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LITTLE RED HEN
L
ITTLE Red Hen found a grain of wheat.
"Who will plant this?" she asked.
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the rat.
"Then I will," said Little Red Hen.
So she buried the wheat in the ground. After a while it
grew up yellow and ripe.
"The wheat is ripe now," said Little Red Hen. "Who
will cut and thresh it?"
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the rat.
"Then I will," said Little Red Hen.
So she cut it with her bill and threshed it with her wings.
Then she asked, "Who will take this wheat to the mill?"
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the rat.
"Then I will," said Little Red Hen.
So she took the wheat to the mill, where it was ground.
Then she carried the flour home.
"Who will make me some bread with this flour?" she asked.
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the rat.
"Then I will," said Little Red Hen.
So she made and baked the bread.
Then she said, "Now we shall see who will eat this bread."
"We will," said cat, goose, and rat.
"I am quite sure you would," said Little Red Hen, "if you
could get it."
Then she called her chicks, and they ate up all the bread.
There was none left at all for the cat, or the goose, or the rat.
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IN SEARCH OF A BABY
BY F. TAPSELL
"P
LEASE, I'm lost." These words, and a thump! thump!
on the door were what Mrs. Stone heard as she sat at
supper in her tiny house in the wood.
She went to open the door, and there she saw a dear little
girl about three years old.
"Please, I'm lost," again came the words, and two fat little
fists went up to a pair of big blue eyes.
"Come in, little girl, and tell me all about it," said the
woman. "Maybe I can help you to find your way."
The child let herself be led into the room; then all at once
the two tiny fists came down from the two blue eyes, and she
gave a quick look at the table.
"Are you having supper?" she said. "May I have supper
too? I am ever so hungry."
"Yes, dear; of course you shall have some," was the reply.
"See, you shall sit on this chair by my side. Now what will
you have?"
"I think I would like some bread and butter with sugar on
it—brown sugar, you know;" and soon the little girl was as
happy as could be.
"What is your name, dear?" asked Mrs. Stone, when
supper was over and the little girl had begun to think once
more about how she was to find her way home.
"Meg," was the reply.
"But your other name, for you must have two names."
"No, my name is just Meg, of course; I don't have any
other name," she said, a look of wonder in the big blue eyes.
"Do you know where you live?"
"Yes; I lives in the nursery. Didn't you know that?"
She was so sure that it did not seem any good to say any
more about it. So Mrs. Stone only asked, "Where were you
going when you came to my house?"
"To find a baby," was the reply. "Rob said that if I went
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to a house in the wood they would give me one. Have you got
a baby to give me?"
"No, dear; I am afraid I have not. But why do you want
a baby? I am sure you have lots of dolls."
"Yes, of course I have; but then you see dolls are not
alive. I want a real baby to play with.
"Enid won't play with me much now, for she says I am
too small, and Rob is at school all the time."
"Why, who is that?" said a voice, and a man came in with
a bag of tools.
Then the two little fists again went up to the blue eyes,
for the little maid was shy of this great big man.
"Well, wife, so you have a friend, I see," he said. "Who
is the little lass?"
"I don't know," said his wife. "It seems she was lost, and
came here to ask her way. She says she came to find a baby."
"Come here, little one, and don't be afraid," said the man.
"There never was a child yet who would not come to me,"
and as he spoke he drew her on to his knee. "Now, then, tell
me all about it."
After one glance at the man's kind face Meg nestled up to
him and began,—
"Nurse was so busy she could not be in the room with me.
"So I put on my hat and came to look for a baby; but I
got lost on the way. At last I came to the wood and saw this
house. She could not give me a baby as Rob said she would,
but she gave me some tea, and bread and butter with sugar on
it. We only have that on Sunday at home. Is this Sunday?"
"No, little miss," said the man. "But I expect you had it
just for a treat, as you had got lost."
But just then steps were heard on the path, and there was
a sharp knock at the door.
The latch was lifted, and a voice said,—
"Have you seen a little girl in a white frock pass this way?"
"Why, that must be Nurse," cried Meg.
In spite of being cross at Meg's having run away, Nurse
had to laugh; then she bent down and said, "But what made
you run away like this, Miss Meg?"
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"Rob told me that if I came to the house in the wood I
should find a real live baby; but he was wrong, for she," with
a smile at Mrs. Stone, "is very nice, but she has not got a
baby to give me."
"Of course not, child; but do you know that I have some
news for you?"
"What is it? Do tell me?" cried the little girl.
"While you were away in the wood to look for a baby we
have found a baby at home. You have a new baby brother.
Come home with me now and you shall see him."
"A new little brother," said Meg, her eyes wide open with
wonder. "He must have known I had gone out to look for
one. So now I have got two new friends and a baby too.
Come along, quick."
"Good-bye," she said to her new friends. "Thank you
ever so much for being so kind, and for the supper.
"I am coming to have supper with you again soon, and
then I will bring the new baby with me. You will give me
and baby bread and butter with sugar on it, won't you?" and
Meg trotted off as happy as a little queen.
JOCK AND I AND THE OTHERS
F
IRST of all, I must tell you who I am.
My name is PE-NEL-O-PE, but Jock always calls me Pen.
I am eight years old; Jock is half-past six.
We live with mother and father and Rover and Tibby in a
house not very far from a large city.
Mother is the nicest person I know in all the world.
Father is a very big man. He always has lots of money
in his pocket. He goes to business in a train every day.
We have a real farm, quite near to our house, where they
keep cows, chickens, pigs, horses, and geese. Jock and I often
go to see them all.
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One day in summer we went to see the farmer. I had my
blue dress on, so that the cows would not be angry when they
saw me.
We met the farmer near the stable. "Come," he said; "I
have something to show you to-day."
"What is it?" we said both at the same time.
"Come and see," was all that he would say.
Then he took us into the stable where he keeps Nobby,
the big brown horse, who likes sugar.
Now Nobby was not there, but in the straw were seven
little puppy dogs—oh, so sweet and cuddly!
Jock danced round and round the farmer. "May we have
one?" he said.
"Ask mother," said the farmer, and off we ran at once.
Mother was at the garden gate.
We ran up to her. Jock was first, but it was nearly a dead
heat. Mother opened the gate and said,—
"Well, what have you seen to-day?"
"O mother," said Jock, out of breath.
"O mother dear" I said, out of breath also.
"Farmer has such lovely puppies," we both said at once.
"May we have one to keep?"
By this time we both had our arms round mother's waist,
and she was laughing.
"Yes, we can," I said, for I knew.
"If father says yes," said mother. "You must ask him
when he comes home."
So we went to the station to meet him. Jock took his bag,
and I took his paper parcel to carry it home for him.
On the way home I asked him if he liked dogs, and he
said, "Of course."
Then Jock said, "Little dogs?"
"Oh, yes."
"Puppy dogs?"
"One at a time is all right."
"One puppy dog with brown spots on white?" Jock went on.
"Where is it?" asked father, and his eyes were laughing;
you could not see his mouth for his beard.
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Then we told him, and he said "Yes," just at the garden
gate. So that was how we got Rover.
Rover was very soft and downy when he first came to us.
But he soon grew to be a big dog.
Jock and I taught him many tricks; and he can beg very
nicely, if we let him get on the couch in the dining-room.
We put sugar on his nose, and he waits until we count One,
Two, THREE.
Then he throws the sugar into the air and catches it.
DOLLY DIMPLE
BY F. TAPSELL
"O
H dear, I am so lonely, and it is so dark! I do want my
dear Dolly Dimple. I think I will go and fetch her."
And little four-year-old Babs got out of bed and felt her way
to the door.
The door was just a wee crack open. As she peeped in,
Babs saw that there was a light in the room, and the sight
which met her eyes almost made her cry out.
On the floor stood Dolly Dimple in her very best frock,
and Mr. Jollyman was asking her to dance with him.
Teddy Bear was at work on the big drum, and the clown
was turning the organ to make music for the dolls to dance to.
The tin soldiers, on the backs of cows, pigs, and sheep
from the Noah's Ark were having a sham fight.
The dolls from the dolls' house were going for a ride in
the big horse and cart.
"It is too bad of them to go and have a good time like this
when I am in bed," thought Babs, "and I am going to take
Dolly Dimple away with me all the same."
But when she tried to pick up the doll and carry her off,
Mr. Jollyman flew at her in a fury.
He began to kick her bare legs till Babs thought she would
have no shins left at all; but she would not run away.
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"I want Dolly Dimple," she said. "She is my doll, and
you have no right to try to keep her away from me."
"She is yours in the day, but not at night," was the reply.
"How do you think we toys could live if we had no life
but the one we endure at your hands? It is in the night that
we live and have our good times, for we know you are safe in
bed then."
"I don't care what you say; I will have her," cried Babs,
very angry now.
She tried once more to get hold of Dolly Dimple; but before
she could do so, Mr. Jollyman turned to the soldiers,
and said the one word, "Charge."
There was a great noise and a rush, and right down upon
the little girl came camels, horses, lions, tigers, sheep, and
pigs.
But just as she thought her last hour was come, she heard,
the word "Halt," and then the sound of Dolly Dimple saying,
"No, don't kill her. She is very good to me most of the time."
The rest of the dolls had begun to dance once more, but
Dolly Dimple came up to the little girl and took hold of her
arm.
"I am queen here in the night," she said. "I will not hurt
you, as you have been good to me, and I know you love me.
If you like, I will come and stay with you till you go to sleep.
Pick me up."
So Babs picked up the doll, and took it back to bed with
her, and hugged it in her arms.
THE TALE OF PETER RABBIT
BY BEATRIX POTTER
O
NCE upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their
names were—Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-Tail, and Peter.
They lived with their Mother in a sandbank, underneath the
root of a very big fir-tree.
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"Now, my dears," said old Mrs. Rabbit, one morning, "you
may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr.
McGregor's garden: your Father had an accident there; he
was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor."
"Now run along, and don't get into mischief. I am going
out."
Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella and
went through the wood to the baker's. She bought a loaf of
brown bread and five currant buns.
Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, who were good little bunnies,
went down the lane to gather blackberries.
But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to
Mr. McGregor's garden, and squeezed under the gate!
First he ate some lettuces and some French beans, and
then he ate some radishes; and then, feeling rather sick, he
went to look for some parsley.
But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he
meet but Mr. McGregor!
Mr. McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out
young cabbages, but he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving
a rake and calling out, "Stop, thief!"
Peter was most dreadfully frightened; he rushed all over
the garden, for he had forgotten the way back to the gate.
He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other
shoe amongst the potatoes.
After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster,
so that I think he might have got away altogether if he had
not unfortunately run into a gooseberry net, and got caught
by the large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue jacket with
brass buttons, quite new.
Peter gave himself up for lost, and shed big tears; but his
sobs were overheard by some friendly sparrows, who flew to
him in great excitement, and implored him to exert himself.
Mr. McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended
to pop upon the top of Peter, but Peter wriggled out just in
time, leaving his jacket behind him; and rushed into the tool-shed,
and jumped into a can. It would have been a beautiful
thing to hide in, if it had not had so much water in it.
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Mr. McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere
in the tool-shed, perhaps hidden underneath a flower-pot. He
began to turn them over carefully, looking under each.
Presently Peter sneezed—"Kerty-schoo!" Mr. McGregor
was after him in no time, and tried to put his foot upon Peter,
who jumped out of a window, upsetting three plants. The
window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of
running after Peter. He went back to his work.
Peter sat down to rest; he was out of breath and trembling
with fright, and he had not the least idea which way to go.
Also he was very damp with sitting in that can.
After a time he began to wander about, going lippity-lippity—not
very fast, and looking all around.
He found a door in a wall; but it was locked, and there
was no room for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath.
An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep,
carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter
asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a large pea
in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her
head at him. Peter began to cry.
Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden,
but he became more and more puzzled. Presently, he came
to a pond where Mr. McGregor filled his water-cans. A white
cat was staring at some goldfish; she sat very, very still, but
now and then the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive.
Peter thought it best to go away without speaking to her; he
had heard about cats from his cousin, little Benjamin Bunny.
He went back toward the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite
close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe—scr-r-ritch, scratch,
scratch, scratch. Peter scuttered underneath the bushes. But,
presently, as nothing happened, he came out, and climbed upon
a wheelbarrow, and peeped over. The first thing he saw was
Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was turned toward
Peter, and beyond him was the gate!
Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow, and
started running as fast as he could go, along a straight walk
behind some black-currant bushes.
Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but
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Peter did not care. He slipped underneath the gate, and was
safe at last in the wood outside the garden.
Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for
a scarecrow to frighten the blackbirds.
Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he
got home to the big fir-tree.
He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft
sand on the floor of the rabbit-hole, and shut his eyes.
His mother was busy cooking; she wondered what he had
done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair
of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight!
I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the
evening.
His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea;
and she gave a dose of it to Peter!
"One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time."
But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk
and blackberries for supper.
THE MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR ASS
O
NCE upon a time there was a miller who lived in a little
house beside his mill. All day long he worked hard, but
at night he went home to his wife and his little boy.
One day this miller made up his mind that he would take
his ass to the fair and sell it. So he and his boy said farewell
to the dame and started off. They had not gone far when they
met a number of girls coming from the town.
"Look!" said one of them. "Did you ever see such stupid
fellows? They are walking when one of them might be riding."
When the miller heard this he bade the boy get up on the
ass, while he tramped along merrily by its side. Soon they
came to a number of old men standing by the side of the road
talking together.
"Look at that," said one of them, "Look at that young
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rascal riding, while his poor father has to walk. Get down,
you idle fellow, and let your father ride."
Upon this the son got down from the ass, and the miller
took his place. They had not gone very far when they met
two women coming home from market.
"You lazy old man!" they cried at once. "How dare you
ride when your poor little boy is walking and can hardly keep
pace with you?"
Then the miller, who was a good-natured man, took his son
up behind him, and in this way they went to the town.
"My good fellow," said a townsman whom they met, "is
that ass your own?"
"Yes," replied the miller.
"I should not have thought so, by the way you load him,"
said the man. "Why, you two are better able to carry the
beast than he is to carry you."
"Well," said the miller, "we can but try."
So he and his son got down, and tied the legs of the ass
together. Then they slung him on a pole, and carried him on
their shoulders. It was such a funny sight that the people
laughed and jeered at them.
The poor ass was very uncomfortable, and tried hard to
get off the pole. At last, as they were passing over a bridge,
he pulled his legs out of the rope and tumbled to the ground.
He was so frightened that he jumped off the bridge into the
river and was drowned.
Do you know what this story teaches you?
If you try to please everybody, you will please nobody.
THE VISIT TO SANTA CLAUS LAND
J
ACK and Margaret were growing more excited each day,
because Christmas was so near. They talked of nothing
but Santa Claus.
"Don't you wish you could see him?" they said over and
over.
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One night, just before Christmas, Mother tucked them in
bed and left them to go to sleep. But Jack wiggled, Margaret
wriggled. At last they both sat up in bed.
"Jack," Margaret whispered, "are you asleep?"
"No," said Jack, "I can't go to sleep. Margaret, don't you
wish you could see Santa Claus? What's that?"
They both listened, and they heard a little tap, tap on the
window. They looked, and there, right in the window, they
saw a funny little Brownie.
"What's that I heard you say? You want to see Santa
Claus? Well, I am one of his Brownies. I am on my way
back to Santa Claus Land. I'll take you with me if you want
to go."
Jack and Margaret scrambled from their beds.
"Come on, show us the way!" they cried in great excitement.
"No, indeed," said the Brownie. "No one must know the
way to Santa Claus Land. Kindly wait a moment."
Then the Brownie took something soft and thick and dark,
and tied it around Jack's eyes. Next he took something soft
and thick and dark, and tied it around Margaret's eyes.
"How many fingers before you?" he asked.
Both of them shook their heads. They could not see a
wink.
"Very well, now we're off," said the Brownie.
He took Jack's hand on one side, and Margaret's on the
other. It seemed as if they flew through the window. They
went on swiftly for a little while, then the Brownie whirled
them round and round until they were dizzy, and off they
went again. The children could not tell whether they were
going north, south, east, or west. After a time they stopped.
"Here we are," said the Brownie.
He uncovered their eyes, and the children saw that they
were standing before a big, thick gate.
The Brownie knocked and the gate was swung open. They
went through it, right into Santa Claus's garden.
It was a very queer garden. There were rows and rows
of Christmas trees, all glittering with balls and cobwebby
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tinsel, and instead of flower beds there were beds of every
kind of toy in the world. Margaret at once ran over to a
bed of dolls.
"Let's see if any of them are ripe," said the Brownie.
"Ripe?" said Margaret in great surprise.
"Why, of course," said the Brownie. "Now if this one
is ripe it will shut its eyes."
The Brownie picked a little doll from the bed and laid it
in Margaret's arms. Its eyes went half shut, and then stuck.
"No, it's not ripe yet," said the Brownie. "Try this one."
He picked another one, and this one shut its eyes just as
if it had gone to sleep.
"We'll take that one," he said, and he dropped it into a
big sack he was carrying.
"Now this one cries, if it's ripe," he said as he picked a
lovely infant doll. The Brownie gave it a squeeze, and the
doll made a funny squeaking noise.
"Not quite ripe," he said, and he put it back into the bed.
He tried several others, and he picked a good many. Some
of them cried, some said "Mamma" and "Papa," and some
danced when they were wound up.
"Oh, do come over here, Margaret!" Jack called.
Margaret ran over to another bed and there were drums—big
drums, little drums, and middle sized drums; yellow
drums, blue drums, green drums, red drums.
"Can we gather some of these?" said Jack to the Brownie.
"Why, of course. Let's see if this one is ripe."
The Brownie took up a little red drum, and gave it a
thump with a drum stick. But it made such a queer sound
that Jack and Margaret both laughed out loud. The little red
drum was put back into the bed, and the Brownie tried another
big one. It went Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
and Jack and Margaret marched all along the bed, keeping
step to it.
When they had finished picking drums, they went over to
a bed filled with horns. That was the most fun of all. Some
of them made very queer noises, and on some the Brownie
played jolly little tunes.
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The next bed they came to was filled with toys which
could be wound up. There were trains, automobiles, dancing
dolls, climbing monkeys, hopping birds, funny wobbling ducks,
and every kind of toy you could think of. The children stayed
at this bed for a long time.
At last Margaret said: "But where is Santa Claus? We
wanted to see him."
"Oh, to be sure," said the Brownie. "Come along," and
he led them down a long, winding walk, to the edge of the
garden. Then he pointed to a hill in the distance.
"Do you see that large white house? There is where he
lives."
The children stared at it. It was so white that it seemed
to shine in the distance.
"Walk right across here," said the Brownie, "then up the
hill to Santa Claus's house."
"Oh, must we walk across there?" said Margaret. She
stared down at the deep dark chasm between the garden and
the hill; across it was stretched a narrow plank.
"Walk carefully," said the Brownie, "and mind you don't
look down; for if you do, I'm afraid you won't see Santa
Claus to-night."
"We'll be very careful," said Jack. "Come along, Margaret,"
and he took his little sister's hand and they started
across the plank.
They had almost reached the middle of it when Jack looked
down.
"Oh!" he said, and gave Margaret a pull.
She looked down too, and cried "Oh, Oh!" and down,
down, down they went.
Suddenly they landed with a thump. They sat up and
rubbed their eyes. There they were right in their own beds
at home. Mother opened the door.
"Are you awake, children?" she said.
"Oh, Mother, we haven't been asleep. We've been to
Santa Claus Land, and we nearly saw Santa Claus!"
Then they told her all about it, and Mother just smiled.
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