Text of Plan #938
  WEEK 13  


The Adventures of Reddy Fox  by Thornton Burgess

Reddy Fox Has a Visitor

H ARDLY was old Granny Fox out of sight on her way to hunt for the chicken she had left on the hill, when Unc' Billy Possum came strolling along the Lone Little Path. He was humming to himself, for he had just had a good breakfast. One of the Merry Little Breezes spied him and hurried to meet him and tell him about how Reddy Fox had been shot.

Unc' Billy listened, and the grin with which he had greeted the Merry Little Breeze grew into a broad smile.

"Are yo' all sure about that?" he asked.

The Merry Little Breeze was sure.

Unc' Billy Possum stopped for a few minutes and considered.

"Serves that no 'count Reddy Fox right," chuckled Unc' Billy. "He done spoil mah hunting at Farmer Brown's, he raised such a fuss among the hens up there. 'Tisn't safe to go there any mo'! No, Suh, 'tisn't safe, and it won't be safe for a right smart while. Did yo' say that Granny Fox is home?"

The Merry Little Breeze hadn't said anything about Granny Fox, but now remembered that she had gone up the hill.

"Ah believe Ah will just tote my sympathy over to Reddy Fox," said Unc' Billy Possum, as he started in the direction of Reddy Fox's house. But he made sure that old Granny Fox was not at home before he showed himself.

Reddy Fox lay on his door-step. He was sick and sore and stiff. Indeed, he was so stiff he couldn't walk at all. And he was weak—weak and hungry, dreadfully hungry. When he heard footsteps, he thought old Granny Fox was bringing him the chicken after which she had gone. He felt too ill even to turn his head.

"Did you get the chicken, Granny?" he asked weakly. No one answered. "I say, did you get the chicken, Granny?" Reddy's voice sounded a little sharp and cross as he asked this time.

Still there was no reply, and Reddy began to be a little bit suspicious. He turned over and raised his head to look. Instead of old Granny Fox, there was Unc' Billy Possum grinning at him.

"Smarty, Smarty is a thief!

Smarty, Smarty came to grief!

Tried to show off just for fun

And ran too near a loaded gun.

"Yo' all certainly has got just what yo' deserve, and Ah'm glad of it! Ah'm glad of it, Suh!" said Unc' Billy Possum severely.

An angry light came into the eyes of Reddy Fox and made them an ugly yellow for just a minute. But he felt too sick to quarrel. Unc' Billy Possum saw this. He saw how Reddy was really suffering, and down deep in his heart Unc' Billy was truly sorry for him. But he didn't let Reddy know it. No, indeed! He just pretended to be tickled to death to see Reddy Fox so helpless. He didn't dare stay long, for fear Granny Fox would return. So, after saying a few more things to make Reddy feel uncomfortable, Unc' Billy started off up the Lone Little Path toward the Green Forest.

"Too bad! Too bad!" he muttered to himself. "If ol' Granny Fox isn't smart enough to get Reddy enough to eat, Ah'll have to see what we-alls can do. Ah cert'nly will."


The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

The Black Hen


Hickety, pickety, my black hen,

She lays eggs for gentlemen;

Gentlemen come every day

To see what my black hen doth lay.


  WEEK 13  


The Eskimo Twins  by Lucy Fitch Perkins

The Voyage

Part 1 of 2


W HEN the twins awoke, the sun was shining as brightly as ever, and Nip and Tup were barking at them through the hole in the roof.

Kesshoo and Koolee were gone!

Menie and Monnie were frightened. They were afraid they were left behind. They sat up in bed and howled!

In a moment Koolee's face looked down at them through the roof.

"What's the matter?" she said.

"We thought we were left," wailed Monnie!

"As if I could leave you behind!" cried Koolee.

She laughed at them. "Hand up the skins to me," she said. She reached her arm down the hole and pulled out all the skins from the bed as fast as the twins gave them to her.

Then she put her head down into the opening and looked all around. "We haven't left a thing," she said; "come along."

The twins couldn't climb out through the roof, though they wanted to, so they went out by the tunnel, and helped their mother carry the skins to the beach.

All the people in the village and all the dogs were there before them. The great woman boats were packed, the kyaks of the men waited beside them in a row on the beach, with their noses in the water.

The dogs barked and raced up and down the beach, the babies crowed, and the children shouted for joy. Even the grown people were gay. They talked in loud tones and laughed and made jokes.


At last Kesshoo shouted, "All ready! In you go!" He told each person where to sit.


He put the Angakok in one boat to steer. He put Koko's father in the other.

In Koko's father's boat he placed Koko and his mother and the baby, Koolee and the twins, the pups, all three dogs, and four of the women who lived in the other igloos. So you see it was quite a large boat.

In the Angakok's boat he placed his two wives, and all the rest of the women and children and dogs. The women took up the paddles. One end of the boat was partly in the water when they got in. The men gently pushed it farther out until it floated.

Then the men got into their kyaks at the water's edge, fastened their skin coats over the rims, and paddled out into deep water.

At last, when all the boats, big and little, were afloat, Kesshoo called out, "We are going north. Follow me."

The women obeyed the signal of Koko's father and the Angakok. The paddles dipped together into the water. The great boats moved! They were off!

The children all sat together in the bottom of the boat, but the twins and Koko were big enough to see over the sides. While the babies played with the dogs, they were busy watching the things that passed on the shores. Soon they passed the Big Rock with little auks and puffins flying about it. They could see the red feet of the puffins, and a blue fox sitting on the top of the rock, waiting for a chance to catch a bird.

Then the Big Rock hid the village from sight.


Beyond the Big Rock the country was all new to the twins and Koko. They looked into narrow bays and inlets as the boat moved along, and saw green moss carpeting the sunny slopes in sheltered places.

They could even see bright flowers growing in the warm spots which faced the sun. The sky was blue overhead. The water was blue below.

Beyond the green slopes they could see the bare hillsides crowned with the white ice cap which never melts, and streams of water dashing down the hillsides and pouring themselves into the waters of the bay.

When they had gone a good many miles up the coast, Kesshoo waved his hand and pointed to a strange sight on the shore.

There was a great river of ice! They could see where it came out of a hollow place between two hills. It looked just like a river, only it was frozen solid, and the end of it, where it came into the sea, was broken off like a great wall of ice, and there were cakes of ice floating about in the water.

Suddenly there was a cracking sound. Menie had heard that sound before. It was the same sound that he had heard when he went seal-hole hunting and got carried away on the ice raft. Menie didn't like the sound anymore. It scared him!

Right after the cracking noise Kesshoo's voice shouted, "Row farther out! Follow me!"

He turned his kyak straight out to sea. All the other boats followed.

They had gone only about half a mile when suddenly. there was a loud crick-crick- CRACK as if a piece of the world had broken off, and then there was a splash that could be heard for miles, if there had been any one to hear it.

The end of the glacier, or ice river, had broken off and fallen down into the water! It had made an iceberg!

The splash was so great that in a moment the waves it made reached the boats. The boats rocked up and down on the water and bounced about like corks.


The twins and Koko thought this was great fun, but the Angakok didn't like it a bit. One wave splashed over him, and some of the water went down his neck.

All the grown people knew that if they hadn't rowed quickly away from shore when Kesshoo called they might have been upset and drowned.


Mother Goose  by Frederick Richardson

Ride Away



  WEEK 13  


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

The Lambikin


dropcap image NCE upon a time there was a wee wee Lambikin, who frolicked about on his little tottery legs, and enjoyed himself amazingly. Now one day he set off to visit his Granny, and was jumping with joy to think of all the good things he should get from her, when who should he meet but a Jackal, who looked at the tender young morsel and said: "Lambikin! Lambikin! I'll EAT YOU!"


But Lambikin only gave a little frisk, and said:

"To Granny's house I go,

Where I shall fatter grow,

Then you can eat me so."


The Jackal thought this reasonable, and let Lambikin pass.

By and by he met a Vulture, and the Vulture, looking hungrily at the tender morsel before him, said: "Lambikin! Lambikin! I'll EAT YOU!"


But Lambikin only gave a little frisk, and said:

"To Granny's house I go,

Where I shall fatter grow,

Then you can eat me so."

The Vulture thought this reasonable, and let Lambikin pass.


And by and by he met a Tiger, and then a Wolf, and a Dog, and an Eagle; and all these, when they saw the tender little morsel said: "Lambikin! Lambikin! I'll EAT YOU!"


But to all of them Lambikin replied, with a little frisk:

"To Granny's house I go,

Where I shall fatter grow,

Then you can eat me so."

At last he reached his Granny's house, and said, all in a great hurry: "Granny dear, I've promised to get very fat; so, as people ought to keep their promises, please put me into the corn-bin at once."

So his Granny said he was a good boy, and put him into the corn-bin, and there the greedy little Lambikin stayed for seven days, and ate, and ate, and ate, until he could scarcely waddle, and his Granny said he was fat enough for anything, and must go home.

But cunning little Lambikin said that would never do, for some animal would be sure to eat him on the way back, he was so plump and tender.

"I'll tell you what you must do," said Master Lambikin; "you must make a little drumikin out of the skin of my little brother who died, and then I can sit inside and trundle along nicely, for I'm as tight as a drum myself."

So his Granny made a nice little drumikin out of his brother's skin, with the wool inside, and Lambikin curled himself up snug and warm in the middle, and trundled away gayly.


Soon he met with the Eagle, who called out:

"Drumikin! Drumikin!

Have you seen Lambikin?"


And Mr. Lambikin, curled up in his soft warm nest, replied:

"Fallen into the fire, and so will you.

On little Drumikin! Tum-pa, tum-too!"

"How very annoying!" sighed the Eagle, thinking regretfully of the tender morsel he had let slip.

Meanwhile Lambikin trundled along, laughing to himself, and singing:

"Tum-pa, tum-too;

Tum-pa, tum-too!"


Every animal and bird he met asked him the same question:

"Drumikin! Drumikin!

Have you seen Lambikin?"

And to each of them the little slyboots replied:

"Fallen into the fire, and so will you.

On little Drumikin! Tum-pa, tum-too;

Tum-pa, tum-too; Tum-pa, tum-too!"

Then they all sighed to think of the tender little morsel they had let slip.

At last the Jackal came limping along, for all his sorry looks as sharp as a needle, and he called out:

"Drumikin! Drumikin!

Have you seen Lambikin?"


And Lambikin, curled up in his snug little nest, replied gayly:

"Fallen into the fire, and so will you.

On little Drumikin! Tum-pa——"

But he never got any farther, for the Jackal recognized his voice at once, and cried: "Hullo! you've turned yourself inside out, have you? Just you come out of that!"

Whereupon he tore open Drumikin and gobbled up Lambikin.



The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

The Mist

A hill full, a hole full,

Yet you cannot catch a bowl full.


  WEEK 13  


Among the Meadow People  by Clara Dillingham Pierson

The Butterfly That Went Calling


A S the warm August days came, Mr. Yellow Butterfly wriggled and pushed in his snug little green chrysalis and wished he could get out to see the world. He remembered the days when he was a hairy little Caterpillar, crawling slowly over grass and leaves, and he remembered how beautiful the sky and all the flowers were. Then he thought of the new wings which had been growing from his back, and he tried to move them, just to see how it would feel. He had only six legs since his wings grew, and he missed all the sticky feet which he had to give up when he began to change into a Butterfly.

The more he thought about it the more he squirmed, until suddenly he heard a faint little sound, too faint for larger people to hear, and found a tiny slit in the wall of his chrysalis. It was such a dainty green chrysalis with white wrinkles, that it seemed almost a pity to have it break. Still it had held him for eight days already and that was as long as any of his family ever hung in the chrysalis, so it was quite time for it to be torn open and left empty. Mr. Yellow Butterfly belonged to the second brood that had hatched that year and he wanted to be out while the days were still fine and hot. Now he crawled out of the newly-opened doorway to take his first flight.

Poor Mr. Butterfly! He found his wings so wet and crinkled that they wouldn't work at all, so he had to sit quietly in the sunshine all day drying them. And just as they got big, and smooth, and dry, it grew dark, and Mr. Butterfly had to crawl under a leaf to sleep.

The next morning, bright and early, he flew away to visit the flowers. First, he stopped to see the Daisies by the roadside. They were all dancing in the wind, and their bright faces looked as cheerful as anyone could wish. They were glad to see Mr. Butterfly, and wished him to stay all day with them. He said: "You are very kind, but I really couldn't think of doing it. You must excuse my saying it, but I am surprised to think you will grow here. It is very dusty and dry, and then there is no shade. I am sure I could have chosen a better place."

The Daisies smiled and nodded to each other, saying, "This is the kind of place we were made for, that's all."

Mr. Butterfly shook his head very doubtfully, and then bade them a polite "Good-morning," and flew away to call on the Cardinals.

The Cardinals are a very stately family, as everybody knows. They hold their heads very high, and never make deep bows, even to the wind, but for all that they are a very pleasant family to meet. They gave Mr. Butterfly a dainty lunch of honey, and seemed much pleased when he told them how beautiful the river looked in the sunlight.

"It is a delightful place to grow," said they.

"Ye-es," said Mr. Butterfly, "it is very pretty, still I do not think it can be healthful. I really cannot understand why you flowers choose such strange homes. Now, there are the Daisies, where I just called. They are in a dusty, dry place, where there is no shade at all. I spoke to them about it, and they acted quite uppish."

"But the Daisies always do choose such places," said the Cardinals.

"And your family," said Mr. Butterfly, "have lived so long in wet places that it is a wonder you are alive. Your color is good, but to stand with one's roots in water all the time! It is shocking."

"Cardinals and Butterflies live differently," said the flowers. "Good-morning."

Mr. Butterfly left the river and flew over to the woods. He was very much out of patience. He was so angry that his feelers quivered, and now you know how angry he must have been. He knew that the Violets were a very agreeable family, who never put on airs, so he went at once to them.

He had barely said "Good-morning" to them when he began to explain what had displeased him.

"To think," he said, "what notions some flowers have! Now you have a pleasant home here in the edge of the woods. I have been telling the Daisies and the Cardinals that they should grow in such a place, but they wouldn't listen to me. The Daisies were quite uppish about it, and the Cardinals were very stiff."

"My dear friend," answered a Violet, "they could never live if they moved up into our neighborhood. Every flower has his own place in this world, and is happiest in that place. Everything has its own place and its own work, and every flower that is wise will stay in the place for which it was intended. You were exceedingly kind to want to help the flowers, but suppose they had been telling you what to do. Suppose the Cardinals had told you that flying around was not good for your health, and that to be truly well you ought to grow planted with your legs in the mud and water."

"Oh!" said Mr. Butterfly, "Oh! I never thought of that. Perhaps Butterflies don't know everything."

"No," said the Violet, "they don't know everything, and you haven't been out of your chrysalis very long. But those who are ready to learn can always find someone to tell them. Won't you eat some honey?"

And Mr. Butterfly sipped honey and was happy.


A Book of Nursery Rhymes  by Francis D. Bedford

Little Miss Muffet


  WEEK 13  


Mother Stories  by Maud Lindsay

The Little Traveler

ONCE upon a time there was a little boy who had a long journey to go. He had a very dear mother, and she did not want her little son to leave her; but she knew he must go, so she put her arms around him and said: "Now, don't be afraid, for I shall be thinking of you, and God will take care of you."

Then the little boy kissed her goodbye and ran away, singing a merry song. As long as he could see her he would turn and wave his hand to her; but by and by she was out of sight. Just then he came to a stream of water that ran across his path.

"How can I get over?" thought the little boy; but a white swan swam up to greet him, and said:—

"There is always a way to get over the stream. Follow me! Follow me!"


"There is always a way to get over the stream. Follow me! Follow me!"

So the little boy followed the swan till he came to a row of great stepping stones, and he jumped from one to another, counting them as he went.

When he reached the seventh he was safe across, and he turned to thank the white swan. And when he had thanked her, he called:—

"White swan, white swan, swimming so gay!

Carry a message for me to-day:

My love to my mother, wherever she be;

I know she is always thinking of me."

Then the white swan swam back to carry the message, and the little boy ran on his way.

Oh! there were so many beautiful things to hear,—the birds singing and the bees humming; and so many beautiful things to see,—the flowers and butterflies and green grass! And after a while he came to a wood, where every tree wore a green dress; and through the wood, under the shade of the trees, flowed a babbling creek.

"I wonder how I can get over?" said the little boy; and the wise wind whispered:

"There is always a way to get over the stream. Follow me! Follow me!"

Then he followed the sound of the wise wind's voice, and the wind blew against a tall pine tree, and the pine tree fell across the creek, and lay there, a great round foot-log, where the little boy might step. He made his way over, and thanked the wise wind; and he asked:—

"Wise wind, wise wind, blowing so gay!

Carry a message for me to-day:

My love to my mother, wherever she be;

I know she is always thinking of me."

The wind blew back to carry the message, and the little boy made haste on his journey. His way led through a meadow, where the clover grew and the white sheep and baby lambs were feeding together in the sunshine.

On one side of this meadow flowed a silver shining river, and the child wandered up and down the bank to find some way to cross, for he knew that he must go on.

As he walked there, a man called a carpenter found him, and said to him:—

"There is always a way to get over the stream. Follow me! Follow me!"

Then the little boy followed the carpenter, and the carpenter and his men built a bridge of iron and wood that reached across from bank to bank. And when the bridge was finished, the child ran over in safety; and after he had thanked the carpenter, he said:—

"Carpenter, carpenter, on your way!

Carry a message for me to-day:

My love to my mother, wherever she be;

I know she is always thinking of me."

The carpenter gladly consented; and after he had turned back to carry the message, the little boy followed the path, which led up hill over rocks and steep places, through brambles and briars, until his feet grew weary; and when he came down into the valley again, he saw a river that was very dark and very deep.

There was no white swan or wise wind to help him. No tree in the forest could bridge it over, and the carpenter and his men were far away.

"I must get over. There is a way," said the little boy bravely; and, as he sat down to rest he heard a murmuring sound. Looking down, he spied a tiny boat fastened to a willow tree.

"I am the boat with a helping oar,

To carry you over from shore to shore,"

repeated the boat; and when the little boy had unfastened it, he sprang in, and began to row himself over the dark water.

As he rowed, he saw a tiny bird flying above him. The bird needed no boat or bridge, for its wings were strong; and when the little boy saw it, he cried:—

"Little bird, little bird, flying so gay!

Carry a message for me to-day:

My love to my mother, wherever she be;

I know she is always thinking of me."

The little bird flew swiftly back to carry the message, and the boy rowed on till he reached the opposite shore. After he had thanked the boat with its helping oar, he tied it to a tree as he had found it, and then hastened away, singing his happy song again.

By and by he heard an answer to his song, and he knew that it was the great sea, calling "Come! Come! Come!" And when he reached the shore where the blue waves were dancing up to the yellow sands, he clapped his hands with delight; for there, rocking on the billows, was a beautiful ship with sails as white as a lady's hands.

"I knew there would be a way!" said the little boy, as he sprang on deck and went sailing over the deep blue sea,—sailing, sailing, sailing, day after day, night after night, over the beautiful sea.

At night the stars would look down, twinkling and blinking; and as the little boy watched them, he would say:—

"Little stars, little stars, shining so bright!

Carry a message for me to-night:

My love to my mother, wherever she be;

I know she is always thinking of me."

The little boy went on sailing, sailing, day and night, until he came to a land beyond the sea,—a land so full of delight that the little boy felt that his journey was ended, until one day when a giant storm came.

The wind blew, the thunder crashed, the lightning flashed, the rain came pouring down, and the little boy wanted to go home.

"I will find a way!" he cried at last; and, just as he spoke, the sun came bursting out, the storm clouds rolled away, and there in the sky was a rainbow bridge that seemed to touch both sky and earth.

Then the little boy's heart leaped for joy, and he ran with feet as light as feathers up the shining bow; and when he reached up the highest arch, he looked down on the other side and saw home and his mother at the rainbow's end.

"Mother! Mother!" he called, as he ran down into her arms. "Mother, I've always been thinking of you, and God has taken care of me."


The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

A Candle


Little Nanny Etticoat

In a white petticoat,

And a red nose;

The longer she stands

The shorter she grows.


  WEEK 13  


The Sandman: His Farm Stories  by Willliam J. Hopkins

The Stump Story

dropcap image NCE upon a time there was a farm-house, and it was painted white and had green blinds. And when this farm-house was just built, before it was Uncle Solomon's, the man that lived there wanted some fields where he could plant his corn and his potatoes and his wheat. But the places where the fields would be were all covered with trees.

So in the winter when the snow was on the ground, he went out and cut down the trees with his axe. And the great big trees he carried to the mill, and they were sawed up into boards; that is another story. And the branches and the small trees he chopped up with his axe to burn in the fireplaces. Then the field was all covered with the stumps of the trees and with great rocks.


Then, when it began to get warm, after the winter was over, the man got out the old oxen. There were two pairs of oxen, and they came out of the barn and put down their heads, and the man put the yokes over their necks and the bows up under, and he hooked great chains to the yokes. And he hooked one chain to the drag, and took his whip and said: "Gee up there, Buck; gee up there, Star." And the old oxen began walking slowly along to the field.

Then the man unhooked the drag, and fastened one of the chains to a stump, and hooked the other chain to that chain, and said: "Gee up there." And all the oxen began to pull as hard as they could, and all of a sudden out came the stump with a lot of dirt. And he pulled out all the stumps the same way, and stood them up at the back of the field, where they made a kind of a fence with the roots sticking slanting up into the air.

Then there were the big rocks all over the field. And the man fastened the chains to a rock and the old oxen pulled as hard as they could, and out came the rock and they put it on the drag. And then the man saw where he wanted his fence; and they dug a trench and put flat rocks on the bottom and then the biggest rocks they had on the flat rocks. And they pulled all the rocks out of the ground with the chains, and put them on the drag, and the old oxen pulled them over to the trench, and the man piled them up and built a wall.


Building the wall took a long time—a good many days. And when the oxen had pulled all the rocks out of the ground and dragged them over to the wall, the field was all soft and ready to be ploughed. So the oxen started walking along, out of the field, along the road, dragging the drag. And they went in at the big gate and up past the kitchen door to the barn. Then the man unhooked the chains and took off the yokes and the oxen went into the barn and went to sleep.

And that's all.


The Sandman: His Farm Stories  by Willliam J. Hopkins

The Horsie Story

dropcap image 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 went up past the kitchen door and past the shed and past the barn and past the orchard to the wheat-field. Not very far from that farm-house there was a field where the horses and cows used to go to eat the grass. That was the same field where they went to get water from the river; and in the wall that was between that field and the next, there was a wide gateway. At each side of the gateway there was a post with holes in it, and long bars went across and rested in the holes. And when the bars were across, the horses and cows couldn't go through to the other field. But when the bars were taken out of the holes, then the horses and cows could go through as much as they wanted to and eat the grass in either field.

One day little John was going across the field because it was the short way; there was a horse in the field, eating the grass, and the bars were down. It was a kind, pleasant horse, but he liked to have fun. And when he saw the little boy going across the field, he thought he would have fun, so he ran after him.

Little John saw the horse coming and he was frightened. He was near the wall that was between the two fields, and he ran as hard as he could and got to the wall before the horse caught him. Then he began to climb over the wall into the next field.


And the horse saw what he was doing and ran down the field, beside the wall, and through the gate and back on the other side; and he got there just as the little boy was getting down. And little John heard the horse's feet on the ground—ca-tha-lumpca-tha-lumpca-tha-lump; and he looked around and he saw the horse galloping up by the wall. Then he was frightened and he began to climb back again over the wall as fast as he could.

And the horse saw what he was doing and ran down the field, beside the wall, and through the gate and back on the other side; and he got there just as the little boy was getting down. And little John heard the horse's feet on the ground—ca-tha-lumpca-tha-lumpca-tha-lump; and he looked around and he saw the horse galloping up by the wall. Then he was frightened and he began to climb back again over the wall as fast as he could.

And the horse saw what he was doing and ran down the field, beside the wall, and through the gate and back on the other side; and he got there just as the little boy was getting down. And little John heard the horse's feet on the ground—ca-tha-lumpca-tha-lumpca-tha-lump; and he looked around and saw the horse galloping up by the wall. Then he was frightened and he began to climb back again over the wall as fast as he could.

And the horse saw what he was doing and ran down the field, beside the wall, and through the gate and back on the other side; and he got there just as the little boy was getting down. And little John heard the horse's feet on the ground—ca-tha-lumpca-tha-lumpca-tha-lump; and he looked around and saw the horse galloping up by the wall. Then he was frightened and he began to climb over the wall again. But every time he had climbed over the wall between the fields, he had gone a little nearer to the road, until he was near enough to the wall between the field and the road to reach that. And this time, instead of climbing back into the other field, he climbed over into the road.

And poor little John was very much frightened and ran along the road crying, and got home, and his father saw him and asked him: "What's the matter, John?" And then little John told his father about the horse. And his father laughed and said that the horse was a kind horse but he liked to have fun; and little John better not go there any more. And so the little boy did not go through that field again, but went around by the road.

And that's all.



Ring o' Roses  by L. Leslie Brooke

Little Miss Muffet


Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a tuffet

Eating of curds and whey;



There came a big Spider

And sat down beside her,

And frightened Miss Muffet away.




  WEEK 13  


The Nursery Book of Bible Stories  by Amy Steedman

Samuel, the Little Server

I T was some years after Ruth's son had been born in Bethlehem that another mother was made glad by the precious gift of a little son. This mother's name was Hannah, and her baby was a special joy to her because she had so longed to have a son and had prayed so earnestly to God for this great gift.

There was no doubt about the baby's name. He was called "Samuel," which means "God has heard." For had not God listened to his mother's prayers and given her her heart's desire?

Hannah held her baby close in her arms. He was her very own, and yet he belonged also to God. She had promised, if her prayer was heard, that she would lend him to God, to serve Him in his Holy Temple.

Only for a little while could she keep the baby all to herself. The months passed and then the years, and Samuel grew old enough to run about and take care of himself, needing no longer to be carried in his mother's arms. Then the time came that she should take him to Eli, the priest of God, and leave him to be brought up in the Temple and taught to be a servant of God.

Perhaps at first Samuel cried for his mother, for he was only a very little boy, and must have felt strange and lonely without her; but he very soon grew happy again, and learnt to love the old priest and the new life. It was his mother who suffered most. She missed him so sorely, and mothers do not forget as quickly as children do. But although she had lent him to God, he was still hers too; and every year she went back to see him, and through the long months in between, her fingers were busy making him a little coat of a beautiful blue stuff, sewed with a border of exquisite embroidery, blue and purple and scarlet, that was like a wreath of pomegranates. Just as certain as his birthday came round his mother came and brought with her his little coat, and as he grew bigger every year the coat was bigger too.

Now, as soon as Samuel was old enough he went with Eli, the old priest, into God's house to learn how to help in God's service. Just as we sometimes see now a very little boy helping the priest at God's altar, so Samuel was like a little server as he helped Eli, and he too wore a linen surplice, or ephod, as it was called.

Although he was such a little boy, Samuel already showed that he was straightforward, brave, and obedient, a boy who could be trusted. He did his work faithfully, and when Eli began to grow feeble and his sight became dim, the little server was ready with his clear sight and eager footsteps to be both eyes and feet to the old priest.

But besides growing old and feeble, Eli was also growing more and more unhappy day by day. His two sons were wicked and disobedient, and, what was worse, they were teaching God's people to be wicked too. Eli would not punish them as they deserved, so at last the time came when God took the punishment into His own hands. Only He would warn Eli beforehand, for the old priest was His servant.

So one night God's message came, spoken by God's own voice—spoken not to the great priest, but to the humble little server.

It was evening time. All the work of the day was over, and Eli had gone to rest. The lamp in the temple was burning dimly, sometimes flickering as if it would go out altogether, and leave the holy place in darkness. Samuel, tired with his day's service, was fast asleep, when suddenly he woke up, startled and attentive. Some one had called his name: "Samuel, Samuel."

"Here am I," answered the boy at once. Perhaps the old priest was ill, and wanted him. Hastily Samuel slipped out of bed, and ran to Eli. But the old man was lying there quite calmly, and when Samuel asked why he had called, he answered quietly, "I called not; lie down again."

It was very strange; but perhaps he had been dreaming, so Samuel went back and crept into bed, and very soon was once more fast asleep. Then again the voice came: "Samuel." This time Samuel was sure it was no dream, and he ran to Eli and cried to him, "Here am I, for thou didst call me."

"I called not, my son," said Eli. "Lie down again."

But when it happened a third time, and the little white figure stood by the priest's bed, declaring positively, "Thou didst call me," Eli suddenly realized that perhaps it was God whose voice the boy had heard.

"Go, lie down," he said gently to the bewildered child, "and it shall be if He call thee that thou shalt say, 'Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth.' "

One great lesson Samuel had learnt, and that was to do exactly what he was told, never questioning. So now he went back to bed without another word.

Did Eli mean that it was the Lord who had called him? The great God who was so wonderful, whose Ark was in the Holy Place behind the veil of blue and purple and scarlet, guarded by cherubim? He had only seemed like a far-off name to Samuel. Could it really be God's own voice that had called Samuel? If that was so, then the great unknown God must all the time have known the little servant in His house.

Then again the voice sounded: "Samuel, Samuel."

This time Samuel was listening with all his might, and obediently his answer rang out fearlessly and clearly—

"Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth."


"Samuel answered, Speak; for Thy servant heareth."

God knew that His little servant was fit to be trusted with a message, although it was a terrible one; and He told Samuel that a dreadful punishment was to fall upon the old priest Eli and his wicked sons, and so awful would it be that even the ears of the people who heard about it should tingle.

There was no more sleep for Samuel that night. God's voice rang in his ears; his heart was filled with the thought that Eli would ask him what God had said, and he would have to tell him that dreadful message.

At last the morning light began to steal in, and it was time to open the doors of God's house. The little server in his linen ephod was at his post as usual, but to-day his shining morning face was clouded and troubled, and there must have been a look of awe in his clear eyes.

The call he dreaded came all too soon, and for the first time the sound of Eli's voice was unwelcome in his ears.

"Samuel, my son," called the old man.

Immediately Samuel went and stood at his side. "Here am I," he said.

"What is it that the Lord hath said unto thee? "asked Eli. His eyes were very dim, but he felt sure that the boy had a troubled and fearful look. "I pray thee hide it not from me: God do so to thee, and more also, if thou hide anything from me of all the things that He said unto thee."

The very worst must be told, and Samuel knew he must hide nothing now. He repeated God's message word for word, and Eli bowed his head as he listened. The poor old priest had been a weak father, but he was a faithful servant, and knew that God was just.

"It is the Lord," he said: "let Him do what seemeth Him good."

From that day all things were different to Samuel, and year by year as he grew older he learned more and more to love and serve the God who had spoken to him and trusted him. So also as the years went by the people who worshipped at the Temple began to know that the little child who had been such a faithful server was chosen for a post of great honour—that he had been called, indeed, to be a prophet of the Lord.


The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

Miss Muffet

Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a tuffet,

Eating of curds and whey;

There came a big spider,

And sat down beside her,

And frightened Miss Muffet away.