Pansy's Sunday Book

by Unknown

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

ABOUT three hundred years ago England’s great queen died. She was not very beautiful. Some said this was a great trial to her, and that she took marvelous pains to “fix” herself up to look as well as any lady in the land. Fine feathers often make pretty birds, but all Queen Bess’ efforts failed to make her handsome. However, as she had royal power she had many admirers. They called her “charming,” “lovely,” “lily,” “rose,” and such other words to flatter her. She liked it, and persuaded herself that after all her features and complexion were nearly exquisite.

However that be she had not a few offers of marriage. But none suited her, or may be she, as a queen, did not want to be bothered with a husband, who would be continually interfering in the government.

It is sad to think of some things this woman did. Of course you will read about it. Sometimes she would have outbursts of anger so great that she would actually box the ears of those around her, no matter how distinguished they were.

The great stain upon her character was her treatment of Mary, Queen of Scots, her own relative. Mary was imprisoned eighteen years, then put to death on charge of conspiracy.

But England arose to extraordinary prosperity under the long reign of “Queen Bess.” There were great scholars in her day, and she encouraged all sorts of improvements. You Pansy girls must some day dress your P. S. President up in the Elizabethan style and say if you would like it nowadays.

L.

(Sent with the gift of a Canary Bird in Cage.)

In memory of the birdlings fair

Who from your nest have flown,

To try in Heaven’s serener air

The wings earth could not own.

M. S. B.

ELSIE’S PLAN.—I.
(Something for Mamma.)

THE thought grew in Elsie’s mind, nourished by three remarks made by her mother and sisters. They were all at work except Irma, who was trying to teach Leoline to jump gracefully from her shoulder, instead of giving such a rude bound. Leoline was the cat. Irma was not apt to be at work, if the truth must be told; she was the only one of the little household who did not seem to understand the need for being industrious. She was two years older than Elsie, but the grown-up sisters often said of her that Elsie was at least three years ahead of Irma in judgment. I have sometimes thought if they had said in conscientiousness it would have been nearer the truth.

At this particular time, while Irma struggled with the cat’s education, Elsie took neat stitches in the apron she was mending, her face looking thoughtful the while. Margaret, the oldest sister, was sewing swiftly on a dress of Irma’s, setting in new sleeves, and in other ways trying to make the half-worn garment look like a new one. Nannie came in, dustpan in hand, and with a handkerchief bound about her hair to protect it from the dust, just as her mother opened the door of the kitchen, with her hands filled with soiled napkins and towels.

“Mother, where can I put that roll of matting?” Nannie asked, a touch of irritation in her voice; “I have reached the end of my resources in tucking things away. If I ever do build a house I will have all the closets I want; good-sized ones, too—and if there is any space left for rooms, there may be a few tucked in; but the closets I will have.”

Mrs. Harding sighed. “Closets are certainly very scarce in this house,” she said wearily, “as well as many other things. I don’t know what to do with the soiled clothes; we need a clothes hamper very much. There is a corner in the upper back hall where one might stand, if we had it.” The sentence ended as it had begun, with a little sigh.

Irma echoed the sigh in a sort of groan. “I saw such a pretty one, mother, last night, at Turner’s. It was only two dollars; I thought of you when I saw them unpacking it. And to think that we cannot afford even two dollars for a basket!”

“There are worse trials in life than even that, I suspect,” said Nannie, darting an angry glance at Irma, as she saw the flush spread and deepen over her mother’s face. Margaret made haste to change the subject.

“We each have our perplexities, it seems,” she said, with a light laugh; “mine has to do with dress. I don’t know what to do with that light sateen of mine; it is too gay to wear about the house at work, even if it were long enough, which it isn’t. It is not worth giving away, it is too good to throw into the rag bag, and there isn’t room for it in my closet. Now what is to be done in such a case?”

Then Elsie spoke for the first time, eagerly, a bright look flashing over her face, as though some perplexity had just then been delightfully solved. “O, Margaret! will you give the dress to me to do just what I please with?”

“To you, child! what can you do with it? It isn’t just the thing for a dollie, I should say.”

“No,” said Irma scornfully, “I should think not. Do let us have our dolls dressed in good taste and decent style, even if we cannot afford anything for ourselves.”

“I don’t want it for my doll, Margaret. I have a plan, a real nice one, if you will let me have the dress, and if mother will give me the matting Nannie cannot find a place for. Will you, mother? There is only a little of it left.”

“Is it the yellow plaid, Nannie? Why, yes, dear, if there is any pleasure to be gotten out of that yard and a half of cheap matting, by all means use it; especially since there is no place to store it.”

Then Mrs. Harding left the room, giving Nannie a chance to say what she was longing to.

“I never saw such a girl as you are, Irma; you omit no opportunity to remind mother of our poverty. Even so trivial a thing as a soiled clothes hamper must draw from you a woe-begone sigh. Why can’t you remember that it is hard enough for mother, at the best, without trying to keep the thought of our troubles ever before her?”

“Why, dear me!” said Irma, “what did I say? Mother knew before I spoke of it that we could not afford even two dollars to buy a clothes hamper. I don’t think she is very likely to forget that we have lost our money.”

“Not if you are around,” answered Nannie angrily. “I think you are a selfish girl; you do nothing but groan and regret, for your share. Well, I can’t help it,” she added, in answer to Margaret’s warning look; “that child’s selfish frettings do try me so!”

“We must not expect old heads on young shoulders, remember,” Margaret said gently, as Irma put Leoline down with a decided bounce, and slammed the door the least bit after her, as she left the room.

“It is the contrast that makes one notice it so,” answered Nannie, with a significant nod of her head toward Elsie. But Elsie neither heard the words, nor saw the nod; her mind was busy elsewhere.

“O, Margaret!” she said eagerly, “I have the loveliest plan. You know to-morrow will be mother’s birthday, and I was all the evening wondering what I could give her; now I know. Nannie, I will take the matting out of your way. I mean to make a clothes hamper for mother out of that and Margaret’s dress.”

Nannie laughed outright, and even Margaret smiled as she said: “Why, dear child, how can you? I am afraid that is a very large undertaking.”

“No,” said Elsie positively; “I see just how I can do it. The plan flashed into my mind as soon as you and Nannie began to talk about the two things in the way. I almost know I can do it. If you will help to keep mother away from our room this afternoon, and she won’t give me anything special to do, I can make it and have it ready for to-morrow morning. I know just how to go to work.”

“Let her try it,” said Nannie, with a wise nod of her head. “The child will make something; I never knew her to fail when she had undertaken to do a thing, and mother’s birthday ought to be noticed in some way, even though we cannot do as we used. I’m going to fix over her sewing-chair; I believe in useful presents myself. We will agree to keep mother in order, Elsie, and the sooner the matting disappears from the front hall the better.”

So the little room occupied by the two younger girls was locked all the afternoon, while Elsie worked steadily, and Irma lounged on the bed with a book, encouraging her sister occasionally with: “You never can do it in the world, Elsie Harding! I don’t see any sense in trying. For my part I would rather give her no present than a bungling thing like that. You can’t sew matting decently; it ravels so.”

Pansy.

AN OLD-TIME MAY-DAY.

THE CUSTOM HOUSE, NEW YORK.

ABOUT NEW YORK.
BY THE PANSIES.

COOPER INSTITUTE.

I READ about it when it was called New Amsterdam. A thousand people, and it was just a straggling little town. Pearl Street they called “De Perel Straat.” The folks were very proud of this street; there were forty-three houses on it! One man thought his fortune was made because he had bought a lot two years before for fifty dollars, and was offered two hundred and fifty for it. And the lot was thirty feet wide and over a hundred feet deep! Think of a New York man to-day buying a lot of that size for two hundred and fifty dollars! My father says it would take a fortune to buy such a lot.

Henry Stuart.

My cousin and I had great fun reading about a family who took a long journey from New York to Albany. They went on a river steamer; started at daylight and reached Albany at sunset, and thought they had done a big thing. There were no railroads to ride on; not a single train going out of New York City! That was in 1827. It seems strange that such wonderful things can take place in one century. I think this is the grandest century we ever had.

Robert Campbell.

I spent a week in New York, and boarded very near Madison Square. I was on Twenty-third Street, pretty near to Fifth Avenue, and Broadway streaks across the city right there, so I had a chance to see almost everything; because those who know anything about New York City know that if you see what is on those streets, why, you have seen a good deal. It is Broadway and Fifth Avenue going criss-cross that make Madison Square. There are lots of hotels around there. The park is just magnificent; I like it better than Central Park, because it is right there, you know. There is a splendid fountain in the middle, and a drinking fountain somewhere else, and statues of Seward and Farragut. Seward is sitting down, and looks as though he didn’t care.

If I had room I could tell you lots of things about Madison Square; but since you only let us have a few lines, what will a fellow do? I’m going to the Christian Endeavor meeting in July, and that will give a good chance to study up that part of the city, because the meeting is to be in Madison Square.

David G. Dunlap.

My mother used to be a pupil in Cooper Institute, and when I went to New York a few months ago father took me to see it. It is very large; it cost more than six hundred thousand dollars. Peter Cooper built it about thirty-five years ago; and then he gave three hundred thousand dollars to keep the free library going which belongs to it. They have all sorts of schools in the building. You can learn how to telegraph, and to write on the type-writer, and how to draw and paint. My mother was in the painting school, and she paints beautifully. We went up to the reading-room; it is on the third floor; there are rows and rows and rows of books! It makes me dizzy to think of so many. The books are all covered, so they don’t look very pretty. There are long tables and lots of chairs; you are given a check made of brass, or tin, or something, when you go into the room; then if you want a book or magazine you go to the desk and ask for it, and give that check in return; you cannot get out of the room without that check, so you are apt to carry your book back when you are done with it, and get your check again. After all there are only about twenty thousand books on the shelves. I was disappointed; I thought there were millions.

Emmeline Andrews.

Dick Walters is in our “General Information” class, and when Trinity Church was talked about Dick declared he had been in the old building which was put there in 1697. I knew better, because my great-grandfather told about its being burned in the fire of 1776. But we couldn’t make Dick Walters give up the notion that he was in the very identical church built two hundred years ago. At last Professor Townley explained that it was the old site, but a new church built in 1846. Since we had our fuss about it I have been there myself. It is a splendid building, I think, if it isn’t two hundred years old. The steeple is two hundred and eighty-four feet high, and the chimes are lovely. It is an old brown church, and looks solemn and still; it is right on Broadway, but when you step inside it seems just as still! You can hear the birds chirp on the trees in the churchyard, though there is a terrible roar of noise outside. Alexander Hamilton is buried in Trinity churchyard.

Robert Paxton.

THE OBELISK.

I suppose everybody will write about Central Park; but I can’t help it, I want to tell some things about it myself. I was there in June. We went up to Fifty-ninth Street and Fifth Avenue and took a carriage. We drove through the Scholars’ Gate; this took us straight to the menagerie, and we saw the bear-pits and everything, though they say they don’t have the menagerie there any more. We took a row on the lake, and we saw the Bethesda Fountain with its real angel—well, I mean a carved one, of course—bending over the water. Then we walked through The Ramble, which I think is the loveliest part of the park, only they won’t let you break off the least little speck of a flower or leaf. There are lots of birds, and they seemed busier and happier than any birds I ever saw. We saw a sign directing us to the “Dairy,” so we went there and got some splendid milk and some bread and butter. We children wanted to go to “The Carousal”; that is a sign which points out the way to the children’s playground, where there are swings and everything; but father said we hadn’t time, and that we could have “carousals” enough at home.

Laura J. Westover.

Laura has written a letter about Central Park, and hasn’t mentioned the obelisk. Ho, ho! if that isn’t just like a girl. I have studied up about it since I was there. They had an awful time bringing it over here from Egypt. They had to cut a hole in the bow of the boat that brought it to get it in; and then mend the hole, of course, before they could start. And when the steamer reached New York it took thirty-two horses to draw just the pedestal down to Central Park!

VIEW OF MADISON SQUARE.

The carvings on the obelisk are called hieroglyphics, and used to mean writing; but scholars have had a great time trying to find out what the writing says. They don’t agree about it, but they think it is a lot of stuff about some heathen gods. There are carved hawks on the top of the column, and these are said to be the birds that belonged to one of the gods, because they could fly the highest and could look at the sun. The obelisk is sixty-nine feet high, and it weighs three hundred and twenty tons. I don’t exactly see what we wanted of it; but it is rather nice to look at it and think it came all the way from Egypt and was presented to us by Ismail Pasha.

Reuben T. Westover.

The nicest ride I had while in New York was along Fifth Avenue. We started at Washington Square and went up to Central Park. It is almost three miles, and all the way there were such beautiful houses and churches to look at, and the road was as smooth as the floor. We passed the white marble house built by A. T. Stewart; it cost three million dollars, and the people who now rent it pay thirty-seven thousand dollars a year for it. Only think! and we get three hundred a year for our house, and call it a good rent; but then, it didn’t cost three millions. Then we passed the elegant Vanderbilt houses, and the magnificent Lenox Library building, and O, dear! I can’t think what others. I thought I knew a great deal about them when I began, but they are all mixed up in my mind. But what I wanted to say was, that the drive from Washington Square away up to Eighty-first Street must certainly be the very splendidest in the world. I know I never saw so many beautiful buildings before; and I do like grand houses and grand churches and everything.

Kate W. Glover.

FIFTH AVENUE.

[It has been very difficult to select items for this paper, because of the wealth of objects to choose from. We could make the article twice as long just as well as not, out of the material we have, if there were only room for it in the magazine. Also, some of the best and brightest items have been omitted, and others perhaps not quite so interesting chosen in their place, because they spoke of some building which we could show you in picture. The Pansies will understand, I hope, that we fully appreciate their efforts to help us, and that we enjoy the many items which we do not use quite as much as those we select. But do please be more prompt with your letters.—Editors.]