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Read Ebook: The Nursery March 1881 Vol. XXIX A Monthly Magazine for Youngest Readers by Various
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Ebook has 156 lines and 11759 words, and 4 pages
THE
NURSERY
FOR YOUNGEST READERS.
BOSTON: THE NURSERY PUBLISHING COMPANY, NO. 36 BROMFIELD STREET. 1881.
IN PROSE.
PAGE Telling a Story 65 Turtles 71 Feeding the Swans in Winter 72 Two Friends 74 The Swallows' Nest 76 Drawing-Lesson 81 The Faithful Sentinel 86 Bruce and Old Sheepy 88 Elfrida's Present 92 "Parley-voo" 93
IN VERSE.
PAGE To the Snowdrop 69 Rather Bashful 72 Bird, Lamb, Baby 75 The Gentleman in Gray 78 The Little Scholars 80 The Three Dolls 82 "Right of Way" 91 Winter 96
TELLING A STORY.
DREAR and cold is the winter outside; but within there is a bright fire on the hearth. Jane and Susie, and Charles and John, and their elder sister Ann, are all seated comfortably in front of it. And now the children call on sister Ann to tell them a story; and this is what she tells them:--
"When I was a girl, and wanted to hear a story, and the grown-up people didn't feel like telling me one, they would say,--
"'I'll tell you a story about Jack O'Nory; And now my story's begun. I'll tell you another about Jack and his brother; And now my story's done.'
"One day, when I begged for one of the stories, my aunt told me that I couldn't hear about Jack O'Nory or his brother, because Mother Goose never told the stories about them; that she just began, and then thought better of it. After that I didn't ask any more; but I said to myself, 'If ever I get big, I'll find out those stories.' And so, sure enough, I did. And I am going to tell one of them now,--the one about Jack O'Nory himself.
"'It is a story that all came of his having a great liking for buns. Jack lived in the next house to Mother Goose, and every morning, if she peeped between the curtains, she was sure to see Jack waiting on the pavement for the bun-man. You see the bun-man went around very early, so that people could have their buns for breakfast.
"'But one morning Jack slept too late, and, when he ran out, the bun-man had already gone by and was almost out of sight. Jack ran after him, but could not catch him.
"'It didn't seem to Jack a bit nice, not to have any bun with his milk that morning; and so all day Jack kept saying to himself, "That bun-man won't get by the house to-morrow morning without my knowing it, I guess!" And this was the last thing he thought of as he took off his shoes and stockings at night before the fire.
"'But all his thinking did not seem to be of much use; for, before he had slept half as long as he wanted to, he heard the jingle of the bun-man's bell. Up he jumped, pulled on his clothes as fast as he could, and had got on all except one shoe, when the bell rang below the window. Down he ran, but the bun-man wasn't there.
"'Jack forgot that he had on only one shoe, and started to run after the man. He was soon only half a square behind him; but just then the man turned a corner, and was out of sight. Jack turned the corner too; but the man had walked fast and was just turning another corner.
"'Poor Jack began to think he was not going to get his bun; but he still ran on, and turned the next corner and the next, for the bun-man seemed to be always turning corners. Jack got very hot, and was just beginning to cry, when, as he was turning the ninth corner after the man, he saw him go into a house.
"'"Ah!" thought Jack, "that's the place where they make the buns. I'll hurry in after him, and then I'll surely get my bun, and he'll tell me the way home besides."
"'So in went Jack. But the man was not to be seen. There was nothing to be seen except buns, all in great piles like walls, and all smoking hot. Jack was very warm already, you know, and the steam from so many hot buns made him warmer still; but he tried not to mind it, and walked on, looking all the time for the bun-man.
"'He could hear his bell every little while; but the more he tried to go where the bell was, the more he could not find it, Jack by this time, had gone through so many rooms, that he did not know how to get out: so he went down some stairs that he saw ahead of him, and found himself in the place where the buns were baked.
"'There were plenty of men here, all in baker's caps; but instead of making buns, they were pouring out milk for two rows of little boys, who stood, each with a bib under his chin and a bun in his hand. The strangest part of it was that the boys did not seem to be a bit hot, while poor Jack was almost melting. Jack thought that if he could only drink some milk, he should feel better.
"'But just as he was about to take his place with the rest of the boys, they disappeared, and instead of pouring out milk, the men were shovelling buns out of ovens on all sides of the room. Now, Jack had heard his mamma tell about the great oven that buns were baked in, and he had always wanted to see one: so he ran up to the door to look in.
"'The heat drove him back, and he turned quickly to run, just as one of the bakers was putting his shovel in for more buns. The baker did not notice him, and, the first thing Jack knew, the baker's elbow drove him bump against the oven door. My! how he screamed!
"'Then, all of a sudden, there was no oven to be seen, only a fire; and his mother was coming in at the door,--not the bun-man's door, but his own nursery door,--saying, "Why, Jack, not undressed yet! I sent you to bed a half-hour ago!"
"'But she stopped suddenly, and picked Jack up, hugging and kissing him, and calling his father to go for the doctor. Poor Jack! what with the hurt on his head, and his mother's crying, and the thought of the strange bake-shop, he wondered whether he was Jack O'Nory at all.
"'While he was wondering the doctor came, and his mother began to tell him about Jack's hurt. "You see, doctor," she said, "my little boy went to sleep as he was sitting very near the fire, and fell over and cut his head against the hot andiron."
"'Then Jack knew that the bun-man, the bake-shop, and the oven, were all a dream. He told his mamma the dream, and she promised him three buns every day till his head was well. Then she tucked him up in his bed, and told him not to dream of the bun-man again.'
MRS. HENRIETTA R. ELIOT.
TO THE SNOW-DROP.
EMBLEM of purity, gracefully lifting Petals of beauty 'mid wintry snows drifting; Brave little snow-drop, so fair and so hardy, First flower to welcome the spring chill and tardy,-- Frost cannot wither thee, cold cannot frighten, Patiently tarrying till skies may brighten; Snow-piercer, cloud-gazer, wind-scorner, eye-cheerer, Bring to my heart thy dear message yet nearer. When age or sorrow is darkly impending, Snows of adversity thickly descending, Then, springing out of them, checked by no blasting, Let there bloom thoughts of the life everlasting. Coming, like snow-drops, amid our endurance, Bringing to each weary heart the assurance, To joy's frozen waste spring draws nigher and nigher, And death is the way to life higher and higher.
EPES SARGENT.
TURTLES.
ALMOST every one thinks of turtles as exceedingly slow and stupid. Perhaps they may be rather slow, though you know who won the race in the fable of the turtle and the hare. As for their stupidity, I doubt whether they are so very stupid, for I once had one that seemed to me very bright.
When I put him on the floor or ground, he would stay quite still, and draw in his head and legs, until I turned away, or busied myself with something else; then he would make off as fast as his little legs would carry him.
I once lost one in that way: so, now that I know their tricks, I am more careful. But certainly that turtle must have had some sense to be able to tell when my back was turned, or even when I was not looking.
Their habits are quite peculiar. In summer they stay in the water most of the time, coming out only now and then to sun themselves on some log or branch. In the winter they bury themselves in the mud, or remain in a torpid state. When spring comes, they lay their eggs.
They live chiefly on bugs; but I have heard of one living a whole year without any thing to eat. They are very patient, and I have seen one try for hours to get over a wall that one would think he could never get over; and yet he would succeed.
I have a turtle now that will have a funny story to tell his friends, if he ever reaches his native home again. This is it: I once took him to school with me, and left him in a box, with the cover half open, on a table in the dressing-room. In about an hour I heard a suppressed laugh from one of the girls, and, looking up, I saw Mr. Turtle calmly walking into school. He wanted to learn something as well as the rest of us.
LITTLE CHICK.
RATHER BASHFUL!
UNDER this great sunbonnet Is hid a pretty face, Belonging to a little girl Whose name, they say, is Grace. She is a merry little girl, As good as good can be; But she is rather bashful, As any one may see.
FEEDING THE SWANS IN WINTER.
IT is a cold day in February. The icicles hang from the trees. The pond is partly frozen over. Mary and her dog Pug have come down to take a look at the swans.
The swans are often fed by girls and boys in the summer; but in winter they have few visitors: so they are glad to see Mary, and waddle up on the ice to meet her.
She feeds them with something that looks to me like a banana, and they eat it greedily. Pug looks on fiercely, as though he did not quite approve of their doings, and had half a mind to interfere.
Take care, Pug: you had better keep in the background. A blow from a swan's wing would not be good fun to a small dog. Let the swans eat their luncheon in peace.
IDA FAY.
TWO FRIENDS.
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