[!-- original location of illustration ANIMAL LIFE FROM EVERY ZONE --]

OUR YOUNG FOLKS
AT HOME AND ABROAD:

Illustrated Sketches and Poems
for Young People.

BY

ANNIE D. BELL, CLARA J. DENTON, AMANDA M. DOUGLAS,
FRANK H. SELDEN, CHAS. T. JEROME, LAURA
E. RICHARDS, MRS. L. A. CURTIS,
OLIVER OPTIC, ETC.

ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS.

BY

F. S. CHURCH, E. H. GARRETT, A. S. COX, CULMER BARNES,
PARKER HAYDEN, H. MOSER, H. PRUETT SHARE,
MISS L. B. HUMPHREY, ETC., ETC.

——————
EDITED BY
DAPHNE DALE.
——————

LONDON—NEW YORK—CHICAGO:
W. B. CONKEY COMPANY,
PUBLISHERS.

——————
Copyright 1894,
W. B. Conkey Company.
——————

ANIMAL LIFE FROM EVERY ZONE.

[THE KITTENS’ STEPMOTHER]
[HOW SOME SEEDS ARE PLANTED]
[OLD SCORES REPAID, OR TRAGEDY REVERSED]
[TIPPY, THE FIREMEN’S DOG]
[NINE LITTLE FOXES]
[WHAT AILED THE BELL]
[THE HOOK AND LADDER]
[LITTLE JOE’S RIDE]
[GYPSY AND HIS TRICKS]
[A LITTLE GIRL’S WEDDING GIFT]
[DO RIGHT]
[DOG PRINCE]
[WHERE THE PRETTY PATH LED]
[A LETTER TO MOTHER NATURE]
[OUR MAY-DAY AT THE SOUTH]
[BERTIE’S STORY AND MINE]
[THE PORCUPINE’S QUILLS]
[LOVE YOUR ENEMIES]
[THE MERCIFUL PRINCE]
[THE OPOSSUM IN THE HEN-HOUSE]
[HOW ROY WENT A FISHING]
[A BEAR-STORY]
[HEAR US SING, SEE US SWING, UP IN THE OLD OAK TREE]
[SAILOR BABIES]
[PRETTY POLLY PRIMROSE]
[LOOK AT THE BABY]
[AN UNLUCKY SAIL]
[TO STRAWBERRY TOWN]
[FLOSSIE AND HER SHOE-BOAT]
[NELLIE’S LUNCH]
[DIME AND THE BABY]
[WIDE-AWAKE LAND]
[LULU’S FIRST THANKSGIVING]
[THE SUN-KISS]
[THE COUNTRY WEEK]
[THE ROAD TO SCHOOL]
[WHAT SAMMY’S MONKEY DID]
[BESSIE IN THE MOUNTAINS]
[PAULINE’S STRANGE PETS]
[“GO HALVES!”]
[LITTLE GAMES]
[WHAT WE FOUND IN OUR STOVE]
[THE JOHN AND LINCOLN FLEET]
[THE YACHT STARLIGHT]
[THE NEW PARASOL]
[THE MAN WHO WAS SHAKEN BY A LION]
[THE LAUGHING JACKASS]
[THE TRICK THEY PLAYED ON JOCKO]
[SOME OTHER THINGS BOBBY SAW AT SEA]
[THE MOSQUITO]
[THE LAUGHING GIRL]
[ANNIE’S DUCKS]
[VICK IN TROUBLE]
[IN GRANDMA’S ATTIC]
[LITTLE GIRL GRACIE]
[A MAGPIE AND HER NEST]
[AT THE BEACH]
[FARMER GRAY AND HIS APPLES]
[AH KEE]
[DICK AND GRAY]
[THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS]
[FIRST REWARD OF MERIT]
[FOUR LITTLE MICE]
[FINNETTE]
[ABOUT THE DEER]
[EVERYBODY’S DOG]
[A BIRD’S NEST]
[A RAINY DAY]
[THE STORY OF A CANE]
[MISS LOLLIPOP’S FANCIES]
[TOMMY’S TEMPTATION]
[A BEAR STORY]
[ANNA’S BIRTHDAY GIFT]
[RALPH AND THE BUTTERFLIES]
[A POEM]
[TOM’S LETTER]
[JANEY’S PRESENT]
[GOOD OLD ROSE]
[AUNT PATTY’S PETS]
[TOMMY AND THE GANDER]
[A NIGHT VISITOR]
[THE NIGHT MONKEY]
[BABY’S NAP]
[HURRAH! HURRAH!]
[MOSES GOES TO A CANDY PARTY]
[FAN’S CARDS:—A CHRISTMAS HINT]
[KITTY’S TRAMP]
[THREE ROYAL CHILDREN]
[AN OSTRICH PLUME]
[WHO KILLED THE GOOSE?]
[A TEMPERANCE HORSE]
[HOW THE WIND BLOWS]
[DIME AND BETTY]
[SAVED FROM FREEZING TO DEATH]
[LILY’S GARDEN]
[WHERE?]
[A GOAT IN TROUBLE]
[A NEGRO MELODIST]
[TIME ENOUGH]
[THE MOUSE WEDDING]
[SHE HAD NEVER SEEN A TREE]
[A FUNNY HORSE]
[MRS. GIMSON’S SUMMER BOARDERS]
[AS NIGHT CAME DARKLY DOWN]
[GRANDMOTHER’S CLOCK]
[A STUFFED JUMBO]
[THE TREES IN SILVER LAND]
[SMALL BEGINNINGS]
[GARDEN OF THE GODS]
[YOUNG ARTIST]
[A CHANCE WORD]
[A LITTLE DANCE]
[LOOKING OUT FOR NUMBER ONE]
[WOODCROFT]
[IN THE WOODS]
[AUTUMN LEAVES, AND WHAT KATIE DID]
[THE SPINNING LESSON]
[FOSTER PARENTS]
[HAYMAKING]
[WINDOW GARDENING]
[“CHEER UP.”]
[WAIF’S ROMANCE]
[“MAY I GO WITH YOU?”]
[A SUMMER AT WILLOW-SPRING]
[GREAT EXPECTATIONS]
[“WHERE’S SOPHIE?”]
[“IF I CAN, I WILL.”]
[WINDSOR CASTLE]
[THE LITTLE PRINCES]
[THE TOWER OF LONDON]
[MARY AND HER LAMB]
[JAMIE’S GARDEN]
[CAMP TRIO]
[THE SENTIMENTAL FOX]
[EARTHEN VESSELS]
[BIRDIE’S BREAKFAST]
[A BATTLE]
[GRACE DARLING, THE HEROINE]
[ADAM AND EVE]
[SWINGING SONG]
[HOW THE DAYS WENT AT SEA-GULL BEACH]
[MAX AND BEPPO]
[PANSIES]
[“COME, LITTLE BIRD!”]
[SIRENA’S TROUBLE]
[LADY VIOLET]
[ON TRIAL]
[TWO LITTLE GIRLS]
[HELPFUL WORDS]
[FALSE SHAME]
[CLARA AND THE ANIMAL BOOK]
[AN ANECDOTE]
[THE UNSOCIABLE DUCKS]
[PUTTING OUT THE CANDLE]
[SULKY ARCHIE]
[A WISH FOR WINGS]
[CONSEQUENCES: A PARABLE]
[COMFORTABLE MRS. CROOK]
[AN EVENING SONG]
[“BUT THEN.”]
[AN ANECDOTE]
[WHAT THE SNAIL SAID]
[ONLY NOW AND THEN]
[A SERPENT AMONG THE BOOKS]
[“LITTLE MOTHER.”]
[LITTLE SCATTER]
[WHAT CHICKY THINKS]
[STOP-A-WHILE]
[THE BIRDS’ CONCERT]
[ONLY A BOY]
[BIRD NEEDLEWORK]
[HE WAS A GENTLEMAN]
[TIME FOR BED]
[THE VALUE OF A GOOD NAME]
[DINGFORD’S BABY]
[A BED-TIME STORY]
[THE LESSON AFTER RECESS]
[THE LION AT THE “ZOO”]
[DISOBEYING MOTHER]
[PLANTS THAT EAT]
[THE CUCKOO CLOCK]
[DAVY’S GIRL]
[EARLY TEA]
[BONEY]
[CATCHING SNOW FLAKES]
[A MISCHIEVOUS MONKEY]
[THE AFRICAN SLAVE BOY]
[CLIMBING]
[LITTLE ELSIE]
[KITTY STRIKER]
[MAYING]
[GRACIE’S TEMPER]
[AN ANECDOTE]
[THE SWEET-GRASS HOUSE]
[JOHNNY’S GARDEN]
[BOY BILLY AND THE RABBIT]
[A FISH STORY]

THE KITTENS’ STEPMOTHER.

There are two little girls living nearly a hundred rods apart, Mamie and Fannie. Each had a nice pet cat.

Mamie’s cat had three little kittens. When they were about three weeks old their poor mother was killed by a useless dog. For two days Mamie fed her kittens with a spoon, and did all she could to comfort them; but they would cry for their mother.

Fannie’s cat had only one kitten, and it died at once. Then Mamie took her three motherless kittens down to Fannie’s cat to see if she would adopt them. She took them at once, and made a great fuss over them. Then she was allowed to raise them.

When Mamie thought her kittens were old enough she took all three of them home again. But their stepmother would neither eat nor drink. She cried and looked for the kittens. At last Fannie carried her cat up to Mamie’s house to see the kittens. Then mother and kittens were all happy again, and played together as if they had never been separated.

When the girls saw how much the cat and kittens were attached to each other they concluded to take Fannie’s cat home again with only two of the kittens; in a short time bring back one of them, and later the last one. In this way they thought they could separate them without any trouble.

Fannie’s cat was not pleased with this plan. She began to look for and call the third kitten. The next morning, when Mamie went to feed her one kitten, she could not find it anywhere about the barn or woodshed. She went down to Fannie’s house, and there she found her kitten. Sometime in the night Fannie’s cat went to Mamie’s house, found the kitten, and carried it home. Since that time the girls have not tried to part the cat and kittens, and they are a happy family.

MAMIE A. AND FANNIE H.

HOW SOME SEEDS ARE PLANTED.

Many noble oak-trees are planted by the little squirrel. Running up the branches, this little animal strips off the acorns, and buries them in the ground for food in the cold weather; and when he goes to hunt them up he does not find all of them. Those he leaves behind often grow up into great and beautiful trees.

The nuthatch, too, among the birds, is a great planter. After

twisting off a cluster of beech-nuts this queer little bird carries them to some favorite tree, and pegs them into the crevices of the bark in a curious way. How, we cannot tell. After a while they fall to the ground, and there grow into large trees.

Some larger animals are good seed-planters, and have sometimes covered barren countries with trees. It is very singular that animals and birds can do so much farm-work, isn’t it?

MRS. G. HALL.

OLD SCORES REPAID, OR TRAGEDY REVERSED.

I met a tearful little lass;
She sobbed so hard I could not pass,
I wondered so thereat;
“Oh, dry your tears, my pretty child,
Pray tell me why you grieve so wild.”
“A—mouse—ate—up—my—cat!”

“A mouse ate up your cat!” I cried,
To think she’d fib quite horrified;
“Why, how can you say that?”
Her tears afresh began to run,
She sobbed the words out, one by one:
“It—was—a—candy—cat!”

S. ISADORE MINER.

TIPPY, THE FIREMEN’S DOG.

TIPPY was a little, black dog, and he lived at the engine-house, where the great engines, which put out the fires, were kept.

He was a poor, miserable, little dog, without a home until the firemen took pity on him and gave him one.

Dick was one of the horses that helped to pull the engine. He was very large and black, with a white spot on his forehead. He and Tippy were fine friends.

When it was cold the little dog would curl close down by Dick’s back, and sleep all night, as warm as could be.

One day, when it was Dick’s dinner-time, and he was very hungry, Tippy kept running into his stall and barking and biting at his heels.

Dick did not like it, and he wanted his dinner so much that it made him cross. So he put down his head, took Tippy by the back of the neck, and lifted him over the side of the low stall, as much as to say:—

“If you won’t go out I will put you out!”

Tippy soon grew to know what the engines were for, and when the fire-bells rang, and the great horses came from their stalls ready to be harnessed to the engine, he would bark and jump up and down, and beg to go too.

TIPPY, THE FIREMEN’S DOG.

One day he hid under the driver’s seat, and the firemen did not see him, so he went to the fire.

After that, the instant an alarm sounded, Tippy would spring on the engine. As it dashed down the street, the bells ringing, the firemen shouting, he would bark to let the people along the way know he was going to help put out the fire.

Every day the firemen would give Tippy a basket, and a penny to buy a bone with. He would take the basket in his mouth, and trot across the street to the butcher’s for the bone. The butcher would take the penny out, and put a bone in its place, and Tippy would run home to eat his breakfast.

Once in a while Tippy would be very naughty, and would have to be punished. Then the firemen would make him sit on a chair for a long while, until he would promise, by a bark which meant, “Yes,” that he would be good.

LOUISE THRUSH BROOKS.

NINE LITTLE FOXES.

Tommy and Bessie, Bert, and even little Caddie, think there is no treat like a visit to Covill Farm.

They all jumped for joy when, one bright afternoon in early summer, their papa said:—

“I am going out past the Covill Farm, and if any little folks want to go along they may stop there while I do my errands.”

How soon they were all ready! How busy all the little tongues were, talking over what they would see and do!

“There’ll be lots of little chickens now; and ducklings, too!”

“Yes; and we’ll see the dear little lambs, and the little calfeys!”

“And maybe we can go down to the boat-house, and have a row on the lake!”

But they never dreamed of the funny sight they really saw that afternoon. Papa set them all down at the gate, and drove on, promising to come back for them in an hour.

When he came back he tied his horse, and set out to find the little folks. But in a few moments they saw him, and came rushing across the yard, all talking at once:—

“O papa, come! come and see!”

“Oh, so funny!”

Little two-year-old Caddie was as much excited as the rest; she cried:—

“Take my hand, papa! Little piggies shall not bite you!”

“Little piggies,” indeed! Little foxes they were; and nine of the cunning creatures. Only think!

The manager of the farm said that something had been killing his lambs, and he had been on the watch to find out the rascal.

One day, when he was out with his gun, he saw something moving near an old woodchuck hole; at least, there had been woodchucks there the year before.

He went nearer, expecting to see a woodchuck again; but there were these little foxes playing around. The woodchucks must have burrowed out, and an old fox taken possession of their hole for a den.

Mr. Nash lay down on the ground to count the funny little things, and watch them tumbling over each other. Then he tried to stop up the entrance to their den with his coat, so that he could catch them. But a tree root lay across the hole in such a way that there was a place left big enough for the little foxes to get in; and in they went.

Then Mr. Nash went and called a man to help him. They took spades and dug into the hole until they found them.

They carried them up to the farm-yard, and put them into a pen. They were of a tawny color; and when the children saw them they were about as large as cats, and as full of play as any kittens.

Mr. Nash said he did not want to kill them, because they were so cunning. But it was a good thing that he caught them. Just think how many chickens, and ducks, and geese, and lambs those nine foxes might have killed, if they had grown up in their den!

MRS. D. P. SANFORD.

It was the first day of school after a vacation. The children were playing in the yards. The teachers sat at their desks waiting for the bell to strike to call the children to the different rooms. The hands of the different clocks pointed to a quarter before nine.

The bell was a sort of gong, fastened to the outside of the building, and the master of the school could ring it by touching a knob in the wall near his desk. It was now time to call the children into school. The master pulled the bell and waited. Still the merry shouts could be heard in the school-yards. Very strange! The children were so engaged in play that they could not hear the bell, he thought. Then he pulled it more vigorously. Still the shouts and laughter continued.

The master raised his window, clapped his hands, and pointed to the bell.

The children rushed into line like little soldiers, and waited for the second signal. The teacher pulled and pulled, but there was no sound. Then he sent a boy to tell each line to file in, and he sent another boy for a carpenter to find out if the bell-cord was broken.

What do you think the carpenter found? A little sparrow had built its nest inside the bell, and prevented the hammer striking against the bell. The teacher told the children what the trouble was, and asked if the nest should be taken out. There was a loud chorus of “No, sir.”

Every day the four hundred children would gather in the yard and look up at the nest. When the little birds were able to fly to the trees in the yard, and no longer needed a nest, one of the boys climbed on a ladder and cleared away the straw and hay so that the sound of the bell might call the children from play.

M. A. HALEY.

THE HOOK AND LADDER.

The frosts in the door-yard maple
Had lighted a fine red blaze,
And one of the golden twilights
That come September days:
The neighborhood lads had gathered
To play their usual plays.

Some one turned on the water,
And the boy in the foremost place
Got the full force from the nozzle
Square in his little face;
And he cried for half a minute
With the funniest grimace.

The stream flew this way, that way,
And up to the tree’s bright top,
And back came the water splashing
With reckless slosh and slop,
And with it showers of red leaves
And twigs began to drop.

This small boys’ Hook and Ladder
Was a very good company,
And they squirted till the sidewalk
Was like a mimic sea;
But they didn’t put out the fire
In the old red maple-tree.

MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.

LITTLE JOE’S RIDE.

“Good Billy! nice Billy!” said little Joe, as he patted the nose of the old black horse. “Say, Uncle John, can’t I ride him to water?”

“I am afraid you cannot hang on to him,” replied his uncle. “Did you ever ride a horse?”

“No, uncle; but I am sure I can,” answered Joe. “Please let me try. I’ll take hold of his mane with both hands, and hang on as hard as ever I can.”

“Well, you may try it. There is the trough, against that fence, the other side of the barn. Look out that old Billy does not give you a ducking.”

“Never fear for me,” cried Joe, riding away in great glee.

He was a little city boy, and had come out to the farm to make his uncle a visit. He thought it great fun to take a ride on horseback.

It did not take him long to find the trough, for old Billy knew the way right well. Then, how it happened, Joe never could tell: Billy put his head down quite suddenly, and right over it slid the little boy with a great splash, head first into the water.

Of course he was not hurt. He caught hold of the fence and came out, dripping from head to foot.

Old Billy looked on rather surprised, but got his drink. He let Joe lead him back to the barn, and how Uncle John did laugh at him. Joe laughed too, as he went off to get on some dry clothes. Though he took a good many rides after that, he never forgot his first one on old Billy’s back.

MRS. M. E. SANDFORD.

GYPSY AND HIS TRICKS.

When Harry was six years old his grandfather sent him a very nice present from the farm. You cannot guess what it was, so I will tell you.

A goat, with a harness and cart, for Harry to drive him. Harry named him Gypsy, because he was so black.

Gypsy and Harry had a great many good times together. He would draw Harry to school and then wait very patiently under the shade of a tree until school was out. All the school-children were very fond of him and would bring him sweet apples and cake.

The teacher was fond of Gypsy, too, and would often bring sugar to him; but she never let Gypsy have it until he had performed one of the tricks the boys had taught him. He must either stand on his head, bow, or dance. Gypsy could do all these.

One day Gypsy did something very funny. It was a very hot day, and Harry thought he would unharness him and let him roam around the school-yard.

What do you think Gypsy did? He walked into the school-house, straight up to the teacher, and stood on his head. He was begging for sugar.

The teacher laughed with the scholars, and said, “Gypsy, you have learned your lesson well; now I’ll excuse you, and let you go out to play.” And then she drove him out.

One of the boys begged leave to give Gypsy an apple, and the teacher said he might. Gypsy took the apple in his mouth and made a little bow.

The scholars laughed so long that the teacher had to close the door for fear Gypsy would do some other funny thing.

KATY KYLE.

Take them, and then take me; please count
My eyes your stars; the little maid
Who offers flowers, your bird,
Whose heart with love is stirred.

May child love and the birds together
Make all your life like summer weather;
May flowers blossom in your sight,
And golden stars bring peace at night.

MRS. E. ANNETTE HILLS.

DO RIGHT.

“Well met, my little man!
Now tell me, if you can,
The very nicest way
To spend this long, dull day.”

“Well, sir, my mother says,
Of all the pretty ways
To make a dark day bright
The best is just do right!”

M. J. T.

DOG PRINCE.

“Shake hands, Prince!”
Black as a coal, and curly, too.
Is the dog I introduce to you.
He gives at once his right-hand paw,
None a softer one ever saw.

“Beg, Prince!”
Up he rises on his hind legs,
Flies both little fore-feet, and begs,
Not for money, nor food, nor clothes,
But merely to show how much he knows.

“Speak, Prince!”
You’d think from that first growling note,
He’d a bumble-bee inside his throat;
’Tis not a bee, but only a bark;
For answer, shrill and eager, hark!

“Roll over, Prince!”
He’ll do all other things you ask;
But this is a task, a dreadful task.
He hates the dust on his silky hide
And in the fringe of his ears beside.

“Roll over, I say!”
Such a struggle as he goes through;
He wants to do it, and don’t want to!
He rubs one black ear on the floor,
Rubs a little, and nothing more.

“Ah, Prince! Ah, Prince!”
Do you call that minding? Yet, I find
Yours is a common way to mind:
Willing to do what you like to best,
And only half-way doing the rest.

MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.

WHERE THE PRETTY PATH LED.

Little Fred went to spend his long vacation with his grandpa and grandma in the country. Fred’s grandpa had an old white horse named Betsy. He had owned her ever since mamma was a little girl, and Fred and Betsy soon became great friends.

Every day grandma would give Fred two biscuits, two apples and two lumps of sugar in a little basket and he would take them over to the pasture. Betsy soon learned to expect him, and waited for him at the bars. She knew that half of what was in the basket was meant for her.

A very pretty path came in at one end of the pasture. Fred often wondered where it went, but he never dared to go in very far alone. One day his two cousins, Alice and Frank, came to make grandma a little visit. Grandma told Fred he must show them all over the farm. The next morning, after he had taken them out to lunch with Betsy, he thought it would be a good chance to go down the little path. Alice and Frank said they would like to go very much. Fred was still a little afraid, and kept very near Alice. But he forgot everything else, when, at the end of the path, they came upon a lovely little pond. It was all covered with great white lilies and their green pads.

They wanted to get some lilies to take home. They tried to reach them from the bank, but lilies have a provoking way of growing just out of reach. Then they tried to hook them in with sticks, but got only three or four, without stems. Then they looked for a board to use as a raft.

At last Frank said they must wade for them. He and Fred took off their shoes and stockings, pulled up their trousers, and went in. Fred used a long stick to feel the way before him, so as not to get into water too deep.

This time they were successful, and got just as many lilies as their hands would hold.

Grandma was delighted with them; she said she had not had any lilies from that old pond since grandpa used to bring them to her years and years before.

MRS. F. T. MERRILL.

A LETTER TO MOTHER NATURE.

YOU dear old Mother Nature, I am writing you a letter,
To let you know you ought to fix up things a little better.
The best of us will make mistakes—I thought perhaps if I
Should tell you how you might improve, you would be glad to try.

“I think you have forgotten, ma’am, that little girls and boys
Are fond of dolls, and tops, and sleds, and balls, and other toys;
Why didn’t you—I wonder, now!—just take it in your head
To have such things all growing in a lovely garden bed?

“And then I should have planted (if it only had been me)
Some vines with little pickles, and a great big cooky tree;
And trees, besides, with gum-drops and caramels and things;
And lemonade should bubble up in all the little springs.

“I’d like to have the coasting and the skating in July,
When old Jack Frost would never get a single chance to try
To nip our cheeks and noses; and the Christmas trees should stand
By dozens, loaded!—in the woods!—now, wouldn’t that be grand?

“Ah! what a world it would have been! How could you, madam, make
Such lots of bread and butter to so very little cake?
I’d have it just the other way, and every one would see
How very, very, very, very nice my way would be.

“But, as I cannot do it, will you think of what I say?
And please, ma’am, do begin and alter things this very day.
And one thing more—on Saturdays don’t send us any rain.
Good-by. If I should think of something else, I’ll write again.”

SYDNEY DAYRE.

OUR MAY-DAY AT THE SOUTH.

Out in the woods we went to-day:
Mamma and Nannie, Freddie and May,
Charlie and I, and good old Tray,
Out in the greenwood to romp and play.

To-day, you know, is the first of May;
And we meant to be so jolly and gay:
And celebrate in so merry a way
That we could never forget this holiday.

So first we chose the loveliest queen,
The dearest and sweetest that ever was seen;
For mamma herself was Her Highness Serene,
And we crowned her with rosebuds and evergreen.

Then we kneeled around and vowed to obey
All the laws she made, not only to-day,
But all the year through. Then she waved a spray
Of lilac bloom, and bade us all be gay.

Oh the games we played, and the races we run!
The bars we leaped, and the prizes we won!
Oh the shouting, the singing, the laughter and fun,—
It were hard to tell who was the happiest one!

Then, rosy and tired, we gathered around
Our beautiful queen on the mossy ground;
The hungriest group in the land, I’ll be bound.
As the sandwiches, cookies, and tarts went round.

When the sun was low and shadows were gray,
Down from her throne stepped our fair Queen of May,
And through the green fields led homeward our way,
While we gave her sweet thanks for this beautiful day.

L. A. B. C.

BERTIE’S STORY AND MINE.

“Tell me a story about a bear,
A great big bear who lived in a wood
And ate little children.” “O, my dear,
The bears I know of were playful and good,
And lived in houses or parks or a pen,
And never ate children, or boys, or men.

“There was one snow white, a mother bear,—
With two little babies cunning and queer;
Who rolled and climbed and stood on their heads,
And fell over, as boys often do, I fear.
They hugged their mother, and talked in their way,
And kept still when they’d nothing to do or say.”

“No, I mean a real bear out in the woods,
Who growls and chases you, makes you run,
Half scared to death,—and a little boy lost
Out in the woods and the night coming on;
And the terrible bear with his great fierce eyes,
And no one to hear the little child’s cries!

“He runs and runs,”—and then Bertie smiles,
His climax reached,—“I was only in fun;
The bear didn’t kill him, because, you see,
There was just behind a man with a gun,
And he shot! Bang! Down came the old bear;
’Twas his own little boy and he saved him—there!”

“O, I am so glad!” and I give him a kiss;
Then silent we sit for a moment or two.
“That’s a boy’s story; yours, you know,
For nice little girls very well will do.
But boys, you remember, grow up to be men,
And can fight the bears to their very den.”

AMANDA M. DOUGLAS.

THE PORCUPINE’S QUILLS.

Every animal has an instrument of defence. Some have claws, some hoofs, some spurs and beaks, some powerful teeth and stings.

The porcupine has something queerer than all these. Its body is covered all over with two sets of quills. One set is long, slender, and curved; the other, short and straight, very stout, and with sharp points.

Whenever the porcupine is chased by any animal, and finds he cannot get out of the way, he just stops and bristles up all his quills. Then he backs quickly upon the animal, so that the short, sharp quills may stick into the body. If any happen to be a little loose, they stick so fast in the flesh, like an arrow, that they often make a very bad wound. Remember this whenever you come in the way of the porcupine.

MRS. G. HALL.

LOVE YOUR ENEMIES.

I was watching Willie and Grouse at play on the lawn a few days since. I saw in the poor dumb brute a spirit that is too seldom found in man.

Grouse is an old bird-dog,—a setter. He was bought before Willie came to be his little master. He has soft, brown hair, and is a very clever, good-natured dog. Willie can do anything with him, and he never gets angry; but when Willie hurts him he only looks up and pleads with his large, misty eyes.

They had been playing a long while. Grouse got tired and lay down on the grass. Pretty soon I saw Willie get some water in a basin. I wondered what he was going to do with it. Then he walked close up to Grouse, who lay on the lawn, and threw the water all over him.

It was very unkind for Willie to do so, don’t you think it was? I called Willie to me, and told him it was too bad for him to plague such a good old dog. I told him he was a very naughty boy to do so.

Willie said he supposed it was wrong to plague Grouse, but he didn’t mean to hurt him much.

So Willie went back to where Grouse lay in the sun drying himself. He patted the poor dog on the head, and asked him if he would forgive him for his unkindness.

Then Grouse, as if he knew what was said, licked Willie’s hand. He looked up forgivingly into his face with his dewy eyes, as much as to say, “I am one who can love his enemies.”

FRANK. H. SELDEN.

THE MERCIFUL PRINCE.

More than two thousand years ago, in a far-off country, a prince was born. While he was yet a child every care was taken that he should be made happy, and sights of sorrow were carefully kept from him. He was of a very kind, loving, and tender disposition.

But the care even of a king for a prince could not keep away all sorrowful sights. His watchful eyes sometimes saw suffering that filled his heart with pity.

As he was playing with his cousin in the palace ground, a flock of wild swans flew over their heads. His cousin drew his bow and wounded one. It fell at his feet. The prince with pity drew the arrow from the wounded bird, nursed it, and saved its life.

While his child life was one of tenderness and mercy, the years passed by and he became a man. His heart was still filled with pity for every suffering creature. He went from the palace, from home and dear friends, to become poor and a wanderer, that he might help the suffering. It is beautifully told that in his wanderings he came upon a flock of sheep driven along the dusty highway. There was one poor wounded, bleeding lamb, which he took tenderly in his arms and carried. And so through life his pity and his help were given to the weak, whether men or beasts. From his tender and beautiful life, men came to worship him after his death.

The prince was Prince Gautama, of India, who is worshipped as Buddha. Is not his loving and merciful life, from a little child to an old man, a beautiful example to us?

CHARLES T. JEROME

THE OPOSSUM IN THE HEN-HOUSE.

“O George, the circus is coming! the handbills are all up, and such pictures of horses and lions and tigers, and everything!”

Ned jumped about for joy, until George said,—

“But how are you going, Ned? We have no money, and papa said he could not give us any more this month, if he gave us a gun.”

“The new gun,—so he did,” said Ned, sadly. “But the circus takes so little; they would let us in at half price.”

“I will tell you,” exclaimed George; “let us sell our white Leghorns to mamma. She wants them, I know, and the money we get for them will take us both to the circus.”

This was settled, and at dinner mamma was told of the plan.

“Put them up in the hen-house to-night,” she said, “and to-morrow I will look at them and we will fix the price.”

The boys went to bed early that night, but had hardly settled themselves to sleep when Melissa, the little servant-girl, rushed in with a light in her hand.

“O, git up, boys, git up! Sompen’s in de hen-house, killin’ all de fowls.”

They jumped up and huddled on their clothes as fast as they could, then ran after Melissa, who held the light while they armed themselves with sticks.

There was a great stir, sure enough, in the hen-house,—fowls were cackling and screaming with fright, and a curious snapping sound came from one corner. When the light fell here they saw a rough, hairy little animal, with small bright eyes like a pig, and a long smooth tail. But, worst of all, one of the beautiful white Leghorns lay before it, all mangled and bleeding. The horrid creature was tearing its soft body, and would hardly stop eating when the children attacked him.

At last Melissa caught up a stick, and killed the little beast with a quick blow. She held it up in triumph by its long tail. It looked very much like a little pig, and had five fingers, like toes, on each foot.

“’Tis a ’possum,” said Melissa, “and very good to eat. I’s right glad I kill it, cos now ’tis mine.”

“You are welcome to it,” said Ned, half crying. “What shall we do now our pretty Leghorn rooster is dead? We can’t go to the circus.”

Next morning they told their tale at the breakfast-table.

“Never mind,” said their father; “I think you may go, after all, as I owe you something for killing the opossum. He would have destroyed the rest of the fowls.”

“Yes; but, papa, Melissa killed it; we only struck at it.”

“Well, I think I must treat the whole party, as all did their best. We will set a trap to-day for the next opossum that may come to see us.”

The boys and Melissa went to the circus, and enjoyed all they saw, and Melissa had a fine opossum stew into the bargain.

PINK HUNTER.

Virginia.

HOW ROY WENT A FISHING.

Roy had fished in the ditch by the side of the road a great many times; but he had only a bent pin for a fish-hook, and a piece of twine for a line. He never caught any fish there.

When he was six years old his uncle James gave him a real fish-hook and a line, and after a good deal of coaxing his mother said that he might go down the cow-path to the brook and fish for trout.

Uncle James caught a great many trout in the brook.

Alice wanted to go with Roy; and Roy, who is very kind to his sister, asked his mother to let her go.