Read Ebook: The Nursery February 1873 Vol. XIII. A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers by Various

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Ebook has 253 lines and 16678 words, and 6 pages

THE STORY OF A LITTLE DUCK.

I WAS one of a family of nine brothers and sisters. We all found ourselves outside our shells one fine, sunny day in spring; but we felt chilly, and were glad to nestle under the wings of the kind old hen whom we regarded as our mother.

In a day or two, we began to look about the world. We found that it comprised a pretty lawn, on which our mansion was placed, with a brick wall at one end of it. The other end of the world was at the foot of the lawn, and consisted of a level expanse as smooth as a sheet of glass.

Our mansion was formed of wood, with a high pointed roof, and with open bars in front, through which we could look out and enjoy the prospect. We could crawl under the bars easily; but mother-hen could not.

When the boy had lifted up our mansion , mother-hen started at once on a journey round the world. We stopped to pick up some bits of grain, and some little worms, which we found. "Cluck, cluck!" said mother-hen, which means, "Come, come!" and we all said, "Quack, quack!" which means, "Yes, yes!"

Into this pond my brothers and sisters dashed, and of course I followed. How delicious! The water was cool and refreshing, and so buoyant, that we moved about on it more easily than we could walk on the land; but, when we looked back to the bank, we saw mother-hen calling out in grief and dread, "Cluck, cluck! come, come! you'll drown, drown! Oh, oh!"

But poor mother-hen did not see any thing jolly about it, and was always in fear when we went to the pond, into which she would never go herself.

One day our ideas were again expanded by our being driven through a gate. We then found that the world was much larger than we had thought; for beyond our wall was a broad ploughed field, as well as a vast forest, the edges of which touched the distant sky. Wonderful discovery! How grand a duck feels when gaining useful knowledge!

Every thing went on pleasantly enough, until a great awkward giant, named Bob, came and looked very hard at us. At first we did not like him; but he was really very kind, and called us "Ducky, ducky, ducky!" and threw us handfuls of barley. He then seized two or three of my fattest brothers and sisters, and frightened them so much, that they called out, "Quack, quack! don't, don't!" But they need not have made such a fuss, as he put them safely in a basket with a lid to it to keep off the rain, and took a great deal of care of them indeed.

Certainly it is a good thing to have men to attend to us so well. I am sure they must be very fond of ducks to take such care of us. And so I said to Jack Drake; but all he said in reply was, "Quack, quack! quack, quack!"

T. C.

OUR THANKSGIVING DINNER.

WE live in a little village near the city of Cincinnati. We have not lived here many years; and our grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins are so far away, that they cannot often come to see us.

This year, on Thanksgiving Day, none of our friends were with us; and mamma and papa felt very sad to have the big turkey cooked, and only our own family to eat it.

So, happening to see a ragged little boy in the street, mamma called him, and told him to go out and find eleven more poor little boys, and tell them to come with him and get a Thanksgiving dinner.

He ran off in high glee; and, sure enough, when twelve o'clock came, along came the whole number of poor, hungry little boys. Their eyes sparkled with delight when they saw the nice brown turkey, and the pies and cakes. They were soon seated at the table; and papa and mamma waited on them.

It made us all glad to see how the poor fellows enjoyed their dinner. One ragged little boy was so afraid of soiling the cloth, that he quietly slipped the bones under the table. Another boy saw him, and told the rest; and then they all had a good laugh.

After they had eaten as much as they wanted, they were taken into the room where the piano is; and mamma got "The Nursery" containing the song of "Mother Hubbard," and played and sung it to them.

Papa then gave each one a paper of candy and a nice large apple, and sent them off. No sooner were they out of the door than they set up a yell like so many little Indians, and ran to their homes as fast as they could, I suppose, to tell about the good time they had had.

We all think now that we enjoyed our Thanksgiving as well as children who had their own friends to dine with them. And I do not doubt that those poor little boys will remember their unexpected dinner as long as they live.

HARRISON, O. ANNIE GRAY PATTISON.

THE GRANDPA STORY.

"WHICH shall it be to-night, Harry?" I said a little while ago?--"The Goblet Story, The Grandpa Story, or About the Runaway Boy?"

"Oh! The Grandpa Story," said Harry at once; "for grandpa has been here to-day, and brought me ten notched sugar-plums,--five red ones, and five white." So I began:--

One bright Monday morning, I looked out of the front-window, and said, "Why, Harry, Uncle David has come to town! He is tying his horse under the elm-tree." A minute after, Uncle David opened the door into the sitting-room, and said, "Is there any one here who would like to go out to grandpa's to-day?" And mamma spoke right up, and said, "We would all like to go. It will do my little lads good to have a nice ride."

"Get ready quick, then," said Uncle David. So mamma put a little blue cloak and a white sun-bonnet on Freddy the baby, and a linen coat, and straw hat with blue ribbons on Harry; and they all went out, and got into the carriage.

Then away they rode through the pretty streets, and over a covered bridge, where the horse went TROT, TROT, TROT. Then they crossed a railroad-track, and drove past a station, and stopped at a store; and Uncle David went in and bought a great box of sugar for Aunt Mattie, and a little bag of candy to carry home to his little boy Philly.

Then they rode up a steep hill, and came out upon Westfield Plains. And then what beautiful things they saw!--a man with a gun, a squirrel cracking a nut, a little girl with red hair, a man picking apples from a tree, and, best of all, a boy flying a kite.

Tiger, the great black dog, said, "Bow, wow!" to Harry, as he went up the steps. Cousin Anne sat in a great rocking-chair by the open window, and sang to her dolly, "Rock-a-by baby."

Aunt Mattie was glad enough to see them, and gave Harry a round cooky with a hole in the middle, that he thought very funny. Mamma always makes square cookies, with no holes to put your fingers through.

After supper Harry's eyes began to droop; and so mamma said, "Kiss grandpa, my little boy, and the dear little cousins, and then let's run to bed with sleepy head."

In six seconds after Harry's head touched the pillow, he was fast asleep.

The next morning he awoke fresh and bright; and, after breakfast, Philly and Harry went out into the road to play. They made little sand-hills and houses of pebble-stones, and dug wells in the sand, and had a real good time.

In the afternoon, mamma put the cloaks and hats on Harry and Freddy; Uncle David drove up to the house; and they all got into the carriage, and had a nice ride home.

S. B. T.

JACK FROST.

JACK FROST, he is with us again; He comes every winter, you know: But we're hardy and bold, And we don't mind the cold, And we welcome the ice and the snow.

Jack Frost plays a rough sort of game With the children wherever he goes: He pinches their cheeks; Their noses he tweaks; And he treads on their ten little toes.

Jack Frost makes the ground rather hard: But with thick boots we clatter about; And we run till our breath Puffs away like a wreath Of white steam from the teakettle's spout.

Jack Frost lays his hand on the pond, And turns it to glittering ice; Then the skaters they glide, And the sliders they slide: Think of that, Charley; isn't it nice!

Jack Frost, he is sure to be found Where the sleigh-bells are tinkling clear; As the horses, so strong, Canter gayly along, While the lads give a shout and a cheer.

Jack Frost, then, you're welcome again; Of pleasures you bring us a store: But be mild as you can, Oh, you fierce little man! When you visit the feeble and poor.

GEORGE BENNETT.

MISS JONES'S PICTURE.

I HAVE just been looking at Miss Jones's picture. How do you think Miss Jones looks?

She wears a shawl pinned close up to her throat, a cap tied under her chin, and a pair of spectacles over some very wise-looking eyes.

What a funny-looking picture! I call it a funny picture, because the clothes are an old lady's clothes; but the face is a little girl's face, round and plump and rosy. If I could take off the cap and the shawl and the spectacles, I should see a little girl of four years, with a white dress, a pink sash, and long curls hanging down over her shoulders.

Her name is Edith May. Her mamma calls her Edie. Edie likes to fix herself up, and "play people" as she calls it. She takes many different parts.

The other day, she said she was going to be Miss Jones, and go down to the saloon and have her picture taken.

So she fixed herself up with cap and spectacles and shawl, and went down to the photograph-room, and told the artist that she was Miss Jones, and she had called to have her picture taken.

Then the artist placed a chair for her, and she sat up as straight as she could. When the pictures were finished, he sent them to her mamma, who has sent one to me; and here you have it in "The Nursery."

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