Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the
Copyright by R. Worthington, 1880.
|Transcriber’s Note: the following corrections were made to the text:|
|couldn’t for could’nt|
|foxglove for foxglore|
|curtsied for curtised|
|servants for sevants|
THE NEW BABY.
Came down from the sky in the night.
A soft little baby, with violet eyes,
Shining, and pure, and white.
Down here from the depths of the sky?
She couldn’t have come alone, you know,
For she’s much too young to fly.
From the far-away, beautiful blue;
Brought her down from the arms of God,
A present to me and to you.
And give her a lot of love,
That she may not need the angels
Till she meets them again above.
You shall not be lazy, you never will talk;
And, as I’ve got all the talking to do,
I think you might please me by walking, don’t you?
I’ll show you the apples that grow on the tree,
I’ll show you the bees, and the butterflies, too,
The hills all so purple, the sky all so blue.
You only have worn them twice since your birthday.
Red hat and red feather—now come, if you please,
Gently, my dolly, we learn by degrees.”
You soon will be going as fast as a deer,
And then such racing, we will have all day long,
Playing “tag” in the very midst of the throng.
WHERE DID IT COME FROM?
Hop, hop, hop! In it came at the window, the dearest little yellow canary, not a bit afraid; chirping, turning its pretty head this way and that, and asking its little bird questions which nobody could understand.
George, and Winifred, and little Bruce were all filled with delight and amazement at the small visitor. Wise George flew to shut the window, kind Winny ran for cake, and solemn Bruce took his finger out of his mouth and stared.
Meanwhile Dicky sidled, and fluttered, and chattered, and at last showed he was used to society by setting down on George’s finger, winking at Bruce, and making a good meal of Winny’s cake.
“Do you think he can have flown straight from the Canary Islands?” asked Winny.
But George shook his head; it was too far.
But still they had a feeling that the little visitor was a sort of emigrant, who must be led to settle at Fairleigh Cottage; and Winny ran to ask her mother for the half-crown out of her money-box to buy him a cage.
“Mother’s coming,” she said. “She thinks Birdie belongs to some one else, because he is so tame.”
“But there are no canaries in the village, except the schoolmaster’s pair,” said wise George; “and this little beauty is not one of them. I really think this bird must have come to look for a home.”
|Stands over Apples,
So rosy and round.
|Begins the word Berries,
Which grow near the ground.
They grow upon trees.
|Date-Palms or Desert,
Spell which word you please.
One little gray,
Six little white ducks
Running out to play.
One white lady-duck, motherly and trim,
Eight little baby-ducks bound for a swim.
One little white duck
Running from the water,
One very fat duck—
Pretty little daughter;
One very grave duck, swimming off alone,
One little white duck, standing on a stone.
One little white duck
Holding up its wings,
One little bobbing duck
One little black duck, turning round its head,
One big black duck—see, he’s gone to bed.
One little lady-duck, motherly and trim,
Eight little baby-ducks bound for a swim.
One lazy black duck, taking quite a nap,
One precious duck, here on mother’s lap.
Full loudly he screams and he cries;
His breakfast is lost, and replace it
He cannot,—however he tries.
Stood safe but a moment ago;
In his haste he leant over to grasp it,
But instead threw it all down below.
And heart-rending shrieks loud and shrill;
He saw not a kind hand was near him
The empty cup soon to refill.
Like you, break our hearts without need,
And see not the Hand that provides us
Our food in sweet harvests and seed.
And wasted our crops ever lie,
Then, forgetful of all our past blessings,
How hastily rises our cry!
Look up to our Father above,
And patiently wait till he fills us
Our cups in His mercy and love.
|Twined by Evergreens.
They never fade.
|Found in Fern-leaves,
Which grow in the shade.
|Is a Grape-vine,
Bearing some fruit.
|Holds a Holly bush
Plucked by the root.
DANCE, DOGGIE, DANCE.
In cap, and coat, and cape;
No, no, indeed my little friend,
You cannot yet escape!
Papa has seen a foreign dog
Dressed up like you in France,
And says that little poodle pup
Was quickly taught to dance.
I will not hurt you there;
Now stand upon your hinder-legs
And lift them in the air.
Listen—I will hum the tune
And you must dance with me;
I want both paws, sir, if you please.
Come, Fido—one, two, three!
Oh dear! he’s run away.
The naughty dog! he sees a cat.
Come here, sir! Fido, stay!
There now, he’s off and won’t come back;
We’ll dance no more to-day;
And Fido’s got my dress and cape—
Oh! what will mother say?”
The children are fond of a merry tune, so they have given the organ-boy a penny to play. The babies stare at the organ, as though they thought it a very funny box to make such a noise. One little child, with a doll in her arms, is giving a piece of bread to the monkey, but he looks as if he suspected it was a trick. The boy has a cloth over his organ, to protect it when it rains. I do not like to see monkeys led about in this way. I think it is cruel, and must cause them much suffering, especially if they have a cruel master. But I think this little boy will be kind to his little companion, and not twist and throw it about as some of the men do. Monkeys are very amusing, after they go through a short training, and will do all manner of tricks for their master.
|Is an Ivy vine,
It clings where it grows.
|Is a Jessamine,
Most fragrant it blows.
|The rich Kidney bean,
Nutritious for food.
|Is the Lily,
An emblem of good.
ONLY A BOY.
The veriest mystery under the sun;
As brimful of mischief, and wit, and glee,
As ever human frame can be;
And as hard to manage, as—ah!—ah, me!
‘Tis hard to tell,
Yet we love him well.
Who cannot be driven, but must be led;
Who troubles the neighbors’ dogs and cats,
And who tears more clothes and spoils more hats,
Loses more tops, and kites, and bats,
Than would stock a store,
For a year or more.
If nature goes on with her first great plan;
If water, or fire, or some fatal snare
Conspire not to rob us of this, our heir.
Our blessing, our trouble, our rest, our care;
Our torment, our joy—
“Only, a boy.”
JOHNNY AND THE TOAD.
I want to go to school,
And he won’t let me pass.
I think that a toad
Ought to keep to the grass.
I don’t want to cry,
But I’m afraid I’m going to;
Oh, dear me!
What am I to do?
Here’s a dreadful thing!
A boy in the way;
I don’t know what to do,
I don’t know what to say.
I can’t see the reason
Such monsters should be loose;
I’m trembling all over,
But that is of no use.
I Must go to school,
The bell is going to stop;
That terrible old toad,
If only he would hop.
I Must cross the path,
I can hear my children croak;
I hope that dreadful boy
Will not give me a poke.
A hop, and a start, a flutter, and a rush,
Johnny is at school, and the toad in his bush.
|Holds a Moss rose,
Covered with down.
|Stands for Walnuts,
In the woods they are found.
|Is an Orange,
So juicy and sweet.
Both are good to eat.
Dolly—because, you see,
To-morrow evening Cousin Jane
Is coming here to tea.
I’m very glad of that;
But as my little iron’s cold,
The tucks will not lie flat.
Herself, and very neatly;
And when she brings it visiting,
She dresses it up sweetly.
Your sash, and sleeve-knots blue,
I really think that you will be
Quite a smart dolly too.
Beguiles the rustic’s closing day,
When drawn the evening fire about,
Sit aged crone and thoughtless lout;
Come, show thy tricks and sportive graces,
Thus circled round with merry faces.
Backward coiled, and crouching low,
With glaring eyeballs watch thy foe.
The house wife’s, spindle whirling round,
Or thread, or straw, that on the ground
Its shadow throws, by urchin sly,
Held out to lure thy roving eye.
Then, onward stealing, fiercely spring
Upon the futile, faithless thing.
Now, wheeling round with bootless skill,
Thy bo-peep tail provokes thee still,
As oft beyond thy curving side
Its jetty tip is seen to glide.
Whence hast thou, then, thou witless puss,
The magic power to charm us thus?
Is it that in thy glaring eye,
And rapid movements we descry—
While we at ease, secure from ill,
The chimney corner snugly fill.
|Quinces when ripe,
Have an excellent flavor.
|The Rose when presented,
Is a sign of favor.
|Strawberries in dish,
With sugar and cream.
|Tomatoes as fine
As ever were seen.
The name of the bear is Jack. I fetched him from the West India Import Dock on the 5th of November, 1870. He was running about with another bear on board ship, but the job was to catch him. After many attempts we at last put a strong collar round his neck, to which was attached a long chain, and then we got him into a large barrel and fastened the head on with hoop-iron, lowered him over the side of the vessel into a boat, and then pulled to the quay, and hauled him up into a cart. For a time the little fellow was quiet enough, but he got very inquisitive when being driven towards the city, and wanted to have a look round. I managed to quiet him by giving him pieces of lump-sugar. He arrived safely at the Crystal Palace, and has lived in an aviary till the beginning of last month, when he was put into his new bear-pit. The little fellow has grown twice the size he was when he first came. He is very playful, but sometimes he shows his teeth when he is teased.
The lessons are learned, and now we all join hands, and march to the play-ground. And a nice play-ground we have, and every day when it is fine we enjoy ourselves very much. Some like to swing round the great pole, others join hands and form a large ring, and then we try to see which side of the ring can pull the hardest. Others like to run a race, and try who will run three times round the play-ground first. When it is wet we march round our large school-room, keeping time with our feet. And then we have such splendid fun playing “Tag,” first one, and then the other, racing round over benches, and under and around the desks, until we are fairly tired out. Then we hear the bell ring, and we march in, two by two, to commence our lessons again.
Good at times for the health.
|A beautiful Vine,
All alone by itself.
|Wheat in the field,
Gently waved by the wind.
|Xanthic flowers, which
Are a bright yellow kind.
THE STORY OF TOPSY.
Topsy had four kittens, but as it was settled that we could not keep more than one, and little Milly Knight wanting one, the other two had to be drowned. So Milly came one day and selected a nice little black and white one. We were very sorry when Tom took the little creatures and put them in the pond at the bottom of the garden. As they were very young and could not feel much, we thought Topsy would soon forget them. Well, on the evening that they were drowned, while the cook was in her pantry, with the window open, she saw something come rushing along, and, in another minute, Topsy leaped through the window, carrying in her mouth one of the kittens, dripping wet, which she laid on the mat and began to lick with all her might. And how she licked it! Over and over, and over again, till, as the cook said, she “licked it into life.” The little kitten got well, and became, owing to its narrow escape, and the love displayed, a great pet ever afterward.
PLAYING AT HORSES.
Are finished for to-day,
And out the happy children
At “horses” come to play.
With doggie “Trim,” are there;
Conny and Frank are harnessed,
And Archie drives the pair.
Across the breezy park;
And doggie runs beside them
With merry, happy bark.
Then off they start again,
For they pretend they’re going
To meet papa’s down train.
|To find these bright flags,
In the marsh you must hunt.
|A Zigadenus flower,
Changing color each month.
TROTTY’S CARD HORSES.
Firm, and strong
We’ll build hereon. Keep away,
Now we’ll see,
If ’twill hold
A number three.
Raise it to
A fourth floor. Yet another;
Oh, what fun!
That’s too many—
Down they come.
THE FIRST VALENTINE.
Here are valentines one, two, three;
There is one for Harry, and one for Will,
And a big one for girlie, see!
Wildly she flies o’er the nursery floor,
Never was girlie so happy before,
As she shouts in her baby glee—
“Oh! I’ve got a valentine, all come, look!
As big as the sheet of a picture book!
Now, don’t you wish you all, like me,
Had a great big heart painted red, you see?”
Now up, now down—she wanders about
Showing her treasure; ’tis fast getting torn,
But paper, we all know, is very soon worn.
“Who do you think can love me the most
To buy this, and send it alone by the post?
Do look again, you must like to see,
‘Tis a great big heart, and it ‘longs to me,
And please to read me the written line
That says, ‘God bless your sweet valentine!'”
SAGACITY OF A DOG.
A very interesting story is told by Mr. Youatt: “I wanted, one day, to go through a tall iron gate, from one part of my premises to another, but just within it lay a poor lame puppy, and I could not get in without perhaps seriously injuring him. I stood for a while hesitating, and at length determined to go round through another gate, when a fine Newfoundland dog, who had been waiting patiently for his wonted caresses, and wondering why I did not come in, looked accidently down at the invalid. He comprehended the whole business in a moment. He put down his great paw, and, as quickly and as gently as possible, rolled the invalid out of the way, and then drew himself back in order to leave room for the opening of the gate.”
|Little Ruth, like the woman of old of that name,
Returns from the field, where she gathered the grain.
IN THE SWING.
As if you’re going to touch the sky;
Only, take care, my darling pet—
Hold the two ropes, and don’t forget.
Laughing away, but holding tight;
While little Dottie waits below,
And Harry sends you to and fro.
To yield to little Dot her place.
Be gentle, dear, for Dot’s so small—
If you’re not careful, she may fall.”
Are fair in play, and well agree;
And now the youngest laughing pet
Begs for “a little higher!” yet.
THE DONKEY RIDE.
“Oh, papa! will you please buy me a donkey?” said little Ella Clark to her father, as she ran to meet him. “Well,” said her father, “if you will promise to be a very good girl, and give your sister May a share of the rides, I will get one in the city and send it home.” So, in a few days the donkey came, with a new bridle and saddle. The next thing to do was to give him a name; so, after trying a great many they agreed to call him “Jack.” The next day Ella and May were up early and went to the barn, where they found Henry, and asked him to saddle “Jack.” Henry brushed down “Jack’s” thick coat of hair, and made him look quite trim, and he then placed Ella on “Jack’s” back, and walked him up and down, holding on to Ella, and in a short time she could ride alone, and felt as proud as a queen when her father saw her sitting up on “Jack’s” back. She then gave May a ride, and at last got so bold as to take “Jack” down the lane alone, and had a splendid time riding up and down.
THE SPELLING LESSON.
And learn to spell like me;
When I say, “Pussy, what is this?”
You must say, That is C.
And try to get away;
But, Pussy, please to try and learn:
This is the letter A.
Oh, dear! where can she be;
Just as I’d taught her how to spell
Clear to the letter T.
She must have seen a rat;
And now how will she ever know
That C-A-T spells Cat.
“GEE UP, PONY.”
There she found uncle down on the floor;
While up on his back sat Harry and Fred,
And Nellie stood by and was stroking his head.
Get on, old Dobbin—don’t wait here all day.”
And “Gee way,” says Freddy, who thinks he must do
Whatever his brother may do or say too.
Creeping and crawling about on the ground;
And mother still hears, as she goes on her way,
“Come, gee up, my pony—don’t wait here all day.”
GOOD-NIGHT AND GOOD-MORNING.
Sewing as long as her eyes could see;
Then smoothed her work, and folded it right,
And said “Dear Work! good-night! good-night!”
Crying “Caw! Caw!” on their way to bed.
She said, as she watched their curious flight,
“Little black things! good-night! good-night!”
The sheeps “Bleat! bleat!” came over the road—
All seeming to say with a quiet delight,
“Good little girl! good-night! good-night!”
The violets curtsied and went to bed;
And good little Lucy tied up her hair,
And said on her knees her favorite prayer.
She knew nothing more till again it was day;
And all things said to the beautiful sun,
“Good-morning! good-morning! our work is begun.”