LITTLE SIR CAT
The next morning as Mrs. Oriole was singing her pretty song, all of a sudden, a big tramp cat ran up the tree. And he would have caught Mrs. Oriole right then and there if Little Sir Cat hadn't shouted: "Don't touch that little bird!" And would you believe it? That tramp cat said, "I won't!" and began to purr:
"Last Saturday night a week ago
I went to the city to see a fine show.
And Sunday morning, just for a lark,
I chased a gray squirrel all over the Park!"
and then he grinned like a cousin of his from Cheshire, and climbed down the tree.
LITTLE SIR CAT HELPS PIGGIE
Well, all of a sudden, Little Sir Cat said "Phist!" which so frightened that naughty cat that he ran away, and I guess he's running yet, for nobody ever saw him again. And this made the little Orioles so happy that they began to sing:
"Oh, how brave is Little Sir Cat!
We like the feather in his hat,
But more than that we like the way
He saved our Mother Bird to-day!"
which so pleased Little Sir Cat that he took a cracker out of his pocket and gave it to them. And after that he said good-by and went upon his way, and by and by he met a big Turkey Gobbler who was being fattened for Thanksgiving. But he didn't know it. Oh, my no! He just thought the farmer fed him nice things because he loved him.
"Helloa!" said Little Sir Cat, "how is Mrs. Turkey?" But the old Turkey Gobbler never answered. He just gobbled, gobbled, not food, you know, but air, for that is the way a turkey talks.
"I can't understand you. You had better go home and talk to Mrs. Turkey," said Little Sir Cat, and away he went, hoping next time to meet a more sociable person.
Well, pretty soon he saw a little pig caught in the fence. So he helped him out and then they set off together, and after a while, not so very far, they came to a big pond where some boys were sailing toy boats. And they were the funniest, queerest little toy boats you ever saw. In fact, they weren't boats at all, but big wooden letters. And just then a little bird began to sing:
"Big 'A' and little 'B'
Went a-sailing on the 'C.'"
"They're Alphabet Boats," cried Little Sir Cat. "I once read about Alphabet Town where all the letters were alive,—'A' was an Ant, and 'B' was a Bee, and if you weren't an artist you couldn't write letters to your friends."
"He, he!" laughed little Piggie Porker, "that was a queer place."
Well, after that Little Sir Cat and Piggie Porker went into the wood to see Goggle Woggle, a little dwarf who knew just where the fairies and Giant Oatencake lived. And as soon as Goggle Woggle saw Little Sir Cat and Piggie, he said: "Let's go up the hill to Giant Oatencake. I've got a wooden sword and if he comes out of his castle, I'll cut off his head!" So off they went, Little Sir Cat, Piggie and Goggle Woggle, and by and by, not so very long, they came to the top of the hill.
"Wait a minute till I get my sword ready," said Goggle Woggle, and maybe it took him quite a long time, for he was just a little bit afraid, you know. And so would you and so would I if we were going to fight Giant Oatencake.
But Little Sir Cat said: "Don't be afraid. I'm with you!" and this made Goggle Woggle feel lots braver. And after that he shouted:
"Come out of your castle!"
Now Giant Oatencake was only a great big tremendous cornstalk, and as soon as Goggle Woggle struck him with his sword, a big ripe ear of corn fell to the ground.
"Here is his head," cried Goggle Woggle, as he put it under his arm. "I'll make pop-corn balls out of it," and he ran back to his big tree in the wood. And in the next story you shall hear what happened after that, unless
The little mouse in the pantry
Catches my Tabby Cat,
And my little yellow canary
Runs away with a high silk hat.
[AS I WAS GOING UP MURRAY HILL]
As I was going up Murray Hill,
Murray Hill was dirty;
There I met a pretty Miss,
Very trim and perty.
"Little Miss, pretty Miss,
If I had a trillion
I would wed you, but, alas!
I only have a million!"
[SANTA'S LETTER FROM DOT]
Dear Santa Claus, I hope that you
Will find it easy to get through
Our chimney, 'cause if you should stick
Up there where all the smoke is thick,
What would we do, and what would you,
For goodness sakes, what would you do?
So if you find it is not wise
Enough for you to safely slide
Down to our room without mistake,
The attic window you must take.
It's quite close to the chimney, too,
And big enough, I know, for you.
I'll creep up there the day before
And leave unlocked the attic door;
And if I can I'll open, too,
The window so you can get through
Without the leastest bit of fuss
With all the presents you've for us.
I don't see how you'll tell apart
Our stockings, so you'd better start
With mine; it's close up to the clock;
The next is father's silken sock;
The others all are just like mine,
'Cept Jimmy's—his is tied with twine.
I want a doll with violet eyes
Who, when you squeeze her, "Mamma!" cries;
And little baby carriage, too,
With pillows and a cover blue;
Some candy and a china set
Of teacups for my dolly pet.
Jim wants a ball, a mask and bat,
A soldier suit, a gun and hat,
Some candy and a picture book
For rainy days at which to look.
Mother says she'll write to you,
And father says that he will, too.
Now, please remember what I've said
About the attic overhead;
The window which I'll leave for you
Wide open so you can get through;
And whose each stocking is, and where,
When you come creeping down the stair,
Good-by, dear Santa Claus, I've wrote
All I can think of in this note.
[THE ANGELS' SONG]
"Hark!" the herald angels cry
Leaning from the starry sky,
"In a manger Christmas morn
Christ the baby King is born!"
Near Him stand the lowly kine,
O'er her little babe divine
Mother Mary bends her face
Full of wonder, tender grace.
Kneeling are the Wise Men Three,
Silent in humility.
In the humble wooden stall
Sleeps the baby King of all.
On the straw that warms His bed
Shines the halo 'round His head,
Like a little candle's light
Making all the stable bright.
Hark! the dewy Heavens ring
With the song the Angels sing,
"In a manger Christmas morn
Christ the baby King is born!"
THE LITTLE RAG-A-MUFFINS
"I wish I could do something for those poor little Brown children," said Susan one morning as she and brother Billy sat by the nursery window reading. "Their father is out of work, and I'm afraid they won't get any Thanksgiving dinner this year."
"I tell you what," suggested Billy, "as we have spent all our money, let's dress up in some of mother's old clothes and make believe we are rag-a-muffins. We'll slip out carefully tomorrow morning, without making any noise."
"That's a fine idea," said Susan. "We can use your water colors to paint our faces."
About 10 o'clock Thanksgiving morning the children went quietly upstairs to their playroom and painted their faces. Then, after dressing, they crept downstairs and out of the house. Their queer costumes attracted much attention, and their pretty, wistful ways gained for them many friends. In an hour, when they had counted their pennies, they found to their delight that they had over three dollars.
"Now we had better hurry to the store and buy the things," said Susan. The kind-hearted butcher let them have a chicken for half price, in order that there should be no disappointed little hearts over the lack of sufficient funds. The basket was soon filled to overflowing and on the top of the vegetables was placed with great care a mince pie.
The Browns were very grateful and Bobby, Billy and Susan were very happy to think that they had done it all themselves.
