The Adventures of Reddy Fox  by Thornton Burgess

Farmer Brown's Boy Is Determined

F ARMER BROWN'S BOY had made up his mind. When he shut his teeth with a click and drew his lips together into a thin, straight line, those who knew him were sure that Farmer Brown's boy had made up his mind. That is just what he had done now. He was cleaning his gun, and as he worked he was thinking of his pet chicken and all the other chickens that Reddy Fox had taken.

"I'm going to get that fox if it takes all summer!" exclaimed Farmer Brown's boy. "I ought to have gotten him the other day when I had a shot at him. Next time—well, we'll see, Mr. Fox, what will happen next time."

Now some one heard Farmer Brown's boy, heard everything he said, though Farmer Brown's boy didn't know it. It was Unc' Billy Possum, who was hiding in the very pile of wood on which Farmer Brown's boy was sitting. Unc' Billy pricked up his ears. He didn't like the tone of voice in which Farmer Brown's boy spoke. He thought of Reddy Fox still so stiff and sore and lame that he could hardly walk, all from the shot which Farmer Brown's boy thought had missed.

"There isn't gwine to be any next time. No, Suh, there isn't gwine to be any next time. Ah sho'ly doan love Reddy Fox, but Ah can't nohow let him be shot again. Ah cert'nly can't!" muttered Unc' Billy Possum to himself.

Of course, Farmer Brown's boy didn't hear him. He didn't hear him and he didn't see him when Unc' Billy Possum crept out of the back side of the woodpile and scurried under the hen-house. He was too intent on his plan to catch Reddy Fox.

"I'm just going to hunt over the Green Meadows and through the Green Forest until I get that fox!" said Farmer Brown's boy, and as he said it he looked very fierce, as if he really meant it. "I'm not going to have my chickens stolen any more! No, Sir-e-e! That fox has got a home somewhere on the Green Meadows or in the Green Forest, and I'm going to find it. Then watch out, Mr. Fox!"

Farmer Brown's boy whistled for Bowser the Hound and started for the Green Forest.

Unc' Billy Possum poked his sharp little old face out from under the hen-house and watched them go. Usually Unc' Billy is grinning, but now there wasn't any grin, not the least sign of one. Instead Unc' Billy Possum looked worried.

"There goes that boy with a gun, and nobody knows what'll happen when it goes off. If he can't find Reddy Fox, just as likely as not he'll point it at somebody else just fo' fun. Ah hope he doan meet up with mah ol' woman or any of mah li'l' pickaninnies. Ah'm plumb afraid of a boy with a gun, Ah am. 'Pears like he doan have any sense. Ah reckon Ah better be moving along right smart and tell mah family to stay right close in the ol' hollow tree," muttered Unc' Billy Possum, slipping out from his hiding-place. Then Unc' Billy began to run as fast as he could toward the Green Forest.

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

Old Mother Hubbard

Old Mother Hubbard Went to the cupboard, To give her poor dog a bone; But when she got there The cupboard was bare, And so the poor dog had none. She went to the baker's To buy him some bread; When she came back The dog was dead. She went to the undertaker's To buy him a coffin; When she got back The dog was laughing. She took a clean dish To get him some tripe; When she came back He was smoking a pipe. She went to the alehouse To get him some beer; When she came back The dog sat in a chair. She went to the tavern For white wine and red; When she came back The dog stood on his head. She went to the hatter's To buy him a hat; When she came back He was feeding the cat. She went to the barber's To buy him a wig; When she came back He was dancing a jig. She went to the fruiterer's To buy him some fruit; When she came back He was playing the flute. She went to the tailor's To buy him a coat; When she came back He was riding a goat. She went to the cobbler's To buy him some shoes; When she came back He was reading the news. She went to the sempster's To buy him some linen; When she came back The dog was a-spinning. She went to the hosier's To buy him some hose; When she came back He was dressed in his clothes. The dame made a curtsy, The dog made a bow; The dame said, "Your servant," The dog said, "Bow-wow."

 

The Eskimo Twins  by Lucy Fitch Perkins

The Summer Day

The people ate when they were hungry and slept when they were sleepy. The men caught hundreds of salmon, and the women split them open and dried them on the rocks for winter use. The children played all day long.

The men hunted deer and musk-ox and bears up in the hills and brought them back to camp. They hunted game both by land and by sea. There was so much to eat that everybody grew fatter, and as for the Angakok, he got so very fat that Koko said to Menie, "I don't believe we can ever get the Angakok home in the woman-boat! He's so heavy he'll sink it! I think it would be a good plan to tie a string to him and tow him back like a walrus!"

"Yes," said Menie. "Maybe he would shrink some if we soaked him well. Don't you know how water shrinks the walrus-hide cords that we tie around things when we want them to hold tight together?"

It was lucky for Menie and Koko that nobody heard them say that about the Angakok. It would have been thought very disrespectful.

When the game grew scarce, or they got tired of camping in one spot everything was piled into their boats again, and away they went up the coast until they found another place they liked better. Then they would set up their tents again.

Sometimes they came to other camps and had a good time meeting new people and making new friends.

At last, late in August, the sun slipped down below the edge of the World again. It stayed just long enough to fill the sky with wonderful red and gold sunset clouds, then it came up again. The next night there was a little time between the sunset sky and the lovely colors of the sunrise.

The next night was longer still. Each day grew colder and colder. Still the people lingered in their tents. They did not like to think the pleasant summer was over, and the long night near.

But at last Kesshoo said, "I think it is time to go back to winter quarters. The nights are fast growing longer. The snow may be upon us any day now. I don't know of a better place to settle than the village where we spent last winter. The igloos are all built there ready to use again. What do you say? Shall we go back there?"

"Yes, let us go back," they all said.

For days they traveled along the coast, stopping only for rest and food. The twins and Koko sat in the bottom of the boat with the dogs, and listened to the regular dip of the paddles, to the cries of the sea-birds as they flew away toward the south, and to the chatter of the women. These were almost the only sounds they heard, for the silence of the Great White World was all about them. They talked together in low voices and planned all the things they would do when the long night was really upon them once more.

When at last they came in sight of the Big Rock, they felt as if they had reached home after a very long journey.

Koko stood up in the boat and pointed to it. "See," he cried, "there's the Big Rock where we found the bear!"

"Yes," Monnie said, "and where we slid downhill."

"And I see where I got caught on the ice raft," Menie shouted.

"Sit down," said Koko's mother. "You'll tip the boat and spill us all into the water."

Koko sat down; the boat glided along through the water, nearer and nearer, until at last they came round the Big Rock, and there, just as if they had not been away at all, lay the whole village of five igloos, looking as if it had gone to sleep in the sunshine.

The big boats waited until the men had all paddled to the shore and beached their kyaks, then they were drawn carefully up on to the sand, and every one got out. The beach at once became a very busy place. The men pulled the walruses and seals out of the water and took care of the boats, while the women set up the tents, cut the meat into big pieces for storage, and carried all their belongings to the tents.

Although the village looked just the same, other things looked quite different. Nip and Tup were big dogs by this time. They ran away up the beach with Tooky and the other dogs the moment they were out of the boats. They did not stay with the twins all the time now, as they used to do. The twins were much bigger, too. Koolee looked at them as they helped her carry the tent-skins up from the beach, and said to them, "My goodness, I must make my needles fly! Winter is upon us and your clothes are getting too small for you! You must have new things right away." The twins thought this was a very good idea. They liked new clothes as well as any one in the world.

Koolee set up the tent beside their old igloo, and there they lived while the men of the village went out every day in their kyaks for seal and walrus, or back into the hills after other game to store away for food during the long winter. The women scraped and cured the skins and cut up the meat and packed it away as fast as the men could kill the game and bring it home.

Each day it grew colder, and each night was longer than the last, until one short September day there came a great snow storm! It snowed all day long, and that night the wind blew so hard that Koolee and the twins nearly froze even among the fur covers of their bed, and when morning came they found themselves nearly buried under a great drift.

That very day Koolee put the stones over the roof of the igloo once more, and the twins helped her fill in the chinks with moss and earth, and cover it with a heavy layer of snow, patted down with the snow-shovel, until everything was snug and tight again.

Then they moved in. By the next day all the igloos in the village were in use, and when night came their windows shone with the light of the lamps, just as they had so many months before.

Nip and Tup slept outside with Tooky now, in a snow house which Kesshoo had built for them. Menie and Monnie missed them, but Koolee said, "You are getting so big now you must begin to do something besides play with puppies. Monnie must learn to sew, and Menie must help Father with feeding the dogs and looking after their harnesses, and driving the sledge."

"Maybe Father will teach you both to carve fine things out of ivory this winter! Monnie will soon need her own thimble and needles. They must be made. And she can help me clean the skins and suck out the blubber, and prepare them for being made into clothes!"

"Dear me! What a lot there is to do to keep clothes on our backs and food in our mouths! The Giants are always waiting before the igloo and we must work very hard to keep them outside!"

She did not mean real giants. She meant that Hunger and Want are always waiting to seize the Eskimo who does not work all the time to supply food for himself and his family. She meant that Menie must learn to be a brave strong hunter, afraid of nothing on sea or land, and that Monnie must learn to do a woman's work well, or else the time would come when they would be without food or shelter or clothing, and the fierce cold would soon make an end of them.

It was lucky they got into the warm igloo just when they did, for the winter had come to stay. The bay froze over far out from shore, and the white snow covered the igloos so completely that if it had not been for the windows, and for people moving about out of doors, no one could have told that there was any village there.

The Last Day of all was so short that Menie and Monnie and Koko saw the whole of it from the top of the Big Rock! They had gone up there in the gray twilight that comes before the sunrise to build a snow house to play in. They had been there only a little while when the sky grew all rosy just over the Edge of the World. The color grew stronger and stronger until the little stars were all drowned in it and then up came the great round red face of the sun itself! The children watched it as it peered over the horizon, threw long blue shadows behind them across the snow, and then sank slowly, slowly down again, leaving only the flaming colors in the sky to mark the place where it had been. They waved their hands as it slipped out of sight. "Good-bye, old Sun," they shouted, "and good-bye, Shadow, too! We shall be glad to see you both when you come back again."

Then, because the wind blew very cold and they could see a snow cloud coming toward them from the Great White World where the Giants lived, the children ran together down the snowy slope toward the bright windows of their homes.

 

Mother Goose  by Frederick Richardson

Alphabet Song

 

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

Budulinek

T HERE was once a little boy named Budulinek. He lived with his old Granny in a cottage near a forest.

Granny went out to work every day. In the morning when she went away she always said:

"There, Budulinek, there's your dinner on the table and mind, you mustn't open the door no matter who knocks!"

One morning Granny said:

"Now, Budulinek, today I'm leaving you some soup for your dinner. Eat it when dinner time comes. And remember what I always say: don't open the door no matter who knocks."

She went away and pretty soon Lishka, the sly old mother fox, came and knocked on the door.

"Budulinek!" she called. "You know me! Open the door! Please!"

Budulinek called back:

"No, I mustn't open the door."

But Lishka, the sly old mother fox, kept on knocking.

"Listen, Budulinek," she said: "if you open the door, do you know what I'll do? I'll give you a ride on my tail!"

Now Budulinek thought to himself:

"Oh, that would be fun to ride on the tail of Lishka, the fox!"

So Budulinek forgot all about what Granny said to him every day and opened the door.

Lishka, the sly old thing, came into the room and what do you think she did? Do you think she gave Budulinek a ride on her tail? Well, she didn't. She just went over to the table and gobbled up the bowl of soup that Granny had put there for Budulinek's dinner and then she ran away.

When dinner time came Budulinek hadn't anything to eat.

In the evening when Granny came home, she said:

"Budulinek, did you open the door and let any one in?"

Budulinek was crying because he was so hungry, and he said:

"Yes, I let in Lishka, the old mother fox, and she ate up all my dinner, too!"

Granny said:

"Now, Budulinek, you see what happens when you open the door and let some one in. Another time remember what Granny says and don't open the door."

The next morning Granny cooked some porridge for Budulinek's dinner and said:

"Now, Budulinek, here's some porridge for your dinner. Remember: while I'm gone you must not open the door no matter who knocks."

Granny was no sooner out of sight than Lishka came again and knocked on the door.

"Oh, Budulinek!" she called. "Open the door and let me in!"

But Budulinek said:

"No, I won't open the door!"

"Oh, now, Budulinek, please open the door!" Lishka begged. "You know me! Do you know what I'll do if you open the door? I'll give you a ride on my tail! Truly I will!"

Budulinek thought to himself:

"This time maybe she will give me a ride on her tail."

So he opened the door.

Lishka came into the room, gobbled up Budulinek's porridge, and ran away without giving him any ride at all.

When dinner time came Budulinek hadn't anything to eat.

In the evening when Granny came home she said:

"Budulinek, did you open the door and let any one in?"

Budulinek was crying again because he was so hungry, and he said:

"Yes, I let in Lishka, the old mother fox, and she ate up all my porridge, too!"

"Budulinek, you're a bad boy!" Granny said. "If you open the door again, I'll have to spank you! Do you hear?"

The next morning before she went to work, Granny cooked some peas for Budulinek's dinner.

As soon as Granny was gone he began eating the peas, they were so good.

Presently Lishka, the fox, came and knocked on the door.

"Budulinek!" she called. "Open the door! I want to come in!"

But Budulinek wouldn't open the door. He took his bowl of peas and went to the window and ate them there where Lishka could see him.

"Oh, Budulinek!" Lishka begged. "You know me! Please open the door! This time I promise you I'll give you a ride on my tail! Truly I will!"

She just begged and begged until at last Budulinek opened the door. Then Lishka jumped into the room and do you know what she did? She put her nose right into the bowl of peas and gobbled them all up!

Then she said to Budulinek:

"Now get on my tail and I'll give you a ride!"

So Budulinek climbed on Lishka's tail and Lishka went running around the room faster and faster until Budulinek was dizzy and just had to hold on with all his might.

Then, before Budulinek knew what was happening, Lishka slipped out of the house and ran swiftly off into the forest, home to her hole, with Budulinek still on her tail! She hid Budulinek down in her hole with her own three children and she wouldn't let him out. He had to stay there with the three little foxes and they all teased him and bit him. And then wasn't he sorry he had disobeyed his Granny! And, oh, how he cried!

When Granny came home she found the door open and no little Budulinek anywhere. She looked high and low, but no, there was no little Budulinek. She asked every one she met had they seen her little Budulinek, but nobody had. So poor Granny just cried and cried, she was so lonely and sad.

One day an organ-grinder with a wooden leg began playing in front of Granny's cottage. The music made her think of Budulinek.

"Organ-grinder," Granny said, "here's a penny for you. But, please, don't play any more. Your music makes me cry."

"Why does it make you cry?" the organ-grinder asked.

"Because it reminds me of Budulinek," Granny said, and she told the organ-grinder all about Budulinek and how somebody had stolen him away.

The organ-grinder said:

"Poor Granny! I tell you what I'll do: as I go around and play my organ I'll keep my eyes open for Budulinek. If I find him I'll bring him back to you."

"Will you?" Granny cried. "If you bring me back my little Budulinek I'll give you a measure of rye and a measure of millet and a measure of poppy seed and a measure of everything in the house!"

So the organ-grinder went off and everywhere he played his organ he looked for Budulinek. But he couldn't find him.

At last one day while he was walking through the forest he thought he heard a little boy crying. He looked around everywhere until he found a fox's hole.

"Oho!" he said to himself. "I believe that wicked old Lishka must have stolen Budulinek! She's probably keeping him here with her own three children! I'll soon find out."

So he put down his organ and began to play. And as he played he sang softly:

"One old fox And two, three, four, And Budulinek He makes one more!"

Old Lishka heard the music playing and she said to her oldest child:

"Here, son, give the old man a penny and tell him to go away because my head aches."

So the oldest little fox climbed out of the hole and gave the organ-grinder a penny and said:

"My mother says, please will you go away because her head aches."

As the organ-grinder reached over to take the penny, he caught the oldest little fox and stuffed him into a sack. Then he went on playing and singing:

"One old fox And two and three And Budulinek Makes four for me!"

Presently Lishka sent out her second child with a penny and the organ-grinder caught the second little fox in the same way and stuffed it also into the sack. Then he went on grinding his organ and softly singing:

"One old fox And another for me, And Budulinek He makes the three!"

"I wonder why that old man still plays his organ," Lishka said and sent out her third child with a penny.

So the organ-grinder caught the third little fox and stuffed it also into the sack. Then he kept on playing and singing softly:

"One old fox I'll soon get you!— And Budulinek He makes just two."

At last Lishka herself came out. So he caught her, too, and stuffed her in with her children. Then he sang:

"Four naughty foxes Caught alive! And Budulinek He makes the five!"

The organ-grinder went to the hole and called down:

"Budulinek! Budulinek! Come out!"

As there were no foxes left to hold him back, Budulinek was able to crawl out.

When he saw the organ-grinder he cried and said:

"Oh, please, Mr. Organ-Grinder, I want to go home to my Granny!"

"I'll take you home to your Granny," the organ-grinder said, "but first I must punish these naughty foxes."

The organ-grinder cut a strong switch and gave the four foxes in the sack a terrible beating until they begged him to stop and promised that they would never again do anything to Budulinek.

Then the organ-grinder let them go and he took Budulinek home to Granny.

Granny was delighted to see her little Budulinek and she gave the organ-grinder a measure of rye and a measure of millet and a measure of poppy seed and a measure of everything else in the house.

And Budulinek never again opened the door!

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

The Cock and the Hen

"Cock, cock, cock, cock, I've laid an egg, Am I to gang ba—are-foot?" "Hen, hen, hen, hen, I've been up and down To every shop in town, And cannot find a shoe To fit your foot, If I'd crow my hea—art out."

 

Among the Meadow People  by Clara Dillingham Pierson

The Selfish Tent-Caterpillar

O NE could hardly call the Tent-Caterpillars meadow people, for they did not often leave their trees to crawl upon the ground. Yet the Apple-Tree Tent-Caterpillars would not allow anybody to call them forest people. "We live on apple and wild cherry trees," they said, "and you will almost always find us in the orchards or on the roadside trees. There are Forest Tent-Caterpillars, but please don't get us mixed with them. We belong to another branch of the family, the Apple-Tree branch."

The Tree Frog said that he remembered perfectly well when the eggs were laid on the wild cherry tree on the edge of the meadow. "It was early last summer," he said, "and the Moth who laid them was a very agreeable reddish-brown person, about as large as a common Yellow Butterfly. I remember that she had two light yellow lines on each forewing. Another Moth came with her, but did not stay. He was smaller than she, and had the same markings. After he had gone, she asked me if we were ever visited by the Yellow-Billed Cuckoos."

"Why did she ask that?" said the Garter Snake.

"Don't you know?" exclaimed the Tree Frog. And then he whispered something to the Garter Snake.

The Garter Snake wriggled with surprise and cried, "Really?"

All through the fall and winter the many, many eggs which the reddish-brown Moth had laid were kept snug and warm on the twig where she had put them. They were placed in rows around the twig, and then well covered to hold them together and keep them warm. The winter winds had blown the twig to and fro, the cold rain had frozen over them, the soft snowflakes had drifted down from the clouds and covered them, only to melt and trickle away again in shining drops. One morning the whole wild cherry tree was covered with beautiful long, glistening crystals of hoar-frost; and still the ring of eggs stayed in its place around the twig, and the life in them slept until spring sunbeams should shine down and quicken it.

But when the spring sunbeams did come! Even before the leaf-buds were open, tiny Larvæ, or Caterpillar babies, came crawling from the ring of eggs and began feeding upon the buds. They took very, very small bites, and that looked as though they were polite children. Still, you know, their mouths were so small that they could not take big ones, and it may not have been politeness after all which made them eat daintily.

When all the Tent-Caterpillars were hatched, and they had eaten every leaf-bud near the egg-ring, they began to crawl down the tree toward the trunk. Once they stopped by a good-sized crotch in the branches. "Let's build here," said the leader; "this place is all right."

Then some of the Tent-Caterpillars said, "Let's!" and some of them said, "Don't let's!" One young fellow said, "Aw, come on! There's a bigger crotch farther down." Of course he should have said, "I think you will like a larger crotch better," but he was young, and, you know, these Larvæ had no father or mother to help them speak in the right way. They were orphans, and it is wonderful how they ever learned to talk at all.

After this, some of the Tent-Caterpillars went on to the larger crotch and some stayed behind. More went than stayed, and when they saw this, those by the smaller crotch gave up and joined their brothers and sisters, as they should have done. It was right to do that which pleased most of them.

It took a great deal of work to make the tent. All helped, spinning hundreds and thousands of white silken threads, laying them side by side, criss-crossing them, fastening the ends to branches and twigs, not forgetting to leave places through which one could crawl in and out. They never worked all day at this, because unless they stopped to eat they would soon have been weak and unable to spin. There were nearly always a few Caterpillars in the tent, but only in the early morning or late afternoon or during the night were they all at home. The rest of the time they were scattered around the tree feeding. Of course there were some cold days when they stayed in. When the weather was chilly they moved slowly and cared very little for food.

There was one young Tent-Caterpillar who happened to be the first hatched, and who seemed to think that because he was a minute older than any of the other children he had the right to his own way. Sometimes he got it, because the others didn't want to have any trouble. Sometimes he didn't get it, and then he was very sulky and disagreeable, even refusing to answer when he was spoken to.

One cold day, when all the Caterpillars stayed in the tent, this oldest brother wanted the warmest place, that in the very middle. It should have belonged to the younger brothers and sisters, for they were not so strong, but he pushed and wriggled his hairy black and brown and yellow body into the very place he wanted, and then scolded everybody around because he had to push to get there. It happened as it always does when a Caterpillar begins to say mean things, and he went on until he was saying some which were really untrue. Nobody answered back, so he scolded and fussed and was exceedingly disagreeable.

All day long he thought how wretched he was, and how badly they treated him, and how he guessed they'd be sorry enough if he went away. The next morning he went. As long as the warm sunshine lasted he did very well. When it began to grow cool, his brothers and sisters crawled past him on their way to the tent. "Come on!" they cried. "It's time to go home."

"Uh-uh!" said the eldest brother (and that meant "No"), "I'm not going."

"Why not?" they asked.

"Oh, because," said he.

When the rest were all together in the tent they talked about him. "Do you suppose he's angry?" said one.

"What should he be angry about?" said another.

"I just believe he is," said a third. "Did you notice the way his hairs bristled?"

"Don't you think we ought to go to get him?" asked two or three of the youngest Caterpillars.

"No," said the older ones. "We haven't done anything. Let him get over it."

So the oldest brother, who had thought that every other Caterpillar in the tent would crawl right out and beg and coax him to come back, waited and waited and waited, but nobody came. The tent was there and the door was open. All he had to do was to crawl in and be at home. He waited so long that at last he had to leave the tree and spin his cocoon without ever having gone back to his brothers and sisters in the tent. He spun his cocoon and mixed the silk with a yellowish-white, then he lay down in it to sleep twenty-one days and grow his wings. The last thought he had before going to sleep was an unhappy and selfish one. Probably he awakened an unhappy and selfish Moth.

His brothers and sisters were sad whenever they thought of him. "But," they said, "what could we do? It wasn't fair for him to have the best of everything, and we never answered when he said mean things. He might have come back at any time and we would have been kind to him."

And they were right. What could they have done? It was very sad, but when a Caterpillar is so selfish and sulky that he cannot live happily with other people, it is much better that he should live quite alone.

 

A Book of Nursery Rhymes  by Francis D. Bedford

Bah! Bah! Black Sheep

 

More Mother Stories  by Maud Lindsay

The Turkey's Nest

One day the old turkey hen went out to find a place to make her nest. She went a long way, and she took a long time to find it, but, when at last she had suited herself, she said,—

"They may go to the East and go to the West, But they'll never be able to find my nest";

and she felt so proud of herself that she walked all the way home with her head in the air.

When she got home to the barnyard her friends were talking about her. There was the Gray Goose and the White Duck and the Brown Hen, and when they saw her coming, they called, "Where in the world did you make your nest?"

"Guess," said the turkey hen, and then they were puzzled.

"Well," said the Gray Goose at last, "when I go to make my nest I always try to get near the water, for there's nothing so good for my health—so I'll guess the goose pond."

"Right," cried the Duck, "I'll quite agree. The pond is just the place for a family."

"The idea," said the Brown Hen, chuckling to herself, "why what could be healthier than hay, or straw! I'll guess the hay-stack."

But though they did their very best They never could guess where she'd made her nest.

The turkey hen grew prouder and prouder, and she walked about the barn-yard like a queen. One day the cook saw her, and said to the children, "Certain and sure that old turkey hen has made herself a nest somewhere."

"Then I'll find it," said Cousin Pen, who had come to pay a visit on the farm.

"Then I'll  find it," cried Brother Fred. "She can't hide a nest from me."

"Then I'll find it," said little Ben. And they all started out to look for it.

Cousin Pen went down in the hollow and looked in the grasses, and leaves, and looked in the stumps and hollow trees.

But though she did her very best She couldn't find the turkey's nest.

Brother Fred went up on the hill to the gin-house, and down in the cotton field, and round by the goose pond where he found the Gray Goose and the White Duck taking a swim.

But though he did his very best He couldn't find the turkey's nest.

Little Ben began at home to look. He looked under the house and behind the wood-pile, and in the barn, and out by the haystack; and while he was tipping about out there he frightened the Brown Hen from her nest, and she quarreled half the day about it.

But though he did his very best, He couldn't find the turkey's nest.

Then Mama said she must go and look, so she put on her bonnet and went to the wood-lot, and sat down under a tree just as quiet as she could be. By and by the turkey hen came along. She saw Mama and Mama saw her,  but neither of them said a word. The turkey hen walked round and round in the wood-lot just as if she wasn't thinking about anything, but at last she went through the big gate into the road.

Then Mama got up and followed her, just as still as a mouse, and the turkey hen

Went up the hill and down the hill, And through the fields and by the mill, And down across the meadow brook, By many a turn and many a crook. She went to the East and she went to the West, But she never went near her hidden nest.

Went up the hill and down the hill, and through the fields and by the mill.

"I'll give up," said Mama, and the old turkey hen was prouder than ever.

Then Papa said that he must try; and early one morning before the children were awake he got up and started out to find the turkey's nest.

"He'll find it if anybody can," said Brother Fred, when he was told, and the children could scarcely wait for him to come home again.

He stayed so long that they went down the lane to meet him, and when he saw them coming he called out—

"I declare I've done my very best, But I can't find that turkey's nest."

And the turkey hen grew prouder and prouder. She stayed at her nest, wherever it was, nearly all the time then, and only came to the barnyard when she wanted something to eat.

The Gray Goose and the White Duck and the Brown Hen said they wouldn't be surprised at anything she did.

But they were surprised, and so were the children, when one morning she walked into the yard with twelve little turkeys, as fine as you please, walking behind her.

"Just look here," she said, "at my children. I hatched them all out in my nest down in the corner of the old rail fence."

And she added, as they gathered around to see:—

"I tell you what, I did my best, When I found that place to make my nest!"

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

Blue Bell Boy

I had a little boy, And called him Blue Bell; Gave him a little work,— He did it very well. I bade him go upstairs To bring me a gold pin; In coal scuttle fell he, Up to his little chin. He went to the garden To pick a little sage; He tumbled on his nose, And fell into a rage. He went to the cellar To draw a little beer; And quickly did return To say there was none there.

 

The Sandman: More Farm Stories  by Willliam J. Hopkins

The Pigeon 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.

One day, after little Charles had gone away from that farm, little John found his gun where he had put it away, and he remembered that Uncle John had given it to both of them. He thought he was old enough to try to use the gun, and he wanted to shoot with it. So the next morning, after he had finished his breakfast, he got the gun and some shot and some powder, and he started out the kitchen door and down the little track and out the wide gate into the road. Then he went along the road a long way, past the lane that led to the woods where they had caught the woodchuck, and he turned off at another place and went to some woods that were near the river. He went there because he thought that would be a good place to find some pigeons.

In those days, long ago, there were many wild pigeons. They used to come, sometimes, near that farm, and when they flew along in the air, there were so many of them flying together that they made it seem dark, as though it was a thick cloud. And every day, while they stayed there, they flew off in the morning to feed, and flew back at night to the same place, to sleep. And sometimes there were so many sitting on a branch of a tree that they were too heavy and made the branch break. Men used to shoot those pigeons, and it was easy for the men to shoot a good many of them, because they crowded so. That is why we don't see wild pigeons now. They were very beautiful, and most of them had pretty shiny colours on their heads and necks, reddish and blue and green, almost like a peacock.

Little John thought he would like to shoot one of these pigeons, and he went the way to those woods near the river, because the pigeons liked to go there. When he got into the woods, he walked very carefully and looked about among the trees. And pretty soon he came to a kind of a little open place in the woods, with the river only a little way off. It was a very pleasant place, and little John liked it and used to go there and lie on the ground near the river and watch the water, and sometimes he fished there. When he got there this time, he stopped and looked up in the trees, and there, right at the edge of the open place, sat a pigeon on the branch of a tree.

When little John saw the pigeon, he was excited and his hand shook a good deal while he loaded the gun, and he watched the pigeon all the time because he was afraid that the pigeon would fly away. But the pigeon stayed sitting on the branch, and it watched little John load the gun and wondered what he was going to do with it. Pigeons are stupid, not like squirrels.

He loaded the gun.

At last little John got the gun loaded, and he found a place where he could rest it on a big branch of a tree. And he rested it on the branch and looked along the gun and aimed a long time, and when he thought it was aimed just right, he pulled the trigger and the gun went off with a big noise and smoke. And the end that was against little John's shoulder punched into him and hurt. But he didn't notice it. And when the wind blew the smoke away, there was the pigeon lying on the ground under the tree.

So little John was so excited when he saw that he had hit the pigeon, he dropped his gun and ran over to the tree and picked the pigeon up. It was very beautiful, and its neck and head and wings were all shiny colours, and sometimes they looked reddish and sometimes blue and sometimes green, and when little John looked at it a different way, the colours changed. So he stood there a long time, holding the pigeon and turning it around, to see the blue colour change to green and thinking how pretty it was. And he thought it was so pretty that he wanted to show it to Uncle John and Aunt Deborah right away. So he ran through the woods and into the road and along the road and in at the wide gate and up to the kitchen door, and in.

In the kitchen were Aunt Deborah and Aunt Phyllis, and they thought the pigeon was beautiful. And little John wanted to show it to Uncle John. So he ran out to the barn, and there were Uncle John and Uncle Solomon. And he showed them the pigeon and they thought it was beautiful, and Uncle Solomon said it wouldn't make a big enough pie for the whole family, and he ought to have shot more. Then Uncle Solomon looked at little John and he said, "John, where's your gun?"

When little John heard Uncle Solomon ask that, he tried to think what he had done with the gun, and he couldn't remember, and he was ashamed and didn't say anything. So Uncle Solomon laughed and told him to go back and see if he couldn't find it. So little John walked all the way back to the tree where he stood with the gun. And there was the gun lying on the ground, and he picked it up. Then, when he was rested, he walked back to the farm-house. But he decided that he didn't care much about shooting things, and he wouldn't fire off the gun any more.

 

Ring o' Roses  by L. Leslie Brooke

Oranges and Lemons

Gay go up, and gay go down To ring the bells of London Town.

Bull's eyes and targets, Say the bells of St. Marg'ret's. Brickbats and tiles, Say the bells of St. Giles'. Pancakes and fritters, Say the bells of St. Peter's. Two sticks and an apple, Say the bells at Whitechapel.

Halfpence and farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin's.

Oranges and Lemons, Say the bells of St. Clement's.

Old Father Baldpate, Say the slow bells at Aldgate. Pokers and tongs, Say the bells of St. John's. Kettles and pans, Say the bells of St. Ann's. You owe me ten shillings, Say the bells at St. Helen's. When I grow rich, Say the bells at Shoreditch. When will you pay me? Say the bells at Old Bailey. Pray when will that be? Say the bells of Stepney.

I am sure I don't know, Says the great bell of Bow.

Here comes a candle to light you to bed, And here comes a chopper to chop off your head.

 

The Nursery Book of Bible Stories  by Amy Steedman

David, the Shepherd Boy

T HE years had gone by since Saul had been made king and the people had shouted so triumphantly, "God save the King!" in their joy at having an earthly ruler set over them. The old priest, Samuel, had grown more and more sorrowful as he watched over the people and saw how often both they and their king did what was wrong in God's sight.

It was true that Saul was mighty in battle and ruled well; but Samuel soon saw that the king was growing proud and self-confident. He boasted himself of his strength, and of the great standing army which he had made, and he forgot that he owed everything to God's help. More and more disobedient and self-willed he became, until at last God's message came to Samuel, telling him that Saul was no longer fit to rule, and another king must be chosen.

Now at that time there lived, in the little hill town of Bethlehem, a man called Jesse, who had eight sons, seven of them tall, strong, grown-up men, and the youngest still a boy, who looked after the sheep in the fields. The people of the little hill town did not trouble themselves much about what was going on in the outside world. There, on the pleasant slopes of the Judean hills, they fed their flocks, and lived their busy, peaceful lives, far away from the noise of strife and battle.

But one day a stir of excitement and fear spread through the town. The people crowded to the city gates and gazed with anxious eyes across the cornfields and pleasant vineyards to where the white road wound like a ribbon up to the town. It seemed strange that they should be so anxious and terror-stricken. No armed enemy band was marching along that mountain road, only an old man could be seen climbing slowly upwards with weary steps, driving a heifer before him, and carrying a horn of oil in his hand.

But from mouth to mouth passed the word that Samuel, the prophet of the Lord, was on his way to visit the city. The people knew that he was God's messenger, and they feared the message he might bring. Was it a message of peace or of punishment? It was surely one or other, and in their hearts they were afraid that the visit boded them no good.

"Comest thou peaceably?" they asked anxiously, as the old man reached the gates.

To their great relief the old man looked kindly upon them, and answered quietly, "Peaceably: I am come to sacrifice unto the Lord: sanctify yourselves, and come with me to the sacrifice."

It was to Jesse's house that Samuel made his way to offer the sacrifice; but he went there with another purpose as well. Among those sons of Jesse was one whom God had chosen to be king over Israel, and He had bidden the old priest go and pour the anointing oil upon his head. It was a secret errand, for no word of it must reach Saul's ear, or his vengeance would be swift-winged and sure.

So the feast for the sacrifice was prepared in Jesse's house, and Samuel bade the father call all his sons to the service. They must pass before him one by one, he said.

The first of the sons to stand before Samuel was Eliab, and he was so handsome and strong, and bore himself with such a kingly air, that the old priest felt sure this must be the one God had chosen.

"Surely the Lord's anointed is before Him," murmured Samuel to himself.

But he was mistaken. This was not the king. God does not take count of outside beauty, for He looks at the heart.

So the young man passed on, and one by one his tall, handsome brothers followed; but there was no sign from God to show which was the one He had chosen.

Samuel was perplexed and troubled. He could not understand what it meant, and he turned to Jesse and asked, "Are here all thy children?"

These were all his grown-up sons that counted, was the father's answer. There was certainly one more, but he was scarcely more than a child, and was out on the hillside tending the sheep.

"There remaineth yet the youngest, and, behold, he keepeth the sheep."

"Send and fetch him," ordered Samuel at once: "for we will not sit down till he come hither."

So messengers were sent quickly to fetch the boy David, and at last he came hurrying in. He was only a little lad, holding his shepherd's crook in his sun-browned hand as he gazed with wondering eyes at the old priest who had summoned him. His fair face was still flushed with running, his golden hair had been tossed and tangled in the wind, and he seemed to bring in with him the very breath of the hills.

"Arise, anoint him: for this is he," sounded the voice of God in Samuel's heart, and rising slowly, the old man poured the anointing oil upon the sunny head of the little shepherd boy.

David Anointed King

Those who looked on were puzzled. Perhaps the elder brothers were envious, and wondered why this mere child should be singled out for such a special favour. No one knew exactly what it meant, but no one thought of questioning God's messenger.

Nothing further happened just then. Samuel returned as he had come, by the winding white road, and before very long his visit was forgotten by the village folk as they settled to their work again.

Only David thought more and more of this strange happening. Alone in the fields all day he pondered over all that had been done, and grew more and more certain that it had been a call from God to do some special piece of work for Him. The wonder of it filled his mind, and he felt God's Spirit within him.

But the thought of something great in the future did not make him neglect the daily common tasks he still had to do. He was as watchful as ever in guarding his sheep from the fierce prowling beasts that lurked around, as quick and brave in defending them. Even in his leisure time he was busy too, and there was not one of the sunny hours of daylight that he wasted.

He loved music, and he taught himself to play upon the harp, practising so carefully and patiently that his fingers grew most wonderfully skilful, and the songs he made were so beautiful that they became famous in all the country round about. He learned, too, to use his shepherd's sling so that he could aim at a mark and hit it every time, and there was no boy in all Bethlehem who was as straight a shot as he was. Whatever was worth doing was, for him, worth doing well. It was no great thing, perhaps, to make music or hit straight; but it was a great thing to do what lay nearest to his hand with all his might. Perhaps some day God might make use of his singing, or might want the services of one who had a quick eye and a sure aim. Who could tell?

At any rate David made up his mind that he would learn well and thoroughly all he could, so that he would be ready whenever God's call should come.

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

Why May I Not Love Johnny?

Johnny shall have a new bonnet, And Johnny shall go to the fair, And Johnny shall have a blue ribbon To tie up his bonny brown hair. And why may not I love Johnny? And why may not Johnny love me? And why may not I love Johnny As well as another body? And here's a leg for a stocking, And here's a foot for a shoe, And he has a kiss for his daddy, And two for his mammy, I trow. And why may not I love Johnny? And why may not Johnny love me? And why may not I love Johnny As well as another body?