THE

NURSERY

A Monthly Magazine

For Youngest Readers.

[Pg 161]

“CLEAR THE COAST.”

[Pg 162]

“CLEAR THE COAST!”

C

“Look out for that woman!” cried little
Harry, who was standing at the top of the hill.

A poor German woman was crossing the road. She had
a large basket full of bundles, which she carried on her
head. In her right hand she had an umbrella and a tin pail,
and on her arm another basket. Truly, seeing that the roads
were slippery, she had more than her share of burdens.

She tried to get out of the way; but Frank’s new sled
was such a swift runner, that it came near striking her, and
caused her to nearly lose her balance, putting her at the
same time into a great fright.

“You bad boys, you almost threw me down!” she exclaimed,
when she recovered from the start they had given
her, and looked around to see if she had dropped any of
her bundles.

But down the hill they rushed on their sled, Frank losing
his hat in their descent, but little caring for that in his
delight. The two boys, after reaching the foot of the hill,
turned, and began to drag their sled up again.

“That woman,” said Frank, “called us bad boys. Let
us tell her that we are not bad boys. We did not mean to
run her down.”

“Here comes Harry, running. What has he got to say?”
asked Albert.

“I tell you what, boys,” said Harry, “you’ll be taken up
if you run people down in that way.”

“Why didn’t she clear the coast when I told her to?”
said Albert.[Pg 163]

“Why didn’t you steer your sled out of the way?”
returned Harry.

“I didn’t hit her, did I?” said Albert.

“No; but you were trying to see how near you could
come without hitting her,” replied Harry. “It’s too bad
to treat a poor old woman so!”

“So it was,” said Frank. “What shall we do about it?”

“That’s for Albert to say,” exclaimed Harry.

“Well,” replied Albert, “the right thing will be to offer
to drag her bundles for her on the sled.”

“That’s it!” said the other two boys.

By this time they had reached the place where the poor
woman was moving slowly along under her heavy burdens.
She seemed very tired, and sighed often as she picked
her way timidly over the frozen snow.

“We are sorry we frightened you,” said Albert. “We
did not mean to do any harm. Put your baskets on this
sled, and we will drag them for you as far as you want to
go.”

“Well, you are little gentlemen, after all,” said the
woman, “and I’m sorry I was so vexed with you.”

“You had cause,” said Frank: “we were to blame.”

Then she put her two baskets and the tin pail on the sled;
and the three boys escorted her to her home, where she
thanked them heartily for the way in which they had made
amends for Albert’s bad steering.

[Pg 164]

WHO IS IT?

[Pg 165]

A LETTER TO SANTA CLAUS.

The little boy who got his aunt to write this letter for
him wishes to have it appear in “The Nursery,” so that
Santa Claus may be sure to read it. When it is printed,
the little boy says he can read it himself. Here is the
letter:—

THE BOY AND THE NUTS.

A boy once found some nuts in a jar. Like all boys, he
was fond of nuts, and was glad to hear that he might put
his hand once in the jar, and have all the nuts he could then
take out. He thrust his hand down the neck of the jar,
and took hold of all the nuts he could. When his hand
was quite full, he did his best to draw it out of the jar.

But the neck of the jar was small, and his hand was so
full of nuts, that he could not draw it out. He felt so sad,
that tears fell from his eyes. His friend who stood near
told him to let go half the nuts. He did so, and then drew
out his hand with ease.

We shall find it so in life: men lose all, if they try to get
too much.

[Pg 167]

EDDY’S THANKSGIVING.

Last year Eddy spent Thanksgiving Day at his grandpa’s.
For a week before the time came, he chattered about going.
He wanted to take with him his drum and his rocking-chair,
and Frisk his dog. But mamma said he would have plenty
of playthings and playmates without them.

You would have thought so too, if you had seen the
sleighs full of uncles and aunts and cousins that came driving
up to grandpa’s door the day before Thanksgiving; and,
if you had heard the laughing and shouting, you would have
said they were as merry a set of people as ever were got
together.

Thanksgiving morning, grandpa said they must all go to
church,—every one of them, big and little,—except Aunt[Pg 168]
Susan, who had a bad cold. So mamma dressed Eddy for
church, and told him to be careful to keep himself looking
nice; for he was one of the worst boys to tear and soil his
clothes that you ever saw.

Eddy took a seat in the parlor, intending to be very
careful; but pretty soon he heard his cousins Harry and
John talking in the kitchen, and went out to see what was
going on there.

As he passed along, he saw Towzer, grandpa’s great
shaggy dog, on the porch, and thought he must have a romp
with him. He made Towzer sit up and shake hands, and
perform other tricks that had been taught him. Then he
thought Towzer would make a good horse.

So he straddled Towzer’s back with his short fat legs, and
told him to “go ‘long.” But Towzer did not like to play
horse, and tried to shake Eddy off. Eddy held fast, and[Pg 169]
wriggled and shouted to make Towzer go. All at once the
dog gave a spring, and threw Eddy off into a puddle of
water.

Poor Eddy went into the house, muddy and dripping, and
found that everybody was ready to start for church. Of
course, there was not time to dress him again; so he had to
stay with Aunt Susan.

He did not think that was very hard; for, after he was
dressed clean again, Aunt Susan gave him a cooky to eat,
and a picture-book to look at.

When he had got through with the book, she took him
down cellar with her to get some apples. Aunt Susan soon
filled her pan, and started back; but Eddy stopped to taste
the apples in every barrel.

“Come, Eddy,” called Aunt Susan from the head of the
cellar-stairs.

“In a minute,” answered Eddy, straining to reach the
apples in a barrel that was nearly empty. Just then he
slipped, and fell into the barrel head first, with his feet
sticking up.

How he squealed! Aunt Susan’s cold had made her so
deaf, that she did not hear him. He kept on squealing and
kicking until the barrel tipped over; and then he backed
out of it, and went slowly up to the kitchen, very red in
the face.

He was pretty quiet after that until dinner was ready.
After dinner the children cracked nuts, and parched corn,
and played merry games; and Eddy had his share of all the
fun. When he went to bed, his Aunt Susan asked him
whether he had had a good time.

“Splendid!” said Eddy.

“How did you like being thrown into the puddle?” said
Aunt Susan.[Pg 170]

“First rate!” said Eddy.

“Did you think it good fun to dive into the barrel?”

“Jolly!” said the little rogue. “I’d like to do it again.”

BENNY’S ARITHMETIC LESSON.

Little Benny has just begun to go to school.

Some boys as young and active as he is would rather play
all day long than to spend part of the time in the school-room;
but he seems to like it.

Almost every day he comes running home, saying, “I’ve
learned something more to-day;” and, after he has told us
about it, we send him out of doors with his little cousins,
who live close by.

We know that all work and no play would make Benny
a dull boy.

To-day he felt very proud, because he had been learning
to add. He said that he could say the first table.

I told him to begin, and I would tell him if he was right.

So he began; and this is the way it went on:—

We had a good hearty laugh when we got through; for
Benny’s earnest way of reciting pleased me, and he enjoyed
the emphatic manner in which I replied to his additions.
How many of the little “Nursery” boys can say the table
that Benny did?

[Pg 171]

GRANDPA’S BOOTS.

How the stars did snap that December night! The moon
was up too; and how cold and white she looked!

And how busy Jack Frost was! No one saw him swing
a hammer; no one heard him drive a nail: but, by the
time morning had come, he had laid right across the ponds
and the river a floor of ice smoother than any wooden floor
ever put down by the joiners of Norridgewock.

All the boys were out sliding. Ed Peet had come from
over the river; Fred Danforth was there from the tavern;
and George Sawtelle came running up from the big house
under the willow. Others were there too, slipping along on
Jack Frost’s floor.

Little Albert looked out of the window, and saw the boys
at their play. Why couldn’t he go out too?[Pg 172]

“Shall I go, mother?” he asked.

“Your slippers are too thin, Albert.”

“Oh! I can put on grandpa’s boots.”

“Yes, you can go, but be careful. You are too young
for such rough sport.”

Off scampered the eager feet, and on went the big boots.
A smile must have lighted up the mother’s eyes as she
heard her little boy tramping over the floor in the heavy
boots.

The boys were taking their turn at sliding. Away down
at the end of the line stood Albert. They were sliding
carefully, not running too hard; for a little way out the ice
was thin. After a while, it was Albert’s turn. “I’ll beat
those big, clumsy boys,” he thought.

Taking a long run, driving ahead with all his force, he
shouted, “Now see your grandpa go!” And, sure enough,
grandpa’s boots went and went, out where the ice was thin,
and down went Albert into the water! The water was not
deep, though. He was out again in a moment; and there
he stood, cold and dripping like an icicle in a January thaw.

I can hear the boys laughing, and I seem to see the smile
lighting up the mother’s brown eyes still more merrily,
when her little boy came home. Albert never forgot it.
In after-years he would say, “Whenever I am inclined to
show off, I think of grandpa’s boots.”

[Pg 173]

WHAT JESSIE CORTRELL DID.

Poor little Johnny Cortrell’s eyes kept growing dimmer;
and one day in May-time they failed altogether, and Jessie,
his sister, led him home from school stone blind.

His father and mother were greatly distressed at this.
Dr. James held a candle to the poor blind eyes; but they
never blinked. He said he was not enough of an oculist to
determine whether they could be cured; but there was a
doctor in Boston—Dr. Williamson, 33 Blank Street—who
would be able to pronounce with certainty.

Now, the Cortrells lived thirty-five miles away from Boston,
and were quite poor. The father did not see how he
could afford the expense of sending Johnny to Boston yet
a while, but hoped to do it in the autumn.

Little Jessie overheard her parents talking on the subject,
and made up her mind to try and see what she could do.[Pg 174]
She thought she could not wait three, four, or five months,
to have Johnny cured: it ought to be done at once.

The next day she told her plan to Johnny, and they made
their preparations; and one bright morning, when it was
school-time, she and Johnny stole out of the house hand in
hand, quite unnoticed by any one.

They met a little girl named Jane Anderson; and by her
Jessie sent the following letter to her parents:—

Mr. Cortrell was much alarmed. “I must start after
them, wife,” said he. “Those children on the road to Boston
all alone! Jessie is crazy.”

But Mrs. Cortrell said, “What if God put it into her heart,
John?” And so they concluded to do nothing about it.

Well, the children walked and walked, and now and then
they got a drive; and, on the third morning, Jessie led
Johnny into Boston over the Brighton road.

They found Dr. Williamson. He received them kindly.
He examined Johnny’s eyes, and then said to Jessie, “I
think there are nine chances in ten that I can cure your
brother.”

Jessie bounded with joy. The good doctor accommodated
them in his own house while the cure was going on;
and after not many days he sent the children home in the
cars, and, as he left them, placed a sealed envelope in the
hand of Jessie.[Pg 175]

“My bill for your father: there is no haste about it,”
said he kindly; and then he bade them good-by.

The journey was a short one. Happy enough were the
parents to see their dear children back again, and Johnny
quite cured of his blindness.

Then Jessie handed her father the bill. “Whatever it
is, I shall pay it cheerfully,” said he. He opened it, and
read,—

So Johnny got his eyes again, and the doctor’s bill was
settled; and Jessie had done it all.[A]

THE ACORNS.

[Pg 176]

GRANDMOTHER’S BIRTHDAY.

[Pg 177]

[Pg 178]

THE BALLOON.

[Pg 180]

WHAT THE CAT SAID TO THE MONKEY.

[Pg 181]

THE STARLING AND THE SPARROWS.

The starling is a trim little bird, measuring from seven
to eight inches in length. He goes dressed in black, and
his coat glistens like satin in the sunlight. In autumn,
however, after moulting, he looks as if bedecked with white
pearls.

This is his travelling-suit, and in it he prepares to take
his flight southward to a warmer region. He is a European
bird; and so he goes from Germany as far south as Spain,
Italy, and Greece. Now and then he ventures as far as
Africa.[Pg 182]

But, as soon as spring begins to appear, the starling is
sure to come back northward to his old haunts. He comes
with merry songs and chatterings, and seems determined
that no one shall be sad while he is about.

Flying to the topmost bough of some tree in the neighborhood
of his old home, he proclaims to all the world that
the Good Fellow (as the Germans call him) has come back,
and that all the people may be glad accordingly.

After this, his first business will be to see how it stands
with his summer lodgings; for he wants to be spared the
trouble of finding a new mansion if he can help it. Somewhere
about, there is, perhaps, a starling’s tub or bucket,
that some friends of his have placed on a tree for his accommodation,
in their garden or yard, after making a hole or
door by which he may enter.

But, dear me! what is his indignation, when he finds that
a family of saucy sparrows, going upon the old maxim of
“might makes right,” have taken up their abode in his
house, without so much as saying, “By your leave”!

“Quit this!” cries the starling in tones that cannot be
mistaken.

“Go away, you black rogue!” cries the sparrow. “I
shall not quit this nice house for you.”

But the starling has a sharp bill, and he hits the poor
sparrow with it. Sparrow calls him all the hard names he
can think of, and summons the whole sparrow community
to his assistance against the mean fellow who has come to
deprive him of his home.

The cries grow louder and wilder. Such an uproar of
sparrows as there is before the door! At last comes Madam
Starling flying to the rescue; and then the battle is quickly
decided. The sparrows are driven off, and the starlings
remain in full possession.[Pg 183]

Madam Starling looks about with her clear, bright little
eyes, and sees that the troublesome sparrows have all gone
away; and her faithful mate lights on the topmost bough
of a tree near by, and pours forth a song of rejoicing and
of triumph.

But soon the wind blows cold from the north. Ah! old
Winter comes back a moment or two just to see what Spring
is about. The flakes descend on their black coats; and the
starlings come out from their little house, and look about to
see what’s the matter.[Pg 184]

Have they made a mistake? Oh, no! Soon the sun will
be out. April has come, and the snow will not last long.
They first go to work, and clean their little house, pitching
out all the rubbish the sparrows have left there.

Straw, feathers, and hay must now be got for a nice fresh
nest. This they soon make; and one day Madam Starling
shows her mate five or six clear blue eggs in the nest. For
nearly sixteen days she must sit brooding on these eggs;
and then—what joy!—half a dozen bright little starlings
make their appearance.

But, dear me, how hungry they are! Father and mother
have just as much as they can do to feed them. The little
ones seem to be crying all the time for “more, more!”
Will they never get enough?

In a few weeks the children grow so strong and sleek, that
Papa Starling says to them, “Now, boys and girls, you must
learn to fly, and get your own living. Come, tumble
out!”

So the young ones have to venture
out; and soon they find they
can pick up worms and seeds enough
for themselves. What joy to fly
from tree to tree! How pleasant
to light among the green stalks and
the flowers on the warm summer
days! The starlings have a merry
time of it; and, when winter comes,
all they have to do is to fly southward.

No sooner are they gone than the
sparrows again take possession of the forsaken house, in
great delight at having such a nice warm dwelling for the
winter.

[Pg 185]

THE TEA-PARTY.

[Pg 187]

THE SPRAINED ANKLE.

Harry has been a long, long time at the window, watching
the boys as they go past on their sleds. It is a bright
afternoon, and they are enjoying the coasting very much.

Harry draws a long sigh, which makes his mamma look
up from her work, and say,—

“I know it is hard for you, darling; but think what
might have happened to Johnny if you had not saved him.”

Would you like to know what it is which keeps Harry
in-doors while there is so much fun outside?

Well, while he is counting the sleds as they go down the
long hill in front of the house, I will tell you.

It was on Saturday afternoon, a week ago. He was out
coasting with the other boys. Johnny Ware, a little fellow
only five years old, was with them.[Pg 188]

Harry and several other boys were going very swiftly
down the hill as Johnny was coming up.

“Get out of the way!” shouted one boy.

“Look out, Johnny, turn to the right!” cried another.
But the little fellow did not know which was right, and,
being bewildered, stood still. The sleds were almost upon
him, and it seemed as if he must be run over, when Harry
caught him, and threw him one side, but not in season to
save his own ankle.

It was badly sprained, and he had to be carried home.
But when Harry remembers the danger, and how near
Johnny came to being run over, he does not complain. He
can even watch the boys cheerfully, and clap his hands in
joy as he hears their ringing laugh and merry shouts.

Johnny Ware is among them, but does not stay long.
He comes into Harry’s house to warm his fingers. After
standing by the stove a few minutes, he comes to the window,
and, slipping his little cold hand into Harry’s, says,
“May I stay with you, Harry?”

Don’t you think our little lame boy is happy now?

FOOTNOTE