One day Fred found an old saddle in the stable; and he proposed to Bertie to help him put it on the calf, and have a ride the length of her rope. They succeeded in fastening it upon Buttercup's smooth back; and Freddie exclaimed with delight, "Now we will have a first-class circus!"
They brought a chair from the house, and placed it by the side of Miss Cow, she looking wonderingly at them with great round eyes. The boys both stood together in the chair, and Fred said, "Now I will count, and, when I say four, we must spring upon the saddle. One—two—three—four;" and on they went.
But, before they could have said "five" Miss Buttercup's heels were in the air, and her head went down so quickly, that Master Fred felt a sudden chill, and found himself in a tub of rain-water that stood under the eaves of the wood-shed; while Bertie went head-foremost into a pan of meal and water.
A slight noise followed their fall. Their uncle and aunt appeared. The saddle was sent back to the stable, and the boys did not engage Buttercup for any more circus performances that summer.
Mamma Maggie.
AT SEA.
Bark "Murray," Pacific Ocean, December, 1876.
Dear Nursery,—I am making a voyage, on a sailing vessel from San Francisco to the Sandwich Islands. We have been on the water for three weeks.
Every day at noon, if the sun shines, the captain comes up on deck with a queer thing in his hand, which he calls a sextant. With this he looks at the sun, and finds out just where on this great ocean we are, and just how far we have gone in the last twenty-four hours. To-day he says we are three hundred miles from Honolulu.