[i]

THE

NURSERY

A Monthly Magazine

For Youngest Readers.

[ii]

[iii]

[1]

LOOK OUT FOR THE ENGINE!

[2]

LOOK OUT FOR THE ENGINE!

They soon had a large pile heaped up in the middle of
the road which led through the forest. “For,” said Bob,
“we must make the fire where it won’t do any mischief.”

When all was ready, Bob lighted a match, and tucked it
under the leaves. Then, getting down on his knees, he
puffed and blew with his mouth, until first there rose a tiny
stream of smoke; then a little flame crept out; and, in a
moment more, the pile was blazing merrily.

The children got some large stones, and sat down on them
to warm their hands; for Sally said her nose and fingers were
so cold, she was sure Jack Frost must be somewhere around.
They could not make Carlo come near the fire: he was
afraid of it, it crackled and sputtered so. He liked better
to lie under the bushes near the dinner-basket.

“What a splendid bonfire!” said Bob.

“Yes,” said Sally; “but don’t you wish we had some nice
apples to roast in the coals?”

Just as she said this, they heard the whistle of a locomotive
away in the distance. “Look out for the engine!”
shouted Bob, jumping up. “Let’s run and see the cars go
by.”

Away they ran down the road, to the edge of the woods,
and climbed up on the fence. By leaning over, they could
look far up the track, and watch the train come thundering
down. First only a black speck was in sight; then the great[3]
lantern in front of the locomotive glittered in the sun; and
soon the train was rushing by.

Bob balanced himself on the top rail, and shouted, “Hurrah!”
Sally screamed, “Good-by, good-by!” at the top
of her voice; and Carlo bristled up his hair, and barked loudly,
wondering all the time what this strange creature could
be, which made such a racket, and ran faster than he could.

The people in the cars heard the noise, and looked out to
see where it came from. They saw a boy without his jacket
perched on a fence, waving his hat; a little girl by his side,
laughing so hard that she showed all her teeth; and a funny
little yellow dog yelping with all his might: that was all.
But they thought it a pretty picture, and opened the car-windows
to wave their handkerchiefs.

As the last car rushed by, a lady at one of the windows
tossed out two rosy apples. Down jumped Bob and Sally
to pick them up. The apples had fallen in some thick grass,
and were not bruised at all. “Just what we wanted,” said
Sally; “but, oh, dear! I’m so tired with shouting, that I
don’t believe I can eat my apple.” She did eat it, though,
every bit of it, except the seeds.

HOW WILLY COAXED EDITH.

The children who had “The Nursery” last year will remember
the story called “Kindness is better than Blows,”
where the bookseller with an apple coaxed the horse to draw
a heavy load up the hill. Little Willy Gay looked at that
picture very carefully, and soon made practical use of it, as
I will tell you.

Willy is very fond of playing horse, but has no brother to[4]
play with him. His sister Edith, three years old, does not
like to play horse: she prefers to be with her dollies. Sometimes
Willy gets cross, and scolds at her because she will not
play horse as much as he wants her to.

A few days ago I saw Willy coming up from the cellar
with a large red apple in his hand; and soon after I heard
the two children racing through the rooms, having a merry
time; and Willy called out, “O mamma! I gave Edie an
apple, and she did play horse.”

You see, he had thought about that story, and made up
his mind to try to coax little sister, as the man did the horse:
he soon found that kind words and deeds were better than
scolding.

I hope he will not forget it very soon.

WORKS OF ART FOR CHILDREN.

I have a little daughter who never returns from a walk in
the woods without bringing a bunch of gay flowers. I have
taught her to make of them many little works of art, which
you may also like to learn, dear reader.

Here is the first. Certainly there must grow in your
neighborhood some larch or spruce trees. If we look sharp,
we shall soon find on them a handsome half-open cone. In
the small openings of this cone we stick delicate flowers and
grasses which we find in the meadows and fields.

When our nosegay is ready, we lay the cone with the
flowers very carefully in a dish of water.

After an hour, the cone is so closely shut, that the flowers
are held as fast in its scales as if they had always grown
there. This makes a very nice present.[5]

I will tell you how to make another pretty thing. You
know what a burr is. Alas! it has often played you many a
naughty trick,—woven itself provokingly into your clothes,
or perhaps into your hair. I can teach you to make a better
use of it.

Pluck an apron full: lay them one against another so that
they shall stick fast together, and make in this manner the
bottom of a small basket of any shape you like,—round,
square, or oval.

Now build the burrs up around the edge to form the
sides. When this is finished, make also the handle of
burrs. A lovely little basket stands before you, which you
can fill with flowers or berries from the fields, and carry
home to your mother. Of course you know how to make
wreaths and bouquets; but to make them tastefully is a
true work of art, in which all children should try to become
skilful.

[6]

MY CLOTHES-PINS.

KIT MIDGE.

Kit Midge was thought in
the family to be a wonderful
little cat. She enjoyed sitting
in the sunshine; she liked
to feast upon the dainty little
mice; and, oh, dear me!
now and then, she liked to
catch a bird!

This was very naughty, of course; but the best trained
cats have their faults. One morning Kit ate her breakfast
with great relish, washed her face and paws, smoothed down
her fur coat, and went into the parlor to take a nap in the
big arm-chair.

The sun shone full in her face; and she blinked and purred
and felt very good-natured; for, only the night before, she
had caught her first rat, and for such a valiant deed had
been praised and petted to her heart’s content.

Well, Kit Midge fell asleep in the chair, with one little
pink ear turned back, that she might wake easily, and a
black tail curled round her paws. By and by one eye
opened; and, peeping out, she saw her mistress walking
across the room with a dear little yellow-bird in her hand,
which she placed on a plant that stood on the top shelf of
the plant-stand.

Now, Midge had looked with longing eyes for weeks upon
a lovely canary, which sang on its perch far out of her reach;
and I suppose she thought this was the same bird among the
green leaves.

But she was a wise little cat: so she slept on, with both
eyes open, until her mistress had left the room. Then Kitty[9]
came down from the chair, and, creeping softly to the stand,
made a spring, and seized birdie between her teeth. Then,
jumping down, she dropped the bird on the carpet, smelled
it, looked ashamed, and sneaked away.

It was only a stuffed bird; and when her mistress, who had
been peeping in at the door all the time, said, laughing,
“O Kit Midge, I am perfectly ashamed of you!” Kitty
just ran out of the room, and did not show herself the rest
of the day.

Kit Midge was never known to catch a bird after that.

HETTIE’S CHICKEN.

What can be prettier than a brood of chickens with a
good motherly hen, like the one in this picture! See how
the little chicks nestle and play about their mother! and see
what a watchful eye she has over them! But some chickens
do not have such kind mothers, as you shall hear.[10]

There was a little black one in our yard this spring, which
none of the mother-hens would own. They would peck at
it, and drive it away, till it was almost starved. Aunt Jennie
told our little Hettie that she might have it for her own,
if she would take care of it.

So Hettie put the chicken in a cage, with some wool to
cover it, and fed it several times every day, till it came to
know her. When it was let out of the cage, it would follow
her about wherever she went.

One night Hettie went to bed, and forgot to put her pet in
its cage. What do you think it did? It just flew up on her
pillow; and there it sat with its head tucked under its wing.

Hettie named it Posey, and called it her daughter.

“What will you be, some day, when Posey lays eggs, and
brings out a brood of little chickens?” asked mamma one day.

That was a new idea to Hettie; and it puzzled her little
brain for a minute: then she laughed out, “Shall I be
their grandmother?”

Papa looked up from his paper to see what amused his
little girl so much; and, when she had told him, he said he
would have a pair of spectacles ready for her; and mamma
said she would make her a cap; and Hettie said her little
arm-chair would be very nice for a grandmother’s chair.

“What will you do as you sit in your chair?” said mamma.

“Let me think,” replied Hettie. “Why, my grandma is
always knitting mittens and socks and hoods for us; and I
must learn to knit, so I can knit some for my grandchildren.”

Mamma said she would teach her, and they would begin
that very day.

And now, wouldn’t you like to see our little Hettie with
her roguish eyes peeping over spectacles, and her sunny
curls straying from her cap, and her chubby little hands
knitting mittens, and all in that little arm-chair?

[11]

MAMMA’S BOY.

[12]

A SCHOOL-BOY’S STORY.

John Tubbs was one day doing his sums, when little Sam
Jones pushed against him; and down went the slate with a
horrid clatter. “Take care of the pieces!” said the boys,
laughing. But Mr. Brill, the master, thought it no laughing
matter, and, believing it to be John Tubbs’s fault, told him
that he should pay for the slate, and have his play stopped
for a week.

John said nothing. He did not wish to get little Sam into
trouble: so he bore the blame quietly. John’s mother was
by no means pleased at having to pay for the slate, as she
was a poor woman, and had to provide for several other
little Tubbses besides John.

“I tell you what it is, John,” said she, “you must learn
to be more careful. I shall not give you any milk for your[13]
breakfast all the week; and by this I shall save money for
the slate, which it is right you should pay for.”

Poor John ate his bread with water instead of milk: but
somehow he was not unhappy, for he felt that he had done a
kindness to little Sam Jones; and the satisfaction of having
rendered a service to another always brings happiness.

A few days after, Mr. Jones came to the school, and spoke to
Mr. Brill about the matter; for little Sam had told his father
and mother all about it. Sam was a timid boy; but he could
not bear to see John Tubbs kept in for no fault, while the
other boys were at play.

“What!” said the master, “and has John Tubbs borne all
the blame without saying a word?—Come here, John.”

“What’s the matter now?” said John to himself. “Something
else, I suppose. Well, never mind, so that poor little
Sam Jones has got out of his little scrape.”

“Now, boys,” said Mr. Brill, “here’s John Tubbs. Look
at him!” And the boys did look at him as a criminal; and
John looked very much like a criminal, and began to think
that he must be a bad sort of fellow to be called up in this
way by his master.

Then Mr. Brill, the master, told the boys all about the
broken slate,—that John did not break it, but bore all
the blame to save Sam Jones from trouble, and had gone without
his milk and play without a murmur. The good schoolmaster
said that such conduct was above all praise; and,
when he had done speaking, the boys burst out into a cheer.
Such a loud hurrah! it made the school-walls ring again.
Then they took John on their shoulders, and carried him in
triumph round the playground.

And what did John say to all this? He only said,
“There, that’ll do. If you don’t mind, you’ll throw a fellow
down.”

[14]

CLARENCE AT THE MENAGERIE.

On the first day of May, Barnum’s menagerie came to
our town; and Clarence went with his papa to see the animals.
He enjoyed looking at them all; but most of all he
liked the monkeys and the elephants.

He fed the monkeys with candy, and laughed to see them
hang by their tails while they took it from his hand. They
ate all the candy he would give them, and did it in a very
funny way.

Clarence’s papa said the candy had better be eaten by
monkeys than by boys; but I doubt whether Clarence was
of that opinion.[15]

Clarence was afraid of the great elephant when his papa
first took him near it, and hung back when they came within
reach of its trunk.

“Why are you afraid of the elephant, Clarence?” asked
his papa. “I’m afraid he will trunk me,” said Clarence.

But he soon got over his fear, and was so busy feeding
the elephant, that his papa had to coax him away.

On their way home, Clarence’s papa told the little boy
some stories about elephants. Here is one of them:—

“Now, Clarence,” said his papa, “I suppose you would
say that the elephant ‘trunked’ the toll-gate, and so he did;
but, you see, it was because he did not choose to be imposed
upon.”

[16]

“TOUCH MY CHICKS IF YOU DARE!”

That is what the old hen must have said to our little pup
Bravo, who, being three months old, thought he was a match
for any chicken or hen in the whole barnyard. He made
up his mind that he would first try his courage on a little
yellow chick named Downy, who was just three days old,
and who had strayed away from his mother’s wing to pick
up a crumb.

So with a fearful growl, and a bark that might have frightened
a lion, Bravo made a leap and a spring after poor little
Downy. But Downy was too intent on his crumb of bread
to take much notice of the enemy; and then Bravo, like a
prudent general, stopped short, and tried his artillery before
approaching any nearer. In other words, he began to bark
in such a terrible manner, that any reasonable person would
have shown his respect by running away.

But Downy was too young to reason, or show respect.
Bravo, though as valiant as Julius Cæsar, was, at the same
time, as cautious and careful as Fabius; and, if you do not
know who Fabius was, I must tell you. He was a Roman
general who was very famous for his ability in retreating,
and getting out of an enemy’s way.

Bravo thought to himself, “It holds to reason, since that
little chick isn’t afraid of such a powerful dog as I am, that
there must be help near at hand.” And, sure enough, hardly
had Bravo thought this, when from behind some rushes ran
out an old hen, followed by four, five, six chickens; and the
old hen, with her feathers all ruffled, went right at Bravo,
while the chicks stood behind sharpening their bills, and
getting ready to join in the battle with their mother.

[17]Although the most courageous of dogs, it could not be
expected that Bravo would be so foolhardy as to make a
[18]
stand against such odds. He paused a moment, with his
mouth open, as the terrible old hen came at him; and then,
seeing that the tide of battle was against him, he ran off as
fast as he could to his master’s door-step. But, though defeated,
he showed his spirit by keeping up a frightful barking.
The old hen and her chicks, however, were so stupid
that they did not mind it much.

Indeed, the old hen, with her family, came up so near to
the door-step, that Bravo was obliged to make a second
retreat. This he did with such success and good general-ship,
that he escaped unhurt. Thus ended Bravo’s first battle;
and I think you will agree with me, that many a general
with epaulets would not have done any better.

THE CATCHER CAUGHT.

First Sparrow (the one standing with both wings spread).—Oh,
look here! Come all. See what has happened!
Here is old Scratch-claw with his tail caught fast in the
door.

Second Sparrow.—Where is he? Let me see. Oh, isn’t
this jolly! Halloo, Sparrows! Come and see. Come one,
come all.

Third Sparrow.—That’s the rascal that killed and ate
three of my little ones.

Fourth Sparrow.—He came near catching me, the other
day. Didn’t he spit viciously when he saw me get out of
his way?

Fifth Sparrow (the one on the ground).—How are you,
old Sneezer? How are your folks? Don’t you find yourself
comfortable?[19]

Pussy.—Siss-ss-siss-ss! Mee-ow? mee-ow!

Fifth Sparrow.—Oh! wouldn’t you like to, though?
Spit away, old fellow! It’s music to us sparrows.

Sixth Sparrow.—You are the brute that killed my dear
little Spotted-wing.[20]

Seventh Sparrow.—He also murdered my precious little
Twitterwit.

Eighth Sparrow.—He is a bad fellow; and it is not surprising
he has come to grief.

Ninth Sparrow.—Pull away, old boy! Sha’n’t we come
and help you? I love you so, I would like a lock of your
hair.

Tenth Sparrow (the one on the lowest bough).—Children,
hush! It is not good sparrow morality to jeer at an enemy
in affliction,—even a cat.

Fifth Sparrow.—O grandfather, you shut up your bill!
Just you go within reach of his claws, and see what cat-gratitude
is.

Tenth Sparrow.—My children, we must not exult over
the pains even of an enemy. A cat has feelings.

Pussy.—Siss-hiss-hoo! Mee-ow! Fitt! Fitt!

Fifth Sparrow.—What a lovely voice!

Sixth Sparrow.—The expression of his face, too, how
charming!

Tenth Sparrow.—Fly back, all of you, to your bushes
and trees; for here comes a little boy who will see that
Pussy is rescued.

First Sparrow.—Well, I wouldn’t have missed this spectacle
for a good deal.

Fifth Sparrow.—It is better than Barnum’s exhibition
any day.

First Sparrow.—Yes, and it costs us nothing.

Tenth Sparrow.—There! Fly away, all of you! Fly
away! You have said enough. I am ashamed of you all.
You ought to know better than to be revengful. You are
quite as bad as boys and men.

Fifth Sparrow.—Grandfather is getting to be abusive.
Let us fly off. Good-by, Pussy! Pull away!

[21]

THE BIRDS AND THE POND-LILY.

[22]

EDWIN’S DOVES.

[24]

THE LITTLE FORTUNE-SEEKERS.

Young as Alan was, he had heard from his uncle Paul
many a story about people seeking their fortune: so, one
fine summer day, he set off with his brother Owen and
his sister Amy a-fortune-seeking. Alan carried a stick; and
Amy had a little basket on her arm.

Alan led the way, telling Owen and Amy to keep close
to him, and to fear nothing. As they passed by Lakin’s
pond, a duck gave a loud quack; when they came to the
great ash-tree, a bee buzzed by them: but neither the quacking
nor the buzzing frightened the bold Alan; and on he
went, holding up his stick.

They had almost reached the sawyer’s cottage, when a
black animal ran out towards them. Alan asked if he should
attack the tiger? Owen would have it that it was only a
puppy dog: but Alan said that did not matter; for it had four
legs and a head and a tail, and so had a tiger. Owen thought[25]
he had better let it alone; and Amy tamed the tiger at once
by giving it a bit of bread from her basket.

Suddenly they came to a spot where five or six geese and
a few goslings were waddling about. The gander came
towards them, stretching out his neck, and hissing loudly.
Owen and Amy ran back, followed by Alan, who told them,
that, if he had hit the gander with his stick, he would have
frightened the goslings.

As there was a stile near, leading into a field, they all
got over the stile, and thus passed the geese.

“I wonder how that gander would like it,” said Alan, “if
I were to turn back, and lay hold of him by his long neck,
and shake him?” Amy begged of him by no means to
think of such a thing; and so Alan told her that he would
not. Little did the gander know of his narrow escape!

Ah, me! what perils await those who go on their travels
to seek their fortunes! A little brook was now before them;
and Alan said, “This river must be crossed, and I hope that[26]
none of us will be carried away by the current. What we
shall do if an Indian springs from behind the bushes, or a
crocodile comes out of the sedge, I don’t know. Here is
the narrowest part of the river. I will lay my stick across
it; and, if we make believe very much, it will do for a
bridge.”

“But I can’t walk along your stick,” said Amy. “Never
mind that,” said Alan: “a bridge is a bridge, whether we
walk along it or not.” So Alan laid his stick across the
narrow part, and then jumped over the brook, followed by
Owen and Amy. No Indian sprang from the bush, no crocodile
came out of the sedge; and the river was crossed without
one of them being drowned.

All at once it came into Alan’s head that Uncle Paul had
once been attacked by a wolf, and that they ought to have
an adventure of the same kind: he therefore asked Owen
if he would consent to be eaten up by a wolf. Owen said he
did not like it: he thought Alan ought to be eaten, for he was
the biggest. Alan said that would never do; for then there
would be nobody to care for him and Amy.

But, besides this difficulty, there was another: they had
no wolf; and, where to get one, they did not know. At last
it was settled. Owen was to be the wolf, and to spring on
Amy; but before he had eaten her up, or even so much as
snapped off her little finger, Alan was to rush upon him
with his stick, and drive him back into the woods.

Amy was now left alone, that Owen might get behind one
bush, and Alan behind another. No sooner was this done,
than, with her basket on her arm, she went on her journey.

And now Amy was almost come to the bush behind which
Owen was crouching. For a moment she made a stop, as
though she hardly durst go by; but at last she went on.
Suddenly the wolf leaped out, and caught hold of her.[27]

What was poor Amy to do? Well was it for her that
Alan happened to come up. Many people are frightened
at wolves; but Alan did not seem frightened at all.

It was a hard struggle; for the wolf pulled poor Amy one
way, and Alan pulled her the other; but at length Alan won
the day. “Shall I kill the wolf, Amy?” cried he, lifting
up his stick. “No, no!” cried Amy: “he has not hurt me
a bit. He is not a real wolf, but only my brother Owen.”

The affair of the wolf having passed off so well, Alan
began to bethink himself of other adventures. So much
had he heard from Uncle Paul about Indians, that his heart
was set on going among them.

Both Owen and Amy wondered where he would find the
Indians; but Alan said, “That thicket yonder is quite as
likely a place to find them in as any that I know.”

“We have not seen one yet,” said Owen. “No,” replied
Alan: “Indians always get behind the trees.” This made
Owen and Amy look about them, as if they feared every
tree had an Indian behind it.[28]

Alan set off for the thicket, while Owen and Amy sat
down to talk over their travels; but it was not long before
Alan again joined them. Whether the Indians were absent
on some expedition, or whatever else might be the cause,
certain it was that Alan had found no Indians. He had,
however, torn the leg of one of his stockings: so he asked
Amy to bind up his wounds.

“But you have not hurt your leg,” said Amy: “you have
only torn a hole in your stocking.”

“Never mind that!” replied Alan. “We are out on our
travels, seeking our fortunes, and must make the most of
every thing. Bind up my wounded leg.”

Little Amy tied up his leg with his handkerchief; and,
considering that she had never bound up a wound before,
it did her great credit.

It is due to Alan to say that the misfortune of his wounded
leg by no means cooled his courage. “What is the use,”
said he, “of complaining? Those who go to seek their
fortunes must learn to bear pain.”[29]

One of Alan’s plans was to find a treasure; and, as they
had neither spade nor pickaxe with them to dig for gold, he
thought the best way would be for them to find a bag of
money. Amy said, if they found a bag of money, she should
like to take Dolly some. This being generously agreed to
by Alan and Owen, they proceeded with their plan.

Alan took Amy’s handkerchief, and tied up some grass in
it. He then told Owen to go on a little way and drop it;
and this Owen did. “Hi!” cried Alan, when he came up
to the spot: “what have we here? Who would have
thought that a merchant would have dropped a bag of
money in such a place as this?”

All at once Owen and Amy bethought themselves that
they had no right to the gold, as it belonged to the merchant
who had lost it; but Alan met this objection by saying
that they could easily inquire for the merchant as they
went along, and give up the money if they found him. Thus
pacified, Owen and Amy allowed Alan to lift the heavy bag
of money into the basket: this he seemed to do with great
difficulty.

But how was the basket to be carried with so heavy a
weight in it? Said Alan, “Where there is a will, there is a
way.” A stick was procured, and passed through the handle
of the basket, one end of it resting on Owen’s shoulder, and
the other end on the shoulder of Amy.

Alan with his leg tied up, leaning on his stick for support,
hobbled onward; and Owen and Amy appeared to toil with
might and main, bending under their load.

They had almost come to the turn by the birch-trees,
when suddenly Dash, their own favorite dog, came barking
joyfully towards them. At that very moment their parents
were waiting for them with the pony-chaise at the end of
the lane.[30]

No sooner did our little fortune-seekers set eyes on the
pony-chaise than off they set in a scamper, strangely forgetful
of what had passed. It was wonderful to see how nimble
Alan was in spite of his wounded leg; and with what ease
Owen and Amy ran along with that heavy load of gold,
which before had well-nigh weighed them down to the
ground.

THE LITTLE STEPMOTHER.

The little stepmother, with her blue eyes and rosy cheeks,
sat in the yard, surrounded by her pets, and busily paring
some apples.

From heaven blew the morning wind, and greeted the
lovely child: “Little stepmother, I will by thee remain: I
will make the time pass merrily for thee, and cool thy red
cheeks. Dost thou not hear?”

A sparrow sat before her on the bench, and twittered:
“This is my place; my stomach is empty. Little stepmother,
I am very hungry. I beg thee to give me some
breakfast. Dost thou not hear?”

The dove swelled with anger, and said, “Go away, thou
vagabond, thou beggar sparrow, thou glutton!—Little
stepmother, I politely ask thee only for a sip of water.
Dost thou not hear?”

The cat sat lost in thought, opening and shutting her
eyes. “Little stepmother,” said the cat, “my stomach, too,
is empty. Go thou for some meat, or else look out that no
harm comes to thy dear birds in the yard. Dost thou not
hear?”

The little stepmother laughed, and said, “Be not so impatient!
I must first make a dish of apple-sauce for the seven
and seventy guests who are coming to my wedding-feast.[31]

When they are all assembled, then shall the morning wind
play for the dance. You, beloved birds, shall be my bridesmaids,
and the cat shall be the bride’s father.”

[32]

A SUMMER DAY.