LITTLE SIR CAT
Lady Bug, Lady Bug, fly away home;
Your house is on fire, your children are gone!
Sang the little yellow bird whose name I shall tell you some day when Little Sir Cat finishes his journey through Mother Goose Country.
And just then the fire engine went by, so he jumped up behind and away they went over a bridge across the River Dee near which the Jolly Miller on his pillow found a flea.
Well, pretty soon they came to a meadow in which a little bush was on fire. And right there close beside it, was the poor Lady Bug flapping her red wings wildly in fear and panic for hidden under the bush were all her little lady bugs.
"Oh, save my children!" she cried.
Little Sir Cat scrambled under the thicket but the brambles kept catching in his boot straps and pulling him back. So he kicked them off, taking care not to burn his bare toes on the hot stubbles, and carefully felt his way through the smoke until he finally reached the nest near the heart of the thicket. There lay all the Lady Bug's children, hundreds of them huddled together, frightened and smothered nearly to death.
THE FIRE ENGINE
"Oh, I hope they are not quite dead," he said, tenderly picking up the smallest one. "But what shall I do now? How can I carry them all out?"
Then, quick as a wink, before the fire reached him, he picked them all up and put them in his hat.
"Hurry, my brave fireman!" called the Mother Lady Bug; "save my treasures."
And in less time than I can take to tell it, he carried them out of danger.
Just then up came Dapple Gray, so Little Sir Cat said good-by and rode away.
By-and-by, he whispered to Dapple Gray, "Yonder stands the lady who rode you far away. Do you want to run right by her, or do you want to stay behind this clump of bushes until she walks away?"
Dapple Gray made no reply. He stood perfectly still and didn't even peek around until the lady was out of sight. So that was answer enough for Little Sir Cat, and he rode off towards a little church, for it was vesper time and the bell was ringing for the people to come to worship. Pretty soon the organ began to play, so he stopped to listen, and so did the stars and the big moon up in the sky. They didn't move, but shone right down on the little white building. After a while he got down and led Dapple Gray into a grove of trees and lay down on some leaves for the night. And pretty soon you shall hear how he and his pony had another adventure,—unless—
A giant goes down the street for a stroll,
And thinks a peppermint stick is a barber's pole.
There was an old woman lived under a hill
On auto'bile wheels that wouldn't stand still.
So she drove around selling her cranberry pies,—
And she's the old woman who never told lies.
[The Little Goose-Girl]
Many years ago there lived a little goose-girl named Helena. Every morning at sunrise she left the hut where her mother lived, and trudged away in the midst of her flock of geese. All day long she stayed in the fields with them to see that they did not wander away, and in the evening she brought them back to the village.
The hamlet she lived in was very small, and Helena had the care of all the geese in the place. Ten of the flock belonged to her mother, the rest belonged to the neighbors.
Helena was almost as fat as the fattest goose in her flock. Over her plump, freckled face she wore a flat cap, and her flaxen hair in two long braids down her back. Her waist was black, without any sleeves and opened in the front, while the sleeves of her smock were full and long. Her skirt was very short and full, and plaited all around the waist. In summer she went barefooted, but in winter she wore thick stockings and wooden shoes.
She carried in her hand a long stick, with which to manage her goose family, but she was kind-hearted and never struck them hard. Her little dog, Hero, helped her keep them in order. He was so well trained that when they wandered away, he would bark and snap at them until he frightened them back.
Every morning at sunrise the geese waited in front of the huts for Helena. Amid a great squawking and hissing they were collected from door to door, and when the flock was all gathered, Helena drove them off to the feeding ground, a low flat marshy place, near the river, where they delighted to waddle in the greenish pools and coarse grasses.
Helena had collected a pile of stones on a dry spot which was a little higher than the marshy ground around it, and here she would sit on her throne, like a queen looking over her goose kingdom.
When dinner time came, she would take from a basket a slice of very coarse bread, almost black, a piece of cheese, or a slice of thick, raw sausage. When she had finished eating, she would take from the same basket her spinning, and with her distaff she twirled the thread around and drew it through her fingers. This was the old-fashioned way of spinning, and even now one often sees girls and women with their distaffs spinning in the fields while they watch their cows or sheep or geese.
There were many beautiful flowers growing in the marshy land, and when Helena grew tired of spinning, she gathered violets and forget-me-nots. She would make a wreath of blue lilies and yellow dandelions and hang it about her neck. Sometimes she would make a collar for her dog, and once she made a wreath for a pet gander, but he twisted his long neck and ate up the flowers, at which Helena laughed, showing that she was a happy little girl, although she did have to tend the geese all day.
[RISING TIME]
Pussy's asleep, and the little gray mouse
Is looking about the quiet house.
But oh, dear me! If Pussy should wake
The little mouse wouldn't get any cake.
[FEBRUARY]
Dear Boys and Girls—Did it ever occur to you that February is a famous month, for in it were born two of the greatest men that ever lived, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln?
Perhaps the determination of Washington never to allow himself to be discouraged in the face of tremendous difficulties and treachery stands out as one of the biggest factors in his character.
Looking back through history every boy as he gazes on the face of Washington feels a thrill of pride; the Father of His Country, the man who never told a lie, the man who never admitted there was such a word as "fail."
And when we turn to Lincoln, who in the crisis of our country's welfare stood like a rock and brought order out of chaos, preserved the Union, "now and forever," and, with "malice toward none," brought the men of the North and the men of the South under the Stars and Stripes again as brothers—we find the Savior of our Country.
For the boy of to-day two such men as Washington and Lincoln are an inspiration. Human nature was just the same in those days as now—politics were just as corrupt and morals just as bad—but each of those men shone out with the attributes of greatness—courage, honesty and truth.
And for the girl of to-day who realizes how the mothers of those two men gave to this country each a hero; how those mothers by early training and instruction brought their boys up to reverence courage and honesty and truth, there is an inspiration; for the sweetest word that is murmured in the nursery or whispered in prayer on the battlefield is Mother.
