The Adventures of Reddy Fox  by Thornton Burgess

Farmer Brown's Boy Works for Nothing

T HE GRASS around the door-step of the house where Reddy Fox had always lived was all wet with dew when Farmer Brown's boy laid his gun down, took off his coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and picked up his spade. It was cool and beautiful there on the edge of the Green Meadows. Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun had just begun his long climb up in the blue, blue sky. Mr. Redwing was singing for joy over in the bulrushes on the edge of the Smiling Pool. Yes, it was very beautiful, very beautiful indeed. It didn't seem as if harm could come to any one on such a beautiful morning.

But there was Farmer Brown's boy. He had crawled on his hands and knees without making a sound to get near enough to the home of Reddy Fox to shoot if Reddy was outside. But there was no sign of Reddy, so Farmer Brown's boy had hopped up, and now he was whistling as he began to dig. His freckled face looked good-natured. It didn't seem as if he could mean harm to any one. But there lay the gun, and he was working as if he meant to get to the very bottom of Reddy Fox's home!

Deeper and deeper grew the hole, and bigger and bigger grew the pile of sand which he threw out. He didn't know that any one was watching him, except Bowser the Hound. He didn't see Johnny Chuck peeping from behind a tall bunch of meadow grass, nor Peter Rabbit peeping from behind a tree on the edge of the Green Forest, nor Bobby Coon looking from a safe hiding-place in the top of that same tree. He didn't see Jimmy Skunk nor Unc' Billy Possum nor Happy Jack Squirrel nor Digger the Badger. He didn't see one of them, but they saw him. They saw every shovelful of sand that he threw, and their hearts went pit-a-pat as they watched, for each one felt sure that something dreadful was going to happen to Reddy Fox.

Only Ol' Mistah Buzzard knew better. From way up high in the blue, blue sky he could look down and see many things. He could see all the little meadow and forest people who were watching Farmer Brown's boy. The harder Farmer Brown's boy worked, the more Ol' Mistah Buzzard chuckled to himself. What was he laughing at? Why, peeping out from behind an old fence corner, he could see the sharp face of old Granny Fox, and she was grinning. So Ol' Mistah Buzzard knew Reddy Fox was safe.

But the other little people of the Green Forest and the Green Meadows didn't know that old Granny Fox and Reddy Fox had moved, and their faces grew longer and longer as they watched Farmer Brown's boy go deeper and deeper into the ground.

"Reddy Fox has worried me almost to death and would eat me if he could catch me, but somehow things wouldn't be quite the same without him around. Oh dear, I don't want him killed," moaned Peter Rabbit.

"Perhaps he isn't home," said Jimmy Skunk.

"Of course he's home; he's so stiff and sore he can hardly walk at all and has to stay home," replied Johnny Chuck. "Hello, what's the matter now?"

Everybody looked. Farmer Brown's boy had climbed out of the hole. He looked tired and cross. He rested for a few minutes, and as he rested, he scowled. Then he began to shovel the sand back into the hole. He had reached the bottom and found no one there.

"Hurrah!" shouted Peter Rabbit and struck his heels together as he jumped up in the air.

And the others were just as glad as Peter Rabbit. Johnny Chuck was especially glad, for, you see, Farmer Brown's boy had once found Johnny's snug home, and Johnny had had to move as suddenly as did Granny and Reddy Fox. Johnny knew just how Reddy must feel, for he had had many narrow escapes in his short life. You can read all about them in the next book, The Adventures of Johnny Chuck.

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

Boy and the Sparrow

A little cock-sparrow sat on a green tree, And he chirruped, he chirruped, so merry was he; A naughty boy came with his wee bow and arrow, Determined to shoot this little cock-sparrow. "This little cock-sparrow shall make me a stew, And his giblets shall make me a little pie, too." "Oh, no," says the sparrow "I won't make a stew." So he flapped his wings and away he flew.

 

The Japanese Twins  by Lucy Fitch Perkins

Taro's Birthday

I WISH there was room in this book to tell you about all the good times that Taro and Take have, but they have so many holidays and such good times on every one of them that it would take two books to tell about it all.

They have cherry festivals and wistaria festivals and chrysanthemum festivals when everybody goes to picnics and spends the whole day with the flowers.

On the day of the Lotus Festival they go very early in the morning, before the sun is up, to a pond where the lotus flowers bloom. They go with their teacher and all the children.

When they get to the pond, the teacher says, "Listen!" Every one is still as a mouse. Just as the sun comes up, the lotus flowers open. Pop, pop, pop, they go, like fairy guns! The children love to hear them pop. "The flowers salute the sun," they say.

One of the best days of all is New Year's Day, when all the boys and their fathers and grandfathers fly kites. And such wonderful kites! The air is full of dragons and boxes and all sorts of queer shapes. Sometimes the dragons have a battle in the air!

But one day I must  tell you about, anyway, and that is Taro's birthday!

It isn't only Taro's birthday, you know. All the boys celebrate together. The girls—even if they are your very own twins—don't have a thing to do with it. And it lasts five days! On the first morning Taro woke very early. He was just as excited as Take was on the day of the Festival of Dolls. But Take didn't stay in bed on Taro's birthday. She flew out early, for she wanted to see all the fun, even if she wasn't in it.

First she went to the Kura with Taro and their Father to get out the flags. The boys' birthday is called the Feast of Flags.

They took Bot'Chan with them to the Kura. Take carried him on her back.

"It's Bot'Chan's birthday, too," she said, "so he must go."

In the Kura was a long bamboo pole. The Twins' Father took the pole and set it up in the street before their house. Then he brought out two great paper fish. They were almost larger than Taro. They had great round mouths and round eyes. A string was fastened to their mouths.

"There's one fish for Taro and one for Bot'Chan," said the Father. "We have two boys in our house."

He tied the fish to the pole. The wind filled the great round mouths and soon away up in the air the two fish were bobbing and blowing about just as if they were alive!

There was a bamboo pole with one or two—and sometimes three or four—fish on it before every house in the street!

"My! how many boys there are in the world!" Take said; "more than I can count!"

The street was as gay as a great flower-garden. There were not only fish flags; there was the flag of Japan, with a great round red disk on it. And there was the flag of the navy, which was a great round red sun like the other, only with red rays around it, and there were banners of all colors waving in the breeze.

"Why are the fish flags all made just like the carp in the pond at the Temple?" asked Take.

"Because the carp is such a plucky fish," the Father answered. "He isn't a lazy fish that only wants to swim downstream, the easy way. He swims up the rivers and jumps up the falls. That's the way we want our Japanese boys to be. Their lives must be brave and strong, like the carp."

"And clean and bright like the sword, too?" Taro said.

"Yes," said his Father. "I'm glad you remember about the sword."

When the fish flags were bobbing about in the air, the Father and children went back into the house.

There were the steps in the side of the room again, just where they were when Take had her birthday. And Taro had his dolls, too. They were not like Take's. They were soldier dolls, enough for a whole army. Taro set them up in rows, as if they were marching! There were General dolls, and officers on horseback, and bands. There were even two nurses, following after the procession. There were toy guns, and ever and ever so many flags all in a row.

Taro was so excited he could hardly eat any breakfast! As soon as he had finished, he sprang up from his cushion. He almost upset his table, he was in such a hurry. He put on a play uniform like a soldier. And he had a wooden sword!

"There's going to be a war!" he said to Take.

"Where?" asked Take; "can I see it?"

"It's going to be in the street. I'm the General," said Taro.

"Oh, how I wish I could be a General," cried Take.

But Taro never even heard her. He was already on his way to join his regiment.

In a few minutes Take heard the "rap-a-tap, tap! rap-a-tap, tap!"  of a drum. "They're coming! They're coming!" she called to her Mother and Father. The Mother rolled Bot'Chan on to her back. Take took her Father's hand. They all ran to the gate to see the procession. The servants came out, too, and last of all Grannie. They gave Grannie the best place to see. Soon around the corner came the procession.

First marched a color-bearer with the big Japanese flag. Then came Taro. He looked very proud and straight, walking all alone at the head of the procession. He was the General because he had a sword!

All the boys carried flags. They kept step like little soldiers.

"Oh, doesn't Taro look beautiful?" said Take. She climbed up on the gate-post. She waved a little flag with all her might, but Taro never looked round. He just marched straight along.

Just then "rub-a-dub-dub"  came the sound of another drum. Around the next corner came another army of little boys.

They carried flags, too. They marched straight toward Taro's army.

"Now the war is coming! Now the war is coming!" shouted Take.

All at once Taro's soldiers began to run. The other soldiers ran, too. They ran straight toward each other and tried to get each others' flags.

Take saw Taro wave his sword. "On, soldiers, on!" he shouted.

Then there was a great mix-up of boys and flags. It seemed like a bundle of waving arms and legs and banners. Every boy was shouting at the top of his voice.

Take climbed right on top of the gate-post, she was so excited. She stood up on it and waved her arms!

"Look at that child," cried the Mother. "She'll fall."

Take was dancing for joy.

"There they come! There they come!" she cried.

Her Father reached up and held her still. "Be quiet,  grasshopper," he said.

"But Taro is coming! They beat, they beat!" cried Take.

Taro and his army were coming up the street on the run. Nearly every little boy had two flags! The other army was running away as fast as it could go. They had only two banners left.

"Beat the drum!" shouted Taro. The drummer boy began, "rat-a-tat-tat,"  and the whole victorious army marched down the street and right into Taro's garden!

As he passed his Father and Mother and Grannie and Bot'Chan, Taro saluted. His Father saluted Taro, and every one of the family—Grannie and all—cried "Banzai! Banzai!" That means the same as hurrah!

Then Take tumbled off the gate-post and raced up to the porch after the soldier. At the porch, the soldiers broke ranks.

The General's Mother ran into the house and brought out sweet rice-cakes and sugared beans. She fed the entire army. There were six boys in it.

"Fighting makes a soldier very hungry," Taro said.

Then his Mother went into the house and brought out more cakes and more beans.

The boys ate them all.

The army stayed at Taro's house and played with his soldiers and drilled on his porch until lunch-time, when they all went to their own homes.

After luncheon Taro played with his tops. He had two beautiful ones. One was a singing top.

He was spinning the singing top when all of a sudden there was a great noise in the street. He ran to see what was the matter.

There, almost right in front of his own house, was a real show! There was a man and a little boy and a monkey! The monkey had on a kimono. The monkey and the little boy did tricks together. Then the man and the boy did tricks. The man balanced a ladder on his shoulder. The little boy climbed right up the ladder and hung from the top of it by his toes.

Every boy in the street came running to see them. Take came, too. The little boy, hanging from the top of the ladder, opened a fan and fanned himself! Then he climbed to his feet again and stood on one foot on the top of the ladder. Then he made a bow!

Taro and Take almost stopped breathing, they were so afraid the little boy would fall.

The little boy threw his fan to the monkey. The monkey caught it and fanned himself, while the little boy came down the ladder to the ground, all safe and sound.

The Twins' Mother came out, too. She saw the little boy. She felt sorry for him. She felt sorry for the monkey, too. "Come in and have some rice-cakes," she said.

The man, the boy, and the monkey all came into the garden of the little house. All the other children came, too.

The Mother brought out cakes and tea. Everybody had some. The man and the boy thanked her. They made the monkey thank her, too. He got down on his knees and bowed clear to the ground.

When they had eaten the cakes and drank the tea, the man and the boy said, Sayonara, Sayonara." The monkey jumped on the man's shoulder, and away they went down the street, with all the boys following after.

Taro and Take did not go with them, because their Mother said, "It is almost time for supper." They watched the others from their gate. Then they came back and sat down on the top step of the porch.

"I think you've had just as good a time on your birthday as I had on mine," Take said.

"Better," said Taro.

"Taro, we are getting very old, aren't we?" Take went on.

"Yes," said Taro, "we are six now."

"What are you going to be when you are seven or eight years old and grown up?" asked Take.

"Well," said Taro, "I'm not sure, but I think I shall be either a general or a juggler," Taro said. "What are you going to be?"

"There's only one thing I can grow to be," said Take. "If I am very, very good, maybe I'll grow to be a mother-in-law sometime."

Just then they heard their Mother's voice calling them to supper. It was very late for supper—it was really almost night.

The shadows in the little garden were growing long. The birds were chirping sleepily to each other in the wistaria vine. The iris flowers were nodding their purple heads to the little goldfish in the pond. Everything was quiet and still.

The Twins stopped to look at the little garden before they went in to their supper.

"Good night, pretty world," they said, and waved their hands.

 

Mother Goose  by Frederick Richardson

Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe

 

The House That Jack Built  by Randolph Caldecott

The House That Jack Built

This is the House that Jack built.

This is the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

This is the Rat, That ate the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

This is the Cat, That killed the Rat, That ate the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

This is the Dog, That worried the Cat, That killed the Rat, That ate the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

This is the Cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the Dog, That worried the Cat, That killed the Rat, That ate the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

This is the Maiden all forlorn, That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the Dog, That worried the Cat, That killed the Rat, That ate the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

This is the Man all tattered and torn, That kissed the Maiden all forlorn, That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the Dog, That worried the Cat, That killed the Rat, That ate the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

This is the Priest, all shaven and shorn, That married the Man all tattered and torn, That kissed the Maiden all forlorn, That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the Dog, That worried the Cat, That killed the Rat, That ate the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

This is the Cock that crowed in the morn, That waked the Priest, all shaven and shorn, That married the Man all tattered and torn, That kissed the Maiden all forlorn, That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the Dog, That worried the Cat, That killed the Rat, That ate the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

This is the Farmer who sowed the corn, That fed the Cock that crowed in the morn, That waked the Priest, all shaven and shorn, That married the Man all tattered and torn, That kissed the Maiden all forlorn, That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the Dog, That worried the Cat, That killed the Rat, That ate the Malt, That lay in the House that Jack built.

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

Old Woman, Old Woman

There was an old woman tossed in a basket, Seventeen times as high as the moon; But where she was going no mortal could tell, For under her arm she carried a broom. "Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I, "Whither, oh whither, oh whither so high?" "To sweep the cobwebs from the sky; And I'll be with you by-and-by."

 

Among the Meadow People  by Clara Dillingham Pierson

The Measuring Worm's Joke

O NE day there crawled over the meadow fence a jolly young Measuring Worm. He came from a bush by the roadside, and although he was still a young Worm he had kept his eyes open and had a very good idea how things go in this world. "Now," thought he, as he rested on the top rail of the fence, "I shall meet some new friends. I do hope they will be pleasant. I will look about me and see if anyone is in sight." So he raised his head high in the air and, sure enough, there were seven Caterpillars of different kinds on a tall clump of weeds near by.

The Measuring Worm hurried over to where they were, and making his best bow said: "I have just come from the roadside and think I shall live in the meadow. May I feed with you?"

The Caterpillars were all glad to have him, and he joined their party. He asked many questions about the meadow, and the people who lived there, and the best place to find food. The Caterpillars said, "Oh, the meadow is a good place, and the people are nice enough, but they are not at all fashionable—not at all."

"Why," said the Measuring Worm, "if you have nice people and a pleasant place in which to live, I don't see what more you need."

"That is all very well," said a black and yellow Caterpillar, "but what we want is fashionable society. The meadow people always do things in the same way, and one gets so tired of that. Now can you not tell us something different, something that Worms do in the great world from which you come?"

Just at this minute the Measuring Worm had a funny idea, and he wondered if the Caterpillars would be foolish enough to copy him. He thought it would be a good joke if they did, so he said very soberly, "I notice that when you walk you keep your body quite close to the ground. I have seen many Worms do the same thing and it is all right if they wish to, but none of my family ever do so. Did you notice how I walk?"

"Yes, yes," cried the Caterpillars, "show us again."

So the Measuring Worm walked back and forth for them, arching his body as high as he could, and stopping every little while to raise his head and look haughtily around.

"What grace!" exclaimed the Caterpillars. "What grace, and what style!" and one black and brown one tried to walk in the same way.

The Measuring Worm wanted to laugh to see how awkward the black and brown Caterpillar was, but he did not even smile, and soon every one of the Caterpillars was trying the same thing, and saying "Look at me. Don't I do well?" or, "How was that?"

You can just imagine how those seven Caterpillars looked when trying to walk like the Measuring Worm. Every few minutes one of them would tumble over, and they all got warm and tired. At last they thought they had learned it very well, and took a long rest, in which they planned to take a long walk and show the other meadow people the fashion they had received from the outside world.

"We will walk in a line," they said, "as far as we can, and let them all see us. Ah, it will be a great day for the meadow when we begin to set the fashions!"

The mischievous young Measuring Worm said not a word, and off they started. The big black and yellow Caterpillar went first, the black and brown one next, and so on down to the smallest one at the end of the line, all arching their bodies as high as they could. All the meadow people stared at them, calling each other to come and look, and whenever the Caterpillars reached a place where there were many watching them, they would all raise their heads and look around exactly as the Measuring Worm had done. When they got back to their clump of bushes, they had the most dreadful backaches, but they said to each other, "Well, we have been fashionable for once."

And, at the same time, out in the grass, the meadow people were saying, "Did you ever see anything so ridiculous in your life?" All of which goes to show how very silly people sometimes are when they think too much of being fashionable.

 

A Book of Nursery Rhymes  by Francis D. Bedford

The Little Dandy

 

The Story-Teller  by Maud Lindsay

The Plate of Pancakes

O NCE upon a time a woman was frying some pancakes, and as she turned the last cake in the pan she said to her little boy:

"If you were a little older I should send you with some of these fine cakes for your father's dinner, but as it is, he must wait till supper for them."

"Oh, do let me take them," said the little boy, whose name was Karl. "Just see how tall I am. And only yesterday my grandmother said I was old enough to learn my letters. Do let me go!"

And he begged and begged till at last she selected the brownest and crispest cakes, and putting them in a plate with a white napkin over them she bade him take them.

Now the path that led from Karl's home to the saw-mill where his father worked was straight enough, and plain enough, but it ran through the wood that was called Enchanted. Fairies lived there, so some people thought, and goblins that liked to work mischief; and never before had the little boy been allowed to go there alone.

As he hurried along with the plate of pancakes in his hand he glanced into every green thicket that he passed, half hopeful, and half fearful that he might find a tiny creature hidden in the leaves. Not a glimpse of fairy or goblin did he see, but when he came to the blackberry bushes where the sweetest berries grow something seemed to whisper to him: "Stop, Karl, and eat."

Something seemed to whisper to him: "Stop, Karl, and eat."

"But I am taking a plate of pancakes for my father's dinner," said Karl speaking aloud.

"A moment or two will make no difference. You can run fast," came the whisper again.

"Oh, yes, I can run fast," said Karl; and he put the plate down under the bushes and began to pick the berries. They were as ripe and sweet as they had looked and every one that the little boy put into his mouth made him wish for another; and if he turned away from the bushes the whisper was sure to come: "One more and then go."

The pancakes grew cold in the plate, and the sun which had been high in the sky when Karl started from home slipped farther and farther into the west; but still he lingered, till suddenly the evening whistle of the mill sounded sharp and shrill in his ears.

"Why, it is time for my father to come home," he cried. "Dear me, dear me, what shall I do?"

There was nothing for him to do but to go home, so home he went with the plate of cold pancakes in his hand and the tears rolling down his cheeks.

When he told his mother and grandmother what had happened they looked at each other wisely as if they thought more about it than they would say; but they bade him dry his tears.

"You will be more careful another time," they said; and so the matter ended.

But Karl did not forget it. It was many a month before his mother fried pancakes again, but no sooner did he see her turning the cakes in the pan than he said:

"I wish my father had some of these fine cakes for his dinner, don't you, mother?"

"Indeed I do," said she, smiling at his grandmother as she spoke; and as soon as the cakes were done she selected the brownest and crispest, and putting them in a plate with a white napkin over them, she bade him take them.

"I'll get there in time for my father's dinner today," he said as he started out; but in a very short while he was back with an empty plate in his hand, and the tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I only put the plate down for a minute while I chased a rabbit that said, 'If you catch me you may have me;' and when I came back every pancake was gone," he sobbed.

His mother and grandmother looked at each other wisely when they heard this.

"It is just as I thought the first time," said his mother. "The goblins are at work in the wood. He must never go there again."

But to this the grandmother would not agree. "Leave it to me," she said, and the very next day she fried pancakes, and selecting the brownest and crispest she put them in a plate with a white napkin over them and bade Karl take them to his father.

"And if any bid you stop or stay, or turn your feet from out your way, say but the word that is spelled with the fourteenth and fifteenth letters of the alphabet three times in a loud voice, and all will go well with you," she said.

"All right," said Karl, nodding his head proudly, for he knew all his letters by this time and could spell hard words like c-a-t, cat, m-a-t, mat. "All right," but he did not stop to count the letters then for he was in a great hurry to be off.

"I guess my father will be glad to get such fine pancakes for his dinner," he said; and he ran so fast that he was half-way to the mill before he knew it. There was no whispering voice in the wood that day and no talking rabbit to tempt him to a chase; but as he came to a place where another path crossed his own, a bird called out from the heart of the wood:

"Quick, quick, come here, here, here—"

"Where, where?" cried Karl; and he was just about to start in search of the bird when he remembered what his grandmother had said:

"If any bid you stop or stay, or turn your feet from out your way, say but the word that is spelled with the fourteenth and fifteenth letters of the alphabet three times in a loud voice, and all will go well with you."

"A, B, C, D, E, F, G," he chanted, counting the letters on his fingers as he said them, "H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O:" N was the fourteenth letter and O was the fifteenth. N-O; that was easy.

"No! No! No!" he shouted; and—do you believe it?—in less time than it takes to tell it he was at the mill door with every pancake safe and hot.

And the story goes that though he came and went through the Enchanted Wood all the days of his life he was never hindered by anything there again; and he never saw a goblin though he lived to be as old as his grandmother had been when he was a little boy.

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

The First of May

The fair maid who, the first of May, Goes to the fields at break of day, And washes in dew from the hawthorn-tree, Will ever after handsome be.

 

The Sandman: His Farm Stories  by Willliam J. Hopkins

The Hay 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.

All about were other fields. One of them was a great enormous field, and in this field was growing grass that would be made into hay.

One day, when the summer was nearly half over, Uncle John saw that the little tassels at the tops of the stems of the grass were getting yellow, and he knew that the grass was ripe enough to cut for hay; and the grass was as high as little John's head. So, very early the next morning, Uncle Solomon and Uncle John took their scythes and their whetstones and went over to the great enormous field, and two other men came to help. When the grass that these other men had was ready to cut, then Uncle Solomon and Uncle John would go and help them cut it.

And they had a jug, and in it was water, with some molasses and a little vinegar mixed with it. This was for them to drink when they got very hot and thirsty, mowing, and they put it down by the stone wall, where it was cool.

Then the men all took their whetstones and sharpened their scythes, and Uncle Solomon started first, at the corner of the field, and he swung his scythe back and forth, and every time he swung the scythe it cut down some grass and made a noise, "Swish." And then he took a little step ahead and swung the scythe again, and he walked very slowly along, cutting the grass. And when Uncle Solomon had got a little way along, so that the next scythe wouldn't cut him, Uncle John began next to the place where Uncle Solomon had begun, and he swung his scythe and walked slowly along, cutting the grass. Then one of the other men began at the next place, when Uncle John had got a little way along, and then the last man. So all the men were walking slowly along, swinging their scythes together, and cutting the grass, and the grass fell down in four long rows. And they mowed this way all the morning, and cut down all the grass in the field.

And just when they had finished, and all the grass was cut down, they heard the horn that Aunt Deborah was blowing. That meant that dinner was ready. They had a horn to blow for dinner because the men had to work in fields that were far from the house, where they couldn't hear a dinner-bell. But they could hear the horn. So the horn hung on a hook beside the kitchen door; and when dinner was ready, Aunt Deborah took the horn from the hook and blew it.

When the men heard the horn, they took their coats and their scythes and their whetstones and the jug, and they went back along the road to the farm-house and left the grass lying there, just as it fell down. And the sun shone on the grass and dried it, so that it was changing to hay.

Then, the next morning, Uncle Solomon and Uncle John took their pitchforks and went over to the field and spread the grass out evenly, so that it would dry better; and they left it until the afternoon.

In the afternoon, Uncle John and Uncle Solomon took two great wide wooden rakes, and little John took a little rake, and they went to the field. Then Uncle Solomon and Uncle John each held one of the great wide rakes so that it trailed behind, and they walked along and the rakes rolled the grass up into long rows. Then they walked along the other way, trailing the rakes, and the grass rolled up into piles, and little John raked after. They call the piles of hay haycocks, and they were as high as little John's head. Then they went away and left the hay there all night.

In the morning, when the sun had shone on the haycocks long enough to dry off the dew, Uncle John got out the old oxen. And they put their heads down, and he put the yoke over and the bows under, and he hooked the tongue of the hay-cart to the yoke. Then he put little John up in the cart and took the pitchforks, and gave little John his little rake. And the old oxen started walking slowly along, out into the road and along the road to the great enormous field, and in at the gate. And they walked along beside one of the haycocks, and there they stopped.

Then Uncle John lifted little John out of the cart, and Uncle Solomon and Uncle John both stuck their pitchforks into the haycock and lifted it right up and pitched it over the side of the cart, so that it fell into the cart. Then they went along to the next haycock and pitched that in the same way, and little John raked after, raking up the hay that had dropped from the pitchforks. So they went along to the other haycocks and pitched them into the cart, and when the hay was nearly up to the top of the side of the cart, Uncle John climbed in, and he made the hay even in the cart, with his fork. Uncle Solomon pitched the hay up into the cart, and Uncle John made it even in the cart, so it couldn't fall out, and they piled the hay up in the cart until it was a great enormous load, higher than the room. And little John raked after.

When they had made the load as high as they could, the old oxen started and turned around, and walked back through the gate and along the road to the farm-house, and in at the gate and up the track past the kitchen door and past the shed, and in at the big door of the barn. And they went along in the open place in the barn and stopped in the middle, so that the load of hay was beside the floor of the loft where the hay was kept, and the top of the load was higher than the floor of the loft.

Then Uncle Solomon climbed up the ladder to the loft, and Uncle John pitched the hay from the cart to the loft. And Uncle Solomon took his fork and pitched the hay back against the wall and packed it tight, so that they could get more in when they brought it, and fill the loft as full as it would hold.

When all the hay was out of the cart, Uncle Solomon came down from the loft, and the oxen started walking along, out of the other big door and around the barn and back to the hay-field. Then they filled the cart again, the same way that they did the first time, and put that hay in the barn. And they had to go back three times after the first time before they had all the hay that was in the field. And when it was all in the barn, there was hay enough for the horses and the oxen and the cows to eat all winter.

Then the old oxen walked out through the other door of the barn, and around the barn to the shed. And Uncle John unhooked the tongue of the cart and put the cart in the shed, and he took off the yoke and the oxen went into the barn and went to sleep.

And that's all.

 

Mother Goose  by Frederick Richardson

Daffodils

 

The Nursery Book of Bible Stories  by Amy Steedman

Nehemiah, the Warrior Builder

I T was considered a post of great honour in Babylon, at the palace of Shushan, to be cupbearer to the king, to fill the golden goblet with the king's special wine, and to serve him at the royal table. Not only must the cupbearer be an honourable and trustworthy man, but something else also was required of him—he must always show a cheerful face when on duty, for it was thought to be unlucky if sad looks should meet the king's eye.

Now Nehemiah, one of the captive Jews, was cupbearer to the King of Babylon when this story begins. He was a great favourite at court, and did his service cheerfully, although at times his heart was sad when he thought of his own land, and the ruin of his beloved city, Jerusalem.

Very little news ever reached him of that far-away city; but one day a little company of Jews arrived, who brought tidings from Jerusalem, and among them was a near relation of Nehemiah, the king's cupbearer.

It was a day of great excitement for all the Jews in the city: news from home was as welcome as water to a parched land. But this news, alas! brought no refreshing joyfulness. It was a sad account which the men gave of their beloved land. Sorrow and want were everywhere. Jerusalem was laid in ruins, the walls broken down, and the gates burned. It stood there defenceless against any enemy that cared to attack it.

As Nehemiah listened to all this he bowed his head and wept. But what was the use of tears? There was a better thing to do: he would pray to God for help. And as he prayed a splendid plan came into his head.

The king, Artaxerxes, was seated upon his golden couch, and the queen sat beside him, in the great hall whose pavement was of red and blue and white marble. White and blue curtains were fastened by purple cords and silver rings to the marble pillars. From the gardens came the scent of roses and the breath of orange blossoms. Everything was beautiful and pleasing in the king's sight. Only Nehemiah, the king's cupbearer, was at fault. He came forward to present the golden cup, and the king frowned as he looked upon him.

"Why is thy countenance sad?" he asked at once, for Nehemiah had never looked like that before.

For a moment fear clutched at Nehemiah's heart—it was dangerous to offend the king in the smallest matter; but he answered bravely—

"Let the king live for ever," he said. "Why should not my countenance be sad, when Jerusalem, my city, is in ruins, her walls broken down, and her gates burned?"

This was surely the time to speak of his great plan, and in his heart he prayed to God to teach him what words to use, as the king went on to ask him what it was he wanted.

"If it please the king," he said, "that thou wouldest send me unto my own city, that I may build up its walls."

It was a bold thing to ask; but the very boldness of the cupbearer seemed to please the king, and his request was granted. And not only was Nehemiah allowed to go, but he was given letters of safe conduct, and a written order that he should have all the wood he needed from the king's forest for the building which he had planned.

It was a big work for one man to set out to do. But no difficulties daunted Nehemiah: it was work for his country and his God, and that thought strengthened his arm and filled his heart with courage. He had no use for the words "fear" or "failure."

After a long journey across desert and plain, he at last arrived at the ruined city, and found it in even a worse state than he had expected. For three days he rested, and then late at night he secretly and silently slipped out of the city, and went all round its broken-down walls. There, in the dim starlight, he saw the great piles of rubbish lying in dark heaps; the black gaps where no gates stood spoke to him of the desolation of the city; but the sight, instead of discouraging him, only made him keen to begin the work. He had told no one in the city yet what he had come to do; but next day he called all the Jews together, and laid his plans before them.

It is wonderful what one man's enthusiasm can do. All the men who listened to Nehemiah were soon almost as anxious to build up the walls as he was. As they listened to his words, all their love for their country and pride in their city began to stir in their hearts, and they cried out as with one voice, "Let us rise up and build."

"So built we the wall."

Of course, the enemies who lived amongst them and in the country round about were watching what was going on, and they laughed when they heard of the great plan. What could this little handful of weak people do?

But they forgot that behind their weak hands was the strong arm of God, and the stout heart of his servant Nehemiah, who replied to their mocking words the calm assurance, "The God of Heaven, He will prosper us."

And before long their enemies saw that they had mocked too soon. Day by day the walls grew higher and higher. Nehemiah's plan worked well. Everybody was given his own special part to build, and worked with all his might. Even the women helped. The daughters of one of the rulers of the city were toiling there. Then, as now, the women knew that to serve their country was a better thing than to live in dainty ease—that toil-worn, roughened hands were a badge of honour in the great service.

The mocking enemies who watched the work began to be uneasy. The city would soon be a stronghold if this went on. Some plot must be laid to stop the work, some cunning plan of attack thought out to make it a failure.

But they little knew Nehemiah. He was just as good a soldier and general as he was a planner and builder, and he knew how to put courage into the hearts of the people. "Be not ye afraid of them," his voice rang out: "remember the Lord, which is great and terrible, and fight for your brethren, your sons, and your daughters, your wives, and your houses."

Then he divided the people into two companies: one half to be regular soldiers, ready to fight whenever the enemy attacked, and the other half to go steadily on with the building, but with weapons ready too. The men who worked only with one hand held a sword in the other, and those who needed both hands for their work had their swords fastened to their sides.

From the first faint light of dawn to the time when the stars began to come out the people worked, and all night long they watched and waited, ready at the sound of the trumpet call to assemble for the attack and beat back the enemy.

In vain, too, the enemy tried to set a trap for Nehemiah. They pretended to be friendly and to want peace, and they begged him to come and talk things over with them, meaning that he should never return; but he only answered that he was too busy—it was a time for work, not talk. Every plan failed, and always the walls rose higher and higher.

It was not only the city walls which Nehemiah made strong, but during the time the work went on he was trying also to make the people stronger and better, and more fit for victory when it should come. He bade the rich people help the poor, instead of grinding them down; he showed all the workers how they might deny themselves for the common good, and how they should give up everything that hindered the work and was displeasing to God.

No wonder with such a leader the day of victory would not be far off. In a wonderfully short time the walls were finished, the gates were put up, and Jerusalem was a strong and fortified city once more.

Then Nehemiah ordered a great feast should be held—a feast of dedication, or the giving of the walls to God. Two processions of joyful people were formed, and as they swept round under the strong walls, and met in the Temple to give thanks to God, a song of praise and great rejoicing went up, which swelled to such a mighty burst of sound, that it echoed far over the land, and was heard outside the city walls.

So Nehemiah proved what it was possible for a man to do when strengthened by the call of duty to serve his country and his God.

 

The Real Mother Goose  by Blanche Fisher Wright

Sulky Sue

Here's Sulky Sue, What shall we do? Turn her face to the wall Till she comes to.