Then the cow ran one way and the pig ran another. The little chickens got lost in the bushes, and the rabbit hid in the vines. The hen cackled, and the pig squealed, and the gardener scolded. By the time he had driven them all out of the garden the sun was high in the sky.
“Umph, umph,” cried the little pig, as he scampered down the road, “we will all come back to-morrow.”
But when they went back the next day the garden gate was fastened close, and not even the smallest chicken could get inside.
[D] From “More Winter Stories,” by Maud Lindsay; used by permission of the publishers, Milton Bradley Company, Springfield, Mass.
THE TRAVELS OF THE LITTLE TOY SOLDIER
BY CAROLYN SHERWIN BAILEY
He was the largest and the best dressed and the bravest looking of all the toy soldiers in the toy shop. Some of the toy soldiers were made of paper, and these tore easily if they even tried to drill. Some of the toy soldiers were made of tin, and these bent if they had an encounter.
But this toy soldier, who stood head and shoulders above the others, was made of wood. He had once been part of a great pine tree that stood in the forest, and his heart was as brave and true as the heart of the tree.
His trousers were painted green, with yellow stripes; and his jacket was painted red, with gold buttons. He wore a painted blue cap upon the side of his head, with a band that went under his chin, and he carried a wooden gun in one arm. He could stand alone, for his wooden legs were glued to a block of wood, and his eyes were black and shining, and his mouth was painted in a smile.