The Adventures of Reddy Fox  by Thornton Burgess

Unc' Billy Possum Gives Warning

"W HAT'S the matter with you, Unc' Billy? You look as if you had lost your last friend." It was Jimmy Skunk who spoke.

Unc' Billy Possum stopped short. He had been hurrying so fast that he hadn't seen Jimmy Skunk at all.

"Matter enuff, Suh! Matter enuff!" said Unc' Billy Possum, when he could get his breath. "Do you hear that noise?"

"Sure, I hear that noise. That's only Bowser the Hound chasing old Granny Fox. When she gets tired she'll lose him," replied Jimmy Skunk. "What are you worrying about Bowser the Hound for?"

"Bowser the Hound will have to be smarter than he is now befo' he can worry me, Ah reckon," said Unc' Billy Possum scornfully. "It isn't Bowser the Hound; it's Farmer Brown's boy and his gun!" Then Unc' Billy told Jimmy Skunk how he had been hiding in the wood-pile at Farmer Brown's and had heard Farmer Brown's boy say that he was going to hunt over the Green Meadows and through the Green Forest until he got Reddy Fox.

"What of it?" asked Jimmy Skunk. "If he gets Reddy Fox, so much the better. Reddy always did make trouble for other people. I don't see what you're worrying about Reddy Fox for. He's big enough to take care of himself."

"Yo' cert'nly are plumb slow in your wits this morning, Jimmy Skunk, yo' cert'nly are plumb slow! Supposing yo' should meet up with Farmer Brown's boy with that gun in his hands and supposing he had grown tired of watching fo' Reddy Fox. That gun might go off, Jimmy Skunk; it might  go off when it was pointing right straight at yo'!" said Unc' Billy Possum.

Jimmy Skunk looked serious. "That's so, Unc' Billy, that's so!" he said. "Boys with guns do get dreadfully careless, dreadfully careless. They don't seem to think anything about the feelings of those likely to get hurt when the gun goes off. What was you thinking of doing, Unc' Billy?"

"Just passing the word along so everybody in the Green Meadows and in the Green Forest will keep out of the way of Farmer Brown's boy," replied Unc' Billy Possum.

"Good idea, Unc' Billy! I'll help you," said Jimmy Skunk.

So Unc' Billy Possum went one way, and Jimmy Skunk went another way. And every one they told hurried to tell some one else. Happy Jack Squirrel told Chatterer the Red Squirrel; Chatterer told Striped Chipmunk, and Striped Chipmunk told Danny Meadow Mouse. Danny Meadow Mouse told Johnny Chuck; Johnny Chuck told Peter Rabbit; Peter Rabbit told Jumper the Hare; Jumper the Hare told Prickly Porky; Prickly Porky told Bobby Coon; Bobby Coon told Billy Mink; Billy Mink told Little Joe Otter; Little Joe Otter told Jerry Muskrat, and Jerry Muskrat told Grandfather Frog. And everybody hastened to hide from Farmer Brown's boy and his terrible gun.

Jerry Muskrat told Grandfather Frog.

By and by Farmer Brown's boy noticed how still it was in the Green Forest. Nowhere did he see or hear a bird. Nowhere could he catch a glimpse of anybody who wore fur.

"That fox must have scared away all the other animals and driven away all the birds. I'll get him! See if I don't!" muttered Farmer Brown's boy, and never once guessed that they were hiding from him.

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill, To fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down, and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after. Then up Jack got and off did trot, As fast as he could caper, To old Dame Dob, who patched his nob With vinegar and brown paper.

 

The Japanese Twins  by Lucy Fitch Perkins

The Day the Baby Came

Part 2 of 2

It was springtime and the flowers in the garden were just pushing their leaves through the ground. The sun was shining, and a little new yellow butterfly, that had only just crept out of its snug cocoon that very day, was dancing about in the sunshine.

"I suppose we were new once, too, weren't we?" said Take, watching the butterfly.

"I suppose we were," Taro answered. "We grew right up out of the root of a tree. Natsu told me so."

"I wonder which tree it was," Take said.

"It must have been one of the trees in our own garden, of course," Taro answered; "or else we shouldn't be here."

"Wouldn't it have been a terrible accident if we had happened to grow in some other garden?" said Take. She looked quite scared just at the very thought of such a thing.

"Maybe if we had we shouldn't have been ourselves at all," Taro answered. He looked a little scared, too.

"Who should we have been, then?" asked Take.

"I don't know, I'm sure," Taro said. "I can't think. But, anyway, we're lucky that it didn't happen. We're here—and we're ourselves!"

"Let's go into the garden this minute and see if we can find Bot'Chan's tree," said Take. "He's so new that maybe we can find the very spot where he grew."

"The fairies would surely hide the place so we couldn't find it," said Taro; "but we can try. Let's go softly; then maybe they won't hear us."

They tiptoed out into the garden. How I wish you could see their garden! There are all sorts of wonderful places in it! It isn't very large, but it has in it a little bit of a toy mountain, and a tiny lake with little weeny goldfish in it, and a little stream of water, like a baby river, that runs into the lake. And, best of all, there is a curved bridge, painted red, just big enough for the Twins to walk over, if they are very careful and don't bounce! The Twins' Grandfather made this garden for their Father to play in when he was a little boy, so they all love it dearly.

There are iris plants and lilies beside the tiny lake, and a funny little pine tree—a very little pine tree, just a few feet high—grows out of some rocks on the side of the mountain.

The Twins crossed the tiny red bridge and crept up the stepping-stones on the mountain-side until they reached the little pine tree.

"Do you s'pose it could be the pine tree?" Take whispered.

"Maybe; it's so small—just the right size for Bot'Chan," Taro whispered back.

The Twins looked carefully all around the pine tree, but its trunk was gnarled and old. It is hard to believe that so little a tree could be so old, but the Japanese know how to keep a tree small, like a toy tree, even if it has been growing for a hundred years.

This tree wasn't a hundred years old, because their Grandfather had set it out when the Twins' Father was a little boy, and the Twins' Father wasn't anywhere near a hundred years old.

"I don't believe a darling little pink baby could ever grow here," said Take, when she had looked all around the pine tree. "Let's look at the plum tree."

They ran to the plum tree that stood at the other end of the garden. They looked all about it.

On the south side of the plum tree, in the sunshine, there was a long branch near the ground; and on the branch—what do you think?—there was a whole row of tiny pink buds, almost ready to burst into bloom!

"Oh, Taro, Taro, look here!" Take cried. "Here's the Baby's very own branch; I'm sure of it, for there aren't any other buds on the whole tree that are as near out as these!"

"Let's cut off this spray and carry it into the house to put in the vase," said Taro.

"Oh, yes, and I'll show Mother how beautifully I can arrange it—just the way I was taught to do it," Take answered. "Nothing could be nicer for a baby's flower than a dear little branch like this with pink buds on it!"

"I'll break it for you," said Taro. "I'm strong." He broke the branch carefully, just where Take told him to. He took great pains not to tear the bark or hurt the tree.

Then they carried it into the house. In one corner of the room there was a little alcove. There is one in every Japanese house. It is called the "honorable recess," and it is where their most beautiful things are placed. There is always a picture—or perhaps two or three of them—hanging like long banners on the wall at the back of the "honorable recess." These banner pictures are called kakemono. There is also a small table with a vase on it standing near. In this vase there are always flowers, or a beautiful branch with green leaves. In Japan the little girls are taught to arrange flowers just as carefully as they are taught to read, so that the "honorable recess" may be kept beautiful to look at.

Take filled the vase with water. She fitted a little forked stick into the top of the vase, and stuck the plum branch through the crotch of the forked stick, so it wouldn't fall over. She twisted it this way and that until it looked just right. Then she called Taro to see it.

On the wall of the recess was the picture of a black crow perched on the branch of a pine tree, in a rainstorm. His shoulders were all hunched up to shed the rain, and he didn't look happy at all. He looked funny and miserable.

The Twins looked at the honorable recess a long time. Their Father came and looked too. Then Taro said, "I don't think that crow in the rainstorm looks right hanging up beside the plum branch. The crow looks so sorry, and we are all so glad."

"I think just the same," said Take.

"So do I," said their Father. "How would you like to go out to the Kura and see if we can find a real happy picture to hang up there?"

Taro and Take jumped up and down and clapped their hands for joy, they were so glad to go out to the "Kura."

The "Kura" is a little fireproof house in the garden. You can see the corner of the roof sticking out from behind the mountain in the picture. In it Taro and Take and their Father and Mother and Grandmother keep all their greatest treasures. That is why Taro and Take were so glad to go there.

Nearly everybody in Japan has just such a safe little house in the garden. Maybe you can guess the reason why. It isn't only because of fires. It's because of earthquakes too.

Every once in a while—almost every day, in fact—the earth trembles and shakes in the Happy Islands. The houses are built mostly of wood and paper, and if the earthquakes tumble them over, they sometimes catch fire, but if the nicest things are safe in the Kura, it doesn't matter so much, if the house is burned up, you see.

There are always plenty of fires for boys to see in Japan.

Taro had seen ever so many, before he was five years old, and the Twins had both felt ever so many earthquakes. They were so used to them that they didn't mind them any more than you mind a thundershower.

All of Taro's kites were kept in the Kura. The big dragon kite had a box all to itself; Take's thirty-five dolls were there, too;—but, dear me,—here I am telling you about kites and dolls, when I should be telling you about the picture of the crow, and what they did with it!

First the Twins' Father took it down off the wall and rolled it up. Then he took it in his hand, and he and Taro and Take all went out into the garden.

When they reached the Kura, the Father unlocked the door, and all three stepped inside.

It was not very light, but the air was sweet and spicy. On the shelves about the room were many beautiful boxes of all sizes and shapes.

The Father reached up to a high shelf and took down three boxes, that looked just alike on the outside. He opened the first and took out a roll neatly wrapped and tied with a silk string. It was this picture of a Japanese lady who has run out quickly to take her washing off the line because of a shower of rain.

He held it up high so the Twins could see it.

"Ho, ho," laughed Taro. "The lady has lost her clog, she is in such a hurry!"

"She's just as wet as the crow," Take said, "and I don't believe she feels a bit happier!"

"She'll be wetter still before she gets her washing in, won't she?" the Father said. "The clouds seem to have burst just over her head! And, dear me,—how the wind is blowing her about! No, she won't do beside the plum branch."

He opened another box and unrolled the next picture. Here it is.

Taro and Take looked at it a long time.

Then Take said, "What a beautiful dress the lady has on! I'd like to dress just like that when I grow up!"

"But she is walking out in the snow with an umbrella over her head," said Taro. "It isn't winter now."

Then the Father unrolled the third.

"How do you like this one?" he asked.

It was a picture of a bird with a grasshopper in her bill, flying to a nest with three little birds in it. The little birds had their mouths wide open.

"Oh, that's the very one!" cried Take. "It's just like Mother, taking care of Taro and the Baby and me! Let's take that one."

So they left that one out and carefully rolled up the others and put them back in place. They put the crow away too.

The Twins were just turning round to go out the door when their Father reached down one more package from a high shelf. "Wait a minute," he said; "I have some thing else to show you."

The package was long and thin, and the covering was a piece of silk with the family crest embroidered on it in colored silks.

This was the crest.

Taro and Take knew it at once, for it was embroidered or stamped upon the sleeves of their kimonos. It was the sign of their family.

The Father took off this cover. Under it was a covering of brocaded silk.

It seemed a long time to the Twins before it was all unwrapped, they were so eager to see what was in the package.

At last their Father held up a beautiful sword with both his hands.

It was a long sword, with a handle of carved ivory, and a sheath with curious designs on it.

The Father bowed to the sword.

"You bow to the sword also, my son," he said to Taro. "It is wonderfully made. It commands respect."

Taro bowed to the sword.

Then his Father drew the long blade from the sheath. He turned the edge carefully toward himself, and away from the Twins. "I want you to see this sword, Taro," he said, "for some time it will be yours, because you are my oldest son."

"Whose was it?" asked Taro.

"It was your Grandfather's sword," his Father answered, "and you are old enough now to know what it means. I want you to remember what I say to you as long as you live.

"Your Grandfather was a gentleman, a Samurai of Japan. This was the sword he always wore. Many years ago there was trouble in Japan, and to help the Emperor, all the great dukes in the kingdom gave up their dukedoms. The Samurai also gave up their honorable positions in the service of these dukes, and became common citizens.

"Then your Grandfather put away his sword. Years after, when he was old, he gave it to me. But I do not wear it either, although I too am of the Samurai, and the sword is their badge of honor. It is much better to keep it safely here, and think sometimes of what it means, than to wear it only for display. You can show that you are a son of the Samurai, by acting as a gentleman should act. You do not need the sword for that. A Samurai should never do a mean thing. He should keep his life clean and shining, like the sword. And he must always do what is best for Japan, whether it is best for him or not."

This was a long speech. The Twins listened with all their ears,—four of them,—but they did not quite understand it all.

They understood that their Father loved the sword, and that some time it was to be Taro's, and that he must be a brave, good boy or he would not be worthy of it; and that was a good deal, after all.

"May I touch it?" Taro asked.

"You may take it in your own hands," said his Father. And he gave it to Taro almost as tenderly as he had given Bot'Chan to Take that morning.

He showed him the polite way to hold it, with the edge toward himself.

Then while Taro held the sword, his Father said: "I want to tell you a poem that our Emperor's father wrote while he was Emperor, and by and by when you are bigger I want you to learn it by heart. Then, when you are a man, and look at the sword, you will remember it. This is the poem:

"There is no second way whereby to show The love of Fatherland, Whether one stand, A soldier under arms, against the foe, Or stay at home a peaceful citizen, The way of loyalty is still the same."

The Father's voice was very solemn as he said this verse.

The Twins were quite still as he wrapped the sword in its silken coverings and put it back again on the high shelf.

This was a long time for Take to be quiet, but she was thinking. When their Father had locked the Kura and they were on their way to the house with the picture of the birds, she said to him, "Father, am I not a child of the Samurai, too?"

"Yes, my daughter," her Father answered, "but you are a girl. It is not your fault, little one," he added kindly. "We cannot all be boys, of course. But to the keeping of the Sons is given the honor of the Family. It is a great trust."

"Don't I do anything at all for the honor of my Family?" asked Take.

"When you are grown up you will marry and live with your husband's family and serve them in every way you can," her Father answered. "You will belong to them, you see. Now, you must just be a good girl and mind your Father and Grandmother, and Mother, and your brothers."

"I'm just as old as Taro," said little Take, "and I think I know just as much. Why can't he mind me some of the time? I think it would be fair to take turns!"

"But Taro is a boy,"  said her Father. "That makes all the difference in the world. Japanese girls must always mind their brothers!"

"Must I mind Bot'Chan, too?" asked Take.

"Yes, Bot'Chan, too."

"Won't anybody ever mind me at all?" asked Take.

"When you get to be a mother-in-law, then you can have your turn," said her Father, smiling. "Your son's wife will obey you."

"Will my son obey me, too?" asked Take.

"No, you must obey him if he is the head of the house," her Father explained.

"It's a very long time to wait," sighed Take, "and nothing but a daughter-in-law to mind me at last."

Her under lip puckered a little and she frowned—a little frown—right in the middle of her forehead.

"Tut, tut," said her Father. "Girls and women should always be gentle and smiling. You must never frown."

He looked quite shocked at the very idea of such a thing.

Take tried to look pleasant, and a funny thing is that when you make yourself look pleasant, you begin to feel so, too. Take felt pleasant almost right away.

They went into the house and hung the picture of the mother bird in the place of the crow, beside the spray of plum. When it was all done, this is the way the honorable recess looked.

Take looked at it for a while, and then she said, "I don't believe I shall feel sorry about minding Bot'Chan after all, because I love him so much."

"That's the way a little Japanese girl should feel," said her Father. "Now, come in and let us take a look at him."

They found Bot'Chan awake. Take knelt down on the mat in front of him, to see him better.

"Put your head down on the matting, Take," her Father said, and Take bowed her head to the floor.

Then the Father took the Baby in his arms and placed his tiny foot on Take's neck.

"That means that you must always do what he wants you to," he said.

"I will," said little Take. The Mother smiled at Take as she knelt on the floor with the Baby's foot on her neck.

Then she turned her face the other way on her little wooden pillow and sighed—just a very gentle little sigh, that nobody heard at all.

 

Mother Goose  by Frederick Richardson

Tommy Tittlemouse

 

Fairy Tales Too Good To Miss—In the Meadow  by Lisa M. Ripperton

The Straw Ox

HERE was once upon a time an old man and an old woman. The old man worked in the fields as a pitch burner, while the old woman sat at home and spun flax. They were so poor that they could save nothing at all; all their earnings went in bare food, and when that was gone there was nothing left. At last the old woman had a good idea.

"Look, now, husband," cried she; "make me a straw ox, and smear it all over with tar."

"Why, you foolish woman!" said he; "what's the good of such an ox?"

"Never mind," said she; "you just make it. I know what I am about."

What was the poor man to do?

He set to work and made the ox of straw, and smeared it all over with tar.

The night passed away, and at early dawn the old woman took her distaff and drove the straw ox out to graze, and she herself sat down behind a hillock and began spinning her flax, and cried:

"Graze away, little ox, while I spin my flax; graze away, little ox, while I spin my flax!" And while she spun, her head drooped down, and she began to doze, and while she was dozing, from behind the dark wood and from the back of the huge pines a bear came rushing out upon the ox and said:

"Who are you? Speak and tell me!"

And the ox said:

"A three-year-old heifer am I, made of straw and smeared with tar."

"Oh!" said the bear, "stuffed with straw and trimmed with tar, are you? Then give me of your straw and tar, that I may patch up my ragged fur again!"

"Take some," said the ox, and the bear fell upon him and began to tear away at the tar.

He tore and tore, and buried his teeth in it till he found he couldn't let go again. He tugged and he tugged, but it was no good, and the ox dragged him gradually off, goodness knows where. Then the old woman awoke, and there was no ox to be seen. "Alas! old fool that I am!" cried she, "perchance it has gone home." Then she quickly caught up her distaff and spinning-board, threw them over her shoulders, and hastened off home, and she saw that the ox had dragged the bear up to the fence, and in she went to her old man. "Dad, dad!" she cried, "look, look! the ox has brought us a bear. Come out and kill it!" Then the old man jumped up, tore off the bear, tied him up, and threw him in the cellar.

Next morning, between dark and dawn, the old woman took her distaff and drove the ox into the steppe to graze. She herself sat down by a mound, began spinning, and said:

"Graze, graze away, little ox, while I spin my flax! Graze, graze away, little ox, while I spin my flax!" And while she spun, her head drooped down, and she dozed. And, lo! from behind the dark wood, from the back of the huge pines, a gray wolf came rushing out upon the ox and said:

"Who are you? Come, tell me!"

"I am a three-year-old heifer, stuffed with straw and trimmed with tar," said the ox.

"Oh, trimmed with tar, are you? Then give me of your tar to tar my sides, that the dogs and the sons of dogs tear me not!"

"Take some," said the ox. And with that the wolf fell upon him and tried to tear the tar off. He tugged and tugged and tore with his teeth, but could get none off. Then he tried to let go, and couldn't; tug and worry as he might, it was no good.

When the old woman woke, there was no ox in sight. "Maybe my ox has gone home!" she cried; "I'll go home and see." When she got there she was astonished, for by the paling stood the ox with the wolf still tugging at it. She ran and told her old man, and her old man came and threw the wolf into the cellar also.

On the third day the old woman again drove her ox into the pastures to graze, and sat down by a mound and dozed off.

Then a fox came running up. "Who are you?" it asked the ox.

"I'm a three-year-old heifer, stuffed with straw and daubed with tar."

"Then give me some of your tar to smear my sides with, when those dogs and sons of dogs tear my hide!"

"Take some," said the ox. Then the fox fastened her teeth in him and couldn't draw them out again. The old woman told her old man, and he took and cast the fox into the cellar in the same way. And after that they caught Pussy Swiftfoot likewise.

So when he had got them all safely, the old man sat down on a bench before the cellar and began sharpening a knife. And the bear said to him:

"Tell me, daddy, what are you sharpening your knife for?"

"To flay your skin off, that I may make a leather jacket for myself and a pelisse for my old woman."

"Oh, don't flay me, daddy dear! Rather let me go, and I'll bring you a lot of honey."

"Very well, see that you do it," and he unbound and let the bear go. Then he sat down on the bench and again began sharpening his knife. And the wolf asked him:

"Daddy, what are you sharpening your knife for?"

"To flay off your skin, that I may make me a warm cap against the winter."

"Oh! Don't flay me, daddy dear, and I'll bring you a whole herd of little sheep."

"Well, see that you do it," and he let the wolf go.

Then he sat down, and began sharpening his knife again.

The fox put out her little snout, and asked him:

"Be so kind, dear daddy, and tell me why you are sharpening your knife?"

"Little foxes," said the old man, "have nice skins that do capitally for collars and trimmings, and I want to skin you!"

"Oh! Don't take my skin away, daddy dear, and I will bring you hens and geese."

"Very well, see that you do it!" and he let the fox go.

The hare now alone remained and the old man began sharpening his knife on the hare's account.

"Why do you do that?" asked the hare, and he replied:

"Little hares have nice little, soft, warm skins, which will make me nice gloves and mittens against the winter!"

"Oh, daddy dear! Don't flay me, and I'll bring you kale and good cauliflower, if only you let me go!"

Then he let the hare go also.

They then went to bed: but very early in the morning, when it was neither dusk nor dawn, there was a noise in the doorway like "Durrrrrr!"

"Daddy!" cried the old woman, "there's some one scratching at the door; go and see who it is!"

The old man went out, and there was the bear carrying a whole hive full of honey. The old man took the honey from the bear.

No sooner did he lie down than again there was another "Durrrrr!" at the door.

The old man looked out and saw the wolf driving a whole flock of sheep into the courtyard. Close on his heels came the fox, driving before him geese and hens, and all manner of fowls; and last all came the hare, bringing cabbage and kale, and all manner of good food.

And the old man was glad, and the old woman was glad. And the old man sold the sheep and oxen, and got so rich that he needed nothing more.

As for the straw-stuffed ox, it stood in the sun till it fell to pieces.

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

The Alphabet

A, B, C, and D, Pray, playmates, agree. E, F, and G, Well, so it shall be. J, K, and L, In peace we will dwell. M, N, and O, To play let us go. P, Q, R, and S, Love may we possess. W, X, and Y, Will not quarrel or die. Z, and ampersand, Go to school at command.

 

Among the Meadow People  by Clara Dillingham Pierson

An Ant That Wore Wings

I N one of the Ant-hills in the highest part of the meadow, were a lot of young Ants talking together. "I," said one, "am going to be a soldier, and drive away anybody who comes to make us trouble. I try biting hard things every day to make my jaws strong, so that I can guard the home better."

"I," said another and smaller Ant, "want to be a worker. I want to help build and repair the home. I want to get the food for the family, and feed the Ant babies, and clean them off when they crawl out of their old coats. If I can do those things well, I shall be the happiest, busiest Ant in the meadow."

"We don't want to live that kind of life," said a couple of larger Ants with wings. "We don't mean to stay around the Ant-hill all the time and work. We want to use our wings, and then you may be very sure that you won't see us around home any more."

The little worker spoke up: "Home is a pleasant place. You may be very glad to come back to it some day." But the Ants with the wings turned their backs and wouldn't listen to another word.

A few days after this there were exciting times in the Ant-hill. All the winged Ants said "Good-bye" to the soldiers and workers, and flew off through the air, flew so far that the little ones at home could no longer see them. All day long they were gone, but the next morning when the little worker (whom we heard talking) went out to get breakfast, she found the poor winged Ants lying on the ground near their home. Some of them were dead, and the rest were looking for food.

The worker Ant ran up to the one who had said she didn't want to stay around home, and asked her to come back to the Ant-hill. "No, I thank you," she answered. "I have had my breakfast now, and am going to fly off again." She raised her wings to go, but after she had given one flutter, they dropped off, and she could never fly again.

The worker hurried back to the Ant-hill to call some of her sister workers, and some of the soldiers, and they took the Ant who had lost her wings and carried her to another part of the meadow. There they went to work to build a new home and make her their queen.

First, they looked for a good, sandy place, on which the sun would shine all day. Then the worker Ants began to dig in the ground and bring out tiny round pieces of earth in their mouths. The soldiers helped them, and before night they had a cosy little home in the earth, with several rooms, and some food already stored. They took their queen in, and brought her food to eat, and waited on her, and she was happy and contented.

By and by the Ant eggs began to hatch, and the workers had all they could do to take care of their queen and her little Ant babies, and the soldier Ants had to help. The Ant babies were little worms or grubs when they first came out of the eggs; after a while they curled up in tiny, tiny cases, called pupa-cases, and after another while they came out of these, and then they looked like the older Ants, with their six legs, and their slender little waists. But whatever they were, whether eggs, or grubs, or curled up in the pupa-cases, or lively little Ants, the workers fed and took care of them, and the soldiers fought for them, and the queen-mother loved them, and they all lived happily together until the young Ants were ready to go out into the great world and learn the lessons of life for themselves.

 

A Book of Nursery Rhymes  by Francis D. Bedford

Willy Boy

 

More Mother Stories  by Maud Lindsay

The Little Pig

Once upon a time a little black and white pig with a curly tail went out to take a morning walk. He intended to go to the Mud Puddle, but before he got there he came to a garden gate that was stretched wide open.

"Umph, umph," said the little pig when he saw it, "isn't this fine? I have wanted to get into this garden ever since I can remember"; and in he went as fast as his four short legs could carry him.

"Umph, umph," said the little pig, "I have wanted to get into this garden ever since I can remember."

The garden was full of flowers. There were pansies, and daisies, and violets, and honeysuckles, and all the bright flowers that you can name. Everything was in the proper place. There were tulips on either side of the garden walk, and holly-hocks stood in a straight row against the fence. The pansies had a garden bed all to themselves, and the young vines were just beginning to climb up on the frame that the gardener had made for their special benefit.

"Umph, umph, nice place," said the little pig, and he put his nose down in the pansy bed and began to root up the pansies, for he thought that was the way to behave in a garden.

While he was enjoying himself there the brown hen came down the road with her family. She had thirteen children, and she was looking for a nice rich spot where they might scratch for their breakfast. When she saw the open gate she was delighted.

"Cluck, cluck, come on," she said to her chicks.

"Peep, peep, peep," said the little chickens, "is it a worm?"

"It is a beautiful garden, and there is nothing that I like better than to scratch in a garden," answered the hen, as she bustled through the gate. The chickens followed her, and soon they were all busy scratching among the violets.

They had not been there very long when the red cow walked by the garden. She was on her way to the Pond, but when she saw the open garden gate she decided at once to go in.

"Moo, moo," she said, "this is delightful. Tender flowers are such a treat," and she swished her tail over her back as she nipped the daisies from their stems.

"Cluck," said the hen, "Peep," said the chicks, "Umph," said the little pig, for they were pleased to have company. While they were talking a rabbit with very bright eyes peeped in at the gate.

"Oh, is it a party?" he said when he saw the red cow, and the pig with a curly tail, and the hen and chickens.

"Come in," said the pig, "and help yourself. There is plenty of room." So the rabbit hopped into the garden and nibbled the green leaves and the young vines.

"How many of us are here?" asked the red cow, but before any of them could count, the gardener came home.

When he  looked into the garden he began to cry, "Oh, my pretty pansies! my dear daisies! my sweet violets! my tender young vines!"

"What is he talking about?" said the chickens.

"I suppose he wants us to go out," answered the hen, and she ruffled her feathers and quarreled as the gardener came hurrying toward them.

Then the cow ran one way and the pig ran another. The little chickens got lost in the bushes, and the rabbit hid in the vines. The hen cackled, and the pig squealed, and the gardener scolded. By the time he had driven them all out of the garden the sun was high in the sky.

"Umph, umph," cried the little pig, as he scampered down the road, "we will all come back to-morrow."

But when they went back the next day the garden gate was fastened close, and not even the smallest chicken could get inside.

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

Dance to Your Daddie

Dance to your daddie, My bonnie laddie; Dance to your daddie, my bonnie lamb; You shall get a fishy, On a little dishy; You shall get a fishy, when the boat comes home.

 

The Sandman: More Farm Stories  by Willliam J. Hopkins

The Little Garden Story

NCE upon a time there was a farm-house, and it was painted white and had green blinds; and it stood not far from the road. In the fence was a wide gate to let the wagons through to the barn. And the wagons, going through, had made a little track that led up past the kitchen door and past the shed and past the barn and past the orchard to the wheat-field.

Next to the orchard was the garden field. And in one corner of the garden field was a little square piece of it that had a fence around, so that it was a little garden. The bigness of it was just so that little John took ten long steps going across, each way. When little John asked Uncle John why there was a fence around that little garden, Uncle John didn't remember but he said that little John might have that little garden for his own, if he would like it. And he might plant anything he wanted to, and what grew there would be all his own, but he must take care of it himself. And little John was glad and said he would like it. When that happened, it was in the springtime, and Uncle John was just ploughing the garden field.

So little John got his hoe and his shovel from the shed, and he walked across the little track and across the grass place and across the big garden to his little garden. And he went in and began to dig the ground all up, to make it soft and fine. For the plough couldn't get into that little garden. It was hard work, digging, and little John got so tired that he had to stop and finish it the next day. Then he broke up all the lumps of dirt with his hoe and made it very fine and nice with his rake.

The next morning, little John asked Uncle John to give him some corn to plant. But Uncle John said he couldn't give away seed corn to farmers. He would sell some to little John, or he would lend him some. Little John couldn't buy any, so he said he would like to have his father lend him some, and he would pay it back when his own corn was ripe. So Uncle John laughed and let him have as much corn as he wanted.

Then little John took his little bag of corn, and he walked across the track and the grass place and the garden field to his own garden. And he began at one corner of the little garden, and he made five little holes in the soft dirt, just as he had seen Uncle John do, and in those holes he put grains of corn, one in each hole, and covered them over with dirt.

He made five little holes in the soft dirt.

Then he took a long step, as long as he could, and he made five other little holes and planted five other grains of corn. And that way he planted his whole garden with corn. Then he went away.

Every day, little John went to his garden, to see if the corn had come up, and to see that no crows came to eat the corn he had planted, and to see that weeds didn't grow. If any weeds grew, he would hoe them up and throw them away. And one morning, nearly two weeks after he had planted the corn, he came running back, and he saw Uncle John and he called out, "My corn's up and yours isn't." And that made Uncle John laugh, and he went with little John, and, sure enough, there were the little points of the blades of corn poking up through the dirt, pushing up little lumps of dirt ahead of them.

So little John's corn grew, faster and faster, and it got taller and taller. And every day little John went to his garden, and when he found any weeds there, he hoed them up and threw them away. And almost every day, he raked the dirt between the hills of corn, to make it fine, so that the water that was in the ground wouldn't dry out. For the corn needed to have the dirt a little wet where the roots were, or it couldn't grow. And the corn stalks got as high as little John's head, and then they got a good deal higher than his head, and at last the tassels came at the top.

After the tassels came at the top of the stalks of corn, the ears of corn began to grow lower down. Each stalk had one or two or three ears on it, and each ear came just where one of the long leaves came out of the stalk, and the ear of corn was wrapped up in a case of green leaves, very tightly. And the ears of corn got bigger and bigger and fatter and fatter, but they were all soft. Little John knew they were soft, because he felt of all of them every day, to see. And when the ears of corn were pretty big, but before they were hard, the woodchucks began to come.

Woodchucks like corn, and they know where it is planted, because they go around and find out. And when they found little John's corn, they waited until it was big enough for them to eat, and then they tried to steal some of it. They did steal some of it, before little John knew they were there. But after that he watched very carefully and he set traps for them, twitch-ups and every other kind he knew about. And he caught a good many in his traps. When a woodchuck was caught in his trap, Uncle John took it and carried it away.

At last, when the summer was all over, the tassels got all yellow and brown, and little John knew the corn was ripe, for the leaves were beginning to wither, too. So he wondered how he could cut it down. He wasn't big enough or strong enough to cut it himself, with the heavy, sharp knives, and he went to Uncle John and asked him if he would please to cut his corn down for him. And Uncle John said he couldn't afford to work for other farmers for nothing, but he would cut it down for three ears of corn. So little John laughed and said he would give three ears of corn for cutting it.

Then Uncle John took his heavy knife and he went to the little garden and cut down all little John's corn stalks. And little John pulled the ears of corn off the stalks and he pulled the tight case of leaves from each ear. The leaves weren't so tight on the ears when the corn was ripe. Then he put all the ears of corn into the wheelbarrow and he wheeled the wheelbarrow across the garden field and across the grass place and across the little track to the barn. There he sat down on a milking stool and he rubbed all the grains of corn off and put them into bags. And the cobs he left in the wheelbarrow. The cobs are the parts of the ears of corn that are left after the grains of corn have all been rubbed off. Some of them they ground up for the cows to eat, with meal and hay, and some of them they burned.

When little John had rubbed all the corn off the cobs and put it into bags, he paid Uncle John corn enough for cutting the stalks, and then he paid as much corn as Uncle John had lent him to plant. And after he had paid all that corn, he had a good deal left in bags, and that he put in the place where they kept the things for market. And when Uncle John went to market, he carried little John's corn, and he sold it to the market man. The money the market man gave him for little John's corn he gave to little John, to have for his own. And he could buy anything he wanted to with it.

And that's all.

 

Ring o' Roses  by L. Leslie Brooke

Goosey, Goosey Gander

Goosey, Goosey Gander, Where shall I wander?

Upstairs, downstairs, And in my lady's chamber.

There I met an old man That would not say his prayers: I took him by the left leg, And threw him downstairs.

 

The Nursery Book of Bible Stories  by Amy Steedman

Solomon, the Wise King

I T is a wonderful thing to be a king. Solomon, David's son, knew this well. To be a real king, a great ruler and guide, a man must be just and wise and strong. And here was he, Solomon, but newly come to man's estate, called to sit upon the throne and carry on the work of his father David. To him was to be given the great task of building God's house and ruling His people. The hands of David had been stained with blood, for he had been a great fighter; and so God had not allowed him the honour of building that temple. Solomon, the young king, whose very name meant "peace," could at least bring clean, unstained hands to the work.

But how was he to learn to be wise enough and strong enough to rule and govern God's chosen people—to be a real king? The great responsibility weighed heavily, and the question troubled him, even in his dreams, until at last one night the answer came. He had laid down to rest as usual, and had fallen asleep, when in the midst of his dreams he heard a voice speaking to him. He listened, and knew at once that it was the voice of God.

"Ask what I shall give thee," said the Voice. Solomon was not startled or afraid. David, his father, had taught him to love and trust God, and he answered at once.

"O Lord my God," he said, "Thou hast made Thy servant king instead of David my father: and I am but a little child: I know not how to go out or come in. And Thy servant is in the midst of Thy people which Thou hast chosen, a great people, that cannot be numbered nor counted for multitude. Give therefore Thy servant an understanding heart to judge Thy people, that I may discern between good and bad."

It was wisdom that Solomon wanted more than anything else, and his answer pleased God. He might so easily have asked instead for a long life or for great riches, or triumphant victory over all his enemies; but because he had chosen well, God granted his request.

"Lo, I have given thee a wise and an understanding heart," said the Voice: "so that there was none like thee before thee, neither after thee shall any arise like unto thee. And I have also given thee that which thou hast not asked, both riches and honour: so that there shall not be any among the kings like unto thee all thy days."

While that Voice still sounded in his ears Solomon awoke. Had it indeed been only a dream? It had been something more than that, he knew. Everything was changed. All his doubts and difficulties had vanished. He was sure of himself, and was no longer afraid of fulfilling the duties of a king. And ere long the change was noticed by others too as the young king began to rule.

"The king turned his face about, and blessed all the congregation of Israel."

The first case he was called upon to judge was a difficult one.

Two women stood before him: one, with angry, flashing eyes, held in her arms a little dead baby; the other, whose face was full of sorrowful pleading, clasped to her breast a living child.

The angry woman pushed forward and spoke first. They both lived in the same house, she said, and in the night that other woman's child had died, and she had crept out and changed the babies, carrying away the living child, and leaving the dead baby in its place.

"No, no," said the other woman, holding the living baby closer in her arms, "the child is mine, the dead one is thine."

The angry woman would not listen; the living child belonged to her, she declared again.

All eyes were turned on the young king. How would he decide? There was no possible way of finding out the truth.

"Bring me a sword," rang out the order.

In great astonishment they brought a sword and placed it in the king's hand.

"Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one, and half to the other," he said calmly.

The woman with the sorrowful eyes sprang forward, and a great cry burst from her lips: "O my lord, give her the living child, and in no wise slay it."

But the angry woman was more than content, and her voice drowned the other's as she cried: "Let it be neither mine nor thine, but divide it."

The king looked down on the little helpless baby and on the sword in his hand. Of course, he did not mean to hurt the child. It was only a wise test, and it had answered well. With a kindly glance at the poor, weeping woman, he gave his judgment.

"Give her the living child, and in no wise slay it," he said: "she is the mother."

He knew that a real mother would rather give up her child than have it killed; and it was only a pretended mother who could ask to have it cut in half.

So Solomon's wisdom began early to be proved, and the people grew very proud of their wise young king. Never before had the country been as rich and prosperous as under his rule, and very soon the work of building that great temple of God's house was begun.

It would take a whole book to tell of the building of that wonderful place, of the gold and silver and precious stones, of the beautiful wood and marbles and ivory that went to make it the wonder of the world. But at last it was finished, and when it was dedicated to God King Solomon stood forth in all his kingly robes, and amidst the splendour of the great festival spoke words of great wisdom to the people.

Far and wide the fame of Solomon spread. People talked of his riches and the splendour of his court, but, above all, of his great wisdom. From far away Sheba the dark queen came with her great train of camels laden with gold and precious stones, to see for herself if this king was as great and wise and rich as people said. She meant to test him with difficult questions, and she also wished to show him that she too possessed great riches.

But the wealth and splendour of Solomon's court went far beyond her dreams. She saw him arrayed in his royal purple robes, sitting upon his ivory throne overlaid with gold, each ivory step guarded by a golden lion. She listened to his quick, wise answers to all her puzzling questions, and she could only hold out her hands to him in deep humility, and confess that there were no words to describe his glory.

Queen of Sheba's Visit

But all these riches and all this splendour and honour could not make Solomon a contented or happy man. His great navies swept the seas, and brought him cargoes of rich silks, of gold and silver and ivory, apes and peacocks, horses and mules, and everything that heart could desire, but they could not bring him happiness. At the end of his life, weary of pleasures and of learning, he called all these things "vanity of vanities." Looking back to the time when he was an eager boy, when God's voice had spoken to him in that long-ago dream, he knew now that there was something even better than the wisdom he had asked for.

"Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter," wrote the weary old king, he who had enjoyed every pleasure of life, with all its honour and glory, all its wisdom and learning. "Fear God, and keep His commandments: for this is the whole duty of man."

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

One Misty Moisty Morning

One misty moisty morning, When cloudy was the weather, I chanced to meet an old man, Clothed all in leather. He began to compliment And I began to grin. How do you do? And how do you do? And how do you do again?