;

Showers of silver dew ;
Black bougji and bent twig

Budding out anew !

the

Our Almanac. •

Pine tree and willow tree,
Fringed elm, and larch,

])c)n't you tliink that May-tiincH
Pleasanter than March ?

177

Apples in the orchard,

Mellowing one by one ;
Strawberries upturning

Soft cheeks to the sun ;
Roses, faint with sweetneijs

Lilies, fair of face ;
Drowsy scents and murmur

Haunting every place ;
Lengths of golden sunshine

Moonligh.t bright as day-
Don't you tliink that Sumn

Pleasanter than May ?

icr s

lloger in the corn-patch,

Whistling negro songs ;
Pussy by the hearth-side,

Romping with the tongs ;
Cliestnuts in tlie ashes,

Burstiuij throuj^li tlie rind ;,
•Red-leaf and gold-leaf,

Rustling down the wind ;
Mother " doin' peaches "

All the afternoon —
Don't you think that Autunn^'

Pleasanter than June ?

178

Second Reader.

•■1

1;>|

Little fairy snow-flakeH,

Dancing in the fine :
Old Mr. Santa Clar.s,

What is keeping ycni ?
Twilight and firelight ;

Shadows come and go ;
Merry chime of sleigh-bells,

Tinkling through the snow ;
Mother knitting stockings,

(Pussy has the ball !) —
Don't you think that Winter's

Pleasanter than all ?

THE STORY OF DICK WHITTINGTON.

In the reign of King Edward the Third, there
lived in a small English village a poor couple,
named Wliittington, who had a son called Dick.
His parents dying when he was very young, he
could scarcely remember them at all ; and as he
was not old enough to work, he was for a long
time badly off, until a kind but poor old woman
took pity on him, and made her cottage his home.

She alw^ays gave him good advice ; and as he
was hard-working ancl well-l)ehave(l, he became
quite a favorite in the village. When ho was
fourteen years old, and liad grown up to be a
stout, good-looking yontli, the good old Avoman
died, and he had to look out liow to earn his
living by his own efFoi'ts. Now ])i(^k ivas ])right

The Story of Dick Whittington.

179

ig'

and intelligent, and fond of gaining knowledge
by asking questions of everybody who could tell
him something useful. In this way he had heard
much about the wonderful city of London ; more,
indeed, than was true, for the country-folks were
fond of talking of it as a place where the streets
were paved with gold. This arose from their
ignorance, for very few indeed amongst them
had ever seen it. Although Dick was not so
foolish as to believe this nonsense, yet he felt
very curious to go to London and see it with
his own eyes, hoping that in so great and
wealthy a place he should get on better than
he could in a poor country village.

One fine summer morning, therefore, he ])oldly
started on his journey, with but a tritie of money
in his pocket. When he had walked on for !• ome
hours, lie felt very tired, and was rather alariied
at the thought of the distance he had to ti'av^ei.
While he was thinking about this, he het^rd the
wheels of a heavy waggon on its way to London,
slowly coming along the road behind him. This
rough sound was like music to his ears, weary as
he then was. As soon as the waggoner came up,
Dick without much ado told him his plan, and
begged that he might have a lift until his legs
were rested enough to let him walk again. This
the man agreed to do, and so, partly by riding,

180

Second Reader.

'fH,*! '

and partly by walking side by side with the
waggoner, Dick managed to reach the great city
he was so anxious to behold.

Though Dick's heart beat with joy on finding
himself really in London, he was not quite
pleased with the look of the streets and houses.
He had fancied to himself a grander and richer
place than the city seemed to him at first sight
to be. But this is a very common kind of mis-
take — indeed, we all of us make it sometimes ;
in our fancy, everything we have yet to see
appears only on its bright side, but in reality
everything has its dark side as well. Dick soon
found out this truth for himself, as we shall sec
presently.

After Dick had parted with the friendly wag-
goner, he had only a groat left out of his little
store of money ; a night's lodging, and a scanty
meal or two soon exhausted this, and after
wandering about for a whole day, he felt so
weary and faint from fatigue and hunger, that
he threw himself down on the steps of a door-
way, and resting his head on this hard pillow,
slept soundly until morning. Not knowing what
to do, he walked on farther, and looking about
him, his eye fell on a strange-looking knocker on
the door of a large house, just like the face of a
black monkey grinning. He could not help grin-

m 1

The Story of Dick Whittington.

181

ning too, and then he thought there could l)e no
great harm if he lifted the knocker and waited to
see who should appear. Now, the house stood
in a busy part of London, and l^elonged to a
merchant named Fitzwarren. It was the cook,
a sour-looking, ill-tempered woman, who opened
the door. When she saw it was a poor, ill-
dressed, country lad, who had disturl^ed her at
breakfast, she began to abuse him roughly, and
to order him away. Luckily for Dick, Mr.
Fitzwarren, who was a kind, polite gentleman,
came up to the door at this moment, and lis-
tened carefully to the poor boy's story; and so
much struck was he with his truthful aspect and
simple language, that he kindly ordered Dick to
be taken into the house and cared for, until he
should be able to get his living in some decent
way.

Alice, the merchjint's daughter, who had over-
heard all this, and well knowing the unfeeling
nature of the cook, did all she could to save
Dick from harsh treatment. Her own kindness
of heart made her feel for the distress of the
poor orphan boy, and she tried her best to make
her parents take some interest in his welfare.
She succeeded so far that they agreed Dick
should remain in the house if he could make
himself useful by assisting the cook and the

182

Second Reader.

other servants. This, however, was not a very
easy matter, for the cook disHked the boy from
the first, and did all she could to spite him.
Amongst her other acts of cruelty, she made
him sleep on a wretched hard bed placed in
an old loft, sadly infested with, rats and mice.
Dick dared not complain; and besides, he did
not like to make mischief; fo he bore with his
trouble f ;s long as he could, and resolved at
length when he should have money enough, to
buy liiiLseii a cat. Now, it happened that,
within a very few days from this, a poor womiin,
passing by the door while he was cleaning it,
offered to sell him a cat, and when she heard his
story, let him have it for a penny.

Dick took his prize up to his loft, and there
kept pussy in an old wicker basket, with a cover
to it, to be out of the cook's sight, as he feared
she would do the cat a mischief if she found her
straying about. Kow and then he w^ould take
pussy with him when he went out on errands, so
that they soon became great friends. Not only
was pussy a capital mousei , and very soon got
rid of his nightly visitors, the rats and mice, but
she was very clever and quick in learning many
diverting tricks that her master tried to make
her perform. One day, when Dick was amusing
himself with her antics, he was surprised by his

Thk SioRY OF Dick Whittington.

183

nng
his

young mistress, Alice, who lu'caiiu^ afterwards
almost as fond of the cat as Dick was himself

This young lady always remained the poor
lad's f iend, and this clieered him up under the
cruel usage he received from the cook, who
sometimes beat him severely. Alice was not
l)eautiful in person, but what was of greater real
value to her, she was truly amiable in temi)er,
and had the most pleasing manners. It was no
wonder, then, that Whittington, smarting under
the ill-treatment of the coarse cook-maid, should
regard his kind young mistress as nothing less
than an angel ; whilst the modesty of the youth,
his correct conduct, his respectful bearing, and
his love of truth interested Alice so mucli in his
behalf, that she persuaded her father to let one
of the young men teach him to write, for he
could already read very well ; and the progress
he made in this, and in acquiring further
knowledge, was a matter of surprise to all.

Mr. Fitzwarren, as we have said, was a mer-
chant ; and it was his custom, whenever one of
his ships went out, to call his family and servants
around him, and ask them all in turn to make a
little venture, according to their wishes or power,
under the special charge of the captain. Poor
Whittington was the only one al)sent wdien this
next happened ; he, poor fellow, felt ashamed

184

Second Reader.

that lie possessed nothing of value to send as his
venture. But he was called for, and told that he
must produce something — no matter what — to
try his luck. The poor youth then burst into
tears, from very vexation and shame, when his
kind friend Alice whispered in his ear, "Send
your cat, Dick ; " and forthwith he was ordered
to take Pussy, his faithful friend and companion,
on board, and place her in the hands of the
captain. His young mistress, however, took
good care to make the mouser's capital qualities
known to the captain, so that he might make the
most of her for Dick's benefit.

After the loss of his cat Dick felt rather
sorrowful, and this was not made less by the
taunts and jeers of his old enemy, the cook, who
used to tease him constantly about his "fine
venture," and the great fortune he was to make
by it. Poor fellow ! she led him a wretched life ;
and as his young mistress, besides, was soon
after absent from home on a visit, he lost heart
entirely, and could no longer bear to live in the
same house with his tormentor.

In this gloomy state of mind, he resolved to
quit Mr. Fitzwarron's house, and he started off
one morning very early, unnoticed l)y any one,
and wandoriMl some distance out of town. Tired
and wretched, he Hung himself upon a large stone

The Story of Dick Whittixotox.

185

by the roadside, which from his liaving rested
himself upon it is called Whittington's Stone to
this day. He presently sank into a sort of doze,
from which he was roused by the sound of Bow
Bells ringing a merry peal. As he listened to
them, he fancied he could make out the follow-
ing words, addressed to himself, and the more he
listened, the plainer the bells seemed to chant
them to his ear :

" Turn again, Whittinj:;ton,
Lord Mayor of London."

A new spirit of hope was awakened within him,
as he kept repeating these words after the bells,
for they inspired him with great thoughts. So
distinctly did they appear to be addressed to
him, that he was resolved to bear any hardships
rather than check his way to fortune by idle
repining. So he made the best of his way home
again, and, late in the morning as it was, he
luckily got into the house without his absence
having been noticed. Like a brave-hearted boy,
he exerted himself now more than ever to make
himself useful, above all to his worthy master
and his kind ycumg mistress, and he succeeded
beyimd his hopes ; almost everybody saw that he
was desirous to do his duty, and to excel in all
he tried to do. Alice was more and more satis-
fied with his conduct, and heard with pleasure of

186

Second Rkadek.

the ^reat progress ho was making in his studies.
But the cook continued as surly as ever, although
she must have seen he no longer minded her ill-
temper as he used to do.

While matters were thus going on at home,
Mr. Fitzwarren's ship, the Unicorn, was slowly
pursuing her voyage to a distant part of Africa.
In those days the art of sailing was but little
known, and much greater dangers were incurred
through ignorance in steering vessels than is now
the case. The Unicorn was unlucky enough to
meet with much foul weather, and was so tossed
about that she lost her cours'?; but what was
worse, owing to her being so long away from any
port, her pro\dsions weio nearly all gone, and
every one on board b(?gan to dc pair of their
ever returning to England. It was wonderful

nt, all through this dreadful period of suffrring,
^ I 'ington's cat should have been kept alive
e. \ ell ; but so it was, and this no doubt was
owing to the great care taken of her by the cap-
tain himself, who had not forgotten the interest
Alice had expressed to him about the cat. Not
only was pussy by this means kept alive, but she
contrived to bring up a little family of kittens ;
t Ar funny tricks greatly diverted the sailors,
and helped to keep them in good humor when
they began to feel discontented.

The Story of Dick WmrrrvoTov.

1K7

At lenj^th, wlion tho last Inscuit liad been
eaten, an<l nothing l)iit death seiMueil to be in
store for the poor sailors, they wcu'e rojoieed to
find tlmt their prayers to Heaven for aid had
been heard ; for when day ])roke, hind was scumi.
This proved to be a king(h)m on t h(* ^ frican
coast, aboundmg with wealth. The pc )le who
lived there were black, but they were K '. and
much pleased to be visited by the ships »)t' white
men, for the cruel slave-trade had not thim hvvAi
heard of among them. The king, as soon as he
was told of the arrival of the Unicorn,, siHit some
of his great men to invite the captain and a f(5W
of his companions to visit his court, and to have
the honor of dining with him and his ([uecni.

A grand dinner, in the fashion of the country,
was provided for the occasion; an<l gi'(Mit good
humor prevailed until the dishes were placed on
the table, when the white visitor's wei'e aston-
ished at the appearance of rats and mice in vast
numbers, which came from their hiding-places
and devoured nearly all the viands in a very
short time. The king and queen seemed to
regard this as no uncommon event, although
they felt ashamed it should occur on this
occasion.

Wlien the captain found, on making enquiry,
that there was no such animal as a cat known in

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Sciences

Corporation

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WEBSTIR.N.Y. MSSO

(716) 872-4503

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188

Second Reader.

the country, he all at once thought of asking
leave to introduce Whittington's cat at court,
feeling convinced that pussy would soon get rid
of the abominable rats and mice that infested
the place. The royal pair and the whole court
listened to the captain's account of the cat's
good qualities as a mouser with wonder and
delight, and were eager to see her talents put
to the proof. Puss was taken ashore in her
wicker basket. A fresh repast was prepared,
and was about to be attacked in a similar way,
when she sprang in a moment among the crowd
of rats and mice, killing several, and putting the
rest to flight in less than the space of a minute.

Nothing could exceed the joy caused by this
event. The king and queen and all their people
knew not how to make enough of pussy, and
they became more and more fond of her when
they found how gentle and playful she could be
with them, although so fierce in battling with
rats and mice. As might be expected, the
captain was much pressed to leave this valuable
cat with his black friends, and he, thinking that
they would no doubt make a right royal return
for so precious a gift, readily acceded to the re-
quest. The queen's attachment to puss seemed
to know no bounds, and she felt great alarm lest
any accident should befall her, fearing that in

The Story of Dick Whittington.

189

lat
irn
'e-
led
;st
in

that case, the odious rats and mice would return,
more savage than ever. The captain comforted
her greatly, however, by telling her that pussy
had a young family of kittens on l)oard, which
should also be duly presented at court.

Now the queen had a tender heart, an<j when
she had heard from the captain all the particu-
lars of Whittington's story, and of the poor lad's
great regret at parting with his cat, she felt quite
sorry to deprive him of his favorite ; the more so
since pussy's kittens were found to be quite able
to frighten away the rats and mice. So the cat
was replaced in her wicker basket and taken on
board again. The gratitude of the king and
queen for the important services rendered by
pussy and her family was shown by the lich
treasures they sent to Whittington, as the owner
of the wonderful cat.

The captain, having at last completed his busi-
ness, and got ready his ship as well as he could,
took leave of his African friends, and set sail for
England ; and after a very long absence, during
which Mr. Fitzwarren had given up the ship for
lost, she safely arrived in the port of London.
When the captain called upon the merchant,
the latter was nuich affected at again seeing
so valued a friend restored to him, whom he
regarded as lost. The ladies also, who were

190

Second Reader.

present, wept for joy, and were very curious to
hear of the perils encountered and the strange
sights witnessed by the captain. Alice, in par-
ticular, wanted to know without delay what had
befallen Dick's cat and what was the success of
his venture. When the captain had explained
all that had happened, he added that Whitting-
ton ought to be told of the result of his venture
very carefully, otherwise his good luek might
make him lose his wits. But Mr. Fitzwarren
would hear of no delay, and had him sent for at
once.

Poor Dick at that moment had just been
basted by the cook with a ladle of dripping, and
was quite ashamed to appear in such a plight
before company. But all his woes were soon
forgotten when the worthy merchant told him of
his good fortune, and added that it was a just
reward granted by Heaven for his patience
under hard trials, and for his good conduct and
industry. When the boxes and bales containing
the treasures given by the African king and
queen to the owner of the cat, and r "ked
outside with a large W, were displayed .^efore
the astonished youth, he burst into tears, and
implored his master to take all, if he would but
continue to be his friend. But the merchant
would touch none of it, declaring it belonged

The Stoky of Dick Whi'itington.

191

to Wliittingtoii, and to him alone. Before the
captain took his leave, he said to Dick play-
fully, " I have another present for you from the
African queen," and calling to a sailor below,
ordered him to bring up the wicker-basket, out
of which leaped Mrs. Puss, to the great joy of
her former master ; and right happy was she to
see him again, purring round him, and rubbing
her head against his face when he took her up in
his arms. For the rest of her days she continued
to live with her grateful master.

Dick made a liberal and proper use of his
wealth, rewarding all who had been in any way
kind to him ; nor did he even omit his old
enemy, the cook. Mr. Fitz warren constantly
refused Whittington's earnest wishes that he
would accept at least some of his great wealth,
but he agreed to become his guardian and
manager of his property until he should be of
age. Under his prudent counsel, Whittington
grew up to he a thriving merchant, and a wise
and good citizen.

On coming of age, he sought for and won the
hand of .Vlice, who had been his helper and
friend in all his trials.

Whittington rose in importance every year,
and was nnich esteemed by all persons. He

192

Second Reader.

served in Parliament, was knighted also, and
was thrice Lord Mayor of London — thus ful-
filling the prophecy uttered, as he had fancied,
by Bow Bells. When he served that office for
the third time, it was during the reign of Harry
the Fifth, just after that great king had con-
quered France. Sir Eichard gave a feast to him
and his queen in such great style, that the king
was pleased to say, "Never prince had such a
subject ! " to which it has been said the Lord
Mayor loyally replied, ** Never subject had such
a prince ! " At this feast the king was much
pleased with a fire made from choice woods and
fragrant spices, upon which Sir Richai'd said that
he would add something that would make the
fire burn more brightly, for the pleasure of his
king; when he threw into the flames many bonds
given by the king for money borrowed of the
citizens to carry on the war with France, and
which Sir Richard had called in and paid to the
amount of sixty thousand pounds.

After a long life, this good man, who made
himself much loved by his noble public works
and acts of charity, for many of which he is still
kept in memory, died, greatly to the sorrow of
every one, having survived Alice, his wife, about
twenty years.