THE
NURSERY

A Monthly Magazine

For Youngest Readers.

IN PROSE.

IN VERSE.

[129]

VOL. XXIX.—NO. 5.

THE BOLD SOLDIER-BOYS.

There stood the enemy in stern defiance,—four chairs,[130] one table, and a sofa,—there they stood, with a plastered wall in their rear, and calmly awaited the attack.

The fiery steed of Colonel Bob reared and plunged, as if eager to dash upon the foe. The roll of the drum made a fearful sound. The standard-bearer waved his flag. The army came rushing on. Snap the dog barked furiously. But above all the din was heard the shout of Colonel Bob, "Forward, my brave boys!"

Not a picture started from its frame. Not a chair moved. But all of a sudden the door opened, and a face looked in. It was Colonel Bob's papa.

"What's all this noise about, Robert?" said he. "This is not the place for such games. Go out of doors if you want to play soldier. I can't have such a drumming and shouting in the house."

This was rather a damper on Colonel Bob's military zeal; but what came next was still worse.

"Do any of you boys know where to-day's 'Advertiser' is?" asked papa.

Colonel Bob came down from his high horse, threw aside his plume, took off his chapeau, and handed it to his papa.

There was the "Advertiser" of that very day, folded up as a soldier-cap.

"Well, that's pretty business," said his papa, laughing. "Please give me a chance to read the papers before you use them in this way." And he went out and shut the door.

Colonel Bob stood leaning on his horse as if in deep thought. At last he said, "Boys, this movement has failed. We must change our base. Follow me." And he led the army out into the back garden.

[131]

THE GEESE THAT CAME OVER THE LEA.

PAPA ROBIN.

By and by she heard a shrill chirping. "Poor little bird," she thought, "where can it be? Is it hurt?" She went out into the yard, and looked about her.

There, under a tree, was a baby-bird that had fallen out of its nest. Elizabeth took it up gently. As it lay in her hand, it looked like a soft ball. It chirped as loud as it could, and fluttered.

"Poor birdie," said Elizabeth, "I will try and take you home." And she looked up into the tree. She could see the nest the fledgling had tumbled out of; but she was not[133] tall enough to reach it: so she stood on a knot in the trunk of the tree, and put the nestling in its home.

She saw the father and the mother-bird in the tree, and said to herself that they would take care of the little one. Then she went back to her reading.

Pretty soon she heard the chirping again. This time she knew where to look, and there was the baby-bird on the ground, crying and fluttering as before.

"Papa and mamma Robin ought to take care of you, birdling," she said. But she stepped on the knotted tree-trunk, and put back the bird a second time.

Then she sat down on the doorstep, and watched to see[134] what the parent-birds would do. They flew here and there about the nest, and sang a few notes that Elizabeth knew must be bird-talk. She wondered if they were trying to find a better place for their baby.

But as she was thinking how much care they were taking of it, out tumbled the little one a third time. "You stupid old robin!" she cried. "Do you expect some one to be putting back your birdie for you all day? Why don't you keep it in the nest?"

She picked up the birdie, and was about to put it back a third time, when, as she held it, a strange thing happened; for down flew the robin, and gave her a sharp peck on the forehead.

Elizabeth stood still. She didn't know what to make of this. But soon she began to laugh; and then she put the baby-bird gently on the ground, and went away. She at last understood what papa Robin meant to say to her by his peck. This is it: "Don't interfere when I'm teaching my child to fly. You are very big, and perhaps you know a great deal; but you don't seem to know that it's not right to keep birds in the nest all summer. They would never find out what their wings are for."

[135]

CARLO AND THE DUCKS.

But Carlo was in chase of two ducklings, and did not mind Jane's call. Of course the ducklings took to the water. Carlo ran after them to the water's edge, but there he stopped.

What stopped him? Jane was tugging pretty hard at the string. That was one thing that held him back; but that[136] was not all. Carlo was not fond of the water; but he would not have stopped for that.

I will tell you what stopped him. While the ducklings were swimming away for dear life, the old mother-duck came sailing boldly up, with her great yellow beak, and faced Master Carlo.

She looked like a sloop-of-war all ready for action. Carlo was a brave dog; but he was afraid of her, for all that. So he stood still and barked.

Madam Duck did not mind his noise in the least. She quacked at him fiercely. This is what she meant to say: "Look here, my young friend, you are a dog, and I am a duck. You are at home on the land, but I am at home on the water. Bark as much as you please, but, if you know what is good for your health, keep out of this pond, and let my ducklings alone."

"Do you hear that, Carlo?" said Jane. "Now don't stop to answer, but come with me like a good dog, and we will have a run in the woods."

And then Carlo gave up his chase of the ducks, and went quietly where Jane led him.

THE NAUGHTY CAT.

[137]

PICKING ORANGES.

But, while the boys and girls in the North are wearing mittens and tippets and thick coats when they go out to play, Willy and Ben are running about bare-headed in the orange-groves, or plucking roses from the garden.

All around the house are orange-trees, and in among the glossy green leaves hang the great yellow juicy oranges. The fruit is ripe early in December, and ready to be picked.

Miles, the colored man, takes his big clippers and goes up the high step-ladder which he has placed near the tree. He cuts each orange from the branch, taking care not to get hurt by the long, sharp thorns.

Willy stands at the foot of the ladder, ready to catch the oranges as Miles tosses them down. Sometimes they pick five or six baskets in an afternoon. Miles says Willy is a "bery good catch." He sometimes tires of catching them; but he never tires of eating them.

I looked into the packing-room this morning, and there[140] lay seventeen hundred yellow balls. Papa lets both his little boys help wrap the oranges. Each orange is wrapped in a piece of tissue-paper that is cut just the right size. Willy always says as he begins, "Now let's see who'll beat!" Do you know what he means?

Ben cannot wrap oranges as fast as Willy; but, as they are wrapped, he hands them to papa to pack in boxes. He can read the word "Boston" that papa writes in black letters on the outside of the boxes.

Of course papa pays his workers, and they take their money all to mamma to keep for them. They have so much whispering to do about it, that I think they are saving it to buy holiday gifts.

[141]

[142]

SING, PRETTY BIRDS.

Sing, pretty birds, and build your nests, The fields are green, the skies are clear; Sing, pretty birds, and build your nests, The world is glad to have you here. Among the orchards and the groves, While summer days are fair and long, You brighten every tree and bush, You fill the air with loving song. At early dawn your notes are heard In happy greeting to the day, Your twilight voices softly tell When sunshine hours have passed away. Sing, pretty birds, and build your nests, The fields are green, the skies are clear; Sing, pretty birds, and build your nests, The world is glad to have you here. M. E. N. HATHAWAY.

[144]

MARY AND JENNY.

Mary strikes the shuttle-cock a hard blow with the battle-door. Up it goes into the air, and down it falls into the grass. There it is; but the next thing to be done is to find it. Who will pick it up?

Jenny stands with her hands behind her. She has a roguish look. What has she in her hands? Is it an apple? No. Is it an orange? No. Is it a ball? No. Guess again. Ah! I know what it is. It is the shuttle-cock. G. H. I.

[145]

DRAWING-LESSON.
VOL. XXIX.—NO. 5.

[146]

PIGGY'S SPOON.

On one side of his house there was a door that opened into a pen. The pen was in the orchard where the sweet apples grew. Sometimes in summer the apples would fall down from the trees into the pen; then piggy would pick them up and eat them. Sometimes they would strike him on his back when they fell; but he did not mind that; he was always glad to get them.

He had his bed of warm straw to sleep in at night, and every day he had as much as he wanted to eat. He had all a pig could wish for: so he was contented. One morning farmer Jackson brought a pailful of milk for piggy's breakfast. He poured the milk into the trough, and piggy made haste to come and eat it.

While he was eating, something hard and cold came into his mouth. He bit it, but found that it was not good: so he left it. He ate up all the milk. When it was gone, he saw a bright silver spoon in the bottom of the trough.

"Oh!" said piggy, "I see how it is. They would like to have me eat with a spoon; but they would never make me fat in that way. I should be hungry all the time. Now I can eat fast and grow fast, and I like my own way best."

So piggy turned up his nose at the spoon. Then he went out into the pen, and began to root in the dirt to find bits of apple. "Fine work I should make using a spoon," said piggy, and he laughed whenever he thought of it.

At night farmer Jackson came to bring his supper. He saw the spoon in the trough, took it out and carried it into the house. When his wife saw it, she said somebody had been very careless, and dropped the spoon into piggy's pail.[147] She could not find out who had done it, though she asked everybody. Then she thought that perhaps she had done it herself. She was glad to get her spoon back again, and piggy was glad to have it taken from the trough.

He had left the print of his teeth on it: so it was afterwards called "Piggy's spoon."

THE TRAVELLER.

[148]

BOUNCER.

"Have what?" said grandma smiling, as she looked up from her book. "The measles?"

"Why, grandma, of course it isn't the measles," said Ned, the eldest. "It is a dog,—a real puppy. Mrs. James told Arthur she would give it to him, if you were willing."

[149]

Grandma thought of her nice flower-beds and her well-kept driveway. She did not want to have a dog running about in them. But then she saw the three wistful faces waiting for her answer, and so she said "Yes."

Mrs. James had promised that she would bring it to Arthur by Saturday. All the boys were in haste for the[150] day to come, and Arthur said, "Now, mamma, there will be three days more and then 'dog-day.'"

Saturday came at last. Arthur sat by the front-door watching. About four o'clock in the afternoon, he came to me and said, very sadly, "Do you really think she will come to-day, mamma?"—"Yes," said I.

He took his seat on the steps, and in a few minutes I heard a joyful cry: "Here's my dog! here's my dog!" The other boys joined in the shout. Was there ever such joy!

Bouncer,—for that was the puppy's name,—was a fine water-spaniel. He grew very fast, and proved very kind and playful. The three boys became very fond of him. The first thing in the morning, and the last thing at night, they would all rush out of doors for a romp with Bouncer.

He was always ready for a frolic. Nothing pleased him so much as a dash into the lake. Then he was in his glory. He would spring into the water after any thing that the boys would throw.

Once he saved a man's hat that had blown overboard; and if the man had gone over with his hat, I have no doubt that Bouncer would have saved him too. But, as the man was safe on shore all the time, Bouncer had no chance to prove himself a hero. That wasn't Bouncer's fault, you know.

[151]

THE MOUSE-TRAP.

THE cheese smelt tempting in its little house: "I'll get it, never fear!" cried Master Mouse.	Caught in the trap, with all their might and main, His parents try to get him out again.
Alas! alas! exertions well applied Bring but a swift collapse undignified.	A happy thought: "We'll roll the box about, And thus, perchance, get valiant Brownie out!"
Still happier thought: a wall its aid extends; And Brownie, thankful for such clever friends,	Darts out in triumph, bearing high the cheese, Then shares the well-won spoil, and feasts at ease.

[152]

ONE CAT AND TWO PIGS.

[154]

HARRY AND JOHN.

Harry waves his flag to stop a train of cars. He has seen a man do it at the railroad station. But the train rushes by, and does not mind him in the least. This makes him look sad. John stands and looks on. He is dressed in a new sailor-suit. He feels so grand that he does not care whether the train stops or not. There is a very broad grin on his face. We should see it if we could make him turn round and look at us. J. K. L.

[155]

"INCHES."

His papa and mamma were Americans; but their little boy was born in Assam, and until he was four years old he had never seen any other country.

Now, you will want to know where Assam is. I will tell you. It is a kingdom in India, lying west of China, and south of the great Himalaya Mountains. Some peaks of these mountains can be seen on a clear day from the house where Inches lived.

One morning early, our little friend woke, and called out in the Assamese language (for he could not speak English), "Tezzan, take me."

Tezzan his "bearer"—so a man-nurse is called in Assam—came quickly, and dressed his little charge. Then, after giving him a slice of dry toast and a nice plantain for his breakfast, he took the little boy by the hand, and started out with him for their regular morning-walk.

They went down along the bank of the Brahmaputra River, and saw many sights that would look very strange to Americans. A little below the house, Inches called on Tezzan to stop, and let him watch some elephants that were swimming across the river. He called the elephant a hatee, giving the "a" in the word the same sound we give it when we say father.

All they could see of the elephants was the tops of their heads, and occasionally their trunks when they threw them out of the water for a fresh breath of air. The drivers stood on the necks of the elephants, with only a rope, tied round the great creatures' necks, to hold on by.

[156]

By and by they came struggling up the bank, one after another,—eight of them,—and stood panting and dripping to rest a little. Scarcely had they set their feet on dry land when a little ferry-boat came steaming along, and just as she got close to the bank she blew a long, loud whistle.

The elephants were frightened, and ran snorting and trumpeting right up the road where Inches and his bearer were standing. Inches was very much frightened, and ran too. But no harm was done, and after a little while Inches had a good laugh, when he thought how the elephants ran away from the little bustling steamer.

After this was all over and the elephants were slowly jogging along, Inches and his bearer started on again. They met many people; but very few of them were white. There were only fifteen white children to be found for many miles: so they, of course, knew each other well.[157]

Down the road, further on, they came to a sweetmeat-vender's shop. His candies and sweets were put on flat bamboo or cane plates, and all arranged outside the shop itself, on a platform made of bamboo.

Inches wished Tezzan to buy some sweets for him; but they had brought no pice, so could not. (Pice are small copper coins used in India, worth about three-fourths of one cent each.)

The little boy was on the point of crying, when he heard his mamma calling; and, sure enough, there she was, and papa, too, waiting for him in the pony-carriage. He ran quickly, and climbed into his mamma's lap, and was soon home again.

SMALL BEGINNING.

[158]

JENNY WREN.

Jenny Wren's a lady, Very quiet she: That's her pretty mansion In the hollow tree. Peep into her parlor, Carpeted with down; There you'll see her sitting In her modest gown. Jenny Wren is busy, Summer days are near, And she has a houseful: Listen, and you'll hear. Little mouths are open From the hour she wakes, And to feed her darlings All her time it takes. Jenny Wren is moving: Breezes hurry by; Purple leaves are falling; Chilly grows the sky. Long before the snowflakes Through the orchard roam, Should you call on Jenny, Nobody's at home. GEORGE COOPER.

[160]

DADDY FROG.