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Ebook has 1307 lines and 57923 words, and 27 pages
Editor: O. M. Dunham
NOON-DAY FANCIES FOR OUR LITTLE PETS
Edited by O. M. Dunham
Fully Illustrated
New York
Cassell Publishing Company
KITTY'S BASKET RIDE.
|Once I had a little black and white kitten. She was very cunning and playful, but not very wise.
On one side of our house was a high grape trellis. One morning kitty went out and began to climb this trellis. She put one little paw before the other, and went bravely up, up, up, till she reached the top. Then she looked down to the ground and mewed piteously. I suppose when she looked down and saw very far off the ground was, she was frightened and dizzy.
When I heard her cry, I ran out to see what was the matter. Their stood kitty on the very top of the trellis, clinging to the slats with her little paws. The fur stood up all over her back and tail, she was so frightened. "Mew I mew!" she cried.
I saw how badly she felt and how afraid she was of falling.
I tried to think of some way to help her. I got a basket and tied the handle to a long pole. Then I took hold of the pole and held the basket up as high as I could reach. Then I called, "Kitty, Kitty," and with a spring, down she came into the basket.
I took her down and into the house. She seemed so glad to be safely on the ground once more that I thought she would never do that foolish thing again.
But every morning this stupid little kitten would climb the trellis just the same, and have to be taken down in the basket. I suppose she thought it fun to climb up, and rather enjoyed the ride down in the basket.
--FANNIE G. DOWSE.
TIME.
````Sixty seconds make a minute;
````Use them well, you will win it
````Sixty minutes miles an hour;
THANKSGIVING AT GRANDPA'S.
|Where we live, it snowed from morning till night on the day before Thanksgiving. Papa and John, our hired man, got the double sleigh down from the loft, where it had been resting all summer. I don't think it was tired, but it rested all the same.
Old Kate and Charley were harnessed, and they were as frisky as young lambs. They seemed to know it was Thanksgiving, and were as happy as the children. We were all wrapped up in thick, warm clothes, and packed in the sleigh. Large as it was, we filled it quite full.
We all went to church first. Do you know what Thanksgiving means? The good people who first came to make their homes in New England set apart a day and called it by this name. In the autumn, after the corn had been gathered, the apples picked, and the vegetables put in the cellar, they felt very thankful to God for all these good things. They fixed a time to meet in the churches to give thanks to God. They gave thanks in prayers, in hymns, and in sermons. They had a good dinner on that day, and were as happy as they could be. The children and the children's children went home to spend the day. It was the home festival.
People do not go to church so much as they did, but it is still the home festival. We went to church; and after that we all had a long sleigh-ride to Grandpa's. Uncle George and Aunt Lucy were there, and cousins were almost as plenty as the snowflakes the day before.
We played "blind-man's buff" before dinner. We laughed and screamed, and rolled and tumbled on the floor. Grandpa and Grandma sat laughing at us, as happy as we were.
The great event of the day was the dinner. Grandpa sat at the head of the table in his arm-chair. Some of the children thought he never would get his knife sharp enough to carve the turkey. Flora, the maid, brought it in. All the little ones screamed when she put it on the table. It was a very large turkey, and was nicely browned. We never saw anything that looked so good.
The turkey tasted as good as it looked. For ten minutes the children did not scream or laugh out loud. I suppose their mouths were too full. Then we had to eat plum pudding and four kinds of pies. We did not feel so much like it as we did. I am afraid we ate all we could rather than all we needed.
After dinner Grandma told us about her little ones. We all wanted to know where they were now. Grandma laughed, and pointed to Uncle George, Papa, and Aunt Lucy. We could hardly believe they were ever little things like us. Then Grandpa told us how he killed a great bear near the old house ever so many years before.
Uncle George showed us how to play "London Bridge." Some of us were parts of the bridge, and some of us went under it. After that we played "snap-apple." Aunt Lucy tied an apple by a string to the ceiling, and we bit at it Every time we bit, the apple flew away from us. It was great fun.
After supper the "day was over" with the little ones. We could not keep our eyes open, and some of us slept all the way home in that double sleigh. I know I dreamed about that long table at dinner, and thought we were playing "snap-apple" with the big roast turkey.
That Thanksgiving was many, many years ago, and some of those mites of little ones that played "London Bridge" are grandpas and grandmas now.
--UNCLE FRED.
A QUEER PLACE FOR A BIRD'S HOME.
|One evening last summer a tramp, who had travelled many miles, lay down on the leaves in a pleasant wood. Before he went to sleep he pulled off one shoe, for it had chafed his foot till it was very sore.
In the morning he rose, and prepared to go on to beg his morning meal. When he tried to put his shoe on, it hurt his foot so badly that he groaned aloud. He gave up trying to wear it, and threw it into the bushes.
The shoe caught in the fork of a young maple-tree, and hung fast by the heel, with the toe downward. The tramp limped away on his journey, and went I don't know where.
Before many days a bright-eyed little bird spied the shoe. She thought it would be a fine place to build a home in. So she and her mate brought fine twigs and straw and leaves in their bills. They placed them in the shoe in pretty nest-shape, and lined their new house with soft hair and wool.
Beth and her papa were out searching for wood-flowers one day. The shadow of the shoe fell on the moss beneath the little maple.
Looking up, Beth saw the nest. Her papa bent the maple down, and Beth looked in. She saw five cunning little blue eggs lying cosily against the gray lining.
Beth is a tiny girl, just past being rocked to sleep in mamma's lap. She laughed aloud, and clapped her fat little hands for joy, when she saw this dainty sight.
I think there were some little birdies in that shoe before long, don't you?--
--J. G. FORD.
LITTLE FIDGET.
````My restless little boy,
`````You can't sit still a minute;
```Your mug is upside down,
`````And not a drop is in it.
THE GOOD LITTLE MILKMAN.
|One morning last week I was walking along the street, and I saw a kitten on the pavement. It was white, with black spots on its head and neck. It sat as close to the fence as it could get, and looked very lonesome, as if it did not belong to anybody.
Every time a person went by the kitten would lift up its head and mew. I knew quite well that it was hungry and did not know where to get any breakfast. I wished that I had something with me to give it to eat. Just then a boy came along with a milk-can in his hand. He looked like a good boy. He had pleasant blue eyes and rosy cheeks. He was whistling a lively tune, as if he was very merry and happy. When Kitty saw him, she lifted up her head and gave a loud mew. The boy stopped and noticed her.
"Kitty!" said he; "I believe you are hungry, and are asking me to feed you. I wish I had a dish, and I would give you some milk."
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