CONTENTS OF NUMBER ONE HUNDRED.
| EDITOR'S PORTFOLIO | [96] | |
| THE BOY WHO LOVED HIS MOTHER | By Uncle Charles | [97] |
| FROWING AWAY ONE. | By E.M.S | [99] |
| HUNTING FOR EASTER-EGGS | [100] | |
| THE BEAUTIFUL SPRING | By George Cooper | [101] |
| OUR CHRISTMAS PLAY | [102] | |
| BABY'S PINK THUMBS | By Olive A. Wadsworth | [105] |
| ABOUT FLAX, BARLEY, AND RYE | [107] | |
| THE HARE WHO COULDN'T WAIT | [111] | |
| THE DRAWING-LESSON | [112] | |
| A SMART HORSE | [114] | |
| ABOUT SOME INDIANS | By Vaughn's Papa | [115] |
| THE FIRST-COMER | By Marian Douglas | [117] |
| WIDE AWAKE | By A.B.C | [118] |
| THE FIRST ATTEMPT | [120] | |
| THE CATARACT OF LODORE | By Robert Southey | [121] |
| BOILING MAPLE-SUGAR | By Uncle Charles | [123] |
| THE STOLEN BIRD'S-NEST | By Emily Carter | [125] |
| THE FIRST BLUE-BIRD | By Clara Doty Bates | [127] |
| THE LITTLE BIRD | (Music by T. Grampian) | [128] |
EDITOR'S PORTFOLIO.
The beautiful picture of The Cataract of Lodore, in our present number, is well illustrated by Southey's famous lines which were written for his little boys and girls, or, as he phrased it, "for the nursery."
We call special attention to the illustration of "The First Corner" on page [117]. It is a design by Perkins, exquisitely engraved by John Andrew & Son.
"The Boy who loved his mother" is another picture that is worthy of special notice. The "Drawing-Lesson" by Weir, should attract the attention of all children who want to learn to draw.
Canvassers will find from our terms that we offer them rare inducements for extending the circulation of "The Nursery." It is poor economy, even in the hardest times, for parents to neglect what may largely contribute to the education of their children.
"The Easy Book" and "The Beautiful Book," are now recognized as Standard works for the young, and continue to be in great demand. To these we shall soon add "The Nursery Primer," which will surpass everything of the kind yet got up.
"Next to a baby," writes a subscriber in Charlotte, Mich., "there never was such joy in a household as 'The Nursery.' My little girl will repeat nearly every poem, though she does not know a letter. My boy is just two, and such a yell of delight when he finds a 'bow-wow,' as he calls the dog, all to himself, would astonish a Piute Indian. I don't have to keep any 'cramp drops,' 'baby jumpers' or 'patent food,'(?) for the children. I find they never have an ail or grievance, but 'The Nursery' acts as a specific. I wish every mother in the land would give it to her children on trial. And really it makes old people feel quite sunny."
It will be seen by a notice in our advertising pages, that the Publisher of "The Nursery" is prepared to execute various commissions in the way of purchasing and forwarding books, Maps, Games, Stationery, &c., for parties desiring them.
THE BOY WHO LOVED HIS MOTHER.
THE BOY WHO LOVED HIS MOTHER
hen Felix was a little fellow, hardly two years old, he used to pet his mother, and tell her how much he loved her.
As he grew up, he showed his love by his acts. He minded his mother; he gave her his attention when she talked to him; and, if she told him not to do a thing, he would not do it.
If she said, "Felix, don't do that," he would not fret, and say, "Why not, mother?" Oh, no! He would at once give up what he was doing; for he knew she would not, without some good reason, forbid him to do a thing that pleased him.
Once, when Felix had grown to be six years old, his mother took him with her on a journey in the railroad-cars to New York. It was a fine day in June: the windows of the cars were open.
"Felix," said his mother, as they took their seats, "you may sit by the window; but you must not put your head or your arms out of it."
Before she could explain to him her reasons for saying this, a friend who had come in drew off her attention, by talking to her; so that she forgot to explain to Felix why she did not wish to have him put his head or arms out of the window.
In the seat just before him, Felix saw a large boy, who kept putting his head out, although the boy's mother kept telling him not to do it. By and by the cars rushed by a post, which stood so near the track that it almost grazed the boy's head. He started back in a great fright, losing his hat as he did so. He had a very narrow escape.
Felix now saw why his mother had given him the caution
she had. He took her hand in his, and looked up in her face. She smiled on him; for she knew what was passing in his mind.
"Yes, Felix," said she: "if you had not loved your mother too much to wound her by disobedience, you might have lost your life."
UNCLE CHARLES.
FROWING AWAY ONE.
I know three little girls who are sisters. Of course, they ought to love each other dearly. When they stand up, they are like a flight of three steps: baby is the lowest; Mattie is the middle step; and Susie is the upper step, because she is tallest.
The baby is four years old, I know: so I guess that Mattie is almost six, and Susie a little more than seven.
No two of you little people love each other more dearly than Mattie and baby love each other. Where one is, the other always wants to be. They sit and walk with their arms around each other. It is pleasant to see them.
They both dearly love Susie too; but she is bigger, and doesn't seem to belong quite so much to them as they seem to belong to each other.
One day their mamma was looking at them; and, thinking aloud, she said, "Three little girls! What shall I do with so many? Don't you think I have too many?"
Then baby looked earnestly into her mother's face, and said, "O, mamma! if you must frow one away, do frow away Susie."
Never you fear, little people, that Susie will be "frowed" away. Her mamma has not one too many, though she has three little girls.
E.M.S.
HUNTING FOR EASTER-EGGS.
The Easter-egg is a painted or colored egg used for a present at Easter, a day which occurs on Sunday, the second day after Good-Friday.
The term "Easter" is said to be derived from a Saxon word meaning rising; and Easter is a festival of the Christian Church to commemorate the resurrection.
In the picture, the children are hunting for Easter-eggs, which the good mother has hidden in different parts of the room. The child who finds the most eggs will have the pleasure of making presents of them to whom he or she may choose.
Baby has set his eyes on the egg that lies on the floor. If he takes it up, I hope he will not let it fall, and break it. The other children will not be slow to find the painted eggs. There must be a dozen, or more, of them hidden away.
OUR CHRISTMAS PLAY.
Our Emily wrote a play for our Christmas entertainment. Emily, Ruth, Mary, and Uncle Peter, all took part in it. The curtain fell amid very great applause from grandma, grandpa, father, and Uncle Charles, Brothers Robert and John, Jane, the housemaid, Aunt Alice, and some six of our cousins. So you see we had a good audience. As it is the only play we have ever seen acted, we may be too partial critics; but readers must judge for themselves.
(EMILY enters with a basket of shoestrings)
EMILY.—Shoestrings to sell! Does anybody want shoestrings? Dear me, how cold it is! To-morrow is Christmas, and I must earn money enough to buy a basket of coal. Who wants a nice pair of shoestrings?
RUTH (entering).—This is a cold day, little girl, and you are thinly clad. Now, if my Uncle Peter, were here I know what he would do: he would buy you a shawl.
EMILY.—As soon as I get rich, I mean to buy one myself. Can I sell you a pair of shoestrings?
RUTH.—What is the price?
EMILY.—Only two cents a pair.
RUTH.—Then you may give me three pairs. Here are six cents. (Takes out her purse, and pays EMILY, but, in putting it back, lets it fall on the ground.)
EMILY.—Thank you; and a merry Christmas to you!
RUTH.—I wish I could make your Christmas a merry one, poor child; but I have done what I could. Good-by. (Goes out.)
EMILY.—Oh, if more such customers would come along, how glad I should be! Will any one buy a nice pair of shoestrings? (Sees the purse, and picks it up.) What is this on the ground? A purse! And it has money in it. One dollar, three dollars—Dear me! That young lady must have dropped it. I must run and give it to her. Where is she? (Puts down her basket, and goes out.)
(MARY enters, and looks at the basket.)
MARY.—A basket on the sidewalk! What does it mean? (Takes it up.) It is full of shoestrings. I will take it to my mother, and ask her
to find the owner. (MARY takes up the basket, and is going out, when RUTH enters.)
RUTH.—Are you the girl I bought shoestrings of?
MARY.—No: I have not sold any. These are not mine.
RUTH.—Have you seen any thing of a purse about here?
MARY.—No: I have seen no purse. (Goes off-with the basket.)
RUTH.—- Oh! here comes the little girl I was looking for; and she has my purse in her hand. (Enter EMILY.) That is my purse, little girl.
EMILY (giving RUTH the purse).—Take it. I was looking for you. But where is my basket of shoestrings?
RUTH.—Why, that little girl yonder has it. See her there, crossing the street.
EMILY.—It is my basket. She has taken what does not belong to her.
RUTH.—Run, and bring her to me. (EMILY starts to go out.) Stop! What is your name?
EMILY.—Emily Swift.
RUTH.—Well, Emily Swift, I think you are mistaken in supposing that the little girl meant to steal your basket. Bring her to me. (EMILY goes out.) What a pleasant thing it would be to have a purse so full, that one could keep on giving from it, and never find it empty! But here come the children.
(EMILY leads in MARY).
EMILY.—Here she is. She says she was taking the basket to her mother, so that her mother might find the owner.
RUTH.—And do you doubt her word?
EMILY.—Doubt her word? Not I! She is too good a little girl to tell a falsehood. Just look in her face, and you will see that she speaks the truth.
RUTH.—Yes, Emily Swift, you are right.
EMILY.—Goodness me! What is that thing coming this way?
MARY.—I am afraid of it. Is it a man?
RUTH.—As I live, it is Uncle Peter!
EMILY.—Who is Uncle Peter?
RUTH.—He is the man, who, every Christmas, buys as many toys as he can carry, and gives them to good children. Here he comes.
(Enter UNCLE PETER, comically dressed, and covered from head to foot with all sorts of toys, he is followed by boys and girls. He dances and sings to music.)