TO SEA IN A TUB.
Here is a picture of a boy trying his new boat in a tub of water. His brothers and sisters are looking on. His elder brother seems to be pointing out some fault in the rig of the boat. Perhaps he thinks the sails are too large. The dog Tray takes a good deal of interest in the matter. I wonder what he thinks of it.
But the story I am going to tell you is about a little girl named Emma, and what happened one day, when she went out in the yard to play. Her mother had told her not to go outside the gate: so she looked around the doorway to see what she could find to play with. There stood a great tub full of water; and there, close by, was a pile of chips. "Boats!" said Emma to herself: "I'll sail boats!"
It didn't take a minute to get six of the nicest chips well afloat; but after all they were not much better than rafts.
"I must put on sails," said Emma. And running into the sitting-room, and getting some pins, and then putting a bit of paper on each pin, and sticking a pin upright in each chip, at last she had her little boats with little sails, going straight across the tub with a fair wind.
Once a fly alighted on one of the boats, and took quite a long voyage. That made Emma think of trying to find other passengers; and she picked up a great ground beetle, and put him aboard. Poor beetle! he didn't want to go, and he wasn't used to it. He tumbled about on the deck; the boat tipped under him, and the next thing Emma knew he was overboard.
"Oh, he mustn't drown!" she cried. "I must get him out!" And she stooped over in great haste to save the poor beetle. But it was a large tub, and a very deep one too; and what did little Emma know about being careful? She lost her balance, and down into the water she went, with a great splash that wrecked all the boats in the same instant. "Mother, mother!" screamed a choking, sputtering voice, as Emma managed to lift her head.
Her mother heard it, and flew to the spot. It didn't take long to get Emma into the warm kitchen, to pull off the wet clothes, to wrap her in a blanket, and set her before the fire in the big rocking-chair, with a bowl of hot ginger-tea to drink. There Emma sat, and steamed, and begged for stories. By eleven o'clock she couldn't stand it any longer, and by noon she was out in the yard again, playing tea-party, and not one whit the worse for her sudden cold bath. But what became of the poor beetle?